#so her not talking about it does not make it not true

[froggiewrites]

Fanboy

Pairing: Law x Reader

NSFW

Summary: You get a little more than you bargained for when you decide to clean your Captain's office for him and stumble upon his smutty fanfiction. Warnings: Very Mild Angst, Smut, Fem!Reader, Roleplay, Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Edging, Minor Dacryphilia, Petnames (use of sweetheart and good girl) Word Count: 7.6k Notes: This was originally supposed to be a sub 2000 word silly one shot about Law writing Sora smut. As you can see, it very quickly got out of hand. I hope you all enjoy it!

You have come to terms with the fact your Captain does not and will never want you how you want him.

It was hard, at first, to hear his silky voice and see his strong hands and not imagine him saying what you want to hear as he holds you against the wall, fingers slipping slowly up your thighs to where you need him most. It got even harder a few years in, after he started wearing perpetually open shirts and coats, showing off the tattoos you so desperately want to trace your tongue across. But you’re finally starting to accept that he simply doesn’t feel the same. His eyes don’t linger on you when you’re around. He doesn’t show you any leniency (not that you would expect any, of course, but it’s hard not to notice his favoritism for Bepo when he forgives him in an instant for a transgression he had you swab the deck for). He doesn’t accept your help when you offer it, no matter how badly he needs it.

He just doesn’t really want anything to do with you, or at least no more to do with you than anyone else on the ship. Penguin and Shachi, who unfortunately clocked your affection for your Captain years ago, have come up with a long list of excuses as to why he hasn’t shown any signs of affection.

“He’s shy.”

“He gets embarrassed easily.”

“He’s worried about the power gap.”

“He only looks at you when you aren’t looking.”

“Yelling is how he shows his affection.”

And of course, your personal favorite.

“He’s just a nerd. He doesn’t know how to act around women.”

Shachi has repeated this one a lot, and as always you immediately dispute it. “That cannot possibly be true, Shachi.”

“Why not?”

“Look at him!”

“I know what he looks like. Doesn’t change the fact he gets nervous.”

“Captain has never, for even a single moment, shown any sort of hesitation or shyness in front of me. And he’s a grown man, a handsome one, not to mention a wanted pirate. You honestly expect me to believe he’s some shy little nerd who can’t bring himself to talk to me? He just doesn’t like me, Shachi. And that’s fine. I’m a big girl, I can handle it.”

“Handle what?” Penguin’s voice echoes in the small room he and Shachi share, which you’ve decided to invade for the day. 

“Her pining for Captain.”

“Ah.”

You huff. “Don’t say it like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like it’s like…a fact of life. Something so easy to brush past.”

Shachi narrows his eyes in confusion. “I thought you said that’s what you wanted to do. Be casual about it, and all.”

“Yeah, I want to. It feels different when you do it.” You’re pouting. You hate that you’re pouting.

Penguin gives you a pitying smile, dripping with good natured sympathy that makes you clench your jaw. “It’s tough, isn’t it?” He sits on the edge of his bed, careful not to shift you too much. He pats your shoulder, tutting quietly. “It’s hard to get over somebody you don’t really want to get over.”

“Yeah,” you mutter. You finally lift your head, and once you make eye contact, his smile turns a little more teasing.

“I know a great guy you could use as a rebound.”

You sigh. “Is it you?”

He laughs. “Who’s to say? You don’t need him yet.” His smile softens again, something more genuine. “But know that if you really do give up, there will be other guys. Other chances. Give this one a good shot, a real one, and if it doesn’t work out? Come talk to us, and it’ll all be alright.”

Shachi pipes up as well. “It will work out, really. But if it doesn’t…” he wiggles his eyebrows, and you can’t help but finally give them the laugh they were clearly aiming for. Which becomes a full on giggle fit once they light up and give each other a massive high five at their victory. The room is warm, and you finally forget your worries for a moment.

“Aren’t you supposed to be working?” Law’s voice cuts through you like ice, and your laughter stops in an instant. Shachi and Penguin are unphased, of course, still smiling freely.

“I just got off of my shift, Captain. I was going to take a nap, but…” Penguin pokes your side, and you let out a soft squeak as you curl in on yourself. You don’t miss the way Law’s eyes narrow slightly at the contact, the way he seems to focus in on the noise. He must be annoyed with you, with how you’re taking up space somewhere you don’t belong.

“I’m also off shift.” Your voice is small, embarrassingly so. 

“I wasn’t talking to you two.” Law’s voice is just as flat and authoritative as always. He’s nothing if not born to command. You’d love to hear what commands he might give you, if–

No. Bad. Evil. Your mind betrays you, as it always does. You sit up so you can hide yourself behind Penguin, make yourself small and inconspicuous and hope that Law will stop looking at you with those beautiful piercing eyes. You don’t know how long you can be normal under such an intense gaze. 

“I’m on break,” Shachi defends, causing Law’s eyes to shift over to him. You can’t help but let out a sigh of relief as you feel the pressure of his gaze leave you, and you wrap your arms lightly around Penguin, allowing your forehead to fall forward and press into his back. You can feel the rumble of a laugh working its way through his chest, though you can’t figure out why.

Law’s voice is significantly harsher than before. “Well, end it.” You flinch, unused to him snapping quite so cruelly. Law may have a shorter temper than he would admit, but he never sounds quite so furious, especially not with Shachi and Penguin. He seems to realize this as well, because the next time he speaks is much gentler. “I–Just get back to work. I need everyone at their best right now.”

“Aye aye, Captain!” There’s a hint of chuckle in Shachi’s voice, for some reason. He stands, bed creaking as he does. “You can use my bed if you want to nap in here. Let Peng have his.”

You let out a soft whine, but peel yourself off of Penguin anyway. “No, it’s fine, I should get back to my room anyway. I need a nap before I do anything else.” You think you see Law nodding in approval out of the corner of your eye, but when you turn to look at him, his eyes are firmly on Shachi, glaring at his back as he leaves. Just wishful thinking on your part, as always. 

Penguin softly pats your back as you walk past. “Chin up. It’ll all work out.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“What’ll work out?” Law is staring at Penguin’s hand on your back.

“Nothing!” You try not to sound panicked. You fail, of course.

His eyes narrow.

“Sorry, Captain. This is a secret just for us lowly crew members. No captains allowed!” Penguin’s smile is relaxed and easy, and it almost manages to calm you down. You would love to play along, make a little joke out of it, but the idea of him finding out petrifies you. What if he’s disgusted by the idea? Horrified enough to kick you out of the crew, your home, your family? He wouldn’t, you know that, but the image in your head is so clear. Your chest feels tight, your head fuzzy, and you think at some point you started holding your breath.

Law makes a noncommittal grunt, scowl still clear on his face, but he leaves. A small mercy.

“Hey, take a breath, please. You look like you’re gonna pass out.”

“I feel like I’m gonna pass out.”

“Are you gonna be alright to get back to your room? Do you need me to walk you?” Penguin’s hand rests gently on your elbow, and he looks ready to jump to your aid at any moment.

You give him a shaky smile. “I’ll be alright. Anxiety’s never killed anyone. Probably.” You take care to walk as steadily as you can out of the room, avoiding eye contact with your Captain, who’s waiting directly outside.

“You okay?” His voice stops you in your tracks.

“Yeah, I’m–” You see the disbelief on his face. “I’ve been better. But it’s okay. I’ll get there.”

“Are Penguin and Shachi giving you trouble? They mean well, but sometimes their jokes can go a little far. I–” He clears his throat, eyes glancing away for a moment. “I could talk to them. If you need me to.”

You chuckle. This means he really has no idea he’s the source of your anguish. Good. “Oh, no, it’s nothing like that. They’re actually helping me through something.”

He purses his lips. You imagine how soft they’d feel on yours. “Helping you through something?”

“Yeah. I’ve been struggling with it lately, and talking to them has really helped.” You stare intensely at the wall behind him, worrying that you’ll come undone and say something you can’t take back if you stare into his eyes for too long. Something about him just makes you want to melt under his gaze, and you can’t afford to give in to the impulse.

He hums, eyes briefly fluttering closed. “I see. Well, I’m glad you have their support.” Is it just you, or is his voice a bit colder than it was before? “I’ll leave you be. Have a nice nap.”

“Thanks, Captain.” You try not to run back to your room until you’re sure he can’t hear your footsteps anymore. You change out of your boiler suit, desperate to be in something more comfortable than this, and throw yourself into your bed face first. You press your face into your pillow, trying to ground yourself. You aren’t allowed to imagine what it would feel like to lay on Law’s chest instead, his hands on your back, tracing meaningless patterns into your skin. You aren’t allowed to imagine the warmth of the blankets as his, or the comfort of your weighted blanket as his arm around your back. You certainly aren’t allowed to cry about the fact that it isn’t him, and that it never will be. Because that would mean you weren’t getting over him, instead getting lost in a fantasy of what can never and will never be. And you have no time for fantasy, despite what your heart keeps trying to tell you. 

You dream of him, as you always seem to.

You could cope with it, if it were simply sex. If it were about nothing more than his cock and his hands and the way his voice penetrates deep into your bones whenever you hear it, turning you pliable and needy. But today’s dream is one you’ve had before, and one you always dread.

I love you. His hands are gentle as they wrap around your waist, pulling you close. I can’t imagine my life without you in it. His nose nuzzles against your neck, tickling you and making you giggle.

I love you too, Law. I think I always have. Your hands rest on his chest, and you can feel his heart beating below your fingers, quick and thundering. You smile. Nervous?

Of course I am. Look at you. His eyes bore into yours, and you can see the affection flooding them. His nose brushes against yours, his lips growing closer, and his eyes flutter shut.

Yours shoot open.

No matter how many dreams you have about Law, you can never kiss him. How sad, that your brain can imagine a hundred ways he can fuck you and not one in which gives you the one thing you’ve been craving most.

You throw off your covers and throw on a bra, not bothering to get fully dressed. You need some air, which is unfortunate, considering the Tang won’t surface for at least another day or two. You can at least go downstairs and find a window, press yourself against the glass and pretend you’re out in the cold of the ocean, at peace with the world around you. You can avoid passing Law’s office, and hopefully that means you’ll avoid the man himself. You don’t want to burst into tears the moment you see him, and you feel too soft and fragile right now, like your edges are crumbling. Half of you is still in the dream, melting into fantasy, and being snapped into reality with a single look might shatter you.

You pad quietly out into the hallway, unsure of what time it is, not wanting to wake anyone. It’s impossible to tell what time of day it is on the Tang when you’re underwater, lit only by harsh fluorescents that constantly buzz. It’s peaceful, feeling the cold metal of the floors seep through your socks and hearing the quiet thunk of your footsteps muffled by the fabric. 

“Are you heading downstairs?”

You turn to see Bepo, shifting uncomfortably on his feet, papers in hand. “Yeah, I am. Why? Do you need something?”

“Can you run these to Captain for me? I would, but–” 

You see him wince as he speaks, and you immediately know what the problem is. Before you can even think about it, you’re swiping the papers from his hands easily. “Yeah, of course, big guy. I’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you so much!” He’s off in an instant.

You stare at the papers, willing yourself into reality. You’re going to bring something to your captain. The man you have no other relationship with. Just doing your job. And afterwards you can go back to your room and cry all you want, if you really feel like you need to.

Law should be in his office right now, buried up to his neck in paperwork. It doesn’t feel great to add to that pile, or to let him see you so underdressed, but Bepo needed help. You can’t let him suffer just to avoid some embarrassment. You make your way down, knocking lightly against his office door.

No voice calls you inside.

Strange. He should be here. Maybe he fell asleep at his desk again. You’ve heard the others scold him for that dozens of times, and you’ve caught him yourself once or twice. He’s going to ruin his back if he keeps doing that. You crack open the door, ready to shift him into a more comfortable position, but you find your Captain isn’t actually there at all. His desk is a mess, papers everywhere, a sharp contrast from the neatly organized shelves and minimalist look of the rest of the room.

“Maybe I should tidy up for him,” you mutter to yourself. Law hates asking for help with things he believes he should be able to handle on his own, but clearly this is getting away from him. And even if he wasn’t grateful for the intrusion, at least it might lighten his load a little. You’d do nearly anything to ease your Captain’s burdens, if he’d just let you.

Before you realize it, your hands are on the papers, your former fragility forgotten as you get lost in the calm that such a mundane task brings you. You start by simply organizing the papers into stacks based on their titles and a quick skim of their opening paragraphs. You don’t read any further, not wanting to read anything not meant for your eyes, and you quickly find you’re able to organize everything into three neat stacks: medical papers, ship logs, and a third stack of anything that doesn’t fit into the previous two. You’re nearly finished when you find a title that makes you pause.

You can’t figure out what What You Can’t Have could mean, or what this bundle of papers is doing in Law’s office. Skimming the first few paragraphs doesn’t give you any explanation, until you start reading more closely and see a name: Sora.

Everyone in the North Blue knows about Sora, Warrior of the Sea, and everyone on this ship knows it more intimately than most. Your Captain’s fondness for the series and your fondness for him means you know it very well, well enough to know this is not one of the noncanonical (but still official) spinoff novels, or a novel adaptation of one of the comics. There’s a character you’ve never heard of before in this, one that, if you were a more paranoid person, you would suspect is based on you. She can’t be, of course. That would be ridiculous. But as you read her introductory paragraph, you can’t help but notice she bears a striking physical resemblance to you. Same hair and eye color, same height, same build. But she can’t be you. She’s described as seductive, enchanting, and many other things you know nobody would ever say about you.

You should put this down. But the writing style is so familiar, and so are the handwritten edits in the margins. Your captain wrote this. You had no idea this was what he did in what little spare time he has. You keep telling yourself to stop reading, to tuck it away and pretend you didn’t see it, because really, you know he wouldn’t want you to have seen it, easily embarrassed as he is. But there’s so much passion in the words, so much care, and frankly? It’s good. Really good. You think he has some real talent, in something you would have never expected him to even try. His care for the series oozes from every word, and he’s really good at building tension, and–

Oh.

Your captain hasn’t just been writing fanfiction about his favorite hero.

He’s been writing smut.

Really good smut, honestly.

You lean against the desk, completely enraptured by his work. The tension between Sora and this unnamed woman is astonishing, every single word winding you up tighter as you wait for the dam to break. Before you know it, you’re fully bent over the desk, clutching the page in your hands, trying not to rub your thighs together at the very graphic descriptions of what Sora is doing with his hands. You imagine Law’s hands, lithe and long, sliding under your shirt like Sora’s do under this mystery woman’s. You imagine his breath puffing against your ear as he instructs, be good for me, now, and maybe you can finally get what you want, just like Sora does. You imagine him moving impossibly closer, feeling his hardness press into your thigh as– 

“What are you doing in here?”

You freeze. Your captain is standing in the door, papers in hand and scowl severe. If you didn’t know better, you would think for a moment his eyes lingered on the cleavage you’re showing by leaning over this far. But you do know better, so you tell yourself he’s simply observing the papers in your hands, even if his gaze seems aimed too high for that. You shoot up, papers still in hand, shirt riding up in the process, and god does it look like his eyes dip down to your exposed midriff in the process. But they don’t. You have more pressing matters than your delusions, anyway.

“Hi Captain!”

“...Hi.”

“I–Um. I was organizing your desk for you.”

His eyes linger on the three stacks of papers, humming quietly. “I see that. …Why?”

“Bepo had me run papers down to you, but you weren’t here, and–and your desk was so messy, so much messier than usual, and I was worried maybe you were overwhelmed and I thought it might help.” You’re speaking a mile a minute, clutching the papers close to your chest in some desperate attempt to ground yourself, but the sound of the papers wrinkling causes him to glance down and now you’re sure that just for a moment he was looking at your boobs and you’re far more flustered than you were when you began.

And even worse, he smiles. It’s a soft, gentle thing, which sneaks so slowly onto his face you don’t even know if he realizes it’s there. But it is. And it’s beautiful. “Thank you, then. I appreciate the thought.”

Your grip eases on the papers for a second, and the crinkling brings his attention back to them. You don’t know what gives it away, but with the way his eyes widen slightly, the way his lips part, you know that he knows what you have in your hands. The way he whispers your name, the fear in it, makes your heart clench.

“Captain–”

“Did you–I–” He takes a breath, gathers himself. “Did you read anything you weren’t supposed to?”

God, you did. You’re halfway through a sex scene, flushed and flustered and thinking about your captain in ways that are wholly and completely inappropriate. You’re panicking. You can’t let Law see how flustered you are, can’t let him realize that you were fantasizing about him, lusting after him in his office while he’s out like some kind of pervert. So, trying to turn this around on him, throw him off his rhythm, you decide to make a deeply out of character choice.

You open your mouth, taking a dramatic breath as though you're going to start reading aloud, and you can see the panic in Law's eyes. Before you can decide between reading and handing it over to spare him the embarrassment, you hear “Shambles!” as the papers in your hand are swapped with the ones he walked in with. You're momentarily disappointed, before you look down and are struck with intense and all consuming delight.

In trying to get the fanfiction out of your hands, Law has, in fact, given you more of his fanfiction to read.

You gasp quietly, cheshire cat grin widening. Law looks at you with confusion, clearly still so thrown he hasn't realized what's just transpired. In your current state, you can only think of one way to inform him.

"Her hands were soft and gentle, so small compared to his-"

"STOP." He lunges forward around the desk, powers forgotten as he decides to bullrush you to get the papers out of your hands. His hands wrap around your wrists, and before you know it you’re pinned against the desk, chests pressed together, his leg pressed between your thighs. You flush, overwhelmed by the sensation of his hard body against yours, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Do you think this is funny?”

You open your mouth to respond, but his lips are so close, and you feel something else pressing into your midriff. You make a small choked noise, and his glare doesn’t dampen.

“Are you trying to embarrass your captain?”

“I–uh–Captain–” You can barely squeak out anything, and he presses closer.

“Answer me.”

“You’re so close.”

He pauses.

He blinks.

And suddenly your captain is across the room, face bright red, holding his papers in front of his chest like a shield. “I–um.” He stares at you a moment, his eyes moving from your face to your chest to your hips and back up, and suddenly the papers shifts down in front of his crotch.

He couldn’t…

Could he?

Before you can process this, he’s speaking again, his tone far less authoritative than it was before. “How far did you read?”

“Uh–pretty far.”

You could swear his voice cracks a little as he whispers, “Oh god. This is–you were never supposed to see that.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep reading, it was just–it was really good.”

He stares at you a moment, mouth agape. “What?”

“It was–I liked it a lot. I didn’t even mean to start it, I just couldn’t figure out what pile to put it in, and then I got really invested, and–I’m really, really sorry, Captain.”

“You liked it?” His eyes are narrowed, looking at you like something dangerous, like if he shows a moment of weakness you’ll pounce. He approaches you slowly, inching closer and closer.

“...Yeah. I did. I was really impressed, actually. I didn’t know you were a writer.”

He scoffs. “I wouldn’t call myself that.”

“Why?”

“I just…don’t know if I’m good at it.” He sounds small in a way you’ve never heard him. You’ve never seen Law less than confident before. He absolutely radiates it, a constant smug grin and twinkle in his eyes. It suits him far better than slumped shoulders and wringing hands.

“Are you kidding? It was amazing. What I was able to read, anyway. I couldn’t bear to put it down.” You reach for him for just a moment, your hand ready to touch his shoulder, but something in you pulls it back. You can’t bring yourself to touch him, not as you are. 

He won’t look at you. You can feel his regret in sharing, in allowing his mask to crack slightly. There’s a bitterness to his tone as he snaps at you like a wounded animal. “You expect me to believe that? That you didn’t just read it to laugh at me?”

You can’t keep the pity off of your face. His first instinct is always to believe he’ll be hurt, that an open hand is a sign of a slap, and not a kind touch. “Why on earth would I do that, Captain?”

His shoulders unknot a bit as he thinks it over. You have never done anything to hurt him, and to tease in such a cruel way is not in your nature. He’s not relaxed, not quite, but he isn’t ready to run anymore. He leans against a nearby table, parking himself at a distance but assuring you he won’t go further. “I suppose you wouldn’t. …So you really liked it?”

The way he’s looking at you is so fragile, so soft. You feel your heart clench at the sight of such a guarded man looking so adorable, though you know he would hate to be called such a thing. You can’t help the affection that leaks into your gentle smile as you look at him. “I really did.”

He huffs, trying to bring back up his walls, but he can’t hide his relief, and his continued interest. “What did you like about it?”

“I thought the descriptions were very vivid. It was…” It feels like crossing a line you can’t uncross to call it hot, but he’s looking at you so expectantly. “Very stimulating.”

Something akin to a smirk grows on his face, offset by the dust of a blush on his cheeks. His voice is an octave deeper when he speaks. “Simulating?”

You shiver. “I–uh–yes. The leads had really good chemistry. I never imagined Sora would be so…charming. And I liked the woman too, though I have to admit I didn’t recognize her name.”

He nods. “You wouldn’t. She’s an original character.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, I wanted to try my hand at something new, and I didn’t like pairing him with any of the canon characters so I just…made one up.”

You shift nervously on your feet, thinking about how remarkably familiar her description was. “So you made her just for this? Didn’t even give her a name?”

“I haven’t decided her name yet, but I’m working on it. And yeah, she’s just for this. Why?”

You want to be subtle, ease your way in, but your mind is running a mile a minute and frankly subtlety has never been your strong suit anyway. “So…is she supposed to be me?”

He shoots up so quickly he nearly falls over. “What? No! No, why would you think that?” He looks absolutely mortified, like he’s praying the floor swallows him whole. He looks about two seconds away from shambling himself out of the sub and letting the ocean take him away.

“Well in her intro, when you describe her…she looks a lot like me.”

“...She does?” He seems genuinely surprised, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Why are you asking? You’re the writer! You didn’t realize?”

“No, I…” He’s blushing to the tips of his ears. “She was just supposed to be a beautiful woman. I didn’t think that hard about what she looked like beyond that.”

“She has the same hair color and eye color as me, you describe her as around my height, and the dress she’s wearing in her intro is my favorite color.”

His shoulders are so tense they’re practically up over his ears. If his voice cracks when he yells, you’re kind enough not to acknowledge it. “I didn’t think that much about it! I just thought of a beautiful woman and I described her.”

“So when you think of a beautiful woman in your head, you see me?”

He doesn’t answer.

You try to hide your giddy smile. “That’s sweet, Captain.”

He avoids eye contact so aggressively you swear it must be hurting him at this point. “It wasn’t–I–I didn’t notice. You don’t think it’s…creepy?”

“That you think I’m beautiful?”

“That I wrote porn about a woman who looks exactly like you.”

“Oh. When you put it like that I guess it doesn’t sound great.” He tenses again, so you rush to reassure him. “But no, I don’t think it’s creepy. It’s not like you meant to, or anything. Or that you wrote about me and like, another member of the crew or something. Why would I be mad that I just happen to be exactly your type?” Your heart is beating out of your chest as you try to portray a confidence you certainly don’t feel. 

“Right. Yeah. I–There’s nothing wrong with that.”

He didn’t deny it.

“And it’s…great porn, honestly.”

Your delivery is so awkward the tension finally breaks as he laughs at you. “I appreciate that. I worked hard on it. But I’m not sure on some of the descriptions.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not sure it reads as true to life.”

“Does it need to?”

“No, not really, fantasies don’t have to be realistic. But…I can’t help but think about it anyway. What if part of it is so unrealistic it takes you out of it entirely, and I just didn’t notice? Or didn’t know because I’ve never tried that specific thing? Do you know what I mean?”

You do. You know insecurity in your work, the way it whispers in your ear. You know that words are not enough reassurance to silence those whispers. You want to help him, even if you don’t know how you could.

“What if we…tested it? To see if it’s realistic?” You can’t believe the words that just left your mouth. From the look on his face, Law can’t either.

“What?” A beautiful crimson streaks across his face and up to his ears, heat radiating off of him.

“Oh my god. Forget I said that, that was so inappropriate, I’ll just go–”

“No!” He’s so loud you both flinch, and he seems surprised by his own objection. His long fingers are wrapped around your wrist, and you can feel his calluses brush against your skin. God, what you wouldn’t give for those fingers to be somewhere else. “No, don’t–don’t leave. I think–I would–um. I’d like that.”

You blink. “You would?”

“Just to…test it. To make sure my writing is accurate. I’m a perfectionist.”

“Right.”

“Yeah.” His eyes flicker down to where he’s holding you, and to your surprise, he doesn’t release his grip. He tugs you closer, pressing your chests together, and you can feel his warm breath in his ear. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Law.”

“What?”

The deep rumble of his voice is commanding in a way that has you rubbing your thighs together. “I want to hear you say my name. Call me Law.”

“Yes, Law.”

You can feel his smirk as he whispers the next words in your ear. “Good girl.”

Heat rushes to your face, and you bite your lip to keep from making any deeply embarrassing noises. He chuckles as he pulls away, and you see no trace of his earlier apprehension or nerves. You suppose Law has always been a good liar, always putting up the front of the proud, confident, and unshakable Surgeon of Death. What is this but another part for him to play?

“How did it start again?” He places his hands on your hips, leading you away from the desk and toward the wall. “She and Sora meet up in the club, strike up a conversation–”

“Can we skip to the good part?” You hate how needy and breathless you sound. You’re already worked up from reading, from hearing him speak, from being so close, that you think if you spend another minute without some kind of release you might explode.

He chuckles. “I guess we can skip forward a bit.” He presses you against the wall, hand sliding to your thigh. You shiver, but he stops right before his fingers slide under your shorts. “But have you been good enough to earn it?”

You whine, a pathetic, wounded sound that comes from deep within you. For a moment, you see his facade slip as he swallows, trying not to give away how much the sound turned him on. But after a moment his mask settles back firmly in place, and you’re both ready to continue the game. “Please, Law. I’ve been good. I’ll be good.”

His smile is all teeth as his fingers find their place inside of you. First one, pumping slowly and deliberately, curling to hit your sweet spot just right. He moans quietly in your ear at the feeling of it. You know his line before he says it. “Do you feel that? The way you’re pulling me in? You need me bad, sweetheart, don’t you?”

He inserts a second finger right as you open your mouth to answer. “Ahh–Yes! I need you!”

He pumps harder, faster, and his other hand starts to wander towards your chest. His lips find your neck, nipping at the point where it meets your jaw, making you gasp again. His hand gently squeezes your breast through your shirt, and he can feel your hardened nipples through the fabric. He chuckles. “Yes, you do. Nobody else can make you feel as good as I can. You know it. That’s why you’re here, that’s why you’re so drawn to me. On some level you know: it’s just you and me. We’re all there is, all that matters. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, Law! Yes!”

His free hand effortlessly removes your shirt, and you gasp as you’re exposed to the air, your back pressing into the cold wall. He removes your bra next, letting out a soft hiss of appreciation when he finally sees them fully exposed. “As beautiful as I imagined,” he whispers, seemingly to himself. You don’t remember that line.

His mouth finds your nipple easily, sucking and nipping as you threaten to come undone under his attention. His fingers are still moving, his thumb on your clit, building the tension in your body until you feel like you’re going to explode. You’re so very close to the edge, close enough that in your pleasure you forget the next part of the story for a moment.

Until his fingers leave you.

“No!” Your head slams back into the wall as you wail, tears welling up in your eyes. Law seems unaffected, pulling back from you as he slowly inserts his fingers into his mouth, savoring your taste. The only sign that you’ve shaken him is the clear strain of his cock under his jeans, desperate to be free.

His fingers leave his mouth with a pop, and he smiles at you, eyes half-lidded. “Did you think it was going to be that easy? That you would just get what you want, no questions asked?”

You whine, the sound filled with genuine despair. The room is silent for a moment as he stares at you, waiting for your next line, and you try to remember the part you’re supposed to play here. You just barely manage to grasp it, breathlessly saying, “I thought you were a better man than to leave a lady wanting.”

He slides off his tank top, revealing his beautiful tattoos to you. “Oh, honey, this isn’t about what you want. It’s about what you need. And how wonderful it’ll be, once you’re so on edge you can barely stand it, and I finally give in to you. Can you imagine it?” He pops the button of his pants next, sensually sliding them and his boxers down to expose his bare hips. “What it’ll feel like, when I’m finally inside of you?”

His cock is finally free, bobbing in the air as it leaks with precum. He looks painfully hard, and you swallow as you briefly imagine it in your mouth. You’d give almost anything to taste him right now, but that isn’t a part of the scene.

“You’ll feel so full, honey. Imagine how good it’ll feel to cum on my cock. Isn’t that worth the wait?”

“God, yes.”

“Good girl. So agreeable.” One hand finds your hips as he uses the other to line himself up. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, god, please.”

He slowly slides in, feeling the drag of every inch of his dick against your walls. He makes a strangled noise at the feeling, burying his face into your neck as he desperately tries to catch his breath. He stops once he’s fully sheathed in you, giving you both a moment to adjust.

And then another.

And another.

“Law?”

You can hear him chuckle against you. “What, darling?”

“Please, Law.”

He pretends to ponder whether or not to give in for a moment, keeping you in suspense, before he relents. He pulls away from your neck, revealing his extremely red face. His voice may be calm, but the rest of him cannot hide the effects you’re having. “What do you want, sweetheart? Use your words.”

You know the line you’re supposed to say next. She tells Sora she wants relief, wants him to move, wants anything that she can have. But you’re soft, and weak, filled with want. You cannot help but think of your dream this morning, what you were denied and what you’ve always wanted. So you speak the honest truth. “I want you to kiss me.”

He stares at you for a moment, eyes searching yours. You see your own want reflected in him, an affection that makes your chest ache. Then a smile blooms across his face, one gentler than you deserve. The line he says next is Sora’s, but what comes after is all Law. “Whatever the lady wants,” he murmurs, before his lips meet yours.

The kiss isn’t fireworks, or an all consuming flame, or any other way you’d ever heard such a thing described. It was tender, it was kind, and most importantly, it was Law. You’d never wanted anything else. It finally confirms to you that this isn’t a dream, that he’s really here, pressing you against this wall, a desire burning in him that only you can satiate. The lust is still here, the heat of your bodies intertwined, but there’s something tender and real beneath it. 

Once you both pull back, panting, you look into his eyes and know the scene is well and truly over. Now it’s just you and Law, breaths mingling and hearts pounding. He smiles at you, a nervous, delicate thing, his confidence left behind with the script. He’s breathless as he whispers, “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do that?”

You let out a soft, unsure laugh. “Is that Law talking, or Sora?”

He brushes his nose against yours. “It’s all me. It always has been.”

You can’t help your lovesick smile, dripping with a saccharine fondness you couldn’t hide if you tried. You meet his lips again, a kiss with a little more fire, a little more desperation. You try to convey everything you can’t say aloud: the years of yearning, the pain of thinking this moment would never come, the euphoria of learning you were wrong. Your hands press against his chest, his pulse fluttering under your fingers in unison with your own. You wrap your legs around his waist, desperate to pull him ever closer. He lets out a soft sound, almost a whimper, at the feeling of your lips against his as you clench around him. His tongue slips into your mouth, and once again the air around you grows ever hotter.

“Can I move?” There’s a whine to his voice. “Please.”

“Please do,” you moan, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your chests together. 

He needs no further instruction, thrusting harshly, hips rutting against yours. You can feel him struggle to hold himself back from pounding into you at a bruising pace. His hands grip your hips, his nails digging in as he clenches his teeth.

“You don’t have to hold back, Law. I’ll take anything you want to give me.”

He struggles to speak through his self control. “I want to enjoy this. I want to take my time.” Another deliberate thrust has you dragging your nails down his back, making him moan in your ear. “I want this to be as good as it can be for you.”

“This is–ahh!–already better than I’d ever dreamed, Law.”

One of his hands moves to your clit, his fingers starting a steady motion. “Not good enough,” he mutters. His lips find your neck, placing open mouthed kisses along its length, his teeth grazing your skin. You feel yourself coming close to cumming again, your voice growing louder, echoing through the room as you babble. You don’t even know what you’re begging for, the words please and more and Law are all you can say, all you can think. There is nothing in the world beyond the feeling of him against you, inside of you, his soft lips and callused hands. 

You expect him to rip away your pleasure again, but when he briefly stills, your babbles turn to sobs anyway. He pulls back to look you in the eye, take in the sight of the tears running down your face, and you can see him soften once again. His hands and hips start moving again immediately as he presses soft kisses against your cheeks, clearing away your tears.

“Sorry, sorry, it’s alright. You’re doing great. I won’t take it from you again, I promise.” His voice is filled with pity. “You’ve been so good, you can take what you want now.” He builds you back up quickly, his hips pressing into yours even faster than before. You can feel yourself about to burst, and you slam your lips into his, moaning into his mouth. The dam finally bursts, and the pleasure nearly blinds you as you clench around him, his hips struggling to keep moving with how tightly your legs are wrapped around his waist. Your orgasm is what finally makes him break, filling you to the brim as his movements stutter.

You bask in the feeling for a moment, both panting and dripping with sweat, his cock rapidly softening inside of you. Your head lolls forward, pressing into his shoulder, and you press a kiss against his sticky skin.

“Was it worth the wait?” He tries to ask the question in a teasing tone, but you can hear the insecurity underneath it.

“It was worth everything and more.” You shift to wrap your arms tighter around him and nuzzle your face into his neck. 

You can feel the rumble of his chest as he chuckles, gathering you up as he slips out of you. “Agreed.” He kisses the side of your head, an action so filled with care it nearly makes you burst into tears again. He tries to lower you onto something, making you pull him closer and whine. “I just need to set you down for a second, sweetheart. I’ll be right back.”

“No.” You sound like a pouting child, making you cringe, but he laughs fondly anyway.

“Alright. A few more minutes. But I have to clean you up eventually, and then we need to find a place a bit more private to settle in, don’t you think? Or at least somewhere more comfortable.”

You hum quietly, pressing your nose further into him. You can worry about logistics in a few minutes. Right now you just want to bask in his warmth, in this dream turned reality, in the absolute joy of your feelings being reciprocated. “I really didn’t think you liked me,” you mutter sleepily. “I’m glad I was wrong.”

“I could say the same,” he murmurs into your hair.

You laugh. “Shachi and Peng are going to be so smug about this.”

“They are?”

“They’ve been trying to tell me for years, and they don’t get to tell me I told you so very often.”

“They were telling you too?” He laughs. “We could have done this months ago if we’d just believed them.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, your eyes starting to slip shut. “You’re worth the wait, though.”

You can hear the smile in his voice as his hand rubs soothing circles on your lower back, luring you further into sleep. “Yeah. So are you.”

Tag List:  @pandora-writes-one-piece @shy-writer-999 @saturogojosgirl @dreamcastgirl99 @tochillwithamockingjay 

[nietzhat]

anyway if i was misty just saying i'd leave the group train on my own rejoin and watch ash's progress and pay attention to his fighting styles again and challenge him until i won and then i'd slit his throat i'm sorry

[lamiadrowned]

what if Jinx had an affectionate girlfriend? I want to assume Jinx is touch starved so having a girlfriend that loves cuddles and holding hands is a dream come true

*:･ﾟ✧ jinx with an affectionate girlfriend

jinx x fem!reader | sfw

i love her so much :(

it would take her a bit of time to get used to this dynamic.

her entire life, she’s never put much thought into relationships, nonetheless ever believed she’d end up in one, and she’s so happy she did!

especially with someone who seems to love her so deeply, despite how chaotic and difficult she can be at times.

the first few times you guys go out together, you’re always touching her, and she picks up on that quickly. you’re either holding her hand, fidgeting with her fingers, placing your arm around her waist, or playing with the loose strands of navy blue hair that frame her face.

she has no complaints. it makes her feel… warm. safe. appreciated.

but she doesn’t really think of reciprocating this until a small altercation between the two of you.

one day, you’re sitting on the edge of her workbench, listening intently as she shows you the scribbled blueprint of a new invention she’s working on. you can’t remember the name and you have no idea what any of it means, but you’re nodding like you understand so that she’ll keep talking.

“alright, what’s the problem? is it something i said?” she asks you suddenly.

you tilt your head. “what?”

“don’t play dumb! you haven’t touched me at all today!” she grumbles. “you’re always touching me. i mean, did i do something wrong? or–”

“jinx.” you cut her off firmly. “stop that. you didn’t do anything wrong.”

she looks stumped. so, you continue. “i don’t know. it’s just… you never do it to *me,* you know? it’s always me, touching you. i thought, maybe, you didn’t really like it. something tells me that’s not the case.”

your explanation is met with silence, and she stares at you like she’s seen a ghost.

she can’t believe you feel that way. this whole relationship thing is new to her! she had no idea her own self doubt could end up hurting you the way it did.

her first instinct is to apologize. to reassure you that, going forward, she’d be sure to give you as much as you give her, because she really does love the affection.

in no time, she’s just as cuddly as you!

each night that the two of you spend together is spent wrapped up in each other. legs crossed over legs, arms tangled with arms, faces pressed to chests with a constantly growing need to be closer to each other.

i saw somebody else post something about this, but she’d definitely be the type to say something like ‘i wish i could crawl inside you’. she truly can’t get close enough once she learns how good it feels.

and one of many good effects of this is that when she’s having a particularly bad day, you can calm her down in an instant.

if it happens to be one of many days where she’s hearing voices, seeing things that you can’t see, berating people who aren’t really there, all you need to do is put a hand on her shoulder to make her aware of your presence. it’s grounding enough that you can pull her into a tight hug and stroke her hair as she cries into your shoulder.

if it’s one of those days that she’s just angry, where she feels like everything is horrible and everyone else is rotten, you can change her mind in less than an hour by simply leading her to bed and convincing her to lay down for a bit while you undo her braids and scratch at her scalp.

when you play with her hair, it makes her melt, so you’re careful to preserve that effect– you only do it when you feel like she could really use it.

and as for you, if she finds out you’re having a bad day, jinx has learned from the best and she puts her knowledge to good use.

if you’re alone, she’ll pull you into her lap and caress your back, guiding you to rest your head in the crook of her neck because she knows how much you love to be there. if you want to talk about it, she’ll listen. if you don’t, she’ll pick a random topic to ramble about in hopes to take your mind off of things.

if you’re in public, she’ll grab your hand and squeeze it, stroking your palm with her thumb.

unless it’s somebody in particular that’s bothering you. she has no second thoughts about leaving you for a few minutes to go teach them a lesson. either way, the problem gets solved.

given how long she’s gone without any sort of physical affection, it’ll all be very new to her for a while, but jinx is a quick leaner.

sooner than later, your relationship starts to feel more like a constant competition over who’s more touchy and who can get the last kiss.

it’s so mushy! she hates it.

(she loves it).

[turtle-paced]

How are we supposed to see both Ramsay’s… well everything (since it’s such an open secret) and the “maiden could walk in her nameday suit and not be touched” quote? Am I the only one who finds it inconsistent? How is it possible that Ned didn’t know?

Here's the quote for context:

The Liddle took out a knife and whittled at a stick. "When there was a Stark in Winterfell, a maiden girl could walk the kingsroad in her name-day gown and still go unmolested, and travelers could find fire, bread, and salt at many an inn and holdfast. But the nights are colder now, and doors are closed. There's squids in the wolfswood, and flayed men ride the kingsroad asking after strangers." Bran II, ASoS

I think that this man's perspective of Ned's rule is coloured by the misrule that he's currently seeing. Ned was good, Bolton occupation is bad. That can be true without his words to Bran being 100%, literally, absolute fact. We sure get enough to see that injustices occurred under Ned's watch. Like in the very first chapter, meant to tell us a few key things about the setting.

As for people not knowing about Ramsay...

"No tales were ever told of me. Do you think I would be sitting here if it were otherwise? Your amusements are your own, I will not chide you on that count, but you must be more discreet. A peaceful land, a quiet people. That has always been my rule. Make it yours." Roose to Ramsay, Reek III, ADWD

In that same chapter, Roose talks about cutting tongues out so nobody goes telling the Starks anything. On those occasions where Roose lacks discretion, he actively hushes things up afterwards. He's a bit more organised than, say, Jorah and his selling people into slavery. The Jorah incident is worth noting, actually - it demonstrates that when Ned did see his bannerpeople breaking the rules, he went and enforced them despite the perpetrator's social class and family name. Ned wanted a situation where a maiden girl could walk the Kingsroad naked and go unmolested, and did his best to get there. That's all the more reason for Roose, who isn't stupid and isn't rash, to conceal the shit he does and the shit his son does.

[beautifullilacsky]

"Will you overthinking this?" He asked as we were walking hand in hand in the park.

Me, fully aware I have already started overthinking the moment he mentioned that her friend broke off her relationship: "....... juuup"

"What are you overthinking about? Lets discuss it together, let me help"... I explained how, maybe, now that she is single, she might try to get over a guy by getting under another one. Or maybe, since you guys tall about problems and are pretty close, she turns to flirting now that she is single. "Okay and? Why would I get into that while I have my girlfriend at home? I would say no thank you. Also, I don't think she is the person to do that. I have met her before she was in a relationship, and she also wasn't like this then". Okay, well, .. maybe she will have heard bad things about me and will not like me or she will think I am not good enough for you, or too much, and tell you to break up with me. I mean, I'm in a relationship with you, not with her, but ja, well... He put his arms around me and stopped us from walking on, hugging me from behind. "Sometimes I forget how insecure you can be. Do you really think I'll just break up with you because someone tells me to? And besides, I think you should meet her. She is really kind and everytime I mentioned something, she was always more on the reassuring side." Well, I also thought your other friend was kind.. "..... true. ..... I don't have an argument against that."

"So... if she were to still be in a relationship, would it be okay? .. meh, I feel like that's a bad excuse. "Yeah she is in a relationship anyway" , as if that changes anything. Doesn't that sound like a bad thing to you?" Hmm. Well. Honestly, I felt better when she was in a relationship, assuming it wasn't an u know who typa relationship. It's always a 2 people's decision. And that way, I am at least sure that one side is on the no side (as I said it out loud, I realized how fuckedup it sounded.) "Shouldn't you trust me to already be on the no side?" .... I should, yes. I just don't know what to make of the fact that you told me that you can't promise me that it won't happen again. "That was a year ago" .... "back then I wasn't super sure, and before that I was def not sure. Also, I did not want to force you to trust me (def different exact words from his, buthey, u get the point.). It's been a year." Would you get back to it and say something different now then? "Yes. I am sure that it will never happen again".

And there it was. I know he is a firm believer in actions over words, but sometimes I need words to be sure. He told me that he tells me the truth, and I know he does. Thus, if he tells me, I believe him. So. Maybe this is what I needed to truly get to trusting him again. His word. It's not a signed contract, I know. I can't sue him if his words turn out to be false. Though, I needed this. I needed his faith in himself to make sure it won't happen again. Fuck damn hey. I needed him to believe in himself. If he doesn't believe he will stop it the next time, who am I to believe so? Well well well. Before he left, if our roommate wasn't sitting right next to me, I would've said after he asked me if I'm still okay (for like, the 3th time): "if you say it won't happen again, I trust you." Fuck. And I'd mean it. I feel like I have entered a new reality. One in which it is safe for me to have faith in him. In which, sure, maybe a girl will flirt with him, but I can laugh about it. I can be proud to be with that hotstuff that she can't help but talk to. I can make jokes about it and raise my eyebrows up and down. I can do it all, and enjoy the situation, knowing. Truly knowing. That it doesn't matter at all if the other party is on the "yes-boat". He isn't, and he won't get onto it either. Even if a chance presents itself, he won't even see it as one. He has the set in stone plan to come back home to me. Even if she would get him drunk and touch him all over, ... he will say no. Even if it scares me more with booze, he is still himself. He doesn't get into a crazy trans and turns into a different person with different values. He is still the same person who held my hand as we walked in the autumn colored park, and said that it would never happen again.

It feels like something in me has been freed. As if trust was a fluffy creature within me, which was tied down. His words freed it. It still can't believe that the tiny trust guy is free. That it's safe to stand up now and run and smile and truly trust. It's astonished, grasping for those words that set it free. Wanting to hold them and craving for them to invade its veins with its lightning energy and brightness. May it no longer feel the need to stay on the ground; the ties have been undone. Fuck.

[turbolezgooo]

Why ya'll hate on Cait and call her a dictator?

Well-written characters often have a story deeper than what you explicitly see them do or hear them say. Just because everything is set in a fantasy world, doesn't mean that characters are not affected by tragic events and the human condition.

First of all, Cait wasn't the one who made a police state. Ambessa and the council did that. Ambessa orchestrated the whole thing. Cait went along with it because she was turned around by grief. That shit messes with your judgment, but she was still trying to do what she and Vi agreed on. To focus on the real problem and prevent hurting innocent people.

Cait tried to control an unraveling situation AND literal warlord WHILE being inexperienced in how to deal with it, having a big ol' lesbian break up, AND dying inside.

You could see that when Cait argued to Ambessa that there are innocent people and there MUST be justifiable cause to arrest anyone. In Cait and Ambessa's interactions it's implied that Cait was getting in the way of Ambessa's agenda off-screen. She tried to keep something worse from happening because she does acknowledge the historical and current oppression of Zaunites.

This mirrors the way she offered Vi the badge to give her a voice in what happens to her sister if the enforcers caught her. The enforcers coming after Jinx was going to happen regardless of Cait. She took control by volunteering and taking precautions. See- While they did use gas, Vi would never agree to something that would permanently hurt the people of Zaun. The tactic gave them fewer chances of having to physically fight Zaunites who were just trying to defend themselves. Believe it or not, it was a controlled operation until grief got the better of Cait and things looked worse than it actually was.

The way that Cait deeply believes in equality in spite of a personal vendetta is why Ambessa sent Maddie to try and control her by 'filling' her hole (no pun intended). When Maddie attempted to have Cait stop the police state situation and withdraw, she did focus on Jinx at first but the second part of not wanting to make things worse was something she had a lot more to say about before Maddie interrupted. And Cait was right. What would have happened if she hadn't taken the role and played along? A puppet councillor or Ambessa herself would have been the figure head and do so much worse. Those people don't have the same perspective and understanding as Cait.

When Cait and Vi argue about listening to a war pig oink poison in her ear, she yells "I know!" as she throws a piece of war ship used in strategizing. You can tell her role was a strategic choice to have some control over the events that unfolded. That's why Vi didn't villinize her. Vi understood that Cait never really accepted anything Ambessa said. That's why she helped Vi at the commune. Cait was a double agent taking shit from all sides to stop worse things from happening.

She had grief and really crap options, but she always chose the lesser of the evils to try and stay true to who she really was. She even resigns in her argument with Vi, that she didn't put Jinx, her own mother's killer, in jail or punish her in any way. It's another example of her faltering in decision-making when overwhelming or unexpected things happen and it also tells us what she is. She's human. She doesn't make excuses for taking on an objectively bad role and making mistakes. When she said "We can't erase our mistakes.", she's also talking about herself. She takes responsibility and tries to do good. In the end, all she wanted was closure for her grief by having Jinx accept responsibility NOT by killing or abusing her or innocent Zaunites for that matter.

Imo there's a lot in Arcane that shows Cait as a flawed but inherently good person, and Vi absolutely knows it. They see each other warts and all. If you think CaitVi's lex scene was poorly written read this: https://www.tumblr.com/turbolezgooo/768190482340773888/bro-this-outrage-about-caitvi-relationship-in-s2?source=share

[saixria]

@angels-bullshit well you asked for it TELEMACHUS RAMBLE

I’m sure there’s no doubt in anyone’s mind that Telemachus represents open arms. For one, he immediately accepts Athena as his friend with open arms and offers the goddess of wisdom some wisdom in We’ll be fine, that’s just. Peak open arms behavior.

Besides the obvious, we can look into the motif (literary, not musical) of light vs dark in the musical (which might also be obvious but anyway). Even if we ignore Polites’ whole cut song “Your Light” about being Odysseus’ “light”, the light motif is actually kept in Open Arms — “we can light up the world here’s how to start”. I think this motif symbolizes the positive impact of open arms. Much like Circe said, “maybe showing one act of kindness leads to kinder souls down the road”. If you inspire the world around you by being kind, you will in turn be treated with kindness. This is contrasted by the motifs of darkness in “I am your darkest moment” and “the world is dark” signifying ruthlessness. Instead of trying to change the ruthless world around you, you must become ruthless too to survive. There’s inherent selfishness to ruthlessness since you’re ensuring your own survival over others.

WHAT A TANGENT OK HOW DOES THIS RELATE TO TELEMACHUS? He has this line in Legendary “so I could bring the world some light” which references Polites’ whole “light up the world”. Let’s not forget “tell me Athena why you came to my aid” has the same melody as “what keeps you up so late at night my friend” from cut song Ismarus where Polites is asking Odysseus this. (HM I WONDER WHAT OTHER CHARACTER IS UNABLE TO SLEEP DUE TO GUILT)

The light thing comes back so many times in we’ll be fine. “Then his light went dark” (can be interpreted as Polites, his “light”, dying, but I prefer to interpret it as him basically getting traumatized, losing his original enthusiasm in his belief that everything would go smoothly and he’d be able to get home with all 600 men as he suffers his very first casualties) “life could be that bright” — Not only is Athena talking about Odysseus losing his light, she herself has also lost hers as she lost her one and only friend and the positive impact he had on her life, and now it feels as though her life has gone dark.

“I know it’s light you’ll find” — Telemachus is literally acting as Athena’s light here as Polites was Odysseus’ 😭😭 he encourages her to help Odysseus, to embrace the Open Arms ideology of making a positive impact on the world around you and you’ll end up positively affected as well. In bringing Odysseus light, perhaps she herself will also regain hers. From all this, Telemachus clearly represents Open Arms and is to Athena what Polites was to Odysseus.

Now how does Telemachus embody ruthlessness? This part is much shorter since we don’t have as much to analyze (perhaps we’ll get more in Ithaca saga) but Telemachus doesn’t shy away from being ruthless when the need arises either. He fights Antinuous in Little Wolf to defend his family’s honor, and in Ithaca saga he will also help kill the suitors (perhaps we will get more on his mindset here, but don’t take my word on that). He is willing to do what it takes, even if it’s cruel like hunting down all the suitors, to protect his family, and killing the suitors IS what’s necessary and an act of ruthlessness.

(Though actually this is making me realize “boy I wish I could so I could bring the world some light” was referring to… killing monsters. Maybe this shows that even in Legendary he’s wanted to make a positive impact on the world by being ruthless in a way, further showing that he’s the true balance of Ruthlessness and Open Arms)

Anyway, Telemachus was really only able to achieve this balance because of his circumstances, just as Odysseus was forced to fully embrace ruthlessness because of his. While Telemachus has faced hardships (the suitors) that requires ruthlessness to be dealt with, hes also a crowned, sheltered prince, largely unaffected by even darker aspects of the world like war and death as Odysseus has been, so Telemachus was able to retain part of his innocence and his “light” while Odysseus’ was stripped from him. Both of them were products of their environments, and it’s quite fitting how Odysseus went to war to protect his son, and his son ended up being a “better” person than Odysseus was forced to become. Telemachus means “far from battle”, and indeed Odysseus has succeeded in keeping his son far from the darkness of war and its aftermath.

[rhymeswithchronic]

*shimmies up to the mic*

*gently taps on it*

*clears throat*

Episode 6 just solidified PvP Civ as being better then Parkour Civ

*runs away as fast as possible*

OKAY LISTEN I will literally commit war crimes for EMF, my scrungly, and Parkour God Evbo, but to be perfectly honest most of the things that make the characters so lovable is headcanon or fanon. Parkour Civ is loved for the story, the light hearted nature and humor, ~the yaoi potential~ and the messages

Episode 6 alone has just solidified almost the entire cast of PvP Civ as individual, thought out characters. Really, the only one in ParkCiv with that kind of thought was Seawatt, with his tragic motivations followed by his death.

Parrot and Tabi have become SO MUCH MORE interesting because of the reveals, and I think Tabi has just immediately become one of my favorites because she’s just so INTERESTING. Someone who is so determined to reach a goal that she doesn’t care if she kills people in her way, but who also consciously *did not permanently kill Evbo despite having the ability to do so*. There’s still SOMETHING there that caused her to use the axe instead of the Eternal Sword, and THAT is the part of her that I think is truly her.

She was talking to someone towards the beginning (our great Parkour Villain himself can’t wait for PvP Villain ClownPierce) but there was something off about their conversation. Clown suggests that she shouldn’t be the one to do this because she’s younger and she “doesn’t deserve to die yet”. Something about their plan does not end well for the one who has to carry it out. Tabi is doing something and possibly sacrificing herself in the process.

Now here’s the thing: Why did she kill Evbo at all?

It could be for the reason that is presented to us. Because she doesn’t care about him. Because he was a tool she used to get what she needed and she didn’t care what had to happen to him for her to get there. She only brought up the literal torture he suffered FOR HER as a way to manipulate him further into following her orders, and now he’s just an obstacle

But that *doesn’t make sense*

If he was just an obstacle, WHY did she let him respawn? We can assume she didn’t know that Prince Zam was waiting since if she wanted Evbo to be killed and not respawn, she easily could’ve done that herself. But she DIDNT. She actively chose to use her axe on him and let him respawn. She has to know that Evbo is going to come after her. She has to know that Evbos continued existence, especially as a Natural Born Sword, is detrimental to their plan. She knows this and she chose to use her axe anyway

That leaves us with the other possible reason:

Tabi did it to SAVE Evbo

Hear me out on this. Talking about her discussion with Clown, here’s how it goes:

“Let me be the one to do it. You have a longer life that I do, and you don’t deserve to die yet.”

“We’re all gonna die if we don’t get that sword, and you know I’m the only one good enough to get it.”

Clown suggests here that somehow, this plan will end up with someone dying. He is offering himself because she “has a longer life”, which could mean he’s older and has lower durability than her, or something else entirely, but that’s up in the air.

Tabi is SMART. She knows exactly what she’s doing and why. She knows that there’s a solid chance that she will die, but she’s willing to risk that for immortality. “We’re all gonna die”? Because of the other kingdoms?

Whatever it is, whatever she meant, she did not want Evbo as a part of this. She told him to move first. Attacking was not her first priority. She didn’t want to kill him, but she knew one thing:

Evbo could not go with her.

If she stayed true to her word, if she left together with Evbo, she knew he would want to stay with her. He would stay by her side no matter what. And she just couldn’t bare the idea of leading Evbo to his own death from their plan. Maybe she was hoping giving her the time to flee would allow the Diamond Swords to convince Evbo to not leave at all. Not like it would take much convincing (in her eyes) since he was already attached. Inside of the civilization is the safest place for someone as trusting and naive as him. She wanted to keep him safe, and if he came with her, the same thing that would kill her would end up killing him.

Tabi killed Evbo to save him I rest my case

[multipleoccupancy]

Theo didn't think to explain that the recruitment criteria was based around a mental resilience to witnessing the supernatural, he knew they both had that resilience and since he was not recruiting her, he didn't bother to explain further that sometimes the 'cream of the crop' was not always what was available, and so they ended up with agents like Davidson among others. Unaware that he had not fully reassured her on her worry of him going off to lecture other agents, Theo thought the topic moved on.

His eyebrow raised again and he let out a short chuckle as her questioning continued. "What I mean is you will never find any evidence of it on paper, in any government declaration," which while not strictly true of the past, those documents were not likely to be released any time soon. "There is an internal structure, it does exist, but not on paper. If that makes sense?"

She revealed she was suffering from nightmares and while that was not strictly new for Violet, Theo did worry that they seemed to be having an impact on her at the moment and given she had just come from the ward too, he assumed they were about that place and its 'practices'. He wasn't sure if he was ready to talk more about the ward just in case and so he could understand Violet's hesitation in turn. "I know I am not really very available right now," usually he was up in the kitchen if she woke up from her nightmares but of course he had been shut up in the office lately. "But your mom will want to help you too, comfort you and look after you as much as she can if you're upset. You can go to her you know, she'll do anything for you."

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

Violet was reassured by her father's words, but more so by his little wink. It was a sign that he was indeed getting better. A reminder of who he was before his memories came back. Her shoulders relaxed. "I know you can," she replied with a little smile, "you're the coolest agent Delta Green has." But if Delta Green could recruit agents like Davidson, she was inclined to believe they could recruit more terrible people. Oh, Violet knew she was going to be worried sick the next time he'd have to leave home for 'work'.

"I see..." So even the military didn't know, not really at least. She supposed it made sense. Delta Green being secret meant they could do virtually anything and everything to try and save the world. It also meant they could use despicable recruitment methods. Or used to, at least. "If Delta Green doesn't exist, how do they hire people? Samantha works as HR, so there is some structure to it." Violet was not going to stop asking questions. She knew her dad could simply refuse to answer, or put an end to the conversation if he wanted.

Should she tell her dad what was bothering her? She didn't want to cause him any added worries, but she could tell he had seen right through her -he had that look he always had when he knew she wasn't telling him everything. "I have nightmares, that's all," she admitted a little dismissively, "nothing too bad. They'll stop over time." The memories were just very fresh.

[glossdebut]

PRICE OF FAME | MYG ★ 02

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SERIES SUMMARY: You were about ready to give up, your career nowhere near what you dreamed it’d be when you started at eighteen, bright-eyed and naive. Reality for you these past few years has consisted of pouting at a camera, ignoring whispers of your name at company events, and ensuring that the stupid, tiny designer purses they keep forcing on you can at least carry a flask. But now, you’re helping a friend in need. For the first time in a long time, it feels like you’re doing something worthwhile with your life. Too bad Min Yoongi, the newest thorn in your side, seems insistent on stopping you.

✧ SERIES TAGS: enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, smut, fake/pretend relationship (not main couple), rockstar!yoongi, model!reader, guitarist yoongi, singer jungkook, bassist taehyung, drummer jimin, manager namjoon, yoongi & maknae line are in a rock band, reader & seokjin are best friends, yoongi & hoseok are best friends (sope duo ftw), yoongi has a tongue piercing, reader is a brat

✧ CHAPTER WARNINGS: aqua uses her journalism degree to write a fake article, lots of yoongi pov, MC lore drop, extremely brief descriptions of sexual acts, some questions are answered but not many, sope cameo! also seokjin cameo! do you detect a hint of hyyh yoonkook-ism? because you should! EVENTS TRANSPIRE! (see series masterlist for series warnings)

✧ CHAPTER WORDCOUNT: 5.2k words

✧ AUTHOR’S NOTE: damn i always drop early don't i? here's a pre-holiday gift for those of you who celebrate thanksgiving. thank you to tanni @yooniivrse for beta reading SO FUCKING FAST LOL <3

p.s. from here on out updates are going to be much slower. we’re getting to the Real Plot now and i have to use my brain a little bit more. plus i want to make time to write other, shorter things! so be sure to check out my other fics if waiting for this becomes unbearable lol

CH. 02: A HIT IS HARD TO RESIST

Love in the Spotlight: Is "Burn The Stage" Singer Falling for a Scandal Magnet?

It’s the love story that’s rocking Seoul—and leaving fans divided. Jeon Jeongguk, the smooth-talking, chart-topping frontman of “Burn The Stage,” has been the subject of intense speculation after rumors surfaced that he’s been secretly seeing one of South Korea’s most talked about models, YLN YN. And while Jeongguk’s millions of fans would do anything to claim him as their own, it’s YN’s wild reputation that’s making this relationship one to watch.

The dating rumors of the two surfaced online when YN was seen on the balcony at Wasteland during the final show of the Burn The Stage’s world tour. Eyewitnesses claim that after the show, the two were spotted backstage together, sharing a private moment.

While Jeongguk’s image has been polished and pristine despite his rock star persona, YN’s name is frequently linked with controversy. From a string of public feuds with fellow influencers to rumors of reckless behavior, she has garnered a reputation for attracting scandal wherever she goes—a trait at odds with what fans have seen from Jeongguk. So what could possibly draw the two together?

Some fans are already sounding the alarm, warning Jeongguk that dating someone like YN could tarnish his squeaky-clean image.

“I don’t know why Jeongguk would choose her,” one concerned fan commented on Instagram. “She’s trouble, and he’s too good for her. His image will be ruined if this is true.”

Despite the criticism, others are rallying behind the couple, suggesting that Jeongguk may be the one to help YN change her ways. “Everyone has a past,” one fan posted on X (formerly known as Twitter). “Maybe Jeongguk sees something in her that no one else does. People can grow and evolve.”

While neither Jeongguk or YN’s companies have released an official statement on the matter, YN hasn’t been shy about fueling the rumors. In a recent post on her Instagram, she shared a photo of herself wearing a Burn The Stage hoodie, captioning it, “i guess i’ve got good taste 👀” which has sent fans into overdrive speculating that she’s sending a not-so-subtle message about her relationship with Jeongguk.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Yoongi groans to himself. He can’t read any more of this drivel. The wooden table in front of him suddenly looks all too inviting, perfect for him to bash his skull into.

You’re everywhere, completely inescapable for the past week. Apparently, Yoongi’s bi-weekly breakfast with Hoseok is no exception. The first one they’ve been able to have since the tour, too. God forbid he wants to mindlessly scroll on his phone for a second while he waits for his friend to return, because there you are, taunting him. 

After the concert, Yoongi had been so annoyed by seeing you again. Pissed off at the circumstances. Ready to do anything in his power to extricate you from Jeongguk as fast as possible.

The past week has dulled his rage considerably. The endorphins of playing live have died, as have the potent emotions that come with them. Yoongi’s logical adult brain has set in, leaving him with only a headache.

“Woah,” Hoseok says, snorting as he slides a coffee into Yoongi’s field of vision. He slips into the booth across from him, taking a sip from his own cup with an amused look on his face. “You look much more homicidal than I left you. What could’ve possibly pissed you off in the last five minutes?”

Wordlessly, Yoongi hands Hoseok his phone, the article still displayed on the screen. Hoseok silently reads the first few paragraphs, and when he scrolls back up to look at the photo attached, his eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“Oh?” he says, zooming in on your face. On Yoongi’s phone. The audacity. “This is the Innisfree girl, right? She’s dating Jeongguk?”

“Allegedly.”

“Is her skin really that nice in person?”

“Not the point,” Yoongi hisses, snatching his phone back from Hoseok’s grip and hastily closing the article to get your dumb face off of his phone. Dumb, poreless face.

“Okay, touchy,” Hoseok says, raising his hands in surrender. “Please explain the point.”

“I don’t trust her,” Yoongi says, tapping his foot under the table. “The relationship is bogus. She’s after something, I just can’t figure out what it is.”

“And you’re basing this on…?”

“Intuition,” Yoongi says flatly.

“Right. Because your intuition is never wrong,” Hoseok says, tone laden with sarcasm. “Need I remind you that you weren’t the biggest fan of me when we met?”

“I thought you were annoying,” Yoongi agrees. He takes a sip of his coffee to mask a smirk. “Who says I was wrong about that?”

“I’d probably be hurt if you hadn’t essentially bought us couple rings last year,” Hoseok says, waggling his eyebrows. “You want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid.”

“Aish, they weren’t couple rings,” Yoongi complains. “Stop saying that. The wrong person is going to hear you and think it’s true.”

“Your ears are pink!” Hoseok exclaims triumphantly, pointing at the evidence. “Your mouth says one thing, but your ears always give you away.”

“I’m going to kill you,” Yoongi grumbles, pulling his beanie down. “Stop changing the subject.”

“Right, right. Sorry, hyung, you’re just so easy to tease,” Hoseok says, not even bothering to stifle his snickering. The bastard. “Jeonggukie’s new lady love. Go. Wait, do you want to fuck her?”

“What?” Yoongi sputters, eyes widening because what the fuck? “No—what? Look, it’s not just intuition, okay? I’m right about her. And you saw what the article said—drama follows her wherever she goes. Maybe she thinks dating Jeongguk will rehabilitate her image, or something like that.”

Yoongi had been so confident that wasn’t the case, since you’ve maintained all of your brand deals even in the midst of your many scandals, but maybe he was wrong. He still doesn’t know why you’re doing this, and it’s like the closer he gets, the less he can see.

“I don’t know,” Yoongi groans, rubbing his hands over his face. “She’s also just a bitch.”

“Okay,” Hoseok concedes, crossing his arms. “If you say so. She’s a bitch who you don’t want to fuck. What are you going to do about it?”

Yoongi shrugs. “I have that dinner tomorrow night. I was thinking of talking to Jeongguk after or something.”

“And telling him that his girlfriend is the devil? I’m sure that’ll go over well.”

“I’ll figure it out,” Yoongi sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “Jeongguk is a stubborn kid, but he knows I wouldn’t ruin something good for him. If I word it right, maybe he’ll listen.”

“You’re not wrong. For whatever reason, Jeongguk trusts your judgement.”

Yoongi glares at him. “Go fuck yourself, Hob-ah.”

“Whatever, hyung,” Hoseok says, rolling his eyes. “Let’s talk about something else, please. I haven’t seen you in months.”

Yoongi relents easily. He doesn’t really want to be talking about you either, not when it feels like an ice pick is being jammed into his temple. 

He’ll just have to figure out what to say to Jeongguk later.

★ ★ ★

“Wow,” Seokjin says around a mouthful of jjapaguri. “He really hates you, huh?”

He’s fresh out of a long shift at the hospital, but he still headed straight to your apartment at the promise of food and celebrity gossip—his two biggest weaknesses, especially when the food doesn’t have to be made by him and the celebrity is you.

“Seems like it,” you sigh, using your chopsticks to push your noodles around aimlessly. “Normally I wouldn’t care, you know? Like, get in line, asshole.”

“But you care.”

“But I care.”

“Because of Jeongguk,” Seokjin says knowingly.

You drop your chopsticks and groan, stifling the sound by covering your face with your hands.

“Yes,” you concede. “But not because of that. I just want to help him, you know? He got me through a really rough spot last year. I’d feel like shit if I agreed to do this for him and then it ended up blowing up in our faces because of me.”

“Mmm,” Seokjin hums, chewing thoughtfully. “I’m sure the fact that you’re in love with him is a big motivator, though.”

You pick up your head, glaring at him. “Love is a big word, Jin.”

A very big word, you think, picking up your glass of wine to take a long gulp. God help you.

“A fitting one, too!” he says gleefully. “Come oooon. No judgement here. He’s hot. Not as hot as me, of course, but I have to give credit where credit is due.”

“Yes, you’re a god among men,” you mumble, rolling your eyes. “I don’t love Jeongguk. Not like that, at least. Do I need to remind you of the whole reason I’m doing this in the first place?”

“Yeah, yeah, the secret girlfriend,” Seokjin says, waving a hand dismissively. “Whatever. You’re spending a lot of time with him, is all I’m saying. The tides may turn in your favor.”

Wow, and you thought you were delusional.

“Fat chance,” you deadpan, polishing off your wine. “Especially if Yoongi is as persistent as he’s making himself out to be.”

“What’s his beef with you, anyway?” Seokjin asks, snorting to himself as he picks up a piece of steak with his chopsticks. Hilarious. “I feel like he’s going a little far for it to just be protectiveness, you know?”

Right. When you’d given Seokjin the rundown via text, you’d left one pretty substantial piece of information out.

“He said, um,” you start, picking at one of your nails nervously—a habit that Hyerin would smack you on the back of the head for, if she were here. “He said that he knows… more than I think.”

Just like that, all of the humor drains from Seokjin’s expression. “Meaning…?”

“I don’t know,” you say, your voice wobbling just a bit. “I don’t know, but if it does mean that… It makes the idea of rolling over and doing what he says pretty enticing, not gonna lie.”

“Fuck that,” Seokjin says firmly, your eyes widening in response. “If he’s the type of guy to use something like that as blackmail, then he’s a piece of shit. I don’t care if he is trying to protect Jeongguk.”

“He can’t know, though,” you groan, fully resting your head on the cool marble of your kitchen countertop now. 

You’ve been wracking your brain for days now, trying to figure out if it’s even possible for Yoongi to know anything. You’re pretty confident the answer is no, but there’s no way to be one-hundred percent sure without confirmation from the man himself. And you’d honestly rather die.

“Nobody knows except the people involved and you. You’re the only one who didn’t sign an NDA, and I’m pretty confident you’ve never met Min Yoongi. Not to mention you just wouldn’t—”

“Share that information? Hell no, I wouldn’t,” Seokjin interrupts, scoffing. “Okay, well… Regardless of whether he knows anything, he honestly just sounds like a dick and I think you should kill him.”

You snort, lifting your eyes to look at him from where your head rests on the counter. “Maybe that can be plan B,” you offer.

“Fine, then what’s the plan A?” Seokjin counters, crossing his arms and raising a conspiratorial eyebrow at you.

Fantastic question, one you’ve been thinking about the answer to since you abruptly left the afterparty that night. It’s not like you can tell Jeongguk what’s going on and risk having to tell him the whole truth. You trust Jeongguk, but…

No, it’s not an option. You don’t want anyone else to know. So, if Yoongi’s going to insist on being a problem for you, you might as well return the favor. It’s only fair.

You grin, lifting your head and leaning closer to Seokjin.

“I’m going to make his life a living hell.”

★ ★ ★

Yoongi hasn’t touched a cigarette since he was twenty one years old.

He picked up the nasty habit at sixteen, when one of his friends doled out African Ice Jacks amongst the group, bragging that his hyung had bought the pack for him. As soon as the lighter was flicked on and the bittersweet taste of bubblegum and tobacco filled Yoongi’s lungs, he was hooked.

It was stupidly easy to get his hands on cigarettes before he was of legal age, even when his friend’s hyung couldn’t supply them for whatever reason. All of the adults around him smoked, including his parents. 

It felt as though cigarettes were an extension of his hand, felt wrong when he didn’t have the option to light one up. During school hours, Yoongi’s fingers would twitch on his desk as he waited for his last class to end.

He was a fucking anxious, wound-up kid. Smoking was the only thing that helped, sometimes. If he had a shit day, at least he could have a cigarette.

When the band got signed, though, things changed. Despite the fact that the majority of the population in Korea smoked, celebrities were vilified for it in the media. For whatever fucking reason. Yoongi didn’t care much what the media had to say about him, but he reasoned that it would be pretty stupid to let his dream die over Ice Jacks. So he quit.

It was hard at first, but it’s been five years now. After so much time, it’s rare that cigarettes even cross his mind, even when others smoke around him.

Sitting across the table from you now, though, Yoongi’s fingers twitch just like they had when he was in grade school staring at a clock.

He and the band started frequenting Yoojung Sikdang long before there was any real hope for fame. It was their chosen spot after every practice. The ajumma who owns it knows their names, remembers their orders by heart. Over the years, the only part of the restaurant that’s changed is their autographed photos on the wall. They’ve celebrated every single milestone here, big or small, just the five of them. Alone.

Wrapping up their first world tour should be no different. It’s their biggest milestone yet, and all Yoongi wanted was to eat ssambap with his best friends. Remind himself that none of the fame matters as long as they still have this.

But here you are. Of course. Encroaching on everything Yoongi’s built, everything he holds dear to his heart.

The only time it’s ever been more than the five of them here was the night they signed their contract, accompanied by two label executives. Even if you’re allegedly riding Jeongguk’s dick, no way are you that fucking important.

Yoongi would laugh if he wasn’t so pissed off. You are such a fucking pest. He just can’t shake you off.

“You don’t like what you ordered?” Jimin asks you, snapping Yoongi out of his thoughts.

Yoongi’s made an effort to keep to himself for the majority of the dinner. No use in ruining everyone else’s night—it’s still a special one, after all. Besides, he’s still trying to be an adult about things. You may have ruined his plan to talk to Jeongguk tonight, but it’s not like he’s going to cause a scene in front of a restaurant full of people—

“Oh, I’m just not very hungry,” you say. Yoongi’s eyes narrow.

All you’ve been doing all night is burrowing into Jeongguk’s side, barely touching your food. Lipgloss still perfectly in place. Normally, Yoongi wouldn’t care—he’s not paying for it. He wastes food on the label’s dime all the time. At Yoojung Sikdang, though?

“Why did you come, then?” 

The words come out of Yoongi’s mouth before he can stop them, sharp and pointed. He’d fully intended to keep his mouth shut, eat his food, and then go home. Maybe buy a pack on the way. But now they’re out there, and Yoongi can’t bring himself to care. Certainly not to feel bad.

For the first time since you’d walked in on Jeongguk’s arm, you make eye contact with him. On purpose this time—challenging. Yoongi’s not a little bitch, so he stares back. 

“Because Jeonggukie invited me,” you say, faux sweetness dripping from your words as you lean your head on Jeongguk’s shoulder. Eyes still fixed on Yoongi. “I figured it would be okay, since you all gave me such a warm welcome last time.”

Yeah. Yoongi’s buying that pack of cigarettes. 

“You’re always welcome to come out with us,” Taehyung coos, like he thinks you’re the cutest thing in the world. Knowing Taehyung, he probably does.

Everyone seems to be in agreement on that front, too, except Yoongi who rolls his eyes as he shoves a ssam into his mouth. Whatever.

“It’s gonna be hell getting you out of here, though,” Namjoon adds from Yoongi’s left. He leans over to glance at the crowd of people peering through the front of the restaurant, cameras at the ready, desperate to get a glimpse of you and Jeongguk. Not that you’re making it particularly hard.

“We’ve never had a crowd like that out there,” Jimin says, in awe. “I’m not surprised, though. Those articles about you two have been getting tons of clicks.”

“Ah,” you say. If Yoongi didn’t know better, he’d think you sound almost sheepish. “That, um. That might be my fault. I told my manager I was coming here. She must’ve tipped someone off.”

Of course.

“Anything for a photo-op, right?” Yoongi sneers, unable to help himself. It’s such an easy shot, after all. You’re being so transparent.

“Hyung,” Taehyung says, eyes wide as if he’s appalled. 

“I’m sorry, Yoongi-ssi,” you say, tilting your head at him. That little flash of a challenge is still in your eyes, and Yoongi doesn’t like it one bit. “Do you have a problem with me being here?”

Yoongi scoffs, sitting up. When he speaks, it’s laced with bitterness. “We just don’t normally come here with guests, that’s all. I guess I didn’t get the memo that that’d suddenly changed.”

“I invited her, hyung,” Jeongguk says. “She’s my girlfriend.” He wraps his arm around you protectively and, fuck, you’re good. You’re so good at making Yoongi look like the asshole.

“I get that, Guk-ah,” Yoongi tries, his voice considerably softer now. “But, come on… Here? And the mob outside, I mean… Do you really think that was just a harmless mistake?”

“What are you implying?” Jeongguk grits out. He’s angry now, that much is clear, and it’s Yoongi’s fault. 

You have him trapped. He’s surrounded by landmines, unable to come up with a single response that could possibly defuse them.

“Come on, guys,” Namjoon says, glancing at Yoongi pointedly. “We’re here to celebrate.”

“If Yoongi-ssi is uncomfortable that I’m here, maybe I should go,” you say, making to get up.

Jeongguk reaches for your arm, stopping you. “No,” he says. “Yoongi-hyung, you can either get over it and stay with us, or you can leave. You’re the only one who doesn’t want her here.”

Un-fucking-believable.

“Are you serious?” Yoongi scoffs, looking around at everyone. Is this really happening to him right now? This is his band!

The table is deadly silent. Everyone refuses to meet Yoongi’s eyes except you and Jeongguk, who raises a challenging eyebrow at him. It’s immediately apparent to Yoongi that he’s not winning this one. That somehow, he’s ruined the night meant to celebrate him and his friends.

Bitterly, Yoongi laughs. “Fine.”

No one protests when he pushes his chair away from the table and stands up, and that stings much more than Yoongi would like to admit.

He catches your eye as he grabs his jacket off the back of his chair, anger flaring at how pleased you look. 

“Have a nice fucking dinner,” Yoongi mutters, before turning on his heel and walking towards the door. Leaving his friends to face a crowd of photographers and fans that you called.

As he walks out into the cold, dodging the phones being shoved in his face, all he can think about is the way Jeongguk had looked at him.

★ ★ ★

You met Jeon Jeongguk a year ago, give or take a few months. You just remember it was cold.

Less than twenty-four hours after a particularly nasty breakup with a guy you didn’t love but liked enough, you were back on the clock. Zipped into something tight and expensive, wearing the best waterproof mascara money could buy.

You hated those events to begin with—the galas, end of year ceremonies for awards you were no longer viable to win. They were torture for you. But the sting of being freshly single only made things worse, so you had decided to make the most of it.

You may not have been able to win a KMA, but you were well within your rights to treat the KMAs themselves like your own personal dating pool. No better way to rid yourself of your ex like getting with someone new, you thought.

Which is where Jeongguk came in, devastatingly hot in his tailored suit. You’d ran into him on your way from the bathroom—much like you had with Yoongi, now that you think about it—and you instantly found yourself wondering what it would be like to kiss a guy with a lip ring. Jeongguk, as it turned out, was very interested in showing you. 

You were both a little drunk, but the attraction was real. Instant. 

One very handsy cab ride later, and you were in his apartment, grinding on his lap as you experienced first-hand just how little of an obstacle a lip ring can be if the man who has it knows what he’s doing.

Things were going so well—Jeongguk’s tongue exploring your mouth as you felt his cock stiffening beneath you. But it all came crashing down as soon as his hand slid under your dress.

The fact of the matter was, you’d just been dumped. Regardless of how strongly you did or didn’t feel about your ex, you’d still been dumped and it still hurt. As soon as Jeongguk really touched you, it became all too apparent that you wouldn’t be able to go through with it. Luckily, at the slightest bit of hesitance from you, Jeongguk’s hand immediately retreated from under your dress. 

He was sweet about it. Really, really sweet. Valiantly ignored his erection and offered to listen instead, which made you laugh. Comforted you even though you hadn’t thought you needed it. Let you sleep in his bed anyway. When you left the next morning, kindly offered to be your friend, because you clearly needed one.

You’ve been friends ever since. 

Not in the same way that Seokjin is your friend, of course. Seokjin is your best friend, has been since you were both kids. But Jeongguk just… He gets the industry, in a way that Seokjin never will.

Which brings you to last month.

Last month, when Jeongguk called you nervously in the middle of his tour schedule. Asked you to be his fake girlfriend in guilty, hushed whispers.

You didn’t need to know why. You were always going to say yes. 

But Jeongguk explained anyway. He explained that he has a girlfriend, a real girlfriend, who isn’t from your world. That he hasn’t been able to see her nearly as much as he’d like to because he’s terrified of the backlash she could receive from being connected to him romantically.

You read between the lines—you have nothing to lose, at this point. There isn’t a day that goes by where someone online doesn’t have something to say about you, reputable or not.

He explained that in order to maintain the lie, no one in the industry could know the truth, not even Jeongguk’s bandmates. According to him, they wouldn’t understand why he felt the need to go to such lengths. You didn’t completely agree then, but having met Yoongi now, you get it.

His girlfriend knows about you, he’d told you. She knows who you are, knows about that night last year, and that she still agreed to let him ask you this. She doesn’t see you as a threat.

It stung, a little. Of course it did. You and Jeongguk may be friends, but you’ve always felt a hint of something else there. Maybe it was the kindness he’d shown you when you met. Maybe it’s just him. But you never said anything, convinced it was one-sided.

Clearly you were right.

Still, you want to do this for him. You care about him, and just because you can’t maintain a stable relationship doesn’t mean Jeongguk doesn’t deserve a chance at one.

You think, if Yoongi knew, he’d feel the same.

★ ★ ★

Five years down the drain, Yoongi thinks. Ashes his cigarette. Oh well.

Honestly, it’s not even really about you, although Yoongi would love to pretend otherwise. If he pins it all on you, it makes his mission to get rid of you all the more noble. The label breathing down his neck. The impending deadline of an album he doesn’t know if he can write. Dongsaengs that don’t know how to stay out of trouble. If it’s all your fault, it can’t be his.

This—the smoking—was bound to happen, with or without you. You just helped the process along.

He’s perched on his windowsill, puffing his way through cigarette number two, when his phone buzzes next to him.

Namjoon doesn’t call him nearly ever. Yoongi has a way that he likes things done, and Namjoon is probably his only friend that actually respects it. Emails for work. In-person or texts for personal shit. Video calls never. Phone calls only if Yoongi needs to hear it now and there’s no other way.

Yoongi picks up.

“Joon-ah?” Cautious. He likes phone calls the least because phone calls mean trouble, like someone is in the hospital. He’s gotten that call before, more than once.

“Hyung,” Namjoon says. “Do you have a minute?”

Namjoon wouldn’t be asking that if someone was in the hospital, so Yoongi allows himself to unclench. Just a little. “Yeah, I have a minute.”

He hears rustling on the line, like Namjoon is fidgeting. But Namjoon is always fidgeting, so that could mean nothing.

“I figured, given the events of tonight, that it would be a good call to warn you ahead of time. I would’ve come by your apartment, but I’ve got meetings all morning tomorrow and it’s late. I didn’t want to wait until next time I see you though, so…” Namjoon starts, trailing off. 

Yoongi works his jaw. “Spit it out, Joon-ah,” he says, because Namjoon is shit at delivering bad news. He’s always beating around the bush, trying to soften the blow. It’s great for the kids, but it makes Yoongi feel like he’s about to have to bury his first-born or some shit. Yoongi likes clear, direct.

Namjoon knows this, so he always gets it right on the second try.

“YN is going to the Jeju house with you guys,” Namjoon says. Clear and direct, but the absolute last thing Yoongi wants to hear right now. 

“You’re fucking with me.”

“I’m not.”

“She has literally no fucking reason to be there, Joon-ah,” Yoongi grits out. The cigarette secured between his index and middle knuckles has burned down to nothing, singes his fingers. He hisses and flicks it out the window. “Is she going to help us write an album? Is that it?”

“Hyung—“

“No, she isn’t. She’s going to distract my lead singer the whole time and make the whole point of the trip fucking impossible,” he interrupts, because once he gets started he can’t stop. “Who signed off on this? Doesn’t she have a job? Isn’t there a goddamn camera that needs to be smoldered at?”

“Yoongi-hyung,” Namjoon says. He’s using his manager voice, and Yoongi shuts up instantly. 

Namjoon uses this voice on the kids all the time. Realistically, it’s not a big deal. It’s his job. But he’s never had to use it on Yoongi before.

He deserves it, though. Yoongi knows that. He knows that he’s been insufferable ever since you showed up, and he doesn’t like it either. He’d wanted to talk to Jeongguk, to have a heart-to-heart with him about it, but that’s proven impossible given that you’re always around. And Namjoon is their voice of reason.

Yoongi tries again.

“I don’t like her,” he explains, keeping his voice level. “I don’t think she has Jeongguk’s best interests at heart. I’m just trying to look out for him.”

The line stays quiet for a long moment, like Namjoon is taking special care in choosing his next words. It would make Yoongi nervous, but that’s just what Namjoon does.

“Hyung, you need to leave it alone,” he finally says.

What the fuck.

Yoongi could have foreseen plenty of responses from Namjoon. He’s been on the receiving end of Namjoon’s sage advice more than he’s proud of. Yoongi worries a lot, and Namjoon is particularly good at quieting those worries, particularly when they pertain to the kids. And they usually do. But he sure as shit wasn’t expecting to be blown off like that.

“Joon-ah, Jeongguk is gonna—“

“Jeongguk is a grown man. He’s fully entitled to make his own decisions, and you need to respect that if you don’t want to lose him.”

Lose him? Is Yoongi going insane? Is he fucking missing some integral piece of this puzzle that everyone else seems to have?

The notion of losing Jeongguk is completely absurd. How could he lose Jeongguk over something like this? Jeongguk, the college freshman with the huge eyes who followed Yoongi around like a puppy. Jeongguk who sang so softly when Yoongi asked, who beamed with pride when Yoongi told him he had something special. Jeongguk who dropped out alongside Yoongi, took a risk because he trusted his hyung to take care of him.

It was Yoongi and Jeongguk before it was anyone else, and Yoongi has never let Jeongguk down once, won’t allow himself to. This is the thing that’s going to change that? 

“What are you even talking about?”

“Just… leave this one alone, Yoongi,” Namjoon sighs. “She’s coming whether you like it or not, and you need to at least pretend to play nice.”

Yoongi doesn’t appreciate being treated like a child who’s the cause of his parent’s headache, not by Kim Namjoon. The label dickheads are one thing, but the one person Yoongi has entrusted with everything for the past five years? Before that, even? Fuck that. Namjoon doesn’t talk to him this way, and that’s not about to change because of you.

“Namjoon-ah, if you’re going to blow me off, at least put my cock in your mouth and do it right,” Yoongi spits, hanging up before he can think better of his words.

Fuck.

Yoongi hasn’t bitten Namjoon’s head off like that in a long time. It doesn’t feel good to be back in old patterns like this. Yoongi knows why he doesn’t trust you, but he doesn’t know what it is about you that makes it so—urgent. Like he’s a wild animal primed to bite. To hurt. Yoongi isn’t that guy. 

If what Namjoon said is true, if Jeongguk really is at risk of slipping through Yoongi’s fingers, he has to get his fucking act together. He has to try harder to handle this like an adult.

So, you’re coming to Jeju. Fine. Yoongi can be civil.

Even if the only way for him to be civil is not to speak to you at all.

✧ shoot me a reply or an ask if you enjoyed this chapter! feedback is always appreciated <3 join my taglist if you want to be tagged in future fics!

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PREVIOUS CHAPTER ✧ MASTERLIST ✧ NEXT CHAPTER

[cherrybomb107]

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: forgiveness, or the way it’s often presented, is harmful. That’s one more gripe I have with season two. The way it frames “forgiveness”(the idea that you are obligated to forgive someone lest you be “just as bad as they are” is problematic.)

Because for one, having Jinx apologize for killing Caitlyn’s mom and vow to stop the “cycle of violence” doesn’t make any sense. One, that’s just not something Jinx would ever say. Two, the idea that Jinx killing some Councilors is anywhere near the same thing as Caitlyn becoming a dictator is laughable at best, and insulting to my intelligence at worst. Three, Caitlyn never apologizes or faces any meaningful consequences for her actions! Losing an eye was nothing! She should’ve lost a hand at least and we should’ve seen her reflect on her actions and pledge to do better for Zaun!!! Not just fuck off and ride off into the sunset after everything she did! And lastly, the “cycle of violence” literally isn’t a cycle, it’s just one city oppressing the other for centuries and the other city deciding to fight back! This “cycle” doesn’t begin and end with Jinx and her attack on the Council, so framing it like Jinx is the one who has to take sole responsibility for fixing everything is nonsense.

“But Arcane was never about heroes and villains, everything is morally gray!” You sound dumb. This is obviously a story with overt themes of oppression and revolution. I’m not here to critique morality, I’m here to critique its framing. Why are certain characters “justified” in their heinous actions but others don’t get that luxury? That’s what I’m talking about. Moving on, the problem with “forgiveness” implies that it’s necessary, and the way people conflate forgiveness with letting someone have access to you after everything they did is the problem. You don’t have to forgive someone if you don’t want to. That doesn’t make you “bitter” nor does it mean you’re “holding a grudge”. There is a difference between forgiving someone and just removing yourself from the situation and becoming detached, imo. That’s what should’ve been done with Caitlyn and Jinx. No one in Zaun should’ve been shown dying for their oppressors because “teamwork” nor should Sevika have been shoved on the Council to push this idea of “unity”. Why would Sevika, a Zaunite who has never had and never will have any love for Piltover, be forced to cozy up with the Council? Why is the onus on her, as an oppressed person, to make nice with her oppressors? Why does the institution of Piltover, and people like Caitlyn who uphold that institution and wreak havoc on the underclass of Zaun, never have to answer for their crimes?

Answer: Because they(the writers) want to convince us that Jinx and Caitlyn, and by extension, Piltover and Zaun are “just as bad” as each other, and that both sides need to work together to heal. Only problem with that is, the Piltover/Zaun conflict was not presented that way in season one. I’m sure the writers want us to think it’s one city vs another, when that’s not the case at all. In reality, it’s one city OVER the other, and now they’re trying to convince us “both sides are bad”. While it’s true that there ARE problems on both sides, the problems in Zaun literally wouldn’t be problems if Piltover wasn’t an oppressive institution. Why were the chem barons able to amass power? Because the systems Piltover set up left Zaun behind and allowed pier hungry people like Finn, Margo, Chross, and Smeech seize their opportunities for control. Why is there so much crime in Zaun? Again, because of Piltover. The class disparity that Piltover set up means the economic divide between the two cities is a chasm that grows wider and wider every day. People are forced to steal to eat. They join gangs out of necessity, not because they have to. Why did Jinx kill all those enforcers?

That shouldn’t be the question. The real question is: Why does “Jinx”(as in, the persona Powder adopted to feel strong) even exist? Answer, once again, because of Piltover! Jinx is an oppressed person with severe mental health and self esteem issues that have been exacerbated as a result of the crooked system of Piltover. She saw her parents get killed by enforcers(militarized police force that carries out the will of the powers that be and is responsible for harassing, brutalizing, and over policing Zaun) right in front of her before she was even in the double digits. She was then adopted by Vander, but she had to struggle her whole life. Zaun doesn’t even have air to BREATHE unless Piltover decides they deserve it. And thanks to Caitlyn, we get to see how even THAT gets weaponized when Zaun steps out of line. So if they don’t have access to clean air, it’s safe to say that they also don’t have access to the same quality food, water, shelter, clothing, economic, educational, or medical services that Piltovans do, just by virtue of living in Zaun. So you take a severely mentally ill little girl, systematically oppress her, and then clutch your pearls when she becomes violent and lashes out? Label her a “psycho” and a “monster” for killing cops, gang members, and politicians while Caitlyn gets a happily ever after after everything she did? I thought “both sides” were “just as bad”. So why is Jinx the only one who meaningfully suffers? Why does Zaun as a whole always have to pay the price?

Lack of commitment. “Terrorist” is a loaded word that’s been weaponized against marginalized people for ages now. It’s another one to add to the list: angry, crazy, mad, belligerent, monster, savage, animal, etc. All these dehumanizing words are leveled at folks who get tired of taking shit lying down. I’ve never thought that Jinx was a “monster” for killing cops, Councilors, or politicians. Never will. But the show clearly WANTS me to, as well as simultaneously wanting to see Caitlyn’s actions a certain way. I’ve already made a post about why comparing or trying to equalize Caitlyn’s actions and Jinx’s actions is disingenuous and intellectually dishonest imo. Think of it like a bully vs bullied type of thing. There’s this kid and his asshole friends who gets to bully you for weeks, months, or even years and face no repercussions. Then, one day you get fed up, and start fighting back. Whether that be with words, feet, fists, or what have you. If you go down, you go down swinging. When the dust settles, BOTH of y’all are getting disciplined(detention, suspended, expelled, not allowed to go on trips, etc) for “fighting”. And there’s a very good chance one of you will be punished much more harshly than the other. Even though you started fighting back. BACK being the operative word. Every single time this kid pushed, hit, kicked, punched, started rumors about, and isolated you, nothing was done. The one time you start fighting BACK, both of y’all get in trouble because the school has a “zero tolerance policy”.

But you know that’s not true. It can’t be. You’ve been telling the teachers, guidance counselors, and vice principal about what’s been going on. But nothing was done about it. Or if it was, you were the one who was told to move seats. Or switch to a different classroom. Or just ignore them. Or “maybe they’re lashing out cause they have problems going on at home.” It was nothing but excuses when you were getting pushed around. Now when you fight back it’s a problem. Now take that metaphor and apply it to Caitlyn and Jinx. Caitlyn is like that fat rich asshole with parents on the PTA who make hefty donations to the school. Jinx is like the scrawny little nobody who has no one to stick up for them. Piltover is the school system. Caitlyn’s privilege isolated her from any meaningful consequences, while Jinx’s lack of privilege guaranteed she’d face hefty consequences, much more than Caitlyn ever would.

Jinx has lost: her birth parents as a result of state sanctioned violence, her adoptive brothers, her sister, her best friend, her adoptive father, Silco, her sister again, her adoptive brother again, her new friend, her sense of self, her life(possibly) and she has to deal with being an oppressed person who struggles with mental health issues on top of all that. Caitlyn has lost: her mother, and her eye. That’s it. She’s never forced to give anything up. She never had to reckon with the reality of what it means to be not just a Piltie, but a Kiramman, and a dictator on top of that. We never see her be genuinely remorseful about her horrible actions in Zaun. Nor does she try to apologize to the people in Zaun or meaningfully make amends. No, Caitlyn gets to live in that big shiny house of hers with her father and girlfriend and the months she spent co-signing martial law will never be addressed. To bring it back to the bully vs bullied comparison, this means that Jinx would have been expelled for fighting back, while Caitlyn gets ISS(in school suspension). “Both sides are bad” yeah well you clearly believe one side is worse! And it’s not the correct one!

Piltover is an oppressive, classist, ableist, and brutal institution. Caitlyn was the head of this institution for months after she experienced a fraction of what Zaunites have experienced for centuries. At the end of the day, Caitlyn’s actions were brushed aside and she got her happy ending, though it wasn’t deserved whatsoever. Meanwhile Jinx, Sevika, Ekko, Isha, countless other Zaunites, and Zaun as a whole did nothing but suffer their whole lives and now they have nothing to show for it. “Both sides are bad” but the bad that the institution is responsible for is never called out, while the bad that the oppressed people did is blown out of proportion and they are severely punished for it.

And yes, I know I’m talking about a mainstream television show with white/non black people in the writers room. I knew I was never gonna get the pro revolution story I wanted to see, and I’ve made peace with that. But, if they wanted to have a “both sides” narrative so bad, then they should’ve stuck with it. BOTH SIDES should have equally suffered and had to reckon with their wrongdoings. The responsibility for doing so shouldn’t have solely been on the shoulders of the minority group. THAT’S the crux of the issue. I was always gonna think “forgiveness” was the coward’s way out. But they never show Piltover apologizing. Only Zaun does, and that’s not right.

[thewistlingbadger]

I hate the way the show frames Jinx. Having this "Powder vs Jinx" thing is so weird and unrealistic and the fact that they kept reiterating the idea that Jinx and Powder were sperate people? It is the strangest thing I've every seen, because THEY ARE NOT SEPERATE PEOPLE! THEY ARE THE EXACT SAME PERSON, TWO OPPOSITES THAT ARE INEXTRICIABLY BOUND.

"Powder is dead, powder killed Silco," "Jinx is dead, Jinx was Silco's daughter, Powder was Vander's," THIS DOESN'T EXIST. "Powder" grew up to be "Jinx". You can't get rid of the "Jinx" in "Powder" and you can't get rid of the "Powder" in "Jinx." They are the same person. Jinx grew up but she still had the softness that she had as a child and also the brutality she had as a child. In life, we will change all the time. Change is an element of nature, there is no such thing as staying the same forever. You are always going to change, and in some ways you are always going to stay the same. That's just how life is. You can't only love one version of a person, because one day that version won't be there! They won't exist anymore because they changed, and in a way they were always like that. This is the exact issue that Ekko and Vi have with Jinx. They are obsessed with one particular version of Jinx, and version that no longer exists. And instead of realizing that yes, she has changed, and she is still the same person- they come to the conclusion that the person they love is gone. That isn't true. The person they love is alive, but they have changed and they're never going to be the exact same again.

And THIS is what Silco was talking about on the river. When he said "you have to let Powder die so the fear of pain can no longer control you," he DIDN'T MEAN "Powder" is bad. Him saying "Jinx is perfect" does NOT mean he hates "Powder" or that he only loves "Jinx". He meant that who she is in the moment is perfect. She doesn't need to make a "choice," she is both. Silco very obviously doesn't hate the soft, vulnerable parts of Jinx that are classified as elements of "Powder." We see Silco love Jinx in her entirety. He loves the girl who scribbles with crayons on her destructive bombs. He loves the girl who feels like she's weak despite how rough her exterior has become. "You're strong now, just like you were always meant to be." She isn't an indestructible and cold weapon; She's a person who's harshness of her reality has given her the power to take charge of her own life. If Silco hated "Powder" then he wouldn't let Jinx invade his personal space and he wouldn't give her so much grace. For fucks sake, his dying words were him LITERALLY telling her she was perfect in every single possible way. His final breath was spent enforcing the fact that she didn't need to change at all, she never had to split herself into pieces trying to fit for anyone.

Jinx can't "choose" between "Powder" and "Jinx" because they're both her. I don't know why the show chooses to frame her like she has two different personalities, but she doesn't. She is a person that grew up and was influenced by the events she witnessed throughout her lifetime, just like any other person.

[cantareincminor]

Fandom Wrapped (Reader Edition) 2024!

Thanks to the wonderful @kattyelf for creating this template! Links and detailed reviews under the cut.

Disclaimer: I probably read hundreds of SxF fics in the past year, and it was not easy to choose which ones to put in the list above (or below)! This fandom is full of wonderful, friendly creators and I am so glad to be part of it. I also had to narrow it down to only the ones I read and reread in 2024, not 2022 or 2023. Finally...I also happened to read many good fics only once. Sometimes a fic is just too painful or sad to reread, especially if it's not finished.

Favorite fic and author: After peace by @unhappy-sometimes!

I could gush about unso for a whole post and not be done, but I will try to contain myself. Her fic After peace originated from an AU comic she drew where Twilight was forced to retire early due a major injury, and drifted aimlessly until WISE asked him to take care of an orphan they had rescued from Project Apple. There are several things that amazed me about this fic and cemented it in first place for 2024:

The premise. It was original and so full of potential.

How personal Twilight's journey felt to me. I didn't have a life-threatening injury, but I did put my career on hiatus in the past year and have often struggled with questions of -- what am I worth when I'm not "doing" anything? I was so used to going 150% in the rat race and coming out on top at great personal cost to health and family; even if all that was bad, how else can I get that sense of accomplishment? How can I stop wanting that sense of accomplishment?

Her style, which is both vivid AND concise. The fic was around 22K words if I remember correctly, with a well-constructed plot, character arcs, plenty of emotional beats, and a satisfying resolution. I often wonder if my writing is too verbose and when I see something like After peace, it challenges me to do better.

THIS WAS UNSO'S FIRST FIC EVER. THE HELL. It's like a freshman album that gets put up for a Grammy.

Fic(s) I reread (plus runners-up):

That Time Yor Seriously Thought About Leaving by peonydee: This is a WIP with one more chapter before completion, I believe. Peonydee's style is unique in how it's hard-hitting and disarming at the same time. Yor and Twilight find themselves in impossible situations, their relationship tested to the limit (and one of them in a close brush with death), yet there's still an undercurrent of wry humor, almost fatalistic due to the fact both of them have been steeped in death and dirty work for decades, yet still hopeful and reaching for each other. I also cackle every time she makes Twilight go off on a mansplaining tangent without ever using the term outright. A masterpiece of show not tell.

Is It Really All Right? by zyzy1083: This one is tender. A jealous!Loid fic with a fascinating portrayal of Loid from Yor's perspective. The imagery of a dark sea choking down any true thought or emotion from breaking for air will stay with me for a long time. There's also the fact she basically made up lyrics for an indie song as part of the plot and I had to ask whether it was a real song. Finally, there's the fact she was bold enough to portray Loid as less than a perfect, kind, smiley husband toward Yor, but in a believable way. He snaps at Yor at times. He loses his patience. It feels like a real relationship, in the awkward tension when one partner wants to talk and the other absolutely does not want to talk. I admire that courage and wish more authors would take that risk (calling myself out I guess!).

Green-eyed Monster by bigbruja: another jealous!Loid fic that's lighthearted and fun. This is a comfort reread. I enjoy seeing Loid recognize the threat of a supposed "old friend" of Yor's, questioning his own feelings and how far he needs to go to fend this guy off. The guy is a Garden assassin, unbeknownst to him. I also love Yor's own inner struggle of just wanting everyone to get along, but showing steel when she needs to.

dalliance by rosetintednerdglasses: this is a WIP, but it is HILARIOUS and I hope everyone will go encourage this author to pick this fic back up when they have a chance. TLDR, Twilight (in disguise) is sent on a joint mission with Thorn Princess and flips out internally when he sees it's Yor. Handler then orders him to ensure Thorn Princess continues to cooperate. So as Twilight, he has to sort-of honey trap Thorn Princess, while as Loid he has to keep Yor happy. Poor Yor believes she's torn between two different men and close to cheating on Loid! Situational hilarity all over the place, and fun world-building, like this other WISE agent randomly named "Steel Bunny" (LOL).

Not According to Plan by @kyrathel: love you girl! This is a gift fic for me, but that's not the reason I reread it (even though it's a WIP as well!). It's SO FUNNY. Twilight gets it in his overly anxious head that he MUST defend his wife from the bullies at City Hall, so what does he do? HE INFILTRATES CITY HALL AS A NEW FEMALE HIRE. The world absolutely needs more petty!Twilight! The latest chapter features laxative brownies. Enough said.

Let's start living dangerously by @beannoss: I specifically reread the later parts when dumb Twilight gets over his dumbness and finally talks to Yor! And they kiss again! I love the way huhwaku (beannoss) portrays overthinking Twilight AND overthinking Yor. And also, the simplicity of Yor at the same time. The voice she uses for both of them is refreshing, it really puts you in the mindset of the character. Yor's giggles ("teehee!") as she teases Twilight about his little perfectionist habits are a cute touch to a gentle, heartwarming fic about these two highly competent professionals just starting to take baby steps in how to be competent at a relationship.

Fic that made me emotional:

100% Perfect by @sometimesiship. Where do I begin? How about with the gut aversion I initially had to the premise of a futuristic AI dating bot AU, due to all the tragic, dark AI movies I have watched? But as it neared completion, someone convinced me to give it a try and I AM SO GLAD I DID. You can see my gushing comments in almost every chapter. The development of the relationship between human Yor and AI Loid is so natural, funny at times, poignant always, and beautifully written, even though from an objective standpoint not much exciting stuff happens (I mean canon-typical excitement like murders and spy missions). Sometimesiship has a way of describing emotion that is so raw -- she can portray the same emotion a dozen different ways with analogies and setups and dialogue and whatever -- and it still doesn't feel old. And the emotion that dominated the second half of the story was grief. Basically the grief of loving someone you know you're going to lose. Like being the spouse of a terminal cancer patient. I didn't cry while reading, but it was a closer call than I have had in a VERY long time. So much beauty and humanity in this story. And spoiler (?), it's a happy ending. So I hope you all go check it out!

That's a wrap! If you read this far, stay tuned for a Writer version of Fandom Wrapped 2024!

[lightlycareless]

I was reading your scorned ex husband stories and they made me so sad(especially the second one) then I started thinking about the twin au and like what if the twins parent trap them in a different divorced au? Lol. Naoya is still a dick obviously for splitting up twins(seriously who would do that??) but maybe not completely irredeemable for Y/N to forgive him 🥺 Hehe this is just something silly I thought up and wanted to share

Hellooooooo

Heheh this got me watching the movie again, right in the nostalgia. It had been so long since I last saw it that I actually didn't remember most of it, but I do think however: how the hell did they think that was a good idea 🤣 gee, talk about parent of the year.

Anyways, some liberties were taken to make the story work, though the premise is essentially the same.

Also, these are the works anon is referring to :) Ex-husband 1 & Ex-husband 2. Now onto the warnings:

Warnings: none major. Naoya is an a_hole, as always. Naomi and Naori are adorable, but poor kids seriously :'(.

Happy reading!!

If Naoya does this, you effectively hate him from that point forward.

It is non-negotiable, you never want to see him ever again, especially after the cruel words he used to justify the separation of his children:

���I only ever cared about Naori anyways.”

You made it your life-long purpose to keep Naomi from someone as despicable as her father—though it hurt you to do so, for it also meant you’d be away from your beloved son; just 2 years into his life… you barely got to make any memories with him before he was stripped away from your arms.

But such was the divorce agreement: the two would keep one child, and out of their lives.

Naoya remains in Kyoto with his son at the Zen’in estate, while you move back to Tokyo, close to your family but distant enough to have your own apartment. Just the two of you, the little home you always wanted.

In an unexpected turn of events, Naomi and Naori would go on completely unaware of each other until enrolling in the same elementary school.

It was almost undetectable at the beginning since Naomi now had your last name—but once teachers and students alike began to realize their physical similarities, it became impossible to ignore.

“No… we don’t look alike.” Naori would quietly complain. Out of the two, he was the least enthusiastic about this advancement, doing his best to avoid the limelight due to his reserved nature.

However, that wouldn’t mean anything to Naomi: ever the bubble one, she was nothing but to have a new best friend that looked just like her!

“We’re almost like twins!” she gasped—same hair color, eyes, height… how could they not? “I’ve always wanted a baby brother too.”

“Well, I don’t! And I could be older too, you know? Besides, why would I want a sister that’s weak and ugly…?”

Intended to hurt her, Naomi only laughed at his words, for it would take much more than that to bring her down—one could even say that the two were reflections of their respective parents in that matter: the only contrast between the two, as a matter of fact.

“That’s not true!” she happily refuted, taking hold of his hand and heading to the playground. “Now, come on! I want to go on the swings, and I need someone to push me!”

Though Naori was greatly unwilling at first, he’d soon warm up to her, mainly because she was part of the few, if not the only, kid that didn’t bother him because of his shyness; always rushing to the rescue whenever bullies began to swarm him, as well as reassure him there was nothing wrong with being the way he was.

And if that wasn’t enough, the food Naomi began to share with him (courtesy of you, after much insistence from her part) effectively validated their friendship.

“When will you ever bring him over?” you tease, it’s the happiest you’d ever seen your daughter! And for that, you couldn’t help but feel glad and obligated to repay the favor.

“I don’t know, mama. Nori-kun tells me his papa can be quite strict.”

You chuckle.

“Well, I’m sure I can convince him next time the parents have a meeting at school.”

“His papa doesn’t go to school.” Naomi frowns, her words making you sad for the poor child. “Says he’s too busy.”

“Oh, that’s awful. Well, what about the mama?”

“He doesn’t have one.”

Your heart longs to comfort him.

If they only knew…

And as time went on and their friendship flourished even more, so did their interests for one another; beyond those of their favorite colors and toys, and more into… personal grounds.

Matters that had always quietly hurt Naori one way or the other since he could remember; more so since you had been nothing but sweet and kind to a figuratively unknown kid, which highlighted the fact he never had that one thing he always wished for.

What he might never have, since his father has long given up on it, considering the way he coldly changes the subject, or completely ignores it. Naori simply… doesn’t talk about it.

Until now.

“Why don’t you have a dad?” He dares to ask; it’s no secret that the one to pick him up at school is one of his father’s many subordinates, always changing, not enough to be interesting to the other parents outside of how rich (or a jerk) he must be to have employees pick up his child.

Compared to you, always spoken of fondly for the following reasons:

If it was Valentine’s Day, you’d send Naomi with a big box of candies so she could share with all the class.

Halloween was the same, even hosting small gatherings if the children wished to celebrate in a safe environment.

If it was a classmate’s birthday, you always made sure to send them a personal gift or attend their birthday party. Your gifts might’ve put some parents to shame from time to time, but it didn’t matter, you kind of grew to be some kind of celebrity thus a few always tried to be on your good side—or Naomi’s, so to speak.

Naomi’s birthday… well, some fought to be on the guest list.

In other words,you were an amazing for both kids and parents alike, enough to inspire Naori to daydream about what it would be to have a loving mother like you—to always be at the door once it was time to leave, patiently waiting for the moment your daughter would come into view and subsequently pick her up into a tight, warm hug, followed by a kiss and wide smile as you urged Naomi to tell you all about her day.

Or more importantly, wonder if you were open to adopting him.

“Oh… that—I… don’t know!” Naomi responds truthfully. “Mama never talks about him.”

“Have you asked her?”

“Once or twice, but all she says is that I should focus on my studies!

…

But I can see how sad she gets whenever I mention him.” She continues. “Mama isn’t very good at hiding “adult talk” and neither is my auntie, so I always get to hear how lonely she is when they talk about him! … and how she should try dating other people, or whatever that means, so she wouldn’t feel like that anymore.”

“I think is when you marry someone.” Naori tries to explain, Naomi scowls out of disgust.

She doesn’t like the idea of sharing her mama with someone else, grows somewhat jealous too.

Well, maybe if it was Uncle Nanami, he’s always been nice to her and her mama. Not Geto because she plans on marrying him herself.

And she supposes her papa too… but how could someone you love make you sad?

“I don’t want her marrying anyone.” Naomi shakes her head. “She’s happy with me!”

“But don’t you wonder about your dad?” he asks. “What did he look like? How did he meet your mom?”

Or how they fell in love?

Naturally. Because just as Naori, and even after you tried your hardest to distract her from it… she too longed to have a father. Someone to play with her after finishing all her homework, put her over his shoulders and let her see the world from his height, or protect her from the monsters that lived inside the closet…

There must be an answer to both of their mysteries—people don’t simply disappear.

And such, is how they assigned themselves a new mission; a task of the upmost importance, requiring all their attention and care if they wish to uncover why they only have one parent—and who was such peculiar character.

Anything that could hint such solution is a chance they’d take, however…

To Naomi, this endeavor proved quite fruitless, for any indication of your past relationship was effectively ripped from the evidence. Quite literally: thousands and thousands of pictures cut in half, neatly removing the person that accompanied her mother—whom she assumed to be her father. And that’s without mentioning your consistent disapproval of the matter. Naomi was right where she began.

This lack of advancement both frustrated her and placed more pressure onto Naori’s efforts, which shockingly, turned to be quite more than what they bargained for. Getting results neither could’ve imagined, not even in their wildest dreams…

“Naomi-chan… I’m not sure if you’re ready to see this.” Naori would caution as he placed down a large wooden box before her, filled with his findings.

“Why? Why not, Naori-kun?” she frets, surely it couldn’t be anything too outrageous.

…Could it?

Yes, it could. And it was.

Because beyond the astonishing realization that all the pictures Naori brought were in virtually perfect shape…

The fact they both recognize the people in the photo, Naomi’s mother, wearing that same bright eyed, wide smile look on her face whenever particularly excited. Happy—alongside Naori’s father, with his usual dyed hair, ear piercings, and striking eyes…

Holding two newborn babies—named Naomi and Naori such as the inscription in the back stated, alongside their birth time and date (Naomi is older, at last is known) …

Is what truly shocked them.

…

…

…

You. Naoya.

Naomi and Naori.

Mama and papa.

A family, for all intents and purposes.

What everyone around them proclaimed: siblings.

Naomi and Naori were siblings. Twins.

“Does that mean we—”

Naori nods. If it hadn’t been obvious enough by now.

Nonetheless, as thrilling as this discovery was, for it essentially made their respective dreams come true… another question arose. One that undoubtedly could not proceed unanswered.

“Why aren’t our parents together?”

Or most importantly:

“How can we get them back together?”

“But what if they don’t want to?” Naori frets.

“I told you already! Mama looks very happy wit him, and auntie says she’s very lonely too… besides, if they get back together that means we’ll finally be a happy family! And isn’t that what you wanted?”

Naori presses his lips together, nodding.

“I want a happy family too. I’ve always wanted a papa to play with!” Naomi continues.

“And a mom to hug…” Naori adds. “What do we do?”

First…

Get them together, face to face. In other words, talk. It’s how adults always preached problems got solved.

Since you had given Naomi the impression you’re not interested in anything pertaining to Naori’s dad, she had to get creative. Force you into a position where you wouldn’t be able to ignore her as you’ve done before—and one where Naoya would inevitably have to go to school too.

It had to be a convincing excuse, and since the two were children in need of dire solutions, their innocent minds led them to the most extreme resolution yet.

“I need you to punch me.” Naomi says, determined.

“Why?!” he gasps.

“Because I need to get hurt for mama to come, and if you’re the one in trouble they’ll have to call your papa, and then, the two will be here, just as we planned!”

“Can’t we do something less dangerous…?” Naori doesn’t like the idea of getting in trouble with his strict dad, as if he weren’t insufferable enough…

“No, Naori. It must be this!”

“But I don’t want to punch you…”

“Come on, we have to do it to have a family!!” she insists. “Or do you not want mama to make you food every day? To hug you too??”

He swallows.

“I do.”

“Then do it!”

And… he does. After taking a deep breath, clenching his fist and hitting Naomi in what she could only describe the weakest punch she could’ve ever anticipated. Surely, not enough to make this case convincing.

“Naori! You have to hit harder than that!”

“I—I tried!” he cries.

“No, you didn’t!” she cries back. “You didn’t even try!”

“Ye—yes I did!” Naori frowns. “It’s not my fault I’m not as strong as you!”

“Yeah, right! You’re a boy, you’re supposed to hit harder!” Naomi adds, smirking soon after an idea crosses her mind. “… Then I guess you don’t really want a mama.”

“I do want a mom…”

“No, it’s fine. I should’ve known not to trust you with something so important anyways—” she says, words that brush each and every one of Naori’s insecurities. “You’re just as weak as everyone else says…”

With a frown on his face, and a sour tightness in his chest, little Naori quickly clenched his fist and prepared himself to prove her wrong once and for all. Show that he wanted this just as much as she did—if not more.

Naomi was trying her best to get a rise out of Naori, everything necessary to motivate a genuine hit out of him and get their plan in motion—she never meant any of those words, intended to apologize after all was said and done, though she doubted it would matter once they got what they sought after.

But it was almost comical how it happened, how he miscalculated his steps, how far his hand had to travel to hit Naomi, and how he ended up doing far more than necessary: but convincingly so, in the end. Tripping over her and sending the two tumbling down, loudly hitting the ground in such a motion that had them scraping their skin, and of course, tears following suit.

“Maaaaaaa, I want my mamaaaaa.” Naomi intuitively cried, tightly holding onto the teacher as the two were sent to the infirmary.

Naori didn’t cry much for his father, he rarely did considering his prominent absence, but just one look at his teary face and trembling lip, and it was obvious whom he sought for comfort—the same one the school somehow convinced to come along and deal with this unfortunate incident.

As well as the supposed altercation that made way for all this to happen in the first place.

“No, what do you mean a fight??” You’re the first to arrive, demanding a believable explanation from the teacher. “That’s not—that doesn’t sound like my daughter!”

“I know, I thought the same… but that’s what the kids are saying.” She explains. “That Naomi-chan was inciting Naori-kun to punch her, and that she was even saying awful things to get him to do that. I don’t know what they were doing, if they were playing a game or… I don’t know; all of it is so weird—I’m sorry.”

You sigh.

“It’s fine. There’s no need to stress when it’s already happened.” You explain. “Is the parent of the child here already?”

“Should be soon, but I don’t know if he’s actually coming, Naori’s dad isn’t quite… present.”

You frown at the name.

“Naori? Wasn’t he Naomi’s best friend?”

She nods.

“It just makes everything even more unbelievable… really, what’s gotten to them?”

You hope to figure such when speaking to the poor child your daughter allegedly antagonized, after apologizing for such behavior of course. Which you’d have to deal with after returning home—Naomi… seriously, what could’ve possibly gone through her mind to incite such act? Was she being bullied? Did Naori suddenly decide he no longer wanted to be friends with her?

And why did his name appear to be so… familiar?

You’d figure it out soon enough when entering the infirmary, quickly scanning across the room for your daughter—only to freeze upon locking into Naoya’s; a much smaller, softer version of them, that is.

“Mamaaaaa!!” Naomi quickly cries when seeing you walk past the door, rushing to your side and hugging you tightly, the adrenaline of the whole succession still vivid in her mind. “Mama, it—it hurts a lot!”

Comforting her ought to be your utmost priority, but at the sight of your estranged child, the baby you were forcibly stripped away from… you couldn’t think of anything else but pinching yourself to see if this was a dream—if he was truly there, before you: flesh and bone. After so many years of distance…!

And naturally, hug him. Keep him so, so close to you and never let go; to make up for all the time you’ve spent apart and the things you never got to do because of his undeserving, cruel father…

Who stomped past the door soon after, equally freezing when seeing his estranged child, and ex-wife after 5 years of imposed silence. Startled, as if he hadn’t been the deciding factor behind it all.

Or perhaps, the reason why Naori enrolled in this school in the first place.

“Y/N.”

“Naoya.”

Looks like there’s much to catch up to.

Obviously, part 2 is needed. Essentially where Naoya will disclose more of what the hell was going on in his mind when pulling that stunt, as well as some angst. I have to. hahaha

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this little thing I wrote; I do love it when we indulge into domestic au... but not at the expense of the kids 😭😭😭 think of the children!!! lol.

Well, 0nce again, thank you so much for sending in this ask!! Now take care, and hope to see you soon!!

[supremechancellorrex]

Nope, you can't trespass online. When you post something, anyone can respond. And I only engaged with you because I was initially curious why you'd want Katara to punch "Azula/Mai" which does give the impression that you see them as two sides of the same coin. I wondered if you were referring to Mai before getting together with Zuko or after, so I asked. Would you say curiosity killed the cat?

This is really going out on a limb. Mai never actually helped Azula capture Zuko, she's a part of Azula's team as the princess would habe demanded regardless (as we saw with Ty Lee), but it's speculation to say if she had run into Zuko what would have happened. I also want to point out this is pre their relationship, at best when she had a crush on him, and before she does develop as a person (even though you don't like that development). And, even with that, we can guess different things on what would have happened if Mai and Zuko ran into each other in Book 2, who knows? And if you're by chance referring to Ba Sing Se, Zuko returned to the Fire Nation of his own volition at Ba Sing Se. Mai can't be blamed for that either, if that is what you're indirectly referring to also.

You accused me of "miscontruing" you, so pot, kettle. As for the other thing, you say that if she were male, what she says "would absolutely be considered abuse". You say she tries "bullying" Zuko back into a relationship. You keep talking about how she allegedly says "nasty" things and deserved to be punched in throat by Katara and put her on the same level of Azula in the original post:

You are calling Mai an abuser (and also downplaying her good points as a tactic to feather that nest).

And I was willing to agree to disagree, but I changed my mind after another one of your responses. I might change my mind again. Although calling me "nasty" seems rather unnecessary. I just said that "nasty" seems to summarise what Mai is to you, meanwhile you seem to throw it directly at me like a slingshot like a stan would.

You did though. Seems like a Motte and Bailey argument on your end. And I could say the same of you. It honestly feels like you're making stuff up, from what Mai says being "considered abuse" to how Mai "helped capture Zuko" to how Katara "would hate Mai" to saying Suki and Sokka "have never been in a relationship and only met once" when that's not true by the point Suki is captured.

This is rather semantic. I can't say the Dai Li "peeing" line is exactly hitting. Seems in line with Ty Lee also praising Azula in that scene for her speech. As for ordering servants around, that is to cheer Zuko up, who was enjoying it initially, and she visibly deflates when it later doesn't work because he's concerned about the war meeting. And as for your other point, Zuko is in an abusive environment with Azula and Ozai, yes. Mai is too, considering she even says that she does "fear" Azula. This is why she initially, early on, acquieces to Azula quite easily when Azula says that unconvincing "braid" lie, only able to send her a dirty look behind her back. Over time this escalates to yelling "You want me to express myself? Leave me alone!" after Azula mocks her childhood trauma in the Beach. There are a number of indications that Mai herself felt trapped. Her parents shut down her opinions in her formative years for her father's political career, she was dragged to Omashu clearly without wanting to be there, she at best can only disobey Azula behind her back. Azula even says in Azula Alone (if we have to keep talking about the comics) how much her 'friends' should be grateful a princess gave them the time of day, so there is an unequal power dynamic where Azula is controlling, mocking and abusive. Mai and Zuko's situations aren't that different in ways, and they both resent their situations, which is another part of why Mai really doesn't have much hang ups choosing Zuko. They actually have something in common.

You can compare Azula and Mai, talk about "dark humor", but it feels rather pointless when they are so different, not just not on the "same level", fundamentally different.

Fallacious argument with a seeming tinge of condescension. We never see a scene where Mai attempts to kill Zuko, because it doesn't exist. If you reread my post, you would also notice I refer to Mai's role as a villain earlier and so I don't need to "admit" something as if I'm keeping something under wraps. As for your conclusions on how we should treat characters that were villains and never villains, that's your opinion of course but not a hard and fast rule in any way.

The writing is ridiculous. We can't just give Zuko a free card for bad comic writing, yet rip Mai to shreds for bad comic writing. It would be a double-standard, almost opportunist. I think the intentions of the writers of the original show and the writers of the comics don't synchronise, which makes all characters' actions in the comics dubious. "He wasn't a real threat" is ridiculous, but it's the sort of ridiculous I would expect of Gene Yang's reasoning considering. She beats them up and leaves in Rebound. She is on Zuko's side in the argument with her father, telling Ukano he should have been "grateful" to Zuko, being derisive to Ozai loyalists and then beats them all up. I very much doubt they wrote that finale scene with the idea Mai's a Tanke or Hitler Youth and that's what she's thinking, same with the scenes in the show finale. Mai also later supports Zuko against Azula and Ozai loyalists. Ukano complains about how he essentially hadn't managed to indoctrinate her to the "duties of Fire Nation Citizenship early enough" because she is not acting imperialist or fascist. Post-War Mai is definitely not a fascist, or even imperialist at this point, she is not baying to extend her country's border through colonisation or military force. She didn't even seem to really bay before really. She is against the New Ozai Society that wants to do so and thinks they should shut up. She has also spoken out against Sozin and Ozai in the Ashes of the Academy comic, saying "The less we uphold from Ozai and Sozin's reign, the better the Fire Nation will be".

Do I think the writing could be better at points? Sure, the show had flaws, the comics have giant holes. But I really can't find your specific opinion of Mai that impelling. But you can continue to believe what you feel. I feel I'm done with this conversation, so I actually won't respond beyond this point.

"I think Katara would get along with Azula/Mai because female solidarity!"

Cool. I think Katara would punch fascists in the throat.

[lulu-the-bugaboo]

Ok hear me out

For the longest time I have been against Ace coming back in any way because I thought it would ruin how well-written ASL's tragedy is. But ever since Oda answered that seemingly insignificant question about Sabo a little while ago some false hope has taken over me (and part of me really wants it to come true)

Here is the question for those who haven't seen it:

Seems pretty much like no new information, right? But these questions were supposed to be important and Oda didn't really joke around while answering them. That last line? Imo it has little significance to the main question. I think at the very least this could mean that Sabo inherited Ace's memories (I think it would make sense if it's caused by the fruit but the answer is kinda weird so I'm not really sure. Maybe he doesn't want to make it too clear?)

What I just said seems like the most logical and probable case scenario.

BUT

I have been rethinking about the scenes of Sabo talking about his fire/the fruit like it's sentient. It could just be a coping mechanism like we have always thought (and if the memory thing I just mentioned is true thatvwould make extra sense.) Part of me wonders if he really is seeing Ace now that he has the fruit? Like maybe as some sort of ghost? In the omake after Sabo wakes up from his dream where he managed to save his brothers he does so crying and Koala points out that he's been having that same dream and crying about it for everyday these last two years. And theeen after he gets mad at her he calms down and says that Ace is angry at him. Wouldn't it make sense if he still has the dream since he's been having it for so long but now that Ace is (in some way) there he wouldn't like that?

At first I saw this as a sign that the ghost thing logically can't be true since if Sabo is still crying about Ace after dressrosa then surely he isn't seeing him in any shape or form. However me rethinking it led to what I said above.

I don't ever want Ace to fully come back because that would just be straight up bad writing. But hell if I wouldn't love him just being a ghost that only Sabo can see. We can finally get that Sabo/Ace interaction and it wouldn't really undo the stuff with Luffy either. And it would also be really interesting lore wise.

I mainly think I'm just delusional and bored tbh lol