#so perfect and immediately to be trusted and welcome in contrast to the way we saw Loona in the pound some hell hounds even looking skinny

[domm1etae]

Hot Tub Revelations

welcome to domm1etae's kinktober day 5 : nipple play

san x f!reader

4.4k

When you and San sneak off to the hot tub for some steamy fun at the cabin, things heat up way more than expected

nsfw tags under

m/f, top top san, bottom reader, oral sex, dirty talk, teasing, pet names, hot tub, nipple play, public space, make out, handjob, fingering, kissing

Requests OPEN! - let me know through the ask button if you have any requests for this Kinktober

navigation | kinktober masterlist

“Hey, San, feel like joining me in the hot tub?” you called out, breaking the easy silence in the cozy living room of the cabin.

San paused, chopsticks in hand, hovering over a steaming plate of tteokbokki. His eyes flicked toward you, filled with mild curiosity, as if he wasn’t sure he heard you correctly. After a beat, he popped a rice cake into his mouth, chewing slowly as he contemplated your question.

“You’re serious?” he finally asked, his voice tinged with amusement.

“Completely,” you shot back, flashing him a grin as you tugged your hoodie closer around yourself. “We’re supposed to be enjoying ourselves on this trip, right? The hot tub is the best way to relax after being snowed in.”

San gave you a once-over, his lips twitching as he tried to hide a smile. “You do realize it’s, like, negative degrees out there, right?”

You rolled your eyes. “Obviously. That’s why the hot tub is perfect—it’s warm. Trust me, it’ll feel amazing.”

He chuckled, shaking his head as he pushed his plate aside. “You’re really set on this, aren’t you?”

“Yup.” You stretched your arms above your head, your muscles aching slightly from the long day spent hiking earlier with the rest of the guys. “Everyone else is passed out or playing games. Come on, San, when’s the next time we’ll get a cabin like this for two whole weeks? We might as well take advantage of the perks.”

San sighed, but you could tell from the way he was already standing up that he was going to give in. He glanced out the window, where thick snow was still falling, covering the surrounding forest in a heavy, white blanket.

“You really want to drag me out into this frozen wasteland?” he teased, running a hand through his hair. “You must have some ulterior motive.”

You smirked, pulling your hat down over your ears as you headed toward the door. “Maybe I do. Or maybe I just want to soak in a hot tub with a nice view.”

He snorted, grabbing a towel and following you reluctantly. “Fine, but I’m holding you to that promise to make me more tteokbokki later.”

“Deal!” you laughed as the two of you stepped outside into the frigid air. The cold hit you like a wall, biting at your exposed skin, but you hurried toward the hot tub, eager to escape into its warmth.

As you stripped down to your swimsuit and slipped into the water, a blissful sigh escaped your lips. The contrast between the cold night air and the hot bubbling water was heavenly, instantly melting away the tension in your muscles.

San took his time getting in, shivering as he peeled off his hoodie and jogged over to the tub. “You owe me big for this,” he muttered under his breath, his face scrunching up as he gingerly lowered himself into the steaming water.

“Stop complaining,” you teased, leaning back against the edge of the tub. “You’ll thank me once you warm up.”

He huffed, but you noticed the way his shoulders relaxed almost immediately, the heat of the water working its magic. “Alright, I admit it… this feels pretty damn good.”

“Told you so,” you said smugly, watching him settle across from you.

You both fell into a comfortable silence for a few moments, the only sound the gentle bubbling of the jets and the soft whistle of wind through the trees. The stars overhead were barely visible through the swirling snow, creating a serene winter wonderland around you.

“I can’t believe the guys are all missing out on this,” you mused, breaking the quiet.

San shrugged, his eyes half-closed as he sank deeper into the water. “They’ll probably wake up in a couple of hours and join us. We’ve still got another week of this trip left.”

“True.” You smiled at the thought of the rest of ATEEZ spread out inside the cabin, either asleep from exhaustion or still buzzing from the day’s adventures. It had been a last-minute idea to rent the place for two weeks of relaxation, a break from their usual busy schedules. So far, it had been perfect—just you, the snow-covered mountains, and the warmth of the fire in the evenings.

San opened one eye and glanced at you. “Still, I’m surprised you dragged me out here. You usually let me hide away with my snacks.”

You chuckled. “I needed company for this. And besides, I couldn’t let you miss out on the full cabin experience.”

“Full cabin experience, huh?” His lips curled into a playful smirk as his eyes roamed over your face, taking in your relaxed expression. “You mean soaking in a hot tub while snow falls around us? Yeah, that’s a pretty good experience.”

You shrugged, your own gaze drifting over him as he stretched his arms lazily along the edge of the tub. The way his muscles flexed under the water’s surface sent a shiver down your spine, and you quickly looked away before he noticed.

Unfortunately for you, he did.

“Something on your mind?” San asked, his voice lower now, teasing.

You tried to play it off. “Just thinking about how lucky we are to have this whole place to ourselves.”

“Uh-huh.” He wasn’t buying it, and the way his eyes narrowed on you sent a wave of heat that had nothing to do with the water. “Or maybe you were checking me out.”

You scoffed, splashing him lightly with water. “Oh, please.”

But his grin only widened, and in one swift motion, he reached across the tub, pulling you toward him so quickly you barely had time to react. Your body slid over his lap until you were straddling him in the water, the warmth between your bodies instantly making your heart race.

“San, what are you—”

He cut you off with a smirk, his hands resting on your hips as his dark eyes locked onto yours. “Just getting comfortable. You said something about enjoying the view, right?”

Your pulse quickened at the intensity in his gaze, and you found yourself unable to look away. “I—I was talking about the snow…”

“Sure you were,” he murmured, his hands tightening their grip on your hips as he pulled you closer, your faces inches apart now. “So, tell me… why do you keep looking at me like that?”

You swallowed hard, the air between you thick with tension. “I wasn’t… I mean—”

“Liar,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “You’ve been teasing me all day, and now here we are… just the two of us.”

Your breath hitched as his hands roamed over your sides, pulling you firmly against him. “I wasn’t trying to—”

“Uh-huh.” His voice was a low rumble now, vibrating through you as his lips ghosted over your neck. “So what do you want, then? Because right now… I think I know what you’re after.”

Your mind was spinning, but the moment his lips brushed against your neck, all rational thought flew out the window. You had imagined this scenario—being this close to San, feeling his hands on you—for longer than you cared to admit. Now that it was happening, there was no turning back.

Instead of answering, you leaned in and captured his lips in a kiss, soft at first, testing the waters. But the second San responded, pulling you even closer, the kiss deepened, quickly turning into something heated, something hungry.

His hands roamed across your body under the water, caressing your hips, sliding up your back, while his lips moved against yours with raw, unrestrained passion. The warmth of the hot tub paled in comparison to the fire building between you as you both gave in to the desire that had been simmering for so long.

When he pulled back slightly, his breath hot against your ear, he murmured, “You’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you?”

You nodded, your heart racing as his hands settled on your waist again. “Yeah… for a while.”

His eyes darkened with desire, and his voice dropped lower. “Good. So have I.”

San’s hands gripped your waist more firmly now, fingers pressing into your skin as though he couldn’t get enough of the feel of you. The warmth of the water and his touch combined, making it hard to tell where one sensation ended and the other began. His hands slowly trailed from your waist up to your ribs, thumbs brushing teasingly just under your breasts, but he didn’t move further yet—like he was savoring each moment, each reaction.

You let out a soft gasp, the anticipation building as his thumbs ghosted along the curve of your breasts, so close to touching where you wanted him most, but still holding back. The way his hands explored your body felt both careful and possessive, like he was claiming you in slow, deliberate movements.

When his mouth found yours again, it wasn’t tentative like the first kiss—it was all heat. His lips moved over yours with an intensity that made your heart race, pulling a soft moan from deep within your throat. He nipped at your lower lip, just enough to make your breath hitch, before soothing it with a slow, sensuous drag of his tongue.

Meanwhile, his hands continued their exploration. One hand slipped behind your back, pulling you even closer to him, the other dipping just below the surface of the water, tracing a line back down to your hips, then slipping around to grip your ass firmly. He pressed your body flush against his, the friction between your bodies under the water sending sparks of heat straight to your core.

You could feel the hard lines of his chest against your softer curves, the firm muscles of his thighs beneath you as you straddled him. Every shift, every subtle movement, heightened the awareness of your bodies pressed together, the tension building with every second.

San’s lips left yours, trailing wet kisses down your jaw and to your neck, each one making your skin tingle. He nipped lightly at your earlobe before whispering against your skin, “You like this, don’t you?”

You could only nod, your breath catching in your throat as his hands roamed again, this time venturing higher. His thumb grazed over your nipple through your swimsuit top, and the sensation was electric. You arched into him instinctively, a low whimper escaping your lips at the light touch.

“You’re so sensitive here,” he murmured, his voice rough, almost teasing. His thumb circled the stiffened peak, the wet fabric clinging to your skin, making the sensation more intense. He repeated the motion, this time applying a little more pressure, causing a rush of heat to shoot straight through you.

“San,” you breathed, your voice coming out in a needy whisper as he continued to tease your nipple with slow, deliberate strokes. He pinched it lightly between his fingers, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body that made your hips press harder against his. You could feel his growing arousal beneath you, hard and insistent, and it only fueled your own desire.

His other hand wasn’t idle, either. It moved down your body, skimming over your ribs, your waist, before settling on your thigh. His fingers gripped you there, squeezing lightly before sliding upward, dangerously close to where you ached for him most. He paused just at the edge of your swimsuit bottoms, teasing you, his fingers brushing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, so close but not quite touching.

“San, please…” The words slipped out before you could stop them, your need for him evident in your voice. Every touch, every kiss had you on edge, your body desperate for more of him.

He let out a soft chuckle, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you. “You want more?”

You nodded quickly, your hands clutching his shoulders as you fought to keep your breathing steady. “Yes… please.”

His response was a low, rumbling growl against your neck as his fingers finally slid beneath the thin fabric of your swimsuit bottoms. His touch was gentle at first, exploring, as if he wanted to memorize every inch of you. But then his fingers found your clit, and the light, teasing circles he began to rub had your head falling back, a moan escaping your lips.

The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and heat pooling deep in your core. His fingers moved with practiced ease, alternating between light, teasing strokes and firmer pressure that had your body responding in ways you couldn’t control. You rocked your hips against his hand, desperate for more friction, more of the intense pleasure he was giving you.

Meanwhile, his mouth had found its way back to your breasts. He tugged down the fabric of your swimsuit top with his teeth, exposing one of your nipples to the cool air before his warm mouth closed around it. The contrast between the hot tub’s heat, the cool air, and the warmth of his mouth on your sensitive skin was dizzying.

San’s tongue flicked over your nipple, and the sensation shot through you like a bolt of lightning. His mouth alternated between soft sucks and gentle bites, his teeth grazing your skin just enough to make your breath hitch. Every little movement sent more pleasure surging through you, your body aching for release.

His free hand, the one still working between your thighs, moved faster now, the circles on your clit becoming more insistent, more precise. Your hips moved on their own, grinding against his hand as the pressure inside you built higher and higher, the pleasure threatening to overwhelm you completely.

You were lost in the sensation, every touch, every kiss driving you closer to the edge. The sound of San’s breathing, ragged and uneven against your skin, only fueled your desire. You could feel how much he wanted you, the hard length of him pressing against your thigh, but he was focused on you, on giving you exactly what you needed.

When his fingers slipped inside you, stretching you, filling you, a sharp gasp tore from your throat. The sensation of his fingers moving inside you, combined with the constant, steady pressure on your clit, was too much. Your body tensed, your muscles tightening as the wave of pleasure built, higher and higher, until it finally crashed over you.

You came hard, your entire body trembling as the orgasm ripped through you, leaving you breathless and clinging to San as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. His fingers didn’t stop, guiding you through it, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until you were spent, collapsing against his chest, your heart pounding in your chest.

San held you there, his hand still resting gently on your thigh as you came down from the high, his breath hot against your neck. You could feel his own need, the way his body trembled slightly under you, but he hadn’t asked for anything in return.

“You okay?” he murmured against your ear, his voice soft now, tender.

You nodded, still catching your breath, your fingers tracing the lines of his chest as you leaned against him. “More than okay…”

He chuckled softly, kissing the top of your head. “Good.”

San’s lips lingered on the top of your head, his hand resting possessively on your thigh, still gripping you lightly as if he wasn’t ready to let go just yet. The sound of the hot tub bubbling beneath you filled the air, mingling with the faint sounds of laughter and chatter from inside the cabin, a reminder that your friends were only a few feet away—completely unaware of the heated moment you and San had just shared.

The thought sent a rush of excitement through you, your pulse quickening as you realized how close you had come to being discovered. But instead of pulling away or feeling embarrassed, the thrill only heightened your desire for him. The way he had touched you, the way he had brought you to the brink of ecstasy with nothing more than his fingers and mouth, left you wanting more.

You shifted slightly in his lap, feeling his hard length pressing against you through the thin fabric of his swim trunks. He hadn’t gotten his release yet, and you could feel the tension in his body as he tried to hold back, to give you space to recover.

But you didn’t want him to hold back. Not anymore.

With a teasing smile, you reached between your bodies, your hand trailing over his abs, feeling the muscles tense beneath your touch as you moved lower. San’s breath hitched when your hand finally brushed over the bulge in his trunks, and you could feel how badly he wanted you. The heat from his arousal matched the intensity you felt, and you knew he was just as desperate for more as you were.

“Y/N…” His voice was low, a warning, but his body betrayed him. His hips bucked slightly into your hand, the need in him too strong to hide.

You bit your lip, leaning forward to press a slow, deliberate kiss to the hollow of his throat. “What’s wrong, San?” you whispered against his skin, your lips brushing over his collarbone as your hand began to stroke him through the fabric. “You didn’t think I’d forget about you, did you?”

San let out a ragged breath, his hands tightening on your waist as you continued to tease him. His head fell back against the edge of the hot tub, his eyes closing as he tried to steady his breathing. “You’re gonna drive me crazy…” he muttered, but there was no real protest in his voice. If anything, he sounded like he was barely holding it together, each stroke of your hand sending him closer to the edge.

You smiled against his skin, loving the way he was unraveling under your touch. You wanted to make him feel just as good as he had made you feel, to give him the same kind of pleasure he had given you. And you weren’t going to stop until he was completely undone.

Your fingers slipped beneath the waistband of his swim trunks, finally wrapping around his hard length. The moment you touched him, San let out a deep, guttural groan, his hips lifting off the seat as if his body couldn’t help but chase the sensation. He was thick and heavy in your hand, the heat of him pulsing against your palm as you began to stroke him slowly, savoring every reaction.

“Fuck… Y/N…” San’s voice was hoarse, his breathing labored as you continued to pump your hand along his length. His fingers dug into your hips, pulling you tighter against him as he struggled to keep himself from completely losing control.

But you didn’t want him to hold back. You wanted him wild, unrestrained.

Your thumb brushed over the tip of his cock, slick with precum, and you spread it over his length as you quickened your pace, your hand working him with slow, deliberate strokes that had his body trembling beneath you. His moans grew louder, more desperate, and the way his hips moved in time with your hand told you he was close.

But you weren’t done with him yet.

You leaned forward again, capturing his lips in a hungry kiss as your free hand slid up his chest, your fingers trailing over his pecs before finding one of his nipples. You pinched it lightly, rolling it between your fingers, and San let out a sharp gasp against your mouth, his body jerking in response to the unexpected stimulation.

“Y/N…” He was barely holding on now, his voice rough and strained as his hips bucked into your hand with more urgency. “I’m not… I’m not gonna last if you keep…”

But that was exactly what you wanted. You wanted to see him lose control, to watch him come undone beneath your touch.

Your lips left his, trailing hot kisses down his neck, over his chest, until your mouth found his other nipple. You sucked it into your mouth, your tongue flicking over the sensitive bud as your hand continued to work his cock in firm, steady strokes.

San’s reaction was immediate. His head fell back against the tub, a deep moan escaping his lips as his hands clutched at your waist, his entire body trembling with the effort of holding back. But it was no use. You could feel the way his cock twitched in your hand, the way his breathing grew more ragged with each passing second.

He was so close.

“Y/N… fuck… I’m gonna…” His voice was strained, barely a whisper as his hips jerked uncontrollably beneath you.

You didn’t stop. You didn’t let up for even a second. Your hand moved faster, squeezing him just right, your lips and tongue working his nipple with a relentless intensity that had him teetering on the edge.

And then, with a broken moan that was half your name, half a desperate plea, San finally came.

You felt the hot rush of his release spill over your hand, his body convulsing beneath you as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over him. His fingers dug into your skin, holding you close as he rode out his orgasm, his entire body trembling with the intensity of it.

You didn’t stop touching him, didn’t stop kissing him, guiding him through it just as he had done for you. You loved the way he looked in that moment—completely undone, vulnerable, and utterly yours.

When it was over, San collapsed back against the tub, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. You leaned forward, pressing a soft, tender kiss to his lips, your hand still resting lightly on his chest as you smiled down at him.

He opened his eyes, staring up at you with a dazed, satisfied grin. “You’re… unbelievable,” he murmured, his voice still thick with exhaustion and pleasure.

You grinned back, giving him a playful kiss on the tip of his nose. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

For a few moments, the two of you simply sat there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the warm water of the hot tub swirling around you. It felt peaceful, intimate, like the rest of the world had faded away, leaving only the two of you.

But the sound of laughter and footsteps from inside the cabin quickly reminded you that you weren’t alone. You both turned toward the door, where you could hear the others moving about, probably getting ready to head outside again.

San chuckled softly, pulling you closer. “We should probably head back in before someone notices we’ve been gone too long.”

You both hurried out of the hot tub, the cool air hitting your wet skin and sending a shiver through you. San helped you tug the cover back over the tub, your fingers fumbling a little from the cold. Once everything was back in place, you quickly grabbed your towels and wrapped them around yourselves, laughing as you stumbled toward the cabin.

Thankfully, the door wasn’t locked, and you slipped back inside the warmth, your body still tingling from the heated moments with San. You thought you had made a clean escape—until you walked into the common area.

There, sprawled across the couches and chairs, were the rest of the ATEEZ members, mid-game of Solitaire. They all turned to look at you and San as you entered, dripping wet and shivering like a pair of soaked rats. You were definitely worse off, your hair still damp and sticking to your neck, while San’s was mostly dry.

Yeosang was the first to speak, his eyebrows raised as he looked between the two of you. “Looks like you had fun.”

You glanced at San, whose lips quirked up in a guilty smile. Before either of you could respond, Wooyoung groaned dramatically, throwing his head back against the couch cushions. “Great, now I don’t want to go in the hot tub anymore.”

Hongjoong, who had been shuffling through the deck of cards, let out an exasperated sigh. “You guys contaminated the tub already? We’ve only been here for one day.”

Seonghwa, ever the calm one, simply shrugged. “Just means we need to clean it before we get in. No big deal.”

“I’m never getting in that thing,” Jongho muttered, folding his arms over his chest with a look of disgust. “You two better be the ones cleaning it.”

Mingi, however, burst out laughing. “Doing it in the hot tub, huh? That’s gotta be a bucket list thing.” He winked, clearly enjoying your flustered expressions.

You pulled your towel tighter around your body, cheeks flushed, not just from the cold. San, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying the attention. “What can I say? It’s a good spot,” he teased, earning a round of groans and playful jeers from the others.

“Come on, San, at least try to be subtle,” Yunho chuckled, though there was a mischievous glint in his eyes as he dealt the next round of cards.

“You should both go get changed before you catch a cold,” Seonghwa suggested kindly, giving you an understanding smile.

“Yeah, and come back for a game,” Hongjoong added. “I could use another victim—I mean, player.”

You and San exchanged amused looks before quickly scurrying off to your rooms, eager to change out of your wet clothes. As you reached your door, San stopped you with a playful grin, leaning closer so only you could hear. “Wanna meet up later? My room?”

You raised an eyebrow at him, pretending to consider his offer. “Not very subtle, San.”

He shrugged, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “I could be even less subtle.”

Before you could respond, you heard a voice from down the hall. “I hope you’re not planning anything scandalous tonight. We’ve got plans to play a drinking game later.” It was Wooyoung, smirking at the two of you from the hallway.

San groaned, and you couldn’t help but laugh. “We’ll see,” you teased before slipping inside your room to change, eager to get back to the others—and perhaps more excited about what might come later.

As you closed the door behind you, you couldn’t stop the smile spreading across your face. The night was still young, and with two weeks left at the cabin, there was no telling what else was in store for you and San. But one thing was for sure—you wouldn’t be getting much sleep tonight.

[sunnyville36]

Mamihlapinatapai {part 2}

Thank you all so sooo much for the kind feedback on part 1! Part 2 is coming at you now! 💜

Need to catch up? {overview} {part 1}

Pairing: Bang Chan x Female Reader

Themes: royal au, medieval au, court intrigue, arranged marriage, original characters, mutual pining, slow burn

Warnings: injuries, mentions of death/war/murder, emotionally abusive parents

Rating: Mature

Word count: 4.5k

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Mamihlapinatapai - (noun, Yagán origin) a silent acknowledgement and understanding between two people, who are both wishing or thinking the same thing (and are both unwilling to initiate)

A Summer’s Ball  |  Kingdom of Gu, present day

The next few days were just as tumultuous as the first, Chan and Korenna slowly progressing from treating each other with complete silence, to short-lived bickering, to finally being able to hold a civil conversation for at least a few minutes.  You escorted them to more ceremony preparation meetings, then to councils with the foreign affairs ministers, the historians, the priests, each one stressing how this union would be a stepping stone in your two kingdoms’ relations and they should think of it as a huge honor.  You couldn’t help but feel sorry for the both of them, being reminded over and over how their lives were simply a means to an end, to be controlled at the whim of their fathers’ aspirations.

A turning point finally came when the three of you visited the city surrounding the palace grounds, the prince refusing to miss his weekly visit to the village market.  Chan loved to interact with his people, to support their businesses, to hear their grievances, to show he cared.  You followed behind the two of them as you walked through the plaza lined with stalls, Chan waving to each of the merchants, Korenna watching him with a mix of reservation and admiration.

“Your people seem to be thriving.  I wish I could say the same about our villages.”

You eyed Chan, knew he was forcing himself to hold back a biting remark, likely about how if Lajor’s people were currently suffering, it was the monarchy’s fault.  He finally came up with a question, trying his best to keep the conversation going.

“Have you brought up your concerns to your father?”

“I’ve tried, but he doesn’t want to listen to anything I have to say.  All he cares about is what he thinks is right, no matter who suffers for it.”

Chan nodded solemnly, “I can understand that.”

Korenna gave him a somber look and appeared to have something more she wanted to say, but was promptly dragged off by a small child wanting to show her his father’s bakery stall.

You nudged Chan’s arm.  “See, she’s not so bad, Your Highness.  If you give her a chance.”

He started in the direction of the princess, turning to walk backwards and smile at you with his arms out in a lighthearted shrug, “If you say so.”

***

That evening the king was hosting a ball, to celebrate the engagement of the prince.  You’d helped Chan dress, his midnight blue velvet ensemble and dark hair set off against the silver crown he wore making him look more like a deity of the moon than an earthly prince.  Then you had gone to assist Korenna.  You couldn’t deny how beautiful she looked as you watched her from across the room, her champagne colored gown and perfectly curled blonde hair standing out against the relatively muted colors worn by the other attendees.  She was standing away from Chan, talking amongst a group of noblemen’s wives and other high powered ladies, but her eyes never strayed far from his back as he talked with Minho and some other knights around a wooden table in the corner.

“You look quite stunning tonight, Y/n.  Purple is definitely your color,” came a deep voice on your left, and you turned to see Prince Felix approaching you, his small frame clothed in a breathtaking deep red suit.  The younger brother of Prince Minho, Felix had the sunniest personality of anyone you’d ever met, quite contrasting to his voice but in perfect harmony with the bright smile he flashed as he reached your side.  It had been several months since you’d last seen him, his studies as apprentice to your kingdom’s Chief Healer taking him to the academy in the highlands far away from the city.

“Prince Felix!” you exclaimed, arms reaching to pull him into a quick hug.  “I could say the same for you; that red suits you perfectly, Your Grace.”

Felix laughed, releasing you from his hold.  You and he had been close friends since childhood, ever since, at the age of 5, he’d stepped on the hem of your skirt and you’d pushed him into a mud puddle, causing guards to rush over and attempt to have you arrested.  His mother and the queen had stepped in, calming the guards as you remorsefully reached out your hand to help him up only to be pulled down into the mud next to him, the both of you dissolving into fits of laughter.

“I’ve missed the city.  And it seems the city has missed me for all the excitement it’s spun up in my absence.”  His eyes followed your gaze to where Korenna had made her way over to Chan, and watched as she led him out to the quiet balcony overlooking the gardens.  “How are you taking all of this?”

“I’m fine, Your Grace.  What reason would I have not to celebrate such a momentous occasion?”

Felix fixed you with a knowing look, but dropped the subject, content to stand with you at the edge of the dance floor.

“Y/n, I thought I told you not to let Christopher and the princess out of your sight,” came King Bang’s voice from behind you.  “The last thing we need is for them to get into one of their verbal sparring matches with the whole court present.”

You turned, lowering your head to the king.  “Of course, Your Majesty.”

You left Felix next to the king, his expression turned to one of distaste at his new company, and walked quietly out onto the balcony where the couple was talking.

They were standing closer together than you had ever seen them, leaning forward against the railing’s edge.  They seemed to be deep in conversation, Korenna actually reaching her hand up to place it on Chan’s back.  It didn’t feel right watching them without their knowledge, so you cleared your throat loudly, causing both their heads to snap up.  Chan looked slightly embarrassed, his head tilting forward, but Korenna’s expression was almost unreadable.  She stood staring at you for a few  seconds, then pursed her lips, nodded her head to Chan, and walked back into the main ballroom as you approached him.

“I apologize, Your Highness, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Trust me, Y/n, you didn’t,” came Chan’s tired reply.  You wanted to know if she had upset him, to know how you could comfort him.

“What were you discussing?”

A soft song started to make its way out from the half-open door.  Chan looked up at you, completely ignoring your question.

“Dance with me?”

Several seconds went by in silence.  He reached out his hand, eyes imploring you to say something, to say yes.

This was dangerous.  You couldn’t think of a worse position to be caught in, dancing with a betrothed man far above your stature.  But you also couldn’t think of a way to say no to him.

You took his hand and he pulled you flush against him immediately.  You tried to resist the urge to place your head on his chest, but the feeling of being in his arms was too much, made you feel so safe.  So you laid your cheek there and felt a low hum come up through his chest.  It was quiet for a while, the two of you simply swaying back and forth, not doing any particular dance.  You felt his head rise from where it had been resting on top of your head.

“I’ve always thought you were beautiful, but you look gorgeous tonight Y/n.”

“You told me that earlier, Your Highness.”

“I know.  I wanted to tell you again.”

Then he placed his head back down and you continued to spin in slow circles until the song ended.  He brought your movements to a stop, taking your hand and kissing the top of it as he leaned forward in an exaggerated bow, “Thank you for the dance, my lady.”

You looked at him with a small smile.  “You’re welcome, Your Highness.”

He returned your smile, turned, and walked back towards the party.  You felt your chest tighten, feeling a little too much like your dance had been his way of saying goodbye.

Thinly Veiled Threats  |  Kingdom of Gu, 6 years ago

“Watch out!”

You turned towards the direction of the voice just in time to see Chan break through the wooden fence in front of you, thrown off his horse by the force of the lance he just took to the chest.

The prince had just turned seventeen, which made him eligible to compete in the annual Four Kingdom Competition, where knights, lords, and even royalty from the continent’s four greatest kingdoms met to determine who among them would be crowned victor in a series of strength tests.  His father had of course insisted he enter on his first eligible year, which had led to the activity you were currently engaged in, training a boy who was used to classrooms, libraries, and diplomacy lessons the intricacies of hand to hand combat.  The tasks ranged from archery to sword fighting, wrestling to jousting, and while Chan knew his way around a broadsword and shield, it was clear that the latter of those was not going to be Chan’s strong suit.

You walked calmly towards where he sat on the ground, knowing he would only be more embarrassed by any attempts to rush to his aide.  He was sitting up, so you could tell he wasn’t badly injured, but his right hand still stretched across his abdomen to clutch at his left side.  He’d been hit there at least three times now, and if you had to guess, what was once a bad bruise was more likely a patch of broken skin at this point.

Voices floated around you as you pushed your way through the small crowd that had gathered around him, many asking the prince if he was alright or giving unsolicited advice on how to avoid the outcome he seemed to be cursed with.  You picked up on the voice of a squire, one who served the boy who had knocked Chan down most recently, as he nudged the side of the older boy’s arm.

“You could have gone a little easier on him, you know.  His mother just died.”

Great.  Just what you needed; a physically and emotionally wounded Chan.

“Alright, give him some room everyone.  His Highness is fine; go back to your own practicing.”  You shooed away the stragglers and knelt so Chan could wrap his free arm around your neck, hoisting him up and slowly making your way to the infirmary tent.  Leaning him against the side of a cot, you reached for the clean cloth and distilled vodka; this was going to hurt like a bitch, but Chan could take it.

“You’re pulling back too much and too early, it leaves your side vulnerable,” you said, carefully easing off his ripped tunic so you could tend to his wound.

He stayed silent for a few moments, fingers gripping harshly against your shoulder as you cleaned the cut and wrapped a bandage around his midsection.

“I…,” he trailed off, seeming to struggle to find the words he was looking for.  “I’m a coward.  I’m a failure and a coward and everyone knew it except me, until just now.”

His words knocked the wind out of you.  You knew he was ashamed (entirely unnecessarily) when he couldn’t hold back the tears at his mother’s funeral while his father maintained his perfectly stoic expression (that heartless bastard), knew he was self-conscious about his fighting abilities, but you’d never heard him express that insecurity so directly before.

“Your Highness,” you spoke softly but forcefully, hands cupping his face to make him look you in the eye, “you are one of the bravest men I know.  You have one of the hardest burdens a person can bear on your shoulders, have had it since you were born, and you carry it with grace and dignity and compassion.  You inspire me and countless others every day with your strength and generosity.  You are not a coward.”

He looked back at you, and suddenly you felt yourself being engulfed in his embrace, his legs parting to pull you close to him.  He wrapped his arms tightly around your chest, his head pressing into the crook of your neck.  Slowly you brought your hands up and began to rub small circles on his bare back.  This was the most emotion he’d shown since that night you stood beside his mother’s bed, watching as he held her hand and whispered all the things he wanted to tell her one last time.  You were a little overwhelmed, but mostly happy, happy that maybe he was feeling again.  Eventually you heard his quiet voice next to your ear, “Thank you, Y/n.”

Then he released you from his hold, donned his shirt, and walked back to the jousting pitch.  You watched him go, until a deliberate cough came from behind you, shattering your reverie.

“I suppose he’s lucky to have you.”  The words spilled from the king’s mouth, his signature gravelly voice seeming to chase all other sound from the tent.

“My apologies, Your Majesty, I hadn’t noticed you were here,” you spoke, bending into a curtsey.

“It seems it is quite easy for the two of you not to notice others when you think you are alone.”

You blinked, unsure of where the king was going with his remarks.  He sidled up to you, close enough you could hear him at a whisper.

“I may have owed your family a debt, but that has been repaid ten-fold.  I know my son, know he would never be led astray of his responsibilities unless you gave credence to those thoughts in his head, fed his intimate physical desires.  So do not delude yourself into thinking you can take him from me, little servant girl.  And if he ever does come to me, asking me to set aside our laws, our traditions, so he can marry you, I’ll know what you have done, and you will never see the light of day again.  Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Satisfied with your response, he left you there, his words staining your mind like the bloody cloth you clutched in your hands.

The Hunt  |  Kingdom of Gu, present day

How he managed to get his father to agree to this you had no idea.  But Chan always was very convincing when he needed to be.

You were preparing for a day’s long hunt.  In all honesty it was an excellent idea; it would give Chan space to be himself after having been shut inside the palace for two weeks, preparing for his impending nuptials.  Normally this was one of your favorite activities to do with Chan and the knights; getting to ride, to spend time in the woods, maybe use your bow.  But the one condition of the king’s agreement had been that Korenna was going too.

She’d been different with you, with everyone really, since that night on the balcony, avoiding attempts to make small talk and speaking harshly when she made requests.  You didn’t want your relationship with her to turn sour, seeing as you’d soon be serving her for the rest of her life (and yours), so you held your tongue and pressed on with your duties.

Chan’s black courser and your chestnut palfrey were saddled, and you were in the midst of preparing a well-tempered white mare for the princess.

“Good morning, Y/n.”

You looked up, seeing the dark head of hair and upside down smirk belonging to Prince Minho smiling down at you as he leaned over your kneeling frame.  “Good morning, Your Grace.”

You were not as close to Minho as you were to Felix, but you had always gotten along well, your similar sense of humor and affinity for archery solidifying your friendship.

He offered his hand to pull you up, which you accepted.  “I’m glad you will be joining us on this outing, Y/n.  I’m not sure I could handle Chan and Korenna on my own, even with 5 other knights to accompany me.”

You hummed in agreement, finishing attaching the bridle around the mare’s head.  “I’m not sure you could either, Your Grace.”

Minho let out his signature high pitched laugh as the rest of your party approached, and the two of you maneuvered to the front of the pack as you set off towards the nearby woods.  You all rode in silence for a while, riding not typically being an activity that required much talking, until you heard Korenna speak from her position next to Chan in the middle of your group.

“So, who is the best at the strength tasks of the Four Kingdom Competition?”

A strange question to ask so out of the blue, but you supposed it was somewhat relevant to the situation at hand.

“His Highness is an excellent swordsman,” you replied, looking back slightly in their direction.

“Sir Jeongin has given us all a run for our money in the wrestling ring,” you heard a voice from the back say.  He must be one of the other knights in your party.

Chan replied next, “Minho is a skilled horseman, beats me in the joust nearly every time.”

Minho’s eyebrows rose up at that, smirking as he rounded out the answers, “And Y/n here is an expert marksman.  She’s the best I’ve ever seen with a bow.”

You thanked him mentally, hoping he could read it in the look on your face.  You weren’t about to boast about your own talents to the princess, but it was nice to know that she was now aware you weren’t just some lovesick girl who followed the prince around, that you actually took your responsibilities seriously.

“Really?  And who taught you about archery, Y/n?”  You thought you heard a touch of menace in her normally high pitched voice, but brushed it off.

“I’ve had many teachers, Your Grace, but the first was my father.”

“How very… non-traditional.  Where is your father now?  I’d love to meet him.”

You saw Chan and Minho tense in their saddles, well aware of what your answer would be.

“He died, Your Grace.”

“Oh,” said Korenna, her voice noticeably softer now, “I apologize for bringing up a sore subject.”

“It’s alright, Your Grace,” you replied.  “It was a long time ago.  You couldn’t have known.”

An uncomfortable silence fell on the group then, but luckily your first planned stop was not far ahead.  A small grove of trees surrounding a clearing was where you usually began the hunt, splitting off in different directions and meeting back there before sundown.  But because you had the princess with you today, it was a more laid back affair, and you’d planned to have a picnic of sorts before you continued in earnest.

Everyone set about unpacking the sacks that carried your meal for the day.  You uncorked your canteen, taking a sip before heaving an exasperated sigh.

You’d forgotten to bring extra water for the horses.

You called over to Chan, where he stood spreading out a blanket for Korenna to sit on.

“Your Highness, I’m going to the creek to get water for the horses.”

Chan looked up and you could see the smile on his face from where you stood across the grove.  “I’ll go with you!” he said happily, only to have his arm tugged back by the princess next to him.

“You are not a servant, Chan.  I’m sure Y/n can go by herself.”

Your loud conversation had caught the attention of the rest of the group, who were all looking over at you in interest.  You were surprised by her bluntness, but she did have a point.  “Her Grace is right, I don’t need you to accompany me, Your Highness.  I simply wanted to tell you where I was going.”

Chan gave a side glare at Korenna, but agreed.  “Fine, but you shouldn’t go alone.  Sir Jeongin - “

A tall boy, clad in the red, black, and gold uniform of your knights, walked over to the prince.   He was no more than eighteen, must have only just taken his oath.  You remembered his name from the earlier conversation about the strength tests, impressed he was making a name for himself so early.

“ - please accompany Y/n to the stream to fetch water for the horses.”

“Of course, Your Highness.”

So the two of you set off, leaving the rest to their meals.  You didn’t really need a knight for protection, but your heart warmed at the gesture of Chan not wanting you to go alone.  You arrived at the bank of the creek and began filling some extra pouches you had brought with water.

“It’s so much quieter here,” Jeongin commented absentmindedly.

Despite the sound of the water running, you agreed it did seem calmer here than in the grove you came from.  As you knelt by the edge of the stream, you noticed large patches of grass surrounding some nearby trees had been pressed down.  Curious, you walked over to the area, observing the singed ground and muddy boot prints on the rocks, telltale signs of human presence.  You hadn’t run into anyone else on your walk over, but maybe there were some others out riding today.  Raising your head, you called to your companion, “Sir Jeongin!  Were there any other hunting parties out today?”

“Not that I know of, Miss,” Jeongin replied, his expression revealing he was rather confused by your question.

You looked around again, and that was when you noticed the torn piece of blue fabric latched to a jagged branch on a nearby tree.  Your blood ran cold and you grabbed Jeongin’s arm, breaking into a run.

“We need to get back to them.  Now.”

You’d made it about half way back to the grove when you heard a scream, you and Jeongin sprinting to reach the clearing.  But when you arrived, the scene was entirely not what you expected.

Your mind had immediately gone to the Lajorans when you spotted that piece of cloth on the tree.  But here you stood, watching men clad in your own colors raise their swords to clash with the group of knights who’d accompanied you and the royals.  Your eyes frantically searched among the chaos, looking for Chan, but before you could spot him you noticed Korenna, hiding alone behind a large rock at the edge of the treeline.  You pulled Jeongin back behind a tree, gesturing in her direction.

“Do you see the princess over there?  You’re going to grab her, get on a horse, and ride back to the palace now.”

Jeongin was looking at you with wide, scared eyes; his mouth was open, not making a sound.

You shook his shoulder.  “Sir Jeongin, do you understand me?  Do not look back at us, just take the princess and get her to safety.  I need you to do this.”

Your words seemed to finally reach him, and he set his mouth in a straight line.  “Yes, I can do that.”

“Good.  Go.  And don’t look back.”

He left your spot behind the tree and you turned back to the action in the grove, still trying to find the prince.  Finally your eyes landed on two men standing back to back, swords flying as they blocked the attack of about 6 different men.

Chan and Minho.

You started towards them, reaching for your own sword, when you spotted someone perched in a tree right outside the circle of men.  The attackers started to pull back from around the two princes, and you could see exactly who the archer had in his line of sight.

You screamed his name, sprinting to cross the clearing and threw your body in front of him, arms outstretched.

You felt a sharp pain in your left shoulder as you fell against Chan’s chest, his arms coming up to catch you.

“Y/n!  Y/n!”

Trumpets were blaring from the direction of the castle as Minho dragged Chan back, still desperately clutching you in his arms.  The attackers were dispersing and you heard the sound of a voice saying “Chris”; it took a moment for you to realize it was your own.

“I’m here, Y/n, I’m here.  Just hold on please.  You’re going to be okay, just please hold on.”

The last thing you saw were his eyes as your vision went black.

Of Flower Buds and Roots  |  Kingdom of Gu, 16 years ago

“Mother, when will they be here?”

You were standing in the open-air courtyard at the front of the palace, your mother’s hands on your shoulders.  The two of you had moved to the palace a few years ago, when your mother had gotten a job as a servant there after the war ended.  Today, you were told, would be the day you were to start your position there, as personal attendant to the young crown prince.

“I’m sure soon darling.  Remember we never rush royalty.”

As you waited, your eye was caught by a small boy standing with a large scary looking man.  He looked to be about your age and was holding a tiny bouquet of wildflowers in his hand.  The man seemed to be trying to take them away, but the boy clutched them to his chest.  A woman who you thought you’d seen before approached them, glaring at the man, who backed away from the boy as she took his hand.  Then, they started walking towards you.

Your mother tightened her grip on your shoulders, bending into a curtsey and pushing you down with her.  “It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty.”

“The pleasure is ours,” came the queen’s pleasant voice.  She knelt down between you and the boy.

“You must be Y/n.  This is my son Christopher, the prince.  You will serve as his attendant.”

You stared at the boy, his eyes even with yours, hair mussed and shirt covered in dirt.

“He doesn’t look like a prince.  He looks like me”

“Y/n!” your mother gasped, the queen chuckling slightly and calming your mother with a hand on her arm.

“You’re right, he might not look like one yet.  But it’s going to be your job to help him become one.  Do you think you can do that?”

You pondered her question and finally said, “Yes, Your Majesty.”

She smiled and stepped aside, placing her hands on Chan’s back and pushing him forward.

“Hi Y/n!” the boy said excitedly.  “My name’s Chris.  Or Chan.  Either’s fine!  I brought you these flowers!  I thought they might look pretty in your hair.”

He extended his tiny fist holding the flowers and you took one from the bunch, pulling back your hair and putting the flower behind your ear.

Chan’s face immediately lit up in the brightest smile you’d ever seen, his eyes crinkling cutely.  “I was right!”

From that moment on, you decided there was nothing you wouldn’t do to see that smile on his face.

{part 3}

[jennana501]

A Case for Rexsoka

I’ve been around the block when it comes to ships. I’ve seen people obsess over them, and I too have been driven mad by obsession. I was a hardcore original avatar fan and I was OBSESSED with shipping Toph and Sokka together. Any time they so much as made an interaction I over analyzed it and picked it apart looking for clues that somehow would prove that my hunches were correct. It was because I related with both characters, and I loved their chemistry. I wanted them to have a romantic relationship because it would feel like some sort of personal validation.

I’m an adult now and nothing has changed. But it has been a while since I’ve desperately shipped two characters together that are not obviously romantically involved with one another, or who could be romantic behind the scenes or beyond the story shown.

Until Rex and Ahsoka.

And I’ve seen people be adamantly against it. 

“No no no it’s just a brother/sister relationship.” 

“No it’s gross she is a child”.

And of course being disagreed with on the internet can drive a person crazy, and instead of individually arguing with dozens of people online, I’m making this post once and for all to explain why I think Rex and Ahsoka have romantic feelings for each other. Especially Rex.

The argument I’ve seen, that their deep passion, commitment, love, admiration, and respect for one another (which are all so obvious you’d have to be...silly to not see it) are felt in a platonic fashion. Which, for the first 6 seasons and 8 episodes, I would totally agree.

But then Ahsoka comes back. And let’s face it. She is a woman. Age wise, she’s around 17, but everything from the maturity of her Lekku (which weirdly don’t get all that longer, especially compared to other Tagrutan women) to her poise and confidence, to her prowess as a warrior, a user of the force, and her ability to command soldiers as well as control her emotions points to her being an adult woman. She’s no Snips anymore; she’s no child. She’s grown up. And how her peers react to her illustrates how they now view her as an adult.

First there is Obi-wan. Obi-wan has always been a mentor to her, a sort of second Master. Obi-wan never hesitated to guide and Ahsoka or offer his council. He is proud of her when she succeeds, and will admonish her when she makes mistakes. When she returns and he sees her as a woman, he changes the way he treats her. He acknowledges her maturity by addressing her as an equal. He doesn’t admonish her. Instead he discusses with her, challenging her ideas and letting her offer an argument for them instead of putting them down and telling her how she should think or act. He also comes to her in his time of need, trusting her to help him with Anakin.

Then there is Anakin. We all know of Anisoka shippers, and they are perfectly able to ship and enjoy said ship, but we can all acknowledge that it is a crack pairing with no basis in the canon. Anakin portrays the perfect kind of brotherly love. He is excited to see Ahsoka, and is stunned by her unexpected reappearance. Things are harder for Anakin because he is used to their fun banter and sibling-like companionship. He’s constantly shut down with her business like manner and he struggles with coming to terms with the fact that she isn’t a little kid sister anymore. She is an adult with a mission and a plan. When he looks at her, he is endearing. He loves her. Admires her. And he can’t wait to pick up where they left off. There’s joy and adoration in his face. He is proud of her and what she has become, but he also feels alienated and even hurt because of how her adulthood has changed their dynamic.

Then there is Rex. When he first sees her, he wants nothing more than to reassure her that she still belongs. The clones had accepted her into their family. As far as they were concerned, she was one of them. When he looks at her for the first time, he’s beaming with the same adoration as he had had for her before, but also with a solemn awe at what she has become and what she has grown into. He welcomes her back into his life without hesitation.

But then there is a moment things shift so drastically that I paused the show and re-watched it half a dozen times. We all know it and love it. This face he gives Ahsoka. The Look.

What we see here is something we have never, EVER seen in Rex for 7 whole seasons. And it is my opinion that this is the first time Rex has been able to feel and express that he is attracted to Ahsoka. In other words, Rex has a sexual awakening.

Up until this point, Rex has been a sexless character. Nothing he does is flirtatious, sexy, or at all suggestive that he has those feelings inside him at all. Every sexual being has a moment where they are first animalistically drawn to another being. Characters who have already had this moment are easy to pick out. Obi wan. Anakin. Ventress. These characters have already experienced their sexual awakening. Ahsoka has too. Lux was her first object of attraction.

But Rex has never had this moment. Until this reaction.

I know some of you might be thinking “but Ahsoka gives a very similar look to Anakin, does that mean she is sexually attracted to HIM?” It’s a very good point. Ahsoka and Anakin share some cheeky playful looks during “Old Friends Not Forgotten”. We see many characters give similar looks to other characters, but does this mean it means the same thing as when Rex does it? The short answer is no.

When animators design a character, they establish the “range of emotion” for that character. You can easily see this when you look back at how many times you see Rex break from his stoic, captain’s face. He rarely laughs, smiles, or emotes in any way. This is why when we see him emote it is exciting to us as an audience. A character like Ahsoka or Anakin commonly show a wide variety of expressions. Ahsoka is much more likely to give a cheeky look than Rex is. So “the look” for Rex, means a lot more when he is doing than it does when another character does it, say Fives or even Obi-Wan.

Which means the writers are trying to tell us something about this moment. 

This moment has changed Rex’s and Ahsoka’s relationship. 

Now does this mean that they are going to go bang each other immediately? Does this mean the second they are alone after “Victory and Death” they start an intense, sexual relationship? Of course not. That’s not what this ship is about at this time. But the reason many of us ship it is because suddenly they don’t feel like brother and sister anymore. It isn’t entirely platonic. And the show does a good job to further emphasize this as they come closer and closer both emotionally, and physically during the finale.

Blocking is a huge factor in visual storytelling. During the finale, Rex and Ahsoka are blocked in a way that makes them as close as physically possible on the screen. This communicates to the audience that they are closer now than they have ever been. As Jedi and Clone Trooper. As friends, and as companions, their bond forged in the fires of war, struggling to find meaning in life as soldiers.

In contrast, look how Ahsoka and Anakin are blocked in their scenes. There is nearly always a gap between them, illustrating that they are distanced from each other emotionally. Rex is even visually inserted into the gap between them in several instances. Anakin and Ahsoka are growing apart, but she and Rex are growing closer.

We get to experience Rex and Ahsoka engaging in actions and conversations that we had rarely seen before. From casual banter, to moments of intense intimacy, to emotional peaks, Rex and Ahsoka interact more in these four episodes than in the previous six seasons. Part of this is because their maturity gap has closed. Ahsoka is finally Rex’s equal in experience and maturity. It is also in part because it is a unique dynamic. No Obi-wan. No Anakin. Rex and Ahsoka are equal leaders of the 332nd. There’s also the fact that they are put into life threatening situations and have no one else but each other.

But there is that “look” that is given at the beginning of all this that suggests something else, that as their bond undoubtedly becomes strong as beskar, there is an element of it that takes their relationship from the platonic to the romantic.

I feel every detail, moment, and piece of dialogue in the finale tells the story of this bond. 

Many instances of their strong emotional bond have been spread throughout the internet, with most ready to acknowledge that they have a connection unlike any other, one that may even be described as a “force” connection. These last four episodes are so exciting because we see two friends reunited, but then we get to watch as their relationship transforms.

Even disregarding their implied attraction to each other physically, they dive into each other and hold on tight. Ahsoka shares deep personal worries with Rex, and Rex and her are shown opening up to each other in ways they have never opened up before.

We were all floored and dumbfounded at scenes such as these that show these characters at their most vulnerable. But they decide to be vulnerable together. Is it because they are all that is left of their 501st family? It part, this is definitely true. But by being this vulnerable they transform their relationship into something very different from what they had before. It will never be the same again, and it will be near impossible to back out of the emotional intimacy that these two have participated in. Once you have formed that kind of an attachment with someone, there is no going back, and as is seen in rebels, these two maintain that strong connection even after years of being apart.

This goes beyond their sexual desires or needs. They’ve forged a bond that cannot be broken. They have shared minds, shared pain and agony that only the other can understand. They’ve been isolated from the world, and all they have left is each other.

And at the end of the series, when we have Rex and Ahsoka broken, their world flip upside down and everything they ever valued or cared about lies in ruins before them, the idea that they still have each other is that beautiful seed of hope Star Wars is so good at preserving. Those of us who believe that their relationship could be romantic want good things for Rex and Ahsoka. We want them to have that love and share it with each other. Maybe only for a few moments, but having known it would be better than both of them living and dying without having that experience. 

When we see the two in Rebels, for me it confirms that these two love each other deeply. But their lives can never be lived in a normal fashion. They cannot even be together as partners in life. The Empire has stolen this from them. The tragedy of this ship is that it can never be the way we want it to be. Rex will age and die long before Ahsoka is even halfway through her own life. They cannot live with one another. They cannot wake each morning with each other, at least not at the point we see them in rebels. 

But they continue to love each other. Even over distance, even knowing that mortality will claim them with only a fraction of the memories that they deserve with one another. 

So please, the next time you see some art or a fic, or a post like this, think of what I had to say. Rexsoka is about two adults, their lives destroyed at the hands of Sidious, but in defiance they still forge a bond that he could never break or take from them. And that to me is beautiful and something to celebrate.

Side note: I spent a ton of time making gifs but they never would work and so I had to use screenshots instead :(

EDIT: At the request of the OG poster of a few gifs, I have replaced them have also made some grammatical changes. 

[eternally-writing]

splish splash | myg

genre : fluff

rating : G

pairing: Yoongi x reader

theme: idol!au, established relationship! au

word count: 2k

warnings: none

synopsis: After a long day, you and Yoongi try to take a bath together

This was a request from @gloryofroses19​ that you can read here!

–♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡–

“You look dead, babe”

Yoongi was standing at your door, knocking on your door instead of pulling out his spare key since he was so tired. He looked a little bit like a zombie, except a very handsome one.

He knew that you would always have his favorite snacks on hand so he could always come to your place after practice to enjoy some tangerines and get some time away from the dorms (after all, after 7 hours of practice with the boys he did need a break from him), and to be honest, with how tired felt he didn’t even know how he managed to drive himself over to your place.

“Oof, i need to sit down babygirl, today was brutal and my muscles are going to give out on me if I try to take another step”

He plopped down with a grunt onto your couch, pulling a pillow into his chest. He immediately sank like a heavy rock in the ocean into the soft material of your couch.

Shaking your head at your boyfriend clearly having overworked himself, you walked over with a plate of oranges and a glass of cold water.

“I can’t give you the same rant about not overworking yourself every week Yoongi,” you said with a slightly frustrated tone. You continued on to explain why he needed to take care of himself - all with love though of course.

Taking one hand to rub it through his hair, you sat on the arm of the couch beside him.

He couldn’t help the light moan that escaped his lips at your hands caressing his scalp. It was a sharp contrast to how his muscles felt a mere couple of hours ago at the dance studio.

Lightly grabbing your hand, he tried to move it away.

“Baby you have to stop, or I’m - “

He stopped partway to let you a big yawn, stretching his legs simultaneously. You could practically feel him unravel under your touch, voicing his reactions to you.

“What was I saying again? I’m gonna, I’m gonna fall asleep babe,” murmured Yoongi with half closed eyelids.

“Just stay the night, you look way too exhausted to even move,” you cooed to him, taking in his exhausting figure beneath you.

Yoongi groaned, wishing that he could accept your offer, but he knew he really shouldn’t (especially if he wanted to get to practice at 8am tomorrow).

“Trust me babe, I would, but I need to shower so badly. You and I both know that I stink right now.���

You laughed and hugged him tightly for effect.

“That’s a non-issue Yoongi. I love you, even if you smell like…”

You took a dramatic whiff in to smell your boyfriend.

“Sweat and tteokbokki and…” Your face turned in confusion as you tried to decipher the last smell. Yoongi jumped in to finish your sentence.

“Taehyung’s new cologne”

You repeated it affirmatively with a slight grimace painting your face. “Taehyung’s new cologne.”

To his dismay, you began to drag your boyfriend off of your couch and towards your bathroom, because you were not about to let your freshly-washed sheets pick up Yoongi’s scent.

--♡♡–

It didn’t take an engineer to see that fitting both you and Yoongi into your bathtub was going to be no simple task.

Your studio apartment was the perfect size for you to live in before you started dating Yoongi. Over time, Yoongi started by having a toothbrush in your bathroom, then his clothes started to form a small pile in your bedroom, then you cleared out part of a drawer for him. Somehow, your apartment seemed to grow to accommodate the two of you together. Correction: all of your apartment seemed to grow to fit the two of you except for your bathtub.

Until Yoongi came into your life you believed showers were just about hygiene, a quick 5 minutes to hop in, scrub down your body, and hop out. Yoongi on the other hand, found that baths were the biggest luxury he missed during all of his trainee days. One time when he took a bath at your place you put in a tangerine scented bath bomb you bought him for Christmas, and he swore he saw heaven with how relaxed the bath made him.

Although throughout your relationship Yoongi had managed to convince you to try many new things (like drinking a cup of water before every meal or watching Brooklyn Nine Nine), he had yet to convince you to try the so-called wonders of baths. That was at least until now.

Compromise was basically Yoongi’s middle name, as he conceded to your pleas for him to sleep over with the condition that you take a bath with him. He mustered up his last bits of energy to throw some puppy dog eyes at you that you knew you couldn’t resist. And the smile that graced his face after you said yes confirmed to you that you definitely made the right decision.

That brought you to here. You and Yoongi were just staring at your tiny tiny tub, wondering how this was even going to work. Putting the knowledge from your one high school physics class to work, you realized that you would need to fill the tub with less water than usual.

As soon as the tub was filled, Yoongi was quick to shed his clothes and hop in, immediately moaning in response to how the water instantly began to relax his muscles. He took a couple seconds to enjoy the sensation before beckoning for you to join him.

Still apprehensive, you hoped that you could back out of your deal and tried to make him settle for you just sitting on the edge of the tub, promising to wash his hair (and in the words of your favorite TV character Charles Boyle, it was the most intimate thing you could do to a partner with your fingers).

However, Yoongi started to splash some water like a frustrated child, begging for you to join him with his open arms. The sight of your boyfriend eager to spend time with you was something that you couldn’t resist. You started to peel off your shorts and sweater and then took your favorite place - right in Yoongi’s arms. However, you didn’t reach that without any difficulties, bumping your arm on three different places before reaching your man.

You hit a slight snag as you realized that your knees were barely extended away from your chest, unable to even stretch out your legs. Half submerged in the water, you craned your head around to give Yoongi a look that said “I told you so, this isn’t going to work”.

Not taking no for an answer, Yoongi pulled you closer to him in his lap, placing you on his thighs to give you a couple extra inches of leg room. His hands also crawled up to your shoulders, started to lightly massage the knots that had accumulated over time. The relaxation that overcame you was overwhelming - your head came to rest on his shoulder, letting his magic fingers work their way over you.

“Mmm Yoongi, I thought this was supposed to help you relax? And even though this feels amazing, I want to help you relax.”

Yoongi didn’t stop his ministrations, and he whispered in your ear.

“You’re another part of me, Y/N. Seeing you relaxed makes me feel even more relaxed.”

You grinned at his sweet words and wanted to give him a big kiss, but that proved to be a difficult task as you felt your knee collide with the side of the porcelain tub with a bang.

Hearing you groan in pain, Yoongi immediately scooped you closer into his arms, bringing your knee up to be inspected by him. With his self-learned medical knowledge, he declared that the bump was nothing a little kiss couldn’t fix, and he began to pepper kisses all over your knee, getting distracted as his kisses also started drifting upwards on your thighs. The scenario seemed all too silly and domestic, and it made you both laugh harder than you should. You pulled his head away from your body, knowing that he was far too tired to get through anything but that he would get caught up in his ministrations.

After you both resumed your original positions, Yoongi swept a hand through his hair and pulled you closer to him. He leaned closer to whisper in your ear and you expected to hear him whisper sweet nothings to you - instead in Yoongi-fashion, he had instead blurted out -

“Should we put some bubbles in here?”

Instantly, you chuckled. Still not receiving an answer from you, Yoongi continued on.

“You keep telling me that you haven’t had a bath since you were little - and who doesn’t like bubbles?”

Yoongi had a great point, and your next question of “where are we even going to find bubble solution” was quickly answered by your boyfriend pointing to a gracious welcoming gift that had been collecting dust on a shelf in your bathroom.

--♡♡–

For most couples, a romantic bath probably meant that there would be candles and rose petals, but you and Yoongi didn’t need all that. Each others’ presence was all you’ve ever wanted and all you’ve ever needed (although the bubbles were a nice addition).

You felt Yoongi’s fingers tapping on you on the shoulder, gesturing for you to attempt to turn around to face him.

You were met with the sight of Yoongi piling bubbles onto his chin to create a faux beard. He was unable to stop his giggles from bubbling over, making the bubbles on his face fly off into the air.

“C’mon, give it a try Y/N”.

His hands were full of bubbles and he began layering them on top of your head, making something that one could only assume was a party hat created out of bubbles.

“That’s my pretty girl”

No matter how many times Yoongi said that to you, it still brought a blush onto your cheeks. You leaned in to give him a peck on the lips, only to grimace as you were met with the taste of soap in your mouth.

With more stolen kisses, some light shoulder massages, and a couple bumps and snags as you navigated your tiny tub, you and Yoongi managed to relax and unwind after a long, tiring day.

“I love you Y/N”

You smiled and let yourself relax further into his hold.

“I love you too babe, always”

“Enough to clean up all the water that we’ve spilled out of your bathtub by now?”

You playfully splashed your boyfriend, tickling his sides slightly to make him squirm before you settled back into his hold.

“Oh shush, that’s a later problem, just let me enjoy cuddling with you for now. The smell of Taehyung’s new cologne is finally starting to fade.”

Maybe baths weren’t so bad after all.

–♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡–

If you like what you read please make sure to interact/follow! Thank you for reading ♡ - Emily

[themaribatpit]

Jasonette July Day 14: Loss

Written by: The Maribat Pit  @jasonette-july-event Prompt: Loss Rated: T (Presumed Major Character Death) Based on the trailer for the upcoming Gotham Knights game: https://youtu.be/IhVf_3TeTQE (TW: flashing images towards the end of the trailer)

Jason is walking home on a rainy night in Gotham after a long day working with Roy.  He was hoping to quickly get back home to his girlfriend and relax for a few days. He felt his phone vibrate, he took it out from his pocket to see it was a call from Batman. The words “Incoming Transmission: Code Black” were written boldly across his screen. Jason had a bad feeling about this. He walked into a nearby alley and looked around to see if he was truly alone before taking this urgent call.

He was unsure whether to pick up the call or not, his relationship with Bruce had been strained ever since he was killed by the Joker and came back as the Red Hood. Even if they had reconciled, they still argued and disagreed with one another.  This was probably him asking if he was willing to go undercover again like he had done with Black Mask.  He continued to stare at the phone, thinking of all the possible reasons that Bruce may have wanted to call him. “What is Code Black?” He thought to himself as he answered the call.

His phone sparks to life with the image of Bruce, Jason immediately knew something was wrong. Bruce never showed his face in any Bat related communication. “If you’re watching this, I’m dead.” Jason could not believe what he was seeing, he barely registers the rest of the message. Thinking back to how he first met Batman, trying to steal the wheels off the Batmobile. To him, Batman was invincible, invisible and unstoppable. After all his training as Robin and even after his return as Red Hood, a small piece of him had felt that Batman could not be beaten. He had watched Batman face aliens from outer space and gods from another world. Knowing that Batman was well and truly gone felt...impossible.

He slowly trudges home, his vision blurs as he slowly makes it home on autopilot. He enters his apartment, not even taking his wet clothes or shoes off. Marinette hears him walk in, “Welcome home Jay, I made boeuf bourguignon.” Jason doesn’t even notice her, and in that moment she knew something wasn’t quite right. Normally Jason would joke about how it was a miracle nothing was burning, it could happen, given how clumsy Marinette was.  He slowly drags his feet to the living room and slumps on the sofa, his head in his hands. Marinette peeks her head around the corner, looking visibly concerned.  

Marinette slowly walked to the sofa and sat next to Jason, putting a hand on his thigh. “Jay?” she quietly asked.

Jason’s voice begins to crack “He’s gone, I can’t believe it, he's really gone.” He lifts his head up to look Marinette dead in the eye, “Mari, Bruce is gone.”

Marinette gasps, she had heard the news report but she didn’t think it was true.  She had assumed it was the start of an elaborate ruse, but the look in Jason’s eyes told her otherwise.  Marinette knew Jason and Bruce’s relationship was complicated, but he was visibly hurt and shocked by the news.  Jason wanted a lot of things, he never really wanted Bruce to die, not like this anyway. If that were the case he would have gone through with his plan of blowing up the Batmobile, all those years ago.  Marinette reached up to gently wipe a tear from his face, he held her hand close to his face before she could pull it away.  It was the first of many that would be shed at that moment.

For so many years, before and after he died, Jason wanted Bruce to understand him.  He seemed like a pointy-eared brick wall at times, he never thought there would come a day when it would fall.  Batman had almost seemed untouchable, even when Bane broke his back, he came back stronger than any of them.  Marinette gave a startled little squeak as he pulled her close to him, before wrapping her arms around him. He pulled away slightly but her face was still very close to his, he ran his thumb along her cheek as she leaned into his touch.  He savoured the warm softness beneath his fingertips.  His teary eyes looked into hers for a moment, before he leaned in close to kiss her.  At that moment, he needed to feel the warmth that radiated off of her.  He needed to hold her close to him, he needed to know that she was really there, and not just a cruel fleeting dream.  

Marinette was surprised, in the years that she had known him this wasn't a side of Jason that she had seen before.  There was a feeling of desperation in that kiss, one that only Marinette was privy to.  Whenever Jason kissed her in the past, sometimes it was passion, sometimes with a gentle softness, and other times because he took a certain delight in making her blush.  This time there was passion, but almost never with the desperation and anguish he felt at that very moment.  By contrast, Marinette was a lot more trusting, more forgiving, more optimistic.  It was something that Jason didn’t take lightly, especially considering the person he was by comparison.  With the Kwamis' help, she had seen him through his bouts of pit madness.  Nevertheless, when the kiss broke, she was breathless for a moment, but she didn't pull away.   She rested her forehead against his, brushing aside the occasional tear from his eyes.

For the rest of the night Jason continued to hold Marinette close to him, his chest heaved with sobs every so often. Even with his complicated relationship with Bruce, he was still the one who adopted, taught and cared for this street urchin of Gotham. As the two held each other, Jason’s phone began to ring, displaying Nightwing’s blue bird symbol on screen. Jason took out the phone and looked to see who was calling. He stared at the screen, unsure how to talk to Dick after the loss of Bruce. He looks back to Marinette, ”answer it” she told him with a gentle smile, he needs to be with his family now.

Jason took a deep breath and answered “Hello?”

He could hear Dick’s voice, unusually hoarse on the other end “Hey Little Wing, you saw the message didn’t you?”

Jason solemnly responded “Yeah. I got his message.”

“We need you Jason, just as Bruce said, Gotham needs its guardians. We’re all here at the Belfry. Babs, Tim, Steph, even Duke and Cass. Are you with us?” asked Dick.

Jason looks back to Marinette, who then nodded to him with a smile and mouthed “Go.”

He turns back to the phone, “I’ll be there in an hour, Ladybug can handle things here”.

As he ends the call and stands up from the sofa, Marinette puts a hand to his chest and lifts a finger, signaling to wait just a moment before running to the bedroom. She returns with two wrapped presents, “They were meant for your birthday next month, but...I think you need it now more than ever.”

She places the two boxes next to Jason, and asks him to open them up. Jason picks up the first box, slowly unwrapping to reveal new body armour. His eyes widen, he runs a hand across the large red bat symbol on its chest.

“Mr. Fox and I worked on this for you, he may be an excellent inventor but he lacks a tailor’s touch.” she explained. Taking out a cue card from the gift box, Marinette clears her throat and begins reading from it. “The tri-weave bodysuit consists of an outer and inner layer made from a titanium-dipped tri-weave fiber mesh.”  Marinette tried to read the words with some confidence, despite the fact that English was her second language. She wasn’t even sure if English speakers understood what these words meant. “Sandwiched in between is the MR-fluid based liquid armor system. The proprietary WayneTech Smart MR-fluid hardens in response to impacts, specifically designed to provide superior shock absorption.” As she read the cue card, Marinette thought working these materials into the design was challenging enough, never mind having to list out what they were for.  Still, not everyone had her magical super suit, so she never really thought about how a normal human would have to shield themselves.  Judging by the smile growing on Jason’s face, clearly she was reading some things right. “The liquid body armor layer is also more flexible than the ceramic or fiber-based armour, allowing for greater maneuverability.”  Marinette took a breath and gently placed the cue card back into the box, “I hope you understood those words, because I didn’t” she joked, and for the first time since he’d come home she saw Jason smile. “I also modelled it after your favourite hoodie for maximum comfort.” Saying the last two with emphasis as if it was the most important thing when it came to armour.

Jason chuckles, “This is perfect Pixie, thank you.” As he stands up to give her a hug, she stops him and gestures to the other gift. As he opens the second box he sees within a new Red Hood helmet. “Same materials as your suit. Light, breathable and comfortable.”

Jason picks up the new helmet and begins inspecting it from all angles. He is curious about the black embellishments around the vision slits of the helmet. “Hey Pixie, what's with the dark eye rings?” he asks, turning his head to face her.

She gives him a wink “Red Hood with a pinch of Ladybug.”

Jason places the helmet down and goes to the bedroom to change into his new armour.  Tikki zooms over and both of them give each other a firm nod. If Jason was putting his trust in Marinette to hold the fort here, there was no way she was going to let him down.

[ethereal-blossom]

Hi, I could ask for scenarios and headcanons for dazai, chuuya, kunikida, akutagawa when they go on missions and their s / o stays home with their child. where the toddler gets a high fever. s / o is very unsettled, bombarding with phones but they don't answer. s / o is a wife, thank you very much☺️😌

a/n: oh, a mix between angst and fluff! i love it ❤ i hope you don’t mind that i split the request in two 🙈 i changed my scenario limit to two, because they take longer to make than headcanons. i decided to make an ada part and a pm part. i hope you enjoy part one🦋 part two

🚨warning(s): slight angst

masterlist

dazai: 0.9k+ | kunikida: 0.8k+

dazai could feel his heart beating in his throat, but not for the reason you would expect from a man who was the target of fire shots. kunikida and him being surrounded by armed men wasn't dazai's biggest concern in the slightest. instead, they were obstacles.

dazai's phone rang again for the fifteenth time in the last few minutes. he could feel it vibrating in his pocket, yet your phone calls had never been this much out of reach before.

it was a rare thing for dazai to feel distress during missions, but this was the exception. the image of his sick baby girl haunted his vision and dazai lowered his head. he had observed how tired his daughter looked before leaving: there was no doubt in his mind that you were calling him about your angel.

nevertheless, dazai had no choice but to go on the emergency mission after the president himself had called him. before he went, dazai had asked you to call him if things escalated. the only thing dazai desired at this very moment was to go home to his wife and daughter.

the bullets flying around his head weren't allowing it though.

the mission continued for another halve hour. that were thirty minutes filled with worry. the phone calls and the messages had stopped for now. however, dazai couldn't figure out if it was something to be relieved about or not. it was one of those peculiar moments in which dazai couldn't predict what had happened, mainly because of the white panic that blinded his mind.

kunikida opened his mouth to speak to his partner, but he changed his mind quickly after seeing the look on dazai's face. "what's wrong, dazai?"

"y/n tried to contact me." it was the only thing dazai could say at the moment. his phone was stuck to his right ear and your panicked voice made his heart go numb. announcing that he would leave immediately, dazai rushed back home to you and your daughter.

now it was his time to call you. 

___ 

dazai stopped before your house. he allowed himself for a few seconds to control his breath and then entered your house as the calmness itself.

it was a relief you had picked up the phone when dazai tried to reach you. only you would have sensed the panicked tone in dazai's voice, which is why you had immediately ensured him that everything was okay.

dazai followed your voice that came from the bedroom of your little monkey. the girl spotted her father straight away and called out his name. her opened arms welcomed the tender figure of her dad's body.

a sigh of relieve left your lips when you saw how tight dazai hugged your daughter. everything was okay. you looked at dazai who was kneeling in front of his daughter. his facial expression radiated calmness, but you could tell something was off. "how are you feeling, little monkey?" dazai asked his daughter.

"i was feeling really sick! but mommy took care of me," she replied and then she pouted. "i'm really tired though."

the next few minutes dazai was asking questions about what happened: which symptoms she experienced, how she was feeling now, what you did to lighten up the symptoms- he tried to remember everything what mori had told him about the human body and its illnesses. relieve washed over your husband once he realized that everything was indeed fine. "mommy is going to get a glass of water for you, okay?" dazai looked at you from the corner of his eyes. you responded with a nod and left the room.

dazai kissed his daughters hairline and she giggled. however, his lips tingled. a fever indeed. dazai cupped his daughter's burning cheeks and caressed her skin with his thumb. he looked her in the eyes, her mother's eyes. and she was just as strong. "you're doing so well, monkey."

when the little girl drank the water you had brought to her, her eyes slowly closed, a peaceful look painted on her small face.

"i'm sorry for bombarding your phone. i knew you were in an emergency, but... i was really worried about our sweetheart."

"there's no need to apologize, love. you handled the situation wonderful. i couldn't have been more proud of the both of you."

dazai grabbed your hand and the both of you watched over the little girl that had stolen your hearts. the troubled restlessness finally washed away with the sound of your daughter's soft breathing. nevertheless, the instinct to protect his family still lingered through dazai's whole body. "i should have predicted this. i should have taken action earlier."

you tightened your grip on his hand. “don’t be too harsh on yourself, dazai. you handled this situation wonderful. i couldn’t have been more proud of you.” 

dazai looked at you with his head slightly tilt. he couldn't help but smile. you had used his own words against him. how cruel, how smart, how touching. he paid attention to your calming orbs that had kept him grounded for as long as he had known you. dazai's lips were on yours in an instant. his lips moved tender yet intense against yours. the way he loved you...

surprisingly, it was dazai himself who broke of the kiss. he rested his forehead against yours. there was only one thought running through his mind at that specific moment: he would always protect the two most important women in his life, whatever it takes. 

the sun was standing at the top of the sky when kunikida looked at his perfect schedule.. well, it was supposed to be perfect. surprisingly, it wasn't dazai who was the cause of this ruination. the mission was supposed to be simple yet it had taken three hours and 35 minutes instead for the planned one hour and three seconds. this was a disaster. kunikida tried to control his breathing, tried to convince himself he could fix this tragedy. he grabbed his pen and started to mumble while organizing his chaotic schedule.

however, he was soon interrupted by his partner. "what, dazai? we are two hours and 40 minutes behind and if you don't....... HOW DID YOU GET MY PHONE?" kunikida was ready to waggle his way towards dazai, to steal his phone back and to show exactly how punchable dazai's face looked. would he lose precious time? yes. but he couldn't let this slide.

"ow, kunikida. where's the trust in the most trusted detective from the agency? besides, you dropped this during the mission." dazai's clown behavior disappeared like snow in the sun when he continued. "y/n tried to contact you multiple times. i think it's serious."

dazai blinked for a moment when his hand was suddenly empty. kunikida had to remind himself to breath, to not let the worry get to him. he had to keep his head cool. then why was his heart beating so painfully in his chest?

kunikida was sure he yelled something at dazai- probably that his partner should have mentioned this sooner - but he didn't have the time to care about anything else than the reason of your phone calls. were you and your son okay?

he listened to your voicemail, but it wasn't able to calm him down. in contrast, it was like oil thrown on fire.

his son had a high fever. kunikida's voice sounded on edge when he said: "you have to work without me today, dazai. my family needs me."

____

kunikida tried to reach you, but it was no use. you had sounded so panicked over the phone- it made him run faster. your husband stormed into the house, immediately asking where you were.

"i’m here." your raw voice came from the living room. kunikida was met with two of the most important people in his life lying on the couch. The redness from your eyes and cheeks told him that you had been sleeping. did that mean-? 

kunikida moved over to you as fast as he could and knelt down next. his sight focused on the toddler in your arms. he was still peacefully asleep. kunikida put a hand on his son's head, then a kiss and felt the hotness radiating from the touch. suddenly, your husband couldn’t wait any longer and asked every single question that was on his mind. 

“it’s okay, doppo. the fever decreased after i had tried to contact you. i gave him some medicine, water and i checked in on him multiple times. why didn’t you pick up your phone though? that’s nothing like you."

the rope that had cut into kunikida’s lungs finally loosened up. he started to explain how he lost his phone while his schedule was getting slowly ruined. "and this time it isn’t dazai to blame?" you joked. 

"i have to process it, too.” your husband had, without realizing it, been stroking the arm of his son with his thumb. you couldn't tell if he did it to comfort his son or himself. nevertheless, kunikida said shortly after that he would bring your son to bed.

you agreed and took the time alone as an opportunity to calm down and progress what had happened today. a sigh left your lungs. this was peaceful.... okay, too peaceful. how long is doppo taking?

you walked over to your little bean's bedroom, deciding to check out where the men you loved the most were hanging out. your heart practically melted when you entered the room.

kunikida was lying next to the small boy. however, when you looked closely, you were met with wide open grey eyes. experience told you that the haunted look on your husband's face wasn't caused by only the high fever of his beloved son. "what is bothering you, doppo?"

"my ideals. you tried to contact me when you needed me and i wasn't here. what would have happened if the fever didn't decrease? what if it has escalated and i wasn't here to be there for you and our son?"

 you grabbed his hand and kissed the top of each of his fingers. red blushes appeared on kunikida's cheeks and his eyes were now widened for different reasons. "then i would have handled it, with or without you. i know you had a tough day, love. i don’t blame you for anything. you shouldn’t do, too. i love you and you are here. that’s all that matters, right?” 

you grinned. oh, that color of red on kunikida's cheeks was definitely a new and deeper type of red. his love for you was overwhelming, and he couldn't wait to show you how much.

[angelanika]

How Bizarre Pt2

<<<< Part 1                                    Part 3 >>>>  

Chapter warnings: cursing, sugar daddy/baby relationships, sexual themes

A couple hours after you left, Bakugou had finally woken up. He rolled his tired body over and his drowsy eyes peered at the bed-side clock,“tch. Already noon.” 

His red eyes looked sleepily around the luxurious hotel room, noting your absence. A teeny-tiny, itsy-bitsy, micro-minature part of him wished that you were still there.

 He pictured how your skin delectably contrasted the white bed sheets below him and how your pretty eyes gazed up into his own full of lust and desire. If only you had stayed a little longer...maybe he could’ve gotten another round in...

He groaned as he threw himself out of the bed and strolled towards the shower. The stress of the previous weeks were nothing some good drinks and hot sex couldn’t fix and as the water streamed down his toned body, he was already feeling more and more refreshed.

You, on the other hand, were as busy as a bee. 

After rushing home to clean yourself up and diving into a crowded train, you arrived at the Hara Estate with 2 minutes to spare.

You had only begun setting down your belongings in the small room near the massive kitchen when the lady of the house yoo-hooed out for you.

“Y/N!! Y/N!!”

You appeared in front of her.

“Oh great! Glad you’re here. I have so much for you to do today, everything has to be perfecttttt,” she sang while slapping a to-do list on the counter, “Hurry up and change dear then get to work. Ok?”

“ok.”

Her smile faded and she stared at you sternly.

“Yes Mrs.Hara,” you corrected.

Her matte pink smile returned as she gave the to-do list two light taps on the marble counter, “Well chop-chop.” 

Your blood boiled.

She turned on her pointed heels and she pranced away leaving you burning holes in the back of her dark, silky hair. 

Ma'am, you're grey roots are showing 🙄

Your job definitely didn’t start off like this. Hell, you weren’t even obligated to lift a finger but...shit happens...

......

You had met the witch's husband, Mr.Hara, at the daycare you used to work at. He wouldn't always be the one to drop his son, Prince, off but he made sure to pick him up in the evenings.

You worked at the tiny front desk, so you were always able to catch a glimpse of the visibly wealthy man when he came in.

Mr.Hara was a tall, slim Japanese. Fit and paired with shiny, black hair, always trimmed to perfection and silver streak in the front just for show. 

He worked somewhere behind the scenes in the Hero Commission...or Association...or something like that…. Let’s just say the man had impressive connections and money to spare!

He was clearly older than you, probably by a decade, but that didn't stop your eyes from roaming and your mind from wandering.

Saying that he hadn’t been eyeing you as well, would be a blatant lie on his part. 

One afternoon when he was signing the book after collecting Prince, he suddenly spoke up, "How much longer do you plan on working here?"

"S'cuse me?" You said, taken aback by the sudden and almost intrusive question.

He slipped his sleek, black and gold pen back into his suit pocket before closing the check-out book and handing it back to you, "Well I know that working here can't pay you that well and I'm sure you don't plan on doing this the rest of your life," he explained.

"My career plans are none of your concern Mr.Hara."

He chuckled at this and you cracked a small smile but you both knew that he was right.

You would think that working at a daycare for the rich and privileged would pay you just as elegantly, but boy were you wrong! It was minimum wage with a few toasted breadcrumbs and as much as you tried to deny it, you would soon need to find a new job.

"I'll tell you what," Mr. Hara began, " You come work for me at my place and I'll pay you ten times as much as you get here."

Your ears perked up. 

"Work for you?"

"Yeah. Trust me. It's not bad at all,” he stated while leaning over the counter and lowering his silky smooth voice, “Just come to my place a few days a week, cook, clean...entertain me."

Instant butterflies!

Your eyes went wide, “Entertain you?! I’m sorry Mr. Hara but I cannot sleep with you!!”      

   ...at least take me out for dinner first😏

He quickly straightened back up and waved his hands dismissively, “No No not like that. It just gets a little lonely in the house. That’s all...”

You stared at him suspiciously.

“I’ll tell you what,” he declared, “Here’s my personal number, we can discuss it more over the phone. You don’t even have to do the housework but just give me a call ok?”

“Oh..ok..thank you Mr. Hara,” you mumbled softly as you accepted the little note..

After fixing his dark sunglasses back in place and calling for Prince, who had been completely enchanted by whatever game he was playing on his tablet, he made his way to the exit, leading Prince through first.

 Then he suddenly stopped midway and turned back to you with a smirk...

“Oh and please, call me Kenji.”

Before you could even reply, he had disappeared through the heavy glass doors and into his BMW.

D-Did you just cop yourself a sugar baby position???

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Two days later, you gave him a call. 

He answered all of your questions effortlessly as if he had done this a thousand times and flattered you with the absurd amount he was willing to pay you for just keeping him company.

“...and what about sex?” you whispered timidly into the phone, ensuring that even the ghosts in your empty apartment couldn’t hear you.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he laughed. “So Y/N? What do you say?”

Exactly one week after that, you’re striding through the mansion gates.

Seeing that your new “job” had extremely flexible working hours, you decided against quitting at the daycare. The extra income was now seemingly unnecessary but the more the merrier right?

 It also grants you an easy answer to the inevitable question of “So what do you do for a living?” rather than having to explain your relationship with Mr.Hara or trying to avoid the question totally. 

You straightened out your burgundy blouse and picked at the little fluffs on your jeans, before entering the house.

He had told you to just let yourself in when you got there and that’s exactly what you did. 

When you finally strolled into the house, your jaw immediately dropped. 

Girls! Girls! Girls!

Girls of all different shapes, sizes and colours were littered around the living room, relaxing in the pool and snacking in the kitchen.

“Lonely my ass,” you thought. 

Your presence had quickly caught the attention of a particular blonde who sprinted towards you at lightning speed. Her piercing green eyes and strikingly long legs had even you mesmerized. 

You were definitely in the presence of a Victoria Secret model.

“OHHH you must be Y/N, Daddy told us to look out for you!!”

Daddy? 

“He’s in his office. Come! Come!” 

After giving the door a few light taps, you heard the low timbre of Mr.Hara’s voice beckoning you to come in.

“Ah y/n. I see you’ve met Lada.” he chirps. 

The girl in question whose accent you have picked up to be Russian smiles down at you brightly. 

As Mr.Hara dismisses Lada, he calls out to another girl who suddenly appears from under the desk.

You nearly had heart failure.

She strides out with Lada, patting down her purple lingerie.

You physically had to bend over to pick up your jaw from the floor.

Mr.Hara smoothly turns to you in his chair, totally unfazed. 

“Glad you made it Y/N, welcome to your new job.”

* * * *

This chapter gives a lot of background but sit tight, the drama is comingggg 🤪

TAGLIST

@jazzylove @blkirishima 

[nightshade-minho]

-Free Rent- ‘Melted Ice-Cream’-

Hyunsung + fem!reader, ft. Felix

Warnings: nipple play, food play, anal play, anal penetration, creampie, unprotected sex, face-fucking, etc.

Moving in with the boys was a lot more fun than you had thought. Sure, the day you moved in, Minho and Chan chose to welcome you in the most unconventional way possible...but it had been two days since Chan spent the night with you after that big dinner, and nothing sexual had happened since then.

They were quite kind, and not the reckless hooligans that Mina had made them out to be. The dinner they’d made to celebrate your arrival was probably the most delicious thing you’d ever tasted. They were all very courteous to you, and for the next two days they helped you settle in.

You were currently sitting on the sofa watching a movie along with Felix, who you quickly realized was a bit of a cuddler.

He had his arm around you, pressing your body close to his as he watched. It was a stark contrast to the last time he had his arms around you, holding on to your waist as you rode his cock.

To your knowledge, Changbin and Minho had gone to the grocery store for supplies, while Seungmin and Jeongin had already gone to sleep in their room. Hyunjin and Jisung were also in the living room, but they weren’t paying any attention to the movie; one was sprawled on the floor with his phone while the other was focusing all his concentration on a plate of leftover cheesecake.

You couldn’t deny that originally, you had expected them to not really warm up to you in this way, thinking that some of them would view you as nothing more than a sex object. Your fears were invalid, as they were all quite eager to accommodate you, and you were starting to feel quite comfortable with each and every one of them.

Suddenly you felt Felix’s hand which was around your shoulder sneak down to your breast, softly groping it. You looked up to see him staring at you, biting his lip. “Is this okay?” He whispered. You nodded, shuddering as he let his thumb ghost over your nipple. You looked at Hyunjin and Jisung, but both of their eyes were still trained on the phone and cake, respectively.

Felix softly rubbed your bud through the thin tank top, leaning in lightning quick to suck wetly on your nipple, moving to your other nipple and taking that into his mouth as well. He leaned away, his eyes roving over how his saliva had made the white fabric transparent, your nipples now clearly visible. He went back to drawing circles on your buds with his thumb, his gaze drifting back to the television for a while, chuckling at the way your breathing was laboured.

He leaned in close to your ear. “You have perfect tits, y/n. Maybe you’ll let me fuck them? Let’s go to my room.”

You looked at Jisung. “What about him?” You said, referring to Felix’s roommate. He shook his head. “Trust me, Jisung prefers savouring his cheesecake at a really slow pace.”

You were about to agree when you heard Chan’s voice. Felix’s hand quickly dropped from your boob as the four of you turned around to see a smiling Chan.

“Hi guys. Uh, I’d like to talk to y/n, if that’s fine?”

They all nodded, even Felix, who reluctantly let go of you. You got up and walked over to Chan who grabbed your hand and led you aside to the kitchen.

“Hey, just wanted to tell you that if you do want your room painted, we can get someone to do that. Of course you wouldn’t be able to sleep there for a few nights...it’s alright, Minho and I will sleep on the sofa, and you can take our room.”

You giggled nervously. “Oh, no...please don’t go that trouble. I’ll sleep on the sofa. It’s really more comfortable than my old bed, so-“

Chan cut you off. “No, you can sleep in any of our rooms. The beds can fit three anyway. I was just afraid that you would feel uncomfortable...you’re not sleeping on the sofa.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but Chan spoke before you could say anything. “So...there’s something else. A girl called Mina keeps calling here, but you’re never around when she does. Does the name ring a bell...?”

Mina. Fuck. You hadn’t spoken to her since she told you about this whole thing. You felt guilt settle itself in your heart, promising yourself that you would call her tomorrow, since you knew she never kept her phone with her after 8 PM. Some weird “mindfulness” thing. You sighed. It had only been about three days, but you missed Mina and her inclination for yoga and smoothies that she claimed were ‘healthy’...(when you knew they consisted of just oranges, peaches and a shit ton of sugar.)

“Yeah, she’s my best friend.”

Chan widened his eyes. “Ah, okay then. Anyway, I’ll let you get back to what you were doing. Wouldn’t wanna let Felix down, right?” You gasped, as he winked at you. So he did see what was happening.

He left the kitchen, presumably to go back to his room. It was about 10 PM. You weren’t feeling very sleepy, but you knew it was time to go to bed, since you needed to wake up early tomorrow. Even though it was a Saturday, you knew that Mina had to go to an environmental club meeting in the afternoon, so you had to meet her before then.

You went back to the living room, searching the room for Felix only to see him absent. You frowned, going to sit down on the sofa. “Guys, where’s Felix?”

Hyunjin scoffed. “Oh, so now we exist?”

You raised your eyebrows. “Wait, what?”

Jisung rolled his eyes, setting down his empty plate on the table and coming over to sit beside you, leaning forward, his face hovering in front of yours. “You think we didn’t notice? We’re not blind.” He gestured to the two wet spots on your shirt, and you mentally smacked yourself for forgetting. So that’s how Chan came to know. You felt a blush spread across your cheeks, embarrassed.

Hyunjin finally tore his eyes away from his phone, getting up off the floor to sit on your other side, his hand firmly gripping your thigh.

“Felix went to his room to sleep right after you left with Chan.”

Ah. So that’s why he left. He probably thought that Chan was taking you away to spend the night with him. You shook your head. If only he’d waited a few more minutes...

You jolted back to reality when Hyunjin’s fingers now crept up your thigh, pressing against your underwear. His graceful fingers pressed your clit, as Jisung pulled the sleeve of your tank top down, exposing your boob. His finger came up to touch your nipple, which was still slightly wet from what Felix had done earlier.

“You really seemed to enjoy what Felix was doing to your nipples...” He pinched one, a squeal ripping from you when he did so. “Felix loves your boobs. It’s the first observation he made about you.” Jisung leaned in to lick a stripe over your nipple, looking over at Hyunjin.

“Not gonna join?”

“I’m more of an ass guy myself.”

Jisung grinned. “So am I.”

Jisung paused for a minute, seemingly deep in thought, before his eyes widened and he stood up.

“I have an idea.”

He left the room and you looked at Hyunjin, confused. He shrugged, pulling you onto his lap. He tugged at the hem of your top, pulling it off of you. He pulled down your shorts next, and put his hands on your ass cheeks. He stretched them apart as he looked up at you, his eyes filled with ardor.

“God, y/n, you drive me crazy. I’ve been waiting to have my way with you again since that day we all fucked you. Truth be told, I wish Jisung wasn’t a part of this right now, but we’ll get our alone time later. After all, you’re not leaving any time soon, right?”

You nodded, and he spoke again. “There’s just something about you. I think it’s the way your innocence co-exists with your sexiness...we all noticed it. It was why we chose you almost immediately. A lot of candidates came by, you know? None of them had that je ne sais quoi...the spark.”

He put his finger in his mouth and wet it. You moaned, because as he was speaking he had pulled your thong to the side, his saliva-covered finger tracing your rim.

Jisung came back into the room just then, holding a bottle of lube and...a tub of ice-cream?

You looked on, confused, as he set down the things on the table. Just then Hyunjin’s finger slipped into your anus and you gasped. He moved it in and out shallowly.

Jisung suddenly came over and lifted you off of Hyunjin, carrying you and placing you on the armchair instead. You heard Hyunjin let out an indignant sound, which he ignored. Jisung smirked up at you as he lifted the lid off the tub of ice cream. There was only a little bit left, enough for about a scoop or so, and it was all melted. Jisung used a spoon to take some and drip it all over your stomach, some of it pooling in your belly button. Though it was melted, it was still cold, and the sensation was making you dizzy. He drizzled some over your boobs as well. Throwing the spoon on the floor, he leaned in to lick the cream off you slowly.

He was taking his time, his tongue laving over your skin. Through half-open eyes you saw Hyunjin come over, leaning in to lick the ice-cream off your boobs as Jisung paid attention to your belly button, his tongue swirling around it.

Your wetness was gushing out of you by now, and you wanted to press your thighs together...but Jisung kept them spread apart. His fingers were hovering near your center...the attention you were being given was nice, but you were getting impatient.

Finally, you let out a load moan. “Just fuck me already!” The two boys stopped, looking at you. That was a mistake. There was anger flashing across their eyes now.

Jisung picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder and taking you to Hyunjin’s room, which was close to the kitchen. Changbin still hadn’t come back from the grocery store, so it was currently empty. When he reached, he threw you down on the bed with a lot more force than necessary, and you whimpered as he crawled over you. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Hyunjin close the door behind him.

“Fucking whore. Can’t you just take what we’re giving you without any complaints?”

You felt the bed dip as Hyunjin moved onto it, settling above you. From your position, you could only see his face upside-down...but the frown on his face was still clear.

You closed your eyes. Jisung lifted your leg up over his shoulder as he pulled your thong off. His fingers went to your ass.

He looked up at Hyunjin. “You got to have her ass last time, so it’s my turn now. I bet she’s tight as hell...”

He squirted some lube onto his fingers, and applied it to your anus, two of his fingers slipping in at once, causing you to throw your head back and open your mouth in a loud moan. Just as you opened your mouth, you felt someone shove their cock in between your lips, sliding in. You choked, tears slipping down as your eyes shot open. Hyunjin pulled you up slightly so he could fuck your throat easier.

Meanwhile Jisung pulled his fingers out, pulling down his sweatpants enough so his cock could come out. He stroked it a few times before aligning it with your anus.

“You said you wanted to get fucked, slut? Here you go.”

His cock rammed into your ass and you cried out, gagging around Hyunjin’s length.

The pain quickly gave way to pleasure as the two of them worked up a rhythm. Hyunjin let his hands drift over your sticky skin, pinching from time to time. The slight, sudden bursts of pain made you clench around Jisung each time, causing him to groan loudly.

Jisung pulled out, followed by Hyunjin. He flipped you around so you were on your stomach, and Hyunjin moved up so that you could suck his cock more comfortably. You opened your mouth to take him in just as you felt Jisung slam back into you, his length moving in and out of you rapidly.

His grip on your hips was so tight, that you were sure bruises would form. You looked up at Hyunjin who gazed at you with a serious look on his face, absent-mindedly rubbing circles on your shoulder as he face-fucked you.

Jisung’s cock twitched in you, and you knew he was getting close. His hands reached down to rub on your clit furiously, and you hit your high quickly. He came almost right after, pulling out and watching his cum leak down your ass to your pussy.

Hyunjin’s thrusts were getting sloppy too. He pulled out, and told you to sit up. You did. He groaned as he stroked his cock, cumming all over your boobs. Hyunjin sighed, leaning back and pressing his face to his pillow, falling asleep quickly.

You turned around to face Jisung, who bit his lip as he surveyed you, covered with white fluid that could either be cum or ice-cream. He leaned forward all of a sudden and scooped you up into his arms, getting up and kicking the door open with his feet.

Baffled, you stared up at him.

He saw your expression and laughed. “Oh look at you, y/n. Your nipples are literally covered with cum...so wet and erect. I think I’d be a pretty shitty friend if I didn’t take you to Felix.”

You blushed as you remembered Felix’s intentions. Jisung smiled down at you as he stepped out of Hyunjin’s room to take you to his...only to bump into someone.

The two of you looked up to see Changbin, his hands holding grocery bags.

He took one look at you and glared.

“Now, just where do you think you’re going without me? Cause whatever this is, I want to be a part of it.”

[katsuflossy]

Whatever It Takes

Pairing: Dabi x reader

WC: 2.3k

TW: Detailed parental abuse, detailed description of a mental episode, obscenities, mention of arranged marriage

A/n: ngl all of this is severely overdue but the recent chapter made my creative juices flow so here we are! Please enjoy💖

Taglist: @melanimed @mixfi @mythiccheroacademia @myhoodacademia @mypimpademia @ecao @strawberry-ice @plutropica @photosbyameil @lunabby010 @iiminibattlehero​ @sleepysheepkiara​

The air was crisp, dark, and cold, what one had expected for the autumn night. Only a few patrons roamed the streets in the twilight. Those that wander under the streetlight had their eyes crossed, mind buzzed, and hand full of one final drink due to being kicked out of the bars. The ladies of the kingdom stayed within the comfort of their homes. They laid around the compassion of their loves or their families, only knowing of the horrors of the outside through gossip. The most recent urban legend paced through the streets with a scowl fixed on his face. Azure eyes glowed danger through the darkness, never revealing the coat-clad scarred body until passing under the street lights. The drunks waddled out of Dabi’s way, feeling the rolls of anger off of him from a twenty-meter radius. For once, the fire quirk wielder ignored the low bastards, never smirking as they cowered in fear nor sparking their shoes afire, laughing as they tried to put them out. No, his mind was occupied, fist clenching and unclenching in the pocket of his coat. Thoughts of past and future overwrote each other in his brain, creating a void of black in his mind. His own psyche started to turn on him again, knowing what’s about to happen would risk many lives. However, Dabi cared only about two lives-- his own and yours.

Like God gave him a sign, he passed the alleyway of a sweet memory. Running away from authority was his regular schedule since the age of 11 but he was close to getting caught one day. Caught but cunning, Dabi held you, hostage, by the neck. The little blue flame from his finger close to searing the flesh of your cheek as he backed into the dark alleyway, away from the entire police force out front. He dragged you through numerous yards before you begged him to stop, hands on your knees as you gulped for air. Glowing eyes stared at the ruby necklace that swang from your neck, almost daring him to try to take it. The second his fingertips could graze the jewel you slapped him away, grip tight on the chain and a fire in your eyes.

“You could take anything from me—shit even the pads of my shoes if you want—but I don’t want you to take this. Here, I’m sure the ring will cost more.” You glided the ring off your hand before offering it to Dabi.

Confused couldn’t even describe Dabi’s thoughts at that moment. Are you really offering a lowlife scum precious jewels? With a smile on your face?

“Are you demented?” The tilt of your lips turned down into a scowl. A haughty hmph passed your nostrils as you looked away from the criminal.

“You were stealing from Greggley’s pawn shop. The same bastard that swindles townsfolk out of their money and rats out people to the police for a living. I’d pay to see that fear on his face again when you ran off with me and his pile of stolen goods. So here’s my payment.” Dabi cautiously took the sapphire ring from your palm. The situation was ironic, he seemed more fearful than you. Cyan eyes watched as the dust on your outfit disappeared by the pats and sweeps of your hands before jumping up. You stayed rocking from the heels of your feet to the soles, eyes waiting expectantly on the chilled man to say something. Instead, his eyes bored straight into yours, deadpanned as he occasionally averted his gaze from the entrance of the deep alley, then back to you. The shouts of police guards had left from long ago; the sounds of their frantic pace went far off into the distance. Yet, you remained in this cramped space with him.

It unnerved him to no end.

“Well, your highness, your mutts went the other way to look for you. You can scurry away now,” He questioned his words. Why is he letting you go so easily? You were a perfect hostage. Just by your yelp, he could have your father in his palms, an important piece to the league’s ultimate plan. The smile on your face didn’t ease his confusion at all. His eyes burned with irritation, upset by your cheerful demeanor.

“Oi, are you fucking braindead? I said scram,” Your face dropped, forming a pout before pulling into a smile again. Dabi felt his eye twitch as you began to chuckle. His hand igniting blue flames as he stepped towards you. You put your hands up into the chilly air.

“Woah now, I’m just saying I could be of more use, Mr. Criminal.” The heat dissipated from his hand. His eyes looked as cold as marbles but within his head, he roamed over the possibilities, how and why should he trust you. Dabi was never a gambler, always a mouse wary of traps but today, he felt lucky. The once fiery hand laid out before you, staples glinting in the dim lighting.

“Dabi,” his eyes roamed over your face, noticing the crinkles at the corner of your eyes never softening, the gleam in your eyes shining more than before. You were actually happy.

“You already know my last name but that’s unimportant right now. The name’s (Y/n).”

The memory cleared away like smoke, reminding Dabi of his mission now. His hand clenched around nothing, his fist tight to relieve the searing anger in his chest. He imagined burning Shigaraki over and over, enveloping in the heat of his wrath as punishment for putting him on this mission.

Red beady eyes looked at Dabi in nonchalance, ignoring the smoke rising from his scarred hand.

“We built our whole organization on this end goal. We are one step closer to annihilating these ‘heroes’ and you’re rejecting this offer? Over some little noble mole?” the insult adding more fuel to Dabi’s rage and fire. His flames barely reached Tomura before being engulfed into another dimension thanks to Kurogiri’s interference. Unrelenting glares fixed at each other. Even then Shigaraki continued.

“I’m not saying it again. Either you do your job and save your blue-blood or they die by our hands.”

His eye pulsed; an ache coiled around his nape to his temple. His own anger throbbed in his head and blindsided his mind. He could add Shigaraki to his body count but your life, to him, was paramount. He withdrew his fire, recollecting himself before shoving his hands into his pockets. He surveyed the room, eyes scanning all the league in disdain; the others avoided his intense gaze. The gravel crunched under his heavy boots as he stomped out of the hideout.

Shigaraki’s threats echoed through Dabi’s head, anger already swelling at the thought of his red eyes as Dabi reached the edge of your house. The whirls of wind carried his coat in their stream, pulling the fabric all about. The walls of dark stone contrasted the warm yellow lights of your not-so-humble but welcoming abode. Dabi only knew the layout of your room but whenever he’s in there, there were hardly any lights from behind your bedroom door, just the occasional shuffling of the maids.

He halted his thoughts, pressing his foot against a jutted brick before hopping on to another. His movements were smooth and familiar as if he had perfected this route. He sat on the window’s stony ledge, fingers rapting against its pane, staring into the night as he waited on you to open the window panel.

Meanwhile, you were balled up in a corner, fingernails creating welts on your skin. Still, the stinging pain didn’t distract you from the taste of iron in your mouth, the phantom feeling of blunt rings on your cheek. Your silent cries shook you to your core, sharp inhales forced your weeping to stop, only for them to return again. All crying ceased once you heard knocking on your window, the same three raps then two softer taps only known to two. A familiar rhythm, one that closely relates to the song you made the criminal danced to during one night at a pub. The precious memory was unable to soothe the paranoia of your mind right now. A hitch in your breath paused all noises in your little quarter. If you stopped breathing, maybe he’d think no one was home. You ultimately stopped breathing only for harsher rapping to strike against your window.

On shaky legs, you stood up, swiping off any trails of tears and snot from your face. The cold air greeting you swung open the window for Dabi, who immediately hopped into the warm comb. He barely skimmed over your appearance before asking.

“What the fuck happened to you?” His hand came up to your swollen cheek; an obvious insignia marked the skin. You didn’t flinch away, instead, you wet your lips, pressing more into his palm. His hands were chilly from the cold outside but the contact warmed your entire body.

“I can’t do it anymore, Dabi.” A broken whisper escaped your lungs. Tears bled through your closed eyes, wetting Dabi’s thumb as he swiped a lone one away. He stood still, billions of thoughts jumbling in his mind as you bawled into his chest. Should he do this? On this night? Your well-being and the league’s plan fought for his attention. Every thought of his mission drowned by the sight of the insignia on your face.

“(Y/n), what the fuck did he do to you?” His shirt crumpled within your hands as you contemplated telling him the truth.

Nobody expected your father, an honorary Knight-Captain, to abuse his only child. It took one loose-lipped servant to say that you were seeing a commoner man in the kingdom for him to wrap his hands around your throat. You remember your body flailing, the coldness of your cheeks as tears fell from your bulging eyes. He dropped you by your mother’s cold command. As you gulped for any type of air she told you to stand. Her patience grew thin quickly as she ripped you off of the ground, your legs nearly collapsing from the force. A shroud of care she put herself under, letting her adorned knuckles skim across your cheekbones as she talked about your fate. You're being shipped off to marry the highest knight family, the Todorokis. Enjirou, commander of the Kingsguard, sought after you for his son, Natsuo Todoroki, for months. Your inappropriate actions caused your arranged marriage to arrive quicker. Her veil lifted, and in an instant, she whipped her hand across your face, the blow smacking your staggering body to the side. Their eyes entertained at your cry. She fixed her rings as she declared your fate. House arrest until the Todorokis picked up their new toy. They left you on the ground, weeping until Dabi arrived.

Stammers and hiccups escaped your lips instead of comprehensible words. His shirt crumpled under the intensity of your grip. In that time, Dabi had gathered all the information needed. The look in his eyes was unreadable as he loosened your constriction on his clothes, fingers interlacing in between your shaky digits. A shadow cast over his face as he talked to you.

“(Y/n),” your eyes dull and lost, you were wrapped up in your own severed psyche. A finger on your chin, he guided you to meet his eyes.

“Let me fix this,” It wasn’t a duel, but warfare that unfolded in his headspace as he asked, begged for your permission. You barely felt yourself nod before seeing the flame reignited in Dabi’s eyes. The smile on his face grew like a wildfire, nearly meeting the staples under his eyes. He left your numb body with a soft peck and a willful promise before walking, for the first time, out your bedroom door. Muted footsteps sounded miles away even though he left the door wide open. When did you end up on the ground, scraped knees meeting the plush of your rug, though you did not feel it? The warmth of the room dissipated from the air, goosebumps rising along your skin. Your body could only focus on one sense at a time, tuning into the sounds around you. Though muffled, you could hear the guttural screaming coming from rooms away. The cries formed into pleas before morphing back into incomprehensibility. Whether your body was protecting you from further trauma or not, your audible sense shut off only to look at the smeared blood all over your rug. Your ears never picked up on your outcry, pushing your diaphragm, but Dabi’s did.

He sprinted back to your room immediately, leaving his fires to completely consume your parents and lick at the foundations of the walls. His black coat draped over your body before he lifted you into his arms. The hungry fire now satiated, he left the same way he entered but with now, with you within his arms.

He knows what he did wrong, rubbing salt into your traumatic wounds, but he had a mission to do. He held your trembling body closer to his lithe frame. The league finally made their first step to instigating chaos but that did not matter right now. Dashing through the alleyways, he took a look into your blank eyes, cast away into another realm. The sounds of the Knights fighting against your burning house faded as he ran. He rested his forehead against yours, eyes squeezing shut as he made another promise to you.

“No one will ever tear us apart. I don’t care if this whole place burns to the ground. Just know you are the only one that matters. It’ll just be me and you at the end. Whatever it takes to get there.”

[mc-critical]

Hello, I just found your blog and I like it very much, it’s very interesting to read!!!. My question is : what is your opinion on Ahmed and Kosem’s relationship? Do you think he truly loves her? What do you think about him seeing other women? And what do you think about his relationship with these women (Mahfiruz, Katerina, Gulbahar and Yasemin).

Thank you for liking my stuff!

I think that, just like Süleiman, Ahmet loves Kösem in his own way. It's not as toxic or problematic or often questionable writing-wise as Süleiman's love for Hürrem, but it still has both its ups and downs that make it interesting to explore.

Ahmet and Kösem is perhaps the love story where the writers made the most effort to mask the possible worse aspects of. It could even be considered actually romantic at points, with their amazing first scenes in the gardens and the amazing chemistry of Ekin Koç and Anastasia Tsilimpou, the beginning sense of wonder and "mystery" it started out with.... when she first met him, Anastasia didn't know he was the sultan and put all her trust in him - a certainly good first impression. Ahmet himself is also very far from Süleiman's direct endeavors and tests of loyalty, he tries his best to be respectful in his own way, despite that he fails to do that a bunch of times. That's why it's easy to miss the darker aspects of the relationship at first and it could be perceived as probably the only thing in the franchise that is remotely close to a "fairytale" of sorts.

However, when the curtains start to fall slowly, but surely, we come to realize that while, say, Hürrem learns to want what Süleiman wants, to be fully loyal to him and to cave to his demands just like he often caves to her own, Ahmet and Kösem as characters have entirely different values and needs throughout their whole relationship. The fact that Ahmet wanted Anastasia because of a picture, without him having ever met her, is incredibly telling: he has created an ideal of her in his own head from the start and he wants to consistently maintain it. When he's with her, it's as if he's living his own dream, his own perfect world that has place only for him and that young girl. (that's why the garden is so symbolic: Ahmet calls it a place of solitude, only for himself almost immediately after the audience is introduced to it; also that line from him: "The world is on one side, Kösem - on the other." - quoting by memory again, but the meaning is the same) Their world views gained from their past and present environments begin to clash from the moment she finds out he's a Sultan - she wants to desperately go back to her family, both because all of them are still alive and her free spirit that cannot bear to live in this golden cage. Ahmet doesn't let her go also because he lacks the understanding of this desire: he has grown in the strict Ottoman system and having people like Anastasia stay in the harem forever is something he finds perfectly natural; for him it's unthinkable to stand against it. But despite of that "minor offense", Ahmet's idea of Anastasia's "purity" and "perfection" was working for awhile, with her seeming to meet his expectations and slowly warm up to him. But the real truth is way stronger than your own made-up lies. Anastasia's pleas to let her go only get stronger until they reach their climax with her attempt to escape. And you know what? If it weren't for her contrived, yet convenient excuse to come back to him, he would've lost her. Helplessly, in a blink of an eye, he would've lost her, due to what she sees as sheer ignorance from his part. And when she gains her own bit of agency later in the season and becomes Kösem, when she develops and realizes the actual stakes of the game, beginning to play it herself due to survival by default and the will for revenge, Ahmet's "perfect picture" breaks apart and that apparently hurt him so much, he stayed mad at her for quite some time. This wasn't the person he knew and loved anymore, this was an entirely new, reborn woman. He didn't seem to love and respect her for the virtues she actually possessed, but for those that he had imagined her to always have in his head. That is another, more "subtle" level of toxicity than with Hürrem and Süleiman, but it's still toxicity, that's why this relationship is far from healthy and the "beautiful, but quirky" dynamic it sets the impression of.

Kösem's view of Ahmet is very interesting and complex, writing-wise. I actually don't think she grew to love him as much. The place she forcibly got in made her feel very limited by him mostly, since he was the reason she was here in the first place and he was calling the shots in terms of her future (whether she would visit her family or not?). What made her become a bit affectionate wasn't fully him himself, but rather the oh-so-prominent theme of adaption in the harem. She wanted to escape so desperately, but there were so many happenings and situations during the time she was in the harem that just demanded for her to get used to everything. So when Iskender gave her the chance to escape, she as become used to the harem's environment so much, she felt unsure of herself outside of it. Her return was out of necessity rather than love and even her standing up to the people when Ahmet was sick was done out of necessity, too (like I elaborated in another ask about Kösem). I'm not saying that she didn't feel any affection whatsoever, but the affection she felt for him was easy to let go of (E25: "Today I didn't marry only Sultan Ahmet, I married the country!"), because I don't think Ahmet did his best efforts to understand her and I don't think Kösem felt completely comfortable around him, all that contrasted with Kemankeş in S02, who according to her, understands her better than anyone ever could.

Ahmet loves Kösem, because even after his perfect picture with her was broken and his anger and denial and refusal to accept it passed, he did try to make things better. What I loved most about his dynamic with Kösem, is his open honesty with her that continued till the end. There have been scenes where they seemed like true companions, especially their beginning one in E21 with all the kids gathered around them. I loved that despite of his mistakes, he did try to set things right. There was this sudden protectiveness that activated in him when Kösem told him the truth about the death of his father and why she acted the way she did and that could mean she now became something of a "cinnamon roll he just protect" and that is certainly a flawed mindset to have in many aspects, but that showed he could actually care for her beyond his idealistic perspective of her.

Am I okay with Ahmet having other women? Honestly, I'm glad that MCK lowered the concubine arcs to a minimum and with the way they did it, it doesn't offend me as much. I would even love some of them to be more developed for a change, because they did turn out to be solely drama tools, thanks to their lesser episodes and MCK's different themes as a whole, that basically did their purpose and left, instead of stretch out and outstay their welcome and that is just the other extreme in a bad disguise.

I won't talk about the relationship he had with his other women as much, because they just aren't fleshed out. I would've liked to see more of Ahmet and Mahfiruze: I believe he was way more decent with her than say, Süleiman was with Mahidevran, and their scenes weren't half bad. Too bad that would've demanded Mahfiruze herself to be fleshed out more as a character and the writers to give her more of a place in the narrative. Katerina was present only for an episode (or was it two episodes?) and we don't have as much conclusions to drive here. We only have his mild infatuation with her and... that's it? We have no idea what Katerina actually felt or how their dynamic would play out in the long run. We can only speculate. Gülbahar, by contrast, also had the least screentime of all his women who have comparatively minimal screentime, but her exploration in S02 helps us gain a better idea of how it went between them. I have the impression that she was the least favourite concubine of Ahmet's, ever. She did succeed to get pregnant and have a child, but it probably was a one and done thing and she didn't seem to get any other grasp of manly affection since then. Which is why, along with them taking away Bayezid from her by exiling her, she was so focused on scheming for one particular goal and this became what defined her. But then again, that is still a speculation in my part. Now, with Yasemin we have much more on-screen chemistry and interaction: that relationship felt very similar with what Süleiman thought of Firuze - infatuation, massive infatuation, but still not love, because just like Firuze, Yasemin also gave him poison and we don't know how much the poison affected his psyche, along with the sickness it brought upon him. These relationships have the opposite problem MC's concubine arcs had: these women were all unfavored or favored very temporarily in the span of an episode or two, which made them very stale and lacking in material.

Lastly, while MCK in its entirety, isn't very big on love stories, Kösem and Ahmet's relationship still had an evolution throughout S01, even if that evolution was more "condensed" than the others similar to it. It still remains the most fleshed out love story in the show, along with Kösem and Kemankeş's, and it was a very important part of the story that helped shape much of the narrative that succeeds it.

[luvlyrv]

Naughty | pt. 1 | Irene x F!Reader | Mafia!AU

Summary: Two crime bosses entangled in a deadly and tension filled rivalry start to find themselves entangled in a different kind of relationship.

Not without going through a lot of death, pain, fighting and teasing first of course.

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: I hope you’re as excited about this as I am. I hope to get feedback!

Date: 1/9/21

Series Masterlist

Part 1: Cat and Mouse

You listen to the murmur of busybodies and your booming footsteps as you walk around the now not-so-abandoned warehouse your family resided in. You watched as your soldiers gambled amongst each other while sharing glares and smiles at the same time. You watched as people loaded in and out new shipments. With a sigh, the tall man next to you took a long step forward, turning and blocking your path.

"Y/N, are you even listening to me?" Taehyung asked, his eyes furrowed at the sight of you spacing out.

"Yeah, sure. Jesus, Taehyung give me some space. I need some time to think." You respond with a raspy voice.

You stand there as Taehyung continues towering over you, thinking about his next move. His eyes soften a bit as he sighs again.

"Alright, how about I drive you back to your place and you take some time to think about our next move?"

You give him a small and barely noticeable nod. He takes your hand to lead you out of the warehouse and down the streets, into a discreet area perfect for a discreet car, and begins to drive you home.

You stare out the window while listening to Taehyung's soft humming. The street lights zooming by as you begun to find yourself sinking into your thoughts. It was strange, really. A mafia family is a family that is filled with trust and family-like bonds, yet also filled with treachery and distrust. As much as you'd like to trust everyone who worked for you, to truly do so would be silly.

Here he was though, Taehyung, your childhood friend taking the time to drive you home. You knew that he was your weak spot. He could be the death of you. He could betray you at any moment and climb from his underboss rank to take over yours. You trusted him anyways. It's tiring, really, to always be looking behind your back. Hell, if trusting him with such a high position was a mistake, you'd be okay with it.

God knows how tired you are. Having Taehyung be your underboss, as risky as it was, was a welcomed relief to your shoulders. As much as he jokes and slacks off with you, he gets his job done. You would congratulate him on a job well done, but you didn't need his ego to be any bigger.

The sudden stillness of the scenery pulls you out of your thoughts. You realize you're finally at your mansion. Taehyung steps out of the car and opens the door for you. He stretches out his hand for you to take it, you thank him and allow him to escort you instead your brilliantly glowing house that was isolated from everyone else.

"You can stay in the guest bedroom if you're tired."

"Are you sure, Y/N?"

"Taehyung, you know I could never use up all those rooms at once."

You're both inside the living room of your mansion now. Your underboss goes a separate direction from you, instinctually going to the guestroom he often uses, as you go upstairs and into your bathroom. You turn on the lights and slowly make your way to your mirror.

The bright lights that illuminate your bathroom stands in stark contrast to the dark look on your face. You examine yourself, seeing how no matter how much light shined in your eyes they couldn't help but seem dull and lifeless. Your button-up was now partially unbuttoned. It was wrinkled and half-tucked. Worst of all there were blotches of an all too familiar red liquid all over it.

You run your hands through your hair. You'd be lying if you said you didn't look like shit. You reeked of death. You also reeked of sin. You can't help but feel your lips tug into a small smirk. Damn, you've lived a life steeping in sin, arguably you're one of the most scummy people out there, yet here you are, on the verge of a breakdown.

You've faced death how many times now? You've flirted with him so much he could give you a booty call if he wanted. You've seen death so much you can remember his smell, his aura, and the aftermath he leaves behind. So why was this time so different?

Maybe it's because every other time you've faced death it was expected. This time, it wasn't, because you aren't one for mistakes. This was the first time you've fucked up in a world where, arguably, you cannot afford to. Was this the price you paid? A failed deal and several dead members?

You don't want to continue thinking about the sight anymore, let alone what you did to the poor attackers afterwards. You turn on the water in your shower, allowing steam to begin filling up the room. You breathe in the warm air and step inside.

Perhaps here in the shower you could wash away the blood, the pain, the regrets. Maybe the water could purify your body and your soul. You slowly wash yourself as you find yourself entering a different train of thought.

Irene.

You clench up your first.

Anger brewed up inside you as you couldn't help but to think about the bloodshed from earlier, knowing it was all from Irene. Not even just Irene, but that punk-ass Joseph. God, how dare he even consider it?

Joseph wasn't a made man, he was just an associate, but a long-time one at that. He knew your power, there would be no reason to turn against you except for one.

He thought Irene was more powerful than you. She offered him more money than you did, more protection than you did.

First things first, you had to make Joseph pay for messing with your family. You had to make him pay for being the direct cause of the deaths you watched today. Then afterwards you had to go for her. The one who's been ruining your plans since day one.

Being a female boss was not easy. It's hard to prove your strength when you're constantly dismissed, when every mistake and failure is put on a spotlight and everyone perceives you as weak. Despite all of that though, you quickly rose through the ranks and became notorious. Young, inspired, tactful, and ruthless was what you were.

Rising through the ranks in a different family though, was the infamous Irene. Young, inspired, tactful, and ruthless was what she was.

So tonight the unofficial rivalry between you and Irene would become official. You'd declare war. You would take the top spot in the criminal world and snuff out Irene's hopes and dreams. You would be the best.

You finish up showering and adorn yourself in more comfortable attire to rest in. You go downstairs to the guest room Taehyung was staying in and knocked on the door. Immediately, the door opened and Taehyung's face was in front of yours.

"Yes?"

You look over his shoulder to see the lamp turned on, he had been overviewing the month's financial records.

"We need to gut through our associates immediately. Interrogate them and see which ones were close with Joseph or had possible contact with other mob members outside our family. If they have, just kill them."

Taehyung just raises a brow, but understands. "Joseph was the one who leaked the info wasn't he? He's the reason why..."

"Yeah."

"They had a lot of potential." Taehyung nods while thinking, "I can contact the capos about that right now." He begins to walk to the bedside table and reaches for his phone.

"After that though, we need to find the whereabouts of Irene."

Taehyung stops for a bit.

"You want to go after her? Already?"

"We've built up our forces. We should do it now before she pulls more bullshit like this and we take more damage."

"Are you sure you're in the right state of mind?"

You step into the room, pushing against Taehyung as he hits the bed and sits there, a stunned look on his face.

"Don't forget that I'm your fucking boss, Taehyung. You listen to me, and what I'm saying right now is that we need to find Irene and everything she owns. Now."

Taehyung just looks down, a quiet breath leaving his lungs.

"Yes, boss."

You leave the room feeling a bit bad, but you needed to get things done quick and you couldn't afford going soft on Taehyung just because he was your friend. Your feet make a soft thud as you go up the stairs and enter your bedroom. You open a drawer and pull out your most prized possession.

The gift your father left you, a beautiful shining silver pistol with a rose engraving on the handle. You smile as you feel the familiar and comfortable weight in your hand.

"I can't wait to use this on you."

You and Irene have just entered a dangerous game of cat and mouse.

[imaginaryari]

Welcome to the Show

Part One

The prisoner looks up as her least favorite cop comes into the interrogation room. Officer Warren has awards for rounding up the enhanced, people like Silver. He walks and talks like a man the people respect and fear. Talks to the enhanced like they’re close on first name bases and revels in the fact that he put them in their cells. What she would give to lay one finger on him. That’s all she needs. Unfortunately, her hands are gloved and bound because officer Warren also knows that. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure officer.” She asks.

“How would you like to get out here?”

It’s a trap. Silver knows this. The enhanced don’t get second chances especially not from officer Warren. 

 “Wasn’t I supposed to rot in here? Just as you said?” Silver asks.

Officer Warren gives her a sick grin. “I thought you would be interested in parole but if you aren’t...there’s plenty of you in here. “

The promise of seeing the outside world again would sway anyone.

“How can I trust you?”

Officer Warren beckons one of the guards. “Remove her cuffs.”

“Sir?”

“Now, please.” Warren orders.

Silver immediately rubs her wrists when the cuffs click open. The relief is almost overwhelming. She quickly reminds herself not to do anything stupid, no matter how satisfying it would be to knock Warren’s lights out.

-

“There’s a group of enhanced kids going around and robbing people. Messing with their heads. You’re fond of doing that so I thought this would be the perfect way to end your sentence.” Warren had said as he escorted her out.

Silver squints. Nothing about that story adds up. Robbing civilians while common isn’t a team effort especially if you can mess with minds and memory. A group would actually draw more attention and a tight knit one wouldn’t take the risk of losing a member to officials. 

Unless your Silver’s ex. Hm. Things are starting to make sense. 

“You’ve tried to catch them before.” Silver states. 

Warren doesn’t even look ashamed admitting his failure. “Physical powers are one thing. Mental ones are harder. But from my experience you can catch ‘em with a little trust.” He begins to walk away, leaving Silver at the gates. “You have three weeks.”

—

It’s no fancy hotel, barely a motel, but it’s a place and it’s furnished. Officer Warren had said it was hers for as long as it took her to finish her task. Silver won’t complain, before she was arrested, she was constantly couch surfing. Never out staying her welcome and never spending too long on the streets. She had made friends this way but contacting them was out of the question. Getting caught means getting blacklisted. A means of protecting themselves. Well, Silver had been thrown under the bus. Semantics. She won’t see them again and hopefully they’re doing okay. 

She shakes her head, never mind that. She has a job to do and extraordinarily little to go on. 

The neighborhood is different. She didn’t expect it to be quite the same after lock-up but the changes are more than jarring. New buildings going up, less of the spots her old friends used to hang. Silver is so sure the neighborhood has been purged of the enhanced until she decides to hit up one of the cafés. She stares at it; upset she can’t remember what it used to be and then enters reading the weirdly named drinks on the menu.

“Are you new around here?” another patron asks.

“Not exactly,” Silver says with a shrug, eyeing the stranger. He’s handsome even if he looks like he should have taken a sip of his drink before speaking. The bags under his eyes scream exhaustion but he still sounds awake. And happy about it. “It’s just a while since I’ve been round here.”

“Ah, try the mint hot chocolate. It’s a crowd favorite.”

“Is that what you’re having?”

He chuckles. “No…this is way too caffeinated for the masses.”

“Is the inevitable crash worth it?” She asks.

“Always.” He says as Silver is called next to order. “See you around.” The stranger says exiting. She thinks about the encounter for hours afterwards. The enhanced were still around even if they were muted.

—

She finds what she’s looking for the next day, right before the sun sets. It’s a large tent set up in a nearby park. Big enough to draw attention but lacking the actual necessities to pass as a real circus. No animal trailers, no confection stands. To anyone paying attention there’s no possible way it could have been set up so quickly. Definitely the work of the enhanced. 

Civilians flock to the tent with the promise of entertainment. Silver by-passes the line and taps a potential viewer on their shoulder. “You don’t really want to see this show, right? I can take that ticket off you.” The man blinks and then hands over his ticket. Silver quickly takes it and makes her way to her seat.

-

The spotlight lowers, illuminating what has to be the ringleader. He’s barely dressed for the occasion. Top hat donned but instead of a blaring red jacket, a black T-shirt with a tuxedo print and black jeans contrasting nicely with white sneakers. 

“Hello everyone. Welcome to your wildest dreams. I’ll be your guide. Whenever you need me you can shout More!” Silver snorts at the corny introduction but still applauds with the crowd. It takes a moment but she recognizes him. The man from the café with the over caffeinated drink. Interesting. So far he’s just the host, maybe the leader of this whole operation, but Silver can’t place an ability just yet.

“Please give a round of applause to our first act, Mirage, master of illusion.”

Silver is willing to bet he’s the one responsible for the tent. His set isn’t too extravagant; he just has smoke and card tricks. It’s what he does with them that counts. Shifting the smoke to look like a bird that soars over the crowd. It lands ever so gently on the empty seat in front of one of the viewers. The spotlight shifts to them, a young boy, and he offers a nervous smile, not prepared for the attention. The guest looks to Mirage who gives a cocky smile. “Blow it away.” He instructs through his mic. With a shrug he does. The smoke dissipates to reveal a real bird. A stark white dove. The young boy reaches for it face lit up in wonder, but it takes off landing right on Mirages shoulder. He pets it to prove its real and the dove seems to love it. However, it then dissipates into smoke after Mirage blows on it. That confirms it for Silver, the dude simply makes illusions.

“I need a volunteer for my next trick.” Mirage says.

He and More look around at the audience and More locks eyes with Silver. There’s a connection, a shock of understanding, and something else she can’t quite place before he says, “You, cutie with the hood. Would you like to help Mirage?”

Silver nods unable to break eye contact.

“Don’t be nervous, it’s just a simple card trick.” Mirage says, a deck of cards pulled from his pockets. Silver keeps her head down and her hood on as she walks into the ring. She wasn’t supposed to draw attention. More finally backs away giving Mirage the stage.

It is a simple card trick, with a lot of flourish. Silver selects a card, memorizes it, puts it back in the deck. Mirage is skilled making the cards seem to dance, shuffling and tossing them even pulling some from behind Silver. Sleight of hand can be learned, however,

“Is this your card?”

“It sure looks like it!” Silver says, and the audience applauds. Her choice in words don’t go unnoticed by Mirage. He smiles, like he just learned a juicy secret and gestures for Silver to return to her seat.

More passes her on his way back to the stage and gives her a similar smile to Mirage’s. She can’t help but feel she shouldn’t have done that.

“Our next act goes by Charlie. He doesn’t say much but he’s loads of fun!”

Silver immediately understands how the next act earned his name. Charlie dances out, encompassing Chaplin’s energy. He dons a similar top hat to More, and shirt except his is white instead. More comments on this with a laugh. “Clearly one of us has to change!” As corny as Silver finds More, she can’t say she’s not amused. Charlie looks More up and down, and then gets into a stance. He’s posed like a batter on home base and leans back and forth on his toes. He swings and More ducks, his top hat flying across the ring as if a real bat had hit it. The trick ears them impressed gasps and amused giggles from the audience. From Silver it earns a disbelieving stare. She’s never seen an enhanced like Charlie yet.

Charlie continues, his set like any traditional mime. Tripping over objects that aren’t there, pushing invisible walls, overexaggerating his facial expressions. Except Silver thinks, knows, he isn’t. There is a wall the audience can’t see. Silver can’t prove it, and wouldn’t even know where to begin explaining Charlie to officer Warren.

“Give it up for Charlie everyone!” More says shaking Silver from her thoughts. Charlie leaves the stage with the same comedic swagger and a wave.

“Now our next act is unfortunately our last. But we always go out with a bang! Please welcome to the ring, Star!”

With the snap of More’s fingers the lights go out. Another snap and they’re back, along with a woman sitting on a trapeze. She’s beyond beautiful, it could be the lighting, or the slight shimmer she has, but she’s captivating all the same. Her hair is pulled into two puffs and her smile dazzles the audience. Silver notes that there is no apparent netting beneath her, that should be concerning.

The music starts, a haunting melody punctuated by a bass that Silver feels in her chest. Star is flying above the audience on her trapeze. She hangs by her legs and lets her arms hang. If Silver focuses, she can see what looks like dust, her charisma spills off of her, entrancing the audience. She makes another mental note, three out of four isn’t bad. Maybe she wrong about him being enhanced. He could just be the fall guy if this all goes to shit. Authorities like Warren wouldn’t keep a powerless civilian. It’s smart. The doubt lingers. She knows what she felt.

Silver almost misses the end. Stars trapeze returns to the ring and she waves before letting go and falling to the ground. The audience gasps bracing for an impact that never comes. Star vanishes in a puff of smoke that settles all over the ring. The applause is stuttered out, the crowd is impressed and worried.

When the smoke clears the applause picks back up as all the performers are safe, taking their bows.

“Thank you all for coming!” More says. The lights go out. When they come back on the group is gone. Well, that’s one way to end things.

-

“Like the show?” A voice comes up from behind Silver. She’s just as dazzling up close and silver can see how she captivates the audience. The charisma wisps around her like smoke. 

“Sure did. Wasn’t expecting to be part of it though.”

“Yeah, More can be a bit impulsive,” Star says apologetically. She steps closer to whisper. “But his guess was right! You are like us.” 

“All of you? Special?”

“Yup!”

“What gave me away?”

“You didn’t immediately fall for my charm.”

“...really?”

“That and More caught you using your gift to get a ticket.”

“Also caught her struggling to order at the café,” More says rounding on them. “We should stop meeting like this.”

[oumakokichi]

Welcome back!!! I’m not sure if you’re taking any requests regarding analyses/meta, but if you’re looking for any ideas/when you have the time, do you mind doing a character analysis on Shuichi Saihara? I understand that he’s the main character but there is a lack of analyses about him. Although there are few, most explore his role as a protagonist/relationships with the others rather than digging deep into his character/personality. I just feel like there is more to him.

Hi anon, thank you so much! I’d be happy to write a character analysis for Saihara. I’m pretty sure I wrote some pieces specifically about his character back in the day, but those are all pretty old by now, and there’s definitely so much to talk about with his character.

Obviously discussing Saihara in-depth will cover spoilers for the entire game, so be careful when reading!

It’s interesting that you bring up the fact that Saihara tends to lack more character analyses, because I feel like this is kind of the result of a few different factors. First of all, there’s the fact that he was never originally advertised as the game’s protagonist. I know that the bait-and-switch with Kaede left many people conflicted; even years later, I see a lot of people saying that while they like Saihara a lot, they would’ve preferred for Kaede to live, or that they still don’t know quite how to feel about his role as a protagonist as a result.

Combine that with the fact that Saihara is simply so different in his role in the game than either Naegi or Hinata were, and I think this leaves a lot of people either uninterested in analyzing him as an individual character or unclear of where to start. Ndrv3’s themes as a whole are such a drastic departure from the Hope’s Peak arc of the first two games that Saihara himself sometimes tends to get overlooked, despite the fact that I firmly believe no one would have worked better as the protagonist of the game precisely because of these very different themes.

This itself is an interesting proposal, because at the same time, I also believe that ndrv3’s cast had the biggest potential for every single character to be the “protagonist” of their own narrative. Not only is this just straight-up alluded to with the reveal that Kiibo was actually the audience proxy, and therefore the “protagonist” through which most of the audience were experiencing the killing game in chapter 6, but we even get brief playable moments with both Maki and Himiko, further driving home the narrative that these characters all had the potential to be the main character. You could even argue that the abundance of ahoges in the ndrv3 cast is a tongue-in-cheek joke about how many people must have had “protagonist syndrome” when auditioning for the show.

But having a cast full of potential main characters still doesn’t negate the fact that Saihara was simply the best choice possible for the protagonist of ndrv3 specifically. I don’t believe we would’ve had nearly the same experience without viewing most of the events through the lens of his inner narration and character growth, and that his specific role in the story as the detective was the perfect way to encapsulate the game’s themes of truth and lies.

Let’s begin by discussing Saihara’s actual personality: he’s timid, riddled with anxiety, and incredibly prone to doubting himself and his own abilities. These traits are at the core of his arc of character development throughout the story, as he constantly struggles with his own feelings of inadequacy and lack of self-worth despite being the most vital contributor to everyone’s survival in the class trials.

Even before he’s revealed to be the true protagonist of the game, these traits are incredibly easy to see from an outside lens. By playing as Kaede, however briefly, we nonetheless get a good look at what Saihara is like even in chapter 1; his lack of self-esteem and debilitating issues with anxiety and doubt are, if anything, even more noticeable when put into such stark contrast with Kaede’s optimism, self-confidence, and attempts to bolster the group into working together and believing in one another.

In fact, it’s through Kaede that we first get a glimpse of Saihara’s backstory, and slowly come to understand that his timidity and anxiety are largely shaped by his past trauma. Saihara feels personally responsible for ruining a man’s life after accidentally uncovering the truth of the man’s crimes, then later learning that he was attempting to get revenge on the person who murdered his entire family. The knowledge that he not only ruined this man’s attempts at revenge, but that this person actively hates him with a passion, has left Saihara emotionally scarred and deeply afraid of even maintaining eye contact with others.

As simple as this little bit of backstory is, I really love it in all of its presentation, because even in chapter 1, it begins to paint a much clearer picture of what Saihara is like. His inability to say no to people and attempts to please everyone begin to make a lot more sense knowing that he is incredibly afraid of being hated or blamed by other people. His reluctance to come into his own as a detective or acknowledge his obvious talent makes perfect sense knowing that he can never fully “bring justice” to a number of crimes, and that his job is by definition one that sometimes makes other people miserable by shedding a light on the truth—even when, sometimes, it might be better to leave the truth covered up.

This established backstory also immediately sets Saihara apart from previous protagonists like Naegi and Hinata, by first shaping him into a separate character who we get to know in chapter 1, and only later re-introducing him as the actual protagonist of the game. This isn’t to say that Naegi and Hinata don’t have established character flaws, or that we don’t know anything about their life prior to the killing game. But these two are very clearly set up to be more of the “everyman” protagonist than Saihara ever was: characters who the reader can insert themselves into by some degree, and whose primary traits tend to revolve around feeling “average” or “mundane” in a way that your typical reader will usually relate to much more quickly.

This makes sense for the Hope’s Peak arc shared by both dr1 and sdr2. These games in particular are centered around the narrative of a “talent-driven society” where only the most talented, elite in their field are rewarded with entry into the “best school in the country”—a narrative that is no doubt supposed to be commentary on Japan’s extremely competitive academic system and society in real life.

With Naegi, we see perhaps the best example of a truly average, normal person thrust into a group of these whacky elites. We trust Naegi almost instantly as a protagonist, specifically because his lack of any particular superpower-like talent makes him more relatable to the reader. And his contributions to the trials and eventual friendships with the other students are meaningful precisely because they prove that you don’t need these incredible talents or make outstanding contributions to society in order to be a fundamentally good person who helps others and forges real, genuine bonds with people.

Hinata’s narrative takes this idea of averageness among “the elite” and takes it a step further in terms of narrative complexity: not only does Hinata lack any sort of talent or trait that would make him stand out, but specifically because of this, he desperately craves a talent of his own. Hinata is incredibly easy for readers to relate to as someone who, in a competitive society where talent is everything, feels useless and meaningless without an elite-level talent of his own. This struggle with identity and self-worth in a talent-driven society is something that most readers will also have experienced on some level, and so makes Hinata instantly relatable and likable for most people.

Which takes us back to Saihara—again, I want to stress how different the setup for his backstory and even his personality are from our previous two protagonists. Saihara isn’t meant to be a self-insert for the reader, or instantly identified with the same way Naegi and Hinata were.

Even other bits and pieces of his backstory and home life, which we learn from his FTEs with Kaede in chapter 1, as well as portions of their salmon mode together, show how incredibly eccentric Saihara is compared to the other two. Saihara doesn’t come from what one might call a “typical home life.” He’s estranged from his wealthy, celebrity parents, and lives with his uncle, who is also a detective. His FTEs reveal that he’s spent his time wrestling alligators and, to put it nicely, being a huge weirdo for most of his life. He’s not our “everyman protagonist” by any means; he’s yet another whacky Danganronpa character who happened to be thrust into the protagonist spotlight through his role as a detective.

In short, Saihara is not what most people would expect from a protagonist in any story, let alone a DR game. He’s certainly not the “everyman,” between his established backstory and somewhat eccentric home life. And he doesn’t have the usual set of traits most people would expect from a protagonist, either. Unlike Naegi and Kaede, who are by and large optimistic, cooperative, and somewhat confident in themselves, or Hinata, who is assertive and forward-thinking, Saihara is… extremely pessimistic, anxious, and lacks any confidence in himself whatsoever.

And yet, in spite of all this, I think many people can and do relate to Saihara. I know I certainly do. Having a character who explicitly struggles with issues like anxiety and depression, not only as the result of the killing game itself (which would understandably fuck anyone’s mental health up irreparably), but even before entering the game, is something I absolutely love about ndrv3. Saihara is hardly the only character to struggle with these issues within the DR franchise, or hell, even just within ndrv3 itself, but it’s hard to ignore how textually canon his depression is when he spends multiple scenes in chapter 5 lying in bed and thinking, “there’s no reason to live, there’s no reason to live” over and over again.

Saihara’s specific set of character traits may set him apart from the “average” reader, but for people who struggle themselves with mental health and self-worth, I think his character hits close to home in a very different way. Over and over again, throughout the narrative, Saihara is called “weak”—by the people around him and even by himself. This “weakness” is a fundamental part of his character that simply wasn’t there with Naegi or Hinata; while the two of them were certainly considered “average” in one way or another, they were never described as “weak” or “lacking what it takes to survive” the way Saihara consistently is.

And it’s true, on some level, that Saihara is what most people might consider “weak.” At the very least, he’s dependent: quick to latch on to anyone who shows him even the slightest sign of affirmation or support, reluctant to admit to his own talent or take credit for his own accomplishments, and unsure of whether he can actually meet other people’s expectations without some kind of helping hand or support.

We see him immediately grow attached first to Kaede, then later to Momota, constantly seeking out a larger, more charismatic personality to hide behind. He’s so unsure of himself that he would rather let other people who he sees as “more likable” or “more crucial” to the group get all the attention and the spotlight; we see this lampshaded somewhat in chapter 4, when everyone nonetheless begins to single him out as the main reason they’re still alive, and he’s clearly baffled and uncertain as to how to reply to the praise and recognition.

Even what little we see of his pregame self from his audition video fits within this framework. Despite a lot of fan portrayals of pregame Saihara (often called “Inchara” or “Kagehara” in a lot of Japanese fanworks) as someone undeniably “evil” or “irredeemable” for actively wanting to participate in a killing game… in the end, all we really know about him is that he is desperate to die. He talks about wanting to kill people, yes, but the emphasis is placed on how much thought and effort he put into his own execution. Even before entering the killing game at all, we can clearly see that Saihara went in with the specific intention of dying.

He wants to play a detective if at all possible, but it’s clear that he’s desperate, nearly feverish, at the idea of “being a part of the world of Danganronpa” at all, in any capacity. This obsession itself feels like a form of unhealthy attachment, and is a clear sign that he (and most of the participants, if we’re reading between the lines) is so damaged and downright suicidal that he views getting 15 minutes of fame on his favorite TV show as the absolute best way to go out. In a word, he’s still “weak,” long before becoming the fictional character version of “Shuuichi Saihara,” and it’s this weakness that Tsumugi herself says she wanted to encapsulate in the show, by making him “weaker than anyone else.”

It’s this “weakness” that I honestly love best about Saihara’s entire character. Because while a large part of his character arc is certainly about becoming stronger and more confident in himself, it’s also a fact that his “weakness” never explicitly goes away. His depression isn’t just magically cured by the end of the story, and he doesn’t wake up one day deciding that his struggle with suicidal thoughts or feelings of worthlessness are over. If anything, chapter 6 ends with a huge subversion of this “magically cured” trope in most fiction, by having Saihara embrace his own weakness as something that actually helps him arrive at a third option when presented with the seemingly black-or-white choice of “hope vs. despair.”

Saihara is, as he admits himself, “weak.” He’s unable to choose the forward-facing optimism that “hope” represents in the killing game—moreso if that “hope” only contributes to the cycle of the killing game itself, enticing people into wanting to see more and more of it. But he doesn’t pick “despair” either, exactly. His inability to choose between this forced dilemma is specifically because he realizes how sick and cruel it really is, and empathizes all the more deeply with the suffering he and his classmates went through. It’s this “weakness” of his that allows him to really put into words how much pain they all went through, and how their pain matters, regardless of whether they’re fictional or not.

It’s an incredible moment in the game, and probably the point at which he became my favorite protagonist in the DR franchise, as well as one of my favorite characters in the series overall. Saihara’s character arc, unlike Naegi and Hinata, was never about “moving forward” or “choosing hope.” He says himself that he’s not the kind of person who can simply make a choice like that. Rather, his arc is about toeing the grey line between “truth” and “lies.”

As we mentioned earlier, Saihara is a detective. In any mystery novel, a detective’s role is to seek out the truth and expose it, no matter how tragic or upsetting the outcome might be. So it’s interesting, then, that by the end of the game, Saihara ultimately comes to understand and even value the concept of “lies.” For someone who knows exactly how painful the truth can be, and who is unable to simply live life optimistically in spite of that truth, the recognition of “gentle lies” told for the sake of helping someone cope, of finding meaning in an otherwise meaningless or cruel life, is incredibly important.

Unlike the Hope’s Peak arc, which sort of placed “hope vs. despair” as some very black-or-white battle with a clear winner (even when some aspects of the series, like dr3, also sort of suggest the idea that it’s an ongoing cycle that keeps repeating itself), there is no real battle or winner between the concept of “truth and lies.” In the end, both are equally important. Saihara both embraces his role as a detective and acknowledges the power that the truth has on people, while simultaneously acknowledging that lies (and therefore fiction) also has power and can be used to influence people and even inspire the world.

This character development is just absolutely fantastic to see, after watching Saihara struggle with so much pain and grief over the course of the game. Seeing a character actually acknowledge the importance of “lies” and “fiction” precisely because of how important of a motivator it can be to depressed, broken people is incredibly satisfying, and not something we often get in most stories. The fact that Saihara is so undeniably “weak,” that he isn’t the type of character you would usually expect to live to the end given how suicidal and deeply traumatized he is, makes his survival at the very end all the more of an uplifting message.

You don’t need to be “cured” to find a reason to live. You don’t have to magically wake up with the most positive, forward-facing outlook in life. You can be “weak” and depressed and hurting inside, and in the end, you still deserve to live, and have the opportunity to find meaning in your own life, whether it’s through truth or fiction.

This has gotten pretty long by now, but I hope I could make it clear exactly why I love Saihara so much. I understand people’s dissatisfaction with the protagonist-swap, and while I perfectly understand that he isn’t for everyone, he’s still a fantastically written character in my opinion, with a wonderful and meaningful arc of development that really resonated with me, as someone who also has struggled with similar mental health issues. I think the decision to do something extremely different from Naegi and Hinata was an excellent decision, and while I still love both of them as characters in their own right, Saihara is just so compelling both as an individual character and the protagonist of ndrv3.

Thank you for the question anon, and thank you to those of you who read to the end! I hope I could offer a decent character analysis!

[animebaby00]

Early Morning Welcome: Soma Yukihira X Reader - One-shot

Summary: You've already been welcomed in as the newest member of the Polar Star Dormitory, but a certain redhead extends your welcome with a delicious morning breakfast. 

It wasn't your alarm clock that woke you up. 

It wasn't the early morning sunshine peeking in through your curtains or the faint chirping of birds from your closed window. 

It was your nose. 

Or rather the action of your nose inhaling so deeply that it had caused a new aroma to overcome you from the otherwise plain scent of your room and crumpled sheets that were covering nearly half of your face.

And it smelled...delicious. 

With your intrigue fully captured, you swung your legs over the edge of your bed, tossing the covers away into a crumpled heap at the base of the mattress. Feet sliding into your slippers, you stood, and shuffled out of your room. 

Once in the hall, you noticed how quiet it was. All doors were shut with no traces of your fellow dorm mates in sight. 

The smell was a little more powerful now, as it wafted through the air and entered your nostrils. You could only make sense that someone was cooking, and considering this was one of the  dorms to the greatest cooking schools in the world, it supposedly made sense to a certain extent. But still, this early in the morning?

With crossed arms, you slowly padded to the stairwell and took quiet steps to reach the bottom floor, turning to head towards the kitchen. 

Your ears then picked up the sound of clanging pans and the sizzling sound of something being cooked. You sniffed the air again. 

It smelled rich, hearty, and delightedly greasy.

Bacon perhaps? 

Your nose carried you further until finally, you reached the large kitchen of the Polar Star Dormitory. 

And you were right. 

Someone was up and cooking away without a care in the world. 

He was male, lean yet slightly muscular, the curvature of his biceps evident through his thin, blue shirt as he expertly whisked away at a substance heating in a pot over the stove. 

A strip of white fabric was tied around his forehead, contrasting against his slightly tanned skin and vibrant red hair. 

But even though he seemed heavily drawn in by his work, it didn't stop him from noticing your slightly hidden form from out of the corner of his eye.

He turned his head, causing you to stiffen as you met his friendly, golden gaze. His free hand flew up into a wave.

"Hey ! Mornin Y/N !" 

His greeting caught you off guard, especially since you weren't too familiar with your new dorm mates yet. They welcomed you humbly the night before and you could only recall a few of their names in full. 

Still, he had greeted you and you didn't want to be rude, but…

"G-Good morning. It's...Soma, right ? Sorry, I... don't remember your last name." You admitted shyly, "I would have addressed you as such but I didn't really get a chance to memorize the names of everyone here."

"Ah, don't worry about it," he shrugged off, "The formality isn't necessary. But you're okay with me calling you Y/N aren't ya?" He asked, flashing you a toothy grin.

You nodded, finding a strange, immediate comfort in his friendliness,"Yeah. Absolutely."

"Awesome!" he stood straighter, extending his right hand out while he continued whisking,  "I know last night was a little crazy so I'll go ahead and introduce myself fully. Soma Yukihira. It's nice to meetcha."

You smiled warmly, stepping fully into the kitchen and over to where he stood, reaching your hand out to grasp his in a shake.

"Y/N L/N. It's nice to meet you too."

He flashed another smile, before letting go of your hand and turned back to the stove. 

You tilted your head at him thoughtfully. 

Even though you just met, you were very intrigued by this boy and for some reason, you wanted to know more about him. 

But just as you opened your mouth to speak, he beat you to the point.

"Say, Y/N. Are ya hungry ?" 

You blinked. This boy certainly had his ways of catching people off guard, but you answered him nonetheless.

"Uhm...maybe a little. I guess."

"Perfect. Go and sit. I'll make you something."

"Uh, no it's okay !" You waved your hands in front of your face, "You don't have to."

"I've already kinda got a head start anyways. Go ahead and take a seat. It won't take long "

You held your breath, thinking that there wasn't any way to turn down his offer, mindlessly adding 'persistent' to the unknown list of traits you were giving him in your head. 

Soma turned away, going back to the stove as you made your way to one of the seats at the bar, pulling out the chair and situating yourself comfortably, a palm resting on your cheek while your arm propped itself up on the counter. 

There weren't any other sounds in the kitchen beside the occasional chop of a knife and the continued sizzle of food being cooked. And even though you practically had a front row seat of his actions, you had no idea what Soma was making. 

He was very quick and precise with his actions, his timing with everything near perfection and you were completely transfixed as he moved almost gracefully with nearly everything he did.

"Do you do this alot ?"

He looked up, "What ? Cook?" 

You shook your head, "No. I mean obviously you cook because why else would you be here." Your hand gestured to the clock on the wall, which currently read 6:15 AM, "I mean cook this early in the morning, and for other people so randomly like this."

"Well in a way," he started, cutting a lemon and squeezing the juice into a pot, "My dad and I own a family eatery and we opened pretty early in the morning. But most of the time, it's just to get in some early practice." 

"Practice ?" 

"Uh huh. I mean I won't get any better if I don't experiment and work with different things. And if I don't get better, then I'll never beat my old man." 

His words piqued your interest, "What do you mean 'beat him' ?" 

Soma looked up at the ceiling, "He and I battle in the kitchen sometimes, but I have yet to whip up something better than him." He clenched his fist, "He's one of the greatest chefs there is, and it's my goal to beat him one day along with being the best chef at this school so I'm good enough to run our eatery." 

You smiled, admiring his determination, "Guess that video means you weren't lying then." 

He tilted his head, "Video? What video?" 

"The girls showed me a recording of your speech at the entrance exam. I didn't get a chance to see it since I was late arriving here. You seemed really dead set and," Your hesitated, remembering the angled shot of the people in the crowd and how poisonous their features looked,"...A lot of people looked sort of mad at you."

"Did they? Huh. Guess I didn't notice."

You practically fell over. Of course he didn't. For someone to have such big aspirations and goals, he was kind of an airhead. 

But you honestly kind of appreciated it. For some people, it took a lot to ignore the negligent opinions of others, but Soma seemed to shrug any bad omen about him off completely. 

You sort of...envied him.

"All right, breakfast is served !" 

Your thought bubble popped once his voice breached the air, looking down at the plate he had placed in front of you.

And what you saw had your E/C irises snapping open in shock. 

They were pancakes, thick and fluffy, cooked to a golden perfection while the middle remained a delightful off-white. There were two of them, stacked and topped off with pieces of crispy, pan fried bacon that stuck out delicately from their placement on top of the fluffy mounds. A deep yellow sauce cascaded from the top and over the edges, it's supposed thickness adding a strange elegance to the dish, making even the mediocre light in the kitchen glisten off of its polished finish. And the whole thing was garnished with a pinch of parsley. 

You were completely awestruck.

"Well ?" Soma inquired, that same grin plastered on its face, "Aren't you gonna try it?" 

You looked up at him, still totally bewildered, "I-Well, yes but it...it almost looks too beautiful to eat. Like I'd be destroying a piece of art or something." 

Soma laughed, "Well I'm definitely happy that it's pleasing to the eye. But good food is meant to be eaten so don't think you're ruining anything." He gave you a thumbs up, "Go ahead and enjoy !"

You smiled softly and picked up the fork and knife he had laid out next to the plate, preparing to cut off an edge of the pancake.

"Ah, wait !" 

You looked up, "What's wrong ?"

He folded his arms, "Cut it right down the middle."

"....Huh ?"

"Just trust me."

You blinked, your next words trailing out with confusion, "O….k…."

He gave you a wink and watched as you moved again to cut into the pancakes, but this time, right down the middle like Soma had told you. 

Your knife glided right through the top, piercing what you thought was the pancake. That is, until a rich, orangey-yellow substance burst out and flowed down the edge of your knife and soaked through the fluffy center of the pancakes while also mixing with the thickened sauce below. 

"Woah…" you breathed. 

"Doesn't take much to wow you, I see." Soma chuckled, "Now make sure to get everything together."

You nodded slowly, taking care to create what looked like a perfect bite of fluffy, rich, and crispy.

Lifting the fork to your mouth, your lips encompassed it fully before pulling it back out clean and your eyes widened again as your mouth went to work in letting everything glide over your taste buds. 

So much flavor and so many different textures. 

The pancake was just as soft as it looked. The bacon was still crispy, even as you noticed it's thicker cut in biting it with your teeth. The sauce was thick and absolutely divine, buttery with a hint of acidity.

Acidity.

The lemon you saw him squeezing earlier.

Its classic yellow color. 

Hollandaise sauce.

You inwardly gasped, now tasting and recognizing the other component of the dish that had burst out when you had cut into it.

It's smooth subtlety mixed perfectly with everything, the taste so familiar and oddly vibrant even though it was an extremely common breakfast food whether scrambled, boiled, fried, or in this case, poached.

"So what do you think ?"

You savored it for as long as you could before finally, you swallowed, refraining from taking another bite of what tasted like heaven on a plate so you could answer the red head.

"It's... incredible!" 

Soma grinned, watching as your eyes quite literally started to sparkle which each additional bite you took.

It didn't take long for you to finish, and when you did, you sat back happily, humming as you relished in your delightful fill.

Soma leaned over the counter, "I take it you liked it ?" 

You nodded eagerly, " Mmhm ! I've never had pancakes like this before. It was so unique! Everything fits so well together! The bacon, the Hollandaise sauce, and was that a-"

Soma snapped his fingers, "Egg ? Yep ! You're exactly right ! You definitely know your stuff ! What you had there were Souffle Pancakes Eggs Benedict style. Not a lot of restaurants serve it and it was my first time making it. Kinda risky but I wanted to welcome you somehow."

You tilted your head up with a smile, "Well...you definitely did. Thank you, Soma." 

He beamed, removing the strip of fabric from his forehead and tied it around his arm, "Your Welcome, Y/N." 

You weren't sure if it was from the meal you just had, but you felt full, especially when it crossed over on just how thoughtful Soma had been to you even though you just met.

Come to think of it, everyone had been thoughtful the night you had arrived. 

You had been so nervous to cook for Miss Fumio, but you proved all successful in the end after she had tasted your dish. Everyone had been eavesdropping to see how you would do and surrounded you with all the congratulations in the world once you passed. 

Everyone celebrated that night with a feast and you appreciated their kindness with every out of gratefulness you could muster. 

They accepted you and wanted you to succeed.

No one at this dorm was at each other's throats like other students you had seen, especially the ones you had seen on the video of Soma at the entrance ceremony. 

No, everyone here was considerate and friendly with a want for everyone to do their best even if they had powerful aspirations of third own.

Wholeheartedly, you did feel welcomed, and Soma's actions increased that feeling tenfold. 

[sephirothisaslut]

Hypocratic Oath

(Featuring doctor/researcher!Cloud)

Cloud was 8 when he first found the library in the Nibelheim Mansion.

Through his childhood, Cloud often stayed in the mansion. Hiding from bullies, staying the day to pass time, or just simply to explore. No one would bother him here. All the kids think the place haunted, and all the adults fear it just as much. It made the perfect place to relax or hide.

Cloud thought he had already seen every nook and crany in the mansion. But was surprised when he found a library full of scientific text. It's doors made to look like any other wall, making it hard to spot.

There arent much books in Nibelheim. There's a library in the school, but it can more accurately be described as a classroom full of books instead of a proper library. And it's not like the custodian would let him in.

So as soon as Cloud entered, he immediately started reading.

At first, Cloud was very confused. He had a very limited understanding and comprehension of the text. But even from the little information he was able to gather, he was able to piece together the horrifying things ShinRa has done.

It spooked him so much, it took him a full week till he decided to read more.

He read them all. Project S, Jenova, and Sephiroth.

At that time, Cloud didn't know who this Sephiroth is. All he knows is that he must have led a painfull life.

-------

Cloud was 10 when he first saw Sephiroth on the television.

A general leading a war.... A fourteen year old general.

His eyes widened and his jaw dropped. Cloud's mother immediately noticed this.

"Cloudy you look pale, are you ok?" Claudia stroked her son's forehead, looking for any sign of fever.

"Y-yeah I'm good" Cloud managed to hide his shock.

"Really?"

"Yes ma. Really"

That night, Cloud thought of how it must have felt. His mother is warm and kind, he'd feel lonely without her. He wondered if Sephiroth felt any semblance of kindness or tenderness in his life.

The very next morning, he immediately raced to the mansion to find more. To find answers.

He found his answers in the form of Vincent Valentine.

He almost quite literally fell on him.

The man loomed over Cloud. His glowing red eyes and equally blood red cape screamed 'vampire'. And Cloud was rightly frightened so.

"What are you doing here child?" The man said with a glare.

"T-the library! Sephiroth- I mean-"

"What do you know about Sephiroth?" The man demanded.

Cloud stiffened both in fear and surprise. His face draining of color. The tall man seemed to notice this, and slowly crouched down to Cloud's level, now attempting to look non threatening.

"I'm sorry if I scared you, but can you tell me about Sephiroth?" The man asked kindly.

Cloud only nodded, his fear slowly evaporating. "I can show you the library" he said quietly.

"Take me there? Please?" The man asked almost desperately.

Cloud just nodded again, and took the stranger by his hand and led him to the hole he fell in.

Vincent looked at the child. How curious that this kid would choose to guide him by his misshapen hand.

"I'm Cloud. Cloud Strife" the child said in a shy tone.

"Vincent Valentine"

The child's small smile made him think there's hope for him yet.

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

Years passed and Cloud and Vincent's friendship grew.

Vincent was able to teach Cloud a number of things. He helped him comprehend the numerous scientific texts in the library, and even taught him about science and self-defence.

Vincent also helped distinguish truth from lie.

Cloud learned the truth of Sephiroth's true mother. How a scientist named Hojo betrayed them, and what he did to Vincent. In turn, Cloud told Vincent about Sephiroth's role as general, frequently updating him on the situation in Wutai. And sometimes bringing him home cooked meals.

With Vincent's tutoring and the library's numerous texts, Cloud grew smarter. He read because of curiousity. But now read to learn. This brought him to the top of his class, sparking an interest in biology and science. Though this didn't change the town's view on the Strifes.

His Ma, on the other hand, felt proud. And so did he.

-----

Cloud was 14 when he decided to go to Midgar.

Not to be a SOLDIER, no. But to be a Doctor.

After learning all those things about how SOLDIER was made, he couldn't stomach possibly being one.

It was a week after his birthday that he decided he'd help Vincent in any way he can. At first, Vincent disagreed. Saying it'll be dangerous, and that he'd be safer away from him. But Cloud is stubborn and fierce. There's a reason they're called Strife.

So, after some reluctance, Vincent eventually agreed.

Cloud is but a child. He's abysmal at fighting, and his aim with a gun is barely passable. The Turks wont suit him, and neither will SOLDIER. The only thing he has is his intelligence.

So Cloud steeled himself, and made the decision to join ShinRa's Science Department. Bringing him closer to Hojo, and by extension, Sephiroth.

"Oh my little raincloud, I'm going to miss you!" Claudia hugged her son. Silently praying to Odin for a safe journey, and thanking him for blessing her with Cloud.

"I'll miss you too ma." Cloud said, hugging back. Who would have thought that his grades would be enough to grant him a ShinRa Science Program Scholarship.

With a wave goodbye to his mother, Cloud Strife set out into the harsh world.

______________________________________________________________________________________________

"Professor Hojo, the President want's to see you" Cloud said behind the man.

The greasy scientist only tisked. And angrily dumped his clip board on Cloud.

"Keep track of the the data. Do not take your eyes off the specimen" Hojo snapped.

Cloud held back a snarky remark and politely nodded instead.

He looked down into the enclosure. The creature thrashing around in it's own blood. Choking on the mako gas.

He only continued to record data.

-----

"I'm Zack Fair! SOLDIER extroidinaire!" The newest SOLDIER First Class saluted at Cloud. His cheery smile a stark contrast to the rubble behind him.

Cloud had headed out in civilian clothing hoping to meet up with Vincent and Aerith. (Aerith was scared of him at first, learning that he apparently worked for Hojo).But instead somehow got caught in an AVALANCHE explosion.

"Name's Cloud. Cloud Strife" He somehow was reminded of a puppy as he studied Zack.

"Oh! You're Aerith's friend!" Zack shook his hand enthusiastically.

"And you're her boyfriend"

"Yup."

"You know as her friend, I'm obligated to say: if you break her heart, I will break you"

"Yeah yeah I know the drill"

Cloud only smiled at the raven-haired puppy's antics.

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

Two dark figures walked through the dark alleyways of the slums.

The smaller one knocked on the door of a closed bar.

"It's me"

The door opened and the pair walked in.

Both of them shedding their cloaks revealing two SOLDIER First Class.

"Ok he's here now explain" Zack sat on a stool facing the rest of the room.

Angeal and Genesis are there. So is Aerith and Vincent.

"Yes, do explain. As I recall, you two told me that you'd 'never show you faces' to me ever again." Sephritoh said, clearly hurt from Genesis and Angeal's defection.

"Seph, please wait-"

"I did my waiting Genesis! Now explain before I leave."

"They were dying" Vincent said from the corner of the room. "The J-cells they had were degrading"

"And how did you cure this? Even Hollander couldn't save them." Sephiroth asked suspiciously, still mad from the previous interaction. "Unless you asked Hojo"

"Before we do, we need to talk about Jenova-" Angeal was cut off by Sephiroth.

"We can do that later. Now answer my question."

Both Zack and Sephiroth looked at the group expectantly. There is weight to Sephiroth's words.

"I cured them" a voice from the door suddenly said.

"You" Sephiroth hissed.

"Cloud?" Zack gasped.

"I work for Hojo. I'm his primary assistant"

"What?" Zack tensed

"And you trust this man?" Sephiroth turned to Genesis and Angeal, gesturing to Cloud.

"Will you stop and listen!" Cloud snapped. "Listen here you pompous asshole, I risked my ass making you three that cure in Hojo's lab!"

"Wait three-"

"Yes, three. As in even Sephiroth needed one. So you better sit down and listen to what we have to say" Cloud growled, staring Sephiroth down. Daring him to say something.

As the silence permeated, Angeal cleared his throat, as if to ask permittion to continue.

"It started with Jenova"

------

They burned the Nibelheim reactor to the ground.

Sephiroth and Zack defected with Genesis, taking with them the rest of SOLDIER and a bulk of the infantry division.

They recruited Tifa on the way. Along with Yuffie -a Wutainese ninja, Cid - a pilot with a penchant for tea, and Nanaki -one of Hojo's specimens that Cloud helped escape, and AVALANCHE.

Cloud stayed in ShinRa as their spy.

But ever so often, he'd still meet with his friends just to chat or drink.

"Strife"

Cloud looked at Sephiroth questioningly. "What can I do for you?"

Sephiroth almost looked bashfull. His body language looked shy.

"I would-... I would like to thank you"

"For what"

"For...everything, I suppose" If the Silver General could blush, then he might have been now.

Cloud's breath hitched. "You're Welcome, General"

"Please, call me Sephiroth"

"Well then, call me Cloud. Sephiroth"

That day, Zack endlessly teased Sephiroth about his tiny smile.

---------

Cloud tended to Sephiroth's wounds. Careful to make sure it didn't hurt the man any more than necessary.

"You really need to take care of yourself"

"I'm fine"

Cloud sighed, "Sephiroth, you're still human. You need rest."

"After what Hojo did, I'm surprised you can still call me human" Sephiroth said bitterly.

Cloud grasped the man's shoulder, turning the general to face him.

"Sephiroth. Look at me" Cloud asked sternly. "You're as human as everyone as us"

"But-"

"Humanity isn't determined by your genetics, you know that" Cloud gently insisted.

"I-...Thank you" Sephiroth whispered, sounding broken.

That made Cloud realize how much Sephiroth must have wanted to hear that.

To hear confirmation of his humanity.

--------

It took several aching years till they finally took over ShinRa.

SOLDIER readily supported their generals, and the Turks soon defected after Veld and Vincent told them everything.

It didn't take long for Hojo to fall, and ShinRa to be taken over by Rufus.

Scarlett, Heidegger, Palmer, and even Hollander died. All of them officially coincidentally died of heart attacks. Confirmed by the new head of the Science Department himself.

"We finally did it huh?" Cloud leaned against Sephiroth's shoulders.

"Hmm, you think this will work?" Sephiroth moved to wrap his hands around Cloud.

"Well me and Reeve are working on alternate energy sources right now. It should be fine"

Sephiroth nuzzled Cloud's neck. "For now we should rest"

Cloud sighed into their embrace. "Yeah...we should"

(Loosely based on Professor Strife)

[wanna-b-poet31]

Aziraphale and Food

So, stick with me for a moment: Why do we almost universally essentialize Aziraphale into a glutton? 

Like yes, he eats, and yes, to our knowledge he’s the only known celestial creature (Christs and Anti-Christs notwithstanding) to eat on screen, but he never really eats to excess. In fact, I don’t think he eats food because he’s a hedonist (I mean he is a hedonist, but maybe not for this), BUT rather because it provides him an excuse to be with Crowley. 

Sounds ridiculous right? It shouldn’t be right, right? We see Aziraphale eat alot over the course of the show, we see him enjoy eating, and we never see Crowley eat ever. So, it can’t all just be a ploy to be with Crowley?  Right?

I mean he certainly enjoys eating, I’m not fool enough to say he isn’t getting any pleasure from dining out.  Just look at his face as he appreciates the sushi! Joy! 

And this calm, happiness follows Aziraphale when later in Ep. 1, Crowley takes him to the Ritz in an attempt to persuade him to save the world.  And, to celebrate surviving the end of the world with his boyfriend best friend, the first thing they do once they’re free, really free of Heaven and Hell and their abusers, is going to the Ritz. 

So I’m not proposing that Aziraphale doesn’t eat, or that he doesn’t get any enjoyment from eating >I mean look at how his face falls he is When Gabriel asks why he’s eating food, proceeding to call it “gross matter”, and eating it “sullies” his heavenly temple.  It’s straight-up heartbreak, as Aziraphale glances down at his spicy tuna roll.  (and let’s not forget or excuse that what Gabriel is doing here is abusive) <

However, if Aziraphale’s interest in food is simply selfish or gluttonous, then we must have seen him eat plenty of times without Crowley or the expectation that eating would be a vehicle for their social interaction.

We don’t.

AZIRAPHALE + SUSHI

Just think back to the above scene that establishes Aziraphale’s character. 

This is the only scene with Aziraphale and food that does not include Crowley. And sure, he is alone in a sushi place, before being rudely interrupted by Gabriel’s garbage attitude. Crowley doesn’t isn’t there now, he’s not ducking under the table, or jumping out the window, or materializing himself anywhere else but there to avoid being seen by Heaven. So, clearly, this must be proof of Aziraphale’s undying attachment to food. 

Case Closed.  Diagnosis: Gluttony plain and simple.

However, if this is true, how do we explain his peculiar behavior in this restaurant? 

For starters, immediately after receiving his food, he’s striking a conversation with the chef -- a chef who knows his NAMEd, not Mr. Fell, not some pseudonym, not simply addressing him like another customer, but as a friend (at least an acquaintance).  Perhaps even more telling is not that Aziraphale and the Chef know each other, but that Aziraphale -- I’m a bit out of Practice is French IN FRANCE -- has gone out of his way to learn Japanese to converse with this person, treating him with the respect of a friend, not someone who is here simply for food alone. This is social. 

Then there is a small chime, indicating a supernatural presence has entered the building. (We hear the same chime when Crowley rescues his ass from a guillotine) And notice how unsurprised he is by the sudden supernatural presence. He’s expecting a guest.

Couple this information with Crowley’s behavior at the graveyard (he acts like he wants to get the hell out of Dodge even before he’s tasked with delivering the Anti-christ like he’s got a prior engagement) and the knowledge that the A40 goes straight through Soho.  

I think it’s reasonable to conclude that he’s expecting Crowley. 

Notice how he pointedly looks to his left upon hearing the magical chime.  We see in the next (below) shot, that he’s not turning to the door, but to a mirror.  So why look there if not because Crowley always is on his right?

His face instantly drops and an overjoyed expectant look turns to a terse, forced polite smile when he sees Gabriel, not Crowley, has joined him. And while he defends eating, we don’t see him eat (even after Gabriel leaves). I think, perhaps unintentionally, this is the scene that tells us why Aziraphale eats. 

Pretext.

AZIRAPHALE’S SOCIAL CALL, CROWLEY’S BUSINESS DEAL

Let’s look at the first time (temporally) we see Aziraphale broach the idea of food. In the early years and in Heaven, Aziraphale doesn’t volunteer any interest in food or social interaction. However, in Rome, things are clearly different.

>check out where I purpose Aziraphale falls in love with Crowley in Rome here<.

Notice how in the opening shot, Aziraphale isn’t eating. There’s no drink in his hand, no grapes in his mouth, nothing to indicate that he has been eating, or socializing.  When suddenly!! He hears a voice, and stops, his game piece hovering over the board as he realizes Crowley is nearby. 

Only when after he approaches Crowley, does food enter the conversation Hearing Crowley order gives him the perfect in, the clearly acceptable, casual social relationship that no one could question.  He can see that Crowley, like him, has changed and that the demon is giving him limited responses, barely joining the conversation. 

Aziraphale tries-- he honest to God tries -- to start a conversation without pretext, without some kind of excuse to join in the welcome, and frankly comforting, company.  He asks “still a demon” trying, oh so haphazardly, to make it about work, kind of like when someone is asking you about the weather, and it blows up in his face, earning him the wrath of his friend. He simply can’t be the one to initiate business conversations because it, as a pretext for their relationship, is always off the mark, and comes across as dismissive of Crowley’s demon identity. 

Only when he talks about food does he manage to get Crowley to open up, and accept his presence. He gives Aziraphale the all-clear to continue talking to him, and Aziraphale fucking jumps on it.  It’s extra fascinating how both parties leave this scene with two radically different uses for food. For Aziraphale, it is a safe pretext to get Crowley to open up, but for Crowley, it seems to be Aziraphale’s main interest, not him. 

Crowley also doesn’t seem to get that Aziraphale is not equipped to talk shop, and needs the security in being in a sanctioned social interaction.  Friendly talks like the ones they’d shared earlier were comforting to Aziraphale, getting him to open up in a way that no other character had successfully managed.  He means for this, and more importantly, he NEEDS this to be social. To be a kind of friendship, partnership, that he doesn’t get from Heaven. There’s security in being casual, social, and nothing more than that. 

However, Crowley can’t talk about himself in any meaningful way. He mentions he’s never had oysters before, his sarcasm missing Aziraphale only to have him be surprised when Aziraphale tries one last jab at the business talk. The “let me tempt you” gets his attention, but he doesn’t relax until Aziraphale, “no, I suppose that’s your job”, or when Aziraphale diverts the conversation back into their work.  

Both walk away from this conversation thinking “yes, I know how to talk to him now” Except, they don’t. Aziraphale doesn’t recognize Crowley uses their work as a catalyst, and Crowley doesn’t recognize that for Aziraphale food is a catalyst, not the product, he desires. 

A MISCOMMUNICATION

When Crowley asks for a “favor”, a work lunch, we can see how the two fundamentally misunderstand how food is being used, and how the other thinks food is being used.

The whole exchange about the crepes, boils down to Crowley opening the door with “remember that work favor?” and Aziraphale responding with “I don’t remember the work pretext, but I remember sharing crepes with you”. 

Notice it’s not I had crepes, nor is it a focus on the food itself. It is Aziraphale emphasizing the shared part of the shared experience, not the details (which we get to see by the way) of being rescued or of accusing Crowley of starting the revolution, and Crowley explaining that neither side had started it, but the humans had.  All Aziraphale cares about is their relationship, but can only safely use food as his point of reference because it allows him to share time with Crowley.  

Contrast this with how Crowley’s perspective. Even just asking if it was one of Heaven’s or Hell’s is cementing the conversation as a work lunch, reminding Aziraphale (and perhaps himself) that they’re only allowed a professional relationship, not a social one, and he gives himself the pretext of work.  Neither recognizes that there is a cross in the symbolism. 

THE SHIFT

Things do shift, at least for Aziraphale, and food works a second role. Romance.

In the 60′s Aziraphale doubles down on using food to facilitate his relationship with Crowley because now he explicitly us that, “He can’t have [Crowley] risking [his] life, not even for something dangerous” which I think means “I’m afraid of our relationship without the pretext and safety that food has provided us me.” The danger is having their mutual feelings of love being discovered, so he’ll give Crowley the holy water as a symbol of that trust.  

But when he continues as uses food to roadmap a relationship free of the pretext, “Maybe one day we’ll go for a picnic, dine at the Ritz” is indeed a literal example of what their relationship could be but it also acts as a promise that “Maybe, one day we can go on a picnic, or dine at the Ritz without the excuses, and simply be us enjoying food, not us using food as a safety net”. It’s a road map that he will continue with the pretext, and he’s alright if Crowley is tired of using it to be around each other, but he needs it, not always, not forever, but for now, it allows him the comfort that he is protecting Crowley’s safety (as well as himself). 

Crowley counters this moment with, “I’ll take you anywhere you want to go”  which I argue translates into “I will dismiss the pretext now in a heartbeat, I’m not afraid of the consequences, I could ‘eat’ with you now”, but Aziraphale can’t risk it. “You Go too Fast for me Crowley” is a warning that he can’t have Crowley risking his life for him. We talk often about how Crowley has self-esteem issues, but so does Aziraphale, he does not see himself as being worthy of such a risk. So, he needs the pretense of food to function without (much) worry about what Hell would do to Crowley if they were discovered. 

Unfortunately, they’re not speaking the same symbolic language, and as pointed out earlier, their wires are crossed. 

CONCLUSION 

In the beginning of the show, Crowley uses “no more fascinating little restaurants where everyone knows your name” specifically as a selling point, appealing to his presumption that Aziraphale’s love of food outweighs his love of the demon. He’s seen Aziraphale eat, and enjoy himself, clearly, at least Crowley thinks this tactic is reason enough to get Aziraphale to stay.  Which points to the fatal flaw of Crowley’s reasoning.  He only uses it because saying “we’ll never be able to talk to each other again” doesn’t even register as something he can say because he doesn’t value himself as enough for Aziraphale to consider saving the world. Food, however? Food has acted as a catalyst for understanding, but Crowley mistranslates “catalyst” for “produce” and presumes that because Aziraphale uses food to talk to him, he must love food, and not him. He’s wrong.

It’s not until they both throw out pretext and realize “shit, the song and dances we’ve been doing have not allowed us to rely on each other in the way we need” that they can move forward. And, after Armagedon’t they do just that, leaving the garden, and the remnants of their loyalties to other parties, and dropping all pretext, and just enjoying each other’s company as equals. 

Ending the series at the Ritz, celebrating their closeness is likely not the last time they’ll ever share a meal, but it is likely the last time they will under the pretense that food is Aziraphale’s central desire and not Crowley.  Sure, food is something Aziraphale mostly enjoys, but it no longer is an excuse. If he eats, it’s for enjoyment and personal choice, not a means for hiding or protecting Crowley anymore. And for Crowley, “tempting” Aziraphale to a bite of lunch without the expectation of a favor, or repaying a favor, removes his similar reservations about pretext. He no longer has to rely on work to simply “be” with Aziraphale. 

TLDR: Aziraphale uses food as a social excuse to spend time with Crowley

Thanks for coming to my TedTalk, next time I’ll write too much about Crowley and retraumatization