#spy cheating cards

[pixelgamer07]

Um.... last two games I played were Kingdom Hearts 2 Final Mix and Raft. So... idk I'm drawing a blank here.

duality of man

[gallifreyanhotfive]

Random Doctor Who Facts You Might Not Know, Part 69

One time while escaping from a cell, Romana commented that it would be child's play to unlock the door with her sonic screwdriver. She then said it was literally child's play as doing so had been a game back on Gallifrey. (Audio: Subterranea)

One of Jamie's distant relations became a spy during World War II and used the name "the Doctor." (Audio: Operation Werewolf)

On his report, Borusa gave Theta Sigma a 7 in the subject of "Physical Inactivity." He commented that his pupil seems to think he is a mountain goat. (Short story: Report on Term's Work)

Memory lanterns are Time Lord devices that resemble paper lanterns but record an individual's thoughts and memories. During the Time War, many Gallifreyans released these lanterns as a desperate ploy to not be forgotten, as they thought they would all die. (Novel: Engines of War)

Ben, Polly, and Jamie played with a ouija board on the TARDIS. This caused a dark cloud from the time vortex to slip inside Jamie's mind, affecting his behavior. The Second Doctor banished the cloud by reading a recipe for Bajaxx stew written in Ancient Gallifreyan. (Short story: Something at the Door)

Jarra To killed the previous overseer of the Axis. Eventually, a Time Lord came to investigate, but they killed them. By the time the Fifth Doctor and his companions landed there, they described the corpse as "rank" with oozing flesh and insect larvae. (Audio: The Axis of Insanity)

After leaving Nyssa, Tegan, and Marc behind, the Fifth Doctor had several adventures on his own. Eventually, he encountered his Eleventh self, and he decided to return to his companions because he didn't want to be like him - companionless and disparaged in 1892. (Audio: Thin Time)

Time Vortex leeches live in the time vortex, and the Doctor had thought they were a myth from Ancient Gallifreyan songs until one of them clung to his Eleventh self's TARDIS exterior. (Comic: Space in Dimension Relative and Time)

One time, a man called Gaylord Lefevre played a game of cards against the Toymaker. He cheated and used a needle to mark cards, but the Toymaker was aware of this and altered his cards to be a hand full of jokers when Gaylord wasn't looking. The Toymaker claimed he wasn't cheating but instead following a new rule that Gaylord had introduced - that cheating was acceptable. (Comic: The Greatest Gamble)

Gallifrey has a transtube, which is basically an underground train. It has a central station under the Capitol. (Novel: The Ancestor Cell)

One time after the Seventh Doctor was knocked out, he drowsily told Ace that he had had a terrible dream. A man with ringlets had been reaching out to him, saying, "Come in, Number Seven, your time is up." He was talking about the Eighth Doctor. (Audio: The Silurian Candidate)

Maria Mazzini once commented on how powerful the Fifth Doctor's thighs were - after slapping them. (Audio: Serpent in the Silver Mask)

One time, the Fourth Doctor decided to take Sarah Jane to Geshtinanna. The journey in the TARDIS took nine weeks, during which both became bored and tired. While traveling in the time vortex, the clocks in the TARDIS all stopped, and the Doctor then detected the remains of another TARDIS in the vortex, trapped their because the pilot had made the mistake of locking their course. They were worried that they too had fallen to the same fate and were unable to change course, but when the day of materialization finally came, they successfully materialized. The Doctor realized that the TARDIS had stopped all the clocks out of respect for her fallen fellow TARDIS. Even after nine weeks of travel, they materialized nowhere close to Geshtinanna. (Short story: Eternity)

The Seventh Doctor has shifted his genetic makeup enough to disguise himself before and mimic someone else. He admitted that he learned this trick from the Master, who frequently used regeneration as a disguise. (Novel: Original Sin)

On Gallifrey, there are two hundred and eight tenses in their languages. They don't translate well. (Novel: The Crystal Bucephalus)

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[pedropascallme]

The Weather Ain't Been Bad

Pairing: Damien Haas x f!Reader

Summary: “You had barely made it off the last step, rounding the corner to the kitchen, when you heard a voice call your name. You flinched, hand flying to your chest in a brief moment of panic, not suspecting anybody else to be awake, let alone downstairs, while you were roaming the halls like some kind of restless spirit.”

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI) p in v sex, dom/sub dynamics, fingering, oral (f receiving), spitting, Damien is a biter but we knew that, lots of begging and even more praise, Damien likes getting his hair pulled but we knew that. If I missed anything please let me know!

“You look dumb.”

“I’ll literally—look at me, look at me. Shut up.”

You listened to Shayne and Angela argue in the back seat, their back and forth had started as a game of I-spy and quickly devolved into improvised insults on hour one of the drive after a patch of traffic resulted in a lack of things to spy.

“Literally nothing you say could ever affect me I don’t care about anything you have to say to me.” Shayne deadpanned and you heard Angela let out a shrill sound as she tried to climb out of her seatbelt to punch him in the arm.

“Hey, you know what would actually be really fun?” Damien, driving, looked back at them through the rearview mirror, “If you guys would, uh, shut the hell up?”

You laughed quietly; head propped up on the window as you watched the California landscape go from dusty highway to snowcapped trees. Hours long car ride aside, you were happy to be making the trip. It had never occurred to you that upon Anthony’s return to the company there would be a renaissance of Smosh content that didn’t have to do with the main channel, but when they announced the return of the Winter Games you felt a swell of joy—it was nice to be part of something that went back so many years and still continued to entertain the masses, especially when that something made you feel a cathartic sort of nostalgia.

And now, sitting in the front seat and listening to your friends threaten each other in increasingly ridiculous ways, watching Damien’s hand on the steering wheel, it went beyond simple nostalgia: It was pure ecstasy. The low hum of music on the radio paired nicely with the long road ahead, and you leaned back, closing your eyes for a moment.

You felt a hand on your knee, giving you a short squeeze. You opened your eyes, grabbing Damien’s hand and squeezing him back.

“What?” You playfully pushed his hand back towards his body, and he gripped the steering wheel.

“You’re my GPS, you can’t fall asleep.”

“I could navigate!” Angela leaned forward, elbows on the center console.

“You—you would get us lost in your own house, you psycho.” Amanda piped up for the first time in several minutes, placing a hand gingerly on Angela’s shoulder and laughing.

“Hey!” Angela turned her attention away from the front seat, pushing against Shayne, who had started laughing at her expense once more.

Damien glanced at you from his peripheral, as if to silently lament about your friends in the back seat, and you glanced back, smiling.

You appreciated the moments you got to spend with Damien. It wasn’t like they were rare; since you’d joined the cast, he was always someone you’d found a sort of reliability in, and a shared sense of humor went a long way. He was always a beacon of tranquility amongst the chaos of the office. He could be just as rowdy as everybody else—and often was—but he was always able to weed out when somebody needed a moment to recalibrate, and it felt like he knew what you needed before even you did sometimes. But he seemed to have that effect on most everybody, and you didn’t want to push too hard for something that might not be there, despite how happy you were to feel his hand on your back when he guided you through crowded spaces, or to hear him say your name in that faux-crestfallen way when you cheated in cards.

He turned his gaze back to the road, and you found yourself leaning against the window again, passively looking at his reflection in the trees that darted by, and thinking things that you decided should remain unsaid.

~~~

The house was gigantic, and even that was putting it lightly.

In theory, you recognized that you worked for a multi-million-dollar company, but it was more than a little weird to be standing in the doorway of a house big enough to hold at least 20 copies of your own apartment inside of it.

But you understood the want to splurge; it had been years since the last Winter Games, and even longer still since there had been a Games with Anthony. It was exciting, and even before you had gotten to the cabin-style mansion, there had been a buzz in the air; cast and crew alike vibrating in anticipation of a vacation-like period where things would be more akin to camp than to work.

Filming started immediately, and you barely had time to think about what exactly was happening before you were back in front of a camera.

Shoulder to shoulder with the rest of the cast, Ian and Anthony made picks for their respective teams; it was easy to forget that you were in a new space—it was like you’d never left the office, still in good company and laughing until your cheeks hurt. You donned the bright blue shirt that had been handed to you, and wondered how many raunchy, snow-related jokes you’d have to hear over the next week.

“Be honest with me,” you put the shirt on over the one you were already wearing, joining the side of the room with the rest of your teammates, “Are we gonna lose?”

Damien laughed, “With that attitude? Probably.”

Maybe the best part of the trip was the fact that this year marked the first time that everybody got their own room. You’d heard the stories—not that they were all that bad, but it was nice to know that even when surrounded by your friends for two weeks, you’d still be able to duck out for some private time in your own space.

Except that your room was freezing.

You hadn’t noticed it upon your arrival, coat still zipped up and adrenaline on high, but once you had showered and readied yourself for bed, you recognized the deep, unwelcome chill in your bones. The source evaded you; the windows were closed, the ceiling fan was completely still—it was a frustrating end to a long day.

You gave up, putting on a heavier sweatshirt and deciding that locating the source of the frigid air was a problem for tomorrow. There had to be extra blankets somewhere, and you tried to recall whether there had been any on the couches downstairs. Even if there weren’t, getting out of your room and regaining a little feeling in your fingers sounded appealing.

You quietly exited your bedroom.

Tiptoeing down the stairs, you shifted your weight awkwardly from side to side to avoid any sudden creaks from the old wood. The house was silent—save for the wind outside that howled against the windows every few moments—and you didn’t want to disturb the peace.

You had barely made it off the last step, rounding the corner to the kitchen, when you heard a voice call your name. You flinched, hand flying to your chest in a brief moment of panic, not suspecting anybody else to be awake, let alone downstairs, while you were roaming the halls like some kind of restless spirit.

“I’m sorry—did I scare you?” The familiar sound of timely apologies, whispered from across the room. You felt your heart settle. “I’m sorry.”

“Jesus, Damien,” you took measured breaths, ��scared me.”

“Sorry,” his voice was low. He stood behind the kitchen island, hair messy, and it was clear he was struggling to sleep as much as you were.

“It’s ok,” you walked towards where he was standing, leaning over the island to grab at his arm reassuringly before letting go; his skin was warm against your palm, and even in the dark of the room you were unable to tear your eyes from him. “I didn’t think anybody else was up.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not by choice,” he sighed, “my room is a sauna.”

“You’ve got your own room, you couldn’t just strip down?” You raised your eyebrows, teasing him, trying not to think about how he might look spread out on his bed with nothing on.

“There are only so many layers I can take off until it’s, like, my skin,” he smiled, and you broke out into a quiet laugh.

“Well, my room is freezing, so,” you collected yourself a little, “I came down looking for more blankets, but if you wanted to switch…”

“Is the window open?” He furrowed his brow, seemingly concerned by your discomfort.

“Not even a crack,” you clarified, “Your room sounds like a dream to me right now.”

You didn’t realize how it sounded until he let out a snort, “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

“You know what I meant.” You rolled your eyes, and he reached over the counter to brush his hand against yours in a gesture of peace.

You stood quietly together, enjoying each other’s company and the calm of the house. You let your hand remain under his on the granite, and he didn’t make any moves to separate from you.

“Thanks for being a good sport about navigating,” Damien ran his other hand over his face, tired after the seemingly endless day. “I know it probably wasn’t your first choice.”

“Yeah, well. You better thank God we’re on the same team, otherwise I’d use 'competitive determination' as an excuse to get back at you for keeping me up." You shot back jovially, “But, you know…it was nice to help you out.” You paused. “I liked it, actually.”

He shot you a small smile, which you returned, and the two of you let silence fall again.

“How about I see if I can find the source of whatever it is that’s making you so cold?” He tilted his head, sincerely offering to help you, and you could never say no to an offer like that.

You could never say no to Damien.

“That would be nice.” You curled your pinky into the palm of his hand before turning to lead him to your room.

You were friends, always had been upon your entrance into the company; he was an undeniably important presence in your life for that very reason—he was there. He was always there when you needed him. He was supportive and kind and stupidly funny, and, yeah, incredibly attractive. But that didn’t mean it had to be something more. Just because you looked forward to the days he came into work with dark stubble that contrasted with the silver of his hair, just because you forgot the rules to certain games sometimes because you were too focused on the way his sleeves fit around his arms, just because you loved the way his eyes trailed over your face when you told him a story and he got just as animated as you did—it didn’t have to be anything more than friendship.

But realistically, despite your insistence to your friends and to yourself that you considered Damien a great, strictly-platonic friend and nothing more, you knew what you really wanted.

You knew you wanted more.

And despite the innocent context under which you were bringing him up to your room, there was a surge of adrenaline that coursed through your chest while he trailed behind you.

“Jesus,” he pushed his shoulders back upon opening the door to your room, goosebumps pricking his skin. “Some weather we’re having.”

“I told you,” you pushed past him, kicking a stray pair of socks into the corner. “You still think you can fix it?”

“They actually call me Damien “Fix-It” Haas,” he cracked his knuckles, “Don’t look into it.”

You smiled, shaking your head, spreading your arms out to signal that he could poke around freely.

It took him approximately ten seconds to locate the thermostat behind a curtain.

“Are you serious?” You kicked yourself for missing what should’ve been so obvious.

“I’m Damien,” he went straight-faced, “And this says sixty-five degrees—how are you not frozen solid?”

“Pure will.” Your head fell back in exasperation, “How did I miss that?”

“You’re tired,” he softened, “It’s been a long day, y’know, and I bet a lot of people are too dumb to look behind curtains—”

You cut him off with a curt but soft shove to his chest, and he grabbed your hands after they made impact, both of you semi-delirious from lack of sleep and falling into a fit of giggles. He removed one of his hands from you, leaning back to change the thermostat.

“It’ll heat up eventually,” he started, “What number do you want it at?”

“Warm.”

“So, that is not a number,” he smiled at you, “I’ll put it in the seventies.”

“Thank you,” you wriggled free of the grasp he still had on your wrist, “My hero.”

You stood facing each other for a moment, neither of you ready to part for some reason.

“I should go to sleep,” you finally spoke.

“Yeah.” He agreed, voice sounding raspier than it had before. He started to walk towards the door while you leaned back onto the pillows on the bed.

“Damien,” you didn’t know what you were doing, or if you should be doing it, but it felt only logical in the moment, “Stay.”

You watched him freeze in place, turning back to look at you.

“I mean…if your room is uncomfortable to sleep in—what, are you gonna sleep on the couch?” You continued, rambling to find reasoning behind your sudden offer, “You can just stay here tonight.”

“Seriously?” He scanned your features, trying to figure out if you were serious or if this was just a joke that he hadn’t caught onto yet.

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure—?”

“I’m just saying, it’s not fair that you have to spend the night in discomfort. Especially after you fixed the temperature in here.” You felt a red heat rising in your ears, but you soldiered on, still waiting for a yes or no. You watched as he turned to walk towards the door again, and your heart sank a little, before he closed the door in front of him and walked back to you.

“One hell of a sleepover—one bed, no snacks, and you don’t even have a Wii,” He feigned disappointment.

“But I hear when mom goes to sleep, they bring out Kevin’s mom.” You smiled, digging your heels into the comforter, and he laughed at the callback.

He sat on the mattress, leaning back on the pillows with you, and you used it as an excuse to angle yourself towards him, resting your head lightly on his shoulder.

“I can sleep on the floor. If you want…” He whispered, and you felt his fingers trail up your own hand.

“No,” you turned to look at him, still on your back but suddenly very aware of the proximity to which you were lying next to each other, letting him continue to run his hand along your arm. “It’s still cold in here.”

“I can turn the heat up—”

You watched as he traced the curve of your elbow with his finger before letting it fall back to your hand, “Damien, stop being a gentleman. Just share the bed with me.”

“Ok.” He stopped moving, gaze falling on you and swallowing shallowly. You laced your fingers with his. You were certain he could see your heart beating through your ribcage, or at the very least he could see the way your pulse bounced in your wrist. “Yeah, ok.”

You didn’t undress, didn’t even get under the covers, but something felt so intimate; a shift in the air. Maybe it was the new warmth that permeated throughout the room, but it was different, in the best way.

It felt like more.

He didn’t touch you, didn’t even graze your back when you turned over to get comfortable. But you felt his breath on the back of your head, rustling your hair and drifting over the back of your neck.

Your eyes stayed open, unable to let sleep take hold despite the tranquility; the moon bounced off the snow and caused a dim light to trickle through the window, and you were wide awake.

You shifted again, turning back over to face Damien. His eyes were closed, and you watched the subtle movements of his body, chest rising and falling softly with each breath.

“It’s creepy to watch people sleep.” He whispered, and you bit your tongue, unsure of what to say. Busted. He opened one eye and broke into a small smile. “Are you gonna murder me?”

“Haven’t decided yet.” You whispered back, nearly letting the sound of the wind outside drown you out.

“I could take you,” he propped himself up on his arm.

“Is that a challenge or a blanket statement?” You raised an eyebrow, “Because I wasn’t going to murder you, but those are fighting words.”

“What do you think?” He was goading you now, waiting to see if you’d back down from whatever this was, if there was a line you were going to draw.

“I think I could kick your ass.” You sat up on your knees.

“Yeah?” He looked at you, skeptical. You couldn’t think of what to say, couldn’t tell what this was, or what would happen if you crossed the physical boundary into his space.

You threw caution to the wind for the second time within the hour. 

You launched yourself towards him, and he let his arm fall to the side, lying on his back as you clambered to straddle him. Grabbing his wrists, you pulled his hands above his head, letting out a small huff of victory.

You couldn’t recall a time where you’d ever been this close to Damien before. There was a pool of heat in your stomach that you tried to write off as a burst of energy—adrenaline hitting in the middle of the night—while you rationalized being in this position with him. With your friend. It was just wrestling; a playful act among companions. You’d seen people do it all the time in the office. Courtney put Spencer in a headlock the other day—you’d seen her do it to Ian the day before that. It was fine. It wasn’t anything other than roughhousing.

It didn’t have to be anything more.

“I told you.” You gloated.

“I was in a vulnerable position. This is hardly what I would call a fair fight.”

“Don’t be a sore loser.”

“I’m being a sore loser?” He smiled, all teeth, and you were about to respond, tell him that you had won, fair and square, and that if he wanted to lose again, you’d grant him the rematch he clearly wanted so desperately.

Instead, he flipped you onto your back, knee between your legs and one hand pinning your wrists above your head just as you had done to him.

“Never let your guard down,” He laughed, and you bit back a smile.

“That’s not fair.”

“That’s what a sore loser would say.” He taunted, and you thought you felt his grip tighten around your wrists.

You looked up at him, unsure where to go from here.

Surely, you’d separate, turn over and away from each other, fall asleep, and then act like nothing was different tomorrow—because nothing was different. Nothing had changed. This was nothing.

But you liked the way he looked like this; his knee caught between the V of your own legs, the muscles in his arm tense from the grip he had on you, his other hand planted on the bed at your side, just close enough for you to feel the heat radiating off of it. You watched him swallow.

“Tell me to let go,” he whispered, his voice gravelly. “Tell me to let go and I will.”

You didn’t move. You didn’t make a sound. All you could do was stare up at him, before you reminded yourself to speak, to say anything, to finally reveal what it was you wanted.

“Kiss me.” You were worried he wouldn’t hear it over the wind, words coming out small and breathy, but you saw the way the muscle in his jaw clicked.

He was on you instantly, colliding with you in a frenzied kiss. He let go of your wrists, and your hands came down to trail over his back, pulling him closer to you by the back of his neck. He bit at your bottom lip, and the sharp sting was counteracted quickly by the way his tongue darted over it, exploring you while you whined underneath him. He licked into your mouth, and you sucked at his tongue before letting his exploration continue, your hands reaching under the back of his shirt in an attempt to get closer, to let him suffocate you with his attention.

He pulled back, lips pink and cheeks blushed, his hand coming to hold your jaw and encourage you to open wider. He spit into your open mouth, before pushing on your jaw, encouraging you to close it. You did, swallowing his offering before opening your mouth again, sticking out your tongue as proof of your deed.

“Fuck,” he growled, hand still on your face when he reconnected his mouth to yours. It was needier now; sloppy and wet, and you could taste him perfectly like this, your spit mingling with his, licking into his mouth to get as much of him as you could.

He trailed down your body, leaving kisses on any skin available to him. The collar of your shirt exposed your clavicle, and he bit into the skin around it, sinking his teeth into you just enough for red marks to appear, before sucking a bruise onto the skin of the bone.

“Camera,” you reminded him haphazardly, “Nothing the camera can see—” You combed your fingers through his hair, pulling hard to ensure he listened to your warning, and he groaned at the pressure, removing his mouth from you.

“Right,” He was breathing hard, thumb rubbing circles on the bruise he had just made, low enough on your chest that your shirt would cover it—a secret between the two of you. He leaned back down, lips wrapping around the pulse point below your ear and peppering gentle kisses on it. You ground your hips onto him, his knee still planted between your thighs, stabilizing his position, and you felt the fabric of your pajamas catch perfectly on your clit, letting out a soft moan.

Damien watched, lips parted, as you bucked your hips against his thigh; some area of his brain wanted to let you continue, let you bring yourself to the edge by using him like this, but that was outweighed by the part of him that wanted so desperately to be the one making you cum; he wanted to make you fall apart, wanted to see how pretty you looked when he was making you feel good.

He moved his leg, effectively straddling you, and you let out a whimper of discontent, disappointed by the sudden loss of friction when you had been so close to what you needed.

“I know, baby,” his voice was cloying, clearly finding your whines enticing in a twisted sort of way; call it sadistic, but he didn’t want you putting in any work—he wanted to be in charge of all your pleasure. “I’ll let you finish, I promise,” he licked a stripe up your neck. “Tell me what you need.”

“Want your mouth,” you were quick to answer.

“Ask nicely.”

“Please, I want your mouth on me Damien—please.”

“You want my mouth?” He nipped at your jawline, “Want me to fuck you with my tongue?”

You nodded, entranced by how devious he looked, pupils blown out, swallowing the moon’s reflection, silver hair messy from being pulled on and falling over his eyes, skin flushed pink; you were absolutely overcome with need watching him at his most primal.

He moved further down your body, situating himself between your legs and tucking his fingers beneath the waistband of your pajamas; you lifted your hips when he began to pull the fabric off of you, slowly, and you tried in vain to push your pants off faster.

“Uh-uh,” he moved his hands to cover yours, “be patient.”

You removed your hands from the flannel waistband, placing them over your chest and trying to crane your neck to watch him. It felt like an eternity before he finally let the fabric pool around your ankles, sliding them off with help from you kicking gently against the air. If ever there was a time to be thankful that you didn’t sleep in underwear, it would be now.

Moving back towards your core, he pulled your legs over his shoulders, still concentrated on making you comfortable even while most of his focus was on your naked cunt.

“Do you always get wet this quickly?” He let you hook your knee behind his head, looking up at you from between your legs.

“Shut up,” you felt suddenly embarrassed, as if it was only now, with his breath fanning your spread legs, that he had become suspicious of your attraction to him.

“That’s a no, then?” He smirked and your embarrassment dissipated when you saw the prideful smile.

Damien’s eyes shifted then from your face to your inner thigh, turning his head to suck marks on it just as he had on your neckline. He bit into the supple flesh, just hard enough to leave an outline of his teeth, before kissing bruises onto the same spots. You let out a contented sigh, and he squeezed your other thigh before turning his head again to repeat the process on that side. Licking stripes up your legs and into the joint of your thigh, he stopped short of where you wanted him, letting out a hum every time you exhaled in frustration at the lack of attention your cunt was getting.

He liked riling you up, seeing your brow furrow and your cheeks redden in frustration at not getting what you had asked for.

He relented when you started whispering pleas of his name, hand buried in his hair and pulling gently at the roots for him to use his mouth on you like he had said he would. You gasped at the contact of his tongue on your clit, the way he flattened the muscle to slide over you before moving it in slow circles over your bud. His fingers dug bruises into your thighs, holding them over his shoulders and pulling you closer to him when he finally started licking circles around your hole.

“Fuck—fuck!” you couldn’t get another word out, too focused on the way he dove into you and lapped up your slick. He was messy but masterful, letting your juices and his spit trail down over the curve of your ass while making your back arch off the mattress, hand still in his hair and unsure of whether you wanted to push him down further or pull him off due to the overwhelming sensation.

The sounds were pornographic, wet and filthy, and when you pulled harder on his hair he let out a low growl that displayed his pleasure while heightening your own.

“You taste so fucking sweet,” he groaned into you, spitting onto your dripping cunt before indulging once more in your taste. You became aware of the way his hips ground into the mattress with every flick of his tongue and every mewl you let out. “Cum for me like this, baby, can you do that? Let me taste it?”

You threw your head back at his words, pressure building in your stomach at the way he clearly got so much enjoyment from making you feel good, paired with the way his teeth grazed your clit, sucking on you until you saw stars and then pulling away to do it again. One of his hands fell from your leg, and he brought it to your cunt, spitting once before pushing two fingers in. You squirmed, moaning, as he curled them towards him and fluttered them over the spongy spot inside of you. He dragged his tongue over your clit one more time, and you were catapulted over the edge, dizzy with lust, pleasure coursing through you like an electric current.

Damien moved back up the bed, hugging you to him while you trembled with the aftershocks of your orgasm, muttering words of praise.

“Did so fucking good,” he kissed the top of your head, “Such a good girl—was that ok? Are you alright?” His thumb ran over your cheek, and he dipped his head down to leave kisses in its wake.

You let out a shaky breath, adjusting your position to throw your leg over his side before wrapping your arms around him to pull him down for a kiss.

“So good.” You muttered, tasting yourself on his lips. You rolled your hips against his lazily, reaching down to trail your hand over his evident bulge. “More.”

“Yeah?” He groaned, taking in the way your hand felt on his clothed cock.

“Please.” You looked up at him through your lashes.

He reconnected his lips to yours, moving slowly and swallowing your sounds.

“You want me like this?” He whispered, hands sweeping over your body, “Gonna let me fuck you into the mattress?”

Your hips bucked on their own accord, and you nodded feverishly. He sat up, pulling you up after him, and reached under the hem of your shirt to help you remove it. He got distracted by the sight of your chest, the swell of your breasts and the way you looked at him expectantly.

“You’re so pretty,” he almost laughed, absolutely delighted by you, as he leaned down to suck a bruise on the valley between your breasts. He nipped at the pillowy skin, teeth skimming your nipple when he took it into his mouth, barely putting pressure on it until your hand flew to his hair in a gesture to make him continue, to give you more. You whimpered, sitting on your knees with his face pressed against your chest.

He stood up, removing his shirt quickly before untying the cord of his pants.

“There’s really nothing sexier than a man in pajama bottoms,” he made a face as he fumbled with the knot of the string, finally undoing it with a sharp tug.

“I’d have to agree.” You shot him a smug look and he shook his head, smiling. He situated himself back on the mattress, pushing you onto your back and kissing your neck. You let out a quiet yelp when you landed on the pillows, laughing softly. You still felt dizzy, the entire situation leaving you completely shocked but admittedly thrilled, and when you saw him looking down at you, you felt words leave your mouth before you could filter them.

“I’ve wanted this for a really long time.”

Damien smiled again, kissing your forehead before dipping down to trail kisses over your jaw. “Me too.”

“So, uh,” You let your hand wander down his body, stopping at the base of his cock and teasing your fingers around it, “You gonna fuck me into the mattress now?”

He grabbed your hand, and in a parallel to the situation that got you here, pinned it above your head.

“Is that what you want?” His pupils swallowed his irises, giving him the appearance of someone completely lost in desire. It made you greedy for more.

“Yeah.” You breathed.

“Tell me.”

“I want you to fuck me.”

“No. The whole thing. Say it.”

“I want…” You felt dirty saying it out loud, and that was half the appeal, “I want you to fuck me into the mattress.”

“That’s right. You gonna beg for it?”

You liked him like this, so cocky and domineering. It made you feel breathless, head swimming with what was to come. Dominance looked good on him.

“Please, Damien,” you swallowed, squirming slightly in anticipation.

“C’mon, you can do better than that.” He practically scoffed, “Beg.”

“Fuck me, please,” you felt yourself growing frustrated, and you could feel your heart beating in your cunt. “I was so good—I’ve been so good, please, I’ll take what you give me I promise just—please, please fuck me.”

The hand that wasn’t wrapped around your wrist fisted his cock, and you tilted your head to watch him stroke himself while he lined up with your entrance. You whined, hoping that maybe it would make him move faster.

“What did I say about being patient?” He chided, and your head fell back onto the pillows.

“Please, Damien.” You couldn’t have hidden your eagerness if you tried.

“One more time.” You felt the tip of his cock between your folds, collecting your slick and nudging your entrance.

“Please—yes!” You gasped when he pushed his hips forward, eyes rolling back slightly at the way he filled you completely in one stroke.

“Good girl.” He grabbed your other hand, now pinning both your wrists down over your head, giving him a full view of your body underneath him. “You feel good? Worth the wait?”

You nodded your head, mouth open and eyes wide, mesmerized by the stretch and the feeling of him seated deep inside of you.

“Tell me—use your words,” His own patience was wearing thin, and you could tell he was waiting for the opportunity to fuck you the way he wanted to.

“Feels so good, Damien,” you nodded again, “Move—fuck me, please.”

He exhaled, content with your answer and subsequent request. He drew his hips back far enough to nearly pull out of you, before slamming back against you and bottoming out completely. You let out a moan, and his free hand covered your mouth.

“Gotta be quiet, baby” he whispered.

You nodded underneath his hand, remembering all the other people in the house, and he pulled it away from your mouth before pushing two fingers through your lips.

“That’ll keep you busy, right?” He smiled and you moaned softly around his fingers, tongue circling them behind your lips.

Damien copied his initial sharp thrust, pushing into you with enough force to move you up the bed repeatedly, watching the way your breasts bounced with the movement. Letting go of your hands briefly, he brought one of your legs up to his shoulders, deepening the position, and you whimpered around the fingers in your mouth.

“God, you’re fucking perfect. Sound so pretty, baby” he groaned, grinding his hips against you to get a feel for how deep he was inside of you, “So pretty letting me fuck you like this.”

He took his fingers from your mouth, toying with your nipples and using the residual spit to lubricate his movements. His other hand left your wrists, focused now on holding himself above you while he drove in and out of you.

You squirmed under him, overstimulated and needy, and your newly freed hands grabbed at whatever they could hold onto; one gripping his arm, nails leaving crescents in his skin, while the other fisted the sheets, and Damien took note of the way your face contorted when his thrusts became rougher.

“You like that?” His voice was as kind as it usually was, but with an edge to it now, driving into you hard. “That feel good, baby?”

Your moans were increasingly high-pitched, and all you could offer was a jumble of reassuring whines. You pulled him down by the back of his neck, lips meeting for a feverish, passionate kiss. He bit your bottom lip, keeping it between his teeth and tugging at it, before letting his tongue push forward into your mouth.

You moaned into him, his cock pushing against your most sensitive spot. You arched your back, silently begging for more, and he followed your unspoken instructions, fingers finding your clit between your bodies and kneading tight circles over it.

You let out a ragged cry of his name, cunt squeezing around him as you came; he pulled you into him, arm wrapping under your body, to kiss you fervidly, groaning at how you felt clenching so tightly around him.

“That’s right, baby, cum for me,” he fucked you through your high; long, deep strokes at a much slower pace bringing you back down to earth, “Good fucking girl.”

“Oh my god,” you mumbled, drowsy and overstimulated, happy to be enveloped by him.

“Where do you want me, baby?” His thrusts picking back up slightly, eager for his own release.

“Anywhere you want,” you kissed up the side of his neck, whining at the feel of his cock as he dragged his hips back before sinking back into you, “Wanna make you cum, please.” You rubbed your cheek against his, the friction from his short stubble soothing you.

“You want me to cum for you?” Even now, he kept teasing, “My good girl wants me to cum for her? So fucking greedy.”

You whined, wordlessly, trying to move your hips to match his thrusts, intent on pleasing him the way he had you.

“Spit,” he offered you his hand, and you licked his palm before spitting into it.

He squeezed you tight, using the arm still underneath you to lift you up slightly and get a few last thrusts in as deep as he could manage. Upon pulling out, he fucked his fist with the hand you had prepared for him, spilling over your cunt. You whimpered at the feeling, and the thought of his cum mingling with your own between your legs.

Breathing heavy and uneven, Damien took a moment to collect himself. He leaned over the side of the bed, finding his discarded shirt and grabbing it; he wiped between your legs, careful to go slow and gentle over your more sensitive spots. He threw the shirt back over the side of the bed when he deemed you properly cleaned up.

“Thank you,” you spoke up, nuzzling into his side.

He hummed, kissing your head and moving stray hairs from your face. “Was that…it wasn’t too much, was it?”

“Damien,” you looked up at him incredulously, “It was perfect.”

“Not too rough?”

“The perfect amount of rough.”

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, rubbing his thumb over your skin. “Did you mean what you said?”

“That I wanted to make you cum?”

“Well—mm. Kinda gathered that that was the truth. No, I mean, when you said you’ve wanted this…for a while.”

“Of course I meant it.” You fidgeted with the fingers he had draped around your shoulder. “Did you mean it when you—”

“Yeah.” He cut you off.

“You didn’t know what I was going to ask.”

“What were you going to ask?” He quipped.

“Now I’m not telling you.” You rolled your eyes, playfully turning away from him. Damien used the hand he had on your shoulder as leverage to pull you back against him, and you landed against his chest.

“Did I mean it when I said I wanted this, too?” He finished your question for you, “Yeah. I meant it. One hundred percent, I did.” He pressed his cheek against the crown of your head, “Was worried that wanting more was a, I dunno, like a…thought it would make you uncomfortable. So, I just—not that I don’t like being your friend—but I tried to behave myself. Y’know? Even though...” His gaze flicked over your face, "I always wanted more."

“Is this where you tell me that you orchestrated this whole thing by turning down the heat in here?” You joked, tired and satisfied and so utterly content that he, too, wanted more than the friendship you had cultivated with one another—thrilled that you had been on the same page all along; the initial paranoia over the implications of being attracted to the other, and now basking in the relief that your affection was mutual.

“I’m flattered that you think I have that kind of forethought. But no,” he laughed. “Just got lucky.”

“In so many respects.” You giggled, listening to his heartbeat against your cheek.

“Thanks for letting me stay.” He held you tighter, as if a loose grip would cause you to slip away from him.

“Thanks for staying.”

[nightisawkward]

"Another challenger… it has been ages. Perhaps you have forgotten how this game is played. Allow me to remind you."

Happy halloween fellas!!! Hermitcraft/Life SMP inscryption AU ft. Boatem gang I cooked up awhile ago but never got around to posting B-) Wild life smp has reminded me how mentally ill I am about putting these Guys in Situations so here I am

Mild to major inscryption spoilers under the cut!

For those familiar with the game, the general roles are:

Luke Carter - "Challenger"/Grian

In this AU Grian is still a trading card-based youtuber who's recording all this nonsense going down real time as in canon, but has closer ties to the GameFuna company equivalent, named "WatcherCorp". His old college roommate/best mate Jimmy went to work for them, but mysteriously passed away in a fire at their headquarters. He found the Inscryption cards in Jimmy's leftover personal belongings a few years after his death, and decided that the best way to honor him would be to make a video featuring the project he put his heart and soul into... in more ways than one.

Key difference from canon Inscryption: Grian's mind is sucked into the game of Inscryption whenever he is playing. He is able to enter and leave the game at will, but he doesn't realize this until he first dies to Leshy/Pearl and ejects himself unconsciously out of fear of dying. The only reason he realizes he isn't hallucinating is because his camcorder footage proves he actually enters the game. He obtains the "Watcher's Eye" during Act 1, which he keeps for all future acts and allows him to see things he shouldn't see as a Challenger.

P03 - "Scarred Stoat"/Scar

Despite being the one who convinces Grian and the other Scrybes to stand up against Pearl, no one seems eager to spend any more time with the conniving conman than absolutely necessary. This may have something to do with Scar's history of backstabbing and cheating both Scybes and Challengers whenever it benefits him most. Which makes it rather unfortunate that Grian is must spend time with Scar in order to gather as much information as possible.

In the beginning, Scar and Grian do not get along in the slightest. Grian finds Scar's attitude too "fake", while Scar finds Grian's "cowardice" to be irritating. At some point, the two go from passive-aggressive fighting, to a grudging truce, to more friendly, lighthearted banter. Neither person seems to trust the other, but it doesn't seem to stop the two from being ✨saddled with unnecessary feelings✨. Scar's Act 3 world is much like Leshy's Act 1 world, with much more emphasis put on environmental storytelling and general Vibes than actual gameplay. Even if his game is a smokescreen for his true goal of Ascension, he feels strangely obligated to give Grian his best shot.

Scar in his proper Scrybe form appears more steampunk than canon P03. Think of a Grumbot with Scar's boatem base aesthetic and tons of missing nuts and bolts. P03's bastardous tendencies+ Scar's steampunk base made this role perfect for him.

Magnificus - "Horned Wolf"/Impulse

Impulse is a talented artist and an even more talented programmer. His future sight stems from his literal sight: His eyes are able to see read the code veil behind Inscryption, allowing him to predict likely futures based on what code is running. He often laments his status as an NPC, claiming that if he were given administrative privileges and the actual ability to modify source code he would have been able to escape Inscryption long ago.

He is rather absent in Act 2, focusing on finishing his "artwork" as soon as possible. He uses his brush to create a menagerie magical creatures with strange abilities in hopes that using one in battle might trigger a unfixable bug, allowing him to rip a hole through the source code. It is unclear whether he was able to accomplish his goal before Act 3 roles around, but it seems like Scar's method of Ascension seems awfully similar to Impulse's... perhaps a sneaky spy was able to steal Impulse's information?

As a proper Scrybe, he resembles a walking mop or a yak with overgrown fur. Most of his features are indistinguishable, save for his small horns and his glowing goat eyes.

Lemora - "Distinguished Stinkbug"/Mumbo

Mumbo is by far the most easygoing Scrybe in the cast. While he would greatly prefer an eternal slumber over yet another temporary ceasefire amongst the Scrybes, he is willing to work with the others in Act 1 simply because he finds his stinkbug form too uncomfortable to sleep in. Mumbo's goal is simple: to delete the game of Inscryption, and therefore himself, and finally rest. However, finds the constant power struggles in the world of Inscryption rather tiring and simply can't be bothered to make a grab for power himself to achieve this goal. This hasn't stopped him from asking Grian to destroy floppy disk of Inscryption. Unfortunately for him, the temptation of the o̷l̵d̷ ̶d̸a̶t̷ [REDACTED] mysteries within Inscryption are simply too powerful for Grian to resist.

As a proper Scrybe, he looks almost exactly like Mumbo's minecraft skin: A pale, mustached man with blood red eyes who resembles a vampire. Mumbo denies all vampire allegations. While he is the most "normal" looking Scrybe, Grian would still hesitate to call him "human" ...there's just something slightly off about his appearance that sets him on edge.

Leshy - "Game Master"/Pearl

Pearl is an unforgiving gamemaster that puts more emphasis on providing the player a challenge than her canon counterpart. After her self-proclaimed "tutorial", there is no more handholding and she gives Grian an absolute hellish time. Grian is only able to get a slight edge when he discovers all of the Scrybes, who provide him with stategy help to even the playing field. It is unclear whether Pearl actually enjoys running her Act 1 game or not: she seems to derive an animalistic pleasure from defeating Grian, but there are times where she seems tired and fed up with the endless gameplay loop and intentionally throws during key fights. She switches between manic and depressed at the drop of a hat.

During Act 2, she barely even tries to give Grian a challenge, allowing him to progress straight to her boss fight without any side quests to "get it over with quicker". She seems to hold a deep grudge against Scar for some reason, which is the only thing that motivates her to take action to stop him during Act 3.

Mysteriously, Grian finds a burned and unusable Unicorn card within her Act 1 cabin. Upon discovery, Scar immediately suggests that Grian leave it where he found it. Some things are best left forgotten, after all...

[azriels-shadowsinger]

Game Night (Azriel x Reader)

summary: You and Azriel have been kinda flirty for a while, but it has never actually gone anywhere. When game night turns into strip poker… well i’m sure you can guess where this is gonna go.

wc: 1.5k

a/n: i haven’t written anything in a long while bc ive been kinda very depressed so this may suck. also thank yall so much for 200 followers!!

!!warning: suggestiveness at the end.

The males should have known it was a bad idea when you four females insisted on the game. Mor had oh so innocently suggested a game night, after which Nesta randomly got the idea to play poker out of nowhere, followed by immediate approval from you and Feyre. Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel had wrongfully assumed that you all had suddenly gained interest in the game and wanted to learn for fun, so they agreed.

The night started out wholesome. You were ‘learning’ the basic rules of the game while losing a decent amount of money. As expected, Rhys was trying to help Feyre as she kept losing money to his brothers. After several rounds of defeat and many more rounds of drinks, the males started to notice that you four were losing less and less. Actually… you were all holding the majority of the chips by this point. Azriel, in his usual perceptive manner, accused you four of cheating and hustling them. You and Mor couldn’t help but break out laughing.

“I’m sorry! It was just too easy!” You said between giggles.

“Especially when Rhys started telling Feyre his cards in her mind so she wouldn’t lose, which she immediately told to us!” Mor laughed loudly. Feyre gave a sheepish grin and Nesta only smirked while pulling her most recent winning to her pile. Rhys, Cass, and Az couldn’t help but to laugh, commending you for being able to trick them. Cassian, however, insists that they were going easy on you the whole time.

“Well, it’s on now. No more holding back, right boys?” Cassian says with a smug grin while dealing new cards to the table.

“It shouldn’t be too hard to win, now that I figured out each of their tells.” Azriel stated matter of factly while peaking at his cards. His shadows swirl around him, blocking anyone from being able to see the hand he was dealt.

“Oh really? You think you can tell when we’re bluffing? I think you’re overestimating those spy abilities, Az. You haven’t called any of my bluffs correctly so far.” He shrugs. “I think we may need to make this game more interesting since you three claim you’re going to actually try now. I’m thinking we raise the bets to-“

“Let’s play strip poker!” Cassian bellows, obviously drunk, and cutting you off before you can say anything else. Rhys exchanges a look with Feyre. “I think that Feyre darling and I are going to retire for the night before we lose more of our money or our clothes. Goodnight everyone!” He laughs. They throw their cards on the table and winnow away, leaving just you, Nesta, Mor, Azriel, and Cassian at the table.

Cassian stares expectantly at Nesta. “Cmon, Nes! Say you’ll play!” She sighs dramatically and agrees. “Fine. Only if Y/N, Mor, and Azriel all agree to play too.” Your face turns red. While you don’t doubt your poker abilities, the thought of stripping in front of Azriel… or worse, seeing him half naked, makes your heart race. You and Azriel have only ever gone as far as flirting with each other, but these Illyrians are always flirtatious, so you don’t think it means anything. Regardless, your mind wanders to the mental image of a shirtless Azriel, sparring in the training ring this morning. It’s always so hard not to stare. His abs, his arms, his wings…

“Y/N? Are you playing or not?” Mor questions, pulling you from your daydream. You realize everyone has agreed but you now.

“Sure, whatever.” You say quieter than before, still slightly blushing. You look at your cards nervously, praying to the Cauldron for a good hand. Luckily, you get it. The round goes on, and eventually Cassian is the first to lose an item of clothing, opting to lose his shirt and making a big display of removing it.

An hour later, you have all had several more drinks, everyone has discarded a couple items of clothing (except for Cassian who was down to only his boxers and his left sock), Mor got tired and left, and you were focusing way too closely on one of your poker chips in an attempt to not stare at Azriel.

Cassian flips the last card and… it’s not what you need. You bite your lip nervously, pushing several chips to the middle of the table while trying to maintain a confident façade. “I raise.”

Cassian and Nesta both fold, leaving just you and Azriel. You feel his eyes on you, probably trying to tell if you’re bluffing. Your skin heats under his gaze. Trying to appear more confident, you meet his stare, only to notice he’s not staring at your face, but rather a bit lower. You blush and Cassian clears his throat. “Uh, your move, Az.” Azriel immediately looks away, staring back at his cards.

“Um, I fold.” He mutters and tosses his cards on the discard pile, and you can’t help but notice the way his other hand is clenching and flexing under the table.

“Y/N wins! Az, looks like you’re down to your boxers now!” Cassian slurs slightly. Your eyes go wide and you give a panicked look to Nesta.

“Cass, I think it’s time for us to head home. I’m tired.” She gives him a look that he obviously must recognize because he is very quick to leave, obviously excited to get home. They say goodbye and head out, leaving just you and Azriel.

You stand to gather your things, but Azriel stops you. “Are we done playing, sweetheart?” You feel his eyes trail down your half-exposed body.

“You can keep your pants on, Shadowsinger. It’s late and I’m drunk. Plus, if we play another round then one of us will end up a bit more naked than friends should be around each other.” You laugh awkwardly. Azriel’s eyes darken slightly and he leans in to whisper in your ear. “Scared you’ll lose?” You shudder at the closeness and the feeling of his breath on you.

“No. I just don’t think you want me to find out that the wingspan theory isn’t true.” You quip back with a raised eyebrow. He lets out a short laugh and sits back down. “Deal the cards.” He says smugly.

You deal the cards, trying to ignore the tension thick in the air. What the hell is he doing? How are you supposed to act friendly and hide your feelings if you see him naked? How is he going to react if he sees you without a bra? You deal the last card and look at your hand. Not terrible, but definitely not great. You bite your lip nervously. The round plays out and it’s time to place the final bets. You make your bet and then look to Azriel, biting your bottom lip nervously. He studies his cards, then sets them down to look at you.

“You wanna know something, Y/N?” He picks up a poker chip and spins it between his fingers. Gods, those fingers. “You bite your lip when you’re nervous. Did you know that?” You freeze. “And while it has been rather advantageous to know when you’re bluffing this whole game, I do find it kind of cute.” He slides all of his chips into the middle pile. “I knew you were bluffing the last round. And I know you are now too.” His voice is low and full of confidence. Your face is completely red now as he flips his cards over. Royal flush.

You turn your cards over in defeat and he grins. “I win.” He says smugly. He stands and saunters towards you, caging you between his arms in your chair. You look up at him, and you can see the silent question in his eyes. Is this okay? You nod softly and he smirks.

“As the winner, I think it’s only fair that I get to claim my prize. May I?” He gently slides your bra strap down your shoulder. This is actually happening. Weeks of flirty words and lustful glances, leading to whatever is about to happen.

“Rules are rules.” You maintain eye contact and reach behind to unclasp your bra. He grabs your wrist, guiding it back down and reaching behind you himself. His fingers softly trail up your spine, leaving goosebumps behind, before he reaches the clasp and unhooks it. Your bra falls to the floor and Azriel’s eyes roam over you hungrily.

“Gods, you are even more beautiful than I imagined.” He gently guides you to stand, walking you back to the wall and pressing you against it. “I have wanted to do this for so long.” He whispers against your skin before moving his lips to yours. He kisses you with no restraint. One hand cups your face while the other moves up your side. You melt into his touch, savoring his taste. A small moan leaves your mouth, causing him to growl softly.

Azriel pulls away for a moment to say something, but before he can, you hear footsteps in the hall. Quickly, you rush to grab your clothes before anyone can see you. Moments later, whoever it was walks past the room towards the kitchen. You let out a breath, continuing to get dressed.

You give a look to Azriel, who had already managed to get fully dressed somehow. He can read the question in your eyes. Now what? Azriel reaches out a scarred hand toward you. “We can keep playing the game in my room.” He smirks. You take his hand and you two quickly head out, leaving the cards and poker chips on the table.

idk what this was. honestly it was a WIP from months ago and i’m not sure if I love how it ended up but whatever i just am trying to write again :)

[kokoch4n3l]

'•.¸♡BUY ME THE MOON࿐ྂ SANO "MIKEY" MANJIRO x f!READER

TWO — ribbons in my hair

chapter summary: your world collides with Manjiro's in the shadows of your father's mansion in the woods, where 'innocence' meets cruelty in a dangerous dance

chapter warnings: dark content 18+, inaccurate depiction of politics and political climate, unreliable narrator(reader), corruption, objectification, threatening, loneliness, isolation, gang violence, use of weapons(guns), murder, blood and gore, slight infantilization, kissing, making out, cheating, fingering(f), mentions of masturbation

word count: 9842

masterlist | previous | chapter 3

His voice, deep and gravelly, sends shivers down your spine as it reverberates through the silence of the night. The way he says "princess" makes your heart skip a beat, a rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins. You're acutely aware of the heat emanating from his body, the scent of his cologne mingling with the smoke from the bonfire below. It's intoxicating and overwhelming, and you find yourself utterly captivated by this enigmatic man standing before you.

But even as desire flares within you, a voice in the back of your mind whispers a warning. This man, Sano Manjiro, is dangerous. You can see it in the way he carries himself, in the aura of power and authority that surrounds him like a cloak. He's not someone to be trifled with, not someone you should be getting involved with. And yet, there's a part of you that's drawn to him like a moth to a flame, unable to resist the magnetic pull of his presence. But as a cool breeze card through your hair you realize that you've been caught, not just observing the scene below, but also caught off guard by this unexpected intrusion into your secluded world. You try to summon some semblance of composure, but your heart is racing, and your mind is racing even faster, trying to come up with some explanation for why you were spying on the bonfire. "Who are you?" you manage to squeak out, your voice barely above a whisper, even though you know exactly who this man is

Sano Manjiro doesn't answer, just continues to stare at you with those intense eyes of his, as if trying to read your thoughts. You swallow hard, feeling the weight of his gaze like a physical presence pressing down on you. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he speaks, his voice low and rough, sending shivers down your spine. "What are you doing out here, princess?" Manjiro asks, his tone laced with a hint of amusement.

You bristle at the condescending nickname, but you force yourself to maintain your composure. "I could ask you the same thing," you retort, trying to inject some semblance of authority into your voice.

He smirks, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "Touché" he says, his grip on you loosening slightly. 

You take the opportunity to straighten up, pushing away from the railing and crossing your arms defensively across your chest. "So, are you going to tell me what's going on down there?" you ask, nodding towards the bonfire below. "Or am I just supposed to guess?"

He chuckles, the sound sending a strange fluttering sensation through your chest. "Let's just say it's a little... business venture" he replies cryptically, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued despite yourself. "Business venture, huh? Looks more like a midnight ritual to me," you quip, unable to resist a bit of sass.

He laughs a deep, throaty sound that sends a shiver down your spine. "Well, you're not entirely wrong," he admits, his smirk widening into a grin. "But I'm afraid that's all you're going to get out of me, princess. Some secrets are better left untold."

You straighten your shoulders, watching as his eyes scan you. He does so quickly as if to not let you know he was checking you out but you catch him anyway. "You didn't tell me what your name is and uh... How do you know today's my birthday...?"

Manjiro walks back inside, scanning the inside of your room. "I have all eyes on Japan, [y/n]. Of course, I know who you are" He picks up your Miffy plushie off your bed "I'm Sano Manjiro..."

His voice trails off as he lifts the plushie, examining it with a faint smirk playing on his lips. You watch him warily, unsure of what to make of this enigmatic man who's suddenly invaded your secluded world. His presence is both intoxicating and intimidating, a dangerous combination that sends your heart racing and your mind spinning. "Sano Manjiro" you repeat, the name rolling off your tongue, feigning disbelief 

You know him obviously but earlier you just had to pretend not to know who he was just by glancing at his face. Everyone in Japan knows him. He was the leader of Bonten, the most powerful gang in the country, a man feared and respected in equal measure. And now, he's standing in your bedroom, holding your plushie like it's the most natural thing in the world. You shake your head slightly, trying to shake off the surrealness of the situation. "What do you want?" you ask, your voice coming out sharper than you intended. 

You're not used to feeling so out of control, so vulnerable. But with Manjiro, it's like he's stripped away all your defences, leaving you exposed and powerless. Feeling like that is something you do not like because money can't fix it. Manjiro's gaze flickers up to meet yours, his eyes dark and unreadable. "I want to talk," he says simply, his voice low and gravelly. "I want to know why the president's daughter is spying on my men."

You bristle at the accusation, feeling a surge of indignation rise within you. "I wasn't spying," you protest, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I was just... curious."

Manjiro raises an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. "Curious, huh?" he says, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Well, you certainly have a strange way of satisfying your curiosity, princess."

You flush even deeper, feeling a surge of frustration at his patronizing tone. "I'm not a child," you snap, your voice coming out sharper than you intended. "And I don't appreciate being talked down to."

Manjiro's smirk widens, a hint of challenge flashing in his eyes. "Is that so?" he says, his voice low and dangerous. "Well, forgive me for assuming. After all, you are the president's little secret, aren't you?"

You bristle at the mention of your status as the president's hidden daughter, feeling a surge of anger bubbling up inside you. "That's none of your business," you snap, your voice tinged with defiance. "And neither is what I do in my own home."

Manjiro's gaze darkens, his expression unreadable. "Everything that happens in Japan is my business," he says, his voice low and dangerous. "Including what goes on in the president's secret mansion."

You swallow hard, feeling a surge of fear coursing through your veins. You know you're outmatched, outgunned. But you refuse to let Manjiro intimidate you. You may be the president's secret daughter, but you're no pushover. Fuck, Sano Manjiro isn't supposed to know who you are. Nobody is. It's the first time in your life that someone knows who you are and it's damn scary. You don't like this at all no matter how hot Sano Manjiro is. "Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you," you say, your voice trembling slightly. "But I have nothing to say to you."

Manjiro's smirk widens into a full-blown grin, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "We'll see about that," he says, his voice low and dangerous. "We'll see."

You watch as he tugs at the ears of your plushie. "You're not supposed to know who I am..." you say after a moment of silence

It's right then that his smile fades. His demeanour turns cold. Manjiro carelessly throws your plushie back on the bed and steps closer to you once again. He's close, too close in your personal space. "Your father is president now, [y/n]."

His words hang heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the dangerous game being played. Your pulse quickens, fear and anger warring within you. "What does that have to do with me?" you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Manjiro's eyes narrow, his gaze piercing through you. "It means you're a valuable asset," he replies, his tone icy. "And in my world, valuable assets are either protected or exploited."

You feel a chill run down your spine at his words. The reality of your situation crashes down on you, the weight of your father's position and the danger it brings now painfully clear. It's only about 12:35 am, 35 minutes since your father became president and this hot motherfucker is already threatening you. "are you threatening me?" you ask him

Perhaps the rush of emotions you had earlier quickly faded after realizing that this situation is something that you shouldn't be in no matter how much you fantasize about it— no matter how much you've romanticized Sano Manjiro. Earlier when he had you pressed against the dark railing of your balcony, you were no better than those girls online fantasizing about Bonten and the rest of its top executives. But perhaps you were the lucky one to be able to see Sano Manjiro's face in person since there is not one picture of him online. Manjiro's gaze hardens, his eyes narrowing as he studies you. "Call it what you will," he says, his voice cold and indifferent. "But remember this, [y/n]. You may be the president's secret daughter, but you're not untouchable. You're not invincible. And if you think you can hide away in your little mansion and pretend the world doesn't exist, you're sorely mistaken."

His words cut through you like a knife, a harsh reminder of the harsh reality you've been trying so hard to ignore. You may have grown up sheltered and pampered, but you're not naive. You know the world is a cruel and unforgiving place, especially for someone like you, someone caught in the crosshairs of power and politics. "I've invested a lot of money in your father," he says "I know you're so clearly Saimori's favourite which is why he'll probably continue to let you off the hook but now that's he's president I don't want any kind of slip-ups from you. Stay hidden just like you have before"

"I know that already" You mutter

You're infuriated by him. You don't like the way Manjiro is treating you. It's not the usual admiration or jealousy you're used to by your peers at university. You don't like that he's not kissing the damn ground you're walking on or that he's not seething in jealousy at your perfect appearance. You hate it and you want Sano Manjiro so fucking bad but he's not reacting to you in the way you want him to or in the ways you're used to. Why the hell is he treating you the same way as Kaya?

Like a stain?

A mistake.

You completely change your tone. "You have nothing to worry about, Mr. Sano," You say formally and cross your arms over your chest 

Manjiro's expression remains impassive, his eyes boring into yours with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. "Is that so, princess?" he says, his voice laced with a hint of skepticism.

You nod, trying to keep your voice steady despite the racing of your heart. "Yes," you reply, your tone firm and unwavering. "I assure you, I have no intention of causing any trouble for you or your... business ventures."

Manjiro studies you for a long moment, as if trying to gauge the sincerity of your words. Finally, he nods, a hint of approval flickering in his eyes. "Good," he says, his tone softer now, almost... gentle. "Because if you did, well..." He trails off, leaving the threat unspoken but hanging heavy in the air between you.

You swallow hard, feeling a knot of fear tightening in your chest. You may have put on a brave front, but deep down, you know you're no match for someone like Sano Manjiro. He's dangerous, powerful, and utterly unpredictable. And now, you're caught in his web, trapped between your father's position and Manjiro's influence, with no way out. But despite the fear and uncertainty swirling inside you, there's also a strange sense of... excitement. You may not like the way Manjiro is treating you, but there's no denying the magnetic pull he exerts, the intoxicating allure of danger and power. You may be sheltered and naive, but you're not blind. You can see the appeal of someone like Sano Manjiro, someone who defies convention and rules with an iron fist. And deep down, beneath the layers of fear and anger, there's a part of you that's drawn to him like a moth to a flame, unable to resist the pull of his dark charisma.

But for now, you push those thoughts aside, focusing instead on the task at hand. "If there's nothing else, Mr. Sano, I think it's best if you leave," you say, your voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside you.

Manjiro nods, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he turns and heads for the door. "Until next time, princess," he says, his voice a low murmur that sends a shiver down your spine.

And with that, he's gone, leaving you alone in the darkness of your room, your heart still racing and your mind spinning with a thousand questions. What does Manjiro want from you? And more importantly, what are you going to do about it?

One thing is for sure though, another item has just been added to your shopping cart. 

When you woke up the next morning the living room is filled with multiple gift boxes no doubt sent by your father. But it's one that catches your eye. The rest of the boxes are all wrapped in pink wrapping paper with bows but one small box is wrapped in black wrapping paper. You pick that one up first and unwrap it. It's a Vivienne Westwood box. You open the box and find the exact necklace you had been looking at last night, the same that lays idly in your cart because you didn't have enough energy to get up last night and get your father's credit card. It's the Valentina Orb pendant with gold hardware. The red gem in the center glimmers back at you. There is a note in the box too. You unfold it and read:

Happy Birthday Princess —SM

Sano Manjiro's initials are at the end of the note. A surge of conflicting emotions washes over you as you hold the necklace in your hands, the glint of the red gem catching the light. You're both touched and infuriated by the gesture. On one hand, it's a beautiful gift, something you've been eyeing for weeks now. On the other hand, it feels like a reminder of last night, of the encounter with Sano Manjiro that left you feeling shaken and vulnerable.

You toss the note aside, unable to bear the sight of Manjiro's initials staring back at you. Instead, you focus on the necklace, running your fingers over the smooth metal and admiring the intricate design. It's exquisite, a perfect reflection of your Manjiro's wealth and your own desire for luxury.

But as you slip the necklace around your neck, fastening the clasp with trembling fingers, you can't shake the feeling of unease that lingers in the pit of your stomach. What does this gift mean? Is it a peace offering from Manjiro, a way to smooth over the tension between you? Or is it something more sinister,?

You push those thoughts aside, forcing yourself to focus on the present moment. You have enough on your plate as it is, what with your father's newfound presidency and the looming threat of Manjiro's influence. You can't afford to dwell on what-ifs and maybes, not when there are more pressing matters at hand. With a sigh, you turn your attention to the other gifts scattered around the room. There are designer handbags, expensive perfumes, and even a few pieces of jewelry, all carefully selected by your father to celebrate your birthday. But despite the extravagance of the gifts, there's a hollow emptiness that lingers in the air, a reminder of the loneliness that pervades your secluded existence.

You're celebrating your birthday all alone while your father is out their celebrating his win. 

It's fine though. 

You just turned 20, it's no big deal— not as big as a deal of becoming president. 

It's fine that you're alone. You were an introvert anyway and you liked being by yourself. As you survey the lavish gifts spread out before you, a sense of resignation washes over you. It's not the first time you've spent your birthday alone, and it likely won't be the last. You've grown accustomed to the solitude, to the emptiness that pervades your secluded existence.

But even as you try to convince yourself that you're fine with being alone, a small part of you can't help but feel a pang of sadness. Birthdays are supposed to be a time for celebration, a time to be surrounded by loved ones and showered with affection. Yet here you are, surrounded by material possessions but devoid of any real connection.

You shake your head, banishing those thoughts from your mind. You refuse to let yourself dwell on the loneliness, not when there are more important things to focus on. With a sigh, you begin to tidy up the gifts, carefully placing each one back into its respective box. You may be alone on your birthday, but that doesn't mean you can't enjoy the gifts your father has bestowed upon you. After all, you deserve to treat yourself every now and then, even if it's just to fill the void left by the absence of genuine companionship.

But there was no time for self-pity right now. The next time your dad came to see you, you had to talk to him about Sano Manjiro and why the hell he knows you exist. He's not supposed to know. No one is. Your father would no doubt be too busy to answer the phone so all you can do is wait.

It was okay though. Nothing would happen to you. Your father won't let that happen and you know it. 

For now, you smile to yourself as you plan your weekly getaway.

You were about 13 the first time you left the mansion for a purpose that wasn't to go to school. The guards, although fucking huge and strong, were stupid as hell and didn't notice you leaving on your bicycle. You live there and know the locations of all the cameras and the blindspots, of course, you know how to get away undetected.  

Every Saturday night, you'd slip out through the back garden, where the dense foliage provided perfect cover, and make your way to the small town beyond the mansion's sprawling grounds.

Today was no different. You pull on a black hoodie, baggy blue jean shorts, and white Nike Air Force 1s, the casual attire starkly contrasting to the designer outfits and silk pyjamas that filled your wardrobe. With your phone and some cash tucked into your pocket, you head for the garden. The cool nighttime breeze fills your lungs as you navigate the familiar path, your heart beating with the thrill of escape. The road to the town from the mansion is empty. No one has any reason to come down that way. Both sides of the road are filled with dense forest with the occasional street light. You have your own little light on the front of your bike too so you're not too afraid of the dark. You were grown up and the dark was the last thing you had to fear. 

As you ride your bike, the wind whips through your hair and you smile. You've been doing this for years and it was fun(sometimes you wonder how much more fun these bike rides would be if you had a few friends with you like in those coming-of-age movies). The thought of friends joining you on these clandestine escapades lingers in your mind as you pedal harder, the landscape blurring past. It's a fantasy you've entertained more than once, imagining a group of friends laughing and riding alongside you, sharing stories and secrets under the cover of night. But for now, the solitude of your solitary journey brings a strange sense of freedom and peace.

Tonight for some odd reason, the town seems... empty. Of course, it usually was empty anyway considering there was nothing else ahead for miles except for forestry but, it was a little odd. It was never this quiet all the years you had been coming here. Oh well, you shrug and get off your bike, locking it into the bike rack you usually do. You push the odd sense of emptiness from your mind and continue towards your destination—a small, noodle place that stays open late. It's your usual spot, a place where you can blend in with the locals and enjoy a moment of normalcy away from the confines of the mansion. As you walk down the familiar streets, the quietness feels almost eerie, but you convince yourself it's just your imagination playing tricks on you.

You approach the noodle place, the warm, savoury scent wafting out as you push open the door. The small bell above the entrance chimes, a familiar sound that always makes you feel welcomed. Despite the unusual quietness outside, the inside of the noodle shop feels just as cozy as always. You slide into your usual booth by the window, glancing around to see only a few patrons scattered throughout the restaurant. As you wait for your order, you watch the steam rise from the bowls of ramen being served to other customers, the sound of quiet chatter and clinking utensils creating a comforting ambiance. You pull out your phone, absentmindedly scrolling through social media while your mind drifts back to the events of the previous night. Manjiro's unexpected presence, his cryptic warnings, and that beautiful necklace that sits on your clavicle all swirl in your thoughts.

It's about at that time the door chimes again and this time a bigger group enters. You pull the hood of your hoodie over your head and slouch a little in the booth just in case it is some of your father's men. You don't turn around to look at the group nor do you make it seem you're out of place. You simply sit there silently. It wasn't like they'd recognize you without your fancy pyjamas or clothing anyway. The group behind you laughs loudly, acting rowdy as all men do. 

A bowl of hot ramen is placed in front of you, snapping you back to the present. You thank the server and dig in, savouring the rich flavours and the simple pleasure of a meal enjoyed in peace. The warmth of the broth and the familiarity of the routine help ease some of the tension that's been building up inside you.

As you finish eating it is then you hear a familiar voice that makes the whole group shut up. "his first daughter is a snake, the illegitimate one is nothing more than a spoiled puppy"

Oh. 

Oh shit.

It wasn't your father's stupid 2-brain-celled men. It was Sano-fucking-Manjiro and his men. That should be nothing to worry about but there is this voice deep in your head telling you that you couldn't get caught by him— that it would prove to be fatal. You pull out a black medical mask you always kept in your pocket for emergencies and put it on then tug your hood further down. You had to be careful and be quick. "ready for the bill, dear?" the owner asks as you walk over with the empty bowl

You nod as the elderly woman takes the bowl and sets it aside for the men washing the dishes. You silently pull out the wad of cash in your pocket flick through it for the amount and hand it over to her. Just as she's about put it in the register, yelling from Sano Manjiro's group starts and you hear a click, that makes the entire group and noodle shop go silent. Hesitantly, you turn your head in the direction of the sound and that's when you see a gun pressed to Sano Manjiro's temple. 

Your breath catches in your throat, and you instinctively shrink back, trying to make yourself as inconspicuous as possible. The tension in the room is palpable, the air heavy with the threat of violence. Your heart races as you watch the scene unfold, your mind whirring with a mixture of fear and disbelief. Manjiro's reaction is unsettlingly calm. His expression remains neutral, his eyes cold and calculating as he stares down the barrel of the gun. The man holding the weapon is clearly nervous, his hand trembling slightly as he tries to maintain his composure. 

At that moment, a fight breaks out. The owner grabs you by the arm and pulls you behind the counter, shielding you with her frail body. You try to protest but she just hushes you and holds you tighter. The man washing the dishes also ducks as the first bullet goes off. You're shaking and ears are ringing at the loud bangs. You huddle behind the counter, your heart pounding in your chest as the chaos unfolds around you. The sound of gunfire reverberates through the small noodle shop, mingling with the shouts and screams of the patrons. You can feel the elderly woman's grip tighten on your arm. Peeking out from behind the counter, you see Manjiro moving with a predatory grace, effortlessly disarming his attackers and turning the gun on them. The man who had dared to threaten him is now at his mercy, barely alive on the floor as Manjiro towers over him, his expression as cold and unyielding as ever. "Pathetic," Manjiro spits, his voice low and menacing. "You think you can challenge me and live to tell the tale?"

The man's response is a choked sob, his bravado completely shattered. The shop has blood splattered on the walls and multiple men either dead or barely alive. The other paterons in the shop are under tables, trembling, fearing for their lives. The atmosphere in the noodle shop is charged with fear and tension. You remain crouched behind the counter, the elderly woman still clutching your arm, her frail body shielding you from the violence erupting around you. Your mind races, grappling with the sudden turn of events and the realization that you are in the presence of Sano Manjiro, a man far more dangerous than you had ever imagined.

Manjiro's men quickly subdue the rest of the attackers, efficiently neutralizing the threat. The sound of gunfire ceases, replaced by the heavy breathing and muffled cries of the wounded. You feel a surge of relief as the immediate danger passes, but it is quickly replaced by a new wave of anxiety. You know you need to escape before Manjiro notices you, but the fear of drawing attention to yourself keeps you rooted to the spot. "alright boys, round up the witnesses" A smooth deep voice says

You put a hand over your mouth to keep yourself from letting out a sound. shit. "oh c'mon stop crying" Another voice says "we ain't gon' kill ya'. Just gonna have a nice talk"

Your heart races as you hear the voices of Manjiro's men, their footsteps approaching the counter where you're hiding. The elderly woman holding you trembles, her grip tightening as she whispers, "Stay still, dear. Don't move."

Panic surges through you, but you force yourself to stay calm. You can hear the men moving through the shop, pulling out the other patrons from their hiding spots. Your mind races, trying to think of a way out. The door to the kitchen is just a few feet away—if you can make it there, you might have a chance to slip out the back and escape. Just as you're about to make your move, the counter above you is abruptly yanked away, and you're staring up into the cold, dark eyes of one of Manjiro's men. He grabs your arm, yanking you to your feet and pulling you out from behind the counter. The elderly woman cries out in protest, but she's quickly silenced by a sharp glare. "Look what we have here," the man holding you says, a smirk playing on his lips. "A little mouse hiding in the shadows."

You struggle against his grip, but it's no use. He's too strong, and your attempts to break free only make him tighten his hold. The man has slightly feminine feautres downturned droopy lilac eyes and his hair is fashioned in a striped pattern dyed in the colors of purple and blond tied back in a ponytail. He tugs at the medical mask and rips it off your face. "huh. Everyone else here is old except you" The man murmurs then calls out "Mikey, what do we do with the depressed university student"

Manjiro was probably behind you. He hasn't seen your face yet. Maybe you had a chance to get out of this without him seeing you. "Wakasa, that's my depressed university student" Manjiro says in a nonchalant tone

Or not...

You freeze at the sound of Manjiro's voice, your heart pounding in your chest as you slowly turn to face him. His gaze pierces through you, cold and calculating, as if he can see right through the facade you've carefully constructed. Panic surges through you, but you force yourself to maintain a calm exterior, refusing to let him see how rattled you truly are. Wakasa releases his grip on you, allowing you to step away from him. You keep your eyes trained on the floor, avoiding Manjiro's penetrating gaze as you silently curse yourself for getting caught in this mess. You should have been more careful, more vigilant. Oh you shouldn't have even come here tonight, birthday or not. Shit shit shit. Manjiro grabs the front of your hoodie and you stumble forward, a choked gasp leaving your lips. "you guys finish up here" Manjiro says to his men and literally drags you out the shop by the front of your hoodie

Your heart races as Manjiro pulls you out of the shop, his grip firm and unyielding. You stumble forward, struggling to keep up with his long strides as he leads you away from the chaos behind you. The cool night air hits you like a slap in the face, a sharp contrast to the stifling atmosphere inside the noodle shop. You can feel Manjiro's eyes boring into you, his gaze burning into your skin as he assesses you with a scrutiny that sends shivers down your spine.

You're acutely aware of the danger you're in, the precariousness of your situation now that you're alone with Manjiro. But even as fear courses through your veins, there's also a strange sense of exhilaration, a rush of adrenaline that heightens your senses and sharpens your awareness. You know you should be terrified of him, should be doing everything in your power to escape his grasp. And yet, there's a part of you that's drawn to him like a moth to a flame, unable to resist the magnetic pull of his presence. As Manjiro leads you further away from the noodle shop, you can't help but wonder what he plans to do with you. Is he going to interrogate you, threaten you, or worse? The possibilities swirl in your mind, each one more terrifying than the last. But as you steal a glance at his profile, you can't help but notice the faintest hint of amusement playing at the corners of his lips, as if he's enjoying the thrill of the chase.

You push those thoughts aside, forcing yourself to focus on the present moment. You need to stay alert, stay composed, if you have any hope of getting out of this alive. With a steadying breath, you square your shoulders and meet Manjiro's gaze head-on, refusing to show any sign of weakness. He leads you to a sleek black car parked just down the street, opening the door and gesturing for you to get in. You hesitate for a moment, the instinct to run screaming at the back of your mind. But you know there's no escaping Manjiro, not now. With a resigned sigh, you slide into the backseat of the car, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach as Manjiro settles in beside you. "what are you wearing?" Manjiro asks after a moment of silence

There's no one else in car. Just the both of them. The windows are tinted so no one can look in. "clothes" you manage to say, sucking in uneven breaths as your heart refuses to calm itself

Honestly speaking, it made sense for Manjiro to be asking that question. Manjiro leans over and pulls your hood off your head. "[y/n]" he murmurs your name, the look on his face cold "what the hell are you doing out here?"

"I... I just needed some fresh air," you stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. "I... I didn't cause any trouble... I was having noodles"

Manjiro's eyes bore into yours, his expression unreadable. "Do you think I believe that?" he asks, his voice low and dangerous. "You know the risks, and yet you still choose to sneak out in the dead of night."

You swallow hard, trying to steady your breathing so you don't lash out at him. Sano Manjiro is not one of your father's guards so you can't yell at him as you please. "I do this every week... I... Nothing has ever happened and it's literally a 20-minute bike ride away from the mansion!"

Manjiro's gaze does not soften at all neither does his grip get any looser. "Your father's position makes you a target," he says, his tone still commanding, making you feel sick "Do you have any idea what could happen to you if the wrong people find out who you are?"

"I know," you admit, your voice barely a whisper. "But no one has. Not here. I've been coming here since I was 13!"

Manjiro releases your arm and leans back, his eyes never leaving yours. "Freedom comes with a price," he says after a moment of silence "And right now, you can't afford it."

You feel a surge of frustration and defiance rising within you. "What about you?" you retort, your voice gaining strength. "You talk about risks and dangers, but you live your life on your own terms. Why can't I?"

Manjiro's expression hardens again, a flicker of something dark and intense passing through his eyes. "Because I'm not the president's daughter and I am supposed to exist unlike you"

The silence that follows is heavy and oppressive, the weight of his words settling over you like a shroud. ow ow ow. Your chest hurts. You don't like the way he's talking to you or the way he's looking at you. It's not fucking fair that he's being like this when you couldn't stop thinking about him all day. Why is he being so mean? Suddenly you're 5 years old again at your mother's funeral, silently listening to 10-year-old Kaya spew bullshit to you, saying things like "You should've died with her", "Daddy would have been happier if you were gone too", "my mommy says you're a mistake... not supposed to exist"

You look right at Manjiro with eyes full of anger. "You don't get to talk to me like that"

Manjiro's eyes narrow at your defiant words, the tension between you crackling like a live wire. The car's confined space feels even smaller as you both lock eyes, each refusing to back down. He lets out a low, humourless chuckle, leaning in closer until his face is just inches from yours. "Oh, I don't?" he asks, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Then who does? Your father? Those guards who barely pay attention to what you're doing? You think you're invincible because you've gotten away with it so far. But you're playing a dangerous game, [Y/N]."

You're about to open your mouth to say something but he cuts you off once again. "I know more about the world you live in than you ever will. Your father's position, the enemies he has, the threats you face—none of it is a game. You think sneaking out and playing at being normal is harmless, but it's not. It's reckless. And if someone were to figure out just who you are, do you have any idea the chaos it would cause?" Manjiro hisses angrily "All of my fucking money, all my years of hard work down to fucking waste

You bristle at his words, the unfairness of your situation crashing down on you. All Sano Manjiro cares about is his stupid ass money— the money he invested into the election. Nothing else. You still have no idea just why your father would even tell this man the location of the mansion and why he became 'business partners' with him when there were so many other rich men in Japan. Your father was a very charismatic man so he wouldn't have any trouble getting investors. So why the hell did it have to be Sano-fucking-Manjiro? Oh man did you have a bone to pick with your father. "So what am I supposed to do?" you snap. "Stay locked up in that mansion forever? Pretend like I don't exist? Is that what you want?"

Without missing a beat he responds "Yes"

Your heart aches even more. The word hangs heavy in the air, its simplicity carrying the weight of your predicament. You clench your fists, feeling the sting of tears behind your eyes but refusing to let them fall. You won't give Manjiro the satisfaction of seeing you break. "Why are you even here?" you demand, your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and frustration. "Why do you care what I do? You said it yourself, I'm just a spoiled puppy."

Manjiro's expression shifts slightly, a flicker of something almost imperceptible passing through his eyes before his steely mask is back in place. He leans back in the seat, his gaze never wavering from yours. "I care because your father and I have an understanding," he says finally, his voice calmer but no less authoritative. "Your safety is part of that understanding. If anything happens to you or people find out you exist, it creates problems neither of us can afford."

You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief. "So it's all just business to you," you mutter, more to yourself than to him. "Just another transaction."

"Everything in our world is a transaction," Manjiro replies coldly. "But don't mistake that for a lack of concern. Your father's enemies would use you against him in a heartbeat. Keeping you safe isn't just about protecting his interests—it's about protecting and hiding you from becoming a pawn in a much larger game."

Your chest tightens with the weight of Manjiro's words. You want to scream at him, to tell him how unfair this all is, but deep down, you know he's right. The reality of your situation, the fragility of your existence, is something you can't ignore. You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. "Fine," you say finally, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'll stay out of trouble. Just take me back home."

Manjiro studies you for a moment, his gaze searching your face as if assessing your sincerity. You expect him to call one of his men over to drive but instead, he says "You're upset..."

"I'm not" You deny, just wanting this to be over already

You press yourself against the door, wanting to make some space between you and Manjiro and look out the window. You don't like how this night turned out. Moving your gaze from the window to your sneakers, your eye twitches at the sight of blood splattered on the white material, probably from stepping in a puddle of it inside the shop. If you weren't annoyed and irritated before you sure are now. You look back outside the window. As the car remains still, the quiet between you and Manjiro grows tense. He lets out a sigh, perhaps sensing your genuine frustration and sorrow. His demeanour shifts slightly, the hard edges of his persona softening just a touch. He moves in closer, sitting on the center seat. "hey, look at me" Manjiro doesn't give you much of a choice as he grabs your chin and makes you face him and his grip, while firm, isn't as rough as before. 

You find yourself staring into his eyes, those dark pools that hold so many secrets and dangers. His expression is softer now, almost gentle, and for a brief moment, you glimpse the boy behind the ruthless facade. His dark eyes trail down your face to your neck and settle on the piece of jewelry you're wearing. Very briefly, a look of surprise flashes over his face. It was like he hadn't expected you to wear the necklace he gifted. There's a flicker of something in his eyes, a hint of confusion or perhaps curiosity before his features once again settle into their usual mask of composure. You feel a surge of self-consciousness under his scrutiny. "I didn't mean to make you so upset, sweet girl" He murmurs and suddenly he's too close

Manjiro's hand slides up from your chin to your cheek, cradling it in the way you've been wanting him to from the beginning. Finally, finally, he's looking at you the way you want and not the way Kaya and her mother look at you. Oh, fucking god did it feel good. It felt so good you were tearing up. Tears blur your vision, and you hate how vulnerable you feel in this moment. But there's something in Manjiro's touch, something almost tender that makes it impossible to pull away. His thumb gently brushes away a stray tear, his touch surprisingly soothing. "so how'd you get all the way here, hm?" Manjiro asks, his voice low but no longer sounding cold

Your hands tremble in your lap. Finally, Manjiro is talking to you the way you wanted him to. "I-I rode my bike..." you say and Manjiro smiles

"oh you did?" he murmurs as his thumb rubs against your cheekbone "The mansion is far from here. How long did it take you?"

"20 minutes"

He's speaking to you in this oddly condescending tone but for some reason, it sounds nice. You like it. It's 100 times better than the way he was speaking to you earlier. "20 minutes? oh poor baby, hm. You rode your little bike this far just to get away from that house..." Manjiro whispers and now you can feel his breath against your cheek

Your lips quiver. He's close, really close. "were you lonely?" He asks softly "You didn't want to spend your birthday locked away, did you?"

Your lips quiver. He's close, really close. "Were you lonely?" he asks softly. "You didn't want to spend your birthday locked away, did you?"

The words sting because they're true. You swallow hard, trying to find your voice. "No... I didn't," you admit, your voice barely a whisper.

Manjiro's hand moves to the back of your head, fingers tangling gently in your hair. "You should've told me," he says, his breath warm against your skin. "I would have come to get you."

You close your eyes, leaning into his touch. "I don't have your number" 

He chuckles and the sound makes your stomach drop in the same way it would when a rollercoaster goes down. "I put my number on the back of the note, sweet girl. You didn't see it?"

Your eyes widen in realization. The note—how had you missed it? You shake your head, feeling foolish and more vulnerable than ever. "I-I didn't... I didn't see it," you stammer, the words tumbling out in a rush.

Manjiro's chuckle is soft, almost affectionate, as he continues to cradle your head in his hand. "Well, now you know," he says, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. "Next time, you can just call me."

The promise in his words, the implication of a next time, fills you with a strange mix of relief and anticipation. You nod, unable to find the words to respond. Manjiro's touch, his presence, is overwhelming in the best way possible. He's no longer being mean, no longer talking to you in the same way Kaya and your stepmother do and you feel so much better. "I'm sorry for getting mad at you, sweet girl... I had no reason to talk to you like that. You just came here to eat" Manjiro whispers, his voice sounding so soft it tugs at your heart "Instead you saw some... unsavoury things... I'm sorry"

He was talking about the people that died in the shop. You hadn't even paid attention or even remembered what just happened in the shop. You had been too focused on him after all. "let me make it up to you, hm" And before you know it, his lips are on yours

You've been kissed before— many times actually. Mostly in middle and high school though. A very memorable kiss was in 10th grade when you kissed the crush of a girl that was trying to spread rumours about you. The kiss itself hadn't been memorable but the look on the girl's face after you pulled away from her crush was priceless. This kiss, however, is memorable. The way Manjiro cradles your face like you're something precious, how his lips lock with yours— so memorable. 

The kiss is electrifying, sending shivers down your spine and igniting a fire in your veins. It's a slow burn, filled with a tenderness you hadn't expected from someone like Sano Manjiro. His lips move against yours with a skill that speaks of experience, but there's something gentle and tentative about the way he kisses you as if he's afraid of breaking you. You respond eagerly, your hands reaching up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as you deepen the kiss.

Time seems to stand still as you lose yourself in the sensation of his lips on yours, the world outside the car fading into insignificance. All that matters is this moment. It feels like a lifetime since you've felt this close to someone, this seen and understood. And as the kiss deepens, the heat between you building with each passing second, you realize that you never want it to end.

With absolute ease, Manjiro slides his tongue into your mouth and you think your head might explode or already did. His tongue slides against your and you practically fall slack against the car door you were leaning up against. Manjiro tilted his head and deepened the kiss further, licking into your mouth, groaning in satisfaction.

Manjiro's mouth captured your full lower lip, sucking it into his mouth before his teeth sunk into the bruised pink flesh. The sting of the bite drew out a delicious whimper from you but Manjrio wasn't satisfied with stopping there. He pressed on immediately, licking into your mouth with filthy flicks of his tongue, devouring any stray sound that escaped. So caught up in the feeling of his mouth against yours, you hadn't even realized Manjiro had unbuttoned your jean shorts and was already slipping his hand instead after undoing the zipper. Due to your shorts being a bit baggy, he has a lot more room to move his hand around than expected. You don't even realize that Manjir's got his hand down your shorts till his fingers brush against your pubic bone. "h-hm?" your eyes fly open and he pulls away slightly from you

"shhh~" Manjiro simply hushes, pressing a kiss to your cheek, and his middle finger brushes against your clit making your hips jolt "Lemme make it up to you baby"

His fingers dip lower to your already wet hole and you feel his lips stretch into a smile against your cheek. Oh, this was slightly embarrassing you had gotten wet from simply making out with him. His finger dips slightly into your entrance before coming back up to your clit and coating the sensitive bud in your slick. You whimper weakly, eyes falling shut as he rubs little figure 8s on your little nub. "w-wait Manjiro" you choke out weakly

"yeah, baby?" He asks, lips still pressed against your cheek

A single finger dips inside your hole and you gasp at the feeling, hand scrambling to hold onto something— anything. It's right when your hands grasp at his biceps you remember "I-I'm a virgin"

To your surprise, Manjiro laughs softly. "Hmm? No wonder you got wet so easy baby"

A second finger slides in and your eyes fall shut again. You're gasping, whimpering and moaning out his name and Manjiro just watches all your expressions intently as his fingers work in your hole and on your clit. You've never felt this way before. Yes, you have touched yourself but it has never felt as good as this. When you touch yourself your simple goal is getting off and having that release you need. Manjiro on the other hand, was going slow compared to your fast needy movements when you're on your own. His fingers feel different too. They're thicker and longer than yours and for some reason, the roughness of his skin feels so good too. "Ma-Manjiro" you whine softly

Oh, you wanted to beg him to go faster but you have a feeling he wouldn't even if you did. "feels s'good doesn't it?" Manjiro murmurs as you open your eyes, meeting his

You nod frantically, crushing the material of his suit jacket in your hands. "f-feels g-good" 

He's stroking your clit so slowly it's almost torturous but it feels so good that your eyes roll back. "Oh it does feel good" Manjiro croons, his fingers inside you curling upwards and your hips jolt again

You're breathing heavily, muscles tensing and relaxing constantly as he's slowly bringing you over to the edge. "Manjiro~" you whimper out again, unable to stay still

Your head tips back against the glass and Manjiro takes that chance to press kisses along the column of your throat. You sigh, whimpering out his name over and over like a prayer. You've never been touched like this before and you sure as hell haven't touched yourself in the same way he is right now. A coil tightens in your lower belly as after what feels like hours you're brought to the edge. "'Jiro... 'm gon' cum" You whine, thighs trembling and eyes shutting tight

"go ahead, sweet girl," Manjiro says "Come for me"

Your back arches against the door of the car and a choked sob leaves your lips. Your vision turns a blinding white as his fingers keep stroking your clit, drawing out your orgasm till you're gasping and whimpering from the slight pricks of pain that start. Manjiro is murmuring encouraging words into your ears, guiding you through the fog in your head as you come down from your orgasm. "there we go... felt good, didn't it?"

You don't answer as he slides his hand out of your shorts. You're breathing shaky and heavy as he's zipping your shorts back up and buttoning it up again. He pulls away from you and reaches over to the front and gets a tissue, wiping off his fingers. You're still shaking, thighs twitching. First time in your life you've come so damn hard. "hey, you 'kay?" Manjiro asks as he fixes your hair

It feels like your skin is overheating now that you've come down from the afterglow of your orgasm. You nod weakly, unable to really get your words out. His hands come up to run through your hair, fixes the messy strands before they come down to the end of your hoodie. "let's get this off" he says "you're burning up"

You shake your head no. "'m not wearing anything under it"

Manjiro's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, his lips curling into a mischievous grin. "Is that so?" he says, his voice low and teasing. "Well, isn't that interesting?"

Heat rushes to your cheeks, embarrassed by your own admission, but the look in Manjiro's eyes makes it hard to feel anything but anticipation. There's a playful glint in his gaze, a hint of something more that sends a shiver down your spine. You feel even hotter now. "don't worry, sweet girl, we'll turn on the air conditioner and take you home... It's been a long night"

You exhale, feeling a mix of relief and disappointment at his words. Manjiro's hands remain steady at the hem of your hoodie, his touch grounding you in the present moment. "You sure you don't want to take it off?" he murmurs, his voice still carrying that playful tone.

You shake your head again, feeling a strange blend of shyness and defiance. "Not here," you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Manjiro chuckles softly, his fingers gently trailing up your sides, sending a shiver through your body. "Alright, alright," he concedes, his touch lingering for a moment longer before he finally pulls away. "We'll save that for another time, then."

He tugs you into his side and then pulls out his phone. You don't see who he texts but as soon as he does, the car doors unlock and two men enter, both sitting in the front seats. Instinctively you press yourself into his side, wanting to hide away from them. "Sanzu turn the air conditioner on" Manjiro's voice turns back to a cold tone as the pink-haired man in the driver seat starts the car

"will do boss, little princess probably needs it" The man, Sanzu, says and your face heats up even more

Manjiro's arm tightens around you protectively, a silent assurance that you're safe with him. The car's engine hums to life, and soon the cool air of the air conditioner washes over you, providing a much-needed relief from the heat that had built up in the cramped backseat. You glance up at Manjiro, his expression now a mask of calm and control as he gives instructions to the men in the front. His demeanour has shifted, the playful teasing replaced by a serious, almost authoritative air. It's a reminder of the world he operates in, a world you're only just beginning to understand.

You feel exhausted, so sleepy after Manjiro touched you like that. Your eyes fall shut and before you know it, you fall asleep.

There are a lot of things you want to ask Manjiro, a lot of which you know you will get no answers to. However, there is one thing you have figured out just from his obvious distaste of your outfit.

He likes you better with ribbons in your hair.

[END SCENE]

"she doesn't know..." Kakucho says lowly as he looks back at your sleeping form in Manjiro's arms in the back seat

Manjiro furrows his brows. "about what?"

"About you and Kaya being engaged," Kakucho continues, his voice quiet but firm. 

He glances at Manjiro, the weight of the words hanging heavily in the air. Manjiro's expression hardens for a moment, his jaw tightening. He looks down at you, peaceful and oblivious in your sleep, nestled against him. The contrast between the tenderness he feels for you and the cold reality of his arranged engagement to Kaya is stark. He hadn't wanted to think about it, hadn't wanted to acknowledge the complications that come with his world, but now it's staring him in the face. "She doesn't need to know," Manjiro says finally, his voice monotonous as usual "Not yet, anyway."

"and here I thought you couldn't get any worse" Sanzu says with a grin as he turns onto the secluded road up to the mansion "You're engaged to her step sister and you just got frisky with her in the backseat"

Manjiro’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t respond immediately to Sanzu’s taunt. Instead, he gently strokes your hair, his expression a look of contemplation. "It's complicated," he finally mutters, more to himself than to anyone else.

"Complicated?" Sanzu snorts, glancing at him in the rearview mirror. "That's one way to put it."

Kakucho sighs, adjusting his seat to get a better view of both Manjiro and you. "are you using her to get a better hold on Saimori?" He asks

"that would make sense if you were" Sanzu continues Kakucho's words "fuck around with his favourite daughter. It's pretty obvious why he got you engaged to Kaya and not... this spoiled puppy"

Manjiro's grip on you tightens momentarily, his jaw clenched as he listens to Sanzu's words. The accusation hangs heavy in the air, and for a moment, it feels like the weight of the world is pressing down on him. He knows the truth behind his engagement to Kaya, the political motivations, the alliances it's meant to secure. "Partially" Manjiro confirms "It's partially that"

Sanzu lets out a low whistle, shaking his head in disbelief. "Well, ain't that just peachy," he mutters, his tone laced with sarcasm "My mass murderer childhood friend with the country under his boot likes a spoiled puppy"

Manjiro's gaze flickers with a hint of irritation at Sanzu's words, but he remains composed, his focus shifting back to the road ahead. "Watch your mouth, Sanzu," he warns, his voice low and dangerous. "You know what happens to those who disrespect me."

Sanzu chuckles, unfazed by the threat. "Relax, boss," he says, his tone light despite the tension in the air. "I'm just calling it like I see it."

Kakucho leans forward, his expression serious. "Mikey, you know this can't end well," he says, his voice a low murmur.

Manjiro simply holds you tighter to his side. "We're playing a bigger game now. We've got the president under our thumb and she's just extra precaution. A safety net. If Shinichi Saimori tries something, things will fall on his daughter that isn't supposed to exist"

Manjiro's words hang heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the ruthless world he navigates. The implications of his actions, the weight of his choices, are a burden he carries with a stoic resolve. As the car winds its way up the secluded road to the mansion, the silence between them is thick with unspoken tension. Kakucho watches Manjiro closely, concern etched into his features. "You're playing a dangerous game, Mikey," he says, his voice filled with a mix of caution and apprehension. "Bringing her into this... it could end badly."

Manjiro's jaw tightens, his gaze fixed ahead as he steels himself against the doubts that threaten to surface. "I know what I'm doing, Kakucho," he replies, his tone clipped and unwavering. "I can handle it."

Of course, they believe him. It's been years. They know Manjiro could handle it.

You, he knows what to do with, he's still yet to decide how to handle his hoe of a fiancé.

notes: oof well... I hope this chapter was better than the first. I was fighting for my life writing that sad excuse of a smut scene 😭

I hope you enjoyed tho.

check here for progress on the next chapter. Also if the content warnings for the next chapter are already up on the series masterlist, that means that chapter has already been written. Dates that I plan to post chapters are on the series masterlist as well.

likes, asks, comments and reblogs are appreciated ♡

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[felassan]

this post is under a cut in case anyone would consider it to be DA:D spoilers, as the things it mentions came from the leak a year ago (spoiler warning for link) that included screenshots and a gif of the game. (the things this post mentions are therefore not new information and this does not reference a new leak)

I'm just thinking again about Rook (which seems to be the PC's name or title) and the imagery conjured by the name. ◕‿◕ this post is just speculation and overanalyzing for fun. also this post is a now-finished draft from my draft section from a while back.

I think it would work as a surname (like "Hawke") or a codename (think Leliana's spies and contacts such as "Butler", "Farrier", "Butcher", "Charter", etc although these are all professions that end in "-er" or "or" iirc). it could also be a title (like Warden, Hero, Champion, Inquisitor, Herald) or a nickname - like maybe it's short for "Rookie", it's a Varric-assigned nickname and it references how the DA:D PC is the newest member of the team after he recruits them?

I think it sounds catchy, and cool - it's snappy and short, Hawke-like in this way. and it sounds like the kind of name a spy or secret agent might have in a fantasy, superhero or sci-fi-type setting.

a rook is a black bird, Corvus frugilegus, a member of the corvid family. rooks have been perceived as vermin and nuisances by people in the past, and persecuted due to this. they bear a resemblance to their crow and raven relatives, both birds which have a large cultural footprint and lots of symbolism in areas such as folklore and art. Hawke obviously also had a bird motif going on from their surname and associated art pieces. corvids also bring to mind the Antivan Crows (assassins, thieves, & spies), reminding of the stuff about how in this game the PC may be trying to operate under the radar, and the reporting on a previous iteration of DA:D which had the game concept as being focused on spies and heists. rook plumage is inky black, bringing to mind darkness and shadow.

from the bird angle, a "rook" sounds neat opposite a "wolf" imo. wolves are obviously another animal that have large footprints in culture, myth and folklore. in the natural world there is symbiosis sometimes between wolves and corvids when hunting/feeding. there are lots of photos of wolves and corvids together.

a colony of rooks is called a rookery. of course, the fortress of Skyhold has a rookery. it's from there that Inquisition Spymaster Leliana operates (operated) sending her black birds on missions with letters and messages to her many agents and spies throughout Thedas. what if Rook is one of Leliana's... "rooks"? a spy or agent of the remnants of the Inquisition.

A rook is also defined as "A cheat or swindler; someone who betrays" [noun], "mist, fog" [noun] and "to cheat or swindle" [verb]. it's also a type of trick-taking card game. these sorts of things bring to mind a rogueish, stealthy aspect, and the shady, shadowy dealings and card-game played in Minrathous Shadows.

a rook is also a chess piece. they're castle-like (since "rook" can also mean a castle or fortification) and usually have their top in the shape of a battlement. they can move in any direction along a rank or file on a chessboard on which they stand (horizontal/vertical, not diagonal). they can also do the "castling" move. in history, rooks have also been called towers, castles, rectors and marquesses. in chess, each player starts the game with two rooks at opposite ends of the first rank. chess itself is a game of strategy and tactics. "the chessmaster" as a trope is a character type who manipulates events, tugging on strings and moving 'pieces' into place on a metaphorical chessboard. [Solas' DA:I dialogue about his past, like the one he has with Sera about cells of spies/agents, hark to this]

in the castling move,

"Castling is a move in chess. It consists of moving the king two squares toward a rook on the same rank and then moving the rook to the square that the king passed over. Castling is permitted only if neither the king nor the rook has previously moved; the squares between the king and the rook are vacant; and the king does not leave, cross over, or finish on a square attacked by an enemy piece. Castling is the only move in chess in which two pieces are moved at once."

castling rules often cause confusion, even occasionally among high-level players. historically the move has its roots in the "king's leap", of which there were two forms and which arose in part it seems due to increasing importance of king safety as other pieces were given increased powers through time as the game developed. "the king would move once like a knight, or the king would move two squares on its first move. The knight move might be used early in the game to get the king to safety or later in the game to escape a threat." basically it moves the king away to safety and the rook to a more active position. there is also kingside castling and queenside castling. I wonder, symbolically.. is Rook more the king's rook, or the queen's rook? (reminds me of the Left Hand and Right Hands of the Divine hh). who or what is the king in this hypothetical analogy? the World of Thedas itself? as a castle or fortress.. Rook is the bulwark against what's to come? [over-thinking ik ik, tis just for fun hh].

by now we're all familiar with the chess game Solas plays in banter dialogue with Iron Bull during DA:I. in the in-world chess game, rooks are called towers. Solas moves his right-hand tower once. at a later point in the game, Iron Bull's "Arishok" piece takes Solas' left-hand tower, getting a check and leaving him feeling triumphant. Bull asks Solas wth he is doing as Bull takes Solas' remaining tower. "Your last tower, by the way". Bull, a spy and liar himself, bears down on Solas' pieces "with his full army", thinking a win is in sight. Undeterred, Solas executes a few moves in a sneaky plan and entraps Bull in a checkmate, winning the game after sacrificing various pieces to enact his plan.

rook also brings to mind the Tower tarot card and its meanings. it's associated with sudden, disruptive revelation and potentially destructive change. it connotes danger, crisis, sudden change, destruction, higher learning, and liberation, as well as adversity, calamity, deception, ruin and unforeseen catastrophe. reversed, it connotes things such as negligence, carelessness, apathy and vanity (vanity.. pride). in this depiction of the Tower tarot, lightning strikes from the sky, striking a crown (hubris) off the top of a tower and setting it alight as people fall from the tower to their doom. this imagery and the upright meanings of the card bring to mind the sudden massive change Solas seeks to bring about (destroying the Veil), the revelations and liberation for some that it might bring, his identity as Fen'Harel Lord of Tricksters (deception) as well as the destruction he seems to think the Veil destroying action will cause ("as the world burns in the raw chaos"...). the 'Tower scene' has also already played out once before in Thedosian history, when Solas created the Veil and sealed the Evanuris away, leading to the fall of Arlathan and its wonders. in modern Thedas, Morrigan and Flemeth (as well as possibly some side 'prophecy' type things) both allude to a big change coming to the world.

in DA:I, the Tower tarot card is ofc none other than Solas' ending card, if he is not romanced. in the DA:I version of the card, we see Solas, cloaked in a dark robe and holding a mage staff under a half-moon or eclipse. darkness seeps from his shadow, stark against the orange sky, and blends with the giant black Dread Wolf, looming ominously and open-mouthed above him with its many eyes. (the Tower tarot card Solas scene is later referenced in DA:D promotional art and DA:D-era in-world murals). it makes sense to have assigned this to Solas given the above discussed meanings of the Tower tarot card, but it's a verrry inchresting choice imo to then give "Rook" as a name/title for the DA:D PC.

and most inchrestingly, there's the symbol from the front of Mark Darrah's mysterious Red Book. this mysterious red book shows "a flaming rook" on the cover. the book was an internal guide for developer and publisher eyes only that summarized the vision for DA:D, in its Joplin iteration. we know that the Joplin project has since been revised to an extent that it was the newly codenamed Morrison instead, but the red book is known to still contain plenty of ideas likely to appear in DA:D. most pages of the book remain highly classified. it's the symbol on the front that's of most interest to us though for the purposes of this post. there is a castle, tower, or rook, like a fortress or the chess piece. above the tower, a fire burns, reminding us of the burning tower from the Tower tarot card imagery and what that symbolizes, as well as Solas' "world burning in the raw chaos" line from Trespasser. inside the fire is a wolf, the Dread Wolf, in a now very-familiar and repeated motif in DA:D art, merch, murals, teasers etc. whatever else "rook" may connote, it feels like it's not an accident at all that the PC's name is apparently "Rook", given this depiction of a fiery rook and the Dread Wolf together.

what do you think? ^^

[gietterbug]

Spy x Family Code: White - Highlights

*This post contains spoilers. Scroll away if you still need to watch the movie. **Reposted because it didn't show in the tags.

Since the movie is out and has been circulating on the internet, I would like to talk one thing or two about it. I'm overjoyed about the release and have watched the movie numerous times. So here are some highlighted scenes, or at least the ones that have become my favorites and lingered in my mind for way too long.

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First off, this scene. It's just a small gesture of Loid because apparently he's worried about Yor's mouth due to the "irritating" lipstick she's wearing.

But tell me, what kind of man would give a woman such a pleasant little gift if he did NOT love her. It's not like, "You're nothing to me. Here's a new lipstick for you!"

Loid is not going to declare "I LOVE YOU" explicitly; the hell is he going to, but we have eyes, and we see. Your small gesture and little gift say everything I need to hear, and I won't take your for the mission excuse anymore, Loid Forger.

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I'm fully aware that the "Yor getting jealous" trope is becoming redundant nowadays. Some people say they're overdoing it and no longer find it interesting to talk about. But I beg to differ. I'm still on the Yor's jealousy bandwagon because it's become a crucial element in her and Loid's relationship. Yor does not necessarily have the right to get jealous and upset about the idea that there is someone else in Loid's heart. Heck, I dare say she can't pull out the "wifey" card because we know it's all fake.

But that's not that.

For me, to say that Yor is jealous there might be another woman in Loid's life is an understatement. It's not to say she is being greedy, but she does want Loid, and only him, not just because she's technically his wife—her genuine feelings for him are growing, and we can see that. She does not want to lose him, let alone to be out of the picture. It's Yor being true to herself. It's Yor fighting for her love and affection for Loid.

Extras:

Yor's heart is already shaken at the possibility of Loid cheating. And HE does not help by throwing such flattery and complimentary comments about his wife. This dense man…

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I liked what Anya did in this scene.

Afraid of her family falling apart, she tried everything she could to prevent that, and that is... through her parents' flirting 😏

She's still a little kiddo, but being the telepath that she is, she still wants her family to stay intact. Anya pushing Loid and Yor together to have some kissy-kissy time never gets old, to be honest. I always enjoy it every time she does that. Anya recollecting what Becky said about divorce and the "supposedly" bloodbath also added some comedic sense to the scene.

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This has got to be my #1 favorite.

The only physical intimacy in this scene is just Loid putting his hand on top of Yor's. Nothing more. Okay, we may have moved past that episode where LoidTwilight pulled a honeytrap on Yor, AND we can't dismiss the fact that maybe, there's a definite chance that he just used her.

But this time, he is determined to keep Yor around for real. He even restated his granade proposal to stick with each other—basically their wedding vows—and had no intention to break that promise. What's this smell? It's a whiff of peak romance.

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This scene made me feel warm and fuzzy.

What came to my mind when I was watching this scene was that although Twilight is the best and most renowned spy there is, he's still lacking some things. One of them is, for sure, parenting, which we saw from the earlier episodes of the series, he picked it up from books.

Yor always plays along with Anya to keep her entertained, and it's also one of her ways of parenting that some people may have dismissed. Yor arguably does better in this field than Twilight from her own experiences, the big chunks of which were from when she raised little Yuri. This should eliminate the questionable discourse of Yor "unfitting" for the mother role.

This scene got extended to when Yor told Loid that it was a family trip, that Anya was looking forward to this trip, and that they all should go together.

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This may be the last for now: the Forgers walking hand in hand at the end.

I couldn't imagine the hardships this family went through throughout this movie. (Ok, I know some were absurd, but let's move past them for the sake of this post.) Despite being a fake family, they still came as one and worked hard together to put things back in their place and resolve all the problems. Like... they didn't have to do that; their family is a pretend. But they did. They're complete, and it's so beautiful to see ❤

[tennessoui]

kit's list of obikin fic recs in no particular order

y'all asked and i finally answered.....here's a list of fics i've read and adored this year! note that i've tagged things that i think could squick people (a/b/o dynamics, weird biology, dub con, heavy kink, etc), and i've noted the ratings (explicit, mature, teen), but i have not noted top/bottom (this list contains a pretty even split of both) and i haven’t indicated which are WIPs - take a chance! i've left little paragraphs as to why i liked the fic but i tried to keep spoilers out of them so the story can be a surprise :D

remember to leave a comment and a kudos if you enjoyed the fic :D

Igneous - zimriya Notes: Explicit, A/B/O dynamics, canon compliant, series!

Trying to find this fic so I could reread it was the thing that prompted me to make this list. That’s how amazing this fic is. It tears out your heart strings. It hurts. I love it. It’s soft. It makes me cry. I am never going to recover from this perfect retelling of canon. This hurts just as much as the kenobi show. I owe this author a medical bill and a thank you card. I don’t care if a/b/o isn’t your thing or omega obi-wan isn’t your thing i need you to try reading this fic i really do because it’s just honestly superb and beautiful prose and i think about some of these lines near daily. Ok, fine. Daily.

I’d Never Be Me (Without The Support of Your Loving Arms) by euryrice  Notes: Explicit

i don’t think i’ll ever stop talking or thinking about this fic, it’s up there for me….such a good take on a bond/spy au that I don’t think I’ll ever seriously try at one myself because it’d never be ‘i’d never be me without the support of your loving arms’; it’s just so well thought through. Canon lovingly applied. Kit beautifully moved and hungry for a second part of the series, even though it doesn’t even need a second part and is perfect as a stand alone. Witty banter rating: 10/10

Hooked On You by @whohatessand Notes: Explicit, infidelity, side anidala (padmé is being cheated on)

Dirty bad wrong never felt so good though; Anakin is cheating on his wife with her campaign manager. Anakin is very not satisfied with being a trophy husband, and honestly it’s so valid of him. This is so well-written that Anakin’s frustration with his life, his wife, his duties all feels very real and understandable. Does that excuse the cheating and the spit-as-lube fucking at a donor ball? Nah, but they know it doesn’t. And it ends on a very hopeful obikin note, which is my favorite

The Final Frontier of Pleasure by @jedibongrip Notes: Explicit, bp!Anakin, virginity kink (ish?)

“Just the tip” made into a very hot 2k fic wherein anakin’s definitely not a virgin anymore, but obi-wan’s gonna go along with it if it makes him happy (and means that he gets to keep touching him, god bless); note to say that all of this author’s stuff is very good!

Stars To Fill My Dreams by hidden_humours Notes: Explicit, reverse master/padawan, dark Anakin

Anakin is teetering on going off the walls insane in this fic and I am so here for it. This is just amazing. I love a padawan obi-wan and I especially love this time-travel with a twist (which I won’t spoil!); the summary even says “yeah this anakin isn’t all there” and the author is right!!! 100%!! I love it. I want to poke this Anakin with a stick. I want to push him off his metaphorical cliff of sanity. I want to push Obi-Wan off a cliff just to see what this Anakin would do. What a fic. What a goddamn fic.

Obi-Two by @virahaus Notes: Explicit, Obi-Wan/Anakin/Obi-Wan

Guys, holy shit I am so excited for this WIP you have no idea. Everything about it is delicious so far. The Obi-Wan that gets zapped back in time just before ROTS/Order 66 is living to see twunk Anakin again and he is so soft yet so commanding about it. Ben!Obi-Wan literally kills me in this fic. If there’s never another chapter, I’m begging you to read this anyway, it’s that good.

Vast as the sea, constant as the tide by @moonlightatnoon Notes: Explicit, pirate!anakin, captain!Obi-Wan

So maybe Kit’s attention was captured and held by the sea-themed title…she’s a simple lady. But this fic is absolutely beautiful.  I love the intrigue, the history, the pining of it all. My attention, much like Obi-Wan, was gently captured and held hostage by pirate Anakin and the way he’s like ‘my obi-wan <3 mine <3’ while also being a whole ass pathetic lil mew mew of a pirate. He is so possessive and fearsome and clingy and needy I love this Anakin and how much he needs his Obi-Wan. I love the ending especially! Beautifully done.

Buns of Steel by @ragnarlothcat Notes: Explicit, humor, himbos the both of them 

Put this under Fics That Make Kit Want To Join A Gym. I love the humor here (Rag has such a legendary way with a great turn of phrase and pacing of jokes that just makes the fic fly by) and the ridiculousness of it all. Obi-Wan here is extremely lovably bitchy and I adore it. His dialogue is quite polite, but this is a fic where the narration really makes the characterization pop. Also the amount of lusting after his beautiful aerobics instructor that Obi-Wan does…and how UNFAIR he finds Anakin’s beauty. Just amazing. Cheering for Obi-Wan living his best life and getting the hot aerobics instructor in the end.

My Thoughts I Confess (Verge On Dirty) by @artemisthehuntress Notes: Explicit, horny, horny, horny Obi-Wan

This is, of course, the other fic filed under Fics That Make Kit Want To Join A Gym. I love Anakin in booty shorts. I love Obi-Wan, head empty and no thoughts because his dick is too goddamn hard to see straight. One should not be exercising under such conditions. The humor here is impeccable. Love all of Obi-Wan’s fantasies with the hot guy working out next to him. If you’re a fan of horny-grip Obi-Wan, this is the fic for you! If you’re not as into horny-grip Obi-Wan, I’d say this fic is still worth the read because it’s just written so well.

just like the days we’d burn by @travellingcircus Notes: Explicit, PTSD mentions, heavy

I was always going to rec one of travellingcircus’ fics of course. They are a fantastic writer and I love their fics - especially the long oneshots that consume my entire night when I see that one’s been posted and I get to delve into a new side of obikin I could never imagine. This fic is one of my favorites by them – and maybe one of my favorite modern aus all together. Anakin has a racing career until he has an accident. Then he goes back to his small town and decides to have Obi-Wan instead because first love (I love first love fics especially in modern aus)!! Also Obi-Wan has a motorbike. This is excellent news. He also has helmet hair. I love Anakin in this fic so much. He’s crazy. He’s wounded. He’s obsessed. He’s in love. He’s desperate. And Anakin makes Obi-Wan all these things too. Such a good modern au for these characters. They feel so close to their canon characters, it’s marvelous.

Where Every Mask Cracks by skyl_tales Notes: Explicit, a spin-off of one of their other fics, but can be standalone

Skyl_tales’ fics for me are the very definition of fandom classic. They were the first fics I read and I continue to reread them roughly maybe once every year at least. They’re just all very readable. The writing style is something I have always loved and envied – their fics are approachable and entertaining, no matter how much you know or don’t know about Star War at the time of your reading. Tbh I think this is the fic author who has influenced my writing the most! I love this fic in particular because I do have a soft spot for vaderwan. Old Ben being delightfully torn up over Vader and Vader being delightfully unhinged about his former master…..with a magical fix-it device that restores both of them to their younger, strongest selves (if only to make the fucking easier and the horny insatiable)

Gay Chicken by zimriya Notes: Explicit, enemies to lovers, light daddy kink

Where to begin with this fic!!! I guess I cannot stress enough how much I love humor in fics when done right and this is done so well. Like it is literally so funny and so normal. There is something so beautiful about putting these space monk superheroes into like. Just situations. This fic is about laundry. But also upstairs neighbors. But also lost loves??? I’m always a bit hesitant for fics with a lot of notes/messages, because I can find that hard to read, but this was very, very easy to read, both format-wise and flow of the story wise. I love them both being assholes to each other.  Love them slowly becoming friends through notes under the monikers “501” and “212”. LOVE the twist.

wildest dreams by kidhuzural Notes: Explicit, 5+1 fic

Basically: Baby Anakin wants to get married to Obi-Wan. Teenager padawan Anakin wants to marry Obi-Wan. Clone Wars Anakin wants to marry Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan wants to marry Clone Wars Anakin. I love love love fics that start out with baby padawan Anakin and have him grow up. It places so much emphasis on their master&padawan relationship and how important they were to each other before AOTC or TCW, which I think is the strongest basis for obikin. Also this Anakin is just so cute and Obi-Wan cares for his baby padawan so much!! All in all, this fic is just so sweet. Obsessed.

In Pursuit of Cold Water by @jswander Notes: Mature, Merman!Anakin

Can I have a fic rec list that doesn’t include this fic?? I love this fic. I think I reread it like twenty times while waiting for the last chapter, and it was worth it and gripping and incredible each time. I am fascinated by writers who can worldbuild, and Jo worldbuilds so well in this mermaid AU. I love the descriptions of their fins; the possessiveness, the hurt, the anger, the jadeness, and the naivete of Anakin somehow all existing in the same character and all being so justified. There’s some really heavy moments and also really silly moments (they dress Anakin up as an old lady to avoid detection at one point). I love the development of their relationship and especially the growth of their mental bond. Such a good translation  of their Force bond in canon (and such a clever work-around for a mermaid not speaking English!) Just an amazing fic. So good.

The Devil’s In The Details by @ragnarlothcat Notes: Explicit, demon Anakin, darker!Anakin (because of the demon bit)

Back at it again with my Rag-writing obsession! I’m loving this WIP and how evil and innocent Anakin is. Yeah, he’s a demon haunting Obi-Wan’s new house; yeah, he’s killed like. A ton of people. But he’s so pathetic. So very eager to please. So very attractive. As a reader, you’re like Obi-Wan’s friend, Quinlan, who discovers Obi-Wan sleeping with a literal demon, and you’re like ‘bestie, do you not know? That’s a literal demon?’ and obi-wan is like ‘he is quite polite and does so good on our walks around town’ and you’re like ‘you’re taking him on walks???’ but also you can’t help but root for demon Anakin and poor decision-maker Obi-Wan. Also, once again, I love Rag’s humor and timing of it. The narration Obi-Wan has is so colorful and so fucking funny, I snort all the time. He’s such a bitch. He’s amazing.

By Omission by @posthumousvigor Notes: Explicit, reverse master/padawan au, drunk sex

This writer is very quickly becoming one of my favorites. I love their prose and the way they write Obi-Wan—especially padawan!Obi-Wan with Master Anakin. One of my favorite dynamics for obikin aus, and this writer gives me so much good food. TBH one of my all-time favorite cliches/tropes is one of them getting dressed up out of their Jedi robes to be put in Situations, and I especially love this for Obi-Wan cause Anakin got a whole movie of dressing up for funsies, and this fic delivers. Master Skywalker comes back early from a mission to find his padawan slutting it up in the Lower Levels, and what is a man to do other than snap?? And he snaps so beautifully in this fic. I love it when they’re horny beyond reason for each other.

how to stay by answersinahauntedclub Notes: Explicit, professor/student relationship

I know logically that this fic probably will not update again, but it is so beautiful and I think about it all the time. It is like. The peak of college/university aus in this fandom. Bold statement, I know, but I love this fic and characterization so much that I am stating it. They’re both disasters. They can’t resist each other even if they really, really should. It’s an incredible read and I am fascinated by both this Obi-Wan and this Anakin. Cannot stress enough the lovable disasters that they are. In writing this, I took an hour break and reread it again.

we’re swimming with the sharks (until we drown) by @obiwaned Notes: Teen, fake/pretend relationship

Getting this update notification felt like such a sweet sweet win for me. I loved the premise as soon as I read it and it just keeps getting better. Fake marriage for any reason is always amazing. I also LOVE non-linear timelines and this writer does it so well because you as the reader don’t get lost and confused trying to keep the timeline straight. It’s delectable, it’s straightforward, it’s so easy to devour, and I am obsessed with this fic and even the possibility of more.

Self-Insert by ZenyZootSuit Notes: Teen, crack

God this is so funny in a very crack way. Short and funny and perfect. Darth Vader writes self-insert fanfiction about being with Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Darth Sidious finds out. Imperial secrets are leaked, but I’m sure those were important details he needed to include!! For context! Realism! Absolutely perfect; no notes.

Open Circle by Calyss Note: Explicit, Dark Obi-Wan, dom/sub (under)tones, seduction to the Dark side

This is also one of my annual rereads, and one of my absolute favorite Sith Obi-Wans in the fandom. I love how out of control this sith Obi-Wan is, how very obsessed with just Anakin he is. Sith Obi-Wan really said “he’s mine” and he’s gonna destroy Anakin’s marriage and the whole galaxy to prove it. And also Anakin is not going to say no or resist much at all because that’s his master and he loves him and has weird feelings for him he has not really examined. This is also such an id fic of mine. But no regrets putting it on the list. When I saw it updated in October 2022, I literally cleaned my room and improved my life before I sat down to read it.

How to Save a Galactic Republic Without Really Trying by @sharpest-tongue Notes: Mature, Post Kenobi show

So many amazing fics came out of the Kenobi show but this absolutely has to be one of my favorites. There’s humor, there’s touching moments, there’s Star Wars lingo I didn’t know but that made the whole thing feel very much in-universe (and that I have now incorporated into my Star Wars Wikipedia slash Dictionary for later use, even if it’s all made up). I love a time travel fic, has to be said, and this one delivers perfectly. The Jedi as family in this fic really made me emotional. Extra special shout out to Obi-Wan, raising his padawan again in a do-over, and thinking, ‘i was not this bad as a teenager wtf?? Yeah ok whatever i MAY have fought in TWO WARS at that age but still!!!’ love him. Love his obvious blind spots for anakin and also for himself. Such a good fic!!!

broken bones, thunder drums by @maragny Notes: Teen, hurt/comfort

There is so much to love about this fic and I love it all. Clone War fics are like my bread and butter in this fandom. I love obikin fics that take place in the middle of battle where the reader is confronted with the reality of either Anakin or Obi-Wan fighting – and this fic really starts by throwing you into the action in such a visceral, effective way that I was stressed! I was gripped! It makes Anakin hiding his injury feel not only understandable but also like the only option. Good think Obi-Wan is there to save the day and help Anakin through his pain because he is overprotective and in love with him. Also the first chapter is told from Rex’s point of view, which just. One of my favorite outsider POVs for obikin is Rex.

no news is good news by @rhymenoceros Notes: Mature, crack, relationship reveal, breaking news/news cycle format

This fic is so funny! The tone is perfect for what the writer sets out to do — that is, make the reader feel like they’re caught up in a social media news cycle! There’s talk shows, there’s paparazzi, there’s space reddit, there’s leaked Jedi text conversations….the Jedi screen names are hilarious and easy to tell who is who while still staying true to the joke. Cannot recommend this fic enough. Cute, funny, horny, and with that sweet sweet Palpatine downfall that the best cracky fics always have.

Falling Deep Into You by @dark--whisperings Notes: Explicit, dom/sub tones, so much pining

Any fic that has the tag “Obi-Wan Kenobi is a freak in bed” has my attention and my interest. This writer describes Anakin subbing and Obi-Wan domming so very beautifully that it’s almost a manifesto in 8k. Lots of good sex here, but I really love the opening scene and the push and pull the writer’s given the characters. They want each other so much—Obi-Wan wants so much, but alas! Religious guilt on par with catholicism! Of course the nasty freaky sex fiend in Obi-Wan wins out over the Jedi Master, but I really enjoyed the guilt and the way he gives in and goes to find Anakin because of course he does. And then the ending! A resetting of the chess board so that the game can start over tomorrow. A great fic all in all!

you took my love so tenderly by @billboguspreston & @acrylicsalts-inspo Notes: Explicit, prince/guard dynamic, exhibitionism

I started reading this fic when it was first posted, and I followed it attentively and with baited breath. I love the reverse age dynamic (I know, it’s not for everyone, but I lovelovelove it), and I love that this Obi-Wan is such a spitfire. He knows what he wants and that’s for his silent, restrained, older, handsome bodyguard to snap and fuck him and he WILL brat his way into getting what he wants as is his right. Anakin being both incredibly horny (Anakin horny-gripping the pommel of his sword because Obi-Wan has decided to get off right in front of him to see if he can tempt him into fucking him) is amazing. Obi-Wan being both the aggressor and also the inexperienced one is chef’s fucking kiss and a dynamic I do not see often enough. So worth the read. And there may be more sequels??? Be still my beating heart!

I Wanna Be Owned by @kyberkenobi Notes: Explicit, 5+1 things, light BDSM

Speaking of horny grip lol, I had to think for a bit about which fic from this writer to choose because all of them are very good and very very smutty with all sorts of kinks and dynamics. The writer you go to for mean dom Obi-Wan and if you’re feeling up for discovering a kink you weren’t sure you were into before. There’s plenty of amazing fics on her ao3 (I was also immediately obsessed with the recent alpha/alpha one), but this fic is one of my favorites. I love the style of a 5+1 for a fic, and I am obsessed with casual slut (affectionate) Obi-Wan and Anakin’s blinders of his master slowly being pulled away until he HAS to confront the reason Obi-Wan can untie and hogtie a criminal they caught so damn quickly. It’s indecent. It’s amazing. 

Our Man From Tatooine by kazmir Notes: Explicit, a/b/o dynamics, intersex omegas

This story is such a good, quick, enthralling read. I really can’t say much without spoiling it, but it’s worth the read. Dark Obikin, twists and turns, roleplaying, horny mates being unable to resist the other’s draw….so good….One of those fics I paused to reread while reccing it lol

Acts of Contrition by @marycontraire Notes: A series, ranging from Gen - Explicit

Cheating a little bit to rec you all a series instead because I just reread this fic series and fell in love with it all over again. Literally a fandom classic for me. The world building is amazing, the realism and research really pays off because it creates such a rich world for people to dive into. The Tatooine culture is so rich and interesting, and I love this Anakin especially. It’s a very realistic take on if Anakin had been expelled from the Order for the Tusken massacre. This Anakin is darker and clingier and Obi-Wan is trying to keep himself level and sane and something Anakin can cling to while still being a Jedi in all but name. Every installment of this series is gold and worth reading as quickly as possible just to have this in your mind faster. Also worth a slow read to savor it because unfortunately, you can only read a fic series like this for the first time once.

You can call me baby (you can call me love) by @lilredghost Notes: Explicit, 5 + 1

This fic is so sweet that I honestly forgot it was explicit - even though, yes, it opens with a sex scene lmao! But I love this writer’s explicit fics so much (their ao3 is worth a browse) that I am not disappointed in it being explicit, no sir. Obi-Wan gets upset when Anakin calls him an old man repeatedly and I’ve read this fic so much that when I see repeated use of “old man” in other fics I’m like “! no! His feelings!!!” this fic ALSO has anakin calling obi-wan baby <3  so good so sweet so perfect.

take my hand through the flames by @atornpage Notes: Explicit, vaderwan, seduction to the Dark Side

Oh this may just be the WIP I am most excited to see updated! It’s such a clever and unique concept that I’m on the edge of my seat to see where the writer takes the story next. There are not enough stories where a character falls into a coma and time passes around them, and this is so perfect. I adore fics where baby Anakin is clingy and obsessed with Obi-Wan and everyone around them is like ‘this is not REALLY the Jedi way, guys’, and this fic has SO much of that. I can’t wait to see all the promises of the tags come to fruition and am massively enjoying the ride to get there!

Heal Me, My Darling by @wasureneba Notes: Explicit, sick fic, idiots in love

Who doesn’t love a sick fic?? The tender healing…the care…the rotten work…not to me, not if it’s you, etc etc…this fic is such a good sick fic too, I was here for the entire thing! Anakin is in top whiny form and Obi-Wan is cuddling him left and right! I also love Anakin having a praise kink in this fic – it made me soft and so receptive to the idea again when I was getting tired of seeing it as a default in a ton of fics. But this fic said “Obi-Wan tells Anakin he’s doing good while touching his ass to administer a very important for plot reasons shot and Anakin bursts into flames” and I said “absolutely and understandable, please tell me what happens next.” This is like a perfect sick fic for me. The right balance of sweet and horny. Caring Obi-Wan and whiny because he’s bored! Anakin. God-tier combination.

Νόστος by NFx Notes: Explicit, stockholm syndrome typical of hades & persephone aus

I am always here for a good Hades&Persephone AU and I feel like this is a great one! I especially love AUs that carefully place Star Wars GFFA characters into an established world (like Greek mythology in this case), and take care to match up the side characters of the GFFA with the AU characters they’re being transposed on. I like the pace and narration of this one too, the way the tone feels both readable and still old — the dialogue and narration don’t read like a BBC documentary set in Ancient Greece where everyone just sort of speaks like they’re in a Shakespeare play for some reason, but it’s still sorta oldish/stiffer dialogue that really keeps you in the fic universe without alienating readers. Also, horny. But dark horny. Love a darker Anakin. 

Hunting the Homeward Light by GreenQueenofClubs Notes: Teen

One of my all-time favorites, I think, and if you haven't read it or haven't reread it recently, you need to! There's so much tension build up and detail put in with such an amazing pay off that I could literally read this fic every month and probably find something new to enjoy all over again. I don't even have strong opinions about mace training anakin, but this fic convinced me it could work and work really well. also poor poor obi-wan </3 his emotional support padawan goes missing </3 but then is found :) as a twunk :)

[hannahbarberra162]

Squace of Hearts

18+ MDNI

on Ao3 Part 2

(I found this image on Facebook, I can't find who made the collage).

For my Ace loving Nonnies. Thank you for 100 followers! This was supposed to be a one shot but...it's a two shot. Fluff and smut.

Synopsis: You run into your childhood friend, Ace, at a bar on some nameless island. You remember him being cute, but nothing like this. Sparks fly between you (literally) as you rekindle your childhood crushes.

(I know there is a portal fruit already. This one is a little different.)

~~~

“Come on, Squace. I taught you to cheat better than that,” you said with a purr as you leaned your forearm against the top of the wooden chair in front of you. A man with an orange cowboy hat perched on top of shaggy black hair paused as if frozen.

“I FUCKING KNEW IT!” yelled Twin-Blade immediately, throwing all his cards in the air. The other Whitebeard Commanders sitting at the round wooden table didn’t seem as fussed. 

“How could you not know it yoi? Ace isn’t good at cheating, we just let him because it doesn’t help him win anyway,” replied The Phoenix calmly.  Meanwhile, the man sitting in the chair you were leaning on whipped his head around, eyes wide.

“Is it really you?” he said, standing up and turning around to get a look. Squace looked like the little boy you’d left behind on Dawn Island, but had clearly grown into a man. And what a man.

“In the flesh,” you said with a wink. Ace grinned widely and hugged you, picking you up and swinging you in a circle. You laughed as he swung you, it was so nice to see him after all these years. He set you on the ground and looked you up and down.

“You look great!” You laughed again and gave him a grin.

“You’re not looking so bad yourself there, cowboy,” you said as you flicked the brim of his hat. Ace smiled as he blushed at your compliment. And there he was, the boy that you’d had to leave behind all those years ago. You’d never forget that face.

“Aren’t you going to introduce us to this beauty?” Twin-Blade had evidently relaxed since his outburst and was flashing you a toothy smile. 

“Oh, right. This is Dreamy. We grew up together on Dawn Island.” You laughed again.

“Aww, no one’s called me that in a long time, I missed it. But I guess you probably haven’t been called ‘Squace’ either.”

“Come, sit with us for a moment,” requested Izo. “I have so many questions about how all this happened,” he said, gesturing to Ace as a whole.

“Don’t want to interrupt your card game,” you said with a twinkle in your eye. 

“C’mon, we haven’t seen each other in years. I wanna catch up,” Ace pleaded with those puppy dog eyes you’d never been able to say no to.

“If you insist,” you said, grabbing an empty chair and hauling it to the table at which they were seated. You sat next to Ace, so close your thighs were almost touching. You knew Ace, of course, but the rest you only knew by their wanted posters. 

“So, you two grew up in the same town yoi?” The Phoenix asked. You and Ace exchanged a look.

“Not exactly. I lived way up in the mountains, Ace lived a little closer to the town.” 

“Then how did you meet if you were living so far apart?” You smirked at Ace, ready to tell the childhood story. He tried shaking his head to stop you.

“Dreamy, don’t. It’s embarrassing,” Ace whined. 

“I must, I must! I caught Ace spying on me when I was bathing in the river. So I broke his nose,” you said, reminiscing. The other men at the table laughed uproariously, while Ace turned as red as the beads around his neck.  

“I mean, I set it for him afterwards. He didn’t complain about it too much either. After that, we were thick as thieves. Right, Squace?” You patted Ace’s cheek affectionately, and he leaned into your touch. You weren’t going to embarrass him too much but a little ribbing was always fun.

“Why do you call him Squace?” Izo asked curiously.

“Ah, because his forehead is almost perfectly square. So square plus Ace, you get Squace.” His friends laughed heartily, Twin-Blade even with some tears in his eyes. Ace groaned.

“Then why does he call you Dreamy?” The Phoenix asked with a sly look. You had a feeling he already knew.

“Because I was the dreamiest girl he’d ever seen in his whole life ,” you said with a smile, putting your palms under your chin, your hands framing your face like a flower.

“All right, all right, enough with the kid stuff,” Ace said, still red as a tomato. 

“I’m just teasing you. I missed you a lot,” you told him in a sweet tone. “I’ve been keeping up with you, I have a copy of all your bounty posters. I got worried when I stopped seeing the Spade pirates, but it seems you’ve found your place,” you said gesturing around the table.

“Oh, sorry. Let me introduce everyone. This is Thatch, Izo, and Marco. We’re all Whitebeard Commanders.” Ace looked proud of himself and his friends. He had a right to be, it was incredibly impressive. They inclined their heads at you and waved as Ace said their names. Good looking buncha pirates, you thought. 

“Pleased to meetcha,” you said, saluting them with a finger. You’d been working on the Grand Line for years, but you’d never run into Whitebeard Commanders before. 

“Do you really have all my posters?” Ace asked, flabbergasted.

“Mm-hmm. In my best waterproof trunk for safekeeping. I take ‘em off the walls as soon as they’re updated, only taking the best copies. By the way, I saw Luffy’s starting to make a name for himself.” You weren’t as close with Luffy, Ace hadn’t brought him up the mountain that many times. Still, you kept the kid’s posters too. 

Ace beamed with pride, “yeah, he’s left Dawn Island too.”

“Does he still want to be -”

“The King of the Pirates,” you and Ace finished the sentence together. Even though you’d only met Luffy a handful of times, he’d mentioned his dream…a lot. 

“You’ve gotta tell us more about Ace as a kid,” Thatch begged. 

“Nah, that’s long behind us, I wanna hear about life with Whitebeard . ” You didn’t want to embarrass Ace too much in front of his crewmates. You did have quite a few Ace stories up your sleeve, but you didn’t want to injure his pride. Ace puffed up as he told you about how he was the Second Division Commander, how he’d tried to kill Whitebeard for 100 days, how he’d met Red Haired Shanks and thanked him for saving Luffy’s life, how he’d gotten his devil fruit on Sixis along with a first mate, and many other tales of adventure. He didn’t mention how attractive he’d become, how his lean muscles moved when he shifted, or how his adorable freckles made you want to kiss him all over his face. 

Your cheeks hurt from so much smiling and laughing at his tales. Now you were seeing the other side of Ace you’d missed. As he told his stories, he had swagger, confidence, charm, and humor. It was easy to see why people liked him and how he’d risen to prominence so young, he was effortlessly charismatic. Even when you were kids, you knew he’d do something great with his life. You didn’t have as much confidence about your own path. As he talked about his current life, you noticed all the other Commanders egging him on to tell more and more stories. They obviously cared for him and supported him. You were happy for Ace - he had a hard childhood, born under an unlucky star. He seemed to have found a new family to love him, which he deserved in spades. 

“But what about you?” Ace asked, “what have you been up to? Are you on a pirate crew?”

“Can’t you tell I’m a Marine?” you said sarcastically, gesturing to your outfit. You were wearing a very short dress, tall ass-kicking boots and had a knife strapped to your thigh. “No, I’m just joking. I tried the pirate thing. It wasn’t for me. I’m a mover.”

“A mover? What does that mean?” Ace asked, tilting his head like a puppy. He was so goddamn cute, you wanted to eat him up. You remembered him being a good looking kid, but nothing like this. 

“Just what I said. I move stuff. For a price.” 

“Like, you pick up couches and pianos and stuff?” 

“Something like that,” you replied cryptically. You were building anticipation, but you wanted to show off a little for Ace. Ace looked at you with just as much admiration as he always had and it did something to you. You’d missed the feeling of being someone’s crush and you wanted to relive it.

“You look smaller than you were at 15. How do you move heavy things?” Ace asked, looking you up and down. You absolutely loved it when he gave as good as he got.

“Oi! I’m not smaller! You just got bigger! And besides, like this,” you said, bringing your hands out in front of you. You turned your right and left hands one after the other, like you were twisting a doorknob. A blue portal opened under a beer that had just been set in front of Thatch. The full glass fell into the portal, coming out from an orange portal you’d opened right in front of you. You grabbed the beer before it smashed onto the table, and took a sip. Ace’s mouth was hanging open. You gently closed it for him with your palm. The other Commanders were looking with sharp interest. 

“I ate the move-move no Mi,” you explained. “It allows me to, well, move things. I can open a blue portal and anything that goes through it comes out the orange one. It’s handy. So I made a business where I move large or difficult things, for a high price. That’s what I do.” Well, that was one of the things you did. 

You could see Ace bubbling with questions. You looked at him indulgently, and said “go ahead, ask.” You answered question after question about your devil fruit from both him and his friends. How big could you make the portals (no size limit, but the larger the portal the more energy it took to operate), how much could you fit through the portal (no limit, but it did come out the other side the same size), can you move people (yes, including yourself), how far can you cast the portals (as far as you can see with your naked eye), and was there anything between the portals (no, they were directly connected, no space in between them). You showed off a few tricks, having your hand come out of the table, taking Marco’s glasses off his face and putting them on your own without getting up, simple things like that. After a long while you had enough, you didn’t like talking about yourself all that much. Besides, you had work to do the next day.

“Alright, alright. Listen, Ace, I’ve gotta go now but I’d love to catch up more. How long are you on this island?” 

“Coupla days, I think. Are you staying here for a few as well? Can we meet up for dinner? Here? At 6? Tomorrow?” His voice was going up in pitch the more questions he asked. He was so flustered, you couldn’t help but smile. And tease him just a little more.

“Mmhmm, that’s what’s nice about working for myself. I can leave - or not - when I want. See you tomorrow, cowboy,” you said, kissing his cheek and sauntering away. Ace blushed again. So goddamn cute.

~~~

Ace POV

Ace, along with most of the bar patrons, watched your hips swish out the doors of the bar. He hung his head. “Alright, have at it,” he grunted. He knew he was due for a large amount of teasing from his brothers. 

“Nah, that’d be no fun. First crushes are a sacred thing, man.” Thatch clapped Ace on the shoulder. “Everyone remembers the first person who set their heart aflame,” Thatch said wistfully, grabbing at his chest. “Leo, I’ll never forget you or your washboard abs.”

“True, mine was a girl named Aiko,” Izou chimed in. “I met her at a soba shop. We spent one summer together, enjoying each other’s company at night.” Izou put his chin on his hand, lost in his own thoughts.

“Isabella did it for me,” Marco replied. “I saw her in a swimming suit when I was 10 and I was done for. We get it yoi. Besides, what’s there to say? She’s pretty, powerful fruit, fun to be around. Did she really break your nose?”

Ace was surprised at their mature responses. He thought they’d be eating him alive for all the information you’d brought up or for how hard he’d tried to impress you. There was something about seeing you again that made him feel exactly as he did when he was a boy. You were so cool, so charming, so sexy. He had always tried to impress you, but he never felt like he measured up. Maybe now he could redeem himself. 

“Yeah, she did. She was so angry she punched me in the face, still completely nude after getting out of the river.” Ace still remembered your perfect boobs from that day. He had thought about them…many times over his teen years.

“High spirited,” Thatch said, looking for a waitress to order another beer. 

“Yeah, you could say that,” Ace thought back on some of his memories with you. Most were fun, hunting, trapping, foraging, things like that. You’d taught him how to play cards, how to cheat at cards, how to tie knots, how to do a lot of basic things that no one had bothered to teach him. You were a shining spot in a rather bleak childhood and he’d held onto your memory dearly. Yes, he had Luffy, but he’d always been watching over Luffy, protecting him. Until you left, he felt like there was someone watching over him . 

“When was the last time you saw each other?” Izou asked, swirling his sake gently.

“Oh, well, we met when I was 11 and she left when I was 13… so she would have been 15, I think? She sailed off the island and I didn’t hear from her again. We’re only a couple years apart in age.”

Marco furrowed his brow. “She set sail at 15 yoi? With her family?” 

Ace shook his head. “No, she lived alone. No family. She just up and left one day,” Ace said, shrugging. It had broken his heart when he’d realized you really weren’t coming back for him. The two of you had talked endlessly about leaving Dawn Island, but he always thought you’d do it together. 

“So, she lived by herself as an orphan child, in the mountains, and set sail alone at 15? What the fuck was happening on your island yoi? She’s lucky to be alive and not enslaved.” Ace hadn’t really thought about it that way. It was all normal to him - he was basically feral until Makino and Sabo had helped him. Why did you set sail so young? Maybe he’d ask you tomorrow. 

“And what about those portals, man?” Thatch exclaimed, getting his hands on a frosty glass. “Really interesting. I wonder if she fights with ‘em. Like you think you’re gonna slice her but bam! You’ve just stabbed yourself in the side.” The others agreed, and talked about various applications they’d use it for. Marco, of course, was curious about its medical application and if it could be used surgically. Ace’s imagination ran wild when he saw your power. He really wanted to see more of it in action. 

“Well, you’re all gonna hafta wait to find out,” Ace declared. “None of you are welcome to meet up with her tomorrow.” He folded his arms across his chest.

“And why is that Squace ?” Izou said with a grin. Ah, there it was. It was bound to happen sooner or later. He knew with the kind of details that you’d shared there’d be no way they could resist the bait. 

“Yeah, show us your forehead!” Thatch reached for Ace’s neck, trying to get him into a headlock. Thatch wrestled with Ace playfully while Izou and Marco watched, cheering Thatch on.

“We wanna see the square yoi!” 

“Is that why you have those curtain bangs? And wear that hideous hat?”

“C’mon Thatch, aim for his sides yoi, he’s ticklish!” 

“Don’t let his dreaminess get in your way!” 

It was all good fun. Ace wasn’t using his fruit power and Thatch was a good wrestler so it was pretty even. They had to stop when they smashed a table and got in trouble with the waitress. Afterwards, they walked back to the Moby Jr, where they were all sleeping for the night. Maybe Ace should rent a hotel room for tomorrow? Nah, that would be too much. He didn’t know if you were actually interested or just being a flirt. Either way, he was looking forward to seeing you tomorrow night. 

~~~

Your POV

You took your time getting ready to meet up with Ace. You were traveling through the Grand Line alone, so you didn’t have a ton of stuff with you. You were always ready to leave at a moment’s notice, grab-and-go style. Even so, you put in your best effort.  He was so good looking, he had to have a lot of experience with women. You wanted to live up to his expectations. You gave yourself a final twirl in the bathroom mirror and left your hotel room. Well, not exactly your room, you weren’t paying for it. You just portaled yourself into empty rooms and it usually worked out just fine.

Ace was even better looking in person than you’d seen in his posters. Sure, you pulled whenever you wanted to, but this was Ace . You’d thought about him so many times over the years, the sweet kisses you’d shared together as you “taught him how to kiss properly.” He was so special to you, really the only good thing that had ever happened to you on that shithole island. Sure you could be witty and flirty, but beneath that was an intense desire to not completely fuck this up.

You arrived at the bar around 6 and took a seat. You didn’t see him yet, and portaled yourself a beer while you waited. It was always amusing to switch things around and watch people’s confusion. You had just switched a guy’s fork and knife back and forth for the fifth time when you spotted Ace through the window. You’d enjoyed meeting his fellow Commanders but hoped they wouldn’t join in. You smiled and raised your glass, showing him you were there. He smiled that beautiful 1,000 watt smile that made your heart stop. He walked up to your table and plopped down. 

“What’s cookin’, good lookin’?” You couldn’t stop yourself, teasing him was so fun and easy.

“What’s going on, Dreamy? Starting without me?” You grinned and portaled him a menu to look for something to drink. Ace took the menu cheerfully. 

“What are you drinking? Looks good.” 

“Oh, ah, I just sort of grabbed it, I’m not sure where it is on the menu.” You didn’t offer to take the menu either.

“Isn’t that nice, you taking care of me on the first date?”

“ Is this our first date? I seem to recall some other times we were together…” The two of you spent hours together, drinking and chatting, reminiscing over old memories. It felt you’d been separated for months, not years. You’d clicked since the moment you’d met as kids and things were no different now. 

After your first round, he handed you the menu again. “Whatcha thinking about drinking next?” You glanced over it but didn’t take it from him.

“You pick, I don’t care.”

After a few hours and many drinks, you were tipsy and wanted to get a little more forward with your flirting. 

“Ace, let’s get out of here. I wanna take a walk.” You didn’t wait for his response, just made a large portal, grabbed his arm, and brought him through it. You held him up by his waist since it was disorienting the first few times to go through a portal. He sagged against you, looking a little worse for the wear. 

“But what about the bill, we didn’t pay -”

You waved off his concern. “I left money on the table. I know you’ll be here a few more days, I won’t getcha banned from the place. Don’t worry about it.” You weren’t lying, you did actually pay for the drinks you’d ordered. With someone else’s money. Usually you’d just portal yourself some money from a marine base or some noble’s house when you needed some cash. So what? It wasn’t like the Marines or some fat cats would miss a few thousand Beri. You weren’t exactly a pirate, you didn’t have a crew or your own boat. You just sailed around for work, taking what you wanted and then leaving. It was similar-ish to piracy but not exactly the same. Your moral compass didn’t have any objections and your wallet didn’t either. 

Ace recuperated quickly and was excited at having gone through a portal. You could tell he was going to start asking you more questions, so you put your hand on his shoulder and backed him into the brick wall right behind him. You put your hand on the wall behind him, even though he was taller than you.

“Ace, you wanna try something I’ve been thinking about?” Ace nodded solemnly. You slowly inched your face closer to his, bringing your mouth near his face. Ace put his hands around your waist, bringing you closer. You gripped his bare shoulders tightly and exhaled into his ear. Ace shivered but didn’t move. You knew what he thought was going to happen but you couldn’t resist. 

“Do you wanna try joining our devil fruit powers together?” you whispered seductively into his ear. You thought you’d tease him but he quickly turned the tables on you. He leaned back further against the wall and leaned his foot against it, like he was getting comfortable. He moved one of his hands from your waist to behind your neck, pulling you even closer.

“I can think of something else I’d like to do together,” he whispered as an answer. You loved seeing this side of Ace. Maybe he’d gotten his footing after catching up with you at the bar. “It’s been a while since my last lesson. I’d like to show you what I’ve learned.”

“I’d like that too,” you said huskily. He brought both of his hands up to cradle your face, bringing his lips down to your own. You were looking up at his freckled face, yearning written all over yours.

“I can tie a monkey’s fist knot in under two minutes,” he said, ghosting his lips on yours as he spoke. He didn’t kiss you, just released your face from his hands and returned them to your waist. Your mouth dropped open and he closed it with his palm, like you’d done to him. It was your turn to flush while he smirked. Oh, he’d grown up all right. 

Once your face returned to a normal color, you punched Ace in the shoulder. “That’s not funny!”

“I think it’s pretty funny,” Ace said languidly. You huffed, but smiled after. You liked playing the game as much as he did.

“I do wanna try combining our powers though, for real. I wanna see if we can send flames through a portal.” Ace’s eyes lit up. 

~~~

It wasn’t even a big fire on the Moby Jr., you didn’t see what the issue was. It was put out pretty quickly, too. Besides, Ace had set the ship on fire before, you could see the scorch marks on the deck. Yes, it was late at night and everyone was sleeping but you had successfully combined your powers, wasn’t that interesting? The Phoenix apparently did not think so.

“What were you thinking yoi?” Marco said, shaking his head at the two of you. You felt like you were being scolded by a parent. You were gonna let Ace take the lead on this one.

“Um…we were trying to see if we could find a new battle strategy?” Ace answered, trying to see if that would satisfy Marco.

“Why would you want to battle our own ship yoi?” Marco replied, exasperated. You snickered, what a bad answer. “And you, Dreamy,” Marco said, rounding on you, “I expected better from you.” Your laughter stopped in the face of the stern half transformed Phoenix in front of you. Dang, this is what guilt felt like. 

“We can fix it in the morning. What do we need? Wood? Money?” You weren’t worried. You could get those things no problem. There was a Marine base on the other side of the island, easy pickings.

Marco had a chilling grin on his face. “Oh no, yoi. You have to buff that out by hand. Sandpaper, vinegar, that kind of thing. See you tomorrow, bright and early yoi.” Marco walked away, smoothing his feathers. You glared at Ace behind Marco’s back. 

“What?! It wasn’t all my fault! I don’t control the portals!” You weren’t actually mad, it had been really fun to blast things with fire, even if it meant more work tomorrow. And yes, maybe you had partially been at fault. But it’s not like you were going to disobey the First Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates, so you’d be working with Ace tomorrow morning to fix the ship. You’d had worse jobs.  You put your arm around his waist and leaned your head on his shoulder.

“Guess I’ll be under you tomorrow, Commander. Maybe for the whole day,” you said silkily.

“I can be a stern taskmaster, hope you’re up for it,” he cooed.

“I’ve been known to enjoy a little strict supervision now and again,” you murmured close to his ear.

“Goodnight, Squace.” You turned to him and stood on your toes, asking with your eyes once more for a kiss. 

“Goodnight, Dreamy,” as he leaned in to capture your lips with his, you escaped through a portal at your feet in the last second, leaving only the echoing sound of your laughter. 

[delulu-is-the-soluluh]

Scars of Flames and Shadows | Chap 2

Chap 1 | Chap 3

A Dark!Rowaelin x afab!Reader

(Temporary) Summary:  Aelin and Y/N shared a deep bond since childhood, growing up together in the royal courts of Terrasen as their innocent crushes hinted at a future romance. However, the invasion of Adarlan shattered their world. Aelin was forced to become Celaena, while Y/N stayed behind, joining the rebellion and becoming their most lethal spy, never ceasing to look for the princess. That is until she accidentally meets with a famous assassin who’s eyes she knows for so long.

Warnings: Lots of pining. Drama (I’m a drama queen); Set one month before the events of AB.

Chapter 2 | The Assassin and The Spy

Celaena pov:

I can’t believe Arobynn had the audacity to send me to this decrepit part of Rifthold. And yes, it was business and the client offered a decent sum, but I can’t ignore this scum of the place. It truly reflected just how much the client despised the target: an abusive father, slain at his daughter's request. He often came around here to buy drugs and alcohol before returning home to “demonstrate” his fragile masculinity to his family.

Typically, I would have a little bit of fun with this type of job: I get to have one less abuser in the world and explore new ‘methods’. I was inspired tonight. Had a plan and everything. But he had to die within thirty minutes.  I had hoped to spend at least half the night relieving some tension. Instead, I was left fuming in a rat hole, my clothes way too fine for this, feeling grotesquely out of place, breathing a repugnant smell of air, and so frustrated.

That’s why I stood in the doorway of a filthy bar, scanning the dim interior, sulking about this crap of evening. I needed to find a way to blow off steam. A brawl in a dingy bar seemed like the perfect escape—losing myself in a little chaos might help to drown out the boredom gnawing at me.

Thankfully an opportunity soon presented itself. One of the drunken patrons made a lewd comment accusing me, rightfully so, of cheating in a card game. A few snarky remarks later, and they were on it. Fists flew, chairs splintered, and bodies collided in a whirlwind of aggression. For a moment, I was lost in the cathartic release. But it still wasn't enough. Their punches were too amateur and the chaos didn’t bring me any relief.

As the brawl raged on, I stumbled toward the door, the sense of agitation pressed more intensely against my ribs. I was about to slip out when I collided with someone. I was ready to throw them on the floor but they kept balance. So I looked up, ready to lash out again, only for shock hit me like a tidal wave. 

It couldn’t be. She wasn’t supposed to be alive—Arobynn had said...

But there she was. Y/N was before me, alive and well, her eyes wide and surprised as I could hear my heart in my ears: She recognized me 

Without a second thought, I turned and bolted. I couldn’t let her see me like this, couldn’t risk my identity or her safety. Despair clawed at my chest as I ran. Y/N was alive. She survived, she.. Why was she here? What was she doing in Adarlan?

The sound of footsteps behind me broke through my thoughts and I dared to look behind. Fuck she was fast, faster than I remembered. My breath quickened, and I pushed myself harder, darting through alleys and leaping over obstacles. I scaled walls with ease, my movements fluid and precise. But Y/N kept up, relentlessly stubborn still.

I darted across the rooftops hoping to lose Y/N in the maze of buildings, until the sound of her steps began to fade. “Finally,” I thought, dropping down into a secluded alley. I leaned against the wall, ripping off my mask to catch my breath. How did this happen? How had she found me, and if so where was Aedion?

It was just a glimpse. A breathtaking glimpse and I didn't even know I could still feel that, let alone be.. I need to put myself together. ‘I’m Celaena Sardothien, Adarlan’s best assassin, heir and prote-’

A soft thud echoed in front of me interrupting my thoughts and I looked up, alarmed. The moon casted a pale light over the narrow passage as Y/N stepped forward, her eyes widening in recognition and disbelief. A smile began to bloom on her lips as she parted them to speak. “My gods… It is you…”

Gods she was beautiful. Her voice, matured and raspy, struck me with a wave of conflicting emotions way too strong for my liking. My heart leapt, but I forced myself to stay as composed as I can be, my gaze cold and unyielding as Y/N walked toward me.

“Ael-” She didn’t get a chance to finish as I ran toward her, lunging to bring her down. I need to escape before any more questions or emotions could complicate matters.

I wasn't expecting when she fought back, quick on her reflexes and certain astonishment upon her face. She still ducked and twisted, blocking my initial strike with a defensive posture. “Please, stop,” Y/N gasped, her voice edged with desperation as she tried to fend off my assault.

I was fierce, aiming to bring her down rather than maim. I landed a few solid blows, but Y/N’s instincts kept her from falling.Pride started to bloom in my chest, to know she’s skilled and trained. It was thrilling and.. a bit exciting. Each time I tried to pin her down, She dodged or countered with quick, fluid movements. 

As I moved in to grapple Y/N, I attempted to pin her against the wall. Y/N twisted free, striking back with a powerful kick to my midsection, forcing me to stagger back. Her eyes were full of anguish and determination as she panted, “Why are you doing this? Aelin...”

“Who the hell is Aelin?” I said through gritted teeth, trying to maintain control and balance of the fight.

Her face crumbled, eyes flooding with pain before anger quickly took its place. I could barely react before she came at me and pinned me down to the floor. Damn, she was strong. Finally, a worthy opponent. I grinned, ready to free myself when Y/N's eyes revealed nothing but anguish.“You don’t fool me... Please, all I ask for is one moment...” Her voice was low and filled with despair. “I can’t let you go again...” 

Her plea struck me like a physical blow. The world around me seemed to blur as my resolve wavered under her gaze. She seemed to sense the shift in my demeanor. With a fluid motion, she released her hold and gently helped me to my feet. Despite the urgency of our confrontation, her touch was careful, almost tender—as if she were handling something precious, even in the midst of our struggle.

The walls I had built around myself slowly began to crumble, leaving me exposed to a torrent of memories and feelings I had long buried. The tension was replaced by a fragile silence that spoke volumes. I couldn't let this happen—I had to maintain my control.

“I’ve been looking for you... non-stop,” Y/N’s voice was breathy and raw. “I’ve been looking for clues, for leads, and—”

The sharp sound of my dagger being retrieved from my sheath cut through the air. “Stop deluding yourself. You’re not the hero here, you’re just a nuisance I’ve been trying to avoid. So save your tears and get out of my way.”

It was uncalled for. Hypocritical even, when the embellished hilt of my blade concealed our necklaces. So insincere when “Celaena” is named because of it. Rage flashed into her eyes and never left mine as she strode to me, grabbing my wrist, pulling me in and aiming my dagger at her fifth rib. 

“Kill me then.” A heartbeat passed “ it only proves how deeply you're haunted by it” 

my eyes astonished by her recklessness as a bitter smirk appeared on her face. “What part of ‘I can’t let you go’ don’t you understand?” Her voice filled with agony and determination. Her proximity allowed her gaze to drift to my lips. I couldn’t help but do the same to her. “Just one moment... I’m begging you.”

I sighed as I met Y/N’s determined gaze. “Alright,” I whispered. “One moment.”

The full moonlight was nothing compared to the smile she gave me.

I reached the small, rundown inn a couple of streets away from that alley for its privacy and minimal patronage, making it safer for our conversation. Entering the dimly lit room, I was greeted by the musty smell of old wood and worn fabric. I closed the door behind us and turned to face Y/N. Before I could say anything, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me in a tight embrace. “I knew it you were alive,” she murmured against my shoulder, her voice breaking with emotion.

I stood frozen for a moment, the warmth of her embrace seeping through the cold barriers I had built around my heart. Slowly, I raised my arms and returned the hug, my body trembling with the flood of suppressed emotions. “I missed you,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

We pulled back slightly, Y/N’s hands resting gently on my shoulders. Our eyes locked in a tender gaze. “Can you tell me what happened then? What’s been going on?” she murmured softly, concern evident in her voice. I hesitated before shaking my head slightly, guiding her to sit on the worn bed. “I want to hear from you first,” I said quietly. “Tell me what’s been happening with you.”

She nodded and took a deep breath, her eyes searching mine for strength as she began to recount her story. She shared everything—from the night we survived to Aedion and the Rebellion, her training, and her arguments with Darrow, which made me laugh a little; some things never changed. I felt a deep sense of relief at hearing that Aedion was alive and well. It was a comfort to know that amidst all the chaos, someone I cared about was safe and thriving

I did the same right after. I recounted my story in detail—how I survived that night and became Celaena and everything that happened during these years. As I spoke, Y/N’s face clouded with sorrow and regret, her eyes reflecting the weight of my suffering. Her heartache was visible and deepened with each revelation about my life in the Guild and the isolation I endured. Her hand gripped mine tightly, as if trying to hold onto me amidst the flood of emotions. A vivid reminder of our shared past and the emotional cost of our separation.

Y/N’s eyes widened in shock. “I can’t believe you’re Celaena Sardothien,” she breathed, a trembling laugh escaping her. “Earlier tonight, I joked about how someone must be incredibly lucky to find you. Turns out, I was right.”

I nodded, a bitter smile touching my lips as Y/N took in the gravity of my words. “All this time… you were right here, so close yet so distant.”

“I did what I had to do to survive, even if it meant hiding in plain sight.”  I replied, my voice heavy with regret. Y/N reached out, her fingers brushing against mine. "We’ve both paid our prices. But we’re here now and we have a chance to fight back, to reclaim what was lost." I pulled my hand away, the flicker of hope dimming. "I can’t..." Y/N shook her head lightly, looking at me with confusion. “What do you mean you can’t?”

“I can’t go with you, Y/N. I’m stuck with the Guild. Arobynn keeps track of every ‘investment’ he makes in me,” I said softly, looking at my hands.

“I can pay. I’ll pay your debt and we’ll go—” Y/N said with determination, but I cut her off with a sigh. “It’s an insane amount of money...” I answered, a bitter taste in my mouth, realizing how much I had spent on whims and quirks.

Y/N went still for a moment, analyzing my features as she said quietly, "Have you ever thought of coming back? Of reclaiming your throne?" I was silent, my expression unreadable. Y/N’s frustration grew as her eyes turned cold. "You never even considered it, did you?"

"I thought no one survived," I tried to explain, my voice strained, still not looking at her. "That's what I was told. That everyone was dead." Y/N grabbed my hand, searching for my eyes, voice fierce.

"But now we know that’s not true. I’m here, Aedion is alive and so are Ren, Darrow - Hell even Maurtaugh is alive! And there’s the rebellion, an army that we’re building for you…” She shook her head, as if trying to understand a puzzle “Does that change anything?"

I looked away, the silence heavy between us. The weight of my choices and fears hung in the air, leaving me speechless. Y/N’s gaze softened but remained resolute “You’re scared that Arobynn will come and report us, right? It’s not because you’ve given up.. isn't it?”

I stood quiet and after what felt like hours, I looked at Y/N, guilt, sadness, and shame evident in my eyes. “Aelin Galathynius is dead.” I whispered. I almost could feel Y/N’s heart wrenched at my words, but she didn’t back down. Her grip tightened on my hand, a mixture of pain and determination in her eyes.

“If she is truly dead, then we'll let her go. But you and I... we’re still here. We can still fight, still reclaim what was lost. Crowned or not” Y/N’s voice wavered but held a steely resolve. “I can’t do this alone, we can’t do this alone. And if you won’t come back for yourself, then come back for the people who still believe in you, in her.”

My eyes flickered with conflicting emotions, my mind racing with the weight of my choices. I swallowed hard as I reached into my pocket and pulled out my ornate dagger. “There’s something I need to give you,” I said softly, handing it to Y/N. “Our necklaces... they’re inside the hilt. I kept them all these years.”

Y/N’s eyes widened as she traced the intricate design of the dagger, her fingers trembling. When she carefully opened the hilt, revealing the hidden necklaces, tears welled up in her eyes. She looked back at me with a mix of relief and sorrow. “I thought I had lost mine,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

A bittersweet smile touched my lips. “It got stuck in my dress that night and fell onto the bed... I couldn’t let go of it. Not completely. Not of you.”

The weight of the moment hung heavily between us, the past and present colliding in a whirlwind of emotions. Y/N stepped closer, her voice barely above a whisper. “If Aelin is gone, then let me say goodbye to her properly.”

The intensity of her gaze held me captive. I felt my heart race as she closed the distance between us. Our breaths mingled, charged with a longing that had been suppressed for far too long. I whispered Y/N’s name as her fingers brushed against my cheek, her touch gentle yet electrifying. “We’ve both been carrying this weight for too long,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “Let's just be who we really are, even if just for tonight.” The room seemed to shrink around us, the air heavy with unspoken promises. As she leaned in, I felt the pull of her warmth and the magnetism of her presence. 

Our lips met in a slow, tender kiss—my first ever. Why had I denied myself this connection for so long?—The softness of her lips against mine was both startling and comforting, as if all the years of hidden longing and unspoken passion had found their voice in this single, perfect moment. Her hands gently traveled through my hair, caressing the back of my neck and resting on my waist, as if trying to memorize this moment. I responded in kind, my fingers brushing her cheek, slipping into her hair, and exploring the contours of her back. The kiss deepened, a dance of passion and vulnerability, filled with the weight of what could have been and the hope of what might still be. 

Our kiss lingered, a bittersweet testament to what we had lost and what might still be. When we finally parted, breathless and trembling, I looked into her eyes, seeing the raw emotion that mirrored my own. “I love you,” she whispered, her voice thick with undeniable sincerity, her fingers caressing my cheeks. “I’ll be waiting for you, no matter how long it takes. So please... think about what I’ve offered.”

My resolve wavered for just a moment as I took a step back, the storm of emotions threatening to consume me. "I can't go with you," I said, my voice barely a whisper but cutting through the silence like a knife. "There's too much at stake. And If I stay any longer, the Guild will notice. They'll come after you and then after the rebellion.." Each word felt like a dagger to my heart, but I forced myself to continue as I shook my head. "I can’t."

The pain in her eyes was almost unbearable, and I felt my heart shatter in response. "So that's it, then?" Her voice cracked, filled with a bitterness that stung more than any blade. "You're staying here while I... I just leave?"

My eyes brimmed with unshed tears. "I'm sorry. This is the only way I can keep you safe." She nodded, her expression a mix of disbelief and sorrow. "Okay," she managed to say, though the word sounded hollow, devoid of hope. "I understand."

The finality of it hung between us, a suffocating weight. I watched her as she took a deep breath, looked at the dagger in her hands and stood up; Walking towards the door, each step she took felt like a piece of my soul was being torn away. 

The silence behind her was deafening, and with each step, the distance between us grew wider. As the door closed, I fought the urge to call out to her, to change my mind, to run after her and leave everything behind. But I knew I couldn't. I sank onto the hollow bed, the ache of her absence a fierce, unrelenting force. Each breath felt like a struggle as I felt my eyes tear up. What a painful reminder of lost possibilities. 

I took my time to build my walls again, to put on the mask of savagery and cruelty that for so long has been mine. When I finally stood up, the numbness that enveloped me was profound, my steps heavy as I left the inn behind, stepping into a world that felt colder than ever. 

Author’s note: I tried to keep close to the character but I think I’ve failed :/

It was tricky, since Celaena has a push and pull behavior with “new” people and only opens up after a 'life or death' situation (as we see with Sam and some scenes with Ansel in AB) while Aelin it is in fact more in touch with her feelings (but still a keeper of them) and tends to show her vulnerable side at first to her family (like after rescuing Aedion in QoS and her first encounter with Elide in EoS). My idea was to demonstrate the Celaena/Aelin egos clashing but I think it didn't work.

But please have faith in me and I promise you that the good stuff is about to come. Just give me like two more chapters (maybe one) and you’ll hear a jealous hawk screeching and too many people living under the same roof :D

Thank you for all the reblogs and likes, it means the world to me <3

Tag List (omg my first taglist aknsjd)

@acourtofbatboydreams @throneofsapphics

[cocoa-rococo]

Koopaling Headcanons: Larry

Larry | Morton | Wendy | Iggy | Roy | Lemmy | Ludwig

Everyone's favorite little brother and general pest for plumbers! He's just a lil' rascal.

Right handed.

His love of tennis originally started as a way to stand out from his siblings, but eventually, he really enjoyed the sensation of playing.

He became a big fan of a Horse Girl animated show after the Olympics, but is super embarrassed about it and won't tell anyone because he thinks it wrecks his ‘cool guy’ image.

Red-green colorblind.

He likes painting with Bowser Jr, and he's a decent comic artist, but he's pretty shy about showing people his work, partially stemming from feeling inferior to Ludwig.

Hypoglycemic. Combine that with his age and his tennis hobby, this boy burns through glucose like a powder trail. It's also partially why he eats so much.

Very much a visual learner, as he tunes out if people tell him things without example, and gets frustrated if asked to try and do something on his own / with his hands and zero instruction.

A frighteningly good pickpocket. He once had a conversation with Bowser and managed to take off all five of his spiked cuffs in three minutes. It's only when he returned them did Bowser even realize they were gone.

He's a big fan of milkshakes, especially chocolate ones. Also a big fan of blowing his straw wrapper at his siblings before he drinks, and blowing bubbles in his drink if he's thinking.

Favorite breakfast food is waffles, with butter, syrup, chocolate chips, and fruit.

Can beatbox almost anything, and he's learning how to breakdance, too. He likes looking up tutorials and practicing in his room for both the space and privacy.

He does gaming streams in his free time, mostly online team-based games or RPGs that let you sink hours of play into useless but fulfilling sidequests. Gaming companies love him because they’ll get guaranteed sales if they offer a trial.

Has a pretty good head for directions, but only for cities. If you tell him you need to find a building from a particular place, he'll give you precise instructions on where to go. Highways and roadmaps are a completely different story.

That said, he got lost so often as a kid that Ludwig gifted him a compass, and he carries it with him constantly.

Not really a flower person, but ever since he got an anonymous bouquet of them, he's got a small appreciation for forget-me-nots.

He's a big fan of punk rock bands, and would love to attend a concert (and be a professional rockstar).

Favorite fruit is either strawberries or pears, but one of his favorite treats is caramel apples.

He’s got a leather jacket that's got a big star bedazzled on the back. It’s his prized possession because he thinks it makes him look cool (and it does, marginally).

Saw a flyer for a new DJ at the Electrodrome and applied on a whim. He got hired (much to his surprise), and greatly enjoys his work. In fact, his time learning the electronics is what inspired his light company.

Likes watching baking and cooking shows with Morton, but while Morton watches to improve and get ideas for recipes, Larry watches to yell at the contestants, because what the FUCK, Michael!!!!! Don’t put your custard on a high temperature, it!!! Is going!!!!!! To curdle!!!!!!!!!!!!

Legitimately has a very good palate for food, and can point out individual flavors where others can't. He will also visit a five-star restaurant and order chicken tenders off the kids menu.

One of his favorite things to do when he was a kid was hiding around the castle and pretending he was a spy; listening in on conversations and writing them down, coming up with codes, always carrying a walkie-talkie, the works. It started his earlier pictographic babble, and what lead him to being such a sneakster later on.

Can and will cheat outrageously at any card, board, dice, or wheel game. Not at video games, though. Those are sacred. That and laser tag.

Looooves chocolate, especially fudge. Do not let him get anywhere near fudge.

He was a shark kid growing up. He dreamed of visiting the aquarium for his birthday, and when he finally got to do so, came home with an armload of various shark plushies and memorabilia.

A big fan of giving and receiving nicknames. Bowser once called him ‘blueberry’ and he cried about it for like seven minutes.

He’s got an admiration for Princess Daisy, for both her fearless attitude and tennis skills.

Favorite candy is gummy worms, but is really fond of sour stuff, too, along with super sugary energy drinks.

Loves sci-fi books / comics and mecha anime with Iggy, but personally loves the adventure genre with pirates and treasure hunters and wild westerns.

Has a private stash of snacks he keeps hidden in rotation for both late night munchies and keeping away from his siblings.

Genuinely likes cooking, but baking feels too precise for him. That said, he's more then happy to taste the end results of both.

Likes going skating with Wendy and Lemmy. He keeps trying complicated moves and keeps running into the walls.

Runs a recipe blog that doubles as a restaurant critique and rating site. It's gotten surprisingly popular.

[duckymcdoorknob]

𝓣𝓲𝓬𝓴𝓵𝓮𝓽𝓸𝓫𝓮𝓻 𝓭𝓪𝔂 14: 𝓢𝓸𝓯𝓽

Me when- when the- when-

I love them, your honor.

I wanna go to Waffle House.

WOOHOO WELCOME TO TKTOBER IN NOVEMBER GUYS LETS SEE HOW LONG IT TAKES ME TO GET THEM DONE

Tags: @chrimsss @ticklish-n-stuff bc you helped me ❤️❤️❤️

—This do have tickles below the cut ngl—

The life of a forest ranger is never dull, and boy is the stress never-ending. It’s almost impossible for Tighnari to come back to his hut unscathed and unaffected by the day. This day in particular, he actually managed to cheat death!

Except, now he can’t sleep.

There’s zero work to be done, the hut is clean, his clothes are hanging to dry, Collei is completely taken care off, dinner has been cooked and dishes washed, workspace tidy, floor clean, nothing.

His mind raced through what could possibly be the issue, but he’s yet to find one.

Sighing, he threw his hands over his eyes before standing up and sliding on his slippers. He gently trudged past Collei, stepping outside for a moment.

The fennec shivered a bit as he draped a cardigan around himself. He glided to the hill near his hut and stood quietly, arms crossed. A chuckle broke him from his trance.

“You look like a wife waiting for her husband to return from the war.”

Tighnari gasped, summoning his bow in that moment. He groaned out a sigh of relief, letting his shoulders slump down and putting up his weapon. “Nice to see you too, Cyno. You spying on me?” he grumbled.

“Hey, I was here first; you were too busy being a war wife to notice me sitting here… Hey, great reaction time by the way.”

“Ugh, you’re such a- nevermind…“ the dendro user was far too exhausted to even argue, instead opting to lay down next to his dear friend and place his arms behind his head.

The general turned to look at him fondly, a small smile gracing his features. “So, what brings you here?”

“I just can’t seem to fall asleep. All of my work is done, but I just don’t feel the need to rest,” Tighnari replied in exasperation, resting his hands on his eyes.

“Do you want relief, or someone to just let you feel your feelings?” the white-haired man hummed.

“I want to say both, but I just want to get to sleep…” the bow user murmured.

“Alright, come here.”

Cyno reached out to the man next to him, waiting for him to react. Tighnari opted to grab onto Cyno’s hand, eliciting a chuckle from the latter. “What?” he grumbled.

“I was offering for you to lay on me, but this works too.”

“Oh…” the fennec hummed, scooting closer and draping atop of his friend. “Oh, yeah… this does feel nice.”

The general grinned and brought a hand up to gently card his finger’s through the black and green mess of hair in front of his eyes. He gently raked his nails down Tighnari’s head.

Tighnari’s eyes fluttered shut and his head lolled to rest on Cyno’s chest. A pleasant sigh escaped his mouth as he fully relaxed.

“See, you are tired; your mind is just completely overstimulated right now, so it’s keeping you awake,” Cyno replied in a low voice, bringing his hands up to scratch at the bow user’s ears.

Breathy giggles suddenly escaped the other male.

“Oh? Come on now, don’t tell me you’re ticklish here too?”

“Yohohohoure suhuhuch ahaha buhuhully,” the fennec whimpered, unmoving.

Cyno smiled fondly at Tighnari’s sweet giggles, caressing his ears with ticklish touches. His other arm wrapped securely around the latter’s waist. “Gasp, I’m no bully,” he deadpanned, “I would never. After how nice I was to help you…”

“Cynohohoho. Yohohouhuhure- pfffahaha-“

“I’m what? I’ve never heard of that adjective before. Have you and Alhaitham been hanging out without me?”

Tighnari groaned through his giggles as he lay still on Cyno’s torso.

The general’s heart skipped a beat when the fennec weakly reached for his hand, hoping to stop the ticklish scratches. “Aht aht, I’m trying to help you sleep.”

“Nohohoho- yohohou’re tihihickling mehehe.”

“Tickling you? No… if I was trying to tickle you, I would’ve gone for your feet.” A wider smile tugged at his lips as he felt Tighnari instinctively cross his ankles to protect the sensitive spot.

The hand on the exhausted male’s waist poked and prodded ever so gently, tracing light circles over the forest ranger’s back and sides. Sleepy giggles emitted from him as his eyes continued to open and flutter closed. “Cynohohoho.”

“Mmm?”

“Thahahahanks.”

The general ceased all movement, wondering what Tighnari could’ve meant. He called his name; no response was given. When he tried again, he realized that the forest ranger had finally fallen asleep.

As carefully as he could, Cyno guided the latter into his arms, letting his head rest against his chest.

Their walk back to his hut was silent, but it was a long one. A million thoughts were in his head, yet Cyno said no words.

When he returned and entered the humble home, he was greeted by a bleary-eyed Collei getting some water. He pursed his lips and shushed her gently, resulting in a smile and a nod from the girl.

Laying the man down feet first—he remembered Tighnari saying that it worked on babies, so maybe it’ll work on people— and gently caressing his cheek, the general bid him farewell.

A hand grabbed his wrist as he turned around. “stay.”

Cyno exhaled fondly, settling down and taking Tighnari in his arms. Tighnari cuddled close to him and smiled in satisfaction; Cyno had to take a moment to keep himself from blushing too hard, then planted a small kiss on the ranger’s forehead.

—

BONUS:

Later on, Collei returned to the kitchen for some more water. On the way in, she noticed a bigger mess of blankets on her master’s bed.

Curiously, she opened the cracked door and laughed to herself. Retreating quickly, she grabbed her Kamera from her nightstand and took a quick photo. After securing the device and photos, she happily snuggled between the two, smiling in safety.

Her family…

—————♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎—————

[mandareeboo]

Here's an ask: Got any Generator Rex headacnons or ideas from what you've seen of it so far?

Just a few basic ones! (And no spoilers, please!)

Nanites work a lot like cancer cells. It's a mutation of the body itself. They can be benign, or they can be SUPER malignant.

Rex can play most any card game but he doesn't know how to play them correctly. Bobo Haha taught him to cheat only.

6 is Rex's legal guardian- can sign him into and out of hospitals, etc. Neither one of them like to discuss how he's legally Rex's dad.

This guy?

Hates his job.

Rex is ambidextrous but out of necessity; he was born left-handed.

Noah is some rich kid whose dad wanted to get in good with Providence and got him the job of "spying" on Rex

Holiday's sister is younger than her and it eats Holiday up inside

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Actually, while we're on the topic of pets, what pets do you see the others with?

[Referencing this post!]

I'll (slightly) cheat and condense everyone into their groups, then say "whatever animals fit the motif of their respective character/film". There's some notes for each boy as well, but not always in the most intense of details. (Please keep in mind that this is only covering the main 22 students from NRC!!) Heartslabyul already tends to hedgehogs and flamingos, so those could be common creatures to have as pets/familiars (especially among the card soldiers like Cater, Trey, Deuce, and Ace) Alternatively, there could be other animals from Alice in Wonderland such as cats (for the Cheshire Cat), oysters, living flowers, walruses, dormouses, rabbits/hares, etc. If we want to stray outside of the dorm motifs, a chameleon for Ace (since he has a talent for mimicking people)?? Cater with a fox because of how crafty he can be?? (I don't feel super strong on this choice.) Trey is Normal so a cat or a dog for him!! The dog could be useful for sniffing out special ingredients while a cat is fitting because Trey's VA also voices Lucius... And of course, Deuce deserves a chicken so it can lay many eggs! Riddle I see getting one of the standard pets because "it's the rule/tradition at Heartslabyul!" Uhhh, mostly savanna animals for Savanaclaw I guess?? But again, the same moral debate I mentioned in the original post still applies here. (Like, would it be weird for a lion/wolf/hyena beastman such as Leona/Jack/Ruggie to have a lion/wolf/hyena as a pet/familiar???) Octavinelle would have a lot of aquatic creatures as pets/familiars. I think the "perfect" pet/familiar to match Azul's image would be eels (to mimic Ursula). Not sure what Jade or Floyd would have (the JP fandom uses a dolphin and a shark emoji, respectively, to refer to them so maybe those)?? But since Jade is the informant for the group, I'm thinking something small and agile so he can send it to spy for him. (Plus, it could chill out in his terrariums for funsies later.) Floyd would have something more aggressive... Scarabia would have unconventional animals from all over Twisted Wonderland! Kalim is someone I see as having many animal friends, so I can't think of just one animal. Maybe a tiger (like Princess Jasmine)? But it's also fun to imagine Kalim riding in on a massive elephant! He was originally supposed to have a monkey familiar (like Aladdin), so I can easily see that happening as well. Jamil has a clearer desire for a specific animal companion, and that would be a parrot. I can also see a snake for... obvious reasons. Maybe a bug to really torment them. Peacock for Vil because he sits in a peacock throne and it has a majestic vibe. A crow or raven also works due to its association with the Evil Queen. Rook, like Kalim, is someone I see with a variety of animals and not a specific one. Whatever his pet/familiar is, it would probably be a skilled hunter. I'm thinking like some kind of predator bird like a hawk or falcon. Epel... nothing immediately comes to mind, but maybe something small and cute but tough like he is. Idia would want a kawaii widdle neko-chan (his words, not mine) to keep as a lap warmer while he aggressive games. Ortho is more of a dog person (yes, this is purely because of his Cerberus Gear card), though I picture him engaging with virtual pets and/or those cybernetic dogs more than like... actual animals. I think Lilia's bats already count as his pets, although they are rarely ever mentioned in dialogue. Silver, as a member of the light trio, is another person that I see with many animals (squirrels, deer, birds, rabbits, etc.). Sebek I feel would shout that every animal is inferior to Malleus and that no pet he has could ever match Malleus's, etc. etc. etc. He's usually associated with crocs, so I think many would gravitate to one as Sebek's pet??? I think it would be funny if his familiar was something small, cute, and kinda pathetic (like a chipmunk or something) so he acts all bashful about it... but hey, I think a horse (so he can ride proudly into combat) also works. Malleus I already covered in the original post linked above.