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hariboz · 5 months

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PROMISE ME…!

“when you don’t tell your boyfriend you’re sick and still perform!”

pairing: idol!bf!ricky x gn!idol!reader

genre: fluff, tiny angst (?)

warning: mention of headaches, blurry vision, nausea and similar symptoms, softie bf!ricky, that’s it i think?

notes: ty to nonnie for requesting this!! i got a little carried away but i got into a pretty good flow writing it so i hope you enjoy 🥹🫶🏻 also!! this is my first time writing idol!reader so i hope it feels somewhat realistic…? as realistic as it can be i guess 😵‍💫

word count: 1.8k (😵‍💫 how and why…)

five, six, seven, eight.

five, six, seven—

“y/n, are you okay?” the voice of your leader rips you out of your trance, your tired eyes meeting in the mirror. you nod and put on a bright, although fake smile in hopes of being reassuring, though you’re not sure you were being all too convincing — either way, none of your members pry, because they understand. they understand the need to push through, especially now with all these end of the year award shows happening; you simply can’t afford to be sick, to fall behind and to be absent from such huge events. so, you decide to push through the dizziness, nausea and pain. you’ll take some medication later, it’ll be fine. (at least that’s what you’re telling yourself when you catch yourself stumbling from the dizziness when you get ready to practice your solo entrance.) even though there is a silent understanding between you and your members, there still is one person you know you won’t be able to convince, no matter how hard you’ll try — your boyfriend and professional overthinker in regards to your well-being, ricky.

it’s quite cute, the juxtaposition of his public image and the way he tends to worry. did you eat? does your throat hurt from vocal practice? did you trip during dance practice again? (a question that’s especially annoying considering you told him about tripping once, roughly six months ago. he refuses to let it go.) he sends you teas and throat sprays to make sure your voice is taken care of, secretly checks the soles of your shoes to make sure they aren’t getting slippery, somehow manages to pack you little snacks you can munch on when you haven’t eaten anything before practice again. he’s very rarely stern, much too soft-spoken and gentle towards you to speak to you in a more serious manner when he’s worried, so he shows his care and love through these things — which makes you feel all the more guilty when you straight up have to lie to him when he asks if practice is going fine, if you’re feeling well, and letting you know how excited he (along with gyuvin, he mentions) is to see you perform in person up close.

you try your hardest to get better before the performance, you really do. well, as much as you can between hours and hours of practice and barely any sleep, at least. all your efforts seem to be in vain, though, because the day of the performance seems to be the worst day yet — if you had a choice, you would bury yourself under every blanket available and not leave your bed for at least a week, that’s how awful you feel when you and your members are picked up from your dorm during the wee hours of the morning.

unfortunately, the little perfectionistic gremlin that lives at the back of your mind refuses to let all these weeks of practice go to waste, so you muster up a brave smile through your shaking pupils and tell your worrying members that you have everything under control — you’ll smash this performance just like all the other ones, even if you have to do it while being a little dizzy. it’s no big deal, you’re a professional after all.

your stylists is making some last minute adjustments to your outfits when a gentle knock sounds through the room, a very familiar blonde head of hair popping in. you rush over to ricky, his arms snaking around you immediately. “hey, handsome,” you mutter as you observe his face, a small grin playing on his lips. “you’re not looking to bad yourself, hm?” his voice is smooth as he brushes some of your hair out of your face, careful to not interfere with your hairstylist’s hard work. you’re thrown off your balance a little when another dizziness spell hits you out of nowhere, the look on ricky’s face immediately morphing into one of concern, “are you okay?”

you muster up a smile and just nod, eyes blinking rapidly to dispel the black dots bouncing around in your vision, “yeah, i’m just a little nervous,” you reach up to adjust his collar to avoid meeting his worried eyes, “i’m fine. just freaking out a little, that’s all.” you can tell ricky doesn’t entirely believe you, but he trusts that you would come to him if there was something wrong — so he reluctantly lets the subject go. he steals a quick kiss to your lips, whispering a “good luck, i love you.” before he turns to leave to make any last preparations for his own performance.

your first wave of regret overcomes you when you stand ready beneath the stage, you and your members getting into position to perform the intro to your performance. your head feels like it’s about to split and your hands are shaky, but it’s too late to turn back now — as queen sunmi once said, the show must go on.

your second wave of regret comes when you’re actually on stage, all the lights, the music, the screams and your in-ear monitor feeling less like the dream you’ve worked so hard to achieve and more like your own personal hell. your group having your own amazing entrance with one of the stage elevators excited you at first; unfortunately, right now you’re preoccupied with managing your expressions to make sure you won’t let any irritation or discomfort slip.

your third and final wave of regret comes when you stand in the middle of the stage in this massive venue, tens of thousands of eyes on you as you start to perform your solo part of the song — your head is pounding and you can barely hear your own voice through your in-ears anymore, your steps are shaky and imprecise, your vision is blurry. you manage to push through, somehow, but it’s clear in the way your chest is heaving once the lights go out that you’re not well.

the atmosphere is very much tense in the part of the audience where your fellow idols sit, all of them having to cover their very obvious concern with faux excitement — you pulled it off well enough, but it’s clear to every single one of them that you’re sick and that you probably should not have performed. ricky especially has to keep his expressions in check, because the mix of worry and concern but also frustration and maybe a little anger is raging heavily inside him right now.

the worry and concern are obvious, the last thing he wants to see is you being sick, much less performing in that state. the frustration is bubbling inside him because he knows that you know better, that even the chance of you hurting yourself even worse by performing while sick is enough reason to sit out one performance. the anger is entirely directed at your staff and maybe some of your members, your leader at least — they must’ve seen that you were unwell, no? and they still let you on stage? is that not what managers and leaders are for, to take matters into their own hands and to know what’s best for their members? it all comes to a head when your members join the other idols in the audience while you’re nowhere in sight.

ricky is getting restless, his hands sprawling against his dress pants, occasionally pinching the fabric to keep his mind occupied. gyuvin and matthew both gave him little reassuring pats on his back but neither did much to comfort him, his mind entirely preoccupied with worrying about you and counting down the minutes to when he will finally be able to check up on you backstage.

it’s about an hour later when the award show is finally over, and for once ricky is the first one to rush backstage, a little ahead of all of his members. he swerves past staff and security and doesn’t even bother knocking on your group’s dressing room, ripping the door open to find your shocked but still very exhausted eyes staring up at him in surprise, “ricky?”

he’s in front of you in the blink of an eye, squatting down to meet you eye-to-eye, his hands gently cradling your face, “are you okay? for real, this time?” his brows are furrowed and you feel a little bad for thinking that he looks pretty handsome all serious like this. you nod sheepishly, apology ready to spill from your lips when he squishes your cheeks together to silence you, “shhh, you listen to me. never do that again, okay? do you know how scary that was, watching you perform like that? what if something had happened, you know you could’ve—,” he stumbles over his words a little, clearly worked up, “i don’t know, fallen off stage or something. you could’ve fainted! or you could’ve broken something or— i don’t know, just, promise me, don’t do that again.” ricky’s once so stern voice turns soft towards the end again, never really able to keep up his serious tone for long, especially towards you.

“‘m sorry, just didn’t want to let anyone down,” you mumble, leaning into his touch. his cold hands on your face feel incredibly nice, a stark contrast to your feverish face. he sighs and one of his hands comes up to brush your hair away from your face, his hand stroking your head softly, “i know, but still. don’t do stuff like that, okay? talk to someone when you’re not feeling well. your managers, your members, me — there’s so many people you can go to, okay? anyone, as long as you tell someone,” you nod along to him, and maybe it’s the guilt of making him worry so much or the fact that you’re overwhelmed from the amount of affection coming from him while you’re still a little delirious, but you feel like you need to lighten the atmosphere with a little joke.

“even gyuvin?” the gentle expression on his face falls almost immediately, replaced by a very unimpressed stare. you break out into quiet giggles, muttering a “sorry” before pressing a kiss to his cheek. ricky grumbles a little before getting back up, running his hand through your hair gently one last time. “i have to go back now but i’m ordering you some soup to your dorm later. you’re on bedrest for the next few days, you hear me?” he tries to sound stern again and puts on his best serious face, but his façade is broken when you smile up at him so tiredly, the exhaustion clear on your face.

“thank you, i love you,” you call after him when he turns to leave, ricky sending you a flying kiss before leaving the room, “love you too.”

(your fourth wave of regret came when you realised ricky formed an alliance with your members, all of them exchanging “y/n intel” to make sure all of them can keep an eye on you while you’re recovering.)

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gimmeurtmi · 1 year

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of lipstick stains and zipper games — lee know

pairing: lee minho x fem!reader

tags: established relationship, dom/sub dynamic, smut!!!🔞

warnings: swearing, dom!minho, teasing in public, marking, biting, use of “good girl,” “brat,”, minho calls reader “bunny” agenda, oral (m. receiving), mean!dom, praising, sorta dom drop, mushy at the end bc i can’t write something filthy without that, strength kink if you squint

inspo: the zipper™️, as well as @lino-nyangi’s beautiful brain. we yelled at each other about this until we both cracked and now i’ve lost my mind. we each ran with this plot as far as we could go, so here’s joo’s version of minho and lipstick stains. 🫶🏻

notes: i feel like i should apologise, but he did this to us. stylist noona, i will give you anything you ask for.

{ wc: 4698 }

you agreed to meet at the party as your friends were all getting ready together and minho was going to be late anyway because of his schedule cutting a bit close to the start time.

so when minho did finally arrive, you let out an audible gasp when you saw his outfit. the way the black fabric wrapped around his biceps, the black necklace, the baggy pants and the big belt. your eyes scanned all of him—from the way his hair was pushed away from his face to the rings on his finger.

and then you saw the big silver zipper in the middle of his shirt, practically calling your name.

you stood up from the couch you were perched on and walked right up to your boyfriend, grabbing his hand wordlessly and taking him somewhere. anywhere.

a room. some room.

you slammed the door shut before pushing your boyfriend up against the wall—his eyes big and wide in front of you.

you weren’t sure who’s room you were in, but it didn’t matter to you, the sight of his outfit was enough to push your brain into tunnel vision mode. and minho was the only thing you could see.

“hello to you, too,” minho said. you weren’t listening to the smirk in his tone, and he could clearly see that, as he followed your eyes and their journey across his chest. “you like the outfit.”

“i like your chest,” you said, shamelessly, running a finger across the exposed skin.

minho chuckled, bringing his arm around your back and pulling you closer. the sudden movement, and your lack of focus, caused you to stumble forward—instinctively steadying yourself with a hand on his chest.

you looked up, minho’s eyes right in front of yours. he had the upper hand, like he always did, and his eyes were sparkling down at you. proudly.

but underneath your palm you could feel a loud and steady beat telling you otherwise. a small secret only you know, one that minho trusts you with.

you smile up at him for a second before looking at your hand—your secret holder—and rubbing your thumb across his chest lightly. then you move your hand as you feel around his muscles, admiring the work he does on his body.

“wanna kiss…” you mumble, so softly you don’t even realise you spoke your thoughts out loud.

a finger wraps around your chin, tilting your head upwards and snapping you out of your daze. only to be met with minho’s eyes, glazed over and pupils wide, casting another spell on you.

minho leans forward, trying to capture your lips, but you pull back.

his eyebrows lift upwards as he whines.

“my lipstick,” you explain.

“you just said you wanted a kiss,” he argues.

“oh,” you feel a blush creeping up your neck at the knowledge he heard you, “t-that’s not what i meant.”

minho cocks his head to the side curiously.

“i wanted to kiss you,” you explain. he doesn’t seem to understand, but leans forward to accept this kiss. you push him back.

“i meant your chest,” you confess slowly.

minho laughs, eyes disappearing for a moment before he looks at you—smile wide on his face.

“so you really like the outfit,” he confirms. “i should keep it.”

“who gave it to you?” you ask, finger trailing up and down against the zip line.

“hyunjin,”

“i should go thank hyunjin then,” you nod, giving minho a small smile before walking away.

you’ve barely turned away from him before the grip on your back tightens and he’s once again pulling you closer, flush against his body.

“aren’t you going to thank me first?”

“thank you for what?”

“just for looking so good,” he smirks.

“i don’t remember saying you look good,” you narrow your eyes at him.

he laughs. “you didn’t need to say anything, bunny. you’re drooling.”

“i am not drooling,” you protest.

minho cocks his eyebrows up in a silent challenge, finger wrapping around the zipper. he’s just holding it, and you know what he’s trying to do, so you will your eyes to lock with his. don’t look down.

you hear the zipper slowly moving down and then his finger is trailing against your cheek and you can’t help it. you need to see more of him.

you let your hands see first, trailing them up his stomach until they slip into the shirt and onto his warm skin, muscles hard and sculpted underneath your touch. you trail your hands to his sides, where his waist dips and his chest swells and that’s when you lose all semblance of self control.

you lean down and press a kiss onto his chest, at the small dip his pec makes. you kiss his skin again and again, pulling away slightly to be greeted by the sight on his chest. a deep red kiss, almost perfectly shaped, sitting oh so proudly against his smooth skin.

the excitement swirling in your stomach soon turns into guilt, for ruining the perfect surface of his chest, and so you bring your finger up to clean the stain off.

minho grabs onto your wrist so tight it almost hurts, pulling your hand away from him.

“don’t touch it,” he says, firmly. you quip your brows up at him.

a moment passes in silence, minho’s chest rising up and down quickly.

you break away from his stare, so intense it heats up your cheeks, and look back at the stain you left.

you decide the kiss looks lonely, and lean down to add another kiss right below his nipple.

you can hear minho exhale weakly.

this kiss left the perfect stain—and you smile softly to yourself. minho clears his throat to say something, but you won’t be listening. instead you ghost your lips higher, to the middle of his left pec and suck on the skin.

minho almost squeaks in response.

you bite his skin in between your teeth before releasing it, gleaming at the red splotch. some of it is your lipstick, some of it is the bruise slowly growing darker.

for good measure, for pure symmetry, you do the same next to the other kiss—your tongue flicking against his nipple before you suck on the skin right below it.

minho is ticklish on his sides, and so sensitive, so he makes a sound between a sigh and a giggle and a moan, causing you to laugh against him.

he jolts.

but he doesn’t say anything—no teasing remark, no smug retort, he just lets you decorate his skin.

you aren’t satisfied yet, and with your hands steadying you against him—planted low on his hips—you wrap your lips around the zipper. catching it in between your teeth, you slowly push it downwards, nudging the fabric away with your nose before attaching your lips to his stomach.

you keep going, minho making no move to stop you. in fact, he’s all but frozen against you, the only sign of life are the small sighs and whines coming from above you.

you sink down onto your knees, hands sliding down to stable yourself against his thighs.

you pepper soft kisses above his belt, so soft they don’t leave any mark, before you bite onto the skin just above his hip bone. his skin is taut, especially around his pelvic bone—so you don’t have much to tug on before minho whimpers at the sudden pain. you lick over the small marks your teeth left, kissing him soothingly, leaving another kiss behind.

bzzzzz.

a loud vibration against your hands causes you to jump, instantly breaking the trance you were under. you move to get up, but minho places a hand on your shoulder keeping you in place.

he takes his phone out of his pocket, answering the call. all he says is sure. then the phone is back in his pocket and he’s looking down at you.

his fingers sink into your hair.

“wanna explain yourself, bunny?”

“i, well, the outfit is just—“

“—shhh,” he cuts you off, fingers cupping your chin. he rubs his thumb against you, his actions soothing. his eyes screaming condescending. so does his voice when he says, “no thoughts left in your little brain?”

“i’m sorry, min,” you blush. you’re not sure if it’s his tone or finally stepping away enough to see his body. you left more than a dozen marks on him, lipstick and hickeys combined. “i’m really sorry.”

minho pulls you up onto your feet, tucking a few hairs behind your ear.

his eyes lock onto your lips, his thumb rubbing against your chin again. he rests it on your bottom lip before pulling it down.

“you brought your lipstick with you, right?” you nod.

minho grabs your shoulders and moves you around the room until you’re facing a small mirror sat on a desk.

you gasp.

your lipstick is smudged completely, covering your chin and your upper lip—your cupid’s bow disappearing behind the colour. you wince.

“i need to go help chan drag in some kegs,” he says simply, zipping his shirt back up. the metal has a small red stain on it. “i’ll find you after.”

“minho,” you chuckle, shaking your head, “you can’t go like that. i need to wipe off the lipstick.”

he laughs. “you’re not touching them.”

“but—“

“—you gave me these kisses so i’m keeping them. you can’t just take them back.”

he says it so seriously all you can do is just nod. he turns to leave, shirt closed and outfit presentable again. he adjusts his black necklace as he runs his fingers through his hair, tidying it up.

there’s only one evidence to what you’ve done, and that’s the pink tint on his chest.

before he grabs the handle and leaves you call out his name.

“i’m sorry,” you apologise again.

minho smirks at you, chuckling lightly. “it’s okay, baby. you can’t help how weak your boyfriend makes you.”

and then he leaves.

you find some wet wipes in the room you’re in, and soon enough the mess you made on your face is taken care of—a fresh coat of red lipstick adoring your lips.

you make your way back to the living room, where the party is actually taking place, and find your friends again.

they don’t say much about your absence, instead asking you to judge their game of twister.

from the corner of your eye you can see minho and chan, each carrying in a beer keg. minho’s arms flex at the weight of it, but he doesn’t seem like he’s putting too much effort into carrying it.

that zipper dangles as he moves, taunting you, sliding down ever so slightly. you catch a glimpse of red on his skin, peaking out from underneath the black fabric.

minho can feel you staring from across the room, and once he sets the keg down in the kitchen he looks over at you—winking as his lip curls up into a smile.

you force yourself to focus back on the game instead.

once you’ve given up on twister, you make your way over to the giant jenga tower where a few of your friends are starting a new game.

you feel a strong hand snaking around your waist, minho’s familiar perfume wrapping around you.

“when do you wanna go home?” he whispers in your ear.

“min, i haven’t even said happy birthday to yuna yet,” you scold him.

“okay,” he kisses your cheek lightly, “just let me know as soon as you wanna go.”

“do you have a schedule tomorrow?” you turn to look at him. you were sure he had the day off tomorrow, you specifically remembered asking him about it.

“i have a schedule tonight,” he whispers. you knit your eyebrows, “after this i’m booked in to fuck you until you can’t talk.”

“min!” you whisper-yell at him. he laughs.

“what, you think you can pull that shit earlier and nothing will happen?”

“i got carried away,” you admit, “i said i was sorry.”

“oh, you will be sorry.”

minho kisses your forehead before causally asking if you want something to drink. you say no, mostly so he doesn’t stand too close to you, and then get back to your game.

you find yuna later, hugging her and wishing her a happy birthday. she drags you over to your boyfriend—because he’s sitting next to felix and you know yuna likes felix, and you’re happy to help her.

so you both sit down, sliding minho away from felix so yuna can sit next to him.

minho puts his arm around you.

“can we go home now?” he whispers.

“no,” you chuckle at him.

“happy birthday, yuna!” he practically yells. she smiles at him before looking back at felix. “what about now?”

“why do you wanna leave so bad?”

“why do you think?”

you shake your head, trying your best to dismiss the intense stare he’s giving you. it’s then you notice he’s playing with the zipper again—as if trying to bait you. you promise yourself you’re not that easy to manipulate.

minho pulls the zipper down, exposing more of his chest, exposing another kiss you left behind, before he stretches against the couch.

he doesn’t say anything before he gets up and walks away.

you follow him instantly, following him all the way into an empty part of the kitchen. it’s only then you realise you fell for his bait; hook, line, and sinker.

it’s confirmed when minho smirks at you.

he raises his eyebrows in question.

“you shouldn’t show off,” you try scolding. you grab the zipper and pull it back up. minho pulls it down right after.

“you can’t just walk around with hickies all over your chest,” you roll your eyes at him.

“i can, and i will,” he smiles innocently, “what kind of boyfriend would i be if i didn’t show off my girl’s art?”

your eyes instinctively flick down to his exposed chest. it really was a masterpiece. it was a masterpiece before you even touched him, but with the red and purple marks all over him—he looked perfect. like something fit for a museum.

but a small voice inside your head decided you should be the only one to look at him, it should be your burden and no one elses. that thought lit a fire inside you, one you tried so hard to control. you took in a deep breath.

you knew you couldn’t look at him any longer without adding another one, so you reach for it and close the zipper.

minho pulls it back down.

“min!”

“you want it closed that bad?” he licks his lips.

“yes.”

“then do it yourself,” he shrugs.

you roll your eyes, knowing he’ll just open it again, but reach for the silver zipper anyway. he catches your wrist in his hand quickly.

you scoff, trying with your other hand, before both are captured in his hold.

“close it the way you opened it, bunny,” he whispers, nudging his nose against yours, “don’t waste your pretty little mouth like that.”

you know what he’s doing, but you also just can’t ignore him when he tells you to do something, not in that soft voice of his.

so you lean down, catching the zipper in between your teeth. the grip on your wrists is much looser now, you could pull your hands away if you wanted to. but you don’t want to—not even a little bit.

you pull the metal between your teeth, pulling the shirt together until just a small sliver of his skin is seen, a beautifully light pink.

standing up straight after you finally hid his beautiful chest away, you look right into his eyes. he’s breathing heavily, moving closer to you so his nose is right against yours.

“mark me again,”

“min, i—“

“please.”

you grab onto the end of his shirt to pull it down and expose his collarbone a bit more, planting soft kisses along it before you start sucking on the skin. his hands wrap around your body as his eyes flutter softly. it’s not that the act itself turns him on as such, your lips are definitely his favourite, but it’s the knowing it’ll leave a mark. knowing your lipstick is staining his skin. knowing how wrecked you’ll look with lipstick on your chin when you come back up to face him.

when you do pull away, finger running over the red marks on his skin proudly, he looks you straight in the eyes and says, “can we ditch this fucking party now?”

his knuckles are white at this point—the only thing holding him back from jumping you is his sheer willpower, and knowing you’re in public and he can’t possibly have you the way he wants you in this kind of setting.

“min, don’t be rude. it’s a birthday party,” you smirk at him. there’s nothing better than watching his self control slowly slip away from him, and that look on his face gets so much more desperate when you run your finger over his stained skin one more time.

“i’ll find an empty room,” he negotiates.

“don’t be ridiculous. just calm down, yeah?” you kiss the corner of his lips softly before walking away— deciding it’s time to socialise.

when minho catches his reflection a few moments later he almost loses his mind when he notices the bright red stain on the corner of his lips.

he really thought he was going to win.

but it’s fine, he rationalises, he knows exactly how to get you.

minho walks into the garden, following the loud bass surrounding the pool.

he isn’t too sure who decided edm remixes of every taylor swift song is the right vibe for a party but he doesn’t care. it’s enough to set his plan in action.

you spot him from across the garden, your kiss still proudly by his lips. you were sure he was going to wipe it away—but then you realised how foolish that was of you. he even let the fucking zipper fall down again, exposing the now purple hickey on his chest.

you felt your ears burning up. the heat travelled all down your body, settling in between your legs when you saw minho swaying his hips to the loud beat.

his thighs flexing, grabbing your attention by the belt wrapped around his right thigh. he rolled his body as he mouthed along to the words of the song.

you know what he’s doing, you can tell when he sends a wink your way. he’s insufferable.

you walk all the way up to him, a few people around you chuckling when they see the colour on your lips matches the colour on his skin. you ignore that.

“we’re going home,” you grab his forearm. minho keeps dancing, rolling his hips closer to you.

“what do you mean?” he blinks at you.

you groan. “you wanted to go home, let’s go.”

“i think i wanna stay now,” he shrugs.

“we’re leaving,” you insist.

“but i’m having so much fun,” he beams, spinning around.

“you’re having too much fun,” you shake your head, “i can’t take you anywhere.”

he snakes his hands around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “dance with me?”

“absolutely not,” you laugh. there’s only one way dancing with minho ends—and it is not suitable for a public space. “i’m getting an uber.”

you would feel bad for the uber driver if you were able to think about anything other than minho. you didn’t realise how much his dancing bothered you until he closed the car door—and you grabbed his face, kissing him hard.

minho pushed you back by your shoulder, eyes wide. “don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffs, “just calm down.”

you roll your eyes at him for repeating your own words back to you.

it’s clear he doesn’t want to kiss you when the driver can see everything that’s happening behind him. but you’re pretty sure he can’t see what’s happening on the seats.

you place your hand on minho’s thigh.

“careful,” he warns. you elect to ignore that.

you slide your hand higher, and higher, your finger inching closer and closer to his crotch.

he leans right next to you, lips by your ear as he whispers, “listen, bunny. you’re on thin fucking ice right now.”

you press your palm into his crotch, feeling how hard he is already. you squeeze your thighs.

“i don’t think so,” you somehow gather the courage to say.

“has being a brat ever turned out well for you?” he challenges.

“i think you were being a brat tonight,” minho lets out a noise that sounds like a question mark, “showing off like that.”

“you started this shit,” he reminds you. you start palming him, moving your hand up and down.

“so i’m finishing it.” you lean closer to him, pressing a wet kiss onto his neck.

minho promises himself he’s not going to give you the satisfaction of any kind of reaction, even if you are touching his dick and kissing his neck.

that is, until you find that one spot right below his ear and tug on it with your teeth.

embarrassingly, minho can’t help the small moan that escapes him. the car starts moving much faster all of a sudden.

it isn’t three more minutes before you arrive, minho quickly paying the driver (and apologising) before dragging you into the house.

as soon as you enter the bedroom, minho starts laughing.

shit.

“what the fuck was that?”

you don’t answer him, instead locking your hands behind his neck and attaching your lips together.

he kisses you back, finally, tongue moving against yours desperately.

you kiss until your lungs start aching, pulling away as you both catch your breaths. minho’s eyes are glossy and big and desperate and you lean forward to catch his lips again. he stops you this time.

“min—“

“—no,” he says simple, shaking his head once. “you don’t get to ask for anything. you got everything you wanted tonight and look how fucking spoiled it made you.”

“min, please,” you whined.

“and you can’t even wait your turn to speak, either,” he tsks.

you open your mouth to say something, but quickly close it. minho smiles.

“tell me what brought this bratty bullshit out of you, baby,” he asks, although you know he knows the answer. you indulge him anyway, knowing it’s the only way you’ll get what you want. if minho gets what he wants.

“your outfit, min,”

“did a stupid shirt really make you forget how to act?” minho chuckled cockily.

you nod.

“do i need to remind you how a good girl behaves?”

you nod.

“on your knees,” you fall to your knees, looking up at him expectedly.

minho cups your cheek softly, rubbing his thumb against your skin. he traces your lips.

“i wanna see your lipstick on my dick,” he says slowly, “want it to get all over your chin again.”

you open your mouth dutifully, sticking your tongue out for him. he chuckles at you, smiling proudly.

he unbuckles his belt, letting the baggy pants pool around his feet. you move closer to him.

“should i keep the shirt on?” you nod. “speak.”

“it looks good on you,” you state the obvious. then an idea pops into your head, once you realise where minho placed you. “if you take it off you’ll be able to see my art.”

minho looks up, catching his reflection in the full length mirror. he beckons you up with two fingers, and you don’t even need him to tell you what he wants.

your pull the zipper down with your teeth, all the way, and push the fabric off his shoulder. then you sit back on your knees.

“baby,” he coos down at you, filling your chest with warmth, “you’re so so good for me.”

you nod, unable to stop your smile.

“you see,” he says, voice soft and sweet, “you like it so much. you like being my good girl?”

“yes, min,” you nod.

“you’re gonna be good for me and let me fuck your face?” you nod eagerly.

you wrap your hands around his thighs again, feeling the way they flex against your palm, and open your mouth wide.

you breath in slowly, looking up at minho as he carefully slides his dick into your mouth. he gives you a few seconds, seeing the slight nervousness in your eyes, and once you close them and start sucking on his length—he makes good on his promise, thrusting in and out of your mouth.

he builds his pace up slowly, gradually sinking deeper and deeper until the tip nudges against your throat. he fists at your hair, scrunching it into a very messy ponytail, enough to be used as leverage as he fucks deeper and deeper into your mouth.

the noises you’re making are obscene, spit leaking out of the corner of your mouth, but you don’t care. the noises minho is making are much louder—moans and groans and praises of your name.

you swallow around him when you feel the spit running down your chin, and that’s when minho’s thighs start tensing.

“fuck fuck fuck,” he pulls your face away by your hair but you lunge forward, sucking on the tip as you feel the warmth shooting into your mouth.

minho lets out a long low groan.

you swallow it down, embracing the salty taste, and stick your tongue back out.

“holy shit,” he whines.

minho lets go of your hair, slowly backing away to the bed before he collapses on it. he falls to his back, and you slowly crawl on your knees to him, kissing his thigh softly as you watch his chest moving up and down quickly—the marks on him standing out perfectly.

“i wasn’t going to cum in your mouth but i’ll let that slide because it was so fucking hot,” he says. you nod in agreement.

he brings his arm over his head, still catching his breath. you quietly let him, remembering your rule to not speak unless he asked you too. you lean your head against the bed patiently.

“bunny?” you nod. “bunny, talk to me. i need your voice.”

you jump up from the floor, quickly sitting down next to him on the bed.

“hey, min,” you say, voice hoarse, but you cough quickly and speak on. “how are you?”

he only nods back, breathing in deeply. you run a hand over his chest, down his stomach, tracing the marks you left on him. “can i put one on your thigh, too?”

minho chuckles, looking up at you finally.

“yeah, of course you can.”

you nod happily before leaning over to kiss his thigh.

“bunny?”

“yeah?”

“was i.. too harsh?”

you lift your head up, looking at him with nothing but fondness in your eyes.

“no,” you promise him, “i loved it. and besides,” you lean down and peck his lips softly, giggling as he chases you for another one, “you said you’d fuck me until i can’t talk so i’m still waiting.”

“give me a sec,” he laughs.

you nod, before quickly remembering to say, “okay. i’ll just kiss your thighs until you’re ready.”

“okay,” minho nods, running his hand across your back softly. “stay close to me though, please. if you want.”

you nod at him, understanding silently what it is he needs. you lay down on your side, still right beside him as you lean towards his thighs—ready to mark up another part of his perfectly sculpted body.

“i want to, i always want to be close to you,” you verbalise, seeing the small sigh of relief leaving his body. the tension in his body fades slightly, and you know kissing him will help even more.

you ghost your lips over his thighs, sucking on one particular spot until it turns red. minho’s fingers are in your hair, keeping you close.

out of nowhere he says, “i’m keeping the shirt.”

“that’s a good idea,” you agree.

“i’m keeping you, too,” he adds, quietly.

you laugh loudly at that, grabbing the hand in your hair and kissing his palm. “that’s a good idea, too.”

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snalsupremacy · 7 months

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Why this is my favorite panel in hgsn

Hgsn has some incredible art and page composition, but out of the entire manga so far, to me this is the best panel of them all. Hell, this might be my favorite panel of any manga ever. (Note: Due to respecting the scanlator's wishes, I blanked out the dialogue and replaced all necessary dialogue with the official English source)

1- Build-up

Before I get to the panel itself, lets first talk about the pages before: For context, this is in chapter 2. Yoshiki has just found out about "Hikaru", and its trying to adjust to this new reality. As they walk from school to Yoshiki's house, Yoshiki asks him if he killed Hikaru. This is how the previous two pages look like:

Notice how the half shading effect is done in hatch marks. This is the first sign the all-black shading is a stylistic choice used to convey something.

Look at the balance the two pages form when you put them together: half white, half black, half black, half white. They compliment each other, both in color balance and in panel shape.

We have to turn the page to hear Hikaru's answer to Yoshiki's question. This gives the control of the narrative back to the viewer. This creates tension and build-up to it, it is a common tactic famously employed by Junji Ito in his famous "page-turner" moments where the viewer has to turn the page to see the monster. Except in this instance we are not revealing monsters, or are we?

2- The page

I'm not gonna get into too much detail on the page itself, I just want to point out the juxtaposition between the page composition of this page and the previous two. The last two were balanced and had all the panels closed while this one is much more liberal, bringing a feeling of unbalance, like something just shifted. I'd say the black and white balance is still there, with the Hikaru on white and Yoshiki on black panel side by side and all, which actually brings me to my next point:

3- Black and White

Honestly this could be an entire analysis post of itself, where do I even start?! Let's go from the very beginning. This is the very first time we learn of "Hikaru" :

Notice how the panel is colored black. In fact, throughout the story, we see black panels being spoken by "Hikaru", usually right before he does something unnatural:

And here are the only two instances we see of the Brain-snatcher's true form:

• He's literally a black blob, just like the text bubbles! And now combine that with Hikaru's white hair, and the fact his name means to be bright, and what's the brightest color but white, and there is a clear color symbolism going on:

Hikaru=White

"Hikaru"=Black

4-The Panel

And now we're back to the original panel! Taking all the other points in mind, we can analyze the panel itself

First, his expression. My G-d, his expression! His raised eyebrows and his squinted eyes, making his pupils way larger, make the expression seem almost childish and pitiful. But the half black-out face turns this pity look to an ominous one. Not being able to see the face or having your face obstructed is easy path into the uncanny valley, which I think is the case for this scene. Immediately 180 from "aww the poor guy" to "what is he hiding?"

The white panel says "I like you" while the black panel says "I'm crazy for you". HOWEVER, The white bubble is by the black side of his face and the black bubble is by the white side of his face. So which Hikaru is saying that? Is "Hikaru" crazy for Yoshiki, while Hikaru just liked him, or the other way around? Did the original Hikaru ever love Yoshiki, or is that the monster's feelings? Well we don't know! That's the premise of the whole manga! In one panel!

And that's why it's my favorite :)

#hikaru ga shinda natsu #the summer hikaru died #hgsn #tshd #yoshiki tsujinaka #hikaru indou #snal posting #the manga of all time tbh

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zablife · 5 months

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The Shirt

Author's Note: Still obsessing over Cillian's wardrobe. Can you blame me? 🤭 This fic is 🔞

You ushered in the delivery with a small wave of your hand. You were preoccupied by your phone call and barely paying attention as Cillian's stylist dropped off a few outfits for his upcoming press tour. "Thank you," you mouthed before returning to your call.

As soon as you were finished with your own work for the day, you slipped downstairs to unzip the garment bags, eager to learn what he would be wearing. Cillian's stylist always chose the most flattering garments. Her recent decision to outfit him with a gold chain was a particularly inspired moment. You had approved of it instantly.

You threw open the bag with a flourish, gasping at the sight of a sheer, black shirt and a dark suit. “Holy shit,” you mumbled, unable to stop yourself from dragging your fingertips across the delicate fabric. As you did, a wicked idea came to you.

—————————————————————

“Y/n” Cillian called as he entered the house. “Baby where are you?” he pondered, finding the downstairs empty.

“Up here,” you called, biting your lip with anticipation. Your heart beat wildly in your chest as you listened to his heavy footsteps on the stairs. In a moment he would open the bedroom door and find you like this. Your brain buzzed with excitement at the thought of it.

Cillian's hand wrapped around the door as he pushed it open and his face said everything he couldn't. His jaw dropped as he caught sight of you in a black thong and sheer black shirt, breasts bare to him through the thin material. A lamp lent a soft glow to your curves and he swiped his tongue across his bottom lip slowly and hungrily.

Your hands skimmed your body suggestively as you asked, "Do you like it?" You teased him, pinching your nipples and feeling them harden to stiff peaks beneath the black veil of the shirt. His eye drifted as you did so, feeling his trousers grow tight at the sight of your breasts straining against the fabric.

Without answering he strode toward you and brought your body close to him, feeling the softness of your tits pushed against him. Capturing your lips in a messy, open mouthed kiss, he hummed in obvious satisfaction. Hands traveling from the back of your head and south to your ass, he squeezed the flesh in his palms as a primal grunt escaped his throat.

You giggled against his lips at the reaction you'd been hoping for. "So you do like it," you whispered into his ear.

Picking you up and tossing you onto the bed, he climbed over you. Hovering above you with lust blown pupils he asked, "Want me to show you?"

You nodded as he carefully unbuttoned your shirt, kissing along your sternum as he went and pulling an erect nipple into his mouth to suck it harshly. You gasped at the sensation, a sharp cry escaping your lips as he bit down suddenly.

“Show me,” you urged, reaching for his zipper and freeing his thick cock from the confines of his trousers. Stroking him with one hand, the opposite hand caressed his face. Rubbing a thumb over his sensitive tip, you heard him hiss at the contact and smiled up at him with glee.

It only took a moment for him to rip your underwear away and sink his hard length into you. You sighed with the contented feeling of being filled and he brushed his nose against yours gently. It belied the powerful thrust that came next and your back arched off the bed in surprise. You cried out with pleasure as he pistoned into you, too overcome with lust to control himself.

"Yes, there," you cried out as he changed angle, thrusting against your g-spot. Your hips pushed up to meet his, the squelching sound of your wetness giving you away. You would cum soon like this.

“M close,” he huffed, warm breath ghosting over the side of your neck.

“M-me too,” you stuttered, feeling the coil in your lower belly snap. Your warm walls clamped around him in a vice like grip as you reached your high. A shiver of pleasure ripped through you as the aftershocks continued and Cillian filled you with his sticky warmth.

Rolling off you to catch his breath, he ran a hand through his sweat dampened hair. “Is that a new shirt?” he panted. “Fucking love it,” he mumbled as he leaned over to kiss you.

A girlish laugh bubbled up from your chest as you shyly admitted, “It’s your new shirt, love. Your stylist dropped it off today.” You looked away guiltily as he considered your reply. Then a hearty chuckle erupted, breaking the silence in the room as he asked, “And who on earth wants to see me in that?”

“I want to see it!” you exclaimed, barely containing your excitement. You reached over to pull the garment from your side, eyebrow arching at him mischievously. “Try it on!” you implored, tossing it at him. A wicked grin tugged at your lips as you added, “And I’ll show my appreciation.”

He didn’t hesitate, taking the shirt from you and rushing toward the en suite. It would have to be dry cleaned before his premiere, but you smirked to yourself as you imagined all the fangirls who would obsess over it on the red carpet, wishing they could have him in their beds. You kicked your feet gleefully as you thought of the fact that you were the only woman who would see it up close…and on the bedroom floor.

#cillian murphy smut

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keylimeyunho · 1 year

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hard to ignore: part 1

part 1: “your dream”

pairing: reader x fuckboyidol!san genre: smut, fluff word count: 4.1k warning(s): none for this chapter

“the concert starts promptly at 7:30. make sure they’re ready by 5.”

he threw the keys in your lap, placed a folded paper on the table of your new trailer, and held out his hand. you immediately shook it.

“welcome to the team.”

you beamed proudly and nodded your head aggressively. yes, of course, they would be ready by 5, maybe even 4:30 if you got a head start. but the man proceeded to just stand in your trailer and stare you down.

“with this being your first time working with the boys,” he cleared his throat “i’m going to give a little word of advice before you head to their dressing room.”

he walked over to the couch across from where you sat at your trailer’s kitchen table, and relaxed his arm over its cusion. he stared you down once again, looking into your pupils as if he was scanning for information about you that he didn’t already know, or couldn’t find in your resume.

“there’s eight of them… and some of them are…different. don’t let them get to you.”

you tilted your head and laughed, but only a little. of course, they would each be different; they’re human, after all. why would you need to be warned about something so trivial? “what do you mean by 'different'?”

he kept a thin lipped smile and just exhaled out his nose, silently, keeping the eye contact. “you’ll soon find out.” the man then stood up, straightened his jacket, and headed towards the trailer door. “just…be cautious. we want this tour to go smoothly, okay? no mishaps.”

“now what does that mean?” you wanted to say but you kept that thought to yourself and just held a thin-lipped smile in return, holding a strong thumbs up to let him know yes, of course. because **you weren’t about to risk losing the only job you ever wanted on day one.t

you raised an eyebrow and kept eye contact with him. “no mishaps. i swear it."

—

after dumping out your enormous stash of makeup out of your suitcase, you realized you may have overpacked. every size brush dispersed over at least ten shades of concealer and a mountain of eye shadow palettes looked up at you. but you also knew it was best to not make the rookie mistake of giving these boys the wrong products, let alone the wrong shades.

after almost three years of cosmotology school, thousands of dollars in scholarships, and a handful of temporary salon jobs, you had finally landed your first big gig. and you weren’t going to be just any stylist. you were going to be working for one of the biggest names in music, in k-pop.

kq entertainment was one of the last companies you expected to even glance at your application, let alone accept it, but they were pleasantly surprised with your extensive resume of internships and recommendations from clients at your old job. and besides, they had just lost a series of stylists so they were desperate for someone to work immediately and last-minute. and with you eager to leave a job that could not pay your rent or even just your coffee every week, that made you the perfect candidate.

especially since you graduated top of your class and spent the entirety of your undergrad working as a nail tech and shampooer right after tech school, you had more experience and drive than anyone in the running because most people just worked to pass so they could get a mediocre job at their local hair salon, getting paid maybe 30k a year (if they’re lucky) to dye greying old ladies’ hairlines various shades of brown.

but this..this was your dream. creating something original and getting to express your love of fashion, hair, and makeup to put on a show. and doing that for a group as big as ateez was absolutely surreal.

you didn’t know much about them, besides the fact they were outselling arenas all over the nation. you never paid much attention to guys, anyway, even the ones who sat next to you in class and tried to write notes to you in the margins of your paper. but you were usually too consumed in what was on the board than what the guy next to you was doing. like you said, this was your dream. not the lackluster boys who were definitely failing out of their classes. and besides, those boys were never that memorable in looks, anyway.

closing the door to your trailer, you hit the dirt with your platforms and headed towards the boys dressing room. you decided to put on your most original look you could think of that was not too over the top for complete strangers. you strapped on some ankle boots paired with a lavender maxi skirt that matched the purple satin bustier you donned under a cropped leather jacket. you made sure to showcase your personality patches of your favorite bands that you sewed onto your messenger bag.

unfolding the paper the director had given you, you looked carefully down at the order of of which member you would style first:

y/n,

the boys are trailer 1024. the order for the makeup cycle will be

wooyoung, jongho, mingi, seonghwa, yeosang, hongjoong, san, yunho

today we only need you to prepare their makeup for the show. it’s their first night in seoul since the pandemic so tonight, they need to make an impact. play off their show outfits and give us something fresh.

- kq creative team

the list was new for you and the first time you heard any of the members’ names. despite the fact you had already met with the kq staff running this concert, you still had yet to meet any of the actual members. you shouldn’t be that surprised, considering they’re famous celebrities who definitely don’t have time to meet and greet all their staff. but since you were about to spend the next few months alongside them at every tour stop, your first official meeting with them being the tour’s kick-off was a bit nerve-wracking but nevertheless exciting.

walking through the rows of trailers full of kq staff, you finally located trailer 1024 about a couple doors down from yours. you saw a door with the word ARTIST in huge red letters printed on a paper taped on the door.

this will make it so much easier to get them ready everyday, you thought. not that far a walk.

you straightened your jacket and smiled at your reflection in the trailer window before knocking.

no mishaps.

the trailer door opened almost immediately, as if the person inside was waiting for you to rap on their door. A red-haired guy with bright brown eyes and a sharp jawline stood at the door. he was in a white tanktop, but below his waist were dress pants and dance shoes. he looked like he was halfway dressed to perform on stage and he looked a little too pretty to be their manager.

you held your smile tightly, waiting for him to say the first words.

“ah, are you y/n?” he said, leaning his elbow above his head on the edge of the door, flashing an unsurprisingly perfect smile

you nodded and bowed quickly, handing him the paper the director had given you. “at your service!”

keeping his elbow on the door, he took the paper out of your hands and scanned over it quickly. “nice to finally meet you, y/n.” he moved out of the way and reached out his hand to you. “i’m wooyoung. come in.”

you thanked him and he closed the door behind you as you took your first steps inside. it was double the size of your trailer but since they were the artists and you just came on tour for their makeup, it made sense they would have more leg room after each show.

you were expecting to see eight boys sitting on the couch waiting patiently for their makeup stylist; however, wooyoung seemed to be the only around.

“here- catch!” he catches you off guard and as you turn around, a drink can flies towards your head.

you were so entranced by the sheer size of their place that you didn’t see wooyoung go into their fridge and take out two redbulls. you catch the redbull with one hand, surprising yourself. he smirks a little before cracking open his own can. “nice. quick reflexes. you’re gonna need those if you want to work with us.”

what does that even mean? “everyone has been saying things like that about you guys. what exactly am i preparing for?” you crack the can open, as well, and take a gulp.

wooyoung plops on the couch and downs the can in under a few seconds. he sighs and runs his fingers through his red hair. “it means you’re our third stylist this month.” he tosses the now empty can like a basketball across the room and of course it lands with a perfect swish into the trash can next to the door. “and i don’t want to move onto a fourth.”

you sip carefully on the redbull can. between the director and now wooyoung’s words, you start to wonder if working with ateez was not what you had expected it to be. maybe these boys are going to be more work than just opening up a few eye shadow palettes and blowing drying their hair.

but wooyoung smiles at you softly before you let that thought fully form. “but don’t worry about it too much. with your experience, i’m sure we’ll be light work compared to the clients you’ve had before.”

that was true. working with screaming nine-year-olds and their 35-year old mothers was definitely the lowest you could have reached. you took wooyoung’s words with a grain of salt and stuck them in your back pocket.

“thanks.” you respond “but i do have one question…” you down the rest of the can and mimic wooyoung, tossing it behind you. “where are the rest of the members?”

wooyoung laughs. “we rotate, usually. the rest of them are getting changed or getting their hair done first. meanwhile, i’m scheduled for makeup first.” he gets up and starts heading down to one of the other doors in the trailer. “we each have about 20 minutes per rotation, so once you finish with me, the next one of us will coming knocking on the door.”

you looked at the clock on the wall in the trailer kitchen. five minutes had already past, giving you only 15 minutes left with wooyoung.

as if he could read your mind, wooyoung opens one of the doors. “welcome to the official ateez dressing room. come on in”

—

contrary to what everyone was saying, these boys were actually quite pleasant. for being famous celebrities who had fans cheering for them every night, you expected artists like them would walk around like they were above your pay grade (which they were) and deserved your utmost respect. but to your surprise, they were just- normal. some of them even shy.

for being the 6’2 rapper, mingi had trouble keeping eye contact with you while you looked at his face before starting, trying to get the lay of the land (or his visage). his fire red and orange hair intimidated you but as soon as you stopped looking he burst out . “i-i just want to say, i love your hairstyle.”

you touched your hair and looked away for a second. did he just compliment me? my hair?

“wow, um..thank you.” you blushed. “i think your hair is pretty nice, too..if not even better than mine.”

and even seonghwa, the greek god of a man with some of the most perfect features you’d ever admired kept giggling at every joke you made, some that weren’t even your best. you tried not to mess up his perfectly tousled blonde hair when powdering his face and drawing on his eyeliner carefully, but he flinched at your every touch.

“i-i’m sorry. i’m just scared i’ll mess you up." seonghwa says, looking away and scratching his arm nervously. "we haven’t had eyeliner in years, i'm happy you're bringing it back”

“really?” you lifted an eyebrow. out of all the concept photos you studied before today, you remember looking that the “say my name” era with smokey eyeliner was your favorite look. “well, good thing i’m here. i think it's time for a change."

seonghwa looked down and smiled slightly. “yeah..good thing.”

now, when jongho waltzed in, he had the most adorable smile you'd ever seen on an idol. stubby teeth and gums showing ever so slightly that made your eyes soften proved he was obviously the maknae. but you would never know because his vocals did not match that face.

he had begun practicing one of their sets. it made your heart flutter. you never heard such a powerful and angelic voice. (and you get to do his makeup?)

“you have such a beautiful voice” you said to him as you brushed the contour over the crest of his forehead. he flashed his gummy smile again and looked down shyly. “but, i will be honest, though," you admitted with a twinge of shame. "i really haven't heard much of your music."

jongho raised an eyebrow but quickly retracted it, at as to not mess up the contour. he didn't respond, but simply grabbed his phone out of his pocket, opening spotify.

the beginning note of a song began to play. he finally replies, “well, you should change that then.” the beginning note of their song "answer" begins to echo through the cool air of the dressing room. the music bounces around the room while you listen to his studio version which sounds just like the vocals you heard minutes prior.

now yeosang was the member who brought out your first real laugh of the day. walking into the room, he waved to you excitedly. "hi! i'm yeosang, nice to finally see your fa-"

yeosang didn’t notice your messenger bag by the door and is caught off as he trips over it. but instead of hitting the floor, yeosang somersaults over the bag and gets up like nothing just happened. standing there, stunned and surprised himself, he says, “you didnt see that.”

he looked down at your bag, about to pretend to kick it out the door, when he notices your patches. “pierce the veil? who is that?”

you smiled and this time, you take out spotify yourself to show yeosang your playlists.

next, hongjoong walked into the room. his hair was a striking royal blue and he was all suited up with a gold trim, black jacket. a regal look you were sure would make his fans go absolutely wild for him.

"y/n? it's so nice to finally meet you." he stuck out his hand. "our new stylist"

still holding eyeshadow brushes and cotton rounds in your hands, you weren't expecting such a nice greeting. you quickly set everything down and straighten yourself up to shake his hand. "that's me."

hongjoong settles down in the chair in front of you and closes his eyes.

"what are you doing?" you laugh, as you look for primer to start him off.

hongjoong immediately opens his eyes again. "oh.." he says nervously. "are you not starting yet?"

you chuckle to yourself, what an interesting guy. "i haven't even got the primer out yet."

his palm hits his face and slides down slowly in shame. "i'm sorry, i'm a bit of a mess. it's our first show since the pandemic and... i don't know. i'm excited to meet our fans again, but nervous they won't like what we have in store for them. it's just been so long since our last show..almost two years"

you stop rummaging in your bag to stare at him in shock. "what? of course they'll love you" you couldn't believe you were becoming a celebrity therapist, too. "and besides, you have an awesome stylist that will make you look out of this world."

hongjoong scratches his head and laughs lightly. "yeah..yeah you're right. i just love our fans so much, they mean the world to us"

you look at hongjoong as he continues to nervously scratch his head. where was the notion that these guys would be too much to handle? after only six members had finished their makeup, it seemed they were some of the sweetest and most devoted people you have ever worked with, even met. the stylists that decide to leave these angelic boys dropped the ball, big time.

—

as hongjoong thanked you for your hard work and walked out, you began looking at the list to see which member was next to come in. before you got your answer, you jumped as the door opened right as hongjoong closed it.

wearing another gold trim velvet jacket, held together by a single button, the most attractive- no, stunning man you have ever came across walked right through the dressing room door.

you never usually got starstruck and even the previous members were encapsulating beautiful. but this man, with his black hair still wet and slick from his shower and his jawline locked towards you, something about him made you almost stumble off your stool.

"oh. um..h-hi. n-nice to finally meet you" you said as you regained balanced, cringing at your own words.

he chuckled and closed his eyes, shaking his head. "oh, i already know you." he stepped a couple feet closer so you were now right under his gaze, under his chin. you could smell the faint cologne coming off his skin, making you want to get even closer to him to get another whiff, but you just stood there, in awe.

it took you a second to register what he just said. "wait..what does that mean?"

his brown eyes glinted and you could feel his breath on your face. a smile peeked at the corner of his lips and he said almost at a whisper, "you're that beautiful girl who lives three doors down from our trailer, right?"

looking into the dressing room mirror behind him, you gawk at yourself. is he talking about me?

turning to back to face him, you shrug. "n-no. i'm just your stylist." you go into your pocket and dig out the folded paper the director gave you to prove the truth: you really were just some girl kq hired to put makeup on him. he was getting you confused with someone else, someone much more interesting than you, right?

he took the paper out of your hand and suddenly began ripping it, shred after shred, letting the paper fall to the ground in between you. he bends down to look into your eyes.

my god, you didn't realize how large he was. you were too distracted by his broad shoulders that looked like they were about to burst out of his jacket. you could see right down the center of his shirt and you could almost see-

"i'm san and you're y/n, my stylist, the fine girl with the patches on her bookbag who lives in trailer 1021." he tilted his head and smirked, the tip of his tongue peeking out the corner of his lips. "don't act like i don't know exactly who you are. i know a pretty girl when i see one."

you stood there, stunned. there's no way he was still talking about you. "i'm not sure what you mean..san."

san stands back up. "tsk, tsk," he sighed, shaking his head so the water droplets fell off his soaking hair onto your shirt. you watch the droplets seep into the cotto, wondering if some of his sweat was mixed in. "don't worry, pretty girl. we'll get to know each other soon enough."

he proceeds to sit in the chair in front of you, innocently looking up with his adorable brown eyes, as if he was not just full-on flirting with his stylist seconds before. "just put the makeup on me, if you will."

you roll your eyes with a smile and start setting the concealer on his face.

"sorry, i-" you start to say, but your own giggles cut you off. "i just- i never heard someone say that kind of thing about me. caught me off guard, that's all."

san's eyes droop and he pouts. "you mean no one has ever told you how beautiful your hair falls off you." he touches the hand by your side, grazing his fingertips over your own. "or how hard you are making it to sit in my chair right now"

oh my god, you think to yourself, this has to be a all in my head. a member of ateez was sitting here flirting with you and trying to hold your hand, looking so enchantingly into your eyes.

part of you wants to grab his hand and rope your fingers between his and tell him, no one's ever told me that before, but i'll let you be the first. you sigh at the thought.

"no mishaps." the director's words ring in you're ears. you're here for one thing and one only. don't fuck it up.

as if he read your mind, san starts to drag his fingers over your palm, but you yank your hand away before he gets that far.

"nope, no one." you turn back to your makeup bag. "bow, please be silent while i draw on your eyeliner." you assert your dominance back in the conversation, trying to diffuse the hot tension boiling between you and the finest, yet most annoying man you've ever met.

san pouts again and his pupils grow, almost like a kitten's. he folds his hand in his lap and heaves out a sigh that you try to ignore. "alright, i guess. but at least let me see your face, pretty girl, one more time.. if i can't compliment it"

you turn around and give him a pity smile. "fine. now, close your eyes."

surprisingly, he does what you say, a thin-lipped smile stuck on his face as if he was satisfied with being nowhere else but here with you, letting you do whatever you want to him.

"so, who's your favorite?"

san's question causes you to shake and run a streak of eyeliner down his face.

"shit! sorry- um," you race to clean him up as he remains unbothered, waiting patiently for your answer. you wipe his face and admit, "i honestly don't have one, i mean, i just met all. of you "

san chuckles lightly, "don't lie, i know you have a favorite."

your face turns a shade of red that he thankfully can't see because he still waits patiently for your eyeliner with his lids closed. "i still have one member left after you. i'll let you know who i decide later."

"okay." san lifts his hand up. "shake on it."

now he's lost it. you know for a fact he just wants you to succumb to his charms (which you almost did, but you remained strong) and say oh, san, it's you, of course! but you were his stylist. you worked for him. an obvious power imbalance and obviously something that would mess up your career, and everything you worked for.

"i'm all good. i'll let you know my answer, if i feel like it." you assert with him. this time, san opens his eyes and smirks.

"well, princess, i don't think you-"

"all done!" you snap the blush pad closed, sarcasm hanging off your lips and not realizing he was about to say something. "thanks for being such an amazing client!"

this cannot happen again, before anyone finds out you and san were just within inches of each other, breathing on each other and feeling on each other's hands and-

"wait, y/n, can i-" san starts.

"i'm all good, actually, whatever it is. you need to keep the cycle moving anyway" you usher him out. however, he snatches the folded paper off the table and rips a small piece off, quickly scribbling something onto it.

he hands you the paper back, re-folded, and whispers in your ear, hot breath rubbing against your eardrums and making you squirm.

"for when you're ready."

he bows to you and closes the dressing room door carefully, leaving you in silence, standing with a paper in your hand and the air conditioner running loudly. you unfold the paper carefully and your jaw drops at its contents:

a phone number scrawled hastily onto the paper, attached with only the words, "for when my pretty girl decides to tell me i'm her favorite :)"

series masterlist | next chapter

tag list: @atinytinaa @cloudysannie @s10an

#please give this love and tell me what you think #part 2 will be longer i swear #ateez #ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez yeosang #ateez jongho #ateez wooyoung #ateez au #ateez yunho #ateez imagines #ateez reader insert #ateez seonghwa #ateez san smut #ateez san fanfic #ateez hongjoong

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snarky-art · 4 months

Note

bbyyyy SOTLK dresses redesign?

These were actually really interesting to work with, both in trying to keep colors and shapes from the original dresses combined with adding my own lore to it! Except for Aisha’s which wounded my so. I really wanted to keep her flowers but I just,, couldn’t get it to look right🥲 I added purple instead tho which is the color of the flower of andros, which is similar in appearance to a Camas Lily. They bloom in lush expansions all along the coast of the land of Androsia, where the mainland and sands meet.

More info on outfits below!

Musa: Tang dynasty influence. Did my best to keep some of the shapes from the og gown. The 2 red dots that I’ve featured a few times in either side of Musa’s mouth in different designs represent loudness and boldness and are commonly used symbols in a lot of melody, which are traits one would want to represent when holding as representation for the different cultures of Melody, proud of their heritage and great unbending will.

Aisha: mentioned some above about the purple additions to be the substitutes for actual flowers. Kept the split down the middle at the dress itself, just changed its length and shape, trying to keep the shape of the original one some with the purple bits below the corset tho

Tried to keep more true greens than teals too. She deserves more sleek satin fits also. Most of the stuff I draw her in I imagine there’s satin I just decided to do shading this time lol

Tecna: I decided before even designing this I wanted to keep that jacket on them at all costs. Happy with the shapes overall here and really love the colors. Probably my favorite of these looks. Shiny pants and silk featured because they look good on them. To me, they aren’t Tecna if they don’t have some weird heels too.

Flora: probably my least favorite design just because I feel like I need to get better at giving them more variety in their outfits, but I did what I could to keep a lot of the shapes present. Instead of those 2 long flower strands, I just had them replaced with the split full of flowers down the side.

Bloom: empire waistlines are very much the norm in Dominion fashion with not as many ruffles or as expanded a gown shape as featured here, but Bloom is new to this and her parents wanted her to be as comfortable as possible for the celebration. Bloom got to have direct input on the adjustments to the dress and is living the princess dream she’s always wanted currently. She intentionally looks a little awakward as a result, the stylists doing what they could to accommodate what she wanted and mesh it with traditional Dominion fashion styles to reiterate that Domino is what she represents. The slightly more formal front hairpiece with the additional 2 gold curls is present to make the statement that Domino is so back and Bloom is even wearing the golden headpiece that the heir wears to show this. It’s not until after the party she learns it was Daphne’s, and that leads to some Insecurities and the reality of what reviving Domino actually means for Bloom. More spirals coming in waves after this point. As always with Dominion garb the cyan gems are for those of the royal family and purples are for those that work with The Dragon Flame.

Stella: by this point in the story, Stella really starts to get more involved with Lunarian stuff and connect with her moon culture. It starts small in her presentation, with certain cuts of cloth (the slope of the fabric on the top part of the skirt) and the style of some of her jewelry, specifically the one with gems that is tilted to match the fabric shape and the incorporation of more blue gems. She also stops straightening her hair all the time (her hair is blonde from her mother, whom is Lunarian, but the saturation comes from her Solarian genetics, making the color look like it’s from Solarian genetics. Straightening it to match the majority of Solarian hair was a sure way to make sure she passed as Solarian until someone notices her pupils, which are Lunarian. She no longer fears if she’s passing or not. She is learning to take pride in her moon side).

Stella choosing to have the little blue gems on the bottom of her gold jam dress bit instead of gold or more orange is a bold move also she is starting her proper journey to doing joint work and advocating properly for systemic change for Lunaria.

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bleach-your-panties · 6 months

Text

💔the financial abuser - kingpin!touya todoroki x black! wife!reader

warnings: modern au/no quirks, drug family business, mention of past child abuse (y'all know the story), family illness (not touya or y/n), oral (m! receiving), car sex, pre-marital sex, dacryphilia, degradation, breeding kink, size kink, pregnancy, coercion, controlling/obsessive behavior, stalking, angry outbursts, choking (not in a sexual context), drug use, gaslighting, manipulation, verbal abuse, emotional abuse, mental illness, serious injury/hospitalization. read at your own risk!

☠️: some dialogue/actions inspired by true events.

💔: banner images from pinterest

💔: banner made by me with canva

💔post themes: ain't about the money - t.i. ft. young thug

soldier - destiny's child

throat baby (remix) -

brs kash ft. city girls

baby by me - 50 cent ft. neyo

whatever you like - t.i.

what you know - t.i.

superman - eminem

papers - usher

roses - outkast

gold digger - kanye west

💔9.7k words!

💔read in dark mode for best experience!

🖤yo. 🖤series. 🖤iida.

—-

----

If you ain’t no punk, holler,

“We want prenup!”

Yeah, that’s something that you need to have

‘Cause when she leave yo ass

She gone leave with half

___

You met your husband, Touya, at a hair salon in your neighborhood.

In the "hood", so to speak. You grew up in an impoverished neighborhood in one of the roughest cities to live in in the nation, with an 80% black population and a violent crime rate 95% higher than the national average.

Although it was dangerous as hell, the living conditions were less than desirable, and you were constantly surrounded by sketchy people, this was your home.

You'd grown up in this city and attended school here from elementary through university. Now at age 26, you're a successful chemical engineer, working as a consultant for the city's power plant.

Your parents are both deceased unfortunately; your father died in your childhood and your mother passed away after a long battle with breast cancer just after your senior year of university, so as far as family went, you only had your dear aunt, who was getting up in age.

She's your father's sister, having supported you throughout most of your academic life by helping you get back and forth to campus, attending all necessary parental conferences when your mother was too sick to, and finally, attending all of your graduation ceremonies. You are extremely thankful for her.

Present day, all you do is work, pretty much.

With your work, you usually have to keep your hair pulled back in a tight bun and covered with a protective hair cap. It was always a relief to be able to get your hair done and have your stylist rub her long, acrylic nails against your scalp while she lathered your natural tresses with sweet-smelling shampoo.

The soft ding of the bell hanging over the door alerted you to a newcomer's presence while you sat underneath the dryer reading one of the old Jet magazines that every salon always seemed to keep on hand.

"Good afternoon, ladies."

You looked up from your magazine and your dark brown eyes fell upon the most handsome man you had ever seen.

Tall, muscular frame, skin the color of freshly churned milk and hulking arms a collage of black ink. He was no shorter than 6'5'' at the least. You could tell by the way that he had to duck under the door frame to come inside the shop.

"Heyyy, Touya~" Your eyes moved around, pupils enlarging as you realized that every other woman in the shop had stopped whatever they were doing to greet this man.

Just who is this guy?

He walked further inside the small salon, his small, narrowed, turquoise eyes roaming over each and every feminine face before stopping at yours.

Oh no, he's walking over here!

Your face began to heat up; you hated being put on the spot and this man was just too gorgeous, you might faint!

He smirked at you and dug his big hands into the pockets of his black joggers.

"What's up, pretty? I think I would remember seeing a face as gorgeous as yours around here. What's your name?"

Your stylist came over then, smacking her lips at Touya and motioning for you to come over to her chair.

"Leave her alone, Touya. She wants nothing to do with the likes of you. She's a good girl, she's not interested in thugs."

That made your blush worsen and you lowered your head to the tiled floor, hoping that he'd just move on and bother one of the other women.

Touya laughed loudly. He brought his arms up to rest behind his hair, which you now noticed to be a brilliant white, just like freshly fallen snow.

His big biceps bulged and you could see that they were also covered in tattoos. He even had them all along his neck, trailing upwards to just under his chiseled jawline and then downwards, disappearing into his white V-neck.

"How do you know what she likes, Tisha? And I'm not a thug, I'm a well-respected businessman, I'll have you know."

The entire shop cracked up at that, making your anxiety lessen just as you looked up to further examine this man.

Unfortunately, he caught you looking and bit his lip at you. Usually, the gesture would've made you cringe, but it was different when he did it. It was sexy.

His lips were a little plump and when he bit them, you could see two glints of silver: a tongue stud and a lip stud.

"Y/n is my name." You said simply.

He smiled this time and squatted down so you didn't have to crane your neck to look at his face.

"Y/n, huh? Pretty name for a pretty girl."

You almost wanted to roll your eyes, but instead, you smiled.

"Thank you….Touya…"

He nodded slightly. More glints of silver when he made the gesture; he also had his right eyebrow pierced, three stud piercings in his nostril, and multiple silver hoops in each ear.

“God had no business making this man this damn fine.”

A deep chuckle broke you out of your thought process.

"Well, I appreciate that, beautiful. Tisha, don't charge her anything for her hair. I'll pay for it."

Aw, shit, did I say that out loud?! Nice going, Y/n!

"What? No! You don't have to do that, I can pay for myself!" You huffed. You knew this game all too well.

If he paid for your hair, he'd feel like you owed him something. Not a chance.

"Oh, girl hush and let that man pay for you. Keep that $750 in your pocket, shit." Tisha chuckled as she began to install your wig.

Touya handed her the money out of his wallet while grinning. He held his hands up, palms facing you in a gesture of surrender.

“I promise I don’t want anything in return, but maybe you wouldn’t mind grabbing breakfast with me one day? I know this great spot right down the street from the salon.”

You scoffed, now finally rolling your eyes at him.

“That’s still wanting something, pretty boy, even if it’s only a meal.”

Touya shrugged. “So that’s a no, then? Too bad. I won’t keep bothering you, though. See ya around, pretty girl.” He teased with a smug look on his face before turning and walking back out the door of the salon.

A few hours later, Tisha was done with your hair. She handed you a mirror so you could look at yourself.

“Thanks, Tish, it looks amazing!” You dug in your purse for your wallet so you could give her a tip, but she stopped you.

“Girl, what are you doing? Touya already paid me.” Eyebrows scrunched, you pushed the $20 bill into her hand anyway and got up out of the chair before she could protest.

“Just take it. Maybe next time I come I can get a discount on my lash installment.”

“Girl, you crazy! Get on out of here!”

You left the shop smiling to yourself. The bell tinkled over your head as you walked out into the bright sunlight.

Your smile immediately dropped when you walked over to your car and noticed that you had a flat tire.

“Oh no, what the hell?! When did that get there? Aw, man…”

The offending item that had punctured your tire was a long, rusty nail sticking out the side of it.

“Dammit, now I’m going to have to call a tow truck.” You sighed and pulled your iPhone out of your purse.

“Need some help, pretty?”

It was Touya - he’s still been here all this time?

He casually leaned up against a smoke-gray Range Rover with black rims. The brake calipers had been spray-painted a deep purple.

“Oh, Touya. There’s a nail in my tire, but it’s fine, I can just call-”

“I can wait with you for the tow truck and then take you home.” He offered. Getting up off the truck, he stalked his way over, taking long strides. In a second, he was standing right next to you, so close that you could smell his expensive cologne.

You didn’t know how to react, just kind of looking up at him with a stuck expression on your face.

“Uh, you really don’t have to…I could just call someone..”

“Why do that when I’m standing right here?”

A perfectly arched eyebrow raised. “Because I don’t know you? You could be a serial killer.”

You know now that he’s most likely a drug dealer, like that was any better…but yeah.

Touya just laughed at you and shook his head.

“Not gonna make it easy for me, huh? I like that. Keep it up, baby doll. I’ll get you sooner or later.” He walked back over to his truck and opened the driver-side door.

“At least come sit and chat with me until the tow truck comes?” You couldn’t continue to resist him, no matter how much you wanted to. Especially when he looked at you with those turquoise eyes.

—-

And that’s how your whirlwind romance began.

—-

Now I ain’t saying she a gold digger

But she ain’t messing with no broke niggas

Now I ain’t saying she a gold digger

But she ain’t messing with no broke niggas

Cutie the bomb, met her at a beauty salon

With a baby Louis Vuitton under her arm

She said, “I can tell you rock, I can tell by your charm

Far as girls you got a flock

I can tell by your charm and your arm”

But I’m lookin’ for the one, have you seen her?

—-

After that day, you and Touya began somewhat of a friendship.

Whenever you came to get your hair done, he’d somehow always be there and he’d always pay for your hair, nails, and lashes. Turns out that he owned the beauty salon, the diner that he offered to take you out to, and pretty much everything else on that strip.

One day after you got off of work, you were surprised to see his truck out in the parking lot.

He was waiting for you.

“Touya! Funny meeting you here, what’s up?” You put your hands on your hips.

“I want to take you on a date tonight.”

Your eyes bulged slightly, probably making you look like a fool, but Touya didn’t waver in his proposition.

"What do you say, pretty? Go out with me?"

You began weighing all the positives and negatives of going on a date with him. He could have a gaggle of jealous exes just waiting to catch him with another woman and raise hell, or one of his opps that was waiting to catch him slipping so they could blow his head off.

Tough decision, but eventually you folded and agreed.

—-

After your first date, you saw Touya more and more, seemingly everywhere you went.

The grocery store, the mall, restaurants. You even saw him across the street from your dentist's office one day while leaving an appointment.

Despite all of these seemingly random pop-ups, you found yourself undeniably attracted to Touya, which may have clouded your judgment just a tad.

So over the next several weeks, Touya would continue to show up at your job and surprise you with flowers, food from his diner, and lavish gifts.

This is how you would end up kneeling underneath the dashboard in Touya's Range in the parking lot of the industrial plant, hours after your shift had ended.

His black sweatpants were pulled down his thick, muscled thighs and pooled around his ankles while you struggled to take his huge cock into your mouth.

He regarded you with those cool, turquoise eyes, one large hand planted firmly on the top of your head as he guided you up and down on his hard shaft.

"Just like that, pretty. Such a perfect, slutty mouth. Yeah, you like being slutted out outside of your job? Not the perfect, innocent little scholar right now, are you?"

You hummed around his dick, saliva spilling from the corners of your mouth while you breathed steadily through your nose.

Touya's degradation never failed to turn you on, but sometimes you felt like he was just being mean intentionally.

His hands pressed down on your head harder, forcing you to take him further down your aching throat. Once he started, Touya wouldn't let up until he fucked your throat raw and tears streamed down your beautiful face, ruining your expensive makeup.

He loved to see you cry.

"There you go, baby. That's my good girl. Take my cock like only you can."

You moaned around him as best you could, but your jaw was aching and you felt like you'd pass out from lack of oxygen any moment now.

Suddenly, you were being pulled off of him by the roots of your hair. Touya dragged you over the center console into the backseat with you sputtering and trying to catch your breath.

"Down." He ordered and you immediately obeyed, getting on your hands and knees.

He clambered over you clumsily, his height preventing him from being able to get into the exact position that he wanted, but this would have to do.

"Arch."

Tattooed hands came down to hold your lower hips as soon as you arched your back.

You were already wet from sucking him off, but due to the sheer size of Touya's dick, it wouldn't be enough.

Hiking one foot up, he removed one hand to guide his dick into your hole. You immediately felt the burn.

"TOUYA! It's too much…" You moaned with your head turned slightly to the side to look over your shoulder at him.

"Not too much, baby. Never too much for you, my sweet girl. Take me, baby. Take my big fucking dick in your tiny little hole. I know you can do it."

Your freshly done acrylics scraped against the car door while Touya grabbed your expensive bundles up in one hand and forced your head completely flat on the floor with the other.

His pace was hard and rough, but he knew you were loving everything that he was giving you judging by your moans.

"Shit, pussy's so good baby, sucking me in so nice…fuuuccck!"

Of all of the women that he's fucked, you were the only one that had been able to take all of him without passing out.

It was a shock to you as well, how you hadn't passed out already from Touya's deep stroking. No doubt his fat tip was hitting your cervix; you could feel him in your damn stomach.

"Touya, I'm going to cum!" Your words were muffled, but he could just make out what you were trying to say and feel you clenching around him.

His eyes watched your ass move in waves as he pounded into you with everything he had, no doubt making the entire car shake from the sheer force of his thrusts.

“Come on, cum on this dick, baby. Make a mess on me, baby doll,” He cooed softly, leaning over you to press you against the floor as he rolled his hips into you.

"TOUYA!"

"Yes, scream my name, girl! SHIT!"

—-

The next thing you knew, you were waking up in the front of a large mansion with a high, wrought-iron gate around it. It was surrounded by acres of land, all to itself off in the countryside. A soft, fleece blanket covered your naked body.

"Where are we? Is this your house?"

"Fucked you so good you lost your memory, baby, but yes, this is my house."

"Why'd you bring me here?"

"Why wouldn't I? Why, you'd rather me fuck your brains out and just leave you passed out, only to wake up alone in a fucking parking lot in the dark? Come on, Y/n." You could see him roll his eyes through the rearview mirror.

Remaining silent, you just hugged the blanket tighter around your shoulders.

"So where do we go from here, Touya? What's next for us?"

He hit a button and the doors unlocked. Touya came around to open your door and then scooped you up into his strong arms, holding you close to his chest.

"I brought you here in hopes that you'd agree to be my girlfriend."

"What if I say no?"

"Then I have to kill you."

"WHAT!?"

"I'm just playing, girl. Damn. So will you? Will you be my baby?"

—-

Touya and you began dating that night, and not even six months later, he asked you to marry him.

And you said yes.

Now, you believed that you were in love with Touya. He treated you like a princess and showered you with expensive gifts: jewelry, cars, designer clothes, shoes, and bags. Whatever your heart desired. Not to mention he was sweet, attentive, caring, loving, and amazing in bed.

Little did you know that Touya had another side to him.

—-

Stacks on deck, patron on ice

And we could pop bottles all night, and,

Baby, you could have whatever you like

I said you could have whatever you like, yeah

Late-night sex, so wet, it's so tight

I gas up the jet for you tonight

And baby you can go wherever you like

I said you can go wherever you like, yeah

—-

While you were planning your wedding, many of your friends and family members came to you with concerns about your fiance. Including your beloved aunt.

“That boy is no good, Y/n. I’m telling you. Just look into those cold, soulless eyes of his. That boy is not right in the head.” She would rant as you sat on her living room couch with wedding books opened up all around you.

"Please, Auntie. Touya is a good guy. Sure, he's in the streets, but he'd never hurt me."

"You don't sound too sure of yourself."

Rolling your eyes, you had heard enough of the negativity.

Gathering up the books and magazines, you threw them into your new Louis Vuitton tote bag and pulled it onto your shoulder.

"I have to go, Auntie, or I'll be late for my dress fitting. I love you." You leaned down to give her a hug and kiss on the jaw.

"I love you, too, baby. Just please think about what I've been saying before you rush into this marriage, alright?"

"Alright, I hear you. I'm gone."

You stepped out of her house and closed the screen door behind you. Your black BMW M3 with the custom purple wheels sat pretty in the driveway. Touya had it custom-painted for you, said that everyone needs to know that you're his woman.

As you were backing out of the driveway, you heard your phone vibrating in your bag.

🖤🫶🏾Husband💜 would like to FaceTime…

You declined the request and hooked your phone up to the car mount, immediately calling him back on the phone.

"What the fuck, Y/n? Why are you declining my calls? Where the hell are you at? I've been calling you all damn day!" He barked through the receiver, making you cringe.

"I-I just got in the car, I'm leaving Auntie's house, on the way home now…"

You could almost hear him rolling his eyes on the other end.

"Yeah, and what did she want now? Still bitching about you marrying me?" He scoffed.

"Touya, stop that. She's only concerned about me, that's all."

"Yeah, whatever you say, Y/n. I know that your whole fucking family despises me, not that I give a fuck, though. I'm marrying you, not any of them."

"That's true, Touya, but it would be better if you at least tried to get along with them."

"Well, maybe they should stop judging a book by its cover and try to get along with me since I'm about to be your husband."

"I don't think that's how it works, but okay, Touya. I'll be pulling up in a little bit."

"Are you trying to rush me off the phone? I called because I want to see you before I leave tonight. Gotta fly to Tijuana for business."

Of course, 'for business' meant, to pick up a "shipment".

—-

Ayy, don't you know I got kis by the three

When I chirp, shawty chirp back

Louie knapsack where I'm holding all the work at

What you know about that?

I know all about that

—-

"And by 'see me', you mean get your dick wet. I have wedding stuff to do, baby. I have to fly to Paris to pick up my dress and how am I supposed to do that if you're taking the jet?" You complained.

"Just send your assistant to get it. I need you here to take care of me, baby doll, just like how I take care of you. Come on, now."

You wanted to retort that you needed to be there to try it on, but there was no arguing with Touya, especially when he wanted sex.

"Okay, I'm almost there. Tell the guards to open the gate."

—-

"Ohh shit, Touya, baby, give me that dick~"

"Yeah baby, you like that?"

And that's how the two of you went along for the rest of the night, Touya putting you in all different types of positions, beating your shit in.

He was always rough, pulling your hair and smacking your ass until it was raw and red.

He made sure to leave marks all over your neck and titties as well, marring your brown skin so that whenever any man looked at you, they'd KNOW that you were getting dicked down by a real motherfucking king.

"God Y/n, how do you keep this shit so tight? I'm gonna bust my load in you, fuck around, and get you pregnant tonight, girl."

"Mmm, if we don't stop now you're going to miss your flight."

"Fuck it," He chuckled, "I'll call Shoto to handle it."

Shoto, his younger brother who'd just finished college a semester ago. Touya had taken him underneath his wing to train him to be next in line for the family business.

His other siblings, Natsuo and Fuyumi, wanted nothing to do with this life and just worked everyday blue-collar jobs.

"Here, get on top of me. Ride this dick while I make the call."

You sighed but complied nonetheless and crawled up onto his lap as he reclined against the head of your shared California king bed.

"Hello?" You heard Shoto's bland, emotionless voice come over the receiver.

"Hey Sho, I need you to go handle that for me. Jet's already loaded and ready to go."

"What? Why can't you do it?"

"Because I told you to do it and I'm the boss."

"Yeah whatever, you're probably too busy fucking. Hey Y/n." He snickered, causing your cheeks to heat up. He knew his older brother too well.

Touya hung up on him and tossed the phone to the side, grabbing your hips and slamming you down onto his thick cock.

"You gonna let me get you pregnant, huh, baby? Gonna let me breed this little cunt, stuff you nice and full, and make you fat with my seed?"

You weren't quite sure that you were ready to have a child, but you were starting to get up in age and you and Touya are getting married, so what's the harm? You nodded.

"Yes, Touya. I love you. Make me a mommy."

—-

Have a baby by me, baby, be a millionaire

Be a millionaire, be a millionaire, b-be a millionaire

I don't play no games (I don't play no games)

So when I'm in that thang (when I'm in that thang)

Come see what I mean (see what I mean)

See what I mean, see what I mean, oh

I said lil mama put me on (baby, put me on)

Bet I'll have you gone (bet I'll have you gone)

Come see what I mean, see what I mean

See what I mean (see what I mean)

New music, new mood, new position

New erotic sounds, it's going down, now listen

I can hear your heartbeat, you're sweating

I could paint a perfect picture

I get deeper and deeper, I told ya I'd get ya

I'd work that murk that, just the way you like it, baby

Turn a quickie into an all-nighter maybe

Yo, I need you to be what I need, more than liquor and weed

I need you to maybe give me a seed

I need you to give me reason to breathe

I need you

—-

Time Skip, Wedding Day

"Are you sure that you want to do this?" Fuyumi asked you while she was putting your veil in your hair.

You only giggled softly, rubbing a hand over your small baby bump.

"I think it's a little too late to back out now, Fuyumi." She shook her head, making her white and red curls bounce.

"It's never too late to change your mind. You're not his wife, yet. Y/n, I love my brother with all of my heart, but honestly, you deserve so much better than him."

It was hurtful to hear, but you weren't shocked by the young woman's words.

Natsuo and Fuyumi were like your family; they also didn't think that you should marry Touya.

"I'm pregnant with his child, Fuyu, and I don't want to be a single mother. I love Touya with all my heart as well, and whatever he went through in the past, we can get through it together. I'll be there for him, til death do us part."

Fuyumi just let out a long sigh and tried to put on a smile.

"I can't say I didn't try, but okay. If this is what will really make you happy. Just please take care of yourself and the baby, no matter what. Protect yourself."

She handed you your bouquet just as the wedding music began playing.

"I'll see you at the altar."

She left, leaving you alone. You peeked out the door and saw the flower girls and ring bearers go down the aisle.

Taking a deep breath, you exhaled and tightened your hands around your flowers.

"Hey, beautiful."

Your head whipped around so fast you almost gave yourself whiplash.

It was Touya, standing there in his all-white suit with a purple silk dress shirt opened up to show off his tattooed chest.

"Touya!? What are you doing here, you're supposed to be at the altar!"

"Hmm, the wedding can't start without us, baby. I just wanted to give you something really quick."

He reached into the breast pocket of the suit jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper and a pen.

You watched him carefully.

"What is this?"

"A prenup."

"A what? Touya, I'm not signing a prenup minutes before our wedding! Why are you just bringing this to me now?"

He furrowed his white eyebrows, not liking the tone you were taking with him.

"I'm sorry, but who do you think you're talking to, Y/n? You should know not to ever raise your voice at me. Not even my own mother yells at me, baby doll, and you're damn sure not about to start. Now sign the goddamn prenup or I'm calling all this shit off."

No way! He wouldn't actually call the wedding off, would he? Not after all of your hard work, not after everything you'd been through in the past couple of months.

Your dear aunt had been diagnosed with coronary artery disease a few months ago and hadn't been doing too well. She'd been in and out of the hospital frequently and even had to leave her job because of it.

You begged Touya to hire an in-home nurse to care for her and, after much disagreement, he finally let you.

Why would he do this to you now? Moments before your special day?

With your lower lip wobbling and tears beginning to spill out of your eyes, you took the paper with a shaky hand and signed your signature on the line, initialing where it directed you to.

Touya chuckled darkly once you were done and took it back from you, stuffing it into his pocket.

Why would he make you sign a prenup? You didn't know much about this type of stuff, but usually, prenups weren't good.

However, you couldn't fathom losing Touya or your fairytale life. You were finally getting everything that you ever wanted.

A family.

"Hey, don't cry, baby doll. You know I'll always take care of you, right?"

He moved in to kiss you, his hand covering your bump and rubbing it softly. With his pinky, he swiped the tears from under your eyes, careful not to smudge your face makeup.

You nodded slowly and he smiled at you.

"I love you, Y/n."

With that, he left the room.

—

Five Years Later

Being married to Touya was not at all how you expected it to be.

After quitting your job and becoming a full-time housewife, your life seemed to go into a downward spiral.

While you were dating, you’d found out that Touya and his siblings had grown up in an abusive household where his father beat him, his siblings, and their mother. His mother had had a hard time coping with what she'd been through, so the four siblings had agreed to have her committed to a mental health care facility.

During their childhood, in a fit of psychosis, their mother threw a pot of boiling water on Shoto, disfiguring the left side of his face. An ugly, red-marred patch of skin now covered the once-perfect porcelain.

After that incident, Touya left home and never looked back.

He talked very little about his father, so what you did know, you had to find out from Fuyumi, who still maintained limited contact with their father. Neither Natsuo nor Shoto talked about the man.

Many times, you had tried to persuade Touya to get therapy in order to deal with his past traumas, but he never listened. If anything, he would become completely enraged whenever you would broach the subject.

It also didn't help that Touya was now even more deeply involved in the drug lifestyle.

At first, it didn't bother you as much as it should have, but as time went on things just got worse and worse.

Your son, Takuya, was now five years old and you really didn't want him exposed to the people and dealings that Touya was involved in.

Takuya would ask you many questions:

Mommy, why is Daddy never home?

Who are these strange people in our house?

Why can't my friends come over to spend the night?

Why does Daddy have flour underneath his nose?

Yes.

Touya had been abusing cocaine ever since your third year of marriage.

He said that it helped ease his mind. Made him forget the past.

A knock came on his office door, causing the turquoise-eyed man to look up at it.

"What, Y/n?" He asked in irritation once he looked up and saw you standing there, just staring at him.

"Are you seriously getting high in the middle of the day?"

Spread out over his desktop were multiple, identical lines of freshly chopped cocaine. With a rolled-up hundred-dollar bill, Touya closed off one of his nostrils while he used the bill to snort the white powder into the other.

He did it effortlessly, almost elegantly.

"Touya, really? What if Takuya ever walked in and saw you doing this shit? You know he's getting older now, and he's started asking me questions about your…habit."

Touya didn’t seem deterred; better yet, he most likely hadn’t heard a word that you’d said as he focused on the feeling of the drug entering his system.

“Did you fucking need something, Y/n? If not, then kindly get the fuck out. I’m busy.”

You gave him an incredulous look but bit your tongue and nodded.

“I need you to sign the check for Takuya’s school tuition so I can mail it off today.”

Touya sucked his teeth and sniffled. With the back of his tattooed hand, he wiped his nose roughly.

“Of course, that’s what you always need. Money. “

With a soft sigh, you prepared yourself for one of his rants. On top of abusing drugs, Touya had been diagnosed with, post-traumatic stress disorder, dissociative identity disorder, and bipolar disorder.

You’d seen him dissociate firsthand, especially when he was high. You figured that the alternate personality that he’d created stemmed from his traumatic childhood. This persona’s name was Dabi, and Dabi was not nice by any means. He was awful, much worse than normal, agitated Touya.

If it wasn’t for you insisting on having genetic testing done while you were pregnant, you’d have never found out what mental ailments your husband had been suffering from.

“Well…if you hadn’t taken my name off of all the accounts, I could have done it myself and not have to disturb you while you’re taking care of business.” You finally snipped. You’d had enough of Touya’s drug abuse, verbal abuse, and emotional abuse.

You had gotten sick of him always taunting you, downplaying you, and making you feel as if you were less of a person because you had left your job, your family, and everything that you knew, in order to cling to him and become his wife.

He made you feel low, lower than the earth beneath your feet, and you had had enough of him.

To pour even more salt into your stinking, infected wounds, Touya treated you like a child.

You had an allowance, you had to call and check in with him anytime you left the house, and he didn’t let you go anywhere without him or one of his guards.

It hadn’t always been like this. No, this behavior only began once you attempted to leave him the first time.

You’d tried to leave Touya many times over the past five years, but your efforts were always in vain. No matter what you did or where you tried to go, he would always find you and bring you back, literally kicking and screaming. After a while, you just decided to give up, telling yourself that you’d never be able to get away from him.

—-

Mmmm

You high, baby? (Yeah)

Yeah? (Hahaha, talk to me)

You want me to tell you something? (Uh huh)

I know what you want to hear

—-

The veins in his neck bulged and he turned on you, turquoise eyes flashing with lightning.

“Did you just talk back to me?”

The blood froze in your veins as Touya stood up, calmly pushing his desk chair back. The wheels screeched eerily across the wooden floor. Touya stomped towards you like a panther, waiting to attack and kill its prey.

“T-Touya- I…”

One hand was all it took to constrict your breathing. Touya held you up like a doll, the muscles in his arm barely flexing as he slammed you against the wooden double doors of the office entrance, making them rattle violently. Your little legs thrashed as you moved your body, attempting to get Touya off of you, to no avail.

“Bitch, how dare you disrespect me, after all I’ve done for you. I took you out of that shitty neighborhood you were living in, took care of you and that fucking brat, took care of your whole fucking family despite them cursing the very ground that I walk on. This is how you repay me? Flapping your fucking lips at me? HUH?!?!”

He yelled directly in your face, making you squint your eyes as spit flew from his lips. His face was so close to yours that you could see up his nostrils, see the white residue from the hit he’d just taken.

If he didn’t let you down soon, you’d pass out. Touya soon realized this, and he let you go, let your body drop to the ground with a ‘thud’ while he stepped back and regarded you without a smidgen of concern.

Your hands flew to your throat as you coughed violently. Your chest burned as you tried to regain the precious oxygen that your lungs had been deprived of for far too long.

—-

You know you want me, baby

You know I want you, too

They call me Superman

I'm here to rescue you

I wanna save you, girl

Come be in Shady's world

(Ooo, boy, you drive me crazy)

Bitch, you make me hurl

—-

"You act like…," you wheezed, then halted to take in a few more deep breaths, "you act like I wasn't somebody before I met you. Like I wasn't on my own, living independently and happily before you came along and messed it all up!"

He must have found your lamentation amusing, because he chuckled, deep in his chest.

"Oh Y/n…when have you ever been independent? Your whole life you've always depended on someone. Your aunt, your family, your friends, and then me. You think you're so special, because what, you went to school and got a degree?"

Said degree was displayed on the back wall of his office. He'd let you hang it there after buying an expensive, mahogany wooden frame lined in real 24k gold for it. A gift for your first year wedding anniversary.

Now the object seemed to offend Touya. He made a beeline for it and snatched it off the back wall before sending it hurling across the room, narrowly missing you before it went crashing against the wall next to the door and shattering.

You whimpered in fear as he began walking back over to you.

Kneeling down so that he was eye-level with you, much like he'd done at your first meeting in the salon, he glared at you with eyes colder than Antarctica.

"How's that degree working for you now, Y/n? You're nothing more than a stupid slut willing to open her legs for the first man that showed her any shred of attention. You're pathetic, and I can't stand the fucking sight of you." He said lowly, the baritone of his voice rumbling in your ears.

You buried your head in your hands, the tears flowing freely down your firearms as you tried to shield yourself from him, from his rage. His hatred.

It wasn't like Touya had never yelled at you before or threw fits when he was high, but this was the first time in five years that he'd ever put his hands on you.

And it would be the last.

"That's it, Touya! I've had enough! You're impossible and I'm finished dealing with you and your issues. I'm leaving for good this time."

Touya laughed at you again. He just kept laughing for a long time.

"That's really funny. Have fun trying to leave me with no money and nowhere to go. You'll be back. You always come back, Y/n, because you can't survive without me."

Your tear-soaked face curled up in disgust; you couldn't believe what this man was saying to you right now.

"Since you're so adamant on leaving though, you can go ahead and get the fuck out."

"Pardon?"

He stood to full height again.

"Did I stutter? Get the fuck out of my house, right now, Y/n."

"No! We're married, which makes this my house, too! You can't just put me out!"

He must have thought that you still weren't getting enough oxygen to your brain, because Touya grabbed you by the arms and hoisted you up.

You kicked, screamed, and clawed at him all the way, almost causing him to drop you a few times, but finally he made it to the large ornate doors leading to the outside of the estate.

"NO! TOUYA, NO! NO!"

—-

They call me Superman

Leap tall hoes in a single bound

I'm single now

Got no ring on this finger now

I'll never let another chick bring me down

In a relationship? Save it, bitch

Babysit? You make me sick

Superman ain't saving shit

Girl, you can jump on Shady's dick

—-

Thank goodness Takuya was at school and not here to witness the scene of his father throwing his mother out of her own house.

"I hate you, Touya! You hear me?! I HATE YOU! You won't get away with this!"

Was the last thing the snow-haired man heard before he slammed the door in your face. You heard all of the locks and the deadbolt click.

With fury, you kicked at the closed door with all your might.

You were kicked out now, with nothing. Not your purse, wallet, clothes, phone, or anything. Only your Apple watch on your wrist, which you guessed might be a bit of help.

Looking down at it, you noticed that it was charged to 75%, which was good. You'd have time to get to a charger.

With an indignant huff, you rushed down the many stairs leading from the house and into the driveway where your car was parked.

It would be a dumb idea to get in and try to drive it, because Touya more likely than not had a tracker installed into it. However, you had an idea.

—-

Don't put out, I'll put you out

Won't get out, I'll push you out

Puss blew out, popping shit

Wouldn't piss on fire to put you out

—-

See, though you had been quite gullible the past five years, believing that your sham of a marriage was pure and true, and that your bastard of a husband was your Prince Charming, you were still a college-educated woman and had plenty of good sense to use.

When Touya started getting high every other day, you began stealing his money and putting it away when he wasn't looking.

Small amounts here and there that you passed off with simple excuses that Touya found to be believable. No way his dumb little housewife would ever think to steal from him.

How wrong he was.

You had accumulated a good amount over the last three years, but when you first tried to leave Touya, he became suspicious of you, thus limiting your access to the money by taking your name off the accounts and giving you a weekly allowance.

How stupid of him.

You took a portion of that money and stored it away every month, in case you ever needed it. In case you finally got the courage to leave Touya and never look back.

The day had finally come.

Pulling up to your sister-in-law's house, you waited for her to come to the door. Looking down at your Gucci slides, you felt embarrassed about the situation that had just occurred.

"Y/n! What are you doing here? What's happened?"

With the look on your face, she immediately knew that something terrible had happened and that her elder brother was more than likely the cause of it.

She moved aside so you could come inside. You sat on her couch and put your hands in your lap.

After swallowing down the lump in your throat, you began to speak.

"Touya…he, um, he locked me out of the house."

"HE WHAT?!"

You had to cover your ears slightly from the sheer volume of her exasperated voice.

"Yeah. We got into an argument and he tossed me out onto my ass like Jazz from The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air."

Fuyumi didn't laugh at your joke; instead, she gave you a look of sympathy.

"Y/n…I'm sorry you had to go through that…" Her voice began to crack and you gave her a questioning gaze.

"Was he…?" She couldn't even finish the question.

You immediately understood and nodded.

"Yes. He was high."

"And where was Takuya?"

"He's at school."

A sigh of relief from the white-haired woman. "Thank the heavens."

Fuyumi moved from her spot on the opposite couch to come over and give you a tight hug. You sank into her warm embrace and hugged her back, more tears bubbling up as feelings of shame, stupidity, and anger came to the surface.

"It's okay, Y/n. It's all going to be okay. I feel like this is my fault. I should have tried harder to get you to leave Touya. I should have-"

You stopped her from talking by pulling away from the hug and giving her a small glare.

"Don't you dare try to blame yourself for his actions. He's a grown ass man, yet he acts like a child. Don't worry, Fuyumi. This time I'm done with him for good. It's time for me to move along in my life with my child and leave Touya's miserable ass behind. I tried everything to help him and all he did was treat me like shit for five years."

Fuyumi was a bit stunned to hear you speak with so much initiative, but she nodded, nonetheless.

"If you need anything, anything at all, don't hesitate to call me or Natsu. We want what's best for you and Takuya. Always."

—-

After talking with Fuyumi for a little while longer, she ended up calling Natsuo over, who works as a mechanic.

With a little trial and error, he managed to remove the tracker from your car. Touya had hidden it meticulously, but he was no match for Natsuo's years of experience with machinery.

You finally bid your brother-in-law and sister-in-law goodbye so you could go and speak to your lawyer before picking up Takuya from school.

—-

I can't get to work on time

Can't believe the words to him I just said

Who the hell argue and fight

Like dogs at six in the morning?

I know it's gonna be some more shit tonight (oooh)

Our pastor's calling, telling me I done went too far,

And I'm sitting round town and my friends can't recognize me

Cause I took a chance on love

It's like, I'm dying (ooo dying)

For you, I gave my heart

And turned my back against the world

Because I was your girl, girl, girl

I done damn near lost my mama

I done been through so much drama

I done turned into the woman I never thought I'd be

I'm ready to sign them papers, papers

—-

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Todoroki, but the prenup that you signed is very much valid. According to this, he really doesn't have to give you anything."

You blew out a frustrated breath. How could you have been such a fool? If Touya wanted to call the wedding off because you wouldn't sign, you should have just let him.

It would have saved you a world of heartache and headache, that's for sure.

"So, there's absolutely nothing that I can do?" You asked the well-dressed man in front of you.

You fiddled with the rose gold, 5-carat diamond aquamarine pear-shaped ring set on your left ring finger.

“What about our son? Did he say anything about providing for him?”

The brunette man pushed his glasses from the bridge of his nose up to his eyes.

“Despite his trying to implement a clause in which he wouldn’t have to pay child support since the child was conceived outside of the marriage, as the child’s biological father he’s still legally responsible for providing for Takuya. Though he could contest his paternity and ask for a DNA test.” He set the paper on the desk and looked at you.

“That slimy bastard…he did everything in his power to make sure that I’d never try to leave him. He’s sick….”

“Again, I’m very sorry, Mrs. Todoroki. I wish that there was more that I could tell you.”

“I just can’t believe this…Touya had all of this planned from the very start. He came to me in a moment where he knew I couldn’t refuse him. He knew that I needed to lean on him at that time and he took advantage of me.”

“What do you mean by 'took advantage of you'?” The man in front of you sat up straighter in his chair, slightly leaning his body towards you.

“Well, I never expected that Touya would ask me to sign a prenup. He never made it a priority to discuss how we’d do finances; he just always said that he’d take care of me. Which is why it was such a shock that he made me sign the prenup minutes before I was about to walk down the aisle to marry him.”

“He asked you to sign a prenup minutes before your wedding? He coerced you and didn’t even give you time to seek your own legal consultation. I’m glad you told me this, Mrs. Todoroki; this changes everything.”

Could this be it? Could this finally be your way out of this marriage?

“And that’s not all! I was pregnant with Takuya at the time and my hormones were all over the place. My aunt…she’d been very sick as well, and it was just an overall bad time for me. I w-wasn’t thinking straight…I-I just…I just wanted someone to be there for me. I didn’t want Touya to call off the wedding.”

You cursed yourself for crying over this again, but speaking about it out in the open really made you realize how badly Touya had manipulated you. From the very beginning of the relationship he tried to break you down and make you weak for him, and you let him. Your lawyer handed you some tissue from the box on the desk.

No more weakness. No more vulnerability. It was time to be strong; you had a child to raise and he needed his mother.

It was time to fight for what was rightfully owed to both of you.

“Coercion and signature under duress; oh, he’s done for. I’ll make some calls to get this in front of the judge as soon as possible. Don’t worry, Mrs. Todoroki, I’ll handle everything from here.”

—-

You left the law office with a massive weight lifted off of your heart.

Takuya's private school was only a few minutes away if you took the interstate, so, after picking him up, you'd probably just go back to Fuyumi's house for the night.

"God, I hate this bend in the road, it makes me feel like I'm going to fall off into a ditch." You grimaced while holding the steering wheel carefully.

When you were almost around the corner, a black SUV flew past you at top speed and caused your car to lose control and spin in circles several times before crashing into oncoming traffic.

—-

You had to have blacked out from the impact - were you dead?

No, your hearing was still intact. You could hear something in the distance: footsteps.

Your head was bent at an odd angle and you could feel the blood dripping down your forehead.

"Well, would you look at my little broken doll, all bent out of shape. It's a miracle you aren't dead, huh? That was a nasty accident you had."

With you not being able to turn your neck to the sound of his voice, Touya had to step into your line of sight. He looked down into your eyes, his own turquoise ones shining with mirth. They seemed darker, more sinister.

Then it dawned on you.

This wasn't Touya.

It was Dabi.

"W-w-what's wrong…with you…? You're…. you're insane…"

That was the final thing you said before slipping into unconsciousness.

—-

Dabi just watched your unmoving form with an evil grin plastered across his face. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a pack of cigarettes, and lit one.

With his free hand, he reached out to stroke your face while his eyes glowed.

"I know you want, me baby. I think I want you, too. I'm here to save you, girl. Come be in Shady's world. I wanna grow together, let's let our love unfurl. You know you want me, baby. You know I want you, too. They call me Superman, I'm here to rescue you."

With a flick of his wrist, he threw the cigarette down and the entire car caught on fire.

—-

You want what you can't have

Ooo, girl, that's too damn bad

Don't touch what you can't grab

End up with two back hands

Girl you just blew your chance

Don't mean to ruin your plans

—-

911, what's your emergency?

"Yes, my wife has been in a terrible car accident! Her car caught on fire and she was trapped inside. I-I pulled her out, but she's unconscious and I think her neck might be broken!

Okay sir, I'm going to need you to get her to a safe location and wait for help to arrive. Avoid moving her anymore and try to keep her neck supported.

"O-okay."

—-

Three Months Later

You ended up with three severed vertebrae in your neck. The doctors still don't know how you didn't end up paralyzed or dead, but at this point it must have just been a miracle from God.

Touya brought you to the hospital under the guise of the distraught husband and no one seemed to suspect anything.

Except for Natsuo, Fuyumi, and your lawyers.

Your family was just grateful that you were alive and didn't think to question how the accident may have occurred, though Touya didn't get away completely scot-free.

Your lawyer was the number one accusatory figure when your divorce case went to court. He argued that Touya had been following you, tracking your phone, and was angry that you were finally filing for divorce from him.

That you were going to actually leave him this time.

Touya had an amazing defense lawyer that continued to play him up as the distraught husband; Touya knew what he was doing when he decided to stay at the scene of the accident and "help" you. Your other lawyers and Touya's went toe to toe in the courtroom for days.

—

Caroline, Caroline

See Caroline, all the guys would say

She's mighty fine, mighty fine

But mighty fine only got you somewhere half the time

And the other half either got you

Cussed out or coming up short

—-

The jury was at a deadlock.

It wasn't an easy fight. More days in the courtroom with you sitting there in a neck brace, your body bandaged beneath your clothes from the burns you sustained in the fire.

A miracle that you were even alive.

Finally, after two weeks of court, Touya was convicted of attempted murder.

His defense lawyer tried to go for an insanity plea which was supported by him staying at the accident scene and bringing you to the hospital afterwards.

The prosecutor argued that Touya, though aware of his mental illness, never sought the proper help and continued to mentally and emotionally torture and abuse his wife.

These claims were supported by Natsuo and Fuyumi, who both agreed to testify on your behalf since you couldn't speak up for yourself due to spousal privilege.

More deliberation, more waiting.

At last, there was a breakthrough.

The insanity plea fell through and Touya finally decided to just plead guilty.

—-

Regardless, we don't want to get involved with all them lawyers

And judges, just to hold grudges in the courtroom

I wanna see your support bra, not support you

—-

He was called to the witness stand, where he told all the grueling, gritty details of the past five years of your marriage. As much as he didn't want to let you go, he just couldn't bring himself to drag this battle out any farther. After hearing his testimony, the jury found him guilty and he was sentenced to fifteen years to life in prison.

So now, here you are, sitting in front of the man that you once loved with all of your heart.

Dressed in an orange jumpsuit, wrists and ankles shackled, Touya regarded you with a downtrodden expression.

"Y/n… I'm sorry for everything that I put you through. I just want you to know one thing: I'll always love you and my son."

With a dry chuckle, you shook your head.

"I don't think you know the meaning of the word love, Touya."

You pushed the divorce papers with your wedding rings situated on top of them towards him and nodded up at the guard standing behind him.

The elder man unlocked Touya's wrist cuffs so the inmate could sign his name where required. He didn't even read over it.

The shackles went back on immediately, and, with one last look, the guard escorted Touya out of the room and back to his cell.

—-

The sunshine was bright on your face as you walked out of the prison. A funny thought crossed your mind and caused you to giggle out loud.

For years, you'd felt like a prisoner under Touya's watchful gaze.

Oh how the tables have turned.

—-

I know you like to think your shit don't stank

But lean a little bit closer, see

Roses really smell like booo-booo-ooo

Yeah, roses really smell like booo-booo-ooo

—

a/n: i feel like i was starting to drag this out, so I just had to hurry up and end it 💀 i still think it came out pretty good though! i had to do a lot of research for the legal part and i still don't think it's all correct, but oh well! i ain't no damn lawyer/judge!😂

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roodles03 · 10 months

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I did that challenge that's been going around

Originally, this was more of an ironic idea. Like "lol my style is so similar to the TOH style the literal only difference will be the shading" but as I was drawing the show-accurate one I realized there were serveal subtle things I draw differently then the cannon style.

Most notably the mouth and the ears. I don't really know how to explain the mouth, I had more of a curve to open mouths then the show does. While the ears are pretty obvious. I draw them much more round.

I also draw the eyes differently. Most notable is the iris eyelights. Unless I'm going for emotion, I layer the white eyelight below the pupil. The show layers it above the pupil. I do this for two reasons. 1. I feel like it's easier to see the pupil this way. 2. It's just easier to draw it like this. I also ALWAYS put the white heighlight in the upper left corner, while the colored highlight is to the lower right. No matter what direction characters are facing.The show swaps the highlight's positions depending on which way the characters are facing. The eye shape is only different because I pushed Hunter's expression to be happier.

Most of the facial differences can be pointed to me pushing the emotion more. I also made Hunter lean in a little more to show he was interested to talking to Luz. (Art Tip: When drawing expressions, it's not all about the face, you have to take into account the body language, too!)

I can't mention every subtle difference, or we'll be here forever, but one last notable thing I'll mention is line variation. The lines for Hunter's mouth, ear holes, ear notch, eye/eyebag winkles, scar, hand wrinkle, strap buttons, and vest buttons are all 1 px size smaller then the rest of the lines on my piece. This is a personal stylistic choice that I've done since my SU days, and I just think looks better then if I made all the lines the same px size.

I think the main difference between my style and the TOH style is my style is rounder, more expressive and I shade differently.

Also here's the screenshot

#the owl house #the owl house hunter #the owl house fanart #the owl house fan art #hunter the owl house #hunter toh #toh hunter #hunter park #hunter deamonne #hunter noceda #hunter wittebane #hunter the golden guard #the golden guard #hunting palisman #hunting palismen #draw fanart of a character #drawing challenge

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definitelynotshouting · 7 months

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so a while ago i had planned to rewrite my fic everything i loved and feared for stylistic purposes, but ended up deciding to leave it as is and never went through with that beyond the first scene. Since i dont plan on doing anything else with this, here is the scene i did rewrite!! Hope you guys like it :]

CWs: graphic violence, graphic injury, suicide, temporary major character death

Love, Scar finds, is the exact shade of blood in the water.

A thin line of it beads from his shoulder down to his wrist, clouding as it sluices past the surface tension of the pond he stands in. Inky ribbons trail from each drop; they ripple outward to form a slinking barrier between him and the honed edge of Grian's sword, coiling thin and wispy around their ankles. Love is what saturates the smears of that diamond blade, the tattered edges of Grian's sweater, the final life pulsing bright and sacred in Scar's chest; love is the heady fog billowing through his veins as he kneels, one bare knee sinking into the silt, and bows his head to the oncoming storm.

But Grian's scarlet eyes, scorching and incensed, eclipse it all.

They pulse with the brazen fire of a solar prominence; the color has molded to his irises, slotting into place with such clean precision that it hemorrhages over Scar's memories, staining the echo-impression of Grian's gaze. Gorgeous is too pale a word to raise against the righteous, trembling fury he vibrates with now. The urge to reach past that diamond line, reel Grian in by the collar, and kiss him until nothing remains of them except one tangled corpse is a siren's song that howls inside Scar's chest.

Here, lying in the fractures of his calculated betrayal, the die is cast, and Scar comes out smiling.

"You can kill me," he says. The syllables tangle in his throat, too disjointed with the rolling, frothing tension boiling inside him. "Grian. You can kill me.”

Above him, an avenging angel falters. Grian's sword, still streaked with the proof of Scar's adoration, lowers by a single fraction. "What? No—"

“For everything you did to me,” Scar continues past him, lungs shivering with the cost of this victory, “to keep me alive this long— you may slay me, and take the enchanter.”

Gold flakes splay across the surface of the pond, scintillating outward as Scar bends at the waist; water brushes his forehead in cool benediction, in cruel, unrelenting curse. This baptism is Scar's holy scourge: Grian will win. It is both the most and least Scar can do for him.

When Grian speaks, his voice is small. “No— no, I can’t. I literally can’t. Scar—”

"Do it," Scar urges into the water. Between scattered refractions his own face peers back at him, a wavering mirror to manic triumph— all the love in the world has led to this crescendoing melody in his gut: the braying war horns, the bark of crashing cymbals, the bellow of ancient pipes. Strung at the seams within this orchestra, he teeters with bated breath on the edge of one final encore.

Instead, all that reigns around them is miserable silence.

A sharp inhale, cracking through the clearing with firework-precision. "I'm not—" Grian starts, and chokes on it, the words stumbling to an abrupt halt in his throat. Scar's neck snaps up; Grian's sword-grip has loosened, fingers lax around the hilt as his free hand flinches to one temple. It hovers there, pale and trembling, his eyes trained on the middle-distance.

A beat. Clarity is a stark, cold glow unspooling in Grian's pupils. “The spectators want a fight,” he says. His voice rings hollow.

Scar gentles his in turn, snaking it around Grian's shoulders with careful, insistent pressure. “It’s okay, G," he breathes. "You can kill me. You can be the winner.”

Grian's expression is a severed nerve, flayed open to the rising sun. Around them, liquid honey dribbles between boughs, landing dizzy and sincere at their feet. They brush the tips of Grian's hair, set fire to the thin, damp strands curling around his ears. Checkmate is the process of capturing your opponent's king with no hope of escape; shadowed in Grian's glowing silhouette, Scar bows, and offers his defeat with both hands self-shackled.

Check, and mate.

Slow— so slow he can track each individual movement— Grian shakes his head. A muscle jumps in his jaw. “Scar, they want blood." New waves bloom out from his shaking stance; adrenaline has retracted its claws, leaving nothing but the thin garrote between passion, violence, and mourning.

Scar is shaking as well. Even in this, they are together.

Grian's lips twist in an abrupt, fragile smile. "Scar," he says, sword once again rising in its clean, prismatic arc. Scar tracks the way light sparkles off it, throwing pale blue echoes against the trunks of nearby trees. "No matter what happens, we can claim this as a double victory. Right?”

The words are a cool balm against fevered skin. Scar sinks into them, eyes drifting shut; even now, through the mounting, cacophonic thrum in his veins, past the shivering gooseflesh of soaked skin, to look Grian in the eyes when he kills him would be blasphemy. "Yeah," he breathes, bracing for the blow, the diamond cut against his carotid. "We're good."

Air whistles with the surge of a starving blade—

— and the sharp, heavy schlck of pierced flesh not his own reverberates through the clearing instead. Grian's choked-off cry ends in an ugly, gurgling yelp; Scar's eyes fly open just in time for Grian's knees to meet the water, scattering a thousand, dazzling droplets in every direction.

Between Grian's hands is the glittering diamond of his own sword, buried inches at an upward angle into the soft meat above his belly. Rivulets of blood bubble from cuts in his palms where they clench halfway up that razor edge; even as dark stains spread to saturate his sweater, Grian's lips peel back in a feral snarl, and he shoves the wobbling blade in deeper.

"You—" Grian's gasps are ragged, hands slipping along the edges as the sword sinks another wet, squelching inch— "win, Scar. You win."

And with the same, ponderous sway of a toppling tower, Grian collapses into the bloody water.

Hazy exultation cleaves itself from Scar's mind in one savage swoop, submerging his entire body in ice. If he screams, the sound fails to breach his ears– one moment he's kneeling, dumb and shell-shocked, and the next he's scrabbling forward on hands and knees through the shallows between them, catching Grian by the arm before his head can plunge below water.

Scar hauls him sideways into his arms. A strangled noise punches out of Grian in response— the high, staticked whine of a wounded animal, shivering through Scar's chest. The blade buried in his gut jars with the motion, carving another, ragged line into the pallid flesh beneath. Fresh copper blooms in a cloud around them, swelling in Scar's nose.

“Grian— Grian, no." Scar's hand stretches of its own volition, hovering over the keen edges of Grian's sword. Halts just shy of ripping it back out— that will only kill him faster. "Wait, wait, wait— no. No, no, no, no, no. Grian.”

This isn't right— the bright, earnest rays of the sun have missed their mark, slipping past Scar's death to gild Grian in stunning, flagrant gold. “What are you doing?” he chokes, heart a helpless stutter in the back of his throat.

Grian was meant to win. Not this.

Never this.

“They never said what kind of blood,” Grian rasps, lips wobbling. Each breath is a bubbling wheeze as he struggles for air. “I can’t— I couldn’t, Scar. I couldn’t kill you.” When he coughs, his stomach convulses; Grian's voice cuts off into a breathless scream before falling back into muted pants. Eyes squeezed shut, Grian grits out: "Sorry."

Scar's fingers catch in the soaked strands of Grian's hair, petting it down with clumsy, panicked motions. “No you’re not,” he whispers. Beneath his chest an abscessed, answering wound unravels, howling in tune to Grian's shallow gasps. “You did that on purpose. Grian, you were supposed to win.”

Every card had been folded for this. Each die weighed in the well of his palm, every trick tugged out from beneath his sleeve; a barren world with no one in it isn't a world Scar can survive, and he'd pieced that together between sheets and shared pulses, windswept sky and sunburnt sand. Maybe it had been selfish… but Scar is selfish— with the last, grasping selfishness of a man devoted, his loyalty a warm, gushing sacrifice caught between grit teeth.

“You weren’t supposed to die,” Scar wails, shifting until his spine bows, forehead brushing Grian's. Stocky fingers spasm under his own; Grian's short breaths puff against the chapped skin of his lips, fanning over his cheeks. “Grian— how could you?”

Beneath him, Grian's lips twist in a wry grin. This close, Scar can make out the faded remnants of freckles marching across his face; counting them had always been a fantasy. Now he'll never have the chance. “Guess I’m just not cut out to be a winner,” Grian murmurs, winces, and drags one bloodied hand up to rest against Scar's jaw.

He doesn't bother saying I love you. Instead, he guides Scar to close the gap between them, fingers fumbling at the nape of Scar's neck. Grian's lips are bitten raw, trembling as he capture Scar's own, and for a moment they are two jagged breaths; the slide of salt on Scar's tongue; copper-stained fingers falling limp–

Scar bolts upright, choking on his own anguished scream.

#scarian #goodtimeswithscar #grian #3rd life #trafficshipping #traffic series #mcyt #shouting speaks #WEEEE ALL 1.5K OF IT #gods. fun fact grian was aiming for his inferior vena cava here and missed #fuckin. christ <- has medical adjacent work background #hope u guys enjoy this. i should write more death scenes i think it would fix me (make me worse)#txt

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sabonell · 6 months

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san x male reader

tags and summary:

ateez, drabble, military san, doctor reader, male reader as in he/him pronouns are used but other than slightly longer hair there is no physical description of y/n, this is fiction we do not like the military irl, dialogue heavy because my imagination is too vivid, physical examination gone wrong gone sexual, just kidding they just flirt, author knows way too much about military, health care and medical terms, but not enough about the english language, no beta we die like my dream of a gay teenage romance, san turned out way less cocky and teasing than i anticipated, this was basically just my day dream all day at work, the lower case is intentional and a stylistic choice and you’ll have to pry it from my cold dead hands

heavily inspired by: this but female reader makes me cry so yeah here’s my ‘rendition’

“well then shall we start your exam?”

san just nodded looking at his doctor. he had been transferred here just a month ago and ever since then san has tried making his professional facade crack every chance he got.

“come on you know the drill. sit down.” y/n ordered the soldier and he sat on the bench bed. “ok just look at my finger and i’ll shine the light into your eyes” san stared right past y/n’s finger into his concentrated eyes. “great your pupils are bilaterally isocor” he put the little diagnostic lamp back into his white coat and pulled a wooden stick from one of the cabinets. san already knowing what comes next expectantly opened his mouth and pushed his tongue out before y/n could even turn back to him. “ok-“ he started but stopped at the picture in front of him. shrugging his shoulders he placed the wooden stick on sans tongue while taking out the diagnostic lamp again and shining into his oral cavity. “and-“ “ahhhhh” finished san for him. y/n praised him and his cooperation with a light chuckle.

san just continued staring at him while he shone the light around his mouth. he straightened his back with an amused “hm” whilst throwing the stick in the trash. “hm?” asked san and y/n answered with a “what?”. “you made a ‘hm’ sound. what was that for?” the other pretended to think, even tapping his index finger to his chin but never actually touching skin “have you ever heard that dentists can see bruises in your mouth after certain activities?” and with that a slight blush spread across sans nose and cheeks, all over his strong features down to his neck but he just shook his head no trying to remain at least some composure.

his doctor shrugged with a slight smile getting his stethoscope. “that’s ok i was never too keen on the mouth and it’s inhabitants anyway.” “teeth?” y/n cocked his head to the side asking back. “you mean teeth? your mouth inhabitants?” san emphasised with air quotes. “yeah those too.” y/n replied while motioning the soldier to pull his shirt up.

“you know” san stared a bit cautiously “it would be easier if i just took it off completely”. “sure it would be if you’re not uncomfortable” y/n stared at him blinking owlishly and with that he lifted his white tshirt over his head holding it bunched up in his lap. “careful cold” his doctor just said before placing the stethoscope on his upper left chest. “and breathe in” san took a deep breath in “and out” at the command he let it out again. “good” y/n said, switching to his right side. “and again” he asked softy while san tried to focus anywhere but the others eyes this time and just settled for an imaginary point on the wall while his doctor continued the auscultation of his lung hoping that it wasn’t possible to hear how his heart was pounding.

“sounds great” the missing touch on his skin pulled san from his starting daydream, following his doctors instructions further he laid down on his back settling for staring up at the ceiling this time the tshirt now clutched in his left hand next to the wall. “tell me if it hurts yeah?” he started expertly pressing on his abdominal right upper quadrant. “stop this” he ordered the soldier taking his eyes of his stomach. meeting his eyes now san tried to hide a smirk asking “stop what?” y/n stopped touching his stomach, which made san swallow down a whine, straightening up and brushing his hair out of his eyes to look at him more clearly. “stop trying to impress me by flexing your muscles. it messes with the exam.” san cocked an eyebrow. “who says im flexing my muscles? this is them in their natural state.” pointing his gloved finger accusingly at the soldier “stop lying to your doctor. it’s not working. i know what a flexed muscle feels like soldier. besides there really is no need to try and impress me.”

“why?” san asked “did i do it already?” fighting back the smile that threatened to appear on his face the doctor just answered “one, yes but most importantly, you really shouldn’t need my approval to know that you’re in great physical shape. we both know this examination is purely a formality of bureaucracy.” y/n paused and turned away from sans eyes to face his stomach again “and now stop flexing and let me finish this.” happy with that answer and a smile plastered over his face san relaxed his muscles and just focused on his doctors touch.

“good, well done.” he praised him ��now i just need to palpate the rest of your body. again just tell me when it hurts.” and with that he started at his wide shoulders applying light pressure continuing down his rips and to his hips. “now spread your legs” “take me out to dinner first” san chuckled but obeyed while y/n just playfully rolled his eyes at him, carrying on with each leg. “no pain at all?” san denied the question by shaking his head slightly. satisfied with this his doctor nodded and positioned himself at the soldiers feet.

with crossed armes he applied light pressure on sans right foot. “push back every time i push” he ordered. san pushed his right food back slightly and switched to his left when y/n did as well, ending with pushing them both at the same time.

“ok great you can sit back up” y/n said while taking of his blue gloves revealing another white pair underneath.

“you wear two pairs of gloves?” san asked while watching his doctor dispose of the blue pair.

“sometimes, yes” he nodded “it’s more convenient and you can tell if one rips, which is more important during surgery but it just became a habit”

standing in front of him again and crossing his arms y/n took each of sans hands into his own testing his grip strength the same as he did with his feet.

“ok and squeeze right” he waited for the pressure “good and left” after a short moment he continued “and now both” to which san squeezed both of his doctors hands while locking eyes with him.

“good” y/n breathed out lightly “you can let go now” he added softly with a smile. but san really didn’t want to let go of his doctors hands right now. or ever.

so he asked “what if i don’t want to?” slightly furrowing his eyebrows causing y/n to slight stumble over his next words “i still need to test your reflexes san”

he slowly let go of his hands while dropping his head. “oww now don’t start looking like a kicked puppy. i also still need to write this all down and hand it in. otherwise they’ll take you off your next mission and what would your team do without you now huh?”

san nodded his head in defeat. his doctor was right. this was nothing more than an exam to determine if he was physically capable of being send overseas to kill some innocent civilians. purely a formality.

had zero idea how to start nor how to end this. it’s fully self indulgent like absolutely every thing i write. hopefully you still enjoyed and have a great day loves🫶🏻🫶🏻

#choi san #fanfic #ateez #x male reader #x m!reader #choi san x male reader #ateez x male reader #gay #technically it’s #x trans male reader #but it’s not mentioned #but like this is technically just san x me and im a trans guy so yeah there’s that

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itsdefinitely · 5 months

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Definitely, can you pretty please go into depth about the MC outfits because I would LOVE to hear that /gen

WOOHOO!! YIPPEE!! DANCING AROUND MY LITTLE CORNER FULL OF RED TAPE AND MADNESS!!

gonna start in no particular order

TINKY COSTUME my beloved and beloathed (the colors fucked me up). to be honest most of it is pretty obvious. the maze design on the sleeves and the box on the shirt is meant to represent the bastard's box, but i imagine that box glowing in the game. for important plot or something. i just want the box to glow. the pants are pretty much directly because i wanted to give the MC boots (i didn't draw shoes because hell if i was gonna design six good looking pairs of shoes) and they fit in with the pattern on the sleeves + the overall steampunk-ish vibe tinky has. the outfit itself wasn't really steampunky or yellow, but these outfits were made to compliment the lord, so rather than two engineers, it's like a mad scientist and his loyal lab rat. so something that would be easy to move around in

and now is a good a time as any to mention this. all of the outfits were made with the CoTSC designing them in mind, which is why they look all different, because i feel like the church has different views on how each lord wants to be treated. like they're pretty sure nibbly is good with things being more modern, but wiggly and pokey would be more "traditional" i guess. the church is just convinced some of them need to be held to the same standard they were given decades ago

anyway. blinky. the whole thing with the blindfold is that the CoTSC thinks you're not meant to look at blinky. blinky actually doesn't care whether you look at him or not, but there's this air of "you're not supposed to do this" when the MC tries to take the blindfold off. the eye button-thing was very fun for me to think about because i saw this button a while ago that was the pupil as the button, and i've been trying to incorporate it into something ever since. the pants are more of a stylistic choice than anything, so interpret it how you will

nibbly's costume was actually so fun for me to draw. i wanted it to look like something out of a fucked-up twisted willy wonka. the base for the top is really similar to tinky's but that's fine because they probably all steal something from the others. tinky's costume steals the specific yellow from blinky's costume, who steals the midsection part from pokey's costume, who steals the whole robe thing from wiggly's costume. also there's no cape or flowy thing for nibbly's costume because if the MC failed i don't think the CoTSC would want nibbly mad at them for having to chew extra fabric. also you need to be able to run without tripping over yourself if you try to escape him :]

pokey's costume was also really fun. obviously the grey, blue, and the cracks (it's also supoosed to be lightning!) are from his canon design, but the glasses are because i wanted something on the MC's face like the mask. it couldn't be another mask because pokey would get offended by that i think, and sunglasses are in the superstar/thespian ballpark. this costume also has the most stars on it (they go all the way around the hem of the robe) because of pokey's connection to space

finally, wiggly's costume. this is the one i think i have the most to talk about. first and foremost: there's a full black outfit under the robe. the fingerless gloves and pants are actually one jumpsuit, like president howard's suit in black friday. the collar thing is connected to the cape, which is split into six parts to be kind of like wiggly's tentacles. the fluffy collar is meant to be like the doll's fur. the whole thing is meant to keep the MC insulated, because i imagine the temperature drops whenever a lord is around, and especially when THE lord in black shows up. all of the sniggles (+ blinky) have fur, so they've probably had to adapt to the cold. now that i'm thinking about it, the CoTSC aren't that antagonistic in the costume design process. they cater to both the lords and the MC's needs, or whatever they think those needs are. like i said before, wiggly's costume is meant to be more "traditional", like the robes they wear. this costume is similar to what they'd put you in before sacrificing you

thanks for coming to my braindump

#also the full internet name made me do a double take. like. i thought i was in trouble for a second. i genuinely read it in my mom's voice #definite's ted talks #definitely an ask #the lords in black #t'noy karaxis #nibblenephim #blinklotep #pokotho #wiggog y'wrath #there's probably something i thought about while drawing but forgot to mention but whateverrrrrr it'll come back to me eventually #does this feel super pretentious to type out? yes #do i have to be neurodivergent about it or i'll die? also yes #long post

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artdivadej · 11 months

Text

Survivor’s Remorse (VIII)

Part Eight

NSFW| 18+

Part 9 | Part 10

Peeta's hand just barely manages to catch my wrist, tugging with every ounce of strength he possessed as the claws on my ankles threaten to pull me down to the pits.

"It's ok.... just, let me go!" I smile up at him somberly

"Never!" he snarls through his teeth

Gale and Katniss are with him now, all tugging me up as they yell not to give up. When my body flies through the lip of the cover, Peeta quickly tosses the Holo into the hole. It blows us all a good ten feet forward as guts and blood come flying out the sewer.

My head is in a million pieces. I push Peeta and the rest away from me.

"Go! Leave me here! I can hold them off. They want me! The mutt! Let them have me! I'm staying here where I belong! I'm their mutt!" I snarl unseeing to anything but my reflection in their disgusting eyeless faces as I yank at my hair wildly

Everything is crashing around me, atomic bombs going off in my head. It all burns. From head to toe the flames are swallowing me whole, just as they did to so many in 12.

Until I feel his lips on mine.

I feel whole with the sun overcoming any and all heat that tries to stand up against it, warming every atom of my being, swathing me in the scent of cinnamon and honey. His tongue slides between my lips as his searing kiss envelops me, drowning me with tenderness and passion. The flames are smothering. The bombs quieting. When I open my eyes, I see Peeta with a clarity I hadn't been able to after the Capitol had taken me. His honey toasted eyes hold mine with warmth and fear, the gold flecks pulsing and piercing through to a piece of me they’d attempted to tear from me.

"We promised" he gasps, his hand on my cheek, forehead against mine

"Stay with me" I breath against his lips

"Always"

Our promise. This I remember.

"Let's go" he nods before threading his fingers through mine and tugging me to my feet.

He sprints with me down the corridor. Gale and Pollux each have one of Finnick's arms over their shoulders as we dash forward, winding through the winding path that both Pollux and Cressida seem to have an internal map to.

The only thing keeping me anchored here was Peeta's hand in mine, his fingers squeezing every so often as he pulled me with him. Probably afraid I was still suicidal. Cressida checks the street and leads us to a safehouse as we wind down the intricate Capitol streets. It turns out to be a clothing store for fur and animal print clothing. The woman who opens the doors wears a large hood but, after some quick words about the rebellion and Plutarch from Cressida, she quickly ushers us inside.

When she removes her hood, I feel a deep compassion and kinship with her. So many body modifications to make her look like a tiger. She even had the stripes, eyes, teeth and metallic whiskers coming from both cheeks. This is what Snow wanted to do to me. This is what he could've done, had Haymitch and Cinna not interfered when and as often as they did. She looks me over with curiosity and I can't help but step up to her so we're barely 3 feet apart. Unlike everyone else that usually cowers at my proximity, she smiles. Peeta steps with me, still not trusting to let me go I suppose.

"I know you. You were a stylist for the games. Snow do this to you?"

"When he decided I wasn't committing to my name or pretty enough" she snarls, her pupils expanding with her rage

I tilt my head and smile widely at her, which she returns upon seeing my still bloody teeth.

"Me too. I'm on my way to kill him y'know"

"Sisters" she purrs

"Sisters" I purr back with a nod

She pats my cheek and then leads us to a trapdoor, handing Katniss a first aid duffle that she's thrown some cans of food into. I scrunch my nose at them but Tigress lets me know she understands my dietary needs and there's a few for me too. I give her a grateful smile and obediently let Peeta tug me down the stairs. When he finally releases my hand, we spur into action. Polluck and Finnick lay down a 12-foot by 6-foot mess of fur coats and throw rugs that Cressida dug out. Peeta lies Finnick down on it but he's fighting to keep his eyes open. I don't have much time.

"Take his top off. Every stitch of it" I order beginning to unsnap his vest

"What's wrong?" Gale asks as he and Peeta both start helping me, Pollux holding Finnick upright so we can do this more easily.

Shit. He's lost too much blood. When the shirt comes off, I see the bite has already turned a sickly purplish green.

I knew it.

"Please...don't shoot me. He'll die if you do" I sigh looking around the room "Pollux keep him up just like that"

They look baffled by my request not to be shot but nod their heads all the same. I climb onto Finnick's lap so I'm straddling him and gently tilt his head to the left so it rests against Gale's shoulder. It's hard to ignore the way Peeta's eyes darken, seeing me astride Finnick's hips, after the way he'd made me feel in that tunnel. Now his discomfort actually bothered me.

Unhooking my jaw so I could fully cover the bite, I sink my teeth into the punctures trying to ignore the way everyone around me jumps and moves closer, fighting the urge to rip me off of Finnick. I suck hard and can taste when it starts to fill my mouth along with some of Finnick's blood. I suck until my cheeks are full up. My eyes find one of the empty cans by Peeta's knee and I pick it up, spitting the venom into it before going for the second round. They all gasp as it sizzles inside the can, smelling of rubbing alcohol and acid.

I have to empty my mouth 2 more times before I can taste that his blood is clean again. Finnick has been whimpering in pain and trying to wiggle from beneath me in his sleep, so I wrap my arms around him and grab his shoulders to keep myself anchored. I make sure I fill my mouth with my antivenom before I sink my teeth into his shoulder again. I push what's in my mouth onto the surface and with my teeth I push some straight to his bloodstream. There's an unfamiliar pulsing in my canines but it's not painful. I'm not sure how I know, I just do, that he's clean.

Once satisfied with my work, I let go of his shoulders with a huff of exhaustion, sitting back fully on his lap trying to focus my vision. Peeta looks as if he's swallowed everything that I just sucked out of Finnick. His brows are drawn tight, his plump bottom lip jutted out in distaste as he clenches his jaw.

Ok, I didn't know just how much that would take out of me. I'm not done yet though. The bite is now just an angry red. I know off some strange instinct to lick the wound to speed up the healing process. When I'm done, I gesture to Pollux that he can lay Finnick back down but I don't get off of him immediately. Peeta has been visibly uncomfortable the entire time and it was about to get weirder.

"Katniss, you're next" I huff wiping the sweat from my forehead, one trembling hand now resting on Finnick's chest to keep me upright.

"It's just a scratch, I'm fine. You've done enough" she shakes her head pulling her left forearm into her chest

"Don't worry, I don't have to bite you too. I just need to suck the venom out. Unless, you don't want to keep the arm" I explain with a playful chomp of my teeth that make them clack loudly

"Can it wait? You look like you're about to pass out" Cressida sighs putting her hand to my rapidly warming forehead

"It can't. They're imperfects. My venom and anti-venom trumps theirs. I'm the mutt 2.0. The perfect version. Only got the best of the best" I grin showing my bloody teeth again to accentuate my point

"You're not a mutt" Katniss shakes her head sitting beside Peeta and offering out her arm to me" And I trust you. It's like Cress said, it's just that you've done a lot tonight. Your body will give out soon. We're worried"

"Luckily for you, adrenaline and I are besties"

Cressida hands me a water. I use it to rinse my mouth before trying to turn to Katniss, only to find I'm still glued to Finnick's hips. I don't have the energy to get up and help Katniss.

Fuck.

I turn my face to Peeta's and somehow, he understands what I want without a word, eagerly pulling me off of Finnick. I'm now nestled between Peeta's bent knees, my back leaning against his right that's propped up firmly for support, both of his forearms resting on his knees. He's keeping his hands in my line of sight and I feel gratitude sweep through my frame. Was he always this attentive to my needs?

Katniss places her forearm into my reaching hands and I begin the suction method again. It's much faster since their claw venom is pretty low grade. As I lick her arm to slather the wound in my antivenom, I try my best not to think about how fuckin weird this must look. When I'm finished, I slump back against Peeta, working hard to get my vision to stop swimming.

He's so sturdy.

"Not so useless after all I guess" I snort with a weak smile

"I have no idea how we would have saved them if you weren't here" Gale breathes in awe

I was so dizzy. I'd only had to do that one time before and not half as much back then. I really hoped Peeta didn't let me fall onto my face. If I'd never been vulnerable around him before, I certainly had no choice but to be now. My heart was racing and I wasn't sure if I liked his heat warming me from the inside out right now. Honestly, trying to process the fact that I'm still here because he'd refused to let me go was enough to drain me.

God I was so tired.

"Get some sleep kiddo" Cressida grins at me with a pat to my cheek

"Wait!"

Peeta looks down at me and I'm genuinely surprised his proximity doesn't bother me in the slightest as his jaw brushes my hair.

"Chain me back up first" I huff fighting my drooping lids as I gesture toward the beam at the bottom of the stairs.

"No"

It's only one word but everyone feels the command in it as his body hardens around me. I get that I just helped, but I still felt that programming to sink my teeth into something tickling the back of my consciousness. Yes, his warmth brought me comfort and security. Right now. But that could be just because I'm exhausted. What about when I had energy?

"Peeta please. I still feel that weird mutt animosity from back in the tunnel. I'm tired now but...I don't know about when I wake up" I plead as my voice cracks

Katniss and Cressida exchange a look before making another pallet big enough for the three of us over by the stairs. Peeta waits patiently for them to gesture him over, clearly intending to carry me since I had no strength left in my limbs. I'm practically asleep by that point, but him rising with me still in his arms, reminds me again just how strong he really is behind those deceptive boyish good looks. He lightly eases me down onto the soft furs and brushes my sweaty bang out of my face, leaving a tender kiss to my forehead that should have bothered me, as he just watches me for a moment. I can't help but offer a weak but grateful smile.

I miss his warmth right away.

Cressida sighs despondently but does as I ask and loops my restraint around the pole above my head.

"Get some rest. We'll be here"

"And I'll be right over there. Call for me if you need me" Peeta smiles trailing his fingers down my cheek

I nod and fall asleep the moment my eyes close.

I awake with a start 2 hours later, covered in sweat and panting fearfully. It's Katniss' hand I feel running through my hair as she faces me on the pallet, trying to soothe my night terrors. Primrose told me this was a specialty of hers and I instantly understand it. It calms my racing heart relatively quickly.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"No. I'll talk about anything else though" I sigh pulling myself into a sitting position where Katniss happily undoes the restraints around the beam so I can sit with my hands in my lap.

My stomach grumbles and this is when Cressida sits up, handing me a can of pork cuts she'd apparently saved for me. I happily take it and start to pull the chunks out to scarf the can down. I was ravenous after the healing bites.

"So... since it's just us girls" Cressida starts with an uncharacteristically childlike mischief in her voice

I lower the can and peek over to the boy's pallet in a panic. They're all fast asleep, surrounding Finnick to keep him warm and stable so he doesn't agitate his wounds. When I meet her inquisitive gaze again, I quirk a brow at her, wondering what she'd want to possibly talk about with just the girls.

"I heard a little...rumor about one of your breakfasts"

My eyes dart to Katniss and I put my can down, despite how badly I want to finish it.

"About that. Katniss, I'm sorry. I really didn't mean what I said. I was," I juggle what the right word for it was. Her smoky grey meets my bright silver with interest. No point in lying now. To them or myself "Jealous. It wasn't fair to say those things to you. Especially in front of everyone"

I want to look away but I don't want to seem disingenuous so I hold her steady gaze. At first, she says nothing until she can't help the smirk on her lips as she tries not to flat out laugh. Well damn. Was it that pathetic?

"I get it. I was irritated at the time but I knew not to take it personal" She smiles "Jealous huh? Of what?"

Cressida scooches closer and cups her cheeks while grinning at us. I've never hung out with a group of girls so close to my age. Is...is this what a sleepover was like? Was this girl talk? Might as well enjoy it.

"How close you two were. I mean, I was scared of him but...I wanted him too. Does that make sense?"

"It does to me" she shrugs

"Me too" Cressida agrees opening a can of her own where the smell of peaches irritates me momentarily

"Was what you said about the train true?"

"I thought it was" I shrug picking up another piece of ham then freezing as I realize all of it wasn't a lie. "Well, some of it was"

"This was my question!" Cressida giggles wiggling her hips

"What was?" I ask with a raised brow

"Your guards. Flira is my cousin. She told me some of what you said. Is it true, about Peeta?" her voice lowers a little as she sneaks a peek over her shoulder to make sure the boys are still sleeping

"Is what true?" I chuckle downing the rest of the can and picking up a water as I tried to remember all the things I claimed he said or did.

Not exactly an easy chore since I was still trying to figure out what memories actually belonged to me.

"Is he really hung?" she whispers

I can't help but choke on my water as I catch her and Katniss both inspecting my face inquisitively. Oh! They're both curious. I sneak another glimpse over at Peeta, grateful he's still asleep, or this would be mortifying. The steady rise and fall of his chest is strangely hypnotic and I watch it for a minute as I consider what to divulge. I tear my eyes away before I'm trapped and look back to the eager girls.

"Before I answer, I'd like to throw in that we've never done...it. I thought so, but that was Mean Peeta"

"What do you mean?"

"I have memories of Peeta and I...you know. But he helped me see a few days ago that it wasn't real. They were Capitol memories. What I do remember...he's sweet. Patient. Gentle. Kind. Affectionate" I explain further. I never really had to explain that there were two Peeta's constantly waging war in my mind this in-depth before. And I definitely wasn't going to talk to that moron shrink doctor in 13 about it. "I'm trying to learn to separate them. So, there's Sweet Peeta and Mean Peeta right now. Sweet Peeta is vocal. Calls me pretty, baby, sweetness. I like it" I’m looking down at my fingers as I explain this, wringing my hands out feeling flustered at the admission and the memories it sparked to talk about it.

Oh God stop talking!

"Mmm. Sounds nice" Cressida hums taking on a thoughtful look

"He's always been a gentle person. I just didn't think he'd be so....whoo" Katniss fans herself playfully while taking a swig of my water

Maybe I wasn't such an abomination to them after all? And honestly, this girl talk stuff was pretty fun.

"So...is it true?"

"Oh, it's true alright" I whisper with a giggle

"Long or thick?" Cressida whispers

"Both" I whisper back with a playful purr

The three of us break out in a fit of giggles and for the first time, since Johanna came running to tell me she was allowed topside for 2 hours a day, I feel good.

"What're you pretty ladies giggling about?" Finnick's groggy voice comes from the other pallet across the cellar

We all visibly jump and turn our heads to see him struggling to sit up. I'm about to head for him, but Peeta is up beside him, helping Finnick slide into a comfortable sitting position. I can see that they'd patched and bandaged up his shoulder while I slept. Peeta didn't look groggy like Finnick did as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Peeta was more or less alert.

He'd been playing possum.

Shit. How much had he heard?

"Girl talk. None of your business Odair" Cressida teases poking her tongue out at him

"I bet it was about us. You've got the two hottest Victors asleep and at your mercy. I bet you felt me up, didn't you?" He teased with a wink, wincing a little when he tilts his head

"In your wildest dreams maybe" she snorts

"How are you feeling Finnick?" Katniss adds cutting her eyes to me, probably having noticed Peeta's alertness too. She was a natural hunter just like I was, there's no way she didn't notice.

"Like something bit the shit out of me" He laughs

"Yeah, that was me. Sorry about that Finn. Had to get the imperfects venom outta you" I explain feeling genuinely bad I had to hurt him further in order to help him

"Didn't know that, but thanks. Are you ok? Did the venom hurt you?"

Now everyone is looking at me and I realize I never really did explain anything about my enhancements to anyone before. I was still figuring them out myself, so I didn't talk about it much.

"It can't"

"Why not?" Katniss asks with a tilt of the head

"Beetee, Prim and Plutarch have been conducting some tests and they found some answers but not all of them. My file is sealed up tight in the Capitol's networks so I don't know a lot but, I can tell you what I know. Just as he did Tigress, Snow modified my genetic code with some kind of feline DNA. My eyes can see in the dark when I focus enough. They'd ripped my canines out and replaced them with their own, sharper and infused with some kind of reptile's that makes the ducts venomous when I have malicious intent. But, my saliva works as a natural anti-venom.

I noticed when I first got sent to this squad that my venom was purple. That wasn't normal. I was used to it being a dark red. There seems to be different kinds in my ducts that react off of my intent. I'm still puzzling that out though. I'm one of Snow's favorite trophies. His splicing doesn't always produce the best results as you've seen in Tigress. It's why he tortured me but made sure not to destroy the things that he took pride in" I explain no longer looking at them but at my nails.

Nails that used to be so normal but now resembled claws, unable to grow any way but sharp. What was I really? Not a mutt? But still a monster.

"That's what the meat thing is about" Gale hums popping his muscles as he stretches out beside Finnick

"Can't help it. I didn't understand why Snow had them giving me only fruits and vegetables. After my first week I got it. I was in pain all the time because I couldn't give my body the nourishment it needed. They found that shit funny. Watching me cry because of some fuckin carrots!" I snap

"Cruelty is a specialty of Snow's" Finnick snorts as he stands and makes his way over to our pallet

He plops down in front of me, wounded shoulder directly in front of me. Katniss turns too and begins to unwrap her bandaged arm.

"You mind checking it for me?"

"You promise to put a shirt on if I do?" I tease

"If the exam satisfies me" he shrugs

Cressida gingerly unwraps the bandage and I shift up onto my knees to inspect it. I'm struck with a wave of dizziness that rattles my equilibrium so much so, that I'm pitched forward, unable to control any of my limbs. Finnick's left arm comes around my waist and catches me before my head can hit his knee, landing against his damp chest instead. Damn, maybe I really did overdo it? I feel warm hands on my shoulders, knowing who it is without having to look, as they tug me back quickly.

"Maybe you should rest a little more" Peeta whispers in my ear

"I-I'm ok just doing this. I'll sleep right after. I swear" I explain shaking my head to try and clear the haze

"Ok" he acquiesces, his hands still on my shoulders

He'd been silent this entire time. My head on Finnick's bare chest must have been his breaking point. He eases down behind me, his arms on either side of me, hands about to rest on my thighs before he realizes what he's doing and drops them to the fur pelts. I shake my head and pull them back up, placing his heated palms atop my thighs so he's practically snuggling me from behind. I should be ready to fight but that kiss in the tunnel awoke something in me I couldn't smother back to sleep. I still felt an irrational anxiety around him but it was much easier to ignore now.

"Just don't let me go, in case I fall again" I mumble hoping that this eases some of his concerns

I just admitted seeing him with Katniss made me jealous, I can understand the feeling on his end now. Straddling Finnick and now my head on his sweaty chest? If he felt the way people told me he did about me, this had to be driving him insane.

"I've got you" he nods against my temple

I lean forward a little, his warm hands steadying me as my torso attempts to rock side to side, and place my hands on Finn's upper right arm. He lowers his shoulder since he's taller than me and when I take my perusal of it, I'm glad to see my saliva did the trick for the skin. The circle of punctures from the rows of sharp teeth were all healing and had a flesh layer of skin scabbed over them. Katniss' arm is the same. Her wounds look days old. Good. They wouldn't scar too badly.

I roll my tongue over both healing wounds and listen for the soft sizzle before it sinks into their skin. They both shiver for a second and I smirk happily. It worked! There's a euphoria that ensues from my antivenom, when I engage it, that tingles the muscles from head to toe to help ease the pain. When everyone peers down at their skin, the flesh is now a soft pink.

"Holy shit" Gale breaths

"I told you...Mutt 2.0" I chuckle heartily then instantly regret it when I'm hit with another wave of dizziness.

A choked sound leaves my throat as I fully crumple into Peeta, vision going dark as I clutch the front of his vest for dear life while I'm pulled under in terror.

#Peeta #Peeta Mellark #peeta mellark smut #peeta mellark x reader #peeta smut #i love peeta #Team Peeta #thg fanfiction #THG Peeta #thg fic #thg x reader #survivors remorse #survivor's remorse #part eight #hunger games fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction writer

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nflstreetsanimereviews · 10 months

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Anime Review: Oshi no Ko

To say that Oshi no Ko was the anime to watch for Spring 2023 would have been an understatement. The first episode, which was feature-length at 82 minutes, was quite possibly one of the best first episodes of an anime I’ve ever seen. Of course, with around four times the time to air–Oshi no Ko had to justify its length. If it was just average, then what was the point of the grand entry? Thankfully, Oshi no Ko more than justifies the dramatic entrance.

At the time, the sky-high average rating (90/100), while a good omen, seemed like a bit much considering the show had only just started. I know most people aren’t as pricks about rating anime as I am, but I was a bit skeptical. I’ve seen anime start strong only for opinion on it to change up after time has passed. After completing Oshi no Ko, I can comfortably say that it deserves the high marks it got then, and now.

The long run time of the first episode was only part of why Oshi no Ko was so well received initially. The stylistic choices (a part brought over by the manga) set it apart from the onset. It really captures the vibe of what an ‘idol’ idealistically is. Considering that Hoshino Ai is shown as the ideal idol, it’s a perfect match. While style can carry an anime (and manga) far, eventually even the biggest sucker will notice the lack of substance–fortunately for us, Oshi no Ko has both in plentiful amounts. The story contained within the first episode is a whirlwind. It’s astounding that Oshi no Ko can contain so many various themes and time skips and still maintain to be gripping. It’s not easy for a show to be compelling while essentially being Rugrats at the same time. While the story does slow down a bit starting with episode two, it still keeps up the quality while not betraying what drew people in the first place.

The synopsis for Oshi no Ko did it no favors–I had no idea what the show was going to be about from reading it. Maybe I’m just a moron, but tell me if you can dissect whatever the hell this means:

When a pregnant young starlet appears in Gorou Amemiya’s countryside medical clinic, the doctor takes it upon himself to safely (and secretly) deliver Ai Hoshino’s child so she can make a scandal-free return to the stage. But no good deed goes unpunished, and on the eve of her delivery, he finds himself slain at the hands of Ai’s deluded stalker — and subsequently reborn as Ai’s child, Aquamarine Hoshino! The glitz and glamor of showbiz hide the dark underbelly of the entertainment industry, threatening to dull the shine of his favorite star. Can he help his new mother rise to the top of the charts? And what will he do when unthinkable disaster strikes?

At first, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. Thinking back, that was a good thing. I knew what was going to happen, while not knowing how it would happen. A good tell if a story is great is if it still is emotionally compelling even if you know what’s going to happen.

While she is only a side character when it comes to air-time, Ai Hoshino is without a doubt the star of Oshi no Ko. Her origins are mysterious–we know nothing about her mother and father, or any of her family for that matter. At first, she may seem like your bog-standard idol that sings and dances for you, but Ai has something that almost no other idol has. That something is the power to enthrall viewers with her eyes. Well, not actually, but her star-shaped pupils represent her commitment to the bit. While she’s on a mission to give love to her fans, she hasn’t ever felt anything close to that in her life. That’s perhaps how she was lured into a relationship and got impregnated. Not wanting to ruin her reputation, she goes into hiatus during that time and afterward resumes as if nothing happened. Little does she know that she gave birth to two people that have already lived a life–a life admiring their now mother.

Aquamarine and Ruby Hoshino, who are both reborn as Ai’s child, were admirers of Ai in their past lives. Aquamarine (he goes by Aqua) was a doctor in his past life, who became a fan of Ai via one of his patients. That patient, Sarina Tendouji, happens to be the person reborn as his twin sister, Ruby. Ruby had a condition that kept her bedridden and in need of constant care. I do wonder how they’ve made it this far without realizing that they’ve already known each other in a past life–it would make sense considering they both had the ability to walk and talk, among other things, as soon as they were born. I have a birds-eye view of their story, which makes it unfair to assume they would know that. Anyways, being reincarnated as Ai’s children gives them both the ability to live with their favorite idol–something only that would happen in their wildest dreams previously…that is, until the ‘unthinkable disaster strikes’. I won’t spoil what the ‘unthinkable disaster’ is, but if you’ve interacted with anyone that’s watched or read Oshi no Ko, you probably know what it is. That ‘unthinkable disaster’ gives them both motivation to shine in showbiz. For Aqua, that means becoming a teen heartthrob actor for the purpose of finding and getting revenge on those who caused the ‘unthinkable disaster’. He also works behind the scenes as a protege of director Taishi Gotanda, so he can establish further connections. For Ruby, it means becoming an idol that shines as bright as her mother. Their connections and the fact that they kept their intelligence and memories of their past life gives them a huge advantage in achieving their goals. Aqua, who was a doctor that was pushing thirty before being killed in his past life, is intelligent and mature to the degree that he can communicate with adults without any sense of childish insecurity. This is because internally, Aqua IS an adult. Around 45 if my math is correct. Ruby on the other hand, still has that childlike immaturity since she passed away as a teen in her life. She does have immense knowledge of idol culture, and of B-Komachi (the group Ai was in), which makes her a repository of most things idol-related.

Kana Arima is listed as the third main character, but I would classify her more as a ‘super-supporting character’. A former child actor that is in her own words ‘past her prime’, she becomes acquainted with Aqua as toddlers when they both star in a movie. Known as the ‘genius child actor who can cry in 10 seconds’ and the ‘Bell Pepper Girl’, she has trouble finding industry gigs now due to her behavior as a child. Becoming acquainted with both Aqua and Ruby, she finds herself working with them often, even joining the same production company they’re in. Her mission in Oshi no Ko is to regain her footing within the entertainment industry. Being a 17-year-old ‘has been’ is a lot for someone to handle. All she wants is to be adored by fans again and to regain her confidence. Kana’s story, while nowhere near as important as the main story, also runs parallel to Aqua and Ruby’s.

Akane Kurokawa, the actress that is extremely thorough when it comes to researching her roles, and MEM-cho, a YouTuber that stars alongside Aqua in a dating show, also deserve an honorable mention. Akane plays a crucial role in Oshi no Ko–one that I can’t get into without spoiling more than I want to. MEM-cho is the closest thing we have to a gag character. She serves as a casual observer of what’s going on around her.

Oshi no Ko is from the same mangaka that wrote Kaguya-sama: Love is War. While Oshi no Ko had me drawn in within the first twenty minutes, I was really never into Kaguya-sama. Does that mean that Oshi no Ko is better than Kaguya-sama? Well, I wouldn’t go that far, but it's certainly true that I enjoyed it more. If you’re a fan of one, you’re likely to be a fan of the other. ‘Non-Battle Battle Anime’ is generally something that’s better as an idea than in practice. Death Note has its moments, but overall is mediocre. Shokugeki no Souma (Food Wars) started out alright, but devolved into some of the worst anime I’ve ever watched by the fourth season (Third season part two? I don’t know. Doesn’t matter). The first volume of Classroom of the Elite (which got an anime adaptation with multiple sequels) only made me think of WHY would I, along with anyone else at the academy, would want to be part of the ‘elite’ of a country that’s been on the decline for thirty years straight? Most ‘Non-Battle Battle Anime’ is nothing more than making a mountain out of a molehill, or pseudo-intellectual garbage in Classroom of the Elite’s case. What makes Oshi no Ko better than anything else listed here is the ability to not get too involved in trying to make events seem important, and instead lets them play out. Not everything is the most important thing ever. Especially with series like Oshi no Ko where multiple side-plots are going parallel with the main plot. The exaggerated cynicism that often plagues other ‘Non-Battle Battle Anime’ isn’t a problem in Oshi no Ko as well. Sure, being an idol isn’t all sunshine and roses. Anyone who has half a brain knows that. Oshi no Ko doesn’t pretend like it’s a grand revelation that the idol industry is seedy and contains people of questionable morals. It doesn’t treat you like a dunce that needs to be spoon-fed everything. However, it does often tell you things that you actually didn’t know–like how the reason many YouTubers show off every new gadget they buy is for it to be a tax write-off. Maybe that’s just me not putting two and two together, but it makes sense considering that there’s no other reason why an idol or a podcast host would want to show off their new Hoover vacuum cleaner.

Speaking of the manga��I find the anime the more enjoyable version of Oshi no Ko. This is partly because I tend to prefer anime over manga in the first place, but also I feel like a series that’s centered around idols needs a voice for it to show its ‘true form’. The manga is good, don’t get me wrong, but there’s only so much you can do with only drawings. It’s like the difference between reading about a fight that goes on and being able to view it in visual form. There’s a reason why Dragon Ball doesn’t have any light novels (that I know of). Both the manga and anime are great. The user ratings for both will back that up. Your preference will depend on what you prefer in the first place most likely. The anime is the more appropriate medium for a series like Oshi no Ko in my opinion. That being said, it takes a manga to fully relay your idea for a story–one of idolization and revenge. Can’t have the cart without the horse.

A burning question you may have about Oshi no Ko is “What does it have to say about the idol industry?” Is it a ‘deconstruction’? Does it paint a positive view? Well, you know the latter isn’t true if you’ve made it this far. However, Oshi no Ko isn’t hyper-critical of the idol industry as it may seem. Sure, it would be easy to paint a cynical picture of the idol industry since it can be really nasty at times. Obsessive fans, very questionable use of underage girls, and the fact that idols are more than often forced to be ‘married’ to the fanbase. Having to forgo any relationship sans a business one with men and having to hide them if they do have one. Idol series like Love Live! forgo any mention of relationships with the other sex. Other than Miki Hoshii’s attachment to Producer-san, The Idolm@ster doesn’t show anything of the like either. Of course, that doesn’t stop either series from having yuri-fanatics ship characters together, or from doujin artists from drawing them getting railed, but in official media, these things are persona non grata. That’s because those series show an idealistic view of idols. They aren’t real people, so they can dance and sing all they want without worrying about reality. Reality often does shine its ugly light in those series, but it never defines it. The other end of this spectrum would be the film Perfect Blue. Perfect Blue is about a former idol, which technically isn’t the same as a ‘current idol’, but it still shows how one obsessive fan can give an otherwise normal woman chronic paranoia. Perfect Blue isn’t by any means over-cynical. It’s a great psychological thriller that still holds up to this day. Not exactly a shining endorsement of the idol industry, but that wasn’t the point. At least I think.

The point is that it’s easy to be hyper-cynical about everything idol related. However, that wouldn’t be a real representation of the idol industry either. While it may come off as ‘smart’, after a while it would just be lazy. Many people conflate pessimism with intelligence and optimism and dullness. Anime isn’t immune to that tendency. Too much cynicism only reveals that you have no idea what you’re talking about and are either too inept or apathetic to give an actual realistic view of what you’re trying to portray. Oshi no Ko thankfully doesn’t fall into this trap. I mean, for every obsessive fan there is, there are more fans like Ruby, who becomes an idol because she ‘idolizes’ them. The power of idols to brighten someone’s day is the reason why they still exist, even if you recognize that they’re ‘lies’ at the end of the day. Ruby isn’t the only one that decides to become an idol due to inspiration from former idols–many idols of today harbor fond memories of idols of yesterday. Like how many racers are inspired by the greats like Ayrton Senna and Dale Earnhardt, those that are taken from us too soon tend to be extra special to our hearts. Oshi no Ko is quick to point out that being an idol isn’t all fun and games–but that’s because being an entertainer, in general, isn’t as fun as it seems. Again, anyone with a brain knows that.

Aqua, who fully commits to being an actor so he can exact his revenge against those who caused the ‘unthinkable disaster’, has to work hard to keep climbing up the ranks. Having connections will only get you so far. He has the smarts that almost no 16-year-old boy has–mostly because he was book-smart enough to become an obstetrician in his past life. Thankfully for him, Aqua also has common sense, which makes it easier for him to use social manipulation in order to get closer to finding out the truth behind the ‘unthinkable disaster’. Being a handsome young man probably helps with that as well. The point is that to get his revenge, he needs to curry favor with industry higher-ups. Do a favor for them in exchange for information that’ll lead him closer to the answer. His journey, like Ruby’s, also shows the good, the bad, and the ugly about the entertainment industry. One of the arcs in the anime was inspired by real-life events from a dating show that’s similar to the one that Aqua participates in, so it isn’t like this isn’t made up out of whole cloth.

To answer the question, Oshi no Ko has a lot to say. Not only about the idol industry, but the entertainment industry as a whole. While it’s only a small part of the story, managing to strike a balance between blind idealism and realism enhances Oshi no Ko’s overall plot by a lot. It would be less powerful if it had Love Live’s interpretation of the entertainment industry or went the other way and everyone was a back-stabbing two-timing son-of-a-bitch ready to end your career to elevate theirs. The reality is that while there are a lot of social climbers, there are also earnest people. Aqua and Ruby meet people from both categories–and perhaps Aqua may be considered the former once you understand his true motives.

There isn’t much to rag about when it comes to Oshi no Ko. My main question as far as I know has gone unanswered is “What year is it?”. From the time that Aqua and Ruby are reborn to the current time, it seems that technology and society have not evolved whatsoever. One could say that the ‘current day’ is around now, which means they were reincarnated in the early 2000s, but that wouldn’t make sense because Ruby was already doom-scrolling and responding to hate directed towards her mother on an iPhone as a baby. That lead me to believe that the Oshi no Ko timeline was somewhere in the late 2030s, with technology not progressing any from the 2020s. Oshi no Ko doesn’t show Aqua or Ruby living in a techno-futurist utopia or dystopia. Society around them is ‘stuck’ in a sense. In order to find an answer to my question, I went to the Oshi no Ko subreddit. According to them, the answer is ‘whatever the mangaka (Akasaka) wants’. The evidence, however, suggests that Oshi no Ko takes place around the late-2010s, with Aqua and Ruby being born in 2004. This relies on the notion that Oshi no Ko and Kaguya-sama take place in the same universe. A Kaguya-sama character does make a cameo, so it’s not false to suggest that they are in the same universe. This wouldn’t explain how Aqua and Ruby were able to go viral on Twitter as babies when Twitter didn’t exist until a few years later. Ultimately, the conclusion is that it doesn’t matter, since it doesn’t interfere with the main plot at hand. It’s trivial to wonder why Twitter looks the same 15 years later, or why the technology in Oshi no Ko hasn’t progressed since Aqua and Ruby were born. It’s an afterthought that only pedants like me care about. It’s not the first series that had a fluid timeline, and it wouldn’t be the last.

As you can probably tell, there’s not much fault I can find with Oshi no Ko. Sure, I could be more nit-picky about certain details, but that has little to do with the story at hand. It checks off all of the boxes that make a great anime. The animation quality is superb. I don’t care for anime openings and endings, but most other watchers love the music–especially the opening theme. Aqua and Ruby both have separate missions in the entertainment industry, but both do it for their mother Ai–both storylines have a lot to offer. Neither storyline outshines the other, something that most anime that attempt the same fail to deliver. The supporting characters (super-supporting character in Kana’s case) also have compelling stories that feed into the main plot. It has the right balance between idealism and realism. Some more skeptical watchers may accuse Oshi no Ko of handing the dark side of ‘the industry’ with kid gloves. I disagree with that view since the industry isn’t as bad as some may like to think it is. The reason why stories like this are so compelling is because of how rare it is. If idols were getting jumped by obsessive fans every day, this wouldn’t be a story worth telling. No one would give a shit. If you dive too deep into the cynicism, you’ll end up looking as stupid as those who trick themselves into thinking that idols are for them, and them only.

With a second season coming ‘soon’, there’s no risk of diving into Oshi no Ko only to be left at a cliffhanger. This season ends at the beginning of the arc that I think does get too “Non-Battle Battle” with it. The anime adaptation of it should flow better–it’s hard to read multiple chapters that are just monologues. Way easier to shove that into one or two episodes. Then again, I’m more than likely in the minority when it comes to being bearish on the 2.5 Stage Play arc. I hate to admit it, but it kinda got too much for me at a point. Luckily, that’s the only arc where that happens. Either way, I’ll be watching it, and I recommend that you do too.

Is Oshi no Ko the anime of the year? Well, I wouldn’t go that far since we still have two seasons' worth of anime yet to be aired. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was voted AOTY at whatever award show Crunchyroll hosts. I wouldn’t complain either. It’s genuinely a very good show that deserves the praise it gets.

90/100

#anime review #anime #oshi no ko #onk #review

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