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pixiecactus · 2 months ago

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I have a feeling that Sansa’s Alayna arc is going to make her a kinder and more well rounded open minded person (in some ways, not in a other ways 👀🍷) tbh she’s living undercover as a bastard albeit a wealthy “proper” one and I think experiencing some of the ways they are treated differently in society hopefully might make her reflect on how she’s treated Jon and Arya (who, while not a bastard obviously, doesn’t fit the society’s mold). I feel so caught in the middle between “they hate each other and will want each other dead” and “they will have a perfect reunion and never argue or disagree again” like GRRM isn’t the king of nuance lol

i think so too and that's what i want for her, to grow as a person. leave some of her very problematic mindset behind as she matures.

what is so infuriating for me is that sansa is not an evil character, she's very far from it, sansa is just very painfully (for me to read) ignorant of how her behavior can hurt others.

"You're horrible," she screamed at her sister. "They should have killed you instead of Lady!"

like this quote of hers, it just makes me think about how much of an obnoxious child she is, the brattiest of them all, and makes me wonder who the fuck raised her and why aren't your parents paying attention to you so they can correct your behavior.

and i know, i really know, that she has grown up since, but at the same time, it's so minimal that the growth is almost nonexistent.

and all of the few times that sansa remembers the fact that she used to have a little sister called arya, they are moments that lack remorse and self-reflection from her.

sansa experienced firsthand how much of a fucked-up sadist joffrey baratheon was, and we never saw her looking back at the trident incident with another perspective now that she has more information about how cersei and joffrey truly are. but she still blamed arya for lady's death. and that's so frustrating to read.

it's been a few days since i wrote the paragraphs before this sentence. sorry for the drastic change of tone, but that's partly the reason why... i got the idea that i needed to discuss some opinions with my bestie, since she is the one with a psychology degree out of the two of us.

and since she assured me that these opinions of mine weren't too radical to have, here we go:

"i think that if you are related to someone by consanguinity, there's nothing that could indicate that you have any kind of automatic predisposition to actually love and care for that individual."

and: "relationships, no matter the kind, need to be nurtured by all participants to be a loving and fulfilling one."

and that is why i wholeheartedly believe that sansa isn't interested in arya as a person and even less in having her as a sister.

Sansa could never understand how two sisters, born only two years apart, could be so different. It would have been easier if Arya had been a bastard, like their half brother Jon. She even looked like Jon, with the long face and brown hair of the Starks, and nothing of their lady mother in her face or her coloring. And Jon's mother had been common, or so people whispered. Once, when she was littler, Sansa had even asked Mother if perhaps there hadn't been some mistake. Perhaps the grumkins had stolen her real sister. But Mother had only laughed and said no, Arya was her daughter and Sansa's trueborn sister, blood of their blood. Sansa could not think why Mother would want to lie about it, so she supposed it had to be true.

sansa saying that it would be easier for her if arya was a bastard like jon, for me, means that if they didn't share a father and a mother, sansa simply wouldn't put up with her, in the same way that she mostly ignores jon's existence.

also i decided to highlight the part where sansa thinks that maybe arya being her sister was some kind of mistake, because "stark stans" (derogatory as always) like to make the point that before the start of agot arya and sansa had a lovely relationship, and sure, let's be fair, this could be just sansa being a curious little child with a big imagination, but from my side of things, this only feeds my opinion that sansa simply doesn't like arya... and that is perfectly okay.

they are two very different people that follow different ideals and morals, so i think one of the most normal things we see in the books is that arya and sansa don't see eye to eye... and probably they never will.

i don't have any problem with sansa disliking arya as a person (other than, if we combine this with her crush on joffrey and later on her crush on the hound... it's my own opinion that sansa girlie doesn't seem to have good taste)

going back to my thoughts about the importance of nurturing relationships, another thing that's really frustrating to read is that arya seems like she wanted to actually do this.

"It won't be so bad, Sansa," Arya said. "We're going to sail on a galley. It will be an adventure, and then we'll be with Bran and Robb again, and Old Nan and Hodor and the rest." She touched her on the arm.

it doesn't matter to arya that sansa hasn't been the kindest to her; we have arya here trying her best to comfort her big sister, because arya is an empathetic person, and sansa is part of her family. arya understands this well, and this is one of the main things in which the sisters contrast.

"Hodor!" Sansa yelled. "You ought to marry Hodor, you're just like him, stupid and hairy and ugly!" She wrenched away from her sister's hand, stormed into her bedchamber, and barred the door behind her.

and sansa's response to this well-meaning action... well, it is what it is. sansa retorts to screaming insults at arya (which in hindsight is really funny because stansas, stark stans and bnf are always up in arms about arya thinking that sansa and her interests are "stupid", but when we have sansa on page being the one to use the word "stupid" to insult arya, they stay really quiet, you know?) and rejects arya's touch that meant to comfort her and sansa insolates herself.

and after they separated, we have arya on page, showing remorse about how things between sansa and her ended up being and wanting to see her sister again.

Arya had not known her brother was so near. Riverrun was much closer than Winterfell, though she was not certain where it lay in relation to Harrenhal. I could find out somehow, I know I could, if only I could get away. When she thought of seeing Robb's face again Arya had to bite her lip. And I want to see Jon too, and Bran and Rickon, and Mother. Even Sansa . . . I'll kiss her and beg her pardons like a proper lady, she'll like that.

and let me contrast this moment with the one in which sansa is told by cersei that arya is dead in acok.

"Not that I wanted him to stay, mind you. I had Grand Maester Pycelle and an army of midwives, and I had my brother. When they told Jaime he was not allowed in the birthing room, he smiled and asked which of them proposed to keep him out. "Joffrey will show you no such devotion, I fear. You could thank your sister for that, if she weren't dead. He's never been able to forget that day on the Trident when you saw her shame him, so he shames you in turn. You're stronger than you seem, though. I expect you'll survive a bit of humiliation. I did. You may never love the king, but you'll love his children." "I love His Grace with all my heart," Sansa said.

sansa doesn't give this news a second thought, really, or even think of arya after this. for me, this is another moment that is very frustrating to read.

sansa in that moment, really said: no thoughts, head empty. (just kidding... i just wanted to do the meme... i don't actually think that sansa is dumb, because she's not; she's just really ignorant about actions and how they truly have consequences)

and actually, actions and their consequences bring me to the next part: how do people think that arya will feel when learning that sansa threw her under the bus?

The queen looked at her, troubled, and yet Sansa could see kindness in her clear green eyes. "Child," she said, "if I could truly believe that you were not like your father, why nothing should please me more than to see you wed to my Joffrey. I know he loves you with all his heart." She sighed. "And yet, I fear that Lord Varys and the Grand Maester have the right of it. The blood will tell. I have only to remember how your sister set her wolf on my son." "I'm not like Arya," Sansa blurted. "She has the traitor's blood, not me. I'm good, ask Septa Mordane, she'll tell you, I only want to be Joffrey's loyal and loving wife."

and with sansa proclaiming arya as a traitor to the crown, that's a death sentence that sansa put on her younger sister. (and yeah, we can discuss that most likely if arya wasn't able to escape and stayed in the red keep, she could be killed as an act of revenge, but this is about sansa and her canon actions, not "what if" scenarios to defend her)

how is arya (or any other of the remaining siblings) going to feel after discovering that sansa went and snitched ned's escape plans to cersei, just because she didn't get her way?

and let's put a reminder here that arya was able to escape the red keep thanks to syrio forel sacrificing himself to give her that chance.

i've already written about the "praying for all her family that sansa did" and the "sometimes sansa saw herself having a daughter that looked just like arya" and how they don't feel significant enough for me, so i will not touch them here again.

and i don't want for arya to become a "winterfell" to sansa, you know, something that sansa didn't actually liked that much or hold in high regard before going south, and then with all the shit that happened and how now there is nothing else to hold on to, sansa started to appreciate winterfell and the protection that its walls offered her in the first place, because it's not longer around her. in my opinion, it feels shitty to do that to a person.

Arya was one of the first characters created. Sansa came about as a total opposite b/c too many of the Stark family members were getting along and familes aren't like that. Thus, Sansa was created; he ended by saying they have deep issues to work out. (source)

and with this quote of the author himself, there's no doubt that the sisters will reunite and at least talk it out, and yeah, like you said, grrm is the king of nuance.

but my stance in the situation as an arya stan is that i don't trust sansa at all to be around arya, i've the feeling that it will be so easy for sansa to hurt arya again, she has not grown enough in all we currently have as canon content.

this is going to sound ridiculous, but i follow the rule of thumb that arya is a better person than i am. i've a lot of family members that remind me so much of sansa, personality-wise. hell, sometimes sansa actually reminds me of the worst parts of myself growing up (i was a classist little bitch as a child, because that is how my biological family raised me to be) and currently i've been no contact with them since my 18th birthday, and there's not a thing i regret about this. because as my worldview changed and my mindset developed as i became more educated in social issues and systematic oppression, my family stayed the same with the same old closed-mindedness they always had.

and even if i don't see becoming "no contact" as an option for arya to choose, i think that arya and sansa are way too different to peacefully coexist, so i'm all for them becoming distant in the future. and again, there's nothing wrong with that.

thank you so much for your ask!! sorry it took me a long time to reply, i'm not really in the mood to write anything in my free time, but that's purely on me.

ps: i called myself a classist little bitch, not sansa. i think that it's fair for me to call myself a bitch. sansa is a child, so i'll never be comfortable using that term with her in mind.

#a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #house stark #arya stark #sansa stark #anti sansa stans #anti asoiaf fandom

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skyfallscotland · 6 months ago

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Writing Advice: tips, tricks & helpful links, from your friendly neighbourhood fanfic author ✨ (part one—the advice)

see part two—the resources here

I've mentioned this before, but I truly believe no one's born a great writer. A great storyteller, yes. A great writer? That's learned. I've been reading and writing basically as long as I can remember. Learning to write is like...learning through both practice and symbiosis. In saying that, I get asked about this a lot, so here's what I do and some things that might help you.

Write what you're inspired to write, when you're inspired to write it.

So you have an idea—great! Are you a plotter or a pantser? Some people like to start with an outline, others just jot down a few notes and let the keyboard take them where it will. I'm in the latter camp, generally. For me, the best way to avoid writer's block is to write what I'm inspired to write, when I want to write it. Sometimes I'll write five chapters of a story at once, others I'll switch between a multi-chapter and a one-shot.

What's most important for me, personally, is that I don't try and force anything. If you suffer from demand avoidance, the worst thing you could possibly do (in my opinion), is set arbitrary goals. You don't need to write 500 words a day. If you want to, great! If that helps you, also great, but in my experience, that will generally just make my brain say well no, now we're not writing anything for a whole week, maybe a month, if you test me.

I also personally like to have a whole fic written before I start posting it online, or at least most of it written. I like being quite far ahead of what readers are seeing because I am a pantser. It takes the pressure off and honestly, there'd be so many plot holes if I didn't. Which brings me to...

First make it exist, then make it make sense, after that make it good.

What you see me post is not my first run-through. It's not even the second. I've written, read over, and changed things at least a handful of times before ever posting it, especially when it's a multi-chapter work. Sometimes I'll write a scene I love and then realise it just doesn't flow well, because three chapters back I had someone say a certain thing. In that instance, I'll put the scene aside.

Note that I said 'put aside' not 'delete'. I never delete them until I'm finished with a fic and I'm certain I won't need them, ever. Been there, made that mistake for you! Having a separate document with just various scenes you can insert at a later date also helps you to feel like it's ok to write what you want to write when you want to write it. I'll be honest, I jump around a lot. Sometimes I'll be inspired to write a scene I know isn't coming for another five chapters, but in my opinion it's best to just write it because when I get there five chapters down the line, I might not have the inspiration or I might have forgotten how I wanted things to go. Write what your brain wants to, fill in the blanks later!

Write from the heart.

My most popular work is the one I find the easiest to write and I almost never wrote it at all. Isn't that ridiculous? I almost never wrote it because I know it's cliché and excessive, and honestly...looked down upon. I almost didn't write it because of other people's opinions; then I said fuck it, I want to read it so surely there's someone else out there that does, too? Turns out there were thousands of you. Who knew?

But that work has really resonated with so many people and I think that's because I've poured so much of myself, my pain, my own experiences into it, into her. For that reason, I'd tell anyone starting out to try original character fic if that's what they want to do. Fuck the haters. All their favourite works were original characters once too.

Don't read similar fic while you're writing yours...unless you need to.

Let me explain. If I'm writing a certain type of alternate universe, or a certain storyline I know someone else has written, I won't read theirs until I'm done if I can help it, especially not if I'm actively writing my take on it. This isn't a hard and fast rule, it's obviously up to you what you feel comfortable with, but I would never want to have someone else's work influence my own too much, or get our ideas confused in my head, you know?

An exception to this rule, for me personally, is if I'm stuck with specific things in particular, like smut. When I wrote my first smut piece from a male POV, I was struck by the fact that I had no idea what an orgasm felt like for them, or how to describe it, because despite reading M/M fic for years, I apparently never absorbed that particular verbiage, so I went looking and read a whole bunch of smut from the male POV just to get an idea. Which leads into...

So you suck at kung-fu fighting.

Action scenes. I'm convinced we all hate them just as much as each other. I hate them so much I've changed whole plotlines from canon just so I don't have to include them. Unfortunately, my main fandom features a bunch of knife-throwing, sword-wielding, dragon riders at a war college who spar for clout, so I mean...it's unavoidable.

I still suck at writing it though, so what I now do for sparring and other hand-to-hand combat is search up youtube for sparring videos or self-defence lessons. It's much easier to describe what you're seeing than to imagine the mechanics and positioning of an artform you've never performed. The kung-fu thing was a joke, I like capoeira personally.

Stop being so damn hard on yourself.

Listen, everyone wants to be better than they are when they start out, literally everyone. I know I sure did. That's normal. Accept that it's normal before you start because the thing is, no one's a harsher critic on you, than you are and you'll always want to be better. There's a quote from Ira Glass that I'll paraphrase:

“Nobody tells this to people who are beginners, I wish someone told me. All of us who do creative work, we get into it because we have good taste. But there is this gap[...]It’s trying to be good, it has potential, but it’s not. But your taste, the thing that got you into the game, is still killer. And your taste is why your work disappoints you. A lot of people never get past this phase, they quit."

It's very true. Hopefully you have the support of a really welcoming fandom to reassure you that actually, you're nowhere near as bad as you think you are.

READ. BOOKS.

@justallihere says you can’t be good at something you don’t know anything about and it's so true, I've phrased it before as learning by symbiosis, when you read more, you'll internalise more. You're subconsciously learning how story structure works—plot hooks, transitions, metaphors and similie, grammar, style and punctuation.

Show don't tell.

...yeah this one I haven't mastered, I could use some help with that myself if anyone's got any words of wisdom, thanks.

Take all of this with a grain of salt.

I couldn't tell you how many writer's advice threads and blogs and whatever-else I've read over the years—too many, for sure. What I can tell you is 80% of what I've read was crap. It doesn't apply to me at best and it's unhelpful at worst. Maybe it's the neurodivergence, maybe it's just the fact that everyone's different and all you can do is give things a try, but based on that I can say with certainty that not all of this will work for you and that's absolutely fine! But I hope at least a few things do 😌

For links to more specific resources including thesauruses, generators, and other writers' advice, click here.

#writing advice #writeblr

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therhythmafterthesummer · 2 years ago

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Alone Together (M) ~Lee Know

Pairing: SpacePirate!Minho x Smuggler!F.Reader Themes: Sci-Fi AU (barely) | Smut | Established Relationship (kind of) | Lovers (idiots) to Even More Lovers (affectionate) Word Count: ~8k | AO3 Synopsis: Minho was a man on the run, an outlaw. He was always getting himself into trouble, thieving and fighting against the people that perpetuated an unfair system that did nothing but bring pain to those the system considered lowly and unworthy. For his next mission, he decided to ask for help from the person he trusted most in this world, you. Warnings: star wars concepts used very loosely and probably very poorly · made up locations · mentions of slavery and morally questionable situations · the term suicide mission is used once · your honour they’re sickly in love · graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut).

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Author’s Note: i started watching the book of boba fett, and it seems like it’s impossible for me to watch anything star wars related without wanting to write about people boning in space. so this piece was born ! it’s incredibly self-indulgent, but i hope someone else out there gets to enjoy it too~

this was barely proof-read, so if anything sounds weird don’t hesitate to let me know lol

Smut Warnings: this is very vanilla tbh · praise · fingering [F.Rec] · protected penetration [piv].

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

As an outlaw, Minho’s entire livelihood depended on him not attracting too much attention to himself, on laying low and being as stealthy as possible. Which was why it almost felt counterintuitive to be here right now, trying to get his ship caught on the radars of a cargo ship. Although, to be fair, it wouldn’t have been the first time he tried to get into this cargo ship in this exact same way, but usually he’d have a bit more preparation than this.

“Shit… Here we go. Buckle up, boys”, Minho informed his crewmates.

Their entire starcraft shook violently as the gravitational beam of the much bigger starship pulled them towards it. They were discovered almost as soon as they came close to the vessel, and Minho had honestly taken a leap of faith with this move, because this could’ve gone two ways: like it was going right now, them being pulled towards the hangar within the starship, or they could’ve been shot down on sight.

Getting within the perimeter of a smuggler ship was always dangerous, especially when done unannounced, but Minho was desperate, so he did what he had to do.

As soon as his ship was parked within the hangar, he unbuckled his safety belt, standing up and stretching his limbs. “Guys, get ready. Remember what I said, no sudden movements, no arguing, just follow my lead, okay?”

Hyunjin and Felix nodded in understanding, getting out of their seats and stretching as well, just as loud thuds started to resonate within the crammed space they called their ‘navigation room’. That was a bold claim, this ship consisted only of that navigation room, small enough to go undetected when needed, but not that good for long periods of time travelling, he’d admit.

“Open up, hands in the air!”

Minho nodded to his crewmates, and once they both lifted their arms he hit the door’s button on his console.

Four super battle droids stood right outside, with their blasters pointed right at them. Minho hadn’t seen this model of droid before, they must’ve been one of your latest acquisitions, and somehow, that thought brought a smile to his face. However, new droids meant that they wouldn’t know who he was, which also meant things could get out of hand really quickly.

“Step out!”

Minho got off the ship first, with his hands in the air as instructed, followed by Hyunjin and Felix. The droids immediately took a hold of their wrists, rather forcefully, and it made him wince.

“Hey! We’re cooperating, don’t be so harsh, jeez…” The droids completely ignored Minho, simply continuing their task of holding their wrists behind their backs and binding them together.

“Names, and what were you doing fluttering around this ship?”

“I’m Minho. These are Hyunjin and Felix”, Minho replied simply, gesturing with his head as he named his two crewmates. “We came to speak with your captain”.

“Our captain has no time to deal with stowaways”, one of the droids scoffed, pointing their blaster right to Minho’s forehead.

He couldn’t help but smirk, the words flying past his mouth before he could even think twice about them. “How can you call us stowaways when you were the ones to pull us in here?”

The droid went silent. Minho figured that if it could make facial expressions, it would’ve looked annoyed.

“It’s really important”, Minho urged. “I’m sure she’ll understand. If you’re planning on throwing us to the trash chute, don’t you think she’d like to make the call herself?”

The droid in front of him went silent again, the other three were just surrounding them, pointing their blasters at them. It was taking the droid so long to say something, Minho started to really worry that he had miscalculated how this part of the plan would go.

Ultimately, the droid lowered its weapon, and the three of them heaved a sigh of relief. “Follow me”.

The insides of the ship looked almost the same as they had last time Minho was here, save for a few changes to the corridor’s decor. How long had it been? Three months? Six? It was hard to tell these days when he was running for his life half the time.

The group of droids guided the three of them towards where Minho knew the main control room would be, where you probably would be. He should’ve been unfazed, Minho had seen you thousands of times, but somehow every single time without fail his heart would flutter, especially when so much time had passed since he last saw you.

As soon as the doors of the main control room slid open they were engulfed by the sound of clicks and clacks from the amount of droids sitting at their stations just pressing buttons. It was impressive, how you had put together this entire operation almost on your own, he couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

“Captain”, the droid spoke finally, snapping Minho out of his daze.

Ah, there you were, hunched over your desk, with your fingers flying on the touchscreen that was embedded in it. What were you doing? Planning your next course? Ensuring the safety of your routes? Checking for imperial ports in the vicinity? Minho was always curious, mostly because he was nosy. He wanted to have as much knowledge as possible at any given time, but he also just liked to hear you talk about things. He quite enjoyed hearing you speak, he’d admit.

“What is it, B2-49?” Shit, just your voice could kickstart Minho’s heartbeat. He should visit more often, the longer he spent away the more your mere existence affected him, and it was, quite honestly, inconvenient.

“The stowaways wish to speak with you”, the droid, B2-49, informed you, and you scoffed, not lifting your eyes from the screen under your fingertips for a second.

“How can you call them stowaways when we pulled them in here in the first place?”

“Took the words right out of my mouth”, Minho couldn’t help but say, grinning at you once the sound of his voice finally pulled you from your task.

Your eyes went wide as soon as you spotted him, you clearly weren’t expecting him, and Minho would lie if he said he didn’t enjoy catching you off guard, that he didn’t enjoy your attention.

Your gaze jumped from him to his two companions, and your brows furrowed. You looked at him again, right in the eyes, confusion written all over your face. “What’re you doing here?”

“Can’t I just drop by anymore?”

“You can”, you leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest. “But something tells me you’re here with a purpose”.

‘So when I come here to fuck you isn’t a purpose?’ was what Minho would’ve liked to say, because that was often why he came to your ship, but he’d always come alone. Hyunjin and Felix didn’t have to know any of that, so he kept his mouth shut. Instead, he chose to take a direct approach.

“We need a safe route to infiltrate the Antrilian quadrant”.

You scoffed, incredulousness painted all over your face. “Have you gone mad? Antrilia? Want me to get you right to the intergalactic council as well?”

Antrilia was known for hosting the biggest slave ring in the galaxy, it was heavily guarded by imperial forces, and it was Minho’s goal to bring it all down, to free every single slave in the quadrant, stealing a few prized possessions in the process–he had to get his money’s worth, of course.

It was a very personal task, considering two of his crewmates had been taken by the empire recently. Saving his friends and taking it all down wouldn’t be easy, the entire quadrant was heavily guarded, which was why he had come to you, the best, most discreet smuggler he’d ever known.

“I’m being serious”, and he was.

Minho’s entire purpose was to rid the galaxy of every single slave camp he could, that was how he met his crewmates, they formed their own guild and were now some of the most wanted men in the galaxy. Ever since he himself escaped from one of those places when he was just a kid, he made it his purpose to wreak as much havoc as possible, to bring down the system. It was dangerous, and he’d been close to dying more times than he could count, but he just couldn’t turn a blind eye to it.

You looked at him for a moment, your eyes jumping all over his face. After a while, you finally unfolded your arms to place your hands flat on the table. “Oh my Gods, you are serious. Do you have a death wish?”

Minho gave you a smile, a smug one, and you immediately brought your fingers to your temples, rubbing circles there.

“I can’t do that, Minho”, you said as soon as you seemed to realise he wasn’t going to back down.

“If there’s anyone in this galaxy that can get us there is you. I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t truly believe that”, and Minho really meant it. Regardless of his personal connection to you, he knew you were incredibly good at your craft.

You looked at him for a few moments, quiet, pondering, he could almost see the cogs turning inside your head, and for a brief moment he wondered if you would just shoot him down completely. That was, until you spoke again.

“What’s in it for me?”

"My gratitude", Minho said in a mock tone, and you quirked a brow, almost as if you were telling him ‘be fucking serious right now’.

So he clicked his tongue, slightly annoyed that you didn’t want to play along. “The receptor of an imperial cruise with a valid code”.

Immediately, a glint of excitement appeared in your eyes,

“How did you… Get your hands on that?”

Minho shrugged. “I have my ways”.

You were silent for a while, just looking into his eyes and tapping your fingers on your desk. Minho looked right back at you, waiting for you to make your decision. This wasn’t the first time he was asking for a favour, but it was certainly the first time he was asking for something so dangerous, so he could completely understand if you didn’t want to help him. He wouldn’t have taken it to heart either way.

With a deep intake of breath, you finally stood up from your desk and walked a bit closer to the group, to stand right in front of Minho. “This is not something I can decide just now. I need some time to think about it”.

“There’s not much time, I’m afraid”, Minho gave you a genuinely apologetic smile, and you sighed, somehow sounding both defeated and annoyed.

“Quit being dramatic. I’m sure you can give me at least twenty four hours”.

“Twenty four hours sounds reasonable”.

You looked at Minho for a moment, and then looked at his crewmates. “Who are you guys?”

“Hyunjin”.

“Felix”.

Both of his crewmates introduced themselves at the same time, but you seemed to pick up their names anyway. You signalled your droids to remove their restraints, giving them both a welcoming smile. “Welcome aboard, Hyunjin and Felix”.

They simply returned your greetings, sounding immensely grateful now that they were no longer bound. You were just about to walk away when Minho cleared his throat with a frown on his face.

“Aren’t you going to untie me, too?”

You looked him up and down, and a devilish smile made its way to your lips, making the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. “Why should I?”

“So you untie my friends and not me? Seems a bit biassed on your part, doesn’t it?”

You walked closer, standing so close he almost felt as if you were going to kiss him. Right there. In front of his friends. And that realisation had his heart pounding in his chest, and, even more annoyingly, it brought heat to his ears. He tried his best to not show how affected he was, though. He stood his ground, with the self-assured smile he could pull off.

Bringing your hand behind him, you took a hold of the device binding his wrists. “Say please”.

His smug façade crumbled immediately, replaced by a look of incredulousness. Minho scoffed, tilting his head to the side and looking you right in the eyes. “You can’t be serious right now…”

The corners of your mouth quirked up, and the mirth in your eyes made him both feel giddy and incredibly annoyed.

“I’m dead serious, Lee Minho”, you told him, and Minho realised then that if he leaned in just the tiniest bit, he could definitely press his lips to yours, and for a second, he genuinely considered it.

If it had been just you and your droids, he certainly would’ve kissed you right then and there, but the presence of his friends behind him gave him pause. It wasn’t like Minho minded if they knew, it was that he wasn’t sure whether you would mind or not. But based on how things had gone between you two so far, he figured you would, so he took a deep breath, closing his eyes to avoid looking at your triumphant face.

“Please”.

“Please, what?”

His eyes snapped open, and there was nothing he wanted more in that moment than to wipe that glint of victory in your eyes. Regardless, Minho swallowed his pride, he was in no position to try his luck.

“Please, captain”.

You smiled, clearly satisfied. With what Minho figured was a press of a button on his cuffs, the thing unravelled from his wrists, finally letting him move freely.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” You tapped his chest, and Minho had to bite his tongue. Oh, he was so getting his payback for this.

Before he could say anything, you spoke again. “You guys can stay here today if you want. There’s plenty of rations for all of us, including the few other living people on this ship, but I’m afraid there’s only one spare room conditioned for people to stay in besides the crew’s”.

“We’ll stay”, Minho rubbed his wrists, trying to ease some of the ache caused by his restraints.

The room provided to them was big enough, with a bunk bed embedded on one of the walls, and another on the other. Very sterile looking, nothing in particular stood out, it was just like any other room Minho had seen on a spaceship of this size. The biggest add-on was the adjacent washroom, which the three of them immediately rejoiced at when they noticed it.

No one ever spoke about it, but depending on the ships you travelled in throughout the galaxy, a washroom could be considered a luxury, so the prospect of a good shower and a fresh change of clothes was certainly appealing. Minho let his younger crewmates take the spot first, since he was sure both Hyunjin and Felix were dying to feel clean again.

As he waited for them to come out, slouching on one of the chairs in the room, Minho’s mind couldn’t help but wander. He’d never imagined he’d be here, in your ship, with any of his friends. He’d hoped that maybe one day, if things worked out, he could introduce you to them in a less… Contained fashion. But things never seemed to go as he expected whenever it came to whatever it was that was lingering between you two.

As soon as his friends were ready, Minho immediately rushed to the washroom. He took his time just washing off all the grime and gunk that had stuck to him during their almost never-ending travels the past handful of days, so truly, he was immensely grateful for that shower.

“Do you think she’ll help?” Felix asked from where he was laying on the top bunk as soon as Minho came out of the washroom.

“Honestly?” Minho rubbed a towel on his head, trying to get his hair as dry as possible. “I really have no idea”.

Hyunjin eyed him for a moment, leaning back on his hands from where he sat on the bottom bunk. “You sure? You seem to be awfully close with the captain of this ship”.

“I mean, I wouldn’t say awfully close”, Minho was great at lying and deception, but even to him that statement sounded incredibly disingenuous. “We… Know each other”.

“You know each other? Or you know each other?” Felix wiggled his eyebrows at Minho, just as the older man was sitting on the bottom bunk of the other bunk bed.

“If you ask me, I’d like to think she’d do it. But this is very different from any favour I’ve ever asked. More dangerous… So who knows”, Minho decided to completely brush off the curious eyes, and even more curious questions of his crewmates. Explaining his connection to you was something he’d rather not speak about, not now at least.

Felix looked like he was going to say something, something incredibly annoying. So Minho decided to abruptly stand up from his bed and intercept him. “Anyway, I’m going for a snack”.

“A snack?” Hyunjin asked once Minho walked past him. “Is that how we’re calling the cap–”

Before he could even attempt to finish his sentence, Minho took the towel he had draped over his shoulders and swiftly snapped it in Hyunjin’s direction, hitting him in the arm.

“Ow! Unnecessary!” Hyunjin rubbed his upper arm, pouting.

Minho simply offered him a ‘deserved’ before he walked out the door.

Minho did intend on finding something to snack on before bed, but he would lie if he said he wasn’t keeping his eyes open in case he spotted you. All he’d seen so far was the odd droid going about their business, and a couple of crew members who greeted him as usual.

“Who gave you permission to wander the corridors of my ship?”

Minho’s skeleton almost jumped out of skin at the sudden voice speaking to him. As soon as that initial shock passed he knew it was you, how could he not know when the sound of your voice was already ingrained in every crevice of his brain? So he decided to put up his best smug façade once again, ignoring the way his heart started to thump in his chest just at the sound of your voice.

“You did, captain. If my memory serves me right”.

You just scoffed in response, and started to walk towards him. Once you stood in front of him, you crossed your arms over your chest, and simply looked at him with a frown on your face.

For a moment, Minho didn’t say anything, just like you didn’t either. Your gaze was stern, guarded, just like it usually was whenever you were into your Captain Mode. After all, you spent most of your time around your crew, leading them, planning morally questionable arrangements to get work going, so it was no surprise to him that you looked at him like this.

However, after a few more moments of silence, the frown on your face turned to one of concern, and, honestly, Minho would lie if he said he didn’t like it when you worried about him. Because he knew that was what was going through your mind right now, worry.

“Is there anything I can say or do to get you to not do this?”

Minho gave you a smile, a genuine one, the ones he reserved mostly for you, and for moments like these. “No”.

You sighed. “For a pirate, you sure have a lot of morals, don’t you?”

“Being a contradiction is my favourite pastime, baby, you know that”, he registered the pet name falling from his lips a second too late. There was nothing he could do about it, it was like his brain would automatically shift into Smitten Mode whenever you two were on your own. If you were displeased by it, you didn’t show it or say anything about it. “I must say, I find it rather cute that you’re worrying about me that much”.

You scoffed at that, rolling your eyes. “Of course I worry about you. Unfortunately, you’ve got this horrible habit of risking your life, and since I’ve got the horrible habit of caring about you, it’s only natural that I worry”.

Had you no regard for his weak heart? How could you tell him you cared about him so nonchalantly? And while you were scolding him at that? He wanted to say something back, to bicker a bit more, but his body seemed to not agree with that logic, because it decided that the best reaction would be to rush blood to his ears and his chest, making him flush.

So, to counterattack, Minho simply did what he did best, to display his affection through his actions instead of his words. Cradling your face in his hands, he dragged his thumbs over your cheeks, and as he stared into your eyes he could see all your walls crumble, just like they always did in situations like these. ‘Cute’, was the last word to leave his mouth before he pressed his lips to yours.

Warmth spread quickly inside of him, the tiny whine that escaped your mouth as soon as your lips connected ignited in him all those feelings he usually tried to ignore, and the way you kissed him, with as much desperation as he felt, had blood rushing to his length immediately. Minho couldn’t help it, it was instinctual at this point, to get hard when you so much as touched him–even if that touch was only your lips on his, your hands grabbing his top, and your tongue inside his mouth.

Before he knew it, he had moved, walking forward and pressing you against the cold metal walls of your ship. His hands finally left your face to hold your waist instead, and you took it as an opportunity to loop your arms around his neck, burying one of your hands in his hair and tugging gently.

“Missed you”, Minho mumbled against your lips as he slotted one of his legs between your own, pressing his thigh right against your core. He wasn’t ashamed or bashful of the words that came out of his mouth, he was way past that point, he’d decided long ago that sometimes–especially after long periods of time apart–telling you how he felt was better than having to bottle it all up.

“Missed you, too”, you mumbled back, bringing one of your legs to wrap around his hip, pulling him close, kissing him deeply right after. You, clearly, had also decided to let go of those inhibitions as well.

Moving his hand from your waist to your bum, he groped the flesh over your bottoms, just as he detached himself from your mouth to sparsely press kisses on your neck, right in the areas he knew you were the most sensitive, making you whimper. “Can’t believe you made me fucking beg to get me out of the handcuffs”.

“Wouldn’t have been the first time”, you replied with a strained chuckle, digging your heel on the back of his thigh, enticing him. It was certainly working. “Probably won’t be the last, either”.

“You minx”, Minho chuckled, returning his lips to yours, pushing his tongue inside your mouth, taking a hold of your thigh and squeezing it.

Your heavy breathing, the warmth emanating from your body that immediately seeped into him, kindling the fire that burnt bright inside of him, that fire that didn’t seem to die regardless of how much time passed, all combined had Minho’s head spinning, had him growing impossibly hard. He needed you just as much as he needed oxygen in his lungs, and for a brief second he considered taking you right there, right in the middle of the corridor, uncaring of who could walk by and see you two.

As usual, though, you brought some sense into him, tugging hard on his hair to get him to detach his mouth from yours, mumbling a breathless ‘wanna head to my cabin?’ to which Minho simply replied an overly confident ‘thought you’d never ask’. So, as soon as he separated himself from your body you took his hand in yours, pulling him along the corridor, following the familiar path to your sleeping quarters.

There had always been this thing about your room that gave Minho an immense amount of peace. He wasn’t sure if it was the infuser you seemed to have on at all times, the one that filled your room with whichever relaxing essential oil you’d gotten your hands on during your travels, or if it was the clear signs that this was your living space–the seemingly permanent heap of clothes on the chair next to your bed, the journal you kept on your desk, the huge, old-fashioned map of the galaxy taped to the wall… It was all so incredibly you, it made him feel completely enveloped by your presence, it comforted him, really.

His favourite part of your room, though, was your bed. Incredibly comfortable, with just the right amount of firmness to it, saturated in the smell of you. And maybe later, Minho would be able to bury his face in your pillow, to try and etch your essence into his memory to get him through the hard days to come.

Right now, as your clothes and his landed on the already existing pile of clothes on your chair, he could hardly think about any of that. The feeling of your bare skin against his was more than enough to drown him in the moment. Every sigh, moan, whine that came out of your mouth whenever his lips touched your skin, the warmth of your body under him, it all let him ignore the world out of this room, out of this ship, let him focus on only you and him and the deep desire that was burning bright inside of him.

Between your hands roaming his back, the desperate way you clung to him, kissing him so hungrily he could barely breathe, Minho knew it was only a matter of time until you talked, or until he talked. He always wondered who would be the first one to ask that burning question that always hung in the air, most of the time it was him, but on odd occasions, you’d cave, and he was always ready to answer when you did.

“Have you been with other people since the last time we saw each other?”

There it was. You beat him to it this time, but, honestly, it really didn’t matter who asked it. To him, regardless of who broke the question first, it never made the entire thing any less absurd.

“Other people?” He propped himself on one hand to get a better view of you, dragging the other hand all the way from your shoulder to your centre, feeling your heated skin under his palm. His fingers teased your folds, spreading your essence all over, getting his fingers drenched. Gods, you were so wet for him already, and you’d barely even started.

Minho was impatient. He always was the first time he got you under him like this after a long time. He wanted you, he wanted to see you squirming and writhing under his touch, so he wasted no more time, easing his ring and middle finger into your dripping heat. A quiet moan flew past your lips as soon as he was buried to the knuckle, gripping the bed sheets near your head once he started slowly thrusting his fingers in and out, letting you get used to the intrusion.

“There’s been no one else. No one could ever remotely compare”, he emphasised his words with a hard nudge on your sweet spot, and a tug on your nipple, eliciting a moan from your lips. “There’s been flirting, I’ll give you that. Knowingly and unknowingly. More often than not to get ourselves out of tricky situations, you know how it is… But physically? Emotionally? I haven’t wanted anyone else since the first time I buried my head between your legs and got you to moan so sweetly for me, sweetheart”.

“Minho, my darling…” Your voice was airy, your face flushed, and quiet moans continued to spill from your lips as he picked up his rhythm, prepping you, moving his fingers against all those areas inside of you he seemed to have committed to memory throughout the years, the ones that would labour your breath and get you to moan a bit louder the longer he worked you up.

Minho dipped, finding your mouth and kissing you with force, with need. Because all this time, all he’d ever needed was you, he always did. Every day, even when he decided to ignore it.

You held onto his forearm, lightly digging your nails on his flesh, but he didn’t mind. If anything, it reminded him of the fact that he was here, with you, making you feel good, getting to enjoy you once more.

“What about you?” Minho said once he disconnected his mouth from yours for air, leaving a trail of kisses from your cheek to your neck.

He wanted to know. He wouldn’t judge you, you were free to do as you pleased, after all. That was how it worked between you two, although ‘worked’ could be considered a very loose term here. “Has anyone taken care of you these past handful of months?”

You shook your head, inhaling sharply when Minho continued his descent down your torso, attaching his mouth to your chest as his fingers kept going in and out of you, as he kept stimulating that area within your walls that he knew would get you to lose your train of thought.

Of course you hadn’t had sex with anyone else. You never did. You hadn’t in years, just like Minho hadn’t, either.

“I only–Oh!” Your words cut off, replaced by a breathy moan once Minho’s lips found one of your nipples and sucked it into his mouth to flick it with his tongue. He could feel you clenching hard around his fingers, and it almost made him dizzy with how hard it was getting him.

You swallowed, audibly. Your fingers tangled in Minho’s hair, tugging at it as he kept working you up. With his fingers, with his mouth, with his tongue… He loved to coax the most delicious sounds out of your lip, but he wanted to know. He needed to know. So he let go of your nipple, finding your burning gaze as soon as he looked at your face.

“I haven’t”, you whined, just as you sneaked a hand down your body, finding your clit to draw circles on it. “You are the only person I ever want. I’ve been cursed since the very first day I met you…”

The bead of precum that had been slowly growing on the tip of his cock fell onto the bed once your words registered in his brain. And Minho realised then that he, too, had been cursed since the very first day he met you. Cursed to be in love with you for the rest of his days, cursed to have to ignore that fact and live in this arrangement you two had conjured.

Leaning in, he captured your lips again, and the whimper that came out of your mouth as soon as he started to kiss you was enough for him to know just how true it all was.

“Go faster”, Minho mumbled against your lips between kisses, picking up the pace of his fingers. “C’mon, baby, I know you’re close. Rub your precious little clit faster. I need you to come on my fingers”.

“But…” You started to protest, but you sped up your motions anyway, squirming, whining. “It’s too soon”.

“Doesn’t matter”, Minho kept flicking his fingers against your sweet spot, just as you kept pleasuring yourself. “I’ll get you to come again later. We’ve got all night. Please, love…”

He returned his mouth to your nipple, suckling and licking the hardened bud. You were swearing a lot, writhing a lot, and as soon as the most desperate ‘close…’ fell from your lips, he trapped your nipple between his teeth, nibbling softly on the sensitive flesh. Your whole body shook with your release, and your moans mingled with his own groans of satisfaction. He revelled in the way your walls clamped around his fingers, in the squelching sounds produced by the movement of his fingers going in and out of your heat.

Minho let go of your nipple, already knowing it’d be too much for you after your high. Your hand on your clit stopped, but you kept your fingers there, applying pressure to prolong your release just as he kept slowly stimulating your walls.

“Fuck…” You finally moved your hand away from between your legs, and your body slumped on the bed, a clear signal that your high was over.

Pulling his fingers from your core, he slid them up to tease your sensitive clit for a second, chuckling at the jolt of your body with the contact. You looked so absolutely stunning like this. Flushed, panting, almost glowing.

Holding your gaze, he brought his fingers to his mouth, savouring your taste as he licked them clean. You swallowed, and Minho removed his fingers from his mouth, only to bring them to yours. “Open up, sweetheart”.

And you did. Letting him ease his fingers inside your mouth. Your lips wrapped around his digits oh, so perfectly, and your tongue lapped him up just as your eyes closed and your brows pulled together with a muffled moan. “Look at you… Always eager to give a good suck”.

You hummed, nodding.

“Most beautiful girl in the galaxy”, he couldn’t help but say as he looked at you eagerly sucking on his fingers, as he felt your tongue lick his digits.

When he removed his fingers from your mouth, he finally leaned in, pressing a brief kiss to your forehead, and moving to connect your mouths once again right after. He hugged you close, laying on top of you and covering you with as much of his body as he could, enjoying your warmth.

Minho finally let you take a breather, removing his mouth from yours to instead press kisses on your collarbone. You sighed, content, and the way you massaged his scalp as you held him close had heat spreading in his chest and face, probably making him blush like a fool.

“Fuck, I haven’t come that hard in months…” you mumbled, still slightly breathless. Minho chuckled, resting his weight on one elbow to look at your face, smiling softly at you.

“And we’re only just getting started, hm?” Minho kissed you briefly, pulling away from you when he felt your hand wrap around his length, stroking him leisurely. “Nuh-uh. None of that”, he tugged your hand away from his cock, eliciting a pout in response.

“You don’t want me to touch you?”

“Oh, baby…” Minho stretched his arm, blindly reaching for the knob of the drawer of your nightstand. “Want you to touch me so much”, he blindly rummaged through it, quickly finding the box of condoms he knew you kept there. “But I want you so fucking bad right now. Need to be inside you now or I’ll combust”.

You chuckled against his lips when he leaned in to press a quick peck on your lips. Pulling himself from you for a moment, he focused on the box in his hand, dumping the contents on the bed by your head and grabbing a single packet.

There were still as many as he had seen last time he was here with you.

Minho quickly tore the foil packet open and slid the condom on his length, giving himself a couple of tentative pumps to make sure it was all secure. Lining himself with your entrance, he teased you for a moment, lost in your lustful gaze and the way you bit your lip in anticipation, lost in the burning desire inside of him.

He couldn’t help but kiss you again, right as he started to ease his cock between your walls. You moaned, holding him tightly, kissing him desperately. Minho simply grunted, and he started to feel lightheaded just by your warmth around him. You were so intoxicating, and the feeling of you around him was so familiar, and even a bit comforting. As he slid centimetre after centimetre within your core, he was reminded of why he was here.

Because you were warm.

Because you were home.

Once he bottomed out, he propped himself up to look at your face. One of your hands came to rest on his cheek, and your thumb softly caressed his skin. Minho turned his head a bit, just enough to kiss your palm as he started to move. The feel of you around him, warm, tight, wet, made him close his eyes, made him quietly moan as he enjoyed the onslaught of sensations coursing through him.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, and your heel dug on his ass, trying to get him closer to you.

“Harder”, was all you mumbled, and it made him chuckle and open his eyes.

“I’m trying to be careful and you want me to go harder?” Minho kept his rhythm slow, almost teasing you.

“Who’s asking you to be careful?” You pressed your lips to his neck, once again making him flush–although at this point he wasn’t sure if the flush had diminished at all since he came into this room. “It’s been too long, darling. Six months, three weeks, and two days, to be exact. I missed you, and all I want is for you to fucking ruin me, Minho”.

“Shit, what am I gonna do with you…”

Pulling himself away from your embrace, he sat straighter, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder and starting a brutal pace right then and there. The moan of surprise that came out of your mouth as soon as he started moving fueled him, it almost made him lightheaded, making him completely forget where you two were, not caring if people heard you at all.

Minho wasn’t sure where to focus; on your tits bouncing with every single one of his thrusts, on the way your face scrunched up in bliss, on the absolutely divine feeling of you wrapped so snugly around him… All combined had sparks of pleasure racing up and down his spine, had his head spinning.

“Is this what you wanted?” With a tight grip on your thigh, keeping your leg flush to him, making sure to hit that area within your walls that would make you produce all those sounds he wanted to hear.

You nodded, swallowing as you brought a hand to his abdomen, sinking your nails into his flesh. The sting made him grunt, made him throw his head back and snap his hips just a tad faster.

“Look at me”, you mumbled, somehow both commanding and breathless, dragging your nails down his abdomen. As soon as Minho complied, your lascivious gaze almost made him burst. Eye contact was a thing that you always enjoyed, but he wasn’t too sure he’d be able to stand it for long, not at this moment at least. The way you looked at him always made him want to blow, especially so after months of no physical contact.

Minho just chuckled, finding your breast with his free hand to knead the flesh and pinch and roll your nipple between his fingers, eliciting a strained moan from you, making you bite your lip to keep your volume in check. “Are you trying to make me blow?”

As soon as the question came out of his mouth, he felt you clench around him, and he couldn’t help but groan at the sensation. He knew you were doing it on purpose, you always liked to work him up, get him to lose his sanity with the simplest things, and he always fell for it, because it was just so good. “What if I am?”

“You sound… Way too self-assured for someone who’s… Borderline gasping for air, you know?”

The laugh that had started to bubble over from you got caught in your throat, replaced by a string of swear words as Minho moved his hand from your breast to your mound and pressed his thumb on your clit. He might’ve been struggling, but he was determined to get you to struggle as well.

You swallowed, licking your lips as you clearly tried to pull yourself together enough to bicker with him. “But you like it, huh?”

“I fucking do, shit…” He just sped up his fingers, trying to get you to your peak as fast as possible.

Minho really couldn’t tell how much time passed of him pounding into you, rubbing your clit and tugging on your nipples, and he honestly didn’t care, either. This was always the best part, getting to lose himself in the moment, pleasuring you and getting pleasure of his own just by the feel of you there, under him, around him.

Every time you spoke, it brought him increasingly closer to the edge, your ‘just like that, baby’, and your frequent and almost incomprehensible ‘so fucking good’ simultaneously going to his head and his cock, fueling him even further. When you finally came, he couldn’t hold back the groans that came out of his mouth in tandem with your moans. The feeling of you clenching so tightly around him sent a shiver down his spine, and before he knew it, he was leaning into you, kissing you deeply, messily as he chased his own release.

You held him tightly, tiny squeals muffling against his lips as he kept his relentless pace. The sudden sting of your nails trailing down his back was the final push he needed. Minho saw white for a brief moment, groaning and grunting and maybe even moaning at the feel of your teeth sinking on his bottom lip, at the feel of your hands on his back, and your hips flush to his as he filled the condom inside of you–the only physical barrier between his body and yours.

All that pent up tension he’d been harbouring for months and months seemed to quickly evaporate from his muscles as he melted into you, into your kiss and your tight hug. His ears were ringing a bit, but he didn’t mind. All he could care about was the fact that you were right there, pressed completely against him.

After he left one more kiss on your lips, he pulled back just enough to look at you. You smiled at him, a genuine smile that had his heart skipping every other beat inside his ribcage. He returned the gesture, just as you brought your hand to push his now soaked fringe away from his forehead, pulling him down to press a kiss right there, making him chuckle in disbelief.

Once he pulled himself away from you completely, he carefully slid the condom off of his length, tying a knot to make sure nothing spilled out. Taking the discarded foil packed, he placed it on your nightstand and laid the condom on top of it to dispose of later.

As he laid back down, he simply looked at you. You had that look in your eyes, the one you hardly ever showed to the people around you… Vulnerability. Minho always saw it after you two had sex, and he knew that under that vulnerability there was something, many unsaid words that you wouldn’t dare say out loud to him.

“Marry me”, Minho broke the silence, and you huffed an incredulous chuckle.

“Aren’t you tired of asking me to marry you?”

“Are you tired of me asking you to marry me?”

You went silent for a moment, just looking into his eyes. Minho didn’t really need you to respond, he knew what the answer was.

“No, I’m not”, you replied simply, exactly what he knew you would say. “How would we even make a marriage work? We can’t even make a relationship work, Lee Minho”.

“We’ve never tried”.

It was true. Although the connection he shared with you was laps more than physical, you’d never entertained the possibility of a relationship. You hadn’t let him try, and he hadn’t been persistent–sure, he asked you to marry him every other encounter you had, but he never really pushed it. Because he knew it was a complex situation, him being an outlaw, a pirate, a rebel, and you being a smuggler, both probably with hefty bounties on your heads.

“Do you want to try?” you sounded genuinely incredulous, almost as if you had just realised that he was being genuine about it.

Minho propped his head on his elbow, just looking at you. And then it dawned on him. “You’ve never thought I was being serious when I asked you to marry me before, have you?”

You opened and closed your mouth a few times, but ultimately, you shook your head, and he couldn’t help but scoff, dropping his head back on the bed to stare at the ceiling.

“Well, I have been. Every time”.

“But why?” Your voice was barely a whisper, and when he turned to look at you his heart clenched just by seeing tears collect in your eyes. You didn’t let them fall, though.

“Because I love you”, Minho replied simply. “You’re clever, fun, one of the bravest people I’ve ever met, you’ve saved my life numerous times. Whenever I’m with you I feel at peace, and when I’m not, I worry about you, about your health, or I wonder if you’re out there getting yourself in trouble and I’m not there to help… I’ve just… Been in love with you for years, and I can’t keep on going pretending that I’m not. That I’m okay leaving your bed or an inn or you leaving my ship as if I don’t want you to stay”.

Minho could feel the lump in his throat, the way his voice shook slightly, but he didn’t care. He needed to let those thoughts out now, otherwise he wasn’t sure how long it would be until he got this boost of courage again. He honestly hadn’t even realised how much he’d been hurting with this until the words came out of his mouth. He’d spent years pretending this arrangement was fine. It clearly wasn’t. At least not anymore.

You went quiet for a while. A long while. Minho was honestly starting to second-guess ever opening his mouth, and it was just as he was about to stand up from that bed that you finally moved, wrapping one of your arms around his waist and burying your face in his chest.

“I hadn’t thought… I didn’t think…” You were rambling, your voice was muffling against his skin, it was hard to understand anything you were saying with the verbiage that was coming out of your mouth

“Hey… It’s okay”, Minho dragged his hands up and down your spine, hugging you even tighter against him, effectively stopping your ramble. “Breathe…”

You took a deep breath, draping your leg over his hips and pulling him even closer to you, which did ease his worries a bit–at least you weren’t kicking him out of your bed just yet.

“You smell nice…” You mumbled suddenly, rubbing your face on his chest. It immediately made his heart race and his chest flush. Minho wanted to say something, but honestly, the words were stuck in his throat, suddenly feeling bashful, as if he wasn’t naked on your bed after having sex with you.

When you finally pulled away from his chest, you looked him in the eyes, looking incredibly vulnerable. Minho simply brought a hand to your cheek, feeling your heated skin under his palm as his thumb moved back and forth.

“Minho… Every time you go, every time I leave, my heart just hurts so much. And I honestly don’t know how to deal with it. With my feelings, or how we could even make this work”.

“I’m sure we can figure something out… Maybe not today, maybe not even this week, but I’m sure we can”.

You closed your eyes then, heaving a sigh. “You know this isn’t gonna be easy, right?”

“I’m aware”, Minho’s lips quirked up a bit, suddenly amused by your choice of words, and he couldn’t help but bring even more clarity to it. “It hasn’t been easy until now, either, has it?” You gave him a smile as well, opening your eyes again. “I’m willing to take my chances. I… Really want to try”.

Your gaze flickered between his eyes for a bit, and then you were leaning in, pressing a tender, brief kiss on his lips.

“I want that, too”, you whispered, pecking his lips once again, murmuring the most tender ‘I love you’ as you hugged him even tighter, making Minho go impossibly redder, making his heart beat so fast he thought it would leap out of his chest. “If you don’t come back alive from your insane borderline suicide mission, I’ll personally go to the afterlife and kill you again”.

Minho chuckled, pecking your lips. “If you help me then you can make sure I don’t die at all, sweetheart”.

“Huh, so that’s why you’re here now professing your love to me? Trying to seduce me into helping you fulfil your pirate affairs?” Pushing him to lay on his back, you got on top of him, kissing him time and time again. His heart felt as if it was ready to burst, and for a brief moment, it was almost as if everything was okay. As if everything would be fine.

“Need I remind you you brought me into this room yourself?” With a hand on your bum and the other on the back of your neck, Minho simply kept kissing you, uncaring of anything happening outside of these walls.

“Don’t change the topic”.

“Is it working, though? Am I successfully seducing you?”

You scoffed at that, pressing one loud, final kiss on his lips before you shuffled around, sitting on him, straddling his hips, and placing your hands on his chest. “Of course I’m gonna fucking help you, Lee Minho. But not because you’ve got the best stroke game I’ve ever experienced, but because I stupidly believe in your cause”.

“Gods… Keep inflating my ego, please”, Minho couldn’t help but groan. His hands immediately found your hips, kneading the soft flesh there. “I just love it when you do”.

“I know you do”, you grinned, dragging one of your hands all over his flushed chest, up his neck, finally settling it on his cheek.

Minho caught your hand in his, keeping it in place as he turned to press a kiss to your palm. Your gaze shifted then, that playful glint you usually had when you teased him replaced by something else, something akin to love, maybe even hope. And in that moment, he seriously believed everything would be okay. That he’d be able to save his friends, free the slaves, and make it out alive. That he’d finally get to truly be by your side.

Tagging: @raspbinniecreme · @staaa96 · @oiminho · @tasteleeknow · @biribarabiribbaem · @dearalice · @alexis-reads-fics · @xcookiemonsteer · @knowleeknow · @chanlovesme · @liminaldaydream · @sstarryreads · @svngiem · @notastraykid · @princelingperfect · @aestheticsluut · @skzhomiehopper users in purple can’t be tagged. If you want to be removed (or if i tagged you incorrectly) from the list just PM me. If you want to be added fill in this form~

Constructive feedback (or even keysmashes, really) is always welcome :)

#lee know smut #lee know fanfiction #lee know fic #lee know x reader #minho x reader #minho smut #minho fanfiction #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfiction #skz x reader #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #stray kids au #✨🌙✏

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onna-musha-mari · 2 months ago

Text

𝟙𝟚 𝔻𝕒𝕪𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕊𝕖𝕝𝕗𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕡𝕞𝕒𝕤

𝕕𝕖𝕔. 𝟚𝟜 ✧ 𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝕖𝕝𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟 ✧ 𝕨𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕓𝕒𝕝𝕝

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕃𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕊𝕨𝕒𝕟

ℙ𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘/ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣: William J. Moriarty x Eliza Swan (s/i) (Moriarty the Patriot)

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕤: 794

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: fluff, mentions of murder/poisoning (casual Lord of Crime stuff), cursing, not proofread

𝔸𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣𝕤 ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖𝕤: Another one that I instantly knew which character/pairing I wanted when I read the prompt. Adding this really quick, when I made Eliza I completely forgot about the Pirates of the Caribbean character who has a similar name, I did not base her off said character and all similarities are purely coincidental. Christmas light dividers by @tsunami-of-tears

William stood near a table, looking out the windows of the estate. He had been invited to a Christmas party held by one of the nobles in his, ‘circle’. He would much rather be anywhere else. His classroom, his study, his room, anywhere not surrounded by nobles who thought they were better than anyone else just because they were born into their wealth, their name, their power.

“Ahem,” the young man at the top of the staircase cleared his throat, about to announce the name of the next guest who had arrived.

“Lady Eliza Mellisa Swann”

Now, there’s a face he absolutely needed to see, Eliza M. Swann, or, as he also knew her, The Black Swan, someone who shared his ambitions, his goals, his heart. She walked down the steps, her green gown matching her eye color, her red hair pinned up with a silver hair pin, one with a Swan. He should know, he bought it for her.

Now, Miss Swan was a well known noblewoman, single at the age of 24, no husband, engagement, or courtship with anyone. It doesn’t help that she was lovely to look at, striking red hair, soft hair, kind eyes, William didn’t blame others for finding her attractive.

But there was a side he got to see of her that others didn’t, she was a brilliant chemist, using her toxins and chemicals in helping fulfill his punishments as the Lord of crime. She was brilliant, stubborn, and a bit of a smart ass at times, but she was also his. They couldn’t risk being ‘official’, rather, William didn’t want her to face any consequences when he finally reveals himself to the world as the Lord of Crime. It was one thing for them to be known as friends when it happens, but if they were courting, or married, then it would only turn out worse for her in the end.

But that was not what he was focused on, William was focused on Eliza, suddenly forgetting why he wanted to leave this Christmas Party. Finding a reason to stay as long as he would be allowed.

A bit later into the night, the orchestra played a waltz, and William spotted Eliza dancing with an older nobleman. William set his glass down on one of the waiters trays, moving onto the ball floor as he made his way up to Eliza and her dance partner.

William tapped her shoulder gently, “If it is not a bother, may I steal you away Lady Swan?”

“Lord Moriarty, I would not mind at all.”

The gentleman let he go, finding other dance partner as William and Eliza held each other close, dancing in a slow rhythm.

“I did not know you were going to be here Lord Moriarty, I would’ve come earlier to enjoy your company.”

“You need not have to worry about missing out on my company, you may have that whenever you wish, Ellie.”

Eliza chuckled to herself, swaying with the orchestral music.

“Someone’s bold, you cheeky little bastard.”

“Maybe it’s the festivities, makes me feel like a bit of a romantic, I apologize if my words are too forward, Lady Swan”

Too forward, ha, like they haven’t spent evenings at his manor, with William’s head in her lap as they would take turns reading to the other. Simply enjoying each other’s company. Or the times they would rest against each other by the fireplace, a blanket over both of their laps.

“Not to forward at all, Liam.”

Once the dance had ended, the two found themselves together alone in one of the balconies. Looking out at the gentle snowfall the barley coated the ground.

“I must admit, I do love this time of year, the parties, the food, all of it. Christmas is the only time of year I go to a ball and not wish I could just go back to my lab.”

William smiled at her words, understanding her thoughts.

“I do suppose it as a certain charm to it.”

William noticed Eliza looked a little cold, so he draped his coat over her shoulders.

“Thank you.”

“Of course, you looked like you needed it more than I.”

“William?”

“Yes Eliza?”

She rested her head on his shoulder, the noise from the party inside being drowned out by their synchronized breathing.

“I enjoy this…these little moments.” Eliza softly told him, keeping her head in place.

“I do too. I’m lucky I get to have them with you my beloved.”

“You’re certainly a bold one tonight.”

“I simply love the face you make whenever I call you that.”

“Oh stop.”

William laughed and kissed her temple, rubbing her hands with his to keep them warm, “Merry Christmas my beloved”

“Merry Christmas too you to my love”

#12 days of selfshipmas #f/o community #william james moriarty #moriarty the patriot #oc x canon #Liam ❤️ 📖

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oldermenaremyreligion · 2 years ago

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Outbreak Day

Pairing daryll x platonic!reader (at the end)

Warning english is not my first language, fluff, angst, wound, sickness, character death, gun, blood, walker, dead dog :(

Summary day of the outbreak for the reader

Notes This can be read as a stand alone or as a prequel to Mornin' Sunchine

Word Count 2052

You had planned to go and spend the day at the mall with your sister after school. You had promised your sister that once you had a day off two of you would get to go to the mall, and today was the day.

Since both your mom and your dad had died in a plane crash just months after your sister was born both of you were left to live with your uncles. Not that you were ungrateful that your uncles took you in but you and your sister knew that it was never going to feel like home. The day that you left your home to live by yourself you promised your sister that once you got your life together you were going to take her in and the two of you were going to live together. And that is exactly what you did.

After you were able to find a stable job and find a nice home at a trailer park you made sure to win the custody of your sister. Because your salary was good enough for the two of you, you were able to afford to live with your sister. Even though most of the time you had to go and work extra hours.

Right beside your trailer, there was a trailer where the two Dixon brothers lived. Since the first day you moved in there, the Dixon brothers made it their mission that no harm was gonna come to you. When you were not home they made sure that no one broke in or that no one sketchy even glanced into your trailer. You were grateful for them because you worked for most of the day, your sister found herself being home alone for at least three hours after school ended and you found yourself comforted by the fact that someone was looking out for her that you could trust.

Because of the trust you had in them, you found yourself inviting the Dixon brothers over every time you made a big enough meal. Or even you invited them over for the holidays since you knew that they had no family or people to spend time with.

Well, all of that brings you to today in which you had asked the Dixon brothers to watch over your house since you had left your dog (which you had adopted a few months back) inside the house. While you had the piece of mind that the dog was gonna be ok you left with your sister towards the mall. While you were on your way towards the mall you heard a lot of talk of current world news on the radio and decided to turn it off. You had promised your sister that the two of you were finally going to have a trip and you intended to keep the promise.

When you finally arrived at the parking lot you quickly found a parking space and parked there. As you shifted the key to turn off your car you turned towards your sister who was sitting in the backseat.

“You know how I told you that I was going to take you out since I've been working too much?”

You asked your sister with a grin on your face.

“Yeah…” Said your sister skeptically.

“Well, today is the day.”

“Really?” She asked excitedly.

“Yeah pick out anything you want and I’ll pay for it”

In reality, you had saved up a lot of money by cutting down some expenses and tightening your budget so that you could give her this day. But just seeing the smile that she gave you as you told her the news made it all worth it.

As you entered the mall the first place that your sister decided to go was to the clothing store. In the clothing store, you looked at the joy on your sister's face as she scanned the wide variety of clothes in the store. Your sister looked at you for approval to wander around the store and you nodded your head at her.

As she walked around the store looking for clothes you found yourself doing the same thing. You started looking through the racks trying to find clothes that your sister would like but you ended up giving up since you weren't sure what she even liked these days. You then decided to go to the jewelry section of the store and look for a little bracelet or something to buy for her.

As you picked out a bracelet you thought she would like, you quickly went to the register and bought it before your sister could notice. You wanted it to be a surprise. When you had paid for the bracelet you put it in your purse and went to look for your sister.

Your eyes wandered around the store until you found her head and you started to walk towards her. When you approached her she was looking at a very nice-looking black dress but you noticed there was a conflict on her face.

“What’s wrong?” You asked her with concern.

“Nothing, it's just that I like this dress.”

“Then why the face?”

“Look,” Your sister said as she grabbed the price tag and showed you the price. You put your hand on the price tag and covered it.

“Don’t look at the price of the stuff, if you like it just get it”

Your sister's eyes shined as she looked at you giving you a tight smile.

When your sister had picked out everything she wanted you two headed toward the cashier to pay for the stuff. Once you had paid for the stuff you asked her if she wanted to get ice cream and she nodded. As you were in line to get the ice cream your sister told you she had to run to the bathroom quickly.

As your sister was in the bathroom you went ahead and bought yourself and your sister each an ice cream cone. As you stood there you saw that your sister came back from the bathroom holding her hand as if she was hurt. You went up to her and asked her what had happened.

“Nothing there was this random little kid that was being aggressive.”

“Was the mom there?” You asked.

“Yeah, she was the one that got him off of me.”

“She needs to get that kid under control.” You added and your sister nodded at your comment.

You noticed that she had a pretty nasty bite mark and that she was no longer in the mood to be in the mall. You gave her the ice cream and some napkins to put on her wound. You told her that it was best to head home since you were feeling a little tired. She gave you a smile and the two of you headed towards the car to go to your home.

In the car, you took the opportunity to give her the bracelet that you had bought her secretly.

“Look I got something for you,” You told your sister and you reached into your purse and pulled out the bracelet.

“Omg that you so much,” Your sister said to you as she reached over to get it from you.

“You can wear it for school,” You said as you looked over at her to see the excitement on her face.

When you got home you noticed that your sister seemed tired as usual so you helped her clean the wound and told her to go to sleep. As you were putting her to sleep you noticed that she seemed a little warm.

You didn’t have any insurance so you decided to just give her some medicine since it always helped bring her fever down. After you gave her the medicine you left the door in her room since that is where the room always slept.

While she was sleeping you put your headphones on and started to listen to some music on your iPod while you checked over all of the mail that you had on your table. Most of the mail you had in there was just bills. Most of the time calculating the bills took you hours which this time also took you the same amount of time.

It was dark at night and you were still in the process of calculating all of the stuff that you had to pay when suddenly someone came barging through your door. You jumped and took your headphones off and calmed down realizing that it was only Daryl. Your calmness quickly faded away as you noticed the face of concern that Daryl had on his face.

“What’s going on?” You asked Daryl with concern, seeing the panicked expression on his face.

“Ya gotta start packin’ we gotta go”

“What happened, Merle get in trouble again?”

“Nah there’s something bad happening’”

You decided to not ask him no more because you knew he wouldn’t give you a straight answer. So you agreed because of the urgency in his tone. You told him to stay there for a moment while you woke up your sister. As you entered your sister’s room you noticed that she wasn’t in her bed. You felt your heart drop as you smelled the strong scent of fresh blood. You started to hear the sound of munching and you started to walk slowly toward the other side of the bed which was currently out of your view.

When you were able to finally see what was going on you were met with a gruesome sight. You saw your sister hunched over your dog’s body munching on his flesh. You let out a loud gasp and your sister looked up at you. Only this time it was not your sister. What used to be your sister had a white glaze over her eyes and she looked at you like she wanted to eat you. She quickly stood up and started to walk fast towards you. You started to walk backward and fell with a thud. Your sister was able to get on top of you and tried snapping her teeth at you.

While you were struggling and crying a gunshot sounded and your sister dropped to the floor limp. You quickly sat up crying and went over to your sister’s body. You looked back at where the gunshot came from and you noticed Merle with a shotgun. You started screaming at him and yelling at him for killing your sister. Daryll came from behind him bumping shoulders with him while Merle stood there in shock.

Daryll walked up to you and started asking you if she had bitten you. You couldn’t hear what he was saying as the only thing you could focus on was the sight of your sister’s dead body. Daryll grabbed his hands on your face and made you look at him and kept asking you the same question.

“she bite ya anywhere”

“Are ya hurt?”

When you were finally able to hear what he was saying you answered him by shaking your head but he still checked your arms. As he was checking them you kept asking him what was going on. He stopped what he was doing and looked over at your sister’s dead body.

You quickly understood what he was saying and muffled a sob. He just grabbed your shoulder and tried to usher you out of that place.

“Come on we gotta go” He kept insisting.

“No please I can't leave her here” You sobbed as you tried to reach over your sister’s dead body.

“There’s nothin’ else ya can do for her”

Eventually, you realize that Daryl was right and that she was gone. You put your hand over your mouth to stifle another sob and let Daryl take you away.

Daryll led you to his pickup truck where Merle was on the driver's side with a concerned face. Daryll put you in the back seat beside the guns that he had collected from his shed. He then proceeded to sit in the passenger seat. Merle just started to drive off and the only thing that you could do was sit there in shock looking out the window while your mind just kept playing back the picture of your sister's dead body on the floor.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x platonic!reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon angst #angst #twd x reader #the walking dead #twd angst #oldermenaremyreligion

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sweetestpopcorn · 1 year ago

Note

Your fic is THE BEST fic I have ever read! And your writting style is amazing, thank you for sharing your art with the fandom. ❤️

Btw I love Baela and Rhaena, do you some headcanons about the twins?

Hi there <333

Aww thank you so much! ❤️ I don't know if I would call it art though XD I definitely do not see myself as an artist of any kind, I'm just someone having fun. But people like you definitely make me not regret sharing my fics with the world 😂

Hum... I can't say I have too many headcanons about the twins. For once, I think both are very well developed in the books, and then I think I'm just so interested about Daemyra, Aegon III, and Viserys II and others that to me they kind of fall in the sideline sorry.

But ok let me search the back of my head XD

Btw, needless to say but I'm only referring to the asoiaf version of the twins. All my asks relate to either the asoiaf characters or to how I write the characters, though unless stated, it's about the asoiaf canon version.

Beginning with the oldest of the two, Baela Targaryen.

Baela Targaryen:

-After Rhaenyra was killed and her brother Aegon III was imprisoned with her, Baela did her best to protect him, promising him that he would be king. She would tell him that he had to be strong, and that their father had always wanted him to become the king;

-She mourned Jacaerys in private but never forgot him. Whenever she and Alyn had more heated fights she would drop Jacaerys's name and tell Alyn he wasn't half the man the prince she was meant to have married was;

-She mocked Alicent with her cousins and sister and thought she was ridiculous. Once Joffrey teased her by saying she had something in common with Alicent since she had a green dragon. Needless to say he only did it once;

-Usually she and Jace were the ones who had to take care of Aegon III and Viserys II. While she always complained, she liked children more than she would admit;

-Like Daemon she was easily bored, and though she was very smart, she only really tried or devoted herself to something if she liked it;

-When Rhaenyra was first introduced to her, her mother Laena mentioned that she had been the youngest dragonrider there was memory of, having taken her dragon to the sky at 7. That made Baela both like her and respect her;

-She would run away and be with the boys whenever Rhaenyra and Rhaena were making new dresses and being visited by merchants as she wanted nothing to do with those things;

-Some of the earliest memories she had of her mother were actually of Rhaenyra since Baela was only three when she died. Rhaenyra knew but never told her because she wanted Baela to have memories of Laena;

-The only piece of jewellery she would let Rhaenyra put on her was the Jade Tiara;

Ok, this is more than I thought I had XD on to Rhaena;

Rhaena Targaryen:

-She was much more shrewd than she let on but she acted charming and innocent to get her way;

-She loved to try on Rhaenyra's jewels and would often parade herself around Dragonstone with them. Daemon would tease her saying she was more jewels than girl;

-Once Luke teased her by saying that Aegon was prettier than her and Baela. Needless to say he never did so again;

-Luke once said that when she and Baela were angry they were as scary as his uncle Daemon. Joffrey disagreed, he said they were scarier;

-She was enchanted when Aegon and Viserys was born, and with the latter, she made Luke pretend that he was their son. When she got bored with the babies though, which happened pretty fast, she would give them over to Baela and she would leave;

-When Rhaenyra first married Daemon, Rhaena offered her to call her mother but Rhaenyra rejected saying that her mother was Laena and it should remain so. At the time Rhaena didn't understood why and felt a little rejected, but after she herself became a mother she understood;

-She loved Queen Rhaenys;

-Her favourite colour was pink which was why she choose a pink egg that would later hatch and become Morning;

And that's it XD

Hope it's something, if not, I tried.

All the best to you 😊

#baela targaryen #canon baela targaryen #rhaena targaryen #canon rhaena targaryen #baela of pentos #rhaena of pentos #the daughters of the rogue prince #the princess and the queen #fire and blood #pre asoiaf #house targaryen #this concerns the asoiaf version of the twins only #no redacted here #this is a redacted free post and my blog a redacted free blog #because I don't like trash #just a friendly reminder #headcanons #popcorn answers

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waterfallofspace · 2 years ago

Text

A Continuation

Part two of ~this story~ I posted before. I just couldn’t leave it on angst, without any comfort?? Soooo~ this was born. There’s still a touch of angst/worry, but I promise it’s mostly comfort this time! <;3 (You shouldn’t have to read the first to understand it, but it will provide a bit of context for some things!) As always, thank you to anyone who bothers to read this, and I hope you enjoy!! (also for anyone who’s sent requests, dw I am ABOSLUTELY working on those, and thank you DEEPLY for sending them, I’m having a blast writing so much <3) [ Merde = Shit ] [ À tes souhaits = Bless you ] - French Things Characters: C/huuya, D/azai, and a bunch of chemistry. Word Count: 2.1k (References to mild violence, high fevers, and swearing, just in case anyone doesn’t like any of those!)

~~~~~~~ The rain beats down against the awning as Dazai manages to pull Chuuya’s drenched form into the lobby, cursing lightly under his breath. This is quite the feat considering how soaked he also is, each step seeming to create a new puddle.

“heh’AIYshhh’AA-!”

And then there’s that. Every sneeze seems to shake Chuuya to the core, leaving Dazai with the job of studying him before he tips them both over. ‘He lives on the third floor- we’re gonna have to take the elevator. I simply don’t have the strength to carry him up three flights of stairs if he can’t do it alone.’

“We’re gonna get in the elevator, alright?”

There’s no response, but Dazai didn’t expect one. The fever alone would be enough to make anyone disoriented, but the medication kicking in, mixed with him being chilled to the bone, has left Chuuya with almost no cognizance.

“I’m hitting the button for floor three, we’re almost back. Just hold out a little longer, okay?”

Normally this soft tone would be reserved for manipulation, used only to set someone off guard. Dazai isn’t exactly the warm and fuzzy type, and he’s especially not the type to let genuine concern show unless it directly benefits his plan.

‘And yet… No matter. He’s way too out of it to be able to remember anything I’ve said once the fever breaks. So… just for now…’ Dazai allows, a hand lightly brushing the hair from Chuuya’s face, wincing yet again at the warmth that meets him.

“eH’KAZZshhh’AA-!

“À tes souhaits, Chuuya.”

“Merci..”

It’s hoarse, and leaves him coughing, but it’s a response. A sigh breaks free from Dazai’s clenched teeth, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. Chuuya is still able to, at least to some degree, process what he’s saying. ‘Also note to self, when delirious from fever or distracted, Chuuya will respond to French in kind. That could be quite entertaining one of these days.’

“hAH’KETchhh’AA-!”

“Almost there, do you have your key on you?”

All he gets in response is a hazy look, Chuuya’s nose scrunching as he lets out a faint gasp. Chuckling lightly, Dazai leans him against the wall, pulling out a bobby pin.

“I’ll take that as permission to pick the lock. Bless you, by the way.”

“AIIESHH’AA-! hehHh- huh’KETCH’aa-!”

Chuuya managed to bring his gloves up in time, but Dazai notices the way the wet fabric serves only to irritate his nose further. ‘Better get him out of those clothes fast. He’s sick enough as it is, don’t need this developing into pneumonia… again… that was a rough week.’ With that, Dazai hears a click, and swings open the apartment door, practically shoving Chuuya inside.

“Now then! I am drenched, and so are you, so I’d really like to change. I know where your clothes are, but any specific preference for what I dress myself in? I’ll admit, I don’t share your taste for designer brands, so… you got any sweats laying around here?”

“Bedroom..? ehH’gnSHHH’aa-!”

It’s a question, not an answer, but Dazai rolls with it, tossing a blessing over his shoulder as he turns away. Strolling past the bathroom, he ducks in and grabs a couple towels. Once in the bedroom, he searches Chuuya’s closet until he finds a suitable hoodie and some pants, grabbing the same for the ill man still standing in the hallway, shivering.

“Dry yourself off with the towel then put these on. I’d suggest a shower, but I don’t think the medication has taken hold enough to guarantee you won’t pass out. As much as I’d love to see Chuuya naked, picking him up off the floor isn’t exactly what I have in mind.”

Chuuya manages to glare at him through the haze, but he takes the pile and sloshes off to the bathroom. Dazai ducks back into the bedroom to change, sighing as the wet clothes leave his skin. A few faint sneezes echo from the bathroom, Dazai making a slight face at the quality of them. ‘They’re softer… growing tired, or something else..?’

He lets a smile slip out at the sensation of the soft hoodie against his skin, the smell soaked into it distinctly Chuuya. Hesitating for a minute as his fingers graze his soaked bandages, he risks a glance at the door. ‘I should really take them off… but I didn’t bring fresh ones with me…’

“Hey idiot, I’m coming in so you better be decent.”

“Really, Chuuya? With all the crimes we’ve committed? I doubt we’ll ever be called anything near decent again.”

A sigh is the only response, along with a sound that might have been Chuuya punching the wall. He opens the door regardless, making a noise of relief upon seeing Dazai clothed. Dazai takes in the quality of his face. ‘Nose is still pink, and there’s a slight flush in his cheeks that I don’t think was just from my witty remarks, but his face has lost the pale tint. His voice sounds better too, still rough around the edges, but audible.’

“Are you just gonna stand there staring, slug? Shit- eH’HAIIYSHH’AA-! hh’kETSHHAA-!”

“À tes souhaits.”

“Shut up.”

“And to answer your earlier question, what else should I be doing?”

Chuuya doesn’t respond, but Dazai can feel his gaze as it analyzes him. ‘Fair is fair, I suppose.’ Finally Chuuya seems to come to a conclusion, turning on his heel and rushing back into the kitchen. Dazai stands for a minute, curiosity filling his mind, but also certain there was no invitation to follow offered.

“Here.”

A roll of bandages hits Dazai’s chest, his hands just managing to catch them. Chuuya’s avoiding eye contact, but there’s a slightly darker pink tint adorning his ears.

“Figured you’d need them. Just- don’t go looking through my shit while you change.”

“Oh Chuuya! You know I can make no such promise! So… why don’t you keep an eye on me, make sure I’m minding my own business.”

The invitation is clear, and Chuuya’s eyes flick down to the bandages lining Dazai’s arms, before giving a silent nod, and seating himself on the bed. A wave of nausea flashes through Dazai at the idea of changing them in front of someone, but a glance over to Chuuya’s soft expression is all it takes to fend it off. Neither says a word as he changes them, not even when he can’t reach his back and Chuuya’s hands slip against his to help.

“hAH’AIISHH’AA-!”

“À tes souhaits, Chuuya.”

“Why do you say that?”

Sufficiently bandaged up, Dazai saunters out of the bedroom, aiming for the couch in the living room and flicking on the tv. Chuuya stands in the middle of the floor, a slight tremble still gripping his weak form.

“Say what?”

“Y- you know what I’m talking about you jackass! Don’t make me say it…”

“I think that’s exactly the point. You do say it. When you’re at ease, or flustered, frustrated, in practically any Chuuya mood, you slip into french.”

The response is apparently sufficient, Chuuya offering a light huff, but not pressing the matter. Dazai continues searching the channels, stopping on some garbage home renovation show that neither of them could give a shit about. Without glancing at Chuuya, he pulls a blanket off the back of the couch, draping it over his legs, and silently opening one corner.

“It’s my damn couch.”

Is the growled response, but despite the tone, Chuuya slides under the blanket anyways, neither of them missing the shudder that runs through him at the newfound warmth. Dazai lets his eyes brush over Chuuya’s body, noticing the way he keeps a gap of air practically buzzing with anger between them. ‘Despite nullification or my predictions allowing me access past most barriers, this is one wall even I can’t scale.’

Turning his attention back to the show, Dazai catches Chuuya rubbing his throat again in his periphery. ‘I don’t think he even knows he’s doing it. Must still be sore. I believe the medication has taken the fever down, and his voice sounds better, but it’s not a miracle drug, Chuuya’s still sick.’ Letting his eyes drift over once more, Dazai examines the gaze Chuuya’s aiming near the tv. While the fever delirium seems to be slipping, the medication does tend to cause drowsiness, and it seems Chuuya is not immune.

“hAH’AISHH’AA-! knNGSHH’iuh-! Ow… heHh-! hh’AIZYSHH’AA-! Merde…”

“I don’t know why you do that.”

The genuine tone catches them both off guard, Chuuya’s eyes snapping to him, Dazai’s suddenly finding the floor incredibly interesting.

“Do what? Sneeze? Maybe because I’m fucking sick?”

“No, not that, you just… you yell… while you’re sneezing. You didn't do it when you were alone earlier. It adds this harsh quality and… that’s just gotta hurt, doesn’t it?”

Risking a glance, he’s met with Chuuya’s cloudy eyes, a warmth spreading deeper through the fevered man’s cheeks, leaping up to touch the tips of his ears. Turning his focus back on the tv to give him a touch of privacy, Dazai offers one last statement, flushing a touch at the genuine tone that he just can’t seem to shake.

“I’m just saying, it can’t feel good. And… it’s just me here. That’s all.”

“Yeah whatever, slug.”

Some host talking about drywall cuts through the silence that’s fallen, until Chuuya raises a hand to his face, breath catching in his throat. Dazai is careful not to stare, but his eyes do flicker over at the gentle nature of the fit.

“heHhH-! heH’ieshh’oo-! keschh’oo-!”

“Bless you, Chuuya.”

“hH’ESHchh’aa-! hePT’ING’shhoo-! eh’tischh’iuh-! heh’GNkt’shoo-!”

A gentle smile graces Dazai’s features for just a second, meeting Chuuya’s cautious gaze. The unasked question is clear, ‘Was that okay?’ In response, Dazai hums softly, letting a yawn escape with a stretch, before leaving his arm on top of the couch. He’s careful not to make contact with Chuuya, but it does leave an opening, of which they’re both deeply aware.

‘It’s a bit like taming a wild animal. Chuuya’s cautious, ready to run or fight, expecting to get cornered at any second. You have to be slow, careful, give him space to make the move himself. Give him the security of being the one to choose it.’

Sure enough, as Dazai’s finishing up his analysis, he feels Chuuya’s head pressed into his lap, the smaller man curling into a fetal position under the blanket with a shiver. Careful to keep his face calm, Dazai lifts his hand, letting it rest gently on Chuuya’s head. A deep flinch speeds through the sick man at the contact, so Dazai lifts it once more.

“eH’Kngt’shiuh-! eishhh’oo-! heh’mmpshh’oo-!”

“À tes souhaits, once more.”

“Merci, Dazai…”

Dazai’s eyes never leave the tv, though for the life of him, he couldn’t tell you what’s happening on it. All of his focus is in his arms, feeling the way Chuuya trembles against him with the small fit. Despite his best efforts, he casts a glance down to Chuuya as he feels skin touching his, Chuuya’s hand slowly bringing his own back down into his hair.

“Okay?”

It’s barely a whisper, and hoarse enough to have Chuuya wincing as it passes his lips, but Dazai feels it pierce right through to his heart. He thinks about answering, but any noise he could make feels too intrusive, so instead he lets his fingers start massaging through the hair. Getting a faint sigh for his efforts, Dazai allows a smile to spill out over his face as Chuuya’s eyes slip closed with an airy hum, before a wrist is brought up to his twitching nose.

“hePT’KNgieew-! eh’ieshh’oo-! keschhh’oo-!”

“Bless you.”

Letting his hands slide to Chuuya’s face, Dazai offers a gentle massage to his sinuses. The touch elicits a faint moan, Chuuya sniffling wetly immediately, the shifting congestion offering some relief from the headache he’s been fighting. Dazai feels his mind start to drift again. ‘This form of Chuuya… this is the real one. The soft one… the gentle one, the one that’s nervous all the time but relaxes at the touch of someone he trusts… no one else gets to see this Chuuya. This is my Chuuya.’

“D- Dazai… heH-!”

“Go ahead, it’s okay.” “N- nehHh-! No, t- tiiehhh… tissues!”

Dazai grabs a handful from beside the couch, starting to hand them over as Chuuya takes them greedily, burying his nose into the pile as the sneezes start flowing out.

“hEH’IZDjshh’oo-! keZZYshh’oo-! eh’hDJYzshh’iuh-! eh’dTJZSH’yuu-!”

“Jeez, bless you Chuuya.”

“It’s your own damn fault, you… loosened it up..”

“I’m not judging. You heard me when I had the flu a couple months back..? Now that was disgusting.”

Chuuya cringes at the memory, lightly punching Dazai’s chest for the reminder. Dazai lets out a laugh in turn, letting his fingers rest on Chuuya’s cheeks again, a question raised. The nod he gets in response is his answer, and he continues his gentle ministrations. ‘Fever hasn’t broken yet, just the medication suppressing it, if he doesn’t get some sleep it’ll come back.’

“Rest now, Chuuya. I’ve got you.”

A hum comes from the sick man in his arms, his eyes still shut, sleep starting to seep into his voice as he attempts to respond, barely managing a few words before congested snores take over.

“I know you do… partner.”

#waterfallwrites #i just had to give them some cute moments i had to #i love them so much it felt wrong to leave it angsty hehehe #hope someone enjoys this hahaha~~#s/oukoku #d/azai #c/huuya #b/sd #my beloveds i adore them so im gonna keep writing them >:D #snz #snzkink #snzfic

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dallina17 · 2 years ago

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I am obsessed with the song Idol of Yoasobi (again) and now I am imagining an Idol AU of Neo based on Oshi no Ko. First, I want to clarify that this is not a RWBY as Oshi no Ko characters. I am taking some elements of Oshi no Ko and Neo is somewhat based on Ai's story, but more oriented to her motivations and feelings than... well, the whole having babies at 16 years and dying at 20's.

There is some death and trauma thou.

With that being said, lets start!

Neo was born the daughter of Carmel and Jimmy Vanille, Trivia Vanille. From a young age, it was clear she wasn't able to speak, something her parents always hated her for.

Her mother worked with Lil Miss Malachite on Malachite's productions. The daughters of Lil Miss, Melanie and Miltia, were child stars, and Jimmy and Carmel wanted Trivia to be a child star too but "how can she be a star if she isn't able to speak?". And, as if that wasn't enough, she had heterochromia that her parents forced her to hide with brown contact lenses.

Another person that worked with Malachite was his right-hand Roman Torchwick, who organized the films, series, music groups, and even sometimes had to babysit the little monsters called Melanie and Miltia.

Because Trivia couldn't be the star they wanted, her parents cast her aside and never showed her any form of love. She didn't have any friends in school and when she was accompanying her mother to the productions, Miltia and Melanie used to bully her.

This led to Trivia never knowing what it was to be loved or what it was to love someone.

Trivia desired to be a star. An idol like the ones she heard, maybe if she was, then her parents would start to love her. But how could she be one if she wasn't able to talk not to say sing?

Despite that, she was very good at dancing! And sometimes she read the scripts of films and pretended to be many characters, saying the dialogue with sign language. She was very skilled but no one noticed.

Until someone did.

Roman was told to keep an eye on Trivia, but unlike Melanie and Miltia that were two demons disguised as humans, Trivia was always calm, obedient, and sweet. They didn't have much interaction, but he had some fondness for her and soon noticed her talents being wasted.

One day, he told Lil Miss to include Trivia in one movie. It took some time, but, because she wasn't going to play any major role, she agreed. Carmel was even more reluctant, but ended up saying yes due to her boss asking it.

Trivia didn't know what to think. All her life she had been told she couldn't be a star because of her muteness. Her parents hated her for that. And now she was going to act in a movie? What if she messed this up? What if they hated her even more? Roman noticed her nervousness and told her she had nothing to be afraid of. He gave Trivia the courage she needed and she did an amazing performance.

The movie was a success, and a lot of people talked about the little mute girl who added more fright to a movie already terrific.

Trivia was happy with her performance and soon started to play in more series and films. Always minor roles, but it was enough, for once in her life she was appreciated, even if it came from strangers she didn't know and never from her parents. She was told that she was loved. If only she knew what it meant, if she could only feel it.

Roman took her as his apprentice, and they started getting together more and more. With time, Trivia spent more time in Roman's house than she did on her own. He taught her everything he knew, and the two of them became very close. He always congratulated Trivia, and she always felt happy when being around him. Comfortable. Appreciated in a way she never felt with her parents.

Roman adored the girl. She always listened to him and took his advice to heart. She was fun to be around, they shared meals, pretended to play music together, he even learned sign language to communicate with her better. Still, he never showed her how much he loved her.

Because like Trivia, he didn't know the meaning of love. He grew on an orphanage, abandoned by his mother. Never knowing what it was to feel loved and to love someone.

What if he said "I love you" and it was a lie? One he knew a lot of famous people said to please their fans? One he told Trivia it was okay to say?

He saw her dancing to the songs of the famous group STRQ, Trivia's favorite. Roman knew that she had nothing to envy from them, Trivia was skilled and talented, one of a kind. If she were to be an idol, she would be the best one the world had seen. So he proposed it to her.

Trivia thought he had lost his mind.

Trivia, signing: Me? An idol? That's not possible. It's one thing to act in minor roles but, being in a group? You know I am not able to speak. How would I even sing?

Roman: There is plenty of technology. I am sure you would find some gadget to make a synthetic voice. Besides, your muteness would make you unique, think about it "The idol who made her way through music despite her muteness"

Trivia, signing: ...Even if that is true, I sure wouldn't be able to love fans, and sure they wouldn't love me. Idols are people who say I love you to the fans and so on, but if I said that I would be lying. When people say they loved my performance is okay, I don't have to answer. But as an idol...

Roman: So what's the problem? Lying is okay. In fact, pretty lies is what the fans want. Lying is a talent, you know? Is okay, lie as much as you want.

Trivia, signing: Would it really be okay? It's okay if I said "I love you" even if it's a lie?

Roman: Yes. And you do want to love people, do you not? You just don't know how. If you sing and dance, that's a way to love fans. If you become an idol, your songs will be full of love words. Besides, the more you say you love them, the lie can become true.

Trivia deeply thought about it. Being an Idol was something she had forgotten a long time ago. Could she really become one? She loved to dance, she had never been able to sing, but what if Roman was right? What if she found a way? And to feel loved, to be able to love, if she became an idol, would she finally understand what it meant?

Finally, she agreed to Roman's proposal. The two of them made a deal: He would start his own company, and when Trivia was sixteen, she with other teenagers would form an idol group. Until that, she would practice to become the best idol she could.

Everything was perfect. For once, in her ten years of living, Trivia was able to dream of a bright future in the entertainment industry. She would become the idol she always dreamed of. And Roman would be by his side, Roman, the one she could trust, Roman, the one who had always supported her, Roman, the one thing she appreciated in a world she hated.

But the dream never was accomplished.

The day of her eleventh birthday she decided to spend it with Roman. Her parents made clear they had no time for a celebration, and she didn't mind, not anymore. The two were about to have lunch when the bell rang.

Roman opened the door. Someone stabbed him. Roman felt. The assassin tried to go against Trivia. They were about to stab her too when Roman took out his gun, shot, and killed them. Trivia called the ambulance, but it was too late.

His last moments Roman spend them hugging Trivia, was she okay? Was she not hurt? Ah. How glad was that he had taken her under his wing, taught her everything he could. All his life had been miserable, but she brought him a bright happiness he had never had before. She was going to become an idol right? How he wished he could be with her, guide her, see what kind of adult she would become. See her being the star he always knew she was. She might be Jimmy and Carmel's child, but she was like a daughter to him. His precious star.

He still had something to say to her before passing away. He hugged her more, placed a hand over her cheek, and said:

"Trivia, I love you"

He felt relief. He had been able to say it. That wasn't a lie. He loved her, he always had. He went in peace.

But Trivia was heartbroken. The only one that made her feel something positive, the only one who cared about her was gone. She wanted to kill the one who did it, but that person was already gone.

Or not?

From there I don't really know how the story goes. I know that Roman had a testament where he left everything he had to Trivia, she deduces that he knew someone was after him, and also realizes that the one who killed Roman was a hired assassin, so there is someone pulling the strings who wanted Roman death, and she decides that she will find them and kill them in vengeance.

He was a loner like her, so his only contacts were with the people he worked it. The people of the entertainment industry, so the person she was looking for had to belong there. If she wanted to find them, she had to be at the core of the entertainment industry.

So she decides to still become an idol, but this time not for knowing the meaning of love, but to find the real killer. She spent the next four years practicing and becoming skilled at dancing, she even got a gadget to emulate a voice for the singing part. Her parents were against that dream, so she decided that not even they would stop her revenge.

So she ran away, dyed half of her hair pink, stopped using contact lenses, and started living in the house that once belonged to Roman. She changed her name to Neopolitan. One year later, when she was sixteen, Evernight Studios were searching for four candidates to form an idol group. Evernight was one of the world's most famous if not the most famous company. If she got in, she would have it much easier to achieve her goal.

So she auditioned. Maybe her skills were not perfect, but everyone could see she was one of a kind. She wasn't only beautiful, but her mismatched eyes and hair drove attention everywhere. With her in the group, success was guaranteed. The only condition that the boss, Salem, put her, was that she had to pretend to have a voice all the time, she couldn't just use the gadget for singing, she had to use it all the time

Neo wasn't very happy with the idea, but if that was what was needed to accomplish her revenge, so be it. That was her first lie, the first of many.

She formed a group with Emerald, Mercury, and Cinder, and the four of them started their path to becoming stars.

From then I know even less. I don't know who send the assassin to kill Roman, but I know he left a letter for Neo that she finds after a long time, that made her realize he loved her, something that she forgot after all that time for being obsessed with her revenge. This helps her realize she had loved him too, even if she didn't know it at the moment.

Yang is the secret child of Raven and Tai, Ruby is the secret child of Summer and Tai. Summer is killed because of the same person that wanted Roman dead, an assassination attempt is what made Raven leave and disappear from the map.

Weiss's father has his own company, but Weiss chooses to join Ozpin's because she hates her dad and forms an idol group with Ruby, Blake, and Yang called RWBY.

Neo eventually reveals the secret of her voice and accepts her disability with pride.

The one pulling the strings tries to kill Cinder too, but she survives with half of her face burnt and without an arm. Neo saves her because she is not losing another person she loves to that psycho.

And of course, Neo's first "I love you" goes to her most dear friends, Emerald, Mercury, and Cinder.

#oshi no ko #rwby #rwby au #alternate universe #my au ideas #trivia vanille #neopolitan #roman torchwick #cinder fall #emerald sustrai #mercury black #idol au #Neo is a mix of Ai and Aqua #Roman is a mix of Ai and her producer #With an extra amount of pain because I say so #How much I want my Neo to suffer? Yes #But she will be okay eventually #I think #oshi no ko spoilers

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phoenixkaptain · 2 years ago

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If you don't mind me asking, who are your favorite romantic relationship's couples in books/ manga/ anime/movies/tv series (can be canon or non-canon)? Why do you love them? Sorry if you've answered this question before......Thanks....

This is a bit difficult for me because I am very particular about my romances. It took me a long time to come to terms with the fact that I myself don’t really want romance, so I’ve always gravitated to two types of couples. The type who are best friends / old married couples, ie: they’re comfortable with each other and know each other well, or the type who are almost immediately rabidly obsessed with each other. Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham come to mind.

I like couples where the woman plays the masculine role and the man plays the feminine one. (Mouri Ran and Kudou Shinichi are my primary example for this, because Ran is a Karate champion who can punch throw concrete and commonly acts more as a guard for other characters than a damsel and Shinichi is melodramatic and fixates on details and has a real talent for saying rude things in a cutesy voice. They’re each other’s hero a lot, rhey save one another a lot, and I like that dynamic of theirs)

I don’t really understand attraction based on sexual interest. Like, I don’t understand wanting to date someone just for sex. I get why people want to have sex, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t understand why people would ask someone out just for sex? Like, if you just want sex, just ask for sex straight out. Why’ve you gotta date for a while? I don’t really get it.

All that being said, my favourite couples are either very boring or extremely bizarre. I admit as much.

Like, I very much enjoy Marth / Caeda from Fire Emblem. They know each other and Marth got his little circlet from her and they have some very cute interactions! On the other hand, I also ship Marth / Michalis because Michalis made an offhand comment all of once about finding Marth terrible but begrudingly respecting him and all I could think of was “slowburn, enemies-to-lovers, 250k words)

I ship a lot of things and I ship characters with multiple other characters and I ship polycules. It’s pretty rare that I find a ship I actively dislike, actually. I’m just a bit too easygoing about it all. Even if I’m uninterested in a ship, I can be convinced if there’s cute art or something.

Ah, I miss the days when people wrote essays on why they shipped characters. I know it was mostly for queer romances, but those always helped me interpret what others saw as romantic. So many of those posts were so detailed and fun to read. Even if two characters barely interacted, I loved reading someone’s essay on why they ship them. Even if characters have never interacted, I enjoyed reading essays on why they would make an interesting couple.

I know this didn’t really answer the question, but I honestly struggle with listing what ships I enjoy. There are too many of them, quite frankly, and some of them are couples that I just ship in a queerplatonic way that toes the line between platonic and romantic.

That being said, here are some of my favourite queerplatonic ships:

Obi-Wan Kenobi and Qui-Gon Jinn. My favourite dynamic for them was in the novel Cloak of Deception. It mentioned their size difference a lot, which I really enjoy (Obi-Wan is not tiny! They just kept putting Ewan Mcgregor next to giants! He is average height, honestly) But most importantly, it portrayed their relationship as Qui-Gon getting distracted by something for a few minutes only to whip around and look around for his Padawan wildly. This man has left Obi-Wan at a gas station before. They snark at each other and are just overall very comfortable with each other and the whole thing makes me very happy, I wish there were fics based on this dynamic (aside from my own)

Qui-Gon Jinn and Luke Skywalker. These two have never met. They do not know each other. Qui-Gon dies long before Luke was born and nobody ever mentions Qui-Gon to Luke. But, and I’ve said this before, they are oddly similar and I think it would be fun to watch them hang out. They are like two tuning forks ringing in perfect harmony. They are so similar, they are a mirror to each other, and I love the idea of them bonding over plants.

Furuya Rei and Kudou Shinichi. I don’t know how to describe their dynamic. They are suspicious of each other. They trust each other with their lives. Conan can tell that Amuro (Furuya) isn’t who he says he is. Furuya can tell that Conan isn’t who he says he is. They bond over stupid things. Furuya gets stalked for his ham sandwich recipe. Conan cannot believe that this man is this stupid. I don’t know, I like their dynamic. I like Furuya taking one look at Conan and saying “what a suspicious lil guy. I’m going to feed him in hopes that he returns like a stray cat.” It is very fun to read and to write.

I suppose you could say that my favourite ships, romantic or otherwise, are ones where they will sit across from each other in comfortable silence.

And I like ones that are mutually insane. Again, Hannibal and Will. Hannibal in the Red Dragon (novel) gets so upset that Will dared to not give him his phone number and home address that he figured out Will’s home address for the sole purpose to send a serial killer to his door out of petty revenge. When Will gets stabbed in the face at the end of the book and is in the hospital, Hannibal writes him a letter that ends with “I hope you aren’t ugly now.” In Silence of the Lambs, Hannibal Lecter meets the first woman he’s been able to have any contact with in literal years, and his first question is “Where’s Will Graham? If they’re going to send someone to pick my brain, they’re going to send Will Graham. Where is he?” (He is in Florida drinking beer and ignoring Crawford’s increasingly desperate phone calls)

Hope this is somewhat what you were looking for.

#ask #long post #anonymous #the inane ramblings of a madman #i never remember the characters i ship #i’m so bad with names #i forgot will’s name for a second #i have a problem

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writerfae · 1 year ago

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Happy birthday, Henry!

Today's fact of the day made me feel really bad for Aiden. (In a good way, but you know)

I just imagine him on the first birthday after Henry left trying to cheer himself up by saying: more cake for me, but it obviously doesn't work.

In honor of Henry's birthday, I wanted to ask what would have happened if he had been raised by Cameron?

And since this is a very angsty question (I presume), here's something more lighthearted:

Do you think Henry ever just looks up at the sky when Aiden does something needlessly reckless/ self sacrificial and asks whatever entity created them (*cough* you *cough*) how much of this is the abandonment issues and how much of it is just simply Aiden?

Hello! Henry said thank you. And then went back to sitting in the corner crying because he read today’s Henry fact of the day (he only found out today).

I have often thought about what would be if Henry was raised by Cameron instead.

In fact, that’s exactly what I meant when I once said that given the circumstances, Henry would stand on the other side of the story. I think he’d be a quite different person too.

First, he’d grow up a lot less loved. While I believe that in his own twisted way Cameron cares for his son, he wouldn’t be a very present much less loving dad.

There’d be other people showing him affection, but in general his childhood would be a lot more disciplined and a lot more cold and distant, what in return I think would make him more cold and distant too (or like, bad at emotions).

Deep down though I think Henry would still be kind. That’s just too deeply rooted in his character to be erased even through Cameron. At least he’d be much more merciful than his father, though he would often mask it.

Cameron would train his son ever since he was little to fight so Henry would be very good at it. His father would be proud (not like he would say it) but also a bit jealous cause Henry is more skilled and also more intelligent like in general.

Of course giving his connection Henry would also be a knight of the alder in this scenario. One of their best even.

He’d still be a good talker, someone with radiance, so he’d probably have a pretty high position with them.

And more than that (that’s kinda a spoiler but whatever) - he would’ve been raised to be the sacrifice for the Alderking’s reawakening and he’d probably knew it, thinking it’s his purpose and destiny.

Being raised as a fae would probably also mean that his magic would be stronger and better trained, I think Nyx would teach him.

His relationship to both Aiden and Callan would change too, of course.

If Henry met Aiden as a knight and knew he was his half-brother he’d probably hate him at first. After all he got to live a happy life with their mom while she abandoned Henry (that’s what he’d be told at least).

But Aiden would still try to get along and get Henry away from the knights. I’m sure he’d manage to get Henry to talk and even get him to open up to him.

As for Callan, there’s two options: either they never got to meet or they met at a feast by chance. Maybe they would start a secret friendship or they’d both be secretly crush on each other but both knowing it can’t be.

A Henry who was raised by Cameron and also be a knight that was only born to be used (be it as a weapon or a sacrifice) would be much like canon Henry in the human world: unhappy but too loyal to his family to do something about it.

So maybe he wouldn’t be so different after all, he’d just be a bit less emotional intelligent and quite a difficult opponent to deal with for Aiden and co.

Also yeah, I think Henry curses me the gods at least once a week for making Aiden do things that give him a heart attack. The poor soul really didn’t know what he did to deserve this.

#I most likely missed out on something regarding the Cameron question #but tumblr killed my long-ass reply through some dumb glitch so I had to rewrite it all #and I already forgot half of it #but I hope it’s a satisfying answer #if you have questions let me know! ^^#and thanks for your ask :)#I think maybe Callan and Aiden would show Henry that he’s worth more and could do so much better and maybe that changes his mind #damn now that I think about it this almost would’ve been more interesting than canon in a way xD #writer speaks #writeblr #wip: the knights of the alder

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so-i-grudgingly-joined-this-site · 1 year ago

Note

Thank you SO much for answering this! Especially with so much detail! The context really does help the character (and her terribleness) make so much more sense! Especially if she was a response to an overly sanitized/marketable view of witchcraft at the time. Also, some things I noticed as I was reading your answer:

One: I guess I'll have to carve out the time to listen to the Audible sometime, because I keep hearing that Thessaly was "toned down" but the one person I know who is listening to the Audible completely unspoiled/almost no other context said she can't stand Thessaly because, to paraphrase, "She's horrible, and prejudiced against Wanda and the lesbians." What's extra shocking is that the person in question is my MOM, a literal boomer (as in, born in the baby boom generation) of moderate politics, so for her to think Thessaly has anti-LGBT vibes (and against Foxglove and Hazel too, not just Wanda) feels significant.

Two: Yeah, I keep forgetting that Thessaly is, based on her description of her birthday, from the cavewoman era. Her penchant for violence and questionable gender opinions make a lot more sense with the context that she's probably from the "sacrifice someone on a rock with a stone knife for a good harvest" times. Interesting that the fandom jokes about how Hob might still think like a 1300s peasant but forgets that Thessaly is also of a very different time. Actually, I'll get back to Thessaly vs. Hob in a second...

Three: That's a GREAT point about the most TERF-y character in the arc being George, not Thessaly. I'm not sure if the fandom ignores it because he's a man, because they assume Thessaly's magic is influencing him somehow, or both. In fact, if I recall, Thessaly makes basically one transphobic statement to Wanda (albeit a very obvious one). By the same token, Hob admits to founding the Atlantic slave trade once, but fandom as a whole doesn't define him as "the racist guy" the way they define Thessaly as a TERF even though they are both immortals with horrible views/actions. Which... hmm, wonder why that would be...

I'm also 0% a Thessaly apologist; I think she's horrible person and it's a relief to hear we probably weren't supposed to be cheering for her outright or find her inspirational/aspirational. But yeah, there's definitely a lack of literary examination of her role. Then again, perhaps it's also fortunate that fandom has a knee-jerk dislike for her rather than letting TERF-y views potentially fester.

(as a coda to my response: I hate canon comics Hob too, in major part because of the overlooked slave trade thing. It's somewhat horrifying how fandom has whitewashed him, so at least that hasn't happened to Thessaly? But it's also very...notable that fans will overlook the one admission of racism [in a form that continues to severely affect people's lives via class dynamics and politics in the modern day] from a male character but not the one admission of transphobia from a female character.)

So, you mentioned something about Thessaly in a 90s context in one of your responses to another post, and I was wondering if you could expand on that. Because yeah, I have no problem with her *existing* as a character, because obviously she has a role in the narrative, but I highly suspect that her perceived role has changed a LOT in the intervening years since the initial writing.

As someone who first read Sandman in 2022, I figured that her character role was to get us to question what we think we know about Morpheus. Can we really trust that he's changed or improved, or that he's even all that likeable, if he's literally jumping into bed with this thoroughly unpleasant woman who likes violent murder *way* too much and also seems to be transphobic to boot?

At the same time, though, I got the uncomfortable sense that we were supposed to *like* Thessaly. In a sort of, "You go girl, be a #girlboss, let's show these boys we can be JUST as good at killing as them!" sort of way. Which I rationalized as "well, that probably was progressive in the 90s, but the idea of cold blooded violence and emphasis on the possession of a womb being feminist ideals has aged poorly."

So, yeah, I'm wondering if that is anywhere close to how she seemed in the "intended" context.

This is such a good ask, and I feel there are a lot of bases to cover here. Not sure if I’ll do it justice, but here goes…

Disclaimer straightaway: I absolutely detest Thessaly and everything she’s done narratively, and I’m neither a Thessaly-apologist, nor someone who loves her as a character. But I think we need to discuss her with a bit more nuance than I see in lot of fandom spaces.

I think first of all, we need to look at:

Thessaly as a fictional character

As you already pointed out, she naturally has a role in the narrative. I also think parts of her role in said narrative are sometimes a bit misunderstood. One prime example would be the idea she never loved Morpheus. And yes, she absolutely always put herself and her own interests first, so from that angle, she loved herself more than she loved him. That doesn’t mean she never loved him at any point though. Many people quote her saying that she never did as proof that she didn’t. But what people say doesn’t always align with what they feel or do: She says at his wake she swore she’ll never cry over him again—and cries while she’s saying it. That tells us two things: She *did* cry because of him before. And she *does* cry now.

Again, she is a selfish, utterly horrid bitch, but she loved him at some point, and she was mad at him for neglecting her and not paying her enough attention. That’s when it turned sour (and we know how absolutely shit at communicating with women Morpheus is, so they’re both as bad as each other in that regard).

I see her as someone who is totally disconnected/dissociated from her emotions, to the extent that she probably really believes what she says, out of some deep-rooted fear of any kind of vulnerability. Why that is—we can only speculate, because Neil never went into it, hence nothing we assume will ever be canon.

What can be considered canon, however, is that Neil has confirmed the fact that she *did* love him at some point—most notably in the Sandman Companion:

Hy Bender: […] Of course, she’s lying when she says she never loved the Sandman.

Neil Gaiman: Of course; I think that’s made explicit by the final panel, where she says, `I swore I would never shed another tear for him’ while crying. But after he’s won her and then returned to his duties, he wasn’t enough for her anymore. She wanted attention; and when she wasn’t getting it, she said, “Right. We’re done,” and walked out on him.”

I’d also like to point out that the most trans-exclusionary prick in the whole of AGoY is actually George, just that he’s not a woman, and hence, no one ever seems to mention it (he’s actually the one egging Wanda on, not Thessaly). Plus, walking the moon road is maiden, mother and crone to a T, and consciously so. Foxglove is the maiden, Hazel is pregnant, and Thessaly is ancient. So Thessaly’s choice was also based on that, and the only one who Wanda really could have *potentially* replaced would have been Foxglove; she presumably never had penetrative sex, unlike Hazel (in the archaic definition of what penetration means, so we don’t need to argue about lesbian sex practices now). We don’t know that about Wanda, no matter if someone sees her as a man or a woman. I didn’t mean to get that explicit about maiden status, but I guess it *is* important in this context (although yes, of course Thessaly said Wanda is a man, and I’m not arguing that either, but I still think it was grounded in her belief how moon magic works).

Which brings me to a very important point: Thessaly is ancient. Culturally, we can’t compare her to someone who grew up in the 20th century, also with regard to her violent inclinations. She is thousands of years old. She’s seen it all. She has a fierce sense of self-preservation, maybe even rooted in some fears or trauma of her own. All not very nice character traits, no, but that’s not the yardstick, and probably was never supposed to be. I also remember Neil saying he consciously wanted to oppose neopaganism and the watered down, new wave witchcraft of the time (late 1980s/early 1990s, and that, I really remember), which was all about the “divine feminine”, female empowerment, tarot cards and incense sticks. I’m being a bit flippant now, but it isn’t far off. It was more of a trend than anything. He wanted to consciously oppose it with someone who would still act according to ancient, rather violent codes and rules. And Morpheus will have known those, and probably found them less surprising than we do (doesn’t necessarily mean he’d condone them either).

The fact whether Thessaly should make us question Morpheus in the comics is a tricky one. What she definitely *should* make us question is: Morpheus could have quite easily broken some rules in the Kindly Ones when Thessaly had set up the protection circle for Lyta, and the consequences probably would have been less disastrous than playing by said rules. And we can safely presume he knew. We are also supposed to question the same when he lets Nuala call in her boon and doesn’t just say: “This isn’t really a good time, can we do this later?” (and he absolutely COULD have done that), but actually follows through with going ,“Well, what gives, I basically grant you your boon now and leave the Dreaming, even though I know the potential consequences.” So yes, Thessaly is supposed to make us question Dream’s choices, but probably not the way we think. And for that, we perhaps should look deeper into…

Thessaly the TERF and Feminism in the late 1980s/early 1990s

This might get a bit longwinded, and I am showing my age here. I grew up at the intersection of second wave and third wave feminism, and as a bisexual woman, I made a lot of experiences during the early 90s that feel wholly aligned with the plot of AGoY (which was written during that time). I don’t want to write a whole essay about feminism here, but second wave feminism was on its way out in the late 80s. A lot of the bad associations some people have with feminism today stem from that time (not always justified, because a lot of good was achieved during that period. But parts of it in specific sub-communities—definitely problematic). Equality vs equity discussions within the feminist movement were dominating everything, and the divide between radfems and libfems was getting deeper. People like Audre Lorde IMHO rightly criticised that failing to understand that not all women start on equal footing, that not all women are the same, is problematic (so you could easily see how this is incorporated into the narrative of AGoY).

Second wave feminism wasn’t just about making sure women had rights. It was very much about “all of us can do everything men do, and we want the same a man gets”. It was all about the workspace (so often very white, CIS, middle class), not being at home with the kids etc (of course there were also other topics, but this one was really quite dominant). You could even see it fashion (massive shoulder pads etc). All the while, actually *being* a man was vilified (again, just in certain quarters).

So I feel you’re on to something with your #girlboss comment, only that I don’t think it was intentionally set up to like her, but rather as a criticism of what certain quarters of the feminist movement were like at the time.

Personal anecdote: I got that type of schtick from WITHIN the LGBT community at the time. Bi-erasure was big. And there were radfem lesbians that would actually tell you that being bi doesn’t exist, that you are basically a traitor to your “sisters” and just a lesbian who isn’t fully out. The same shite they used to criticise about men who would say you’re only a lesbian because you haven’t found the right guy yet. And here they went, telling you that you can’t be attracted to men if you’re also attracted to women.

Third wave feminism has a much stronger focus on the individual woman and what it means to be a woman to HER. This also included trans women, much more than during the second wave. Judith Butler’s work is actually exemplary for this (in essence, there is no such woman as “the” woman—we’re all different despite sharing common traits and problems. Trying to make us all the same will only harm us in the long run).

And with AGoY and Thessaly, we are exactly at the moment in time (in the comics) where that shift happens. I think Neil got it right for the time, and understood a lot of what was going on. Many people in queer communities felt really understood and seen, myself included. I absolutely see how that translates differently today. But it always saddens me when the historical context gets completely stripped away, and people don’t take the time a work of fiction was written into consideration and only measure it from today’s viewpoint. We can, and absolutely have to be critical if the TV shows fails to address these points and just translates everything 1-2-1. Which I am fairly certain won’t happen, because Thessaly has already been stripped off a lot of her obvious TERFiness in the Audible. I’m not even sure if we’ll get her in the show—we’ll hopefully find out.

Phew, that was long, I’m gonna lie down 😂

#the sandman #the sandman meta #character analysis #thessaly #I LOVE this deep dive

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happilykrispypirate · 3 years ago

Text

Impossible (Prologue)

Pairings: Mattheo Riddle x fem!Soulmate!Potter!reader

Warnings: Swearing, some angst and my shitty writing.

Summary: (yes, I’m doing these now) Mattheo and the reader are made for each other, literally. In a world where soulmates are connected through physical and emotional pain and a tattoo on the back of their left wrist, Mattheo and the reader must struggle to find a way to cope with the fact that their soulmate is on the opposing team.

A/n: So I’m trying to make this a series of like 10 parts? We’ll see, I’ll try to post as much as I can but mid-year exams are on the way. Also for those of you who haven’t noticed yet, English is not my first language and my work is not edited.

This is set at the beginning of the 6th year and most probably going on until 7, there are going to be a lot of time gaps, but not so that it feels like rushing. I haven’t watched or read the HP series in a while so I cannot remember everything, I can only remember a few things but they’re not much. So for the most of this story, things will be made up. The story and characters belong to J.K. and Yasmine.

There’s not a single person in the wizarding world that doesn’t know who I am. They don’t always recognise me, but they will once they learn my name.

My brother and I were famous as soon as we were born. We didn’t know it, until we arrived at Hogwarts for the first time after we turned 11.

Anyways, like every other beginning of the year, Harry, Ron, Hermione and I go to Diagon Alley along with the rest of the Weasley’s to get school supplies. Hermione, Ginny and I were in Flourish and Blotts looking at new books we could read when we got bored.

“I’ve read most of these already,” Hermione sighs as she looks through the rows of books.

“Me too,” I said also sighing, then I spot one with an unfamiliar name, “Oh, nevermind, found one.” I grabbed it from the shelf and place it in my little basket that has already been filled to the brim with books, it’s really heavy.

“Alright, ladies, I’m going to go buy these and then head over to Madam Malkin’s, my one skirt’s seam has come loose. Merlin knows I can’t sew,” I said causing a light chuckle to leave their lips.

“Enjoy,” Ginny said and I wave goodbye.

I was almost down the last few steps when my foot slipped. I gasped and grabbed onto the railing, stopping myself from hitting the ground, but it did not stop the basket to fall out of my hands and onto the floor. I groaned as I lifted myself from the railing and then started picking up the books once I was finally off the steps.

There was someone else helping me pick up the books. I looked up and saw that it was Mattheo Riddle.

"Thank you," I said as I put the last of my books in the basket. He then placed the ones he picked up in the basket.

"Watch your step next time," He said and I chuckled to myself.

"I will," I said, "Or I'll try."

Mattheo smiled, and also let out a chuckle, "That's quite a lot of books," He said pointing at the basket.

"Yeah, I get bored pretty quickly," I said and he smiled a little wider.

He was about to say something else when Harry and Ron stormed over to me, pushing me behind them.

"I don't know what you think you're doing, but whatever it is, do not involve my sister, do not come near her ever again or you'll be sorry," Harry spat at Mattheo getting all up in his face.

"Harry, calm down. I tripped and he helped me, he was just being kind," I said trying to push past him but he kept pushed me back.

"It could be all part of a plan, you never know with him," Ron said and I rolled my eyes.

"Thank you, Mattheo, for helping me. I also sincerely apologise for the behaviour of these two imbeciles," I said glaring at Ron and Harry.

Mattheo nodded, clearly annoyed with them. I left, heading for the counter to pay.

It was almost time to head back to the leaky cauldron, I was with the twins. Helping them close up shop.

"I know he's the nose-less bitch's son but that doesn't mean that he intends to hurt me," I said as I wiped down the sticky counter.

"Your brother is just looking after you," George said.

"There is a possibility that he could be planning something," Fred said.

"Fine, maybe there is," I said sighing as I put down the cloth and ran a hand through my hair, "I just got this weird feeling when I saw him. I mean I've seen him a lot of times before, but we were never that close."

"Maybe you have a 6th sense?" George said shrugging.

I scoffed and rolled my eyes, "Well whatever it is, I still think he isn't planning anything. If he is, he doesn't want to go through with it."

After closing up with the twins, I was headed back to the leaky cauldron. It was dark, and I accidentally took a wrong turn. Now I'm in a dark alley with some sketchy looking people.

I was hurrying, trying to find a way back to the main street.

"Hello there," I turned around and saw an oldish man, he was covered in dirt and he was looking at me with a smug smirk, "Where are you heading?"

I quickly turned back around and started running in a direction. He must've called his friends because when I turned my head, I saw a whole group of people.

I turned a corner and bumped straight into someone, causing me to fall to the ground.

"Hey what the-" I looked up and saw Mattheo, "Hey what are you doing he-"

I got up and cut him off by placing my hand over his mouth and pinning him to the wall. The group of men ran past us.

I let out a relieved sigh and removed my hand from his mouth, "Sorry, I panicked."

"Are you alright?" He asked and I nodded.

"Yeah, just a little shook, I'll be fine though," I said .

"What are you doing here?" He asked.

"Took a wrong turn, got lost," I said as I brushed the dirt off my clothes, "What are you doing here?"

"Borgin and Burkes, they have some weird cursed things," He said and I chuckled.

"Of course you would like weird cursed things," I said. My eyes widened slightly as soon as I realised what I had said, but they soon relaxed again when he laughed.

"You're the cursed one, I would've expected it be you," He said causing me to laugh.

The laughter died down and there was a comfortable silence, "Come on, I'll show you back to the main street," He said.

I followed him and soon enough we were there, "Thank you, Mattheo," I said as we came to a stop.

"Your welcome," He said and smiled, he looked down a bit at my hands that were tied together, "You alright?"

I untangled my hands and looked at them, they were red, "I got scraped when I fell, they don't hurt as bad. Wait until I put them in the hot water later."

"Let me see," Mattheo took my hand in his and turned it over. My sleeves were pulled back a little, revealing my tattoo.

He then placed his thumb on my soulmate tattoo, softly rubbing over it. I looked at him confused, about to ask what he was doing when he lifted his left arm and pulled back his sleeve. He put his arm against mine.

Holy shit, he's my soulmate.

#x reader #harry potter #reader insert #mattheoriddle #mattheo #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheoxreader #draco x reader #x fem reader #draco malfoy x reader #lorenzo berkshire x reader

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thecatduet422 · 2 years ago

Text

PART ONE

bakugou x reader

Rating: Teen

Tags: romance, fluff, aged-up characters, time skips, flashbacks, no beta

Summary: Extra. Princess. Nerd. Names Katsuki called you when he was trying to piss you off.

And then the one he had for you when he wasn’t.

AO3 Link (where it was originally posted)

PART TWO

At first, he thought you were just some extra.

He remembers the first day of class, when Four Eyes lectured him about his desk.

“Take your feet off of that desk now!” Four Eyes looked down on him. “It’s the first day of school and already you’re disrespecting this academy by scuffing school property, you cretin!”

“You’re kidding me, right?” Katsuki smirked. “You’re old school put a stick up your ass? Or were you just born with it?"

“He’s right,” you suddenly whipped around from your seat, eyeing Katsuki with disdain. “You’re being disrespectful.”

“Huh?” Katsuki yelled. “Who the hell asked you?!”

You scanned him up and down, unimpressed.

“No one did,” you replied, holding your head high. “But you’re being improper, and he has a point.”

“Huh?!” he asked again. The way you were looking at him was pissing him off. “You think you’re better than me?!”

You looked at him again, at his feet on the desk. You looked disgusted.

“Yes,” you replied, flipping your hair before returning to your book.

“Oi!” Katsuki abruptly stood up from his seat, towering over you in a challenge. “Who the hell do you think you are, you extra?! I’ll take you on right now!”

“Excuse me?!” you screeched. You stood up from your seat, matching him dead on. “What did you just call me?!”

And then Katsuki saw your eyes. Tiny, translucent jewels embedded into the irises, sparkling and twinkling in the light. Katsuki supposed it was meant to be pretty, but you, with your ugly scowl and piss-poor attitude, somehow made it annoying.

“You heard me,” Katsuki growled, smirking domineeringly at you. He could feel the heat of his palms start to sizzle with rage.

He was going to crush you.

“Extra,” he said tauntingly.

Aizawa-sensei had to separate them. Their desks were moved onto opposite sides of the room, but that still couldn’t stop the bickering that would occasionally rise from the both of you. You were like cats and dogs, completely at odds with one another. The only thing you two had in common was your temper.

You were uptight, snobby, and rude, choosing to stick your nose in a book rather than talk to anybody. And when you did speak, it was to correct someone or butt in with some useless reference from some fancy-ass novel you’ve read. On top of that, you quoted the Hero Constitution constantly, bugging Katsuki and anyone else nearby about what it means to actually be a hero.

You were a royal pain in his ass.

So in retaliation, Katsuki continued to call you an extra, knowing how much you hated it. The nose you kept in the air would scrunch up like you smelled something foul. Your lips would pout and pucker as if you tasted something sour, and then your brows would furrow as those jewel eyes of yours glowed. That's when he knew you were about to explode on him, squawking at him in that painfully shrill voice of yours saying no, you were not an extra!

Your pissed off face was the only interesting thing about you. Which was why Katsuki continued to call you that, even though the rest of his classmates' nicknames were more specific.

And then the Sports Festival happened, and Katsuki found himself about to go up against you.

He was going to beat your snooty ass into the dirt. Once and for all.

But something was different that day. You’ve been quiet, detached. Every time Katsuki saw you, you were tucked away in some corner, your book blocking your face as you read it. He thought nothing of it at the time. He was too busy dealing with Icy-Hot after his insulting declaration against Deku.

And then he saw you fight.

Icy-Hot was throwing everything at you. He tried icing you head on, but you always maneuvered it with ease, jumping and flipping away in just the right time, toeing the edge but always staying within bounds. It was lame at first. Katsuki expected the bastard to knock you out within seconds, and so did everyone else. But you dodged every attack easily, using your super strength to leap into the air at extreme heights. Icy-Hot tried to freeze you then, but you kicked- smashing the ice straight through.

Huh, maybe your quirk wasn't so lame after all. He immediately dismissed it on the first day. Super strength wasn't anything special. A lot of people had variations of it, giving their quirk. And yours wasn't flashy or powerful, nothing like All Might's or any other Hero who used it.

But you were good at combat, and you were able to blend it with your quirk easily. Which was why when you jumped over another ice attack, and landed right in front of Icy-Hot, he used his fire in surprise.

But somehow, it didn't matter. You landed a kick right to his stomach, pushing Icy-Hot out of bounds.

The hell?

"How did she do that?" their classmates said in awe.

"She should've burned."

But you were fine, staring down at Icy-Hot with that annoying little smirk on your face.

"Thanks, Todoroki-kun," you said with a mysterious shine in your eyes, before offering your hand to help him up.

Thanks? What did you mean by that?

Katsuki grunted. It didn't matter. That just meant he got to be the one to beat you himself.

He smiled ferociously.

Finally.

And then it got to the final round, and once the fight began, Katsuki wasted no time.

You were good at using your quirk in combat, but so was he.

Every move you made, he countered, using his explosions to avoid your attacks. And whenever he tried to attack you straight on, you did the same, leaping out of the way to avoid his quirk.

But he expected that, so when you leaped into the air, he used that time to build up the heat in his palms, and when the moment was right…

BOOM.

He launched an explosion at you while you were airborne, similar to what Icy-Hot did with his ice. But there was no way you could counter something like that. It was the biggest explosion he’s ever done, and he did it on purpose. He wanted to see you broken, your snooty face cry from the pain, kicking you off your high and mighty pedestal, permanently.

The arena was covered in smoke.

Katsuki listened, waiting for the announcement that you were out of bounds, or even better, too injured to fight.

But as the smoke waved through the air, slowly thinning out, he heard nothing.

The audience started murmuring to one another, becoming restless with the fact that they couldn’t see you either.

Their reaction made Katsuki nervous, and he frantically started to look around, anticipating a surprise attack.

But then through the smoke, he saw something. A movement that morphed into a shadow, and as it reached the edge of the fumes, the clouds becoming nothing, it gleamed. It reflected against the light, twinkling and sparkling so bright, Katsuki had to squint.

You walked out in a completely different form, one that was solid, translucent, except for the areas that were shining back, exposing hues of rainbow.

Some kind of jewel form.

“Is that all you got, hothead?” you said mockingly, flipping your hair even though it didn’t move, as it was also crystallized.

The audience cheered at the sight of you, oohing and awing at your appearance.

Damn it. Damn it damn it damnitdamnitDAMNITDAMNIT-

“IS THAT ALL I GOT?!” Katsuki screamed, launching himself at you. “NOT EVEN CLOSE.”

You moved to grab him, but he dodged away, aiming an explosion right to your face.

But you held strong. You never cracked.

And the fight continued, the both of you completely destroying the arena. You both raged, yelling and taunting as you punched, exploded, and plowed through everything you could.

You both had only one goal in mind; take this smug asshole rude piece of shit down.

And through it all, you were never able to catch Katsuki.

And he was never able to break you.

“ENOUGH!” Cementoss screamed as giant slabs of concrete finally stopped you.

“It’s a tie!” Midnight cheered.

Katsuki froze. He couldn’t believe it.

“A TIE?!” you both screamed.

They had to chain you both to the podium to keep you from killing each other.

He remembers the night after that, lying in bed, wondering how the world turned upside down. First, Deku gets a quirk. Then, Icy-Hot doesn’t see him as a threat. And then, Katsuki ends up in a tie against you. How did this happen?

He tossed and turned, unable to sleep as whispering thoughts of doubt prodded his mind. He was afraid to even think about it. He refused to even comprehend the fact that maybe he… Maybe he was…

No.

There had to be a winner.

So the next day, Katsuki tracked you down and demanded a rematch.

“Fight me!” he commanded.

“Shhhhhhh!” went the people around him.

Figuring out where you were was easy. It was a free day, and you, being the annoying bookworm that you were, had nothing better to do than spend it at the library.

“Be quiet!” you hushed.

“I want a rematch!” said Katsuki, not bothering to lower his voice whatsoever.

“Can’t you see I’m busy?!” you stage whispered, gesturing to the book you were reading.

“Hah!” he pointed a finger accusingly. “You’re just afraid I'll kick your ass!”

“Shhh!” people repeated, harshly.

You sighed, heavy with frustration. “If I fight you, will you leave me alone?”

He hmphed, smirking victoriously. “Like I’d ever acknowledge you again after this.”

You seethed with rage, your face twisting into that famous sour expression as you slammed your book.

You ended up taking him to an abandoned gym, old and rusty from neglect.

“The hell?! How can anyone train here?” he cried.

“I train here,” you replied, folding your arms as you stuck up your nose.

You assured him it was safe, and that no one would interrupt them.

So they fought, just like they did before.

And he did everything he could to beat you. But you, in that stupid, ridiculous, jewel form wouldn’t budge. You were like Shitty Hair, but better, and your fighting skills were incredible. It pissed him off. His only solace was that you couldn’t pin him down either.

You would charge at him, but he would dodge, using his explosions at the last second. He would try to attack from behind, but you would anticipate it and counter with a roundhouse kick that just barely got him. And it went on and on, and soon enough, Katsuki realized they were falling into a pattern.

Charge.

Dodge.

Attack.

Counter.

Over and over and over again. And it seemed that no matter what Katsuki did, he couldn’t get out of it. Whatever move he tried, you picked it up. It was like a black hole, inescapable. No matter how much they tried to break the pattern, they would just fall back in.

They kept fighting until they couldn't. Until you were both lying on the ground, covered in sweat, nothing moving but the rise and fall of your chests. Hearing nothing but the desperate panting you both made as you struggled for air.

He was actually tired because of you.

"C-Can we…" you panted. "Can we call it a day?"

You were pleading with him.

And Katsuki wondered, if he said no, if he wanted to keep going, would you follow him?

There, lying on the ground, he looked up. He looked up at the cracks in the ceiling, the mold gathering in the corners, the shitty lights that were rapidly flickering, barely alive. All while being consumed with the thought that you were no extra.

And he couldn’t call you that anymore.

"Yeah," he nodded as his breath caught up to him.

They continued to meet up after that.

It would always be at that shitty gym. Why, he didn’t know, but you would insist on it, nagging at him in that stupid voice that it had to be there.

“It’s tradition,” you would say.

And Katsuki would give in, as long as you would just shut up and fight already.

And you did, following the pattern, trying desperately not to.

“Come on, hothead. You can do better than that,” you taunted, baring another explosion.

Hothead. Your nickname for him. You started using it more and more, while he was trying to find a new one for you.

What was he supposed to do, call you by your actual name?

As if.

You were still aggravating. You, with your pompous-ass attitude, clutching your book to your chest. You, in that stupid crystal form, acting like royalty.

So he started to call you princess, always in mockery. He would draw it out, dip it in sarcasm, make it sound insulting. You would get annoyed, but not nearly as much as extra did. And during the moments when you really pissed him off, Katsuki found himself wishing he could find another name, one that could recreate the face you made. The ugly one, with the scrunched up nose and the puckered mouth. Katsuki wondered why he liked it so much, and then he realized it’s because you often looked pretty, with those jewel eyes of yours. Everyone commented on them and told you how pretty they looked.

It annoyed the hell out of him. So when you made a face, one that revealed how ugly and imperfect you actually were, Katsuki reveled in it. Even more so when he was the cause of it.

So, he would try out different names when you fought, thinking if he pissed you off enough, you would make the face and falter.

“Shut up, princess!” he shot back.

“Make me!” You aimed a right hook. He avoided it.

“Try something new for once, nerd!” he growled.

You managed to trap him in a headlock.

“I know what you’re trying to do, Kacchan,” you scolded him, mouth twisting in a frown as he struggled to get out. “It’s not gonna work.”

Kacchan. The name you used when you were trying to piss him off, courtesy of Deku.

It worked.

He roared in frustration, setting off an explosion right next to your ear. As you reeled back, covering your ear in pain, he tried to take you out with a kick, but you managed to dodge it in time.

Charge. Dodge. Attack. Counter.

Again and again.

But something was different that time. That time, you managed to get a hold of him. And that time, he was able to throw you off.

You were both improving, little by little.

And then one time, after the Kamino Incident, you randomly show up at his door.

“Huh?” he said, noting your disheveled appearance. “What the hell are you doing here?!”

“You didn’t show up,” you panted, out of breath. Your brows furrowed, your nose scrunched up, your lips puckered. The face.

You were pissed.

“I waited… FOR THREE HOURS!” you screamed. Katsuki could practically see the steam coming out of your ears, whistling and high pitched, like a hot teapot.

“Of course I didn’t, dumbass!” he shouted back. “We’re not supposed to leave our houses! I was just-” he choked, unable to say the word as failure and guilt crushed his windpipe.

“So?” You put your hands on your hips, raising a brow at him as if being kidnapped wasn’t an excuse.

“So?!” he repeated. “It’s not safe! The League can be anywhere!”

“The world is never safe, hothead. And groups like the League will always exist,” you told him, folding your arms. “That’s why we exist.”

And then you dropped your expression, relaxing your features as you replaced your anger with something else. Something Katsuki didn’t recognize. But it was soft, and your eyes sparkled with it, and he couldn’t help but think, in that moment, everyone was right. You were pretty.

“You really gonna let that stop you?” you asked quietly, tilting your chin up in a silent challenge.

Of course he wasn’t. But the old hag would never let him.

And when he told you that, you smirked. “What? Chicken?”

Later that night, as the old hag screamed at him for sneaking out, he thought, you really weren’t that uptight.

And suddenly, even calling you princess felt wrong.

But, he realized, it didn’t matter. As his mind flashed to you, standing outside his door, making the face he wanted, he learned he didn’t have to call you names. He could piss you off in other ways.

Once he figured that out, it became so easy.

All he had to do was show up late.

And suddenly, their fights cranked up to an eleven. If it were possible, you were even more ferocious, more unforgiving. If Katsuki somehow slipped up, you made sure he felt it.

He never felt more alive.

Finally, he met someone who could match him.

But that also meant you were his competition, his rival. And every time it ended in draw, the both of you lying on the floor, utterly exhausted, he felt disappointed. Unsatisfied. He wanted to go again.

And as time went on, the two of you growing into your quirks, becoming more powerful, you were able to.

And so you would, again and again, falling into the same pattern that felt like a dance. And while he wanted to win, wanted to beat you, he also found that he didn't mind. Fighting you was fun.

And as the world continued to be unsafe, as wars were fought, and people died, he found that fighting you was one of the few things he could rely on.

And he thought you felt the same, because as time went on, and they continued their dance, he only learned more about you.

You acted righteous because of your father, a lawyer who was an activist for quirkless rights. He always raised you to be good, to be right. He taught you to value morality and action above everything. An honorable man with good intentions, but sometimes he could be overbearing and critical, making you feel as if you couldn't be wrong without feeling like a bad person.

So you played it docile, choosing to smother your emotions by reading rather than express them. Until Katsuki came along and set you off, because how is it fair he could act out with no consequence while others couldn't?

Especially when he was throwing words around like worthless and extra. Harmful, demeaning words that weren't right.

And Katsuki saw it, that special gleam in your eye whenever they fought. Because after all those years of holding your emotions, you were finally able to get them out.

But as he came to know you, to recognize the small things that told him when you were angry, or sad, or happy, you learned about him too.

Which was why now, when they've graduated from UA and were working in the same agency, you asked him what was wrong.

And when Katsuki ignored you, continuing the dance, you asked again.

And when he didn't answer, you guessed.

"Is it Kirishima?" you asked as you ran at him.

He huffed, flipping up into the air.

"Icy-Hot?" you used your lasso to grab him and pull him down.

He growled as he collided with the ground, choosing to blast you with everything he had. A wild, terrifying bomb of destruction that would've destroyed anyone else. But because it was you, it did nothing.

You laughed as it went off, smiling gleefully. The shrill squawking he once hated grew into bells, chimes that fluttered his stomach whenever you laughed. When once he strived to see you angry and pissed, he now wanted to see you smile, to see you shine and glow with happiness that was all because of him.

"It's Midoriya!" you cheered.

"What?!" he yelled. "No it isn't."

"Oh please, Kacchan," you teased, pausing the fight to flick his nose. "Only he could rile you up this way."

"No!" he swiped at you. "You piss me off all the time!"

"Maybe once," you shrugged. "But hardly anymore. At least, not really."

You smirked, and before he knew it, you had him pinned down, covering your crystallized hands over his palms so he couldn't blast out.

"Tell me I'm wrong," you spoke softly.

It was the first time you were able to pin him. The first time either of you were able to do it.

And as Katsuki looked up into your jewel eyes, sparkling with a secret only of him, he found that he didn't mind.

He huffed. "You're never wrong."

And as he leaned up to kiss you, passionately and heatedly, dragging you down with him, he thought of your name. Not extra or princess or even your real one. The one he came up with when you looked just like this. The one you chose to be your Hero name, after he whispered it to you.

Jewels.

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