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#this is one a them “once every three years” fandoms we might be back later but we don't guarantee it.
hadassahriv · 9 months
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Fic Master List: TWEWY
I always feel like everyone who might be interested in my fics has already seen them. But then every once in a while I get new readers who leave wonderful comments, so that is clearly not the case. Everything is housed on AO3, clearly labelled, but this is the master list of my TWEWY fics to date.
Fate and Other Impossibilities (105,596 words) Chapters: 35/35 Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Kiryu "Joshua" Yoshiya/Sakuraba Neku Characters: Kiryu "Joshua" Yoshiya, Sakuraba Neku, Misaki Shiki, Bito "Beat" Daisukenojo, Bito "Rhyme" Raimu, Hanekoma Sanae, Kanade Rindo, Mikagi "Haz" Hazuki, Sakurane Shoka, Furesawa "Fret" Tosai, Usui Nagi Additional Tags: Post-Game(s), Canon Compliant, Conductor Sakuraba Neku, Developing Relationship Summary: Neku's never wanted to be special. He just wants to be. After three years in Shinjuku, that may no longer be possible.
Notes: My love letter to TWEWY and the first fic I wrote after almost 10 years out of fandom. In May 2021, I heard that a TWEWY sequel was coming, so I replayed Final Remix and then, naturally, played Neo. And after beating the game, I really wanted a story that didn't exist. I actually did not originally intend to release it at all, but a few chapters in decided I might as well. And two years later, here we are!
The Life and Death of Joshua Kiryu (3,274 words) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Kiryu "Joshua" Yoshiya/Sakuraba Neku Characters: Kiryu "Joshua" Yoshiya, Sakuraba Neku, Hanekoma Sanae Additional Tags: character backstory, Non-Linear Narrative, Established Relationship, pre- and post-canon, Canon-Typical Talk of Death and Dying Summary: There once was a boy named Yoshiya Kiryu. He died, and then his life began. - Joshua before, during, and after Fate and Other Impossibilities.
Notes: I've written a couple of additional fics within the Fate continuity and this is my non-linear, heavily stylized Joshua piece, highlighting different moments in his life and afterlife. You could read it standalone, but it will be better with context.
Being there together is enough (6,303 words) Chapters: 2/2 Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Kiryu "Joshua" Yoshiya/Sakuraba Neku, Eri/Misaki Shiki Characters: Kiryu "Joshua" Yoshiya, Sakuraba Neku, Misaki Shiki, Bito "Beat" Daisukenojo, Bito "Rhyme" Raimu, Kanade Rindo, Furesawa "Fret" Tosai, Usui Nagi, Sakurane Shoka Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Sequel, Weddings, Romance Summary: Wedding parties, old friends, and happy endings to go around. Sometimes everyone really does get the life they deserve. - Or: six years later
Notes: The third fic set within the Fate continuity. This is the happy ending sequel, light and frothy, and it will be more emotionally satisfying if you have read the story it follows. But I am not here to tell anyone what to do.
Unreal Cities (16,550 words) Chapters: 4/22 Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Kiryu "Joshua" Yoshiya/Sakuraba Neku Characters: Sakuraba Neku, Kiryu "Joshua" Yoshiya, Misaki Shiki, Bito "Beat" Daisukenojo, Bito "Rhyme" Raimu, Kanade Rindo, Furesawa "Fret" Tosai, Mikagi "Haz" Hazuki, Usui Nagi, Kariya Koki, Yashiro Uzuki, Hanekoma Sanae Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Developing Relationship, Conductor Sakuraba Neku, Post-Canon Summary: Three years is a long time to be dead, trapped in an endless loop of a city's final days and trying to understand what happened to it. No one told Neku that going back to his own life would be the hard part.
Notes: And here is my current ongoing fic! Slight canon divergence, rooted in a different take on the Shinjuku years. Eventual Conductor Neku, because that's my niche, but it's a different kind of story than Fate. Updating twice a month, if you want to come along for the ride!
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oathena11-writes · 2 months
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I just wanted to let anyone who follows me know that I'm taking a break from posting on AO3 until April, maybe later depending on how things look once we get to April.
I am hiding away the further explanation of why because it's more of a vent and whine session than anything and I don't want to subject anyone to that if they don't want to see it. And it got way out of hand.
(note: this whole thing is unedited)
Back in December I decided that I was going to take a break from posting, but because I was already done with several FoxQuin week fics, I decided to wait until after I was finished posting those fics to take a break from posting, even though that was inviting the possibility of things getting worse.
I used to be fine not getting comments, I had made my peace with it. I'm not sure why things started shifting for me last year, but it did.
By late September, early October, I was at the point that posting was just torturing myself. Any time I posted, I had to swallow down the disappointment of no comments, sometimes the first comments would appear days after posting, and sometimes they never appeared at all. 
I had some good fics I posted and even getting three comments on a chapter blew me away and made me excited- that's how little attention I'm used to my fics getting.
By December, I knew I was just torturing myself to keep attempting to post fics when the lack of comments got to me every time.
I know I'm not entitled to comments, heck I know why people don't comment. I hardly comment, it's hypocritical to demand comments when I struggle to even remember to comment before hitting kudos and subscribe and closing out the tab. I am working on commenting more consistently but it's a work in progress.
It still hurts. I know why it hurts, and I wish I could just make it stop. Because I love writing and I love sharing what I write with people even if I don't get comments. I love knowing that maybe there's a silent person out there who was impactd by the story.
I have always admired those who get many comments, who have an interactive audience who are all excited and vibing and sharing theories and excitement... I have always hoped for that myself but I don't really get that kind of interactions on my fics, just the generic comments of loving my fics. Sometimes, no one tells me what they love about my fics, what I'm doing right. No one comments on the parts I thought were particularly clever, on the big reveals, or anything. 
And it's fine if my fics aren't to anyone's taste, if I'm not as good of a writer as I think. I have an idea of my flaws, but I don't really intend on changing because every time I reread old fics, I adore them. I wrote them in a way that makes my brain happy, that is easy for me to read and I might spot some minor things, and things that I might change now, over a year later, but for the most part? What I know others might see as flaws are parts of fics that I adore.
It still hurts.
Maybe some of the trouble is just that when I write for events, particularly fandom specific events, my mind sees it as a gift to the community. 
But sometimes, I get even less interaction on my event fics. It hurts to write a gift to the community and to be so rejected as to not get a single comment. It hurts that the event fics that I pour my heart and soul into, trying to strike a balance in writing what I adore (though it's usually not the norm) and what the community loves, and I edit and post, thinking 'yeah! I nailed a lot of things this community. I put in x, y happened, and I even put in this popular fanon'. But then there's... nothing. No one cares that I put in all my effort to craft something that the community would love, often stepping out of my comfort zone to do so.
I know some of it is that I write strange headcanons that most people don't have, that I write rare pair ships, that my interpretation of things has no one group it belongs to because I often get a little from everyone.
Or maybe people don't comment because they don't like the responses I give, or because I haven't been responding to comments as much sense September.
Sometimes, not knowing is the worst. I have theories, but I don't know. If I do know it's because I'm an awful writer, great, I can put that to rest and I won't stop posting, but at least then I know what it is about me that people just don't like.
I know this is just a really self indulgent whine and who wants to read this, really? I'm not tagging it because I don't want people to come to my post. Because I am begging for attention, for someone to show me to care but I also know people hate that so I'm just posting this to have the vent out there, so I can pretend people saw and care. 
I know I'm not a big author, and I know now I won't ever be. I wish I was, I want people to love my work as much as I do. I want to nerd out with people.
I have been accepting that that's never going to happen. I can live with that.
But hardly getting comments... to the point that 5 of 7 FoxQuin week fics getting one or two comments, and 1 getting 5 is still making me get teary at all the positive things people had to say, all the nice comments.
I wasn't expecting that. I went in fully bracing myself for no comments on most fics and maybe 1 or 2 on two fics, if I was lucky. But that's not what happened. I got more comments than I'm used to and I kind of don't know what to do with them because I am so used to getting no comments at all that I am getting teary just thinking about it. 
Most of the time, all it takes is one or two comments to make my day. One if it's not a generic comment will have me going back to reread it several times a day until I finally respond. 
But no comments at all sends me to despair some days, especially on the fics I'm excited to post. Those getting no comments is devastating. Those days, where there's no comments within the first two days of posting just make me want to cry, and I don't know why it keeps hitting me so hard, or why it got worse last year. 
But that's why I decided to take a break from posting so that I can take some space, and hopefully by the time April comes around, posting without responses won't be so earth shattering. Hopefully I won't feel so rejected, so alone, so unimportant. 
I don't want to stop posting forever. At the very least I need to finish the ongoing stories I've already started posting.
But I needed to stop torturing myself. I needed to breathe and remind myself that it's not the end of the world and get some space from the tears that have been shed over lack of comments.
So... yeah. My mental state is not the best right now when it comes to posting, and I could have said worse things; I left out some of the really stupid irrational lines of thoughts that come up because I do spiral. I know how to handle it; I am safe at home. 
But I am losing spoons over it and I just can't keep doing this. 
I hope I can resolve this by April so that I can keep posting and don't grow too much of a backlog.
Thanks for reading my stupid, whiny, attention-seeking rant.
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I have been thinking a lot about this, and I've come to the conclusion that it's surreal that the H50 fandom, and the McDanno community specifically, have so seldom used a very specific trope, compared to others.
I remember a discussion, on a Good Omens server whether The Best Trope™ to portray A/C was the "fucking just once at the very beginning, then stopping and silently pining one for another until the very end" option, the "mutually pining for the other from the very beginning but never acting on it because of course it cannot be mutual, and then having the mutual OH moment and finally fucking" option, or even the (probably most favorite) one which was either called "fucking while pining" or "pining while fucking", a sort of intensified Friends with Benefits trope.
So, about Danny and Steve, I've seen the almost totality being the second one, with some egregious FWB (alas too rare, because someone kept throwing in girlfriends at any corner, and both of them are too good to be cheaters), but I noticed an alarmingly scarcity of the first kind of trope. It might be my fault, but I only found, what? Two or three.
Which, to me, is….baffling? I mean, let's just do this mental exercise for a moment.
I know we all love to point out that for Steve, meeting Danny was love at first sight, later consolidated by love at first punch, because he saw in Danny something fascinating and alluring, someone who didn't bow and salute and yell "Sir, yes Sir" and obey to Steve's role with no questions asked. That had been Steve normalcy until the moment he stumbled upon Danny, either obeying or being obeyed, but never giving or being given a choice. He was so fascinated by Danny's attitude and his stubbornness to keep his case, that the only way he had to keep this new, shining toy, was to ditch the Navy, go into the Reserves, put aside all his plans to leave, and accept the Governor's offer.
Because he had found something that had made him change his mind.
And then we have years and years of longing gazes, yearning stares, constant touching and hugging and caressing and being in each other's personal space, showing an intimacy and a tenderness and a trust, and simply put, a perfect synchrony and a perfect telepathy since the first moment, like they were always meant to walk together. And that stubborn refusal to build a life with someone else, postponing the choice and diluting the feelings, until the relationship, every relationship, fizzles out and vanishes. Danny keeping this sort of stubborn shadow that he could go back to what he and Rachel had, rebuild a time when everything was new and good, revive the corpse of some long dead love instead of committing to someone new. Steve hanging on the threads left by an on/off friends with benefits thing that they both left to die, and being the only one who sees a future of, because mourning something you once had is easier than blaming yourself for not taking what you want. Always going back to the other, finding that comfort they seem unable to find in anyone else. That comfort they look unwilling to look for in anyone else.
Yet, we could imagine something different here. Because let's be honest: for how impulsive Steve can be, that choice in his father's garage was a huge change into his plans, and plans are his field of expertise. He gathers intel, he plans, he acts. Straight to the point. Isn't it a bit odd that this steel-minded man, suddenly, impulsively, sees this man he knows NOTHING about, decides "Yes, this is the one. I want this one. I'll do everything I can to keep him", and ditches all his carefully plotted plans, and his career too? For how interesting and endearing it can sound, it's still an odd behavior.
But what if that moment in the garage hadn't been the first time he had met him? What if their mutual rage and aggressiveness had another explanation, aside from stubbornness, impulsiveness and alpha-maleness? What if their anger was simply a cover for another feeling, one like….Shock? Fear? Guilt? Shame? Better to yell, scream, point a gun, and take some pissing contest, see who's boss. 
Let's imagine. And see if it doesn't all make much more sense, this way.
It's the evening before their fatal meeting. Steve, after donning his dress blues to attend the service for burying his father, all authorities present, after paying his respects and taking care of what was left, before leaving to hunt Hesse, goes back to his temporary dwellings, dismisses his formal uniform, and sporting just his cargo pants and tee, goes to find some old joint to get thoroughly plastered, drinking at his father's memory. He gets inside, and proceeds with his plan, determined not to feel or remember a single thing about this day when he'll wake up the day after with the mother of all hangovers.
He purposely chooses some dubious, smoky, unnamed, not touristy alley, where it's obvious he can find only people with his same goal in mind, and no need to do small talk or mind someone else's business. He's halfway through his plan, remembering all things that could've gone better and all those that went spectacularly wrong, when he notices someone in a shadowy corner, not far from where he sits, sporting some of the sourest faces he's ever seen, one which makes him think this man, this haole who sticks like a sore thumb in a crowd of dark hairs and tan complexions, is having an even harder time than he is. Blondest hair Steve has ever seen, blond eyelashes fanning the bluest eyes, so blue they are shining even in the dark corner he sits in, blond stubble over his cheeks and around those rosy lips. Muscular shoulders and a chest to die for. Awakening something Steve thought long dead and buried. Wearing a goddamn tie over a tight shirt over dress pants. In Hawai'i. 
Of course, since Steve is already half-shitfaced, he doesn't notice he's been staring. For a while. And of course the haole has noticed. He gets up, bringing his scotch and glass with him, and lands on the seat opposite to Steve. Staring back. Silently. Until he barks out, voice raspy maybe for too much scotch or maybe too much crying (his eyes, so blue, are red rimmed, Steve can clearly see it from this near), if he's something to tell him or if he intends to keep on staring like a creep. If he's seen something he likes. And smiles.
Steve's heart does a complicated and not entirely funny thing, one it hadn't done in a long time, a very, very long time, since when he joined the Navy and the SEALs. Probably even before, surely before, when he started attending Annapolis and those muddled, hazy, flustering thoughts could've compromised his entire future and left him adrift, even more than he already was, without a purpose and a goal. So it was easy to decide to cut that side of him, keep only the allowed one, and never act on it again. Think, maybe. Dream, sure. Wish, sometimes. But never act because he had too much to lose, and anyway, it wasn't like anyone had ever made a mystery of finding it extremely easy to ditch and abandon him. The Navy, though, it was a sure thing, definitely an exigent owner, but a sure thing that would've never abandoned him as long as he obeyed, behaved, and kept sacrificing himself.
Now he's not on duty, though. He's no one, at least for these few days. He's just John's son, mourning his father and reading himself for a revenge mission that could take his life in the process. He's drinking alone in a shady bar where no one can recognize him after so many years, and surely not when his first impression on these people had been one of a fully decked out Officer in high uniform. And with a beautiful, lonely, sad man who's maybe interested in the same thing he is: forgetting everything that's going on in his life right now, forgetting everything just for this night, feeling good, feeling empty. But feeling good is surely a nicer option than feeling empty. And the haole is definitely interested in feeling good and empty at least for today. No explanations needed, no niceties, no buying drinks, no asking about what brings him here. So they carefully test the water before diving in headfirst, and just a look is enough to understand they are on the same page.
Steve is more careful than ever that no one would recognize him when he leaves the bar, the blond man following him at a distance as they walk the few alleys and streets to Steve's place while he's in Hawai'i, heading in just a few minutes after Steve and going straight to the point, in the half-light coming from the open curtains. It's not sentimental. It's not sweet. It's not meant to be, and yet….Yet there's some kind of instantaneous and instinctive connection between them, to the point that while they agreed this was just a one night thing, and they didn't need to know the other's bruises and griefs, or the reasons for taking this leap, for needing this kind of anonymous comfort, they can't help but exchanging their names. Just that. And if you know someone's name, you hold them in your power, or whatever that shit was. 
It's not romantic, but it almost is. And Steve is almost crying because of Danny's (the beautiful, golden stranger's name) protectiveness and gentleness with him, like he's sensing or understanding by experience alone that Steve might scowl and purse his lips all he wants, but he's way more inexperienced at this than he liked to think he was. Danny has strong hands, but they are so soft and careful, like he's accustomed to handling frail, little, tiny things, like people's hearts or children's hands. Steve, for the first time since when he was a little kid on his mother's knees, feels cared for. Loved, almost. And it makes him sick, because being loved and cared for is not something he's allowed to.
But this isn't love. This is a one night stand, and he's a Navy SEAL, and DADT is still in full force, and tomorrow he'll leave for his quest, and he'll never see this kind, caring, attentive man who's offered him at least one night of comfort like he's never felt even with Catherine (it had never been about the comfort with her, it was about taking a breath before diving again, and it was his role to be up to the task, always), giving without asking, offering without expecting. He had said he was looking for relief, but in reality he had offered it. This man who now is gathering his clothes, dressing back and heading for the door, a brittle smile on those gorgeous lips while he turns and looks at Steve for the last time before disappearing. This man whom Steve will never meet again, taking with him this memory of how people, even complete strangers, could be a beacon of life in the darkness that had swallowed him too long ago to remember a time where light existed. This man who clearly carried a heavy burden of his own, an unspoken pain, and whose eyes were so bright and yet so sad. 
Steve drifts to sleep too, wondering how much time will pass until he'll forget the beautiful stranger's face, and how much until the stranger does the same.
Funny how the answer to that question, just the following morning, would suddenly come to him while raising his gun and yelling at an uncomfortably familiar face, a face equally frozen when taking in his own face.
Of course, being partners, and being Steve technically Danny's boss (even if Danny has opinions, very loud opinions, on this matter), and being Steve still in the Navy, means that they look at each other over a beer that same evening, and with just one look agree that it must stay exactly as they had agreed: a one night stand among two strangers trying to run away from their nightmares for just some hours. And that's it. Or so they believe.
Turns out that when you know exactly how your partner and best friend looks like in the dim light of a bedroom, what he sounds like, what he tastes like, and how he is when he's at his most vulnerable….it's very difficult not to remember it constantly, and to fight back the yearning and the longing. Especially if you've been such an idiot to fall in love with a stranger you met in a bar. But they had agreed and shaken hands, and that had to be it. Living the rest of their lives, both of them, wanting to have just that one thing they thought the other considered the worst mistake of his life, not imagining he wanted it back so badly, so desperately, that everyone else coming in their lives could never stay enough before the ghost of that night hunted them out of Steve's or Danny's bed, and heart.
Funny how the answer to that question turned out to be Eternity.
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jammie3132 · 6 months
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Fandom: Glee Pairing: Blaine Anderson & Sebastian Smythe Rating: General Audience Story Summary: Sam's Goddaughter is upset and finally admits it's because she heard her fathers yelling at each other. He suggests they become detectives (like Batman) and go undercover to find out why. NOTES: Seblaine but primarily told through Sam's POV. There's a small section of just Sebastian and his daughter. 10 Days of Seblaine Day 2: Spies/Undercover Part 2 of Poppy's Little Angel This series is dedicated to @seblaineaddict
Maybe everyone was right. He shouldn’t have run off to Hawaii and married another model. Three months into their marriage, she was cast in a movie filming in some country Sebastian had to point out on a map of Europe. A week later he received the annulment paperwork.
Since he’d moved into her place, and they never put his name on the lease, he was now living with Blaine and Sebastian. Best BFFs ever for never once saying I told you so, unlike Santana who said it every chance she got.
It wound up his moving in worked out for all of them. Sebastian was filling in as choreographer on a friend’s directorial debut. It was only supposed to be a week. He was about to begin his second month. The show was having issues finding a new one after word got out why the last one quit.
This happened at the same time Blaine agreed to go back to his show before it closed and went on the road. Machiavelli the Musical really was Blaine’s show. He and a couple friends at NYU wrote it for one of their classes. It made it into the hands of the right people and *poof* sold out theaters and three Tonys for Blaine, including Best Actor for Machiavelli. All the fangirls (and boys) went nuts when they heard Blaine was returning for the final shows.
While people were sad to see Machiavelli the Musical close on Broadway, they understood Blaine and his partners were ready to move on to other projects. Not to mention, the three of them made a boat load of money selling the movie rights.
That’s why he (Sam Evans, male supermodel…well, in demand male model) agreed to become the babysitter (but he preferred Manny) for his favorite person in the world (his family and Blaine tied at a close second).
But something was wrong with his Goddaughter. She was never this quiet.
“Jellybean, what’s wrong?”
“Nuthin”
“Angelica Penelope Anderson-Smythe…”
“Unc Sammy, I said nuthin!”
Ok, something was definitely wrong. Angelica was the easiest going 4-year old you’d ever meet, which no one expected considering Blaine and Sebastian adopted her from a member of Sebastian’s family. Although, she did have her moments…like now.
“Uh-uh, you know the rule about yelling at people.”
The little girl rolled her eyes (there’s the Smythe gene) and flippantly grumbled “Don’t yell. Use your words to say why you’re mad.”
“Correct.”
“How come I got to do the rules but Poppy and Daddy don’t?”
“Because they’re adults and you’re 4.” Wait a minute…“What do you mean your Poppy and Daddy didn’t follow the rule?”
“I heard Poppy and Daddy yellin. Tommy says his mommy and daddy started yellin and now his daddy don’t live there anymore.”
Damn that Tommy kid. He might be Angelica’s preschool bestie, but he was also a total brat.
Thankfully, his brilliant Goddaughter was beginning Kindergarten at a school for musical prodigies in a few weeks. Blaine gave her a violin when she was 2 ½ and now she plays Beethoven. The school was so excited to get the daughter of two Tony winners, especially Blaine Broadway’s Golden Touch Anderson, they found a way around the 5 year-old requirement.
“Jellybean, I promise your Daddy and Poppy aren’t going anywhere.”
“Then why was they yellin?”
“I don’t know.” Then Sam had what he believed was best idea ever (unlike getting married). “Why don’t we become detectives and go undercover to find out?”
His idea brought out a 180 degree change in Angelica’s attitude. “Like superheroes?”
Maybe not that great of an idea. “No, detectives…kind of like spies. You can’t become a superhero until you turn 10. Remember?”
“Poppy says it’s cuz when Daddy was little, Unc Coop said NightBird could fly if he jumped off the roof of Grammy and Grampy’s house.”
Sebastian didn’t have a superhero problem. He had a Cooper goes overboard trying to be the fun uncle problem. And while 99% of the time it wasn’t an issue, Blaine’s brother had the habit of showing up unannounced whenever he booked a job in NYC.
“Yes, your Daddy was lucky he only broke his leg.”
“And his flying bone. It’s why NightBird can’t fly.”
Yes! She didn't fight the superhero rule. Sebastian wasn't going to kill him...or kick him out. He really enjoyed living there. “You know, Batman is a detective. I can find a (appropriate for 4-year old) movie (cartoon) so we can take notes on how he solves mysteries.”
“And have ice cream?”
“Duh. I’m pretty sure I saw a new carton of Chunky Monkey in the freezer.”
Angelica moved over on the couch until she could give him a hug. “I love you Unc Sammy.”
“I love you too, Jellybean.”
The next morning Sebastian entered his daughter’s bedroom to find her sitting in the rocking chair. “Why aren’t you still in bed, Angel?” he asked as he picked her up and joined her in the chair.
“I wanted to rock cuz you and Daddy has to go to his Not gonna do his show anymore party tonight and won’t be here.”
Sebastian sighed as he pulled her closer. When they adopted their daughter, Blaine was busy getting his musical into production. This meant he’d been her primary caregiver since they brought her home from Paris. He loved everything about being a full-time parent. He still questioned why he said Yes to helping his friend. However, today was (finally!) his last day. He hadn’t told anyone because it was Blaine’s big night, and he didn’t want to take away focus. “But you're coming to Daddy’s show before we go to the party, so you’ll see us then. And I can’t wait because you’re going to look just like a real angel in the new dress Auntie Tana and Auntie Britt bought you.”
“I am a for reals angel cuz I’m your Angel.”
He loved this little girl more than anything (Blaine was 1C. His ass was 1B) and thanked her every day for choosing him to be her Poppy. “That’s right and you have been since the first moment I saw you.”
“Do you miss Daddy?”
That was a strange question. “When I’m not home? Of course, I do. Did you think I wouldn’t? Or that Daddy wouldn’t miss me?”
“Maybe…I dunno.”
“Then why did you ask?”
“When people miss people they gets mad. When people gets mad they yell. I don’t like yellin. I guess it’s ok Joshy yells cuz he’s a baby.”
Brittany and Santana’s kid did have a set of lungs on him, that’s for sure.
“Well, don’t worry about me and Daddy yelling. Are we tired from work and sad because we don’t get to spend more time with our Angel? Yes. But for your information, Daddy and I had a date night after he came home from his show a couple nights ago.”
“A date night?”
“That’s right. You probably don’t remember because it’s been a while, but Daddy and I used to go out on a date once a week. Lately we’ve had to have them here. We don’t mind though because it’s not about where we would go, it’s about making the time special.”
“Like what?”
“Well, last time we cuddled in bed (had mind blowing sex), watched a movie and ate pizza.”
Everything Angelica remembered about being a detective disappeared. “Daddy let you eat in bed!? That’s not a me rule. That’s a everybody rule! Unc Sammy has to do the rule cuz he lives here!”
While father and daughter continued to rock and talk, Sam walked by the open door and smiled because he was aware of what was actually happening. Angelica asked a lot of questions during their (air quotes) detective training (watched a Batman cartoon). This was really bothering her. While he believed there wasn’t a problem, it wouldn’t hurt to see if he could get some clues from suspect #2.
He found Blaine in the kitchen, setting up to make waffles. In other words, a typical morning at the Anderson-Smythe’s. “Morning Sammy. Santana called. Josh had a fever during the night, and even though he’s doing better, she and Britt won’t be coming tonight.”
“So, no Munchkin slumber party with Uncle Sammy…got it. We'll have one some other night so his mommies can go out” Sam replied as he went to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of green juice. “I’m heading out to the gym.
Blaine put his hand on his chest and (overdramatically)pretended to be surprised.
This guy had two Tonys for acting?
“You’re going to the gym? Did you finally remember you have a bathing suit photo shoot in a couple weeks? Or did you have problems buttoning your jeans due to the My wife ran off to Bulgaria for a part in a movie she slept with the director to get pity party?”
Wow! When you put it like that…“I thought we agreed this was a no I told you so zone?”
“Yeah, for Santana. And I’m not saying I told you so. I was beginning to worry.”
“I haven’t been that bad.”
Blaine stopped mixing his batter and gave his best friend what Sam called his I would never call you dumb, but what you said was stupid stare. “I love you, but I’ve watched you eat more junk food in the last 10 days than in the previous 10 years. You also ate not one, but two cartons of Bas’ Chunky Monkey ice cream. I can only stop him from reverting back into Dalton Sebastian for so long.”
Oh, not good. “Jellybean ate some too.”
“Don’t make things worse.”
Blaine started to gather what else he needed. According to Batman, a good time to collect information was when the suspect was distracted. “I let her have some because she was upset.”
“Oh God, what did Tommy say this time?”
Told you the kid was a brat.
“How his parents used to yell at each other and how his father doesn’t live with them anymore.” Another Batman tip…when interrogating a suspect, always tell the truth, but give as little information as possible. That way you don’t have to remember lies you told and who you told them to.
“Good thing Ang doesn’t have to worry about me and Bas.”
That didn’t help. Hopefully Detective Jellybean was getting more out of suspect #1. “That’s what I told her. I’m out of here but don’t fret jet, I’ll still be able to get Jellybean after preschool.”
“Thanks again. But Sam, if I was you, I’d stop at the grocery on the way home and pick up some Chunky Monkey.”
Unfortunately, Blaine was right about the photo shoot. He had forgotten. And yes, he’d been off his game since she did what she did. And double yes, it was a mistake to skip the gym for 2 weeks. But, for the record, his jeans still fit…even if they were tight.
He had no idea how Blaine wore those pants back in high school.
Sam was 60% through his usual workout (oh, was he going to pay for that decision later) when his alarm to get Angelica went off. Today, of all days, it was important to be on time. Their afternoon had been meticulously scheduled by Sebastian to prevent a 4-year old I’m tired meltdown at Blaine’s show. It didn’t finish until an hour after her bedtime and who knows how long it would take to get home.
The most important part of Sebastian’s schedule was the block of time right before naptime, but it was also the most difficult to accomplish. Fridays were always eventful at preschool. The walk from there to Blaine and Sebastian’s wasn’t far. If Angelica didn’t finish her review of the entire day before they walked through the front door, he could kiss any chance of a nap goodbye.
By the time they were halfway home Sam learned how the teacher thought the new class hamster was a boy but it was a girl and now they’re going to have lots of baby hamsters. Since the babies would come after school got out, she couldn’t see them be born. That made her sad. The other big news was Emily lost two teeth the night before and found $20 under her pillow this morning from the Tooth Fairy.
$20? Talk about inflation!
But, once she finished with the Tooth Fairy atrocity, Angelica announced she was done. Sam knew better. “What happened during Share Time?” Share Time was her favorite time of the whole week. It always took the most time.
Did that brat say something else to upset her?
“I couldn’t share.”
Her answer concerned him enough to cross the street to a park and find a bench. It couldn't wait until they got home. Naptime was going to be a disaster. “Why couldn’t you share?”
“Teacher said to share what we’re goin do when we had no more school. All my friends are goin to lots of totally awesome places like to see Micky Mouse and the Princesses. Jordan is goin see Harry Potter. I don’t have someplace totally awesome cuz Poppy and Daddy works all the time.”
“Hey, I know for a fact they want to take you somewhere totally awesome, but your Poppy’s work keeps asking him to stay. But tonight’s the last night your Daddy is going to work. That’s why we’re going to the theater to watch and then your Poppy and Daddy are going to a big party to celebrate.”
Sam had no idea what he said but suddenly Angelica was off the bench and bouncing like Tigger. “I know why they’re goin to the party and I can’t go. It’s a date night! When I was being a detective, Poppy said he and Daddy use to have lots of them but now they do them at home. Tonight they can go out!”
“Nice work.” As Sam watched his Goddaughter continue to bounce an unpleasant memory popped into his head. “When you heard Poppy and Daddy yelling, did they sound mad?”
She stopped bouncing and put on her thinking face. “I don’t member. Sorry, Unc Sammy.”
“That’s ok. It’s just when I saw you bouncing, I remembered a time in high school when your Daddy got so super excited, he not only jumped around like you did, he talked really loud.”
“Like he was yellin?”
“Exactly like he was yelling. I had to keep telling him to tone it down.”
“Why was he excited?”
Oh shit! What was he thinking? If either Blaine or Sebastian found out he (ever so slightly) mentioned Blaine’s over the top proposal to his ex, Sebastian wouldn’t have to kill him. Blaine will have already disposed of his body. “He planned a surprise for someone. Your Daddy likes surprises.”
“If he’s makin a surprise, why didn’t he tell me? I like surprises too.” 
“Maybe the surprise is for you.” He probably shouldn't have said that.
His answer caused the bouncing to return. “Like goin somewhere totally awesome? Or a baby sister?”
That was new. 
“Maybe, but you can’t say anything. Ruining a surprise is a very bad thing. So bad it will put you on Santa’s naughty list. No matter how much you want to ask, you must be strong.”
“I’ll try.”
“Do…or do. There is no try.”
“That’s not what Yoda said. He said do or do not.”
Sam pulled her into a big hug. “You quoted Star Wars. I’m so proud of you.”
“Unc Sammy, you squishin me!”
“Oops, sorry. I was excited.”
“Like Daddy was excited?”
“Yes” Wait a minute. Nooooo...it couldn’t be. “Jellybean, do you remember any words you heard Poppy or Daddy say when they were yelling?”
“Not Poppy but Daddy yelled Poppy’s name. And he yelled Yes. He yelled Yes a lot…a lot, a lot.”
Ooooooooohhhhhhh, this was going to be fun.
Sam lifted his Goddaughter, settling her on his shoulders. “I think you solved our mystery, Detective Jellybean. I’ll see what I can find out. But remember…”
“Don’t say nuthin about my surprise or Santa will put me on the bad list.”
“You got it. Now, we need to get a move on. We’re already behind on your Poppy’s schedule so you’re going straight to your nap when we get home. No arguing. But first we have to stop at the grocery and replace Poppy’s Chunky Monkey. I have a feeling he’s going to need it later.”
1AM
Sam flipped channels as he awaited Blaine and Sebastian return. He was going to tell them everything as soon as they got home. There was no way he could sit on this, especially with Santana, Brittany and Josh coming to dinner since they missed Blaine’s performance and party.
His wait ended moments later when his friends practically fell into the apartment. Neither noticed him sitting on the couch, or that lights and the TV were on. They were too busy ripping each other’s clothes off.
“You know, I like porn as much as the next guy…”
That got their attention.
“Why are you still awake?” Blaine asked while straightening his clothes.
Sebastian wasn’t as polite. “First you eat my ice cream and now you’re cock blocking? I don’t care if you’re my husband’s brother from another mother…”
“Calm down Seb…no, seriously calm down or at least zip your fly. And I replaced the ice cream. There’s six pints of Chunky Monkey in the freezer.”
“I’m still kicking your ass later” Sebastian told him while leaving for the kitchen. With as pissed off as he was, Sam made a quick change in his plans. It was best if he told Blaine first.
Although, Blaine didn’t look much happier. “What the fuck is going on, and it better be good.”
Oh, it was good! “Remember this morning, technically yesterday morning…”
“Sam…”
“Do you remember when I said I gave Jellybean ice cream because of some shit Tommy said?”
“Kind of, something about his parents yelling and his dad moved out. I don’t understand why that’s important.”
“He didn’t randomly offer the information. Tommy told your daughter because your daughter told him she heard you and her other father yelling at each other.”
Blaine took a step back, obviously even more confused by what he was told. “That’s impossible! Bas and I wouldn’t yell so loud Ang would hear. Since we adopted her, we’ve become masters of silent arguing. But we haven’t had an argument in weeks, except about you eating his ice cream. She must have heard a television or something.”
“At first, I was thinking the same thing, but she was insistent. So, I devised an ingenious plan for us to become detectives and go undercover to figure out what she heard, or thought she heard.”
“Please tell me not as superheroes.”
“Detectives like Batman.”
“Ok, that works. Did you find out what she heard?”
“Yeah, the two of you yelling.”
“I told you that’s impossible.”
Sam had no idea how he was holding it together. He was to the point where he was biting the inside of his cheeks not to laugh. “Yes, you were. She couldn’t make out what Seb was yelling. However, you were yelling Bas, Bas…yes, yes, yes!” Blaine froze and went straight to the comically accurate wide-eyed, jaw dropped expression. It was getting harder not to laugh.
Sebastian chose this time to come back, eating his ice cream from the carton. “I’m still…” When he noticed what was going on he rushed over, setting his ice cream on the coffee table to embrace his husband. “B, what’s going on? Did something happen to your parents or some other member of your family?” Blaine was so far down the rabbit hole he couldn’t form words, only guttural noises. This only ramped Sebastian up even more. “What the fuck Evans?”
Seeing Blaine so upset had Sam torn. He felt bad for what he was going through…but DAMN IT! This was funny!
“Evans…”
Over the years, Sebastian had become his best friend not named Blaine. He’d appreciate the humor of the situation if it wasn’t happening to him. Oh well, he’ll appreciate it someday.
“I told him your daughter, your Angel, heard the two of you having sex.”
“That’s not possible!”
“That’s what he said!” THAT was funny…how it was he said, not she said. Ok, not the right time.
Blaine pulled back from his husband but grabbed ahold of Sebastian’s arms. Even in his stupor, he realized he needed to be the calm one. While he loved his daughter, she was Sebastian’s Angel. “He’s telling the truth Bas.”
“How do you know?”
“Because Angelica told Sam she heard me yelling your name and the word yes. Oh my God, I’ve scarred my poor baby for life!”
“No, you didn’t” Sam told him as he sat back on the couch and put his feet up on the coffee table (breaking at least ten of Blaine’s rules). “I, the best Godfather and friend in the world, saved you.”
Both fathers moved to the loveseat across from him. “How?” Sebastian asked cautiously. Maybe they didn't want to know.
“I told her a very generic story, with no details whatsoever, about a time in high school when Blaine planned a surprise…”
“What?!” Blaine and Sebastian exclaimed in unison, Sam’s vailed explanation unable to hide he was talking about Blaine’s proposal to Kurt.
“The two of you are going to wake Jellybean up if you can’t keep your voices down. The reason you're in this mess in the first place.”
“Sam” Blaine said as calmly as possible, channeling his true feelings into his continued grasp of Sebastian's arm. “How did you save us?’
“I told her you get excited when you plan a surprise, meaning you bounce like Tigger and your voice goes up until you’re talking very, very loud.”
“Oh, that’s actually believable.” Blaine looked at Sebastian who was nodding agreement.
“Good, because I convinced her you weren’t yelling you were excited…which wasn’t a lie.”
“Sam…”
“You two are killing my fun. Anyway, your daughter no longer believes you were yelling but planning a big surprise. There’s one tiny problem. She thinks the surprise is for her.”
Both fathers sighed and relaxed a bit. Sam really had saved them, but they also knew there was more to the story. Sebastian was the one brave enough to ask " Did Angel give you an idea what she wanted for her surprise?”
“A big, totally awesome trip somewhere. And when I say big, I mean huge! Something to make all her little friends jealous, even though she'll be going to a different school and won't see them again."
This time it was Blaine’s turn to be upset. “How could you tell her we’re going to surprise her with something like that? It will be next to impossible to get into anywhere Ang would consider totally awesome. Parents make those reservations months, sometimes years, in advance. Not only that, Bas’ show still hasn’t found a choreographer…”
“Yes, they have.”
Blaine could've gotten whiplash with how fast he turned his head. “What? Bas?”
“Today, technically yesterday, was my last day. Before you get upset, I didn’t say anything because last night was your night. And since I wouldn't have gone in the next couple days because I didn't work weekends, I was going to wait to surprise you and Angel at breakfast on Monday.”
Blaine rested his head on Sebastian's shoulder. The time, the alcohol from the party and the stress of this conversation had caught up with him. “With as happy as I am to hear you're finally out of there, I think I’m done with surprises for a while.”
Sam cleared his throat to bring attention back to him. “There’s one more thing you should know.”
“Sam, I can't take any more beating around the bush. Please, just tell us.”
“If you don’t want to surprise Jellybean with a totally awesome trip, she did mention something else.”
“What?”
“A baby sister.”
Blaine heard Sebastian gasp before quickly covering his mouth and shaking his head. He then looked back to Sam who was not only nodding but eating the ice cream Sebastian had forgotten. Suddenly, a totally awesome vacation sounded like a fantastic idea.
“Come on, Bas. Let’s get to bed. Tomorrow you can take Ang to MOMA and I’ll call a travel agent I know to see what our vacation options are.”
Sam called out Goodnight as they left the room but they weren’t paying attention. Had he gone too far…maybe. But was there a good way to tell your friends their 4-year old daughter had heard them having sex?
In spite of the time, he turned the television back on and found a show to watch while he finished his ice cream. “You know, I’m a pretty great detective. I should get a PI license when my modeling career is over. Or, I could get a PI license now and keep eating ice cream.”
Notes:
In my mind Machiavelli the Musical is similar to A Very Potter Musical but with more money for production.
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brooklynislandgirl · 5 months
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Tagged By: The lovely Carrie @grimmusings and thank you, dear! Tagging: Be Fae, Steal this. ~*~
I. how long have you been roleplaying?
I do not even know how or where to begin answering this because I do believe I was a freshman in high school when I was first introduced to D&D {Dragonlance was the world/setting} and I took to it like a fish to water. A long time after that, I was introduced to the early days of the internet and the concept of real-time chats {mIRC}. I met my future husband in one, and the two of us then found an rp chat. Within a few weeks, we'd been asked to co-run a portion of that rp. About six months later, we were living together, and running that game, a couple in real life, and others. Fast forward a million years and a million iterations of online rp and here we are. {{AOL, MSN communities/chat, Eyechat, InvisionFree and other message boards, private email/etc, and now- Tumblr and Discord. I've pretty much been there, done that with almost every place. Except Twitter, and Facebook.}} II. what got you interested in roleplaying?
I have been a lifelong reader. I was diagnosed as a "gifted" child in the days of yore, mostly because I was reading by the age of four, and I think at some point, I wanted to make stories too. My very first fan-fiction began at the age of 8. Tabletop RP is still my first rp love, though online rp has become a close second. If RP didn't exist, I would still be around somewhere, writing stories and living inside of my own imagination. III. are there any lesser played canon characters you’d like to see in your community?
I have a complicated relationship with canon characters. Two of my oldest friends and I are often dismayed. Back in OUR day, canons were rare and treated with a certain suspicion and disdain. And unfortunately, a lot of people seem to be trapped in a mindset that Canon are the be-all, end-all and don't give OCs a fair shake because they had 'one bad experience, once, a hundred years ago'. Or the whole 'I don't know how to interact with you' even if the OC is built for your fandom, and yet your top three partners are other canons from fandoms that have nothing to do with yours. <eye roll>. I think I find something very disingenuous about that when I see a lot of 'canons' that seem to have only a vague idea about their muse, choose only the flavour of the month fc for them, and just generally come across as ooc/lazy/sloppy. But I am a fandom dinosaur, with a background in creative writing, novel-writing, and 20+ years of rp experience. My standards are so incredibly high. That being said... Justified, Dark Shadows {not the Johnny Depp monstrosity} anyone/thing from the World of Darkness, Dragonlance, Foggy Nelson, Firefly, Vertigo/Indie comics, Valiant Comics....Horatio Hornblower, Sharpe's Rifles, and any historical genre, really. IV. would you consider writing them?
For the right reasons, the right partner, yes. But most of the time I prefer telling new stories in a beloved world/au. V. what do you enjoy the most about creating ocs? I bet you'd NEVER guess that I am really neurotic/overly serious when it comes to making a character. I will sit there for literally months, contemplating their every minute of life before and up to the moment I am ready to debut them. I will know 12 generations of their family. I will know a couple dozen fandoms they might fit in and how they would relate to things. The only aspect I don't really control or try to map out is what canon and other oc muses they might get on with. That's part of the fun of actual rp, forging connections.
Maybe the trouble is...I want to give everyone my absolute best. I want to offer a rewarding experience to people, and thus the standards I carry for myself are excruciatingly severe. But I *can* be silly and fun, once the story begins.
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drades-lair · 1 year
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Pregnant Stolas PT1
Fandom: helluvaboss
Pairing: Blitzo/Stolas/Striker
Rating: T for swearing mostly
Panic, panic was the only thing that described how Stolas was feeling currently. Three days ago, Stolas participated in the usual full moon activities with Blitz and Striker which was amazing like always unfortunately he’d forgotten about something very important. Nineteen years ago when he and Stella were trying to have Octavia, Stolas had consulted the grimoire where he found a spell that would allow him to potentially conceive the only problem was it wasn’t a single go spell...essentially after casting the spell Stolas would become fertile immediately then once again every 10 years for 2 weeks and of course this full moon had landed on the first day of those 2 weeks. Stolas had completely forgotten about the spell till today when he awoke feeling off, upon remembering the spells cycle Stolas started using his magic immediately to check to see if he was pregnant…he was. Luckily Striker and Blitz were off on a job currently leaving Stolas a bit of time to try to figure out how to tell them…especially Striker who on more then one occasion had expressed how he didn’t want to be a father. Stolas sat on the edge of his four-poster bed in the master bedroom of the palace with his head in his hands, heart racing at the thought he could potentially lose one of his mates or perhaps both if Blitz decided he didn’t want to have a child with him. Worst of all though was even if he told them there was no guarantee the egg, he lays is fertile making things even more complicated.
 The imps returned 3 days later from their relatively simple job instantly becoming aware of Stolas’ odd behavior. Stolas could get busy with his princely duties however since they got back Stolas seemed to be busier then usual to the point it was more like he was avoiding them. Stolas would wait till they’d gone to bed before joining them, he wore more clothing specifically baggier clothing, he often ate in his office with the door shut and got so he locked the bathroom door when bathing. Blitz was concerned from the jump about Stolas’ behavior however Striker had been a little more reasonable with his concern simply assuming Stolas was stressed about work or something to that effect until that is a 2-week period passed with the behavior getting worse instead of better at which point even Striker was growing a little worried. The imps decided that perhaps a night together might put Stolas back into proper sorts thus one night they stayed up unbeknownst to Stolas surprising him when the prince entered the bedroom to find both imp’s waiting for him.
“Oh! I didn’t know you two were still awake,” Stolas nervously stated.
“We thought tonight would be a good night to have a little fun,” Blitz seductively explained with a little eyebrow wiggle.
“Oh…um…I see…” Stolas stammered nervously as he tried to figure out how to get out of this.
“Yeah, gonna treat Ya right,” Striker seductively drawled coming around behind Stolas.
“That’s…very kind…truly but…” Stolas stammered again desperately trying to find some excuse to get out of this.
“Just relax babe,” Blitz cooed, grabbing the hem of Stolas’ baggy gray T-shirt to slide his hands under it. Stolas immediately became alarmed at this action however his response was too slow, Blitz managed to slide the shirt up before Stolas could stop him promptly revealing the prominent bump Stolas had developed over the last couple weeks.
“Blitz, Stop!” Stolas declared only to stare in horror as Blitz looked on in shock.
“What the?” Striker questioned also staring at what Blitz could see.
“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you!” Stolas was in a full-blown panic attack, hands pulling down his shirt as he curled in on himself trying desperately to not make any eye contact with either imp, breath coming in short heaving gasps.
“Hey, whoa! Easy Stolas, look at me. Take a couple deep breaths,” Blitz encouraged, cupping his hands around Stolas’ face to make the prince focus on him. Tears pricked the corners of Stolas’ eyes as his gasps turned in to partial sobbing hiccups.
“Easy Stolas, easy…try ta breath through it,” Striker encouraged next, rubbing a gentle hand along Stolas’ back as the prince sunk to the floor.
“I should…told you…” Stolas sobbed as he pulled his knees to his chest.
“Told us what?” Blitz wondered.
“I’m…pregnant…” Stolas hiccupped.
“What!?” Both imps simultaneously exclaimed in surprise.
“That can happen?” Blitz wondered arching an eyebrow.
“Mm-hm…it was a spell…19 years ago…I forgot about it and now…you’re both going to leave me,” Stolas uncontrollably sobbed burying his face in his arms, wrapping them around his knees.
“Whoa! Where’d Ya get that idea?” Striker asked a little taken back by Stolas’ out burst.
“Oh please…you’ve already told me you don’t want a child and…I’m sure…neither of you appreciate me…keeping this from you…trust was everything…between us…” Stolas rambled through tears.
“Stolas…that’s not true…we’re not going anywhere,” Blitz tried to reassure his distressed mate.
“Yeah, we’re still here aren’t we,” Striker added.
Blitz gently rubbed his hand up Stolas’ forearm while Striker continued rubbing the prince’s back, leaning in to nuzzle at Stolas’ temple. After a few moments Stolas lifted his head slightly prompting the imp’s to gingerly pull him to his feet, guiding him to the bed where they settled on either side of the Goetia. Stolas still pulled his knees to his chest while refusing to look at his mates, simply staring straight ahead with tears still rolling down his cheeks.
“So how did this happen? And have you been pregnant this whole time?” Blitz asked gently.
“Yes, when me and Stella were trying for Via, we were having trouble conceiving so I consulted my grimoire to see if there was something that would help…I located a spell that would allow me to conceive in Stella’s place. We were desperate so I cast the spell…it would make me instantly able to conceive…but…it was going to be a permanent spell. Once every 10 years I’d be able to potentially conceive again for 2 weeks.” Stolas began to explain.
“When did it happen?” Striker asked.
“On the full moon…I completely forgot it was coming up…I’m so sorry! I’ve not had anyone for so long…normally it’s not really a problem,” Stolas exclaimed starting to sob again.
“It’s okay…you don’t need to apologize,” Blitz assured Stolas rubbing his shoulder for comfort.
“Blitz is right, don’t stress yer self,” Striker agreed.
“Look, explain how this all works,” Blitz encouraged.
“Well, in about 2 more weeks I’ll be laying,” Stolas sniffled.
“Wait! You’re going to give birth in 2 weeks?” Blitz wondered once again taken off guard.
“Yes, in the Goetia family we’re only pregnant for 5 to 6 weeks then we lay either one or two eggs,” Stolas explained.
“So, in two more weeks we’re going to have a baby?” Blitz asked seeking confirmation.
“Um…not…necessarily…just because I lay doesn’t mean the egg or eggs will be fertile. We can have duds,” Stolas continued.
“Oh…there’s no way to tell before hand?” Blitz wondered curiously.
“No, we’ll find out once I lay…but…there’s already something strange…I’ve gained so much weight…more then what should be normal for even two eggs,” Stolas explained in a concerned tone, shifting slightly to pull his shirt up.
“Have Ya seen anyone about it?” Striker asked returning Stolas’ concerned look.
“No, I was afraid you two would find out if I tried to see a doctor,” Stolas sheepishly admitted.
“We’ll need ta fix that…Ya need to take care of yer self,” Striker insisted.
“I have a doctor I can call…she’s the royal physician…I just haven’t,” Stolas explained.
“Good, you’ll call her first thing tomorrow and get you looked at,” Blitz insisted.
Stolas gave a nod of agreement as the two imps settled by him, eventually all three of them falling asleep. The next day Stolas called the royal physician to have her come check on him as agreed however the out come of the exam was not what any of them were expecting, Stolas was fine luckily yet he was currently carrying 3 eggs instead of 1 or 2. In the history of the Goetia family there had never been 3 eggs laid at one time let alone all three being fertile now of course at this stage the physician couldn’t tell if they were fertile or not but the fact Stolas was carrying three was enough of a surprise. The physician agreed to keep a close eye on Stolas till he laid which she’d also help with in about 2 weeks time.
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Hi! I love love love your Lukanette writing, it brings warmth to my heart 💛 I was simply wondering, if you’re comfortable answering, what drew you to writing fanfic?
🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖
I promise I was not ignoring this ask! I just require 5-10 business days to come out of the compliment induced mush puddle. It honestly makes me so happy to know that my writing brings warmth to your heart, because that's really what i want my writing to do is bring people joy 💖💖💖
I don't mind you asking at all! I love it when people ask me questions about my writing, and if it's something I'm not comfortable sharing I just let people know!
I've put it under the cut because the context that I feel is necessary makes it kind of long. 😅
I also want to, at this point, warn people that there will be mentions of workplace abuse. I'm not going into any detail, but it is relevant to how I started writing Lukenatte fanfic, so I wanted to warn anyone who might read this.
If you want the short version: I've always loved writing, and the Lukanette corner of the internet brought me great comfort in a time when I needed it. I started writing Lukanetts fanfic on a whim, and it was incredibly healing for me.
I have always loved and been fascinated by stories ever since I can remember. I would always make up stories in my head when I couldn't sleep and my book tapes had reached the end of their play time (I still make up stories in my head). I was pretty young when I wrote my first fanfic, though I use that term loosely because I was in grade three or four and I think I got two or three pages in before I got distracted.
But writing has been something that I have always gravitated to at every point in my life. Once I hit about grade 5 I started writing a lot of original short stories and a lot of poetry. In junior high I started writing longer stories, though I never actually finished them. I honestly can't remember if I read much fanfic when I was in junior high, I try not to think about my junior high years too much.
In high school I fell into reading fanfic, though I don't exactly remember how I fell back into it. High school was a super busy time for me, so I didn't write very much for fun during those years but I always had ideas for stories I wanted to write.
Once I started undergrad I was super busy and didn't have much time for writing, and very little time for reading fanfic. That didn't stop me from thinking of stories I want to write, both original ideas and ideas for fanfic for the various things I was interested in.
Then we fast forward to after I graduated from undergrad. Things were rough; my job was causing my health to suffer and I didn't have any time for any of my creative outlets, including writing. And then things got really bad.
I took up a teaching contract that absolutely destroyed me. I won't go into details of what the abuse looked like because that is rather personal and something I don't want to share. But for two months straight I was working 12-14 hour days (including on weekends) and I wasn't able to eat or sleep due to stress. When I finished that contract, I was barely functioning. I was not in a good place.
As I was trying to recover from the trauma of that experience, I rediscovered the Miraculous fandom, and specifically the lukanette portion of it. I started reading the fanfics, and they brought me so much comfort in a time when I really needed it. A few months passed of me lurking on the fringes, not writing and not really engaging on tumblr (I was too shy and unsure of myself). And then one day, I don't know what happened (though I do remember it was a day in June), I just opened a google doc and started writing. I entered a writing frenzy almost, and then I blinked, and it was two weeks later and I had a 60 000 and counting story in front of me. And it was then that I realized that for the first time in a really long time, I felt a bit like my old self.
So I kept writing. I spent that entire summer writing, both continuing that story and starting new ones. And every day, i felt a bit better. Looking back, writing those stories was the first thing I had truly done for myself in years.
By the end of that summer, I wanted to try posting some of my writing. I was absolutely terrified for a lot of reasons, but I'm really proud of myself for doing the thing that scared me. And I'm grateful because becoming an active member of this community has led me to make so many incredible friends and challenge myself in my writing, and it has helped me continue to heal.
And even though I write for myself, knowing that my writing brings joy, or comfort, or makes someone laugh honestly fills my heart, because as much as my writing is for me, I also hope my stories can provide some of the comfort those pics brought me. 💖
So that's the short (but still long) story of how I came to be writing Lukanette fanfic. Thank you for taking the time out of your day to tell me what my stories mean to you, and to ask about my writing 💖
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danganronpa-21 · 2 years
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Rating: Teen and Up Audiences
General Warnings: N/A
Fandoms: Danganronpa (Series)
Relationships: Naegi Makoto/Kirigiri Kyoko
Additional Tags: Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Dorks in Love, Pocky Game, Romantic Teasing, Seriously Kyoko is just the most playful partner through all of this
Summary: Makoto and Kyoko have a bit of a history with the Pocky game. Back in their days at Hope's Peak, they'd tried to compete against one another in a round of the game... but Makoto's early breakaway left behind some unsatisfying results. Now, several years later, the two are married and just as in love as ever. Still, with the situation being such an embarrassing memory for Makoto, Kyoko can't help but want to give her husband a chance to redeem himself.
Word Count: 3667 words
Chocolate banana pocky meant that Kyoko was up to something.
 It certainly seemed innocent on the surface, didn’t it? The fact that Makoto’s wife had brought home such a nice little treat? Most men would have been delighted by her decision. Hell, some might even call him lucky – he’d heard from some of the other married teachers at Hope’s Peak that their partners had them on diets or restricted their intake of sugary goodies! The mere idea that he could even raise an eyebrow at something as innocent as a box of chocolate banana pocky must have been unthinkable to them.
 Yet, there he was, trying not to glance at the pocky too much as he helped her put away the groceries. The sight of that long yellow box, all neatly packaged by hand… it was almost enough to make him forget that Kyoko bought the expensive chili oil again. Where did she even find it? With the Tragedy, the company behind pocky fell out of business. With worldwide starvation, thousands of businesses like Ezaki Glico crumbled. Numbers of workers dwindled; light snacks lost their importance to people. Survival became the biggest concern of all, and so, most people favoured any fresher foods they could find. Treats hit an all time low in popularity. Still, he supposed that didn’t mean that people couldn’t choose to bring back the brand now that things were starting to recover. He just hadn’t been expecting the revival of pocky so soon.
 “See anything interesting at the marketplace?” He asked semi-nonchalantly, stealing one last peek back at her as he started to unload a bag of shiny Fuji apples. They’d been craving them recently. “I know Hagakure-kun had said they were setting up more services there.”
 “I didn’t see too many of the new people, to be honest,” she smiled softly. “I was mostly just focused on getting our groceries. I wanted to make sure that I got the right kind of seaweed this time.”
 Makoto couldn’t help but laugh and shake his head. Talk about ironic. “All that effort went into finding the right seaweed, and yet you forgot about buying the right kind of chili oil.”
 “Oh, I didn’t forget,” he could hear her smirk in her voice without even turning to look. “Mine just tastes better.”
 He poked his tongue out at her from between his lips. “Yeah, well, it also costs twice as much, Kiri. Maybe you can afford to spend your life’s savings on chili oil, but I have my eyes on a retirement plan, thank you very much.”
 “It’s ¥1295, Makoto.”
 “And maybe that’s just ¥295 too many. Let’s save the expensive chili oil for when we’re all old and weathered by the world.”
 Letting out a pfft sound, Kyoko rolled her eyes. “I feel as if we have been through enough to consider ourselves weathered at the ripe young ages of twenty-four and twenty-three. The problem is merely that you just like to be impossible sometimes.”
 Talk about the pot calling the kettle black, he thought to himself. Kyoko loved to have things her way. Most of the time he was able to work with her stubbornness, but every once in awhile, it was just a bit exasperating. Sometimes it was nice to be able to pay it back to her like this… but only if it was teasingly. So, all he did in this situation was laugh and shake his head. What kind of husband would he be if he liked causing his partner undue trouble?
 “So, did you see anything else interesting while you were gone? Maybe you didn’t see a whole bunch of people, but did you see any interesting products? Anything we might need to swing by and check out, or something?”
 She paused for a moment, the already upturned corners of her mouth twitching even further. She had been waiting for him to say something. Oh, he could only imagine how pleased with herself she was on the way back from her trip, probably giggling to herself. Teasing him and testing his deductive abilities were two of her favourite things to do, so it came as no surprise that she tried to pair them together. It wasn’t the first time she’d tried something like this, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last.
 “So you noticed the pocky, did you?” She purred, resuming her unpacking of the groceries into their refrigerator. Of all of the things in her grocery bag, her little treat seemed to be what she wanted to keep for last, even if they both knew it was going to be the star of the show. “I’m glad you caught on so quickly. Do you recall the relevance of the flavour?”
 “Choco banana? Like I could forget,” he sighed, arms crossing across his chest, “It’s like the one flavour of pocky I couldn’t eat for awhile.”
 “Oh, come now Makoto,” Kyoko said, pressing a finger to her lip in faux-innocence, “Did you find me that revolting when we were young?”
 His brows knitted themselves together, fighting off a pout. Had she not realized just how embarrassing that situation actually was for him? The others poked fun at him for weeks afterward. The gossip spread far enough that Komaru had started mocking him over it, and she didn’t even go to school with them! “You know that’s not what I meant.”
 “Yes, I do…” Half of a shy smile still reigned on her face. “But did you really stay away from chocolate banana pocky after that incident?”
 He nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I couldn’t help it. Every time I saw it, my face got red all over again, and I kicked myself for having embarrassed myself so badly in front of you. It got to the point where Komaru would point it out every time we were in the store. For something that I didn’t want to make into a big thing, I sure made it into one for myself.”
 Kyoko shook her head sympathetically. “You really were – and are – far too hard on yourself. Honestly, I did not think anything of it apart from a bit of disappointment.”
 “I disappointed you?”
 She shrugged. “Only a little. I believe I’ve told you that your affection was reciprocated much earlier than the Tragedy.”
 That much he knew to be true. In a way, thought, that made it feel worse. If she liked him as much as he liked her, then she must have been looking forward to being wrapped up in that challenge with him. Winner or stalemate, it still would have been time they spent together. She would be close to him, feeling his warm breath on her face, admiring the tiny flecks of brown in his otherwise green eyes… Other incidents proved that neither of them were prepared to make that first step in kissing each other, especially not when their friends were making fun of them, yet guilt pooled in his stomach anyway. If the shoe was on the other foot, he figured he’d be about where she was: understanding, yet disappointed nonetheless.
 “You have,” he muttered, biting at his lip absent-mindedly, “But that disappointment is proof enough to me that it would have meant something.”
 To this, she laughed softly. “Of course it would have meant something, Makoto. It’s you. You always meant something to me,” she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “That being said, your early loss was not soul-crushing for me. To be frank, I found it endearing. You’re rather winsome when you’re flustered.”
 Heat rose in his cheeks and the tips of his ears. Ironic that his body could take the words as cue. Their relationship had held for awhile now, yet her compliments still caught him off-guard. No one was quite sure why. Sometimes he wondered if it was embarrassment at being complimented despite his blandness, but Kyoko assured him that couldn’t quite be right. While imperfect, his self-image was in a continuous state of improving. Humility, however, was something she insisted was still among his strongest traits, and that she believed was the reason for all of his blushing.
 “Still, I… I would’ve liked to deliver for you. Even if it was just a few more bites than last time, I’d have felt better about myself…”
 A brief pause hung in the air, and with it, Makoto realized that they had both stopped unpacking. Instead, the pressure of her gaze now rested upon him, and though he could feel the warmth she held for him, actually meeting her eyes seemed a bit scary – almost as if they would be laced with that same expectation she had in their youth. Still, she was the love of his life; he trusted her. So without another thought, he drifted his gaze back to her. It was a battle, trying not to look completely and utterly meek, but he liked to think he knew how to do that. The fact that she had a schemer’s smirk when his eyes met her did little to help his attempt, though.
 “Makoto, why do you think I bought the pocky when I saw it?”
 His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. Was she testing his deductive reasoning, teasing him, or both? Both, he decided, was the most likely answer. It was usually both. “Because you… wanted to give me a second chance?”
 She quirked a brow. “Is that your final answer?”
 He nodded a little too formally, making her snicker. “Yes ma’am.”
 “Well, since you properly recognized my ambitions… are you willing to give it a try?”
 A smile played at his lips and he nodded again. “Yes ma’am,” he parroted.
  _______________________________________________________________
 Never in his life had Makoto felt so daunted by a cookie stick.
 Okay, maybe that wasn’t true.
 Considering this whole situation was redemption from a previous incident, he definitely had been this daunted by a cookie stick before. Even so, this time deserved second place in the cookie stick reign of terror. Kissing his wife would be an easy feat… but kissing his wife, while nervous, in an effort to redeem himself after previously having chickened out of kissing her because he got nervous? That was much harder than anyone would likely give him credit for, but he was determined to do it.
 Kyoko didn’t seem at all bothered by the situation. In fact, he kind of expected that she was relishing it a little bit. A faint grin rested on her lips as she took her place across from him on the loveseat, burnt hands making easy work of opening the box to pick out a piece. Well, until she met with the obstacle of the internal package. She frowned at that.
 “I forgot that they used to package them like this,” she complained, removing the shining silver packaging with a sigh, “You’d think in a post-Tragedy world they would try and make these more straightforward.”
 Makoto shrugged. “They wanted to make it authentic to the original experience. I doubt it’s the same company.”
 Her gaze did not lift from the package as she fumbled with it, trying to tear it open. Poor Kyoko. While often she could manage to get things open on her own, other times, her gloves made everything slippery and damn near impossible to handle. “Not quite. One of the gentlemen there used to work at the production facility, but since the company’s disbanded and all, it’s tough to say whether we should consider it authentic.”
 He reached out a hand in mercy of his poor wife, who surrendered the package to him with a slight pout. Gloves one, Kyoko zero. “I’d say that’s about as good as it gets, then. I’ll bet you they taste even sweeter handmade.”
 She rolled her eyes. “Because they’re made with love?”
With one last tug, he tore the package open. “You said it, not me,” he snickered, angling it towards her to let her select whichever stick she liked. He hoped she would avoid commenting on his shaking hands – even if they were shaking the whole package a bit.
 Much to his relief, she said nothing. Instead, she carefully pressed a stick between the tips of her fingers, and pulled it from the package. The movement was so precise that he couldn’t help but feel a little jealous. Often when he pulled pocky from the package, he somehow managed to get all the little broken pieces from the bottom everywhere. Her movements oozed so much more elegance than he could have ever hoped to have. While it evoked jealousy in him sometimes, most days he couldn’t help but be in love with it, just as he was in love with the rest of her. Plus, he did have the victory of opening the outer packaging to hold over her. Sometimes he got to be the elegant one.
 That reminder of his love, no matter how small, overwhelmed his mind as his wife placed the pocky between her soft pink lips, delicate features pinched in focus as she moved the stick from her mouth to her teeth. He wondered if the treat or her lips would taste sweeter. He supposed he would have to keep her playing until he could kiss her and find out. Wiping his palms on his jeans one last time, he raised his brows at her as if to ask if she was ready. She raised hers in return, a smile threatening to form on her face. That was all of the indication he needed to lean in and take the cookie stick between his own teeth.
 Their gazes locked the moment he bit the other end, violet fixed on olive, both sides twinkling with the same wonder of their high school days. Staring at her now, Makoto could almost picture that first moment they’d had together, when their friends had roped them into the challenge.
 Kyoko’s eyes seemed so much more intense back then. They were always sharp due to their unusual colour, but he recalled it feeling so much more focused than any other stare he’d come across. There was always a twinkle of curiosity in them when he spoke to her; a piqued interest he was never sure how he accomplished. Her eyelashes weren’t unusually thick and long, but every blink had been like its own expectation. Their faces so close like that, with her looking right at him, had made his stomach stir with butterflies and his face rush with heat. She certainly wouldn’t have been trying to look so intense, but it was undeniable.
 Thinking back to it now, he wondered if she knew how tightly she held her jaw that day. She had to be somewhat light, lest she break the pocky when she hadn’t meant to, but he could see it tremble ever so slightly as she stared. He couldn’t say he blamed her; it was hard to keep it in position when you were so looking forward to something. The joking encouragement from their classmates would have only served as a further distraction and made her falter. He hadn’t known it at the time, yet Aoi’s urges for one of them to take a bite must have been the most intense thing for her. Was her heartbeat thundering in her head like his had been? Were her palms so slick with sweat that her cellphone could slip out of her hand like a bar of soap? She managed to keep her blush down and her breathing straight that day; however, she struggled just as he did. She felt just as he did.
 Staring at her now, he reminded himself of that thought. She felt just as he did. And with that thought reigning in his mind, fixated on the image of his gorgeous spouse, Makoto took the first bite.
 It wasn’t big by any means. Pathetic is how Byakuya might have described it. Really, it might be better classified as a nibble, but it was a movement forward, and that in itself was something to be proud of. With that alone, he was already getting closer to where he was before – so much closer to beating his high score. That same smile that was teasing Kyoko before returned with a vengeance, and one of her brows quirked jokingly at him. If the pocky game was built for anyone on this earth, then it must have been his Kyoko. A game with sweets and playfully taunting your partner? Just perfect for her, and he could see it in her face as she took her own bite forward.
 It was bigger than he thought it’d be. She was far bolder than he, but that was no surprise. As long as they had known each other, that was how it had been. No complaints from him on the matter. That boldness was fairly attractive in its own way, and often prompted him to bring out some of his own. Bite.
 A blink of surprise from her told him all he needed to know. With that, they were almost at stage two of the game: a perfection replication of their past. Still, the trembling of his hands would not settle. He found himself clutching at his pantlegs just so he could release some of the tension. Temptation to dart his face away continued to engulf him, but he resisted, focusing on the beauty of his partner’s face and the stick of sweet chocolate between their lips.
 Unlike him, Kyoko had no hesitation. She bit back again. And then again, a mischievous glint in her eye betraying her. The succession was just slow enough that he could see her cheekiness; she wanted him to notice. She meant it to be a challenge. A call to action, even. She wanted to push him further to win, biting bigger so that he would, too.
 “Sh’you’re very sheeky,” he tried to say through pinched teeth, earning a snort from his wife.
 She shrugged exaggeratedly. “I shry to be.”
 He bites once more before adding, “I’ve notished.”
 That was a move Kyoko wasn’t expecting. He couldn’t say he blamed her. They’d officially reached the point of no return; the point at which Makoto lost so horrifically in his youth. It surprised him a bit, too. Though his hands were shaking and his determination occasionally wavering, Makoto Naegi the boy had become Makoto Naegi the man. He was now ready to become the champion… assuming he could get past this last little bout with his wife, that is. In all honesty, he doubted he would be able to psyche her out enough to get her to pull away… Although maybe the real victory would be earning himself a kiss. He probably would’ve taken that as a win in his teenage years, too.
 They went on like this for another few minutes, making the occasional quip in an effort to distract the other as they take the next bite. The nips of pocky they took were sweet on their tongues as they pushed forward, staring into each other’s eyes, making faces and conjuring laughs as they inched closer and closer to one another. There were only about five centimetres of pocky left between them. Neither side was prepared to show mercy.
 “You’re not going to shicken out of this, are you?” Kyoko asked, her breath now warm on Makoto’s cheeks. As much as he loved her, it did feel a bit strange, but he endured. He couldn’t give up when he was so close to winning. “I’m impreshed.”
 “Shank you.”
 “Although I shuppose it’s mush less of a shreat, shince you’ve kisshed me in the pasht.”
 He fake-pouted as best he could through his hold. “Don’t minimize my accomplishments.”
 “I’m not,” she laughed, “I’m just wondering how hard you might shry to get one.”
 “A kish?”
 “Yesh, a kish.”
 “Well, I guess you’ll have to hang on and find out, shen. Unlesh you’re ready to lose?”
 “In your shreams.”
 Typical. Kyoko could be so stubborn when she wanted to. Not that he minded, of course. At least not now, when he was so close to getting the proper pocky experience he’d been longing for. A kiss would be much more satisfying than a mere victory over her pulling away. The inviting power of her lips prompted him to bite once more, and within seconds, she bit right after. He bit again.
 The momentum only continued. Bite after bite, dwindling down into nibble after nibble, until he could feel the brush of her lips against his own. Without a second thought he began to turn his head, careful to avoid the collision of their noses. Kyoko’s eyes fluttered shut in turn. Wherever the pocky stick went between them after this didn’t matter. It was lost to them, as far as Makoto was concerned. All that mattered was the shutting of his own eyes as, with nothing else left to do, he leaned further in, pushing his lips so they rested perfectly against hers. The perfect connection.
 No longer a teenager, Makoto knew better than to believe that kissing someone was like fireworks every time. Sometimes it was just more of a pleasant pressure that you missed when it was gone. This was one of those times – but this was no discrediting of it. The sugary stain of pocky on Kyoko’s lips and the feeling of her warmth against his own… it was a connection worth patiently waiting for. He couldn’t help but wonder if she felt the same. Still trembling ever so slightly, his hands reached up to tuck some hair behind her ear and lingered there. It was a cheap tactic to hold her close, he’d admit, but he knew she loved it. In response, she could only drape her arms around his neck, and smile gently into the kiss. Without even an exchange of words, he knew exactly the thought that would be on her mind:
 Victory is sweet.
 The very same thing was on his.
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yuyuntianyu · 3 years
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[2HA analysis blog] To love you is torment but leave you I cannot
I wanted to write this (hopefully not-too-long) blog to give 2HA fandom a different perspective of the events in the past timeline. I noticed that there are many little things that could not be carried over to the English language. These little things can give more explanations to our characters’ actions so I hope sharing this would help the novel make more sense. This blog focuses on Taxian-jun and Chu Fei.
Warning: Spoilers ! ! ! Taxian-jun and Chu Fei are their own trigger warnings ! ! !
Despite the novel having 350 chapters, we really know little about what happened between Taxian-jun and Chu Fei besides the abuse and mistreatment and that little is relayed to us by the Most Unreliable Narrator of the Cultivation World - Mo Ran Mo Weiyu. If we only take Mo Ran for his words then a lot of his and Chu Wanning’s decisions told later on would seem irrational and almost silly. So let’s dive deep in the past so we can understand how the great cultivator Beidou Xian-zun could raise such a dumb husky since the events in the past would explain the more irrational decisions made by both main characters.
Given Mo Ran’s narrator is about as reliable as his character in the first 120 chapters, we have to look at other more subtle clues and some of them are due to cultural and linguistic differences.
1. I used to like you a lot
At his coronation day, Taxian-jun stated that he once greatly looked up to Chu Wanning and that he used to love and respect him dearly. Maybe I am reading into this too much but this is my theory: The flower could erase the memory itself but cannot erase the feelings associated with the memory. He had his memories of the good deeds Chu Wanning did for him erased but still remembered that he used to love and respect him. It doesn’t make sense unless it is indeed that the flower could not erase its host’s feelings. So throughout the novel, Mo Ran’s complicated emotions are complicated possibly because he could not remember how he came to have these feelings. Similarly, Hua Binan could mess with the undead Taxian-jun’s memory to a great extent but could not erase his obsession with Chu Wanning.
2. I gave you a new title
Chu Fei. 楚妃. In the Imperial Chinese harem hierarchy, “Fei” means consort and not concubine (嬪 “Pín"). Consorts were highly respected positions in the palace weidling much political power and were only seconds to the Empress Consort. Another major difference is a consort would be married to the emperor while a concubine would not. So if Taxian-jun had truly wanted to only humiliate Chu Wanning and keep him for the carnal pleasures (I am intentionally ignoring his breeding kink completely), he would keep him as a concubine but he gave Chu Wanning the Consort title and hid him from the world. At this point, Taxian-jun had almost lost Chu Wanning once and had spent a lot of effort to bring him back from the verge of death after hearing Chu Wanning’s apology so his anger might have softened a bit. Also, given that Chu Wanning is a man, having a legitimate offspring ( (I am still intentionally ignoring Mo Ran's breeding kink completely) is not an issue so although this is not clearly stated, I believe Taxian-jun wanted to force a relationship and somewhat proper marriage on Chu Wanning. Another hint of this is in an Extra chapter where Taxian-jun tried to get Chu Wanning a birthday gift. He recalled that in his past timeline, he had wanted Chu Wanning to give him something on his birthday as well and that he had wanted Chu Wanning’s heart.
3. Shizun likes to write letters and poems
On Book 3 Chapter 247, Chu Wanning sat down and wrote a few unsent letters to the people he used to know. He also wrote a few lines of poetry. In the first few lines taken from different literature works, he expressed his sense of helplessness and his wish to remain untainted despite the circumstances. The more important two lines are from a poem written by a real poet named Fàn Chéngdà ( 范成大) who lived in the 12th century Southern-Song dynasty. The two lines read:
“May I be like the stars, may you* be as the moon. Night after night, may we shine together side by side.” **
*In the original work, the character used instead of you is “jun” 君 (as in 踏仙君 Taxian-jun). 君 could mean king, emperor, lord, or gentleman ** This is my rough translation - I haven’t found an English version of this poem
These two lines are commonly used in romantic novels as a way to express one’s unchanging love and loyalty to another person despite the circumstances. He compared himself as the stars and wanted to remain by Taxian-jun whom he viewed as the moon. Chu Wanning wrote this to express his willingness to stay but he would never voice this out loud. In the next timeline, he did the same thing by quietly loving and caring for Mo Ran 1.0 despite the mistreatment and was content with never expressing his feelings vocally. Mo Ran was rather uneducated and thus could not fully comprehend these two lines and misunderstood that Chu Wanning was missing Xue Meng.
4. You are all I have left
In chapter 252, after Chu Wanning returned to The Red Lotus Pavilion, he found Taxian-jun already waiting for him. Taxian-jun told Chu Wanning about a dream he had and said:
“I am afraid I don’t resent you… I want to resent you… Otherwise, I…” “In the end, it’s just you and I”.
This is not the first time he expressed that Chu Wanning was all he had left or they only had each other. I believe that at this point, Taxian-jun might have somewhat believed Chu Wanning and recognized that his memories were missing. His words and behaviors seemed a lot more gentle and he mentioned they did have periods of time where their marriage was easier. I believe it was after this point. He told us about the numerous times he attempted to spoil his consort or expressed his affection through gifts, a trip outside the palace, goods, jewels, and even teaching Chu Wanning how to cook or personally taking care of Chu Wanning when he was sick. At one point, Taxian-jun expressed his wish for a more peaceful marriage with Chu Wanning through his breeding kink by saying that if they had children, perhaps they would be more civil towards each other.
Edit: I really wanted to go about this blog without having to refer to their particular taste in bed
5. Are you still mad?
This is a smaller detail but in the original text and the Vietnamese official translation, the way they talked to each other had a bit more of the “husband-wife” dynamic. Especially Chu Wanning ( l┐(︶▽︶)┌ ), the comment section said he sounded like when your wife is mad that you didn’t take out the trash but still says: “I’m not mad” and Taxian-jun, the husband, would come around and ask “Are you still mad at me?” after every fight.
6. I did not think you would really leave me.
On Chapter 99, Mo Ran recalled the fight between him and Chu Wanning after an assassination attempt. In order to convince Mo Ran to not go to Taxue Palace, Chu Wanning said:
“If you destroy Taxue palace, if you kill Xue Meng, I will die before you”.
Now the line “I will die before you” in my language is less of a suicidal ideation but more of a threat. It's used when a person already knows that they are important to the other person and is using their own death as a threat to make the other person do something. This line is thrown around a lot during heated arguments between people close to each other but they almost never mean it. (Even my mom said it numerous times before T_T . I personally think it’s manipulative). Therefore, it is understandable Taxian-jun did not take this line seriously and replied almost mockingly. After all, they had been married for almost a decade at that point, Taxian-jun probably felt somewhat comfortable that Chu Wanning would not do anything reckless. He could not foresee that Chu Wanning meant what he said and actually followed through with his words. I believe that if Taxian-jun had known that Chu Wanning was serious, Taxian-jun would not have gone to Taxue Palace. 7. Don't leave me, ok?
Then Chu Wanning died and Mo Ran spent two years alone. In those two years, we know he basically went insane because of grief, talked to a corpse everyday, and deep fried his Empress Consort. But strangely enough, Mo Ran 1.0 did not immediately mention this after being reborn although it was the main reason he committed suicide. And at that point, it had been well over a decade since Shi Mei faked his death in the past timeline, yet Mo Ran 1.0 seemed to still hold a lot of resentment towards Chu Wanning. Also, he said he could accept Shi Mei’s death but would never accept Chu Wanning’s. So honestly, it did not make sense to me the first time I read the novel and I believed Mo Ran resented Chu Wanning for a different reason.
The answer was first hinted at in chapter 9 when Mo Ran scolded the sleeping Chu Wanning. He called Chu Wanning a donkey hoof (lol) and this is actually an idiom to scold someone who is disloyal and unfaithful in love. The puzzles came together when the undead Taxian-jun showed up and immediately went after Chu Wanning (and not Shi Mei). He believed Chu Wanning used his death to hurt him and was angry at Chu Wanning for leaving him. This is the resentment Mo Ran 1.0 carried over to the next timeline. He hated Chu Wanning for abandoning him. This is solidified in chapter 262 by the undead Taxian-jun pleading to Chu Wanning:
“Don’t betray me” “Don’t leave me the second time. The first time you left, I could choose death as a relief. This time, even death is not an option any more… I won’t be able to bear it…”
So there it is! I hope this blog brings some new information and feel free to discuss! Let me know if you have any questions for me \( ̄▽ ̄)/
Disclaimer: Plenty of this is my conclusion drawn from the already ambiguous original text and various translations. Unless Meatbun says it, it’s not canon. I am looking at the novel in three different languages so I might have made some mistakes. Pls forgive. Also, I am not making excuses for Mo Ran 0.5’s actions nor am I justifying the abuse in any way. Chu Wanning never said Mo Ran 0.5 was innocent of these crimes nor will I.
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andreafmn · 3 years
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I'm Not Afraid - Chapter 1
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Word Count: 3,325
Characters: Female Reader Argent Character, Original Male Argent Character, Derek Hale, Allison Argent, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, Chris Argent, Jackson Whittemore
Story Description: (Y/N) Argent arrived at Beacon Hills to put to rest her father's sister, Kate Argent. For the first time, her family has decided to settle down and sustain a life in this interesting small town. After 17 years, (Y/N) has the opportunity to establish interpersonal relationships but will she be ready to face the complications that come with relating to her cousin's, Allison, friends; especially, the infamous Derek Hale. She will face the adventure of being associated with the Derek and McCall pack as well as being faced with the discovery of certain aspects of her life she never imagined.
*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Teen Wolf, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Jeff Davis and MTV Network. The only thing I own is Argent Reader insert, her immediate family, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others' storyline.
Chapter: 1/?
Chapter Description: (Y/N) finally arrives at Beacon Hills for the funeral of her aunt and meets a certain wolf to which she feels a special connection.
A/N: Second fandom I'm writing for. I love Teen Wolf so much and the trope of hard Derek but only soft for you makes my heart sing. If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.
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Chapter 1
I hugged the black coat to my body as hard as I could whilst pushing through the sea of press. Our family's last name became quite known after the reports about my aunt, whose burial we were attending. She had allegedly burned down a house with people in it.  She killed them in cold blood. I hugged my grieving uncle and his less grieving wife, then my cousin who had a painful look on her face. I hugged her the longest. She let herself crumble on my arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Even though she was a horrible person she was still our aunt, family.
I took my seat behind Allison when my father, my mother, uncle Chris, and aunt Victoria stood up. Allison didn't lift her head and neither did I. I just tried to comfort her.
"It's been such a long time I don't expect you to call me grandpa." We both looked up to see a white-haired man who resembled the Argent features. "Don't worry about it, just call me Gerard." He hugged both of us, an overpowering aura emanating from his being. When we were engulfed, I looked to the side and saw two boys squatting behind a gravestone. If they were hiding, they were doing a horrible job at it.
"But I prefer Grandpa," Gerard said walking to his seat. I sat back down and drifted off during the whole ceremony. Once it was over, I joined my parents and we drove to our new house. I have a feeling that life here will be very interesting.
That weekend I decided that I had been putting working out off for too long. I changed into comfortable workout clothes and gave food to my dog, Brody. I headed out the door, put my earbuds on, and started to jog. I really didn't know where I was going since it was a new place for me, all I know is that I kept running until I reached the woods. The bad thing about this, I had no idea how to get back home. Even though I knew of this sidetrack and I knew I would be late to get back home, I kept running, needing a release from the mundane feeling of being new in town and having to reunite from our estranged family in a funeral.
I had gained a lot of momentum. God knows how fast I was running at this point that is until I hit something, it almost felt like a wall. When I looked up, I saw a very handsome guy. Spiked hair, green eyes, and slight stubble. If it weren't for the fact that I was already sweaty I would have started to sweat showers of how nervous I was. That is until he opened his mouth.
"Watch where you're going." He growled at me.
"How about you fucking move and not be a prick?" He looked at me with big eyes, probably in surprise, but quickly changed to his menacing look. Who was he trying to fool?
"Well, this is private property, which means that you're trespassing, meaning you should pay more attention to your surroundings."
"I'm sorry but a burnt-down house with almost no walls or roof is barely a property. So, how about you stop being an idiot and I can be on my way." I started to jog once again but he gained my attention once more.
"You're new here, aren't you?" I turned around to face him.
"What's it to you?" He raised his eyebrow.
"I'll take that as a yes." The cockiness oozed out of his pores.
"And why the hell should that matter?"
"Because no one would dare talk to me that way."
"Who would be afraid of a little sour wolf?" He tensed up. "Dude, chill. I'm just kidding. But I doubt anyone would be afraid of Mr...."
"Hale. Derek Hale." He said extending his hand to me. Gee, after screaming at me he wants us to be acquaintances. I thought about not shaking his hand, but I didn't want to be rude. Well, more than I have been already.
"(Y/N). Argent." I shook his hand. Strong grip. Suddenly I felt a rush of déjà vu; I had met him the day before. "Wait, aren't you that guy I accidentally hit with my grocery cart yesterday?"
"Yeah, that really hurt. You hit my ankle. You could've had me limping."
"But you're not, so be grateful I didn't break your ankle." He laughed. "Damn, if I had known how cocky you really were, I would've hit you harder."
"So, you admit that you hit me?"
"Oh yeah, of course, I hit you. Accidentally that is."
"Yeah, yeah."
I looked around trying to find where the hell I had come from but there wasn't even the slightest trail as to where I was to go.
"So, miss (Y/N). Do you even know your way home?"
"No, but I'm sure I can find my way back." Then, he took keys out of his pocket and pointed to his car.
"Come on, I'll drive you around and you just tell me when something seems familiar."
"And why should I go with the guy that almost ripped out my throat for bumping into him? For all I know you could be driving me to my death." I crossed my arms over my chest, and he let out a loud sigh.
"Look, I'm sorry for snapping. But I'm trying to be nice. That doesn't happen very often."
"Alright, Mr. Hale. I'll let you take me home just because you are being nice now, after being a prick, and I'm exhausted."
"See, no one can resist me." I rolled my eyes at his cockiness. Seriously does he buy cans of it on eBay?
"Don't get cocky with me. I can punch the living daylights out of you." He chuckled and started to drive.
We drove for about 20 minutes until I finally recognized the curb that led to my house. Upon arriving at my driveway, I got out of the car and walked to the driver’s side.
"Give me your hand” For some reason, I felt compelled to do so. He took a pen and wrote down a number. "Call me if you ever need a tour of the town."
Three weeks later, I walked inside the school to meet up with Allison. I moved here with my family since dad had some business taking float. Being the new kid in town is never fun. I would know. I switch schools almost every year. The pro and con about this would be not being attached to anyone. Usually, I'm the one who doesn't talk to anyone and is called a freak. A derogatory term given to people who are way too different from others, but a title I wore proudly.
"Oh my gosh, (Y/N)! How have you been?" Allison wrapped her arms around me and hugged me tightly. It was as if she hadn't seen me just three weeks ago.
"Hi, Allison. I've been good, getting acclimated to the new town. You?" You would think that because we were cousins, I would be more affectionate towards her but honestly, I wouldn't see her again for like three more years, so what's the point?
"I'm good. A little rocky at the start of coming here but good." Then, a boy with a buzz cut and one with great brown hair walked by and smiled at Alli. "Ooh, you should come meet my friends. Stiles, Scott!! Come here." The boys turned around with goofy grins on their faces.
"Hey, Allison. Who's this?" Buzzcut kid said.
"This is my cousin, (Y/N). She just moved here from Virginia."
"Pleasure to meet you. I'm Scott." The one with the great hair said.
"Nice to meet you, I'm Stiles." I shook their hands and smiled.
"Nice to meet you, too, buzzcut." Allison and Scott laughed but Stiles only ran his hand through his hair, suddenly becoming hyperaware of his lack of locks.
"Allison. Who might this sexy lady be?" I rolled my eyes. The last thing I need is a narcissist with a god-complex trying to get close.
"Oh, Jackson, this is my cousin, (Y/N)."
"Hi." He extended his hand and looked me up and down.
"Hi." I smiled sarcastically, and when I didn't extend my hand, he dropped his.
Finally, after standing awkwardly behind Allison whilst her friends talked, the bell rang. Talk about saved by the bell.
"Hey, (Y/N), what's your first class?" I checked my schedule.
"Um, chemistry."
"Oh, good, then you're coming with us to Mr. Harris' class," Scott said pointing towards him and Stiles. I smiled and walked behind them.
Once we got to the classroom everyone turned to me, the ever-present sign of being new in the class evident in the stare of my classmates.
"Um, hi, my name is (Y/N) Argent and I'm new." The teacher, whom I guess is Mr. Harris, turned around to face me.
"Oh, yes, Miss Argent. Welcome. You will be sitting next to Isaac Lahey. Lahey, raise your hand." Once Isaac raised his hand, I noticed he was sat near Stiles and Scott. Two people I was trying to avoid. As I walked past, I accidentally pushed Stiles' book on his lap, startling him, resulting in an awkward descent from his lab stool onto the floor.
"Hi, again. I guess we are gonna see a lot of each other for the rest of the school year." I nodded and he scratched the back of his neck. "So, um, what school did you come from?"
"Lancaster High," I responded whilst writing down what Mr. Harris was writing on the board. Stiles kept trying to talk to me, but I would only give him short, cold answers or just ignore him. That is until Mr. Harris called our attention, that's when he finally got the memo to shut up.
"I'm sorry to bother you, but I just wanted to introduce myself since we're gonna be seated next to each other all year. I'm Isaac."
"I figured." I tried giving him my best smile. The vibe he was giving off seemed like he needed it. "I'm (Y/N)."
"Well, nice to meet you, (Y/N). Now I'll leave you to the class because if I don't I know I'll be failing even more than I am."
"Oh, well, maybe I can tutor you some time. I'm actually really good at science. My mom was a chemist professor once upon a time so I'm bound to understand all this."
"Really?!" His puppy eyes seemed to light up and I nodded. "That would actually be amazing."
"Sure thing. Now let's get back to class."
After Chemistry finished, I put everything in my bag as quickly as possible and sped to my next class, Math. Thankfully, none of Allison's friends shared this class with me but I did share it with Isaac.  I didn't consider him much a friend but more an acquaintance in desperate need of help.
As the day progressed, I noticed the rest of my classes were shared with one or more of Allison's friends. They all tried to strike up a conversation but were quickly discouraged when met with my one-worded or vague answers. Especially, Stiles. He tried especially hard to get answers out of me, only being met with the occasional laugh or stare at his comical occurrences. He seemed like the kind of person you could just open up to. The same could be said about Scott. His shy nature was alluring, and he portrayed himself as a very trustworthy and loyal being.
But I would not allow myself to let them in. My whole being yearned for a real friendship, someone to share nothing and everything; never again.
At lunch, I sat outside and ate my food quietly, a book in front of my face to shield my eyes from the sun the prevalent stares of my peers. After some minutes of appreciated loneliness, the empty table was filled with conversating teenage bodies. I smiled politely but, in my mind, I was cursing them out.
"So, (Y/N), how's your day been?" Allison asked whilst munching on an apple. I swallowed what was left of my bite and answered.
"Fine, thank you." This time no one pressed on after my short answers, finally getting the hint of my disinterest. In the corner of my eye, I saw Isaac sitting under a tree munching on half a sandwich. I excused myself and went to join him, heavily enjoying his tranquil aura.
"Oh, hi, (Y/N)." He smiled sheepishly.
"Hey, Isaac. Is that all you're eating?"
"Yeah. I'm not very hungry." He looked down as if he were ashamed.
"Nonsense! Here," I gave him the other half of my burger and another bag of chips I had in my bag. "You can't tell me you're not hungry. You're a boy in peak development."
"Thanks." He smiled as he continued munching on his food. I put on some music and we continued eating in silence. No conversation required.
The day went on smoother than it started. Classes flew by fairly quickly and the incessant chit-chat seemed to diminish. During last period I was like every other student, anxiously waiting for the bell to signal the end of the school day. When my pleads were answered, I packed the necessary book into my bag and left the rest in my locker, expertly avoiding any more social encounters. Quickly, I made my way to the waiting open car door of my father's car, ignoring Allison's beckoning me t.wards the small group of friends.
"How was your first day, darling?" My father spoke up breaking my attention from the scenery.
"Like any other first day I've had." I smiled. "The towns might change but school is always the same."
Finally at home, we were greeted with the sight of my mother cooking; people were coming over.
"(Y/N), honey, Chris, Victoria, and Allison are coming over tonight. So, go do a quick workout and come back to get ready." I nodded and ran to my room to change into workout clothes.
My routine would normally consist of waking up, working out, go to school for a dreading eight hours, come back home, workout again, do my homework, eat, and go to sleep. I lead a very monotonous life and it had been this way since I could remember. One of my earliest memories was of my father teaching me archery alongside Allison, a great distraction to our always disrupted home life. As I got older, my father started training me in boxing and knife maneuvering. How would these skills help me in life were still a mystery but I felt safe knowing them.
I got changed and decided to take Brody out with me on a quick jog through the woods. "Hey, boy, ready to go?"
He jumped on me which I took as a yes and started for the woods. We ran down the same trail I had been going on for the past three weeks. Mostly, I went down this track in hopes that Derek would make an appearance, and today was not the exception. As the ruins of his house came to view so did his tall figure.
"Trespassing again?"
"It doesn't count if I know the owner." During our greeting, Brody's leash slipped out of my hand and he ran to jump on Derek, leaving slobbering licks on his cheek. "I'm so sorry."
"Don't worry about it." He chuckled and helped me bring him down.
"I guess he likes you, even though he doesn't like anyone but me. Guess you're special."
"Maybe." He grinned.
Out of nowhere, I hit him in the shoulder. "What was that for?!"
"For trying to run me over with your shopping cart two days ago. It was uncalled for."
"No, it was revenge. You hit ME first. In the ankle."
"You're still on with that. Come on, sour wolf. That happened three weeks ago, and it was an accident."
"Whatever. Come on, I'll give you a ride home. It's getting kind of dark." This had also become part of my routine. After "bumping" into Derek he would offer to drop me off at my house, claiming it was for security.
"Okay, we're here. By the way, the offer to show you around town is still up. Just call me whenever." He said as he stopped the car in front of my house.
"Alright, will do, and thanks for the ride, Derek. I'd invite you in, but my family is coming over."
"No worries, maybe another time."
"It's a date. Anyways, thanks again. See you when I see you."
"Okay, goodnight."
"Night." He waited until I entered the house and drove away.
"Munchkin, is that you?" My father screamed from the kitchen.
"Yeah!" I screamed back.
"Okay, well, go take a shower and get ready your uncle will get here soon."
I hurried up the stairs and hopped in the shower letting the hot water stream down my body calming any aching muscle that was palpitating. In my room, I searched through my closet for an acceptable family dinner outfit, deciding a grey sweater and black jeans would be enough. I braided my hair out of my face and went downstairs to help my mother set the table.
After we put the last plate the doorbell rang.
"I'll get it!" I ran to the door and was greeted by my uncle. "Uncle Chris!" I jumped and he hugged me. There was no doubt that he was my favorite family member, his presence was always welcoming. His wife on the other hand was as cold as the winters we spent in New York. She was nice but absolutely scary. "Hi, Aunt Victoria."
"Hello, (Y/N)." I hugged her and said hi to Allison.
"Come in, guys." They walked in and I closed the door behind them.
"So, (Y/N), how have you been?" Uncle Chris asked while stuffing his mouth with mom's famous lasagna.
"I've been good. I mean, moving all the time takes a toll on you at first, but I got used to it. It's easy now to pack it all up once the school year ends."
"Oh, honey, that must be so hard on you," Victoria said. I could not read her tone, her words spoke in sympathetic notes with an underlying melody of sarcasm.  Not knowing what to answer, I bit my lip and nodded.
The whole evening was spent on us catching up and eating, laughing, playing games, but the good times came to an end when the clock hit 9:00 pm. It was stupid to set a curfew, but my mom usually had everyone in bed at this time, 10:30 as of late.
"You better come around the house more often." Uncle Chris demanded and hugged me.
"Yes, sir." I raised my hand to my eyebrow and saluted, as did he.
"Let's go, Chris. And thank you for the lovely dinner, Rebecca," Victoria said linking arms with my uncle and smiling at mom.
"No problem. Come by any time." They talked for a bit more and after they left, I went upstairs to change for bed.
"Momma, I'm gonna go to sleep."
"Okay, honey. Goodnight." I went upstairs, brushed my teeth, and put my hair in a ponytail.
Before bed, I made sure everything I would need for the next day was packed into my bag and made sure my alarm was set. I pulled all the throw pillows from my bed and set them aside, then making my way to the window to draw the curtains. Something caught my attention in the backyard, though. My eyes squinted trying to make out the figure in front of me. Blinking the confusion away, I made a double-take and looked back at an empty yard. I laughed to myself as I crept into bed. Why would Derek be in my backyard?
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archived-kin · 3 years
Text
caught in a twin courtship
note from kin: i’m going to be honest i only really wrote this because the title is fun to say, so it isn’t as cohesive as i normally would have wanted to make it
(this is an au where the twins aren’t separated by the unknown god! instead, just their world-hopping powers were stolen, and that’s why they’re journeying to find said god - to get their powers back so that they can go home. i’ve also excluded paimon since i kind of forgot about her while writing this haha)
(this doesn’t follow canon at all since reader and the twins just kind of start wandering about after the dvalin incident rather than heading straight for liyue oops)
fandom: genshin impact
character(s): gn!reader, lumine, aether, diluc, venti, jean
pairing(s): aether/reader/lumine
warning(s): i don’t think so??
genre: fluff with a little bit sprinkling of angst
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you first meet the twins in the aftermath of the stormterror battle. it isn’t a glamorous introduction by any means - it’s pretty unflattering, actually - but it definitely makes a powerful first impression.
the group - aether, lumine, venti, diluc, and jean - are on their way back to mondstadt city, making small talk here and there, but mostly just walking in silence.
then they hear a yell in the distance.
jean and lumine both drop into a battle stances, venti leaps to hide behind aether with a very unmanly squeak of fear… but diluc, who arguably should have been the most alerted by this occurrence, just gives a resigned sigh and pauses.
a split second later, a figure comes speeding up to the group. you barrel up to diluc and immediately punch him square in the stomach, yelling “why didn’t you tell me you were going after stormterror?!”
aether and venti both give matching gasps of horror at the blatant disrespect, but diluc only shakes his head and catches your fist as it goes for another blow, this one aimed at his chest, and chastises, “calm down, i left a note.”
“i left a note,” you mimic, an absolutely awful impression that has you sounding more like a mosquito than the darknight hero, “fat lot of use that is when you aren’t even telling me where you’re going!”
diluc evades another jab at his arm and firmly sets his hands on both your shoulders, effectively anchoring you to the ground. you contemplate swinging your feet at his knees and knocking him over, or maybe shocking him with your electro vision, but ultimately decide that you might as well try to preserve what little dignity you have left in front of those three people you’ve never met before
so you stop with a defeated sigh and turn to face said three people to introduce yourself
it turns out that you’re diluc’s cousin and he’s been having to baby-sit you for the last few years after your own parents left on a ‘business trip’ to snezhnaya that they’re still not back from
you’re pretty sure they’re dead, killed by the fatui, and you say as much during your introduction without even the slightest sign of distress, which is a little unsettling
lumine’s first thought is that you’re quite the interesting character, what with the casual way you treat diluc, and how you don’t seem to question whatever situation lead you to meet in the first place
aether’s first thought is holy shit, they’re cute
one twin greets you in return with a lot more enthusiasm than the other, and venti the bard wastes no time in asking whether you have access to good master diluc’s wine storage
(you’d be shocked by the audacity if you weren’t just as bad as him when it came to shamelessness)
strangely enough, the fact that aether likes you so much actually makes lumine more wary of you than she was initially
aether trusts too easily, and from experience, that usually leads to disaster - and your flippancy regarding your parents’ apparent probable deaths rather inclines her to think that you might be a very dangerous person indeed
the three of you don’t see each other for a couple of days after that - you and diluc leave for dawn winery together, while the twins depart with venti to wrap their whole situation up, and jean returns to her duties in mondstadt city
all this time, apparently unbeknownst to even himself, aether keeps finding ways to bring you up in the middle of conversation
you’d only spoken to him for a few minutes and somehow that as enough to get him absolutely fascinated
lumine would be lying if she said she wasn’t still curious about you as well, but it gets annoying after aether somehow manages to mention how ‘mysterious’ your black cloak is in the middle of a conversation about why mitachurls are able to randomly set their axes on fire
luckily for these two, they happen to run into you the very next day!
you’re in the middle of taking out a ruin guard stomping around the thousand winds temple -  a ruin guard that the twins had been meaning to take down themselves, which is why they’re here in the first place
at first they move to help you, only to stop short and watch in awe as you plunge down at the ruin guard from atop one of the enormous pillars, your polearm held steady in your grasp as your entire body seems to spark and glow with a deep purple electro energy
the sharp blade of your polearm goes clean through the top of the ruin guard’s head and shatters its core, and it sinks to the ground with a massive thud that echoes around the temple ruins, massive wooden limbs twitching and jerking as the last of your vision’s energy disperses from it
aether and lumine are basically star-struck
from there you spot them and call them over for a conversation, show them how to take apart a ruin guard’s circuits to get at the good parts, and somehow end up agreeing to journey with them across teyvat in their search for an unknown god who stole their abilities to hop from world to world as well as their apparent true power that allows them to wield all seven elements at once
the details are a little lost on you, but what you’re hearing is that you get to go on a cool adventure with a cool gal and a cool lad, so you’re pretty much all for it
diluc isn’t too happy about you up and leaving without so much as two week’s notice (partially because he has literally no friends apart from you and he’d get lonely without his little cousin bothering him all the time) but you simply tell him to deal with it and go anyway
(you do give him a big hug and promise to visit, you’re not heartless)
from then on you, aether and lumine become a dynamic trio like no other
it’s actually pretty damn spooky how well the three of you end of working together
aether and lumine had long since formed a style of fighting that meant they made up for each other’s weak spots and could attack in perfect sync, but then you come along and somehow manage to make their already pretty flawless formation even better
is it witchcraft? they honestly don’t know
considering you fit so well into their battle strategies, it follows that you’d also slot perfectly into their every day life
lumine is cautious at first, wondering if your presence would disrupt her and her brother’s long since pre-established routines, but you fit in so naturally that it’s as if you were there all long
maybe it it’s this that makes both twins slowly start falling for you - the comfort of being beside you and the familiarity that you bring are things that they struggled to find, being trapped in a world far from their own with no way to get out, and they unknowingly latch onto you like drowning men clutching lifebuoys
aether is the most obvious about his feelings - he starts waking up earlier just because he knows you do, sitting beside you as you stoke a campfire and keep watch for any approaching monsters, making quiet conversation as lumine continues sleeping. he tells you stories about his adventures in other worlds, including an encounter with a rather bigoted individual who is the reason that he keeps his hair so long while lumine’s has been cut short
he even starts taking his hair out of its braid before he goes to sleep so that he can ask you to braid it for him when he wakes up
lumine is a lot more subtle
she finds excuses to stand closer to you when, deliberately brushing her fingers against yours when handing you something. she listens far more attentively to you when you speak than anyone else, and she smiles far more in your presence, hanging onto your every word and gazing at you so intensely that it’s almost unsettling
of course, the twins notice each other’s feelings pretty easily
at first neither acknowledges it - it’d be far too messy for both to accept that they’d both fallen in love with the same person, let alone actually admit this to each other
but it gets to the point where it just isn’t ignorable anymore, and finally the twins decide to talk
it’s about as civil and sensible as they could hope for with the subject at hand, and they eventually decide to talk to you about it
and so, we come to an ultimatum. what will your choice be?
if you reject both, it’ll be hard to continue adventuring with twins who can’t look in your direction. neither resent you, of course, but the atmosphere has become so stifling that they can’t even make eye contact
it’s as if an enormous gap has opened up between the three of you. the twins are avoiding each other as well, unsure of how to handle the fact that they’re both in love with the same person and have now both been rejected by that same person. if anything, they should be becoming closer out of solidarity, but it seems that they can’t stand to be in each other’s presence as much as they can’t stand to be in yours.
the three of you still work together as seamlessly in battle as you did before, but once the final monster has been cut down and your weapons are sheathed, that connection seems to disappear again.
it’s aether who finally breaks the stalemate. he starts trying to start conversations as the three of you sit awkwardly apart from each other around a fire, and while the first few attempts end in stony silence and an awkward cough on his part, eventually you begin replying with some semblance of the humour you used to
from there things only improve - the three of you come to a silent mutual agreement to leave this behind you, and soon you’re all laughing and joking as you used to
lumine and aether both know that they cannot force you to love either of them, and they respect your choice. if anything, they’re the ones in the wrong for springing something like this on you so suddenly, and they start to feel a little guilty that they were essentially pressuring you into making a choice that you were never obligated to make
so they return to treating you as a dear friend, just as before. things are different now, of course, but they can only be grateful that you continue to travel with them and stay by their side; this situation doesn’t make them love you any less, even if you don’t love them in the same way.
if you choose lumine, aether will be understanding. the twins have been each other’s only support for longer than they can remember, and as the older brother, he’s well used to giving things up for his sister.
he’ll still be friendly and amicable, but he won’t seek you out as much as he did before. he starts braiding his hair by himself again, and stays in bed as late as he can every morning so that he doesn’t have to be face to face with you. just because he’s accepted this doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt.
sometimes, when the sky grows dark and you and lumine have long since fallen asleep beside each other, he wonders to himself - why is it that he has to give everything to his sister? he’s given away so much, so why couldn’t the universe let him have this one thing?
but he knows, deep down, that this is nothing to do with the universe - you simply fell in love with someone that wasn’t him, his sister at that, and he’s struggling to come to terms with it.
he wants to hate you, hate lumine, hate the relationship that the two of you have formed, but he just can’t. he loves the both of you in different ways that are just as important as each other, and he can’t stand to lose either of you. he’d rather throw himself off of starsnatch cliff.
so he’ll smile and bear it, even if it’s a battle to keep himself from breaking down every time he sees the two of you lace your hands together, off in your own little word, so near and yet so far from him.
if you choose aether, lumine will become cold. at first, that is. she’s never been as empathetic as her brother, always holding grudges and developing dislike much more easily. it had taken a lot for her to open up to you in the first place, and now that you’ve rejected her, it’s going to take a while for her to return to the same camaderie with you that she had before.
lumine does not begrudge aether for being the one you chose. if anything, she’s glad - aether is always putting her first and himself second, and she’s happy that he has someone like you, who lights his eyes up in a way that she’s never seen before.
but our hearts often betray our mind, after all, and lumine can’t help but scowl and turn away every time she sees her brother wrap his arms around your waist or press a kiss to your cheek. despite her best efforts, all she can think is why? why did you have to choose him?
she can’t bring herself to hate you, though. as much as it feels like her heart is threatening to split down the middle when she sees you smile and is reminded of something that she cannot have, there is an equal joy in the fact that her brother can be with the person that he loves so dearly. if anything, the two of you deserve to be happy together.
lumine would never do anything that could take that away, and so she forces herself to accept it. it takes several days of tentative conversation and barely held back tears, but eventually the two of you seem to return to the way you were before - all friendly jabs and light-hearted banter and little jokes exchanged over crossed blades.
but lumine knows that your friendship can never be quite the same as it was before. she’ll forever be holding you at arm’s length, terrified to let you get too close lest you see how much your presence affects her. she can’t let you know how much she loves you because she will never be the one who links hands with you as you walk down a long, winding path, or the one who holds you close under a darkening sky filled with stars - because that person is aether, and she would sooner die before she takes her brother’s happiness away.
if you refuse to choose, the twins will be at a loss at what to do. they hadn’t considered this scenario - that you had somehow come to love both of them.
the confusion becomes joy soon enough, though. they realise what this means - they both love you, and you love both of them! isn’t this perfect?
neither are particularly thrilled at the concept of ‘sharing’ you with the other, so to speak, but in the end they both equally want each other to be happy as they want you to be, so the logical conclusion is that they both become your partners.
they’re not too sure how this should work, nor what sort of label to put on it, but they come to you tentatively with the idea anyway
to their joyous surprise, you agree!
and from then marks the point of no return…
aether is definitely the clingier of the two. once he realises that he’s allowed to show affection and be close to you for no particular reason, he won’t stop - it’s as if he absolutely has to be holding your hand or be standing or sitting  as close to you as physically possible. he’s always buying you souvenirs at every place you stop by, scaling trees to pick apples for you when you mention a craving for fruit, presenting you little treasures that he’s found with all the pride of a golden retriever.
lumine is a more subdued kind of partner, preferring to demonstrate her feelings with little things like making your favourite food for dinner or bringing you sprigs of flowers that she’s secretly been collecting in order to present you with them. of course, that doesn’t mean she isn’t physically affectionate at all - she presses perhaps even closer to you than aether when you sleep beside her, and somehow her hand finds yours at every opportunity she has.
the twins clash every now and then, as siblings often do, except that you’re usually caught in the middle. their arguments are little more than playful squabbles, though - things like play-fighting over who gets to hug you first after a well-fought battle, or who gets to hold your hand on the way to the next village (you have to step in and remind them that you do, in fact, have two hands)
in conclusion: why choose one when you can have both and prevent the unchosen from having endless amounts of angst?
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elleclairez · 3 years
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The Starless one and his star - Darkling x reader
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Alina didn’t know what to do exactly. She sat silently in an armchair of her chambers in the Little Palace, her gaze focused on the figure of her worst enemy who decided that it would be a marvellous idea to torment her a little by playing tricks with her mind. 
The Starkov girl knew that the Darkling wasn’t really there, but it certainly did not ease her worries in any way at all. The man on the other hand, silently stood, watching young Grisha train with Botkin through the window. No one could guess what was going on inside his head. Saints even he didn’t know why he chose to pay a visit to his enemy. 
The silence in the room was heavy, almost unbearable for the young woman. She wanted to cry, shout and hit the man all at once and yet her body couldn’t move even a little. She was petrified and she couldn’t understand why. Was is fear? Hatred? Anger? Or was it something else stopping her from crying out for help or banishing the man from her mind herself?
The silence didn’t stop until the beautiful, silky voice of the Darkling resonated through the walls of the room.
“Have you ever heard of a young woman by the name of Seren Heijman?” Confusion flashed through Alina’s eyes. Seeing that the Shadow Summoner sighed and added “You might know her as the Star Saint. A bloody ridiculous name if you ask me.” The last sentence was muttered and Alina could barely hear it to properly decipher all the words. But as the words left the man’s mouth, the young Grisha suddenly had old memories of childhood stories crossing her mind. Alina could still remember the tales that Ana Kuya would tell them back at Keramzin. There was one story that Alina always adored, it was about a young, beautiful and selfless woman who chose death to save her comrades and the now long dead king. 
“All I remember is that she died sacrificing herself to save the king and her friends. Let me guess she was Grisha too?” Asked Alina with her brows furrowed. Why would the Darkling talk about Saints with her? 
“I always told you that those tales were propaganda for peasants. Seren was indeed Grisha, a powerful Inferni actually. And no, she did not sacrifice herself as everyone chose to believe. She was killed. Stabbed and left to die alone. Without anyone to save her or to at least be by her side when she would let go of her last breath.” Spat the Darkling with anger. Hatred could be deciphered from his eyes quite easily. It wasn’t hard to understand that this story was quite a sensitive topic for him, but Alina didn’t care. She was too curious as to why the man who was as heartless as a volcra would care so much about a mere woman and her unfortunate fate.
“You knew her didn’t you?” Carefully asked Alina too afraid of his reaction. The last thing she wanted was to anger her enemy. The Darkling chuckled.
“I did not know the martyr that people made of her against her will. I knew a young Kerch Inferni who was too good for this world.” And with those words, the Darkling pulled out a chain out of his pocket, and attached to it were two rings.
Two wedding bands. 
While at court Alina was able to see many jewels but all of them paled in comparison to the beauty of those. It was no doubt Materialki work.
The first was a man’s ring, quite simple, black with silver engravings on it, but it was the second one that caught her eye. A silver ring with black engravings that were too small to be read but big enough to be visible. On top of it, three diamonds were placed. Two were small, white ones looking like stars and the third one in the middle seemed to represent a full black moon.
At the realization, the Sun Summoner gasped.
“You...” Words couldn’t form themselves. Never in a million years could she have guessed that the most heartless man could actually be married. But most importantly it seemed that the marriages was based on love, a feeling that Alina thought the Darkling could not feel.
“Yes, Alina. We were married and loved each other dearly. She was the only one for who I was ready to give the world to on my knees but even more, she was the only one for whom I was ready to give it up. The moment she would have said it, I would have given up everything. The Second army, Ravka, everything.” The Darkling paused to take a breath, eyes full of sadness and grief. “What people say is true. She was everything any person would want to be. Intelligent, beautiful, sarcastic, a real firecracker if you ask me.” At that the Darkling laughed a little, memories seemed to flash in his eyes. “Loving, brave and selfless and yet selfish enough to dream of a peaceful life with me, away from all the fighting. She was the only one that I needed, and yet she was still taken from me.” At those words the man’s fists clenched, knuckles white from tension, his eyes full of hatred and yet still held the same sadness as before. Alina could even feel herself pitying the man.
“What happened?” Almost shakily whispered the raven haired woman. She knew asking that would be dangerous, but she wanted to know what happened.
“The ancestor of our so lovely King Alexander desired her with all his body and could not bear the idea that she chose to marry me and decline his advances. So he did what many Lantsov men did as it seems, he tried to take her by force. But my Seren was powerful, something that the bastard forgot, she burned him but was kind enough to simply leave burns on his hands. She hoped that he wouldn’t approach her from then on but that man, if you can call him a man, was vengeful, so he sent her to Fjerda on a mission, as he said. I was away the day she was sent away, and I only found out a few days later. The moment I received the news I rushed to Fjerda as fast as I could but when I arrived at her camp, it was too late. All I found was dead Ravkan soldiers both otkasatsya and Grisha and when I found her tent I already knew something was wrong, I felt somehow felt it. And there she was in her tent, laying on the ground, eyes blank, a single dried tear on her cheek, the spark that I used to adore in her beautiful orbs, gone. She laid there, on the floor, in a pool of her own blood and all I could do was to stand there, paralysed with this raging urge to destroy the monster who did that to her.” A deathly silence succumbed the room, Alina did not know what to say, and she became even more speechless when she saw a tear run down the Darkling’s cheek. He didn’t look so terrifying anymore but more like the young man that Baghra so desperately tried to save. “From that day I promised myself that I would avenge her. That I would take over Ravka and destroy every person who would think of hurting my and her people, of hurting Grisha people.”
“Make me your villain, Alina Starkov. But even you should see right now that I am not the villain but only the victim. The one who lost too much by the hands of others.” Alina didn’t know what to say, how could she respond after such story? Was she even supposed to respond? Was he even saying the truth? It wouldn’t be a surprising for her that the Darkling was simply playing tricks on her, again.
As if reading her mind, the Shadow Summoner said. “If you don’t believe me, there is proof in a secret drawer of my desk, well your desk now should I say, in the war room, go see for yourself.” At that the Darkling’s figure started to disappear, but Alina had one more question.
“Wait!” The Darkling looked at her expectantly. “I know not all tales are true, but some said that... she was...” She couldn’t bring herself to say it. Because if those stories were indeed true then the Darkling would be even less of a monster.
A dark chuckle left his mouth, he knew what she was trying to say. “We were going to name them Elizaveta if it were a girl or Piotr if a boy.” And with those words the man disappeared.
Alina didn’t even notice how tears escaped her eyes but a few minutes later she found herself in the war room, opening the same drawer that the Darkling talked about. 
It was a portrait. An old, small and dusty but still very well-kept one.
On it was painted a young couple, dressed in wedding attires, those same rings on their fingers. Smiles and eyes full of love, so bright that even the painting couldn’t dull the sparkle that they had while looking at each other.
At the bottom of the portrait Alina was able to decipher the writing.
            “Seren and Aleksander Morozova. The Starless One and the Star”
Hope you liked this angsty Aleksander x reader one-shot. Had this idea since I saw the trailer (which is INCREDIBLE by the way) and gotta be honest I literally wrote all of this during my philosophy class because it was better than falling asleep...
If you have a request don’t hesitate to send me a message. You can find all the fandoms I write for in my bio, but I warn you that it may take a little while for me to write it because I’ve been a lot of writer’s block lately....
Ps: Hello! This is me again from the future or present (depends on how you see it). Just wanted to say that I edited the story a little. Again English is not my native language, so there may be some mistakes that I’ve missed, do not hesitate to comment if you see one. Again I hope you enjoyed this story and if you did go check my other ones 😉
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chaoticdean · 3 years
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Supernatural and the topic of found family — family don’t end in blood… or does it?
I know I’ve talked a great deal about the way the complete erasure of both Cas and Eileen from the two final episodes of SPN made my blood boil, but after careful consideration and a lot of talking with several very clever people (you know who you are), I think what hurt me the most on top of it all is the way Supernatural decided to essentially throw away an entire section of what made the show what it was for the best part of the last decade and a half: the topic of found family, and how they’ve carefully crafted so many important side characters and relationships only to throw them all away for the sake of having one last episode essentially disconnected from the rest of the story. 
[Because I’ve talked about in great length over the course of the past week and a half, and although there are undoubtedly more issues with Supernatural’s series finale than just this (ie: the Destiel treatment and the queer erasure, along with the complete erasure of Eileen, the only disabled character this show has ever known), I’m going to concentrate solely on the treatment of found family, and why its erasure from the finale storyline is deeply upsetting on top of being utterly inexplicable. If you want to read an incredible article about this, I’d redirect you to @chill-legilimens article’s, The Trauma of Silence]
When Supernatural started airing in 2005, the show essentially focused on Sam and Dean and their relationship, with a dash of John Winchester and mending the broken pieces between a father and his sons into the mix. The first side character that gets introduced to the audience as some sort of surrogate father to both Winchesters is Bobby (1x22, Devil’s Trap), and he quickly became a fan favorite to the fandom. Interestingly enough, Bobby is also the one who comes up with the “Family don’t end with blood” line (if I’m not mistaken, the first time it’s said on the show is during 3x16, No Rest for the Wicked). Once this line gets said, it quickly became more than just a slogan within the fandom, and it’s often referenced as a motto for the show as well (Dean even uses it during his talk with Crowley in season 10 to explain what family means).
Over the years, so many characters got introduced and became fan favorites (off the top of my head, I can come up with half a dozen already) and have grown within the show, to the point where they’re introduced to the audience as some sort of found family to both Dean and Sam. The boys get invited to Jody Mills’ and her wayward daughter’s house for dinner, spend what can only be qualified as a slumber party watching Game of Thrones with Charlie Bradbury in the bunker, keep running around and bickering with Crowley, spends time in the bunker with Eileen (the margaritas and Sam and Eileen being hungover the morning after in the bunker’s kitchen lives rent-free in my head). Even the Ghostfacers keep popping in almost every season for a decade. The audience gets to learn who these characters are and connect with them on several levels, most of them also becoming fan favorites over time.
But if I had to pick only one side character to make a point, Castiel is undoubtedly the one that comes to mind first.
When Misha Collins came along during season 4, he was only supposed to be in for a couple of episodes and be done with it. But because of his masterful performance (and because the character of Anna, who gets introduced around the same time as Castiel, doesn’t seem to work as well as the writers thought it would), Misha stayed along for the whole ride, and ended his run on Supernatural 12 years and 144 episodes later, with a character that is so beloved by the fandom that it elevated him to the rank of third lead. Castiel is not only an angel of the Lord, he’s also Sam and Dean’s best friend who would do anything to protect them (and, well, has done so, multiple times). He’s grown within the show to the point where the audience directly refers to him as being one of the family, even though he’s not blood, because “Family don’t end with blood” after all.
Another example that is particularly telling over the course of the last couple of seasons is the treatment of Jack’s character, who’s quickly adopted by the boys and referred to as “their kid”, the three of them acting like surrogate dads even though in the end, Jack is Lucifer’s son. Once again, the show makes a point of showing the audience that although Jack is not related to Sam and Dean in any way (I’m guessing since Lucifer is basically Castiel’s brother, he is somewhat related to Cas, but since I don’t have a degree in angel DNA, I can’t 100% be sure), he’s still family, he still matters.
The story basically tells the audience that even though you might not have a blood-related family, that doesn’t prevent you to find people along your life’s journey that becomes intrinsically connected to your story, both on a deeply emotional and practical level. It tells you that you’re not required to have a blood family to be someone’s kid, or sister, or brother. It tells you that blood doesn’t define who you choose to share your life with, and most importantly, it tells you that you’re allowed to choose.
So why on Earth did anyone think that ending Supernatural’s 15-year run with an episode that essentially showcases Sam and Dean and sidelines the wide majority of the family they found along the way (with the exception of OG Bobby showing up in Heaven) was a good idea?
Don’t get me wrong, I love Bobby, I really do… But what was the excuse for not having either Misha back (the literal third lead of the show, who confessed to being in love with Dean, the second lead of the show, two episodes prior), or Alex (Jack being one of the main focus of the past two seasons at least)? I get that Covid made all of this difficult, but you can’t tell me you’ve been able to bring back Mark Pellegrino’s Lucifer for a two minutes and a half cameo in 15x19, but not Misha fucking Collins to end his character’s arc (and Dean’s, who’s arc is deeply wired with Castiel’s) after 12 years. 
I’m gonna say it again, because I feel like it’s been used as an excuse for everything ever since the finale aired: Covid cannot be the sole excuse for everything. It cannot account for the absence of literally EVERYONE around the Winchesters.
At that point, I should probably add that although I was incredible baffled by the one-off mention of Cas (well, two, if you count Sam saying he misses him and Dean deflecting during the Pie Fest at the beginning of the episode), what probably set me off the most is the part of Dean’s death speech where he says “when it all came down to it, it was always you and me, it’s always been you and me”. 
I’m sorry Dean, you know I love you to pieces, but what the actual fuck was that? What does it even mean? That single line essentially strips away any kind of meaningful contribution of any side characters… Including Castiel “always happy to bleed for the Winchesters”’s, and Jack’s who quite literally saved the whole world ONE EPISODE PRIOR.
Not to mention that the fact we don’t get to see Cas again leave Dean’s entire character’s arc incomplete. What was the point of season 15, which focused so deeply on Dean and Cas’ relationship, if in the end the entire character’s arc gets dropped?
So what’s the message being sent here? 
“Found family was a myth, it’s always been sorely about the Winchesters”? 
“Ha! Tricked ya!”?
Why did Supernatural, after a decade and a half spent consolidating the contribution of side characters, decided to essentially throw it all away?
Why did Supernatural, after a decade spent crafting meaningful relationships within the show, decided to light it all up on fire and end its run with an episode that basically tells the audience that none of it really mattered, it’s always been sorely about Dean and Sam.
I would’ve been fine with a Sam and Dean episode if Castiel had more than a one-off mention, if they didn’t give Sam a blurry wife, if Dean had the funeral he deserved (with a rock band, whisky, and all the fellow hunters and family he found along the way), if Sam didn’t spend the rest of his life mourning his brother. I would’ve been fine with only getting Jim Beaver on screen (because Covid) if we had been given something more than just Dean driving for his last 5 minutes on screen. It would have been FINE, if Supernatural hadn’t essentially forgotten about what made Supernatural, well, Supernatural.
Long story short, I feel tricked. And I know a lot of you feel tricked too, because this isn’t what we’ve been fed for the past 15 years. Supernatural was a show about finding your way through life and death and horror and trauma, with help from people you found along the way who became linked to your story because you cared for each other. And Supernatural ended by telling us that found family didn’t really matter, that Dean was always going to die on a random hunt, that Sam could never be truly happy without his brother by his side. Talk about a downgrade, uh?
I don’t know why they decided to throw their entire legacy to the wind. Truth be told, I don’t think we’ll ever get to know. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to stay pissed about it. That doesn’t mean I’m going to ever be okay with my favorite show deciding to end its run with a finale episode so deeply disconnected from their 15-year story that it felt utterly shallow.
They said “Family don’t end with blood”… But after all of this, doesn’t it, though?
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yinyangswings · 3 years
Text
Hanging off the Ledge
Fandom: Assassin's Creed Unity
Characters: Arno Dorian, Reader, Elise de la Serre (mentioned)
Pairing: Arno x femReader
Notes/Warnings: Implied thoughts of suicide, drinking, mention of vomit, used Google translate for my French so forgive me on that
Word count: 3088
Summary: You knew that there would always be trials when you fell in love with Assassin Arno Dorian. Knew that he had demons within him. What you didn't know was that your own demons would rear their heads at a vulnerable moment after an argument with him. Nor did you know that it would be Arno who finds you standing on the ledge of the South Tower of Notre-Dame, staring down at the streets of Paris.
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She wandered around the streets of Paris. The moon mingled with the lamp light, the sound of men singing from the bars, dogs barking, a cat hissing from an alleyway.
She didn’t really notice.
“You’re going to get yourself killed if you keep being reckless like this, Arno!”
“For fuck’s sake Elise, I’m not a child!!”
She frowned, wrapping her arms around herself. The argument itself wasn’t a new one. She thought he was being reckless and he, as usual, didn’t appreciate being coddled. And if she was being truthful with herself, this hadn’t been the first time he had called her Elise by mistake. Right after she had died, he would call her that on a nearly daily basis. She had red hair. Elise had red hair. For a man who had been drinking away his sorrows, it hadn’t been a surprise to get the both of them confused. But as a few years had gone by and he had grieved correctly he had stopped. She had thought, naively apparently, that maybe he was beginning to move on. When they had gotten together she had thought that maybe he actually loved her. That, while Elise would always have some part of his heart, which she had expected, she could share with the ghost of his former lover.
But that seemed like it was a lost cause.
He doesn’t love you. He loves Elise. He’ll always love Elise over you. If he could save her by sacrificing you, he’d do it without hesitation.
She felt her eyes begin to burn and she roughly rubbed under them, pointedly ignoring the voice whispering in the back of her mind, but was pushing into her mind like a nail. She slowed when she found herself in front of Notre-Dame, the large building looming in the square. It wasn’t a church anymore. Some cult now ran it. The Cult of Supreme Being, if she remembered correctly. It was dark, signifying no one was likely in there.
Perfect.
She worked the door open and slid into the shadowed building. She remembered being a child and coming here once with her father and brother. It had been a beautiful cathedral, the stained glass glistening down upon the pews, the statues, the soft hymns of the choir.
She had gotten in trouble for staring too long, but she couldn’t help it. It had been a comfort for her.
It was now a shadow of what it once was. A daily reminder of the mistakes of this country. Of the change that had happened.
Just like you. You’re a mistake.
She found herself walking up the stairs in the back, her footsteps echoing despite being as quiet as she could. Several staircases, unlocking some doors, and climbing more stairs later she found herself in one of the towers, staring at the bells.
It was so quiet, only the wind passing through the room seemed to sing its song. She slid her hand across the one bell near her, feeling the chill of bronze soak into her hand. She jumped when her foot kicked something and she looked down to see a small crate of...wine bottles?
“Oh for God’s sake. Really?” She muttered, bending down to look at it more closely. It looked like someone had had the idea that no one would look for wine in an abandoned church.
Well...at least no one who wasn’t an assassin and knew how to pick locks.
She hesitated for a moment before she flipped the bottle over and looked at the label. It wasn’t even a good year. But it would do. She worked the cork out and took a swig, grimacing at the taste. She took another swig.
You’re useless. It’s no wonder your father died hating your existence. Why your brother died hating you.
And another.
You’re a disgrace to the Creed and the Brotherhood.
And another. The wine tasted bitter and she knew that she should stop, but it was helping with the pain, numbing it.
Arno will never love you. He will never see you as anything more than a replacement.
She coughed violently as she choked on the wine, not able to tell if the burn in her eyes was because of that or something else. She sank back, sniffling slightly and coughing at the burn. The voice was relentless.
Usually she could ignore it, plaster on a smile and carry on her day. But now…
Now…
Wouldn’t it be better if you just ended it?
As though to bolster the suggestion a sharp breeze rushed past her, creating a mournful sound through the tower she was in and she looked towards the opening.
And she took a step forward.
--------------
Arno Dorian was not in the greatest of moods as he jumped from roof to roof. The argument was still fresh in his mind. He understood Y/N’s point of view on the whole thing, but he felt that he wasn’t a child that needed to be coddled. He was an assassin, just like her. He hadn’t appreciated her scolding him, but looking back it hadn’t been a critique but more of a worry of hers. And he yelled at her, making her leave their room and the Café. Which was why he was running around Paris like a lunatic in the middle of the night looking for her to apologize. He had considered waiting at the Café but after three hours, he began to grow worried. Even at her angriest, she hadn’t been gone that long.
His desperation was growing in stature when she wasn’t in any of her normal spots that she would go to. He was about to head back and see if she had made it back to the Café when the moon peeked out of the clouds and illuminated Notre-Dame. He spotted a flash of red on the top of the South Tower. He stumbled to a stop, looking up, squinting to get a good look, before hurrying over to the church, making short work of getting to the top.
Sure enough it was Y/N, sitting on the railing of the tower. She glanced over her shoulder, before looking back out towards the city.
“Bonjour Arno.”
“There you are.” He huffed, landing on the roof of the tower, a frown on his face. He took a step and blinked as he kicked a wine bottle, watching it roll away from him.
“...Fancy a drink tonight?”
“Casse-toi. Like you’re any better.” Y/N slurred, taking another swig from another wine bottle, swaying slightly in the wind.
“Y/N, get off the ledge.” Arno said evenly, despite his heart threatening to pound its way out of his chest. “You’ll fall, Cherié.”
She cackled, though there didn’t seem to be any humor in her voice.
“Wouldn’t that be…” She hiccuped. “Wouldn’t that be une tragédie? I’m sure my funeral would have a grand total of...one attendee; moi! They might even bury me, or they’ll just dump my body into the Seine.”
She laughed again though he frowned.
“Y/N.”
She glared at him, before rolling her eyes, and pointedly ignoring him, taking a swig from the bottle in her hand. She was silent, staring at the few people of Paris wandering around, unaware of the two assassins sitting above them.
“Suppose I’d need to avoid some random passerby though, oui? Can’t...can’t hurt an innocent because of the Creed.”
It was as if cold water had been dumped on him.
She couldn’t mean...she wasn’t seriously considering...
“Y/N, get off the ledge.”
It wasn’t a gentle request anymore. She scoffed, standing like a child who was being called home during a riveting game of tag and didn’t want to. She swayed and stumbled on it, drawing closer to the edge.
“And if I do that by jumping off? No stacks of hay down there that I can see.” She asked good naturedly, her voice amazingly calm.
“Y/N, don’t joke like that.”
“Who’s saying I’m joking?” She hummed, twirling in an unsteady circle, swaying backwards. Arno dashed forward, grabbing her arm and yanking her back onto the roof, the bottle falling out of her hand and disappearing over the edge. He could only hope it didn’t hit anyone below as his arms folded around her, holding her close as she began to fight against him.
“Avez-vous perdu la raison?” He snapped. “Why would you even consider killing yourself?!”
“Because the place would be better without me!”
Arno staggered backwards as she kicked at his legs, his mind reeling, trying to catch up with the situation, but unable to comprehend it.
“What are you talking about?! Do you know how devastated we’d be if you died?!”
“Who, Arno? Who would fucking miss me!?” She cried, fighting against him. “My family is gone, Arno! My brother died hating me because of the reason I was even brought into this world! Father hated me because I killed Mother! Name on fucking person who would care if my brains splattered on the steps of Notre-Dame below!”
“Me!”
To that she let out a laugh that could have been a sob.
“You? YOU!?” Her voice went into hysterics. “You don’t give a damn about me! You never did!”
“Y/N, what’s gotten into you!? Of course I-”
“I’M NOT ELISE!”
He went still and he released her in shock. She stumbled away, but didn’t attempt to jump off the ledge again. She seemed to curl into herself, tears sliding down her face as she looked at him.
“You think...you think I’m stupid? Or blind? You don’t think I don’t know that you see Elise every fucking time I fucking turn and you see my hair, or when we spar, or...or argue? You think I’m that blind to not see that ache in your eyes every damn time you even look at me?? For fuck’s sake Arno, you’ve called me her damn name tonight!” She inhaled sharply, trying to stop crying, but failing. His eyes darted from side to side, replaying the argument earlier in his mind, before his eyes widened.
“Y/N, I didn’t-”
“Do you know how much it hurts trying to pretend I’m happy, when I’m reminded daily just how unnecessary and unwanted I am in this world? How much better you and this world would be without me? You want Elise back so much but I’m not Elise. I can’t be her. I can’t even begin to compare to her.” She whimpered. “I’m an assassin, but I was literally only born to be that because my brother was too sickly to be one. And despite that, despite working day in and day out to prove to him I could be a good assassin, I know that my father didn’t even want me! So...so why even bother being here? No one wants me, Arno. I’m just...just this big mistake...I...I…”
“Ma Cherié…” He said, his voice suddenly rough and he hurried over to her, pulling her to him again. She struggled for a moment, beating at his chest to get him to let go. He did not, digging his hand into her hair to keep her still. “Ma Cherié, no.”
“Let go, Arno!”
“No. Not until you listen to me.” He said. “I know I make mistakes. Too many to count. I hurt you so much without even realizing it. And you are the most patient woman to not murder me in my sleep for that.” He trailed off, swallowing noisily, “Oui, there are times I think about Elise, and wonder what life would be if she was still alive, and oui sometimes there are moments where I see her in you.”
She struggled against him again and he thanked the wine running through her right now. At least he could get her to listen to him.
“But that doesn’t mean I’d be better off without you. That I don’t want you here.”
She went still.
“I love you Cherié. I love you so much. You don’t deserve all this pain and weight I’ve put on your shoulders. Especially with Elise. There are similarities between the two of you, but the differences outweigh them. Christ...I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve anything you give me.”
He moved her head away, cupping her face in his hands, brushing away the tears that were sliding down her cheeks.
“I don’t deserve waking up with you curled up to me and if I try to leave the bed, you hold onto me because it’s not yet time to wake up in your mind. I don’t deserve listening to you hum as you’re fixing a stitch in our robes while leaning against me, or your laughter when you’re sparring and you’ve pinned me. I don’t deserve having you scold me for being an idiot on a mission, yet having my back on said mission. I don’t deserve any of that.”
She stared at him and he gave a desperate laugh, his eyes glittering in tears.
“But even though I don’t deserve it, every day you bless me with those tiny memories. How could I be better off without you?”
She inhaled sharply, tears sliding down her cheeks. She let out a soft keening sound, closing her eyes tightly as a sob tore out of her throat, silencing the voice that was begging her to just pivot and jump.
“I can’t Arno...I just...I…I...I don’t know what to do.”
She heard him inhale shakily and felt him kiss her brow. He seemed to be shaking as well. He pulled her back into a hug, and she didn’t resist this time, just sobbing, face pressed into his shoulder.
“...Let’s go home.” His voice whispered into her ear after several minutes, rough as though he was holding back emotions. She nodded weakly, and he lifted her and carried her away. Before she could even object, he was walking down the stairs and past the bells of Notre-Dame.
She didn’t remember how exactly they got back to the Café Theatrë. She did remember having to stop several times in alleyways to puke her guts out from all that damn wine she drank. She remembered that Arno’s touch never seemed to vanish. Whether it was holding her hair away from the vomit, rubbing her back as she heaved, or holding her close to make sure she didn’t fall flat on her face when she stumbled away, he was always touching her.
The last thing she really remembered was going up the stairs to their room, being laid down on the bed and feeling a kiss against her temple. The next thing she knew, the sun was beaming into the room and her head felt like it had been used as a drum.
She let out a groan and curled up under the blanket, trying to rid herself of the headache. Distantly she heard a soft chuckle and then the clink of a cup on the nightstand.
“Can’t say I envy you. I know from experience it isn’t fun. Though this is a change in roles from what I usually remember.” Arno’s voice said softly. She muttered an expletive and peeked her head out from the covers. Arno sat down on the edge of the bed, offering a smile.
“Whatimeizzit?”
“It’s close to noon. I figured with the amount of drinking you did last night, you earned your sleep.”
Y/N groaned, covering her face with the blanket again.
“Come on. Let’s get some food into you. I promise you’ll feel much better.”
“If I ever go towards a wine bottle again, you are free to spank me.” She muttered, finally leaving the cocoon of blankets and Arno smiled.
“Oui m'dame. Granted, while it is a tempting offer, I have a feeling that’s not going to happen anytime soon.” He said and she snorted, instantly regretting it and cursed under her breath. He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead before handing her a pastry.
“Eat.”
She wasn’t really hungry, but nibbled on it anyways, glancing over at him as he watched her. He was just staring at her as though making sure this wasn’t a dream and she was actually sitting in their bed alive and well, despite the hangover. He had dark bags under his eyes, which were curiously bloodshot. He was wearing the same clothes he had been wearing the night before. Almost as if he hadn’t...
“Did you stay up the entire night?” She muttered in surprise, realization dawning slowly in her hungover brain.
“...I wanted to make sure you didn’t try and leave to go back to Notre-Dame.” He finally said and she grimaced, looking away.
"Je suis désolé, Arno. I didn’t-”
“No! No, don’t apologize...just...is that the first time you’ve...that you’ve considered that?”
She shrugged.
“I’ve never gone as far as I did last night...but there’s always that voice in the back of my head saying that everyone would be better off if I wasn’t around...I don’t usually listen to it. But it was just...so loud last night. It drowned everything else out.”
“Y/N…”
She shifted away, embarrassed. He swallowed roughly before cupping her face, brushing a thumb against her cheek bone. She leaned into his touch, finally looking up at him.
“If it does happen again, if that voice becomes too loud?” He asked softly. “Find me. I meant what I said last night. I love you. I don’t deserve you, but I love you. And I’ll spend every day I have remaining telling you that. So find me, and I’ll put to rest any worry you have.”
She nodded, closing her eyes as he kissed her forehead, her cheeks, the tip of her nose, and then very delicately her lips, before resting his forehead against hers.
It wasn’t a clean fix. There were still problems that needed to be discussed. Issues that needed to be talked about. In the future he would have nightmares of wondering what if he hadn’t gone looking for her, if the next day they had found her body at the steps of Notre-Dame, and waking up in a cold sweat to check and see if she was still there next to him, still breathing. For a while after, she couldn’t go near Notre-Dame, couldn’t even take a sip of wine before her stomach revolted at the contents because it reminded her of that night.
But right then and there, it didn’t matter.
She was sitting there breathing, and in his arms.
And that was all Arno Dorian cared about.
--------------
Translations:
Bonjour : Hello
Casse-toi: Fuck off
Cherié: Sweetheart
Une tragédie: A tragedy
Moi: Me
Oui: Yes
Avez-vous perdu la raison: Have you lost your mind?
Ma Cherié: My Sweetheart
Oui m'dame: Yes Ma'am
Je suis désolé: I am sorry
121 notes · View notes
ktffansub · 3 years
Text
Bijutsu Techo: Boys Love – Interview: Yoneda Kou
This article was first published in November 17th, 2014. Translated from Japanesse to Bahasa Indonesia by kalengjelek and then translated from Bahasa Indonesia to English by KTFfansub. Source: here
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When did you first encounter manga?
I was born in a family with three daughters; while my older sister likes reading Ribbon magazine, I like reading Nakayoshi. It was the era of Asagiri Yuu-sensei, when I was in elementary school. My favorite at that time were Kusunoki Kei sensei’s works and Patlabor. When it came to Shonen, I would say I was more into Shounen Sunday. I also loved Kawaraha Izumi sensei’s works. When I think about it, rather than manga that were full of passion, I’d actually prefer manga that had calm and soothing kind of vibe.
Is that so… What about BL?
When I was in Junior High, my older sister showed me Captain Tsubasa Doujinshi by Ozaki Minami and I was dumbfounded, I thought, “So, there’s also a world like this!”. After that, I started to buy BL manga. At that time, the mangaka who left the most impression to me was Nishi Keikosensei. Her works such as Mizu Ga Koori Ni Naru Toki, Tenshi Ni Naranakya have unique openings, it made me reread them many times. Uida Shiuko (now Kano Shiuko) and Yoshinaga Fumi Sensei are also my favorite mangaka.
When was the first time you draw manga?
I seriously began drawing manga in my first year of junior high. At first, I drew a pair of man and woman, but after page three, I felt something was off. So, I tried drawing BL for the next one. Just like the present, I’ve always loved less expressive and less-talkactive main characters (laughs). But the more I draw, then an attentive senpai with good personality and short haired ones like Togawa in Doushitemo Furetakunai also appeared. At that moment I thought, “Oh, this is it!”
You really weren’t embarrassed, are you? (laughs)
Well, it’s because it was embarrassing, that’s why I’m not really open about my drawing manga activity.
(laughs) But you debut as professional mangaka eventually, how did that happen?
Yes, after that… I worked as office lady. I got married not long after, but then, I was getting through a marriage blues. At that time, I was invested in Kakashi and Naruto shown by my older sister along with Comiket catalogue.
The power of moe beats out your anxiety (laughs)
It’s true (laughs). Escaping from reality, I checked a lot of circles and opened some sites. There I found a work from a novelist (now has debuted professionally) that I really liked. This is why I started writing novel at first, not drawing. I have a lot of ways to accommodate my moe needs. I also once drew Doujinshi but due to my inability to use a proper diction, the result wasn’t optimal (laughs). After drawing slowly and more at ease, I got into Katekyo Hitman Reborn fandom and drew a lot of doujinshi for that series. A year later, I was contacted by Taiyou Tosho publisher.
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“With that publisher, Yoneda Kou published Doushitemo Furetakunai which has been adapted into a movie. Since the beginning, Yoneda Kou didn’t draw one-shot but serialization. For the movie, even though it only tells a story of daily lives, but the directing, composition and dialogue are impressive. About 4,5 years later, the second volume of Saezuru Tori wa Habatakanai that had the yakuza neighborhood setting was released. This has completely different feeling compared to Doushitemo Furetakunai.”
My first work was actually published in Drap, so I had it adjusted to be a less-heavy work. That’s why I ended up switching to another magazine.
Was it a demand from the editor?
Of course I only draw what I want to draw. But without realizing, I always draw them to fit the magazine. And it seems like Taiyou Tosho prefers me to draw more simple work.
So, sensei is the type who pays attention to editor’s suggestion. When you wrote the first chapter of Saezuru Tori Wa Habatakanai, did you already want Yashiro to be the main character (for longterm series)?
Right. I didn’t explain it in the first one-shot, but I always believe that no matter how you look at it, Yashiro really loved Kageyama. And (even though he’s drawn like that) he is actually a neko (uke). I think he is an interesting character. When I drew highschooler Yashiro and others, it had been decided that I wanted to write a serialization for this.
And only then the character Doumeki was born?
At that time, the character Doumeki didn’t exist, but I thought very hard about what kind of partner that would be suitable for Yashiro. I took a break from drawing for about two years. I only worked on illustration during that time, until one morning an idea suddenly came to me, “That’s right! Erectile dysfunction!”. I immediately sent an email to my editor: “A perverted impotent man!” (laughs). Afterwards, I finally worked on the first draft.
(laughs hard) Finally, the combination of Yashiro and Doumeki who are the opposite of each other was decided. What an amazing couple that can even make the readers losing sleep.
I do have this particular interest in people’s decision and behaviour resulted from a contrasting relationship that is full of conflicts. Because there are so many characters in Saezuru, I have this excel file compiling the plot for each character chronologically. Otherwise, I would’ve forgotten about it. If I didn’t seriously research (the setting of my own story), I wouldn’t be able to write anything when I made name. But even though I got through it, drawing a family with no blood ties like yakuza was still difficult. If I don’t focus, the story might turn out like Nagara Sakugyou*. That’s why now I’m just focusing on doing Saezuru.
*) nagara sakugyou: other work that being serialized at the same time
Up until now, Sensei has published 5 volumes and all of them have beautiful covers with varied tones.
Actually, the cover color for Doushitemo Furetakunai should’ve looked like red wine, but it seemed like there was an error in printing so the pink was contrasting into it. But it turned out to be good.
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Then about the cover for the Saezuru first volume. It’s so impressive! The stepped-on man! All the people around me also had high appraise for this.
Actually, there were so many things happened in the process. By taking the request (it isn’t clearly explained whether it’s from editor/designer) of “Yashiro sitting alone”, I first submitted that illustration to the book designer. However, I couldn’t throw away the idea of Yashiro being stepped on, so, during the next three days I was stressed out. I’ve finally asked them to keep my idea and that’s how the cover of the first volume ended up the way it is now.
I see! For the second volume, it’s totally different, isn’t it? It’s a scenery, but when you do a double take, there are Yashiro and Doumeki!
I always want to give a different vibe in each volume. Actually I’m also a fan of the way Tsumugi Taku-sensei draws scenery.
Hoo-, sensei is a fan of Tsumugi sensei! Talking abough NIGHTS, when you open the cover, there’s a surprise in it!
Yes, if you look at the rough sketches there were 4 pages of picture that were interconnected. In the end, the desainer took picture number two as the cover and number four to put it on the bottom of the back cover. For Soredemo, I didn’t get any guide from the book designer. I combined the the feel of the story with a touch of water paint. At first, I actually wanted to make Deguchi pulling Onoda’s hand to get out of the train, but it ended up looking like Deguchi forced Onoda to stay (with him). So I decided it’s Onoda who’s getting off the train by himself with Deguchi waiting on the platform.
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Do you do the coloring with computer? How about the non-colored script?
I use SAI for coloring but for monochrome I usually draw by my hand until the inking, then I do the tone using photoshop.
Do you self-learned drawing?
Well, I at least bought a lot of ‘pose reference’ books often. When it comes to buy things, it feels great, doesn’t it? But when it comes to manga, we draw to tell our moe concept.. well, I love drawing moe concept, but the thing is- I’m not really good at drawing. I like thinking about moe stuff, I also like to combine colors (inside my head) but when I do, I have no desire to draw I, even though that’s the important part. There are often times when I feel like drawing is a handful. In short, I want to draw something that isn’t too troublesome.
But, isnt it because you’re doing manga seriously that it feels difficult?
Because I’m too serious I feel like the story can be boring. Not only the work but also the author (laughs). I often read comments saying my manga is ‘down to earth’. I guess it’s shown obviously in every each of my works
Sure, there are people who think like, “In real world, there’s no way a wakagashira can be as masochist as Yashiro”, but apart from that, Saezuru still gives an impression of it being realistic. In drawing the important men’s arms and muscles in your work, sensei has done your best. Getting into the story, the characters also put extra effort to look elegant. Despite the young age, in a positive sense, sensei’s works feels like having Showa* vibe.
(*SHOWA ERA: 1926~1989)
I’m no longer young, though (laughs). Maybe this is why my works often get called “JUNE”. Especially Saezuru, I think it really fits (JUNE concept).
Are you an organized person?
I’m actually a person who have no chill (laughs). But I have this side of myself who tend to see things as a whole, look at my surrounding then step on the brake. There is also a side of me that is so energetic in creating my own moe that I turn into a selfish person. I guess that’s also my flaw.
It seems like sensei is the type who has her own editorial meeting inside her head (laughs)
I wish it’s not true, but unfortunately, I’m the type of person who is embarrased to admit that I have a relationship with manga. Even until now I have yet told my close friends about this job (as BL mangaka). I’m not that kind of person who like to share or tell others about my moe situation inside my head. When my moe concept is being visualized in public I would scream, “Don’t look! But if you want to read it, I’d be happy”. Yes, I’m that kind of person.
I wonder if sensei’s works are the manifestation of sensei’s own self-contradictions..
207 notes · View notes
nyasiaaaaa · 3 years
Text
The Little things
Pairing: Din Djarin x Fem reader
Word count: 8k
Warnings: established relationship, shooting, angst, Smut (18+), spanking, Dom/Sub, oral sex ( m and f receiving) P in V, fingering ( f receiving), spitting, use of good girl ( once), breeding kink if you squint, Fluff, helmet-less Din ( he only wears it when he’s outside), tw eating
A/N: First time writing smut and first time writing for a Pedro character. For @its--fandom--darling 1k follower celebration!!! Thank you @absurdthirst for all your help. Thank you @aripariii for looking over this.

You throw your head back in frustration as you contemplate giving up feeding the kid. You had been trying to feed him vegetables for the past week. Every time you wanted to feed him some smashed peas with a spoon, he would use the force to push it into your mouth. You lift your head as you take a deep breath, ready to try again when Din walks in and throws jerky on the table for the kid. You look at Din in disbelief before getting up to clean the mess while you let the kid eat.
“I’ll be back in a few; this shouldn’t take long,” Din announced as he stood in place, scanning the room for his blaster.
“You missing something,” you asked, hopping on one of the crates looking over at him with a mischievous smile 
“Give it,” he grumbled out, walking up to you holding his hand out
“Give what,” you questioned as you tilted your head. “Give this,” you smiled, pulling out his blaster.
Din tried to reach for it as you pulled back “nope, let’s make a deal.”
“I don’t have time for games, cyar’ika,” he replied trying to convince you to give it up.
“Then let’s not play any. I’ll give you your blaster if you quit giving the kid what he wants when I’m trying to give him a balanced diet, ok.” 
“Ok,” he agrees to take the blaster from your hand. 
“Also, you don’t have to rush back for lunch; just make sure you are here for dinner” he gave you a nod in response as he fished, packing up his things.
You pick the kid up and dust him over, carrying him over to Din so he could say bye. Din looked down at his son and ruffled his head before looking at you. He bent down, placing his cold beskar helmet against your head. He didn’t need to say anything you already knew and vise versa. Din straightened up and walked towards the ramp before typing in buttons and letting it down. 
As Din was walking away, he stopped to remind you for the millionth time, “cyar’ika, don’t leave the ship, this is one of the most dangerous plants and-“
“I know you’ve told me all this before. I won’t leave me. The kid and I are going to chill here and watch cartoons or something,” you told him, interrupting his repetitive speech.
He stood there hesitantly, debating in his head before choosing to just walk down the ramp and away. You guys never did that stop and turn around things you’ve seen in movies; there was no need to. He was always going to come back; he had promised you. 
As soon as the Din was far away enough, you closed the ramp and started getting ready to leave. Dins birthday is coming up, and you’re trying to make him a chocolate cake. In one of your late-night pillow talks, you asked Din what he remembers from his childhood before the Mandalorian, he replies that he doesn’t remember a lot. What he does remember is how every year, for his birthday, his mom would make him a chocolate cake. It was the best thing he has ever eaten in his life, well, the second-best thing he adds a few seconds later. 
Since then, you have been collecting all the ingredients you need to make the cake over the next couple of weeks. You have everything but cocoa powder, the most crucial ingredient. You’ve looked everywhere, every plant, every website you couldn’t find it anywhere else but this plant. 
You don’t want to go against what Din has asked you, especially because you said you wouldn’t. Still, you just wanted to do something special for him, for his birthday, because he deserved it. After all, he had done for you, you wanted to do something for him even if others might consider it a little thing you knew it would mean a lot to Din.
 For example a few months ago, you tried to make sure Din started enjoying his meals more and eating meals more frequently. You did this by eating together like a clan Breakfast, Lunch, and dinner. You and Din sit next to each other at the small table you had built together, the kid in his high chair. Din had to adjust to it but never complained. He even started to look forward to it, rushing back to the ship sometimes after a bounty to make it in time for lunch or dinner.  
You smiled, thinking fondly of the memories you’ve created with your clan over the past months as you started getting ready to leave. As you’re finishing up and was about to leave, you activate the droid; you have to watch the kid. This droid you had found in a past mission but never had a reason to fix it until now. You had been working on it the ship during flight and while Din was away on hunts. 
When Din had asked you about the droid, you said you were programming the IG-11 to help clean around the ship. Din had been uncertain because of its killing background but ended up letting it go. You had lied though, you had kept the Droids programming and just added few changes to it. The changes were that when you left, its mission was to protect the child and take care of all its needs. It was to kill anyone or thing that came onto the ship unless it was you, Din, or the kid. 
The little white lie was never a problem either because you only activated the droid when you and Din were out to watch the kid, and you always made sure to come back to the ship before Din to deactivate it, plus Din never questioned why he’d never seen the droid in “action.” 
You set out to the local market nearby, where you were hoping to find the last ingredient so you could make the cake. Since you started a little late today and this is one of the most dangerous plants in the galaxy, you walked a bit faster than usual. The quicker you walked, the more excited you got. You were about to be done getting all the supplies to make the cake, just in time, because Dins birthday was in a couple of weeks. As you neared the market, you prayed to Maker that the thing you’re risking your life over was going to be here. You were incredibly proud of yourself for keeping this a secret from Din without him suspecting a thing.
***********
Din had tracked his bounty to a bar nearby; as he neared the bar, he could hear the noise of people inside. As soon as he stepped foot into the bar, it went silent, some people shaking in fear, others puffing their chest out and rising onto the balls of their feet slightly. Din looked around the bar; it wasn’t a bad bar. It just wasn’t the nicest. 
The same color brown wood was throughout, green bar stools, plastic lawns chairs, mice having a party in every corner. Also, the floor was sticky; he could feel it with every step he took, he would have to use a little more effort than usual to lift his foot up, and you could hear it in every step. Din hadn’t spotted his bounty during his initial scan of the room, so he turned to the bartender to ask if he had seen the bounty. The bartender wasted no time and pointed to the backroom as he kept his head down. Din reaches the backroom and sees a smaller room same design and layout as the front with four men playing poker and three bodyguards. Dins usually not a man of words, but he doesn’t really feel like fighting today, so he tells them, “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. The choice is yours.”
 One guard rushes towards Din and tries to grab him, but Din is quicker; he pulls a blaster and shoots a bodyguard in the chest. He starts getting attacked by two of the bodyguards but takes them out with ease. After the last bodyguard fell to the floor, he heard footsteps pounding against the floor, then pressure is applied to his back, one of the poker players had jumped on him. Din falls backward, crushing the person underneath him; he then quickly rolls over, props himself on one knee, and pulls his blaster to shoot the guy. Din then whips his gun around to the other side of the room to find two people standing there shaking with their hands up, neither of them his bounty. Din snaps his head in the direction of the door he came in as he hears the bell ring that’s placed above the door. He pushes himself off the ground and starts chasing after the man.
*************
You had to go to three different vendors in the market, but you finally found the cocoa powder you were looking for, the lady dared to charge you three times its worth, but you didn’t care anything for Din. You had to wander deep into the market to find the cocoa, so on your way out, you were doing a slight jog. You had hoped you were making good time and would make it back in time, but you had no way of knowing for sure.
***************
Din is chasing after the guy, and he’s so close the guy knows this too. The bounty suddenly stops in the middle of a crowd; he pulls out a blaster and waves it. Sounds of shock and fear echoed threw out the public. Din steps forward to get the guy he needs alive; the man suddenly looks around frantically, pulls the closest person to him, and puts a gun to their head. It was you. The bounty had put the gun to your head. Din’s mind blanks. He has no other thoughts besides getting to you; he doesn’t care if the bounty is for him brought in cold. The bounty had touched what’s his. 
Din quickly pulls his blaster ready to fire when suddenly you pull forward, folding over as you push down on your toes; you then spring up, moving your head back to strike the man’s head. The man then stumbles backward from the sudden impact. Din is quick to act as he runs towards the man and then shoots the man in his arm, the man falls to the ground, and Din proceeds to lift the man up and place him in handcuffs. 
Din turns towards you to scan your body as he looks for any injuries. His beskar covered face then looks up towards you as he asks, “hurt,” and you proceed to shake your head no. Before you can ask if he’s hurt, he grabs your arm and pushes you in front of him, signaling to walk. You do walk as he follows, dragging the bounty behind him. 
The journey back to the ship was quiet, too quiet even the bounty tried to speak on the tensions, “struggle in paradise, eh.” 
Din pressed his finger into his wound for that one.
You’d been so distracted by the event that happened you had forgotten about the droid, but it was too late. Din had already typed in the code, and the ramp was coming down. 
This was the first time, the one time Din wasn’t the faster person in the room; by the time Din pulled his blaster out, it was too late. It all happened in a blink of an eye. The bounty was dead. The droid shot him. 
You were nervous, it’s not like you were in desperate need of the credits, but the money could have help, and you know Din just went through a lot to get him.
“The child is safe, would you li-“IG-11 started before Din shot him. You were about to complain, but then you remember the situation you were in.
You stood in silence for a couple of minutes before deciding to look at Din only to find him staring at you. You turned your head away so quick that pain in your neck started to arise. “Din I-I-I’m so so sorry this is all my fault, I’ll take the blame, ok. Just tell Greef Karga, ok. Can he be brought in dead? I mean, it’s not a big deal, y-y-you’ve done it before. Greef Karga will s-still a-a-a-accept it right …. RIGHT!”
Din didn’t utter a word as he dragged the body onto the ship; he put the body into carbon freeze and closed the ramp. Then he just stood there. He didn’t move an inch. The tension in the air was so thick, you could even breathe properly. You knew this was your time to leave him alone. Earlier, you had noticed that the kid wasn’t in IG-11s arms, so you were planning on looking for him, assuming that he had been put to sleep because this was around his nap time.
“Ok, so I see that you need alone time; I’m just going to find the kid and take care of him,” you said as you turned to go look for him.
You didn’t even get to do a complete 180 before Din grabbed onto your wrist and twisted it, pulling your body closer to him. You could hear the hard deep breaths he was taking as he stared right into your soul.
“Why,” he whispered out, hurt invoice.
 “I-I-I,” you tried to speak, your eyes moving back and forth as you tried to find his.
“Why would you be so stupid? I told you not to leave, I told you this place was dangerous. You didn’t listen, why can’t you ever just listen.” He snapped at you, saying every word with a tremble. He let you go and started to walk away from dragging his feet across the floor.
“I’m sorry,” you choked out, your eyes watering up, tears threatening to fall.
 Your words had made him stop dead in his tracks. “Are you” he questions as he walks towards you. Each step he took towards you, you took one back till your back hit the wall. You were nervous but weren’t afraid, you knew Din would never hurt you, but you still didn’t like to be around him when he got like this. 
“WHAT WAS SO IMPORTANT THAT YOU RISKED YOUR LIFE FOR? DO YOU EVEN UNDERSTAND THAT YOU COULD HAVE DIED TODAY? DO YOU EVEN CARE?”
You did understand how sideways things could have gone, and you were trying to tell him that, but the words kept getting caught in your throat. So you ended up just slowly shaking your head in agreement.
“Are you sure cause you don’t seem like it? What about that FUCKING droid? You lied to me; why would you do that? You already know how I feel about them, so why would you do that. And to leave THE KID with it. I hope whatever you got was worth it. Just do what I brought you here for and watch the child,” he growled out as he walked away towards the cockpit so he could set our next coordinates. 
You stood there for a second shook but started to move to find the kid after the ship took off. He was in your old room, which you and Din turned into a toddler’s room after you moved into his. You picked the kid up and sat down in a rocking chair. You hugged the kid close to you as tears fell down your cheek. You were angry. Din had no right to talk to you like that. You messed up, you understand that, but to yell at you like he did have. Plus, you had risked your life for something for him. It doesn’t matter that he didn’t know it; he should know you better than to just assume that you would have intentionally risked your life for something stupid.
***********
 Din sat in his chair in the cockpit, feeling the weight of guilt immediately; the weight of his beskar couldn’t even compare to how heavy this felt. He felt awful; he regretted every word that came out of his mouth. He was just so angry; he had almost lost the only person he has ever cared about since his parents besides the kid. That was no excuse; he has had his fair share of screw-ups, the number of times he has almost gotten killed was too many to try to count on both hands.
 He took his helmet off and put his hands in his head. He was stressed after all the events that happened today, but he was most worried about what had just happened in the bay. He deliberated on going down there and apologizing to you but ultimately decided to give you your space and apologize later today. 
Din was going to apologize, he swore on Maker, but later that day, when he found you so he could apologize, you were sleeping in your old room. He was tempted to move you to the room you shared but then decide against it knowing you had fallen asleep in your old room for a reason. He slept in the cockpit that night; it didn’t feel right without you next to him. It’s funny Din spent most of his life alone; now he doesn’t even know how to sleep alone. 
The next day Din did honestly try to apologize to you, but every time he entered the same room as you were in, you got up and left. Din understood that you probably need space after the fourth time stepping into the same room as you and you walking out. Din decided that you probably needed one more day.
The next day came, and you still were leaving every room he came into. He was sad; he missed the family dinners and lunches, he couldn’t wait any longer, he decided to apologize to you as soon as possible.
Din stepped into the kitchen area around lunchtime; he knew you were cooking something that requires your full attention, so he knew you wouldn’t step away. 
“I’m-I’m sorry, I should have never yelled at you like that. I was angry because the bounty tried to run and then held you at gunpoint, he was touching what was mine, and I-I-I took it out on you. I should have never taken it out on you; I’m sure whatever you went out for was well worth it. I’m sorry, cyar’ika, ni kar’tayl gar darasuum.”
Din waited there for something, anything, you didn’t say a single word. You instead finished up your cooking, turned the stove off, and proceeded to fix you and the child a plate before heading off to the cockpit to eat. 
Din stood there in shock; this is not how things usually go after an argument. Din stood there for a few minutes as he contemplated what to do next. Maybe he had said it wrong, he thought; Din hadn’t apologized a lot in his life, he could count how many times on one hand, and all those times he had been with you. All those times, you had also accepted it, so Din shook his head of the thought that he had said it wrong. He decided to give you another day to think about accepting his apology.
***********
A day turned into two, then three, next things Din knew, three weeks had passed. It had been complete silence for three whole weeks. Din was dying inside. He barely ate or slept; he missed you, everything about you, even things that seemed stupid. He missed the way your hair smelled, he missed the warmth of your body as he slept next to you, he missed your smile. Din has never been before addicted to something, but he will bet this is what it feels like to go through withdrawal.
He craved you mentally and physically; he had started waking up this past week on the verge of a nut. He always had the same dream to, he would apologize and you would accept. Then he would worship your body like never before, discovering new things about you, what turns you on and how flexible you really are. Each and every time right before he would nut, right when you give him permission to cum inside, he wakes up, every time like clockwork. 
*************
It was around lunchtime, and Din sat in the kitchen debating his next move. He needed you. He missed the way you guys used to be as a clan; just him and the kid alone wasn’t the same. He looked up and saw you putting the kid in a high chair and turning to the fridge, taking stuff out to make sandwiches. He laid back, watching you move around the kitchen. You had one of his shirts on with some shorts that you couldn’t see unless you reached up to get something that made your shirt rise. 
He watched as you bent over getting something out of the fridge, his dick twitched in his pants. He had been so deprived of you that anything you did got him hard; he grunted as he started to palm himself over his pants.
You had heard Din behind you, you smiled to yourself, you knew he was dying inside, you’d heard it every morning when he was rubbing one out. You honestly had stopped being mad like a week and a half ago. You just wanted to see how long Din could stay away from you; you really wanted to see how long till you had Din Djarin on his knees. 
You finished cooking and made some food for the kid and you, but instead of going up to the cockpit like you usually do, you ate in the kitchen. You decided to stand up to eat, leaning over the counter, back facing Din. You moaned with every bite you took, doing a little happy dance.
You had unknowingly confirmed to Din that you were no longer upset and were playing. He had suspected it but wasn’t sure; you would do things like get changed with the door open or take a shower with the door open. He saw those things and thought that you were ready to talk, but when he tried, you walked away. He had assumed that you weren’t ready and wasn’t doing those things on purpose. He knew now, though, that you were playing some type of game, a game he was about to end. 
You had finished eating and looked up to find the kid sleep in his chair. You took the kid and put him in his room so he could sleep in peace. You came back to the kitchen to clean up; you felt Din’s eyes on you everywhere you went. You walked over to the crates to put some things from the kitchen up, passing Din as you went. You had felt him before you saw him, his back pressed up against you. You could feel the heat radiating off his clothed body as he pressed up against you. You leaned in for a second before realizing what you were doing. You turned around, trying to leave, but Din stood in your way. You had no other choice but to look up at him and go along with whatever he was trying to do.
“What do you want, Din,” you asked 
“I was going to say I was sorry.”
“Well, apology not accepted,” you said quickly, cutting him off before he said another word.
“See cyar’ika keyword, was, “he replied looking at you with his brown eyes
“So what do you want now, Din,” you asked as you walked backward, eventually running out of space as your back hit the wall. You swallowed the lump in your throat and asked him again what he wanted.
He didn’t reply; instead, he reached up and took a finger drawing it from your collar bone to your chest; you shivered as he stared circling your covered nipple before pinching it.
“You,” he said 
 “What”
 “You had asked me what I wanted now, and my answer is you,” he replied.
You were about to question it when he brought his finger up to your lips to quiet you before bringing his hand down and up your shirt to play with your breast. He made a low groan in his throat when he realized that you weren’t wearing your band wrap.
“At first, I was mad that you had put yourself in danger. Then I was a little sad when you started dodging me; it really hurt when you didn’t respond to my apology,” he chuckled. You could hear the smirk in his voice. He lifted up your shirt up over your head. He placed his hands back on your breast and then pinched one of your nipples, making your head fall back as you moaned out loud. 
“Then you started playing games with me, messing my head all up. To blame you for playing this game would be wrong of me,” he said as he left you boobs, and his hand traveled up to wrap around your throat. Your body leaned into his touch, your hand reaching out to wrap around his wrist that was at your throat. 
His hand squeezed your throat tighter at your silent request as he pushed you back, bringing his head down to bite along your collars before mumbling against your skin, “I realized that it’s not your fault, I should have taught you better, and I will” he said and then quickly pulled away and grabbed a chair to sit down.
“What,” you asked, eyes popping out head. You were confused, but it was too late; Din had already pulled you over his lap. He had pulled down your shorts; he was excited to see that you were wearing a thong, so he left your underwear in place.
“Din, what are you doing?” you questioned as you shifted around on his lap, trying to get a better look at him.
“If you’re going to act like a little brat, then I’m going to treat you like a little brat,” he said as he processed to take his gloves off. 
“I will give you an equal amount of slaps on each cheek, and you will count each one out, ok, and safe word is cake, ok, “He asked as he messaged each cheek.
You shook your head as consent, “I need to hear a yes cyar’ika,” he said, giving you a little tap on your right cheek.
You yelped, surprised by the slight sting that followed that slap, and wondered how on Tatooine you were going to endure more, mainly because you and Din have never done something like this before. A slap or two while he hit it from behind, was the closest thing that had ever happened.
“Yes,” you were excited, you’d never seen this side of Din; you might even start messing with Din more often. 
Din was smiling; he always loved to try new things with you. He continued to run over each cheek for a few more seconds before he raised his hand and landed the first smack on your right cheek. 
“One” You choked out as he rubbed the cheek he just slapped. 
It was hard, and it stung, but there was something about it that turned you on. 
Din lifted up his hand before smack the left cheek “two,” you tried to suppress your moan. You were kinda embraced at the fact you were getting turned on from this.
When Dins hand landed on your right cheek again for the second time, you moaned loudly as you said the number three. Din smiled at that; he was happy you were enjoying this new thing. Din continued to tear your ass up, each slap hurting more than the last. You were getting wetter with each one to the point where your wetness started to drip down your leg, your underwear no longer keeping it in as it was soaked.
You were preparing to feel a sting on your left cheek for the last slap. Instead, Din pushed you off his lap and set you onto the floor. You laid there confused as he spread your legs open and took your thong off. He got on the side of you and leaned down to kiss you. Your lips captured his in a passionate kiss. You were distracted as Din slipped his tongue into your mouth, so you didn’t see it coming. He had raised his hand and slapped your pussy. You throw your head back as you moan, tears streaming down your face from the intensity of the sudden, overwhelming rush of pleasure. 
You shot up before going back down as you raised your hip as he started to rub circles on your clit. He reached down, placing kisses along your neck up and down your neck to your collarbone and back up. He took your ear lobe and brought it into his mouth, pulling on it before letting it go.
These slow circles on your clit were killing you, “Please,” you whimpered as you reached down, placing your hand on top of him, encouraging him to go faster. 
He slapped your hand aways, stopping because of you. He rubbed his nose up and down on your ear before asking. 
“are you going to be a good girl for me?”
You shook your head up and down, unable to speak as he started playing with your clit again. You didn’t realize that this game you were playing had affected you too till now. You were so desperate; you would do anything he asked just so you could cum on him because of him.
 He took his hand away from cunt and brought it up to your lips. You looked Din in the eyes as you took two of his fingers into his mouth and sucked on them. You closed your eyes as you moaned, tasting yourself on his fingers. You weaved your tongue around his fingers before you hollow your cheeks, making a popping sound when he pulled them out.
He ran his finger down your body before shoving two fingers inside of you. You moved your hips down to meet the thrust of his hand. Your legs threaten to close as the pleasure builds, nonsense mumbling falling from your lips.
“More,” you begged 
“Faster,” you cried as he gave in to both of your demands. 
Suddenly he stopped, and your whines of complaint soon turned into a moan as he pressed his tongue against your clit. He shifted so he could wrap his hands around your thighs as he dove in. It was still the best thing he has ever tasted, he thought to himself. Your back arches as he bites softly on your clit before he sucks on it, and he pushes two fingers into you. You reached down your finger through Din’s hair, causing him to moan into you to moan as you clench around him. Din loves feeling the way your body reacts to him, the way you gripped his fingers, his tongue, his dick. 
You were close. You can feel it, and so could Din, so he quickened his pace. 
“I’m- I’m. “You tried to speak be couldn’t 
“I know,” he said, moving his thumb to circle your clit
You were so close, you could feel it in your stomach. You were about to cum when Din pulled his fingers out and started to lick them clean. 
You let a puff of air out as you lose your high. You prop yourself on your elbows as you looked at him, throwing your hands up asking why.
“I just wanted you to see how it feels to work so hard for something only to have it taken from you at the last minute.” He said, standing up but never breaking eye contact with you. You choked on your spit when you realized what he was referring to. 
You tried to stand up, but he placed a hand on your shoulder, pushing you back down into your knees. You cocked your head to the side, and he just reached down and took your hand, placing it on top of his pants.
You looked up at him licking your lips before unbuttoning his pants and pulling down his zipper; you pushed his pants down along with his boxers down. You spit into your hand before wrapping your hand around his dick as much as you could. You stroked him before sticking your tongue out and licking the tip, then running your tongue up and down his shaft. 
He grabbed you by your hair, yanking you back to look up at him. “Don’t play with me,” he said before taking his hand and wrapping it around your jaw to keep it open as he spits in it. 
He let you go, and you stroked him a few times before taking him into your mouth. You moaned around him at the taste of him; this caused Din to lose his balance for a second, making him grab onto a crate to balance himself. 
You swirled your tongue around his head before going back and forth, taking more of him in each time, you pulled back off of him, but strings of spit still connecting you to him. You purse your lips as you spit into your hand, reaching down to massage his balls before taking him back into your mouth, making sure to lick the pre-cum as you did. 
He reached behind your head to grab your hair as he thrust into your mouth, you gag on his dick, but he keeps going knowing that you will tap against his leg if it gets to be too much. Din grabbed on to your head with both hands as he continued to fuck your face; you could feel him inching down your throat with each thrust. He was about to nut; you could feel it as his balls started to tighten. He griped your hair tighter, signaling for you to look at him. “Where,” he asked, slowing down so you could choose.
He let go of your hair as you pulled back, sticking your tongue out. He smiled down out at you before taping his tip against your tongue a few times as he started to stroke his dick. He quickens his paces and grabs onto your head, pulling it tight, so he won’t miss his target. Din grunted as if he was in pain as he painted your face with white streaks. He rubs his dick smearing the last bit on your tongue. You swallowed the bit in your mouth before feeling around your face the rest and swooping it into your mouth. You licked your lips, smiling up at him when you were all done.
He bent down and swiped his thumb across your cheek, getting the little you had left behind into your mouth. You sucked on it for a second before he pulled it out. He grabbed onto your hand, helping you up as his hands cradled your face, and he pressed his lips to yours; he moaned into your mouth at the taste of him. He reaches down to grab your ass before smacking up light and kneading it as you wrap your arms around his neck.
He pulls back, breaking the kiss as he taps your side, signaling for you to jump up so he could carry you. You jump into his arms, and he takes you into the room you shared and lay you against the cot. You lay there waiting for him as he finishes getting undressed.
He got onto the cot and got between your legs; he stroked himself a few times before lining it up with you. He looked up to meet your eyes looking for consent, and you nodded your head, giving it to him. He slowly pushed into you feeling your walls stretch around him before tightening. Your head falls back as your eyes rolled into the back of your head. You grab onto the sheets, bunching them into your hands as you feel yourself being starched to your limit. You take your legs and wrap them around Din’s waist. You cross your ankles as you try to push him into you to make him go faster.  He stops suddenly, he’s not even all the way in, and he stops. You’re starting to regret trying to make him go faster, you can’t see much, but you can see him smiling. You know that smile, nothing good is about to come out of that smile. 
Din pulls all the way out before slamming back into you completely. You didn’t even make a sound because the air is knocked out of you; your back arches as you try to catch your breath. As soon as you caught your breath, he steals it as he leans down for a kiss capturing your lips roughly.
As he continuously pounds into you ruthfully, he takes one of your legs wrapped around his waist and pushes it to your chest to get a better angle to go deeper. You cry out with every thrust, your voice bouncing off the walls, echoing in the room. 
“Mine, This body, theses tits, this tight as pussy, it’s all mine,” he told you as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth. 
“It’s yours; every part of me is yours,” you agreed as you wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him in closers. 
You were close, especially after being denied earlier; you need release. Din quicken his paces as he felt you clench tightly around him.
“I-I-I’m close,” you screamed out. 
“Cum for me, riduur,” he whispers in your ear.
The name he calls you pushes you over the edge; you clamp down on his dick as you cum. That doesn’t slow him down as he continues for a few strokes riding out you high before pulling out, flipping you onto your stomach, and pushing back into you without warning or rest. You back arch into his thrust as he makes your legs go apart, spreading you wider. He pops onto one knee, driving into you mercilessly as he reaches down to press your face into the mat. 
As he’s thrusting into you, you feel one of his fingers circle around your unstretched hole; you guys had been saving that experience, maybe for this moment. “Can I please? I’ll only put a finger in,” he begged you you nodding your head under his hand. He acknowledges the movement as he pulls out, reaching down swooping up some of your wetness before plunging back into you. He teases the hole before slowly pushing his thumb in, causing you to arch your back even more and let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “ f-f-fuck, Din” you stutter out when he got fully in.
Din quickens his pace in you as he sets a steady pace with his thumb. This was new to you, so being stretched like this, you were close to began for more; you wanted to know how it would feel to be pushed to your limit in both holes. You decided against it as you feel Din reach under you to toy with your clit, you chocked on your spit as you tried to catch your breath, all this pleasure was becoming too much for you to handle, you couldn’t even seem to catch your breath. 
The pressure builds up in your stomach once again as you feel your peak near. You let sob into the mattress as you feel yourself clench around Din like never before as you cum. Your back arching to the point of pain, which only adds to your pleasure. You feel Din slow down; at first, you are confused about what he’s doing, but then you realized he’s watching how well you take him. He’s looking at how your pussy quivers around him with every stroke. He then speeds up for a second, loving the sound of skin slapping and the gushing sound your pussy makes as your wetness flows out of you staining your sheets. 
Din chuckles before pulling you up by your hair, pressing your back to his chest, as he starts to thrust into you. Your body naturally arching into him as he reaches up and cups your right breast, moving his other hand down as he rubs vicious circles on your clit. Your tried body slumping against him as he takes you from behind. He knows you’re tired even if the grip you have on his dick says; otherwise, he stills know. He leans down into your ear, telling you, “you have one more in you, I know do.”
You reach up to take his hand from your breast to wrap it around your throat; you gave his hand an extra squeeze encouraging him. You get that familiar feeling in your stomach as he continues to pound into you with one hand wrapped around your throat and the other one rubbing circles on your clit. You whimper as you try to tell Din you close, but your body is too tired to even conjure up the words. Din understood you though, he was close, not far behind you. He knew that the feeling of you coming around him would do him.
You throw your head back against Din’s shoulders as you felt yourself unravel on him. Din places a hand on the wall as he losing his balance the feeling of your tighten around him as you milk him dry, he continues to pump into you, riding out of yours. Din pulls out, turning you onto your back, laying you down before opening your legs and settling himself between them. He pulled back for a second because you had winced in pain, his dick had rubbed against your extremely sensitive mound; he pulled back, readjusting his self before laying back down. He played comfortably in your arms, his head in the crook of your neck as he rubbed circles in your side while you laid there with your arms wrapped him.
Din lifts his head up and leans down to capture your lips in a sloppy but passionate kiss that held a lot of emotion behind it. You pull away, and he pushes his head into the crook of your neck, and you reach up and run your fingers through his loose curly. 
“I’m sorry about everything I said, it was wrong, and I was out of line.” He said but face still in your shoulder 
“It’s ok. I should have been more careful when I went out; I didn’t even bring a blaster with me,” you replied as you continued to massage his scalp.
“What did you get from the market.”
“It’s a surprise.”
“I hate surprises. Do you not remember the droid.” He asked 
“Hey, at least we know it effective,” you said laughing, but Din wasn’t
“Too soon,” you asked, but you knew it wasn’t as you felt Din smile against your skin. You guys fell asleep just like, you holding him in your arms.
********
The next day went by so smoothly; you guys were back to the daily routine like nothing happened. Din was excited to get back to the meal sharing, he didn’t say it, but he didn’t have to. You guys had eaten breakfast together but had your lunches separate because you each had your own projects to do. Which is what you told Din, but you had actually needed the rest of the day to set up everything for his birthday dinner and make the cake.
You weren’t even sure if Din knew today was his birthday, but even if that’s true, it will make for a better surprise. 
Din was coming down soon; he just had to set new coordinates. You guys needed to come out of hyperspace to get gas before continuing on your journey to the next plant where the next bounty is at, which is two days away. 
During one of your trips to the market, you found a pretty little black dress; you were so excited to wear it for his birthday. You don’t even remember the last time you were in a dress, and you knew Din had never seen you with one, so it would be like icing on top of the cake. 
 You heard footsteps above you move, and you were quick to act as you turned around, lit the candles on the cake, and flipped the light switch. 
You heard Din slide down the step and walked towards you; your back was still turned to him, and it was dark, but something was illuminating your face; he just didn’t know what. He reached over to the wall next to him and flipped the light switch on. He turns and sees the kid in his high chair next to you.
“cyar’ika,” He asked, stepping closer to you.
 You then turn around slowly, not wanting to make the candles go out. As soon as Din sees your face, he gives you a small smile, but it drops when he sees what’s in your hand. You were nervous for a second, thinking that you had crossed a line or something. Then you saw a single tear roll down Din’s face; you had never seen the man cry. You had been with him for close to a year and never have seen this. 
You set the cake down and quickly went over to him, embracing him in a hug. He hugged you back so tightly as if he was going to lose you.
“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, ner Ridder,” he said, but you only recognized one of the words used.
You reached up and wiped his tears and took his hand and led him over to the cake, Din looked at you before bending down to give you a quick kiss, and he straight up, closing his eyes for a second before bending down and blowing out his candles. You clapped your hands in enjoyment and excitement and reached over to pull in your face for a quick kiss. You heard a slight noise, and you pulled back and turned to see the kid clapping also.
You laughed at that before reaching over and grabbing a knife so Din could cut his cake. Din happily took the knife from you as he cut himself a pretty big piece of cake; he took a fork and a huge bite. Din moaned as he took his first bite, slowly chewing on the chocolate fudge cake with chocolate frosting. His tongue dashes out to lick up any residue that he might have left on his lips.
“I might have to change my mind. This might be the best thing I have ever tasted,” Din said, bringing down the fork for another bite.
You faked gasped, “what does that make me second.”
“You know what? I think I need a refresher, especially with you in that little black dress,” I said, licking his lip, and he wrapped an arm around your waist.
“Later, the kid and I are hungry; it’s time to eat,” you said as you shoved him off of you. 
He wrapped his arms around you from behind and kissed you on the neck before saying, “no, seriously, this is the best thing anyone could have given me. I have a question though, is this what you went out to get” he asked, you hummed in response. 
“As much as I love my gift, and I really do, please do risk your life over something like this. All I need is you and the kid, and I’m happy, ok.” He said 
“Ok”
Cyar’ika - darling
Ridder - wife/partner
Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum - I love you.
ner Ridder - my wife/ partner
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