I don't know who needs to hear this, but as a creator -
I am fine with "the audience" -
downloading my fics
printing my fics
copy/pasting or screenshotting my fics
sharing your saved copy of my fics with anyone else who might want them in the unlikely but never impossible case that my fics are no longer available on ao3
making a book of my fic(s) and running your fingers across the pages while lovingly whispering my precioussss
doing these things with anything I create for fandom, such as meta, headcanons, au nonsense like 'texts from the brodinsons,' etc
I am not fine with "the audience"
doing any of the above with the purpose/intent of plagiarizing my work or passing it off as their own in any capacity
feeding my work into ai for any reason whatsoever
Save the fandom things. Preserve the fandom things. Respect the fandom things.
Enjoy the fandom things.
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um blah blah blah something about knight!katsuki tearing through panicked crowds to find you slumped behind a knocked-over table, paling when he sees the growing red patch under the hand on your side.
"shit," is all he manages to force out, and it's all he can say for the next thirty seconds while he tries to figure out how to get you out of here. "no, no, no. you're not fine, dumbass," he snaps when you insist that you're fine. he registers a figure sprinting towards him with an axe and throws a dagger from his belt without even thinking, the assailant falling onto the dirt. "this is all your fault," he mutters as he pulls you from under the table and into a nearby alley.
"i can't believe you're blaming me for my own assassination attempt," you exhale shakily, your breathing too uneven for his liking. "all i wanted was to pick some flowers."
"we could have had the flowers brought to the palace," he argues, raking a nervous hand through his hair. "but you wanted to see them straight from the farmer's market."
"there's not much we can do now that i am bleeding out," you groan, fighting down the bile in your throat when you see how red your hand has become. katsuki's hand gently but firmly grips your wrist, forcing it out of your field of vision.
"don't look at it. just look at me," he commands, scarlet eyes revealing his panic. for the first time in your history together, katsuki looked scared. "just keep looking at me, okay? i'm gonna move you to a safehouse a few blocks away."
"no, please," you plead with him, grabbing his wrist before he can loop his arms under your legs. "it hurts when i move."
"the other option is for you to die, princess, and i'm not letting that happen," he swears. "i shouldn't have ever let this happen to you in the first place."
"it's not your fault," you whisper, your thumb smearing red across his cheekbone.
"isn't it, though?" the expression of pure grief on your knight's face disappears in an instant and, before you can protest, katsuki lifts you from the ground like you weighed nothing at all. you muffle a broken cry into your hand and squeeze your eyes tight against his chest, shaking from the white-hot arc of pain cutting your side. "just stay with me, princess. you're gonna be okay."
"it hurts, kats," you sob quietly and a part of him dies. "it hurts so much."
"i know it does, baby. just stay with me and the pain will go away soon."
katsuki isn't there when you wake up in the palace infirmary, but the news of the pub bloodbath where several members of the criminal underworld were being investigated reached you eventually. your knight was supposed to be leading the investigation, but dragon keeper kirishima revealed that, after the attack in the market, he had taken matters into his own hands.
he had a single thought as he inserted his dripping sword back into its sheath. long live the princess as long as he lived.
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