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highwaytothedangerzone502 · 2 months

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Foxtrot Alpha Alpha - Chapter 34

Pairing: Hangman x Female OC

Word Count: 2505

Warnings: Talk of suicide, swearing

Summary: Hangman learned his lesson a long time ago to never show his true feelings when someone's words or actions hurt him. To do so showed weakness that could be exploited, and Seresin men couldn't show weakness. Of course, there was an exception to every rule, and Jake's always came in the form of women, three in particular: his mom, Juliette Kazansky, and the girl whose name he could no longer bring himself to speak. She was the girl that got away; she was his biggest 'what if' and his biggest regret; she would forever be the ghost that haunted his dreams. Jake believed that's where she'd stay, for he would surely never see her again after what he did.

Or so he thought.

Notes: This is the sequel to India Lima Yankee; I'm using the same callsign for the Female OC as in Ghost Story because I just really like it, but they are different characters; chapters in italics are flashbacks.

Chapter Songs: Innocent Cry Pretty

****

Ghost

Rooster had been more than ready to follow Hangman and punch him for what he'd said to Ghost and Juliette; the latter barely stopped him, threatening him with staying over at her mother's house for the night if he followed through with his desire. Rooster reluctantly refrained from going after Hangman.

Ghost convinced the couple she would be okay, that she'd expected him to retaliate against her for what he'd revealed last night. What she hadn't expected was for him to bring up her videos. She'd been so careful not to show her face, to blur the background to hide any notable features of her room, to hide her dog tags under her shirt and out of sight. So what gave her away? The songs? The timing of the songs? The guitar? Surely, other people had similar blue guitars. And how could Hangman even recognize the one he gave her? It'd been so long ago.

Ghost twisted her ring anxiously on her finger, staring at the guitars on her wall, debating whether to post a new song as an apology or delete the account altogether. She leaned toward the latter.

A knock on her door brought Ghost out of her thoughts. She hurried to answer it, wishing Hangman would be there to try and work things out but knowing better than to hope for such a thing. Her life wasn't one of the romance novels she loved so much. Hers was more of a tragedy...

When she opened the door, Coyote greeted her. Ghost immediately inquired, "How is he?"

"Struggling, trying to shut me out. The usual when he's upset," he replied, stepping inside with a backpack. "How are you doing?"

"Had better days."

"I figured. Listen, I can't stay long. I just needed to bring something by. And for the record-" Coyote opened his backpack and dug around before taking out a battered box- "you didn't get this from me."

"What is it?" Ghost asked, removing the lid. A bunch of letters, neatly organized, rested inside. Each envelope had her name on it in familiar handwriting.

"Hangman planned on giving you these when he realized he couldn't voice his apology. He wouldn't answer me truthfully about why he never followed through, but I think he got scared about how you'd react. He told me he got rid of them, but I knew better. I still believe he should've given them to you. I'm not sure how much Hangman told you last night, but if there are any holes or questions, maybe these will answer them for you."

Ghost stared at Coyote, unsure whether she should read the letters. Hangman had kept them from her for a reason. Even if he had been scared to give them to her, if he hadn't been the one to deliver them to her, there had to be a reason. Hangman was mad enough at her already. Ghost hated to add to that anger by reading the letters without his consent. Still, she had a question. "Why letters?"

Coyote shrugged. "I don't really remember. Just that it had something to do with a movie. I should get going, but call me if you need anything."

"Thank you, Coyote. For checking on him."

"Of course. And really, I know you have Princess and Rooster, but I'm here for you too."

"Hangman feels he only has you. I can't take you away from him."

"I'm your friend too, Ghost. Don't forget that," he told her firmly. Smiling appreciatively, she hugged Coyote tightly, a gesture he willingly returned. Ghost missed his bear hugs. "I want you two to work this out."

"Me too. You have no idea."

Coyote kissed the top of her head. "I'll see you later, okay?"

Ghost bid him goodbye, waited for the door to shut, then turned to the box of letters. She grabbed the top one and stared at it, mulling over the pros and cons, the right and wrong, of opening it.

It's addressed to me. Hangman intended to give them to me. Reading one wouldn't hurt... would it? Throwing caution to the wind, Ghost grabbed the box and sat on her couch before opening the first letter. It was dated the day after the accident:

Ghost-

I'm not sure how to talk to you right now, so I'm resorting to these letters. It's easier to write what I'm feeling than to speak it. So much has happened in such a short amount of time, and all I can think about is seeing you die, seeing Ghoul die, and how I'm to blame for it. Saying sorry will never suffice or bring Ghoul back, but to the deepest parts of my soul, I am sorry. I am sorry for hurting you; I am sorry for taking Ghoul away from you and Coyote; and I am sorry that I haven't been able to see you again. I did try today, but the moment my foot stepped into sickbay, images of you dying- mixed in with those of Mom and Ghoul- stopped me. The three of you all died when I entered your rooms, and I couldn't risk it happening again. Logically, I know it's stupid. Logically, I understand they're simply horrific coincidences, but if there's even a chance that they're not mere 'coincidences,' then I can't see you until you're out of the hospital. That way, you can't die on me a second time because I can't lose you, too, Ghost.

I'll try to see you again tomorrow.

Forever and Always,

Texas

Ghost's hands trembled. She should've stopped reading them after the first one like she said she would, but curiosity got the better of her. Ghost pulled out the second letter:

I've decided to write you a letter a day like Noah did to Allie in The Notebook. I remember watching that movie for the first time with you, and the letter idea always stuck with me. Not sure why, but it looks like it's coming in handy. Maybe this could be our own Noah and Allie story, but rather than it being us falling back in love, it's us falling back into our friendship because God knows it's going to be different now. I tried to visit you again, but the same thing happened. I can't cross the threshold into sickbay. All I want to do is see you, but even if I could get the courage to do so, what could I say to you that would even begin to mend what I broke? If your pain is anything like what I see in Coyote... I can't bear the idea.

Forever and Always,

Texas

Ghost wiped away a tear, smiling at the reference to The Notebook. She had wondered where he got the letters idea from, and now she knew. It had been her favorite movie for so long before she finally watched Pride and Prejudice, but it still held a dear place in her heart.

Ghost moved on to the third letter:

Coyote said you requested to see me today. I told him I would with every intention to follow through, but like yesterday and the day before, I couldn't do it. The weakling I am, I let my fears get the better of me. If you ever end up reading these, please know that my lack of visits has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me. I can't bear to see you in pain, let alone pain caused by me, and I can't stop seeing the memory of you dying every time I even consider visiting you. You can call me cowardly for it, and you'd be right. One day, maybe I can overcome this, but that's not today, and I'm sorry. I wish I could be better for you.

Forever and always,

Texas

Ghost read through more and more letters. All were relatively short, usually repeating the same things, but she could sense the despair and hatred for himself in each one, the next letter always turning slightly darker, more depressed. She found the one about a quarter of the way through that made the tears finally cascade silently down her face:

Word got around about my apparent ability to kill people when I step into their hospital room. Bradshaw- damn him- joked about me being some sort of hangman. Well, now that name's stuck, and whether I like it or not, my callsign is no longer Texas but Hangman. Nothing like being reminded that you killed your two best friends every time someone says your name. If they only knew about my mom... It's a fitting punishment for me, though. I did kill you and Ghoul, and I know I'm pretending like I've moved on in everyone's eyes, including yours, but I'm not okay Ghost. I'm so far from it. The trial is about to start soon. Why it's taken them this long to get to it, I don't understand. The waiting is the worst, especially because I know I'll see you then, see and hear your pain... if I don't look at you, it's not because I'm uninterested. It's because I'm not strong enough to do it.

Forever and Always,

Hangman

A few weeks later, the letter became even more pained, more desperate:

It was so much worse than I imagined. Seeing you, I mean. Hearing you recount what happened reopened the wound I'd so carefully stitched together. Each word felt like a knife slicing open my skin, deep enough to hurt but not enough to kill, even though death would've been a less painful option. But you defended me. After everything I did that day, after everything I've done following it, you still defended me. It's given me the courage to finally talk to you. Once this is over, that is, since we're both witnesses and not meant to speak to each other until after the trial, but I will. I will finally talk to you, tell you why I haven't seen you, why I haven't been able to talk to you. I hope you understand. If not, I get it. I left you alone during a horrible time. If that ends up being the case, then know I love you, Ghost. I always have and always will, and if you ever decide to give me a second chance, I will be waiting for you.

Forever and Always,

Hangman

More weeks passed, and the letter said:

I'm not sure why I'm continuing to write these letters. Maybe a part of me thinks I'll get the nerve to send these to you and that you'll read them and magically forgive me for all the wrongs I've done to you. But I know those chances are slim to none. The look you gave me when I tried to approach you after the trial closed told me as such. I've seen you enraged, but not at me. Not until today. How you kept from throttling me in that moment, I'll never understand. I wish you would've, if not to put me out of my misery. It's getting worse each day, and I don't know how to pull myself out of it... and that scares me. I think I might need help, but if the Navy believes I'm mentally unfit, they'll pull me from flying, and that's the one thing keeping me sane right now. I don't know what to do, Ghost. All I do know is that I wish you were here.

Forever and Always,

Hangman

After that letter, Ghost had to take a break from reading them. How could she have been so blind to his pain? How could she not recognize that his response to her accident was a trauma response from his childhood? Sure, she'd been wrapped up in her own grief, but that badly?

It took an hour before she could bring herself to read more. One after the other, each one wrenching her heart and tugging on her heartstrings until it threatened to suffocate her. However, the last letter was her undoing.

It's been a year since everything went to shit. It's been a year since Ghoul died, a year since we stopped speaking, a year since the last time I felt any form of genuine happiness. It's been harder and harder each day since the accident to get out of bed, go to work, put on a smile, and pretend everything's okay, but I barely made it today. It was weird. I'd actually been doing okay once I got out of bed and got in the air. It was when I landed, and my phone decided to remind me of my memories of the day that it all went to shit. I stupidly opened the reminder and saw a selfie of you, me, Coyote, and Ghoul, our last picture together before I killed y'all. I skipped lunch, and I'm skipping dinner to write this letter because I'm tired. I'm tired of the guilt, I'm tired of being alone, and I'm tired of hating myself. I can't keep doing this. I can't stop thinking of how easy it'd be to go down to the hangar right now and jump into the black waves. I'd be dead before anyone noticed I was gone. I'm not sure what's stopping me right now. Maybe because Coyote is on board, and I don't want to hurt him more than I already have, but even then, he has friends outside of me here. He has Phoenix and Payback, to name a couple. Who do I have outside of him? These letters will never make it to you, so maybe that's why I feel I can say all this. If these letters truly were meant to get to you, I would never voice half of these things. You've been burdened enough because of my decisions and actions, and I wouldn't dare add my own personal issues to them. God forbid, however, that these letters do find their way to you, if there are two things I want you to take away from them, it's that, first and foremost, I love you. Unequivocally, unabashedly, wholeheartedly in love with you. Second, I'm sorry for all the pain I've caused. It was never my intention.

Yours, Forever and Always,

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin

Ghost set the letter down and buried her face into her hands, sobbing at the depths of Hangman's despair, that'd he'd been in so much pain without anyone to turn to that he trusted. As close to Coyote as he'd been, Hangman hadn't felt he could go to him for what he'd been enduring, and Ghost understood Coyote had been the only one left for Hangman. Ghoul had died, Ghost had ended their friendship, and that was it. No wonder Jake felt so alone. No wonder his mind had gone down such a dark rabbit hole.

Ghost wiped away her tears and turned her gaze to the wall of guitars. She'd toppled over the edge with a song. Maybe she could start mending their friendship back with one...

****

Tags: @lgg5989 @shanimallina87 @polikszena @summ3rlotus @icemansgirl1999 @supernaturaldawning @thedarkinmansfield @lyannaforpresident @lapilark @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth @simpofthecentury @shadeops21 @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @double-j @bradshawsandbridgetons @catsandgeekyandnerd @peachiicherries @multifandomcnova @fandomsstolemylife00 @bookloverhorses @mak-32 @midnightmagpiemama @luckyladycreator2 @ellamae021 @kmc1989 @atarmychick007 @rotating-obsessions

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If you're not on the tag list and want to be, just let me know :)

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sealeneee · 3 months

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@eorzeashan tagged me in this [checks notes] 4 months ago and i finally got to it. thank you for the tag <3

BOLD the FACTS

PERSONAL

♦ Financial: wealthy / moderate / poor / in poverty

as far as i know, jedi don't get paid. and unless we're talking AUs, Katona doesn't really have a job. as the alliance commander she probably has some funds, and even if she doesn't, she could always make money by taking some assassination contract or a bounty.

♦ Medical: fit / moderate/ sickly / disabled / disadvantaged / non-applicable

she is very fit! she also is disabled. i have not fully decided whether i will give her physical disability, but even if i don't, girl has adhd and that's still being disabled.

♦ Class or Caste: upper / middle / working / unsure / other

i genuinely have no idea.

♦ Education: qualified / unqualified / studying / other

again, unless we're talking AUs, she didn't exactly have time for any education except combat training.

♦ Criminal Record: yes, for major crimes / yes, for minor crimes / no / has committed crimes, but not caught yet / yes, but charges were dismissed

even if you don't count all the killing, she did blow up shit with Kaliyo. i'm pretty sure that's terrorism

FAMILY

♦ Children: had a child or children / has no children / wants children

♦ Relationship with Family: close with sibling(s) / not close with sibling(s) / has no siblings / sibling(s) is deceased

♦ Affiliation: orphaned / abandoned / adopted / disowned / raised by birth parent(s) / not applicable

the only known thing is that she was raised by the jedi order. when you ask some old master about how the current battlemaster ended up in the temple, they look away and say that they don't know. you can tell that they're lying, but there's no way to find out the truth.

TRAITS & TENDENCIES

♦ extroverted / introverted /in-between

♦ disorganized / organized / in-between

♦ close-minded / open-minded / in-between

♦ calm / anxious / in-between / highly contextual

♦ disagreeable / agreeable / in-between

unless you're her husband, the barsen'thor or one of the alliance advisors, she probably won't relent on whatever topic is being discussed.

♦ cautious / reckless / in-between / highly contextual

♦ patient / impatient / in-between

♦ outspoken / reserved / in-between / highly contextual

♦ leader / follower / in-between

a very reluctant one, but a leader nonetheless.

♦ empathetic / vicious bastard / in-between

♦ optimistic / pessimistic / in-between

♦ traditional / modern / in-between

♦ hard-working / lazy / in-between

incredibly hard-working when it comes to combat. quite lazy when it comes to most other things.

♦ cultured / uncultured / in-between / unknown

she points her finger at funny exhibitions in museums. barsen'thor scolds her.

♦ loyal / disloyal / in-between / unknown

the only reason for her to stay with the republic is all the friends she made who wouldn't follow her elsewhere. she's not very loyal to the officials or various orders, but she is incredibly loyal to the people she cares about.

♦ faithful / unfaithful / in-between / unknown

BELIEFS

♦ Faith: monotheist / polytheist / atheist / agnostic

♦ Belief in Ghosts or Spirits: yes / no / don’t know / don’t care / in a manner of speaking

i mean. force ghosts are literally a thing in canon. i guess you can "not believe" in them the same way people don't believe in, say, vaccines, but that's not Katona's case.

♦ Belief in an Afterlife: yes / no / don’t know / don’t care / in a manner of speaking

see above but for "being one with the force"

♦ Belief in Reincarnation: yes / no / don’t know / don’t care / in a manner of speaking

♦ Belief in Aliens: yes / no / don’t know / don’t care

do i need to say anything.

♦ Religious: orthodox / liberal / in between / not religious

♦ Philosophical: yes / no / highly contextual

SEXUALITY & ROMANCE

♦ Sexuality: heterosexual / homosexual / bisexual / asexual / pansexual

bisexual but demiromantic. in reality she was only ever interested in one (1) person and she still has no clue how it happened. this category is filled in with the "in a vacuum" criteria though.

♦ Sex: sex-repulsed / sex neutral / sex favorable/ naive and clueless

♦ Romance: romance repulsed / romance neutral / romance favorable / naive and clueless / romance suspicious

♦ Sexually: adventurous / experienced / naive / inexperienced / curious

♦ Potential Sexual Partners: male / female / agender / other / none / all

♦ Potential Romantic Partners: male / female / agender / other / none / all

ABILITIES

♦ Combat Skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor/ none

♦ Literacy Skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none

♦ Artistic Skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none

♦ Technical Skills: excellent/ good / moderate / poor / none

she wouldn't download a virus by accident but she would struggle using whatever the GFFA equivalent of microsoft excel is.

HABITS

♦ Drinking Alcohol: never / special occasions / rarely / sometimes / frequently / alcoholic /

♦ Smoking: tried it / trying to quit / quit / never / rarely / sometimes / frequently / chain-smoker

you'd smoke a pack a day with her job too.

♦ Recreational Drugs: tried some / never / special occasions / sometimes/ frequently / addict / former addict

♦ Medicinal Drugs: never / no longer needs medication / some medication needed / frequently / to excess

i am making her take adderall every day because she desperately needs it.

♦ Unhealthy Food: never / special occasions / rarely / sometimes / frequently / binge eater

♦ Splurge Spending: never / sometimes / frequently / shopaholic

♦ Gambling: never / rarely / sometimes / frequently / compulsive gamble

not tagging anyone specific, feel free to take part if you want to

#this is a lot of yapping i am sorry #oc: katona

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monstrouslyobsessed · 1 year

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still working on a thing and ima try and throw up another concept or hc later today tomorrow~now ima answer some asks < 3

tw: n'sfw subjects, kink talks, pregnancy(-related) mentions

What blogs and writers(ones that do dark romance stuff) do you recommend? —anonymous

i get this question a lot tbh, i should think about adding to faq, but uhhhhh, depends on what you're looking for. original or fandom? most of my mutuals, friends, and writers i liked/found write genshin, jojo, and other popular fandoms.

if original works only, i haven't found many, no, and tumblr ain't great with their rec feed (99% time they're fandom only).

@dear-yandere (she's not active, but i love her works sm) made a post you can look through! linky link

Favorite kinks to write in your opinion? —anonymous

uhm, i'm sure you can tell with most of my works lol but ig i can explain why i like a certain few. rest tho, i just like them lol

pregnancy / pregnancy sex / oviposition, im actually a touch tokophobic irl, but in writing, its not so much on for children (they're cute though) but because it's the near-total loss of control over one's body, if that makes sense. as its my thing to write the darling losing control to their possessive spouse, pregnancy is one of my go to.

monster dick(s), because we could use some variety in our d's lol human d's is good too though ofc

stomach bulge / cumflation, p similar to pregnancy in some ways, the darling loses the sense of losing their body to the other. (pseudo?) body destruction, really.

size differences, because i want to be picked up and be carried sometimes

yeah, most of the kinks i listed here had to do with the loss of control.

YES I CAN U BACK DEAR 💕💕💕💕 —anonymous

that was painful;; so glad to be back!! 💕

Yoo have you seen the movie called the descent? If you have, what do u think of the monsters!! —anonymous

uhmmmm, the name didn't ring a bell...google time!

oh waittttt, i vaguely remembered this one. this was based on dante's inferno, wasnt it? after checking the monsters, yes hi.

i prefer they'd bathe first though lol but i'd be down for them! pretty simplistic in design, reminded me of buffy the vampire slayer's vampires, actually! think buffy was one of the earliest monsters i can remember really liking as a wee lad.

So, have you read the Neonomicon? I saw it on one of your posts. I actually read the thing online and I immediately fell in love with the Deep One too despite the noncon. Is that weird? —anonymous

are you referring to the one i did where the darling had to watch the world burn in the palm of cthulhu?

thats the only one i can recall of ever doing, but on reading the neonomicon, no! you're talking about the comic series one? i don't generally read american comics because of how weird they organized their issues, but if its not long and good, then i'll be happy to check it out!

and nah, not weird at all imo. humans are drawn to things we simply don't understand, and as long as you are not harming yourself or anyone else, its fine to indulge. we all find appeals in certain things others don't and that's perfectly normal. most of the monsters i liked as a kid were actually violent and murderous so.....yeah. im literally one of the last people who should judge you , dear nonnie.

just know that youre far from being alone though! heck you'll find many n'sfw artworks and other contents of the deep ones and other monsters if you know where to look.

Dude I've been binging all your pyramid head works and I love them sm!! Would u be writing more for him in the future? —anonymous

mmmaybe? like i do have a couple of ideas, but nothing too concrete. one idea involved the reader being, well, the mother of monsters and the butcher would probably become more monstrous over time because of the silent hill related plot reasons. thing is, the reader wouldn't know there were changes at all, being too addicted to the butcher's to pay attention. I'm being very vague on this one because...idk how to communicate the story yet, if at all.

the other one might involve incest though, because of the monsters the reader birthed cooperating with the butcher, under the god's order. this one is just...a concept more than anything though because tentacles are fun.

otherwise, its just straight pron with the butcher. I'm glad you liked him tho! <3

now to work on things...inbox is always open tho~!

#ghosts are curious.👻#☠️not writing...#anonymous #asked #answered #☠️monster is whispering...#a momster's recommendation.🦇#long post

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margridarnauds · 4 months

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1. 6. and 12. please!

Thank you!

What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year? How did it turn out and would you do it again?

I touched on it a little here, but I feel like I really leant more into the surreal. Which kind of naturally works with my writing style and my influences and is definitely something I'm wanting to pursue. I was actually influenced a lot by what I've seen you do when it comes to fanfic, as well as by what I've seen the Chinese fandom, as a whole do, where you have these character studies where the style is deliberately rich and a little-bit offputting as a way of exploring the darker edges of a character or characters. While I don't think the horror of The Midnight Mass ever landed like I wanted it to, it marked a point of experimentation that I've never gotten to do, and I'm definitely interested in doing more things in that style.

6. What ship(s) captured your heart?

As far as NEW ships, Benvolio/Escalus from RetJ was definitely unexpected. I'm in and out of RetJ as a fandom -- I wouldn't say I'm actively involved, but I keep an eye on it, especially as a mod for the French musicals Tumblr, which made it even more unexpected. I feel like I could still do a lot more with them, even though I've put most of my plans on hold in favor of the TRUE darkhorse candidate, Raphael/Tav from Baldur's Gate 3. Which, on one hand, it isn't AS much of a darkhorse, since Raphael is ridiculously my type (I mean, my taste in fictional men is already rancid enough that a devil seemed like the natural conclusion), but was still unexpected because I truly came in expecting to romance Astarion. I have about 12k words of fic written across 4-5 WIPs, so it's safe to say that we're really only getting off the ground.

12. What fic was the most difficult to write? Did you finish it?

As I touched on in my other answer, this year was the sort of year where EVERY fic was difficult to write, because of the sheer number of responsibilities that I had tacked on. I had a massive test that would decide whether I stayed in my program (I passed), my first paper published, several back to back conference presentations, a month spent abroad in Ireland (my beloved) sharpening up my language skills, hosting and organizing events, teaching, and my participation in several different projects and organizations. It was a LOT, and it left very little time to be a human being in-between.

But...I would say that writing fanfic for BG3 and RetJ, in general, is very much a struggle for me. Because I know the 18th century relatively well, or at least well enough to conjure up an image of the 18th century. And if I don't know, I can do research. When I was doing work for an AFO fic (not published....yet), I could look up the memoirs of the people involved and take from them as much or as little as I wanted (since it was AFO, I opted for "as little").

But for the Toho RetJ, you're having to more or less create a dystopian society based on staging hints we get from the musical, and so I was constantly having to drop in details from hypotheticals. Like "What would the world look like in a century or two if a nuclear bomb went off tomorrow?" "How would we rebuild? What are some ways the world would be the same and what are some of the ways it would be different?" These are things that people are asking, but we really don't KNOW. And so in many ways, I'm having to build Post-Apocalypse Verona from the ground up while also trying to drop in cultural details -- this isn't American Post-Apocalypse Verona, this is *Italian* Post-Apocalypse Verona. Things like Venice sinking into the sea *have* to have some kind of impact on how people are sourcing food, for instance, or conducting trade. And since Escalus is The Prince™, I can't even wave some of it off, because these are things he is very intensely interested in and involved in.

BG3 is almost the reverse, where you are contending with forty years of lore, spread out across player handbooks, multiple series of novels, comics, trading cards, etc. etc. almost all of which some people care very, very intensely about while the rest homebrew it and toss it out. There's a lot of material that either isn't explored *at all* or is under-explained, but there's a LOT that's been explored in 40 years, and it's always a matter of seeing what I CAN bend or even break and what I can't. And, unfortunately, the two areas of the lore that I got most intensely attached to are (1) the Drow and (2) the Devils, aka two areas that have a lot of complex lore around them, so I'm reading multiple books from multiple editions to see what I can make stick. (On the record, I'm tossing out a solid 70-80% of the lore around Drow because it was very clearly written by nerd men who hate women.) My goal is always to try to bend the lore around the fic in a way that still honors the fact that people are fundamentally people and behave fundamentally like people.

For the Toho RetJ, I finished two fics for it -- I have snippets of more written, but I did finish the two fics I really wanted to make. For BG3...God knows when I'll have the lore wrangled enough for it.

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plothooksinc · 8 months

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fic writer meme: 2, 3, 9, 25?

2. Is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to?

Ahh, nope? Nope, not really. If my brain goes "but what is this idea" I then go and write that idea, so inasmuch as I think in terms of tropes (I don't, usually, I look at my writing after the fact and go "oh this contains tropes A B and C" but I've never sat down to go "Imma write a trope") if I have a desire to write it I've already written it. That being said, that doesn't mean there are tropes I haven't done that I will not do in the future! They'll just kind of happen organically at some point I guess.

3. Is there a trope you wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole?

Almost certainly! (Though I wonder if tropes is really the right word for the meme maker, honestly...) Um, I don't find any trope in itself awful gross and off limits, but I'd find more than a few either in my list of "I'm not interested in writing this" or "I am not capable of writing this", and anything even vaguely smut related goes into both categories. There are likely a whole bunch that are not smut related that I also wouldn't write, but I don't have the awareness to know what those might be off the top of my head. (this does not include romance, FYI, I'm quite happy to write that, but I generally only write very specific kinds of that, too, because I'm allergic to anything that gets syrupy).

9. Which fic has been the hardest to write?

Snowblind, without a doubt. "I've got a great idea! Let's take two people who hate each other and ditch them in the middle of the Japanese countryside in winter!" Did I know anything about Japanese countryside, winter, snow and blizzard survival? I'm Australian. Nope. Had I ever written chapters that were 99% description of bitter harsh conditions? Nope. Did I spend hours researching for nearly every paragraph I wrote of chapter 2? Yup. About the only thing I knew was that you could use animal grease to protect your extremities from the cold, and the rest was ferocious research the entire way through, lmao. (Me, a year ago: how...to...survive...an...avalanche...) That being said, Snowblind is also one I'm pretty proud of for the exact same reasons, I had to work for this one.

25. What do you look for in a beta?

Someone who has a good grasp of writing themselves and I know has very similar views to me on the source material. My first fic went un-betaed because I didn't know anyone in fanfiction land, until I hit about chapter 15-ish and developed enough of a rapport with one of my readers that we were talking offline and she agreed to help out. Legacy went unbeta-ed for the most part for the same reasons (new to TMNT fanfiction). I made an exception to the rule for Underdark because I'd gotten like.... 50 pages in before I started posting but I wasn't sure if the story worked, so I asked on LJ if anyone would be willing to help out and got two offers, so I took them both. Sometimes I need a beta before I have the courage to post, ahaha.

When I started writing NRFTW I knew exactly who to go to because we have incredibly similar opinions on TMNT and their characterisation and have known each other and RPed with each other for years, so I just popped on to discord out of the blue and said HEY PI and she said YES GIMME and so I have latched onto @shadowbends for all things TMNT related and she's an excellent writer no matter what she says (I still have a spray bottle, Pi) and has been invaluable on the way through. ♥ So. You know. Find a person you can work with as a partner and go for it.

Thank you for the questions!

Meme for Fic Writers here.

#@consultingjedi #fic meme

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roxy-morinaka · 9 months

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I don''t mean to intrude in your ask box but this is actually an interesting conversation and one that doesn't appear often so forgive me fo this super long ask.

Do you think it's a bad thing to have characters that are created to be love interests? I think its worse when you have characters who are popular and have a fanbase and then get reduced to playing second fiddle in a relationship.

A love interest that I'm thinking of that became beloved is Lois but she may be the exception. I think it works better when characters are created to be love interests because then they fit within that world and can be developed from there. Dick and Barbara are more of examples of heroes who have their own fanbases. If you are a Dick Grayson fan you can choose from a number of ships. Barbara Gordon fan? You only have one ship and if you don't like it too bad. In Pre-crisis she dated so many different civilian men but that all stopped and no writer has ever invested in trying to let her date again or if they did a little you knew it wouldn't last because you knew who she was going to go back to.

From 2016-2023 the Nightwing title and Batgirl title were about their romance. There were very few issues where they weren't together or thinking about each other. And its been reinvented over and over again. N52 Dick is older than her and written like a cool older guy. Rebirth they share their first kiss as kids together. Currently they were best friends with each other. Young Justice they were schoolmates. Okay, in the 90s if you shipped Dickbabs there was content for you, and if you didn't ship DickBabs you could easily find something to read that didn't have it and ignore it while still enjoying the characters. You could ship Dinahbabs, or TedBabs, or some rarepair because there was content and flirting between characters to do so. Returning Barbara to Oracle doesn't solve the problem that these two have been at the hip for several years now. You can make that writing better but still doesn't solve the problem. Barbara Gordon was not created to be a love interest. She should have love interests in the same way you can list all of Dick Grayson's. Or Tim's. Or Bruce's. Heck, even Jason Todd has a list and he has the closet gap out of the batfamily in creation to Barbara and he was created after. And this goes for all the Batgirls too.

Not everyone likes romance and that's okay, but it is a part of these heroes lives but it shouldn't be the only part. Comic writers have abandoned the civilians they are supposed to care about. The supporting cast and people they are supposed to help. It's all Batfamily this and Batfamily that. And that's another thing, Dick has soooooo much lore and history. He doesn't get hurt by any changes to his history he just keeps growing. Barbara Gordon almost got her own movie. She's a symbol and considered her own hero but she doesn't feel like it. She gets replaced on the Birds of Prey and didn't even star in the movie. They would never replace Dick on the Titans. Batgirl comic was bad? So was Nightwing's but that didn't get cancelled.

And look, people can ship what they want but there is such an unfairness that has been happening here and been happening for a very long time.

I have always thought the best way to write relationships in comics is with time and growth. You create a whole array of characters that can have non romantic roles in multiple stories and see where the chemistry and story lead you. The relationships feel more organic and the characters less two dimensional.

Then when the romantic relationships end they rarely rekindle and are not forced back together again and again because certain writers or editors shipped it when they read comics.

I hated that N52 thought they could reduce and cheapen backstory to refresh everything but then just tried to force the same familial and romantic relationships in a less interesting way. I am not sure for me that the comics ever really recovered.

While I am not a particular fan of Barbara Gordon I am very frustrated with the dilution of her character over the years to the point where she has been reduced to a love interest and member of the 'bat family'.

I think individual character titles should build thier own characters and only feature cameos from other established characters as a small part of a story. Not move them in as regulars and further reduce thier chances of having thier own runs.

#dick grayson #barbara gordon #nightwing

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screechthemighty · 1 year

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Okay! As joked about, here’s my...essay-thing about Romance-Default Chemistry Brain Worms Ruining Media (as referenced here). It's less an essay and more some barely organized thoughts, but that post did get some traction so here y'all go.

Now, you may notice I turned off reblogs on this post. That’s because I’ll be going into my opinions on a complex subject matter that also touches on some controversial(TM) areas of fandom, and I’m really not looking to get screamed at or doxxed by randoms. Seriously, I already had one hit post that got me anon hate, I’m not looking to make it two. This is between us, okay? Okay.

Additional disclaimer: I AM gonna throw some shade at specific ships and fandoms, but I assume you guys read my rules and know the ships I hate but decided to stick around anyway. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

So, What’s Chemistry?

For the sake of this TED Talk Essay Thing, I'm going to define chemistry as "when characters click in a way that makes their interactions especially compelling and interesting to experience." If you watch them interact and think "wow, I'd watch a show with nothing but them", that's chemistry. Note that this does not have to be romantic. Chemistry can come in all flavors: friendship, family, rivals or outright enemies, mentor-mentee (not always the same as family!), Not Romantic Or Platonic But A Secret Third Thing (drift compatible), and of course, romantic. People tend to focus on romantic chemistry as the prime example, but the other examples do exist (otherwise Found Family wouldn't be the trope it is).

Now, chemistry is a tricky thing. It's a combination of a lot of factors (writing, acting, direction to name a few), and if any of those factors don't work, the whole thing is off. (As an example, I personally did not think Deborah Ann Wohl and Charlie Cox had as good chemistry as Charlie Cox and Elodie Yung in Daredevil s2, and it kind of tanked the whole tension of "will Matt go for Karen or Elektra"). Chemistry is also open to interpretation. Some people might disagree with me about the previous Daredevil point, for instance, and some people might, say, interpret platonic chemistry as romantic chemistry. This is just a natural part of the subjective nature of art and in a vacuum, wouldn't be an issue. As mentioned in the original post, the issue becomes when every character interaction is viewed through a romantic lens.

But Wait, We’re Not Just Talking Any Kind of Romance!

Because guess what besties, even the major types of chemistry come with subtypes. I just wanted to clarify that, in this essay, when I talk about romance, I mean a played straight romance. Not a toxic romance or a tragic romance or anything like that. I mean the narrative wants you to believe these people are legit in love and could get married and have babies with little to no hiccups.

I bring this up because a common point of contention in fandom these days is the “well not every relationship has to be sunshine and rainbows! I find messed up romances compelling! Are you saying that there’s no place for explorations of toxic relationship in fiction?” And that’s not what this post is trying to say. I’m not the BIGGEST fan of toxic relationship stories myself, but they’re not my enemy at the moment. My enemy are the stories that try to sell me on happily ever after when the foundation is made of dry sand and swiss cheese. In fact, this is a point we’re going to talk about later, because people conflating the two is part of the bone I have to pick.

How Did This All Get Started

So 100% this isn’t something that has a singular root cause. It’s more like a slow buildup over centuries of storytelling. If I had to point fingers at one trope in particular, it’d definitely be the whole men and women can’t be friends and any relationship between them is just a prelude to romance of some kind. Someone in a reblog of the original post pointed this out before I could, but this has always been a thing and the only thing that changed is that fandom mutated the concept and made it gender-neutral. Now ANYONE’S interactions are just preludes to romance. Original content cemented the idea in our skulls, fandom just kept building the bricks. Circle of life or whatever.

So if this has been a widespread issue, why did I single out YA lit and fanfic? For YA, it’s for three reasons. One: YA is a huge genre even outside of its age range, and therefore extremely influential. Two: It’s what a lot of fandom content creators consume when they’re at their most prolific and before they get into creative fields themselves. Third (most important): YA lit is really bad about flattening all romances into Played Straight Romances. Granted, so are other genres (rom coms and the shitty “well yes they argue like they’re gonna kill each other but they’re in love, don’t you see” trend), but again, I really feel like YA has a stranglehold on modern content creators and fandom in a way that Meg Ryan movies don’t.

As for why I singled out fanfic, well, obviously, fandom creators consume fandom works, so they’re going to influence them and their outlook just as much as traditionally published original works. Also, fanfic has a MASSIVE influence on creative fields now. It’s terrifying to think about, but it’s true. Fanfics are on the regular published as novels (50 Shades, After, the sTeM-iNiSt books that started as R*ylo fic). A hugely popular YA series started its life as in-universe fanfiction in the author’s other novel (Carry On series). We’ve even hit a point where people are writing fictionalized versions of fandom drama and publishing it as YA books. It’s very surreal.

Effects on Fandom

The overall effect of this phenomenon on fandom is that it makes fandom spaces utterly intolerable. I vividly remember being afraid to get into Welcome to Night Vale because 90% of the fan content was about the Cecil/Carlos and I didn’t want to live through that again after too much time in the Supernatural fandom. Turns out, there’s more to WTNV than the ship! Who knew, right?? But if we want to talk specific examples, here’s four.

Muscles Out Any Conversation of Non-Romance Things: If you don’t ship Accepted Fandom Ship(s), good luck finding content. If you write or draw things that aren’t Accepted Fandom Ship(s), good luck getting traction. God help you if you write gen, because nobody’s reading that. (This is me being a lil salty I won’t lie, but that said, people who read my stuff I love youuuuuuuuuuu.) You want to talk about character interactions in a way that doesn’t relate to romance? Have fun, someone’s gonna derail the conversation. It’s intensely annoying.

Misrepresentation of Media to Outsiders: Okay, so, imagine if someone tried to sell the new Interview With The Vampire show to you based purely on the fact that it has two men in love and neglected to mention any of the rest of it because they themselves were solely fixated on LouStat as “omg so cute.”

Yeah. I bet you anything that if I did a blanket poll asking my followers if they’d ever had triggering media sold to them as something softer by Shipper Types, I’d get a lot of horror stories.

Unthinking Consumption of Weirdass Shit: This one is gonna be controversial so let me start by repeating a previous disclaimer: I am not saying every relationship has to be sunshine and rainbows all the time. I am also not saying that there’s ZERO place for certain subject matter in fiction, as long as it is handled with respect. I’m not calling for us to throw the metaphorical baby out with the bathwater. However, if you have Fandom Brain Worms so bad that you look at interactions between a teenager and a grownass adult, or God forbid, siblings, and think “oh they’re so cute they should kiss and be together forever!!” with zero consideration for what the actual ramifications of something like that would be? Stop. S t o p. Get some help.

Ship Wars + Other Dumb Bullshit Arguments: Basically, if every character interaction is viewed through a romantic lens, but a character has chemistry with multiple characters, people start getting weird and argumentative about it. This is more than just annoying, because ship wars can seriously turn into smokescreen for actually, legitimately harmful viewpoints and nastiness. Racism is a big one st*r w*rs fans I mean what.

Additionally, if you combine points two and three (misrepresenting fiction due to your own shipper goggles + unthinking consumption) you get utterly brain dead takes about how a work that is, say, meant to portray a toxic relationship and explore the ramifications of that is actually the most romantic thing ever. It’s exhausting to watch. And this mentality actually leads into some of the ways that Shipper Goggles ruin non-fandom works.

Effects on Fiction

Limits Interesting Stories: This is basically the same thing as “fandom is entirely about ships” except at the source level. If everyone can only view human interaction through a romantic lens, we’re losing the chance to see other types of stories. Now, fortunately, the market isn’t so one-note that we don’t have these kind of stories at ALL (bless the Found Family trope for its resilience fr), but I do still find it telling that a lot of the stories that take off on, say, BookTok are romances or have a heavy romance element.

Removes the Ability to Truly Explore Dark Subject Matter: This one is kind of related to point three in the fandom section, but if the shipper goggles are gonna only show you Played Straight Romantic Chemistry, then you can’t really say you’re actually exploring dark romance. You’re just writing the same plot with extra trauma added for zero reason. As an example: 50 Shades isn’t a genuine exploration of power dynamics and abuse. It’s a kinky romance that acts like the male lead’s flaws are equivalent to not putting the toilet seat down. It’s an easily solved problem and the power of love can fix him or whatever.

Limits Conflict + Interesting Subject Matter: Related to the above point but a different flavor. Also, this one actually has some overlap with how fandom interprets media, so consider this a “both sides of the coin” problem. If you see all chemistry as romantic, and a specific kind of romantic, that means any problems the leads face have to be easily overcome, not a big deal at all. This is BORING. This LIMITS CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT. This takes away from interesting questions and explorations of how, say, two fundamentally different people could end up together, or how a genuinely shitty person could come to grow and change given the right support and not just a singular moment of “oh I should stop being shitty.” It negates the drama and heartbreak of tragedies, the real world relatability of relationship where they’re not right for each other but stay together regardless, all the epic highs and lows of actual lived romances in favor of...what, he’s mean to her a lot but they still stay together forever? Is that all? Oh, he just dumps his toxic worldviews in thirty seconds and everything is cool now? Oh, he stopped being mean to HER and that’s somehow shorthand for him no longer being a fascist? (D*sney WILL answer for their crimes one day) BORING. YOU’RE ALL BORING. FOOLS! CHARLATANS! Anyways.

Authors Fighting For Their Lives Out Here: As with fanfic, good luck if you write gen fic (unless it’s found family, my beloved). Have fun watching your attempt at a nuanced take get dissected into the dollar store version. Also, I just know there are authors out there trying to write regular-ass siblings who have to live in mortal dread of what certain people might try to read into their works. This is seriously limiting for writers, because like. You don’t WANT those people as your fans. But you know if the siblings look at each other for longer than three seconds, someone’s gonna make it weird! And you can’t control that, but the thought is all-consuming! I seriously hate it here!!

How The Two End Up Devouring Each Other

So, all of this is bad, but the way that fandom and fiction intersect now only make things worse. For starters, fans and creators are more connected than ever, which can influence how things go. For example, say you're a a mid-tier CW show about monster hunting. Keeping those fans satiated is going to be priority #1. This means that fans talking about their wildest dreams for certain characters (say, two characters who honestly shouldn't be speaking anymore because SOMEONE won't go to therapy and is making it everyone's problem) are going to catch the attention of the highers-up. And those fans are going to be pandered to in order to keep viewership numbers high. And that’s going to lead to exactly the kind of writing issues I mentioned above.

Meanwhile, as mentioned, fanfic is becoming hugely influential on the fiction market. This is in no small part due to the fact that a lot of former fanfic writers are now non-fandom writers. That is NOT a bad thing on its own; where it BECOMES a bad thing is when they start bringing their bad fandom habits over with them. That just injects MORE of these mentalities into the fiction spaces. And then on top of that, the market starts replicating these already tainted works because they’re major money makers, and the curse only spreads.

Then fandom gets their hands on them. Then the tropes and shipper goggles mutate and solidify. Then that infects the fiction spaces. The snake eats its own tail.

Well That’s Depressing, Any Suggestions On How To Fix This?

Boosting works that aren’t the usual nonsense (fanfic and traditional fic) helps. Be more thoughtful with how you engage with media and how you discuss it, especially when sensitive topics are involved. Carve out spaces that aren’t so romance-centered and just vibe in there. Remember, the block button is free. Also, like, don’t be afraid to indulge in the occasional crack ship or “what if” AU where [insert bad guy here] isn’t as evil and therefore the ship works more smoothly, but just remember that it’s not canon. “Remember that it’s not canon” should be a rule on this site, honestly. I have to remind myself sometimes.

Anyways, if you’re reading this, I’m about to do the funniest thing ever and post some ship fic, so stick around for that I guess lmao.

#my writing #my meta #I'm gonna get murdered for this one probably

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mermaidsirennikita · 8 months

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ARC Review: Twisted Secrets by Katee Robert

3/5. Re-releases 9/26/2023.

Vibes: (light) mafia, hard-nosed single mom, enemies to lovers with actual stakes, and immediate action (in every sense).

Olivia has been burned, multiple times, by her mafia family. She's determined to keep her daughter as safe as possible. So despite her eagerness to indulge in a no-strings relationship with Cillian O'Malley, she knows she shouldn't. She shouldn't! She really shouldn't. But Cillian is deeper than he seems, and she can't quite resist their immediate connection...

I think Katee Robert is a talented writer, but she is a bit hit or miss for me. I'm starting to figure out what works for me with regards to work and what doesn't--this wasn't quite a hit. But I see why this series is popular, and if you're looking for something on the gentler side of mafia romances (I wouldn't personally call this dark romance based on the hero) this could really work for you.

Quick Takes:

--I do appreciate that Katee's books often jump right into the action, both in terms of the sex and in terms of the story. Cillian and Olivia don't waste any time dancing around each other. They're immediately about it, and they hook up quickly. It's a real "bang first, get feelings later" book, which is a device I'm vocal about loving.

As someone who isn't a huge fan of the single parent romance (and I can't say this book changed that, but Katee was very restrained on the kid factor, so good job there) I did like that Olivia didn't magically become a flawless person because she was a mom. She's young. She makes impulsive decisions. She has desires beyond her child. That child does come first, but being a mom isn't Olivia's only identity. She was a likable heroine, and I got her.

--Cillian is... sweet. Yes, he's connected, yes, he's dangerous I suppose, but emotionally he's sweet and concerned about things like consent and making Olivia feel safe and checking in and so on and so on and so on. I'm realizing... that isn't really what I'm looking for in mafia romances (to be clear, I'm pretty sure that the mafia families throughout this series are Irish and Russian, which--different vibes from mafia mafia, but very much organized crime). That's not on Katee. It's personal preference. I just like my mafia heroes to be kinda the worst. They soften for their heroines, but they aren't immediately as civilized as Cillian.

To be fair, Cillian is dealing with some pretty clear PTSD and survivor's guilt and general fallout from a traumatic event. I just think that by setting this story after that event happens, you're removed a bit from a lot of potential tension. This is a guy who perhaps was worse in the past, and now he's trying to be better, and that's lovely, but... it just didn't really work for me. If you want someone who is theoretically bad but doesn't actually feel bad, this is a hero for you. I just would've preferred him to be rougher around the edges.

--For me, I think Katee works best in a heightened world where she goes for it a bit more (like her Bargain with a Demon series, or perhaps the Wicked Villains series). This felt restrained, which is not what I want in a mafia book. Now, if you don't read or like mafia books generally, this may not feel restrained at all. But when I compare it to my favorite mafia romances, it kind of does.

The Sex Stuff:

There are a solid amount of sex scenes in this book, and they're good and varied and satisfying. It's Katee Robert--she can write a sex scene. Because I wasn't really connecting with Cillian as a hero, I think they didn't super hit in my case. But they were good!

This is another case of "not quite dark enough" mafia romance for me. However, as I've been stressing... this could totally work for SO many people, and this is a re-release of a popular novel. So it has! Try it out if you'd like to try this genre, with a less insane, less mean hero.

Thanks to Forever and Netgalley for providing me with a copy of this book. All thoughts and opinions are my own.

#romance novel blogging #arc reviews #book reviews #books #netgalley

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legobiwan · 2 years

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I'm a little confused. George Lucas is against Obi-Wan/Satine taking things further w/their romance. Is it because they're in love? Because he's also said Jedi aren't celibate & are against possessive love. Yes, George sees Obi-Wan as the ultimate Jedi but didn't he also plan on having a love triangle w/Anakin/Padme/Obi-Wan that's been described as a torrid affair?

Heh, I mean, this is a textbook Watson/Doylist perspective issue (a Watson/Doylist trolley problem, perhaps?), but let's take a crack at it.

The thing is (and I'm not quoting GL here, even if we do share the same birthday), Obi-wan - for better and for worse - adheres to the Jedi Code. Except when he doesn't. And then he does again even more rigidly (guilt, anyone?). And then he doesn't. And then he does..

Obes going full-bore with Satine would be a kind of commitment to leaving the Jedi that I don't think his character could really ever stomach, as much as he cared for her. And yeah, that means they probably slept together (more than once) and then Obes tried to throw it off as "nothing" or at least something he couldn't get attached to. I mean, yikes. One-night stand, yeah, sure, that happens. Their relationship? That's a real yikes. No wonder Satine sharpened her tongue when they met again on Mandalore.

I mean, narratively, if Obi-wan commits to Satine, he has to leave the Order. Whether or not Obes's ability to compartmentalize and be the "ultimate Jedi" is ultimately healthy is a whole other issue that I don't want to touch on here. (Because committing to a relationship isn't necessarily the definition of healthy and many people are cool on their own with no-strings-attached sex or no sex at all. But, from what we can gather from the source material, he was definitely in love with her. Speculation and fan writing notwithstanding).

And, of course, you have to figure Obes wouldn't be going full-on controlling boyfriend like Anakin did - he was able to let Satine go, obviously. Ultimate Jedi and all of that and also, good for him being in a situation where (for whatever reasons) it was obvious things weren't going to work out and letting the other person just be. It's a rare skill out there, let me tell you.

Then we come to this torrid love triangle with Obes, Anakin, and Padmé, which I'm not going to look up because I am a fraud and hack (to quote Robert Evans). Obes being the "ultimate Jedi" doesn't mean he can't make "ultimate mistakes." I mean, I don't buy that Obi-wan would have a torrid love affair with Padmé given his unbelievable devotion towards Anakin, but it's a hackneyed drama idea that I'm glad was cut. Now, Anakin believing Padmé was having a torrid affair with Obes? Yeah, that tracks 100%, as Anakin was not exactly the best boyfriend/husband in the galaxy. (That's a whole other post).

At the end of the day, the idea I think GL was trying to get across was that attempting to "possess" another person was bad and that you eventually just needed to let go. (And I may be bs'ing here, but I believe some of this stemmed from his own divorce, if I'm not mistaken. It's a much better road to take, for sure). And that possession often takes the form of romance because hormones and all kinds of other weird things like society hijack brains into thinking this is how it should be. (Don't get me started, I have rants for ages about this shit).

And let's be honest - GL was/is a great storyteller but not exactly consistent with the details of his narratives. And I think some of this has played into why the whole "non-attachment" policy has become so contentious in Star Wars circles. There's just too many ways to interpret it and use it as a convenient narrative device. And you know, in-universe, this kind of makes sense, too. Any organization as large as the Jedi (and as bureaucratic) is going to have policies that don't make 100% sense and don't fit all situations.

This is all not even getting into my personal thesis that Obi-wan himself was falling deeper into the Dark Side as the war went on, and thus I suppose (although not really, given what I've said above) that could forgive a "torrid" love triangle. Again, it's a little hard to fathom and best that it was nipped in the bud.

So...uh. Not sure if this actually answered any kind of question or is just me going off on a Friday night soap box, but *throws hands*...tada!

#hello there #ask legobiwan #oh boi im sure this will elicit some interesting responses #i have mixed feelings on the whole non-attachment policy and how it shaped the jedi as they came to be in rots #but it's complicated people and wholly intertwined with politics and other non-sexy topics #well if you divorce sex and love from power which gets into a whole other discussion that im not going to open here thank you very much

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rcksmith · 3 years

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Dream a little of me — Kaz Brekker

Resume: One bed and two hearts.

Requests :”Hello, darling! Could I request sleeping with kaz? Imagine or general headcanons, as you like. No nsfw (no need of touching tho, do what you like with it!), just sleeping in the same bed - maybe for the first time. Also bonus points if one of them will have a nightmare👀Have a good night/day, hun!🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️✨✨✨💗💗💗”

“My heart asks for all the angst of touch starved reader falling for Kaz Brekker... 😭😭😭 - 🐕‍🦺”

Couple: Kaz Brekker/ Grisha Fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing, mention of post-traumatic stress, angst, fluff.

Word count: 3k.

A/N: Thank you💖 I hope you guys like.

Normal Rules.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake. Requests are open. Love you❤️

— — — — —

The rain was pouring down in torrents, in a fierce storm that roared into the shadowy forest like a hideous, unearthly animal. Platinum lightning’s streaked the midnight sky and thunder rumbled like as giants footsteps crashing into the ground and shaking the earth. Everything had been orchestrated to work. But nothing could have gone more wrong.

Unfortunately, not even Kaz Brekker's millions of tricks and plans could defeat the force of nature. And even you, an Infernal Entherealki, hadn't mastered the art of controlling fire or keeping warm while under a torrent of icy, biting cold water.

Your teeth started chattering, your lips turned purple, and you wondered if you could run another inch. Your muscles felt like stones and for someone who had lived with the heat of the flames his whole life, being under freezing water was extremely painful. But Kaz wouldn't let you stop. And you, as excruciating as the pain was, didn't want to stop either. The pain was strong but the desire not to let him down was more.

The two of you part of the plan that night was to go through the forest with the diamonds in pockets and find the rest of the Crows on the other side. You two would have to spend the night in that place. But all of Brekker's machinations were washed away by the treacherous and atrocious rain.

The only alternative was to run. Run to the direction where there was a small civilization and pray to find an inn or not die of hypothermia.

The angry drops of icy water were enough to steal Kaz's breath. Not because the cold was unbearable, but because his own demons, his past, were ghosts that gripped his ankles like monsters from horror stories. He didn't feel the rain, didn't feel the biting wind, Kaz just felt the sensation of the freezing, oppressive ocean drowning him. And for a second, when he looked at the small strip of fur on he wrist that wasn't hidden by his glove and coat, he swore he saw Jordie's dead skin in place of his.

He had to get out of there. But when the storm started, and Kaz run his eyes at you, your face wet from the rain, your skin constantly whipped by the cold droplets, and your cheeks extremely red from the cold, it made him gasp in a very different way. Blood pooled in your cheeks. Pulsing. Alive. He had to get you out of there.

Finding hiding places was one of his specialties, and he focused his mind entirely on it. When an inn came into view, a small relief rumbled in both of you. And Kaz looked in your direction to make sure you were okay. Alive.

As the receptionist gave the key from the last spare room to the two of you, Kaz couldn't help but feel that there was no longer any heat pulsing in your body. That made him feel miserable.

The night was cold. Unusually cool for the time of year.

"I don't think it's a good idea to carry out a robbery like that in these climatic temperatures." Inej said, walking down the stairs after Kaz "One of the Dregs caught a serious cold too while you were away."

Kaz had to be away for two days to sort out some matters of his own. Check some ship ports and finding out the weaknesses of some new merchants. And as much as he ordered his thoughts to focus solely on that purpose, he found himself daydreaming at certain times about…

"It got very serious after a few hours." Inej completed.

Kaz felt a trickle of worry trace his veins, tighten his throat But it wasn't for some bruteman of his Dregs. His source of concern was more serious, deeper, and for someone he didn't want to think about too much. Even though he told himself to keep every nerve in his body under control, in the end he was Kaz Brekker, he couldn't help but notice he picked up his pace to get faster to the live room that was strictly reserved for the Crows.

And when he walked in, following by Inej, the tree branches hit the windows, blown by the wind, tinkling. The cold was oppressive and biting, but not enough to stop Jesper from playing cards with Wylan, nor enough for Nina not to eat her candy and listen to Matthias tell of his people's legends. But the eyes of Kaz, that treacherous and treacherous organ, ran to you first. Magnetically, inevitably.

And he felt like he could breathe again.

The sight of you sitting on the black velvet sofa, with a book in your hands and your legs stretched out on the padded stool in front of you, calmed Kaz's heartbeat as nothing had ever done.

As much as he denies, in those two days his mind has swarmed over you more often than he thought wise. Brekker liked to justify that action with the fact that you were part of the gang. As close and important as Jesper or Inej. It was normal for him to be worried about the Dregs.

But why did he only see you? Why did the questions about your well-being and comfort stood out so much from any other concerns with others?

It was you. Always late at night, when Brekker was a sigh away from sleep. You were what someone he was thinking.

"Who is alive always appears." Nina announced he arrival and Kaz was pulled out of his reverie.

"Did you kill anyone these two days?" Jesper placed a letter on the table and Inej sat beside Nina.

Kaz left his hat on one of the dark marble tables. “Does it matter?"

There were other seats available in the room. A leather armchair next to the burning fireplace - Brekker were sure that you was controlling the temperature - an extra chair around the table where Jesper and Wylan were play, and a small divan beside Matthias. But Kaz sat beside you on the couch.

You marked the page with your finger, lowering the book gently. He didn't need to see the cover to know what it was. It was a romance clichéd eighteenth-century. He had given it to you before he left.

"Everything worked?" You smiled and Kaz had the feeling that he wanted to memorize that smile in a painting to always appreciate it.

"And doesn't always do?"

Even with the biting cold that wasn't stopped by the fireplace, Brekker could feel the heat from your body emanating, like a delicious temptation. You were always so hot. Bathed in the sun's rays. He didn't know if infernal grisha like you gave off so much heat too, because it was impossible for that to be human. Were so intense...delicious. Even with multiple layers of clothing, if Kaz approached you he could feel the warmth of a tropical pirate island.

Was that why he always unconsciously sat beside you? Why did you radiate so much causticity that it made Kaz forget about the ocean's cold? Why were you like a piece of life and Kaz felt dead for a long time?

Or was it because, heat or not, you were the only thing worth being around?

All the questions were too disturbing. And Kaz Brekker didn't want to know the answer.

Now, even climbing the stairs to the room beside you, Kaz couldn't feel anything radiating from you body. Just the cold. And he hated it with every force of his being.

You're not made to take the rain, felling deadly cold, or turn your lips a bluish hue.You were not made to be cold as a corpse, with muscles stiff and sore like a dead. You were not made to look like Jordie. You were meant to be alive. To look alive. Exhale the heat of the most ardent fire and heat a room just with your presence. You were meant to scare off Kaz's winter with your summer.

For a second, Kaz wanted to hug you to give you the warmth of his own body.

You felt exhausted. The remnants of what you once day were. Every inch of your body protested, aching and tearing at muscles. The cold, sharp water did you no good. You didn't know if it was were something of your species or a trait unique to you. But it didn't do any good to you. You hated looking so miserable in that appearance, especially in front of the one man you always wanted to look beautiful to. But at that moment you were in too much pain to worry so much about it.

As soon as Kaz had put the key in the doorknob, his gloved fingers stiff from the cold, what you expected to find was a cozy room, promising a heat shower and a good, well-deserved night's sleep. But that wasn't it. You stared at the wide double bed with white sheets, perplexed. Shock competed with your pain and put your brain to work, and all your breath lurked in throat as your realized the situation.

Oh my fucking God.

You didn't have to look at Kaz to feel his entire body be rigid, in a way far more potent than the effects the rain had caused. As if the prospect of sleeping next to you was more whorse than dying of hypothermia.

You closed your expression. Half because your mood was already bad and half because the rejection was brutal. You didn't expect your passionate feelings for Kaz to be returned, nor did you expect him to feel the same longing to be close to you as you felt for him. But no woman wanted to see that a man would rather die of hypothermia than share a bed with her. Even more if he was a man she was in love with.

You entered in room first, the pain in your body clouding your thoughts.

"Do you mind if I shower first?"

Your voice was weak, and you didn't have the heart to look at Kaz. He hissed a “no” that hung in the air, and that was the last thing you heard before closing yourself in the bathroom.

His heart was beating eerily fast in his chest. As loud as the thunder outside and as unsettling as the chill of rain. His breath began to burn heavily in his throat, and suddenly his entire body was fully aware of the situation.

One bed.

Even when he took the diamonds out of his pocket and placed them on a small table, even when you came out of the bathroom and he walked in, even as he basked in the hot water, his heart still pounded wildly. Like a generator.

Kaz Brekker liked puzzles, challenges. Of things he could unravel and understand. Piece by piece. He played to win and to cheat, and the world knelt at his feet before the insight of his mind. Still, he didn't know what to do. You were like a fascinating and maddening riddle. The one thing that, no matter how hard Kaz tried, could never unravel yours mysteries. Or maybe, just, what he would never be able to do was unravel what he felling whenever he was by your side.

His heartbeat grew stronger.

Brekker remembered every deck of cards, every card played. He could keep up with the distribution of up to five decks, unlock any lock, and devise the most insane plans. But he couldn't stop the way his soul trembled whenever he laid eyes on you.

In those moments, when you looked at Kaz like he was someone much better than he actually was, Kaz wanted to be good. He wanted to be born again to become a damn decent man. For you. He wished he didn't have his demons and erase his past. Because that way, when the sun's rays hit your face and you were close enough for your scent of happiness to flood his senses, Kaz wouldn't back down. He would lean down and seal his lips in yours with the promise of a glorious future.

His heart beat faster.

Why did he feel that his whole life was always suspended whenever he were away from you? And why did he have the feeling his life could change forever if he walked out that door?

Kaz turned off the shower. The heart running like a horse. He fished out the towel and wrapped it around his waist, finding a small hamper that held neat, folded pajamas for guests. He was surprised he didn't notice you in those pajamas. You made him lose focus.

As soon as he dressed and walked out of the bathroom, his eyes immediately went to your figure. Sitting on the bed, your legs under the covers, your hands clasped together in a cupped shape with a small, flare of fire burning in the center.

You looked up at Kaz. “I managed to do something to warm you up.”

The phrase was: No for warm me up. No for warm us up. For warm you up.

Kaz lost his breath and his soul trembled. The air felt different since he stepped out of the shower, not just from the recent gust of heat. But there was something else, something lyrical, pink and lush. Something...beautiful. He did not say anything. First because he didn't trust his own words and second because he didn't know what to say. He sat beside you, a considerable distance away, but this time his fear was that you would hear the loud, racing beat of his heart.

You turned gently towards him, reaching out your hands towards him, not noticing how his hands trembled as they stretched under the hot flame. Kaz swallowed hard.

He knew how weak and drained you were, but he also knew you were aware that he loathed cold. Hated icy water. You didn't know the depth of his traumas, but the fact that you cared to the point that you were willing to use your last shred of strength to end his torment was something that reverberated in his soul.

You two didn't say anything else after that. After Kaz removed his hands from the flame, you understood that as the end of your two interactions. You two shared a mutual answer that neither would sleep on the floor. You two were adults and in no condition to be lashed by any colder.

The night moon bathed the dark room with lights in distilled silver, almost flickering through the windswept tree branches. You were back-to-back, blankets pulled up to your shoulders, breathing gently quickened. As exhausted as you two were, neither of you could sleep.

Suddenly, the whole atmosphere in room seemed to change. Like a private, enchanted piece of the world. The wind howled softly, on a calm note. The rain was still falling in torrents, but now it seemed to be adopted in a passionate tone. As if it had fulfilled its purpose and now hovered in the world with a romantic veil of water. Stars shining bright above the bedroom window, glittering like hundreds of tiny diamonds, accompanied by moonlight. Although the light was dim, it seemed to capture the lyrical essence, seem to whisper “Dream a little dream of me.”

Everything felt different, like the two of you had entered a rift in the world. A part inhabited romance, pure magic, love.

Your soul shivered, and as much as you could never prove it, you felt that Kaz's soul shivered too. Your breath hitched, burning in lungs, your body seized by a caustic tingle that snaked through every inch.

You didn't know why, but your body shifted gently on the bed, turning slightly towards the ceiling. The racing pulse in your veins. A second felt like an eternity. Kaz's body moved too, and you knew, just knew, that he was looking at the ceiling too.

Two hearts beating in the same time. Synchronized. And, by some magic or deity, you two knew that your heartbeat would never again beat another way. Always connected.

Your body moved a little more, now on belly up. And Kaz's seemed to do the same move, even without seeing you or your movements. His chest rising and falling with intensity. The rain calmed outside, turning the symphony of droplets hitting the roof into mysterious, passionate music. As if the world were plotting a whispering favor for you two.

Kaz could feel your body heat radiating once more, grazing his skin with rays of sunlight. Everything in that bedroom became poignant and intense and lyrical, inflicting sensations on him that Kaz never thought existed before. Later, it would be a shock for him to see that he was at the mercy of his own passions. Overcome by sensations that robbed him of control of his body. Later he would think about it. Later.

His soul tingled, sending gusts of heat from the inside out. The feeling was that, after 28 years of deep sleep, he had awakened. Awake. Alive.

His body moved once more, now completely on belly up. Kaz didn't have to look at you to know that you too had placed yourself in the same position. It was as if he felt the movements of your soul. His pulse was racing now, hot and boiling in his blood. And Kaz wondered if all the money in the world would bring half the sensations he was feeling right now.

What was he so afraid all this time? That question echoed through all the corridors of his soul. And Brekker feared for the answer. What kept him from having everything he craved?

Money? Pekka? Jordie's ghost and the cold ocean? Kaz feared never touching you any more than he feared his demons? Was that why he always walked away from you? Why was wanting to slide his fingers into your hot skin and not being able to fell you, be worse than any sensation he'd ever felt? Because, maybe, admitting it can change everything?

His breath hitched.

Would it be worse to be alone for the rest of his life? Doomed and cursing to a fate of revenge, death and red hate? Or, even worse for his heart, finding a girl with lovely eyes, sunny smiles and the smell of happiness? A girl that made him laugh, come out of his hiding. You. What do he will do with that? What if you open up the door that he can't close it? And If when you hold he and his heart is set in motion?

Would that be so bad? No.

His body became very aware of the approximation it was on to your. Your heat radiating into his. For some reason, Kaz was sure you was in the same condition as he was. Sharing the same feelings. The same passion hidden for so long.

Kaz should have thought of his brother, of revenge against Pekka Rollins, of the cold of the ocean. He should have weighed of his own traumas. Instead, he thought: What if I get a little closer?

The result of this was his fingertips brushing yours. And he knew the exact moment your heart sped up even more. Because his followed the same beat. Maybe following yours for the rest of his life.

You brought your eyes to him, calmly, as if that moment might disintegrate. and the world seemed suspended in that moment. Kaz slid his eyes to you as well, sharing sensations and emotions that didn't need to be put into words. It was all there, in the gaze.

His fingers crept higher, going to your hand, and plunging his touch - and his soul - into that contact. All your heat was too strong. Too intense. Doing Kaz wouldn't be able to think or feel, for the first few minutes, about anything but light, heat, summer and…happiness.

That's when you gave him a shaky, emotional smile. I would do anything for you. That's what that smile said. And Kaz answered, his hand tight with yours before letting go. Me too.

- -

As the sun's rays, shy and buttery, flooded the bedroom in soft color, Kaz's eyelids fluttered. The sound of birds reached his ears, and the scent of flowers and happiness invaded his nose.

It was nothing like waking up in Ketterdam.

That thought back him to reality. A reality in which he had stolen many diamonds, taken the rain and had to share the calm. A reality where Kaz Brekker touched you.

You.

Kaz opened his eyes immediately, his heart racing again. He looked frantically around the room, past the simple furniture, the closed bathroom door, the window where the light came in, and then looked to his side on the bed. That's when he realized what position he was in.

His soul heated up.

You had your back to him, your hair spread out on the white pillow, your back showing by your pajama top, your shoulder rising and falling softly with your resonant breathing. You were close. Very close. And Kaz finds, perplexed, that he is facing you. One arm rests around your waist, over the thick blankets, in an intimate and…romantic gesture.

He lost his breath. His warm, hope-shining soul whispered to him: what if it was like this every day? What if he woke up with you by his side forever? What if in time he learned to be a decent man? Trying to be normal?

Would Kaz do this for you?

You shifted in bed, turning onto his side, front for him, snuggling deeper under his touch and moving closer, as if Kaz were your oasis in the desert. No skin was actually touching, your breath hit his warm chest, and if Kaz lowered his lips even further, he could feel your lips on his.

Yes. He would.

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dabilove27 · 3 years

Text

How Far We've Come

Paring: Dabi x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Warnings: Angst, Character Death, Smut (female-receiving oral), A Cocky Dabi, Cussing, A lot of Pet Names

Word Count: 7.8K

A/N: This is my contribution to the Smut Pile Apocalypse Collab! If you have the time check out some of the other amazing pieces! Everyone has worked so hard to make some beautiful fics!

Thank you so much to my wife @lady-lunaaa for reading, encouraging, brainstorming, and helping me the whole way from start to finish. I have said it before but I will say it again. You are absolutely amazing and this fic wouldn't exist without you! 💜 Also thank you @/deathcab4daddy (not sure if you want to be tagged) for taking the time to read through and for your advice!

You've seen all those movies, the decaying zombie hoards, the massive explosions that wipe out nations, or an unexpected illness that mysteriously kills off the population. But you had never really expected for any of those apocalyptic things to become true in your own world. They were just fiction, never something that could actually occur. Yet here you are faced with the reality of a hoard of rotting zombies. Like you have been thrown into one of the many movies or TV shows yourself.

People aren't even sure how it happened, especially in a world full of quirks where this should be somewhat controlled, right? Wrong, whatever caused this zombie apocalypse also seemed to nullify quirks over time. There was so much speculation whether it came into the water supply or passed through the air. But none of that really seems to matter anymore when you are fighting for your life every day.

And as the mass of decaying, walking corpses steps closer and closer to you, it seems like your end is near too. The smell of organs exposed to the air and sun stink up the room. You can see the blank, milky white eyes of the undead that somehow can still find you even though they can't really see. You've had a partner, at least—the man who has stood with you during this entire shit show.

He stands close to you, a single rusted knife covered in stagnant blood, not nearly enough even combined with whatever you could find for fighting off the seemingly endless mindless bodies coming your way. He's covered in burn scars and rusted staples that pull at his healthy skin. People used to jab at him for looking like the walking dead before all this went down. His firepower from before would have solved this problem in an instant. This rotting mob wouldn't have stood a chance.

But instead, it looks like it's the conclusion for the two of you. Memories flash through your mind. A memory of escaping the daily struggle of your mundane life by sharing take-out on your old couch. Or how his kisses always felt like burning flames against your lips. Your regular life consisted of trying to numb the pain of the past with alcohol or working endless hours. Even though you didn’t have a traditional relationship where you could go on public dates, being in a relationship with a well-known villain was worlds better than this. But if you were going to die, at least it was together. Solidarity in times like this seems to help the never-ending dread that the Reaper looming around every corner ready to take you. Every moment in this new hell had you wished you had more time to develop your romance with him instead of the tragedy that was about to befall you. You wished you had more time with this romance and that it wouldn't end in tragedy. It's hard to believe that there was ever a time when you couldn't stand this man, but even now, that's a fond memory for you. You would give anything to return to that old bar where the two of you met and relive all of these memories.

It really isn't a surprise that you met Dabi in a dark, run-down bar near Kamino. No, not the "bar" run by Kurogiri; everyone who lived in this area knew that it was just a setup. This bar is a tiny little hole in the wall with paint chipping off the walls and where the seats were hardly held together anymore, but that didn't really matter to people who lived in this area. You didn't come to this bar for a luxury experience.

The main reason people came to this bar was its location. It sat deep in a seedy area which meant no police patrolling nearby so you wouldn’t need to look over your shoulder constantly. Plus, the cheap liquor was enticing enough.

Every Friday night, you were perched on one of the worn-out bar stools as you nursed your gin and tonic. This was your place to unwind after another hellish week of your mundane job. It was still early enough in the evening that the bar wasn't thoroughly packed with bodies trying to get their drink. The music was still soft, later it would blare whatever song was currently sitting at the top of the Billboard charts. You were able to turn your brain off and listen to other patrons' mindless chatter in the background. You could just sip your drink, maybe take a shot or two if you felt like, and then head home to pass out.

You relished this little getaway, an oasis in the slums that made up your small world. The bartender and regular patrons didn't bother you, so you could have your own peace. But your Eden got interrupted by a cocky, fire-wielding asshole who had set his sights on you.

You didn't stir when said asshole plopped himself down in the barstool next to you with a thump. It wasn't until the jerk actually spoke to you that you were brought out of your mindless daydreaming.

"Hey, pretty girl, what are you doing in a place like this?" He said with a smooth tone. You didn't even have to look at him to know he had an arrogant smirk plastered on his face.

Who the fuck does this asshole think he is? The irritated thought instantly pops into your head. Anyone who frequented this bar knew you were from around here. You weren't some soft, delicate flower that wasn't supposed to be "on this side of town." Preparing yourself by putting on your best "I'm not interested face," you maneuvered your body to face him, ready to tell him off.

Your words caught in your throat as your eyes met his two endless pools of cerulean. Your gaze shifted to take in the burnt skin clinging onto the shining staples that were rooted in his healthy skin. A familiar black coat spread across his frame that was even more recognizable than those eyes, and the patronizing smile that you wanted to slap off his face. As much as you wanted to throw up your middle finger at him and tell him off, you knew who this was. Hell, everyone knew who this was.

The League of Villains didn't necessarily keep quiet around here. They didn't have to. This is the area where they recruited people to join them. You didn't just flick off and ignore a LOV member. Especially the infamous Dabi, who wasn't really known for his kindness or compassion. More for his ability to burn anyone who defied The League to a crumbling crisp.

But still, who did this asshole think he is? Waltzing in here like he owned it and saddling down into your escape from the world only to tell you that you don't look like you should be here? Fuck that nonsense, League member or not.

You swallow down a bit of the initial anger as your eyes narrow into a glare at the cocky asshole. "Thanks but no thanks, I'm not interested in being involved with the League. So if you don't mind going somewhere else to scout, that would be great." You try to say without a tremble in your voice as you wave your hand in a "shoo" motion.

You aren't sure what you expect Dabi to do next., burn down the whole bar you included? Tell you that you have no choice but to join, and you're coming with him? Rip you out of your seat and reprimand you for disrespecting The League? But instead, none of those things happen. Instead, he does something you don't expect, and his grin grows a little wider as the staples begin to pull more at his healthy flesh.

You can feel your anxiety rising. Get out, get out, get out, this asshole will kill you, leave NOW, your mind is practically sending off every warning signal it can.

Your chest tightens when Dabi lets out a low chuckle. "Oh no, sweetheart, you've got it all wrong." He says with a dark tone. "I'm not recruiting you for work. My interest in you is personal." Dabi points at you and then at himself and finishes with an infuriating smirk that seems to be mocking you. He's moved his hand and placed it on your forearm that was resting on the smooth bar top.

A shiver runs through you as the mismatched textures of his skin and the cool metal of the staples. You feel your anger bubbling up again. How dare this jerk think that you will just fall for him like a desperate fangirl. You are livid at this point, frustration coursing through your veins, fuck the niceties and preservation. He needed to be put in his place.

"I know you think you are some big shot because The League is doing so well right now but fuck off asshole. I'm not a League groupie that will just kneel down and suck your dick just because you want it." You spit out at him while shrugging off his hand and moving your body to face the way you were initially sitting. Grasping your drink and lifting it to your lips, you try and down what was left so you could leave immediately, any extra moment around Dabi was a moment you didn't want to have.

You were sure Dabi would have given up or at least killed you by now. You can't imagine that he is used to being rejected by women. He's handsome in a way that doesn't fit with the norm. He fills in that bad boy check-list like it's his job, which it practically is given his profession. Again though, Dabi surprises you with his response. He doesn't yell, he doesn't use his quirk, and he doesn't kill you. He lets out another dark chuckle like he's enjoying this and continues the conversation you had tried to cut off.

"I didn't say anything about sucking dick, but if you're offering, who am I to turn down a gift?" That smooth tone is back as he moves his hand to your hair and runs it through his fingers.

Bewilderment overcomes you, and you can't even stop yourself before you are turned towards him again, glass in your hand, ready to throw what's left of your drink on him.

As if he anticipated the response, Dabi moves quickly and grabs your wrist in a tight grip. "Now, why would you want to waste what you have left, doll? That's not a very smart choice." His grip tightens a little more around your wrist, and you can feel the staples begin to dig into your skin as he lets out a deep chuckle. He moves your hand back down to the bar but doesn't let go even after your glass has left your hand. "There we go, good girl. Now let's talk just a bit." He says sweetly, loosening his grip just a bit, but not enough for you to move your hand.

If looks could kill, Dabi would have died a cruel death by now. You are seething at this point. But instead, you're stuck there as he continues to do whatever it is that he’s trying to accomplish. "What were you drinking? I'll buy you another one and then leave, okay doll?" He says playfully and with a cunning grin on his face as you mumble out your drink order. You just want him to leave, and you really hope he plans on keeping his word.

Dabi motions for the bartender's attention, gives your drink order and plops a few bills on the bartop. He still hasn't let go of your wrist, and each and every moment he is even touching you, you can feel your annoyance continuing to build. You want to ask him if he's done yet and will kindly get the fuck out, but you have a sneaking suspicion that he likes the cat and mouse game, which would just lengthen the amount of time he sticks around.

The bartender finally delivers your drink, and it takes everything in you not to rip your wrist out of his grasp and grab the new glass to pour over Dabi's head. "Okay, one last question, and then I'll leave." He drawls out as you put all your focus into the condensation forming on your glass. You stay silent, waiting for his stupid question so you can move on and never see him again. Dabi continues with that condesending tone that is starting to cause your head to ache, "How often do you come here? I'd love to see you again."

Your heartbeat picks up, and little shots of adrenaline start to flow through you as you contemplate how to respond. Of course, you don't want this asshole to know when you come here. This is your escape from the world. You never want to even see Dabi again, but something from this interaction tells you Dabi isn't going to give up easily. So you tell him your regular time that you show up at the bar every Friday.

Dabi squeezes your wrist a little bit before letting out another "Good girl, sounds like a date. I'll see you then." You never want him to know how those few words send a shiver down your spine. He saunters out of the bar without having a single drink himself. Patrons stare dumbfounded between you and the doorway that Dabi just exited, trying to comprehend what just happened.

You let out an exasperated sigh before leaning your head down into your folded arms. The bar top isn't necessarily the cleanest of places to lay your head, but it’s pounding and racing with thoughts, and you can't really bring yourself to care right now. You try to formulate a plan so you won't ever see him. You'll just move your regular day to Saturday instead of Fridays. But then that stubborn anger flares inside of you again, and you sit up straight, glancing at your newly unwanted drink as the ice slowly melts, lifting the remaining liquid in the cup. No, I'm not going to let that asshole ruin my spot for me. He can come around here every Friday, but I'll turn that jerk down a million times. You think a little smugly to yourself. We will see how the big bad Dabi feels being turned down over and over. Maybe that will sting his ego.

And so you and Dabi play this game of cat and mouse. He comes every Friday when you are there without fail, buying you a drink, chatting to you with sentences filled with pet names, and planning another "date" each time. And every time you tell him you aren't interested or to go away, or really anything to try and get that stupid fucking smirk off his face. But it always remains cemented there as he watches you get fired up. And what you don't realize is the two of you are getting to know each other. Dabi adds in little questions, "what's your favorite food, least favorite, what do you do for work?" And the questions go on and on. You don't realize your walls coming down as the two of you find similarities in each other. And if there is one thing anyone who sees these frequent interactions between the two of you can say, it is that Dabi is determined.

You are so used to Dabi's Friday visits that they don't bring headaches anymore, and you realize something more has developed when he doesn't show up one week. A mixture of feelings rests in you, anxiety, confusion, anger. You wonder if he's okay, or has he finally given up. And then anger if he has. You don't want to admit it, but you miss his company, and you don't even have a number to reach out to him. You feel a sense of loss in your chest. How could he just give up? He's been trying for months! You think as tears begin to sting for a moment in your eyes.

You leave the bar that night not feeling uplifted or relaxed but sad and angry. And you aren't necessarily looking forward to returning the week after, but you do come back to your regular spot and hope Dabi will show. Your heart almost stops in your chest when you see him walk through the entrance of the bar, and before you can contain the words, they tumble out in a frantic sound, "where were you last week?" You are standing in front of him now, looking up at that little grin he always has on his face whenever you get annoyed with him. You cross your arms over your chest and exclaim, "Well? I'm waiting."

"Aw, did you miss me, baby girl?" His poker face never falls, but his grin grows a tiny bit wider as he stares into your fiery eyes. And without warning, he wraps one of his long arms around you, pulling you into a tight side hug.

A small eep escapes you at the movement, and you move to push him off. "What the hell are you doing? Answer my question, you jerk!" You practically yell as you push away from him. He doesn't let go and just pulls you tighter to him, and you find yourself not struggling anymore as you take in the weathered texture of his coat pressed against your arm and the smell of cigarettes on him. You feel your walls starting to fall entirely, "I was really concerned about you." You let out in a whisper, not really wanting to admit it to him, but you weren't sure how you would feel if something like this happened again.

"Aw, babe, you did miss me." The delight in his voice makes you shiver a little. He gestures you over to your regular spot at the bar, and the two of you sit down in the weathered chairs. He puts a calloused finger under your chin to bring your gaze to his. You stare into his cerulean depths that you used to hate and find yourself softening a bit. "I had to do something for The League, but I don't have your number, love. So I couldn't call and let you know I wouldn't make our date." His face relaxes a bit as he watches your frown turn into a bit of pout.

"Okay, well fine, I'll give you my number. But don't just text me randomly, okay?" You huff as you lay your palm flat and motion for his phone. Dabi chuckles and shakes his head before handing you the phone without another word. Lifting the phone, you type your number into the cracked screen and hand it back to him. "Okay, now text me, so I have yours. " You say, moving to grab your phone to wait for his upcoming text.

"Hmmm, I don't think so, doll," Dabi says, taking in your furrowed brow and then relishing in the way you roll your eyes at his taunting.

"Fine, whatever, Dabi. Just text me next time you can't make it." You say sourly while searching for the bartender to order your drink. You don't want Dabi to see the slight sting of hurt in your eyes because he won't give you his. The rest of the night goes as expected, drinking and talking, and you find yourself laughing more, not realizing how much you truly enjoyed this time with him.

The two of you depart with another hug, this one much shorter than the first, but you find yourself leaning into the warmth that radiates from him instead of wanting to push him off. As you begin walking down the street home, you feel a buzz in your pocket. Pulling out your phone, you unlock it to the message from an unknown number.

Unknown Number: Hey babe, see you same time next week - D

A small smile comes to your face as you type a response back.

The following year you grow in your relationship with Dabi. There are never really any titles between the two of you. Just that the two of you are together. You never meet The League. Dabi is insistent you aren't involved with them in case things go awry. But you spend a lot of time together when work or villain work doesn't take up the time.

Your relationship together comes to a head at the very start of the apocalypse. The two of you sit snuggled together on your worn-out couch watching the news as a young reporter stands in front of a local research building in town and goes through the facts of citizens becoming "mindless and violent in a matter of hours." And how they have people under lockdown who are experiencing symptoms of this "mysterious illness."

A slight shiver goes through you as the reporter goes on. "That's really scary. No one knows what's causing it," you reflect aloud while you lean in closer into Dabi's outstretched arm that is resting around your shoulders.

"Aw, babe, don't be scared. Those mindless fools wouldn't stand a chance if they tried to lay a hand on you while I'm there," Dabi says with a glint of amusement in his voice. He always sounds so condescending, but you know it's the truth. Remembering a time at the bar when a guy wouldn't take no for an answer-not that Dabi really followed that either- but Dabi didn't hesitate to let the guy know you were already taken. He flirts and likes to jab a lot, but there’s a complete shift in the atmosphere when he's serious.

"Ugh, Dabi, you know I don't mean them attacking us. It's whatever is causing it that worries me. What happens if one of us gets it? There's no cure right now," You say and worry your lower lip between your teeth.

Dabi picks up on your anxious state, and his cocky facade fades. He pulls you on his lap so that you are fully facing him with legs pressed on either side of his. Dabi holds one large hand on your waist, and the other he presses to your cheek. Leaning your cheek further into his hand, Dabi moves his thumb to trace over the slight marks in your lip where your teeth were just placed. "Hey, listen to me, nothing is going to happen, okay? I won't let any of these maniacs hurt you, and we won't catch whatever they have," Dabi says tenderly as he gives you a small smile.

It's nice to see him like this- when his mask of superiority disappears, and he's focused on encouraging you. It doesn't happen often because you like to keep walls. Comfort from Dabi doesn’t need to happen often but you can’t say you don’t like it when he does. You enjoy these softer moments with him that only you get to see.

You pull Dabi into a light kiss. The gentle pressure of his mismatched lips fit seamlessly against yours. You pull away after a moment to look into his deep blue eyes that now captivate you. Dabi has that coy smile still on his face, and as his eyes meet your in that moment, it's like the horrible events of the world aren't happening anymore. All that seems to exist is the two of you, not the TV still prattling in the background or even the noises outside your city window.

Dabi lightly caresses your cheek down to the length of your neck and finally ending near where your collarbones sit. Everywhere he touches leaves behind a trail of goosebumps on your skin. Even with these simple touches, you can feel yourself starting moving against him, trying to create a bit of friction. Dabi knew how easily he could rile you up with simple touches. It was frustrating at times, and you wished you could have the same effect on him.

"I love you, babe. And no matter what, I won't let anything hurt you," Dabi tells you, and you swear his voice seems to be cracking, but the moment is gone before you can think about it. Dabi lives on being mysterious most of the time, and you rarely get to see this vulnerable side of him. Even if he doesn't say it behind that mask of cockiness, you can feel that there is fear of what's happening right now. Or at least that's what you think the fear is from, but Dabi will never admit the fear is from losing you to whatever this is. He isn't sure he could survive this hell of a life he's been given without you.

Your heart aches at his sincere words from earlier, and you whisper back, "I love you too, Dabi." Drawing him into a more intense kiss. Dabi begins to run his fingers along the hem of your t-shirt and delicately brushes the skin right under with his fingertips. You feel a moan bubble up inside of you, but his mouth moving against yours swallows the sound.

"I want you so bad, doll. Let's just forget what's going on right now, let the world fall away," he says in a husky voice after breaking away from the kiss.

You nod to him before letting out a content sigh and letting your eyes fall shut while Dabi continues to trace his hands over your body. Dabi trails his massive heated hands under the thin shirt you are wearing and down to your hips. You can feel the bulge of his cock through his jeans as it begins to press against your clothed core.

Opening your eyes, you meet Dabi's half-lidded lustful eyes and bite your bottom lip and allow yourself to give into Dabi taking over you.

You can feel your heart beating a little faster, watching Dabi drink in every ounce of you. Dabi is one of the only men you have ever trusted like this. To have you so totally vulnerable. It's strange how someone you didn't want anything to do with for months has become someone you rely on for everything- love, comfort, pleasure.

Dabi places open-mouthed kisses along your neck that leave you breathless. "Fuck, I'm obsessed with every inch of you," Dabi growls out before returning to kissing and sucking your neck and exposed collar bone.

You grip Dabi's shoulder to ground you back from floating away into complete bliss and tip your head out to give him more access to your neck. Dabi's mouth is like a flame that licks at your sensitive skin as he continues to trail his mouth all over. You could be trapped in this pleasure forever.

Dabi grasps the back of your head and roughly brings your lips back to his. With your mouths slotted against each other, you moan as Dabi finesses you to where you are lying on your back on the old couch, and he is hovering over you.

You break the kiss to quickly pull off his jacket and expose Dabi's scarred arms. And just as you have only trusted Dabi fully with yourself, he has done the same. Of course, the two of you have had sex with other people, mostly with lights off clothing still left on to hide the imperfections. But with each other, there is no more hiding.

Heat begins to pool in your belly as you watch Dabi pull off your shorts and slide his warm hands all the way back up your leg and massage the plush skin of your thighs. Once your shorts are removed, Dabi brings himself back to your face and, with a lustful sigh, traces kisses on your jaw and neck.

"Just relax and let me take you away from all of this, love. I want to hear every sound you make." He growls as he moves down towards your pussy and lays himself between your spread legs. Dabi lifts your thighs to rest on his shoulder as you let out a little gasp. You can feel the excitement and heat rising in you.

Dabi kisses down the inside of your soft thighs and stops to suck at certain spots, leaving minor marks in their place. He stops for a moment until you are looking directly into his captivating gaze, and then he licks a stripe up your pussy over the cotton of your underwear. You let out a breathy moan at the sensation. That jerk knows precisely what he's doing.

Dabi then grabs the thin material of your underwear and rips them away from your body with a tear. Groaning, you are about to curse at him for ruining another pair but are cut short when he sleekly licks up your folds. A delicate, playful moan leaves your separated lips. Your eyes close, and you cling onto his white shirt to ground yourself.

"Baby girl, you're soaking wet," Dabi teases as if you weren't aware but cuts off any retort again with a quick suck to your aching clit. You can't hold back the loud moan that bubbles up in your throat.

Dabi smiles against your lower lips and continues his ministrations. His mouth is open wide, so he can move back and forth from quickly licking up and down your sensitive pussy as well as suck softly on your clit. You feel light-headed at the extended sensations, little whimpers and moans falling through your lips. Dabi has always been able to leave you speechless with just his mouth.

"Dabi please," Your breathing hitches, and you moan out as he flicks his tongue repeatedly over your small bud. You can feel that hot pressure building in your stomach as Dabi continues. He laps at you like you are holding the only source of liquid left in this world, his tongue working wonders on your dripping hole.

Dabi pulls back and looks up at you as you eagerly meet his blue eyes, begging him to continue. He smirks before lowering his mouth back down and laps at your sopping core teasingly. Fucking bastard. Always a tease from day one.

Dabi licks his lips before returning to eating you out even faster as a series of cries and obscenities continue to fall out of your mouth. You can't hold them back. His mouth is so hot and wet against your core.

With another curse, you tell him you are close. A sigh escapes your lips, and your head tosses back onto the cushy arm of the couch. Dabi pulls away but inserts two fingers inside of you in place of his mouth.

"Fuck, sweetheart, as much as I want to hear you beg and plead for me, I want to taste you right now." Dabi lets out with a rough voice filled with desire. You whimper as he continues to fuck you with his fingers. He smirks at your blissed-out face and then returns his mouth to your pussy. His tongue flicks over your clit repeatedly as whines and cries continue to be let out of your mouth. Back arching, you bite at your lip, barely able to even process the words that came out of Dabi just a moment ago.

"Oh, fuck, Dabi, please. Please, I'm gonna cum soon." The words fall from your lips, and your mind feels numb to everything except the feeling of Dabi's tongue on your pussy.

Dabi grunts and gives another hard suck to your clit before pulling away just a bit. "Hell yeah, babe, come all over my face."

Your eyes roll back, and your mouth opens with another cry as your legs begin to tremble as the tension starts to rise in your stomach. One more lick, and you know you'd come. Dabi's continued suckling of your clit sends you careening over the edge. Your cries fill the room, and your back arches as your legs try to squeeze around his head. Dabi continues to suck and lick as you orgasm. Panting and with your eyes twisted shut, you cling to his shirt as you start to come down. A final curse gently leaves your mouth as you wait for your legs to stop shaking. Dabi takes one last long slow lick before sitting back and wiping his face with the back of his hand. You can't bring yourself to move from the couch, still panting and weak.

Your mind starts slowly coming back to you as the bliss begins to leave. The realization of everything happening in the world washes over you. But you were thankful Dabi took the time to distract you from the horrors of what's going on. You move over so Dabi can cuddle with you on the couch. It isn't much room, but it feels good to be this close with him, wrapped in each other's arms. You both slowly start to drift off to sleep, but you don't miss Dabi's final words mumbled into your hair, "I'll never let anything happen to you."

Shortly after that, the world seems to descend into madness. The illness grows more and more rampant. People are getting infected every day. Whether it's through the original source of contamination or by those contaminated biting or scratching someone. Panic spreads throughout the country. But through all of it, you and Dabi stick together.

From the moment it was declared an emergency Dabi was banging at your door, insisting the two of you find somewhere safer than your run-down apartment. Because while the two of you needed sleep, whatever these things are could go non-stop, and your apartment was not fortified.

You and Dabi lost your quirks a month after the emergency declaration, along with the rest of the population. People couldn't fight these zombie-like creatures off anymore. Like all the movies and TV shows, the bodies became more zombies than actual living people.

After a while of jumping around from a destroyed place to another, the two of you found yourself in an apartment building that had a sturdy enough entrance that the zombies couldn't break through. The daily struggles were still hard, though. Finding food and water to survive became a daily task for the two of you. Through all of this, he never left your side. He always insisted the two of you stay together. And so you did. Fighting the living dead, but sometimes the living too when things got even more terrible, and scavenging was your everyday routine now.

You lost track of time and could only follow when the seasons changed. But Dabi was really the only thing getting you through this. Seeing people destroy one another for food or shelter destroyed you inside. Never knowing if these zombies you were killing were someone you had known at one point, or just another faceless dead person tore at every corner of your brain. Dabi stayed strong for the two of you. Holding you every night on the ripped blankets, you could gather for the strange bed the two of you slept in. You would sob into his muscled chest about how you couldn't live in this world anymore, how you couldn't kill another person, alive or dead.

But Dabi would never let go. He would hold you close and let your never-ending tears stain the only shirt he had now. He would rub your back with his warm hands; even though his rusting staples would catch on your shirt and rip from his skin, he still did it. He would hold you until you fell asleep, whispering how strong you were and how he could never do this without you. And after all the tears, you were thankful too. Because without him, you'd be dead or alone. You knew that without Dabi, you would have never survived this long.

But you could see Dabi was hurting too. You couldn't find supplies to treat his decaying skin. He hid his daily pain from you, but when Dabi thought you weren't looking or listening, he would hiss at the pain of another staple pulling at his burnt skin or let out a huge sigh when he would try to put it back together, but it wouldn't cooperate.

The only hope the two of you held onto was each other and that possibly a cure would come soon. Not that either you could really access that information with no electricity; there wasn't any way to get information other than hearsay. You survived the best you could in this world.

And as much as this wasn't what you would have picked for either of you, at least you had each other. You tried not to think of a time when you wouldn't be together, even though the chances of that happening were high- it hurt too much. To survive in this world without Dabi would be too fucking much.

It's almost as if fate chose to play a cruel game with the two of you. It seemed like a "normal" trip out to scavenge for food and water. The two of you had to expand your search area since places closer were mainly empty.

This time you found yourself outside of a convenience store, a reasonable distance away from your home. It hadn't been completely destroyed by some miracle and was not overrun by the zombified people. Still, in a state of decay, though, Dabi was quickly able to kick his heavy boots through the door and get the two of you in.

Sauntering through the gas station, you quickly begin to pick up canned food and stale bags of chips and shove them in your worn backpack. Dabi is doing the same on other aisles until he lets out a chuckle. "Hey babe, look what I found." He says with a cocky voice holding up a few boxes of wrapped condoms above the aisle for you to see.

You roll your eyes. "Thanks, Dabi. Is sex really what we want to be thinking about right now? Let's just get this shit and get out." You let out with an annoyed huff and continue to push the limits of how much your bag can hold.

Dabi comes over to your aisle and snakes his arms around your waist with your back pressed to his chest. He places his chin on your shoulder and whispers in your ear. "Yes, all I can think about is getting your beautiful body back home and finally being able to finish in you, and with these, I can." He lets out a dark chuckle as he pulls you closer against him and bucks his hips playfully.

"Okay, horn dog, let's get this shit done, and then we can do whatever you want back home." You let out with an eye roll. It's hard to stay mad at him. You know he's trying to keep things light for you, to keep you happy because he can see how hard this is. And his regular teasing is one way he knows will bring a smile to your face.

As you are finishing up trying to take inventory of anything else in the store that you can take back, you spot the clear plastic that holds the cartons of cigarettes behind the cashier counter. While you didn't necessarily want Dabi smoking, you knew he missed the vice. Cigarettes were just as hard to find as medicine in this new world. Smiling to yourself, you move behind the counter and reach for the plastic flap to lift it up.

As you try to lift the latch, it doesn't budge. You look around for what might be blocking it before seeing the tiny silver keyhole to one side of the compartment. Crap, of course, it's locked. You really wanted to surprise Dabi with this. Maybe you still could. The key had to be here somewhere, right? You think while scanning around the counter. You try searching through the counters for a hidden key but no luck. Letting out a heavy sigh, you call Dabi over.

Dabi wanders over to your annoyed face and can't help but smile at your slight pout. "I wanted to surprise you! But I can't open it. Can you get it, please?" It comes out almost like a whine as you gesture to the cigarettes.

Dabi's smirk turns into a genuine smile, and he pats the top of your head before saying, "My sweet doll. Thank you for thinking of me. Let me help you out." You could smack him, but instead, you watch as he hastily rips the plastic covering away and slips his hand below it to grab one of the wrapped cartons.

At that moment, everything changes. The fun times the two of you were having shatters as a loud alarm rings through the store. Panic floods your system as you stare at Dabi wide-eyed. "There is no electricity. What's happening? There shouldn't be an alarm." Horror is laced in your voice as words spill out of you. Every walking corpse within miles will be here soon with the sound.

"Fuck, must have had a battery attachment. Come on, let's go." Dabi's usual playfulness is gone as he abandons the cigarettes and grabs your hand. He's grave now. Getting the two of you out of here safely is his only goal.

You follow Dabi quickly, a hand grasped tightly in his as he runs towards the broken-down front door. And that's when even more terror settles into you. Zombies are pushing their way through the open door. Their rotting bodies and white eyes focused on the area where the alarm is coming from. There weren't many around when you broke in, but now it seems like they are multiplying by the moment.

"Fuck fuck fuck." Dabi curses under his breath, quickly turning around and pulling you towards the building's back exit. You follow behind adrenaline surging through your veins fueled by your flight response. Dabi grasps at the metal handle to the back door and shakes it only to find it locked. "Damnit!" he shouts before kicking the door violently.

Your heart is pounding, and you feel helpless as you stare at Dabi while he continues to slam himself at the door. While the front door was glass and flimsier, this door was only budging slightly. With all your focus on the door, you don't notice the continuously growing herd filtering into the gas station. Not until you feel one brush against your shoulder.

Your eyes widen as you feel a scream bubbling in your throat. This is it. This is where the two of you die and either become fodder for a herd of living dead or turn into one yourself. Your brain is pure panic as thoughts fly through faster than you can catch them. You don't even realize you have screamed out Dabi's name until you see his face turn towards yours.

His typically blue eyes are almost entirely covered by his dark pupils as he takes in the monstrosities behind you. But unlike you, he doesn't hesitate. He pulls out a knife he keeps in one of his pockets and slams it into the decaying skull of the zombie that is right behind you. Splurts of dark blood hit your cheek as he pulls out the knife, and the creature behind you crumples to the floor.

"Keep trying the door! I'll keep them off you." Dabi shouts, pulling you into the spot he previously stood. Your heartbeat is so loud you can feel it in your head, and you can't even make a coherent response as you begin to slam your body against the solid surface. You can feel it give a little more with each push of your body, and everything in you is screaming not to give up. Doing your best not to glance at Dabi's grunting and movements as he continues to try and put down zombie after zombie.

You can't give up; this can't be the end . Desperately your brain is screaming as you continue to feel the door give more and more. Your shoulder hurts from the continued impact, but you aren't letting it slow you down. You can feel it; it's almost there.

Suddenly the door gives, and you can see the sun shining through on the other side. You cry out in relief and turn back to tell Dabi to come with you. But as your eyes meet, fear fills every ounce of you.

He's still fighting them off, but there is a gaping bite wound on his right arm— rows of teeth marks embedded in his skin. You feel like you're going to be sick. There is no coming back from this; there's no known cure. At any point within the next twenty-four hours, he would be another one of the walking dead, no sense, no logic, and looking to consume others. This can't be happening, this can't be happening. Your heart is sinking with every second that ticks by.

"What the fuck are you waiting for? Get out! Get out!" Dabi screams at you as he embeds his knife in another zombie.

"No, no, I can't leave without you! I-we can find something. I'll find something, please! Come on, Dabi, I can't do this without you!" You are sobbing now, hot tears streaming through the dirt and blood mixed on your face. An ache in your heart starts to form. You know you don't know how to help him, but you'll do anything to not leave him behind.

Dabi lets out a grin despite the feral dead people closing in on him. And gives you a wink before saying in a voice that seems too calm for the situation, "Come on, doll, you are the most intelligent person I know. You have to go. Live for us, babe. Look at how far we've come. Go show this world that it won't ever break you down. I love you, and I'll come to find you wherever you are in the afterlife and annoy the shit out of you. Now go!"

It's like your heart is being ripped into a thousand pieces. Your breath comes out in short huffs, moving towards hyperventilating. You want to go back to Dabi and cling on for dear life, but you won't let him die in vain. Not after that speech. That would be an insult to everything the two of you have overcome. So with all your strength, you give your lover, the man who has come so far with you, the last look before letting out a final "I love you too" and burst out the door.

You don't look back, aching feet propelling you forward as tears continue to stream and fall off your face. When you first met Dabi, you would have never thought you'd miss him. But you will , you'll miss every snarky comment, every flirty glance, and the tender way only he has loved you. The man that you were sure was just some asshole trying to get laid became the love of your life and sacrificed himself so you could live. And you could never let that go to waste.

#smut pile collab #Dabi x reader #Dabi smut #tw: character death #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #Dabi fanfiction #my fic #how far we've come

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beauty-and-passion · 3 years

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Silly fun challenge prompt: what languages do you associate with the Sides/what would be the 2nd language each Side learn?

For example I am a big fan of Hispanic (Spanish speaking) Creativitwins fanon. And c! Thomas too could've learnt Spanish in high school and the fact his love interest is hispanic too just makes perfect sense-

And in contrast to Hispanic twins I headcanon Janus as a francophone (French speaking) for two reasons: 1) it was still lingua franca around Victorian era, his aesthetic inspiration and 2) dividing American high school by Spanish class vs. French class is like causing Civil War (I was and still am a language nerd, so I learnt both languages, which was a mistake but the kind of mistake that was worth it when you think about it later)

German suites Logan since lots of famous philosophers are German. I associate Japanese or Korean with Virgil since those two are really dominant in the current subculture world (and maybe our emo could've been inspired and turn into E-boy - wow that sounds terrifying)

I don't have strong preference on Patton's but Italian sounds nice, since all those music and dessert and anything sweet are often from Italy. And maybe 'Orange' can be some language that sounds harsh like Russian, so he can murmur in that in sleep and scares everyone else

I know you're in Europe: 1) you use GMT and 2) Americans wouldn't care about Eurovision. So I wonder how you would think based on your European experience!

Oooh, I like this! As European Who Studied Languages, I definitely approve this and I'll gladly add my two cents about which languages the sides should learn.

_________

Roman: He canonically knows Spanish and that's perfect like that. Spanish is a romantic language, someone speaks Spanish and you can't help but swoon. It’s a great choice for the Side responsible for romance and passion.

_________

Remus: Remus isn't just intrusive thoughts, but there’s a very high chance he’s also responsible for Thomas' sexual urges. So, what is the language made for sex? You’re right, it’s French. French is sexy. You can say anything in French and bam, ✨sexy ✨.

"Je sors la poubelle." Sexy, isn't it? Well, I just said "I'm taking out the trash". See? Very sexy.

(French people, please confirm my words. We all know it’s true)

_________

Janus: Your points are incredibly valid and I love them. But if we should choose among all languages, I would love Janus to be one of the very few (extremely few) people in the world who can speak Latin.

I know Latin is a dead language, but it would be great - and not just because of the connection with his name.

Let’s consider that the other Romance languages, despite evolving from Latin, cannot entirely understand it, because they all changed a lot through the centuries after mixing with the Germanic ones. On the other hand, the Germanic languages (English, German, Swedish and so on) are part of a completely different group, only slightly influenced by Latin, so they cannot understand it.

In other words, Janus would speak a language that only sounds familiar - and maybe you can grasp a couple words here and there if you know a romance language, but the true meaning is hidden. What is he actually saying? Who knows. Is he actually cursing someone? Who knows. After all, do you understand Latin? Yeah, me neither.

If I have to pick a language that is still spoken today instead, I think I'll join you with French. Your points are valid and French is a very elegant language, fitting for Janus’ whole aesthetic. So yes, French could work.

_________

Logan: German is a great choice and you are absolutely right with your point about the philosophers. Also German is a language of harsh sounds and strict grammar rules - for example:

declensions that should be used accordingly for articles, adjectives and nouns

specific verbs for specific meanings

words made by putting together shorter words (like Haustürschlüssel. Haustür means “front door”, Schlüssel means “key” -> this word means “front door’s key”)

sentences that should follow a specific construction, with parts of the compound verb after the noun and part at the end of the sentence. And secondary phrases also have a specific syntax and should always be introduced by a comma

In other words, it's a very organized language and I think it would fit Logan.

But also, considering that almost all words related to science and philosophy come from Greek, I think Logan should at least understand some Greek. As a treat.

(Also because Greek is another incredibly complicated language, so if someone has the patience to learn it, it’s definitely Logan.)

_________

Virgil: oh my gosh, I never thought about an eastern language for Virgil. In a way, it would be a very peculiar choice and I kinda like it. Japanese and Korean are extremely complicated languages, they have a very specific alphabet (I'm especially thinking about the Japanese one, that even asks for a specific direction to write words) and require a lot of work (and memory) to learn them.

But Virgil is also a poet and when I think of poets and sonnets my first connection is with the french ennui, le mal du vivre and especially Baudelaire and his works. Virgil would appreciate Baudelaire a lot. So French, again.

But hey, there’s too much French now. So I’ll pick the other european literature full of sadness: the russian one.

Russian is supposed to be a big scary language and its alphabet is weird and omg what if they're cursing us? But if you learn it a little bit, you’ll find out that Russian has a lot of soft/open sounds (due to a good use of vowels) and it's very poetic.

So the language itself is a bit like Virgil: he seems scary and evil at a first glance, but if you learn about him, he's actually kinder than he looks.

But never underestimate Russian, because just like Anxiety, fear is just behind the corner: you start learning it and wow, there is just one present tense, one past tense and one future tense? This is great, what a wonderful language!

And then, before you’ll realize it, you will find out that each verb has a “doppelganger” used for entirely different purposes AND there a gazillion verbs of motion and you will end up crying on the floor, because there are just too many verbs - and look, there are also one trillion particles you can put before these verbs and they give them EVEN MORE MEANINGS.

No, this isn't entirely based on my personal experience, what makes you think that.

_________

Patton: I have never thought about Patton learning another language, because English just fits him too well.

But when you proposed Italian... well, my heart just wiped out everything else. There is nothing here, only Patton speaking Italian.

So yes, Patton's second language should be Italian. No, it must be Italian. Because French is the language of sex, Spanish is the language of love, but if you want to declare your eternal love to someone, you use Italian. Do you want to marry someone? Italian. Do you want to tell your significant other how much you adore them? Italian. Italian has one million ways to express love and Patton should use them all with his kiddos.

And yes, Italian is also associated with warm people, warm places and good food, all things Patton deserves and should enjoy. So Italian is a big yes.

_________

Orange: since Orange is a mystery, I am a bit torn between these two languages:

1) Esperanto: This language is amazing, because it isn’t a natural language, born like all others, but it has been built by a man, who wanted to create an universal language in order to foster world peace and international understanding.

So this language has been created to be as simple as possible, with a very regular grammar (unlike all other natural languages) and its words all have references to other language groups (romance, germanic, slavic, indo-europeans, finno-ugric languages and so on).

And if you actually listen to it (especially if you know some latin languages) you will find it weirdly understandable. I found this video in particular and I was impressed by how strangely familiar esperanto sounds.

And... that’s it, I just think it would be kinda poetic that the last side knows a language that all others can use and understand.

2) A Greenlandic language. Why? Because they are insanely polysynthetic.

What does that mean? If in German you can make words by putting together other two/three words (like in the example I used before), in the Greenlandic languages you can build an entire sentence by putting together nouns, verbs, articles and everything else. All together in one single word, whose meaning can be translated with an entire sentence in another language.

Do you want an example? Here is an example from Wikipedia: tuntussuqatarniksaitengqiggtuq.

Yes, this is a word.

This word is from the Yupik language and means "He had not yet said again that he was going to hunt reindeer.". And this word is made of:

tuntu- (= reindeer)

ssur- (= hunt)

qatar- (future tense)

ni- (= say)

ksaite- (negative)

ngqiggte- (= again)

uq (3rd.sing.IND)

Is this insane? This is fucking insane. Do you want to be scared? This is real fear. What the heck. How. Why.

You know what? This is perfect for Orange, I’ll leave Esperanto to Thomas. Orange deserves to be this scary. I can already see the other sides quiver before him.

_________

And so, here are my guesses! If someone has other ideas, feel free to add yours and tell us why, so we can all have a nice discussion :D

#sanders sides #ask #roman sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #orange side #thomas sanders #this is a great ask #also I may have been a little too involved #but I studied these languages #and there's even my own <3 #side note: Americans don't know what they're missing #eurovision is the best #it's our trashy glittery camp show #with arson and gays included #sides and foreign languages

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