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lurkingshan · 1 year

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The Ride or Die Drama Couples List

So the other night I got a little sassy on main because some of the girlies were complaining that King the Land is focusing more on the couple moments (aka relationship development) between Gu Won and Sa Rang and doesn’t have enough plot. Which is a very typical fandom complaint about romcoms that I absolutely hate, because in a good romance the relationship is the plot, people! It’s bizarre attitudes like this that get us random murder plots spliced into every other romcom for the ratings, and I am begging y’all to stop the madness.

Ahem. Anyway, that post seemed to resonate with some folks and get them discussing other dramas, and so inevitably @troubled-mind wandered into my notes and said gee Shan, it seems like maybe you should make a list of dramas that show us couples in a relationship and explore how they make it work and ultimately stay together. And I’ve warned y’all before, if you make a stray comment in my direction there will be a list coming your way. So here I am again, doing the absolute most.

Today I present to you a list of my favorite dramas that show you not only how the couple gets together, but also how they stay together. Criteria:

The couple doesn’t have to be together when the drama starts, but they do have to actually begin their romantic relationship no later than halfway through the drama’s run so that we have substantial time with them as a couple

The relationship development between the couple is a primary plot driver (so no dramas where there’s a great long term couple just hanging out in the background)

The relationship story may include some physical separation or even a temporary breakup, but not the betrayal kind–these are the sort that actually force an unaddressed issue to the surface and ultimately bring the couple even closer

Happy endings only, these pairs are sticking together

Ride or Die Drama Couples

Bad Buddy - Pat and Pran

(Thailand, YouTube)

This is tumblr so do I really need to tell y’all about Pat and Pran? There is a reason we all lost our minds over this show and it’s because we got to be in this relationship with them so intensely and see them fight to stay together despite it all. Their ending is bittersweet because of their families, but the show leaves us no doubt that they both think the other is worth it and they will always stick it out together.

Dark Blue Kiss - Pete and Kao

(Thailand, YouTube)

Shout out to the OGs! Pete and Kao originally got together in the Kiss series (you can watch it, but you really don’t have to, fam) and Dark Blue Kiss brings them back three years into their long-term relationship to give us a peek into their struggles with the closet and the toll it takes on both of them individually as well as the strain it puts on their relationship.

Flower of Evil - Hee Sung and Ji Won

(S Korea, Netflix or Viki)

Hee Sung and Ji Won are already married (with an adorable daughter) when this drama begins, and the backstory of their relationship is unspooled alongside the larger mystery at the heart of the show. One of the most fascinating and heart wrenching love stories I have ever seen, centered on a character who is so emotionally damaged that he genuinely believes he is incapable of love even as love pours out of him. Damn, I’m gonna make myself cry into my oatmeal.

It’s Okay, That’s Love - Jae Yeol and Hae Soo

(S Korea, Viki)

Speaking of crying, lord. Ahhhhhhh. Let me pull myself together. It’s Okay, That’s Love is a healing drama about two people who fall in love and support each other through serious mental health challenges. I don’t really want to say much more than that. Bring tissues, besties!

La Pluie - Patts and Saengtai

(Thailand, iQIYI)

My beloved! This Thai drama is about a pair of soulmates–or are they–who find each other and try to make their relationship work. That’s it, that’s the show. In this drama, the relationship truly is the plot, despite some of the fantasy elements being used to highlight its themes. La Pluie is about the importance of choice and a rebuke of romantic fantasies that fate and destiny will handle your love life for you. I and many others have written about it extensively, so if you decide to watch, you can go nuts on meta.

Lighter & Princess - Li Xun and Zhu Yun

(China, Viki)

I really love this show. This is a long format drama so there will be longer stretches where the couple still has not officially gotten together, but the relationship between them is the heart of the entire show, and we get the distinct pleasure of watching them fall in love twice, and the second time figure out how to make it stick. Such a treat.

One Spring Night - Ji Ho and Jung In

(S Korea, Netflix)

Oh how I love this quiet little drama about two people who fall for each other while one is still in a relationship with someone else, and figure out how to untangle the mess they’re in. We get to see them not only fall in love, but figure out how to become a unit who can withstand the harsh judgment coming their way and become a family on their own terms. Bonus adorable child alert!

Tomorrow With You - So Joon and Ma Rin

(S Korea, Viki)

This time travel melodrama is one of those that I started with no expectations and then sat up part way through and said what gave you the right to be this good! This is another one where the relationship begins for dubious reasons, but the suspect motives are quickly taken over by genuine feeling. We really get to live with the relationship in this one and the message is all about treasuring the life and time we have together.

The Rebel Princess - Awu (Wang Xuan) and Xiao Qi

(China, Viki)

I think the phrase Ride or Die was actually invented for them. Talk about a power couple. Once these two get to know each other (this is a historical so as per usual, their marriage wasn’t actually their choice but rather the result of some asshole’s machinations in a quest for power, joke’s on them though) they are in, baby, and their devotion and loyalty never wavers. This is a historical epic in war time, so the couple will be physically separated multiple times, but it only makes them stronger and each of their reunions sweeter. Their relationship is the heart of the show and the throughline in their chaotic lives.

What Did You Eat Yesterday? - Shiro and Kenji

(Japan, the ether)

Saving the best for last because this right here is the GOAT in this category. It sits at the top of my all-time favorite dramas list and I love it passionately. Because y’all? This drama is explicitly about a middle-aged couple learning how to be together in a long-term relationship. That is the entire plot. And it’s fantastic. Stop reading this and go watch it!

Honorable Mentions

Yumi’s Cells - Yu Mi and Goo Wong

(S Korea, Viki)

This one is not on the list proper because (gasp) the couple doesn’t end up together. I know, I’m still sad about it, too, even though I went into this drama fully aware of the concept (a season about each of Yu Mi’s major relationships). But man. Yu Mi and Goo Wong just have that something, you know? Even knowing they don’t stick it out, it’s a delight to watch them fall in love and settle into a relationship together. Technically there is a second season featuring Yu Mi’s next relationship (Babi? I don’t know her), but I don’t want to recommend it and you can’t make me.

I must also give a shout out to the bl season 2s that exist expressly for the purpose of showing how the characters settle into a relationship after the first season get together:

Gameboys 2 (Philippines, Gaga) - Cairo and Gavreel

Minato’s Laundromat 2 (Japan, Gaga)- Shin and Minato

SOTUS S and Our Skyy (Thailand, YouTube) - Kongpob and Arthit

Still 2gether (Thailand, YouTube) - Tine and Sarawat

Utsukushii Kare 2 (Japan, Gaga) - Hira and Kiyoi

And because this is my post and I make the rules, I am also doing some honorable mentions of the friends to lovers slow burns where technically they are not together until the final arc of the story but let’s be serious they are together the whole time and just don’t realize it yet so you know exactly what their relationship is going to look like:

Fight for My Way (S Korea, Viki) - Dong Man and Ae Ra

Happiness (S Korea, Viki) - Sae Bom and Yi Hyun

Hospital Playlist 1 and 2 (S Korea, Viki) - Song Hwa and Ik Jun

My Only 12% (Thailand, iQIYI) - Seeiw and Cake

My Ride (Thailand, Gaga or YouTube) - Mork and Tawan

Romance is a Bonus Book (S Korea, Netflix) - Dan Yi and Eun Ho

Weightlifting Fairy Kim Bok-Joo (S Korea, Viki) - Joon Hyeong and Bok Joo

Whoops you woke the beast @troubled-mind. @rocketturtle4 @neuroticbookworm @chickenstrangers here are more for your mile long rec lists. :)))

#bad buddy #dark blue kiss #flower of evil #it's okay that's love #la pluie #lighter and princess #one spring night #tomorrow with you #the rebel princess #what did you eat yesterday?#yumi’s cells #shan recommends #drama recs

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ronearoundblindly · 1 year

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Time and Tines (1/3)

Plans (see series)

Steve Rogers x Villain!Reader for @sweeterthanthis's Bittersweet Symphony Writing Challenge

Can’t change the way we are, One kiss away from killing. —Bishop Briggs, River

Summary: Steve meets the mysterious woman staring at him from across the room.

Warnings for vague injuries, mention of needles, manipulation/brainwashing, SEMI-DARK fic (like I've read worse but it ain't sunny, folks). MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY. This work has heavy themes unsuitable for minors. There is plenty else to read on my Light Masterlist if this is not your cup of tea! WC 3.6k

The event isn’t overly loud, but the lights are lower and he is surrounded by people. Steve isn’t fond of crowds, not when he’s not working, not when the event is actually meant to be fun for him. He isn’t Captain America right now. He isn’t the center of attention. He isn’t bothering to mingle. Instead, he’s chosen to humor a long-winded medical rant from the Avenger’s resident doctor of the past half-year.

Salvatore Avani enlightens Steve on several ways he can assess and replicate Erskine’s serum without taking a drop of any super soldier’s blood. It would be an interesting project if Steve hadn’t heard it all before, over and over, from every hopeful doctor and scientist to cross his path. At least Steve gets to be out of his suit for a while and…in another suit, though this one is significantly more forgiving to his stance and skin.

“You see, Captain, your strength can be wielded for so much more than fighting. It could give safety and security to people working unmechanizable jobs,” Dr. Avani points out.

“Not sure that’s a word, sir, but I understand.” Steve swirls whisky around in his tumbler, ice long melted, and wishes—not for the first time—that alcohol still had an effect on him. “A certain amount of modernization does protect those same workers from danger…and no one had to be dosed with anything,” he concludes before emptying the glass in hand.

As Avani opens his mouth to retort, a weight lands on Steve’s shoulder.

“Sorry, Doc,” Bucky interrupts, “just a quick word.”

“Of course, gentlemen.” The doctor turns back around to the bar to order himself another cocktail.

Bucky leans to whisper in Steve’s ear.

“So, punk, we got a situation at three o’clock.”

His whole body tenses, which doesn’t look all that different because Steve has excellent posture, but he deposits the finished glass on the counter and looks over his right shoulder past his friend.

Eyes. Intense and focused eyes meet his before darting down. A few people meander in the space between but you’re all Steve can see for a long moment.

“There it is,” Bucky mutters in recognition.

“Did you just make me look at a dame across the room?” Steve runs a hand over his freshly shaven law and hisses. “Jerk.”

“Uh, that dame’s been staring at you for a solid twenty minutes, but you weren’t noticing. You’re welcome.”

Steve lowers his head, suppressing a grin as best he can and glancing again to his right.

You’ve turned away. You’re fiddling with a glass of clear, bubbly liquid. Vodka soda? Gin and tonic? Those are Steve’s first guesses, but he can’t tell which since both lemon and lime wedges float above the ice.

“Two of whatever she is having,” Bucky asks the bartender helpfully, clapping a pat of encouragement on Steve’s back.

The man behind the bar gives a quizzical look and then shrugs.

Buck winks at him as Steve heads for your high-top table. No one else stands around you. No rings on the hand beside your drink. No way you don’t know he’s coming over even with your eyes down.

“Hi, mind if I join you?”

You smile without looking up. “Only if you brought gifts.” Your voice is small, a little shyer than Steve would expect from someone brazen enough to watch him that long from afar, but he sets his offering on the table anyway.

“I do,” he replies softly, matching your tone, “although what it is is a mystery to me.”

Still smiling, you drain your original glass quickly and confess, “Sierra Mist.”

Steve sucks air through pearly white teeth. “Yikes. More of a 7-Up man myself.”

“Go figure. Captain America has brand loyalty.”

He fails to stop the burst of laughter punched from his chest. It doesn’t scare you though. He’s actually pleased it seems to relax you. He sets his own hand on the table approximately an inch from yours.

“Touché.”

A faint tremor rolls through that hand but stops after you make a fist and release it.

Steve just starts saying random things that come to mind, and shockingly, it works.

Conversation flows for while as he notices that your dress straps don’t stay put very well and there is a barely visible seam at your hairline. Why you would need to wear a wig, he has no idea. He finds himself almost compelled to say your natural hair is perfect, just like you.

And this is why Steve doesn’t let himself out much.

During one comment regarding the other guests, he sneaks a peek over at Bucky—still beside Avani—and is flashed a thumbs up which he immediately hopes you did not see.

Chatting continues.

Steve isn’t a good flirt, but it seems he’s getting lucky with little lines tonight. He’s willing to push his luck.

“Well, after all this sweetness, maybe we should dance off some energy.” Yet sugar, like alcohol, has no discernible effect on Steve Rogers.

“Oh, no. That’s not necessary. I’m a miserable dancer.” You lift your bejeweled clutch up alongside your lemon-lime soda. “Besides how would I carry it all?”

“Well, if they’d make dresses with fuller skirts like they used to,” Steve teases, pushing his half-full glass aside, “you wouldn’t have that problem. The world regressed that way. Real shame.”

“Not a fan of form-fitting gowns?” you cock your head with wide eyes.

Steve’s gaze snaps to his shoes, hoping to choke off the heat rising in his cheeks. It only chokes his words. “Oh, oh god, no. They’re lovely. I meant, ya know, pockets and…I just—I didn’t want anything to stop you.“

“Me neither.”

You take him in with warm assessment and one last evaluation of the room, tucking your lip between your teeth briefly. “You’re in luck,” you add with a laugh. “I’m about to blow your mind, Captain.”

He watches you open the clasp, fish around inside the tiny bag—barely an envelope, really, but Steve learned from Natasha that ladies can hold a scary amount in those things,— and pull out a silvery length like a party trick from the minuscule confines. The new strap allows you to toss the purse over your shoulder.

You present the transformation like it’s a superpower.

“Nifty,” Steve coos.

You nod an acceptance of his awe. “I am nothing if not prepared.”

“And now—“ he offers his hand again “—out of excuses. Bucky tells me I am ‘a sight to behold’ and not in a good way. Shall we prove him right in solidarity?”

You head to the open floor, guided by Steve’s lead. “Not gonna try to prove him wrong?”

He swings you around to face him. “How would I always win as Cap if I bet like that?”

You hum while Steve settles a hand over the satin at your waist. “Picking your battles, huh?” Free and delicate hands land at his shoulders before one smooths down his sleeve, your eyes never leaving his. “And I’m a fight waiting to happen?”

He gets lost for a few bars until he shows his true colors and winces.

“Well, my toes are fighting with yours, clearly.”

But you simply laugh.

Steve’s brain turns over the steps and his apologies and then finally lands on a good line way after the fact. “Or, no, wait, I’ve got it now.” He squares his shoulders a little more and deepens his voice, comically.

“You’re worth fighting for.”

The snort huffed in his face is perfect, the grin that splits your painted lips over shiny white teeth blinding and well worth his efforts.

“Oh wow. See!” He earns a featherlight slap to the chest. “You do have your charming moments, Captain Rogers.”

“Steve, please—“ he fakes leading you off the floor “—and could we go repeat that in front of—“

“—the extremely grumpy man gripping a beer bottle?” Your sights land across the room toward the bar. “I don’t know, Steve. Your critic looks pretty…something.”

Steve frowns when he sees Bucky. As his friend speaks with Dr. Avani, Bucky’s face pinches solid as stone, overly serious beside the doctor’s casual body language. Buck indeed looks pissed for no reason.

Steve squints in apology. “He’s not—that’s just—I promise he’s not like that—“

Where’s that teasing joy from a minute ago?

He contemplates that still when your hands release him, and his focus snaps back.

“I need to use the ladies’ room anyway,” you shrug, rubbing a palm up and down your bare arm.

“And then fireworks?” Steve inserts hopefully, almost removing his suit jacket right then to drape over your shoulders. He sounds like an excited schoolboy, and he’s again glad that Bucky is far enough away not to know how obvious he’s being.

You smile, a graceful tug at the dark, matte lipstick sculpted over your full—Rogers. Then a little nod is all you offer before turning to the hall, bag bouncing at your hip on its magic chain.

Steve watches you go, meandering over to Bucky while glancing in your last known direction, until his friend grunts to get his attention.

Avani is gone, but Buck’s face remains sour.

“What on earth did Doc say? Some intel for a mission?” Steve’s only half-curious and fully-distracted though.

His friend just waves off the mood. “Where’s your girl?”

“She’s not…” Steve shakes his head.

“Fine. Where’s your girl for the night?” Bucky raises one eyebrow.

“You know that sounds even worse now than it did back then, right?”

“Well?” Bucky looks around inquisitively.

“Powder her nose—” Steve smirks with rosy cheeks “—then watching the light show.”

He gets a solid smack between his shoulders and a proud nod.

Steve tries to remain patient, he really does, but after a few minutes and nearly every guest settled into their own viewing spot across the long balcony, he checks back over his shoulder.

Nothing.

He excuses himself from Bucky’s side and wanders toward the hallway.

Yes, he knows he’ll look too interested and a bit stalker-esque, but he doesn’t want to miss the show—he doesn’t want you to miss the show with him. There’s gonna be this beautiful display in the sky and you’ll be engrossed enough that he can just look at the changing colors glow across your…

What?!

Around one corner of the wall, Steve sees a foot, one shiny, brown men’s dress shoe, and then another. Someone’s kneeling—shaking if rolling toes are any indication—and then there you are standing over him.

“Doctor Avani?” Steve croaks, watching you raise a syringe and needle high over the man’s head.

You ignore Steve’s arrival.

The doctor’s eyes don’t break from you as he shrieks, “Captain, she’s mad. She—“

“How dare you? Bastard,” you bite out, heaving your weapon at the doctor’s exposed throat as Steve lunges forward.

It punctures the thick, luxurious navy fabric of Steve’s suit, and he feels the slight swelling pressure of liquid entering his forearm.

You release your grip, eyes wild and teeth bared. Gone is the sweet and serene woman with whom he shared a drink and danced.

The syringe stays lodged in Steve’s flesh as he pushes the doctor aside to shield him, but it’s too late for you.

Bucky followed behind him and now wraps your arms behind your back while you struggle to inch toward Avani, spitting insults.

“What was it?” Bucky demands. “What’s in there? What poison?”

Steve rips the needle out, checking it for any clues.

With a scowl, your fierce gaze stays on the doctor.

“Ask him. It’s his brand of suffering.”

Steve watches behind the two-way mirror for a while, deciding how to approach you. After chatting with you for the better part of an hour at the event, he still knows absolutely nothing about you. Every single piece of your preliminary file is news to him. He has to start from scratch, which is, ironically, what you are trying to do to the seam of your wig when he finally enters the interrogation room.

“Tea or water?” Steve sets down the cups.

You stop fidgeting for a beat. “Water is fine. Thank you.”

Polite. You stabbed him with a needle, injected him with an unknown substance, and you’re polite about it? He doesn’t understand the nonchalance. If you meant to kill Dr. Avani, then why aren’t you upset that you failed?

With your hands cuffed and the chain laced through a handlebar built into the table, it’s an awkward strain on your neck. You shove your shoulder high and pulse your head back and forth. Your wrists are thin, thin enough that one good, hard pull might actually snap one.

Polite and uncomfortable. Steve figures showing some courtesy might loosen your tongue.

He unlocks the cuffs and places the water in easy reach, keeping the tea for himself.

He sits and you sip. It’s peaceful when it shouldn’t be.

Avani has no clue who you are or what you want, but Steve couldn’t get many answers during the chaos that ensued after your attack. His own heart rate skyrocketed for a few minutes before normalizing. Otherwise, he’s fine.

He tilts the tea in your direction.

“Here’s hoping you didn’t waste truth serum on me,” he cheers. “Might be the only drug completely useless both after and before Erskine’s formula.”

You’re amused, a smirk lifting fading, dark lips. “Ah yes. Good, honest Captain America.”

“To a fault.”

“No.” Your seriousness stops him cold, and Steve’s smile fades. “It’s not a fault. You’re just rare.”

You value honesty. He can work with that.

“Is that why you chose a drug specifically for the doctor? You didn’t want to harm anyone else, even by accident?”

That shuts you down instead. Steve’s jumped too far, too fast. He’s not allowed to use the same easy tone as before this mess. Maybe he should have found some 7Up…

Silence descends until broken by your heavy swallows of water.

You’re staring down at your reflection in the table’s surface.

“I love stainless steel,” you mutter to no one in particular. “It’s like diffusion. I almost look normal.”

“You mean because you look different?” Steve pulls out your ID found in that small purse. “Why don’t you look ‘normal?’”

You shrug, finally dislodging the precarious strap and it dangles down your arm. “Lost weight.”

“And the hair?”

He was right. Your natural hair in the photo is beautiful. Why the hell are you wearing a wig? If it were obscuring your identity, he imagines you would know not to carry around a real ID.

“Time” is your only answer.

You’re skirting around the truth, lying by omission, waiting for the exact right questions which Steve doesn’t know yet, so he asks something for peace of mind, something that will tell him how long to play this game. “Are you gonna be honest with me?”

Your answer comes easily enough. “Are you gonna be helpful to me?”

Simple. Straightforward. Cutting. It’s said with sorrowful eyes.

He can’t promise anything when he doesn’t know why. “If your purpose is to kill a man then, no, I can’t help you with that.”

Your empty cup lands on the table with a light tonk.

“Maybe I’ll wait until someone who can help walks through that door.”

“In this situation, I believe I’m what’s known as the ‘good cop,’” Steve sighs. “Don’t think you want to dance with the ‘bad cop.’ He’s pretty annoyed he didn’t peg you for an assailant first.”

Nothing about your demeanor changes, not a flinch, not a blink. “Good thing I don’t want to dance with him.”

“He’s not much of a talker either. I’d be a better—“

“I didn’t say I’d talk to him either.”

Steve leans on his elbows, splaying wide across the table. “Just tell me your story. I am here to listen.”

“That makes this sound like a first date.”

“Bucky would likely agree—“ he snorts “—and he’d make a point to say this is going about as well as any date I’ve been on this century. Please,” Steve tries again, “ talk to me.”

There’s a long pause. Your intense gaze remains steady. Whatever your reasons, they don’t strain your moral fortitude. You are a believer, faithful to this unknown cause.

Carefully, quietly, you respond. “It’s not my story to tell. Ask your doctor.”

“If it’s not your story, where are the others? Can they tell it? Are they alive?”

Steve is more perceptive than you counted on judging by your slight head shake.

You flop yourself backward in the seat.

Steve was right. It’s not a what you act for, it’s a who. And they are dead.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” he says earnestly.

This—that simple sentiment—gets the greatest reaction so far. Your lip twitches, and you shimmy against the hard chair. You scratch at your wig again, before your focus returns to the table. There are tears welling in your eyes.

No one has said that before now, he realizes. How long has it been since they passed? Why are you the only mourner? Why aren’t you moving on?

Suddenly, irritation stirs in Steve, and he can’t believe how stubborn you’re being when he is your best option. He is the only one that will have this soft spot for you, the only one who truly wants to help because he truly wants to know why.

“So you’re avenging,” he bursts, tossing his arms out, dramatically looking around the bland room.

Protocol dictated they take you to the nearest precinct for questioning. Only if you were enhanced, only if you had special abilities would you be transported all the way to the compound. So on his night off, while attending a party that actually entertained him for once, you’ve shown up with a syringe that doesn’t do anything and made him miss the fireworks. You’ve made him lose time being content, a rare gift in his line of work.

Steve is frustrated, to say the least. He stands to pace his side of the table.

“Avenging, huh? Gosh, I wish I knew anything about that… anyone in this building even… wherever will we find someone who understands?”

“You don’t do sarcasm very much, do you?” you snip, energy level remaining low compared to his spiked bluster. “I’d like to tell ‘bad cop’ what a terrible dancer you are now. He’s not going to be surprised you made me cry, is he? That’s probably normal, too.”

“Surprised? No.” Steve knocks on the mirror, sick of playing, sick of being wrong, sick of choosing unwisely. “How could he be when he’s been listening this whole time?”

You’re trapped, but you aren’t acting like a caged animal. Something is…off, and Steve realizes he’s too close to the situation—ridiculous as that may be—after just two hours of knowing you. His best friend will have better luck.

Bucky opens the door a few seconds later, armed to the teeth as an intimidation tactic.

It’s disconcerting that your expression brightens once a man sporting three guns and—counting the hidden few—eight knives enters the room. That’s got Steve’s attention.

“So she’s giving you trouble?” Bucky mutters.

He’s grateful Buck doesn’t go the ‘you sure can pick ‘em, Rogers’ or ‘better luck next millennium’ route. Steve shakes his head.

You itch at your wig, face twisted, and glance up at Steve.

“May I take this off?”

Still polite. The niceties are actually making his blood boil at this point because he does not get it yet.

“Fine,” he snaps, rolling his eyes when Bucky purses his lips at Steve’s tone.

“Listen, doll, I think the best course of action is to let you stew in here for a while. When you’re ready to tell us what you know, then—“

“Oh, I can tell you what I know now,” you say casually, pulling out bobby pin after bobby pin to tuck between your teeth. “I know the protocol for a low-level threat like myself is the nearest local law enforcement facility, I know that—due to an unfortunate instance of food poisoning from a birthday cake earlier today—most of this precinct is empty. I know that all three of you would prefer to incapacitate your targets rather than kill them.”

You set the little pile of pins down on the table by your undone chain, pulling a hair comb from the back of your wig to finally release it.

“There’s only two of us here,” Steve says in confusion.

“No.” You point the forked hair comb at Bucky and push yourself out of the chair. “Winter’s in there.”

Before the words can even register, you slam the tines of the tuning fork against the edge of the steel table. The noise is piercing and specific.

Steve covers his ears, but Bucky doesn’t move. He can’t turn away from you.

“Restrain him,” you order, “and get me out of here.”

“Buck, wait—“

The vibranium arm threatens to crush Steve’s windpipe as the force slides him up the mirrored wall.

The Winter Soldier’s cold, vacant grey eyes watch as Steve’s vision fades to black, and Steve wonders how the hell he could be so wrong.

Then it’s quiet and he wonders no more.

A/N: This story is a doozy, gang, but I promise, explanations are ahead!

[Next Part]

Taglist (please let me know if you want added or removed): @supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @deandreamernp @darsynia

[Main Masterlist]

#steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #villain!reader #bittersweet symphony writing challenge #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers x you #steve rogers angst #winter soldier bucky barnes #captain america fanfiction #captain america x you #captain america x reader #captain america angst #time and tines

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secret-gardens-inmy-mind · 15 days

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All the Young Dudes

The heartfelt, nostalgic and tragic story of the marauders

The first book I finished this summer was a story called "All the Young Dudes", which is set in the Harry Potter universe and follows the seven years in Hogwarts of the Marauders and the first Wizarding War. It is told by the perspective of (my personal favourite) Remus Lupin. Since this was a long read, I was a little hesitant to start it because it requires commitment, but now that I have I can confidently say it has changed my life.

The Marauders caught my attention from the first time I read the HP books and the characters have always been my favourites. They are formed by: James Potter (Harry's father), Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. The author of this story does an amazing job of submerging the reader into the world of the 70s, which is the time period when they attend Hogwarts, capturing the essence of their friendship and mischief. She creates a heartfelt aura in writing how they met, their well-crafted character development throughout the years, how their relationships with different people developed, the pranks they got up to and the creation of what any HP fan knows as "The Marauder's Map".

The story delves deep into themes of friendship, love, and loss, offering a richly detailed backstory that makes us feel more attached to characters that were mentioned briefly in the original series. We see their friendship grow and strengthen as the Marauders support Remus with his "furry little problem". The author makes you feel connected to the characters, so even though you know it ends tragically, you can't help but laugh, cry and feel everything along with them. It is so richly written that it paints a vivid picture in my head of the fierce world they lived in at the time.

This story made me feel every single emotion possible, including love, loss and resilience, which are woven throughout the story making it both heartwarming and heartbreaking. Because when you finally reach to the tragedy that befalls them, it becomes so much more sorrowful now that we got to know them, but that adds to the emotional impact it has on its readers.

Finally, it has a love story that rendered me completely speechless. In the only way I can think to describe it is that they are soulmates. It is a deeply moving and essential piece of the narrative. The way the author portrays their relationship from the beginning when they are 11 and they become friends, to their realization of their feelings for each other and learning to handle them. They both find solace and strength in each other but it's far from perfect. The author does not shy away from the difficulties they each have to work on or how their love becomes all-consuming that it can be ugly. But in the way that it's okay for love to be ugly. That's something this story has taught me, it's okay for love to be ugly, because it's not always going to be perfect and it's actually in the ugly moments when it matters most. They have both gone through so much internal and external struggles that their passion for each other is their safe-haven. It shows their relationship as something they must work on and fight for, and that makes it all the more compelling and realistic.

All the Young Dudes captures that bittersweet essence of growing up during a time of darkness and war. It teaches us to live in the moment and appreciate every day as it comes. Now that I've finished it, I have oficially gone back into my harry potter phase and the marauders will always hold a special place in my heart.

"Anything for our moony" <3

#all the young dudes #atyd #marauders #marauders era #dead gay wizards from the 70s #wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #peter pettigrew

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elizaleclerc · 4 months

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HI MY LOVEEEE

first off all I'd like to say i love your work so much, can you do a max x reader where she's griend with carlos gf alex, max's just like freshly broke up and reader has like the biggest fattest crush on him and i trust you to end this fic in anyway you'd like

hello gorgeous (i see ur typo dw love), i'm combining this request with another one i got (the lovely anon that sent one about watching reader perform at a recital). tweaking these ideas a little and instead of it being reader im making it a fem oc AND turning it into a series!! absolutely stoked ab this idea and hope you both love it <3

the dying swan 🩰

(part one)

max verstappen x female original character

summary: as ballerina madeline moreau prepares her final dance as a bachelor's student, her good friend charles invites her to her first grand prix in monaco, where she sparks up a relationship with her crush max.

song: le cygne by saint-saëns

author's note: haven’t written a fic with a fem oc on here so im a little nervy. i adore this concept so i hope u like it too :,) this will have multiple parts (not sure how many yet), so stay tuned! xoxo

word count: 2.3k

As Madeline Moreau prepared for her final performance towards earning her Bachelor's in performing arts, she carefully laced the ribbons of her ballet shoes around her ankles. The soft pink fabric contrasted against her pale skin, adding to the ethereal quality of the dance she was about to perform. Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the studio and began the grueling practice session for "The Dying Swan". This solo dance was known to be one of the most challenging variations, but Madeline had purposefully chosen it as her final piece. Ballet had been her life since she was a young child, and completing a Bachelor's degree in this intense passion meant everything to her. As she gracefully moved across the studio floor, every stretch and turn was executed with precision and emotion, conveying the story of a swan's final moments beautifully through movement and music.

Her heart's deepest desires yearned for her to dance under the sparkling lights of the Paris Opera Ballet. Growing up in the enchanting country of France, she would often sit in front of her television, mesmerized by the grace and agility of the ballerinas on stage. She imagined herself twirling and leaping alongside them, a part of the grandeur and beauty that captivated her every time.

Already she had scouts eyeing her for various ballet companies through France, companies that would bring her massive attention and fame in the dancing world. She could already imagine the opportunities waiting for her in her home country, the chance to dance on grand stages and gain worldwide recognition. As she began her first practice that morning, thoughts of fame and success swirled through her mind like ribbons caught in a gentle breeze. Each stretch and exercise was calculated, each muscle carefully worked as she prepared for the challenging routine ahead. Her ankles, strong and supple, were crucial to executing the entire dance en pointe, with grace and precision that would captivate audiences. This was her passion, her art, and she was determined to master every aspect of it.

Madeline's body moved gracefully to the familiar notes of her favorite dance theme. As she moved across the studio floor, she couldn't help but feel a bittersweet ache in her heart. This was her final performance as a student ballerina, and just as the swan dies in the dance, she too would soon be bidding farewell to her youth as a performer. But with each precise movement of her arms and each delicate arch of her feet, she knew that something new and beautiful would be born from this ending - a career as a professional dancer. And as she gracefully folded her arms into her torso, it felt as though she was shedding an old skin and emerging anew, like a majestic swan taking flight once again.

With each graceful, extended step, Madeline could feel her ankles straining and trembling beneath her. The pain was excruciating, but she refused to let it show as she balanced delicately on her toes, emulating the movements of a dying swan. Her muscles burned with exhaustion, but she pushed through, determined to make every motion appear effortless and fluid.

Despite the countless blisters that formed on her feet, Madeline never uttered a complaint. She understood that to achieve true beauty and grace in her performance, she had to push her body to its physical limits. It was a constant battle between mind and body, but for Madeline, the end result was always worth the pain.

She glided through the four-minute variation with determination, her movements precise and fluid. Her instructor stood in the corner, arms crossed and a stern expression on their face. With each mistake, they scolded Madeline, pointing out every tiny detail that was not up to par. And with each correction, Madeline cursed herself for not being perfect.

As a ballerina, she had learned to be a perfectionist under the constant pressure of her instructors. But unlike others, Madeline placed all the weight of expectation on her own shoulders. She believed that this self-imposed scrutiny and criticism would propel her straight to the Paris Opera Ballet company. As she finished her routine, sweat glistening on her brow, she couldn't help but wonder if she would ever be good enough for her own standards.

After what felt like an eternity, she hung her head in defeat as the day came to a close. Learning the variation had not been the biggest challenge - it had come naturally to her - but the hours of repetition and inevitable mistakes had left her confidence bruised and battered. As she wearily made her way out of the studio and back to her small apartment, she couldn't help but wince at the painful blisters forming on her toes, a tell-tale sign of her dedication and determination to perfecting her craft.

She took her hair down out of her bun and drew herself a warm bath to ease the aching of her muscles. Just as she tilted her head back and closed her eyes in relaxation, she felt the vibration of her phone on the side of the tub.

She dried off her hands and answered the phone call, “Salut, Charles.” Her good friend Charles Leclerc spoke on the other side of the phone, asking her how she’s been and what progress she’d made on her dance. She updated him on her failures of the day, and as he had plenty of times before, he told her she was being entirely too hard on herself.

“I wanted to extend an invite to you.” His voice echoed through the phone’s speaker.

“Yes?” She urged him on.

“How would you feel about finally coming to see us race in Monaco?” He was met with silence.

“I dunno Char,” Madeline sighed, considering the opportunity. The Monaco Grand Prix was a few weeks away, and she knew how busy she would be working on her variation, and how much more progress she had to make in perfecting it.

“Cmon, it would be loads of fun.” He persisted, but yet she hesitated still. The Formula One crowd was widly different than the dance crowd she was used to. Her and Charles crossed paths several times through their youth, over time becoming closer and closer. Charles knew that Madeline was a fairly timid girl, and therefore might feel uncomfortable around the loud cars and adrenaline filled atmosphere. Madeline’s spirit was much more peaceful and slow, her entire aura radiating the serenity and calmness of ballet.

“I’ll think about it.” She finally answered, but that didn’t satisfy him.

“Every time you say that you always end up saying no.” He argued, further putting Madeline in a difficult position. “You know Max will be there.” He joked, which made her roll her eyes over the phone.

“Very funny.” Her sarcastic remark caused Charles to chuckle. He always liked to say that Madeline had a major crush on Max, but she had never even met him. Her own nerves prohibited her from reaching out. The fact that Max would be racing in Monaco and Madeline could potentially meet him almost made her more resistant to go. “Who would I be staying with?”

“During the race you could stay up in the balcony with my family and friends. Alex will be there as well. You’d be in good company, Madeline.” Charles was making a good argument. Madeline adored Charles’s girlfriend, Alexandra, as she was a lover of the arts and always made sure to adorn Madeline in compliments over her dancing skills.

“Fine, I’ll be there.” Madeline gave in, finally feeling excited with the possibility of it all. She could hear Charles’s cheers in the background.

As they ended the phone call, she took a deep breath. Charles' words lingered in her mind, causing her to question her actions. He was right, of course, to tease her about seeing Max. After all, he had been her long-time crush since his impressive debut on the Formula One track. Despite the passing years and numerous offers from Charles to introduce them, Madeline had always managed to avoid meeting Max. But as her fame as a ballerina grew in France, fans began to speculate about her connection with the much more renowned Charles Leclerc.

The media had never bothered to inquire about her, yet Madeline's rise in popularity could be attributed to the relentless efforts of Charles and Alex, who took every opportunity to mention her name. As she walked through public spaces, Madeline's cheeks would flush with a mixture of shyness and discomfort, still unaccustomed to the attention that came with being associated with a famous Formula One driver. But deep down she knew that fame and recognition within the ballet world were her ultimate goals. She yearned to see her name among the ranks of the greats, and she understood that this would require adjusting to constant public scrutiny and attention.

The water in Madeline's bath slowly grew colder, but she hardly noticed as she scrolled through Instagram. With steady hands, she searched for Max's name in her following list. His profile appeared on her screen, his handsome face and perfectly curated photos drawing her in. She spent time studying each picture, taking in the details of his life that she had been missing out on. Where there used to be images of him and his girlfriend, now there were only solo shots of him posing with trophies and accolades, a clear indication to his millions of followers that they had split up. A small smile tugged at Madeline's lips, the realization that he was single igniting a spark of hope within her. But deep down, she knew that even with this new opportunity, she may not have the courage to approach him. The thought left her feeling both exhilarated and defeated all at once.

A dull, persistent ache nagged at Madeline's muscles as she trudged into the dance studio the next day. But her mind was not occupied with thoughts of rest or recovery; instead, it was consumed by thoughts of Max. She hated herself for feeling this way. For so long, her focus had been solely on dance, unable to entertain any distractions or desires for a romantic relationship.

But now, as she danced to prophetic love ballads and hopeless romantic variations, she couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to experience the type of love she often portrayed in her performances. With every step and turn, she poured all her energy into keeping her mind focused on the theme of her current variation: the dying swan. Her arms moved gracefully, mimicking the delicate movements of the bird's wings, while her fingers flicked with precision and emotion. As much as she tried to push him out of her mind, Max's image lingered in the corners of her thoughts, tainting even her most effortless movements with a bittersweet longing.

Under the watchful eye of her instructor, Madeline pushed herself to her limits, determined to improve. She gritted her teeth and forced herself through each step of the variation, her feet aching and screaming in protest. But she refused to give up or show any sign of weakness. After completing another round, she could see the concern in her instructor's eyes. "Madeline, take a moment to catch your breath. You're only on your second day, I don't want you to overdo it and injure yourself." Madeline tried to regulate her breathing and calm her racing heart. Sweat dripped down her face, mingling with the tears of pain and determination. But she knew that she had to keep going, pushing herself harder than ever before in pursuit of perfection.

She huffed and finally sat down on the chilled floor. “I don’t care, I need to be perfect or nothing.”

“That attitude will not make you ‘perfect’, you fool,” the instructor scolded, “there is no such thing as perfect. Your body needs rest. An audience can see clear as day the difference between a healthy and strong dancer and one that is barely hanging on to each movement.”

Madeline's body trembled with exhaustion as she hung her head low, trying to hide her overwhelming disappointment. The instructor's angry voice still echoed in the room, adding to the throb of pain in her feet and the twitches in her muscles. She tried to soak in their words, but her mind was foggy from the grueling practices she endured every day. Yet, she convinced herself that these struggles were just part of the ballet world. After all, the ballerinas in the most prestigious companies had gone through much worse. Madeline believed that she simply wasn't strong enough yet.

In the solitude of the studio, she pushed her body through the variation one final time. As her muscles trembled and her legs threatened to give out with every move, she couldn't tear her eyes away from the large mirror in front of her. She watched as her shaking limbs seemed to amplify the dying and fatal motions of the swan, transforming the dance into a display of intense urgency and desperation.

Beads of sweat glistened on her forehead, proof of her physical exertion. But it was the reflection in the glass that truly captured her attention. Despite the beautiful lines of her facial features, there was a hint of anguish and exhaustion in her expression. Like the dying swan she portrayed, her spirit and morale were crumbling under the weight of this performance.

part two coming soon where madeline and max actually meet! this part was rlly just a lottt of exposition :) x

#formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 #f1 fic #charles leclerc #max verstappen x oc #max verstappen x female oc #max verstappen x fem oc

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xxshewritesinblacknwhitexx · 2 years

Text

Off The Market

Chris Evans x Black Wife!Reader

WARNINGS: tipsy!Chris, mild fluff, flirting, nosy tv interviewer, very mild nudity

AUTHOR’s NOTE: An oldie from my old page, edited and brought over here. Also regardless if my fic has no smut or dark mentions, all of my work is still 18+. This isn’t apart of the Chris x Wife series I was thinking about. Just a stand alone one-shot.

BETA’d: @titty-teetee

Chris Evans was standing dressed in his best on the red carpet for the premiere of the final Avengers movie, rightfully titled, Avengers: Endgame. Tonight was going to be a little bittersweet, as this would be the last time that all six original members of the Avengers would walk the red carpet together. It was finally time for the torch, or in his case, Captain’s shield, to be passed on.

This was also Chris’ very first red carpet appearance since the two of you tied the knot a little over a couple of months ago.

Of course news had been buzzing for weeks about your very secret nuptials. People were questioning if it happened or if it didn’t happen. Paparazzi scrambled for days outside of your home in Los Angeles, trying to get a small glimpse to see if the two of you were wearing your rings. But they’d come up with nothing. Especially, since the two of you had fully relocated to his hometown in Boston.

But your wedding definitely happened, and it was definitely a secret. Your wedding was so secret, in fact, that your small group of guests, who thought they were arriving to celebrate your engagement, got the surprise of a lifetime when you showed up in your beautiful wedding dress, while you and Chris exchanged vows moments later.

Both yourself and Chris, much like most of your relationship and engagement, wanted to keep this to yourselves for a while. You just wanted to enjoy being husband and wife before the press found out and started hounding you with future plans of starting a family, which of course, you and Chris were definitely excited to be practicing. Especially the horndog that was your husband.

The two of you had a date set for when you were going to announce that you had gotten hitched, but that didn’t stop the vultures from their prying.

Chris, who smiled coyly at the flashing photographers, gave a small wave and a curt nod. He was nervous, and his anxiety was on a high level, which he tried to calm with shots of whiskey earlier with his co-stars, Jeremy Renner and Mark Ruffalo. But with every scream of the paparazzi and the surrounding fans, his nerves seemed to grow a little bit more intense.

Chris continued to make his way down the carpet, saying his hellos to his other fellow cast mates, while sharing jokes with his buddies, Anthony Mackie and Sebastian Stan. Luckily, most of the interviewers kept things professional in their questioning, only asking about the film and his future projects. Even asking him to give shout outs to other countries.

His last stop on the interview trail was with Nancy O’Dell from Entertainment Tonight. Now Chris has known Nancy for quite some time, as she’s interviewed him plenty of times in the past, but he also knew she was never too shy to get personal with him. And that scared the living hell out of him.

“Here we have Chris Evans, ladies and gentlemen,” the beautiful, older blonde celebrity anchor announced as Chris stepped up to his spot next to her. They quickly exchanged a casual hug. “How are you feeling tonight? You look amazing.”

Chris cleared his throat, nervously running a hand across his tie. “Thank you. I’m feeling pretty good. How are you?”

“I’m great, thank you.” She smiled, leaning into him. She was also a little too clingy with him at times, you’ve clearly noticed. But that was usually when you weren’t on his arm. Like tonight. “So, Chris, this is it. Final Avengers movie for you all. How did it feel to put that Cap suit back on for the last time?”

“A little tight.” Chris joked, causing Nancy to giggle softly. “No, it was amazing. Being on set with some of my best friends made for such a fun, great experience— a little bittersweet though since it’s the last time a lot of us will be in the same room with each other. But I feel we all did it justice. 10 years is a long time to be doing this, and I’m very proud of what we’ve accomplished in the end.”

“I can definitely see lots of emotions running high with everyone. Especially on this night.” Nancy stated, and Chris nodded in agreement. “Aside from the movie premiere here tonight, I really have to ask: Where is your better half? I’m surprised she’s not here with you tonight.”

Chris chuckled softly, again, running a hand down his tie. “You know, she really wanted to be here, but her schedule is just as crazy as mine. If not more, but, she’s definitely here with me in Spirit.” He gave the nosy news anchor a smile.

Well, wherever she is, we are sending her the best.” Nancy replied, reaching out to throw an arm around Chris’ shoulder. “And speaking of your better half, I feel like there are just a few things we need to get cleared up. Maybe some of those rumors you want to address?”

This time Chris let out a nervous chuckle. He knew exactly where this was headed. “That depends on what rumors you are referring to?”

“Well,” Nancy paused for dramatic effect, “is Chris Evans officially off the market?”

Yep, she went there.

“Oh,” Chris immediately jerked his head back, as he finally started to feel that whiskey warming his system. “Oh,” he repeated over and over.

“I mean, is it true?” Nancy questioned him, desperately trying to see if she could get a glimpse of the wedding ring on his left hand. Of course, it wasn’t there. You made sure of that.

“We’re not doing that.” Chris shook a finger at her, laughing.

“Why not? I know everybody at home,” Nancy pointed to the camera, “would love to know if our favorite superhero, here, finally got his happy ending.”

“Sh,” Chris shushed her, leaning to stroke her microphone. “Sh, sh, shhh.”

“He’s petting my mic.” Nancy, again, turned to the camera, giggling. She knew that she wasn’t going to get her way tonight. “So, is this your way of leaving this one alone?”

Chris looked back up at her and gave a nonchalant shrug. “I mean, you will know when it happens. But we both are happy where we are right now.”

“And that’s all that matters?” Nancy questioned, and Chris just nodded, stuffing his hands back in the pocket of his pants. “Well, we appreciate the honesty, Chris. Good luck tonight.”

“Thank you.” Chris smiled, giving her one last hug and walking away.

The moment Chris was out of the way of the paparazzi, he immediately pulled out his phone from his pocket and sent you a quick text.

dodged that bullet

His phone buzzed only seconds later with your response.

Wifey: I’m guessing you got asked & it was by Nancy wasn’t it?

yep & yep

Wifey: well it’s a good thing I have your ring with me

Chris smiled to himself, adamantly typing on his phone.

Yeah I’m going to need that back

Wifey: you’ll get it back soon

you’ll just have to take it off of me first

Chris’ phone buzzed a third time. But it wasn’t a typed response like he’d been expecting. It was a picture of you. You were currently wearing his platinum, engraved wedding ring on a necklace, secured safely around your neck, dressed in a white lace push-up bra. The barely there material stood out amongst the softness of your gorgeous brown skin.

Chris sucked in a deep breath, staring down at the image in front of him. Goddamn it, he missed the fuck out of you. He quickly started typing again.

Mrs. Evans you’re driving me fucking crazy here

Wifey: well Mr. Evans my husband just abandoned me

what’s a girl to do by herself in this big, empty house

Before Chris started typing again, the three dotted bubble —as if you were still typing— appeared on his screen. Within seconds, another photo of you showed up. This time it was a matching lace thong you were wearing.

Fuck this premiere

I’m getting on a plane

And coming home right now.

Wifey: I’ll be waiting

Chris sighed heavily, stuffing the phone back in his pocket, and immediately tried to find the nearest exit. He needed to get home to you. And he needed to get home now.

#chris evans x black!reader #chris evans fanfiction #Chris Evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x poc!reader

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skellymom · 17 days

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"Vagabonds" Chapter 19

"HEART OF THE MATTER"

Ongoing fanfic Hunter x Reader/Fem Reader/OC

Hunter meets a smuggler Nomaadi Star Woman with a powerful force sensitive teen who changes the trajectory of CF-99's lives...as they ALL try to escape from The Empire together.

To read Chapter 18 - "THE FORCE"

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/759480275949486080/vagabonds-chapter-18-the-force?source=share

Word Count: 1.9K

Background: Hunter has a heart to heart convo with LOVE. LOVE has a heart to heart covo with Mad. Sweet and emotional with a reveal (No fear dear reader: Things WILL pick up in Chapter 20!)

For anyone new to this series: "LOVE" is the nonbinary/genderfluid neurodivergent/nonverbal Force sensitive kid of the main OC of this series "Mad". For more background on LOVE, check out the introduction and past chapters leading up to this one. LOVE'S father is also mentioned in past chapters in a flashback...giving a clue as to how and why LOVE has the power they do!

Warning: Commentary of body issues, age, relationships. Mention of body parts.

(Credit: Cool dividers by @4ngelic-wh1spers @plum98 @strangergraphics-archive)

Mad emerged from the refresher, toweled off, then playfully tossed it over Tiggy. Tig rolled around inside the towel, drying her fur, then took it between her teeth and shook it. The towel slapped the sides of her head. She’d drop it, growl, bite and shake it again.

From the back of her wardrobe, Mad pulled out a black linen maxi dress. A patchwork of small multicolored fabric swatches was sewn all over it randomly. Remnants of fabric snipped from the clothing of Nomaadi family and friends. People who helped Mad escape Dathomir, deliver LOVE, and occasionally assist Mad to raise them during the rare moments the Nomaadi could gather together. Some still alive...some...had perished long ago. For the Nomaadi this was their portable family album. There was a bittersweet melancholy attached to this garment. A nostalgia so deep with this dress Mad could NEVER part with it.

She hadn’t worn it since being pregnant with LOVE and a few months after their birth...before losing some of the baby weight.

Mad glanced up and caught the vision of her naked self in the mirror.

Her breasts were getting heavier with the start of milk production...and tender. Before that they weren’t as perky as they had been in Mad’s 20’s or 30’s... now hovering just shy of 50.

She had a mature woman’s body before this “medical condition.” A spare tire around her lower midsection, just under the belly button. Leftover from carrying LOVE that never went away. And shiny stretchmarks from the original pregnancy weight loss.

There were some varicose and spider veins on Mad’s legs, mostly covered by extensive tattoos. But still visible. The occasional scar from fights, near misses, scrapes, and falls while evading enemies peppered her body.

Mad sighed. She wore a rough roadmap of life...with more to come.

Memories of Hunter worshipping every inch of her body came flooding back. The extra, marred flesh didn’t seem to bother him at all. Sure, he had plenty of scars...from battle. Those scarred parts of his anatomy were seen as glorification of enduring a war and surviving. No sense of shame came with them.

Motherhood on the other hand...not generally seen that way.

The softening of the body, especially as an older woman...aging. Mad sighed. Most societies in the galaxy tended to view this as a woman past her prime, less valued, sometimes invisible, mostly a vessel to produce a younger, more useful being and nothing else.

Would Hunter STILL find her attractive? And see past the outer meat sack to the spirit of the person within? Would he still want to hang around after whatever Mad carried within her grew to fruition and left it. Maul surely didn’t.

Men usually became suddenly fickle when the body exceeded certain...parameters of “established” body standards...

Would her body still be in full working order after all of this was over? Would she lose her independence? What would happen to LOVE if Mad was rendered incapable? Surely the Nomaadi would help care for her...

...IF there were any of her people left after the Empire scoured and colonized the galaxy...

She suddenly grew VERY wary and tired. Tiggy whined pitifully, as though she could read Mad’s thoughts.

Mad sighed and took the dress off the hangar, pulling it over her head, and let it settle over her body.

It felt comfortable. Like home. Smoothed out and covered the lumps, bumps, scars, mars...

Forgiving and embracing like a well-worn lover.

Mad ignored the wet towel on the floor and crawled into bed, hiding under the covers. She didn’t want to think about ANYTHING else for awhile. Just wanting to exist in this warm peaceful place.

Tiggy leapt up and snuggled in next to her.

Hunter rifled through his pockets, pulling out items as he thew his clothes into the washer.

The Marauder had a tiny machine, only large enough for the Batcher’s thin blacks. But the Beldame had a full-sized washer/dryer with a folding counter in one of the ships alcoves. Perfect for washing civilian clothing the Batchers had acquired since leaving the Empire.

LOVE quietly drifted by in the shadows behind him, having grabbed snacks for Omega and Sil. If it had been anyone else, they would have silently drifted by in levitation with no one the wiser...

But this was Hunter.

“That’s an interesting skill you have.” He mused as he closed the lid and watched the clothes agitate in the washer window.

LOVE stopped and levitated in place, shocked that Hunter could sense them.

“You HAD to know I would eventually figure it out.” Clothes agitating...” Do you eavesdrop on everyone often?”

NO! They Force Spoke.

“Guess I have to believe you” Hunter turned to stare into LOVE’S eyes. He leaned against the wall next to the washer and put his hand on his hip.

No pressure...

We live on this ship constantly...usually with lots of other people. Privacy is hard to find...but...SOMETIMES...every once in a while...I do it for safety reasons.

“Oh?” Hunter raised an eyebrow.

I DON’T want to know other people's PERSONAL business...eww. But...I worry about Mom. She’s been with me my whole life. More than anyone else...

LOVE trailed off and Hunter guessed this comment was telling about how little this teen’s father was present in their life.

“What are you worried about?” Hunter softened his look and tone.

I... don’t want to lose her... LOVE clutched the bags of snacks against their chest, a panicked look upon their face. I’m scared.

Hunter understood this completely. He had seen Omega worry as a small child. So many situations where she would stress about things she had little to no control over.

“Ever tell your mother about this?” Hunter offered.

No... LOVE stared at the floor

“Listen...I know I’m NOT your father...” Hunter fidgeted a bit. He wasn’t sure if he was drifting into dangerous territory with Mad’s teen.

But you COULD be! LOVE glanced up hopefully at Hunter.

Hunter was pleasantly surprised to find himself smiling a bit. He initially expected LOVE to be defensive and argumentative. However, he remembered Mad’s explanation of the Nomaadi. Family is not specific for them. It was NOT necessarily comprised of a closed group of familiar blood individuals. ANYONE could be adopted into the galaxy-wide ever-growing community of the Nomaadi family experience.

You ONLY had to be genuine and committed to belong.

“Don’t you think she should know?” Hunter advocated.

LOVE heavily considered his words.

“Talk to her, LOVE. She NEEDS to hear from you right now. She needs your support.” Hunter urged. “I think you need hers too.”

I... don’t want to be a burden. Mom has enough to worry about.

“You aren’t. Would NEVER think that.” Hunter emoted “She loves you so much.”

LOVE nodded and turned to levitate away towards Mad’s stateroom. Then stopped and glanced over their shoulder.

Hunter?

“Yeah?”

I mean it...you COULD be my father.

“Heh...thanks Kid. That means A LOT coming from you.” Hunter beamed.

Mom? LOVE reached out with The Force while standing outside of Mad’s stateroom door.

Come in. The door slid open to reveal Mad curled up in bed with Tiggy leaning against her.

Mad had rolled over to greet Love...as they WALKED into the room...

LOVE barely EVER walked anywhere. Usually, levitating was the default to avoid the tactile feeling of anything against their feet, hands, body. They even shunned touch from everyone around them, including loved ones. LOVE slowly wandered into the room, looking small, lost...a bit unsure.

Hey? Mad probed LOVE’S mind gently. Speaking in the intimate way they both have since LOVE'S birth. What’s bothering you?

LOVE slowly crawled onto the bed then asked a question Mad hadn’t heard since LOVE was a toddler...

Can I hug you?

Oh...OF COURSE! With outstretched arms, Mad beckoning her child.

LOVE slid in and embraced Mad, gently closing Tiggy in between them. The dog rolled onto her back and let all four legs dangle down like a person resting on the mattress. A contented groan escaped her snout.

Mad warmly wrapped her arms around LOVE, closed her eyes, and drank in the sensation of how her child felt in her arms. It had been SO LONG since she felt this. Mad held back strong emotional tears.

It felt WONDERFUL!

Mad waited patiently for LOVE to speak.

Finally... I’m...scared.

You heard the conversation earlier, didn’t you? With your “Force Ears?”

LOVE nodded silently.

I know you can do that. Don’t always know when you do it...

Not often. Promise.

Hmm. Hunter and I were going to tell you, Omega and Sil soon. We just needed to process...EVERYTHING.

Hunter told me to come clean and talk to you. Sooner than later.

He did, did he? Mad grinned

Can we adopt him? And Omega...and their brothers?

I’ll think about it. Mad smirked, then sighed. About the... Mad motioned to her very swollen belly. Symbiont...or WHATEVER is in THERE...I think I’m going to live. Don’t think the doctor...intentionally...implanted anything evil or dangerous. But I wasn’t prepared for what Hunter had to say. We're going to get this straightened away tomorrow at the extraction point. I CAN’T wait though...it’s sitting on my bladder! Sorry...

Mad extracted herself from Love, Tiggy, and the bed quickly. Got up and hurried to the bathroom.

LOVE waited for Mad’s return and glanced down at Tiggy, who continued to lay on her back.

You KNOW something. You sense it. That’s why you’re cuddling with Mom so much.

Tiggy glanced up at LOVE, wagging her tail in the affirmative.

What do YOU know that we don’t???

Tiggy smiled in the way dogs do, still wagging her tail, but giving up NONE of her secrets.

Mad returned to her bed and snuggled in with LOVE. They lay there for quite a while, each in their own headspace and silent.

Hey... Mad whispered with the Force.

Huh? LOVE murmured back.

I love you with everything I’ve got. And, I’ve NEVER regretted having you. No matter what happens...don’t you EVER forget it. Mad squeezed LOVE.

LOVE was extremely touched and emotionally unable to speak...even with the Force. However, Mad could FEEL the depth of their emotions. No words needed to be spoken; the feelings were enough.

Eventually, both LOVE and Mad drifted off to sleep...with Tiggy sandwiched between them.

While Mad slept....

LOVE dreamed.

A shapeless, formless darkness. Nothing concerning or terrifying. On the contrary, a peaceful, watery darkness...with the constant sound of a warm heartbeat. There were others with them in the darkness. Small forms fluttering around LOVE. Sliding by and acknowledging their presence like it was as natural as belonging to this place. This watery, salty home...like the dark, warm depths of an ocean. They communicated wordlessly, soundlessly in kinship. No malice or otherness. They belonged here for the time being, while LOVE was just visiting temporarily. They accepted LOVE occupying space among them in these depths. Swimming up to them in greeting. Regarding LOVE with interest...

LOVE startled awake with their head resting against Mad’s swollen belly. During the nap, LOVE had slid down and curled around their mother. Mad continued to snore softly.

LOVE glanced down at Tiggy. My brothers and sisters are in there...you were trying to tell us...

Tiggy wiggled in excitement.

...and Hunter’s their daddy.

Tiggy rolled over and licked LOVE’S face enthusiastically.

LOVE was elated...but then realized that they COULDN’T part with these babies. For SO many years Mad and LOVE ferried people...mostly children across the galaxy to safe houses and families on other planets. Some living with other Nomaadi when there were no other viable options. They were unable to keep any of them in their daily lives.

But THESE children...they personally BELONGED to THEM.

LOVE gently woke Mad up and gave her the news.

I...DON’T understand. HOW? Mad rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

Tech might know. He’ll explain the logical part. I can do the rest. LOVE offered.

LOVE got up from the bed and levitated out of the stateroom to find the rest of the crew.

To read Chapter 20 - "DIFFICULT CHOICES":

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/761407251706707968/vagabonds-chapter-20?source=share

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thisaccountisagainstmywill · 5 months

Text

Losing my mind re-reading this. Needs to be launched from the nest finally. Chapter One of a character exploration series framed around some of the more meaningful lays in Rugan's life. Following him from Age 19 up to before the game. A new lay every episode. Pairing: Rugan/Original Female Character

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Rugan is 19, struggling with life in a small town. He's heard rumors his last friend is about to leave for a better life and now he needs just one more night to say goodbye.

Tags: Established Relationship, Goodbye Sex, Pre-Canon, Cunnilingus, Bittersweet, Penis in Vagina Sex, Banter, Young Rugan

Word Count: 5,568

Below the cut or on AO3

The 20th of Kythorn, 1461 – The Year of the Goddesses Blessing Hilp, Cormyr Evening

The small town’s tavern was full to bursting with a swell of bodies and joyous noise. From corner to corner, the building is packed with festive clientele, tankards in hand. Most patrons have given up finding a seat and settled for standing where space will allow. Several disparate renditions of bawdy songs sprout in different clusters of friends and war for auditory dominance of the establishment. A bellowing voice from behind the bar shouts to keep the noise reasonable but is too happy with the booming solstice business to fight too hard against the din.

Rugan wedges in through the front doors and bodily pushes his way through the crowd. Finding footing where he can between the swell of other people, he casually nabs an arse-less stool as he passes by. Someone tries to shout after him with verbal claims, but he pretends not to hear as he hefts it over his head and carries it above the crowd to a back corner near the dusty edge of the fireplace where he can find just enough space to sit unbothered.

From his perch, he watches through the crowd as a young blonde barmaid darts between customers, weaving gracefully with more pints than he could ever understand possible in her arms. She smiles and laughs with some customers, passing out rounds to the sitting and standing alike. Tonight patrons linger with her a bit longer than usual, with fewer immediate orders and more conversation spun special just for her. She nods emphatically to some, gives modest smiles to others, and conflicted frowns to others still. Occasionally someone reaches out to hug her and when her arms are empty enough she lets them, returning the gesture graciously.

After a particularly large order, she finds a moment of respite behind the bar and hulking barkeep. With a brief stretch and deep sigh, she leans against the back counter taking a moment to nibble a likely stale bun and gulp down a half-watered ale. – Just enough ale to keep her friendly. More than enough water to keep her upright in the heat. And a bun just stale enough to sponge them both and keep her from pissing like a horse every hour. – She had emphatically defended her method to the young man once with no lack of self-certainty when he scoffed about how awful her on-the-job meal choices were.

While the barmaid waits for the next deliveries to be readied, she readjusts her hair, grabbing loose strands and fitting them back in place in her low bun. She complained to him once she thought her hair looked like straw– but he thought it looked like the first rays of sunlight casting through the trees in bright golden streams. It made him think of the peacefulness of dawn, the comfort of home, and how she always smelled like spring. The corners of his eyes crinkle as an unconscious smile pulls at his lips. He would never tell her, she’d only add this small poetic streak to the sprawling list of things she chose to tease him about already. It was a happy thought he would keep to himself and safely contained to his daydreams of her.

Her brief break ends as she’s passed a fistful of pints and a steaming plate of roast. He loses sight of her in the crowd but finds her again as she pushes her way along the outskirts on her way back to the bar.

As she swings close enough, he catches her by the wrist and gently yanks her to his isolated corner.

“Hey! No touchi–,” Furiously, she spins to face him, her free hand raised and ready to strike. The moment she recognizes him the rage melts away to a coy smile. “Rugan!” Her voice is still irritated but drops playfully. She brings her poised hand down to his cheek and lightly slaps him.

“Good evening to you too,” He laughs and releases his hold on her. With an exaggerated frown, he rubs the lightly reddening spot on his cheek. “You’re going to owe me for that one. Could’ve done some major damage to my best asset, Sanya.”

“It’s your onlyasset.” She says with mock sternness, placing her hands squarely on her hips.

Rugan cocks his head and raises an eyebrow, “That’s not what you were saying la—.”

Sanya threatens him with a withering look.

He holds his tongue but gives her a wicked smile.

“Sanya! I need you back here now!” The barkeep shouts, his voice just deep enough to carry over the crowd.

Sanya glances at the crowd and back to Rugan. “Look, I’m still working. I don’t have time to gab with you.”

The smile slides off Rugan’s face. “I didn’t think you’d be working tonight. What time is he letting you go?”

“Usual time.” She frowns. “Are you going to be a customer or a nuisance tonight?”

Both, he wants to say, but even he knows better at the moment. “If I could get my usual, I’ll wait around until you get off.”

“Aye? I bet you will.” She winks and gives him a cocky chuckle. There’s a sadness in her eyes, but before he can do anything about it she disappears back into the crowd and returns to her duties.

♦ ♦ ♦

Rugan waits patiently for another three hours, nursing a pint, and a plate of whatever Sanya can weasel away from the kitchen. At one point he joins in on the bawdy singing, adding his own spin to the lyrics and making eye contact with his favorite lass whenever she dares to look his way. He sings himself hoarse for the briefest slivers of her attention. Each time, she rolls her eyes with a smile and continues about her business with a shake of her head.

When the crowd thins down to just him and a few low-energy regulars, the barkeep waves Sanya over. He throws a sad glance towards Rugan sitting with his empty pint held on the stool between his knees. With a nod to the lonely boy, he quietly tells her, “Go on then, dear. I can take it from here.” The old man passes her a small satchel with her pay of the day and a little extra. “All the blessings on you for your adventure.”

She thanks the large man with a tender pat on his hand and turns back to Rugan.

Rugan stands, placing his empty mug on the stolen stool behind him. With a few long strides across the near-empty room, he has her in his arms. He steals a quick kiss before he lowers himself to wrap his arms around her waist and raises her up so he can gaze up at her. She places her hands on his shoulders to steady herself and smiles down at him. Backlit by the chandelier, loose strands of hair frame her like a glowing halo.

My sunrise. He thought, but then the realization set in.

For the first time ever, she didn’t argue or fight back when he kissed her with an audience. He knows in his heart now, that the rumors were true: tonight was goodbye.

♦ ♦ ♦

The two slip away into the festive night but don’t make it far before Rugan becomes impatient. He pulls her aside around the edge of the tavern’s alley. Tucked out of sight, the words come tumbling from his lips. “When are you leaving? Where are you going?”

“Tomorrow morning, at the arse crack of dawn. I’ve got my passage secured on a caravan passing through from Arabel. We’ll head south of the Storm Horns and head westward. I’m thinking I’ll see what I can find in Elturel and if there’s nothing there for me I’ll head westward still.” She shrugs casually like she’d practiced the speech a thousand times and gave it a thousand times more today.

“When were you going to tell me?” His voice wavers.

“I did tell you. You didn’t believe me.” She tries to put on a brave face, but her pale, hazel eyes are downcast.

Rugan swallows, his throat suddenly too dry to speak. He did remember that conversation. At the time he didn’t think much of it. They had both spent every day since they were at least ten complaining about how there was nothing in Hilp worth seeing. How they would go on great adventures. How they’d steal the horses from the Dzavars’ stables and run off into the night. When she told him her actual plan to leave, it simply felt like another shared daydream.

“...why are you going?” His voice cracks. Half a foot taller than her and he feels like a child trying to beg his way out of punishment.

“I can’t stay here. I need more from life than….this.” Sanya flails impotently at her smock and the buildings around them. “There's nothing here for me.”

“I’m here.” The simple words cut cold and deep.

The spark in her eyes dies for a moment, she looks like a rabbit caught in a snare, uncertain and hunting for a way out. She glances from him and down the alley, wringing her hands in the pockets of her apron. He wished in that moment he could take the words back, shove them down his throat, and choke on them before they had a chance to hurt her.

Her eyes are misty when she finally looks back at him. “Ru…” The old nickname sounds like a lament. Sanya glances away again, but this time it feels different. She breathes deeply, steadying herself, and shakes her head. “You can’t hold down a job. You were a tanner last week and you’re a cooper this week. That's no way to live. Not for me, not for you.”

It was true: he had been working odd jobs since his tenth summer. He had become good at learning quickly and on the job. Even so, each job would last only as long as an employer would tolerate him before his mouth got him in trouble – which wasn’t nearly long enough in a town this small.

He reaches out to her, placing a pleading hand on her upper arm. Against her better judgment, she welcomes the warmth of him and leans into his touch.

“Sonderson got a more permanent apprentice from the city and Jandal needed someone after the last boy lost a finger and refused to come back. I go where the work is. Where people need me. Some people say that makes me a handy man to have around.” His face softens as he tries to reassure her with a smile, but he can’t quite manage it.

She chuckles at him, placing a hand over his. “I think you misheard them, you’re a handsy man, Ru.”

“Aye. That I am.” He moves closer to her, leaning to place his forehead against hers. With his free hand, he strokes her hair gently. For a long moment, they stand silently together in that alley. The sounds of the hamlet’s solstice celebrations wind down to near silence.

Rugan pulls away first to look her in the eyes, as he promises, “I won’t hold you back, Sanya. I wouldn’t dare.”

He pushes a loose strand of sunshine out of her face and tucks it back behind her ear. The tension in her shoulders and the worry on her face fade away before his eyes.

“I’ve known you long and well enough to know no one and nothing in this world can.” He continues, smiling at her genuinely even as he feels his heart breaking in his chest. “Just let me have you one last time before you go.”

Please. His heart begs.

She doesn’t make him say it, the pleading was clear as day in his sad blue eyes. She pulls him down and kisses him softly and not another word is said.

♦ ♦ ♦

Rugan doesn't know how he got back to her room in the back of the tavern. His eyes were locked on her and the rest of the world and their celebrations ceased to matter. The two enter the dark room and Sanya paces quickly towards her tinder box on the far counter. While she lights a lantern, Rugan bolts the hefty door behind him. Waiting impatiently, he leans against the door while he watches her. He knew full well the moment he got his hands on her he wouldn’t be able to stop himself and the last time he had interrupted her with the tinderbox she had slightly lit both of them on fire. Scorches of that incident still stained one of the wooden countertops.

The room was cleaner now than it had ever been in the three years she lived here. It had once been an auxiliary food preparation room when there was hope left that Hilp could be more than it was always doomed to be, and now the room served only as staff quarters and storage. Remnants of its hopeful origins decorate the room with counters and excessive wall shelving. The in-use bed lay half made by the door, others stacked against the wall and out the way. A tub lay to the side partially filled from the day before, with a jug of fresh water between it and a washing basin. Sanya’s scant belongings had been pulled off the shelves and packed neatly in a traveler's bag next to the door with her road clothes laid out next to it.

As she closes the lantern, he slides behind her. She barely manages to snuff the match and push the tinderbox away before his hands are on her. He begins at her shoulders stroking his way down to her waist where he deftly unties her apron, letting it tumble to the floor.

“Rugan…” she rasps and leans back into him.

His hands continue downwards, tracing her hips with his palms and coming to rest at the top of her thighs. With a twist of his fingers in the fabric, he pulls her skirts up one fistful at a time.

“I've been sweating all day...” Sanya protests weakly but grinds her ass back into him and his growing hardness.

“I don't mind.” He kisses the back of her neck.

“I should bathe before tomorrow…” She tries to reason.

He smirks against her skin. “You'll want to bathe when I'm done with you, anyway.”

With her skirts lifted he slides his hands beneath the fabric and kneads her hips and cheeks, tracing the line of her underclothes. Whimpering, she leans forward against the counter to brace herself as he works over the tight muscles of her backside, easing the ache of the day away. Rugan ruts against the cleft of her ass, erection straining against the ties of his trousers. He bites back a moan at the sweet friction.

Sanya reaches behind her grabbing for his bulge. Her fingertips grazed the head of his cock through his pants and bucks at the sudden touch.

Quickly, he snatches her seeking hand. Rugan leans over, pressing her chest flat to the counter beneath his muscled torso. “Not yet.” He rumbles into her ear, sending a blissful shiver down her spine.

She huffs, squirming impatiently and grinding back into him for more.

Rugan pushes the lantern to the side and steps back. Before she can protest the loss of him, he turns her around and picks her up with an arm beneath her thigh and another around her waist. Then he hefts her onto the counter facing him. He slides between her legs, running his fingers over her knees and thighs. She grabs for him twisting her fist into his shirt to pull him into a kiss, and locking him close with her ankles behind his thighs. He presses back into the kiss, groaning as she tugs at his lip with her teeth.

He reaches behind himself unlocking her legs to slide her boots off, dropping them to the floor behind him.

She uses the brief distraction to release his shirt. Her hands fly immediately to tug again at the ties of his breeches.

Rugan pulls her hands off him, lacing his fingers through hers and holding them out to the side. “I told you not yet.” He growls and kisses her roughly.

Sanya struggles against his grip as he holds her in place, kissing along the lobe of her ear and down to her neck. She manages to slip one hand free of his, palming his erection through his trousers while she grasps again for the ties. Before he can grab her again, she manages to pull the knot undone.

Holding her tightly by the wrist, he growls against her neck, “Do that again and I’ll tie you up.” Unable to help himself, he presses his straining bulge against the heat of her spread legs

“That’s hardly a threat. I know how shite your rope work is.” Sanya smirks defiantly and groans as she rolls her hips against him.

He releases her hands and grabs her by the chin, kissing her until she’s quiet. She was right, his knotwork was sloppy and getting better but it wouldn’t do to argue now.

Sanya places her hands against his chest while she returns his kiss. She slides them against the width of his pectorals, admiring the firmness of his muscled chest.

Rugan keeps his hand on her chin, pressing through her parted lips to roll his tongue over hers. With his other hand, he ventures beneath her skirt, slipping his fingers beneath the waistband of her panties. With her hands on his shoulders, she uses the leverage to lift herself just enough to let him slide the fabric over the curve of her ass and down to her shapely thighs. He slides out from between her legs, breaking the kiss to take a step back far enough to pull her smallclothes down the rest of the way.

Her face flushed and her lips swollen red from kissing, she watches him with half-closed eyes as he lets the garment slip from his fingers and fall to the floor. She holds his gaze while she takes her hair down, shaking golden waves free. He takes a moment to memorize the sight of her: Flushed, legs spread, skirt up around her hips, cunt slick with need and shining in the lantern light.

He was going to miss her.

Rugan presses forward, pulling her flush to him at the edge of the counter. He rests his hands on her strong thighs as he captures her mouth with his. She grinds against him, her wetness streaking the front of his breeches. At this moment he couldn’t care, pressing his bulge against her. He slides one hand to the back of her head, winding his fingers in her hair. His kisses trail from her lips and down the line of her jaw to her neck.

He nips her, sucking roughly at the skin of her neck.

Sanya moans loudly, as the sensation sends a wave of pleasure through her. “No marks.” She orders through the haze.

Rugan releases the suction and instead presses gentle kisses along the graceful line of her neck, down her collarbone, and to the top of her blouse. He can’t help but grin as she tugs the top of her blouse down for him, exposing her perky breasts to him. Taking the hint he trails kisses to the peak of one. He pauses, glancing up at her before flicking a tentative lick across the pink bud. With a gasp, she grabs him by the back of the hair and presses his face into her tits. He opens his mouth, sucking the nipple in and rolling his tongue over the hard peak. She moans, bucking her hips against him. He slides a hand up her thigh, holding her in place at the hip while he lavishes her with flicks of his tongue. His other hand trails up her side, firmly grabbing the other breast.

“Please,” She whines. “Please fuck me...”

He pulls away, pressing a forceful kiss against her mouth. “Hush.” He orders.

She locks a leg over his hip and grinds against the fabric of his trousers, protesting his authority silently. He couldn’t help but thrust back, precum leaking from his throbbing cock and soaking through his own smallclothes.

He wanted to give in so badly, to plunge himself to the hilt in her soft folds. To feel the way her walls fluttered against his cock, to hear her cry out when he thrust so deep she swore she saw stars. But he wanted to remember her and the way she tasted.

Rugan pulls away from her mouth, pressing rough kisses into the breast in his hand. He gives it a parting nip that elicits a startled gasp.

Before she can complain, he sinks to his knees before her, pressing wet kisses on the inside of her leg from the top of her high socks to the inside of her hip. He lingers here, pressing his face into the crevice between cunt and leg. He can feel the heat off her core, wet and wanting. Savoring the feeling, he groans against her skin sending low rumbles through her. She bucks against him.

“Please…” She begs again.

Rugan ignores her pleas, swapping to the other leg to plaster it with kisses. At the top of her thigh, he sucks the skin into his mouth until he leaves a mark. Moaning openmouthed while she watches him, she doesn’t fight it this time. She would curse him tomorrow on the road, but at least his name would still be on her lips. He changes thighs, sucking a matching welt into the soft flesh of the other leg.

“Please Rugan, just touch me, I can’t take it.” Sanya whimpers, tears brimming at the corners of her eyes. She tries desperately to roll her hips into him but he holds her down.

He gives in now, nosing through her wet curls. A quick flick of his tongue across her swollen clit sends a wave of pleasure through her. With a breathy moan, she grabs him by the back of the hair, forcing his face into her cunt. She locks her legs over his shoulder and places her free hand behind her for leverage.

Rugan obeys, eagerly lapping up the pooling slick from her folds. His nose presses against her clit, earning him ragged moans. Her thighs tighten around his head and he wraps his hands over them to keep her from locking him too tightly in place. He places his tongue flat against her entrance, licking an agonizingly slow trail up to her clit and ending with a quick flick. She bucks suddenly against him with a loud gasp, sending her juices dribbling down his chin.

“More...” She sobs, desperately pressing his face against her.

He slides one hand up from her thigh, tracing his fingertips across the soft skin of her legs. Her skin prickles and she sighs at the softness of the touch. His hand comes to rest at her apex, his thumb pressed over her nub. With his tongue over her entrance, he slowly traces matching circles over her folds and clit, not yet willing to give her what he knows she wants.

“...you bastard…” Sanya whines breathlessly as she clenches around nothing.

Rugan smirks, plunging his tongue into her. He groans as her slick coats his tongue and he feels the subtle flutter of her wanting walls.

“Gods….yes…” She throws her head back, moaning loudly and grinding against his face. His cock twitches at the thought of being inside of her and he loses himself in her cunt, grunting loudly as he laps her wetness up. His thumb flicks quick ghosting touches over the tip of her clit while his hips rut mindlessly into nothing.

“Please…please…I need…” She chokes out broken cries, unable to form the right words.

He knows what she needs. Rugan pulls his hand away from her clit, replacing it with his mouth. He folds his tongue to cradle her clit, sucking at it hungrily. Deftly he rearranges the position of his arm beneath her thigh, sliding his fore and middle fingers into her. She shudders with relief at the sensation of finally being filled. He thrusts in and out of her slowly, gathering slick before he presses deeper. His fingers curl upwards, firmly stroking her walls until he finds the sweet spot.

The grip on his hair tightens as he finds it and she gasps and arches her back. Her pussy clenches tight around his digits. He picks up his pace now, flicking quick licks across her nub and thrusting his fingers firm and steady against her core.

She groans, rocking her hips into his face. Her cunt squeezing tighter and tighter around his fingers. His erection throbs painfully in his pants. Desperate, he releases her thigh, clumsily undoing the strings of his trousers while he lavishes her clit with swirling licks.

After a moment of blind fumbling, his cock springs free and so needy the cool air on his precum-soaked shaft sends a tremble through him. He palms himself for some relief, spreading precum over his shaft and pulling the foreskin back over the swollen head. The friction causes him to nearly spill then and there.

Not yet. Not yet. Not yet. He pleads with himself, tightening his fist around his cock.

Rugan turns his focus back to Sanya, flicking his tongue over her clit while he pressed firmly at her core just the way he knew she liked. He needed her to come before he spilled on the floor. He needed to be inside of her. He needed her. He chokes back a sob as he sucks desperately at her nub. His fingers pick up their pace as he feels her cunt grip him tightly. Her breath hitches as her thighs flex. His vision darkens as she squeezes tightly around his head. He maintains the pace of his fingers, pressing his tongue flat across her clit.

The hand she was steading herself with jolts forward, gripping the edge of the counter for dear life as wave after wave of bliss runs through her. Rugans leans his face against her soft curls, thrusting steadily into her with his fingers until she releases her grip around his head with her legs. The blood rushes back to his head and he takes the opportunity for a cheeky lick at her cunt, startling her with a jolt of overstimulated pleasure. She pulls him back by the back of his hair, forcing him to look up at her.

He smirks up at her, with red lips and his chin smeared in her wetness.

It takes her a moment to catch her breath. She looks down at him, still lust-hazed. “Take your fucking pants off and get in that bed.” Sanya manages to gasp out as she moves her legs from over his shoulders.

“Yes, ma’am.” He teases, knowing full well how very much the term grated on her.

She releases her grip on his hair, giving him a sharp slap to his cheek. “Now,” She orders, “Before I change my mind and kick you out instead.”

Rugan stands, chuckling while she eases herself off the counter. The moment her feet touch the floor, he pulls her in for a quick kiss, slipping his tongue into her mouth. She moans into it, enjoying the taste of herself on his lips. He places a hand behind her waist, trying to press their bodies together.

Sanya jerks back, pushing him away with a firm palm against his chest. “Don’t you dare wipe cum on my clothes right before I leave.”

“Slipped my mind, love.” Rugan smirks and kicks her abandoned boots out of his path as he saunters backward. His turgid cock jutting out from the opening of his pants and bobbing with each step.

She knew better than to believe him. The asshole had done it more than once. With a glare, she turned her attention to unlacing her bodice before he had a chance to ruin it.

Rugan kicked his boots off and haphazardly to the side, watching her intently as she pulled her laces free from their fixtures and let the bodice fall freely to the floor beneath her. He backs up towards the bed, pulling his breeches and underclothes down in one go, tossing them to the side with his boots.

Sanya follows him across the room. Her eyes trace hungrily from his throbbing erection to his smug face as she pulls her blouse off. With a wink, he pulls his shirt off and tosses it across the room.

When he reaches her low-lying bed, he sits down against the headboard. With a hand loosely around his cock, he strokes himself lazily while watching Sanya remove her layered skirts. Releasing their ties, she lets them pool to the floor where she stands before she gets into bed.

Sanya joins him on the bed, throwing a leg over his thigh to straddle him. Tenderly she brings a hand to his cheek, running her fingertips over the thin scruff. A mixture of emotions paints her face as she traces the contours of his jaw. The sadness in her eyes makes his heart ache. He opens his mouth to beg her to stay, but she catches his open lips with hers, driving the words from his mind. She moves her hands to his shoulder and she braces herself as she slides slowly onto his cock. They both groan loudly into the kiss as she adjusts to accommodate his girth.

Rugan clenches his eyes shut, gripping her tightly by her ass cheeks as she takes him to the hilt. Desperate and already too close, he holds her still. Leaning his head back against the wall, he pulls away from the kiss, savoring the relief of her wet cunt around him finally.

“Gods, you’re going to be so popular…” Rugan gasps, running his hands across the soft skin of her thighs.

With a frustrated glare, Sanya places her hand over his mouth and hisses at him, “Just shut up and fuck me. Before you ruin it, prick.”

He grimaces at his idiocy but obeys. He slides his hands to her back, wrapping one behind her waist and another at her shoulder as he thrusts up into her. She moans, leaning forward leaning her chest against his. The hand on his mouth slides to his shoulder, nails digging into the skin as she rolls her hips down to meet his thrusts. Strong arms pull her close, crushing her against him while he pumps up into her tight cunt desperately. His cock throbs and he can hold back no more. Rugan buries his face against her neck as the muscles of his core tighten. “I…” He whimpers against her skin.

“Yesss…” She pants.

Rugan squeezes her tightly, holding her in place as his thrusts become sloppy and erratic. With a final thrust, he cries out loudly as he spills inside of her. His grip on her slackens. His hands slide across her smooth skin sending delightful shivers through her.

Sanya whispers gentle kisses across his cheeks as she lifts her hips only to sink back down onto his waning erection. Their mingled fluids drip out of her and across his groin. He runs his fingers up her back and into her hair, running his nails across her scalp. She moans, arching back into his touch while he tries to memorize the sight of her spread across him. His chest aches and he pulls her in, kissing her deeply.

♦ ♦ ♦

Cleaned enough, Rugan lays on his back with Sanya tucked against the side of him. “I'll make something of myself.” He whispers into her hair, tracing patterns into the bare skin of her back.

“I know you will," she murmurs into his neck. He feels a smile form, pressed against his skin, and knows immediately that she’s thought of something dumb.

“Well then, out with it.” He braces himself for a joke.

“It's bad.”

“It always is.”

She hits him playfully but shares her joke anyway. “You're going to make everyone Ru the day they ever met you.”

He shakes his head. “How long have you been holding onto that one?”

“Ten years, give or take.”

“With jokes like that maybe it is a good thing you are leaving.” He scoffs. But the flippancy doesn’t stop how much the realization hurts.

♦ ♦ ♦

Midmorning shines through the battered shutters. Rugan watches dustmotes float in the streaks of light as he lazily traces the space where Sanya had laid next to him. True to her word she had left before sunrise without fuss. Rugan cursed himself for not being able to stop her. Drunk on the afterglow of her, he had slept peacefully deep and hadn't noticed as she got out of bed, bathed, and went to meet her caravan with her life on her back.

Now he was left with only the consequences of who he was: unwanted, alone, poor… and about to be fired again. He had been due at work at least three hours ago, the final allowed error after a string of last chances from every farmer and tradesman who could still find pity for the boy who got left behind.

He needed to get the fuck out of Hilp.

#Young Rugan #bg3 rugan #rugan #bg3 #bg3 fic #pre-canon #bg3 pre-canon #nsft #fic: One For the Road

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aheckinmess · 13 days

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Hide and Seek -> Pt. 1 [Hawks] (Fluff)

(One-shot 25/? in a collection of My Hero Academia one-shots posted regularly on Saturdays - and sometimes Sundays.)

Read on AO3.

Tags: Keigo Takami, Takami Keigo, Hawks, Original Female Character(s), Ichijiku Aoki, Tigress, Fluff, Angsty Fluff, There's a Little of Both Okay, It's Bittersweet, Pining Hawks, Childhood Friends to Lovers, It's Actually So Cute, Takami - Keigo's Father Mentioned, Tomie Takami Mentioned, Bookstore is Mentioned, OC Works at a Bookshop, She Lives in Kamino Ward, The Bad Part of Town, Hawks Gets Protective, Pinky Promise, I'm Bad at Tagging, But I Blame That on the Fact that You Kinda Need to Read the Prompt Itself to Understand, What Else Do You Want from Me?

Word Count: 3,137 words

Summary: Hawks' childhood was not unlike that of Ichijiku Aoki, and she would know because she was his best friend. Ten long years after leaving her to train and be a hero, Hawks suddenly pops up in Ichijiku's life again.

Author's Note: This one-shot is a little different. Normally when I write multiple parts of a one-shot, I just include it in a separate series. However, this one just happened to run a little longer, so I decided breaking it into chunks would be helpful. I may end up deciding to make it its own series anyway, who can say? For now, you get part 1/2 of this tasty delicious prompt!

Ichijiku (Tigress)

Mommy doesn’t like emotional brats. That’s why when she and Daddy fall asleep, I sneak out the back door and start running down the trail behind our house. I make it to the broken tree before I see a blurry house.

I step closer, the house getting clearer until it’s obvious it’s more of a shack, wooden and decrepit. It looks like the perfect place to play House, or Superheroes, or even Tea Party! Looking over my shoulder, I crawl beneath a lonely window and peek in.

A little boy with red feathers looks back at me and I crouch as my heartbeat makes it hard to hear. I look up after a moment to find him when his shadow hangs out of the window above me.

“What are you doing here? You have to go before you get in trouble!” He whispers, turning over his shoulder. “My dad will be really angry if he sees you.”

“My mommy can’t find me, or she’ll whoop me good.” I hiss back.

We stare at each other for a minute before his pretty red feathers swirl around me. My face slips into a smile as I reach for it.

“This your quirk? What are they for?”

“I can move them around and hear things with them, but…Mom and Dad say they’re pretty useless.”

“Can you fly?”

“I dunno. Never tried.” He shrugs. “They don’t let me leave our house.”

“You should see if you can–” A limb snaps and both of us freeze, eyes snapping towards the sound.

“KEIGO!”

I wave at him before hopping into the closest hidey hole I see: a barrel. The loud voice inside reminds me of Mommy. I expect the yelling and the smack! that follows, as well as the sharp scolding about being respectful and listening to adults.

I’m not expecting the silence that follows to be tainted with soft sobs from the sassy little boy from the window.

It makes me sad.

I peek out of my barrel and climb out, before looking into the broken window. The boy - Keigo? - faces away from me with shaky wings. He sniffles every few seconds as I listen for footsteps, eyes latched onto the woman sleeping on a mat beside him.

When I climb through and pad over to him, I pat his shoulder and pull on his arm. He pulls back and shakes his head.

“You have to go–”

“Who are you?” A tired voice asks.

I whip my head around to find a lady and two extra eyes watching me. Those two eyes float and circle around me, coaxing me to move closer to Keigo. I swallow thickly and hide my trembling hands behind my back.

“I-I’m sorry. I’m Keigo’s friend.”

“I asked who you are, Keigo’s friend. What’s your name?”

“Ichijiku.” I answer, looking at the floating eyes. “What are those for?”

“None of your business, kid.” Dark circles line her eyes as she glares at me. “Why are you here? How do you know Keigo?”

“I just met him. I was playing Hide and Seek outside when I found this house.” I explain carefully, glancing away.

“Well, you’re not welcome here, kid. Keigo doesn’t have any friends. And if you don’t move your ass, my husband will kick you out personally.”

“Can I come visit Keigo another time if I promise not to bring nobody?” I plead.

“Tch. You can certainly try, kid.”

“Okay!” I lock her pinky with mine. “I pinky promise I won’t bring no one next time. See you later, Keigo!”

. . . . .

The next time I see Keigo, I make extra sure I don’t see any eyes as I sneak in. No one else is in the house as I tiptoe over the wooden floorboards. Keigo’s still curled up in the same spot he was before, red feathers fanned out behind his back.

“Hi, Keigo.” I whisper.

“Huh?” He turns over and his eyes widen as he jolts to a standing position. “Ichijiku?”

“Yep!”

“What are you doing here?!” He hisses, squeezing a plushie against his chest. “I told you, my dad will kill you if he sees you here!”

“He won’t see me.” I assure him. “Besides, you’re my friend! Do you wanna go play Hide and Seek outside?”

“I’m not allowed to go outside, ever.” He frowns.

“Oh.” I rub the back of my neck as I look around. “Well, do you wanna play Superheroes in here, instead?”

“What if my parents come back and you’re still here?”

“We can listen to hear when they’re coming and then I’ll go hide!” I say quickly, before I gasp and point at his feathers. “You said you can hear stuff with your feathers, right? Maybe you can listen for them?”

Keigo looks around the house one time, before he turns back to me with a smile.

“Let’s do it!”

It becomes our ritual to see each other at least once a week playing as the world’s greatest superheroes: Tiger and Birdie! Since Keigo can’t go outside and find me, I make the trek every Thursday to go visit.

Until one day I find the dilapidated shack empty.

My shoulders slump. My little legs scour the surrounding area and all over the house with no luck. No floating eyeballs. No loud, red-haired man. No Keigo.

I return to my house feeling more lonely and worried than ever. Did he leave because he got in trouble? Did I get him in trouble? Will he ever come back? A few weeks pass and answer my question. As the little shack remains vacant, it becomes clear he's not coming back.

Mommy and I are waiting for the train when I spot it.

A small, red feather.

“What the hell are you looking at? Hurry up!” Mommy jerks me forward. “Pay attention so we’re not late!”

I see Keigo huddled up against the wall with his mom and my face smiles so wide it hurts! I look up at Mommy, scrolling on her phone, and get an idea.

When the train doors open and we make it to the platform, I duck and squirm between the people behind us to wiggle back into the train station. I dart over to Keigo as soon as the train doors close.

“Keigo-kun!” I call, sliding to a stop on my knees in front of him. “I found you!”

“Ichan?” His head lifts and his eyes sparkle.

I yank him into my arms, hugging him so tight. I don’t want to let him go. I want to take him home with Mommy so that he can stay with us forever!

“Where did you go?” I whisper, pulling back and wiping my face. “Your house is empty!”

“Endeavor saved us from my dad, Ichan! Endeavor’s real! Like…really real!” Keigo exclaims, holding out his Endeavor doll. “He helped us get away from Dad!”

“Yeah, and now we’re homeless, Keigo.” His mother scoffs, turning her head away. “We have nothing. Nothing to eat, nowhere to stay. Why do you have those feathers if you’re not gonna use them?”

Keigo and I look between each other and then his mom. We remain silent. I turn back to the train to make sure my mom hasn’t come back for me yet.

She’s going to be so angry.

“Where’s your mom, Ichan?”

“I hid from her so I could say hi.” I admit, rocking back and forth on my feet. “Is this where you’re staying?”

“For now, yeah. We move around Fukuoka to find places to stay warm or get food.” He pauses to look behind me before he adds. “You’re not gonna get in trouble are you?”

“Probably. But it’s okay. Maybe…maybe if I talk to my mommy you could stay with us! And then you wouldn’t have to look for food or blankets!” I offer.

“No way, kid.” Keigo’s mom snaps. “I’m not staying somewhere with another brat to take care of and a stranger. Get lost.”

I open my mouth to disagree, but Keigo’s eyes widen and he shakes his head. He uses a feather to turn me around.

“Ichijiku Aoki!” My mom snatches me by the front of my shirt as I flinch back with scrunched eyes. “What on earth did you think you were doing? What if I hadn’t found you? Now those bastards are looking into the custody case on the grounds that I’m not a competent parent. Get your ass back on that train!”

The following pop on my butt burns, but not as much as it burns to wave goodbye to Keigo.

. . . . .

“Pardon me, ma’am. Is your daughter home?”

“My daughter? What is this about? I’ve been getting her packed to move in with her father, you bastards. Why are you here?”

I peek around the corner of the dining table as I see men in black suits talking with Mommy. My stuffed tiger stays squished against my chest as I watch them.

“Ma’am, I’m afraid you’re mistaken. We’re not here to take your daughter. We’re here because a friend of hers would like to say goodbye.”

“Who?”

When Keigo comes into view, I gasp and pop out of my hiding spot, running over to him. This time, he’s the one that pulls me against his chest.

“Did you come over to play, Keigo? I’ve got–”

“I’m sorry, young lady, but he’s not here to play. He’s here to tell you goodbye. He won’t be speaking to you anymore.” A man behind him says.

Keigo stands there with his feathers looking sad. They drag on the ground as he tilts his head down.

“He…” I look at Keigo. “I won’t get to see you again? Never ever?”

“Not never ever!” He says confidently, lifting his head. “Just…not for a long time. It’s like Hide and Seek. But this time, I’ll be the one to find you.”

“You pinky promise?” I ask, holding out a small digit while my eyes burn. Sticky tears dry on my face before he ever leaves, before he ever links his finger with mine.

“Pinky promise.”

. . . . .

“That was years ago, Sacchan, I doubt he remembers who I am.” I whisper to her over a crowd of fawning girls.

Years following Keigo’s abrupt removal from my life, I’ve walked the streets every day hoping for a glimpse of red feathers. By the time Hawks made his debut, I’d all but given up hope in ever seeing him again.

But now? Seeing the familiar floating feathers and the swarm of fangirls on a morning stroll with Sayuri could only mean one thing.

“There’s no way he’d forget you, Ichan! It sounds like you were his only friend as a kid. You don’t just forget that.” She presses, urging me forward against the claustrophobic hoard of warm bodies. “At least say hi. Don’t pass up the opportunity to meet #3!”

At her insistence, I worm my way through the crowd; people scream his name and reach for his feathers. I know I have no shot, but I still raise my hand to get his attention when he looks in my direction.

Immediately, our eyes lock.

“Ichan!” His eyes widen and he surges forward, rendering me frozen. “Hey! Ichijiku, yeah?”

“Y-Yes. You…remember me?”

“Definitely! I told you I’d find you again, didn’t I? I’d know your face anywhere.” He smirks, red feathers circling around me. “Remember these?” How do I tell him that my every waking moment has been filled with the hope of seeing them again? That every thought in my mind has been tainted with his promise, with his smile?

“I do.” I grin, giggling as they tickle my face. “Did you ever figure out if you could fly?” I taunt.

“Haha! Sure did! Turns out you had the right idea.” His laughter settles in my bones and heals every ache. When he leans in close to me, the smell of springtime and cologne invades my nostrils as he whispers in my ear. “Meet me on the roof of this building in two hours.”

“Okay.” I breathe, exhibiting maximum self-control to keep from reaching for him when he pulls back.

“We’ve gotta catch up sometime!” He beams.

“For sure.” I nod.

As I’m shoved back into Sayuri’s side by the thronging mob, she gives me a knowing smirk while I pinch myself to see if I’m stuck in a dream.

“Told you he’d remember.”

“Shut up.” I flush. “We need to finish shopping quickly; I’m busy in 2 hours.”

. . . . .

Between my attention span and restless limbs, I simply can’t wait. I’m reclining on the roof well before the time I’m supposed to show up. For one lonely hour, I bond with the sky, voicing my insecurities and long-lost desires to the clouds as I gaze over the streets of Japan.

“Breathtaking.” Keigo’s voice ricochets through every muscle.

“Y-Yeah.” I squeak, hopping onto my feet and rubbing the back of my neck. “I don’t often get a view of the city from this high up.”

He chuckles, warm and inviting, as he steps within arm’s reach of me. “I wasn’t talking about the city, Ichan.”

I don’t have time for this. I can’t have time for this. The feeling of home that saturates every limb with this bittersweet reunion clashes with the reminder that a year ago I’d given up hope. I’d given up hope and decided to try and move past my age-old crush on a childhood friend that I’d never see again.

Now, here he is.

And the man waiting for me at home is not Keigo.

Yet, here I am. I am on top of a building looking out over Japan with Keigo. He thinks I’m breathtaking. And even though I know Akuma should be getting off work in a few minutes and heading to the apartment, my temperature skyrockets as I laugh off the giddy feelings building in my bones.

“You grew into a charmer, I see.” I nudge him. “At any rate, it’s really good to see you again, Keigo.”

“Hawks, please. At least in public. My real name has been scrubbed from existence.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets. “I’ve been looking for you since I became a hero, you know? I promised I’d find you, and I never forgot about you.”

“I never forgot you either, Birdie.” With every inhale, I get minutely closer to him until our arms touch. “I’ve missed you. I was starting to worry I’d never see you again.”

He envelops me in his arms and holds me against his chest. The warmth of his aviator’s jacket mingles with the heat of longing I’ve smothered over the years.

“How have you been?” I ask.

“Busy.” Keigo loses a bit of his smile as he pulls back. “Being #3 calls for a lot of work. It’s exhausting.”

“I can imagine.” I peer up at him and focus hard so I don’t get lost in him. His smile. His eyes. His broad wings surrounding the two of us in our own little bubble. “You do an amazing job, for what it’s worth. I’m grateful for all the hard work you put in for everyone.”

“Heart of gold, just like I remember.” He pauses. “What have you been up to, then, Tiger?”

“Ugh…I’d hoped you’d forget that nickname.”

“Aw, come on! I’d never forget our first hero names. Tiger and Birdie fight for justice, remember?”

“Yeah.” I reminisce. “But I’m working at a local bookshop now. I’ve always enjoyed books. Being surrounded by them all day brings me a sense of peace that I’ve only ever found with you.” I turn away from him, facing the bustling view of the city.

“Nice! Following your dreams, yeah? Which bookshop do you work at? Which part of town?”

I stiffen and his feathers vibrate.

“Honshiro, it’s a second-hand bookstore in downtown Kamino Ward.” I try to evade. “I’m also–”

“Woah, wait. You live over there?!” His wings stretch wide, large and captivating. “But it’s so dangerous over there! Why are you staying there, of all places? Why not further east where the neighborhood is safer? Isn’t there a Honshiro there, too?”

“Well, yeah. But, I mean, ideally we would have stayed in Fukuoka, but Akuma had a better work deal downtown.”

“Akuma?” Keigo’s feathers twitch and his eyes glow. “Who’s he?”

I look down, feeling my world crashing around me. What if I’d just waited? What if I had held out hope that Keigo would come back for me? Would I be living better than I am now? Would I be happier?

Would Keigo be mine?

“Akuma is my boyfriend.”

“Oh…” I don’t miss the way his wings droop. “Right. But, well, you can’t stay there. That place is crawling with villains. Fukuoka is my agency’s base of operations. You’d be safest there. I mean, even Kumamoto would have you in Ms. Joke’s territory.”

“I know, Birdie, but I can’t.” I sigh. “Akuma’s on the brink of a really big promotion. We’ll only be in Kamino Ward for a couple months tops. I’ll ask him what his position will be and if we can go somewhere safer, okay?”

“A couple of months?” He frowns before it melts into a little smile. “Well, I guess that’s better than nothing. But do me a favor and talk with him about it sooner rather than later…please? See if he can afford to move somewhere else.” “Hawks…” I sigh. “I really want to, but Akuma has a really good proposition there.”

“Is it a good proposition for you, though?” “Why does it matter so much to you, Birdie?” The distance between us suffocates me.

Silence stretches between us as he extends a gloved hand out to me. His lips part to say something before he clenches his hand into a fist and drops it to his side.

I deserve the pit. I deserve the lowest circle of hell. Because at that moment, I would do anything to make him reach out again and tell me he loves me.

“We both lived through similar childhoods. I was given an opportunity to be freed of it. I just want the same for you.”

“I know. I appreciate that you still care about me after all this time.” I look up at him, begging him with my expression to be mine even though I shouldn’t. He’s busy looking over the city, the collar of his jacket hiding his expression. “Can we keep in touch, then? If you give me your number, I can at least promise to call you anytime I think I’m in trouble.”

“Deal.” He taps his phone against mine and our contact information is swapped. “Promise me you’ll call me the second you’re in trouble.”

I hold out my pinky for him as a grin twitches on my lips. “Pinky promise.”

And with a crooked grin, he links his pinky in mine.

Want More Hawks? Try: Elysium

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zdbztumble · 8 months

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Yet Another Kingdom Hearts Revisit, Part FINAL

I'm shocked every time I play the game by the ending. I still cannot believe that Kingdom Hearts was allowed to end the way it does. Video games might not be as expensive or as influential as a major motion picture, and Disney might not be terribly hands-on with the development of each game, but I can't imagine the company today allowing such an untested, improbable, and high-profile crossover to go through without a happy ending for some insurance. I can scarcely imagine the Disney of the early 2000s allowing it, but what do we have? An ending where Mickey Mouse is trapped in the realm of darkness with an edgy teen who was tempted by a figurative devil, Donald and Goofy are adrift in the universe with no clear way home, and the young/first love story between the original characters ends with them literally pulled apart. It took two more games for any of these characters to find a happy ending which was later torn up, but never mind.

But if those other games had never come - if Kingdom Hearts was a critically acclaimed but financially unsuccessful game, or if Square folded after 2002, or if they and Disney had a parting of ways that kept any more games from being made - the ending of KH I is still an almost perfect finale. And a large part of that comes down to the fact that it is an ending.

Leave out the rest of the series and take KH I on its own terms. The main conflict is that world after world is being consumed and destroyed by the Heartless, ostensibly due to the League of Disney Villains but really due to Ansem, Seeker of Darkness. King Mickey recognizes the danger and organizes a resistance with Final Fantasy characters that tries to learn what became of Ansem, and Sora ends up tasked with saving vulnerable worlds and undoing the damage already done.

By the end of KH I, the goals of the heroes are all accomplished. The story doesn't turn out to be a cog in the ever more convoluted scheming of a guy in a black coat; it's self-contained and resolved. All the Ansem Reports are found, Mickey's efforts with the FF crew provide vital aid to Sora, and Sora saves the universe.

On a character level, everything set up in the beginning of the game has a resolution. The innocent, childlike, plucky underdog proves himself a responsible, selfless, true hero over everyone's expectations (except for Kairi's). The posturing, swaggering big man on campus technically chosen to play hero proves himself a pawn to darkness, but finds redemption in the end. The girl caught between them, a girl with a mysterious past and budding insecurity about the future, turns out to have a big destiny and gains renewed faith through her love and trust in Sora. Donald and Goofy honor their vows to their king, and the king is confident that all is well. They all may end up separated, their victory tinged with loss and sacrifice - but they've all grown and changed through their adventures, in ways that satisfy the conflicts and doubts they have at the start. Their conflicts end.

It's not necessary that they all make it home for a happy ending (as beautiful as that moment is when it finally comes in KH II). It isn't necessary that they die either. And it isn't necessary to have a secret movie teasing a possible future entry, as fun as that is. The finale, as bittersweet as it is, ties up the game, in a way I can only fault for how technically illogical (but thematically brilliant) Kingdom Hearts the place is, and for not making as good a use of Chernabog as they could have.

#kingdom hearts #z's crits #commentary #sora #riku #kairi

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siriouslytired · 8 months

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Feedback fest 2024 🌻

Well RIP to my bookmarks because I just noticed that so many of my favourite fics have been deleted or made anonymous/put in a collection. Thought it would be fun to do this anyway.

Also apparently I managed to post this when it wasn't done (can you tell technology doesn't like me?) And for some reason I couldn't edit the original post (and what's up with that??). So uh, if anyone had liked the first post I deleted it because I got annoyed.

All fics on the list can be found on AO3

A Year In Toussaint by astolat

The Witcher; Rated E; Geralt of Rivia/Emhyr var Emreis

"[...] - and found himself spilling the whole sob story of his success to Emhyr, who actually broke and laughed out loud when Geralt got to the racehorses."

One of my comfort fics, will read it for a multitude of reasons but mostly just because it's so well-written and engaging (which is just all of astolat's fics really)

Hunger and Appetite by thegoodbutter

Shadow & Bone; Rated E; Aleksander Morozova/Alina Starkov; Modern AU

I couldn't actually tell you how many times I've read this, it's just SO GOOD. And the food descriptions are just fantastic, makes me want to cook up a storm/start baking something even though I hate doing the dishes afterwards.

The Stars Don’t Shine, They Burn by Sarcasmismydefaultmode

Shadow & Bone/The Witcher; Rated E; Alina Starkov/Emhyr var Emreis; Second Best AU

Read it. Do it. It's so fucking good. I usually don't read crossovers anymore but I couldn’t resist this one and it was so worth it. It blends the two worlds so well while making sure that the edges are obvious enough that you can still tell which parts came from what canon.

Amazing Grace (series) by Druid Moon

Marvel Cinematic Universe; Darcy Lewis/Clint Barton; Many references to different forms of crafts

A relic from when I mostly read MCU fics that I return to again and again and again. Super cosy, slightly sad, incredibly well-written, one of those fics that just draws you in once you start reading it.

coronas of wolf-teeth and rivers by Dialux

A Song of Ice and Fire; Not Rated; Catelyn Stark/Ned Stark; AU; Robert dies at the Trident, Ned dies at the Tower of Joy, Catelyn becomes Queen of Westeros

I remember reading the summary and basically attacking my phone screen to open the fic. It ties itself together so neatly from the premise and the way Catelyn is written is just fantastic.

Diplomatic Relations by KrazzeeAJ1701

Star Trek; Rated M; James T Kirk/Sybok; AU, Female James T. Kirk

Listen, I had a phase where I mostly read gender swap and I found some real gems - this being one of them. I don't re-read it as often as I should but every time I do I remember how much I like it and how fantastic the writing is. The set-up just makes sense and the progression of the story makes you want to keep reading forever.

the ghosts won't matter because we'll hide in sin by soapboxblues

A Song of Ice and Fire; Jaime Lannister/Lyanna Stark; AU

A cute little AU where Lyanna survives the Tower of Joy and is subsequently turned into a political pawn etc etc. Incredibly well-written and the pieces just fit together so well.

The Debt of Time by ShayaLonnie

Harry Potter; Rated E; Sirius Black/Hermione Granger; AU, Time Travel, Soul Bond

I must have read this at least 15 times by now. It just works so well, you know?

For One Last Day by fideliant

The Hobbit; General Audience; Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield; AU

"The things we don't do for love." It's so bittersweet and lovely and all those wonderful things that make me want to smile and cry at the same time. Sort of chances-not-taken and now we're old wrapped up in this little moment that fits so well into the canon of LOTR.

Eurybia by Annerb

Pirates of the Caribbean; Rated T; Elizabeth Swan/Will Turner; Jack Sparrow/Elizabeth Swan; AU

"A love story. Elizabeth Swan and the sea." Read it. Just do it. It's so so so good. And it's barely 1200 words so you can read it and then spend an hour contemplating what you just read and still have time to do other things.

#ifd2024 #international fanworks day

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mdhwrites · 9 months

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Do you find it rather funny that some (not all) of the people who wanted Amphibia's third season to be filled with angst, panic attacks, tears, grief and parental drama, also wanted a perfectly happy ending to the story rather than the bittersweet one we got? Like, ironic much?

There's a reason why I frame fandom desires for angst to be about shipping and prestige. That they want the high emotions and the claims they can make because of those elements but not what actually comes from it. In other words: Fandoms want Yesterday's Lie's ending from The Owl House.

For those unfamiliar, this is EXACTLY at the half series mark for TOH. Luz's, the main character, mom has just found out that her daughter ran away for the Summer to a different world and when she had to choose between going home or staying there, she chose to stay there. She immediately starts blaming herself and pleading with her daughter that she'll do better but next time, she promises to return, please!

And, Luz, to her credit, is a good daughter and says yes. The sequence is powerful, real, human and tragic. A real acknowledgement of how awful Luz's original choice was while keeping Camila in character of being as caring as she is. A moment that will theoretically solidify the two's bond but to undo will take a LOT of work as Camila will now be forced to stew with this pain as in the moment of the promise, her daughter is ripped away from her again.

It was also a moment I knew COULDN'T matter.

The show simply didn't allow for it. This isn't Amphibia where the girls had to adapt to their surroundings and still had elements about the human realm they liked. Luz isn't surrounded by creatures who are entirely unlike her and thus will always have to deal with some slight element of isolation. The Boiling of Isles of TOH is Luz's home. The show CONSTANTLY reinforces that this is where she belongs. That this isn't just where she can be happy but potentially the ONLY place she can be happy. Her social anxiety vanishes. She can find like minded people. She can live out the fantasies that she always chooses over reality. By the time of Yesterday's Lie, she has not just a found family but also the first friends she's implied to have had in a long time and her first girlfriend. Her life is on the Isles.

So you have literally spent HALF of your runtime reinforcing this. That maybe Luz needs to learn some lessons but her life is with the weirdos. On the Isles. You can't just pivot from that thematically. Not without shifting the show HARD. You have to take a show where Luz's every action has either been shown as positive or able to be fixed and now acknowledge this very real act of monstrousness on her part and the lengths one has to go to fix such a break in trust, let alone when the very next episode wants to portray it as something that is actually really messing with Luz's head.

Of course... That episode also includes Luz lying. And not just that episode. In fact, she will CONSTANTLY lie and break the trust of her girlfriend, and her friends, for literally the rest of the series. This cardinal sin of Luz's, lying to her mother, suddenly becomes a defining trait of hers to an extent never present beforehand. And mind you, it's not universal. To Luz and Eda, she is willing to tell them literally ANYTHING. Her girlfriend though? Fuck her.

It does make the show darker to constantly have your main character be a fucking asshole who whines about the consequences of their actions more than they actually learn from them but does it make it better? Does it make it more mature? Does it make enjoyable? No. Because it's a thematic and tonal betrayal of EVERYTHING that came before. Not that Luz ever managed to really learn anything before but they weren't nearly so blatant about her REFUSING to learn. Worse yet, this isn't a character flaw thing. Lying is one of those things we can all agree is bad but there are NEVER consequences for it because, well, the show still commits to Luz not just being the protagonist but also the hero.

And so this big moment, Yesterday's Lie's ending, is eventually just dropped. Something I could have told you was going to happen the day after the episode came out. It couldn't fit what the show had said about its main character so far and NO ONE would be happy with an ending where she actually keeps to the promise. Undoing the promise also would have cheated the moment, which dropping it does too, not without truly proper build up and reasoning, something the show struggled with in general.

So like many a fanfic, it does this big, super angsty moment... And then never continues it. Those most affected never actually show growth or change from it. It's almost episodic levels of bad how much people just keep forgiving Luz's actions and seem to forget about these really important statements, or how Luz blatantly keeps ignoring everyone around her, and eventually her own words in S3, to keep angsting about this but not actually dealing with it.

And Amphibia, to finally loop back around, did this itself. It took Marcy out of the story in order to have its big break in tone but not have to really deal with the fact that that moment should have had a big impact... On Marcy. Yes, it's brutal for Anne and Sasha but for them, it's just a complicated friend getting potentially killed. For Marcy, it is a betrayal, near death AND she has been pushed away by her friends for her actions. She as a character just isn't compatible with the show, not without the tone of a finale or her being effectively high/drunk to keep her from actually properly acknowledging anything.

It is a narrative tightrope, let alone for kid's media, but Marcy IS a much more expendable character than your main character. Even then, S3 of Amphibia is genuinely about many of the things that the fandom wanted. Her parents are TERRIFIED about what might happen to Anne. Anne can barely keep it together for the first few episodes and makes mistakes she might know better about if not for how she is trying to make her life any less complicated and scary than it already is. The Plantars are really the only ones who don't follow this stuff but even then, episodes like Spider-Sprig still let us see that being outsiders here, when Anne is accepted back in their home, digs at their brains. They also help even out things and keep the tone consistent with the rest of the work, even while it does deal with some of the ramifications of its choices.

It's not perfect but it is what AMPHIBIA can do. Without a future series, it was never going to go as far as these fans wanted.

Though... If you are looking for an Amphibia that might even be tiptoeing up to the line of being for Adult Swim rather than a main kid's programming block, definitely more teen rated with the amount of damage it has, while keeping spot on with the tone of the original and genuinely trying to be mature with its storytelling, I recommend checking out Dr. Neque's Amphibia vol. 2. I jumped in once the trio got back to Amphibia and have been loving it so far.

Even that version of Amphibia knows that it can't be doom and gloom all the time though. That the charm of Amphibia is partially from how absurd and fun it is. How over the top it can be with its silliness and fun. We admittedly just had a fight that was... ROUGH but for similar reasons as to why True Colors was so brutal in its ending but in a state that I think is better narratively by not quite going so far. That's all I will spoil though.

All of this to say that fandom likes the emotions of angst but not its consequences or how it can damage a narrative overall. How you do need to actually be ready to tackle that properly if you want to tackle it at all or else a small trickle of angst can quickly spoil the pot, let alone an entire, rancid apple like what would happen if most fandoms even got a single episode of what they wanted.

After all, TOH fans got what they wanted from the end of Yesterday's Lie and that is the episode that turned my heart on the show. I am SO happy that there is no equivalent for Amphibia.

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#the owl house criticism #toh critical #amphibia #amphibia critical

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