#he also made a point about how he had indeed spent most of the day in the VIP area and how people had let him be in peace

[mariacallous]

Two years ago when “Michael,” an owner of cryptocurrency, contacted Joe Grand to help recover access to about $2 million worth of bitcoin he stored in encrypted format on his computer, Grand turned him down.

Michael, who is based in Europe and asked to remain anonymous, stored the cryptocurrency in a password-protected digital wallet. He generated a password using the RoboForm password manager and stored that password in a file encrypted with a tool called TrueCrypt. At some point, that file got corrupted and Michael lost access to the 20-character password he had generated to secure his 43.6 BTC (worth a total of about €4,000, or $5,300, in 2013). Michael used the RoboForm password manager to generate the password but did not store it in his manager. He worried that someone would hack his computer and obtain the password.

“At [that] time, I was really paranoid with my security,” he laughs.

Grand is a famed hardware hacker who in 2022 helped another crypto wallet owner recover access to $2 million in cryptocurrency he thought he’d lost forever after forgetting the PIN to his Trezor wallet. Since then, dozens of people have contacted Grand to help them recover their treasure. But Grand, known by the hacker handle “Kingpin,” turns down most of them, for various reasons.

Grand is an electrical engineer who began hacking computing hardware at age 10 and in 2008 cohosted the Discovery Channel’s Prototype This show. He now consults with companies that build complex digital systems to help them understand how hardware hackers like him might subvert their systems. He cracked the Trezor wallet in 2022 using complex hardware techniques that forced the USB-style wallet to reveal its password.

But Michael stored his cryptocurrency in a software-based wallet, which meant none of Grand’s hardware skills were relevant this time. He considered brute-forcing Michael’s password—writing a script to automatically guess millions of possible passwords to find the correct one—but determined this wasn’t feasible. He briefly considered that the RoboForm password manager Michael used to generate his password might have a flaw in the way it generated passwords, which would allow him to guess the password more easily. Grand, however, doubted such a flaw existed.

Michael contacted multiple people who specialize in cracking cryptography; they all told him “there’s no chance” of retrieving his money. But last June he approached Grand again, hoping to convince him to help, and this time Grand agreed to give it a try, working with a friend named Bruno in Germany who also hacks digital wallets.

Grand and Bruno spent months reverse engineering the version of the RoboForm program that they thought Michael had used in 2013 and found that the pseudo-random number generator used to generate passwords in that version—and subsequent versions until 2015—did indeed have a significant flaw that made the random number generator not so random. The RoboForm program unwisely tied the random passwords it generated to the date and time on the user’s computer—it determined the computer’s date and time, and then generated passwords that were predictable. If you knew the date and time and other parameters, you could compute any password that would have been generated on a certain date and time in the past.

If Michael knew the day or general time frame in 2013 when he generated it, as well as the parameters he used to generate the password (for example, the number of characters in the password, including lower- and upper-case letters, figures, and special characters), this would narrow the possible password guesses to a manageable number. Then they could hijack the RoboForm function responsible for checking the date and time on a computer and get it to travel back in time, believing the current date was a day in the 2013 time frame when Michael generated his password. RoboForm would then spit out the same passwords it generated on the days in 2013.

There was one problem: Michael couldn’t remember when he created the password.

According to the log on his software wallet, Michael moved bitcoin into his wallet for the first time on April 14, 2013. But he couldn’t remember if he generated the password the same day or some time before or after this. So, looking at the parameters of other passwords he generated using RoboForm, Grand and Bruno configured RoboForm to generate 20-character passwords with upper- and lower-case letters, numbers, and eight special characters from March 1 to April 20, 2013.

It failed to generate the right password. So Grand and Bruno lengthened the time frame from April 20 to June 1, 2013, using the same parameters. Still no luck.

Michael says they kept coming back to him, asking if he was sure about the parameters he’d used. He stuck to his first answer.

“They really annoyed me, because who knows what I did 10 years ago,” he recalls. He found other passwords he generated with RoboForm in 2013, and two of them did not use special characters, so Grand and Bruno adjusted. Last November, they reached out to Michael to set up a meeting in person. “I thought, ‘Oh my God, they will ask me again for the settings.”

Instead, they revealed that they had finally found the correct password—no special characters. It was generated on May 15, 2013, at 4:10:40 pm GMT.

“We ultimately got lucky that our parameters and time range was right. If either of those were wrong, we would have … continued to take guesses/shots in the dark,” Grand says in an email to WIRED. “It would have taken significantly longer to precompute all the possible passwords.”

Grand and Bruno created a video to explain the technical details more thoroughly.

RoboForm, made by US-based Siber Systems, was one of the first password managers on the market, and currently has more than 6 million users worldwide, according to a company report. In 2015, Siber seemed to fix the RoboForm password manager. In a cursory glance, Grand and Bruno couldn’t find any sign that the pseudo-random number generator in the 2015 version used the computer’s time, which makes them think they removed it to fix the flaw, though Grand says they would need to examine it more thoroughly to be certain.

Siber Systems confirmed to WIRED that it did fix the issue with version 7.9.14 of RoboForm, released June 10, 2015, but a spokesperson wouldn’t answer questions about how it did so. In a changelog on the company’s website, it mentions only that Siber programmers made changes to “increase randomness of generated passwords,” but it doesn’t say how they did this. Siber spokesman Simon Davis says that “RoboForm 7 was discontinued in 2017.”

Grand says that, without knowing how Siber fixed the issue, attackers may still be able to regenerate passwords generated by versions of RoboForm released before the fix in 2015. He’s also not sure if current versions contain the problem.

“I'm still not sure I would trust it without knowing how they actually improved the password generation in more recent versions,” he says. “I'm not sure if RoboForm knew how bad this particular weakness was.”

Customers may also still be using passwords that were generated with the early versions of the program before the fix. It doesn’t appear that Siber ever notified customers when it released the fixed version 7.9.14 in 2015 that they should generate new passwords for critical accounts or data. The company didn’t respond to a question about this.

If Siber didn’t inform customers, this would mean that anyone like Michael who used RoboForm to generate passwords prior to 2015—and are still using those passwords—may have vulnerable passwords that hackers can regenerate.

“We know that most people don't change passwords unless they're prompted to do so,” Grand says. “Out of 935 passwords in my password manager (not RoboForm), 220 of them are from 2015 and earlier, and most of them are [for] sites I still use.”

Depending on what the company did to fix the issue in 2015, newer passwords may also be vulnerable.

Last November, Grand and Bruno deducted a percentage of bitcoins from Michael’s account for the work they did, then gave him the password to access the rest. The bitcoin was worth $38,000 per coin at the time. Michael waited until it rose to $62,000 per coin and sold some of it. He now has 30 BTC, now worth $3 million, and is waiting for the value to rise to $100,000 per coin.

Michael says he was lucky that he lost the password years ago because, otherwise, he would have sold off the bitcoin when it was worth $40,000 a coin and missed out on a greater fortune.

“That I lost the password was financially a good thing.”

[because-its-eurovision]

Roasting the VIP area at Tikkurila Festivaali

How are you guys? Those are exactly that kind of people. "I work for Elisa [a telecommunications company] and I got company tickets!" Or there's some fucking "Sofia" taking pics like this: ehhh, ohhh, aaah! For fuck's sake. Nah, welcome to the show, just teasing you a little bit. Because I was in that area myself yesterday as well. Sorry.

[sinner-as-saint]

stuck with you

Bucky x Reader au

Run-through: Alone, cold, and stranded in the middle of a small town on top of a mountain. Not the most ideal situation to be in when the weather starts getting bad. No motels or inns have room for you so the locals suggest you reach out to a man named Bucky Barnes for shelter. Apparently, Bucky is known to always help stranded people, or lost hikers. No matter how weird it feels to drive up to a stranger’s house and ask for help, you have on other choice but to do just that. The plan was simple: stay with the strange, kind man for a couple of days until the snowstorm passes. But then you meet him and you find yourself unable to stick to the plan. 

Themes: age gap (reader is in her twenties, Bucky is in his early forties), strangers-to-lovers ish, smut, slight degrading kink, fluff

It felt like the start of a horror movie. 

Unknown town, unknown people. You cursed yourself as you walked out of yet another motel who had no room left for you. 

What the hell were you thinking? After uni, you thought travelling the world on your own would help you with learning the right lessons, having the right experiences, and all that before you joined the family business and began working with your parents for the rest of your life. 

Instead of having fun though, here you were. Stuck on top of an icy mountain, in a small town, and nowhere to sleep for the night. With the snowstorm approaching, you had to find shelter quickly. But none of these motels or inns were free. Every hiker, skier, and tourist had already booked ahead of you apparently. 

“Uh, miss?” A voice called from behind you right as you were about to step outside into the cold evening. 

You turned to look and it was the owner of the motel. The same man who had just turned you down because he had no space left to accommodate you. He looked apologetic as he approached you. 

“Hi.” You said, then patted your pockets quickly, “Did I forget anything on the counter?” 

“No.” The man smiled and shook his head. “Look, I’m sorry you can’t stay. But snowstorms in this area can be dangerous and deadly, and you wouldn’t survive the night if you slept in your car.” He pointed at the rented jeep you had parked right outside the motel. “But there’s a man who can help. His name’s Bucky. Bucky Barnes. He often helps out stranded hikers and stuff, and I already called him and asked if he had room and he said yes.” 

The motel owner proceeded to give you details about Bucky and how to get to his house. From what you’d just learnt, Bucky Barnes was a business mogul who preferred seclusion. He was wealthy, and lived alone in his luxurious cabin that, rumour has it, he built himself. He was in his early forties and had people running his businesses for him all over the world. He moved to this small town after living in lavish cities his entire life. He owned acres upon acres of land, so he was also the local lumberjack and spent his time manually taking down trees whenever anyone needed wood. 

“Don’t worry, miss,” The motel owner reassured you, with a kind smile. “Mr. Barnes is a nice guy. Everyone around here knows him. Just follow the directions I gave you and you’ll find his house not too far from here. It’s a wooden behemoth right on the edge of the forest.” 

When you got back in your car, the first thing you did was google the man really quickly. And the headlines, as you scrolled and read them, made your eyes widen a little each time. They were all basically just about what the motel owner already told you. But you needed to make sure it was all real. 

It was. Bucky Barnes was indeed a filthy rich business mogul who chose to come live all the way up here to get away from busy cities and journalists who always followed him around for quotes to put into their articles. 

And then, you began searching for pictures of this man. Your heart skipped a beat upon finding them. Pictures of him at fancy dinner parties, galas, charity events. Pictures of him shaking hands and clinking glasses with famous faces. Pictures of him on business magazine covers.

Pretty blue eyes, handsome face, and a kind smile. You noted the crinkles by his eyes whenever he smiled or laughed in pictures. Whenever he was photographed with a group of people, everyone seemed charmed by him. He seemed tall too. Oh well, safe to say the man was drop dead gorgeous. 

What if he was a serial killer and the people in this town directed victims to his house like he was some kind of twisted leader of this town?

You cringed at the exaggerated thought, shaking your head. 

Usually you weren’t one to trust strangers quickly but it was getting darker, the wind was beginning to howl and the cold was making you shiver even beneath all the layers you were wearing. The snowstorm was expected to last at least three days, so it was either trust a stranger for a few days or die. 

— 

You stopped your car in front of what the motel owner called a ‘wooden behemoth right on the edge of the forest’. And he was right. 

The luxurious log home was situated higher up on the mountain, looking over the small town. Surrounded by towering trees, mainly pine, and the area around the house was foggier than the rest of the town. It would’ve seemed eerie if it weren’t for the warm, golden lights coming from inside the house. 

The house was indeed massive, with intricate carvings on the huge front doors. The roof was covered with dark, polished slate, and what gave the home a more contemporary touch were the large, floor-to-ceiling windows. It looked like the perfect place for someone who sought seclusion and comfort. 

Or a murderer, your brain added. You hissed at the thought, shoving it away as you got out of your jeep. It was beginning to drizzle, the wind howling louder than earlier. You walked up the front porch and knocked on the large doors. 

Before you could check out the porch, you heard loud footsteps approaching. Then, the front door opened. And on the other side stood a handsome man, slightly different from how he looked in the photographs you’d found online, but just as gorgeous. Well, the photographs were all taken from years ago so it made sense that he looked different. Bucky Barnes hadn’t been photographed ever since he moved here, according to the articles, and it was a shame because he was truly a work of art. 

“Hey,” He said with a deep, confident voice. “You must be the girl I just received a call about from the motel.” He opened the door wider. And for a couple of seconds, you didn’t move. 

You were frozen in place. He was… too pretty. That same handsome face as in the photographs, except he had more facial hair now. And longer hair. So long in fact that he had to put it all up in a messy bun on top of his head. A few strands escaped the bun and fell on either side of his face, making him look beautiful in a rugged way. 

You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander for just a second. He was just as tall as you imagine, but slightly more muscular than he seemed in the pictures. The white t-shirt he was wearing clung to him like a second skin, the jeans clung to his thighs in a way that should be illegal. 

You quickly looked up and cleared your throat before you got caught ogling. “Um, hi Mr. Barnes. I’m sorry for–,” 

He cut you off politely, “There’s no need to apologise,” He signalled for you to come in. And as you walked into his home he said, “And please, call me Bucky.” 

You smiled at him as you stood near the entrance, waiting for him to shut the door. When he turned to you, he asked for your name and asked what you were doing here. While you answered, he led you further into the magnificent house. 

If you thought it was beautiful from the outside, the interior was absolutely breathtaking. Spacious, with high ceilings. Most things inside were wooden, except for the rugs and the plush sofas. It was an open concept, and you could see the more farm-style kitchen from the living room area and it was just as pretty as the rest of the house. The more you looked around, the more you fell in love with the interior. Elegant curved staircase which led upstairs, massive fireplace, accents of stone and metals everywhere. It looked like a lot of thought went into building this home. 

“This looks like a dream.” You commented, standing in the middle of the living room and taking it all in. The owner looks like a dream too. You sighed at the sound of your inner thoughts. It was true. 

Bucky smiled, looking proud. “It took some years to build but…” He sighed, “It’s worth it.” 

You smiled at him, noticing the crinkles by his eyes as he smiled. Fuck, this man was beautiful. 

“Give me your keys, I’ll bring your bags in, then I can show you to your room.” He extended his hand out, waiting for you to drop your keys into his palm. 

“Oh.” Your face got all hot when you realised you’d just walked into his home empty handed. You’d forgotten your bags in the jeep. “I can go get it, it’s–,” 

“No, I’ll get it,” He cut you off again, stepped closer and took the keys from your hand. “It’s getting bad out there.” Then he walked away. 

And you shamelessly watched him leave. His back muscles moved and shifted under the tight shirt as he walked and you felt a shiver travel down your spine. Think about how those warm, hard muscles would feel under your fingertips… 

Shit. This man was being kind to you and here you were being a pervert. 

–

Bucky brought your bags in, all four of them. Carried them through the front door like they weren’t heavy at all. Well, he cuts down trees for fun so maybe he’s used to carrying heavier things. 

He showed you to one of the many guest bedrooms he had. And the room was just as beautiful and perfect as the rest of the home. King-sized bed, large chest drawer, private bathroom which was fully stocked with toiletries. Large windows, and a small balcony which overlooked the dense forest outside. 

“Well then, I’ll leave you to unpack and make yourself comfortable. Dinner will be ready in an hour or so. See you downstairs.” He left with yet another smile which made your heart skip a beat. 

–

You found yourself making your way downstairs after a long, warm shower. You wanted to unpack after your shower but then the smell of dinner cooking forced you out of the room. You followed the delicious scent of what seemed like pasta sauce, sniffing the air quietly until you made your way into the gorgeous kitchen. With an even more gorgeous man in it. 

“There you are,” Bucky smiled at you as you approached the large kitchen island which was also the dining table. “Everything okay with your room?” He asked, stirring some kind of sauce in a pan before resuming chopping some other thing. He looked so comfortable in his kitchen, it was endearing. 

“Yeah, everything’s good.” You answered, lingering by the kitchen counter awkwardly, “You need help with something?” 

“Sure, if you want.” Bucky nodded and pointed at the other side of the kitchen with his knife, and said, “Can you be a doll and grab us a red wine from the cellar?” 

You froze for a quick second at the sound of ‘doll’. It was sweet, but the way it sounded from his deep, smooth voice… you cleared your throat again before your thoughts got inappropriate, turning around and heading for the cellar because of course he had a wine cellar. 

After grabbing what you hoped was a nice wine, you made your way back to the kitchen and found Bucky plating pasta into two plates. He had a slight frown on his face as he focused on the plates. If there was anything you had noticed about Bucky it was that he was very detail oriented. 

Bucky’s frown disappeared the moment he looked up from the plates and saw you standing there. “Hope you like pasta and cheese.” He winked with a maddeningly handsome smile. 

“I do.” You smiled back, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach as you handed him the wax sealed bottle of wine. For a brief moment, his hand brushed against yours and you could’ve sworn it felt like you’d been electrocuted. 

A strange shiver danced down your spine as you took a seat at the table and watched Bucky break the seal, uncork the bottle and pour it into two glasses before pouring the rest into a large decanter. 

All that wood chopping did him good. The man was muscular in all the right places. But his hands… oh his hands. Large, veiny. Imagine those hands all over– 

“So, tell me about yourself.” He said, taking a seat across from you. “And what are you doing on this icy mountain?” 

The conversation flowed perfectly. You told Bucky about how you were travelling to all the places you wanted to see before you moved back home, and he told you all about his life here. He said he liked the peace and quiet. Even the snowstorms, he grew to love them. 

By the time your plates and the decanter were empty, the two of you were laughing and exchanging life stories like you were old friends catching up. 

“So wait,” You chuckled, “You built this entire place out of spite?” 

Bucky nodded, laughing as well. “Well, I guess. My friend Sam came to visit when I told him I bought some land out here and he said ‘Well what are you gonna do here, Buck? You can’t just build a house in the middle of nowhere and become a lumberjack providing wood to the locals.’ and I thought, ‘Wait, that’s not a bad idea’, then I did exactly what Sam said.” 

You laughed, the wine made everything funnier. Bucky’s cheeks were now pink, his lips stained due to the wine and you couldn’t look away from him. Fuck, he really was gorgeous. He must have changed before dinner because he was no longer wearing that tight white shirt. He was wearing loose, beige coloured loungewear and looked just as mouth-watering. His hair was just as messy, but made him look effortlessly handsome. 

You eye-fucked him so more before realising that he was checking you out too, and neither of you had said a word for the past minute or two. But it wasn’t awkward. His blue eyes stared into yours and you were suddenly too aware of the thick tension in the air. 

The way he licked his lips, the way he toyed with the stem of his wine glass, the way his hand–

Bucky cleared his throat and looked away first. You tried to blink away the tension too but it remained. Then Bucky asked, “So, you have a boyfriend or something waiting for you at home?” He gave you a playful smirk. 

Oh? 

You shook your head, “Nope. What about you? You came all the way here to live in seclusion, are you running from an ex or something?” 

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head. “No, nothing like that.” 

That tension came back again, filling the air like smoke. You couldn’t ignore it. Neither could he, given how he fidgeted in his seat. 

This is wrong. Isn’t it? 

He was being kind enough to offer you shelter and you were being inappropriate. So before you did something you might regret, you said, “It’s late. I should head to bed. I drove all day and…” You trailed off, looking away and avoiding his eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah of course.” He said quickly, getting up from his seat. He went to reach for your plate but you grabbed it first. 

“Oh I’ll load up the dishwasher, don’t worry.” You moved before he could stop you, grabbing your plate and then his. Then the wine glasses and everything else. 

You could feel Bucky’s eyes on you as you carefully arranged everything in the rack before turning it on. You washed your hands, and wiped it on a tea towel while turning to leave but Bucky’s heated stare stopped you. 

There he was, leaning against the kitchen island and looking even more yummy than the dinner he made. You were glad you had the tea towel in your hands otherwise you wouldn’t know what to do. 

Luckily Bucky spoke up first, “If I had known you were coming I would’ve made dessert.” 

Such a simple sentence yet it sounded like he’d whispered some dirty, filthy secret in your ear the way your body came alive. You refrained from clenching your thighs together. His voice was lower, deeper but just as smooth and it was driving you crazy just imagining how this man must sound in bed. 

And now you were jealous of all the people who had had the chance of hearing what he sounded like, moaning and grunting, whispering out of breath… fuck. 

“Uh…” You struggled to find your words, now that the image of him naked in bed wouldn’t leave your head, “That’s alright. I don’t have much of a sweet tooth anyway.” 

You didn’t know when you moved, but you found yourself standing closer to Bucky now. He turned to face you completely and there were mere inches between your bodies. You felt… hot. Maybe it was the wine, but you were almost certain it was because of the way Bucky looked at you. Like he’d devour you if he could. You had sensed tension between you and other people before, but it had never been this strong. 

“Shame,” He muttered under his breath, his hand coming up to gently touch your face. “I happen to like something sweet before bed.” His voice dropped to a whisper. 

All you could focus on was the way he was touching your face. Gently, like you were made of glass. His hand was warm, but rough. You let out a shaky breath as you wondered how his rough hands would feel all over you– 

“Go to bed.” He said in a voice that made you tingle all over. He didn’t let go of your face. His thumb caressing your cheek, and his eyes staring into your soul. 

You blinked, wondering if you misheard. “What?” You asked softly, leaning into his touch subtly, obviously not wanting to move. 

“Go to bed, doll.” He repeated, still not letting go of your face. 

You frowned slightly, “But–,” 

He cut you off by placing a gentle finger over your lips. His eyes couldn’t look away from where his finger touched your mouth. He leaned in a little, then said, “We shouldn’t.” 

“Why not?” You asked, lips brushing against his finger as you spoke. 

He gave you a soft smile and said, “I should be a good host, not seduce you.” 

You shrugged, “Well I’m nice and seduced, now what do we do?” 

He chuckled, leaning in until his nose brushed against the side of your neck. His simple touches were driving you crazy. 

“You know what happens when there’s a snowstorm in this town, doll? It lasts for days,” He whispered, lazily kissing your neck. “And by the time that’s over, the roads are completely blocked. And this is a small town so it takes a while before the roads are functional again.” 

Your heart fluttered, your body felt too hot and yet you shivered. You gently pulled away to look at him. “So you’re saying I’m stuck with you here for days?” You couldn’t help the smirk on your face. 

He caught the hopeful tone in your voice. Bucky nodded. “And if I touch you right now,” He whispered, cupping your face in his large, rough hands, “I’m not sure I’ll let you leave my bed at all for the next coming days.” 

It was risky because as beautiful as he was, you didn’t know Bucky. But you had never wanted someone this much before. This felt like a new kind of longing and need. You didn’t care what was right, ethical, or risky. “Then don’t.” 

That did it. 

Bucky stopped thinking why he shouldn’t and instead pressed his lips to yours, kissing you like he was tasting his favourite dessert. His tongue easing your own as he tasted you leisurely. “We’re sure about this?” He asked, breathlessly. 

“Yes,” You whispered against his mouth, gasping as his hands trailed up and down your body, sliding under your sweater and fondling your breasts. “We are.” 

Bucky smiled into the kiss, then spoke again. “Aren’t I too old for you, doll?” 

You chuckled, your own hands wandering and sliding up and down his muscular back. You wanted nothing more than to just take off that comfy hoodie he was wearing. “Oh, what’s a decade or two?” You murmured. 

Bucky’s hands dropped down to your waist, caressing your skin, fingers threatening to slip past the waistband of your sweatpants. You had to bite your lip to keep yourself from moaning too loudly. The storm was picking up outside and it would surely drown out all your cries, not that there were any neighbours to hear to begin with. 

“Will you be good for me?” He whispered, kissing down your face as his fingers slowly dipped into your sweatpants. One hand held you at the waist while the other inched dangerously close to where you craved him the most. 

His touch, his words, it was all too much. “I’ll be good,” You replied, your hands sliding under his hoodie to finally touch him, exploring and curious. His body was incredible to the touch, hard muscles and warm skin. 

He finally slipped his hand into your underwear, hissing as he found you dripping wet. He chuckled against your skin as he kissed and licked your throat, “How long have you been this wet, doll?” He asked, sounding cocky. 

You gasped when you felt him sliding a finger inside you, gently. “Since you opened the front door.” You answered honestly. 

Bucky laughed, his warm breath tickling your ear. “That long, huh? I’m sorry.” He cooed, “Let me take care of it for you.” 

You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your mouth when you felt him slide another finger inside you, fucking you slowly with both now. Bucky kissed your neck, your face, your mouth. Licking and biting your skin as he pleased while he finger-fucked you until you were right on the edge. 

“Get up here.” He murmured, pulling his fingers and hand away and pointed at the kitchen island. 

You didn’t move immediately. Probably because your brain was all foggy from his kisses and his touch that it took a second for you to register and process his words. 

Bucky smirked and repeated. “Come on. Take your clothes off and get up here.” 

You did as he asked. Taking off your sweater and sweatpants, followed by your underwear and revealing your bare body. Bucky took a second, letting his fingers trail up and down your stomach and chest before he pointed at the island again. 

“Up.” 

You hopped on the edge with a giggle, hissing upon feeling the cold surface against your warm skin. Once sat on the edge, you wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer. Bucky smiled as he placed his hands on you again, your arms wrapping around his neck as you stared into his ocean blue eyes. 

“Such a pretty doll,” He whispered, placing his hands on your thighs and spreading them further apart. He looked down at your wet folds, mindlessly dragging a finger up and down your slit, making you shiver all over again. “Now, lie down.” He said. 

You wasted no time. You unwrapped your arms from around him and carefully laid down flat on your back, hissing at the cold again. 

Bucky’s eyes trailed up and down your body, his hands caressing your skin. From your thighs, to your hips, to your breasts where he pinched your nipples, making you cry out again. 

“Can I taste you, doll?” He asked, pulling your legs up to the edge and spreading your thighs as far apart as they would go. The island was high enough where he only had to bend down for his mouth to touch your heated skin. Lips brushing against your lower abdomen, he asked again, “Can I?” 

Your brain was a mess. Yet you managed to mumble a firm, “Yes…” 

With his mouth mere inches away from your throbbing clit, he said, “Keep your legs up just like that for me, okay?”

You nodded, looking down in between your legs as he leaned in and pressed his mouth against your wetness. He looked up immediately, holding your stare as he slid his tongue against, the roughness of his beard against your softness was driving you insane. 

You held yourself up on your elbows as you watched him eat you out. The warmth of his mouth, the slow caress of his hands against your inner thighs, the intense look in his eyes as he tasted you. It made you feel like you were floating. 

It was too much, it was not enough. You wanted him, you wanted more. 

“You taste sweeter than any dessert, doll.” He whispered, kissing around your wet clit before sucking on it hard enough to make you come, your back arched off the surface, riding his face as you cried out in pleasure. “But it’s not enough.” He admitted, pulling away and kissing his way up your body. “Is it?” 

You barely caught your breath, your heart racing as you laid there in front of him. 

“Get down, and bend over for me.” He spoke in that enchanting voice of his which put you under his spell so easily. 

You moved immediately this time. He was still fully dressed and you didn’t have a single article of clothing on and somehow that made you feel hotter. 

You bent over the island in front of him, your front pressed against the edge. You placed your hands down and turned to look at him over your shoulder. You watched how he grabbed your hips and spread your legs, leaning closer to kiss up your spine. 

“So beautiful,” He whispered against the back of your neck. “Now, are you gonna let me fuck you? Hmm? Are you gonna let me put both of us out of our misery, doll?” 

“Yes.” 

“Good.” 

He pulled his hands away from you for a moment, lowering his trousers enough to free his cock. You wished you could see it properly. You wished you could kneel down in front of him and take him into your mouth and– 

You gasped out loud when you felt the tip of his hard, warm cock pressing against you. Nothing mattered in that moment, not when he was gently rubbing his cock up and down your wet slit, parting your folds. 

You squirmed against the hard surface under you, pushing back into him in need. “Please…” You whispered, desperate for him. You had never been this needy for a man before. 

You braced yourself for his thrust, knowing it was coming. 

Slowly, Bucky slid inside you, filling you up and stretching you out as he did. He let out a sigh of pleasure once he was seated deep inside you, gripping on your hips tightly as he gave you both a moment to get used to it. 

You felt so full, like you’ve never been before. So full, you could barely form a coherent thought. All you knew was you wanted more. 

You let out a quiet moan as he started fucking you gently. 

“You feel so fucking good,” He hissed, “So warm and tight for me.” Bucky whispered, fucking into you with a pace that made you want to scream and shout because it felt so good. 

Each time he filled you up, the tip of his cock brushed against your most sensitive spot and you moaned as your walls clenched around him. 

“Poor little doll,” He cooed, “This will be your new routine for the next few days now. Just getting fucked, and caressed all the time while the storm rages on outside.” 

His thrusts got harder. Your moans got louder. His words made you clench around him even more. 

“Look at you,” He growled. “Pretty girl letting a older man she barely knows fuck her like she’s a needy little whore.” His voice was deeper, and as menacing as his words were his touch was just as soft and careful. His fingers circled your clit gently while he pounded into you from behind. “Would you bend over for any man, doll? Hmm? Whoever offered you shelter from the storm, is this how you’d repay him? By letting him fuck your needy little cunt?” 

You couldn’t help but cry out, moaning in pleasure as his words took you higher. You did have a little bit of a degrading kink, who didn’t? But never had anyone ever hit the spot like Bucky did. And given how your wetness dripped down his fingers, he could tell. 

Bucky chuckled darkly. “Does that turn you on, doll? Knowing that I can selfishly take from you now that you’re stuck here with me?” His other hand came up to grab you by the back of your neck as he whispered into your ear, fucking into you hard enough that your body slammed into the kitchen island with each thrust. “Does it turn you on knowing you’ll have to be my little slut for the next few days? That you’ll have to spread those legs for me and let me fuck you whenever I want to?” 

“Yes…” You whimpered as he pounded deeper into you. You didn’t want him to stop. Ever. 

He hissed into your ear, “Is that what you are now? My little slut?” He chuckled, rolling his hips in a way that had you whimpering and squirming in pleasure beneath him. “Well, what a perfect way of repaying me for my kindness, hmm?” 

“Please, Bucky…” You whimpered. 

Bucky hummed, kissing your warm skin, “I know, pretty girl. I know, it feels good, doesn’t it?” 

His words made you feel feverish, and wild. Lust-drunk more than ever. You moaned as he sped up again, a familiar warmth taking over you, and a pressure building in between your hips. 

You whined, “I’m gonna come.” You cried, and you were pretty sure you had tears streaming down your face. 

“Come for me, then. Come all over my cock, doll.” 

Your brain was a foggy mess after that. You came hard though, clenching around him violently as you did. 

“Fuck… look at you,” He whispered, his cock pounding harder into you until he came as well, spilling all over your lower back as he panted in exhaustion. “You okay, doll?” 

You nodded slowly, pressing your forehead down against the cool surface and catching your breath. 

“Come on,” His voice was softer now as he pulled you up and held you against him. Your back to his chest as he wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling your neck and leaving soft kisses all over your neck and the side of your face. “Let’s get you in bed, yeah?” 

You asked in a shaky voice, “And then can we fuck again?” 

Bucky chuckled, hugging you tightly before saying, “Yes we can, pretty girl.”

[bluesylveon2]

A Chance Meeting

Summary: While running away from her set expectations, Yuu meets someone she did not expect.

Note: royal au (same universe as the Leona and Lilia fics), set after the Lilia fic but before the epilogue, mentioned Ray from Princess and the Frog, fluff, love at first sight, some prejudice, and Lilia Yuu/MC cameo (referred to as Lady Vanrouge)

Warning: not beta read and possible ooc characters

Word Count: 2.8k

Masterlist: here, Series Masterlist: here

The first time Yuu met Malleus, it felt like fate.

Yuu. daughter of a viscount in the City of Flowers, was exhausted. She had traveled long and far to Briar Valley for the king's 3-day birthday ball because her father insisted on her attending. Why? Being the unmarried woman Yuu was, her father used the party as an opportunity for her to meet other noblemen. He dragged her to meet different bachelors so that Yuu did not have time to eat something or even get a glance at the king. 

The girl plopped down on a bench in the middle of the castle's rose garden. She wanted nothing more than to think about anything but marriage when she would instead enjoy being in a new area. Yuu smiled as she eyed a nearby rose. The rose was not a vibrant red like the ones in the Queendom of Roses. Instead, they emitted a magical glow that made them unique to the ones from the Queendom. 

The sound of footsteps brought her out of her thoughts. 

"Oh, I did not think there would be people here."

Yuu turned, and her breath hitched. Standing a few feet away was a tall, regally dressed man with long jet-black hair slicked back to show a unique pattern on his head. The man's horns and green eyes stood out to Yuu the most. The man was definitely a fae. If his looks could not spell it out, the magical aura he emitted also did. 

"I'm sorry. I could move to another spot."

The man shook his head. "There is no need. Can I sit next to you?'

Yuu felt as if she should be intimidated, but she nodded anyways. She could feel his magical aura grow with each step he took until he sat beside her. The two sat in silence as Yuu stared at the roses, and the man looked up at the stars.

"So, what brings you to the royal garden?" The man asked with curiosity in his voice. 

Yuu sighed. "I just wanted some air. What about you?” 

"I wanted to go for a walk. The palace is peaceful at night.”

It is. I want to experience longer, but my father is trying to marry me off, so he brought me here to meet some bachelors." A small smile formed on her face. "The thing is, I want to marry for love. I also want to enjoy my time here, but that might not happen."

The man felt empathy for Yuu. “I understand what you are going through."

"Yeah. I just want to think about anything else but that."

There was a moment of silence until the man spoke. "Did you know the king loves gargoyles?"

Yuu blinked and immediately turned to the man. He only looked down at her with a calm expression. "Pardon?"

"The king loves gargoyles. That's why you see them all over the castle." The man pointed to different parts of the exterior where multiple gargoyles sat. Yuu was too focused on the roses before to notice how many there were. 

"That's really interesting."

"Indeed. Did you also know that it is not used for decoration but to move water from a roof and away from running down the side of the building."

"Really! Can you tell me more facts?" Yuu's eyes sparkled with interest. She did not expect her night to be spent talking about gargoyles, but she would choose that over potential husbands.

The man smiled for the first time that night. "Certainly, Lady-"

“Yuu. You can call me Yuu.”

"Yuu." The man tested the name on his tongue. "And you can call me whatever you want."

Yuu's eyebrows furrowed slightly. "You don't want to tell me your name."

The man chuckled. "I want to keep that a secret but don't worry. I have no ill intentions behind it. A nickname will suffice for now."

Yuu thought back to the books she read regarding fae and his type. None mentioned which species had big horns, so it was hard to tell. Still, she could not take her eyes off his horns.

"How about Tsunotarou?"

Tsutarou's eyes widened briefly until he genuinely laughed, causing Yuu to laugh. "What a peculiar name…Alright. I will take it, Yuu."

Yuu stopped laughing and smiled. Her eyes met Tsunotarou's green ones. "Now, will you tell me more facts?'

Tsunotarou felt something form in his chest. It was a warm and fuzzy feeling that he could not explain. Maybe Lilia knew something about it? "Certainly."

---

The next night they meet, Tsunotarou teleported to the garden. 

"Still running away from suitors?" 

Yuu's eyes widened with excitement, and she stood up. "Tsunotarou! Can you do that again?"

Tsunotarou blinked owlishly. "Do what again?"

"Teleport! When you do that, you leave behind firefly-like lights. They look like tiny stars."

Tsunotarou blinked, and then he smiled. "Alright. I will do it for you." A glow of green light emitted from his body, and he disappeared, leaving behind small sparkles of light. Tsunotarou reappeared, sitting at his spot on the bench. "Are you satisfied?"

Yuu grinned and sat down next to Tsunotarou. "Very." Her eyes gleamed like the stars she was looking at. "Before you came here, I was looking up at the stars. It's something I like to do at home."

"Really?" He joined Yuu in stargazing. "What do you like about them?"

"Do you see those two stars, the really bright ones?" Yuu pointed at two stars sitting diagonal to one another. Both stars shined brightly compared to the rest. "There is a legend in Port O'Bliss about a firefly who was in love with a firefly who was actually a star. The firefly stared at the star at night, professing his love, but he could never touch her. Almost like she was on another planet. The firefly made a wish to be with her. One day, his wish came true, and when you see two stars shining brightly at night, that is the firefly and his love." 

Tsunotarou felt the same feeling in his chest as he stared at Yuu. It was the same as the night before but more intense. "That is a beautiful story."

"I agree. So whenever I feel sad or alone, I look up at the stars and make a wish because I know those two fireflies are listening." Yuu turned to Tsunotarou with a smile on her face. Tsunotarou's heart skipped a beat. "You should do the same thing. We can do one now." She closed her eyes, brought her hands together, and whispered under her breath despite Tsunotarou's heightened hearing. The fae chose to stay quiet out of respect. 

Tsunotarou looked up at the stars again, deep in thought. He felt relaxed around this woman who was practically a stranger. He felt like he could let his guard down around her. The feeling from earlier had increased more, and the fae could not stop thinking about Yuu. Tomorrow was the last night of his party, and he knew what he needed to do. For now, under the witness of the firefly and his love, he would make a wish upon the star and to make Yuu's wish come true. 

---

The third time they met was on the dancefloor. 

"So I won last year's hunt with a…"

Yuu tuned out the next bachelor, her mind filled with thoughts of her friend Tsunotarou. Usually, it would be easy to slip away and go to the garden. Still, the bachelors must have read her mind because they were insistent on showing her off. Yuu wanted her torture to end and meet up with her friend. 

A trumpet silenced the chatter, and Yuu thanked the deity above for hearing her prayer. Her eyes landed on two young men, one with green hair and one with silver hair, entering the balcony. Their eyes scanned the crowd before the green-haired man cleared his throat. Another man with black and pink hair walked in front of them.

"Hello, everyone! I hope that you are having fun tonight. I know I am!" The man laughed, and everyone joined him. "But this is not about me. Tonight is about our king, who finally wants to show himself. So make sure to give him lots of birthday wishes. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you King Malleus Draconia!"

Yuu felt her breath hitch as a familiar head of black hair, striking green eyes, and horns walked out. She felt the world slow down as reality came crashing down. There, the king of Briar Valley was none other than Tsunotarou-

No. Malleus Draconia. 

Yuu felt horrified and heer heartbeat increase. How could she, a guest at this party, treat the king so casually? Why did he let her? Yuu looked around the room, only for her eyes to meet Malleus' staring straight at her. 

"I need to get some air." Yuu quickly said to her companion and ran off from the crowd. She let her feet carry her anywhere in the gigantic castle. Yuu stopped in a long hallway to catch her breath. She let her back rest against the wall and let her body slide down to the floor. Yuu hid her face in her dress as she reflected on the recent events.

Despite it being only two days, Yuu felt happy being around Malleus. Their interactions had no romantic intentions, but there was a connection, and the two clicked. Yuu felt her heart beat faster after making a new friend. Maybe, with more time, there could be something more.

Click Click

The sound of heels coming closer caused Yuu to pick her head up. Two beautiful fae women were heading her way. Both had disapproving looks on their faces. 

"Well, well. You must be the woman the king is fascinated with." One smirked, looking Yuu up and down.

"We heard that the king has been sneaking out a lot. Who knew he was meeting with a human? Why don't you go back to where you came from?" The other scoffed. 

Yuu felt a bad feeling in her chest. "What do you want?" she asked slowly. 

The first one sneered. "You are nothing but a magicless human. You don't deserve to stand next to Malleus."

Yuu felt annoyed. How dare these ladies come in and mock her for being a human! Malleus knew all along and was interested in her. "As if you are any better! You two don't know him like I do."

The second one rolled her eyes. "Maybe we do, maybe we don't, but that does not stop the fact that you are dirt under my shoe."

"What is going on here," A stern but motherly voice asked, causing the group to freeze. Yuu watched as another fae woman entered. She was beautiful like the other woman, and her aura reminded Yuu of the small fae with black and pink hair. 

"Lady Vanrouge!" The women curtsey, causing Yuu to join them despite not knowing the woman. "How are you today?"

Lady Vanrouge only stared at the group. "Fine, but you did not answer my question. What are you doing here?"

"W-we were just talking to our new friend, the human." One girl said nervously, but Lady Vanrouge did not buy it. She crossed her arms and stared at them icily. 

"Really? Then what was the part about the human being dirt under your shoe? Or what was the last thing?" She hummed as she tapped her chin with her finger, pretending to think, "Not worthy of standing next to the King?"

"B-but-"

The fae smiled with a mad glint in her eyes. It mirrored one that the infamous Lilia Vanrouge had with his soldiers, sending chills through the girl's spines. "No buts. Consider yourselves lucky you were not caught by my husband or my son, who, by the way, is a human. Despite that, I still love him, and I will love him as my son no matter what he is. He could be a worm for all I care about, and I will still love him.

Lady Vanrouge smirked evilly and waved the girls off with her hand in a "shoo" motion. "Now get out of my sight before I change my mind and act like my husband." The women squealed and immediately bolted out of the room, leaving Yuu and Lady Vanrouge alone. The fae turned to Yuu with a smile. Her eyes were now softer and had a motherly look to them. "Now, you must be the human I heard about."

"Was it anything bad?"

Lady Vanrouge laughed loudly. "Nonsense! I heard good things about you from my husband, who heard it all from the king. Come now. Why don't I walk you back to the party?"

"I appreciate that. Thank you." The two walked in silence until Yuu spoke up. "So the King talks about me?"

The woman smiled. "Yes, he has been talking about you since you met."

"Even though I am a human?"

"Does that change anything? Do you still want to be Malleus' friend after knowing he is a king?" Yuu shook her head. "See, so you should still be with him. I'm sure he is missing you already."

"Thank you, Lady Vanrouge."

The two made idle chit-chat as they headed to the door leading to the ballroom. As the fae woman opened the door, Yuu's eyes widened as she was face to face with Malleus himself.

"Tsunotarou.."

"Yuu…"

The two were so focused on each other that they failed to notice the shorter face staring at them. Lilia noticed how Malleus had a familiar expression on his face. It was the same one he had when he looked at his wife. Meanwhile, Yuu looked at Malleus like he was the brightest star in the sky. The short fae put the two on two together. He gave his wife a look to which she responded with her own. 

"Oh, this is my favorite song! Would you like to join me for a dance?" Lilia smirked at his wife. 

"Of course, my love." Lady Vanrouge walked to her husband and looped his arm around hers. Her eyes focused on Malleus. "Malleus, do you mind walking Yuu back to the party? I was going to do it, but you two have some things to sort through."

Malleus turned to the woman and nodded. "Yes, I will do that. You have fun. my Lady."

"You as well." The woman smiled and left with Lilia. Now that Yuu and Malleus were alone, the tension in the room increased. 

Malleus' regal stature relaxed, and he had a sad look. "I understand why you would run off, and I apologize. After my announcement, I planned to explain everything, but you were gone before I could get to you." Malleus said. For the king of Briar Valley, he looked like a kicked puppy. 

Yuu smiled sadly and gently grabbed Malleus' hand. "It just threw me off guard, and I apologize for running away. I should have talked to you instead."

Malleus smiled and pulled Yuu into a hug. "You are forgiven, Yuu. However, you owe me a dance. I still want to have my first dance of the night with you."

Yuu smiled and nodded. “I will be honored, but we must reintroduce ourselves first.”

"Of course." Malleus picked up one of Yuu's hands and kissed her knuckles. "I am Malleus Draconia, King of Briar Valley.” He looked at her with a gentle smile. “But you can call me Tsunotarou.” 

Yuu curtsied to Malleus. “You can call me Yuu, a lady from the City of Flowers.”

“Well, Yuu.” Malleus held a hand out to Yuu. “Would you do me the honor of joining me in my first dance?”

Yuu placed her hand on his and looked at Malleus confidently. “Of course.”

Unexpectedly, Malleus leaned down and pressed a feather-like kiss on Yuu’s forehead. “You deserve to spend the rest of the night treated like a princess."

That night, both Yuu and Malleus' wishes came true. Meanwhile, in the night sky, the firefly and his love's light enveloped the couple through the windows as they danced through the night. 

---

Later that night, in Silver's room.

"Sebek, do you think your parents would love you if you were a worm?"

After spending years with Silver hosting the sleepovers, Sebek had heard many weird things coming out of Silver's mouth. The half-fae shifted in his spot next to Silver and stared at him with a "wtf" face. "Silver, you are speaking nonsense. Go to sleep." Sebek huffed and turned around to face away from Silver.

Silver only stared up at the ceiling contemplating the question. He had no idea why, but it came to him randomly during the party. He had spent all night pondering on it. It may be something his parents would know. Speaking of- 

"I think my parents would."

"Go to sleep, Silver!"

Disclaimer: I do not own Twisted Wonderland and its characters. Those belong to Aniplex, Walt Disney Japan, and Yana Toboso.

©: This story belongs to bluesylveon2 2020-23. DO NOT modify, republish, or plagiarize my work.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the Asshole for telling my boyfriend he's not doing enough to make money?

My (24nb) boyfriend (24m) has had some rough time past few months. He was off work for a month in December due to poor mental health and then he missed another month of work due to a minor hand injury that made it impossible to work (he is a bartender). I work full time but get under minimum wage (UK apprenticeship laws, it's legal). During his time off he was only getting the government sick pay which was not enough for rent so I paid for him (we live together). It was a very tough time for me because I wasn't sure if I'd have enough to buy food for with him not contributing and just not doing well in general.

The reason he's not been doing so hot is his job, bartending takes place during anti social hours so we would just miss each other a few days of the week. And the hours in general were bad. Plus some personal stuff, and that cocktail drove him into severe depression and anxiety.

During the time he was off for mental health I didn't say anything, I knew he needed time. He'd spend all days just playing video games and sometimes cleaning the kitchen and the living room. I work a 9-5 so coming back home and still having to do other chores + worrying about making enough for us both took a toll on me too.

I started to run out of patience when he injured his hand. He was just getting back to work when he did it (it was not intended) but it resulted in him being off work more (another month). He at the time found his old DS and sold it, the money he used to buy a new game and the rest he spent on groceries and snacks (he complained how all his money he had to spend on groceries, but I pay most of the time. Or if we shop and 'split' I'll pay for things for "us" and he will pay for things for him).

In the new year he told me he will do "anything to make more money for us" but I guess that just consists of hoping a new job comes down from heavens because he is not taking steps (his current bartending job I applied for him from his indeed account). He also always talks about how much he hates his job, how the hours are shit, the pay is bad...

That's when I snapped, I couldn't keep it in anymore and pointed out that the whole time he's been home and had plenty of time to apply for other jobs. I told him he has no drive to get himself out of any situation and just drifts with the current. I told him that he's been complaining for months but I've not seen him apply for a single job (I work from home half the time so I also see that all he does is play games). I didn't shout, but I feel like I could've been nicer.

It's been so stressful having to provide for us both, and I know money is not everything. I'm not mad at him because he's not a millionaire but he just doesn't do anything to improve his situation. It's like his money is his and my money is ours. I've not gotten myself anything in months because of that...

Anyway, AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[george-weasleys-girl]

I’ve been binge reading your fics all day, and i’d love to request one!

So, we all know that Fred Weasley is always energetic, loud and a troublemaker, right? He’s totally golden retriever energy. Maybe he meets a girl the exact opposite of him- Quiet, Shy, maybe somewhat emo? Like a golden retriever boy x black cat girl trope? Id love to see your perspective on this! 🤍

Such a fun request! I hope you enjoy!!

Opposites Attract Pt. 1

Fred's POV

Fred stopped his loud, boisterous bouncing around and watched as Y/N sat down in her favorite spot under the big oak tree and pulled a book out to read. Of all the girls at Hogwarts, Y/N was the one that fascinated him the most. With her jet-black hair, all-black wardrobe, and her quiet manner, she was the exact opposite of every other girl he'd ever fancied. She was shy, reserved, and even though she had friends, she seemed to prefer being on her own most of the time.

"I wonder what she's reading." Fred strained, trying to make out the title.

George glanced up from the invention he was tinkering with. "Looks like a book to me."

"Don't be cheeky," Fred grumbled. "You know what I mean."

George grinned. "I see you're crushing hard on our little black cat girl."

"I am not crushing on her." Fred looked away to hide his faint blush.

"Ok." George shrugged.

"I'm not."

"Ok."

"Seriously, George, I'm not."

"O-K."

"Ok."

"Ok," George finished. "Now come help me with this."

Fred snuck one final, quick look at Y/N before turning his attention to his twin and their newest invention.

~•~

Y/N's POV

Y/N was nervous. She knew she was being watched by Fred Weasley. And she also knew he had taken an interest in her. At least, that's what her friends said anyway.

She wasn't sure how she felt about that. She'd never had a boyfriend before, and it would be nice to have one. But Fred Weasley? Mischief maker extraordinaire, the life of party, the center of attention everywhere he went. If she dated him, she'd get sucked into that, and the possibility terrified her.

Y/N had spent her life happily being a wallflower. Sure, her black-on-black style garnered a bit of attention from time to time. But it was usually only momentary. Once people realized she wasn't going to do anything interesting, they got bored and turned their focus elsewhere. That suited her just fine. She liked being the invisible one. The one everyone's eyes slipped over.

Daring a quick peak through her bangs, she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw she was no longer being scrutinized. Good, she thought. Now, maybe she could relax and get some reading done before dinner. Putting the older Weasley twin promptly out of her mind, she turned her attention to her newest potions book.

~•~

Fred's POV

Fred stared at the back of Y/N's lovely head as she worked on an assignment in Potions. She excelled at the subject and was probably the only non-Slytherien student who didn't think Snape was horrible. "He's really not that bad." Fred had overheard her telling one of her friends.

Indeed, Snape did treat her differently than most of Hogwarts' students. While she didn't receive the preferential royal treatment reserved only for Slytherin, he never tormented her as he did everyone else. He generally just left her alone, occasionally praising her on her potions work.

Fred couldn't help but wonder what sort of spell she cast to achieve this unprecedented feat. Maybe when he asked her out to Hogsmede, she'd share her secret. He sighed, gazing at her lips as she turned to speak to her partner when someone slapped the back of his head.

"Ow!" Fred looked up to see Snape glaring down at him.

"Save your Don Juan scheming for after class, Weasley." Snape ordered, rolling his eyes.

Fred rubbed the back of his head, pointedly ignoring George's smirking, knowing look as he watched the professor stalk back to his desk. Once again, he wondered why Snape left Y/N out of the matter. If she'd been anyone else, he would've made a point to embarrass her, too. What was so special about Y/N?

Snape's POV

Snape had a soft spot for Y/N. Aside from her loner nature and her penchant for black, which reminded him of himself, she was one of the most brilliant students he'd ever taught, and that was not a term he threw around lightly.

A few days into her first year, Y/N approached him after class to discuss a particular potion in her textbook. She was shy and uncertain of herself, but her questions and insights broached ideas that went far beyond anything he taught in his most advanced classes. Snape was impressed in spite of himself.

Y/N didn't have much practical experience with mixing potions, obviously, being too young to practice magic outside of school. But, she was incredibly well-read on the subject, spending hours pouring over any potions book she could get her hands on.

Mid-way through her second year after she'd read every potions book in the library, Snape began letting her borrow books from his private collection. Every couple of weeks, like clockwork, she'd stop by after class to trade out another book and ask a litany of thoughtful questions.

Much to his surprise, Snape found himself looking forward to their little chats. It was lovely to have a student who wasn't a complete dolt for once. And whose mastery of potions made her a worthwhile conversationalist. However, if he were completely honest with himself, he mostly enjoyed them because it was like having a friend.

~•~

Fred's POV

Y/N was sitting in her usual spot reading. Fred smiled at her. She looked extra adorable today with the little fall leaf that had fluttered into her hair unnoticed.

"Hi!" Fred greeted, striding over to her.

"Umm, hi." Y/N looked up at him for the briefest of moments before her eyes darted away.

"Mind if I join you?" He was all but bouncing in place.

"I-uh-ok." Y/N stuttered.

He flopped down beside her with all the grace of a drunk walrus. "Beautiful fall day, yeah?"

"Yeah--" she mumbled, shrinking away from him.

Fred noticed. "Oh shit, sorry, am I coming on too strong?"

Y/N only blinked.

"I am, aren't I?"

Unsure how to respond, Y/N continued to say nothing.

"Dammit! George told me to tone it down," Fred rambled on. "But did I listen?" He shifted away from her so he was no longer up in her face.

Y/N swallowed, watching his every move. "C-can I help you with something?"

"As a matter of fact, you can," Fred smiled. "You see, I have this little problem. George and Lee both have girlfriends they're taking to Hogsmede on Saturday, and I don't, and I'd really prefer not to go alone. I'd love it if you accompanied me. What do you say?"

@princess-paramour @milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @zvummyummy @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @georgie-weasley

~•~

[tsarinatorment]

Michael Yew's Fatal Flaw

This meta is the fault of @apollosgiftofprophecy who made the questionable decision of asking about Michael's fatal flaw in my vicinity the other day.

People who have been following me for a while may recall I once answered an ask about Apollo kid fatal flaws, and mentioned Michael there. Please ignore what I said back then because I'd barely even started picking him apart to see what made him tick, and my conclusions there have since been deemed rather surface-level!

The first question, of course, is what is a fatal flaw? What makes it different from a regular character flaw? The clue's in the name, I think - fatal flaw is one that's most likely to one day result in the hero's death, as Annabeth also suggests in Sea of Monsters:

“I don’t know, Percy, but every hero has one. If you don’t find it and learn to control it … well, they don’t call it ‘fatal’ for nothing.”

Athena gives us a little more to go on in The Titan's Curse:

"In each case, your loved ones have been used to lure you into Kronos's traps. Your fatal flaw is personal loyalty, Percy. You do not know when it is time to cut your losses. To save a friend, you would sacrifice the world. In a hero of the prophecy, that is very, very dangerous." I balled my fists. "That's not a flaw. Just because I want to help my friends—" "The most dangerous flaws are those which are good in moderation," she said. "Evil is easy to fight. Lack of wisdom… that is very hard indeed."

Of course, she's talking specifically to Percy about his flaw here, but there are certainly broader points to be inferred from this. When you break down all her warnings, it boils down near enough to "your fatal flaw is one you either cannot fight, or do not want to fight, because you think it is right/justified", which is interesting. It's a flaw that you don't, necessarily, recognise as a flaw, which makes it difficult to do anything about because how can something that's right be wrong?

As Athena says, the most dangerous flaws are those which are good in moderation - flaws that, in most situations, actually help, or are perceived to do so. These are the flaws most likely to kill the hero - and maybe others, as well.

With that out of the way, let's start picking apart Michael properly.

Generally, I see anger, pride or stubbornness put forwards as suggestions for his fatal flaw, so I'll look at each of those and see how well they actually fit. On top of that, I'm also going to explore two other contenders that I've come to notice from the hundreds of times I've re-read his scenes - protectiveness, and love.

First up, let's talk about Anger.

Anger is the one that seems to spring to mind most readily for some people (myself included), and it's hardly surprising given his introductory scene:

She was in the midst of yelling at Michael Yew, the new head counselor for Apollo, which looked kind of funny since Clarisse was a foot taller. Michael had taken over the Apollo cabin after Lee Fletcher died in battle last summer. Michael stood four feet six, with another two feet of attitude. He reminded me of a ferret, with a pointy nose and scrunched-up features—either because he scowled so much or because he spent too much time looking down the shaft of an arrow. "It's our loot!" he yelled, standing on his tiptoes so he could get in Clarisse's face. "If you don't like it, you can kiss my quiver!" [...] I couldn't believe Clarisse and Michael standing over her, arguing about something as stupid as loot, when she'd just lost Beckendorf. "STOP IT!" I yelled. "What are you guys doing?" Clarisse glowered at me. "Tell Michael not to be a selfish jerk." "Oh, that's perfect, coming from you," Michael said.

(As an aside, I love Michael's "kiss my quiver" line because hip quivers are very much a thing and if you think of his quiver as on his hip instead of his back... he's basically saying "kiss my ass" but in a kid-book-friendly way)

Michael's introduction is full of aggression - he's standing on tiptoes, getting "in Clarisse's face", and yelling at her. To make matters worse, it's in front of a grieving Silena which makes him (and Clarisse, but we've already had four books on how much Clarisse can be a bitch in Percy's opinion) look incredibly callous and uncaring. Percy's rather unflattering description about "two feet of attitude" and "because he scowled so much" adds to the overall impression that Michael's a right piece of work as well. Thanks, Percy.

It's a good introduction, though. This is memorable, as far as character introductions go (far more memorable than the first time we're introduced to Beckendorf, or Silena, etc.), and it's full of personality - personality that says Michael is not afraid to throw hands and will do it anywhere, anytime. It directly opposes him with Clarisse, but in such a way that makes them seem like similar characters, and we know anger/rage is one of Clarisse's traits as well.

This scene isn't a one-off, either. We get the full feud against the Ares cabin, which Michael spearheads:

We ducked as Michael Yew's chariot dive-bombed an Ares camper. The Ares camper tried to stab him and cuss him out in rhyming couplets. He was pretty creative about rhyming those cuss words. "We're fighting for our lives," I said, "and they're bickering about some stupid chariot." "They'll get over it," Annabeth said. "Clarisse will come to her senses."

The fact that it's Clarisse, not Michael, that Annabeth thinks is going to stand down also says a lot about how she sees the pair of them, and she must know Michael reasonably well, so this adds another note to the impression that Michael can be even more unreasonable than Clarisse (although it should also be noted that in this feud Michael is the one in the right, and Chiron has said as much to the campers, or at least the head counsellors - and of course from a narrative point of view, Clarisse is a far more familiar character for readers).

Michael himself also admits later on that he lost his temper with Clarisse again off-screen:

Michael shrugged. "Yeah, well, I called her some names when she said she still wouldn't fight. I doubt that helped. Here come the uglies!"

Those names certainly weren't ones for polite company - or a children's book. I think we can confidently say that Michael certainly has a temper, much like his father is legendary for.

But is it a fatal flaw? Well, sadly we have a scene that's implied to be Michael's death scene (I say implied because we never saw a body and a lot of things don't quite add up, so I prefer to think of him as not-dead, but for the purposes of this meta we'll consider it his death scene), so let's go look at that.

He struck the bridge with the butt of his scythe, and a wave of pure force blasted me backward. Cars went careening. Demigods—even Luke's own men—were blown off the edge of the bridge. Suspension cords whipped around, and I skidded halfway back to Manhattan. I got unsteadily to my feet. The remaining Apollo campers had almost made it to the end of the bridge, except for Michael Yew, who was perched on one of the suspension cables a few yards away from me, His last arrow was notched in his bow.

Michael's final stand happens immediately after several demigods - including his own siblings - are just blown clean off the bridge by Kronos. Is it a decision spurred by anger after things going wrong after they were finally going right? It would make sense.

However, there is one big issue with anger as his fatal flaw. Obviously, Michael does have this temper, and it does get out of hand, but we only ever see it get out of hand in the (relative) safety of camp. The Michael we see in Manhattan actually seems very calm and in control the entire time. He's observant and quick-witted, and is the only head counsellor to spot (or at least verbalise) a potential flaws in Percy and Annabeth's plan.

"He's right," Annabeth said. "The gods of the wind should keep Kronos's forces away from Olympus by air, so he'll try a ground assault. We have to cut off the entrances to the island." "They have boats," Michael Yew pointed out. An electric tingle went down my back. Suddenly I understood Athena's advice: Remember the rivers. "I'll take care of the boats," I said. Michael frowned. "How?" "Just leave it to me," I said.

Of course, Percy being the son of Poseidon can plug that massive gap, but it took Michael asking the question for him to make the important connection that he needed to.

This calmness continues into the battle itself, as well.

Michael Yew ran up to us. He was definitely the shortest commando I'd ever seen. He had a bandaged cut on his arm. His ferrety face was smeared with soot and his quiver was almost empty, but he was smiling like he was having a great time. "Glad you could join us," he said. "Where are the other reinforcements?" "For now, we're it," I said. "Then we're dead," he said. [...] "We have to fall back," Michael said. "I've got Kayla and Austin setting traps farther down the bridge." "No," I said. "Bring your campers forward to this position and wait for my signal. We're going to drive the enemy back to Brooklyn." Michael laughed. "How do you plan to do that?" I drew my sword. "Percy," Annabeth said, "let me come with you." "Too dangerous," I said. "Besides, I need you to help Michael coordinate the defensive line. I'll distract the monsters. You group up here. Move the sleeping mortals out of the way. Then you can start picking off monsters while I keep them focused on me. If anybody can do all that, you can." Michael snorted. "Thanks a lot."

No temper tantrums, no yelling like he did with Clarisse earlier - he's matter of fact when he realises they don't really have reinforcements (not knowing, of course, about Percy's little Styx bath), he doesn't argue with Percy when Percy starts taking command. He continues to say his piece and get his point across, but at no point do we ever get the sense that Michael is anything other than perfectly in control at any point during the battle - which is not what you would expect from a rage-based fatal flaw.

For example, contrast Michael's scenes with Clarisse later in the battle:

The real Clarisse looked up at the drakon, her face filled with absolute hate. I'd seen a look that intense only once before. Her father, Ares, had worn the same expression when I'd fought him in single combat. "YOU WANT DEATH?" Clarisse screamed at the drakon. "WELL, COME ON!" She grabbed her spear from the fallen girl. With no armor or shield, she charged the drakon.

and

"I AM CLARISSE, DRAKON-SLAYER!" she yelled. "I will kill you ALL! Where is Kronos? Bring him out! Is he a coward?" "Clarisse!" I yelled. "Stop it. Withdraw!" "What's the matter, Titan lord?" she yelled. "BRING IT ON!" There was no answer from the enemy. Slowly, they began to fall back behind a dracaenae shield wall, while Clarisse drove in circles around Fifth Avenue, daring anyone to cross her path. The two- hundred-foot-long drakon carcass made a hollow scraping noise against the pavement, like a thousand knives. Meanwhile, we tended our wounded, bringing them inside the lobby. Long after the enemy had retreated from sight, Clarisse kept riding up and down the avenue with her horrible trophy, demanding that Kronos meet her battle.

Calm and collected whomst? Not to say that Clarisse's temper isn't understandable here, but this fits much more in line with Athena's description of a fatal flaw - one that seems justified, right, even (and later on, Clarisse gets frozen by a Hyperborean Giant, so this does come back to bite her!), as opposed to the way Michael seems to stay in control of his temper even when his siblings are being killed around him.

With all that in mind, while I willa gree that anger is a flaw of Michael's, it certainly doesn't seem to check the boxes to be a fatal flaw, so let's move onto the next one: Pride.

Pride has its roots in the same parts of the narration as anger, so this section is going to be rather shorter because I don't need to rehash all the quotes again. The main thing that stands out on the pride side of the feud, specifically, is that it's completely needless for Michael to keep agitating Clarisse and the Ares cabin.

Clarisse turned to Chiron. "You're in charge, right? Does my cabin get what we want or not?" Chiron shuffled his hooves. "My dear, as I've already explained, Michael is correct. Apollo's cabin has the best claim. Besides, we have more important matters—" [...] "I see," Clarisse said. "And the senior counselors? Are any of you going to side with me?" Nobody was smiling now. None of them met Clarisse's eyes.

Chiron's put his hooves down on the matter - the Apollo cabin has the best claim to the chariot, Clarisse is the aggressor here. The other head counsellors all agree with that, too. Michael could, and given the upcoming war, should, ignore her and put his and his siblings' focus towards the war and not an argument he's already won.

But he doesn't. His chariot is attacking the campers - the Apollo kids aren't just defending themselves from the upset Ares kids, they're on the offensive themselves, arguably more so than the Ares campers.

As we crossed the commons area, a fight broke out between the Ares and Apollo cabins. Some Apollo campers armed with firebombs flew over the Ares cabin in a chariot pulled by two pegasi. I'd never seen the chariot before, but it looked like a pretty sweet ride. Soon, the roof of the Ares cabin was burning, and naiads from the canoe lake rushed over to blow water on it. Then the Ares campers called down a curse, and all the Apollo kids' arrows turned to rubber. The Apollo kids kept shooting at the Ares kids, but the arrows bounced off. Two archers ran by, chased by an angry Ares kid who was yelling in poetry: "Curse me, eh? I'll make you pay! / I don't want to rhyme all day!"

This feels a lot like he's trying to validate that yes, the chariot really is his cabin's, and the fact that Clarisse keeps insisting otherwise despite every non-Ares member of the camp being on Michael's side is insulting/undermining the Apollo cabin's claim.

It also sounds like he made sure to have the final word against Clarisse when she still refused to come and fight, which is a very prideful action.

"Nah," Michael said. "Left it at camp. I told Clarisse she could have it. Whatever, you know? Not worth fighting about anymore. But she said it was too late. We'd insulted her honor for the last time or some stupid thing." "Least you tried," I said. Michael shrugged. "Yeah, well, I called her some names when she said she still wouldn't fight. I doubt that helped. Here come the uglies!"

The thing is, though, that we hit a snag with the pride theory at this point for a similar reason to the anger one - as soon as there's something bigger and more immediate to focus on, Michael sets it aside.

He gives up the chariot they were fighting over - the chariot that, rightfully, is the Apollo cabin's - for no reason other than because he knew that they needed the Ares cabin to come and fight and it was the only thing he could think of that he could do to try and change Clarisse's mind - made even more stark when compared with Michael's original, in-camp, reaction to Clarisse's declaration.

Clarisse threw her knife on the Ping-Pong table. "All of you can fight this war without Ares. Until I get satisfaction, no one in my cabin is lifting a finger to help. Have fun dying." The counselors were all too stunned to say anything as Clarisse stormed out of the room. Finally Michael Yew said, "Good riddance."

It's true that Michael does get upset when Clarisse ignores his sacrifice of the chariot and still refuses to fight, but I think that's understandable given the situation (and he is, still, a teenage boy with a temper). It doesn't change the fact that he does it, however, nor the fact that Michael doesn't rescind the sacrifice and bring the chariot with him regardless, despite its potential stragetic uses in the war. Pride certainly doesn't seem to have much if any weight in his final stand, either, so I'd say that like anger, this doesn't actually fit as his fatal flaw, even if it might be somewhat of a personal trait/flaw.

At this point, it seems a little bit like a moot point to poke at Stubbornness because most of the counter-arguments for anger and pride also address this, but I'll quickly go over it anyway because this is the first one that properly shows itself all the way through Michael's appearances.

I've already mentioned the way he doesn't back down in the chariot feud, which is pride, yes, but also stubbornness - he won't leave it alone, won't let Clarisse stake her own claim on it, keeps fighting past the point of necessity over it.

But then we have his final scene, where he stands his ground. There's no indication that Michael even tried to run when the bridge crumbled.

I got unsteadily to my feet. The remaining Apollo campers had almost made it to the end of the bridge, except for Michael Yew, who was perched on one of the suspension cables a few yards away from me, His last arrow was notched in his bow. "Michael, go!" I screamed. "Percy, the bridge!" he called. "It's already weak!" At first I didn't understand. Then I looked down and saw fissures in the pavement. Patches of the road were half melted from Greek fire. The bridge had taken a beating from Kronos's blast and the exploding arrows. "Break it!" Michael yelled. "Use your powers!" [...] I turned to thank Michael Yew, but the words died in my throat. Twenty feet away, a bow lay in the street. Its owner was nowhere to be seen. "No!" I searched the wreckage on my side of the bridge. I stared down at the river. Nothing.

Michael completely ignores Percy telling him to run, tells him to break the bridge that he's currently on and clearly has no intentions of leaving, not with that notched arrow that he then seems to have fired, given that there's no arrow later on. This seems the closest we've got so far to a flaw that goes beyond a simple character flaw and into the fatal category.

Except.

He's a stubborn character, but just like with anger, like with pride, Michael keeps putting it aside when it might otherwise cause issues during the battle - he questions Percy's plans more than once, but despite that, he cedes command to Percy on Williamsburg Bridge, follows his orders instead of continuing with his own strategies, and generally shows that he's exactly the sort of person you want by your side/at your back when you're fighting. Michael's flexible and prepared to change and adapt as the situation does - which is pretty much the opposite of stubbornness, so while at first glance it seemed like a strong candidate it's once again contradicted by the scenes on Williamsburg Bridge.

So, that's the three usual suspects that arise from the chariot feud all falling apart once we rearch the battlefield. Michael is certainly passionate about the fight - more than once, Percy implies that he seems to actually be having a good time on the battlefield and there's no other explanation other than eagerness for this moment:

I sliced through armor like it was made of paper. Snake women exploded. Hellhounds melted to shadow. I slashed and stabbed and whirled, and I might have even laughed once or twice—a crazy laugh that scared me as much as it did my enemies. I was aware of the Apollo campers behind me shooting arrows, disrupting every attempt by the enemy to rally. Finally, the monsters turned and fled—about twenty left alive out of two hundred. I followed with the Apollo campers at my heels. "Yes!" yelled Michael Yew. "That's what I'm talking about!"

But despite all of this, that passion doesn't seem to be based in anger, pride, or stubbornness, despite those being the first things people seem to think of when they think about Michael - and that's why I have two more options added to the list to explore.

Moving on, then, I'll start with Protectiveness.

So, just now I said that stubbornness is what caused Michael's final moments, but is it really? It was certainly part of it, but also - as I mentioned earlier, when talking about anger, Michael's final stand is immediately after some of his siblings have been thrown off the bridge - having already seen at least one other sibling killed earlier:

Hellhounds leaped ahead of the line from time to time. Most were destroyed with arrows, but one got hold of an Apollo camper and dragged him away. I didn't see what happened to him next. I didn't want to know.

Siblings, of course, that as their head counsellor he is the one in charge of and responsible for - it's likely that he's the oldest in the cabin as well (although not guaranteed), and that these are all his younger siblings that are getting killed/seriously injured/status unknown. We're told that the "remaining" Apollo campers are running for the end of the bridge and retreating as far as possible - all of them except for Michael, who was with them to start with but stopped and turned to face the enemy.

Michael and his archers tried to retreat, but Annabeth stayed right beside me, fighting with her knife and mirrored shield as we slowly backed up the bridge.

Followed by

The remaining Apollo campers had almost made it to the end of the bridge, except for Michael Yew, who was perched on one of the suspension cables a few yards away from me. His last arrow was notched in his bow.

This is the point when Michael makes the decision that the bridge has to be destroyed, figures out how to destroy it, and basically orders Percy to do it. I've got a whole other argument about how Michael is the reason Olympus didn't fall that first night of the siege, but at this point I think it's blatantly obvious that the only thing Michael is thinking about is protecting his siblings. Why else would he put himself (tiny archer who should never, ever, be on the front lines - which is hinted at by the fact he still seeks out as high a ground as he can get aka the cables) as the rear guard, the barrier between an entire army and his fleeing siblings?

He's protecting his siblings - he's guarding their backs as they flee to safety and he's finding a way to stop them from being pursued, even if it kills him in the process. It's clearly the right decision to him, the only decision he thinks he can take - and it's textbook fatal flaw.

But before I settle on that, there's one more I want to talk about, which is really an extension of protectiveness, and that's Love.

I'll admit that love always feels like a bit of a cheat to me as a fatal flaw - it's a bit of a catch-all, in that if you argue hard enough you can pull back almost any character to love in some way (which is why Aphrodite is such an underrated yet powerful goddess), and it's nowhere near as obvious for Michael as it is for Apollo and Nico (yes I know what Bianca said, but consider: she didn't know what she was talking about. Nico's fatal flaw is a whole other meta, though), but I think it fills in a few gaps that protectiveness leaves a little open.

There's something that gets overlooked a lot when Michael gets discussed, especially the chariot feud, despite the fact that Percy outright states it.

Michael had taken over the Apollo cabin after Lee Fletcher died in battle last summer.

No sugar-coating, no forgetting about a background character that got all of two pre-death appearances - Lee was killed in battle, and Michael was the one that took over the cabin from him.

We never get any canon information on Michael and Lee's relationship, but obviously they knew each other well, given that Michael's the next most senior kid - and isn't that the kicker. Because this line tells us one very important thing: Michael had to step into his big brother's suddenly-vacated shoes in the immediate aftermath of a battle, with no time to grieve.

We even have a comparison to make right in that same scene:

Even Jake Mason, the hastily appointed new counselor from Hephaestus, managed a faint smile.

Jake's also been shoved into the same role, a role we later find out he never wanted and never recovered from - big brother's dead, your turn to step up and lead the cabin in war. Most of the counsellors are laughing but all Jake can do is a faint smile. He's not okay, and you wouldn't expect him to be - and in The Lost Hero he's even more blatant about the fact that he's not okay (same as Will, in fact) - so, clearly, Michael is not okay, either.

The chariot feud is a whole mess of emotions - anger, pride and stubbornness are ones I've already covered - but I never see anyone talk about grief, and how Michael's been forced to lead a cabin in the wake of the death of his older sibling (the first wartime promotion, really - the Stolls situation isn't quite the same), and how he has to be at least somewhat off-balance, because grief is a tricky little thing and there's no way it hasn't got its nasty little claws in Michael, and that only a few scant months - a year at most - after Lee's death, it's still very, very raw.

And there's a strong correlation between love and grief. "What is grief but love perservering?" "Grief is the price we pay for love" - there's a neverending list of sayings about grief and love.

Then there's the bridge. There's Michael putting Austin and Kayla right at the back, setting traps but a long way back from the front line. There's the way he knew that without the Ares cabin they weren't going to win so he surrendered the chariot in the hopes of getting the front line fighters to join in - the ones that will stand between the archers and the enemy, between his siblings and the enemy. There's, again, the way he stood his ground as a barrier between Kronos and his army and his siblings, even though if Percy hadn't destroyed the bridge he would've been overrun and killed (and he was in such a precarious position that breaking the bridge... well, we know what happened or do we).

But also there's the fact that Michael was fighting at all. The fact that Michael wanted to fight - when Percy gives him the opportunity to take the fight to Kronos, to fight back rather than just numbly defending the bridge/Manhattan/Olympus, Michael seizes it.

His ferrety face was smeared with soot and his quiver was almost empty, but he was smiling like he was having a great time.

"That was my last sonic arrow," Michael said. "A gift from your dad?" I asked. "God of music?" Michael grinned wickedly.

I followed with the Apollo campers at my heels. "Yes!" yelled Michael Yew. "That's what I'm talking about!"

He's right there on the front line, it's so obvious that he's there because he wants to be, because he believes in their cause. Because he loves Apollo.

It's never said in so many words (although we know Apollo has interacted with Michael because he's given him those sonic arrows), but it's there in Michael's actions, in how he never falters in the pro-god side of the war despite losing sibling after sibling after sibling to it - Michael has to love Apollo for anything else to make sense.

It's his siblings he sacrifices himself for, but it's his father he chose to fight for. And it's both that he died for.

If that's not a fatal flaw in action, what is?

[une-femme-de-lettres]

Insubordination | Part 1

Summary: Tired of fixing up things after Kizaru’s messing ups, Akainu hires an assistant to help his colleague perform his duties correctly. A good idea it seemed, until Kizaru’s natural extraversion got the best of you.

Characters: Kizaru, Akainu, Assistant!Reader

Parings: Kizaru|Borsalino x Assistant!Reader

Word count: 2800

Warnings: Smut, explicit sexual content (not in this part)

A/N: Finally writing some real stuff for Kizaru! I enjoy this so much so far! (I had to split this one into two part cause it was getting way too long)

‘Focused’ wasn’t exactly an appropriate adjective to describe Admiral Kizaru, especially when it came to his position and work in the Marines. Akainu, on the other hand, was a very thorough and observant man, so he made a point, as soon as he got promoted to the place of Fleet Admiral, to hire an assistant for his ever-distracted colleague.

Hiring an assistant for an officer of the Marines wasn’t unseen, but it was rather rare, as most of the typical work of an assistant was often given to subordinates. You had been selected after a series of various interviews and tests. The final step of this process had led you to Admiral Akainu’s office, where you frankly hoped you would never have to face him again.

All this was about three months ago. By now, you had gotten used to working for the admiral. Reports, dispatch orders, meetings, general paperwork, you got to take care of everything. It wasn’t exactly an easy work due to the amount of things to do in one day, but you quickly got the hang of it. The work was fulfilling when, at the end of the week, you knew every little thing was sorted out and taken care of, and your boss was satisfied.

Today was another normal day. It was pretty quiet in the headquarters as a bunch of Marines were dispatched somewhere on an island nearby. It was indeed quiet, yet you were quite restless. It was precisely thirty four minutes past nine and Kizaru hadn’t shown up to work yet.

You mindlessly took a glance at the clock sitting on your desk while filing some documents in anticipation for a meeting you had to attend later that day. You put the file aside on your desk and sighed, pressing the palms of your hands on the fabric of your pencil skirt.

Kizaru being late to work wasn’t unheard of. But you had promised Admiral Akainu to make sure he was on time, if not early, from now on. That proved to be a difficult task as the man was rarely responding to his baby den den mushi, probably most of the time because he forgot how to turn it on.

However, outside his mishaps and overall carelessness, working with him wasn’t all that bad. He was always kind and respectful to you. He was also very friendly, which you appreciated as you spent most of your day in the headquarters where practically no one talked to you unless they had some business with Kizaru.

He always greeted you with a warm smile when he got to work, often time complimenting you in some way. Unbeknownst to you, you had grown eager to hear his praising every morning. You had slowly noticed your mood change drastically when he was around. You had first blamed it on the lack of social interaction in your workplace. But you eventually realized that you might actually have a slight crush on your superior. Slight…

Your days usually went the same. He would come to work and you would brief him about the things to do today. He would listen to you religiously and you would smile, knowing part of your job was already done. And sometimes, just like a few days ago, he would go a little further to make sure you knew your presence was appreciated.

“You look very elegant today, Y/N,” he said with a smile as he passed by your desk, “it’s always a pleasure to have you around.”

“Ah, thank you Admiral…” you responded, smiling back, your head bowing ever so slightly in gratitude. You felt heat rise to your face at his words and mindlessly lifted your hand above your head to check no stand of hair was loose in your hair-do.

Most days went like that. You would often times find yourself both very pleased and awkward in the face of his compliments and praises. Put secretly, in the dead of night, these scenes from the past day would replay in your mind. And you would imagine more. More praises, more smiles… touches and moans…

But today wasn’t one of those days, you reminded yourself as you looked over at your clock. You honestly didn’t know what to do with yourself now that you had sorted everything out for the day. You were just missing one key element, him.

You frantically typed the number of his den den mushi, simultaneously grabbing the receiver. As you were about to finish dialing the number, Kizaru’s tall figure finally appeared at the corner of the hallway. You sighed and hang up, waiting for him to get to your desk.

He was walking fairly nonchalantly, seemingly distracted by a few marines passing by him on his way to you. You trotted towards him as to not waste any more time.

“Where have you been?” you asked, practically scolding him while trying to rid him of his coat. “If he sees you arriving late, my job is on the line,” you said, leaving him to go and hang the heavy white garment on the coat rack.

“Sorry, I got distracted on my way,” he said apologetically, scratching the back of his head. “And you know I would never let that happen,” he added as he was following you inside his office. He sat at his desk as you quickly laid out the files your prepared for today.

“You could’ve warned be, I’ve been trying to reach you,” you said, glancing at him briefly. He nodded and reached into the interior pocket of his jacket, getting out his baby den den mushi.

“This thing won’t work ever since yesterday,” he said, his voice lowering awkwardly the more he spoke. You held out your hand to take the snail.

“You’ve got to turn it on, like this, watch,” you explained calmly, showing him the proper way to use it before handing it back to him.

You didn’t waste any more time and opened the first file on the desk. You started going over each task you had to do complete today. He listened to you in silence, never interrupting. You could see he was finally making the effort to focus on his work and it gave you a rush of confidence.

“What would I do without you, Y/N?” he finally said once you were done, his eyes fixed onto yours, his gaze filled with awe. You chuckled awkwardly at his words and felt yourself getting distracted again by the praise.

“I’m glad I can be of service to you, Admiral,” you said with a serious tone and a strong nod, trying to collect your thoughts.

You quickly got started on your day after that. It went quite smoothly from then on. Kizaru seemed to make a point to stay focused, as if to compensate for his late arrival this morning. You were quite appreciative of this and it made you hopeful. He was more and more inclined to follow your advice these past few weeks and it seemed like your efforts were paying off.

________

“Hey, Y/N.” Kizaru’s voice got your out of a very monotonous session of typewriting as he approached the front of your desk. Hands in his pockets, he bent over ever so slightly to talk to you. “I’d like to take you out for lunch today,” he said. You paused your task to listen and reflect on his proposition.

“I’d love to, but,” you started.

“Alright, great!” he announced with a smile and a clap of his hands. He was a little too excited as you tried to tell him this wouldn’t work out. You stood up and walked to the side of your desk.

“Admiral, the meeting is at twelve o’clock,” you said, trying to catch his gaze with your eyes. “Surely the representatives will have planned something to eat during the meeting,” you explained as he looked at you. He seemed a bit disappointed but still determined.

“Well, I’d prefer we go out,” he said, bending towards you again, a little closer this time as he tried to keep his voice low. “We’ll be back before anyone notices,” he assured you. You sighed, crossing your arms while holding his gaze. “And before the meeting, I promise,” he added in a quiet voice.

“Fine,” you let out, rolling your eyes slightly.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he replied with the enthusiasm you liked to hear in his voice. He smiled widely and suddenly pulled you into a hug of sorts. You didn’t have time to fully register his movement when he planted a dramatic kiss on your temple. You gasped and felt your face heat up as he let go and walked back to his office to grab his coat. You took a moment to regain your senses as you could still feel his arms around you. So warm…

“Don’t thank me until we get away with it,” you said with a chuckle as he passed you again, handing you your own exterior garment to put on.

________

You had to give him that, it was surely good thinking on his part. You definitely needed some time to breathe outside and away from your desk. You were used to him being very talkative all the time but you hadn’t expected to talk that much yourself.

You had been conversing about a dozen of different topics by the time your waiter brought you your desserts. From the way you spent daily life, the hobbies you were interested in in your spare time, your family and history all the way to funny anecdotes that were almost irrelevant for the conversation but that you were eager to share. You had talked about anything and everything.

He talked to you too, of course, it wasn’t a one way conversation. But he mostly listened. You could feel your heart beat slightly faster when he reacted to your words, whether in surprise, enthusiasm or laughter. Sometimes when he would go on about his young years in the marines, you would catch yourself staring into his eyes for a little too long. Then, you would look down briefly to your plate and rearrange your clothes in a quick flick of your wrist.

You found it very easy to talk to him. So easy in fact that when you heard ringing of his den den mushi in the pocket of his jacket, your heart skipped a beat. You both paused for a second and he watched your eyes widen. The waiter approached with the check and you didn’t know what possessed you when you bent over the table to grab your superior’s wrist, turning it briefly to look at his gold plated watch.

Quarter past twelve.

“Shit,” you let out, abruptly standing from your seat and gathering your belongings. “Shit,” you repeated, unable to find anything else to describe the situation. You gestured for your superior to start packing too as he was still stunned from your previous action.

The waiter watched you both quickly pack up everything and quietly thanked Kizaru when he left a consequent amount of money on the table, telling him to keep the change.

In one swoop, you were both out of the restaurant into the streets. You kept a fast pace, almost running towards your destination as you cursed your superior for letting you get distracted and for laughing the way he did.

You slowed down for a mere second and gripped his forearm tightly, trying to get him to move quicker. He burst out laughing. A laughter, which to your surprise and displeasure, was very infectious. Your heart was beating fast from the adrenaline rushing through your veins and you found yourself chuckling as he caught up with you, bending to speaking closer to your ear.

“Come on, Y/N,” he started, “isn’t it fun to break the rules sometimes?” he asked with a genuine smile. You looked at him from the corner of your eyes, suddenly painfully aware of the way your hand held his arm. You watched him sustain eye contact for a few seconds, waiting for an answer. You couldn’t help the smile blooming on your lips.

“It’s quite… exciting,” you let out, looking forward again.

“Good,” you heard him say, as he smiled from the corner of his lip.

You had to give him that, the rush you felt in this instant, in this setting, was something you had longed to feel for quite some time now.

________

Despite your late arrival, the meeting took place as planned. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, expect for you. It had been a very slowly and painful torture session as your boss, Fleet Admiral Skazuki stared at you for the whole duration of the meeting. You had forced yourself to put on your best show of discipline and thoroughness before him, listening attentively to what was said and taking rigorous notes.

But this wasn’t enough to distract him from what had just happened. And a sense of impending doom washed over you as he immediately directed you to his office once the meeting was done. You had no way out of this situation and you briefly looked back to Kizaru for some sort of support, only finding him being held back into another conversation.

He looked back at you, his eyes suddenly darkening as he caught a glimpse of your distress. The last image you caught was of him trying to cut the conversation short.

You hadn’t expected to find yourself in that office so soon. And you surely hadn’t planned on facing him again, at least not in this setting. You stood straight, your hands gathered in front of you with your head slightly bent forward.

“You are supposed to keep him in check,” he started through greeted teeth, standing in front of you, towering over you. “that is what I hired you for!” he finished, his voice slightly louder despite himself as he tried to contain his fury. “So do your damn job!”

You flinched slightly at his words and bent further down in apology.

“I’m deeply sorry, Sir,” you said, trying to put as much confidence in your voice as possible. “This won’t happen again,” you said with a nod, straightening up to face him fully again when Kizaru came barging through the door behind you.

“Don’t you dare blame her,” he warned, quickly approaching his colleague, pointing a threatening finger at him. “She had no say in this!” he added, making your eyes widen slightly.

You watched Akainu pounder his option, his gaze blazing with rage against his colleague. He briefly looked back at you before turning fully to Kizaru again.

“And you’d do better to remember to do your job as well,” he snapped back, approaching dangerously close to his colleague. They remained still and silent for a few seconds. They said nothing but the look in their eyes were worth a thousand words. You feared a fight would break you here and there if they continued like this. Fortunately, Akainu stepped back, his face keeping that stern look, his demeanor still firm and commanding.

“This is the first time I have to say this,” he started speaking again, looking at Kizaru and you in turn, making you shiver slightly. “And I hope for you it is also the last.”

The walk back to Kizaru’s office was silent. You made your best effort to keep tears at bay as your mind reminisced of the altercation. This man had that effect on you. You were scared shitless, to be crude and honest.

“Are you alright, Y/N?” Kizaru’s voice pulled you out of your trance as you stood motionless in his office. He then took your shaky hand in his and rubbed his thumb on the back of it. His hand was warm and his gentle touch made your heart flutter and your mind switch back to reality.

“I’m good, thank you, I…” you started speaking, slowly retrieving your hand despite your longing. “It can be fun sometimes, but…” you said, mindlessly pulling your hand close to your chest and rubbing it slightly where he had held it a few seconds prior. “No more of this, please…” you finished playfully.

“No more, I promise,” he assured you, raising his hands slightly. “I’d hate to see you lose your job because of me,” he added, his voice soft and quiet.

“And I’d hate to have to leave you,” you said with a soft sincere voice. There was something else in that voice, something deeper than the simple amity that was due between you and your superior. And you immediately corrected yourself, fearing you might be forgetting yourself, “Sir.”

You fled his gaze, noticing from the corner of your eyes his lips bend into a gentle smile. He said nothing more.

Hopefully this motivates me to finally write that second part !

Edit : here is part 2!

[syneilesis]

[fic] There is No Heaven

There is No Heaven

Ikemen Vampire | Vlad/Comte de Saint-Germain | T | 1k words | ao3 link

The mansion remembers your longing. Your memories become ghosts living in its walls.

A/N: Happy New Year! This is my last fic for 2023 yay! And it's a little different: it's from Comte's POV, but in 2nd-person pronoun. I've always wanted to try that. This was supposedly for the Halloween but I didn't make it in time. Fortunately, I've made it before 2024 starts! lmao

Unbeta'd. I just want to write more vampire ex-boyfriends, yaknow?

Early on her stay, Mitsuki asks, “Are there ghosts in the mansion?”

Sebastian nearly snickers as he pours their tea, but he's professional enough to curb the urge.

You watch the girl squirm and frown, fragile little thing, and take a sip of the freshly served tea. The garden is bright and beautiful in this time of day, the flowers colorful dots scattered in the verdant space. A little beyond that, the mansion windows glint and glare under the sunrays, and a silhouette glides through one of them, a dazzling glimpse of silver hair and billowing black coat. The figure pauses and glances, and from this distance you can still see the slice of rose-red gaze, almost amused in its crescent shape. You close your eyes and swallow the tea. It's tasteless and lukewarm in your throat. You hum.

“I wonder.”

+

People may try to forget and they may become successful, but the mansion does not.

It does not forget.

+

Sometimes, you still see afterimages of him in the halls, like a memory that's become a ghost to touch the edges of your longing, dead but never buried.

+

Perhaps it's your lingering regrets, but the mansion remembers its owner, the one from several human lifetimes ago, silkthin voice spilling from full, red lips, almost a caress, almost a plea.

Come with me, Abel.

The hallways had echoed the words, pulsed with every syllable, like heartbeat trying to escape its ribcage. His hand, bony and pale and sure, flowerstem fingers confidently outstretched in your direction. And in that moment you almost did take his hand, your body twitching towards him, pulling you in. But the glow of his rich-red eyes slowed you into hesitation.

And what will you do then, Vlad? And more importantly: What will you make me do?

Because all of this – everything – would lead to his dream, aspiringly pure but aspiringly frightening, and it had become a point of contention about the means to achieve it. You had thought that his dream, indeed, was an admirable thing, and at one point you would have also been glad to take a part of it and make it yours, too. Vlad was (is) beautiful when he's determined and dreaming, a radiant god descended from the heavens to spread his blessing amongst the mortals.

But that's the thing about gods, wasn't it? They had the power and they had the freedom. They could do anything they wanted. Dreamed of. Even to the pain of others.

+

The library is where he lingers the most, and where he had spent a lot of time aside from the gardens. This, a whole eternity ago. His hands – carved ivory, beautiful but deadly – trailed along the spines of the books in the shelf situated in the innermost corner of the room. It's where the oldest books reside, one of which waxes lyrical about flowers and their signifieds. It had been Vlad's favorite. Read it the most, his rose-gaze blossoming each time he turned a page.

The book is still here, untouched for centuries. Every spring you stand in front of the shelf at the innermost corner of the library, and the book of flowers is still here, coated in dust.

What kind of flower should I plant today? Vlad wonders next to you, the lilt in his voice tickling your ears.

“Maybe something bright, something hopeful.”

Something hopeful, huh. The words don't echo, but they latch onto the wooden shelves, absorbed by crust and old papers.

Then his voice gets closer, almost like a lover's whisper, the dip of his head next to your ear, parting like a secret:

Hopeful like how you promised me the answers to all my questions?

You whip your head to the side – the cold shock propelling you to tell him that he's wrong, that he misunderstood. That the promise still burns the marrow of your bones and leaves your blood inchoate with waiting.

But you whip your head to the side, and all you see is air, lonely and burdened with failure.

+

“I think there's a ghost in the mansion,” Mitsuki says, come summer.

The teacup freezes millimeters away from your expectant lips, and the girl flusters with wary embarrassment.

Regardless, you indulge her. “Is that so.”

“I'm serious! Last week, in the playroom, Arthur, Dazai-san, and Isaac were playing cards. I was there watching them. I cheered when Isaac finally won, and then somebody said congratulations – except nobody said that among the four of us!”

“And then what happened?”

“Dazai-san suggested it was a ghost, but Arthur and Isaac refused to believe it. Arthur wanted to investigate, but Dazai-san turned it into a ghost storytelling session to frighten poor Isaac.”

“That's unfortunate.”

There were never invisible eyes watching you whenever you lounge in the playroom. Vlad always prefers when you're in solitude – in the library, in the garden, in your bedroom – so your attention falls completely on him. The mansion sighs whenever Vlad smiles at you, and you almost ache to take the step forward.

“Comte … Is there really no ghost in the mansion?”

At the gazebo, Mitsuki's eyes are wide with childlike curiosity, and underneath the glistening impatience, there is fear. She must have grown up listening to stories of spirits and their lingering attachment. Some vengeful, some poignant. Some unable to let go. What are ghosts but imprints of someone who has unwillingly left?

Vlad was never unwilling when he walked away – it was always you who were.

“There isn't any ghost here, ma cherie,” you tell Mitsuki after sipping your tea. “There are only stubborn memories.”

+

Come with me, Abel, Vlad murmurs against the skin of your neck later that night in your bed, right above your jugular vein.

The mansion is always a little emptier during summer, as most of the residents prefer to go out and bask under the sun. And though it is emptier, it's during summer that the mansion is at its most alive.

Come with me, Abel, he repeats, in your ear this time, his tender voice caressed into a sorrowful plea.

The mansion purrs, ripples with its own longing.

I'm not a god, and I can't make you do anything.

All I wanted was for you to take my hand.

I'm still waiting for you to fulfill your promise.

“Vlad,” you whisper, neither plea nor curse.

On the bedside desk the clock ticks on, with no answers to give.

[shslguitarist]

I come for the lore

Oh boy, this is gonna be a long post, grab some popcorn and let me tell you the story of how your parents met. Somehow, it wasn't in a nuthouse but you'd think that huh?

Alright, let's get to it then!

Karma and Kanade didn't meet formally technically until the Utsuroshima Killing Game. But Karma was a fan of Melody Rhythm during his years at Hope's Peak before the Tragedy happened. The twins are a bit older than Karma, but not by much. TLDR; they're all essentially adults by the end anyways.

Karma was thrown into the Utsuroshima game because of Mikado wanting to revive Junko in some form. Consider it something like him wanting to revive Utsuro through Yuki. At this point, it was hard to not know who the Remnants of Despair are. And Karma hasn't exactly healed from the Jabberwock game. He hasn't even healed from losing Chiaki two times, it's an open wound that often leads to arguments between Kanade and Karma later on.

At first, Karma avoided contact with anyone in the game, when Yuri dies - that's when things really start to get his attention. He didn't care much for the victim or blackened, he was looking forward to the executions. Although Mikado erased his memories of the Jabberwock game, Karma was always twisted in liking death. Considering his whole upbringing was spent running for the most part. And observing Kanade in the trials made Karma want to get to know her even more. Fearing that he was going to get attached, he didn't say much to her at first but the more he started spending time with her and Hibiki, the closer he felt to them. It had been years since he's fallen in love with anyone, especially after Chiaki died. And she was the first person that Karma was in love with, so falling for Kanade was kind of scary to him.

Chapter 2 is when they really bonded, over Kokoro's death. Plus teaming up on Emma, you could say that Karma fell in love with her smarts. And the ability to be a smartass at the same time. But it's funny how...they start getting closer to being in a relationship within the game also by not even knowing that they've met before cause Karma went to one of their concerts back in the day by the time they arrive on the third island.

And that's when everything went wrong; Setsuka dying, Karma witnessing the twins kill her, being the fall guy for their plan. Before their execution, Karma wasn't able to tell Kanade that he loved her. Kanade didn't want to leave Karma in the dark about everything but she still went ahead and burned the note, internally apologizing to Karma about leaving him stuck with the imbeciles. Insult to injury that she sends him off with a kiss before she's dragged off to the execution. Shinji has to hold Karma back from jumping into the execution to save the twins, but after they die, he goes emotionless. Not fully but it starts declining after Shinji's death. Initially wanting to just end it all so he doesn't have to deal with the killing game anymore, he starts having hallucinations about Kanade.

He does survive the game and when he manages to get out of the pod, he does indeed wait by Kanade's pod. Realizing and remembering how she really looked like (i.e. her adult look, y'know, the jean jacket style.) and remembered that he once went to a concert of theirs with a sign asking if she'd marry him (she said yes). Karma's just waiting....waiting for Kanade to wake up. tragic when this isn't dr2 huh

I am open for follow up asks.

[evelhak]

I need to see what you can write for KagaKuro and the number 12 ♡

I had a talk about different points of view in writing with @lylakoi and I mentioned I only tend to use omniscient pov for satire or parody, because that's how I find it natural to create a sassy narrator voice. That made me want to challenge myself to writing something completely serious in that pov. I also tend to write all third person perspectives in past tense, so this time I'm going for present tense. I hope you'll enjoy reading this experiment! Thank you for the prompt. 💙

Mini(?) fic: Ripples Prompt: Things you said when you thought I was asleep Pairing: pansexual!Kagami/bigender!Kuroko Timeframe: Third year of high school Rating: Teen and up

---------Ripples---------

The stairs creak as Kagami finally makes his way upstairs towards Kuroko's little attic room. It has only been about twenty minutes, but that's how it feels to him—like forever. A small eternity he has spent with Kuroko's granny and the jungle of houseplants that have left the living room in a state not far from a mud bath. The granny believes in chaos. It is far too satisfying to let go of control while you're immersed in what's in front of you. You can always clean up later. Kagami likes Granny's thinking. She can turn the simple, boring task of repotting the houseplants into an adventure. It reminds Kagami of childhood, when dirt under your nails was a mark of a successful day. Things like this make him think that Granny seems both younger and older than most people.

Indeed, Operation Save The Jungle, as Kuroko's Granny likes to call it, is not why Kagami feels like too much time has passed, after Granny has sent him to check on Kuroko. He doesn't mind doing things with Granny, hasn't for a long time, not since he realised she wasn't out to get him for daring to date her precious grandson. (It was always the father Kagami should have worried about.) He hurries to Kuroko now, because he always does. Whenever Kuroko shows signs of overexertion, Kagami feels the ghost of last spring, the big slump, and he can't quite sit still.

He can't believe it used to be funny. How everyone, including him, could just tell Kuroko... "Don't die". It was a joke. Kagami knows the exact moment it changed, and he could never joke about that again.

Kuroko is not in danger. He is sleeping on the covers of his bed, curled around two other sleeping creatures—Nigou, and the old black cat Shiro who has valiantly carried Granny's sense of humour for 16 years. Kagami will see them in a moment, but for those few more creaky steps he has left before his hand reaches the door handle, his heart races a little. He has seen Kuroko in danger for twice too often. It will take longer than he understands, for those memories to turn into background noise.

It was in the middle of repotting a spider plant that Kuroko suddenly needed to lie down. He didn't say that his vision was blacking out, but Kagami can guess this much by now. It doesn't happen as often as it did before summer, but Kagami can't tell if it happens more or less than first year of high school. He wasn’t paying enough attention back then. One thing is definitely different, though. The causation from a source of exhaustion towards losing consciousness is not as straightforward to follow as it once was.

Kagami enters the room as quietly as he can do anything. Kuroko's easy, steady breathing calms his mind in a second. His jaw unclenches, his shoulders relax, but these changes are so small that Kagami himself cannot tell they are happening. His focus is on the unlikely sight on the bed. The eager dog and the grumpy cat are getting along. It makes Kagami grin a little, he thinks they would only do that for Kuroko's sake. When they can tell it isn’t the time to fight for his attention.

Kagami sits down on the bed. It creaks too, but like a whisper. A strand of hair on Kuroko's face seems to call him to wipe it away. Kagami doesn't intend to wake Kuroko, but he wonders if his face is paler, or feels colder to the touch than normal. He cannot decide. Kuroko looks peaceful, and a sigh escapes Kagami. His own worry brings the thought of Kuroko’s father back to his mind now. As much as he isn't appreciative of the fact that his place in the man’s good graces could be taken away on a whim, no matter how hard he has worked to earn it... there's also the fact that Kagami understands his worry. It isn't as misplaced as one might think at first. Excessive, maybe, but not untrue.

Kagami hasn’t seen everything that happens under the roof of this house. He doesn’t know about the morning Kuroko was brushing his teeth in the bathroom, and suddenly he wasn’t. His father heard the sound of glass shattering against the floor tiles. He broke the door open. Kuroko wasn’t hurt, but afterwards he was no longer allowed to lock the bathroom door and his toothbrush would always sit in a plastic cup since then. Kagami is still unaware of all the incidents that have piled up over the years, because Kuroko is always a little too true to his life style. You won’t see what is happening behind the scenes, unless you make conscious effort to find out.

And yet, the ultimate point of discovery always comes. It is now demonstrably true that Kuroko’s father was not wrong about the dangers of fainting. Kagami is the last person to argue.

And then, there was always the other thing.

Now, looking at the love of his young life, asleep, unguarded, Kagami thinks that he understands Kuroko’s energy better. It's not that there's nothing coming from him. It's that most of it goes past people. But that doesn't mean there's no mark left, somewhere in their mind. A vague sense of having missed something. Kagami is not articulate enough to put it into words, but he can sense it with more clarity these days, an energy that dissolves itself to accentuate its duality. An energy that hits the point of full overlap. The mistake is easy to make, but it is not a neutral energy, it is not "neither". It is "either", it is both, and that's what confuses people. It doesn't fit into the dual world view despite of encapsulating it. It isn’t about the shoulds and shouldn’ts people assign each other. It isn’t about your role, even if crafting that can be used to communicate what’s deeper than that. The truth resides where the words to describe it end. People can tell on instinct. And you can see it in the underlying patterns of how they treat each other.

It took Kagami a while to see, but Kuroko's father's actions were never simple either. After a while though, they do speak louder than words. It becomes apparent to the one who knows what to look for, that the man isn't just punishing his son for kissing a boy. He is also, no matter how much discrepancy acting on the underlying instinct causes in him, protecting his daughter from said boy. There is no way Kuroko's father understands this, Kagami thinks. Kagami would not have been able to see it for what it is on his own before he had the right context. But that is how Kuroko’s father acts, regardless.

That man is far from the only one expressing a view of Kuroko more inconsistent, more easily shifting, than people on average have of each other. He’s only unique in that he’s the father, and the one most conflicted because of it.

After Kagami was aware of it, he could see it everywhere, in the smallest and the broadest strokes. To Kuroko’s father, the ultimate burden of proof always rested upon Kagami's shoulders. It wasn’t even an undertone. He made it perfectly clear he would accept their relationship, but only as long as Kagami had proved himself good enough. Just like that, the father’s frame of reference shifted from “I cannot let this half foreigner corrupt my son” to “I suppose I can accept this relationship as long as this boy’s affection appears to me as identical to a man’s love for a woman”. Because with someone like Kuroko, the shift in projection happens with an amount of incongruence that is right below the threshold. It’s just mild enough to ignore.

The question is… where do projection and the truth, the push and the pull, meet?

Kagami knows that identity doesn't always coincide with people's perceptions of you. But he is also beginning to see that it more often coincides with people's subconscious, underlying perception than the overt, literal one. He can't explain it, but he feels how it is in the ways people approach and respond to each other when they don’t think about it, in the ways those interactions make you feel, where the direction of pressure, stress, ease and flow are. He understands, on some, subconscious level, that it’s one thing to be viewed as something you “shouldn’t” be when it misses the mark, and another thing when something inside of you resonates with that perception reflected back to you in the eyes of others.

None of this was ever an issue to Kagami. Even the fact that the most reluctant person to accept that the truth resides somewhere in the contradictory ways people perceive him, is Kuroko himself, doesn't bother Kagami to any mentionable extent anymore. No, it's always the same crux in the end. It's because malicious people can pick and choose what they see. How it follows, that residing anywhere in the ambiguous territory makes it harder than average to anticipate what kind of violence you'll be the target for. It’s not necessarily more or less. It’s just less of one kind.

Kagami is not worried because he thinks that Kuroko inherently needs more protection than the average person. He’s worried because he can sense what he can’t explain. In his gut, he knows that a desire to deny the relationships between certain aspects of yourself and the world makes you blind to where exactly the crossroads with the biggest risks for you, are. And Kagami has seen Kuroko do that on multiple areas of his life. It’s not that it’s just Kuroko’s own fault. It’s not that he should know better. How could he know better?

In that sense, Kagami understands Kuroko's father, even if he doesn't agree with the man’s methods of protection. Kagami thinks there’s another kind of misdirection Kuroko can learn. The kind that allows him to control or at least anticipate how people will see him. Maybe then, Kuroko could feel more secure in all of this. Less reserved. Wouldn't have to so carefully put away anything he might wish to express about himself. Not for fear of attracting the wrong kind of attention.

What no one in this house, not even Granny for all her wisdom, understands in this particular instance, is how much comes down to a word. A word Kagami has, a word Kuroko has grudgingly accepted as the only explanation for the way he feels, a word Granny has accepted all too eagerly in Kuroko’s opinion, a word Kuroko’s father doesn’t have. Because a word; all the knowledge and understanding it opens, or the lack of it, translates into action. Kuroko’s father, quite literally, doesn’t know what he’s doing... or does he? Is it possible that he, in turn, has a word Kagami does not have?

Kagami never really felt like he needed words before. He was fine with just instinct. Kuroko confessed as much at one point too. Being with Kagami was like a wordless bubble where he could be fully who he was, no questions asked, because he felt that Kagami saw him and got him right from the beginning. But the rest of the world couldn’t measure up, and you have to live outside of the bubble too.

Kagami leans closer on the bed, caresses Kuroko's nose lightly with his, barely brushes against the sleepy lips with his own. They have agreed a long time ago that it's okay to kiss, even if the other is asleep. But Kagami is too in his head to notice the slight change to Kuroko's breathing, when he lets uncharacteristically quiet words into the air.

– Hey, I know you still... hide so many things. Even from me. Even from you.

Kagami thinks Kuroko is still asleep. He scratches his head.

– It's not like I'm holding my breath, or anything. You don't have to tell me. Even if you never want to share your unfinished thoughts... Even if they’ll just remain unfinished, I don't care. Not really. It's not like I haven't already got everything that matters, you know... with you.

Kagami lets out a dry sigh and looks away.

– I have no clue what the future holds for you. It's not like I spend much time thinking beyond tomorrow anyway... It's just... a feeling, I guess. That I sometimes have. When I look at you. Don’t know what makes me think it. But it's like... there's something left. Something... that has been in your words for so long. Not just words. Everything. Maybe since the beginning. Something you know but you don't know. If your mind doesn't know it, maybe your body knows it or something. I'm not smart enough to put it together for you. I would, if I could, but...

Had Kagami been aware that Kuroko was listening, he would have stopped talking already. For a while Kuroko was so torn over the possibility of any conflict of identity. Like it was literally the last thing he needed in his life. The worst nightmare. Kagami feels ashamed about not understanding how it could be that big of a deal. He barely had any prejudice about who he was attracted to, at any point in his life. He could on some level and contexts be described as a lot more gender-blind than average, although it’s too conceptual for him to put like that himself. That is the reason he didn’t care, regardless. Why it was difficult for him to understand how something that always fit their relationship perfectly as long as it was wordless, unspoken, never pointed at, suddenly made Kuroko insecure, when it had a name. Not just with the rest of the world, but around Kagami too.

Things with names begin to take a clearer shape. To become more visible. Words have the power to affect how we see and what we see.

Kagami is aware of his mistake now. Even after Kuroko admitted to the core of his complicated feelings, the sense of caution didn't leave Kagami. He said too much once.

Kagami is no longer gripped by his own insecurities it sparked, and his circumstances over the summer forced him to understand none of it was caused by anything in Kuroko. After the summer, Kagami no longer questions how letting something to the surface—or being ambushed by it from the depths, could cause a sudden aversion to that which was just going along with the flow before in the undercurrent, away from your immediate consciousness. He understands all too well. About things that can alter your sense of reality and self. About things you cannot control.

– I guess I just wish you knew that I don't care, but that’s like, in a good way, and I'll be there, because I obviously do care, you know. I’ll be there whatever you'll do. And I can't say this to you, because then you'll think that I think you'll do something specific which I’m just not saying out loud. But it's not like that. It's so much vaguer than that, it's... more like there's still a piece of the puzzle missing. The piece that will... tie everything together in some new way. Everything you don’t know what to do with.

Kagami rolls his eyes and leans the bridge of his nose on his knuckles.

– I sound mental...

He turns away from Kuroko and lies down on his back next to the sleepy trio. In truth, Kuroko is now aware of Kagami’s every word and every movement, and something in him illuminates from the inside for the thousandth time, clinging to all of that, not like a lifeline, not like a string of light, but like a microscopic pattern that shouldn’t matter but changes everything anyway.

And then, Kagami says one more thing.

– You’re gonna be fine, you know. Because where the world puts an “or” you’ll always find a way to have an “and”.

At the last word, Kuroko’s heart races, and his eyes sting, but none of it is visible from the outside, just like everything else that has been hidden inside him, everything that still never was, and never will be hidden as well as he would like, everything he believes should stay hidden. Kuroko will believe that for some time still. The clock is ticking past midnight. The ocean waves are crashing too hard. The lake seems perfectly still, but sometimes, especially when the boy lying on his back next to Kuroko is close, there are ripples.

-------------------------

Some appropriate music I listened to:

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

I mean to be fair the writers in the latter half of the show were fully aware of all this fanon madness and threw them some bones. Katara and Zuko were trolled 2 times at being together, Toph hinted at katara having a secret thing with haru (whatever that means) amd she herself seemee very needy and jealous being the only one without a zuko field trip,suki and sokka did it.

When people watch the show without any social media or fanon influence after netflix aired atla all the canon pairings make total sense but when i think bryke indeed did some fanservice (the way zuko jumped in slowmo into the lightning) so the writers definitely knew what they were doing.

I really liked kataang in the first 2.5 seasons but the fact that tsr and eip are both 2 episodes in a row and we never see katara apologizing to either sokka or aang even had me like wtf (tsr is a good episode but still.) Then aang disappears on the lion turtle and katara is pretty chill compared to all the times before. It would be prob better to have a book 4 where they grew apart for a few years and saw how important they were to each other to give them the proper development but it is what it is.

While I'm all for a book 4, splitting the Gaang up would be a HUGE mistake. "This could ruin the whole show" kind of mistake. They all are at their best and grow the most when they are TOGETHER. Hell, that's the whole point of the life-changing field trips with Zuko. Let's not "fix" what isn't broken.

I wouldn't really say that Katara was "chill" after Aang disappeared. They were on the edge of the biggest battle of their lives so they had a LOT to focus on, and even Sokka just immediately thinks "He's probably in the spirit world doing Avatar stuff that will help save the day." Mysterious bullshit making Aang be away for a little while, be it physically or just spiritually/mentally, is a Tuesday for them at this point. They spent an entire episode waiting for Roku to be done telling his backstory with Sozin to him. Katara not losing her mind with concern because of something that happens regularly is not the same them growing apart.

And while an apology to Katara for the Ember Island thing or her apologizing to Aang and SPECIALLY Sokka after how she acted on Southern Raiders would be great, Avatar has a tendency of just skipping apologies that are kind of taken as a given - see Aang not apologizing to Toph after how he acted when Appa was kidnaped, or her and Katara not apologizing to each other after the events of The Chase. They tend to focus on apologies for bad behavior that lasted a whole arc (see Zuko apologizing to the Gaang and to Iroh).

And about the writers throwing shippers a bone with stuff like Katara and Zuko being mistaken for a couple - yeah, I can see how fan would like that. I also remember the characters getting visibly uncomfortable with it and that the show basically mocked the very concept of the ship through the Ember Island Players.

More importantly: fanservice is not foreshadowing, set up and/or development. For exemple: I LOVE Tokka as a ship, and I find Toph's crush on Sokka really cute. But it was always VERY CLEAR that it was one-sided and that the writers decided to make him end up with Suki. The fanservice made me happy, but it was not meant to be taken seriously, so I didn't.

Meanwhile Zutarians use five minutes of bait to argue that there was a whole conspiracy in which their OTP was meant to be endgame but evil Bryke ruined it at the last second. They've argued that Ember Island!Katara saying she likes Zuko and thinks of Aang as her little brother was a reflection of the REAL Katara's feelings, even though she explicitly said it was not the case and the show itself made it obvious that it is simply an INNACCURATE fanon take on the show.

No one would have an issue with Zutara shippers enjoying the little treats the writers gave them if they weren't so hellbent on claiming that those little moments somehow invalidate three seasons of Kataang, and one season (plus a few book 2 episodes) of Maiko. Not to mention the constant "If you dislike the ship/say it's not canon, then you're sexist/racist and I get to harass you."

You can't be "fair" to people that are asking to be allowed to be unfair to everyone else. They need to grow the fuck up first and realize that, if they want to be left alone, they shouldn't go around picking up petty fights with people then complaining when they get punched.

[f0point5]

I didn't realize Tsunoda was such a divisive person for f1 fans 😭😭

I think he's a bit underrated in the sense that he has solid driving skills and gets overlooked by his teammates that are always brought in to give that leadership role rb doesn't believe he has, but he's overrated because his fanbase is extremely aggressive over him and they sometimes treat him as "aww he's so cute" yk?

but i don't see him driving for rb any time soon, i do think he still needs to grow a bit more and channel his attitude into his driving more (i do think people overreact on his attitude tho, just look at the other 19 drivers they're all adrenaline fueled freaks 💀)

His attitude reminds me a bit of young seb, they were both a bit reckless and careless with their words and you could see the bit of arrogance shining through but i think he's improved a lot

I am, ngl, a bit of a Yuki “hater”. Not for any other reason than I want Toro Rosso to be a proper junior team and he’s taking up one of the few seats that has traditionally been given to rookies. I think any time you have someone who’s there in perpetuity, same as Lance Stroll, the scrutiny becomes more intense. It’s unfair but it’s also natural. More people complain that Yuki doesn’t deserve his seat than complain about Zhou, for example, when imo they’re kind of on the same level driver wise - solid on a good day, not setting the timing sheets alight.

I don’t think he’s a possibility for RB. They put in the work with him for a while, by moving him to Faenza and getting him a mental coach, but I think they’ve made their mind up by now that he’s not what they’re looking for and I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve “quiet quit” on developing him. Regardless, I don’t think he has the skills to get to RB. He could do well hanging out in the lower midfield but there’s enough drivers already doing that, so I don’t see what he would uniquely bring to a team. For that reason I don’t really think he’s underrated.

I think people overreact to all the drivers’ “tempers” in the car. So they swear, big deal. Saying “stop fucking talking to me” is not the same as saying “you are a piece of shit”, the radios are not really directed at the engineers personally, and sometimes that kind of inflection is necessary to get the gravity of the stress across. Drive at 300kph and have someone talking to you or a feeling of instability and see how politely you manage to talk to someone. Yuki may swear a bit more than average but that’s just his personality on adrenaline, Lando’s personality on adrenaline is a whiny bitch. All drivers say they listen back to their radios and cringe. Judging people when you are hearing them at their most vulnerable is…a bit of a take, imo.

I never really had a poor opinion of Yuki until him doing that nonsense in Bahrain. And it was indeed nonsense. For you to careen your €15m piece of equipment, that 100s of people spent thousands of hours building for you, into your teammates €15m piece of equipment that 100s of people spent thousands of hours building for him, because you’re annoyed about a decision made by someone who’s not in the car, for no real gain or loss (no points available), is really poor behaviour. Yes, adrenaline, but if your adrenaline makes you dangerous then you’re in the wrong profession, buddy.

I never found Yuki arrogant at all, I think he’s always come across really matter of fact, quite honest, I love always thought he’s conducted himself really well in interviews etc., but that Bahrain stunt was embarrassing for him. And as for people saying he’s in contention for the RB seat…let him try doing that to Max in an RB20, he would be gone quicker than Gasly.

I agree with you though, I really didn’t think he was divisive until I saw the real crazy come out after the Bahrain incident. I saw a bit of it when deVries was around but Nyck was rude af about Yuki so I understood it. But I didn’t know people had strong opinions on him either way until recently.

[arcadian-litterateur]

adam warlock: man? child? bug?

masterlist

summary: an analysis of the debate on adam warlock’s age and whether it’s appropriate to write smut about him.

word count: 1.4k

warnings: this is a rant that no one asked for nor needed to hear so read at your own risk

a/n: the second part of my will poulter content for today, since our boy is 31 today!!!!!!!!!!

𝗜 𝗦𝗔𝗪 a post the other day that said something along the lines of, “writing fanfiction about Adam Warlock may be tempting, but you shouldn’t, because he’s a child trapped in a man’s body. The body is nice; the mind is a child.” And while I understood the point that this person was trying to make and totally respect their decision to not write smut for Adam Warlock, it made me think more about this whole issue as a whole: the idea of Adam’s age and how, as fans, we should think of him.

See, there are two sides to this argument, from what I’ve seen. There’s the “he’s an adult physically but a child mentally” camp, and then there’s the “he’s a childish adult who’s inexperienced” camp. And I see the arguments for both, and they both have a point—which is why I’m not so sure it’s that simple. I don’t think there is a black and white answer when it comes to Adam’s age. There are several different ways we can interpret Adam’s character in terms of age, and I think that it should be up to each writer to decide how they personally interpret the character. I also think that no one should be shaming someone else for the interpretation they are set on, because it’s such a gray area.

This is why I wanted to explore this whole debate more. So I spent a lot of time analyzing it, and now I’m going to explain my stance on Adam Warlock’s age and how that affects how I will write about him. I am not saying this is the “correct” stance; like I said before, it’s simply my personal interpretation. The two paragraphs above are my plea for kindness in our fandom. The paragraphs below are my personal conclusions that you do not have to agree with at all.

First of all, if you ask me if Adam Warlock is a man or a child, I would tell you that it’s not that simple. In my mind, his age cannot be labeled by a simple black and white term because his situation is so complex. The best term, for now, would most likely be “man-child” because he has characteristics of both. The lore tells us that Adam Warlock is one of the Sovereign, a race created by the High Evolutionary to be perfect. Adam Warlock was supposed to be the ultimate “model” of this race; the perfect man, but the High Evolutionary took him out of his cocoon too early, so he was unable to finish growing. 

This idea that Adam was taken out of his cocoon too early and therefore is a child comes from this lore. I can understand where this assumption that early out of the cocoon=child comes from, but I don’t personally believe it and don’t think it’s true for several reasons. One, when we first see Adam, he is in the body of a fully grown man, which, if he is a child, either means that he was only taken out of his cocoon a tiny bit too early, or that he was fully grown in the cocoon but simply hadn’t hatched yet. Neither of these options make much sense, especially when we see that the High Evolutionary loves efficiency. What seems more likely to me is that Adam was indeed full grown but had not undergone all of his intellectual and common sense development yet—but only the development needed to make him smarter and trickier than humans. He’d already developed enough to act as a normal Sovereign citizen, but he was supposed to develop even better intelligence and did not get the chance. If we think back to the early appearances of the Sovereign, they all act very similar to Adam Warlock. They have enough smarts to function, but hold childish habits that include arrogance, pettiness, and the inability to see how their actions affect other people. So by this theory, it seems that Adam is a fully grown man with similar deficiencies to the rest of his people who hasn’t had much life experience yet. 

To add on to this point, let’s talk about the actual cocoon part. When we see insects or other creature form cocoons in nature, the cocoon does not serve the function of birthing the creature or holding it when it is a child. A caterpillar goes into a cocoon once it is full grown to transform into a butterfly—to emerge in its true, glorious form. Adam may have done more developing than just young adulthood in his cocoon, but the end result was still the same—he went in so that he could emerge as an adult in his true form. Only instead, he was taken out before he could fully transform into a butterfly—or in this case, super smart. It’s as if a full grown caterpillar went into a cocoon and then came out a few days later with a teeny-tiny, useless pair of wings, but still very much a fully grown caterpillar (not a butterfly). He’s fully grown, he just wasn’t given the opportunity to reach maximum potential. By this theory, it seems that Adam is a fully grown man who hasn’t been able to reach his full potential yet.

So if we’ve established that Adam being taken out of his cocoon early does not necessarily equal Adam being a child, then let’s move on to how he acts, because that’s another huge point of contention. I obviously already touched on my belief that he acts just like the rest of the Sovereign, so I’ll skip that. I understand the opinion that Adam acts like a child, but like I’ve stated above, I simply think he acts childish—which is different, yes. Sure, he thinks Rocket is a puppy—I might, too, if I can’t really see what the animal is as it’s crawling all over me and I have an overbearing mother who doesn’t let me leave the house. Sure, he doesn’t understand how his actions hurt other people—how is he supposed to know? He hasn’t been given the opportunity to learn, and he’s controlled by a sadist and an overbearing mother. Sure, he calls his mom “Mummy” and cries into her arms—I’m an adult woman, but I still call my mom “Mama” and cry into her arms. Just because he’s a guy doesn’t mean he can’t love his mom. All of these habits he has may be childish, but they don’t automatically make someone a child, just like the cocoon argument doesn’t automatically make me a child. 

Side note, but it almost seems as if he has a lot of similar traits and habits as female characters in Marvel as well, but he’s the only being called a child because he’s a soft male character who shows emotions and isn’t strong all the time. It’s like the internet hating on Peeta Mellark for being “weak” all over again, as if Peeta isn’t everything some of us want. Anyways. 

Moving on to the next piece of this, I have to start with a question: if Adam Warlock is a child’s mind inside a grown man’s body…when will he have a grown man’s mind? Will he ever? Will his “child’s mind” continue to grow until it “catches up” to his body? If not, is he stuck as “a child’s mind” forever? Who gets to decide when he will have a grown man’s mind? Is it fair to try and put limits on this fictional character’s ability to experience the world because you’ve decided that having childish habits makes you a child?

See, at the end of the day, this is what frustrates me the most with those who are trying to gatekeep Adam Warlock as a child. Because they call him a child trapped in a man’s body and then stop there. They don’t—or can’t—address the implications or complications of their claim. They don’t dig deeper, instead taking the issue at surface level, and then don’t address the fact that their argument doesn’t make sense unless they can answer the above questions. And it’s okay if they want to leave it at a simple level like that, but if they are going to shame people for writing for Adam Warlock and then claim that Adam is a child, then the burden of proof rests on them to prove it without using the same old claims and half-assed evidence. 

Thank you for listening to my TED Talk. Whatever you decide to write or not write for Adam Warlock, may you find the motivation and words needed to make it awesome. I believe in you! 

[theflyingfeeling]

hi hi hellooo! Aleksi's remix of Let Me Down Slowly came up on my youtube recs and it instantly reminded me of your amazing fic and I knoooooooooow I said it a million times but thank you so much for writing it and sharing it, it's so fucking good!!!!!!! 💖💘💖💕💖💖💘

now imagine, pining-idiots-that-haven't-realized-they-are-in-love Allu and Olli are probably enjoying their well deserved breaks from all the stuff they did in 2023 (and most likely with their partners by their side), but I like to imagine that they still make some time for at least one video call once a week, or that they exchange dumb texts daily because they miss each other so much 🥺💕

maybe Olli grabs his guitar one night and comes up with some beautiful riff that he sends to Allu, but this time Aleksi decides that they have to finish it together side by side (clearly an excuse to see Olli again because oooops, he realized he has Feelings™ for his friend and bandmate) and well, Olli had to travel to Helsinki anyway (to make sure the new posters were shipped correctly, or to sign a legal document or some made up bullshit), soooo why not stay at his just-a-friend-i-swear's place for a few days?

they would have the Moment Of Realization late at night, around 2AM when Allu is finally done with the remix and Olli is already asleep on the couch (is he really asleep, though? or just enjoying the moment with his eyes closed?). Allu would not resist the temptation of brushing a curl off Olli's beautiful face, and maybe caressing one of his cheeks while he can, not forseeing that Olli would be very much awake, so now they're both holding their breaths and staring at each other with so much love 💖💕💘

maybe they finally dare to get closer and share a shy little kiss after all those years of pining, or maybe they feel like they can't do it, not while they still have a significant other, and leave the studio confused and unsure of what to do next 🥰

anyways, it's already late over here and I used my last braincell to daydream about this 😅 have a lovely lovely day 💖💕💘💖💕💘

OH MY GOD???!!?!?!??!?! 😭😭😭😭😭

this made my stomach do the thing because akdjshfksjfdkf I've honestly spent the entire Christmas break thinking about the two of them constantly checking their phones and not really understanding why they feel so disappointed when there's no new text from the other or why they feel a pang of jealousy when the other posts a holiday greeting in the group chat (=a selfie with their gf with a cheesy Christmassy/NYE edit and a text "Happy Holidays from us!")

amd aaaahhhh imagine soft Olli playing softly on his soft guitar AND THINKING OF ALLU THE WHOLE TIME DJDHFGFFJFF I meaaaaan may I remind y'all that yet again this is not just something the delulu made up but instead it's something that actually for real happened with the Let Me Down remix 😭 obviously we don't know if Olli had the riff ready and Allu just happened to need one and it came up in a conversation, or if Allu asked him to make him one, or if Olli just sent the riff to Allu who was so inspired (and in love (with the riff! or at least that's what he convinced himself then)) that he made an entire remix based off it 🥺 my point here is that it's TOO EASY to imagine them doing exactly what you just derscribed 🤧💕

and yeah, I have also been imagining their first kiss and how terrifying it would be for the both of them 😭 I mean, I want to assume that the "deep talks" they've had over a glass of wine or a bottle of Mountain Dew (again, something we know for certain they done, not just something the delulu has decided is canon!!) they have also discussed sex and/or sexuality and came out as bi to each other, so it's not the fact they're both dudes and about to kiss each other that's messing with their heads rather than the fact they're both in relationships skgjdjfksjfsjfjdjf fuck why am I so invested in this 😩

bonus points indeed if they only ALMOST kiss before they snap out of it and aaaaaaaaaa poor confused boys!! because this whole time they've been like "I don't actually like him that way, and even if I did nothing could ever happen because we're friends and co-workers and he's taken" but then they realise they were having an undeniable Moment(tm) and the other was actually about to kiss them back too so they're like ???????????????? oh god 😭

thanks for this, I feel so validated once again 🙈

[ladycatofwinterfell]

🫶🏼

I gave up on this one because I had no clear direction and felt like I was losing track of character motivation. I had a vision and didn’t nail it. But it’s about Ned and Cat and they’re having a further conversation about Robert’s offer in agot, set after Catelyn II

He had chosen to retire to his own chamber rather than join Catelyn in hers. The days had become so loud ever since the royal family came to Winterfell, it made Ned desire nothing but solitude and silence. He needed to hear his own thoughts.

What had to be done had become quite obvious the previous night. Lysa’s letter had entirely changed the meaning of Robert’s offer. That did not make Ned like it any more, the resistance was the same. King’s Landing was no place for him, he had known that for many years. His youth had been spent in the south, though he belonged in Winterfell.

Ned sunk down on his bed, rested his head in his hands. It was as if his body also protested. Every little part of him wanted to refuse even as he couldn’t.

There came a knock on the door. It had opened before he had time to say a word and there stood Catelyn.

“May I join you, my lord?” she asked.

There was no particular softness in her voice. No particular anything, in truth.

“If you wish” he told her.

She closed the door behind her and came further into the room.

“Have you told Robert that we accept the betrothal between Sansa and Prince Joffrey?” she asked.

Ned sighed when he heard her say it. He knew perfectly well what he had to do and he would do it. On the right occasion.

“Not yet.”

“After what we learned last night it is of great importance.”

He looked at Catelyn. At his wife. At the woman he had come to know so intimately. He met her blue eyes, saw the accusation in them even as her face remained neutral and controlled.

“You thought it to be of great importance before last night” he said.

At times he wondered how they had got along so well for so long because every now and then he found himself unable to understand her. She had strict beliefs and was stubborn as sin when it came to some of them. Stubborn to the point of lacking reason. And Ned was quite certain of that she thought the same of him.

Catelyn smiled, though there was nothing happy about it.

“Our daughter will be a queen. You will be the second most powerful man in all of the Seven Kingdoms.”

“A great honour” Ned said and he heard his own bitterness.

“Indeed” Catelyn responded, meeting him with the same bitterness.

She came to sit next to him on the bed, though kept a respectable distance between them.

“House Stark ruled the North in its own right for thousands of years because you made yourselves kings. And when Aegon the Conqueror descended upon the Seven Kingdoms you were allowed to keep the North, although not as kings but as wardens. No king or queen has ever carried the name Tully. Aegon didn’t allow us to keep the Riverlands because they were never ours, he gave them to us.”

He knew the history of his own house perfectly well and he was not a stranger to the history of the great houses of the south either.

“What do you want to say with this?” he asked her because that was what he wanted to know.

“A king made us what we are, a king can as easily take it away again. I want strong ties to the throne.”

It had not been fifteen years since the end of their rebellion. Not fifteen years since House Tully fought alongside Robert and swore their loyalty to him.

“You helped Robert win the throne” he reminded her.

Catelyn gave him a cool look, as if she believed him to be stupid.

“Robert will not live forever and his court is infested with Lannisters.”

“What strife does your house have with the Lannisters?”

“None as of now. Though I cannot know what the future holds and the Riverlands have always been the country most torn by war because it’s so hard to defend. Being the queen’s mother is a very great honour, even as you seem set on denying that. It also means that my family will be safer than in has been.”