#of course three trouble-making people ends up being on the same post
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❋ You said what now? ❋
↳ He accidentally found out your feelings
feat: Ruggie ⭑ Chenya ⭑ Lilia ⭑ Epel
genre: fluff (uhh for the most part), humour,
note: no pronouns used with the reader, no explicit spoilers for book 7 in Lilia’s section, reader is referred as human in Lilia’s section, reader is implied to be a first year in Epel’s section, bad cat-related wording in Chenya’s section
Fun fact: while not obvious in the English translation, if you listen to Chenya’s Japanese voice lines, he likes to say “nya” at the end of his sentences.
Will I keep that fact in mind anytime Chenya pops up? Absolutely.
Also, I just started my college classes again last week (which is why I didn’t post last week). All of my classes are dense with text and quizzes so…I need to study real hard which will most likely eat up my time for writing. Good ol’ inconsistent me~
Although, I’m taking History and we focus a bit on the age of nobility and old kingdoms…so maybe some inspiration for my villain/ess!au series (or maybe not cuz history is weirder than one thinks…)
How it happened
Perhaps a little sneaky, Ruggie is someone reliable, resourceful, and fun to be around. You started to fall for him and even that sneaky side of his became endearing to you.
But bigger, financial priorities occupy the hyena beastman’s mind more than anything else. Unless he can make a madol from it or get a freebie, his interest in anything else is seemingly non-existent. It was rather easy to keep your feelings to yourself when the topic of love rarely, if ever, comes up.
So it came to a surprise to you when the shaggy-haired sophomore mentioned his coworkers at a part-time job he picked up in town.
He started ranting about how a duo at his workplace started an unlikely relationship a few days ago. According to him, the two were from two different worlds and didn’t appear to be either of their types.
“Doesn’t make any sense if you ask me” he mumbled, scratching his fluffy head by the sudden revelation at his job.
You nodded and hummed as he recounted his workday with you, but in all honesty, you didn’t share his confusion over the so-called sudden pairing. By the way Ruggie described the couple, it does sound like their personalities wouldn’t mesh well and would theoretically clash too much for anything to bloom between them.
But attraction follows no simple formula. No one can stop themselves from falling for someone. You yourself were an example.
“Love is never predictable, Ruggie.” you commented without thinking, perhaps too distracted by the cute love story of Ruggie’s coworkers or it could be that you’re drowning in the warm feelings from being so close to your crush that your mouth is running too comfortably on its own. “I mean, I never thought you were my type but I still ended up-“
You shut your mouth before you could finish but looking at the wide-eyed expression on Ruggie’s face, the effort was moot.
“You still ended up?”
…Shoot.
What happens now?
Colour him shocked. Ruggie never entertained the idea that you would like him, out of all people.
He could’ve pretended not to figure it out, or convince himself that it was a misunderstanding. But he knew when he saw your flustered embarrassment and your cute stuttering trying to come up with an excuse, there was no misunderstanding. You like him.
Ruggie has a good amount of ego and he wouldn’t downplay his boyish good looks (odds are it got him out of a few close calls), but in a school of celebrities, royalty, and guys with money coming out the wazoo? He knows when he’s outmatched.
To be honest, his brain froze for a moment at your slip up. He clutched his heart which stuttered out of beat, his ears and tail stood in attention like a meerkat. Jack was worried watching his upperclassman in such a daze while folding laundry, heck it even got Leona raising a brow over the uncharacteristic clocked out look on his shorter dormmate.
But, Ruggie is a workaholic hyena. Always planning his way to work up the ladder to earn some good madol. Even if he likes the idea of making a family of his own, romance wasn’t in his peripheral vision at the moment. Not while he’s working multiple jobs at once. He would honestly feel a little bad because he knows he’ll end up ignoring any poor soul stuck with him.
As bad as it is, he might at first think to pretend he heard nothing about your feelings. He couldn’t bring himself to make you go through that, to be in a relationship where work takes precedence over you.
But then he thought it wouldn’t be so bad…snuggling up to you during one of his rare free time. Maybe you’re the type to surprise him with lunch and he could rest on your lap while you brush his hair. Would you maybe rub his sore muscles after an arduous club training session? Having boyfriend privileges means no one can complain when he slides up to your side, keeping your attention to himself without having to share…
Screw it, he’ll figure something out. He’s a greedy hyena through and through
Shyeheehee! Better be ready for what you’re asking for. Once I’ve set my eyes on something, I’m not lettin’ it get away!
How it happened
This man is a literal magic trick, appearing and disappearing to revel in the shock of his unsuspecting audience. As elusive as he is, the times he does show up brings a shock of joy and excitement to you.
It seems that the purple-haired student has made it a habit to join the Heartslabyul’s unbirthday parties from time to time, enjoying the occasional chaos and keeping you company to your conflicted delight.
You didn’t know why but Chenya made it his mission to fluster you every chance he gets, with cheeky comments and sly touches as he leads you away from incoming mishaps such as a stray splash of paint or a flying slice of cake. You don’t know why but the cat-like menace has taken a shine to teasing you out of the blue. Sometimes he would suddenly whisper nonsensical riddles into your ear, or tap your shoulder to then poke your cheek as you turn. Small silly pranks that should annoy you but your body becomes filled with butterflies when he smiles that charming grin at you.
How maddening, you thought as you fell for another sneaky surprise from the impish beastman. Once again, Chenya appeared right behind you, smiling just over your shoulder which gave you and your friends a fright (for different reasons) to which he took pleasure in, judging from the mischievous grin on his lips.
Your shouting caught the attention of the other Heartslabyul students and recognizing the white jacket and castle emblem, their eyes boiled with competitive rage. An RSA student? On Night Raven territory?!
“Ah, looks like fun time is over. I’ll just show meowself out~” and like a mirage, Chenya’s figure disappeared as the NRC students failed to catch even a strand of his fur. Not even when he took a second longer to fade out just so he could teasingly tickle the tip of your nose with his fluffy striped tail.
The students kept on making a fuss, eager to teach the mischief maker a lesson for trespassing on rival territory. You sighed at the wasteful effort, assuming that Chenya would be smart enough to have left long ago.
“Why must my crush be such a frustrating person?” Angry hollers and Riddle’s commanding cease-and-desist orders overwhelmed your tired voice, and your soft words ended up softly carried off into the wind.
But your words caught the interest of a curious ear before it disappeared.
What happens now?
Curiouser and curiouser. He was not expecting such a confession. Though to be fair, he supposed you didn’t mean for anyone to hear it.
Chenya found joy being in your company. The shock in your bright eyes followed by your cute laugh sends a warm, giddy feeling in his heart that he just could not stop. He had a feeling he knew what these feelings could be but he was content with what he could get in the rare moments he can see you.
But now, when he realized what your cute reactions meant? That sends whole new exciting feelings within him. It’s fuzzy and warm as usual, but now also shocking and thrilling. The sneaky beastman is grinning for more than one reason now.
He won’t immediately confess back. Considering this wonderful predicament where you don’t know he knows of your affections, his playful nature compels him to milk the fun of this situation for all its worth.
If you thought his cheeky antics were bad enough, you haven’t seen his flirty side till now. Playful taps on the shoulders become sneaky grabs by the waist, and just when you think he’s gone, his signature grin would grace your vision as he fades into view, a little too close to your own face. Sometimes when he feels emboldened, Chenya would sweep you off your feet for a spontaneous walk along the sweet breeze.
When you’re finally at your wit’s end, when all his teasing and heart-fluttering gestures fills you to the point of combusting in flustered frustration, that’s when he’ll finally tell you his reciprocated feelings, perhaps while stealing a quick kiss when you least suspect it. All to see that terribly adorable look on your pretty face.
Every adventure requires a first step. I’m excited to see where we’ll go together from meow on~
How it happened
See, you thought he already knew. You swore he did. Why else would he tease you so much with his sweet compliments and flirty jokes? The mysterious senior spoke to you as though you were a naive child crushing on their older peer, which you supposed wasn’t entirely wrong.
The way he treated you with so much care and love that you wondered if he already suspected of your feelings and was being considerate to you. He listens to your rambles as though he has all the time in the world for you, compliments you on your achievements as though he’s genuinely proud of your hard work, and he jokes with you with that boyish charm of his. But the scarlet-eyed fae never pursued further with advances with you, which made you think that perhaps this was just who Lilia was, a strange but friendly man, unwilling to hurt your feelings. Were you grasping at straws and misconstruing his intentions?
With a heavy heart, you tried your best to give up your hopes but maintained a cordial bond with Lilia, not wanting to avoid the jovial fae so suddenly (well, without having to explain why anyways)
But one day, when you were walking with the smiling senior, he started talking about a souvenir shirt that Kalim had given him during their club meeting. It was a shirt patterned erratically with various colours and pictures of tiny bats littered about. It was an eccentric visual of fabric but it strangely fits the equally eccentric man.
“What are your thoughts? Would I not look absolutely adorable in this?” Lilia asked, holding the shirt in front in his uniform with a boyish smile, his fangs peeking out slightly. But you rolled your eyes as you sighed exasperated by this man’s antics.
“Don’t you think that’s unfair for you to ask me?” You looked at him with a pout, somewhat irritated at the mature fae you’re trying to get over. “Of course I’d said you would, considering how much I like you”
For a rare moment, Lilia turned wide-eyed at your words. “Pardon? Do you by chance… harbour feelings for me?”
Turns out, he didn’t know at all
What happens now?
Guess you can still surprise this old man. He had his suspicions but for all he knew that was how the youth were these days. He was fond of your shy expressions whenever he was around and he could hear the quickening of your heartbeat, but he didn’t want to assume. Perhaps you were just more on the skittish side.
In the centuries he lived, he saw love in many forms. In the recent centuries he lived, he got to experience some of those forms of love he’s seen, with the pain and joy that comes with it. To him, it couldn’t ask for more as he lives out the last few centuries he has left.
You however, were still vibrant like a freshly bloomed flower in its prime. Was that why he just couldn’t take his eyes off you? He couldn’t help but watch in admiration as you lived with almost enviable vigour. He felt pulled, entranced to be by your side for even just a moment, just to see that beautiful gleam of life (and love, he realized) in your eyes.
But Lilia felt a beat of guilt in his heart. Your life is so short in comparison to his own. You should be sharing your youth with someone as brilliant as yourself, not pining over an old soul like himself. Humans are fickle creatures but he supposed with such short lives, it’s best to be curious and experience all one can without regrets.
He would be honest with you, sharing his thoughts with you as though warning that your affections were better spent with someone that suited you better. It would be up to you to convince the stubborn fae that he was your choice, that you already decided he suited you just fine. All you’re asking from him is if he shared the same feelings as you did.
“I may have tried to get rid of my feelings before, but I’m choosing not to run away this time,” in your eyes, Lilia sees that same vibrant gleam that mesmerized him, almost breathing a new sense of life into him. “All I ask is if you feel the same way”
And he does. He’s lying to himself if he hasn't thought of a life with you where he could steal surprise kisses throughout the day, where he could bring you to soar through the night skies as he takes you to explore the world with him. He imagines a life of silliness but also a life of blissful content as he gazes at you like a beacon of light in his life, a new reason to live a bit longer.
Lilia feels ensnared by love once more, but the burning warmth in his soul is just too invigorating. He’s looking forward to this new chapter in his life, with you.
I do hope you’ve prepared yourself, my dear. Eternal love with a fae should not be taken lightly. But rest assured, I look forward to our new adventure
How it happened
You were Epel’s close friend and confidant, someone who he can share his achievements and woes with. Being so new to the college, the two of you depend on each other through thick or thin and along the way, you grew to see the lavender-haired freshman as more than just a companion.
He has a bit of a temper and is quick to the jump at times, but he was always there for you and even though he doesn’t always see eye-to-eye with them at times, he respects his seniors and takes their lessons to heart.
When he talks about how much he dislikes his height or his feminine features, you nodded along for his sake but you couldn’t tell him that you were actually in disagreement. You adore his fluffy locks that you occasionally got to touch with his permission and his light blue eyes felt like calming waves of the purest lake. Epel constantly swore to you that he’ll have his growth spurt and will even tower Leona in height, but you like how you could hold him close to you without issue.
You love all that he is, even if he’s not too keen on some parts himself
But you kept this all to yourself. You thought Epel had other priorities on his mind and you were scared that confessing would ruin the friendship you’d built with him. For now, you were content to be by his side for however long you can.
You were dead tired during a particularly harsh Flying class with Coach Vargas and you were barely conscious enough to keep your eyes open. It took everything you had to just nod along to whatever Epel was saying, something about some Savanaclaw students?
“Who they think they are, callin’ me cute like that? I outta rip off their yapper for underestimatin’ me.” You weren’t helping his point when you thought how cute his accent was as he grumbled about his day. You were falling in and out of consciousness but thought you should at least reply back to your friend…anything at all…
“I’m sorry…that happened…even though…I think…you’re really cute…”
You were already out cold to notice your friend frozen in place as you finished your drowsy comment, your head landing on his stiff shoulders.
What happens now?
ALDFIUAHLBWAIGLH
Congratulations, you broke your friend and you don’t even remember it. When you woke up, you couldn’t figure out why Epel was as bright red as his hometown’s apples. Epel couldn’t even bring it up without getting too tongue-tied, his accent sputtering out incomprehensible words.
The blue-eyed freshman was raking his brain for an explanation. You thought he was cute…really cute to be precise, but what does that mean? Did you like him? As in like-like him? Is it normal for non-countryside folk to just say something like that? But most students around here tend to mean it like an insult but you weren’t like them, you would never do that to him. So what did you mean by it??
Left without a choice, Epel thought about who he could ask about this, maybe one of his seniors. But he immediately reconsidered when he realized who his seniors were (Vil and Rook will never let this go and there’s no way Leona would entertain this conversation) and turned to the only adult he can trust, his meemaw.
In his letter, he asked his grandma what it means when someone you cherish calls you cute (not mentioning who) and after a few days of fidgeting and awkward encounters with very confused you, he finally got an answer from her.
“STOP SITTIN’ ON YOUR KEISTER TWIDDLIN’ ‘ER THUMBS! GO AND ASK, DAGNABBIT!”
And that’s how you were confronted by a flustered Epel about your cute comment one random school day. To be fair, you probably didn’t fare any better when you realized you let your thoughts slip out.
You may have confessed your attraction to him but Epel can still be the first to make the first move. Relationships and dating are all new to the petite freshman and honestly he felt a little weak in the knees, all the nerves wracking his body like his first broom ride. But the past few days, he couldn’t stop thinking about being with you, sweeping you off your feet, impressing you the only way he can, to have your eyes solely on him like he does when you’re around. Heck, he thought what it’d be like to grow old with you, holding you like no one else can as you spend day and night by each other’s side. All these thoughts and more is what spur him to take the next step.
I ain’t too great on love and romance, but I’ll work hard to show ya how much ya mean to me. I promise that!
#of course three trouble-making people ends up being on the same post#fate really be like that sometimes#twisted wonderland#twst#disney twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#twst imagines#twst scenarios#twisted wonderland imagines#Ruggie Bucchi#ruggie x reader#chenya x reader#Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker#Chenya#epel felmier#epel x reader#lilia vanrouge#Lilia x reader#twst fluff
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Inspired by this post by @liightsnow
Steve had always been quick to open his home to his friends.
It began of course with allowing Tommy to throw big parties at his house since Steve’s parents were away, later he would open his home to the kids to have a safe place to just be kids. Steve enjoyed having his friends around and it helped fill the silence of his usually empty house. So it was no surprise that when Eddie needed a new location for Hellfire, Steve was the first to volunteer.
He and Eddie had gotten close as Eddie recovered in hospital, he was fun to be around, loud and bright in a way that pushed away the thoughts as to how Eddie ended up in the bed in the first place. Wayne was appreciative of Steve keeping his nephew company while he was at work and Steve always reassured him that it was no trouble, most of the time Steve stayed even when Wayne was there.
There was one issue with hosting Hellfire however, the Hellfire boys. Jeff, Gareth and Grant had visited Eddie a few times after school, all their parents keeping them at home when they could after the “earthquake”, Steve always excused himself allowing Eddie to have time with his friends. Steve couldn’t blame the wary looks that they’d send him, he knew who he was in high school, even Eddie had assumed the same.
This lead Steve to now as he opened the door to the three boys, who were last to arrive. They all nodded politely at Steve before heading straight to where Eddie was calling them in the dining room. At first Steve tried to make himself seem friendly and approachable to them, demonstrating that he had changed since his years of being King of Hawkins High. He set out snacks and got people drinks, even remembering which drinks Eddie had told them were their favourites, but all he got were polite smiles and glances towards Eddie. After receiving similar treatment when he brought them lunch, Steve gave up his attempts and retreated to his bedroom to wait out the rest of the game.
Steve curled into a ball on his bed, knees tucked tightly under his chin as he wrapped his arms around is legs. He got an eerie sense of déjà vu to when he was a child and his mother would send him up to his room once he’d been “showed off” to the guests. His purpose complete and he was no longer needed, Hellfire had what they needed to finish their game without them.
Steve heard joyous cries downstairs and wished for a moment he would’ve been able to stay and watch. Everyone always sounded so happy when the game concluded, and he knew Eddie told the best stories. He knew he couldn’t though, he didn’t want to ruin it for anyone, especially Eddie’s friends.
He was getting ready to go downstairs and clean up, another thing similar to his mother’s parties, when there was a knock at his door.
“Stevie? You ok in there?”
“Huh? Oh yeah, Eds, I’m fine, game finished then?” Steve replied as Eddie entered the room.
“Yeah, it was great, you should’ve stayed to watch Gareth made the best final attack, you have a headache or something, why are you hiding up here?”
“Oh, um,” Steve looked down at his hands, “Thought I’d just be in the way down there, didn’t want to spoil the fun.”
Eddie made a face at this, “Spoil the fun? Sweetheart, everyone would’ve loved you to stay and watch, might get Dustin off your back about playing.”
Steve shook his head, “Your friends don’t really like me much, which I get, it’s fine, glad you guys had a place to play though.”
“Steve why did you offer up your place if you didn’t want to watch? And the guys think you’re fine what’re you talking about, did one of them say something?”
“You guys needed a place to play and I have an empty house, need to be useful someway now that there’s no monsters to fight and my parents cut me off, and no, no one said anything but they always act weird around me.”
“Fuck Stevie, you’re more than just someone useful you know that right? I’d want you around just because I like you around, sweetheart, you don’t have to earn that by offering your house.”
“You sure?”
“Very sure, wasn’t getting better in Casa Harrington, was I? Got better cause I had my favourite jock beside me.” Steve blushed at that. “And as for my friends, I think I know the reason they’re acting weird around you,” Eddie said guiltily.
“Why?”
“Might’ve told them not to embarrass me in front of you,” Eddie said sheepishly.
“Why wouldn’t you want them to- oh,” Steve smiled softly, “Eddie Munson did you want to look cool in front of me because you like me?”
“Would it be bad to say yes?”
Steve lent over and kissed Eddie’s cheek softly, “Not at all.”
When the boys returned downstairs holding hands to find the others cleaning up, Jeff let out a sigh of relief, “Thank fuck you got your shit together Eddie, Harrington can you make those sandwiches again next time, I don’t know what you put in them but Gare ate like 5.”
“Hey, you would’ve eaten just as many if there were any left!”
Steve laughed, “Sure, will make them a Hellfire staple every week.”
The following week Steve was met by wide grins when he opened the door, and celebrated with the party when they defeated Eddie’s villain. Sitting on Eddie’s lap to watch the campaign was a good new perk too.
#steve harrington#light angst ending with fluff#stranger things#eddie munson#steddie#ficlet#hellfire#hellfire boys
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That's My Wife - Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x airline pilot!reader
Summary: 3.2k words. Rooster and his coworkers drew the short stick and ended up on a commercial civilian flight across the country for specialty flight training in Key West. A certain someone makes the flight and travel woes well worth the trouble for Bradley.
Warnings: none really, just tons of fluff! maybe some cursing & frequent usage of she/her pronouns for the reader
a/n: hi!! i posted a little snippet/preview of this fic last night and def did not expect it to get as much attention as it did. i'm so happy that so many of you were just as excited as me to see the finished product! i hope y'all enjoy it! <3
master list
An advanced specialty flight training at the Naval Air Station in Key West had the best aviators in the U.S. military flocking to the vibrant Florida island. This, of course, included Top Gun’s best graduates.
Rooster, Phoenix, and Hangman all had impressive reputations before the Uranium Plant mission led by Maverick. After that mission? They were nothing short of living legends in the Navy. So, naturally, they were among the pilots being sent out for the rigorous training.
The Navy couldn’t rationalize sending a private charter plane or wasting the fuel needed to transport just a few pilots to a base thousands of miles away, so the three aviators were sent on a commercial flight. Phoenix, Hangman, and Rooster got to experience the joys of civilian travel–long security lines through TSA, insufferably stressed-out travelers, and the overwhelming urge to get wasted at the bar conveniently located near their gate.
Hangman joked that if Rooster weren’t in uniform and instead wearing his typical Hawaiian shirts and jorts, he would’ve fit right in with the other passengers. Phoenix, who gave in and treated herself to a glass of wine, snorted before adding that Rooster was uptight enough then to blend in seamlessly.
Bradley would never admit it, but they were probably right. His one consolation was the smile his boarding pass brought to his face. The airline they were traveling with was familiar to Rooster to say the least.
The three aviators received priority boarding as active-duty military personnel. They sat at the very front of the cabin and Phoenix took the opportunity to people-watch as the rest of the passengers boarded. Hangman busied himself with looking into which Key West nightclubs and bars he could hit up after training while Rooster sent a quick text.
2:37 p.m. Hey, baby. Just boarded the flight to Key West. I’ll talk to you when we land 😘 – Brad
2:38 p.m. Have a safe flight, babe 😉💗 – y/n
Rooster chuckled at y/n’s use of a winking emoji before he turned his phone off and slipped it into his pocket. The flight attendants moved down the center aisle to begin their safety demonstration. Rooster was certain he’d sat through the same speech a thousand times, so he got comfortable and closed his eyes to take a nap.
A crackling from the plane’s speakers preceded what Rooster anticipated to be another relatively boring announcement.
“Good afternoon and welcome aboard, everyone. This is your Captain speaking,” an upbeat feminine voice floated through the aircraft’s speakers. Bradley’s eyes shot open wide and he sat up straight at the sound. He’d recognize that voice anywhere.
“No way…” he whispered to himself with a surprised smile.
Phoenix and Hangman shared a side-eye glance once they noticed the sudden change in Rooster’s demeanor. The man previously looked bored out of his mind and now he was hanging on to every word of the announcement. A wide grin spread across Rooster’s face while the pilot continued her introduction. As they taxied toward the runway, Hangman’s curiosity got the better of him.
“What is it, Bradshaw?” Jake asked with a raised brow. The bastard couldn’t help but be nosy. Phoenix softly elbowed Hangman in the ribs, but she certainly wasn’t tuning the conversation out. Rooster confidently squared his shoulders and turned to look at them.
“That’s my wife,” Rooster stated proudly, referring to the captain’s voice with a grin.
Hangman’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head and Phoenix leaned back with an impressed smile. Rooster’s fellow aviators knew he was married; hell, he wore his wedding ring like a badge of honor. He was quick to reject the frequent flirting he received and would simply raise his left ring finger whenever he was asked out at The Hard Deck–the man was nothing if not loyal. But Rooster was never the type to speak about his personal life at work, much less mention that his wife is also a pilot.
In fact, the only person Rooster worked with that knew anything about y/n was Maverick. Bradley introduced them to each other a few months after they started dating. The younger Navy man knew by the end of their second date that y/n was it for him. It took y/n a little longer to come to the same conclusion, but once she did she never looked back.
Actually, it was Maverick that helped y/n realize just how head-over-heels in love she was with Bradley. He brought y/n to meet his stand-in father figure at Mav’s hanger. In the middle of y/n and Maverick geeking out about all the memorabilia displayed in the hanger and trading flight stories, Rooster ran out to silence his Ford Bronco’s ancient and overly-sensitive car alarm. Pete took the opportunity to let y/n know just how whipped his godson was. “I haven’t seen him this happy in a long time, y/n. He’s bailed on our dinner plans at least three times in the past month just to get a chance to see you when you’re in the area.” Maverick smiled and clasped y/n’s shoulder. “You’re good for him. I hope he’s good for you too.”
And the rest was history. Just after their one year anniversary, Bradley got down on one knee in the middle of a crowded airport after they spent three full weeks apart. y/n flung herself into Bradley’s arms, foregoing the ring entirely and pressed her lips against his before she said “yes, yes, a thousand times yes.” Maverick was one of the few people at their wedding. It was small and intimate–just how y/n and Rooster liked it. Their relationship wasn’t a secret by any means, but they preferred things to be private.
Rooster returned from his trip down memory lane as y/n reached the end of her airline spiel. Her simultaneous light-hearted bubbly tone and professional manner had Bradley sporting a sweet smile.
“Before we take off, there’s an additional announcement I’d like to make.” Rooster perked up. y/n was going off-script. “A little birdie told me that some very special Navy aviators are on board with us today,” y/n’s voice came through the speakers, pride seeping into her tone.
Phoenix and Hangman exchanged amused smirks before staring right at Rooster. In a different scenario, the sudden attention focused on him might’ve made him uncomfortable, but he couldn’t care less right now. His wife, whom he hadn’t seen in over a week, was just steps away and he would be able to hold her in his arms again soon.
“Thank you for your service, lady and gents,” y/n finished sincerely. A polite applause filled the aircraft, bringing appreciative smiles to the aviators’ faces. Rooster wasn’t surprised that y/n somehow found out they were on her flight; he knew better than anyone that she was particularly skilled at getting what she wanted, evidently including private passenger information.
With their busy schedules and unpredictable jobs, y/n and Rooster would sometimes go weeks without seeing each other. y/n was gaining seniority in her airline, so she was able to pick and choose her flights sometimes–all of which she strategically planned to be able to visit her husband. When they were on opposite sides of the country, or even the world, it was harder to align their schedules for just a phone call.
A few nights ago, they had synced-up free time and they didn’t waste a minute. Despite the time zone differences, they talked on the phone for hours. Bradley told y/n about his upcoming week of specialty training at the Naval Air Station in Key West. Since there was no pressing mission or deployment, the Navy was opting to send Rooster and his coworkers on a commercial flight rather than coordinate Navy transport. y/n hummed and checked her schedule while they talked. Lo and behold, she would be piloting a flight from San Diego to Key West later that week. Specifically, Rooster’s flight.
y/n didn’t let on anything about their upcoming flight during the phone call, she wanted it to be a surprise. If there was anything being a commercial passenger pilot taught her, it was how to make sure no one suspected anything was wrong while she spoke into her headset mic. Once, she had to make an announcement to casually address turbulence despite her internal panic while she discreetly manually redistributed fuel between engines when the automatic fuel system failed on a cross-country flight.
The very next morning following Rooster and y/n’s phone call, she pulled a few strings at work and was able to glance at the passenger details for the upcoming direct SAN to EYW flight.
Seat 1D: Lt. Bradley Bradshaw
Seat 1E: Lt. Natasha Trace
Seat 1F: Lt. Jake Seresin
If any policies or procedures were violated in the process of y/n finding the answer to her burning question, no one batted an eye. After all, she was quite possibly the most beloved pilot in her airline. So, that’s how she found out exactly which of Rooster’s coworkers would be accompanying him.
As the plane sped down the runway, quickly gaining enough momentum for take-off, Bradley and y/n both fiddled with their wedding rings. It was a habit they’d developed independently, ironically enough.
y/n’s ascent into the air was smooth as always. Even the most nervous passengers appreciated the light-as-a-feather feeling settling over them as y/n gently reached cruising altitude. Rooster was no stranger to his wife’s expert precision and careful handling of her aircrafts. Phoenix and Hangman were thoroughly impressed by y/n’s skill and ease.
Once the fasten seatbelt lights were turned off, the flight attendants made their way down the center aisle of the plane with snack and beverage carts. Hangman didn’t hesitate to order a double shot of whiskey, earning him an incredulous look from both Rooster and Phoenix. ”What happens on this flight, stays on this flight,” he muttered, ignoring the sting in his throat after downing a third of the glass in one go. Phoenix shrugged and ordered herself another glass of wine. Rooster rolled his eyes at both of their antics. Before he could place his own order, the flight attendant addressed him directly.
“Lieutenant Bradshaw? Captain Bradshaw has requested to see you in the cockpit.” Rooster stood up without hesitation, a wide smile on his face. Hangman’s jaw dropped, a small huff escaping his mouth and Phoenix swatted his chest. Before making the short trek to the cockpit, he bought a bag of gummy worms from the snack cart.
He gently rapped his knuckles against the door before slipping inside and shutting the door behind him. y/n didn’t hear Bradley enter the cockpit over her headset, but she instantly recognized his warm cologne. She whipped around and smiled wide at him, taking her co-pilot by surprise. The co-pilot offered to take over and y/n gladly accepted the offer.
y/n typically didn’t haphazardly hop out of her seat while piloting a massive plane with over 200 passengers, but for Bradley, she’d make an exception. She all but threw herself into his arms, sending them both stumbling back a few steps. Rooster gently pulled y/n’s headset off, careful not to mess up her neatly styled hair, before capturing her lips in a searing kiss. y/n’s co-pilot pretended not to notice, but the embarrassed blush spreading across his cheeks gave him away. When y/n pulled away to catch her breath, Bradley pulled her closer and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“How’d you know we’d be on your flight?” he asked, brushing some hair away from his wife’s face.
“I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you,” y/n teased with a wink. Rooster was no stranger to y/n’s scheming, but it typically worked out to his advantage so he could live without knowing the details.
She all but did a happy dance at 34,000 feet in the air when Bradley pulled out the pack of gummy worms he hid in his pocket. y/n had admitted on more than one occasion she often got the munchies on longer flights with only stale peanuts to hold her over. She leaned against her husband’s chest and tore into the package of sugary goodness, offering a few gummy worms to her co-pilot in exchange for him swearing to secrecy.
The plane shuddered from a brief pocket of turbulence–one that y/n would’ve handled better, Rooster thought. Bradley braced himself against the wall and pulled y/n against his body to keep her from falling.
“Do you remember the first time we were in the cockpit of a plane together?” Rooster asked with a reminiscent smile. That first experience was undoubtedly more harrowing then the current one. y/n chuckled at the memory.
“I could never forget it, honey,” y/n smiled back, pressing a kiss to his cheek before offering him a gummy worm. The couple stood comfortable in silence for a few minutes, arms wrapped around each other. With the amount of time they spent apart, every moment they got together was precious. Even if they were simply holding each other in the cramped cockpit of an airplane.
y/n’s attention was pulled away from Bradley when a warning light lit up on the dashboard, accompanied by a shrill beeping. Her co-pilot turned back to her, silently signaling that she was needed back in the pilot seat. With a heavy sigh, she untangled herself from Bradley’s arms and pressed a final peck to his lips with a promised “I’ll see you later, baby.”
Rooster watched his wife climb in her well-deserved pilot seat and slip her headset back on. She switched back to her professional demeanor with an impressive ease as she worked to remedy the dash’s highlighted issue.
He wordlessly slipped out of the cockpit and back to his seat. Hangman, who was on the brink of tipsy after his strong whiskey, lost all sense of discretion as Rooster sat back down in his seat.
“Bradshaw, you sly dog. Was the Missus excited to see you?” Hangman poked, focusing on the lipstick print adorning Rooster’s cheek. Phoenix passed Rooster a napkin with a grin of her own. Bradley rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his smile.
With just an hour left in the flight, y/n handed all the controls over to her co-pilot so she could stretch her legs. Lucky for her, her husband was seated just outside of the cockpit. Whoever booked the seats for the aviators knew what they were doing; Bradley Bradshaw was too tall for his own good, something y/n reminded him of frequently. Ironically enough, she never brought up that teasing point when she needed help reaching something around the house or when they went grocery shopping. The point is, being seated at the very front of the cabin gave Bradley sufficient room for his long legs.
y/n slipped out of the cockpit as inconspicuously as possible. She learned from past experience that passengers tended to freak out when they saw pilots, well, not piloting in the cockpit while the plane was airborne. y/n smiled softly as she took in the sight of her husband quietly snoring with his head leaned back against the chair and mouth wide open. She thought about taking a photo, but she was nearly positive Jake Seresin already had based on the devious grin on his face.
Phoenix noticed movement in the front of the cabin, her eyes eventually landing on a woman in a formal pilot uniform. Her face looked familiar. Phoenix was sure she’d seen her somewhere before. With a final squint, she realized the woman a few strides away was the same woman in all of Rooster’s locker polaroids. Mrs. Bradshaw in the flesh.
y/n offered a friendly smile to Phoenix, who seemed to have figured out who she was. Hangman was still focused on the picture he intended to eventually use for blackmail. Phoenix gently shook Rooster’s shoulder, stirring him from his nap. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes before his eyes settled on his wife.
“Good morning, Brad,” y/n cooed and reached out to grab his hand. He quickly checked his watch before pulling y/n in and kissing the back of her hand.
“Hi, baby,” he greeted with a glint in his eye. y/n chuckled, she knew he was holding himself back from calling her a smart ass while she was on the job. Hangman watched the interaction in awe. Not only did Bradshaw have a skilled pilot wife, but she was also gorgeous and witty? Jake briefly thought about asking Rooster for dating pointers.
The sleepy fog clouding Rooster’s brain cleared when he had three expectant sets of eyes on him, waiting for him to make introductions. He introduced Natasha and Jake first, citing their names and call signs, even though y/n already knew both from the stories her husband told.
“Phoenix, Hangman, this is Captain y/n Bradshaw, my wife,” Rooster finished with a warm smile. Man, he was whipped.
“Outranked by your wife, huh, Bradshaw?” Hangman jabbed harmlessly. The whiskey wore off a while ago, but Jake was always eager for an opportunity to poke fun at Rooster.
“Mmm, I outrank you as well, Lieutenant,” y/n smiled sweetly, responding without missing a beat. Phoenix chuckled and held out her hand to high-five y/n for her quick comeback. Jake was certain he heard Rooster mutter “that’s my girl,” as he looked up at his wife with a grin.
Rooster’s coworkers made small talk with y/n as she pulled her leg up behind her in a subtle stretch, using her husband’s hand to keep steady before switching sides and repeating the motion. In just the span of the few minutes y/n spent talking to Hangman and Phoenix, all of Bradley’s stories involving them made so much sense. When there was a brief lull in conversation, y/n checked her wristwatch, her eyes widening when she realized she’d been out for longer than expected.
“It was really nice to meet you guys, but I gotta get back in there,” y/n said apologetically. Hangman and Phoenix nodded in understanding, they were more than familiar with the painstaking pillar of time in aviation. Bradley gently squeezed y/n’s hand before she left, still trying to shake his nap-induced daze.
y/n turned on her heel just before reaching the cockpit door to face Bradley again.
“Are you free tonight?” y/n asked hopefully. The week-long training wasn’t scheduled to start until the following day, but she knew it wasn’t unlikely that the Navy would have Rooster busy in his spare time beforehand. His wife’s soft voice and wishful eyes were more than enough to have Bradley’s heart melting. Hell, he’d hand in his resignation as soon as the plane landed if it meant he could spend some time with y/n.
“For you? Always, baby,” Bradley smiled and winked at y/n. The captain grinned and slipped back into the cockpit, looking forward to being back on the ground with her husband.
a/n: did anyone notice the Top Gun (1986) reference 👀? anyways, i hope u liked it! pls lmk what you think, i love reading ur comments & reblogs! :)
also!! i have a bit of a prequel for how rooster & pilot!reader met in the works. i'll finish it up & post it if anyone is interested :)
#rooster x reader#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw imagine#rooster imagine
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Their doll
A little series about you being a fun toy for Ghost, Nikto and König ;) this is the first part, if you guys like it I can do more. I was just bored and I was thinking of my favorites trio and I decided to share. English is not my first language so I apologize don't laugh pls. Enjoy
18+
Sub!Reader, Dom Ghost, Dom Nikto, Dom König, blackmailing, degradation, nude photos
You have a group chat with these three and get yourself into a big mess.
König Made a group chat with him, you, Nikto and Ghost just for fun. You guys were all texting each other, chatting every time someone was bored.
Recently you saw a cute Instagram picture of girls in some lacy underwear and you wanted to try to take the same photo. And you did. It was so hot...you were in pink lace with bunny ears and your tongue sticking out playfully. Of course you weren't going to post it anywhere it was just for fun. However few days after that you were chatting in the group chat and you accidentally sent the photo. You didn't noticed until you got back to your room. You opened the group chat and your cheeks immediately got red from embarrassment as you found out what you sent. And reaction of those men were not helping.
Ghost: ...*saves*
Nikto: ...*saves*
König: *saves*
You were extremely embarrassed and seeing that they saved it made you extremely frustrated and...a little wet. You immediately write back
Y/N: guys please that was an accident no one was supposed to see it! Just promise to keep it to yourself and don't tell anyone!
You wrote despretly hoping they would be gentlemen and forget about it. You saw they started to type and you were getting nervous. After some time they replied.
König: sheize! Your body is so hot in that lace liebe....those bunny ears really suits you
Ghost: adorable doll
Nikto: blyat.... just like a little whore....
Y/N: please promise to keep it to yourself guys!
Their reactions were making you feel butterflies in your tummy but you ignored it as much as you could.
Nikto: why should we keep it to ourselves? I think everyone deserves to see such a lovely bunny
Ghost: agreed. Price and Soap are gonna love this
König: guys don't be mean to her
Ghost: don't be mean? Doll was the one to send it to us she definitely wanted to be praised
Nitko: why shouldn't we show it to other guys hm y/n?
König: guys...
You were trembling a little from all the stress and embarrassed you got from these three...were they actually gonna show it to other people? You can't let that happen you have to do something
Y/N: please I'll do anything just please don't show it to anyone else...
Ghost: anything you say huh doll? Then we should come up with something really fun
Nikto: fuck I'm going to enjoy this
König didn't write anything...he was waiting to see how this is going to work out. You knew you were going to regret this... however it was better than the whole base seeing your photo.
Y/N: yes...anything
Nikto: then I have a great idea
Ghost: then share it with us
Nikto: send us another photo...but this time without that ugly lace. Just your beautiful body all naked for us
Ghost: God damn I have to see that. You also interested König? Or you gonna be the good boy and not play with us?
König: yeah....I want to see too
König replied really embarrassed but he wanted to see you naked also. You couldn't believe it...you were getting into more and more trouble...they were blackmailing you so they could enjoy themselves over your nudes. You were really angry at them...but you felt slightly aroused too... however you didn't want to admit that. You had to obey...so you got all your clothes off, sat on the bed and took a nude picutre of you laying on the bed. You send it to them with no caption hoping they would be satisfied enough
Ghost: fucking hell doll
Nikto: now that's a good girl I knew it your a whore
König: your really pretty y/n
Y/N: hope your happy I'm not doing anything else!
You replied confident that now they would be satisfied and end their game. Oh how wrong you were...you had no idea this was just a beggining.
Ghost: oh I thought you already knew who's in charge doll, should we remind you? Do you want to see your dumb pretty face all over the base or not?
Y/N: no...
Nikto: then be a good obedient whore and don't talk back.
König: I think it's going to be better if you obey, y/n
You were so done...they were being so mean. And you were getting more upset and more aroused. It was making you all so Horny and angry at the same time that you didn't know if you want to slap them or fuck them...
Ghost: alright dollface it's late go get some sleep. Your going to have a rough day tomorrow
Nikto: yeah be ready princess we are going to shape you into our perfect little doll
König: goodnight y/n
Well You got yourself into a big trouble...
#call of duty#cod x reader#nikto x reader#nikto#cod x you#cod x y/n#ghost x reader#könig x reader#konig cod#simon ghost riley
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Enough to Go By (Chapter 5) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic
Your best friend vanished on the same night his family was murdered, and even though the world forgot about him, you never did. When a chance encounter brings you back into contact with Shimura Tenko, you'll do anything to make sure you don't lose him again. Keep his secrets? Sure. Aid the League of Villains? Of course. Sacrifice everything? You would - but as the battle between the League of Villains and hero society unfolds, it becomes clear that everything is far more than you or anyone else imagined it would be. (cross-posted to Ao3)
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4
Chapter 5
You end up on a rooftop, you and Tenko and Kurogiri. Tenko has a pair of binoculars, and he lets you look through them before you have a chance to ask what he’s looking for. “We’re in Hosu,” he says. “The current location of the Hero Killer.”
“Are you going to fight him?”
“I’m doing what you said.”
You can’t remember what you said, except for your stupid joke. “Making him unfuckable?”
Tenko snickers, and somewhere behind you, Kurogiri does the same – which is extra weird. “No. Putting us back in the headlines.”
“Oh.” You don’t like this. “I’m not a strategist. You shouldn’t listen to me.”
“Why?” Tenko gives you a weird look. “You’re not stupid. Your ideas aren’t any worse than mine.”
“I don’t want you to get mad at me if it goes wrong,” you say. “I’ve heard you get mad at Kurogiri.”
Kurogiri chuckles. “That’s different,” he says. “Shigaraki Tomura. Tell her why it’s different.”
“Shut up,” Tenko says. He put the hand back over his face once he let go of your hand, but he’s turning red around it. Again. “Kurogiri’s not my sidekick. I don’t have to listen to him.”
“You don’t have to listen to me, either,” you say. “I don’t know anything about being – this.”
“You understand them better than I do,” Tenko says. He gestures at the expanse of Hosu before you. “What would it take to make you stop trusting heroes?”
You already don’t trust heroes very much. What would it take to move people like your parents or your siblings, who live in the other Japan, to where you are? “To see them choose wrong.”
Tenko gives you a curious look. “What do you mean?”
“Heroes can’t save everybody. They can’t be everywhere. They can’t be there all the time. But nobody ever thinks that the heroes won’t choose to save them,” you explain. “If you wanted to shake things up, you’d have to make it so the heroes choose wrong. For everybody to see.”
Tenko’s eyes light up, and the smile on his face this time looks less like your friend’s and more like the villain he’s become. “Then we’re in the right place,” he says. “This city is crawling with heroes looking for Stain. Let’s put them in a bind. Kurogiri, bring the Nomu. All of them.”
“Nomu?” you squeak, even as multiple portals open around you. “You have more than one?”
“We have lots. Sensei only gave me three.” Tenko gestures proudly at the monsters emerging from the portals. Everything about them looks like they’ve been put together wrong, from their staring eyes to their featureless faces to their pasty skin that smells like rot. The news reports about the attack on UA were clear about one thing – the Nomu that faced off against All Might was fast and extremely strong. “What do you think?”
One passes close to you and you cringe away, closer to Tenko. “They’re awful.”
“Exactly,” Tenko says. He stares down at the city, an expression on his face that’s somehow grim and vicious at once. “Let’s see what the rest of them think.”
The Nomus crawl down the sides of the building and vanish into the city. Tenko hasn’t given them orders, and neither has Kurogiri. You have questions – a lot of questions – but you’re not sure what it’s safe to ask. You’re Tenko’s sidekick, but that doesn’t mean his plans are yours to comment on. It feels weird to keep quiet, too. You and Tenko used to get in trouble for talking in class because you never ran out of things to talk about.
“You don’t look weird.”
You cough. “What?”
“You don’t look weird,” Tenko says again. You look at him, surprised, and find him looking straight ahead, peering through the binoculars. “I should have let you fix my shoulder the rest of the way.”
“What did you end up doing with it?” You reach over and part the cut fabric on his shoulder, wincing as you get a look at the bandaging job. “Next time, just let me finish.”
“Can you fix the rest of it?”
“I can’t do more stitches when it’s been open this long,” you say. Tenko grimaces but doesn’t swear at you. “There’s a chance it’ll get infected. If it does –”
“I’ll send Kurogiri to find you.”
“Tell him to give me a heads-up instead of just snatching me. I might need to grab antibiotics and I don’t want to make two trips.”
Tenko nods like this makes sense, which it does, except for the context. You’re standing here on the roof of a building in a city that’s already facing one villainous threat, while your childhood best friend turned aspiring supervillain has just released another – on your advice, no less. You try to rationalize it. Hosu is crawling with heroes, like Tenko said. If they’re good heroes, they’ll divert their attention to protecting the civilians. Heroes fighting Nomus will get Tenko the headlines he wants for the League of Villains, and if nobody gets hurt aside from the heroes who signed up for the job –
You need to be careful with that line of thinking. With that line of thinking, you could excuse what happened to the students during the attack on UA. “Can I ask you something?” you say, and Tenko nods. “Why did you go after the students?”
“I wasn’t after them. The point was All Might.”
“But you brought all those other villains,” you say. “On the news they said that Kurogiri moved the kids all over the training facility so the villains could kill them. And –”
You’re thinking of something else you heard, from Kazuo – that Tenko tried to kill at least three students directly, and All Might’s arrival was the only thing that stopped him. “He was supposed to be there from the beginning,” Tenko says. “All Might. Dividing the students up was supposed to distract him. Split his focus so he’d be more vulnerable to Nomu.”
You don’t know what you were expecting him to say, but it wasn’t that. “Those villains were weak,” Tenko continues. “The brats could deal with them on their own. It would have taken All Might two seconds. But two seconds is all we would have needed.”
“So it was – strategy.”
“Yeah.” Tenko lowers his binoculars, glances at you. “Do you believe me?”
The words leave your mouth before you can think better of them. “I’d believe you more if I could see you.”
Tenko was in the process of looking away. Now he glances back, and you can tell he’s startled, even through the fingers of the hand. You’re not sure what the hands are for. When he attacked the USJ, he was wearing multiple sets, but usually he only wears Father around you. You haven’t asked him to remove the hand before – only asked him where it was when he wasn’t wearing it, and when you think it over, you can’t see any commonalities between the times when it’s off and the times when it’s on. Maybe it’s the kind of thing you can ask about now that you’re Tenko’s sidekick again.
Tenko grips the binoculars one-handed, reaching up to remove the hand with the other. “The brats weren’t the real target,” he says.
“But you still tried to kill three of them.”
“Yeah,” Tenko says, like it doesn’t matter, without care – and without malice. “They were right there, and I thought All Might wasn’t coming. Everybody had to see how he failed again.”
Again? You’re not the biggest All Might fan, but you don’t remember hearing about All Might failing to save children who were being held hostage. In fact, when All Might has to prioritize, he saves children first. Tenko is watching you now. “Do you believe me?”
“I believe you,” you say, and you see his shoulders relax. “You’re not a very good liar.”
He never was. When you were trying to get away with things as children, you did the talking. Tenko’s job was to stay quiet and not make eye contact with whichever adult was questioning the two of you. No matter how desperate he was not to get caught, a few seconds of eye contact was enough to break him. In the present, Tenko smiles slightly. “Lucky I’ve got you.”
You like seeing him smile, and you’ve seen it twice tonight. The knot in your chest relaxes, only to tighten again as a chorus of screams rise from the city below. Tenko lifts his binoculars eagerly and you twist your hands together, trying to contain your unease. You have your best friend. He wants you with him – his sidekick, just like you used to be. You still know how to make him smile. And he’s a villain, the kind of villain who, when his plan to kill All Might looked like it wouldn’t pan out, decided to kill three children instead. What are you doing here?
More screams from below. You wonder how many civilians are being hurt, how many heroes are protecting them versus chasing Stain. You know there’s a free clinic branch in Hosu, one that’s open overnight just like yours is. They’ll be busy tonight. At least you won’t have to worry about them treating injured villains as well as civilians.
Or will they? What are the Nomus, exactly? Where did they come from? Is that the kind of question you’re allowed to ask Tenko now that you’re friends again? “Um,” you start, but he doesn’t look at you, just keeps peering through the binoculars. Sometimes he focuses so hard it’s like his ears stop working. You remember that from when you were kids. “Tenko?”
He still doesn’t answer. You reach out, touch his shoulder, and he startles so badly that he drops the binoculars. If he grabs them with all five fingers, they’ll disintegrate. You catch them for him, since it’s your fault, and pass them back once he’s ready. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“It’s – fine.” Tenko’s shoulder is tense beneath your hand. You’re still touching him, and you shouldn’t be. You pull your hand back. “What is it?”
“The Nomu,” you say hesitantly. “What are they?”
It’s quiet for a second. “Shigaraki Tomura,” Kurogiri warns. “You should not –”
“She won’t tell,” Tenko says without looking at him. He hasn’t put the hand back over his face. “They’re – I guess you could call them zombies. They’re made from bodies. Usually two or three bodies, and three or four quirk factors. It’s usually the same quirk factors. Shock absorption, regeneration, speed. I don’t care if you touch me.”
You’re too busy trying to wrap your head around the fact that somebody’s figured out how to raise the dead to catch the last thing. It takes you a second to get to it, and even then, you have to ask a clarifying question. “You don’t care? Or you don’t mind?”
“I don’t mind.”
Something is wrong with you. Something is really wrong with you that you’re more interested in why Tenko doesn’t mind if you touch him than in the fact that Tenko has multiple zombies at his disposal to turn loose on unsuspecting heroes and civilians. You try to focus. “Where do the bodies come from?”
“I don’t know,” Tenko says. He’s frowning slightly. A moment later, he puts the hand back on his face – but before you can decide if it’s because he’s mad at you, he hands you the binoculars. “Look.”
You look through them. You’re looking in the wrong spot, and after a few seconds of trying to give you directions, Tenko gives up and just covers your hands with his, moving you in the right direction. His index fingers are lifted, protecting you from his quirk. You see what he wanted you to look at quickly enough – heroes facing off against the Nomus. Endeavor facing off against the Nomus. It looks like the heroes chose right.
You can’t deny that it’s a relief. The civilians will always be your priority, and even if almost everyone has a quirk, most of those quirks are useless when it comes to defending against zombies with multiple quirks, and they’re banned from using them anyway. But you have the sense that Tenko’s not pleased, and when you look at him, you see him scowling behind the hand. “They’re making it look too easy,” he complains.
“These Nomu were not as strong as the Nomu from USJ,” Kurogiri says. “You were made aware, Shigaraki Tomura.”
“These heroes aren’t as strong as All Might,” Tenko snaps in response. “Master set me up – again –”
You spot something through the binoculars. Something Tenko needs to see. You push them back into his hands. “Look at that.”
Tenko’s still scowling, but he lifts the binoculars to peer through them. A second later he startles. Even without the binoculars, you can see a dark shape in distant flight over the city, something clutched in its claws. You don’t know who the Nomu grabbed, or where it’s taking them, but Tenko can’t fail to be pleased with that. Can he?
He can. A moment later he swears. “Fucking Hero Killer –”
Your heart sinks. “What happened?”
“He killed it. To save some hero brat.” Tenko’s binoculars are crumbling in his hand. You wonder if he even notices. “Fucking Hero Killer. Fuck!”
You’re pretty sure that’s not the end of the story. The Hero Killer saved a hero, after claiming that there’s only one true hero, and it’s All Might? You slide your phone out of your pocket, clear a bunch of notifications from your friends’ group chat, and navigate to Twitter. Somebody’s got to be reporting on this live, and sure enough, you find “Hero Killer” trending, plus a livestream of Stain’s arrest. He’s getting arrested, and with at least twenty murders under his belt, there’s no way he’s getting out of Tartarus in this lifetime. You touch Tenko’s shoulder again – after all, he said it was fine – and speak quietly. “Hey.”
“What?”
He won’t look at you. “Look at this,” you say instead, holding out your phone. “The heroes got him.”
“So?”
“So that’s it for him,” you say. “He’s going to prison for the rest of his life. All Might’s definitely not going to fuck him now.”
It’s quiet for a second, aside from a wheeze emanating from somewhere behind the two of you. It’s still weird to hear Kurogiri laugh. You don’t even know if he has lungs. Beside you, Tenko’s doing everything in his power to hang onto his scowl, and it’s not working very well. “Is that the only joke you know?”
You feel a surge of relief. “I’ll stop using it when you stop laughing at it.”
You hear the sound of helicopter blades in the distance, growing closer. Tenko can hear it, too. “Kurogiri, let’s go. We’re done here.”
You barely have a second to wonder where you’re headed before the black mist wells up, and you’re not entirely surprised to find yourself back in the bar. Kurogiri’s behind it already. Tenko’s sitting at it, the chair next to his kicked outwards. As you watch, Kurogiri sets two glasses down and lifts an unopened bottle of champagne. He opens it, pouring first Tenko’s glass, then the glass in front of the empty chair.
Tenko glances over his shoulder, spots you, and gestures impatiently at the chair. You sit down next to him and study the glass of champagne. Tenko’s already chugging his, but he stops halfway and glances at you. “Why aren’t you drinking it?”
You could lie, but you don’t want to. “I watched him pour it, and I don’t think you’d drug me. But I still have to be careful.”
Tenko doesn’t look offended. Instead he swaps glasses with you, and Kurogiri makes a discontented noise. “She doesn’t want to drink your backwash, Tomura. Even if you did brush your teeth before we left.”
“Shut up,” Tenko snaps at him. He’s turning red again. You look down into your new glass, trying not to laugh. “I brush my teeth all the time. You’re not special.”
That one gets you. You start laughing, and Kurogiri makes that weird wheezing sound. You’re starting to realize that unlike the villain you met earlier today, who was all over the place, Kurogiri’s got two distinct aspects – one that’s more formal, more severe, and another that’s significantly more relaxed. The second one sounds younger, too, and the impression only grows stronger when Kurogiri speaks again. “If you drink someone else’s backwash, it’s like making out with them indirectly.”
“No it isn’t! I didn’t ask you!”
Tenko is bright red and sputtering, and Kurogiri’s yellow eyes are crinkling, almost the way a person’s would. It occurs to you what this aspect of Kurogiri reminds you of – a sibling. You teased your younger siblings the exact same way, when you could get away with it. Well aware that you’re making some kind of statement about the whole thing, you pick up the glass that used to be Tenko’s and take a small sip. It doesn’t taste like anything but champagne.
When you look up, you find Tenko and Kurogiri watching you. Staring, more accurately – Tenko’s jaw is dropped. You will your face not to flush. “Thanks for switching with me. As long as you don’t pass out in the next half an hour, we’re good to go.”
“So you have to stay at least that long.”
He doesn’t want you to leave. You take another sip of champagne, giving yourself time to get under control. You don’t want Tenko to know how pleased you are with the thought, or how ambivalent you are at being pleased by it. “I guess I do.”
You stay for another hour and a half, reading over the news coverage of the Nomu attack and the Hero Killer’s capture until you can barely keep your eyes open. But you have an early morning, and even though Tenko complains that you have to go and makes fun of you for agreeing to take Yoshimi to her appointment, he doesn’t suggest that you back out of it. As Kurogiri is determining where to set a warp gate to send you back to Yokohama, you ask him why not.
Tenko gives you a weird look. “I know you,” he says. “That’s not who you are.”
He’s right. It isn’t. And as much as you’re pleased by the thought that your best friend still knows you after all these years, the disquiet lurking underneath it follows you home, curls up on your chest as you try to fall asleep. You’re not the kind of person who’d turn your back on a friend, or go back on your word once you’ve given it. But apparently you’re the kind of person who watches a villain turn monsters loose on innocent people and does absolutely nothing to stop him.
You might have made your choice already. You might have stepped over the line. But you have a bad feeling that you’ll be looking back over your shoulder at it until it’s vanished over the horizon, knowing you made the wrong call and knowing deep in your bones that there’s nothing else you could have done.
You’ve done basically nothing, but you still get the sense that you’re leading a double life. You comfort yourself with the thought that even if you went to the police, you’d have nothing useful to tell them. You don’t know where Tenko’s hideout is. You don’t know anything about who makes the Nomus or where they’re hidden. You don’t know anything about Kurogiri except that it seems like there are two personalities in there, and what Kazuo said about his quirk not being natural. You’re still not sure what Kazuo meant by that. Just like you’re not sure who Tenko’s master is.
The things you know would be absolutely useless to them. You know that Tenko recovered from his USJ injuries only to get immediately slashed up by Stain. You know Tenko likes champagne but can’t hold his liquor for shit. You know he’s smart and strategic, a lot more than the news gives him credit for, which is bad for them and probably also bad for you. You know he likes video games more than he did when he was a kid, but he likes you just as much as he did back then. You like him just as much, too. Probably too much.
You haven’t seen him again since that night in Hosu. You know he’ll send Kurogiri to find you if he needs you, and the fact that he doesn’t need you means he’s not getting hurt. But you’re watchful anyway. No matter where you’re walking, day or night, you find yourself keeping a close eye the shadows, watching from your peripheral vision in case one of them hides a warp gate. Or better yet, hides Tenko.
“Hypervigilance,” Kazuo remarks when he catches you at it, one partly cloudy day in early June. “A hallmark of traumatic stress. You could benefit from counseling.”
“It’s not wrong to be wary,” you say. “Things are more dangerous than they used to be. Don’t you feel it?”
“Another hallmark of PTSD. Persistent, negative cognitions about yourself, others, or the world, exemplified by statements like The world is more dangerous than it used to be.” Kazuo can be a real asshole sometimes. “But you’re correct. Crime rates have steadily increased as All Might’s taken a step back from the public eye.”
“You really think it’s All Might?” You glance sideways at Kazuo. “Not the League of Villains?”
“The League of Villains is a symptom,” Kazuo says. The two of you got to the park early; the rest of your friends are running late for your meetup. “I looked into the backgrounds of those who were captured in the attack on USJ. For the most part, I found petty crime – thievery, fleeing from the police, physical violence committed in the course of fleeing a crime scene or an altercation with heroes.”
That tracks with the kind of villains you run into at work. Most of them have done next to nothing to earn the title. “Looking back further,” Kazuo continues, “I found poverty, substance abuse, quirk-based discrimination, childhood trauma. There were some among the criminals at USJ who sought violence specifically and consistently from an early age, but for the majority of them, it was far from inevitable that they would become criminals. It could have been otherwise.”
Thinking about what’s going on with Tenko, you’ve gotten in the habit of playing devil’s advocate. “And that’s on All Might? One hero can’t fix poverty, or childhood trauma –”
“No, they cannot. But the presence of heroes gives everyone else an excuse not to try to fix anything,” Kazuo says. He gives you a look. “There will always be some villains. The existence of enough villains to allow your friend to form a League of them means that society is failing.”
“You’re not wrong,” you say. Usually when you admit that Kazuo’s right, he moves on, but this time he keeps looking at you. “What?”
“At least try to deny it,” Kazuo says, and you know what he’s talking about. “One day I won’t be the one asking.”
You know he’s right, but as much as Tenko occupies your thoughts, you don’t have much time to dwell on him on a daily basis. Yoshimi’s sick, cancer in her lymphatic system, and with her family out of the picture and her shitty boyfriend dumping her the second he found out, you and your friends are on overdrive trying to support her. Since you’re the only one who works in the field, a lot of the daily stuff is falling on you. You’ve been taking some shifts at the central clinic so you can check in on her while she’s there for treatments, and since the high school students are all studying for their medical assistant exams, you’ve been grabbing fill-in night shifts at your regular clinic at the same time. You’re getting four hours of sleep a night, if that.
You’re exhausted. So exhausted that, when the shadows in the corner of your vision turn out to be mist as you’re walking home from the park, you keep walking straight into Kurogiri’s warp gate without a second thought.
When you arrive in the bar, Kurogiri seems surprised to see you. “I thought you might run.”
“I’m too tired to run,” you say. “Does he need me?”
Kurogiri nods, as much as a person with mist for a head can nod. “Follow me.”
You balk when you realize where you’re headed. “He doesn’t want me in there.”
“He asked me to bring you there specifically,” Kurogiri says. “Don’t worry. He’s cleaned.”
“Oh.”
The door to Tenko’s room is open, but Kurogiri knocks anyway. “Shigaraki Tomura, the girl –”
“You’re here.” Tenko appears suddenly in the doorway, the hand clamped over his face. “That was fast. You didn’t run away?”
“What kind of sidekick runs when their boss calls?” You look Tenko over. “Kurogiri said you needed me. Are you hurt?”
“My shoulder’s a mess,” Tenko says, unconcerned. “I needed to talk to you. Come in.”
He takes a few steps back, leaving room for you to step through the door. The memory of how Tenko reacted last time is still fresh in your head, and based on Tenko’s expression, he can tell. “I cleaned it,” he says impatiently. “Come in.”
In spite of the fact that your best friends have usually been boys, you haven’t spent a lot of time in boys’ rooms. The ones you have been in aren’t exactly standard. Kazuo’s room looked like an interior design magazine spread even before his mind snapped, so minimalist it was hard to imagine anyone actually living there. Sho’s room looks more like a girl’s room than yours does. Tenko’s room back when you were kids just looked like a kid’s room. Like how you would have wanted your room to look if you weren’t already sharing it with two siblings.
Tenko’s room, compared to the last time you saw it, is no longer filthy. You can see the floor, at least, and some rearranging has occurred. The desk and monitor setup has been shifted unceremoniously into one corner of the room, and on the wall where it previously sat is a flatscreen TV. You can see that it’s hooked up to a router, as well as a cable or smart TV box, and there are a few consoles and controllers strewn around nearby. Across the room from the TV is a coffee table. And behind that, a bed.
You gesture at it. “Was this here before?”
Tenko doesn’t answer. “Kurogiri, go,” he orders, and you glance over your shoulder just in time to see Kurogiri vanish from the doorway. “Sit down.”
You sit down on one end of the bed and Tenko sits on the other. He slides a collection of games across the coffee table to you. “I like all of these. You can pick which one we play first.”
“I’m not good at games.”
“I’ll teach you what you need to know,” Tenko says. He pushes the games at you again. “Pick.”
You start sorting through the games, searching in vain for any title you know while you try to shift the subject back into reasonable territory. “You said something was wrong with your shoulder. Can I look at it?”
“It’s not that bad.”
“You said it was a mess,” you point out. “Let me see.”
“Pick a game and then you can see it.”
You see exactly one title you know – Call of Duty. You hold it up and Tenko frowns. “We can play that one for a bit. In co-op mode. But after that –”
“Show me your arm.”
Tenko scowls, but he moves from the other end of the bed until he’s within reach. He’s wearing a short-sleeved shirt, oversized to the point where you can draw the neckline aside and reveal the wound. It’s clear that the stitches have been disturbed. The wound site is red and angry-looking and you can see scratches around it. There should be a scab on the part that Tenko wouldn’t let you stitch, but it’s clearly been peeled away. It’s either infected already or about to be, and either way, the healing process is going slower than it should be. A surge of frustration sweeps over you.
You look up at Tenko and find him watching you, unrepentant. “What?”
“You were scratching this.”
“It itched,” Tenko says. He gives you a weird look. “You never said not to.”
“I didn’t think I had to say not to scratch your open wounds.” Your frustration seeps into your tone. “You should have sent Kurogiri to get me as soon as the swelling started.”
“I tried. You’re always busy.” Tenko’s voice takes on the quality of a sneer. “Kurogiri’s been watching you for three days. You’re at that other clinic with that girl all the time.”
He didn’t use to be like this. He didn’t use to be jealous. “She has cancer. She needs someone –”
“She has other friends and doctors and parents and some loser boyfriend somewhere,” Tenko says. You start to argue that Yoshimi doesn’t have a boyfriend, courtesy of said boyfriend being a loser, but Tenko cuts you off. “She has lots of people. I only have you.”
He has Kurogiri, his master, the doctor, the Nomu – or does he? Shigaraki Tomura has those people. Tenko only has you. You peel your eyes from the angry mess Tenko’s wound has become and look up at him. “If I had known you needed me, I’d have found a way to be here. You’re my best friend.”
“I know. I –” Tenko breaks off, frustrated. “I didn’t mess with it so you’d come back.”
“I didn’t think that,” you say. “I know you scratch sometimes. It seems like less than before.”
“Only when you’re here.” Tenko shifts in his seat. You’re about to tell him he shouldn’t worry about that when he speaks again. “I feel different when you’re here. Can you fix it?”
“I’ll need to take the stitches out and clean it before I bandage it up again, but yes.” You look around for the medical supplies and Tenko pries open a drawer full of them. “Then we can play the game.”
“I can’t believe you like Call of Duty.”
“It’s just the only one I recognize,” you admit, and Tenko laughs. You like hearing him laugh. “Get ready to lose all respect for me. You might want a better sidekick.”
“I don’t need a better sidekick,” Tenko says. “I’m good enough for both of us.”
Warmth floods through you, pooling in your cheeks and your chest and the pit of your stomach. He remembers. You pull on a pair of gloves and open the suture kit. The sooner you rebandage his wound, the sooner you can play a game with your best friend for the first time since you were kids.
But after you’ve taken out the stitches, as you’re bandaging his shoulder, you notice something. The other times you’ve seen Tenko and treated his wounds, he’s been wearing long sleeves, and when you’ve cut them to get a look at the injuries, you haven’t paid much attention to whatever else might be underneath them. Now, with his arms exposed by design, you can see things you didn’t before. Tenko’s always scratched. After fifteen years of scratching he’d naturally have scars. But when the two of you were kids, you never saw him scratch his forearms. And you’ve never seen scratches look so uniform, so evenly spaced. You’ve seen things that look like that before. They weren’t scratches.
You look up and find Tenko looking at you already. “Sensei had me do them. So I’d be stronger,” he says. Your heart seizes in your chest. “Not in a while, though. When I got strong enough he let me stop.”
“That’s messed up.” You’ve been careful not to speak against Tenko’s master, not when you know so little about him, but you can’t hold back this time. “Hurting yourself doesn’t make you stronger. It just makes you hurt.”
“What would you know about it?”
“Lots. I see it every day.”
Tenko gives you a look that tells you just how little he thinks of whatever you’ve seen, and you lose patience. You let go of his arm and pull up the sleeve of your own short-sleeve shirt. “I don’t mean at work.”
Tenko’s jaw drops behind the hand. “Who made you do that?”
“Nobody made me. I did it myself, which makes me a lot dumber than you,” you say. Tenko’s lines are even. Yours are jagged, because you were angry or crying or hurrying to finish up before one of your siblings needed the bathroom or your mom came back to keep arguing with you. “Was your master trying to make you stronger? Or was he trying to teach you not to show when something hurts?”
Based on the way Tenko’s red eyes flash, you know you’ve hit the nail on the head. “What were you trying to do, then? When you were being dumber than me?”
You were being really dumb. So dumb that it’s embarrassing to talk about. “It’s a reset, biologically. Injuries force the body to release endorphins, which make you feel better for a little bit. There was a while where I had trouble controlling my temper. It helped me do that. Or at least not show it.”
“A while,” Tenko repeats. “You should have had trouble the entire fucking time.”
“I did,” you admit after a second. “You used to tell me it wasn’t okay, what my family was like. It took a while to believe you.”
Half the reason you didn’t believe Tenko was because you knew his family was messed up, too. No matter what else your dad did, he didn’t scream at you or lock you outside without dinner. But as you got older, you realized why your parents didn’t do that: They needed you too much. They needed your help with the extra kids they shouldn’t have had, and the older you got, the more it started to infuriate you.
You saw evidence of it everywhere, in places it was and places it wasn’t. They didn’t wipe your memory because they cared that you were upset about your missing friend, they did it because they needed you to be quiet and helpful instead of sad. They didn’t let you choose your favorite snack or go to a birthday party once in a blue moon because it was the fair thing to do, they did it so you wouldn’t complain about all the times you weren’t allowed to. They promised they’d make it up to you every time they shorted you in favor of your siblings with quirks, hoping the apology would make you forget. By the time you were fourteen, you weren’t forgetting anymore.
Tenko’s watching you from behind the hand, but you don’t want to be watched right now. You focus on placing the bandage. Maybe if you do that, you can pretend this isn’t happening. “What happened?” Tenko asks. “With your family.”
“Nothing,” you say. Nothing like what happened to his. “They’re out there. They call me on my birthday. Every so often they ask me for money. Do you really want to talk about this?”
Tenko doesn’t follow up. On that, at least. Three of his fingers brush across your exposed upper arm and it takes every ounce of self-control you have not to jump out of your skin. “These are old, right?”
“Not as old as yours,” you say. “They aren’t recent, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“I stopped, so you should, too.” Tenko’s palm covers your upper arm for a moment, then lifts away. “It wouldn’t kill you to control your temper less, anyway. When was the last time you got really mad?”
“Three days ago. Yoshimi’s boyfriend ditched her, so I called him and lit his ass up.”
“Sure you did. I bet you never raised your voice,” Tenko says. You look up, offended. “You probably sounded like some kind of evil shrink, telling him what a piece of shit he is and how you understand that he can’t help being an asshole but it would probably be best for everybody if he took a long walk off a short ledge –”
He’s mimicking the soft, semi-conciliatory tone you use when you’re trying to de-escalate a situation, looking at you from behind the hand with a smirk on his face. You’d get mad, except it’s a pretty accurate imitation, and you like the thought that he knows you well enough to pick on you like this. “I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about getting really mad. Really losing control. When’s the last time you did that?”
You can’t remember. You shrug helplessly. Tenko heaves an exaggerated sigh. “It’s a good thing we’re playing Call of Duty next. If getting your ass kicked in a video game can’t wind you up, nothing will.”
It’s been a while since you played an actual video game. You were bad at it then, and you’re really bad at it now. Tenko makes you play a round in single-player mode to see what you’re good at and where you’re weak, and he spends the entire time laughing so hard that you’re worried he’s going to dislocate a rib or fall off the couch. It takes you way too long to hide away from the enemies onscreen long enough to ask Tenko a question. “What’s so funny? I know I’m not doing it right –”
“You’re just –” Tenko wheezes, then makes an effort to get it together. “Up here in the corner of your display is the map. The dot is where you are. And then everything in front of you is your point of view. That’s why it’s called a first-person shooter.”
“I know,” you say. “The display –”
“You control that on this side of the controller. And that’s where your trigger is, too. The other side handles motion,” Tenko says. His shoulders are twitching, like they do when he’s trying to hold in his laughter. “I’ll watch the map for you. Just go where I tell you to go.”
“Okay.” You adjust your grip on the controller and prepare to be humiliated.
Tenko directs you to move straight forward, which you do. Then you make a left turn and jump up on a crate for a better firing angle, at which point someone shoots at you. “Shoot back,” Tenko orders. You press the trigger. “Nice work. Okay, now jump off the crate and –”
You jump off the crate as requested, but then you get your buttons jumbled, and instead of running in the direction Tenko told you to run, you find yourself bumping into the wall repeatedly with your viewpoint stuck directly upwards. “Tenko –”
Tenko is howling with laughter again. The hand dislodges and falls off his face, and you see his eyes crinkling at the corners, his smile just a little too big. Some girls in your class said his smile was creepy, but you always liked it. You liked that you always knew which of his smiles were faked and which weren’t. “I’m stuck,” you say, and he laughs even harder. “What did I do?”
“If you were doing what your character is doing right now, you’d be doing this.” Tenko mimics pointing a gun straight up at the sky, and suddenly you get why he’s laughing. “You’ve been running around like this –”
No wonder you keep running into walls. Now you’re laughing, too. “You weren’t kidding,” Tenko says, shaking his head. “You really are terrible at it.”
You set the controller aside and wipe your eyes. “You sure you don’t want a different sidekick?”
“I have the sidekick I want.” Tenko glances at you, almost shyly. “We’ll need allies, though. I want you to meet them.”
Your stomach lurches. “Do you have them already?”
“One of the brokers is bringing them. He finds them through the black market.” Tenko sets the controller back down in your hands, adjusting your fingers to the right buttons. Then he unpauses the game. “Once I have them all – go right. No, your other right. Once I have them all, I want you to meet them. I need them to work together, and to stay calm instead of fighting each other. You’re good at getting people to do that. Watch out, there are – nice work.”
He’s giving you a strange look. “What?” you ask. “I didn’t get killed yet.”
“You’re better at shooting people than running around. That’s weird.” Tenko’s expression stays odd for another moment; then he grins. “Works for me, though. As long as you don’t mess with your viewpoint too much, we can play together.”
“Works for me.” You’re still going to be pretty useless, but at least you can protect Tenko’s back. That’s more than you’d be able to do in a real fight. The thought kicks off a flood of anxiety, and before you can stop yourself, you find yourself speaking out loud. “Tenko –”
He pauses the game mid-switch to co-op mode. “Yeah?”
“I don’t know if I can help you the way you need me to,” you say. He gives you a skeptical look. “Medical stuff is one thing. I’m good at that. If your allies need help with that, I’ll help them, too. But the rest of it, I’m not – planning, getting people to follow you –”
“I can do that part. But villains fight all the time. Like kids do,” Tenko says. He smiles slightly. “If you can handle me, they’ll be easy for you.”
“But I know you,” you say. “It’s different.”
“So you’ll get to know them, too.” Tenko’s confident, just like you remember him being. Once he’s decided how something will be, it’s hard to shake him. “Come on. Let’s clear this level.”
It’s an easy level, or you think it’s supposed to be. You spend most of your time running backwards, keeping one eye on the map so you don’t lose track of Tenko and the other eye out for enemies of any kind. On reflection, you do think your accuracy with shooting is a little weird. Between this level and the next one, you rack up a decent number of kills. “You’re already getting better,” Tenko says, grinning. “I bet we can beat this thing if we keep playing.”
“I’d like that,” you say – but you’re still thinking about Tenko’s semi-crazy idea that you meet a bunch of villains for crowd control. “About the allies – you trust me, but they won’t have any reason to. I’m still a civilian.”
“You’ll need a disguise,” Tenko says, which wasn’t what you were hoping he’d say. “Something that hides your face. “If any of them have a problem with you, they can take it up with me.”
You don’t know what to say to that. The idea of Tenko getting into it with other villains over you makes you feel sick. “I don’t want you to get hurt because of me. I don’t want you to get hurt at all. You’re my best friend.”
“I’m not your boss,” Tenko says, which doesn’t make any sense. Your confusion must show on your face, because Tenko elaborates. “Earlier. You said sidekicks don’t run from their bosses, but I’m not your boss. I don’t want to be your boss. I want –”
He breaks off, clearly struggling with what to say. There’s a patchy flush coming up in his cheeks, and you see his hand rise, twitch toward his neck – then fall back. “I don’t want to be your boss,” he says again, looking everywhere but into your eyes. “I want – you should –”
“Shigaraki Tomura.” Kurogiri’s voice issues from behind you, and you and Tenko both jump. “Your master wishes to speak with you. You are overdue.”
“Shit,” Tenko mutters. His grip on the controller tightens, and you lift it out of his hands before all five fingers can touch it. “Where’s – I need –”
“Here.” You pick up the hand from the floor and pass it to him, feeling a chill go down your spine as you touch it. “Go talk to him. It’s okay.”
“I’m late. It isn’t.” Tenko settles the hand back over his face. His free hand rises again, clawing at the side of his neck, and something about the image, the situation, feels uncomfortably familiar to you. “I’ll send Kurogiri to get you again soon. For another date.”
“This was a date?”
“Of course it was.” Tenko gets up, heads for the door. “Remember. Find a disguise. I’ll see you soon.”
He’s gone, and a second later, so are you – Kurogiri drops you in an alley off the street you were walking on. He lingers for a moment, and the question explodes out of you. “It was a date?”
“I told him it’s not a date unless both people know it’s a date.” Kurogiri looks vaguely uncomfortable, and his voice is in the other register – the one that sounds more like an older brother than a servant. “Next time I’ll tell him I can’t find you.”
“Don’t do that,” you say at once. Even reeling like you are now, you’re sure that you want to see Tenko again. “Just – warn me, if you can. If it’s a date or something else.”
“I can do that.” Kurogiri vanishes, but his voice lingers for a moment more. “You protect him, too.”
What does that mean? Maybe it means that Kurogiri sees you like he sees himself – a protector of Shigaraki Tomura, although if there’s anyone you’re trying to protect, it’s Shimura Tenko, your best friend. Your best friend, who’s in a lot more trouble than you thought he was.
You’re standing in the middle of an alley. You need to get moving before someone peeks in here and starts asking questions. You slide your phone out of your pocket, raise it to your ear, and lower it as you step back out into the flow of traffic on the sidewalk, like you were taking a call that just ended. Your apartment’s not far away, so you’ll get there, and then you can think about all of this. The villains – the date – the scars on Tenko’s arm that look too much like yours – the scratching that didn’t start until after the hand covered his face. The hand he calls Father.
And that’s when you realize what it reminded you of, what happened when Kurogiri told Tenko his master was waiting for him. He was himself when you spoke to him, even after he put the hand back over his face – right down to how he reacted when his master called for him. Because his reaction looked the same as his reaction to his father calling for him when the two of you were kids.
You had a bad feeling about Tenko’s master, and now it’s worse. You have a bad feeling about what your involvement with Tenko means now, because he wants you to back him up when it comes to dealing with other villains, to take the de-escalation and conflict resolution skills you learned the hard way and put them to use keeping a band of villains together under Tenko’s control. You have a bad feeling because Tenko’s told you to find a disguise, to hide your identity like the villain you aren’t. You aren’t a villain. Are you?
Maybe you aren’t a villain – yet, a voice in your head whispers, you aren’t a villain yet – but there’s something wrong with you. There must be. Because knowing all that, knowing that you’re getting drawn further into Tenko’s plans, doesn’t do a thing to dampen your excitement at the thought that he wants to go on dates with you. That he likes you. That your best friend, who you always thought you’d have developed a crush on if the two of you had gotten to grow up together, might feel the same about you as you do about him.
#shigaraki tomura x reader#tomura shigaraki x reader#shigaraki x reader#shigaraki x you#shigaraki tomura#x reader#self insert#reader insert#please hold
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Leveragetober day one: food and love (which are of course the same thing)
Eliot & Parker-focused post-canon OT3 ficlet for @leveragetober
“I’m sick of thinking about it,” Parker huffed, flopping down on the sofa with her head hanging off one end, looking at the world upside-down. “It’s too many decisions and it’s every day, three times a day and then again the next day, when does it end, when does it get easy? Never! I don’t want to think about it anymore.”
Across the room, Eliot slowly took off his apron and tossed it over the back of a chair, keeping his steps deliberately light and even as he approached. Tapping her ankle, he waited until she lifted her legs, body temporally forming an elegant L-shape with her feet in the air, and sat down on the end of the sofa, wrapping his hands around her ankles when she settled her feet back in his lap.
“You want me to think about it for you?” He broke the silence after a minute, without looking at her, hearing and feeling the deep breath she took in and let out as a weary sigh.
“No,” she dragged the word, folding her arms protectively over her chest. “I’m an adult, I should be able to, to, to — ugh!” Her feet twitched in his lap, tapping out a rhythm of frustration and shame.
“Park,” he murmured, thumb pressing into the arch of her foot, drawing her back into herself with his deliberate touch. “There’s no ‘should’. There’s only what works for you.”
“But Sophie—“
“Parker.”
“…yeah. I know.”
She sighed again, and Eliot shifted her feet in his lap, setting to giving her a proper foot rub, feeling the muscles in his own shoulders start to relax when she gave a quiet sigh then an unselfconscious hum, melting into the couch and into his touch.
No one could have been a better influence for his girl than Sophie, Eliot knew that, believed it with all his heart, but that didn’t make her a perfect role model. Trailing her own peck of mysterious trouble Sophie had been more patient with Parker from day one than any of the rest of them, and maybe it was being close to another woman for the first time in her life, Eliot couldn’t begin to speculate and doesn’t care to but along the way Parker got it into her head that there were certain things Sophie did that were absolutely right and true and the marker of successfully acting out the role of an adult. Actually, now that Eliot’s thinking about it, he wouldn’t be surprised if it was something to do with the fact that Sophie is just as much of a freak as the rest of them she only hides it better behind dozens of masks ranging from subtle to dazzling that most people don’t even see let alone know to look for them, leaving Parker to the conclusion that she could or should construct her own masks in homage to Sophie’s and that is the marker of success — not making it, but faking it.
“How about this,” Eliot heard himself say, before he’d decided to say anything at all. “You know how I am about food. About making food. How it. How I. I need to do it. It’s…”
“It’s your heart,” she said quietly, the words he still couldn’t bring himself to put into the world himself.
“Yeah. So how about if when I’m cooking for myself I make extra for you. I won’t ask you to make any decisions about it, I won’t even ask you if you like it. You can eat it in your rig up in your rafters if you want, makes no difference to me. But that way you always know you’ve got something waiting for you, you don’t have to think about what you’re in the mood for if you don’t want to, you don’t gotta think about what’s healthy or not.”
When she spoke her voice came out muffled and Eliot looked up at her face for the first time since he sat down to find that at some point while he was talking she’d lifted her hands to cover her face. “But food is supposed to be more than fuel.”
“Did I say that?” He asked, and when she nodded he reached up and curled a hand gently around her wrist, thumb stroking over her pulse point. “Thought you knew better than to listen to me by now.”
She moved her hands to peek up at him, eyebrows folded down quizzically. “But I like listening to you.”
Eliot snorted, and squeezed her wrist lightly. “All right, then listen to this. There’s no ‘should,’ there’s no ‘supposed to,’ and Sophie ain’t got a corner on the market of what it looks like to be an adult. Here in this house I count three adults who couldn’t be more different from each other or from Sophie and most days I think we do okay.”
“Most days,” Parker agreed, and turned her hand over to bring them palm to palm.
“So if you make Hardison get off the couch and work out with you every day and he makes me sit my ass on the couch and ice my damn knee at night and I make enough food that you always got something to eat even on days you don’t feel like it, maybe that’s just how we make it work.”
“Maybe that makes us lucky,” she said after a long, still silence.
“Oh yeah?” He said, keeping his voice light even as something raucous and joyful took up howling in his chest. Her face whenever she made a new connection, whenever she decided to trust him with a thought that she hadn’t tested out herself first, goddamn, he would move mountains for this woman.
“The first time I asked Sophie about love she said it was what made us feel alive. I told her I felt alive when I was jumping off a building and she said ‘maybe that’s why they call it falling in love’ but I don’t think that’s right. I don’t think it’s about falling I think it’s about catching. I don’t jump because I want to fall I jump because I know my rig or my parachute is going to catch me. And now you and Hardison, you’re my rig and my parachute. You catch me.”
“We catch each other,” Eliot said, as soon as he could trust his voice to come out steady.
“That’s nice. Right? I think it’s nice.”
“It’s really nice.”
She linked her fingers through his, and used his hold on her to leverage herself up to sitting, pulling her feet out of his lap. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yeah. Okay. Eliot, will you make me something to eat?”
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Is this hell?
Niragi Suguru x fem!reader
Highschool AU(?)
Summary: the original idea post
Word count: 3,3K
Warnings: Niragi lol (not in like haha my babygirl but literally this man is psycho please beware so), bullying, mentioning of blood and violence, two or three mentionings of y/n, it's not proofread so I apologize for any kind of mistakes
A/N: I am not condoning any of Niragi’s actions, I too think he should rot in hell and his actions are unforgivable that being said this fanfiction purpose is not to glorify etc anything about him plus it’s not meant to be in any sort a darkfic (I myself can’t read those.) btw I am also tagging some people who liked the post :))
*****
Part 1: highschool
Since Suguru Niragi could remember, he was always a loser, always weaker than anyone else. Girls laughed at him and boys bullied him and if someone could actually handle looking at him, their face only showed pity. His school years were spent alone somewhere in a corner or just far away from potential troubles. There was a possible hope in going to high school in a completely different district but even that proved useless. Niragi still looked like a prey and if there is a prey, there is also a predator. So he would become as small as he could to hide but sometimes even that wasn’t enough.
These three boys picked on him since the first week of school, like if they could smell his fear, they preyed upon him, made the boy with glasses buy them snacks or lunches from his own allowance and would get pissed off at the end of the month if he didn’t have any money left for their cigarettes. And them getting pissed ment only one thing, punishment, in reality that was just an excuse to bully him harder than on the days the three boys were bored. Oftentimes the punishments were very unoriginal, that kind a child could come up with, other times the originality was astonishing, something no one in their sane mind would be able to come up with. Maybe the boys were just that, not mentally sane, or maybe an evil devoured them the moment they were born and so they did the same to others. An eye for an eye sort of thing.
By the last year of highschool Niragi couldn’t take it anymore, over the years his attempts for finding help ended in vain, no one was willing to stop them and in the end it was as if no one knew he was bullied, as if people didn’t notice his scared eyes and bruises. But Niragi didn’t know what was coming that day.
The boys dragged him to the bridge and this time it was not only the main trio but also a few of his other classmates. All of them cheered while he became a target of their baseball practice. Maybe he did something to them today that made even those classmates of his participate, Niragi couldn’t be sure anymore. No, it didn’t matter actually, any kind of word as a reasoning now was just an excuse trying to justify the bully's behavior. The abuse was too much and he was almost on his tipping point.
“Ts, you move one more time and I will make you eat it again.” The bully swung the baseball bat again while glancing around him. “Rice with piss.” He was the type who throws their head back when laughing too much. Was making him eat it so funny?
Suguru’s nose was bleeding. He could feel it before he tasted the coppery taste in his mouth and his vision was blurry, the first hit with a ball shattering his glasses on the ground. This had to be hell, purgatory or something, there had to be some divine reason, something to justify this torture. He hated himself, of course he did and through all of this pain a quick thought flashed in his mind. Maybe if he was in their position he would do the same, bully the weak.
“Yes? Oh, I would like to report fighting, they have (school name) uniforms, please be quick.” Niragi didn’t even realize that someone else was now watching him struggle to breathe, a girl in the same highschool uniform. Her voice sounded meak, scared and as if she was on the verge of tears, but she was standing like a picture of confidence with her eyes trained on one of the bullies.
“The fuck do you think you are doing, eh?” One of the bullies started to yell, however the girl didn’t even flinch, she just calmly closed the flip phone, slipping it back into her jacket. Now that Niragi had time to fully adjust his vision, which was still very blurry, he realized who the girl was. Not only was she another student from his highschool, she was one of his classmates from the same homeroom. Y/N, that was her name, she wasn’t a prominent figure in the school, not really significant like class president or something, but she was there and she was always quietly watching. She was the type Niragi aspired to be, someone who had friends and someone who gets invited to things like karaoke or dates. Dates, she probably got a loads of confessions, in no way was she the school idol but you had to be blind to think she wasn’t pretty.
“I just reported you to the police, didn’t you hear? They are going to be here pretty soon.” Y/N was now laughing lightly and the whole group looked pissed, really pissed this time. What was she thinking, they were surely going to kill her for this. One of them ripped the baseball bat out of the grasp of the last one, ready to swing it at her.
“If I were you I wouldn’t do it.” Tight lipped smile slipped on her face, her eyes staring momentarily at him. “After all, if the police arrive and find me hurt or in a worse state… it would be just worse for all of you, wouldn’t it?” Her smile now contented many teeth, white with little yellow grinning at his abusers. Her cheeks raised, it was a genuine smile, she found this whole situation truly amusing.
By now the boys thought about the risk and decided that their little prey was not worth it, at least for now. “Whatever, bitch. Oi, boys, we are done here, let’s go for a drink.” The oldest commanded and all of them swiftly following his example started to walk away. Their departure also included some rude comments thrown at her and the last one, youngest of all of them, he was two grades below them and was very keen on becoming like them for some reason, readying punch in the air just to cease the action when the girl didn’t spare him even a glance.
She was now staring at Niragi intensely, without blinking, and then she finally opened her mouth and said. “Suguru Niragi, right?” The boy could only nod to her question. Her gaze changed direction, now at his feet staring at something on the ground. That’s when Niragi got reminded again of his blurry vision, she was looking at his glasses before her eyes once again returned to his face.
“Hey, Niragi… let’s be friends.” At that moment Niragi knew that those curious eyes actually looked at him, no pity, only interest beaming behind them.
And maybe his life was not a hell, maybe from now on it would get better.
**************
The bullying indeed got better, didn’t stop but got much more bearable with her by his side. She wasn’t by any means a sunshine person, most of the time she was silent, which made him incredibly nervous and twitchy, however, when she spoke it was always something interesting. The girl never showed interest when it came to boring things, instead it seemed that her head turned at anything slightly fascinating. It was in pure contrast with her appearance, a normal highschool girl that never got herself in trouble but always was witness to some. She really did have a knack for these kinds of situations.
So his new friend dragged him along, trouble never catching up to them out of pure luck or maybe it was like her superpower, that's what the boy always thought. After a few weeks of their friendship Niragi felt content, finally he had a light at the end of the tunnel, a safe spot for himself in the world. He didn’t yet realize that soon their paths would divide when it came to college and his sunny days could be over again. But for now he enjoyed her company, after all there was still at least 4 months before the graduation.
Part 2: bordeland
College was another new start and with the promise of keeping in touch with his now sort of, Niragi wasn’t still sure, best friend, he was ready for new experiences. The first few weeks were fine, school was fun again and it seemed that he made a few new friends along the way. He now got invited to parties and shared dinners and genuinely had a good time for such an introvert.
However, his little bubble of happiness was meant to burst on one of the shared dinners after a long day of lectures. It was one of the days packed with long seminars and Niragi was ready to relax with his classmates over some good food and a bit of beer when it happened. They were sitting in the back of the restaurant, most of them already sporting one beer in hand when another group of people walked in. Loud and obnoxious yelling followed them and Niragi swore he recognized some of the voices.
The now college student should have known better, he did know them, of course he did, they made his life miserable for what felt like an eternity. Those bullies that proved to him the awfulness of humankind. The only thing Niragi now hoped for was that they would not notice him, that they wouldn't recognize him but he hadn't changed at all. The same hair, the same kind of glasses and the same scared expression.
And then it happened, one of them turned and his gaze became trained on him, his before yelling face turned into a horrible grin. This guy loved to push young Niragi’s face into the toilet, that was his thing, he really wasn’t that original in the means of “punishment” but he was still part of the group and that defined trouble.
“NO WAY!” His voice boomed through the restaurant, stopping the conversation at the table Niragi was sitting at. Most of his fellow classmates were now staring at the guy with confused or irritated expressions.
“Guys! Look who is there, Sugura Niragi.” His grin grew with these words and his friend’s attention was now at him, staring and waiting for any kind of elaboration.
Niragi didn’t know where to look, if he looked into the restaurant, he could see what felt like thousand of eyes staring at him, if he looked around the table he would get confused looks expecting explanation and if he looked before him he would look into the eyes of one of the most hated people by him, so he stared blankly into his glass, hoping that all of this could just disappear. Maybe she could just magically appear and save him once again, more like a thousand times again actually.
“You know each othe-'' But before one of his classmates could finish the question the booming voice sounded again. “Know him? Of course. Didn’t he tell you?” The rest of the guys were now coming closer, also recognizing him. Their laugh was like tiny little needles poking him and their whispers turned his stomach. His current classmates now could hear about how pathetic he was in highschool and Niragi knew that it was back, it was there again, he felt small and stupid. Did the universe really hate him this much?
But this time Niragi had a choice, he could just leave and ignore it and so he did. He rushed out leaving the payment on someone else’s shoulders while dodging and kind of arms that tried to grab at him, keep him at the hellhole. He runned for what felt like hours, sprinting down the streets until he was sure there was no way one of them could follow him. He felt terrible and knew that sleep would not come this night to him and it truly didn’t. He layed in his bed for hours until exhaustion took him out with a sweet promise of blissful ignorance of the nightmare he again became part of.
The next day was even more painful than the night before, he had to face his classmates and so when the time finally came and he had to approach someone, he chose Ayato. Ayato was always a smiling tall guy with slightly longer hair hiding the corners of his eyes and a mole under the right corner of his lips. He was a good guy, the kind of guy who would send you notes from the lecture if you asked him. However, now he looked like an instant death in Niragi’s eyes but there was no other choice than to talk to him.
“I wanted to pay you back, you probably had to pay for me when I suddenly left last night.” He couldn’t meet Ayato’s eyes, he couldn’t see in them how pathetic he was, not again, he couldn’t take it anymore. This was his burning point and there was no coming back.
“Yeah, don’t worry about it, man.” Ayato laughed and went back to rummaging through his backpack. Did he bother him, no, this was probably just a tactic on how to not have further conversation with him. Just appear busy and that pathetic loser Niragi will leave. Did they all really view him as pathetic? Fuck. They probably did. They must have laughed at him when he left with the whole group of his old classmates, his bullies.
World really is cruel.
And this was the point when he decided to change and so over the following years his sorrow turned into anger, burning and scorching flame that alighted everything inside that was still alive and breathing, the rest of the hope. The little happy moments were not enough. For example, going to college? He fucking deserved it for all the shit he went through so he didn’t expect anything else than to get accepted into one. He also still maintained some sort of contact with Y/N, both of them got quite busy in college, however otherwise Niragi had isolated himself.
But oh, how he wished those guys that tormented him could see Niragi now, he changed, just like his hardened heart he hardened his appearance. Piercings adoring his face and tongue, silver glistering as warning signs. He looked like a danger, no more the prey look and nervous stare, he was to be feared now. And it wasn’t just his appearance, he became rough and cruel slowly becoming just like those he despised but he always justified it in his mind that it was for his own good.
And so came another punishment for his foolishness.
The gods really hate me, hm? That was his first thought at the empty streets of the city which he once found overly crowded. “Is this hell!?” His yelling echoing down the long corridors of empty sidewalks and alleys.
It must have been days since he woke up in the silent city, he didn’t know what else to do now that there was no one, so he drank and drank all the alcohol he could find. And in one of his drunken moments they found him almost passed out in one of the dirty alleys near Shibuya. At first he didn’t want to go with them, too drunk out of his mind to understand what they were telling him, but they grabbed him and… that's all he could remember, he probably passed out.
When Niragi woke up his head was pounding and his throat felt sore but all of that was swept under the rug with the realization that under him were soft white sheets instead of harsh pavement. Slowly, as he could manage without his head shooting needles in it, he sat up upon the bed, he really was in a clean room, a hotel room but any kind of thinking was stopped with the hotel room’s door opening. This uninvited guest sported a kimono and sunglasses were obscuring his eyes.
“You must be the newbie, let me welcome you properly at The Beach, the only paradise in The Borderland.” The man was grinning widely and Niragi was sure of his interior motive but who gives a damn, he was the first person he had a proper conversation with in days.
And so his career as a player for beach and handsman for Aguni began.
Working for The Beach was on most days such a great fun, but it was as if Niragi slowly forgot that this was also real and just submitted to his dark thoughts full of violence and blood. He stopped caring about consequences or what was morally right, nothing mattered in his world to him and he verified it through the actions of others. He met vile criminals and monsters in the disguises of people here and in the real world too, so what was the difference if he joined in, in this utopia of sin.
But it was the moment he was beating up some guy, he didn’t even break any rule, he just pissed Niragi with his stupid face, that he noticed them. She was there, she was also inside this horrible nightmare, staring in shock at him with hand covering her open mouth. Y/N must have recognized him, there was no way she couldn’t, if someone could recognize him, it would be her, solely her. He didn’t see her face to face since his change, they only texted and called each other via phone, she must have thought it was because he got so busy but maybe inside, he knew he didn’t want her to see what he had become. Suguru Niragi really thought that their next meeting would be different, that those same eyes would look into his with the same adoration and curiosity it once held but there was none of it.
And there was no excuse for his actions, he could see that now and even though his anger still buried the vast amount of guilt, he was a bad person, he was sure of it. And he knew it for a very long time but there was no denying it now. Another punishment from the gods staring right at him in the form of a pretty lady he had a long history with. And maybe there was no worse cruelty than this, knowing even through all this hardship he received all his life, he could have a good life if he had chosen to be a good person from the start.
Too late to change my path.
In the end the anger always wins over guilt that has to be buried or you will be buried yourself. Niragi used to strongly believe in this conviction but now he felt like a little school boy again, pitiful glances piercing right through him, however this time it was much more meaningful. Here it wasn’t just strangers, it was someone he trusted and they stared inside him with shocked expression. He wondered what she saw, probably someone filled with anger and filth covered in blood, someone she couldn’t handle to look at. It was the same over again but this time different and caused by his own actions, so fully justified. There really isn't any way to redeem himself anymore.
Tag list: @enslique @retirement-home @k-1-ll-em-all @urnotahotdad @cantthinkofauserlololol @nervousbasementtimemachine @verydownbadforchishiya @ksjo @antitoon @ninjacups @169cmy @lanasworld-96 @llynx7 @itsccc @benhardygalileo @hjyksgf @solintaire @fluffyandsquishy
#niragi x reader#alice in borderland#alice in borderland fanfiction#niragi suguru#niragi suguru x you#isa writes#niragi alice in borderland#dori sakurada
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[ID: a graphic-style banner featuring text centered on a black field. The field is at an angle, and on the borders of it are squares in yellow, green, blue, and red. The text reads: “interact-if presents: Guide To Image IDs. Tips to add good image IDs to your posts.” The section that reads "Guide To Image IDs" is written in red text, while the rest is white. /end ID]
Hi everyone! As July was Disability Pride Month, I (being QR) have volunteered to write up a post about how I write image IDs, particularly for graphics like we use in our event posts. I’ve been writing IDs like this for nearly a decade now, and want to share the tips I’ve learned over the years with the greater IF community.
ID are extremely important for those who use screen readers to navigate tumblr, and those who may otherwise have reasons they can’t see images. My hope is that others will find this helpful and will feel more confident including IDs in their IF intro posts, update posts, and maybe even their art!
This post will be getting long, so most of it will be under the cut. Before we get into it, though, here’s a brief outline of what I consider to be important when writing IDs:
Write as much detail as you feel is necessary to describe what’s important.
Write IDs in simple language.
Make the ID readable: make text from the image distinctive, and don’t hide it under a cut.
With that in mind, let’s get started!
Why Write IDs?
You may be wondering why image descriptions (or IDs) are important enough to warrant a full post about them. For me, at least, it feels natural to try to make IF content as accessible as possible.
IFs are, largely, a text-based medium, where the most important information in the work is conveyed through the text. This makes them accessible to people who are blind and use screen readers or text-to-speech functions, whose bandwidth might have trouble with images or videos, or who prefer a text-based approach to online content for any other reason. It therefore makes sense, in my opinion, to approach online content about IFs with that text-based nature in mind. Writing IDs for your images, screenshots, and graphics is a great way to go about this.
Of course, accessibility isn’t just relevant to IF content. IDs make images more accessible to all those people mentioned above, which means that even if tumblr wasn’t designed with disabled people in mind, there’s a way to include more people in the content of this website.
Ready to give it a try?
Basic Image Descriptions
What I try to keep in mind when writing an ID is that you’re trying to convey the important parts of an image to a reader. Give descriptions of as many details about the banner as you can, with a general description of what to expect at the beginning and any important text at the end for maximum impact.
To illustrate this, I’ll use a banner that could have been used at the top of this post.
[ID: a banner-style graphic featuring white text in a futuristic font, centered against a dark photo of the night sky with a great expanse of far-away stars. The text reads, in all-caps: “interact-if presents: Guide to Image IDs.” White horizontal lines frame the text on the above and below; in the middle of the bottom line is a white 8-pointed star. Under the line and the star is the subtitle, in the same font: “Tips to add good image IDs to your posts.” /end ID]
(Btw, all banners used in this post were made by fellow mod Manon, our resident Canva wizard!)
In this case, I start with what exactly the image is -- a banner-style graphic -- then describe the vibes -- white futuristic font, and a great expanse of stars. The lines surrounding the text aren’t crucial information, but they do help situate the reader in terms of where everything is located.
I’ll cover each of the three points I made above the cut, one by one:
1. Write as much detail as you feel is necessary to describe what’s important.
The text, obviously, is important in a banner like this, since it’s meant to convey information! On top of that, it was more important that I give the impression of a starry sky as the background than, say, to detail where exactly certain stars were shining especially brightly. Also, since the text is written in all caps, I’ve included that but haven’t written it in all-caps, since some screen readers will read all-caps text as individual letters.
2. Write IDs in simple language:
This will become more apparent in other examples, I feel, since there isn’t a lot of technical language to use in something like this. Still, I didn’t use the specific name of the font, instead describing it as a futuristic font to get the point across.
3. Make the ID readable: make text from the image distinctive, and don’t hide it under a cut:
This tip is why I bolded the text as it is in the description, to set it apart from the description of the image the same way that it’s apart from the image in the banner itself.
Note that these aren’t be-all end-all rules for writing IDs, these are just tips I use when writing mine. Not everyone will appreciate the text being in bold or italics, and different people have different opinions of what’s important to include. That being said, I find these three tips can make an ID less overwhelming to write.
Let’s try a more intricate banner as another example. (Thank you again Manon!)
[ID: a graphic-style banner featuring text on a stylized scroll that's been unrolled and laid out, as if to display the text. A simple map, a stylized bust of a man's head, an intricate compass rose with an elaborate arrow pointing north, and a round globe are positioned around the text on the scroll. The scroll and other icons are all in shades of beige and brown, and a line of text over the top and under the bottom of the scroll are in beige as well; the text on the scroll itself, as well as the background, are red, and a thin purple border surrounds the red background. All together, the text reads: "Interact-IF presents: Guide to Image IDs. Tips to add good image IDs to your posts". The text that reads “Image IDs” is written in a font to resemble cursive. /end ID]
This graphic is a little more involved, but the description doesn’t have to cover every detail of where everything is! For the three tips again:
1. Write as much detail as you feel is necessary to describe what’s important.
Words like “stylized”, “simple”, “intricate”, and even “realistic” help to convey the tone of a particular image without delving into every detail of it, which could overwhelm a reader. Also, if a particular detail stands out -- the cursive font of the text, for example -- feel free to point it out separately to draw attention to it.
2. Write IDs in simple language:
There are different parts of a scroll with different names, and I was going to try to describe the scroll itself before remembering that not everyone knows what different parts of a scroll are called. I sure don’t! I looked them up at first! Instead, I described the scroll as being rolled out, which gets the point across without getting into technical jargon.
3. Make the ID readable: make text from the image distinctive, and don’t hide it under a cut:
The text is once again bolded in this description to help it stand out. To tie into the first tip again, trying to go into detail about each of the icons would have made the description unwieldy and hard to read.
Why do I suggest not hiding IDs under a cut, you might ask? Think of it this way: if someone is using a screen reader to interpret all images, and every image description was hidden behind another link, it would be frustrating and exhausting to worth through them all. Plus, if you change your URL or the Read More link is broken in some other way, then the post becomes completely inaccessible. To this end, I put my IDs directly under the banner I’m describing.
Basic GIF descriptions
Writing an ID for a GIF can be tricky compared to writing one for a still image, but the basics are the same. To illustrate this, Manon’s also made us a couple of GIFs!
[ID: a graphic-style looping gif banner featuring a photo of a field of tall poppy flowers in green grass. The photo has been tinted so that the colours are paler, almost pastel. White text with red shadows in the center of the image reads: “Interact-IF presents: Guide to Image IDs. Tips to add good IDs to your posts.” Behind the text, a blot of orangey-red appears like someone applying a paint brush to a surface, then swishes in a circle, creating a red circle to help the text stand out against the photo. /end ID]
It should be mentioned in the beginning of the description that the image itself is a GIF.
Instead of copying and pasting what I’ve already said, I’ll just touch on the three points I mentioned earlier briefly:
The saturation of the colours can be really important to help describe the vibes of a piece: the flowers, for example, are not a vivid red, and neither are the stems vividly green, which makes the banner feel like a peaceful painting (at least imo).
An ID writer can decide for themselves if the fact that the flowers are specifically poppies is important or not, but I decided it wasn’t. Also, a “blot” of orangey-red isn’t a technical term, but it gets the point across of what the animation looks like.
And, of course, the text from the graphic is written in bold, with the animation described afterward because it’s directly behind the text and mostly affects it, as opposed to affecting the rest of the image.
What if everything in a GIF is moving? Describe it all, as best you can! Here’s one final example, courtesy of Manon once again:
[ID: a banner-style looping gif graphic featuring blue light against a black background. A blue mote of light travels slowly in a triangular pattern, leaving a long trail of light behind. In front of it, two light blue boxes quickly swipe across the screen and leave behind large glowing white all-caps text that reads: “interact-if presents: Guide To Image IDs.” Underneath the text, the outline of a white box appears, and all-caps text is typed in to read: “Tips to add good image IDs to your posts.” After a couple seconds, the light blue boxes swipe across the screen again to remove the large text, the white box fades away, and the text within it is removed letter by letter. /end ID]
Writing an ID for a GIF with a lot of animation can seem intimidating, but it can help to break it down. As with the IDs written above, I described the background first, which provides a sort of backdrop for the rest of the banner. From there, describing how the text appears (and disappears, in this case) is fairly straight-forward.
What about ALT Text?
Recently tumblr has been working on making their ALT text function more... well, functional. And that’s a great advancement! There are screen readers can pick up on the description in the ALT, but the description won’t appear in the post itself unless you click on the ALT button on the bottom left corner of an image that has such text.
One of the problems with this function, though, is that not everyone who needs an image described uses a screen reader. If that’s the case, they may not even see the ALT button, since it’s very easy to see through it on a post as it isn’t trying to obscure the image. Screen readers that don’t use audio (an instead present text on the screen in Braille, for example) also won’t pick up on the alt text.
Another problem, and one that I often run into, is that there is no way to see ALT text on the tumblr mobile app -- the only way I’ll know that one is even there is if OP says so in their tags, and that information is less helpful than seeing the ID itself.
I’ll include a link to a post by @blindbeta that details how and when ALT text can be helpful: here. To explain their post in short, though, one thing they recommend is to include both ALT text and an ID in the post, with the ALT text being a simpler description of what the image or GIF contains, and a more detailed description in the post itself. If you’d prefer to only use one or the other, they recommend just writing an ID in the post itself.
Resources
If you’re new to writing IDs, or you otherwise want more guidance when writing them, don’t worry! I have a few resources to offer. (Each bullet point is a separate link leading to what is being described).
An article on WebAIM.org about designing a website with screen reader accessibility in mind, including a description of how screen readers read content.
A post by tumblr user envythepalmtree with a set-by-step guide to adding image descriptions to tumblr posts.
A post by tumblr user combeferre, reblogged by tumblr user accessibleaesthetics, about how the purpose of the image is more important than putting every little detail in an ID.
A post by tumblr user blindbeta with several links to helpful posts about image IDs, as well as posts about writing blind characters.
A tag on my IF and OC blog, ice-knife, where I reblog posts about image IDs and other related accessibility features.
And one final resource, which is more of a tip than anything: keep in mind that a simple image description is better than none at all, when it comes to accessibility. Any of the above descriptions could be written in just a sentence or two while leaving out all but the most important details. Don’t worry about how “good” your ID is, and focus on getting them written in the first place!
Thanks for reading, and good luck writing your IDs!
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Finding Solace in Uniform
A hoseok X reader fanfiction
Summer Madness 6/10 Chapter 1 of 3 or 4. Hoseok has been struggling with adjusting to military life. Foreign soldier Y/N takes pity on the poor guy and tries to help him out. Slow burn, strangers to lover, military life
You watched as the pathetic-looking recruit pushed his food around his plate for the hundredth time. His food had turned into mush more than substance with all the mixing he had done. Someone across from you was talking but none of it was going in. You were more concerned about the look in this man's eyes. He looked haunted, his tired eyes fixated on the table as his leg vibrated under the table.
Others in the room seemed to be avoiding him and you couldn't quite work out why. He seemed friendly, offering a smile to those around him, and he had a few friends from his trainee days that you saw him around the base with on occasion, but he seemed to be receding in on himself.
"Would you stop looking at him, you're going to get in trouble." Your bunkmate, Alyssa, scolded.
"What? Why?" You asked.
"What do you mean why? You know we aren't supposed to treat the idols that end up here any differently." She says as if it's obvious.
You glance back at the man, more subtle this time. You would never have put money on him being an idol. Sure he is handsome, but he doesn't have the same spark the other idols you've met seem to have had.
"Is he from a group? Or a solo artist?" You ask, interest piqued.
Alyssa just rolls her eyes, shaking her head in disbelief. You notice a few others at your table have also begun to resemble goldfish as they tune into your conversation.
"I'm not sure I want to humour you with an answer to that." Alyssa scoffs. "But I will if only to keep you out of trouble. That's Jung Hoseok, or, J-Hope of BTS, the biggest K-pop group on the planet, also known as the group that makes up most of the South Korean economy. It's a travesty you've ended up posted here without knowing that"
"Right, okay, so big deal then. Got it."
You give her a somewhat sarcastic thumbs up, it seems as though she might be being a tad dramatic. Of course, you've heard of BTS, you lived on an Army base, not under a rock, you just never bothered looking that deep into them. Then the conversation begins to shift into who is and isn't on duty for the next shift, and you keep eating your meal, checking out 'J-Hope' from the corner of your eye every so often.
____________
Three days later and your lunch times align again. You haven't been able to get the defeated look in his eyes out of your brain since. You collect your tray and glance between where Alyssa is sitting waving at you, and where Hoseok is sitting, the space across from him free.
You decide to just go for it, plopping yourself down across from the idol.
He seems briefly surprised by your appearance, but he doesn't mention it. He just smiles politely and shuffles a little uncomfortably before turning his attention back to his meal.
"Hello, I'm Y/N." You introduce yourself.
You can see a fair few people watching you curiously. It seems ridiculous, you know you aren't the first person to have talked to him, and you certainly wouldn't be the last. But some people on the base were very wary of mixing foreigners and Korean personnel. For a foreign woman to approach an idol would seem ludicrous to some. But you couldn't watch him clearly declining for the next year of his mandatory service.
He swallows a bite of food and eyes you up and down. Now it's your turn to shuffle uncomfortably. Normally you are a very confident person, but it was starting to feel like maybe you should've left well enough alone.
"I'm Hoseok." He finally responds.
He places his chopsticks down and extends his hand towards you to shake. You take it gladly and he seems to relax a little.
"How are you finding military life?" You ask, getting straight to the point.
"It's different, very different...I guess it's just very new to me" He responds.
"You get used to the restrictions after a few months, you've just gotta roll with it. Eventually, everything becomes second nature." You shrug.
You stab your chopstick into a piece of meat you'd originally been chasing around the tray. He stifles a laugh at your ineptness with chopsticks and it eases you into a friendly silence for a while as you eat. It doesn't take you long to both finish your meals and part ways.
The next day he joins you at your table when he walks in. You're all a little surprised when he walks up, having to jab Alyssa in the ribs to get her to close her mouth. You make room for him next to you and again you eat in a comfortable silence. However, this time when he finishes his meal he turns to you to speak.
"How long have you been on base?"
"I've been here for around two years now I think." You answer, mentally totalling the months.
"Do you like it?"
"Most of the time yeah." You shrug.
His eyebrows knit together like he is thinking hard about something but then without really saying much else he excuses himself and returns to his duty.
Your friends all give you questioning looks when he is out of sight but you're just as confused as they are by the entire interaction. You tidy up your cutlery and make your own way back to your post to finish out the day, thankful for the upcoming weekend. You had planned a hotel weekend to get some time to yourself outside of the bunks.
Of course, the day dragged on as you thought more and more about the free time coming your way. Others asked about your plans as you asked about theirs out of politeness, You all knew you were all doing as little as possible this weekend after a long stint on duty. The most you were likely to do was roll out of bed to go to KBBQ and then roll back again.
Your stuff is already packed and waiting for you hidden under your bunk to maintain the uniformity of your bed.
You sign out of the barracks at 18:00 hours and breath a sigh of release as your kakao taxi pulls up to whisk you away to your wonderful solitude.
_________
You lie within the fluffy white sheets, losing yourself between the pillows as you flip through channels aimlessly. You scroll through your social media channels and connect with family for a little while. Eventually, your stomach groans in protest, and you relent to having to drag yourself out of the soft bed at nearly midnight to run and fetch food from the corner store.
For a couple of minutes, you search for your headphones in the bottom of your backpack, strewing all of the items you packed across the chair and desk. You told yourself you'd tidy up when you came back, but even then you knew it was a lie. Triumphantly, you find the earbuds tucked away in a bottom corner and finally head outside.
Luckily the corner store is less than a five-minute walk down the road. There was a small shop in the hotel itself but they only seemed to have snacks and you fancied something more filling.
You purchase ramen, ttokbokei, and a drink from the bored-looking kid behind the register. And set your things down on the bar across the window. Your headphones are blaring music in your ears and you dance around heating up your ramen and pouring your drink over ice. Eventually, you turn back around to go and sit down to eat your meal, only to find someone had set up shop next to you.
You slide awkwardly into your seat, hoping the stranger hadn't watched you lipsync into your straw. In your defense it was well after midnight, you should've been alone. You glance at the man, trying to gauge whether or not he had seen you, only to lock eyes with Hoseok.
He has a baseball cap pulled low over his face, and a black face mask hangs around his chin - A staple look for an idol in disguise.
"Hello Y/N." He says, smiling cheerfully. "I saw you walk in, I hope I'm not bothering you."
You slide your earphones out of your ears and put them away.
"I didn't think I'd see anyone from the base out here." You comment.
You had chosen a place you knew people rarely visited on their weekends for the best chance at maximum privacy. However, you find yourself not minding Hoseok's sudden appearance. Perhaps you get the chance to satiate the bizarre curiosity the man inspired in you.
"I like this side of town... it's quiet." He shrugs.
"Yeah, me too."
You offer him some of your rice cake and he passes you part of the bread snack he had purchased. Once more you find yourselves eating together in peaceful camaraderie.
When the food is gone neither of you moves to leave. So you decide to try and get a better read on the man
"Is base life getting any easier?"
He thinks about it for a moment before he responds.
"I'm not sure I'm ever going to adjust fully. It's vastly different to idol life. I guess I miss performing." it feels like he cuts himself off.
It's not surprising that he might not want to go into detail with a near stranger. You can't even begin to empathise with the things he is going through, but you do find yourself wanting to help him somehow.
"It must be quite a big switch from stadium tours to military barracks... That's got to be hard regime change"
"If anything the training for military life was a lot less strenuous." He laughs "At least I knew what to expect each day, and the creative energy is minimal."
You're about to press a little further when he suddenly jumps up like the chair bit him.
"Oh shi..." He groans.
He pulls the mask over his nose and grabs your hand, yanking you into the aisles of the minimart. You look at him like he has gone insane just as the bell on the door chimes. You glance over the stacks to see a woman with a camera in her hands searching around the premises. Catching on to the fact Hoseok was clearly hoping to avoid being caught in public you slip your hand away from his and walk towards the woman.
You 'accidentally' block her way around the store a few times, allowing Hoseok the time to escape through the front door. You can see him opening the door carefully out of the corner of your eye, only to be betrayed by the bell as he rushes out. You successfully counter the girl's movements twice more until she gets exasperated and just moves you out of the way. You hope it's enough that Hoseok has managed to disappear.
The girl walks outside of the corner store and glances all around, clearly grumbling to herself when she comes up empty.
You smile to yourself, a little bit proud to have helped him evade whoever that was.
You tidy up the mess the pair of you had left in your haste and then set about walking back to the hotel for a good night's rest.
You don't get very far before you are pulled into an alleyway. Immediately your hands fly up to attack whoever had grabbed you, just to be met once again with Hoseok (Admittedly this time he is less smiley and more terrified of the way your fists are raised). He backs away with his hands up and you lower yours sheepishly.
"Sorry... I think she was Dispatch." He explains
"They are paparazzi right?"
"Yeah, they are. They are always everywhere." He shakes his head frustrated. "That's something I really don't miss when I'm on base... Did you see where she went?"
"She headed down the street across from the store."
"Wonderful." He sighs sarcastically. "That's where I parked."
"Ah, not good. Do you have any other way to get to where you are staying?"
"No, no I do not."
"Guess you're coming with me then" You shrug.
You begin to lead the way out of the alley, looking both ways to ensure the photographer has in fact gone. You get a couple of metres down the street before you realise Hoseok is not following.
You retrace your steps to find him standing in the same spot looking a little shellshocked.
"Are you planning to stay here all night?" You raise an eyebrow at him.
He stammers a little, looking more flustered than you thought possible. It is then it occurs to you that you just invited a near stranger into your bedroom in the middle of the night. Something that is odd in your own country, let alone in Korea.
"To hide from the photographer... My hotel is literally around the corner. Nothing nefarious, I promise." You hold your hands up in surrender.
"Right," He clears his throat. "Of course, I knew that."
He fiddles with his mask, not so subtly checking the heat in the tips of his ears. Luckily for him, it's too dark for you to see how pink they've become.
This time he follows you, hanging back a little as you check around for anyone else hiding nearby. By the time you reach the lobby of the hotel, it seems he has become more comfortable with hanging out alone with you. You slide him a key as subtly as possible so you don't have to walk up together and risk being caught, then you hang back and purchase some snacks from the little store in the back of the lobby.
He is standing awkwardly in the middle of the room waiting for you when you enter.
"Did you not want to make yourself comfy?"
"The only option is the bed..." He points out.
You glance at the desk chair that is covered in all the stuff you'd pulled out of your backpack earlier. You scan the visible items, suddenly exceedingly glad your change of underwear was buried beneath somewhere.
"Then sit on the bed... It's big enough for us both to sit with your modesty completely intact if that's what you are worried about." You joke, hoping it'll lighten the weird heavy atmosphere that had descended upon you both.
Thankfully, he seemed fine with the idea. He slid off his shoes and jumped onto the less rumpled-looking side of the bed. You throw the snacks towards him and join him on the opposite side.
"Wanna watch TV?" You ask handing him the remote.
He flicks to some superhero movie and opens a bag of snacks offering the first one to you. As the movie drones on and you both get a little bored he starts to ask you questions.
You tell him all about your experience in the military so far: how it had been difficult to uproot your life, especially being older than most when they first leave home, how you miss your family, how it was one of the most eye-opening and wonderful experiences of your life (Even if it was also exceptionally shit at times.)
You asked him questions in return and he really started to open up.
He talked about his bandmates and how he missed them. How sleeping in the bunks was actually weirdly comfortable to him, reminding him of early idoldom. He also shared some insecurities, like wondering if his fame would wait for him and what it means if he doesn't exactly miss all of the aspects of it. Turns out he is quite a private person and being without cameras for the first time in ten years had really given him time to breathe.
Turns out that talking to an almost complete stranger in the early hours of the morning had both of you opening up more than you probably should've done. Still, you could tell he was holding back, a youth spent not knowing who to trust would probably do that to a person. His eyes were still filled with that lost expression, but he looked a little lighter for having talked about it.
It's four AM by the time either of you suggests checking to see if the reporters are gone. Though neither of you actually moves to do so. He watches the credits roll on a movie you guys definitely didn't see a single scene of. You watch him.
His eyebrows knit together, the way you've learnt they have when he is considering his options.
"I don't think they will have gone." He admits.
"We could see if there is another room available here?" You suggest.
He nods and picks up the phone from the bedside table. It's a brief conversation spoken in Korean a little too quickly for you to fully grasp but the consensus seems to be there's no room until after 11 am.
Hoseok sighs defeated and begins to get up.
"Guess I'll just have to risk it."
"Or you could stay? Isn't it going to be more suspicious to see you randomly leaving a hotel at this time in the morning than it would to leave at a reasonable hour?" You reason.
He grumbles and sits back down, running his hands down his face.
"I don't want to interrupt your chance for alone time... And the fact that I'm already here is bad enough."
"But you're already here so you can't make it worse." you point out.
He smirks a little at that, knowing you're right.
"Fine, I'll take the floor."
He picks up a pillow and dumps it unceremoniously at the foot of the bed.
"Don't be stupid that can't be comfy..." You say
You take one of the other pillows you don't need and lay it down in the centre of the large bed.
"Look now there's a wall, might as well be two twin beds." You smile smugly.
He shakes his head but he is smiling and doesn't fight you. He grabs the other pillow back, adds it to yours in the middle and lies down on the bed.
"Good night Hobi." You say testing the nickname.
"Good night Y/N-ah" He says turning out the light.
Ask Box - Please send me thirsty/funny/angsty bts thoughts
Masterlist
Summer Madness Masterlist
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Polycule with Obey Me characters
Part 2/?
Asmodeus X Solomon X MC
Aka the hottest people in Devildom, y’all giving folks whiplash as y’all walk by
Honestly just some besties who realized y’all had more in-depth feelings for each other
Though the studying sessions get quite intimate especially when Solomon is teaching you how to use your magic to enhance Asmodeus abilities
There isn’t a moment that you all are apart for long, unless you and Solomon go back to the human realm without Asmodeus
However be ready to have your phone absolutely blasted by texts and calls by Asmodeus wanting to see you and Solomon, constantly having to group face time
The moments you all do spend together is bliss and fun, either staying home and relaxing together or going out
Asmodeus does make you and Solomon join him in doing skincare, either while watching movies or sitting in his room chatting as he stylize both of your hair and paint your nails
Solomon often suggests cooking you two a romantic dinner, which you two refuse suggesting to eat out
Most of the dates being planned by Asmodeus and of course he has to make sure all of you are wearing matching outfits or staying within the color scheme
Though there are times where individually you all have your low moments or sometimes together you all experience a down moment
Asmodeus prepares somethings for self care
You get the snacks and popcorn ready
Solomon chooses the movie you all watch or what board game
All of you cuddling together, switching position or just simply holding hands with each other
Sometimes you all talk it out, making sure everyone feels heard, give advice, get comforted or whatever else they need to help them through it
Just imagining all the mini trips and vacations you all take together and how Asmodeus posts all the pictures and videos on social media with a caption that makes everyone in the three worlds jealous
Probably the most attentive and healthiest relationship, especially since it isn’t built on wanting to be intimate constantly or being lustful since Asmodeus ability doesn’t work on either Solomon or you
Though I imagine there would be some trouble on paradise
perhaps whenever Solomon and you have to leave to the human world and Asmodeus being upset and trying to get you two to stay a little longer by refusing to talk to either of you until you both comfort him
Maybe Solomon and you were too busy studying up on spells and potions to pay any mind to Asmodeus
Somehow Solomon’s cooking mysteriously disappeared
You lost your favorite shirt/jacket to find out Solomon and Asmodeus took them
Someone borrowed one of Solomon’s potions
Whatever it is, you all manage to solve it or pardon each other from it
Though of course I have to add angst because where’s the fun in a happy ending
Laying in bed, your body too tired to move as you’re bundled up in blankets and cushioned, you look up at the handsome faces of your partners. Asmodeus soothingly humming as he paints your nails, your hands wrinkled and fragile at your old age though Asmodeus doesn’t mind as he gently blows on them. Solomon glancing up from his book and smiling at you two.
You can’t help but smile, yet something deep within you can’t stand to look at either of them. They still look the same as the first day you met them.
They’re both still youthful looking and radiant while you’re too weak to move in your old age. Could they really love you even like this? They treat you as their partner and love you as such but do they still think of you as the person you used to be?
Their faces haven’t changed a bit, but yours has. You’re wrinkled and old. Where has your life gone?
Did you really think you could spend all eternity with them?
Your breathing quickens as tears well up in your eyes from panic and fear.
You’re old, yet they still look the same. They will continue living on as you die. Will they remember you in another hundred years?
Asmodeus and Solomon attempt to calm you down but you only hear a faint ringing as your breathing goes erratic and you clutch your pounding heart.
#obey me shall we date#obey me#obey me writing#obey me poly#obey me asmodeus#obey me solomon#obey me mc#om! asmodeus#om! solomon#shall we date asmodeus#shall we date solomon#solomon x mc#solomon x asmodeus#asmodeus x mc#asmodeus x solomon#gender neutral mc#shall we date obey me
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(Post-fencing)
Colette made it a point to try to see everyone within her friend group at least once a week if her schedule allowed it. She especially made sure to show up to Fiann's place often enough to make sure she felt welcome, and to check in on her to ascertain that she was doing okay after the Merric incident.
She'd bought an SUV for her adventures in Germany; she knew having more than two seats would have been crucial with a friend group as large as hers. It was a new vehicle, but the same color as before, a bright pearlescent orange.
She knew how Fiann operated; asking Fiann if she can come over gave her too much of an opportunity to turn down much-needed social interaction. Instead, Colette would drive to her house and text her,
[text] I'm outside
and she'd wait for Fiann's response. If Fiann really didn't want to see her, Colette would respect her decision, but Colette wouldn't let Fiann become a full-on hermit if she could help it.
That's what I get for not sticking to the plan and staying lowkey.
And how could she? Merric and lowkey could not coexist; wherever he was, there went half the eyes in town. When they would argue, his people would give Fíann dirty looks after, like she had done or said something wrong - even when Merric was the one doing the screaming and throwing things. And although this fuck-up had ended, with it, so had Ríane's life. He truly does drag people to hell, huh. Even without being directly involved in shit.
Fíann had believed that danger died along with Merric. That no more of it would follow. A mistake, and one that had turned out to be fatal for Ríane, too. Given they were both strong enough to fight off a bunch of navy officers, Fíann had thought they would be out of trouble once Merric was out of the game. And oh, how wrong she had been, how bloody wrong. Merric and a lot of his supporters were gone now - but they had managed to make people fear them.
And where there was fear, there, too, was hatred. Fíann's parents had large enough reputation (despite not being very famous) to keep them safe. And they had been around for quite a while, too; they were known, and they were trusted. To an extent, the mermaid wasn't alone, either - those who were not against her were with her. Those that sided with Merric (about half the city, like Fíann knew, but in truth less) however hated everyone involved with Fíann.
There were plenty of lesser reasons to do so along with the lies the rich brat had fed to people. Some folks were suspicious of redheads - and Fíann had a temper she was known for to boot, although she was mostly known for her science work and for music. Others were suspicious of "the other kind of mermaids", again thanks to Merric. And because they all lived in a part of the city with a tight-knit community, the hate spread from Fíann to Ríane.
I got her fucking killed just for showing her face around me.
It made sense. In her enemies' eyes, it was probably a tit for tat situation. You killed our precious boy, we'll hurt you back just as bad. And none of that was the point. The point had been to show to people that Merric Murchadh was actually an asshole who thought he could manipulate his way through life, and leave broken trust and scarred people behind. But of course. What did she expect from them? To understand? They'd never got it, even before, well, Merric.
...She'd felt numb for a few days. No one got to see that, though - no one. Not Colette, not Aurora, not Hella, and not even Rónán, Ula and Dylan, the three other people Fíann could claim were her best friends. Well... a part of her had wanted Rónán to be something more than that. But Merric had happened instead. Fíann had eaten and showered and read some poetry and played some music as usual, and she had plans to go hang out with her friends. All is well.
Not.
The vibration from her phone (she often set it on silent so it wouldn't distract her if she was busy working at home) snapped her out of her thoughts. Let me guess, company. It was not a nice thing to do, but she had ignored almost everyone else's texts, save for three. Hella. Rónán. And now Colette. Nevermind, they all take the gold, I don't care who reached out first. The effort counts. Word had likely spread, though, as Fíann received cupcakes via mail (somehow uncrushed), a poetry book, and a bunch of funny memes from Kamael's brothers ("you don't gotta reply but check this out, hope you enjoy it").
And there was Colette now. Right outside. If Rónán hadn't been sick, he would have probably been there as well. Dammit, what now...
[text] Unless you just wanna sit and be quiet,
[text] I can't offer anything.
Aside from charismatic, Fíann was also a good liar - but she never lied to her friends. Even when the truth could be shitty.
@redemptioninchaos
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since your exams are done, that's my go to for a new au idea that's completely not thought through and just came to me while reading cam's musician!mickey tiktok au.
- socially anxious / agoraphobic mickey. he works from home because of it. some sort of accountant, maybe? he's good with numbers. he has trouble sleeping and mostly works at night.
- ian's an emt, but four out of seven nights a week he volunteers at a night radio station / (self) help hotline. one of his coworkers introduced him. people can either call or interact with the host via their online chat (for that, you need to make an account, but, obviously, you can choose whatever name you wanna be called). it's a lot of talking, but they play chill music in between, too.
- mandy sent mickey the link one day (she got it from ian). she told him to get help often enough, but he shrugged her off. he rolls his eyes at the message, still gives it a try. when he chimes in for the first time, ian is on shift. mickey likes his voice. the radio stays on every night - or at least whenever ian's voice comes in through mickey's headphone / the speakers.
- one day, ian stops being up for his usual sessions for almost three weeks. when he's back the people on call and in chat welcome him back. it takes every ounce of mickey to make an account - he thinks he's slick when he fills out the "name" as "fuck-u" - and tell ian it's nice to hear him again.
- from then on, mickey starts to interact more. when ian's shift starts and when it ends, sometimes when there's a lull in callers / people bothering him with who fucked who in the office and what situation came of it. ian makes it his mission to find out mickey's name. his juvenile joy about it makes mickey's heart skip a beat every time he throws in a new name.
- sometimes there's not much interaction going on and ian starts up idle conversation. asking those he recognises as long timers about their kids or their partners or how that promotion is coming along. it's sweet. always calm. always cheering the people on. sometimes he laughs and it's mickey's favourite sound.
- one day, there's not much going on, maybe five people on chat, there's a lot of time passing between callers. ian doesn't seem on his usual high self, either. with a racing heart and sweaty palms, mickey starts up a conversation. for a few hours, it's almost only them interacting. by the end of the night, when it's, basically, only the two of them left there's, »mickey.« / "what?" / »my name.« because i need ian to sigh and have an audible smile in his voice when he says, "good night, mickey," shortly after.
- unknowingly, they live in the same building complex.
no clue where i was going with this, actually, i just needed to get it out.
Oh my god oh my god oh my goddddd
NOSHo
I love this holy shit! This is the perfect idea!!
Of course it’s not enough for Ian to be an EMT and physically save people all day long, he wants to help people mentally too because it could be just as fucking important.
Mickey only making an account to make sure Ian knows he’s happy to hear his voice again? 🥹🥹🥹🥹
Of course it’s only them in the chat by the end of it!
May Mickey becomes a regular phone caller too? And people like his voice (though some lady complains that he curses too much) but people comment how well their voices fit together!
Also maybe the record these sessions and post them on Spotify/ YouTube or something so when Ian is gone Mickey just replays those every night to be able to sleep and he knows some bits by heart now?
#how do we call this au?#late night radio au#idk#radio host Ian#emt ian#gallavich au#shameless au#gallavich#shameless#ian x mickey#creepkinginc#au shenanigans with nosho#support hot line
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luck be a (leading) lady | part 3.
Summary: Y/N has always been a background character. That’s just life for some folks isn’t it? But what if she’s determined to not just be another member in the ensemble? What if someone helps her step into the spotlight in her own special way?
Warnings for the Series: a teeny bit of angst but mainly fluff
Pairing: ricky bowen x black!reader
Word Count: 3.4k
A/N: I am not even sorry for starting a third series. I just finished season three of hsmtms and I’m obsessed. Also spoiler now, EJ and Gina are staying as an endgame couple. I’m gonna try to plant those seeds early if I can.
Previous Part | (Series Masterlist)
“These are amazing!” Ricky complimented your sister on the steak tacos.
Your sister thanked him and immediately started to ask him all sorts of questions. Of course your family was excited. You had clung to your sister and her friends until Kiana came around. And after that, Kiana was the only person they ever saw come over. They wanted to know everything about your new “friend”. Ricky didn’t mind the questions. He actually found comfort in being distracted and then found more comfort in some of your parents’ advice on how to deal with his own parents’ divorcing.
“Hey, if it’s not too much trouble, I actually think I’m gonna head home instead of sleeping over. I think I should talk with them.”
“Okay, let’s go.”
“Hmm?”
“You came in my car.”
“Oh, no, you’re already home. I can just skateboard, your house is actually really close. I’m literally at the end of the street.”
You raised your eyebrows in surprise. If you knew that one of your classmates had lived on your street then you would have gone with Kiana all those times she wanted to sell her Girl Scout cookies in your neighborhood. Maybe you would have gotten to know someone quicker. You walked Ricky to the door and then stood outside as he skated away just to make sure that he actually did make it to his house. The boy gave you a small wave before heading into his own home.
A grin spread on your face when you went to your locker during morning break at school the next day. Ricky, who had been talking to Big Red whose locker was two down from yours, stuck a hand up to greet you. You quickly held your hand up and lowered it before going back to taking out and putting up books in your locker. You could hear Ricky groan at whatever Big Red must have suggested before you had walked up.
“I’m just saying it’s your chance.”
“Dude, the last thing I should do is ask Nini to homecoming on the day of the dance. She’s hardcore friend-zoned me.”
“She’s single and ready to mingle.”
“It’s a bad idea, trust me.”
If it wasn’t for the fact that you loved dressing up, you could have forgotten it was homecoming. You didn’t have a date because of course you didn’t. Kiana would have come but she had practice and you told her that her team and potential scholarships were more important than one little dance. She made you promise to post all the pictures on Instagram. Laughing to yourself, you agreed to post for your four rabid followers to like and comment.
You were sat at table ten with all the other theatre kids when you got to the dance. You were positive they organized that on purpose but it didn’t matter. Sitting quietly amongst people you kind of knew was better than strangers. The big shocker was Gina and EJ coming to the dance together. Everyone got the Instagram notification at the same time, turning your heads to see that they were in fact taking pictures in the photo booth. Ricky threw back his cup of punch.
“Unbelievable, he steals my girlfriend and eight seconds after their breakup he’s already playing the field.”
“Dude,” Big Red said. “That’s what you should be doing, too.”
“Are you actually defending him?”
“No, I’m just saying. You made that pact with your dad to put yourself out there again.”
“That was so he’d stop sleeping on the couch, it’s been a week.”
“Well, it was still a good idea and now is the best time to do it. It’s a dance! Dance with someone.”
Ricky just shook his head. He didn’t vibe with the idea at all. You all tried not to look suspicious as Gina and EJ arrived at the table. It was still kind of a surprise— the two of them being together. Maybe they weren’t together but Gina was holding his arm the entire time and EJ didn’t seem to mind. Those were for sure signs of dating, right? That was confirmed when Gina asked EJ to get them some punch, making sure to add the word babe at the end of the request. Ricky immediately slid into EJ’s empty chair.
“Advice, I probably wouldn’t go with a guy like him. Not exactly good news.”
“You’re not really one to give relationship advice, are you? If I want your opinion, I’ll ask.”
“Well, I’m giving it anyway because I thought you were classier than this. But maybe you’re just what people say you are.”
Everyone at the table got silent.
“And that is?”
Big Red tried to stop Ricky but he kept going. “A little too ambitious for your own good.”
You watched Gina grit her teeth before standing up to go find EJ. You were pretty sure that was a lie as she started to make her way more to the gym doors than the punch table.
“That was mean, Ricky,” you said as you stood up to try and go find the girl. “And you all might think that but you could try to understand her better.”
“G-Gina, Gina wait!” You chased after her.
She turned around with a vengeance. “What?! What do any of you want?”
You stopped in your tracks. Confrontation and dealing with it wasn’t a strong suit of yours. Your feet stuttered backwards a little bit. You didn’t exactly know what you were going to do after finding Gina but you didn’t expect her to raise her voice. You heard your own voice waiver as you tried to say something. A hand landed on your shoulder and a somewhat deep voice came from behind you.
“Don’t be mad at her, I was the one who said something stupid in the first place. I’m actually really sorry about what I said, Gina. It wasn’t cool at all.”
“You were just saying what everyone thinks.”
“Not me,” you piped up.
Gina gave you a smile.
“It still wasn’t cool for me to say that. And it’s not cool for us to think that either.”
“Well, thanks. Seriously.”
“Where are you going?”
“I think I’ve had enough of the dance for tonight.”
“Do you need someone to drop you home? I actually have my car tonight… Do you want to come too, Y/N? Since we’re neighbors?”
You nodded and moved with the other two. While you and Ricky might have been neighbors, Gina lived a bit away. You sat in the back so she could give directions as Ricky drove. Gina began telling you guys all about her home life. It was obvious why theatre was so important to her. With the way she had to move around a lot because of her mom’s job, it was the only place she could even begin to make temporary friends in such a short amount of time. She actually laughed at your joke about how she was doing better than you. Gina turned around in the front seat after Ricky pulled into her driveway.
“You just need an extrovert to adopt you.”
“That’s exactly what my friend Kiana said to me.”
“Then it’s settled. We’re besties now… you can tag along too, Richard.”
He held a hand to his chest in fake offense while you and Gina laughed as she got out of the car. Slipping into the passenger’s seat, you and Ricky waited for the young girl to get inside before pulling out the driveway. Ricky looked at you from the corner of his eye. You were focused on the world outside, looking straight ahead.
“I think I’ll take Gina up on tagging along.”
“Hmm?”
“We’re besties now. I mean you’re behind Big Red but it’s a pretty close second.”
“Okay, besties,” you said more to yourself than to him while getting more comfortable in your seat.
Ricky took the moment that the car was stopped at a red light to fully look at your face. You were smiling as you kept looking outside. You were happy to have not just one but two friends. Ricky thought you were pretty cool. He saw the way you interacted with your family at dinner. Once you got past the social shyness, the person you were was a rather pleasant one.
He also found himself liking your silence and calmness. He had never meant to blurt out to you that his parents were getting a divorce. But you just seemed like no one else would know until he was ready for them to know. Ricky loved Big Red but he always ended up saying something on accident. And not only was he no longer close with Nini but everything Nini knew, Kourtney knew. It was partly selfish when Ricky told you because he knew you had no one to tell. But he was finding himself glad he made the decision after just observing you a little more.
“You know the McDonald’s by our houses is now open twenty-four seven. Want to get some and then go to the park?”
“Sure, I already texted my parents that you were going to drop me back home anyway.”
The park late at night wasn’t a regular occurrence for you. But it wasn’t a bad time— it was actually made funnier by the fact that you and Ricky were in fancy dance attire. You two sat on the swings eating and talking. Well, Ricky did most of the talking. He was starting to realize that you didn’t like to speak unless you really had something to say. It wasn’t just about being introverted and shy.
“So I didn’t get into the skating compet— did you just dip your fries in that milkshake?”
“Yes?”
Ricky grabbed your cup from you and looked down at it before meeting your eyes again. “In a vanilla milkshake? That’s basically admitting you’re an alien.”
“Because of vanilla?”
“Everyone knows you dip your fries in the strawberry flavor.” He did just that to emphasize his point.
Your face scrunched up. “I think you’re the alien. That’s so gross.”
“Nuh uh, try it… Come on, try it.”
He stabbed a french fry towards you a couple times until you reluctantly ate it. The boy waited in anticipation that ended in laughter when it became clear that you absolutely hated the taste. You shook your head in a very animated fashion.
“Ricky, your taste buds are broken. You’ve got to be the only one that likes that.”
“Big Red agrees.”
“Okay, taste buds are definitely broken,” you said before shivering.
“Are you cold?” Ricky asked while taking off his suit jacket and placing it around you.
“But won’t you be cold now?”
“Eh, I’ve got long sleeves,” he said as he sat back down on the other swing. “So, what do you like to do? I mean aside from this whole musical thing.”
“I kind of just do this musical thing and plays and improv shows but those always scare me. I also do puppet shows sometimes when Larry gets sick.”
“We have improv shows?”
“Not at school. I’m in a company outside. The Saltwater Company at the Fine Arts Museum, I’m in the Orca Troupe.”
Both of Ricky’s eyebrows raised up. “So this is basically your life.”
He listened as you agreed with him and went on to explain more. You were always doing shows. It was the fall musical at school then the winter play and the annual nutcracker production. Then the improv show that brings in the new year. Then back to school for the Spring musical. And back to the The Saltwater Company for their Spring musical, the late spring play, the Shakespeare in the park and then finally ending it all with a summer musical at Camp Shallow Lake. Of course, the occasional puppet show was in there because for some reason kids like you and you sort of became Larry’s automatic understudy.
“Wow. That’s serious dedication. That’s really cool actually.”
“Thanks. Oh! I like making coffee and raising butterflies.”
“You can do that?”
“Yeah, especially monarchs. They’re endangered so it actually helps up their numbers. You raise the caterpillars and then when they become butterflies, they fly away to populate other places. The monarchs tend to flock to Mexico.”
“Do any ever stay?”
“A couple of them do each time for a few weeks or so.”
“You ever name them?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe… Oh, you gotta tell me.”
“My most recent group? Steve, Natasha, Bruce, Ton—”
“The Avengers?”
“I was really into the movies at the time.”
You gently pushed at Ricky’s knees after he looked like he was going to laugh. After a few more conversations that were prompted by him asking questions, you guys finished your food and made your way back to the car. You could see why Ricky was pretty well-liked by everyone at school. He was easy to talk to and always seemed to try and be engaged with whoever he was talking with. You could almost feel like he had been friends with you for years. The car pulled up right in front of your house.
“Thanks for the ride and the food.”
“No problem. See you at rehearsal on Monday.”
“Pro tip, it’s costume day so only wear tight nude or black underwear. Trust me. You’ll want an undershirt too.”
“Noted.” Ricky waited for you to close your front door before going the very short distance to his own home.
You were surprised to hear your doorbell ring so early in the morning. Quickly finishing up brushing your teeth, you headed downstairs still in your pajamas with a clay mask over your nose to go answer the door. Your sister had gone back to New York for work and your parents always left early to head to their offices so it just left you. Opening the door, you blinked at seeing your down-the-street neighbor.
“Ricky?”
“Hi, I totally meant to get your phone number yesterday. Somehow no one has it but anyway, we’re neighbors so I figured we could carpool.”
“Okay… um, there’s still an hour and a half before school starts.”
“I wasn’t sure when you left for school. You know Nini used to get there at exactly seven ten every morning.”
“Wow. Well we aren’t leaving till seven twenty… do you want breakfast?”
Ricky stepped inside so you could close the door. He sat at the kitchen island and watched you go to a very fancy looking machine. That’s right, you did mention the other day that you liked to make coffee. He didn’t know it was like legit. You pulled out three jars from the cabinet above the fancy machine.
“Light, medium, or dark roast?”
“I’m not really a coffee drinker, whatever’s good.”
“I love a newbie. Hot or cold drink?”
“Hot.”
“One warm cappuccino coming up.”
Ricky stood up from his seat after you grabbed something from the fridge. “You know I’m a professional pancake master. I can do that.”
“Are you sure?”
You handed over the pancake mix. Ricky got to work at the stove while you kept going with the coffees. You set the drinks on the table before stating that you’d be back after you finished getting ready for school. Coming back down, you saw a nice stack of pancakes on a plate and the skillet already put in the dishwasher. Ricky gave you a smile.
“Told you I was a pro.”
The two of you finished eating and headed for school. The twenty minute drive consisted of you helping Ricky run all his lines and playing all the songs from the musical. He was starting to enjoy this whole musical thing more and more. It had only started as a way to get Nini back but he was really finding friends and family amongst the cast. While you guys didn’t have any classes together, Ricky did wave every time you passed each other in the hallway or walked by classrooms. You ended up eating lunch with him, Big Red, and Gina.
“So I was thinking we could get our nails done before the show,” Gina said.
“That sounds great.”
“Oh, no offense, Big Red, this was kind of a me and Y/N thing. Girls’ day.”
“What if Ricky and I just happen to be there.”
“Well played. Anyway, Y/N?”
You agreed right away. Besides, everyone knew that while not needed it helped one get more in character if you did your nails the way that they would. Gina was happy to have actually made a friend. East High felt different than all her other schools and she was really wanting to stay. Even though Ricky was out of line when he said what he did at the dance, the two of them sincerely made up. Gina liked sitting with you, him, and Big Red. Your little group of four was definitely a weird one but you guys were enjoying it all the same.
You were enjoying it even more when Gina joined in on everyone making fun of Ricky’s wig at rehearsal. Sure he didn’t have straight hair like Troy but the wig’s current state was absolutely horrendous. Ricky rolled his eyes at all the teasing but even he ended up laughing at the ugly hairpiece. You all were eager to change out of the costumes and get back to rehearsal in the drama room.
“Where’s Ms. Jenn?” Nini asked.
“Coming, coming. Her car broke down so she had to take it to the mechanic,” Carlos said quickly.
“How’d she get it there if it broke down?”
“Let’s just get started.”
The rest of the cast gave each other looks. Something was definitely up. Ms. Jenn never missed a practice. You were actually starting to believe that she lived in her office. Nini moved to stand where Carlos said. Her Gabriella solo was supposed to be worked and then the show was practically over.
“Um, Carlos, why am I dancing with four boys?”
“Because as the ballad builds, you’re going to be walking through a forest of boys.”
“What does that even mean?” Nini looked at the rest of the cast and all the girls nodded in assurance that you guys were also confused.
“Gabriella’s heart has just been shattered by Troy and now she’s remembering everything about him.”
“Ew, what? Troy just broke my heart by selling me out to his teammates.”
Ashlyn nodded. “She’s kind of got a point. He is kind of irredeemable at this point until he shows up for the musical. A Troy forest is probably the last thing anyone would want.”
“She could cut down the forest,” Natalie, the stage manager, suggested.
Kourtney raised her hand. “Or be surrounded by a forest of her loving sisters.”
You all snapped your fingers at that idea. Ricky chimed in.
“Is it better if she sings an acoustic version of the ballad… or not.”
“Absolutely not, just start the ballad!”
“Woah, Carlos, it’s not that big a deal. We were just suggesting stuff. We can always just ask Ms. Jenn when she gets back.”
“She might’ve been fired!” Carlos blurted out before covering his mouth.
Everyone stood up from the floor. “What?!”
“They’re saying she lied on her resume application and there’s a school board meeting tomorrow to talk about.”
“Is this about not being a featured dancer in any of the High School Musicals?” you asked.
“You knew?”
“I’ve had the cheerleader dance in What time is it memorized since it came out. The blonde girl looks a lot like her but the credits say a totally different name. Jenn is short for Jennifer not Jenelle.”
“And you never said anything?”
“Don’t all actors lie? I once said I was five ten so I’d be considered for an audition.”
“Really?” Ricky turned to you. “That’s such a bad lie.”
“I got the part.”
“Impressive.”
Carlos clapped his hands. “Um, hello, Ms. Jenn getting fired?”
“Right, sorry.”
“What are we supposed to do about it?”
Natalie stood up. “We don’t have a show without a teacher. Guess we’re done, see you guys later.”
You and some of the others looked around in shock and confusion as almost the entire cast left the room. Even Nini and EJ ended up walking away. Carlos gave you a look before running out the room to try and chase after some of the cast. You sat back down in a chair.
Ricky sighed. “There’s got to be a way to save her job.”
“I’m sure we’ll figure it out. But can we not think about that right now?”
“Sure… You want to hear my acoustic song idea for the ballad?”
“Absolutely.”
Ricky went to take his guitar out of the case.
(part 4)
PERMANENT TAGLIST:
@venomsvl @peaches-n-sunscreen @summerellaz @supernaturallover2002 @sambucky8 @9daykrisr @thebitchinleo @23victoria @scarlets-widow @pagetpagetpagetpaget @lovexnatasha @awesomebooklover17 @1234-angelika @imatrisk @blackreaderatrisk @princess-jules47 @alexloveskili @a-marie-a @siriuslysirius1107
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[Deaged WWX and JC, feat. cuckji (w.i.p)]
ChengXian | Mo Dao Zu Shi
17-07-2021
[#xiancheng, deaged + cuckji I think?]
What if on some random night hunt, both wwx and jc get deaged to somewhere probably around the CR studies.
It is seriously troubling for everyone, especially the boy who still have their adult bodies. jc can tell this core isn't his. It being stronger was indeed a bit worrying when he wasn't explained what happened, but he somehow also could tell it /wasn't his/.
wwx on the other side saw his reflection in sandu and was shocked when he couldn't recognise himself but also felt much weaker than what he remembered "of the day before".
It takes a lot of calming down from the juniors and attempts at explaining who they are today (leaving the trauma on the side for now).
The thing is, they are still in the middle of solving some problems and the two "young" cultivators are more than happy to help despite being so troubled ("I trust we can fix it later" wwx said as jc rolled his eyes at his lack of care).
And this is how the juniors see for the first time what the duo was like before everything was shattered. They are so close to one another, fighting rather well despite the balance now being messed up (they somehow still manage to balance it well enough).
Back to the inn, everyone is surprised by how jc acts (even jl, who has only known jiujiu post-I-lost-everything-but-you). This is such a contrast from the fierce and severs looking sect leader they know (even tho the quartet has learned to know he can be nice and loving too).
wwx isn't 100% out of character, although he might be a bit less drunk than usual and a whole lot flirty with jc (which does make the juniors a bit unsure of what is happening.) of course, the ymj sect was immediately warned of what happened, so no one would be surprised of seeing their dear sect leader like this.
of course, lwj is also warned of the situation (as if they could let hgj in the dark about his husband). So while they all have that fun at the inn, you have ymj SIC and lwj on their way to them to make sure their respective reason of worries is alright.
meanwhile, the juniors are still stuck to deal with a wwx who is somehow more mischievous than before and a jc who is actually ready to /follow him/ in these ideas.
It is a strange evening for the juniors than to deal with these men who they look up to but are now basically around their age. But as no one has reached them yet for help, they decide that staying at the inn would be better. After all, it is close to where everything happened and they actually have yet to fully deal with what has been causing problems to this village.
They were going to take three rooms (thankfully to jl money, the juniors could share the biggest room here), but wwx asked why three when he and jc can share one. It takes a bit of arguing, only for jl to give in because he cannot argue against jiujiu telling him it would be stupid to spend on a room that isn't even needed.
So they now have two rooms and the juniors are a bit nervous about it.
What if they suddenly get back to normal in the middle of the night? Would they be alright in the same room?
"But don't you think senior way and sect leader jiang are strangely... very close to one another?" oyz ends up asking after a while.
Sure, they all had heard about how close the two had been in the past, but they felt like people had forgotten to tell them about how they seemed to flirt together?! This isn't right, especially since now, wwx is married to hgj!!
little did they know that wwx and jc had actually been pining for /years/ in the past.
it was Jiang "I am not enough he can find better" Cheng and Wei "I know jc doesn't see me as a servant but I still cannot be his for this reason" Ying being an absolute idiot. They had experienced together, mostly because they trusted each other in trying those, hiding behind it only being experiments and everyone does that yes, it wasn't because they were in love with each other.
These are the same idiots who most likely still had romantic love for each other, but had too much baggage at this point to go on with it.
But now you have them away from anything that could have been a cause of worries and a reminder of why they "couldn't". Sure, in their mind, it was only yesterday that yzy would have wiped wwx at the thought of his sleeping with her son, or that jfm was always putting wwx first.
But they also understood that now, no one would do such a thing. Now they would probably be side by side (and the role was probably reversed in the public eyes).
Now they were away and could a bit more easily indulge. especially in an inn.
They were happy to finally be in their room after checking out. Despite technically being the youngest of the group now, the juniors were still looking up for their opinions and also making sure they were alright. the duo was more than happy to finally be alone.
the moment they were in, wwx slapped a silencing talisman on the door, turning to jc with a grin, starting to tease him again about how he has been acting since earlier with the kids.
it ends up with them playfully arguing until jc finally pushes wwx to the bed and pins him down on it. It surprises them a bit all the ease it took jc to do it, after all, to them it wasn't so long ago that they were to the same strength, both physically and in cultivation. wwx laugh at this, since he was usually the one to pin jc down on a bed "A-cheng has gotten so strong" he praised with a grin.
jc shut him up with a kiss, wwx more than happy to indulge, pulling him closer.
It is a bit weird, since this is jc older body, while wwx simply did not have his at all. Yet it was as if they didn't care for any of it, as long as it was them it would always be alright (plus jc would lie if he said this body wasn't attractive too, even if differently).
(🌸NSFW-ISH to come)
hands soon start to roam over unfamiliar skin, slowly taking robes away so they can have direct access to the skin. fingers run over scares for which they do not know the history (and honestly they don't want to know right now).
After a while wwx ends up flipping them over, grinning when he is finally atop jc, kissing along his neck down his chest (giving some love to those harsh scars on his chest, feeling like he has an idea where they come from, yet he pushes it far away).
wwx in this body isn't as strong as jc, yet he lets him take over, letting wwx do as he wishes, more than happy that they can finally have this moment for them, knowing he will have all the time he wants to do whatever he wants with wwx too.
the night goes on like this, wwx taking all he wants and gladly letting jc take all he wants too.
To say the least, they didn't sleep much that night (which these older bodies do not seem to agree with).
when they meet again with the juniors, the group of young
(🌸 end)
man tries not to stare in disbelief and disapproval at the mark they may or may not have left visible on each other's neck (they might have gone a bit overboard with the knowledge of no one here to scold them). the lan juniors are a bit conflicted because they do not want for hgj to be destroyed by this (but lsz can easily see how happy this makes senior wei).
jl is in a way worried this will only end up hurting his jiujiu /again/. it is good to see him so happy, but what will it be like when they get back to normal? Will he be alone again?
and on the side oyz look about to go crazy over this new development.
it is so easy to catch on for the juniors, so of course, once they join the ymj SIC and lwj who are having tea downstairs at the inn while waiting for them, of course, they would notice it too (especially lwj, because he /knows/ he's not the one who put those mark here).
They know that both men had been deaged, but neither would have actually expected for something like this to happen. Sure, wwx and jc had a history of being really close, but none of them would have expected it to turn out like this. How could lwj have missed it in their youth?
it doesn't take long before the ymj SIC comes up to his sect leader, politely saluting him while presenting himself (he knows jc must have no idea who he is).
jc is a bit surprised by the action, still not used to the idea he was indeed a sect leader now (but also he had no memory of this man, had he been newer to LP?).
wwx give the man a glance, a bit unsure why /he/ wasn't the sic by jc sides (the juniors did tell them some of the history, but it never told him why he wasn't by jc sides anymore). then they looked at lwj who had approached wwx so suddenly, actually making him back off a little bit, not expecting for the man to come up to him so suddenly.
lwj clearly looks hurt for a moment, hand retracting as his eyes lingered on wwx neck and a couple of exposed marks. he looks displeased for a moment, yet no comments come and he goes back to his usual unexpressive face.
This does trouble wwx, looking back at the juniors who are greeting hgj politely. they have to explain again what happened the day before, saying they didn't have too much time to find out what happened since they had more pressing matters that they still hadn't fully taken care of yet.
"We are enough today that we can split, can't we?" jc asked. They were now 8, which included 2 that were actually older and more experimented now that they were both deaged.
"We could keep investigating here while you two go back to where everything happened" ljy suggested.
Every juniors agreed, not interested to be stuck in the weird and awkward situation that would happen once jc and wwx would go back to being close while lwj couldn't really do anything because this wasn't really the wwx he married (from what he understood, this wwx
was from a time when they barely even knew each other, he couldn't exactly expect wwx to accept so easily that they are husband now, doesn't stop from hurting when he sees what he sees).
[poll to see what the continuation should be]
Original
#tweet archive#mdzs#mo dao zu shi#changxian#jiang cheng#wei wuxian#lan wangji#deaged wei wuxian#deaged jiang cheng#cuckji#unfinished
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Main Story
a short little story for the empires superpowers au! a little note before the fic: bc of life stuff i probably won't be following a post schedule anymore, so the strictly-every-tuesday will no longer exist. posting will likely be random (i do prefer tuesdays though) and not every week.
cw: flashbacks, references to past abuse
this piece takes place about 3 months after the end of poisoned rats.
~
They usually leave doors open around the house these days, after discovering that being in a closed room can be quite the vicious trigger for Jimmy. Which is why Scott finds it strange that their bedroom door is closed.
Elle, he thinks absently, before pushing the door open.
Maybe he pushes it open a bit roughly. The door handle does knock against the wall, after all. So when Jimmy, lying on the bed reading, hears the door open, he rolls off the bed and drops to his knees, head bowed and hands hanging loosely in front of him.
And Scott feels sick, because he hates triggering his boyfriend.
“Jimmy,” he says, trying his best to keep his voice from shaking. He slowly lowers himself to the floor, places down his mug of tea beside him. “Jimmy, dear, can you hear me?”
Jimmy nods tightly, flexes his fingers, but doesn’t move. Scott closes his eyes, takes a calming breath. Jimmy’s not usually dangerous when he gets like this, but it’s nerve-wracking for different reasons. The idea that one day, Scott will trigger him and Jimmy will be completely thrown back, all his progress undone? Scott will never shake that fear, as irrational as it is.
For every two steps forward you take a step back, he reminds himself. It’s something his therapist had told him when he was younger, and something Jimmy hears frequently from the same therapist. This isn’t necessarily even a step back, just a minor bump in the road. This is by far not the worst result of a trigger.
“Can you breathe with me?” he asks, keeping his distance. When Jimmy doesn’t respond, he continues, “Take a deep breath, okay? In, two, three, four, out, two, three, four. Again.” He repeats the breathing exercise until Jimmy’s shoulders loosen, until he shifts to sit cross-legged instead of kneeling.
“Still want breathing counts, or need something else?” he murmurs, and Jimmy looks up with red-rimmed, watery eyes.
“Can—um, can you hold my hand?” he croaks, and Scott slowly slides across the room and holds out his hand for Jimmy to take. Jimmy does, hand barely gripping Scott’s fingers. Scott keeps his breathing slow and relaxed, hoping that Jimmy will continue to follow. He does, and eventually Jimmy scoots up into his lap and leans his head against Scott’s chest. There they sit, Scott leaning up against the bed, Jimmy leaning up against him.
“‘M tired,” Jimmy slurs, and Scott chuckles lightly.
“I can imagine, honey. Did you have a flashback?”
Jimmy nods sleepily against him. “Yeah. Not too bad. Jus’ some people grabbing me from my cell.”
Scott’s heart aches at the words, just like it always does when Jimmy brings up his captivity. He can’t imagine living that long in a tiny cell, the only faces to see vicious guards and a brainwashing captor. He’s not sure how Jimmy survived.
He’s insanely glad that he did.
“Love you,” Jimmy mumbles, reaching up with a clumsy hand to pat Scott’s cheek. Scott grins despite the sober mood, the panic in his chest finally starting to dissipate. Jimmy’s okay.
“Would you like to sleep now and talk later, or talk first?”
In moments after flashbacks, Jimmy has trouble making choices for himself out of nothing. They’ve arranged that Scott will give options and Jimmy has to choose out of them—still granting him autonomy, but making it just that little bit easier for him. Scott tries to limit it to two, any more can be overwhelming.
“Hm. Can we maybe talk a little, then sleep?”
“Of course.” Scott stretches a bit, helps Jimmy stand and sit on the bed. It sinks down a little under their combined weight, one of the blankets slipping. Scott pays it no mind but to shove it back toward the middle of the bed.
Jimmy kicks at the carpet a bit, smiles at Scott. Scott smiles back, but nudges him with his shoulder. “Do you want to talk about the flashback, or do you want to talk about what triggered it?”
The smile fades quickly. “The trigger, I guess.” He looks unsure, so Scott smiles encouragingly. “Right. I know we usually leave the doors open, but sometimes I . . . I miss it, I guess. The—the isolation. The cell was—nobody really hurt me in there. It was like a reprieve. So I just felt really exposed today and needed to be closed off.”
Scott chews on that for a minute. “I think I understand. You needed to know that you were in a place where you wouldn't be hurt.”
Jimmy nods. “Something like that. And then—it’s not your fault, not at all, but when you opened the door it was like they were here to drag me out of my safe place . . . like the reprieve was over. . . .”
Scott hugs Jimmy a little closer when he shudders, pressing a kiss into his hair. Jimmy hums, nuzzles into his chest. “I’m okay now,” he says quietly. “Tired. It’s been a rough day.”
“I’m sorry.”
“‘S not your fault.”
“I’m still sorry.”
Jimmy looks like he wants to argue it, but instead he just closes his eyes and leans more of his weight against Scott. “What time is it?” he asks.
“Time for bed,” Scott tells him, easing him down onto the bed and standing, before pulling a blanket over him. “I’ll make dinner while you nap, okay? Don’t worry about a thing.”
“Mkay. Love you.”
Scott can’t help but smile as he dims the lights, picks up his mug from the doorway. “I love you, too. Door closed or open?”
“Closed.”
#empires superpowers au#esh au#empires smp#flower husbands#esmp#jimmy solidarity#scott smajor#mas writes#short ik it's going in the extras fic on ao3#under a cut more for ease of scrolling than content warnings#this one is much softer than the last one#ur honor. they love each other.#and i love them#um that's all#lmk what you think!#love you guys
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Why Not Me?
At last: the LQR raises LJY fic from my WIP Wednesdays has a name and proper chapters. My baby has been AO3 legitimized lol (the title is a link to it on AO3).
This whole idea, by the way, was sparked by this post by @korpikorppi about how Lan Qiren and Lan Jingyi seem to be really comfortable/familiar with each other during the Second Siege of the Burial Mounds, so I took that and ran with it while also shamelessly committing to my “Jingyi’s un-Lan-like behavior is actually at least partially because of ye olde ADHD because I say so” agenda.
-/-
“You.”
Jingyi stumbles to a guilty halt. Lan-xiansheng hadn’t called him by name, but he didn’t have to for Jingyi to know he’s the one being addressed. After all, the other children are all behaving exactly as expected as they walk from their classroom to the dining hall -- only Jingyi can’t resist bouncing on the balls of his feet and swinging his arms as he walks. They just had to sit for so long today! His limbs are tingly and restless and he needs to get the feeling out before he has to sit and be quiet for lunch, but he’s not allowed to wander somewhere more secluded to do it.
Which just means that he’ll get in trouble for it.
Again.
He decides to save Lan-xiansheng the trouble of trying to recall his name. Instead, he simply ducks his head and approaches him much more sedately. Once in front of one of the three most intimidating people in the Cloud Recesses, Jingyi dips into a bow and keeps his head down, eyes lowered.
“The way you were walking --“
“Is unacceptable,” Jingyi interrupts before he can stop himself and he winces, though he manages not to break his bow to clap his hands over his mouth. It won’t turn back time to 5 seconds ago before he’d interrupted anyway, so there’s no point.
“Do not interrupt,” Lan-xiansheng reprimands as expected, though he doesn’t sound any sterner than when he’d begun. Jingyi nods and dips a little lower in his bow briefly. He really doesn’t mean to be bad, but no matter what he says it always ends up the same. There’s no use trying to defend himself anymore.
“Yes, Lan-xiansheng.”
“Do not cause further disruptions.”
Jingyi hesitates but nods again. At least he’s not getting a punishment this time -- his last one had been for a few different things and it had taken forever to get all the copying and handstand-ing out of the way. He straightens up again in time to see Lan-xiansheng wave him away and he turns quickly, eager to go get something to eat -- and immediately smashes face-first into someone’s knees.
“Ow!” he yelps and rubs ruefully at his nose, his face blanching when he catches sight of the boy accompanying whoever he’d run into. It’s Lan Yuan, which means --
“Ha..Hanguang-Jun,” Jingyi barely manages to stammer. Hanguang-Jun came out of seclusion a few years ago now, but he still barely ever interacts with the rest of the Sect (at least as far as Jingyi can tell). His son is nice, but Jingyi feels ugly things that he know he shouldn’t whenever he sees the boy, and so it’s with the twin guilt of having run into Hanguang-Jun and for not liking Lan Yuan, Hanguang-Jun’s pride and joy, that Jingyi hurries to bow again.
“Move carefully,” Hanguang-Jun instructs, his voice deep and slow. Jingyi nods in a rush and is finally allowed to make his escape from what is now two of the three most intimidating people in Cloud Recesses.
Jingyi walks slowly to the dining hall, scuffing his heels all the way. He knows that it’s not fair of him to not like Lan Yuan. And an even tinier, even secreter part of him doesn’t like Hanguang-Jun either. Or Lan-xiansheng. Or Zewu-Jun. He respects them, of course he respects them! And he knows he shouldn’t feel this way, which is why he hasn’t said a word of it to anyone. But any run-in with any of them always puts a sour taste in his mouth.
Jingyi sits down with his rice and starts eating glum little bites. He usually can’t get the food in his mouth fast enough, cramming his cheeks full of rice and vegetables until it feels like they’ll split open. He’s always reprimanded for it, though never actually punished since he never eats more than the proscribed amount. Today he eats like he’s supposed to, and he pouts down at his rice feeling not very like himself at all.
The thing is, Jingyi knows that he’s related to them. He’s a Lan too - a clan one, with the cloud ribbon and everything - but he doesn’t get to have a family. When he was little, he used to cry for his parents and the aunties in the children’s house would tell him that they’ll be back soon, just sleep Yi-er, your family will come back for you.
Only they didn’t, because the aunties said one day that they were actually gone forever in the war that took a lot of kids’ parents. And Jingyi had cried and cried, wanting them so badly it hurt all the way down to his fingertips and his toes. The aunties would try to comfort him, but then they left and new aunties came in, and they didn’t know him at all and he just became another kid in the house.
And then the other kids started leaving. The sect was getting bigger again, and people were able to take in kids that weren’t theirs and give them a home and a new family, but no one ever came for Jingyi. And then one day he heard the aunties chatting amongst themselves that Hanguang-Jun had left the Cloud Recesses completely and come back with a son. He claimed the boy for his own, but the aunties thought with the way the boy was so sick that he’d been a war orphan that Hanguang-Jun wanted. Well Jingyi was a war orphan too, but Hanguang-Jun hadn’t wanted him. He’d gone all the way to Somewhere Else to find a son he wanted more.
It just doesn’t feel fair sometimes to be a Lan but not a Lan. He’s not the only kid in the children’s home, of course, but the others are all children who were sent here to live by their parents so they can become disciples. Sometimes their parents are even allowed to come and see them, and they can send letters every season. Sometimes Jingyi wonders if he’s maybe the loneliest kid in all of Cloud Recesses. Maybe the whole world.
Jingyi finishes his first bowl of rice and doesn’t reach for a second, his belly too knotted up and full of his sad mood to eat any more.
Every time he sees them he’s reminded that they don’t want him. They have to know he exists, even if they don’t know his name - he wears the ribbon, after all, and he’s in all the right classes for his age. Don’t they care? And Lan Yuan never leaves Hanguang-Jun’s side, which means he gets to be around his dad all the time! Jingyi wants that! He wants someone who will hug him and let him run around the house and play with him and take care of him - just him!
He’s never allowed to do that in the children’s home. The aunties tut over him and ask him what they should do with him and they give him extra chores to keep him out from under their feet while they take care of the others. They tell him he’s a lot to handle and he needs to be better behaved if he wants to be allowed to become a cultivator. Jingyi wonders sometimes if that’s why his family doesn’t want to take him away from the children’s home -- he’s too much, and at least there he’s someone else’s problem.
Jingyi’s mood follows him for the rest of the week like a big cloud over his head that he can’t get rid of. It wouldn’t be so bad if he didn’t have to see Hanguang-Jun and Zewu-Jun all over the place, but for some reason he sees at least one of them every day as he walks to and from class or his chores or the dining hall. Every time he sees them he has a foolish little flash of hope that they’re out and about looking for him, but they never are and each time it feels like a fresh rejection.
He skips class.
He skips class all week long the next week to go hide in the woods, near enough to hear the bells and the occasional hushed chatter of disciples on the other side of the trees but far enough away that no one can find him perching in branches or sitting on soft patches of moss.
It takes ten whole days for someone to find him and tell him he’s in trouble and to report to Lan-xiansheng. Even though he knows it’s to be punished, it almost feels like a reward. If they won’t notice him on their own, it seems he can make them notice him if he acts badly enough. He doesn’t want to be bad, and actually he wasn’t even trying to be, but if doing things to get in trouble will get him noticed then maybe it’s worth it.
“Your teacher informed me you have not been attending class,” Lan-xiansheng remarks once Jingyi has knelt in front of him across a table stacked with essays from the older classes. Jingyi dares a glance up at his stern gaze and immediately falters, dropping his eyes back down to stare at his fists on his knees instead as he shakes his head. “Where have you been instead?”
“The woods,” Jingyi manages to reply, still addressing his own lap. “There’s a nice clearing off the path to the sword grounds.”
“What makes this clearing better than attending your classes?”
Jingyi shuffles uncomfortably and immediately reprimands himself for fidgeting, the voice in his head a strange mixture of the sternest auntie and his teacher.
“I don’t know.” It comes out easily, almost desperately, and Jingyi can’t decide if it’s a lie or not. He doesn’t know why he didn’t want to go to class, but the thought of going made him sadder than the thought of sitting by himself in the woods so he’d just…done that instead. But he already knows from experience that that isn’t the sort of explanation anyone wants to hear when they ask things like this, so “I don’t know” is safer. They can’t be mad at him for something he can’t explain, right?
“Perhaps you will think of the reason while you do handstands until the evening meal.”
Dinner?! It’s only just after breakfast now! Jingyi’s head snaps up and a protest forms on the tip of his tongue; he quickly bites it back along with the sudden frustrated burning in his eyes to nod instead.
“Yes Lan-xiansheng,” Jingyi replies with effort. He was wrong -- this hurts worse than being ignored. Not worth it at all.
And yet he can’t seem to stop. He serves his punishment and lasts a few days before he acts out again and is once again delivered to Lan-xiansheng for punishment. Sometimes he does chores around Cloud Recesses, sometimes he does handstands, sometimes he copies, sometimes he copies while doing handstands -- it all makes him feel about as big as an ant getting poked with a stick, but he can’t help it.
It goes on for months, and Jingyi develops a reputation for being a troublemaker. Other children avoid him, adults watch him closely waiting for him to slip up, and he’s more miserable than he’s ever been.
Today he’s meant to be fetching water for his chores. The Cloud Recesses has running water, but Lan-xiansheng is running out of new ways to punish him so Jingyi is fetching water. He decides to go all the way up into the back hill for it, just because, and stumbles upon a secret place that’s way better than his old clearing in the woods. It looks about the same as that one, except this one is full of rabbits!
Jingyi drops his buckets and hurries into the clearing with a gasp, something happy lighting up in his chest for the first time in a long time to see the fluffy little things gamboling about in the grass. That little spark fans itself quickly into a desire to join them so intense he can’t possibly keep it under control, and so without a second thought he begins jumping and running around with them, giving chase and laughing when they all scatter away. He lunges for them and tries to catch them, wanting desperately to find out what they feel like.
He can’t help but scream in sudden fear when he’s yanked to a stop by a hand in his collar. He looks up and feels the happiness in his chest burst like a soap bubble as he finds himself staring up at a glaring Hanguang-Jun.
“Ah…” he tries to start, but terror has closed his throat.
“Do not chase them,” Hanguang-Jun intones, his voice cold and inflectionless. It somehow feels just as bad as when people are angry with him. “You will hurt them.”
Jingyi struggles against Hanguang-Jun’s grip with a sudden burst of anger and the fear closing up his throat turns into a lump that he can’t swallow away and a burning in his eyes. He gulps down big, shaking breaths and scrubs at his eyes while Hanguang-Jun releases him without another word. He should leave, he knows he should, but it’s not fair! He just wanted to play and there’s yet another rule! Another ‘do not’ that can be used to make him bad!
“I didn’t mean to hurt them!” Jingyi protests, finally finding his voice again. He glares at Hanguang-Jun’s feet through the warbling of his tears and scrubs at his eyes again. “I wanted to play! I’m s’posed to be doing another --“ he hiccups -- “another punishment for being bad but I found them and wanted to play instead! I’m sorry Hanguang-Jun, I don’t want to be bad but - but - but -“
Jingyi trails off into sobbing as he curls up in a little ball on the ground. Why couldn’t he have been born a bunny? Bunnies don’t have rules, bunnies can be soft and fluffy and have a million-billion siblings and be safe in meadows. They can run and hop around and no one will tell them they have too much energy, that their behavior is inappropriate, that he’ll never be allowed to become a proper disciple if he doesn’t learn to control himself and not lose face for the Sect.
That must be why none of his family want him -- embarrassment. He’s not like the rest of the Lans, even Lan Yuan who’s his age and a war orphan too is quiet and nice and all the right things that the teachers want to see. Jingyi’s just a nuisance.
Jingyi isn’t sure how long he cries, but it feels like he’ll never be able to stop. At some point through his heartache he hears Hanguang-Jun greet a new set of footfalls with a quiet, “Shufu,” and Jingyi tries to pull himself together. He doesn’t want to cry in front of Lan-xiansheng too, not when yelling and crying in front of Hanguang-Jun is bad enough. He uncurls with an effort and stands up to offer a bow to Hanguang-Jun and then to Lan-xiansheng at the entrance to the little meadow.
“I’m sorry,” he says thickly. “I didn’t carry the water.” Jingyi leaves a wide berth between himself and Lan-xiansheng as he returns to his discarded buckets and picks them up, one in each hand. They already feel as if they weigh a thousand pounds, exhaustion and sadness dragging at his limbs before the buckets are even filled.
He’s nearly to the path when Hanguang-Jun calls for him. “Jingyi. Come back.”
#the untamed fanfic#Lan Qiren#Lan Jingyi#Lan Qiren raising ADHD baby LJY like 'I have failed my nephew so I will not fail you'#LQR looking at a blood Lan who is too distant to be in the line of succession unless something drastic happens#and saying 'I do not have to raise you to lead so I can raise you gently'#and LWJ looking at this boy who reminds him so much of WWX and looking at his very quiet and serious perfect Lan little son like#'please. Sizhui needs to be kind and laugh and be a kid in a way I wasn't allowed to be'#and Jingyi looking back at all of them like 'YOU GIVE HEAD PATS AND BUNNIES OF COURSE I'LL DO ANYTHING'#ANYWAY - this fic is not going to be anything new for a While for anyone who's been keeping up with it for WIP Wednesdays#It's literally just reposting what already exists only with proper chapter breaks and stuff#but it's at least something I can post regularly while I'm working on my other projects behind the scenes
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