#without changing anything else about them

[bats-and-the-birds]

I am thinking about the batkids and their rooms at the manor.

When Dick was first brought to the manor, Alfred put wooden letters that spelled out his name on the outside of the door to his room. He wanted the boy to feel like he belonged, and denoting the room as his seemed like the best way. At first, they spelled out "Richard", and were painted in red, green, and yellow -- the colors that his parents had worn for their circus act, that didn't have any other meaning yet. Dick pried them off the door and threw them away. He didn't want to accept that this was permanent yet. There were new letters on the door a few days later, blue this time, and spelling out "Dick" instead. Those letters got pried off much the same and shoved in a drawer, and they didn't get put back until a year later. He was too short to put them in the same place, so they ended up crooked, and Alfred found it too endearing to fix.

When he left the manor years later, he considered ripping the letters off the door and throwing them in the foyer on his way out. But he left them, and there they remained, crooked as ever.

Jason got his own letters when it became clear he wasn't going anywhere. He helped Alfred put them up on his bedroom door, standing on a step stool to make sure they got in the right place. His were evenly spaced and neatly aligned, and he refused to tell anyone that he cried over them that night. He'd spent months wondering if he'd ever live up to his predecessor, not just as Robin, but in the family as well. And now he had his own letters, just like Dick's, and they weren't going anywhere.

And they didn't. Even after he died. Bruce and Alfred both considered taking the name down to make walking past that empty room less painful, but in the end, they didn't dare touch the letters, just like they didn't touch anything else in the room. Years later, Jason would sneak into the manor through his old bedroom window and find his school uniforms still hanging in the closet, his textbooks on his desk, an open novel on his nightstand, and, of course, the letters still on the door, more of an epitaph than the one on his actual tombstone.

Tim fought for his name on a bedroom door. It took a while, but he trained, and he learned, and he forced himself into the role that he knew he could fill. Part of him thought that no matter how good and useful he made himself as Robin, he'd never really fill the role that the two before him did. He thought there might not be room for him after Jason's death, but he did it. He was older than the other two when Alfred finally put the letters up on his door, but he did it.

Later, when he left in search of Bruce, he didn't think for a second of taking his name down off his door. He'd earned it.

Damian's name got put up practically as soon as he got to the manor. He didn't think much of having his name on a door. If anything, it irked him a bit, being lumped in with the others, but it would have annoyed him more if he didn't get his own name. For a while, his name on the door, marking it as his from the hallway, was the only reason you could tell it wasn't the guest room that it had previously been. He had no photographs, had arrived with no personal affects.

That changed, eventually. As he gained friends, he also gained photos of them. He put up sketches and watercolor paintings of his animals. A dog bed got put on the floor for Titus. But the letters had been there from the beginning, and he grew to appreciate them eventually. His room, with the name on the door, was safe, and he liked it there.

Cass's letters showed up without much fanfare. They were simply there when she exited her room one day. "Cassandra" in black wooden letters that matched all of her new siblings'. She ran her fingers over them with reverence. She'd never been allowed to leave a mark before. Her life was predicated on being a shadow, but there was her name, in big letters, somewhere where other people could see it.

Steph had a room. She didn't want to admit it, but when she crashed at the manor, it was always in the same room. Her name was put up, and she took it down, and it was put up again, and she took it down again until it became something of a game between her and Alfred. If Steph was staying at the manor and Alfred didn't find a wooden S in a random cupboard, then have to search the house for the rest of her name, then he knew she was in a bad mood, and he usually made her favorite cookies and left them outside of the door with her name still firmly in place.

Duke's letters were waiting for him when he moved in. His name in bright yellow letters that matched his suit already in place. Of course it was, it's tradition at this point, and he's part of the family now. He had bounced around for a while now, and the letters on his door made him feel...calmer. It was a sense of permanence, and one he could learn to enjoy.

Barbara didn't need a room. She had her own room, in her own house, but Alfred still offered to mark out a space for her. She declined. When she did stay over, it was either in the cave or Dick's room, she didn't need her own. Still, that didn't mean her mark wasn't left somewhere. There was a study downstairs with a desk that she sometimes did her homework on as a child if she was staying over for the night. Now, the desk held a computer that was wired into the Batcomputer's network, a photo of her and her father, and, of course, tiny wooden letters affixed to the side that spelled out 'Barbara'.

#batfamily #batfamily headcanons #batman #nightwing #dick grayson #red hood #jason todd #red robin #tim drake #robin dc #damian wayne #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #duke thomas #barbra gordon #batgirl #drabble #batfam #alfred pennyworth #dc comics #comics #superheroes #how many rooms does the manor have? no one knows #i'd assume a lot though #like so many #i hope i did okay with Cass and Duke #i don't know a ton about them

[murdrdocs]

i’ve been thinking abt zombieau!luke lately but specifically that drabble of having to hide out from the walkers in the closet - what happened when they got back/while they were gone? like were percy and annabeth safe and sound or.. 🤔

previous this was gonna be happy and then i remembered ... nothing is happy in a zombie au!; angst; allusions to smut; MDNI 18+ 1.1k+ words

First daylight comes and you and Luke are sneaking out of the supply closet.

You're made aware of the step-shuffle of the stragglers of the herd, mindlessly wandering around the CVS while you and Luke calculate the best exit route.

Miraculously, you both make it out without any confrontation. Luke holds the weapons, and you hold the duffle bag full of medicine, hygiene products, any anything else you could fit in there. Truthfully, it was a successful trip. There's enough food to last for a while when added to your supply back home, you now have more pads and tampons than you had before, there are fresh bars of soap and you even managed to grab a few skincare products. Plus, the supply run got you fucked. Over and over and over again.

You should be happy. You should be gleefully skipping down the abandoned street back on your way home. But you're determinedly stomping instead, walking a few paces ahead of Luke as you exert more energy than you should be exerting. Your stomach rumbles every so often, reminding you that the last time you ate was nearly 24 hours ago at this point.

"Grab a granola bar out of the bag," Luke tries to convince you, his voice more relaxed than it should be in your opinion.

"No." You don't give much explanation, but you're sure Luke knows you're too stressed to eat. He likely also knows you're saving the bars for Percy. They were his favorite as you proclaimed as soon as you saw them.

"They're fine."

He sounds so assured, so relaxed. It makes you scoff and roll your eyes. You don't know that Luke is scraping the nail of his pointer finger along the side of his thumb. You don't see him ticking his jaw and taking mechanical breaths every so often.

He's trying to convince you as much as he's trying to convince himself.

"You don't know that," you tell him. "And stop looking at my ass."

He doesn't even bother denying it. He was looking at your ass.

'What-ifs' have taken over your brain, powering your limbs with adrenaline, pushing you closer and closer to the house, closer and closer to an answer.

What if they got bit?

What if they got kidnapped?

What if the herd moved there? What if they're trapped?

What if—

Luke's jogging takes you out of your thoughts. He starts walking by you, matching your steps. He walks close to you to the point where your hands brush against each other's every so often.

Luke is here. He's with you. He's starting to whistle a tune of a song you think you know. Or maybe you did know it before all of this. Before you knew Luke and Annabeth. Just his presence calms you a bit.

"They're fine," you repeat to yourself. You try to believe the words but it doesn't stick. "But we don't know that."

Luke tuts and you see him tilting his head out of the corner of your eye. "We also don't know that they aren't fine."

"That's shit logic."

"I could say the same for your logic."

"I'm just preparing for the worst."

"That never helps anything. You're making yourself sad already and then if something bad were to happen, you'll just be even sadder."

"You have no idea what you're talking about, do you? Preparing for the worst keeps you prepared for the worst, so if the worst were to come then I'm already prepared."

It's slightly comforting to know that nothing has changed between you and Luke. He knows what you feel like, you know what he feels like. You've both shared something that you'll never be able to undo, but you don't mind it.

You would be willing to share it again if the circumstances allowed. But right now, you're hyper-focused on reaching your destination which is just a few hundred feet ahead of you now.

You and Luke walk the beaten path worn in by tires. With only a few inches between you both, you start to miss him.

When you swerve over and walk closer to him, you try to do it naturally. Either way, Luke doesn't say anything about it.

You reach the house and everything is in order. The front door is still bordered up, the garage door is down, no windows are broken or opened. You and Luke round the house, jump the fence, and reach the backdoor. When you push it open, you don't know if you're glad or upset that Luke was right. You won't ever say the words "you were right" to him, but you're sure it shows in the way you quickly approach Annabeth and Percy.

They're at the table in the kitchen, Annabeth sitting with her back towards you and Percy sitting in front of her.

You don't think when you wrap your arms around Annabeth's shoulders, pulling her into you and pressing appreciative kisses into her head.

You're so busy expressing your gratitude and apologizing to them for leaving them all alone that you don't notice the energy in the house. You don't notice that only you have moved. You don't notice Percy's rigid shoulders.

You're only made aware that something is off when Luke speaks from his spot next to the door.

"What happened?" He says it like a fact. He knows something happened, he just doesn't know what.

You wait, and wait.

Neither of them say anything, so you try.

"Percy. What happened?"

Your arms unwind from Annabeth's slender shoulders. You approach Percy carefully until you're able to kneel in front of him, trying your best to meet his eyes.

He takes his time to look at you, and just the sight of his blue eyes clouded over with tears, both unshed and shed, spikes the fear in your system.

"Percy," you start again, attempting to stay calm even when your voice cracks over the syllables of his name. "I need you to tell me what happened so I can help you."

He sniffles, a tear glides down his reddened cheek and when you reach up to wipe it away, he flinches away from you. The gestures hurts you at first, but you know Percy.

You don't move your hand, letting it hover in the air, waiting for Percy to give in. And he does.

He falls to his knees, burying his head into the crook of your neck as he lets you wrap your arms around him. He's growing up, getting bigger day by day, but right now, while he wets your tee shirt with tears, he feels like the little boy you used to babysit. He feels like the kid who got in trouble far too often and had copious amounts of love covered by misplaced anger in his body.

He feels small.

You know you won't coax any explanation out of him like this, so you look up at Annabeth, one hand wrapped around Percy's shoulders and the other pressed into his matted curls.

She looks at you. She blinks and a twin set of tears falls down onto her cheeks.

"He thinks he found his mom." Your eyebrows furrow, but you don't have anytime for questions before Annabeth continues.

"He thinks he killed her."

#zombie au!luke #lukesworld! #luke castellan x reader #celeste writes pjo #luke castellan x you #/chats

[roseghoul26]

Hello! I would like to request Cooper Howard x gn!reader (post war, because...murderous cowboy...hnnngh), where they struggle with mental health issues like depression? I've been in a really tough spot, having no energy or motivation to do anything or really any desire to take care of myself. So I was thinking, maybe the reader's mental health is declining, they're slower and sloppier when it comes to keeping up with Cooper and he's more and more frustrated. Then one day he has enough (maybe the reader is taking too long packing up) and threatens to leave them and they're just...passive, because they really don't care anymore about what happens to them. So he realises they haven't been taking care of themselves properly for a while now and then some soft moments with him? I know this is pretty dark and you can change this however you'd like, but I'm dying for some hurt/comfort with this man 🥺 It's totally cool if it's too much for you, if you decide to not write this, please just let me know, so I don't wait for it. Thank you so much, I love your Cooper fics <3

Cooper Howard | The Ghoul x gn!Reader

Synopsis: You’ve been struggling lately, putting both you and your traveling companion in danger. He was bound to confront you about it eventually. Tags: Prompt Request, Not Beta Read, Gender Neutral Reader, Depression, Mental Health, Mentions of Suicide, Disagreements, Comfort, Lazy Day, Cuddling, Beginning Relationships Author's Note: Trigger warning for topics relating to mental health, such as depression and suicide. Please do not read if you’re not in a good mental space. Take care of yourselves. Also, everyone’s experience with depression and mental health issues differs, so I am writing this story the way I experience it. Also, this was a fun challenge to write. Like how the hell would he approach a topic like this? It’s been fun to explore his character like that, and I hope I did it justice. Thank you so much for the request! <333

You used to be able to keep up with the Ghoul. 

Wherever he went, you followed, tearing through the Wastleland without hindrance. You watched his back, and he yours, a security that was unheard of in this world. It was a trusting friendship, bordering on something else, something that neither of you had crossed yet. You couldn't compete with over a hundred years of experience with a gun, but you were able to hold your own quite well. You were a decent shot and someone who never let anyone get the drop on you, senses always sharp. 

So when you started missing easy targets and found yourself surprised by opponents one too many times, you knew it was a matter of time before the Ghoul started asking questions and not believing the first lie that you said. The first time it had happened, you blamed it on your lack of sleep, and he seemed to buy it. And maybe you convinced yourself it was just a lack of sleep, ignoring the darkness that had begun to emerge in your mind. You just needed to rest, was what you told yourself. 

It happened again a few days later, completely missing a target in front of you. Your reactions had begun to slow down, too, unable to avoid the swing of a blade, cutting across your cheek. It was like your body gave up on wanting to move, an unbearable weariness to your muscles that you were unable to shake. Later, as you bandaged the wound on your cheek, the Ghoul confronted you, demanding to know why you were acting so sloppy. You’d merely shrugged, offering up the idea that you were sick. This time he seemed less convinced, yet he had let the matter go. 

You knew why you were acting the way you were. You weren’t unfamiliar with depression, far from it. It was something you’d dealt with your entire life, coming and going like waves. You’d go days, weeks, months and you’d be fine, but then a flip would switch. You’d lose your energy, your motivation, wanting nothing more than to just lay on the ground and never get back up. You’d stop taking care of your body. You’d lose your appetite. Your thoughts would turn dark, ideations and ideas flashing in your mind, things that you’d never tell another soul. 

For the months you’d been traveling with the Ghoul, you’d been able to keep a reign on your depression. Sure, you had your off days, but nothing like this. It was like the universe was punishing you for having such an excellent past months. 

But how could you explain this to your traveling partner? How could you explain that you didn’t have the energy to continue existing, to continue fighting? He needed you to be alert, to not have your thoughts occupied with something, that in perspective to the Wasteland around you, was trivial. 

So you kept your mouth shut, forcing yourself to appear alert and unaffected. You forced those thoughts to the back of your mind. You forced your body to move, no matter how much it screamed at you to just be still.

But it seemed that all that bottling your thoughts up did was make it worse. As the days dragged on, you stopped talking, only muttering small words whenever the Ghoul asked you a question. You’d normally spend the time traveling conversing, and the Ghoul did try to initiate a conversation with you, but no amount of questions and joking and jabs could get you to break. Eventually, he fell quiet too.

Sleeping became a challenge. You’d think with how exhausted your body felt, you’d be able to sleep easily, but the opposite was true. Hours would tick by, and you’d lie awake, getting up the next morning more exhausted than before you went to bed. Your face, already a bit gaunt from living such a difficult life, had grown even more so, the circles around your eyes darkening and your lips growing more chapped. 

You stopped eating, turning away the food he offered you. After you went a few days without eating more than a bite, he practically forced spoonfuls of food into your mouth, snapping at you the entire time. It was humiliating, but you couldn’t bring yourself to change. You just wanted to be done. 

You could tell that your demeanor was starting to annoy the hell out of the Ghoul, whose words had turned shorter and snappier. If you took too long, he’d grab you by the shoulder and drag you along, like an upset parent with their child. Your cheeks would burn every time, tears pickling your eyes, and you’d hang your head. 

There was a tension growing between you and the Ghoul, your friendship growing thin. His guard was up constantly, unable to trust you any longer to watch his back, which hurt you more than any knife or gun. Soft glances disappeared, his gaze scrutinizing when he looked at you. Light touches from him reserved for when you were at rest were no more, as you chose to keep to yourself every night. Instead of walking side-by-side, you’d linger a few feet behind him. You pretended like it was easier this way, to make him push you away, but it was tearing you apart. 

But eventually, that tension snapped. Too many close calls, too many sluggish movements, too many half-hearted excuses finally made him break. You’d just gotten up for the day, another sleepless night behind you, and you were packing up your few belongings. You must’ve been taking too long, because you heard him sigh audibly, standing in the open doorway of the room you’d sheltered in for the night. “What’s your fuckin’ issue?” He growled, arms crossed tight over his chest.

You looked up, feigning confusion. “I dunno what-”

“Bullshit,” he cut you off. He began to walk towards you, his steps methodical, threatening. “You’ve been actin’ like this for weeks, and you’ve only offered me half-assed excuses.” He was seething, and understandably so. He crouched down in front of you, rendering you unable to escape. “So, you,” he stuck a finger in your chest, barely avoiding hitting you, “are gonna tell me why. And don’t even think ‘bout lyin’, sweetheart.”

You swallowed, heart hammering in your chest at the confrontation. Words flooded your mind, a full explanation on the tip of your tongue, yet you just couldn’t bring yourself to utter it. Your mouth opened and closed, struggling, until you eventually just gave up. Sighing, you just shook your head, which pissed him off even more. 

A disbelieving laugh left him, and he ran a gloved hand over his face. “No? You’re kiddin’ me, right?” He didn’t wait for a response. “Ya know, I’ve tried to be lenient. I bought into your fuckin’ lies that you were ‘just tired’, ‘just sick’. I tried to give ya space, to give ya time to get out of this. But you’re gonna get us both killed if ya don’t fix yourself. I can’t be distracted out there, constantly worried ‘bout you and keepin’ you alive, ‘cause it seems like that’s the last thing on your mind.”

He took a breath, steadying his rising voice. “So I’m gonna give ya one more chance to explain yourself, or else I’m leavin’ without ya.”

“Then leave.” Your response came almost immediately, your voice lacking any inflection. Even though in the back of your mind you were screaming at him not to leave, you kept an air of indifference about you, unable to make yourself care. It would be easier if he just left, wouldn’t it? You wouldn’t be putting anyone else in danger, and you wouldn’t have to deal with the guilt you felt of him worrying about you so much. And it would be so much easier to just disappear if there was no one looking for you.

He wasn’t expecting that as a response if the look on his face told you anything. His brow muscles were raised, leaning back from you in shock. But the way he was watching you, it was like he was observing you in a different light, dots beginning to connect in his mind. “You’ll die out there without me.” 

You merely shrugged your shoulders, glancing down to continue packing your belongings, no longer able to look him in the eye. He didn’t respond, simply standing up with a sigh. You didn’t look up, not even as you heard him walk away, backing towards the entrance of the room. You didn’t look up, even as you heard the surprisingly gentle click of the door as it shut. You didn’t look up, even as the tears that you’d been holding for the past weeks finally fell.

You were alone.

You thought it would make you feel better like there would be a weight lifted off your shoulders. But everything just felt heavier, the thoughts in your mind becoming a tempest, making you physically weak. Expletives tumbled from your lips as you sagged down onto your arms, head hung. Of course, he’d fucking leave, you idiot. No one wants to deal with your moping.

A part of you wanted to chase after him, to beg him to stay, but you already felt pathetic enough. You couldn’t blame him for leaving, not at all. You were weighing him down, putting his life in danger; he said so himself. He could only deal with you for so long. You should be grateful that he didn’t leave sooner.

The sound of rustling fabric made you jump, finally looking up. The Ghoul had taken off his jacket, laying it across the back of the couch he had slept on, never having left the room at all. Stunned, you watched him sit, taking his hat off in the process and setting it on the floor. He finally caught your eye then, a soft look on his face, a look you hadn’t seen in a long while. 

“I thought you left,” you whispered, sitting back upright. Embarrassment warmed your cheeks, and you tried to wipe the tears that had fallen on them. 

“I ain’t leavin’ ya, sweetheart.”

“Why not?”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Do you want me to go?” You’d never shaken your head faster in your life. “Then I’m stayin’.”

“But why?”

He sighed. “‘Cause I care ‘bout you. I… Is that too hard to believe?”

It is. Unable to find words, you just shrugged again. 

Something akin to regret or remorse flashed across his face, and muttering something under his breath he reclined against the couch. He was upset, but even now you could tell it was not because of you, at least not fully. “C’mere,” he murmured, patting the couch beside him. “You look like you’re gonna fuckin’ bolt at any second.”

Taking a steadying breath, you complied, albeit with some difficulty, your legs barely wanting to function. His gaze didn’t leave you once, as much as you wished it would, making you want to collapse in on yourself. The walk to the couch felt like it was miles long, but you eventually made your way over to it and him. 

He rolled his eyes when you just stood there in front of him, unsure of what to do with yourself. “Sit down, I ain’t gonna fuckin’ bite.” In another situation, you knew he’d add some comment like unless ya want me to, but he bit his tongue. The couch groaned as you sat next to the Ghoul, keeping a foot between your bodies. “Talk to me,” he commanded, yet his voice was gentle. “What the hell’s goin’ on?”

You picked at the skin around your nails, no doubt drawing blood. “I���m… I’m not quite sure how to explain it,” you responded, and you expected your words to upset the man even more. But he nodded his head slowly, an almost understanding look on his face. “I’m just… done."

“Done with… what? Bein’ out on the road?” You shook your head. “Travellin’ with me?” You shook your head again, this time more vehemently. “Done with what?” You knew that he knew the answer to his question, but he wanted you to say it.

“I’m done with… with existing. I just can’t bring myself to care anymore. I’m just so tired of it all.” You sagged back against the couch like speaking took a toll on your body. “I’m so tired.”

He didn’t respond for a while, mulling over your words. “That… that explains a lot,” he chuckled humourlessly. “Your mind won’t just leave ya the hell alone, will it? It's like all your mind can focus on are these terrible fuckin’ things, no matter what ya do. And it just weighs on ya, like a million pounds, getting worse with every passin’ day until you just wanna… give up.”

He explained it perfectly, and you cocked your head to the side, a bit confused about how he was able to do so. “I ain’t a stranger to what you’re goin’ through. We’re well fuckin’ acquainted, to say the least. So I shoulda recognized it sooner with ya.” 

He paused, sighing. “Wanna know somethin’?” You nodded. “I was too busy thinkin’ ‘bout what I did to upset ya that I didn’t bother to think of any other possible reason as to why you’re actin’ the way you are. But once I realized it wasn’t my fault, not entirely, instead of bein’ there for ya, I was an ass. I thought, because I’m a damn idiot, that you were just mopin’ around for the hell of it, putting us both in danger simply ‘cause you were tired or some shit. Not once did I stop to think why. And I apologize.”

“You don’t gotta-” He cut you off with a pointed look. “I… I accept your apology, then.”

He nodded slowly, content. “I’d like to help ya, sweetheart. I know nothin’ I say or do is gonna make it go away like that… but I’d like to try. Whatever ya need from me, and you’ve got it.”

“I’m not sure what I need exactly,” you admitted quietly.

“When ya figure it out, will ya let me know?” You nodded.

“Just… be patient. As difficult as that is for you.” You hadn’t meant for the jab to come out, but you weren’t taking it back. Especially when a loud laugh left the Ghoul, making a smile of your own appear on your face. It was faint, yet it was there.

An almost starstruck expression appeared on his face, his laughter dying out. “I missed seein’ ya smile,” he murmured as if it was a subconscious thought.

You ducked your head, making him laugh again. “As for bein’ patient, well, I can be that, if that’s what ya need.”

“It’ll take some time,” you cautioned again, indirectly giving him a chance to back out of this. 

“Time ain’t an issue. I’ll wait as long as it fuckin’ takes.”

“You mean it?” Your voice was so soft, barely audible to either of you. 

You watched as one of his gloved hands inched towards you, palm upturned. Tentatively, you placed your in his, eyes growing wide when he brought your hand to his lips, kissing the back of it gently. “I swear,” he uttered, sealing the promise with another press of his lips.

As you returned your tingling hand to your lap, his eyes scanned over your face, a furrow appearing between his brow. “How long has it been since you’ve eaten somethin’? Somethin’ that I didn’t force ya to eat,” he added when you opened your mouth to respond. 

Your silence said enough, and he leaned down to his bag, which he had placed beside the couch when he sat. After a few moments of rustling through, he handed you a small bag of what appeared to be jerky, as well as a small canteen of water. “It ain’ human,” he added when you eyed the bag suspiciously before taking it.

The jerky was salty and tough when you took a bite, not quite wanting to, but unable to not eat under his gaze. You ate in silence until your stomach was full and your teeth hurt from the tough material. Taking a swig of water, you could feel your eyes growing heavy, eating seemingly draining your energy more than replenishing it. Stifling a yawn, you shoved the canteen back into his hand, and you noticed he had an almost pleased look on his face. 

You were confused, though, when he stood, making his way to the entrance of the room. For a moment, those thoughts flashed in your mind that told you that he was finally leaving, that he realized how pathetic you were. But instead of doing any of those things, you watched as he simply wedged a chair under the handle of the door, like he had done before you went to bed for the night. 

“What’re you doing?”

“We takin’ the day off. Doctor’s orders.”

“But aren’t we supposed to be in Filly in a few days?”

“We’ll be fine. You are gonna spend today catchin’ up on some much-needed rest.” He stood in front of you now, a moth-eaten blanket in his hands. 

“And what are you gonna do?” You asked, and he shrugged. 

“Don’t worry ‘bout me, sweetheart. Go ‘head, lie down.”

Your eyes quickly scanned the couch, and you took a deep breath before speaking again. “The couch is big enough for us both, no?”

For the second time that day, you’d stunned him with your responses. “Is… is that what ya want?”

Encouraged that he hadn’t just outrightly said no, you nodded your head, and a fond look crossed his features. He handed you the blanket before sitting once more, but instead of his back being against the cushions, he rested it against one of the armrests, not before tucking a pillow in front of it. 

Once he was situated, he opened up his arms to you, and you could’ve laughed at how uncertain he looked. Hands rested on your body when you laid down, head on his chest, laying on your stomach, and you made sure the blanket covered both your bodies as best you could. You weren’t too worried about covering all of you, though, with the sheer amount of warmth he was radiating. 

His eyes were already on you when you glanced up, a smile pulling at his lips. “Comfy?”

“Yes.” Your voice was barely audible, but he heard it. 

You felt his fidget with something in his hand behind your back, but you didn’t have to wait long to find out what he was doing. You felt fingers run along your scalp, making you shudder, before combing through any hair there. “Alright?”

You sighed contently, nodding your head before letting it fall back onto his chest. He continued to run his fingers there, his other hand tracing patterns across your shoulders. You hadn’t realized how tired you were until now, finding it hard to keep your eyes open. For the first time in a long time, you felt safe. Safe from the world outside this room. Safe from the thoughts that plagued your mind. Safe from everything. 

He didn’t have to see your face to know that you were struggling to stay awake. “Go to bed. I’ll be here when you wake.”

“Promise?”

“Ain’t fuckin’ like I’m gonna be able to get up,” he chuckled, before taking a more serious tone. “I promise.”

That was all you needed to hear before you finally let the final strings of consciousness leave your grasp. Before you lost control of all your senses, though, you felt him lean down, pressing a barely-there kiss to the top of your head. “You’ll get through this, sweetheart.”

You believed him.

#the ghoul x you #the ghoul x reader #fallout tv series #cooper howard #cooper howard x you #cooper howard x reader #fallout prime #fallout show #fallout

[aangelinakii]

TALK.

— swimming... fountains?

summary : the two of you had been best friends since god knows when. maybe things turn out differently when you pull him in.

not proofread !

for as long as he could remember, dick grayson was utterly in love with you. from the way you held yourself, to the way you smiled at him, and down to the jokes you teased him with that he wouldn't let anyone else slide with.

ever since you were kids, you consumed his every thought. but what he didn't realise, was that you felt the same.

of course, it was a situation of miscommunication; simply just being too afraid to bring it up to the other, and not being able to read the hidden feelings of one another.

as nightwing, trained detective, dick knew how to read people. he could match a villain to their alter ego by simply passing them in the street on his way to grab a sub sandwich for lunch, but with you it was just different. maybe because it was a matter involving himself, as opposed to simply onlooking others. he felt conscious of his role in your life, and didn't want to manipulate things to follow his wishes.

put simply, he respected you immensely, and didn't want to force you into a situation he was scared you didn't want to be in. perhaps that was why you were better off as best friends.

on days neither of you had anything to do, you walked through the various parks of gotham, usually talking about how the past week had gone, or how the how many days that had passed between seeing each other had gone.

today, the two of you did just that. it was normal, nothing to be thought of it... right?

"i dunno, bruce has been stricter on us recently," dick chimed up in response to your question about his recent patrols. "so i don't really know what's going on."

pursing your lips, you gave a shrug. "even from when i've met him, he doesn't seem too lively. maybe he's just going through something."

"that's what i'm worried about."

and dick gave a sigh, one that held more weight than he was letting on. clearly this was something bigger than either of you two knew.

for a moment, you sized him up, watching as his eyes trained on the pebbly ground ahead. with the back of your hand, you nudged his arm, causing him to perk up.

"hey, how about we get some ice cream? maybe even sundaes from that shop on fourth?"

at this, his eyes lit up, stormy skies clearing with the reemergence of the sun, along with his charming smile. you knew he would be more than happy to, even if he didn't say so.

before you, the water fountain was approaching, with each step the two of you took. as it came up, you brought your foot onto the ledge, and began to walk along it.

as if like clockwork – because of the amount of times he had been with you as you walked along the fountain – dick held his hand out to your, soft palm up to the sky. in his field of work, it was a miracle he could keep his hands from getting calloused.

without having to think about it, you placed your hand in his, fitting like a puzzle piece; like a glove; lock and key.

"i already know what i'm going to get," dick piped up once again, his other hand snug in the pocket of his jeans. "rocky road, vanilla, and strawberry. maybe some butterscotch and marshmallows. i might gain a few, but i'll work it off tonight, anyway."

a laugh brushed past your lips, and you opened your mouth to reply. but any words about to escape slipped past without a sound, for your foot slipped. the fountain's ledge was slightly wet, probably from where a bird wanted a quick bath, or someone playing fetch with their dog actually threw the ball in and water splashed everywhere.

whatever it was that had happened, you were falling, no birds or dog toys could change that. and when you looked over at dick, mouth agape and eyebrows raised in shock, he was falling, too.

with a deafening splash! the two of you were splayed out in the water fountain, gasping at the chill, trying to push yourselves to sit up.

"oh my god!" you gasped, pushing your soaked hair out of your eyes, which were wide as they looked over at dick, who seemed just as shocked as you. "are you okay? i'm so sorry!"

"no, no, i'm fine," dick replied, running a hand through his raven hair, looking around at the situation as if not truly believing he was sitting in a water fountain, where literally anybody could walk past and find him. if he found any front pages with his photo on them, he would not be too happy.

on his knees, he waded over to you, and your eyes noticed the way his white shirt grew translucent in the water.

"you," he began. "are you okay? you're not hurt, are you?"

for a moment, you were worried maybe you were, but the adrenaline coursing through your body had deafened the pain, and you frantically moved to inspect if you still had all limbs.

opposite you, a chuckle brushed past dick's lips. "you look fine," he hummed. and when you looked up, his expression was soft; almost more stripped, more genuine, with the droplets of water lingering on his cheek and eyelashes.

"fine?" you repeated airily, the ghost of a disbelieving laugh running out with your breath. "like, i'm fine, or i don't look damaged?"

if you blinked, you would miss it. dick's blue eyes roamed your appearance briefly, the smile lingering at his lips. "yeah, you're fine," he replied casually.

he sat on his knees before you, not seeming to mind the cold water seeping through his clothes – which were probably more expensive than your rent – just smiling up at you, the chill causing a light flush to creep onto his cheeks. after a moment, his smile faltered, and he seemed to grow self-conscious.

"i want to talk to you about something."

you gave a laugh. "really? is this really the right time for that?" you questioned with a half-chuckle, eyes glancing around at the situation the two of you had found yourselves in; sitting pretty in a water fountain, where people were beginning to take notice. but hey ho, it was gotham; stranger things have happened.

dick paused, and, passing over a few beats, gave a bashful shrug. "i don't know. it might be. i don't think there would ever be a right time for this."

with a furrow of your brow, you narrowed your eyes at him. "what's up?" you hummed, repositioning yourself to sit more comfortably on your knees, the water rippling around you.

his mouth opened, readying to speak, but he looked away, seemingly thinking over his words, judging by that inquisitive glint in his eye. but he finally looked back at you.

"you know how much i appreciate you, right?"

at his words, the corner of your mouth twitched, aching to hold back a smile. "yeah, of course. i appreciate you too, dick."

"like," he continued, chuckling softly, "i'm not even mad that you ruined my clothes by pulling me into a fountain in the middle of the park. seriously. not even mad at all. if you were tim, i would be holding your head under the water right now."

you gave a nod, eyes flickering to the side. "where is this going?"

dick exhaled through his nose, expression hardening as he looked over at you. "i think you're great. i think you're great when you fall into a water fountain and bring me with you; i think you're great when you send me a text before i go on patrol telling me to 'keep safe'. i think you're great when we go on walks, and when we go share an ice cream sundae, and when you remember my subway order—"

"how am i supposed to forget that you like your subway melts with way too many pickles to even be normal?"

and he laughed, that softness that you just adored shining through once more, causing you to crack a grin as well.

"what i'm saying..." dick began once his chuckle had trailed off, eyes gazing into the trickling stream pooling from the statue in the centre of the fountain. "i guess... maybe i wish we weren't friends."

almost as soon as the words left his mouth, your eyebrows creased and your jaw dropped. "what– that doesn't make sense—"

"i'm in love with you, (y/n)," he finished, cutting off your confusion with barely a full sentence, his lips trembling. "okay? is that okay?"

how could you even reply to that?

noting your lack of response, dick continued to talk, trailing off awkwardly. he was ready for your years of friendship to be over.

"i just suppose we tell each other everything, and i kind of felt – i don't know – guilty that i was leaving this out. especially since it involves you. i know if you ever had a problem with me you would tell me, and the same for me with you, but i could never have a problem with you, i just thought it was the same sort of principle, i dunno—"

warmth clashing against the chill of the water, soft skin meeting soft skin. only for a moment. and it was over.

you pulled away, eyelids fluttering open to look at your best friend expectantly. best friends can't be best friends after this.

he felt for you the way you felt for him.

after every patrol, no matter how tired, he always made an effort to knock on the window of your bedroom, and bring by one of your favourite snacks, or even just to tell you about how it had gone; you adored it, the way he was so thoughtful. you thought he was just doing it because that's what best friends do.

he used to help you study for tests, and make sure you knew the content back to front before you went in.

some nights you would dance in the kitchen to your favourite oldies whilst cooking a dinner to watch in front of a good film; and it was those moments that you felt really connected him to you. but you thought it was just what best friends did.

as you looked up at him, lips thinning anxiously, dick's face softened, eyebrows upturning, the corners of his mouth pulling down.

"you just... kissed me," he breathed, his breath fanning your tingling lips. "why did you just kiss me?"

"why do you think, doofus?" you scoffed playfully, bringing a hand to softly nudge his shoulder, despite the bashfulness evident on your face. "i think i'm in love with you, too."

#aangelinakii #dc #dc comics #dc reactions #dc imagines #dc headcanons #dc universe #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #nightwing #dick grayson imagines

[sunshineandspencer]

Change in behaviour (Iridescent, Part 6)

Let me stress, this is not Maeve from the show, but my own Maeve just named the same to send Spencer into hell whenever he thinks about it.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!OC.

Summary: Once Penelope took notice of Spencer’s changed behaviours towards Maeve, she dragged him off for answers that she was going to get.

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: swearing, spencer is oblivious to his feelings™

Parts: Pt1, Pt2, Pt3, Pt4, Pt5, Pt7

Over the next couple of weeks, through the last couple days working, the month at the college, and then back to work, something had changed with Spencer Reid. A blind man would be able to see just how different he’s being around her

Ava - which is his new name for her now, that she adores - would’ve joked about how she only nearly had to die for him to get the stick out his ass, but the last time she said that, he told her off. It wasn't fun.

She doesn’t want to say that his behaviour is coming off as protective, because he’s sort of all over the place.

The first time she noticed it was when he inserted himself into conversations with LEOs, the ones that were either being a touch too friendly or blatantly flirting with her. Breaking through their persistence and getting them to fuck off. But would then turn around and call her stupid for not just walking away and needing someone else to take care of her.

Only to lead her back to the conference rooms with a hand on her lower back.

For the month they spent at the college, while her bruises were still healing and several people kept giving them concerned looks, he was the one to get their coffees. Memorising her order and actually paying, plus keeping soft conversation with her the whole time. However, he still calls her ‘assistant’ in the lectures and treats her as such.

She firmly believes he can’t make his mind up about her, which makes everything so much more confusing.

Spencer, on the other hand, is losing his damn mind.

To him, Ava seems completely unaware when men were genuinely unaware of men trying to flirt with her. She can acknowledge blatant flirting, from guys looking for a hookup, but people actually interested in her were overlooked despite their flirting. Causing him to step in far too often to tell people to back off when they started getting frustrated at her lack of acknowledgement. 

What little grasp she has on her own wellbeing drives him crazy. Sure, profiling would tell him that it’s from a lack of male attention in her teen years that wasn’t teasing or fake, irrationality tells him that she’s doing it on purpose just to piss him off.

In getting their coffees, he noticed just how much caffeine she’s been drinking, hell, it’s more than him, and swapped her order without her realising. It made her less twitchy, she didn’t crash halfway through the day, and it let him use that as an excuse for why he’s suddenly able to get on with her.

Absolutely no other reason.

Their coffee dates - which he still refuses to call them - extending to every morning and not just when they’re at the college means nothing.

The fact that he still goes to her apartment each morning for a lift, despite his coffee machine and car both being back in working order, means nothing.

Most importantly, the way that his heart jumped when she wore a sundress or called him ‘Spence’ for the first time had to mean nothing.

He couldn’t allow his mind to trick his body into reacting like that. Logic tells him that the only reason he’s displaying signs of falling for Ava is because of her name. It’s the reason that he hated her, for reminding him of his dead girlfriend. Surely it could be the reason he’s getting pseudo symptoms of a crush.

He’s looking for the Maeve he knew in the one that he’s got. That’s all it is. Crossed wires. There isn’t a reality he could face where it’s anything more than that.

Which is were Penelope Garcia comes in.

Of all the people in the BAU, he’s been closest with her the longest - not able to think of a time where they weren’t the bestest of friends. If he believed in soulmates, and platonic soulmates, it would be her. And she sees straight through him.

Dragging him to the IT cave for an interrogation but made sure he’s comfortable first. Placing him in a chair and shoving a plush elephant into his hands, sitting down to glare at him.

“Right. What’s going on?”

“Nothing--”

“If you try to tell me you’ve not got the hots for our Osmond, I’ll put you on a coffee strike.”

His jaw clenched and she knew that she’d gotten it right - courtesy of spending the majority of her working life around profilers. Squealing softly and wheeling closer to pat his knees excitedly.

“My Spencie has a cru~ush!”

Scowling at her, he gently brushed her hands off his knees and slumped in the chair. Tugging the elephant plush tight against his stomach and looking off absently into the monitors behind her. Honestly wishing he wasn’t having this conversation.

“It’s not like that Penelope.”

Making a face at him, she wheeled back into his lines of sight and frowned at him.

“What is it like then? Because you’ve been fawning over our Maeve for weeks now.”

“That’s just it!” He sits up, gesturing wildly with one hand while the other holds the plush close, getting frustrated. “It’s her name!”

“Her.. are you seriously telling me that you only like her because she’s also called Maeve”

Groaning, he dragged a hand down his face, really not wanting to be having this conversation. Not when he’s made this neat little box of all his excuses- reason, for why he doesn’t like her. Having Penelope poking around isn’t going to do any good for his little box.

“No. I don’t like her because of her name. It’s just a mistake, a bunch of fucked up chemical impulses. The only reason my brain thinks it likes her is because she’s also called Maeve. It’s associating that love I had for her with Ava, that’s all.”

It’s quiet, but he can’t bring himself to look at her. For a split, idiotic, second, he assumed his reasoning got through to her. 

Forgetting this is Garcia he;s talking to.

“Oh sweetie. What goes on in your clever head that made you think that?”

He finally looks at her, and she can see him pleading. Nonverbally asking her not to poke holes in his only defence against falling for Ava. So she sighs softly, knowing he needs to get to the conclusion she has, but it has to be his realisation.

“Alright. Let’s do a hypothetical, pretend there was never a Maeve Donovan. Tell me what you like about Maeve Donnelly.”

“I can’t just--”

“Hush! Tell me what you like.”

Penelope had whipped her hand out to press her finger to his lips, and when she pulled it away she clearly expected an answer. Cutting through his frustration at having to hypothetically pretend he’d never known that Maeve.

Besides, he knew he'd never be allowed to leave if he didn’t play along.

“Well.. she treats her car like her baby, even if she does drive like a lunatic. It’s cute, I guess, how she fusses over every turn I make and whenever I adjust something in her car. The only thing she wouldn’t let me touch was the radio, but she listens to classical music on the way back from work so I don’t mind. Then, even when she does play her own music on the way to college or work, it’s actually pretty good. There’s this one band she really likes - loves, really - called Set It Off, and she saw them in London last year, but she keeps the tickets attached to her fridge. Uhm.. she lets me ramble, you know. Never tells me to shut up, or tries to come up with some useless excuse to get away from me. And I tested her once, talked about the explosion of Vesuvius for an hour and a half, and at the end of it she actually had more questions for me, good questions. God, and she asks the best questions in my lectures, even when she knows the answers, letting me repeat or cover my favourite part of the lecture - because she knows it’s my favourite part. My tie, my favourite tie, I spilled coffee on it a couple weeks back and couldn’t get the stain off, somehow she managed to find and buy me the exact same tie a week later. I still don’t know how she managed that. Back when I was still being a dick, she still let me use her car to drive to the college, and she bought me coffees and let me sulk in quiet - hell, she completed the essays I set because she enjoyed it. Sometimes I have to check her report before they’re sent off, and she leaves little smiley faces for Emily as a ‘break in the nastiness’. She memorised my coffee order before I even met her, she didn’t go for a handshake, and she cleaned my desk for me when I first arrived. I called her angel once - twice - and now whenever she hears the word angel, she looks at me. And the only reason I know that is because.. I’m usually already looking at her.”

Finally taking a breath, he hadn’t expected it to be so hard, his lungs hitting against his ribs and almost threatening to tear through. Now that he’s said all that out loud, which isn’t even half of the reasons, he’s come to a sickening conclusion about his own feelings.

Hell, the only reason he’d stopped talking is because he’d run out of breath, it worried him, how much more he could say about her.

Penelope, blinking slowly, had clearly not expected the entire spiel he just came out with. Sure, she had guessed that he had a lot to feel about Ava, but not that much. Eventually shaking herself out of it to wheel closer again, laying her hand on his forearm to drag him out of his own head.

“And do any of those reasons have to do with the other Maeve?”

“No..”

The word felt heavy in his mouth, like his body was protesting this influx of awareness.

Honestly, he hadn’t felt like this since Maeve. Fuck.. he’s not even sure he felt this about Maeve. In his head, he’s always considered her as his first love, but to be honest.. He’s not sure anymore.

Maybe it was just the guilt, of finally having something resembling a relationship with someone who liked him, only to lose them and their last words being their professed love. But over the years, when he thought about Maeve, it wasn’t grieving a loved ripped away from him, it was just losing someone he had started to care about.

He hadn’t loved her, but he didn’t know that. Not until he realised that whenever he thought of a Maeve, he thought about Ava. And whenever he thought about how much he loved Maeve, he thought about Ava.

So maybe his first love is Maeve.. just not the one he expected it to be.

Penelope, after a few words of support, knowing he needed to deal with this alone, let him go while still holding onto the plush. The little supportive elephant was tugged close to his stomach as he blindly walked back to the bullpen.

Ava was there, of course she was, and she’d already packed her bag up. Biting softly at her bottom lip as she packed away his bag, which she did whenever he took too long.

Then she was looking up, and his throat was lodged firmly in his throat as she smiled at him, not sure how he managed to walk over to her. Even though he heard the words that she was saying, not a lot of it got through the haze he was currently in.

“Hey Spence, you took too long and I sorted out your bag again. That.. is such a cute plushie, did you get it from Penelope? She never lets me have one.”

She pouted softly, looking down at the plush held tight between his fingers, before focusing back on his bag. Doing it up as he looked between her and the little pink elephant he was crushing against his stomach.

How the hell did he convince himself that he hated this woman?

Sniffing, he thrust the elephant into her hands and picked up his bag, hooking it over his shoulder and starting to walk out. Pulling out her car keys from his pocket.

“You can have it. Let’s go, I want to grab coffee on the way home.”

Forcing himself not to focus on her happy little laugh, or the way she had called him Spence again, as if it didn’t cause his heart to finally dislodge from his throat and plummet into his stomach.

Want more?! Good!

#spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x self insert #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid oneshot #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds oneshot #criminal minds x reader

[hannahssimblr]

She seems brighter when she comes back, though we all ignore the blotchiness of her face, like she’s just been crying. Her lashes are a little wet too, making them long and spiky like she’s a girl from a cartoon. She and Liam are smiling into each other's faces now, mumbling vague reassurances, giggling together as though what just occurred was so silly, and hasn’t caused any genuine hurt to either of them. 

When he kisses her on the cheek she flinches slightly as though there is something objectionable or embarrassing about the way that he touches her, and in that moment his insecurity makes sense. 

I think everyone feels bad for her then and wants for her to feel included because they start asking her questions about school which she answers enthusiastically, making sure to look very interested and engaged in what everyone is saying. It occurs to me that she’s a nice person, that she’s making an effort with others and being polite, and perhaps my initial judgement of her formality was unfair. I think I should try harder to be a nice person too, but then I wonder if it’s even in my nature to be that way. I’ve sort of already embraced being a bastard and allowed it to define me. 

“Tell everyone what you want to do in college,” Shane encourages, and Evie fiddles with the ends of her plaits. “Oh, well, art, I think.”

“You make art?” I say.

Immediately her face reddens. It must be a side effect of her kind of complexion. 

“Yeah, I suppose I’m okay at it.”

“Everyone says she’s great at it.” Liam says proudly, as though we are discussing his accomplishments and not Evie’s. “I haven’t seen her drawings yet, but the girls were raving about her. She draws in her sketchbook every day.”

“That’s cool.” I speak pointedly to her and not him, “What do you draw?” 

“Just whatever I see. Landscapes, people, sometimes still life, like stuff that’s lying around in the mobile home. I really like doing it, because when I’m drawing I don’t have to think about anything else.”

I smile. Somehow it’s comforting to hear her talking about art in a way that’s wholly familiar to me, as a meditation, a form of escapism.

“Jude is an artist too.” Jen says. “Ye have something in common.”

“Yeah, I’m studying art in college next year. I already have my place in the Berlin Academy of Fine Arts to do a degree.”

“Oh, so you’re studying abroad?”

“Yeah, it’s going to be good. Four years in Germany, I can’t wait. I’m actually leaving at the end of the summer,” which is… about seven weeks. My palms prickle and become damp with sweat but I keep smiling. It’s fine. Everything will just fall into place as long as I don't get stressed. 

Claire interrupts our conversation with her return, and kneels whispering urgent sounding things to Evie. I don’t hear anything but the delightful phrase “throwing up everywhere” and wonder with utter dread what exactly constitutes everywhere. On the couch? The rug? Up the walls? Well, at least it’ll be motivation to clean the house for once. Still, I’m struck by how much I fucking hate Kelly Healy in that moment, and consider suggesting that Jen clean up her vomit as penance for inviting her in the first place. 

“I can get my dad to come and collect us,” Liam is saying as he and Evie are getting up to help.

“Is everything okay?” says Jen, and Evie smiles tightly, “Yeah, just Kelly’s sick, so we’re going to have to take her home and look after her and stuff.”

“You don’t have to go, Evie, you can stay here with us if you want.”

She shakes her head, “No, I do. I want to go with them,” she turns to leave, but Jen quickly catches her wrist, “Hey, you should come to Dublin with us this weekend.”

“Huh?”

“Jude and I are going to an exhibition, and you might really like it.”

Usually I’d be pissed off that she’s changing our plans without consulting me first, but it seems like a good idea to me, actually. Maybe it’d be nice to go to an exhibition with someone who enjoys art, and not just Jen who walks around pointing at things and saying I could do that if I was bothered.

“No pressure at all,” I assure her, “but yeah, if you want to, you’re welcome. We’ll mostly be hanging out in the city for the day anyway so whatever you feel like doing.”

Jen pats her hand and gives her a meaningful look, “I’m just saying, it might be nice to get away for an afternoon.”

Evie grins. It’s the happiest I’ve seen her look all night, “I’d love to.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

Corresponding LG Chapter

#lucky boy 2010 #shoving Liam out of the way so that Evie and Jude can talk #love them sm like honestly #it's been so easy to write their dialogue and gdhsdgf #i'm excited for what's to follow #tw: alcohol #tw: vomit mention

[lostbetweenvampiresandmusic]

Hi! I really like your stories and I saw that requests were open, may I ask for a David or Marko X fem reader where they use like vampire mind powers on her? Could be soft or angst

Totally fine if you're not comfortable with it!

Hi! Thank you for requesting (and sorry for the wait. I had to finish uo some chapters of Changes before i lost the inspiration). I hope you like this!💜

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

I was not a risk taker. That much I knew. I'd never speed while driving, I'd never trust someone blindly. I'd never went into a test, knowing I hadn't studied well. I never left anything up to chance, always trusting my own gut instinct more than I did anyone else. I never did anything without calculating the outcome first. So no, I did not take risks.

And yet, here I was, going out on what must now be my twenty-somethingth date with him. The ultimate risk taker. Seriously, if anyone was taking risks, it was him. Marko just loved irking people on and pissing them off just to see what would happen. He loved riding his bike, jumping over gaps and chasms he could find, laughing it off if it almost went wrong. He loved the thrill of the chase, the adventure, the unknown - and somehow that led him to me. Or me to him, I wasn't sure.

As much as all these things terrified me, I liked him. How could I not after dating him for quite some time, hanging out almost nightly and going on official dates every once in a while. He was funny charming, caring - and of course excelling at terrifying the living shit out of me by doing some weird stunt.

"Trust me, you're going to be fine."

I raised an eyebrow, looking at him. "I don't think cliff diving is a good idea when it's day. You really want me to do it at night?"

I looked down from the cliff we were standing on, looking down at the roaring waves clashing against sharp stones.

"I am with you," he turned to me, giving me a soft smile as he took my hand, "what's the worst that could happen?"

"I'd die by hitting those rocks? Or I drown? I've even heard of someone getting paralysed by hitting the water wrong, so-"

"I won't let that happen to you."

I rolled my eyes as i saw how much he struggled to not laugh. "I'm being serious, Marko! I don't think it's smart-"

"When is the last time you left things to chance?"

I shrugged, sitting down and letting my legs hang over the edge. "Can't remember."

"Must be stressful."

Marko sat down next to me.

"I don't know, it's what I'm used to. I'm just - I'm not a risk taker, you know?"

He chuckled, pulling me close. "I know. But I need you to trust me, just this once."

"I don't want to dive."

"I never said anything about diving, you concluded that when we got here."

"You never denied it either!"

He smirked, causing me to sigh as I looked at him. Still, I was curious. "Then what are we here to do?"

"Fly."

I laughed, shaking my head. "You have lost it."

"Come on, you'll love it!"

"Humans can't fly!"

"You know I'm not. And I know you want to. You said it yourself when I asked you about superpowers."

"Yeah, but that was hypothetical. Not real..." I trailed off, not looking at him. He sighed, standing up, offering his hand to me.

"I won't fly off the cliff, but I am going to take you flying."

"But what if-"

"Babe, look at me," Marko stared into my eyes, and I felt a sudden calm wash over me. "You are perfectly safe. You're going to be fine. Do you trust me?"

I blinked as I realised what he was doing. Mind control. And yet, that last question wasn't him controlling me, I realised. It was him asking permission. I nodded slowly, still feeling uncertain, but trusting him regardless.

Marko smiled, hugging me close before I felt the ground disappear from beneath my feet. I closed my eyes, too scared to look, but as Marko had promised, I felt perfectly safe.

"You can open your eyes, you know."

With an uncertain smile I did, looking at him and then at the sky around us. We weren't flying too high, only about six feet. If I fell, I would probably only be a little bruised - but I'd be fine. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I nodded softly, adjusting my grip. Marko chuckled, landing slowly.

"That wasn't that bad, was it?"

I shook my head, hugging him tightly. "I just don't like taking leaps of faith."

"Babe," Marko looked at me, "why would you say that in such an apologetic tone? I don't fucking care. You teach me to become a little more careful, I teach you to become more care free-"

"Have I made you more careful?"

"You'd have a heart attack if you'd seen how I drove before meeting you."

I looked at him wide eyed. "I already have to fight a heart attack with how you drive!"

"Imagine," he said, giving me a kiss on my forehead as we walked back to his bike, "How bad it was before."

#the lost boys #tlb #marko #david #paul #the lost boys 1987 #dwayne #tlb 1987 #the lost boys x reader #marko x reader #marko tlb

[justatalkingface]

I find Endeavor giving up on Toya once he found out that his son's quirk (Blueflame) was self-destructive to be, not only out-of-character, but incredibly stupid.

Endeavor is loaded, he bought Rei. Why not buy Toya special support gear costume with cooling? Aoyama's belt, Mirio's suit, and f*cking Mecha Might basically suggest that support gear can do anything as long as the plot demands it.

Besides that, has Endeavor literally never heard of endurance training? That's literally the only type of training Class 1A does most of the time. Just have Rei on standby if anything goes wrong. It's not like being a human cooler would be the most degrading thing she's suffered.

It's like the first time Aizawa criticized Deku for injuring himself with One for All. Did they try thinking of solutions before trying to get them to give up ?

Also, it's kind of messed that Toya's inability fulfill Endeavor's goals is because Rei, the bought mother. It could've easily been Endeavor's fault, like his intense training at a young age ruined Toya's developing body.

OK, you see, the thing is you're thinking about this logically. Like, Endeavor has been many things, but 'rational' isn't one of them. Deeply toxic and twisted, on the other hand?

You need to think like someone desperate to prove themselves, filled with about eight superiority and inferiority complexes, and yet so resigned to his own inferiority that he ended up needing to make someone else to do it for him. The fact that Toya hurt himself? It meant he was weak. That's it. He was weak for being unable to use his powers safely.

And the second he was weak, he was no longer useful, because he could no longer beat All Might.

(Nevermind, of course, that there was nothing he could do to make someone able to beat All Might, because All Might and All For One are both setting breaking hacks that single handedly break the balance of power. Even a super Shoto with the blue flames of Dabi and, like, absolute zero ice, perfectly balanced and able to withstand his own power, would get casually bitchslapped by All Might. That's how overwhelmingly broken he is.)

Beyond that, it's worth pointing out that, 1, Mecha Might is, again, setting breaking bullshit, even in the bullshit casually tinkertech setting that is MHA, and that 2, while Quirk training is a thing (presumably that's how Dabi was able to be as high functioning as he was with his... well, entire everything, that he grinded with his Quirk until he was able to work beyond the pain), there are limits without Awakenings... and let's be honest, Awakenings are just how Hori tried to explain people's various power ups to try and keep them relevent in the ever increasing clusterfuck of his story. No amount of training would make it so that Toya would not burn himself; training like that increases limits, but it doesn't change how the Quirk works.

There's basiclly no reason, in setting, for someone not to suit themselves entirely in support tech to be a purely tech driven hero, beyond institutional culture that is built around people's Quirks. I can't even say it's expensive, because hell, Mei just pulls them out on the regular, and there's every reason to think she was making them even before she actually got into UA, instead of somehow learning to make them within a week or two of getting into school.

The fact that support tech is so damn underused is almost criminal, especially for people with more limited abilities; can you imagine if Kirashima, with his hardening, was given some kind of ranged tool? An air blast or something?

You're also ignoring all his complexes in implying that, 1, Rei could do anything, when literally she only exists to be a breeder, and I don't think he's ever shown imagining her able to do... anything helpful.

And, most importantly, 2: Endeavor always blames everyone but himself. Always. Even in the 'canon' (I have opinions on the sheer level of retcon there) version of events, with how soft that is on Endeavor, Endeavor sets up Toya to have a psychotic break. He isolates him, orients his entire life around one thing (surpassing All Might) and then takes away the very foundation he built his life on, before basiclly ignoring him and never trying to fix him afterwords; of course the kid is messed up! Yet, all this time, he looks back, and all he can think is, 'I couldn't stop him! Toya was so driven, Toya wouldn't stop hurting himself, Toya wouldn't listen to me!'

Toya, Toya, Toya. Everything wrong with Dabi's story was blamed on Toya, even though he was an actual child and Endeavor was the one with all the control in the family; his recollection of things was so warped you could see how it contracted with literally everyone's experience of events... Of course he was going to blame Rei over himself! Rei is the person he bought, and he's the top hero, rich and famous! Nothing is ever his fault!

(Also, I have opinions on Aizawa, and they're overwhelmingly negative. The fact that Aizawa wanted to ditch Izuku first thing is a result of his overwhelming biases and prejudices..... exactly like Endeavor. MHA has this thing of making massively biased authority figures that are obviously so and then going through fire to protect them from their own actions.)

#ask #mha critical #bnha critical #endeavor critical #hori's massively biased authority figures #the endeavor reconning

[mayashesfly]

A follow up/expansion on the Robot replaces Dead Vox scenario au

For simplicity's sake I'll refer to Vox's robot replacement as the Proxy. And any possible future posts about this au will be tagged under "The Proxy AU"

(Do take note that some of these things may be subject to change as I expand on this au in time)

Thank you @theautotrophic for your questions! ^w^

Vox made the Proxy at first after his fallout with Alastor as a way to let out his self loathing. So Alastor didn't know about it.

The Proxy is almost direct reconstruction of his body but improved to better at handling overheating amongst other things while also having the chest area be more… masculine. (If you headcanon Vox as Trans ontop of my headcanon that he can't exactly have permanent top surgery because sinner regeneration is a bitch)

The biggest difference between Vox and the Proxy is that the Proxy doesn't have alot of shark-like qualities unlike Vox since Vox was still terrified of sharks when he made the Proxy.

So the Proxy doesn't have any dorsal like fins and his tail is a retractable cord tail instead of a retractable shark tail. But it still does have the gills as its vents.

There's also details on his backside specifically that he couldn't replicate because well… It's not like he can see his back.

The Proxy was meant to be Vox's attempt to upgrade his body as a way to cope with his fallout with Alastor. After all, if he can upgrade his head, why can't he upgrade his body?

Unfortunately, he couldn't actually replace his body with the Proxy. And the idea of completely getting rid of it didn't sit right with him since he wasted alot of materials and time into making it.

It'll be a waste to scrap it but it's not like he could admit that he made the Proxy in a state of weakness to his only business partner friend left.

After some time of calming down, he realized that he could use the Proxy as a back up plan if things go south with him.

At this point, he still didn't know he could transfer parts of his memories into flashdrives to download them somewhere else. But he reasoned that he could theoretically make a head for the Proxy and program it to act like him.

So knowing that there's a chance Valentino would see the Proxy because you can't exactly hide a life-sized "improved" replica of your body, he told Valentino that the Proxy could be a backup plan for him if things go south before Valentino could find out about it through other means.

At the time, Valentino was utterly confused and pretty disturbed at the information.

But it was something they never really brought up again since they both wanted to forget it.

Velvette didn't actually know about the Proxy until it happened.

After his close fight with Alastor wherein Valentino intervened before Alastor disappeared, his thoughts went back to the Proxy as he realized that he could actually die.

His media empire with Valentino and Velvette was already growing and if anything happened to him, the technological and broadcasting aspect of their business would fall over without him acting as the head.

And their reputation would take a hit if Valentino and Velvette was forced to rebrand Voxtek in the case of his death. Especially if their competitors sees his death as something that'll weaken the Vees.

He couldn't bare letting the Vees go without an actual backup plan in case something happened to him.

So while he and Valentino healed from the battle with Alastor, he took some time upgrading the Proxy to be up to date and actually modifying and programming it so that it could actually act like him in case something happened.

He didn't bother making the Proxy a head of its own since he knew he always upgraded his head and it would just be a waste of time.

But he did set up a machine that can automatically give the Proxy a head after the head that'll be installed has the proper programming and necessary memories installed inside.

The Proxy doesn't actually have any personality of its own unlike Kitty wherein Vox put in the extra effort to give it some personality thay he knows Valentino would like since it was a gift for him (just like how Vark was a gift for Vox from Val which helped him embraced his shark-like qualities)

The Proxy is programmed to handle broadcasting, interviews, and public meetings. Pretty much every public appearance Vox had to make.

The memories downloaded into the Proxy mostly isn't personal at all, and they mostly only pertain to the business and important aspects of their business. (So it doesn't have any personal memories of Alastor)

Though there are also programmed codes and memories on how to handle Valentino and Velvette to make sure they don't fly off the handle based on Vox's previous interactions. With more emphasis on how to specifically handle a Valentino who's having a fit just in case.

Though when the two of them goes against the programmed interaction the Proxy has on them, then it has some difficulty.

After all, it wasn't like it has anything to work off on on how to handle a grieving Valentino and Velvette.

It takes alot of energy from the Proxy to handle its daily public appearances. And it's unable to do surveillance unlike Vox as any attempts to do so would overload its systems and it'll just crash.

When its not on "public appearance" mode, the Proxy is on a "low power savings" mode around the Vees as it tries to keep up the appearance of a businessman for the other employees. Though it visibly buffers and pauses at times, causing its face to disappear.

Sometimes Valentino and Velvette would manually power it off to be hidden somewhere out of plain sight.

It's a miracle if they could remember to plug it in through its tail cord or its actual charger or another charger so it could recharge.

Something that Vox's assistant has to keep up on consistently unless he wants to reschedule the entire day so that the people who are none the wiser won't be confused or upset that Vox had to reschedule their meetings and other public appearances. (Poor Eelliot)

As for Vox's death well… I'll keep that to your imaginations for now :D

But I will say that one of the reasons Alastor knows Vox is dead is because of how their shared frequency went completely silent.

Meanwhile, the Vees have a contract to ensure that everything the deceased Vee has under their possession would be transferred to the other Vees in the event of their death so that they won't lose any power, souls, properties, and ect that the other Overlords and Kingpins could steal.

Even when Valentino and Velvette didn't know where Vox was or how he died, the both of them physically felt Vox's powers and possessions going to them after he died, confirming his death.

Valentino quickly went to Vox's surveillance and control room to desperately search for him while there was an Extermination going on outside.

It took everything from Velvette to convince him not to go outside when he could also be killed and then Vox would be fucking upset with them.

(Neither of them said a word that there was no more Vox to be upset with them ever again)

When they finally located his body, they quickly collected him discreetly so that noone else would know that the Vees lost its eldest member.

Neither of them said a word as they hugged the cold, lifeless corpse.

A stark contrast to the warmth Vox constantly radiated despite his calm and collected persona.

It took some time for Valentino to finally put Proxy to use.

Some of Vox's shows having a few reruns while he gathers the courage to face the machine.

He had half the mind to completely destroy it beyond repair.

To tear everything down to pieces after he had lost his longest business partner.

But Kitty and Proxy was the only things left that Vox made with his two very own hands.

To have them repaired by someone else other than Vox…..

Well, while Vox may still be the same despite how much he changed…

The same could not be said about the robots he made.

It wouldn't be the same.

When metal and wires could easily be replaced but the soul cannot.

It wouldn't be the same.

Still, he couldn't stop himself as he shattered the screen that showcased it buffering instead of the exasperated but still fond sneer he had gotten used to.

Velvette was absolutely devastated and livid when she found out about Vox's replacement.

She screamed at Valentino, asking him what the fuck he was even thinking and HOW THE FUCK DID HE EVEN ACQUIRE SUCH A THING

Vox never told her about the Proxy and while Velvette could care less about the roofies she makes and the Fizzibot Val has and every worse thing she's done under existence, she couldn't fathom replacing Vox with a mere husk of a pathetic disgusting thing.

She only stopped her shouting when Valentino quietly said it was Vox's idea.

And they both promised that they'll kill whoever decided to hurt the Vees and avenge Vox.

For now it was something both of them could focus on, even if it was a lie.

Valentino will hunt them down no matter what other people may say.

When Alastor saw Vox alive and well after the dead silence in their shared frequency, he first thought it must be a bad dream.

But he knows it was real.

That it happened.

After the confusing feelings he felt upon seeing that familiar face alive and well passed by, anger gripped his soul.

He had half the mind to ruin and destroy that pretender.

Vox was well and truly gone and it'll stay that way if Alastor could help it.

But when he realized what truly happened, he could only laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh at the situation.

And when he calmed down, he deigned to not interact even further at what happened.

Except for mocking the remaining Vees at what had happened to make himself feel better.

#may asher writes #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin hotel vees #staticmoth #voxval #radiostatic #angst #The Proxy AU #Hollowed Proxy AU #I know some people are curious about a more sentient robot route and it's definitely something I'm interested to explore too #but I'll expand on the more simplistic emotionless robot route for now #there's definitely a bunch of details I'm omitting and vaguing about here that I might expand on later on :p #but this is the gist of the au for now ^w^

[littleplantfreak]

Say my name - Sakura Haruka

Normally I'm bad with titles but without further ado! A ficlet(?) about Sakura struggling to call his lovely partner by their first name! It's SFW (but still under the cut) btw

I tried to keep it they/them for neutrality but if you find a stray 'she' somewhere that's my bad

(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

“I really don’t know what to do with him Suo! Every time he tries to say it he just freezes and sputters until he calls me ‘you’ or he changes it to another word last minute. Last week he tried so hard he nearly turned purple and gave himself a headache!” whining, you practically drape yourself over the table in defeat.

“Wow…our captain really is shy when it comes to that stuff, huh?” Suo’s holding back but you can tell he wants to laugh. Once Sakura shows up he’ll throw a teasing remark or two in but you’ll still be at square one.

“Maybe a nickname? Or what if you don’t look at him when he says it? What if he spells it out-“

“I don’t think we need to go that far,” interjecting gently before Nirei could start going through an insane list of things that may or may not actually work for the present problem, Suo leans forward, looking at you from across the table. “There’s something we can try that might work if you're up for it."

——

It’s not a bad plan actually, if more simple than you thought it’d be. You’re waiting behind the support wall in the middle of Cafe Pothos, obscured from anyone just walking in. Nirei and Suo are at the same table near the front that you were at before, and Kotoha is cleaning dishes at the sink, though she knows what’s going on and has a ear turned towards the main stage of this event making sure she doesn’t miss a thing.

From where you’re peeking before Haruka opens the door, you can see Nirei’s tense shoulders, both trying and failing to appear casual not that your boyfriend will pay it any mind. Sometimes you're afraid he'll end up like Hiragi and his nervous stomach issues. Suo is the picture of tranquility as he eyes Nirei’s notebook before greeting Haruka. You hear your boyfriend stop, possibly looking around for where you said you’d be waiting for him earlier.

“Where’s-”

“A-ah…”

“Bathroom~,” Suo singsongs smoothing over his partner’s stuttering. “By the way, Nirei’s been wondering about their first name! It seems the notebook page he has on them is incomplete without it…” he’s drawing attention, not to the boy himself, but the pen and notebook he’s gripping on to waiting on Sakura to take the bait. Nirei had opted for silence as he clicks his pen and as if to write it down.

"It’s-" a short pause before he actual says the full weight of your name, matter of factly too, without fumbling it at all and you’re suddenly too giddy to contain yourself.

“S-Sorry I wasn’t listening. Could you say it again?” Nirei squeaks out.

There’s annoyance in his voice as Sakura says it again, and before he can get anything else out, you’ve decided this is your cue.

“Yes, Haruka?” You blink looking at him, poorly portraying innocence but you can tell blood is rushing to your face and you cannot rub your smile off if you tried.

“Oh my~ Sakura you’re so bold calling your partner by their first name!” Red eyes glittering wickedly as he taunts “How romantic!” He gasps with a hand over his mouth. Looking flustered but proud is Nirei, nodding vigorously, and Kotoha giving Sakura a pat on the back in congratulations. You’re proud of him yourself, despite having to coax your name out of him with the help of his vice captains.

He's wide-eyed going between you and Suo, gears clicking in to place that he'd been set up as he settles for firing at the brunette "Wha- you- I'm GONNA KNOCK YA-,"

"Oookay we're heading out now!" Before he starts a fight, you link an arm through his and begin leading him towards the door. He’s puffed up like an angry cat but his body completely yields when it’s you who’s maneuvering him away the cafe after saying a quick goodbye to everyone.

It's quiet, the path you take through town on the way to your house and he doesn't look at you when he mumbles a quiet apology. You aren't quite sure what he’s apologizing for but you stop walking and wait for him to start speaking again.

“Sorry fer takin’ so long to say it.” He’s still not looking at you but your heart breaks a little at how small he sounds. You touch his cheek enough for him to turn and look at you, uncertainty clear in his bi-colored eyes.

“Honey I never meant to rush you. If you’re still working on it that’s okay! I never wanna make you feel uncomfortable,” brows knit together in worry now that you’re holding his face in both hands, searching signs that you took it too far.

“I think I’ll be able to say it now - especially if it makes ya look as happy as ya did at the cafe. Not all the time, but when we're alone I think I can." He’s almost fully settled into your hands now, melting into warmth he’d been craving since he woke up this morning. He always wondered how such soft hands could touch something as rough as him and still continue to make the effort to hold him. You wait for him to finish soaking up his much needed affection for a few more minutes and then you're both walking again, slowed by the urge to stay close for as long as possible.

----

"...and she popped out from behind the pillar and said "Yes, Haruka?"" Kotoha mimics your voice as she's giving Umemiya the rundown of what he missed.

"He's growing up so fast!" He wails theatrically wiping a tear from his eye.

"He's changed a lot since he came here, and even more since they started dating. I think he's getting soft with how fast they were able to drag him away without a fight."

"So he went from alley cat to house cat huh. Nothing wrong with that." he grins digging into his omurice. Kotoha smiles and hums in agreement. Nothing wrong with that in the slightest.

#wind breaker #sakura haruka #sakura haruka x reader #I think i managed neutral pronouns thorughout #also this is the longest thing ive ever written for a character esp cause its not headcanons #sorry if its bad #but tbh i think im exercising my writing muscles well despite the occasional struggle for words and grammar. #also can you tell i hate dialog? and every comma and quotation mark that comes with it

[go-owlbears]

My favourite trope in fanfiction is actually time-travel meeting, where the younger ones can see that things do actually get better, and the older ones can see that they have actually changed, and they’ve achieved so much. And I think the Bad Kids are primed for that kind of thing.

I’m imagining that they’ve been graduated for a few years, they’ve got their own careers, but they do still adventure pretty regularly and are a well known party. Then, they’re fighting something that’s gotten ahold of a chronomancy object, and when one of the BKs tries to grab it, they (and the thing they’re fighting) are sent back in time.

Meanwhile, it’s the second day of freshman year, everyone is still standing outside, waiting for the first bell, the younger BKs are whispering about what the corn means, when a huge monster falls through a rip in time and crushes one of the statues near the front doors. Then, before anyone can do anything, six full grown adventurers are destroying it and grabbing the watch and pulling each other up, congratulating each other, laughing.

Goldenhoard tries to go up to them and ask what’s going on, and the goblin on the half-orc’s shoulders pulls out a gun and shoots him point blank. Everyone’s confused as hell, and the group don’t seem to know where they are. Until someone mentions the date, and then they just look kind of exhausted. At the end of the day, when the young BKs try to go to Krom’s to spy on Johnny Spells, they find older versions of themselves, who spent the day reminding themselves what happened and figuring out how to help with Freshman Year level problems, including-

-Fig getting Gorthalax out, sitting all her parents and younger self down and having a talk about how best to keep communication open and be kinder to yourselves, since they all want each other to be happy.

-Fabien has a long talk with both of his parents, getting his mom sober earlier, and a talk with younger him about being your own person and living up to expectations.

-Adaine pulls younger her from her family, and gets Aelwyn to chill. She does get her parents out of Elmville, via Blackmail or other means, with the implicit threat of punching them to death. She now has two younger sisters, and encourages the type of emotional self expression that was previously repressed.

-Riz giving his younger self the schedule he works on, including breaks for all meals and six hours of sleep each night. He doesn’t allow younger him to fall int the bad habits he did. He also tells his mom a little bit about his dads new job, and they have a happy cry about it.

-Gorgug gives his parents the schematics for a reinforced bed and a few of his works. Younger Gorgug is a little starstruck that older him is so cool, and Gorgug takes a minute to explain to younger him that he deserves to have the things he puts effort and thought into pay off, that he deserves to take pride in the cool things he could accomplish.

-Kristin gets younger her to speed run an entire theological breakdown, reassures her at every step, and gets her into a more relaxed, solid mindset with a support system outside of her family. She also has to find a smart way of getting young Kristin to realise she’s a lesbian without sending her into a crisis, and is semi-successful.

-Throughout the year, the older BKs have run ins with their parents, go about fixing problems for Sophmore and Junior year (they stop Porter’s plan, and when he runs off Gorgug ends up being a substitute Barbarian teacher for half the year). They’re trying to figure out how to get back to their time. The ending is either Kristin dying to Coach Dawn and bringing Arthur back, who can send them back, or they can’t go back, so now there’s two versions of the BKs running around, and if both groups are in one place, everyone else evacuates, because something is about to go down.

#adaine abernant #adaine o'shaughnessey #dimension 20 #fabian seacaster #fantasy high #fig faeth #figeroth faeth #gorgug thistlespring #kristin applebees #riz gukgak

[spotforme]

i am actually in love with Cat and Lister's friendship or whatever the hell it is they've got because they're so different in style and philosophy but together they belong. i am thinking about btl spesifically, that's a place where they can have anything and they choose to fuck around together, drive places on Lister's motorcycle and judge eachothers' eating habbits. it is so much fun.

like of course there is the way the present themselves, Lister with his often sloppy, dirty, worn out clothes and biker rolling through a ditch austethic and Cat with his never-wearing-the-same-thing-twise, outfit colours and styles fluxuate through the seasons' trends and often to multiple a day. like i can't believe they really get what the other's going for but they don't really say much on the subject

then there are their views on dramatic topics like death, crippling injury and the like. it's hard for me to describe them exactly, but the Cat has an attetude adjasent to 'if you can't do anything about it without getting your hair messy, then dont' like i feel he'd much rather spend time sewing a new dashing outfit than mourn because what good is feeling bad gonna do now really. whereas Lister very much needs to get his emotions out there, be it crying at a romantic movie, missing a friend or displacing an arm amd wanting some reassurance. like Lister is emotionally intelligent as fuck sometimes, and lonely when he doesn't have anything to pour his affection to, and it feels a bit cruel sometimes that he was placed on that ship with only emotional garbage (sorry to Rimmer and Cat. i love them both but they have their moments of absolute dogwater insensitivity) and maschines.

so they don't always mix well, Lister and Cat, but they still do because there's enough mutual likes and mutual hates. there is that they're the only people left who they can still touch that isn't just cold old metal or plastic, i'm just saying an arm to grip every once in a while goes a long way to keeping oneself sane. they are nice to eachother, they are scoundrals together, they share schemes they share crimes, sometimes they even share a braincell. they're like the only thing in the universe they have to a normal friendship and i am so not normal about them.

like when Cat steals a shampagme bottle and shares it with Lister, like when Lister lets Cat take naps in his bed, how they share snide and embarrasing remarks at Rimmer's expence, the way they pair together on missions and (barring Guarantine) they don't hate eachother after decades of occupying the same space, they're still being dumb and bitchy together. everyone else has left, been changed into another version, or both but these two have both been through all of it. they're such unlikely friends but they're the best. sence the first moment they met and Lister decided he's keeping the Cat and Cat somewhere along decided that it's fun to hang around and that he's keeping Lister too, they've got such a bond i don't know what is going on with them. they make an odd couple of weirdos that i'm obsessed with

#i swear this was supposed to be a two sentences long post #this always happens to me i swear to god i need a break #red dwarf #but once the thoughts start coming the maggots just spew out like they're escaping a fire #i just thought ''cat in a pretty suit being neatly styled and lister in a week old tee sure make a fun looking couple of weirdos'' #i should never write anything down it always gets out of hand

[h-didanart]

Me: oh boy, finally some free time! I can finally work on the stuff I have to work in! I could add more ideas to Family Weekend Camping 4 or maybe work more on Empty Gaze, I know people would appreciate it, ooh, I know! I could fully write that really important chapter for Moon and Sun Show! What’s more, I have two major Bloodmoon drawings to do, a gift for a mutual, a yearly redraw for pride month, and the Virus!Jack story. So much to work through, I’m sure I can pick one of these to complete!

Brain: Bloodmoon Chaos House

Me: …

Me: …

Me: >:/

Bloodmoon chaos house, a place where I store my AU Bloodmoons at apparently. There’s the three pairs I usually draw, the two canon interpretations, and a handful of the ones I talked about in that ‘how many bloodmoons do you have’ ask.

Important designs:

To the left, Ruby and Vermillion (previously Scarlet but I changed their name), the amnesiac Bloodmoon without bloodlust. To the right, The Sturgeon Moon and The Harvest Moon— they probably have other names but they refuse to be called anything else— the magical Bloodmoon.

Left and middle, currently unnamed, the fantasy world Bloodmoon version 1 and 2. To the right, Bloody, Scythe, Harvest, and Rabies, the Bloodmoon from the ocean au.

Now you get doodles (and included are the actor//youtuber au twins who I didn’t make a reference for)

I blame @achickennamedcheese for this

You made me think about them

How dare you

(I’m being silly, you’re fine, I had a lot of fun with these)

#tsams #sun and moon show #sams #the sun and moon show #sams bloodmoon #tsams bloodmoon #bloodmoon sams #sams au #sams bloodtwins #tsams bloodtwins #cw drinking #mentioned at least #tw blood #very faint and badly drawn #all I said at the beginning is true #I have SO much stuff to do #it’s not even funny #my readers would be so disappointed if they saw what I’m doing here #I’m even dropping lore on the stories! #speaking of lore #all these guys? all these guy’s’ dimensions? #they have names now #I came up with a naming system for dimensions #and I named them #all nine of them #… I really do have issues huh?

[theslowesthnery]

i feel like it's not rare at all for characters who on all accounts are "coded" to come across as good - beautiful, angelic, kind, gentle, open, soft-spoken - to turn out to be villains, but i want more of the opposite: i want more characters who are very much "coded" to be seen as evil - ugly, monstrous, demonic, sneaky, suspicious and secretive, sarcastic and biting, harsh, circling around the hero like they're a beast sizing up their prey - to turn out to be good guys, or at least not villains

i don't know i'm just at a point where everytime a character who is Very Clearly intended to be seen as evil turns out to be evil, i'm disappointed lmao

#the same way i think it would do good for creators to every now and then change the gender of some of their character #without changing anything else about them #i think it might do creators good to every now and then switch the designs of some of their heroes and villains #(edit: and slightly beside the point but also! i want games with multiple playable species to pick one enemy species and make it playable!) #anyway i was reading some ER fic and the contrast between how the actions of the Clearly Good Guys were written and described #and how the actions of the Obvious Bad Guy (mohg) were written and described was. pretty wild #even though at that point of the fic mohg hasn't even done anything yet

[kanene-yaaay]

Warm, Soft and all the other things that I can only be with you

Kanene's notes: Ok, I just had NO IDEA that I would come to like Jiang Cheng as much as I do when I first watched mdzs. Maybe I should've realized when his first apparition is LITERALLY coming right when Jin Ling is being defeated by Wei Wuxian and calls him saying that >:[[ his jiujiu will kill him and aaaaaa Wei Wuxian asks who his uncle is and then KJHGFDEFGH JIANG CHENG LITERALLY APPEARS FROM NOTHING SAYING "I'm his uncle. Any last words?" BRUHH. He just breaks me. aughhh ALL OF THEM MAKE ME GO INSANE!!!

Anyway this story isn't about any of this. It's about Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen being absurdly in love and playful and cute and silly <3 All the thanks and applause and hugs for @squeaky-n-blushy for spending literally HOURS screaming about mdzs+tickle scenarios with lil ol me because it helped me so much to brainstorm kjhgfdfghjk

Warnings: This is a bit of more intense story than the usual that I write, so be warned. There's angst and lots of fluff. Also a suggestive joke (LOOKING AT YOU WEI WUXIAN) and some making out in the fic but it's really not the main focus here and a quick thing. Lots of teases, tickles, kisses and more teases. Especially about losing control. Romantic setting. Around 13.000 words. Mainly Ler!Jiang Cheng and Lee!Lan Xichen.

[~*~]

Jiang Cheng was not jealous. 

He was fine. Great, even.

He was just... curious.

There were a plentiful of words that could be used to describe Wei Wuxian.

Insufferable. (Strong). Troublesome. (Joyful). Annoying. (Smart). Stupid. (Traitor). Stubborn. (Sacrificial). Careless. (Mischievous). Impulsive. (Brillant). (Genius). (Caring). (Important). (Family). (Stupid). (Stupid). (Stupid).

(Brother).

And, if needed, Jiang Cheng had all of those and much more that he used on a regular basis every time they got stuck in one of their usual bickering matches, both of them still learning how to tip toe the lines between hurt and healing, family and enemies. 

It was hard. Confusing. Good. Exhausting. Raw. They would fight and punch each other across the bonds during a heated match - that were actually growing less and less frequent, thankfully - or extend an olive branch in each other’s direction and not comment on how small it looked in the ocean between them. 

But both of them grew up in the Lotus Pier and no water body could ever scare them. Bandages and cuts decorating their hands as they kept building the bridges and boats to forgive and find each other someday. 

Day after day.

Jiang Cheng shook his head, dissipating those overly sensitive thoughts. All of that was irrelevant and not at all where he wanted to get. Unfortunately, by doing so there wasn’t anything else left to distract him from the little lightheaded, annoyed (flustered) feeling that was taking over all his senses after what happened.

(What just happened?)

He clenched his jaw and huffed, still confused, still annoyed. His steps sounded firm and clear as he kept his determined stride to the room he already knew so well, not even glancing at the young cultivators that knew better than to interrupt him when he looked like this, even if they seemed much more relaxed with his presence at the Cloud Recess after seeing it so often.

Never, ever Jiang Cheng could describe Wei Wuxian, the Patriarch Yilling, one of the most feared cultivators across all the sects, the black spot in Lan Quiren's golden record, the most irresponsible uncle and brother this world had ever seen, as embarrassed.

The scene had hit him like a brick and Jiang Cheng didn’t even mean to see it in the first place! He could pretty much actually go on with the rest of his entire life without ever picturing for a single second what Wei Wuxian and Lan Zhan liked to do in their freetime together.

Nowadays, however, both of them spend more time over each other than away, absolutely shamelessly, with no care about who was watching or where they were. With Wei Wuxian drapping himself over his husband's lap during dinners and conferences and Lan Zhan spending every night when the other is away in a hunt or a visit to the Yunmeng sect playing his guqin melancholically through the night and the early hours of the morning to express his deep feeling of longing and pining.

(Thanks everything that Jiang Cheng was never actually there to witness the last one, being an information that Lan Huan shared with him recently with an amused smile on his lips. Because he was pretty sure that if he was living in Gusu Lan and had to endure their constant show of unyielding affection for each other he would end up breaking that damn instrument into pieces.)

So, it was no surprise that Jiang Cheng was forced to witness his brother’s love life first hand again. Because he had been a fool who accepted to have a tea over Wei Wuxian’s house and even more of a fool to believe that his brother, the very one who called him in the first place, would be actually prepared to receive him on the time he himself choose and perhaps be there to show him at least a hint of respect and hospitality that the leader of Yunmeng Jiang Sect deserved and open that goddamn door at once!

(And, yes, maybe he was still jittery about Wei Wuxian’s death. Maybe when he heard the cultivator of resentful energy shout - even though loud noises are forbidden in the Cloud Recess - and the sound of something heavy falling following suit his mind got somehow clogged and his knocking louder and more incisive the longer no one answered him. Maybe he forgot for a moment that they were in the Gusu Lan Sect and, for the first time in a long while, it was only him and Wei Wuxian against the world again. This time he would not run the fuck away.) 

However, when the door opened - a better description would be “was forcefully ripped away from his path, but that was irrelevant - the scene that greeted him had absolutely nothing to do with blood or pain or any kind of danger.

(Not one that Wei Wuxian wasn’t more than used with, at least.)

“What” his voice trembled, no longer with a jittery feeling, but with a barely concealed annoyance. The electricity cracking from Zidian danced now in his arm for an entire different reason than getting ready for a fight. “Is happening here?”

Wei Wuxian squealed on the floor, squirming on the ground like a worm on a rainy day as his husband’s hands danced dedicatedly on his torso at a tickly pace.

“Punishment.” Lan Zhan answered, stoic and direct as ever, totally impassive under Cheng’s blasting glare. Especially because he didn't see it, not even bothering to look up from his position, gaze clued on Wei Wuxian’s face almost hypnotized, as if it was the only image that could ever matter in the world.

(Urgh.)

“A-Cheng!” 

It was ridiculous, really, how only that (and who knew he still had in him to call Jiang Cheng in such an affectionate form) was enough to make his eyes immediately snap into Wei Wuxian’s direction, something relaxing in him when he acknowledged the usual playful tune he already knew too well.

“What.”

“Hehehelp me!”

Jiang Cheng could feel an artery pulsating in his forehead, they both falling easily in their usual push and dance. “Stop being dramatic, he is barely touching you. Get up and use your hands!”

“No, I can't!” His whine was quickly taken over by more giggles, his entire body contorting in protest at the playful attack as he kept his dramatic wailing. “I will rip Lan Zhan's forehead ribbon! Please, A-Cheng!”

Jiang Cheng almost had a whiplash at how quickly his head turned to look at Lan Zhan’s naked forehead and then at Wei Wuxian's hands, seeing that they were in fact bonded by the delicate, white band that the Lan Sect was known for. 

The forehead ribbon. A sacred symbol of resilience and restraint, an extension of yourself that could only be touched and freed by your close family and your significant other, being used as an illusion of a bondage in a meaningless punishment of a childish game.

Lan Zhan’s expression continued just the same as it always did, impassive and serious. Yet, he managed to look extremely smug all the same. He was fully aware of the trap he just put his husband into, knowing Wei Wuxian would rather endure far worse tortures than tickling instead of giving the ribbon left in his care a single strain or tear.

Shameless.

He scoffed. 

(Jiang Cheng ignored how he himself felt when Lan Huan let him touch his own forehead ribbon. He took the ends of the white fabric and freely gave them to Jiang Cheng in one of their quiet evenings, only so they could be woven into the braids of the Yumneng Sect he was occupied in replicating, eyes focused and movements certain as he styled the other’s long, beautiful black hair. How soft and small it felt in his palms. The meaning of that act. How reverent and careful Jiang Cheng was during the entire process, holding the white fabric into his calloused hands while his fingertips and soul trembled with emotion.)

And then those two were just playing around with theirs. They really have no shame!

“Always asking me to clean up your messes, fight for this one yourself! Don’t you remember that you called me here to have tea in the first place? Have you really lost all the sense of respect?”

Wei Wuxian only giggled harder. Whether it was because he always thought it was fun how upright Jiang Cheng was about both of their reputations and how easy it had always been to rile him up about it or because Lan Zhan now changed his absolute nonsense of a tickle attack to focus on his sides, it was uncertain.

“Don’t be so grumpy, A-Cheng!” He squeaked loudly when Lan Zhan tweaked his lowest rib (of course he discovered about that specially ticklish spot, Wei Wuxian had always been so obvious about it, crackling and squirming like crazy when Jiang Cheng did no much than just glaze over it). It didn’t take long before the new sound was completely engulfed by a new round of even more uncontrollable snickers, his legs kicking desperately with energy. “Your face will get stuck in a frown forever! Like a sour plum!”

And, of course he would use his every ounce of oxygen to tease him. Jiang Cheng opened his mouth to replicate.

“Mn.” Lan Zhan interrupted. (Was that an agreement?!) “You’re early.”

The leader from the Yumeng sect crossed his arms defensively, refusing to look too much into the meaning of the other’s words. Another scowl formed in his face. “Of course I am early. Like an actual adult that has more responsibilities and matters to attend to than to get into childish games like tickle fights.”

If that could even be considered a tickle fight at all. It was nothing like the wars he and Wei Wuxian used to get when they were kids, far away from their parents and with too much energy, time and laughter to spare. More often than not they would be rolling on the soft soil or giving the other a surprise ambush in the middle of the piers, squeezing, digging and tickling anywhere they could reach. Teasing, taunting and threatening each other with every sound and laughter. Using all the tricks and pages on the book to get the upper hand for at least a few giddy, breathless seconds. Big smiles, warm hearts and adrenaline running freely in their bones for hours with no end until they both laid exhaustively on the ground, accidentally rolled into one of the lakes or Shiejie came to call them for dinner.

Jiang Cheng watched as the delicate hands rested on the other’s sides and continued to softly scribble non stop on the lowest ribs over and over again, taking turns before quickening their pace and making We Wuxian trash from a side to another with a high pitched ‘eee’ sound until it slowed the rhythm to a light plucking of strings, lightly pressing each spot and barely vibrating there before jumping away.

“Not a tickle fight.” The Lan enlightened. “Punishment.”

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan! No! Please, have mercy. Take pity on your poor husband!”

It was like Jiang Cheng couldn’t pry his eyes away, watching as Lan Wangji calmly run the tip of his fingers up and down the others’ ticklish sides, repeating the cycle for a couple more of times, like a boat letting itself being dragged by the slow pace of the river in a calm day, completely unfazed by his husband’s increasing maddened snickers, his tune starting to border on hysterical.

For a moment, the fingers curled into claws and Jiang Cheng thought that he would actually use an efficient, honest and true tickle attack, finally kneading on the skin and letting the crackles and squeals fill the air with their cacophony. 

His hopes, however, seemed unfounded when the Lan just continued his soft touches, now using more of his nails to create an unbearable, ticklish feeling than only his fingertips and successfully pull more squeals and squeaks with such a move.

(And, if his own ticklish sides tingled in sympathy that was literally nobody's business and a secret that will die and be buried with him.)

Jiang Cheng finally snapped.

“That is not even the proper way you do it!” He did not get close and demonstrated his point, of course. Because he… (surely wouldn’t be welcomed to) he wasn’t a kid anymore and knew he was right. 

Yet, his hands still gesticulated around, antsy.

(Wanting to grab, wanting to dig, wanting to squeeze, to attack and win and listen and never let go again. To feel the taste of the victory of a brawl that is meaningless and only in playful fun, again. To hear screams of laughter and not of fear, to perform with the crackles and shrieks and giggles as the only instrument he was ever actually skilled. An especial melody of affection that needed no words and even he could learn how to play.)

Jiang Cheng pushed those thoughts deep down and continued.

“You’re not even giving any attention to his hips! It’s his most ticklish, weak, defenseless and easy spot ever!” He ignored the protesting, giggly shout from Wei Wuxian and continued, forcing himself to focus on his words and not on the natural answering smirk trying to take over the corner of his lips. “You just need to knead there for a few minutes and then he will be gone. Besides, when you add raspberries to it he’ll laughs so much that you will actually be able to shut him up for once. That is a proper tickle attack. With this, you’re just being lazy!” 

Purposely, he pointed to Lan Zhan’s administrations that now consisted in sweetly rubbing his thumbs on Wei Ying’s highest ribs, happily following his torso as it shook with the barely concealed chuckles and tried to wiggle away from the touch. A lazy job indeed. “You’re barely even touching him at all! That is not even tickling!”

“Oh, it tickles!” Wei Wuxian whined, words were almost completely lost with how much he was giggling. His arms trembled with the force to not slam down when Lan Zhan used a single finger to calmly poke and scratch his armpits, more than unfazed at both of the Yunmeng siblings' outburst. 

Actually, if Jiang Cheng squinted his eyes, he could actually imagine a challenging glint when those golden eyes quickly stared at him for a second. 

“It really tickles! It tickles so, so much!”

For a flash Jiang Cheng saw himself marching determinately at him, sitting on the ground and then diving to dig on Wei Wuxian’s hips non stop. Remind him what is actually a tickle attack so he would actually agree with his point and not poke fun at him just this once. Use the techniques that he took years to perfect and his muscles still remembered perfectly even when his mind refused to. Watch as that smug air in Lan Wangji changed to surprise when he got Wei Wuxian to really laugh and show all of them how right he was.

He crossed his arms even tighter around himself, growling harder and looking in another direction. His feet continued locked on the ground.

Unfortunately, Lan Zhang took the silence as an opportunity.

“Wei Ying is very cute and beautiful like this. Red and happy.”

“Lan Zhan! Warnings! You can’t say things like that without warning me first.” 

Jiang Cheng stopped right in his tracks and slowly turned to look at Wei Wuxian, time slowing as he realized what Lan Wangji had just said, barely processing the rest of their conversation. 

“Besides, I can think of something else that makes me very red and happy- Lan Zhan, no!”

“Shameless.”

“Husband, please, you’re killing meee!”

“Wei Ying.”

“Wait, wait, not there!”

It was true.

Jiang Cheng's eyes widened, but the image in front of him didn’t change. The other was right. 

Wei Wuxian was blushing in embarrassment. 

The color was not a fruit of his loud, unrestrained laughter, because for the last minutes all he did was giggle and snicker non stop, with plenty of oxygen and teases filling his lungs. It was not the result of any kind of flirt because Wei Wuxian took those as a challenge that he knew he would always win. It was not a make up he tried with Shijie. A natural consequence of spending an entire day under the sun training with his sword. It was nothing else. No other explanation besides the fact that, after thirty years, Jiang Cheng finally saw his brother get flustered. 

Embarrassed. 

Shy, even.

For the second time in his life, Jiang Cheng found Lan Wangji leaving him without words.

With a whoosh, he was out of the room.

[~*~]

“Good afternoon, Jiang Cheng.”

As it always did, a pleasant shiver ran on his body when Lan Xichen called him. All of his previous thoughts disappearing immediately from his head, his usual frown naturally losing the heat and annoyance as he looked at the other. 

Lan Huan looked as ethereal and beautiful as ever, the white robes and blue hues pooling like waves at his feet and around his straight posture as he wrote on his desk, probably answering letters from other sects and solving administration matters. His hair was slightly messed and he was only in his inner robes, completely comfortable and domestic, not batting a single eye when Jiang Wanyin barged right in.

Even after being together so long, the scene still looked gorgeous as it always did. Like it came right out a scenery painted in a fan that you hid in your robes and carried close to your heart. A picture drawn straight from the purest jade. He had seen it plenty of times before and hoped to continue to do so for much more.

It left Jiang Cheng breathless.

“I see you’re back early.”

And just like that, his breath and frown were back again. The one in purple robes scoffed and closed the door. He headed to the bed, sitting there with a grunt. 

“Not in the mood to watch Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji declare their undying love for each other for the hundredth time of the day.”

Lan Huan chuckled. It rang sweet like the bells the Yunmeng sect used to expurge curses and clean the mind. “I see. Perhaps it’s time to start closing your eyes, then?”

But the light tease didn’t actually register for him, because for a moment he looked at the other and another scene appeared in his mind as a flash. 

Lan Xichen’s smile growing bigger, wobbling at the corners as his controlled chuckles were transformed into bubbly giggles and loud snickers, his entire face covered by a layer of red that spread in a beautiful hue from his cheeks to the tip of his ears, his eyes - teary and brilliant and so full of love and feelings - watching him in excitement, protests that held no true meaning falling freely from his lips and locking Jiang Cheng’s gaze forever on him with how melodious it was.

As it was usual, his body and mouth were already acting even before his own mind catched up with it.

“I want to try something new.” He listened his own voice saying. Steps steady and determined carried him to the sect leader Lan and pulled him to his feet, basically dragging him back to his bed.

Lan Xichen didn’t yelp, but let out a tiny surprised sound when Jiang Cheng shoved (much gentler than anyone could ever believe him of being) him on the mattress, quickly straddling him and sitting on his thighs, storming gray eyes looking at him intensely, watching his every twitch and expression in search for any kind of discomfort. 

Of course, realizing that only made Lan Xichen melt, following the other’s lead easily.

(Not blindly, of course. )

(He sometimes wonders if he will ever be able to do so, ever again, but those are thoughts for other moments.) 

So he tilted his head and questioned to those brilliant eyes. “What do you have in mind?”

“I want…” And his face morphed, never losing its lines of determination and decision, but now being tinted in red as Jiang Cheng looked away from him, a very lovely blush taking over his face. His jaw locked and words quieter, as if they were being pushed through his teeth. There was shyness in his tune. “To tickle you.”

“Oh.” 

Lan Xichen tried to not sound too teasy, but he couldn’t really hide the playful amusement taking over his tune, his expression, his gaze, his everything after such an adorable admission. 

He didn’t really know what sputtered his lover’s mood all of sudden, but interacting with Wei Wuxian and his own brother always left Jiang Wanyin’s emotions all over the place. If what his beloved needed after this afternoon was to have him laughing hysterically until he was a mess, completely putty and willing under his strong and trustworthy hands, Lan Xichen hardly had any opposition to this.

(Which wasn’t to say that he wouldn’t look into some sweet… justice, later. Revenge is forbidden in the Cloud Recesses, afterall.)

Tickling was always a concept that interested him immensely. The laughter full of joy and the touches that were both incredibly warm and completely unbearable, together with the playfulness of the teases and the care intertwined in every note of those steps made his heart softer and his stomach flutter pleasantly everytime such bonding activity was involved. Especially when it came to Jiang Cheng.

“Alright.” He said. “I won’t hold back, then.”

“You better not.” The one in purple bit back, but his words held no heat and there was a grateful line softening all of the hard edges in his body. He positioned his hands on Lan Huan’s ribs - a good starting point, not too ticklish so he would lose all his energy right in the beginning and yet effective enough that just with a few moments of drilling his laughter would already be bubbling out of his lips. 

Jiang Cheng felt how Lan Xichen tensed instinctively under him and he curled his fingers close, just enough for his nails would graze on his skin, actually giving him a reason to tense up this time and successfully pulling a squirm out of the Lan.

Perfect. He just needed to keep going like that. Soft and light. See for himself what is so special about this technique that it’s worth giving up the adrenaline of seeing someone become undone with only a few touches, to watch them get hysterical, loud, free with the more effective and energetic tickly ministrations. See how long would it take for his lover to become a total mess, to completely lose the battle against the sensations and just let himself be lost in a sea of giggles and blushes. 

Exactly. Just like that. 

Soft and light. 

Simple and clear as water.

His fingers didn’t want to move.

That was the thing, wasn’t it? 

Jiang Cheng wasn’t gentle. Nothing about him was soft, or light, or caring. His fingers were calloused and his skin thick after years of handling Zidian and its electricity, of carrying oars and rowing around the countless rivers in Lotus Pier and holding his weight in fights since he was a child, not at all skilled in the finest arts such as playing instruments skillfully like Lan Huan or painting beautiful landscapes as Nie Huaisang. 

His hands were the reason of more pain and tears than laughter and happiness. He was Sandu Shengshou and he carried that mantle with pride. It's what made him survive after the Wen’s massacre of his clan. It's what brought his entire sect rising back again, strong and new from the ashes and fire as he maintained every building, every alliance, every battle to prove their worth with his own sweat and blood, clawing, tearing and snarling his way up, up, up. Until Yunmeng was back to be one of the four most powerful and influential sects again. Until him, A-Ling and the entire world of cultivation had more than smoke and destruction to remember his family by. Until the other’s pity became respect and fear. It was what had been necessary at the time. He did what he had to.  

(It was what destroyed one of the last remnants of his family and pushed his brother far and away. What left him angry and frustrated behind, hitting back at anything that got too close, completely alone in the world except for a nephew that he had to raise, too young to even remember his parents. It was what consumed his every action and every thought and every lashing until there was nothing left except hope and resentment. 

And yet… He was still here. Trying. His nephew was now the leader of his own sect. Yet, he was blessed with Lan Xichen. Yet, his sect respects and grows under his direction and the rivers continue to flow and the lotus to bloom totally uncaring for the tribulations of his mind. Yet, his brother is finally back and they are still trying to fix all of that.)

(Trying.)

A hand pulled him right out of his merciless thoughts, smothering the hard lines of his frown. Lan Xichen’s eyes immediately found his own, staring at his surprised face for some seconds before lifting his torso and placing gentle kisses on his front, following the path of warmth and electricity that his touch had already started. 

The care and intimacy made Jiang Cheng scoff and frown again but now for an entirely different reason, momentarily rendered unable to move to hide his flaming face until the other decided that all the lines of his expression had been thoroughly kissed and smothered enough, no more darkness or doubt filling his gaze.

Clear enough from his previous thoughts, that only made him get even more determined about his decision, not shying away from the leader from Gusu Lan’s sect when those brown eyes focused on him, plenty comfortable to just lay there and exchange silences until Jiang Cheng could gather and organize his thoughts. 

“I want to be gentle.” He finally spit, words tumbling out of his lips before he could take them back. 

The eyes crinkled on the corners and seemed to shine brighter in understanding and then something else, so strong that made it impossible for him to keep holding his gaze, feeling strangely bashful under it. The feared Sandu Shengsou humphed and turned away his gaze, again.

…That wouldn’t work. He had to be able to watch and analyze his Lan Huan’s every tiny reaction, every quiet sound and every hint of movement to map all his best spots and what tickling worked best, with this new technique. He may not be totally sold to this entire idea of “soft touches” yet, but that was no excuse to not do a decent job. 

Jiang Cheng had never half assed any of the things he set his mind to do and he isn’t about to start doing that now.

He wasn’t sure of how successful he would be in that, however, when Lan Huan’s gaze kept capturing and rendering him defenseless with those beautiful stares again and again.

“Close your eyes.”

Lan Xichen arched an eyebrow, more amused than questioning, but he hesitated for half of a second. It was enough to make Jiang Cheng’s brain disconnect from his lips and words fall, blunt and true, from his mouth before he could stop them. 

“I can’t do it with you looking. It’s frustrating and distracting.” (Mesmerizing. Beautiful. The only thing I could look at for hours and hours at the time.)

Once more, the other’s brown eyes got filled with fun and something before he complied.

“Alright. I will be sure to give you my oral report in the most detailed and thorough manner as possible afterwards, of course.”

“Shut it.” Jiang Cheng digged on his ribs momentarily, a hot flush of pride spreading on his soul at how that made Lan Huan immediately jump, a surprised squeak filling the air and almost convincing the one in purple to throw away everything else and just dig more and more until those and other delightful sounds ran loud and free across the room.

But, no. Now, he had another objective.

He stopped pressing so firmly on the skin, leaving his fingers only resting on the spot before slowly running them up and down on his ribcage. 

Holding his breath, Lan Xichen waited. When no other attack came besides the soothing rubbing, his body inevitably relaxed little by little, melting with the ministrations. 

“That is very nice.” His words came out less jokingly than before, shining with genuinity. Of course, lying was forbidden in the Clouds Recesses, however, a direct honesty was a rare threat that Wanyin was more than happy to enjoy. “Mm.”

Jiang Cheng hummed in acknowledgement and continued with his touch. 

With no hurry, he took his time to let his fingers wander, lower enough to caress the dip of the other’s hips and then back up, deviating from his torso to massage his arms and shoulders and slightly press his thumbs in circling motions on the base of his neck. 

For a moment he mused letting his hands go even higher to cup his face so he could kiss it. That idea was fastly discarded, though, since Jiang Cheng was pretty sure he could quickly be dissuaded from his new experiment if they were to follow this path. Lan Xichen knew how to be very distracting when he wanted to.

His hands continued to wander on that very same path for a few more minutes and soon enough Lan Xichen felt himself even more relaxed, as if floating in clouds, not even bothered by the small sounds that kept being fished from his lips again and again as the soft touch kept slipping and brushing on every sensitive part of his body before continuing with its path. 

It was like Jiang Wanyin was mapping every single weak spot on his torso and purposely focusing on them with tiny scribbles and light scratches more and more. 

With each new repetition, Lan Huan could only feel the tingles spreading further across his nerves, teasing and tickling them for seconds after the caring, a tad unbearable touch of the other went away, only barely starting to subside before those playful fingers were back to alight them once more, making the tickly sensations grow stronger and never really end.

Therefore, his relaxed sounds quickly began being interrupted by huffs of laughter and tiny notes on the back of his throat that were starting to sound too much like high pitched giggles to be ignored or pushed away.

Lan Xichen was so lost in those thoughts that he barely registered as the hands came to a stop on his ribcage, spreading across his ribs and on those awfully sensitive places in between them. Not until small, extremely controlled and tiny sparks of electricity made him jump, pulling a surprised, and uncharacteristically loud shriek from him, his mind and body falling too quickly from the clouds for him to try to stop its escape.

Jiang Cheng chuckled darkly. 

“Oi, what was that?”

When he pressed his lips and didn’t answer, another spark of electricity teased the spot, and then another and another and another. Lan Huan felt himself grow giddier, not being able to help but squeak and yelp at each new attack on his poor ribs. 

“To think that only Zidian could have so much effect on the very own Zewu Jun. Maybe I should have tried to use it earlier if I knew it could make you squeal like that.” The feeling of giggles in the back of his throat came back with full force. He bit them back. “Tell me, Xichen, how much longer do you think you could take it before descending into madness? You’re barely surviving those few sparks as it is. What if I decided to wrap the Zidian around you and unleash all this new power. How much time do you think you would be able to hold your laughter back, then?”

His eyes were closed but Lan Xichen could feel the other’s gaze on him, staring unblinking and attentively, drinking up his every reaction. He knew he could see how the light burn of blush started to take over his ears and spread lower in his neck, how his torso squirmed instinctively with each word. In a desperate attempt of defense, he scrambled for anything before his brain, who was trying really, really hard to not think about Jiang Wanyin’s words or otherwise he would die, caught up into a cute, very special detail about this new tactic of his.

“Have,” he gulped, taking a few tries before his words could come out with just a slight tremble on them, hiding the persistent joyful energy that kept trying to take over. By the way that Jiang Cheng’s fingers digged on his ribcage and began vibrating in a low, warning pace, he wasn’t very satisfied with this. 

Still, no one could overcome a Lan in a battle of self control, even the most stubborn of their lovers. He continued.

“Have you been training harmless ways to use your Zidian lately, Sandu Shengshou?”

The fingers on his ribcage froze, and a very pointed silence followed his question. As a result, his smile got even bigger, making him want to open his eyes just to see the delightful effect of his words on his beloved. 

Lan Huan decided to push his luck a tad further, putting all the fondness and warmth he was feeling in his words and tune until it spilled in every syllable and letter. 

“To think my dear Jiang Wanyin could be so attentive and cute. Must have taken a lot of time and practice to achieve a fine skill like this one.” Then, with a more innocent tune. “I would love to hear all about how you accomplished such a dangerous feat to perfection all by yourself. How much restraint it must have taken.”

The implications were clear, even if he didn’t say anything else out loud, pulling his sleeved hand up to cover his playful grin. 

Jiang Cheng felt his entire body, from his tip of his nose to the end of his fingers, burn, flustered, when he remembered all those times he had to test the technique on himself, learning how to control the power he could use in each attack. It took weeks until he had perfected the new tactics and made those tiny sparks spread a maddening, tickling feeling across every sense and a giggle sprouted in his mouth. 

Only then he allowed himself to try it on others. Sneaking a few electric pokes and jabs to hit his disciples once or twice while correcting their forms during the training and watching them or jump away surprisingly or try to hide their initial squeaky reaction, especially under his usual frowning, serious gaze. It was the only way to be sure that it worked, of course. 

So much work only so he could surprise his family in a future tickle fight, having now a new trick under his sleeve to put in good use.

Jiang Cheng growled in answer to the tease and his fingers crawled higher, filled with electricity while poking and prodding all their way up the other’s torso until it stopped just a few inches from his armpits. He watched with satisfaction the way that just the hint of his hands there made Lan Xichen wiggle like a worm from one side to another. Plenty of poorly concealed snickery titters filled the room the entire time, his hand shooting down again, showing his smile once more.

(Really, who did Lan Xichen think he could fool with this? Hadn’t he been the one to say he wouldn’t hold back? And yet he kept concealing smiles and holding up his laughter in every way. Hmph.)

(Nevertheless, Jiang Cheng couldn’t really say that the prospect of breaking his barriers bit by bit until he could no longer hold back his every giggle, chuckle, crackle and squeal didn’t fill him with new fierce, unwavering determination to keep going.)

“You want to talk about restraint, then?” Jiang Wanyin snarked, getting closer and feeling incredibly smug when that succeeded in turning Lan Xichen’s grin much wobblier and shakier.

His smirk shone, taking over his entire expression, sharp enough for the other to feel it without needing to see. 

“I have a challenge. To see how much of your giant and stubborn self control will save you when you’re completely at my mercy.” 

His words were taunting and, still, Lan Xichen couldn’t even pretend to feel truly threatened by them. 

Somehow, his thoughts must have shown on his face because Jiang Wanyin let out those fond huffs he always did when he thought someone was being too cute for no reason and his tune got into a mix of soft and exasperated. 

“But, if you’re already giddy and giggling like this-” to highlight his words he suddenly pressed on the pits, making a snort explode from him, his bubbly snickers that the other just described jumping on his throat and begging to be set free. The burn of his ears was back. “When I have barely even done anything? Maybe it won’t be a challenge at all. I didn’t even get to start with the real tickling and you already look so close to losing.”

Maybe it was the playfulness. Maybe it was how at ease and safe he felt around the other. Maybe it was the adrenaline of the new game. The joy of seeing how much fun Jiang Cheng was having, how vocal he was being about it. However, for once, Lan Huan didn’t even think twice about the words that were falling from his mouth.

“I am still not laughing right now, though. Am I, Jiang Cheng?”

There was a quick, sharp intake of breath and some seconds of dangerous silence. Lan Xichen felt the hair on the nape of his neck standing and a small hum of electricity charged the air.

A low, raspy chuckle that sounded so close to him made a kind of energy that had nothing to do with the Zidian run like crazy across his spine, sending all his nerves into a frenzy and his mind to tip the abyss of incoherency. Two hands laid on his wrists and started to pull them upwards until they rested nicely above his head, leaving his entire torso free from any form of defense.

His voice was really, really close.

“Don’t you dare to put them down or I won’t hold back.”

Having already played too much with fire, Lan Huan only nodded, letting the other concentrate once again in his attack. He took a deep breath and buried his reactions and snickers deep inside, relaxing his muscles and reining his expression and soul back into a calm and serene appearance, as if he was just getting ready for another afternoon of meditating.

Very well, if this was a challenge, he might as well give his best.

(No one could overcome a Lan in a battle of self control, afterall.)

Jiang Wanyin went back to a more upright position and stopped for a few seconds, eying the arms in front of him with a concentrated consideration. 

Unexpectedly, he remembered a game that his Shiejie used to play with him when he was being too grumpy as a kid, which was, non-surprisingly, more often than not. The pang on his chest that always came when he thought about her didn’t feel as painful as it normally did, not when he was surrounded by Lan Xichen’s warmth and presence, when there was too much joy and happiness going around. It did, though, gave him an idea.

He laid one finger on the center of the other’s slender palm, and slowly started to swirl his digit over its lines and curves. The muscles under it trembled and his sharp attention was quick to capture how it made Lan Huan’s breath hitch for a moment before it went back to normal, face as calm as ever. 

Jiang Cheng felt like a predator, slowly backing his prey into a corner. 

Carefully, he continued drawing spirals on the skin, doing a couple of them before going up to lightly scribble at each finger, being careful to keep the touches light and soft as he went descending to the wrist. Every single inch of it got a good skittering and a few more swirls, dancing fingers continuing to follow their path. 

Getting to the forearm, Jiang Wanyin changed the pace of his fingers and the pressure of his touch, now focusing and curling more his fingers and letting his nails drag themselves freely across his skin. Goosebumps follows his tickles, especially as he decided to take a break on the inner part of Lan Xichen’s elbow and dance, scratch and scribble on the most sensitive spots he found until now, quiet as ever as he used every ounce of his attention to catch and internally cherish every surprised, barely audible huff and puff of snickers from his lover with the breakeaned pattern.

The path across his biceps was even slower, with him doing everything to drag the moment for as long as he could before arriving at his primer destination: the armpit. His hand rested there, not even twitching as he saw Lan Huan hold his breath, waiting in expectation for his next move.

Because it would be foolish to think he wouldn’t have another one prepared. That he wasn’t as expectant as Lan Xichen himself for the moment that the dam would finally break and his usual merciless and energetic tickle attack would be unleashed upon every single tickle spot. 

But Jiang Cheng was feeling mischievous. The game had barely begun, afterall. 

So, with his other free hand, he started repeating the same tickly treatment on his other palm, and thinking that was it, Lan Xichen allowed himself to exhale, gathering his strength to keep up with the challenge, feeling a bit more confident for it, since now he already had an idea of what was going to happen.

That was until the leader of Yunmeng sect began pinching his armpit and a sharp gasp was suddenly ripped from him. His arms twitched downwards and his head turned just half of an inch to the side, cheeks puffing just the tiniest bit with barely concealed sounds before it all turned back to normal, his face going back to a serene, unbothered mask. 

Still, no small details escaped Jiang Cheng’s attentive gaze: the way that his fingers curled every time he hit a sweet spot, how the skin around his eyes crinkled when a playful poke hit his pit, and, especially, how red his ears were getting, the color starting to spill to his neck with each passing second. 

This was fine. 

Jiang Wanyin could be patient. Precise. Unwavering. 

There was one yet to be born who was able to win against him when it came to stubbornness.

Therefore, he continued his double attack, assaulting the defenseless armpit with gentle, quick pinches that felt like tiny kisses on his skin at the same time that his other hand concentrated all the skittering and dancing on the other ticklish arm. 

The longer he went, the more his tranquil façade began to slip, each and every single occasion being followed by way too smug chuckles that made Lan Huan both want to kiss his lover, let everything go and let himself giggle non stop or even worse: whine in protest. 

The thing that Lan Xichen failed to consider when accepting this challenge was a very simple one: he did not realize how absolutely maddening and unbearably quiet this all would be. 

Silence had never bothered him, of course. Yet, right now it only left him with no other option but to concentrate on everything happening around him: on the way his lover kept scribbling, pinching and poking his tickle spots calmly without ever, ever moving away. On the soft tingling touches following his every twitch. In those attentive eyes that kept watching his every reaction, every move and smile. All of his sharky intakes of breath, gasps, yelps and quiet snickers seemed to resonate in his ears and across the room like they were being amplified. There was only one thing that interrupted them:

Jiang Wanyin’s teases.

“What?” Said one taunted as he finally, finally decided to move on from his poor armpits. His relief, though, was very short when he pressed on his higher ribs and vibrated. Lan Huan’s back arched and a snort almost broke his barriers. “You thought it was over? Not so soon, I still have much, much more places to explore. Is the challenge getting too hard for you already?”

He didn’t answer, too much concentrated in keeping his composure as those horrible, unfair and worming fingers quickly scrambled to wiggle on the base of his spine, their light scratches making him want to jump from his skin. His body tried to move both far away and much closer from the sensation. 

“I can see your arms coming down, Lan Huan. Keep them up, I said. Have you forgotten about my promise that quickly or are you testing me? Do you really want me to destroy you with tickles that bad?”

Lan Xichen held his breath and squirmed lightly in the same place. Usually Jiang Wanyin’s merciless teasing was accompanied by an equally ruthless tickling that would leave him laughing hysterically, too occupied with his own inelegant and extremely loud crackling to even think too much about his words. As they were right now, however, he was just unable to tune every provocation and every tickle out. 

Even if he stopped pressing his lips so tightly and let his control crumble, the leader of Lan Sect was pretty sure that his bubbly giggles and childish squeaks wouldn’t even come close to subdue his lover’s sentences. No one could ever dream of being able to outshout the very own Sandu Shengshou, afterall.

Those hands crept higher, jumping from his spine to press on each and every rib on its way for so quickly, so, so fast that the touch only lasted a few seconds before the fingers scrambled away as if his skin was made of fire. The pokes came one after the other in a rapid succession that teased and left more ticklish sparks across every nerve. At this point he couldn’t even distinguish if Jiang Cheng was using the Zidian or if all the anticipation and gentle scribbles made him infinitely more ticklish, muscles tensing and trembling with every touch.

Lan Xichen found himself on the brick of letting his control go and his snickers and chuckles free. His arms and armpits still tingled from the previous attack and every instinctive twitch of his torso made a new wave of phantom tickles tease them, his entire body feeling just like a giant, ticklish spot. 

His lips were wobbly and a smile was finally able to blossom on them.

His arms went down.

“Lan Huan,” Jiang Wanyin warned once more. 

A single finger began scribbling and prodding at his spine, way too close from his shoulderblades too be a coincidence and Lan Xichen wanted to kick out the pent up energy that didn’t stop flooding his veins. His back once more arched a piece of time longer than the previous time. Lan Huan caught himself and forced it to relax again into the laying position, bringing it right back to the assaulting finger. It was quite counterproductive, since it made him want to squirm away all over again. “Put your arms back up.”

Lan Xichen felt like he had all the reason for the pout he showed the other, still he hid it all the same behind one of his sleeves. 

There was simply no warning before the hand on his spine pressed on and drummed in a full attack on the spot, making his entire body spasm with the force of the crackle he had to hold, torso squirming away but unable to truly escape from the tickles.

Jiang Cheng’s previous other free hand latched on his side and began squeezing. His entire body now bounced, cheeks puffed out with all the laughing being held inside. Still, no sound left him. Thoughts and feeling zig zagged in his mind in a totally undignified frenetic manner that would certainly make his uncle and the elders of the clan go into qi deviation if they knew.

“I told you, didn’t I? Arms up, Lan Huan.”

Lan Xichen kicked, pressed his hand firmly on his mouth and squirmed on the same place, feeling like laughter was about to break and fill the entire room in any second now. He managed to endure a total of half of a minute before his arms were shooting upwards again and, just as fast, the hands there were just now mercilessly assaulting his ticklish with all the kneading and drilling of an energetic tickle attack, went back to caressing softly at his skin. 

He quietly muffled a tiny, surprised squeak. Somehow the light, sweet scratches felt even more awfully tickly now than before and Lan Huan barely had any willpower left to keep his bubbly, high pitched reactions inside as he tried to take his breath back.

“I can see your barrier cracking.” Jiang Cheng’s voice was suddenly horribly close and he hummed in response to the teasy words. No matter how giggly and silly he sounded now or how fireflies batted their wings like crazy in his belly or how his lips couldn’t stop curling upwards and his face started getting redder than ever. It was only a hum. “I can see how your eyes crinkle and how your smile grows bigger and bigger with every tiny, smallest move of my fingers. I can feel how your muscles tremble under them, before you regain your control and force them to relax. I can hear your giddiness and how you hold your breath every time I find a new defenseless, sensitive spot. I know how it’s taking longer and longer for you to gather your restrain and hide all of these little details.”

At that, he purposely focuses his attention in prodding and wiggling his fingers in the place where Lan Huan’s stomach and side meet, pulling another loud snort from him. 

“And,” Jiang Cheng continues, his usual rough tune coming out like a pleased purring of a predator that circles his prey. “Above it all, I can see how you try to move your face away from me, Lan Huan. But you’re not getting away. No. Not after all the effort I used here and not until I get to see how much of a laughing, blushing mess I can make our elegant Zewu Jun to be. Until you won’t be able to look at me without feeling giggles filling your throat and a smile taking over your face. Until I get to hear every squeal, every snicker, every delightful, uncontrollable reaction you have to offer.”

Lan Xichen felt like he was going to explode. The gentle tickling continued as slow and as light as always, sweet and lovely as if nothing had happened at all, in a total contrast from the absolutely unmerciful and on point that it was every tease. Each word seemed to hit his sensitive ears and coax him closer to giving up from a challenge that he never really cared about in the first place. 

Jiang Wanyin seemed very aware of all of this. The leader of the Lan Sect wondered when did they become so crystal clear to each other.

“And then, when all of your barriers break, when your self control and restraint can no longer save you from me, I will keep on tickling, keep on teasing and keep on getting all of your smiles, squirms and giggles, over and over and over again.”

A quick pinch kissed his hips and Lan Huan let a giggle escape from his lips.

And then another and another and another. Suddenly, the room was filled by a high pitched, quick and loud giggling fit that he hardly indulged in his daily life, making his ears feel like they were on fire when, with each passing second, they only continued to grow more uncontrollable and ring louder, being interrupted only by a couple of snorts before continuing their song and dance.

A white flash suddenly appeared in Jiang Wanyin’s field of vision and in a blink those long sleeves were concealing his lover’s smile again. 

Jiang Cheng huffed, rolling his eyes at the sudden bashfulness of the other and Lan Xichen didn’t need to open his to see the fondly exasperated grin that always accompanied those moments. 

After a few pieces of second when he saw that the other wouldn’t really move, the one in purple robes tried to take his arms away from his face. However, the Lan simply dodged from his grip, giving Jiang Cheng only a glimpse of that full dazzling smile before it was gone again, sleeves fluttering skillfully in and out of his hold when he kept trying to push them out of the way.    

"Stop hiding your face!" For once his exclamation didn’t even pretend to sound annoyed, the threat hidden in his words losing any and every heat as it got mixed with a bark of laughter. “Wasn’t you the one who was all about not holding back just minutes ago?”

Lan Xichen merely chuckled. Jiang Cheng kept fighting to pin, once more, his energetic arms.

In the end, he was successful, of course. 

His lover had been barely trying, afterall.

Still, he felt a tad breathless, little from the quick roughhousing and much more because he was suddenly hit by the full image of Lan Huan’s handsome, gorgeous face. He could feel his own skin heat up as he momentarily froze in the same place.

Lan Xichen lightly pulled his arms in protest, unaware of the other’s struggles. "It's stronger than me!" He giggled a defense and the way that it sounded like it was only two seconds from becoming a screech broke Jiang Wanyin out of it.

Once again, a huff left his mouth.

The hands stopped their dance on his hips. It took three heartbeats, but Lan Xichen felt his pinned wrists being pressed a bit stronger on the mattress and the weight on his thighs shifted forward. If that hadn’t indicated that the Yumeng sect leader moved closer, the voice hitting his absurdly red ear certainly would. 

“You know who else is stronger than you?”

There was a hint of a growling in his tune that made bells ring in alarm in his mind, nerves getting alight with electricity. 

For a moment he almost gave up and opened his eyes, wanting to see what was happening, but the anticipation on the air was already stronger and Xichen wanted to hear where it would go if he didn’t tip it any further. The hands on his wrists gave them a squeeze that was both too much of a warning to be a purely comforting touch and way too soft to match the threatening tune that fell from Jiang Wanyin's lips. 

“Me.” 

His breath now teased the skin of his neck, making electricity to fly across the tickle spots to his mouth, expanding his smile. "So I will repeat myself just this last time: keep your arms here, nice and far away from that pretty face, or I will do it for you. Deal?" 

Lan Xichen’s snickering now had less to do with the tickles and, just for the fun of it, he tipped his head to the side, as if thinking about his answer. 

(If that opened the path of his neck for more attacks, it was simply a coincidence. He hummed a not-so-controlled giggle when his lover caved to the cute sign and laid a quick kiss on the base of his jaw. Good, he was starting to think he would have to pout for it.) 

He could feel those gray eyes glued on him as the silence stretched and the squeezing of his hands quickly changed to a firmer hold of his wrists in an answer of a question that hadn’t even been voiced in the first place. 

"Oi, I am going to break your legs!” This time, Lan Huan really couldn’t help the playful tilt of his tune as the snickers grew to full chuckling, his reactions being totally unleashed and all over the place. They sounded just the tiniest bit hysterical, but the teasingness of it couldn’t really be ignored. Jiang Wanyin made it too easy. “Tsk. I thought it was against the great Gusu Lan's rules to be impolite. Disrespecting and leaving another Sect Leader without an answer is an offense that is not taken lightly." 

Truly, the words had slipped from Lan Xichen’s lips even before he could truly ponder about them.

"Maybe some people just like to think before answering, Wanyin." 

(Lan Xichen ignored the irony.)

Before the other's growl could become stronger and his hands got free for the only purpose of absolutely destroying him with tickles until he took every single syllable back, Lan Xichen quickly lifted his torso and planted a giggly, placating kiss on his cheek, opening his eyes just about time to see that lovely red blossoming across Jiang Wanyin’s entire face. 

With his expression completely relaxed, the surprise and fluster successfully whipped away the frown that naturally appeared anytime he was provoked. 

With this, truly, Lan Huan couldn't really be blamed for the other couple of pecks he stole before the feared Sandu Shengsou came back from the surprise and turned away, hair falling in front of his face in a poor attempt to hide it while his hands continued to rend him immobile. 

"I will keep my arms up." He chipped, because even with his pokes of fun, the feeling that he would never be able to see Jiang Cheng’s hands getting close again without breaking into a sea of crackling snickers and the phantom tingling that kept playing with his nerves like a guqin, he was still having too much fun playing with this new side of his lover and he would actually hate to take the teases too far. 

"Feeling very confident today, aren’t you?" Lan Xichen felt his eyes widen. There was simply no other way to describe it, but when the other’s gaze fell on him, it could only describe them as hungry. 

"Let's see how much breath you'll have to tease me when we're done." 

Just like that, those hands were back, making him want to curl into a ball when, even after everything, no energetic, quick and destroying tickle attack assaulted his hips in a kneading, clawing and drilling dance that he knew so well and prepared for. A kind of attack that would have him lose control and laugh immediately, not caring at all about rules or pretenses for minutes at time.

Instead, this touch was light, traveling across his sides. It wiggled and scratched at any and every inch of skin, careful to not forget a single spot. 

Remembering Jiang Wanyin's first request, he closed his eyes, trying his best to not take the other's example and try to hide his own blushing face behind the curtains of his own hair. The tiny, unusual giggles flooding and spilling from his lips hysterically were back. 

They continued like that for a couple of minutes, Jiang Cheng actually feeling impressed with how Lan Xichen kept his arms - shaking in a far image from the how composed they were in the beginning of the game - up the entire time, especially as his pokes and pinches now deliberately focused on the most ticklish spots, wiggling and skittering more and more frequently as the seconds ticked by.

It didn’t take too long before he started feeling antsy. With all his lover’s most sensitive and weak spots being successfully mapped out so he could focus entirely on them and with the challenge no longer running there wasn’t a lot to focus besides the extremely cute reactions of his beloved, which was something he could indeed watch forever, but also something that he knew he could make it become even more adorable. That nagging feeling that he just needed to do something kept him agitated.

Usually, with his usual ruthless attacks, that would be the moment he would find himself spilling how precious and important Lan Huan was to him. How his presence warmed the coldest of the nights and his smiles brightened the greyest of his days. In those moments, though, his words were accompanied by a loud crackling or hysterical laughter, making it impossible for the other to even see how much vulnerable he decided to be. 

It was easier this way, when he was sure that his beloved wouldn’t take the chance to start praising him and make him freeze, or even worse, stutter over his words, quickly turning the tables about who the blushing mess was. 

(Gods, Huan was simply merciless when he stuttered, throwing one praise after another in a quick succession before he could even think of getting his footing again, refusing to not let the full extension of his own affection to show with his, as well.)

Jiang Cheng was definitely not a fool to even think to start, in that sweet, calm pace of the melodious giggling fit, a battle he knew he would not win.

Technically, he knew that Lan Xichen in no way minded the silence, he was the brother of Lan Wangji, after all. Yet, he found himself thinking about some other tease, a game or anything he could say or do to see which more reactions he could get.

At the sudden thought of his brother in law, an idea appeared in his mind. A kind of… provocation he saw him using earlier, if he could even call it that. 

It was silly, but it was worth a try.

He lowered his voice in a tune he knew that it affected the other immensely, raspy and paused. 

“Lan Huan.”

“Yes?”

The answer was as quick and eager as ever, no tilt of playfulness of flustering falling from it. Embarrassedly, Jiang Cheng felt his face get on fire.

(How would he know that this wouldn’t work! When he himself still felt as defenseless and soft as the first time Sect Leader Lan used his given name when he continued using it every single day?)

“Wanyin?” Lan Xichen tried again when no answer came, opening his eyes only to see the other quickly deviate his gaze, blush deep in his face, a giant pout resting on his lips. It only made him laugh harder, albeit confusedly.

“Nothing.” He grumbled. “Doesn’t matter. It’s not important.”

Lan Huan opened his mouth to disagree that there wasn’t anything unimportant when it came to Jiang Cheng when the assaulting hand decided that this was the perfect moment to claw on his belly, drumming and scratching fingers way too close to his bellybutton to be a coincidence. A shriek cut his thought process and opened the gates for all the high pitched series of squeaks that left his lips, snickery fit growing up a notch.

“Jiang Wanyin!” He protested at the clear attempt of distraction, refusing to break contact and close his eyes again. 

That is how he managed to see the exact moment Jiang Cheng faltered for a second with his words. Suddenly the redness of his face was painting from the tip of his ears to the tip of his nose and a shudder clearly went through him. Tiny pinches, much quicker and persistent than before, as if demanding his attention, began traveling all across his stomach.

He giggled hysterically. Yet refusing to stop until he discovered what was that about.

“Jiang Cheng!”

His eyebrows furrowed in pure concentration, which gave the Lan a fun contrast with the giant smile plastered in his expression. 

“Sush. It was nothing.”

Why was he reacting like this? Nothing had happened in those last moments and all Lan Xichen did was…

Wait. Could it be…

“Jiang Cheng?” He pushed the words through his high pitched giggles again, not caring how each syllable was completely consumed by his giddy, bubbly and quite silly reactions.

Jiang Wanyin couldn’t stop the way that his blush worsened at this crawling to his neck. His lover’s entire face brightened in understanding.

“Jiang Cheng!” Lan Huan looked like a kid being presented with his favorite toy as a gift. His voice was absolutely delighted, joyful and completely unbothered about how adorable and sweet he made Jiang Cheng’s name sound like this. His tittering and chuckling painted every syllable and sound in a maddening manner that made Jiang Cheng feel like he could keep tickling and listening to it forever. 

It was a dangerous weapon. 

He sticked his finger on his bellybutton in retaliation, scratching the walls and prodding the spot in a way that he knew would make the other go insane with ticklish sensations.

Those chuckles quickly evolved to a loud, belly laughter. 

Lan Huan’s back arched with the new attack and slammed back on the mattress, legs kicking uncontrollably at the sensations. In an alarming sign, Jiang Cheng saw him opening his mouth and quickly sent his other free hand to dig and drum on the rest of his stomach, spidering, squeezing and kneading everywhere he could touch in hopes of making him lose his breath. 

And still… 

“Jiang Wanyin! Jiang Cheng! Cute Cheng!”

Each word was shouted in joy, nothing like the usual calm and proper way Lan Xichen usually held himself. With his heart melting and his chest feeling just like it would explode, Jiang Cheng decided, he has no other option, truly. 

In a swift and quick movement, he freed his hands and turned around, latching on his knees and squeezing.

The sound that came out of the other’s mouth cut across the entire mountain chain, a mix of a shriek and loud crackling filling the air immediately. Jiang Cheng almost stopped right on his tracks with the sheer volume and force of it, quickly turning back to see Lan Xichen completely boneless on the mattress, head thrown back, mouth open wide and eyes crinkling in the corners as squeals and chortles mingled with his unstoppable laughing fit.

It did nothing to stop the warmth filling his soul.

Lan Huan could barely think about anything else but the tickles, how they demanded every ounce of his attention, took over his every thought and danced in every nerve, especially when those playful hands decided to wiggle their way to under his knees and scribble on the horrible, awfully sensitive soft skin there as if their lives depended on it, drumming and scratching non stop.

Well, he had quite asked for this.

Still, when a couple of curious tickly sparkles touched his knees and made all of his senses explode in tingles and laughter and tickles and snorts and tickles, his body automatically jumped to a sitting position and his arms engulfed the other, face immediately hiding on his back in a poor attempt to muffle a loud screech. 

The sparkles, squeezing and drumming continued for gods know how long. Lan Xichen could feel his entire body bounce with the force of each one of his crackles, giggling and squeaks. Jiang Cheng’s own amused chuckles accompanied his, even if the Lan wasn’t really able to make out the teasing words he uttered from time to time and made his back rumble, too occupied in feeling like he was going mad with tickling.

His body moved before his mind, once more. In a blink he was crackling too much to keep himself upwards and in the other he was smashing his lips against Jiang Cheng’s and muffling his laughter until the assault of his worst spot stopped and his reactions lowered to a string of non-stop snickers.

Jiang Cheng scoffed, but turned himself around and adjusted his pose so they could continue the new activity more comfortably.

Lan Xichen jolted and grinned in a truly ungraceful manner when those two hands came to rest on his sides, but they only rubbed firmly on the skin, the new giggles created by the scare being quickly kissed away as the other refused to let Lan Xichen be distracted by anything else that wasn’t him.

It didn’t take long before he melted completely again, his arms coming to rest on Jiang Wanyin’s shoulders and the blush painting his ears now for a completely different reason.

They separated to take a few gulps of air, lingering smiles and shining gazes focused on each other for a few moments. Already recovered, Lan Xichen found himself diving right back in, locking their lips together and pressing closer and closer.

That is, until the traitors, lying hands on his sides, digged on the sensitive spot with all their might. His arms came crashing down and his body tried to curl in a defensive ball, but it was already too late. A new round of loud laughter spilled from his lungs and jumped excitedly from his tongue, filling the room once more in a high pitched tune.

He couldn’t really help the squeal and trashing when Wanyin made sure to whisper the teasing growl next to his ear, again, voice still breathless from all their kissing. “You really thought that that would work, huh? That it would be so easy to distract me? Just a few pecks, then I would forget everything and you would be free to go and be a teasing bastard all over again.” He chuckled and rested his mouth on the base of his neck, every word rumbling and tickling. “I told you before, didn’t I? You will be at my mercy until you have no more breath left to provoke me ever again. I never go back on my word.”

And then he promptly began delivering a giant, unending raspberry on his neck.

Lan Xichen laughed and laughed and laughed for some more minutes until there were tears prickling the corner of his eyes and hiccups began ringing together with his giggles.

The very moment those appeared, though, the playful hands immediately stopped their playful assault to massage and rub softly until the leftover tingles disappeared. The raspberries metamorphosed to pecks and kisses all over his face that got him melting on the spot in no more than a couple of seconds, shoulders still lightly bouncing with the ligering tittering that followed them.

Silence stretched across them like dogs and bunnies usually do, on their lazy days.

“Jiang Cheng.” 

“Hm?”

Lan Xichen waited until those gray eyes were on him and let his smile shine unashamedly. His lover huffed, fond.

“Should this one give you the report now, Sandu Shengshou?”

“Oh, shut up.”

The sect leader Lan chuckled.

That was the only warning Jiang Cheng had before, in an elegant flash of white, he found his entire world spinning until his back hit the mattress and his hands were firmly held above his head. A weight settled on his thighs, pinning him on the spot. Those brown, crinkling eyes were now just inches from his face.

He tried to squirm and pull his arms down, but the grip was as moving as the mountains that surrounded the Cloud Recesses.

“Since my report won’t be necessary, maybe I can explore other… techniques to show you my observations and feelings?”

Jiang Cheng’s eyes widened with understanding. He tried harder to free his arms to at least have a lieu of a shield to protect his currently defenseless tickle spots. His mouth was already betraying him, his lips wobbly turning upwards.

Lan Xichen kept watching him, serene, no hurry at all. 

“They do say that there is no stronger way to bond than to share similar experiences and I would be happy to assist in yours .”

“Lan Huan! Don’t! Do not dare!”

He trashed and buckled, squashing as much as he could the already bubbling titters filling his chest, the kind face above him seeing right through his frown - in the way that he called Lan Xichen by his birth name, how the Zidian didn’t crackle or activate like it did when his master was in danger, in the softness still lingering on him, the excited glint in his gaze, in the very same way that they already had this song and dance plenty of times before - and so effortlessly continued to pin him on the mattress, winking before starting to lower his face, bit by bit.

“Lan Huan, I’m warning you! I will-”

“I love your smile.” The sentence was calm and playful, but Jiang Cheng’s voice still got caught in his throat, frozen. Both because of his words and the tiny, careful and light nibble that hit the ticklish back of his ear, barely pecking the skin over and over again. “I love how beautiful and cute it is, when it’s tiny or big,” Another nibble. “When it’s soft or determined.” Another one. “When you’re aware of it or not.” Another. Another. Another.

“Shuhuhut up!”

Amidst his demand Jiang Cheng let out an uncharacteristic snort.

An answering chuckle rang like a bell and set his cheeks ablaze, stretching his grin wider as he turned his face to press it firmly on his shoulder. The other’s breath made him lift his shoulder in an attempt of defense, only for the ministrations to change to his other ear, more praises and loving teases pouring like rain and making him feel more and more silly, tickly, shy.

(Loved). 

He endured exactly three more compliments (he had to put a stop when Lan Xichen started to point out how he went out of the way to take care and make little nice gestures that should go unnoticed because they’re not a big deal at all!) before snapping, again, with no heat.

“Why don’t you stop saying nonsense,” he tried squirming and scrunching his neck, but the other only hummed dangerously in warning, making tingles and tickly shocks spread like flames on his nerves. He attempted to control the snicker painting his words, unsuccessfully. “And put your mouth to good use?”

“So demanding…”

Still, Lan Xichen acquiesced and took a deep breath. Jiang Cheng closed his eyes, preparing for the killer raspberry that would come and finally put him out of his suffering.

Only for a continued, light gush of air hit his skin, pulling those low, anticipatory giggles from him.

“Soon, Wanyin. First, I must tell you all the endearing, lovely things about you that keep making me swoon and fall in love all over again while I watch this blush take over your beautiful, adorable face. Then, after I’m done, you're going to tell me all of your favorite spots for the day and I will tickle every single one of them, maybe using that delightful technique you just spent so long teaching me all about today, maybe testing how loud and carefree I can make you sound. What do you think?"

Lan Xichen yelped and jolted away when harmless sparks hit both of his hands, making them tingle and automatically let go of the other, which was enough for him to dislodge the Lan from his spot with a hard buckle, throwing him back on the mattress and quickly turning around to run away from the bed.

Before he succeeded, however, Lan Huan jumped and locked his hand on his wrist, maintaining his grip even when Jiang Cheng twisted it left and right and pulling him closer and making the one in purple robes lose his footing.

He then quickly adjusted himself on the bed so the other would fall right on his side and Lan Xichen could quickly finish this game of cat and mouse. 

However, Jiang Cheng used the impulse to turn around and barrel him on the mattress, limbs getting entangled as both of them get lost in giggles, playful growls and some non heated pushing and pulling each other around.

It took a few minutes until he finally had the opening he was waiting for. Brown eyes shone when Jiang Cheng got distracted, too proud of managing to get on top of him during the brawl. With a fast swipe, one of his hands captured the other’s wrist and pulled upwards. His legs did a quick word in locking themselves around the other’s one pair. Unbalanced, Jiang Cheng fell on his chest with a shout and his free hand held his waist close, body rolling and putting Lan Xichen right on top, again. 

Hair fell on his face in a mess of untamed strands as his erratic breath matched Wanyin’s, smiles shining bright. He could feel the way that his ribbon was crooked on his forehead and his usual pristine robes got wrinkles. None of those details went unnoticed by Jiang Cheng, who smirked at him with a sharp smugness, even if his general state was just as bad.

Lan Xichen almost kissed him again.

Instead, though, he took a deep breath, reigning the joyful smile in his face and the childish snickers playing in his throat. 

When he opened his eyes, there was now a honed resolutioness on them, his smile became a smirk and his face got closer to the other. 

"Do that again and I will have to put my sect’s ribbon and spells to a good use.” As always, his voice rang light and sweet, but with an undertone of something low and dangerous that made the very own Sandu Shengshou shiver. “Alright?”

It was not a question.

Lan Xichen nuzzled his neck sweetly. “Thank you for expanding my collection even more with all your wonderful reactions.” 

Oh, gods, Jiang Cheng realized with wide, excited eyes. He was going to die, wasn’t he?

“Shall we begin?”

[~*~]

Random Thoughts:

Jiang Cheng, watching Wei Wuxian and Lan Zhan: urg, look at them, so head over the heels for each other, absolutely shameless, no respect at all for anyone who is near. It’s like they have no sense of self preservation at all

Lan Xichen: a

Jiang Cheng: Oh my goddd it’s Lan Xichen hi hi hiiiii <3 <3 :3 <3

~~

Jiang Cheng to me is just aaaaa! The fact that he hates Wei Wuxian and keeps guarding his flute even after 13 years. The way that he follows Jin Ling in his every night hunt. How he was the only one to not chase Wei Wuxian when his identy was revealed. He handing Jin Ling the Zidian just like his mother did to him

I keep thinking about a continuation where, while they're still starting to get closer, Wei Wuxian start having more tickle fights in front of Jiang Cheng - both attacking Lan Yuan, Lan Jingyi or his own husband - until he finally has enough of him looking so gloom and doom everytime he does so and decides to take the matter into his own hands <3

Look, I'm going to be honest, I just need more of everyone in mdzs laughing, playing and being silly, okay? I need more of that happiness and if for that I need to write my own content and spend hours daydreaming about them in cute tickle scenarios so be it <3 <3 peace and love on planet earth

Maybe I will write something with the juniors in the future? Add some pure, playful and joyful fluff in the story. They are just way too precious and def deserve some more laughing in their lives. And Wei Wuxian just have such perfect, amazing tickle monster vibes iugtfrdefrgyu

Also, enjoy this amazing video of Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen that I can't stop thinking about.

#Maybe I got some names wrong jugfdedfgh I am still getting used to them and it's been very interesting so far! #Ticklish!Lan Xichen #Lee!Lan Huan #Lee!Lan Xichen #Ler!Jiang Cheng #Brief Lee!Wei Wuxian and Ler!Lan Zhan #Brief Ler!Lan Xichen and Lee!Jiang Cheng #Kanene's fic #Kanene's fanfic #THAT ALMOST COSTED MY SOUL BUT IT'S FINALLY DONE LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOO #Gosh. Everytime I think about Jiang Cheng I just remember that quote that is like 'there ws love. it didn't change anything. it didn't save #-anyone. but there was love and that is important.' #dead on the floor sobbing #ANYWAY DID YOU REALIZE HOW AFTER JIANG CHENG JUDGED WEI HE ALMOST ENDED UP RESTRAINED LIKE HIM??? TEHEE THE HYPOCRESY TEHEE #The Lans are simply something else indeed. how much stamina can a single body contain #Wei and Lan wasn't even supposed to appear for so much but I started thinking about Wei giggling while Zhan looks at him in complete awe #and then when I woke up there was like 3000 words on the doc. crazy how life happens fr fr #mdzs tickles #mdzs tickling #The way that I had to hold myself from writing Lan Xichen getting his revenge you have no idea- #Xichen and Cheng show each other ur smiles without covering your faces new year challenge

[trentcrimminallybeautiful]

you know if we do accept the last epilogue-esque sequence as a sort of dream/wish of ted's and therefore not necessarily canon, very funny if we then simply go "yeah, trent's book is called 'the lasso way' actually. he didn't change that. nope."

#listen on one hand #i think that like #i don't think ted actually changed trent's mind about the title #i think trent changed it because ted asked him to #and like that's especially interesting bc he even made a point of being like #'tell me if you disagree with anything and i'll tell you why you're wrong' #but he respects ted; more than that he likes him and he wants him to like the book--like him #anyone else and trent would have told them to fuck off but ted? ted asking him to change the title? yeah #i think he didn't agree with 'it not being about him'--and not bc of any feelings he may have for ted--but if we accept that him changing #the title is canon then like. he did it because ted asked. nothing more nothing less #maybe he felt he owed it to ted as the subject of the book; maybe he just respected him too much not to #maybe it's partially bc of his feelings; maybe it's because he just couldn't say no to ted #but it's ultimately just. because ted asked him. #and trent respects him; trusts him; cares about him #and that's pretty heartwrenching #but like on the other hand if we say 'no that was ted's wishufl thinking trent definitely went 'sorry ted it's called the lasso way'' #also like.... him being like. like quietly not changing it and if ted said something him just. being like #ted. i respect you. i care about you. i trust you. but with all due respect absolutely not #yes it isn't ONLY about you but YOU made this happen. YOU are special and YOU have a place here whether you can stay forever or not #yes it's about the team and the coaches yes you aren't a one man band but ted. TED. you touched lives. you changed lives. and that was YOU. #that was you and your philosophy and your attitude. #you made richmond what it is today. yes the team deserve credit too for the kind of bond they have now but YOU facilitated that #none of the coaches currently here woudl be coaches if not for you. the diamond dogs wouldn't exist. literally every single one #of our friends--OUR friends--wouldn't be where they are and probably wouldn't be as happy #you got through to people over and over again who were hurting and lashing out. to rebecca. to roy. to jamie. to nate. to me. #and you can be humble but there's being humble and there's acting like you don't matter to any of us like you didn't have an impact #like you can just leave without a trace. we don't blame you for leaving--i especially don't--but acting like we won't miss you and like #your time with all of us--our time--meant nothing is more insulting than it is humble because we /love you/ #and yes. it was the goddamn lasso way that built this place #this community.