#supposed to be working on pride art but brain said to do this

[jaekaicx]

hey handsome

#amphibia #amphibia fanart #sasharcy #marshall wu #everett waybright #my froggos #post canon au #AAAAAAUGH #TH EHE #the 'ev calls marsh 'handsome' all the time' hc is so frickin great #anon ykwya im forever grateful #supposed to be working on pride art but brain said to do this #and yk what brain was right #marcy wu #sasha waybright #he/they marcy #he/she sasha

[hardwriterdeluxe]

Economic Hockey Boys

In a small, conservative town, Alex's life was about to take an unexpected turn. He was an outsider, a creative soul who had always felt like he didn't quite belong. His colorful and artsy presentation was a stark contrast to the traditional masculinity that dominated his school, especially in the language class he shared with a group of stereotypical boys.

One of these boys was Max, a tall, athletic, and incredibly attractive member of the local hockey team. Max was the embodiment of the masculine ideal, with his chiseled jawline, strong physique, and a confident charm that made him popular among the girls and respected by the boys. Little did Alex know, but he had developed a crush on Max from the moment he saw him.

Their shared language class had been a source of both excitement and anxiety for Alex. Excitement because it allowed him to explore a new subject, but anxiety because it meant spending more time around the boys he secretly admired. Max, in particular, had caught his attention.

One day, their language teacher assigned a group project, and “fate”intervened to bring Alex and Max together. Before the lesson Max and the boys had requested to be paired in this group. They found themselves in a small group along with a few other students, working on a project that required them to sit closely together in a small group room.

As they settled in to work on the project, Alex couldn't help but feel nervous sitting next to Max. His heart raced, and his palms grew sweaty. Max, perhaps sensing Alex's unease, turned to him with a friendly smile. "Hey, Alex, don't be nervous. We got this," Max said, his voice smooth as honey.

Little did Alex know, Max had a plan of his own. He subtly flexed his arm, causing a bead of sweat to glisten on his bicep. Then, as if by accident, he raised his arm to reach for a pen, allowing his armpit to come tantalizingly close to Alex's face.

Alex's heart skipped a beat as he inhaled Max's intoxicating scent. He was oblivious to the fact that Max was intentionally using this opportunity to get closer to him, to make his presence known, and to send Alex's heart racing.

But the other boys in the group knew exactly what Max was doing. They exchanged knowing glances and stifled their laughter as they watched Alex struggle to maintain his composure.

As the project continued, Alex found it increasingly difficult to concentrate. Max's proximity, his scent, and the subtle but deliberate physical contact left Alex feeling dizzy with desire. Little did he know that this was just the beginning.

At the end of the lesson, Alex was dizzy and could not focus on anything but the smell. Originally, he was supposed to have an art lesson after the language lesson, but because of his foggy brain, he didn't think twice when he got the offer from the other boys. Max and the boys asked Alex if he wanted to tag along for their scheduled hockey practice. The team had made up with the school so that the members of the hockey team could practice during school hours.

Alex said yes, of course, and walked with them to the hockey arena, still dizzy but not as much. Alex's attire was a funny clash with the other boys' clean sporty look. Since Alex wore artsy and flamboyant clothes, he looked like a disco ball next to the conforming boys.

As the group and Alex finally arrived at the hockey arena, Alex started to question the situation a little bit more. Firstly, he knew nothing about sports or hockey, and he didn't even have any gear. Secondly, he was a skinny twig, not like Max, a Greek god. But he didn’t question it since he wouldn't be playing anyways

Max continued to be friendly with Alex and made Alex follow him and the boys to the locker room. In the locker room, the boys exchanged knowingly smug looks and waited for the action to begin.

They were tired of having to share their class with a walking pride flag and couldn't wait for Alex to become the extra resource they were missing on the team and in their bro-group. Max and the boys started undressing at their stations while Alex just stood there and started smelling the tasty air. Of course, a sweaty locker room filled with gear from matches played by hormone-filled 18+ boys would smell.

The boys had changed into their hockey attire and counted on Alex to poke around their "leftover" stuff. Just as they knew that when they left for practice and left Alex intoxicated by the air, Alex would start sniffing the leftover stuff and start his transformation.

Alex went from locker to locker and bench to bench, burying his face in socks and jocks, to jerseys and gloves. He got so hard he finally caved in and started to undress. All the leftover stuff he would put on to be one of the boys, the boys he envied and crushed on.

Firstly, Alex put on the used jock and felt so hot. He followed that up by covering his dainty feet in the big socks. He continued to dress up with the pants and put on the "gigantic" skates that were yellow from all the wear and tear. These definitely belonged to a player that used his full potential.

After he had laced up the skates, he put on the shin pads and the large shoulder pads. He continued to gear up with his elbow pads and his slash guards. Finally, he could put on the team-repping jersey that currently displayed a random number and name. He put on the helmet, hiding his blush-red face, and sealed off his hands with the large gloves.

Alex went over to the locker room mirror to see a pathetic boy in baggy gear. Just as Alex had the sad thought that this was stupid and that he needed to hurry before the others found him, he felt a tingle.

It first started in his feet where the once baggy socks and big skates soon filled out with rough, manly feet that had the skate methods in them. This was followed by his small legs growing larger, his calves exploded from the practices they had been through, and the changes just kept going up. His thighs became big and well-trained.

Alex's torso cramped before its fat disappeared, leaving rock-hard abs and a mesmerizingly good physique. Alex's once nonexistent pecs quickly hardened, and he started to fill in the gear well. The once large jersey, pants, and guards now fitted him perfectly, protecting him at all costs. Next up were his twig arms contrasting his currently good build. Alex's arms exploded with muscles, and you could see that he was clearly right-handed since he had used that hand for the hockey stick. The changes tracked to Alex's hands that juiced out, hands became hard and full of energy.

The changes took Alex's back and made a landscape of muscles, made his nether region grow and fill out the now small jock cup, and made his flat ass round up from all the practices in the sport.

Last but not least was Alex's average face. His rounded jaw became as sharp as a knife, emitting the peak of masculinity. Alex's nose bridge became broken and healed in an instant, caused by all the sport injuries. Alex's eyes narrowed and became focused and quick. Alex's once playful hair straightened into a simple middle part just like the rest of the boys. Lastly, in the transformation, the musk from all the "forgotten" clothes was absorbed by Alex, and this made him finally conform now that his brain was changed.

He wasn't Alex the artsy freak; he was a hockey bro, a confident chick magnet with a killer body. He was Alex the economic dude who always reeked from his pits.

The real world conformed to these changes, and gone was the old Alex. With this, the jersey he wore changed into Alex Benson and his number.

The team came back from practice, not knowing the old Alex, just the new. The only one who knew was Max.

 "Alex, bro, let's change after practice; you stink, dude. 

Hehe, bro, I went all out on the ice, you know me."

No more were Alex's old clothes. Instead, before him in his "new" locker, laid gray sweatpants, a fresh hockey hoodie, a black cap, a chain, and his shoes and socks—the attire of a real man.

(should I make a part 2?)

#musk #jock tf #jockification #Bro #Hockeytf #Hockeygear #Gear #sports #frat bro #lockeroom #gay to straight

[miyuhpapayuh]

four.

Over the past couple weeks, Zora and Leon have gone on many more dates.

He'd taken her back to the flower shop, and he actually got to pay for the pretty roses she'd picked out.

Picnics by the water, munching on fruit and watching the ducks swim in the pond, til the sun started to melt in the sky.

Drinks at Nicole’s, where Leon told her more about his past antics, and Zora shared a little bit more than she had, making him feel a little more at ease.

Now they're putting their own spin on a paint & sip, courtesy of her spacious living room and art supplies from Michaels.

“Thank god for low coffee tables, huh?” Leon says from the other side of the table, sitting with his long legs stretched out, painting a balloon flower.

He'd told her he was gonna plant some just to see if one could actually pop the petals.

“Right. Ma knew I would need it for something other than propping my feet on top,” she hums a laugh, while painting a bell flower.

Her legs are also stretched out, her bare feet just touching his sock-covered ones.

“Sorry, I'm not a wine person. A buzz ball is the only way I'll participate,” he raises his lime-rita to her strawberry-rita, a smirk on his lips.

“It's okay, like I told you, I only like white wine on occasion. This is perfect.” She replies, clinking the rounded cans together as they take a sip.

“What you paintin’ over there?”

“It's supposed to be a surprise, Leon.”

“Why?”

“Cause,” she chuckles, dipping her brush in the water mug, before dipping it back into her blue-purple mixture.

“Cause?”

“Cause I said so. That good enough?” She looks at him over her glasses, catching the goofy look on his face as he looks back at her.

“Mhm,” he nods, pursing his lips together. “Good enough.”

Carrying on painting and sipping, the pair nod along to the playlist, courtesy of Leon and his surprisingly good taste.

“I like this song.”

Blk oddysy’s funkentology bumps through the black, rectangular speaker that's sitting on the floor. Also courtesy of Leon.

“I'm glad. Sharing music can be nerve wracking.”

“Sharing can be nerve wracking.” She adds, fanning her canvas with her hand.

“Still painting over there?” She asks.

“Nah, I was waiting on you.”

“Oh, my bad. I tend to zone out a little.”

“No worries,” he shrugs. “I just hope it doesn't look like a child painted it.” He jokes.

She laughs, giving him the finger. “First and last time you'll be invited over.”

“Damn, that quick?”

“Childish, huh?” She squints, making him laugh this time.

“Touché.” He says, turning his canvas around to share his painting.

“Wow,” she admires the picture, “you've got skills!”

He chuckles, humbly thanking her with a low hanging head.

“I try, I try.”

“Let's see yours, now.” He motions toward it, catching how shaky her hand became as she lifted it from the table.

She was a little nervous to share, obviously.

Maybe a little more than usual, but she knew it was from all the words swirling around in her brain, telling her to be careful and have fun, not choose the latter just cause it's fun…

Cause fun ends.

Flipping the canvas around, she watches his eyes dart over her cluster of purple-blue bell flowers, like he's following the brushstrokes.

“Do you like it?” She asks, nervously chewing on her lip.

“Yeah, this is beautiful, Zora.” He responds, looking up at her to catch the small smile on her lips.

“Thank you. I take pride in ‘em.” She says, before sitting the canvas back on the table.

“I can tell. It shows in your work.”

“I hope so!,” she laughs, “I took an extra thirty seconds for that last flower!”

“And it was time well took! It's okay.” He joins in the laughter, making her feel better.

“Okay.” She nods, folding her hands in her lap.

“Can I ask you something?” He asks.

“You kinda already did,” she smirks, earning a playful sigh from his end.

“Alright, well my second question, smarty pants, is why are you closed off?”

“I… there hasn't been a reason for me to not be that way. Not in a while, so I'm kinda used to it… I guess.”

“Like a second nature, almost?”

“Exactly,” she replies, sighing to herself.

“You think.. I could be someone to open up to? Maybe one day?” He asks, staring right at her.

“Maybe one day,” she repeats, “if you earn it.”

“Yes ma'am.”

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

The music continued on as they felt compelled to slink together and sway, their buzzes reducing them to slurred words and giggles.

“Can I ask you a question?” Zora asks, her ear still pressed against his chest.

“You kinda already did,” he mocks, earning a harmless slap on his arm.

“Of course you can. Wassup?”

“Why are you so open?”

“I wasn't always open. I actually relate to you not telling too much, a lot. Nobody's hearing what you sayin’, so why say it, right?”

“Yeah, exactly. It's like ammo for people, and they become a story to tell the next person. I'm sick of stories.” She huffs, holding him a little tighter.

He looks down at her, smiling to himself.

“But people— the right people come along, and you wanna tell stories again.. cause maybe they'll be a good story, maybe a, close that book and open a new one kind of story, ya know?” He rambles, still looking down at the top of her head.

“Yeah,” she nods. “I wanna know what it's like— I'm trying.”

“I know. You're doing better than you think.” He assures, making her look up and meet his gaze.

“Really?” She asks, the usual depth in her voice was somehow a little deeper and sweeter.

“Again, I almost forgot how to speak.” He breathily says, catching himself before he leaned in too much, even though she was fighting to meet him halfway.

“But, yeah. Much better than you think.”

“Good,” she nods, feeling the heat rush over her brown cheeks, thankful they didn't give her away so easily.

“Can I kiss you, Zora?” He asks, unable to contain himself.

She answers with a tug at his collar, pulling him down to her level to close the space between them as their lips attach to each other.

Fireworks times a million are going off in their heads, as their lips mold together perfectly. He sighs into the kiss, making her swoon hard.

Pulling away first, she takes a moment to look at him.

Him and those dark brown pools for eyes of his, so soft and inviting. And those lips! Softer than that.

“Wow,” she says, pulling him back for another kiss. Her hands find the sides of his face, as he wraps his arms around her a little tighter.

Thankfully backing into the couch as their knees began to wobble, the pair fell into a fit of laughter as they hit the cushions.

Now they're staring at each other, slightly panting as their minds race.

“What are you thinking about?” He asks.

She softly shakes her head. “I don't know. You?”

“You.” He answers.

“Me. What about me?”

“Everything. What you'll show me. What you won't.”

“I can't promise to open up right away, cause it's been a while. But I'm trying.” She repeats.

“I know.”

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

“Alright, girl. What's going on?” Nique asks, as they sit at their usual spot in Nicole’s.

“So, I've been hanging out with Leon for a couple weeks now and he's making it really hard for me. I be feelin’ compelled to say more than I think I should and I just… what do I do?” Zora asks.

“You go with the flow, girl. That's all you can do.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!” She reiterates, making Zora chuckle a bit. “I know it's not always the easiest thing to do, but there's gotta be a point where you can be comfortable enough to share and know someone won't use it against you later, and from what you're telling me, you haven't given him anything past a phone number and brief rundown of your old boos.”

“Yeah, he's been super patient and I don't wanna run him off or anything, cause I uh…” She trails off.

“What? You like him? Duh!”

She playfully rolls her eyes at her best friend.

“No— well, yeah I do like him. But, we kissed the other night and—”

“What??” She whisper-yells.

“Nique,”

“Zora!”

“Stop it!” She giggles.

“No, you stop it! How was it??”

“It was beautiful.”

“Wow,”

“That's what I said.”

“Wow, how did that happen?”

“We did our own paint ‘n sip. Sipped a little too much and ended up real close.” She sighs.

“So, that changed something.”

“Yeah, it was the way he looked at me right before he asked if he could kiss me. It was like I was bare and he could see everything I wasn't saying.”

“He asked if he could kiss you? That's so cute!” Nique squeals, and Zora let's her have her little things moment, because they do matter.

“Yeah, he's adorable. I hate to say it,” she laughs.

“Well, what are you gonna do now?”

“I don't know. I thought about getting together again and do the talking, this time. I just love to listen, ya know?”

“Well he and I agree, you've listened to enough. It's time you be the one that's being listened to. That's what you're always saying.”

“Always?”

“See, you talk so much, you don't even know how many times you repeat shit.” She cracks, earning a smack to the arm.

That's why I told ma about what you said! She's comin’ to tan that hide!”

“No!”

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

Back together in his apartment this time, the pair sit closer than usual on his couch, falling into another lovely conversation.

“Tell me there's an older version of you.”

“Oh, my sisters and I are very different people,” she laughs. “I've got two older sisters.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely! Neoma is a true middle child, just wild and aloof, and Lovita, the beloved spitfire, is the oldest.”

“You're not wild, flower child?” He pokes her knee, making her laugh.

“No, you retired hoodlum!” She pokes him back in the chest, and he dramatically covers the spot, followed by an “ouch!”, as if she'd really bruised him.

“Heavy handed ass.” He laughs.

“Oh please, that was nothing.” She waves him off.

“I'm sure. So this sarcasm gene you got is one of a kind, huh?”

“Don't you think so?” She bats her lashes, just to see if it had any effect. It did.

“Yeah, you sumn else.”

“I've heard. But you can ask ‘em, they'll use any excuse to tell somebody how annoying they find it. As if I don't got my lists ready and loaded for them.” She snorts, while he shakes his head.

“Sounds like quite the trio.”

“You literally have to be there,” she adds.

And he was planning on being there, one day.

“What about you? There different versions of you out there?” She asks.

“In girl form, yes. Talk about a thorn in your side? Eryn knows all about it.”

“She's the youngest?” She asks for clarification, to which he nods.

“Five years makes a world of a difference, let me tell you.” He stresses, making her laugh.

“Aw, let her live. Twenty-five can be a tough age.”

“Was it tough for you?”

“Yeah, I went through a couple hardships— one being the ratchet ass breakup I was telling you about.” She sighs, shaking her head. “But, I made it through. Twenty-eight is hopefully gonna be a better year.”

“How's it been so far? For real.” He asks.

“It's had its moments of glory and its moments of dread, but overall it's been a good year so far. A day at a time, ya know? Maybe even a couple days at a time.” She snorts, earning a small smile in return.

“Yeah, I can definitely relate to that. A couple days at a time, for real.” He stresses, making her giggle.

“Life is ridiculous, sometimes.”

“And sometimes, it does its thing.” He notes with a raise of his brow.

“You flirtin’ with me?” She asks, squinting at him.

“Every chance I get, shorty.”

Did that earn him another juicy kiss? Maybe.

Was he grinning from ear to ear? Absolutely.

“So, how come you don't have your art in a gallery somewhere? You're super talented.” He asks.

“I think about it often, but then I second guess myself into not wanting anybody to see my work,” she sighs.

“How come?”

“I'm a perfectionist, so any mistake that I can see, I think others can too and it just makes me anxious.” She explains.

“Understandable, even though the flaws are what make every piece beautiful.”

“What are you, a walking poem?” She jokes.

He chuckles. “I'm just being real with you, Zora. I think you should really consider putting your work out there, whether it's tomorrow or ten years from now. It's too good to not share it.”

“Thanks,” she smiles, “maybe one day.”

“There you go.”

“Well, what about you?”

“What?”

“Talents. Besides being fine and a cornball, what else you got up your sleeve?”

“A cornball? You said I was funny!” He exclaims with a laugh, causing her to join in.

“You are funny.. and a cornball,” she reiterates, bursting into another fit of giggles.

“Anyway,” he thumps her thigh, “I write sometimes, which is probably why you think I'm a walking poem.”

“Really?? Oh, that's so cool, and it makes so much sense.”

“Does it?”

“Yep, all the dots are connecting.” She grins.

“Keeps me grounded, ya know?”

“Yeah,” she nods, “so when are you gonna share a piece with me?”

“Soon.” He smirks.

Might be my favorite chapter 🤭💜 they're just so so!!

Ch 5

@thegifstories @sheabuttahwrites @nayaxwrites @soufcakmistress @ghostfacekill-monger @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @blackpinup22 @henneseyhoe @awerkofart @abeautifulmindexposed @twistedcharismaaa

#mochaff #miyuhpapayuh #poc writers #blackwriters #black romance #zora x leon #yahya abdul mateen ii fan fic #yahya abdul mateen ii fanfiction #yahya fanfiction #Spotify

[onboardsorasora]

Been thinking about how Lewis and Daniel met. How Daniel became his sugar baby. I hope it's kinda fluffy, if not we can forget it ever happened

“You're in school?” Lewis asked, he leaned against the couch with his head propped up on an upturned palm, giving Daniel his attention. He liked the way he spoke, liked looking at how his mouth formed his words. There was something sexy about it. And how wild his gesticulations got when he was excited about something.

Daniel blushed, suddenly shy whereas before he was a bundle of energy.

“Uh yeah. Taking my second or third sabbatical I think.” Daniel chucked in a self deprecating way.

“What are you supposed to be studying?” Lewis' interest was piqued. Daniel had been fairly open until now, talking about how he met Charles while partying in Italy and they'd become friends.

“Art history. It's what you study when you're not sure what you should be studying.” Daniel scratched his cheek, “that or philosophy.”

“Didn't feel like thinking your brain into knots?” Lewis teased, swallowing the pride that bubbled up when Daniel threw his head back in a laugh.

“Yeah nah, I didn't feel like looking too deeply into I think therefore I am…. Or am I?” Daniel grinned when Lewis giggled.

“So what do you want to do?”

“I haven't really figured it out. I like bikes, I like traveling. I haven't figured out how to make them work for me I guess?” Daniel shrugged, shy again.

“So you're taking a break, getting some mental stimulation. How'd you end up in Monaco?” 

“Charles kidnapped me.” Daniel looked exasperated. “He was all ‘you should come with me!” He did a poor imitation of Charles’ accent. “‘If you are worried about money we can get you a sugar daddy.’” Daniel laughed freely before freezing, face becoming pinched. “Not that– that isn't what this is– uh. Fuck.” He stammered, honey eyes wide with apprehension and regret.

Lewis watched as he bit his lip self consciously. He blinked slowly, consideringly. He'd had a sugar baby before, a girlfriend experience to be more specific. Where he took care of her needs and they simulated a relationship for a few months. It was a good experience, he got what he needed out of it and so did she. He didn't think that he could do the same with Daniel. 

He already felt himself becoming obsessed with him. Lewis liked what he saw and wanted it for himself.

“I'm sorry if I offended you.” Daniel muttered, dragging his palm down his face with a small groan.

“What would you need to stay in Monaco?” Lewis asked instead, he bit back his smile when Daniel looked over at him in wide eyed shock.

“I– you don't. Please I'm not like trying to like– please don't feel like you have to offer.”

“Daniel, if you don't stay in Monaco then I can't ask you out. Think of it as my own selfishness.” Lewis said placidly and Daniel gaped at him. 

“I literally only came with a suitcase.” Daniel said softly. His face an embarrassed flush.

“Daniel, can I give you an apartment?” Lewis smiled lazily, sexily. Daniel covered his cheeks with his palms. “So I can take you on a date?”

Daniel licked his lips, “how about you kiss me before you start spending money on me?”

“I can do that.” Lewis smirked, leaning over to press his lips to Daniel's.

Intro | How they met | Lewis Signed to Ferrari | Winter break | a lil backstory | Dior Fashion Show afterparty

#sugar baby daniel #sugar baby daniel au #my ficlet #dewis #lewis/daniel #dewis my beloved

[v-anrouge]

I have come to draw parallels between Vil and Riddle! Cause I try to keep my main blog as mainly reblogs

Riddle and Vil both grew up in strict homes, while Riddle’s was more abusive in the strictness, we can’t forget how many celebrities children are forced by the public to jump through hoops just for who their parents are. Neither had many friends (someone pointed out Vil told the story of Jack taking him to see the northern lights, so Jack is a sort of friend at the very least!) but neither seemed to get close to others very easily. They mostly talked about their parents when they discuss their childhood, meaning both were very isolated, for different reasons yes, but still isolated.

They are both viewed as pillars by so many, they force themselves, they have both been forced to grow up so fast, to become leaders of their peers because what else are they supposed to do? Riddle’s parents are both well known doctors, while Vil’s father is a well known actor.

Neither can show much weakness, as they are pillars, but they also just don’t allow themselves to. Mainly because of judgment, from paparazzi and parents (though I think Vil’s father did his best, being a celebrity means very little time to one’s self, much less time for their family) the only weakness we truly saw in them was during and after their overblots.

Neither are selfish though! Strict, and sometimes ruthless but never selfish! Both are known to coach and teach their dorm members, Riddle keeps tabs on ALL of their grades! And Heartslaybul is said to be the largest dorm! Vil makes personalized skin care routines and diets for all of his dorm members! They both push their dorm members to be the best they can be, and while they may be a bit over the top in some cases, they truly care.

Both put MAJOR emphasis on outward appearances, most likely because of having been judged their entire lives, one stray hair can cause the house of cards to cascade down upon them. They want everyone to feel proud of how they look, Riddle putting emphasis to show pride in one’s dorm through the uniform, and Vil to show pride in oneself through EVERYTHING!

Both had basically single parent households. Nothing against single parents! Vil’s father I KNOW pushed himself so hard to provide for his son, working long hours, and helping Vil learn of proper healthcare at a young age! Riddle’s family dynamic is a bit more complicated as his mother kept him isolated from his own father is seems, though she was also trying to provide what she thought was best. (Honestly, I blame Riddle’s father for most of his issues because he never stepped up against his wife for the treatment of their son. Like, take your family to therapy dude! Can’t you see what is happening!?!)

Both are also SO proud! Head held high, just having that aura of authority. They know they are good at what they do, but going back to the weakness point, neither are comfortable with what they ARENT good at. Most people can say they suck at certain things; math, art, ect, while Riddle and Vil can’t bring themselves to admit that, if they suck at something they push themselves until they’ve mastered it (much like Azul)

I could keep going if I tried, but my cat is demanding play time…

GOD I LOVE YOU SO MUCH YOUR BRAIN IS JUST SK FUCKIMG BIG I WANT TO MAKE PIT WITH IT

#submission #twisted wonderland #vil schoenheit #riddle rosehearts

[burnin0akleaves]

Hey! Sorry for popping in as anon, I'm genuinely not sure if some of the things I'm going to say are going to be nice, and I am a coward. But this is regarding you quitting to post in the RA fandom. If you consider my opinion on this as unwanted/unnecessary, do not feel obliged to reply. (Though I honestly think you never feel like that anyway)

I first saw your art when I joined the RA tag a while ago, and I thought to myself: 'Huh. Nice art, not my cup of tea though.' Since then, you have changed my mind. Your obsession with TRR Will and repeated posting about it not only has changed my thoughts on your art (I've really grown to like it) but also on the character of Will himself. I was on Reddit during that massive TRR Will hate phase and some of these posts had really tainted my view. You changed that and I am so grateful for that. Not seeing your art anymore will be sad, but I suppose my own lack of interaction is to blame for that. I made my bed so now I sleep in it. Your reaction to stop posting is justified and understandable, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to miss seeing your TRR Will on my dash.

Who knows what the RA movie (if it ever does come out) will do to this fandom, but I hope that new faces might get things swinging enough again for you to rejoin the fandom. Lastly, I have to say that for me, you've been a legend in this fandom, and will continue to be one, even if you focus on other things from now on.

Well hello there, this was unexpected. First of all thank you so much for taking the time out of your day to write to me! The reception to that post has been overwhelmingly positive even though it hasn't been up for that long and it makes me feel very glad I finally pushed myself to write that official goodbye message.

I don't know who you are and I don't really have any guesses, your message implies you didn't interact with my posts a lot so maybe I saw you around only a few times (?), but you have no idea how much this means to me. Throughout most of my time in the fandom my main goal was always to change people's minds about TRR and more specifically, TRR Will. I've heard that I succeeded many times and honestly, that was one of the biggest reasons I could keep myself so pumped up about a book series I read all the way back when I was in middle school (<- an adult saying this)

Seeing people go from "Cool post, not my thing though." to "Well I can kind of see what you mean when you say it like that." to "I agree, this does sound pretty good!" was both my biggest source of pride and motivator here. Hearing you say I changed your mind just now has the same effect on me, it almost makes me want to rush to my computer to draw or write about Will.

Also, extremely bold of you to say you didn't like my art at first motherfucker /j

Speaking seriously though, my art style practically grew here. When I first joined the fandom I was NOT good; hell, I can't look past anything before July of last year still. Maybe it was just me improving artistically that helped you warm up to my stuff more. I really really hope the new artists have that kind of experience too! You get obsessed with a little guy and then your brain decides to level up as fast as possible. TRR Will is that little guy for me.

Your last words are so, so kind. The way you speak about me here in general is extremely kind. I'm glad I was able to leave a good impression. And you're right, maybe all I need is a break and when I come back this space will feel more fitting again.

Like I said, I still have lots of connections to this fandom via others. I'm still technically helping out with the Gathering stuff, so maybe I'll work on doing a prompt or two still! I'm also a mod in the NSFW server and I love that place, I'm not leaving it anytime soon. If more TRR books come out you can bet I won't be able to shut up about them anyway, if I don't make at least one post then assume I'm dead.

What I'm trying to say is, I'll be around! Our paths will cross again.

PS: The entirety of the RA subreddit can suck my dick. I'm gatekeeping older, experienced Will from all of them. None of them deserve him.

#sorry for how long this got #wanted it to feel like a chat with everyone since i dont know how many people will stick around or for how long #talking to my audience one last time /j #🍂 textpost

[lephamquynhnhu]

Panacea

Chapter 5: The last remnant of epics (Second Half)

Ending of the forgettable story (I)

Dan Feng x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS/ TAGS: The reader has a default name, OOC, mentioned blood, violence. (This is a work of fanfiction, events are not aligned or relevant to the original work)

Word count: 2k2

Summary: He met you on a drizzling day when hydrangea fully bloomed on its field. Amidst the sea of mild pastel petals, Dan Feng never thought the flowery domain that intertwined your fate was the precise thing withered with you. They said he was a dragon, a hero, a sinner, but never a person with love, hatred, sorrow, or joy like everyone else in this world. However, it was a demi-truth. He committed the cardinal sin because of you.

Note: Special chapter for 1st Lunar New Year <3 This chapter was supposed to be a whole text, yet I was immersed in writing and milking the last ounce of my grey matter into it, which resulted in unexpectedly long. Therefore, I broke it down into two posts, I hope you enjoy my story. Do you like...depression?

Devourers of Abominations' background story might have ended here if Yue Guang had not betrayed. Two members of the undead legion were exceptional organisms because they were neither humans nor monsters. The perfect duo in the Devourers team was a side study of Dr. Chen, and they appeared even before the project's initiating state. A boy was his lab homunculus, and a girl was a frozen embryo to play a backup vessel in case of the malfunctioning prototype. Nevertheless, he found another interesting topic and eventually decided to nurse them both. 

The chief researcher endowed life for his discreet study by infusing Yin-Yang cores from a dying heliobi into their bodies to operate the spinal cord instead of mini reactors. In addition to turning the children into black sheep, he implanted a conditional treacherous algorithm in their nucleus. Yue Guang also prudently falsified their memories before sending them to a backen refugee camp. Those children were then assigned to the 57th orphanage, and their registered names were Huang Yuan and Bai Lin. 

When Yaoqing recognized his malicious intrigue, it was too late because the project was running at its final phase, and Dr. Chen had already left with his incinerated research. According to their investigation, they suspected Chen Yue Guang was a Lord Ravager who infiltrated the research team to mess up with their project and cast chaos inside out. However, their assumption was a mere theory since Yue Guang had cleaned every piece of related data and disappeared as though he never existed. On the other hand, the Yaoqing's authorities could not abort Devourers of Abominations, or at least not yet. Not when the voluminous benefits the squad provided. Thanks to allocating their position at the frontline battlefield, the death toll and financial burden decreased significantly. Furthermore, those black sheep seemed not to awaken of their true essence.

In the developing phase of Devourers, the unsurpassed capability of Huang Yuan and Bai Lin quickly shone. Thanks to his sublime intelligence, Yuan became the leader of the Devourers of Abominations, who officially masterminded the strategy with their Commanders. As for their Vice-Captain, Bai Lin's martial arts talent bloomed excellently, and it excelled above her peers, which led to control of Wind Element. Due to her unparalleled potential, Bai Lin was the sole member who masterfully wielded Wrath of Mandala - a replica of one of the Three Grand Divine Weapons - the pride of the Artisanship Commission in Luofu. The team considered that invincible duo a bloodline, who functioned as Brain and Limbs. 

However, the wheel of fortune seemed to ruthless on the Vice-Captain since her illustrious expertise backfired on Bai Lin as the Yaoqing Authorities burdened her with a sinful mission. She had to kill every member who succumbed to Berserk because her precise swordsmanship always tore the accurate point of their mini-reactor as if Bai Lin possessed a causality reverse art. Therefore, the Vice-Captain's comrades could be released from the earthly hell and rest in peace, and the epithet "Bai Lin the tyranny" was born. Other divisions rumored she was a bloodthirsty monster who unhesitantly salvaged souls despite friends or foes on the battlefield.

Huang Yuan used to see her shedding tears after plundering a teammate's life, yet she stopped mourning ever since the fifth person and drank more instead. He did not realize Bai Lin's smile gradually quenched, and her eyes were getting darker with an unreadable expression until she confessed in a drunk state. 

"Perhaps I became a monster entirely. Don't you think so?" - the Vice-Captain still slumped with her head down, surrounded by spirit cans and metal mugs, which depicted a picture of solitude and depression. "I cannot cry for them nor feel grief anymore." 

Under the dim light of a cheap candle, burning wax noiselessly melted to flash a weak flicker upon the tent's panel. It was dark and gloomy, like the fate of Devourers of Abominations. Immersing in the dreadful silence, Bai Lin exhaustedly stared at her palm - all eyes were bloodshot yet arid. She wondered if the Galatic Trace started nibbling her tear ducts or if this mundane body transformed. Even though she attempted to rinse the evidence tainted with countless blood, the tarnishment perpetually lingered. 

"If I become a berserker, please kill me in the most atrocious method. I don't deserve a peaceful death." 

It was a miracle that Bai Lin remained sanity after suffering myriad hellish things. Is that a good thing to keep the Vice-Captain a humane butcher? Huang Yuan surmised he would never get an answer, so he muttered something and drank up his bottle instead. From reading the lip sing, she could tell it was Nonsense. 

"We are the marionette of fate from the beginning. No matter how far we run, Devourers of Abominations definitely meet their ends. Nevertheless, I wish to protect her smile in my last breath." - Huang Yuan closed his national secret. The suicide squad has already given too much of their childhood and happiness, even discarded their lives. In the future vision, there is no trace of their silhouette and the person who sold their soul like you deserved a better life. Looking at the High Elder's face, Huang Yuan effortlessly detected an ounce of tangled thought and elaborated abruptly.

"Truth be told, Dr. Chen algorithm us to betray the Alliance, yet an unexpected circumstance occurred, which resulted in an error code embedded in my core. That's why I regained the True memory, and I can assure you that Bai Lin won't rebel either. However, her memories stayed unchanged to prevent the information overload, and the side effect might cause her Deja vu." - The Captain said and brought his hand to touch his chest tenderly. Behind the cover of Yuan's uniform was a hollow ribcage since he had gouged his Yang core to neutralize your malicious code before requesting an audience with the Commander. 

Dan Feng only closed his eyes to inhale a long breath. White cranes embroidered in silver thread glide in sparkling glitter on every breathing rhythm as he reorganized events.

"Are you fond of her?"

Confronting with his sudden question, Huang Yuan cleverly avoided giving Imbibitor Lunae a direct response.

"We shared the same vital energy, so Bai Lin is technically the other me. As long as she is alive, my dream will go on. Uhm...thank you for sending us some fireworks, by the way."

Sunset feeding the dying light signed the beginning of RPF-910 Operation. Five remaining Devourers' members settled their assigned positions and marched forth. On their last mission, the kamikaze group split into three segments: Jia Xi held the East frontier and joined forces with him was the First Division of Xianzhou Xuling. His sacred duty at the stronghold was to resist the enemy's offensive attack and sacrificial defense. Irene controlled the airspace; her mission was to cover their rear and support firepower for the East swing. From the Forging Commission, you and Zi Wen were responsible for transporting the holy arrow of Reignbow Arbiter - the grace of Aeon Lan the Hunt to Reed Hill. As for Huang Yuan, the victorious key headed toward their blockage area by an underground dungeon alone.  

The Operation happened as planned, but things got out of control when your pair crossed an isolated lagoon. An abnormal magnetic field blocked the path and jammed all your signals. In addition to your dilemma, the designated transportation was not specialized in combat, so it barely got through. In order to pierce that hindered barrier, you had to turn on the Secondary armor, which was the sole defensive device to protect the chariot. After enduring a kilometer, you and Zi Wen escaped the magnetic field successfully. But alas, the challenge seemed the prelude as an enemy's maniple lay in an ambush while all controlling systems and supporting subsystems were incapable of functioning en masse. Their raven swings moved into a circular shape, obstructing the sky like a well-brim.

Upon that aghast scene, a robotic voice repeatedly warned of the forthcoming confrontation while error signals dominated every monitor. Gazing at the dazzling crimson alert blazed over the hatch, so there were limited options in this urging situation. As soon as you told Zi Wen to sit still and planned on leaving the cockpit, he suddenly pressed your shoulder, which caused you to stay in place. 

"Don't fight risky out there while you have comrades to lean on." 

You astonishedly swang your head toward him to see the scarlet hue illuminating his facial lines and dyed his worn uniform. Your irises squeezed when he mentioned the transportation's structure. The High Hope chariot was not meant for battle, yet it was made from an Abundance of abomination's corpse. As a result, there must be something you can take advantage of, and Zi Wen was astute to exploit.

"I felt glad when previewing its technical design last night." - He started dismantling some hardware at the center system - "Because this chariot originated from a living organism, its creator group has not eradicated essential parts yet. For demonstration, this stinger is an excellent example." Zi Wen pulled a bizarre tube from a messy web of colorful cords as he resumed his lecture.

"They linked it to the fuel tanks, and the buddy instills gasoline from there to metabolize into energy. Before transforming into a mechanical body, the abomination absorbed organic nutrition. Do you know what that means?" An astonishment emerged in the layer of thought as you recognized his alternative. However, they soon dismissed to make room for the dumbfoundedness surging on your face when Zi Wen showed a handmade steel ring that lay neatly in a square box.

"I planned on proposing Irene after this Operation ends, but I guess I miss the chance now. Can you help me convey the message?" - A faint smile tinged on Zi Wen's solemn visage; you did not comprehend why he could be that calm to ask that favor. In the end, you bitterly took the box from him, and a sting pain suddenly squeezed your left chest, which felt like someone plucked the heart out as your fingertip reached his will. That was the first time you learned what the pain is, but Zi Wen seemed fulfilled when his partner did so.

 "I leave the rest to you, Vice-Captain." 

Just as Zi Wen finished the sentence, he immediately pinned the stringer to his carotid, and the transportation sucked his life, only leaving a dry corpse beside you. After receiving the vital energy from a living creature, all systems progressively went green signs, the Secondary armor returned to its peak, and the transportation even repaired Endure Border on its own. You silently stored the box inside your inner pocket and twitched on the highest stats. A war cry vocalized when you pungently seized the steering wheel to charge the abounded enemy swarmed over, as dense as a shadow.  

"MY CHARIOT WILL RUN YOU DOWN LIKE A SHOOTING STAR."

The facts at Eastern Battlefront did not go positive when the opposite force hit hard on Jia Xi's swing, and the stronghold was in danger of falling. Their Commander ordered the First Division to withdraw behind to support Jia Xi and their Captains. Likewise, Irene hardly covered the rear as the enemy continuously attacked and kept her hands full, so drawing the foe's attraction from Jia Xi was the only thing she could do to unload his burden. Amidst those chaotic circumstances, the affair grew worse when a starskiff staggered on the dusted sky and released its firepower to the Alliance. Jia Xi's communication monitor abruptly switched on, only to find Irene wearing a half-broken mask, which revealed her grave expression. 

"They hijacked my starskiff and killed my partner, but I annihilated the hostility promptly. Please help me when I return to my position." The comms shut down instantly after she completed her favor, leaving him gazing at the specific starkiff desperately. 

Not long after you drove through their second barrier, a maximum explosion blasted midair, which caused your transportation to wiggle due to its winds. The High Hope chariot seemed severely devastated when sustaining two extreme ambiance; its engine sparked electronically, and the armor fumed smoke. Your comms suddenly received the connection request from the Eastern Battlefront; Jia Xi's features unstably materialized on the grain monitor. His complexion looked horrendous, and his hair matted with blood as he condensed the happenings. 

"...Therefore, I shot down her starskiff." - He clenched his teeth to press the outcome. Whenever a member of the Devourers of Abominations project showed any betrayal, other teammates must eradicate those treacherous components, regardless of whether intentional or unintentional. The explosion from Irene starskiff was a kind of atomic bomb that had a biological detonator; in this case, their mini-reactors played the role of activating the bomb. 

An agonizing countenance disappeared as quickly as it came when Jia Xi settled the device beside him to lean on a tottering barricade. The frontier was derelict because all soldiers received the order to retreat to the fortress, and Jia Xi stayed to complete his mission. With this strategy, they could repel the enemy's offensive for a remarkable time to reallocate the forces and accept the reinforcement. 

 "I...no, we leave the rest to you. Glory to the Xianzhou." 

Before losing your signal, a big smile decorated his face that shone brighter than the golden flash shimmered on Jia Xi's figure. A nameless daisy in front of the monitor lightly swayed along the wind's accord was the curtain of Eastern Battlefront. 

You astoundedly fixed your eyes on the screen that are now black-and-white grains. 

#honkai star rail fanfic #honkai star rail x reader #hsr fanfic #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr x you #dan feng x reader #dan feng x you #dan feng fanfic #hsr dan feng #hsr dan feng x reader

[dragon-business]

Kiryu and queer customs + Nishida’s touch

Oh, Kiryu learning about queer culture. Code phrases, secret language like in spy movies are all cool of course. But also have the context of the invisible wall, and hiding in plane site, and loneliness and fear. Kiryu knows a thing or two about all this already.

But there’s also the camp, the bars, and safe-spaces, and the relief of having someplace you can just relax and be. And also there’s anger of outlining yourself on purpose, just by not conforming to expectations.

Kink is welcomed at pride and in Majima Constuction ✊ Not cops, tho. Unless they are officer Majima 👉👉

(Nishida struggles 101: is it appropriate to cite your boss's fashion as an example of camp for Kiryu?) (Majima is high camp, expensive af, bright, leather, shoes too cool for this world)

– Kiryu, looking at straight porn: *cringe, disgust, looking away* Kiryu, watching naked men engage in the passionate manly bathhouse battle: *smiling, leaning in, tilting the head*

I feels like after discovering queer scene Kiryu’s tolerance for heterosexual stuff dropped. Can’t even sit through porn with a straight face 👉👉👉

Like, why even care, when martial arts movies exist. No more obligatory blank face sit through girl on balloon action :’D

Discovering he doesn’t have to do it (or enjoy it) was probably a relief, too. Unspoken rules of this world are weird and complex, but sometimes it works out.

(Remember how Kiryu immediately ranted to Rina about how boring the typical routine talks with cabare girls are? How tiresome it is to keep playing this game?) (And after that Kiryu told Goromi, that he doesn’t need to pretend with her, and it’s very freeing)

– In Kiryu’s brain, complimenting Goromi is how it’s Supposed to Be, you say nice things to ladies. But he’s still trying to understand what the rules are around mlm stuff. Gotta approach it right.

After many struggles and frustrations, Kiryu might ask Nishida for advice. His help is very needed. Someone gotta tell Kiryu that giving compliments is alright, and gender should not stop him.

Kiryu “gender is not important” Kazuma should get a moment of enlightenment there. Since childhood he has learned to compliment only the ladies. He made Nishiki and some other boys really uncomfortable a couple of times when growing up, and got told that boys don’t really say nice things to each other like that (it makes them feel vulnerable and defensive).

But still… Even if he and Nishiki would always talk all brotherly, and “hi, assface” eachother, Kiryu will always tell other people that Nishiki has the best taste in everything, great hair, and amazing karaoke voice. Because all of this is not compliments… it’s objective reality.

Kiryu himself doesn't really react when hostesses give him fake compliments, but gets super lost when approached on the street, or when girls poke at some unexpected topic. Like when Rina said he would be popular among men. 

Kiryu is an orphan with social issues, he would’ve loved to hear something nice, even if he doesn’t think he does. But he did tell Rina that he would like to be wooed and praised for once, not the one doing it.

Meanwhile, Majima suddenly got self-conscious about sending Kiryu a gift after Kiwami. Even if he did so much to surprise Kiryu, to train him, to get him to smile as well (it was an unexpected bonus at first, wasn’t really planned, but after the first one Majima started to chase those smiles like the fights)

Majima, holding a cue as a weapon: I came to challenge you! Translation: Kiryu seems to like spending time playing games. Also he smiles more when he is relaxed. Not gonna say anything about the fights then, we’re just gonna play some pool. We’re being chill. This can also be a lesson, right? Probably.

Meanwhile, a year later Kiry is watching construction boys flirt at the bars, and some mlm couples being all gooey: ……??? >C *is a bit sad now* 

He missed so much, apparently. A whole world of things. And Majima is in his denial arc now. Hitting on those “unwanted” feelings hard.

Is there some segway to be so at ease with yourself, to be openly affectionate? Is there a milestone he needs to pass? Kiryu can’t discern it >c It seems to just happen for everyone, and it’s upsetting.

And here Nishida’s help will be needed. Coming to Kiryu smoking outside the bar with a big sad frown on his face.

– If Kiryu voices his frustrations, Nishida can explain that yes, society places a lot of weird expectations on people that couldn't possibly fit everyone. And everyone has to follow them even if it's uncomfortable and even if it hurts, just to be accepted, not shut off.

Sometimes to be true to yourself in this world means being alone, and shunned. So it's alright if not everyone can go for it, this is a heavy life to handle. But that's also why people who don't fit in the "rule and form", they need to stick together. Even delinquents form gangs. And queer people have their communities, and tight friend groups. And they make the world where the things that are taboo or different are safe to exist. That's our lot in life – sometimes, to be ourselves (to do just that!), we have to decide to do it. Have to make the world where we can do it, bit by bit. It can be a bar, or a street, or a family, or just another person you are willing to trust.

Because people aren't made for being alone, Nishida thinks. And they can't live with all of themselves locked away forever.

It's a scary path to take, but it's beautiful, too. Seeing the world from a new angle, seeing the new ways you can live and love, seeing beauty where others don't – it makes the world more beautiful, doesn't it?

So yeah, men can compliment other men, just because they want to. It's as simple as that, and also is not – not for everyone. Some rando in the street can still punch you. But also someone out there probably wants to hear these words, because he's also backed up into a corner by what he's supposed to be in this world.

So you can make a new one, safe and accepting world between each other, Nishida says. That's beautiful too.

Nishida's touch needs to be applied to and absorbed by the best of us. Kiryu was telling Rina to be herself, but it came to be a little bit harder to do in practice. Kiryu for sure will come to admire her bravery. Sure, it's more acceptable for women to be affectionate with each other than it is for men. Raises less eyebrows off the bat. But still, she just goes for it. And it's inspiring, in a way.

– before / navigation / next

#yakuza #kazumaji #kiryu kazuma #goro majima #nishida #majima construction #this is canon now #*holds up Nishida* #praise the best boi

[goji-pilled]

Nagisa was a fucking mee. There were kinder ways to call her current situation but Nagisa didn't feel like she deserved to be called anything but a mess. The worm never had any luck in the romance side of things during her life; balancing her reintegration into society along with attending Mitikihara High and working her butt off as a Magical Witch (name still in the works) had done numbers on her. Nagisa had never expected to find love from or ever be in love with another person that wasn't family, and she doubted she would ever find a love as strong or even as powerful as the love her mothers and aunts had for each other.

But over the years from kiddy witch to rebellious teen she started to feel... things...

She felt emotions that she didn't understand, couldn't understand with the peanut brain she had when she was younger, she couldn't handle all of the complex emotions stirring within her heart. When the butterflies in her stomach kept doing so many laps in her stomach that she felt like she couldn't eat cheese anymore - cheese! The holy food of the gods! - Nagisa turned to her mother for help. After confiding to Mami about her stirring stomach and achy chest, about how at times it hurt to look at a certain someone for too long she expected several things. She expected the Blonde Markswoman to go full Mami Bear and hunt down the thing that could've caused all of this discomfort. She expected Mami to fireman carry her to Aunty Homura and see if they could devise some sort of hypothesis or theory to help poor lil' Nagisa.

She did not expect her mother of seven years plus change to place a palm against her mouth to hold back a very shrill squeal, stars in her eyes alongside pride, and then suffocate Nagisa against her chest as she gave her daughter a bone-crushing hug; the girl may have been built different now in comparison to her mother, but you don't live as long as Tomoe "Fuckin'" Mami and not have stupid strength/power. Before Nagisa passed out from air loss she heard her mother blurt out something that answered everything and left her with nothing but more questions.

"You finally have a crush on someone Bebe!"

Looking back on things she had done in her past Nagisa supposed the answer made sense. She had felt the god-slaying reality-breaking time-warping superpower that was called "Love" and didn't even know about it; she knew she was talking about the big "Love" and not the kiddy family "love", she knows herself and her family. Nagisa asked out of the blue - or was it a subconscious desire to know, to understand what gave Homura the power, the will, to survive all that she fought against - what love was when she was only twelve years old. Her mom, Kyouko, merely pointed at Homura who was staring at Madoka with hearts in her eyes and said "Everything that the world threw at her couldn't stop her from saving us all, and especially saving her best friend".

So yeah, she had a rough guess as to what love was. Nagisa never expected herself to ever feel that emotion, that power, ever in her life. But... spending so many years with people that knew, felt and were always in love around her... it made her wonder what it was like.

Then after her sixteenth birthday arcade blitz she met Bushida Nakano.

Nakano-san was a friend she made one night after she had finished her rounds of helping freshly-turned witches from losing themselves forever and telling the magical girls that were hunting said witches a very loose version of their awful truth; nothing she's said has caused someone to turn, and if they did no one can pin it on her! Really, it was Homura's fault for telling Nagisa to give the "harsh" truth to rookies and not soften the blow a bit more. Meh.

Anyways she had bumped into Nakano-san when she was stumbling back home after a very tiresome day of Domestication and Diplomacy. Nagisa remembered her as that girl in class who wanted people to join the martial arts club, while Nakano-san remembered her as that weird kid who spoke German sometimes and ate cheese that she somehow always had on hand. Now, it is important to remember that Nagisa just had gotten out of a very perilous talk between a tense team of rookies fighting a witch that had "killed" one of their friends out of nowhere. And she had yet to change out of her uniform.

So when Bushida asked if she was headed to the cheesecake factory in the Netherlands the tenacious girl instantly replied "Don't you have gum to kick and asses to chew?"

And it was history from there.

Bushida had decided to heckle the Sweets Girl into explaining everything about her costume, about the weird as fuck trumpet that dangled from her loose fingers, about the cheese she carried - seriously why were people so freaked about the cheese!? Eventually, Nagisa broke and told her mostly everything; she didn't mention anything about domestication or witch hood or why she wore only wore a poncho-sweater over a crop top with stockings and a weird tailcoated skirt. All that Bushida had to know was that Nagisa "Tomoe" von Seckendorff was a Magical Girl TM and saved lives.

and that should've been all.

But no, their family was just fucking cursed or something.

There came a point when Nagisa stopped seeing Bushida-san as Bushida-san and more as Nakano-san. Then it followed into her seeing Nakano-san just as her close friend Nakano. Then Nakano turned into "that dork that liked action rom-coms" and "that girl who would fistfight yakuza like her god-fathers say they did back in '88" and into "that spunky girl that I would kill gods for". And Nagisa knew that she meant it, that she would go fight literal gods and demons if it meant making Nakano happy and safe and loved.

She swore to never tell Aunty about how strong her feelings were.

They had started dating for roughly over half a year, their awkward first dates turning into their usual back and forth nonsense from their first year in high school. Nagisa was happy. Happier than she had been with her other flings and dates from over the years. She felt as if she finally knew what it was like to truly be in love with another person, to love another person so much that you'd do anything for them, and to be loved by someone who wasn't already supposed to love her.

Then it all came crashing down in April.

They had just left a silly little action movie based around the Bubble Period when the world shifted around them. Reality warped and soon the two found themselves within a labyrinth of sky and clouds, the floor beneath disappearing and dooming them to a very painful demise. Had the floor not been sky and actually in fact crystal clear water that reflected the sky. Nagisa had been on edge, they tried to find some sort of path that lead far away from wherever the Witch laid waiting, but could only find more and more cloud. No familiars ever came to harm them, nor did either of them notice any familiars existing in the first place; it wasn't unheard of for labyrinths to be devoid of everything but the Witch herself, hell Charlotte sent out Pyotrs out in the world just to find her cheese - which, okay, she figured out her peabrain's metaphor linking cheese to love a long time ago but she still retained that kids were stupid and she was a stupider kid.

Burning a wish on a cheesecake just for some petty vindication against her dying birth mother, god...

When Nagisa and Nakano finally found the center of the labyrinth they were left dumbfounded. The Witch was some sort of store-brand accurate angel monstrosity that hurt to look at, and several Magical Girls were fighting a losing battle as they all slowly succumbed to the thing.

The Witch of the Heavens, it was in her nature to bestow purity and order to the sodom below her.

Nagisa didn't waste a second in blowing a large soundproof bubble around her Nakano and throwing herself into battle. She tried her best (read: could've done better) in communicating with the eye-sore but all that came back were runes of white noise and very sharp feathers. She didn't know how long she fought the Witch, but she knew that it was all coming down to an end for the reject angel. Suddenly the angel extended one of its wings forward and tried to skewer the Sweets Girl. Nagisa dodge the limp attack expertly but didn't notice that she wasn't the target. The wing kept soaring through the air and popped the barrier that protected Nakano and wrapped itself around her.

Nagisa saw red. Nagisa screamed. Nagisa heard bones pooping and smelt skin searing away, the wing glowing a holy bright light as it tried to burn her friend to ash. Nagisa almost blacked out from rage.

Charlotte was angry.

Her skin turned a porcelain white, eyes swirling in on themselves as they became dull greens and oranges. Charlotte's mouth screwed shut into such a fierce scowl, sharp teeth poking through the doll's puckered lips. And then she let out a fierce screech.

Lunging for the wing Charlotte threw out her hand and it turned into her true self, the Sweets Witch extending from the black polka-dotted glove and reaching for the wing with a gaping maw. Charlotte bit down hard against the wing and it shattered into feathers of light. Nakano scrambled backward, far away from the giant worm that feasted on an angel's wing. Charlotte turned to face the Witch and unleashed her wrath. How dare this creature, how dare this thing hurt something that belonged to her!?! How dare it try to make Charlotte suffer again, how dare it try to make her alone and unloved in this cruel hell of a world!!!

Trumpet abandoned the Sweets Witch leaped onto the angel and latched onto whatever physical mass she could. Charlotte bit down to hold herself onto the thing and transformed her arms into more mouths. Her hands bit into every single wing it could as she made her way through to the Grief Seed in the Witch's core; the ball of light that was surrounded by the eyes and wings and stone and everything. It was over in an instant, Charlotte eating her way through the Witch and clutching the Seed in her mouth. She so desperately wanted to eat the Seed, to kill the thing that hurt Nakano, but she held herself back; it was hard but she did, she wouldn't be a murderer.

As the labyrinth faded, the evening sky painted Nakano in a beautiful array of reds and oranges on the sidewalk while Nagisa was left hunched over in the dark of the alleyway behind the theater they were in long ago. Making herself look decent Nagisa stood up straight and (tried to) swagger back to her date. Only to halt when she heard four horrible words come out of her Nakano's mouth.

"Get away from me!"

Nagisa stopped just before the mouth of the alley, looking at her girlfriend's face. Nakano was deathly pale and huddled into herself, whimpers of pain leaking out of her mouth as her eyes poured rivers of tears down her face and onto the pavement. She tried to take a step forwards when Nakano pushed herself up off the ground, limp leg noticeable as she tried to get into a fighting stance with one arm wrapped around her chest.

She was confused, her girlfriend was seriously hurt and thought that there was still something out there to hurt them. That's what Nagisa thought at least. Shifting out of her uniform and back into her date outfit - a frilly pink polka-dot blouse with jean suspenders and sneakers to match Nakano's own stripped dress, shorts and boots - Nagisa tucked the Grief Seed away and tried to calm her friend down like a wild animal.

"Ka-chan, it's okay. We're both safe now. I took care of the Witch and we're alive now." She said all this with a soft voice, easing her way towards Nakano-san. It didn't work, Nakano-san had stumbled back into the street and kept a shakey eye on Nagisa as she looked out for traffic.

"Liar! Y-You aren't Nagisa, you're a w-witch!" The frightened girl howled out into the streets, the lonely passerbys barely giving them glances as they went home and as the sun set. "T-T-That thing that c-Came outta yer mouth! And it turned int-ah your hands! You are-tch aren't human!"

Finally, it made sense to Nagisa. A while back when she saved Nakano from a Witch that she stumbled upon during the winter she asked the Sweets Girl what Witches could and would be able to do to people. She broke down how they'd do anything to unleash their despair onto humanity, and would even leave their protective labyrinths if they were especially capable of doing it without any sort of proxy.

"So... could a witch leave and, like, impersonate someone?"

"Mmmm... I'unno. Maybe? Never met one that could shapeshift before."

"Eh!? But they all look so weird and ugly and freaky, and you've told me they can do lots'a things to people. I guess I just thought..."

"Hey, don't you go worry your silly lil' head 'bout that! I can handle myself, and besides. I'm not gonna let something like that get the best of me!"

"Ka-chan, it's still me." Nagisa patted her chest, fear winning over her attempts at calm and peace. "I'm still Nagisa-chan, I'm still your Nagi-chan!" She tried to reach a hand out and hug her girlfriend, but Nakano just stumbled ever further back before running down the street and screaming at her. The last words she heard from her struck her in the heart.

"S-Stay away monster! Give me back Nagi-chan!"

And so that's how Bebe found herself on the rooftop of the Mitikihara Hospital. Wallowing in her labyrinth in the place where her life was supposed to end so many years ago.

...

...

In the Kaname-Akemi Household (name-pending) was Akemi Homura sitting in the living on her favorite recliner with her favorite book and her favorite person sitting on her lap. Kaname Madoka had brought her own book but had dozed off into the land of dreams. The Primaria Tre (Mami's idea for their team name) were sitting at the living room's table, working hard to solve the 10,000-piece puzzle Hitomi gifted Oktavia last winter. At the dining table were Tatsuya and Yuma each doing their respective winter projects.

Suddenly a chill ran through all the magical girls plus one witch and one sleepy girl. Yuma dashed to the living and stared at her family, much to Tatsuya's surprise and asked,

"Where's Nagisa?"

...so this was supposed to be a ficlet... this is already five pages long... and this was the setup! tune in next time for part two! where things get worse and I finally write kyubey for the first time in forever.

／人◕ ‿‿ ◕人＼

I have to admit I read this earlier at like 3 am when I was accidently awake and was "holy shit holy shit holy shit-"

#felix answers #domestic witches #i wanted to reply to this ask then #but fell asleep again #BFJSHDKAHS #BUT IM HYPED #io3

[bonnie-is-bumbling]

Man, I do not feel adequate today.

I always seem to deal with some shame for my existence. I always assume myself to be too annoying, childish, needy. And some days, it just hits harder than others.

As I analyze the way I feel, I still feel like I'm in the exact same place- The youngest. The little kid that's supposed to be thrilled by barbie dolls and crayons to scribble with. All of my artwork or writing, I look at and feel like if I show others, I'm going to get patted on the head and told "Wow, you did great!" But in that way that one does when a toddler hands you an unintelligible scribble.

I don't know if that's my brain being stuck in those shoes (if so, I feel like it has been since I was ACTUALLY so little) or if I'm just a fool.

I know that in reality, nobody really thinks about it too much. I'm the overthinker and always have been. I cant show things I create to my own family. And not because they insult it in any way, shape, or form. But because I feel, deep down, like everyone else sees a childish scribble where I see an actual (quality varying, lol) work of art or literature. Even if I know that the opposite is true.

This doesn't apply to just art or writing. It's anything I do, anywhere I go. I don't even have particular names or faces that come up, it's like an instinctual "Oh wow look at da baby! Let's applaud this very basic thing to make them feel like a big kid!"... And it makes me embarrassed to show my works at all! I've suppressed so many ideas, written stories to never be seen (even though there's nothing wrong with said stories.)

What even is this? Shouldn't I be happy about that sort of feeling? Why do I feel like I'm reduced to a measly child any time I think of showing my work? It literally almost feels like everyone is older than me, looking down on me; Those that are younger than myself included. Why do I look at my 5 year old nephew as though he were wiser and more experienced than I? Why do I feel like I just can't do anything for myself, and have to ask for permission to do things? Like I need the approval of those 'above me' to make a move? Why don't I feel like an equal, ever in my life?

I really don't have to. And I'm not sure if that's a normal way to feel, I don't know of it's an indicator of me being a horrible human being somehow, or if maybe there's something behind it. Maybe I'm just a spoiled brat that was always spoiled. Hell if I know. I'd love to know if this has some kind of root I can look into. I just want to be able to take pride in what I do, and not be too ashamed to share anything anymore.

I'm really trying to push myself to share things. Hell, even sharing how I feel is tough.

#my thougts #ramblings #ugh #mental health #rant #confusion #why is this me #open questions #does anyone know #what is this #psychology #dammit brain #why brain #bumbling #annoying #writing #artwork #this is embarassing #i hate my brain

[dnalkaline]

I don't even know why the fuck I try anymore.

It feels like everything important to me always feels the need to be ripped out in the worst way possible.

Every time I try saving up for a vacation or to go to an event I've always wanted to go to, I end up having some kind of freak accident or health issue that makes me pay out the ass from the money I saved up and then if I can still go I basically have to walk around broke.

And the worst part is, after I nearly died because my dad refuses to ever do checkups on his car and assured me the brakes etc. were completely fine (despite that thing being a death trap), he keeps refusing responsibility and keeps going "it was fine :/// idk what happened" despite literally everyone who looked at the car report said that if I tried to drive home that night, my car WOULD have had the tie rod snap and the rusted breaks would have immediately caused me to spin out of control on the highway and probably kill me. It's like he doesn't even care. He didn't have any reaction when he was told about this. I almost started crying because he's supposed to be the "good" parent but... idk. It always feels like people SAY they care about me just to make themselves feel better but people rarely actually SHOW they do.

Being in poverty would be enough but my life just feels the need to be gut punch after gut punch. I lose inheritance that was promised to me that would immediately make my life insanely easier at the drop of a hat just bc the person (has repeatedly) decided to change their mind and sell it for themself or give it to someone else. Everyone I've ever truly loved IRL as family has been taken from me and released from this mortal coil. And now with my brain disease I'm starting to lose the only thing I ever really prided myself on- my mind.

After the pandemic made everyone's finances eat shit, nobody wants my art anymore (right when I was starting to gain some traction!) and I have to spend my time bending over backwards for a bunch of really demanding gig work that I didn't even really have a choice in doing.

I'm too disabled to work a "real" job but too mentally competent that I got denied and even if I do EVENTUALLY win it could take years to get SSI and my rights as a human being will be limited. I used to try to put my foot in the door for like webcomic startups and shit like that as a contracted worker and every single time I get hired the company goes under and I barely have anything to show for it. I want to submit to the local art gallery to maybe get my works out there and possibly find someone who wants to buy them but there's a fee to it and I just. idk.

I keep trying to make myself feel better and less "useless" by donating old stuff or giving it to friends who might need it. And usually this helps but. I don't know. I don't even know how to talk to people about this because to be honest my therapist is kind of stumped on how to help me now. Like she's trying her best and she does have good advice it's just there's only so much you can do when there are circumstances out of your control beating the shit out of you constantly. And I can't afford to be sent to the mental hospital and even if I WAS, the last time I was there was so traumatizing due to the racism and negligence that I don't want to go back.

Maybe it would be better if I had some IRL friends to hang out with more but most of the guys I would hang out with either committed suicide or I stopped talking to them because I realized that I wasn't being treated very well. I don't know what to do. My therapist assures me I'm constantly just being dealt a bad hand of cards and I'm doing my best but I don't care anymore. I hate being alive. I hate my life so much.

I don't even know why the fuck I'm writing this. I guess I just want it to be known *somewhere* that I haven't been very well for a very long time and if I just randomly disappear one day you can all probably guess what happened. I'm not going to do anything stupid tonight but I've been fighting the urge near-daily for the past few months while trying to pretend I can keep making it through. I don't know. I just want everything to stop I wish miracles were real. I hate how you can fight depression and suicide ideation for over a decade and it feels like it's never gets much better.

It doesn't help I keep having this OCD fear that I'm going to die before my next birthday and all the stuff lately is freaking me out.

I'm crying too hard to keep typing and looking at what im typing so idk if you read all this thanks ill probably feel better after a nap or something but everything just feles so fucking exhausting

#vent post / / #suicide mention cw / / #null rambles

[theyearthirtytwo]

Day 2.

Knowing what to write about and sitting down to actually write are often, for me, two very different things. I suppose maybe that is the whole point behind Morning Pages a la The Artist's Way and warm-ups in general. Basketball games. Doodling. Vocal exercises. That first morning cup of coffee. We often need a little cajoling to get our best work. (full transparency, I googled how to spell "cajoling" to make sure I got it right. I did. I am irrationally proud.)

So much of the "art" we see on the internet is just shitty first drafts. It's embarrassing, I think, that we've created a society of instant gratification that no longer allows creatives to actually create without near constant production. We ask for more, more, more until there is nothing more to give. That is what happened for me and We Live Here Now. You simply cannot create top-tier prose day after day, month after month, and expect to like even a quarter of what you produce. Or at least, I believe anyone with a [not so] healthy dose of imposter syndrome can not.

When I decide to look at my twenties as a shitty first draft, it feels better. It also is tinged with an ounce or two of regret that I "wasted" an entire decade mostly fucking up, but it's true nonetheless. (I had no idea nonetheless was all one word. Back to standard pride level.) My twenties were, without question, my shitty first draft. I'm still figuring out how to edit out the worst parts.

I am sure my therapist would encourage me to not think of it as "editing out" but rather, lessons learned - the shit that doesn't get to make it to the next draft. And sure, that's fine.

I have this idea about myself that continues to be proven inaccurate. In my version of self-loathing, I believe that everyone knows what a mess I am/was/have-been/will-be. Over the weekend I attended a party at a friend's house in Portland that would prove this theory unequivocally false. I've been friends with this person for close to a decade (wow), meaning - through the majority of my messiest years - and have met/known/loved many of the other dear people in his life during that time. Within moments of stepping foot on the lawn I was swooped into not one, not two, but three massive hugs and gleeful conversations. I didn't make to to the back yard for another 40 minutes....

AHHHHH!!!!! I JUST SAW A QUAIL FAMILY ON THE LAWN!!!!!!!! QUAILS ARE SO CUTE!!!!!!!!!

ok, back to how many people love me.

After the party, my friend texted me how wonderful it was to have me there and how the general feedback he's been receiving since has been "great party, it was SO GOOD to see Sharlyn." Being loved is a pretty special thing.

Not one of those people said "Sharlyn was pretty drunk, but it was still fun" or "She kind of overshared" or "She's put on a few lbs" or "I can't believe she's still not happy" - Probably none of them were even thinking it. Almost certainly none of them were even thinking it.

If I can learn to love myself like my friends do - for the joy and comfort I bring, for the loving and accepting space I leave for people, for the complete lack of judgement or expectation I put on others, and if I can learn to accept the human parts of me that have previously created a "pillar of fire, shooting directly from my chest" (call back), maybe this decade I will be able to create (produce, yuck) the work, the live, the me that I can be truly proud of.

I deleted the Zillow app from my phone. I also deleted Instagram, Pinterest, and Reddit. The applications I onced used to be anywhere else mentally are gone. Replaced with a silence and a discomfort that forces me to be right here, right now. I hate it.

It's probably great for my relationship with the kiddo that I nanny. I imagine it's great for my brain and cognitive function. I can already tell that it's great for my mental health.

I've wanted to redownload Zillow approximately 25 times already (it's been two days), but I am sticking it out for a few reasons.

Reason #1: It's Just Not Helpful

It's not helpful to imagine all of the other places I "could" be or "might want" to be instead of the place where I am. I am in no position to be purchasing a home at the moment and do not even know if I would like these homes beyond the internet (recent research - driving by homes in Salem and Eugene I was convinced that I would love, but didn't - tells me I would not) and even if I was in a position to buy a home (again, I am not), my partner and I are in the process of figuring out some very big things - including where we ultimately want to live together. This future-tripping-game-of-imaginary-house I am playing WITH MYSELF just isn't helpful.

Do I freaking love imagining how I would pretend decorate or renovate a home? Sure. Will I return to my lifelong-favorite-waste-of-time-and-creative-energy again? Without a doubt. But for now, it's unhelpful. So away it goes.

Reason #2: The Gift of Presence

In the era of the internet, being physically and mentally present is fucking hard. It's also really fucking important. Not having these freshly updated apps readily available inside my pocket computer any time of day and night requires me to notice when I would like to numb via escapism (and, unfortunately, how often) and highly encourages me to do anything else - focus on my breath, notice the nature around me, give myself comfort, give myself grace. So I'll start there. I'll notice when I am feeling the need to escape and I'll change my habits to not require the escapism I seek. How boring.

The act of actually re-downloading the apps wouldn't take very long, but the moral failing and personal disappointment I would feel in myself if I did so wouldn't be worth it.

So, for now, I have my feelings, my thoughts, my breath, and my body. I have the right here and the right now.

Let's hope that's enough.

[absolutepokemontrash]

Kid!MC/Teen!MC Needs someone to go to Parent Teacher Interviews for Them and Guess Who’s Available?

Masterlist

The brothers being bad babysitters/dad figures is something I love very much, I bet you all could already tell that considering the Fic/Headcanon series I have going on. I would just like you all to know that Asmo’s section is based on a true story. Anyhoo~ onto the Headcanons!

Why? Why Him? (Lucifer)

Is MC really dumb, or are they just a kid? No one knows.

Obviously MC asked Lucifer, the only competent one in the house, the most professional, hard-working, controlled-

MC got their things together and gave Lucifer the run down on their teacher(s) before Lucifer got too absorbed in extolling his own virtues in an intense internal monologue.

News flash Lucifer, this isn’t a Shakespeare play, you can’t have a dramatic monologue or soliloquy about how great you think you are

At the actual meeting, if MC is in there, no, MC is not actually in there. Lucifer will speak to the teacher as if MC isn’t there. As someone whose not a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down kind of person, Lucifer expects the teacher to behave the same and not spare MC’s feelings.

Feelings do not deserve to be spared if MC is being a nuisance. No fake-kid/little sibling of his gets to be the class idiot!

If MC’s doing very well academically, he expects to be pointed at projects or tests they’ve done and the grade on it. It really makes him proud to see MC doing well.

Even if they’re not the best academically, if they’re not failing and they’re doing well in other aspects of school, he’s proud.

If MC really struggles in a school environment and just hates it there but they’re still keeping their head above water, they get a head pat of approval.

On the drive home, if MC came with him to the parent teacher interviews and everything went well, he just happens to turn onto the street that has a Baskin Robin’s or something of that caliber.

If they didn’t go, he picks something up on the way back.

No fun treats if MC is being a disruptive little heathen in class, no kid under Lucifer’s care is going to be the class Mammon. Not on his watch.

MC was busily stuffed their face with the treats that were gifted to them. Lucifer had to hold himself back from rolling his eyes at the kid’s blatant disregard for basic table manners when it came to sweets.

“Is everything the teacher said true?” Lucifer asked, MC looked up at him with a smile.

“Yep!”

“Good, good.” Lucifer held out his hand and patted them on the head. “You’re doing well. Keep it up.”

“Geez,” MC mumbled as they continued to stuff their face. “Can you get anymore affectionate?”

“Don’t be sarcastic, MC. It’s uncouth.” Lucifer said sternly. “Besides, I’ll have you know that many people enjoy my headpats. I’m quite affectionate.”

“Really now? Name one person.”

Lucifer opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. He and MC stared each other down, one pair of eyes much more nervous than the other. Spoiler, MC was still calmly eating their treat as they maintained eye contact.

“…Cerberus.”

“If you’re reaching for Cerberus, you’ve already lost.”

…his pride was under attack. Right in front of his desert…

“You’re grounded.”

“Worth it.”

*Rides by on a Skateboard* School is for NERDS (Mammon)

Pff! Stupid human! He’s not goin’ to some lame parent teacher conference-

Wait! What’s with that face?! Ugh… fine. MC’s gone and forced his hand with those damn puppy dog eyes…

Mammon does not dress up for this event, he dresses like he would every day, maybe throw on some designer stuff to let all the parents and teachers know he’s hot shit.

If MC goes with him, he pulls up in his beloved car and takes up two parking spaces (pure evil.). Every parent present already hates him, but at least the other kids there are impressed with MC’s sweet ride. MC would have gained some street cred if Mammon hadn’t managed to trip up the stairs to the classroom in front of everyone.

He’ll act way to casual with the teacher, turning the parent chair backwards and sitting down so he can lean on the seat.

Mammon gets bored crazy quickly while the teacher lists and explains all the stuff the class is learning, so his eyes begin to wander to any and all displays in the classroom. Projects, annoying posters, class pet, anything is more interesting than this teacher’s explanation.

When MC finally becomes the main topic of the interview, he’s all ears. MC’s doing great in school academically? Ha! Nerd! Maybe giving MC a playful noogie and interrupting the whole interview wasn’t a good idea, but whatever.

If MC’s failing anything, or just isn’t that gifted when it comes to grades, it’s very much a “Aw man me too” from Mammon.

This teacher is speaking with the Great Mammon, the first demon in RAD’s history to fail three semesters in a row. If this teacher thinks bad grades will phase him, they’re dead wrong.

Grades don’t mean anythin’ about smarts anyway! I mean, look at him! He’s a fuckin’ genius but he can’t get through a history test without sobbing even though he LIVED THROUGH MOST OF IT.

MC gets treats no matter what’s up in class. Though, if MC didn’t go with him, he’s likely to forget and just order something for the two of them when he gets back home.

“Goddamn teachers and their rambling!” Mammon whined, grabbing a slice of pizza from the open box on his coffee table. “You owe me, MC! Ya really do!”

“Yeah yeah yeah.” MC said, they leaned over and rolled a pizza slice into a pizza-scroll then proceeded to eat it like a veggie roll. “How do you think I feel, listening to them every day? You know how long it takes to get to the actual class material?”

“Five years?”

“Ugh! Five years if I’m lucky! I swear, I know more about my teacher’s grievances with like… five of my classmates than I do about trigonometry, and guess which one’s on the test next week?”

Mammon winced in sympathy, then remembered he was supposed to be whining and went back to it. “School’s shit and a waste of money, ya should drop out as soon as you can and help me run my new business.”

“You mean your pyramid scheme?”

“It’s not a pyramid scheme, MC! It’s legit! It’s a multi-tiered marketing-”

“It’s a pyramid scheme.”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA SOCIAL INTERACTION (Leviathan)

Everyone else must have been sick or something for MC to have asked Levi. He’d flat out refuse to go otherwise.

So, Levi couldn’t exactly go to the interview in his usual “I haven’t left my room or changed clothes in eight weeks” look. With the help of MC, he was able to find his military uniform at the back of his closet.

Asmo nearly fainted when he saw Levi in the uniform, not because “oooo, a man in uniform~”, it was because the outfit was so crumpled and wrinkled that it made it physically painful to look at. No time to iron and wash, the conference was in an hour!

Levi (and MC if they went with) rolled up to the school in a less than impressive ride, but one look at the uniform and all the other people present went “yep, time to be respectful (tm)”

For the first time in his life Levi was more intimidating than Lucifer! And he wasn’t even trying!

When the teacher starts explaining the course material, Levi spaces off in horror as he realizes he remembers literally nothing from school (AND HE’S STILL IN SCHOOL!) all that’s running through his head is “A squared + B squared = C squared” and “the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell”.

The actual interview was the least interesting part of the trip, the real stuff happened when Levi passed by some art on display in the hallway and something caught his eye-

Those colours… that hair… that adorable smile..!

IT WAS HER! LEVI’S PRECIOUS RURI-CHAN IN ALL HER GLORY!

Levi immediately started fawning over the art class fanart and by sheer coincidence, one of the kids walking through the hallway happened to notice.

The kid asked MC if their… parent and or guardian liked anime. MC responded with “obviously.” Levi then asked the kid if they drew his adorable Ruri-chan. The kid said no, and that they drew the My Hero Academia fanart a few rows down.

Levi was absolutely floored that there were two anime fans in one class, then his entire world shattered when MC explained there was more anime art inside the art room and other classrooms.

H-hang on… did that mean that… a lot of people here… liked anime..?

Levi needed a while to process. No snacks on the way home…

Levi and MC were sat in the back of their Uber, Levi, the Avatar of Envy himself, was having his entire sense of reality warped. S-so much anime fanart… in a school of all places..! What did this mean for the future of anime?!

“Levi. Stop.” MC sighed. “If this were an anime, the camera angle would be doing that thing where it’s right on the bridge of your nose and dramatic music plays in the background.”

“S-so many kids in your class like a-anime huh..?” Levi stuttered, weakly trying to smile. “Must be nice..?”

“Oh, that’s just my class. The other classes and grades have their fans too.”

“Oh… really?”

“Levi,” MC stopped looking out the window and looked at the otaku that was having a full scale silent mental breakdown. “Anime isn’t even a niche interest anymore. It’s a pretty casual thing to watch now. At least a third of my class watches- Levi?”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH! ANIME! A THIRD OF THE CLASS?! ANIME… HIS PRECIOUS ANIME… WAS BECOMING A NORMIE INTEREST! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-

“Levi?” MC waved their hand in front of their spaced out demon’s face. “Leviiiii? Okay he’s dead.”

The Know it All (Satan)

Ah, a smart choice, MC. Satan would be glad to help further their education. He’ll do everything in his power to make sure that the human’s brain is fed all that sweet sweet knowledge.

Satan can’t dress himself normally, MC had to coax him into a suit jacket, but he still only wore one sleeve.

MC was coming along to the interviews whether they wanted to or not, it’s important to hear what they need to improve on from the teacher themselves after all.

The two arrived pretty early, so Satan asked MC for a tour of the school. It was pretty tame until they reached the library. Satan was horrified at the state of some of the books…

Their spines lined with duct tape�� pages missing and torn… someone apparently used a taco as a book mark…

The first thing Satan does when it’s time for his interview is demand the teacher take better care of the library, even though they’re not the librarian. MC tries to explain this, but Satan is too distraught to listen to reason.

He enjoyed hearing about the course material, but he made it known if MC thinks the assignments are too easy that they need to be given more challenging work. THEIR BRAIN NEEDS TO BE STIMULATED DAMN IT.

It was up to MC to either agree with Satan and nod to the teacher, or make frantic eye contact with them to try and communicate “NO DON’T PLEASE”.

Similar to (ugh) Lucifer, as long as MC is doing their best, he’s happy for them.

…but if they are in any way in the running for valedictorian he is HELPING THEM WIN.

He decided to stop at a cafe or bookstore to let MC pick out a “congrats on surviving your pitiful school” present after the interviews.

MC gleefully perused the shelves of the bookstore, there were so many books too look at…

“I’ll buy you as many books as you’d like, MC, just,” Satan shuddered slightly. “Promise me you won’t treat them like those poor library books…”

MC put their hand over their heart. “I swear on the duct taped book spines that I will never treat a book like that.”

“Good… good…” Satan breathed a sigh of relief and went back to looking at his book about cats.

“Are you… reading a Warrior Cats book..?” MC asked tentatively.

“Yes, why?”

“Satan, put that back.”

“I Will Seduce the Teacher For the Sake of Your Grades, Don’t Worry.” (Asmodeus)

Oh MC dear! He’d be delighted to go! Just let him get ready~

Asmo may not be the best choice, but he was at least going to be the best dressed person at that conference. (And MC just had to come too so all the other parents could be jealous of how well coordinated their outfits are)

He teased MC a little by saying he was going to flirt with their teacher to make sure they passed the class, but he was just kidding! …but he made sure to ask if their teacher was cute, he needed to know!

While waiting for his turn, Asmo flirts with some of the single parents, if he doesn’t see a wedding ring, they’re fair game.

Once his time slot arrived, MC realized that Asmo is one of those “my child has done and will do nothing wrong ever” types. This may have ended up working in MC’s favour if they were a class nuisance.

If MC is doing very well in sports, clubs, grades, anything, Asmo is fawning over them and gushing to the teacher about how great, smart and adorable they are.

Asmo surprisingly does not exactly flirt with the teacher, he was just teasing MC after all. But um… if MC’s teacher just happens to be cute and young, he may turn up the charm, just a little. Enough to make the teacher giggle and make MC cover their face in embarrassment.

After the interviews Asmo will probably schedule a nice day out for the two of them, shopping, a movie, mani pedis, something fun!

The real weird stuff happens in the months after the interviews… if Asmo did lightly flirt with the teacher, MC gets quite a few questions about their guardian. Questions that ask if Asmo is single in not as many words…

Oh lord, MC’s teacher developed a crush on Asmo.

Nail painting night was supposed to be a fun occasion, but MC was hopping mad and embarrassed. Asmo didn’t seem to notice as he continued to paint the little human’s nails.

“And then I told Phenex to get lost. The nerve of that little monster, right MC?” When MC didn’t reply, Asmo looked up and tilted his head. “MC?”

MC’s angry face would have been much more threatening if they weren’t just so adorable, but it was getting the message across.

“MC..?”

“Asmo.” MC’s glare deepened. “My teacher wants to know if you’re single.”

Asmo blinked a few times, before he hit his tongue to keep from laughing. “Really now~. I knew they’d be madly in love with me-”

“WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIIIIIIIIIIIS?!”

Oh My Demon King is That a BAKE SALE?! (Beel)

Of course Beel said yes! He’d gladly go to MC’s parent teacher interview!

He even put on a nice outfit :D he ended up looking a bit like a secret serviceman guarding MC, the tiny president.

Beel stopped for McDonald’s on the way there, all the other kids were so jealous of MC when they stepped out of the car eating fries.

But a little something something caught Beel’s eye when he and MC walked into the school… was that a… bake sale?

MC quickly explained that the bake sale was fundraiser for their class trip that year and the snacks weren’t complimentary. He had to pay.

And pay Beel did. He cleared out the entire table. MC’s grade’s overnight trip was going to be decadent as hell. That was no longer a crowd funded thing, that trip was privately funded by a tall buff ginger secret service member and this tiny in comparison child.

Kids are incredibly blunt, just like Beel, so when a random kindergarten kid wandered over, looked up at Beel, and very knowingly said “you’re very tall”. Beel was like “yeah”. The kid then said “what’s it like being that tall?”

Beel’s response to this kid’s question was to pick them up and hold them for a few seconds before placing them back down. For just a few moments this kid knew what it like to be over 6’4. Of course, more kids swarmed in and asked to be picked up.

Sure it was cute, but Beel now has an army of kids ranging from kindergarteners to third graders.

Finally, the conference actually began. Beel snacked the entire time and dutifully listened to everything the teacher had to say.

After the interviews are over, he checks with MC to make sure everything the teacher said was true and that they weren’t lying. If all was well, the two made their exit.

They stopped at Wendy’s on the way home.

“I’m so full…” MC groaned, Beel held up a massive cookie.

“So I can eat this?”

“No. Gimme that.” MC took a very defeated bite out of it. “My stomach says no but my mouth says yes…”

“I don’t want you to get a stomachache, MC,” Beel said worriedly. “No more snacks.”

“It’s a little late for that. It’s past nine and I’m still eating, there’s no way I’m getting to sleep at a reasonable hour.”

“Oh…” Beel mumbled. “I may have not completely thought this through.”

“*Snore* Huh? Wha? MC’s Grades? Uh… Fuck…” (Belphie)

MC must be failing a class or something because why on earth would they pick Belphie otherwise.

They ask him to go while he’s delirious from just waking up from a nap, he sort of half nods and mumbles some gibberish before going back to sleep.

MC had to basically carry his ass to the school. Belphie drooled all over them in the waiting room, and when it was their time to go into the interview, Belphie had to be manually put into the chair and slapped awake.

He barely listens, he just sits and nods along with whatever the teacher is saying. The teacher could say MC brought an alligator to school and he’d just go “uh huh…” “mmmph… yep…” “really now?” then yawn.

The only thing that could possibly get Belphie to be interested is if MC is studying space. If they are, than boy howdy is Belphie suddenly interested in their education.

Other than that? *snore*

If MC is in fact failing or doing poorly, MC’s teacher asks to see another one of MC’s guardians at a later date. Their plan failed miserably.

MC drags Belphie out of the school and yells at him for not helping them. Belphie, still sleep delirious, tries to press the snooze button. MC does not have a snooze button.

“Belphie!” MC shouted, shaking the Avatar of Sloth awake. The House of Lamentation’s resident bastard was somehow sleeping standing up outside. “HOW COULD YOU?!”

“Eh?” Belphie half-snorted and looked around confused. “What’d I do? Where are we?”

“At my school! You said that you’d go to my parent teacher interviews!”

“…MC I don’t think I’d pass well for you.”

“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO GO AS MY GUARDIAN!”

“Sheesh,” Belphie murmured while he rubbed the remaining sleep from his eyes. “You humans are so noisy.”

MC looked up at their dearest demon friend, and gave him their best glare. “I’m going to take all your fancy temperature changing pillows and switch them with normal pillows you traitorous bastard.”

#obey me #obey me! #obey me! shall we date? #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me! headcanons #Obey me Lucifer #Obey me! Lucifer #OM! Lucifer #Obey me Mammon #Obey me! Mammon #om! Mammon #Obey me Leviathan #Obey me! Leviathan #om! Leviathan #Obey me Satan #Obey me! Satan #OM! Satan #Obey me Asmodeus #Obey me! Asmodeus #Om! Asmodeus #Obey me Beelzebub #Obey me! Beelzebub #Om! Beelzebub #Obey me Belphegor #Obey me! Belphegor #Om! Belphegor #Obey me MC #Obey me! MC

[gloryofluv]

"Oh, Baby!" Time Traveling Child? Older Brothers Reaction to It Being Their Child.

The rain was absolutely horrendous so seeing a demonic version of yourself completely soaked and coddling a bundle was hard enough as it was. What the fuck? This probably is bad.

“Here! Please, I don’t have time! Take the baby, [Insert name] is the father! I’m sorry, I have to go!”

Future self. Time travel. Giant mess. Now… a toddler.

The Younger Brothers and Their Child

The Dateables with Their Child (Luke's reaction to Simeon's)

Lucifer’s Child-

Stunned. Confused. Enraged. Annoyed. The surface is neutral. The flames of hell burning inside. He will sip his tea as you dry off and explain thoroughly. The only giveaway that he has any emotion to this at all is the flickering of his eyes.

Appears indifferent… Until you hold it close and stop the child’s fussing. The gentleness. The sweet and utter calm that washes over you. Handsome boi is twitterpated fast. His demeanor softens, and he moves closer to speak to both of you. Yes. The new Moons in his Devildom.

The excellent thing about taking care of six younger brothers, he’s had to adapt swiftly. Begins a pristine plan for taking care of the child, with or without you. (He would be pissed if you said without you, just agree to take care of your child together, okay?) Even if the option is on the table to walk away, he would be devastated if you did. Utterly and whole-heartedly.

These plans take shape within hours. Akuzon orders arriving at expedited speed. Barbatos coming over with special nutritional needs for the child. He’s efficient and even started the remodeling of rooms at that time. The study now has children's toys and a safe playpen. The house has been baby-proofed overnight (It was already idiot-proof, so it wasn’t a far stretch).

His room now has a mock nursery. He actually insists you move in there temporarily so that you and the child have peace. That’s regardless of your relationship status. The minute your future self dropped his child on you was the minute he no longer could deny feelings had developed. He needs you close.

Good Luck keeping this demon from spoiling the shit out of your kid. He may be a disciplinarian, but his child will be spoiled rotten. Get ready to be the “No, they can’t have that, Lucifer! I don’t care how long you’ve been working today. They’re grounded, remember?”

But don’t get it wrong. His child will grow up being just as pristine, tenacious, and prideful as himself. Yep, you have your work cut out for you. Good Luck…

Mammon’s Child-

Say what? Huh? No… Wait. Huh? His baby?!

This demon would be in denial for the first two hours at least. By denial, it’s difficult to catch him up to how this all happened. Future? Demon? You and him??? What? Mammon’s crow brain lost the shiny for a quick minute there.

After. He would be a blushing mess. How? How is he supposed to overcome it all? Future you and him? His secret love? His heart and joy? The fire in his chest and wind in his wings? Que the heart eyes at the realization.

Has no plan. You will have to plan everything while he starts showing his child his room, the house, and rubbing it in his brothers’ faces. Yeah, his baby. The Great Mammon! His beautiful child. Swelling of pride and love just gripping at him.

Your plans will likely be trampled as you order the items you need, thanks to Lucifer’s help. Your room is now the baby’s room. Although, Mammon gripes about you not just moving everything to his room. Major complainer about it until you give in.

Spoiler with money he doesn’t have, however, starts to realize how lucrative the baby can be. Owwwww!! You have to chide him plenty about not selling your child’s photos. He’s just so damn sweet though and never wants to put them down! Sorry, you’ve now been replaced. At least for the cuddles.

However, don’t expect to get out of it that easily. Your station is in his bedroom now. You need something? Mammon’s gonna get it! You have your own half of the room. You and his wee one.

Chaotic dad. Loves hard. You’re going to need to help him get sorted and with the baby around and you being its other parent… Well, he really doesn’t have a choice! Quick learner, but easily distracted. Don’t expect him to ever discipline. Sorry, honey, you’re now a parent of two.

Plan for this baby to be just as excitable as its father. However, with your coaching, the greed might taper a bit… hopefully???

Leviathan’s Child-

Fainted. Is he dead??? No. Just this happened in an anime with a very long name and similar plot. He figured he was already dreaming or something!!! Tries to equate how you both had a child if you never… did normie stuff before!

Takes probably the most amount of time to be explained to. Not because he doesn’t get it. No… he just has a hard time believing you would want a baby with a disgusting Otaku!!! You eventually do calm him down.

By that time, Lucifer has already made a list. He gives it to him with a stern expression that clearly reads, “Don’t fuck this up, bro.” Levi is still a bumbling mess, and no, please stop asking him to hold it. What if he drops it? What if he scares it? What if he smells? Please don’t let this baby reject him…

He’s a trial-by-fire type. You have to force him to let you move in to take care of the baby around him. You have to nearly break his fingers to hold the baby… but when he does. Oh. He’s in love! So cute and sweet, and it's both of yours??? You mixed with him? This is so amazing and wonderful!

Has the least resistance to you taking control of the baby’s needs and telling him what to do. He’s clueless and wanting to soak up each and every moment with both of you. Easiest to coach about routine and plans as well. He sees it as a reality-virtual-reality game! Tasks, rewards, tasks, achievements!

Possessive. Don’t plan on his brothers holding the baby for the first several months. No one but both of you will. Also, don’t even think he won’t master the art of quelling the horrible crying either. Tail rocking is the best, and Little Henry 3.0 would agree!

Baby will be your demon, but don’t expect him to not get a bit jealous. He wants his child to know they’re his player three in life as well!

#accidental baby acquisition #obey me fandom #om! headcanons #obey me headcanons #om! lucifer #om! mammon #om! leviathan #om! mc #obey me humor

[attllhak]

Adoption AU - Lullaby Reacts to Time’s Batman Level Adoption Bullshit

@tortilla-of-courage I offer you mercy. Also no one mentioned wanting to be tagged on the last story on this series so it’s just you for right now I guess.

Also, this fic is called ‘Aunt Lullaby/Uncle Sheik On Time’s Sudden Acquisition Of Kids’ in my docs, but I’ve been using the ‘Batman-Level Adoption Bullshit’ for so long that this is the title now.

Also! Some of the boys have some heavy topics to their backstories (Wars comes to mind as an example), so let me know if I need to tag this with certain warnings or stuff. Nothing is actually shown, but I figured I’d just put that out there.

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

Lullaby, who was still just Zelda then, had been very excited when Time, then just Link, had called her to tell her that Malon was pregnant.

She had gotten the call first, as Link had found it important that she knew before anyone else. After everything else in his life, he said, he wanted the person who he knew would always be there for him to know first, and that he was going to be making a few other calls later that day.

Link had never had an easy life. When his father died when he was 10, he’d ended up devastated. Zelda and her Aunt Impa had found him hiding in an alley a few days after, once he’d run away from the social workers. His sister Navi had been with him, and the two were sorting through the very few bits of snack food they’d had. Link’s father had been a foster parent for a lot of strays, orphans, or abused kids needing another place to stay. Link had fallen into the orphan category, and so the social workers had planned to cycle him back into the system. He’d lost contact with his sister Saria, whom he still hadn’t found out how to make contact with again, and so all he had was Navi. Impa had taken them both in on the spot, much to the annoyance of Zelda’s father initially, but the two grew on him. Navi went missing when Link and Zelda had been 17, after an issue with a man who really had wanted to see them both dead. Link hadn’t given up hope yet, but with every passing year it looked worse and worse for her to be okay.

Zelda had known Malon from day one, and had loved Link’s wife and was so happy to see him find that bit of happiness. The one thing she knew he wanted more than anything else was to have a solid, stable family of his own.

The pregnancy was a wonderful bit of news, and she couldn’t be happier for her brother.

She had spent some time over at their house, her then-girlfriend Ruto coming as well, helping Malon with some of the housework and such since she wasn’t supposed to be doing too much of the ranch work while pregnant.

She had arrived at the hospital less than thirty minutes after she got the call that Malon was in labor, and spent the time pacing in the hall, then supporting Link when he got kicked out after panicking too much. Apparently Malon had enough of him.

She could relate.

After Link had his whole ‘we made a whole baby person’ moment where his brain short-circuited after he was handed his son, the next person who got to hold him was Zelda. A chubby baby, who slept almost the whole time. He had his mother’s nose, thank Hylia.

Zelda saw him open his eyes only once that day, and she could swear she saw in his cobalt-silver eyes that same spark in his father’s eye. Singular, since Link only had the one.

Zelda’s family had a long tradition of naming their kids after family members. Her name was her grandmother’s and her great-grandmother’s, so on so forth. Her father had been pressing to pick a family name the entire pregnancy. Her mother had kept telling him to back off a little. Fortunately, Malon’s family also had a set of passed down names, hers being one of them. So the idea of naming the child after family wasn’t a big deal for her, even if it was a different set of names.

However, there was one thing to take into account here, and that was Link’s family.

No one knew what the naming traditions in his family were, he didn’t even know his birth parent’s names. But that didn’t change the desire to find a way to work them in too.

There was only one name from Link’s family that anyone knew.

The baby was named Link.

Zelda’s father stopped complaining a week later. Her mother was very clear about it.

At Zelda and Ruto’s wedding seven years later, Link Jr. was the ring bearer.

Junior stopped being his nickname when he was thirteen.

(---)

Zelda got a call from Link Sr. about a day after it happened with a simple request.

“Who was in charge of the paperwork when your family adopted me?”

Zelda blinked once, then twice. “Come again?”

“The lawyer who arranged for my adoption, who was that?” Link asked again.

“Why?” Zelda asked, her wife leaning around the doorframe to give her a concerned look. Zelda shot her a thumbs up.

A heavy sigh came from the other end of the phone. “I think I’ve acquired another son,”

Zelda came over.

This new nephew of hers, apparently, was a sweet boy. A series of scars littered his entire left side, burn and explosive damage if she were to guess, and he had no idea how he got them. He had amnesia. The one thing he did know was his name.

His name was Link.

Zelda had to take a minute. She was trying very hard not to laugh. This was exactly the kind of luck her brother had.

“Zelda, stop mocking me, this wasn’t my call,” Link whined, though he’d never say it was a whine.

“Link, you have to see the humour here,” she gasped, waving at the two boys in the living room where Jr. was trying to show Scars how to use a lasso. This was Zelda’s idea, but she wasn’t taking responsibility for it.

Link just sighed heavily. “Link found him on the street. Malon looked into it and his parents died in a car crash a year ago, he has nowhere to go. We’ve agreed to let him stay, you understand that,”

Zelda nodded, sobering up some. “Yeah, I get that, kinda. The lawyer we hired was named Rauru, Mom should have his contact information still, you should call her,”

Link sighed, relieved. “Thank you,”

“Of course, just don’t make it a habit,”

(---)

The first inclination this would be a habit was a year later.

Wild, the younger of his sons, was in the same class as another boy named Link. This boy had lived with his uncle his whole life, and got the call his uncle died when at school. Sheik was about ready to punch someone for doing that to the boy, and just before christmas no less.

Wild brought him home, insisting he could stay at least for the holidays. The agreement wasn’t even a question, there was no way he was going to be forced to spend a holiday at an orphanage.

When Sheik and Ruto showed up on christmas day, not that their family cared much for christmas but they were all off anyways, the newest Link had been named Legend.

He was a little more shy than the others, understandably, and a little snappish.

Not a bad kid, just one grieving and in need of family. That was something their family had never hesitated to provide.

Sheik’s mother teaching him how to spin a butterfly knife was probably not the wisest decision, but considering Rottla heard a therapist say “Your kids are traumatized, they need to feel safe again,” and decided to sign them up for every martial arts she could, well, it should have been a sign that she wasn’t the best in that regard. Time, Link Sr., had made it very clear he felt Sheik took after her. Sheik had no idea what his brother was talking about.

Legend didn’t leave after that. One call to Rauru, and Legend was a permanent member of the family.

Sheik took great pride in being the favorite Uncle of Legend’s, after his late guardian of course. He pointedly ignored that he was the only Uncle, and only part-time.

Time could suck it.

(---)

Lullaby, since so many of her nephews’ friends were named Zelda apparently, received a call at five am.

True, she knew her brother and his wife woke up at sunrise to do yard work and such, but usually they were kind enough to let her sleep in.

Not so this morning.

“Wha?” She mumbled into the phone, trying, and failing, to not wake her wife.

“Zelda,” came Malon’s clipped tone through the receiver, “do you know about a missing person’s case for one Jerimiah Smith?”

Zelda blinked heavily, and had to convince herself not to go back to sleep. Who, why did Malon care? It was five am, the sun wasn’t even up yet.

“Why?” She asked to buy time, still working on a quarter of thought. Ruto rolled over and held her. Not helping, Ruto.

“I have a Link Smith in my barn claiming that his grandfather went missing, and he’s run away from a temporary foster home,” Malon explained, and okay that was worth waking up for.

Lullaby sat up, pushing Ruto’s arm from her waist to her lap, causing her wife to grumble, and turned on the lamp, rubbing sleep out of her eyes. “Okay, okay pause. Pause and back up,” she half-swallowed a yawn, squinting into her bedroom. “What is going on?”

“I got up to do some work, since Link is still asleep, and I came into the barn to find a boy asleep in the hay, here you are,” her voice dropped away from the receiver, likely talking to the boy in question, then came back. “So I found a boy in the hay, and I woke him up. He says his name is Link Smith, and he was living with his grandfather since his father was overseas in the military. His father wasn’t home enough to care for him, so his grandfather had sole custody after his mother died or something, there was a lot of tears at this part. Anyways, his grandfather went missing a week ago, and he’s been through three foster homes and none of them were very accepting of, he apparently has a ‘mental thing’ that he’s dealing with. I was wondering if you could confirm his story?”

Lullaby leaned over the bed, grumbling, and grabbed her laptop, Ruto giving up on getting her back to bed and sliding up the headboard with her to drape over her shoulders while she pulled up Firefox. “Hold on,” she told her sister in law, plugging the name into Google. Jeremiah Smith, went missing a week ago, blah blah blah, oh there we go.

Link Smith, grandson of Jerimiah Smith, left in limbo after his grandfather’s disappearance. Oh, that was interesting. According to this article, which most certainly was breaking some privacy laws and if Link Smith was staying it would be coming down, the boy had multiple personality disorder.

“Yeah, he’s telling the truth,” Lullaby said, switching the phone to her other ear so Ruto could nuzzle up better without bumping it. “Also, I found his weird ‘mental thing’. According to this article, which I’m pretty sure isn’t legal, he’s got dissociative identity disorder,”

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Ruto mumbled, still mostly asleep on her shoulder.

“No, not really. He’s actually more likely to be in danger than a danger,” she twisted to kiss her wife’s head, then went back to Malon. “He probably really needs someone who’ll be supportive enough through all this, both the disappearance and his condition. DID isn’t something easy to live with, I can see him having some issues with foster parents,” Lullaby had never been so glad that she got bored one day and decided to look it up after she heard people talk about it so negatively. You never know when information like that would be useful.

“He’s fine to take in?” Malon whispered after a moment. “I just, the other boys,”

“Will need to be patient, but unless one of his alters is particularly bad for dealing with threats, perceived or otherwise, in an unkind way then he’s fine and safe to be around. I’d ask him about that, but don’t force him to admit anything that can be bad for him, but I don’t see any more risk than taking in Wild or Legend,”

Malon sighed on the other end of the line. “Alright, I’ll bring him in and wake up Link, so he can call Rauru about all this while I sit with him and try and get him to relax,”

“Wonderful, I’ll call the office and see about what I can do about this article then. And for the record, if you ever call me at asscrack of dawn o’clock in the morning again, then next time we meet I’m clocking you,”

Malon had the nerve to laugh.

Four, as he’d been nicknamed by the time Lullaby and Ruto showed up to meet him, was a fascinating person. Green, the host of his system, was a brave, if occasionally airheaded, boy who wanted to try everything, and had been fascinated by his grandfather’s old-timey forge. Time had plans to make one in the yard for him. Red, the emotional and spiritual protector of the system, was empathetic and sweet and compassionate. No one had a bad word to say about Red. Vio, short for Violet, was the gatekeeper for the system and kept the four of them working on the same page. Bright and clever boy, his nose stuck in a book most of the time and willing to offer up the most random and yet useful information. Blue, the physical protector, was a little gruff and definitely someone you just got used to, but he cared deeply about his ‘brothers’ as they called each other, and the external brothers he acquired grew on him quickly enough too. It was a bit of a fight to get custody of him, but Rauru was the best there was, so it was only a week or two before the paperwork was going through for him.

Lullaby had a feeling this wasn’t the end by a long shot, and prayed that Hylia would be merciful about granting Time’s wish for a family.

She was going a little overboard.

(---)

Sheik wasn’t surprised in the least at the newest addition when he walked in the one day. No, mostly he was just confused as to why he hadn’t gotten a phone call before he got there.

Usually there was a phone call.

He was very upset by the way the boy looked, however.

This new addition, Warriors as he’d learn later that Time acquired yet another Link, was curled up in the corner of the couch with his scarf wrapped around him like a blanket, clearly trying not to be seen. Voices floated out of the kitchen, and Sheik picked up that Twilight brought him home, and was lobbying for a new brother.

Ah, that’s why there was no phone call.

Ruto went to investigate the conversation, so Sheik decided to introduce himself to his newest nephew.

Upon closer inspection, the boy looked about Twilight’s age, and had a bruise on his temple, maybe a day or two old now. Looking closer saw a few more on the left side of the boy’s face. Someone hit him, with purpose.

Sheik sat down next to him and said nothing, waiting for him to make the first move. Eventually, he poked his head out of his scarf.

“Hello,” Sheik offered once it became clear he wouldn’t be saying anything.

“Hullo,” he mumbled into the fabric, glancing away and back at his feet.

“My name is Sheik,” Sheik offered lightly. “Time is my brother,”

The boy looked up, eying him. “Twilight is your nephew?”

“Yes, he is,” Sheik nodded, smiling at him. “You’re a friend of his?”

The boy shrugged. “Kinda,” a beat of silence passed, then he shifted around. “He said I’d be safe here,”

“You will be,” Sheik agreed, trying to be comforting. “I can assure you of that,”

He hummed and snuggled back into his scarf.

“May I, if this isn’t overstepping, can I ask why you need somewhere to be safe?” Sheik asked after a moment.

He tensed up, eyes darting to him and at the doorway, and then back, wide eyes a little panicked.

Sheik was just about to apologize when the boy spoke.

“I ran away from home,” he admitted, looking away. “My uh, my parents aren’t, great people. I can’t go back, so I need somewhere else to go. Twi said I could be safe here, that his parents would fight for me,”

“They will,” Sheik said with enough conviction it almost startled him. “I know my brother, and he can’t turn away from someone in need, and his wife is the most strong willed woman I’ve ever met. You won’t find another pair of people more willing to go to war for you than them.”

He blinked at Sheik, then nodded, relaxing a little. “And, if my parents come for me?”

Sheik grinned. “My family is very rich, and we have a small army of very good lawyers. You won’t be going back there, I assure you,”

He smiled, and leaned over towards Sheik a little. “I’m Link,”

Of course you are, Sheik thought. He held out an arm for ‘Link’ to lean into, not getting attached to the name since it would be changing. The boy leaned into his side easily, deflating against him with a sigh. He looked so tired.

“Link,” Sheik asked carefully, watching his words. “Can I ask about the bruises on your face?”

The boy blinked up at him, biting his lip.

“They uh, my dad did that,” he admitted in a small voice, curling into Sheik’s side, and the sheikah pulled him in close to his side, hoping to provide the comfort Link was seeking. “Right before I left. I packed up and went through the window. My twin sister is still there, and I’m a little worried about her, but I can’t go back again. I, he,” he paused, sucking in a breath. Sheik rubbed his arm and side, trying to help him calm down, ignoring the tears on his shirt.

“I thought he was going to kill me,” Link finally admitted in a small, scared voice.

Sheik knew he never had very many parental instincts, and he and Ruto agreed no kids before they even got engaged, but for the first time ever Sheik felt that flare that Time and Malon described everytime something threatened their kids. It was then and there Sheik decided this boy would be part of their family, whether Time was the one who took him in or not. No kid should have to say that and mean it. No kid should be scared their parent was going to kill them.

Oh, the lawyers Sheik was planning on bringing down on whoever these assholes were would be many.

Time took the boy in, as Sheik predicted (thankfully), and sure enough the immediate support was immense. His parents never even put out a missing persons report. Sheik added child negligence to his list of growing charges to lay out.

Two months after Warriors moved in, he got a call from his sister. She got out and was safe now, and wanted to be sure he was as well. This made him very relieved. They met up once or twice, and seemed to be getting back to normal.

Two weeks later, Legend and Wild got suspended distracting Warriors’ parents so Twilight could sneak him out the back of the school. Four didn’t get suspended, but only because when Vio messed with the security cameras to cover up the escape he didn’t get caught. Time took all three out for ice-cream and junk food when he picked them up.

Lullaby saw an opportunity and took it without hesitation. Lawyers were called and organized, and without much wait there was an order for both of them to appear in court on child abuse and negligence charges. The kidnapping charge laid against them in retaliation was almost laughable.

A few weeks later, Time and Malon had full custody of Warriors pending a proper criminal trial for full punishment of his parents, at which time Linkle, Warriors’ twin sister, planned to testify as well. If they couldn’t get things settled before Warriors turned 18, then they planned to push through an adult adoption the day he did. A birthday present, Time had said. Lullaby laughed.

(---)

Sky was probably the most skittish of Time’s sons.

Lullaby wasn’t sure entirely why he was so skittish, but he was. He reminded her of a bird, or a rodent, or a cat who really, really didn’t want to interact with new people.

She had been briefed before she visited on Sky’s background. His social worker had been having trouble setting him up with a home where he’d stay for longer than a week or so, and in a last ditch effort had asked Time and Malon, with their long track record of housing troubled and unhousable youths, if they could take one more. They agreed.

Sky apparently had a friend, a bit of a troublemaker if Lullaby guessed correctly, who had gotten the two arrested. Time mentioned the event had Sky concerned about being ‘too much trouble’ and that ‘they’d get rid of him too’ or something. Time said this was ridiculous, as Sky caused him the least amount of trouble, but the boy was concerned about being thrown away again. He apparently had a few self-worth issues.

Lullaby found him on the back porch talking to the birds. Not in any human language, mind you, and Lullaby spoke many, but cooing and chirping back at them. He seemed very happy and at ease like that, singing at the birds.

“Do you mind if I join you?” She asked in a whisper during a pause in the conversation.

Sky jumped, eyes wide, and he squirmed a little when he saw her. “Uh, sure, I guess,”

She sat on the other end of the bench next to him, and calmly went back to watching the birds, and him interacting with them. He seemed much more at ease here than he did with people.

“Did you need something?” He asked, after a while, letting a blue jay grab a peanut from his hand.

“Not specifically,” she shook her head. “I had wanted to meet you, but nothing else,”

He blinked at her a little dumbly.

“Why would you want to meet me?” He asked.

“What do you mean?” She asked back, not sure what he was trying to say.

“Well, I mean, I’m not exactly special. And, it’s not like I’m staying,”

“I think you’re pretty special, most people can’t get birds to land on their hands like that,” Lullaby said gently, not liking how he spoke about himself. “And why would you think you aren’t staying?”

“I never stay,” he admitted, turning his eyes back to the birds, frowning. “No one ever considers me worth the effort,”

“You are very much worth the effort,” Lullaby countered, trying her best to keep her face soft instead of pinching up. “Trust me, however much effort you are, it is nowhere near the level of your brothers. Time wouldn’t have taken you in if he didn’t want you,”

“He’s just doing Impa a favour,” he said glumly, offering up more birdseed to the birds. “I won’t be staying forever,”

“I’m sure my brother has explained why that’s bullshit,” Lullaby said bluntly.

“But, I got arrested,” he mumbled.

“So have three of your brothers,” Lullaby pointed out. “Regularly. For much worse things. I promise you, that is not an issue,”

“But,”

“If you are going to say something bad about yourself again then I’m telling you right now I’m not going to listen to it,” Lullaby cut him off. “Time has told me a lot about you, and all of it is how much he loves you,”

“Really?” Sky looked up at her.

“You cause him the least amount of headaches of all his sons,” Lullaby smiled. “He adores you,”

Sky turned away, clearly trying to think that over.

“How about you tell me more about the things you enjoy doing,” Lullaby suggested.

“Huh?” Sky asked, turning back to her.

“I’d like to get to know more about what makes my nephew happy,” she smiled.

“Why?”

“Well, I’d be a bad aunt if I didn’t, especially since you’ll be sticking around,”

Sky looked like he didn’t believe her, but told her about his woodcarving anyways.

Lullaby was happy that as time went on Sky became less skittish and self-deprecating. He was a sweet kid, and as he got more comfortable and confident more of his true colours started showing through.

She felt a bit bad for Time, though. Apparently he was as prone to chaos as his brothers, he was just more subtle about it.

Time brought it on himself though. He should have known this when he adopted six boys.

(---)

The call about the next son had Lullaby’s head hitting her kitchen table, groaning loudly even when Ruto came to check on her.

Wild found a boy in the woods and they’d decided to keep him.

This was getting to be just a bit too much.

When Sheik and Ruto got to meet the boy, they were a bit taken aback. They had expected another Wild.

What they got was a quiet boy who mostly kept to himself. He was a bit shy, but he seemed to open up a bit more around Wild and, amusingly, Legend. He was a bit jumpy, but considering they had no idea how long he was in the woods that was expected.

What was surprising them most was that he did actually have a mother, who loved him very much, but who was very sick and so wasn’t able to actually take care of him, thus the wandering in the woods. His mother had been very worried, but physically unable to look. She had asked family to check but they gave up pretty quickly.

In light of her family being horrible for taking care of her son, and not knowing if she’d survive her illness, she asked Malon and Time if they could take care of her son for her since she clearly couldn’t trust her relatives and the boy’s father had abandoned them the moment she decided to keep him.

Time and Malon had taken one look at the boy and their sons, and agreed. They worked out an arrangement to keep the boy’s mother in the loop, and then they called Rauru. After which Time called his sibling.

This boy’s name was also Link. Sheik did not feel bad about laughing. Really, his brother had the weirdest luck.

They, for some reason, decided his nickname would be Hyrule. Why they decided to name him after the country, Sheik didn’t know. Apparently it was the only nickname he liked.

He had trouble reading, but he liked learning, especially if he could use what he learned to help people.

He fit right in, which made Sheik wonder exactly when his brother was going to stop adopting. He hoped it was before the ranch house ran out of room.

(---)

Eight. He stopped at eight.

Which was still too many, in Sheik’s opinion, but whatever.

The newest hellraiser at least didn’t come from the streets like almost all of the others.

This Link (because yes, his name was Link too) had recently lost his parents and his grandmother couldn’t financially support both him and his sister. So Time and Malon agreed to take care of him for her. The rest of their sons all acquired a grandma as well, it seemed.

They nicknamed him Wind, and he immediately latched onto his older brothers and started giving his new parents headaches.

When Lullaby and Ruto showed up next, she felt no sympathy for her brother. He brought this on himself.

She was more than a little pissed off when the brat stole her wallet though. Damn thief.

Time assured her that they’d talk to him about it. Lullaby wasn’t sure that’d help.

But, she reasoned, despite the chaos, Time was happy. Practically giddy. He lit up whenever he spoke about his sons, and he clearly loved them dearly.

Hylia had granted his wish for a family. She maybe went a bit overboard, but as long as Time was happy, so was Lullaby.

(---)

She wasn’t commenting on the ninth kid. She refused.

At least his name wasn’t ‘Link’.

#linked universe #lu #lu time #lu lullaby #lu twilight #lu wild #lu legend #lu four #lu warriors #lu sky #lu hyrule #lu wind #malon #ruto #abuse mention #injury mention #ask to tag #this is basically the intro to the au i think #it introduces all the main characters and relationships and backstories #and i also got to write a bit for rottla #i'll be honest rottla has very quickly become one of my favorite characters #i love her #i'm actually very glad other people are liking this au because i love writing it #and again if anyone wants to be tagged when i post more of this au then let me know and i'll make a list #adoption au

[fandomsonrequests]

unexpected friend

fandom: ATEEZ

characters: choi san

reader: fem

word count: 5.4k

summary:  fate decided to test this decade long feud between you and choi san

notes: enemies to lovers AU, toxic themes, character death, substance abuse (it’s not explicit) such as alcohol and cigarettes, heavy themes, language, violence 

You had no idea where it started— you just knew that you hated Choi San with every fiber of your being. And unsurprisingly, the feeling is mutual with you.

Maybe it started in kindergarten when he accidentally pushed you to the ground in the game of tag. You got so mad at him, saying that he meant it when he obviously didn’t, calling him stupid because “all boys are stupid.”. Or maybe it started when you knocked over his tower of building blocks as revenge. Or was it when he dipped your pigtails in paint to get back at you? Or maybe the time he spread rumors that you had cooties causing everyone to avoid you like the plague.

Whatever the reason, it spiraled into a childhood rivalry that continued as you grew older. The endless cycle of cat versus dog, taking revenge on one another, followed into grade school, where you reached your horse phase and he reached his gun dam phase. It was inevitable you’d see him again— you both lived in a fairly small town after all.

Petty actions like drawing on the other’s homework turned into stealing each other’s lunches or setting some sort of prank at each other’s seats— whatever your ten-year-old brains could think of. Your screaming matches grew even worse and at one point, you both started throwing punches. The teachers always had to watch you during breaks because eventually, you’d be on top of each other and pulling at each other’s hair.

San had an advantage of course since he took taekwondo, you always ended up as the loser. But in retaliation, you managed to convince your mother to enroll you in some other martial art to protect yourself. And when you won your first little fistfight— you always made sure to lord it over him.

“Hah, you got beat by a little girl! Not so tough now huh potato-head?”

“Shut up horse-face!”

San saw your kindness and charisma towards others as an act. It was your own way of reeling others in to be on your side, gathering some sort of army to help you gang up against him. You on the other hand managed to convince yourself that his cute little dimples and selflessness for others was a facade, You couldn’t believe how many people he’s managed to fool or turn against you. And you’ve always hated him for that. You let it fester as you go through grade school and towards middle school. That hatred you harbored for him was always lit inside you.

Your parents and his were always apologizing to each other during parent-teacher meetings or school events, having to hold you back from jumping on one another. Your dad had given up on the whole thing so he was totally useless; that left you to run to your mother for comfort. Whatever the situation was, at the end of the day, she was always on your side.

“Things will blow over soon. But please, honey, try to stay out of trouble for me?”

So when she died in your junior year of high school, you couldn’t help but feel alone. Your dad had taken to smoking to cope with the loss, marrying a woman who was in love with alcohol while bringing her two hellish twin daughters with her into your home. Things grew miserable for you at home; your dad became a pathetic pushover, letting his new wife run the household. That made you angry— how could he get over your mother so easily? How could he let himself get walked over like that? How could he ignore the way your older step-sisters trampled all over you?

How could he let all this happen?

San’s endless taunting at school didn’t help either. His harmless pranks grew worse as time passed: spray-painting some nasty words on your locker, or setting a bucket of paint on top of the gym doors since you’re always the last one to head out. You’d heed your mother’s words, always doing your best to ignore him. For a while, it had worked and he pestered you less than usual but your mom’s death and the situation at home had triggered something in you, making you snap back. You’d shove his face down into his food during lunch or knock his books down the stairwell whenever you pass by each other. You had even managed to sneak some of the insects from the lab into his gym clothes, causing him to end up with nasty rashes all over his body for a week.

Your physical fights weren’t frequent but they became more violent, with one or both of you having to go to the nurses, holding an ice pack to your busted lips while a piece of gauze was stuck up his bloodied nose. It took several students or even teachers to pull you apart because most of the time no one wanted to jump in and separate you two; it was always so messy with fists and kicks flying everywhere. There was even one point where you both had to go to the hospital for fractured bones. You were both suspended for a week.

Fortunately, things had toned down now that you both were in your final year of high school with the pressure of college and meeting requirements looming over you. Although, neither of you managed to make up. You’d still exchange some foul words but the stupid pranks and fights had simmered down. That never meant you were on good terms though.

But then fate decided to be a little shit and put you in a situation you never thought you’d find yourself in.

Your new biology teacher didn’t seem to be informed about the decade-long feud between you and San. So when she assigned the both of you as partners, you felt your heart drop to your stomach as a sick feeling crawled over you. You wanted to cry and throw up at the same time- that’s just how much you despised him. You both tried to plead with her to change partners but she was as stubborn as a mule, insisting that you two can “sort out your differences” and finish this project as a team.

And now here you were, avoiding each other’s stares despite being sat next to each other. The proximity between you two was suffocating, it made it hard to focus on the project being explained to you by your cruel teacher. Your skin tingles unpleasantly whenever either of you shifted in your seat, your arms just several centimeters away from touching each other. Many thoughts ran through your head on how you can get out of this. But you knew that you had to find some time to work on the damn thing together or else you’d flunk high school— and being stuck in community college, never being able to leave this town, was not worth hitting San at the back of the head and gloating at him.

“You have the rest of the period to plan with each other. Make sure to have your presentation set and ready for next week.” Your teacher says and sits at her desk.

The room was filled with chatter as the students started conversing with each other. Many pairs threw knowing stares at you, worried that you’d be at each other’s throats. Surprisingly you weren’t… at least not yet anyway.

For a while, neither of you said anything to each other. San simply scrolled through his phone hidden under his desk while you organized your final notes. Minutes tick by and the class slowly comes to an end. With a heavy sigh, you decided to swallow your pride and talk to the guy.

You turn to the boy, roughly shoving his knee with yours and he sends you an irritated glare. “C’mon we need to plan for this.” You deadpan, ignoring the look he gave you.

San returned the sigh and pocketed his phone, shifting to face you. “Alright then. So what’s the plan?”

“That’s what we’re supposed to be talking about, dumbass.” You mutter, growing irritated. You clench your fists together in an attempt to keep your calm before continuing. “Anyway, we’re supposed to make some model of the nerve cells then present it.”

San stays quiet for a moment before speaking up. “My sister has some spare clay and wires from her sculpting hobby. I could ask for some.”

“Great. You work on that while I work on the script.” You conclude before going back to your notes.

“Hold on- you’re gonna leave me with all of the hard work?”

“We have the same workload?? I’m making the script.”

“That’s easy- scripts can be finished within a day or something.” San shot back, finding the arrangement you had set, without his consultation by the way, as unfair.

“Then I’ll help you when I’m done. Quit whining like a bitch.” You sigh, having no energy to continue the argument with him.

“Asshat…” He mumbles under his breath, pulling out his phone to text his sister. He expected some sort of retaliation from you but you simply remained quiet. That was odd- considering that you never missed the chance to have the last word in. Maybe you just weren’t feeling it today.

Nevertheless, he ignored you, deciding that it wasn’t worth pestering you at the moment. The bell rings, signaling the end of the class, and you’re immediately up and out of your seat, stuffing your notebook into your bag and swinging it over your shoulder. It almost hits San’s cheek in the process but you were already walking out the door before he could call you out on it.

“Geez…” He huffs and keeps his own things, glaring after you while hoping that time would fly by fast so that the project was done and over with.

~~

A few days have passed by since the biology class. True enough, you’ve finished writing and even printing the script within the day the project was assigned to you. So now you were stuck helping out San with sculpting the whole model. You two would work together at the back of the library after school. Initially the librarian was hesitant about letting the two of you inside given your reputation and all. But when she saw that neither of you were at each other’s throats, surprisingly, she allowed for you to work on it in the library.

Of course you and San still had some disputes— how it’s supposed to be positioned, what shape it’s supposed to take, yadda yadda. But it had never escalated into a full blown argument because it always ended up with you taking the blow of his harsh words. That alone started to concern the boy, you’d always get back at him. But your resigned silence after every quip he threw at you started to worry him. Sure he hated your guts but San wasn’t a nasty person. He knew something was bothering you. But, he never took the initiative to ask what was bothering you; it wasn’t his problem anyway.

~~

A weekend away from Monday aka the day of your presentation. The model was almost done— it just needed a paint job. Since it was a Saturday afternoon, meaning the school was closed, neither of you were able to work at your usual spot. So San decided to just take the whole thing to your home to finish it. Of course he could finish the whole thing himself but he had a party to attend later in the evening, and he didn’t want to miss out on it.

He arrives at your home, model in one hand and a crate of paints in the other. He takes note of the absence of your dad’s and step-sister’s cars in the driveway and assumed that you were all out. He sighs in frustration, hoping that that wasn’t the case. Jogging up to the porch, the boy sets down the crate and rings the doorbell a couple of times, foot tapping against the wooden floorboards as he waits.

When there was no response after a few minutes he tried again, this time ringing the doorbell a bit more frantically. Before he could turn around and head back home after getting no response, he hears frantic footsteps scurrying inside and steps back as the door swings open. There you were, hair looking like a bird’s nest while your week-old cardigan hung off your shoulders. There were dark circles under your eyes and you looked like a hobo who had the opportunity to clean after themselves. In other words: you were a mess.

“The fuck are you doing here?” You snap the minute your hazy mind registers that San was standing at your door.

The said boy snaps out of his own trance and shoves the model in your face. “We need to finish this.”

You stare at the figure in his hand then to the crate by his foot and then to his face that displayed an expectant expression. You sigh and rub your face. “Couldn’t you have finished it yourself?”

“I’m busy later.”

Another sigh leaves you and you step back to let him in. He enters the house, leaving his shoes by the door as he looks around the place. It was a bit messier than he had expected. There were rumpled coats hanging off of the arm of the couch, a small pack of cigarettes and a few bottles of cheap beer on the coffee table. The wallpaper was starting to fade with a few faint stains here and there.

San stays quiet as he follows you through the house, seeing the small stack of dishes waiting to be washed in the sink. He turns back to look at you, finding your silence as unnerving. You only trudged up the stairs, motioning for you to follow him. He expected to see you turn down the hallway and enter one of the rooms but was quite surprised to see you stop by a frayed rope hanging from the ceiling of the hall. You reach up and tug down on it, revealing the ladder towards the attic.

“Don’t tell me you live up there,” San jabs.

“Yeah and what of it?” You grumble, sending him a tired glare over your shoulder before climbing up the ladder.

He was stunned into silence when he realized that you were serious. He bites his tongue and refrains from jeering at you, handing the box of paints to you before climbing up. Several thoughts ran through his mind— why was your room in an attic? And since when did you start smoking and drinking? Was it even yours?

His head pokes into the surprisingly clean but small room. Your bed was pressed up near the slanted wall of the roof, several polaroids of you, your few friends, and your mother plastered along it. On the opposite side was your desk and your wardrobe whose paint was starting to chip off. Several boxes, labeled and not labeled, were pushed to the corner of the room, stacked in a way for them to take up less space.

San looks to you rummaging through your desk, probably finding a brush or something. He wordlessly steps into the room and pulls the rope, closing the trapdoor beneath him. He turns to you again and before he could stop himself, he found himself blurting the question that was plaguing his mind: “What the hell happened to you?”

You turn on your heel, almost knocking over the picture frame of you and your mom. Your hand reached out to steady it before answering San. “You’re going to have to be a little more specific than that.”

“Why do you live up here?” He motioned to the whole attic space with his arm. “Don’t you have a room downstairs?”

“I do.” You simply say and take the crate of paints, pulling out the needed colors and some paper cups for you to place them in.

When you don’t elaborate, San squats down to your level on the ground and tugs the purple paint tube out your hand. “What happened to it?”

“Why do you care?” You snatch the tube back with a hiss, preparing all the things needed. “It’s none of your business…”

The boy sighs, running a hand through his dark locks. He nibbles at his cheeks, carefully going over what he wanted to say. “...look, _____,” he starts, voice surprisingly gentle. “You don’t have to tell me everything but you don’t have to keep everything in.”

You don’t answer him or make any move to acknowledge what he had said. But you were listening; part of you decided to take down your walls for just a moment and hear what he has to say. And San seemed to sense this because he continues.

“I’m not gonna say that ‘I’m here for you’ and all that crap but, there are people who're willing to listen to you. Whatever you’re going through right now, no matter how big or small it is, you don’t have to go through it alone.”

Again, you don’t respond. A moment of silence full of high strung tension passed by. It was only a few seconds but it felt longer than that— especially since you both stopped in what you were doing and stared at the ground or at each other’s hands.

You always hated San but you couldn’t help but sense the sincerity in his words. It’s kind of pathetic but at the moment, his genuinity, the softness of the way he spoke was what you were craving for. At that moment, you just wanted assurance that things will be okay and that whatever you were doing in life wasn’t useless. And the guy you seemed to hate most was offering you that.

Tears prick at your eyes and you hastily brush it away with the sleeve of your cardigan, refusing to show any weakness to your nemesis. But it was hard; once the tears started flowing it was difficult for you to stop. You play it off by finishing up in preparing the paints, suppressing any hiccups or sobs that would escape before eventually giving up and bringing your legs up to your chin, crying into your sweats. Fuck it if San sees.

You curled up into yourself, crying into your pants when you felt a gentle but hesitant hand on your shoulder. You jolt at the touch, seeing San back away quickly. His brows were furrowed in concern and his lips were pursed, almost as if he were thinking about what he was going to say.

“G-go on, gloat,” You hiccup, choking on your tears. “I look like a m-mess anyway…”

You were surprised, and a little bit embarrassed, that he didn’t follow with what you said. Instead, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small packet of tissues and handing it over to you. He looked up to your desk, seeing your water container on your desk. He stands up to take it, shaking it to check if there was still some water in it, before placing it by your foot.

“I’m not going to lie, you are a mess,” San says before returning to his previous spot on the floor. “But I guess that’s normal when you’re having a shitty day.”

“More like a shitty life…” You mumble. You chug down the rest of your water, managing to stop your tears as you wipe them away with the tissues. You look up at the boy across you and sigh heavily. “It’s my step-mom,” you say.

“I’m sorry?”

“My step-mom. She made me move up here so that her daughters could take my room.” You explain. “My dad didn’t say anything because he’s a pushover, wasting his life away on cigarettes and the alcohol his wife buys…”

San nods slowly in understanding, finally making sense of what he saw in the living room and kitchen. That explained a lot of things: why you would always faintly smell of alcohol or nicotine a few months after your mother had died. It had honestly shocked him to hear that— your dad and step-mom always looked presentable in public. Your step-sisters were a bit more extravagant but neat nonetheless. The way they talked and carried themselves didn’t seem to indicate that they had any substance addiction.

Thinking back on it, it had also explained why you were so irate and moody almost all the time, leading to you losing some friends in high school as you fell back into yourself or into violence. It was a defense mechanism— you didn’t want to seem vulnerable because at home, you were vulnerable enough.

An idea pops into his head and he promptly stands up, momentarily making you jump from his sudden movement. You look up at him, puzzled. “What?”

“Come with me.”

“What???”

“I said get up and come with me.” San says and actually held his hand out to you.

You look at it skeptically before looking up at him, contemplating about any consequences in following him— if there were any. He wiggles his fingers, impatiently coaxing you to join him and you finally make up your mind. Might as well follow him; you had nothing to lose anyway.

You swat his hand away to get up on your own, mumbling something along the lines that you could get up yourself before straightening yourself out and placing your hands on your hips. He gives a satisfied nod and grabs his shoes to put them on. He then kicks open the trapdoor before heading back down for you to follow.

He returns to the living room with you trailing behind, still wondering where exactly he wanted you to go. When you glance at the clock you see that it’s already 5:30 in the afternoon. Your thoughts were interrupted when you felt something land by your feet. You whipped your head around to see San pointing at your shoes which he probably threw at you from the door.

“We’re heading out for a while.” He says as he exits your house. You take a moment to process what was happening when he pops his head in. “Come on slowpoke.” He ushers you.

You hastily throw on your shoes, grabbing the house keys hanging by the coat rack, and hop out of the house. You lock the door behind you and approach San who was sitting upon his notoriously loud motorbike. “Where are we going?” You ask, settling down behind him.

Your arms awkwardly flutter beside you, opting to hold onto whatever space was left on your seat. You jump in surprise when you hear and feel the engine roar to life, eliciting an amused chuckle from the boy in front of you. You glare at the back of his head, smacking his shoulder and settling yourself once more.

“Hold on tight,” San tells you as he revs up the motorbike.

“I am.” You argue and strengthen your grip on the seat, shaking the bike a little to emphasize your point.

“No you aren’t.” You feel heat rise to your face when he tutted in annoyance, taking your arms and placing them around his waist. “There you go. See? No harm done.”

You only grumble something in response, making him chuckle to himself. It was a bit strange to see you tame like this. Sure it kind of boosted his ego considering that he managed to make you flustered with just a few words and a simple action but he actually kind of liked it when you weren’t at each other’s throats. He revved up the engine again before taking off and speeding down the road.

The evening breeze is cool as it whips through your hair and brushes against you, sending small goosebumps running down your skin. A small yelp escapes you when San picks up speed, causing your grip on him to tighten. He glanced back at you for a moment before taking the turn that exits the town and towards the road uphill. It led to the small forest that overlooked the city; it was a popular place in town for hiking or camping. You remember going there to play as a kid.

The air gets chillier as you both reach a higher altitude. You unconsciously nuzzle closer to the boy in front of you in an attempt to seek some body heat. The sky grows darker, turning into a deeper blue shade as the night slowly creeps upon the town. Some stars start to peek and settle themselves in the dark blanket of the sky by the time San slows down to a stop. He had stopped by the edge of the forest, a metal railing along the opposite end to keep people or vehicles from falling off the edge.

“We’re here.” San says and looks back at you. “You can let go if you want now.”

At that, you peel yourself away from him and hop off his bike mumbling something about how cocky he was while walking over to the railings. He joins you soon after, keeping a respectable distance from you. None of you say anything at first, simply taking in the view of the city in front of you. Now know why San took you out here: to breathe and clear your mind of things; something that you didn’t know you needed at the moment.

The spot you were in allowed you to overlook the town, seeing the lights from the roads and houses down below. You could spot the water tower in the distance along with the radio tower next to it. As you survey the scene before you, you make out one house in the distance with a multitude of colored lights flashing around it.

“Looks like someone’s having a party.” You muse, finally breaking the silence.

San hums in acknowledgement. “I hope they aren’t missing me.”

It takes a moment for you to understand what he said, perking up when it made sense to you. “So that’s what you meant when you were ‘busy.’” You say as you lightly punch his arm. “You’re such an ass.”

“What? I wasn’t lying; I would’ve been busy.” He defends himself, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Yeah,” You huff. “Busy shoving your tongue down people’s throats.”

A mischievous hum. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Ew no, gross- I’ll pass.”

You share a small laugh together before settling into silence again. It was… kind of cathartic, being able to actually laugh for a long while-even if it was with your longtime nemesis. It was better than crying yourself to sleep almost every night.

You turn to lean your back against the railing, using your arms to support you as you mull over the forest.

“I used to come here a lot as a kid.” You say, managing to capture San’s attention. “Pretended to gallop along the trees like some sort of princess when I was in my horse phase… I would always come home with scraped knees. I was a clumsy kid.”

“Except when you’d throw punches at me,” San interjected, ghosting a hand over his jaw. “You sure knew how to pack a punch.”

You smile apologetically, a sheepish flush on your cheeks, and look over to him. “Well you did deliver some pretty good kicks- I needed to learn how to defend myself.”

San shrugged in agreement. “I guess,” He muses and offers you a small smile, lapsing into silence again. “You know… it’s actually kind of surprising but you aren’t so bad to talk to.”

You nibble at your lower lip at his confession, unsure of what to make of it. When you look up at him, you see that he had inched a little closer to you. He still kept a reasonable amount of space between you two but it was apparent that he wanted to get closer. He drums his fingers against the cool metal of the railing, brows furrowed as he thinks over his next words carefully.

“I’m sorry.” He blurts out. “I’m sorry for all the times I’ve been an asshole to you. I know that I’ve hurt you, not just physically, but emotionally too. And I want to apologize for that… I know, words are just words. It won’t do anything to reverse or take back what I’ve done to you then, but please, take it as a first step to making it up to you.”

San decided to meet your watery gaze, his chest clenching at the tears you were trying so hard to hold back. He holds his hand out instinctively, wanting to offer some sort of physical comfort. He stops himself midway, opting to just settle it on the rail halfway from you. “You don’t have to make a decision right here and now. You can still hate me all you want, but I promise to leave you alone from now on.”

You whimper pathetically, finally letting the tears flow down your cheeks. You felt guilt consume you at his apology. Why was he taking the blame for everything? It should be you who was saying sorry. After all,you were just as cruel as him. And thinking back on it, this feud had most likely started with you. You raise a sweater paw to wipe at your tears, sobbing into your hand.

God you were a mess.

“Don’t, don’t blame yourself… I should be apologizing too. It takes two to tango right?” You hiccup, managing to give him a shaky smile. “I could’ve chosen to ignore you or direct my anger elsewhere but I still ended up targeting you at the end of the day…”

“_______, it’s okay—“

“No it’s not.” You hiss. “I’m not just talking about what I did in high school. I’m talking about every instance I was cruel to you. It was petty, extremely childish, and just horrible overall. I don’t expect you to forgive me but I want to apologize too. I’ve made part of your life a living hell.”

You glance at his hand on the railing before holding your own out towards him. “Truce?” You offer. “We don’t have to be all buddy-buddy after this but at least we can just end this whole thing.”

San gripped your hand in a gentle but firm handshake. “Truce.” His touch lingered for

just a second before he gave a gentle squeeze and pulled away. He returned it to the previous spot on the railing.

The both of you remain for a while, just overlooking the town and reflecting on what had happened. The quiet atmosphere that you both shared suddenly didn’t seem so awkward anymore. Instead, it was filled with some tension but with a bit of comfort at the same time. It was similar to the feeling of a thorn being plucked out of your side: painful but relief that it was finally out.

You don’t expect that things would go right at once— this wasn’t like the movies or the books where everything was magically solved. You both had left some scars on each other, some that are too hard to forget or too deep to heal easily. But you two were working on it: healing and forgiving each other. It was still a long journey but it was something you were both willing to go on together.

You glance to San, seeing how relaxed he was right now. He didn’t look so annoying or so terrifying anymore. A tiny grin makes its way to your lips; never in a million years did you think you’d find solace in someone you despised so much.

“Hey San,” You call out to him, resting your hand beside his, your pinkies brushing against each other. “...thanks for this. I really needed it.”

He smiles at you, flashing his cute dimples at you. It sends a warm, tingly feeling down your spine and you couldn’t help but feel calm at that. “Glad I could help.” He momentarily pat the back of your hand, engulfing it with his larger one when you didn’t pull away.

It was late when he drove you home to finish the project. Unsurprisingly, your family was still out, probably at an event they forgot to tell you about. But you didn’t mind, you had an unexpected friend with you right now.

You smile to yourself as you wave goodbye to San from the doorway, seeing him speed down the road and into the night. He may have been the bad guy in your life but it turns out, he wasn’t such a bad guy. And you were thankful that you were able to see that because at least you knew you had someone in your corner.

#ficscafe #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez imagines #ateez angst #ateez choi san #choi san x reader #ateez san #ateez headcanons