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stackthedeck · 1 year

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i normally really do not enjoy starker but dear god i need you to write the sad old dilfs fic

Sad old dilf (singular) Tony is still in his young, dumb, and full of you know playboy era. Hear me out, I'm at my most creatively fulfilled when I look at fanon or canon and I say "that has potential but poor execution, let me help you out, let me 'yes and' you" so here's my pitch for the kind of starker fic I could get on board with (Peter B Parker x 616 adjacent Tony Stark)

Peter B Parker, according to into the spider verse, is 38 years old, freshly divorced and for the sake of keeping him at his most sad and pathetic, the plot of into the spiderverse hasn't happened yet. He is crying in the shower, still wearing the spider suit, eating pizza as we speak

The last time Tony Stark's age was mentioned in the comics he was 34 (can you fucking believe he'd be 50 in the mcu currently) but I think this pairing would benefit from Tony having just finished his origin. So lets say this Tony has just realized the error of his ways and is trying to get this whole Iron Man thing to work and for the sake of drama he's still doing that thing where he pretends the iron man is his bodyguard because I love that. That'd put Tony in his mid-twenties

Spider-Man runs into Iron Man one night, at the top of Stark tower and Peter gives him a stay out of my city new guy I don't trust you kinda talk. Iron Man is like I know I'm new at this but I've got to do something good, I've got to make him for my past mistakes, I have all this power and I need to actually use it to help people. And Peter's like...okay I didn't ask for your whole backstory dude. He also makes a snide comment about Iron Man being that spoiled brat Tony Stark's bodyguard and Iron Man says that spoiled brat pays my bills. Peter is like damn is he taking applications? Iron Man gets really excited about this because Tony is of course inspired by the first superhero this city has ever had, the one protecting people for as long as he can remember. And Peter is like, I don't do team-ups or friendships, Spider-Man is a solo act right now. But he promises to help Iron Man out in an emergency, maybe give him some hero tips. Iron Man says he wants to help Spider-Man in any way he can but Peter kinda shrugs him off

There's like some Stark charity gala that Peter is forced to cover for the Daily Bugle but oh no a super villain attacks or some shit. Peter is like fuck I'm getting too old for this but puts the suit on anyways and somehow saves Tony before he can call the iron man armor. Spider-Man has to carry him out of the building which requires some kind of cradling. Spider-Man is like are you okay while like maybe holding his face or something. Tony who is instantly down bad for anyone that shows him the slightest bit of care is obsessed

the next day, Peter gets a call from the Bugle that Tony Stark wants to give them an interview, but he insists that Peter has to be the one to do it. Peter is like shit, the super genius put the pieces together but my life can't get worse so fuck it. He goes and Tony is like, you're the guy that takes pictures of Spider-Man can you give me his number. Peter is like what. Tony wants to sponsor Spider-Man and this instantly boils over into a fight because Peter thinks Tony is trying to buy Spider-Man and you can't just buy goodness, but Tony genuinely wants to help. Peter storms out and Tony slumps against his desk with a drink in his hand. He is now down bad for Peter because his type is older men that are mean to him *cough* daddy issues *cough*

Spider-Man and Iron Man work together for some save the world type thing idk I hate action set pieces. Peter mentions that Stark tried to buy him and Iron Man suggests that maybe he was just trying to help. Peter calls bullshit, but Tony pushes and says that he could give him some upgrades to his suit or Peter could work for Stark industries, with the webs like that, the guy behind the mask also has to be pretty smart. Peter tells him a hard no. But Peter gets back to his apartment to a pile of bills and no emails back from all the jobs he applied to. So he puts his masters in biochemistry to use and applies for a position at Stark Industries. He gets a call back the next day

Tony interviews him and even though he was hoping Spider-Man would apply, he needs to fill the position and Peter is undeniably qualified. Peter notices that Tony looks like shit, he looks exhausted and like he's drinking more than usual but also he's got bruises that Peter can't imagine a CEO having. After the interview is over, Peter reaches across the desk and takes Tony's hand and earnestly asks him if he's okay, maybe does the "who did this to you?" thing. Tony nearly starts crying and melts into a puddle at the same time. He does neither of those things thankfully and tells Peter he's got the job, no reason to kiss his ass. Peter rolls his eyes and says that he can be concerned without wanting Tony's money

Peter starts at Stark Industries and he's working in the lab...with Tony. He's surprised that Tony is still getting his hands dirty and he's even more surprised that the CEO wants to work with him even though he's just a new hire. Tony needs someone with biochemical experience for three reasons, he wants the vital measurements in the iron man suit to be more precise, Stark Industries used to make chemical weapons and he wants to make treatments for the victims, and he wants to improve his chest plate and treat his heart condition. Peter is like holy shit none of that is for profit that's so sexy

As they work together, they actually become friends and at the same time, Spider-Man and Iron Man are teaming up more often. After months of working with the Iron Man armor, watching Tony try on and test the armor, Peter puts two and two together, but he understands the importance of secret identities so he keeps it to himself, but he does feel bad about the double life he's created with Tony and he can't help but compare it to how that foundation of lies was what made his and MJ's relationship so unstable in the first place

It's the anniversary of MJ and Peter's divorce and Peter is fucking distraught but comes into work anyway. Tony is like you look like shit man and Peter explains. Tony gives Peter the day off and offers to go bar hopping with him. Peter gets mad at him because he knows that Tony is pushing himself too hard just like Peter did at his age. He tells him that he's still young, still has a chance to make something of his life why is he throwing it away on drinking and this party boy life and wasting away in a lab with an old burnt-out weirdo like Peter. In the middle of Peter yelling at Tony, Tony kisses him says some cheesy pick-up line about maybe he likes being yelled at by older men.

They take the elevator to Tony's penthouse in the tower and they sleep together, Tony probably calls him daddy. Peter mostly does it because he misses MJ but also maybe he likes Tony too, he definitely cares about him. But he's also having a crisis because he's a decade older than Tony but Tony is also his boss oh god what's the responsible thing to do here. Tony is down bad for Peter, he wants this so desperately to work, needs this to work because no other relationship has given a shit about him like Peter B Parker has

Tony obviously moves too fast and instantly tries to start doing romantic gestures for Peter, nice dinners, gifts, getting physical while they're working together, etc. And Peter just kinda lets it happen like he's not opposed to dating Tony and he's definitely physically attracted to him, but he's not sure if he's ready for a romantic relationship

and then idk after that Tony probably reveals that he's iron man and Peter is like fuck I feel really bad about not telling him I'm Spider-Man and that's only going to make things more complicated. Maybe Peter tries to break it off and Tony kinda spirals so Peter as the older more responsible one feels the need to continue to care for Tony. Maybe Peter thinks they're just fwb when Tony has caught feelings idk

#asks

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sparksnevadas · 2 years

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Sparks the gods have smiled upon me and we have been so dead at work that I was able to read the new chapter and oh my gods!!!!!!!!!

I am shaking Grian violently. My dude you are so goal driven it makes you blind when your goal is right in front of you. Like yeah it's partially the denial that the HA aren't very good ppl, but bro. You are ridiculously oblivious!

Also like. Poor Mumbo, man. He's so conflicted. At least Grian gets the option to be oblivious, Mumbo just has to. Watch!

As always I love your dialogue and characterization, it's absolutely amazing!!!!

And grumbot, oh my lord grumbot. My sweet baby robot. I too am holding him like an actual baby. Bouncing him on my hip even.

Great work as always!!!!!

:3c

Mumbo being conflicted, my beloved! Its so hard to write a good ship fic when one of them is hiding their identity and the pov is not theirs! (And Mumbo’s not inherently flirty like scar!) I’ve had to make him be a little more obvious about his feelings than maybe i wouldve if it was told from his pov. He’s considering and reconsidering lots of things as he watches after Grian being an idiot. Its interesting though, from his pov, grian being an idiot makes him seem more honest? bc if he knew it was mumbo, would he act differently? (And if mumbo knew grian knew who he was, would mumbo also act differently? )

There’s a certain part of wearing a mask that lets people see and act honestly, yknow?

Grumbot! Ah, Grian bounces him on his hip, tosses him in the air, forfeits all mortal possessions to grumbot. He loves him so much and doesn’t have any reason to hide it. I would also bounce him, maybe sit him on my shoulders to let him see the world from a different height haha

Thank you so much for the comment and ask, ash! I always look forward to hearing your impression. There was literally one part of the fic where i was like “oooo i hope ash or my readers pick up on THIS” so like. Yeah! Im glad you enjoyed the new chapter. Next chapter is going to be so !!!!!!!! Aaaaa

Hope youre doing well!! Have fun at work! Im literally typing this at work too lol

#gihasm #im gonna post the meme seperately as well just so its easier to share :)#something about the ash asks always makes me make memes

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clairecrive · 3 years

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"Getaway car"- Billy Russo x reader (part 2)

A/n: thank you for all your comments on part 1! It means the world to me. Here is part 2! I hope you like it x

Warnings: slight angst but fluffy end.

Tags: @thefictionalgemini, @tarkanelima-blog, @pansysgirlfriend

@acciorudolphx, @supernaturalcat7 (if you want you can add yourself my taglist but filling this form)

You can find my other Billy fic here and my other masterlists here.

If you haven't read part 1.

No sooner had you randomly disregarded your shoes and hung your coat than a loud knock on the door came. Sighing, you opened the door without bothering to check look into the peephole.

You knew who it was.

"What are you doing here, Billy?" you asked, arms crossed standing in the doorway.

"Do you really think I'd let you go home mad at me?" without any pretense of politeness, he sidestepped you and walked in.

"Well, you were in such good company. Why would you leave?" You deadpanned closing the door.

"Let's settle this, alright?" He proposed, pointing to the space next to him on the sofa where he was sitting. You got close to him but chose to stand.

"Nothing to settle, I overreacted." This was really not a conversation you wanted to have right now. Or ever.

Billy didn't say anything but you knew he was studying you. Your body language screamed "defensive, do not approach, leave me alone". He was perceptive enough to notice and waited for you to make the first move.

"You're right, it's none of my business. I'm sorry, it won't happen again." You opted for a peaceful approach. It was his life and he could do whatever he wanted.

"Don't apologize." he hefted a sigh, his hand scrunching his beard.

"Then what do you want me to say?"

"Talk to me."

"I already did and it did not go so well if I recall correctly. So no thanks." You snickered referring to the almost fight you had less than an hour ago.

"I didn't mean to hurt you, it was not my intention. I just don't get why you get so upset about this."

"You know why."

"Are you so against- what did you call it the other day?- pretty privilege?"

"That's not it. I get upset because I actually think that the beauty you so heavily lean on is an impediment to you."

"What?"

"Think about it, Billy. It's clear that pretty privilege has made things easier for you but has it really?"

"So, what? People like what they see and so they're more willing to hire me. I don't see a problem with that."

"The problem is that that's all they see."

"And?"

"Billy, "sexy" or "handsome" or whatever are not the only words one could use to describe you."

"That's what pisses me off, see?" Opening your arms wide to prove your invisible point, you began pacing to work off your growing frustration. "You're so fucking smart, Billy. And resourceful. For God's Sakes, you're a fucking sniper. You're skilled! You're cunning, you're ambitious, you're witty, you're loyal and I could keep going on and on."

"They're downplaying you and you let them do that, why? Do you really think that you won't be able to get everything you want by showing your full potential?" You stopped your pacing to look at him as you asked him.

"They're drawn by my looks, yes, but once they hire me they see what I'm capable of. That's why they stay and keep coming back."

"You're a CEO Billy, not a GQ model. Their reason to hire you shouldn't be your looks."

"Don't care why they do it, y/n, just that they come back and spread the word."

"Okay then," defeated, you nodded accepting his point. "Then what about the company you keep?"

"They also keep coming back after they see what I'm capable of," he smirked slightly shrugging his shoulders.

"You're playing a role, Billy. You wear a mask with them and present them what you think it's the best version of yourself."

"Don't we all do that?"

"Of course we do that. But with strangers. With people who don't know us and with whom we need to make a good impression. With a possible client, with your professors on your first date but not with the people you love."

"Who said I loved any of them?"

"You're missing the point, Billy."

"No, I think you are." He said standing up. You didn't say anything but arched a brow to urge him to explain.

"Yes, they go out with the Billy they want to see. That's not me, not entirely but who cares? I certainly don't because they don't matter." "They're a means to an end, we have our fun and that's it. I don't care about what they think about me so I don't bother telling them that I'm not who they think I am."

"How can you not care?" You insisted, craning your neck to meet his eyes now that he was standing in front of you.

"I only care about the opinions of very few people," he explained light grasping your arms. "Frankie, Curtis... you."

"Me?"

"Of course," he gave you a small smile after seeing your gobsmacked expression. "Look at us, arguing because you want the best for me. Do you know how many times that happened?"

It was a rhetorical question but you shrugged your shoulders in silent answer anyway.

"Never." his dark eyes flickered between yours with an intensity you'd never seen before.

"That's what I like about you, you know? That you care about people. Like, really care. And you fight for them. You make everyone feel special and that's rare."

"You are special, Billy." You whispered not wanting to ruin the moment.

He knew you believed what you said, a chuckled leaving his lips as he shook his head. No one had ever believed and fought for him like you did. A bitter smile found its way to his lips. Billy stood by what he said to you but he also knew that women like you? Yeah, never in a million years he'd be worthy of them.

"Sometimes you manage to make me believe that I am." He confessed matching your tone, one of his hands lightly caressed your cheek.

"I'm a lucky bastard. Men like me do not get to have women like you in their lives."

"Billy-" his thumb traced your lower lip effectively halting your words.

"I'm so grateful to have met you. You make my life easier even though sometimes it can be hard to be next to you."

"Yeah, I know. I can be a bit of a drama queen." You bashfully admitted pursing your lips in embarrassment. Until Billy's thumb trailed over them causing you to relax them.

"Not what I meant," he murmured. His voice low and husky went straight to your legs. You gasped, the intensity of his words and stare and the feeling of his skin on yours overwhelming you.

"Sometimes," he continued, spurred by your reaction, "it's almost impossible for me to fight the urge to kiss you." Came his breathy confession, his thumb lightly stroking your cheek.

What?

He could see the confusion in your eyes. You were completely clueless about how he was feeling. You never dared to hope that- but he confessed, didn't he? He reciprocates.

"Who said you have to?" Now it was his time to be caught off guard. He too had never dared to hope, to entertain the idea of you feeling the same.

One of your hands cradled the one he had on your face as you leaned into his touch. To dissipate every doubt he might be feeling, to assure him that you wanted this too. That you wanted him. Always had, always will.

As your other hand fisted the material of his shirt, lightly pulled him closer, Billy released a breath over your lips as his forehead touched yours.

"Y/n..." he whispered your name in disbelief like he wasn't sure that this was really happening.

"Maybe I forgot to mention that I got so pissed because I really, really care about you."

"I might have forgotten to mention that too." Your lips brushed against each other as he spoke.

"Glad you came over then." Tilting your head to the side, you angled it so you could properly kiss him. but you didn't yet.

"Glad to be here," he said and left no room for a reply as his lips finally clashed on yours. The hands that were holding your face hold you even closer to him, your noses bumped as your lips met desperately again and again. You swallowing his breath as he did the same with your moan.

Lightly biting your lower lips, he pulled away slightly, breath heavy, eyes on fire.

"Let's make each other feel special." Was his promise as he kissed you again, this time more deeply, as his hands trailed down to your things before pulling you up. With your legs around his waist, your hands in his hair as his were holding you up, Billy made his way to your bedroom.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x you #billy russo x y/n #billy russo imagine #billy russo imagines #billy russo one shot #billy russo fic #billy russo fanfiction #billy russo fluff #billy russo blurb #billy russo angst #billy russo smut #the punisher #frank castle

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

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Time And Time Again

Dream x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: FLUFF, Romance, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Basically a rundown of some of the most recent cute moments brought to you by the most adorable will-they-won’t-they couple: Y/N and Dream.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your wonderful request, it really made my day when I received it! I hope I captured what you wanted and what you had in mind in the fic and I hope you enjoy the read! This is my first time writing for Dream so I hope I don’t mess it up hehe. Love, Vy ❤

“I don’t wanna go in the cave!“ Y/N squeals in terror when she realizes that in order to make progress in the game and continue moving onward with the story, she has to walk Blake through the dark, dingy and danger-ridden cave in Outlast 2. The gang’s all there with her on a Discord call to keep her company, knowing she’s a scaredy cat underneath that tough girl exterior. And being the scaredy cat she is while also having a preference for horror games has made Friday nights very interesting for her and her friends: her, Clay, George and Sapnap sit on a Discord server while she streams whatever horror game she had planned for the evening to her close to her thousands of viewers.

“Don’t worry, Y/N! I’ll come with you, imma hold your hand the whole time.“ Clay volunteers wholeheartedly without a second to waste.

Much to his disappointment, however, Y/N’s reply to that is: “Not until you go wash off all that cheeto dust that’s all over your fingers.“

Clay gasps dramatically, “How DARE you? I offer you help and comfort and this is the thanks I get? I hope one of those heretics in teaches you a lesson!”

While the pair are now in a full-on ‘heated’ dispute on their manners and politeness, bringing back things they did wrong as far back as three years ago, George and Sapnap are just connecting the dots silently.

“Wait, Y/N...“ George is the one to finally speak up, “How’d you know he’s eating cheetos?”

Taking a momentary break from the bickering, Y/N reassumes her more sweet tone of voice as he addresses him, “He freaking raided my cabinets and has eaten all my snacks already! He’s only been here for two hours, damn it!”

“Don’t make it sound like I inhaled a mountain of snacks in two hours! You literally had only two bags of snacks - meant for one person, mind you!“ Clay argues back, neither him nor Y/N realizing that this accidental outing will send their fandoms in a fit.

Of course, people hang out at their friends’ all the time, nothing weird there. This wouldn’t have been such a big deal to anyone if Sapnap didn’t say:

“How come Clay has the privilege of coming over to place and George and I don’t?“

Oh boy...

* * *

“Hi everyone! I know you guys couldn’t care less for an intro so Imma get right into it...“ Y/N says, all seemingly in one breath, “You see this masked man next to me? This tree of a man right here? Yes? Good, well judging by that poorly made cardboard mask he’s wearing - curtsey of yours truly - you probably already know who he is. If not, meet Dream, aka Clay, aka the raincloud above my parade.“

That specific laugh echoes throughout the room as the said tree-of-a-man wraps an arm around the significantly smaller girl’s shoulders, pulling her closer till their sides collide, “She loves me, trust me, she does.”

“Only when you bring me food though.“ She corrects him, wiggling his shoulders to see if she could set herself free from his grip but relaxing in his embrace when she realizes she won’t be going anywhere unless he willingly lets her go.

Clay tilts his head to the side to look at her through the holes poked into the mask before lifting his free arm to reveal the plastic bag he’s been holding all this time. “Oh, well then I wonder what I’ve got over here...”

“Oh my God, Panda Express! You’re the best, Clay.“ She squeals, grabbing him by the collar of his hoodie and pulling him down while she simultaneously pushes up on her toes to place a kiss on his cheek which is a tiny bit exposed to her between the mask and the hood he’s got over his head.

Before the man could even recover, he finds himself empty handed, having lost the girl and having lost the bag of food to the girl.

That kiss was worth it though.

* * *

“Ok, so I’ve seen this ‘my girlfriend does my makeup’ challenge going around and since I’m single as all hell, I got my best friend Y/N here to do my makeup.“ Clay points to Y/N who’s holding a makeup bag in one hand and is giving him a very disappointed look, “Judging by the look on her face, she’s not at all impressed but I promise to make her a bit more excited to be here in editing.“

“Of course I’m unimpressed, this is the troll video of troll videos!“ She complains, throwing her arms up, “Sure I’ll do your makeup and get a kick out of it myself but none of them will see it!“ She points to the camera, “None of them will know what amazing makeup artist skills I’ve got.“

This leaves Clay speechless for a moment, uncertain of how to reply to her statement before just deciding to say: “Well, at least you’ll be getting a kick out of it, that’s all that matters to me.”

“Aww...“ Y/N bats her eyelashes at the camera as her bottom lip forms an emotional pout, “Please don’t be so sweet to me after I just verbally kicked your ass. You always do that and make me feel like the meanest person in the world.“

“Aww Y/N, I’m so sorry.“ He says, sounding genuinely apologetic as he wraps his arms around the girl that’s tiny in comparison to him, bringing her closer to him with his tight hug.

“YOU’RE DOING IT AGAIN!“

* * *

“Hey Clay, I bought lunch on the way so I hope you’re-” Walking into her friend’s recording room abruptly, Y/N finds herself face to face with his webcam, the light next to which is glowing, suggesting the device is on and she’s currently on the screens of the thousands of people watching Dream’s stream. His mask is on - the one she made for him - of course, but she can still feel the aura of him smiling, relieving her of the worry that he’ll be irritated by her walking in like that - unannounced and without knocking. To be fair, they never announced to one another when they’d be stopping by and by this point in their friendship they have also stopped knocking too. “You’re streaming, huh?”

“Yup!“ The word is said in such a teasing manner she almost allows herself to blush, “What you got there tho?“

“Chipotle.“ She answers shortly, “And I’m starving so can we please turn your stream into a Mukbang?“ She furrows her brows as she inspects what’s on his computer screen, looking at a comment section instead of the usual screen of a game she’s used to seeing. “What are you doing, anyway?“

Looking back at his screen for a brief moment before turning back to her, Clay replies, “Oh, just reading mean comments, as one does to boost their self-esteem.”

The flash of anger he sees on Y/N’s face is most certainly not what he was inspecting to see. Mockery, yes. Humor, yes. Faux sympathy followed by some mean comments of her own, definitely. But he anger he did not see coming at all.

“Who’s talking shit about you? I’ll end them!“ Putting the plastic bag of delicious food aside, forgetting all about it in the process, Y/N grabs a chair and drags it over next to Clay’s so she too can look at his screen.

And that boy has never felt so much adoration for his best friend. Their fans - and especially their shippers - would’ve lost it if they had been able to see the look he was giving her.

* * *

(back to the ‘girlfriend/best friend does my makeup vid’)

“Ok, so what kind of look do you want me to give you?“ Y/N asks as she sits down on the stool in front of Clay, her makeup products placed on the dining table which is to her right.

“You ask me as though I know what I want.“ Clay laughs, the sticker of his mask floating above his face, following his movements as to keep his features hidden, “Just do the look you do on yourself everyday. It looks really cute on you, who knows, I might be able to pull it off too.“

“Sure thing.“ She smiles at her friend’s compliment, “Just stand still, ok?“

“Yes, ma’am.“

* * *

“Y/N, no! Stop!“ Clay warns her via the Discord call while the two are streaming Minecraft together alone for once, “Not another word!“

“But I really do feel bad!“ Y/N whines in response, “Why don’t you allow me to apologize?“

“Because there’s nothing to apologize for!“ He says, clearly done with the conversation, “I willingly gave you my jacket, you didn’t ask for it.“

“And now you’ve got a cold because of it!“ She continues arguing her case, “The least I can do is come over to take care of you.“

“I don’t need a pity nurse, thank you very much.“ Clay bites back, “But your company would be nice. Though I don’t want you to catch whatever cold I have.“

“I’d catch any cold for you, Clay.“ She replies teasingly - with a ton of honesty underneath that teasing.

Honesty both her and Clay are aware of. As well as the mob of people watching their streams right now.

~ ~ ~ And so the snowball effect continues with little moments sprinkled throughout their online presences that make the snowball of shipping get bigger and bigger. Every now and then, both Y/N and Clay let little bits of their true adoration and admiration for the other slip through. And time and time again do those moments send their fans in a frenzy.

Rightfully so.

@kia-isabelle

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immacaria · 3 years

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Prologue

Hello! How are you? I hope all of you are alright! So, this for Beetober 2021 and since @bloody-bee-tea said we can write for it too, I wrote this little thing. This fic is based on this prompt of @mingcheng-prompts and I hope that you enjoy it! It has no ship, though one of the prompts I based myself in had this intent, but it can be read as pre-relationship sangcheng or pre relationship mingcheng. Anyways, the word count is 2746 words and I hope you enjoy this a lot! Have a good day!

________________________________________________________________

When the news reached him, Nie Mingjue couldn’t say that it really impacted him though he was surprised by it and mourned the young life lost. Jiang Wanyin was a good kid and his brother’s friend and his death did shock him because he seemed like a promising young cultivator and a pretty strong kid even if he was so young. So, he paid his condolences to the family and moved on with his life, after all, he had a sect to conduct and a younger brother to control.

Months passed and people still talked about the young Jiang heir and his short life. Some said that he had taken his own life because of his mother’s constant demands and his father’s disinterest on him, others that it was his own father that arranged his death to guarantee that his first disciple would become his heir after his daughter married into the Jins and there was who believed in the official report that said that Jiang Wanyin had died in a night hunt. Not that Nie Mingjue had any motives to suspect what the Jiang clan said that happened.

But he couldn’t say with certainty that he held no doubts against their reports as he stared at the sword pointing at his neck. At first, he thought he was seeing a ghost, a young boy with pale robes and a bloodied sword by his side, and stayed back to see what he was going to do. And then he blinked and the boy disappeared from before his eyes, only to appear behind him with his sword pointed to his heart.

Nie Mingjue drew Baxia out on instinct and they fought for a good while, sometimes with him having the upper hand and sometimes with the boy. He was about to get it back when the boy ducked and swept his feet off the ground, falling over him and pressing a knee against his chest and the sword against his neck. He was wearing a mask that showed only his eyes and held half of his hair up by a pale and simple purple ribbon that matched his robes in color and discretion. It was just then that he recognized who he had been fighting against. Oh, gods, Huaisang is going to kill me., he thought as he said. “Jiang Wanyin?”

“Nie-zongzhu?” Jiang Wanyin said, eyebrows furrowing lightly before his eyes widened and he jumped back, bowing in apology but not sheathing his sword back. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same. Shouldn’t you be dead?” Slowly, he got up and if he wasn’t looking so closely, he would have missed the way that his eyes trembled slightly before they narrowed angrily at him.

“I’ll ask you one more time. What are you doing here?” He brought his sword up, assuming a defensive stance even though he moved Baxia back to his back.

“Near Qinghe? I don’t know, making the rounds, maybe.” And escaping my elders., he added mentally. Not that he was going to tell him that, anyways.

“Oh. Oh!” He brought his sword down again and Mingjue resisted the urge to smile at the cute way he opened his mouth minutely, as if finally realizing that he was near Qinghe. “I’m just passing, sorry for trespassing.” He bowed again, bringing his hands up after he put his sword back in its sheath. “Please, don’t tell anyone you saw me.”

“No that anyone would ever believe me. You are dead, after all.” He said, watching as the younger boy kneeled near a tree and started pulling some plants before pressing them together until a plaster was formed. “Are you hurt?”

“No. I’m doing this for fun.” He moved his head to the sides quickly, his voice reaching a false and too happy tone before going back to his usual tone and this time he didn’t resist the urge to snort. “Shouldn’t you keep going? You never know what kind of creatures are waiting in the shadows while you are here with a minor ghost like me.”

“I don’t think you would be a minor ghost if you were really dead.” He stepped closer to him in time to see a gushing wound on his calf. “What happened?”

“I cut myself. Nothing more.” And it was just then that he noticed how pale Jiang Wanyin looked and how his hands were trembling as he applied the plaster over the black-rimmed wound. Nie Mingjue tried to remember what could do a wound like that as he bandaged it tightly. “Bye, Nie-zongzhu. Have a good day.”

“Wait, Young Master Jiang.” He grabbed his wrist, forcing him to stop. “You should have a look at that, a professional look. It looks bad.”

“Ghosts don’t need healers, Sect Leader Nie.” He pulled his arm back, trying to get him to let go. “And don’t call me that. Young Master Jiang is dead, haven't you heard?”

“Then who are you?” They stared at each other for some time before he sighed and motioned for him to lead the way.

“Go on, let’s end this soon.” He stepped aside, stopping fighting against his hold.

“Alright, but what should I call you?” He pressed, letting go of his wrist and taking a step back.

“Ghos-...” He stated, before his eyes rolled back and he fell down to the ground, only missing hitting his head because Mingjue held him in time. Without thinking, he jumped on Baxia and fled back to Qinghe with the boy, who shouldn’t be as alive as he was, in his arms and paleing at every second that passed. His healers looked at him suspiciously and tried to fuss over him too, but nodded when he said he was fine and asked for discretion and no comments before he went to fetch his brother.

After he explained everything, Nie Huaisang only nodded and told him to go on with his day, that he would make sure that his friend was okay. It was well after lunch when he appeared again with a fierce look on his face and a plan at the tip of his tongue. Apparently, Jiang Wanyin wasn't going anywhere anytime soon because the wound was poisoned and the plaster had the contrary effect of what he thought it would, quickening the poisoning and because Nie Huaisang himself wasn’t letting him go anywhere.

“For all the effects, he is our cousin and his courtesy name is Nie Qinghua, he uses a mask because it’s tradition on that branch of the family and his passing time with us for better education.” Nie Huaisang said, opening his fan with a flick of his wrist and staring at him with what seemed a challenge. “He is not coming back, Da-ge.”

“Alright. And I really doubt he would like to, with the way he was insisting he was dead.” Nie Mingjue said, putting the letter of the Sect Leader Yao down and his chin on his palm. “Does he agree with this? Or did you just take a half-coherent noise as agreement and follow through with your plan?”

“Of course he agreed with this.” His fan quickened in speed and he raised an eyebrow. “Fine, I’ll ask him again when he’s more awake.”

“Good.” He smirked, getting back to the letter. “What is his given name?”

“The same as before. But nobody from before is getting close enough of him to call him by his given name.” His brother got up, closing his fan with a snap before pointing it at him. “He is not going back to them, Da-ge. He is not.” The challenge was still on his eyes as he walked away from the throne room and Nie Mingjue thought that everyone who ever said that he was weak and unfit for the Nie clan had never truly seen where Huaisang’s strength really stood.

Two days later, Jiang Wanyin - for the outsider world, Nie Qinghua now - was up and actively agreeing with Huaisang’s plan. He explained that no, he did not die or faked his death but rather got lost after a night hunt and slightly disoriented after a particularly strong hit - At this, his cheek got adorably red and Nie Mingjue smiled at that. When he finally managed to get back home, he heard the rumors that he was dead and then he left, starting to wander around as a rogue cultivator. The gushing wound was apparently the night hunt’s fault too.

And just like that, Wanyin started to live with them and, at some point, he became Nie Mingjue’s first adviser and Nie Huaisang’s unwilling model to everything. Slowly, he wriggled his way into Qinghe’s lifestyle, starting to advise him over his shoulder and his acid humor while join the disciples every day on their training to learn the Nie style of fighting even if both Nie Huaisang and Nie Mingjue said that he didn’t need to. After he recovered fully, both of them started to spare everyday, early in the morning, finishing their exercise right before Nie Huaisang woke up and claimed him fully until he was needed in a meeting or something.

Despite his young age, Jiang Wanyin was really smart and had good ideas to help the clan, though some did have that eager hope that everyone was better than they seemed. He liked to discuss everything about the leadership of a clan and involved himself truly with the disciple’s training, supervisioning it every time he could and always wanting to know more about everything and everyone. He was strict, though, stricter than Nie Mingjue sometimes and more times than now they would be in a situation where they would be playing the strict and relaxed parents while his disciples tried to hide their amused laughs and grins behind their sleeves and each other’s shoulders.

When the cultivation meeting’s happened, Jiang Wanyin always sat between him and Nie Huaisang, wearing the mask that they ordered especially for him and combined with his new robes. At first, the other Sect Leaders were suspicious of him, especially Jin Guangshan and Jin Guangyao, who had been recently officialized after he proved his value. They tried to discover more about his past, but they weren’t capable of passing Nie Huaisang’s schemes and the Qinghe people’s loyalty to their new second in command that somehow managed to be even more hard-headed than their Sect Leader.

Even though they were suspicious, none of them suspected who Nie Qinghua really was and it was obvious it got to Jiang Wanyin when he introduced himself to his shije and shige again and none of them recognized him, simply smiling politely and introducing themselves back before leaving. He tried to make it look like it didn’t affect him as much as it did, but by that time Nie Mingjue knew him a little bit better and, not for the first, he wished he could declare war against the Jiangs for making this special and sweet boy so self-conscious and afraid of love. For the looks of it, his people agreed with him.

Eight years passed without further incidents and Jiang Wanyin had grown up a lot since he became Nie Qinghua. He learned a lot of the Nie’s style and some of the disciples, the younger ones especially, started to pick up on some of the Jiang’s style and Nie Mingjue couldn’t say he was really angry or offended at it. Not when it not only saved some of them, but made Wanyin’s eyes light up when he noticed that they were imitating.

But, nothing lasts forever and though their time together wasn’t free of worries and fights, Nie Mingjue couldn’t really say that he had a bad time with him by his side. It was some months before Wanyin’s twenty-four years birthday when his first qi deviation happened and he didn’t want to think why it took longer than it should. He stayed bedridden for only four days before he was up and working again, against both Wanyin and Huaisang’s protests, right in time for the last cultivation conference that unfortunately was being held at Qinghe.

“Mingjue, really, you should call this off. You are in no condition to head a meeting like this.” Jiang Wanyin said, crossing his arms as Nie Mingjue finished the last of his braids.

“Exactly, Da-ge! If you won’t listen to me, listen to A-Cheng!” Nie Huaisang said, passing his guan to him and hitting his shoulder weakly with his fan. “Just thought about all the bragging that Sect Leader Yao is going to do and how Sect Leader Jin is going to do whatever pleases him and nitpick everything!” He pleaded and Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes at them as he stood up.

“I did and if the Healer Zhao says I am good to go, then I’m good to go.” He tightened his belt and turned to both of them with a raised eyebrow. “I’m fine, I’m going to be fine and if Sect Leader Yao starts to talk too much bullshit, I will simply throw Baxia at him and keep going.”

“Da-ge, do not throw Baxia at Sect Leader Yao!” Nie Huaisang said, following after him before stopping on his track with a questioning look. “Though it would be hilarious to see it and, probably, very effective. Alright, Da-ge, you can throw Baxia at Sect Leader Yao but only enough to scare him.” He nodded and Jiang Wanyin chuckled beside, his arms still crossed as he followed them a few steps behind.

“He would jump so high!” He chuckled, trying to hold back his smile as Nie Mingjue looked at him over his shoulder.

“And what about the scream he would let out?” He asked, very pleased with himself when both him and his brother started snickering like crazies. Really, he raised two monsters, he really did. “Ok, ok, control yourselves, we are here.” Two minutes passed before he stepped into the conference room and greeted all the other Sect Leaders there, sitting on his chair and trying to not let any anger settle in. It was all going fine and smooth until Jin Guangshan made an unfortunate comment and Jiang Wanyin responded it with sarcasm out of instinct.

“What was that, Nie-guwen?” Jin Guangshan said and Nie Mingjue immediately zoomed back in the conversation when he noticed it was to Wanyin he was talking with.

“Nothing, just agreeing that it's a very intelligent idea to go on with that marriage agreement when both parties are so interested in it.” He shrugged and Mingjue leaned towards Nie Huaisang with an inquisitive look.

“They are talking about Jiang-guniang and Jin-gongzi's marriage, Da-ge. Really, weren’t you listening?” He rolled his eyes, holding his fan higher as Jin Guangshan pointed at Wanyin and asked what the Nie clan had to do with the agreement between the clans Jin and Jiang.

“Nothing, Sect Leader Jin. But my cousin was only stating what everyone thinks about it and you asked him what he thought about it too, after all.” Nie Mingjue intervened when Wanyin’s shoulders tensed up. “He merely answered.”

“Sect Leader Nie, I know that you and your brother are very protective of your cousin, but you should really leave him to talk for himself. He is your advisor, after all.” Jiang Fengmian interjected and he saw Nie Huaisang’s fingers tightening against the fan. “I know he must be very intelligent or he wouldn’t have become your first advisor, after all.”

“And doesn’t show his face.” Sect Leader Yao muttered, probably thinking that nobody could hear him when it was exactly the contrary.

“I am, Sect Leader Jiang, but it would be very unkind to my cousin if I spoke over him every time.” Jiang Wanyin said, crossing his arms. “And I don’t show my face because of a tradition on my side of the family, Sect Leader Yao, but if my face will give you more trust in my opinions…” He lifted one of his hands, moving to remove his mask. “Then I will gladly remove it for you, Sect Leader Yao.”

“Wait, A-Hua.” Both Nie Huaisang and Nie Mingjue moved to stop him, but it was too late and he had already removed it.

“See? Happy now?” He waved the piece of cloth to the side as Jiang Fengmian stared at him with wide eyes.

“Wanyin?” Fengmian said, getting up from his seat.

“Hi, A-Die. How are you?”

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ofpineapplesanddawns · 2 years

Note

For the Illogical Husbands where they are married when Alec goes to Broadchurch, could we get something where a) he is hiding his heart condition from Bill b) Daisy lives with them and they accompanied Alec to the town c) town people’s reaction to same sex marriage/parents.

This has been sitting in my drafts for a few days and decided to finish it, but was this meant to be one whole one-shot? Or was I supposed to pick?

I kind of worked with the last two because I couldn't figure out how to keep the heart condition thing hidden from Bill. He's a doctor of a different field of study, but from my experience with doctors, you gotta at least know the basics, so Hardy would so be unable to hide his heart condition from Bill. However, Hardy is an idiot and won't tell him it's gotten worse in the time since they've been apart since the transfer.

By the way, the crime Hardy mentions in this, before the Danny case, is canon to the novel and short story collection.

On with the fic!

"Do you like it here, Dad?" Daisy asked over dinner, at a little place in this God-forsaken town.

She was here now, with Bill, they both just arrived yesterday, though Hardy had been here for over a month. Hardy set his menu down, letting out a sigh, sinking slightly in his seat in the booth.

He ignored the look that his husband had given him, really not in the mood for a minor lecture about his terrible posture. "To be honest? God, no. I hate it here, it's so... even before the murder, everything here was so boring, too clean, too simple. The worst crime I had to deal with was about some punks stealing from donation boxes."

He wished that had stayed at the worst crime, he really had, considering that literally the next day was when Danny Latimer's body was found on the beach.

"And yet you are probably going to have us move here?" Bill asked, not to be condescending, but out of curiosity.

"The force here has no experience with things like this, it wouldn't hurt for me to stick around to get them into better shape."

Their waitress arrived, her plastic smile in place as she took their orders. Hardy knew it was fake because that's how servers always were, unless if they knew you personally in a happy sense. But strangers or people they didn't care for? The fake smile of someone who really didn't want to be here, it was much more common when Hardy went to the states to visit Bill.

But he could tell the waitress was looking at him curiously, he had eaten here three times now, twice by himself, once with Miller because she forced him. He had never been in here with other strangers, a teenage girl who clearly was related to him, and a man around his age who he was not related to.

Who also happened to be wearing a wedding band that matched Hardy's own.

It wasn't the first look they've gotten since they walked in. Hardy wasn't afraid of who he was, he was a man who presented himself as he was, he didn't hide behind masks. He had walked in with his husband's hand in his own, because he missed holding his hand, he missed his husband. He missed his daughter as well, who had went with Bill to the states, to see her step siblings, while Hardy had gotten set up here for the job.

He missed his family, and damn these people for watching him as they came in and took their seats.

"You look like you ate a lemon." Daisy commented, frowning. "What's wrong, Dad?"

Hardy reached for his glass of water, taking a sip. "Nothing."

"Doesn't seem like nothing." Bill spoke, sitting up straight. "You keep glancing about, I think you even glared at our waitress."

"She was staring at us."

"People do that."

"No, I mean... staring at us. Like some of these nosy people are doing now." Hardy replied, his voice low, quiet. Daisy and Bill seemed to have finally noticed what Hardy had since they first arrived.

His daughter made a disapproving look. "What's their problem?"

"They don't like me to begin with." Hardy spoke. "Don't exactly have the best reputation in this town already, as I figured would be the case. They're gossipy, they look for anything they learn about you and use it against you."

"Sandbrook?" Bill asked and Hardy nodded.

"A few of them seem to have knew about it at first, then the 'worst cop in Britain' paper was printed."

"The bastards!" Daisy exclaimed and Bill snorted while Hardy gave her a small, disapproving look. "What? That's what they are!"

"I know, but language, love. At least in public."

"Yes, leave that to your father here." Bill snickered and Hardy gently elbowed him, but smiled none the less. Then frowned once more when he heard someone cough loudly, rudely.

"Hm. Right, well, I think now we've given them more fuel to look at me like I'm a black stain on this town's reputation. Lots of older, small town folks, I don't think they greatly approve of our 'lifestyle'."

Bill scoffed. "That's their problem, if they don't like the fact that their new DI has a husband and a daughter who love him dearly, then they can go jump in the ocean."

"Right, Dad, you shouldn't let it bother you." Daisy pointed out.

Hardy looked at them both, thankful for these two, especially with how things have been going for him lately since he first arrived. The rise in his health problems, the stress from the case, what happened to Jack the other day, and how he knew this was harming not only the Latimers, but his partner in the case as well.

"I know, I just don't want some idiot dragging you two into this." If anyone, it would be that little pain in the ass Olly who would write up something. He really didn't need that punk finding out about Bill's own reputation from years back.

"Well, if anyone tries anything, I'll do my best to ignore it all, or give them a piece of my mind. I'm not taking shit from anyone here." Bill shrugged.

"Yeah, and besides, this town has bigger things to worry about than a bisexual detective, right?" His daughter asked, and once more, Hardy was so thankful for them.

"Right, yeah, best to not let things get to me. Sorry, it's been a stressful few weeks."

Bill nodded, placing his hand over Hardy's own on the table. "I know, but you're so close, it's just a matter of time before you catch the killer, right?"

"Of course." God, he hoped so, he wasn't sure how much longer he could take this. Even still, at least his family was here with him again, so there was something positive in all of this.

(I know I'm meant to be taking a break, but I had worked on this a bit yesterday and wanted to finish it up today)

#illogical husbands #broadchurch #masters of sex #alec hardy #bill masters #daisy hardy #john's drabbles #good omens extended universe

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teddy06writes · 3 years

Text

Of Iron Rings, Lost Things, and People With Wings

requested by this anon: “Hii Teddy! I don't know if your request are open, if not, just feel free to ignore this ask :] So could I request fae!dream x reader where he wants to tricks her but she doesn't fell for it and with time he falls in love with them?

I don't know if you're familiar with fae lore with stuff like don't give your name when they ask bc they'll be able to control you, iron burns them, they love shiny things or don't accept their food or you'll be stuck where they live etc stuff like that?

Thank you in advance if you write it and thank you anyway even if you don't lol Btw, I read most of your stuff (only 2 or 3 remains for now) and I love your fics with all my heart! 💜💜 I don't comment in general, I'm more of a lurker actually, but I can tell you now in anon :) I can't thank you enough for providing this amazing content for free. Anyway, I hope you have a good day and stay hydrated! :D”

Fae!dream x reader (ish)

trigger warnings: idk If there's anything to tag about faes

premise: you happen to come across a fae during your adventures through the forests

also reader wears jewelry, still gender neutral though.

{oh my god anon i think i’m in love with you. This is one of my favorite requests that I’ve gotten, idk if it turned out exactly as you hoped, but I really like writting it!}

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It had started when one of your earrings went missing.

You were sure you had put it safely in the box on the window ledge, but now you were second guessing yourself.

But, things go missing all the time, so you thought of it no longer.

That was until you realized many of your things had begun to go missing. Coins, jewelry, and trinkets.

Now you were seriously beginning to think that this was not just a coincidence.

So, today on your trip into the woods, you made sure all of your windows were tightly shut, and your door locked.

That was about an hour ago now, but you could hardly think of it as you wandered down the new path you had found.

A nagging voice in your head told you to be wary, but still, you wanted to keep exploring.

As you continued down the path you saw a small, shiny object sticking up out of the dirt.

Bending down you picked it up, rubbing the dirt off.

“...my earing....” You murmured, looking at the small object in your hand, confused.

Shaking your head, you tucked it into your pocket and continued on your way.

Only a dozen steps later you spotted a coin, again dropped in the dirt.

Picking it up you looked around, “Hello? Is somebody out here?”

There was no answer, only the sounds of the forest, and the sound of almost chuckling that you chalked up to being the wind.

Turning at the next bend in the path you saw a clearing, and a gasp escaped your mouth, in the middle of the clearing, on a stump, stood the eye piece of your telescope. Well, the broken one, but it had gone missing all the same.

You hurried forward to grab it, ignoring the mushroom’s that ringed the edge of the grass.

“Well hello there!” A cheery voice said.

You jumped, turning to see an odd looking figure, dressed in green, with a strange white mask upon his face. A small wiry pair of wings floated up behind him. “Who are you?!”

Behind the mask he seemed to grin, bowing to you dramatically, “I am Dream! May I have your name?”

You looked at his outstretched hand, barley holding back a laugh, “No. But you may call me (y/n).”

He frowned, but quickly tried to move on, looking to the eye piece you held, “Are you trying to take my positions?”

“This is mine.” You said.

“Well perhaps I could let you have it,” He smirked, “For a price.”

You rolled your eyes, “What price?”

“I will let you keep that spy glass, if you give me what you humans desire most.” He said.

You though a moment, adjusting the bag on your shoulder, debating if you could fool him, “Deal.”

Dream grinned, offering his hand out to shake.

You chuckled to yourself as you clasped his hand in your two.

“AHHH!” He screeched, pulling away at the pain of your rings against his hand.

“Oops.” You feigned shock.

He rolled his eyes, holding out his other hand, “Now give me the proposed price.”

You dug through your bag a moment, pulling out a small wrapped package and handing it to him, “There you go, what I, and most humans, desire most.”

“What-” He torn through the paper, confused to find a slice of cake in his hand, “What is this? You have dishonored our deal!”

“No I didn’t. That is a cake from Niki’s bakery, everyone who’s ever heard of it, desires to try it, what did you think you were going to get?” You asked.

Dream frowned, “Lov- not- not what ever this is!”

You shrugged, “our deal is done, now if you’ll excuse me, I must be going.”

He turned to watch you head back down the path. The human that he’d tried for so long to romance, out of his grip again.

#mcyt x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #dream x reader #teddy06 writes

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tsumuniri · 3 years

Text

━━━ Atsumu Miya is a free-loader. Living inside his twin brother's home as if it was his, he would bring home girls and annoy Osamu most of the time. Y/N L/N is quite the opposite apparently because she's a virgin loser. Being the popular anonymous BL mangaka known as Yamazaki, she stays in the homey abode of her parents and watches boys from afar for references (not for admiration sadly).

Now what will happen if fate decided to tie these two idiots together and made them live across each other in one apartment?

。m.list ❯❯ ┃next

ZERO ━━ WHO’S KICKING WHO NOW?

DO YOU GET NERVOUS to the point you wouldn't be surprised that you already took a shit, not pee, but discharge the residue on your pants? That's how a certain H/C-haired female felt as she sat across the table with her editor on the other side. It was only a figurative speech, though; if she took it literally, Y/N would gladly dig her own grave and plan her funeral up to what kind of horrid gown she'd be wearing in her casket.

It wasn't your fault to be this anxious. You've been doing this type of gig for almost five years, yet you couldn't help but tremble slightly on your seat as you noiselessly wait for the male editor to enlighten you with comments in regards to this unreleased chapter. You hate having to go through this type of initiation, but hey, you love your job nevertheless.

"Great work today, L/N-san. You accurately followed my advice when it comes to the panels. As expected from your skills and experiences in the field." Akihito remarked, pushing up his glasses with his thumb and closing the original copy of the printed manuscript.

You now had the ability to breathe as you draw out a deep sigh of relief. "Well, thank the gods for that! When you criticized the paneling of this chap two days ago, I panicked a bit and had to rearrange them all." You rambled on and began to ravish the food on your tray to satisfy your empty stomach. It was a bit difficult to comprehend your words due to the continuous eating of the delicious french fries. However, your editor somewhat understood you in the end.

Akihito watched you chowed down on the poor potato snack and shook his head from the ridiculous spectacle of your hungry state. "You're the infamous Yamazaki, but you asked me to meet up with you in a place like this?" He panned out.

"What do you mean? And didn't I tell you not to say my pen name out loud? What if people might hear you!"

"Y/N, we're in McDonald's." Your editor frowned, gesturing around the place full of children with a nudge of his thumb. With the sudden dilemma of your hidden identity, he cocked a brow and turned his head to glance at the screaming little monsters chasing each other on the matted floor. It was clear to him that these youngsters didn't pay any mind to their talk.

"We took the table by the playground. I don't think kids of their age would know someone who makes picture books of men sucking-".

"ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT! STOP!" You cut him off right before he could finish his ambiguous statement. You took a bite on the fry you were holding and dipped it in the blob of ketchup on the tissue paper. "I chose this fast-food resto because the atmosphere in this place is loud. I don't want someone to hear you nor see the material you're reading." You licked the salt off your fingers once you finished eating your fries.

His slanted eyes squinted in suspicion as his onyx irises surveyed your get-up from head to toe. Your patterned sock-covered feet nestled on black Adidas slippers as you had plaid trousers that seemed to look like matching pajama pants of a clothing set. The white shirt with the oppai logo you wore made up for your lacking asset. However, the best feature of this apparel you came up with was the unusual pair of large rimmed shades covering your eyes. "It seemed like you do know how to act natural, Y/N..." Akihito trailed, deciding not to ridicule the outfit you chose to wore for their meeting since he knew you were in a hurry to meet the deadline.

Your eyes glanced at the watch wrapped around your wrist and realized the current time. "I better get going. My mom would kill me if I didn't do the groceries. Thank you for today, Akihito!" You pushed yourself off the table, sitting up from the cushioned seat then bowing towards the male.

The brunette also stood up for courtesy's sake, softly smiling at you in gratification. "Thank you for your hard work as well, L/N-san. I'll make sure to send out a copy of the weekly magazine as soon it releases to the public. Your international fans will definitely enjoy this chapter once the global publishing company releases the translated magazine." He assured.

"Well, I'm happy to hear that everyone gets to enjoy my works! I'll see you soon, Akihito." You gave him a lazy grin as you turned your back and left for your pending chore.

"That man sure bought a lot of cleaning products." You thought out loud as you recalled the fascinating scene of a fellow shopper with a basket full of cleaning merchandise. You couldn't pinpoint his looks since the guy was wearing a face mask. But from his athletic build and large hooded eyes that made the other shoppers distance themselves away, you had a feeling he's good-looking. It wouldn't be surprising if he already has a girlfriend.

Or a boyfriend if he likes bananas over tacos.

Your little bubble of thoughts soon popped as you stood outside the gate of your household, staring at the moving boxes stacked on the grassy floor of your mother's garden. 'Now, what are they up to?' You mused, having a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach from the cardboard packages.

You hoisted up the two paper bags full of groceries against your chest and pulled the gate open. "Mom! Dad! I'm Home!" You greeted out, walking past the boxes and almost tripping on one of them. Your left arm had lifted the groceries with difficulty as you used your other hand to twist the doorknob of the front door.

The spruce door was pushed open by your right arm. As you took a step inside, your ears caught a pitched bark from the end of the hallway. A smile fixed on your lips once the familiar energetic sound registered in your mind.

"Kazu!" A short-coated corgi ran out from one of the doorways as it continued to bark and jump from the excitement of its owner arriving back at home. Its fluffy butt waddled with every step it took with its soft paws— bouncing a couple of times once you called out its name.

You smiled from ear to ear, "You miss me, boy?" You cooed, slipping out of your slippers and setting the bags of groceries on the hall table by the door. The dog barked softly and looked up at you with his beady eyes, wagging his tail and letting out another bark in reply. You would've played with this cute bunch that the gods have blessed you with, but the questions about the boxes haven't stopped galling you for answers.

"Where's mom and dad, Kazu?"

Kazu tilted his head and barked as if the corgi understood what you were trying to tell him. The dog turned around and darted over to the staircase leading upstairs. 'Maybe that's why they didn't hear me.' You thought to yourself and followed your dog over to the flight of stairs. The fluffy puppy used his time in climbing up the steps, but you decided to scoop the dog up in your arms and carry him midway due to how hard of a time the corgi's having.

You gently placed Kazu back on the floor after you both reached upstairs. Your brows furrowed together as you caught the sight of the two pieces of luggage outside your bedroom door. If your gut was telling you before that something grave might happen, it was screaming at you now that something will. "Mom?" You called out for your mother, needing an explanation for what the hell her parents are doing to her room.

Finally, the said person peeked her head out from the doorway of your room. "Y/N, dear! Welcome back!" She smiled and waved her hand to beckon you over to her side.

"Since you're finally here, your father and I have some great news for you!"

You eyed your mother, suspicious by the way she's acting, but you still heeded her command and took hesitant steps in the direction of your bedroom. "What's happening, mom? Why are you guys in my r-" You weren't able to finish your sentence as you find yourself in an almost empty bedroom with your father sealing a box with packaging tape.

The middle-aged man looked up from what he was doing and beamed once he saw his daughter walked inside the room, "My lovely girl! Great timing! Help your old pal in bringing your stuff outside the house." He hummed.

You didn't know what to say— you already had an idea of what the old couple was about to do, but you don't want to believe it. Your wide eyes shifted between your mother and father, "Don't... Don't tell me that..." You stammered as you were in disbelief from the current event playing right in front of you.

"We're kicking you out, Y/N!"

## and this is the first fic that i posted here on tumblr! though, i already published it in wp as well LMAO. i hope you enjoyed reading the prologue :'>

#haikyuu!!#atsumubrainrot #atsumu miya #atsumu fic #atsumu x female reader #msby atsumu #haikyuu atsumu #atsumu fluff #msby sakusa #miya osamu #hq osamu #hq atsumu #ishiwrites #IFINALLYUSEDTUMBLR #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you

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galahadwilder · 3 years

Text

Future Perfect

This is my @mlsecretsanta fic for @crispypata! Crispy asked for DJWifi and Bunnyx, so I delivered.

It’s been a long week, and Alya is grateful for some alone time. While it’s always nice to have the others around, there’s an unstated pleasure in being the only one of her friends awake this early. Nino and Marinette are always asleep until very shortly before class, and Adrien may be awake, but his driver won’t be here for at least another twenty minutes. That’s a precious twenty minutes away from her sisters, away from anybody else. A precious twenty minutes of quiet.

Normally she’d spend this time updating the Ladyblog, moderating comments, writing posts, but after last night’s battle she just… she needs some time. Time to herself.

She’s shaking, just a little. She’s not even touching her phone. For the first time in a while, she’s actually reading a physical comic book—specifically, The Mighty Majestia Issue #48. Her first comic. A gift from her father when she was a little girl. It used to make her feel better when things were going bad. She needs that, a little bit, today. The feel of the paper under her fingertips.

It wasn’t her first near-death experience—she’s had a lot of those since Hawkmoth appeared in Paris. But Ladybug almost hadn’t made it last night. Alya had gone running after the Akuma, like usual, and…

A body flops down next to her on the bench. The warmth and weight of it—she glances to the side, and meets the familiar warm eyes of Nino.

“You okay?” he asks, laying his hand on top of the comic. “You haven’t read this since before we met.”

Alya nods. “Last night was bad,” she says.

Nino nods. “Yeah,” he responds. “Yeah it was.”

He doesn’t say anything else.

Alya is rarely the most perceptive person—more passionate than perceptive, honestly, though not for lack of trying (she tries really hard, it’s just… hard to tell what other people aren’t saying sometimes)—but she cares, and Nino is at school forty minutes before he’s usually awake and he seems unusually tense. She closes her comic. “Babe?”

Nino sighs, looking down as he picks at a hangnail on his thumb. “I can’t keep watching you die, Als.”

Alya’s heart judders. “You’re not okay, then.”

He shakes his head. “I mean Rena Rouge is one thing. I know you can protect yourself, and Ladybug is right there if things go bad. But every time I see you chase after a giant baby with no protection but that sexy plaid shirt...”

“I have a responsibility, Nino!” she says.

“I know,” Nino says quietly. “I can’t really ask you to stop, either.”

Alya swallows. “Are you... breaking up with me?”

Nino looks at her for a moment, then snorts. “Hell no.” He reaches up to Alya’s cheek, brushing her hair away from her ear. “You ain’t getting away from me that easy, girl.”

Alya relaxes, leaning into his palm. “Attaboy,” she says.

Nino grimaces. “I might… need a day or two to process, though.” He swallows. “I’m sorry.”

Alya’s heart falls. “You’re sure.” It’s not a question—Nino doesn’t make decisions half-cocked the way she does. He thinks, and considers, and once his choice is made, he sticks to it. That surety—that stability—is one of the reasons she loves him. Even if right now it’s hurting her.

“I’m sure,” he says. “Just… I need a few days after. You know.” He hangs his head. “Seeing you die again.”

Oh, God, Alya wants to slap him. And maybe a year ago she would have. But today-Alya is not last-year-Alya, and, instead, she just drops her head a little. “It was a bad one, wasn’t it,” she says.

Alya trudges out of class, dragging her feet. It’s been a difficult day, to say the least, and Marinette—bless her—may be trying to help, but there’s not all that much to do.

“We could go to my place and stuff ourselves with Beignets,” Marinette offers, with her characteristic hyperenergetic movement. “I know you love the Majestia movie?”

Alya shakes her head. “I relax a bit better when I move,” she says. She looks at the basketball hoops. “Can you stick around for…” She catches a hint of green out of the corner of her eye—a familiar shade, one that she’s seen quite a lot. She blinks. “For a few…” She turns her head, and there—staring down at her from the roof of the school—is Carapace. “Uh.”

Marinette follows her gaze. “What are you—”

Carapace’s head jerks as he seems to realize that he’s been spotted, and he leaps down out of sight.

“What is he doing?” Alya murmurs.

Marinette’s iron fingers wrap around her bicep. “Alya,” she hisses, “that’s not Carapace.”

“What do you mean?” Alya says, turning her head, just in time to catch a glimpse of Nino—as Nino, not as Carapace—walking out of the locker room on the opposite side of the school from where Carapace disappeared. It’s too soon, too fast—there’s no way he could’ve come around the school that quickly.

“Excuse me,” she says, bolting towards her boyfriend. She grabs his arm and yanks him away from Adrien.

“Babe... what?” he says, looking at her like she just grew a second head.

“I just saw Carapace on the roof,” she hisses.

His eyes widen behind his glasses.

They didn’t really discuss it, at least not verbally, but they both pretty easily came to the decision that whoever this is, stealing their identities is not something this person gets to get away with. They don’t even talk it through before they’ve agreed to chase this imposter down.

“You’re sure he went this way?” Nino asks as they charge off down the street toward where Alya had last seen the false Carapace.

“Yes, I’m—!” Alya starts to snap, before she catches herself and—stopping her headlong charge by pressing a palm into a nearby wall—breathes in. “Sorry, sorry.” She glances at him. “Pretty sure, yeah.”

“God, I wish I had my shield,” Nino mutters. He grabs her hand and meets her eyes with his characteristic Nino Soft Look. “If this ends up being a bad one, please take cover?”

Alya grimaces. “The Akuma is using your face, Babe,” she says.

“Please.” His voice is calm and soft.

Alya thinks about how distraught he was this morning, how little she wants to do that to him again. “I’ll—I’ll try.”

Nino smiles. “That’s really all I can ask, isn’t it.”

Alya smiles, tugging him along. “You knew I was crazy when I asked you out,” she says, building carefully building back up to a run.

Nino snorts, vaulting over a street barrier. “That I did.”

It takes barely a minute before they reach the spot where the false Carapace must’ve gone, leaving them looking down wide avenues packed with people—none of whom are wearing a green hood.

“We lost him,” Nino says, puffing.

“I mean,” Alya gasps, “duh.” She leans onto her knees. “He’s got—powers, and we—we have, what—about eight—months of parkour training?”

A familiar whizz-crack comes from above, as a spotted red figure drops down in front of them. “Alya!” Ladybug says, glancing confusedly at Nino. “Did you see where Carapace went?”

“Nope,” Alya says. She leans in toward Ladybug, carefully eyeing the other people who are watching the exchange. “Definitely an Akuma, then?” she whispers, quietly enough that nobody else is alarmed.

“Maybe?” Ladybug whispers back. “Or a Sentimonster, or. Well. One other thing.”

Alya’s eyebrows narrow. “What other thing?”

Ladybug shakes her head. “Probably not important,” she says. She straightens and backs away, whipping her yo-yo in rapid circles. “Everyone stay calm and quietly evacuate the area,” she says in a clear, authoritative voice. “Calmly, please! Everything is under control.”

There’s a growing undercurrent of panic in the crowd at Ladybug’s words, but there’s a force behind her last sentence, a reassurance, that passes calm through the crowd like a ripple. Much to Alya’s surprise, there’s no stampede, no rush to flee. Everyone actually listens, beginning to carefully file away, emptying out the street.

“Any chance we could get our Miraculi?” Nino asks. “I don’t like this.”

Ladybug glances over her shoulder at him. “Not until Chat gets here,” she says. “I can’t just leave the Akuma without anyone containing it.”

A black blur drops out of the sky, rolling and springing to his feet next to Ladybug. “Good thing I’m here, then!” Chat says, leaning his elbow onto her shoulder.

Ladybug rolls her eyes. “Always so dramatic,” she says, turning to her partner. “Can you hold down the fort for a few while I grab backup?”

Chat eyes Alya and Nino. “So long as the Ladyblogger doesn’t get herself killed, yes.”

There’s still been no sighting of the fake Carapace by the time Ladybug returns carrying the bracelet and the necklace. Chat has been running across the rooftops, spying into alleyways, but hasn’t seen scale nor shell of him.

“Alya Césaire and Nino Lahiffe,” Ladybug intones, holding the two Miraculi aloft. “I’m trusting you with the Miraculous of the Fox and Turtle.” She purses her lip. “I’m going to ask you to switch, though. I don’t want us mixing up our Carapi.”

Alya grimaces, but Nino just nods. “Makes sense,” he says, taking the necklace and draping it around his neck. It sparks, and a tiny fox spirals out from it. “Trixx, Let’s Pounce!” Nino calls.

He flashes orange, sparks running across his whole body, and suddenly Nino is gone, replaced by an orange-clad superhero. He still has Carapace’s hood, peaked down over his forehead, with ears poking through holes in the top. Leggings are tucked into combat boots, black gloves cuffed over white-and-orange sleeves. He looks down at his arms, twisting his hands to look at both sides. “Hmm,” he says. “Pretty cool.”

“What should we call you?” Ladybug says.

Nino meets Alya’s eyes. “What about… Reynard?” he says.

“Reynard it is,” Ladybug says. She turns to Alya, handing her the jade bracelet. “You ready?”

“Always,” Alya says, sliding the bracelet onto her wrist. “Wayzz, Shell On!”

She feels her hair lift into a high ponytail as her glasses meld to her face into a domino mask. Unlike the Rena Rouge transformation, which slims her down, she feels herself bulking up. Armor plates slam into place around her chest, shoulders, and thighs. Everything feels heavier, but also stronger, more stable.

Reynard whistles. “Damn, babe,” he says. “Green looks good on you.”

Tortue Verte grins. “You expected anything else?” she ask. She absently lifts the shield. “Damn, this thing is heavy,” she says, looking at Reynard. “How do you even lift it?”

“Practice,” Reynard says, twirling the flute. “This is really light!”

“It’s basically bamboo,” Tortue replies, slinging the shield onto her back. “You ready?”

Reynard sheathes the flute on his own back. “Let’s take this guy down.”

Tortue Verte’s super jump is a lot like Rena Rouge’s—though, given the balance between her being slightly stronger with the Turtle and also being heavier, it’s a little weird to balance. She gets more distance but less height with each jump, and since her brain keeps expecting Rena’s jump arc, she keeps misjudging where she’s landing.

She lands hard on the side of her foot, twisting her ankle and stumbling shoulder-first into a chimney with a yelp. Her ankle is struck by stabbing pain, and she immediately collapses onto her side. She lies there on the roof, huffing, feeling desperate and foolish. This is not what she was hoping for.

She carefully drags herself up the chimney into a sitting position, carefully pulling the shield from her back and dialing Reynard.

“Hey babe,” he says, his orange-hooded face filling the screen. “You good?”

She shakes her head. “Landed bad,” she says. “I think I twisted my ankle.”

Reynard’s eyes widen behind his goggles. “Where are you?” he says. “I’ll be there in a—”

“Babe!” she interrupts. “Akuma. I’ll be fine up here.”

“Are you sure?”

She nods. “I’m sure,” she says. “Give that fake hell.” She hangs up, then collapses backward against the chimney with a gasp.

“Sorry I didn’t catch you,” a voice—a familiar one, but one she can’t quite place—says from behind her. “I think you’d have broken a few of my bones.”

She whips her head around to see a red-haired woman dressed in blue and white, bunny ears sprouting from her head, leaning on an umbrella as if it were a cane. Tortue tries to leap to her feet, shield up, but pain spikes through her ankle the second her foot meets shingle. “Augh!”

The woman immediately drops the umbrella, and her arms are around Tortue’s body. “Careful,” she says. “Don’t want to put too much weight on that.”

“Don’t touch me,” Tortue growls.

The woman laughs. “Relax, Foxy. I’m not an Akuma.”

Tortue blinks. Foxy? She’s wearing the Turtle, not the Fox, which means… “You—you know who I am.”

The woman smirks and throws up a peace sign. “The name’s Bunnyx,” she says. “Wielder of the Miraculous of Time, from ten years in the future.”

“Prove it,” Tortue says. “What’s Ladybug’s real name?”

Bunnyx snorts. “You’re not getting it that easily… Alya,” she says. “Also, Nino’s sort of downplaying how worried about you he is. You really should start being more careful before you give him a heart attack.”

Tortue stares at Bunnyx, then blinks. “...Okay, you’re for real,” she says. “What are you doing here? Are you warning us about something?”

Bunnyx shakes her head. “I brought Carapace and Rena back from my time for one reason,” she says. “Future Hawkmoth has discovered Ladybug’s identity, which has put her daughter in danger.”

“Daughter?” Tortue says.

Bunnyx continues as if she hasn’t heard. “Ladybug asked me to bring her back in time to protect her from Future Hawkmoth, but I needed backup just in case she followed us. You and your boyfriend were the obvious choice.”

“Where is she?” Tortue says, trying to work her way to her feet. She hisses as pain lances through her ankle again.

“Jeez, stay down, Tortue!” Bunnyx says, carefully easing her back into a sitting position. “You need to be careful. We need you for this one.”

“Don’t bother,” says a voice that sounds like Tortue’s own as an older, taller Rena Rouge lands in a crouch. “I had absolutely no self-preservation at that age.”

Carapace lands next to her, softer, gentler. “You nearly killed me like eight times,” he says, cradling a baby in his arms. He looks down at Tortue. “Hey, babe.”

Rena rolls her eyes, gently punching Carapace’s shoulder. “Don’t flirt with young me, you butt,” she says.

Tortue stares at the baby, wide-eyed. “Is that…” she murmurs.

Rena nods. “Our god-daughter,” she says.

Carapace smiles. “Do you want to hold her?”

“She’s… mine?” Ladybug says, gazing down into her daughter’s emerald-green eyes.

The baby laughs, reaching up toward her mother’s face and pressing her chubby palm into Ladybug’s cheek.

“Who’s the father?” Chat says to Bunnyx, hope shining in his eyes. (Tortue admits to herself that she’s just as interested in finding out.)

Bunnyx smirks. “Oh, Kitty Noir, you know I can’t tell you.”

Chat looks crestfallen. “Not even a hint?”

“She’s so small,” Ladybug whispers, pointing a finger at her daughter’s face. The baby laughs again, gripping her mother’s finger in between her hands.

“You said she’s my—our god-daughter?” Tortue says.

Rena laughs. “My boyfriend has spent more time pampering this little terror than he has me lately,” she says. She turns and pokes Reynard in the chest. “You’ve got some growing to do, babe.”

Carapace rolls his eyes. “Please don’t flirt with the babies, babe,” he says with a smirk.

The laughter that follows seems to come from everywhere and nowhere, and Tortue looks around, unsettled.

“...Wasn’t that funny,” Carapace mutters.

Bunnyx walks toward the edge of the roof, looking down. “Missing the point again, Shelly?” she says, pointing down. “It’s starting.”

“What is?” Chat says.

“ATTENTION PARIS!” a booming, feminine voice echoes deeply through the sky as if it’s rebounding off the very atmosphere, followed by a sudden eruption of Wagnerian opera. “YOU HAVE BEEN SELECTED TO JOIN THE RANKS OF ODIN’S MIGHTY WARRIORS IN VALHALLA!”

“Ah,” Chat says, nodding. “Akuma time.”

“Bad one,” Bunnyx agrees, nodding. “We picked today for a reason. Two illusionists needed at minimum.”

Tortue gingerly attempts to stand, only for the pain in her ankle to spike like a jagged piece of bone. “Ah!” she yelps, collapsing backward.

Immediately, two sets of hands are holding her up—Reynard’s and Carapace’s. “You okay?” Reynard says, his eyes soft and concerned.

Carapace swallows. “I’m sorry, babe, but I—” He glances at Rena. “We are going to need you to stay out of this fight. You’re injured.”

“I can help!” Tortue protests.

Carapace shakes his head. “I know how much it means to you to be out there with us, but A—um, sweetie, I need you alive, okay?” He smiles, glancing back at Ladybug. “Besides, um. Someone needs to keep the baby safe.”

Reynard raises an eyebrow. “You are a braver man than I,” he says.

Rena laughs. “Oh, it’s just ‘cause she’s a baby,” she says. “He knows I’d rip his throat out if he tried that.”

“You are also much less suicidally reckless than she is,” Carapace shoots back.

Rena shrugs. “Fair point.”

Ladybug approaches, carefully laying the baby into Tortue’s arms with a look of regret. “Stay safe, okay?” she says. She looks down and presses a kiss to her daughter’s forehead. “And keep her safe.”

Tortue swallows, overwhelmed by the—the everything. The trust Ladybug is showing her, the softness of the moment, the sadness in the child’s eyes as her mother goes back off to battle… it’s too much.

“I’ll do my best,” she croaks, trying not to tear up.

Carapace had carried her away from the battle. Vilekyrie controlled the sky, making it difficult to keep the baby out of her reach, but he’d found her a little out-of-the-way cubbyhole that nobody would come looking in during the attack. Or, well. Not a cubbyhole, really. More of a luxury suite at the Hotel Gran Paris.

“How did you know nobody would be here?” Tortue had asked him.

He’d only smiled in reply. “Spoilers,” he’d said. “Love you forever, but I gotta get back there.”

“Good luck!”

Now, about forty minutes into the battle, she can hear the clash of swords, the clanking of armor, the screaming of horses as they flew past her shaded window. She’d looked outside earlier, caught a glimpse of the copies of Vilekyrie flashing across the sky—copies of her that kept growing by the moment—and the marching of ghostly Viking soldiers on the ground: the Einherjar she’d selected from Paris’ citizens, transformed into undying warrior spirits. It doesn’t seem to be going well, but then, she doesn’t really have the best vantage point.

The baby is fussy, fussier than she was when Ladybug was around—Tortue can only guess that it’s because she wants her mother. The room has been stocked with formula and fresh diapers, and, thanks to her experience with the twins, Tortue has plenty of experience with taking care of a baby, but the girl just won’t settle down.

There’s a quiet footfall on the balcony—not a Vilekyrie, and the Einherjar can’t seem to climb. Tortue turns around to see the balcony door creek open, followed by a pair of large orange ears. “Hey. Mini-me,” Rena says. “You hanging in there?”

Tortue smiles, rocking the baby gently in her arms. “You didn’t tell me her name,” she says. “Feel weird just calling her ‘baby’.”

Rena ducks around the door, shutting it behind her, then bends down, cooing over the child’s delighted face. “HellooOOOooo!” She tickles the baby’s nose with her finger, and the girl laughs.

Rena looks back up at Tortue with a sheepish smile. “Sorry,” she says. “No names. Spoilers.”

Tortue rolls her eyes. “Am I always this aggravating?”

Rena gently wraps her arms underneath the baby’s back, lifting her from Tortue’s arms. “Pretty much!” She turns back to the baby and blows a raspberry.

“What’s up?” Tortue says. “Why aren’t you with the others?” As if to punctuate her point, an explosion sounds in the distance, and Tortue raises an eyebrow.

“Needed to talk to you,” Rena says, sitting down on the plush velvet bedspread across from her. “Also, I told them you were planning on running into the combat zone, so…”

“I was not!” Tortue yelps, leaping from her desk chair. The baby immediately squeals in distress.

Rena grins. “I know,” she says, gently tickling the child’s nose. “But they believed me when I said it, and by the time they figure it out…”

Tortue sighs. Gods, her older self is annoying. “What do you want, Alya?”

The animation in Rena’s face slackens, and she looks down at her own stomach. “I… want to show you something.” Keeping one hand under the baby, she reaches behind her and unslings the flute, opening the space within. “Take a look.”

Tortue reaches inside the extradimensional storage space inside Rena’s weapon, confused—and then her fingers close around something small, round, and metal, and she understands. “You’re going to propose,” she says, fishing the ring out of the flute. She stares at it, entranced.

“Yep,” Rena agrees with a nod, gently bouncing the baby. “Bought the ring last week.”

Tortue doesn’t even know what to say in this situation. Is it… weird to congratulate herself? Some situations, there aren’t just good responses for.

Rena sees her face and laughs. “Don’t look so shocked, Mini-me,” she says. She carefully rocks Ladybug’s baby, staring into her green eyes. “I mean, you always knew we were gonna do this eventually.”

“Yeah, but… kinda young?” Tortue says, handing the ring back to Rena.

“Ladybug’s younger.” Rena absently places the ring back inside her flute, still bouncing the baby in her other arm. “About a year younger than you, actually.”

Tortue blinks. She’s—well, she figured out a while back that Ladybug wasn’t actually 5,000 years old, but she’d always assumed she was, maybe, Anansi’s age? The thought that Ladybug is younger than she is... “Yikes.”

“Yikes is right,” Rena says. “And she has anxiety. So every time you go running face-first into danger like you’re never gonna die…”

“Is this a lecture?” Tortue says.

“Little bit,” Rena responds.

Oh, great. The last thing she needs right now is a lecture from herself of all people.

Rena rolls her eyes. “Listen, Kit, sometimes—sometimes Ladybug isn’t gonna be there. She doesn’t always show up, you know.”

Tortue narrows her eyebrows. “Yes she does?” That’s, like, the big consistency. Aside from that one time where the Akuma and the Sentimonster were in different cities, Ladybug has shown up for every single Akuma battle.

Rena shakes her head. “She has a life, Alya. And, well, sometimes she needs Chat to cover for her.” She looks toward the curtained window, toward the sounds of the battle still filtering in from outside. “And sometimes, Chat and Viperion get taken out early, and the only person who can use the Ladybug is you.”

A chill runs down Tortue’s entire body. The responsibility of using the Ladybug Miraculous—it’s terrifying. It hadn’t even occurred to her that it might pass down to her, that—oh, no. This is… this is what Ladybug feels all the time, isn’t it?

“Listen, however you feel about Nino now?” Rena says. “It’s nothing compared to what it’s going to be. He and I, we’d do anything for each other.” She breathes in, stroking the baby’s head. “Which means that, well, you and I need to stay alive.”

“The Miraculous Cure—”

Rena shakes her head. “It’s good, but it’s not… 100% reliable. Sometimes, Ladybug can’t be there.”

Tortue’s mouth opens, closes. Opens again. “Oh.”

Rena stands and places a hand on her younger self’s shoulder. “Alya, someday, you’re gonna get hurt. You’re gonna get hurt in a way that Ladybug can’t fix, and you’re going to wonder if you even deserve this Miraculous. If you even deserve Nino.” She looks down at the baby with naked fondness in her eyes. “I’m telling you now—you deserve way more than you realize. But if you want to make it to see our wedding...” She trails off.

Tortue waits for her to finish, but Rena doesn’t say anything else. The implications in Rena’s words are disconcerting, and Tortue asks the question that’s burning inside her chest. “Am I going to die?”

“Of course you are,” Rena replies. “You’re going to die a lot. But some of them are going to be harder to come back from, and Alya.” Rena’s eyes bore into hers. “You need to come back. Okay?”

“Okay,” Tortue whispers.

“Miraculous LADYBUG!” Ladybug calls from outside, and pink insects swarm across the room. There’s a brief moment of pain as Tortue’s ankle snaps back into place, immediately replaced by cool relief as the pressure vanishes.

Rena puts a finger to her lips. “Don’t tell Reynard, okay?” she says. “About the ring.”

Tortue mimes zipping her lip.

Rena nods. “Thanks,” she says. “Oh, and one more thing—you’re also gonna need to be more careful if you want to get into a good journalism school. Nobody wants to be the professor that killed the Ladyblogger.”

Tortue blinks. She… hadn’t even thought of that. “That makes sense, I think?” she says.

The balcony door creaks open and Carapace peeks through. “Hey, guys,” he says. “How’s everything going in here?”

“Really great!” Tortue says. She eyes her older self. Rena is fidgeting, looking away from her boyfriend’s face, and Tortue realizes—if she doesn’t make the push, Rena isn’t going to do it. “I think Rena has something to tell you.”

Rena glares at Tortue. “Betrayal!” she hisses.

Tortue laughs. “You’ll thank me later.”

Carapace glanced between them, confusion written across his face. “Um, what’s going on?”

Rena takes a deep breath, then carefully hands the baby to Tortue. “Hold her for a moment?”

“Of course.”

Rena looks at her boyfriend, then drops to one knee, fishing the ring out of her flute. “Nino Lahiffe. Will—will you, um…”

Carapace gasps and covers his mouth with both hands, his eyes shining wetly. “Alya?” he whispers.

Both of them sit in shocked silence, staring at each other, frozen, and after a moment, Tortue gets fed up. “Babe,” she says. “Say yes.”

Carapace glances at her, then back and his girlfriend... then lifts his fiancée bodily into the air in a crushing, spinning hug.

“Yes, yes, yes!” he crows in delight.

The portal closes, leaving just the four of them behind.

Ladybug huffs in relief. “You know, I love Bunnyx, but… every time I see her, it’s a brand new disaster.”

Chat looks at her in confusion. “Every? Isn’t this only the second time?”

Reynard sidles up to Tortue Verte. “So, how was meeting your future self?” he says, as Ladybug and Chat quietly discuss something else off to the side. “Mine was a lot more confident than I expected.”

Tortue snorts. “Kind of a butt,” she says. “But then again, that’s not much of a surprise, is it.”

Reynard coughs. “I invoke my right to not incriminate myself,” he says.

Tortue smacks his shoulder. “You’re such a dork.”

Reynard smiles. “Your dork.” He looks at where the portal vanished. “For quite a while, apparently.” He turns back to Tortue. “She tell you anything interesting?”

Tortue smiles, thinking about the proposal, about how happy she and her Nino were. About all the advice her future self gave. She has a lot of work to do.

“Sorry, babe,” she says. “Spoilers.”

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous #djwifi #original content #my fic #Alya cesaire #Nino lahiffe #ninalya #Rena rouge #carapace #turtle!alya #fox!nino #bunnyx #bunnix #mlsecretsanta 2020 #mlsecretsanta2k20 #emma agreste

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imaginesmai · 4 years

Text

Tom Holland - Our fairytale

Is this another disney-Tom fic? Yes it it. I’m masking my inactivity with another piece of fluff in Disney World. If you like this one, make sure to check Lost kid and True love kiss.

Plot: that story where two characters of a movie fall in love, or in this case two actors portraying those characters fall in love, even if they don’t belong to the same fairy tale

Tom is prince Eric and you’re Belle, and he’s just a jealous bean.

“Mommy, mommy! It’s prince Eric!”

A little red haired girl, that was probably wearing a wig not that well put, pulled her mother’s hand behind her and gripped harder the drawings’ book she has been carrying around all day. Her objective had been clear since she had woken up that morning; to meet all the characters that appeared in her drawings and make them sign the pictures. She had too a purple princess dress with small seashells and a small purse that was all decoration.

Tom kneeled down just as the girl reached him. Her eyes looked as if they could burst out of their pockets, jumping up and down in the spot of excitement. The mother, a middle age woman that looked done with the whole park, gave Tom a side glance to check he was no depredator and took her phone with her free hand.

“Hi!” she screeched, loud even above all the noise of the park that day. “I’m Marleen!”

“Oh, what a beautiful name!” Tom said in a high-pitched voice. “And what a beautiful girl!”

“Thanks” she giggled and twisted her body around the mother’s hand. “This is not my real hair, my mommy bought it for me”

“Well, it’s really pretty” Tom smiled warmly. “Are you enjoying your day in the park?”

The question led to a monologue from the little girl about all the characters she had met so far, and a thoughtful look through her drawings. Her smile was easily contagious, and Tom didn’t mind staying 20 long minutes under the sun, crutched in front of that cute girl. He commented every drawing and even made up some stories about the characters in them. The mother kept herself to the phone, not listening to the conversation, and Tom felt himself traveling to a different world.

Every time a kid asked for him, he left the rest of his life aside and became Eric, the prince of the little mermaid that had a charming smile and lived with Ariel in a big palace. Tom had been working as that character for almost five months, and he never got tired. There were too many good things that came with it; the smiles, the excitement and the fantasy he got to live meanwhile.

He was in the middle of a story about Ursula when Marleen seemed to see something behind him, and before he got time to turn around, she had already recovered and emitted another loud screech.

“Belle!!”

Tom was suddenly pushed aside when Marleen rushed past him and attached herself to another person’s legs. He didn’t have to look up to know it was you who had stolen the attention of the girl, but he wasn’t at all afraid. Once more, the mother looked poorly interested in the situation, and went back to her previous business after checked who was her daughter talking to.

Again, Marleen presented herself and explained who she was dressed as. You looked as interested as Tom in the story, though Tom ignored it in favour of staring at you. You were wearing a beautiful pale yellow dress that fell down your legs, barely touching the ground. There was a flashy necklace on your chest and a pearly ring on your finger. You weren’t the princess that used more make-up, yet Tom thought the soft red lipstick and the barely there Rimmel was perfect.

“Can you sign my drawing too?” Marleen asked, already opening her book. She shoved it in front of you and turned to look at Tom. “My friends are going to be so envious! I’m gonna tell them I met Belle and prince Eric!”

“If you are quick, you can meet Cinderella in the main square” you said as you scribbled on the page. “I heard she has brought some special friends with her”

“Mommy did you hear that?!?”

Tom barely noticed her arms circling around his legs before she took off running again, her mother screaming behind her. He chuckled as the pair disappeared in the sea of the people. It was only mid-day, and if they were thinking about staying until close-up time, he doubted the mother would be able to keep up.

A soft hand made its way to his, sneaking as if it was a secret. And in part, it was; because prince Eric was supposed to be with Ariel, and you had strict orders about sticking to the characters until the end of the day. You rubbed your face against his blue jacket, half wishing you would be alone at the moment.

Finally, Tom intertwined your hands together and gave yours a small squeeze. Your break was close, and if you were lucky you could still find some spot in the shadow to hide from the torturous sun.

“I was watching you way before she noticed me, you know” you mumbled, pressing yourself even closer to him. “You’re so good with them, and you look so cute”

“I’m not cute, I’m carrying a sword and I’m a prince” Tom chuckled, not moving from his spot. “You’re amazing, too. And beautiful – god, I swear they might want to remake the film and change the ending, because I can’t take my eyes off you with that dress”

“Aren’t you a gentleman, my prince. Do you say that to every princess here?”

“Only you. And Cinderella, of course”

You smacked his arm playfully, and in return, you were met with his lips on you. If someone saw you, you would probably have a lot of problems with your boss. He was very, very strict on the no-dating policy, or at least not kissing in the park.

Instead of pushed him away, you put your other hand across his chest and started playing with the black buttons of the vest he was wearing. Both of you were sweaty and spending time of your break, that was already short. Yet Tom didn’t push you away either, just angled his head so that the kiss wasn’t that awkward. He resisted the urge to stretch himself on the tip toes because you were taller than him, wearing just a small heel.

You pulled back when oxygen became short, and Tom just leaned again to peck your lips, swallowing your giggled.

“What’s got you so clingy?” you managed to say between quick kisses. “Someone’s gonna see us”

“And they won’t care, they’ve have seen us before” Tom pressed his lips against you once more.

“No, really” you pushed him a little bit. “Everything good?”

“Yeah, everything good. Just missed you, darling”

“Since this morning?” you raised an eyebrow when you got the idea why Tom was that clingy. “Or since you learned that I have a show today?”

Tom scoffed for an answer and you knew you were right. You both had talked about it – that you had to kiss other people for the job, and even act romantic about them. While in a normal day you didn’t have to do much with your partner, every week a Disney movie would get a show in the main castle of the park, and that week was Beauty and the Beast. Dancing, singing, wearing costumes – and following the original story, that said that Belle and Beast kissed at the end of the show.

He wasn’t really angry, he never was. And neither was you when he had to swoop Ariel off her feet and kiss her while fireworks ran behind them. But you had your days where it was hard, and Tom had a hard time saying he was jealous of a man who wore the Beast costume.

“You can always fight him with that sword of yours” you smiled at the blush on his cheeks. “But it might turn out bad, since it’s made of plastic”

“Shut up” Tom croaked out, confidence gone. “I have every right to be jealous, you’re kissing him almost every day! And – he get to slow dance with you, and kiss you, and –“

“And you’re the one who goes back home with me when the show is over” you interrupted him before he got carried away. “We can slow dance in the living room, and we kiss all the time even if we can get in trouble for it. You don’t have to be jealous”

Tom didn’t say anything else, just looked away. He knew you were right, that he didn’t have any right to be jealous and that he was pushing it by kissing you in the park. But at the same time, his brain was having a hard time walking past the need of hugging you close and flipping it off in the distance to the guy who played the Beast.

“If you want to, after the show we can go out for dinner. Tomorrow is our free day” you wrapped yourself around Tom, noses touching again.

“As long as I get to pick you up from the dressing room”

“As long as you don’t glare too much at Michael and don’t flip him off again” you half joked, thinking about how in your last show Tom had been giving your partner the puppy, angry eyes the whole time.

“Then we’re getting pizza and we’re watching a movie” Tom finished, kissing you once more, quick, time. “And I’m choosing everything”

“You’re lucky I love you”

If Marleen, the little girl that had been talking to Tom, saw Belle and prince Eric kissing and holding hands, she didn’t say anything. She just watched with an excited smile how them both leaned for a kiss once more, truly believing that she was a princess and would find his own prince.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

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hitsuackerman · 4 years

Text

Unpredictable (Overhaul x Reader) pt.28

a/n: aye have mixture of fluff and angst~ sorry for uploading late :c MY SCHEDULE IS SUCH A KILLER I CANNOT STRESS IT ENOUGH huhuhu

warnings: this cannot be read solo

Links: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 18, part 19, part 20, part 21, part 22, part 22, part 23, part 23.5, part 24, part 25, part 26, part 27, part 29

Masterlist to my other fics: here :) (that has not been updated for how many months now... proceed with caution~)

“Is that really you, Inspector (l/n)?” The hero asked. With each step she took, you made sure Chisaki’s face wouldn’t be seen. “It’s late.”

“Hey, Enigma~” Lowering his head to rest on your shoulder, you smiled at the small quiet hero. “It is late~ We’re not causing a disturbance are we?”

“Of course not! But I don’t think this is the place to be…” She scratched her cheek and avoided your eye contact. “You know…”

“I know~ I apologize. He’s typically busy and we don’t get to hang out much.” You patted his back and continued. “He’s also very shy and doesn’t like to be seen in public.”

“Oh! I’m very sorry! But, if you don’t mind, would it be alright if the both of you continued elsewhere?”

“It’s fine! We were just going separate ways.” You consoled her and knew that her reaction was safe enough. At least you were fast enough to cover his face. “I told you, Shinoda-san. Heroes patrol these times of the night.”

“Forgive my rash decision.” He rested his head on your shoulder. Embarrassed that he had been this close to kissing you. Disappointed that it was barely a few centimeters and yet even such trivial things like these, the heroes would always disturb him. For now, all he could do was to wrap his arms around your body.

“Don’t wear your mask.” You whispered to him. He merely hummed. Gliding your hands on to his chest, he looked at you with cautiously eager eyes. Feeling how you pushed him he let you lead the way till the hood of his car hit thighs. “Enigma’s gone. You can turn around now.”

“I apologize for my actions.” Overhaul said as he took out his mask and wore it. “I was not expecting those bastards to roam this area at night.”

“You come here often?”

“Many years back. That apartment building, the third one.” He pointed it out. “Before the Shie Hassaikai was established, Kurono and I used to live there.”

“Wait, wait, wait… You and Chrono were roomies?” You stared at your companion, to the building, and back at him. A small pang of pain hit your forehead just as he had overhauled his glove back. “Well, no need to flick me, Chisaki.”

“Whatever it is your mind was thinking, no. We weren’t roomies.” He pinched your cheek and leaned on to the hood. “Neighbors. Pops owns that building. It’s one of the properties not involved with my business.”

“You know, I’d ask but perhaps we can schedule another meeting for that.” You took the vacant area beside him. With a bit of space in between, you placed your hand beside his. Just a reminder that the invitation still remains open.

“Of course.” Looking at your figure beside him, he furrowed his brows and shook his thoughts away. “Then again, we really should go separate ways. I hate having to take my mask off.”

“You know, you don’t have to take it off when you’re with me.” Elbowing him gently, you chuckled. “Don’t get me wrong, though. I like looking at your face. I just don’t want people to see you. Especially not with how things are going.”

“Nah.” Not expecting that word to come out of his mouth, the both of you met eyes at the same time. Adjusting the cloth, he tried to hide the slowly creeping heat on his cheeks. “You’re rubbing off on me, (y/n). That aside, it isn’t really bothersome if I take it off when you’re around. Your expressions are worth breathing the horrid air.”

“Ugh. Smooth talker.” You pouted. Taking a peak at your watch, the time was now quarter to one. As much as you wanted to stay and get to know more of the man behind the name, he was right. Flinching at the sudden weight on your hand, you looked down and found his on top of yours.

The kiss may not have happened but if it were compensated with this small act of intimacy then perhaps it wasn’t that bad. Carefully interlacing your fingers, you were more than relieved when he moved along and held on to your hand tightly. Maybe it was fine if you were to lean on to his arm and rest your head on his shoulder?

Just as you were about to attempt, Chisaki pulled you closer to him.

“You’re too obvious…” He said as he rested his head on yours. “We already have to leave in a few minutes. If you won’t do it then I will.”

“I swear this feels like a fever dream…” You commented earning a ruffle to the hair with his free hand. “Alright, alright. It’s real. You better not bug me Chisaki or I swear I will block you.”

“Well, now that this has happened, shall we take our leave now?”

“Is it bad to say that I’d rather stay here?”

“Are you suggesting we sleep in the car?” He poked your cheek.

“And have you drowned in your car’s germs? I’d rather not.” Standing up straight, you took a few steps and only then realized he still had not let go of your hand. “If you don’t let go, I’ll have to rethink sleeping in the car. And frankly speaking, sleeping in cars is not the most comfortable experience.”

“Right again.” Letting go of your hand, he too stood up. “In that case, I shall send a message when I get back to the base.”

“And I’ll message you when I arrive home.”

“Fair trade.”

To which you did not. Right after both your cars went separate ways, your phone vibrated with a message from Tsukuachi. Parking at the nearest allowable area, you grabbed your device and read the message. Rereading the text, you clicked dial.

“Are you for real?”

“I wasn’t expecting you to read it now.” He stifled a yawn and continued. “Unfortunately yes. If you can drop by the precinct, I can hand them over to you so you can get a head start.”

“Nao, it’s 1am.”

“And yet here we are, talking on the phone like the rats we are.”

Letting out a sigh, you ended the call. Rubbing your face, you leaned your head on the steering wheel and stared at your hand. Chewing on your lip, you began to recall the moment that had happened a mere minutes ago. Being able to hold his hand out in public had a different tingle.

Not long after, you were now seated beside Tsukauchi. Accepting the small cup of coffee, you waited as he filed through some documents. Taking small peaks at some of the letters, you saw how some names of villains you knew of were written down and crossed out. When Tsukauchi stopped at a particular piece of paper, he handed it over.

“Damn. It really is happening.” You set the paper aside and took a sip of your now cold beverage. “Do you need any help for the preparations? I can pull an all nighter if needed.”

“Would it be alright? It’s bad enough the schedule keeps changing.” Glancing at the paper and to the calendar, Tsukauchi stared at your tired eyes. “With this, the Fukuo Kai case will commence a week from now. Are you ready to focus on Nighteye’s?”

“From the middle, I have been focusing on their case. I just didn’t expect it to happen too soon.” Playing with the hems of your sweater, you rested your elbows on your knees and covered your face. “Wanna go to the rooftop?”

“Not thinking of bailing now, are you?” Tsukauchi said as he began to clear his desk and stand up. “What’s on your mind, hmm?”

“I just met with 2 people I shouldn’t have any business with.” You weakly chuckle as you lead the way to the rooftop. Opening the doors, you felt your breathing grow heavy. The sudden claminess of the narrow pathway was not good for your running mind. Holding onto Tsukauchi’s sleeve, you were more than thankful he was willing to listen.

Taking the final step, Tsukauchi unlocked the hatch and granted access to the rooftop. The night sky was still dark and barely held any stars. Light pollution framed the horizon while the street lamps casted a yellow-orange glow to the roads below.

“What happened?”

“Levi specifically told the heroes not to mess with my work.” You began. “It went well but not for long. I had to bug the Shie Hassaikai after a few days Levi left. Only an idiot would refuse knowing my stance with the two parties.”

“Was it successful?”

“It was. The anon tip we had from before was Chronostasis. He gave me Overhaul’s sim card and I kinda just took the opportunity to let him plant the chip for me. It was going smoothly till a few hours ago. Nighteye told me that they were still getting feedback even though Chrono destroyed the device.”

“Where did things go wrong? It just seems like a loyalty test to me.”

“I don’t even know if I passed at this point.” Taking your phone out, you opened the gallery and showed him the picture of the hidden camera. “They bugged me. I’m not certain if they saw what went on inside my unit but the fact that they saw him entering and exiting as he pleases makes my blood boil.”

“Then it means they saw his face?” His eyes widened.

“As far as I know, he only took his mask off around the living room area, his room, or mine.” Trying to recall, each time he entered the kitchen he used the other door connecting to the living room. Thank the quirk gods your apartment was designed that way. “I don’t even know if it transmits audio.”

Squatting on the floor you rubbed your face once more and raked your fingers through your hair. Pulling on the clumps a bit, you released a small shaky sigh.

“I’m guessing the second person you met was the reason for all this?” Tsukauchi took the initiative and sat on the empty space beside you. “What happened with him?”

“He knew about Chrono helping me and about the other bug running around. Told me that heroes needed to have fun too. Bastard.” No matter how much you twisted your views, Chisaki Kai was always Overhaul first. “I… I just don’t know what to do anymore, Nao.”

Closing your eyes, a small whimper left your mouth as tears began to fall.

“Things are just so fucking complicated that I… I don’t even know what step I should do next. I want justice to prevail but no matter what I do…”

“You’ve really fallen down the rabbithole, huh?” Tsukauchi commented as he gave soft pats on your back. “Then again, who wouldn’t? You’re literally stuck in the middle and have to be on edge more than usual. Other than that, you held up pretty well.”

“I can’t even clear my name at this point. If things ever go wrong in the Shie Hassaikai raid, my name will definitely make it into the possible accomplice list.” You bit your lip and clenched your fists. “Gods I hate this so fucking much. I told him I had it under control when in reality I’m as stuck as a rat on a glue board.”

“Don’t go using that analogy.” Tsukauchi still continued to pat your back. “Think of us as hamsters. We’re pretty cute and intelligent. Just give it a bit of time and I’m sure you’ll think of something. I bet you wouldn’t want your dad to partake in any of your problems so best not to pop up in your estate.”

“I know it’s a law for heroes not to kill but what if…”

“I doubt he’ll die in battle. Overhaul is a B-Rank villain. The most that’ll happen would be for him to be knocked out unconscious or bloody at the end of the day.” Yet even as he said those words, Tsukauchi wasn’t too confident. It would be a lie on his part if he said things would be fine. “Who knows? He might have some sort of magical epiphany and surrender to lessen his charges.”

“Now that you mention it,” You wiped your tears away and sat down properly. “I’ve never really read what happens to higher rank villains after they get captured. The highest I’ve handled was just D-ranked ones.”

“Hmmm…” Now that the topic was open, he too hadn’t really thought too much about it knowing his and your department weren’t incharge of what happens after the dirty work. “Standard procedures. They’ll search the area once more and take proper inventory. Say that Overhaul is merely strained, they would pat him down and once he’s clear and in the precinct or designated area, he’ll have to sign a document signifying that the given list is all that he owns. He’ll be then taken to a private area to have his fingerprints, mug shot, and other necessary information.”

“He probably won’t get a hearing.”

“Right you are. He’ll most likely be sent to Tartarus if that’s what you’re asking.”

“If he does, who do you think would handle it? The HPSC?”

“Most likely. Still, they have a lot on their hands so his case would surely collect dust.” He paused and let out a yawn. “If it were you, would you grant him a second chance in life?”

“Heh, If it were up to me...” Looking at the now starless skies, you felt a chill run down your spine. “Personal emotions aside, of course not.”

“But?”

“You really think I’d break into Tartarus just to save one villain and give him a better life?” You smirked and stood up.

“Of course not.” He chuckled and stood up as well. “Even the dumbest person knows that’s suicide. Go home and get some rest, (y/n). We’ll handle this later in the day.”

Giving you some privacy, Tsukauchi excused himself first. Hearing the door latch click, you took your phone out and dialed a number. It only took 3 rings before the other line picked up.

“Well now,” The cheeky voice said. “What can I help you with dove?”

- - - - -

Overhaul’s waiting list: @jjk-biased @infinite-universe-love @dirtypride @blackymomo03 @azzie @purple-rabanito @meximorrita @awesomeee19 @celestial-kanzakii @laure-lo @team-wang-puppy @aydience-world @choros-main-hoe @colorseeingchick @franko-pop @o-dragon05 @but-kairis-not-that-smart (i cant seem to tag again :( hope this lands in your timelines!)

I hope yall liked this chapter annnd if you want to be tagged feel free to comment :’) your comments make my day and make me happy huhu <3

#overhaul x reader #chisaki kai x reader #overhaul #bnha overhaul #mha overhaul #bnha chisaki kai #mha chisaki kai #shie hassaikai #bnha x reader #long fic #i hate my schedule so much

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elareine · 4 years

Note

the song better place by rachel platten and jay/dick or maybe just some jay-centric bat fam. hope this prompt works for you. love your fics <3

Thank you <3 That’s a very JayDick song, but I love writing batfam, too, so... have both.

Steph took one look at Jason’s old-new room and pronounced: “You need to redecorate.”

“No shit.”

“Let’s go.”

Which was how Jason found himself in Ikea of all places. She even dragged a flustered-looking Tim with her, who proved to be supremely unhelpful when it came to curtain color (“I don’t think either red or purple will look good with those walls,” bullshit) but very willing to hand over his credit card. It was… fun. The room felt less like a tomb when Steph was done with it, which was great.

He told her that.

“Well, duh.” She grinned. “No one in this house knows how to decorate for shit. You should see what Tim did with his bedroom…”

Jason spent a minute considering his options. “Anime girls?”

“Nope.”

“Superman posters.”

“Nope, but I like the way you’re thinking.”

“Bad Picasso replicas.”

“Nooo,”

“I give up.”

“He did…” Steph paused dramatically. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing. It still looks like it did in the eighties.”

Jason laughed, and she looked gratified. “Sounds terrible.”

They kept working on the bookshelf. Ikea was great for those; that’s why they went there in the first place. Well, that and the look on Bruce’s face when he saw the boxes.

After a minute, Jason asked: “So… are you seeing a lot of Tim’s bedroom, then?”

“Yeah. So what?” She glared at him, which he was starting to realize was a sure sign that she was embarrassed.

“So nothing. Didn’t know that was happening again, that’s all.”

It took her a minute, but she softened. “Yeah. I… guess we’re giving it a second chance.”

“That’s cool,” he told her sincerely. “I mean, you could clearly do better, but he damn well knows what he’s got now.”

“Hmm.” Steph was hiding behind the shelf she was holding up, but he could still tell she was pleased. “So how about your own second chance, huh?”

…damn, he’d walked right into that one. “Shut up.”

—

“Home invasion in sector 6R. Three 1Cs, suspected armed. Neighbors reporting shots, five people in the house. Hood, you’re closest.”

Jason had already changed course. “I’m on it.”

He waited—this was the point where Batman would send a Robin or two after him, maybe even Nightwing or himself, “just as back-up.” There was no way they would let him operate as part of the team without close supervision for at least a year. Jason was determined to grit his teeth and bear it, even if he wasn’t sure for how long he could. He was chafing already, running like this with the others when he’d been on his own for so long.

However, Bruce only confirmed that he’d heard him, and then the line went silent.

Huh.

—

There was no better time to be awake in the manor than the early morning in Jason’s opinion. The light fell softly into the kitchen as he entered, barefoot and in his pajamas.

Alfred was there, of course. “Good morning, Jason.”

It was their private ritual; had been even before Jason had moved back into the fold. Six a.m., tea and sandwiches. The only difference was that now, Jason hadn’t vanished by the time Damian stomped into the kitchen, glowering at them for being awake and having the audacity to send him to school.

It was kinda adorable, not that Jason would ever tell him that. Instead, he watched Damian make his way through his own breakfast and nodded toward the packed lunch waiting for him. “I see you’re not taking advantage of the school cafeteria, then?”

“Them?” The amount of scorn Damian managed to pack into a single word would have weighed down a ship or two. “They would not know good food if it chased after them with a sword.”

“Let me guess—still only three spices, and these are salt, pepper, and ketchup?” Jason asked.

“I believe there is a fourth one now—they have a particularly intolerable mixture that they like to label ‘Chinese.’” Damian’s whole face scrunched up with distaste. “It tastes nothing like what Mother used to cook.”

“While I am sorry to hear that,” Alfred inserted, “we will be late if we don’t leave soon.”

Damian grumbled but hopped off his chair. Jason glanced at the clock — seven a.m. Dick would get up soon. Might as well make him a sandwich, too.

He pulled the ingredients closer, already compiling a list of recipes in his head. Talia had shown him how to make most of Damian’s favorites. He could teach those to Alfred, no problem.

—

“Hood. Stop it right now.” Dick looked at him with big eyes, or so Jason assumed, considering they were both wearing their masks.

“No, continue.” Barbara sounded choked, audibly forcing down laugher.

And, hey. Love was one thing, but Jason knew who gave him the best intel night after night. “So big bird and B decide that they have to infiltrate this organization, right? Only… they’re all swingers…”

Her laughter was brighter than the streetlights.

—

Jason stepped into the corridor and silently closed the door behind him.

God, but it had taken a long time to get Dick tired and ready to sleep. Jason himself was still feeling too wired to pass out, but then he wasn’t operating on a 40-hour sleep deficit, so it was totally not the same thing.

He decided to wander down to the cave. Bruce was still up, of course, acknowledging Jason’s presence with a grunt. The only other person present was Tim, who was bent over some files.

…like, really bent over them. One could almost think…yup, he’d fallen asleep at the table.

Jason gently poked him. Then he harshly poked him. When nothing happened, he sighed and moved one arm under Tim’s legs, the other gripping his shoulders. The kid would fuck up his back if he stayed like that. It took a bit of effort, but they were soon making their way up the stairs, Tim cradled securely in Jason’s arms.

They’d almost made it upstairs when Tim stirred, blue eyes opening halfway and looking at him.

Heart in his throat, Jason waited. This family had a bad habit of coming awake swinging, and with Jason hovering over them… well, it wouldn’t be entirely unjustified, wouldn’t it? Especially in Tim’s case.

Tim grumbled and went right back to sleep.

—

Jason pinched his nose. Or tried to, but he was wearing his helmet, so he basically poked himself in the face. Judging from Duke’s expression, that wasn’t helping his point.

“So you decided to buy us time by…”

“Ninja traps,” Cassie finished for him. Looking as if that made total sense.

“Ninja traps.”

“Well, it was more of an obstacle course, really,” Duke added helpfully.

“Okay, that’s a weird-ass move, but I can respect that. Then why did that warehouse explode?”

“Fire.” Cassie’s expression gave nothing away.

Jason looked to Duke. “What she said.”

“And the fire was there because…?”

“Fire is an obstacle.”

Jason groaned. “I cannot believe I’m the responsible person here,” he lamented. “Is this how you feel most of the time, D?”

There was laughter over the com. “Oh, Nightwing has finally acquired a co-parent,” Steph commented, followed by Tim’s: “About time.”

(Everyone ignored Bruce’s “Hey!”.)

—

“Jason.”

Bruce was hovering. He probably didn’t intend to it; it just came naturally. Jason still felt that nervous lurch in his stomach whenever Bruce did that, but he was trying to get over it, so he just asked: “Yeah?”

“Let me show you something.”

They went into one of the rooms behind Bruce’s office that Jason had always assumed held nothing but files. He was very wrong.

“After you… left, I found myself reading books and thinking—he would’ve loved that.”

The walls were lined with bookcases. There were special editions of Jane Austen reprints, thick sci-fi novels, and nineteenth-century murder mysteries. It was eclectic and weird and precisely what Jason liked. What they both liked.

“I kept collecting them,” Bruce told him, voice too even. “Just… in case, I suppose.”

Jason stared at the shelves and shelves full of books, all read exactly once. His eyes were stinging because the glass display downstairs—that was bullshit. That uniform was about and for Bruce, and the new Robins, not Jason.

But this?

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Bruce almost-smiled, relief written across his face. “You’re welcome. Uh. I’ll leave you to it.”

Jason let him take two steps, then he said: “Bruce. If there was ever a time for a hug, this is it.”

“Oh. Right.”

Jason let Bruce pull him into an embrace—hugged back just as fiercely and told him: “It’s okay. You can stop grieving now. I’m here.”

If Bruce’s shoulders were shaking, neither of them mentioned it.

—

It was a total accident. Jason had felt like holding Dick’s hand, so he did. It was only when he looked up and caught Tim’s eye that he remembered—right. They were surrounded by Dick’s family. Their family.

Tim winked. The conversation didn’t stop. No one else commented or even gave them a second glance.

Something in Jason exhaled.

Dick squeezed his hand, smiling at something Damian was saying, and ugh, sometimes Jason was so full of feelings, he didn’t know what to do with it. Dick was just so—so—

Yeah. Jason was so fucking gone for him. All he could think about was how it would feel if there was a ring, there, pressing against his own.

He leaned back, adding a sarcastic comment or two to the conversation just to bask in the sunshine of Dick’s laughter. That thought warranted some serious consideration, not to mention talking to Dick, but—just the idea that he could have that? That he trusted himself, and Dick, and their family, enough to have that?

It was more than enough.

—

(Three days before Jason moved into the manor, Dick called a family gathering.

“Why is Jason not here, then?” Tim asked, frowning. “If it’s a family matter, it concerns him, too.”

Dick could kiss him for that. Instead he said: “Because it’s about him. I’m gonna lay down some ground rules, okay?”

Jason letting Dick convince him to move back in with them… that was huge. And dangerous. Dick had figured out long ago that Jay and Bruce had no idea how to handle each other anymore. Neither did the rest. That didn’t mean they didn’t want to. Dick was hopeful.

It was just… Jay was the best thing in Dick’s world; his support, his light, his conscience. He just made everything better. And Dick had no intentions of letting their family or anyone else fuck that up.)

(I’m taking prompts.)

#elareine writes #batfamily #jaydick #jason todd #this was meant to be shorter and is totally unedited because it's 1am and i wanna bedone with it #sorry

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mrs-hatake · 4 years

Text

train station shenanigans (1)

A/N: Helloooooo everyone!

As promised, here’s the first chapter/intro of the aizawa x reader fic based on my work life! This is 90% Self Indulgent so just a heads up!

Anyways, enjoy! :D

Ps, not proof read!

Se no!

Demo sonnan ja dame mou sonnan ja hora.

You groaned in protest at the sound of your alarm that blared under your pillow. With your eyes still closed, you slid your hand under your pillow and fished out your phone to quickly tap the stop function. The white numbers of the clock read half past seven in the morning. You let out a whine and cursed the day you applied for a job.

Once you had convinced yourself to stay awake and ignore the sweet calls of slumber, you unlocked your phone and checked your notifications. After spending about fifteen minutes on twitter, you chucked your phone behind on your bed and pushed yourself upwards. You yawned loudly as you stretched your limbs. Lazily, you exited your bedroom and slowly went down the stairs so as to not awaken your mother and baby brother.

Today was your first day back to work after the mandatory lockdown due to the spread of the new virus. Having a break from work was wonderful as you were able to spend more time with your family. It sucked that everything was closed and you weren’t going to lie, it was stressful seeing the death tolls on the news, but you had fun at home. And now that things had finally calmed down in Japan, it was time to return to work.

Despite your whines from earlier, you were honestly looking forward to work. It was fun being at home, especially when you had so much free time to binge watch all of your favorite shows, but that could be entertaining for so long before it lost its charm.

With a soft hum of some random song, you worked on making yourself breakfast. Nothing too fancy, just some frozen waffles that you shoved down the toaster and then later drizzled caramel on top. You moaned at the fluffy texture in your mouth, and briefly, you were reminded of your days in school. When it was the first day and your mother would be up early and making breakfast for you. You missed those days. Life was much simpler back then. You wondered if your baby brother missed the lively atmosphere while getting for school or not. When you swallowed the last piece of waffle, you washed the dish and utensils that you’ve used before heading back upstairs to shower and get ready for work.

You decided to wear a simple yellow sundress for work. The best thing about the company you worked in wasn't being strict with the clothes you wore. As long as they were modest and family friendly, they found no reason to implement a strict dress code. Your senior coworkers decided to stick with the traditional attire of dark colored business suits. As much as you loved black, you didn’t want to wear the dark color every single day.

After you finished dressing up, you applied light mascara and let your dark green, almost black, curly locks gently rest on your shoulders. Spraying some lavender scented perfume, you texted your mother that you were off to work. But not before you snuck into your brother’s room, brushed back his dark green curls and pecked his forehead.

It was strange seeing the normally crowded streets of Musutafu be so desolate. The vast streets that were once filled with cars, almost resembling a parade with its colors and soft purrs of the motors, only had four or five cars on each lane. It was almost unnerving how quiet the streets of Musutafu were. But no matter, at least now you didn’t have to worry about traffic. Sure, you took the bus to work, though it was still frustrating to be trapped in the middle of traffic while freaking out over being on work on time. Not that you ever had been late. You always managed to show up at least twenty minutes earlier than the intended time.

The smell of bleach and lemon wafted through your nose once you stepped foot into the modestly sized train station. Just like the streets of Musutafu, the train station was just as desolate. The buzz of passengers sizzled out to soft mummers. The sea of people shrunk to a puddle. And the cheery atmosphere became somber. It was depressing. Though that didn’t deter you. With your head held high, you went straight to your office that you would normally share with five other people. Due to the new government rule, however, employees who weren’t supervisors, managers or ceos will take shifts and return to work every other day. Meaning you only had to work with three other people today.

“Good morning, Y/N.” Was the first thing that greeted your ears when you opened your office door.

Your boss was...unorthodox. He had long wavy hair that he would put up in a messy bun. Grey circles could be seen under his eyes and a soft stubble peppered his chin and upper lip. If you could describe your boss, then you would use the adjectives: grumpy and sleep deprived.

“Good morning, Aizawa-san.” You replied with a smile. Though, at the remembrance of wearing a mask that was way too big for you and covered most of your face, you dropped the smile. Aizawa said nothing, only nodded his head and continued to type away on his computer.

As you sanitize your workstation and logged into your computer, your supervisor Yamada Hizashi, walked in and bellowed “Gooooooood morning my little ducklings!” You heard Aizawa groan under his breath and tried not to chuckle at his misery.

Aizawa and Yamada were childhood friends and coworkers. It baffled you at first when Nemuri, your co-supervisor, had mentioned it in passing. The two were extremely different. While Yamada was the bright sun on a summer’s day that humans longed for after a long and miserable winter, Aizawa was the moon that people sung praises to with his mysterious aura and charming personality. After working with them for a month, however, you could see how the two were best friends. They balanced each other out perfectly and would always bring out the best side of the other person.

“Must you be so loud so early in the morning.” It wasn’t meant to be a question but Yamada answered anyway.

“Yes, I must bless everyone with my beautiful voice.”

If he wasn’t in a work environment, you were certain that Aizawa would have smacked his head on his desk to end his misery.

A peaceful silence settled upon you and you awkwardly shifted in your seat. Neither Aizawa nor Yamada had instructed you with anything to do and you were starting to feel antsy. Just as you were about to excuse yourself to walk around the station, maybe get some fresh air, Aizawa cleared his throat and called your name. You sat up straighter in your chair and locked your eyes with his.

“Write a letter to the Council of Train Stations to approve the extension of payment fees deadline.” Instructed Aizawa before returning to face his computer.

Blinking twice, You wrote down what he said in your notebook and began working on the letter.

You worked in the administrative department of the train station. The company you worked with, All Might Train Station Management, was infamous in maintaining and developing the station. From managing stores, adding holiday decorations to conducting safety measures and promoting the best image of the station, those were among the many things that you will deal with for the next eight months.

Once you have submitted your letter, you inform Aizawa. Who just hummed at you in return, too absorbed in his own work.

This went on for two hours. Aizawa would ask you to write a letter, you wrote it down on your note and then typed it on your computer and submitted it. Sometimes, you would have to contact other employees from other departments to forward you files that you had to attach to your letters. It was stressful, but not unmanageable.

It was around twelve in the afternoon when Aizawa excused himself to meet with the president of the company, Toshinori Yagi. Shortly afterwards, Yamada also left the office to God knows where. A habit of his that you envied but would never actually do. Yamada had been working two years at the company so he had the privilege to take a break from work and wander around. Maybe someday you could do it too, but for now, You’re stuck in your office.

Noticing that none of them were returning any time soon, You took your wallet and made your way to the mini market for a cold beverage and some snacks. You didn’t want to eat lunch at work - not that you can anyways since the staff room was under maintenance - but you were starting to get hungry and you couldn’t work to the best of your potential with an empty stomach.

When you returned to your office, you spotted Aizawa back at his desk. Yamada was nowhere in sight. Quietly, so as to not disrupt your workaholic of a boss, you sat down on your chair and opened your bag of chocolate animal crackers and stabbed the straw into your mango juice box.

“You look like you’re in elementary school.”

Your head shot upwards at Aizawa’s comment and could feel your cheeks flushing with warmth and you were positive that they had turned a bright red color.

“Would you like some?” You blurted and instantly winced. It was no secret that you were an awkward person by nature and tended to blurt things out or ramble on when nervous. You tried improving that aspect of yourself at work, not wanting to embarrass yourself at work like you did in college. You wanted to be professional and taken seriously. But it was proving to be a challenge.

Aizawa appeared to be contemplating your offer, half distracted by whatever it was displayed in front of him on his computer. “Sure, why not.” He eventually replied with a shrug of his shoulders.

Your heart beat in anticipation as you stood up and crossed the short distance between your desk and his. Your hand held out the yellow bag of animal shaped chocolate crackers and watched as Aizawa dipped his hand and fish out two crackers; a panda and an elephant. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Your reply was soft, almost a squeak. Aizawa just hummed in response and returned to type away at his keyboard. You briefly toyed with the idea of being as busy Aizawa, to the point of being unaware of your surroundings.

The rest of the day went uneventful. Aizawa didn’t ask you to write any letters and Yamada didn’t return to the office until half an hour before work ended. The loud blonde asked Aizawa if he wanted to join him for lunch later and you held your breath at what your boss was going to reply, the thought of him living a normal life outside of these four walls was almost unimaginable. “Yeah, sure.” Ah, to see Aizawa in a casual setting, a privilege that you have to work very hard for.

When it was two in the afternoon, you turned off your computer, signed your name on the attendance sheet and bid farewell to your colleagues.

“Goodbye, my little duckling!” You heard Yamada say behind you while Aizawa grunted a quiet ‘bye’.

#aizawa x reader #aizawa imagine #aizawa scenario #aizawa x you #bnha imagine #bnha x reader

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