#im losing my mind pretending to think like everyone else

[skinnypaleangryperson]

the strange thing about American society is the default mentality is that no one expects you to be great and even assumes medicore or complancent headspaces, leading people to not even try to begin with, an those that have something to offer or try, the conversation doesn't even come up at all

[killjoy-prince]

Two people are stuck in a timeloop. The way they handle being in the loop is opposite to each other. One person plays along like everything is fine. The other is violently against it, denying everything. They think the other is responsible for putting them in the loop.

[woahjo]

The People We Became (Bakugou x Reader)

masterlist | ao3

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Summary: Zombie Apocalypse Au.

The world fell apart almost a year ago and you refused to go with it. Left alone and to your own devices in a world full of monsters, where the dead come back to life, you believe that maybe surviving isn't living.

When Katsuki finds you alone in the woods and on the precipice of collapsing from exhaustion, he decides to bring you back to the house his group calls home. Against your better judgement and hesitancy to become attached, you decide to stay. In this world, everyone has lost someone. No soul is spared the violence, and you start sleeping with Bakugou Katsuki to dull the ache. Somehow, peace finds you anyway, but not without sacrifice.

Chapter Content Warnings:  fem!reader, gender neutral pronouns, strangers to lovers, violence typical of zombies, blood, gore, romance, slow-ish burn (for the emotional stuff), angst, kissin', questions of identity, loss, grief, graphic depictions of death and/or violence, mentions and descriptions of starvation/exhaustion typical of an apocalypse setting, very slight implications of possible sexual violence typical of an apocalypse setting, derealization, depersonalization, weapons (guns, blades, and traps), loss of identity

All content warnings can be found on ao3 with the rest of the series.

Word Count: 14.4k — 53k total on ao3

A/N: it's finally done... i'm sweating. i screamed. i cried. i bled. you know the drill. i am posting this a little differently than my other fics and series. only the first chapter will be posted here on tumblr (this post), with the rest of it broken up into chapters and posted on ao3.. purely because it was originally meant as a one shot and i don't like posting chapters on tumblr. it's not built for that and im tired. anyway, im nervous this is my new baby and im pretty sure my soul is somewhere in here. if u read this, pls come tell me what you think.. it fuels me. enjoy, cry, sweat, or whatever else you do when you read. as always, thank you and i love you.

Two hundred and seventy six. It’s been two hundred and seventy six days since the world completely went to shit. You don’t really count the initial outbreak. The initial outbreak was relatively contained once people found out about it. You quarantined. You stayed inside. All it really took were a handful of idiots. Someone selfish. Someone who panicked and ran instead of facing the world honorably, and that was it. It only took days to lose almost every semblance of a normal life and a week to lose everything else. 

The light of your fire is dim, embers burning low as you sit in a foldable chair beside it. The chair is from a friend, someone you’re not with anymore and who went somewhere you couldn’t follow, and you've got a metal spatula in your hand. You're not sure why you grabbed it when you fled, but panic does weird things to the mind. You absentmindedly wonder why you’ve brought it along with you all this time. There’s no logical reason for you to tote the thing around. A friend had told you how strange it was that you thought to toss it into your bag and continue carrying it. This, along with a few other oddities, are all you managed to take from your house when the world fell to ruin. Everything else are things scavenged along the way or from people you'd met, joined, and lost. 

Maybe it’s because the spatula is somewhat normal, like somehow when you cook the game on your makeshift tin over your shitty fire, you can pretend you’re in your kitchen. A smash burger sounds good right now, with grilled onions on a brioche bun like the ones from the place by your apartment. 

The night is near silent and trees creak and crack like the hulls of great ships under heavy pressure, but the birds don't sing and nothing in the crowded wood you're taking shelter in makes a sound. Well, except for you and the gentle crackle of your fire. 

It’s easy to miss the noise that used to irritate you when the world goes quiet. You used to hate the sounds and lights of passing trucks when they’d cross on the street below your apartment window. Now, you’d do anything for the familiar comfort. The world is so dark and quiet, like it’s holding its breath and waiting for this to be over. The silence is almost too much, so loud that it hurts your ears. You huddle closer to the fire, craving its quiet sound. Focusing on it lessens the anxiety of the other noises. The ones you don’t want to hear. 

Your head is on a swivel. It has been for months. Ever since the outbreak, ever since the dead rose and began consuming and infecting the living, you've kept watch. A paranoid, never ending cycle that you suppose—if left on your own—will burn itself out. You swallow thick and return your attention to the fire, watching the tree line just in front of you for any hint of movement or monsters. 

A branch cracks just behind you. A swift sound, followed by rapid footsteps. You stand, quickly turning your head, only to see a figure a few feet away from you. They move quickly and the dancing light of the fire obscures their features from view. Their eyes, most importantly. You can always tell if someone is dead or alive based on their eyes and the sounds that their joints make. In this light, should this stranger have that milky white film over them, you wouldn't be able to tell. 

You make a small noise, something between a whimper and a shout, as the person comes to a stop in front of you and holds a flashlight directly into your face. You squint, panic in your veins as your eyes adjust as best they can to the sudden assault. It takes you a moment to realize that there is a gun pointed directly at your forehead. The living. This person is alive. You're not sure yet if encountering one of the dead would have been worse. 

"Shut up and drop your weapon," he says in a hurried voice. It's aggressive and threatening. It comes from deep in his chest, like somehow fear has gripped and mutilated it into something violent. 

You raise your shaky hands to your head quickly at the order, screwing your eyes shut in the beam of the flashlight. 

"It's not a weapon!" you shout, voice cracking. "It's a spatula. It's a spatula." 

The words are rushed and heavy, fear seizing your chest as you look down the barrel of the gun. The flashlight turns off, sending you back into the dark. Your eyes fight to adjust, catching the firelight that glints off of the barrel, and you begin to makeout the man’s features. He's big, blonde under the grime, you think. A man, not the best thing to encounter alone at night in times like these. 

You see him hesitate for a moment, eyes darting between you and the silver kitchen item in your hand. You drop it quickly, hoping to appeal to his humanity. 

"Do you have a weapon on you?" he questions, voice a little less urgent. 

You shake your head in response and then shakily look beside the chair, choking out the word “ground”. There's a knife there and a pistol with no bullets. You're a poor shot and you had run out of ammo the previous week. He glances at it, the gun still raised at you, and sidesteps to grab the two items. When he does, he cautiously lowers the weapon and you start to lower your trembling hands. 

Then, as if struck by some realization, the man stomps towards the fire and you jump as he does.

"The fuck are you doing lighting a fire this late?" he says angrily, opening the clip of your pistol. "And with no fucking bullets. Those things may be dead, but they can still fuckin' see. That's a good way to get yourself killed." 

He stomps out the fire as he talks, urgently stamping out what's left of the low-burning logs. 

"I didn't think there were many in the area," you justify, furrowing your eyebrows as you step away from him. 

"And that's a risk you want to take?" he says indignantly. You wonder briefly what business he has worrying about you. 

"What do you want?" you snap, "My food? Weapons? Life? What is it?" 

The man scoffs, "Jesus, none of that. I don’t want your shit." 

You narrow your eyes and take a step back. One thing this world has done is remove trust from every chance encounter, and that was already hard enough when the place was sane. 

"Not all people who camp out in the woods are good," he says. "But I sure as shit didn't expect to find someone like you alone lighting a damn fire. Stupid." 

"There were others," you say indignantly, like somehow that makes it better. "Force of habit, I guess." 

The man pauses for a moment as understanding passes between the two of you. It's a relatable feeling. Everyone has lost someone now. 

"Got a name?" he asks. 

You hesitate in giving it to him and the pause causes him to roll his eyes. “You want me to call you Idiot-with-no-bullets instead?” 

You give him your name and the man nods as if he likes the sound of it, turning it over in his head before inhaling. 

"I'm Katsuki," he furrows his eyebrows. "You're alone?" 

You nod, swallowing down the grief that pushes at your throat. 

"Wasn't always," you respond, "but yeah. Now, I am." 

He nods his understanding. 

"Come with me." 

"Where?" you say instinctively, a defensive edge to your voice. Katsuki looks at you as if you’re stupid, or maybe it's pity, like you're a wounded animal. Probably both. 

"Where the fuck do you think?" he retorts. "We've got a camp a little ways from here. I saw your fire from the watch post we have stationed." 

You look at him like he's a little crazy for even thinking to bring you. Kindness, especially the selfless type, is so rare now and you find it difficult to believe that he’s willing to take you there at no cost. 

He scoffs and rolls his head over his shoulder. "Look, we've got men and women," then he pauses. "Used to have children. We're not gonna hurt you. World's gone to shit, do you really wanna keep at it alone?" 

He's probably right. You've been alone for weeks now, exhausted for longer, and though your common sense tells you not to go off with a strange man in this kind of world, the promise of rest is far too tempting. You nod and glance back to your camp. A measly collection of supplies haphazardly put together. You suppose that it doesn’t look so promising. 

"We'll come back for it when it's light," he says. "I don't know about you, but I'd rather not spend longer in these dark ass woods than I have to." 

"Okay," you say. The presence of another person both sets you on edge and makes you feel the press of fatigue even more. A gun's barrel on your nose followed by the promise of safety and you're going with him? You must be stupider than a horror movie protagonist. "Do you take in a lot of strays?" 

Katsuki looks over his shoulder and you think you see him smile a little at the phrase. 

"If that's what you want to call it," he says begrudgingly. Then, with a softer tone of voice, barely noticeable with the quiet whisper you both have been speaking at. "I'm sure the others won't mind one more."

You nod a little and follow him through the wood, stepping over obstacles. Your eyes have adjusted to the dark, but you feel unsteady on your feet. Everything you’ve ever learned about this world tells you that maybe you shouldn’t go with him. What if they’re dangerous? It’s easy to lie about women and children, about a community that doesn’t exist. Or worse, it’s easy to fool yourself that where you are is good, but you don’t know yet if he’s the type to delude himself. He doesn’t seem it. 

The two of you walk for what feels like forever, even if it is only a little over half a mile. Your feet have been aching for days and every step you take feels like a blade into the heel. Katsuki seems steady, his gun secured at his hip and a large knife in his dominant hand. He doesn’t have the flashlight out, but he seems sure-footed and takes every step in stride, as if he’s too heavy to be swayed by any missed step. 

As you move, you can barely make out his back in the white tank top he wears. You use it as a landmark, following the glowing white as it catches the light from the moon. Like chasing a ghost through the trees. 

Then, the wood eases up. The trees grow sparse and the suffocating humidity of the forest eases into a more breathable, open-air breeze. Katsuki steps out into a clearing. It’s relatively small, for how large the world is, but it’s some of the most open space you’ve seen in a while. The feeling of stepping out into the tall grass, where you’re both visible to any wandering thing, sends a rush of fear through you. 

By the edge of the clearing, there’s a small house with a short steeple. It almost looks like a Christian church, but you get the sense that it’s likely a barn. That must be the watchtower and you wonder just how good the view of the forest is from up there if Katsuki managed to see the light of your fire. How many other people had seen your fires over the weeks and not made it out to confront you? How close had you come before to safety or annihilation? 

"Hey!" a girl's voice calls. "He's back!" 

In the near distance, you can see a large and dimly lit house. It looks a little worn down, but soft and hardly noticeable light emanates from it in a way that makes it seem inviting.You can’t make out its exact silhouette and night blurs just how broken-down it is, but you can tell that people live there in the same way you can tell when someone has just left a room. 

Someone runs across the field to you both. It looks like a man and a woman, maybe around Katsuki's age. They move quickly through the tall grass and for a moment, the urgency that they move with frightens you. You worry that your presence will ignite some protective sort of panic. You linger back, letting Katsuki grow a little farther from you as they call out to him. 

“Yeah, yeah," he half-shouts, no longer seeming to care about keeping quiet. Guess that's what happens when there's a group. "I found the fire I mentioned." 

The two come to a stop in front of him, resting their hands on their hips as they catch the breath they lost. 

"We started to get a little worried," says the girl. She's pretty, with big eyes and curly hair that looks like it probably used to be dyed. "You've been gone for a while." 

"Well, I'm back," he says. 

"And you brought a friend," the other man says, sounding shocked. His tone is noticeably kind. The boisterous type of kind and when he smiles, you can see that he has sharp canines. His hair is straight, sticking out in different directions, and tinged with red in this light.

"More like an acquaintance," Katsuki says. “I found them in the woods with a fire and an empty clip. Felt like their blood would be on my hands if I didn’t bring them back.” The red-haired man gives him a telling look and Katsuki scoffs in response and turns to the girl. "Get them settled, Mina, will you?" The girl called Mina nods and Katsuki takes off toward the house without another word. 

"You're lucky," she says, pausing when you flinch as she steps closer. "You're gettin' the last solo room in the place. Kirishima, is it set up?" 

Kirishima shrugs his shoulders. "You'd have to ask Izuku. He'd know all about that, but I can go check." 

Mina shakes her head and turns her attention to you, giving you a quick once over with her eyebrows pulled together.

"You must be tired.” 

When you nod, she gives you an empathetic smile and motions for you to come with her. "We'll fix that. You hungry?" 

"What do you think?" you manage, saliva pooling in your mouth. "Do you have food?" 

"Plenty," she smiles. "not quite enough for leftovers just yet though, don’t tell anyone." 

You smile awkwardly. Who on earth would you tell? 

"Sounds like a good deal," you say. 

You follow Mina up to the house. Around it, there are a few parked cars. They look like they could pull out at any moment, and through the dust covered windows, you can just make out supplies in the back seats as you pass. In the distance, you can see the fuzzy silhouette of the barn you’d assumed was a watchtower in the dark of the field and you figure that maybe it used to be a place to keep livestock. 

Mina doesn't say much to you as you pass through the field, and when you walk into the door, the first thing you notice is a large group of people seated at a dining table. They all look up at you when you enter and it's with a bit of shock that you register their faces as healthy. Well, healthier. These people live well. Something stirs in your chest, both anxiety and excitement at the thought of possibly having found somewhere safe. They blink at you for a moment, exchanging looks that all end up landing on Katsuki. 

"This is the group. Well, most of us," Mina says pleasantly and with a light huff. "That's Izuku, Denki, Ochako, Sero, and you already know the handsome guy on the end there. Kiri's probably checking to see if the room is half decent.." They all greet you with a glad murmur. "Group, this is..." 

She looks at you expectantly. When you tell them your name, you can't help but look at Katsuki who already knows it. He raises his eyebrows unconsciously and turns his attention to the glass in front of him. 

There’s an awkward pause as you stand in the doorway, suddenly conscious of just how dirty you must look. Remnants of an older world, you suppose. No one really worries about things like that anymore.

“Uhm…” you search for something to say, but your people skills seem to have left you. 

“You’re okay,” Mina says lightly. “Plenty of time to get to know you when you’ve rested and had something to eat.” 

Mina sits you down at a chair that she pulls in from the other room. It doesn't match the other ones in the dining room, but you suppose no one is really thinking of the decor in their house anymore. It's only now that you realize the house has electricity.

"You have power?" you say incredulously, looking at the center light in the dining room on its low setting. 

"Mhm," Mina hums as she sits down next to you and spoons a helping of vegetables onto your plate. "It's got a generator. We got lucky finding this place. I don't think many of us would be alive if we hadn't." 

Those listening in the group nod their affirmation. 

"It draws from well water too," she adds. "With the right care, the place practically runs on its own. Hard work but what isn't nowadays?" 

“Like you do any of the heavy lifting," Sero scoffs across from her.

"That's not fair," Katsuki adds with a slick smirk, "you know damn well none of our vegetables would be so well socialized if she didn't use them like a damn diary all day." 

The group laughs a little and Mina rolls her eyes and sits back in the chair. You avoid looking at anyone, shoveling the food into your mouth. You’re salivating an almost embarrassing amount, struggling to eat at a normal pace. There’s something about food cooked inside, about the way food tastes when you can smell it wafting in from the kitchen. 

"Don't worry," she turns to you, as if you’re at all concerned with the implication that she doesn’t do much work, "they know we’d hardly have vegetables at all if it weren't my job to tend them. I used to garden quite a bit before all of this." 

Sero tosses her a sideways glance and you get the sense that maybe it isn’t just her doing it. 

"Mina does a lot of the garden stuff," Ochako pitches in, her voice hesitant. "We all sort of just do what we can." 

You can’t really keep up with the conversation and instead just blink at her for a moment before turning back to your food. Maybe that’s rude, but you don’t have the energy to consider it. There’s food in front of you. Food that doesn’t taste like it’s been poorly slaughtered or rotting in a cabinet for months. 

The group at the table with you shifts back into what you feel is their normal conversation and you watch them through your peripheral. You can’t relax yet, maybe you never will. Always on watch with your guard up. 

They pass the dishes around the table, plates going from hand to hand over mismatched sets of silverware. The action feels strange to you. Your chest squeezes at the thought. Just a few weeks ago, you’d done this around a fire with the people you loved. You’d passed a too-hot-to-touch pot around a circle of friends, laughing quietly at the little moments of joy you could find. It feels far away now and jealousy rouses beside hope as you sit. 

“So, where did you come from?” Izuku at the end of the table asks. 

It takes you a moment to realize that he’s talking to you and there’s an edge to his voice that has everyone at the table sitting up with curiosity. You stare at him for a moment, exhausted and defeated and unable to muster the words. 

“Leave them be,” Katsuki says, looking up from his plate. “They just got here. They’re probably freaked out.” 

The table goes a little quiet, a hush falling over it. You look around as glances are exchanged before Mina stands up quickly and quietly claps her hands together. 

“I think,” she says with an awkward laugh, “it may be time for bed.” 

Mina turns to you. “I’ll show you where you can sleep.” 

You nod, standing up and turning to the group with furrowed eyebrows. You want to thank them, to tell them that you’re grateful for the meal and their kindness, but the words don’t come. Instead, you meet Katsuki’s gaze, grateful for the intervention, but suspicious at such forthcoming kindness. He scoffs a little and turns away. 

—

“It’s just up here,” Mina says as she guides you through the house.

You pass rooms with their doors ajar. They are lived in, with unmade beds and glasses of clean water on nightstands. It’s like something out of a life gone by, with a few less amenities. You can imagine a family moving through this house. Girls in school uniforms calling through the halls about a stolen hair clip. Now, you picture these people doing that. Living and not just surviving.

“The bathroom is across the hall,” she says. “You can take a shower if you want. I’ll leave a towel and some clothes in there just in case.”  

You nod. 

“No worries if you don’t,” Mina adds in a whisper. “When I first met everyone, I didn’t undress to bathe for days so… take your time. We won’t be offended.” 

She shuts the door behind her when she leaves and you stumble back onto the bed, shocked by just how soft it feels after spending weeks on the floor. It’s not much, but it’s nicer than anything you’ve experienced in the last nine months, and there's a working shower. You haven’t had a shower since everything fell apart and the layer of grime on your skin is so thick that you can feel it. You haven’t felt safe enough to properly wash since you’d lost the rest of your group, only stopping to rinse your body in streams you pass if the thought occurred to you. The idea of running water and a shower is near euphoric. 

You probably shouldn’t. It may not be wise to shower tonight. You still don’t know these people or what they’re capable of, but the temptation of being clean is too great and as soon as you hear Mina close the bathroom door and walk away, you hurry across the hall on the balls of your feet. 

The bathroom looks old and the sink is white porcelain, eggshell now with a lack of care. The shower has a bathtub in it and though it’s cloudy, there’s a mirror over the sink where you catch the first clear glimpse you’ve had of yourself in weeks. 

You don’t know who you’re looking at. The person in the mirror is nearly unrecognizable. Their eyes are wide and frightened, wild like an animal’s, and their face is covered in a layer of grime that looks like it can never be washed out. Their hair is unruly, sticking out in some areas and matted down with blood in others. This is a person you’ve never seen or met before. Someone you would have avoided only a year ago if you’d ever encountered them. 

You reach up to touch your face, running your hand over the dried blood that has made a home on the underside of your jaw. How long has it been there? Have you always looked so unwell? So sick in mind and body? The promise of a shower grows unbearably pleasant. 

The knob squeaks when you turn it, screeching as the pipes hum and clang to life. Water spits out in a few bursts before raining down from the faucet and hitting the back of the tub in a steady thrum. It sounds a little bit like music to you, constant and heavy, and it gives the impression of normalcy as you begin undressing. 

The fabric of your clothes sticks to your skin, peeling from your body in an unbearable and disgusting way. You don’t look at your body in the mirror. In fact, you avoid it entirely. Not recognizing your face was enough, but your body—a part of yourself you never really recognized—would drive you over the edge. 

Then, you pull the shower curtain back and stick your hand under the water, stepping into it fully with a deep sigh. The water is lukewarm. They probably turned off the heater to conserve power and allow the main generator to function for longer. That’s fine. Beggars can’t be choosers and everyone is a beggar nowadays. Besides, it’s warm enough outside that the water isn’t too cold as it is. In the winter, you probably wouldn’t be able to shower and the pipes might freeze entirely until the following spring. 

There’s a normalcy that you settle into as you wash your body. You return to muscle memory, running your hands over your skin and scrubbing the grime out. It’s simultaneously like the first shower of your life and as if you’ve been doing it every day. You return to a state of pleasant, familiar humanity as you wash away dirt that has built up for weeks. You feel as it pours off of you, see it run down your body onto the porcelain of the tub and swirl down the drain. It’s dirt and dried blood that has been caked onto your skin. You worry that even after washing, it will leave a permanent mark. 

The person in the mirror when you get out of the shower is in stark contrast to the person who went into it. They’re someone that you recognize. You could almost convince yourself that nothing ever changed. Your water-soaked skin is so familiar to you, that you could be getting out of the shower and dressing to go to work. If it weren’t for the look in your eyes, you could have fooled yourself. Something undefinable has changed in you, something that you will carry with you forever. You glance at yourself in the foggy mirror and think that there is no going back. 

The house is quiet when you dry yourself and open the bathroom door. You step across the hall on the balls of your feet, careful not to make any noise, and when you push the bedroom door open, you do a visual sweep to make sure that it’s safe out of habit. 

Your body is exhausted. You are so thoroughly tired that you think you could collapse at any moment, but when you sit down on the bed in your fresh clothes, you find yourself restless. This place is new to you and you’re unsure if the safe feeling is your mind playing desperate tricks on you or the real thing. The lamp by your bed is on, casting a yellow glow across the bedsheets and the dark wood furniture. Come to think of it, you didn’t get a good look at the house when you came in and the thought starts to bother you as you stare at the closed door to the hallway. 

Someone could be behind it. They could be waiting for you to lay down, to sleep, before doing something awful. You almost feel guilty for thinking this way about them. They’ve fed you, given you a shower, given you fresh clothes. Luxuries you weren’t sure even existed anymore, yet you’re sitting here doubting them, wishing you had your pistol or knife.

The bedroom door creaks as you open it. You wince, nervous that you’ve disturbed the quiet peace of the house and that everything will come crashing down as quickly as it seemed to come together. The hallway is dark, save for some light coming from under two doors at the end of the hall. One of them turns out as you creep past it to the stairs, and you hear the distinct sound of box springs squeaking as someone crawls into bed. You let go of the breath you’d been holding, straightening up as you relax into the late-night environment. 

The house looks old even from the inside. It gives the impression of having once been dirty and in near disrepair. There are dust stains and dull spots that no amount of scrubbing could get out. You can almost picture how this place may have looked when they found it and it’s entirely possible that it had been abandoned before the actual outbreak. Someone run out of their home for lack of money. What a trivial thing now. 

The stairs are sturdy, probably held together so well by the foundation of the house, and they’re made of dark wood. They’re steep too, the kind that a baby or old person might trip over, and you hold the railing to calm the shaking of your legs as you slowly feel your way down. You can see the light on in the kitchen from around the corner, spreading out onto the floor of the old fashioned drawing room. Dishes clink in the kitchen, like someone is washing them, and you jump a little at the noise as you creep around the corner. 

Kirishima is standing at the sink with his back to you, whispering something to someone beside him. The expanse of his back is broad, moving every time he goes to run his hand over the dish in front of him. Then, he turns to look at you and you see Mina pop her head around the corner. 

“Oh,” Kiri says, “did you need something?” 

You shake your head. “Not really, I just couldn’t sleep.” 

Kiri nods sympathetically as if he knows the feeling. “Well, you look like you feel a little better at least.” 

You pad over to where he’s doing the dishes and Mina offers you a soft smile and a knowing look. It all seems so normal. Doing the dishes, whispering quietly as they do. Something about it screams a kind of humanity you haven’t experienced in a long while, even with your last group. 

“Are you sure we can’t get you something?” Mina says, furrowing her brows. 

“Why are you all being so nice to me?” You ask. “You don’t know the first thing about me.” 

“Is there some reason why we shouldn’t be nice to you?” Kiri says over his shoulder. 

“No,” you shake your head. “I just think it’s reckless, that’s all. I could have been anyone.” 

Kirishima and Mina exchange a look. They glance at each other, like they’re debating on saying something, and then Kiri turns and rests his palms on the back of the sink. He looks at Mina. 

“We don’t usually decide to do this so quickly,” she admits. “We’re friendly, but nobody’s that friendly anymore.” 

Kiri nods his agreement and you listen quietly, trying to determine if they plan to toss you back out into the woods in the morning. 

“But, Katsuki doesn’t usually bring people in,” she continues. 

“He’s a little more closed off than the rest of us,” Kirishima adds. “He’s a good guy, just takes a while to warm up, is all.” 

“Mhm,” Mina says. 

“What does that have to do with me?” you ask. “This is nice and all, but I’m sure you get why I’m wary.” 

“He’s a good judge of character,” Kiri adds earnestly. “He doesn’t bring people in often, but when he does, he’s usually right.” 

You nod, not quite understanding. Sure, you don’t plan to do anything terrible. In fact, you’re content to accept their kindness and stay, if they’d let you. Anything is better than being alone, but their blind trust in one man’s judgment of character makes you uneasy. 

“He was alone for a really long time,” Mina adds. “A lot of us were. I got lucky meeting Kirishima early on, but Katsuki’s luck was a little less fortuitous.” 

“So you all just… happened upon each other by chance?” You ask. 

“Yeah, pretty much,” Mina says. “It was me and Kiri for a long time. Just the two of us. We’d found Izuku and Katsuki together a while later, but they didn’t seem to like each other all that much. We still haven’t really figured that out, especially because they’re so close now. Ochako and Sero ended up cornered together by accident. We found them just before we found this place, and Denki just sort of showed up here one day and promised to fix the generator in exchange for safety. That was months ago. We’ve been like this since.”

“So you’re all strays,” you say and Mina laughs a little and looks at Kiri. 

“Sure,” she says. “We’re all strays. There were others too. Shoji. Jirou. She was Denki’s girlfriend.” 

“I’m sorry,” you say with a frown. It feels pointless to apologize for the dead, if you get caught up in it, you’d be apologizing forever. 

“Don’t be,” Kiri adds. “But best not to bring her up. It was pretty recent and Denki’s only just started to get over it.” 

You swallow thick and nod a little. 

“Anyway,” Mina says, “we can’t really explain it. We just trust him. We trust Katsuki. That’s all.” 

“Hm,” you hum, understanding that to a degree. 

You trusted the people in your group. If they believed in someone, you were willing to as well, so you suppose you can understand a little where they’re coming from. 

“What are you talking about,” Katsuki rounds the corner, walking into the kitchen and putting his water bottle under the sink. 

“Nothing really,” Mina says. 

Katsuki furrows his eyebrows and then looks at you. He gives you a once over, taking in your new clothing before scoffing lightly. 

“Don’t you look cozy,” he says. “You get settled?” 

“When can I go get my stuff?” You ask. 

“Someone’s eager,” he says through lightly gritted teeth. “Didn’t I tell ya we could go in the morning? Besides, what’s there really to miss in that lot of junk?” 

“Katsuki!” Mina quietly chides. 

“I have things I care about there,” you say. “Things I’m not ready to lose.” 

Katsuki blinks at you for a second before swearing under his breath. “We’ll leave when you get up in the morning.” 

“You don’t have to come with me,” you say, frowning a bit at his sour attitude. 

“Like hell,” he scoffs. “What if the dead are waiting back there for you?” 

“I made it this far on my own,” you respond. 

Katsuki nods for a second. “I’m going. Come find me in the morning.” 

He walks off and around the corner. You hear him go up the stairs, followed by the distinct click of a bedroom door shutting. 

“Don’t pay too much attention to that,” Mina says. “It’s past his bedtime.” 

“You’ll get used to him,” Kiri adds. 

“Right,” you say, swallowing down your frustration in favor of trying to be appreciative of the help. You sway on your feet a little and then steady yourself. “I’m going to go to sleep. Thank you for the meal and the bed.” 

Mina and Kiri nod, but you don’t stick around to hear a response. Fatigue creeps up on you. It ambushes your senses and you go from feeling dream-like to delusional in a matter of moments. You make your way up the stairs, your body feeling heavy as lead, and wobble your way into the bedroom they’re letting you stay in. 

When your head hits the pillow, you’re out. The world around you fades to dark and just before you sleep, you swear that you can hear the sounds of cars passing on the highway. A busy night, Saturday maybe, and people go about their daily lives outside of the window the way that they always have. They live, never the wiser to just how quickly things fall apart and how little it takes for our humanity to leave us. 

— 

Mornings in this place are boisterous. The sun coming through the lone window in your room wakes you up and you can hear the calls of busy people getting to work outside. There are voices from the porch out front that your window looks over and though you can’t see them, you get the sense that they’re having a pleasant conversation. 

As you rouse, you come to the realization of just how exhausted you’d really been. They probably saved your life by bringing you to this place, feeding you, and offering you a bed. In hindsight, it’s easy to see just how little you had left in you. You get the sense now that you’d been running on an empty tank for days, slowly coming to an inglorious, gruesome, sputtering stop. 

Things seem a little clearer, like the sunlight is somehow less bleak than it had been the days previous and you feel a little bit like you have a new lease on life. There are no big emotions, no swells of hope or humanity just yet, and you dread the moment you are rested enough to let grief consume you. Right now, you can’t feel it, but there is a fear in you that as you get to know these people who live relatively beautifully in an ugly world, it will weigh you down so much that you’ll never be able to outrun it. 

You wonder if they’ll let you stay. They very well may not, even with the way they were talking last night. Strangers are more dangerous than they’ve ever been and if they ask you whether or not you’ve killed someone, you refuse to lie to them. Sitting up on the bed, you mull over the very real possibility that you could be back out there on your own again in a matter of days and you don’t even have that many good acts under your belt to plead your case. You’re just a person and you’ve done what you needed to in order to survive. Now, you’re not sure if that’s enough. 

You swallow thick, wandering over to the mirror on the dresser. It’s fogged, though less than the bathroom mirror, and you can make out your features a little better than you could last night. You feel a bit more sane, though you still don’t recognize the frightful and distrustful look in your eyes. Like a wounded animal. Inside your head, you acknowledge that you are completely different from the person you were two hundred and seventy seven days ago. 

The voices grow louder as you climb down the stairs, more secure on your feet than you felt last night. You can hear them talking about the generator, as well as a name you don’t recognize. 

“He should be back by now,” a woman says. “Shoto’s never gone longer than a day or two, max.” 

“We shouldn’t jump to conclusions,” another woman says with a worried bite in her voice. Mina, maybe? “We’re only a few hours into the day. He probably got holed up somewhere.” 

“Someone needs to go look for him,” a man says.

“And what? Risk getting yourself killed?” the first woman says. “No, it doesn’t make sense. We need you here.” 

“You’d rather we leave him to die on his own?” 

“No one’s fuckin’ dying.” 

You recognize Katsuki’s voice. 

“He’s perfectly capable of going on a gasoline run,” he continues. “He’s done it before.” 

“I should have gone with him,” says the same woman. 

“On that leg? You wouldn’t have made it halfway to town, let alone there and back,” his voice raises a little. “Don’t be stupid. He’ll be back.” 

You clear your throat and step around the corner. The group turns to face you quickly at the sound, their eyes wide for a moment before relaxing. You can’t sneak up on anyone nowadays. 

“Sorry,” you say, “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. Is everything okay?” 

It’s not your business, but you ask anyway, wondering for yourself about the safety of Shoto. 

“Fine,” Izuku says, shaking his head. You recognize him to be the one who'd vouched for going after their friend. Katsuki takes a step away from the broad man as he says this. “Nothing for you to worry about. Did you rest?” 

Izuku smiles gently at you, his chest inflating a little at the question. The movement broadens his shoulders and you realize that he stands almost a head taller than Katsuki. You look briefly between the two of them before nodding. 

“I did,” you say. “Thank you.” 

“Nothing wrong with a little hospitality now and then,” he smiles and you can’t help but furrow your eyebrows at the distinct hesitance in his voice. 

“I don’t think we’ve met,” the woman standing across from Izuku says. “I’m Momo. Sorry I wasn’t there to meet you last night. I’ve been a little under the weather.” 

You introduce yourself to her and glance down at her leg. Her ankle is swollen and wrapped in a bandage. Her sneaker laces are untied at the top to make room for the swelling and you can see that she’s guarding that side of her leg. 

“Is it…?” you grimace, taking an instinctive step away from her. You almost feel bad for it, but sometimes good people make bad decisions when loved ones get bit. 

“No,” she says quickly, “no, it isn’t. Caught an edge in an old chain link fence on the property a couple days back.” 

Momo smiles slightly at you as if to reassure you. She’s really beautiful, with thick dark hair pulled back into a somewhat messy ponytail. Her eyes are bright, like she’s engaged in lively conversation, and you find yourself feeling a little sad for her. She’ll need medicine soon, if they can get it. Infections set in easily these days and you get the sense that even she knows that she may not have long without it. Maybe that’s something else their friend Shoto set out to find. 

“I assume you’ll be wanting to go get your supplies?” Katsuki says, cutting the conversation short. Maybe he could sense the sour turn of thoughts. 

“Ready when you are,” you respond with a nod. 

Katsuki glances at Izuku, who gives him a slightly disapproving look. 

“Someone get them something to eat,” Katsuki says. “...I’ll get my shit ready.” 

“Fig jam…” Mina mumbles as she motions for you to follow her to the kitchen. 

You oblige her, not exactly jumping to turn down a meal. She walks you into the kitchen and opens up a cabinet, where she pulls out a jar filled with a dark and seed filled paste. It’s a jam, sealed in a jar that looks older than what’s inside of it. The seal breaks open with a pleasant pop. 

“This stuff is so good,” she says to you over her shoulder, pulling out a package of crackers that have likely gone stale. “You won’t believe it.” 

She spreads the jam on a few crackers and sets it in front of you on a plate, pushing it across the counter towards you. 

“It’s fig jam,” she says with a smile. “Homemade.” 

You look down at the plate, your mouth watering at the prospect of something sweet like this. It’s been so long since you've had fresh jam. It could be as long as 10 years. You don’t think you’ve had it since you were a kid, when jam came easily and you preferred the processed brands at the supermarket to the ones your mom used to make sometimes. 

You raise the cracker to your mouth and stuff it in with little grace. The sweetness spreads across your tongue as soon as you bite into the stale cracker. It fizzes and pops almost, the sugar melting across your tongue as the seeds crack softly between your teeth. The smile that hits your face is completely involuntary and though you know that nine months ago, this jam wouldn’t have been much, today it is something extraordinary. 

Mina nods a kind of girlish agreement, like the way people used to when they had their friend try something at their favorite restaurant. 

“We got here in the fall. I want to say late October or early November?” she offers. “We were starving and there wasn’t enough food to feed all of us. By that time there were like… nine of us.” 

You listen as you eat your crackers. 

“This place was in such an awful state,” she laughs. “I mean, really terrible. But, it was big and there was a fig tree in the back. A little thing, probably only a few years old and it had fruit on it. We ate so many of them that if the world were normal, we’d have sworn off of them forever. When we realized that the house actually had some old food in it,” she interrupts herself “-nothing good, canned stuff mostly- we decided to jar up the rest of the figs so that they didn’t rot.” 

She smiles at you like it’s a pleasant memory, but you can only think about how hungry they must have been. Your stomach growls as you eat. 

“I know it doesn’t sound like much,” she says, “but for some reason it’s a really nice memory. Honestly, we’re lucky we didn’t die.” 

Mina laughs a little. 

“I mean,” she continues, “we didn’t even clear the area before we started pulling at the figs and throwing them into our mouths.” 

You tilt your head at her and furrow your eyebrows with a small smile. 

“You’re really forthcoming with information.” 

“You just seem a little hesitant, is all,” she answers. 

“Can you blame me?” 

Mina shrugs her shoulders but doesn’t really offer an answer. You assume it’s because she can’t, because Mina has the same doubts everyone carries with them in this world. All of the what ifs people would think about before they slept have become more prevalent than anyone would have ever liked. 

“The jam is good,” you say, trying to be friendly in the same way she is. “Even if it is months old.” 

“Things keep well in jars,” Mina defends softly, smiling a little as she gets another out of you. 

This place feels like a little slice of paradise. A blessing from whoever lived here before and kept a garden stocked with vegetables. From someone who lived in an old house with stables and well-water, who kept canned food past its expiration date. It feels almost too good to be true, like these people live in a bubble bound to pop. 

“You ready?” Katsuki thuds into the kitchen with an empty backpack slung over his shoulder. 

You turn, startled by his sudden appearance and nod as you quickly finish chewing the last cracker. Katsuki furrows his eyebrows as he watches the way you scarf it down. 

When you stand from the table, Katsuki turns on his heel to make for the front door and you follow with a light step. Mina says something about staying safe, but you don’t respond, glancing once over your shoulder at the girl. 

It’s strange, the world has made you wishy-washy and uncommitted. You never used to be like that, never so distrusting as to second guess someone’s kindness the moment your back is turned to them, and you’re certainly not the type to be friendly one moment and closed off the next. Now though, you find that doubt creeps in easily through cracks and any foundation that didn’t exist before, seems to be swallowed before you can finish building it. 

Katsuki leads you back across the small clearing you’d come through the night before. It looks different in the day, almost romantic, and it lacks any of the ominous feeling it had the previous evening. He steps over mounds in the dirt from moles and gophers that have made lawns their new home and you try to mimic his steps, sinking occasionally into a particularly soft patch of dirt. Every now and then, Katsuki glances behind him to check that you’re still there and you offer him a forced smile that he never returns.

You catch up to him when you hit the trees, sticking close at his side like something will come and take you away if you’re not. It’s unintentional, but you don’t have a weapon on you. Your knife is back at your makeshift camp, along with the unloaded pistol and your trusty spatula. 

“How do you know where we’re going?” You ask in a whisper. 

Katsuki tosses a look at you over his shoulder. “I’m good with directions.” 

His tone is clipped, like he’s pissed about something, and your expression sours at it. Sure, you get it but it irritates you to some small degree. You hadn’t asked him to come along. In fact, you’d have been fine getting back here to collect your stuff on your own. You’d have asked for a knife and set out without a second thought, if only because being alone in the woods with some guy was less preferable than doing it by yourself. Of course, some guy also probably saved your life, but you’re not quite ready to relinquish your trust completely. 

“Thanks for coming,” you decide. A peace offering. 

Katsuki doesn’t answer and you furrow your brows a little bit. You wonder if he’s always been like this or if the end of the world brought on the loss of his manners. 

Then, he stops, taking you by the arm and pulling you down beside a bush. You gasp and he puts his hand over your mouth to silence you. There’s the urge to bite him, to catch the fleshy bit connecting his thumb and pointer finger between your teeth and bite down till he bleeds, but you stop when you catch what he’s looking at. 

Two of the living dead crouch by a tree, clicking their tongues as they eat something just out of sight. You furrow your eyebrows, eyes widening at the horror of it. For some reason, seeing them always brings about a round of momentary shock. You’ve yet to let go of the hounding thought that they used to be people and sometimes have to reorient yourself to the world you’re in now. 

You catch Katsuki’s eye behind you, his calloused hand still clasped over your mouth, and nod your head. It’s a silent communication that you’ve seen what he has and he removes his palm from your face to grab a knife tucked into his belt, passing it to you quickly. 

The two infected haven’t noticed the two of you yet, but they will soon, if only by the smell of your flesh which has yet to rot. You hear Katsuki let out a breath, as if to calm his heart, and do the same. There’s time to look at them like this and you’re struck by how human you can pretend they are in your head. Well, you suppose they were human once, now they’re a disease using someone’s skin as a mask. 

Infected people aren’t quick, that’s one thing to be grateful for. Back when the outbreak first started, the CDC had released information on what to look out for in those who might have contracted the virus. The first was obviously a bite wound from another infected person, but you can tell from other symptoms. Early symptoms are average. Body aches, fever, lethargy, and delirium. All things you might see with a nasty flu. Then, infection of the wound site, twitching, foggy eyes—like low-grade cataracts—that develop within a matter of hours or days, severe disorientation, aversion to food, insomnia, with the final symptom being a coma that no one ever wakes up as themselves from. 

These are the symptoms that people are conscious for. The ones they feel. The sickness that people tried to nurse others back from. There is no coming back though, not alive at the very least. The virus attacks the nerves throughout the brain and body, that’s what causes the twitching and convulsions. It’s what ultimately kills us, and it's what they think causes the bodies to come back. 

Most infected will crack when they move. It’s the cartilage breaking down as the bones grind together and crack as they’re weakened from the marrow out. They twitch like rabid animals, unable to keep masterful control of their bodies because they are run like puppets from the brain stem. You don’t know if they think. If somehow the people they used to be are still in there, unable to stop themselves from consuming and spreading the virus to others. All you really know is that they twitch and click, functions of the brain that still remain. Tiny impulses sent through the synapses. You imagine it to be like the way you twitch when you sleep, an arm here or a leg there, the way someone might call out with their voice to a room with no one in it. 

Maybe the infected think they’re dreaming. A nightmare that they never wake up from, like those of us who have to put them down. You could see it as a mercy from that perspective. You have an easier time rationalizing putting a knife in someone’s skull if you convince yourself that they’re silently begging for it. 

Katsuki shifts his weight and looks at you. He mouths the words no guns and you nod, briefly wondering where the fuck he thinks you could have gotten a gun from. 

Then, you kick off and run with Katsuki towards the infected. They don’t really have time to begin moving towards you both. You’re faster than them, but you hear the crack of their legs as they stand from their crouched positions, pulled in at the idea of their next meal.

Katsuki takes the farther one, sinking the knife into the soft spot of its temple with relative ease. You switch yourself off and take the one closest only a few moments later, sending your blade through the top of its skull. That happens to you when you have to do this. You turn yourself off for a bit, just so that you don’t have to remember the way it feels to hit the soft part of someone’s brain. You didn’t used to do that, only starting when you realized that there’s no going through this world anymore without it. 

Katsuki wipes the blood on his pants. It’s brown, no longer oxygenated, and the area around you begins to reek. You notice, but for some reason the smell of decomposition doesn’t register in your brain and you continue on behind him. 

There are a few beats of silence, save for twigs breaking under your feet, before Katsuki speaks up. 

“You okay?” It’s barely above a whisper and you wouldn’t have caught it were you not listening for the distinctive crack of human bones. 

“Yeah,” you say, continuing forward. 

The campsite rounds into view and in this light, with your full night’s sleep under your belt, you can see just how pitiful it looks. A tent that you’d hastily put up before nightfall, the remains of your stamped out fire, the folding chair which has since been knocked over, and your weapons on the floor covered by a few leaves disturbed by the wind. 

You snatch them up and move to grab your backpack out of the tent. The inside is shitty too and your torn sleeping bag hadn’t even been rolled out yet. You pick up the bag, returning to the folding chair as Katsuki begins to take down the tent. The polyester and nylon blend zips together as he makes quick work of folding it. Then, he kicks some dry brush over the remains of the fire, like he’s covering your tracks. 

“The next person that comes through here might not be alone,” he says plainly. “And they may have more bullets than you did.” 

“Right,” you respond. Your voice sounds a little far off and you settle your backpack on your shoulder in one quick motion. 

“Got everything?” 

You nod, following him as he heads out in the direction you both came from. The two of you pass the bodies of the infected you’d killed. The smell has permeated the air, lingering like how it does in cities, only less pungent. Their fogged eyes stare blankly at nothing, expressions plain and unreadable. You pass and try not to think much about it. 

Katsuki is a few feet ahead of you and he doesn’t glance back to make sure you’re following. You could leave now and never get attached to these people. You could head off in another direction and never have to think twice about it. No more worrying about who you could lose, about who’s next to become one of the sick masses. Just you by yourself. Then, when you finally kick the can, someone else can put you down the way you did to those strangers. 

Is there really a point to it anymore? To community or living in general. No one is as they once were. Does that make it fantasy to live in their beautiful bubble? Could you even find it in yourself to pretend again, to make nice and play house in that place? They saved your life, sure. They fed you, clothed you, bathed you, but for what point? Tomorrow, you could end up back in the woods, lighting fires with twigs you found in the brush, paranoid that someone would find you or the fire would spread. 

You watch Katsuki’s back as he moves, shoulders shifting with each step. His shirt is stained, white turned eggshell from the wear and tear of time. It seems so off to you that he looks relatively clean, like he lives well. 

Fear strikes you as you realize that your rambling thoughts have merit. Anything you fear now has become real and loss is so tangible to you that you can squeeze it in your hand. They could turn you out. Tomorrow night you could begin the starve and step all over again, moving from place to place, talking to yourself, filling your hours with paranoid thoughts like these that plague you when you’re alone. Is that worse than loss? If you’re alone long enough, you’d probably forget what you’re missing. Losing anyone else could make the wound fresh. For now, the hunger wins out. 

Katsuki jogs ahead of you to get to the house. Momo is on the porch waving him in and he hurries up the steps and bursts through the front door. As you approach, you can hear voices, some of which are relieved, others hurried. When you enter the room, you find a man standing there whom you’ve never seen before, Shoto maybe. 

“A plus one,” the man looks up, tilting his head at you in an odd way. 

“Katsuki’s,” Kiri says with a low smirk. 

Shoto’s eyes widen as he peers at his friend, clutching what looks like an injured shoulder. Katsuki just huffs his irritation. 

“Well, that’s rare,” Shoto says. 

“What’s rare?” Katsuki spits. “They were in the woods with a fire. What was I supposed to do? Let ‘em die?” 

“Maybe,” Shoto says, a light smile creeping onto his features. Then, he turns to you. “What’s your name?” 

You give it to him and he nods his head, tilting it at you again. 

“How long are you staying?”

You’re not sure how to answer that question. In fact, no one is, and it feels like more of a test than it does a genuine inquiry. Kiri and Mina exchange a glance and Katsuki tosses a somewhat dirty look towards Shoto. Ochako gives Shoto a knowing glance and Sero and Denki shift uncomfortably on their feet. Then, Momo clears her throat, spurring Izuku to say something. 

“Shoto,” he says. “You’re probably hungry, you should eat something and lay down. Ochako? Could you take a look at his shoulder?” 

“Sure,” the girl says softly, giving a closed mouth smile to Shoto as she takes him by the arm. 

She glances at you as she passes, almost like she’s too embarrassed to look at you fully in the face. You suppose this is what happens when people are forced to think about whether or not they will potentially leave someone else to die. It’s like the trolley cart question and though in this case there is always the possibility of a better outcome, it’s not likely in this world. 

“Just until I’m rested,” you add with a small tilt of your head. “A few days.” 

Shoto looks at you over his shoulder and gives you a small smile. It’s funny, you can see kindness there. His actions aren’t kind, but you can feel that he has kindness in him, though his rudeness stems from something different than Katsuki’s, you think. Like he’s strange in some way. 

“I’ll start on dinner,” Sero says. “Kiri, give me a hand.” 

The group disperses and you head upstairs without speaking to anyone else. A few days to rest and then cut the first people you’ve spoken to in weeks loose. What sort of idiot gives up something like this to avoid a little awkwardness? Not that you necessarily had your mind made up. You wonder briefly if you’ve just sealed your own tomb. 

—

After dinner, you go upstairs to sleep after eating as much as they would offer you. Your stomach has ceased its constant growling and the shakiness that comes with hunger has receded almost entirely into the background. The bed is soft, with a slight dent in it from whoever slept in here before. The thought unsettles you that they’re probably dead now, but you try to push it from your mind as you steel yourself for what comes within the next few days. 

You had volunteered yourself to leave. To what? Save yourself the embarrassment of pleading? Did you even want to plead? Why are you regretting not asking to stay? These people don’t know you, what trust can you have built with them in only a few days? Your skin crawls at the expanse of possibilities in front of you after so many weeks without any. 

You think that if you let yourself walk away, you’ll probably die. You’re out of bullets and don’t know where to find any food except by luck. You can try to catch prey, but prey hides whenever infected are around, and they’re everywhere nowadays. It’s spring, water wouldn’t be a problem, but running water has its clear comforts. Then, there’s the possibility of loss. You’d come to care for these people if you stayed, you know it. 

You furrow your eyebrows and look at the ceiling. There’s really no choice to be made. You’ll let them make it for you, even if you don’t know them. It’s their house and you won’t walk in uninvited or try to take it. You’re not about to become a monster just because the world is full of them now.

The darkness grows and your eyes drift to the dim light wandering in under the crack of the door. Hushed voices whisper in the living room, you can hear them. It’s a heated discussion, lively, but deliberately quiet. It’s been hours since everyone went to bed, yet you get the impression that many people are chiming in. You’re too nosey to leave it be. 

You open the bedroom door silently, turning the cool knob with a wince as it clicks out of place. When you peer into the hallway, every upstairs bedroom door is open with the room empty. The light is coming from down stairs and around the corner, and you can see shadows move as you inch closer to the source. 

You pause at the top of the stairs, knowing that they creak, and crouch by the bannister to listen. You’re out of sight. The only way they’d know you’re listening is if you made a sound, but you won’t. You’re good at being quiet. 

“We don’t even know them,” someone says in a rushed whisper. “We don’t know what they’ve done before.” 

“Everyone’s done things they’re not proud of now, Shoto,” a woman adds. It’s Mina. She’s spoken enough to you that you recognize her voice. 

“I agree with Shoto,” says another woman, her voice higher pitched. She sounds guilty and her voice is tight as she speaks “We have no clue who they are. They could be dangerous.” 

“You mean like me, Ochako?” A man adds. “I could have been dangerous.” 

The group grows quiet for a moment. 

“No,” Momo says. You recognize the cadence of her voice. “Shoto might be right, Denki. It’s been nearly six months since you got here and the world has changed a lot. We don’t- we can’t know for sure.”

“Can we really know anything for sure?” Another man adds, Kiri.

“What about you guys?” Shoto says, presumably to the rest of the group. 

“I don’t know.”

“I’m hesitant, but I don’t know either.”  

“Jesus,” another man with a baritone voice, harsher than the rest. That’s Katsuki, the first voice you’d heard of the group. “You guys make me a little sick.” 

“That’s not fair,” Ochako says. 

“No,” he interrupts. “It is fair. You guys want to… what? Send them back out there to die?” 

“It’s not like that,” Shoto says.  

“It is like that,” he says, raising his voice and then lowering it back to a whisper. “You didn’t see them when they got here, Shoto. They- they didn’t look… shit. The rest of you, you saw them. You really want to send them back out there to fuckin’ waste away? I don’t know about you all, but I won’t do that to a person.” 

There’s a pregnant pause.

“Katsuki’s right,” Izuku says with a bit of conviction, like he’s finally made up his mind. “Sending someone out there alone is a death sentence. How does doing that make us any better than the people we’re trying to protect ourselves from?” 

“What if there are more of them?” Ochako says quietly. “What if they’re not alone?” 

“Trust me,” Katsuki says, “They were alone.” 

“But what if they’re not?” She insists at a whisper, a bit of shame creeping into her voice. “What if people come for us?” 

“See?” Shoto says gently. “There are so many what-ifs.” 

“That works the other way too,” Mina adds. 

You don’t listen to hear the rest of their conversation. They’re going to run themselves in circles debating about you. They’ll go around and around and land on whichever argument ends with the most votes. They’ll convince each other of one thing and it will happen totally out of your control. 

The bedroom door shuts with a low click that makes you wince again. You think about the people who went to bat for you and the people who didn’t. You don’t blame those who opposed. You’d have probably reacted similarly if your old group were still alive and you understand very clearly why they do it. One person’s stupid reaction can be catastrophic and they don’t know enough about you to be certain that you’re not one of those stupid people. It’s how the world went to shit in the first place and though nine months ago you’d have surely condemned someone for making the same decision, you know that fear has warped humanity beyond comprehension. You didn’t get it until you lived it. 

Still, Katsuki’s humanity feels intact somehow, more so than yours at least. His response is something you probably never would have said under the same conditions and you can’t help but feel some sort of fondness bloom in you for him. Call it connection, gratefulness for his willingness to stick his neck out for you, a trauma response. You still feel it. Mina and Kiri had said that Katsuki was a good judge of character and that’s why they were willing to back him. You wonder briefly if maybe Katsuki sees something in you that you don’t recognize in yourself anymore, or maybe something you don’t expect other people to recognize. What is it that he wants so badly to protect? 

Someone stomps down the hallway, heavy boots against the old creaky floors. You hear the steps recede down the hallway, maybe a door or two down, before it shuts quickly. The sound makes you wince and you listen as the house grows quiet and then hums quietly with the sound of others coming upstairs a few moments later. Someone pads to the end of the hall, pushing the door open. 

You hear a woman’s voice, so muffled that you can’t make out what she’s saying. Then, you hear the sound of a man’s affirmation before the bedroom door shuts and the visitor moves back down the hall to a separate bedroom. Information passing through the house. 

Someone is moving around in a room below you and you figure that there are probably bedrooms downstairs as well. From the outside, you’d never guess that the place could house ten people. Inside though, the bedrooms are small. That’s probably why so many can fit. You’d guess that the place used to have multiple generations living in it, or maybe even rented out rooms to people for a few months. It sort of has a boarding house feel to it, like many people have come and gone even before people stopped staying in one place. 

That’s a good thing to call it, the boarding house. It certainly has that sort of feel to it, many of its spaces undeniably communal. 

You turn over in the bed, facing the bedroom door. The lights have gone out completely now and the house is quiet save for the occasional creak or thud from someone preparing to sleep. It’s been a long while since the sounds of living have been so prevalent near you. You’re eased by the sounds of the house settling, a familiar reminder of what living used to be. Your group had been on the road long before you lost them and the comforts of an interior are almost overwhelmingly nostalgic. You’re better rested to notice it now and shutting your eyes, you savor the feeling. 

—

“Need some help?” You say. 

Denki turns around, grease smeared across his nose where he likely wiped it with his dirty hands. He’s holding a wrench in a glove so tattered that it hardly counts as a glove anymore. He looks startled, amber eyes widening before he uses his forearm to brush stray hairs out of his face. The rest of it is pulled up into a messy ponytail, revealing the moist back of his neck. 

“Oh, sure,” he says, a bit surprised. “Do you know how generators work?” 

He crouches back over the machine and you step up behind him. 

The machine is rusted near the bottom and between the exposed winding pipes. Its paint has chipped away, leaving the weather-damaged metal open for you to see. On the side, a fan-like piece spins slowly in circles and the machine whirs and sputters softly as it… generates power, probably. 

“Not quite, but an extra pair of hands is always helpful,” you say softly, passing him a tool he’d been reaching for. “Did it break?” 

“No,” Denki says, “but it’s probably on its last legs. The thing’s almost as old as we are, probably older, so it’s good to tune it up a bunch.” 

You hum your agreement, tilting your head as you stand and watch him work. 

You’re not necessarily comfortable with Denki, but he feels like a safe person for some reason. Maybe it’s because he’s got a sort of ditzy, non-threatening vibe to him. You can almost distinctly picture him tripping over his own feet and something about that makes you feel considerably safer than someone who wouldn’t. That and he was the first person you’ve come across this morning who you don’t think distrusts you too badly. 

“Are you dodging something?” Denki smirks up at you from his crouch. 

“Who on earth would I be dodging?” you snort a bit defensively. 

“Shoto,” he says with a light smile. “He put you in a tight spot the other day.” 

“Yeah, well,” you say, glancing over your shoulder. “It wasn’t anything he didn’t have a right to ask.” 

“Right, but it sure was rude, huh?” 

Denki laughs to himself a little and you’re surprised by how easygoing he is. You subconsciously begin to categorize him with Mina and Kiri. The dichotomy of this group baffles you a bit, but you can certainly see all nine of them as a collective. Tightly knit and well acquainted with the habits of others. 

“Oh!” He exclaims, “I have something you can do for me.” 

You tilt your head. 

“There’s a bucket over there,” he says, pointing absentmindedly to a shitty plastic bucket against the side of the house. “We use the water from the creek as coolant. It’s not factory grade, but it does the trick. You wanna go fill it up and bring it back for when I’m done tuning this thing up?” 

You furrow your eyebrows, not sure where the creek he’s talking about is. 

“The creek is just over there,” he points behind the house to the edge of the treeline. “I know you can’t see it from here, but if you walk in a straight line, you’ll hit it. Katsuki should be down there too, so you can use him as a landmark.” 

When you don’t immediately answer, Denki whines a little. 

“I mean,” he says, “I’d go myself, but-” 

“I’ll do it,” you laugh a little and Denki seems surprised that you do. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah,” you shrug. “I’d like to pull some weight at least while I’m here. Plus, I offered.” 

Denki mumbles his pleasure and you walk to the bucket without another word and set off in the direction Denki pointed. You’re much more willing to go out to the treeline now that you have a knife back at your side. 

The walk to the trees is longer than it looks, like how sometimes the horizon looks like something you could reach out and climb up onto. The walk stretches with each step you take and you become a little more understanding of why Denki didn’t want to do it himself. But the walk is actually pleasant, the warmth of mid May collecting evenly on your skin as the humidity grows more intense with the sun. 

You wonder what Katsuki would be doing by the creek. Maybe he’s fishing, or crouched over himself sharpening an arsenal of knives that you think he might keep in a roll attached to his belt sometimes. You’re not sure why, but Katsuki sort of has that expression to him. He’s handsome, but the scowl projects something hostile that makes him seem unapproachable. 

As you cross through the middle of the clearing, you could almost imagine that this is a normal day. Humidity collects on your skin, making you sweat a little as you dodge gopher holes and soft spots of dirt. It almost feels like summer camp, if it weren’t for the looming idea that you’re contributing to something you may not be a part of. Denki’s attitude though, has you hoping for a more favorable outcome, if you want to call it that. 

You’re only a few steps into the line of trees when the earth dips into a sand-lined ravine. The trees leave room for the sun to beat down on warmed rocks, making the area seem brighter with their subtle reflection of the light. The noise of the creek drowns out the sound of your footsteps and you shuffle toward where the earth flattens just before the water starts. A little ways to your right, you can see Katsuki sitting on a rock in the sun, his hands dipped into a large bucket. You narrow your eyes as he pulls what looks like a cloth out of the water, rubbing the fabric together before dipping it in the cool water of the creek.

As you approach, you realize what it is that he’s doing. It’s laundry. On the other side of him, you can see a bin of what look like dirty clothes and water-soaked clean ones. Talk about misjudged character. 

“Katsuki,” you say as you approach him, the bucket still empty in your hand.

He squints up at you, shifting his face so that it's in your shadow. 

“You’re still here,” he says plainly, returning to his task. 

“Clearly,” you respond, watching as he runs his fingers over the next piece of clothing in the bucket. 

“Why are you down here? Did Denki pawn the generator water onto you?” He says, like he’s somewhat frustrated. “He does that shit to anyone he can.” 

You shrug your shoulders and continue to stare at him. 

“Are you just gonna stand there?” He huffs out. 

“You’re doing laundry.” 

“Yeah?” he furrows his eyebrows and looks at you. “So?” 

“Nothing,” you say. “I just didn’t expect that.” 

“Yeah well,” he stops for a moment like he’s struggling to find the words. “It needed to be done. Figured I might as well.” 

“How progressive of you,” you joke with a straight face. 

He looks at you out of the corner of his eyes and sighs, not justifying your comment with a response. You find yourself smiling a little bit. 

“If you’re going to linger, sit down and do it,” he says. “You’re creeping me out.” 

You oblige him and sit down on a rock next to him, far enough that you’re not touching, but near enough to hear him if you speak in a low voice. For some reason, you feel a sort of kinship with Katsuki. You’d thought longer than you’d like to admit about his willingness to vouch for you and find that you want to live up to his expectation of your goodness, even if it’s not what you believe yourself to be anymore. Maybe it’s because you’ve slept well the past few nights and feel more like yourself, but there’s a certain casualness to conversing with him that you enjoy. He’s not looking at what you could be, but rather what you’re showing him that you are. His lack of doubt in that is something you find relatively attractive. 

You watch his arms out of the corner of your eye in between gazing at the treeline and the sky. Your field of vision catches on them, his sleeves cut short to expose his biceps, a bit muddied near the elbows where the mud has begun to stick. 

Katsuki doesn’t seem all that bothered by your presence, but now and then you’ll catch the sideways glance he gives you, almost like he’s trying to figure out exactly why you’re lingering. 

“How long have you been with them?” You ask, more as a way to fill the silence. 

Katsuki’s hands pause as he thinks about answering, then, they continue their steady pace. 

“A decent amount of time,” he says. “I met Izuku first, probably in November just before Mina and Kiri. The rest came later.” 

You furrow your eyebrows. 

“No offense,” you start, “but you don’t really seem like the group type.” 

“And you don’t seem like the type who’d be alone,” he retorts, like your statement was stupid. 

You press your lips into a tight line, not really knowing how to respond. 

“Sorry,” he says, shaking his head a little. 

“Were you?” 

“What? Was I sorry?” He furrows his eyebrows at you. 

“No,” you shake your head. “Were you alone? Before Izuku.” 

He goes silent. You’ll take that as a yes, but you regret asking a little. It had just slipped out. If someone were to ask you something like that, you’d probably react the same way. That’s just as well, you don’t really need to know him like that anyway. 

You wonder briefly if anyone does. He seems closed off, but Mina and Kiri spoke about him a few days prior like they knew him well. Well enough at least to allude to a history you’ll likely never be privy to. Then there’s Momo, who whispers little things to him that he answers in kind. Curiosity gets the better of you, if only to tease. 

“Do you have a girlfriend?” you ask and Katsuki’s response is to rest his elbows on his knees and let out a dry laugh. 

He turns his head and looks at you from the side. “And what the fuck are you asking me that for?” 

“Just curious,” you say. “Is it Momo?” 

“Momo?” He makes a sour face at you. “Yeah, right.” 

“She’s pretty,” you say. 

“Sure is,” he responds dryly. “If you’re into the mom type.” 

“What? You’re not into moms?” You grin a little and Katsuki furrows his eyebrows at you. 

“So you do have a personality,” he scoffs a little. 

There’s a pause. You haven’t felt this in a while. The feeling of bonding with someone new, compatibility on the human level that feels nearly instant. 

“I’m kinda serious though,” you say, tilting your head down to catch his eye. “Do you?” 

You’re leaning a little closer to him now.

“You seen any nice restaurants to take a person out to these days?” he questions, clearly a little frustrated with you in the way someone gets when they’re a bit amused. 

“You don’t have to take someone out to a restaurant to fuck them, you know?” You laugh a little. 

Katsuki’s lips part and he swallows like his mouth has gone dry. 

“Yeah, well,” he starts, looking away from you. “I’m a romantic. Sue me.” 

He’s just full of surprises, isn’t he? You find that you’re captivated by this feeling, this humanity, that exists in him. It’s something alive between you both, something left behind from the old world, and you crave it the same way you crave food. 

Katsuki continues scrubbing the clothes, rubbing the fabric together and then dunking it in the bucket before plunging it into the freshwater creek. You’re not sure why you do it, but the next time he looks at you, you kiss him. 

It’s not as if you like him, but it’s something to feel. Some remnant of the butterflies you used to feel on dates and the kiss makes you feel like you could be close to human again. You pull away almost as soon as you put his lips to yours and you can tell that the expression on your face is one of surprise.

Katsuki blinks for a second, looking at you with his brows knitted together. The expression doesn’t leave him as he places a wet hand on the side of your face to kiss you again. It’s an anxious kiss, confused and slow but—like someone riding a bike for the first time in years—it quickly becomes something familiar. Muscle memory that you both let yourselves sink into. 

You can feel his expression as he kisses you, something between confusion and desire, like his own actions are perplexing. You feel the same way, hesitant, but reaching in the dark for the promise of some sort of normalcy. You want to feel like a person again. You haven’t felt it in so long and you push yourself against him as the ache swells in you. 

The two of you continue like this for a moment, Katsuki’s fingers pressing lightly into the skin of your neck. You moan softly as his tongue slips into your mouth, taking a sharp inhale at the sensation of skin on skin. The sound of the creek drowns out the clicking of your mouths, but you can feel the way he hums into your mouth. They’re little sounds, involuntary ones driven by the nervous, desirous feelings inside of you both. 

Then, Katsuki pulls away, swallowing thick as he takes his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment. You appreciate the way they look. They’re swollen, anxious to continue and keep forgetting where you really are. He drops his hand from your face with a sigh and almost seems like he comes back to himself. You do the same, moving back into an upright position. 

“Denki will want that water soon,” he clears his throat and motions to the empty bucket by your feet. 

“Oh,” you say, laughing a little. “Right.” 

You stand, dusting off the back of your pants and dunking the bucket into the water. It sloshes, the liquid hitting the back of the plastic with a satisfying elastic sound. You begin to walk away without another word, heading down the way you came to climb up the gentler part of the slope. 

“Hey,” Katsuki calls softly. “You should stay. We talked it over last night. You can if you want to.” 

The last part, he says facing the wash, his hands moving as if he hadn’t said anything at all. You don’t respond, knowing that the obvious answer is already yes. 

Dread settles in your stomach. It’s an icky, swirling feeling that threatens to make you double over. You climb up the bank, the water in the bucket sloshing as you move through the trees and enter the clearing. The feeling doesn’t dissipate, growing as you leave the cover of the trees. You probably wouldn’t have kissed him if he’d asked you that earlier. 

The boarding house comes into view and you can see Denki sitting beside the generator, conversing with who appears to be Shoto. They turn and Denki waves you down, Shoto turning away and starting around for the front of the house. 

Denki jogs to meet you, taking the bucket from your hand. You flex your fingers as the weight is removed, wincing a little at how stiff they feel. 

“Jeez, what took you so long?” Denki laughs and with your new information, you understand his willingness to be friendly with you a little better. 

“I asked Katsuki for his life story,” you respond dryly, following him back to the generator. 

Denki looks over his shoulder and laughs at you. “Did he tell you?” 

You pause for a moment, watching as Denki unscrews something and pours the water in. 

“Nope,” you say. “Not a thing.”

Click Here to go to the second chapter and find the rest of the series on ao3. The remainder will not be posted on tumlbr, but please feel free to reblog!

[81folklore]

older - CL16

pairings: charles leclerc x male!singer!reader (fc: luke hemmings)

summary: singer yn ln releases a love song with his boyfriend, and the public are not prepared for who it is about

authors note: this has been on my mind for SO LONG. i honestly dont like how many fics ive been doing on the same people (charles, lando etc) but whenever i go to start a new one on my list for someone else i think of something that i have to do😭 also in this reader is not a part of 5sos but close friends with the 3, wfttwtaf is readers album and older is exclusivly the readers song

authors note 2: i wanted to quickly clarify i am NOT speculating that charles or luke are gay/queer and this is not my intentions. luke obviously sings older and i find it easier to visualise it this way, while the reader in this is male, this could also be read as gn!reader. this is FICTION please do not tkae this as me speculating anything

authors note 3: i didnt really know what i was doing with this so its kind of all over the place and very rushed :/ but then again when arent my smau all over the place?? also can you tell i hate writing comments by the way i just dont😭

masterlist

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, ashtonirwin and 818,937 others

we started this song together back in 2020 and picked it back up at the end of 2022

'Older' was originally a voice memo of a 50’s-style love song that we wrote together, then forgot about. when thinking of concepts for my debut album i stumbled across the memo and fell in love with it all over again, but i put it aside yet again as to me, it deserved more than the album

the song has changed a lot from the original voice memo, but the meaning has stayed the same throughout. despite all the beauty, the ups and downs of a long-term relationship over many years, there’s inevitably going to be the worst moment of your love because one of you is going to lose each other

capturing those feelings in a song was tricky but ultimately we wrote from the heart and i think it shows in the song itself

this has always been a song between us, so having him play on this song was very importnt to me and im glad he said yes

older is now yours

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yourusername

liked by landonorris, calumhood and 1,727,338 others

im very pleased to announce a very special one off show at the Royal Albert Hall in London this November 18th. I will be playing a bunch of tracks from my debut album and may be joined to play some others aswell! Tickets on sale this monday at 10 am BST. Lots of love always, yn x

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yourusername

liked by 5sos, charles_leclerc and 2,719,936 others

thank you for an incredible night at the royal albert hall

looking back at the best night of my life, i need to thank each and every one of you who allowed this dream to come true, i will never be able to thank you guys enough

performing in my dream venue, with my favorite people in the world was something i never thought was possible and yet here i am, writing this still on my high from last night

thank you to my friends; michael, ashton and calum who took the time to come to london and perform their songs with me, thank you for always loving me and agreeing to my crazy ideas

to my team and everyone who worked to make this night as special as it could be, thank you. thank you for making my htoughts a reality and making this night as wonderful as possible

thank you to the staff who worked throughout the show to make sure everyone was safe, well and looked after. you truly do not get as much credit as you deserve and i apreciate the hard work you put in to keep everyone happy

thank you to those who joined me, i wish each and every one of you who wanted to could have been there. thank you for singing along and listening to me pour my heart and soul into my music

thank you for letting me do this x

view comments

user55: not the pcd hitting already☹️

user1: and im supposed to pretend i didnt see yn and 5sos perform os/co??

user89: CHARLES?? YN IS DATING CHARLES??

user91: AND HE CAME ON STAGE?? AND THEY PERFORMED OLDER??

user50: i cant believe i saw this all happen live

user47: THANK YOU TO WHOEVER WAS RUNING THE GRAINY LIVESTREAM I OWE YOU MY LIFE🧎🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️

ashtonirwin: thank you for everything yn. youre a real life angel

user16: NO CHARLES MENTION??

user9: BESTIE HE HAS A WHOLE POST

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly, michaelclifford and 3,619,273 others

after having time to process this show, I feel so overcome with gratefulness. my music means so much to me and seeing so many people resonate with it in a live space was so special for me.

charlie, my life would literally fall apart without you and this would have never happened without you giving me the confidence to do so, i hold so much love and admiration for you

thank you for joining me on such a special night and performing our song with me, thank you for sticking with me through it all and thank you for allowing me to share this part of my life with you

i sometimes wonder where i would be if i didnt find you, if i wasnt blessed with your love. i try to think about the times before you, before us, but both feel impossible to do after feeling your love

life with you is so special and i promise to always cherish and love you

merci de m'avoir laissé vieillir avec toi, merci de m'avoir laissé t'adorer, merci de m'avoir choisi (thank you for letting me get old with you, thank you for letting me adore you, thank you for choosing me)

yn x

tagged: charles_leclerc

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charles_leclerc: mon ange, je t'aimerai toujours (my angel, I will always love you)

charles_leclerc: je suis tellement privilégiée d'être celle que tu aimes🤍🤍 (I'm so privileged to be the one you love)

yourusername: vieillir avec toi ne semble pas si effrayant🖤🖤 (growing old with you doesn't seem so scary)

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if i abandoned my current house, without warning my landlord at all?

🐌 🎉 (to find my post)

I (22, m) am a university student, currently studying medicine in a big city. I've struggled for a long time to find an apartment to live in, and the only seemingly decent place i could find was an arrangement where id have to live with my landlord (71, f) lets call her Alex. She is a middle aged woman and she is disabled, suffering from various conditions (including an autoimmune disease), resulting in her almost never leaving the house.

At first, Alex seemed like a standard middle aged lady. But my god, living with her has been a fucking nightmare.

There are a whole sleuth of issues, but the main one is her extreme anger. She told me stories about how she was from a very wealthy family, but then "something happened" and now her and her family are full of debt (from what i could understand they have to pay about a million euros in legal fees).

Any time she receives a phone call from a lawyer/attorney/whatever else (something that happens at least once every 2 days), she completely loses her mind, screaming about how she wishes everyone would die because life is meaningless.

One particularly nasty episode was when i was minding my business, cooking dinner, when she burst into the kitchen, clearly very upset, screaming and shouting about how she wished more people would die in horrible ways, getting mad at me when i said that wishing death on random people wasnt very nice. She even lashed out at me the day of my birthday.

I would consider myself a pretty adaptive person, but i cant keep on going like this. So i have come up with a plan. Since I haven't signed any contract and since i already have another place to stay, i have decided that one night, at the end of the month, i will simply pack my bags and leave, without any warning. I will block her on all platforms and pretend she never existed.

This will put her in quite a bit of financial trouble. She told me most of my rent goes into paying her legal fees and, without me around, im not sure how she will get things done.

WIBTA? Is leaving a selfish choice? I understand living with an autoimmune disease can be really tough, but i dont think i can deal with her violent outbursts anymore.

What are these acronyms?

[yanderambling]

OMG IM SO GLAD YOUR DOING THESSE!!!!! Can I please please get Aschanti (submissive royal) with F I M and S??❤️❤️Thank you so much for writing!!!

yandere alphabet ~ Aschanti

(submissive monarch!yan x pining knight!reader)

full alphabet here <3

Fight [How would they feel if their darling fought back?]:

Aschanti would immediately cave to any resistance you showed them, unless they felt they were at some risk of losing you completely. In the event that they were forced to keep you against your will, Aschanti would never raise a hand back to you in violence- they probably wouldn’t even try to defend themself. Even if you hit, kicked, and spat insults at them, Aschanti is certain that you’ll come to understand in time, and so they will meet all of your offenses with nothing but gentle placations and a patient smile. They would keep you away from any deadly weapons out of necessity, and if you proved persistent then they would reluctantly promote a temporary personal guard, just to keep them alive long enough for you to realize how you really feel for them. It would break their heart to see you so upset, but Aschanti would gladly let you take out your frustration on them as much as you needed.

Ideals [What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?]:

Aschanti rarely lets themself dream that far into the future, so certain are they that you could never return their affections the same way. But, when they allow their mind to wander, Aschanti fantasizes about leaving it all behind with you, just abandoning the courts and royal obligations and taking to the country with just your hand in theirs. They find guilty pleasure in the thought of becoming your housewife, taking care of you and your shared home by serving you, and letting you care for them in turn by telling them what to do, how to be. Maybe, one day, Aschanti could cook your meals (and pretend they’re your live-in servant), do you laundry (and get to sniff and taste your clothes whenever they want), and even help you wash your magnificent body (need they go on?)<3

Mask [Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?]:

Aschanti wears a couple of masks, even around you. In public, they are remarkably composed and confident, they are widely renowned for their poise and natural leadership. But, when it’s just them and you, they find it harder to keep their cool, they become notably more uncertain and deferential, more open about looking to you for direction- but they still try to maintain a regal air about them so as to not lose your respect. On their own, however, Aschanti is nearly unrecognizable from the esteemed ruler known throughout the land. They spend most of their alone time thinking about you, taking stock of their collection of your things, touching themself to the scent of you lingering on the clothes they practically smother themself with- they’re really just a needy mess when there’s nobody around to impress, and they feel no small amount of shame from their desire to show themself to you like this and let you do as you like with them…

Stigma [What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?]:

Aschanti has always felt they were forced to take positions of authority because of their royal status, but they’d always really wanted to just let go and leave the control to someone else; you’re the first person they ever felt safe enough to even entertain the idea with. Before you, they never let themself dream of giving up their control as they so deeply wished, but once they’d been in your capable hands it became impossible to stop. Really, you’re the reason they’re like this, so obsessed with retaining the stability and comfort you provide them. You just make them feel so safe and secure, so wholly taken care of- it’s a feeling they’ve always craved, and you’re the only thing in the world that has ever sated them~

thanks so much for reading! feel free to send a request <3

check my pinned post~

[stomach-bugg09]

omg thank you for doing my request!!! i absolutely adored it, dw im from the east coast myself (new york specifically). if it’s okay, i’d like to request more modern day sullys and fali? i just love your take on them.

a/n: ahh !! thank you so much. ( east coast gang rising up !! ) anyway , yes i actually think the modern au is just so simple but so cute and fun to write , which is also why i'm publishing this request before some of the older ones. i want to be able to keep feeding you all while i develop ideas and fics for the other ones. hope you enjoy !! reblogs + feedback is always appreciated !!

tags: @liyahsocorro @bonnibuckets @wxnderingthoughts @pinkhotdogsfr

modern au headcanons for the sullys + fali

general

one of the most chaotic families out there

trust me when i say this

when any of the kids have friends over, the guests are always shocked to find out that they ever manage to get anything done

there's always someone being a problem ( lo'ak )

tuk is the "do it all" child

like soccer, lacrosse, dance, school plays + musicals

she totally ate as an oompa loompa in charlie and the chocolate factory jr.

the older siblings all took a picture with her while she was in costume

[y/n] has an epic 0.5x picture of her from that night and is saving it for her graduation

[y/n] has the most baby pictures and "baby's first christmas" ornaments / type stuff just because she was the first child

neteyam has a good bit, so does kiri, but lo'ak and tuk have barely any

you can tell that they gave up on parenting tuk because she's such a menace

the whole entire family is banned from pizza hut

they refuse to speak on the topic

after neteyam and lo'ak played jv basketball together, kiri and [y/n] worked together to rewatch all the film and make a compilation of all their funny moments

tbt to when lo'ak completely missed the basket during a free throw

to present it, they gathered the entire family into the living room and pretended it was serious

but as soon as the video started, the two girls could not hold up the act and ended up on the ground in tears as they laughed at the entire thing

lo'ak and neteyam were not amused

jake was totally losing his mind

he loves making fun of his kids ( affectionately )

you can always tell neytiri's mood based on what she's listening to when she cooks dinner

a podcast means she's feeling good, feeling productive - sad music means she's, well... sad - classical music means you must stay far away from her

kiri, [y/n], and neytiri have their periods sinked up

it's complete hell for everyone else

once jake came home from work late and saw them sobbing on the couch to an episode of how i met your mother

sometimes the siblings will all sit down and have tuk paint their nails as she just talks the most amount of shit about every kid in her class

it's literally the funniest thing

she has some serious issues

kiri and [y/n] both like reading but the difference between the two is that kiri actually reads and [y/n] has five different books sitting on her bedside table

when she does have a random burst of energy to read, they always swap books

the head boys lacrosse coach is the biology teacher and he loves the sully family

he also teaches forensic science

not only is [y/n] dating his star player, but she manages the team

plus neteyam is on his team

sometimes, during their lunch period, fali and [y/n] just roll up to his class ( the same period that lo'ak and tsireya have bio )

ao'nung also plays basketball, so him and lo'ak were literally always beefing until they randomly just became friends

and then it was chill!

[y/n] and fali also drive tsireya and ao'nung around quite a bit, but they don't mind

everybody trusts fali and [y/n]

they're the type of people that you call if you need anything ever

kiri and neteyam have definitely called their sister or fali during a party after realizing they needed to get home

once neteyam's old friends left him there with no ride and he was... not all that sober

fali was at the same party because lacrosse team!

this boy did not hesitate to leave with neteyam and bring him back to his house

neteyam called his parents and pretended he was sleeping over with ao'nung ( who helped cover for him ) and ended up sleeping in fali's guest bedroom

every day kiri collects random ideas for her future speech as [y/n]'s maid of honor at her and fali's wedding

[y/n] still doesn't know

neteyam has an entire shoebox full of memories with his big sister that he plans to give her before she moves out

panic ensues the household when they reach june / graduating month

they do not want to think about their first baby leaving the nest!

neytiri is such a sad frantic mama

just wants everything to be perfect for her baby

jake ensures her that it will be

moving on to more happy stuff!

neytiri is totally a swiftie

like a very serious very loyal swift or that knows every single song and every single album and every single word

owns her ugly merch but it's okay because it makes her happy

tsireya's favorite candy would be watermelon jolly ranchers and she always has them in her backpack and stuff

lo'ak started to also keep watermelon flavored things in his backpack when he first started crushing on her

he would give her some during bio

her smile was always worth it

[y/n] and fali have the cheesiest and cutest way of reminding each other that they love each other

and that would be by giving each other their last piece of something

like they would give each other their last oreo, their last piece of gum, their last hershey kiss, his last name

it's just a silent exchange of their infatuation for each other

everybody else watches as they contemplate leaving because of how lonely they make them feel

kiri makes the silliest birthday posts

like she absolutely exposes every single one of her siblings by posting their ugly pictures on her instagram story

and she isn't even nice enough to keep it on close friends

lo'ak and [y/n] have a super long streak on snap chat of like 600+ days

and they are constantly scared of losing it

tuk takeover happens on a rare occasion in which, every few months, one of her older siblings allows her to do their streaks

she usually manages to post something stupid on their stories or something, but all of their friends have learned to look forward to it

fali and [y/n] were friends for a year before dating, but half of that year was spent with them absolutely crushing on each other

their first kiss story is so embarrassing and they refuse to tell anyone about it

fali wears bracelets that [y/n] makes for him

he always wears the bracelets that tuk makes for him and they're the cutest things because it's just a random assortment of beads

fali probably has a like single piercing on one of his ears after losing a bet with his friends

but he's grown to love it

he always has to take it out for lacrosse because the helmet is a pain

[y/n] buys him cute little earrings that he refuses to wear because they're always silly

like, "no, [y/n] i'm not wearing a singular waffle earring."

the only earring from her that he wears is the earring that matches the ring he gave her on their one year anniversary

she gave him that earring for his birthday

he almost cried

[heliads]

Hello hello! Congratulations on 5k and sorry if im late with this request but can i ask for a finnick fic with prompts 3,17,25 and if possible also a newt fic with the same prompts? Thank you very much! 💓

newt req will come out in a few days, here's finnick!

masterlist

You don’t think you ever noticed just how quiet it gets in the Capitol until right about now. It’s always been loud around here. The buildings are filled to the brim with chattering elites, so many packed in side by side that they’re occasionally disgorged to the balconies, the windows, the roof so that more can fit in. 

If you’re not with your mentor or fellow tributes, you’re displayed for show in front of the cameras. If you’re not panicking to the point of shutdown over the thought that you only have a few weeks until the Hunger Games begin and your life ends, you pretend that you have never known fear in your life, and bat your eyes at the interviewers until you think your lids might be weighted down with iron for all their aching burden in keeping you awake.

But now, midnight in the pristine halls of the tributes’ quarters, there is nothing. No whir of ancient lights, no creaking or groaning as beleaguered cooling systems try their hardest to convince you that you might feel something other than endless waves of heat. You suppose that has to do with the fact that the Capitol is richly furnished and would never have to deal with aged machinery, but you’re too far gone on old habits to ever fully make the remembrance stick.

There are guards posted somewhere around here, but they keep their presence to themselves. No Avoxes can be seen lurking in the shadows, but you have no doubt that they’re here somewhere, letting their eyes run wild with sights that their mouths can no longer hope to express.

All living things decide to leave you be on this night of nights. It must be tradition to not mess with the sacrificial lambs until they’re needed for further entertainment in the Arena, or maybe everyone else is out getting drunk on honeyed wine and spirits until they can’t remember how horrifying it is to send twenty-four souls to their deaths every year.

You’ve only been in the Capitol for a few days, so the layout of the buildings is still somewhat foreign to you. You wonder if you could wander down here forever, stuck in a whitewashed maze that will never let you out. No sound, none but your footsteps. No sights, none but the seeming same four walls. It is enough to drive anyone mad. You would not be the first.

When you first hear a sound echoing through the sterile halls, you wonder if it’s already started, the madness. Your mind could at least be polite and wait until the first moment you have to murder someone in the Games to lose itself, but it appears you won’t have that kindness quite yet.

The sound comes again, and you’ve just decided that no, you’re not mad, there actually was something there, when someone swings out of an open door to your side and comes to a sudden stop in front of you.

You stare at the boy in front of you with exhausted exasperation. “From the bottom of my heart, what the fuck. There was no reason to do that.”

The boy’s delighted grin falls in a flash. “You’re not supposed to react like that. Can you at least pretend to be a little frightened? I thought that was the whole point of a jumpscare.”

You snort. “You know, for a jump scare to work you have to actually be scary. Not just disappointingly cavalier in your methods of introducing yourself to strangers.”

The boy quirks a brow. “Is that what we’re doing? Introducing each other?”

“Well,” you reply, “seeing as you just came out of nowhere and I have absolutely nothing better to do, we might as well.”

The boy groans, the sound so rich with melodrama that it could have come straight from the stained lips of Caesar Flickerman. “You know, most people are usually far more excited to talk to me. I suppose just ‘nothing better to do’ will suffice for now, but I hope you’ll come to think of me far more favorably. I’m–”

You cut him off. “Finnick.”

The boy’s teeth flash again, as bright a white as the immaculate halls of the Capitol complex surrounding you. “So you do know who I am!”

It’s hard not to know who he is, but it’s not as if you’re about to say that to his face. Finnick Odair seems to suffer from a grievous overabundance of confidence, and you doubt his ego could use any extra boost from you. Of course, one would have to consider the fact that he’s out here wandering the halls at midnight just the same as you, which would raise the questions of what could keep him from sleep for so long, but that’s beside the point.

“I do know who you are,” you hedge, “A lot of information has been forced on me unwillingly.”

Finnick tilts his head back and laughs. “Unwillingly? I think I’m hurt.”

“Wonderful,” you say crisply, “Well, it was nice to meet you. I hope you don’t die a gruesome death once we get into the arena.”

You turn and continue your walk down the passage. To your surprise, Finnick jogs to catch up with you, his long strides allowing him to easily keep pace with you.

“Oh, you didn’t think you’d be rid of me that quickly, did you?” He asks brightly.

“I had hopes,” you mutter, “I assume I was wrong to harbor anything of the sort?”

“Precisely right,” Finnick grins, hands in his pockets as if the two of you were old friends out for a casual stroll. “It’s not like either of us have anything better to do, as you so wonderfully pointed out, so we might as well get to know each other.”

“Why?” You ask, unwilling to budge even an inch in your hostility. Finnick is your rival tribute and thus your enemy. You cannot afford to make friends out of people who are wishing for your death with every word they speak.

“Because I adore your charming personality, obviously,” Finnick says. “Actually, I’m sick to death of everyone pretending that all is well, and the fact that you don’t is a breath of fresh air. I might be developing an early case of cynicism.”

You turn to him questioning, but Finnick’s cheerful demeanor doesn’t change. For the first time, you wonder if you might have misjudged him. Perhaps Finnick isn’t a silly flirt but the best actor you’ve ever met.

“Well,” you say carefully, “if you’re in the mood for cynicism, I’ve got a lot right here.”

“Perfect,” Finnick responds happily. He meets your gaze at last and flashes you a wink. “I have a feeling we’re going to get along just fine.”

You hold his stare for a second longer, then break into incredulous laughter. “I take it back. You’re absolutely insane.”

Finnick grins as well. “Then we’ll have even more fun. Will you join me in being mad, Y/N L/N? If we only have a few weeks together, I want to spend all of it engaging in as much tomfoolery as possible.”

He offers you a hand with a mock bow and flourish, the gentleman. You chuckle and take the accepted palm. “I would like nothing more.”

Finnick straightens up and, grabbing your hand, begins to sprint down the hallways, all but dragging you after him. You run beside him, tearing down the identical corridors as fast as you can.

“Where are we going?” You shout over the thunder of your footsteps, “And what on Earth are you doing?”

“No idea,” Finnick calls back delightedly, “No idea at all.”

A laugh starts to build in your chest, so free of stress and fear that you almost don’t recognize it as your own. You haven’t laughed like that in quite some time, and it takes that last bit of terror clean out of you. Forget the cameras, the interviewers, every citizen in this twisted Capitol who wants to see you dead. You laugh at the lot of them.

Thus begins what might be the best thing to ever happen to you. What had once been a place of nothing but paranoia becomes host to your best friend, the one person you look to when all else breaks down. Finnick meets you most nights; neither of you can sleep, neither of you bring it up. 

Instead, you explore every inch of the place, memorizing how the city looks from the roof and which doors lead where. Some handles turn out locked, some knobs won’t open no matter how many times Finnick jokingly slams his body against them. You get lost so many times you think you might have accidentally ended up in one of the districts, and just as you lose all hope of ever seeing your bed again, you and Finnick take a turn and come back right where you started.

You don’t think you’ve ever laughed harder or more often than when you are with this golden boy. Who gives a damn about the Hunger Games at this point, it’s going to happen and there is nothing you can do about it anymore. What you can do is make your days worthwhile, and that is precisely what you mean to accomplish.

You and Finnick delight in confusing the interviewers as much as possible. You start speaking in cryptic riddles whenever you’re recorded, and the Capitol practically tears itself to shreds trying to figure out your hidden meanings. Finnick busts out some poetry about a long gone lover, which the two of you had carved out the night before after he got the idea at one in the morning.

This is living, you decide. It’s funny that you would only realize it so close to dying, but this is the best time you have ever had and the thought of your imminent demise is secondary to the fact that you get this right here, right now.

As the days tick down to the Hunger Games, you try to push the intrusive fears from your mind as much as possible. You almost succeed, too, until the night before the Games hits and then you’re reeling in your own head.

You try to get some sleep, at least to help keep your body strong for tomorrow as much as anything else, but you just can’t manage it. At last, when you can take it no longer, you crawl out of bed and pad across the room to leave. Just as you swing open the door, the figure on the other side raises his hand to knock. You and Finnick, on the same wavelength yet again.

He doesn’t even have to ask, you nod and let him in without a single word exchanged. Finnick slumps into a heap on the edge of your bed, knee pulled up to his chest.

“What are we supposed to do, Y/N?” He asks quietly, voice half obscured in his tangled mess of limbs, “There’s only one victor. Somehow, one of us won’t make it out.”

“I know,” you whisper, and you feel the sheer agony of a thousand moments slip out with it, “I know.”

Finnick looks at you beseechingly, and you take a seat on the bed next to him. Finnick stretches out an arm and pulls you close to him, your head resting against his shoulder.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he says.

You look over at him. How many times have you been lost in those eyes now? How few times you have left. Maybe if you’re lucky you’ll get to witness this sight one more time before you die.

“We knew this day was coming all along,” you remind him, “there’s nothing we can do about it. We’re going to get through this night, and then we’re going to worry about ourselves. You keep yourself alive and I’ll work on myself. That’s how it’s going to work.”

Finnick nods mechanically. “So this is the last night we have for us.” His gaze turns twisted and fierce. “I need something from you.”

“Anything,” you promise rashly. You don’t take back the words, even knowing what he could ask as a rival tribute. If he asked you to fall on your sword tomorrow, you would do it with a smile.

Finnick lets out a gasping sort of breath. “Tell me you love me. I need to hear it just the once. Lie to me if you have to, make it all up, but I need to hear it. Let me pretend that I might not be alone in this.”

You can feel your heart drop through the floor. “What?”

Finnick’s gaze is an endless whirlpool of sea green. “I want to fool myself into thinking that I  might have met someone in this world who could need me as much as I need you. Say it once, and I’ll go to a happy death. Just say it.”

You reach out and take his hand, squeezing it against yours. “I don’t need to lie, Finnick. I love you. I love the fact that you make me feel so alive that the thought of dying in the Games doesn’t seem real. I love that you have never given up on me. I love that you’re the only one here I would be content with missing me.”

Finnick’s breath constricts in his lungs, and then he’s leaning over and kissing you like you’ve never been kissed before. Every other kiss before this was nothing, nothing to this at all. You have never felt a love like this, and perhaps you never will. All will come to be undone in the Games, but this moment will never be taken from you. You can carry this kiss into death like a talisman, and it will protect you for all eternity. No shield has ever tasted so sweet.

hunger games tag list: @w1shes43

[dearreader]

royai is just like “we can’t make any promises now can we babe/but you can make me a drink” and “sometimes when i look into your eyes/ i pretend your mind/ all the damn time” and “i don’t like that anyone would die to feel your touch” and “what must it like to grow up that beautiful” and “we’re on the phone and i realize your laugh is the best sound. i. have. eve.r. heard.” and “i’m on my guard for the rest of the world/but with you? i know it’s no good” and “the stakes are high/the waters rough/but this love is ours” and “see you in the dark… all eyes on you my magaician… all eyes on eyes on us… you make everyone disappear” and “all eyes on me your illuionust/all eyes on us… i make all your gray days clear” and “i’m so chill but you make me JEALOUS” and “i’d kiss you as the lights went out… swaying as the room gave out… i’d hold you as the water rushes in” and “cause they see right through me/they see right through me/they see right through/can you see right through me?” and “that’s the heartbreak time could never mend/i’d never walk cornelia street again” and “the more that you say the less i know/where ever you stray i’ll follow” and “but it fades away into my day old tea cause it’ll never be” and “you showed me colors you know that i can’t see with anyone else” and “look at this idiotic fool that you made me/YOU TAUGHT ME A SECRET LANGUAGE I CANT SPEAK WITH ANYONE ELSE” and “i’ve been meaning to tell you, i think your house is haunted, your dad is always mad and that must be why” and “and wonder about the only soul who can tell which smiles im faking” and “i thought the plane was going down/how’d you turn it right around?” and “we’re burned for better” and “somewhere in the haze got a sense id been betrayed” and “all you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing” and “put your lips close to mine as long as they don’t touch/out of focus eye to eye till the gravity’s too much” and “the only one who has enough of me to break my heart” and “but your untouchable burning brighter than the sun/and now that your close i feel like coming undone” and “i wake up screaming from dreaming/one day i’ll watch as your leaving cause you got tired of my scheming/and life will lose all its meaning (for the last time)” and “it’s nice to have a friend” and “your touch brought fourth an incandescent glow/tarnished but so grand” and “all i know is you held the doors/you’ll be mine and i’ll be yours” and “like starlight starlight don’t you dream impossible things” and “you would break your back for me to break a smile” and “who could ever leave me darling… but who could stay?” and “say my name and everything just stops… i don’t want you like a best friend” and “i don’t want to keep secrets just to keep you” and “i screamed for whatever it’s worth/I LOVE YOU AINT THAT THE WORST THING YOU EVER HEARD?”

and people expect me to be normal about that?

[duckymcdoorknob]

Hi so instead of doing my college homework and being a responsible student, I’m gonna throw my brainrot at y’all.

Here’s everyone’s favorite male-wife 🥰

Also I sorry if I got the Geography wrong, I don’t have Inazuma unlocked yet 😭

@tohrusoftie @justanunknown @tea-twords COME FORTH MY LOVELIES

No cw below the cut!

𝑇ℎ𝑜𝑚𝑎 𝐴𝑠 𝐴 𝐵𝑜𝑦𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑:

First and foremost, this man is literally so fucking in love with you.

The two of you had met in Inazuma City. You were perusing the stands for anything that would catch your eye, and he was there to grab the week’s groceries.

Suddenly, a vibrant fruit stand caught your eye. With a smile, you quickly made your way towards it. As you prepared to greet the shop owner, a child ran between your legs, causing you to lose your balance.

(IM SORRY FOR THE CLICHE BUT-) Before you could fall, a hand wrapped around your waist, and another held onto your shoulder. Amidst the bustle, your mind fixated on one voice. It was gentle, full of concern and seriosity.

Once you had reassured your safety to him, the two of you traveled around together. It wasn’t long before you exchanged phone numbers (just pretend).

Overtime, the housekeeper couldn’t help but fall in love with you more and more.

He has a special ringtone set for you, that way he knows whenever you call. Everyone else has a common ringtone, except for Ayato and Ayaka.

Speaking of the Kamisatos, they totally bullied him about his big fat crush on you. Ayato would catch him looking at his phone, then sighing in the most lovesick way.

Ayaka once caught him staring out of the window, leaning on his broom as he watched you in the city. The second she called his name, he tensed up and fell onto his bottom. Was the blush that dusted his cheeks from embarrassment or infatuation?

Eventually, the darling guy mustered up the courage to ask you to be his partner. It was such a sweet gesture that you had to say yes immediately.

As a boyfriend, Thoma is probably the poster child for perfection.

He knows everything about you, down to your blood type. He has all of your favorite things saved into a notepad on his phone, some of those things you never told him, he just took notice.

Thoma is such a gentleman. He holds every door for you, and does not hesitate to lend you his jacket when you’re cold. So what if he’s extra chilly? At least his sweetheart is warm.

He often surprises you with flowers, and always brings you to his favorite Cherry Blossom tree when it’s in bloom. He claims that “cherry blossoms change your fate.” And that “we met while the blossoms were in bloom, and my fate changed for the better.”

He keeps every photo that you send to him saved into respective folders. Selfies, memes, sunsets, pet photos, etc. Each type has its own folder.

Fun fact about sending him selfies: if you look “extra cute”, which he always claims you do, he will cease whatever he’s doing to hide his face in his hands and quietly scream.

He loves to go on dates. Visiting the markets, having picnics, or simply just waking around the city and taking in the cherry blossoms.

This man gives me “I will give you all love languages regardless.” Kinda vibes. Like, he’ll surprise you with a stuffed animal, or a treat from the market, he’ll shower you in kisses and sweet words, he’ll literally sinki into his seat to spend time with you.

I like to think that he can play the piano, so he just sits on the bench and plays the softest melodies while you rest on his shoulder.

I think Thoma is a quality time and physical touch kinda guy. He seems like he will absolutely melt if you play with his hair or kiss his knuckles. ALSO he will just lose it if you hold his head in your lap while he naps.

Be prepared for lots of kisses!! He loves to give kisses to you literally everywhere, but his favorite places are the tip of your nose, the back of your hand, and your lips of course.

He’ll never say it, but if you repeatedly kiss the back of his neck, it helps him relax and fall asleep.

Don’t be afraid to tell him your woes and troubles. Thoma will wake up at any time of night to console any ailments that you might have. He’s quick to hold you close to his heart, planting chaste kisses on your forehead, and brewing you a cup of tea.

If you’re sick, oh Buddy…

He will sacrifice his health so that he can lay with you. He almost always gets sick, and has to wear a mask to work the next day, but it’s always worth it.

I can go on forever and ever, but I’m falling asleep writing these, so feel free to infodump in my asks for any continuation of these. 🥰

[sangfielle]

if its okay to ask, ive been listeing through all of f@tt for the last like, have a year or so, and im finally getting close to the end (close as in im about to start sangfielle, but grand scheme i still think thats close, lol). do you have any podcasts / webcomics / books / etc that you feel have a similar tone, or that you really like as well?

thank you!

okay! hi. sorry this took forever to get around to because i honestly don't know a lot of things that i would consider to be in the same vein as f@tt? the two immediate ones that sprung to my mind were heaven will be mine and gundam, but i get the strangest feeling you already know about both of those. i do have some suggestions that, while not really like friends at the table, i feel you're liable to get something out of if you like it.

podcastwise, something rotten and the ranged touch podcasts (i've only listened to homestuck made this world, but am going to get around to the others, any my friends like them, lol) are nonfiction analysis podcasts. i'm pretty sure austin was actually on the most recent ranged touch patreon episode? but i don't have the money for many subscription things right now, so i can't confirm if that was actually the latest one or anything. + batman unburied is honestly a pretty good podcast that i would recommend if you can buy into the bullshit that is required to get into any major superhero setting. i've also enjoyed what i listened to of campaign: star wars, though that has been very limited. my interest in star wars varies pretty heavily, so i can only listen to it when i'm in a specific mood, and when i am in that mood i'm usually working on catching up on a more civilized age instead.

webcomics: brainchild, fairmeadow, the last halloween, prague race, soil that binds us, and white noise i've all enjoyed what's been put out so far & think other fatt fans may like. i'm a particularly devoted longtime fan of prague race, and i've been really liking white noise.

books: discworld is a very mixed bag for me, but i can't pretend i don't get anything out of it, and i feel if you haven't already read it that there's going to be a lot of appeal overlap for parts of fatt. this is how you lose the time war, obviously. i've moved recently, and have basically a full storage unit's worth of books, but not easy access to them, so i can't really go through and give you recommendations at the moment, because most of the books/series i'm taken with are bad but interesting, and most things that i file under that category i don't know if everyone else will similarly appreciate. i can give you a reading list when i actually get settled in at some point, lol.

shows & movies: nope 2022, the boys (if you can get past the grossout shock humor part of it), the expanse (i am intending to read the books but can't speak to the quality of those yet), the get down, event horizon, palm springs, his house, star trek (especially tng/ds9), princess tutu. this is just off the top of my head, i'm sure i could actually find more shit that i feel like i could put here if i combed through everything i've ever watched.

video games: if you like janine's characters in specific, dragon age will probably be up your alley. other than that, weird west, fallen london and the games surrounding it, disco elysium (obviously), the dishonored series, elder scrolls, zero escape, slay the spire, a mortician's tale, king of the castle (obviously, again), fallen hero, manor hill, vespertines, & dr langeskov (^^) i've all found charming and to hold some level of interest.

i have a lot more things i could recommend if you don't specifically want something good, but i figure i should leave it at things i can actually recommend without too many disclaimers (besides discworld) for this.

[sp1rit-realm]

₊‧꒰ა 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ⧿ 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐮𝐩𝐬! 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟, 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢'𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞!

Happy 900!!!! Ummm Marauders maybe? but if you think someone else fits better I assure you I don’t mind.

Where to start, i’m pretty quiet, like very very soft spoken until im really comfortable in a room. Once I know someone I’m still quiet in volume but then i can talk for at least 15 minutes straight without losing my rhythm and i get very very animated, lots of facial expressions, too many hands waving around. I like reading but I can’t call myself a bookworm because I take too long to finish them and usually give up so i’m more of a book dragon. I love writing and art and being creative and I love to learn but i hate to be graded. My favorite color is burgundy and my favorite season is whatever one it currently is until the very end and i’m sick of it, then i like whichever one is coming next. I like to collect things and i’m way too sentimental. I like rain and leather jackets and i don’t know if you want any physical attributes but im short enough that literally everyone comments when i wear tall shoes (i have platform doc martins with a heel so it’s only like 4 inches which i guess is a lot over all but even then Im only up to like 5’6-‘7 barely) And my hair is stuck an almost auburn color because I dyed it dark plum/burgundy in november and now the final claws of goldish red are dug in and i don’t see it letting go, which is especially annoying because my roots are returning much lighter than i last remember but I’ve been dying my hair since at least last June so i don’t know what I really expected. I have identity crises over my hair at least every other week.

In terms of how I love people it’s very much however it works with that person. I like when people like to pay attention to me and look for me in a room and that kind of thing, I also really like to be held and have my hair played with,,,,i find dogs very relatable (but don’t let that sway your decision in anyway, do what your heart tells you)

I’m sure 900 people leads to a lot of asks, but i have no idea, so please take your time and don’t feel rushed or obligated at all. I am so proud of this milestone for you and i’m so proud of all the people coming to their senses to appreciate such a talented spirit like you 💖💖💖

HI MARA!!!!!! THANK U SO MUCH

if you mean marauders era in general, i say (drumroll please)

you and dorcas!

to me, her character is very laid back, but secretly she's so passionate. like, she pretends she doesn't care, but really secretly does. she would adore all the things you collect, and will listen to anything you have to say about them. she'd still have to lean down to kiss you. she would say, "really? new hair again, mara?" and then she would whisper to you, "it's cute, makes your eyes pop." because nobody can know that she adores anybody, until you become official. then, she can't stop talking about you. she will read books to you as you lay your head on her lap, hair being played with. she would dance with you in the rain. she would steal your jacket because it smells like you, and because it means everybody knows you're hers. she would sit and listen to you rant/ramble/infordump and watch lovingly as your mouth moves a mile a second and your tongue gets all twisted. she would hang up your art, proudly displaying it as to say: "yeah, my girlfriend? they're perfect, and talented, and beautiful, and look at this art they made." she would kick someone's teeth in for you, and she winks at you during her quidditch games, loving how much you blush; stark red in the sea of green.

[glambots]

I just have to share this cause i've had brainworms about it since I heard the song im gonna mention. this is NOT a request, just a thing i wanted to share! any and everyone is free to take my ideas here and run with em!

So, I found a song called The Court Jester by thquib/Joe Swensen, and then an amazing cover of said song by Sanguine. As i kept listening to the song, and thinking about the lyrics, it inspired a sort of AU? or something? and i've just now gotten the confidence to share.

This might get cut off or something, since i dont know the current limits on asks. Also, preemptive apology for my rambling lol.

The italics (slanty text) is the lyrics, the normal text is my thoughts.

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

I am the Jester, my job's to entertain

And it seems that soon enough it too will be my job to reign

Over all that you see, over all that you know

As the king is slowly dying, any moment he could go

Yes the king is slowly dying, any moment he will go

This section is the introduction to the DCA, who notices how the Fazbear Company is slowly dying due to his change to a childcare bot from his old job, and how less and less people are coming, and things they overhear from others. This section is also mainly a flashback to when the Pizzaplex was still open.

Oh! Sweet memories, come rushing back to me

As I trace my fingers on these haggard walls within your keep

Though my exile still stands, I heard my duty call to me

Because I am the Court Jester, I've grown tired of my sleep

After all, I am the jester, and I've tired of my sleep

This section flashes forward to a damaged looking DCA wandering a ruined Pizzaplex. It’s clearly been at least 10 years since the Plex fell into disrepair, due to all the overgrowth.

What good is a crown if the brow it sits on is that of a dead man

I'll wear my cap and painted smile with pride, my trusty baton in my hand

And you will see me, sire, I'll make my way back to you

You cannot stop me sire, your time is up, I see right through you

Mostly flashback again here. Mostly shows the DCA’s prime in their original job. With the last couple lines, it flashes forward again to the DCA’s damaged hand clenching in anger.

Though resolute you may pretend to be inside your walls

The people soon will realize that your feeble body can't forestall

The inevitable end that we all will one day meet

You are human, you are dying, yes know I it's bittersweet

But you knew this day would come, and you can't borrow steal or cheat

Yes, your maker gave you time, but you've run out, and soon you'll meet

The DCA continues to wander the ruined Plex, with flashbacks to when it was open throughout.  (or maybe someone else could think of something more interesting for this part, idk.)

I was awoken by some nibbling in my brain

A single thought, just like a knot, a stone, a weight I can't explain

That sat there pulling me to consciousness and waking soon I found

Myself entrenched in ancient earth, with roots and vines my arms were bound

And in this post-hibernatal state my mind was filled with clouds of doubt

Were these my memories? or something else? and soon I felt the urge to get out

Flashes to the DCA waking up buried under rubble some time after the Fire Ending. They are covered in plant growth, showing it’s been at least a few years since the fire.

Tearing, ripping, painful as it was

Vines and leaves gave way easy just because

All that's left in this world is decay;

Soon I knew what caused me to awake

The DCA suddenly sits up, and begins freeing themself with surprising strength.

With a newfound memory after rest

I felt something bubbling in my chest

Soon I felt myself losing control

Peals of laughter rang into the distance from my soul

I cannot recognize a single thing in front of me

The world as I knew it now is gone, is this reality?

Absurd and nonsensical, fantastical and daft

All that is left to do is sit right down and laugh

After resting for a moment after freeing themself, they remember what happened up to the building collapsing. They laugh as they realize they were completely forgotten there, the thought nearly breaking them. The instrumental part is just them sitting there.

Oh this world that I left you in

Has been tainted by your sin

And as such I have now taken it upon myself

To reinstate the reign of laughter and in health I will return

Oh I am making my way back I will return

Soon the people will remember the reason why they burn

And the fires in their might will start to turn

Pointing fists and shouting out with no more reason for concern

The DCA decides to try to find anyone they can, human or bot, and figure out what has happened since the fire. They meet some human they knew from the Plex, and they team up. Slowly, they start telling the world what happened.

Soon you will see! the world will turn upon its head!

Just you hope that you can see it 'fore you're dead!

Foolish king, you sit in empty meaning on your throne

But in my time away you've ended up alone

Oh, all the power in the world could never save you now

As the time at which your curtain's called draws nearer, get ready to take your bow

The age of reason is now drawing to a close!

And now I, the mere Court Jester, will his majesty depose

I will tip the gilded throne, in me the people will repose

Because I am the Court Jester, not all thorns come with a rose

After all, I am the jester, and this future I propose:

Let the fool, let me, the jester, bring the olden tales to close

Let the fool, let me, the jester, a new saga now compose

In this last section, there is a big time skip. The events eventually leads to a sort of sapient robot rights revolution. The vast majority of people support the idea, so those in power are “alone”. The ending could be either more positive, with humans and sapient bots living in peace, or whatever else you could think of.

Love when the Brain Animatics take over, it is a burden we all must share.

[fairyyeo]

head spin

pairing — richkid!taehyun x richkid!reader

featuring — yeonjun, soobin, chaewon, and jay

genre — gossip girl au

tw — alcohol consumption

wc — 1.4k

a/n — inspired by a gossip girl episode i just watched idk i kinda had fun writing this im probably gonna turn it into a full fic if everyone likes it !!!!

————

it was your birthday. not even a significant one, yet a party with this much grandeur would suggest otherwise. anyone would think it was celebrating a holiday like christmas or new year's eve.

to be fair, it was pretty magnificent and you were having the time of your life. in fact, you hadn't been this happy for a while. school was kicking your ass, not that you'd let it show, and your family couldn't care less about your feelings as they kept trying to force your relationship with choi yeonjun.

yeonjun was not a bad guy by any means. you truly did care for him as a friend and you knew the feeling was mutual. the two of you just weren't suited for each other romantically and you both knew this. it was becoming increasingly difficult to attend family affairs together and play the part of childhood sweethearts, linking arms and kissing cheeks as you were introduced to more forgettable faces. if you were being honest, this arrangement between your families was doing anything but bring you two together, lately you felt as though it was driving you apart.

you couldn't blame yeonjun, any time outside of school was pretty much spent at your side or yours at his. he was growing tired of pretending and getting worse at hiding it. you knew he was seeing other people frequently and you really didn't care, as long as he didn't get caught and make the situation more difficult for the both of you. if it kept him sane, you didn't mind. you didn't want to lose your friend completely.

speaking of yeonjun, you hadn't seen him for a while. you weaved through the crowd of people dressed to the nines, like yourself, and headed to the bar.

"hey chae, have you seen yeonjun recently?" you asked chaewon as she downed a shot.

"you just missed him, he came to snatch a bottle of wine and dragged soobin away with him." she giggled picking up her glass that the bartender refilled.

you quickly scanned the room and managed to catch a glimpse of yeonjun and soobin stumbling upstairs, one holding the wine and the other holding the glasses.

you rolled your eyes jokingly, "i just hope they end up in a guest room and not my bedroom."

chaewon laughed loudly, leaning back as she clutched her stomach, "yeonjun becomes more shameless everyday."

"yeah," you chuckled, motioning for the bartender to pour you a shot, "i do wish he'd be a little more careful, though."

chaewon knew where this conversation was going, she'd heard it many times before—not that she minded. she knew that talking about it was good for you, since there was no one else you trusted to tell. she always tried to keep the discussion light and full of jokes, you needed that and she knew it.

taehyun, who's eyes had been laser focused on you all night, could also easily guess where the conversation had ended up, even if he was on the other side of the room. your palm rested on your hairline as chaewon smiled, trying to coax a smile from you. he knew that look of despair on your face and chaewon's matching look of persistence as she continued joking about your complicated relationship with yeonjun.

he felt relieved when he finally saw you crack a grin and stand back up, heading back onto the makeshift dance floor—which looked incredible, if he did say so himself. after all, he'd organised this whole party, not that you knew it.

taehyun didn't even hear the girl who'd been talking to him for the last five minutes, he was lost in his own mind. "sorry, i need some air." he'd said bluntly, leaving her mid-sentence.

taehyun strode towards the patio balcony, grabbing a beer along the way. chaewon didn't miss this and was going to follow him out but chose to let him be alone for a minute first, since that's clearly what he wanted.

truthfully, you hadn't even been aware that taehyun was at your party. in your defense, there were a lot of people there and you didn’t get the chance to properly greet at least half of them.

chaewon decided she’d let taehyun mope for long enough. she was going to get him back inside one way or another.

she headed outside to the balcony, making sure to close the glass sliding door a little too loudly so that taehyun would know she’s there. as planned, taehyun threw a half-ass glance over his shoulder to see who had joined him.

“hi kang,” chaewon greeted, going to stand next to him, “what’s going on?” she dragged out the end of the question in a light-hearted tone.

“just getting some air.” replied, not bothering to spare chaewon another glance.

to his surprise, she laughed. “you’re lying. only sad people escape to the balcony at parties.” her eyes narrowed, “so what’s wrong?”

“i don’t know you that well.” taehyun tried to wriggle out of the question.

“i know, but i’m so smashed i probably won’t remember in the morning anyway.” she shrugged.

now she was the liar, but so what?

taehyun let out a big breath, like he’d been holding it for some time. “if you say so.”

“what’s the problem, kang?” chaewon asked, pushing herself up to sit on the railing.

taehyun immediately pulled her down as he simply replied, “its y/n.”

she almost choked on her drink, “well that’s not what i was expecting.”

“yeah, well, y’know.” it was his turn to shrug.

“what is it about y/n? do you like them?” chaewon questioned, starting to talk a little more seriously since he clearly wasn’t the laugh-off-your-problems type.

“what? no.” he replied a little too quickly and with too much defence in his tone, “i’m just worried about them.”

“why’s that?” she asked.

“well, it’s like this…” taehyun began.

the sofa you were sitting on had a great view of the balcony, so great in fact, that you saw the way chaewon placed a hand on taehyun’s back.

interesting, you thought. you were sure that chaewon wasn’t into boys.

you didn’t get much time to consider the situation as the guy sitting next to you slung his arm around you, pulling you closer.

“i don’t believe i’ve had the chance to wish you a happy birthday yet.” he practically whispered in your ear.

you recognised him as jay-something, you couldn’t remember his last name for the life of you. but that didn’t seem to matter to him as he placed a hand under your chin and turned your face towards him.

“is this okay for a birthday gift?” jay asked, making sure he wasn’t crossing any lines.

perhaps he didn’t know you and yeonjun were ‘dating’, perhaps he’d seen yeonjun run upstairs with soobin, or perhaps people were finally starting to realise the relationship wasn’t real between the two of you. whatever it was, not many people often offered to kiss you at parties, and when they did, you politely turned them down in fear of getting spotted with someone other than yeonjun.

however, if yeonjun was upstairs having a little fun, then you could do the same. besides, it was your birthday after all.

you nodded, “i couldn’t ask for anything better.”

with that, jay leant it and placed his lips on yours. it wasn’t long before you were on his lap and getting a little too carried away. to be fair, it had been a long time since you made out with someone, since you never did that with yeonjun and rarely had the opportunity to with anyone else. so you could excuse yourself for getting a little carried away, hands in hair and yearning kisses.

“…and now they’re in there sucking face with jay park.” taehyun said blankly, though he couldn’t bring himself to be mad when you pulled away with the biggest grin on your face.

“at least they look happy.” chaewon reasoned while she tried to soak in the entire dilemma that taehyun had just shared with her.

“that’s all i want.” he looked away, not able to stomach the sight of jay pulling you in for another kiss.

“we’ll work this out kang, don’t you worry too much, okay?” chaewon pat his back comfortingly once more before heading towards the door.

just as she was about to leave, taehyun called over his shoulder, “thanks for the talk, kim.”

she simply waved goodbye as she went back inside, leaving taehyun alone like he originally intended to be.

taehyun thought back on his conversation with chaewon. he knew he wasn’t in love, the two of you were nothing more than acquaintances, it wasn’t possible.

but if that was the case, then why was the thought of you making out with jay park completely nauseating? and why did the sight of your smile make his head spin?

[indigothemuse]

Lemongrass Tea and Other Small Things

hi!! here's my KOTLC secret santa!! for @novaliae!! thank you so much to @song-tam for hosting this event!! it was super fun and i hope everyone else had a good time!

you can read it here on my ao3!

oh my god, and, of course, thank you so so much to @wonder-womans-ex for being a FANTASTIC beta, and the reason why it's coherent (im so sorry i forgot to mention you the first time around)

Being part of the group to create the Black Swan felt natural. Tiergan had never felt as though he turned his back on the rest of the elves. Weren’t they trying to create a better world for themselves? He sighed. He’d never imagined that this would be the outcome. Prentice had been lost for so long, so to only now get him back…

But only to get him back, memories almost lost. And…Cyrah. Tiergan had loved Cyrah, and her death had almost broken him completely after Prentice called Swan Song and his mind breaking.

Prentice was slowly coming back. It was a process, he had to remind himself. Losing your mind and then regaining it was practically unheard of. (Never mind Alden.) And Sophie…he felt grief for her. She had lost her childhood, turned into a soldier by not only circumstance, but by them. By him.

“I can hear you brooding. You can’t solve anything by being miserable.” Prentice leaned against the railing beside him, holding out a mug of tea. At Tiergan’s look, he smiled softly. “Lemongrass. You used to drink it when your anxiety got worse.”

Tiergan’s mouth felt dry. He hadn’t drunk lemongrass tea (or mint—Prentice’s preference) since the mind break. It tasted like home. By his smile, Prentice knew it.

“Thank you, even if you’re going to act insufferable about it.”

“Me? Insufferable? Never!”

“Mhm.”

Tiergan broke first, laughing into his cup. Prentice grinned. He took another sip of tea. It tasted, well…like lemon. But it reminded him of home, of sitting in Cyrah and Prentice’s home, of playing with a young Wylie. Prentice smiled at him, and the two stood in silence.

The silence breaks, just a few minutes later as Wylie, Linh, and Tam come home. They look happy, and Tiergan greets them warmly. He’s glad that they’re happy.

Linh is beaming, teasing Tam about something. His son The boy is blushing furiously, much to her delight. There’s water droplets hovering around her, a sure sign of her joy.

Wylie has such a fond look on his face, and Tiergan wishes, oh so desperately, that he could preserve this moment, forever. Prentice is laughing at something Tam said, face transformed by joy. He’s so alive.

He takes a sip of his tea, relaxing into the comfort it gives. And he watches, surrounded by his family.

Tiergan is going into his final year of regular Foxfire, before the elite levels, surrounded by his family. Prentice is draped across his lap, feet in Cyrah’s. Livvy is there too, all on the floor of Cyrah’s room.

They’re dressed in finery, preparing for her Winnowing Gala. Her hair is pulled back in an elaborate updo, gold threaded through the red strands. She’s beautiful, he thinks, and reaches across to squeeze her hand. She gifts him with a bright smile, eyes twinkling.

“Cy, hold still. You’re going to make me mess up!” Livvy has a makeup brush clutched in her hand, dipped in fine gold powder.

“Liv, it doesn’t matter—��

“It matters to me, hold on.” Tongue poking out, she dusts the gold across her eyelids.

Prentice sighs, leaning back against him. “I think I could just fall asleep like this.”

“Do it.”

A soft laugh. “I need to finish getting ready too.”

“Mm. You look fine.” He punctuates this with a soft kiss to his cheek. He smiles, clearly pleased.

“You smell like lemongrass. Did you get perfume?”

“Mhm. Kesler.”

“Nice. Maybe I should ask him for some.”

“What? For your boring tea?”

Prentice twists, a look of pretend outrage. “Hey! Excuse you, I have great taste!”

Tiergan can’t help the fond smile. “Sure, love.”

He scrunches his nose. Cyrah, done, moves closer, resting her cheek against his shoulder.

“Gross,” Livvy calls, clearly unbothered.

“The polycule is open for you! As we’ve said many times!”

“I’m good. Now, finish getting ready so we can go wow everyone with our hot gayness.”

Tiergan snorts and lets Prentice pull him to his feet. “Okay, I’m thinking of eyeliner.”

“Are we trying to give Cy’s parents a heart attack?”

“Mhm! It’ll be fun, baby!”

“I agree. Can you imagine Mom’s look?” She presses a kiss to his cheek.

He rolls his eyes, but leans against her for a moment.

“Right!” Livvy claps her hands a few minutes later, resplendent in a bright red dress, gold beads in her hair. “We ready?”

“Yep!” Prentice has a gold bracelet on, matching Tiergan and Cyrah. The three of them look like a set, and makes something inside him warm. They’re both beautiful, each positively striking in their splendor. (He could look at them forever, and never grow bored.)

Tiergan and Prentice take one of her arms, and together they walk down the stairs into a dazzling ballroom. It’s filled with young men, all vying for her attention. She graces them with one last smile, before sweeping into the crowd. Tiergan dances with Livvy, and then Soheila, Cyrah’s younger sister. They talk amicably, before the song ends, and he’s left alone.

He spends two dances leaning against the wall, watching his friends. Cyrah is a sight to see on the dance floor, her blue dress easily more magnificent than anyone else's. It makes sense, seeing as she’s the star of the night. Still, she’s beautiful in her element, a specter of powder blue and gold and shining red. I love you, he will say that night, later, when all three of them are in comfortable clothes and her makeup is gone and her hair is down, and he will find her just as beautiful.

Prentice too, is alluring. He’s in dark blue pajamas, lounging back on her bed, eyes closed. Maybe he is foolish, he thinks, but he kisses his forehead anyway, pulling a blanket over him. I love you, he has whispered over and over, and it’s never felt as true as it does right now.

He hasn’t said I love you since Cyrah died. It’s as though his heart has closed off, unwilling to let anyone near. But this is Prentice, he reminds himself, as they sit on the couch. His feet are back in Tiergan’s lap, as they so often were Before. His hands are holding a book, balancing it upon his legs. Prentice is drinking a cup of tea, eyes almost shut. He laughs a little at that. Some things don’t change. He had always been an early sleeper, the first to fall asleep anywhere. He keeps reading, only reaching over to take the cup away to place on the low table.

“I love you,” Tiergan breathes, oh-so-quietly, hoping Prentice hears but also wishing desperately that he doesn’t.

He wakes up the next morning underneath a blanket and resting against him. He’s warm. It’s like being a student all over again—falling asleep on sofas together, waking up late for class.

He’s not quite sure what woke him up until he hears the kids frantically whispering.

“I said to be quiet! Not to bump into anything!”

“I didn’t do it intentionally!” Linh whispers back to him, and he can practically see the twins locked in their quiet debate.

Wylie laughs quietly. “I’m sure they’re still asleep. Dad can sleep through anything, and I’m pretty sure Tiergan can too. Trust me, we could set off alarms and they’d sleep through the night.”

He’s not…wrong, exactly. Cyrah had been the early riser of the three, and she would wake them up in the morning. Tiergan would be content to sleep through the day, but he has to teach.

Oh no. He has to teach; he has a job. But he’s warm…hm. Would Leto care if he called in sick? Wait, no, he has a meeting with Sophie. Hmm.

He waits for a few minutes until the kids leave, and carefully moves off of Prentice, fixing the blanket. Tiergan can’t resist, and presses a light kiss to his forehead. “Sleep well, love.” I love you. He goes to get ready for the day, leaving a short while later, brushing his hair back into a bun.

With a quick, “Foxfire!” he arrives on the campus, giving a quick greeting to some of the prodigies. At least he gets to skip orientation. In his office, he sits down, pulling out a folder.

He has to prepare for his first prodigy—a level 4 student named Sage Keyston. They’re working on better mental concentration, especially when it comes to transmitting.

It’s a good lesson, and Sage makes a lot of progress.

“Good job today, Sage. I’d recommend practicing with someone else too. If you’d like, I can send you a list.”

“Sure! That sounds awesome! Thanks, Tiergan!” Sage gives a cheerful wave and flounces out, going to their next class.

He only has a few moments before Sophie’s coming inside, giving him a nervous smile. Her hair’s been braided with small flowers, possibly courtesy of Biana. “Hey, Tiergan.”

“Sophie. Do you need something?” She’s not scheduled to come in until later, close to the end of the day.

“I had a question. It’s, uh, a little personal though.”

“Okay…why don’t you sit down? I have some tea, if you’d like it.” She’s trembling slightly, he notes as she sits down.

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Sophie is devoutly staring at her hands, and he turns to give her some privacy. He doesn’t have lemongrass here, but he does have rose tea. While he makes them each a cup, she starts talking. “I… being queer isn’t really accepted here, is it?”

Tiergan flinches, almost splashing himself. “Er, not really. Most younger elves are more accepting, but you know how traditional older elves can be.”

“Yeah.”

“Can I ask what brought this on?” He hands her the cup, and she hugs it to herself.

“It’s uh. I think I like Biana.”

“Ah. Any reason why you came to me?”

She peers at him from underneath her bangs. “You’re the only adult who wouldn’t be weird about this, or strange for me to talk to, especially without anyone listening.”

He nods, taking a seat. “I see. Well, I’m happy to help, if I can. As I said, most of the older elves aren’t quite as approving since it’s a “bad match”. However, I don’t care. It doesn’t bother me. Hell, I don’t think it even could.” He gives a soft smile, glancing at the photograph on his desk. It’s from when they graduated—the three of them, all smiling and pleased. Sophie is still clutching at the cup desperately, and he aches. He knows.

“I just…I know it’s natural, and normal, and perfectly fine. But that was back in the Forbidden Cities, with humans. And here…everything is so focused on getting a good match that even the idea of a bad match…”

“It was hard. But, Sophie, it gets better. Trust me on this one. It might hurt, and it might be difficult, but it’s worth it.”

And really, it is, isn’t it? He’s…he’s happy now. She smiles tentatively at him, and drinks some of the tea.

“Thanks, Tiergan. I think I’m gonna go to my next class. Can you write me a note?” “Of course, Sophie. Good luck.” He writes out a quick tardy pass and hands it to her. She grins, and leaves.

And there he is. Back in his office, on his own. He drains his tea, and glances down at his imparter.

Prentice: Tiergan, how important was the red vase to you?

Tiergan: What did you do.

Prentice: Absolutely nothing, I’m a perfect angel and you know it

Tiergan: Mhmm, sure. And to answer your question: No, I don’t care about the red vase. Please sweep up the glass so no one gets hurt.

Prentice: Sure thing! Have fun at work, love

His face warms, and he taps out a quick reply. I love you. He doesn’t send that, but the thought lingers throughout the day.

He goes home, bearing a message from the kids. Prentice is waiting for him on the sofa, reaching out to pull him into a hug.

“Good evening. How was work?”

“Not too bad. Sage made a lot of progress.”

“That’s excellent! I’m glad they’re improving.”

“Mhm. Also, the kids said they were going to go to Havenfield.”

“Sounds fun.” Tiergan adjusts to sit sideways on his lap, leaning his head against his shoulder. “Hi.”

“Hm?”

“Nothing important, love. Do you want me to read outloud?”

“Mhm.”

“Alright. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

This time, it doesn’t have to just be in his thoughts. This time, he says it, soft as it may have been.

And so, the night draws to a close: the two tucked away in their own little world, reading. And he’s happy.

I love you.

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

And that's that! thank you so much for reading, and i hope you enjoyed reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it <3

[azudarlings]

hi guys have a random rant i went on about jamil's character as the way i see him

I ALWAYS SAW JAMIL AS REDEEMABLE CAUSE I UNDERSTOOD HIS WHOLE STORY IN A WAY WHERE IT WAS LIKE HE'S ALWAYS BEEN TREATED AS LESS THAN KALIM DESPITE BEING LIKE SMARTER THAN HIM MORE ORGANIZED PUT TOGETHER SO IT WAS A SLOWLY BUILDING RESENTMENT--HE COULD NEVER OUTSHINE KALIM, AND IT MADE HIM LIKE BITTER TOWARDS HIM, CAUSE IT WAS ALWAYS JAMIL BEING FORCED TO BE MORE MATURE THAN HE ACTUALLY IS, ALWAYS JAMIL MAKING SACRIFICES, WHILE KALIM WAS ABLE TO DO ANYTHING AND BE LOVED BY HIS FAMILY WHEN JAMIL WAS JUST SOME TOOL TO THEM. THERES A THEORY ABOUT HIS SISTER, WHO IS LIKE 3ISH YEARS YOUNGER THAN HIM, THAT SHES A REPLACEMENT FOR HIM CAUSE KIDS DEVELOP A BEGINNIGN PEROSNALITY AROUND 3 AND IF JAMILS PARENTS DIDNT WANNA RISK IT THEY COULDVE HAD HIS SISTER AROUND THAT TIME IN CASE JAMIL FAILED AT BEING A PROPER BODYGUARD RETAINER WHATEVER HE IS AND ALSO JAMIL WAS LIKE SOMEONE WHO JUST WANTED ONE MOMENMT TO SHINE AND THEN HE'LL BE FINE REPRESSING HIMSELF AND PRETENDING AGAIN BC HE WOULD ALWAYS BE PRETENDING UNLESS HE WAS ALONE, THAT'S WHERE HE COULD FINALLY REST AND LET HIS GUARD DOWN BUT MAYBE NOT EVEN THEN BC HE HAD TO ALWAYS BE ON ALERT AND SINCE THIS STRESS WAS ON HIM SINCE HE WAS A LITTLE KID HE JUST SLOWLY GOT MORE AND MORE NUMB BUT ALSO MORE AND MORE ANGRY AND BITTER BECAUSE IT WAS ALWAYS KALIM THIS KALIM THAT AND HE HAD TO DUMB HIMSELF DOWN TO SOME MEDICORE NOTHING, NEVER GETTING ANY COMPLIMENTS OR PRAISE OR NOTICE, NOTHING JUST CONSTANTLY DROWNING IN KALIM'S SHADOW THAT KALIM WASN'T EVEN AWARE HE CAST. LIKE IDK IF I SAID THIS BEFORE BC I LOST MY TRAIN OF THOUGHT BUT JAMIL SHOVED ALL HIS EMOTIONS BENEATH HIS LITTLE MASK, PROBABLY HAVING TO LOOK/ACT PLEASANT AND MAYBE TO KALIM HE COULD BE A LITTLE BIT MORE LIKE HIMSELF, BUT NEVER COULD REVEAL HIMSELF AND AS A KID ESP SINCE HES DONE THIS SINCE A KID HE DEF MATURED WAY FASTER THAN A KID SHOULDVE AND LIKE HES TO THE POINT WHERE HE CAN JUST SEPERATE HIS EMOTIONS ENTIRELY FROM A SITUATION, E.G. STUDYING, WHICH IM GUESSING IS BECAUSE HES ALWAYS BEEN HAVING TO PUT HIMSELF LIKE ASIDE FOR OTHER PEOPLE SINCE SERVING KALIM WAS HIS JOB AND THOUGH HIS ACTIONS TO KALIM ARE OBVIOUSLY VERY LIKE THERE'S NO EXCUSE BUT IMO THERE'S JUSTIFICATION LIKE THERE'S A REASON WHY HE ACTED THIS WAY, HE WAS SO SO SO SICK OF KALIM GETTING AWAY WITH EVERYTHING FACING NO CONSEQUENCES HAVING EVERYTHING HE WAS LIKE JEALOUS LIKE WHY CANT I HAVE THAT AND HE WAS SICK AND TIRED OF NEVER GETTING ANY PRAISE OR UNDERSTANDING OR EMPATHY BECASUE JAMIL KNOWS HE'S SMART--WAY SMARTER THAN KALIM BECAUSE HE'S CONSTANTLY HAD TO DRILL EVERYHTING HE DID KNOW INTO KALIM'S HEAD AND SINCE HE'S WITH KALIM 24/7 HE NEVER REALLY GETS A BREAK FROM HIM WHICH DEFINITELY JUST MADE HIM MORE ANGRY LIKE HE SAW ALL OF KALIMS FLAWS AND IT PISSED HIM OFF BC KALIM DIDNT EVEN SEE THOSE AND NORMALLY HE WOULDNT CARE OR MIND ASIDE FROM BEING ANNOYED BUT THIS WAS COUPLED WITH THE FACT HES CONSTANTLY STRESSED AND BUSY MOSTLY BC OF KALIM AS WELL AS ALL THE STRESS AND EMOTIONS HE'S BOTTLED UP AND HE JUST LOSES IT DURING THAT WHOLE THING W KALIM CHAPTER 4 CAUSE WASNT HIS PLAN JUST SOME SHIT ABOUT MAKING EVERYONE THINK KALIMS HAD SOME KIND OF BREAKDOWN BUT IF HE DID THEN HED JUST GET REPLACED BY SOMEONE YOUNGER AND JAMIL WOULDNT BE ABLE TO OUTSHINE THAT PERSON YOUNGER THAN HIM CAUSE HES THE SERVANT OR WHATEVER SO THE SITUATION WOULD BE WORSE … SO IM CHALKING IT UP TO JAMILS SNAPPING POINT HE FINALLY HAD ENOUGH (WHICH SINCE THE LETTER HC SOMEONES TELLING HIM NOT TO TAKE SHIT AND JAMILS JUST BEEN WANTING TO FINALLY BE FREE AND SOMEONE ELSE BELIEVES HIM SO THATS THE FINAL PUSH HE NEEDS) AND SINCE JAMIL JUST WANTED LIKE ENOUGH TO BE OPEN ABOUT HIS GRADES AND ACTUALLY TRY IN THINGS HE STICKS W KALIM AFTER THE WHOLE OVERBLOT INCIDENT AND LIKE DOESNT TRY ANY OTHER SHIT I THINK CAUSE THEY GO TO VDC OR WHATEVER TOGETHER IN THE NEXT CHAPTER AND ARE ALL BUDDY-BUDDY SO JAMIL LIKE FINALLY GOT HIS SHIT BACK TOGETHER AFTER THAT WHOLE INCIDENT AND

bro i went over the TEXT LIMIT ill continue this on a reblog