warsawmouse

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    I wish you would write a fic where: Shen Jiu decides Fuck It and starts writing stories (which helps him get some of his heart demons under control because venting). He can use it for practice on several skills and his ability to research. Tianlang Jun finds out who one of his new favorite authors is

    Rage and spite are powerful motivators. And if there were ever two emotions that Shen Jiu held in abundence, it was those two. So it comes as no surprise that during a medically mandated period of seclusion that Shen Jiu would be seized with a rage so potent after reading what Shang Qinghua dared refer to as 'literature' that he would end up writing his own. That he would even be spiteful enough to go and get said literature published was also unsurprising.

    What was surprising was how popular it ended up becoming.

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    18 Jun 2022

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    Inko wakes up a few times with hazy nightmares of bruises and grinding bones. Hisashi sleeps soundly. She stares at the wall and thinks of the child she’s still keeping a secret, thinks about their future with a trapped mother and a father who wouldn’t think twice about ending a life. Her friends have disappeared. The boy who'd flirted with her is dead. Hisashi's right in the middle of it, with that smile that says he'd do it all again in a heartbeat.

    She can’t let her baby end up like that. She can’t watch an innocent mind be warped into the person that Hisashi must be. It’ll be hard, raising a kid on her own. She hasn’t even gone to a doctor yet to make sure her pregnancy’s going okay. “Either I give up everything I have,” she says, hand resting on her belly. “Or I let Hisashi ruin my baby forever.”

    (The choice is easy, in the end. She picks her child.)

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    20 May 2022

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    Sirens.

    Those are for ambulances, Izuku dimly remembers. And police cars and fire trucks. Izuku always hopes it’s a fire truck, so he can go to the window and watch it zoom along the street below. He has one, in fact. A fire truck. It has a ladder you can move up and down. His mom got it for his birthday. It’s red and white, and the light on top flashes when you put the batteries in.

    “Izuku! Where are you?”

    Hands reach under him and turn him over. Big and gentle, lifting him off his back, into the air and out of the dirt. He’s folded against someone’s chest. They smell like cologne and smoke, heartbeat steady and slow against his ear. Slowly, Izuku blinks tears away and looks up. It’s a man. With half his face missing, so all that’s left is a smile. “Hello again,” he says and presses a kiss to Izuku’s hair.

    Izuku, ears ringing and limbs weak, opens his mouth and screams.

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    19 May 2022

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    This is the way the world works: the sun rises in the east. The strong come out on top. Bakugou Katsuki rockets through life like a comet and Midoriya Izuku stumbles after. If he believed in such things Katsuki would say it was written in the stars. That some god of war had looked at him and said this one. That he’d been passed along a line to get his blessings – genius, willpower, fearless ambition – and dropped off on earth.

    Then, of course, there is the question of Deku. The spitfire runt. Deku, no matter what the world does to him, never stops hoping.

    Until, of course, he eventually does.

     

    (Katsuki broke him. Snapped him in half like a twig and now has to scramble to put Deku back together. “We can do this, Deku," he says slowly. "There are so many mysteries that never got put to bed. Criminals roaming around looking to hurt people and you and me, we can fix that.

    There’s a long pause. The comforter slips a little off Deku’s skinny shoulders and drowns him. “You mean like a team?”

    In that split second, Katsuki makes a decision he’s never even considered. He swallows his pride. “Yeah, Deku. We’d be a team.”)

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    19 May 2022

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    05 May 2022