#I have disabled anon asks and closed prompts because it began to feel like people were taking advantage of it

[ailendolin]

Do you prefer comments left only on AO3 to improve the stats and keep everything neat in one place, or are you good with comments still on tumblr?

That's a good question! Thank you for asking!

I think my opinion on this has changed over the years. When I used to post a fic on AO3, I only shared the link here on Tumblr to promote it. I wanted people to go to AO3 to read my stories because:

the number of hits, kudos and comments matters. Some people filter/sort fics by those stats, so the higher these numbers, the more likely it is people will find the fic and give it a chance

it's easier for people to find my other fics if they end up wanting to read more of my works

I love rereading old comments, especially when I don't feel motivated to write, and AO3 has it all neatly in one place, just like you said.

All these points still stand today but I eventually started posting my fics on Tumblr as well because I got the feeling that some people prefer to read them on here - which is fine by me because in the end, it doesn't really matter where people comment, only that they do.

The thing with Tumblr is, though, that a fic only reaches potential new readers if people also reblog it. If it isn't circled around, it'll get lost in the tags within the day and that's it. So the best readers on here can do to help an author is to reblog a fic and either add their comment below it or in the tags. And if they want to go a step further, they can then head over to AO3 and leave kudos and a comment there as well.

Now, I'm obviously not asking anyone to do that and I certainly don't expect anyone to comment twice. But I wish readers would just take a moment after reading a fic to think about how much time the author put into it, because we're talking hours, days, sometimes even weeks, months and years here. Most authors have regular day jobs and spend what little free time they have creating these stories only for people to read them in a matter of minutes and then click the like / kudos button and move on. It is, quite frankly, disappointing to only get likes and kudos on something you've poured your heart into, and also highly demotivating. Fandom is about interaction and gushing about your favourite characters together and getting inspired by each other. Kudos and likes don't offer that, and as long as readers prefer them over comments and reblogs, it shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone when writers (and artists too) lose the motivation to create or share their works and fandoms slowly grow quiet.

[overdrivels]

Hello! This is a completely optional prompt, being an imagines blog writer myself I know it can get hard doing so much work (seriously though, you're amazing at it!). So I would like to know if you could please write about bodyguard!Reader (maybe from overwatch/blackwatch) taking care of Pre-Cyborg!Shimada Genji? Some angst would be amazing if you could!

I decided to combine the both, I didn’t want to hurt Genji any more than I’m already doing. But first anon, thank you for your encouragement! I also wish you good luck on your blog because yes, it is tough, and you’re tough for doing it! So GOOD ON YOU! And second anon, I’m not going to hit anyone. Just myself. In the heart. With feels. Thank you both for requesting! I hope this is okay.

On Guard 

“I hope my…performance was to your safitacati–satisfaction, Master Shimada.”

Your sonkeigo–polite Japanese–was clumsy on your lips, spilling forth like water against a steep bed of uneven rocks as you made your report to Shimada Sojiro. The man was regal even when wearing little more than the equivalent of pajamas–jinbei, you later remember–and a happi over his shoulders. Beside him were his two heirs–Hanzo and Genji Shimada. Surrounding you are your future colleagues, dressed in the same suit you were (and some with bandages as an indicator of the ass-whooping you’ve bestowed upon them during your test.)

“In light of your abilities, I will assign you to my son, Genji.” The announcement makes your heart swell and you fight the smile that tries to make it way onto your face–you’re well on your way to completing your mission of infiltration and information gathering. However, the young man in question rolls his eyes and sticks his tongue out for which his brother smacks him in the shoulder for. “The head of his guards, Asahi, will guide you. I expect you both to take care of each other.”

You bow deeply. “I understand, Master Shimada. Thank you for this honor.”

“Peh, don’t be so happy about it, newbie,” your new master calls with almost childish disdain. “We’ll see just how much of an honor it is.”

Patience, it seems, is going to have to be your greatest and most elusive ally.

That was almost three years ago.

In those three years, many things have happened. You went from being a total outcast to being somewhat accepted by the family. It was stressful, to say the least, trying to blend in and at the same time curry the favor of your masters so as to be allowed into their lives in order to gather information useful to Overwatch. Most of the time, you only had scraps of information just shy of useful for a full-fledged investigation.

It also didn’t help that Genji chooses to spend his time outside of his family’s business despite the elders’ insistence that he attend. That didn’t make your job any easier. And as luck would have it, Genji seemed to seek out your company much more frequently by purposefully making your life just that much harder. He seemed to slip out from the attention of his guards more often whenever you’re on duty (you assumed it’s because you were new), and he would have to be wrestled back to the castle (though he’d return with you much more willingly than he would with any other guard). He even tries to practice his English with you (it’s much better than your stuttering Japanese).

It’s exhausting, but rewarding especially when Shimada Sojiro nods at you in passing with a “Good work”, and Hanzo, usually following behind at arms length, mimics him. Sometimes you even overhear Hanzo scolding his brother behind closed doors, telling him not to give you so much trouble (he gives you even more trouble as a result, but relents easily when caught). But to see Genji look at you in surprise when you insist on bandaging injuries he’s gotten from training or to force him to eat healthy food, it’s almost enough to make you forget your mission and just immerse yourself in the fact that you’ve more-or-less become invested in this family.

Not that you can admit that to yourself nor tell it to your superiors back home.

“I truly believe…that you should acost–accompany your father and brother to the–these meetings,” you tell him as you drag him back from another night in town, lipstick marks plastered all over his cheeks like trophies. “You’re an adult, and I’d like to see other people see you more positively.”

“Whatever, ‘mother’.” He doesn’t make it easy for you, dragging his heels and waving at the shopkeeps who see him (”Got caught again, huh, sonny?” “Don’t go making trouble for your father, now!” “Gen-chan, my wife’s made some pickled vegetables! Come by and get some when you’re free, okay?”).

You try not to smile. Even though he causes you such trouble, the people of the town seem to like him enough. It’s hard to believe that such a person would have to have his hand in arms-dealing and adding to the chaos that envelopes the world.

“The townspeople like you a lot already. Would it–would it be so difficult to be the same way to your family?” It becomes easier to pull Genji along, a contemplative silence blanketing you both.

Finally, he says, “…I’ll think about it.”

“I’m happy to see you at lost–least considering it. I’m proud of you, Shimada-sama.”

You don’t even have to turn around to know he’s beaming like a disco ball. He loves being praised by those close to him–the very image of a spoiled child, but it’s endearing nonetheless.

“But first, we have to do something about your green hair.”

“Hey! I like my hair! How about we dye your’s green, huh?”

Sometime after that, Genji began to show initiative into his family’s life, asking a wayward question here and there, pretending to look at the ledgers rather than outright throw them on the floor and leave.

You were sure the head of Genji’s guards, Asahi, wept a little when he saw his young master willingly attend a clan meeting. Granted, you were not allowed in the room, but that was a start. And you couldn’t wait to tell your boss about it.

After the meeting, you can see Hanzo nod at his brother in approval (it’s the first time since you’ve been here since you’ve seen such a thing), and Shimada Sojiro patting his youngest son on the back (Genji never looked more ecstatic), and the elders actually look at Genji like he’s not trash when they exit, making small conversation. However, when Genji catches sight of you, he marches up, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“So, do you see me in a better light, now?”

He has his fists on his hips, and chest puffed. You cough into your hand to hide your smile.

“You’re a hundred years too early to…what’s the word…be impressing me with such shallow conversatio–conviction, Shimada-sama. But I will admit, the suit looks good.”

You turn around too quickly to see that you have struck him speechless. You are pleased to see that he seems to be growing well and that would soon make your mission that much easier.

As with all things however, it couldn’t have lasted.

Shimada Sojiro dies shortly after the beginning of your fourth year with the Shimadas (natural causes, supposedly), and Genji did not handle it well (you have a broken leg and a ruined tear-stained shirt to prove it after a frenzied and deeply-emotional chase). The wake is even more of a mess–Genji doesn’t even bother attending and Asahi needed your help (disabled as you were) to seek him out in the heavy spring rain.

‘It’ll be fine,’ you try to tell yourself.

Genji may have been a loose canon and uninterested in familial responsibilities of the illicit sort up until recently, but you know from watching over him that he’s the type who can do anything if he puts his mind to it. He’s a kind person, a bit childish and self-centered, perhaps, but he’s reliable when you really need him. You’re sure these three years of waiting and serving the Shimada clan would have been worth it.

You carry on your duties believing that. Whereas Hanzo is immediately ascended to the proverbial throne and embroiled in countless meetings without even a day to mourn, Genji takes his time, hiding from his retainers. Only occassionally will he open himself up to yourself or Asahi, looking more and more tired with each passing day. He barely even goes out anymore, rendering your role practically useless.

You can only give him words of encouragement through the shoji doors, which you don’t even know if he hears.

Days turned into weeks. If anything, Genji proved to be more lackadaisical than ever. But you refuse to let your hope wane even when the rest of the clan begins to lose hope, meeting invitations to formal functions becoming less and less and Genji becomes more and more isolated from his family.

Your patience pays off when Genji finally looks at an invitation to a dinner party that would undoubtedly lead to a conversation of the more illegal variety.

Genji shrugs on his hoodie, a telltale sign that he plans to hit the town rather than go to this important clan meeting. You try to keep your voice steady and pretend as though you’re asking as a matter of duty and not because you really need to this happen. “Should you not…join your brother in these meetings? I believe this one is with several important Shimada alibis–no–allies and your brother has requested your presence.”

Genji laughs sharply, startling you. “Bullshit. I’m not interested in that stuff. All they talk about is expanding the empire and shit. They don’t care–my brother won’t care–if I’m there or not. So I won’t either.”

Something in the back of your mind cracks, and you couldn’t contain the sound of frustration that breaks from your throat. Genji slips out of the room through the window, unaware (or purposefully ignoring) your anger. You chase after him more out of habit than free will, mind going numb at your realization. The chase goes on for most of the day, and he makes himself harder to spot and catch than usual. Genji is dragged home pouting and whining by yourself and the head of Genji’s guards, Asahi. It takes everything in you not to dump him right on the porch of Shimada castle and leave for good. No, you had to at least inform your boss of your findings.

It’s late at night when you swap out your Shimada-issued earpiece for your Blackwatch one. A small wave of irritation waxes and wanes with every second you’re kept on hold, until finally, you hear the smooth voice of Gabriel Reyes in your ear.

“Your report isn’t due for another week, what’s your emergency? Or are you home sick?”

“Boss.” If you weren’t so irate, you would’ve been glad to hear proper English again. “The mission, it’s a bust. These past three years have been a total fucking waste of time.”

You can practically hear him straightening up in his seat, crossing his arms and leaning on the table with renewed interest and mild concern. “Explain yourself.”

You take a deep, shuddering breath. The words are shoved forcefully through clenched teeth,  “I’m with the wrong Shimada.”

You stare blankly at the night scenery of Hanamura. Your conversation with Gabriel has left you weary. What has the past three years been for? You both discussed the possibility of becoming Hanzo’s retainer or one of the guards of the oligarchy that controls the Shimada clan from the shadows, but that idea was quickly shot down. Knowing the internal politics, you were lucky to have been even considered for the role of protecting the so-called backup heir. As long as Genji remains obstinate in his distance, your mission would never be complete.

Gabriel, ever the sore-loser, argued against calling off the mission, still believing in the possibility of a lead. You did, too, once. And now, you just wanted it to end. After much arguing, you were allowed to leave your post–you will return to Blackwatch in a week. With no results to show for it.

Your body sags under the weight of failure. A voice suddenly behind you jolts you straight back to attention. Genji. Once of the rarer times he’s out of his room. He looks barely presentable–dark bags underneath his eyes, and just a little bit ruffled.

“I want to talk to you, come.” He didn’t wait for you to agree, fully expecting you to follow.

Even if you planned on leaving, you figured you might as well continue fulfilling your duties until the very end. So you follow the young master into a private room, usually reserved for distinguished guests, far away from the rest of the compound.

You shouldn’t be as suprised as you were when Genji sits you down on the floor and brings out little cups and a large bottle of sake. He just wants a drinking buddy. In your current mood, you’re careful not to drink–you never know what might slip from your lips.

But Genji is not so careful, freely talking about everything and anything that comes to mind until he hits on what seems to be the root cause of this impromptu drinking session.

“I know that they assigned a foreigner to me because they don’t care what happens to me,” The smile on Genji’s face is bitter, and he slams back another cup of sake with such force, it’s as though he’s trying to kill those thoughts by alcohol alone.

You open your mouth to deny his claims, but the words are stuck in your throat when you see the look he gives you. A worn smile, exhausted from years of pretending and defiance. You swallow whatever empty words come to mind.

“But I’m glad,” he says suddenly,. “Because you don’t treat me like that. You treat me like I’m me and not some piece of garbage that people are obligated to be near.” Genji ducks his head, voice smaller now. “So, um, thank you. For everything. You’re the one other person I can really trust around here, and uh, sorry. About your leg.”

He pats it right where the break was, gentle and sorrowful, like a kid trying to make up for their mistake.

Guilt sneaks into your chest, coiling around your insides uncomfortably when the words you’ve spoken to your superior not so long ago return to the surface with a taunting vengeance.

“I’m with the wrong Shimada.”

You return a shaky smile. “Think nothing of it, Shimada-sama.”

He returns the gesture with a dopey one of his own, loose with alcohol. “When we’re alone, you can call me Genji.”

Your heart nearly stops. The uncomfortable feeling erodes at something inside you. Nausea floods your stomach, but Genji does not seem to notice, eagerly shoving a small cup into your trembling hands. “Now drink! To our friendship!”

This is going to be a long, painful week.