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wolf-and-bard · 4 years ago

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So, I wrote a Lambert x Aiden thing because of a conversation I had with @littoraly-art, so here we go. It’s hurt/comfort, but very much on the angsty side.

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: explicit language, (brief) mentions of self-harming behaviour

You can also read it on AO3 if you want to

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The hunt didn’t go according to plan. Lambert underestimated the amount of ghouls that would crawl out of that shithole and fought them well into the night, dodging and striking, dodging and striking for hours on end. They chased him through the forest and branches whipped at him. More than once, did he narrowly escape their bites and when they were dealt with and he stumbled back to light a bomb in the nest, he wasn’t fast enough on the retreat. His ears still ring and white spots dance at the margins of his vision. Lambert only notices that he’s overdosed on Thunderbolt when he’s already back at the inn he booked for the night, two ales down, and his muscles are still taut, ready to strike, while his sense of self-preservation has plummeted. Fuck. His fingers shake as he gestures for another drink. Sweat gathers at his collar, at the small of his back. He wants to sleep and rest, but he won’t be able to, not with the residue adrenaline.

“Lambert?” someone says and Lambert hunches his shoulders. Maybe if he hides his face, he won’t be recognized. But Aiden’s already emerged from the crowd and, anyway, he would have smelled Lambert the moment he set foot into the building.

“It is you!” Aiden saunters over, all neat bun and scandalously tight gear, his brown hair looking almost black in the downcast light of the inn. His smile is brilliant as he takes the chair opposite Lambert. Takes Lambert’s hands and inspects them for wounds before bringing them to his lips. “Hey, there, pup,” he murmurs against Lambert’s knuckles. Lambert’s heart does skip a beat, but with that comes a flare of anger. Aiden doesn’t get to be lovey and cheerful when Lambert wants to crawl out of his own skin. He hums something indiscernible.

“What is it? Talk to me.”

“Nothing.”

“Oh, really? Alright, if that’s how you want to play it,” Aiden says mockingly, letting Lambert’s hands go. “What? Oh, yes, it is good to see me, isn’t it? How I am? I’m so glad you asked. I managed to haggle a big fat fee on a rock troll couple that were mating up in the mountains and causing avalanches and now I’m drowning in coin. Pretty crazy, right? If I made it okay? Aww, sweetie, there’s no need to worry. Haven’t got a scratch on me. You wanna hear more about it? No, of course it isn’t too much to ask, I will happily oblige.”

"Just... leave me alone," Lambert cuts in, and lifts his tankard to veil his face. He's good at hiding his emotion, but in the face of whatever this is and with the day he's had... well, his boundaries are more than probed.

“What? So, you can give yourself a sorry hand-job and cry yourself to sleep? No, sir, that would be incredibly pathetic and a crime against humanity.” Aiden smiles and before Lambert can keep drinking, he’s snatched the tankard away and emptied it himself. Great. Now there isn’t even that to hide behind. Lambert likes Aiden, he really does. On most occasions, he’s so overjoyed to see him that he doesn’t recognize himself. Aiden makes him feel… too many things to think about right now. Today though, Lambert’d rather be alone.

“None of your business.”

"Fine, have it your way" Aiden says with a good-natured shrug and, humming, stands. He makes a beeline for the nearest table full of average-to-handsome soldiers with the Temerian blazon on their chests, and slams a hand down on the table. His hips are cocked out, his smile sly, exposing overly sharp canines. They all look up at him with varying degrees of surprise, realisation. “Any of you boys down to fuck a mutant?” Lambert's blood runs cold, he’s had enough of this. He hurls his empty tankard across the room, angling just so he doesn't hit anyone - though no guarantee on the rebound – and leaves.

His armour, clothes and swords are scattered across the small room he rented by the time he makes it into bed, wearing only thin cotton smallclothes. He sits not two minutes, contemplating whether to go asleep or order himself more alcohol to dull the edge of his frustration even further, when Aiden comes into the room, no knock, no courtesy.

“Aren’t you off sucking flaccid cock? Or are you already done the whole lot of them?” Lambert spits, and crosses his arms over his bare chest. Aiden’s eyes darken and he shuts the door behind himself, forceful enough that it rattles, then slips out of his own armour and boots without much ceremony. “Go get your own room, asshole.”

“You know what? Go fuck yourself,” Aiden replies in a measured manner. All his earlier aloofness is gone, replaced by a gravity Lambert has a hard time looking at. Aiden sorts both their stuff into neat piles, then takes Lambert’s swords to the corner chair. Lambert stares at his own knees, but he can hear every tiny movement of Aiden’s hands as he cleans Lambert’s swords, inspects them for chips, pulls out a whetstone to restore their edge. The amount of care this alone conveys almost brings tears to Lambert’s eyes. Aiden could be deep-throating handsome soldiers right now, but instead he’s here, doing for Lambert what he doesn’t have the energy left to do for himself.

When he’s done the swords, Aiden does the same to his own pair, then examines the two sets of armour plating for tears or gashes that need mending. He lines up both chests of potions and counts out what’s missing, takes notes for ingredients. It’s a normal routine, only that usually, each witcher does it for himself. Lambert feels a mixture of embarrassment and affection heat his cheeks, but he doesn’t look up, not yet. Only when Aiden finishes with a soft exhale and wanders over to the bed which dips under his weight, does Lambert uncross his arms. Dares to take a peek. Fuck. He shouldn’t have. Aiden’s pupils are wide in the starlight that falls through the single window, the moon painting him in blues and silvers. Some of his hair has escaped his bun and his lips part on a sigh that expose his teeth. He’s a fucking vision, too gorgeous to be sitting here.

For once, there is quiet, so rare with the two of them. If Lambert lets go of consciousness a little more, it almost feels like a dream. If it were, he would reach out, draw Aiden onto his lap, lose himself in the familiar glide of their bodies against one another. As it is, the silence hangs by a thread and Lambert cuts it, edges fraying into dust between them.

“What,” he barks and Aiden sighs again.

“The only cock I want to suck is yours, idiot. Flaccid or not.

“Is that so?”

“Yes? I thought I had made that abundantly clear.” Aiden has. There have probably been more blowjobs than nights they shared a bed, altogether. And maybe that’s the problem. Aiden might not seem it now, but one day Lambert’s cock will not be enough to make up for his mouth.

"Why were you so obnoxious then?" he asks.

"Because you need to learn not to push me away, Lamb. I'm here, I understand, I'm yours." Three quick sentences that puncture Lambert like barbed arrows. I'm here feels like sparks of an off-kilter Igni that eat at his fingertips. I understand goes right to his gut and makes him feel like he is out on the rocky sea, in a rickety boat all by himself, at the storm's mercy. I'm yours is the lightning that strikes then and short-circuits his nervous system into small spams. He takes a deep breath and the soft kiss Aiden places on the corner of his mouth when he leans over helps quell the panic. "I can't change how I am," he says. Prickly, loud-mouthed, mean.

"You really aren't... no, that's not gonna work, is it? C’mere." Aiden crawls over the bed and settles next to Lambert, draws him against him, his strong arms wrapped firmly around Lambert's bare chest. Lambert's head is throbbing lightly, heartrate kept accelerated from the alcohol, but he deflates a little. Notices the small vial with almost clear liquid Aiden is holding between his index and middle finger. “You didn’t drink it, did you?”

Lambert shrugs. So, maybe he forgot to take the White Honey, fucked-up as he was. So, maybe he didn’t want to take it, stay fucked-up a little longer. He has days like this, where the lingering toxicity of the potions stokes some dark flame deep inside of him, kindled by his hatred for what he is, what he has become. Lambert isn’t prone to self-harm, but this, well. This he is prone to and Aiden is seeing right through him. Fucking cat, fucking.... is this love yet?

“I didn’t.”

“So, do it now.” Aiden uncorks the bottle with one hand and his grip on Lambert tightens so that he would have to struggle to escape it. For a moment, Lambert thinks about refusing. He wants to wallow, dammit, he wants to pity himself and maybe have Aiden pity him too. “Don’t think about it, pup. You can bullshit your way around other people, but not around me,” Aiden continues and holds the vial to Lambert’s lips. Lambert snatches it away and empties it in two long drags. Immediately, his vision sharpens and his lungs clear. His muscles stop trembling and his heartrate settles into its normal, mutated rhythm. “Better?”

“Better,” Lambert agrees sulkily. He tosses the vial aside and sinks back against Aiden.

“You’re really stupid sometimes, you know that?” Aiden says with a sharp edge to his voice, but he noses at Lambert’s ear, under it, breath hot over the skin of Lambert’s throat.

“You’re the one that’s stupid…” Stupid for caring for me. Stupid for still being here.

“Will you stop it already? I’m trying so hard to be patient and you keep pushing me away. Did you forget who I am? What we share?”

“I didn’t,” Lambert says. He is weak and tired. He lets Aiden tug at his chin and half-turn him for a kiss that lingers even after their lips part for breath.

“Then drop the farce. Fuck, I don’t know what to say to you,” Aiden whispers against his mouth, chasing each word with a kiss to Lambert’s lips, the corners of his mouth, his nose. “I love you, Lambert, I love you so fucking much, but I can’t keep prying you out of your shell. Don’t you trust me?”

I want to love you too, Lambert thinks.

With my life, Lambert thinks.

You’re the best person I’ve ever met, Lambert thinks.

But he isn’t ready for that yet and so he settles for the next best thing: “I’m sorry.” The rest of it he pours into their next kiss, one that feels frozen in time for how slow and indulgent it is, the world reduced to the drag of their lips and the scratch of Aiden’s canines, the stuttering of his breath. Lambert wriggles around until he straddles Aiden’s lap with his thighs and frames Aiden’s tanned face with his scarred, pale fingers. Even paler next to his lover. Aiden fucking glows and Lambert is less a man, more a phantom next to him.

“Fuck, puppy, you’re so beautiful, do you know that?” Aiden gasps when they part once more. His hands are splayed over Lambert’s upper back and they are both half-hard against one another, but Lambert doesn’t feel like sex. He feels like curling up and having a good cry. He feels like kissing Aiden again, and so he does.

“And here I am, trying so hard to hide it so you peasants don’t feel bad about yourselves,” Lambert says, on instinct more than anything else. He wants to slap himself, this is exactly what Aiden meant, isn’t it? But Aiden laughs, the fucker, a clear sound that sets loose something fluttery inside of Lambert. Shit. It is love. “I thought the scar would have done the job.”

“Joke’s on you, I adore the scar.” Aiden presses his lips to the bottom of it and drags them along, skipping Lambert’s eye in favour of nuzzling his forehead. It’s ridiculous. It tickles. Lambert laughs and hides his face in Aiden’s neck. Aiden sighs and his hands wander up to Lambert’s head, cradling it. “Promise me something, pup?”

Anything, Lambert thinks. He grunts.

“Allow yourself this. I don’t need you to fall onto your knees and profess your love in some grand gesture, but… don’t shut me out. Okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Thank you.”

Lambert falls asleep like that, tucked against Aiden’s chest and he wakes in the morning facing the sunrise with an arm slung around his bare torso and Aiden’s nose pressed against the nape of his neck. He allows it to last.

#the witcher #witcher #tw3 #lambden #laiden #lambert x aiden #lambert #aiden #hurt #comfort #angst #the line about flaccid cock is inspired by a line in the game #bonus points if you know which one #cw swear words #cw self deprecation #cw self harm #my writing #fic

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ravenadottir · 4 years ago

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What do you think Kassam’s route would have been like if he had been one of the og boys, and how would his character have developed

my guy, i think i had a braingasm the moment i saw this ask! this is such a cool galaxy brain question, i can’t even...

‘cause i think so much about the possibility of kassam as an og, it’s actually ridiculous!! but in order to put him on day 1, i would have to put one of the boys in casa amor, and i’m choosing gary. that’s because lottie is gonna take interest in kassam right away. let me organize these thoughts in order of happenings in the villa...

♪ when mc steps outside, he’s lowkey interested, but he keeps his hands behind his back, only giving her a nod, accompanied by a smirk, when she says hi.

♪ “if any of you fancy me, please step forward.” kassam would be discreetly stepping forward, shooting her a neutral look, since he doesn’t want to come across as desperate, but a wink is also happening.

♪ “why did you step forward, kassam?” “i think we’re gonna hit it off, and you seem like a real sound girl.” bobby would say something like “ha! get it, because he’s a dj!” and laugh, but the prickly boy wouldn’t even look at him, focusing on mc.

♪ if mc chose to couple up with him, he would stand by her side, whispering his conversation, slightly analyzing the other boys.

♪ when lottie struts out, not gonna lie, he’s gonna think she’s attractive, but maybe a little intimidating. i do believe if she stole him (which i very much want to do here, since it’s an o.g kassam route), he’ll be standing next to her, but glancing at mc’s direction.

♪ the truth or dare challenge would probably be the opportunity to send him the picture, but if mc decided to kiss her partner i think that would “scare” kassam a bit. just because i don’t think he’s into p.d.a.

♪ he would have a lot of trouble relating/talking to anyone, because he automatically hates rocco, and for sure has some issues with how much rocco and bobby talk. which leads me to believe he would be closer to noah and ibrahim. (IT’S SO FREAKY TO THINK ABOUT THAT!!).

♪ priya is still gonna steal mc’s partner, which is not a big deal because she’s more interested in kassam than anyone else.

♪ kassam having more time in the villa means he’s also gonna open up to mc, eventually, and i think that’s what i wanted the most in casa amor. something to make us understand why he’s been closed up and extremely on edge at all times, like having the ear tick, the nerves, the quietness, if there’s anything to be talked about, mc would be person he would go to.

♪ music is probably what helps him relax, and right now he’s deprived of that, in every instance, so if the game wanted me to pay gems to bang some pots and do the glasses’ rim trick with him, i would a hundred percent be paying for that!

♪ bobby being musical himself would definitely blossom a connection between them. something that would make him a little fonder of cake boy. “i was wrong to judge you so fast, i guess.” and this could’ve been the “rap gang” throwback to season 1, having kassam doing beats, bobby doing the harmony, probably ibrahim rapping nonsense along with mc, and getting weird lines out of it! i would pay gems every time, i don’t care how much that would cost!

♪ as the recoupling approaches, kassam says he wants to couple up with us, but because bobby and he weren’t so close, the pastry chef has no idea of the dj’s intentions, proceeding to pick us.

♪ bobby’s choice forces kassam to choose between marisol and hannah, and going for the law student would be the obvious pick. but so much more awkward than gary’s was, because kassam wouldn’t try to hide the fact that he’s into someone else.

♪ marisol and kassam would be a friendship couple from the get go, because they have nothing in common, and that would probably make marisol realize her attraction towards rocco earlier.

♪ i do believe kassam would’ve been a cheeky sort, not the type that gary is, but definitely sneaking around to steal a kiss or two. “i don’t know what’s happening to me. i wouldn’t usually do this...” he smiles, almost not noticing it. “... but i feel close to you... it’s weird...”

“wow, kassam, thanks...”

“no, no i don’t mean like that... i’m just not used to it. you’re not the weird part of all this.”

“and what is?”

“me...” he proceeds to laugh uncomfortably.

♪ twitter bingo would have a fact about him, possibly a secret kiss, but it’s not revealed who he had it with.

♪ mr. love island. his “swimsuit” portion would be similar to lucas’, flexing his arms once he gets out of the pool, direct advice from noah, rahim and bobby. his talent would definitely include music in, possibly doing those beatbox tricks with two or three layers of sound... maybe even the low bass voice, which it’s honestly... SO FUCKING HOT. it would be a tough competition. between ibrahim doing the rubik’s cube trick shirtless, and kassam doing this... i don’t think noah or bobby would stand a chance!

♪ roccosol is still happening, and kassam is baffled by how much lottie is lying through her teeth, and shouting about the matter, since she was already talking to him behind rocco’s back. remember the welcome party for lucas and henrik? which would also mean kassam doesn’t take much heat from food/drinks, and that’s funny to me, for some reason!

♪ i do think instead of rahim, kassam would’ve been voted as “least dateable/leaving the show with a girlfriend. not endangered like lucas/henrik/rocco, but definitely voted. mc having the opportunity of the firepit conversation would end up in a kiss, and the angst is just taken on a new level!

♪ the date with him, before the recoupling on day 9, would be the chance we have to get to know him better, maybe having him tell us an embarrassing story about a gig he had. and if it was an ex’s story, even better! we don’t have that from him.

♪ hideaway scene, after the girls’ choice, would have him slightly less confident than he usually is. “i’m really excited to be here with you, i just don’t know exactly what to do.”

“i mean, if you don’t know, i don’t think i can get a biology book here.”

he would probably chuck a pillow in your direction and laugh at your joke. “i’m just nervous, i guess... i’m not used to feeling nervous around girls.”

♪ now! here’s the tricky part of the whole villa plotline in his route. operation nope. if mc went with it, he would end things, loudly and clearly, because he cannot stand betrayal, much less coming from the girl he spent so many days chasing. and he would probably advise MC to tell hope about it before it happened. kassam should be the type that breaks up with you and don’t want you back, later. i would definitely program him to act like that!

♪ drama to him is pointless, especially if it involves other people. he doesn’t see why people are being so out there about things, and definitely doesn’t understand why his girl has to be the one to solve everything. “i understand they’re upset but it’s not your job to fix it.”

♪ chelsea coming in, along with jakub, would irritate him to the extreme. the bomb she drops about him and lottie would have everyone riled up. YES, I WANT KASSAM TO KISS LOTTIE. they were coupled up before and he thinks she’s hot, besides the fact he was insecure about mc being picked by bobby. similar plot line to gary’s, except he might say something like “i had to know if there was anything there.” i really want him to explain himself here, but with short words: “we were coupled up just an hour before the recoupling. i wanted to make sure there was nothing there.”

“and...?” mc asks, staring at him.

he glances at lottie, shrugging. “there isn’t.”

♪ as revenge, mc would go on the date with jakub, resulting in kassam being apprehensive when it comes to talk about his feelings to her. and very angry and jealous, because that’s just who he is!

♪ the news about the recoupling arrive the night priya and hope are having that big fight, and yes, the bathroom scene happens with kassam, but he’s one of the boys that say the line “i want this to mean something to you”.

♪ disaster recoupling gets you both angry, and kassam would, for the first time, raise his voice, questioning jakub and the boy who steals mc. no, he wouldn’t be like the others and only question jakub or no one. at that point, everything is working against him, and just two days after mc finds out about the secret kiss, this is throwing him into a spiral of stress.

♪ casa amor gets everyone pissed off, and everything stays the same, except you get gary instead of kassam, and he’s interested in lottie and mc. (maybe the unicorn route wouldn’t happen). but casa days would’ve been way more interesting because now marisol and lottie are interested in the same guy! and in some cases, mc as well lol NOW, THAT WOULD’VE MADE CASA INTERESTING!

♪ cheeky the way gary is, he’s probably trying to stick with one girl by suggesting a kiss, sharing the bed and etc, but if mc is not interested in him, lottie would probably be torn about bringing him back or not, and marisol would get confused between gary and graham, proceeding to focus on fish boy, later.

♪ coming back from casa amor, kassam is single, and you get bean bags conversation, only with him he says how anxious he was for mc to come back. “i’m just... really glad you’re here. i...” he stammers a bit. “i missed you.”

“did you miss lottie too?” mc would raise her brows, slightly irritated.

“no, of course not! i missed...” realizing she’s being prickly, just like him, he continues. “har, har... very funny.”

“i didn’t think it was funny finding out you kissed her.”

“i wouldn’t think that either... i’m sorry i didn’t tell you.”

♪ the route is pretty much the same from there, except for a couple of moments:

one: the conversation we have with gary, by the pool, is held by kassam, and he talks about anxiety, and how that affected his relationships in the past. he didn’t know how much he missed out because he was too afraid of taking the leap, and he’s glad he’s in a better place now. also, talking about therapy and mental illness in the same tone gary did, with body issues.

two: he would make a comment of how excited he is to write songs about mc, and how much he has been thinking of his journey and the album he’s gonna dedicate to his time there.

♪ asking mc to be his girlfriend would go a little differently, since he’s not the blob of characterization he normally becomes in the game.

♪ he would continue to be prickly, and sarcastic, but his journey would’ve taught him how to trust people more, and the improbable friendships he developed there would go to show just how much he’s opening up, and how it can only get better from there.

♪ his speech, at the prom, would include his friends, mentioning them as the support system he had in there, just like one of the girls do with mc. “my journey wouldn’t have been the same if it wasn’t for you lads. and despite the bad advice i got, i guess everything worked out in the end.”

i really think kassam deserved a spot in the og’s line up, mostly because of how different he is from the other boys. he would probably have a brief friendship with lucas if the physiotherapist stayed, too.

hope this is what you were looking for. thank you so much for this ask!

#litg kassam #litg #love island the game #love island the game season 2 #litg s2 #litg season 2 #fusebox #fusebox games #queue #alternative routes

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melanielocke · 3 years ago

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Lost in the Shadows - chapter 5

AO3

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

CW: mentions of PTSD, mentions of alcoholism and past abuse, mentions of past toxic relationship

Taglist @nott-the-best @foxglove-airmid @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @justanormaldemon

The thick fog that hovered above the ground made the forest seem like the scenery out of a gothic movie. Not that Alastair minded, he felt at home among the trees, in the darkness. He and Thomas had met after breakfast before Lucie or Cordelia had woken. Alastair had always been an early riser and he was glad to see Thomas was too. More than that, though, Alastair was a poor sleeper. He had frequent nightmares and so far he’d found nothing that helped. Not even his stuffed hedgehog, which he was ashamed to admit he still slept with.

‘Look. Over there,’ Thomas pointed, his finger aimed at the ground.

Alastair followed his gaze and saw a small hedgehog, walking along the shrubs. Hedgehogs were nocturnal creatures, he knew, it wasn’t common to see them during the day, even in early morning. It was adorable.

‘Aw. I love hedgehogs, they are my favorite animals,’ Alastair said with a small smile that was rare these days.

‘They suit you,’ Thomas agreed.

‘How exactly?’ Alastair asked.

‘Well, you’re prickly and need to be handled with care or you’ll sting, but when you can look past that you’re actually adorable.’

Thomas’ cheeks flushed a dark red. ‘What I mean is,’ he began, but Alastair interrupted him with a grin.

‘Adorable, huh?’ he said.

‘I guess so,’ Thomas said. ‘Cordelia told me you still sleep with your stuffed animals. She said your favorite is a hedgehog.’

‘Little traitor,’ Alastair said.

‘I sleep with mine too,’ Thomas admitted. ‘It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I have several owls. I just sleep more comfortable that way. I need something to hold on to.’

He was surprised Thomas didn’t judge him. He felt his father would have, had he known, but he’d been too drunk to notice.

Alastair’s smile returned. ‘Now that is adorable. To tell you the truth, I keep mine around to protect me from nightmares.’

Thomas frowned. ‘Does that work?’

‘Not really. But at least holding onto something helps me relax enough to fall asleep.’

He could lie awake at night sometimes. Lately, Alastair was always tired. He did what was expected of him during the day, but he never felt rested or energetic. Even after a long night sleep with minimal nightmares, he woke tired and staying in bed didn’t help.

They talked about all sorts of topics, history, books they read, what Alastair’s first year at university had been like. Thomas told him about previous summers, which they’d usually spent in Spain. He’d spent enough time there to be fluent in Spanish now, partially because his parents had studied there and his father liked to speak Spanish at home. Alastair was surprised how easy conversing with Thomas was. He’d always struggled with making small talk, with keeping the conversation going, but Thomas didn’t shy away from more serious topics and seemed genuinely interested in what Alastair had to say.

He and Thomas continued their walk, and Alastair could tell something was bothering Thomas. He was tense, his shoulders a bit hunched. Alastair had learnt to sense when people were anxious or tense and tended to get nervous himself whenever that happened. He wondered if he’d always been hypersensitive to other people’s moods, or if he’d learnt after having to anticipate his father’s moods and then Charles’ for such a long time. He narrated a description of his surroundings to himself in an attempt to ground him in reality, to calm down enough that he could help and support Thomas. He felt useless, what was the point in being able to read people if their anxiety bothered him so much?

‘Are you alright?’ Alastair asked after a silence.

‘Why do you ask?’ Thomas asked, his voice uneven.

‘Because you seem anxious about something. Is it about me? Are you still mad about what happened at school?’

Alastair had always been more tolerant around Thomas himself, but he’d treated Thomas’ friends awfully. All he felt right now was a horrible guilt and regret for what he’d done. For how he’d justified his actions, telling himself that it was better than being bullied, that what he did wasn’t as bad as what other students had done to him. All empty excuses, and it had never been alright.

‘It’s not about you,’ Thomas said. ‘And I’m not mad. I can’t say I understand why you did it, but I know you were going through some difficult times. Besides, it happened so long ago. James and Matthew are still upset, I think. But they’re not here. I don’t think Matthew would like it much here anyway. He prefers to spend his holidays shopping and drinking at bars until late night.’

Alastair tensed a bit when Thomas’ mentioned Matthew’s drinking the way he always did when alcohol was mentioned. Once he’d been able to take care of his drunk father with little emotion, pushing everything to the bottom until he was sure his father was alright and Cordelia wouldn’t discover he wasn’t ill. Nowadays even mentions of alcohol or drinking tended to make him feel sick, as if an invisible hand was clutching at his stomach, at his heart. Just breathe, he told himself.

‘Oh shit, I’m sorry,’ Thomas said. ‘I’m not supposed to mention alcohol around you, am I?’

Alastair sighed. ‘I take it everyone knows, then?’

Alastair still found it difficult when people knew about his disorder. It was difficult to ask for adjustments, to admit a weakness and ask people to not drink in his presence, to ask people to change their own behavior for his sake. He knew most people wouldn’t be willing to do that, and he’d much rather not ask and pretend everything was fine. But eventually he’d had to admit to himself he just couldn’t handle being around people drinking and alcohol was so normalized in Britain it was difficult to avoid sometimes.

‘Not the particulars,’ Thomas admitted. ‘But Mr. Herondale warned us that we shouldn’t drink, nor discuss alcohol when you’re there.’

‘It’s fine,’ Alastair said. ‘As long as I don’t see you drink, or smell it on you, it’s fine.’

People talking about alcohol could be difficult, but he could manage. He would. Matthew Fairchild was across the sea, and him drinking alcohol didn’t harm Alastair. It wasn’t his problem.

‘You don’t seem fine.’

‘It’s not easy, but it’s alright. I can handle mentions of drinking,’ Alastair said.

He hated how some people who knew about his diagnosis had started to walk on eggshells around him, like he was a bomb that would explode the moment someone said something wrong. It made him feel like he was fragile, broken, like there was something horribly wrong with him, when Alastair desperately tried to convince himself that wasn’t true. Deep down, he knew it was true though. He knew there was something wrong with him and that he wasn’t normal and would never be.

‘You don’t have to,’ Thomas said. ‘Look, I don’t think you want to talk about it and you don’t have to. But if you want to talk… I’m here for you, alright? I can promise I am a good listener.’

Alastair nodded. ‘You still haven’t told me what’s bothering you,’ he said in an attempt to deflect.

Alastair took a sip out of the flask of water he’d taken to carrying with him. Ever since starting paroxetine, he often had a dry mouth. He’d also gained some weight. Risa in particular was very happy with that development. Before starting his medication he’d been underweight, often unable to eat because of his nerves. Aunt Risa had worried about his weight loss, and had been very happy when he had started eating again and gotten back at a normal weight.

Apart from that no side effects, and Alastair was mostly glad his medication didn’t cause any sexual dysfunction because he’d heard that happened sometimes. Even if he didn’t have a boyfriend now, he guessed he wanted one someday. He tried to ignore the voice in his head, reminding him that no one would want to be his boyfriend, that he wasn’t worth the effort. Charles had often told him he was difficult to love, that other people wouldn’t bother, and Alastair had believed him. Part of him still did.

The effect taking antidepressants had was only partial, paroxetine on its own wasn’t enough to treat PTSD, but when it came to this specific disorder it was the most effective out of all antidepressants. Alastair had agreed to give it a try. Two months in, it was definitely better than nothing and he had more good days, but he hoped the EMDR treatment he would be starting after the summer was more effective.

‘It’s something that happened yesterday,’ Thomas admitted. ‘I’m not sure I should tell you.’

‘You can trust me to keep your secret,’ Alastair promised. ‘But you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.’

‘You know your cousin Jem used to fight the evil creatures of the supernatural, right?’ Thomas asked. ‘And your father too, before…’

Before he’d started drinking. People who knew about his father’s past as a hero sometimes said it was the price he’d had to pay, for seeing so many horrors and fighting for so long. Alastair hated it, it made him want to scream. What about the price I had to pay?

It was what had set him off when Jem had come over for dinner, not aware that anything was wrong with him. His cousin had talked about the struggles of life as a hero, the effects it could have on someone. Later, Alastair had learned his mother had become so desperate she’d confessed Elias’ addiction to Jem and had asked him if he could convince him to seek treatment.

Jem had agreed, and had used Elias’ past heroism as a gentle way to bring up the problem, but Alastair had felt as if Jem was trying to justify his father’s addiction and by extension what he’d put his family through. He’d screamed at Jem, at his father, at everyone present really. What about the people surrounding such a person? What about the people who were hurt when a hero’s burden became too much, did they not matter? Horrified at his own outburst, Alastair had ran to his room and attempted to calm himself by putting on Metallica and turning up the volume until he could block everything else out. When Jem had come upstairs, Alastair had expected him to be angry. Instead, Jem had been worried. It was the first time someone had realized his moodiness wasn’t just a “turbulent adolescence”, as his parents had long thought.

‘Yes,’ Alastair said. ‘When I was younger, my father would tell me stories about the creatures he’d fought and defeated.’

Once he’d loved listening to his father’s stories. Once he had sat down in his father’s lap and asked him to tell him about the incubus in Greece, or the kelpie in Scotland. Now he only wondered if his father had been drinking already back then. He wasn’t sure when it had gotten out of hand.

‘Well, I can see them. What I mean is, I have gift that makes it so I can see anything without having to learn at all. My mother and my oldest sister Barbara have the same gift.’

Alastair nodded. ‘So does my aunt Risa,’ he said. ‘She taught me and Cordelia how to see.’

There had been times in his life where he’d felt like Risa was the only person who cared about him. He hadn’t dared tell her about his father’s alcoholism, desperate to keep his family together and in one piece, but she’d been there when he needed her. No one else had done that for him. She used to take him to see the gnomes play in parks, since she didn’t have a garden of her own. She used to cook and bake in her kitchen with him. Risa was a cook in a local Iranian restaurant and had taught him everything she knew about making good food.

‘Yesterday, I walked into the woods and I encountered the washing woman. They say seeing her is an omen of death, although in my case it could just be that she didn’t intend for me to see her, but with my gift I see her anyway.’

‘I’ve heard of such creatures,’ Alastair said. ‘You must not approach or they might attack and paralyze your legs. But if you can sneak up on them, they are said to grant a wish.’

Alastair thought not so long ago he would have given it a try if he’d seen such a woman. He might have asked her to fix his family, or at least fix his father’s alcoholism. Nowadays, he wasn’t sure what he’d ask for. Fixing his father’s alcoholism wouldn’t cure his PTSD, it wouldn’t allow him to love or trust his father again, wouldn’t erase the past years. Perhaps he would ask for a cure for his PTSD, but he didn’t think such a thing existed, he wasn’t sure what exactly the result of such a wish would be. Nor did he know who his father would be without his addiction. He did not think his father would love him sober either. The best he could hope for was that EMDR treatment would help him.

‘Well, I ran,’ Thomas said. ‘But not before it called out to me. Warning me about some unpaid debt from my grandfather who made all sorts of deals with dangerous creatures.’

Alastair had heard plenty of stories like that from his father. There were all kinds of creatures that generally left humanity alone, but could trick people into making deals with them. It usually ended badly, and sometimes required intervention.

Alastair tried to think, was Thomas in danger? He’d always known about the supernatural, of course, but preferred to stay away from it. Cordelia was the one who had been given their father’s magical sword, and although Alastair hated the idea of her living the kind of life Father used to live, it suited her more than it suited Alastair.

‘From what I learnt, deals with supernatural entities often go wrong,’ Alastair said. ‘Is your grandfather still alive?’

Thomas shook his head. ‘I never knew him. Apparently he turned into a giant worm and uncle Will, uncle Jem and uncle Gabriel had to kill him. My parents are trying to look into it a bit more, but it’s difficult since my aunt has all his journals, his possessions, and isn’t willing to share. According to my father, his mother died as a result of his dealings, and my cousin Jesse might have too.’

Alastair wasn’t sure what to think. He had heard some vague stories of the Lightwoods and Herondales who used to fight dangerous creatures, but had no idea a relative had made such deals. Of course, he didn’t think his father had been involved in this. His cousin Jem had carried cortana for one of two years before retiring and giving it back to Elias.

‘I think something might be after me,’ Thomas added. ‘I was often sick as a child, and so was Jesse. No one could figure out what was wrong with me.’

Alastair frowned. ‘I don’t remember you being sick often when we went to the same school. You were always there, trailing behind me, I would have noticed if you were absent often.’

‘I grew over my sickness when I was almost fourteen, we met soon after that,’ Thomas said. ‘I always kind of took it for granted, since no one could tell me what was wrong with me I figured it was normal I’d grow over it eventually. But I got better around the same time Jesse died, and then my aunt Tatiana, Jesse’s mother, came by our house and yelled at my parents that it should have been me.’

Alastair frowned. ‘And you think that means that your cousin dying had to do with your grandfather’s debt?’

‘My aunt believed it, at least.’

‘But what does that have to do with you getting better?’ Alastair asked, not sure if he could make sense of that theory.

‘Well, both Jesse and I were sick. I didn’t know him well, Tatiana kept him away from us, but he did know Lucie and she told me his symptoms were almost exactly the same as mine.’

‘And it’s not a genetic disorder?’ Alastair asked.

‘No one else in the family was sick, just me and Jesse,’ Thomas continued. ‘I got tested for pretty much everything they could think of, all negative. They couldn’t find out what was wrong with Jesse either. My grandmother already died as payment for what my grandfather did. So it’s not that farfetched that Benedict owed them a grandchild or something and they had to choose between me and Jesse. Except Jesse’s death wasn’t enough, and now some creature came to warn me I’m next.’ Thomas looked resigned. ‘I think I’m going to die.’

Alastair took Thomas’ hand, hoping that would not be too forward. ‘You’re not going to die,’ he said. ‘I have never heard of debts being passed on to next generations, or going on for so long. From what I’ve been told, it usually ends when the person who made the deal dies.’

‘Not in this case,’ Thomas said. ‘Jesse got lost in the woods where he lived and died. People searched, but no one could find him until he was already dead.’

Alastair could tell Thomas was getting more and more anxious and Alastair wasn’t sure how to help him. He couldn’t say for sure that was Thomas was saying was wrong, even if he still tried to think of more mundane explanations for what was happening.

‘But getting lost in the woods is not supernatural, is it? If we strayed off the path here, it could be a while until we found our way out.’

‘Yes, but the woods where he got lost weren’t big like here. Realistically, they should have found him much sooner. That’s weird, unless there was magic involved. It wasn’t particularly cold either, it happened during spring.’

Alastair had to admit that was odd. Not all forests were big enough to get lost in and die. Even here, he suspected if they didn’t make it back, people would raise alarm soon enough and find them long before they could die of natural causes. Of course, their chances of surviving a couple of days might be better than those of a twelve year old boy.

‘Could the entity that claimed Jesse’s life have picked him over you because you have the sight?’ Alastair speculated. ‘That’s something you inherited from your mother, isn’t it? Jesse didn’t have that.’

‘It is,’ Thomas confirmed. ‘No one in my father’s family has it. It feels kind of awful, doesn’t it? That I lived and got better because Jesse died?’

‘That’s just speculation,’ Alastair said sharply. ‘Don’t beat yourself up over things we can’t prove. But there is something we could do to gather more information.’

‘Beyond convincing my aunt to give us those journals?’ Thomas asked.

‘So, I haven’t done this with someone else in a very long time. Perhaps it’s best I show you.’

Alastair chose a neutral memory. He had considered a happy one, but he didn’t think he’d be comfortable sharing any of that with Thomas, not yet. Besides, he didn’t have many happy memories. It had to be nice, with his ability, to have infinite happy memories he could revisit at any time. Instead, Alastair mainly got caught in the bad ones. He picked a memory from a lecture on the history of socialism. Alastair remembered being horrified at some of the comments other students had made, only later had he realized Charles probably agreed with them. But that wasn’t the point right now. Instead, he showed Thomas a bit of the start of the lecture. The professor was animated, talking about the subject like it was the most interesting thing ever.

‘Was this at university?’ Thomas asked when they were back in the woods. ‘What did you just do?’

‘I showed you a memory of mine. Not a particularly interesting one, but it gets the point across. I can revisit any of my memories.’

‘That must make it easy to study for exams,’ Thomas said, but it wasn’t accusatory. Alastair sometimes felt like using his ability was cheating, but what was the point of having a magic memory if you didn’t even use it?

‘I do need to remember where the information I need is. So if I don’t remember the answer to an exam question, but do remember which lecture it was discussed, or which book, I can go back there. Fortunately, I am also good at studying and usually know where to look.’

Alastair had a whole library inside his head. At home, he kept a list of every book he ever read to organize it.

‘But how will that help?’ Thomas asked. ‘Is there anything you remember?’

Alastair’s dark eyes gleamed. ‘No, not related to what’s happening to you. But you have your memories. Perhaps your parents remember things, details they didn’t think were important at the time. I can help you rewatch your own memories, help you recall things you might have forgotten. It is something that I do not usually do, as it feels rather invasive. But if it helps save your life, I’m willing to give it a try.’

Thomas nodded. ‘Yes, of course. You can look in my memories all you like if that’ll save me.’

#Alastair Carstairs #Thomas Lightwood #Cordelia Carstairs #Lucie Herondale #Thomastair #Lucelia #fanfiction #fic #the last hours #tlh #tsc

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ibijau · 4 years ago

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a prompt (a/b/o, bc i like how you write it): the sunshot campaign has just ended, and nie huaisang is looking forward to a future in which he can devote himself to wooing lan xichen. the match would be a little scandalous—it’s rare for an alpha to marry in, as nie huaisang intends to—but alpha-beta pairs are perfectly normal, and lan qiren is certainly more accepting of his first nephew’s crush than of lan wangji’s. less than three weeks into peacetime, however, nie huaisang’s plans hit a massive snag: jin zixuan has presented as an omega, removing him from the jin line of succession (and nie huaisang cannot help but be a little offended by that, on da-ge’s behalf—omegas can lead just as well as anyone else! the jin succession tradition is just stupid). but that’s the way things are in the jin sect, and so madame jin is scrambling to put together a marriage to get her son out of lanling before the worst happens... and the top two candidates on her list just so happen to be lan xichen and nie huaisang himself.

hello and welcome to: I like that prompt a little too much and got carried away, so now it’s 8K long. Also on AO3

warning for some mentions of rape toward the end of the story

Nie Huaisang’s plan starts when, at the tender age of eleven, he is introduced to the boy who doesn’t yet go by the name of Lan Xichen and is about to become his brother’s closest friend. Nie Huaisang, young as he is, decides that this is his true love, and of course he must ensure Lan Huan and him have the most perfect future possible together. He learns about Gusu Lan, reads as many books as he can, educates himself in the four arts, and even makes a vague effort to somewhat improve his cultivation, all so he can be the perfect spouse for a future sect leader.

A little after turning fourteen, Lan Xichen presents as a beta. It is a small deviation from Nie Huaisang’s plan, who was firmly expecting his beloved to be an alpha, but that is no big problem. Lan Xichen is Lan Xichen, he is the most perfect person in the world. Details don’t matter too much.

Another deviation from Nie Huaisang’s plan occurs when, a few days short of his own fourteenth birthday, he presents as an alpha. That, of course, is an absolute disaster. Nie Huaisang doesn’t want to be an alpha. Qinghe Nie is full of those, and he isn’t too impressed with them. He is on the brink of a complete meltdown when he figures that if his brother can be an omega who has all the qualities of an alpha, then surely he can be an alpha living the easy going life of an omega, including marrying into another sect.

Of course Nie Mingjue isn’t very happy that Nie Huaisang refuses to behave like a proper alpha, like a proper Nie, but he can hardly make an arguments against that choice without undermining his own position, so it doesn’t matter. Nie Huaisang cheerfully goes back to planning his happy future, researching cases of an alpha marrying into another sect. There are more of those than he would have expected to find, and though it is mostly alpha marrying other alphas, Nie Huaisang now knows he can rest on a precedent to argue his case.

With all this settled, the hardest part of his plan begins: seducing Lan Xichen.

It is easy enough to be sent to the Cloud Recesses to study there. A little too easy, really. Nie Huaisang suspects that his brother wanted him to go there anyway just to have some peace, and in hopes Lan Qiren might straighten him out a bit. Nie Huaisang doesn’t mind though, since it gives him a chance to be close to the love of his life. He also doesn’t mind his dreadful grades which give him a good excuse to spend time with Lan Xichen, begging him to help. Lan Xichen, generous and kind and patient and perfect in nearly every aspect, as well as eager to be a good friend to Nie Mingjue, even by proxy, of course agrees and allows Nie Huaisang to spend far more time in his room than is probably reasonable.

It would be a little scandalous really, but when Lan Qiren once tries to raise the issue in front of his nephew, Lan Xichen just laughs gently.

“Huaisang is nothing more than a little brother to me,” he says. “How could anyone think any different?”

It is a hard blow to Nie Huaisang’s fragile teenage ego, and a new setback to his perfect plan. At the same time, he has been in the Cloud Recesses for almost half a year by now, and has already guessed that this is how Lan Xichen sees him. Two years of difference won’t mean much once they are adults and married, but right now it is a pretty big gap.

Having accepted this, Nie Huaisang changes his plan again, but not his goal. If all Lan Xichen needs from him at the moment is a less stuck up little brother than the real one, Nie Huaisang will be happy to provide. He likes making Lan Xichen laugh anyway, and it’s obvious that Lan Xichen enjoys having someone to guide and teach in a way Lan Wangji won’t allow.

He can be patient, when he needs to be.

He can also be exactly as stupid as the situation calls for. It’s easy as anything to completely fail his exams. Lan Qiren almost has a qi deviation on the spot after reading Nie Huaisang’s final test, and Nie Mingjue is furious, but he can deal with that just fine, as long as he gets to come back another year in the Cloud Recesses and make sure nobody else can seduce the love of his life before puberty fully hits and gives him his fair chance.

That second year in the Cloud Recesses proves to be a test of Nie Huaisang’s determination in ways he hadn’t expected.

In his defence, the world has many more pretty boys than he ever realised.

Lan Wangji, heinous little bitch that he is, got hit hard by puberty in the short time that Nie Huaisang went home. He’s suddenly a head taller than Nie Huaisang, and looking every bit the alpha that he is even though he’s a year younger. Nie Huaisang is devoured with envy because just two months ago, Lan Wangji was just a baby, but suddenly he is very, very handsome.

Then, there’s the other guest disciples as well. Most are pretty decent looking, but some stand out from the crowd. Jiang Cheng has a bone structure to kill for, sharp eyes, and his rare smile is as radiant as sunshine on the lingering snows of spring. And everywhere he goes, Wei Wuxian follows, tall and more graceful than any boy of fifteen has any right to be. They make a stunning pair of alphas, really, to the point that it worries Nie Huaisang when the three of them strike a friendship of sorts. First, because there’s a few times when he finds himself wondering what it’d be like to kiss one of them, which is an awful betrayal of his one true love Lan Xichen. Second, because his looks are already inadequate to begin with, so hanging out with those two only makes him look even plainer by contrast.

What Nie Huaisang needs, he decides after a few weeks, is someone less pretty than him to spend time with, so he’ll look somewhat handsome next to them. And so, after some brief consideration, his great plan changes again to adapt to this new situation.

Nie Huaisang becomes friends with Jin Zixuan.

Well, saying they’re friends might be pushing it. Instead, Nie Huaisang forcibly spends time with Jin Zixuan, when Wei Wuxian is being punished by Lan Wangji, Jiang Cheng is studying, and Lan Xichen is too busy as well. It’s rather clear that Jin Zixuan isn’t very enthusiastic to have company. Quite frankly, Nie Huaisang wouldn’t have picked him as a companion either, if he’d had a choice. Jin Zixuan is haughty, has no conversation, no humour, a bad personality, and is just all around boring. He is also tragically baby faced, hasn’t even presented yet, and has nothing to recommend him except for the fact that his father is sect leader. It is practically a charity case. Indeed, when Lan Xichen hears that Nie Huaisang has been trying to become friends with Jin Zixuan, he congratulates him on it.

“I think he is a rather lonely person, isn’t he?” Lan Xichen remarks. “I’m glad you’re trying to help him. Hopefully you’ll help him relax a little.”

“Like I do with you, Xichen-gege?” Nie Huaisang boldly asks.

Lan Xichen laughs a little awkwardly, and Nie Huaisang could swear there’s a spot of colour on the older boy’s cheeks.

“I suppose I do relax when I’m with you. Are you thinking of replacing me, now that you’ve found a friend more your age?”

“Of course not,” Nie Huaisang earnestly promises. “Xichen-gege will always be the most important person for me!”

Lan Xichen smiles gently at him. “You are a good boy, and I’m sure your brother will be proud of you. I know I am.”

Hearing this, Nie Huaisang nearly faints from happiness. Just for this, it’s worth it to put up with Jin Zixuan.

But in fairness, as weeks pass, Nie Huaisang finds it a little easier to be around Jin Zixuan. The other boy mellows a bit, like a wild beast being slowly tamed. And once Wei Wuxian leaves, Jin Zixuan suddenly isn’t so prickly anymore, now that nobody is constantly taunting him and picking fights with him. He even has a sense of humour, when you know how to spot it. The first time Nie Huaisang bursts out laughing over a muttered remark Jin Zixuan made, it’s hard to say who is most surprised.

Besides, Jin Zixuan is one of the few people Nie Huaisang has met who doesn’t judge him for not striving to be a perfect alpha. Just like Lan Xichen, Jin Zixuan is surprisingly accepting of Nie Huaisang’s peculiarities.

“I prefer someone like you over some alphas who act right in public, then do everything wrong in private,” Jin Zixuan says with open disdain one day, as they walk in a garden of the Cloud Recesses.

It is a beautiful summer day, and the school year is almost over, which makes Nie Huaisang rather sad. He had planned to stay another year, still to make sure that nobody else makes a move on Lan Xichen, but he’s starting to think it will be lonely without the other friends he’s made.

“Well, I’m hardly much of an alpha in private too,” Nie Huaisang argues.

Jin Zixuan shrugs. “Not in the typical way. But you’re very protective of the people you care about, right? And you like to make people feel included. Like me and Lan gongzi… even Lan er-gongzi, when he lets you. You really don’t like when people seem lonely, do you?”

A little embarrassed to have such kind motives assigned to his actions, Nie Huaisang doesn’t reply right away. He pretends to inspect some gentians near Jin Zixuan’s feet, admiring how the deep blue of the petals contrasts rather beautifully against the gold of Jin robes.

He can’t explain that he’s always around Lan Xichen because he’s madly in love with this perfect boy, or that if he’s nice to Lan Wangji, it’s mostly just because they’re going to be in-laws someday. Above all else, he absolutely can’t tell Jin Zixuan why he decided to start spending time with him, mostly because he’s changed his mind so much since then. Jin Zixuan really isn’t boring after all, and he’s not quite so plain after all. Even if his face is still a little too round and soft for his age, there are signs here and there of what a handsome alpha he will be one day. Out of everyone he's met this year, Jin Zixuan is Nie Huaisang's favourite new friend.

“Jin-gongzi is giving me too much credit,” Nie Huaisang says at last. “I just wanted a friend less annoying than Wei-xiong, and you happened to be there.”

“Is that why you only call me gongzi, when you’re never this formal with others?” Jin Zixuan asks, sounding… not quite hurt, he has too much self control for that, but still…

Well, still a little bit hurt, actually.

“I know how your sect likes formality,” Nie Huaisang explains. “I just don’t want to disrespect you.”

“The Lan too are very formal, but you call Lan Xichen ‘gege’ all the time.”

“Oh that’s different, that’s just because he’s my da-ge’s friend!” Nie Huaisang lies. “We’re close enough the two of us, so it’s fine to call him like that.” An idea hits him, and he leans toward Jin Zixuan with a wicked grin. “If you’re so jealous though, I can call you Jin-didi. Would that work for you?”

In an instant, Jin Zixuan’s face turns a bright red and he splutters in anger. Nie Huaisang can’t help laughing at that cute reaction.

“Who says I’m jealous?” Jin Zixuan explodes. “What’s there to be jealous about?”

Nie Huaisang pokes him in the ribs, still laughing. “Jin-didi, it’s fine to have a crush on an older boy, it’s normal! I understand, I really do! Thank you, Jin-didi, for entrusting your heart to me!”

“Stop calling me that!” Jin Zixuan shouts, so mortified that he’s nearly crying.

“Jin-didi! Don’t worry, this Nie-gege doesn’t mind at all. It happens, it’s because you’re probably going to present as an alpha soon, and so you’re looking for role models around you. I am so flattered, Jin-didi. It will pass though, everyone grows out of it, don’t worry.”

Jin Zixuan’s face is so red that he looks sunburned, and the dot of cinnabar on his forehead looks almost pale compared to his face.

“You’re so stupid,” Jin Zixuan hisses, shoving Nie Huaisang to the side and stomping away. “I don’t know why I even put up with you, you’re even more annoying than Wei Wuxian!”

Nie Huaisang is too breathless from laughter to stop him from leaving. It’s for the best anyway, Jin Zixuan looked like he might pick up a fight with him for offending his dignity like this, and Nie Huaisang doesn’t feel like being punched in the face.

Still, from that day on, he makes sure to call Jin Zixuan ‘didi’ every chance he gets, just because he makes such funny faces.

Nie Huaisang passes his exams at the end of the year, because Lan Xichen told him that Nie Mingjue really doesn’t want him to be away from home this long again, not when the Wens have been acting up lately. For a second, Lan Xichen seems a little sad when Nie Huaisang promises to do his best, but it must just have been a trick of the light. When Nie Huaisang blinks, Lan Xichen’s expression is warm and polite and slightly impersonal, as always.

It’s fine anyway, Nie Huaisang figures. They’re sure to meet again soon. And when they’re married, Nie Huaisang will be able to stay in the Cloud Recesses for good, and they’ll be happy, and Nie Mingjue’s paranoia won’t ruin all his plans anymore.

It turns out that Nie Mingjue’s paranoia was, in fact, justified all along.

That’s not such a big surprise, Nie Huaisang must admit. Others tend to think his brother is stupid, but he knows better. Nie Mingjue might be a big brute, but he’s a clever one who understands politics better than anyone would suspect. He doesn’t care to play the game, but he knows the rules and he watches the moves made by others. For years and years he’s tried to warn others of the troubles he’s guessed were coming, but no one listened.

Well, they’re going to listen now, Nie Huaisang figures as he makes his way to Nightless City to serve as hostage with other disciples of Qinghe Nie. It’s kind of hard to ignore when every young master or mistress from every sect in the country is being held and re-educated by Wen Ruohan’s minions.

The whole time they’re there, Nie Huaisang tries to play it cool, like none of this affects him. He’s somewhat lucky because the Wen don’t seem to realise that he’s an alpha, and so they barely pay attention to him, while they endlessly bother Jiang Cheng, Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji and even poor Jin Zixuan who hasn’t even presented yet. These four get harassed daily about this and that. Their attitude is too rebellious, or too tame for proper alphas. They try too hard, or not hard enough. They’re too skilled and clever, or else they’re playing stupid and clearly trying to mock Qishan Wen.

In fairness, all of these accusations are absolutely true when it comes to Wei Wuxian. But even if he were to behave properly, Nie Huaisang suspects the Wen would find some fault with him.

Nie Huaisang watches all that and tries to stay out of it. The most he can do, anyway, is to offer the medicine he secretly brought with him (his brother insisted, and he was right as always) and to share his portion of food with his friends whenever they’re denied a meal. At least, when they accept. Jiang Cheng does sometimes, unless his pride gets in his way. Wei Wuxian usually refuses and boasts that he’s been wanting to practice inedia for a while anyway. Lan Wangji isn’t so loud about it, but does the same. Poor Jin Zixuan, though… even when he’s given his own portion of food he always seems hungry, so the days when he must do without are particularly hard on him. He still tries to refuse when Nie Huaisang wants to share, but in his case, Nie Huaisang doesn’t hesitate to insist.

“You’re going to present soon, aren’t you?” he whispers, pushing his bowl of bland, watery congee toward Jin Zixuan who nods miserably. Nie Huaisang remembers the horrible hunger he felt for a few weeks before presenting, when his body was hard at work preparing for the big changes that were coming. Even with all the food he could ask for he’d been starving, so he can’t imagine how much Jin Zixuan must be suffering. “You have to eat, Jin-didi,” he orders. “Please, eat something, or else your Nie-gege will be sad.”

It says a lot about Jin Zixuan’s state that he doesn’t even object to being called this way. Nie Huaisang lets Jin Zixuan have both of his meals that day, explaining that he actually has snacks hidden along with his medicine.

It’s not his best lie, but it does the trick that time, and the following ones as well.

After a week of this, Nie Huaisang is starting to feel a little unwell. His golden core just isn’t very strong, and cannot sustain him through inedia the way it would for others. He’s always known this, there’s just something not quite right with his meridian which means cultivation doesn’t come easy for him. Usually it doesn’t bother him, but after eating so little for several days, of course there’s side effects… but someone has to take care of Jin Zixuan, right?

It’s almost a relief when they’re told one morning that everyone is going on a Night Hunt. It’s not the first one Wen Chao took them on, and while it’s unpleasant to fight creatures without weapons, at least they’ve always been given better rations.

In the end, good rations feel like a poor trade for what happens on that Night Hunt. Nie Huaisang has never been so terrified in his life, except when he was eleven and his father lost his mind… although this is worse, so much worse. His father wounded some people, but he didn’t kill anyone the way that false Xuanwu does, slaughtering anyone it can grab before they manage a daring escape, thanks to Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian. Nie Huaisang, who is a fairly decent swimmer, ends up helping Jin Zixuan through the underwater passage, since the other boy is starting to look really unwell. He hasn’t been hurt, thankfully, but it’s clear he’s close to presenting. He must have only a few days left at best, or more likely a few hours.

Maybe that’s why even after they’re safely out of the cave, Jin Zixuan won’t let go of Nie Huaisang’s hand, why he leans so heavily against his side. Nie Huaisang allows it all. He probably should hand Jin Zixuan over to the Jin disciples present, but if they were trustworthy, Jin Zixuan would already have gone to them for comfort, wouldn’t he?

“It’s okay, Jin-didi,” Nie Huaisang tells the other boy while putting his free hand on Jin Zixuan’s forehead. He’s burning, and this is really the worst time and the worst place to be presenting, but it’s going to happen anyway. “I’m here with you. We’re going to get you home, and then you’ll be safe, right?”

Jin Zixuan nods weakly. “Thank you, Nie-gege,” he whispers, and Nie Huaisang’s heart does somersaults in his chest at being called that. It makes him want to keep Jin Zixuan close, to really protect him from anyone that might hurt him.

It’s a stupid idea, of course. Jin Zixuan is about to present, and when that’s over, when he’s an alpha, he’s never going to need anyone’s protection again. What’s happening here won’t last very long.

Nie Huaisang figures it’s fine to enjoy this while it’s there. He’s sure Lan Xichen, if he’s still alive, will understand that even an alpha as weak and pathetic as him needs to feel protective here and there.

It takes a long, long while to go home on foot. By the time Nie Huaisang and the other Nie disciples reach Qinghe, a war has been declared against the Wen because they’ve attacked the Lotus Piers and annihilated the entirety of Yunmeng Jiang. Nie Huaisang cries upon hearing this, because Jiang Cheng was fine when he last saw him, because it’s unfair that Wei Wuxian was rescued from that cave only to die like this anyway.

He cries also because Nie Mingjue is going to risk his life, because there’s still no news from Lan Xichen.

He cries because he won’t even be able to help his brother, and is to be sent to the Cloud Recesses where he’s less likely to be captured and used as a hostage again.

He cries because that’s all he’s good for, apparently.

Lan Xichen is alive.

Nie Huaisang cries when Lan Qiren tells him, and then doesn’t shed a single tear again and sets to work to be of some use in this war they’re fighting. The husband of a sect leader must be a useful person after all. Lan Xichen will have to deal with so many responsibilities, much earlier than he ever should have to, so Nie Huaisang needs to step up his game and become someone worthy of his future husband. He might be lazy, and spoiled, and a little useless, but Nie Huaisang is also very stubborn when he wants something, and what he wants is Lan Xichen, the most perfect person in the world.

Lan Xichen who smiles with the warmth of a tender spring afternoon, who is always calm and collected, who smells of gentian and pine trees. Lan Xichen who never has a hair out of place. Lan Xichen who always knows what to do, what to say, no matter the situation.

Lan Xichen who looks utterly broken when he comes to visit the Cloud Recesses, three months into the war.

Perhaps to others he doesn’t look so bad. The Lan disciples who are with Nie Huaisang when Lan Xichen arrives don’t comment on it. But Nie Huaisang has been observing Lan Xichen for years at this point, and he can instantly tell that something is wrong. It shows in the way the beta carries himself, how his eyes glance over things as if he cannot see what’s around him, the slight twitch at the corner of his lips when he smiles. Nie Huaisang’s heart aches to see his beloved in such a state. He hates the Wen more than ever, if such a thing is possible, for having hurt Lan Xichen this way.

Because there is so much to do, because Lan Xichen has so many responsibilities now, it seems at first that Nie Huaisang won’t have a moment alone with him. He tries to be fine with that. A sect leader’s husband must know that sometimes he comes second to the sect in question. But the hollowness in Lan Xichen’s eyes haunts him too much. That night, close to the hour for curfew, Nie Huaisang decides that he must offer some distraction to the love of his life, perhaps even some comfort, should Lan Xichen be inclined to allow it.

It’s risky to be out and about at that hour. Even at such a time, the Lan are strict with their rules, and Nie Huaisang knows he will be scolded, or even punished, if he is caught. To avoid that he doesn’t knock on the front door of Lan Qiren’s house, where he knows Lan Xichen is also living for the time being, and instead comes in through the back. He will be in so much trouble if he’s spotted, but love comes before rules. Soon enough he’s inside a private garden, knocking on the door of the only room where a candle still burns.

To Nie Huaisang’s relief, it is indeed Lan Xichen who opens that door for him.

To his horror, Lan Xichen looks even worse than before, his eyes red from crying.

“Huaisang, what are you doing here?” Lan Xichen asks, trying to quickly regain his composure.

“I thought I’d come see you, Xichen-gege. You looked like you might need a friend.”

Lan Xichen takes in a sharp breath, like he’s trying not to sob. He manages to keep his face impassive, but two tears still drop on his cheeks, leaving a shiny trail behind. If Nie Huaisang didn’t have such excellent manners, he would lunge forward to kiss away those tears.

“I’m not sure I’m fit for company,” Lan Xichen says in a voice that trembles a little. “I find myself in a rather emotional state at the moment.”

“Then you definitely need a friend,” Nie Huaisang replied. “I offer myself, if you’ll have me.”

A few more tears escape Lan Xichen’s reddened eyes, which he tries to wipe away quickly, like a child just starting to learn he’s not supposed to cry in public. Nie Huaisang braces himself for rejection, but Lan Xichen instead pinches the hem of his sleeve and pulls him inside.

“You’ll be in trouble if someone sees you,” he explains. “How unreasonable, Huaisang… didn’t you realise that people might talk, seeing an alpha roaming around at night?”

Of all the things Nie Huaisang has thought about before coming here, that particular detail hasn’t occurred to him. People often forget he’s an alpha, and so does he, most of the time. Outside of his ruts, he might as well be a beta, and he’s convinced people who meet him must think that’s the case. But of course the Lans know better.

“Xichen-gege, I don’t want to cause you trouble or start gossip against you,” Nie Huaisang says. “I wanted to see if I could make you smile, that’s all. If you think I should leave, just say so and I’ll stop bothering you.”

“That might be…” Lan Xichen starts, before choking on his words. “Maybe you should… This is… it is…”

More tears drop on Lan Xichen's cheeks and he gasps in an alarming fashion, trying to stop himself from breaking down into sobs. Nie Huaisang’s heart clenches painfully at the sight. He takes one of Lan Xichen’s hands in his, trying to offer him comfort. Immediately Lan Xichen starts crying in earnest, falling to his knees. Nie Huaisang follows him, sitting on the floor near him, patting his hand, his shoulder even when the sobs get too heavy.

They stay like this a long while, sitting on the floor of that bare room which doesn’t really belong to Lan Xichen and only serves as a reminder of everything that he has lost. Nie Huaisang can’t find any words of comfort to offer, because he knows how empty those would feel. All he has to give is his presence, and his patience.

It is well past curfew when Lan Xichen finally calms down enough to sit a little straighter.

“How disappointed you must be, seeing me so weak,” Lan Xichen says, quickly drying his tears with the fabric of his inner robes. “I’m not the person you think I am, in the end.”

“You are that person and more,” Nie Huaisang sincerely replies. He squeezes Lan Xichen’s hand in his, barely refraining the impulse to kiss it. Seeing Lan Xichen like this, imperfect, angry and hurt, only makes Nie Huaisang love him more. How could he not, when Lan Xichen is giving him this trust? “Xichen-gege, I like everything about you, the good and the bad. I like you when you are calm in front of everything, and I like you when you can’t be strong anymore.”

Lan Xichen sighs and tilts his head, trying to smile but not quite managing it. “Huaisang…”

“I do, I really do!” Nie Huaisang insists. “I just wish I could help you more. I wish I could give you strength when yours runs out. I wish I had the power to protect you against those who would harm you. You make me wish I could be more than I am, so I could stand at your side and be of use to you.”

Lan Xichen smiles, and brings his trembling free hand to touch the alpha’s cheek.

“And I’m glad you are exactly the way you are,” Lan Xichen says with unbearable tenderness. “You are as I want you to be, as I want to see you at my side.”

Nie Huaisang’s heart is racing at those words, and he feels his face flush.

“Xichen-gege, I don’t think you and I mean quite the same thing here.”

“I think we do. I wasn’t sure what to think of this,” Lan Xichen admits, gently cupping the side of Nie Huaisang’s head, who must resist the impulse to close his eyes and lean into that touch. “I thought you only liked the image I try to give, and that you would be disappointed when you’d learn who I really am. But you’re seeing me now, and… you still like me?”

“More than ever,” Nie Huaisang whispers.

Lan Xichen smiles at him, beautiful like dawn after a cold and dark winter night.

“Then when this is over, let’s see how we can deal with this,” Lan Xichen says. “I know there’s precedent for such situations, though it will be unconventional. I fear you’ll have to marry into Gusu Lan, if this is to happen. Could you bear with that?”

Nie Huaisang nods, laughing and crying at once, delighted beyond words to realise that Lan Xichen too has made plans. He knew they were well suited for each other, he knew it all along, and finally he’s proven right.

Finally, he’s going to be happy.

The Sunshot Campaign ends, and sooner than everyone expected. Wei Wuxian’s new techniques are to thank for that… or to blame, depending who’s talking. Not everybody is fond of what Wei Wuxian has done during the war. Still, he’s a hero, one of many. Of the young masters of great sects in their generation, only Nie Huaisang and Jin Zixuan haven’t gained a title for their glorious deeds.

In fact, when Nie Huaisang asks around, it appears that Jin Zixuan didn’t contribute at all to the war, in any way. He wasn’t among those who fought, which isn’t such a surprise when Jin Guangshan barely wanted his sect involved at all. But Jin Zixuan wasn’t on the back front either, and that’s strange. Nie Huaisang knows his friend isn't a coward like him, and must have wanted to contribute in some fashion. Jin Guanshan will have tried to stop him, but Jin Zixuan is exactly the sort of person who would run away and join another sect's troupes to do his part in fighting the Wen.

Nie Huaisang becomes truly concerned when he learns that while Jin Zixuan has been absent from the war, one of Jin Guangshan's bastards has seen his status elevated and been given a title. Jin Ziyao, Lianfang-zun, is the first out of many bastards that Jin Guangshan has ever seen fit to legitimise.

Suddenly, Nie Huaisang becomes terrified for his friend. Jin Zixuan looked so unwell that day after they escaped the cave. If his group stumbled upon the Wen, if he was wounded or worse…

Jin Zixuan is absent from the banquet held in Jinlin Tai to celebrate the end of the war. It is noticed and gossiped about, especially since Jin Guangshan brought not only Jin Ziyao, but also another of his bastards, a mere child who rumour says he might legitimise as well. Worse still, Madam Jin is somewhat polite to both of her husband's bastards, when she's been known to never even allow anyone to mention his infidelities before her.

Sick with worry, Nie Huaisang cannot eat or drink anything and quickly excuses himself from the celebration. He takes refuge on a platform that overhangs above elegant gardens, leaning over a railing to admire the sight. He hoped that being alone would give him a chance to calm down, but it only makes things worse. Jin Zixuan used to say he'd make Nie Huaisang visit the gardens of Jinlin Tai someday and show the peacocks from up close, but that might never happen now, because he might be…

Nie Huaisang bursts into tears.

He shouldn't have let Jin Zixuan go with the Jin that day, he should have kept him close and protected him, so nothing could happen to him. There is no safer place in the world than with a group of Nie, and Nie Huaisang knows even a pitiful alpha like him would have sprung into action if the situation called for it.

He knows that for Jin Zixuan's sake, he would have easily torn Wen Chao's throat with his bare teeth, if it had come to that.

Nie Huaisang is still crying when Lan Xichen finds him and silently wraps his arms around him. It helps a bit, if only because it reminds Nie Huaisang that things aren't entirely awful, that even if something happened to Jin Zixuan, he won’t have to face his grief alone. They’ve talked to Nie Mingjue who grumbled mightily against his brother leaving Qinghe Nie, but that was never an argument he could have won, not when Nie Huaisang has prepared for it half his life. Once Lan Xichen’s mourning period is over, they will be married, exactly as Nie Huaisang planned.

“What has you so upset?” Lan Xichen asks, pulling his fiancé closer, enveloping him into the long layers of his robes until Nie Huaisang feels like a chick under its brooding mother.

“I’m worried about Zixuan. Nobody has seen him since the start of the war, nobody knows anything, and he isn’t here tonight…”

Lan Xichen stiffens somewhat, and for a brief moment he loses control of himself enough that Nie Huaisang can smell him, the scent of gentians and pine lingering even after Lan Xichen returns to his usual restraint.

“You’ve become very close to him, haven’t you?” Lan Xichen asks. “I don’t think you’ve asked about anyone else as much as him during the whole campaign.”

“I got news from the others all the time,” Nie Huaisang says. “But Zixuan… and he was in a concerning state last I saw him. I just feel like I should have done more for him. What if he’s…”

“He’s not dead. Ziyao would know, and he would have told me. I’ve asked on your behalf.”

Nie Huaisang smiles, and snuggles closer to the beta.

“Thank you. But what’s the matter with him then?”

Lan Xichen shrugs slightly. “Ziyao doesn’t know,” he admits. “Nobody in Jinlin Tai seems to know, except for Jin zongzhu and Jin furen. She’s the only one who gets to see him, along with a handful of servants loyal to her. Ziyao has heard that his brother might have been cursed, or fell sick somehow, but in the end he’s not really sure.”

“Poor Zixuan, he must be so bored,” Nie Huaisang sighs. He knows his friend is used to a certain isolation, but that’s different from being truly alone. He knows also that Jin Zixuan, when given the chance, isn’t someone who enjoys being on his own anyway, and that he’s an active person who likes to practice martial arts, go on Night Hunts, or even just walk around town and check shops. This situation must be a torture for him. “Do you think they’d let me see him if I asked? Or at least write to him maybe? I’m just so worried...”

Lan Xichen tenses, his scent flaring once again. Before Nie Huaisang can ask about that, he hears approaching footsteps. Since it is highly inappropriate for them to be in such an intimate position in public, and when they’re not even formally engaged, they quickly pull apart to look at the newcomer. Nie Huaisang expected his brother, or Lan Wangji perhaps.

Instead, they find themselves in front of Madam Jin. They promptly bow to her, and exchange a worried glance. She isn’t exactly known for looking kindly at couples who misbehave in her home, and her expression can best be described as cold and angry.

“Do you really wish to see my son, Nie gongzi?” she asks, startling Nie Huaisang who can only nod in answer. “Then follow me. He’ll be glad to have a visit. Lan gongzi may come as well. This might concern him as well.”

Again, the two young men trade glances, surprised by that sudden invitation. Neither of them protests, least of all Nie Huaisang who is only too happy to follow her. Lan Xichen, after some hesitation, does the same. All three of them walk in silence in the labyrinth that is Jinlin Tai until they reach a rather isolated house guarded by two fierce looking betas who have their hands on their swords as soon as they see someone approaching, and don’t let go until they recognise Madam Jin.

“Keep an eye out,” she orders the guards as the three of them go inside. “He’s been drinking, and his rut is coming close.”

The guards nod, and firmly close the door behind Madam Jin and her guests. Nie Huaisang, initially delighted to see his friend again, starts getting worried.

“Is there something wrong with Zi… with Jin gongzi?” he asks. “Why are you locking him up this way? Is he dangerous?”

“There is danger in Jinling Tai,” Madam Jin replies, leading them ahead. She knocks on a door, using an odd rhythm. “Until a better solution can be found, this is the only way I can protect my son.”

The door opens, revealing Jin Zixuan, sword in hand. Only, there’s something off about him, something that Nie Huaisang can’t quite put his finger on. Maybe it’s his clothes, which hang a little oddly and aren’t quite the cut and fabric one would expect on an alpha. Or it is the slight fear in his eyes when he opens the door, quickly replaced by defiance when he sees who is there with his mother, as if he expects Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen to say something unpleasant. And then there’s a smell in the air, fear mixed with notes of flowers.

“Oh,” Lan Xichen says, before pinching his lips so he keeps his realisation for himself.

Jin Zixuan glares at him, then at his mother.

“I told you not to do it!” he says.

“What choice do I have?” Madam Jin replies, pushing her way into her son’s room. “This is the only way.”

After some hesitation, Nie Huaisang follows her inside. Lan Xichen does the same with a certain reluctance, and when they all sit, he does so a little closer to Nie Huaisang than is probably proper, but Nie Huaisang is too stunned by the situation to think much of it.

“I have brought you here to make a request,” Madam Jin announces, while her mortified son hides his face in his hands. “I need help in protecting my son, and after long consideration, I have come to the conclusion that the two of you are the best possible choice.”

“Mother, please, don’t!” Jin Zixuan begs, only for his mother to silence him with a gesture.

“At the start of the war, my son presented,” Madam Jin continues, ignoring the interruption. “Sadly for everyone involved, he presented as an omega.”

Nie Huaisang gasps, and stares at Jin Zixuan who looks like he might start crying. It puzzles Nie Huaisang at first, because there’s nothing bad about being an omega… or at least, not when in Qinghe Nie. Other sects have their own opinions on that, of course. He’s heard people here and there say that it is shameful and unnatural that Qinghe Nie’s leader is an omega, even one that looks and acts like an alpha, but that’s just because people are jealous of Nie Mingjue. All those petty, self-satisfied alpha just can’t stand that someone of a gender they think inferior can be so much better than they will ever be.

Of course, there’s also the fact that in most sects, only an alpha can become sect leader. Even Lan Xichen isn’t nearly as respected as he deserves to be after his brave actions during the war, and that’s not just a matter of age. Still, at least he’s a beta, and from a somewhat reasonable sect. Lanling Jin isn’t so open minded. In fact, everyone says that part of the problem between Jin Guangshan and his wife is that she’s also an alpha, when he is of the opinion that same gender couples shouldn’t be allowed to exist. He was forced into that union by his own father, everyone knows it, and only because Madam Jin's parents paid a high dowry to have her married into such a glorious sect.

"As an omega, my son cannot inherit his father's title," Madam Jin confirms. "He also wasn't allowed to take part in the war, since it would have been improper for him to be in mixed company. Alphas cannot be trusted on a battlefield… Or outside of it, as the case might be." She glances at Jin Zixuan, who looks ready to faint from sheer humiliation, then continues. "To be quite blunt, I have come to feel that Jinlin Tai is not a safe place for my son, and now that the war is over, I am seeking a way to protect him from harm."

"You want to marry him off," Lan Xichen says, his voice oddly cold in spite of his polite smile. "And I suppose you already have something in mind?"

"If I could, I would have sent him to Yunmeng Jiang," Madam Jin says. "But he has never gotten along with Jiang Wanyin, and my husband won't allow him to marry another omega as that would be improper, so Jiang Yanli is out of the question. So is Nie Mingjue, for the same reason. My husband doesn't want Zixuan to be sent to a sect too small, as he would find it humiliating. I do not want to send my son to a spouse too much older than him, as I fear for his safety. That leaves me very little choice."

Nie Huaisang frowns. He knows Jin Zixuan is more than capable of gutting even an older cultivator if they try to force him into something he doesn't want. He isn't ranked third on that list of bachelors just for his looks. Being an omega doesn't change how competent Jin Zixuan is, and Nie Huaisang has half a mind to say so.

He doesn't, but only because it suddenly hits him why Lan Xichen and him have been brought here.

"You want one of us to marry him?" he asks, while next to him Lan Xichen stiffens.

"You are the best choices," Madam Jin confirms. "My husband would probably prefer Lan zongzhu, but I personally hope you will consider this, Nie gongzi. After all, my son and you are already friends, so it would make things easier."

"Mother, stop this!" Jin Zixuan hisses between clenched teeth. "This is too… This is unnecessary."

Unsure what to think, Nie Huaisang looks up to Lan Xichen, hoping he will be the one to explain the situation. But Lan Xichen, his face pale and tight, won't look at him, or at the Jin for that matter. It falls to Nie Huaisang to handle this.

"Jin Furen, I am honoured you would think of me, and I am sure Lan zongzhu feels the same," he says. "But the fact is… Well, the truth is…"

"They're in love," Jin Zixuan hisses. "I told you it wouldn't work, mother."

Nie Huaisang looks at his friend in surprise, but Jin Zixuan refuses to look at him. More than ever, he seems ready to cry. Madam Jin, for her part, isn't impressed by this new information.

"Love is nice and well," she says, "but there are other things to consider. Your family would certainly prefer this strong political alliance."

"My brother and his uncle have already given their blessing," Nie Huaisang admits. "It's not a bad match either, politically speaking."

"But you won't have children," Madam Jin points out.

"There is a precedent for this," Lan Xichen coldly says. "Although Gusu Lan favours fidelity to one's spouse, it can be allowed to take a concubine in specific cases, such as the impossibility of having children."

"Then why not take my son as your second spouse? Or as the first one even, and have each other's company on the side? Zixuan will allow it."

Both Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen stare at Madam Jin, shocked that she would say such a thing. Her stance on her husband's affairs is well known, and she is merciless toward adulterous couples. Nie Huaisang wants to ask her why she doesn't ask for her husband's help if she's so desperate to protect her son against threats to his virtue.

He keeps that question to himself, because the answer occurs to him, and he doesn't like it.

It is well known that Jin Guangshan is an alpha of great sexual appetite even in a normal state. It is rumoured, also, that he becomes terrifying when in rut, willing to take any omega or woman who crosses his path, willing or not. People say he might have fathered Jin Zixun with his own cousin, though since the poor omega was recently married, Jin Guangshan never had to recognise the child.

Jinlin Tai is not a good place to raise an omega these days, as Jin Zixuan knows. He told Nie Huaisang as much, back when they were studying in Gusu.

And perhaps there’s more alpha in Nie Huaisang than he realised, because the idea of Jin Zixuan being in such danger, in the place where he should be safest, fills him with a rage like nothing he’s rarely felt before. The only thing that can compare is the burning wrath that overcame him when he first heard that the Cloud Recesses had been burned, that Lan Xichen was missing. If he could, Nie Huaisang would grab Jin Zixuan this instant and fly with him to QInghe, were nobody will care that he’s an omega, where he’ll live free of fear because the rules of Qinghe Nie are very clear on how to deal with a rapist, regardless of sex, gender, and rank. It is tempting to accept Madam Jin’s demand, just to protect her son, except…

Except Lan Xichen is sitting right next to Nie Huaisang, and while his face is showing nothing, the smell of his anger is getting stronger with each passing moment. If the Lan rarely have a second spouse, let alone concubines of any sorts, Lan Xichen once explained, it is because their cultivation method tends to make them more possessive toward their cultivation partner. That’s the reason they are so careful in choosing such a partner, Lan Xichen confided when they started talking about getting married.

At that time, Nie Huaisang had easily promised that he would remain faithful no matter what, happy to finally have the affection of his favourite person in the world, happy to know that his love and patience would be rewarded, confident that there is nobody else in the world he could ever want.

Now though, he isn’t so sure what to do anymore. Marrying Lan Xichen is all he’s wanted for years and years, the culmination of a carefully crafted plan to ensure both of their happiness. But to abandon Jin Zixuan to his fate would be a crime, something against which his very soul rebels.

Between his dearest friend and the love of his life, Nie Huaisang has to choose, and risk losing someone either way.

#nie huaisang #lan xichen #jin zixuan #sangxuan #xisang #mdzs #jau writes #Anonymous

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yangrr · 4 years ago

Text

dear no one [q.kun]

⇾ pairing : qian kun x reader

⇾ summary : love is worth the wait,especially when it’s your favourite food store aunty’s grandson

⇾ wc : 2k

⇾ genre/warnings : implied soulmate! au,inspired by Tori Kelly’s Dear No One | mild swearing

+if i may add,i want to dedicate this to @nctream who has always been the writer whom i admired for the longest time.thank you for being the sweetest person i came across this hellsite,though i never actually communicate with you but you’re so incredible and i hope you know that.much love!

All your life,you’ve wanted nothing more than to meet the one,the soulmate who was allegedly entwined with your soul before your time on Earth even began ticking.Everyone has someone,it was just a matter of time before you meet them.But that was also exactly why you were impatient,counting down daily on the crossed-out boxes of your yearly calendar,most of your friends had met theirs by now.Some married,some even with kids---or just happily dating.All but you.

It sucked really.

Going to work in the wretched company every day was like a punch to the guts when everyone around you was all about love.Mrs Kim on the marketing department always showed off her vacation photos--it was always jolly and exciting,grinning faces of her twin boys seemed to mock you for your lack of relationship.And there was also Mr Lee,a young intern who was at least 4 years younger than you but had already found his one and only.

And how about Mr Park,the old bumbling guy nearing his retirement age?His sweet plump wife never forgets to pack him lunch,constantly reminding him to wear his tweed coat in case he catches a cold in the draughty security room.

What about you?No one to come home to,no one packing your lunch or was there a partner for holidays.Twenty-three pushing twenty-four with no felicity in love.Lady Luck never smiled at you much,you could say.Maybe it’s your resting bitch face,it could probably scare off the fortune bearing deity and leave her quivering in her robes.

The day was cold as it is,heavy rain started its relentless onslaught on the wooden roof of the rickety store off the main road.You were craving hot soup after work and thought it would be a good idea to drive off course to visit the dear old lady who ran the shop on her own.She was an amiable creature,forever ready to offer a radiant smile that let her old beauty trickle through.The granny would probably be one of the few people you were genuinely nice to,which explains your big chunk of discount every time you stopped by.

But it wasn’t a good idea of course.Nothing you ever did was a good idea.

Your engine couldn’t start up after running in the rain for your car.Other than damaging the leather seats of your vehicle,your heels sunk deep into the slushy mud and broke right when you yanked upwards to get it out.Groaning in frustration,your fingers latched onto the tresses of your wet hair,the half-cracking nail getting caught between them.You forgot to cut them last night,and now it had turned its head back to bite you in the arse.

The you that made your way back into the shop shocked the small-framed lady,your disheveled appearance a huge contrast to the sleek you that had left the store a few minutes ago.You probably gave her little heart the dose of pump she never needed.

“Dear,what happened?”She exclaimed,scurrying over to you with two thick towels. “You’ll have to dry off,or you’ll be sick!”

She sat you down on the chair behind the counter,while you attempted to shield your ratty image from the prying eyes of her customers.It didn’t really work though,they still locked glances on you,curious and hushed gossip brewing among the group of malevolent looking ladies who look upon you with their beady eyes.

“Come,”She urged,ushering you towards the baby blue curtains that led into the kitchen,maybe.There was a “STAFF ONLY” hanging above the entrance,and the sound of pans clanging gave it away.

“Qian Kun!”Her frail voice shrieked in Mandarin, “Qian Kun,where are you,you lazy boy,”Tugging you by the arm,she led you further into the cooking area.The smell of cooking was making your full stomach rumble again,and you once again longed for the hot herbal soup with noodles. “Are you on your phone again?”

“I’m not lazy!”Was the reply.A fairly built man emerged out of nowhere,eyebrows furrowed in confusion when his eyes rested on your straggly form. “Who’s this?The new cashier?”He queried,wiping his wet hands on the rag by the table.

You couldn't answer,your usually sharp tongue felt prickly and numb.You only stared back absent-mindedly,but he looked about as enamoured by you like you had been by him.

You knew the old lady told him something,and with the way she was yelling at him,you figured he was too zoned out to concentrate.Both of you tore your gazes away from each other when his grandmother reached up to his broad shoulders to give him a good shake.

“You never listen to me.” She grumbled,huffing indignantly. “All I told you to do is to lend them something to wear,and drop them back.”

The granny gave Kun a small shove, “Naughty boy,and you were so cute back then.”She muttered,retying her apron hastily and hurrying away to wait on the unattended counter.

“I’m still cute now.”He mumbled,looking sheepish in front of you. “I-uh-I apologise,that was embarrassing.”

“No worries.”You let out a small giggle,waving his comment off. “Your grandmother is cute.”

The corners of his mouth pulled up in an amused smile,while he gestured for you to follow him. “I hope you can fit into my granny’s clothes,they are a little old-fashioned but I think you can make it work.”

The door behind the pantry led up to a stairway of wooden steps,and then into a fairly warm lounge.There was a small couch,and a bed accompanied with a shelf of books and board games.You supposed that this could be their resting place of some sort when they closed temporarily for the day,lunch break, or whenever someone feels a little out of it.

“This place looks really comfortable.”You remarked,shifting your black button-up from sticking onto your skin.It clung on like leeches,making this whole ordeal more unpleasant than it already is.The nail was giving you excruciating pain,the shard of the broken end digging vehemently into your fingertips.

“It is,my granny made sure it’s the best condition so all the employees would feel comfy here.” Kun rummaged in the closet to the left of the bed,fishing out a pair of loose black pants and a plain white tee. “Here,she didn’t leave any shirts here,but I hope you’re okay with mine.”

You nodded thankfully,reaching out to take them from him.The shirt smelled nice,your nose picking up on the lavender-scented detergent wafting from the material.

“Then I’ll drive you home?” The warm tone of his voice felt homely, sending hot waves across your body,making you feel like a lightheaded teenager talking to their crush for the first time,tongue heavy with nerves.But yet at the same time,the attraction that bloomed in your chest felt more matured and controlled than the seventeen-year-old you,age muffling the lovesick squeals that you would’ve let out when you’re alone in your room.

You had felt something when you first landed eyes on him,a familiar feeling stemming that made it impossible to wound your mind around.Maybe it was your affection deprived self that was being delusional,and it would pass like one of your many fleeting crushes.

But you couldn’t help but let your mind wander,thinking about what if he was the one you’ve been waiting for?

If there was a chance to hit the pause button,you would, in half a heartbeat.The quiet fragments of conversation shared brought you a sense of ease that you’ve never felt in a long time,with white noises and soft tunes of guitar strumming playing from the car radio was almost ethereal.The drizzle of the rain incorporated flavour to the moment like the topping to your favourite dessert,it was the perfect addition that completed the time shared.

“I’ll drop by tomorrow to return the clothes.”You said,unbuckling the seatbelt as he stopped in the lobby of your apartment complex.

“Alright,I guess I’ll see you tomorrow again?”Kun smiled,the kind that made your organs go mushy and all gooey,like someone stuck a ladle in you and began to stir aggressively.

“For sure!Thank you for the lift.” You limped out of the car slowly,careful to not cause more impairment to your shoes.You didn’t fancy going up the elevator looking like someone ran you over with a truck,but there wasn’t much of an option.

All you could think of that night were Qian Kun and his calloused fingers,deep timbre voice and gentle smiles.Maybe you were going crazy,but again,there wasn’t much of an option either.

“You seem very happy today.” Mrs Kim from the marketing team mentioned,the cheerful grin almost blinding you.You couldn’t help but spot the striking resemblance of the smile to her sons.Now,it suddenly appeared more kind and less scornful than you thought,and you felt a little bad for always being grouchy towards her.You realised it was nothing but your loneliness coming into play,and you would even admit that you were envious of her happy family life. “Had a great day yesterday?”

“Not really,no,”You told her. “But I guess it wasn’t all that bad.”

So the tales of yesterday’s misfortunes came pouring out of you,from the dreaded engine to the antagonising broken nail,Mrs Kim was more than shocked to see the unconscious tug of your lips upwards.

“And you’re still smiling after all that?”She laughed. “I’m gonna say that you met someone.”

Your eyes widened a bit,trying to cough it off. “I didn’t!It was just the store owner’s grandson.”

“So there is someone?”Mrs Kim waggled her eyebrows at you. “You cannot hide from me,child.That’s the face of an infatuated person.”

The bell jingled when you pushed open the glass door.Stepping in,you opened your mouth to greet the granny like usual,but was met with an unknown face gaping at you.It was a boy,around a few years younger,round marble eyes curious yet welcoming.His booming tone greeted you,far too much enthusiasm for your liking.

“Hello,welcome!What would you like today,miss?We have chicken noodle soup for today’s special and--,”

“Lucas,please stop talking so loudly.”Kun’s voice reverberated from behind the thin curtains. “You’re gonna scare all the customers on your first day.”

“I’m here to see Kun.”You spoke to the giant of a human,glancing swiftly at the kitchen entrance,slightly intimidated by his tall stature.He gave you a quick once-over,looking a bit confused.

“Are you his girlfriend?”He questioned,shooting you a broad smirk. “Kun ge is so lucky,I’m--”

“Lucas,what’s taking so long?”Kun appeared again like the first time you met him,drying his damp hands on a small rag. “Oh!”

“Oh,indeed.”Lucas said,mischief written all over his face. “Is this your girlfriend,gege?Should I let granny know about this?”

Kun scowled at him,murmuring something along the lines of ‘if you don’t shut up,I’ll make sure you don’t have a job by the end of today.’

“Hey.”

You passed him the neatly packed parcel, “I’ve washed everything.Thank you again for being so kind to me.”

“I say this calls for a celebration.” Lucas interrupted,peeking from behind the cash register. “Kun,remember that sushi place you wanted to try out?The one near the local university.”

Kun hummed, “What celebration?”

“That someone is finally into you for the first time in twenty-four years?You should appreciate this effort made by this very beautiful individual.”

“Would you kindly shut the fuck up?”Kun hissed,the frown intensifying.

“Well,if you need someone to go with,I know a person who would very much like to.”You interjected,growing more bashful by the second.

“Great!Now you two settle between yourselves.I’ve got work to do!”Lucas said brightly,darting away.

Kun smiled,tucking his phone away in his pocket,glittering irises not leaving yours.

“I’ll call you.” He promised,and somewhere in you just knew he would.

And as you made your way out of the store,the keen sense in your being told you that something very special was about to begin.

Good things truly do come to those who wait,after all.

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jhoudiey · 4 years ago

Text

It’s been a hot minute since I’ve added anything to Loru, but I’ve FINALLY finished her birthday fic! Yay! My bird girl is 18 now! The only warning for this I guess is Implied Violence, 2900 words. Borrowed Theo and Kore from @girl-in-the-tower and Scarlet from @rikanoctrix since I want to try and add more OCs into Yoru canon going forward.

__________

“Neee Fugu-chan” Floyd grumbled, having kicked his way unceremoniously into Yoru’s room

“Floyd it’s too early for you to be this loud, what do you want?” She mumbled, not bothering to pull herself up from her mattress where she way laying face down

“I wanted to be the first person to wish you a h----aaappy birthday” he said, stifling a yawn

“You’re too late for the birthday thing, sounds like you came for a nap”

“That too” he said casually, throwing his uniform jacket toward her desk chair. It missed and landed in a pile on the floor. He jumped over Yoru and bounced slightly when he hit the mattress. She shoved one of her pillows at him, opening her eyes the tiniest amount.

“Its only 9 though, who already said happy birthday?” he whined, clutching the pillow to his chest to look at her. She blinked slowly at him before responding.

“Ortho at exactly midnight, Idia at like 6 this morning when we realized the time, and my dad when I got home. If you wanna nap do it quietly, I just got to bed” she turned away from him and buried her head in her pillow again.

“Have any big birthday plans?” he asked, looking over the edge of his pillow. She rolled back to glare at him

“Dinner later with my dad and some staff. That’s it. No you can’t come. It’s not a party. Good night” she said bluntly, shoving her face back into her pillow.

“Night Fugu-chan!” Floyd murmured, curling up on the other side of the bed.

It was already dark when she woke up, she could smell dinner being cooked from downstairs and hoped that Crowley had at least asked some of the cafeteria ghosts to cook instead of trying to cook it himself. He’d tried to bake her birthday cake 2 years ago and almost set the house on fire, he hadn’t attempted cooking since. Yoru showered, threw some clothes on and made her way downstairs to the dining room.

“SURPRISE!” She was almost blown backwards by the noise and took a step back. The room was full of staff and the few friends she’d managed to collect while haunting the grounds of NRC. Floyd grinned at her from behind Jade and Azul, Ortho was floating near the front of the table with a huge smile on his face with Idias tablet floating nearby, and the staff were all gathered around the room wherever they’d fit. She’d never had a birthday where so many people came for dinner, and was taken a aback

“Neeee Fugu-Chan!” Floyd called “You said I wasn’t invited but I bet you never knew there was going to be a party for you!” He smirked at her, Jade chuckling softly beside him.

“Uhhhh...what...is going on?” she asked, looking around the room at everyone, still shocked to see so many people. Crowley swooped down on her from across the room, draping his arm across her shoulders.

“Oh my sweet daughter, I thought for your 18th birthday we should have a spectacular party for you with all of your friends and family!” he gestured around the room with his other arm. “Everyone is here to celebrate with you, so make sure to not run away!” He steered her deeper into the room, sitting her down at the head of the table laden with food. She awkwardly glanced around the room, was she supposed to say anything? Were there customs for this sort of thing? She sat in silence, fidgeting a little in her chair, hoping that someone else would say something to break the tension that had settled over the room.

“Yoru-san! What sort of gifts did you ask for!?” Ortho chirped enthusiastically, flying a little off his seat. For Idias birthday the three of them had hidden away and played a few board games, what she wouldn’t give to be repeating that experience right now.

“Ummm… nothing. I usually just get whatever I need throughout the year myself… I don’t really know what I would ask for”... She trailed off looking around the room once more, were they going to expect her to open presents? Was there even presents to open? Generally the teachers gave her new notebooks or reference books, but they’d always just leave them for her on the table without ever having wrapped them. Yoru wasn’t sure what else to say, and was worried she’d be further interrogated about gifts; she started filling her plate, hoping that the food would at least act as a buffer for the pressure that was slowly spreading through the room. As she was piling her plate to tottering she noticed an unfamiliar face in the corner near professor Yule, she paused and stared at the girl wondering if they’d met before and she’d just forgotten. The girl smiled shyly at her and waved, Yoru was certain they’d never actually met before, there weren't any other girls at NRC, and there wasn’t any reason for a random girl from the village to be here…

“Yoru, this is my daughter Kore” Theo said to her with a slight nod “She’s come to stay at NRC with me, though she’ll be living in Ramshackle dorm with Yuu for the time being. I’m sure you’ll get along” He smiled at her, knowing that it was unlikely. Yoru was, afterall, prickly and not very open to new friends and Kore herself could be difficult. Yoru grimaced and gave the girl a quick nod before turning back to the table, hoping that there weren’t any more surprises planned for the evening. Theo let out a sigh of relief “honestly I thought that was going to go way worse” he chuckled a little looking at Kore. She had her face set and was looking towards Yoru’s back, fists tightened into balls, daring Yoru to say something about her lack of magic.

The night carried on, conversation flowing more easily once everyone started eating. Azul was trying to worm the recipes out of Crowley so he could co-opt them for the lounge, while Crowley was giving every excuse he could to not have to admit that it was the ghosts that had cooked and not him. As dinner wound down, Yoru started getting anxious again as she wasn’t certain what was supposed to come next. Why did Crowley think it was a good idea to have her entertain a room full of people? Luckily everyone was entertaining themselves for the most part, so she’d been able to have a muttered conversation with Idias tablet, making escape plans for as soon as she was able to sneak away.

“Yoru-san! Me and Ni-san made you this, he said that it would help you out a lot!” Ortho cheered suddenly from the table. “N-Not so loud, Ortho” The tablet groaned “Sorry Ni-san! Look Yoru! It’s a tablet like the one Ni-san has! He set it to easy mode cause he knows you suck!” Ortho beamed at her “Wow Idia, real nice.” She said sarcastically “You know what I meant! You suck with computers! I made this one idiot proof, just for you hehehehe, there’s no way you can mess this one up!” Ortho thrust the tablet at her, where it floated near her head “Oh this is weird” she said, looking sideways at it as it beeped quietly at her, even if it was set to be user friendly, she knew she’d have to get Idias help setting it up later.

“Yoru! My girl! You’re 18 now! Congratulations!” Vargas boasted, throwing an arm around her shoulder. She suspected him and Theo may have had a few too many drinks, he was being more affectionate than normal, and Theo was actually smiling. She didn’t blame him, having to deal with Crowley out of a professional setting could be draining. “You can’t turn 18 without a proper gift though! I brought you something!” He beamed at her, pulling the largest container of protein powder she’d ever seen from out behind his back. She couldn’t help but laugh a little, of course he would think protein powder was a good gift- not that he was wrong. Protein powder would be really useful for her to get back into shape, she’d ended up losing a lot of weight over the winter and needed to gain it back... It had been a while since the two of them had done any training, she made a mental note to ask him to get back to sparring once her wings had fully grown back in and her mobility was back to 100%.

“Vargas, isn’t that a little… hmmmm” Crewel had started, before sighing and shaking his head a little “Nevermind, Yoru, I think this book of antidotes to rare poisons will come in handy” He said, glaring at her. She knew that look too well, there would be hell to pay if she poisoned herself and needed his help recovering again. She’d hoped that maybe her New Years accident wouldn’t have made it to Crewel’s ears, but Crowley was always a loudmouth so she suspected everyone in the room knew that she’d almost died a mere 4 weeks before. “Thanks Crewel” she muttered, rifling through the pages.

“A book of antidotes, Crewel? How disappointing” Theo scoffed, cutting Crewel off before he could respond to Yoru. They’d had a long standing rivalry and no way he’d let Crewel get another word in. “here Yoru, this may be of some help. I found it on one of my expeditions.” He handed her a small compass with the needle spinning wildly “It’ll point you to what you need most at any given time” He smiled at her, chuckling a little at the needle spinning dizzyingly fast. Yoru grinned, Theo always had the neatest stuff, she was glad to be given an artifact of her own, even if this one seemed to be broken. If it wasn’t, it should be pointing towards the Ignihyde dorm, since at that moment she wanted nothing more than to be hiding away in Idias room in silence. She slid the compass in her pocket and glanced to the side toward Kore who was there holding out a cabbage. “I didn’t know what to get you since we’ve never met, but I think everyone has a use for cabbage so here!” she thrust it at yoru who grabbed it with both hands, a grin growing across her face. Cabbage. As a gift. “This is great, I love cabbage” She smiled, thinking it was probably all downhill from here, food was really hard to top as a gift, good job girl she had never met. As she turned to put the cabbage down, Azul cleared his throat gently from the table.

“Ahhh Yoru-san! While we’re on gifts, we’re pleased to say we’ve brought one for you as well!” He smiled at her and Floyd handed her a box. All three of the Octavinelle boys were smiling at her as she opened it, it was quite unnerving to be watched so closely by them. Inside was what she realized was her Mostro Lounge uniform. Azuls smile widened “I’m glad Professor Crewel was able to lend a hand to assist in the tailoring of it, it should fit perfectly for you to start work with us in the Lounge tomorrow”. Yoru rolled her eyes at him. “Oh yay, can’t wait. What if it doesn’t fit?” she asked. Crewel scoffed at her. “I tailored it, of course it will fit, there is no question.” She sighed, knowing he was right. He’d been able to alter her high school uniform for her perfectly before she realized that Walpurga Nacht Academy had a strict “no alterations of any kind” policy.

“Here Yoru-chan! You can use this to take orders in the Lounge!” Scarlet interrupted, beaming at her. She’d been the nurse at NRC longer than Yoru had been alive and was excited to be here celebrating her 18th birthday with everyone. She handed Yoru a shocking pink notebook with cartoon unicorns all over it, complete with a neon-holographic sticker sheet of cute and cuddly creatures. “You can use it to take notes too! I know how much you write down, so I knew a notebook would be handy!” Her smile was shining so brightly Yoru had a hard time looking at her, she felt guilty knowing she’d only ever use this particular notebook if every other object that could be written on disappeared from existence. She took the notebook and placed it on top of the box containing her Mostro Lounge uniform, ready to be carried upstairs back to her bedroom. She felt her chance to escape the party was approaching, the pile of gifts needing to be carted away a blessing in disguise

“Hmmmm my favourite demon-chan has so many gifts!” Sam exclaimed, looking around at all of them, “Perhaps she doesn’t need another...” he teased, smiling widely at her. “Hmmm, but if she didn’t need any other gifts, then what would I do with this vial of Dragon blood?” Yorus eyes widened. She’d asked Sam if he could try and find her some more than six months ago but he’d never gotten back to her. “Sam! You found some! This is amazing!!!” She was ecstatic, holding the vial in her hands, an entire new world of potion making opportunities opening up to her. Crewel and Crowley gave each other a short glance, it wasn’t a good idea for her to have something so dangerous, especially if she was going to continue experimenting on herself. “Hmmm Sam, perhaps that isn’t a good gift for a young woman?” Crowley tried to protest, the glare Yoru shot him quieted him down immediately. “Thank you Sam, this will be really useful”.

“Ahhh Sam, again with the dangerous gifts” Trein sighed handing Yoru a small book bound in a strange leather. “Here Yoru, you had asked me before about Harpies but I wasn’t able to tell you much. I’ve found a history of them, as brief as it is, hopefully this will answer some your questions” He gave her a small smile, she accepted the book with a small nod. She had been beginning to wonder more about her mother and the Strophrades Isle, but there was nothing in the library on the topic, which she had found strange. She’d meant to ask Crowley the best way to get there and information on her mother, but had forgotten . Even if she had, she assumed he’d talk her ear off, having been starved for conversation with his daughter for the last month. She had vowed to never speak with him again after he’d given Azul permission to drug her, and so far had been able to keep the promise to herself.

She placed the book on top of the others and grabbed the pile of gifts to carry up to her room, the cabbage and protein powder balanced precariously on top. “I uhhh.. Don’t know how birthday parties are supposed to end so thanks everyone…” she muttered, walking out of the room to start climbing the stairs to her room. “Just a minute, Nugget!” Crowley called after her “You never got my gift!” he called up the stairs behind her, she ignored him.

“How embarrassing, headmaster, your own Nugget ignoring you” Jade said quietly, staring at Crowleys back. “Jade, if I ever hear you call me Nugget I swear I will rip your tongue out” Yoru yelled down the stairs. “Fufufu, than I shall make sure you never hear me” he grinned. “Neee Fugu-chan! What if I call you Nugget-Chan?” Floyd yelled after her, Azul, Jade, Ortho, and Idias tablet laughing quietly. “The same goes for you Floyd! I will eat your tongue for dinner!” She threatened. Everyone remaining in the room grinned, trying to think of ways to work the word Nugget into their everyday vocabulary.

“Oh!” Crowley cried out suddenly “We forgot the cake!” He rushed into the kitchen, returning moments later with a two-tiered white cake with a large 18 drawn on the top in green icing. “Yoru! Come back and get some cake!” Crowley's face fell when there was no response, he knew she’d likely left out the window already, the promise of cake not enough to bring her back. “Well, it would be a waste to not eat it…” he mused to himself before looking at the room at large “Okay! Who wants cake!” He smiled at everyone raising their hands.

***

“Hey, where’s the cake?” Idia asked when Yoru pushed her way into his room.

“Cake?” She questioned, holding the tablet he’d made for her out to him. “I need help setting this up” He sighed and grabbed the tablet from her hand, easily tapping through the screens to set it up for her.

“You come and ask me for favours and don’t even bring any cake, what kind of friend are you!?” he complained.

“We didn’t even have cake, what are you talking about?” She sat down on his bed, watching him tinkering with the tablet.

“Crowley said there was cake, and you didn’t bring any with you!”

“Oh. I must have left before then. Ortho is still there, get him to bring some back and we can eat it here”

“Oooh! Good idea!” He whispered to Ortho from his tablet, a childish grin creeping across his face at the promise of cake.

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timerainseternal · 4 years ago

Note

Who’s your favorite character of tua and why

I enjoy most of the characters in Umbrella Academy, but my favorite is Five! As for why, there are a lot of reasons, but I think, writing-wise it's because I don't know what he will do at any given moment, but I trust where he's going. This is a difficult balance to pull off, but I'll try to explain exactly what I mean and why I feel that way.

Firstly, I don't know what he'll do, which makes him interesting to watch. He's full of contradictions in many ways, he's very resourceful, and he's written as someone who is extremely smart. (Though another thing I find interesting is that unlike with many other "genius" characters, intelligence--as in knowledge or ability like with his scribbling-on-the-walls math--isn't his primary trait, at least not to me. Before that I would say that he is at least determined, as well as resourceful in a way that isn't linked strictly to book smarts. Instead, he's driven on sustained desperation that "geniuses" never seem to get in media, and even though he's so smart and generally competent, his plans often or always fail, which I actually made a whole post about. Even further, we know he's 58, so his knowledge is based not only on natural ability, but also a lot of work and time, which is also not the general presentation. We know he's smart, but figuring out time travel took him a whole lifetime.) Anyway, even his power set is...fluidly defined. I don't know what plans he will make, or what side effects will follow--only that, based on past experience, side effects will follow. As such, I'm very entertained watching him constantly pivoting and coming up with new ideas and plans, especially since I think he gets more plot turns than anyone else in the series, or at least is a more active force in those turns.

His choices also showcase the desperation that is at the core of him, and the moral greyness that comes from it. He's not bound by normal considerations like most of the others are; often, he doesn't even consider them. What might be off-limits to others isn't off-limits to him (which is like his powers in a funny kind of way). But really, it all stems from the fact of having lost everything with his 45-year stint in the apocalypse and the loneliness that comes from that. It's an interesting philosophical thought experiment. What are morals in a dead world? What are a few thousand people compared to the end of humanity? What are we if everything else gets stripped away?

And for Five, the answer is not in the violence we've seen him commit, but instead the love he shows. He was presented as a prickly genius who is smarter than everyone and knows everything (like he says to Allison in ep 1) and who is also a time-travelling assassin hardened by decades in a wasteland. We expect competence, cold calculation, and a near-complete lack of empathy. But then we meet Dolores, and we learn that he's doing everything for his family, and we see that everything he does is for love of other people. Specific other people, sure, but love nonetheless. And he isn't cool about it, isn't aloof; he's lost it all before, and he's desperate, and nothing he does--despite what most shows tell you about geniuses--really fixes any problem completely, and especially not the relationships that got broken when he left.

Yet even despite all that, he's also predictable in a way that lets me trust him. Obviously, as an audience, we see how pressing and devastating the apocalypse is. It's the end. Yet none of the other characters understand that the way we do, or the way Five does. His ultimate goal is to stop that from happening and protect his family, and given his life experience, I know that there is nothing that will stop him as long as he's around. I trust that his character will make decisions towards an end goal that I agree with as the audience, and that as long as that remains true, I know that even if I don't know where he's going with a plan, I can at least trust his intent. Even with the Commission, where he worked as an assassin and presumably murdered innocents, the end goal is great enough that it makes sense. Moreover, though, is that once we see that his motivation is for love and to protect, not from a place of sadism or superiority, and that he will even listen to others to find a less violent workaround (as with Luther in s1), I trust his intentions even more.

That's part of what makes the murder of the Board, and then the aftermath, so interesting: it's a study in contradiction, the urge to be violent and feel seen and effective and successful, contrasted with a sense of guilt and remorse and an understanding that it's not the best version of himself. He's warring with those instincts, but the writers have portrayed him in a way that allows for understanding and sympathy.

For another thing, as I think @the-aro-ace-arrow-ace mentioned, given his unique standing as both 13 and 58, he can't really have a romantic relationship to pull him away like the others can, nor do I think he would if he could, considering the timespan the show tends to give him. He's not really in the mindset for romance at all, and especially not a romance that would distract him from his goals. Not only was Dolores an extension of his own mind for a long time, but also was one he was willing to abandon, first going with the Handler, then again towards the end of season 1. Not only does this make his goals less likely to be swayed from what I, as an audience member, consider to be important, but also romance as the sort of "love at first sight, I will prioritize you over everyone else without any real merit behind it" is always a bit flimsy to me. Maybe I'm a little too aromantic to get it, but I generally find it a bit distracting at best unless done really well. (I did like Raymond and Allison as a couple. I thought that was done really well, where they had time and chemistry and respect for each other, and I enjoyed the time they spent together. It doesn't hurt that Allison is my second favorite, but it stands well even besides that. It's just a good relationship.)

Finally, all of that plays into Five's relationships with others. He isn't good at being a social creature (understandable), yet that's what he values most: his family. He wants to be empathetic--and in many cases he can be--but he's battling his own inability to be understood. He doesn't even fully understand himself in the world he left when he was a child. In a very real sense, he can't do what has become most important to him--not that his siblings are the best role models for communication. It makes sense, then, that he was able to seemingly connect with Reginald. Five wants to connect with the people he missed and felt like he wronged, no matter if he actually was in the wrong or not. He so often gets ignored/misunderstood/considered crazy that even as someone just watching that conversation, it felt cathartic for him to be listened to and taken seriously, even if I think Reginald is the absolute worst and that the best thing for him to do would be to stay dead. Five thought he was being the most rational of his siblings in that supper, but he didn't realize that his biases were as strong or stronger, and just had a different root. His relationships with others are his strongest desire/goal/motivator, but he has such a distorted perception of the way the world works on a daily, interpersonal level and also who he is in that world, that he can't really make it work right, and that's really neat to watch.

In my mind, also, what Five is looking for isn't actually his family from 2019. It isn't even his family from 2002, or at least not just them. I think that what he wants is to be who he was when he left, before he got stuck in the apocalypse. He wants his family because he loves them--I don't doubt that, and I don't want to discredit it--but also because I think in some sense he believes that if he can just be with them again, he can make things the way they used to be, the way he used to be. He's kind of like Luther in that regard, except that Luther is beginning to move on, and Five is stuck in it. The tragedy in this, of course, is that he's the time traveller here, and no matter what time he goes to, his only choice is forwards for himself. He can't go back, even if he reaches the exact moment he left. This, of course, is speculation--or analysis, if we use the kinder term--but I think it shows how much can be read into his character based on his choices and narrative arc, and that in itself is interesting whether it was intended or not.

So, that's an overly long answer to your question! It's Five because I think he's interesting, and I think he's interesting because the writers have backed themselves into a corner where he kind of has to be. I hope that was what you were looking for!

#asks #tua asks

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lumen-adstrum · 4 years ago

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Hi! I read your works and I really really like them! So I would like to make a request! How about a felix × fem!reader pre-timeskip? Felix is so in love with her but he tries to deny it and he avoids her a little for this purpose. However, he gets really jealous when a suitor is pestering the reader non-stop so he pretends to be the reader's boyfriend to scare away the suitor? Thank you! And take care please!

A/N: Aww thank you so so much!! I’m so happy you like them! I’m sorry it took me a while to write, but I wanted to make this one a bit longer than my other works! I hope this is to your liking! Please stay safe and in good health! -Evelyn

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ABSENTION

Two months had gone by, the Verdant Rain Moon had settled in full with plenty of showers and rainbows making an appearance. [Y/N], like many other students, attended the monastery with intentions of growing not only in power but as a person too. Along the way, she met many new faces, some familiar ones too. Felix was among the many she had made acquaintances with.

He was prickly, blunt, and beyond harsh in the eyes of many, those same people constantly ridiculed how she could stand trying to talk to him. All he ever did was scoff and brush them off. Perhaps he did those same things to her as well, but she could tell he was listening even as he pretended not to. After all, Felix had a little quirk: nodding his head subtly to himself as he pondered her words. His stubborn facade of aloofness had always struck her as cute rather than hurtful.

However, she had noticed as time passed… he seemed more and more avoidant, and their conversations were more one-sided than ever, hardly even a nod to himself now. [Y/N] wouldn’t lie, it had begun to sting the longer the dynamic continued, having grown attached to him. She had extended the concern to his friends, Ingrid and Sylvain, but as far as they knew, he was the same Felix they had always known.

Even during lectures, he no longer sat in the same row as her, instead settling for a seat on the opposite side of the room in the very front. Any time the professor paired them together for an activity or job, Felix didn’t even bother to spare her a glance. It was disheartening in ways and in others it was utterly infuriating.

Today was no different. She watched with a silent glare as they both tended to the horses, her hand dragging the brush gently down the stallion’s mane. Felix made silent work of cleaning the saddles and reins, not once did he say anything! Not even a scoff! “Felix?” Her voice was borderline accusatory just saying his name and he paused in polishing the leather briefly, but still, he didn’t look at her or reply. She at least knew he had heard her.

“I thought you had gone deaf, glad to see that’s wrong. However, this outcome is irking me a lot more.” Open with her thoughts, Felix finally looked at her with a rather pointed expression on his face.

“Whatever are you talking about? Can we get this done?” His reply is curt, turning back to the saddle to continue with his work. The girl grits her teeth, knowing he wouldn’t budge. It was unheard of for Felix to avoid confrontation… but for the time being, she was exhausted constantly trying to corner him and pull an answer out. At this rate, perhaps it was time to just let Felix do his own thing, after all, plenty had warned her about how he treated people as if they were the plague themselves. Some truth certainly rang in it now.

With the stables looking sufficient, the horses cared for and the riding gear repaired and polished, [Y/N] was the first to turn and leave, unlike in the past where she would try to get some sort of response from Felix at least. The man remained behind for a moment, watching silently as she walked away before releasing a quiet sigh of his own.

He hated upsetting her, truly he did. However, the last thing he needed was a distraction or something he viewed as an unnecessary quality of life. Felix had always and continued to put logic first and his feelings behind him. This was no different. He would lie to himself, saying things like; “I can do without. She and I weren’t that close anyway. It will be easy to forget.”

Except, he couldn’t do without. They had been close and she had been on his mind at every waking moment of every single day that passed. He felt as if it would drive him mad, but Felix seemed adamant that time would erase his fickle feelings. Days went by where the girl no longer spared him a glance, and if their eyes would meet by chance, her face would turn stern before quickly looking away as if he now repulsed her.

Sylvain was quick to notice, blowing a long whistle as his cheek laid in his hand during a lecture. “Didn’t think she could make those kinds of faces at you…” His voice seemed surprised, but in reality, both he and Ingrid knew Felix had a talent for stepping on toes. “I guess you finally chased another one off.”

“Sylvain, shut up. I am trying to read.” The exasperation was clear in Felix’s voice, flipping his pages wildly before stopping at random. However, even with his face turned down at the book and his brows knitted in concentration, Sylvain picked up the key clue the man wasn’t reading just because his eyes didn’t move from their spot. Ever the observant student deep down, the man sighed and rolled his eyes.

“You call me stupid at every possible chance yet can’t even admit to yourself how you’re feeling. It’s kinda sad really.” Before Felix could even jump at the opportunity to start a fight over the exchange, Sylvain perked up a considerable amount with clear curiosity. Turning his head to try and spot what the other was looking at, Felix spotted the sight of interest. [Y/N] was accompanied by a student sitting in on their lecture, one from the house of the Black Eagles to be exact. The two were getting along well despite the house rivalries, and the man seemed to certainly be enjoying himself.

“I forgot about him, Callun Forge, I heard their fathers are good friends. Apparently [Y/N’s] pops is trying to marry her off. Guess it makes sense he’d be first in line, looks like he’s been waiting for an opportunity like this.” Sylvain’s words pulled again at Felix’s temper, slamming the book closed and standing to pardon himself from the room. The redhead faked shock, looking after the swordsman before snickering to himself with a shake of his head.

“You really shouldn’t rile Felix up like that Sylvain, you know how angry he gets.” Ingrid’s lecturing from behind fell upon deaf ears. The slam of the door caused [Y/N] to jump briefly, glaring at the spot Felix had been just before the noise. However, her ‘lovely’ company continued merrily chatting her head off.

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It went on for days, the man’s incessant talking. It never ceased! At the rate things were going, she could feel annoyance boiling just at the sight of him. She knew her father meant well, and that she couldn’t upset the suitor considering the bonds their fathers shared… but he was making it harder and harder every day. Even now, Callun was following her around the monastery as she went to have lunch. “-You should have seen it, [Y/N], I was a true hero that day. The Goddess herself would have been enamored.” She rolled her eyes in secret.

Felix sat with Sylvain and Ingrid, a typical arrangement, but hearing the babbling fool coming from a mile away, his eyes stared at the entrance of the dining hall with an intense glare. Soon enough, [Y/N] walked through with the same man attached to her hip. He’d had enough of seeing him. Callun showed up to every lecture, every job and even accompanied them on their latest mission. He’d heard rumors that he would be asking to join the Blue Lions soon. Over his dead body.

Every tale he spun had Felix scoffing, and today was no different, but the second his hand bravely took her’s, he was practically fuming. “Felix?” Ingrid’s voice was cautious, leaning into view. “Why do you look so upset?”

“I’m not.” His reply was venomous, enough to prevent her from asking further questions, but the second he watched the man lean in to whisper something into [Y/N’s] ear, a Cheshire like grin on his face, Felix snapped. The way he shot out of his seat, hands slamming on the table before he paced their direction caught the attention of a few students. The closer he got, the more he could tell that her companion’s advances weren’t appreciated. Possessively, one of his arms found it’s way around her waist as his other hand smacked the offender away with a pointed glare.

“Hey, what the hell is your problem man?” He had guts, that was sure. Perhaps he hadn’t understood the fact Felix was more than just bark. Even [Y/N] looked bewildered, but he didn’t miss that small glimpse of relief.

“Do you make a pastime out of courting ladies that are already committed?” Felix sneered out the words, and the man’s face contorted into confusion at first before a slight trace of fear hit his eyes. His glare hardened further as he pulled the girl closer to his chest as if to prove his story. “What are you standing around for? Scram.” On command, Callun turned tail and ran. It wasn’t long after he could feel [Y/N’s] head tilt up against his chest. When Felix looked down, he was met with a pointed stare, unreadable at first but it soon turned into a devilish smirk.

“I get it now!~” Her voice was sing-song, tauntingly sweet as her finger jab against his chest accusingly. “You don’t seem like the type to get jealous, Felix. Or the type who runs from his problems. I guess you’re full of surprises, huh?” She had every right to embarrass him right now, after all the unnecessary pain he put her through, she felt he deserved a little punishment. “You know, you could’ve just said you liked me.”

“I like you.” Her teasing quickly backfired. Felix admitted it, unwavering with an honest intensity in his eyes. “Let’s… talk about this somewhere more private… please?” His eyes strayed to peering eyes uncomfortably, and the girl was quick to take his hand and pull him outside and into the unoccupied greenhouse.

“Spill it Felix, you spend weeks not talking to me and acting like I’m a nuisance. Then all of a sudden Callun shows up and you’re quick to jump up and make a scene. I’m not here to be wanted just when there’s competition, you know?” Her voice is accusatory at first, but by the end, it softens almost sadly. It pulls at his heart and he finds himself regretting his choices in the past.

“I don’t want you just because another man does, I did like you before that. It’s the whole reason I avoided you. I don’t need that commitment. It’s a distraction.” His voice is laced with frustration before it also softens but in a defeated mannerism. “Or at least I tried to convince myself it was. [Y/N], you confuse me. I’ve never felt this way before. I don’t like not knowing what will happen or how I’m feeling.” He shows vulnerability, something he tries to never do.

It’s silent for a moment before she gives an exhausted sigh and then pouts. “You’re no fair. It’s hard to be mad at you, you know?” Her body leans against his, and hesitantly he wraps his arms around her before dropping his head gently atop of her’s.

“I mean it… I like you.” His repeated confession is met with a hint of a giggle before the girl nuzzles into the crook of his neck to sneak it a simple kiss.

“I like you too, but you’re the one who has to explain this to my father. After all, he’s going to be very confused about why I never mentioned you.”

“Don’t talk about that right now.” Felix’s lecture sounds stern, but there’s a hidden smile placed on his lips and an expression of fondness washed over his face. He was lucky to have someone who understood his irrational ways and would accept his flaws. He wanted to do better in the future, he’d promised to himself he wouldn’t neglect her. [Y/N] meant so much to him. He wanted to make sure he expressed that through his future actions.

#felix x reader #fe3h felix #felix fire emblem #fe3h #fire emblem #Fire Emblem Three Houses #x reader #x reader requests #fire emblem x reader #felix fraldarius #felix fraldarius x reader #fe3h x reader #fe x reader #requests #request #requests open

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terreisa · 4 years ago

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Love Down the Line: Chapter 3

The last thing Indie musician Emma Swan needs is a gigantic wrench thrown in the workings of her biggest tour to date weeks before its launch. When her backing guitarist that caused the problem says she has the perfect solution Emma is skeptical but left with little choice but to accept. Unfortunately she isn't really prepared for said solution to be former Rock Star and leading man of Emma's teenage fantasies, Killian Jones. With no other options and a month of performing across the country ahead of her Emma just hopes she doesn't come to regret letting Killian onto her stage and into her life.

Ch 1, Ch 2, AO3 ~*CS*~

Portland, Maine- April 17th

Emma was lost in thought as she idly tapped at the rehearsal room’s piano keys, filling the space with a jumble of unmelodic notes. She knew she needed to take a break and eat something, like everyone else was but she couldn’t. There was something off about their last few run throughs and she was determined to figure it out.

One thing that wasn’t off was how well Killian Jones had enmeshed himself into the group in just one week. He had bonded with Will over growing up in England leading to inside jokes and references that had the two of them snickering away between songs. With Tink all he’d had to do was make one praising comment about the book she was reading and it looked like he was going to be in her good graces for the rest of time. As for her, well, the never ending verbal sparring matches were almost as fun as playing her music with him was.

They sounded good. Of course, there were still little idiosyncrasies and timing issues that needed to be worked out but Emma knew that by the time they hit the road everything would be running smoothly. What had been a pleasant surprise was how Killian seemed totally at ease playing second fiddle, as it were. She had seen him play live multiple times and knew exactly what a talent he was, and also how grand a showman.

The first couple of rehearsals after he’d joined them she’d waited warily for his ego to make an appearance. She had been certain that he would have been like too many of the men she’d met: unable to help making suggestions on how to play her own songs or offering advice she hadn’t asked for or needed. It had happened so often in her early days of playing paid gigs that Will had taken it upon himself to run interference after she’d had enough one night and given a guy a black eye. As the week had gone on without a single belittling comment from him in their emails, texts, or during rehearsals she’d reluctantly accepted that he actually seemed content to follow her lead and let her shine, despite her admittedly more limited skills

She idly let herself fall into the familiar chords of her song Snowdrops and Buttercups as she tried to suss out what was bothering her. It was the ballad that she’d picked to play towards the middle of her set, meant to give the others a little rest mid-show and her the chance to highlight her piano playing. The song was good, they were planning on releasing it mid-tour as the third single from the album but there was something a little off about it that had her coming back to it, trying to figure out why it wasn’t sounding how she wanted. She closed her eyes and played through the chorus again and then again, trying to hear what it was she was feeling.

“Did you have lessons?”

She smiled to herself at Killian’s question, only mildly startled by his voice. The answer was in the bio of her official website and on her Wikipedia page but it was nice to know he hadn’t researched her. Or at least was pretending that he hadn’t.

“On and off depending on the family I was with,” she said, not pausing in her playing though she moved on from the chorus, “Didn’t exactly make me a great player but a lot of practice and YouTube helped with that. I’ll never play Beethoven, that's for sure. Do you play?”

“Strictly guitar for me,” he said with a chuckle. “Though I do know Chopsticks and that one song from Big.”

She laughed, stopping her playing and turned towards him, “Your party trick I’m guessing?”

“Nah, my party trick involves a pair of handcuffs and my sparkling wit.”

He waggled his brows at her causing her to snort and shake her head. He was a flirt, it oozed out of his every pore, and the worst part was it seemed to be a default setting with him. It only made her feel off kilter and more resolved to not let herself get caught up in it, no matter how much her teenage self was obsessing over every syllable he uttered.

“The party usually ends when the cops show up Jones, but then again I’ve never been to the same kind of parties you have,” she said with a grin.

It faded as Killian grew somber.

“Aye, I suppose you’re right. Frightful things they are.”

With horror Emma remembered that the accident that had shattered his life into pieces had been after one of those kinds of parties. She turned back to the piano, embarrassed and a little ashamed of herself. After a moment’s thought she began playing what she hoped was a sufficient enough apology.

It was Killian’s turn to snort, “I’m Still Standing, love? Bit on the nose wouldn’t you say?”

“Figured it couldn’t hurt,” she said quietly, letting her hands fall still.

Silence settled over the room like an itchy blanket. She tried to keep from fidgeting, still feeling like she’d upset him despite his genial smile. Unable to take the quiet even though it had only been less than a minute she began playing again, deciding to speak through the music.

“I’ve noticed you’ve got quite the repertoire of classic rock in that head of yours,” he said, seemingly impressed. “First eighties Elton John, then seventies Billy Joel? Plus all those songs you tortured me with during my audition. Are you an audiophile as well? Do you have multiple copies of your favorite albums in their various forms?”

“Seems to me you’re the audiophile,” she pointed out, continuing to play. “I just happened to have worked at the diner that Ruby’s grandma owns and she refuses to put anything on the jukebox that was released later than nineteen seventy nine. The songs are considered classics for a reason, you know.”

“I’m well aware, seeing as I’ve learned to play my fair share of them. May I?” He motioned to the piano bench. She nodded and slid over, “And the eighties Elton John?”

“An attempt at saying sorry for putting my foot in my mouth,” she said, giving him an apologetic look. “It’s easier to do it with a song than actually saying the words. I am sorry though. Didn’t think.”

“There’s no need to apologize when I took no offense, lo- er, lass-” he reached up and scratched behind his ear, “Truth is, I’d rather endure the teasing than having people continue to tiptoe around me. Playing with a steady group of people has helped with that.”

“Well if you were expecting tact and manners from Will you were going to be disappointed from the start,” she said sardonically as she seamlessly transitioned from Billy Joel back to the song she’d been playing when he’d shown up. “And Tink isn’t much better, just a little more… cheery about it. Plus you’re friends with Ruby so you’ve kinda hit the jackpot with people not going to coddle you or whatever.”

“And you?”

“Pft, the nicest thing anyone’s said about getting to know me is that I’m prickly but in a good way. Ask Ruby about how long it took me to agree to go to one of the bonfire parties the popular kids at school threw.”

Killian hummed, “I wouldn’t say you’re prickly, Swan, just a bit guarded. No fault in that.”

She stopped playing, stunned by his comment. Truth was she didn’t have many friends outside her bandmates and a select few people back in Storybrooke. None of them had understood her so completely or so easily. With a little jolt of surprise she realized she already thought of him as a friend.

“So is that how you met Ruby, at her grandmother’s diner?” he continued, somehow not noticing she was having a revelation beside him.

“Uh, sort of,” she said with a little shake of her head, turning to face him, “I needed money and Granny’s was the only place willing to hire me. It’s not exactly easy to get a job in a small town when you’re already pinned as the school troublemaker even though you’ve only been there for a month. Ruby was in a couple of my classes and put in a good word for me.”

“Have you been playing together all this time?” He asked, genuine curiosity lighting up his eyes.

“No-” she winced, not used to telling her life story when most people she’d met lately were already aware of it from interviews or reading it online, “I hadn’t been playing much when I got moved to Storybrooke.”

“Got moved?”

She tilted her head at him, narrowing her eyes, “Really? You haven’t already read all this?”

His shoulders slumped and when he looked at her his gaze was troubled but clear, “Swan, I, more so than most, know what it’s like when people think they know everything about you because of what they’ve seen or read. I try to avoid the fodder as much for my own sake as for others. I’d rather learn about someone the old fashioned way: through conversation.”

“Oh-” she relaxed before tensing up again in embarrassment, “I, uh, should probably tell you that I know a lot about you from the, uh, fodder.”

To her surprise he laughed, “Not to flaunt the size of my ego but I’m not surprised. I don’t think there’s anyone, especially in our line of business, that doesn’t know my life’s story. Made for quite a few headlines for a while there.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, apologizing for so much more than what she already knew about his life.

“Bah-” he waved his hand in dismissal, “No need for that. It is what it is. So, you hadn’t been playing…”

“So, if uh, it wasn’t clear before I was a foster kid. I was moved around a lot, mostly in Boston, a few years in the midwest. Some of the families had pianos or a neighbor that did and a lot of times they gave lessons for extra income. A couple of them taught me because I wanted to learn and I was considered part of the family, at least for a little while. It was nice, learning that way, but it never lasted,” she said with a sigh, giving him a half-hearted shrug.

“Best way to learn is from someone who loves doing it,” he murmured, his gaze intent.

“Yeah, well by the time I got to Storybrooke I was sixteen and hadn’t lived somewhere with a piano for almost five years. So, of course, the group home I was placed in was run by big believers in the arts and creativity in keeping kids out of trouble. They had all kinds of art supplies, ran a little community theater, and, surprise surprise, owned almost every instrument you could think of-” she felt herself frown and gave him a shrug, “I still don’t know how they knew but the Nolans showed me their piano the second I stepped into their house. I thought I was only going to be there temporarily, I’d already been at three other homes in the six months before I landed there, and thought I would jinx it if I let myself get attached to playing piano again. Unfortunately while the Nolans weren’t strict about much you had to do something creative, even if it was just drawing stick figures in a composition notebook. Which I did, by the way, for almost six months.”

Killian laughed, a rich sound that carried into his words, “Those I’d love to see.”

“Never,” she grinned, “That notebook will never see the light of day since it also has my first attempts at songwriting in it.”

“Ah,” he nodded wisely, “So after six months you finally ended up back behind the piano then?”

“Nope. I picked up a guitar. David, Mr. Nolan, would play almost every night after dinner and it seemed easy enough to learn.”

Emma could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. That was only a small part of the reason she’d decided to learn how to play the guitar. The real reason was sitting next to her, listening to her talk with rapt attention.

“It was months before Ruby found out I played and then a few more before I finally caved and started bringing a guitar to the bonfires. By then I was back at the piano and had a few attempts at songs in that notebook. I, uh, stopped again for a while-” she paused, not wanting to get into why exactly she’d stopped, not when it was the worst thing that had happened to her and while she had only reluctantly realized that he was becoming a friend. She took a breath and gave him what she hoped was a convincing smile, “Ruby had picked it up by then too. We’d play together at bonfires and picnics but she never got as serious about it as I did. She’s the one that convinced me to try out some open mic nights.”

“And the rest is history?” He asked gently.

“More or less,” she answered, feeling much steadier. “When I finally got to the point of needing a backing band she was the first one I called.”

“And then Will and Tink?”

“Tink was brought in by the label and I’d met Will at an open mic night where he drunkenly read terrible poems about his ex and tried to steal my wallet,” she said nonchalantly, though she was glad to move onto safer topics. “I broke his nose and he found me the next day wondering if I was interested in a drum player.”

“In a personal or a professional manner?” Killian asked with a raised brow.

“Ew, as if I’d ever want to sleep with Will. Gross,” she said with a scrunched nose. “He’d seen me at other mic nights and figured I’d be going places and wanted to get in on it. He was the second person I called. From there the rest is history.”

“Not much different from my own beginnings, though we were discovered at a pub we’d been playing at for a few months and already had a few EPs recorded,” he smiled wistfully, “We were also called the Jolly Rogers then.”

“Why did the name get changed? I mean, you guys didn’t change your sound or anyone in the band or anything.”

“Aha, Ruby said you were a fan but didn’t say how much!” Killian crowed, as if he’d discovered a cache of hidden treasure. “Those EP’s weren’t even released stateside and I’ve never authorized them for streaming. You’ve got a little pirate in you, don’t you Swan?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She quipped back despite her complete and utter embarrassment at having seemingly given away how big of a fan of his she was.

“Perhaps I would,” he said softly, his gaze somehow just as soft.

She was saved from having to come up with some kind of reply as Will burst into the room practically yelling into his phone with Tink trailing behind rolling her eyes at him. Killian smoothly rose from the piano bench but paused, pressing his finger down on one of the higher keys. When she looked up at him he was watching her carefully.

“What?” She asked, beginning to feel self conscious.

“You should move Snowdrops and Buttercups to later in the show. It’s a good song but drags down the show where it’s placed now. Bite of Iron is a better fit for the lineup as it stands. Granted, it is a bit older but I believe it’s a fan favorite? Something to consider, anyway.”

He gave her a hesitant smile, hitting the note one more time before moving towards his guitar. She sat unmoving, wanting to be mad that he felt he could mess around with the lineup she’d spent weeks perfecting but she couldn’t. Not when he’d figured out what had been bothering her and offered up a pretty good solution without being condescending. She only wished the song that he had suggested hadn’t been the one that was the hardest for her to play.

Unfortunately she also knew it would absolutely fit in perfectly with the flow of sound and feeling of that section of the show. It would also get a huge response from the crowd because as much as it was a fan favorite she’d never played it live before. Looking at Killian, where he was absently picking at his guitar as Will talked a mile a minute at him, she thought that if he could get back to playing in front of an audience after what he’d been through then she could get through one measly song.

Taking a deep breath she spun around on the bench and addressed the room, “Hey, guys, I’ve got some changes I want to make to the lineup.”

#captain swan #captain swan ff #captain swan fan fic #captain swan fanfiction #captain swan fan fiction #cs ff #ouat ff #my writing

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xlehukax · 4 years ago

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Start of Something - A Fateful Meeting (Pt. 1)

-Writing a little series on here as a warm up! In accordance to @orangelegs‘s Hogwarts AU! Updates won’t be on a set time, but they’ll come eventually-

The Gryffindor and Slytherin Quidditch tryout Friendly. An event attended by the most avid of local Quidditch folk of Hogwarts… scoping out the upcoming and new Quidditch players could mean seeing the future of the sport. Many a Quidditch master has come out of these tryouts, and it makes sense that people would flock.

Virgil didn’t think this many though. He’s been sitting on one of the benches close to the commentator’s booth, watching in thinly veiled apprehension as people fill in the seats next to him. The only reason he’s here is because Logan asked him to be: the commentator frets endlessly that he’s going to be left behind by the other rotating student commentators. They’re not nearly as statistically advanced as Logan… perhaps a bit more charismatic, but otherwise, Logan is ahead of the game by far. His sketchbook lies open, waiting for some interesting drawing to adorn it. Virgil sighs. Who is he kidding?

He’s also here to check out Roman King. As Logan put it, he’s ‘infatuated’. The Gryffindor had been a chaser for three years now, one of the very few to be put on the team in his very first year. Popular as all hell, maybe one of the most talented chasers ever to grace the school team, regarded largely as being the most attractive guy in school and completely oblivious to his existence.

Why wouldn’t he be though? Virgil’s just a quiet, rude, prickly Ravenclaw. Besides Logan, who he’d met in childhood and not Hogwarts, he has all of zero friends. His sketchbook mocks him with its emptiness now: they both know that the only thing going to be drawn in it is little doodles of Roman flying about on his broom.

“I’m sorry, is this seat taken?”

“I guess now it is. Sit, fine, just don’t bother me,” Virgil hisses at the offending person, an enthusiastic Hufflepuff. His face has game paint, done in Gryffindor colours. It’s crude, but not the worst Virgil has seen sitting in the crowd. The boys things are thrown at his feet, and he produces his wand from his pocket and uses an altered version of the Red Sparks Spell to show his pride loudly and boisterously. Fuckin Hufflepuffs.

“Could you cut that out? I’m trying to focus here,”

“Oh! I’m sorry. Should I leave?”

“Well, you already got all your things all over so I’d say you should just sit tight. Don’t want to make things a bigger mess,”

“O-okay, I just don’t want to intrude, but if you say it’s alright…”

The Hufflepuff adjusts his glasses and settles next to Virgil. It’s only a few moments of silence before he breaks the silence again.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot. Hi! I’m Patton!”

“Hi Patton, I don’t care,” Virgil rolls his eyes, and starts sketching the number 6 chaser who is stretching down on the grass of the pitch.

“Oh hey, great drawing,” Patton notes, peering over Virgil's shoulder, “Is that Roman King?”

Virgil pulls the book to his chest, a plethora of cursing sounding off in his mind. No no, it won’t matter, everyone has a crush on Roman! Or you can say that this is just for the paper, or I’m practicing or something…

“Do you have any manners? Mind your own business!”

“I’m sorry, again… um… who are you here to see?” Patton continues to pester Virgil. Virgil rolls his eyes, accepting at this point that the only thing that will stop Patton from attempting conversation is moving from this stellar seat, and that’s not going to happen. Best just talk to this ‘Patton’ and hope he stops talking sooner rather than later. And doesn’t say anything about the sketches.

“The name’s Virgil- I’m a friend of the commentator. He likes someone to give him constructive criticism about his commentary after the match. According to him, I’m the only one he can trust to be brutally honest with him,” Virgil sighs, leaning back to look at Patton and putting his sketchbook aside. Patton’s eyes go comically large behind his glasses, and a light blush dusts his cheeks as he peers at the dark haired commentator in the booth nearby.

“You know Logan… I- uh- that’s his name, right?”

“Uh… yeah! How do you know him?” Color me surprised. Someone here flustered over the nerd.

When he thinks about it, Logan certainly isn’t unattractive. But they’ve been friends for so long, he honestly doesn’t see Logan in that way at all.

“He sits next to me in Transfigurations. Logans… really super smart. And nice… he helps me with the switching spells when I can’t get them. He makes them look easy,” Patton squirms in his seat, his blush deepening. Virgil’s not stupid: he knocks Patton’s shoulder with his. This Hufflepuff has more to him than Virgil initially pegged him for if he’s holding a flame for pocket protector.

“You like him!”

“Nooo!”

“Yeah, you do, I’m not dumb,”

“Well- if I do then… you like Roman!”

Virgil is flushed all at once, and shoves Patton. Hard. Patton simply giggles, laughing at him. Virgil can’t help how the corner of his mouth rugs up into a half smile.

“Shut up!! Doesn’t everyone?”

“It’s true! Ah! Don’t worry, I won’t tell him,” Patton presents his pinky in childlike fashion, to which Virgil ignores in favor of the more important knowledge there.

“You know Roman?”

“Yeah, we’ve been friends since the Sorting Hat in our first year.”

The horn is blown for the Friendly to begin, and briefly the two boys turn their attention to the match. Roman is there, flying about faster than anyone else on the pitch, his brother Remus on the opposing Slytherin team seemingly purposefully beating every matter of ball at him.

There’s a new Seeker on the Slytherin team as well… it’s easy to tell who it is: Janus, the one who everyone is sure is He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named spawn due to his magic-induced snake features. Almost all the other players completely ignore him, letting Janus rely on himself to dodge incoming Bludgers on the hunt for the snitch rather than act as a team. Sort of sad, but the potential Seeker seems serene. Remus, oddly enough, is the only one who consistently protects Janus: wisely, he sticks by the Seeker knocking all the bludgers sent his way to Roman and bumping the Gryffindor seeker when he gets too close. Logan points this out from his tower.

“Patton-” “Virgil-” they overlap each other, both laughing after.

“You go first,” Patton allows.

“Now, this is only if you want to, but what if we introduced our friends to each other? I’ll get Logan to open up to you, if you can get me a solid introduction with Roman. Butter me up and all that. How does the afterparty in the courtyard sound?”

“Deal!” Patton squeals, presenting his hand to shake. This time, Virgil takes his hand wholeheartedly.

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ancientechos · 4 years ago

Text

Omen of Beginning

Emet-Selch/Arianna ♡ 2714 words ♡ Revenant AU

This idyllic little town is so very boring...

But for the moment it suits Solus dus Galvus fine.

There’s little to do, he can even nap on the job...so long as Cyrus doesn’t see fit to nag him...

“Say, Sol,” Speak of the devil, and he arrives. “I think that girl might be a revenant.”

A sharp exhale leaves the Garlean soldier’s nose as he levels an unimpressed stare at his supposed best friend.

“And which girl might you be referring to?” They’re standing in the middle of a mostly crowded marketplace...aside from the obvious berth most of the residents give them. “There are many here, as I’m sure you can see...and none of them have any obvious traits.”

“That one.” Cyrus jerks his head slightly. “The girl with the black hair, and the basket. She might be hiding a tail or something underneath that skirt of hers, you never know...”

Another sigh.

Unfortunately, this time Orphus sees fit to interrupt their conversation.

“You should check.” He claps Solus on the shoulder, and he has to resist the urge to shake the hand off. Annoyance bridles in his stomach.

“Why don’t you do it?” he snaps with a thinly veiled glare. The other man shrugs.

“You’re supposed to be good at that revenant finding stuff. Even Cyrus says so...right?”

“Indeed! So I think you should take the chance, old friend, let us know what you find.”

“There’s no reason for me -- “

Just as he begins speaking, some sort of commotion rises up. It’s from the direction Cyrus had pointed in the first place.

Someone appears to be heckling the dark-haired woman for something; a second later, it becomes clear. Someone is attempting to pull something out of her grasp.

When neither Orphus nor Cyrus make a move, Solus sighs yet again, rolling his shoulders as he pushes himself away from the wall. One hand goes to his gunblade as he strides forth. The crowd disperses almost immediately, but the scruffy-looking girl grappling at the woman’s -- belongings? -- does not.

“Some sort of problem here?” Solus asks boredly. It’s almost comical how quickly the red-haired girl halts. She turns slowly -- one eye is obscured by an eyepatch. The remaining one glowers at him until she spies the blade.

Then she runs off and down an alley.

He doesn’t bother making chase, instead looking to the dark-haired woman. The one Cyrus had said might be a revenant. Up close, she certainly doesn’t look it. How on earth had he come to that conclusion?

“Are you all right?” he supposes he should ask, if only because she stares at that -- ahh, it’s a book. Dimly, he wonders why a brigand would want to steal something like that.

The woman gives a short nod, her gaze meeting his as she clutches the book close to her chest. Something feels odd, so he prompts her again.

“What’s your name?”

Instead of responding to him, she opens her book. Again, Solus cannot help the sense of wrongness -- why does she not simply speak?

A moment later, after an apologetic glance up with furrowed brows, the dark-haired woman holds the book up to face him. He squints at the words written neatly there.

My name is Arianna Rowen.

One of his brows lifts.

“A mute...?” So that was the reason for the lack of verbal acknowledgment? Well, he supposes it matters little, assuming it does not hinder her ability to work. Certainly does not make her someone especially abnormal. “And what do you do?”

There’s no prefix by her name. Likely she’s missed one of the tribunus’ announcements...or, rather, all of them. Perhaps she’s merely a traveller...though she doesn’t exactly wear the garb of one.

He shifts his weight to one leg as he awaits her response, watching her scribble in that book of hers. His golden gaze flicks away a moment to watch the other passersby, until she holds up the tome again. Of course neither Cyrus nor Orphus are anywhere to be found.

I am an herbalist. I make poultices and teas at home.

“And you live here?”

Yes.

Arianna...

The murmurs of his colleagues reverberates in his ears. If she has anything to hide, she should deny him his request.

“Say, miss Rowen, I’m afraid I’m awfully thirsty. Would you mind if I joined you for a cup of one of those teas of yours? I’d pay you, of course.” He makes a vague gesture toward his coin pouch at his belt. He watches her watch him, as her green eyes flick from his face to the gunblade strapped at his back.

Not exactly what he’d wanted, but still —

Arianna gives a small nod of assent.

Solus’ brow quirks again, though he makes no comment. Perhaps she really does have nothing to hide. He is...relieved? The prickly sensation fades.

When she makes note that she still has some shopping to do, he bids her to go on her way.

“There’s no need for me to escort you, I assume...unless you’re worried about a repeat of this incident.”

No, thank you. It is all right.

He hasn’t asked if it was all right, and frankly he doesn’t think he cares. He’s simply curious.

Will she try to slip away? Surely that’s what a revenant might do. Use the opportunity to escape to whatever little hole she might have for herself...

Maybe he’s daring her to do so.

He leans lightly against the brick wall, eyes hawklike as he scans the crowd. There are other exit points to the market, of course, but he is ever so intrigued. If she’ll simply try to leave.

The minutes feel too long. The sense of unease returns, burdening him with its weight. He wants to snap his teeth at a nonexistent bit -- he has no idea why he’s this annoyed --

And suddenly she is there, coming to a nervous halt in front of him. Her basket is full of various plants and small cloths, wrapping...something. One of her hands lifts to run a hand through her hair as she fidgets.

“...Oh.” He can’t tell whether he’s disappointingly surprised or surprisingly disappointed. “I didn’t think you’d come back.”

He doesn’t miss the confused glances the other residents send his way, and doesn’t miss the way she tenses beneath their heavy stares.

“All done, then? Shall we go?”

________

The prickly unease returns as they walk. Not only does she not take him to any of the surrounding homes, as he’d assumed she would...

She leads him outside the town, into the surrounding woods.

Her footsteps are weary as she glances back at him every few moments. He doesn’t expect her to speak, and he doesn’t attempt to make conversation. Instead, he glances between the trees, trying to discern just why he feels so uncomfortable.

There is always a catch.

If she truly thinks she might be able to overpower him here...he snorts at the very thought. She doesn’t say anything, of course.

Perhaps she has friends, waiting in ambush.

Before long, they’ve turned off the main road onto a well-trodden path. She has to push some of the branches back as she walks, thoughtfully holding them just a moment longer for him. Charming, but unnecessary. The way opens up to show him a small quaint cottage. As the woman’s strides grow more confident, he knows without having to ask that this is her home.

The smell of the woods gives way to the scent of various herbs as they approach. Some are vaguely recognisable, others he has no idea of. She leads him into the wooden home; the slats are dark, the room feels small, yet somehow it feels oddly warm.

Arianna bids him with a gentle gesture to sit at the table in her kitchen. He reclines in his seat, glancing about. Charming.

“What a nice place.” He can’t see anything especially out of the ordinary, either. “I like it.” She reddens slightly at the compliment, setting her basket down.

Thank you, sir...

He stares at the formality for a moment.

“Oh, I didn’t introduce myself, did I? How terribly rude of me. My apologies. My name is Solus dus Galvus. No need for sir.” He takes one last look around the oddly comforting space. “You should introduce yourself as Arianna bas Rowen. I don’t suppose you have any Garlean licenses...?”

Her blank stare speaks volumes. He waves a hand carelessly. Understandable. He’s beginning to get a hang of her situation. He sympathises; why go anywhere when you can simply stay somewhere safe and warm?

“I’ll have someone send them over. Now, about that tea...” The subject finished, his smile is easy and light as he prompts her. With a start, she quickly begins to prepare a cup of drink for him as water heats on a modest flame.

There is nothing here. There’s no reason to even begin to suspect her. Simply a quiet herbalist making ends meet in her little home in the woods...

Nothing fantastical or otherworldly about her. She is normal.

The tea is warm, sweet; he asks on a whim whether she has any blends for sleep, and she promises to give him some. The longer he stays, the more she relaxes, whatever apparent misgivings she’d had to his presence disappearing. Just as his of hers.

And all the better for it.

Once it’s eventually time to take his leave, he stands from her presence and fishes open his coin pouch.

“Here you are, for the tea and...the other tea, I suppose. Thank you.”

That anxious sensation returns, and he’s reminded once more --

There is always a catch...

But there is none this time. She merely smiles serenely at him and sends him on his way with a small bag of dried herbs. A different sort to the one she’d used in her tea for him. It serves him well, up until he scrapes the bottom of the bag with his spoon and has to tip the remainders of the leaves out. Never has he slept so well as when he brews a cup of this before bed.

________

When she approaches him this day, she seems almost pleased to see him. Solus tries not to allow such a fact to cloud his ego.

A difficult thing, all things considered.

She holds out a greeting for him, asking how he is today.

“I’m quite exhausted.” His head tilts slightly as he observes her. “I suppose you wouldn’t mind if I snuck to your bed for a nap...?”

Her reaction has the corner of his mouth curving in amusement. Almost immediately, her entire face reddens as she stares at him with wide eyes. Before she can fumble to reply, he continues.

“I was just joking.” He sighs quietly. “Though I suppose I wouldn’t really turn down a chance to sleep. I likely shouldn’t.”

Arianna regards him, her expression strangely resolute. She turns to a new page in her book.

I could bring you tea. Not for sleeping, for staying awake.

Solus blinks at the paper for a moment.

“Would you? I’d appreciate it.” Did she have a drink for everything?

With a soft nod, she goes back the way she had come; when she returns, along with her basket, she holds a mug of hot tea.

Holding the cup in one hand, be brings it to up to inhale the steam. Already he can feel the weight on his eyelids lessening. Curious. And it tastes just as delicious as it smells. He thinks he can feel the remnants of sugar crystals on his tongue.

“Marvelous, thank you.” The soldier gives her a small smile, and makes to reach for his coin purse; she quickly shakes her head, reaching out a hand as if to stop him. She halts just short of touching his wrist.

“No money? Are you sure?” She nods. Unfortunately, he can’t resist the urge to prod at her again. “I know I’m your favourite customer, but preferential treatment is still a bit...I do hope no one is listening to us...”

He cannot help but laugh at her reaction as she gapes at him, then turns her face away.

________

It’s ridiculous for him to feel anxious of anyone finding him here. He’s merely enjoying a cup of tea on his break.

There’s nothing, no one to find.

So it vexes him that he can never shake off that sensation as he approaches the cottage. As if he’s doing something he shouldn’t.

It’s not as if he cares. he does what he wants. And if any of his colleagues have anything to say about it, it hasn’t been to his face.

So Solus doesn’t care.

The irritating feeling fades with every sip of warm, soothing tea.

________

There is something.

Something in the air. It nags and prickles against his skin, if only he could scratch it out. Then maybe he might feel some relief. But he knows not what it is, not even where it is, so there is nothing he can do but grit his teeth and bear with it.

Perhaps it is simply the poor weather striking at his nerves. It’s dark. It’s been raining for hours; he’s soaking wet and cold. Annoyed, mostly. He wants to go home, drink tea, sleep. But there’s no rest for the righteous; he’ll wait until his turn to leave. He glances at the chronometer on his wrist. It should be about time...

A sharp clicking of heels on pavement behind him catches his attention; the sound stifles and grows hesitant as their owner approaches. He turns.

It’s her. His previously tense muscles relax as he lets loose a sigh past his lips.

“Oh, the fine maiden from the woods.” Solus cocks a brow; her basket this time is covered in cloth, her head burdened by a large cap. Even her hands are covered now. The rain? Ah, she cannot write like this, can she —

“Going to the market?”

She gives a small nod.

“At a time like this? I assume it must be some sort of dire emergency.” He’s vaguely disappointed she can’t stay and chat. One curse of the rain is that there’s no one to even watch.

All he gets in response is another nod -- stiffer this time, but a new expression all on its own. “Well, I shan’t keep you. Go on.” No sense in causing the woman undue stress, with whatever it is on her mind...

He shifts away. Something about her motion is oddly clumsy this time as she makes to trot past him. The sensation grows and grows like a bubble threatening to burst.

Her foot stubs against the uneven pavement. He reaches to grasp her upper arm, but she flinches away and sprawls onto the ground. There’s indignation and confusion at her reaction --

Ah, there it is. Her dress.

The bubble swells and deflates all in a singular moment.

Where her feet should be are not heels, but hooves.

His mind goes blank. He can hear nothing but the rain and empty noise in his head.

Her...?

His tongue clicks sharply against his teeth. If this were a dream, it would be quite nice if he could wake up now...

Arianna’s fearful expression as she stares up at him tells him otherwise. Another soft sigh leaves him, and he reaches a hand to grasp at hers, pulling her to her feet.

It all makes sense. All of it. He almost feels dizzy.

All because he hadn’t wanted to...

One blessing of the rain is that there is no one else here to see.

Clenching his jaw, he gives her hand a squeeze -- not to bruise, nor to intimidate, but some vague reassurance. He isn’t mute, but he’s lost his words for the moment, and he doesn’t want her to run away.

Deep in thought, he pulls her in the direction of the woods, and she follows. They have a lot of talking to do, after all.

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