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midgardianweasley · 3 years

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Build-a-bear adventures

Build-a-bear adventures.

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: A top trained assassin, her girlfriend, and a build-a-bear workshop, what better way to spend a day off.

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: Agonisingly fluffy.

I was planning on posting angst, but, decided on a fluff instead<33

“But babe. Babe. Babe.” You poked your girlfriend, fully aware that with every prod, you were only contributing to the headache worthy eye rolls she had been giving you for the past hour. You were joking, of course you were, she knew that, but she also knew that it was possible you were about to be single in 0.2 of a second if you didn’t stop poking her.

With a sarcastic smile and a deep breath, she turned her head towards you, momentarily stopping your movements as you returned a sickeningly sweet smile back.

“Yes?”

“I don’t think you understand.”

“I do understand.”

“This is life or death.” You spoke with a poker face, a weak attempt to try and make your point valid.

“I think that may be exaggerating just a little bit honey.” She chuckled lightly at your tone and the way you moved in your spot on the sofa, now having your legs crossed in front of you, hands enthusiastically moving in front of you.

“No. No, see, you don’t understand! We need to do this!”

“Is my unconditional love not enough?”

“No.”

“Ouch.” She dramatically placed her hand on her chest, a smirk plastered onto her face as she watched you rile yourself up with every sentence.

“Okay, sorry, I didn’t mean that, your unconditional love is more than enough, and while I unconditionally love you too, that doesn’t change the fact that this is a necessity.”

“Like the ones from the jungle book?”

You groaned loudly, throwing your head back as the assassin teased you.

“Baby, please!” You moved once again, now clambering onto her lap with your hands interlocked behind her neck, your faces mere inches away from hers. Her hands immediately went to your waist to steady you, pure energy coursed through your veins as you tried to convince Natasha to go ahead with your idea and she wasn’t certain you wouldn’t fall off of you if she didn’t hold you down.

“You seriously want to?”

“Yes.”

“Today?”

“Yes.”

“Instead of cuddling in bed with movies?” Her eyebrows raised in question, not faltering as she watched you pretend to ponder, stroking an imaginary beard on your chin.

“Yes.” You smiled, your inner child shining through.

Knowing she wasn’t going to win, she sighed gently, running a hand through your hair and giving you a quick kiss on your temple before tapping your thighs to signal for you to stand up.

“Alright. Get ready and we’ll go.”

“Really?” You squealed, clapping your hands together as you rocked back and forth on your heels.

“Really. Now hurry and get your shoes on, we don’t want to get stuck in traffic.”

She watched with nothing but adoration as you whizzed off to get ready to leave, swearing that she’s never seen you move so quickly in her life. Despite her playful protest, she walked over to the kitchen counter to pick up her car keys, swinging them around her pointer finger as she walked over to the doorway of the compound living room.

‘I can’t believe I'm doing this.’ She thought.

Although she’ll deny it to anyone that asks, she’s absolutely whipped for you.

“I’m ready!” Your voice called out, encouraging Natasha to shrug her leather jacket on and walk towards her smiling girlfriend, taking her hand as they walked out together with content smiles on their faces.

‘Let’s do this.’

_______________________

It didn’t take long to arrive at your destination, your eyes immediately drew themselves to the store windows filled with stuffed bears in a variety of different outfits, some bears were dressed up to fit a theme, some bears were characters from loved movies, some were just bears in dungarees.

That’s right. You’ve managed to bring a trained assassin to a build-a-bear workshop. Why?

To get matching bears.

You looked towards Natasha, a huge grin on your face, only faltering slightly as you were met with her hands and forehead on the drivers wheel. You tugged on her sleeve, ignoring her disagreement, her head not leaving the wheel, but turned to face you.

“Stop being silly, c’mon, you’re looking forward to it! I know you are!”

“Babe. We’re parked outside of a teddy store.”

“Exactly! It’s fun, you’re excited, I'm excited, let’s go!”

You didn’t hesitate to open your car door, jumping out of the car and shutting the door behind you, the redhead not far behind you as she once again took your hand, reminding you how lucky you are that she loves you. Your response was a simple kiss on her cheek, a small blush following shortly afterwards.

“You’re cute.” You pinched her cheek.

“Yeah yeah, let’s go get our bears.”

_______________________

“So, that’s both of your bears stuffed, do you guys want to put voice boxes in them?” The kind staff member asked the pair of you.

You glanced towards Natasha, silently asking if she’d like one or not. She gave you a brief smile before looking back at the woman helping you with your bears.

“Sure, I don’t see why not.” She winked at you before following the woman over to another station within the store. There were rows and rows of different shapes and coloured voice boxes to choose from.

You had the option of choosing a pre-recorded sound, like animal sounds or a bunch of different ‘i love you.’ in different voices. You didn’t mind what voice you had, honestly, you would’ve been content with an ‘i love you’ from Elsa at this point. However, you saw your girlfriend make a beeline for the ones that you record your own message into.

“You’re gonna do your own one?” You asked, moving over to stand beside her.

“Nope. I’m making one for yours.” She said proudly, holding two of the small items in her hand, holding it out for you to take one. You couldn’t help but feel your heartbeat quicken at her words. This is the sweetest thing you’ve ever done with someone else, and to think she wasn’t even that eager to come in the first place. You knew she’d have fun.

Taking the small blue speaker from her hand, you were instructed to press the button on the back of the plastic, hold it down to speak, and release it when you were finished, but it can only be a short message. The both of you tucked your bears under your arm, bringing the box to your mouth and cupping it so that it would come out loud and clear, and so the other couldn’t hear what you were saying.

Once your messages were done, you handed each other the speaker to place in the paw that had a ‘press me’ sign sewed into it. The woman ensured it was inserted correctly before taking them elsewhere to be sewn up, leaving you both to look at the racks of tiny clothes hung on the wall.

It was almost as difficult as choosing clothes for yourself, there were too many options, and every single one was adorable. How did literal children do this?

“Please tell me you can’t decide on an outfit either.” The Russian spoke from beside you, her gaze focused on the fabrics, styles and patterns in front of you.

“It’s easier trying to take a pop tart off of the demi-god at home than trying to pick a pair of jeans and a t-shirt for a stuffed animal. What the hell?” Your arms gestured to the wall in front of you, exasperated as you tried to decide whether you wanted the blue jeans or black.”

“Hi guys, here are your bears, just letting you know, there’s also some dresses over there if you want to check them out.” The woman smiled, watching as you and Natasha shared a glance of horror.

The two of you were gonna be here for a while.

______________________

Finally, you and Nat had dressed both your bears. You chose a pair of black jeans, a white t-shirt and a black leather jacket for yours, and Natasha had chosen a Y/F/O. It appeared as though each of you had made ‘mini me’s’ of the other, and they seemed pretty damn accurate too.

After successfully creating and dressing your bears, it was time to name them, pay, and then you could both go home and relax. You had no idea building a bear could be so exhausting.

Both you and Natasha had to pick a name. You thought it over, whereas Nat had just rushed right in, choosing to call her bear ‘honey.’, the nickname she always reserved for you. Gripping your bear tightly, you observed the birth certificate being printed out, the name, the owner’s name and the date clearly written in bold, black letters. You could’ve sworn you saw Natasha’s eyes light up when she was handed the sheet of paper.

“What about you, miss?” The woman asked, ready to type in whatever name you gave her. Glancing behind you quickly, you caught the eye of your girlfriend behind you, immediately knowing what to call it.

“Snoopy, please.”

You heard one loud and short laugh erupt from Natasha’s lips, her hand shot to cover her mouth, not intending to be so disruptive when she heard what you had called it.

‘Snoopy’ is the name of a cartoon character, which was probably what people would think you named the bear after. In reality, it wasn’t that at all.

When you first met the team, you were informed of what everyone’s roles were and how they contributed to the group. There were supersoldiers, scientists, a god, all different kinds of people, including the incredibly attractive spy. When you went on your first mission, she had to hack into a computer to retrieve some stolen data, but took her time to also look at some other things they had on there too, just to kill time.

The first words you said to her on that mission that wasn’t to do with what direction you were running in, was ‘Alright, hold off Snoopy, you can do that in your spare time, hurry up.’, and at first she was annoyed with the nickname, claiming she wasn’t snooping, nor does she ever ‘snoop’, but she soon took it in her stride. It was still a running joke between the pair of you 2 years down the line, and you never let her forget it.

“Nice name, babe.” She coughed, unable to fully settle down from her laughing fit.

“Why, thank you! Yours isn’t so bad yourself.” You spoke as you blew her a kiss that she grabbed in thin air and pretended to shove into her jean pocket, earning a small shake of the head before you took your printed certificate and went to purchase the bears.

_______________________

Once you got back to the compound, the both of you were completely shattered, unable to keep your eyes open to watch some TV before bed. Eager to get some sleep, the two of you just ended up changing into your pyjamas, following your shared night routine before collapsing onto your bed.

You lay beside her, still able to smell her perfume after so many hours, the scent making your eyelids feel like rocks. Grabbing your bear, you put it in between you, Natasha doing the same thing, before snuggling up close together under the covers. She reached over to put some fallen hair behind your ear, smiling gently at you as she did so, the gesture lazily returned.

“Thank you for suggesting today, baby. I really enjoyed myself.” She whispered, a murmur of agreement following her words.

“Thank you for taking us Natty, I had fun.” You mumbled with closed eyes, sleep quickly taking over.

“Get some sleep, my love.”

You nodded once before responding. “G’night Nat.”

“Goodnight baby.”

And that was you, out like a light.

Natasha reached over to give you a kiss on the forehead as her final goodnight, not realised that she’d leant on the teddy in the process, only noticing when she heard your voice in a non sleepy state.

“I’m madly in love with you, Romanoff.” She heard you laugh, followed by an excited “I’m done!”, obviously you forgot to let go of the button after you recorded the initial message, but it had made it even more special. She couldn’t help but adore you with every bone in her body.

You weren’t awake now, but when you were, she hoped to see your reaction when you listened to her message in your bear, the words spoken in Russian, but you’d heard them before, so you’d definitely know what it meant.

“Moye serdtse tvoye, lyubov' moya.” (My heart is yours, my love.)

She was right.

She’s absolutely whipped.

Taglist: @natashas-favourite-knives @eilarch @natashaswifey @lostandsearching @wandaromanova @pottahishotasf @d14n4ol @xxromanoffxx

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shijiujun · 4 years

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[END 2020] My Top 9 Danmei Novel Picks of the Year

As a part of my Round Up post for the year, here’s my pick of favourite danmei novels, that I’ve read! This is sort of an accompaniment to my previous danmei rec list over HERE, so there may be one or two overlaps, but I’ve read WAY MORE after that and am prepared to like give more options here

Note: There should be English translations for all via novel updates if you do a search of the English name, but I don’t think most of them are completed.

If you wanna see my full reading and queue list (it’s all in Chinese tho, for my own records), it’s here.

I’m leaving out the usual MXTX and Priest ones, because they’re already good and we all know that and there’re many carrds and posts dedicated to them.

I am also a sucker for fainting but smart men, and not too overly angsty/complicated storylines, just putting it out there first, which is why I haven’t read a lot of some of the ones on my queue list.

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1. 一剑霜寒 | A Sword of Frost by 语笑阑珊

Summary: Jing Yan Ran is the Emperor’s brother and wields military power in the novel, and it starts with an object being stolen from the palace. Jing Yan Ran has to retrieve the item secretly, and so enlists the help of Feng Yu Sect’s Sect Master, Yun Yi Feng, who heads the martial arts world’s one and only information trading post. Yun Yi Feng does not deal in business that involves any royalty, but Jing Yan Ran offers him something he cannot refuse - the Blood Red Lingzhi, a rare and mystical herb that is rumoured to be able to treat his life-threatening condition.

Yun Yi Feng was used by his shifu when he was younger to test out all kinds of poisons and cures, and since then, his body flushes dangerously hot and cold frequently, with bouts of severe coughing fits in between. Throughout the first mission where he spends time with Jing Yan Ran searching for the stolen object, he allows Jing Yan Ran to take care of him, and they fall in LURVE pretty much like 10 chapters in.

Of course, they have to uncover a plot and conspiracy against their enemies who are plotting to dethrone the Emperor, and also reveal the secrets of Yun Yi Feng’s birth.

My Thoughts: AN ABSOLUTE FAVE AND GEM, I’d say this is my favourite danmei novel ever. This is both hilarious and tears-inducing, to be honest, because for most of the novel YYF knows he doesn’t have long to live and so in the beginning he knows of his own feelings for JYR and JYR also shows him that he loves him, but he is unable to officially reciprocate because he knows his body is like weakening day by day. Halfway through the fear that he’s literally about to die as they are JUST about to find the cure is real, and damn I cried so much at that. Some highlights:

YYF falls asleep very easily in baths and everywhere actually, and pretty much within the first 10 chapters he gets used to JYR carrying him around (even naked from the bath, he’s like oh well, okay cool) and taking care of him, and JYR ALWAYS makes sure he is warm and toasty under his cape

YYF LOVESSSS RICHES, PLAYING THE ZITHER AND COOKING - He’s good at gathering the first one, but he FUCKING SUCKS AS THE LAST TWO - It’s so funny because he’s so beautiful and handsome right, and when he sits down at the zither everyone is like OH DAMN WHAT A DREAM- and then he plays, and everyone’s fantasies is shattered, he’s ABYSMAL at it, and the same goes for cooking

JYR doesn’t actually have the Blood Red Lingzhi, and throughout the first arc, he feels SO DAMN GUILTY because YYF even carved out a pendant that looks like what he thinks the herb looks like, and like carries it with him everywhere LMAO

Available: Novel Online and Manhua on Bilibili

2. 高能二维码 | High Energy QR Code by 青色羽翼

Summary: CEO Xing Ye’s brother Xing Shuo has just passed away at the age of 24, and nothing will make him believe that Xing Shuo died of natural causes despite autopsies and experts telling him that he really died simply of a heart failure. Xing Ye, who has impeccable memory, suddenly recalls the last time he saw Xing Shuo. His brother called out to him just before Xing Ye left for a business trip, and looked as if he had something to say, but ended up just wishing him a safe trip.

At that moment, there was a QR code on Xing Shuo’s phone, and the phone screen was strangely turned out towards Xing Ye, and Xing Ye, with his incredibly high IQ and memory, realizes that Xing Shuo wanted him to see the QR code. Quickly, he reproduces the QR code by pen and then scans it, and finds himself in a game world.

There he meets a narcissistic but also cute mirror which can speak, and finds out later that his name is Lu Ming Ze. Xing Ye’s mission is to clear the game missions in each round that is set by the black and white cubic game system, a system that continuously tempts its players into giving in to committing sins such as killing someone else, stealing and other things. He soon realizes that if he cannot stay on a path clear of these sins, he will never be able to triumph over the game system and return Lu Ming Ze back to his body in the real world.

At the same time, he gains new teammates and friends for life, and also finds out what role his brother played in this game.

My Thoughts: MY GOD I LOVE THIS. I LITERALLY JUST FINISHED READING THIS YESTERDAY, and honestly it’s one of my faves. I don’t like game systems very often (I’ve read three others so far, and this, and KOD are the only ones I’ve liked) but this one is *chef’s kiss*. So LMZ was born like with a really handsome face, like SUPER HANDSOME, and that’s why he’s like a harmless narcissist that cannot bear to look at ugly things LMAO, but he’s not spoilt, he makes sure that Xing Ye stays true to himself, and help him keep his head clear.

THE ONLY THING ABOUT THIS FRICKIN NOVEL IS THAT LU MING ZE STAYS A MIRROR, LIKE DIFFERENT KINDS OF MIRRORS, in the first TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY CHAPTERS. I KID YOU NOT. I FRICKIN KID YOU NOT. I swear I was sooo touched starved at the end of the novel, because they couldn’t even kiss?!! Like Xing Ye kisses the mirror, and then uses his thumbs to like hi-five mini LMZ in the mirror back, they can’t even hug. Do you know how empty my arms felt when I read this book?!! And my arms have never been filled!!!!!!

I really like this one because each game world is set up in such a brilliant way, but it’s not so unnecessarily complex that you literally don’t know what the fuck is going on. Xing Ye’s intelligence as he outmanoeuvres every single one of his enemies and convinces his would-be loyal teammates to trust him is so satisfying, world after world, victory after victory.

Humour is also absolutely ON POINT. A lot of it is centred on Xing Ye getting caught in the real world kissing his handheld mirror (LMZ) by LMZ’s parents (who cannot see him in the mirror) and LMZ’s parents going like ???!!!!!!!!

Available: Novel Online | Physical Novel is coming out on 10 Dec (freebies are, you guessed it, a mirror)

3. 妻为上 | The Wife is First by 绿野千鹤

Summary: This is set in a historical setting where men can marry other men, but it’s usually reserved for sons who were not borne by the official main first wife of the patriarch of the family, i.e. a son born by a concubine in a family may be forced to marry a man to keep him from being able to become the next family’s patriarch for example. This is because any family’s next leader needs to be able to have children with a wife who married in as a zheng shi (lawful wife), and not a ce shi (second wife) or any other concubines/mistresses etc. Most of these men who marry other men have to take them as their zheng shi and lawful spouse in a sense, and the same goes for the royal family.

The story starts with third prince Jing Shao, who was forced to marry Mu Han Zhang, a Marquis’ second son, by the Empress and Emperor, thereby officially and effectively cutting him out of the race for the throne. He’s mocked by the public as everyone knows what this means, and for the next 10 years, he neglects Mu Han Zhang, blaming him for his predicament, and deliberately showers his three other concubines with affection in front of him, but 10 years later, when Jing Shao is accused of treason, everyone leaves him except for Mu Han Zhang. They are chased to the edge of the cliff by soldiers, and Mu Han Zhang dies in his arms having taken an arrow meant for him earlier, and Jing Shao jumps off the cliff with his dead body, and promises that if there’s a next life, he will do everything Han Zhang says, and love him.

He wakes up immediately on the night of his marriage with Han Zhang, and realizes that he’s been given a second chance to make everything right. Han Zhang is definitely afraid of him, humiliated and angry when he first wakes up after how rough Jing Shao was with him earlier on their wedding night, and he has no memories of their past life. Jing Shao then sets to SHOWER HAN ZHANG with affection, love and basically everything, because he realized that this is the only person who stayed by his side until the end, and then he falls in love with Han Zhang properly this time, and also deals with every single person who maligned and schemed against him in his previous life, with Han Zhang by his side.

My Thoughts: OKAY BEFORE YALL GO INTO THE ‘WIFE’ terminology discourse and everything, in this case they do use the term ‘wife’ literally, and it’s a position, that while men frequently fall into (there are a lot of male ‘wives’ in this story), is also used to cut off like sons from inheriting the family and the fortune, and even titles. Male ‘wives’ aren’t looked down upon in this setting, in fact, Han Zhang gets a lot of leeway as one, and in his case he was also able to rise up the ranks to be an actual official later on, but the sad thing comes from sons who are most of the time forced to marry a male ‘wife’ for whatever reason, and then they are neglected as the son goes and find concubines, women he actually wants to sleep with - this is sad af yall. I don’t know, on one hand, yay for equality in marriage in this setting, but on the other hand like, damn, must you use same-sex marriage like that argh.

ANYWAY THIS IS ONE OF MY FAVES TOO?!!! I mean, especially when Jing Shao literally just goes into doting mode 200% and Han Zhang is totally like wtf why is he so nice to me is he scheming or something? And then he realizes that Jing Shao is really, really gentle towards him despite his reputation as a cruel, dark military commander, and Jing Shao always smiles at him. In any situation, especially in the beginning, when Han Zhang thought Jing Shao would not stand with him, Jing Shao literally just protects him no matter what, gives him everything, and cries, I love it.

Especially because Han Zhang is the son of a concubine and he was bullied a lot in the Mu family, and the official Lady Mu married him off to Jing Shao in hopes that he would be unhappy for the rest of his life, and I suppose that came true in the first life, but in the second, Han Zhang gets all the love, respect and support he never got before in this family with Jing Shao and that makes me WEEP.

Available: Novel Online and Manhua on Kuaikan

4. 死亡万花筒 Kaleidoscope of Death by 西子绪

OOOH I intro-ed KOD here in my previous rec list. Still one of my faves and all-time re-reads, especially under the covers in the dark hehehe.

5. 你的距离 | Your Distance by 公子优

Summary: Ting Shuang is a student at a German university, and has this handsome professor Bai Chang Yi who he swears kind of hates him. He’s just broken up with his longtime boyfriend, and then goes on this dating app that matches a profile with him based on distance. The app can also show the matched profile’s distance from him once they enter the same area, and Ting Shuang starts chatting with this Chinese guy on the app, who he finds out later, is 36 years old, 187cm in height and wears glasses.

The guy is a little aloof and cool, very mature in his replies on the app, and somehow Bai Chang Yi finds out who he is later, as Ting Shuang starts complaining to him about his professor to Bai Chang Yi. Instead of getting angry and offended, BCY is pretty much amused and finds Ting Shuang cute. A few days later Ting Shuang finally realizes who it is he’s been texting, and after getting past the initial embarrassment and fear, they start dating for real, and they really fall in love!!!!!

My Thoughts: This is sweet and also hilarious af, if you need to like satisfy your sweet tooth, this is definitely one for you. It’s really funny because Bai Chang Yi runs in the same circles as Ting Shuang’s dad, who he’s estranged from because the dad doesn’t want to recognize a son who is gay, and then BCY convinces him later in the funniest of ways, and there’s a small subplot at the end in which Ting Shuang is pretty cool, and yep, short and sweet! BCY in the manhua is handsome af too guys ;-;

Available: Novel Online, Audio Drama on Maoer FM and Manhua on Bilibili,

6. 神木挠不尽 The White Cat’s Divine Scratching Post by 绿野千鹤

Summary: Mo Tian Liao, a weapons forger and master who ruled the Demon Tribe, was hunted down and killed by other righteous sects in the region when he managed to forge an incredibly destructive weapon that could end the world. Before he died, he placed the only thing he loved, a white cat, into a hole in the tree behind him to protect it. The only thing he was grateful for was that he did not create a blood pact with the cat, Xiao Mao, because if he had done so, when he died, Xiao Mao would have died along with him as well.

Right before he dies, unbeknownst to him, Xiao Mao who is no simple demonic cat, wraps part of his consciousness around Mo Tian Liao, and MTL’s spirit ends up floating about for 300 years, until he finds a suitable time to return with a body made out of a special tree and its wood. The first thing he does, of course, is to find his white cat, but he’s poor, and the body he has isn’t powerful, so he joins Wo Yun Sect, the only sect that did not hunt him down that day hundreds of years ago.

There, he is chosen by Qing Tong shizun to be his direct disciple, much to the astonishment of other shizuns in the sect, and Qing Tong’s shixiongs. MTL has never seen a person as beautiful and gorgeous as his shizun, and if only he could find that cat (who’s actually his shizun, who recognizes him and protects him, even if MTL doesn’t actually need much protection).

My Thoughts: This was hilarious as well, and so romantic?!!! Qing Tong/Xiao Mao waited for MTL to come back, and the moment he came back, Qing Tong was there ready to grab him, and then before he went to sleep that night, Qing Tong thought to himself, “I’ve gotten my person back, I can sleep well now” and AHHHHH at this point they weren’t even like a couple yet? MTL ‘kidnapped’ Qing Tong when he was a young demon cat by accident because he likes pretty things (like his shizun lmao) and Qing Tong is attached to him because MTL never forced a blood pact on him, and gave him everything he wanted as a younger cat before MTL died. Gosh, a mirror in #2 and then a cat now with this one. XD

Available: Novel Online

7. 破云 | Breaking the Clouds by 淮上

Summary: Three years ago, Captain Jiang Ting and his team of the Narcotics division perished in an explosion due to a wrong call of his, and he returns three years later under a new identity ready to deal with the people who set him and his team up. He’s caught in what seems to be a simple murder case almost immediately and meets Yan Xie, who’s Vice Captain and in charge of this case. Yan Xie realizes who Jiang Ting is shortly after, and begins to unravel the huge mystery surrounding the events of three years ago, and falls in love with Jiang Ting along the way as well.

My Thoughts: Okay out of the FOUR crime/detective/thriller danmei novels I’ve read, the poyun and tunhai (below) series is the one that MIRRORS actual narcotics division and undercovers the best. It has the complexity and depth of the drugs/narcotics world, and both this one and its sequel focuses a lot on the position of an undercover and mole. I liked this one a lot because there are SOOOO many twists especially in the last arc, like you honestly won’t see any of them coming until it hits you? And Yan Xie is such a confident, rich-ass narcissist, and he keeps asking Jiang Ting if he can “just touch” him ONCE lmao, he’s thick-skinned af, but that’s why he and Jiang Ting are so compatible ;-;.

Available: Novel Online, Novel Print, Audio Drama and Manhua on Bilibili

8. 吞海 | Swallowing the Sea by 淮上

Summary: Sequel to Po Yun. Yu Wu is a young-looking new detective under Captain Bu Chong Hua’s narcotics team. Bu Chong Hua is Yan Xie’s cousin by actual relation, but brother in relationship because BCH’s parents died early and Yan Xie’s parents have been taking care of him mostly. He cannot stand Yu Wu, who seems to want to coast through at work and keep to a 9-5 work schedule.

It’s only after an altercation and Yu Wu dumping his nonchalant facade to snarl at BCH that he realizes that YW is actually more interesting and mysterious than he thought, and he begins to try to get close to him, understand him. It turns out that Yu Wu is a famous undercover who nearly died a year ago during an operation, and due to various reasons, he was assigned to BCH’s team by higher ups so he can peacefully live the rest of his life out there. However, his past catches up with him quickly, and his enemies turning up forces him to rely on BCH.

With BCH, Yu Wu’s resentment of having to be an undercover in the past and being so easily discarded by his team’s leaders, and of him being forced to be in the shadows while others can announce their achievements to the world, is slowly erased, because BCH sees him, knows him, and understands him more than anyone else.

My Thoughts: I actually liked this one better than the first one - Yu Wu is such a pouty, angry little thing?! And for good reason (there’s a bit of cannibalism in the book, not by choice when he was younger and in a poor village in Cambodia, where some militants forced survivors in the village to eat the meat of boiled corpses of other villagers, so YW is a vegetarian, like if he eats meat he gets really sick) and the twists here are even more amazing?! BCH really, really, devotes himself to YW the moment he realizes how much he likes him, doing a 180 degree turn. Instead of Yan Xie’s flamboyance, BCH is much steadier, grouchy, like an old uncle, but also looks at things even more clearly than Yan Xie does sometimes. Yu Wu is understandably bitter about what he had to go through, and BCH is the ONLY person who can calm him down, whom he listens to, which I LOVE. Some highlights:

Yu Wu grew up in a poor village and thus loves money, and he fights in underground betting rings to earn more money - The stash of hidden money he collects I think is half for his escape money, but if he happens to never need it, his dream is to donate the money to his village so they can open up a school there - ANYWAY because Yan Xie’s parents, and technically BCH’s ‘parents’ are soooooo rich right, Yan Xie’s mom shows her approval to her son-in-laws (Jiang Ting first, then Yu Wu), by giving them winter pants. It’s kind of like inside warmers, and usually meant for older ladies to wear LOLOL so Yu Wu was like staring at the pants when he finally got them and looked soooo reluctant until Jiang Ting told him it costs $6,000 AND HE WAS LIKE :333333 okie

He acts a lot like a kid?!! He likes eating like some snack but it’s really unhealthy for him, and BCH the mother hen keeps catching him in weird places like the toilet, where he’s hiding from BCH so he can eat his fave snack?! And the whole police station knows not to give YW what he wants in terms of snacks and smokes because once BCH finds out, he makes life very difficult for them HAHAHAHA

9. 穿成反派如何活命 | How to Survive as A Villain by 伊依以翼

Summary: Rich and handsome CEO Xiao Yu An finds out he has a terminal illness (cancer), and dies while he’s reading this online novel, where a king mistreats the crown prince from a neighbouring state which sent him over as hostage after losing a war, and ends up being killed by the crown prince years later (SVSSS much?!). He wakes up AS THE KING, and afraid of dying, he immediately goes about befriending the prince, Yan He Qing. Yan He Qing falls in love with Xiao Yu An while being his friend/hostage/bodyguard, and Xiao Yu An tries to avoid all the deaths he read in the book, while making sure Yan He Qing manages to find his three/four wives, including Xiao Yu An’s sister.

Of course, because Xiao Yu An showed him warmth and kindness, Yan He Qing ends up falling for him instead, and Xiao Yu An is an absolute oblivious idiot because he REALLY doesn’t realize until much later. Yan He Qing ends up declaring war on Xiao Yu An’s kingdom because he is duty bound to do so, but doesn’t hurt Xiao Yu An, wanting to keep him by his side, but YHQ’s scheming uncle drives a wedge between them, and XYA leaves, breaking YHQ’s heart.

They meet again a few years later, where XYA is training to be a physician in a small village and chances upon a severely injured YHQ. There, he realizes that it was all a misunderstanding, and that YHQ actually LIKES, LIKES him, but before they can enjoy this short period of happiness, disaster strikes again.

My Thoughts: THIS WAS really enjoyable, and with the manhua visuals, it is *chef’s kiss*. I think this transmigration version actually delved into the part where XYA is unable to change everything, and if he saves one person, someone else is destined to die, and that moral dilemma devastates him a lot. In this novel he actually transmigrates TWICE, once into the king’s body, and the second time into a neighbouring state’s prince/king’s body, who looks exactly like his modern self after. YHQ is real sweet to him istg, and I like that the epilogues are SUPER EXTENSIVE, including an arc where YHQ and XYA transmigrate back to the real world and everyone who died is alive and close to them, and gets their happy ending ;-;

Available: Novel Online and Manhua on Bilibili

#danmei rec list #stebeee recs #a sword of frost #your distance #swallowing the sea #breaking the clouds #kaleidoscope of death #High Energy QR Code #How to Survive as A Villain #The White Cat’s Divine Scratching Post

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kanonsarchivedblog · 3 years

Text

Redemption

Author's Note: What if Mayuri Kurotsuchi died during the Thousand Year Blood War? Who would take over the role of Captain of the Twelfth Division? This is an answer to that in the form a redemption for Urahara Kisuke and the Captaincy that had been wrongly stolen from him.

Word Count: 4,767

Characters: Urahara Kisuke, Hirako Shinji, Kyouraku Shunsui, Shihouin Yoruichi, Otoribashi Roujuurou, Kurotsuchi Mayuri, Akon, Kurotsuchi Nemu

Ship(s): Hirako Shinji/Urahara Kisuke

Setting: Post-Thousand Year Blood War

Warnings: Major Character Death

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You can’t have peace without a war, that’s how the saying goes. It spoke true; the Seireitei, while in shambles, was calm. Peaceful. The sound of hammering in the distance, of laughter and voices calling out to one another. Rebuilding, slowly but surely- with the aid of Shinigami and civilians alike. And the occasional Arrancar. The dead were still being retrieved from the various fields on which battles took place upon. Last time the toll had been released, they were well into the hundreds. A devastating blow to them all- on both sides.

It was difficult; so many young Shinigami had been killed, but so had many young Quincy. Too many, truthfully. Some of their own Captains had been casualties of the war: Head Captain Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto had been one of the first to be slaughtered before their very eyes. Aside from him, the entire first division had been killed- all one hundred and six members, in the very beginning of the war. Following this had been Fourth Division Captain, Retsu Unohana- all for the sake of getting Zaraki Kenpachi to learn the true name of his sword and release his bankai, something that had nearly killed him. Their beloved Thirteenth Division Captain, Jushiro Ukitake had been killed somehow. Very few knew the truth of the matter-

That he had become the new Soul King. That, since birth, he’d been doomed to take over when the time came. A ticking time bomb, of sorts. But to the rest of Soul Society, he’d been another casualty of war.

Many others had nearly died; Captain of the Third Division, Ōtoribashi Rōjūrō, Captain of the Ninth Division, Muguruma Kensei, and both the Captain and Lieutenant of the Tenth Division, Tōshirō Hitsugaya and Rangiku Matsumoto, had all become members of the living dead due to the the Sternritter Giselle Gewelle’s ability. Captain of the Sixth Division, Byakuya Kuchiki, had nearly been slaughtered by the Sternritter Äs Nödt. For all intents and purposes, the Lieutenant of the Third Division was dead, and yet he still walked: Izuru Kira, who lost not just an arm, but a lung and portions of other organs after having a hole shot through his torso. Their new Captain Commander, Kyōraku Shunsui, had lost his left eye and part of his left ear, as well as having a hole shot through his sternum, nearly killing him.

Many others had been injured just as grievously. But that was what war did. It took and it took and it took until there wasn’t anything left to take. War was greedy.

One other had been taken from their ranks. Mayuri Kurotsuchi, the Captain of the Twelfth Division, had been killed during the battle. Details were still coming in, but from what was known, he’d sacrificed himself in the final moments to save his greatest creation, Nemu Kurotsuchi, his artificially created daughter. It seems that even the coldest and most detached of people could, in the end, redeem themselves and save those who they held closest to their hearts. It was certainly interesting to hear.

After all, when Urahara Kisuke had been Captain of the Twelfth, Mayuri had been a right bastard to deal with. He could still remember that day he pulled him out of the Maggot’s Nest, and the following years. How they had worked well together, even if the bickering was nearly constant, as well outright insubordination.

Many would grieve in silence for those that had been lost. The Fourth Division was busy; Isane Kotetsu was now the defacto Captain. She was young, but strong, resilient. She would survive.

Somewhere within the Division sat Rose and Kensei, sharing a room. Izuru Kira had his own room- something that was necessary, given the extent of his injuries. Kuchiki Byakuya was being treated at the Kuchiki Mansion; Kyōraku Shunsui, at the Kyōraku Mansion. Somewhere below them, Aizen sat, chained back up.

Kisuke sat in the bed, studying the way dust danced within the sun’s rays that spilled through his window. He wasn’t injured, not really; Benihime had made sure that her master would be pieced back together completely. All that was left of her work were the thin, surgical stitches that stretched down his face, across his knuckles, over his joints. They didn’t hurt. At least, he didn’t think they did. If there was pain, he was numb to it.

He supposed he owed his thanks to Grimmjow for saving him. He’d thank him later. Right now, the Pantera was hunting for a certain Shark that sat within one of the many, many cells beneath Soul Society. He was accompanied by a Ram and a Wolf.

He could thank Mayuri for saving the Wolf. Coyote Starrk had been a savior. A sharp shooter and a hidden weapon in Hueco Mundo.

There was also Kurosaki Ichigo. That kid deserved all of their thanks, and more. Without him, they’d all be dead. He couldn’t help but wonder where he was, right now. Back home in Karakura Town? Or here, lingering with those he’d fought beside?

Slate hues closed, listening to the hammering and calling. To the sound of laughter and weeping. Of birdsong and creeping silence. He was tired. More so than he’d ever been in his life.

But now was not the time to rest, not with the figure lingering outside of his door. Five minutes, Shinji had been standing there, reaching for the door and dropping his hand, only to reach again. A sigh escaped Kisuke as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Come in, already!” He called, amusement shining in his words.

The door opened, and the blonde made his appearance at last. “Didn’t wanna disturb yer beauty rest, your highness,” he teased, lips quirking up in a crooked smile.

Kisuke could remember the first time he’d seen that smile. “I think I’ve had enough beauty rest to last a lifetime,” as if to prove a point, he stretched his arms up over his head, listening as various bones popped and creaked, as if singing a song of rest. “You aren’t here to give me the latest gossip, are you, Hirako-san?”

A shake of the head. “I wish I were,” Shinji sighed, closing the door behind himself as if that would give them any privacy. It wouldn’t, but it was certainly the thought that counted. “We were called in for an emergency meeting. Y’know how… Bad everything is right now.”

“You’re down three captains, and the new Captain Commander is on mandatory bed rest.” Kisuke answered with a shake of the head. “You’re fucked.”

“And now in the fun way.” Arms crossing over his chest, Shinji grimaced. He was still in pain, too, it seemed.

Not surprising; he’d taken quite the beating as well, from what he’d heard. “I have a question to ask you.”

No, the Soul Society will not get a discount on any products they purchase at the Urahara Shoten.” A joke, though it seemed to fall flat. “... What is it?”

“You know Kurotsuchi-taichou was killed.”

“Yes.”

“They’re without a Captain now.”

Slate hues widened before narrowing, understanding quickly settling in. This was the one thing he had never been prepared for. “Nemu could act as defacto Captain.”

“She can’t. She’s a child again.”

“Of course she is.” Damn Mayrui. “Akon?”

“Doesn’t have a Bankai. Or a Shikai. At least, not one that's on record.”

“Of course he doesn’t. Of course Mayuri would keep all of his underlings under a careful watch and not allow them to progress. Of course he would. He never did think about anyone but himself.” A bitter laugh slipped free, one full of anger and mourning. A scarred hand reached up to rub at pale blonde hair. “What are you asking, Shinji?”

“You know what I’m asking, Kisuke.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

A pause. Shinji sucked on his teeth, lips pressing taunt. “The Captain Commander wants to know if you’ll step in and take over the position of Captain of the Twelfth Division once more.”

A bark of laughter escaped Kisuke as he tossed his head back, baring his throat and chest. He knew this was coming. But to hear it spoken aloud? It made everything suddenly so real. “Central Forty-Six is going to disagree.”

“It’ll be overridden. We’re down three captains and Soul King knows how many Shinigami.” Shinji’s lip curled into a scowl as he shook his head. “We’re fucked.”

“We’re fucked.” Kisuke agreed softly, gaze slipping from Shinji to study the floorboards. “Whose idea was it?”

“It was agreed on immediately that you were the only one who could take over the Twelfth and not accidentally kill everyone.” The humor in Shinji’s tone brought a smile to both of their faces.

“You’re not wrong there.” A pause. “... I have some conditions, then.”

Shinji waved his hands. “Save it for the official meeting. Shun’s calling it in three days time. We’re all to attend, no matter what it takes to get there.” He pushed away from the wall and turned. “I’d love t’stay and all, but I gotta make sure my Division isn’t all dead.”

“You make a good Captain, Shinji.” Kisuke murmured, watching as his back tensed, as his head raised. “You always have.”

“... Get some rest, you ogre.”

The door shut, and he was alone with his thoughts once more.

━━━━━━━

Three Days Later

━━━━━━━

The meeting did not take place within the Captain Commander’s hall. The First Division was still being cleaned of bodies and blood. Instead, it took place within the halls of the Kyōraku Mansion. The grounds were lovely, sprawling, teeming with deer and birds and streams. It was easy to see the wealth and prestige that came with the name.

But it was nothing compared to the Shihōin estate that Kisuke had grown up on.

Speaking of, Yoruichi had joined him. He’d requested she be allowed to attend, and lo and behold, his request had been approved. The past three days, he’d been talking with her and Tessai, deciding on their plan of action.

Now, it would come to fruition.

“I know this isn’t the First Division, but it will have to make do for the time being.” Shunsui spoke, breaking the idle conversation that had been occurring and drawing all attention to him. He wore the Captain Commander’s coat, but beneath was a simple violet yukata- loose fitting to accommodate the bandages that wound around his torso. His head was still bandaged, as well.

No one looked to be in good health. Across from him sat Rose and Kensei, both of who looked uncomfortable. Rose was bandaged around his middle, as well. Kensei’s color was still returning to normal. Behind them stood, or in Kira’s case, sat. Kira didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. He didn’t seem to be paying attention. Hisagi looked ready to pass out at any given moment.

No one else was any better, aside from perhaps Isane Kotetsu. Akon stood behind the empty chair where Mayuri should

have been sitting. Rukia Kuchiki stood behind the empty chair that should have held Ukitake.

“This meeting, while formal, is occurring off the books. We are in a grievous state, and while peace may be here, there is always the chance that it could break at any moment. That is why we are here.” He cleared his throat, brows furrowing. “We are rebuilding, and we have a shaky alliance with both the Quincy and the Arrancar- for now. I do not believe that we are under an immediate threat. However, there are certain items that must be addressed.

“The first of which is the passing of four of our Captains. There will be funerals held for each of them within the coming weeks. They will be open to the public. They will be grand, as is deserving of each.” The finality in Shunsui’s voice left no room for argument. “Captains Yamomoto, Unohana, Kurotsuchi, and Ukitake will be remembered for the rest of time for laying down their lives to save Soul Society, as well as the… Hundreds of others who were lost in battle.”

Hundreds. The word is heavy within the room. Everyone had lost someone in some form, whether it be family, friend, or lover.

“Secondly, it is time to right the errors of our past. This is the reason this meeting is occurring off the books. I plan to contest the banning of Urahara Kisuke and Shihōin Yoruichi personally before Central Forty-Six.” Murmurs drifted through the room. It was one thing to bring up the idea, but another to say that it will be happening. “Which is why they were both invited to attend this meeting.”

Gazes turned, landing on the pair. “Ohayo,” Kisuke hummed, leaning his weight upon Benihime, who was in her sealed form. “I have questions about that.”

“Of course you do,” Sui-Feng muttered, though she remained silent otherwise.

He pointedly ignored the angry little bee. “I was made aware that you all agreed that I should take over my former position that had been ripped from me one hundred and… What was it, twelve? Thirteen, now? Years ago. A title that I had rightly earned before I was condemned for a crime that I did not commit, which we all are aware of now, yes?” A quickly, cursory glance around the room. “I know a few of you here were too young to remember what happened. But let me refresh your memory, shall I? Aizen was working on a way to create Hollows out of Shinigami and chose three of your captains and one of the lieutenants here, now, to test that on, as well as Hiyori Sarugaki, my former Lieutenant, Hachigen Ushoda, formerly of the Fourth Division, and Love Aikawa, former Captain of the Seventh Division.” The words cut like a hot knife through ice, stinging and causing a few to look down or away.

“But some of you were not too young. Some of you remember when it happened, and you did nothing to intervene. So for the last one hundred and thirteen years, I have been living in the World of the Living, aiding the Vizards. Miss Shihōin had been exiled from her own family, even if they did not want to do so. They had no choice. So!” Kisuke clapped his hands together, watching as Isane jumped. Oops. “My condition is that not only we be pardoned of this crime that we did not commit, but that Miss Yoruichi Shihōin also be allowed back within Soul Society. My shop will remain within the World of the Living in Karakura Town. Tessai Tsukabishi, the former Captain of the Kido Corps, who was also wrongly convicted, will also be pardoned. He will remain and run the shop, looking over it and the two Modified Souls whom I created and love as if they were my own children, Ururu and Jinta.

“Those are the conditions upon which I will accept the Captaincy of the Twelfth Division once more. If they are not met, you’ll just have to find someone else who is capable enough to run the Division and understand how Mayuri Kurotsuchi’s mind worked. No offense to Akon or anyone with the Twelfth currently, but I don’t think any of them could actually handle that. After all,” his voice quiets, head dipping, a shadow falling over his eyes. “I was the one who brought Mayuri out of the Maggot’s Nest. Should any of you

forget, I was also the Commander of the Detention Corps, as well as a member of the Onmitsukidō.” Chin raising, slate gaze swept across the room, taking in the silence that had fallen. “I’m not asking for a compensation fund. I’m not asking for a new Division. I’m not asking for a golden parade through the Rukongai. I want an apology. And I want for Central Forty-Six to admit their mistake.”

Silence met him. It was as if no one had expected for Urahara Kisuke to speak out, to give demands. As if he, too, hadn’t been wronged by the events of the past. As if he, too, did not deserve an apology. As if he, too, were not angry and bitter over the mistakes of the past.

“Lest you all forget that without me, you would not have had the Twelfth as it is today. There would be no S.R.D.I.. Mayuri would have died in his cell. And you all would be dead, now, because Kurosaki Ichigo wouldn’t have been born without Isshin Kurosaki, someone who I helped personally. And you would be down four Captains and one lieutenant.” Jaw set, he met Shunsui’s gaze with his own. “These are the requirements. And I will not settle for any less, Captain Commander.”

Shunsui shifted in his seat, a peculiar little smile curling at the corners of his lips. One that read ‘I anticipated this’, or perhaps ‘All is going according to plan’. “Of course, Urahara-san. It will be done.”

“Will it?” Kisuke countered, head titling, voice low. “Just what do you have on the Central Forty-Six that would turn their vote so quickly, Shunsui-san?”

A chill crept into the air as the Captains and Lieutenants sat straighter, stood straighter, cast their gazes down. No one dared speak, no one dared to break the silence that had gripped their throats and held them captive.

“That,” Shunsui began, rising to his feet slowly. “Is for me to know, and for you to never find out. That is all that needed to be said. This meeting is dismissed.” His face was pale; it was beyond time for him to retire. Another session of healing, no doubt.

Kisuke made his way out, Yoruichi at his side. “That was ballsy,” she murmured, gaze trained ahead. “But good.”

“I figured a history lesson was overdue.” Kisuke replied with a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “Go, I’m sure no one will mind if you-”

She was already gone.

“-visit your family.” Sighing, he began the slow walk back towards the Gotei Thirteen, gaze downcast. He could hear murmurings from behind him- surprise, shock, anxiety. A presence settled in at his side, shoulder gently bumping against his arm.

“Think it’ll happen?” Shinji asked after a good few minutes of walking in silence.

“He managed to convince them to let Aizen out.” He hummed, head rising to study the horizon. “I don’t know what he has up his sleeves, but… I believe there is a chance I’ll be back to torment you, Hirako-taicho.”

The grin Shinji sent him was brighter than the sun. He couldn’t help but smile, as well.

━━━━━━━

One month later.

━━━━━━━

“I stand before you today to contest a punishment that was given over a century ago,” Shunsui began, gazing up at the blank blocks before him. Behind them sat the members of the Central Forty-Six. “I am aware that I was here merely two months prior. A lot can happen in two months.”

“Like losing hundreds of Shinigami,” one voice spoke up.

“That is the casualty of war, something that you all seem to forget exists outside of your protected lives.” Silence met Shunsui. “We lost four captains. And while there are many who could step up the plate, one of those is impossible to replace.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“That Urahara Kisuke be allowed back into the Soul Society and be allowed to take his mantle of Captain up once again.” Shunsui fell quiet as yells met him. Anger, alarm, it all spilled out.

“URAHARA KISUKE? DESERTER.”

“LIAR, A DANGER TO SOUL SOCIETY.”

“HE’S BEEN IN THE WORLD OF THE LIVING FOR TOO LONG.”

He raised his hands, listening as the voices died down. “I understand your anger. However, merely a few years ago, the Vizards were pardoned. Why should Kisuke not be pardoned, as well as Yoruichi Shihōin and Tessai

Tsukabishi.”

“THEY’RE TRAITORS TO THE SOUL SOCIETY-”

“THEY ABANDONED US YEARS AGO-”

“THEY SHOULD BE KILLED-”

Shunsui raised his hands once more, his brow furrowed. “Maa, maa- please, allow me to speak.” Agitated silence met him as he cleared his throat. “I’m not Yamomoto. I haven’t been here since the beginning. I was just a child when this place was really coming together. But because of that, I have been able to witness the way everything has changed and grown. How we’ve become stronger, how more and more Shinigami join our ranks each year. I was a Captain by the time Urahara Kisuke joined our ranks, stepping out from the shadow of the Onmitsukidō. I was able to watch as he built the Twelfth up from the bottom, and watched as he created the Shinigami Research and Development Institute. Without him, we wouldn’t have the Gigais that allow us to investigate further into the World of the Living, the Tenshintai. What Mayuri had to work with wouldn’t have existed without Kisuke. We wouldn’t have even had a captain to fill his place originally without Kisuke; he was the one who brought Mayuri out of the Maggot’s Nest.

“At the end of the day, you have to sit back and consider more than what those of the past did. At the time, there was no true solid proof that Urahara Kisuke, Yoruichi Shihōin and Tessai Tsukabishi were behind the hollowfication project that was, in actuality, spearheaded by Aizen. Their only crime had been being at the scene, trying to help their friends. When you consider this, along with how they have continued to aid us despite being stranded in the World of the Living for so long… Don’t we owe them this?” Murmurs began to echo through the tall chamber. Forty-six voices all talking, debating. Shunsui stood, hands folded politely before him as he waited.

He was right, and he knew it. After all, it had been his idea in the first place. Without Kisuke’s aid, they wouldn’t have ever had Kurosaki Ichigo to help them. Aizen would never have been stopped. Yhawch would still be alive, and they would all be dead or acting as prisoners. There wasn’t any real debate to be had other than stubborn old men wanting to keep history as it is.

“So, I ask once more: I wish for Urahara Kisuke to be allowed back into the Soul Society and be allowed to take his mantle of Captain of the Twelfth Division and Captain of the S.R.D.I. up once again as well as pardoning Urahara Kisuke, Yoruichi Shihōin and Tessai Tsukabishi of their wrongly accused crimes.”

Silence settled across the chamber. A pleased smile curled Shunsui’s lips as he relaxed.

━━━━━━━

Two weeks later.

━━━━━━━

The First Division was peaceful, calm, filled with idle chatter as the Captains and their Lieutenants gathered within the hall of the Captain Commander. There was no surprise written upon their features; they knew what this meeting was about. Even so, they stood, chatting amongst one another, until Shunsui made his way into the hall to settle in at the head of the hall. He used a heavy, cherry wood cane to aid him; it would not be a permanent fixture. Each day he grew stronger, healing from his injuries.

“Well, then,” he murmured, rolling his shoulders before raising the voice. “Would the new Captain of the Twelfth Division enter?”

The great doors opened, and standing within the entryway was none other than Urahara Kisuke, green and white striped hat nowhere to be seen. He no longer resembled the young, awkward Captain he had been one hundred and thirteen years ago. Now, he stood tall, still, gaze trained forward. He made his way in slowly, geta clad feet making soft ‘clacks’ with every step. Behind him, surprisingly, walked a black feline, trotting to keep up. He turned to the left, and stepped into the place where he’d once stood, where Mayuri had once stood.

“Very well. Now, since we are all here, our first manner of business…”

The meeting did not last long; many were still in frail condition, such as the Third Division. The walk to the Twelfth was quiet, calm. Yoruichi had slipped away, returning to her family for the first time in far too

long. She wouldn’t be taking up the mantle of Head of the Shihōin family; that title had passed to her younger brother. Instead, she’d become an aid to him, and split her time between the Soul Society and the World of the Living. Tessai didn’t want to return; he had no desire to come back. He’d handle the shop and keep an eye on Karakura, along with Jinta and Ururu.

Kisuke was pulled from his thoughts at the sound of a throat clearing. Head snapping up, slate gaze hues widening at the sight of his new lieutenant. “The last time I saw you, you were extremely little and didn’t have a nicotine addiction!” Kisuke greeted with a grin as Akon let out a bark of laughter.

“It’s good to see you again, too, Captain,” Akon replied, shaking his head as he fell into step beside Kisuke. “A lot’s changed.”

“I’d be more alarmed if nothing had changed. It has been over a century, after all!” His head tilts back, studying the sky. “It feels strange to be here again.”

“It does.” The sound of a little voice calling had both men pausing, glancing behind them, only to watch as a little black haired girl came bouncing over, nearly stumbling over her sandals. Nemu. Akon knelt down, arms open, allowing the girl to climb up into his arms. “Nemu, meet Urahara Kisuke. He’s taking over as Captain.”

“I remember him. Where’s your hat?” She asked, big dark eyes gazing up at Kisuke.

“Decided that it wouldn’t be appropriate to wear at a meeting,” he winked, and with a wave of his hand, it was as if the hat appeared out of thin air. Nemu’s eyes widened in surprise, mouth dropping open into a little ‘o’. “But I never wander too far without it.” Gaze turning, he took in the sight of the Division, how much it had changed, how large it had become. “Well…”

“Wherever you want to begin, I’ll guide you to it.”

A grimace. “Notes? Or did he burn them all again?”

“Surprisingly, he didn’t.” A shrug as Akon began to walk once more, carrying Nemu as if she were his own. Members of the Twelfth stopped where they stood and bowed low, murmurs of welcome echoing through the air. “I don’t think he had the foresight to do that.”

“Good,” Kisuke nodded, clapping his hands together. “Then let's get to work.”

“Aye-aye, Captain.”

━━━━━━━

That Night

━━━━━━━

The night air was cool here compared to the warm autumn air of Karakura Town. Geta clopped along the top of the wall idly with no true direction. That is, until the sound of a snicker drew the attention of the shoe’s owner. Head tilting, Kisuke glanced behind himself to find Hirako Shinji standing behind him.

“Can’t sleep?”

“Haunted by the past.” Kisuke replied, settling down on the wall. Was he in Shinji’s Division? He hadn’t realized he’d walked that far. “You?”

“Insomnia’s a bitch.” Shinji settled down on the wall, kicking his heels against the sturdy structure idly. “... It feels good to have you back.”

“Does it?” He mused, stepping closer before settling down, shoulder bumping Shinji’s before leaning against the other. “Never thought I’d hear you say that.”

“Fuck off,” Shinji teased, leaning his weight back against Kisuke’s shoulder. Together they sat, silence falling across them like a light dew in the early morning hours. Without speaking, Shinji reached over, taking hold of Kisuke’s hand. Calloused fingers drifted over stitched scars. “She did a number on you.”

“Benihime is a benevolent woman. I respect that,” Kisuke replied softly, watching Shinji’s fingers. “What about you? How’s your head?”

“I’ve had worse.”

“Touche.”

A chuckle slipped free from both men. Kisuke sighed, leaning over to rest his head atop Shinji’s own. “This is what you missed?”

“This and more.”

“It doesn’t feel right without Hiyori yelling at us. Or Love laughing. Or Hachi worrying…” Brows furrowing, he sighed. “But they like it in the World of the Living.”

curled Shinji’s lips as he pulled Kisuke’s hand up to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss to his knuckles. “Some of it will be, Captain.”

#m's scribbles #bleach fanfiction #kisuke urahara #shinji hirako #shinji/kisuke #yoruichi shihouin #shunsui kyoraku #akon #rip mayuri but kisuke's different

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catboibanshee · 3 years

Text

I was an aspiring reporter looking at baby names in the recent census for unusual names after celebrities or fictional characters etc. Looking for trends. I came across a name that had me like, shaking. I couldn't believe it. And once I found it I couldn't get it out of my head. Anyway I wrote my piece and submitted it but couldn't add the one I saw because it was just too much. So weeeeks later I was in the post office and behind me were a few people in line and the guy behind the counter saw the lady behind me and recognized her and started heaving her a poster he's printed up from up over the glass shield thing that was on the counter and it was a little unwieldy so they sorta bumped my head with it and they both sorta jostled to recover it and apologized. And the poster started to unfurl and it was. A "welcome to the world" baby name poster with THE BABY NAME and the woman who was behind me, apparently the mom photographed in a proactive pose in like goofy orange and white leotard. And of course the baby name in big fluffy letters under . Oh my God. I couldn't believe it. I acted so fast while they were talking and collecting up the unfurled poster and trying to roll it up I took a quick picture of it with my phone to prove I wasn't crazy and that this really happened.

And I chatted with her for a second like saying Wow that was a statement piece and she chuckled and said yeah and she couldn't wait to announce it at her party. She was funny and pretty chill Anyway after a short chat she left and I was DYING to tell my friends and group chats and so to make it fast I just posted the pic on my twitter without any explanation just some question marks and since like, nobody except my group chat members really followed me, I didn't think anything really about posting it. and was just gonna share the link and story about it in my chats. Well somehoww like a few random people saw it?? and within a few hours it started to go viral. It got 3m views within an hour like by the time I checked my phone next and somebody had found out my name AND the article on baby name trends I'd written and like were saying it was real and the baby name was revealed and pulled the census record (apparently that's updated in near real time? Like at every birth lmao pretty sure that's not how that works but anyway) and I was COMPLETELY mortified bc a) I didn't mean it to be seen by anybody except my friends b) I'm not supposed to call out individual people's info where people could find them and c) worst of all the lady would know it was me and that I'd stolen/ruined her announcement for her. And was somehow also getting all the internet fame instead of her. Anyway I was freaking out and like trying to make it to the party she was having bc I knew where it was gonna be at since she'd mentioned it, and once I got there I could apologize to her. BUT then I saw her post a comment that she'd seen it and "she was fuming" and I was already sort of on my way there but then i started to have a panic attack on the sidewalk from all the stress and not knowing what to do and then i woke up with a cold sweat and it took me like a minute to figure out that it wasn't real. Anyway the kids name was Garfieldpussy

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mandos-lightningbeforethunder · 3 years

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Start Again - Chapter Four (Din Djarin x Reader)

SUMMARY: Arriving on Nevarro, you and the Mandalorian deal with the consequences of the Empire and hope to find out information from New Republic files.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: panic attacks and discussion of nightmares and child loss

Author’s Note: This chapter is about 2.4k words, just a bit shorter than the previous chapter. Feel free to reblog and like :)

CHAPTER FOUR - THE TRUTH

After sharing your latest nightmare, the rest of the trip is quiet. It’s a comfortable silence as you click through the datapad, starting a batch of notes for your dreams. You log the longest nightmare you can remember. You can still feel the hum of the lightsaber before the memory cuts off. Anything past the ignition of the saber and it’s blank. You were frustrated but at the same time, it was the most progress you had made.

“Exiting jump,” the Mandalorian says, pulling a lever down on the control column. You click off the datapad as the ship lurches into the home system of Nevarro. A brief talk with the Nevarro tower and the Idrionna breaches the planet’s atmosphere.

Idrionna touches down on the surface, the engines humming as they power down. You follow Mando’s lead as he steps down to the cargo hold, pulling open a door to grab a few blasters.

“I thought you said this planet was friendly,” you say. He chuckles, strapping the blasters in his holsters.

“It is. My friend Cara is the Marshal here, but you can never be too careful.” He replies, pressing the hatch release.

Cara, you presume, is already there waiting for you as the hatch fully opens and locks in place. The glint of her Marshal badge catches your eye as you and Mando walk towards her. Her serious face remains grim even as you approach.

“Surprised you’d come here, Mando,” she greets, “I’m sure Kryze would look here first for you.”

“I’m aware of the dangers. I need your help with something,” he says. The silence that follows is deafening.

Her eyes fall on you, raking over you as she takes in what she can see physically. It’s almost uncomfortable. In turn, you look over her, examining the tattoo on her arm and the one just under her eye. A survivor of Alderaan.

“She like the kid?” She finally asks, her eyes returning to Mando. You relent in your study of her, choosing to focus on the dirt beneath your feet.

“No,” Din replies. “Says she has a son out there like him though.”

You can’t help but notice that Mando and the people he knows keep mentioning a child. You’re unsure of who exactly they’re talking about, but maybe like the saber, it’s a story for another time. There’s an air about Mando and thinking back on when you had first encountered him, his body language had changed at the mention of Castin. Had he also lost someone?

“You’re a detective now? What, bounty work get too difficult for you?” Cara says. Her tone comes off teasing, but the way Mando shifts his weight, he seems irritated.

“The Jedi that took Grogu with him…there were more like him. But they weren’t as nice.” Mando supplies. Cara’s face changes, her serious expression dropping.

“I have these nightmares. I’ve been told and I’m convinced that they’re moments in my life stolen from me, from the people who took my son from me. I employed this Mandalorian because I knew he could help me get the answers I’m searching for. All I ask is that you help him do his job so I can finally be at peace.” You were frustrated by her lack of compassion and you felt helpless watching her and the Mandalorian go back and forth.

She doesn’t meet your eyes this time, instead looking at Mando, who nods. Her jaws ticks and she sighs, the tension in her body releasing.

“Cara Dune, Marshal for Nevarro.” She introduces herself, extending her hand out. You take it, tentative before she shakes, her grip firm. You wait for her to turn away before you wring out your hand, trying to mask the pain. Something like a laugh comes from Mando and you glower at him.

He seems to notice your expression because he clears his throat, the sound breaking through the vocoder. Cara focuses her attention on the building in front of you and with the jerk of her head, she signals you two to follow her.

“Don’t think I forgot the last time you asked me to run someone through our system. Now I have a psychotic bitch and her posse hunting me down all because I’m your ally. The only thing protecting me is the New Republic.” She grumbles, trekking to her office.

You look to Mando but this time he’s not focusing on you and doesn’t catch your gaze. This was the part in the job where no questions were asked and yet your curiosity was still eating away at your mind. There was more to the Mandalorian than what you already knew, but you would save that conversation for another time.

Glancing around her office, you watch Cara round her desk and sit in the chair. The computer terminal in front of her groans to life as she powers it on.

“I need a name, something to run through the system to see if you haven’t been completely wiped out.” Cara looks between you both, her finger hovering over the keys as she waits.

Wiped out? Was that even possible? Your heart raced at the prospect of everything about you being erased. First, your memories, now possibly all records of your existence. Why hadn’t they just killed you? Maybe that was their goal and they hadn’t completed it. Valara had said you arrived in her village bloody and incoherent, near death. Maybe it was the luck that saved you after all, bringing you back. You cursed the people that left you in this current state, wondering why they didn’t complete possibly the easiest task and kill you for good. Instead, they steal your son and your life away from you and now you’re left to pick up the shattered pieces of your mind.

The Mandalorian calls your name and you break away from your thoughts. Tears sting at the corner of your eyes and the room around you almost blurs. You take a deep breath and swallow down the harsh lump growing in your throat.

You give Cara your name and you try to sound out the clicks of her typing your name into her system. There had to be something, anything that gave you a clue about who you were. Something that offered more than what you already knew about yourself. Cara’s expression is not promising as she frowns, pressing through until the sound of a dead-end in the listed files stops her.

“There’s nothing.” Her face and tone say it all. She’s surprised. You’re nonexistent within the system that houses the files of millions within the galaxy. You’re nothing more than a ghost.

“Castin,” you manage to get out. “Castin is my son’s name. There has to be something.”

Cara looks at the Mandalorian, waiting for his confirmation. The tears burn again and your face grows hot from the embarrassment. A sigh and the keys click again. Mustering up your courage, you face her again as the computer scans the name and searches through the available files. Once again, the sound of a dead-end in the list of files fills your ears.

You can’t help but sob. There’s nothing on you. Nothing about your son. You both are ghosts within the galaxy. Not even a record of Castin’s birth. The Empire had wiped everything they thought would be traceable. Not even a mention of his father, if he was even alive at all. You didn’t even know what to expect, perhaps you had hoped too much and thought the sources would be endless. You’re left with nothing and your heart breaks at the thought.

Pushing through the doorway, ignoring the calls of your name of both Cara and the Mandalorian, you only make it a few feet before you fall on your knees. You don’t know how you can muster enough energy to scream, but you do. It pierces the silent air around you and echoes throughout the valley. Now, all of Nevarro knows of your pain. You hoped the rest of the universe heard your pain. A part of you wished that the people who did this to you also heard.

Your throat burns as you sob into the cloak around your shoulders. Breath hitching as you hear boots approaching, you turn your body towards the sound.

“I thought there would be something,” you say, your throat raw. “Anything. To give me hope that my son is still out there.”

“You couldn’t have known that the Empire would clear any trace of your existence.” The Mandalorian reassures.

“I should’ve,” you weep. “They tortured me! I was nearly dead and to think I was a survivor. Why didn’t they just kill me.”

There’s silence from the Mandalorian. Sitting there in the sand, you think there’s no longer a reason for him to stay. Your son was only an existing memory. According to the New Republic, he hadn’t even existed at all. Not even as someone lost in the fight against the Empire.

“Look,” he finally says. Your sobs are mere whimpers now. “You asked me to find your son. And I will. Just because there’s no record of his existence doesn’t mean he’s still not out there. You’re here, right now and there’s no record of you.”

“It would’ve been easier,” you spit out, “I could’ve at least seen what they had on me before my mind became nothing but mush.”

There’s a heavy silence that follows as you try and gather yourself. Using the poncho to wipe your tears away, you take deep breaths. Getting angry at the one person who agreed to help you was not going to make your situation any better.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know,” is all he says. “I lost someone too. Not to the Empire, but I understand your pain.”

“Is that the child everyone keeps bringing up?” You ask and you think you hear a chuckle break through the vocoder.

“Yes,” he breathes. In the corner of your eye, you see him kneel beside you. “You mind?”

You shake your head and watch as the warrior sits on the ground with you, joining you as you stare into the empty valley before you.

“His name was Grogu. I picked him up, as a bounty. I was supposed to bring him in, but I saw what they were planning to do with him and I didn’t understand why they would need to do it to a child.” He starts, “Turns out, just about everyone in the galaxy wanted to turn him in too. The Empire had a high price on his head and in the Outer Rim, credits mattered more than morals.”

“What was so special about him?”

“He was like your son. He had these abilities; I didn’t understand them at first. But he used them to save me and my friends. To protect us. When I finally met someone like him, she told me that he was Force-sensitive. He needed training, but she refused to train him because of his attachment to me.”

“You were his father?” You ask and his helmet dips in a nod. “I’m sorry.”

“It was when he was taken from me by Imperials that I realized how much he meant to me. They wanted him, just for a vile of blood. I didn’t care what they did with it, to be honest. I just wanted him safe. We were trapped in the Imps flight deck, the only thing between us and the Dark Troopers was a doorway. Then, this Jedi came along and wiped out the entire platoon of them.”

There’s a silence that follows his last statement. It’s comfortable, you both sit there as the valley remains quiet save for a few whispers of the wind. You dwell on the thought that this Mandalorian, a warrior, bounty hunter, feared throughout the galaxy, was also a father to a child. A parent that just wanted to keep his son safe.

“Mandalorians have a Creed. My Tribe followed the way of what others call Children of the Watch. Removing our helmets in front of another living being is forbidden. If I did, I would no longer be considered a true Mandalorian. But I did, for him. It was selfish of me, but I didn’t want him to remember me for my armor. He deserved better than that.”

Reaching out, you placed a tentative hand on his knee. He remains quiet but relaxes underneath your hand. It’s a reassuring touch, that reminds him that you understand his pain. You’re here for him. He seems to understand the meaning behind the touch.

“You did what you thought was right,” you tell him, offering a kind smile even behind the blotchy look on your face. “That’s all that matters.”

“Yes,” he breathes. “It was my job to get him to his kind. The job is complete. Now it’s my job to help you find your son.”

“There’s nothing on us, no record.” You scoff, shaking your head and removing your hand. “I’m better off returning to Puvo so that I can continue my sessions with Valara’s grandmother. Maybe then the nightmares will stop and I can move on.” The lump in your throat grows again and you can feel the burn of more tears.

“You asked me to help you, so I will,” Mando says, his tone firm. “Having zero records on you or your son is just a bump in the road. I’m sure there’s information out there. You just need to trust me.”

With a sniffle, you nod. You can feel his gaze on you, so you turn and your eyes meet his visor. You’re not sure if he’s actually making eye contact underneath his helmet, but all that matters to you is that he’s promising to stay.

“I’m going to assume that there’s no record of Castin’s father?” You ask. The lack of memories about his father was disheartening.

“I’ll ask Cara to keep looking, but I’m not going to promise you that she’ll find anything. We had your name and your son’s name, but with no name or description, it will be a difficult process.” The Mandalorian sighs. You nod, looking back at the horizon of Nevarro.

For the first time, in a long time, you felt a semblance of peace. Even after the valley had heard your screams, you knew deep down that this is what you expected. The Empire would’ve been fools had they forgotten to wipe out the record of you. At least you had answers. At least you had the Mandalorian to help you now. That’s all you needed.

Read Chapter Five - The Sith here!

#din djarin x reader #din dijarin fanfiction #din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin/reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian/reader #start again #cara dune

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disastermages · 3 years

Text

[read it on ao3]

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

Wen Qing isn’t in the kitchen by the time Meng Yao walks back in, though her voice does call out to him when he passes by a door that’s always been previously closed. He doesn’t expect her white coat, nor does he expect the way it makes him feel smaller than her, though she sits in a chair, one leg crossed over the other. Her jeans and boots ruin the picture of her as a doctor, but she’s pulled her hair back, making her look professional from the knee up.

“Can I help you, Miss Wen?” Meng Yao won’t let the confusion sound in his voice, though he still holds onto the doorway. Wen Qing looks meaningfully at the chair across from her, but Meng Yao won’t take the bait until she asks him to. For a long few seconds, Wen Qing seems content to wait him out too, studying her short, unpainted nails and writing things down on the clipboard she balances on her knees.

“Mrs. Yu asks that every member of the household undergo a monthly check up. I’m not doing this for fun.” Wen Qing says finally, clicking her pen once, twice, three times while she frowns up at Meng Yao, “Please have a seat so we can get the questionnaire done.” Meng Yao sits down across from her without further fight, but he doesn’t stop himself from looking around.

“Why have I never seen this room before?”

“Because you aren’t Wei Wuxian and you don’t insist on climbing every tree you can find.” Wen Qing answers, but doesn’t look up from where she’s printing his name onto the form, her hand heavy and sure as it carves out the letters. “You have your office upstairs, and I have mine down here.”

At second glance, Meng Yao sees the piles of books laying just behind a cluster of mugs and glasses, though no plates lay in the office. There’s no examination table to be found, and Meng Yao is grateful for it. “Your birth date and year, please.”

“February 20th, 1964.” Meng Yao answers easily, his hands sit carefully on his own knees, but his fingers still want to tighten and pull at his pants. His chair was already uncomfortable.

“Can you tell me what today’s date is and where you are?”

“The date is May 16th, 1988, and I am at Jiang Manor.” The questions were simple ones, Wen Qing even nods approvingly to herself, but Meng Yao can guess what’s coming. Doctors always asked for complete patient histories, though nothing Meng Yao told her would leave the office, he’d shut the door behind him after he’d finally come in. She would ask eventually, and Meng Yao would have to answer her. He couldn’t lie completely, just in case she already had his records, but he could tell the same lies that were already in those records.

Still, she asks all the questions she should, moving down a list as if he were sitting down inside of an actual doctor’s office. No, he does not smoke, nor does he drink more than the occasional glass of wine. No, to his knowledge, heart disease does not run in his family.Yes, he is sexually active. Yes, he is using protection.

Meng Yao hadn’t missed the flicker of amusement in Wen Qing’s eye when she’d asked the last two questions, but she’s still playing at being professional, so Meng Yao will play along. “Why does Mrs. Yu ask that we do this?”

“Hypochondria by proxy.” Wen Qing says it with a snort, but then her eyes widen and snap up to Meng Yao’s face, her mouth growing hard for a moment before she sighs and sets the clipboard aside. “Don’t repeat what I said, it’s not even an official diagnosis.” Wen Qing pinches the bridge of her nose between two fingers and when she takes her hand away, the spot between her eyes is pink and irritated. “Yanli’s illness is autoimmune, but that doesn’t stop Mrs. Yu from worrying that we’re all going to bring in something that’s going to kill her. She’s getting better.”

Meng Yao isn’t sure who Wen Qing means. The whole house had been treating Jiang Yanli delicately since her fainting spell, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t feeling better. If Yu Ziyuan were getting better, why would she still mandate his check up? He doesn’t ask, he’d have to wait and see.

They go back to playing professionals after that, with Wen Qing shining a flashlight in his eyes and knocking a plastic hammer against his knee caps. She doesn’t ask him to test his grip strength on her fingers.

“You have a broken wrist and three broken ribs on your file, following a fall down a flight of stairs, could I see the flexibility in that wrist? I’ll want to take a look at your ribs, too.” His wrist only ached when it was cold, Meng Yao tells her as he bends it back and forth and rolls it easily. There’s still a clicking sound, but the pain of it has long since faded.

“I’ll be quick about this.” Wen Qing promises as Meng Yao removes his button down and then his undershirt, pressing her cold fingers into his ribs harder than Meng Yao deems necessary. “How did you fall?” The question is neutral, and Wen Qing’s voice is calm, but the voice of the triage nurse had also been calm while she took down his information. He hadn’t been able to write it down himself, he’d driven himself to the emergency room one handed.

“I was at my father’s house, I tripped.” Meng Yao chooses the words carefully, just like he had the night it happened. The doctors and nurses at the hospital had been willing to take his word for it then, but when he glances down at Wen Qing, he sees something hard and cold in her eyes. It doesn’t fade as she sits back into her chair, giving him room to dress again.

“You’ve healed well.” Wen Qing offers it up without roughness or warmth, as if she already knew the truth and she could accept his lie as some sort of gift. It was a gift Meng Yao is willing to take, though, better the gift of acceptance than the charity of pity.

Her examination is complete, but Wen Qing still doesn’t set Meng Yao free, her small, pale hands coming to rest in her own lap as she sets the clipboard aside for good. “You have to understand, Meng Yao, that Yanli has grown very attached to you, very quickly. She’s friendly with everyone, but even with me, she didn’t share everything right away.” Wen Qing does not touch him, but she looks as though she’s thinking about it, her eyes going dark and still, “She considers you a friend, please don’t make her regret that choice.”

There were a dozen things Meng Yao could say to defend himself, but when he opens his mouth and Wen Qing looks up at him again. He realizes then that she’s asking him for a favor, and he nods along with it, swallowing thickly.

“Something else before I let you go, Meng Yao,” Wen Qing nods and looks away from him, pulling herself back together while she wrestles an envelope from the stack of papers on her desk, “my uncle has found out that you’re here, he’s asked me to pass along his letter of recommendation to you, should you ever need it.” For a long moment, the letter hangs between them, and Meng Yao’s mouth hangs open like a fish.

Wen Ruohan and both of his sons were supposed to be in three separate maximum security prisons, Meng Yao had only worked for them for a year when the offices and three of the houses had been raided. Meng Yao had been spared implication by eight months. Misfortune had reached for him and grabbed Wen Ruohan and his sons by the collars instead.

“I thought…”

“He’s still allowed to write to family, Meng Yao, but I wouldn’t doubt they check his letters.”

No matter how badly he wants to, Meng Yao won’t tear the letter open in front of Wen Qing, instead, he nods his head once more and turns to leave, listening to the scratching of Wen Qing’s pen as the door nearly shuts behind him.

“You’ll find a shoe box full of condoms in the third drawer of my filing cabinet, should you need them. Mrs. Yu makes me keep those, too.”

Wen Qing tosses it over her shoulder as if it means nothing, but Meng Yao feels his cheeks color as he hurries away from her office as quickly as he can without running. He’s grateful that she doesn’t like him enough to ask him for details. Jiang Wanyin and Wei Wuxian either didn’t know, or didn’t care, and Jiang Yanli was too kind to ask, she only hinted and grinned when Meng Yao’s cheeks colored, when she wasn’t passing along gifts from Wen Qing’s hands.

Still, part of him wants to tell someone, so it’s more real than the small, cold square of his bedroom or stolen kisses in the woods while Jiang Wanyin and Wei Wuxian ran ahead of them to push each other into the river. Part of him wants to know if Lan Xichen would mind such a thing, or if he intended on keeping what lay between him and Meng Yao more of a secret than it already was.

Bile and worry rise up in his throat, but Meng Yao chokes them down. He wouldn’t go there. Lan Xichen hadn’t given him any kind of indication that he wanted to keep what’s between them the kind of secret one keeps locked in the basement or in a closet with skeletons, he’d only told Meng Yao to be careful of Yu Ziyuan, that she wouldn’t fire either of them, that she would just plant herself between them if she saw them getting too close. Lan Xichen didn’t strike him as cruel, so he couldn’t be. He’d always been kind, even when he stole into Meng Yao’s room, even when he was forced to wrangle Wei Wuxian or Jiang Wanyin.

Lan Xichen is kind. Meng Yao would allow him to be.

The taste of something bitter and cruel is just leaving Meng Yao’s mouth when he sees him, the same boy from the woods, wearing the same clothes and lingering at the edge of the Jiang’s property line, one hand resting on a tree, while the other holds a knife, an amused smile on his face, even as Meng Yao turns and hurries back to the kitchen, uncaring if anyone hears him run now.

Jiang Yanli whirls around with a knife still held in her hands when Meng Yao scrambles into the kitchen, an apron protects the gray-white of her dress from whatever it is she’s cooking. “Do you see him?” Meng Yao asks, turning the lock on the back door and latching it.

For a moment, Jiang Yanli only looks at Meng Yao, before she turns to look out the window, and then she pales further. “Xue Yang.” Her voice doesn’t climb above a whisper as she backs away from the window, the knife still held in one hand while the other grabs onto Meng Yao’s elbow, holding him tight as they both back out into the dining room. “You have to go get A-Xian and A-Cheng.” Jiang Yanli’s voice is tight as she gives her orders, her grip tightening still, “He’s tried to hurt A-Xian before, but A-Cheng’s temper… I don’t want either of them going out there. Where is Wen Qing?” It doesn’t feel as though Jiang Yanli is going to let him go long enough for Meng Yao to collect her brothers, but he still backs her further away, until he’s sure she’s out of sight from any of the kitchen windows.

They both back into the same chair, but Jiang Yanli is the one who threatens it with her knife, her shoulders high and tight.

It takes Meng Yao nearly five minutes to guide Jiang Yanli back to Wen Qing’s office, but the door is locked when they get there. Meng Yao doesn’t stop himself from pounding on it with the flat of his hand. He doesn’t see the boy, Xue Yang when he dares to glance at the window, but that meant nothing at all, not when Wen Qing still hadn’t answered them.

Meng Yao’s hand almost meets her nose when she finally opens the door with a jerk, a question already halfway out of her mouth when she sees the knife in Jiang Yanli’s hand, for the first time, Meng Yao sees that there’s still broccoli stuck to the blade. Wen Qing insists on calling the police after she’s gotten Jiang Yanli to sit down in the same chair that Meng Yao had occupied earlier, but the knife lays on the desk, just within her reach as Meng Yao turns to try and call Wei Wuxian and Jiang Wanyin down, but he gets no response.

Licking his lips, Meng Yao glances back once, his eyes meeting Wen Qing’s while she stays on the line, one of her hands has already found its way onto Jiang Yanli’s cheek, one show of affection already bigger than what Meng Yao had already seen. Without a word, she frowns and nods, wedging the phone between her shoulder and ear to wave him out of the room.

He didn’t have to ask her to lock the door, and she didn’t have to tell him she was going to. Jiang Yanli would be safe with Wen Qing, at least until he could find her younger brothers and herd them into Wen Qing’s office too.

Meng Yao keeps clear of the windows, calling them again, even as he starts down his short flight of stairs. Wei Wuxian’s workshop was mostly soundproofed, they might not have heard him call because they were in there with the door closed, but when Meng Yao opens the door without knocking, everything is still and dark. It makes Meng Yao’s skin prickle, Wei Wuxian’s workshop wasn’t meant to be still, Meng Yao knows that much.

“Jiang Wanyin! Wei Wuxian!” Meng Yao doesn’t shout for them, but he lets his voice become sharp as he climbs the stairs two at a time. He should have grabbed something. There were knives to spare in the kitchen, but Jiang Yanli wouldn’t forgive him if he lost one or damaged it, it was better to leave them where they lay in their drawers. “Your sister and Miss Wen want the both of you downstairs.”

Meng Yao isn’t foolish enough to pretend he has any authority over them, if Lan Xichen had been present, Meng Yao might have invoked his name too, but Lan Xichen would be home with his family by now. What would they do with them when they did get them downstairs and herded into Wen Qing’s office? They couldn’t stay there all day and night, there’d hardly been enough room for Meng Yao, Jiang Yanli, and Wen Qing in the office. Five people would be unforgivably tight and nervous while they were stalked by Xue Yang in the yard.

Meng Yao should have grabbed something, even if it were just the fire poker, like Yu Ziyuan had done. It would have been a constant in his hands. It might have done something.

He opens the doors without care now, stopping for only a handful of seconds to look before he moves on again, anxiety climbing up his throat and bringing that bitter-sick taste back into his mouth.

Calling again, Meng Yao rounds the corner that leads to the west wing of the house without realizing it until the chill surrounds him. He doesn’t stop himself from wrapping his arms around himself, he won’t acknowledge that he can see his own breath, not now, not until he finds Jiang Wanyin and Wei Wuxian.

“I won’t ask again, come out and come downstairs with me!” Finally, Meng Yao allows his voice to become stern, though who knows if they’d think anything of it, if they did hear him. He’s just about to turn around and start searching downstairs when the creaking of a door makes Meng Yao walk too quickly towards it, his hand catching the knob and pushing inside before he can think better of it.

“Your sister wants you downstairs, the police are on their way, please come down with me now, before she starts to worry.” Frustration had kept him blind for a moment, but when Meng Yao looks, the room is empty and colder than the hallway had been. His breath is clinging to his lips in steady, white clouds now, and his hand leaves the doorknob.

The door wastes no time in slamming shut the second his back is turned, the knob refusing to turn no matter how many times Meng Yao rattles it or tries with all his strength. “Let me out.” Meng Yao tries to gather what’s left of the sternness before, but his throat is starting to feel thick. “Jiang Wanyin, Wei Wuxian, now isn’t the time for pranks, let me out and I won’t tell Miss Jiang what you’ve done.” He’s not pleading, Meng Yao tells himself, he’s bargaining. If he bargains, they might let him out with the cruel laughter only teenage boys are capable of.

Meng Yao pounds one fist against the door now, the other still rattling the doorknob, as if someone might hear him and let him out from the outside, shivering all the while. He doesn’t dare glance behind himself, even as he hears another door in the room swing open. He tries to tell himself that he’s imagining the fingers curling around his neck, his voice raising as he finally lets himself plead to be let out, but no answer ever comes. No cruel laughter ever echoes through the halls and no footfalls of Jiang Wanyin and Wei Wuxian ever sound as Meng Yao squeezes his eyes shut.

A voice Meng Yao has never heard before calls out to him, and air, still colder than before, nags at his ear and at his upper arms while the voice pleads for him to turn around, to turn around and look. He won’t pretend he can’t hear the grin in that voice, it makes him too sick to ignore. Laughter rings out around him, changing the voice from high pitched and grating to something lower and closer, but madder all the same, the hands at his throat squeezing tight once more before they’re gone and the door swings open, dropping him onto the hallway floor while Meng Yao coughs and sputters.

His vision is still blurry when two shapes come running to him, both of them dropping down to their knees and calling out to a third, smaller shape behind them. He has to blink and cough a while longer before his eyes focus on the faces of Jiang Wanyin and Wei Wuxian, even as Jiang Yanli comes to kneel between the two of them, her face wild and afraid.

“Where were they?” Meng Yao asks Jiang Yanli instead of either of her brothers, his throat still feeling rough, but he doesn’t dare reach for it, Jiang Yanli’s hands are already on his shoulders, stopping Meng Yao from trying to stand up on his own.

“A-Xian and A-Cheng were in the downstairs west wing,” Jiang Yanli says calmly, trying hard to control her face, even as both of her brothers sit back and look away, or at each other, “they said they heard a door slam and someone start screaming right above their heads.” Meng Yao wouldn’t call what he’d done screaming, but he still swallows and nods, though his throat aches. “What happened?”

Jiang Yanli’s voice isn’t accusatory, but she does look over Meng Yao’s head and into the room, a frown on her face and her hands holding Meng Yao tighter. “The door was open, I thought your brothers might be in there, but when I went in to look, the door slammed shut and wouldn’t open again.” Meng Yao doesn’t tell her about the hands, or the laughter, not yet, not in front of the other two.

“It gets drafty up here.” Jiang Wanyin supplies weakly, and Jiang Yanli shakes her head.

“You know that’s not what it was, A-Cheng.” One hand leaves Meng Yao’s shoulder and presses against Jiang Wanyin’s cheek, tilting his head up from where he’d lowered it. Jiang Yanli does not smile, but she nods her head and strokes her thumb underneath her brother’s eye. “A-Yao, the police are searching the woods right now, and Wen Qing is waiting on the porch for them, I’d like to get you downstairs where we can look at your neck.”

Meng Yao knows the tone that Jiang Yanli is using now, he’d heard her use it dozens of times with both of her brothers, and even more rarely, with her mother or Wen Qing. She’s plying him with a sweet tone of voice, and Meng Yao lets her, though he insists on getting up on his own.

All three Jiang Siblings clump around him on the stairs, keeping him safe in the middle, with Jiang Yanli leading and Jiang Wanyin and Wei Wuxian bringing up the rear.

Meng Yao lets it be.

For now.

#the untamed #mdzs #mdzs fic #xiyao #untamed fic #jin guangyao #wen qing #jiang yanli #jgy #jyl #wq #this chapter is dedicated to my cats who waited until i was working on the spooky parts to start knocking stuff over in the next room

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windlion · 3 years

Text

I’m going to blame this on the Discord - but some of it, some of it’s just Author Three’s own doing. Mind the knives.

The OTHER way that Liu Sang has a brother:

Liu Sang was not an only child. He'd known that since he was four years old, and his stepmother had returned from the doctor beaming. Later they'd been even happier to report a boy, and Liu Sang had adjusted to the idea of being an older brother. He would have a didi. He had been nearly as excited as the parents when his brother was born.

It took a few years for him to understand what was really going on. Things that had been his were repurposed. Space that had been his was taken. Time and attention came grudgingly, as if stolen straight from the mouth of his younger brother. His didi was just as confused as he was, and Liu Sang hoped he never had the same horrible realization: he'd not gained a little brother; he'd been systematically replaced.

Liu Sang wasn't an only child, and he wasn't a wanted one, either. He'd known that well before the back of the truck and the tears that wouldn't stop until he'd run dry. When he tracked down his father years later, he wasn't expecting a warm welcome home. He'd been disposed of, rendered obsolete, sold on as secondhand goods, and garbage never went back to where it had been thrown out from.

He didn't give a warning. He just waited for an opportunity to catch his father alone. When his stepmother and her siblings left for some social event, he let himself in. The lock wasn't exactly a challenge any more. He walked through the downstairs, deliberately making noise as he went.

The layout of the house had changed; over there was where the living room used to be. There, the side window that he escaped out of into the narrow alley between the houses. It had been updated: windows bigger, brighter, the decoration now modern and bland. It reeked of middle class keeping-up-with-the-neighbors. He didn't know if it was better or worse that nothing lined up with his memories. Not a single sign of smoke damage remained.

It didn't take long for the man to come out from his office, heartbeat raising. Liu Sang kept his distance while he waited, lingering by the single cabinet of art on display. He appraised the art out of habit: only one piece looked like a good quality reproduction, and several others were just offensively tacky. Worthless.

Liu Fu took in the presence of an intruder, long hair and hoodie, and barked, "Who are you? What are you doing in here?"

Liu Sang put the vase down and turned. He'd seen the pictures, he knew what Liu Fu looked like now. It shouldn't have been a shock. What hit him harder was that the voice was the same. He could still hear the father he remembered underneath the years. Liu Sang's breath caught, and he forced himself to stay calm, tracing the edge of the dusty shelf with slightly shaky fingers.

"Do you remember? I used to live here." Liu Sang flicked his hand to indicate the modern open layout, "Before you remodelled."

Liu Fu was taken aback, already fast heart rate rising. "A-Sang?"

Liu Sang tipped his head in as much of a bow as he was willing to make. "Hello, father."

Liu Fu's heart skipped again, then he gestured hard towards the back of the house. Away from the windows, and where his wife or son may come home. Liu Sang could have told him if anyone was coming, but the kitchen suited him fine anyways. He didn't have as many memories tied to there. (Tied. Ha.)

Liu Fu took down a cup and poured himself tea, movements sharp and purposeful. He made no move to offer anything to Liu Sang. He sat down at the head of the table, one hand curled knuckle-white around the porcelain, even though the steam meant it must be close to burning hot. Liu Sang waited for him to collect himself, to speak, morbidly curious. What did he have to say for himself, after all this time?

What he started with should have been predictable. Liu Fu stared at him grimly, "If you think that you can show up here to blackmail me. . ."

Liu Sang cut him off, sharp, "I don't want your money."

That made Liu Fu's heart skip in a way that was familiar to him now. Fear. Liu Sang held the eyes of the man who could have been his father and went on, "I want to know about my mother."

Automatically, Liu Fu waved dismissively, "I don't know anything."

"You know more than I do." Liu Sang prompted, "Her name?"

"Wang Ming."

Liu Sang pulled out his notebook and pen, shoved it across the table. "Write it. Where from?"

Liu Fu complied, flipping the notebook shut and pushing it back with his fingertips like it was distasteful. "I don't know, somewhere west. She travelled a lot--part of the job. She was a sales representative. She liked Xuancheng. Said that her hometown was tiny and too old-fashioned for her, and Beijing was too noisy and big."

Comparing Beijing to the rest of China, that didn't really narrow it down much. Liu Fu could see his frustration, and barked a laugh, "I told you. It was almost twenty years ago. I don't remember a lot of details."

Liu Sang wanted to reply, it was seventeen, but if his father couldn't remember how old he was, then that wasn't going to make much of an impression anyways. "What about physical records? Paperwork, photos, anything?"

Liu Fu rested his elbows on the table, leaning forward. "Nothing. She didn't leave anything behind."

"Liar."

Liu Fu scoffed, "There's nothing left now."

Not lying. Damn. If there had been any clues they were likely thrown away years ago. Like he had been. (Or burned, a corner of his mind whispered, also like him.) That made too much sense. Liu Sang tried to prompt again, "What else? Nothing about her stood out?"

"I don't remember anything else."

Almost relieved, Liu Sang pounced, "Lying."

Liu Fu snorted derisively, "And how would you know, anyways?"

Liu Sang unclenched his jaw enough to respond, tilting his head in his father's direction. "Your heart rate increased." He narrowed his eyes, listening to that beat jump and skitter. "There's a flutter on the right atrial valve that becomes more pronounced under stress. You should take care to not overdo it."

Liu Fu's heart jumped again, then steadied as he seemed to reach some sort of decision. "You do have her eyes. She was a bitch when she was pissed."

Liu Sang didn't trust the look on his face as he relaxed, the way he went still and easy like the worst bullies did before delivering a blow they knew would hurt. When they wanted to watch it hit, watch you bleed. Liu Sang was already out of arm's reach, but he kept the table between them, hands clenching at his side preemptively.

Liu Fu spoke slowly, carefully. "I had good reason to think she cheated, though I didn't really put it together until after she was gone. She never let me go to the doctors appointments with her. Told me she wanted the child to be a surprise, however it was intended."

The way Liu Fu stared at him then, he made it clear that had he known what was coming, he wouldn't have chosen it. Dimly, Liu Sang remembered how attentive his father had been during his stepmother's pregnancy. How he had taken her to appointments. Ultrasounds. Been there for the birth. That was why.

Liu Fu's heart rate was still fast but damnably steady as he went on, "I thought then she was just being sensitive about how big she was getting. Now I think she damn well knew what she was doing."

Liu Sang could feel his own pulse in his palms with how hard he was clenching his fists. It made it difficult to track the steady rhythm of his father's, unwavering. "What do you mean?"

"I think you were the runt." Liu Fu rose to his feet, not breaking his gaze. "Wang Ming travelled light. She never wanted anything unnecessary, and never wanted second best."

Liu Sang couldn't speak.

Liu Fu took one, then another step closer, confident that he was delivering the finishing blow. "She took what she wanted, and she left me you." He sneered down at Liu Sang, hot breath against his face. "When you weren't even mine."

When Liu Fu shoved his shoulders, Liu Sang rocked unsteadily backwards. Too off balance to react more than to raise his hands in self-defense. Instead of hitting him, Liu Fu opened the back door behind him, and held it wide, his voice gone cold and heavy with the weight of finality. "Get out, and don't you dare come back."

This time, Liu Sang was expecting the rough shove that followed, and ducked out the door so that Liu Fu's hands only brushed air. Liu Sang pulled himself away, not daring to turn his back, and bit out without thinking, "Don't worry, you're dead to me."

He dropped his voice low, something vicious rising in him as a parting shot. "What should I burn for your grave?"

Liu Sang caught the way Liu Fu's eyes flicked desperately to the house around him. His own gorge rose at the sense-memory of heat-gasoline filling his nose-the way the crackling pervaded everything around him. Before it even hit skin. Something perverse made him ask, "Do you think it would take better this time?"

Liu Sang watched the man stumble back, that stressed heart fluttering hard. The slam of the door rang in his ears, and he almost couldn't hear his own bitter laughter as he left.

He didn't look back.

(When he found out the house burned not even weeks later, he laughed almost hysterically. It probably sounded unhinged, but if ever there was kharma waiting to be served, that was it. Who knew if someone helped it along. He didn't care.)

(Wang Can was told to clean up some loose ends that might start to fray. Wang Can was good. Thorough. Didn't leave anything to chance. And though the mission parameters were unusual, well, wasn't like it was hard. He wore the clothes he was given. He was deliberately sloppy and let the neighbors see when he came back for the evidence. He looked straight back at them as he blew the ash off the audio recorder. One might have fainted. He didn't know why, maybe it was the terrible taste in fashion. Whatever. Orders were orders.

The Wang clan knew what they were doing: directing the future.)

#sometimes I write #daomu biji #TLTR #Liu Sang #and bonus #Wang Can #twins!#TWINS #sometimes twins murder for each other and don't even know it #(that was ALL AUTHOR THREE'S FAULT thank you)#and I'm fighting the formatting so bear with me if it's ugly

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vansmaybeonthewall · 4 years

Text

Another One?

Masterlist

requests are open

i did promise something to my fellow Misha’s and it has been fulfilled

(don’t judge the choices I make, no God can tame me)

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“So get this. Lake Cachuma, California. Three men found dead with their ears blown out. All three found at the same place, at the edge of a dock leading into the water.”

“And this is our thing how?”

“Well, they weren’t taking some lovely vacation Dean. All three were found in their suits with a little note spilling their secret infidelities.”

“That’ll do it. Do we have a lead?”

“Yeah, Cassandra Peters. Senior at Santa Barbara High School, her dad was the most recent victim.”

“I hope you packed your bikini Sammy, California here we come.”

A Few Hours Later...

Yeah, it wasn’t sunny and warm as Dean Winchester expected. Cloudy skies and a light breeze greeted Sam and Dean as they arrived at the Peters household. Thunder rumbled in the distance, signifying a coming storm.

“Still ready for that swim Dean?”

“Oh shut up.”

“I don’t think you’ll need sunscreen anymore, I know how much you hate it.”

“Sam-

“Um, can I help you?”

The argument came to a halt when a young girl opened the door.

“Cassandra Peters?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you mind if we talk to you about-”

“My dad’s death? So does everyone else, so how are you any different?”

Sam and Dean were left speechless. Sure there were people who were defensive after a family death, but a teenage girl? Usually, day old mascara streaks could be seen with red, teary eyes. But Cassandra Peters? Her face was void of any emotion with dull eyes.

“We know what it’s like,” Dean started, “to lose someone.”

“Yeah well, do you know what it’s like to learn that that person wasn’t someone you knew?”

“We understand if you don’t want to talk about it, nobody does, but sometimes it’s easier to tell someone how you actually feel.” Sam hoped that was enough to get the girl talking.

She looked slightly guilty, I mean, they looked like nice guys.

“Look, I’m sorry. A friend of mine taught me to stop the tears with being an asshole. I don’t see how it works or how she does it, but I guess it’s a coping mechanism. Not for me I suppose.”

“Believe us when we say we understand.”

“Well, seeing as you’re still here, ask away.”

“Okay, was there anything strange that occurred around the time your dad died?”

“Well besides the weather, I don’t think so. Like the two before, a rain storm hit without warning. The streets flooded, you could barely see in front of you.”

“What about your dad? Did he seem strange to you?”

“Yeah, maybe two days before he seemed nervous, scared. He kept saying someone was following him. Some girl in a white dress.”

“Did he say what she looked like?”

“You see, that’s the strange part. He said he saw Y/N, which is weird because she was with me or in rehearsal. And there is no way Y/N would skip rehearsal.”

“Do you know where we can find Y/N?”

“She should be at rehearsal now actually. She’s not in trouble is she?”

“No, we just need to check up on her, have a little chat.”

“She’s at the high school, but be careful, she really doesn’t like being interrogated about her parents or any family related subject. She gave me the tip of being an asshole instead of being depressed, still not seeing how that works.”

“Can we ask why?”

“Her step-dad was the first victim.”

“Right. Well, if you think of anything, give us a call. Even the smallest thing can help.”

Dean handed her the famous “business” card, which made Cassandra do a double-take.

“Sam and Dean Winchester? As in Y/N Winchester?”

“Sorry?”

“Y/N Winchester, that’s who I’m talking about. You have the same name. Now come to think of it, you guys kind of look alike.”

Cassandra pulls a picture from her phone.

“This is Y/N.”

Sam and Dean share a look, one between shock and nervousness.

“Would you, uh, would you mind telling us about her?” Dean asked, afraid to know the truth.

“I don’t see why not, this is some TV shit. But you should probably come in, the rain won’t be getting any better.”

The Peters household was quiet and empty. Even with all the lights on, the house was dark. What captured the brother’s attention was the pictures of Cassandra and Y/N.

“So what do you wanna know?”

“Anything really.”

“Okay. Y/N Marie Winchester, where to start. Born June 25, 1989, she’s a Cancer. Tall, like you two. She has the kindest eyes, when she looks at her it’s like she can see into your soul. She acts tough at first, but once she lets you in she’s one of the funniest people you’ve ever known. Oh, absolutely hates dresses, her favorite things to wear are flannels and her leather jacket. God that leather jacket, she never takes that thing off. She loves to sing, always has. She doesn’t like to get close to people, it’s like she’s afraid they’ll get hurt or that maybe she’ll have to leave them behind.”

Sam smiled softly and Dean held a thoughtful look, Could there really be another Winchester?

“Wait, she has your smile. And she has that same look when taking a test. Do you really not know if you’re related?”

“No, no Y/N Winchester has came up.”

“Well, I’ll take you to her. One, I’d love for Y/N to have her family. Two, I need a source of happiness and this family reunion will do it.”

“Lead the way.”

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“Okay, one more run through ‘World Burn’ and that’s a wrap. Y/N you ready?”

“Always.”

“Alright, from the top!”

Approx. a minute or two later, idk time

As the trio made their way to the theatre, Cassandra could hear the chorus.

“Come on! We’re gonna miss the best part.”

Lucky for them, they made it before the big note.

“Gotta love a woman in power. Wait here, I’ll bring her to you.” Cassandra jogs towards Y/N as she jumped offstage. Greeting her with a hug, she explains her predicament.

“A sister,” Dean started, “we might have a sister?”

“With the world we live in, I don’t find it impossible Dean.”

“But why would Dad-”

“Sam, Dean, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Sam and Dean. Winchester.”

“Okay, I get that, but that doesn’t automatically make us related Cass.”

“Stop being hard-headed. Why don’t you guys talk it out? I’ll meet up with Jessie. See you later jerk.” With that, Cassandra took a U-turn towards another student.

“Bitch.” Y/N called after her. She turned towards the two giants, making a face at their surprised ones. “What?”

“Nothing, do you mind if we talk to you outside?”

“I don’t see why not.”

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“Holy shit! Is that a 1967 Chevy Impala? Please tell me it’s yours, I’ll tell you all my life secrets if it is.”

“Uh, yeah, it is.” Dean stuttered. The information the brothers were learning kept hitting them in the face. Is she really a Winchester?

“Yes! Let us congregate at this lunch table and I’ll spill my tragic life story.”

“So, you sing?”

“Yeah, best thing that’s ever happened to me. Everyone says I took it from my mom, but who knows, not me that’s for sure. Me and Cass are also in a band, which reminds me, I have to be somewhere in two hours, so if we could do this a little fast that would be great thanks.”

Dean, unlike Sam, wanted to get straight to the point. Why ease into the subject when it is so painfully obvious she’s a Winchester?

“What do you know about your dad?”

“Not much really, I just know he took off before I was born. I lived with my mother until I was about 5. Then my quote unquote “dad” came back into my life and my mother disappeared. Stayed with him for about a year, met a lot of strange people, and I was finally dropped off with some random couple here. Terrible parenting, but here I am alive and well I guess. But he did leave me some sort of book, more of a copy.”

Both brothers were intrigued in her life story. A strange life, a Winchester life. Y/N pulled the book out of her backpack, but when she did her shirt allowed the top of the anti-possession tattoo to peak out. Everything was pointing towards the fact that the three were related, but we can’t have any stones left unturned can we?

“Did that book say anything about your dad? A name, a picture maybe?” Sam was anxious.

“There was a letter when the book was first given to me with the initials J.W. but that’s it. I don’t think he wants to be found.” A solemn look crossed her face. “Well, that was fun, but I have to go.”

“Wait-”

“Look, you guys seem nice and it would be cool if we were related somehow, but I have a place to be. You’re welcome to come by though. I’ll give you my number, and maybe we could talk tomorrow. I should have more time seeing that it is Saturday tomorrow. It was nice meeting you Sam and Dean. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

As she walked away, Sam and Dean formed a plan. First, kill whatever monster terrorizing the town, then find out who the hell Y/N Winchester was.

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So close, but apparently so far. Upon looking in the journal, Sam and Dean found a new monster, a siren. And though the monster seemed to be a siren, something wasn’t right. The bleeding ears made no sense. No siren case had bleeding ears. However, banshee cases dealt with bleeding ears, but no bodies near water. There was only one answer.

Break time.

Y/N had sent Dean a message about the bar her band would be at, so the brothers decided to find out as much as they could about the girl before heading there.

“Dean, there’s nothing in the journal and I’ve read through it twice, what else are we missing?”

“Missing...missing...missing! Sammy, you’ve outdone yourself.” Dean reached into his pocket and pulled the stolen letter.

“Dean!”

“What! It slipped out of her journal.” Bitchface. “Okay, maybe I slipped it out of her journal, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that we can compare Dad’s handwriting with the letter. And then you can hack into hospital records to find her birth certificate.”

“I am not hacking into the hospital records.”

“Oh c’mon Sammy, don’t you want to know who she is?”

“Of course I do, but I don’t want to get arrested while doing it.”

“Whatever, just give me the journal.”

Dean was only going to skim over the handwriting before something caught his eye. Information that wasn’t shared lay on the paper. The J.W was obvious on the bottom, but what caught his eyes were his name, Sam’s name, and an unfamiliar one.

“That little bitch.”

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It took too long, it took too long, it took too long For you to call back And normally, I would just forget that Except for the fact it was my birthday My fuckin' birthday

Sam and Dean entered the bar, a bar that apparently allowed teenagers in, and spotted Y/N on the small stage. They could see why she needed to leave, not only to get them off her tail, but for all the other students partying their asses off.

We got along, we got along, we got along Until you did that Now all I want is just my stuff back Do you get that? Let me repeat that I want my shit back

“So what’s the plan?”

“One we have to get her away from everyone else. Two, we can’t let her out of our sight. Remember what Cassandra said, the weather aligns with a body being found the next day. And since we don’t know the next victim, we have to hold Y/N hostage somehow.”

“Where do we take her? She’s not going to abandon her friends Dean.”

“I don’t know, tell her we found something about Dad or her mom. Technically, we’re not lying, so don’t feel bad about it.”

“Yeah, yeah alright.”

The two parted ways, searching for inconspicuous exits while watching Y/N. Though, it didn’t take long before Y/N spotted Sam.

“Hey Sam, glad you made it. Where’s Dean?”

“He’s around here somewhere. Look, I needed to talk to you about your dad. We think we found something.”

“Now?”

“Yeah, I mean, if you can.”

“Now’s not really a good time. We can’t pick this up tomorrow?”

“It’s ki-” “Sammy!”

“Oh hey Y/N, mind if we talk to you for a second?”

“I can’t leave-”

“Yeah, but we really need to talk to you.” Dean had a smug smirk holding up the letter.

“Fine.”

Outside...

“So Y/N, you got anything important to tell us?”

��Nothing you don’t already know Dean.”

“Wrong answer.”

“Dean-”

“No Sammy, she needs to start telling the truth before someone gets hurt. Like little Cassie’s dad or Jessie’s dad.”

“What do you want from me Dean?”

“You see, we were here on a case, but I bet you already knew that. Three people were killed, your step-dad, Matthew Jacobs, and Holt Peters, but you already knew that. All three said they saw a girl in white, and what do you know, it was you. We thought we solved the case, but nothing fit the banshee or siren profile. Imagine my surprise when I find my name along with Sam’s and a little gift. Athena Drea, some hybrid between a banshee and a siren. Fits the profile doesn’t it? Oh but that’s not all, Dad knew her, dear old John Winchester knew your mommy. And I’m betting that she disappeared because her time was up. What I don’t understand is your name? Why were you blessed with some form of mom’s name? What is so special about Y/N Marie Winchester?”

Angry tears streamed down Y/n’s face.

“Congratulations Dean Winchester. You figured me out.”

“Y/N-”

“No, it’s fine Sam, he’s right. What’s so special about me? The fact that I have no parents? That I have my mother’s powers? That I’m related to you? Nothing good comes with being me. There’s always a catch. Those people I killed? They tried to kill me first. Those lies about cheating, made them up. Yes it’s sick and twisted, but I’m still alive right? I’m lucky? I tried to protect you from knowing me, from being related to me. Why do you think I never reached out to you? Everyone around me gets hurt. My friends don’t know me like they think they do, I killed their dad! There is nothing special about me, and god if there is, I’d really like to know. Because all I know is that I’m a screw up with no family. So forgive me for running and lying.”

She tried to leave, but an arm on her shoulder prevented her from doing so.

“You two should go, leave before something else happens. There’s no monster to kill, but I’d gladly let you kill me. That wouldn’t be the worst thing that’s happened to me.”

“Y/N.”

She shrugged his hand off and started to run.

“Y/N!”

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

“You were right, I should have never gotten attached.”

It was dark, the only source of light came from the moon. The sounds of the lake calmed Y/N from the harsh argument.

“People got hurt.”

The quiet brought her peace.

“Some were innocent. Cass and Jessie, they didn’t deserve their family to fall apart.”

It took Sam and Dean quite a while to find Y/N.

“I met them. Sam and Dean, they seem nice, but I screwed up mum. I lied and I don’t think they like me much anymore. It was nice to know that I had family out there. I know dad told me in the letter, but I didn’t think we would meet. You know how it goes, hunters and monsters don’t mix.”

Sneaking behind her wasn’t easy.

“I don’t understand mum. I don’t know what to do anymore. I can’t stay here anymore. I’ll have to leave and I won’t have anybody anymore.”

“You have us.”

She whipped around to find her brothers awkwardly standing there.

“What do you two bozos want?”

Sam took the initiative, “We want you to come with us.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re family,” Dean surprisingly said, “and family means no one gets left behind.”

With that, the three had a slightly awkward, yet welcomed group hug,

Hours later.....

Everything was sorted. Y/N was leaving with Sam and Dean, and it was exciting. No more school, Sam sort of disapproved on that. A constant road trip with her family. Although, they would encounter many obstacles in their journey.

Only one thing was left in Y/N’s mind. She sat in the backseat of the Impala and couldn’t resist it any longer.

“Hey Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you just Lilo & Stitch me back there?” Sam laughed and Y/N started to giggle.

“Shut up.” But he looked out his window with a smile.

She really was a Winchester.

#supernatural #supernatural one shot #supernatural imagine #dean winchester #sam winchester #spn #sister winchester #spn imagine

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lgvalenzuela · 4 years

Text

Angelique Campbell

Thanks to @hogwartsmystory for making such a cool template

This will be expanded upon, and some things that are left vague will be explained.

(Tw: there’s some violent acts and murder described)

Identity

Name: Angelique Campbell, also goes for Eirian (just by Artemis)

Gender: Female

Age: 16

Birth Date: October 23

Species: Human

Blood Status: Pureblood

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Ethnicity: Caucasian (welsh)

Nationality: Welsh

Residence: Merthyr Tydfil, Wales

Alignment: Chaotic neutral

Myer Briggs Personality Type: INTP-T (The logician)

Ennegram: Type 1 (The reformer)

The Mage

Wand: She doesn’t have or need a wand, but she does use her cane for dramatic flare

Boggart Form: The demon that’s been following her for centuries

Riddikulus Form: She hasn’t been able to find one yet

Amortentia:

She smells like petricor, nature and rosemary perfume

She smells Scotch malt whiskey, wild mint, heather, fresh sea air and summer rain

Patronus: Y Ddraig Goch

Patronus Memory: Meeting Artemis

Mirror of Erised: Her in her old age, having lived a life that’s been stolen from her time and time again

Specialized/Favourite Spells: The one’s Merlin left her and the one’s she made, specially healing ones

Misc Magical Abilities: When she worked under Merlin, they started writing a grimoire together, which has found her in every life. She’s been working on it for centuries and has really powerful magic contained in its pages

Appearance

Faceclaim:

Voiceclaim

Game Appearance: Who knows?

Height: 170cm (5’7’’)

Weight: 55 kg (121 lbs)

Physique: She’s thin and weak

Eye Colour: Aurora borealis green

Hair Colour: Ginger

Skin Tone: Pretty pale, but healthy looking

Scarring: Lost her leg under the demon’s attack and has a prosthetic ever since, missed a couple of years for going through rehabilitation. She also has a white streak of her she hides for going thought this trauma.

Inventory: She carries her grimorie and the Ouroboros brooch

Allegiances

Hogwarts House: Slytherin

Ilvermorny House: Pukwudgie

Affiliations/Organizations:

Wales

Pendragon family

Crowe family

Professions:

Healer

Teacher

Hogwarts Information

Class Proficiencies: Don’t get fooled by her good grades, she went to Hogwarts having just experience her own magic for so long she entered having no idea what kind of things they teach there, only earning such good academic record on behalf of maintaining a certain reputation, not for her family but for her own pride.

Astronomy: ★★★★★★☆☆☆☆ (A)

Charms: ★★★★★★★★★★ (O)

DADA: ★★★★★★☆☆☆☆ (A)

Flying: ☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆ (T)

Herbology: ★★★★★★★★★★ (O)

History of Magic: ★★★★★★★★★★ (O)

Potions: ★★★★★★★★★★ (O)

Transfiguration: ★★★★★★☆☆☆☆ (A)

Electives:

Ancient Studies: ★★★★★★★★★★ (O)

Muggle studies: ★★★★★★☆☆☆☆ (A)

Relationships

Family

The Campbells

Arianell and Cadogan Campbell

No matter they’re wizards, Angelique’s parents are truly product of their times, they see their daughters only as products they must sell, especially Angelique as their ‘pride and joy’ an extremely beautiful, intelligent and powerful witch? They want to get her married as soon as possible, to someone just as wealthy and powerful as the Campbells, and of course, a pureblood.

And they certainly didn’t take well how open minded and pro muggle Angelique was, in the eyes of society they were the perfects parents to her, in private she was the subject of much scorn and ridicule.

Brynna Campbell

If Angelique was the pride and joy of her parents, Brynn was for Angelique, in all her lives she never had a sibling and welcomed her with open arms, no matter if her parents wanted to keep them apart since Brynna was a squib, Angelique would never stop loving her.

But how did Brynna feel?

Love Interest: Artemis Crowe @brothergrimm71

She was urged by her parents to get married as soon as possible, but for a while has refused to fall in love until her curse is broken. Or at least she didn’t want to until she met Artemis, but still refuses to admit the obvious, with fear that if she dies again, she would break his heart.

Best Friends:

Lorilyn Kumari

Akane Fukui

Artemis Crowe

Backround/History

Previous lives

Eirian Emrys

Late 5th century - early 6th century

She was born in the midst of war between the Celtic Britons and the Anglo-Saxons, of her true parents we know not, but she was found by Merlin during The Battle of Badon, as a child, fighting. And was taking to Arthur, who was horrified that a child was fighting his wars and promised she never had to fight again, she was taking in by Merlin and became his assitant and apprentice (even though she did not possess any magical talent at this point)

And in this life she never fought again, she lived a completely normal life, she got married and had a kid, and everything was perfect until an Anglo-Saxon noble saw her, and decided she was for him. He found her alone and threatened to burn her village to the ground, to destroy everything she loved if she didn’t go with him.

And she did, gaining the reputation of an easy woman and a whore from the ones that were once her family and her friends.

But of course she did not love this man, and even if she married him and never said a thing, he came one day to their room, and impaled both of them with a sword.

Gael Bach

971-990

She woke up as another child, she received a brooch, with the form of an ouroboros, and even in the loudest night she could hear something creeping in.

But she also received the grimoire her and Merlin wrote together, and decided to expand it, since she had magical powers this life, found more druids that could teach her.

She tried to live a normal life, she fell in love again. Hogwarts was being built at this point, and children from Ireland and Wales were being dragged to this noticeably British school, she tried to do something, but a demon killed before that could happen.

Mair Carew

1261-1283

She woke up again, as different child. She received the ouroboros, and the grimoire, and heard the creeping sounds, realized she was cursed, and followed by a demon.

But she didn’t have much time to think about it since she lived midst of war again (and only took time to study magic with local wizards to keep working on the grimoire) battling for Wales, which they lost this time, and the last thing she saw before the demon got to her was her country being conquered.

She asked to be chained to a rock with a sword, to fight even in death.

Nonn Gower

1332-1353

Already centered on breaking her curse, worked on her spells until The Black Death came and she couldn’t turn a blind eye, made the most healing spells during this time, but quickly found out her demon could also turn people against her, and even was burned as a witch even when all the people that she saved protested.

Penrose Moore

1500-1521

Ever the beautiful young lady, was noticed by Henry the VIII, who tried to make her his lover, even if married to Catherin of Aragon at the time, but she did not yield to the British, and pronounced the words that led to her perdition: I only kneel in front the ones who fought for Wales. And the demon compelled them to kill her.

Henry the VIII passed the acts that tried to kill the welsh language.

Pre Hogwarts

And we come to Angelique, the only one born under pure magical blood, and the only one who has survived an attack from her demon, just losing a leg in return.

She didn’t want to go to Hogwarts at first, but figured she wouldn’t lose anything trying and at least would learn a thing or two, just missed a couple of years doing rehabilitation from the trauma of her leg being ripped off of her.

Personality

Open-Minded: She’s fairly liberal for a Victorian lady, with a “none of my bussiness” sort of attitude when people go outside of social norms or traditions, especially if they’re not hurting anyone.

Compassionate: She didn’t expend all this centuries becoming a highly powerful healer for nothing, she saw too many people die in the wars, and she saw a lot of people die under the plages, and she couldn’t just stay there, the love for her people has made her last so long and she’s not giving up on them.

Passionate and loyal to her values, but tired: Highly conscientious and ethical, with a strong sense of right and wrong, ever the teacher, the crusader and the advocate for change, for making things better. Only wavering on the basis of being tired of getting brutally murdered time and time again, feeling the clock ticking while her doom approaches. But even at her worse, at the end she can’t help her desire to be good, her integrity is too strong.

Secretive and reclusive – While yielding many insights into her surroundings, her surroundings are ironically considered an intrusion on her thoughts. This is especially true with people, she’s quite shy in social settings, and scared if she makes strong bonds again they will miss her soon. Even close friends struggle to get into Logicians’ hearts and minds.

Short tempered and grumpy: Maybe it’s the way she feels her time running out, but it has made her quite impatient and insensitive if she thinks someone´s wasting her valuable time, she has stuff to worry about so don’t bother her with stupid problems, even though begrudgingly she will help you.

Prideful: She’s an extremely powerful witch and she knows it, there’s very few people that can stand in her way, and she won’t let them.

#hogwarts legacy #angelique campbell #mine doodles #artbreeder #Mine writing #character profile

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thebestbooksaround · 4 years

Note

Second ask because I didn't want to post both in the same one. Hope that's okay! Do you know any rare pair fics? I read a Stiles/Danny fic and loved it and would love to read more! Possibly Stiles and Parish or Derek and Parish???

Hello! I mostly read Steter and Sterek, but I have read a couple that doesn’t feature them as the main pair.

Elemental by Copperspecks

Stargent | 20k | Teen

Chris is a man driven by guilt and desperation. Stiles is a lost, stolen child who thrums with undeniable power. Chris knows he’ll do whatever it takes to save the only family he has left, no matter what he has to do to succeed. One more sin can’t destroy an irredeemable soul.

Stained Glass Windows by KouriArashi

Petopher | 85k | Mature

Peter survives the fire and suddenly finds himself trying to raise children with only a vague notion of what he's doing, while trying to cope with his own grief and find his family's murderer. He ends up turning to Chris Argent for help, and nothing goes as expected.

'll Dissolve When The Rain Pours In, When The Nightmares Take Me by clotpolesonly

Stackson | 38k | Teen

When Stiles finally managed to contort himself the right way without causing injury, he stared at the words on his inner thigh. And then he stared some more, long enough for the water to grow cold around him, wondering if this was part of the dream. Finally he decided that it had to be real only because his subconscious was not creative enough to come up with this.

There, in freckle-brown letters stark against pale skin, was the name Jackson Whittemore.

Possible Still by rosepetals42

Skittles | 10k | Mature

Stiles gets very good at putting himself back together. He learns which cuts just need butterfly bandages and which need actual stitches and he knows to keep a needle threaded because trying to get everything ready when you're shaking from blood loss is fucking hard. (Not impossible though, he learns that too. There's not much that is impossible when you don't have any other options.)

Post 5A - Stiles may not be in the pack anymore, but that doesn't mean he's going to stop fighting.

Dude, bro by rosepetals42

Skittles Friendship | 7k | Teen

“It’s Mister Stilinski,” Stiles repeats. “That- uh. There’s a mistake. On the paperwork. It’s Mister.” That was all it was. Just a mistake on the paperwork. On the school records and his birth certificate and his social security card. On all the paperwork. But still, just a mistake. That’s what his therapists said. His cells had made a little mistake but it isn’t disgusting or wrong or sick. He isn’t a mistake. Just the papers. His body.

And I realize now that my list isn’t half as long as I thought... So if anyone has some good recs, send them our way!

Also, I am a HUGE Stetopher fan, so I don’t know if they count as rare, but they aren’t common?

Chaos is my Companion by Bunnywest

Stetopher | 16k | Mature

Stiles is plenty organized when it comes to important stuff like his work okay? It's just little things like finding his wallet, charging his phone, and keeping track of who the hell he has a date with that he has trouble with. _____________________________________________________________ Both men spot him at the same time. “Stiles?” they say in unison, and then stare at each other, looking slightly put out. “This is your date?” Peter says, a crease appearing between his brows. “Well, yeah.” (Chris, the mechanic’s name is Chris, Stiles’ mind finally supplies.) Two sets of eyes turn to him, and Stiles has a sudden sinking feeling in his gut. He remembers arranging to meet Peter, sure, but what’s Chris doing here?

Bigfoot Told Me You Were Coming by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids)

Stetopher | 25k | Teen

Peter and Chris are on the run when they stumble across Stiles' home in the woods.

The Rule of Three by DiscontentedWinter

Stetopher | 70k | Mature

In order to make their relationship legitimate in the eye of wider society, alphas Chris Argent and Peter Hale have to claim an omega. Stiles Stilinski, who should be the solution to their problems, instead turns out to be the first piece in a puzzle that some elements in society would prefer remain unsolved.

All My Stars Aligned by Green

Stetopher | 21k | Explicit

Stiles needs to find an alpha ASAP. Actually, the doctors say he really needs two. Damn biology.

Chris and Peter are two alphas in hopeless, doomed love with each other.

Also, this one is Sterek, But Derek doesn’t show up until like halfway, and we get to read the amazingness that is Cora Hale and Stiles Stilinski’s friendship.

Dirty Little Secret by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

Sterek | 91k | Explicit

“Holy shit, this is a date!” he blurted out, turning back to Derek wide-eyed. “This is a date! You intended for this to be a date, this was supposed to be a date!” He figured if he said it enough times, maybe he would believe it, but so far, no dice.

Derek was scowling again—seriously, did he want wrinkles?—but he just reached into one of the bags and pulled out a burger, checking what was written on the foil in sharpie before handing it over to Stiles.

“Of course it’s a date, what did you think this was?”

#fics i love #teen wolf #petopher #stetopher #stargent #skittles #stackson #stiles stilinski #Peter Hale #chris argent #jackson whittemore #scott mccall

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oracleofdelphl · 4 years

Text

Know Your Rights: Advice on Arrest/Police Powers During Protesting (London Edition)

Hey all, I haven’t seen a post like this advising on what to do in the event you are taken to police custody that is UK-based. so I thought I would share some tips/contact numbers/advice. In light of the upcoming #BLM protests coming up in London, I thought I would share some resources/tips on your rights and dealing with the police.

[Disclaimer: I am not a legal practitioner - this is NOT legal advice. This is all advice that I have collated from various grassroots organisations, charities, and government websites]

1. Here is a bustcard - print one out and keep it on you during the protest! Always have either this bustcard on you, or write down the contact number of a trusted solicitor and the Protest Support Line at all times. (If you are outside London, check the greenandblackcross website for a bustcard specific to your location)

Plain text version: ADVICE ON ARREST

Say “NO COMMENT” to all police questions during casual chats, ‘booking in’ & interviews. At the police station you may wish to give your name, address and date of birth to speed your release. If asked your nationality you must give it. For protection and that of other people don’t answer further questions.

Do not accept a CAUTION without advice from a recommended solicitor. This is an admission of responsibility and goes on the police national computer.

You have the right to FREE LEGAL ADVICE at the police station. Duty solicitors do not always have experience with protest law, we recommend asking the police to contact one of the following:

ITN (Irvine Thanvi Natas): 020 3909 8100 HJA (Hodge Jones & Allen): 0808 252 8678 Bindmans: 0207 833 4433 / 020 7305 5638 (out of hours) Kelly’s: 01273 674 898 / 0800 387 463 (out of hours)

You have the right to have someone informed of your arrest. (Make that the Protest Support Line unless otherwise arranged: 07946 541 511).

You have the right to an interpreter if English is not your first language. If you are or appear under 18, an appropriate adult should be called.

LEGAL QUESTIONS about PROTEST?

STOP AND SEARCH: You do not have to give your name and address under any stop and search power, see below website for more details. Legally you must be told the reason and the power that you are being searched under.

If you witness an arrest, want support or have legal questions about protest: [email protected] 07946 541 511

Legal Observers are independent volunteers who gather evidence on behalf of protestors and act to counter police intimidation and misbehaviour. Read more about your rights and protest legislation: www.greenandblackcross.org

After arrest &/or if you have a court date & want advice, email [email protected]

2. Stop and Search: Know Your Rights Linked above is the official gov.uk webpage regarding the police power to stop and search. Read it fully before a protest so you know what your rights are when asked to submit under this power.

Important: ‘stop and search’ is NOT the same as ‘stop and account.’ Under stop and search, you are well within your rights to refuse to answer and walk away!

Police Powers A police officer has powers to stop and search you if they have ‘reasonable grounds’ to suspect you’re carrying:

illegal drugs

a weapon

stolen property

something which could be used to commit a crime, such as a crowbar

You can only be stopped and searched without reasonable grounds if it has been approved by a senior police officer. This can happen if it is suspected that:

serious violence can take place

you’re carrying a weapon or used one

you’re in a specific location or area

Before you’re searched Before you’re searched the police officer must tell you:

their name and police station

what they expect to find, for example drugs

the reason they want to search you, for example if it looks like you’re hiding something

why they are legally allowed to search you

that you can have a record of the search and is this isn’t possible at the time, how you can get a copy

Removing clothing: police powers A police officer can ask you to take off your coat, jacket or gloves.

The police might ask you to take off other clothes and anything you’re wearing for religious reasons - for example a veil or turban. If they do, they must take you somewhere out of public view.

If the officer wants to remove more than a jacket and gloves they must be the same sex as you.

3. Key Messages NO COMMENT NO PERSONAL DETAILS WHAT POWER? NO DUTY SOLICITOR NO CAUTION

No comment:

You do not need to answer police questions, so don’t.

This is for your own protection and for the protection of others.

The police will try to pressure and deceive you into incriminating yourself. Instead of trying to decide when it seems ‘safe’ to answer, just say “No comment” to all questions. During ‘informal chats’ in the police van and especially in interview.

If your friend in the next cell knows you aren’t going to talk, they will feel better able not to talk themselves. Remember, interviews only help the police - they will not interview you if they already have enough evidence to charge you.

A good solicitor will sometimes suggest that you make a prepared statement in interview. In that case, you or your solicitor will read the statement and you should answer “No comment” to any more questions.

For a longer discussion, see the “NO COMMENT” booklet produced by the Legal Defence and Monitoring Group. [Their website seems to down at the moment - will update when I can get the link!]

No personal details:

You do not have to give personal details under ANY stop and search power, so don’t.

On protests, the police often use searches as a way of finding out who is present, both for intelligence purposes and to intimidate you.

Police also use arrest as a means of gathering information, particularly when they arrest a large number of people together (“mass arrest”).

As a default, you do NOT have to give your personal details to the police at any point during the arrest process. However, since 2017, if you have been arrested, the police can require to say what your nationality is and can require you to produce nationality documents, if they suspect that you are not a British citizen.

We recommend not giving personal details to the police for as long as possible – for more information on why, see the page “Do I have to give my details?”. If you have been arrested and taken to the police station you may wish to give your name, address and date of birth at the custody desk to speed your release. Police will usually check the address and may visit at a later date.

Once you reach court, you can be required to give your name, date of birth and nationality.

There are a few situations in which police may have a power to require personal details: if someone is driving a vehicle (or another licensed activity); if they are being fined under a Fixed Penalty Notice; under a particular anti-social behaviour power (which should not generally be used against protesters); or if there is a particular by-law.

What Power?:

Ask “What power?” to challenge the police to act lawfully

Some police officers rely on you not knowing the law. If you are asked to do something by a police officer, ask them what power (i.e. what law) they are using and why they are using it. Make a note of what was said, by whom (numbers) as soon as possible afterwards.

Don’t let them turn this into a situation where they ask you questions though – just walk away once you have your answer, and remember No Comment!

No Duty Solicitor:

Use a recommended solicitor with protest experience. Here is a list of trusted solicitors who are experienced at dealing with cases surrounding police and protest.

The “duty solicitor” is the solicitor who is present at the police station. They may come from any firm of solicitors, which means they almost certainly know nothing about protest.

Duty solicitors often give bad advice to protesters; we recommend you always use a good solicitor who knows about protest.

You are entitled to free legal advice inside a police station and can ask for one of the solicitors in the above list.

If you do not know which solicitor to call, contact the Protest Support Line.

No Caution:

Cautions are an admission of guilt

Offering you a caution is a way the police may ask you to admit guilt for an offence without having to charge you. It is an easy win for the police, as they don’t have to provide any evidence or convince a court of your guilt.

At the very least, you should never accept a caution without taking advice from a good solicitor.

4. Guides

For supporting yourself:

Key Advice when going on a Protest Stop and Search Being Trans and Protesting Looking after your health on actions Trauma and Emotional Support What happens if I’m Arrested? I’ve been Arrested! What Next? Should I ignore Police Bail? The Post-Charge Legal Process DBS checks and being arrested on protests Key Advice for Protesting in France Demonstrations and International Students

For supporting others:

How to give Police Station Support My Friend has been Arrested! Support for People going to Court What is a Legal Observer? Witness to an Arrest or Police Violence?

For organising an action:

Guide to Injunctions Planning an Action Protesting on Private Property

Protest Laws:

Filming and Photographs at Actions Laws Commonly Used at Protests Obstructing Workplaces: Trade Union Legislation Police Liaison Officers

Challenging the police:

Holding the Police to Account How do I find out what Information the Police hold on me? Making a Claim Against the Police Making a Complaint Against the Police What is a Judicial Review?

For more information: www.greenandblackcross.org

5. General protest advice

Look out for things that don’t seem right. Stay alert for undercover white supremacists who may be infiltrating the protest. If anything seems off to you, document it.

Follow the directions of grassroots black organisers.

Film safely - do not film anyone’s faces/anything that could identify individuals at a protest. There are other, better resources online for successful filming.

Wear unassuming clothing and face coverings.

Buddy up - write down each other’s contact details on your arm, as well as the Protest Support Line. Make sure someone is keeping an eye on you and check in on them.

Keep socially distanced - we’re still in the middle of a pandemic!

Wear masks and protective eye gear if possible.

Tie hair up.

If you can, leave your phone at home and bring a burner phone for contacting your buddy/contacts.

If you must bring your smartphone, first turn off Face/Touch ID, disable data and location services, and go on airplane mode. Also, watch this video on signal proofing your phone.

Don’t bring anything incriminating e.g. drugs, weapons (including pocket knives) - don’t give them a reason to arrest you!

Don’t wear contact lenses or jewellery

Bring water (for hydration and tear gas)

Bring snacks (thank me later)

Bring first aid supplies

STAY SAFE AND LOOK OUT FOR EACH OTHER.🖤

Safe protesting, y’all ✊🏽 #BlackLivesMatter

#if I forgot to source something please let me know!#I will update it as/when appropriate #ok to rb #please reblog and spread!#sorry if this is too London centric!#London #uk #black lives matter #blm #protest #protest advice #resources #cynthia.txt

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