#Am I doing the “parents sincerely love child in a way but are still ignorant bigots” thing right?
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toadifylackoffantasy · 2 months ago
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Chapter 32: A Winter of love
Part 15/15
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Previous Chapter weebly (More NSFW)
"Oh, you're home," Hua said to her husband a moment later. "You found the letter." She didn't want to admit that the place it had been sent from, Alpenfrühle, sounded vaguely familiar. Fortunately, Yìchén had strategically omitted any mention of magic or pointed ears when describing Florian.
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"Dear, why didn't you call right away? We're finally hearing from our son. After all those years...He's doing great! And not just any old thing - it sounds like he's marrying a fairytale princess." "....Uh, I was shocked. It's all been so long, and now all of a sudden... He's been sitting comfortably in Europe all these years? Not even hard to find, we should have tried harder... Oh, I can't wait to see him."
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"So we're going. I want to go. You want to see him. Maybe I can even convince him to come back with his family... Or is there something you need to tell me?"
"No, darling. His future wife already sounds like a beautiful woman."
Switzerland, golden hair, freckles, green eyes... She was becoming forgetful lately, but to find out why that combination sounded so eerily familiar, she was going to rack her brains for the rest of the evening.
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Notes:
It is 15,5 years ago since Hua/Finn's mom saw Florian. She obviously saw Florian back in the day and also knew the "weird boy with the two moms" was from Switzerland, and might've heard the name Alpenfrühle fall.
But, her husband doesn't. All he was ever knew is his son having, ahem, "weird taste" and being a tad too close with some other boys and refusing to go on dates with girls and being a stubborn flamboyant rebel who doesn't take life serious
They're about 60 but I still decided to make them adults instead of elders because damn the elders are ELDERS. Also Asian don't raisin or however they say that... Can I say that? Idk if I am allowed to say that
I am working those angles and a bit of heightslider to make Finn's dad look reasonably taller than his mom. Finn's about 1m79 in my head (Florian is 1m74) so I made his dad above average as well (in my head overall average is 1m72-75 ish)
Yes his dad is totally assuming "Flo" is a girl and a nickname for Florence or Florentina or Flora or something
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rosenclaws · 3 months ago
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Lost || Logan Howlett x Reader
summary: You risk your life on missions when you shouldn't. Logan can't stand it. He thinks it's because you want to play hero. It isn't until something shifts that he realizes there's more to it. That the two of you are more alike than ever.
warnings: Suicidal ideation, implied Self harm (scratching), depressive thoughts and feelings, self hatred manifesting in different ways, mostly the reader is very mean to themselves, the reader is having a mental spiral basically, poor eating, angst, injuries, hopeful ending.
wc: 3.3k
a/n: PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS! This fic contains very triggering topics and if you think that reading or being exposed to them will hurt you please DO NOT READ. I value peoples well being over this fic 1000%. If I'm being honest this was my own kind of therapy. The way I wrote the reader's thought process and feelings is a lot like my own. I've been going through it a little and I just needed to get something out. I would also like to disclaimer that I am okay! Please take care of yourself first and be gentle to yourself. If you need someone to talk to my dms and inbox are open or please consider reaching out to someone
Things worked like clockwork around here. The kid would go to class. Do their homework. Play outside. The adults would be training or teaching. Dinner was at the same time every night. Occasionally the team would get sent on a mission and even then things worked like they normally did.
Scott led the team with a plan, Logan usually ignored that plan, Ro got between them when their childish bickering got to be too much, and you all got home just fine.
"Again?" Beast is shaking his head as you hobble into the lab again. A pained smile on your face as Scott helps you onto the cold metal table. 
"What can I say beastie, I just love your company." You groan as he gently touches your side. A sharp pain shoots through your body and dark spots cloud your vision.
 "Broken ribs, definitely." He mutters as he writes something down. He asks you to follow his finger and you do your best. 
"Concussion. Again." You wince as his tone grows harsher.
 "Superficial cuts and bruises." The list goes on and on as you're examined.
"Can you just prescribe me some pain meds and let go? That's what we did last time." You ask and he just looks at you like a disappointed parent.
 "We did that last time and the time before that and the time before that. This is your third concussion and I can't even remember how many broken ribs." You feel like a child as he starts lecturing you on safety and the dangers of missions and blah blah blah.
Look you get that this isn't great but you're an X-Man right? They help people by any means even when the world seems to hate them. So you're helping people by putting yourself in harms way. Even your teammates.
 "I really don't understand why you continue to do this to yourself." Beast injects something into your arm and you flinch.
 "Fuck! A little warning next time please." You rub your arm and close your eyes as the exhaustion is starting to catch up to you. 
"No missions for at least three months." He says to Scott who you forgot was still there. 
"What!" You shoot up and double over in pain from your ribs.
 "Come on, you can't bench me for three months." You whine as you look at Scott. 
"Our top priority is that you're safe and healthy firefly." Scott says and you scoff. 
"No our top priority is helping people." He sighs and pats you on the shoulder. Great, is this another scolding? Beasts was like a parent but Scott was always more brotherly than anything.
 "Firefly, We understand the want to help but you can't help people if you keep getting hurt. You throw yourself into danger without even thinking about it." 
"So does Logan!" You protest but you know the argument is futile.
 "Logan has rapid healing factor. You don't. Look, just take the three months okay? Please? We worry about you." Scott says with such sincerity it makes you feel a little bad. 
"Okay fine." You mumble in agreement. Satisfied with your answer Scott leaves, letting Hank patch you up. You're silent as you think back to the mission.
It was dangerous. You weren't dealing with low level grunts or something. These people were deadly. They weren't going to spare anyone. Rogue and Jubilee joined the mission and as much as you loved them they weren't ready. The fight was getting messier and exhaustion was kicking in.
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jubilee and Rogue barely fighting off their attackers. Without thinking you jump in to help them. The calls to retreat came and you saw Logan come help the three of you. His claws sliced his way through. 
"Get back to the ship!" He growled as he took down yet another man. Everyone else was safe except for the four of you. 
"Go, I'll be right behind you!" You yell over your shoulder.
You put up a wall to block the bullets as you walk back. In your head you know how this plays out. You get on the ship and they shoot it down, killing you all. Or you don't make it. Or a million other ways it can go wrong. As Logan grabs Jubilee and Rouge and pulls them onto the ship he holds his hand out to you.
 "We need to go!" Without thinking you take down you start to build energy in your hands. The wall wavers as the bullets continue. 
"Quit fucking around and get in here!" Logan roars. Sorry Logan, you tend to ignore him anyways on missions. Which is how you tend to get hurt but you always end up okay. 
"I got this!" You can hear Logan's angry shouting as the plane door closes. They had no choice but to listen to you. A bullet pierces your wall and rips through your side. You let out a cry as your knee buckles. Sweat pours down your face as you gather every last bit of your energy into your hands.
 "Eat shit." You snarl as you make eye contact with who you assume was the leader.
You release the energy and it blasts through everyone and everything around you. The ship is safe due to protective measures but you aren't. The blowback slams you into the hard jet doors. A sickening crunch as your body hits the cold metal. Your vision becomes hazy as you hit the ground hard. Spots dancing in your vision as you crawl away from the jet.
Everything fucking hurt. You vaguely hear the doors opening again and the hands-on your face. Someone's talking to you but you don't register a thing they say. Which landed you back in the lab. Right now getting patched up.
"Thanks Hank." You say as you hop off the table. You decline any help getting to your room and awkwardly walk to the doors. To your surprise, Logan stands right outside of them. Arms crossed a really pissed off look on his face. 
"Logan, always a pleasure." You flash a smile and he rolls his eyes. He stalks after you as you walk slowly to the elevator. 
"Did Charles send you to check up on me or something because I'm really not in the mood." 
"What the fuck were you thinking?" He snarls. He slams his hand on a button and the elevator stops.
 "Logan I really want to go to bed." You groan as you try to push past him but to no avail. It was like a brick wall.
 "No, you're going to shut up and listen. I don't know what compels you to be so incredibly stupid but you need to fucking quit it." You shrink under his harsh words.
 "I've seen people like you before, always trying to play hero. You're reckless. Putting yourself into danger so you can be the one to save the day." You let him rip into you. Not speaking a word he slams his hand on the button and the elevator moves again.
 "Nothing to say?" He rolls his eyes and storms out of the elevator. 
"I'm sorry." You whisper to no one as the elevator doors close on you.
No one sees you for a while. You stay locked up in your room. Not even coming out for food. Every day some student brings food to your door and leaves it there. You wonder who told them to do that. Jean maybe, probably 'Ro. 
Sometimes you take it just so they don't worry but other times you leave it there until the next plate comes. You spend your day staring at the ceiling or sleeping. Sometimes though you're too tired to sleep. Does it make sense? No but it's how you feel. Logan's words replaying in your head.
If Beast and Scott were like family, Logan was something more. As much as you tried to hide it your feelings had changed, evolved from friendly into something more. You cared so much about what he thinks of you even when you don’t want to. You can’t help it. 
So his words cut deeper than anyone else's. You aren't trying to be a hero or take the glory. But maybe you are? Maybe you want that love and recognition from people, from him. Does it matter though? What your intentions were?
Apparently, you come across as an egotistical reckless person with a hero complex. It's not like that. You argue with yourself about it all the time. Shifting from hero to villain in an instant. You're selfish. You do it for attention. 
No wonder he thinks that way. Does everyone else think so too? But you care. You're an X-men but you aren't one of the X-men. You're not the one people think of when they come to save the day and you're okay with that. Your expendable. Better you than them. Right? You've hurt people in your past. You aren't worthy of this life. This family. You need to prove yourself. Sacrifice yourself if needed.
The spiral won't stop. It never. Stops. You can't get it to stop. You just want peace. Just one day where you don't wake up and feel guilt in everything you do. A loud knock on your door rings through your room but you don't move. 
"Hey." It's Logan. What is he doing here?
 "Look I uh, I shouldn't have snapped at you. The other day." You can tell he's struggling to get his thoughts out. Not that he didn't want to do it, he just didn't know how.
 "I was angry." He waits a few moments and you hear a frustrated growl. 
"Come on firefly, you've been holed up here long enough." You roll onto your side to face the door. Looking at his shoes through the small crack in the bottom. He's pacing.
 "Seriously I-er We're getting worried alright?" You don't catch the slip of his tongue. Too wrapped up feeling guilty. Again. Guilty for hurting your team, for not understanding what was wrong with you. Guilty for even feeling this way in the first place. 
"I thought you should know that Remy's making your favorite dinner." You hear him sigh and walk away. More guilt creeps up on you. You're making everyone worry about you.
 You're being selfish, just pull it together. Beating yourself up over and over again. As the sun goes down the smell of dinner wafts through your room. It doesn't normally do that so you suspect someone is trying to lure you out. Enough of this.
You get up and change your clothes. You stop and look in the mirror, trying to put on your best smile. You don't look very convincing but it should be fine. Peeking your head out you hear a lot of voices coming from the kitchen. You quietly walk into the doorway.
It takes a second but someone notices you and then everyone does. The talking dies down as they just stare at you. It's really uncomfortable. You feel terrible for making them worry. You don't deserve to be worried about like this.
 "All this for me?" You joke and thankfully the room grows louder again.
You say hi to some of the people who come up to you. A plate is placed in front of you and you graciously accept it. Looking across the room you can see Logan staring at you. He's silent but watching your every move. 
"So how's recovery coming? You've been taking bed rest pretty seriously." Scott says with a smile.
You know he doesn't mean anything by it but for some reason, it stings. Like you've been lazy or something. You're a mutant. Recovery shouldn't take this long. You're not putting in the work. You're wasting your time. You don't get to rest. 
"Hey? Firefly?" You snap out of it and put on a smile.
 "Going great, it's nice being able to sleep without interruption." People seem to accept that answer and the conversation moves on.
You pick at your food, moving it around your plate and chopping it up but never putting it in your mouth. It's your favorite meal but you just, can't bring yourself to eat it right now.
The room is so full of talking and laughter but for some reason, you feel a million years away. Like you're lonely. Really, really lonely. How can that even be? To feel so alone while being surrounded by so many people. 
As dinner wraps up you quietly slip out. Sneaking out to the gardens instead. It's cold and you have no coat but you don't care. Some fresh air is what you need. Maybe the trees can tell you what's wrong with you. You find a small bench and sit down.
The stars shine so nicely tonight. You wonder what it'd be like to be a star. If it's freeing to be up so high. Or is it lonely? To lack the warmth of the sun and be a million light years away from each other. 
"What are you doing out here?" Logan stands in front of you. You hadn't even noticed him. 
"Nothing." He lights a cigar and takes a seat next to you. His legs spread out, knocking his knees into yours. 
"So you wanna tell me what's going on?" 
"What are you talking about?" You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to hide away. 
"You may have fooled everyone else but I know somethings going on in that head of yours." You just shrug. 
"I'm fine."
"Bullshit." Logan scoffs. You watch the soft glow of cigar ash tumble to the ground.
The light dies out as it hits the cold cement. He wants to help, or at least he wants to listen. For some reason, you can't get the words you. Anger replaces any rational thought. You want him to leave, to not care so damn much.
"Why do you even care? Last time I checked you don't do these heart to hearts." You snap.
The cold air bites your face and you shiver. Your nails scratch down your arms harshly. The slight stinging soothes you in some fucked up way. Logan notices and grabs onto your hand. Taking it and holding it in his warm one. 
"Just leave me alone Logan." You try taking your hand away but he won't let you.
"No. You're right I don't do the sappy shit but this is different. It's more than you're letting on." You feel a pit forming in your stomach.
Everything in your body screams for you to run. To hide and put up your walls and ignore this ever happened. But then you look into his pretty hazel eyes. The rough and tough Wolverine was silently begging you to stay. To talk to him. 
"I don't try to be a hero, It's not a hero complex, or a savior complex or whatever you want to call it." His thumb rubs over your hand as you talk. He wants to butt in but he lets you talk.
 "I don't know. It's a lot. What goes on in my head." You start to count the blades of grass that you can see. Anything to keep you from breaking down. 
"I don't care if I get hurt if I'm helping people. I just. It's how I help. My life is worth saving people. Saving you guys. I don't care if..." You trail off. You can't get the words right.
 "You don't care if you die." Logan finishes. He swallows harshly. It breaks his heart to hear but that small part of him understands. More than you’ll ever know. 
 "Kind of. It's complicated alright? I'm not actively trying to die but...Look I don't think I deserve this life sometimes. I've caused a lot of hurt and I've lost so many people." Logan reaches up and wipes away a tear.
There's a lot of pain that sits with a lifetime of trauma. Pain that you've chosen to ignore over and over again. Burying it until you've convinced yourself this is what life is like. What you deserve. 
"It's stupid right? There's so much that I should be grateful for. What right do I have to complain about?"
 "You're a mutant, your life hasn't been easy." 
"Yeah I guess." Logan doesn't let go of your hand. He holds it, squeezes it. Its warm and fits perfectly with yours. 
"Life sucks, a lot. Trust me I understand. It's like the days blend together right? There's this massive hole that just seems to get bigger. You can stuff it with things, try and close it up or even pretend it never exists. But it never goes away." Logan says.
He understands because he feels the same way. Maybe not exactly how you feel but he knows what its like. To have this, hatred for yourself grow and fester until you can't breathe. You convince yourself that nothings going to change so why even bother? 
"I just want it to go away." You whisper sadly. 
"It will, we're tough. We survive."
"What if I'm tired of surviving? What if I don't want to be strong anymore?" You confess. You feel like you have to be strong all the time and it weighs you down like bricks. You're drowning. 
"That's okay, you come to me and I'll carry what you can't." He pulls you in closer and you bury your face in his neck. He's warm, protecting you from the chill.
 "Just please, promise me no more heroics on missions okay?" He mumbles. 
You scared the shit out of him. You were bleeding and in so much pain. You couldn't even register that it was his hands on your face. That he carried you to the jet and held you while you went in and out of consciousness. He stayed by your side until you got back. He disappeared to the background as Scott took you to the lab. His worry and fear of losing you turning to anger. Wondering why you continue to put yourself in danger.
 "Okay." You lean in and press a light kiss to his cheek.
"Logan, Can I ask why you're out here? How did you even notice something was wrong?" It's not that you weren't friends, in fact you were closer than most. But Logan isn't really the best with this kind of thing. Yet somehow, he always knows what to say.
"You mean a lot to me firefly..."
He could tell you that he loves you right here and now. Tell you that you're everything to him. How he's fallen in love with you over the years. But he keeps it inside. It's not the right time. Sometimes love isn't enough to get better and he knows that there's work to be done. He doesn't want to put this pressure on you to get better for him. He wants you to get better for yourself. He'll be by your side for the whole thing though. He won't let you spiral as long as he's there. 
"You mean a lot to me too Logan." You smile, a real one this time. He caresses your face, tilting your head as his lips kiss your forehead. You giggle as beard tickles your skin.
 "There's that sweet sound," He hums. He takes off his jacket and places it on your shoulders. The worn leather smells like him.
 "You really think things get better?" You ask as you link your hand with his. He doesn't answer right away. He'd be a hypocrite to preach that everything's fine and dandy all the time. Sometimes he doesn't believe it himself. But he keeps going, every day. Just as you do. 
"Yeah I do, I don't know when. But someday it will." You nod and rest your head on his shoulder. It might take a long time until you truly feel better but you can keep going. Waking up and living.
With a hope, no a belief, that someday. It will get better. 
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aphroditelovesu · 5 months ago
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Can I request yandere Other Mother platonic headcanons? ❤️
❝ 🕸 — lady l: I remember I used to be scared of the Other Mother when I was a kid lmao. Hope you like it and I'm sorry for any mistakes! ❤️
❝tw: technically kidnapping, manipulation, obsessive behavior and possible soul theft (?).
❝🕸pairing: platonic yandere!other mother/beldam x gender neutral!child reader.
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The Beldam quickly became attached to you, though she tried to deny it at first. The Other Mother had shown obsessive behavior early on, albeit in a more subtle way but still present. She had spent so many years alone and starving for Coraline that the Beldam, though an ancient being and devoid of certain emotions, found herself yearning for companionship and food. She wanted a child to love and, ultimately, steal their soul. That was her original plan when you first moved into the Pink Palace, until she met you.
You were like a breath of fresh air to her: a naive child she could manipulate and eventually steal your soul from. The Beldam initially only wanted to lure you in and feed off of you, but the Other Mother found herself liking you and your company, and her plans to steal your soul were shelved. How could she steal your soul if she loved you so much?
Beldam soon found herself luring you into her web, with treats, gifts, and anything you could possibly want and desire, while at the same time manipulating your parents into neglecting and ignoring you so that you would be completely dependent on her.
With her, you will feel welcomed and understood, appreciated and deeply loved. Beldam wants you to be happy with her, to be her child forever, and so I see her wanting you to let her sew the buttons on your eyes, because that way, you would be stuck in your child form forever. Wouldn't that be amazing?
She is extremely manipulative and will do anything to make you want to live with her in the Other World voluntarily. Beldam will try to be as kind as possible, gentle and spoil you beyond measure. Eventually, the Other Mother will suggest putting the buttons in your eyes, but she will respect your choice if you say no at first.
Beldam is a very loving mother, always wanting to hug you and shower you with kisses. The Other Mother will cook whatever you desire and will fulfill any wishes you may have, although it is all just an illusion. There is no doubt that you will feel safe with her, loved and adored.
You will be living with her in the Other World permanently, regardless of whether you let her sew the buttons on you or not, there is no way she will let you return to your old life. Why would you hurt your own mother like that? You have everything you want with her, with a mother who truly loves you, so why go back?
She knows exactly what to say to dispel your doubts, and every time you express a desire to return to your original world, she responds with a mixture of calculated sadness and disappointment. "Why do you want to go back to that cold, uncaring place?" She whispers, her eyes filled with a pain that almost seems genuine. "Here, you have everything you want. I am your real mother, the one who will always take care of you. Your real parents never cared as much as I did."
Despite all her care, there are times when the Other Mother reveals brief glimpses of her true nature. When you frustrate her or try to defy her rules, her body is tense, and her sweetness evaporates for a moment. These glimpses, which require a little more attention, can be enough to make you question the sincerity of her love. However, before you can think too much about it, she returns to being the perfect mother, enveloping you with more promises of comfort and happiness.
Beldam is quite possessive of you. She wants to be the center of your world, for you to love only her and trust her completely, after all, she is your mother. The Other Mother is not jealous because there are only the two of you in the Other World, but she is possessive and wants you only for herself. Mother and child should never be separated, right? To her, the relationship between mother and child is sacred and unbreakable. In the Other World, she makes sure that you depend completely on her. There is no room for other influences, other people or even strong memories from your previous life.
She will punish you at times, like putting you behind a mirror and isolating you until you beg her for forgiveness, but in the end, Beldam will always pamper you and make sure that you are cultivating your love and devotion to her. And you will listen, right? Mother always knows best.
The Other Mother tries to be good to you in her own way, but her web of manipulation will only grow tighter and tighter and soon you won't remember who you used to be before you met her, everything will be forgotten and you will only remember her, your only mother. All the effort will be worth it in the end when you let her sew the buttons on your eyes and in that way, you will be stuck with her forever.
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kaylapocalypse · 23 days ago
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Hi Kayla!! We've buddy-read your books Icarus and The Wicker King and absolutely loved them. We've recently been working our way through The Weight of the Stars, but there has been a question that has plagued our every waking moment: where exactly is Rina Medina (and by extension Ahmed) from?
We tried to determine if it was more likely for Rina to be Indian or Pakistani based off of her surname, but according to our very thorough research (googling) it turns out that Medina is a surprisingly popular name in Spanish cultures—which seems to explain why, despite being Indian, neither of us have encountered the name before. We've also found that the name Rina, despite having a Sanskrit origin, also has Japanese roots—an interesting bit of trivia, but ultimately useless in our feverish quest for determining her origins. We've thought that Ahmed might be Muslim, given his name, but that's a bit of a moot point considering the fact that he wears a turban and is mentioned to be Sikh in The Weight of the Stars. There also arose the theory that Rina has Muslim heritage, but that Ahmed converted to Sikhism later on, thus explaining the unusual name-religion combo. We've driven ourselves quite mad trying to figure this out, which is why we're asking you here instead: WHERE IS SHE FROM, KAYLA?
Sincerely, Two Buddies Who Have Spent a Concerning Amount of Time Pacing Around Like the Charlie Day Conspiracy Meme Trying to Figure Out the Logistics of Ahmed Having a Muslim Name while Being Sikh
Slight disclaimer that I wrote this book over a decade ago when I myself was just finishing being a child. I think if I wrote TWK today, I probably would have been more explicit, and not sacrificed ✨potential for representational detail✨ to serve August’s chaotic unreliable narrator limited perspective.
But, I do have a HC for this. As you’ve noticed, Rina is a very young adult, slightly too young to be living alone and there is no discussion about her parents much at all.
In my HC for Rina, she is half Pakistani on her mother’s side and had a falling out with her parents that lead to them being no contact. Which is why she lives alone in a horrible apartment with very little money and lots of determination. Ahmed has a Muslim name because of Rina’s background.
But Ahmed is a Sikh because he chose that for himself and it’s a path that he is still undertaking (he’s very young! He’s not done!) . I wanted that for him because I believe that Rina/August/Jack and the complicated relationships they have with their parents would lead to a specific kind of parenting style: one that prioritized exploration, dedication and a goodness based on kindness. Also, that it’s not unreasonable that a kid growing up in a kind of ‘libertine anything goes’ household might seek out discipline (which is kind of its own teenage rebellion, in a fun way). In Ahmed’s case, through religion.
As for Ahmed’s weed usage (via second hand smoke) I asked a Sikh acquaintance about it during my initial plotting of the book, and he said that he liked it because it showed that Ahmed was in a phase of development. That it’s not that he smokes himself (discouraged) or that he’s a paragon of goodness (which my friend said felt stereotypical) , but that he’s presented as being in flux and striving for change. Especially considering he’s so young.
but again, this is what 19 year old Kayla was thinking when I was writing TWK, then what 24 year old Kayla was thinking during TWOTS.
But I am currently 33 and if I was writing it today I would know that while all of the stuff above makes sense and is kind of tender, all readers got was a series of confusing facts that could be anything from willfull ignorance to just sloppy editing/naming convention. I probably would have either written two or three chapters going into detail or simplified the representation considerably.
anyway I hope this helped!
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kitpanthera · 5 months ago
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chapters 11-13 🎉
again, no pressure to answer any/all of them! thanks sm!!
but first, a visual representation of me for the past two days:
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1. bill telling dipper to put the journal away because he can answer dipper's questions ! really trying to drive that wedge in now huh. wondering what the plan would've been if he didn't end up bringing dipper in so much? like, what he would've done if they didn't have their more intense and sincere bonding sessions later when dipper basically swears to stand by him no matter what. would have have still had dipper try to bond with ford or try to keep him out of the equation?
2. dipper not even caring that he almost got mauled by a wolf ! child, what are you doing ! also, is there a particular reason it got changed from the canon panther to a wolf?
3. i wonder what the alternate universe where mabel decides to fully trust dipper and bill after the situation with gideon looks like right now...
4. did mabel overhearing dipper's conversation with bill change her feelings about bill? or would she always have reverted back to being anti-bill?
5. "despite knowing she wouldn't have a clue who he really was" dipper, maybe dig a little deeper into that sentence. feels like it goes beyond the costume, buddy.
6. "are you really showing your birthmark?" is mabel upset because she's worried he's going to get picked on or that this is another sign of how close he is to bill? or are their parents the ones that wanted him to hide the birthmark (since it's "freaky," as wendy says) and she's picked up on that?
7. did the trickster actually sense dipper's magic or did he really feel bill?
8. dipper not caring about bill burning his universe to the ground,,, time for more self-reflection?
9. i love that you called out how weird the shirtless werewolf thing is. especially since stan knows how insecure dipper is!
10. with dreamscapes not happening the way it does in canon, dipper never finds out that this is all a (misguided) attempt from stan to help him. of course, it really just shows the double standards he has between mabel and dipper. do you think that's because of a gender thing or that he thinks dipper is too much like ford?
11. is blue really dipper's natural magic color or bill lying again?
12. bill driving a further wedge between dipper and everyone else by being the only safe place he can express himself and dipper told him he was the only one he felt seen by 😐 i feel totally normal about this 😐
13. what songs do you think bill is singing to dipper (i love this sm)?
14. not me sending the previous question about bill not being with the henchmaniacs when the answer is literally in ch 13. is it just that it's harder for him to focus more on stuff when he's in two places at once? so for big things (like his fight with ford in the nightmare realm), he's only in one place? (feel free to ignore if you address it in my other ask!)
thanks!
Shdgbkjcjk I am so honored, sincerely, that you are this obsessed with my fic, I'm so glad you're enjoying it this much aaaaaa
1. In that case, I think he would try to keep Ford more distant, while trying to draw him in himself on his own time. He'd be too dangerous to keep around a Dipper he wasn't certain would be loyal.
2. He trusts that he's protected. :) Why a wolf? Symbolism, my friend, symbolism!
3. Weirdmageddon is a lot more brightly colored. And glittery. Also, their parents... well.
4. Hearing them talking and hearing that the costume was actually supposed to be Bill reminded her how deep he was in it and sent her in the anti-Bill direction again. More on this is the novella!
5. It sure does!
6. It's all about Bill. He's changing her brother, and even if it seems to be positive progress, it scares her. Still more on this in the novella!
7. That is the question to be asked! Who knows? :)
8. Like myself at his age, he's way too dismissive of things that should be concerning, and way too emotionally intelligent for someone so young. To him, it's something Bill probably doesn't want to actually talk about in depth.
9. Yes!! I thought this was so weird and kind of creepy in canon? Especially given him being shirtless? No one is safe, I'm calling out canon!
10. Stan has some gender stuff he's never worked through. On one hand, there's the antiquated idea that men must be strong, both physically and mentally, at all times, which he holds himself to. He sees Dipper's weakness and he sees Ford, someone who had trouble defending himself as a child. Stan knows for himself that boxing and self defense really toughened him up, helped him defend himself when he had his back against the wall. Ford never properly learned those, and he didn't have the fortitude Stan had, and look where it got him, right? So Stan thinks in order to help save Dipper from becoming Ford, he should make him more like himself, able to survive in any environment life throws him into.
11. It's his natural color! His aura is sort of a murky royal blue color, and the color of your magic reflects the color of your aura in my AU.
12. :)
13. So everything he sings is very gentle since he's singing him to sleep, so imagine these songs as soft and sweetly sung, sweet as honey:
Dreamcatcher by Set It Off
Blackbird by The Beatles
Speed of Sound by Coldplay
Arsonist's Lullaby by Hozier
14. Yeah, pretty much! He's not omnipresent or anything, but it's hard for him to split his attention between two realms perfectly the way he has to sometimes.
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ofmermaidstories · 7 months ago
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Hey Mermaid 🩷💜
It's me Lady, it's been a while. ;) I hope you're doing amazing! Having beautiful days and peaceful evenings, sleeping well, and staying hydrated💌💟
I hope you don't mind if this message feels too personal, and if it bothers you, please do ignore it.
I don't know if you've seen anything about the final chapter yet. And I, of course, do not want to spoil.
And I do sincerely hope you see the official chapter before this, so that my words makes sense. I guess I just want to say I'm feeling very overwhelmed about MHA ending, it's the most precious show to me . And especially Izuku's conclusion and how Horikoshi went about it. Again, I won't spoil of course but I guess I'm a bit disappointed.
I don't know, but something in me wanted your opinion and thoughts on the ending and Izuku's story's conclusion. Since, through reading your In another Life series fanfictions, I felt more connected to my favs (Izuku and Katsuki). Your writing gave me a new way of looking at their dynamic, story, and what a future for them entails with everything that they are and aren't.
I was actually avoiding the leaks because I wanted to at least read the official chapter when it's out since it is the last. So that I can honor it on a way. But one thing led to another by a simple scroll through tiktok.
Anyways, when I saw the panels I guess I thought "I would like to write him a hundred other happy endings". I say "other" because he's clearly happy in the conclusion, even with everything that happened (OFA and Tenko's conclusion mostly). But still, the thought came up.
And then I actually remembered your drabble of Izuku and his child, the "he will be your husband's biggest heartache" one, and I don't know, I guess I really wanted to ask you.
Thank you for staying with me. I hope you have a day filled with happy wishes. 🎀💌
Hi Mermaid 💌
It's me Lady, I half-hope you see this ask before my other previous one that I sent. This one might be long too, so sorry in advance. And thank you for taking the time♥️.
It has been plaguing my mind. I was really emotional about the ending and had alot to get off my chest, I ended up writing all that to you. I feel so embarrassed, and I could have worded it better.
I really just want to clear out a few things 😅. If you don't mind. I am not the kind of fan to put dirt on the author her/himself no matter how unsatisfied I am with a part of their story. I hope I didn't imply that in my previous ask about the ending and Izuku's conclusion (I barely remember much of what I said 😭)
Secondly, while 8 years is a huge gap, getting to see pro-hero class A was so surreal, in a "proud parent" way 🥹. I think I implied I wanted ur thoughts on the could-be-considered unsatisfactory parts of the ending. But I actually meant as a whole. Eri grown up also had me so proud and happy! She deserves to live a normal teenager girl life 🩷.
Bonus points pro hero Bakugou looking gorgeous as always 🤭. Kind of fills the picture for me now whenever | read pro-hero au fanfiction.
And the way he paid the most out of the class A alumni for Izuku to have a hero suit so that he could he a hero, and they could compete with one another again is so sweet.
But again, to make my point clear. I would love to hear your thoughts personally on everything that the ending, please.
I hope you have a wonderful day 🎀💟
Lady! Lilium. Lady Lilium. 🥹 Hi!!! Please don’t feel embarrassed!!! 🥺 Your asks actually let me feel relieved, lmao, because it meant I wasn’t alone in the… idk! topsy turvy feelies that the leaks had caused. 🥹 If there’s one thing I won’t miss it’s the entitlement that causes leaks to breach containment and ruin everyone else’s day. 💀 But!! Lili, how are you feeling on the other side of the official release??? For me personally it was like… a sense of relief, lmfao, like no matter my nitpicks about things (I do think the epilogue in general was rushed, and i’m kinda like 💀💀💀 over class a’s decision not to tell their friend about their goal to fund his iron man suit, lmao. there’s surprises and then there’s making life-altering decisions for someone LOL) i think the ending is sweet. 🥹 The last page does a lot of heavy lifting, emotionally, for me, and i’m wondering if it’s the same for you and others?
An account I follow on twitter said something about how as a reader they weren’t really happy with the ending, but they could see why fic writers would be, because everything’s so open-ended and it kinda startled me, because of how immediately i agreed? LOL. like, i like the ending for the same reason i’ve liked the series: it is open-ended, there’s enough world building that you can build on top of it, as a fic writer, and work with the lore Hori like, hints throughout it. But as a reader I could see how someone could be unsatisfied. We rush through the group’s remaining years at UA. The Billboard rankings are still a thing, despite Hawk’s grand speech in making an effort to include non-traditional heroes. Hero commercialism is still running rampant and if anything, the pro hero world sounds like it’s gotten more enclosed and harder to be apart of? Whichhhh I guess you could argue it should’ve always been that way—they are extreme first defenders in a lot of respects so sure, you need the best of the best—but idk. I keep thinking about the league, lmao, and all that change they carried on about wanting—and what they got was most of them killed in action and also no change LMAOO. No, wait, Shoji ends mutant racism and Ochako compels more Quirk counselling 🥹 (I’m not mad at that, I think it’s touching they both end up spearheading movement/efforts for ending discrimination/encourage understanding, it’s just… those are a big fights, you know? Big undertakings 🥺).
Idk idk idk. I’m trying to think of something that I, as a reader and not a fanfic writer, am unsatisfied with and I guess… I’m not unsatisfied with the ending moreso than I am with my biggest and most constant complaint: that Hori’s a coward who’s cowardice undermines his emotional beats LMAOOO. I think he’s a coward for letting Edgeshot live. I think he’s a coward for not confirming a ship—like, any of them. He’s a coward for not daring to imagine significant change in the pro hero system. But even with those criticisms, I still enjoy the series, and love it for what it is. 🥺
My original reaction to the final chapter leaks, tbh, was like—to get the ick LMFAOOOOOO. i was like, what is this. what have u DONE TO MY BOYYY. idk it gave me the ick for both deku and bakugou and i can’t really explain why??? now that we have the official chapter out, i think it was definitely a deadly combo of like—fandom making up their own minds about things and running it into the ground within the space of hours. 💀 that’s on me, i should’ve gone underground, i knew this fandom would skirt close to ruining the entire series for me like the clowns in the clown car they are. but this is why i was so relieved to get your asks, Lili!!! 🥺 Because it was like, omg, it’s not just me, like, we’re processing what we know about it together. 🥺 eight years!!!! i feel the same—like a proud parent. 🥹 The montage panels showing us the bits and pieces of everyone—Eri deserves to live her best high school musician life!!! 😭 But all of them, all of them made me emotional in some way. Aizawa and Mic visiting Oboro’s grave. 🥺 mirko with her insane prosthetics. 💀 love her. Endeavour losing his family, but being surrounded by the heroes from his agency. 🥺 Izuku seeing Shigaraki, at the end. So much of it was bittersweet, or satisfying to see in action. The kids competing in the sports festival!! Bakugou being cheerled as he rehabs his arm!!! Izuku, smiling, as he holds the last embers of OFA. That part actually devastates me lmfao. I love that MHA like—shows that anyone can be a hero, that the thing that makes one is the compulsion to help others first, and that now there’s like, accessibility, but… idk. I wanted him and OFA to stay together forever. 🥹 But maybe this is for the best… now the past users really are at rest, and Izuku can be a hero on his own strength.
I love that Class A worked together to fund the suit. I know the “Bakugou paid more” thing was popular, in the wake of the leaks, and I could see him funnelling more into it but one of the things I hated the most with the leaks/that gave me the biggest ick (lmao) was how everyone was turning it into a shipping thing, and not an incredible statement on just how much Class A love each other, and love Deku. 🥺 All Might mentions in his fight with AFO, with his own hero suit, that it took his life’s savings—so for them to be able to fund Izuku’s with only, what, six years of pro hero salary? That’s an incredible group effort. And they did it because they love him!!!! 😭 Because he worked hard and deserved it and they all knew it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Because the golden generation doesn’t leave anyone behind!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i love them, i’m obsessed with their pro hero designs, concerned about the potential rat tails bakugou has tho and i don’t want to talk about the facial hair that sero and mineta have, lmfao. Shinsou, however, can absolutely get it. 😎
idkkkkkkk lili—what do you think, now? Overall i’m still emotional about it, lmao. i think the endgame had weak spots and that hori has strengths and weaknesses (like we all do) as a storyteller—but that he delivered. 🥹 i think ultimately he did what he promised us he’d do: told us the story of how they became the greatest heroes.
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burn1ngbutterfly · 11 months ago
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— III — 
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Synopsis — the way a demigod’s life goes without the camp half blood experience, while the pull of the ichor and the domain of the parent stays ingrained.
Contents — gn!reader. Obscure descriptions of the godly parent. 
The fates are cruel.
You find the truth out gradually, never certain, the nagging feeling gnawing at the back of your head.
Father, why am your only human child?
A question that blows in your mind like a kite, brightly coloured and flashing, twisting and turning under the gusts of your thoughts.
Father, why do you ignore me?
You hug yourself closer, feeling cold without any apparent reason. The old, battered stuffed bird toy lies discarded in the tiny apartment you visit once in a while, too busy with your grown up, not exactly safe, life. 
You start small. 
An air host.
You feel more alive in the air, the take off and landing creating equally bright fireworks of happiness.
Sometimes you wish you could fly without the support of the dangerous machines, ones that go down if one tiny thing goes wrong. 
You still risk it. 
The feeling is exhilarating, the same as when you jumped off trees as a child to get a taste of your father’s domain.
Being a demigod tied to the air without the power to fly is cruel.
You went further. 
Your father heard you painfully-sincere prayers, your begging to be closer to the domain the ichor in your blood so desperately craves. 
You found solace in the flying courses you got enrolled by a mere miracle, nothing less.
Your mind is blown out by all the winds of world, their touches a caress and comfort. 
They know you desperately crave what they have since birth.
You smile looking at the birds which fly freely. Sometimes you wish that you were able to do the same. Most of the time you know what you hope you will become when you die. 
The curse lain on you burns in an ice-cold mark, because children are not blamed fro their parents actions and yet they are the ones to pay for their mistakes. 
You fell in love with my mother. What kind of person was she to take the interest of the one who never looked at mortals?
The air currents protect you, unnoticed, blowing away any danger, or blowing in the direction you should go. 
You do not notice this. You do not know what your father looks like. 
I became a spirit, father. As I wished I would be. I became a spirit and now all that I have gotten from you may go down in flames. I know why they hate the gods. I would have followed them have you not answered my prayer.
You smile, not visible in the winds, their wings caressing yours. 
You are finally in the domain your soul craved, you ichor infused body no longer containing the freeness of your spirit. 
The fates are cruel, but perhaps the gold mixed into your blood was crueler. 
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uss-copperright · 2 years ago
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Teaser
So I set the poll to run for a week, so obviously I don’t have the final results yet. However, inspiration struck shortly after that poll released and I came up with an idea for a story that I think would be really cute.
Below is a teaser for a story that, for the time being, I have titled The Niece. (I know I’m terrible at titles. I’m still working on that bit.) I wrote this pretty quickly, but I am proud of how it turned out. It is told from Reginald’s perspective, in case that is unclear.
I was hoping I would be able to utilize asks as a method for storytelling with this, but in order for that to work I would need people to send in asks. Don’t get me wrong, I can create a couple of plot-centric posts without prompting, but I think that this would be especially fun if audience participation was part of it.
And look, I know that the THSC fandom is mostly dead now. I know it’s been years since the last game released. Still, I wanted to at least try something like this to see if people might enjoy it. If this is something that you want to see more of, please like and/or comment on this post. I know from trying something kind of similar in the past that it is hard to stay motivated on a project like this if it doesn’t seem like people care.
In all honesty, I really hope this post does well. As some extra incentive, here are some of the things I am planning to include:
Exploration of the Copperright dynamic
Two bumbling but sincere men struggling with a new challenge
Angst, but not enough that the story becomes overwhelmingly sad
Possible cameos of other THSC characters, especially other Toppats
The honeymoon phase of a relationship
Flashbacks where a gay man is crushing on a “straight” man, and the latter turns out to not be straight at all.
When I first got the message, it was around 4:00 on a Thursday. It was a day like most others, or at least it had been until that fateful moment that the email was delivered to my public mailbox. The subject line was general enough: Urgent News for Mr. Copperbottom. I wanted to ignore it, but I couldn’t help but notice that the email address the message was coming from was associated with a hospital near the town where I grew up. Against my better judgment, I opened the message.
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I had to reread the message three times to understand what it was saying. Rory— Aurora— was… dead? And her daughter needed a parent. God, that poor kid. I decided right then and there that I was not going to let Autumn go to foster care. I would figure something out. I just had to find a way to cover up my… record on the adoption papers. I didn’t have any clue how I could find the time to raise a child on top of my heavy workload, but I would cross that bridge when I came to it. Right now, I just had to find a way to help my niece.
What do you think? I’m really excited about this project, but I would love feedback on this teaser. If you would be at all interested ins Ewing where this goes, like the post or otherwise interact with it to demonstrate that to me. Thanks!
A poll for the sake of getting people to interact:
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ruki--mukami · 3 years ago
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hi admin and ruki! i love your blog and how you interact with so many people!! i hope to join one day too but for now im curious about something.. i read you were here for almost a year and thats awesome! i hope this is not too intrusive but is there any oc that has been around since the beginning and is still having interactions with ruki? i saw many ocs here but im curious about who has been here the longest so far! what are rukis thoughts on them after all this time?
btw feel free to ignore if its weird or if it goes against any rule! have a good day!
"Greetings, Livestock. Indeed, I have met and interacted with many people in my time, but that doesn't necessarily mean I am opposed to newcomers. I'd be delighted to sink my fangs into you as well, so don't be shy with your master. Come and seek me out when the opportunity presents itself... I patiently await you."
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🧩 So basically what Ruki was trying to tell you is that there's always room for more people to interact, ahaha. I try to keep up my interactions with everyone even if the number only increases from here, so I sincerely thank you for your kind words, dear Anon! Forging a safe place for everyone to interact with Ruki on this blog is one of my greatest pleasures in life and I hope to continue for many years in the future, or for as long as my creativity will permit me to do so. But do take your time if you are still hesitant or working on your OC as of now, and there is no need to be in a hurry. Whenever you decide to interact off anonymous, I'll be welcoming you with open arms!
Regarding the OCs who have been here since around the beginning and stayed for this long, I would like to thank each and every one of them including their wonderful admins who I also happen to be close friends with. There are three who come to mind and I will list them in order of who interacted with me first.
1. @kauzebridgerton — Kauze Bridgerton, in his child form. He is a Founder who lost both his parents, which is why Ruki has such a soft spot for him. After what he experienced in his own youth, he doesn't want Kauze to go through the same hardships as he once did.
2. @kindan-no-kanojo — Scarlett Wakahisa, a musically gifted Ghoul. Without spoiling more than I should, obviously she was once a human who has turned into a Ghoul under mysterious circumstances (looking at the typical DL antagonist here) who not only knows her way around a piano, but is also very dominant in personality despite Ghouls being indentured to Vampires in the DL universe.
3. @iricathel — Irina Avenel, princess of the Owl clan. The Owl clan is actually a clan that Admin Lina made herself, so one could say it is the hidden 'fifth clan' in this AU. Behind a pretty face lies a woman who suffered many hardships in the royal upbringing of her family, mostly seen as a political tool by her father who is currently the king, yet she will one day rise and show what she is capable of despite the seemingly innocent idol occupation and the mundane side of life. 🧩
✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧
"Ah, Kauze... It's been almost a year since we met. Even now I can hardly believe that I would look after a young child like him, but I don't regret a single second of it. If he can live a safe and prosperous life at my side, under my guidance, then I will rise to the occasion. I've never once raised children, so I can't say I know what parenthood entails in its entirety, but surely I can keep the boy out of harm's way—which is more than satisfactory for me, all things considered. He performs so well in his academic obligations and is a generally kind-hearted boy whenever I teach him new concepts and ideas, childish antics aside of course. Ultimately, I love him as a father does his son."
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"Scarlett and I have many issues to sort through that extend beyond the typical Vampire and Ghoul plights as seen in the demon realm. By now, her hatred for me is very much understandable, even I can admit. Not only did I confine her against her will, but I assaulted her and took her blood on many occasions. Obviously she would despite my guts after an ordeal like that, which is why I eventually set her free. I only know a glimpse of what she has suffered at the hands of others, but I could tell the dungeon atmosphere quickly brought her back to memories that are better left forgotten and never forgiven. As much as we clash with each other, I wish to make amends someday."
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"Marriage—truly, a holy covenant. How odd and unbecoming of a Vampire such as myself. All this time, I never once saw myself attaining true happiness in its most sophisticated form. Love has always been a dead concept for me. Feigned, ingenuine, and riddled with ulterior motives. Yet it was Irina who taught me that is most certainly not the case. We often fight... And we frequently endear one another. There is no one else I'd rather spend the rest of my days with. It goes beyond for better, for worse, in sickness and in health. No, I will continue to support Irina with all that I am. As her lover, her future husband, as her eternal partner in this life I will never forsake her the way others have in the past. Together we shall pave the path to glory."
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toadifylackoffantasy · 2 months ago
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Chapter 32: A Winter of love
Part 14/15
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In the present, his mother had reached his old room again. She swallowed as she entered it. She had left everything as it was before. She didn’t dare change anything. The only thing that had changed was the layer of dust.
What a unique taste he had. One that she hadn’t approved of, but if she hadn’t even let him pick out the ridiculous furniture and wear the weird clothes, she would never have heard the end of it.
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Her strange, but sweet boy... He may have had strange tendencies, but he would grow out of them, she always thought... But he was also brave and daring... So incredibly daring... Given the right circumstances, he could have conquered the world, but he used that daringness to run away... Why hadn't she given him a hug the last time she saw him? Why another fight? She had wanted to do everything she could to help him live a successful, honorable life, and suddenly he was... Gone. No chance to make it right.
She sat on her son’s old bed and sat there for a while, sobbing and regretting her choices. If she had, then maybe, if that…But… Be positive. He’s fine, he’s getting married.
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Her husband was home by now. He’d found the letter in the living room, with a few drops of dried tears on it. The letter itself was beautiful—everything he’d ever hoped for, though he would have preferred a Chinese daughter-in-law, but Yìchén always had a special taste. But it quickly turned into a ball of paper.
He was furious. At himself, for giving up the search. At his son, for not contacting them sooner when he was just sitting comfortably in Switzerland. At his wife, for not calling as soon as she had the letter. At the housekeeper, for not letting him read first.
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vrishchikawrites · 4 years ago
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Hello :) Here's another prompt if you're still taking them? WWX & LWJ met as children and declared that they would marry upon their first meeting. Their guardians just thought that it was cute, and that they will forget about it over time. (They don't)
(SOFT. SO SOFT. AU without SSC and GC transfer)
They first meet when Cansge Sanren and Wei Changze are still alive. The wandering cultivators find themselves in Caiyi town and Lan Qiren is reluctantly dragged from his duties to have lunch with a cheerful Cangse Sanren.
He brings little a-Zhan along.
His nephew has just recovered from a fever and is feeling a little clingy. Lan Qiren will never admit it, but something is in his chest softens when his little nephew clings to him with a pout, refusing to let go.
Cangse Sanren's son is exactly when Lan Qiren expected him to be; excitable, curious, restless, and frustratingly intelligent. Bright silver eyes track everything, fascinated and eager to know more.
Lan Qiren reluctantly nudges a-Zhan forward at Cangse Sanren's pointed stare. She's a protective mother and if he so much as implies her son is unworthy of making acquaintance with his nephew, she will cheerfully gut him.
a-Zhan is reluctant at first. He has never been the most social child, rarely interacting with anyone but his immediate family.
But Wei Ying, also a bit shy and reluctant, peeks from behind his father's robes and smiles.
Lan Qiren has to admit it is a pretty sight. The child is plump and healthy with bright eyes and a wide, sincere smile.
a-Zhan is enamored at first sight.
Lan Qiren is astonished when a-Zhan steps forward and grabs Wei Ying's hand, pulling him from behind Wei Changze and towards Lan Qiren.
Wei Ying comes willingly, curious and entertained by the unusual situation. Lan Qiren doesn't doubt he has had even fewer interactions with children his age than a-Zhan, being the son of traveling cultivators.
"Shufu," He pulls Wei Ying's arm up as though presenting him to Lan Qiren, "a-Ying."
"Indeed," He says, secretly amused but refusing to show it, "I am Lan Qiren, Wei Ying."
Apparently, the child doesn't lack manners because he attempts to bow even with his hand still firmly held in a-Zhan's grasp.
Lan Qiren is somewhat charmed.
He is less charmed when their lunch comes to an end and a-Zhan reaches for a-Ying's hand once again, refusing to let go.
"a-Zhan, it's time to go home. Don't you want to see a-Huan?"
"Show a-Ying to a-Huan." a-Zhan insists, "a-Huan sees too!"
"a-Huan can meet a-Ying later." Lan Qiren says patiently but he feels his eyebrow twitch at a-Zhan's stubborn pout, "a-Ying is staying in Caiyi for a few weeks, a-Zhan, I'm sure we can bring a-Huan next time."
"a-Huan see pretty now."
Lan Qiren winces when Cangse Sanren muffles a laugh in her husband's shoulder and the man looks at the sky, amused but too dignified to react.
a-Ying tugs at his hand, trying to free it only to pout when he can't escape.
The scene is too adorable for Lan Qiren's poor heart. He sighs.
"Alright, let's show a-Huan the 'pretty'."
---
The little wandering cultivator family stays in Caiyi for three weeks to rest, replenish their supplies, and give their child some time to play with others.
a-Huan, of course, is just as enamored by a-Ying as his little brother. Lan Qiren is getting accustomed to the sight of a little white-clad Wei child lead around Cloud Recesses by one nephew in the morning and another in the evening.
a-Huan is at least gracious enough to let Wei Ying walk on his own. a-Zhan is stubborn. If he's in a-Ying's company, he's holding the child's hand.
Wei Ying is a free spirit and being dragged around annoys the child at first. He tugs and pouts but eventually starts reaching for a-Zhan's hand on his own accord.
There's not a single person in Cloud Recesses that doesn't adore the sight.
---
"a-Zhan," Lan Qiren sighs, "a-Ying must leave with his parents. He belongs to them."
a-Zhan is red-faced and angry, his eyes wet with frustrated tears, "a-Ying stay. a-Ying stay, stay, stay!"
Oh goodness, a tantrum.
It is, unfortunately, a drama with three actors.
a-Huan is weeping with a tragic appearance of a love-scorned maiden; eyes wide and imploring, lips trembling, and face wet with silent tears.
a-Ying is burying sobs into his father's shoulder, his little body trembling with acute distress. "a-Ying not leave," He wails, "a-Ying wants stay with a-Zhan!"
"a-Ying," Wei Changze is compassionate instead of amused, his expression soft with sympathy. He rubs his son's back in gentle motions, rocking the child soothingly, "Baba promises we'll return. We'll be back before you even have a chance to miss your friends."
"Aiya! What a mess," Cangse Sanren says, amused, "a-Ying, do you want to leave us and stay with a-Zhan? We must go so you need to choose."
"Xingan," Wei Changze chides as Wei Ying looks up with wide eyes and shakes his head, looking heartbreakingly distressed, "Be gentle with our child."
Lan Qiren huffs in disapproval, glaring at her as she smiles sheepishly and presses a kiss to Wei Ying's head, "Aiya, baobao, you'll break your mother's heart. It's alright, little treasure," She plucks him from Wei Changze's arms, her face incandescent with love, "We'll bring you to your a-Zhan every two months, I promise! We would never keep you from your friends!"
Perhaps she knows something about raising children, after all. The definite timeline goes a long way to soothe all three children.
There are still many tears at their parting. a-Zhan and a-Huan sulk for days. Sometimes Lan Qiren catches a-Zhan looking at his hand with a forlorn expression.
"a-Zhan," He sighs one day, when his nephew spends an entire evening pouting and staring at his hand, "He'll be back soon."
a-Zhan doesn't say anything, just nodding gently and tucking his hand away.
The expression on his face melts Lan Qiren's heart, "I'll convince Cangse Sanren to stay a bit longer." He thinks about asking her to just let the child attend Cloud Recesses for his education. He's very bright, possessing a native intelligence that must be nurtured.
"Mn."
"Missing a friend is natural," He says softly, "But you must understand that everyone has their own life and obligations. a-Ying belongs to his parents. He must live with them."
"Mn. Will marry a-Ying so he belongs to me."
Lan Qiren chokes on his tea, "What...?"
"a-Ying promised he'll be my wife," a-Zhan nods solemnly, like he isn't nudging his uncle towards qi deviation, "a-Huan saw."
Lan Qiren turns to his older nephew, who nods with a cheerful smile, "They bowed to me and each other. I told them bowing to ancestors can wait until they're older!"
... what?
---
Tragedy strikes and Lan Qiren sees his nephew's heart break. Once. Twice. Three times.
Wei Changze and Cangse Sanren are killed. a-Ying is nowhere to be found.
Madam Lan perishes, and his little nephew deals with the weight of grief again, silent and solemn at her doorstep.
His brother retreats entirely and his nephews are left without a father.
They don't see Wei Ying again for well over a decade.
---
Wei Wuxian arrives at Cloud Recesses like an unstoppable storm.
Lan Qiren takes one look at him, sees the jaded edge in his eyes, watches his appeasing smile, and feels nothing but wrath.
This isn't the boy he remembers, raised under the boundless love of his parents. This one has faced injustice and doesn't trust the world.
The first time the boy challenges him in class, silver eyes sharp and assessing, he throws a book at him and assigns punishment with Wangji.
Let his nephew handle his cherished friend. He needs to look at the situation at the Lotus Pier.
He keeps assigning him lines, even for offenses that warrant the cane. Wei Ying doesn't remember much of his childhood but it is clear that the connection is still there.
The three children fall into their old friendship quickly. Xichen being amused and indulgent. Wei Ying being annoying and lively. Wangji never letting go.
Lan Qiren investigates.
What he finds doesn't please him.
He pens a scathing letter.
'She entrusted you with her treasure. You've made a hash of it. What do you mean by sending that child here in such a state? Did you think I would ignore it? Will you tell me the scars on his back are warranted?
Your audacity appalls me. You swore on your honor that you would raise him as your own son. I offered to take him in when you found him but you swore he was happy with you and his martial siblings.
My nephews love him. Your son only berates him.
You have deceived me.
I swear on my honor that I will find a way to wrest him from your sect, Fengmian.
You do not deserve him.'
---
Wei Ying is a naturally good-humored child. It takes just a month of being in Wangji and Xichen's company to soften all of his edges. His mischief no longer has a jaded edge to it.
He's still far too unruly for Lan Qiren's liking but he supposes that is a symptom of his youth.
"Jiang Yanli is betrothed," Xichen says as he serves them tea. He has a solemn expression but his eyes are sharp. He's almost as fond of Wei Ying as Wangji, after all, "I see no reason why Wangji and a-Xian can't be too."
Lan Qiren stills, staring at his nephew, "Betrothal." He repeats flatly.
Xichen dares to shrug, discarding his habitual poise in his anger, "Wangji has never loved another. It's unlikely he ever will." He looks up to meet Lan Qiren's gaze, "We wouldn't be able to separate them now, Shufu, not after Wangji saw-" He grimaces.
Lan Qiren looks away with a scowl, combing his beard furiously. His youngest nephew had discovered Wei Ying's scars, after all.
"We have letters from Wei Changze," Lan Qiren says, "Discussing a-Ying and a-Zhan's formal marriage arrangements." It had all been in jest, of course. When they found out the children had 'wed' with Xichen as a witness, their amusement had known no bounds.
Lan Qiren had quite enjoyed carrying out mock betrothal negotiations.
He clears his throat, "Very well."
---
Wangji and Wei Ying are officially betrothed before the lectures at Cloud Recesses come to an end.
Yu-furen's wrath knows no bounds. Soon enough, Jiang Fengmian sends Wei Ying back to Cloud Recesses with a letter full of excuses.
Wangji takes one look at his beloved's ashen expression and turns to Lan Qiren, "No more."
Lan Qiren nods.
It is difficult to negotiate but they pull it off. It helps that Wei Changze's letters speak of the marriage as an inevitable fact rather than a joke between parents.
The Jiangs lose their Head Disciple by the time the boy is seventeen. Lan Qiren arranges their marriage by the time they're twenty.
Wei Ying never leaves Wangji's side again.
333 notes · View notes
soft--dragon · 3 years ago
Text
You'll Smile Again
Word Count: 2,699
Warnings: Beginnings of a panic attack, anxiety, and facial dysmorphia mention (stay safe guys <3)
All interactions are platonic, don't you dare start shipping
This is a SFW tickle fic, if you don’t like that then don’t read :)
It was going to be a bad day.
Ranboo knew the second he woke up, it was gonna be bad. His head was swimming and his body felt numb and cold despite the blankets thrown over him. The silence was suffocating, too loud and too quiet at the same time. He curled in on himself, wrapping his arms around his middle tightly. It somewhat helped his building nausea, but it was fruitless in an attempt to recreate the feeling of a comforting hug. One sounded nice round about now.
He dreaded the idea of having to get up and being forced to look at a reflective surface, so he stayed on the couch, curled tight and wishing he could fall back asleep and wake up tomorrow. Sleeping away the day until he felt like he could stand and wouldn't keel over. Unfortunately, his mind was far too aware of the morning light streaming through the windows and the hunger rumbling through his stomach. Ranboo let out a pained sound, squeezing his eyes shut and shoved down the need to cry.
It was fine. It was fine. He...he was fine…he...
He wanted Tubbo.
Ranboo swallowed back a sob and blindly scrabbled at the cushions for his phone. His Luca wallpaper greeted him in a painful sear of light. He squeezed his eyes shut against the brightness and quickly opened his phone with his finger print. His contact list had come up before he realized what he was doing, clicking on Tubbo’s name and soon enough, the dialing sound met his ear. Instead of hearing the ringtone through their shared home like he was used to, it remained horribly quiet.
“Boo?” Tubbo’s voice suddenly came through the speaker. “Hey, I was about to call you actually, I was thinking about the vlog Tommy’s wanting to do and I wanted to get your opinions on some stuff-”
“Tubbo- w-where are you?”
There was a long pause on the other line, Ranboo’s slightly keyed up voice catching the older boy’s attention immediately.
“On my way to Nottingham big man...remember?”
Ranboo’s heart sank and he wanted to kick himself for being such an idiot. Tubbo had warned him last night he was leaving early in the morning, saying he may be gone by the time Ranboo woke up. “O-Oh...right…”
There was a rustling noise, no doubt Tubbo sitting up in his seat. “Are you okay? Do you need me to come back?”
“N-No, no” Ranboo quickly replied, wishing he’d had enough sense to think before calling his best friend, now he was inconveniencing him with his stupid problems. He squeezed his eyes shut and released a breath before attempting to speak again. “I’m okay- and anyway, Tommy’s been planning this meet up for weeks, he’d be gutted if you cancelled, he spent so much time making your schedules line up, and you’re probably already there-”
“Ranboo.”
Tubbo’s firm, unwavering voice made Ranboo’s ramblings catch in his throat, he shut his mouth with a sharp click of his jaw, hand gripping the phone shaking slightly.
“Y-Yeah?” He mumbled.
Tubbo sighed, worried but fond. “You know I’d drop anything to make sure you’re okay, right? And Tommy would understand, he knows about your anxiety and facial dysmorphia.”
The need to cry returned hard and fast, Ranboo just managed to catch himself before releasing a whine. “I’ll be okay Tubbo,” he whispered, “promise, I’m...I just need to…”
He was silent for too long, Tubbo waiting worriedly on the other side. “Boo?”
“Don’t cancel on Tommy, I’ll just take a rest day” Ranboo answered, fighting to keep his voice level. “You don’t need to worry about me.”
“Ran-”
“Toby.”
The use of Tubbo’s real name made the older teen fall silent. Ranboo practically never said it.
“I said I’ll be okay.” Ranboo knew it was ironic to say that while on the verge of breaking down but he couldn’t do this to Tubbo, not today. “Just go enjoy your time with Tommy, alright? I’ll be fine.”
Tubbo was quiet. It made Ranboo’s stomach roll uncomfortably the longer the silence stretched out. Then there was a sigh.
“The second you feel worse, I want you to call me. And I don’t care-” Tubbo cut him off before he could even protest, “-if you’re worried about disrupting me, call me, got it?”
How on earth Tubbo could be a chaotic gremlin to a sincere steady presence on the go was still a mystery to the tall teen. Ranboo let out a long, shuddering sigh as he pressed himself close to the couch.
“Okay” he agreed quietly.
“Okay” Tubbo repeated, quiet and kind. “Do you want me to stay on the call for a bit boss man?”
His thoughts immediately hissed at him, heart clenching at the thought of Tubbo having to listen to his pathetic whining-
“Ranboo.”
Tubbo’s voice cut through the haze of his toxic thoughts like a knife, yanking him back to the present. He had to clear his throat, shaking himself to properly answer. “Y-Yeah?”
“Did you hear me?”
Ranboo hugged his middle tighter with his free arm and hummed non committedly.
Tubbo softened his voice again. “I can stay if you want me to, I’m still half an hour from Nottingham.”
Ranboo squeezed his eyes shut. “Please?”
Tubbo immediately started talking, switching the subject to something more light hearted, a story about the time he hung out with Tommy and Wilbur. It got a few smiles and even a soft laugh out of Ranboo which Tubbo silently counted as a victory. He kept up the stream of chatter, allowing Ranboo to relax further and further into the couch, the tight constrictions in his chest easing up a bit. Tubbo never ran out of stories to tell, keeping his voice quiet but not without the same level of excitement that kept Ranboo immersed. He could almost pretend Tubbo was sitting on the floor beside the couch like he always did when Ranboo was having a bad day, keeping his mind distracted and heart light.
It seemed cruel when Ranboo faintly heard a whistle blow in the background of Tubbo’s end.
“Oh, I’m here” Tubbo’s voice was surprised.
Ranboo’s stomach rolled at his words, brow creasing as he knew that meant Tubbo had to leave. Still, he steeled his voice and tried to sound as calm as possible. “Better go then huh?”
Tubbo made a soft noise. “It’s not too late to cancel you know? I can still come home Boo, I don’t mind.”
Ranboo wanted to say yes, he wanted to say yes but he couldn’t do that. No. He refused to let himself ruin this meet up when Tommy and Tubbo seemed so excited to plan it out. “I’ll be fine.”
Tubbo didn’t sound convinced. “You sure?”
Ranboo huffed an exasperatedly fond laugh. “Yeah, I’ll be good Tubs.”
It was quiet again, dragging out until Tubbo sighed heavily. “Alright, I’ll stop hover parenting, just remember what I said okay?”
“I’ll call you” Ranboo murmured.
“You better” Tubbo growled but it wasn’t mean, instead sounding protective. “I mean it boo.”
Ranboo let a small smile lift his lips. “I know you do, I promise.”
There was more shuffling then Tubbo sighed, grumbling about a bag being too heavy or something. “Okay good, I am gonna be texting you to check in just so you know, and I’ll call later if you feel up to it. Um, I’ll let my parents know it’s a bad day and not bother you unless you text them- wait they’re out, so is Lani and Teagan, okay uh- Rocky is home, you need a hug, get him, he’s good at comforting people-”
Ranboo chuckled despite himself. “What was that about not hover parenting anymore?”
“Oh shut up” Tubbo laughed, only making Ranboo’s grin widen. “I’m just looking out for one of my best mates.”
It was how easily he said it that made Ranboo feel warm from the platonic affection. “I know...thank you.”
There was a fond huff. “Anytime at all Ranboo.”
After another moment of silence, Ranboo sighed with a small smile. “Go, the gremlin child is waiting.”
“Yeah yeah, I know, I’ll talk to you later Boo, try not to let your head mess with you too bad, okay?”
“I can try.”
“Love you.”
Ranboo smiled, his heart warming at the words. “Love you too.”
The call ended, blanketing the warm room in a cold silence again. Ranboo dragged a hand over his face with a deep sigh. Tubbo really was good at making him feel better-
His stomach growled.
Ah right, breakfast was a thing.
Ranboo pointedly ignored looking at anything that could show him his face. Tubbo had managed to yank him out and over the hurdle this morning, so he was determined not to let the boy’s efforts go to waste. He grabbed what he needed from the kitchen before retreating back to the couch and crashing onto the plush surface. He had meant to stay and do work on his new video for YouTube and plan out a new stream idea, but with his current state, he decided to take on that rest day he promised Tubbo. He threw on Luca, finding it was quickly becoming one of his comfort films and chewed slowly on his breakfast, wrapped up in the blanket again and becoming one with the couch. He tried to ignore the quiet loneliness despite the film, he was used to hearing chaotic laughter and batshit ramblings throughout the house. He shoved down the need to call Tubbo, he was fine. He...he didn’t need his friend... not yet at least.
He could handle being alone for a few hours.
Luca and Alberto were testing out their Vespa when an old, grouchy meow came through the house. Ranboo lifted his head from where he was now lying on the couch to see Rocky, Tubbo’s family cat, sauntering over.
“Hey Rocks” Ranboo smiled at the feline.
With a greeting “mrrp”, Rocky leapt gracefully onto the couch, stepping onto his chest and immediately slammed his face directly into Ranboo’s. It startled a laugh from the teen as the cat continued to smudge against him happily, purrs rumbling from his throat. He had avoided touching his face that morning the best he could, the sudden affection towards it was surprising, but not unwelcome.
“Hi buhud” Ranboo tried to lean away but Rocky persisted, clearly attention starved after not seeing anyone for a few hours. His whiskers skimmed across Ranboo’s cheeks softly, making him giggle and try to turn his head away. However, Rocky was determined to give Ranboo affection and instead rubbed under his jaw, his ginger fur dragging under his chin.
“Ohoho noho- Rohocks!” Ranboo squealed, quickly turning his head down to keep his chin pressed to his chest, trying to block the cat from brushing against the area.
Rocky gave a happy meow and pressed his forehead into Ranboo’s own, purring deeply now that he had access to his full face again. Ranboo giggled quietly, basking in the affection.The soft fur and loving touches on his face was comforting in its own way. It also tickled a bit, he didn’t even know his face was ticklish but apparently Rocky seemed determined to show him it was.
“Rohocky h-hahang ohon” Ranboo squeaked as the cat rubbed against his cheek, his whiskers just tracing his ear and nose. He melted further into the couch, the light sensations made him want to squirm but he couldn’t move without jostling Rocky, and the last thing he wanted to do was upset the cat. His hands were confined to the inside of the blanket, making him unable to fend off the ticklish touches even if he wanted to. He simply lay there, shifting his head around a little but enjoying the affection nonetheless. It was a nice change from the cold loneliness that had settled over the room before.
Eventually, Rocky seemed satisfied with his work on Ranboo’s face and brought his head back, not without giving Ranboo’s nose a small lick. It made Ranboo snort, grinning up at the ginger cat that almost looked smug.
“You done?” Ranboo chuckled.
Rocky meowed, probably saying ‘yes’, then moved down Ranboo’s torso, sitting on his stomach. He sniffed the blanket then started pawing at it, rearranging the folds carefully. Unfortunately, with where he was sitting, Rocky was massaging into Ranboo’s stomach and ribs gently.
It caused the teen to melt into the cushions, pressing his cheek into the back of the couch and giggling wildly into the plush material. “Nohoho Rohocks- ehehehehe!”
Rocky dug his claws softly into Ranboo’s side, massaging his sides in a kneading motion. Ranboo squeezed his eyes shut, happy giggles spilling free. Laughing felt so nice after wallowing in misery for the whole day, the tickling soft and while unintentional, was still nice.
Ranboo suddenly squealed, curling in on himself slightly as one of Rocky’s paws lightly brushed over his lower belly. The cat paused, ears flicking as Ranboo broke into a fit of breathy titters. He then purred and focused on his lower belly, taking the laughter for a sound of joy.
Ranboo managed to wrench a hand free of the blankets, pressing it to the back of his mouth to muffle his squeaky giggles. “Rohohockehehey! Ohoho gohohosh- whihihiy?”
The cat only responded with a pleased meow, shifting his paws to the sides of Ranboo’s stomach. Ranboo’s hand suddenly dropped from his pink cheeks to gently cup Rocky’s back in an attempt to bear the sensations. His plan was flawed however, as Rocky turned his head and rubbed his cheek against Ranboo’s thumb, his whiskers dragging over the back of it and making Ranboo squeak in laughter. All the while, still kneading the blanket.
“Noho- cohohome ohohon Rohohocks-” Ranboo whined but his soft laughter was happy and Rocky seemed to understand that as he purred gaily.
Rocky’s paws went to knead at his lower ribs, slow and methodical and keeping Ranboo in a state of giggly hysteria. He squirmed lightly from the sensations, trying not to jostle Rocky too much. He was surprised at his own resolve to stay still, the most extreme reaction so far being lightly kicking his feet when Rocky stayed in a sensitive area for too long. Rocky was almost too good at pulling reactions from him though, listening to when he giggled quietly or loudly, what made him move more and what made him melt. It wasn’t long before Rocky was keeping his pawing at the middle of his stomach, slow and gentle, keeping Ranboo laughing softly, not uncontrollably.
A few minutes of the gentle massaging made Ranboo sleepy and warm, relaxing into the touch and releasing breathy giggles. He still craved a hug, he’d ask Tubbo when he got back, but Rocky’s repetitive, and slightly ticklish touch had soothed him into a blissful peace. It was so much better than the toxic battle in his head that kept him feeling weighed down. Cats were pog, what more needed to be said?
Rocky then slowed to a stop, sniffing at Ranboo’s hoodie for a moment before nuzzling the material adoringly. The feline waddled back up Ranboo’s chest and lay down, tucking his paws underneath his body. He then lowered his head and shoved it underneath Ranboo’s chin, purring happily. Ranboo giggled as the cat’s whiskers brushed across his neck and jaw again, finding himself relaxing into the affectionate touch easily. Tubbo was right, Rocky was good at comforting people. He owed the cat a lot of treats and hours of cuddles.
He gently pressed his chin into Rocky’s head affectionately. “Thanks Rocks” he murmured.
The feline gave a quiet ‘mrrp’, making Ranboo giggle again. He let his eyes slip closed, melting into the couch and sighing in contentment. The audio of Luca, and Rocky’s rhythmic purring made his drowsiness catch up to him, his sleep schedule was gonna be messed up tonight but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He felt lighter than he had that morning, and Rocky was warm and grounding, made him feel loved.
Ranboo fell asleep with a smile on his face.
180 notes · View notes
marauderundercover · 3 years ago
Text
Taking Chances Chapter 4: Unexpected (Bonding)
Prev
AO3
Bruce Wayne felt lost. This wasn’t an unusual feeling for him, but he wasn’t particularly fond of the events that led to him feeling lost. First, he found out he had a daughter. Yet another child that he hadn’t known of their existence. Then, he acted as Batman. He researched the girl and found that her school situation was...less than ideal. As was the supervillain situation in Paris. The girl- his daughter- had been targeted several times. Sometimes the Akuma went after her from the start. Other times, she was unfortunate enough to be in its line of sight when it was on a rampage. Any way you looked at it, she was in danger. No, the biggest mistake in researching her came with the phone number for the bakery run by her parents. Two lovely people who had raised her and taught her right from wrong. Something he hadn’t done. Their phone call was what left him feeling lost. They hadn’t demanded that he stay away from his daughter- from Marinette. No, on the contrary, they thought it was a great idea for the two to bond. Especially once Bruce had mentioned his other children. 
“Marinette was distraught when the only information we could give her about her birth father was his name.” Sabine had said, adding to Bruce’s confusion. 
“You had my name but didn’t reach out?” Bruce asked, trying (and failing) to figure out the situation. 
“We didn’t have much to go on. Just your name and that you were American and worked in business. Bridgette didn’t give any specifics, and back then it didn’t really matter. I assumed Bruce Wayne was a common enough name, especially in the US.” Sabine replied simply. The rest of their conversation had gone similarly, with Bruce growing more and more lost until the end. They hadn’t even suggested a DNA test (though he was planning on asking Marinette, just so that they could be completely certain). They just wanted Marinette happy. Even if it meant meeting and bonding with the man who hadn’t known about her existence. 
---
Marinette Dupain Cheng was not having an easy week. No, her week was sucky. In fact it was beyond sucky, it was shitty. So many things were happening at the same time, and she was just grateful that she wasn’t currently in Paris, since she was certain she’d be akumatized. From being attacked by the Joker for simply looking like a Wayne, to meeting Batman who was just as angry in person, and then figuring out Bruce Wayne really was her dad and accidentally calling him Batman, to fighting an Akuma by herself (one that she could barely handle) and then to top it all off, Adrien is Chat Noir. And Adrien has a crush on her, as Marinette. And apparently has for at least a month. Oh and now he knows that she’s Ladybug and so last night was filled with her Chat Blanc nightmares all over again. The cherry on the top of this mess was the fact that the class was practically ignoring her. She was sure they weren’t doing it intentionally and that they were just kinda distracted by Lila’s tall tales of Gotham. Tales that include her dating one of Bruce Wayne’s sons. She wouldn’t clarify which one, which was probably for the best. They two closest to their age were 12 and 19. Neither a great option for the 15 year old Italian. A shrill ringing tugs Marinette out of her thoughts. Glancing down at the unknown number attempting to call her, Marinette silently prayed that this would turn her shitty week around. 
“Hello?” She answers, wincing slightly at the way her voice sounds after a night filled with screaming and crying from nightmares. 
“Is this Marinette Dupain Cheng?” A deep voice asks. Marinette frowns. 
“Um, yes?”
“Good. This is Bruce Wayne and well, I’m not sure how to-”
“You’re my dad.” She blurts out, face instantly heating up. “Oh crap, I mean, um-”
“Well yes. I do believe I may be your father. I was in contact with your parents earlier, to ask about boundaries and such. Your mother says that you had shown interest in meeting me and seeing how we’re similar?” He says, the question clear in his voice. Marinette opens her mouth to respond, then frowns. 
“Just like that? We’re gonna meet, just like that?” She asks, hoping that her distrustful tone doesn’t push the man away. 
“I’ll admit that I was going to ask if you would mind a paternity test. After speaking with your mother, I have no doubts, but I thought it might make you feel better. And of course, if you would prefer to just act as though I didn’t speak to your parents and go on with your trip, we can do that as well. I just- I was caught off guard, if I’m being honest.” Bruce Wayne- her father- says. 
“I’ll do it. I- I would like to get to know you. I can’t have a relationship with Bridgette, but if my parents are okay with it, I do want a relationship with you.” Marinette admits, holding her breath as she waits for an answer. There’s silence on the other end for a long moment, but just as Marinette’s about to apologize and tell him he can go and pretend she doesn’t exist, he answers. His voice a little softer this time. 
“I would like that.” 
---
The paternity test came out positive, to no one’s surprise. Bruce had given Marinette the option of meeting somewhere more public (like a restaurant or museum) to bond, or coming over to the manor. Not quite ready to deal with the possibility of paparazzi and the rumors (no matter how true they may be) that would stem from a public visit, Marinette agreed to going to the manor for dinner. Which is how she ended up sitting in silence in a town car with a man who seemed like he knew more than he was letting on. 
“So, you’re the one who raised Mr. Wayne?” Marinette asks, not quite ready to call the man “Dad” or any variation of the word. The man nods and she meets his eyes in the rearview mirror. 
“Indeed, Miss. I am Alfred Pennyworth.” The man, Monsieur Pennyworth, says calmly. She tries not to let the frustration that she feels building show on her face. She feels like she should know this man, like there’s something important that she’s just barely missing. 
“Have we met before?” Marinette finally asks, racking her brain as she tries to figure out why this man is so familiar to her. 
“I don’t believe so, Miss Dupain Cheng.” He says, and for the first time since meeting him, it doesn’t feel like he’s all knowing. Instead, it feels like he’s just as confused as she is. Drat. She opens her mouth to question him more, when the huge manor becomes visible in the distance. Eyes widening, Marinette forgets everything else and turns her attention to the beautiful architecture. The giant fence and metal gates do little to hide the massive house. Sections of the house rise above others, almost as if there are towers. Dozens of windows are visible, as is the giant fountain at the front of the house. Ripping her sketchbook out of her bag, Marinette immediately starts sketching out the ideas that attack her mind. Dresses and suits and skirts, all using the architecture in front of her for the basic shapes of the outfits. As the car goes past the gate and the gardens come into view, Marinette can’t hold back her shocked gasp. Shaped hedges and flowers, hundreds of different colored flowers, and trees and- it was beautiful. Almost too perfect. Like something that belonged in a movie. She jumps slightly as the car door is opened, Alfred standing on the other side with an eyebrow quirked up. Right. She was actually getting out of the car. And going into this massive house. And spending time with her biological- nope. She can’t do this. She can’t- 
“Miss Dupain Cheng, if it makes you feel any better, Master Bruce seems to have run into some traffic on his way back from the office. You’ll have a few minutes to gather your bearings inside before he arrives.” Alfred says softly. Relief washes over her and she nods, finally moving to get out of the car. 
“Thank you, Alfred.” She says, smiling at the man. He nods back at her before leading her up the steps to the door. He opens it and then steps back, allowing her to take a tentative step into the house. Her previous panic is pushed aside as she realizes the inside is just as gorgeous as the outside. Immediately turning back to her sketchbook, she tunes out the world around her and just stands in the foyer, scribbling furiously into her sketchbook. 
“Um, hi?” A voice says, making Marinette yelp and jump, eyes scanning her surroundings until they fall on a guy. A pretty tall guy. 
“Hi.” She says softly, also confused as to who this guy was. Not her- dad-biological father-other part of her DNA-father-Mr. Wayne- not anyone she had ever met, that’s for sure. 
“I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Dick Grayson.” The man says, extending his hand, a smile on his face. Anyone else probably would have thought the smile was sincere, but Marinette had always been good at reading emotions. And she could tell that he was wary of her. Why would he- oh. Grayson. As in, Richard Grayson, as in this man was her brother. Or, well, maybe he wouldn’t want to be. Maybe he would think that she’s ridiculous or that she’s just here to get money or here to try and pull apart Mr. Wayne’s family or maybe he would think that she was trying to take his place and she would never but maybe he would hate her and- She takes in a deep breath, trying desperately to ground herself and wishing she’d taken up Adrien’s earlier offer of him coming with. 
“I’m Marinette. Marinette Dupain Cheng.” She finally says, reaching out and shaking his hand. He nods, obviously still confused. So Mr. Wayne hadn’t mentioned her. Did he hate her? Did he ask her here to have her sign a NDA? Did he not want anything to do with her? Of course he wouldn’t, he obviously already had a family. A family that he chose, not one that he had by accident. His name was on her birth certificate, surely he would have found her sooner if he actually wanted anything to do with her? He chose Dick Grayson to be his son. He wanted him. He didn’t want Marinette. He-
“Ah, Marinette. I see you’ve met Dick.” The last voice she needed to hear says calmly as he walks through the door. Marinette swallows back the thickness in her throat, the one that tells her the tears will be starting soon. 
“Uh, yes. Mr. Wayne. Um, hi.” She says, flinching slightly when he winces. What did she do wrong this time? Was he really going to tell her to take a hike? If he didn’t hate her before, he surely did now. 
“Bruce, what’s going-” Dick starts to ask but is cut off by screaming voices getting closer to them.
“What the hell is wrong with you, Demon Spawn?” 
“Not my fault your blocking skills are subpar, Todd.”
“Sub- you almost stabbed me, you little shit!”
“Almost, yes. But I didn’t. I’m sure Father will be pleased with my restraint.” 
“You little fu-” “Boys!” Mr. Wayne finally yells as the two screaming walk into view. Both freeze and the younger one’s eyes instantly fall on Marinette, narrowing as he takes a defensive position. 
“Another one, Bruce, really?” The older one asks, making Marinette flinch back. Of course. Two more of his sons-her brothers- who he chose. Another two that he wanted. Not like her, someone he was going to be forced to know. Unless he told her tonight that he never wanted to speak to her again and made her sign a paper saying that she would never contact him again and then they would never have to worry about seeing her again and- oh this is a lot. 
“What were you two doing?” Mr. Wayne finally asks, and that’s when Marinette sees the weapons in their hands. And the blood on the older man’s shirt. The man turns slightly so that that part of his shirt is hidden when he notices her staring. 
“Uh, bonding?” He says, not at all convincing. 
“Who is that, Father?” The younger boy asks, the utter distaste clear on both his face and in his tone. And this is it. This is where he’s going to say that she’s no one, she’s nothing, and then he’s going to make her sign that stupid piece of paper and the last chance she has at knowing one of her biological parents is going to fly out the window. Poof. And then she’ll be so embarrassed, she won’t be able to go back on the trip and then she’ll have to change her name but she can’t completely run away yet because of stupid Hawkmoth and-
“This is Marinette, my daughter.” Well that was unexpected.
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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years ago
Text
Polyphonic 
Chapter 3 ao3  (alt: tumblr pt 1, pt 2)
-
Lan Qiren wanted to speak to Wei Wuxian about everything they needed to do, but it would have to wait: the moment they arrived, they were immediately swept up into the political mess that Jin Zixun’s ill-fated ambush had caused.
Jin Guangshan was there in the blink of an eye, despite normally taking his time in seeing anyone, and Lan Qiren didn’t like the way he started making excuses for his nephew’s behavior from the very start. It was to a certain degree understandable, as everyone would first incline towards defending their family, but the haste with which Jin Guangshan sought to sweep it all under the rug was disconcerting, and Lan Qiren thought it was almost suggestive of some level of premeditation. Even more distasteful, however, was how he sought to twist the entire event into being yet another reason Wei Wuxian ought to surrender the Stygian Tiger Seal to the Jin sect: for his own good, of course, in order to avoid being made into a target on account of the disdain of the cultivation world –
“Sect Leader Jin, your words are in poor taste,” Lan Qiren said sharply.
He could hear Jiang Cheng, who ought to be defending Wei Wuxian and was trying his stuttering best to do so, starting to waver; the boy had a pleasant rippling melody by nature, forced into a fierce allegro by his parents’ endless disputes and his later tragedies, and the weak foundation meant that he was too easily buffeted by uncertainty and doubt, as Jin Guangshan undoubtedly knew.
“Let us not speak in abstraction,” he continued. “It was your sect, your nephew, who launched this particular ambush. You ought to be making a formal apology to Wei Wuxian and thinking of reparations to repair the injury to your sect’s reputation, not acting like a thief complaining to the magistrate that his victim failed to hand over his property quickly enough to prevent violence!”
Jin Guangshan’s eyes narrowed in irritation, though he fought to keep the expression off his face as if it could disguise the swell of bitter rotten music that accompanied him wherever he went. “Teacher Lan,” he said, striving for composed and charming but mostly coming off as stiff and wooden. “Come now, I must be misunderstanding you. Surely you are not accusing me of being a thief.”
Historically, as Jin Guangshan well knew, this was when Lan Qiren backed down, mindful of his position as interim sect leader – his sect granted him much of the responsibility but not the full measure of power that typically accorded with the title, and he was conscious, always, that his role was to ensure there was something preserved for his nephews to inherit.
Perhaps Jin Guangshan had forgotten that Lan Qiren was no longer interim sect leader.
“I am describing the facts as I see them,” he said icily, straightening his back and levelling his best teacher’s glare, refined by years of troublesome students. “And they are this: by the agreement of the cultivation world and through his own powers, Wei Wuxian was inviolate and unbothered as long as he remained in the Burial Mounds. Despite this, he willingly chose to emerge in response to an invitation issued by your sect, only to be attacked by your sect – and when he comes to you for justice, rather than grant it to him, you suggest that he hand over his most prized possession to prevent any similar attacks in the future. Unfamiliarity may require me to consult my sect’s texts to be sure, Sect Leader Jin, but only to determine if I should be calling it extortion, blackmail, or outright thievery!”
“Teacher Lan!” one of the smaller sect leaders gasped, even as Jin Guangshan went utterly florid with rage. “You’re not suggesting that Jin-gongzi was involved in the ambush!”
Lan Qiren had been Jin Zixuan’s teacher and knew him well – he had been a shy, introverted boy whose awkwardness came off as aloofness, and would never have done anything like this. Even less so would Lan Qiren suspect such a thing of the man who had been steadied by war and responsibility into an adult with a firm moral foundation.
“No,” he said, and met Jin Guangshan’s eyes directly. “I believe Jin-gongzi’s invitation to have been wholly sincere.”
For a moment, Lan Qiren thought Jin Guangshan was actually going to strike him, his aura lashing out violently like a clash of cymbals, discordant and biting, and he braced himself, but in the last moment etiquette prevailed and Jin Guangshan refrained, although his fists were clenched so tightly that his veins stood out from the backs of his hands.
That was when Wei Wuxian opened his mouth.
Lan Qiren silenced him with the muting spell before he could get out a single syllable.
Jiang Cheng sent him a thankful glance and cleared his throat. “This is a serious matter,” he said. “It requires a full investigation; we won’t be able to solve it all talking now. Both Wei Wuxian and Teacher Lan have traveled a long way – I have no doubt that they need some time to rest and refresh themselves.”
A convenient way to stop anyone from starting a fight, and implicitly excusing Lan Qiren’s rudeness as a mere symptom of exhaustion, resolving the whole thing without losing any more face for anyone. The Jiang sect’s boy was picking up this whole politics business quite well, the poor child.
“I concur,” Jin Guangshan said, recovering a little of his poise. “There are rooms ready for you both.”
Lan Qiren inclined his head as well. “An excellent idea,” he said, and then, because he could now, added, “We can discuss reparations for the ambush later.”
“And what about the curse?” Jin Zixun hissed, clearly done with holding his tongue the way everyone had been so obviously instructing him with their eyes. “Am I to simply suffer while that criminal walks free and unharmed?”
“When I said there would be an investigation, I meant it!” Jiang Cheng snapped. “I doubt your curse is so advanced that it can’t wait another day, and if it is, then you should have brought it up earlier!”
“Why you –“
“Sect Leader Jiang has spoken,” Jin Zixuan interrupted, his voice hard. “Zixun, don’t forget that you must also answer to me as to what you did to my guest in my name without my permission. I think it might benefit you to ‘rest and refresh’ as well. One of the servants can take you to see a doctor.”
Jin Guangshan seemed on the verge of objecting, but Jin Zixuan seemed not to get the hint, already turning his face away.
“In the meantime,” he said, saluting politely, “Sect Leader Jiang, Wei-gongzi, would you come with me? A-Li is waiting to see you both.”
Lan Qiren allowed himself to be whisked off in a different direction to settle down, which in all honesty he did need to do. He hadn’t flown such a distance in years, had been in better health when he’d done so, and he had been tired even before all this excitement; some rest would do wonders for him, even if it did make him feel a bit like he’d become a doddering old man or an invalid. Before he could settle down, though, he heard a sound approaching – a little uneven, sometimes too fast, sometimes too slow – and despite the fact that Jin Guangyao had never been anything but polite to him, he felt his back tense up at the reminder of why he was here in the first place.
“Honored teacher,” Jin Guangyao said, smiling and saluting deeply – more than he should, really, given that Lan Qiren was neither a sect leader nor had ever been his teacher. “Welcome to Jinlin Tower. I regret that your arrival was marred by such unpleasantness, and hope that the remainder of your visit is calmer.”
It’s not Jin Guangyao’s fault that Lan Xichen likes him, Lan Qiren reminded himself. Your suspicions, and your family’s terrible luck at love, are your own burdens to bear. They should not be put onto others.
He nodded to Jin Guangyao.
“It would be good to see a peaceable resolution to today’s events,” he said neutrally. “I appreciate that you have come to check on me personally. It is truly going above and beyond the call of duty.”
“Your nephew is my sworn brother, Teacher Lan. How could I fail to honor you as my elder?” Jin Guangyao said smoothly. “Let me know if there’s anything we can do to make you more comfortable.”
“A bath before dinner would be nice. Has my nephew arrived yet?” Lan Qiren privately hoped that he hadn’t, and was relieved when Jin Guangyao shook his head, confirming it. “Let me know when he does.”
“Of course,” Jin Guangyao said, and saluted again. “I’ll inform the servants; a bath will be made ready for you by afternoon.”
The moment Jin Guangyao left the room, Lan Qiren traced the pattern along the hem of his robes that shook off the dust of the road, returning them to being as clean and pristine as always – not a long-term solution to laundry, but very effective in the short-run, and one that he’d only refrained from doing earlier in order to drive home the point regarding how he had also been victimized by Jin Zixun’s ambush.
It was a profound relief to be clean again.
Once he could no longer hear Jin Guangyao’s familiar chords, he relaxed, which unfortunately these days meant coughing. He rubbed his chest when he was done, sighing, and settled down with his guqin to start playing a little, hoping to ease his nerves. Lan Xichen would be on his way already, he knew, and would probably move even faster once he got word regarding Lan Qiren’s presence. He’d made rather a lot of trouble for his nephew…
The door slammed open, and only years of experience with troublesome children, along with the warning echo of a song free and clear, full of shining righteousness, allowed Lan Qiren to remain unmoved by the cacophonous crash.
“So I have questions,” Wei Wuxian said. “Many, many questions, and I’m going to want answers to…uh, are you all right?”
Lan Qiren ignored Wei Wuxian’s rush, finishing the stanza he was playing and letting his hands still over the guqin. “Sit, and I will answer your questions to the best of my ability.”
Wei Wuxian closed the door behind him and put up a talisman for privacy, like the ones they used to use during the war, before coming to sit across the table from Lan Qiren. He was frowning. “Honored Teacher Lan, your lips are red,” he said cautiously. “Were you coughing up blood just now?”
“An old injury from the war,” Lan Qiren said, unable to resist recalling the memory of Wen Xu’s wild smirk as he’d deliberately smashed his ribs into pieces, grinding his palm against Lan Qiren’s chest to force the broken pieces to pierce his lungs. Nie Mingjue had executed Wen Xu only a few months later, a matter that had greatly eased his nightmares…truly Lan Qiren had to get to the bottom of this mystery as soon as possible; once Lan Xichen’s name was cleared, he could focus on trying to devise a solution to cleanse Nie Mingjue of the spiritual poison. “It can be aggravated by excess choler. Do not concern yourself about it.”
Wei Wuxian looked like he was concerning himself about it. “But you nearly –” Lan Qiren glared until he dropped the volume of his voice significantly. “You nearly got into a fight with dozens of cultivators back at the Qiongqi Path on my behalf! Wouldn’t that have aggravated it even worse than just getting angry?”
“Much worse,” Lan Qiren agreed peaceably. “My talents in battle are not especially notable, although better with the guqin than the sword. Regardless, the effort expended would almost certainly result in a severe backlash later.”
Wei Wuxian gaped at him. “Then why did you do it?”
“Was there an alternative?”
Wei Wuxian’s mouth opened and closed a few more times.
“How are your shijie and shizi?” Lan Qiren asked when it appeared that Wei Wuxian was not going to force any words out of his mouth any time soon. He folded his hands together in an appropriate manner – he, at least, knew his etiquette, and would continue to model it in the hope that Wei Wuxian might one day catch a hint. “Well, I trust?”
“Uh, yeah, they’re great. Jin Ling is perfect, shijie is wonderful, the peacock doesn’t deserve either of them, though he’s gotten better, I guess,” Wei Wuxian said, then shook his head as if to clear it. “And I wouldn’t have been able to see either of them if not for you.”
Personally, Lan Qiren didn’t think one Jin Zixun and any number of his friends would actually be able to stop Wei Wuxian, preplanned ambush or no, so he just hummed noncommittally. “You said you had questions?”
“Yeah, and now I have even more,” Wei Wuxian grumbled, but he seemed to settle down a little. “Let’s start with the fact that you said you needed help on a musical issue, but that it is also somehow an attempted murder. What’s that about?”
Lan Qiren grimaced. “Serve tea,” he instructed Wei Wuxian, and waited until he was midway through the process – and thus not staring straight at Lan Qiren – to start talking. “I have reason to believe that Nie Mingjue has been poisoned with spiritual poison.”
Wei Wuxian nearly spilled the tea, but managed to stop himself in time. “Chifeng-zun? Impossible!” Then he frowned. “I’d heard his temper was getting far worse, of late. Just mentions of it in passing…you think it’s because of that?”
“It may be. The Nie sect is prone to encountering qi deviations; a spiritual poison, especially one that specifically targets choleric feelings such as irritation and rage, would be particularly insidious when aimed against them. Should he die, everyone might be inclined to assume that the cause was hereditary rather than external.”
“A perfect murder. What type of poison?” Wei Wuxian’s eyebrows went up. “Wait – you think – musical poison?”
“My sect is renowned for using musical cultivation as healing techniques,” Lan Qiren pointed out, not sure why it seemed to come as such a shock to Wei Wuxian. “Antidotes grow alongside poisons, and all that can heal can also hurt – anyway, isn’t what you do a type of musical cultivation as well?”
“Good point,” Wei Wuxian said ruefully. “All right, that makes sense. That definitely seems like a real problem…but why do you need my help?”
“My health is poor, and I do not know what such an investigation will require,” Lan Qiren said. “And I cannot ask anyone in my sect to assist me.���
“Why not?”
“Because the primary suspect,” Lan Qiren said heavily, “is Xichen.”
Wei Wuxian stared.
“I’m sorry,” he said after a few long moments of blank gawping. “Please forgive me, honored teacher, but I think I misheard you. Are you saying that you think Zewu-jun is poisoning Chifeng-zun?”
“I hope dearly that he is not, of course,” Lan Qiren said. “In fact, part of the reason for my desire to investigate privately is to assist in clearing him of suspicion –”
“No, no, hold on, don’t move on just yet,” Wei Wuxian said, holding up his hands. “You think Zewu-jun – Lan Xichen! – might be capable of poisoning his sworn brother and, as far as I know, best friend? Your nephew?”
“Yes.”
“You really think he’s capable of something like that?”
“I have done my best to raise him to be the sort of man who would not be,” Lan Qiren said, and thought suddenly of his own brother – their father had treasured him, cared for him, valued him above all else. Would he have ever imagined that he would do what he had done and end up living out his life in seclusion, only to die pointlessly at the hands of the Wen sect? “And yet, who’s to say?”
“Uh, me? All the cultivation world? It’s Zewu-jun! He’s one of the most upright people I’ve ever met! You might as well suspect Lan Zhan – you don’t, do you?”
“No,” Lan Qiren said. He appreciated the righteous crescendo in Wei Wuxian’s voice, particularly when Lan Wangji was mentioned – unfortunate as it might be to find that Lan Wangji’s seemingly hopeless affection might actually be requited, since it remained a terrible idea – but it was a little inconvenient at the moment. “But equally I cannot burden him with the duty to suspect his brother. It would only hurt him.”
Wei Wuxian quieted down at that. “I can see that,” he said, grimacing. “But…why would you suspect Zewu-jun?”
“The evidence is – suggestive.” Lan Qiren shook his head. “To be clear, while I will of course value the truth above all else, I am not looking for evidence of Lan Xichen’s guilt. I am hoping to exculpate him.”
Wei Wuxian leaned forward, now frowning in earnest. “All right,” he said. “I still don’t really believe it, but other people might, and that’s bad enough. Even unfounded rumors can make for real trouble. Tell me what you know about it.”
“My nephew has been helping Nie Mingjue to ease the symptoms of his familial tendency towards qi deviations by playing him one of the strongest and most secret Lan sect healing songs,” Lan Qiren explained. “The spiritual poison I have observed in Nie Mingjue’s body is precisely a variation on that healing song – only instead of the pure version, which is designed to calm and heal disrupted qi, it is intermixed with another song that deliberately encourages spiritual turmoil.”
“All right. I suppose playing for Chifeng-zun gives Zewu-jun opportunity, but that doesn’t mean he’s the only one who could’ve applied the poison song.”
“The Song of Turmoil is a rare import, hidden away in one of sect’s forbidden books. Only very few people have access to that part of our collection.”
Wei Wuxian arched his eyebrows. “And yet you can immediately recognize it?”
“I enjoy studying obscure musical texts as an aid in composition,” Lan Qiren said, mild censure in his voice. “Would you dare claim you do not do the same?”
“…fine, fine, good point.” Wei Wuxian waved his hand. “Okay, fine…still, I’m not convinced. Even if the only source of the song is the Lan sect’s library, there was a lot of chaos these past few years. Someone else could have picked it up, couldn’t they?”
“It’s possible,” Lan Qiren admitted. “Unfortunately, the tune had the same starts and stops that are characteristic of Xichen’s playing.”
As a musical cultivator, even Wei Wuxian had to concede that the unique quirks of playing style were difficult, although not impossible, to replicate, and moreover that one would have to wonder why anyone else would bother doing so, especially in a spiritual poison they presumably hoped would go entirely undetected. He rubbed his forehead, clearly thinking it over. “So, wait, are you saying you heard this musical poison getting played? Were you affected by it? Why didn’t you interrupt in order to stop it or to find out who was responsible?”
Lan Qiren shook his head. “I did not hear the playing, only the effects.”
Wei Wuxian frowned. “I don’t understand. If you didn’t hear it get played, how do you know that the playing had Zewu-jun’s idiosyncratic characteristics?”
“I’m very familiar with how Xichen plays. How would I not notice it? Even if I only heard it intermixed with Nie Mingjue’s own base tone, the sound is distinctive enough to recognize.”
Wei Wuxian was staring at him, looking blank again. A moment later his brow furrowed as if he’d just had a thought that seemed strange to him. He said, “Honored teacher, a question. When I said I wasn’t the one who cast the curse on Jin Zixun, you said that the person who cast it played the guqin, not the flute. I’d been wondering…how did you know that?”
“The curse has the sound of a breaking guqin string, which does not accord with Jin Zixun’s own music,” Lan Qiren explained. “The person who cast it was moderately powerful and very well-trained, although this represents an overreach on their part. I think it is likely that they incurred a backlash due to the casting –”
“You just heard it?” Wei Wuxian interrupted. It was rather rude, but Lan Qiren supposed he’d signed up for that. “You just looked at him and heard the curse that had been placed on him?”
Lan Qiren nodded.
“You can hear what people’s spiritual energy sounds like?” Wei Wuxian was growing pale.
“Not spiritual energy directly,” Lan Qiren said, a little puzzled by what seemed like an outsized reaction. Not only was Wei Wuxian’s face pale, his fists clenched, but his song, normally so free and clear, had become suppressed, tense, tightly strung. “More in the nature of the sound of a person’s spirit itself. Your Ghost General, for instance; he has a very gentle melody, very soft, but the underlying base is harsh, jagged, thick with resentment, less playing than dying – he needs to learn to marry those two parts of his spirit together, or else he’ll have trouble finding peace. That’s why I offered to take him as a student.”
“What about me?” Wei Wuxian asked. He was almost vibrating with the need to know. “What about my music? Has it – changed?”
“It’s gotten a little more sober, which is not uncommon with tragedy,” Lan Qiren said, and felt as though he were on the edge of some terrible revelation. “But no, fundamentally you remain the same person you always were.”
Wei Wuxian exhaled, hard. A trill of relief.
“Something happened that made you think it would change,” Lan Qiren deduced, reaching up to stroke his beard thoughtfully. He watched as Wei Wuxian’s eyes flickered one way, then another. “Wei Wuxian.”
Wei Wuxian looked at him.
“Are you unwilling to return to orthodox cultivation – or unable?”
There was a world of difference between the two: one was arrogance, relentless and unrestrained, looking down at the truths the cultivators of the world and their ancestors had worked so hard to unearth, the other merely a depressing practicality – who wouldn’t choose to cultivate something if the alternative was nothing at all?
And yet…how could it be?
And why would Wei Wuxian be so terrified of letting others discover it?
“That’s none of your business,” Wei Wuxian said, teeth set in a bitter smile that was more of a grimace than anything else. “I agreed to help you, Honored Teacher, but my business is my own.”
“But –”
“Another question,” Wei Wuxian said. “Different subject: I know you don’t lie, and earlier you said…what you said. So tell me, what Lan sect girl has her heart so set on me that you decided to come tell me in person that I wasn’t allowed marry her?”
Lan Qiren blinked. “I only meant to advise you that it was a poor match for you both; it was not meant as an insult to you,” he objected, a little offended. “If you and Wangji insist, I will not stand in your way.”
He shook his head and sighed a little, regretful; he would not pursue the matter Wei Wuxian was hiding any further. He wanted to help, curiosity itching at him, but Wei Wuxian was right – it was none of his business.
“As long as your reliance on demonic cultivation does not impede your assistance in my investigation, I will not bring it up again,” he concluded. “How do you propose we begin?”
“…Lan Zhan?”
Lan Qiren frowned. “I already explained to you why I do not wish to involve Wangji, and that I do not suspect him. Why would we start with him?”
“Not for the investigation,” Wei Wuxian exclaimed, his face bright red. “About the – marriage!”
204 notes · View notes
heejojo · 4 years ago
Text
Mr Hollywood
summary: Sim Jaeyun had made it, he had finally fulfilled his dream of being an artist but he had to leave the place he called he called home promising he would come back when everything was okay. He’s back now but are you sure it’s the same Jake you once knew?
genre: fluff, minor angst, childhood lovers turned exes to lovers again
pairing: Celebrity Sim Jaeyun x non-celebrity reader (with enhypen and treasure appearances)
warning: none
word count: 4.1k
a/n: although it has been proofread, I cannot guarantee no errors so please let me know if you see any! please let me know what you think. likes and reblogs are appreciated and I hope you have a good day.
listen to the playlist here
send an ask or fill out this form to be part of the taglist!
taglist (open): @enhyphun @jungwoniics @penny-quinn @ncthpen @fylithia @taecup-ontrack @renee1414@studioreader
Tumblr media
“And the Artist Of The Year Award goes to none other than...” the announcer said, keeping you all at the edge of your seats. Everyone here had voted for Jake so many times so that he would win. The announcer looked at the folded card in his hand before smiling and saying.
“Jake Sim!” The screams of everyone in the beer parlour with you watching the award ceremony were probably louder than those in the venue itself. You all watched in pride as the look of shock was evident on his face and he shakily walked to the podium to collect the award. You smiled at how good he looked, he had come so far from the boy you once knew here.
Five years ago, Jake had left his hometown, where he grew up for 18 years to pursue his dream. Granted, not everyone is supposed to stay for the rest of their lives but he thought he was going to stay but he made up his mind to leave for his passion. You all supported him even if you weren’t able to talk to him because of his busy schedule. Being able to cheer him from the sidelines was what you were content with. He was the pride of the town and people did not hesitate to show him off.
He gave the announcer a bow and collected the award. You could see the way his hands shook as he collected the award as if it felt unreal that he won.
“I would like to thank God for the ability to get to this point today and to thank my parents for always teaching me the right way and having the courage to let their child pursue his dreams even if it meant that I would be very far away; almost out of reach even. I love you. To all those that have continuously supported me and listened to my music, thank you. To the staff that have worked so hard and everyone I've had the pleasure of meeting, a big thank you to you" he said and walked off.
The excitement of the crowd reduced and everyone eventually retired to their homes while chatting amongst themselves. You think about the award one more time, feeling happy for him and move on. After all, the same way Sim has a life to live is the same way you do also.
The next day, when you wake up you feel a shift in the atmosphere. The birds are still chirping, yes but something feels unusual. You brush off the paranoia you feel and decide to do your usual morning duties and carry on with your day. While other people your age wanted to have prestigious jobs(not like there was anything wrong with that), you wanted something simple and had decided on being either a cafe owner or a florist.
Sadly, the cafe owner agenda wasn't able to work out because everyone in the vicinity was now aware of the way you burned down a cafe trying to bake and collectively decided that you should not be allowed to make food for people. Flowers were better than running a cafe shop. You stayed with your flowers and you were able to give
someone a flower when they needed it.
Need a flower for your mother? You got it, a daylily was exactly what they needed. Wanted to attend a funeral? Take a bouquet of lilies. It was easy to understand and you didn't directly put anyone in harm’s way. Although your shop was hardly ever full, you were content with everything.
That's why you're shocked when you find a line of people waiting to be let into your shop at 9 am. You raised an eyebrow in confusion but you opened the door nevertheless. At the end of the day, you were the one earning the money. You had things to buy, didn't you?
You take your place at the counter and start attending to the customers. They didn't tell you to pick out one for them and just chose it themselves. The crowd slowly reduced till there was only one person left. When there remained a few people, you quietly moved to one person to ask for the reason why they were so cheerful today.
"Jungwon, do you know why everyone is so happy today? My shop was full today!"
"Are you complaining about it?" He asks. Jungwon was the son of the cafe shop owner. He came to your shop frequently when he was on his break and you would talk to each other.
“Of course, I’m not. I just want to know what’s making everyone come here all of a sudden. Even old man Jay came here and you know that man never leaves his house. He bought a red carnation and I’m confused because who does he have affection for that he’s getting them flowers”
“He has a wife you know”
“Please, the last time they had a conversation with each other was when he asked for a divorce” you deadpanned.
“Look Y/N, who’s the one person in this town anyone would do anything for?”
“Kim Junkyu?”
“Close but not him, I wouldn’t do anything for him” Jungwon stated making you roll your eyes.
“The only person left is Sim Jaeyun and we know it’s not possible”
“Ding Ding Ding! We have a winner”
You give him a shaky smile before asking him, “You’re joking right?”
“I’m not,” he says sincerely. You nod your head and go sit on the nearest stool. Placing a hand on your throat as you begin to scratch at it (something you did when you were nervous) and just sit in silence while Jungwon continues talking.
“After the award ceremony, his management released a statement on his Instagram saying that he would be going on hiatus for two months to visit his family. So we townsmen decided to get flowers to pave the road with because he would be coming back. We would have used gold leaves but it’s too expensive”
He continued talking and talking while you were still trying to process the fact that Jake would be coming back. Physically he was still going to be the same Jake you had a crush on before he left but personality-wise? You doubted that. You heard stories of the way fame had changed people; the love from others would get to their heads and make them overly egotistical. A part of you knew that he wouldn’t change but the other part was unsure. Before he left, you made him promise to not change and while you knew promises could be broken, you knew he wouldn’t break them.
“Jungwon, I want to close the shop for today. I’m not feeling too well and want to rest a bit”
“No problem Y/N! If you want, I can stay here and do business for you”
“Don’t worry about it, I’ve made enough money today to last me for next month” you say and shoo him away.
At home, you just sit and think for some time before getting up to make some tea and reminiscing about your high school memories. You hardly had feelings for people so when you did, you let them know immediately. When you told Jake that you liked him, he told you that he felt the same. You ignored him for a week after that because you didn’t think that far. After that, you met up with him and explained the reason why you avoided him. You went out with each other for less than 2 weeks and during that period, he had told you about his dreams of becoming an artist and you supported him wholeheartedly.
He would carry your books from school and you both would walk home together every day. He'd play the violin for you because he was good. You'd both pet stray cats and run when they started chasing you. All good things came to an end when he told you that he had to leave to pursue his dream. You both knew you were too young to even attempt a long-distance relationship so you let each other go even though it hurt. You’d watch his music videos and support his activities even though there was a possibility he would never return. Now that he was going to be here, how were you going to cope knowing that your feelings for him were still the same while his feelings could have gone, especially with all the beautiful people in the industry?
That night, while everyone was outside welcoming Mr Hollywood, you stayed in your house dreading the days that would come. The town was small so there was no way that you wouldn’t bump into him. The voices were loud when you tried to sleep. Seems like everyone was ecstatic that Jake had come back. The noise wasn’t able to let you sleep but deep down you knew it was because you were nervous.
You decide to bake cookies to reduce the stress you are currently feeling. You had learnt from your mistakes and no longer burnt kitchens (your kitchen being valid proof of that), but Jungwon’s dad still wouldn’t lift his ban. You baked cookies till 2 am before you were really tired enough to sleep. You had baked almost a hundred cookies that night.
The next morning, you made sure to wake up early so you wouldn’t run into anyone. Thankfully, the townspeople didn’t want to buy flowers that morning and got started on the orders that people out of town had placed. You brought cookies for Jungwon so he could test them. You were trying to fix the counter when someone walked in, making the bell jingle. Assuming it was Jungwon, you say, “Jungwon the cookies are on the counter. Test them and tell me what you think, don’t eat them and run away”
“I’m not a Jungwon but can I talk to Y/N?” You’re startled but you freeze, instantly recognizing the voice. Jake Sim.
“Hello, what would you like?” you asked with a forced smile. You were way too close, the proximity was making you uneasy. He looked a bit disappointed with the way you answered him but what did he expect to come to? It had been five years.
“I just wanted to tal-” he is cut off by Jungwon bursting through the door.
“Y/N, you will not believe who I saw. I saw Jake Sim with my very own two eyes. He looks so much hotter in real life. Do you think he’d sign my back if I asked-” he stopped instantly when he saw the person that was in the flower shop.
He looked like a fish out of water with the way his mouth was agape. Looking at you, then at Jake and then you again. He brought his hand to his head and he hit it hard making you startled.
“Sorry I will leave now,” Jungwon said.
“To cry” he murmured, making you chuckle. Jungwon was someone that cried when he did something embarrassing.
“Jungwon wait,” you say and walk to give him the cookies you had packed for him with a little note.
“Eat them and get back to me when you’re less you know...embarrassed” He snatches them from your hands and makes a run for the door. You giggle then you remember that Jake was still present. Turning to face him, you ask if he wants anything. “I want to talk to you”
You motion him to sit on the spare chair you had and he obliges. Before you even ask him a question, he begins, “Was that your boyfriend?”
“No, not that it concerns you though”
“Where you last night? I saw everyone but you. The Johnny kid said you were feeling ill. I doubt that wasn’t true as you made cookies. The last time I remembered, you were really bad at anything relating to the kitchen”
“Times change and people change, Jaeyun. It’s been 5 years since we last had a conversation with each other. I’m not the same and I’m sure you’re not the same either”
“Let’s get to know each other again. Do things the old fashioned way. Go on dates, paint, and bake with each other. Do some of the things we could have done 5 years ago.”
“And then when you have to leave and have no contact with each other again”
“I won’t do that, I promise. Never again.”
“How can you be so sure of that?”
“Let me prove it to you-”
He’s cut off by the entrance of another customer and stands up to leave but you don’t miss the longing look in his eyes. You hope he can see the same look in yours that’s covered by hurt and waiting for someone to return.
You were not expecting Jake to be at your store first thing on a Friday morning. He was even earlier than you and you're the boss.
“What are you doing here?” you ask. He was bouncing on his feet and looking cherry when you hadn’t even gotten enough sleep.
“I’m here to take you out. Do it like the old times where I’d wait for you so we could go to school together”
“I have work to do today and I’m going to be booked so another time”
“I have come to offer my assistance so tomorrow we can go out together”
“Don’t you have things to do?”
“I’m on a hiatus, I’m free for almost two months and if you want I can be free for more. Imagine all the things we could do in that time” he trails off, fantasizing when you hadn’t even told him that you still liked him. Meanwhile, you had opened the door and walked in.
"Aren't you going to come in and stop thinking of cute stuff?" you ask him and he quickly runs in, flustered.
He takes a look around and puts on a determined face and gets a broom and starts cleaning. For someone that's supposed to be a celebrity, he was cleaning like an employee. You take a rag and wipe all the surfaces and take care of the flowers. After an hour, the shop is ready to open. Customers come rolling in once they see a new help. Although they're surprised, they don't question it.
During your break, Jake picks up a chrysanthemum and hands it to you. "It's for you because you're beautiful," he says
"Hate to rain on your parade but if you gave me this in Italy, it means you wish I were dead" and with that, he takes back the flower instantly and brings a single red rose. You receive it with a small laugh, finding it funny when he doesn't want you misinterpreting him. You were having a sweet moment with him until Jungwon came in again.
"I'm getting tired of seeing you here Mr Sim. As much as I adore you, I need to meet my friend" he states and pulls you to the back. "Care to explain why Jake Sim is in your store again!?"
"Nope" you respond, popping the p. He brought his hand to his forehead and tried to relax his muscles because according to him, he doesn't want to look forty-five when he's thirty years old.
"Look, it's weird coming here and seeing you have company. I'm not against you having company seeing as you've been lonely the entire time I've known you but, I can't stay in his presence! Why must a man Look so gorgeous!? He's ruining my already broken esteem. Everybody saw him in real life and was wondering how a man could look that good."
"They saw him when he was seventeen years old," you tell him.
"And he's twenty-three now! He doesn't look the same and I don't even need to have known him then to know now"
"Jungwon, I want you to get to the point," you tell him, basically pleading at that point because your break would soon be over.
"I'll see you when I have enough confidence to meet him," he says and leaves the store. You shake your head at his overdramatic behaviour and continue with your day. Jake proves to be amazing assistance and you got things done quicker and even closed earlier.
"Thank you for offering help, you can go home now. See you tomorrow" you say in an attempt to shoo him out.
"I want to walk you home" he announces and goes with you home.
"Do you hate me for not talking to you?" he asks.
"I don't hate you. To be honest, I think we both did the right thing by not talking to each other. It was good we had each other in mind but I would have caused too much of a distraction for you. It was great you focused on your career and achieved your goals. I did well too"
"Johnny boy said you were lonely though," he said.
"Number one, I know you know his name is Jungwon but you're just being petty. Two, why were you eavesdropping on our conversation and three, I still had a bit of hope that one day you'd return. I didn't think that you'd come" you say truthfully. The night was making you vulnerable when answering his questions.
"I always asked my mum how you were doing when I called her, you know? I wanted to check up on you without doing so myself. I'd ask her to give you a pop tart because I knew they were your favourite"
Even though he was still far away, he still had kept you in his mind the same way you did for him.
You got home and stayed at the door before you took him by the shoulder and said, "Let's go out together and have fun". He gives you a soft smile and watches you go in before he retires to his own home.
The following day, you're waiting for him to come. You had tried to dress up for the date but didn't want to underdress or overdress since he hadn't told you where you were going. So you decided to wear a simple sundress and made yourself look nice. He arrived wearing something as casual as you in a car.
"Is this your dad's?" you questioned.
"Yup, I borrowed it to take you out,” he says and winks at you. You shake your head laughing and get in the passenger seat and he drives.
“Where are we going?” you ask, curious.
“You’ll see when we get there” you don’t respond but wind down the window and feel the wind on your face which makes you smile.
You catch Jake glancing at you while he’s driving and he doesn’t even try to hide it. “At least try to pretend you’re not starting”
“I can’t help it, you’re so pretty” This kid, he was making it too easy for you to fall for him.
“Do you still like me, Jaeyun?” you inquire.
“I do,” he said with certainty. Has he always been this bold? You don’t say anything and continue to look out so he reaches over and takes one of your hands in his while he uses his other one to drive. You look at him but just continue doing what you’re doing.
“You might not believe me but I mean it,” he says, lightly squeezing your hand as a form of reassurance.
He stops the car at an aquarium and you both come out. You have a wonderful time and although people recognize him and are surprised to see him with you, they don't say anything and leave you alone. You smiled that day more than you had ever smiled before.
"The fishes look good to eat" you whisper in his ear and he playfully smacks your arm and jokes.
"You monster! How can you say that!?" to which you jokingly shrug.
After the aquarium, he takes you to a flower field. "I did my research this time so I don't give you a wrong flower." He picked up a primrose and says, "I know this one means love is eternal so I'm giving it to you because no matter the distance between us, our love will be forever"
You feel warm this time and know that even if he were to leave again, the distance wouldn't matter because together, you both could overcome anything.
"You're all I need" you manage to say.
"When did you get all sentimental?" he teases and you chase after him in the flower field. When you get tired, you lie down on the grass and he lays next to you. Your hands find his hands amid all the grass and you squeeze it. Unknowingly, you fall asleep next to him.
The next weeks that follow include you two bonding and Jake having fun and being relaxed. He was able to write a song but wouldn't let you see the lyrics, saying it wasn't something he wants you to see yet. You met his parents and thanked his mum for taking care of you indirectly and conversed with his dad too. You could tell that he hadn't forgotten any of the values his parents had thought him. He grew up surrounded by a lot of love so he had more than enough to give.
He also met your parents and he was nervous even though you had tried to reassure him that they wouldn't do anything to him. Your father tried to act scary but deep down you knew he had a soft spot for him. Your mom was showering with more affection than she gave you and Jungwon tried stylishly asking him for his celebrity crush numbers.
"Jake, since you're dating my friend can you link me up with Han Sohee? You've worked with her before, help a friend out"
"I'll ask her but no promises" Jungwon was so happy the entire day.
A few days before Jake had to go back because his hiatus was over, you both were talking about how things would be while baking muffins.
"Y/N don't think I won’t talk to you when I go because I can already see the gears turning in your head."
"Pass me the butter Jaeyun"
"Are we back to the first-name basis? Call me the sweet names" he whined.
"Just pass the butter babe" and he passes it instantly.
"Now back to what you were saying, I know you won't forget me obviously and if you try I I can always take a flight to get to you." You tell him. You weren't going to wait around for him anymore. If you missed him, you'd go see him if he was unable to come to see you.
"Better, I was already worried," he says and gives you a back hug.
The day he left was bittersweet and you shed a few tears. It took a lot of willpower to not cry in front of him. You didn't want him to leave but you knew that he had a job to get to and you couldn't be in the way of that.
You both regularly kept in touch, calling each other at least twice a week to catch up on what had happened during each other's week. He hadn't told you that he released a new song and you found out through his fanboy Jungwon who was now the self-acclaimed president of his fan club.
"Y/N, have you heard Jake's new solo? I cried to it for an hour straight" You didn't have any time to check what was going on because someone had ordered flowers for their wedding and you had to get them done quickly.
"New solo?" you ask and Jungwon sits you down and plays the song for you. Truth be told, you cried as well. It felt like he was there with you telling you that he'd never change.
You watched the interview and when he was asked about the meaning or person behind the song, he said, "There's someone that I love and I wanted to let her know that no matter how famous I get, I won't ever change and she shouldn't change either". He looked directly at the camera then continued, "You're stuck with me forever".
That night, you called him and cried on the phone to him telling him about how you saw the interview.
"Y/N, you know I care about you" you sobbed even harder.
"I care about you too, forever"
"Forever baby, regardless of the distance"
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fandomlovingfreak · 4 years ago
Text
Glacial Passion (5/?)
Regulus Black/Reader
Rating: SFW, T+
Trigger Warning: Arranged Marriage
Word Count: 1998
MasterList Link I AO3 Link I Wattpad Link
Summary: Glacial, cold, icy… all words that described Regulus Black’s grey eyes. Was there truly no emotion behind those eyes, or did a caring man exist beneath? Could she defrost those glacial eyes?
Disclaimer: Regulus Black (Walburga Black, Orion Black, and Sirius Black) is a character from Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling. Reader or y/n is not owned by Rowling. This work has not been created for profit or financial compensation, and is a transformative fair use work in accordance with Section 107 of the United States Copyright Act.
Notes: My only note is that the characters in this fanfiction do some questionable things. This does not at all reflect my personal morals or anything I would do (and certainly hope you would not do). Please don’t read this story if you can’t separate fiction from reality. Fanfiction is for entertainment and should not be something that teaches you to be or act a certain way. Thanks!
Enjoy
***
Regulus is met with silence when (y/n) climbs into their bed after the fight and more silence when she doesn't acknowledge him in the morning, dressing silently before sitting on the balcony with her book.
He glances out of the glass door, watching her devour the words on the worn book. Sighing loudly, he looks back towards the parchment on the desk. He didn't exactly know what to say to Sirius. He knew he wanted his older brother to know about the developments his life had taken in the past month, but how do you complain without sounding entirely pathetic? Especially when your complaining was truly aimed at your own actions and attitudes. Sirius would love (y/n); he was sure he would. In a way, (y/n) sort of reminded Regulus of his brother. She was so adamant about not following the rules that people like them followed. Obviously, she hadn't been able to escape Pureblood society the way Sirius had... He doubted, though (y/n) would have tried. It had to be harder to be a woman in the circles they found themselves in. He honestly couldn't imagine living at the level she was expected to.
It's not like he had any special freedom from the constricting nature of their society, but he could do many things she couldn't while still maintaining his reputation. He could have affairs, he could (but personally wouldn't) abuse his spouse, he could even live separate from her without causing a stir. All these things happened within marriages like their own, and only the women seemed to be ruined by their actions and the actions of their husbands and fathers. 
Regulus picks up his quill, intending to finally start this blasted letter. Where does he even begin?
 Sirius,
I do not have any great excuses for my lack of communication, other than the last month, which has been one of the most hectic of my life. I am unsure what you have heard. I doubt you have a full picture of what my life has become, as I would hope you would reach out to congratulate your younger brother on his recent nuptials if you had heard. 
My new wife, (y/n) Black née (y/ln), apparently checked off the boxes our parents found necessary for the next Mistress Black. Funnily enough, though, I'm not sure they did much research into who she is as (y/n) could hardly be considered the traditional Pureblood bride.
But that is hardly a bad thing; if anything, I find her refreshing, if not a bit maddening at times. I had been somewhat afraid to have a meek and mild wife who would cower under my gaze. (y/n), despite being brought up similarly to us, she seems to have developed her own personality outside of Pureblood society. She isn't bitter or greedy like the other girls. The only piece of jewelry I have been able to give her without argument has been that horrible engagement ring-- you know, the one from mum's side. She doesn't want the things most of these Pureblood girls want. Jewelry and expensive things don't seem to make her happy the way mother said they would.
Even as she is different, I have this ever-increasing fear that I might drive her towards the other's level of bitterness and unhappiness. I will be the first to admit that I have no idea what I am doing with women; this fact has not changed in my marriage. It's become even more apparent that I haven't a clue how I should behave as I've been forced into this relationship.
It has also become clear that Mother's advice has been shit, as every attempt I've made with my bride has been met with annoyance from her. I can't seem to give her what she truly wants. Embarrassingly enough, what she talks of-- craves from me is some sort of romantic connection. This is something I hadn't planned on in an arranged marriage, and I'm not sure if I will be able to indulge her without a bit of deceit. 
Which I would feel horrible for doing-- pretending. 
Last night, like many nights in recent weeks, I found myself in an argument with my wife over this exact topic. Something she said triggered a memory, hopefully, a memory that you have a recollection of as well.
Do you, brother, have any memories of our dear mother when she was-- well, motherly, to say the least. Warm and loving, as a mother should be. When she would admit to us in hushed tones that the love we showed her was the replacement for the lack of love between Orion and herself?
During the heated exchange with my wife, I was struck with that strange memory, and I realized deeply and uncomfortably that I was in the early stages of pushing my own wife towards becoming our mother. Something, I realize now, I cannot allow to happen.
Pushing this girl towards unhappiness when she was forced into marrying me by her parents is unacceptable on my part. I'm completely aware that it is me who is making us miserable. I should be happy, or at least satisfied enough in the marriage to indulge her, to try. (y/n) is beautiful, everything a man could want in a wife. And I do want her. 
Yet, I do not know how to want her the way she is expecting me to. And, I have to reiterate that I don't know how to even-- fall in love, I suppose.
Through my woeful letter, I hope you see a solution to my dilemma. Or at least can offer advice as I have no idea which direction I should go at this time.
Sincerely,
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Regulus places his quill to the side, reading over the content of his letter. At times, he sounds like a pathetic child whining, but he hopes his brother can see he sincerely wants his advice.
Very much requires any advice Sirius may have.
None of Sirius's advice could be helpful on the trials and tribulations of marriage per se, but if anyone had experience in relationships, it was Sirius Black. Sirius, who wooed and flirted his way through life, would know exactly how he would be able to win (y/n) over and hopefully form a romantic relationship with her.
Slowly, Regulus gets up from the desk, taking his time to cross the room. Opening the glass door to the balcony, he pokes his head out. When (y/n) doesn't look up, he clears his throat.
She freezes, slowly lowering the book enough for their eyes to meet, but doesn't say a word.
"I'm going to go to the lobby to have this posted." Regulus feels the light pink of embarrassment on the tops of his cheeks.
(y/n) nods once before giving her attention back to the blasted book. Regulus's lips pinch before he shuts the door a bit louder than necessary.
Much to his annoyance, the banging noise doesn't seem to faze his wife. 
He stalks down to the library in a mood, the letter to Sirius gripped tightly in his right hand.
A young witch greets him, asking if he needed any assistance with anything.
"I require an owl. I have a very urgent letter that needs to arrive as soon as possible."
"Okay, if you'll follow me, we can get your letter sent." The witch leads him up to the rooftop, showing him the hotel's fastest owl.
***
A sharp knock on their suite's door startles Regulus, who had been reading the Prophet to pass the time. He gets up off of the room's couch, opening the door to an older gentleman.
"Mail delivery, Master Black." The old man hands him a hastily folded piece of parchment addressed to him in Sirius's messy excuse for handwriting.
"Uh-- thank you." Regulus digs in his pocket, pulling out money to tip the man. They exchange the items, and Regulus hurries over to the desk. Hurriedly, he breaks the wax seal and opens the letter.
 You got married?
Ah, yes. His ever eloquent brother didn't even bother to address the letter, jumping right to the point.
Regulus reads on...
You got married? And I didn't even get an invitation? I'm sort of hurt, but yet again, mum would've been pissed if I showed up. How fun would that have been, though? Me crashing your wedding in my Docs and my worn Led Zeppelin shirt. Mum would've freaked.
We really missed an opportunity, Reggie.
But, wow. You married. That's wild. And she's a bit wild as well? How did you manage to end up in an arranged marriage with what seems like the most unique of the Pureblood lot? Besides me, of course.
I'll have to meet this fascinating (y/n) (y/ln)-- or should I say (y/n) Black? Weird-- I have a sister-in-law. That feels too grown-up and stuffy.
Maybe it feels wrong, mostly because you never dated anyone, or at least anyone I knew of.
The point you made about you knowing absolutely nothing about women is incredibly accurate, I'm afraid, Reggie. The poor girl, I hope you haven't been ignoring her like Orion does to Walburga. But, I'm almost certain that you have been sort of an ass to her by your letter.
You want advice though, do you now, little brother. Here is my advice to you:
I have dated plenty of people in my days-- plenty. If you truly wish to make your wife (what the hell that is so odd to write!) happy, Regulus, you need to get to know her. 
Ask her questions about her likes, her dislikes. What her childhood was like, who her friends are. Even silly things such as how she takes her tea or what she grew up wanting to be as an adult. But you must be prepared to be vulnerable and answer questions she has for you as well. If you can't open up and be vulnerable, you will never be successful in 
A) forming a "romantic connection" with (y/n) and 
B) falling in love with your wife. 
I hope that I have been helpful. My advice is simple, but knowing the woman you promised to spend eternity with is necessary to live a peaceful life. Maybe the whole "happy wife happy life" saying is accurate. Not like I would know, but still.
As for the memory of Walburga you brought up, I do remember instances like that. I hadn't thought about those instances in a very long time. I hope you are successful in your attempts with (y/n). I would hate to see another woman turn out like our mother.
Your brother,
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 P.S. Take your wife out somewhere romantic! For Merlin's sake, Regulus. You have to have some romance somewhere hidden within you!
 ***
Regulus decides there's no better time than the present to follow Sirius's advice. Unfortunately, he already used up his one "romantic" idea (really Orion's, but still) with their disastrous dinner the previous night.
His only option would be to find a local who would know of spots he might take his wife to. He reckons the logical locals to ask where these locations would be are the hotel's staff.
The same witch that helped him with the owl still sits at the hotel's lobby desk. She grins widely when she notices he's walking towards her, "Oh! You're back!"
Regulus controls his mild annoyance with the woman as she bats her eyelashes foolishly.
"I wonder if you know any places around the city that you recommend for honeymooners?"
The girl's face falls slightly before she's grinning again, "You're on your honeymoon?"
"Yes, you've probably seen my wife with me," he says, asserting that he does have a wife and that the girl shouldn't get her hopes up, "I'd like to take her out this afternoon, but I'm afraid I know little of the spots couple's usually visit around here."
The witch thinks for a moment, "I think I have a perfect place in mind."
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