#I guess part of this is my fault though; I was curious enough to entertain such a list in the first place and then not even

[musicrunsthroughmysoul]

Who the fuck makes a list of the best "female" punk bands (where "female punk bands" means fronted by women and also bands of all women, but not all bands on the list are bands of all women) and FORGETS TO INCLUDE X-RAY SPEX?!?!? THERE WERE EVEN TWO WOMEN IN THAT BAND! I- oh, the whiteness and racism of it all. Oh, it's embarrassing.

Not to mention that no fucking playlist of punk rock should ever be complete without "Oh Bondage Up Yours!" at the very least! How can you even talk about punk music in general without mentioning X-Ray Spex?

[vers-1]

Todays ranking

Top to bottom

Evil dead

Crooks

Rats Aca Demy

Bite

Evil dead- 8/10

It’s well produced. I love a set that moves. Picture frames, puppets, set pieces. I especially liked the chair mouth and the moose. I also love maximalism, everywhere you looked was something! It’s my first time seeing the shadow being used to depict violence and I enjoyed that a lot. Music was good, acting was good. I thought pacing was good also because lots of movement was meaningful and engaging. I love horror, comedy, and musicals. But I don’t like getting sticky not fun minus 2 points. But it’s very good for a bunch of hs-ers

Rats Aca Demy- 8/10

It was perfect actually. Costumes and makeup were amazing. Audience participation, call and response is welcomed always. Plot was very nice. I’m not always into anything dramas but it was also funny so that always makes things better. Pacing was a little slow because of the audience participation tho. Like it is fun to do, but it felt a little too much at times. Like get on with the story which brought the entertainment value down a tad. I enjoyed the plot of this one more than evil dead. They set up a clear progression/plot points that they hit clearly as well. We all understood the assignment with more than enough time to sit with. It’s lower than evil dead by superficial reasons,, I love comedy AND musicals a little more. Categorically a musical has to really tank to not be above a play. Or a play has to be extraordinary to be on top.

Crooks- 7/10

Slow start, but once it started it kept on rolling. Ending was excellent. It had my favorite plot. It was funny and corny and also drama filled which isn’t always my favorite but the story was interesting to me. Like certain topics are usually big turn offs for me so when the dark material was murder and drugs I was relived and refreshed. Had my favorite character of the day. I loved every bit but the beginning of the play. It is placed higher on the list but rated lower because I was entertained more consistently with crooks but rats was more polished. Crooks was more charming though and I value charm!!

Bite- 5/10

When you think of a show by the local theatre group you see bite. Its flat seating made it difficult to watch, but not their fault. The acting was the worst of the shows, but they are very passionate. Live music is always more points. Low budget set is just show business finesse baby. A handful of excellent highlights lets them hold their head up at the end of the night. Alex’s pirouette, 12 year olds scream and major emotional moment!!, Ellie’s girlfriend in real life??, and that other guy I’m sure did something other than sweat. A lot of Alex’s bits were good and personally relatable. He’s a funny guy. There delivery was very much hs theatre reciting lines, but there were moments of embodying the character that I appreciated. A More relaxed voice that felt more like a reaction to another characters lines than just trying to get through the scene. I think it is definitely the standard show you’d expect. You go into it curious with low expectations and then go huh! That was different than I would have expected it, but it was also good or ok. Also the addition of a they/them character who looked normal and was normalized is refreshing. It’s the apocalypse babe, no time for coming out stories

Overall

Any scene with red lighting was my favorite, love seeing the descent of the psyche

I found my fringe, it’s pathetic stupid stupid men I guess

,, there’s a time and place for social commentary or political pieces for sure but not for this, not for $20

Lemonade is good, sorry

Lying is part of the festivities

In addition we will start going for first row if possible over middle seats in the seccond. We are just too little man

[dear-yandere]

& just drown with me.

yandere! beidou x reader. general headcanons. tw: kidnapping, implied dubcon. disclaimer: this is not a healthy relationship.

art belongs to jay ash (pixiv).

“come out, come out to the sea, my love and just drown with me...”

beidou is...

reverent, delusional, honest, lenient (RDHL) + doting, protective, clingy

— reverent is she the moment she sets eyes on you, her heart skips a beat. she doesn’t mince words or skirt along bushes; she’s enamored the moment she sees you, and she ensures that you’re well aware of her attraction. you’re quick to pick up that she is terribly handsy—and perhaps a little touch-starved—especially when it comes to you. her hands are on you at all times, sometimes friendly, sometimes on the cusp of something more.

she wants to hold you close and never let go, she knows that much. you’re just so frail, so easy to break if the slightest wind were to brush your sides a little too harshly. in contrast, she’s strong beyond compare, able to best sea beasts and part mountains with only her sword; and yet, gentleness is not lost on her. she takes extra care in handling you, beyond scared that you’ll break apart between her fingers if she’s the slightest bit too rough.

and letting go quickly becomes difficult.

she likes feeling your skin against hers. your hand entangled with hers, your fingers delicate and unused to combat; she is forever fascinated by the soft swell of your palm, the way your hand looks as if it can hardly hold itself against the world. your skin is devoid of callouses and tears unlike her own which carries the sword as big as her stature. your hair’s disheveled and knotty, and your clothes carelessly strewn across the floor. she likes you best this way; completely without covers, so that she may take you in to your fullest, so that she may hold all of you within her grasp and never let go. her fingers are always wrapped around your waist, lips pressing kisses onto your head.

you are a treasure beyond compare. 

— her thinking, you soon come to learn, lies upon the border of delusion, and yet her eyes hold an assurity when they look at you. you’re never allowed off her ship unsupervised. the decision was quick and painless, her voice doubtless and her intentions clear as the sea. she wants to flaunt you by her side, as she enjoys the way your body will grow warm with embarrassment when she walks into town with a pretty little thing by her side. pirates are known for their nonchalant approach to life, so for the great captain of the crux to show up in public with anything—or anyone—by her side apart from her trusty claymore is a curious sight. captain beidou isn’t known for her ability to settle in one place or with one person; the sea’s always been her true calling, after all. but to see her fingers gently settle on your shoulder as she pulls you close, the smirk on her reddened lips will quickly twist into a full-blown grin as the crowd she’s drawn erupts into cheers.

you know better than to make a scene in front of these people—people who look up to captain beidou, people who wouldn’t take you seriously if you explained the way she keeps you captive on her ship. you’re nothing more than a victim, you’ll say to them, and they’ll only laugh you off with a wave of their hand, certain this whole charade is some roundabout way for beidou to entertain herself. the sea must drive a man delirious, after all. no one can fault her.

and for that reason, no one can believe your pleads.

beidou is a free spirit enamored by the call of adventure, and yet her actions are anything but.

— dishonesty is something beidou hasn’t the time nor patience for. her words hold no lie when directed at anyone, but especially when directed at you. she couldn’t dream of lying to you—and she has, unfortunately. the moment she woke up from that terrible dream was the moment she shook you awake to apologize profusely, even if the language was colored with her own vulgar vernacular. yes... she apologized for a futile little lie she told in a dream.

dishonesty simply isn’t on the table.

she goes to great lengths to explain her day to you, taking the utmost care to not leave the slightest detail out. the main reason being her guilty conscience, really. there’s not much to do cooped up on a musty ship cabin—even if her quarters are decked out to the nines just for your liking. you weren’t keen on the idea at first, feeling more like a child being told stories before bedtime, rather than a fellow sailor and her beloved first mate. but her eyes will light up all the same, and she’ll tell you of her day and the new things she’s seen as if you were right there with her. you quickly learn to nod along and acknowledge her every so often, as the only alternative is to mope around in her cabin or on the deck—the few times she’ll let you accompany her out there. there’s only so many thoughts to think by yourself, and at some point, you grow to look forward to these fantastical stories every night.

— she doesn’t know fear—freedoms are yours for the choosing if you’re brave enough to set your sights on them. lenient and all too unfussed by the chance you’ll make it any further than the twenty feet from her person at all times, she’s well aware you won’t make it rather far. you wouldn’t call it much in the way of “freedom” really—and you start to envy the citizens of the ever-free mondstadt a few regions over. all freedoms are your for the taking; that is, all freedoms except a dismissal from her side. it’s where any good luck charm belongs, she’ll laugh and plant a wet kiss atop your lips. her good luck charm... she doesn’t need luck—not with strength rivaling a god’s—and yet she refuses to go anywhere without you close behind. 

it’s no surprise that her crew had once joked that you follow her around like a lost seadog—unaware that you do so per her directions—only for the poor lads to regret ever having said anything. their captain’s eyes are dark when she pipes up behind them.

“haven’t you got better jobs to do than mess with my lass?” she jeers, that usual smirk not quite reaching her eyes. from your position behind the crew—the men now all lined up in terror before the captain of the crux—even you start to break into sweat. it’s clear from her tone that she’s irritated, and the fact she’s clutching onto her claymore as if its the anchor on her anger scares even you. 

they were poking fun at you only moments ago, and now you can’t help but feel sorry for them.

“i’ll let you off the hook ‘cause you’re my dear brothers.“ despite her clemency, her expression tightens and not one man dares to let his tense muscles relax. “but i’ll only say this once, lads.” she explains, stepping down from the raised deck to saunter over to your side. all eyes turn to you two, a pair they’ve grown used to seeing day in and day out. beidou slings her arm around your shoulders, the curves of her body pressing into yours perfectly. “this here is my first mate; a jab at them is no better than a jab at me. the next time i hear a jab at them, i’ll do far worse than have you swimming with the fishes.”

— she loves drinking with you by her side, even if you can’t hold liquor down to save your life. her cheeks are quick to flush shades of pinks and reds, and you can never stop yourself from staring in awe, even when she slings an arm around your waist and pulls you close. her lips catch yours as if they belong there, a puzzle piece filled by its other half. her kisses are a hazy fire, fiercely warm and dangerously untamed; they always taste like strong beer, the beverage steeped in various spices that sit nicely on her lips.

you only wish she wouldn’t do so in public. her boisterous laughter and charisma draws the attention of the tavern-goers, most of whom know better than to interrupt beidou when she’s chugging down jugs of alcohol. her crew doesn’t mind the sight, nor do they mind your presence at the table—though, it’s not like they have much of a choice in protesting; although they don’t fully recognize you as a bonafide crew member of the alcor, it’s clear that captain beidou has something of a sweet spot for you.

still, they feel like they’re witnessing something they shouldn’t when she captures your lips with hers, her fingers drunkenly playing with the thin strap keeping your outfit intact. 

— captain beidou carries her heart on her sleeves and her riches in each hand. riches and spoils are fully within your grasp at all times, sometimes to the point of annoyance when she insists on adorning you with a piece of jewelry she picked up at port. ‘it reminded me of you, s’all,’ she’ll laugh sheepishly, already unclasping the necklace to set it around your neck. ‘wear it and think of me, yea?’

it’s an order more than a romantic sentiment; you have no choice but to think of her at all times.

it’s only when you learn of her past that you come to understand her near-obsession with providing you with the best of the best. from the moment she opened her eyes as a newborn, her life had been mired by misfortune, as if the gods themselves were curious how long she’d survive a life of ordeals. as confident as she is now, you would’ve never guess that beneath the surface, she is forever humbled by her past. having grown up in a family with little money and even less to eat, she was to pick up on the way of thieves, learning the schedules and habits of merchants at the local market so that she could swoop in to steal fruits and veggies from their unattended stands.

“don’t worry about it too much, lass; me telling you such stories is merely for your amusement,” she’ll laugh as she explains this to you, sparing you the grisly details of starvation and malaise. she doesn’t tell you how her skin would cling to her ribs for years on end, hanging from her skeleton as if life had given up on it. she’s been on hard times for most of her life, and yet the only side you ever see is the one blessed by fortune and power.

“life and i have never gotten along, so i had to climb my way up in this world.” her tone is cheerful; you see right through it. “my life’s been tough, i’ll admit that much, but i have no intention of making you live through that too.” 

— as much as she tries to run from it, she cannot outsail truth. as much as she’d prefer to keep you on her ship—where she can keep an eye on you, where you’re always free to join her in her quest for adventure and thrill—she’s aware that all things must come to an end; even the sea has an edge and an end.

this is just one of them.

 “hey... if you really don’t want to be here, i won’t stop you. it’s your choice, and whatever you decide is set in stone. i can’t change that no matter how hard i try, but... could you do me a favor?... just, could you at least give me a chance? 

i don’t like overstepping my boundaries where i’m not needed, but this is all i’ll ask of you. think long and hard about your decision. what you decide is up to you—and if you’re set on the idea, i’ll let you leave, no repercussions. sound like a deal?”

bonus.

— she isn’t herself at night. gone is the boisterous laughter that could raise the hair on a man’s arms. gone is the domineering aura she carries like a shield, its front aimed at a world that tries to hold her down. she craves adventure, but the moment night falls and she pulls you into the cot with her, she’s out like a light. the only time you manage to catch yourself every day is when she’s by your side rather than the other way around, her person quiet and gently breathing the sea-stained air.

the ship creaks, and you can hear it clear as night now that the crew is snuggled into their cabins and warm cots, and now that their even-louder captain has fallen asleep. you can finally hear your own thoughts. you have much to think about, having been spirited away to “adventure” against your will... and yet you only think of her.

you turn on your side and settle your weary eyes on your lover. her features are no longer sharp, no longer laden with the responsibility of power and might. nestled between a lavish blanket and the warmth of your body, she is no longer a paragon of otherwordly strength; she’s just human. this is just another side of the captain, just another beidou intended only for your eyes.

and it’s in these quiet moments that you realize you’re in love.

dear-yandere, all rights reserved.

[bonjour-rainycity]

Late in the Night | Part Three

Previous part

Prompt: There’s only one bed (Content Challenge Day 6)

Pairing: Legolas x Female Reader

Rating: PG

Word count: 1914

Warnings: None

Challenge participants: @game-ofthe-company @grunid @themerriweathermage @errruvande @the-reformed-ringwraith @awkwardkindatries

A/n Happy Day 6 of my content challenge! If you like my account, chances are you’ll love the accounts mentioned above! Check them out if you can :) If you want more, you can find the challenge’s masterlist here and my personal masterlist here. Okay, happy reading!

The tavern is warm and a welcome escape from the evening chill. Occupying the common room is a small, though lively, crowd, including Gimli and Boromir, who sit in plushy chairs drinking mead by the fire. The barman eyes the newcomers with a measure of surprise — it’s his second unusual guest of the night. Though the woman is predictably human, the one standing next to her is clearly an elf. The barman marvels at his luck, knowing he will be the talk of the town if he can compile some interesting stories about the elf and the dwarf he met this eve.

The barman waves at the odd couple, and they come to the counter. The three exchange pleasantries, but Legolas and Y/n are careful to be vague about their travel plans. Even though the barman seems innocently curious, one can never be too cautious. The barman inquires about their needs.

“Meals for tonight and tomorrow morning, as well as two rooms — at least one with a fireplace if you’ve got it.” Legolas reaches under his cloak and produces a velvet pouch containing the human currency he brought for the journey.

The barman grimaces. “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m afraid there is only one room left. You see, we are a small establishment, and the guests that arrived shortly before you requested separate dwellings.”

With narrowed eyes, Legolas turns to regard a very satisfied-looking human and dwarf. Gimli raises his mug, winking at his elven friend.

“Did they, now,” Legolas murmurs, beginning to guess at his friend’s plan. At his side, he hears Y/n huff in disbelief, obviously having caught on.

To his credit, the barman seems genuinely apologetic. “Yes, I-I’m afraid so, sir. If you like, there is another inn on the other side of town, I could inquire about vacancies there—”

“No, thank you.” Legolas cuts him off, trying to soften his cold tone with a smile. He can’t risk the managers talking and comparing guests before he and his companions are long gone. “We will make do.”

The barman briefly disappears to find the key, and Y/n tries to study Legolas surreptitiously. Unfortunately, he seems to have the same idea about her, and their eyes dart away immediately upon meeting, knowing they’d each been caught.

How awkward.

The barman returns, sliding a smooth silver key into Legolas’ hand, who quickly pays the man. “Would it be too much trouble to have dinner delivered to our room?” Legolas swallows. Our room.

The barman responds favorably, but there is an unmistakable note of disappointment to his tone. No doubt he was looking forward to studying probably the only elf he’s ever seen.

Y/n sneaks a look over to Gimli, who is quite enjoying his mead, and figures that he will give the barman enough entertainment to last a few years.

The pair ascends the stairs, and Y/n notices a pink twinge to Legolas’ cheeks. He stumbles over his words, something quite unusual for him. “I—uh, did not mean to presume. I apologize.”

Y/n shrugs. “You don’t need to apologize. It’s our fault for not asking to arrive first, I guess,” Y/n tries for a laugh, but it’s impossible for Legolas to not notice how she won’t meet his eyes.

He stops on the landing, looking quite pained. He hates the idea of making her uncomfortable. “I will sleep on the floor.”

Y/n takes pity on the poor elf, and puts effort into seeming relaxed. “No, really, it’s okay. It’s no different from lying near each other when we camp, right?”

It is completely different, Legolas thinks, but decides not to share that comment.

They reach the door, and both try to will their nerves away as Legolas turns the key in the lock.

“Oh.” Y/n is pleasantly surprised by the state of the room. “It’s nice.”

Legolas has to agree. The bed—the sole bed—is off the ground and boasts an actual mattress, complete with two fluffy pillows and three blankets. There’s a fireplace, a water basin, a tin tub, two exceptionally large jugs of water, and a changing screen. The presence of these amenities constitutes luxury after their time in the wilderness.

Y/n crosses the threshold first, and Legolas chides his own cowardice. The battlefield gives no fear to him, but sharing a room with the woman he…

Well.

He forces himself to enter the room.

Y/n twists the hem of her tunic in her hands, trying desperately to get through the awkwardness. “Will it bother you if I have a bath?”

Legolas practically catapults himself forward, eager to have a task to busy his mind. “Not at all. I’ll heat the water.” He grabs one of the water-filled jugs, lays it on the grate inside the fireplace, and works to start a fire.

Y/n fiddles with the changing screen, dragging it slightly to the left so it completely shields the length of the tub. Even though the fire is properly kindled, Legolas stays near it, kneeled on the ground, eyes glued to the heating water.

Y/n chances a look at him, and the sight of him brings a small smile to her lips. He’s just so sweet. And though she would never say it out loud, Y/n admits to herself that, if she had to spend the night with any of her companions, Legolas would be her first and only choice.

Y/n busies herself with spot-cleaning their extra clothes until Legolas has the water heated and pours it in the bath.

Are his cheeks red from embarrassment or the heat, she wonders.

“I-I’ll stay near the bed and-and give you your privacy,” he stutters out, looking anywhere but at her.

Definitely embarrassment. Y/n bites back a smile, grabs her washing supplies, and slips behind the changing screen.

She undresses and slides into the water, sighing contentedly at her first encounter with warm water in weeks. Knowing it won’t last long, she works quickly to scrub the dirt from her skin.

Legolas sits on the edge of the bed, trying to distract himself by cleaning their weapons. He doesn’t know whether he should try and converse with her, or ignore her completely, or if he should just run from the room and never come back?

Valar, how this is difficult!

A knock sounds on the door.

“That was fast,” Y/n muses, to which Legolas hums in agreement.

He sheds his cloak and uses it to conceal the weapons, then meets the barman at the door to collect the dinner plates.

Legolas shuts the door with his foot and turns back towards the bed.

And freezes upon realizing the issue.

Y/n is still in the bath.

Legolas exhales, looking down at the plate in his right hand, then to the changing screen, then quickly to the opposite corner of the room, a blush coming to his cheeks once again.

He closes his eyes, drawing in a breath.

You are a prince, he reminds himself. You lead council meetings, command troops, and have the respect of an entire kingdom. Pull yourself together.

Before he can give himself a chance to lose his nerve, he turns on his heel, and marches towards the changing screen.

“Delivery, My Lady.”

The teasing tone in Legolas’ voice catches Y/n off guard, and she releases a startled laugh. He can’t be serious? But she sees the tips of his boots peeking under the edge of the wooden screen, and decides to play along, trusting him to keep his gaze respectful. “You may approach, Good Sir.”

Legolas peeks around the screen, presenting Y/n her plate of food and making a show of keeping his eyes closed.

Y/n giggles, for just a moment forgetting the awkwardness and the insurmountable pressure of the fate of the world on their shoulders. “Such service! Thank you.”

Legolas bows, and returns with his own food to his spot on the bed. As they eat, they trade stories of the time before they knew each other — Y/n being careful to edit any details that would give her non-Arda origins away. When the food is gone and the bathwater runs cold, Y/n dries, dresses in fresh clothing, and folds back the changing screen.

She and Legolas stare at each other, unsure how to proceed.

“Um, is there anything you needed to do before bed?”

“No.” Legolas shakes his head. “You?”

“No.” A pause. “Well, I guess we should go to sleep, unless you wanted a bath?”

“It’s alright, I washed in the stream earlier.”

Y/n shifts on her feet. “Oh. Right. You sure you don’t want something hot?”

Legolas smiles. “Temperature doesn’t affect ellyn the way it does humans.”

Y/n laughs softly at herself, using it as an opportunity to exhale some of the nerves. “Forgot….I’ll just get the candles, then.”

Legolas stands abruptly. “Let me.” Then, his panicked look fades into a teasing smile. “Humans already have terrible eyesight in the daytime, I fear for your safety if I let you stumble around in the dark.”

“Oh, be quiet,” Y/n laughs, crawling onto the side of the bed closest to her. The mattress probably isn’t the softest in the world, but it’s much better than the freezing ground. And the pillow and blankets are a nice touch. Y/n remembers her fluffy bed back home, and finds herself snuggling deeper into the covers, trying to recreate the memory.

The room goes dark, and moments later, Y/n feels the bed dip beside her.

Legolas slides under the covers wordlessly, keeping as far to the edge as he can. His mind runs a million miles a minute, wondering if he’s making her uncomfortable, noticing how nice her hair smells, thinking how he’s going to kill Boromir and Gimli for putting them in this position, and everything in between.

On the other side of the bed, Y/n stares at the wall, unable to calm down enough to sleep. Never in her life has she been so affected by someone else’s presence. It’s just a bed for Pete’s sake, she’s shared plenty of them before!

But she can feel his warmth from across the mattress, can picture how his chest would feel under her cheek, and fights the urge to cuddle in close to him.

Oh how she is going to murder Gimli and Boromir.

Time passes, neither of them knowing how much.

But after a while, Y/n gives voice to the more anxious thoughts in her head, unable to let them go.

“Are you awake?”

Legolas’ voice is soft, barely a whisper in the late night. “Yes.”

Silence, and Legolas wonders if Y/n has fallen asleep. But a few breaths later, she speaks again, this time, with a measure of fear in her voice.

“Do you think we can do it? Destroy the Ring?”

“We will.” His voice is confident, steady, just the reassurance she needs. “No matter the cost, we will see this Evil defeated.”

Y/n sighs, closing her eyes. She gives into the exhaustion in her bones, in her mind, and sinks into dreamless sleep. Legolas follows not long after, allowing himself only the briefest of looks at his slumbering companion. He holds the image of her peaceful face in his mind as he drifts off.

And if they do find themselves cuddled up in the morning, well, no one needs to know.

A/n See you all tomorrow with part four! Likes, comments, and reblogs are so appreciated. Also, let me know if you would like a tag!

Tag list: @angelic-kisses13 @lainphotography @anangelwhodidntfall @sheriffgerard @themerriweathermage @k-llama-llama

Next part

[ibijau]

Futures Past pt 20 / on AO3

(posting early this week because I might not have time tomorrow)(also, because of the upcoming xisang week, I’m not sure yet if I’ll update this fic next week)

With some help from Su She, Nie Huaisang gets his wangxian ship sailing.

Nie Huaisang guiltily twisted his hands as they left the classroom, already half crying as Wei Wuxian finished retelling his first day of punishment with Lan Wangji. 

"I really am so sorry, Wei-xiong!" he lamented. "I really wish I could help you. Maybe if I could find a way to copy part of the rules for you and pass them to you…" 

"Lan er-gongzi would surely notice," Meng Yao softly objected. "And then you'd both be punished again." 

"Aren't you busy enough with your own punishment anyway?" Jiang Cheng huffed. "You'll be lucky if you can even attend your music lessons with all that extra homework you were given, right?" 

With a miserable sigh, Nie Huaisang nodded. Cheating was more work than he'd thought, and he'd have to find a better way to do it if he were to pass that year. Though really, it had been Lan Wangji’s fault for joining the lectures, which he hadn't done the previous year, and also Wei Wuxian's for taunting Lan Wangji by looking at him. Of course Lan Wangji had gotten curious, and he'd noticed the cheating, and… 

For some reason, Lan Qiren had decided that Wei Wuxian was the instigator in this business, so he'd been punished the hardest. But Nie Huaisang had been given a lot of essays to write, and he didn't dare to ask Lan Xichen to help, fearing to be scolded for his dishonesty. Meng Yao and Jiang Cheng, who hadn't cheated at all, offered little sympathy and even less help, the first because he was still catching up, the second because he didn't feel like it. Hopefully Su She might give a hand, if Nie Huaisang cried a little. 

"It's really not so bad," Wei Wuxian said carelessly. "I won't say that first afternoon in the library with Lan Zhan was fun, he's even more boring than his uncle, but I think I can entertain myself. I bet before the month is over, I can get him to break his self control. Now that'd be fun!" 

Nie Huaisang stopped on his tracks and grabbed him by the arm, not a trace of tears in his eyes. 

"Wei-xiong, why do you have to antagonise him so much?" 

"Why wouldn't I? I'd like to be his friend, but he's too stuck up. Pissing him off is the next best thing." 

Baffled by that logic, Nie Huaisang looked at their two friends. Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes, while Meng Yao was trying his best not to smile. 

"Wei gongzi is like that, don't question it too much. He likes to tease people, and thinks everyone understands it's meant in a friendly manner."

Judging by the tone of his voice, Meng Yao himself had been a victim of that friendly teasing, and that perhap it hadn't gone so smoothly between them. That would explain why Meng Yao seemed to prefer Jiang Cheng's company, who was less fun to have around, but also a little quieter when he wasn’t shouting at Wei Wuxian.

Personally, Nie Huaisang preferred Wei Wuxian out of the three, but was getting a little annoyed at him right at that moment. 

While Jiang Cheng and Meng Yao went their way to enjoy their freedom for the rest of the day (they would waste it studying, they seemed the type), Nie Huaisang decided to accompany Wei Wuxian all the way to the library, so they could chat a little. He still had a plan to put in motion, orders from his future self to obey, and his own natural desire for fun to satisfy.

“I don’t understand why you’re like that with Lan Wangji,” Nie Huaisang said as they took the longest path possible toward the library, trying to keep his tone casual. "If you want to be his friend, there are better ways. Why don't you talk to him nicely?" 

Wei Wuxian did not even hesitate. "I've tried, and he ignores me." 

That was sadly true, as Nie Huaisang had seen a few times. It didn’t help that Wei Wuxian naturally sounded like he was trying to tease people, even when he was sincere. He was so fun to have around that most people didn’t mind it, but for someone like Lan Wangji...

"Well maybe if you apologised to him?" Nie Huaisang suggested.

"I've tried that too, but he thinks I'm insincere.”

"Because you are!" Nie Huaisang pointed out, fighting a smile.

Wei Wuxian just laughed, but that was an answer in itself.

"Please, at least don't make him any angrier," Nie Huaisang pleaded. "He'll never be your friend otherwise!" 

Hearing him get so distressed about that, Wei Wuxian stopped in his tracks, his expression more serious than Nie Huaisang had ever seen so far. He was a little scary like that, something about his height and the shape of his eyes making him look cold and distant when he wasn’t grinning and laughing.

"Listen, Nie-xiong,” Wei Wuxian said in a voice that had lost some of its warmth. “I want to be his friend, sure. I think there's something interesting about him, definitely. I’d really like it if I could be close to Lan Zhan, and given the chance I’ll do it for sure. But if he only becomes friends with me because I start acting like someone I'm not, then we're not really friends, and it's not worth the effort."

“Wei-xiong, I didn’t expect you to be wise like that,” Nie Huaisang whispered, a little awed.

“Only you would find that wise,” Wei Wuxian mocked, and Nie Huaisang found that he could breathe a little more easily now that the other boy was laughing again. “If Jiang Cheng heard me, he’d say that my personality is too awful for anyone to like me! And Meng Yao would say something about compromises. I’m pretty sure they’re the wise ones, but I just don’t feel like acting so seriously.”

Nie Huaisang grinned, a little envious of such a bold way of living. He was not always likeable, according to a lot of people (himself included, when it came to the man he was supposed to become), and so he would never have expected people to fully like him as he was. Nobody except his brother, who had little choice in the matter, and maybe Su She who probably felt like he couldn’t be too picky when it came to friends, and… well, Lan Xichen seemed to like him as he was, too, but that was just because he was so nice.

It was so bold of Wei Wuxian to expect to be fully accepted as he was. But then again, Lan Wangji also wasn’t the sort to make efforts to get others to like him, so at least they had that in common.

As they arrived near the library, the topic had to be dropped. Wei Wuxian, with a grimace of fake agony, went inside to sit with Lan Wangji, while Nie Huaisang had the pleasant surprise of finding Su She about to leave the library, and free to spend some time with him. Lan Wangji had asked for his help to put some order in a section of the building while waiting for Wei Wuxian to arrive, and Su She couldn’t decide if he was flattered or annoyed that the request had been made to him rather than another disciple.

Su She ranted about that for a little bit as they walked away from the library, before complaining about his classes, and then about a letter from his mother who wanted him to send home some talismans because she was still convinced their house was haunted even thought he’d visited during winter and hadn’t noticed anything amiss. Nie Huaisang listened, and even reacted here and there, but couldn’t quite focus on his friend’s problem that day. Su She noticed of course, and asked what hung so heavy on his mind that he couldn’t even laugh at his description of a clearly fake haunting.

“I might have a silly question to ask you,” Nie Huaisang replied. “But please, don’t make fun of me for it. It’s kind of important, and I think you could really help me.”

“That sounds very worrying, but fine, ask me.”

"How would one seduce a Lan?" 

Su She gave him such a long, serious look, that Nie Huaisang started feeling he’d rather have been laughed at after all.

"So you're finally doing something about Lan gongzi?” Su She asked. “About time, it was getting annoying how clueless you are. And, well, if you want my opinion…" 

"Oh, no, this is about Lan Wangji, not Xichen-gege!" 

Su She stopped walking and fell silent for a moment, his expression turning complicated. He looked as if he’d eaten a very sour lemon that also happened to be moldy, all while there was a cut in his mouth.

"Lan er-gongzi? Really?"

"Yes. See, I think Wei-xiong and him could be good friends,” Nie Huaisang quickly explained, startled by that strong reaction, “so of course I want to help. But they're the two most difficult people in the world, you know? Xichen-gege is helping, but a second opinion never hurts." 

"Ah, it's just that," Su She said, instantly relaxing. 

He resumed walking away from the library, and Nie Huaisang followed.

"Well, yeah. Why did you think I needed help about Xichen-gege?" 

Su She hesitated, and even opened his mouth a few times to say something. Eventually he frowned and shrugged.

"If you're too stupid, it's not my problem,” he said. “Let's talk about those other two instead, since you’re so preoccupied. Aside from being equally good at fighting, what do they have in common?" 

Nie Huaisang crossed his arms on his chest and shook his head.

"Nothing at all." 

Su She nodded.

"Then I guess they need to fight again. Maybe in public."

"You think that'd help if they had an audience?" Nie Huaisang wondered.

"No idea,” Su She said with a wicked grin, “but I'd like to see Lan er-gongzi in a fight that makes him break a sweat."

Nie Huaisang poked him in the ribs.

"Mean. But… Wei-xiong can be pretty full of himself,” he admitted. “I guess I'd also like to see if he's as good as he thinks. How to get them to fight though?"

They’d reached a more isolated part of the Cloud Recesses, a small garden that rarely saw much use, just at the border to the wilderness. They found a bench, and after removing some dead leaves they sat there to continue chatting in peace.

"In two days, you get a day off from lectures, right?” Su She asked. “Get your Wei-xiong to the training grounds after lunch. Lan er-gongzi is always there at that time on a free day, and I'll do my best to be as well. It'll be pretty easy to get them to spar." 

"Su-xiong you're just the best!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed, hugging his friend who barely even grumbled against such effusions. “What would I do without you?" 

"You'd be less efficient for sure. Now can we talk about something less boring than Lan er-gongzi?”

“Yes, yes! Tell me more about your parents’ haunting, I’ll really listen now! If it’s not a ghost, then what is it?”

Pleased to return to a more fun subject, Su She started discussing his theory about some wild cats and a few squirrels that he suspected to have found their way into the currently disused ‘haunted’ room, and talked about it with such indignation that Nie Huaisang was soon in tears from how hard he laughed.

-

Although nobody had been warned of the duel to come, a small crowd had quickly assembled around the training grounds once it became understood that Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian were having a friendly fight. They were both reputed to be insanely skilled after all, and rumours about their first duel under the moonlight had spread fast. 

So far, Nie Huaisang had to admit that both boy's reputation was deserved. If anything, they were both more talented than he would have expected. They exchanged blows and parried them as if it were easier than breathing, making for a beautiful show. Su She, who stood on Nie Huaisang's right at the very edge of the training grounds, appeared consumed with admiration and envy. He'd fallen silent a while ago, and perhaps regretted this fight he'd helped organise. 

On Nie Huaisang's left, Jin Zixuan was almost as upset, just a little better at concealing it. 

"I can't believe such talent has been wasted and given to the world's most obnoxious person," he complained as Wei Wuxian dodged a blow. 

"Apparently, that's also Lan Wangji’s opinion," Nie Huaisang cheerfully replied. "But I think he's warming up to Wei-xiong now." 

Lan Wangji, after a moment of surprise at the way Wei Wuxian had avoided his attack, lunged at him again with renewed vigour. 

"Yes, I can see they're on their way to becoming best friends," Jin Zixuan sneered. "Well, that's getting boring. I was hoping to see Wei Wuxian put in his place, but now he's just going to be more insufferable. I'll see you later, Nie gongzi." 

He left, but the spot next to Nie Huaisang didn't remain empty for very long. Lan Xichen quickly made his way there. Nie Huaisang immediately smiled at him, but unlike the rest of them, Lan Xichen didn't appear to pleased by the show. 

"Huaisang what's going on here?" he asked. "What are they fighting about? Did something happen?" 

"Oh they're just fighting for the sake of it!" Nie Huaisang cheerfully explained, only for Lan Xichen to look even more distressed. 

"Wangji got into a fight without reason? How?" 

Alerted by his tone, Su She tore his eyes from the fight and gave Lan Xichen a quick bow. 

"Lan gongzi needs not worry. They're not actually fighting, this is only a friendly spar." 

"Yes, we thought it'd be good for them, so we made it happen," Nie Huaisang confirmed. “I think it’s going great! Wei-xiong looks like he’s having the time of his life!”

Reassured that no rules were broken and no serious harm was intended by either party, Lan Xichen finally properly looked at the ongoing duel. He observed the two fighters for a moment before eventually nodding.

“Wangji too is enjoying this,” he said after some consideration. “I’m glad for him. It is so rare for him to get an opponent of his level. Other juniors are rarely a match, and adults won’t spar with him because they don’t want to lose to someone so young. You had a good idea, Huaisang.”

“Oh, that wasn’t even my idea,” Nie Huaisang replied, beaming. “It was Su-xiong who suggested it, and who asked to see them spar.”

Lan Xichen turned his attention to Su She, who appeared a little uncomfortable. Nie Huaisang realised, a little late, that scheming to make people fight, even in a friendly manner, was probably against some of Gusu Lan rules.

“I am glad you have such a good friend helping you set your plan in motion,” Lan Xichen said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Still, don’t drag him into too much mischief. I would be very disappointed in you, Huaisang, if you caused Su-shidi to get in trouble. He’s worked so hard to prove himself to our teachers, let’s not ruin his efforts just because you like to have a little too much fun.”

“Of course not!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed. “Su-xiong, you wouldn’t let me cause you real problems, right?”

“I only agree with Nie gongzi’s ideas if they don’t contradict the rules,” Su She confirmed, bowing again toward Lan Xichen. “And I wouldn’t let Nie gongzi do anything dangerous or ill-advised. Lan gongzi can be at peace, I won’t let anything happen to his friend.”

Lan Xichen smiled stiffly. 

"I know I can trust Su-shidi to take good care of Nie gongzi. I am… quite happy to leave him in your hands, where I know he'll be safe." 

It was a rather odd way to say that, and there was something a little too cold in Lan Xichen’s tone which did not quite please Nie Huaisang. But Su She himself seemed unbothered, so this might just have been Nie Huaisang imagining things. It was probably just that Lan Xichen still remained doubtful regarding Lan Wangji’s potential friendship with Wei Wuxian, which had to affect his mood.

But things really were going quite well. In fact, they were going much better than Nie Huaisang had hoped. After fighting a little more, Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian eventually stopped when a Lan teacher approached them to explain that he needed the training grounds for his own class. There didn’t appear to be a clear winner between them, as far as Nie Huaisang could say. Later, when he asked Su She, his friend gave his more expert opinion that although they had completely different fighting styles, they were equals in strength and capacity. It would be interesting, he said, to see them fight side by side instead of against each other.

For now though, they politely bowed to each other, and Wei Wuxian, grinning more brightly than Nie Huaisang had ever seen him yet, asked if they might train together again in the future.

It was quite funny to see Lan Wangji’s conflicted expression. On one hand, Wei Wuxian was nearly a criminal in his eyes, who had disrespected his uncle, broken many rules, and cheated during an exam, all of which was unforgivable and marked Wei Wuxian as beneath his consideration. But at the same time, this looked to have been a very fun sparring session, Lan Wangji had been forced to use all his skill to keep up with his opponent, and that was something too precious to be easily dismissed.

At a loss, Lan Wangji turned to look at his brother, hoping for guidance. Lan Xichen, in turn, only briefly glanced at Nie Huaisang before nodding at his brother with an encouraging smile.

“Behave in class,” Lan Wangji ordered with a slight frown, before turning away.

Wei Wuxian looked disappointed by what he must have mistaken for rejection, but Nie Huaisang saw that answer for what it was and ran to his friend to explain that Lan Wangji had, in fact, very warmly agreed to fight him again.

[nctsjiho]

Alternate Universe

warnings: mention of COVID. This is was meant to be pure fluff ngl, but you might’ve guessed it, that’s not how it turned out.

era: May 2021

❀ During a sleepover in JiHo’s new apartment, she and Renjun imagine how life would be if NCT never met each other

“Okay, but with space being infinitely big, who says there can’t be multiple universes. And maybe, one of those universes could be an alternate universe similar to ours.” JiHo hummed as she listened to Renjun’s rant - which had been going on for about 30 minutes at this point. She pulled her blanket up to her chin and closed her eyes. “Do you think we’d still have met in that universe? Do you think NCT exists there?”

JiHo let out a deep sigh, “Go to sleep Renjun, it’s already past 1.” She turned her head to look at Renjun who was slightly pouting and she let out a small chuckle. “I just wonder how things would’ve been if we hadn’t met each other.” Renjun then locked eyes with the girl. “Any of us.”

Sitting up straight against the arm rest of her new L-shaped couch, JiHo stretched her arms. Renjun mirrored her action on the other end of the couch, curious as to why JiHo did so, she had been nagging him to shut up and sleep earlier anyway.

“As for me...” She trailed off. Renjun took notice of how JiHo’s eyes had focused on nothing particular. Even in the dimly lit room he could see how her eyes looked so bright yet charming. He never told anyone, but JiHo’s greenish eyes were one of his favourite things to look at. They were so pretty and interesting. Not only was she the only member who didn’t have just brown eyes, but something about them had him get lost in her eyes whenever he got the chance to look at them closely.

JiHo coughed before continuing. “I’d be in France right now. Probably had a reckless childhood with my weird friends and helping out at my grandparents’ pension.” Even though Renjun felt sad that he wasn’t part of that alternate-universe-childhood, he couldn’t help but smile when JiHo did. Reminiscing the childhood she had and imagining how it would’ve continued if she’d never gone to Korea to become an idol made her feel nostalgic in a sense. She didn’t get to experience it, but she could imagine it as if it really happened.

“I’d probably have a dog and live a normal middle-class, country side, family and friends oriented life. Maybe continued on with rope skipping and actually go semi-professional.” She contently sighed. “What about you?” JiHo’s eyes fell on Renjun’s shadowy figure. The light coming from the window only hit the far side of his body, so JiHo couldn’t really make out much of his appearance.

“I don’t know. I actually don’t know.” JiHo laughed softly. “Oh, don’t tell me you theorised about aliens, alternate universes, ghost, any kind of supernatural, but you’ve never thought about life without NCT?” Her mocking, yet innocently playful tone elicited a chuckle from him. “I guess I would’ve went on with school and worked hard to get into a good university so I could get a good job.”

“And your art? You’re really talented, you could do something with that.” The unexpected compliment casted a pink tinge on Renjun’s cheeks and he was so happy JiHo couldn’t make it out in the darkness of the room. “Hm. Maybe.” He hummed bashfully.

The two sit in silence for a bit before Renjun speaks up again. “How is it living here?” The sudden break in silence makes JiHo jump the tinniest bit and her head quickly turns to face Renjun. He laughs. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

His eyes scan the room, or at least what he can see of it. He already got used to the dark, so he could the silhouettes of all the furniture in the spacious apartment. The living room, kitchen and dining era was bigger than those in most of the NCT dorms, but this apartment only had 2 bedrooms, a bathroom, a toilet and a small dressing room - it might as well just be a closet. It looked way more trendy than his dorm. “Esteem must have some good money.” He thought.

“It looks nice.” He then looked at JiHo, awaiting her response. “It looks nice yeah.” Her voice sounded way less chipper than it did before. “Why? Do you not like it?” Once again, JiHo’s head snaps up. “No, I do like it. It’s pretty big, not too much furniture so it’s easy to clean. My bedroom is big enough for a queen size bed. It’s nice.” “You don’t seem too happy about it though.”

Jiho sighed and let her body fall back down in a lying position on the couch. “It’s lonely.” She stated simply. No other explanation, just those two words. “What about your manager?” Renjun asked, but then he remembered. He, and no one of the other members who have visited her over the past two weeks had really seen her manager. Maybe one or twice in passing, but the manager wasn’t in the apartment for more than an hour whenever they came over.

A groan escaped the sleepy girl’s lips as she stretched her arms out in front of her. “She’s still managing for another talent under Esteem. And that person has a lot of schedules currently, so my manager is just out working all the time.” “But we come by often, and you come over to the dorms as well.” JiHo nodded, not necessarily for Renjun to see, she didn’t think he would either way, but he did. “So?” “It’s only the second time someone stayed over here. Which I really enjoy by the way.” She quickly added as not to offend Renjun because of her rather gloomy tone.

“It’s just that whenever I come back home, whether it’s from the company or from your guys’ dorms, I just get hit by the fact that I’m alone in this apartment.” Renjun sympathised with the girl, understanding why it could make her feel lonely. “Not only that, it also makes me realise that NCT really is all I have. I don’t have many other friends, or at least not those who I hang out with. It’s only you guys.”

Not wanting to face Renjun, whether he was able to see the disheartened look on her face or not, JiHo pulled her blanket up to her chin again. “My family lives about 12 plus hours away by plane. I haven’t seen them in six years, and quite frankly, I’m not sure when I get to see them again.”

Renjun felt his stomach sink a little as JiHo slowly lost her ability to hide her real feelings. Each word sounded more and more painful to utter, sounded like it took more energy, it just felt so sad.

In an attempt to cheer JiHo up, Renjun spoke up. “Hey, once COVID is over, you should just get on a plane and visit them.” JiHo let out a bitter laugh and it makes Renjun’s heart clench. Did he say something wrong?

“You don’t think that in those six years I could’ve just gotten on a plane and visited them?” JiHo asked, her tone sounding just as, if not more bitter then her laugh just a second earlier. “Don’t you think that my family could’ve just jumped on a plane and visited me?” She scoffed. Of course it wasn’t directed to Renjun, rather the situation itself, but the boy couldn’t help but feel a bit targeted. He didn’t blame her though, it must of been so frustrating for her.

“Do you mind me asking why it didn’t happen then?” JiHo looked at Renjun, who had pushed himself up further on the couch, his legs now crossed in front of him. “There’s literally no reason it didn’t happen before. It doesn’t make sense that I never went back or that my family never came here. It’s just like this.” “But- How?” Renjun felt so confused, it really didn’t make sense.

JiHo sat up as well and stared out in front of her at the window. “Whenever I wanted to go SM or the managers always made up some excuse. It was either schedule conflict, or I had problems with my visa in my trainee days, or I had a last minute meeting. SM never let me buy my family plane tickets and whenever they would tell me they’d come visit, they would always cancel last minute for something that happened. After a while I just stopped asking.” Renjun carefully stood up after JiHo’s confession. “And after a while, my family stopped planning to come.”

It went unnoticed by JiHo that Renjun had moved over towards her. She looked to the side to see her friend already sit next to her on the couch. “I didn’t know. I’m so so sorry.” JiHo shook her head. “It’s not your fault.” She responded, a silence fell over them once again.

Renjun watched as the gears inside of Jiho’s head kept turning. He felt so bad for everything she had to go through is silence. Everything she hid from everyone. All of it was just extra weight in her backpack full of worries and burdens.

He grabbed her hand which had fallen limply next to her lap. The touch making her snap out of her thoughts. “It just doesn’t make any sense.” She kept shaking her head. “Someone inside of SM must have been talking to my family, or maybe they felt betrayed when I left to Korea-” “Never.” Renjun interrupted, not wanting JiHo to even entertain that thought. “Maybe they got mad that I kept cancelling my visits.” Her head still continued shaking from left to right as if she was in denial, and to be honest she was. “Make it make sense Renjun.” Her voice cracked as her eyes locked with Renjun’s.

The same eyes that seemed to light up the dark room earlier felt devoid from all it’s usual brightness and youthfulness. On most days the green in her eyes reminded Renjun of jade, cool and charming, on other days it reminded him of nature, energetic and playful, but right now the green was so dull and was barely visible between the brown colour of the rest of her irises.

Renjun squeezed JiHo’s hand lightly. “I’m so sorry JiHo, I don’t know.” This causes JiHo to nod and let her eyes wander back to the window. “If I could I’d move back in with Haechan and the boys.” Renjun’s eyes stayed focussed on JiHo’s hand. It made him happy that her dainty fingers fit perfectly interlaced with his. The boy was used to holding for example Jisung’s hand, which was way bigger than his own and even though they fit into his as well, it was a different kind of fit. With JiHo’s hand he felt a sense of protectiveness and responsibility, like he had to be the one to make sure JiHo wouldn’t get hurt.

“Chenle doesn’t live with you guys, but at least when he goes home he has his family. Whether it’s his parents or his aunt, he has family with him all the time. As for me...” She trailed off. “This place doesn’t feel like a home at all. I was perfectly happy living with the boys. You guys are all the family I have here.” JiHo released a big breath as if she had just done a physical exercise that required a lot of energy.

Her eyes then fell onto Renjun and her intertwined hands, smiling at the way Renjun absentmindedly drew hearts on the back of her hand. “I love my parents and grandparents. I really do.” Renjun got startled by JiHo’s desperate tone, as if she was trying to prove him of her love for her family. “I know-” “I would like to believe I’d do anything to see them.” “And you would.” Renjun smiled assuring, even if his smile showed sadness. “I don’t think that’s true Renjun.”

JiHo’s breath hitched for a second before she made eye contact with her worried friend. “I could’ve just went. I could’ve not listened to SM and went. If I truly loved my family as much-” “Don’t say that JiHo.” Renjun scolded carefully, but JiHo just shook her head. “If I loved them so much, wouldn’t I have done it? I got on a plane to China for Xiaojun behind our managers back once for God’s sake.” She took a few seconds to calm her breathing. “Why haven’t I gone and visited my family?”

“You’re scared.” JiHo’s eyes widened in confusion. “What?” “You’re scared aren’t you? That going back might not be what you imagined it to be. But why does that matter? It’s your family, they love you and miss you just as much as you love and miss them.”

A wave of realisation hit JiHo and she felt tears well up in her eyes. Throwing her head back she tried her best to stop them from flowing and from more forming in her eyes.

Once the tears subsided she looked at Renjun who had a soft smile on his lips. “I’m scared that if I go back, that I’ll realise how much I actually missed my family.” Renjun laughed slightly amused. “What’s wrong with that?” “If I go...” She started and Renjun nodded along with her words, yet his smile faded as soon as JiHo uttered her next words.

“I might realise I don’t want to come back here again.”

---

Side Note: I wanted to write for Renjun for soooo long! This was based on a cute/funny prompt I found on Tumblr, but literally a few paragraphs in and my mind went “let’s make it a bit angsty���. This might be one, if not my favourite writing I’ve done so far <3 I hope you all liked it as well.

I know my content hasn’t been as good lately so I hope this writing will get me back on track a bit. I definitely have to do something about my inability to think of good titles tho O.O

I hope you have a nice day/evening/night <3

[shortyisweird9]

'Lonely ghost serie'

An interesting night- part II

Tw⚠️: swearing

Corpse stretched as he set up his work station, Pewds was starting another live stream and invited him on and since sleep won't show up anytime soon, he hopped on without much thinking.

He smiled when his friends started to greet each other and him.

"Guys, you saw the video I send you ,right?" Lily asked.

"Yeah but I couldn't get in touch with ghost ,her friend was kind to let me know she might not feel comfortable doing a livestream with complete strangers. "Jack said as the others puffed in disappointment.

"That sucks. I wanted to see if she could have kill us all." Grease spoke as he opens a can of soda.

"You wanted to be killed by her?!"

They laughed as Grease quickly defended himself.

"Hey-Hey, to be killed by someone with that skill is a privilege."

"Simp." Jason concluded.

Their laughter ran wilde as Grease again began to shout.

"Hey,Lily?"

"Yes, Rae?"

"You been quiet. Something's wrong?"

"Whenever you are ready." She simply said, confusing them.

"W-What? Lily are you okay-"

"Hello,gents!"

It was her.

"GHOST?"

"Oh my god..."

"HOW but Jack said-"

"Guys ,guys ,please don't overwhelm." Lily again said, calming the both parties.

"Right ,sorry. Anyway, top of morning to yah ,ghost."

He could hear her swallowing her nerves before she cleared her voice, tingles ran down his back when the Reaper like tune hit his headphones.

"Hello!...This is awkward. Sorry."

They giggled with her as she moved in her chair.

"Ghost? "

"Yeah?"

"Your friend said you will not feel comfortable enough to join us today."

"Well, it's raining so that puts me at ease and your friend, Lily, was very convincing on bring me here."

"*giggle* I just showed you picture of my friends' pets."

"...As I said before, very convincing."

They always laughed especially when the stranger proved to be funny enough to bring that chuckle out of them.

"So ready to rock?"

"Let's roll."

————————————————————

The match was entertaining with couple of close calls, too close for your liking. Corpse was on you the entire time so to pay him for his diligence, you killed him first as he struggled to swipe that damn key card.

Then Jason, then Jack, Rae proved to be a bit harder to kill but you got her in O2, Lily was easy, Sykkuno was all confuse as he watched the crewmates die with him doing nothing, Pewds and Mark were a game of venting and killing swiftly. Speed was the key of your success of killing them all.

You could see they have their microphones on but no one said a thing.

The mischievous smirk that was plastered on your face grew when sounds of confusion came from Jack. Always the loud ones reveal the most.

"Whaaaat?"

"What the fuck?"

"I literally didn't have time to even kill any of you. Ghost came in like: slash ,slash, kill,kill."

You finally cracked at the ridiculous sounds Sykkuno made, a poor imitation of the sabers from Star wars.

"Hahaha"

He heard your laugh, he like the sound of it , the easiness and the innocence it held even though you killed all of them without mercy. What he didn't know if he liked was the stirring in his stomach cause by it. The tightness in his breath, the long smile and the bouncing of his legs as a result of hearing it.

He just shook his curls before paying attention to the group again, you were being put in the spotlight, something he cringed at as he recalled the painful experiences he had while being put under light.

"So, ghost?"

"Yes ,Jason?"

A whine came from the man known now as a simp for deep voices. You giggled, shaking your head and screaming when the black pair of headphones fell down your lap. Luckily you had the mic muted. That will be embarrassing...

You fixed your long hair, putting it behind your ears careful to not tug on your fresh piercings , your headphones back on the top ,you dived right back.

"Can you tell us about yourself?"

"Hmm..what do you want to know?"

You heard him sucking in a breath and to be honest you couldn't blame him, the voice was hot.

"Um ...anything. "

You giggled half embarrassed, half amusement by the pitch his voice turned to ,excited to hear whatever you may answer.

"Oh,okay. Um...My piercings hurt. My right leg is bouncing like crazy and um...I crave jelly candy."

"Piercings?"

"Yeah, my pal just did on my right three helix piercings: forward, mid and low. Plus the industrial on my left ear iches a bit."

"Oh, I am sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about, Jas. Thanks for asking by the way."

"Oh, don't worry. Do you have any others?"

"Um..yeah. On the right ear ,I have..um. helix , flat, rook and upper. Left ahh..industrial,helix and orbital."

"Wow, th-that's a lot."

"Hah, I just told you about my ears."

A choke cane from him ,probably he was drinking something. It had ice though, you could hear the ice hitting the metal of the glass.

The man started to choke and cough ,making you and the others who listened patiently on your convo worried.

"Easy there ,mate."

"Jay, you good?"

"Easy there ,buddy."

"I-I'm *cough* I am fine. You have MORE?!"

"Yeah ,three on the upper part of my right eyebrow and a ring on the left one."

"Jesus. " He said, calming himself at last.

"Yeah,*giggle*. I also plan to slit my tongue in two."

"Oh, yeah cool.WHAT?!"

————————————————————

The next game you were imposter again but this time Corpse was your sidekick. Or were you his?

Anyway, you decided to let him do more of the killing,believe it or not , you weren't the blood thirsty monster the chat thought of you, all in a joking manner of course. Sabotage and let Corpse do his Kiss of death. Seeing couple of his streams ,you hoped he wasn't too nervous.

"Alright guys, ghost is imposter with us so this time I have to be more careful. They will probably suspect her to be imposter again . Sorry I can't see your message, I need to concentrate on this."

Proving his theory , ghost just sabotaged as she did fake tasks, being a guardian of Lily as he killed so far Mark and Toast.

"W-Where was the body?" His voice came of a bit more nervous then usual.

"In the nav." Dave answered.

"You good ,Corpse?"

He heard you ask ,you were more observant than the others who either lost themselves in the safety feeling of the match or the euphoria of the game, you always pointed suspicious behaviours of the others when they accused him of being imposter. He liked that, gave him time to calm his raging heart.

"Y-Yeah..*cough* I mean yeah, I am good. H-How about you?"

Fuck...

He didn't even want to catch a glimpse of the chat ,having a hunch of what they may be inferring.

"You seem shaky, Corpse. Something happened?"

He didn't needed to see Sean's face to know it will matched a lenny one. Finding an excuse so he is spared of the teasing and/or the allegations he is imposter, is a must.

"Yeah, I am just...ah...freezing. It's cold here. Brr. Brr."

They laughed at his poor attempt to sound like a freezing popsicle, your laugh put him more at ease. He knew however that his attempt of shifting the suspension failed, too bad he wanted to play more with you. I guess the roles are switching.

"He sound sus ,guys. Should we vote him out?"

"Wow, Lily. Thanks."

The girl giggling only stopped when you started speaking.

"He's not sus, guys. He's just a dork ,a stick with crippling anxiety and honestly same."

God, he wished he could fist bump you right now.

"More like a branch but who we voting then?" Sean asked.

" SPEEDRUN!"

Felix sealed his faith however. Your work only left him flustered and with a derpy smile , his honour lost in the vacuum space.

...............CORPSE was ejected.............

"Well shit. Anyway ,guys. Let me see what you been talking about? And I better not see any 'SIMP' comments. "

————————————————————

"How?! How the fuck?! You tricked me!" Lily screamed at you for your betrayal.

"Wow, so now I have big trust issues with ghost." Grease announced.

"Deep mommy, no." Jason said ,bringing a laugh out of you for the thousand of time.

You started to like this guy, he and Corpse will be spared next time you are imposter.

"Sorry ,guys-"

"Who told you,you are allowed to do that?" Pewds shouted at you in a heated but not menacing tone.

"You didn't let me finish."

You took a sip out of your ice tea.

"RIP to ya'll but I am different. Not my fault the only guy I take advices from is Doomguy. And as the legend would say: Rip and tear."

"OH MY FUCK-"

You lowered your mic as they screamed in disbelief ,Corpse didn't said anything however. You were curious as to why?

"Corpse?"

"Yeah ,baby?"

Woah. That caught you out of guard. Like the warmth in your olive cheeks and the deliciously painful and frightening feeling of twisting in your stomach.

"Um..."

You blinked, no words head's empty.

"Oh, shit. Sorry, ghost. I didn't meant to make you feel weird."

"No,no. I am good. Ey, Jas?"

"Yes ,hun?"

"Do you take applications for your Corpse fan club?"

Jesus, what is this night even?

————————————————————

Hey, guys!💖

Hope you enjoyed the second part of the serie.

Anyway have a nice day/night!🌙🌌

Tagged 💖💖: @moolujk

[colorseeingchick]

Onigiri and Second Chances

Pairing: Osamu Miya x Reader

Summary: The Black Jackals are hosting a Christmas party, and Osamu agrees to come. But there’s some details Atsumu forgot to tell him- 1, he’s supposed to mass-make Onigiri for the party, and 2, a figure from his past is making a reappearance. 

Warnings: Mostly Fluff, some Angst, suggestive content, swearing 

Word Count: 3.7k 

A/N: Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays everyone! This is far from my best work but I hope its fun regardless !

Osamu swears he can see his breath crystalize before him in his kitchen as he plots the murder of his damned brother. 

Well, plotting his brother’s demise is currently secondary to the molding of the  onigiri in his hand. It feels odd, the contrast between the soft, squishy rice warming his palms as he meticulously works at it and the prickly cold that bites his forearms, bare and at the mercy of the cold air of his kitchen, unprotected by his rolled up sleeves. 

Now, you probably have a lot of questions! 

Why’s Osamu Miya making some lip-smacking onigiri at 4 pm on Christmas Eve? 

Because his bitch of a brother tricked him.

Why’s he making 70? 

Ask Atsumu smh (if it’s not abundantly clear, my boy Osamu is VERY salty).

Has he been here for like, 3 hours already? 

Yeah, he sure as hell has. 

Will he be here for a good few more?

Uh huh. 

Why? 

Well, Osamu doesn’t take onigiri lightly. 1. If he’s gonna make em for Atsumu’s party, he was gonna do em right. Even though Atsumu forgot to mention that onigiri was gonna be the special dish to Osamu- the one making the onigiri- until 10 am the day of, (I’m sure y’all get why Osamu is mad now) there wasn’t a chance in hell he was gonna let his dishes fall flat, especially for a party this big. He has a bunch of specialty flavors he’s been wanting to showcase anyways, and in the process of making so many for such a large number, he knows it’s easy to get lost in a ‘quantity over quality’ mindset. No matter the amount, Onigiri Miya’s quality never wavers (A/N: period king as you should). 

But the AC being broken? That’s not a part of his plan. And it was just kinda, icing on his metaphorical cake of reasons why he’s pissed as hell right now. It makes him question if all this effort is really worth it, at least for tonight. 

Osamu’s initially thought that, because his brother’s the host for this party, that maybe he should try to spruce up a bit, come in lookin like an acceptable counterpart to his charismatic, showy brother. But now? He’ll realistically be here in this kitchen till the time of the party, so he’ll show up lookin a lil rough. Effort that should’ve gone into his looks is not being put into his food.  If Atsumu complains, Osamu will not hesitate to shove an onigiri up his-

It’s whatever. It’s not like he has anyone he needs to impress there anyways. He’s just the onigiri twin tonight. 

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The party is in full swing when Osamu arrives. But unlike Atsumu’s usual parties, the music wasn’t blaring- it’s festive and moderate. And despite being ‘party’ attire, everyone seems a little less scandalous. I guess that’s natural when some business representatives and officials from the volleyball world are also present. Unfortunately, this does mean that Osamu is the most underdressed, but he’s come to terms with it. 

But knowing his brother, there’s no way a Miya party would be fully professional. There has to be some element of childishness or stupidity somewhere in this party-

And Osamu gets his answer when he looks up. 

Mistletoe. And lots of it. It’s not everywhere everywhere. But there’s more than one, and they are seemingly strategically placed. 

Osamu chuckles. Leave it to his brother to try and start shit. All this means is that he has to be careful to not end up in the wrong spot with some random person. He’ll be fine. 

Giant container filled with onigiri in hand, he maneuvers his way to the kitchen, nodding and smiling at his acquaintances as he goes. As he’s about to step onto the cold tile of the kitchen, he stops dead in his tracks. 

Fuck his brother. 

He didn’t say anything about you being here. Somebody’ll have to stop him from slugging his asshat of a twin across the face. 

“SAMMMMUUUU!!!!!” Speak of the devil. 

Atsumu slings his arm over his twin’s shoulder,  a cup in his other hand.

“Are ya drunk?” 

“Huh? No. Gotta keep it together! I’m the host after all.” Atsumu smiles wide, rather stupidly. 

“Great. If yer sober, that means I can beat the ever livin’ shit outta ya and yer gonna remember.” 

“Oi, oi, what did I do!? Ya just got here!” Fear shined Atsumu’s bright eyes. 

“If you could like, not beat my boyfriend up, I’d appreciate it a bit, Samu-kun,” a female voice gently chimes in. 

“Homura-chan, hello.” Osamu’s shoulders relax as his brother’s level-headed girlfriend pops up in between the two, giving Osamu a side hug only to watch Atsumu pout. 

“Homura…” Atsumu’s whine is enough for her to placate him with a tight hug, but she continues to face Osamu. 

“Why do you wanna kill him this time? Not that you’re wrong for wanting to. I’m just curious.”

“Hey!”

“He didn’t tell me they were gon be here.” Osamu’s eyes shift to you, laughing in the kitchen, talking to Hinata and Bokuto, while filling cups with hot chocolate. 

“Oh I thought you were gonna yell at him for not telling you about the onigiris till this morning.”

“That too.”

“HEY!” 

“But I guess it’s my fault they’re here. I invited them, they are my best friend after all. But I should have told you. I’m sorry, Samu.”

“No, no. Its fine Homura-chan. I just…” 

Osamu doesn’t know how to verbalize it. He’s had a crush on you since 2nd year, and it didn’t go anywhere even through college. You two knew each other pretty well, and he almost asked you out. Emphasis on almost. Being honest, he abandoned ship when he saw some guy kissing you after class one day- he figured he had waited for too long. He cut off communication with you soon after, despite your attempts to reach out. Homura had time and time again reminded Osamu that you didn’t hate him, and he did trust her. But that didn’t help him shake off the feeling you did, and always would, resent him. 

It also did not help that his stomach jumped the moment he heard your beautiful laugh resonate in the kitchen, or that his face heated up when he saw you warmly hug your cup of hot chocolate, sipping it so gently. So cute. 

He’s still whipped. Fuck. 

Homura nudges his shoulder, one hand intertwined with Atsumu’s. “We’re not gonna make you talk to them-”

“maybe...” adds in Atsumu.

“-But if they come up to ya, maybe it won’t be the worst thing.”

Osamu looks down, tightly gripping the strap attached to his container. “Okay,” he quietly agrees.

Atsumu slaps his brother’s shoulder with a smile and comments, “ya know where my clothes are, grab em if ya need em” before taking his leave to go entertain other guests.

“I’m assuming you have more containers?” Homura asks, standing by Osamu’s side.

“70 onigiris definitely do not fit in here.” Osamu smiles with his quip, and she smiles back. 

“Figured. I’ll help ya grab the rest. Go and put that down first.” She heads towards the front door, leaving him in the doorway. 

He takes a deep breath before recomposing himself, restoring his classic blank n’ bored expression. He strides into the kitchen, placing the black container down softly and attracts eyes in the process, including yours. He feels your soft gaze somehow dig into the back of his head once he swiftly turns around, walking away back to the front door. As he steps back into the winter breeze, he’s met with Homura’s knowing gaze. 

“They’re single, ya know.” 

Osamu huffs out cold hair, eyes closing at the sting of the wind. And somehow, the cold sting filling his lungs eased the fear in his stomach. 

“I look like shit.”

“Atsu said you could take his clothes. Let’s go pick somethin’ nice out for ya.” 

This is gonna be a long night. 

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

Osamu sits himself on the couch, a glass of champagne in one hand. Atsumu’s maroon button-up faintly smells like his signature cologne, and although he usually hates it, something about it helps Osamu channel his brother’s cockiness confidence, which feels very helpful right about now. 

But the confidence he’s tryna channel can only do so much. Suna and Akaashi are both worried as they watch Osamu space out mid conversation. Its far from normal. Suna knows exactly what’s on his best friend’s mind, while Akaashi is astute enough to make a guess. 

“Myaa-sam.” Akaashi gently calls to Osamu. No response. 

So Suna gives him a nice kick. 

“Oi!” Osamu rubs his shin. 

“Talk to them, before ya go crazy and take us all down with ya,” Suna’s tone is flat and bored, but the intensity of the statement is clear. 

“I dunno…” 

“Myaa-sam, don’t you think it's worth a try?” Akaashi’s approach is different, soft and coaxing. 

“Ya know how awkward it’s gonna be?” His leg is bouncing now.

He wants to. Very badly. But he can’t. It might only make things worse. 

“It’s only awkward if ya make it awkward. And that’s comin’ from me. Ya know, from both of our personal experiences, waiting too long is the worst mistake you can make.” Suna turns his gaze back to the kitchen, wistfulness is his voice. 

“We fucked up. But yer gettin’ a second chance. Don’t do it again.” 

Osamu knows Suna’s pain. He knows he’s right. 

“How the hell do I even start?” 

Suna’s gaze shifts to something, or someone, else before quickly locking eyes with Akaashi. 

“Don’t run.” He then gets up wordlessly and walks away. 

Akaashi brushes his pants off before standing, a small smile resting on his face. 

“Just remember Myaa-sam, you’ll only regret the things you don’t do. It’s best to be honest,” and with that, Akaashi also walks away. 

As Osamu’s eyes trace Akaashi’s path of escape, his eyes are caught by you, happily bounding towards him- a smile on your face and onigiri in hand. 

Yeah, that’s you for sure. Osamu is caught between the nerves in his stomach and the fuzziness in his mind as you come up to him. 

“Osamu, hello! Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, L/N.”

“Can, can I sit here?”

Don’t run. 

“Yeah.”

As you sit down, he notes the distance, he notes how your arms are in front of you, he notes your smile, and he notes how your eyes shine. He notes how cute you look with the onigiri tightly held in your hands. 

“Your onigiri’s are amazing! I always knew you were a great cook, but I’m so sad I never got to try them before!”

“Thank you, L/N. These definitely aren’t my best, Tsumu didn’t tell me I needed to make em till this mornin’ so… I was worried they weren’t as good.”

A lie. He knows they’re not bad. But he wants you to think they can be much better. 

“If this is bad then I’ll definitely have to come by and try more! Because this is the best onigiri I’ve ever had. But maybe that’s because you’re the one who made em.” You quickly move on from your comment by taking a giant bite out of your onigiri, and Osamu hopes that you don’t see how intensely his face heats up. 

Are ya, flirting? With him? Nah, yer just being you, all nice and all. But that doesn’t do anything to mitigate how much you’ve just stroked his ego. 

“Sounds like classic Atsumu, to forget to tell ya something important. What was your day like? Having to prep all this so fast.” You look up at him, expectantly, eagerly ready to listen to him.

Your undivided attention does illegal things to his heart, ya know. 

But just like that, you two fall into your usual pace, as if y’all had never stopped talking in the first place. He tells you stories, you add in charismatic quips, you both share laughs, and slowly the gap between you two closes. Osamu’s hand is now empty of any glasses and lounges against the back of the chair right by your head. You, on the other hand, have your legs pulled up under you, your knees gently pushing against his thigh. 

“Oh my gosh I should be at more Black Jackals games from now on, this sounds amazing,” you say as you wipe a tear from your eye after laughing too hard. 

“If yer goin, lemme know, I can keep ya company,” Osamu lets the words fall from his mouth before he processes what he’s saying. 

You pause, soaking in his words. “Really?”

Now it’s his turn to process his offer. “Uh.. only… if yer interested-”

“I’d love that.” You smile at him, excitement clear in your voice. 

As Osamu indulges himself in the sight of your smile, he realizes that some rice clung to the corner of your face. Out of instinct and enabled by proximity, his hand resting in his lap reaches out to you. His hand caresses your jaw while his thumb drags against the corner of your mouth, down over your bottom lip. Out of shock, you could do nothing but stare at him as his eyes meet yours. 

In this moment, in this place, time has stopped. Osamu has one thought on his mind as he thumbs at your lips. 

I need to kiss them. Now.

But then he didn’t. 

Osamu sharply retracts his hand, a “ah, sorry,” running off his tongue. 

“You’re, you’re fine.” You look down, flustered. “I’ll, be right back.” Osamu sighs and feels his heart start to sting as you walk away, head lowered. 

Fuck me. I fucked up again, didn’t I? I just didn’t want to do anything they didn’t want. 

 Osamu snaps back to reality as he feels a hard slap against the back of his head. 

He’s ready to fight when he turns around, only to see Homura and Atsumu behind the couch. 

“The fuck was that, Samu?” Atsumu aggressively yell whispers. 

“What doya mean!” He knows what Atsumu means. He hates admitting Tsumu is right, but he can’t admit that. 

Homura’s disappointed glare quiets him down. “Don’t do anything you don’t want to, Osamu. But if you want it, you can’t keep running away. And don’t lead them on either, that ain’t fair.” 

“I didn’t know if they wanted to…” Hasn’t that always been the problem? Osamu is a confident guy. He pulls a lotta people, pretty consistently too. But you were different, always had been. Osamu never wanted to hurt you, never wanted to make you uncomfortable. Never wanted to ruin your friendship. But in trying to do that, once it was too late, he knew that’s exactly what he did. And he couldn’t find it in himself to do that again. 

“They want it. I know my best friend. They want you as much as you want them, headass. So if you’re not gonna make a move, I will.” With that, Homura turns on her heels and walks away, Atsumu glaring at his brother while his girlfriend pulls him along. 

That’s definitely a threat. What does it mean? Who knows! But better to not find out.

Osamu’s eyes scan the room and he finds Suna leaning up against a wall, Akaashi standing next to him. Suna’s lazy gaze makes contact with Osamu’s for a moment before closing while sipping at his hot chocolate. Akaashi’s squint also feels more piercing in this moment. 

My boys are talkin’ shit about me? Incorrect, Samu. In case you have not realized, your boys are not the type to talk in the first place. 

I deserve it this time though. He rubs the back of his neck as he stands up to stretch. 

You do regret the things you don’t do. Dammit Akaashi. Time to talk it out. 

Osamu strides through the house tryna find you. He finds you stepping down the stairs, wiping at your face. His heart shatters and he really wants nothing but to hug you. But he resists, mind determined. 

“L/N.”

“Osamu! Hi um… I’m so sorry if I’ve been bothering you.” 

“L/N.”

“I’ll just let you go, I don’t wanna make you anymore uncomfortable.”

“Y/N.” Osamu grabs your arm as you try and walk away and gently tugs you to face him. “Please. Can we talk?” 

You pause, take a deep breath, and then turn to him, eyes still ensuring him that he has your undivided attention. 

With butterflies fluttering in his stomach, he calmly speaks. “I like you.”

Your eyes widen.

“I like you a lot. Since 2nd year-”

“In college?”

“High school.” 

You shudder and tears pool in the corners of your eyes. Instinct takes over Osamu as he pulls you forward with all his weight, throwing you against his chest as he wraps his arms around you. 

“I’m sorry I never told ya,” he whispers to you as he rocks you side to side, your face buried in his chest and your arms tight around his back. 

“I’ve always been so scared of, hurtin ya. You were one of my close friends, and I didn’t wanna mess it up over feelings. I didn’t wanna lose ya.” 

You nuzzle against his chest as he feels you start to shake.

“But when I saw that guy kissin ya one day, I thought… I thought I lost you anyways. I realized I waited too long and that I made a mistake. And then I proceeded to do everythin’ I never wanted to do, I hurt ya and I fucked up our friendship.”

“Osamu, I never wanted him to kiss me.” Your voice cracks. 

“...What?” His eyes go wide with concern and confusion. 

“He kissed me outta the blue. I thought we were just friends but he didn’t see it that way. I was just being myself, though. But right after that I told him there was someone else I liked.” 

Osamu internally hits himself. Maybe he should just ask Atsumu to punch him. How could he be so fuckin’ stupid? 

“I was gonna confess to you after that, but that’s when you dipped on me. I didn’t know what I did, and Homura told me to talk to you and find out for myself- she said it’d be fine if I talked to you, and that I should learn to communicate with you but I… I didn’t reach out. That’s my fault.”

Osamu pulls you closer to him, crushing you as much as he could. It’s his turn to shed a few tears, in frustration and pain. He coulda been with you all this time, but he was being a headass. Maybe Homura should punch him instead. 

“I’m...I’m so so sorry Y/N. I missed ya so much.” He cradles you in his arms, a calming (self-calming) sigh falling through his lips. 

“I’ve missed you too, Samu.”

You two look at each other for a good, long moment before small smiles crawl onto your faces. Osamu pulls you against him once more. 

“Let’s try this again. I wanna get it right this time.”

“Sounds good to me.” You say, sniffles stopping and giggles rising out of your chest. 

He buries his nose into the top of your head drawing in the sweet smell of your shampoo while his hands grab onto your fluffy sweater. 

“So cute! NOW KISS.” You and Osamu jolt out of your hug when Atsumu barks. All Osamu’s (and your) friends had now come to look at you two, smiles all around. 

Akaashi smiles fondly. Suna smiles lazily, and your favorite dumb Black Jackals (Bokuto and Hinata), who were unaware of any history between you two, are now in shock while also smiling like crazy. 

“Get it, Mya-samm!” Bokuto cheers out, causing everyone to erupt into laughter. 

“Wait, wait!” Atsumu runs down the hall, jumps, and then runs right up to his twin. He then proceeds to hold a mistletoe right above yours and Osamu’s head. 

“ I’ve been waitin’ for this shit to happen for Ion even know how many years. No chickenin’ out of it this time.” 

“Wasn’t planning on it, jackass.” 

Osamu’s hands find their way to your cheeks, gently caressing it with his fingers running up and down your jaw. His eyes take their time inspecting every inch of your face, mentally mapping every beautiful feature that adorns you. With the fire hot in his stomach and his lips aching, he pulls your face to meet his, lips gently massaging yours, telling you everything he had said earlier all over again, but this time with his actions. 

He likes you. A lot. For years. And he’s missed you so much. 

He slows the kiss down, taking his time to let you feel his lips against yours. When your hands reach up to hold his face he can’t help but try and pull you closer. 

As he pulls away after a mere 30 seconds, which did indeed feel like forever, his adrenaline is pumping and his smile is uncontrollable. The whooping and hollering slowly starts to die down, not that either of you heard it while so focused on the other. 

Osamu’s eyes find Suna’s. Suna has his camera out, as per usual, but his face has a small smile on it, and he nods to his best friend. With that, he nudges Akaashi and they walk back to to the family room. 

“Alright alright let’s get going boys. We have games that need to be played.” Homura grabs Bokuto and Hinata by the arm and collar (respectively) after giving a look to you. 

In that moment, Atsumu winked at Osamu while doing the ‘okay’ sign with his hands before walking to the room with everyone else. 

It was a signal the two had established way back in high school, when he and Homura started dating. It was their nonverbal sign of permission to the other twin for guaranteed privacy- which was important in a household of shared rooms and shared, well, everything. 

“What now Samu?” You look up at him, tugging him closer now that everyone else was gone. 

“I’m not done with ya just yet.” He smiles down at you, his eyes mischievous. 

You tilt your head in confusion. 

“I’m throwin ya over my shoulder, okay?” 

“Yes but why-” 

With that, Osamu sweeps you off the floor and throws you over his right shoulder easily.

“I messed up for years of my life, and now I have to make up for lost time. I told ya I’m not done with ya just yet.” 

Osamu proceeds to carry you up the stairs, giggles falling from your mouth. 

He’s gonna make sure you know much he really likes you. He’ll shower you in so much love, there won’t be a doubt left in your mind. 

He promises.

Epilogue- the next day

As the Black Jackals all slept like logs in their rooms, the smell of pancakes and coffee filled the air, attracting some of the other guests.

Some of the other boys, Suna, Akaashi, and Osamu, had all slept over, and were the among the first to find their way to the kitchen. 

“Samu, did Y/N get home ok?” Homura asks him while flipping some pancakes at the stove. 

Rubbing his eyes as he approaches her with a cup of coffee in hand, he nods. “Happy n’ safe.” 

“I’m very glad.”

“Homura-chan, I have a question for ya.” 

“Yes?”

“You knew both of our sides of the story from a long time ago. Why did ya never say anythin’? I’m not mad but I’m tryna figure it out.”

She smiles before saying, “It didn’t feel right. I love you both. A lot, obviously. But I think we both know intervening can... make things worse. A lot worse.”

A shared memory flashes through their minds. 

“And on top of that, I don’t think it would’ve solved the real issue both of you had. I wanted y’all to be happy in a relationship, but that meant y’all would have some barriers to cross. Y’all needed to grow before you could work as a couple. So I figured time would do its work.” 

“Although!!” Atsumu’s bright voice cuts in as he marches into the kitchen, wrapping his girlfriend in his arms, “us not telling you they were coming yesterday was 100% planned.” 

“And not telling me about onigiris?”

“Yeah that was intentional. Had to keep ya away from the house long enough.” 

“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill ya, Tsumu.” 

A/N: I hope y’all enjoyed! The ambiguity with Suna, Osamu, and Homura was intentional, so stay tuned!!!

[queenof-literature]

Goron

Hi all! This is the forth story in my Wild’s Story Hour series, which was originally requests that were sent in, and soon turned into its own series! I’ve been writing this on and off for a few months now, so I’m so happy to post it.

A little note: My Tumblr has been very wonky lately. I’m not sure about y’all, but every time I search for recent in the Linked Universe tag I get spammed with completely random tags not even related to the point where I can’t even see LU content. This is the only tag that’s like this for me. So please know that I’m not ignoring anyone, it’s just been quite laggy and slow for me to get notifications as well.

AO3 Link

Thank you all for your continued support, and I hope you enjoy!

"Thanks for dinner Wild!" Hyrule exclaimed before digging in. Wild heard similar sentiments as he passed out mushroom and veggie rice balls, with some fruit crepes on the side. An odd combination, but that’s apparently what happened when you traveled with a group of eight others. In Twilight’s Hyrule they had found a relatively safe and secluded place for the evening before the sun had begun to set, so Wild took the extra time to put more effort into dinner. The others used to tell him that he didn't need to put so much effort into dinner, they were fine with rations and quick meals over a fire. However after they learned that cooking was what Wild would consider a passion, they allowed themselves to be fed without complaint. If Wild enjoyed it, who were they to stop him. The delicious food was certainly a bonus.

After thanking Wild the group settled around the fire, relaxing into the evening lull Wild had begun to find comforting long ago. He was never expected to talk, he could just sit in peace and listen. And if he chose to talk, which was becoming more frequent as time went on, the others always listened. 

But after the… incident when Wild sang Kass' song, no one had asked him to tell anymore stories. After the first night of 'Wild's Story Hour' as Hyrule called it, Wind would often jump on his back and ask questions about his Hyrule. If Wind was anything, he was curious. That trait seemed to be amped up since Wild's Hyrule also had Rito and Koroks. Now though, Wind bit his tongue and kept quiet.

Wild didn't want to admit that he missed it.

He never thought he would miss talking, especially telling an entire story over a campfire. Talking used to feel like giving pieces of himself away, and if he gave too much he would be empty. Now he felt relieved every time he talked about his adventure. Wild loved seeing his brothers’ reactions to his tales, and the more he talked the more weight was lifted off him. That must have been what Warriors was talking about when he said that sometimes it helped to talk to others.

Wild missed it, but he didn't want to bring it up. It was embarrassing, and he didn't want the others to feel forced to listen to him. He was trying to get rid of that mentality but it was hard.

Wind felt guilty too, Wild could tell. Wild wasn't sure the little pirate had ever seen Wild so far gone in panic and anger. He hated that any of them saw him like that, let alone Wind. It wasn't the little pirate's fault, he didn't know that bringing it up would cause Wild's panic, not even Wild himself knew. It hadn't affected their friendship, but Wild didn't want Wind to feel uncomfortable around him at all. 

Before he could cucco out, Wild signed for Wind to sit with him when he could. Wind smiled and nodded, quickly finishing his conversation with Four before making his way over.

"Yes, Wild?" Wind asked eagerly, but Wild could still see the apprehension under the surface.

"Are you okay?" Wild asked, skipping the small talk he wasn't good at. 

"Of course! Why?" Wild resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Getting Wind, or any of the Links, to admit something was wrong was like pulling teeth. Although, Wild guessed he didn't have much room to talk…

"You've seemed upset lately. Did I do something?" Wild once again got straight to the point. If Wild did anything to upset the younger, he wanted to fix it. And he wanted to fix it now.

"What? Of course not, Wild! I'm sorry I made you think that. It's just… I feel bad I guess.” Wind sighed out, his shoulders slumping out of his fake eagerness. Wild winced slightly, knowing what Wind was talking about. Wild had one of his… attacks, in front of everyone. It started innocently enough, with Wind being curious about a song. It ended with Wild yelling and sobbing about his failures a century ago. 

“That wasn’t your fault.” Wild stated firmly. “You didn’t know what was going to happen. No one did, not even me.” Wild trailed off slightly at the last part. Wind’s face had perked up slightly, but he didn’t look completely convinced. 

“Wind.” Wild said gently, getting the younger’s attention. “I wouldn’t have sung if I didn’t want to.” Wild paused before admitting the next part, slightly embarrassed. “I like talking about my adventure. It feels nice.” Wild felt his ears turn red, but Wind didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he looked happier than he had in days.

“So… everything is okay? Do you forgive me?” Wind asked hopefully.

“There’s nothing to forgive.” Wild reassured. “Of course everything is okay.” 

���Can I…” Wind trailed off from his question, but Wild knew what was going to be asked, and he simply nodded and smirked, opening his arms slightly. Wild caught a flash of Wind’s face, a large beaming grim, before a body launched into his arms from across the log, squeezing the life out of him. Wild squeezed just as hard back, thankful that the matter was behind them. Wild could feel eyes on them, and turned to meet the mirthful gazes of his companions. Wild simply glared at them, warning them not to say anything. This was between him and Wind. But the other Links were simply thankful everything was all right. 

“Hey Wild?” Wind’s muffled voice rose from Wild’s chest.

“Hm?” Wild hummed, biting back a smile.

“Do you ever wanna tell another story for us? It’s okay if you say no.” Wind asked into Wild’s tunic. Wind used to bite back on his hugs and physical touches, afraid it would be seen as childish. But after it became more common around camp, and after the other Links understood that Wind simply came from a home where hugs were a common display of affection, Wind didn't feel the need to hide it anymore.

“Yeah, anytime.” Wild smiled.

“Now?” Wind questioned hesitantly.

“Sure.” Wild confirmed, searching through good memories of his adventure. Like an arrow, Wind launched off Wild’s chest, and Wild shoved down his disappointment at the loss of warmth.

“Guys! Shush!” Wind yelled, a hush falling over the camp besides a few grumbles about being interrupted. “Wild’s gonna tell a story!” He shouted in excitement, ignoring Wild’s shocked face. By now, Wind really meant right now.

“Did you inform Wild of this?” Legend asked, smirking at Wild’s shocked face.

“Of course! I asked him!” Wind scolded, turning back around and sitting on his and Wild’s shared log, ignoring Legend rolling his eyes. Wild saw Twilight shoot a look over the fire, silently asking if this was truly alright. Wild gave him a reassuring look and a nod. The camp was once again quiet as they all looked to Wild in interest.

“Uhh. What should I talk about?” Wild questioned awkwardly. It was always so awkward at the start.

“You always ask that, talk about whatever you want.” Legend crossed his arms, and lowered himself to the ground, back against the log.

“There’s two divine beasts left. You can talk about one of those?” Hyrule spoke up beside Legend. 

“Okay, Gorons?” Wild suggested. The Gorons were a fun people to be around, and if Wild was honest, he wasn’t ready to touch on the subject on the Zora quite yet. That was too close to Mipha. Mipha wasn’t necessarily a secret, but it was a topic he was still sore about.

“Gorons sound fun. Don’t we all have Gorons in our Hyrule?” Four questioned, receiving nods and noises of confirmation. 

“Didn’t Twilight wrestle them?” Sky questioned, receiving blank looks from the others.

“I’m sorry Twilight what?” Warriors’ shocked expression almost sent Wild into a fit of laughter. He couldn’t blame the man though, Wild was just as surprised when Twilight told him about his adventure with the Gorons. 

“And you didn’t tell me?” Wind’s cried in betrayal. 

“Uhh, I needed my iron boots to do it.” Twilight tried to soothe the outbreak of awe.

“That doesn’t matter with Gorons. Those make you heavier, even someone with above-average strength couldn’t beat a Goron with iron boots.” Four smirked from beside Sky, who was watching the chaos he caused unfold. 

“I told y’all I learned how to wrestle in my village!” Twilight shouted with no heat. 

“You didn’t tell us you wrestled a Goron!” Wind yelled back. 

“He also burned a building down.” Time spoke up, biting back a smile at Twilight’s betrayed expression.

“I told you that in confidence!” Twilight yelled. 

“Wait and you give me shit for lighting things on fire?” Wild cried out. Now this was the first he had heard of that. 

“You do it for fun!” Twilight tried to defend himself through the uproarious laughter. 

“Why did you do it then?” Wild questioned. 

“That’s not important!” Twilight huffed. 

“Maybe we should call you Wild.” Legend joked.

“Hey don’t you dare-” Twilight began before being interrupted by Four.

“As entertaining as this is, I think Wild was going to tell a story.” He reminded.

“Yeah! Wild talk about the Gorons!” Wind ceased glaring at Twilight in favor of looking at Wild. 

“Okay, okay.” Wild said after he was done laughing. “Well you guys know my Death Mountain is really hot with all the lava.”

“Understatement.” Warriors mumbled.

“So I had to pick up some elixirs from Foothill stables and drink them on the way up." Wild started, relaxing into his story as he went.

“Don’t your elixirs only last a couple of hours?” Hyrule titled his head.

“Yeah, why?” Wild questioned. 

“That looks like a long and rocky road. What, did you just run through the whole domain?” Hyrule joked, pausing when he saw Wild bite his lip. “Wild!” Hyrule yelled in realization.

"What? I didn't have any other choice! I had plenty of elixirs!" Wild defended.

“What if you ran out?” Four chided with a snort.

“Then I’d teleport away.” Wild shot back.

“Don’t extreme temperatures affect your slate sometimes?” Warriors smirked. 

“I… would deal with that when I got there.” Wild huffed at the laughter that came from the others.

“Yeah a lot of your plans involve that.” Legend mumbled.

“Anyway.” Wild interrupted before the conversation could lead to discussing his battle tactics. “I kept running up the path and there were a lot of fire monsters like moblins, and keese and chuchus-” Wild continued.

“Don’t the chuchus in your Hyrule explode?” Hyrule asked once again, eyes shining in excitement. 

“Yeah! If I throw bombs at them then I can make a huge explosion! Especially the big ones.” Wild confirmed with a grin.

“No, you two are not having a competition of who can make a bigger explosion when we get to Wild’s Hyrule again.” Time already knew where this would lead. It was best to nip it in the bud now.

“Awe.” Wild and Hyrule groaned. 

“We never get to do anything.” Wild mumbled with a pout.

“You were saying?” Time lifted an eyebrow. Wild huffed once more before continuing his story. 

“Right. It was a long walk and of course I wasn’t going to risk taking a horse. There were a lot of cliffs along the path and since I didn’t have much time I took the straight path. Then I accidently ran into a Talus!” Wild grinned at the rest of the group’s groans. They had some run-ins with the larger monsters in Wild’s Hyrule, and while they all had tough enemies, Wild’s had some of the largest monsters that were considered relatively common.

“Volcanos have molten rock, how did you miss it?” Warriors joked.

“It was molten rock!” Wild defended. “It blended in perfectly.”

“Wait wait wait.” Four waved his hands. “Your Taluses are also made of magma and volcanic rock?”

“Yep.” Wild confirmed, laughing slightly at the various looks of surprise the Links always held when they learned of new monsters their own Hyrules didn’t have. The other heroes had been near Eldin, but not quite near Goron City enough to see an Igneo Talus. Hopefully they were never dropped off near Death Mountain. Wild didn’t really want to wake up on fire.

“Are there ice and electric ones too.” Legend groaned.

“Ice ones.” Wild answered. “Those ones are really hard to see.”

“Ugh, remind me to watch my step.” Legend rolled his eyes.

“Will do.” Wild deadpanned. “Luckily I had some ice arrows so it was okay. Eventually I made it to the Southern Mine. That’s where the Goron mine for ore!" Wild explained. "I even met another Hylian there! He had some of the Flamebreaker Armor that you get in Goron City.” Wild had shown the group his Flamebreaker Armor before, and some had even tried it on, including Four.

“Oh? Did you seduce this Hylian for clothes as well?” Warriors raised an eyebrow.

“No I did not!” Wild crossed his arms, glaring at the rest of the now laughing heroes. “I’ll never live that down will I?”

“Nope.” Warriors and Legend smirked at Wild’s glare. 

“I asked if I could buy it, since he was heading down anyway.” Wild spoke over the chuckling Links. “He said he would give it to me if I caught him 10 fireproof lizards so he could make elixirs. I saw a bunch of lizards while running up so I caught enough.” The rest of the group nodded, they too had to do some… irregular things for important items.

“How do you catch that many lizards that fast?” Wind tilted his head. “Aren’t they quick?”

“Oh yeah. If you’re not careful they’ll scurry away and bury themselves in the mountain side or under rock. I had to crouch and hop around.” Wind laughed at the image of Wild moving around like that. 

This was nice.

“Is Goron City far away from the Southern Mine?” Sky asked.

“It’s not too far, but after I got a part of the armor and started approaching the city, Vah Rudania, Daruk’s divine beast, was circling Death Mountain and started launching giant fireballs so I had to dodge them and sprint up to the city.”

“Giant fireballs? Why would the beast attack you?” Hyrule asked. 

“Well I’m not sure if Rudania meant to do it since it was circling the volcano, but Rudania was terrorizing Goron City like Medoh was terrorizing the Rito, so I think it was because of the Calamity.” Wild hummed in thought.

“They were infected with… malice, right?” Four questioned, remembering Wild’s pictures of the large pool of intimidating… something. It was apparently a manifestation of the Calamity, and Wild had said it burned whenever he touched it, especially with the Master Sword in hand. Four remembered even the pool looked evil. Pure black roots took hold of whatever was around it, mixed in with deep shades of reds and purples. Wild also told him there was an odd sound it made that set him on edge.

“As far as I know.” Wild nodded, thinking back to the pools of malice in all the Divine Beasts. “Back 100 years ago,” The group perked up in both excitement and worry. It was rare Wild talked about 100 years ago. Both because he couldn’t remember it, and because it had pained him for so long. “The other champions rushed to their Divine Beasts. The plan was I would protect Zelda, and return to defeat Ganon after the Divine Beasts weakened them. Zelda wanted to come with me, since she still believed there was a chance to awaken her power. She always pushed herself so hard…” Wild trailed off for a moment, staring into the fire. Twilight almost began to rise, believing Wild to have slipped into another memory, but Wild shook himself out of it quickly. “Help never came. The Divine Beasts were taken over by malice, and while they piloted themselves the champions were killed by Blights that Ganon had created to directly match their strength and exploit it. And well… you all know how the story ends.” There was a heavy silence, no one knowing what to say, including Wild. Wind scooted over on the log and leaned against Wild gently, showing his silent support. Wild smiled down at him, then at the others around the fire.

“It’s okay.” Wild told them. “Let’s just keep talking about the Gorons?” He proposed.

“Cub…” Time started, not quite knowing how to get his message across. “Talk about whatever you want to. Anytime.” Time finished, hoping Wild knew what he meant, and judging by the smile he did. 

“Thanks, Old Man.” Wild said earnestly, thankful for the comfortable warmth at his side.

“Well um…” Wild began, thinking about where he left off. He appreciated that everyone waited to let him think, and didn’t interrupt him. “I finally made it to the city. Since it’s made from the materials they have up there it’s made up of a lot of rock and metals, but it’s still great to look at! They work hard on their signs outside their shops and the children always roll across the bridges over lava. There’s also a whole bunch of statues carved into the mountains.” Wild made large gestures solely with his left arm, since his right was still held captive by Wind. 

Time leaned his chin into his hand. It was always interesting to hear about the boys’ Hyrules from their perspectives. Some Hyrules like Wild’s had very little to no government, and Time enjoyed hearing how different civilizations had gotten by. 

“I got to meet with their leader, um, the ‘Boss’ of the Gorons. His name is Bludo. He’s really grumpy, and he has a bad back. He told me that him and someone named Yunobo would use cannons to scare off Rudania-”

“You have cannons too?” Wind looked up, always excited to hear how similar his and Wild’s Hyrules could be.

“Mhm!” Wild nodded. “Do you all not?”

“I had air cannons mostly.” Four spoke up, among some murmurs of confirmation among half the Links. It seems Time, Warriors, and Hyrule didn’t have cannons in their Hyrules.

“Since his back was bad I had to go find Yunobo, who disappeared after running an errand for Bludo to get medicine for his back.” Wild continued after briefly explaining how cannons work. “I just had to follow the path up to the Abandoned North Mine. Since Rudania started terrorizing them and monsters infested they stopped using that one as much. There was a Goron watching the area and he told me to not touch the Boss’ cannons.”

“And let me guess you touched the cannons right away didn’t you?” Sky asked, clearly amused.

“Yes I did. There was one right behind him.” Twilight let out a snort, quickly trying to muffle his laughter at Wild’s playful glare. Time too, was greatly amused by Wild’s antics, although his mind wandered a bit. All of these names for the Divine Beast’s names always sounded so familiar. Was it possible Wild too was a part of Time’s hero line? His Hyrule was far larger than the others, though. He wouldn’t be surprised if Wild was in a timeline of his own. Or perhaps somehow the land had changed and Wild was just far, far into the future. Time shook his head slightly and tried to tune back in. He really needed to stop trying to understand how complex time and time travel was.

“The cannons are so fun up there! I could roll my round bombs into them, and they had enough power to blow up a whole monster camp.” As Wild rambled on about all the ways he could use his bombs around Death Mountain, including cannons and carts, his eyes practically sparkled.

“I finally found Yunobo.” Wild got back on track with his story. “He was trapped in a cave-in and I got to use the cannons to get him out. When I went to check on him, he had some sort of orange shield surrounding him, and he was really timid.” Twilight mused on that for a moment. That sounded like how Wild described one of his champion powers.

“I had to run back to Bludo after that, and he told me about Daruk. I looked up at the stature of him and I finally remembered him, at least a little bit.” Wild had a small smile on his face.

“What was he like?” Hyrule questioned. 

“He was really kind, as far as I could tell. He joked around with me a lot and he didn’t even care that I never answered. He said he would protect Hyrule to his death.” Wild’s smile turned bittersweet. “I think he always forgot I wasn’t a Goron, or he didn’t care, he would smack my back hard enough to send me flying.” Wild chuckled lightly. 

He seemed to be fond of Daruk 100 years ago. Daruk appeared to understand how much pressure was crushing down on Wild, yet he never showed pity or disdain. He even teased him about it. Wild could remember a faint feeling of excitement when being told he would be seeing Daruk’s progress, so he assumed the Link of 100 years ago enjoyed his time among the Gorons, no matter how short it was. 

“Awe yes I remember that well. I distinctly remember running away screaming when the Gorons wanted to thank me for helping them.” The camp cackled at the image of a younger Time running away and screaming.

“Bludo asked me to find Yunobo again, since his back was still hurting him.”

“Good to know everyone in every Hyrule is so needy.” The veteren scoffed.

“Turns out that Yunobo works with Bludo because of his powers he got from Daruk, the forcefield I was talking about. Yunobo hops in a giant cannon along Death Mountain, and Bludo launches him at Rudania.” Wild explained.

“That… sounds dangerous.” Sky laughed a little.

“Yeah… but Daruk’s shield is indestructible! Only problem was the guardian sentries surrounding the mountain.” 

“The what?” Wind raised his head from Wild’s shoulder to look at the older boy.

“Rudania sent them to guard the area once we finally arrived at the base of Death Mountain.” Wind nodded and plopped his head back onto Wild’s shoulder, no one daring to tease either of them, even in good fun. “If they caught me with their lights, they would send magma bombs right onto the path!”

“And how do you know that? Did you get caught?” Warriors asked, slightly surprised Wild would get caught. He could be quite sneaky when he wanted to be.

“Well I was curious…”

“Wild!” Warriors pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I ran back to the base after I tested it and Yunobo had his shield!” Wild defended against the groans and muffled laughs. “Besides I was about to launch someone out of a cannon I wanted to know what we were up against. I avoided the sentries the rest of the time, and I had to whistle for Yunobo to stop and go, and there were some Moblins on the way up.” The rest of the group could imagine that climbing Death Mountain, especially one as large as Wild, while avoiding sentries, fighting monsters, and whistling for someone to stop and go would be tedious. 

“Everytime I fired Yunobo from the cannon Rudania fled further around the volcano, and we made it all the way to the top!”

“Did you set off anymore sentries?” Twilight questioned.

“No!” Wild frowned. “I’m not completely reckless you know!” Wild stated, not appreciating the silence that followed his statement. “I’ll have you know I made it all the way to the top!”

“And how did you get into Vah Rudania?” Time raised an eyebrow.

“I…” Wild started boldly, before realizing exactly how he got into the Divine Beast.

“You what.” Twilight narrowed his eyes.

“I… jumped.” Wild shrugged the shoulder Wind wasn’t resting his head on. “Once I got into-”

“You jumped where.” Time smirked. That bastard, he knew something was up and he was gonna sic Twilight on him! Wild would find a way to  get revenge later.

“Vah Rudania was in the middle of Death Mountain so I used my paraglider-” Wild once again tried to brush this portion of the story off.

“You jumped into the middle of an active volcano?” Four cackled, the first one to understand what Wild was saying and showing an odd lack of restraint.

“Wild.” Twilight chided in ‘that voice’.

“Don’t ‘Wild’ me you lit a building on fire!” Wild defended.

“See Time! This is why I didn’t want you to tell them!”

“How did you know your paraglider wouldn’t burn up?” Warriors lips quivered under the strain of covering a grin.

“I would deal with that when I got there!” Wild claimed once again, trying not to focus on the slight flaws in his argument.

“How? How would you deal with that?” Legend threw his hands up at his friend’s stupidity.

“I don't know Legend. I never got there so I never had to deal with it, since it turned out fine.”

“What happened next?” Hyrule asked, covering for Wild and moving the conversation forward. Wild held back a fond smirk, he’d have to thank Hyrule later.

“Glad you asked, Hyrule!” Wild ignored any other questions. “I heard Daruk’s voice telling me I had to go find the terminal as usual, but this time inside the Divine Beast was pitch black.” The group had finally stopped asking questions and started listening to the story with interest.

“I had to get rid of pools of malice by shooting the eyes, and I had to light some areas up. Once I reached the terminal there were some places that opened up so it was lit up again.”

“Did this one rotate like the other Divine Beasts?” Legend asked from his place against his log. 

“Yeah I could control it with my slate like the other ones. There were all kinds of puzzles like the last beast, like this one where I had to light my arrow with blue flame and shoot it through a hole in the door, then-”

The rest of the Links listened intently  as Wild went into the intricate details of the different puzzles within the beast. They were always interested to hear both about the Sheikah technology of Wild’s world, and how he had to use what was available to him to solve them. As much as they teased Wild for being stupid and reckless, he really was intelligent, espeically when it came to logic and puzzles. Twilight remembered how some markets in his Hyrule had little puzzles made of wood,each one requiring moving certain pieces to unlock different parts. Twilight had never been particularly interested in them, but he wondered if Wild would be, if Twilight found one complicated enough. He’d have to get away from the group and find one whenever they ended up near one of his markets. Perhaps even Four and Sky would be interested in getting their hands on them and taking them apart.

“-and I finally got to the last terminal and unlocked it.” Wild continued, barely pausing to breathe. The group wasn’t sure if he was aware of how much he was talking, or how rapidly, but they didn’t dare interrupt. “Fireblight Ganon manifested, and had the power to throw huge fireballs. But he had to suck in everything around to create them. So I threw my bombs into his mouth and blew them up. Other than that, I just had to get up close.” Wild described the fight in an almost casual sense, even though it seemed these blights were pieces of Ganon himself. It seemed some blights were far easier than others. 

“When Daruk appeared, I still only had one memory of him, but he seemed as kind as he had been in my memory.” Wild had a small smile. “After freeing the beast I got teleported back to Goron City, and Vah Rudania took its position against the Calamity alongside, at the time, the Zora domain’s beast.” Wild explained. “Bludo thanked me, even though he hadn’t really understood what I did. I said goodbye to Yunobo, and, uh, that was that.” Wild ended his story as awkward as always, wincing at his own words. His throat, still unused to talking so much for such a long amount of time, felt as though he had swallowed sand.

“Thanks for the story, Wild!” Wild looked down at the sailor, something shining in the younger’s eyes he couldn’t quite place. 

“Yeah! I always like hearing about how your guys’ kingdoms compare to mine.” Sky smiled, kindly shuffling and reaching over, handing Wild his water pouch. How he knew Wild needed it, or when he even got a hold of it, Wild would never know. Wild nodded in thanks and began sipping at the water, resisting the urge to chug it all in one gulp, as everyone’s voices blended slightly, creating a warm atmosphere.

The group continued to discuss different topics, going off on different tangents relating to Gorons and their Hyrules, all of which Wild was perfectly content to just listen, occasionally answering questions directed at him.

With the warm weight against his shoulder, and the comfortable but lively chatter surrounding him, Wild allowed himself to just exist within the moment, feeling himself relax further.

“Hey Wild?” Wild felt the head against his shoulder stir, and Wild looked down to meet a fellow set of blue eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for the story.” A relaxed but genuine smile reached Wind’s expressive face.

“No, Wind. Thank you.”

~~~ 

Very minor spoiler for Age of Calamity: The fact that BOTW/AOC Link canonically eats rocks is beautiful to me.

Wild loves puzzles, change my mind.

I like to write Wild how I play video games in general, which is just screwing around and seeing what happens.

I’m sorry if I get anything wrong about other Hyrules. I’ve played a good amount of the Zelda games but it’s been a long time since not a lot of them are on consoles I have :(

[nanoland]

title: Compass Rose 

series: Lucifer (TV) 

pairings: Mazikeen/Eve

summary: In which Mazikeen exercises her renowned patience. 

warnings: Lucifer is kind of a dick in this. Not intentionally; he’s just young and colossally self-centered. 

 Also on Ao3! 

0 

“You. Demon. What’s your name?” asks the Morningstar, looking bored and depressed, as usual.

She straightens up, brimming with nerves and excitement, feeling her acidic blood bubble happily because he’s so handsome! And he’s talking to her! Her siblings will shriek with jealousy when they hear of this. “Mazikeen, my liege.”

“Mazikeen,” he repeats, mispronouncing it. “Great. Maze, do something about… all that, would you? It’s dreadfully grating.”

He gestures to the sea of damned, miserable human souls milling around the base of his throne, calling up to him for help or mercy.

“Yes, my liege,” she says, her bright mind already hard at work planning the next few millennia of punishment.

 0 

“Maze, is there a letter from Amenadiel?”

Mazikeen is now four hundred years old and in all that time, not a single letter has arrived in Hell, from Amenadiel or anyone else. Regardless, her handsome king asks every week.

It’s fine. She’s far too mature and cunning to feel even the slightest scrap of envy towards some pompous old angel she’s never even met, regardless of how obviously Lucifer loves him.

Regardless of how obvious it is that he loves no one in Hell half as much.

“No, my liege.”

“Hmm. Fine. Whatever. Fuck him, then. Brothers – who needs ‘em?”

She nods. She herself has many, many brothers, and sisters, and siblings who are neither or both, and she certainly doesn’t need them.

(Sometimes she longs for them, especially when she’s weary from the years and years dedicated to building and securing Lucifer’s kingdom, but she never needs. Needing is for the weak.)

It occurs to her that that king might be cheered by stories of Tradiusis, her most treasured and most useless brother, who is prone to chatting with the damned and asking them about all the silly human indulgences they enjoyed in life, like movies and theme parks and hot dogs. Fool that he is, the mere thought of him always brings a smile to her face.

But she decides against it, suspecting that if she were to begin telling Lucifer about her family, he’d get that same dull, faintly irritated expression she sees every time she reads him a report about the number of new arrivals and how various parts of Hell will need to be restructured to accommodate them all.

(She wonders what will happen when Hell is full – does he have a plan? Is she expected to have a plan?)

(How long, exactly, are they supposed to keep doing this?)

(Surely this can’t be all they were made for?)  

 0  

“Maze, get me a drink, would you?”

Mazikeen is Lucifer’s right hand, his bodyguard, the highest-ranked demon in Hell, named the Lady of Pain, the Whirlwind, and the Blood Dancer by her peers and underlings.

Pouring drinks is… new to her.

But this is what he wants; this club, this loud music, these inebriated humans constantly demanding attention and entertainment, constantly needing to be managed. And he’s her king.

She pours him his drink and listens to him play the piano, until some wretch attempts to grope her and loses two fingers.

 0 

Running a nightclub is, it turns out, complicated.

There are all sorts of rules and regulations regarding what can and cannot be done inside it.

At one point, Lucifer decides it would be fun to have white tigers roaming the dance floor. After a few days spent looking into that option, she has to explain that they may to have settle for waitresses dressed as tigers. He pouts like it’s her fault and goes back to the piano.

She’s also not allowed to kill anyone, which is, honestly, ridiculous. Mazikeen is an ancient being, a warrior nigh unparalleled, with centuries of experience contending with the worst the human race has to offer, and every single night she endures treatment from at least one of Lucifer’s guests that, even to her vast, reasonable, and patient mind, clearly warrants swift annihilation.

If murder is, indeed, illegal, how do all the mortal women in this city who serve drinks cope?

“You block it out, I guess,” says Suzy, a waitress with thick red hair and tired eyes, after Mazikeen has had to save her yet again from a patron with wandering hands (and now broken hands). “You know, just… don’t let it get to you. Grow a thick skin.”

Mazikeen considers the half of her body that has no skin whatsoever and snickers inappropriately. Then she gifts Suzy one of her knives.

 0 

Chloe gasps. “Maze! No! Absolutely not!”

“Why?” she asks, annoyed but also genuinely curious.

“I can’t just torture a suspect to get information, Maze. It’s wrong.”

Mazikeen considers saying: You already torture people. You lock them up in tiny boxes until their minds break and their lives are utterly ruined. How is that different? I don’t understand.

Mazikeen considers saying: You let Lucifer violate peoples’ innermost selves to obtain information. How is that better? I don’t understand.

Mazikeen considers saying: I don’t want to be good. I don’t care about being good. So why do I seem to put so much more thought into how to be good than you do? I don’t understand, I don’t, I don’t.

Instead, Mazikeen rolls her eyes and says nothing.

 0 

“Maze! No! What were you thinking?” cries Linda, rushing over to the cradle. “You can’t give that to a baby!”

She snatches away Mazikeen’s present; a blade, small and silver, just right for tiny hands, the same blade Mazikeen herself received from her favourite sister on her fourth birthday. It has tasted the blood of over a hundred enemies.

Charlie starts to cry and Linda puts the blade aside so she can pick him up and comfort him.

“Children need to be able to protect themselves,” Mazikeen insists.

“No, Maze. Children need to be protected.”

“No one protected me.”

Linda doesn’t say: Exactly. Why would I want my son to be anything like you?

Because Linda is kind.

But Mazikeen is perceptive and she sees it in her friend’s eyes all the same.

 0 

“So then, then it turns out that Jon Snow is actually Daenarys Targaryen’s cousin, right, which makes him – oh no! – a rival contender for the Iron Throne, and…”

“Ugh,” Mazikeen groans, cutting Ella off. “I thought this was a show about dragons! Why does it waste so much time on people either fucking or killing their relatives?”

She laughs at Mazikeen’s exaggerated annoyance. “It’s not just about dragons. There’s a lot of stuff about politics and war and, yeah, fucked-up family dynamics. Honestly, that’s one of the reasons it grips me so much. My own family’s always got a ton of drama going on, too. I mean – no incest. Not that I’m aware of. But you know all about my brothers.”

Mazikeen is about to ask what the dragons look like – whether the show’s version bears any resemblance to the beasts she’s ridden into battle – when Ella tilts her head sideways and squints at her. “Huh. Now that I think about it… I’ve told you all about my brothers but I’ve never asked anything about your family. That was shitty of me! Can I ask now? Or is it, like, one of those things you don’t talk about? Like where you’re from and how you met Lucifer?”

Fiddling with a lock of her hair – it’s straight and black today – Mazikeen says, “I don’t mind talking about it. Just… most people don’t care.”

Ella frowns, briefly (cutely, curse her). “Well, I wanna know! You got any brothers?”

“Yeah.”

“How many?”

“A lot. I’m not actually sure exactly how many there are now.”

“Oh, right. Gotcha. Are you close to any of them?”

“Not these days. But when we were young, we were pretty tight-knit. Didn’t really have anyone besides each other.”

Ella asks her more questions and though she has to keep her answers extremely vague, Mazikeen finds that she likes talking about her home and her childhood. Prolonged exposure to the human world has begun to make her feel insubstantial; a tool, a disguise, a thing without roots or history. Lucifer’s been no help with that, for he’s only ever known her as his servant (and, sometimes, when he’s in a good mood, his friend, by virtue of the fact that friendship with someone who works for you – who can do nothing but work for you – requires no tedious emotional labour whatsoever).

It’s nice to remember that she has, in fact, been other things. That she could, perhaps, be other things in the future.

 0 

“So,” Dan slurs, hunched over his beer. “You got whores… hordes… horns? Thought demons had horns.”

She’s busy applying a fresh coat of candy-pink lipstick to match her powder-blue bob. “Some do. I don’t.”

“Well, that sucks. That’s not fair! You deserve horns. You’re cool, Maze.”

Because that provokes a twinge of genuine affection, she says, “Wanna see what I have got?”

“Hell, yeah!”

He grins drunkenly.

“You need to promise not to scream.”

“Oh – oh, man, is it scary? Is it gross?”

She shows him her true face.

After a moment of owlish blinking, he shrugs and returns to his beer. “Eh. S’not that gross. Lucifer’s grosser. Wanna play pool?”

 0 

Amenadiel presents her with a beautiful black sheath. “I crafted it from my own feathers. It will keep the blade contained until he’s old enough to wield it safely.”

She slides Charlie’s knife into it. “Someone will need to teach him.”

“Who taught you?”

“Me? No one. They just threw us at one another and clapped for whoever survived. But… well. He’s not like me, is he?”

The angel places the sheathed blade down beside Charlie’s stuffed rabbit and plastic truck. “Maybe not now. With any luck, that will change.”

 0 

“Ma-aaze,” Lucifer groans, flopping back in his armchair with his long legs artfully folded and his hand over his eyes. “I’ve had such a tiresome morning. Pour me a drink, would you?”

“Pour it your damn self,” she suggests, standing on his penthouse’s balcony and admiring the view. His throne in Hell was about as tall as this building. From up here, all the little people down below look exactly the same.

He pouts and fetches a glass – and, to her surprise, one for her as well.

 0 

Mazikeen brings an abrupt, efficient end to the bar fight by slamming her palm into an assailant’s solar plexus.

He drops like a ton of bricks, joining the pile of groaning men, broken furniture, and smashed bottles. (Shit; it’s going to take ages to clean all this up. If Lucifer didn’t have infinite money, Lux would have gone bankrupt eight times by now.)

She turns to see Eve staring at her, beautiful mouth hanging open, and braces herself for the “Maze! No!”.

“That was so cool,” Eve breathes, and rushes over to leap into Mazikeen’s arms, only to draw back at the last second. “Oh no! You’re hurt!”

There is, indeed, a small cut on Mazikeen’s left hand.

“Don’t care, doesn’t matter,” says Mazikeen, reaching for her, wanting badly to be kissed.

But Eve drags her into a quiet back room where she applies disinfectant and bandaids with cartoon cats on them.

“I really wanna learn how you did that thing with your elbow,” she chatters, wiping away a few spots of blood with a white handkerchief. “The way his nose just went crunch! – man, it was fantastic.”

“I can teach you. If you like.”

Eve’s dark eyes are fond. “You’re always offering to do something for me – to teach me how to fight, or to carry something, or to protect me. It’s… like, I love it. But you know you don’t have to, right?”

“Yeah. I do.”

“I wanna do stuff for you sometimes. Oh! That reminds me. Lucifer was going to take Chloe to a wrestling match but then they had another fight and he’s back to being sad, sooo I stole the tickets out of his jacket. Wanna go?”

“I love you,” says Mazikeen, even though she’s said it five times today. She likes the way it sounds in her mouth. She likes the way it makes Eve’s whole face sparkle.

“I love you too, babe.”

[dyaz-stories]

Screaming Color — A SessKagu One-Shot

“The rest of the world was black and white... but we were in screaming colors”

Tagging: @shinidamachu @sailorbabydoll92 @sweetchcolate @clearwillow @zelink-inukag @cstorm86 @digital-art-monster @danycontreras90 @redflamesofpassion @lost-amidst-the-stars​ @eternalnight8806-3 @desiree239 @keichanz @ashleys-canvas​ @mustardyellowsunshine​ @meggz0rz​ @contacting-u​ @ramen---boi​ @superpixie42​ @kazeinori​

Also available on Ao3 and ff.net.

Prom night. Balloons suspended around the school gym in a desperate attempt to make it look a little more dreamy, not-so-dazzling lights, the one mirrorball the school owned, which had probably been purchased at the peak of the disco era, considering its looks, glitter on the floor, and bad music. Girls dressed to the nines and boys, well, making an effort, at least. Smiles, heartbreak, epic highs and lows of teenage romance.

And, standing by the drinks table, bored out of her damn mind, Kagura Kaze, art teacher in her thirties, chaperoning.

To say this wasn’t Kagura’s dream night would have been a complete understatement. See, when Onigumo, the school director had approached her to give her that job, she had had a moment of hesitation. It had lasted a second, if not less, as memories flooded her mind. When she’d been in high school, she was way too cool for prom, so she had never experienced it, and it made her— it made her somewhat curious, you know? Made her want to know what all the fuss was about.

Of course, the thought quickly vanished from her mind. Obviously, she couldn’t experience it as a teenager again, and while it might have been fun back then, though she seriously doubted it, there was no way she would enjoy it even the tiniest bit now.

But because of her hesitation, she’d lost her way out, and that was how she found herself, well, here.

“I’m standing right here, Manten.”

The teenage boy seemed genuinely surprised to hear her talk, and almost dropped the bottle of alcohol he’d been about to pour in the punch that was available for all students to drink from.

“Yeah, I know, I just—”

He just hadn’t thought she’d say anything. She’d heard that a lot tonight, and she didn’t know whether to be flattered or offended. It definitely confirmed that she was the ‘cool teacher’, a title she’d earned because she was, by far, the best dressed teacher in school, because she actually had some renown in the art world and also because, if she dared to say so herself, she was an a-fucking-mazing teacher.

That would have come as a surprise to anyone, including her own self, just five years ago, when she’d gotten the job. She’d thought that would be the nail in the coffin of her creativity and of her already dying art career. She’d thought, and everyone around her agreed, that she would murder one of the young imbeciles she’d have to look after after just one day, and end up in jail, and if that didn’t happen, she would certainly die a long and boring death in the small high school of a small town, miles away from the city and everything she loved.

But, as it turned out, that had not been the case. She could, in fact, live without Starbucks, and she didn’t need to go shopping at high-end clothing stores every week-end.

Not that she could afford it these days.

As for teenagers, they were horrible, stupid, and hormonal, but some of them, sometimes, were also interesting. Those, she did her best to help. After all, Kagura liked talent. She took pride in her ability to spot it, even in its rawest form. She had thought it would make her bitter, to see these talented teenagers, with all their lives still ahead of themselves.

It didn’t. It just made her want to help them, and if that meant she had to do her damnedest to find scholarships they could apply to, well, she’d do that.

Other students didn’t complain about her class, either. It gave them an outlet for all sorts of emotions, and if there was one thing no one had ever said about her, it was that she was boring.

So it didn’t exactly surprise her, to hear that Manten had thought she’d let him spike the punch, but on the other hand— how did he dare? Did he really think she was that irresponsible? She wasn’t going to let teenagers get wasted on her watch.

“Give me the bottle, Manten,” she sighed, extending a perfectly manicured hand.

“But…”

“And tell your brother to come here and give me his,” she added, eyeing Hiten, who was watching the scene carefully, and who, of course, had sent his brother do his dirty job for him.

“Oh, Hiten would never—”

“You heard her, kid,” a deep voice growled from behind him. “Get it done.”

Manten immediately seemed to shrunk and disappear, which could have been a pretty funny sight, in different circumstances. The look Kagura gave to Inuyasha Taisho, P.E. teacher, was not amused.

“I was handling it,” she said dryly.

“Yeah, and I got it done faster.”

She had to resist the urge to snarl at him. Inuyasha was an alright person, but what an asshole he could be.

”Hey,” he said, clearing his throat awkwardly, clearly unaware of the less than charitable thoughts that were going through her mind, “you wouldn’t have happened to see—”

“I’ll tell you where she is if you get Miroku and Sango back from their break,” she interrupted him. “I want to take mine, and we need someone by this table.”

She didn’t add that they were probably making out. Miroku had taken two bottles she’d gotten from kids who also wanted to spike the punch — which showed that there was no coordination there and was very irresponsible of them, because what if they’d all succeeded, that would have been a disaster — and winked at her before leaving with the perpetually unimpressed Sango. Thinking back on it, she probably should have stopped him then and there.

She’d high-fived him instead.

“Sure,” Inuyasha shrugged, not realizing what he was probably opening himself to seeing. “So?”

“She took a group of lonely kids to the library.”

“Keh. Of course she would,” Inuyasha scoffed, but his dumb, soft smile betrayed his feelings. That was how he’d been tricked into being here tonight, too. Because, of course, ‘she’ had also volunteered to watch over the dance.

Another day, another time, Kagura would have loved to meddle in the slow-burn developing between him and the literature teacher, the lovely Kagome Higurashi, because they were so damn entertaining, definitely her favorite couple among the faculty, but if she stood there one minute longer, she was going to spontaneously combust or something.

“Good. I’m off.”

“Hey, wait a second—”

“Hiten, here!”

The teenage boy begrudgingly handed her a bottle of what she knew at a glance was a very, very nice wine. Those kids really had too much money and too little supervision for their own good, which wasn’t something she could fix. Wasn’t her job, either, but sometimes, it disappointed her a little. Gave her heart an unpleasant squeeze. Every year, how many of those kids graduated, about to jump headfirst into a shitty life that would never get better? How many of them had she failed?

That wasn’t something she ever thought about, before starting to work here. It wasn’t a pleasant thought by any means, but she didn’t hate it, either. It felt— needed. It felt like it was something she should have thought about before. Then maybe she could have made a difference sooner, maybe she would be doing a better job.

On the other hand, if she didn’t think about it, maybe she wouldn’t need a drink so bad right now.

“Mrs. Kaze,” a calm, even voice, called from behind her as she was just about to leave the gym, “may I ask where you are going?”

Kagura froze, closed her eyes a second, then turned around, a charming smile on her lips.

“I was just taking my break, Mr. Taisho,” she said, ignoring the way her heart was hammering in her chest, as it always did whenever she talked to him. “Care to join me?”

Sesshomaru Taisho rose an eyebrow at her offer, and she had to remind herself not to hold her breath waiting for an answer. She wasn’t one of the teenagers she was supposed to chaperone, dammit!

That was all his fault, by the way. He had no business looking this good. He hadn’t dressed up, exactly, but he was wearing a fitting white shirt, which underlined a nicely chiseled chest, and black pants, and that was enough to create the illusion. She knew, from the looks he was getting, that she wasn’t the only one feeling that way. His long white hair, which he usually tied into a ponytail, were falling over his broad shoulders, and she would have killed for that hair, but that wasn’t what got her attention.

No, she was entirely focused on his face. He had the type of face she would love to paint someday, and that was the first thing that had struck her about him, when she’d first met him. He was beautiful, sure, but beauty could be boring. With him, it wasn’t. It wasn’t just his sharp jaw, thin lips, straight nose and high cheekbones. He was much more than the sum of his parts, but Kagura was convinced that even without all of that, if she had met his golden eyes, if she had seen the intelligence behind it, she would have been irremediably lost, regardless of anything else.

Sesshomaru glanced behind him at Inuyasha, who was sullenly watching over the drink table where she’d abandoned him. The two of them were brothers, but you would never have guessed it from the way they acted with one another. There was a rather painful story behind that, which Kagura had heard from Miroku, but she knew better than to bring it up with the brothers, so she kept her mouth shut.

“I suppose I could,” he finally said. “Inuyasha knows better than to let Rin get in trouble.”

Another subject it was better not to speak on. Sesshomaru’s adopted daughter was the apple of his eye, and he was, perhaps, just a little overprotective. Some had tried to point it out to him, but they’d learned that he didn’t take kindly to comments on his parenting, something no one in school ignored, at this point.

Unfortunately — for herself —, Kagura had never been really good at not speaking her mind, and there was only so much she could hold back in one night, especially for the same guy.

“Rin’s perfectly capable of getting in and out of trouble if she chooses to. I doubt there’s much Inuyasha could do to stop her from doing that.” I doubt there’s much you could do to stop her from doing that.

Sesshomaru glared at her in silence for a few seconds, but that wasn’t nearly long enough for Kagura to regret speaking her mind.

“Why would Rin want to do that?” he finally asked.

“She’s sixteen,” Kagura shrugged. “She might want to… experiment.” Like with that Kohaku kid I’m positive you don’t know about. “Are you coming or what?”

Sesshomaru looked over his shoulder one last time, sighed deeply, then nodded. Kagura deemed to be an absolute win. He was by no means talkative, after all, and this conversation had gone well enough, considering who it was with.

“Let’s get to my room,” she said, tilting her head towards the door. “Yours is depressing.”

By that, she meant there was a plain, black board — because Sesshomaru refused to change it to a white one — and nothing else. Evenly spaced desks, one larger one for him, no books, no posters, no nothing.

“And yours is too full of useless things,” he replied, frowning ever so slightly. “You should throw them out as soon as you’ve finished that project.”

Kagura let out a horrified exclamation. She could never do that. She knew what it felt like, when someone threw out something you’d poured your heart into, and she didn’t see the need for her pupils to experience that just yet. Of course, she couldn’t keep everything, and at the end of the year, she did have to throw away things that were left, but it had never crossed her mind to do that during the year.

“My room,” she argued as the two of them walked through the silent hallways, “is pretty and the students are happy to come here. I doubt you can say the same thing.”

“I’ve never heard anyone complain.”

“That’s because they’re terrified of you!”

In the dimly lit hallways, she missed the half-smile that curved Sesshomaru’s lips while the two of them argued. Even if she’d seen it, she would probably have assumed she’d imagined it, and yet, it was there. Sesshomaru was enjoying himself.

With a frustrated sigh, she pushed the doors to her room and let him in, turning on the light to reveal a place she was genuinely proud of. On the walls hung finished products, on the tables, paintings were still drying, and on the shelves were the results of that time they had tried pottery. Inuyasha probably hadn’t been happy that she had used his ex’s contact information to find a teacher for that, but he hadn’t said anything about it.

He’d just hidden in the gymnasium all day.

“There,” she said, satisfied with the scene. Esthetically, maybe it wasn’t the most pleasing sight, but she could see all the efforts poured into this work. She knew what belonged to which student, by name. She knew which themes had felt the most personal to whom, she knew…

Ugh, she was getting all mushy now.

“Let’s drink,” she said, pulling out the two bottles she’d gotten off of Hiten and Manten earlier.

But Sesshomaru wasn’t listening to her. Instead, he stepped closer to one of the walls and examined it in silence. Kagura narrowed her eyes at him. What exactly was he… Ah.

“Fractals,” he said, a hint of surprise in his voice.

“Yeah, well, an assignment that was inspired by fractals,” Kagura said, rolling her eyes. She started tapping her fingernails on the wood of the desk she was sitting on. This was more embarrassing than she’d thought it would be. Not that she’d thought about it much, actually, otherwise she probably wouldn’t have done it. “Are we drinking or what?”

Sesshomaru looked at her over his shoulder.

“I do not think that is a very good idea. We need to look out for the students. We cannot do that drunk.”

Why did he have to be so reasonable all the time?

“Why fractals?”

Kagura pushed herself off the desk with a sigh and walked to his side.

“Well, I was looking into some geometrical things,” for no reasons whatsoever, “and I thought fractals were… an interesting theme. Most kids went for a mirror type of thing, but some took more interest in the snowflake shape and others on…” She sighed, but couldn’t quite contain her amused smile. “The Triforce, I guess.”

Sesshomaru watched her as she spoke. Kagura was always passionate about things. When she cared about things, it was obvious in her voice, in her attitude. Right now, her eyes shone as she examined her students’ project, her lips curved into a smile he knew she couldn’t quite control. She smirked, a lot, but she always looked like she was caught off-guard when she realized she was genuinely smiling.

“That isn’t a bad idea to get them interested,” Sesshomaru conceded, voice perhaps softer than it usually was. “To pick things they can— have fun making, I suppose.”

“Well, we don’t all have that luxury,” Kagura grinned, shooting him a wink. “You’d have trouble doing that, wouldn’t ya?”

Sesshomaru rose an eyebrow, and took a step towards her. Kagura tried to step back, only to realize her back was already against the wall. She swallowed as the tall, white-haired man leaned towards her, towering over her even though she was wearing high heels. Curse him and his stupid height…

“Is that a challenge, Kagura?” he asked, and God, his voice was doing all sorts of things to her.

She didn’t think he’d used her name before. She found she quite liked it.

“Might be,” she replied, lifting her chin defiantly. “I’m pretty sure even if you tried, you couldn’t get your students interested.”

Something dark briefly lit up in his golden eyes, and Sesshomaru sighed.

“You’re an impossible woman,” he said, possibly for himself more than for her.

“Yeah, I kind of pride myself on—”

Sesshomaru kissed her. At first, it felt brusque, his lips crashing against hers but remaining immobile, his body so completely tense against hers.

Kagura reacted immediately. She didn’t try to understand it, didn’t stop to consider whether or not that was a good idea. Before she could have any form of cohesive thoughts, she was pushing herself against him, her hands were in his hair as she pulled him down against her. If that took him by surprise, he didn’t show it. In a second, he’d pulled her away from the wall and lifted her onto a desk, where she promptly wrapped her legs around his waist.

She’d thought about this for years, wondered of what he’d taste like, how his body would feel against hers. His warmth, seeping through his clothes, was almost surprising, opposed to his  usual cold demeanor. His large hands, his long fingers, moved slowly, up her legs, then on her waist, as he took his time to discover her body. It was the clash of her passion, her impatience, and his slow deliberateness.

When he pulled away from her, she let out an annoyed whimper, but didn’t try to hold him back. Instead, she took in the sight of him in that moment, and it made her smirk. She liked the way he looked right now. Disheveled, shirt all creased,  tie half-undone, hair a mess. She liked the way his lips parted as he tried to steady his breathing. She knew that in a second, he would look as tidy as ever, but for now, she enjoyed a sight she doubted many people has set their eyes on before.

He cleared his throat and averted his eyes, and her smile widened. It only lasted a second before he did compose himself again, and when he looked back at her, it was gone.

“I think it’s time we go back. Shall we?” he asked, offering her his hand.

Kagura took it and jumped from the desk, quickly smoothing out her skirt. It wasn’t her first rodeo, and she knew she could make herself look perfectly presentable before she walked back into the gym.

“You should give that back to Hiten’s parents,” Sesshomaru added, pointing at the bottles she’d abandoned by the door. “He probably took it from them.”

She rolled her eyes. He just had to know everything better than everyone else, didn’t he? Fine. She would. Because, of course, it was the right, smart thing to do. It was just very annoying. Ugh. The things she was doing because she liked him…

She grabbed his tie and took to straightening it, and he went very quiet. His face didn’t express any emotion, but he didn’t have to for her to be able to read him. Pulling him forward, she planted a quick kiss on his lips.

“Watch out, professor,” she whispered huskily, “you have some lipstick there.”

Then she took a step back, winked at him, and disappeared through the door.

Sesshomaru spent long seconds there, regaining control of his breathing. He couldn’t explain to himself what was different about Kagura. Everything about her was fascinating. The way she moved, the way she talked, the was she smiled. She brought color to his mostly dull, black and white world, something only his adopted daughter had been able to do before. He had never really considered acting on — whatever it was he was feeling, until tonight.

Now he couldn’t stop thinking about when to do it again.

It was a shame the year was ending, but they’d both still be here for the next one. At the thought, his lips curved into a smile.

He would be looking forward to it.

Hiii, thanks for reading! I’m tentatively coming back on Tumblr so you might see more of me in the next days. I don’t think I’ll be engaging with any content from the sequel, at least for the time being though. Hope you enjoyed this piece I wrote while I was gone!

[calliecat93]

ST: TNG S6 Watchthrough Episodes 14-17

Face of the Enemy: Troi has been kidnapped and forced to look/pose as a Romulan officer. Why? The one responsible isn’t saying, but to say that she’s unhappy would be an understatement. As it turns out, Troi was abducted by a part of the resistance from Unification and they need a Starfleet officer in case their current plan goes south. They even mention Spock… IDK if I can see him approving of an abduction but maybe they just forgot to mention that he disapproved that part… then again I guess it makes logical sense. Eh, whatever. So… this is by far the best Troi episode that they’ve done thus far. She was kidnapped yes, but she is NOT playing the damsel-in-distress. She’s not victimized. She’s not sexualized. She’s not forced into a poorly conceived romance or undergoes anything gross/f*cked up. She has to act the part of a cold-hearted authoritarian among a ship of Romulans and she is freakin’ badass. Especially when she decides that she’s had enough going and thoroughly tells off her kidnapper N’Vek and that he will listen to her. 100% perfection. They even managed to make her empathic abilities useful. Did putting her in the uniform cause this? Did they get it out of their systems in Man of the People? IDK but I am all for it! It was also an awesome look into the Romulans and the going-ons on their ship, something we haven’t really gotten since TOS’ Balance of Terror, and all the Romulans are done very well. N’Vek kidnapped Troi but he did it for his cause and is a great morally grey character, and the female Romulan Commander Toreth is an excellent antagonist. Plus it’s nice to see more of the resistance and to see them within the Romulan ranks. It was an excellent episode and I freakin’ loved it~! Thank you show for giving Troi the badass episode that she deserves (even if it was this late in the show's run), now keep it up! 5/5.

Tapestry: Two Q episodes this season? Hell yes~! So… Picard dies. Welp. Q decides to take this to give Picard an offer: go back in time and undo his greatest regret, the incident that caused his artificial heart that he told Wesley about in Samaritan Snare. Back when he was a hot-blooded rebel who got himself into a fight that got him stabbed in the heart. In doing so, he now has a chance to correct all the wrongs and settle all he regrets in his life since that day. So up to this point, Q’s episodes since Q Who, while still entertaining and interesting, had been more light-hearted. Q still came off as an all-powerful being (Deja Q aside which him not being was the plot point), but his antics had been more comedic or light-hearted in comparison. In this episode, he’s acting like a trickster as per usual, but again more with the purpose to teach Picard a lesson. Why isn’t made very clear aside from maybe he just likes Picard (take that however way you’d like), but it’s nice to see this version of Q again while still utterly stealing the show. Picard got to undo the event… but would it have really turned out any better had it not happened? Would not making mistakes, having regrets, and making all the supposed ‘right’ choices when he should have had truly made a better impact in his present? That’s the funny thing about life, it’s easy to look back and go ‘if I had done this one thing differently, it would have been better’ and te desire to correct it is very powerful. But with mistakes comes the ability to learn. To grow. To mature. You’ll always have guilt and regrets, but you have to accept that this is what you chose and go about your life. Picard is a man full of thrown-away opportunities, pain, and so much more… but it also caused him to become a strong leader, intelligent, a risk-taker, and even with all his faults become a better person in his present day. Now obviously he doesn’t actually die, but he sure as Hell learned the lesson. The life he would have lead would have been unsatisfying, his old regrets replaced with new ones, and been unfulfilling for a man like himself. Now he can truly value the one that he has and the people in it. This was a fantastic episode. It’s crazy how Picard went from one of my least favorites to now one of my absolute favorites. His development and growth from a strict, aloof authoritarian to a much more reasonable father-like figure and much more humbled man and the captain has been excellent, and this episode just helps further that. The only real complaint is there’s not much time devoted to showing how his crew ended up without him, but that’s minor and doesn’t take anything away at all. Very well done~! 5/5.

Birthright: Okay, guess we got a second two-parter… and apparently it crosses over with DS9. Didn’t see that coming. But alrighty, I’m game~!

Part One: So the crew is on Deep Space 9 to assist in repairs of some incident involving the Bajorans and the Cardassians that I guess I’ll find out about when I get to the show. While there Worf is approached by an alien who informs him that his dead father? He may not be dead after all, having been kept in a Romulan prison. Worf doesn’t take it well. He ain’t the only one having daddy issues. While working with DS9‘s CMO Dr. Bashir, Data gets knocked out has a vision of Dr. Soong (a much younger one than in Brothers). Normally Data can’t dream so he’s pretty taken aback by this. So as a first part, this was pretty good. It sets up Worf’s plot well with him deciding to break into the Romulan camp to find out the truth and rescue the Klingons there. Data’s plot is overall nice. He’s never dreamed before so him trying to track down why is very understandable, especiallya after Picard suggests that he quit going through facts and try a more creative outlet to get his answers. So what happened? As it turns out Dr. Soong made it so that when Data reached a certain cognitive point, he would obtaint he ability to dream and he made an AI version of himself to talk to him. I guess he would have explained this to him in Brothers had Lore not shown up/had he not died. It was a really touching moment. Soong’s still not exactly the most ideal parent, but his AI copy seemed legit proud of how far Data’s come. Is it out of ego, legit parental pride, or both? That’s up for you to decide. As this is my first look at Bashir… so far I don’t have too manys torng opinions. he seems to act more liek a Science Officer or Engineer han a CMO, but he is cute and so far liekabe. He’s curious about Data, but doesn’t dehumanize him like Maddox in The Measure of a Man did, if anything he notes Data’s more human-like elements like being able to grow hair than any of the nuts and bolts. He seems pretty well liked from what I’ve seen int he fandom, so I’ll see how that holds when I reach DS9 but I like him so far. I do have some issues, but that more impacts the Overall so I’ll save it for there. So we end with Worf discovering his father’s true fate… and he’s informed by the Klingons there that he’s never leaving the camp. Welp. How will Worf get out of this one in Part 2? We shall see. 4/5.

Part Two: So what the heck is going on? Well, Worf’s father is infact dead, but there were captured Klingons. As they weren’t able to die with honor nor could they return home as it would dishonor their families (Klingons prefer death to capture), they chose to remain in the camp and live out the rest of their lives there. So now Worf is among multiple Klingons, the vast majority of which know nothing about their heritage, culture, and customs and had it outright demonized. To them, the lives they have are the norm and they have no desire to change it. Worf may have been out of touch with Klingons due to being raised on Earth, but at least he can explore it and get in touch with it. The ones in the camp? They can’t do that. They’re essentially in a gilded cage. Yeah, there's the argument that they achieved peace between Klingons and Romulans… by imprisoning said Klingons and demonizing their culture to them with the older Klingons allowing it. Though it seems it’s also because of broken spirits and the dishonor they’d have faced otherwise which is worst than death to them. There’s even one girl, Ba’el, who is half Klingon, half-Romulan… and despite what gets said I don’t get the sense that her parents' union was a fully consensual one. This was pretty good. Worf has found a group that like him were out of touch with their heritage, and he is now able to educate them and guide them. With all that’s happened and his struggle to be a true Klingon and find his way, this was really nice to have. He’s still clinging onto his hatred of Romulans and this episode isn’t going to help it dissipate, but at least it was addressed and Ba’el being upset at being judged due to how she was born was very much justified. Heaven knows that the themes here are still very much relevant in today’s time. Worf’s guidance pays off in the end and at last, they can be free. The younger Klingons have a rough road likely ahead of them since we know that Klingon society isn’t exactly the easiest to get through, but at least they have a chance at freedom. It was a very strong Worf episode and it was great to see~. 4/5.

Overall: Okay, so overall… it’s pretty uneasy. The Worf parts are good.. As I said, it was nice to see him in a position to give guidance to a group even more out of touch than he is. It was very wel done. The issues are mainly with Part One. We have this plot where they go to DS9… and we are barely there. We have Dr. Bashir… and only him. None of the other characters. We don't even see O’Brien despite him having transferred to DS9 at this point. Maybe the actors were busy sot they could only pick one but it kinda makes doing a crossover cheap. Bashir doesn’t even get a lot to do, you could write him out and very little would change. On the upside this means that viewers who haven’t watched DS9 won’t be confused nor would DS9 be required viewing, but it also kind of defeats the purpose of bringing DS9 in. It’s essentially just window dressing. Data’s plot, while nice, is completely dropped in Part Two. It feels like they were required to do a two-parter, didn’t have enough of the Worf plot to fill it out, and came up with the Data dream plot and using DS9 to fill it out. The crew also don’t really do anything in either part. As such, aside from getting Worf into the place he needs to be, Part One feels irrelevant. As such, I can’t give it a perfect rating. It was still good, but as a two-parter Part One bogs it down, but still allows for Part Two to happen. Overall, pretty good. 4/5.

[generallynerdy]

Maybe it does all add up to a single hush (Kanan Jarrus/Cal Kestis)

Summary: 15 years after the Fall, 10 years after the death of Caleb Dume, Kanan Jarrus and Cal Kestis find each other again.

Warnings: Jedi: Fallen Order Spoilers, Implied/Referenced Character Death, cursing, brief suicidal ideation/thoughts Word Count: 5,143

Author’s Note: the effort I had to put in not to make this another series...I had to stage an intervention for myself. Anyway, I love Cal and Kanan’s dynamic, whether as partners or as friends, and an Idea struck me that wouldn’t leave. Also, idk how old most people think Cal was when the war ended based on JFO clips, but I always just kind of went with him being the same age as Kanan at the end of the war bc I love them and I need them to know each other. The title is from the poem “So They Say— They Finally Nailed— The Proton’s Size— & Hope— Dies—” by Rosebud Ben-Oni.

Read On AO3

*

When the hard part is over, Cal returns to Bracca, his new lightsaber tucked under Cere’s old robe that still smells like the Temple, with the intention of burning Prauf’s body.

Caleb still had his own robe. He kept it in the deepest part of their shared closet, bringing it out only on the worst days. If Prauf saw it, he never mentioned it, and both boys were grateful for it. There was a lot he didn’t mention.

Cal thinks, sometimes, that Prauf knew who they were before. After all, it’s hard to look at two abandoned kids in the wake of the Clone Wars that can survive being riggers and not think of the thousands of Jedi younglings that died on Empire Day. It’s even harder to ignore two lightsabers and one ratty, brown robe.

Maybe Prauf wasn’t sure.

But he had to be, on that last day, when they found that fighter. When Cal caught him with the Force. He knew then, maybe before. But he still took care of them.

Maybe he knew when the Empire showed up, when Caleb heard the roar of a TIE Fighter and looked instantly to the redheaded boy beside him like he was about to die before his eyes. Maybe that was the moment he put it all together. Or was it his last moment? When the world began to go dark and both Cal and Caleb lashed out in fury at his killers with matching, bright blue blades—did he know? Did he know that he died for the children of an already dying Order?

Standing over the bonfire, Cal holds the Holocron in shaky hands.

Did Prauf know his sacrifice would save the life of every child just like them?

Cal moves away from the flames to the gap in the ground that they’d held Caleb over, his calloused hands clawing at the Ninth Sister, who clutched his throat.

Deep in Cal’s heart, he knows half the reason he beat her was for his best friend. He’d almost given in to rage but stopped himself at the memory of him. Revenge is not the way of the Jedi. But justice is. And so is survival, these days.

Caleb’s lightsaber fell long before he did. When he did fall, he went screaming bloody murder, the noise echoing in the silence that rang in Cal’s ears.

Standing at the edge now, Cal almost considers simply...stepping off.

He can survive it. He has before. And what’s to say that Caleb isn’t waiting at the bottom?

Caleb...used to like animals, he remembers. He preferred them to plants, which are unreadable if you don’t have practise with them. Animals, like people, are complex but tell you in simple terms what they want and what they don’t want. Cal has always been better with plants. They’re simple, grounding, natural. Caleb used to tease him for it.

The only plant he ever managed to grow on this place was a seedling in a boot filled with dirt he kept in their room. It had been making good progress in their last weeks, enough that he’d actually felt some semblance of hope.

And then...and then he’d lost everything. Again.

The Holocron burns in his hand, reminding him that there is more in store for him than an endless chasm. Hundreds of thousands of Force-sensitive children are depending on him now, him and the Mantis crew.

Cal lets out a shaky breath. “I couldn’t save you,” he whispers to the wind. “But maybe I can save them.”

On the way back to the Mantis, he turns around to go find the robe and the plant in its boot. The robe smells like blaster fire and the plant is wilting but both are comforting: one because it’s familiar and the other because it’s not quite gone yet.

*

Kanan changes his name.

It doesn’t feel right, hearing his given name from anyone that isn’t Cal or Prauf. The first and only time it happens, nausea sinks in and he quickly makes the change.

Some days, he wants to go back to Bracca. Some part of him still hopes Cal survived the Inquisitors, that he’s waiting for him back at what used to be home, but the logical part of him knows that he’s not. Kanan surviving was a miracle, a fluke, and those don’t happen twice. Sometimes he wishes it had never happened at all.

He managed to save his lightsaber, as broken to bits as it was. It and the necklace Cal gave him are all he has now.

Kanan doesn’t let himself grieve, as much as he knows he needs to. He hardly did it before, on Bracca, but now he won’t allow even a tear. Surviving is the only thing on his mind, though for what he doesn’t know.

When he almost loses that little piece of metal on a string, though, he breaks down sobbing.

It’s the stupidest thing, really. All those lessons on attachment are lost on him now, as he cries over the rusted symbol of the Jedi Order on a piece of scrap metal that Cal had put on a cord for him. He keeps it close to his heart, hanging off his neck every hour of every day if he can help it, and getting that close to losing it is the last straw.

He knows now, why he’s surviving. Because Cal would want him to.

Meeting Hera is a relief. She’s kind but curious, which is more of a bane than it should be.

(Painfully, he’s reminded of himself as a youngling. His Master always said his frequent questions were what drew her to him.)

She’s the first to know about his past, both as a Jedi and a rigger on Bracca. He doesn’t think to mention Caleb, doesn’t think it would matter to anyone, not until after a mission gone bad.

Hera is putting bacta on his wounds and graciously ignoring his constant wincing when she sees it.

She points to the cord after examining what hangs on it for a minute. “For someone who’s trying to be discreet, you wear a lot of Jedi stuff.”

Kanan snorts. “Yeah, well, I won’t get rid of this one.”

“It’s important to you,” she points out. “Can I ask why?”

He hesitates, swallowing roughly. “My best friend gave it to me...on Bracca, befo-before the Inquisitors caught up to us,” he admits. “He didn’t make it.”

Her eyes are full of empathy, something she never lacks. “What was his name?”

“Cal,” he says, voice quiet. “Cal Kestis.”

“If you remember his name,” she promises, “he’ll always be with you.”

It’s not so much a Twi’lek belief as it is her own but it reminds Kanan of Grey more than anyone else. His buir. The clones subscribed to many Mandalorian beliefs, including the echoing of remembrances for the dead. Before the abrupt end of the war, little Caleb used to say his every morning with his Master and buir.

So, he decides to start again. It’s difficult, at first, to even get through the first names, his oldest names.

“Depa Billaba,” he says through tears in the quiet of pre-dawn, “Grey, Styles, Prauf...”

He stops.

It’s hard to think, even harder to say, but he knows he needs to. He needs to tell himself the truth, needs to accept the truth.

“Cal—”

He sobs, shaky and painful. His throat burns just like it did when he fell down the chasm on Bracca, screaming his head off, part out of fear for himself but mostly for fear of what was happening to Cal above him. It hurts to speak it into the world, into the Force and those marching on. Cal is among them now, he knows. He just...has to admit it.

“Cal Kestis,” he finally says, the admission wobbly and half-hearted.

He never loses the necklace again.

*

They’ve finally settled on Bogano, after wiping every trace of it from Imperial data servers. The Holocron is safely locked away in the Vault, guarded by their crew and the Binog, fondly called ‘the big guy,’ mostly by fault of Greez.

Though mostly self-sufficient, occasionally some of them will leave the planet for supplies they can’t make themselves. While off on supply runs, well, they can’t help it if some Imperials just look like easy pickings. Apparently, slavers get the same treatment because Merrin ends up a figure in some sort of oral tradition of a Tatooine family, which Cal finds hilarious. Cere is not so amused and grounds them—literally, in that they can’t leave Bogano—for over a month.

Cal spends most of it repairing old platforms and ziplines, not to mention entertaining the Boglings.

They’re fond of him, for some reason, and BD-1, who loves to run around with them while Cal works. One in particular, named Rabid by Merrin after she stole her entire plate of food, is especially loveable.

Cal snickers as he pulls Rabid off his shoulder. “I have to finish this, then I can play.”

Rabid is not pleased with his answer, nibbling at his trousers.

“Rabid,” he chides, ignoring her in favour of his work. He laughs again. “I used to know somebody who would’ve loved you, annoying as you are.”

BD, who has taken Rabid’s place, beeps curiously.

Cal’s face falls a little. He pauses in his work. “Oh. I guess I’ve never told you about Caleb, huh?”

The little droid shakes his head.

Cal never intended to talk about Caleb to anyone, really, but it all comes pouring out. He tells BD and Rabid all about his old best friend, his confidant. The story is a long one, reaching from the creche all the way to Bracca and its bitter end. By the time he’s finished, his voice is quiet and hesitant, his grief echoing through.

Rabid curls up in his lap, nudging his hand, while BD sits in front of them, tilting his head.

A little light on the side of his scope says that he’s recording. He does that a lot, Cal knows, for prosperity, just like he was programmed to. Cal doesn’t mind, really.

When he finishes, BD gets his attention by chirping.

“Huh? You have something to show me?”

BD’s projector whirrs to life and a blue image appears. It’s Cordova, again, but not a video this time. It’s only a holo, of him and another Jedi—Master Jocasta Nu, Cal realises. Master Cordova is dead asleep on her shoulder and she’s leaned over to kiss his brow.

“Oh,” Cal breathes out, something jarring in his chest.

BD-1 thinks that he and Caleb were—well, were like that.

“I—” he pauses. “I dunno, buddy. I never asked him if...but I think…”

Well. It’d be a stretch to say Cal loved him, but he certainly cared for him more than he ever did anyone else. When they were thirteen and stupid, he might’ve said he had a crush on him. After the Fall, on Bracca, he just...didn't think of it. Caleb was all he had and he clung but he never...thought about what it was, thought about what they were.

It hurts to think of now, all that he missed.

“I don’t know if I did,” Cal tells BD quietly. “But I think I- I think I could have.”

BD asks about Caleb a lot, after that. Maybe he can tell that talking about him makes Cal happy. The others know about the one he lost but they don’t ask. They all have their demons and Cal’s are just...just too great to pile on another person. BD, though, is a little easier. All he wants is to see Cal smile again.

*

“What’s this?”

Kanan doesn’t think to look up at whatever Ezra—the newest addition to the Ghost crew—has swiped from him, until he notices a weight missing from his neck. His head snaps up to where a cord hangs from Ezra’s hand.

“Give that back,” Kanan growls, not meaning to be so aggressive.

Ezra’s eyes widen. He holds it out immediately, dropping it into Kanan’s open hand. “Sorry,” he mutters, watching curiously as Kanan puts it back on.

Almost by instinct, Kanan tucks the piece of scrap metal back under his shirt and breathes out a sigh of relief. He goes back to his datapad. Then, a moment later, when he notices the entire room is still silent, he looks up. Sabine and Zeb have joined Ezra in staring incredulously.

“What?” Kanan asks, his voice back to normal.

“I’ve never seen you that mad before,” Sabine admits with a half-shrug, though her eyes betray her concern.

Zeb nods, arms crossed. “And I’ve never seen you without that thing on your neck.”

“Yeah, you even sleep with it!” Ezra adds. “What’s up with that?”

“I—” He goes to make an excuse but stops, his hand fidgeting with the necklace.

“You don’t have to…” Sabine starts to say, but he shakes his head.

He sighs. To be honest, he’s surprised Zeb and Sabine haven’t asked before. “My best friend gave it to me.”

Ezra immediately sits down across from him, eyes wide. “Another Jedi?”

Admittedly, the kid is a lot like he used to be: always asking questions, always pushing. It’s going to get him in trouble someday but for now, it just gets him more stories out of Kanan, stories about the Jedi.

“Yeah. Yeah, another Padawan. We grew up in the Temple together.” He smiles, a fickle and fleeting thing. “He was picked by a Master before me, so we were separated...at the end. But I found him again, on the planet he was last assigned. He gave me this.”

Ezra’s face is bright, curious. Sabine, on the other hand, looks prepared for a gut-punch.

“What happened to him?” she asks quietly.

Kanan exhales sharply, ruefully. “Inquisitors. After 5 years of nothing, they came out of nowhere. I never saw what happened to him. For all I know, they still have him.”

“Oh,” Ezra says, his face falling.

“You know, Zeb,” Kanan begins, not wanting to make things any sadder, “his Master was a Lasat.”

He scoffs. “No way.”

“He was, swear it on my life!” he claims, raising a hand. “First time I saw you, I thought Master Tapal came back to haunt me for being a bad influence.”

Zeb snickers. “Bad influence? You?”

“Eh, a nudge here and there. We were not good kids.”

He tells them a few stories before Sabine and Zeb are called away by Hera and Chopper, leaving Ezra and Kanan alone. Ezra makes to follow them but stops, his expression cautiously blank.

“What is it, Ezra?” Kanan asks, already knowing that he’s brimming with curiosity.

“You said he was...your best friend?”

He frowns. “Yeah, ever since we were kids. Why?”

“I dunno. The way you talked about him just reminded me of my parents,” Ezra admits hesitantly. “Sappy. Did you—?”

Kanan sighs, touching his necklace again.

He had always been more reckless than Cal, back then. He threw himself into everything, into every situation. No matter the problem or the person, he was all-in. No matter what. And that included Cal. Once he took that step, he was karked. Before he knew it, he was hanging onto the redhead’s every word.

Cal was...different. Kanan had known that for a long time but the war only brought it out.

Kanan had a stupid crush, that was all. But on Bracca, it was everything and more.

He’d known then, known for a long time. Cal had never seen it but he didn’t have to. Kanan was fine the way things were. It didn’t feel right, bringing things up after...well, after. So Cal never knew.

(Sure, he could see the past of things with a single touch of his hands but he’d always been pretty oblivious.)

“Love him?” Kanan asks, raising an eyebrow.

Ezra nods.

It’s without hesitation that he answers. “I did.”

When they go in search of Master Luminara, Kanan’s kids buy him a precious few minutes to search for a Cal Kestis in the prisoner logs. He’s not there, of course, but Kanan thinks he prefers that to a death certificate.

*

“Ho-oly shit,” Greez says over comms one day. “You guys better get up here.”

Cal shares a look with Cere, following her out of the workshop with BD on his shoulder. Merrin has already teleported to Greez’s side when they arrive, lightsabers in hand. Greez passes the young man—not so young anymore, Cere has commented teasingly as he desperately shaves away any trace of his age—a pair of electrobinoculars.

Squinting through the scope, he spies a trail of smoke on the horizon attached to a ship.

“Kriffing hells,” Cere says after she gets a look.

In all their 10 years here, no one has ever landed—or crashed, for that matter—on the planet. The few ships that have come into orbit were Imperial and always quickly dealt with before word could get out. This one, however, isn’t exactly your standard Imperial cruiser. And it’s wrecked.

“Looks like a modified VCX-100 light freighter to me,” Greez says. “It’s a nice ship.”

Merrin rolls her eyes. “Are we waiting for them to come to us?”

“Looks like we don’t have to,” Cere declares, still looking through the binocs. “They’re headed this way, six hostiles. Three humans, a Lasat, a Twi’lek, and a droid.”

Greez laughs. “A Lasat? We’re kriffed.”

“Says you,” Merrin snorts.

“I’m with her,” Cal agrees, a cocky smile on his face. “Merrin and I will take the Vault. Cere, Greez, take home. BD will lure the big ones our way.”

“You got it, kid.”

Cere puts a hand on his shoulder before he can follow Merrin—more or less, seeing as she just teleports everywhere. “Be careful.”

The worst part of intruders is that even the hypothetical good ones can’t know Bogano is here. They’ll have to knock them out hard enough for their memories to be spotty and dump them in a nearby system if they’re smart—and they are.

Cal slips on his robe, a gift from Cere, and flips the hood up, making for the Vault.

If these visitors think they can take the Holocron, they have another thing coming.

*

“Are you sure we can find help here?” Ezra asks for the third time as they approach the massive building in the distance. “It looks...deserted.”

Hera sighs for the third time. “Scanners said there were signs of life here in a higher concentration than the rest of the planet. It’s worth checking out.”

Sabine gestures through the mild fog. “There’s buildings up ahead.”

“Good, let’s head there,” Kanan says, a cautious hand on his lightsaber.

Hopping across platforms is a pain, but they all manage to make their way to what looks like a residential area. A small path digs into the ground, leading deeper inside the planet’s crust. With a look at her second in command, Hera starts toward it. However, she stops when Kanan freezes.

“Do you feel that?” he asks suddenly, squinting as he looks into the distance.

Something is...tugging at him. Something in the Force is insistent that he go...that way. The feeling of incompleteness settles inside his chest.

“No…” Ezra replies uneasily. “What is it?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know.” After a moment, he decides. “I think I should go this way. You guys go on ahead.”

Zeb scoffs. “I’ll go with you. We don’t know who lived here. Could be Inquisitors for all we know.”

“They generally prefer places with lava,” Ezra counters.

The group splits, with Hera leading Sabine, Chopper, and Ezra into the abode. She and Sabine have their blasters raised, while Ezra keeps a hand on his lightsaber. Chopper is always ready to give someone a nasty shock.

“Anyone home?” Sabine calls.

There’s no answer.

They come across a small kitchen and dining room, where two chairs are pulled out. Over one hangs a small, ratty brown robe with multiple blaster burns.

Ezra plucks it off the back of the seat. “Woah, cool,” he breathes. “Very Jedi-like, huh?”

“Leave it, Ezra,” Hera chides fondly.

“You’d best,” says another voice.

All three of them jump as a lightsaber hums to life. Double-bladed, the weapon burns bright white throughout the room, illuminating its bearer, a woman with dark skin and hair, and her companion.

“Inquisitor!” Ezra cries, lighting his own.

The lightsaber wielder’s friend fires off a blaster right at Hera, who’s shoved out of the way by Sabine. Chopper shrieks, his head spinning.

“Look out!”

On the surface, Zeb follows Kanan to the edge of the platform. There, they find a zip line, which they intend to brave before a series of chirps stops them.

Zeb yelps and lifts his rifle when a droid appears, only stopped by Kanan’s raised hand.

It’s...a buddy droid.

“Hey, little guy,” Kanan greets cautiously. “What are you doing all the way out here?”

He beeps excitedly and backs away, indicating that they should follow. With a single leap, he attaches himself to the zipline and whirrs as he zooms all the way down.

“Don’t tell me we’re following the droid,” Zeb groans.

Kanan just smiles. “We’re following the droid.”

Using the Force to balance himself, he leaps atop the zipline and begins to tiptoe his way down. Behind him, Zeb sighs but reaches up to grab the line, following right after him. They land on a platform a good distance away, where a small slope is guarded by two statues; the beings depicted are of an unknown species, one lost to time.

“I don’t like this,” Zeb says as soon as he hops onto the grass. “It’s like the start of a bad horror holo.”

Kanan snorts. “If that were true, it would be raining tookas and massiffs.”

The buddy droid whirrs loudly to get their attention and bounces his way up the sloping path, on top of which sits a fluffy native creature. Kanan doesn’t know what they’re called, but this one is adorable. She chirps at them, much like the droid did.

“Oh, you’re a sweet little thing, aren’t you?” Kanan coos, moving to meet the creature and let her sniff his hand.

She makes a happy noise and nudges him.

“Ugh,” Zeb mutters, “more things.”

The droid and the creature lead them to the entrance of the massive, ancient building that had caught Kanan’s eye from the crash site. He steps in front of Zeb, placing his hand on the runes in the rock as the Force sings. This isn’t what’s calling him, but…

“Something is here,” Kanan whispers.

“I hope it’s not something that wants to eat us,” Zeb says long-sufferingly.

The slab of rock retreats into the space above, leaving an open tunnel of sorts.

“Karabast,” the Lasat curses, “I hate Jedi stuff.”

Kanan rolls his eyes. “C’mon.”

It’s a tight fit, but the two squeeze their way through, Kanan leading the way. They exit into a large cavern filled with a few inches of water, just enough to be annoying. Standing in the midst of the cave is a figure in a brown robe. The moment Kanan spots him, he draws his lightsaber and stands in front of Zeb until he can ready his rifle, too.

“You are not meant to be here.”

Kanan frowns. “The Force says otherwise. Who are you?”

“The guardian of this vault. You need to leave,” the figure says.

From underneath their robe, they draw a very familiar weapon. With a snap and a hiss, two blades of yellow light appear. Kanan lights his own lightsaber in response but it’s too little too late.

A green smoke encompasses Zeb, who yelps as he’s flung across the room by a pissed off Nightsister—which makes zero sense because they’re all supposed to be dead.

Kanan makes for his friend, interrupted only by the mysterious guardian rushing at him.

“Where did you get that lightsaber?” the faceless figure hisses.

And, well, Kanan doesn’t know how to answer that question except with another question. “Where did you get yours? ”

Back in the residential platform, Hera leaps in between Ezra and the lightsaber-wielder. “Wait!” she cries.

Both stop, staring at her like she’s crazy.

“That’s a healed kyber crystal, isn’t it?” Hera asks, pointing to her white blade. “You’re not an Inquisitor. You’re a Jedi.”

The woman lowers her lightsaber just slightly. “I was.”

“I’m one, too!” Ezra chirps, popping out from behind Hera. “Er. I’m training to be one!”

Her eyes widen. “A Padawan? Who’s your Master?”

Before he can answer, Hera speaks for him. “Kanan Jarrus. But his name used to be Caleb Dume.”

“Caleb?” she asks, her voice hushed in awe. “Depa Billaba’s Padawan?”

She nods.

Abruptly, the woman turns sharply on her heel, raising her comm unit to her lips and rushing out the door. “Cal, they’re non-hostiles, non-hostiles! Don’t hurt your boyfriend!”

“What!?” Ezra and Sabine cry at the same time, the former’s voice cracking.

Without another word, they follow her and her friend outside.

*

Merrin has the Lasat out of the Vault long before Cal gets his opponent to the entrance, admittedly. Lightsaber to lightsaber combat is significantly more balanced than Nightsister magick against a bo-rifle, poor guy.

Still, Cal pushes the intruder to the top of the Vault’s slope, the man just on the edge of slipping.

That’s when Cere’s voice crackles through the comms.

“Cal, they’re non-hostiles, non-hostiles! Don’t hurt your boyfriend!”

Hand grasping the intruder’s shirt, holding him above the edge, Cal freezes. He meets brown eyes and suddenly can’t breathe, gaze drifting to the cord around the taller man’s neck. His gloveless fingers just barely skim the material, Force signatures exploding in front of his eyes.

And suddenly, he can see it. He can see himself, painstakingly painting that symbol onto the metal and bartering for a cord. He sees an older Caleb sobbing in the quiet of an unfamiliar room, clutching that necklaces like a lifeline.

“Did you—?”

“Love him? I did.”

A shaky breath passes his lips.

“Caleb?” he asks, voice breaking on the name that’s so unfamiliar on his tongue.

The grip on his wrist loosens.

Kanan hears the woman’s voice, clear as day, but he almost doesn’t believe it at first. He almost doesn’t believe when he hears that whispered question. Caleb. It’s the name of a stranger and yet—yet when that robe’s hood slips off to reveal red hair and bright green eyes, he feels like he’s never known any other name.

“Cal?”

The Force wasn’t calling him to the Vault. It was calling him to its guardian.

Silence falls, the rest of the world fading away. All they’ve been through, all they’ve seen, and it all stops in this moment. It all adds up to this.

Cal lets go of his shirt, letting him balance precariously at the top of the muddy slope down from the Vault. Neither of them speaks—neither of them knows what to feel, except bright, unparalleled joy.

Cal doesn’t let himself flinch when Caleb reaches, his fingers just barely skimming his cheek.

He doesn’t get much further. Green smoke encompasses his body and before Cal knows it, his best friend is being flung from the Vault entrance to the platform beyond, screaming as he goes. The platform beyond, where the Oggdo used to reside, is covered in flowers. It was there that Cal planted his little sapling in a boot and there that the plant spread, covering almost every inch of land with budding blue and yellow flowers.

Cal whirls around to see Merrin, her eyes glowing green.

“Merrin, no!” he protests, eyes wide with desperation. “That’s Caleb!”

Merrin’s glowing fades as she glances at the nearby Lasat and her friend’s horrified face. “My mistake,” she says in that tone that says she knows exactly who he is.

(They were taking too long to speak, in her opinion.)

Cal huffs at her before getting a running start toward the entrance, using the Force to balance himself as he slides down that muddied slope, sailing right toward Caleb. Near the end, he leaps into the air, propelling himself a mere few feet from his collapsed companion.

“Caleb!” he cries, stumbling the last few steps and falling to his knees, where Caleb is face-down in the damp grass, his hair-tie mysteriously missing.

Caleb is—well, he’s okay. He’s just...wheezing with laughter.

He pushes himself up on his elbows and flips over just as Cal makes it to him, his chest heaving with the effort. And still, he laughs, a half-mad sound.

“Are you o—?” Cal is cut off by his own yelp when Caleb flings himself up from the ground and pulls Cal with him.

He embraces the redhead, dragging them both to their feet so he can swing Cal around. Cal shrieks and hitches his legs up on his hips, as difficult as that is with the man’s height—the bastard, he grew. He reaches desperately for Caleb’s shoulders to hold onto when they spin, completely unaware of Cere and the rest of Caleb’s group appearing on the platform.

Finally, Caleb stops, looking up at Cal with shining eyes and a smile that could kill a man. Cal leans forward, letting his forehead fall against his and breathing out a sigh of relief.

“I thought the Inquisitors had you,” Caleb whispers, a thousand more words in the back of his mind, too many to count.

Cal’s eyes well with tears. “I thought you were dead.”

Caleb has always been more reckless than Cal but the latter was the one to hear his words echo through that necklace, an admission years too late. It’s because of that little echo that Cal buries a hand in the hair that falls to his shoulders and pushes his head upward, meeting him in a searing kiss.

Out of shock, Caleb both squeaks—adorable, Cal thinks—and clutches the back of Cal’s shirt for a moment before dropping him. Luckily, his instinct has him landing on his feet.

The drop pulls him away and, looking up, he sees Caleb looking shell-shocked.

He just grins, grabs the taller man’s shirt, and pulls him in for another kiss, this one saying much more than the first. Caleb plants his feet and buries a hand in Cal’s hair for good measure.

They both ignore Greez cackling in the distance and Sabine’s whispered: “What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck —”

Because in that moment, all is right with the galaxy. Cal’s flowers are fully grown and blossoming beneath their feet, Caleb’s robe is waiting for him in the other room, and they have each other again.

And that’s all they’ve ever really wanted, isn’t it?

*

River’s Tags: @hahaboop & @mystoragehatesme

Masterlist

[ibijau]

welp, here’s my part of a winter exchange organised by on the xisang discord! I got to write for @scumvillainrights and it was fun~

It was Nie Huaisang’s fault for arriving a day early. He had just felt too impatient to visit the Cloud Recesses again. That, and it was just so cold at the altitude he flew at, so he had pushed himself hard to reach his destination faster. The downsides to that, he’d found out upon arriving to the gate of the Cloud Recesses, was that nothing was ready to receive him, and that the sect leader was absent dealing with some other business, as were Lan Qiren and Lan Wangji.

Having been given a jade token even before his brother’s death, Nie Huaisang was still allowed inside, but it was clear to him that the Lans just didn’t quite know what to do with him. And while it would have been easy, and perhaps even mildly funny to embarrass those Lan disciples by requesting a room be given to him right away to rest and refresh himself, Nie Huaisang simply did not feel like being cruel. It really was his fault for being early this once, when he was usually more likely to be late. So Nie Huaisang assured the disciples welcoming him that he was in no hurry, and asked to be allowed to enjoy a walk in the Cloud Recesses, since they were so beautiful with the thin layer of snow that winter had brought.

The request, of course, was granted, and Nie Huaisang started wandering. Before long he realised that even the peaceful scenery of the Cloud Recesses couldn't lift his heavy mind, not this time, not anymore. The last few years had taken their toll on him, between the loss of his brother, the weight of responsibility, and the burden of revenge. Something had broken inside, Nie Huaisang thought. Something that not even this place he used to love could soothe, nor the perspective of finally having time with Lan Xichen again.

As he walked, deep in thought, Nie Huaisang’s feet took him to the hall where the Lans conducted punishment for disobedient disciples. This, at least, nearly made him smile. He used to come here often when he was a guest student, and it seemed his legs remembered the path too well. Still, it was no place for him to be. Nie Huaisang was about to turn away when he heard some singing.

Music, of course, was nothing unusual in the Cloud Recesses. Every disciple learned to play an instrument, usually the guqin. But because of Lan rules that favoured the quiet, it was rare to hear any singing. In fact, Nie Huaisang wondered if he'd ever heard such a thing before. It made him curious enough that he followed that voice inside the courtyard of the hall.

There, in the snow, with his back to Nie Huaisang, a kneeling boy was singing to himself. It couldn't have been part of his punishment to sing. In fact, Nie Huaisang was sure the boy would get harshly scolded if he were discovered by other Lan disciples.

A shame. The boy had a good, steady voice, full of energy but pleasant to the ear. It seemed out of place in the Cloud Recesses, the same way Nie Huaisang knew he did in the Unclean Realm.

Perhaps that was the reason why Nie Huaisang clapped when the song ended.

The boy cried out in surprise, again too loud for the Cloud Recesses, and turned to look at Nie Huaisang with big frightened eyes.

"Gongzi!" he exclaimed, quickly looking around in case Nie Huaisang weren't alone. "Are you lost, gongzi? I don't think visitors are allowed here."

Seeing his face, Nie Huaisang guessed the boy to be twelve or thirteen at most. Going by the steadiness of his singing, Nie Huaisang would have thought him to be older.

"Ordinary visitors maybe not," he admitted. "But I'm a friend of Lan zongzhu, and I have certain rights."

"You don't look like someone Lan zongzhu would be friends with," the boy retorted. "Aren't you dressed too fancy for the Cloud Recesses?"

Nie Huaisang smiled in spite of himself, delighted by this odd little Lan he'd stumbled upon. Gusu boys never usually managed that sort of open insolence, it was beaten out of them by the time they were ten.

"I really am Lan zongzhu's friend," he insisted, showing off his jade token to prove it. That particular type was only given to high ranking disciples normally, though Lan Xichen had also given them to his closest, most trusted friends.

"Oh, maybe you really are," the boy conceded. "Who are you? I thought only Jin zongzhu had one like that. Or are you… Ah, what's the other one…"

"I'm Nie Huaisang," came the answer, a little drier than it needed to be. But Nie Huaisang's rare good humour had fallen apart at the reminder that Jin Guangyao existed in the world.

"Nie zongzhu!" the boy gasped, bowing politely to him. "I'm sorry. I should have guessed by your colours."

"It's fine. And you are?"

"I'm Lan Jingyi, Nie zongzhu. I'm actually related to Lan zongzhu. We're cousins. Kind of."

The boy's name was unfamiliar, but that was hardly a surprise. Nie Huaisang has always struggled to remember names, unless the person was of direct interest to him.

"Nie zongzhu, are you going to denounce me for singing?" Lan Jingyi asked, looking up at him with worry. "I know I shouldn't have. If master Lan hears about it, he's going to scold me for making a racket again."

"Are those his words?"

Lan Jingyi shrugged with a carelessness that made Nie Huaisang nearly smile again. Then, remembering that he was talking to a person of some importance, Lan Jingyi quickly nodded and bowed again.

"Master Lan is trying to teach me to stop disrupting the peace," he explained. "I am very grateful for his efforts and I am trying to learn from him."

"If he called your singing a racket he's unfair," Nie Huaisang retorted. "You have a very lovely voice. Where did you learn to sing like that? You must have been trained to be this good?"

The instant he heard the praise, Lan Jingyi's face illuminated, as if he'd never received such a high compliment.

"Nie zongzhu is too kind!" he exclaimed. "I haven't been trained, except if you count singing with my father when I was little. I just enjoy it a lot, even if I know I shouldn't."

"Ah, I know the feeling," Nie Huaisang huffed with a half smile. "I'm glad you persevered. You really are quite good. In fact, I wouldn't mind another song, if that's agreeable to you. I won't tell master Lan and Lan zongzhu, I promise."

"Really?"

"Really."

Lan Jingyi's smile at being encouraged could have outshone the sun. He didn't hesitate and started another song right away.

He really had a good voice, especially if he had never received training for it. So good in fact that Nie Huaisang allowed himself to be carried away by the music without paying attention to the lyrics. They seemed to be mostly nonsense anyway, just random things set to the tune of a Lan melody which Nie Huaisang, belatedly, recognised as Cleansing

At any other time, it would have horrified him to hear again the music used to murder his brother. But set to silly lyrics, in the voice of this enthusiastic child, Nie Huaisang found that he didn't mind. If anything, Lan Jingyi made the melody feel peaceful again.

It had been a long, long while since Nie Huaisang had felt so calm.

That fragile peace was promptly broken by approaching footsteps.

"Lan Jingyi, do you know what rules you have just broken?" a stern voice asked in a tired tone, bringing the song to a sudden end.

Even before turning, Nie Huaisang recognised Lan Qiren and shivered. Even though he was no longer his student, some part of him still feared the strict teacher who used to terrify him. At least, Lan Qiren wasn't alone. When Nie Huaisang turned to bow in respect, he saw Lan Xichen at his uncle's side, which meant he wouldn't have to go through the torture of small talk with Lan Qiren.

"Master Lan, Lan zongzhu, please do not scold that disciple of yours," Nie Huaisang asked. "I am the one who requested to hear him sing, and of course he could hardly have denied me this."

"And how did you know that he sings in the first place?" Lan Qiren retorted, unimpressed.

Unsure how to answer without causing more problems for Lan Jingyi, Nie Huaisang elected to stay silent. He opened his fan to hide and turned his attention to Lan Xichen, as if he hadn't heard the question at all.

"Er-ge, how good to see you, it's been so long. Are you free now? Could we go have tea? I'm just freezing, I can't feel my feet at all and I'm worried about frostbite!"

Lan Xichen smiled indulgently, and glanced at his uncle.

"I'll let you deal with Jingyi, uncle, and entertain Nie zongzhu. Don't let him stay out too long. I fear it'll snow again tonight."

Lan Qiren looked unimpressed by that double plea for leniency, but nodded anyway. Only a little worried for Lan Jingyi, Nie Huaisang lost no time in following Lan Xichen away from that courtyard and toward the Hanshi.

"Will he be punished for this?" Nie Huaisang asked as they walked, a little closer to each other than necessary.

"Who?"

"That boy, Lan Jingyi. I really did ask him, you know, and I promised him he wouldn't get in trouble."

Lan Xichen chuckled softly.

"Lan Jingyi is always in trouble," he said. "We don't really know what to do with him. He has very good cultivation, uncle says he's one of the most skilled swordsmen he's ever seen, but his attitude is… a bit much to handle."

Nie Huaisang grimaced. He had found it endearing that Lan Jingyi had been nearly insolent, that he didn't whisper like most Lan disciples seemed to do, but he could imagine others would be less amused.

"It would be less of a problem if his musical cultivation were better," Lan Xichen sighed. "But he struggles with that as well. It's very odd. He has such a good ear for music, he's always humming something if left alone, but put him before a guqin and he's a disaster. He tries to please us, but it's so obvious he doesn't care for it, and so he makes no progress."

"Sounds familiar," Nie Huaisang grumbled, thinking again how radiant Lan Jingyi had been when praised, even by a complete stranger. He thought, also, of the way he'd found Cleansing soothing again, for the first time in years, and wondered. "Is it possible to cultivate through singing?"

Lan Xichen shot him a surprised look at the question, and did not answer right away. They had reached the Hanshi at last, and Lan Xichen remained silent as he opened the door, letting his guest in.

"I don't think it has ever been done," he finally answered as he closed the door behind them. "It certainly wouldn't be traditional."

"Oh, tradition," Nie Huaisang huffed, bending down to take off his boots as quickly as his cold fingers allowed. "Sometimes tradition isn't so great."

Kneeling next to him, Lan Xichen hummed noncommittally before helping Nie Huaisang remove his shoes, clearly less affected by the biting cold. Nie Huaisang couldn't decide if he was grateful or annoyed that he needed the help. He chose to ignore both feelings and leaned forward, silently begging for a kiss that was easily granted to him.

Before Nie Huaisang could get a second kiss, Lan Xichen rose to his feet and went to boil water for some tea. Nie Huaisang went to sit at the table and watched the other man work, their conversation already half forgotten for his part.

Lan Xichen, however, wasn't quite done yet.

"There might be something to your idea of voice cultivation," he said a few minutes later, while pouring the tea. Nie Huaisang blinked a few times, hurriedly trying to recall what he'd said. He was so often ignored these days, it always startled him how Lan Xichen truly paid attention to his chatter. "It would not be recommended for ordinary people, but Lan Jingyi does have a more powerful voice than most. The main reason uncle has to be so tough on him about being quiet is that Lan Jingyi has provoked headaches in others more than once. But if that could be channelled properly… and singing is music as well, isn't it? The voice is just an instrument of another sort. It could be worth trying. I'll tell uncle about it. He has a soft spot for Jingyi, I'm sure he'd be happy to find a way to help him improve."

Lan Xichen sounded so serious and earnest about it that Nie Huaisang found himself smiling. Because the world was cold and his own mind so dark, Nie Huaisang forgot sometimes how warm and kind Lan Xichen could be. At times he was annoyed by it, jealous that anyone might still carry so much gentleness. But that day, like most times he was reminded of his lover's nature, Nie Huaisang felt relieved that Lan Xichen remained untouched by darkness, and became each time more convinced that he'd been right in his choice to leave Lan Xichen unburdened by the truth.

"I'm sure Lan Jingyi will be very grateful that you are willing to help him find what works for him," Nie Huaisang said, sipping on his tea, shivering pleasantly at the heat of it.

"Not all disciples can follow the main road," Lan Xichen retorted, brushing his fingers against Nie Huaisang's cheek. "Those other paths are worth exploring as well. They can lead to great treasure, I've found."

Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes, his face suddenly very hot.

He blamed the tea for that.

[psychemeanscure]

PART 4 { I think I forgot to tell this, but I guess I just have to mention it now. This story is purely fictional. Places, names, things may or may not be related with each other. Nor to do harm. Just be reminded that this is all fiction. In case a sensitive issue might arise, since I only rely to what google give me as well. Hehe. Anyway, happy reading :)}

“Boss! I got the de--- Boss?”

He’s too preoccupied by his thoughts that even the voice of his people can’t even get through him, for he is still moved from the yesterday’s happenings. “Boss.” Another hoping call for him, and still no response indeed.

-

“Okay! Can we talk about us, now?”  

His first word the moment he ended the settled deal by call with the Spanish gambler as he steps in the driver’s seat facing her who’s already waiting from the passenger seat. “Shut up. I’m still not in the mood for you, Jang Taeyoung.” Thus he starts the engine as they continue to bicker throughout the ride.

“Come on. Is this still about the prompt proposal? I told you, even I has no clue about it as I thought we’re going to deal with the gun transactions only.”

“Exactly. And it’s your fault.” crossing her arms again as she looks by the window instead. “Tss. You accusing bulldozer. I should have sided the old man instead. I could have enjoyed his humor better than you do.” And that made her turn her head to him. “Well, just make sure to inform me if you plan to betray me soon.”

“Jeez. You really can’t distinguish a joke, are you? What do you think of me? Low-cost? Tss. Besides, there’s no way I’m going to clasp a hand with that geezer, either. I hate him even.” Curious from what she heard. She starts to ask him the usual. “Oh, wow. That’s new. What makes you decide that easily, though?”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. As expected, you’re too focus of revenge that you’re unable to see his suspicious look on you.” And it made her forehead crease. “What?” received a shrugging shoulder from him then. “He keeps watching you the whole time whenever your eyes are not on him. Like he had something to remember by you. And it’s too fishy. Too fishy something. I hate it.”  By gripping the steering wheel, he accelerated their phase from the broad road of Seoul while she had to deal with his daydreaming assumptions. “Can you stop your dreaming haughtiness like as if we were even a thing? Tú apesta.”

There she is finally with her curses as she had to roll her eyes up because of him. Yet in the other side, he’s just simply excited to play his cleverness on her again. “Ooh… So you are open considering us as a thing, huh? That hasn’t slip in my mind, though. Shall I say my pleasure, then?” only to receive a glare coming from her.

~

“Send me the details tomorrow. I’ll get back to you once I finish all my meetings.”

Her firm business remark after they went out of the garage, snatching back her car key from him. Went straight to the entrance door to enter her passcode but frowned after realizing that he still around, nor even calling his assistant to fetch him. “What? You’re not leaving? Don’t tell me you’ll somehow get me obliged to call assistance for you?”  yet, he was just there just few meters from her standing, both hands in his pockets while giving her a meaningful stare as if contemplating his words to say to her. 

“Nah. I’m just going to do this.” And he did it, indeed. Occupying the remaining distance between them, swiftly cupping her cheeks by his hands as he deeply claims her lips with wholesomeness. Kissed her under the night sky of darkness and only moon as their witness. 

She was left off-guard that even the sudden tiptoe of her feet is oblivious on her sane, and when she was about to protest, he already pulled away. “You’re too stubborn to talk about your indebtedness from me a while ago. So why not a surprise paycheck will do.”

“Good night, my sweet volatile.”

His last whisper on her ear before guiding the still struck her inside her premise. “Joder esta! Get yourself together, Sung Eunyoung.” She ends up scolding herself indeed after closing the door of her apartment as she was still on her doorstep gripping the doorknob with so much vigor. Heart’s racing with bafflement. She doesn’t want to assume any from him for she knows what kind of man he is, but… “But that look. Mierda!”

She blurts it out indeed. That certain look he never gave to anyone, not until today. Not until with her.  

-

“Boss!”

With one last hope from his assistant, he finally snaps back to reality. Turning his head to face the owner of the voice. “U-uh?” his absentminded out of sane answer still, only to be handled a catalog envelope to his hand. “The details you requested Boss.”  As he only checks what’s inside and thank him. “You may go, Jae.” His final bid indeed but seems to confuse the latter. “Uh. Boss? Should I send it also to Ms.--- “

“No, it’s okay. I can handle.”

“Yes, Boss.”

Thus the assistant went out just as he wanted. While he was left smirking, swirling on his swivel chair with a silly thought in mind. A silly move he always enjoys.

~

The sound of a thrown golf ball elopes the entire walls of her personal sports room for she just finished a previous meeting calls only to receive another incoming. Thus she had pause for a moment and accept it from her smartwatch again.

“Yes, Director.”

“Yes, the honor is mine. I hope the girls on standby made your day, though.”

“I’m glad to hear that. In fact, the prospectus you sent is quite my interest.”

“Oh no. You don’t have---“

Her conversion cut off by a sudden barging from a person she already knew. She almost cusses if only she’s not fast to realize that she’s still conversing to someone over a call, that even the caller had to ask if there’s something wrong. She composes immediately somehow, except that her glaring eyes were darted to the unwelcome visitor though.

“Anyway Director, thank you for trusting your business on us.”

“My pleasure. Expect the response of my secretary by Friday.”

“Yes, please.”

With one last bid of goodbye and a put off of her bluetooth earbud, she indeed fuming mad imposing the great Jang Taeyong who’s just comfortably sitting on the couch. “Didn’t I tell you I get back to you once I finish my meetings? La mierda. You almost ruined everything!”

“But I did not.”

Only to receive a quirky statement from him anyway, that she had no choice either but to entertain, occupying the opposite seat from him. “What now?” thus he showed her the catalog envelope his assistant gave a while ago, while she starts to check the moment she received it only to groan after learning what’s inside. “You really don’t listen, are you? I told you to just send me the details. Email, Jang Taeyoung. I don’t have to see your face just for this.”

“Ah. Uhuh… So that’s what you mean by that? You should have been more specific. Shall I say sorry?”

His quirky answers continue even he always do understand her sentences. And just by looking her unconvinced gaze, he knew she knows as well as he does. “Forget it. You’re here anyway. And since you’re here, better elaborate this asustando papel for me instead. That’s the least you can do.”

Her mocking words indeed by which only made him a cringing brows. “You, woman. You’re always pulling me down. Tss. Fine.” As much as she wants to laugh by his sudden yield, she chose to suppress it anyway. Thus, he started after some fixing with his suit.

“Zilo Alcaziar, the troublemaker son of Veeros Alcaziar. An elite from underground Castellón, Spain. If not with his father’s power he could have rot in jail because of its involvement in many drug activities such as cocaine, cannabis, MDMA and his most favorite…” he intended to halt his words to see her expectant reaction. “What?” her impatience indeed.

“Heroin.”

“Esta mierda! And he’s only 20?! Don’t you dare tell me that it’s even included to the said transaction?”

“Uhuh. Sadly, Yes. No doubt his father is trying to be a good Samaritan for his son.” And so he swears, if only curses can kill. He’s probably the first on the list for he is currently catching every kind of curses from her mouth right now while she takes a deep breath preparing for another information that may stress her somehow. “Okay. Fine. What more should I have to suffer to hear?”  

He can’t help to sneak a laugh by her witty-like remark that he follows anyway and proceeds to another information for her. The rest of their conversation then just became a constant throw-catch disputes of details or rather been said, a matter of question and answer bickering between a lion towards his lioness.

“When was that again?”

“Next month is his arrival. Together with the second cargo entailed of powders obviously as what I have told you. The old man said it will be the same process with the guns next week, so by dawn I and my boys must be on the port on time.”

With the look of her brushing her face. He knows she’s starting to get lost from her thoughts, frustrated. “Dios Mio. A father who’s even letting his son involved. Urgh. Do you really think I can absorb all of this, Jang Taeyoung?”

“Then you better not. You don’t need to get involved with the transactions though and just leave it to me. It’s too dangerous. You do trust me, right?” scoffing from what she heard, she had no choice anyway. “Are you sure?” only to be responded by his groan. “You only reciprocated my question, Sung Eunyoung. I said, do you trust me?” seeking for affirmation from her, she knew his being serious right then that only thing she could do is sigh.

“I should, is maybe my right response to that, Jang Taeyoung. Don’t force me.”

Giving her a stern look doesn’t work somehow, so he gives in anyway. “Fine. Even that isn’t the answer I’m expecting.”  

“Whatever. Can we just end this for today? I had enough headache already.”

As she stands up, picking its golf club from a stand bag, after deciding for another round of play. “You too, should go. I had enough of you as well.” But the latter didn’t even get a hitch to move from his seat and were just watching her from behind. “It’s so unfair. You have your own sports room while I don’t.” his set of grumpiness indeed. “Then get one. You have all money to do that. Why bother patronizing mine. As if you’re into sports. Your sports room will be useless anyway.”   

“Tss. Bulldozer. Who says I don’t? And I love bowling!”

With a hit from the golf club, she finally heard the shut of the door, left by a grumpy still Jang Taeyoung. For she only gives in a deep sigh, still remembering yesterday. She really has to be careful around him. Does not like to admit, but…

“He’s the death of you, Sung Eunyoung.”    

Reminding herself certainly.

[imagining-supernatural]

The First Article

Part 11 of Seventy Percent

Series Summary: When you left on your trip to Vegas, you’d planned on letting loose for one last weekend before heading back to reality and getting your affairs in order so your best friend wouldn’t be left cleaning up your mess when your cancer finally ended your life. What you hadn’t counted on was waking up married to a celebrity who has a knight-in-shining-armor complex, connections with an oncologist, and amazing insurance…

Chapter Summary: You wake up after the big fight with Sebastian

Word Count: 1941

When you woke up, the first thing you noticed was a new glass of water, your morning pills, and a banana on the bedside table.

You’d been so caught up in your fight that you hadn’t realized you’d forgotten to take your medicine. Sebastian, apparently, had noticed. And if he laid them out for you, it would seem he wanted you to continue your treatment.

Because he was a decent person. Because it was his fault you were here. Because he pitied you. As soon as people found out you had cancer, they immediately pitied you.

But that’s all it was.

Pity.

As soon as the treatment failed, or succeeded and you were recovered from surgery, he was sure to drop the divorce papers in your lap, give you a one way plane ticket to Salt Lake City, and tell you he hopes you have a good life.

It’s what any sane person would do.

It’s more than you deserved, to be honest. After everything you’d done in your life…

As you stared at the pills, you debated with yourself.

On one hand, you promised to fight. You promised to see this to the end.

But on the other hand… you knew your track record in life. If you were being honest with yourself, you knew how this would end. And it wasn’t going to end with surgery. It wasn’t going to end with you being cancer free. It wouldn’t even end in remission.

So who were you fucking kidding?

Carefully, you swung your legs out of the bed, ignored the pills, and quietly exited the room. Your bladder was insistent, and, much as you wanted to, you couldn’t hide out in the guest room all day.

As you washed your hands, you stared at yourself in the mirror.

You look like hell, he’d said. And he was right. You lost so much weight that your cheeks were sunken. Sure, cheekbones were sexy, but not like this.

You looked like death. That’s what he should have said. It would have been more accurate. More predictive.

Walking out of the bathroom, you wondered if you should start packing up your shit. Maybe when you told the nurses that you would see them on Monday, that would be the last lie you’d ever tell. From now on, you could tell the truth. You wouldn’t be around long enough to see the fallout that blunt truth would have.

“Hey,” Sebastian greeted, startling you. He was sitting on the guest bed. “You take your medicine yet?”

“No,” you stated, beginning your new truth-telling life. Besides, he could very well see you hadn’t taken the pills, since they were untouched on the bedside table.

He swept the pills into his hand, grabbed the glass of water, and walked over to where you’d frozen in the doorway. “Take ‘em. I grabbed some takeout. It might need to be heated up a bit, but I thought it’d be easy on your stomach.”

“Seb—”

“And I’ll give you my lawyer’s number so he can help you draw up whatever papers you need to give you peace of mind that I can’t be responsible for your debt. That way you can focus on your treatment.” He shoved the glass of water in your right hand and dumped the pills in your left.

“Seb—”

“I’m not arguing with you, Y/N. Take your medicine.”

His eyes were unrelenting, so you huffed a deep sigh and downed the pills.

“Sorry for jumping on you this morning,” he said quietly.

“You don’t—”

“Shut up and let me apologize, Y/N. You were right. I didn’t really understand what I signed up for, but I don’t regret anything. I should have tried to talk to you before I yelled. I shouldn’t have made assumptions.”

“It’s okay,” you murmured.

“No, it’s not. I was wrong, Y/N. I just… When I saw all that, I got scared, okay? And I took it out on you. It wasn’t fair of me.”

What could you say to that? You nodded, hoping he’d accept that response.

Luckily, he did. You let him lead you out to the kitchen and sat on a stool while he set to work heating up the takeout.

“There’s something else we need to talk about,” he hedged.

“Okay,” you whispered.

You’d expected him to explain, but he didn’t say another word until your food was in front of you. Even then, he gave you an expectant look and waited until you took a bite. Once you swallowed, he was satisfied enough to pull out his phone and click around for a bit. “I’m surprised we’ve kept it a secret for so long, but word’s out. Someone saw us in Vegas and took a picture.”

He slid his phone across the counter to you. Right there on Entertainment Weekly’s website was a grainy picture of you, Sebastian, and Elvis in what was unmistakably a Vegas wedding.

“At least they didn’t get a picture of your face, so no one knows who you are.”

“Yet.”

“Yet,” he agreed.

Sebastian reached across the island and tucked your hair behind your ear before cupping your cheek with his hand. When he nudged your face up to look at him, he offered a small, genuine smile. “I’ll get you through this, okay? I’ll take care of the media and whatever shit comes our way from that. You just focus on the treatment.”

All week long, the only time anyone else touched you was when the nurses hooked you up to the machines. So, to feel Sebastian’s hand on your cheek was jarring in a way. It felt good.

You covered his hand with yours and gave him a weak smile.

With a decisive nod, he withdrew his hand and pushed your food closer towards you. “Good. Now eat.”

Your first mistake was telling Sebastian you felt better than you had all week.

It was a mistake because he had interpreted that as I’m definitely feeling up to leaving the apartment on a Saturday night.

And that was how you found yourself sitting in a booth at his favorite diner. No one asked any questions when he asked to be seated at the booth in the back. It was the one that had the most privacy.

As your waitress, Selena took your orders and made small talk, you kept second guessing everything you’d ever said to her. With how often you and Sebastian came here, you’d spoken with the employees here quite a bit. Outside of the hospital staff and Sebastian, they were the people you interacted with the most.

What did they know about you? What had you told them? What could they tell the media, if asked? What details about you did they remember?

“Hey, Y/N.” Sebastian waved his hand in front of your face. “Where’d you go?”

From across the diner, Selena’s laugh drew your attention momentarily.

A quick look around assured you that no one could overhear you, but you still kept your voice low. “Selena has a two year old son who had a cold two weeks ago, which is why she missed work on Wednesday and Thursday. His dad is a slime bag who bolted as soon as Selena found out she was pregnant and she works over 60 hours a week just to give her son, Timothy, what he needs. Timothy likes to be called Tim and his favorite animal right now is the elephant.”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting you to say that. “Okay?”

“If I remember all of that about her, what does she remember about me? What could she tell someone else about me? Especially someone who knows how to dig into people’s pasts? I’ve talked to so many people here, and what if they remember something that helps someone figure out who I am—who I was. I know you said you’d take care of the media, but I can’t stop worrying. I’ve told you I have a shitty past and I really don’t want it to ruin your career because trust me, if the gossip in my hometown is anything to go by, people won’t understand what I did.”

Hell, people didn’t even know half of what you did.

Just as he opened his mouth to respond after a moment of considering your words, Selena came back with your food. Besides your orders, she placed two slices of pie on the table. “On the house. Gwen says you look like you need some more meat on your bones and if you don’t want the pie, tough shit.”

Sebastian laughed, and you forced a smile on your face as well. Gwen was the owner of the diner and she was a charming old lady. In the few weeks you’d been here, you realized quickly that she considered Seb like her own family and was very generous towards him. And, by extension, you.

“We wouldn’t dream of saying no to Gwen,” you said, trying not to sound as weak or anxious as you were.

“Good. I don’t want to see her come over and give y’all a piece of her mind along with that pie.” With a wink, Selena turned to take care of her only other table of the night.

When she was out of earshot, Sebastian motioned to your plate and you took a bite of your salad while rolling your eyes. You’d nearly forgotten about his insistence that you eat while he was gone.

“Marvel’s got a great PR team, Y/N. Whatever the media vultures dredge up, they’ll spin it in a good way. When I told you not to worry about the press, I meant it. And if you want to take preemptive action, we can let the PR team know what might come up and they can have a plan in place if people do dig that deep.”

As you fixed your baked potato and took a bite, you considered his words. It made sense. Didn’t mean you wouldn’t worry, though. “I’ll think about it.”

He was curious, you could tell. But you appreciated that he didn’t ask you to tell him what you were so scared of in your past. Maybe he would bring it up again when you were home, in private, but for right now, he changed the subject.

Dinner passed quickly, and when Selena came by to grab the payment, her face was more serious than you’d seen her before. “Thought I’d warn you there are some cameras out front. Brett just came back from his break and said the back way is clear if you wanna avoid them.”

Seb’s eyes darted to yours and you saw his brain turning over as he thought of the best course of action.

“I’ll run your card and be back. Let me know what you wanna do then and we’ll make it work for you.”

She left and Sebastian leaned forward. “What do you think?”

You scraped the last of the apple pie filling from the plate. While your first instinct was to consider every variable and come up with a course of action, you made the conscious effort to push down those thoughts. “You told me not to worry about the press. That’s your job, so I’m going to leave it up to you.”

In the end, you did end up sneaking out the back. Sebastian kept his arm around your shoulder as you walked through the back alley to where Sean was waiting with the car on a side street. As you got into the car, you noticed a camera flash on the other side of the street.

So they patched things up... but can this shaky relationship stand up against the media? And what is she so worried about the media finding in her past? 

Chapter 12: The Second Check-In