#I imagine those are the instincts that should kick in when you hear them squeak

[mouse-drawings]

Defense mechanisms

Vasya doesn't want to actually hurt the thief, but she doesn't like being stolen from.

Bug facts time!

Velvet ants try very hard to impress upon other animals that they are not something you want to deal with. They have brightly colored markings to warn all those who can see. If it's not enough, they also chirp or squeak their warnings. And they aren't all bark either! Their chitin is tough and their sting is very painful, which is why they are called "cow killers". They can't actually kill a cow, but you know to stay away from them when you hear that name.

Their chirping is cute to me, but that's because I was never bitten by them. I imagine other bugs and animals would find it quite terrifying.

This woman can yell! What else is she capable of?!

[newtabfics]

The Wrong Kind Of Love. Childe x Fem!Reader

Summary: After learning Childe's real name when helping Aether with Teucer, Y/N teases the harbinger any chance she can, absolutely using the fact that Teucer likes her to her advantage immunity-wise. She jokes and says she wants a night she'd never forget.

Triggers: Both of them are toxic af. No one but Paimon and Teucer is pure in this one. But also spicy content which is a lot of rough play and taunting.

Teucer’s arms snapped around Y/N’s waist, startling Childe from his hiding spot. He watched her stumble before smiling and hugging him back. He then caught the mischievous grin on her face before she squeezed him hard and lifted him, twirling as the boy squealed with joy in her arms.

“Quit!” Teucer laughed.

Aether chuckled as Paimon beamed. Y/N set him down and ruffled his hair. “Be careful on your way back. Make sure to have awesome stories for when we visit.”

“You better have stories too, Y/N! I wanna hear about all your adventures. Be careful on the way to Inazuma. Bye-bye!” With that, the boy ran out.

“Aw. Someone’s maternal instinct is kicking in,” A voice taunted as he came from behind them.

Y/N glanced over at him with a smile. “Well, that depends, gonna fulfill that instinct with me?”

Aether choked and punched her shoulder. “Not in front of Paimon.”

“Aether, I know where babies come from. I am a travel expert,” She pointed out.

Childe smirked as he tilted his head. “What’s in it for me?”

“Nothing. Just good fun…Ajax,” She cooed, making him glare. “Nope. You totally saw how much your little brother adores me. Sooo…you can’t kill me! You can’t kill me!” She chanted childishly, making Aether shake his head in shame.

Childe pursed his lips, nose crinkling in disgust. Pest, he could only think as he smirked. “Well, I can’t help but wonder. This wild cat is quite cute when she’s all maternal.”

“Maybe you should help with that then,” She repeated, making his body tense. He could only imagine the face she’d make under him which caused him to look away. This earned him a snicker from her as she approached. He had to hold his breath, resisting taking in her sweet scent as she whispered, “Don’t be too childish, Ajax.”

He glared at her, ignoring Paimon’s squealing laugh. “His ugly face is kinda funny. You really don’t like her, do you, Ajax?”

Childe simply stared at her as Aether sighed. “Quit. That’s between those two. Only Y/N gets to call him that and live.”

Paimon squeaked and hid behind Aether before gasping and shaking him. “Like how a husband can call his wife darling!?”

The next day couldn’t have come sooner. Childe found himself in the market, looking at items he needed to buy to send home to his brother. When the singsong, “Hello, Ajax,” rumbled into his ear, he sighed and glared at her.

“Aw, not even a little spooked?” Y/N huffed, pouting up at him.

He smirked. “You’re a lot less sneaky than you think. I saw you see the Traveler and Paimon off to come to me,” He chuckled, nodding in the direction of the disappearing Traveler.

“Fair. Shopping for Teucer?”

“I am.”

“Mind if I join? I’d like to send something to him too and well…you know his address.”

Childe blinked and nodded. “Alright then. Is there anything particular?”

“I’ve already got it picked out actually,” She chuckled. “I ended up showing him how to do some origami folding and he really got into it. If there’s a kit I can buy him so he can practice, I’d like to send it to him.”

“You…taught him origami?’ he asked curiously.

“Yeah. It was while you and Aether were talking about some stuff and asked us to stay behind at the campsite. Had to keep him entertained. Besides, it was fun! I used to do it to keep my hands fiddling as a kid. Thought he’d enjoy it. Turns out he did. You’ll love this,” She chuckled as she dug into her bag.

He watched her pull out a familiar journal she used for documenting her travels throughout Teyvat. From it, she pulled a small folded frog. He blinked at it. She smiled and set it on the nearby table, using her finger to make it hop once.

“Well, I’ll say, the wildcat has some dexterity.”

“Teucer has one with him too. This is the one he made for me after he practiced a ton.” she put it back in her journal, looking at it fondly before closing it. “He seemed really into it so maybe he’d enjoy it back home.”

Childe hummed and nodded. “Fine then. Let’s search for your gift.”

“Oh, Ajax, thank you,” she whispered, keeping her voice low.

This only infuriated him, making him glare at her. “Quit. I can’t let that name get out.”

“Oh, you’ve seen what I can do when I’m actually being sneaky. Don’t be so mean. Besides, convince me not to and I might consider it.”

He glared at her before smirking and gripping her chin. “I think everything comes at a price. I’m sure even I could convince you.”

‘You know you can’t buy me though,” She chuckled, cheeks flushing from the contact.

“Which is why I’ll be taking you out to the town. Come on, wildcat. Let’s have some fun.”

Y/N blinked as the harbinger led her into Liyue Harbor before following him eagerly. She admitted to Aether long ago about her feelings towards the man that was better put a frenemy of theirs.

“I know it’s nothing like true love or something so romantic. I do have feelings for him and I know I’ll get over him…once he’s uh…out of my system.”

“Uh-huh. More like in your system.”

“You’re gross, shuddup!”

The Harbinger wrapping his arm around her shoulders made her blink. Part of her was alert to his closeness, keeping an eye on his body language to determine if there was any deceit in it. The other part of her wanted to yank him down the alleyway and kiss him and reach her hand along his stomach and–

“Are you even here?” Childe teased, pulling her close to him. “I figured you’d be bouncing with joy. Finally, someone’s taken an interest in the wildcat.”

Y/N smirked up at him. “Aw. You like me then?”

“Like a pest,” He snickered. She laughed and elbowed him gently, making him genuinely smile. “You haven’t been able to explore Liyue Harbor much, right?”

“No. Aether and I met at a festival in Mondstat. When I bemoaned about wanting to travel, he just said to join him.”

Childe blinked at that. “Wait, really?” He heard from informants that Aether’s new friend seemed to be an experienced traveler.

“Yeah. I mean, I was a part of the Adventurer’s Guild but I just wanted to do more. I was mostly stationed in the city because I mean…look at me, Childe,” She sighed, gesturing to herself. “Most people don’t take me too seriously. Mostly the height.”

“I can see it,” He amended. “I’m not innocent in that judgment either though.”

“And I don’t even fault you for it,” She giggled. “Still, I’ve been enjoying it. Though, as soon as we started coming into the city, we met a handsome little Schneznyan!”

Childe laughed at that, nodding. “Apologies for him. I’m glad he did meet with you all though. He was in capable hands. You likely remind him of our sister.”

“He said as much.” She smiled as they walked through Liyue Harbor, taking in the sight. “So, what will you show me then, Childe?” She caught Zhongli’s eye and waved. The man studied the harbinger for a moment before nodding and waving back.

Childe hummed, knowing the man was likely keeping an eye on them for her safety. Didn’t change that it irritated him though.

“C’mon. Let’s get a private place so we can enjoy our day,” He hummed, guiding her away. 

She blinked but smiled as she leaned into him as they walked. 

He tensed as he glanced down at her. He had to admit, holding her close wasn’t all bad, even if she was a pest.

As the sun set and the sky grew dark, Y/N found herself laughing with Childe as they made their way to the Wangshu Inn. He was walking her up to her room, helping her onto the elevator.

As the wooden box climbed up, Y/N smiled. “Thank you for this, Ajax.”

Childe scoffed and glared at her. “Would you quit saying my name already?”

“I figured you’d like it, Ajax,” she giggled, smirking up at him.

“Quit.”

“Make me.”

With a snarl, he lurched forward. Her hands went up her hand gripping her blade quickly before it froze as his lips found herself. She willed the sword away and wrapped her arms around his neck as he pressed her against the wall of the elevator.

As it came to a stop at the top floor, he broke the kiss and lifted her, carrying her to her room. She wanted to make a snarky comment about him stalking her but it died in her throat when she was pinned against the wall, the harbinger’s body pressed hard against hers. His eyes bore into her hungrily before his mouth was on her neck, biting and kissing aggressively.

“I’ll make you regret this,” He growled, grinding against her roughly.

“Make sure I never forget it,” She moaned, tugging his hair as she ground down against him.

He groaned as he pulled her from the door, finding his way to the bed and laying her down. The man was quick to strip her down, eying her body carefully. 

His fingertips found the scars over her torso, likely from fights with monsters much larger than her. After seeing her fighting style as her vision gleamed on the floor, he knew she dove headfirst again and again, earning her victories and those marks as proof they’d happened.

“Beautiful,” he hummed happily before bending and licking every scar his tongue could find before making his way between her legs. “You won’t ever forget this. I’ll have you sobbing my name,” He swore before shoving her knees against her chest and burying his face against her.

She gasped and moaned loudly, gripping his hair and tugging as his tongue lavished over her. Y/N cried out, slipping out, “Aj–” before biting her lip.

Childe snarled at that. “What? You can whisper my name but you can’t scream it?” he taunted as he threw his glove off his hand before sliding two fingers into her.

“Fuck!” She whined before meeting his eye as his fingers curled deviously. “Believe it or not, I r-respect your wishes to not be t-tracked.”

Childe cooed as he kissed her clit, rolling his tongue carefully over it before pulling away. “Such a sweet little wildcat. You might make me breed you.”

At her twitch, he smirked and stood, pulling his fingers out. Her whine only fueled him as he sucked his fingers into his mouth, cleaning them carefully before unbuckling his pants. Barely even removing them, he revealed himself to her, taking pride in the way she gulped nervously despite her hunger.

“Like it? That big enough for you?” He taunted. Her movement was so fast, he nearly kicked her, but how could he when this woman was suddenly kneeling before him, taking a long lick up his length? “Fuck,” He grunted.

“Gods you taste amazing,” she whispered, nuzzling against his thigh as she stroked him slowly. “Do I really affect you this much?” She asked.

Childe couldn’t answer as he was left moaning when her mouth sucked his length in. She was swallowing him down, bobbing her head along him eagerly as she reached between her legs to touch herself.

He almost couldn’t believe it as she looked up at him, almost taunting him for letting her gain the upper hand against him. All the fantasies he’d had of her were nothing compared to the way she pressed her nose against his pelvis, swallowing thickly as her eyes watered.

“What’s wrong? Is it–fuck–too big for your little mouth?” He grunted as he gripped her hair. He smirked before thrusting into her mouth, watching her cheeks flush.

Y/N let her jaw slacken as he began to thrust into her throat, keeping a tight hold on her hair to prevent her escape. Like she would. Her hand cupped her breast, twisting gently at her nipple as her fingers pumped into her. She looked up at him excitedly as she dripped on the floor.

Childe swore as he took in the sight of her, biting his lip and moaning loudly before forcing her to deep-throat him. After she swallowed the spit in her mouth, squeezing him, he slowly pulled out and pulled her up. Her whimper at the strain on her hair made him smirk as he gripped her face.

“Beg,” He commanded, lightly dragging his soaked tip against her thigh almost tauntingly.

“Childe, please.”

“Not that name,” He snarled, tugging her hair and forcing her face into the bed. 

She squirmed and grunted into the sheets as his hand slapped against her rear. Another strike had her hissing in pleasure and pain. It didn’t stop her from wiggling her lower half at him as if trying to hypnotize him with her naked form.

“Wanna try that again?” He asked as he let her adjust, keeping her hand against her shoulder to keep her down.

“Please, Aja–AX!” She squealed as he plunged into her in one fell swoop. 

Her moans sent a fire in him as he kept her in place, pumping into her as deep as he could. He couldn’t help but fall into the intoxicating feeling of her climaxing at his length as he held her down.

“That’s a good little wildcat,” he moaned. “Taking me so beautifully. Fuck, you’re such a pest.”

She couldn’t retaliate as she would’ve usually. Her eyes rolled back as she drooled on the sheets. Y/N could only moan as his fingers found her nub again as he moved over her. His hand found her neck and pressed against the sides of her neck.

“You’re soaking my pants?” He taunted, teeth finding her ear. “Such a naughty kitty. Gonna have to punish you.” He moaned as she tightened around him. “Masochist.”

“A-Ajax,” she rasped, shaking as she wavered closer to the edge as her vision blurred from the tears in her eyes.

“Come,” he commanded as he released her throat. She let out a shout as she did, slicking him entirely. Childe groaned as he lost himself in the euphoria, sliding his hand from her throat to her supple breast as he milked her. “Good kitty.”

Y/N mewled under him as he pressed against her, practically rutting into her as his hand slid from between her legs to her hip. He pulled her up against her, finding a new angle. “Fu-uck,” She whined.

Childe smirked as she began to whimper and thrust deeper into her. Her mewl and chanting of his name, begging for him to move again. He let her twitch under him as her feet found some stability at last and began to rock back against him.

“Look at you. So desperate for me.” he lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him. He shuddered at the debauched expression she held, not breaking her sight as his fingers slid into her mouth. “That’s a good little wildcat…Yeah. I think I will.” He thrust hard, making her yelp happily. “I think I will try to breed you. After all, it’s what you wanted right? Wanted me to fulfill that maternal instinct? Admit it. You’ve wanted my offspring since the moment you saw me.”

“Fughk, yesh,” She moaned around his fingers. “Puleash brreb me.”

He snapped and began to thrust harder into her, holding her tongue between his fingers as he found a brutal pace. He could barely hear her moaning his name as the blood rushed in his ears.

With a grunt as his teeth dug into her neck, he buried load after load into her. His body shuddered violently, only barely registering her whimper as copper prickled against his tongue. He pulled his mouth away, kissing it gently.

Morning came almost in a heartbeat as he blinked blearily at the sun peeking through the window. He looked around to find no sign of Y/N, not even her travel bag. Recalling the mention of Inazuma, he leaped to his feet and dressed.

Hurrying to the strange waypoint, he fixated on Liyue Harbor and hurried through the crowds. There he saw Aether and Paimon boarding the Crux with Y/N in tow.

“What? Not even a goodbye?” He chuckled, eying her.

“I figured you wouldn’t want to be disturbed,” She said nonchalantly, making him blink. “Besides, you looked so cute with how soundly you slept.”

Aether groaned and rolled his eyes. “Hurry up. Beidou is getting everyone ready.”

“I won’t be long,” she promised as the other two went up. “I know I’ll see you again.”

“Couldn’t get enough?” he teased.

“Nah. I’m good now,” she laughed, making him gape. “I mean, I knew it wasn’t romance or anything. It was good fun. Besides, I don’t play with used toys.”

Childe gulped as Beidou called for her to get on the boat. With a wave, she boarded the ship. He could only watch as she sailed away to the storm surrounding Inazuma, his heart pounding vehemently.

“Fuck, she’s perfect,” He sighed happily.

[smarchit]

Look Around, Look Around pt 3

Summary: You escaped an abusive marriage, pregnant with your husband’s child. He sends a bounty hunter after you to bring you back. Everything changes. Din Djarin/pregnant!reader, no use of y/n

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: Pregnancy/related topics, implied/referenced rape, mentions of abuse

Notes: yaaaaaaall better get ready bc the story really starts to kick in during this chapter - stay tuned!

So you'd been travelling with the Mandalorian for a little over a month now. A month of helping him as best you could around the Razor Crest, which usually meant watching the baby while he was out looking for work.

He'd kept it to touring mostly well-populated planets for now, and ones usually far less dangerous than he was used to working on. He didn't want to put you in any unnecessary danger than what came with one in his field of expertise, so it was mostly touristy things on larger planets.

You had fun at first, but those weren't the type of places his work usually stuck around on. So you had to keep moving, keep hopping from skughole to skughole in pursuit of work.

Presently, you were seated on a crate outside of the Crest while he negotiated a docking fee from the Twi'lek woman who owned the hangar and adjacent inn. You rubbed a soothing hand over your stomach while the unborn baby inside you did somersaults. It's okay, little one. I'm right here.

"Need a room for your wife?" the woman asked, slightly louder so you could hear her. She raised a brow at the Mandalorian, who slightly turned to face you.

"She's not my wife - and no," he corrected sharply. "We don't. Just need the hangar spot for a day or so."

You sighed and looked down at the bounty hunter's little one that was currently trying to chase down a cricket nearly as large as he was. He'd tire himself out, which would be good for you later on.

It had been getting a little more difficult for you to sleep at night, not due to anxiety, but due to the creeping pressure on your back and hips.

The Mandalorian, stoic and chivalrous as he was, had offered you his bed to sleep in. He'd found some extra bedding in a shop on Tatooine and bought it all for you so you weren't suffering anymore than you had to. You were nesting. The child constantly was snuggling in the bed with you, and would make his way into your room while the Mandalorian slept, much to his panic. He'd wake in the morning and frantically search for him at first, but now he knew right where to find you.

"Ready?" the Mandalorian asked, making his way back over to you. He had a bag slung over his shoulder and the keys to a speeder in his hand.

Dare you say it, it looked very dad-like, and you actually found a smile creeping across your face at his casual pose.

"Where's this one hiding?" you asked as he shut up the door to the Crest. You scooped up the child, something that was getting increasingly difficult with each day, and stood with him in your arms.

"About a four hour ride that way," Mando said, gesturing with his whole hand pointing east.

You groaned internally. "Four hours!"

"You can stay here if you want," he said with a shrug.

You glanced around the old hangar and scowled. It was completely walled in, and you could see none of the planet from here.

"I'm coming," you said firmly.

He nodded once. "Alright then. Let's go."

***

It took almost five hours to get to your destination, due in part to the rough terrain and also to the fact that your baby thought it would be a wonderful idea to park itself on your bladder.

Coupled with the fact that you were carrying a squirming infant on top of that didn't make for an enjoyable trip.

You finally made it to a small inn in the middle of nowhere long after dark. The soft yellow light from the windows lit up the otherwise overwhelming darkness around you and the front door opened quickly as you neared the inn.

You pressed your back against his chest in fear. This was out in the middle of no where - you hadn't seen another settlement in hours. They shouldn't know anyone was coming...

"They're waiting here for us," Mando explained. "There's nothing to worry about."

You didn't relax even as the bike slowed to a gentle stop in front of the house. Mando jumped off first and held his arms out to you to jump into. The step down was higher than you realized and you stumbled off of it, landing against him heavily. He caught you with ease and set you back on your feet.

The child cooed in your arms when he realized how close his adopted father was. You gently shushed him and pulled his little swaddle over his head.

"Mando!" a booming voice called from the doorway of the in. You jumped a mile and yelled in fear. On instinct, you jumped behind the Mandalorian and turned your body to protect yourself and the two children from any harm.

"Dern," he said, holding up his hand in a greeting to the hulking figure in the doorframe of the inn. "Thank you for agreeing to house us. It's... Greatly appreciated."

"I'm always happy to help you after what you did for me all those years ago," the one called Dern said. He finally stepped into the light. A Devaronian man smiled down at you and you tried your best to not cower from him. He towered over the Mandalorian, who was already tall compared to you, and you had to crane your neck to see him.

"Don't mention it," Mando grumbled. "Really."

The Devaronian roared with laughter and slapped his hand on Mando's backplate hard enough to send him stumbling forward. He then approached you and you squeaked, holding the child tight enough to make him give a sharp cry.

"What's this?" he cooed, giving you a quick once over. "You have two little ones now, Mando? The green one Xi'an's or something?"

"Neither are mine," he said, sounding midly disgusted. You hoped that wasn't directed towards you. "I'm raising the one. The girl is a friend."

Friend. The word, you found, stung more than it should have. You were only that, you supposed. Patched him up a few times. He held your hair back when you got motion sickness on more than one occasion. You were the one he called for when he had a nightmare. He was the one you ran to when you first felt your baby kick - you had laughed when he called your baby aruett'ika when it stopped moving as soon as you managed to convince him to put his hands on your belly. Friend.

"Well, I'm always happy to give you shelter when you need it," he said, nodding in the Mandalorian's direction. "And as for her, I'm just happy to give shelter to anyone who can put up with you and not want to dump you in the Sarlacc pit."

You swore you heard Mando's eyes roll back into his head as he retrieved the bag from the rack on the speeder.

Dern held the door open for you and bowed when you entered. He waved one finger at the baby in your arms, who blew a tiny raspberry and made a mean face.

"Please, make yourselves comfortable," he said, making a sweeping gesture at his living space.

You looked around, noting all the potentially soft places for you to lay and you sighed wistfully before making your way to a pile of cushions. The child wiggled out of your arms and plopped itself on a black cushion and babbled up at Mando, who gave a heavy sigh.

"I made supper," Dern offered. "Wasn't sure what guests you brought with you, so I made a bit of everything."

"Something with bones for the little one," Mando said.

"Anything that isn't fish," you said quietly, leaning back in the cushions. "It's been turning my stomach."

"Aren't you glad you didn't stay on Sorgan," Mando teased as Dern turned to the pot on the stove.

"Could have been making a fortune as a basket weaver," you hummed, pressing a hand to your belly. The baby had been restless all day and still hadn't settled and you shifted uncomfortably as they chose that moment to kick particularly hard.

"You okay?" Mando asked. He sounded worried and he leaned forward in his chair to get closer to you.

"Fine, fine," you murmured, "She's just jumpy."

"You think you're having a girl?" he asked, resting his elbows on his thighs.  

"Omera thought I was having a girl, so it just sort of stuck," you replied with a shrug.

"Might be nice," he mused. He sounded distant, like he was thinking about something. 

You wanted to ask him why, but Dern returned with two bowls of hot soup and a cup of broth for the child.

Mando gave an awkward cough and stood, taking the large bowl in both hands.

"Ah, forgive me, my friend," Dern said. "I have forgotten. A guest room is set up for you - please, eat there."

He nodded and thanked his host before he disappeared down the narrow hallway.

In the few weeks you'd been travelling, you realized you never saw him eat, never saw him take food into a room to eat. He must eat long after you and the baby go to bed. The thought broke your heart. How often did he wait for you to decide you were sleepy and go to bed so he could eat?

"So," Dern chuckled as he watched the baby slurp his broth, "You've been traveling with him long?"

You shook your head. "A month," you murmured. "He... saved me."

Dern nodded. You hoped he didn't ask anything else. It wasn't like it was hard for you to talk or make friends, like you imagined it potentially could be for Mando, but you really didn't want to consider the possibilities of all the stuff that could have happened to you had another hunter found you.

Would you be dead? Alive? You shuddered at your internal question - would you still have your baby?

"See?" Dern said, "Man's got a good head on his shoulders."

You nodded absently in agreement. You'd been told that by Cara before, and by a man named Greef Karga only a week or so prior when he realized you were sticking around for a while. The Mandalorian made an impact. He killed with such an acute precision and his skills as a bounty hunter were unmatched. Yet he was gentle in ways that you don't think anyone would believe if you told them.

You, the child, and the Devaronian ate in silence. You hefted yourself off the cushion and walked to the sink basin. Your host got up to follow you into the kitchen.

You were aware of his proximity to you as you took a sponge to wash your dish. He watched you with dark eyes and you felt your pulse rise in fear.

"If you're just a friend, who's child is it you carry?" he asked, leaning against the counter.

"My ex husband," you said. Then you added dryly, "He's dead."

It was a bold faced lie and you hoped he wouldn't notice and leave you alone. No such luck.

"Perhaps then you need some... Assistance with raising your bundle."

Dern trailed a broad hand up your arm and you shied away from his touch. Goosebumps broke out on your skin, but the act of touching at all made your flesh crawl.

"I'll manage," you said firmly. You heard the quiver in your voice and you kicked yourself.

"Are you sure?" Dern didn't even wait for you to reply. He reached a hand over and roughly grabbed your belly. He dug his nails into your arm and spun you so he had you pinned against the counter. One of the drawer pulls bit into your back. His hands gripped you tight enough to bruise your skin.

"She's sure," came a gruff voice from behind you.

Mando was standing there, bowl in hand, helmet firmly back in place. You could tell from his body language that he was upset.

Dern took a step back, his hands raised in surrender.

"Come here," Mando ordered, nodding at you. You walked over to stand by him, your legs shaking bad enough that he wrapped a hand around your waist to steady you.

"She's going to bed," Mando said, keeping his eyes steady on Dern. "Got it? If I find out you did this again, I'll reactivate your tracking beacon. I know quite a few people looking for you."

"Whatever," he grunted, turning to the dishes.

Mando took you down the hall to the guest room, making sure to not frighten you.

Once inside the bedroom, you let out a loud sob and a shaky breath. You leaned heavily against the door and pressed your hand to your mouth to calm yourself. 

"Breathe," he whispered, his strong hands on your shoulders the only thing keeping you upright.

"Just breathe. I've got you, okay?"

You nodded quickly and tried to even out your breathing so you wouldn't hyperventilate.

"Can I hug you?" Mando murmured. "Is that okay?"

You thought for a minute and then nodded. No one had ever asked if they could touch you before...

He gently wrapped his arms around you and held you. His gloves were warm as they spread across your back. You expected the chest of his beskar to be cold, but it felt warm against your belly.

"You're safe," he promised, the modulator of his helmet made it come out in a whisper. "No one is going to touch you unless you let them first. Just breathe. I'm here."

You took a few more gulping breaths and relaxed into his arms, one hand gripping the fabric between his arm guards. You didn't think a metal man would give great hugs, but you also didn't think there was a way out of your marriage. You've been known to be wrong before.

There was a gentle flutter in your belly and you laughed, wiping your cheeks. "It's okay, little one..."

Mando pulled away from the hug slightly and looked down at where your hand rested on your stomach. He made a slight move to pull away but you grabbed his wrist and gently placed his hand beside yours.

"I still can't feel it," he said softly but with as much seriousness as he could muster, "Aruett'ika."

You laughed louder than you had in months.

TAGLIST (ask to be tagged!): @miscellaneous-mando @lestrange2703 @someplace-darker @the-last-twin-of-krypton @divineangelix @c1996 @mell-bell

[adowbaldwin]

Baldwins secret - Part 19

Augusta giggled, the sound now being Jacks favourite thing to hear "You promised you would not laugh!" He huffed

She calmed herself, though ever now and then she let out a small squeak of laughter "I cannot believe" she stopped to wipe a tear "You thought - you thought"

"Using a waterproof jacket to douse a fire seemed like a sensible solution!" He defended "Bloody pasta" he grumbled

"Wait wait wait" she stopped "the fire was cooked pasta?"

He looked shifty, already regretting telling her "i dont know what happened okay? One moment i was cooking for a friend, the next the top of the pasta set ablaze"

"OH OH" The tears fell freely, laughter ensuing untill she was laying on the chaise lounge wheezing

It felt like hours when it died down "are you quiet finished"

She looked over at him, biting the inside of her cheek and nodded her head "Mhmm"

"Im sure in your long life you have done embarrasing things" He goaded

"I was a chorus girl once, kicked my leg so high my prosthetic leg went flying off into the audience" Jack tried not to chuckle "Its alright, i believe in making the joke first before someone has the chance too"

"See, something equally as embarrasing happend to both of us" his attention quickly diverted back to the painting, though one thing had been bothering him; he just could not capture the colour of her eyes. In the broad daylight they were emeraled green, though as you inch closer the undertone changed and for the life of him he just could not get it right

She noticed the look on his face, contorted from laughter back to concentration "what is it? Have you not captured my double chin just perfectly?"

He scoffed "There is more meat on your fake leg" his face fell to regret as soon as he spoke

"Hahahahaahah" she smiled brightly "That was a good one, i will give you that" he still seemed distracted "What is it?"

"I just" he rose from his seat comming to kneel infront of her "I cant capture the colour of your eyes" he thumbed her chin, titlting her face down so he could see. Flecks of gold had been the missing piece of his puzzle "beautiful" he whispered

She could hear her own heartbeat thudding in her ears, the proximity was intoxicating. Instinctively, how her body both new her thoughts and also betrayed her, her lips parted.

One moment he was searching her eyes for colour, the next he was focoused on her blush pink lips "you are perfect"

She had enough of him talking "Are you ever going to shut up and kiss me?"

He took no more encouragement. His heart was racing, every single one of those clichès you read in fairy tales of a first kiss hit him all at once. The taste of her, he longed to have more. He hesitantly dipped his tongue past her slack lips, and she reciprocated battling back with as much fervour as he had.

She felt him move to push away, but God did he taste good. She could do this for hours. She gripped hold of his shoulders pulling him in tighter, closer. He shifted his weight, falling back with her to lay ontop.

The small moans of satisfaction she made, the little rubbing motions of his hands bunching up her blouse had the room hotting up.

With a house full of guests.

"Shit" Jack pulled back "your father - my father" he panicked

She smirked "My Grandfather enchanted this room on the orders of my Grandmother when my Uncle Anthony came of age. She said it was not propper the things he used to get up to, and that was in Rome. I cannot even imagine what went on in here, nor do i wish to know"

He knew they should stop, he should stop. It was wrong. Baldwin in the past week had shown him nothing but kindess and had finally welcomed him into his home and now he was touching his daughter, kissing her?

But God was it good.

It was bloody good.

And the noise she made, bloody fucking good

“fuck it” he snapped on a made decision. He crashed his lips to hers, hungry and desperate for it to never end.

Meanwhile, somewhere else in Rome...

Matthew skulked through the long winding streets, knowing exactly how to keep his movements undetected.

He had been following Baldwin for some miles, knowing he was off to a 'business meeting'.

He had known him all his life, and never had he seen him so hellbent in keeping someone a secret. Baldwin delighted in showing his women off, making them the talk of all gossip but this new one? She must be special.

He came to an abrupt stop, pulling a key from his pocket and Matthew waited in anticipation. The house was simple but elegant. Very typically Italin, but he would not say it aloud. This was 'Rome not Italy' as he had heard so many times after the past weeks.

He was shocked, taken back by seeing Sienna fling the door open and practically leap into his arms. Sienna, Dianas friend, a witch and also her Masters student.

Well, fuck.

[hiraemy]

Lumine and The Goblet of Fire

Word count: roughly 2.7k for this part

disclaimer: first of all, this au was heavily inspired by @majunju 's incredible art! she made chilumi as beauxbatons and durmstrang students and my brain went brrr so i had to write something for them??

both Genshin Impact and Harry Potter are not created by me. However, i took the liberty to mix a lot of concepts in this AU, so have that in mind when reading. 

for sake of plot, lets pretend that Durmstrang is located in Russia. Lumine, Paimon and Aether are the only ones from Beauxbatons, while the rest are from Hogwarts unless mentioned otherwise. All the characters that have adult models, like Jean, Lisa, Kaeya and Diluc are presumed to be adults, with Childe being the only exception. Also, all the characters that use children or teens’ models are students, with a few exceptions like Venti and Scaramouche [mihoyo pls stop giving us confusing ages and body models i never asked you anything]

(please, have in mind that english is like, my third language, if you notice a spelling or grammar error, feel free to message me!)

Act One: Lumine and her stupid impulse control

“I’m going to put my name on it.” Aether broke the silence suddenly

“What...? No! Oh god, I expected that from Paimon, but you’re just as bad as her!”

There were a lot of things that Lumine hated. 

Open shoes. A very specific type of silk-flower based perfume(Aether once tried it because he wanted to impress a girl, but it ended stinking for two weeks straight). History of Magic. Condensed slime— those that Paimon loved, but she couldn’t even see it without being sick—, potions that took more than one single day to brew. But the worst, certainly was—

“C’mon, Lumine! You’re just afraid that you’re going to get your ass kicked in the tournament!”

...when Aether was being dumb. 

“No, I’m not!” She countered quickly, ignoring the way Aether smirked like he knew exactly what buttons to push. Actually, it wasn't that far from reality, if she was being honest. She eyed the paper carelessly torn from his notebook that had his name as if she could burn it only with the power her heavy gaze. “You’re being dumb! Are you deaf or something? DIdn’t you hear them saying that the Triwizard Tournament has a high death count?”

“Paimon is sure it isn’t that bad!” The half-fairy smiled at her, eyes twinkling in greed and mischief. Lumine narrowed her eyes at the way she happily jumped in her steps, staying afloat in air for more time than it was normal to common humans “After all, they're opening it again, right? I’m certain that the ministry has done something to make it safer!”

“You’re the one to talk! You don’t care about anything other than the mora!” Lumine was quick to shut her down, sending a glare that didn’t affect any of the two. In that moment, the three of them entered the hall which had the Goblet of Fire in its full glory, a bunch of Hogwarts students surrounding it like curious birds, eager to know which students were applying for the tournament. 

“Have a bit of faith, wont’ya?” Aether smiled boyishly, flicking his wand from his sleeve and hitting it slightly at the top of his head, also giving a wave to a bunch of ravenclaw girls that awed at his presence. He continued in his confident stride, each step leaving him closer to the Goblet “Arent I the best of our school when it comes to Charms? Besides, I have my beautiful, great and awesome sister which of course, will give her full support and use her full knowledge to—”

“Shut up, you know it's not that what I’m concerned with!” Lumine hissed, grabbing her brother’s wrist and tugging, lowering her voice. In the corner of her eye, she saw the Dumstrang guys eyeing her, Aether and Paimon like wolves, ready to pounce on them. “You heard the rumors, right? Please, don’t tell my you’re that reckless-”

“What rumors?” Paimon squeaked, her eyes going wide for a fraction.

“The Fatui. You know them, right? The Tsaritsa’s pawns.” She whispered, narrowing her golden eyes and not daring to let her guard down when she was in the same room as the Durmstrang and Hogwarts students. “There are rumours that they are at the move. Some say that her personal minions, The Harbingers, are also involved in some dark scheme around Hogwarts.”

“Nah. You’re just being paranoid, there’s no way someone of that caliber would be here" Aether raised his eyebrow and Lumine wanted to tug her hair out in pure frustration. “Besides, it’s not like I'm some helpless dead weight. I know I already said it before, but I’m really confident it’s going to be fine.”

“Aether is right, Paimon thinks you should relax!” The white-haired girl smiled brightly, nodding her head to herself. “Or even better, you could enter the tournament too! It would make our chances of representing Beauxbatons even higher!”

“Don’t you ever listen to me? Why would I—” Before she could complete her nagging, Aether quickly threw his paper into the Goblet, the flames flickering aggressively before consuming his entry. Her mouth fell open in disbelief, but the crowd around them didn’t seem to notice her reaction as they gave a round of applause for her twin.

“What, Lumi? Are you afraid of losing?” He made a point of taunting her with the most infuriating shit-eating grin he had “Or… Maybe you’re not up to the challenge…? Y’know, it’s really okay if you feel too scared to face some bad guys—”

Ah. Right.

Aether knew how much she loathed being underestimated.

“Shut up!”

"Aww, there is no need to be this angry! I'm your big brother, of course I'll know when you feel too scared to put your name on the Goblet! It's okay to feel insecure, and I think it is better for you to not enter as you might not be able to—"

The crowd cheered again as the Goblet of Fire consumed another entry from Beauxbatons Academy.

“Lumi—”

“Shut up, im still mad at you.” 

Aether smiled sheepishly under his sister’s heavy glare and Paimon giggled. Lumine also sent her a heated look, making the half-fairy squeal childishly. 

“Luuuuumi!” Aether whined, making her sigh. “Don’t be mad at me! You were the one who put your name on the Goblet, right?”

“Don’t act like you’re innocent! You know damn well what you did—” She hissed like a annoyed cat. Aether pouted and tried to trap his sister into a hug, but she slapped him away on pure instinct. 

“Chill, chill! At least we’re getting a feast tonight, right? Not like we don’t eat well in any of the other nights, but a guy told me that Hogwarts’s food is really amazing on these special days!” Aether pleaded, the bright grin revealing how amused he was with his sister’s grumpiness. 

“Free food is great, but free great food is even better! There is absolutely no way you can be mad after you eat, right?” Paimon tried, and Lumine let out an even more tired sigh. “Besides, a lot of students applied for Beauxbatons! What are the chances of you being chosen, especially since you don’t actually want to do it?”

“Shut up Paimon, you just jinxed it,” Lumine scolded half heartedly, tucking her notebook under her arm. 

The bunch of Hogwarts students were a handful. Even with the merged classes to accomodate the Beauxbatons and Durmstrand delegations, it seemed like the hosting school’s own students were never going to be used to see them in the classrooms and corridors of the castle. Everywhere they went, their blue uniforms made the crowds stare them down with admiration, suspicion, curiosity or even anger in some cases. 

Aether and her were somehow getting even more stares than the other Beauxbatons students. Her twin shined under the spotlight, offering a gentle smile to the brave girls who tried to talk to him sometimes —how strange it was to see her brother gathering a bunch of fangirls—, but she felt uncomfortable under the attention.

“You’re too tense, Lumi” Her brother chimed, as if he could read her thoughts. His arms were carelessly fold behind his head and he shot her a gentle smile. “No one is going to bite your head off if you smile a bit, right? Just relax!”

“Now, the moment you all have been waiting for...! The Champion Selection!” The Headmaster, Barbatos announced, his voice carrying in the big hall and being able to shush all chatter. With a swoosh of his hands, the lights on the walls dimmed down, leaving the Goblet of Fire as the main attraction.

Lumine felt a shudder in her spine, knowing that despite seeming like a simple gesture, the skill level required to perform a wandless and also wordless spell was higher than everything could even imagine herself doing. Deep inside her gut, the respect she had for the Hogwarts Headmaster was raised to the roof, especially since his appearance was nothing but of a kind and carefree young boy. 

Below the table, her hands were connected in a silent prayer. Her luck couldn’t be that bad, could it?

If everything went well, neither her or Aether would be chosen.

“Mr. Alberich, would you like to do the honors?” Barbatos asked a blue-haired man, who Lumine vaguely recalled being a member of the Ministry of Magic named Kaeya. As he nodded and approached the Goblet, she felt her shoulders getting even more tenser.

The flames flickered aggressively, but Kaeya didn’t seem to be intimidated by it. He slowly extended his hand, the fire spiking suddenly and changeling from blue to a menacing pink as it spat a piece of paper.

“From Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Albedo!”

The crowd— majority being from Hogwarts itself, the hosting school— cheered loudly, the most excited ones being from Ravenclaw. A boy dressed in blue rose from his seat, his ash-blonde hair styled in a braid at the back of his head and teal eyes immediately catching Lumine’s attention. He quickly went to the front and was guided by one of the teachers to a backroom, disappearing from everyone’s view. Mr. Alberich waited until the cheers died down to announce the next Champion, the flames shaking as if the own Goblet was impatient. Finally, with a burst of green, another paper flew into his hands

“From Durmstrang Institute, Childe!”

This time was the turn of the students seated at the end of Slytherin’s table to scream, a lot of figures rising at once and making it almost impossible to pinpoint who exactly was Childe. However, Lumine could see how a tall guy with a slim build was receiving some strong pats on his back, his messy ginger hair being attacked by another short guy who was too enthusiastic. His eyes still glinted with pride and excitement, even if the neatness of his red uniform was entirely ruined by his peers.

She clapped politely, lowkey still distressed about the next Champion. She was suddenly startled when the guy, who was definitely Childe as he finally went to the front, made unexpected eye contact with her. His eyes lingered a few seconds more than she would be comfortable to admit, making her even more anxious.

Mr. Alberich approached the Goblet again for the third name. For some reason, Lumine thought that the man was being slow on purpose, or that the Goblet was being too indecisive, as the flames flickered between blue, yellow and orange aggressively for a few seconds. Everyone else seemed to notice this too, a few curious whispers breaking out between the students. Kaeya narrowed his eyes and then, not a second too late, the Goblet spat the last entry.

“From Beauxbatons Academy…”

Her stomach dropped and she thought she would throw up on the spot.

 “...Lumine!”

Aether screamed the loudest, right beside her ears. Paimon came to a close second though, shaking her by her shoulders like a ragdoll as if there wasn't a tomorrow. 

"Lumi! Lumi! What are you waitin' for? Go to the front!" She got up, feeling her stomach do all the kinds of flips and lowkey dizzy. Her head couldn't even register properly the cheers, her mind too busy shouting all the bad words she knew at her mental images of Paimon and her brother. 

She took in a deep inhale, keeping her breath until she was in the front of the whole hall, right in front of the teachers. Lumine saw the Beauxbatons Headmaster’s eyes take her in with slight tension in his slender fingers and she couldn’t help but to feel out of place.

"Mr. Zhongli…" She greeted quietly at the man, his tiny nod being the only thing to indicate his acknowledgment. He quickly led her into the backroom she saw both Champions go before, his brown cape flying elegantly behind him with every step.

"Miss Lumine, what a pleasant surprise… I must admit I didn't expect you to put your name in the Goblet." Zhongli started as a matter of fact, even if his eyebrow had a curious arch, as if expecting her to explain this turn of events.

“Yeah, neither did I, if I’m being honest.” She sighed, her hand wrapping around her stomach to hopefully help with the nausea and anxiousness

“Be assured, I’m sure the Goblet of Fire made an excellent choice for our school.” Zhongli said, his voice acquiring a softer tone, probably noticing how the blonde fidgeted a lot. Lumine clenched her fists, taking a deep breath. The man didn’t say anything else, and both of them reached a room decorated with Hogwarts’ trophies from the many tournaments held before.

She immediately saw Childe in a corner, poking a shiny statue that seemed to react at his mean touches, his eyes shining with some kind of rush and impatience she really didn’t want to explore any further. A tall woman, with elegant white hair that reached at her waist and ice blue eyes, slapped his hand harshly, freeing the poor statue from the Dumstrang’s clutches. Lumine didn’t know who exactly this woman was— It was common knowledge that Durmstrang Institute’s headmaster couldn’t be bored to attend the tournament personally—, but she could assume safely that she was at least a teacher.

With his distraction taken forcefully from him, Childe finally seemed to notice Lumine, turning on his heels with hands on his pockets. The witch felt another chill, incredibly uncomfortable with his heavy gaze analysing every feature, but she prayed to every god that she could at least maintain the stoic features she was quite infamous for. His blue eyes stopped carefully to analyze her face— a fact that she pretended to not notice by looking away—, with a satisfied(?) smirk appearing on his face that screamed bad intentions.

It took more than she would like to admit to pretend she wasn't the least affected by his heavy gaze on the side of her face. Her arms crossed around her face, her hand resting discreetly above the hidden pocket in her blazer that had her wand. Golden eyes searched the room again for another distraction, until they landed on the figure of the ash blonde boy chosen for Hogwarts.

He was pretty, no one could deny that, but even if he had those stupid charming eyes of his, there still was something about him that really threw her off. She couldn't exactly pinpoint it, but Lumine was sure that Albedo had some kind of deep dark secret kept hidden in himself. Was the whole Harbinger thing making her paranoid? 

Before she could answer her own question, Barbatos entered the room with other Hogwarts teached in tow. The three of them— her, Childe and Albedo— came closer to the fireplace where everyone gathered, eyeing the teachers and the Headmaster who stood in front of them in a neutral position, except for mr. Zhongli, who was behind her, and the mysterious woman she supposed was Childe's teacher behind him. Occupying the vacant space, a pretty woman immediately went to stand at Albedo's back. She had light-brown hair and alluring green eyes, but the most iconic feature was her curvy body accentuated by her purple dress.

If she had to guess, she would assume that she was Ravenclaw's house head. Technically, Barbatos had to be a neutral party, as the hosting Headmaster, even if everyone knew his favouritism towards his own school.

"Well, now that we're back here, far from prying eyes, guess I can finally drop the formalities!" The small man suddenly said with a big smile, catching her off guard. In the corner of eye, she saw that Childe had a similar reaction, but Albedo seemed exasperated. "I must say, this year's competition is going to be tough. But I'm sure you three will be able to handle it just fine, hehe!"

Oh god. Was Barbatos like this in real life…? Suddenly, the previous mighty and ruthless image she had of the Headmaster was shattered. All the books talked about him as one of the seven great wizards of the last war, so she expected something more… Aggressive?

"Venti, please." For a greater surprise, Mr. Zhongli seemed used to his attitude, poorly hiding his smile behind a fist.

"Yeah, right. The Triwizard Tournament" He forced a cough, hardening his expression and straightening his posture. "From now on, Mister Childe, Mister Albedo and Miss Lumine will face difficult trials to determine which one of you is the greater wizard. I should also mention that the prize will be eternal glory and ten million mora, of course." 

"We already warned you before, but let me repeat it. If you don't take these challenges seriously, you'll probably be squashed to the ground." Mr. Alberich stated bluntly. 

"Is there a chance of dying?" Childe asked, the way his head tilted indicating that he wasn't asking just because he was scared. 

"There were a few casualties some years before, but this time, the Ministry is making sure to bring some precautionary methods." He answered cooly, his expression not changing the slightest. "That being said, we still stand on the recommendation that you take extreme caution."

He didn't deny it. The fact didn't pass above any of the students' minds, Lumine tensing her shoulders, Childe grinning madly and Albedo pressing his lips.

"Anyway, about the first task," Barbatos took the lead again, a satisfied smirk on his lips. "The three of you will face an ability challenge. In other words, you'll be facing magic combat right from the start."

"Against each other?" Lumine asked, not wanting to fight Childe even in her dreams. He exhaled some mad, maybe sociopath vibes if she looked at it from a certain angle, and she certainly didn't want to test her theory. 

"Nope," Barbatos said easily, tilting his head in fake innocence "Where's the fun in that? I can't say anything else, since it's supposed to be a secret until the trial— Ah, by the way, about the test, it will be on November 24th. You have two weeks to prepare, so have fun!"

Forget every good thing she had thought of him before. He was a Madman. She was surrounded by a bunch of madmans.

Oh dear lord.

[kpop-zone]

My Favorite Person | Yves

Genre: fluff

Wordcount: 2,083

Request: can i request making out with yves or some fluff with her like gf yves?

“Why couldn’t they have just put me in a group of four?”

Sooyoung said to herself while letting her head hang in defeat.

The two of you rarely had been able to spend time together the past weeks, because of her busy schedule. But today the management had finally granted her a free day and she was able to see you. It was supposed to be a day filled with activities involving only the two of you to make up for the lost time. In this dorm, however, that seemed to be impossible.

Sooyoung had just left your side for a second to get some snacks in the kitchen when you were suddenly surrounded by Kahei, Yeojin, Haseul and Yerim. The maknae made the other members sit down next to you and was now excitedly telling you something while waving a skateboard in the air. So much for spending some alone time. Sooyoung sighed and grabbed the plates of food to bring them to the living room.

“Wow, Yeojin, that’s awesome!”

She heard you praising the youngest as she came closer, making her almost roll her eyes.

You were just too nice for your own good. Her members loved you because of that. Whenever you visited the dorm, they swarmed you and wanted to spend some time with you; time that was actually reserved for her. It wasn’t like she wanted her members to hate you, but maybe they should just like you a little less so that she could have you for herself when you visited the dorm. There was nothing wrong about a little small talk, but why did you have to play games with them, let yourself get entangled in an endless conversation about bread or agree to sit still for hours in order to get yourself drawn. Her members could surely do those things with someone else too. She, however, couldn’t find herself another Y/N. It was a dilemma. When she looked over at the couch, she felt her heart flutter because of how caring you were, but at the same time, she also felt jealous, because you weren’t giving her any attention at all.

Grumpily she ended up standing behind you when she reached the couch because the seats next to you were already occupied. You immediately turned your head when you felt her hand on your shoulder and flashed her a smile before giving Yeojin your attention again.

“Ok, look guys, look. I can totally do a kickflip.”

Yeojin exclaimed way too loud before putting the skateboard on the floor.

Carefully she positioned herself on it before making sure a last time that everyone was watching her. Then she bent her knees to push herself off the ground, apparently with the attention of making her skateboard follow her. Unfortunately though, it side-slipped instead, causing Yeojin to lose her balance and fall to the floor with a loud thud. For a moment, the whole room went quiet in shock before everyone rushed to Yeojin’s side while pitying her.

“Are you ok?”

“Oh my god, are you hurt?”

“Can you move?”

Sooyoung watched the scene from the back. For a second, she was worried as well but when Yeojin started babbling chipperly a second later, she shook her head in disbelief. It was just not possible to spend a calm afternoon in this dorm.

Haseul and you carried the maknae to the couch with no regards to her protests.

“Let me try again!”

Yeojin whined, but you held her down on the couch.

“Definitely not. You’ve hit your head really hard.”

Responsible as you were, your parent instincts kicked in and you ordered Yerim to get some ice for Yeojin’s head.

“We have to keep an eye on you now. Who knows, maybe you have a concussion or something.”

Sooyoung felt bad because of the jealousy that flared up inside of her because of your comment. Of course, you were right. Yeojin could be seriously hurt. But she also knew that it meant that you would stay in the living room with the others instead of spending some time with her. She should be glad that you had learned to love her members that much and were willing to take care of them. Right now, however, she just wanted you to take care of her.

Sooyoung knew though that she could forget about that for now, so she dragged her feet to her room with a slight pout on her face. Yeojin seemed to be well taken care of and she really wasn’t in the mood to spend the afternoon with all the others. Therefore, she let herself fall on her bed where she immediately hid underneath her blanket in search for comfort. Boredom, however, soon started to make her feel even more irritated, especially because she heard loud laughter from the living room.

“I’m glad you’re having fun.”

Sooyoung mumbled bitterly before grabbing her headphones from the nightstand to start watching some videos on her phone.

It helped her to block out the noisy surrounding, but to her dislike, she couldn’t block out the noise in her head. Her thoughts kept revolving around you, making her jealousy grow with every second that you spend with them instead of her. One video after the other flashed over the screen without Sooyoung paying any attention to them. She was caught in her own head where she rummaged through all her memories with you to find the last time, the two of you had spent some quality time together without interruptions. She had to dig deep and was only catapulted back into the present time when a movement to her feet made her jump in surprise. Slowly she took out her headphones but kept hiding underneath her blanket.

“Jagi?”

Your familiar voice sounded in the room and Sooyoung could hear a little insecurity in it, but still decided to stay quiet.

“Is everything ok?”

You added after a while, making her huff in frustration. How could you be so oblivious?

“Of course, I am. You can go back to the others.”

She responded annoyed, causing the room to turn silent for a while. You didn’t say anything, but Sooyoung knew that you hadn’t left the room yet. You were still sitting at the foot of her bed, probably confused as to why your girlfriend was behaving so weirdly. Eventually, you shifted a bit and Sooyoung thought that you would be returning to the living room, but instead you piped up again.

“Baby...”

Your voice was soft, but Sooyoung also imagined having heard a little amusement in it.

“Are you jealous?”

You suddenly asked, causing Sooyoung to gasp offended. How dare you? Theoretically you were right of course, but she surely wouldn’t give you the satisfaction of admitting her jealousy. Grumpily she pulled away the blanket from her face to glare at you.

“No.”

She responded firmly before sulkily turning her head to the side.

“Hm...”

You nodded understandingly, but in the corner of her eyes, Sooyoung could see that you were suppressing a smirk.

“Such a pity. I wanted to prove to you that there is no need to be and show you some things that I only do with you.”

Sooyoung’s heart skipped a beat because of your statement, causing her to whip her head around. You smiled sweetly, but your insinuation was unmistakable when she watched you crawling on top of her.

A blush creeped to her cheek. Nevertheless, she couldn’t stop an excited smile to play on her lips.

“And what would that be?”

She feigned innocence, causing you to chuckle.

“I’m not great at explaining, I think I’ll better show you.”

You grinned mischievously before starting to leave featherlight kisses on her neck all the way up to the corner of her mouth. Sooyoung’s eyes fluttered close as you managed to make her forget about everything that was surrounding her with every caress of your lips on her skin. Reflexively her arms looped around your neck as you leaned back to look deeply into her eyes, silently asking for permission to continue. Without hesitation, Sooyoung pulled you closer to capture your lips with hers. Although her anger from before had fainted by now, she still couldn’t choke down the jealousy that was bubbling inside of her, making her deepen the kiss immediately to claim you, causing you to  squeak silently in surprise before falling into the steady rhythm of her lips.

Despite Sooyoung’s sudden burst of emotions, however, your kisses soon became slow and lazy as you laid beside her and entangled your legs with her to minimize the space between the two of you. Subconsciously, Sooyoung let her hands wander, slipping them underneath your shirt to graze your abdomen softly, making you hum into the kiss.

She had missed this. And she never wanted this evening to end.

Sooyoung promised herself to not let anything get between the two of you today, not even her lips that were swollen and probably incredibly red by now. There was just too much that she wanted to make up for. Once again, however, one of her members thwarted her plans. While the two of you were still laying tightly intertwined on the bed, the door of the room suddenly flew open.

“Y/N! Do you want salty or sweet- oh my god!”

Yerim squealed loudly as she realized what she had just walked into.

Sooyoung quickly pushed you away a bit and whipped her head around to see the younger member standing in the door with her eyes covered and a bright red face.

“Um... I’m so sorry... I-“

Yerim stuttered as she walked backwards and stumbled out of the room.

As soon as the door fell into the locks again, Sooyoung looked at you, causing both of you to start laughing loudly. She let her head fall to your chest and sighed dramatically.

“This dorm will be the death of me.”

You chuckled in response while patting her head comfortingly until Sooyoung swung her legs over the edge of the bed.

“Well I guess that was our cue then...”

She mumbled while trying to get off the bed to join the others.

Suddenly, however, a force pulled her back, causing her to yelp in surprise.

“Y/N! Shouldn’t we stop and go to the living room?”

Sooyoung asked perplexed, figuring that you probably owed an apology to the poor Yerim as well. But apparently you had other plans.

“No, why should we? They have been warned now to better not enter the room. That’s our chance.”

You shrugged causing Sooyoung to slap your arm.

“You are unbelievable...”

She muttered but didn’t put up a fight when you entangled your legs and started to devote your attention to her neck again. Sooyoung immediately started to relax and was willing to forget about the others when you suddenly pulled away. Confused she looked at you, thinking that you might have changed your mind.

“You know that you will always be my favorite person on this planet, right?”

You asked while stroking the outline of her face gently, causing her heart to flutter.

“Yeah, I know. I just wish that we could spend more time together.”

Sooyoung admitted and you nodded understandingly.

“Don’t worry, there will probably come a time when you’d be glad to finally get rid of me. For now, you should enjoy living your dream as long as it lasts.”

You responded, causing her to giggle. She wondered whether the other members would still annoy her in the future, even when Loona wouldn’t exist anymore; secretly, she wished that they would, because it would mean that they would always stay together. But she didn’t want to waste this evening, overthinking. Quickly she shook her head to get rid of all distractions and gave you her attention again.

“Well for now, I want to enjoy this a little longer.”

Sooyoung motioned between the two of you with her head, causing you to grin widely before leaning in for a kiss again.

Lovingly, you started stroking her sides while Sooyoung ran her fingers through your hair, enjoying the peacefulness of the moment. Maybe the two of you didn’t have tons of fancy dinner dates or romantic walks by the river, but Sooyoung knew that she wouldn’t want to have it any other way. No hardships in the world could make her want to have a different life and as long as she was your favorite, every memory with you was worthwhile.

[morgana-ren]

Im. I love you? Your answer to that ask is beautiful, also I forgot about the other meaning for weed for a moment and got confused like, 'is morgana-ren a stoner? Beefy weed muscles???' and now i cant help but imagine stoned Shiggy. Specifically him forcefully shotgunning his captive because hes bored and if hes getting stoned she might as well too. Laughing at her when she gets spacey. This is a fun train of thought lol, thanks for inspiring it

I am a ridiculous and incoherent person. My first instinct is to literally reply with complete gibberish to most things. Shaming me has absolutely Z E R O effect because I have no shame. I’m a ridonkulous person. Last time I got high, I just laid in bed singing “Secret tunnel, secret tunnel” for like 3 hours.

To be fair, I would also do that completely buttfuck sober.

Gods I wish I had a gif of Shig smonkin some donk wods, but since I don’t, you’ll have to settle for me writing it.

PSA after the fact: I AM SO SORRY IT GOT A LIL CREEPY BUT TO BE FAIR, IT’S ME AND IF YOU SENDIN ME SHIT YOU KNOW YOU HAVE TO BE REAL FECKIN’ SPECIFIC OR ELSE I’M GUNNA MAKE IT CREEPY also weed hits me way different than it does most folks so it’s really hard for me to be able to accurately describe how it might be to anyone else. SO imagine this is supervillain quirky weed he has special made to calm his...uh,.. never ending rage. also it’s ridiculously longer than I planned. cause I get carried away. anyway love you!

His room is dank and smells like mold and must.

Tight metal bindings cut into your wrists, leaving you raw with crusted blood despite the fact you stopped fighting days ago. Your tailbone feels bruised from constantly shifting on his worn down carpet, your legs prickling and aching from inactivity.

He’s kept you bound here for a while, handcuffs looped through the foot of his bed. You’re not entirely sure how long, since his ratty blackout curtains make it hard to see daylight. He’s got them taped down, blocking out all but the tiniest slivers of light. Like most of his life, his room exists in total darkness.

Time has little meaning here.

He doesn’t leave you alone often, only really exiting the room to bring you food which you refuse to eat. Most of it has been kicked into the corner, the soft buzz of fruit flies accumulating more and more by the day. It frustrates him, but he’s keen on reminding you that he’s patient. You’ll relent eventually.

Truth be told, your willpower is starting to give. Your body is stiff and sore, head perpetually aching from crying. His moods are like whiplash, one second crooning to you how special you are to him, the next backhanding you and calling you a stubborn bitch. You don’t know what he wants from you. If the fates were merciful, he’d get it over with and just kill you.

Ending your life doesn’t seem like it’s high on his list of priorities.

He’s facing away from you now, tinkering with something on his desk by the light of his various computer monitors. You can’t make out what it is, only that he’s been at it for the past ten minutes. Grateful as you are for his lack of attention, it always makes you nervous when he gets preoccupied. It usually means he’s working on some new and exciting way to break you.

You take comfort in the momentary peace, some temporary reprieve from the invasive leer of those horrid crimson eyes scanning over you in the darkness. Whatever he’s doing, there’s nothing you can do to stop it. Only steel yourself against what he gives you when he’s finished.

He reaches into his desk, pulling out a plastic bag of something you can’t make out. All you know is when you hear the ziplock open, a strange scent floods the room. It smells vaguely familiar, but between your fucked up headspace and even worse situation, you can’t really bring yourself to care.

Leaning against the little metal bed leg you’re imprisoned against, you realize just how heavy your eyes are as you rest the back of your head on his threadbare mattress. Fighting off oncoming waves of pulsing anxiety takes most of your energy reserve, and bouts of sleep tend to come few and far between when you’re sleeping in the den of a predator.You’re so tired, so worn down, and you don’t know what else he could do to you that he hasn’t already done or planning to do. It would be a lie to say you hadn’t considered saying that to him, but you feel like tempting the universe or him isn’t a great idea right now. Either way, your eyelashes feel like weights dragging you under into the sea of sleep.

You’re almost there when his chair squeaks and you jolt awake, that overwhelming sense of dread coming over you. Your instincts blare and somehow you just know his eyes are on you again, waiting for you to acknowledge him. He wants your attention, and he expects you to give it.

Dragging your exhausted lids open when you know you’ll have to see that terrifying man is a burden you haven’t grown accustomed to having quite yet, but it’s one you bear anyway. Besides, you know that if he thinks you’re ignoring him, he has no problem forcing you to look at him. It’s easier to just give him what he wants. He hurts you less that way.

So you do, and just like you expected, he’s simpering down at you, holding something you can’t make out in his hands. Gulping comes on impulse; he looks far too pleased and that never bodes well for you.

“Do you know what this is?”

He holds it out and it takes you a second to make it out in the dark, but you know that basic shape.

“I-is that a pipe?”

“At least you know that much.” He gives you a cheeky lip quirk, making heat rise in your cheeks. Palming it in one hand, he uses the other to fish in his pocket, one finger carefully pulled outside the kangaroo pouch of his jacket. Following his movements, your brows furrow and curiosity almost wills you to speak. The words stall in your mouth, however, when you see him pull a cheap lighter out between two fingers.

He flicks it a few times with his thumb, sparking the light and sending small cinders dancing across the his lap. After a few tries, it finally holds. The light across his face only makes him seem all the more sinister, exacerbating the shadows that reside in the craggy, marred flesh of his cheeks. The flame dances in his pupils and the orange tinged shine glimmers off the edges of his weirdly perfect, jagged teeth. It’s extremely unsettling.

He lets the flame die, picking his pipe back up and tapping it on the desk once or twice.

“I don’t do this often. I usually prefer to keep a clear head.” He lazily arches back in his chair, inhaling the dank stench of the sticky green plant packed in his pipe before returning his gaze to you. “But in some cases, I find it can help you relax.”

Bringing the pipe to his face, he wraps his chapped lips around the bit and sparks the lighter again. You watch as the flame is sucked toward the bowl, igniting the contents and bringing them to a dull simmer.Thumb twitching on the carb and pinkie pulled away, he inhales, letting his head lull back on the seat of his chair. After a few seconds and a suppressed cough or two, he leans forward and exhales, sending a splay of thick, billowing smoke directly into your face.

You turn your head, watery eyes clinging shut, but it’s not enough to keep the acrid stench from clogging through your sinuses. It constricts your throat, compelling an instinctive cough from deep in your chest. Whatever it is he’s smoking, it’s strong.

His high pitched laugh echoes off the barren walls of his room as you scrunch your nose and try to disperse the smoke pooled in your face. When the air finally clears, he’s leaning toward you, arms resting on his knees with the pipe in one hand and his lighter in the other. The little embers still burn beneath the lip of the bowl, little grey spirals rising up from the still burning plant clusters.

He holds it out to you (as if you could take it with your hands restrained behind your back), hyena-grinning as you scowl up towards him.

“You should try a little. It might make you a little more-” Pausing, he pretends to be in thought. More mockery, you really wish you were desensitized to it by now. “-friendly.”

“I would have been friendly if you hadn’t kidnapped me like some sort of psychopath!”

He rolls his eyes at your outburst, languidly pushing himself off of his dilapidated computer chair and crouching down next to you instead. You know better than to kick at him, he won’t hesitate to break your legs to keep you in line. All you can do is stare at him nervously as he shakes his shaggy pale hair out over his forehead, still sporting that unnerving expression. His scarlet eyes burn arguably brighter than fire from the pipe, and exponentially more threatening.

He moves a little closer into your space, bringing the piece back up to his lips and lighting it up once again. He takes a deep inhale this time, even deeper than the first. Chest puffed and breath held, his lanky arm reaches out back behind him places the still-burning pipe back on the desk, gaze never leaving yours.You figure he’s going to blow it in your face again, either to be annoying or to try and give you some sort of shitty second rate high to make you more malleable.

It’s obnoxious, but not even close to the worst thing he’s done to you.

Yet, his cold, dry fingers grab at your jaw, forcing you to keep your attention on him. A chipped nail from his thumb prods at your lower lip and you realize he wants you to open your mouth. You could tell him to go fuck himself, but that only gives him what he wants, if only for a moment. Instead, you choose to glower at him.

If looks could kill, he would probably keel over, but unfortunately you live in a world where he has the upper hand. He squints at you, something you know would be equally as furious as your own grimace if his features had the freedom to express it. The fingers on your chin clamp down, digging into your soft skin in a bruising grip. The more you defy him, the more he punishes you, and his large hands have more than the power they need to cause you pain.

Eventually you feel your jaw start to crack. You try to hold out, try to stay your ground, but it becomes too much. Between his brutal strength and your already weakened condition, it’s no use fighting him on something he really wants.

You open your mouth, if only to cry in pain, and he immediately crashes his lips against yours.Teeth clack as you try to shake him off, but it’s too late. He’s breathing his air into your lungs, caustic mixture of the taste of the weed and the bitter scent of his breath swirling deep inside you. You try to heave it back at him, but the damage is done. Smoke barely seeps from the tiny cracks he allows between your faces, and your need to breathe is stronger than your ability to fight, so eventually, you relent.

You gulp the air he gives you down, just wanting him to get the fuck away from you. You can feel his lips quirk in a smile as you fight the urge to spit up from the foul scent of his exhale, ripped and bloodied lips scratching against yours. Eventually when he does pull away from you, you go into a hysterical coughing fit and between your bouts, you can hear him cackle.

You finally manage to calm yourself, but whatever it is he’s made you inhale, it’s strong. Stronger than anything you’re used to. Even second hand, your head is already humming, and you can feel your chest tighten against your will.

“You feel it, don’t you?” High pitched giggling and a weirdly gentle brush of a hand across your buzzing, swollen cheek. You go to swat him off, hissing in pain when the metal edge round holding you back cuts into an already existing cut. “Soon you won’t have any fight left in you at all.”

He leaves you alone for a minute, door clicking behind him. You catch your breath in his absence, eyes scanning your surroundings. You look for something, anything he has left within your reach that you can use to escape. It’s what you do during the exceedingly brief moments he’s not around, and so far, it hasn’t yielded any results, but you refuse to give up.

The curtains likely mean that there’s presumably a window behind there. If you can just get free, you might be able to jump out. Problem is you’re stuck with your hands restrained behind you on a metal bed post. It doesn’t matter how much you kick and scream, no one ever comes, so it’s probably safe to say whoever is below or above you doesn’t give a shit. You need to get out of these cuffs.

He smokes, at least occasionally. He’s probably got a bobby pin around here for scraping. If he’s anything like your mates, they probably litter the floor. To be fair, even if you get one, you don’t really know what to do with it. You could try your hand at lockpicking?

Heh. Hand. Get it? Cause all those hands?

Focus.

The biggest problem right now is the handcuffs. Technically, you could get out of them, but you’d have to disjoint your fingers to do it, which takes away from your already pathetic chances at escaping. It hurts to move your wrists, let alone yank on them. Why the fuck did this asshole have handcuffs anyway? Unless he’s doing some kinky shit in his down time. You wouldn’t put it past him, he’s obviously a weird guy. He seems like the type to be into some dirty stuff. You don’t know who with, but there’s probably villain fuckers out there he could find and take advantage of. Gross.

You audibly laugh.That’s funny.That’s really funny. You don’t know why, but the thought makes you giggle uncontrollably. Your mind refuses to stay on track.

Fucking focus!

Somewhere far away, you hear the door open and his heavy footsteps off to the side of you. Too late. You’re still laughing.

“Hey Shigaraki-”

He’s leaning down next to you, fucking with something behind you. Your hands. He’s messing around your hands. He’s cold. Why are his hands always so goddamn cold? Is that why he’s a villain? Cold hands? That would make you a villain too.

Your head feels several sizes too big, and you can’t help but think about how he smells like dust. Everything feels slow. You can feel your heart pumping. You can hear it too.

“-You should like, just let me go.That would be kinda cool. My hands hurt.”

You don’t notice they aren’t even cuffed anymore, or that he’s scooping you up in his arms and gently placing you on his bed.

“Don’t try to fight, now. You need a tolerance to before it’ll feel normal. You’ll only hurt yourself, and that would be such a shame.”

You can tell he’s mocking you again, but you just chortle because the words are processing like a slurry. The back of your head feels so soft. It’s definitely not the awful metal he’s made you crick your neck on the past little while. He’s touching your arms and it tickles. Flashes of his face play in your mind a little slower than they’re probably actually happening. It’s terrifying, but the fear doesn’t register. You wanna touch his face. You bet it feels funny.

You can hear the click of handcuffs again, and you know he’s cuffed you once again (so rude), just somewhere new now. Your fingers grip and you feel metal bars. A bed frame. Again. Uuugh. You kick your feet a little and they bounce off the mattress. Bouncy.

There’s a weight shift near your feet, and before you can really understand what’s happening, he’s on top of you, face hovering less than an inch above yours. Your cheeks are burning as his flaxen hair tickles and curtains you, and no matter how hard you want to, you can’t stop staring at his eyes. They’re so fucking intense you swear they scorch you. Like an abyss, you feel yourself being swallowed inside them as they stare long into you. Hate. Rage. So much embodied negativity you can practically feel it. Panic blooms in your chest but your body is reacting too slow. All you can do is squirm.

“Shh-” He’s caged your head in his arms, and his breath is glossing your cheek, just as sour as before but somehow you know what’s about to happen is much worse than forcefully smoking you out. “This’ll be much better for you if you relax and give in. Who knows? You could even enjoy it.”

He grinds his clothed pelvis into yours, and while somewhere inside your head, sirens are blaring, all your body can process is pressure against your most sensitive area. You whine, and he takes the opportunity to press his lips to yours again. Your mouth is slack and moist, so it’s nice and easy for him to slide his slimy, disgusting tongue down your throat. With your brain short circuiting from both shock and whatever he’s made you consume, your body doesn’t have enough control over its facilities to fight back.

He kisses you long and hard, if you can call whatever he’s doing to you kissing. It’s more like he’s trying to devour you. Sloppy, wet, and possessive, like he’s trying to choke you with his essence. It could have been a minute. It could have been hours. You don’t know.

When he does finally pull away, you can feel your stomach lurch as he laps at the string of spit that connects you to him, but you only blink your eyes wearily despite your extreme bodily reaction. You feel sleepy, or more accurately, your eyelids feel kinda heavy. Really heavy. Something visceral is telling you to stay awake, to keep fighting, but you just can’t. You can hear yourself speak but you don’t even know what you’re saying. You don’t remember.

“You’re cute like this, all spacey and stupid.” He flicks your forehead and your eyes flicker back open, but only briefly. “I guess it hit you kinda hard, huh? Sorry about that. I should have warned you. It must’ve slipped my mind.”

He presses his mouth to yours again, a little softer this time. You’re almost out at this point, everything feels so heavy. So sluggish. You barely feel his long, thin fingers glide slowly up your shirt.

“I think you could come to like it here with me if you stop being stubborn. But that’s okay. I forgive you. Like I told you before. I’m patient. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

[lilyharvord]

The Chain (Part 5)

Main Concept: Two love struck idiots get sent back to a pretty UGH time period in their lives (that required me to reread all the books again) and have to hide the fact that they know everything. 

Find Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 

Tag list: @delilahlbard @king-maven-calore @scxrletguardsdawn @freaky-freiday @whatsup-gorls @kuwei @redqueenetwork @elane-in-the-shadows @evangeline-of-montfort  @evangelineartemiasamos @petergrantkavinsky (girl I’m so sorry that I haven’t tagged you yet!) @thatoddgirl777 @elliekratzzz. If you want a tag please ask ((: 

Chapter 5 

Cal leaves me a few houses away from my own, and stays in the shadows of another home’s stilts while I walk the last hundred meters to my porch. I can spot the outline of my father’s shadow in the dark as I approach and I glance over my shoulder once to make sure Cal is concealed. Even to my now trained eye, I can’t spot him. He’s much better at hiding now. 

“You shouldn’t worry your mother like that,” my father’s voice rumbles from the shadows, his eyes narrowed. They dance over my shoulder, probably trying to spot what I am looking for. He won’t spot Cal though. At least, he won’t spot him if Cal stays put until we get onto the porch. While I love him, sometimes he’s not the brightest bulb in the country. 

“I’m sorry.” I whisper to my father as he squints at the shadows down the street. If Cal didn’t stay put I think I might have to kill him. 

Slowly turning his eyes back to me, my father shifts in his chair before jabbing a thumb at the utility box. He lets out a huff. “Power went out. Thought I’d give it a look.” He wheels over to the source of his musings wheezing the whole way. I follow dutifully, already sensing the electric current humming from the ground. I can tell which wire is faulty too. Like a small spot of darkness in otherwise pure light, it sticks out like a sore thumb. “’Lec papers didn’t work?” I ask as I watch him try to tinker with the box. 

He pulls one of them from his shirts and feeds it into the box. Nothing happens though. Twisting my lips to the side, I step in front of him and hear his wheel’s squeak as he rolls out of my way. 

“What are you going to do? You can’t fix the damn busted thing.” He grumbles, and that clicking in his chest gets louder as he coughs. 

Prying the thing open with my fingers, I glance at the mess of wires. I need him to look away while I do this. I can’t have him seeing what I can do, especially if all I do is grab a wire and all the lights turn on. I step back from it then, knowing that I’ll have to do it the old fashioned way. 

He rolls forward and smacks the box before I can even try to do anything. His hand hits the metal with a deadening thump that I can feel through my own resting on top. I watch as he continues to hit it, hoping to bring something to life with each swing. I let him throw one good hit before thrusting life back into the box. Sparks dance on the wires, and above us, the porch light hums to life. 

“Well, fancy that,” Dad mutters before spinning in the mud and wheeling himself back to his pulley. Closing the box with one hand, I clench my other hand into a fist to quench the sparks that want to explode to life. 

He waits for me to approach before buckling in and saying, “No more running.” 

I nod and try to smile. I don’t have the heart to tell him what he needs to hear. I’ll be gone by tomorrow and I won’t be back for days. They’ll think I’m dead, and that’s fine. We’re alright someday, I promise myself as I watch the rig rise to the porch with a whine. When he gets there, I climb the ladder, using the time to glance in the shadows for Cal. One detaches and starts walking. He stayed the whole time, I think with a stupid smile. Maybe he had gotten a little smarter. 

At the top, Dad struggles with the rig and I scramble up the ladder before helping him with the belts. When he’s finally free, he mutters, “Bugger of a thing.” 

I can’t help but smile. For all his rough edges, I know what is beneath. “Mom will be happy you’re getting out of the house.” 

He grabs my hand tightly, and the callouses there rub at my skin, reminding me that we’re not out of this hell hole yet. His hands never do soften, no matter how long he lives in Montfort. 

“Don’t tell your mother,” he whispers to me. I purse my lips in response, knowing that given today, she could use even the resemblance of hope. “But—“

“I know it seems like nothing, but it’s enough of something. She’ll think it’s a step on a big journey, you see? First I leave the house at night, then during the day, then I’m rolling around the market with her like it’s twenty years ago. Then things go back to the way they were.” His eyes darken as he recounts what I know will come to pass. He fights to keep his emotions at bay, his voice only wavering slight at the end. “I’m not getting better, Mare. I’m never going to feel better. I can’t let her hope for that, not when I know it’ll never happen. Do you understand?”

I nod, understanding absolutely what that means. Hope comes in small flares to my family, only to be snuffed out. My brothers return from war, but not Shade. Then Shade returns, only to be lost again. They lose Shade, but they gain Clara. They lose me, but my father gains his legs and lungs back. They say goodbye to me on a tarmac when I fly back to Norta to save a country that has never bothered with me, but gain their safety. They almost lose me in Norta when I go the second time. I return to them though, dragging a heartbroken prince behind me. I wish I could tell Dad what is coming, that the future will be better, even if we lose parts of ourselves along the way. He rolls inside though, leaving me on the porch while a weak river breeze cuts through my hair. 

 ((((/////////))))

I’m already awake when the officers kick down our door. I couldn’t sleep, planning every second of tomorrow down to the second. I don’t care that my plan may not survive the first few moments. I will make sure that nothing goes completely off kilter. 

I wake Gisa slowly, and help her out of her cot then down the ladder. She accepts my help at first, and leans on her good arm for support as she goes. Mom waits for us on the floor, and opens her arms to Gisa before engulfing her in a hug. She keeps her eyes on my though. I know why. They’ve come for me, and whatever motherly instinct she possess has told her so. 

Two officers wait by the door, with Walsh between them. My chest tightens at the sight of her. In almost a month, she will be foaming at the mouth on the floor a chamber. Does she feel her clock ticking down like I do?

“We submit to search and seizure,” Dad grumbles, but the officers don’t move. Walsh raises a clean brow at my father’s words though. Stepping forward she brings her eyes to me. “Miss Barrow, you have bee summoned to Summerton.”

I expel the breath I’m holding. I had worried that Cal had given Walsh different orders, maybe to take me another way, but apparently he understood that today has to occur. Gisa’s good hand closes around mine, and I hear for the first time her whisper, “no.” 

“You have been summoned to Summerton,” Walsh repeats when I stay rooted to the spot, shocked by Gisa’s words. “We will escort you. Please proceed.” 

She gives me a smile as I step forward, but Gisa doesn’t let go of my hand. Seeing this Walsh dips her head to my parents. “Don’t worry, everything’s settled after yesterday. The Hall and the market are well controlled now.  Please proceed.”

This is a summons from the crown prince, even if Walsh doesn’t know that, she has to follow her orders. We can’t arrive too early though. I have to get there just in time, so that everything lines up. Turning back to Gisa, I untangle my hand from hers. She leaps forward, making a move to grab me, but Mom holds her back. I give her a little smile in response, hoping to calm her nerves. “I’ll see you soon.” 

Dad’s hand brushes my arm, his own form of goodbye, while Mom’s eyes swim with tears. One of the officers grabs my arm and pulls me toward the door. I look back at the three of them though. The world changes from here too. When they see me again, I won’t be the same. Cal will be with me this time though. We’ll have to come up with something far more convincing than him being from Harbor Bay when we see my family again. We’ll be prepared for that encounter at least.  

The door slams in my face, and I turn forward to watch Walsh descend our ladder. One of the officers pushes me toward it and I follow her to the ground. I’m hustled through the village then, and I know why. Queenstrial awaits, and Walsh does not want to be late. 

I focus on my hands the entire ride in the transport, counting the seconds until I’m trapped in gilded cage with Elara. While Montfort tried to teach us ways to combat whispers, the methods aren’t perfect. Elara was a master of her craft too, I don’t know how much my techniques will help me. My secrets have to remain my own though. She can’t know what is to come. 

We stop at the gate, and after we are let through, I feel Walsh’s eyes on me. She gives me a soft smile. “I’m Ann, by the way, but we mostly go by last names. Call me Walsh.” 

I know. I know more about her than she could ever imagine. She raises a brow at my continued silence. I snap my head when I realize she’s waiting for me to respond. Her name is supposed to ring a bell. Grimacing, I say, “You’re from the Stilts.” 

“I am. I knew your brother Tramy, and I wish I didn’t know Bree. A real heartbreaker that one.” She teases, and I can’t help the smile that those words conjure. A heartbreaker indeed. He had half of the Montfort women eating out of the palm of his hand after living there for only two months. She tilts her head to the side at my expression and muses, “I don’t know you though. But I certainly will.” 

Yes, yes you will. You’ll probably regret it too. 

She waits for another response before raising a brow. “Not the talking type I see. Well, you should know you’ll be working long hours here. I don’t know who hired you or what they told you about the job, but it starts to wear on you. It’s not all changing bedsheets and cleaning plates. You have to look without seeing, hear without listening. We’re objects up there, living statues meant to serve.”

Not for much longer. 

She sighs before opening the door of the transport and helping me out. After wrenching open a door from the wall, she begins to lead me down a flight of stairs. I follow quickly. Queenstrial awaits. Cal is waiting. He told me once that today was both the worst and best day of his life. Worst because he knew it was the day he would never escape Evangeline again, and the best because I managed to ruin everything about Evangeline’s big day. I had pushed a pillow into his face in response, and he’d laughed himself hoarse about it. 

Walsh hurries down the stairs, looking over her shoulder to shout, “Keep up, I don’t have time to hold your hand!” Scrambling to catch her, I descend into a dark tunnel that runs underneath the market and into the Hall of the Sun. She waits for only a moment before saying, “You serve the king now, there’s no time for dilly dallying.” 

 ((((/////////))))

I hurry along a hall of the Spiral Garden, keeping my eyes on the red servant in front of me. He’s much older than me, and I can see it in the way his shoulders slump as he walks. Queenstrial is set to begin, and a bead of sweat runs down my neck when I being to wonder if I’m in the right place. What if I’m not in the right place in line? How long was I in the Samos box for? What if I’m not the servant that goes up to the box I fell out of? Can I stage a fall from the servant’s box? I doubt it. 

By the time I get to the elevated platform the other servants are standing on, I bump my way into line, hoping that I’m in the right place. As I do so, the High Houses enter. I strain to catch sight of them, memories of sitting with Lady Blonos and memorizing their colors bubbling to the surface. Dark blue and red, House Iral. Blue and green, House Osanos. Green and Gold, House Welle. Green and Black, House Viper. Gold and Black, House Provos. I can recall them all from memory. In another year, many of them will be dead. 

I look them all over, and manage to spot Ara Iral, looking beyond bored in her box. But she’s also spying, I know that, cataloging everything away for later. In my distraction, I almost miss my call to the Samos box. I leap to attention, hurrying but trying to make it look like I’m not. I dance between bodies, lighter on my feet than I was even when I was this age. 

I enter the Samos box silently, shifting the curtain aside. From behind, I can see every muscle Ptolemus tries to hide in his fancy shirt. Like Cal, he’s never been able to hide the fact that he would rather be a warrior. My stomach still curls at the sight of him. To think in a few months he will be the reason Clara doesn’t have a father. The sight of Volo makes me queasy. Evangeline told me what fate befell her father in Archeon during the Lakelanders attack, and I wonder if I’ll ever be able to look him in the eye without picturing his face flattened against the deck of a ship. 

I draw my tongue along my lip before saying, “Sir?” He doesn’t even notice me, and a part of me almost laughs. What I wouldn’t give for him to ignore me like this in a few months. Soon, he won’t be able to. He holds out the empty water glass to me, a bored look on his face. “They’re toying with us, Ptolemus.” 

Taking the glass from him, I wait for Ptolemus to finish his. His eyes dance to me in confusion for a moment over his rim before he offers me the glass. I stifle the shake in my hand as I take it, panic coursing through me as he continues to watch my hands. “A demonstration of power, Father.” He says nonetheless as I hurry away to hide my face from him. “They make us wait because they can.” 

I want to spit in his face, or at least make a face in his direction like a child. To think Cal still respects you when you talk about him like a dog you can’t get to heel. Then again, Cal never did hesitate to throw a quip about Ptolemus out. 

I fill their glasses at the sink when the tone sounds, announcing the royal family. I close my eyes and expel a slow exhale. From where I hide in the flowers, I can see the High Houses all rise to their feet. Ptolemus whispers something to Volo, and I wish I was close enough to know what it was. Peeking out from the flowers, I watch as Cal’s father steps onto the balcony. My skin prickles at the sight of him. I can’t begin to imagine what Cal felt the first time he saw him. I know the first time I see Shade I’ll clutch him a hug like never before. I couldn’t imagine Cal doing that with his father, but I’m sure even being near him is making his heart ache. This is a torture neither of us could ever prepare for. Perhaps that’s the dark side of Giselle ability. You could see your happiest moments and the people you haven’t seen in years, only to remember that this has already occurred and you are simply reliving pain. 

From behind him, Elara floats out. I have to clutch the sink to keep from ducking out of sight. She doesn’t know I’m here, she doesn’t even know I exist yet. My plan is going to fail within seconds of seeing her, I know it. My weak little defenses will not withstand her ability. She’ll see everything. She’ll kill Cal, and hang his body up for everyone to see. Weak like his mother, she’ll say. He was sympathetic to the reds, he had to be removed. And it will be my fault. 

“Death to the Scarlet Guard!” rings out from several of the boxes, jarring me from thoughts. I dare a glance to see who is yelling. Haven is the only house I have time to catch before the King shouts back at them. 

“The Scarlet Guard—and all our enemies—are being dealt with!” The crowd silences immediately and my lips curl up in a smile at that. I don’t miss this man, not in the slightest. 

“—today we honor tradition, and no Red devil will impede that. Now is the rite of Queenstrial, to bring forth the most talented daughter to wed the most eligible son.” He continues in his speech, and I crane my neck down the stairs to check on Volo. He hasn’t moved, although he does lean over to whisper something else to Ptolemus. I grip the glass tightly in my hand as I turn the sink on again to hide my breathing. I might be sick right here in this room. If I see him, if I look into those blue eyes will I be able to avoid falling apart?

“Both of my sons honor our most solemn custom,” he waves them forward, and I dare a glance at the back of their heads. Cal’s on the other side of his father. He can’t see me, unless her turns his shoulders and cranes his neck slightly. I squeeze my hand into a fist though as Maven slowly turns, raising his hand in a greeting I know has been perfected by his mother. I slowly set the glasses down and grab the edge of the sink. 

He’s so young, so… clear eyed. He’s not haunted by his demons yet. They’re still alive and standing next to him though. And in that moment, as I look at him, I begin to regret everything. I should have just told Cal that we could do this alone. That we could get to Montfort on our own. We would be at the Rift by now if we had left last night. I should have ignored Jon, I should have said to hell with his meddling, and run. I can’t face Maven again. 

Cal is announced. He turns slowly, smiling and waving politely. When he turns to the Samos box, I can see his eyes searching. When he pauses, and makes eye contact with me, I raise my hand in a small wave. His hand barely twitches. It could be a wave to the Samos family and the others Houses will never know it was for me. He turns forward once more, and I turn the sink off. 

I told him I could do this, I told him that we were in this together. I can’t leave him now. 

In a daze, I leave Volo and Ptolemus their glasses. Even as I climb the stairs, I can’t forget the brief flash of Maven’s eyes. I won’t be able to escape them after this. Inhaling slowly but surely, I return to the servants’ platform. I feel like I can’t breathe. In an hour, I will let myself fall off a platform and into a force field and then, I’ll let myself be betrothed to the man who tried to kill me numerous times. Is this what Cal felt? In the first moment that he had run into Maven, had he felt this rush of emotions? Had his chest felt like it was going to cave in, and his legs were going to fall out from underneath him? 

His father is still shouting, completing the announcement of Queenstrial. I dare another look at him. He’s still smiling, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. As every house claims their right to Queenstrial, his smile wavers a little more until it falls so low that he has to brings his lips back up. Just a little longer, I want to tell him.

When his father turns to Lord Provos to order the arena created, Cal’s eyes dance up to the servants’ box, and catch mine. His shoulders rise and fall in what must be a slow, deliberate exhale. He’s searching for control, or maybe a reprieve. He won’t get one until we find Giselle though. 

Underneath my feet, the platform lurches, and moves. That’s the last look I’ll get until he finds me in that hallway. The hum of electricity underneath my feet tells me the shield has activated, and the fight has only begun. The floor opens and Rohr appears a moment later. She’s even tinier than I remember. She bats her doe like eyes at Cal, and smiles. She’s little more than a child. So was I though. I’m older now though, and I have the wisdom to back it up.

((((/////////))))

It feels like it has been hours. My eyes burn, and my skin crawls until I feel like I’m going to explode like a live wire. Any longer and I might just throw myself over the railing and into the shield to kick start this whole thing. Evangeline was last, but as the parade continues, I softly set my hand on the railing, prepared to throw myself over. 

The minute I think I might actually do that though, the platform at the bottom rises once more, and the sun catches the highlights of platinum blonde hair. My heart beats erratically and a bead of sweat rolls down the back of my neck. Her eyes dart up and around, but her expression is cold. Years ago, I thought that the light in her eyes was malicious. Now I know better. I know that she’s just as disgusted, and irritated with this whole process as everyone else is. Unlike the other girls, she is not seeking out Cal, she is seeking out the crown Elara is wearing. She’s seeking the safety of being queen, where no one will question Elane curling up by her side, and her father won’t be able to order her to do anything. She looks nothing like the woman I remember grabbing coffee with just a few days before I was chasing Giselle down a backstreet. 

I wish she was that woman. That would make things so much easier. 

Her father calls her name and her ability, and a moment later, I’m summoned to a box. My heart hammers in my chest as I pace down thin hallways to answer the call. Once I step into that box, my fate is sealed. I’m going to have to find something deep within myself. Jon had warned me though, had told me to find the strength to get through this. I have to have some faith. Not in him of course, but in myself. I learned that hard lesson at Corros. 

As I gather plates and glasses, I keep my eyes on Evangeline on the screen. She prowls around, searching for something to work with. With a flick of her wrists, and iron studs on her jacket start to move. I can’t help but roll my eyes at the theatrics. And she claims that I’m dramatic. She sets to work destroying the arena while I make my way slowly but surely toward the biggest open space in the box I can find. If she doesn’t tilt the arena, then all of this is for nothing. 

Evangeline never disappoints though. 

The floor shifts underneath me, and I squeeze my hand into a fist at my side. Even though I know I’m going to be just fine in the next few seconds, it doesn’t mean I want to fall thirty feet into a force field. The box tips, and I force an exhale through my teeth. A body slams into me, and I let myself fall. 

It’s a much shorter fall than I remember, so I hit the shield a lot harder than I want. Sparks fly across my skin, and I close my eyes. I feel like a battery getting recharged, and every volt of electricity that burns through me makes me feel whole. The shield wavers underneath me, and I only have a second to push to my knees and spit a curse before it fails completely. I fall the last twenty feet and curl up into a ball as I hit a pile of dust and sand. The blow doesn’t quiet knock the wind out of me, but it still leaves me stunned for a moment. 

Shaking myself out as I try to climb to my feet, I glance up at Evangeline. I’d forgotten the look she’d given me the first time she saw me. The mix of terror, horror, and fear is startling. She never looks at me like that again, not even in the Bowl of Bones when I create a storm from nothing. Above us, the rest of the High Houses gasp and murmur. 

I swallow as I glance around and then back at Evangeline who takes a tiny step back. I don’t have time to say anything this time, because she throws a hail of metal shards at me. I gasp and throw up a net of lightning to catch them. The shards shriek and burst apart a few feet away from me. I release the net and it explodes out, hitting the far wall behind Evangeline. She throws herself to the side to avoid being hit by any stray bolts. 

I hadn’t been that close to hitting her the first time. I grimace, as she whips her head around to look at the hole in the wall before turning her eyes back to me. I would stamp my foot at my stupidity, if Cal’s father didn’t shout for the Sentinels. They bleed out of the shadows in the boxes, and I lick my lips for a moment, tasting the ozone from the shield on my skin. I dare a glance up at Cal who is trying his best to seem surprised by me. Drawing my lips in a tight line, I sprint for the hole in the floor. Just as gun fire explodes behind me, I drop into a slide and go feet first down the hole. 

As soon as I hit the ground of the antechamber below, I start into a dead sprint. The cameras follow me, and every one I pass, I destroy. They explode like fireworks around me and rain sparks into the semidarkness. 

I make it to the mirrored hall and pause for a second to take heaving breaths. My chest burns and my legs already ache. I dont have much time, but I need to start thinking of a plan—gun fire explodes over my head and I drop to a knee and cover my head as pits of the wall cut across my neck. 

Two Sentinels come charging toward me. With a smirk, I charge them. They try to bring their guns up in time, but I drop to my knees and slide between the two of them and throw two well placed bolts of electricity into their hips as I go by. They collapse with a clang of metal, and I scramble to my feet, sprinting once more. At least the hallways are familiar enough to me that I don’t have to stop to think about where I’m going. I only hope that Cal’s memory is as good as mine.

I end up in a hallway, panting and a worried that I’ve taken a wrong turn somewhere. How far away is Cal? Had it been a mistake to knock out the cameras on my way here? Maybe that was how he’d found me last time. 

Footsteps sound from the hall that connects to the one I’m in and spin into a defensive stance, lightning dancing in my hands. Cal comes around the corner though, his entire uniform askew. He catches himself on the wall and I drop my hands immediately. He approaches quickly and his bracelet sparks before a wall of fire encircles us, successfully obscures us from view. 

He reached out for me, and I grab his arm panting, “Don’t have much time, the Sentinels.”

He nods his eyes scanning over my charred uniform. “Elara—”

“I can do this, just don’t knock me out.” I growl as I meet his eyes. There isn’t time for him to play hero or savior right now. He shakes his head quickly and says, “We’ll think of something else.”

“No time. And if you try to dissuade her, she’ll know something is wrong. Let me face her, trust me.” 

He looks like he wants to argue more, but the sound of Sentinels shouting on the other side of the fire makes him whip his head around. I grab his cheek and force his eyes back to me. “Everything will be fine,” I assure him with a little smile. He looks even more uncertain, but his jaw tightens in understanding. I let my legs go limp, forcing him to catch me. Cradling me close to his chest he slowly lowers the wall of fire, whispering, “Be brave. I’ll see you soon.”

I let myself hold onto the image of his face for a second longer than I should, but if I do mess up with Elara, I want to at least remember those as his last words. 

[ythankucaptainmccoy]

Jango Fett x Reader (Plentiful Bounties Chapter 7)

I do not own Star Wars or any characters. Another chapter and I hope you guys like it. Boba is starting to take a liking to the reader, and asks some pretty interesting questions.

------------------ Jango was content with the way things were going you both had been together for months now. Boba had started to really enjoy being around you. He was also enjoying the intimacy of being with you, and the sex was good too. He was going to have to go on another job, but this time he was going to take you and Boba with him. Your relationship with Jango had really taken off, and now you would share kisses openly. Occasionally he would give you a playful slap on your ass.

Your father had gone to visit friends, and had been gone for about a week. Boba was enjoying Mandalore, and the lessons you were giving him with your old blades. He had even made a couple of friends which Jango never thought Boba would be able to make or have friends with the life he led. “So I have a job that I would like you and Boba to go on”, Jango announced. “When are we going?!”, Boba questioned excitedly.

“Well I was hoping we could go here in the next couple of hours”, Jango told him. “Alright I’ll go get ready”, Boba said. “Boba before you go I have something for you”, you told him. “What is it?”, he asked. “Here”, you responded. You grabbed the box and handed it to him as he looked at you confused. “Should I open it here or in my room”, he questioned. “Either it doesn’t matter”, you smiled. He looked to his father who was eyeing you suspiciously, and then nodded to Boba.

He opened it, and his face lit up as he pulled out pieces of Beskar armor and helmet that had been made for him. “I hope it fits. That's why I had the armorer take your measurements the other day”, you explained. “Thank you!”, Boba yelled as he hugged you. He took off with his armor to go put it on. “You shouldn’t spoil him”, Jango told you trying to sound stern. “I can and will”, you sassed. That earned you a swat on your ass, and you jumped as Jango Picked you up to put you on the counter.

He kissed you hungrily, and getting bold brought his hands up from your hips to your breasts. He kneaded your breast as you whimpered into his mouth. He pulled your hair as he started kissing down your neck, but the sound of Boba making his way down the hall made him pull away. Boba stood there standing proudly in his armor, and you noticed Jango tear up a little. You smiled as he showed his father the holster for a blaster, and scabbards for the blades.

“Looks like you're ready for the hunt”, Jango told him. You could tell that he was proud of his son as he smiled. You went to get your gear on, and Jango did too as Boba placed some things into a knapsack for the trip. Once on the ship you let Boba sit in the cockpit with his father. You were sure that this would be a pretty quick bounty, but they were on Kashyyyk, and that was a dangerous planet.

You had napped the whole way until Jango landed the ship. You three made it to one of the Wookie villages, and showed the bounties face to them. They recognized him as the one that had kidnapped several of their kind. Once getting a heading you three took off to find the bounty, and you ended up having to climb up into the tree canopies. The bounty was up ahead and Jango was willing to get this done and over with. He went in first and you kept Boba behind you as you headed in to help him.

You jumped and kicked the bounty in the face as Jango ducked. The fight was fast paced as you and Jango danced around each other taking turns on taking the bounty down. The bounty threw a grenade, and Jango barely missed the blast, but Boba jumped in to block a blow with his blades. Boba did well until he got kicked in the helmet sending him back wards, and sliding towards the edge.

Boba pulled himself back up onto the platform as his father yelled for him to get back. While you had your back turned the bounty shot your jet pack. You knew the whine it let out meant it was going to blow. You pulled it off and covered Boba as the blast hit you throwing you both over the edge. You turned your back to the ground trying to protect Boba, and you could feel your back hitting some of the small branches as it pinged on your armor.

A hard hit to your helmet had you blacking out, and your grip loosened on Boba. Boba could see the water as you had lost your grip on him. His heart was hammering in his chest, but he took a deep breath as he watched you hit the water, and then plunged in himself. The water was murky as he watched you start to sink. He swam to you as he grabbed hold of you trying to pull you up to the surface.

His instincts kicked in and threw his arm up to shoot his cable. It caught and he had it pull you both to the surface. He pulled you mostly out of the water, and pulled your helmet off. You weren’t breathing and he panicked. What was he supposed to do? He wasn’t strong enough to give you CPR, but he didn’t have to worry about that as his father landed next to him. “Back up”, he told him.

Boba moved in reflex as he watched his father give you CPR. It didn’t take long to get you breathing again as you coughed up water. You sat up quickly much to your protesting back, and made sure to lock onto Boba then once noticing he was alright you looked to Jango. “Boba are you alright?”, you questioned frantically looking back to him. “I’m…”, Boba went to say, but was cut off. “What do you think you were doing!?”, Jango boomed. “She needed…”, Boba started, but was cut off a second time.

“It was stupid, and you know better. You could have been hurt or even killed. You almost got (Y/N) killed by being a distraction”, he growled. “Jango”, you tried to gain his attention. “You disobeyed me, and don’t you try to defend his actions!”, Jango yelled turning towards you. “Don’t raise your voice at me. He did what any Mandalorian warrior would do”, you calmly stated. “No he isn’t a warrior! He is a boy, and he needs to learn that there are consequences. When you get back to Slave I you will take that armor, and when we land you will take it back to the armorer!”, he raised his voice at you again.

You stopped knowing that anything you said at this point would only anger Jango more. You knew Boba was crying even with the helmet on, and Jango had you take him back towards Slave I as he took the bounty to the Wookies. When the door closed to Slave I Boba pulled his helmet off and ran into your arms as he cried. “I only wanted to help”, he sobbed. “I know, and you did well. The way you deflected that blow earlier was greatly executed”, you praised trying to get him to stop crying.

You let him cry as you sat down on one of the cots in the cargo hold. You ran your fingers through his hair as he calmed down. “I wish you had been my mom”, he sniffled. “Why is that?”, you asked. “Because you treat me like a mom would”, he replied. He was quiet and that’s when you realized he was asleep. He was still in the armor, and you knew that wouldn’t be comfortable.

Jango had just made it into the ship when he saw you pulling Boba’s armor and boots off. He watched as you covered him up, and kissed his head. Jango melted some at that, but he was still angry about the incident earlier. You looked up as Jango walked past you, and the anger behind his gaze was still smoldering. You gave him a glare right back, and he huffed as he made his way to the cockpit.

Half way back home Boba woke up, and you were there laying on another cot. “(Y/N) is my buir still mad at us?”, he questioned. “I’m not sure Boba”, you sighed. “Do you think my Buir would marry you?”, he interrogated. You were completely caught off guard as you responded, “Well I...I don’t know. why?”, you urged. “Well if he did you would be my mom, and maybe he would be able to get me a baby brother or sister”, Boba answered. “Boba how do you think you would get a baby brother or sister?”, you asked flustered.

“I don’t know. The same way I was made I guess”, he mumbled. You coughed to cover up your red face as you imagined the way Jango would get you pregnant. Images of you heavily pregnant as Jango ran his hand over your swollen belly, and chuckling when the baby kicked. You came back to yourself when Slave I landed, and you absentmindedly put your hand over your belly. You chuckled as Boba grabbed his armor and handed it to you.

Jango didn’t say a word as you three made your way back to the house. You watched as Boba went to his room closing the door. Jango turned to watch you as you grabbed cooking utensils. “You should go, and let him know you're not mad”, you announced. “I am mad”, he huffed. “No you're not mad at him. You're mad at me and yourself for giving him the armor and letting him come along”, you told him.

You turned the heat on, and put a pan down to start cooking. When you turned around he was right in front of you, and he pulled you into him to kiss you. The kiss was angry and rushed as he pulled at your shirt. “Jango… I’m trying to...COOK!”, you squeaked as he groped your breast, and licked up your neck. “You know I saw those images. Did you project them on purpose hmm?”, he quizzed.

“What”, you moaned. “The images of how I would get you pregnant, and how you would look if I did. Force users always giving you glimpses of what could be. Is that what you want. For me to fuck a baby into you”, he growled nipping at your throat. “Jango let me cook”, you whimpered, definitely not wanting him to stop. He did and slowly let himself calm down as you tried to focus on cooking. “This isn’t over”, he grunted as he made his way to Boba’s room to talk. Boba’s door opened and you could hear Boba giggling, and when they came around the corner Boba sitting on his father's shoulders.

You watched as he pulled him off, and tossed him on a couch to tickle him. ‘He would make such a fine husband, and future father if you decided to have children’, your father's voice rang through your thoughts. You remembered him telling you that as you described how you felt about Jango. You smiled as you remembered getting so flustered as your father also told you that it would be just like her mother and him when they got married. You shook your head as you continued cooking.

You thought about how Jango reacted to the thought of him getting you pregnant, and you understood that he was somewhat angry, but the way he had dirty talked about fucking a baby into you had your pussy growing wet. Why was this affecting you so much were your hormones deciding to mess with you or was it just the thought of the act of sex. You let your mind wander and it drifted into Jango’s mind as he now sat on the couch watching you cook.

Every once in a while he would glance over in your direction, and you would blush and look away. Dinner was finished and as you all ate Boba looked straight at his father to ask a question. “Dad how come I can’t have a brother or sister?”, he asked. You choked a little on your food as Jango stiffened in his seat. “Because I only wanted one of you. Could you imagine how much trouble it would be to chase two of you around”, Jango chuckled.

You could imagine it right now actually and woah where were these thoughts coming from. The dinner table got quiet again as Jango looked at you noticing the red flush in your cheeks. “You okay (Y/N). You look flushed”, Jango grinned. “Yes, I’m fine”, you grumbled. Dinner went quickly and Boba took his sanisteam before bed and Jango tucked him in. You must be hormonal because your skin felt hot, and your pussy was soaked. Just a look from Jango had you biting your lip.

When Jango entered the room and closed the door you pounced pushing him against the door. You clawed at his shirt and he was almost dumbfounded as you pulled his shirt off him, and kissed him feverishly. He was shocked to say the least as you sucked and bit at his neck. You tore your shirt off your body then your bra, and went back in to bite and suck marks down his chest. You pulled his pants and underpants all the way down and took him in your mouth.

“Ah (Y/N) KRIFF! Easy cya’re”, he told you. You pulled off him with a pop as you realized that was the first time he had ever used that mando'a endearment. He reached his hand down to cup your face, but you pulled away and took him back in your mouth. He almost doubled over as you kept going. He was close, but right before he went over you stopped, and he growled at you when you pulled away. You stood and shed your pants and panties to crawl onto the bed. “Jango please I need you”, you whined as Jango climbed onto the bed behind you. He was starting to feel hot same as you, but this wasn’t a normal heat from sex and then he realized you both must have brushed against a plant.

“(Y/N) we need to stop. I think the reason we feel like this is because of a plant we brushed past on Kashyyyk”, he groaned as you ground back into him. He was starting to go hazy, but he mustered the strength and will power to get you in the sanisteam. Immediately after you showered you had cooled down, but you were still horny. Jango couldn’t take anymore of your teasing as he bent you forward and took you from behind. You moaned loudly as he thrusts into you without slowing. He reached down to rub your clit, and you came with a wailing cry as he pushed into you to fill you.

Jango was still hard as he started up another rhythm, and you pushed back into his thrusts. It felt like your insides were melting as he hit every spot. The plant must have had aphrodisiac properties, and oh fuck he was hitting a spot that had you cumming again. He filled you as he grunted out your name. He pulled out of you to pick you up and pushed your back against the shower wall. He entered you again still hard, and usually he would need time to come back from his high.

You both came five times in the shower, and he wasn’t slowing. You both dried off and he carried you to the bed where he dropped you and climbed over top of you. He looked down as he took you again placing a hand over your lower belly. He slowed for a moment and looked up to you as if trying to clear his head. His skin still felt like it was on fire, and you still wanted him to keep fucking you. “Maybe I should take your father's advice. Marry you and have a couple of kids”, he told you.

That sobered you up some, but you and Jango had grown close. “You could be a mother to Boba. He asks why I haven’t married you yet”, he told you snapping his hips into you. “If I asked you to marry me would you”, he panted. You thought about it as he started thrusting into you again. “Yes I would”, you cried as he hit that spot. He had you cumming twice within minutes and he filled you both times. The effects of whatever it was didn’t wear off until late into the night.

You both collapsed after many rounds of sex, and when you woke up he was holding you to him, and you noticed he was still inside you. Then the events of last night hit you and what Jango had asked you. You let him slip out of you as you showered again, and got dressed to make breakfast. You had said yes to marrying Jango, and would he remember it. You had been together for months now, and you didn’t know why but it felt right. You weren’t under the influence of anything anymore, and if Jango remembered last night you made up your mind you would marry the man.

Jango woke to find you gone, and he was a mess so he jumped into the shower. Then the events of last night hit him. He had asked you to marry him, and he stopped breathing when he remembered you had said yes. Once he was dressed he made his way to the kitchen to find you in his shirt and when you turned around he was only wearing pants. You could see the marks you left on him, and blushed as he made his way over to you. He pulled you to him and kissed you.

“Do you remember last night”, he hummed, smiling. “Yes”, you replied. “So you remember what I asked”, he said. “I do”, you responded. “Will you marry me (Y/N)?”, he questioned. You smiled up at him, “Yes Jango I will”. He pulled you in for a kiss when you heard clapping. You both pulled apart to see your father standing in the doorway. “It’s about karking time”, he said. He congratulated you both then went to his room to unpack. Boba sauntered in as you and Jango both made breakfast.

“Boba I have a serious question for you and you have to answer honestly”, Jango told his son. “Okay what is it?”, Boba questioned. “Would you like to have a mother?”, Jango smirked. “Yeah”, Boba said, looking at you. “Well you're in luck because I asked (Y/N) to marry me last night, and she said yes”, Jango finished. “You mean that (Y/N) is going to be my mom!”, he exclaimed. You both nodded and he ran to your side and hugged you, then he hugged his father.

Boba waited patiently for his breakfast beaming about the news, and your father joined him at the table. “We need to start planning a wedding”, your father told you. “Nothing fancy, just simple, and traditional Mandoan wedding”, you explained. Jango chuckled at you as you gave him a look. Silence enveloped the table as you all ate, and out of the blue the question arose. “So does this mean I’m getting a brother or sister?”, Boba questioned. You turned absolutely red as your father looked at you then Jango almost shocked. “Not yet son, but maybe later”, Jango said, not wanting to make eye contact with your father as he remembered last night.

[eachainn]

If You Fall, I Will Catch You (Wangxian Week Day 7: Passion)

Author’s Note: Title take from Time After Time by Cyndi Lauper

---

Lan Wangji tightened his hold on the book as he felt it start to slip, not daring to look away from Wei Wuxian. Looking away would be like admitting defeat, or something more dangerous. He clenched his jaw, leaning forward slightly.

All that earned him was a short laugh and a flash of a sun-bright smile, both of them more than enough to make him waver. Lan Wangji swallowed, blindly grasping at his resolve. It would be easier to let Wei Wuxian leave with his book of porn, all he’d have to deal with was the teasing and the laughter for a few days until Wei Wuxian moved onto the next thing. The problem was how far it would spread before then. The problem was that there were rules to be abided by with no exceptions.

Lan Wangji narrowed his eyes, looking over Wei Wuxian. He had hoped to be able to snatch it away, or blow it away before Wei Wuxian could get his hands on it. That hadn’t worked, but it had been a foregone hope. He’d seen Wei Wuxian in combat and practice, he was quick and twisting, finding gaps and wiggling through them. He was like that with all of Lan Wangji’s plans. Every counter would fall short, because Wei Wuxian would already be away to the next thing, leaving him stumbling behind.

He breathed out sharply as Wei Wuxian leaned in, tempted to jerk back, but that would mean giving up the ground that he had gained. He compromised but lifting his chin slightly, feeling that it was a wrong move when Wei Wuxian’s grin just widened. “Oh, so you do want it, Lan Zhan? I’m surprised.”

“No.” He grit the word out, his stomach twisting as Wei Wuxian threw back his head and laughed.

It should have been another failing, another time to restructure, but he couldn’t feel that way. Wei Wuxian laughing was not a rare thing, but the sound made his heart pound faster every time. Lan Wangji fought the urge to lean closer, straightening his spine instead. This was temptation, and he had to resist, with what little of that he had left to him.

He tightened his hold on the book, feeling it start to give. Lan Wangji didn’t dare to look at the book, that would mean looking away and that would mean losing.

No matter what he came up with, Wei Wuxian wiggled through his plans like a fish around a net. The flash of his grey eyes and bright smile were likes scales.

Lan Wangji stared at Wei Wuxian, trying to ignoring the pounding of his heart. A cultivator had to be ready for anything, able to adjust and to ignore injury long enough to get to a place of safety. This was one of those times, except Wei Wuxian wasn’t a corpse or a ghost. Those operated by rules, and Wei Wuxian did not. He just leapt from the most shocking thing to the next. But that in itself was clear, he just needed to move there faster than Wei Wuxian.

He shifted slightly, watching as Wei Wuxian moved closer. His fingers twitched back at Wei Wuxian’s inched forward again, sure that he imagined the slight brush of their fingers. He spared a moment to look at them, just to be sure, but his attention was jerked back when Wei Wuxian spoke again. “Lan Zhan~”

Lan Wangji didn’t know what possessed him. The thought was barely formed, a guess at Wei Wuxian’s next move. Or maybe it was his resolve snapping. It happened too fast for him to decide or think too hard on it. Years of instincts just had him moving before the thought was complete, reaching out across the table with his free hand and fisting it in Wei Wuxian’s robes.

Wei Wuxian looked down at shock, Lan Wangji only distantly hearing him start to say something. He was hauling Wei Wuxian forward to taste his own name on Wei Wuxian’s lips and devour it.

He heard Wei Wuxian squeak, but Lan Wangji swallowed that too, tugging Wei Wuxian a little bit closer. The pull jarred their teeth together, Lan Wangji turning his head to try and make it better. Pressing their lips together was all well and good, but once he had that he wanted more, He swiped his tongue across Wei Wuxian’s lips, surprised when they parted. He heard Wei Wuxian inhale sharply, something that usually came before another verbal feint, but he wasn’t going to allow that.

For now, in this single moment, he was winning.

For now, in this moment, Lan Wangji didn’t care.

He rocked forward onto his knees, hauling Wei Wuxian closer in the same motion. Wei Wuxian was practically pulled onto the table with the move. He would have been if he hadn’t slammed his free hand on the table to brace himself against it. Lan Wangji made an annoyed sound into Wei Wuxian’s mouth. He wanted Wei Wuxian closer, on his side of the table.

Lan Wangji tugged again, surprised when Wei Wuxian moved. The motion broke the kiss, Lan Wangji only then aware that he was panting for breath. But that was secondary. Wei Wuxian was still close, one knee and hand braced on the table. He hadn’t made a move to push back or push forward, remaining right where he was, which was very close, closer than Lan Wangji usually let people get.

It wasn’t close enough.

His fingers tightened where they were gripping onto the front of Wei Wuxian’s robes. Lan Wangji sucked in a deep breath, feeling his heart pounding wildly. It felt like he couldn’t take a full breath, but he couldn’t stop, not when Wei Wuxian was looking at him with wide eyes. All of Wei Wuxian’s focus was on him, and it was intoxicating. He wanted to stay like that forever.

Wei Wuxian swayed forward, Lan Wangji finding himself copying the move. He wasn’t sure if it was indecisive, he wasn’t even sure if he was reading Wei Wuxian right. His gaze kept dropping to Wei Wuxian’s lips. He shuddered when Wei Wuxian licked them, torn between nipping at those lips and chasing after another kiss. He made a soft sound, the noise transforming when his pulled his gaze up to Wei Wuxian’s eyes. “Wei Ying.”

Wei Wuxian leaned forward at that, the hand that he had on the table coming up to grip Lan Wangji’s shoulder. It pitched his weight forward, Lan Wangji letting go of Wei Wuxian’s robes to wrap an arm around his back. He moved to shift upward, meeting Wei Wuxian in another kiss as he went to brace the other boy’s weight.

One hand wasn’t going to be enough to hold him. It was barely enough. He let go of whatever was in his left hand, shifting to tuck it around Wei Wuxian’s waist to pull him forward. Off the table would be enough.

Into his lap would be better.

One of Wei Wuxian hands grabbed his shoulder just before there was a dull thump. Lan Wangji was more than willing to ignore it. He had more important things to worry about, like how the soft tilt of his head gave him more room to maneuver and lick into Wei Wuxian’s mouth, which was yielding faster this time.

He tugged at Wei Wuxian’s waist, jerking him forward across the table even as his other hand reached up to grab at Wei Wuxian’s ponytail. He must have done something right, because Wei Wuxian moaned, the sound startlingly loud in the silence.

The sound made the warm curl in his stomach burst into something more akin to a bonfire, Lan Wangji wanting more. The more was not specific, but it involved Wei Wuxian, which was all that mattered.

He leaned in to kiss him deeper, but Wei Wuxian was moving back. Lan Wangji friend to follow, but he was surprised when Wei Wuxian grabbed his shoulders and shoved him away.

Lan Wangji fell backwards, having to let go of Wei Wuxian to catch himself. He breathed in a sharp breath, looking up at Wei Wuxian. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but wide-eyed panic was not it.

He pushed himself up, watching as Wei Wuxian’s gaze darted to the side before Wei Wuxian was in motion.

He snatched up the torn erotica book and his sword before turning and running out of the library before Lan Wangji could move. Lan Wangji was left with the sound of Wei Wuxian’s footsteps and the lingering traces of warmth still on his palms. Lan Wangji closed his hands slightly, trying to hold onto that even as Wei Wuxian disappeared from his line of sight. It wouldn’t last long, he knew that, but it was something when Wei Wuxian was running away.

Lan Wangji supposed that it was a victory of sorts, because he was the one who had gotten Wei Wuxian to retreat instead of the other way around. But it was a hollow victory, because he had wanted Wei Wuxian to stay. There was no chance of that now, his month of copying was up and Lan Wangji had given him all the more reason to avoid him.

He sighed, feeling himself shake with it. Lan Wangji dropped his head, closing his eyes.

His actions had not solved anything.

They had just made him ache more.

---

By some miracle, there was not a Lan to accost him between the library and the slowest part of one of the many steams that burbled through the Cloud Recesses. Wei Wuxian fully expected to hear the familiar call of “No running in the Cloud Recesses!” but there was no one. Wei Wuxian was glad, because he sure that he wouldn’t have been able to stop, not when he would start at the sight of white robes.

He stumbled to a stop at the edge of the pond, staring into the water. There was some part of him that was shocked at the sight of himself, like he expected something to be altered. Wei Wuxian shifted, jumping when something ghosted over the back of his neck. He reached back to slap at it, huffing when he felt strands of hair in his fingers. He played with them for a moment before drawing the end of his ponytail over his shoulder.

For a moment, he had thought that they were fingers.

He swallowed, Wei Wuxian shifting in place before he threw his sword and the book to one side before turning around. He flopped back onto the fallen log, reaching down to secure himself against it. For a moment, he wanted to kick himself off the ground just to get further up, but he needed to feel grounded. He needed the earth beneath his feet and the sound of the water moving. Wei Wuxian closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

Most of the water in the Cloud Recesses were burbling streams or rumbling waterfalls. It was a sympathy of noise, perfect against the backdrop of the mountains. Wei Wuxian was sure that things were maintained that way to keep the fengshui of the place. He could appreciate that, but he preferred this section. It reminded him of the Lotus Pier, where the water was slow, lazy, and flowed through their homes.

Wei Wuxian opened his eyes, rolling to the side to reach down and drag his finger through the water. He watched the ripples move outward as he moved his finger, Wei Wuxian groaned a flicked his fingers against the surface before rolling onto his back. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. It seemed like the thing to do, although it didn’t seem like enough. Nothing seemed suitable after just running away.

He pressed his fingers to his lips, shivering at the lingering tingle there. He wasn’t sure if he was imagining it or not, just like he wasn’t sure if he could really still feel Lan Wangji’s hands on the back of his neck and his lower back.

Wei Wuxian arched slightly, like he was giving the phantom hands room before he remembered himself. He slumped back against the tree, letting his hand fall away from his lips. He laughed, the sound quiet and directed at himself.

He had expected the anger, the whole point of the porn was to push Lan Wangji to see how he would react. He had expected the anger and for Lan Wangji to try and snatch the book away. After all, no promiscuity was one of the Lan sect’s rules.

He hadn’t expected the first kiss, or the second.

Wei Wuxian licked his lips, not sure what he was doing until he was reaching up to touch his lips again. He hissed and jerked his hand down, pressing it against his stomach and grabbing at the cloth there.

That had been his first kiss, the one he had been jealously guarding. Perhaps not as jealously as shijie, but he had a vision. It had always been a girl, not a man. No matter how handsome a man, he just wasn’t interested. It was girls with their gentle smiles, high pitched voices and gentle curves that had caught his attention. Lan Wangji was none of those things with his broad shoulders, rough hands and deep voice. There was nothing delicate about him. The most Wei Wuxian would give him was handsome, not at all what he wanted to give his first kiss to.

And yet he had. He had done it twice.

Wei Wuxian draped his other arm over his face with a groan. He couldn’t remember what he had been thinking, just that he had come back to himself on the table ready to drop to the other side.

He groaned again, trying to swallow back the sound when he heard the sound of someone approaching. He sat up quickly, half expecting for Lan Wangji to be coming to find him. He had run away after all, and there was bound to be a rule that he had broken in the library.

Wei Wuxian was just starting to back up the fallen tree when he recognized the two approaching him. He sighed in relief at the sight of Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng approaching. They were a far better option. The best as far as he was concerned.

He pushed himself off the fallen tree, bouncing a bit on the balls of his feet as soon as he was upright. That seemed enough to reassure Nie Huaisang, the frantic motion of his fan slowing.

Jiang Cheng was a different story. Wei Wuxian felt his brother’s gaze linger on him for a moment, turning his head in time to catch the way that Jiang Cheng’s frown deepened. That was something to take care of, but later.

He bounded over to them, greeting Nie Huaisang’s small, cautious smile with a broader one of his own. That seemed to be enough because Nie Huaisang snapped his fan shut. “What happened?”

Wei Wuxian laughed, looping his arm around Nie Huaisang’s shoulder, pulling the boy close. Nei Huaisang startled like a deer before settling in close, Wei Wuxian sucking in a quick breath at the press of a body against his. It wasn’t Lan Wangji, Nie Huaisang was smaller, maybe more like a girl if he ignored the sharp angles. But he was there by his side and everyone would notice if he just shoved Nie Huaisang away.

He compromised by nudging Nie Huaisang forward and away from him, trying to keep his voice steady as they brushed against each other. “You should have been there.”

“We would have.” Nie Huaisang sighed, opening his fan again. “Senior Lan surprised us with a test.”

“Ah. Then I was lucky.”

“You were spared.”

Wei Wuxian shrugged, letting his arm slide away from Nie Huaisang so he could distance himself. He stepped forward to scoop up the book of erotic art, giving it a gentle shake to settle the pages.

He winced when he saw the large tear that ran across it. He ran a finger over the ragged edge before turning around to hand the book back to Nie Huaisang. “Sorry, things got rough.”

Wei Wuxian swallowed hard after the words slipped out, struggling to come up with something at the memory of a strong arm around his waist. His hand shook, but he was sure that Nie Huaisang didn’t notice. He was too busy playing with the rough edges before opening the book.

Nie Huaisang chuckled to himself, flipping through a few pages before tucking the book away. “It was worth it. Although I wish I could have seen it.”

He just barely kept himself from jumping. Wei Wuxian was very much sure that Nie Huaisang would not have wanted to witness what had happened. Wei Wuxian was glad that no one had been there to witness his humiliation.

He rolled his shoulder, preferring to laugh, even if it was just a short bark. “Oh, Lan Wangji was so startled. He dropped it like it bit him. Then he was all angry and going on about it being obscene.”

Nie Huaisang laughed, tapping his fan against his lips. His gaze flicked over to Wei Wuxian, the glance almost sly. Or coy.

Wei Wuxian didn’t have the time to process the thought. Nie Huaison flicked his fan around his hand, using it to prod at his arm. “What happened next?”

Wei Wuxian felt the back of his neck flush, sure he felt the ghosting of fingers against the back of his neck before they curled in. A shiver crawled down his spine.

He cleared his throat, flashing Nie Huaisang a smile. “What you do think?” He schooled his face to his best imitation of Lan Wangji’s face. “Scram!”

Nie Huaisang gasped before bursting into laughter. He stumbled backward, clutching the torn book to his chest. “Scram?!” His voice pitched up before he leaned forward to gasp for breath in between his words. “S-scram?! He…actually…s-said that? Oh, now I wish that I was there.”

“Maybe next time.”

Nie Huaisang made a noncommittal noise, his fan snapping open again. He fanned himself lazily for a moment before shrugging. He looked down before raising the book in a partially salute. “Until then, I’ll treasure this as a memoir of success.”

Nie Huaisang turned and walked off, already flipping through the erotica. Wei Wuxian heard him chuckle to himself as he went, probably at the thought of Lan Wangji getting so worked up that he shouted at someone to scram. It was a pretty unbelievable thing, but not impossible. Wei Wuxian almost found himself jealous, he wished that he was able to imagine such a thing.

He shook his head, reaching back to rub at his neck, feeling like he was chasing away that touch. He curled his fingers, shivering slightly. Lan Wanji hadn’t done that,

He wished he had.

Wei Wuxian swallowed, letting his hand drop away slowly. He gave himself the time until it had fallen to his side before shaking his head. It had happened, and he wouldn’t think about it again. It was too strange to linger over.

He turned on his heel, pausing when he saw Jiang Cheng glaring at him. That in itself wasn’t new. Wei Wuxian usually knew what he was being glared at for.

Wei Wuxian tipped his head to the side. “Jiang Cheng? Did the test fry your brain?”

That got him to start, Jiang Cheng snorting and shaking his head. Wei Wuxian was more than happy to leave it at that, but when he started to walk back to where he had dropped Suibian. Jiang Cheng’s glare didn’t stop. Wei Wuxian hesitated for a moment before throwing a look over his shoulder. “If you keep that up, your face will get stuck like that, and then who will like you? You’ll even make shijie cry.”

He expected Jiang Cheng to laugh or to insult him back. Instead, Jiang Cheng just crossed his arms over his chest and glared harder at him. “What happened?”

“I told you.” Wei Wuxian tied Suibian into place, nudging at the sword until it hung comfortably. “I annoyed Lan Wangji until he yelled at me to get out.”

“You’re lying.”

“Jiang Cheng!” Wei Wuxian pressed a hand over his heart. “I’m hurt that you wouldn’t believe me.”

“I’m hurt that you think you can lie so obviously and expect me to go along with it.” The corner of Jiang Cheng’s mouth twitched up, and he didn’t try school his face into something more serious again. He sighed, shaking his head. “Now, are you going to tell me? Or will I have to get A-jie here to get the truth from you?”

“Unfair.” Wei Wuxian stuck his tongue out at him, relieved by the bark of laughter that he heard. He grinned back at Jiang Cheng, sidling close to him. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell another outrageous story, and keep it up until Jiang Cheng gave up. It had worked well enough before. But then, over Jiang Cheng’s shoulder, he saw white robes.

It wasn’t Lan Wangji, he knew that much, two of them didn’t look at all alike. But the sight of it was enough to have the truth tripping off of his lips.

“Lan Wangji didn’t chase me out.”

“A miracle, really.”

“He kissed me. Twice.” Wei Wuxian kept his gaze on the Lan disciple as they moved by, waiting until they were out of sight to look over at Jiang Cheng.

He had expected the shock, and the rage, but not for Jiang Cheng to grab his arm and pull him close. “He did what?”

There was a warning growl to his voice, one that made Wei Wuxian reach out to pat at his hand to calm him down and shove him away. “What I said. I’m not repeating it.”

“I’ll kill him.”

Wei Wuxian tensed, shooting Jiang Cheng a surprised look. “What, to defend my honor?”

“Yes.”

Wei Wuxian laughed and wiggled out of Jiang Cheng’s hold. “You mean you would try.”

That finally broke through Jiang Cheng’s anger. He blinked at him before sighing and shaking his head. “I would try, but-”

“I don’t need anyone to defend my honor. I can manage it myself.”

“I’d like to see that.”

Wei Wuxian reached out to shove Jiang Cheng, ducking around the halfhearted punch that was thrown his away. Wei Wuxian grinned back at his brother, reaching back to flick his hair over his shoulder. “I’m not a delicate maiden. I can handle myself.”

“You say that, and then you get kissed by Lan Wangji. And what did you do? Faint in his arms.”

Wei Wuxian shrugged, preferring that than for Jiang Cheng to catch him again. He didn’t think that he would be able to wiggle out of it if it was known that he had kissed back. He was sure that Jiang Cheng wouldn’t understand that it had been an accident. He had panicked and that was the reason. The only reason.

He stumbled a bit when Jiang Cheng bumped into him, Wei Wuxian glancing over his shoulder in time to catch Jiang Cheng’s smile. He reached out to shove him back, but Jiang Cheng grabbed his arm and started dragging him along. “Come on, shijie. Let’s get you inside before another disciple tries to kiss you. Then I’ll be copying in the library for a month.”

“I’d have to save you from Lan Wangji then.”

“No. I think you’re the only one he’d try that with.”

Wei Wuxian laughed, not caring that it was loud as Jiang Cheng pulled him back to the main hub of the Cloud Recesses.

---

If there was one thing that Jiang Cheng had learned, it was that the things that were not said were just as important as what was said.

His father would never say that he was unwanted, but it was there in the silences and quick glances, the ones that were just as loud as his mother’s sharp lectures. His sister was like that to, before she spoke there was a moment where he could judge her true reaction before she caught herself and adjusted.

Wei Wuxian was like that too, even if he was constantly talking. It was in the misdirection and the rate of talking. Wei Wuxian filled silences for the same reason that Jiang Cheng was willing to let them stand, they were both afraid of what would happen otherwise.

This was not as dire. This was just Wei Wuxian keeping something to himself. Usually Jiang Cheng would let it go, but what had started the misdirection was something that nagged at him.

“Lan Wangji didn’t chase me out. He kissed me. Twice.”

Jiang Cheng took a deep breath, shooting a quick glance over at where Lan Wangji was sitting. He was closer than usual, because Jiang Cheng had pointedly put himself between Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji. He couldn’t tell if Lan Wangji had been disappointed or surprised, he seemed to take it with the same bland expression that he took everything. What was more suspicious was that Wei Wuxian didn’t argue.

He took a risk and looked over at Wei Wuxian, not too surprised to see him focusing. If anything, he was probably plotting what trouble he would get into next, but that would come later, maybe far later considering the consequences. If that was the case, Jiang Cheng might actually have to thank Lan Wangji for what he had done, because it meant one less thing to try and drag Wei Wuxian away from. One less thing to add to Wei Wuxian’s letters to A-jie.

Although he was sure that he was going to leave out this incident. He wasn’t sure how A-jie would react.

She would probably storm up to the Cloud Recesses to demand an explanation from Lan Wangji.

Jiang Cheng bit his lip to keep from laughing at the idea, quick to take control of himself when he felt Wei Wuxian look at him sharply. He shook his head slightly, hoping that Wei Wuxian would take that for an answer instead of bothering him through the rest of the class. Lan Qiren might be droning on about the connections between two clans long extinct, but Jiang Cheng was sure that he would make them test on it.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Wei Wuxian move, Jiang Cheng turning his attention completely to him. It was too soon for him to earn Lan Qiren’s ire again. He was prepared to pinch Wei Wuxian to shut him up, or do something to keep his mind on task, but it didn’t look like it was needed.

Wei Wuxian obviously wasn’t paying attention to the lecture; his attention was firmly fixed on Lan Wangji.

Jiang Cheng narrowed his eyes, tempted to elbow him to get his attention back, but the timing made him pause.

Wei Wuxian wasn’t telling him the whole truth, that much was obvious with his endless chatter. This was the time to figure out what Wei Wuxian was trying to ward away in that silence.

Lan Wangji had kissed him, Jiang Cheng was sure that it was not a lie. It was too far out there, even for Wei Wuxian.

Just a kissing wouldn’t make Wei Wuxian look like this, wide eyed and his mouth slightly open. If Jiang Cheng didn’t know him better, he would have thought it was the start of fear. But it wasn’t, it was something more like surprise, or shock.

Jiang Chang narrowed his eyes before looking over at Lan Wangji, surprised to see that he was looking as well. Lan Wangji never looked away in class, not totally. Anything that Lan Qiren didn’t call his attention to was dealt with in quick glances or ignored completely. But, somehow, Wei Wuxian had Lan Wangji’s full attention. It was a fixed and full stare, something that would have sent anyone else running.

It was the kind of stare he had seen as a child, when some of the older disciples would stare at the girls as they had gone to and from training. He hadn’t understood it then, but he had been little.

It was the, very muted, look of a desperate man.

Jiang Cheng took a deep breath, shifting to impose himself into Lan Wangji’s line of sight. Wei Wuxian was not a blushing maiden, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t look after him. Wei Wuxian was the kind of person to dive headfirst into trouble. Jiang Cheng might not have been able to stop the many other times, but this he could bring to a screeching halt.

He saw the moment that Lan Wangji noticed him, watching as the man sucked in a quick breath. Lan Wangji quickly turned his attention away, his head ducked.

Jiang Cheng sat back, surprised by how quickly Lan Wangji had given in. He had expected something more, or even a steady stare for daring to ignore the lesson. He tipped his head slightly, sure that he saw a little bit of red on Lan Wangji’s ears, but that was probably going too far.

He shifted in place, checking with Lan Qiren to see if his distraction had been noticed. The man was still talking, pacing over to where Jin Zixuan was sitting, probably to check if he were still paying attention. He would be back soon enough, but that would give him the time to check back with Wei Wuxian.

Jiang Cheng shot one last look at Lan Wangji before checking back with his brother, surprised to see Wei Wuxian still staring. He narrowed his eyes at the blush he could see growing on the back of Wei Wuxian’s neck.

He sucked in a quick breath, glaring at Wei Wuxian as he tore his gaze away from Lan Wangji.

Wei Wuxian’s eyes widened and he ducked his head and making himself look busy. Jiang Cheng stared at him, watching as Wei Wuxian worked hard to look like he wasn’t doing anything while glancing up at him and back over at Lan Wangji. It was not the behavior of someone wanting to forget or having forgotten what had happened. It almost looked interested.

He hummed in the back of his throat, looking over Wei Wuxian before reaching down to slap his leg. It made Wei Wuxian start, but it at least got him focused on his work. It was something at least.

That solved one problem and left a bigger one. Jiang Cheng scooted closer to Wei Wuxian, giving Lan Wangji one last warning glance. He doubted that Lan Wangji saw it. Still, it settled him. He would have to keep watch on Lan Wangji, at least for a while. He trusted Lan Wangji to come to his senses soon enough. Wei Wuxian was a different story. Apparently, his previous horror wasn’t enough to keep him from looking.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Wei Wuxian start to look up again. Jiang Cheng glanced quickly at where Lan Qiren was hovering over Nie Huaisang as he lectured, the boy hunching a bit further forward with every word. That meant that they were safe for now, safe enough for Jiang Cheng to lean over and hiss to Wei Wuxian, “Don’t make me do it, A-jie would cry.”

Wei Wuxian stared at him with wide eyes before giving him a curt nod. Jiang Cheng watched Wei Wuxian square his shoulders and focused on the lecture again. Jiang Cheng was sure that he would have to remind Wei Wuxian to stop staring again, but it was enough for the moment. It would give him a chance to actually listen to what Lan Qiren was saying.

Except that he could already see Wei Wuxian’s gaze straying to the other side of the room, the slightly wide-eyed look coming back as he looked at some of the other disciples.

Jiang Cheng barely kept himself from groaning out loud. Still, it wasn’t Lan Wangji, so that had to count for something. It was all he could deal with when he was supposed to be paying attention. He would have to pick his battles. He shrugged and focused back on the unending drone of names, intending to work on memorizing them when he felt the steady weight of a gaze on him.

It made a shiver run down his spine, Jiang Cheng reaching for his sword out of habit. There was nothing to threaten him here, but the thought didn’t help his unease.

He swallowed and glanced over his shoulder, almost not surprised to see Lan Wangji looking again. His expression was as bland as ever, but somehow the intent had changed. It wasn’t directed at him, something that was a relief, but only for a moment. Because that heavy gaze was directed at Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng couldn’t understand how Wei Wuxian couldn’t feel it. Knowing him, Wei Wuxian was caught up in whatever was going on in his head, Jiang Cheng sighed and scooted closer, not even sure that Lan Wangji noticed. At least the gaze had moved from him to the unfortunate soul who had caught Wei Wuxian’s attention. He would take that and hope that this would blow over soon, whatever this was.

---

“You seem pleased that the two of them came with us.”

The comment came from nowhere, out of a long moment of silence watching the rest of the disciples that Lan Xichen had brought with him finishing up preparations.

Lan Wangji startled slightly before looking over at his brother. Lan Xichen hadn’t looked away from the preparations, he was still watching them carefully. It made sense considering what they had come to Caiyi Town to do, to take care of the water ghouls. It had nothing to do with the two disciples from the Jiang sect, save for the fact that he was looking over at Wei Wuxian often, more often than he would have liked.

Lan Wangji just stopped himself from glancing over at Wei Wuxian again, because nothing would have changed. He would still be leaning against the pole of his boat and flirting with the girls who sold food up and down the canals of Caiyi Town. He curled his fingers into a first, holding it there before letting them go loose. He shouldn’t have been surprised, but that didn’t stop the painful ache somewhere behind his ribs.

“Wangji?”

He blinked and looked back at his brother, noticing his concerned look. Lan Wangji sighed and shook his head. “It is nothing.”

“Nothing?” Lan Xichen tipped his head to the side, Lan Wangji fighting hard not to look with him as Lan Xichen looked over at where Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian were waiting. He took a deep breath, waiting for Lan Xichen to finish his study, relieved when his brother did so. It would have been better if the knowing look disappeared as well.

Lan Xichen had always known how to read him, which was alternately welcoming and annoying. Lan Wangji wasn’t sure which one it was now. He just knew that he’d prefer not to linger over it.

He’d gotten his answer readily enough. Wei Wuxian running out of the library was obvious enough. Now it was just a matter of calming down his traitorous heart and getting it used to the new situation.

But that was all bad enough without his brother inviting Wei Wuxian places.

He sighed, just barely remembering not to look when he heard Wei Wuxian laugh. It didn’t matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t because that would just make the swirl of hurt and hope tighten. Besides, he knew exactly what Wei Wuxian would look like, with his head thrown back and grey eyes sparkling.

He felt his breath catch, Lan Wangji swallowing hard. He wanted to look, but that kind of desperation would just make him hurt more.

“Wangji?” He glanced over at his brother, glad of the distraction.

Lan Xichen looked at him with concern, Lan Wangji twitching when his brother looked back at Wei Wuxian. He would know, he would figure it out. And then he would want to know, and Lan Wangji didn’t want to explain.

He had misstepped. He had allowed the tangled feelings that Wei Wuxian caused in him to take over. He had forgotten about his restraint. This was something that he wanted to tell their uncle, but the words wouldn’t come. Apologizing and taking his punishment for what he had done would mean regretting what he did and learning from it. All he had learned was that he enjoyed kissing Wei Wuxian, and that he wanted to do it again. He didn’t regret his actions at all.

He fixed his gaze on his brother, not bothering to hide too much. Lan Xichen would see it anyway, and he would worry. There was nothing that Lan Wangji could do to stop that. But he could delay it.

“Later.”

Lan Xichen stared at him for a moment before giving in with a nod. He had gotten a reprieve, something that was desperately needed. It would be good to focus on something that wasn’t Wei Wuxian. Water Ghouls would take up enough of his attention that he wouldn’t have to think of one disciple sent to the Cloud Recesses to train; no matter how bright his smile was.

---

Wei Wuxian leaned on his pole, swaying slightly as he watched the people of Caiyi Town walk by. He let his gaze linger on some of the women, making sure to smile at them. They all reacted the same, with giggles and lingering looks. It was good to know that they were still interested.

It was good to know that he was still interested.

He let his gaze linger on one of them, tempering his smile into something with a bit more intention as she turned to look back at him. Wei Wuxian was sure that he didn’t imagine the way her hips had a little bit more sway into them as she walked away.

Wei Wuxian chuckled and looked back over his shoulder, some of his amusement disappearing at the sharp look that Jiang Cheng was giving him. Wei Wuxian shifted so he could lean the pole against his shoulder. “What?”

“We’re here on business. Not for fun.”

“We haven’t started on business, so there’s no reason for me to not have fun. It’s not like there’s anything else to do.” Wei Wuxian drummed his fingers against the pole, tapping out a rhythm like he was playing a tune on a flute before stopping himself. “We’re just waiting.”

“They said the water ghoul problem was in Caiyi Town.”

“Well I don’t see any, so there’s no need to worry.”

Jiang Cheng huffed and went back to looking around, Wei Wuxian seeing him making periodic checks on where the Lan brothers were waiting. Jiang Cheng kept throwing glared at Lan Wangji, to the point where Wei Wuxian was sure that Lan Wangji would notice. He didn’t want that, not when he had managed to slip under his notice for so long already. They hadn’t run into each other until earlier on, and Wei Wuxian wasn’t sure if that was a testament to how good he was at avoiding Lan Wangji or if it was Lan Wangji better at staying away from him. He was happy either way, because it meant that he didn’t have to deal with him.

Except that it hadn’t stopped him from looking.

It was easy in class, when Lan Wangji was focused on his work. For such a powerful cultivator, Lan Wangji didn’t notice much of what was happening around him, or else he would have noticed Wei Wuxian staring.

He didn’t mean to, but the lectures were boring and he couldn’t not stare. Lan Wangji was very handsome, arrestingly so. Even before the incident – the kiss – he had noticed, but that had been in a detached way. Now it was pointed, and he couldn’t stop it, just like he couldn’t stop looking at the other disciples. Wei Wuxian had already known that they were handsome men, but that had been something in the back of his head, something that he didn’t have to pay attention to. Now it was in the forefront and he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

He swallowed and turned so he wouldn’t look at Land Wangji, regretting it a moment later. There was some kind of nobleman and his retainer walking on the other side of the river, Wei Wuxian tensing when the nobleman threw him a look.

He knew what it meant; he had been doing the same to the girls all morning. But this was directed at him, the man giving him a slight salute with a coy smile. Wei Wuxian could only blink back at him, feeling his stomach twist. The man wasn’t as handsome as Lan Wangji, Wei Wuxian wasn’t sure that it was a possible. But he still found himself smiling back, at least until Jiang Cheng rammed their boats together.

Wei Wuxian stumbled and looked back over his shoulder at his brother. He had to lean back a moment later as Jiang Cheng glided up to poke a finger in his face. “Keep your eyes to yourself.”

Wei Wuxian sputtered for a moment before giving Jiang Cheng his best innocent look. “I wasn’t doing anything.”

Jiang Cheng narrowed his eyes for a moment before he shook his head. “I can handle one incident at a time. One. We’re about to leave anyway.”

Wei Wuxian glanced over at the rest of the Lan Sect, watching as some of the boats moved out. He twisted to look behind at where the net boats were, taking the chance to let his pole roll down from his shoulder into his hand.

He turned back around to looking forward, surprised by the shiver that ran down his spine when he met Lan Wangji’s gaze. Lan Wangji was staring.

Before Wei Wuxian would have thought that it was because of something he had done, but he was sure that it was different now. He took a step back, licking his lips. “Lan Wangji looks angry.”

“He always does.” Jiang Cheng poled up beside him, lifting his chin slightly before shaking his head. “You’ve probably made it worse.”

“But I haven’t done anything!”

“I don’t think you need to.”

Wei Wuxian pouted, pushing his pole into the water a bit more forcefully than necessary. “That’s unfair. I’ve been on my best behavior. If anything, I should be mad at him. He offended me first.”

He glanced to the side in time to see Jiang Cheng roll his eyes, focusing on that instead of the small voice in the back of his head that said he had encouraged it. So, he had kissed back, that was just instinct. Except that he kept looking at things now, turning the ideas over in his mind.

Wei Wuxian shivered, quickly adjusting his footing so Jiang Cheng didn’t notice. That was one thing that he didn’t want to discuss, it was better to just ignore it. If it was a problem with Lan Wangji it was easier. He could avoid Lan Wangji all he wanted. If it was anything bigger, Wei Wuxian didn’t know what he would do. He couldn’t just avoid the other disciples or his shidi at home, they would demand to know what was wrong, and the truth would send them away.

He swallowed, his gaze dragging back up to Lan Wangji’s back. It was a daring move, because he was sure that Lan Wangji would feel the force of his gaze. Wei Wuxian wasn’t even sure if he was feeling anger or something else, but he was sure that it was something else when he felt his boat rock.

Wei Wuxian adjusted himself, glancing over at Jiang Cheng as he shoved the boat with his foot. Wei Wuxian shifted the pole so he wouldn’t drift all the way over to the other side of the river and the boat traffic there. He shot his brother a surprised look, watching as Jiang Cheng shook his head. “You’re doing it again. The staring.”

“Glaring.” Wei Wuxian corrected him, not putting the usual force he would have behind it. He adjusted the course of his boat, fighting against the urge to look at the group of Lans in front of him. “I was glaring.”

Jiang Cheng sighed, the kind of noise that was a warning, except that it was coming too early in the conversation. It was even followed by another sigh, Wei Wuxian throwing caution to the wind to reach over to press his palm against Jiang Cheng’s forehead. “Are you feeling alright?”

This time the answer was a huff, the more standard Jiang Cheng answer. Jiang Cheng reached up to shove his hand away, Wei Wuxian relaxing when Jiang Cheng held onto his wrist a moment longer than he needed before dropping it.

“I’m fine. It’s you I’m worried about.” Jiang Cheng twisted around to look at the boats behind them. Wei Wuxian turned with him, frowning at the nets that some of the disciples were still messing with.

He could still see strands of hair hanging off some of them, the disciples pulling the hunks of hair as they came across them. It was more than he expected, despite the fact that Lan Xichen had told them of how many water ghouls that he had caught.

Wei Wuxian looked at the town, frowning. It looked peaceful enough, but that meant nothing. The water around Lotus Pier always looked peaceful before a storm hit. He started tapping out the fingerings to another melody when he stopped himself when he saw a group of children jump into the river. He watched them for a moment before tipping his head to the side. “Jiang Cheng, this reminds me of Lotus Pier.”

Jiang Cheng turned as well, studying the children for a moment before shooting him a look. “So, who’s drowning?”

Wei Wuxian raised his shoulder in a shrug, People would still drown; it happened around Lotus Pier. But the people of Caiyi Town were more likely to know the dangerous spots in the river and be able to read its moods. A drowning or two wouldn’t lead to dozens of ghouls by the net full.

He shifted to look up the river, not paying attention to the houses or the straight back of the disciples in front of him. He was watching the river, feeling it out for pockets of something that shouldn’t be there.

Everyone once and a while his gaze would shift up to Lan Wangji, Wei Wuxian swallowing at the now familiar jolt that went down his spine. At least it was familiar, whatever that meant. Wei Wuxian hoped that it meant that he could start ignoring it soon. There was no time for staring at Lan Wangji when there were water ghouls to catch.

---

Lan Wangji didn’t realize that he was still holding onto Wei Wuxian’s collar until the man himself started to try and wiggle away. He looked back at Wei Wuxian in his daze, his heart still hammering in his chest.

Wei Wuxian had been pulled under by the Waterborne Abyss. One minute he’d been skimming over the surface, purple robes flying behind him. Then he’d been going under into the mouth of the whirlpool. And then he was gone.

He swallowed, jerking when he felt a hand touch his wrist. He looked back at Wei Wuxian, almost disappointed when he yanked his hand away. Wei Wuxian’s hand hovered over his arm for a moment before he dropped it with a chuckle. “Lan Er-”Wei Wuxian’s eyes widened as he caught himself, Lan Wangji almost wishing that he hadn’t. “Lan Wangji, you can let go. I’m over solid ground. We’re both safe.”

For a fleeting moment, Lan Wangji thought he meant the two of them, but his gaze dropped to the other disciple, the one that Wei Wuxian had rushed in to save. He was standing on the ground, looking awkwardly up at the two of them. When he realized Lan Wangjj was looking, he bowed, muttering his thanks. Lan Wangji mostly ignored it, focusing on trying to make his fingers let go. It was harder than he thought, because it was the only time Wei Wuxian had been so close since they had kissed.

He clamped down hard on the urge to haul him up and kiss Wei Wuxian again, to release some of the horrible tension that rushed into him the moment he had lost sight of Wei Wuxian.

Lan Wangji swallowed settling on giving Wei Wuxian a serious look. “Be careful.”

Then he let him go.

He ignored the swoop of stomach as Wei Wuxian dropped, but Wei Wuxian was quick to adjust. He twisted his sword, elegantly dismounting from it and catching it. Wei Wuxian sheathed his ridiculously-named sword with a flourish, looking up with him with a smile. Lan Wangji expected teasing, he wanted it after days of avoidance and nothing but politeness. But Wei Wuxian gathered himself together and bowed, nothing out of place.

It hurt more than it expected to.

Lan Wangji took a deep breath, letting Bichen sink back onto the ground. He stepped off his sword, directing it back into its scabbard as he watched Wei Wuxian out of the corner of his eye.

Everyone was carrying on conversations, throwing out ideas on how to deal with a Waterborne Abyss. Lan Wangji listened to the chatter, but he couldn’t help but note where one was missing. He expected to hear outrageous ideas, ones that didn’t sound so outrageous on the repeating. Or maybe it was the distance from Lan Qiren shouting them down. It didn’t matter, Wei Wuxian was uncharacteristically silent.

Lan Wangji turned to look at him, surprised to see Wei Wuxian flexing one hand, He was walking forward before he could stop himself. There was no telling what the Waterborne Abyss was under the water. Even then there were probably plenty of water ghouls waiting under the water. He hadn’t seen anything on Wei Wuxian, but he had grabbed the closest thing he could. He’d been more worried about getting him out than anything else.

“Wei-”

The rest of Wei Wuxian’s name he swallowed back as Jiang Cheng stepped between them. Lan Wangji felt anger and then confusion, the two twisting together until they didn’t make sense in his mind. He had gone nothing to Jiang Cheng and Jiang Cheng had done nothing to him, aside from standing between him and Wei Wuxian.

Jiang Cheng met his gaze for a moment before bowing slightly, the tight knot in Lan Wangji’s chest untangling. They were brothers after all. It was just worry.

He took a deep breath, turning his gaze away for a moment. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to give Jiang Cheng the privacy to check over Wei Wuxian, or if he was proving himself that he could still do it. The fact that he could was an accomplishment, except that his thoughts was still fixated on Wei Wuxian. Lan Wangji sighed. Perhaps more handstands would help the fixation. Perhaps not. They hadn’t helped before.

Against his better judgment, he looked back at where Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng were standing, noting how Jiang Cheng was still standing between Wei Wuxian and him. It was only bearable since Jiang Cheng didn’t seem to be paying him any attention, but Wei Wuxian was.

Lan Wangji went still, almost afraid of what would happen if Wei Wuxian noticed him. He was sure that it would be like a skittish animal, one wrong move and Wei Wuxian would be off.

He flexed his fingers, suddenly wishing that he had grabbed more than Wei Wuxian’s collar. Then again, it had been the easiest thing to get when he had gone under. That was more important than anything else. Besides, the thought of touching Wei Wuxian’s bare skin edged towards breaking some of their rules, or at least severely bending them. He should know better, and there was a voice in the back of his head that sounded so much like his uncle reminding him of that. It was the logic that he would always listen to, it was comfortable and well known. But then Wei Wuxian was laughing at something and all of those thoughts were gone.

It was surprising how quickly his attention went right back to Wei Wuxian and how much of it was involuntary. Fifteen years of working on exquisite control gone in a moment.

His fingers twitched again, Lan Wangji fighting not to reach out and touch. The last time he had let go of his control it hadn’t ended well. It was better to watch and tuck the moments away. Just for what he didn’t know, but nothing about this was familiar and logical. Everything about this made him want to grab and hold Wei Wuxian close, or put himself back in seclusion. Maybe then that would chase the ghost of that laugh out of his mind.

Lan Wangji turned, hating himself for it in the next moment as he watched Wei Wuxian drape himself over Jiang Cheng. He envied that, not only the closeness with Wei Wuxian, but the contact. It wasn’t something that he thought he would miss. It had been extraneous for years.

“Wangji.”

He turned at the sound of his brother’s voice, relieved to have a distraction. His relief only lasted a moment, because Lan Xichen got that perceptive look, the one that said he understood and was reading into the situation. Lan Wangji sighed and his brother’s gaze flicked over to where Wei Wuxian was before understanding flashed across his face. “I see.”

“Xiongzhang…”

“No, no. It’s alright.” The words were followed by a soft brush across his sleeve, and Lan Wangji was jealous again. Hugging was not something Lans did. That didn’t stop him from turning after his brother’s touch.

If Lan Xichen was surprised, he didn’t show it. His attention lingered on Lan Wangji for a moment before he looked back towards Biling Lake. Lan Xichen frowned, one hand going to rest on Shuoyue. “This is beyond us. We must consult with Uncle…and see what we can find in the library. Maybe there’s something that we can do other than seal the lake and warn the townspeople.”

He nodded in agreement. To take care of a Waterborne Abyss would be time consuming and costly. One they could afford, but the time could be against them. The people of Caiyi Town would probably listen, but travelers wouldn’t know, and there was every chance that they could feed the abyss. He would have to consult some of the books, which would be easier without Wei Wuxian bothering him. All the same, he would miss it.

Lan Wangji nodded, carefully ignoring that thought. It had used to be easier; he was sure of it. Another burst of laughter had him tensing again, Lan Wangji swaying before he got a hold of himself. His training wouldn’t be so easily discarded, not even for a smile a bright at the sun. He took a deep breath and walked back to the remaining boats, ignoring the brush of his brother’s missed grab at his sleeve and the gaze that followed him as he went.

---

Wei Wuxian stared at the ceiling, following the swirls of the grain before giving up. It was a method he had tried without success to sleep before, but he just couldn’t do it. Nine was far too early for any sane person to sleep. He propped himself up on his elbows, looking at the disciples’ quarters.

The Gusu Lan Sect didn’t bother to divide the visiting disciples by clan, they were tucked in among the Lan disciples. It was nothing insulting, it just made things difficult. Wei Wuxian glanced over at where the Lan disciples were asleep. In a fit of pique, he stuck his tongue at them before turning to look at the beds on the other side of him.

Jiang Cheng was fast asleep, Wei Wuxian biting his lip to keep from laughing as his brother made a disgruntled sound and pulled his blanket further up over him. Wei Wuxian was tempted to poke him out of the ball he was in. Jiang Cheng would thank him later when he woke up and wasn’t cramped. When he got like this, Jiang Cheng would shuffle around like an elderly man. Five in the morning was far too early to deal with Jiang Cheng complaining.

Wei Wuxian sighed, looking down to where Nie Huaisang was asleep on the other side of Jiang Cheng. He couldn’t see much more than a fall of hair over a shoulder. The sight arrested him for a moment, Wei Wuxian swallowing at the familiar spark of interest.

He needed to walk.

He threw his blanket back, reaching down to pick up his boots. Wei Wuxian was in the process of pulling them on when Jiang Cheng sat up.

Wei Wuxian expected Jiang Cheng to stare at him for a moment before going back to sleep, which was normal. Instead, Jiang Cheng kept peering at him before speaking. “Where are you going?”

“Out.”

His answer got Jiang Cheng to lean closer. “To do what?”

“You don’t trust me?” Wei Wuxian waited a beat to give Jiang Cheng the time to answer before shaking his head. “I’m insulted.”

“Good, then you might stop.” Jiang Cheng dropped back down, reaching up to pull his pillow under his head. Once he was settled, he gave him a bleary look. “But you’re not going to.”

“No. I can’t sleep.” Wei Wuxian tugged on his left boot, jamming his foot in before leaning forward to smile at Jiang Cheng. “My other option is waking up the rest of the Lans.”

“No. You’re already in enough trouble with one of them.”

Wei Wuxian pressed his hand to his heart. “You would think I would sink so low as that. I don’t go around kissing every man I meet.”

“But you flirt with them.”

Wei Wuxian sputtered, Jiang Cheng quick to wave at him to be quiet, eventually giving up and slapping at his leg. “Quiet.”

Wei Wuxian clamped a hand over his mouth, glaring at his brother. Jiang Cheng must have still been half asleep not to see it, because he slapped his leg a few more times before letting his arm dangle. Jiang Chest sighed, closing his eyes. Wei Wuxian was sure that he was going back to sleep. He sat for a moment to be sure before getting up.

He intended to pad toward the door and slip out into the night, although just where he didn’t know. He didn’t think that he would make it to the pool. It was far away from the dormitories and he would run out of roofs, which were the safest way to get through the Cloud Recesses. There was always one, poor sleepy Lan doing the night patrol.

He made it a few steps before Jiang Cheng sat up again. Wei Wuxian froze, watching as Jiang Cheng swayed upright for a moment before shaking his head. “Just get this settled.”

“What?”

Jiang Cheng made a vague motion at him. “Whatever this is. The staring, the flirting, figure it out before it drives us both insane.”

That, apparently, was all he was going to say because Jiang Cheng flopped back down again, leaving Wei Wuxian to stare at him.

Wei Wuxian wanted to reach back over and shake him awake, because he felt like he needed to defend himself. It wasn’t like he was doing this on purpose. If there was anyone to blame, it was Lan Wangji for starting this whole train of events. Then again, if he had wanted to, he could have forgotten the whole thing by now.

He sighed and padded his way to the door, slipping out of it. Wei Wuxian quickly swung himself onto the roof, crouching there in the rain as he looked around. There was usually one Lan on patrol, at least for the early hours. Just for what Wei Wuxian didn’t know. It couldn’t be for him, there was only one Lan who had managed to catch him out at night.

Wei Wuxian looked over his shoulder at the thought, halfway expecting Lan Wangji to be standing there. But he never came down to the disciple dormitories. That left him a small area to wander, but he didn’t feel like it. It was one thing to be trapped in his thoughts, but another to be trapped in place. Wei Wuxian shifted on the roof before making his decision and heading off.

From the roof of the disciples’ dormitories it was a quick jump to a series of buildings and one drop onto a bridge until he could get to the wall that circled the front of the Cloud Recesses. The roofs were slick under his feet, Wei Wuxian slowing down a bit more to keep his footing. The rain would hide the sound of his footsteps, not that he was worried about a Lan coming out to shout at him. He was far away from the Lan on patrol.

He swung himself over a tree branch that overhung the wall, pausing on the other side. Wei Wuxian looked over the wall, tempted to jump over. It wouldn’t take him too long to get down to the town at the base of the mountain. He was sure that one of the taverns would still be open. He could get himself a jar of wine and drink until things worked themselves out in his mind. Or he would sit there and stare at the men and hope to come to some conclusion.

Wei Wuxian sighed and took a step back so he was leaning against the branch. That wouldn’t help, because he would just be staring. He ran his hands over his face before turning it up towards the sky. There was no help from there, not that he expected it. Staring at people wouldn’t help. It was a good delaying tactic and nothing more. At most it would annoy Jiang Cheng, which was not the point. There were plenty of other ways that he could do that, something better than this. It would be more fun if he wasn’t the one annoyed as well.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, holding it as long as he could before letting it go. It didn’t help, but he was getting used to that. Ignoring it wouldn’t work because the stray thoughts would be there. Wei Wuxian had a feeling that they had always been there, he just blithely ignored them. It had been easier before he’d been forced to actually think about them. It was easier when he wasn’t sneaking looks at Lan Wangji and wondering what would happen if he tried to kiss him again and there wasn’t a table in the way.

He drummed his fingers against the tree branch, tempted to just turn around and sneak back into the dormitory. He was sure that Jiang Cheng hadn’t been awake enough to remember the conversation, and Wei Wuxian wasn’t sure if he was disappointed or not. Jiang Cheng was the one that was more likely to call him out on it, but his brother had been compliant. He’d been defending his honor as much as he defended shijie’s. The difference is that shijie knew her mind, even if her taste was questionable. He didn’t.

Girls were pretty. Guys were pretty. He wanted to kiss them both.

He wiped the rain from his face, his fingers lingering on his lips. It had been weeks now, but he was sure that he could feel the faint pressure of Lan Wangji’s lips against his.

Wei Wuxian hissed out a curse, dropping his hand back down to the tree. He turned his head to look down at the courtyard on the other side of the wall, something in him not surprised to see Lan Wangji standing there under an umbrella. He hadn’t heard Lan Wangji approach, but he wasn’t surprised, he’d been stuck in his circle of thoughts. Besides, Lan Wangji had a habit of popping up where he didn’t want him.

He watched Lan Wangji for a moment, getting impatient when he didn’t spout off one of the rules or demand something of him. Wei Wuxian was tempted to try and sneak back to the dorms. He hadn’t done anything, so maybe Lan Wangji would let him go. Maybe he could try and convince him that he had been sleep walking. But, instead of moving stiffly back towards the dormitories, he found himself sliding down to the edge of the wall.

He caught himself there, smiling down at Lan Wangji. To his surprise, that was all that it took for Lan Wangji to walk closer until he was standing at the base of the wall, looking up at him.

Wei Wuxian waited for a command to get down from the wall, or maybe a threat. Instead, Lan Wangji just tipped his umbrella back a fraction and stared. Wei Wuxian shifted under the impassionate gaze, quickly losing his patience with the silence.

He opened his mouth, not sure how he was going to send Lan Wangji on his way, when Lan Wangji spoke up. “Curfew.”

Wei Wuxian blinked before shaking his head. “Only if I’m outside. I haven’t been on the other side of the wall. See?” He held up his hands. “Nothing on me.”

Lan Wangji narrowed his eyes, the silence that followed apparently the question that he was not asking. Wei Wuixian sighed and let his legs swings from the edge of the wall. “There’s no rule against sitting on walls, just ones about going out. I haven’t broken any rules, so you can’t punish me.”

He was distinctly aware that the look that Lan Wangji gave him meant that the man didn’t believe him. It was enough to get Wei Wuxian to sputter, crossing his arms over his chest. “And what about you? What are you doing up? It’s past your bedtime.”

He made a shooing motion, watching as Lan Wangji swayed. For a moment, he thought that the man would head back to whatever he had been doing, but Lan Wangji stood his ground. Wei Wuxian repeated the motion, hoping that he would get the hint. “Go on. I’m not about to sneak out. I’d break my neck trying to climb the wall in this weather.”

That didn’t seem to reassure Lan Wangji either. If anything, it got him to move closer to the wall.

Wei Wuxian stared down at him before grinning. He wanted Lan Wangji gone so he wouldn’t have to deal with the urge to get closer. He didn’t need that, he wanted to think this confusion out, or at least manage to ignore it. He might make his words a lie and sneak into town, just to flirt with a girl down there. It might be enough to make him forget. Or maybe there would be a guy, and then he could settle this in his mind once and for all. But he couldn’t do that until Lan Wangji left. And there was one sure way to do that.

He dropped down from the wall, landing right in front of Lan Wangji and far closer than the man got to anyone.

As he predicted, it was enough to make Lan Wangji take a startled step back. Wei Wuxian leaned in close, stepping around Lan Wangji to keep him at bay and moving until he was the one standing with his back to the courtyard and Lan Wangji was a few steps away from the wall. He straightened up, taking a step back and watching Lan Wangji. It was worth it for the moment that Lan Wangji realized what had happened. His eyes widened minutely, before he sighed. He adjusted his umbrella so it was covering him from the rain again.

It was the most subdued response that he had ever gotten, and it was almost a shame. Maybe Lan Wangji had gotten used to him, but that might mean that he would be allowed more. Or maybe not. Wei Wuxian didn’t really care.

He pushed his bangs out of his face, sighing when they flopped wetly back into place. Wei Wuxian gave up keeping them out of the way, he was bound to be soaked by now anyway. Walking down the mountain and then back up it would only get worse, unless the rain stopped. He huffed and turned to leave, intending to find somewhere else to be when he heard a soft sound from behind him.

“Wei Ying…”

He turned to look at Lan Wangji, immediately regretting it because he was immediately stopped in his tracks. When he was prepared for Lan Wangji, he was fine. Teasing Lan Wangji was fine as well, it meant distance at the price of paying attention. But at least he had an excuse then. The moments like these he didn’t know how to deal with, especially with everything going on.

Lan Wangji was handsome, there was no denying that, and that was the problem. He’d ignored it before, but now it was more difficult, and that made him frustrated. Some part of him wanted to go back to the way that it had been, when he didn’t have to think about everything that he said or second guess himself. Another part of him wanted to get it done. He’d been planning to sneak out over the wall, but there was an opportunity here, and one that didn’t include him getting caught.

After all, Lan Wangji had started it.

He nodded to himself and strode up to Lan Wangji, expecting him to step back. Lan Wanji couldn’t get far, Wei Wuxian close enough to hear the way that his breath hitched when he knocked against the wall. But he didn’t look back at it. His only reaction was to tighten his hold on his umbrella. But he didn’t reach for Bichen, which Wei Wuxian took as permission to keep going.

Wei Wuxian stepped under the umbrella, the soft patter of rain getting slightly louder as it bounced off the umbrella before rolling away. It curtained them away from the rest of the world, which Wei Wuxian was alright with. This was between him and Lan Wangji.

He looked up at Lan Wangji, searching for anything that he could use to read the man, but there was nothing. Maybe his eyes were slightly wider than before, but everything else was still. Wei Wuxian took another step forward, stopping just before they could touch, but there was only a hairsbreadth of space between them.

That finally got a reaction, Wei Wuxian hearing Lan Wangji take a quick breath. When it was let out, it shook, Wei Wuxian feeling his heartbeat speed up for reasons he didn’t quite understand. This was far beyond the bounds of how he usually teased, so he found himself floundering.

He licked his lips, suddenly aware of how closely Lan Wangji was watching him. Lan Wangji even leaned in, Wei Wuxian seeing a flash of something in his eyes. It was gone too quickly for him to see any more of it, which made him want to bring it back.

He took another step forward before he could stop himself, feeling their chests bump together. Lan Wangji jerked back, but was stopped by the wall, the impact startling a surprised sound out of him. Wei Wuxian found himself leaning closer at that, his gaze not wavering from Lan Wangji. If Lan Wangji was feeling anything it was gone in a split second.

He cocked his head to the side, feeling his hair slide down his neck. Lan Wangji watched that, Wei Wuxian grinning when Lan Wangji seemed to remember himself and snap his gaze away.

Wei Wuxian laughed, intending it to come out like normal, but instead it dropped deeper, less teasing in the way that he intended. It was enough of a warning to stop, but he couldn’t stop his mouth. “Are you hiding things from me, Lan Zhan?”

He was treated to another quick breath, but nothing else. It didn’t give him much, just that he was on the right track.

Wei Wuxian rocked forward, getting too close, close enough that he was sure that his breath was ghosting across Lan Wangji’s lips, but he couldn’t stop himself. Worse still, Lan Wangji wasn’t stopping him, he was just staring with wide eyes.

Wei Wuxian swallowed, the words falling out of his mouth, out of his control. “Lan Zhan, how can I tell what you’re thinking if you just have one expression?”

“Wei Ying…”

“And what am I supposed to think when you kiss me and then do nothing?”

Lan Wangji swallowed, Wei Wuxian seeing him shake. “You…kissed back.”

“I did, didn’t I?” It wasn’t what he had meant to say, but he was distracted. It was hard to think this close to Lan Wangji. The closer he got, the more it smelled like sandalwood. It was what Lan Wangji always smelled like, probably from the incense he burned. It was making his head spin. “Lan Zhan?”

“Mn?”

He wasn’t sure what he had been going to ask, it suddenly didn’t matter. He was close enough to feel the answer rumble through Lan Wangji, and that was enough to snap whatever was holding him back.

He surged forward, distantly hearing Lan Wangji make a surprised noise, but he swallowed that as he rocked up slightly to kiss Lan Wangji.

Lan Wangji tensed, Wei Wuxian sure that he was going to try and duck away, but he didn’t want that. He reached up to press his palm against Lan Wangji’s feeling his heart pounding fast under his palm as his other hand slapped against the wall. It meant that he was pressed up against Lan Wangji, but he couldn’t bring himself to care, not when Lan Wangji was starting to yield, his body slumping and the kiss moving from just a press of lips into something more like he remembered from the library. It was hungry, desperate, and made him move closer to Lan Wangji.

He pressed up against him, closing what little distance remained between the two of them. Wei Wuxian heard Lan Wangji grunt, and then the sound of the rain was changing. Wei Wuxian didn’t pay it much attention until the rain started to hit him.

He pulled back enough to gasp for breath. Wei Wuxian only got a few gasps of breath before Lan Wangji was pulling him back in with a hand on the back of his neck and on his waist. Compared to that gentle pressure, the rain was nothing.

Wei Wuxian allowed himself to be reeled back in, Lan Wangji’s hands steady on him. Wei Wuxian wasn’t able to resist them. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to, not when Lan Wangji was dragging him back into a kiss that sent tingles down to the tips of his toes. His fingers grabbed more of Lan Wangji’s robe, trying to pull him closer even as he pressed against Lan Wangji.

He gasped as Lan Wangji tilted their heads, coaxing the kiss deeper. It felt messy, sloppy, things that he wouldn’t have connected to Lan Wangji. Maybe something that was more like the erotica books.

He moaned, feeling Lan Wangji’s tug him closer. Lan Wangji broke their kiss for a moment, long enough to whisper, “Don’t run.”

“No.” Lan Wangji didn’t give him the chance to elaborate, but Wei Wuxian was sure that the message was received. Lan Wangji’s tight hold on him eased, Wei Wuxian taking the chance to draw in another deep breath before leaning in again. He didn’t want to stop; he didn’t think he could. Something was compelling him to keep going, to keep urging the kiss deeper and deeper and for him to get closer until he was pressed up to Lan Wangji completely and the wall was the only think keeping them upright.

He gasped when he felt a leg slip between his own, Wei Wuxian grinding against it, only then aware of how hard he was.

He swallowed, trying to get words out when he had to pull away for breath again, but Lan Wangji wouldn’t get him far enough away. His hands were holding Wei Wuxian tightly, almost like he was afraid that he would try to break away. Wei Wuxian had no intention of moving, not when he was sure that he would drop to the ground as soon as Lan Wangji let go of him. He could only clutch at Lan Wangji as he rocked against him, gasping into his mouth.

“Lan Zhan…”

He thought he felt the shape of Lan Wangji’s mouth change, but it was only for a moment. Then Lan Wangji’s hands were shifting, bringing him impossibly closer as Wei Wuxian’s eyes fluttered shut.

“Wei Ying.”

[cyn-00]

Moreid one shot, 4 - "the first one"

Season 6, episode 1 "The longest night" (at the end of the episode, when the team arrives to the couple's house where the unsub is - the "Prince of Darkness", and Morgan alone gets in)

I know I have just posted number 3 but hey, I felt productive, so...enjoy it while it lasts? I'm sure as hell gonna have a drop in creativity soon and won't be posting for like...weeks.

Also, it's a long-ish one, sorry ❤️ (? I guess? Maybe it's better for you). Note: I think I kept the unsub’s lines pretty much consistent with what he actually said in the show - the concept is the same, words might be different

Y'all this fucking episode...there was SO MUCH Moreid Angst potential...wasted. robbed. Ugh.

Read it on AO3

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

The team along with the police arrived to the home of the couple where the unsub was reported to be, after he let out of the car the little girl he had taken as a hostage.

It was melting hot and the sun was blinding, the bulletproof vests and the obvious anxiousness were surely not making any of it any easier.

Reid had been worried for Morgan all day long. After he was the first to find and succor him at detective Spicer's house in Santa Monica, the night before - where he was tied and kicked repeatedly by the unsub - Spencer wasn't sure he could think straight. But Derek was wired like that: if anybody doubted his capability to keep working efficiently even when hurt, they would get yelled at. Of course, Garcia and Reid got yelled at.

And he had only apologized to Garcia so far.

-

Just before getting in all together, they received a phone call. Spencer was too far to hear what it was about, but as soon as the local pd officer passed the phone to Derek, he gathered that the call was from the unsub. And that he wanted Morgan to deal with him personally.

"Wait- what's happening?" he nervously asked Prentiss, even though he knew exactly what was happening. He just wanted someone external to confirm that his theory was correct, and that he wasn't going batshit crazy.

"I think he wants Morgan to get in." Prentiss answered. Reid was so tense he didn't even register what she'd just said, even being the one who asked in the first place.

Morgan made a few steps ahead with Hotch right behind him. Reid's nerves started to untangle.

But then the man stopped and turned around to confront their team leader. Again: Spencer couldn't hear, but from the look on Derek's face, he seemed enraged just as much as confident in his ability to handle what he was walking into. Reid wasn’t equally confident in such thing, though.

Hotch nodded and stepped away.

"He- he's going in alone?? W- why isn't Hotch going with him? He cannot- Morgan! Morgan wait-" Spencer was about to run toward him, but Emily grabbed his arm strongly enough to keep him from getting any farther.

"Reid," she said softly.

"What?! Are we really going to watch him get killed? He's probably not even completely aware, he's hurt and he didn't even rest for a second like we all told him to do- and the MEDICS, too, I- I get that he doesn't wanna listen to me but at leas-"

"Reid, stop. You going in there is not gonna make things any better. You have to trust him." she reasoned, assertive.

Hotch, still a little far from them both, shot him a stern glare and shook his head, as if saying: "Don't. Let him go."

Spencer calmed down just enough to realize what Emily had just said. Was she intending that if he went in it would only get worse because he was the weak and clumsy one? Same old stuff. Was that excuse ever gonna stop being an argument to persuade him not to do things? Not to help people?

Spencer gave her a deadly glance.

"It's not about me. And it's not about trusting him- I don't trust the psychopath killer on a spree that's in there with Morgan, not Morgan. We should all go in with him, I- I don't understand why I'm the only one who cares, we are a team, right?? That's what you guys always tell me when I'm about to do stupid things or- or try to deal alone with matters that are bigger than me. So why are we purposely letting him go alone all of a sudden? That's EXACTLY what the unsub is waiting for." he explained rationally, but rattling on as fast as he did everytime he was convinced about something - which was...always.

He snatched his arm away from Emily's grip before she could reply with something that would only make him more mad, and quickly strode far from everyone, looking down at the ground while stripping off his bulletproof vest with twitchy fingers. He felt breathless, on the verge of crying and, at that point, even useless and on some measure mocked by his very team- his family.

-

When Reid screamed at him, Morgan obviously heard him. But in that moment, the anger he was feeling caused everything else to shift to a lower level of importance. Even his Spencer worrying about him - actually, it was especially the thought of his boyfriend worrying about him that Derek was trying to push back into a hidden corner of his head: he couldn't let the guilt of making him wait helplessly eat at him in that moment.

He kept walking toward the door. He just wanted to get over with that psychopath and run back in the arms of his lover, apologizing and letting him pet his neck while whispering forgiving words in his ear.

-

Once he entered the house, he heard the unsub talking to him.

"Over here, agent." he said.

Morgan slowly and cautiously walked toward the couple's bedroom, from where the disgustingly over-polite voice was coming, with his gun firmly pointed ahead.

When he got in, the two hostages were curled up on themselves on the floor; wrists, ankles and mouths duct-taped. The "Prince of Darkness" was sitting on the bed between them, denying the couple to even find comfort in each other's proximity; a gun in his hand.

And he was crying. Morgan wasn't sure if it was to try and make him pity him, or if he was actually feeling some kind of emotion besides...pure evil, if that can even be defined as an emotion.

"That's it. You have no way out." he said in an unwavering tone, approaching closer.

"You say?" the unsub laughed.

Morgan slowly but carefully lowered his firearm. "I'm not afraid of you."

"But they are." answered the man - though Derek was reluctant to deem him such - pointing at the two with his gun, making them squeak in fear.

"You see," he continued, still crying. "right after I killed my mother, she looked at me - I don't know if I was imagining it - but she looked at me with relief, sort of. Like I finally set her free."

Morgan scowled. He heated up and raised the gun toward him, again.

"That's what you think you were doing to those people? You thought that by killing them you were doing them a FAVOR?" he asked. The uncomfortable realization of knowing the answer to such question already, triggered in Derek's body the urge of vomiting from one second to another.

Both their guns were aiming right at each other’s heads now.

"Naah " the unsub replied; on his face a grimace akin to a smug, lopsided smile. He stood up from the mattress.

"I killed them because I decided they had to die. Just like...God." his self-complacent grin widened.

"You sick bastard." Morgan spat through gritted teeth, fire in his eyes, sweat drooling down his temples.

-

Two gun shots were fired. Everyone outside heard them.

Reid was suddenly like woken up from a dream - one that left him with a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. His heart stopped for a fraction of second only to start pounding rapidly right after; his brain went blank, like static.

It didn't even cross his mind that everyone on the team along with the police were gonna go in anyway: he ran toward the house, forgetting to put on his vest; merely accompanied by his gun and the instinct to rescue the man he would’ve cut off all his limbs for.

Prentiss and Hotch screamed at him with all their breath, but in all honesty he couldn't have cared less. The voices of his two teammates sounded muffled to his ears, as if three layers of thick glass were separating them from him. He had this gut feeling that Derek had taken too much time in there to taste his revenge, and that's exactly what the guy was expecting from him, using it in his favor to hurt him or - more likely - kill him: he had NO intention nor interest in trusting those two again.

Both his thoughts and his steps were suddenly interrupted by someone who jumped in front of him and pressed a palm firmly on his chest: it was Rossi.

"You cannot go in there without vest, kiddo. We're going in."

"Then come with me, but I won't stand here doing nothing! What the hell are you guys waiting for?? I've seen no one moving for fuck 's sake- what, have you given up on him already??" Spencer yelped in response, his voice coming out way less steady than he'd wished to.

Their altercation was cut off by Emily's voice.

"...Reid..."

"What now??" he bit back, annoyed.

She was staring at the front door, pointing at something. Or someone.

Spencer turned around, hoping not to see the unsub, because that would’ve meant he’d got the better out of the two.

His heart stopped - again. His eyes filled up with tears. His bones shuddered.

-

Derek was there, right outside of the door, standing still. His bulletproof vest in one hand, his gun in the other. He looked physically and mentally drained out, breathing heavily as if trying not to pass out on the hardwood floor of the porch; but at the same time relieved that he could feel sensations and emotions again, instead of a continuous state of sheer rage and frustration, all the time: he could feel his eyes prickling with tears, his heart hammering in his ears, his skin cold-sweating from the breeze blowing hot and humid against it.

He was staring at Spencer and Spencer was staring back at him, but neither was making an effort to close the 30 ft distance separating them.

When Spencer saw him taking a few steps in his direction, he stilled. But then Derek froze in spot, as if suddenly realizing that his legs were crumbling under his weight, disabling him from getting more than a few feet ahead; ignoring the fact that he was supposed to be the "strong" one out of the two - out of them all.

JJ was watching from far away. Hotch, Prentiss and Rossi were standing, encircling Reid, like they were all waiting for him to do something, like they wanted to give him the privilege of going toward Morgan first.

Spencer got the hint. He absent-mindedly pulled away David's hand from his shoulder, and finally started walking forward, putting his gun away.

He didn't run. He didn't feel the need to do so: it was like the urge to go and "save" him was gone the moment he came out of the house and everybody saw him, alive, breathing.

Once he was right in front of him, he stared long and deep into his glossy eyes, immobilized. He didn't know what to tell him, and neither did Derek: there was nothing to say, they were feeling too much to think about the right words to speak, to give some sort of hierarchical order to the things they had to get off of their aching chests.

Derek could no longer keep his usual alpha-male show going. He dropped his vest and gun to the ground, falling on his knees with a thud, shedding his first tear since it all started. Nobody on the team had ever seen him that vulnerable - Spencer, on the other hand, was certainly not new to it.

He kneeled down as well, finally getting to wrap his boyfriend in his arms as tight as he could; dwelling on the unfounded, naive and anti-scientific conviction that he could keep his crumbling body whole only with his slim frame, hoping it could act as a glue to stick together the smithereens of Derek’s soul.

Derek hugged him back just as tight, forgetting that the same amount of strength that made him comfortable in Spencer's arms, could actually make it difficult for the skinny man to breathe, squeezed in a body twice as strong - albeit equally tall.

But neither of them cared, in that moment.

He buried his face in Spencer's neck, keeping at bay the volume of his choking sobs and probably soaking wet the collar of his shirt: hiding him from judgemental eyes was a small price Spencer was willing to pay, if it made Derek feel like he was finally allowed to find comfort in him.

Spencer closed his eyes, massaging the back of his neck; uncaring of the sensation of his skin melting from the heat imbuing the air surrounding them, only increased by the warmth of their hug.

-

Derek shifted a little.

"Kid I- I'm so sorry for treating you like crap in the past days..." he finally stuttered against Spencer's skin. He wasn't really expecting an answer: he knew that Spencer - and, to be honest, everyone else on the team - could not but agree on that, and that he’d probably already forgiven him, like they always did when they got mad at each other.

Derek kissed his temple.

"and I love you." he added, once he’d lifted his head just enough to reach Spencer’s ear.

He kissed his earlobe, risking to deafen him with the smacking sound - he could feel the man's muzzle scrunching at that.

"I swear to God I love you, Spencer, I love you so much."

He lowered his face, reclaiming his previous spot on Spencer’s neck, placing kisses on his damp skin - from sweat and tears.

"-love you, I love you, I loveyou-" he whispered in a loop, as if the more he said it, the higher the odds that Spencer’s body could absorb the concept.

Derek himself couldn't believe he was actually saying it out loud - not like that. He knew Spencer knew it, even by just demonstrating it - which was way more important and tangible. But that time he felt like he needed to actually voice it, and the fact that he told him so not that often, convinced Spencer more and more that the way Derek loved him was not the same way he loved the others on the team; each time the three words were repeated, again and again and again, like a gentle but forceful lullaby, wrecking down his wall of uncertainty.

"I know you do." Spencer interrupted Derek’s flowing of whispers, sniffling. "and you know I love you too."

-

Suddenly, he felt some kind of...drop, falling on his shoulder, sinking through the thin cotton of his shirt. He let go of Derek and looked at him: it wasn't the tears.

"Your cut is bleeding again...you should have known better than to just ask for a band-aid." he said, regaining a bit of composure while he cleaned the blood drooling from the other's brow with his thumb, careful not to touch the open scratch.

"It's just a cut." Derek shrugged, wiping off the tears from his face with the back of his hand.

"The ambulance is already here, you should go to the hospital so they can at least put a couple of stitches on it." Spencer insisted, playing the puppy-eye card.

Morgan sighed at how annoyingly and at the same time adorably caring Reid always acted when he was hurt. He resigned to stand up on his feet, prompting at the other to do the same, and they walked together toward one of the two ambulances.

Once they’d stepped out of their timeless, little bubble of emotions and tear-wet kisses and entanglement of limbs and whispered words; they both realized the only ones that had been looking at them for those few minutes were the policemen, mostly confused or even moved, but strangely not mocking: JJ was trying to shoo away some reporters, Hotch was on the phone - supposedly with Strauss or Garcia - Rossi and Prentiss were inside the house. All of them had probably seen the scene but were very good at hiding it.

-

Derek was sitting on the back of the ambulance. The medic hadn't arrived yet. Spencer was standing in front of him, trying to minimize the bleeding with a gauze, and more importantly to prevent any infections.

"I can do it alone, you know?" Derek told him, gazing at him with heart eyes.

"I don't care." Reid responded unbothered, concentrated on the task at hand.

He then removed the gauze from Morgan's cut, letting out a sigh.

"...I- I should stay here, you know? The team might need my help with some stuff." Spencer said in a tone full of resignation and apology, as he feigned to be studying attentively the bloody gauze in one hand, while the other rested on Derek's thigh.

Derek laughed good-heartedly at him. 

"What?? You thought you were coming with me? For some stitches? C'mon now pretty boy. They need you more than I do." He retorted convincingly, but in reality he needed him way more than anyone else did in that moment. He just didn't wanna be a burden.

Spencer slightly frowned at the idea that he wasn't even considering him coming with to the hospital as an option. He didn't argue though, letting the conversation fall in a short silence.

-

"...is anyone around?" Derek asked, lowering his voice.

Spencer squinted his eyes at him, confused. He backed up a little and checked: they were all pretty far away. The rear side of the ambulance, where they were, was facing the other way, so clearly everyone just saw the front of it. He got closer again.

"Uh, no? I think they're all-"

He couldn't finish the sentence because Derek - who perfectly knew no one was around and, even if there was someone, he didn't care - had already pulled him closer by grabbing his arm and pushed his lips against his, all of a sudden. Spencer's waist so thin that his strong arms could've wrapped around it twice.

Spencer was definitely caught off guard - just like most of the times Derek kissed him out of nowhere. One would think he'd got used to it, by that point.

Admittedly, he’d been meaning to kiss him since the second he saw him getting out of the house - which was half an hour before that. He just couldn't bring himself to do it, in front of at least 30 people. But now that he felt like he could, he cupped the back of Derek's neck with his hand, guiding his head as he pleased, in order to draw his mouth deeper into his.

Derek spread his thighs a few inches so that Spencer could come closer - like there was any space left between them.

He stopped all of a sudden, gasping for air, resting his forhead against Spencer's with his eyes still shut; an attempt of closing out whatever other sensation could distract him from relishing a few seconds longer in the sweet taste of Spencer’s mouth, still clinging onto his tongue.

-

"I wanted to do it as soon as I saw you." Derek broke the silence with his confession, distancing himself a little to look into Spencer's eyes; caramel specks brought out by the sunlight. 

"I had the gut feeling you were going to be the first one to look for me when I fired that shot. I knew it was gonna be you." he added, tucking an untamed, brunette curl behind his boyfriend’s ear.

Spencer bit the inside of his cheek, choosing to reply non-verbally by leaning closer and parting his lips again to lay another kiss on his - because, how could he not, after he said those things. 

But they heard footsteps approaching.

-

They quickly got away from each other. Reid's body suddenly remembered how hot it was outside, and that situation surely wasn't helping.

The medic along with Rossi appeared from the side of the ambulance.

"The bleeding stopped...plus, it looks very clean. Good job whoever did it!" she congratulated, after taking a quick look at Morgan's cut. Reid and him exchanged a knowing glance.

"Alright, we can go now, agent Morgan. We still have to stitch it up a little. Sorry if I kept you waiting." she apologized.

Derek kept his eyes on Spencer. 

"No problem." he answered briefly, trying to hide a smirk. He actually wanted to thank her for having given them the time to do...that.

-

While Morgan got inside with the medic and the ambulance left, Rossi stood silently next to Reid, with his hands in his pockets. He had clearly captured all the exchange of looks between the two. And Reid's messy hair, breathing rhythm and rumpled shirt were just a few other clues that they hadn't simply been talking.

"You guys know that we know. Right?" he finally put a halt to the awkward silence.

Spencer’s eyes remained glued to the ground, but widened instantly - as if he shouldn’t have expected such a comment, sooner or later...

"...I- I guess." he answered, not even bothering to make the effort of denying it, aware that it'd be useless. The blush he was trying to contain made him wonder if, maybe, he should've considered that option. Not that he was any good at lying.

Rossi snorted and patted Spencer’s shoulder. "I'm just happy you two have each other. We all are."

Reid finally raised his gaze from the tarmac to look at him with puppy eyes, without saying anything. What was there to say? Morgan and him had both been feeling like it was way more than just friendship since day one, even though they had actually been "dating" only for a year or so. It had to happen, it was clear to everyone on the team BUT them. Talk about being blindly in love.

David left the kid alone with his thoughts, strolling away toward Emily, who - Reid realized just then - had been grinning at them from afar all along, with her arms folded on her chest.

"I'm happy too" Spencer smiled to himself.

[the--highlanders]

24. Magic

on ao3.

“Ah – Jamie, would you mind coming here for a moment?”

Startled, Jamie drew to a halt and glanced around the corridor. There were half a dozen doors around him, and sounds echoed so strangely in the TARDIS that he could not exactly pinpoint where the Doctor’s voice had come from. Glancing around himself, he caught sight of a door left ever so slightly ajar, letting warm light spill out through the crack and into the cold whiteness of the corridor. The Doctor had always claimed that the TARDIS hated doors being left open when nobody was inside. He certainly spouted a lot of nonsense, and Jamie was not entirely sure that he believed everything he said about his ship, but he could not deny that doors did have a habit of closing themselves, even – perhaps especially – when one was carrying something heavy between rooms.

Sure enough, he stepped closer to see the Doctor inside, settled on a sofa with his legs tucked underneath him. It looked to be one of the ship’s many – entertainment rooms, the Doctor called them, as if any of them looked the slightest bit similar. The walls of this one were lined with shelves, bowed under the weight of books and boxes of all shapes and sizes and colours. Jamie stepped inside tentatively, searching every surface for one of those screens that had a habit of blaring to life when he least expected it. But there was no television, just a hissing old radio squeaking out half-coherent tunes.

The Doctor did not look up as he pushed the door open to pad inside, instead frowning down at the pack of cards in his hand. He shuffled a few, titled his head from side to side, and drew a card from the back, shaking his head.

“Tellin’ fortunes?” Jamie asked, settling himself down on the sofa opposite the Doctor’s.

“Nothing so mystical.” The Doctor looked up at him with pursed lips, but quickly broke into a smile. “No, I’m – well, never mind. I wanted to talk to you.”

Whatever it was, he sounded so serious about it. Jamie hurriedly swallowed down the lump that had risen in his throat, flexing his hands to stop himself from clenching them. “Is everythin’ alright?” The Doctor had certainly been acting awfully strange around him lately, vanishing in the middle of conversations and forgetting what he had wanted to say and generally seeming – well, awkward was the only way to put it, Jamie supposed. Perhaps he had been fretting over needing to say something terrible. Maybe he’s tired of me, he thought. He’s going to tell me that he wants to drop me off at the next place we land, and I’ll never see any of them again. The thought was so miserable that it almost did not bear dwelling on, but once it had taken form, he found he could not shake it off.

“Jamie?” The Doctor was watching him expectantly, eyebrows raised and lips slightly parted. “Are you quite alright?”

“Aye, aye, I’m fine.” Bear it with dignity, he told himself. “What did ye want tae tell me”

The Doctor was still looking at him funny, like he was trying to puzzle him out. “I just wanted to ask if you’re happy with us.”

The question should have set him at ease, but it only made Jamie’s heart pound faster. He’s just working up to it. He’s toying with me. Should he say no? Would it make it easier for the Doctor to say what he so obviously wanted to? For all his anxiety, he did not have it in him to lie. “Very happy.”

“I, ah, I know it must have been an odd few weeks,” the Doctor was carrying on, still shuffling his cards. “And I know it must have been quite a shock for you, at first. But I just wanted to – well, to see how you were doing.”

“Oh.” Jamie opened his mouth and closed it again, but no sound came out. “I’m doin’ fine,” he said at last, rather more hoarsely than he would have liked. “Ben an’ Polly have been -” He shrugged, wondering how to put into words Polly’s kindness in settling him into the TARDIS, or how Ben had half-flung himself down a cliff to help him after they had only known each other for a few hours. “Nice.” It hardly did justice to how much he liked them – or how much he liked the Doctor, for that matter – but it would have to do.

“Well, I’m very glad to hear it.” The Doctor held out a few cards towards him, fanned out between his fingers. “Pick a card, hm?”

Jamie took a red one, the one with the largest picture, though not without a little trepidation. Perhaps it was some sort of future-telling thing after all. Or some sort of test. Or a game of chance to help the Doctor make up his mind about whether or not to kick him out. “I got -”

“No, no, don’t tell me which one you picked.” Shoving the cards back into the rest of the stack, the Doctor reached into his sleeve. He rifled around up there for a moment, eyes going almost comically wide when he failed to find anything. “Mm. No, that’s not right. Here, give the card back.” Jamie’s nervousness was quickly growing into bafflement. He handed the card over slowly, wondering quite what the Doctor was getting at. “Thank you. Now...” Once again, the Doctor held out a second fan of cards. “Pick another.”

“Doctor...” Shrugging to himself, Jamie picked out a black card this time. “What’s all this about?”

“Oh, I was just checking in.”

“Oh.” Jamie stared down at the pair of little arrows on his card. “Ye didnae… want tae talk about anythin’ else?”

“Is there anything else?” The Doctor looked up from his cards, eyes narrowed in concern. “If there’s something you want to talk about -”

“No, no.” He was certainly acting even more oddly than usual, Jamie thought. Something particularly strange was going on. The Doctor had gone back to searching for something, this time down the sides of the sofa. “I just – I wondered if ye were goin’ tae tell me ye didnae want me around anymore.”

That made the Doctor drop his cards entirely. “Why on Earth would I want to tell you that?”

“Och, I don’t know. I just wondered, that’s all.”

“Jamie...” Shifting himself forwards to kneel on the floor, the Doctor reached across the table between them to press his hands over Jamie’s cheeks. The strangeness of it forced a short chuckle out of Jamie, but the Doctor’s face was so serious that it quietened him. His fingers were cold against Jamie’s skin, and he cradled him like he was something precious, and the feeling settled itself into Jamie’s bones and into the back of his throat. He wanted to press his hands over the Doctor’s, to hold him there and never have him let go, but he found himself frozen in place with terror at the thought of doing any such thing. “Jamie, I have very much enjoyed your company these past few weeks,” the Doctor was saying. At any other time, hearing those words would have made Jamie’s heart leap, but now he was almost too distracted to hear them. “And I would never ask you to leave unless you wanted to.” He tucked his upper lip inwards, chewing on the back of it. “That is – unless – you were saying that you wanted to leave.”

“No!” Jamie exclaimed. The Doctor jerked back with the shock of it, and he found himself unfrozen, hands shooting up to hold onto the Doctor’s as he had imagined. “No, I don’t want to – I’m happy, here. With you.”

“Well.” Their eyes locked for just a moment too long, and the feeling that had come over Jamie was no longer settled but burning under his skin. “Well, then. I’m very glad about that.”

“Aye. Me too.”

Slowly, the Doctor drew his hand out from beneath Jamie’s, reaching behind his ear. His fingers brushed against his hair, and if Jamie had not felt like he was burning before, he was entirely ablaze now, cheeks red and mind emptied out and filled with static - “Your card, I believe.”

Blinking, he saw that the Doctor was holding out a card in front of him, and he reached up instinctively towards the back of his head, as if he could pull one out from there himself. “Ye were practicin’ magic tricks?”

“Well -” The Doctor ducked away from him, smiling coyly. “Perhaps I was.”

“Ye were just usin’ me tae practice.”

“Not entirely,” the Doctor protested. “I really did want to talk to you. But is it the card you took from me?”

Grinning, Jamie held up the card he had picked earlier. The two cards swayed side by side as his hand bumped against the Doctor’s, arrows against hearts, red against black. “No.”

[princessamericachavez]

No dream comes true until you're left hanging by a thread

It’s not the first time he dies at sea, but it feels different. Last time, death felt only like one more waste, a stark reminder of how dull and irrelevant his life had been. He knew the second darkness swallowed him that his passing would matter little to anyone but himself. It’s not like that now. He has so much he wants to accomplish, so much to live for, so many people that genuinely love him, that it makes death taste far more unfair. He loves his life now, doesn’t want to be ripped away from it.

He doesn’t wake up alone and confused this time, either. A chorus of friendly faces welcomes him back to the land of the living with concerned eyes and relieved smiles. Fjord finds himself in the middle of this little family that he’s made for himself and realizes that there’s no dark deal this time, just people who love him and want him around asking nothing in exchange. 

It not being his first time, Fjord tries to brush the incident off lightly. With the help of Caduceus, he gets on his feet and after reassuring everyone else he goes to Orly who is just going through the same process thanks to Jester’s magic. The tortoise is equally pragmatic but looks worse for wear in a way that makes Fjord feel a pang of guilt. 

It’s his fault that anyone got hurt. They were here for him.

He sends Orly to bed and tasks Marius and Beau with rallying the crew, making sure everyone is alright and the ship able to go on with their mission.

“Watches would probably be a good idea, too,” he sighs, heavily. “I can take the first one.”

“Absolutely not,” Caleb cuts in. 

“You need to rest,” Caduceus nods. “I can take a watch.”

“I’ll join you,” Yasha murmurs.

There’s more darkness than usual in everyone’s voices, righteous anger on his behalf that makes his chest twist. Begrudgingly, he accepts their demands that he rest and half an hour after being murdered he finds himself back in the captain’s quarters.

Fjord takes his time drying the floor with the monstrous figure had dripped, changes the bloodied sheets and cleans himself, but eventually, he runs out of distractions. Laying on the bed, he stares at the ceiling waiting for a sleep that doesn’t come. He fears the nightmares that might come the second his eyes close and the dangers that can haunt him in the real world while he lays there vulnerable.

Because he’s not sleeping, the corner of his eye catches the door moving as a dark figure peeks in. He jumps to his feet and summons his sword to his hand.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” A familiar voice squeaks.

“Jester?”

“I’m sorry, I just- I thought you would be sleeping.”

“You were going to spy on me in my sleep?”

“I just wanted to check-in on you.”

“Oh.” Fjord frowns and moves to turn a light on.

As the darkness recedes, he sees Jester standing on the door frame, eyes still puffy and red from crying earlier. She balances her weight there, anxious and embarrassed and Fjord wants to kick himself for it. She was just worried.

“Do you wanna come in?” He offers.

“Uh, s-sure,” Jester hesitates a little before walking in and closing the door behind him. “Sorry, really, I just wanted to-”

“It’s alright, Jester.”

“It’s really not, though,” she grumbles as she crosses the room and takes a seat at the edge of his bed. 

 Fjord watches her move through his space with that casual ease and wonders if this is somehow inappropriate of them. His mind flies back to another time, sees himself walking through that very same door to find a very naked Avantika waiting for him. The meeting back then had been charged with danger and lies, quickly turning into a desperate attempt to regain control by him. There is none of that tension now, just Jester sitting there and pinning him with those sad violet eyes.

“You died, Fjord,” she finally says, voice small and wavery. 

He knew that already, but the way she says it makes it feel real for the first time. Fjord drops next to her on the bed with a heavy sigh.

“Yeah, I guess I did,” he mutters slowly, letting it sink in. “I- I’m alright now, though.”

“I’m sorry.”

Jester’s head is low, her eyes tearful as she looks at her hands. It’s like being stabbed in the chest again.

“Sorry?”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you faster, Fjord,” the words come out all at once, accompanied by tears. “I tried to!” Jester shakes her head. “But we were stuck down there and I couldn’t get around the guys attacking us and then I came up and you were just lying there and I couldn’t get to you. And I promised I would heal you if you were hurt but I couldn’t- I couldn’t do anything!”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Fjord cuts her off, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. He pulls her into a side-hug. He’s never been good with this physical touch thing, but the idea of letting her just cry like that without comforting her is unbearable. “Jester, hey, look at me,” he takes her chin in his hand, mirroring the way her God had comforted her before. “I’m alright, okay? None of this was your fault. Hell, I probably wouldn’t even be here without you.”

She nods, but he isn’t sure that she believes him.

“You saved my life, Jester.”

Slowly, she calms down. He doesn’t let go of her shoulders. 

“What are we gonna do now, Fjord?”

“I... don’t know,” he admits. “I’m at a loss here, I must admit. I guess we have to be more careful.”

“We need to find a way to get that thing out of you, Fjord, before they come back for it.”

“Yeah but I don’t know how to,” he lets out a dry laugh, overwhelmed. “I mean, I don’t even know if it’s possible, you know? Besides, we have to see these peace talks through first, it’s important for Beau, Caleb and Veth. And then you have you thing coming in. I don’t want to derail everyone’s lives again with my problems.”

Jester looks at him like he just said the most stupid thing in the seven seas.

“Fjord! Of course this is just as important, okay? Really, we all want you to be safe and if these dumb things come back we are going to be ready, alright? I- I can message Vandran again, ask him if he knows anything about this. Maybe he can tell us how he did to get away before! Or- or I can message Yussa, or Allura, or someone! We are going to find out how to get you out of these, okay?” She says, earnestly as she grabs his free hand in hers. Her eyes are still red-rimmed but he recognizes that unshakable resolve of hers in them. “I told you, Fjord, I will do anything to get you away from Uk’otoa, okay?”

His throat closes with tears. He tilts his head down to conceal the dampness gathering in his eyes. Fjord is overwhelmed by thankfulness for this woman’s sweetness, this girl who just gifted him life back and now is casually talking about fighting an ancient evil demigod for his sake. Some days —most days— he can’t believe she’s real at all. What did he ever do to deserve her friendship?

“Okay,” he finally says, once he finds his voice again. 

“Okay,” she agrees, softly, giving his hand one last squeeze before letting them go. 

Jester stands up and he immediately mourns the loss of her body by his side. 

“You should really get some sleep, Fjord,” she says, walking for the door. 

“Yeah, about that, uh,” he speaks quickly, nervously, “would you- would you mind terribly if I asked you to stay?”

Just making the request is harder than fighting the scariest monster. It makes him feel vulnerable and small and ridiculous, but this is Jester and he trusts her.

“You want me to stay the night with you, Fjord?” Her eyebrows wiggle, suggestively. 

Oh, gods.

“Just- just for a while, you don’t have to- I mean- not to do anything- I just. I... I can’t sleep.”

Whatever joke she’d been preparing, frizzles and dies in the tip of her tongue. He can see her face twist with something that once before he might have mistaken for pity but now knows to be kindness and compassion. 

“Of course, Fjord,” she smiles sweetly at him. “I’m still feeling a little nervous from the battle too, you know, so I was thinking about drawing for a little while for the Traveler. Maybe- you have a desk here, I could draw here while you sleep a little.”

“Just until I fall asleep,” he promises. He has no intention of keeping her up all night. After what she did for him and Orly, she must be exhausted.

Jester nods and quietly makes her way to the desk. Fjord wonders if he should say something more, but anything he could add right now seems useless. The conversation has left him exhausted. He lays back down on the bed and watches as she opens her notebook and carefully selects her pencils. She’s humming to herself and the sound soothes whatever was still rattled inside him.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he whispers, as his eyes begin to close. 

Behind half-closed lids, he can see how she turns to him and smiles. “I’m glad you’re here too, Fjord,” she says. He’s not sure if he imagined the way her voice cracked a little or how she quickly rubbed her cheek with the back of her hand. Sleep takes him swiftly. 

His dreams are quiet, which is why he hears the voices. Fjord’s first instinct is to jump and fight, but one of them is Jester and she sounds at ease. The other voice is familiar, too, though less welcomed. The Traveler. Fjord doesn’t move, he carefully keeps his breathing steady and listens. 

This is wrong, he shouldn’t be doing this, but he’s always been too curious for his own good. 

And he does not trust this man as far as he can throw him.

“Thank you for coming when you did,” Jester is saying, with that gentle fondness that for a while Fjord thought was reserved for him.

“Of course,” the fey replies, voice melodic and dangerous at the same time, “he might be an idiot, but he is important to you, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Then, that is enough for me.”

Fjord feels another pang of guilt. He really shouldn’t be spying. 

“Do you... do you think you can help us... with Uk’otoa?”

The fey hums. Fjord can picture him tilting his head, letting that stupid red mane spread across his shoulders.

“I do not know. I am afraid this creature is far more ancient than even me. However, I will be with you every step of the way. It should be fun.”

Fun?!

“Yeah, totally! It’s gonna be great when we finally kill it,” Jester agrees, cheerfully. 

Fjord thinks of the creature lurking in the darkness of his dreams. The idea of Jester facing that horror makes him nauseous. 

“But we have to figure out how to kill it,” she is still going on about it. 

“Well, there is always a way to achieve death. I believe I am owed some favors in other planes, one of them might be able to aid us in this new... mission of yours.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know people in many planes? Are you very famous there?”

“Certainly,” The Traveler replies proudly. 

Fjord knows a liar when he hears one.

“You’ll see. As soon as the Zenith has passed, I will have far more time to be with you. Ah, delicious freedom! And then, you and I can go and explore all these fun worlds together.”

What.

“Yes, it’s going to be so great!”

Jester’s leaving?

“Alright, then. Now, you better rest. You did very well tonight, my priestess. I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks.”

“I will watch over your half-orcs dreams for now.”

After a few moments, Fjord hears Jester move across the room and leave. He waits still for a couple minutes before finally daring to open his eyes. The room is empty. He grapples with what he just eavesdropped in. It’s like being stabbed through the chest all over again.

Fuck.

[evoedbd]

Reunions

Summery -  10 years after their wedding, Aurora and Lucy go to finally have a family meeting with Lucy's parents, Brad and Susan Kim. Between Brad's evident dislike, Susan's desperation to impress and Aurora's remarkable ability to hold a grudge, Lucy finds herself in what might be the most awkward situation of her life. As for mixing her families, it goes about as well as expected. **************************************************** She was an intimidating silhouette against the soft cream boards of the house. In contrast, her skin seemed to gleam bronze in the afternoon sun, illuminating the shading of lightly defined arms. Aurora’s delicately angled jaw offset the sharpness of her chin, complimenting her slender lips, which were pursed in a dangerous line. She was exotically breathtaking in her broody, seething rage. High, fleet brows furrowed over almond shaped, amber eyes, which had darkened with focused resentment. Aurora stubbornly kept her glare fixated on the homely white door before her as if by willpower alone she could burn it to cinders. Her sharp yet feminine nose was tilted upwards, allowing Aurora to give the impression of looking down. A cat sizing up the mouse it was about to devour. “-Please don’t let this be a mistake. -“ Lucy silently prayed, lowering her hands to wipe her palms against the hem of her white sundress. It was elegant, lacy enough to betray her wealth yet simply cut. It was a v cut into her cleavage, offering a flirtatious view whilst preserving modesty. The dress ended at her knees, remaining light enough to be at home in suburban streets yet also worthy enough to enter any fancy restaurant. Aurora had dressed simply too, yet Lucy knew her better than any. The Mexican born woman was ready for war. Her simple grey tank top with LSBN across it was a statement, a challenge to Brad Kim’s religious sensitivities. Her casual jean booty shorts put her long, toned legs on display, along with several faint bruises and scrapes left there. Further provocation to the man’s views on women, and the fact she could likely snap his neck should he try to enforce them on his estranged daughter. Casual sneakers completed the look. Sensible shoes that wouldn’t hinder her movement. Aurora was already on the attack, waiting for a reason to unleash. “Go five minutes before you start on them. Then go easy. They’re out of practice.” Lucy teased gently, her painted lips pulling into one of her show stopping smiles. Every time Aurora saw that smile she felt the world become a little lighter, as if the goodness emanating from Lucy could wash the blood from her own hands. Could soothe the lifetime of agonising wounds she had suffered emotionally. Still, it was not enough to completely ease her. Not this time. How could she allow forgiveness? They’d allowed Lucy to be a target over and over again. Their love of stealing from the biggest fish in the Criminal Sea of LA had been a death threat looming over Lucy’s head until the Valentine Kidnapping. The start of the little lamb learning to survive the world her parents had thrown her into. “You don’t have to like them, Rory. Its ok to be angry. Just play nice... I have to do this.” Lucy couldn’t speak further. Ten years was a long time for wounds to heal, but the cut of her parent’s numerous betrayals remained. The nerves were still raw, the gash still bleeding. Aurora was the one constantly bandaging it. Gentle words and gentler hands trying to mend the wound together even as the healer herself still bled out. Didn’t have to like them was polite. Both women knew it. Not even Lucy’s most alluring, radiant smile and the grandest promises of the world could make Aurora James LIKE the Kims. Professionally, they owed her millions, putting it lightly. Personally, they owed her blood. First, they had attacked the Valentine’s little lamb. That was a personal insult to Aurora. They’d gone further by bringing Skylar in, another person who had tried to take the little lamb away. Using Stella was the final straw. They’d used HER daughter to try and harm theirs. That was the sickly icing on a cake that Aurora wanted to dissolve in acid then toss to the bottom of the Challenger’s Deep. It was only Lucy’s word and presence that kept Aurora from revisiting her criminal days... that allowed her to lend them the very house their daughter had almost been murdered in. That was her sweet satisfaction. Her sickly revenge against the recently released pensioner criminals. That they lived under her roof, right in the nest of their worst crime. “I know, baby girl.” Aurora sighed, offering a pained flicker of a smile at the agony in storm cloud eyes. Even after all the years, the hurt was there. She saw it flash in Lucy’s eyes often, an ache that echoed in Stella and Daisy’s eyes too. A wound that even lingered in Aurora’s own heart. Parental abandonment was probably not the healthiest bonding tool. “The fact they just left. When I think about what could have happened if...” Aurora trailed off, her honeyed voice lowered to almost a whisper. She knew. All too well. The Valentines had been the only gang who didn’t want to harm the family. Kidnapping Lucy for her own protection sounded insane, but Rory knew better than any that the millions of stolen dollars would drive many men to further insanity. Memories of broken glass consumed her, accompanied by the panicked screams she often heard when Lucy woke from her nightmares. Even now, the very real possibility of the brutality Lucy had been abandoned to made Rory shiver. It physically hurt Aurora’s chest when she imagined a world where her brothers had been too late in saving her little lamb. Where they found the dead body of a beaten, violated young woman laying amidst the broken glass table. Aurora ground her teeth as her arms wrapped around the little lamb, squeezing tightly. For three precious seconds, everything in Aurora’s body redirected into her embrace. Lucy was at home, encompassed in strength and warmth along with the cocktail of lotions that made up the undeniably unique scent of Aurora. Even though Aurora had lost some condition over the years and had gained more laugh lines, Lucy still felt safe. The breath left her lungs at how tightly Aurora squeezed, trembling before her entire body deflated in an exhale. The tension relaxed, shifting from crushing to firm as Aurora’s forehead fell against Lucy’s collar, nose resting snugly in Lucy’s cleavage. “We could buy a stress ball if you need one, Rory.” Lucy pointed out with a fond smile. These moments weren’t uncommon. Where Aurora just needed to squeeze and relax. Have a place to be vulnerable. Of course, the fact she had chosen to nestle between Lucy’s tits wasn’t lost on the younger blonde. A mixed sentiment of lust and love. Close to her heart, yet also somewhere often jealously claimed. “You’re better.” Aurora’s response was predictably muffled, allowing her lips to dance across the exposed flesh between the cut of the dress. Lucy felt Aurora nestle closer, squishing her nose in her desperation for closeness. Rory could feel the warmth of Lucy’s flesh, could smell the mix of sweat and perfume that had become home. She couldn’t help but nuzzle closer, needing to express her affection less she burst. The emotional motorboat was enough to earn a soft chuckle from Lucy, who wrapped her arms around Aurora’s waist. Feeling the guns tucked into Rory’s belt was no surprise, in fact it was another familiar comfort. Lucy herself normally had one or two in her handbag. The blonde tilted her head forwards to press her lips to the crown of Aurora’s head. After planting a loving kiss, Lucy inhaled quietly. Chocolate locks and a delicious scent flooded Lucy’s senses, distracting her enough that the hands squeezing her butt were a shock. It was a playful move, lacking the heat that Aurora brought to more physically intimate encounters. It was at that time the door swung open. “-Just my luck-“ Lucy silently lamented, her stormy eyes hardening in determination as they met her father’s disapproving glare. “Dad. It is not what you think-“Lucy began, lifting a hand in a calming gesture. “It looks like this criminal is molesting my daughter on my own doorstep.” Brad’s response was harsh, the words spat through his teeth as he fixated his intense rage on Aurora. The Mexican born woman barely even shrugged at the stare, immune to the effects of a disapproving father. After all, she had faced down Franco Valentine countless times for Lucy’s sake in that same shirt. A washed-out scam-artist who had fallen victim to kicks from those comfy sneakers was hardly a fair comparison to a former crime lord. A blimp on the radar compared to the lethal men Aurora had grown up with. “Trust me, if I were behaving indecently then you would hear. Lucy is very vocal.” Aurora’s response was delivered in her syrupy sweet tone, matching the devastating smile she offered as she lifted her face from Lucy’s chest. A small glint in her amber eyes was the only warning Lucy got before the hands around her rump tightened, earning a startled squeak. This squeeze was lust, a silent warning from Rory to Brad as she used her grip to pull Lucy closer. “Rory! Not in front of my parents!” Lucy laughed awkwardly as she swatted Aurora’s shoulder. Caramel muscles flexed under Lucy’s hand, inviting her to linger. She knew she should be cross, should ark up at the intentional wordplay she knew Aurora wouldn’t stop. The disrespect. Lucy couldn’t find it in herself to be mad, not yet. There was something satisfying about watching her father’s jaw click shut as his eyes burned with fury. He couldn’t prove Aurora was deliberately revving him up, so he also couldn’t respond. Aurora outclassed him in the ways of wordplay and wit. Aurora outclassed him period. “Well, Lucy was always stubborn, even as a little girl.” Susan’s voice came from behind Brad as the woman stepped outside, opening her arms instinctively. Lucy moved without thinking, striding forwards to meet her mother with a one-armed embrace. There was a suspicious tension in their muscles, a stiffness born of years apart. The gesture was old, uncomfortable despite the natural instinct. It was warm though, a blanket around the shoulders of a young girl who fell asleep studying. The security after teenage heartbreak. The safety net after exams and pregnancy scares, or the of sleepless nights when Lucy had been sick. It held so many positive memories, moments where a mother’s embrace had been the foundation a determined, sweet young woman had dragged herself to college on. “I know. Lucy is as smart as she is determined. Nobody could force her to do anybody she didn’t want to.” Aurora preened with pride and affection, yet Lucy noted the words used. Another verbal slap. Aurora didn’t try to draw Lucy from her mother, yet she did keep their hands linked. That hand was Lucy’s world. Soft delights and sleepless nights where love and intimacy had been more important. The security of waking up tangled together, of a morning kiss without a care for their breath. The warmth of a lazy few moments to appreciate each other, or arms wrapped around each other as they worked. Between their fingers was metal. A wedding band. Their promise of forever, regardless what anyone might have said. The walls torn down; foundations ripped asunder to recreate a foundation together. Something built on the best they both could be. “Mom, Dad. I’d like to officially introduce you to my wife, Aurora. Rory, this is my mother, Susan, and my father, Brad.” Lucy kindly introduced, continuing to smile as she stepped back into Aurora’s arms. Instantly, the Hustler draped her arm around Lucy’s shoulder, pulling the blonde into her embrace. The smile Aurora offered could only be described as predatory. Sickly sweet and syrupy, the same smile she had offered when she shook hands with the criminals who had kidnapped her daughter. The same smile when she had been blackmailed into kissing Skylar for her daughter’s life, only to bite straight through her lip. The smile when she had slowly yet methodically broken the fingers of the hitman sent for their oldest. “You can call me AJ.” Aurora’s tone was sweet, yet it took all of Lucy’s skill not to cringe. AJ. Business associate. A brief tool. Someone fucked but never trusted. Or someone she might kill. Oh, Aurora was setting them straight. What was worse, if they had done enough homework they may be able to guess part of her evident threat. But if not, then she was disarming them already. The methodical Hustler was at work. It was enough to make Lucy shiver. Aurora could be terrifying. She could calmly break bones at a snail’s pace or grill a woman’s hand without even a blink at the smell of burnt flesh. She was devious enough to pick apart crime lords while heavily intoxicated for laughs. But oh, it was a treat to watch Aurora work. She was an artist, a master of her craft. There was something undeniably alluring about her raw power, especially when she applied it to give a clear message. When it was used to defend her family. “Well, miss James-“ “Mrs James. Aurora is legally married with two children, Dad. As am I.” Lucy corrected, tilting her head to rest against the bare shoulder beside her. Aurora’s lithe muscles seemed to relax at the touch, taking confidence in the security of Lucy in her arms. That confidence never wavered as Lucy’s hand crept up her lower back, soft fingers stroking the bare skin there for a second before lightly pulling at her shirt. “Well Aurora, Lucy. Why don’t you come inside? I have some tea ready with fresh cookies... remember we baked them when you were younger, Lucy?” Susan stepped in, her voice going a subtle octave higher. The older woman was a flutter of nervous energy, glowing with hope at the chance. “Oh! Rory they are amazing, you’ll love them!” Lucy was giddy, leaning up to press her lips several times to Aurora’s cheek in delight. The kisses were chaste, mixed with little nuzzles as she worked her lips to Aurora’s ear. “And you’re flashing more guns than your biceps.” Lucy’s whisper was obscured in Aurora’s hair, her lips concealed from view. The shorter woman tugged on the Ex Hustler’s shirt, peeling the soft grey cotton over the chlorine stained denim and the contraband weapons. “Well, you know how I love sweet things. Lucy has really improved my diet since she came.” Aurora was calm, speaking without an ounce of shame as she tucked her hand behind her back. Lucy’s cheeks flamed as Rory grasped her hand, tugging it down until the soft cotton changed to denim beneath her touch. A hard shape lingered under the denim, firm beneath Lucy’s palm as she allowed her hand to be guided. She felt the outlines down Rory’s rump, wrapped around her hips. It was enough to daze the poor blonde, as well as concern her. Was Aurora packing more heat than the gun Lucy had already found? “-What weapons could Rory have in shorts that ti- nevermind... I don’t need to know. -“ Lucy had to focus on not blushing at the thought of how and what Aurora may be smuggling. The mere knowledge Aurora was playing with her parents was enough to cause a confused flush to begin throughout her body. She enjoyed Rory’s not so subtle shows of power at her parents’ expense. The thought of what might come next was enough to make her heart beat faster in anticipation. What kind of daughter was she to find enjoyment in her parent’s discomfort? “Oh, has Lucy cooked for you then? She is rather talented in the kitchen. University really helped her mature.” Susan’s voice lured Lucy out of her tunnel focus. Her mother seemed cheerful, even though her dark eyes often shifted to Brad. The man remained silent, glaring at Aurora as if he could banish her from existence. “Lucy has cooked for the gang; however, I’d say I’m the only one to have experienced her full range of talents. Her taste is impeccable.” “Stop it.” Lucy said it bashfully, her cheeks glowing as she leaned into Rory. For the casual onlooker, it may seem pleased, enjoyment at the praise. Only Aurora could feel the nails digging into her behind, the firm pressure that was silently warning her to pull her head in. Of course, Aurora didn’t seem chastised. Amber eyes lit up for a split second, gleaming in their mischievous manner that left Lucy on edge. It was that same gleam Rory got when she had won, but the game was still afoot. The enjoyment of tormenting the mouse in her claws. It was a smile that promised she was only going to escalate her innuendos and barbed words as the day went on. “-Oh dear lord.-“ Lucy lamented as her parents awkwardly parted, begrudgingly allowing Lucy and Aurora to step through the open door. “-I’ve made a horrible mistake.-“

[yeenybeanies]

A Bad Dream

i’ve loved bloodborne for years now, & just recently actually started playing it ( never mind that it’s kicking my ass ). hence some inspo to write a lil bit with it :> 

a hunter ( bloodborne ) & borrower reader ( 2nd person pov ) 

1492 words

mild language warning

feel free to leave comments in the tags!! thank you!!

There’s a chill in the air. Normally that wouldn’t be unusual, but you can tell––something in the setting sun and the rising moon that you can’t quite place, but you can feel it in your guts and bones and under your skin––that this night is different. It is something sinister. Evil? Perhaps. You aren’t sure. 

The moon looks far bigger tonight than it ever had––at least, you think it does. Has the moon always been so big? So bright? The streets of Yharnam, too, go quiet early on. Maybe the Yharnamites sense it too, whatever it was, and have taken to holing up in their homes for the night. You think you should do the same; tonight does not seem like a night for a borrower to be out. 

Those thoughts resonate stronger as you make your way through the streets, hugging the walls and curbs and whatever shelter you can find. Activity starts to pick up again; though still empty of people, monstrosities––gross, grotesque, twisted figures––now roam about, dragging their dirty rifles and pitchforks and cleavers behind them. Normal Yharnamites are to be avoided as is, but these? You want nothing to do with these. You don’t even know what these are––if they even are Yharnamites. You’ve never seen such disfigured, beastly–––

The Hunt. 

The Hunt. 

Tonight is the night of the hunt. Tonight! Of all nights! Oh, tonight you’ve wandered far from your home, and tonight is the night of the hunt! Realization runs through you, and you feel like your veins have suddenly been filled with ice. You shiver, too, your body afflicted with a chill both metaphorical and literal. 

No, no, no. You need to get home now. It is not safe to be outside in the Hunt. 

Fear keeps you shaking, but alert. You make your way through the streets as best you can, sprinting between bits of cover whenever you see an opportunity to do so. It’s utterly terrifying, seeing all the beasts, so big and horrible, wandering about. Mangey dogs, semi-grounded crows, brick and statue-wielding trolls, massive fucking pigs––oh! So many beasts. And so many of them still would make a quick snack out of a little borrower like you if given half the chance, you imagine. A part of you considers sneaking into one of the homes, if only for the night, to take refuge from the Hunt. 

Somewhere behind you, you hear shouting and commotion. It sounds like fighting. Oh no, that is not something you want any part of. You hold your bag closer to yourself and prepare to run, but the noise quickly grows nearer and stills you. No, whoever’s fighting is too close, and the next hiding spot is too far. You have to wait for things to quiet down before you’re willing to risk moving. 

That is, until you hear a low, throaty growl. You whirl around, damn-near jumping out of your skin. The snarl of a grizzly, worse-for-wear dog meets you, its lips pulled back to show its mouthful of twisted teeth. Horror overwhelms you; you act before you can think and run, your legs carrying you as quickly as they can out into the street. The dog’s snarls and barks and thundering paws ring in your ears. There is no way you are going to outrun this thing! Oh, it’s going to snap you up in its horrible mouth and tear you apart and swallow you down while you’re still alive and–––! 

And you trip. 

You fall forward, and quickly flip yourself over to face the beast, arms held up in vain to shield your face. Eyes squeezed shut, you brace yourself for your final, painful moments. You hear the dog growl, and then–––

And then you hear the dog shriek, and fall bodily to the brick road. You peek out between your shaking arms, eyes wide, and see the beast on the ground, dead, with a massive saw . . . thing sticking out of its head. You blink, stunned, watching the filthy blood gush from the wound, but you don’t get long to process what’s just happened. A masked man stands over the dog, boot pressed into its back, and yanks the weapon from its corpse. Red flies from the blade, some of it splattering onto you. You must have squeaked or flinched too hard; the man’s head snaps towards you. He sees you. Your whole body shakes. He just . . . stares. 

You don’t know how long you two sit there staring at each other. The massive man’s dark garments are soaked and slicked with blood. His weapon is in a similar condition, dripping all over the soiled street. There’s something strange about him. You can’t see much of his face, but he doesn’t appear to be disfigured like the other beasts of the night. 

Maybe he isn’t a beast at all. 

“ Y-you . . . are you . . . a Hunter? ”  Your voice squeaks and shakes. You don’t think he’s heard you, but he nods his head after a moment more of staring. 

From behind him, there’s more commotion. You flinch. He looks over his shoulder, and then back at you. He doesn’t seem to be much for words, but he holds up his free hand, gesturing for you to wait. His weapon shifts with a loud snap, he pulls a firearm from his back, and then he runs off towards the noise. 

Whether you intend to or not, you do stay. Time doesn’t register; your mind goes into a haze, and the Hunter is back before you know it. His garments drip with fresh blood, very menacing. You’ve barely moved since meeting him, but you do shake yourself out of it when he crouches down before you. Scared and feeling very vulnerable, you try to scramble backwards, away from him.

“ Mr. Hunter, I––no, please––! ”  He holsters both his firearm and his blade, and reaches for you with one gloved hand. Your plea stills him for a moment, but doesn’t deter him fully; those fingers wrap around your middle and lift you from the ground. You squirm and try to pull yourself free, your tiny hands pushing at his thumb, but it’s all to no avail.  “ Please! I only want to get home! It-it isn’t safe out here! ”  

To your surprise, the Hunter’s grip loosens until he holds you cupped in both of his hands. You look to the wall of fingers behind you, then back up to the hunter’s masked face. There is no malice in his eyes that you can see. It looks more like concern, compassion, to you. He stands, effort clearly made to keep from jostling you, though it has limited success. You whimper and brace yourself against his palm, head ducked. 

“ I will keep you safe. ”  Hearing his voice makes you look up to him again, eyes wide. It’s gentle, whispered, more on the deeper side from what you can tell. Your first instinct is to say no, to reject his help and carry on through the beast-filled streets on your own, but it takes only a moment to rationalize how truly stupid of an idea that is. This man––this man here who holds your body and life in his hands––is a Hunter. He is the one thing right now that stands between you and the night’s monstrosities, and he is a Hunter of beasts. 

You curl up, bringing your knees to your chest, and bury your head into your arms. Okay. He is your best chance at survival. You . . . have to go with him. Face still hidden, you nod in slow agreement. He . . . whether he sought it or not, has your permission to guard you. 

His hands shift so you sit in his left, leaving his right free to pull the collar of his scarf. Of course: he’ll need both hands to continue his hunt. You still shiver, but you crawl to his fingertips as he brings you near to the opening and climb in. It isn’t the most comfortable or ideal of spots, but you settle yourself into the tough fabric, making a sort of hammock. At least it’s warm. The Hunter’s breathing and heart beat are loud, but the rhythm of it all is sort of soothing. He can’t see you well here, so you pat at his neck, telling him that you’re . . . well, you’re about as secure as you’re going to get. The Hunter nods in return, and pulls out his weapons, readying himself once more for the journey ahead. As soon as he starts to run, you lurch and scrabble for better purchase, realizing that this night is going to be long, bumpy, and likely blood-soaked. 

Oh Great Ones be with you, and may you survive to see tomorrow . . .. 

[kunstpause-archive]

5 Questions for Writers

I got tagged by @elveny and looking at this I don’t even know where to start ? Let’s see if we can make a coherent post out of this

Tagging @curiousthimble, @midnightprelude, @captainderyn, @cornfedcryptid,  @elfyourmother​, @defira85, @edencalder @anchanted-one @tishinada @illegiblewords and anyone else who wants to do it - I’d love to see people’s answers but no pressure to anyone.

1. Do you have a favorite character to write? Who and why?

2. Do you have a favorite trope to write? Or one you want to write?

3. Share your favorite description you’ve written?

4. Share your favorite dialogue you’ve written?

5. Scene you haven’t written, but want to?

1. Do you have a favorite character to write? Who and why?

Of the ones I've written more for probably Aren Surana. I love all my characters to pieces and I always enjoy writing for Cassia or Amara - but Aren is closest to my heart and the things I want to express through writing her are some of the most important to me. Aren is autistic and shares pretty much all of those traits with me and it is very important to me to share her story and her perspective on things with others - and hopefully make the one or other person understand some things in the process.

That said Cassia is probably a close second place - writing her struggle with depression and working through it with familial support was something quite liberating. 

And lately there is Althea, my FFXIV OC which I have not yet published anything about but I’ve been writing a few bits and pieces for her and she is rapidly growing into a character I really enjoy writing.

The rest got longish, so under the cut it goes.

2. Do you have a favorite trope to write? Or one you want to write?

I love lighthearted miscommunication and I absolutely love writing more humerous things. My DA2 coffee shop AU was just pure fun to write. 

I also really enjoy a lot of the classic tropes from “there is only one bed!” to “we need to make out to hide from the bad guys”.

Also I found out through my fictober project with @elveny that I am enjoying the occasional writing of horror-themed things. (Those are all intentionally bad endings, so skip this if that is something that’s not good for you please.)

I wrote a so far unpublished “magic made them do it” story for DA2 which was also quite fun and I am currently in the middle of an enemies-to-lovers-to-weird-allies thing for Althea.

3. Share your favorite description you’ve written?

from my so far not published enemies-to-lovers thing for FFXIV:

He was the living embodiment of all that she hated about herself. The cold distance, the numbness, the utter boredom at the mundane, the miserable existence without a challenge… but something more dangerous somehow. 

A mirror of her undesirable traits would have been something she could have ignored but at the same time he managed to be almost everything she so desperately yearned to be. Unbound by the expectations of those around him, the freedom and single mindedness to follow his heart’s desire and the wild abandon with which he carried himself… He was everything she loathed and all that she wanted for herself at the same time. 

And he had the audacity to laugh at her.

This bit from a Divinity Original Sin 2 ficlet Fractured:

Amadia was there through it all, holding and soothing. Speaking soft words of consolation and compassion. Her old heart slightly breaking as she did all she could to help him hold on. On nights like these she looked at him with heavy thoughts. He had lost so much, endured so much. And yet she thanked all the powers still around her that at least for the moment he was still unaware of just how much. His beautiful, fractured mind saving him, holding back the greatest pain, the sharpest memories. She had done her best to shield him from his own past. Every time she could feel him push at his memories, trying to regain the last puzzle pieces she had woven images around them, pulling them just out of reach. Even with all the strength he had gained, all the power he had learned to master so far, Amadia was determined. Determined to keep him whole and away from the what would surely tear him apart if she didn’t intervene. She needed him whole after all. At least for a little while longer. And so she kept holding him, comforting him the only way she could.

“Rest now, my child. Lay down your burden and let me keep watch over you, my dear, dear child." She could feel his mind relax and starting to drift. Away from the memories, the past, the truth. Lulled by her warmth and her words. One more night where he would be unaware, that those words had once been his own.

And I am very partial to this nsfw bit - Bull trying to distract Amara from the murder happening in Halamshiral

Cold stone against her skin as she was roughly turned around and pressed against it. More clothes carelessly pushed aside. A bruising grip on her hip pushing her into place. When the first sharp sting of pain on her thighs went through her she let out a relieved sob, pushing back against his hands, her whole body pleading for him to continue. This was what she had wanted. Needed. And he gave it to her. Again and again until she could think of nothing else but his hands on her flesh and his voice in her ear.

She had lost all sense of time when he turned her around again, lifting her up enough to enter her in one swift and fluid motion. No matter the amount of pain, she was dripping wet for him, her body reacting instinctively to his touch, rough and forceful as it was. His pace was ruthless. Unforgiving he pushed her into the wall again and again. She felt the pleasure building up, growing with every sharp thrust until it was almost bursting when her heart dropped. 

The music.

It had stopped.

For a second her eyes went searching in the direction of the lights. Head turning. Were those screams she heard or was it imagination?

Bull’s hands closed around her, covering her ears almost entirely as he turned her head back, forcing her to look at him instead. “Don’t listen!” His words were a low grumble but somehow sounded like both, an order and a plea at the same time. He pushed into her faster, his iron grip around her not letting her move even the smallest bit as he pushed her over the edge and she came with a soundless cry on her lips.

Amara’s eyes had fallen shut, the only sound she could hear being the noise of her own blood rushing through her ears. Again she lost track of time, feeling almost like she was floating in his arms. When she finally opened her eyes again Bull was looking at her with so much love and determination on his face she felt something warm in her chest. It was small. Just a spark. But something she was almost desperate to hold on to. She could also see the worry written all over his face and she sighed deeply, before kissing him softly. “Let’s get out of here. Leave for Skyhold right away,” she mumbled against his lips. She closed her eyes again, her forehead against his as she felt the relief running through both of them when he agreed without second thought.

4. Share your favorite dialogue you’ve written?

this bit from a Hands of Fate related one shot about DAI times:

“I can’t believe Varric wrote a book about me,” Cassia muttered under her breath. “I don’t even know if I should be flattered or extremely embarrassed.”

“I would go with flattered and avoid ever reading it,” Dorian suggested with a wink. 

“Oh definitely!” Josephine agreed. “Don’t read it.”

“Ever.” Cassandra’s dry voice added shortly. Bull still didn’t say anything but he was visibly amused by everything that happened.

“So you’ve all read it then?” Dread was on Cassia’s face. “How bad is it?” She eyed the book as if it was a particularly nasty dish she had to eat.

“Not that bad!” Josephine was quick to say. “Really, come to think of it, it is barely worth mentioning.” Cassandra and Dorian nodded eagerly. 

“Well, in my defence I actually haven’t read it, I just skipped through the highlights where Josephine had folded the pages.” Dorian was grinning madly at Josephine’s embarrassed squeak. “I must say Ambassador, I am impressed! I did not expect this from you.” 

Cassandra tried to save the situation with a last desperate attempt. “There seems to be a lot of... artistic freedom in the book,” she tried to assure Cassia. “Things so obviously outlandish that no one will ever think those actually happened.”

Somehow this had the opposite of a calming effect on Cassia. With a very sceptical look she stared the Seeker down. “Really? Like what?”

For the next few seconds Cassia got to experience something that most people believed was absolutely impossible and could never occur. But at a loss for words Cassandra seemed to actually squirm in her seat. “Like, uhm… like…” 

“Like the scene in the chantry!” Josephine helped her out and Cassandra nodded thankfully. 

“Yes, like that one! Something so ridiculous… No one in their right mind would actually believe that actually happened,” she explained eagerly, obviously hoping to put Cassia’s worries to rest.

“Chantry?” was all Cassia got out, feeling her throat closing up. 

“Page 225 onward,” Dorian supplied helpfully and quickly moved aside, barely escaping another kick from Cassandra.

Almost mechanical Cassia turned the book to the page he mentioned and glossed over it. The little voice that had told her ‘the scene in the chantry’ could mean all sorts of things died a tragically painful death as soon as she had started to read. She felt her cheeks flaming up. “Crap!” she whispered. “He is going to kill me.”

5. Scene you haven’t written, but want to?

The last scene of my enemies to lovers thingy - it’s what started the whole idea and I have it in my head but I am not going to write it until I wrote the bits before.

Also I have so many headcanons about Ascians I need to write some scenes at some point. Just to get it out there.

Certain scenes from the sequel to Hands of Fate are also high on my list of things I look forward to write. But I am forcing myself to write things chronologically bc otherwise I will never get done with the re-edits.

And there is a Heavensward friends-with-benefits ot3 scene I have had in mind for a while. Some day.