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captainswanapproved · 2 years ago

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An Indecent Proposal-Chapter 17

A03,Prologue, Chapter 1,Chapter 2,Chapter 3, Chapter 4,Chapter 5,Chapter 6,Interlude,Chapter 7,Chapter 8,Chapter 9,Chapter 10,Chapter 11,Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16

Daemon x Rhaenyra Multichapter AU:

Daemon leaves Rhaenyra at her wedding feast. Rhaenyra marries Laenor. After a year of trying to do their duty and produce an heir, Rhaenyra writes to Daemon.

She needs a true Targaryen heir.

It only needs to be an arrangement of business, she says. And it would result in Daemon’s child one day taking the Iron Throne.

Daemon accepts the proposal and returns to court.

Only, ventures like these are never simple. As much as they would wish to, Daemon and Rhaenyra cannot let go of the past, or the feelings they once had for each other.

123 AC

“Drink more wine, my love, it will help you sleep,” Alicent said.

Viserys obeyed. “You take good care of me, my dearest,” Viserys said, leaning to kiss her.

Alicent tried not to recoil. The benefit of Rhaenyra and Daemon being away at Dragonstone was that it had given Alicent ample time to bring her husband back under her thrall. But this also meant that she had to bed him every night and endure his attentions during the waking hours as well. Yet, she had still not managed to become pregnant again.

Viserys finished his wine and she kissed him again before returning to her own chambers. She idly wondered how many years this poison would take to work its magic. By now she understood more of her father’s intentions, but he had still failed to reveal all his plans to her. She simply knew she had to keep Viserys on her side.

There was a letter waiting for her when she arrived in her chambers.

Daughter,

You have been doing well to take advantage of our enemies being away from court. But you must continue to pray to be blessed with child again. Your rival has six children, whilst you only have four.

Aegon and Aemond have been gathering the allegiance of sellswords in the North and in the Vale. I continue to send them gold so they can properly arm those interested in supporting our cause. Tyland Lannister has been procuring pilfering the funds from the royal treasury.

I have received information from Dragonstone that the boy, named Aegon, is nearly identical to his elder brother. Once they return to court, you can use this to spread doubt. If we can get Viserys to realize that Rhaenyra has given birth to five bastard children, he will surely dismiss Daemon as his Hand and make our Aegon his rightful heir.

Start spreading your whispers now.

Your Lord Father

Alicent burned the letter and cursed Rhaenyra as she did. She would punish that impudent bitch for naming stealing her son’s name.

Criston Cole appeared some time later, eager to do her bidding. He always was, so long as she spread her legs for him. Keeping him on her side demanded certain sacrifices. After their encounters, however, she drank moon tea. She would not produce another bastard. Though it did occur to her that continuing to sleep with Criston while taking moon tea could jeopardize her chances to have another child by Viserys. So she sent Ser Criston to spread her message throughout the Seven Kingdoms and return at the end of the year.

He gladly went after a swift coupling. She sent for her moon tea and swallowed it down. With him gone, she would be free to focus all her efforts upon Viserys.

***

When Daemon and Rhaenyra returned to King’s Landing, they received a grand welcoming feast. They presented Aegon the Younger to Viserys and the king declared him delightful.

The lords and ladies of Westeros congratulated them on their swift blessings. But they started whispering to one another when the proud parents turned their backs. Rumors about Rhaenyra’s children had started to circle again. And with Prince Aegon looking almost identical to his elder half-brother, well, suspicions were confirmed.

On their second night in King’s Landing, Jaela, their loyal and unofficial Mistress of Whisperers stole into the Red Keep and took the passage leading to Rhaenyra’s royal apartments.

The young woman was not so easily intimidated, but as she looked at the Princess and the Prince Consort, she felt certain she would be punished.

“Forgive me for disturbing you, Princess, My Prince. Only highly concerning rumors would compel me to do so.”

“Jaela, as always, we appreciate your service,” Rhaenyra said kindly. “Now please, say what you came to say.”

“Queen Alicent and her supporters are saying that Prince Daemon is the father of your children. She means to tell the king that they are bastards in hopes that he will confine you to Dragonstone and send Prince Daemon to the Wall.”

Daemon laughed and Jaela’s eyes widened.

“That will never work. That stupid bitch is growing desperate.”

“Prince Aegon the Younger does look exactly like Prince Jacaerys,” Jaela said. “That is compelling evidence to many in King’s Landing. The small folk, of course, care not, for the Queen does nothing to curry their favor. But the minor lords who are allied with House Hightower are a different story. And I have heard rumors that the Master of Coin himself believes the rumors.”

Daemon snorted. “I can deal with the Lannister cunt. He is bitter that Rhaenyra refused to betroth Jacaerys to his granddaughter.”

“Thank you for bringing these rumors to us, Jaela,” Rhaenyra said, crossing the room to a chest and removing several gold coins. She gave them to Jaela and sent her away.

She continued to pace, though, twisting the fabric of her skirt in her hands.

Daemon rose and put his hands on her shoulders. “Surely you don’t think your father will believe the rumors.”

“They are the truth,” Rhaenyra said.

“Yes, but when it comes to his family, my brother is blind.”

“His loyalty is divided. Do you know how often I’ve had to read about Alicent’s kindness in his recent letters. She has drawn him back to her side in our absence, pouring her honey in his ears.”

“By brother is a cunt struck old fool,” Daemon said.

“We have to circumvent this, Daemon. We should tell him the truth. He will legitimize them, and then it will not matter.”

“Do you think that wise?” Daemon asked. “We would lose the support of some of the Lords.”

“These Lords swore their fealty to me. If they break their vows when the time comes for me to take my throne, then I will simply burn them as traitors and offer their children an opportunity to bend the knee.”

Daemon kissed her, long and hard.

“What was that for?” Rhaenyra asked, a little breathless.

“I love it when you are ruthless.”

“You are a bad influence,” Rhaenyra said.

“Mmmmm, the worst,” Daemon agreed as he kissed her again, and they lost themselves in each other. After, though, Daemon said, “If you wish to tell Viserys the truth, I will not question your judgement.”

“All will be well, Daemon, and do not act as though you do not wish to publicly claim our children as your own.”

Daemon could not fault his wife for making such a claim. He was weary of his five eldest being addressed as Velaryons, no matter how much respect he had for Laenor.

***

“Lord Tyland Lannister is here to see you, Your Grace,” Ser Harrold said.

Viserys nodded and Ser Harrold opened the door. The Master of Coin entered the chamber and said, “Thank you for seeing me, Your Grace.”

“What is it, Lord Tyland?” Viserys said. His head was throbbing and his body was aching. His sleep continued to be plagued by discomfort.

“A most serious accusation has been heard from the mouths of many of your loyal lords and ladies. I am afraid in concerns Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon.”

“Tell me,” Viserys said, tiredly.

“Many believe that Ser Laenor was never the father of any of Princess Rhaenyra’s children. Prince Jacaerys and Prince Aegon look like brothers, not half-brothers.”

“Tread carefully, Lord Tyland. You are verging on treason.”

“I beg your pardon, Your Grace. I am simply reporting what I have heard from many of your subjects.”

“Daemon and Laenor are both of Velaryon blood. As is Rhaenyra. It is not shocking that her children by Laenor would resemble her child by Daemon.”

“But Your Grace, the Prince came to court and suddenly the Princess was with child. ”

“A mere coincidence. The gods work in mysterious ways.

“The Prince treats them as his own children.”

“As he should. Prince Daemon is now a father of six. It is natural for him to dote upon his stepchildren, who are in truth, his great nieces and nephews.”

“But—"

Viserys cut him off. “I will not entertain notions such as these, Lord Tyland. Now leave me in peace.”

The man seemed to lose his courage. He bowed and departed.

“Aemon, some more wine, if you please.”

The silver haired boy rushed to do his bidding. Viserys drank deeply, enjoying the burning sensation of the wine and its strangely sweet aftertaste.

However, he was not meant to have an afternoon of peace, because not an hour later, Rhaenyra and Daemon unceremoniously entered his chambers. Their hair and clothing was slightly mussed and rumpled.

“I am tired,” Viserys said. “We can speak tomorrow.”

“Father, this is important,” Rhaenyra said, her voice steely. She had grown so much in the past few years, becoming more queenly and commanding with every passing moon.

“Very well,” Viserys said, taking a chair beside the fire and gesturing for his daughter and brother to join him. “What is it you need to tell me?”

Rhaenyra faltered for a moment. Viserys watched as Daemon took her hand. She seemed to draw strength from this simple act. “King’s Landing is filled with vicious gossip and rumors, but on occasion, the naysayers stumble upon the truth. Daemon and I have been lying to you, Father.”

“You have? About what?”

Rhaenyra looked to Daemon, who nodded. Rhaenyra took a deep breath and said, “Ser Laenor was incapable of fathering children. We tried for a year to do our duty, and when that failed, I begged Daemon to return to court. He is the father of all my children.”

Viserys gaped at them. Neither expression bore any hint of shame or regret.

“You cannot be serious. Ser Laenor claimed them as his children. They have his features.”

“They have Valyrian features,” Rhaenyra corrected. “That is why I asked Daemon to father my heirs. After Alyssa and Jacaerys were born though, we already loved each other too much to to be parted. Laenor knew the truth. He carried on his own affair with Ser Qarl Correy. Unfortunately that ended in tragedy.”

“This cannot be,” Viserys said.

“It is true, Brother,” Daemon said, speaking for the first time. “But that does not change the fact that they are true Targaryens. The line of succession goes through Rhaenyra. It does not matter who her husband was. They are legitimate.”

“The realm will not see it that way.”

“Fuck the realm. You are the king. Defend your daughter and her children. Our children.”

“By doing what, exactly?”

“Naturalize them. The king’s word is law. Allow your grandchildren to take the Targaryen name. It is their birthright.”

“Please, Father. I know this is difficult to hear, but my children are innocent in all of this. They do not deserve to be the subject of vicious speculation.”

Viserys groaned. He could not believe that his family had been deceiving him for all these years. But his beloved grandchildren were innocent, and for all their flaws, he loved Daemon and Rhaenyra. Alicent would be furious. She would claim that Rhaenyra deserved to be punished.

But the blood of the dragon ran thick. After all he had done to hurt his brother and daughter over the years, he could not deny them this request. And hiding from the rumors would only make the consequences more difficult and dangerous.

“Very well,” Viserys said. “I will naturalize them all. It is my fault that you wed Laenor to begin with. Had I known then what I know now, I would have blessed your union.”

“Thank you, Father,” Rhaenyra said, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Daemon thanked him as well, though Viserys could see the words pained him.

“I do not require thanks for doing what is right. The House of the Dragon must stand strong. Now please, leave me to rest. We will need all our strength to face court tomorrow.”

***

“Muña, why do you look so concerned?” Alyssa asked.

“Remember the serious discussion we had at Dragonstone?”

Alyssa did remember. “Yes. Why?”

“The King knows the truth.”

“But he is our grandsire,” Alyssa said. “Won’t he protect us.”

“Yes, my little dragon, he will,” Daemon said, joining his family in the courtyard. “But you will have to be fierce and strong today.” This, he said to all of his children.

“Like you and Muña?” Alyssa asked.

Daemon nodded and kissed his daughter’s brow. “Yes. You will have to be an example to your siblings.”

Alyssa nodded, and straightened her ebony and scarlet gown. Then she surveyed each of her siblings. After a moment she said, “We are ready, Kepus.”

They filed into the throne room, heads held high, save for baby Aegon, who was being held by his mother.

Alyssa took note of how the amassed crowd surveyed them with intense expressions. Alyssa mimicked her mother’s proud, undaunted expression and took Jace’s hand. As always, her brother was her strength.

Their grandsire, King Viserys, sat on the Iron Throne, with Blackfyre in hand. His Green Queen stood to one side at the foot of the steps, an ugly expression on her pretty face. Alyssa recalled her father’s name for the woman, though the word was not ladylike.

Viserys stood and called for silence.

“I, Viserys Targaryen, First of His Name, King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm, welcome my grandchildren to the Red Keep.”

Alyssa raised her chin and caught her grandsire’s blazing eyes.

“Princess Alyssa Targaryen,” Viserys said. As she had been instructed, Alyssa approached the throne and knelt before the king.

“Prince Jacaerys Targaryen.” Jace followed suit.

“Prince Lucerys Targaryen.” Luke copied his brother, though appeared distinctly nervous.

“Princess Visenya Targaryen.” Visenya, bold and brash as her name sake, even at the young age of four, knelt before the king, her amethyst eyes blazing with pride.

“Prince Joffrey Targaryen.” Joffrey toddled up and joined his siblings.

“And finally, Prince Aegon Targaryen.”

Rhaenyra and Daemon joined the line of children.

“They are all true Princes and Princesses of the Realm. They are the blood of the dragon.”

And people in the hall began to applaud, though Alyssa noticed that not everyone appeared happy. Still, the court honored her and her siblings, and Alyssa knew that they would be treated as true born sons and daughters. She also knew, though, that those who disapproved of her mother would work to discredit them. She could tell by the grave expression on the Queen’s face, and her emerald green dress. Her children, Helaena and Daeron were dressed in green as well. It was such a stark contrast from the colors of House Targaryen that it had to mean something.

#daemon x rhaenyra #daemyra #hotd #hotd fanfic #hotd an indecent proposal #my writing

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punkscowardschampions · 4 months ago

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Jali

Ali: Is your brother okay?

Johnny: More or less

Ali: I didn’t know that convo would go so south so quick

Ali: are you with him?

Johnny: He’s under my eye, don’t worry yourself

Ali: I’m glad

Ali: the girl that was at his birthday, she’s not invited, you can tell him that if you think it’ll make him feel better

Johnny: I’ve told him I need help [fixing something he absolutely does not] but I’ll add about her on as we are

Ali: and we’re okay, aren’t we

Johnny: Do you remember what I said and stand by?

Ali: Yeah but

Ali: that was before I ruined everyone’s day with my stupid party idea, like

Johnny: No

Johnny: don’t talk about the girl I love like that

Ali: Johnny

Ali: you don’t want to come, do you?

Johnny: I can’t

Johnny: I’d come if I could

Ali: What if I invite loads of people, make it look like a free-for-all

Johnny: You can’t

Johnny: you’re behaving well under your mammy’s eye

Ali: I’ll miss you though

Ali: I’m trying to spend time with them all before we leave but I still spend most of the time thinking about you

Johnny: I dreamt of you again last night

Johnny: maybe I knew you’d be away from me this night

Ali: I’ve tried to read your mind before, to see what you’re dreaming

Ali: but you’re too handsome, I can’t focus to use my magic, you’ll have to tell me instead

Johnny: The crib was finished and painted and you lay a baby in it

Johnny: a name came to me

Ali: What are they called?

Johnny: It’s too soon to tell you, the crib’s not built and they’re not born

Ali: Oh, I see

Ali: secret between you two

Johnny: I’ll not know I’ve a son until he’s lay between us and my daughter won’t be given a boy name like my wife’s got

Ali: Hey, you like my name lots

Ali: and I like it all the more for how it looks on you and sounds from your mouth

Johnny: For being yours, I like all parts of you

Ali: I love you

Ali: you’re a good brother, you stood up for him

Johnny: Moses isn’t and the more he’s reminded, the more the rest are not to follow him on his crooked path leading nowhere good

Ali: Exactly, it made me proud of you, the way you are always does

Ali: at least Ronan does have you too, not just Moses

Johnny: I don’t know what’ll become of him, or of my brother and the babies, when we go

Ali: I wish there was a way to stay, I pray that there will be one

Johnny: I pray too, but that they’ll be alright for our going, it’s the only way

Ali: A better prayer

Ali: it’s for my own sake that I don’t want you to feel like I stole you away

Johnny: Stole does away with what you’re giving me

Ali: It’s everything for everything, and it’s mutual

Johnny: It’s for my own sake I have to leave with you, you know

Ali: I know, we’re leaving for us too

Ali: doesn’t make it easy, you don’t have to pretend with me

Johnny: Easy’s for 2nd sons or those like Moses, I’ve never had it be

Ali: It will be with me

Johnny: Will I gatecrash your little girl party?

Ali: You’ve not got caught seeing me every night since you got back

Johnny: Have you a costume for us?

Ali: A costume that you’ll like to see me in or a costume to hide you from everyone else?

Ali: because both, I can definitely make both happen 😁😁

Johnny: Both then

Ali: you’ll really come

Ali: and you’ll really let me dress you

Johnny: You’ve my word

Ali: and you’re not JUST coming to keep an eye on your brother

Ali: can be the first reason but I’ll be a bit offended if it’s the only, like

Johnny: He’d stay at my elbow, and with the convincing of an elder who don’t take much, his earned drink at our finish would turn into a lock in

Johnny: but I’ve got reason to make other plans

Ali: You’ve been away too much

Johnny: Your need to miss me has gone on too long

Ali: I’ll not have to be from you longer than that when we’re married

Ali: I can come with you on long jobs, can’t I

Johnny: Family men don’t take on long jobs, when we’re married you won’t have to worry yourself where I am

Ali: That makes sense

Ali: you know I trust you, I’ve never even considered otherwise

Johnny: You’ve knowing I’ll never give you cause not to, smart girl

Ali: Tell me why

Johnny: I’m committed to you

Ali: And you love me

Johnny: And I love you, Ali

Ali: I’m not used to hearing it yet

Ali: you’ll have to put up with me asking you to say it for a little bit longer, maybe forever

Johnny: Maybe I’ll say it more

Ali: I’ll earn it

Ali: not all my ideas are this bad

Johnny: You’ve earned what I’ve told you before about the no maybe in getting used to you, the idea it goes both ways can’t be bad

Johnny: your party neither or I wouldn’t come

Ali: If I woke up from bumping my head in the psych ward car park, I’d be crushed but maybe not surprised

Ali: everything about you is too good to be true

Johnny: Now I’ll have to crush you with my body ‘til you feel the weight of how true this is in my soul

Ali: You might get stuck to me

Ali: your name keeps opening up

Johnny: I might chain us to each other, you’ve given the chance with your good thinking

Ali: I really will swallow that key

Johnny: I’d let you without jealousy of it

Ali: You’ve no need of jealousy when it’s all about you

Johnny: I’ve some for that key being inside you but it’s for the good so’s we can’t be pulled apart

Ali: I’ll just have to find us a corner of my house you’ve not seen yet and you can be

Ali: that’s why this is a costume party

Johnny: Only you’d recognise us anywhere and you mean to prove it

Ali: Yeah

Ali: in every life too, I told you, I know you

Johnny: I remember all you tell me

Ali: I know, I talk too much

Ali: but you’re the only one I listen to

Johnny: Your talk’s company for me

Johnny: he’s stubborn in his silence

Ali: Might he talk to Ronan, it might be something embarrassing but he’d not mind telling him

Johnny: Do you know what it might be?

Ali: like I said, could be that girl

Ali: I don’t know that I’d want to talk to my big brother about that

Johnny: He can bring any of his troubles to me, that’s the use of big brothers, what I’m for

Ali: Of course you’d be there for him whatever

Ali: but I’m saying I might feel that’s not a good enough reason to bother mine with, or a big sister ‘cos I’m a girl, whatever

Johnny: It’s no bother unless the girl makes herself one

Ali: I’ve told my brother to make sure she doesn’t, she was only a bit too keen to his indifferent

Johnny: Right

Ali: I don’t know, I only have guesses

Johnny: Guesses not a guess

Johnny: What else might it be?

Ali: I mean, the other day he had to help Carly out with this guy, one of her ma’s

Ali: I dunno, it was a while ago but maybe because Carly is in the chat and will be at the party he’s thinking on it again?

Johnny: Why’s this the 1st I’m hearing of his helping her?

Johnny: was it when I was away or here?

Ali: She didn’t tell me ‘til after, and the guy didn’t do anything, he ran off so no one got hurt

Ali: it was around his birthday

Johnny: You didn’t tell me at all

Ali: I didn’t know that I should

Johnny: ‘Course you should he’s my brother

Ali: If he’d been hurt or in trouble, ‘course I would

Ali: but it wasn’t like that, he just did the decent thing of not leaving her alone with some creep

Johnny: It’ll be her he don’t want there, he’s on edge for her acting up again and the trouble she brings

Ali: There won’t be any trouble at mine

Ali: under the eye of my mammy, remember

Johnny: Hers needs taking in hand

Ali: By who

Johnny: We can’t have men of that sort ‘round

Ali: No one wants that, Carly more than anyone

Johnny: Your pal Carly’s after attention more than anyone

Johnny: but I’ll see to it my sisters, cousins and nieces aren’t put in harm's way for that ‘van’s lawless carry on

Ali: Bartley already did

Johnny: He saw to him not her mammy, who’s the real problem

Ali: How are you going to sort her

Johnny: What’s to be done with her is for the elders to decide

Johnny: but she’s been warned, they’re sure to have her out

Ali: You think?

Johnny: There’s no one lower than men who go for kids and she’s as wrong for turning her blind eye

Ali: I know that

Johnny: Enough’s enough

Ali: I dread to think how long it’s been going on

Johnny: Exactly

Ali: Where’s the end for Carly though

Johnny: She’s no business living here, mine’s protecting my family that do while I’m still on site to

Ali: I’m not saying it's your job to

Johnny: I wouldn’t see her hurt, I told you

Ali: I just wish her ma cared

Johnny: It’s not your job to mammy her, good as you are

Ali: Someone has to or what happens to her

Johnny: What does when we leave?

Ali: I can still talk to her

Johnny: It’s best they’re away before we are, the timing’s a blessing

Ali: A blessing for who?

Johnny: You, Ronan, all the girls of my family I’m leaving behind, Moses even

Ali: It helps clear your conscience for leaving

Johnny: You aren’t going to have no time to help her when you’ve proper babies to look after

Ali: I will, because I won’t have to work too

Johnny: It’s full time work not your paper round

Ali: Yeah but I’d be expected to get a proper job on top of it too if I wasn’t with you, is my point

Johnny: You’re expected to give your all to it, by me

Johnny: messing with Carly don’t fit into your day

Ali: What, you don’t believe I will now

Johnny: Well, will you?

Johnny: or do you care more for your life how it is now

Ali: I can’t believe you’re actually asking me that

Johnny: If you’re not ready, that answers why there’s no baby yet

Ali: Make it my fault

Johnny: You can’t keep a foot in, we’re both making sacrifices to get what we want

Ali: Yeah, we are

Ali: and you’re leaving a solid family behind whilst mine is barely hanging on by a thread

Ali: this could be the final straw, do you understand that

Johnny: Carly isn’t your family, you’ve known her a summer

Ali: She doesn’t have one

Johnny: You can’t give us both a new family of our own and you chose me

Ali: I know what I chose

Ali: it’s you who’s unconvinced

Johnny: I’m convinced it’s best she goes and you let her

Ali: It isn’t remotely up to me

Johnny: You know what decisions are yours

Ali: I know

Johnny: There’s no getting to have your cake and eat it

Ali: Because it’s all about me and what I want

Johnny: God tests us, he is

Ali: You don’t trust me like you said you did

Johnny: You didn’t tell me about this

Ali: I’m not trying to get between you and your brother, that’s how it felt

Johnny: It feels as if you don’t trust me neither

Ali: I trust you

Ali: I know how you feel about Carly so I don’t bring her up

Johnny: You knew I’d act to keep everyone safe and kept it to yourself to keep her here

Ali: That’s bullshit, the guy was dealt with, that was the end of it as far as I was concerned

Johnny: That 1 were, but it’s not the end and by god it’s important

Ali: There’s a reason she’s not been kicked out yet, clearly

Ali: like I said, she hasn’t just started to be like this

Johnny: Reason being there’s ways enough for men to be disgraces without anyone reckoning ‘em to be a danger to kids like that

Ali: Come on, this is not the first time that a man she’s brought back has been a blatant creep, not even since I met them

Johnny: I’ve not been keeping the eye on things I should then

Ali: There are as many who’d not have it be your business, to leave them well alone, there has to be for them to still be here

Johnny: If Bartley’d have it be his, it’s mine

Ali: He just saw, they were outside

Ali: she didn’t ask him to any more than he went looking to be a hero

Johnny: As you said, he did the decent thing

Ali: Yeah

Johnny: But without saying a word to me either

Ali: He knows how you feel about her too

Johnny: And?

Johnny: What does he feel for her to suddenly owe the loyalty of his mouth shut?

Ali: I imagine he just didn’t want to deal with the hassle of telling anyone

Ali: why piss you off if he can avoid it

Johnny: No

Ali: What do you mean, no?

Johnny: I’m no eejit

Ali: No, they haven’t, Jesus Christ

Ali: He would never

Johnny: She would and does

Ali: It’s irrelevant if he’s no interest

Johnny: Anyone can be lead into temptation

Ali: That’s what I am now

Johnny: This isn’t about you and me

Ali: I’m not stupid either

Johnny: Have you not been telling me of this too?

Ali: There’s nothing for me to tell

Johnny: Christ Almighty

Ali: You’ve made your mind up to see me in the worst light

Ali: How can it be keeping a secret when I don’t see it as one

Johnny: You’ve a mind to protect her instead of talking to me

Ali: If I was protecting anyone it’d be you

Johnny: From what?

Ali: From getting hurt, from putting yourself in the middle of all this when no one else will do anything else about it, again

Johnny: Someone has to

Ali: You aren’t in charge here, there’s all the people above you, they’d need to decide to act

Johnny: I’m in charge of my brother & he’s who’ll be hurt by how she acts

Ali: If he’s told her no, it’s the end of it

Johnny: And if he’s not, I’ll knock the sense into him to put an end to it, same as Moses

Ali: Do you think that’s what stopped him

Johnny: Don’t tell me you think you know better than me

Ali: He just got bored and moved on to another target

Johnny: & she’s my little brother in her sights now, like

Ali: There’s nothing I can say to make you feel better

Ali: I’d tell her to back off but she already has and you reckon on doing it yourself so

Johnny: Thanks a million

Ali: For fuck’s sake

Johnny: On you go and warn your pal Carly I’m onto her, that’s what you do

Ali: Now you just sound fucking ridiculous

Johnny: Maybe ‘cause you’re out to make a fucking fool of me

Ali: Why would I do that, why would I want that

Johnny: I don’t know

Johnny: I reckoned I knew what you wanted

Ali: You’re the one who’s changed their mind

Johnny: Don’t make it my fault you’ve so many secrets

Ali: Because any of that compares to you thinking there’s no baby and thinking it’s my fault

Ali: all whilst playing along

Johnny: You have to be sure or there won’t be

Ali: Am I meant to dignify that with a response

Johnny: Yeah, you are

Ali: I’ve given you everything, told you everything I want

Johnny: But giving her up

Ali: I’m giving everyone up to be with you, that’s what it means, us leaving, for both of us

Johnny: I wasn’t just playing along

Johnny: I pray there’s a baby, that there’ll be 13 each of them as we’ve both said

Ali: But you don’t think there is

Johnny: It feels like everything’s going to shit and we’ve not even left yet, how’ll they be when I’m away

Ali: If you’ve changed your mind about going

Johnny: No

Ali: I always knew you’d struggle

Johnny: You know how important you are to me

Ali: So’s your family

Ali: if you make it so I’m trying to change that then you’re going to resent me

Johnny: I had no reason to reckon he had need of me still but here I am faced with it

Ali: You’ll do what you have to do

Johnny: I can’t do right by everyone but I have to

Ali: Do you know why my sister starves herself

Johnny: Why?

Ali: Because we got separated

Ali: don’t tell me I’m not sure when I know what making that permanent means

Johnny: It’s not meant to be this much of a struggle when we’re doing what we and God want

Ali: It isn’t God’s will, it’s everyone else's

Ali: you can’t control theirs any more than me staying would stop her, it’s what she says but it’s not true, not now

Johnny: I’m at fault, I don’t have the strong will we need

Ali: You do

Johnny: How can you say so?

Ali: You’ve done so much no one would think you could already, I’ve seen it

Johnny: I’ve done the unthinkable letting you believe I doubt you when really I doubt myself

Ali: you’re allowed to be torn, to understand what’s at stake, you need to

Johnny: I’m not to tear at you

Ali: Do you feel like we don’t talk though, really

Johnny: We talk, it’s him who don’t to us

Ali: I’m sorry, I know how that must feel

Johnny: Your sister’s starving herself you know worse

Ali: I can’t make her stop, I don’t know how, if it’s possible

Johnny: Some things can’t be up to you

Ali: Back at you, boy

Johnny: Don’t you talk back to me, girl

Ali: 😏

Johnny: What are we to do?

Ali: There’s only one decision for you to make tonight

Johnny: Is there?

Ali: Yeah

Ali: are you coming to my party or are you not

Johnny: Would you still have me?

Ali: You know the answer

Johnny: You need an eye kept on you too, mine

Ali: I knew you didn’t trust me, like

Johnny: Your body’s got my baby inside it, I trust nobody near you

Ali: Then you know where you need to be

Johnny: [send her a pic of chain and padlocks that you ofc have because what you said before about chaining yourselves together]

Johnny: I stand by it

Ali: I hate fighting with you

Johnny: It’s as hard being back as the job I went away with were, the work of everyone

Ali: There’s no going back to before you, before us

Johnny: Been talk from my daddy today for me to take another on, same as before

Ali: What are you thinking?

Johnny: I don’t want to but there’s no telling him

Ali: what you get for doing your job so well

Ali: Is it longer

Johnny: Double the time sent off but so’s the money

Ali: We’ll lose the key then

Johnny: And get lost ourselves

Ali: You only just got back

Ali: what am I meant to do with myself if you leave

Johnny: I can’t

Ali: We’ll go

Johnny: We’ve only [and however much money he has saved as if the total isn’t enough when we all know it’s loads but I get it]

Ali: I could come on your job with you

Johnny: [tell her who else is coming with you, not any of these boys obvs except maybe Moses if we wanna be really mean haha, but if not literally his dad who maybe is, which full shade to you sir if you are cos what I said about family men, then some other fam which means she cannot]

Ali: Obviously I’d have to stay nearby

Johnny: Be a brave little girl

Ali: Do you just want space

Johnny: Do you want to take our ‘van to stay in? You’d be safe

Ali: Yes

Johnny: [talk about whatever you’d need to sort to make that a possibility like okay then this is what we’re gonna do]

Johnny: I’ll let you help

Ali: Can we

Ali: I won’t leave, make a sound

Johnny: I told you everybody else has forgot where it is and wouldn’t notice it move if it did

Johnny: God’s in the mood to test us, we’ll test that

Ali: No one is going to notice

Ali: and I can look after you

Johnny: They’d never recognise it neither, all we’ve busied ourselves with

Ali: It’s our home

Ali: and I’ll [some job that you’ve been meaning to do] before we leave

Johnny: Do you reckon you’ll feel the baby before we leave?

Ali: I want to, more than anything

Johnny: [tell her about some cute gypsy things girls do when they wanna get pregnant/think they might be and wanna find out/give themselves good vibes, because if they don’t exist I’m saying they do in your fam anyway cos I can, that you shouldn’t even know about cos you’re a boy but you’ve heard your sisters and healer nan we’ve mentioned before talking]

Ali: I like those

Ali: I’ll try them out, show you how it goes if it does

Johnny: I love you

Ali: I love you

Ali: don’t doubt it again

Johnny: Is tonight like Christmas, if I’ve got something to give you?

Ali: Technically only Santa needs to, if I’ve been good

Ali: but I want to know what you’ve got for me

Johnny: It’s just an idea for the now but it’ll be proper and yours by the time you’ve dressed us as him if that’s what & who you’ve a mind to

Ali: You’ve the chains and I’ve already started on your mask

Ali: save it for the 25th

Johnny: Month of December or no I’ll have you in my lap sure enough

Ali: No need for a bribe

Ali: I should be there now

Johnny: What time’s your party start?

Ali: [tell him whenever that may be]

Ali: but I have to tell you something that might make you not want to come

Johnny: Go on

Ali: Ronan is asking loads of questions about my boyfriend

Johnny: Ah, come on, he can ask loads more and have no clue still I am

Ali: I mean

Ali: I’ve done my best to put him off anyway

Johnny: Ignore Ronan, I need you

Ali: You’ve got my full attention

Johnny: As I ought, we’ve that in common

Johnny: try as I might to be a decent brother

Ali: That’s my fault, should’ve let you go ages ago

Johnny: When I’ve to see a man about what I’m giving you, not before

Ali: Sounds dodgy 😏

Johnny: You’d quit being a messer if your surprise was the pet you was after

Johnny: and it beats that

Ali: Do I get three guesses?

Johnny: What’ll happen if you get and spoil it with your guessing?

Ali: You’ve surely got a good poker face

Ali: but okay, I’ll not guess out loud

Johnny: What they say

Ali: but I’ve seen you 😁

Johnny: You’ve seen me in each of my different moods

Ali: I love you in all of them

Johnny: If you guess something s’not but I’ve then the knowing you want, I’d have to source you that as well

Ali: True, I can’t be spoilt

Johnny: You can but I don’t know there’s time before [whatever time she said the party starts] for 3 more

Ali: What am I going to get you before the party starts, that’s the real question

Johnny: Get to [the name of the pub they were in on Bartley’s bday and hence she knows the way] when you’re told

Ali: I might look even less conspicuous this time

Ali: not a night for white

Johnny: Dress yourself in [something of his that he has left behind either when he was away or on one of the occasions he’s seen her since, soz mcvickers, because no need to wear her party ootn yet and give him spoilers]

Ali: 🥺

Ali: will you take it back with you, it’s losing the smell of you with how much I’ve worn it and slept with it

Johnny: Whatever you need

Ali: you

Johnny: [give her a time to be at this pub for because you know that there will be a million people there to distract your brother as always even though it’s not his bday this time]

Ali: I’ll leave at [a time that is blatantly too early because we know what we’re saying]

Johnny: That’s my girl

Ali: Remembering it is just as important as keeping an eye on your brother

Johnny: More, he’s bigger than you

Ali: For now, yeah

Johnny: Have to buy yourself proper clothes then

Ali: I’ll borrow yours

Johnny: I’ll take you shopping too

Ali: We can buy the baby things

Ali: it’s tiny clothes

Johnny: My nephews already borrowed my clothes from being their ages

Ali: did your grandma knit you things, when you were newborn

Johnny: [tell her about the slay outfits because you can’t show her photos or point out on any babies which are yours never mind ask for them back to give to this jali baby like you’ll get to when Sophie Turner is popping kids out]

Ali: Such a grandma way to show love

Ali: I can knit well enough, I’ll make a set

Johnny: [tell her your secret lingo word for this nan who is clearly iconic because love to teach her]

Ali: [voice note you trying to say it back]

Ali: do your nieces and nephews call your ma something different?

Johnny: [voice note it back so she knows how to say it 100% and also whatever cute thing your mum is called because she defs has her own, excuse us to his brother lol I imagine you going inside pretending to look for a tool or whatever so you could do this]

Ali: [excuse us indeed, just having a little learning sesh, sorry it’s cute and we wish to be included though we cannot be]

Johnny: [honestly, tell her some cute stories of you as a baby too because it’s horrible that she can’t join your fam and be welcomed like your mother clearly was when he obvs has such a close fam]

Ali: I know you were just the cutest baby

Johnny: Your enemy would call us weird looking to be sure

Ali: I was such an 👽

Ali: we’ll still love it, even when it’s all head and eyes

Johnny: They’ll be no prouder mammy and daddy around

Ali: It’s all I need

Ali: I didn’t think I was sad before but I don’t know, nothing has ever made me this happy, just you

Johnny: Elders would say our baby’s got eyes like that ‘cause it’ll have the sight when grown, maybe all 26 of ‘em will

Johnny: [tell her the gypsy word ofc and more about what that means]

Ali: 26 psychic babies might leave us in trouble

Ali: no secrets to be had ever

Ali: but this one is special, I can feel it

Johnny: My mammy felt it in us, she’s said

Johnny: means this 1 is a boy

Ali: She was right

Ali: why he has to be named for you

Johnny: [tell her how many generations your name goes back cos we all know it isn’t just your father]

Johnny: they’ve all carried his name for him

Ali: your history will be our children’s

Ali: I don’t change that being true

Johnny: And yours

Johnny: I don’t want to take it from you along with your daddy’s name

Ali: Don’t make me cry

Johnny: You matter, you know

Ali: You make me feel it

Johnny: The baby is as much a part of you, your blood and your history, as mine

Ali: We’re giving them a history that includes us, making our blood

Johnny: I shouldn’t have doubted we can do it

Ali: I understand, even if I don’t fully agree

Ali: I don’t want to keep things from you, I hate the feeling, actually

Johnny: It’s not you, I’ve had no peace

Ali: You’re being stressed from all areas

Johnny: Your little girl party has come at the perfect time

Ali: And if you do go on this next job, double the work won’t feel like it with me helping you

Johnny: I’d be lost without your help

Ali: You’ll never be without me

Johnny: You’re with me

Johnny: I’ve stood taller for it ever since

Ali: My man

Ali: I knew it was you, soon as I met you

Johnny: You’ve some sight in you, is it?

Ali: Or whatever’s magic in you glows or something

Ali: It was like a pull, to be near you, no bullshit

Johnny: So’s your plan for us to glow tonight with the mask you’re making?

Ali: Would you wear it

Ali: if it wasn’t suitably tough for you, which it is, of course, I’m nice

Johnny: Maybe

Ali: 😍😍😍😍

Ali: You always look so good, it’d be rude if you weren’t mine

Johnny: It’d be cruel if you weren’t

Ali: It felt like dying being around you [when y’all broke up in that period, we all remember]

Johnny: It killed me knowing I’d hurt you

Ali: It feels longer ago than it is, years, how far we’ve come

Ali: you’ve more than made it up to me since, now you say it back, say it first too

Johnny: I’ve been made different by you, I feel years older than I was but not in the way my daddy has us carry being his eldest boy like a weight

Ali: like you’re capable

Johnny: My jaw aches with what I’m not capable of telling him

Johnny: for how heavy it is when he might be the one who’s wrong but it’s mine to keep hold of still

Ali: I can’t see the future well enough to say anything in definites

Ali: but we’ll all of us still be living, if his mind is to change, he’s got the opportunity to tell you so

Johnny: I’d have him know our future as we see it

Johnny: have all of them know you as I do

Ali: I know it, even if it can never happen, I believe you

Ali: you aren’t interested in treating me like a dirty secret, I gave you chance to

Johnny: You aren’t dirty

Johnny: and I believe my mammy, my sisters, the babies of both, would love you as I do

Ali: I would love all of them too

Ali: your parents will want to meet your son, regardless of how they feel about us

Johnny: Once we’re married you’ll belong to me and we’ll be sworn to each other in front of God, they can’t turn their back on you unless they turn from both of us

Ali: I think about it every day

Ali: everything else is so unimportant, the fact no one knows about us, I just want to declare it to the priest and to God and whoever else is there to hear it

Johnny: How many days ‘til your birthday?

Ali: [we’re just a little over 2 months here so whatever that is in days, not long in the grand scheme but you’re extra so it feels like forever]

Ali: +10 for yours, I’ve stalked you

Johnny: I’ll book us a 14 day honeymoon, be the only present I’ve need of

Ali: where shall we take the ‘van?

Johnny: I’d say [somewhere that has meaning to his fam] but we’ve got to start traditions of our own

Ali: We could do [however much of the coast you think you could in 14 days because ocean girly]

Ali: why stay in one place when ours comes with us wherever we want to be

Johnny: We will

Johnny: [and ofc talk about how much you could feasibly do in more detail like how many miles this caravan can do to the gallon etc and how many hours you could drive per day with what those specific roads are like, like you’re already planning a realistic lil itinerary of where and when]

Ali: [nerd out too because you’re so well suited and both about this life]

Ali: we’ll bring the bike too, of course

Johnny: Before there’s too many of us to fit at 28

Ali: a couple safe between us, that’s okay

Johnny: Problem is, no daughter of mine would be let on a bike but sure, a daughter of yours has her place there

Ali: Only with her daddy protecting her is the perfect compromise is it not

Johnny: Good answer

Ali: It’s how I want it too, them to be protected by you as I am

Johnny: No one’ll be more than yous are

Ali: And you’re capable, as capable as I make you feel

Ali: work you’re born for is the right work and the right works to be more rewarding than it ever is taxing, even with a wife and 26 babies

Johnny: It’s no work, more a calling

Ali: my 🧜‍♀️ call to you

Johnny: I’m as pulled to you as you are to me

Ali: we’re meant

Johnny: I put my life in God’s hands and he put you in mine

Ali: There’s no place else I want to be

Johnny: You’ll leave at [an earlier time than she said because he’s saying he wants to meet earlier]

Ali: Do you miss me as bad as I miss you?

Johnny: How bad do you miss me?

Ali: I’m ignoring everyone else

Ali: your [the clothing he has left] feels more and more like you on me the longer I’m missing you

Johnny: The bike feels the same, less mine more ours

Ali: I hope you know you’re never allowed to get rid

Johnny: I know I can’t

Ali: The only good thing about being stuck at my parent’s house so much is getting to remember all the times you’ve been before

Johnny: We’ve both to make the most of the time with our families before we go

Ali: Yeah, we do

Johnny: But yeah, I miss you

Ali: [send him a pic of you rocking his clothes like miss me more]

Johnny: No, I do more for being shown that

Johnny: you’re hurting me

Ali: You hurt I hurt and back the other way, I needed you to feel it with me

Johnny: I’ll show you how bad I hurt, will I?

Johnny: [and send her a pic exactly like you did on your brother’s bday in that convo, sneakily taken in a bathroom the same way but obvs his not the pub this time cos he’s not there yet]

Ali: Fuck

Ali: how are you meant to focus on anything else when you could be that and me

Johnny: What are we to do?

Ali: I’ll meet you [even earlier than your new time]

Johnny: ‘Til then, you like photos to keep & I’ve loved looking at the ones you sent touching yourself

Johnny: I’ll send some back

Ali: I need no encouragement to do it again for you but I need to see you doing that

Johnny: [do send her some because her doing it was one of the convos I re-read the other day but he never has just the one pic I mentioned a sec ago which is now 2 so we love to see the progression of content occurring]

Ali: and I can really keep them

Johnny: You have to

Ali: I’m obsessed with you

Ali: [just be here sending pictures back that are very much your reaction to his as it were]

Johnny: Doing things without you feels wronger and wronger

Ali: I’ll do it and do it better

Ali: like you did for me, on the bike

Johnny: I’ll open up your other palm to make you swear you’ll never stop

Ali: I can’t stop

Ali: I’ve only bled for you

Johnny: You’ll bleed more for the baby but that’s as it should be

Ali: I’m not scared

Ali: not scared enough to not want it, anyway

Johnny: You’re not to be

Johnny: even if we can’t be with her, I’ll find out how [his nan’s gypsy lingo name] rids you of the pain

Ali: Will you be with me?

Johnny: It’s not usual but I don’t care, I’ll stay to watch over you

Ali: We have to meet him at the same time

Johnny: What they say is babies keep on their crying to fetch their daddies in from out the pub

Johnny: I’d have him open his eyes to me without asking where I am

Ali: That’s the sort of daddy you are

Ali: it’s why I love you so much

Johnny: I’ll not leave you if it takes [a horrific amount of time] like it did for my eldest sister for her 1st

Ali: Poor girl

Ali: the things we have to do for our children

Johnny: They’re meant to hurry themselves the more you push out but all hers are slow to come

Ali: [just regale him with your mother’s birth stories ‘cos she would have you and she’s had enough children to have wild variation lol]

Johnny: [add in your other sisters that apply even if it’s just the other older than you one in comparison and the 2 younger aren’t old enough/haven’t yet, age depending]

Ali: I’ll do it fast for you

Ali: no messing

Johnny: He’ll come in his own time, neither of us have say

Ali: Hmm

Ali: 😒 but I want to meet him already

Johnny: I can’t wait myself

Ali: but we’ll be patient, make sure all his things are ready

Johnny: Only the best for him

Ali: he’ll want for nothing

Johnny: Nor you, starting tonight

Ali: When do you ever leave me wanting?

Ali: aside from the bad time

Johnny: Now, I can feel how you’re wanting

Ali: You can feel what I’m missing too

Ali: your hands are so much rougher than mine, what do you like more

Johnny: Yours are half the size, everything of you’s small

Ali: You like it

Ali: like I like that you’re big

Johnny: He’ll keep small to fit and not hurt you so much

Ali: But I promise I’ll fully cook him, do the job right

Johnny: It’s your calling, no work

Johnny: your body knows what to do

Ali: It’s what my body has always wanted

Ali: it physically hurts when you pull out, the few times you have

Johnny: I’ll never again

Ali: Promise, say it’s for me

Johnny: Unless you tell us the other way round hurts

Ali: I don’t hate it when you cum on me

Ali: time and a place but as long as you’ve already cum in me once already you can do what you like

Johnny: I swear

Ali: Must be in the mood to make you make all kinds of vows

Ali: I don’t think any priest would appreciate that one though so best it’s out the way

Johnny: [do it in gypsy lingo too like that means it’s really out of the way]

Ali: [try and copy him but you’re too !! and giggly about it to be saying this well at all]

Johnny: [send her audio of you tutting how you like to do but it’s more to be hot than because you’re actually mad about it, then saying it slow and with all the !! again moreso to be extra and daddy about this]

Ali: [do a better job about it purely because of this energy, of course you are still clearly turned on but you know]

Johnny: You’ll feel it’s your own tongue soon, speak it like you’ve been born to it as he has

Ali: I’ve been practising

Ali: when we leave, you can speak to me in only that tongue, be the best way to learn

Johnny: Good

Ali: [say good back in the lingo as if it’s a test and you’re going to pass lol]

Johnny: You’ve a ear for it

Ali: It reminds me of slang I’ve learnt here and in Liverpool

Ali: and learning Irish in school

Johnny: [tell her more about the roots and history of it etc like a lil nerd]

Ali: You tell stories so well

Ali: I can’t bear being taught by anyone else, how do you do this

Johnny: My favourite thing about my daddy’s how he keeps and passes on stories, I’ve tried to learn from him

Ali: I reckon he’d be impressed

Johnny: It’s important, they’re alive thanks to the telling

Ali: You should know where you’re from, the who, it matters

Johnny: Plenty’s trouble is they don’t

Ali: Some need to forget but in the long run, does no favours

Johnny: I’m bringing your sister [something he asked his nan for cos in one of their earlier convos he said he would but then he’s clearly been distracted since but what she said about why Ro starves herself earlier in this one has reminded him], I’ve no forgot

Ali: I really appreciate it

Ali: she has, us getting to spend some more time together, I think

Johnny: [tell her what to do with these things, it’s giving healing herbs to make her drink in a tea and some kind of talisman to make her wear/sneak under her pillow, cos old school romany culture is big on both of those, they love a talisman/good luck charm especially]

Ali: She’ll think that’s interesting

Ali: she loves to learn, especially about religion and rituals

Johnny: I remember, she’s a believer

Ali: we poisoned the girl together

Johnny: Girl’s poison herself

Johnny: an eye for an eye

Ali: you don’t have to hate her for me, it’s ancient history

Ali: but I love you for it

Johnny: It’s new to me & I’m not letting her off

Johnny: sorry for herself’s never sorry to you

Ali: I won’t complain, ruining her front yard was pretty fun

Johnny: Some don’t repent on their own

Ali: and you’re the hottest when you get all biblical

Johnny: You haven’t need to forgive her before we go but she’ll beg you to, sure enough

Ali: So long as you save all this talk for me, or she will definitely think you’re flirting with her

Johnny: Loose ends are all to be tied up before we away, she’ll reckon she’s the disgrace she shows herself to be

Ali: You’ll sort my little girl drama for me

Johnny: When I’m at yours in my mask I’ll [some more acts of vandalism on her house like writing something across the front door and walls in paint, also covering and taking her dad’s car to literal pieces so it doesn’t work etc etc]

Ali: Oh my God 😻

Ali: let me help you

Johnny: You and your friends stay in your mammy’s sight and don’t leave it while I’m busy, let none of the blame fall on yous

Ali: You’ll not be caught

Johnny: I’m in the right, she’s in the wrong

Johnny: I don’t live by laws but that 1

Ali: It’s the only one that actually matters

Ali: you’re doing right by me

Johnny: I have to

Ali: I have to fuck you in her daddy’s car

Johnny: I’ll tell you when

Ali: I’ll stay where I can be seen until then, behave for you

Johnny: I know it

Ali: Know there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you

Johnny: Come to me

Johnny: [whatever time they said which was already made earlier]’s too long a wait

Ali: On my way

Ali: if I end up crawling on my hands and knees so be it

Johnny: Can be a race for [this pub he is also on his way to rn]

Ali: If I win…?

Johnny: I’ll get on my hands and knees

Ali: You’re on

Johnny: Be on your way

Ali: [prove you’re getting out the door, ‘scuse us everyone else]

Johnny: [write ILY in gypsy lingo cos you’re likewise out the door and can’t do a voice note in front of your brother]

Ali: [write down ILY + ‘more’ in the lingo]

Johnny: [concentrate on driving you and your brother to the pub so you don’t die please cos you’re distracted enough without talking to her the entire time too, we all know you’re gonna win this ‘race’ cos it’s your local for a reason including it's near the site so send her a pic of your pint when you’ve got them in lol]

Ali: Cheater

Johnny: Don’t be sore before you’ve started crawling

Ali: You only had to say you needed me on my hands and knees more

Johnny: You don’t need telling what I’m after from you

Ali: I’m still looking at the pictures

Ali: you made it so clear for me

Johnny: Be made clearer when you look at us

Ali: I’m going as fast as I can, cheater

Ali: you enjoy your pint

Johnny: Call me cheater 1 more time and see what happens to you

Ali: Don’t tempt me

Johnny: Don’t you tempt me

Ali: That’s what I’m good for

Ali: haven’t I always tempted you?

Johnny: I’m not for patience, hurry yourself before I’m tempted to find you

Ali: I like that about you

Ali: and I promise I’m already going as fast as I can

Johnny: How fast?

Johnny: [and like a protective dad tell her what speed she is allowed to go]

Ali: but

Ali: I’ll have to slow down then

Johnny: So be it

Ali: You’re so cute

Ali: can I call you that?

Johnny: [a gypsy lingo word for cute in the sense of a baby or a puppy] or [the different hotter vibe lol]?

Ali: Both

Ali: you’re everything

Johnny: You’ll learn everything

Ali: I knew [the hotter version] and I’ve heard [the cute one] said over little ones when I’ve been visiting

Johnny: You’ve kept an ear out as long as I’ve known you, I used to get angry about it but now

Ali: I’m not just nosy

Ali: you know it’s not curiosity for the sake of

Johnny: I know what it were for the sake of, so

Ali: I didn’t hide it from you from the off

Johnny: True enough, nobody could say you’re not upfront for a girl

Ali: For a girl?

Ali: when it was me who started this

Johnny: I started it, I’ve told you

Ali: You have told me, yeah

Johnny: You’re welcome for it being told to you again

Ali: I don’t care, as long as you’re mine

Johnny: I am, there’s an easy promise to keep to

Ali: The easiest, there’s no one else it could be

Johnny: We’re meant, like you said

Ali: No one else exists when you’re around me

Johnny: I’m the same as you in having sight for only you

Ali: [send him your location to let him know how soon he can actually have eyes on you]

Johnny: [tell her a new speed she can go that’s a bit faster but still deemed safe by you]

Ali: remember how fast you went in [wherever y’all were when you ran away for that moment]

Johnny: Get it out your head, you’re never to go that fast

Ali: Why not

Johnny: You’re in too delicate of a condition

Johnny: you’ve got to be careful with what you do

Ali: I’ll be in a delicate condition ‘til I’m an old woman

Johnny: You’ll be needed ‘til you go to your grave

Ali: so will you

Johnny: Not like a mammy is

Ali: Yes so

Ali: that’ll be different in our family

Johnny: Oh, will it now?

Ali: I need you forever, for starters

Ali: and so will the babies, yeah

Johnny: You’ll be provided for forever, the money’ll stay in a hiding place you’re told of

Ali: I’m not talking about money

Johnny: I’m not intending to go to my grave yet, like

Ali: You’re as important, you, not your money

Johnny: It’ll be worked out different if that’s how we want it

Johnny: you already know I care for the babies of my family more than the men usually will

Ali: You shouldn’t feel disposable, or that that’s your only worth, it just isn’t

Ali: do you want it to be different?

Johnny: I’d want to do it my mammy’s way more than my da’s and uncles, tradition or no

Ali: then that’s what we’ll do

Johnny: We’ll do what we feel’s right, find our own way

Johnny: but she’s given us a starting point

Ali: I believe in us, that we want the same thing

Johnny: Sun’s trying to come out, that to do with you or God?

Ali: Bit of both

Ali: he is on my side, after-all

Johnny: I believe in you both

Ali: That’s got to be the loveliest thing anyone has ever said to me

Johnny: You’ve an answer for everything, best I’ve at least some of my own

Ali: You’ve always seemed like you’ve the words to me

Ali: even when they weren’t the ones I was after hearing

Johnny: You’ve tempted me to say them even when I ought not

Ali: your secrets safe with me

Johnny: I don’t know how it’s still secret, what I feel for you

Ali: Me either

Ali: especially with your cousin giving me the third-degree

Johnny: You’re too smart for Ronan’s own good

Johnny: my brother has sense though, or so I reckoned before spending [however long] with him for the lad to notice nothing changed of me

Ali: Would he necessarily ask you if he did?

Johnny: He can ask me anything

Ali: Can doesn’t mean will though

Johnny: ‘Course not

Ali: They aren’t big talkers, any of them

Johnny: Nor was I before you came ‘round talking too much

Ali: You can talk to me

Ali: I know you like that, however much I say back

Johnny: I love it

Ali: Me too

Ali: you get me better than anyone else before

Johnny: You’re like no other girls before

Ali: I’m your girl

Johnny: My wife

Ali: distracting me

Johnny: I can’t help thinking of it

Ali: I feel bad, for how little I want to be here

Ali: but all I want is to be away and married to you

Johnny: I’ll be in church at Christmas with all my family but with my head full of you and the vows I want to make

Ali: I’m going to find the dress before then, gift to myself and future gift to you

Johnny: I’ll pray the baby don’t mean you’ll need another

Ali: Skin tight isn’t very church appropriate

Ali: there’ll be room to let him grow

Johnny: [tell her your weight when you were born but in a boy way not in lbs, like I was a bag of sugar idk for him cos he’s clearly bigger and healthier than baby Junie but you know the vibes, maybe he’s comparing himself to something mechanical]

Ali: 🥺

Ali: I was [and tell him], maybe he’ll be in the middle

Johnny: Whatever size he’s born we’ll grow him up big and strong to watch over his sisters and younger brothers

Ali: he’s you as his daddy, a natural is what he’ll be

Johnny: You’ll be a natural with him, I can’t wait to watch you

Ali: I already love him

Ali: there’s so much to show and teach him and I can’t wait, 9 months is too long, seriously

Johnny: I’ll have to keep you busy teaching you things ‘til he’s ready

Ali: You will

Ali: you’re a good teacher

Johnny: It’s the student in you, how keen you are to be shown everything

Ali: I could see you knew what’s worth knowing

Johnny: Can you feel how bad I need to see you?

Ali: Show me again

Johnny: [do obviously because we love an exact pub toilet replica but this time the stall door isn’t being kicked in because it’s always busy but not special occasion busy, hence be more extra this time by sending her a lil video of how turned on you are so she can have the audio of how !! you are even when you’re not touching yourself other than to pose for this content]

Ali: I’ve got to stop

Ali: for safety and to hear you properly, fuck

Ali: I could meet you there

Johnny: Where?

Ali: In the stall, it’s not fair to have you move

Johnny: Will I lift you up through the window so nobody knows you’re here?

Ali: Will I fit?

Johnny: You’re still small enough for now

Ali: I’m not getting much bigger, even with a bump

Johnny: Be a perfect fit

Ali: You’ve thought of me there too much not to have me, however you need

Johnny: And you’ve seen how I’m waiting, heard the need I have

Ali: I’m trying to recover enough to run to you

Ali: it’s a necessity, to be with you and that close

Johnny: I’d run to you, much as it’d hurt

Johnny: missing you hurts more

Ali: I’m doing it, I’d do the impossible to be with you

Ali: us apart is wrong

Johnny: I’ll stay at your party all night

Ali: We can be together

Ali: you can claim me

Johnny: Sun might not come up tomorrow if we don’t keep God on side, he’s told us you’re mine, he wants me to

Ali: It’s the truth, even if we’re not telling it in full ‘til we’re away

Ali: feeling like a liar when I have to ignore you at parties isn’t right, not now

Johnny: It’s too late, we can’t

Ali: How can I ignore my whole world

Johnny: We’re no liars

Ali: This is such a good thing, we are, we can’t let it be corrupted like that

Johnny: Don’t worry yourself I’ll never let it happen

Johnny: you’re both too pure

Johnny: [and tell her the gypsy lingo word because they are big on the idea of clean vs polluted, esp for women unsurprisingly]

Ali: [repeat it back to him as a ? like have I said that right/do I get the vibe]

Johnny: When I’m in church I’ll ask that he’s as smart as his mammy

Ali: he’ll be as kind as you, as hard-working and fair

Johnny: You’re right, 9 months is ages

Ali: there’s no time for breaks with 26, at least

Johnny: There’ll be twins, you’ve good as promised with how they run on your daddy’s side

Ali: Are you concerned we’ll not be able to stop?

Johnny: We’ll stop at 13 if you’re tired, I haven’t concerns but your health

Ali: I won’t be tired, not of you nor babies

Johnny: Then we won’t trouble ourselves to stop

Ali: [a lil vid of your feet running like no stopping]

Johnny: [call her both versions of cute obvs, you gotta]

Ali: Until I show up 🥵

Johnny: We’ve taps I can run for you

Ali: It’s a start

Ali: a locked door is another

Johnny: Let me help you

Ali: Okay

Johnny: [give her deets for how she’s best to get to the toilet window he’s gonna help her through without getting spotted by random gypsy men]

Ali: [don’t reply but he’ll hear when you’re here moving bins under this window to get up to it]

Johnny: [help her up because any of the peeps you know in this pub could need a piss at any time there’s no telling, he’ll still be making out with her immediately though as soon as she’s high enough before she’s remotely properly through the window as if they have all the time in the world cos can’t and won’t be tamed]

Ali: [you’re going to fall through this window into him so ungracefully, no fucks given, likewise unbothered about anyone else but him in this moment as you’re making out and wrapping yourself around him only the tiniest bit for safety and almost all because ‘I missed you’ said into this kiss with a huge smile; only indication you’ve remembered you can’t just be out here like this is the fact you are at least attempting to makeout in the direction of the stall once you’ve found your footing enough]

Johnny: [we love to see it and we all know he’ll stop her from falling flat on her face because holding her and continuing this makeout sesh frantically as if he hasn’t seen her for a million years cos how it always feels, but he’s making no attempt to do anything except carry her towards these sink/s and run the tap for her like he said, picture the scene, sitting her on them and in the hottest move grabbing a fistful of her hair to 1. Break the kiss 2. Keep it out of the way for her and 3. Manoeuvre her head under the tap to drink from it so that she won’t touch the gross tap itself or gross basin bit cos I’m sure this lad’s bathroom in an exclusively gypsy bar is p grim]

Ali: [the noise you will make is in reality only loud enough for him to hear in a pub setting on any night but it feels so !! and uncontrollable to you that you have to focus all your energy on diligently DRINKING this water like your life truly depends on it, of course, you’re making the most insane EYE CONTACT the whole time from this position, you simply must]

Johnny: [maintaining this insane eye contact until he simply cannot/she simply could not drink any more water for what feels like forever because every second is so charged and !! (but isn’t actually) then pulling her away from the tap the same way he maneouvered her towards it aka via another hot hair pull and once again kissing her like his life depends on it, in such a messy way as if half the water cascaded down her face and he’s gotta clean her up even though he had her positioned so precisely that it could and did not, love that we’re still in no hurry to move into the privacy of a stall cos he is pulling her off the sink and back into his arms via whatever clothes of his she has borrowed to wear rn as this makeout continues but only cos he wants to be closer not cos they are on the move yet]

Ali: [just being the most reckless y’all have ever been, this girl loves to see it, even if subconsciously because no thinking is really happening right now, we all know, any sense of direction you vaguely had is gone the way of your sense, out here letting yourself be a full ragdoll about this because you want exactly what he wants and to be as close as is humanly possible]

Johnny: [mhmm he’s being a bold bad girl about this rn cos he’s happy to the point of feeling invincible thinking she’s preggo atm and they are gonna run away and get married on her bday in feb and that god is on board with all their plans which is not only heartbreaking to me personally knowing none of that is going to occur but dangerous to him personally here and now cos he’s being so reckless about everything as if he hasn’t left his brother playing pool or darts etc and there isn’t a full pub of peeps he knows on the other side of this bathroom door, but anyway, he’s playing with the key around her neck whilst they are being extra out in the open and refusing to be behind a locked door in a way that’s poetic cinema, and by being extra I mean he’s 100% touching his full ass name on her which might as well just be touching her indecently when they both always react the way they do about it]

Ali: [you should absolutely be the one reminding him considering you’d be the one being ignored if shit hit the fan but you just aren’t that girl and you aren’t capable so I’m soz, find us here struggling to breathe like you were winded by your running when it’s obviously this boy and what he’s barely doing and how much it means, placing your hand over his over this key, pausing to LOOK at him]

Johnny: [I’ll cut y’all both the slack of saying nobody needs a piss because neither of you have or can find chill in this moment when you’re this in love and in your bubble about it, case in point, catch him returning this LOOK and maintaining the key handhold while he pulls up her/his borrowed top (we idk what items of clothing of his she is rocking rn) to be KISSING her stomach DRAMATICALLY at the same time as still tracing his/this fictional son’s name, so his breathing is as extra as hers is]

Ali: [there could be some kind of match on lmao, no one wants to miss a second then, or you’ll just have to end up having this intense quickie against the main door so no one can get in because it’s clearly happening, didn’t come all this way both literally in distance and metaphorically in terms of progress to not; the way you’d be welling up about this is so upsetting, so soz we don’t let y’all have ANYTHING that you think you’re going to]

Johnny: [we are evil but at least jali are buzzing in this moment and don’t know we are, god bless this boy for turning this stomach makeout sesh into the inevitable eating her out moment we can all see coming as if he has all the time in the world/they aren’t out here still not in a stall, we love to see it, he’s literally getting on his knees like he said he would]

Ali: [so cinematic baby, no notes honestly, get your life lads, who cares about anyone in this whole town, not y’all I fear]

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fingfamily-blog-blog · 2 years ago

Text

Family Vacation in Java

It is Dec. 28, and I'm in Batu for the third and last night. My wife and younger son arrived on Dec 16, and we've been working our way east from Jakarta since. It's been a nice break from the school routine, but Malang has never seemed so nice to me. Jakarta is too big. Yogya has more culture, but we dealt with tons of traffic and hot weather. Solo was our next stop and the less said about that the better. Here in Batu we have had plenty of rain, but we've seen more charm here than anywhere else, basically because we've been out in nature more. The mountains here are refreshing visually as well as temperaturely. We've had a guide and driver taking us around since Yogya and that has been a great help. No need to stress about going from here to there. I can fall asleep in the car! No getting lost. Our guide is very friendly and knowledgeable. They've given us some good ideas, and our guide book has been less helpful than I would have hoped. The food, as I expected, has been the main cause for concern. We're eating out 2 or three meals a day, greasy, no veggies. It gets to the bowels. Tastes great sometimes, not always. Still, I'm trying lots more foods than I have up to this point, and my wife and son are happy with the cuisine for the most part. I'm taking many photos, parks, flowers, trees, rivers, tea plantation, hindu temples, buddhist temples, sultan palaces, museums. We've had two wonderful experiences in Batik shops, one where we learned some of the techniques, and even got to draw lines in hot wax on canvas, and another where we had a tour of the Boss' batik collection, which was world-class. Then we shopped in both places and I got several shirts and bolts of fabric. We bought things for friends and for our boys. It adds us to a decent amount of money, but not as much as in America! Sleep has been another concern. My wife and son are probably just getting over their jet lag now, 11 days in. But new places every few days, a new bed, a new pillow, new noises, it all conspires to make regular sleep difficult. We'll be spending most of the next two nights in my home in Malang, and I'll be happy to be in a more familiar place. I wish I'd insisted on staying there longer. Oh well. You can't do it all in Indonesia, and you can't know what's best until you do it. We've experienced one interesting thing, and that is being approached by students who need to practice English for school work, and for families who just want their picture taken with a "bule" (foreigner). Once in a while, it's ok, but when it happens regularly, as it has in some places, the feeling is "you are treating me as an object - what good will a picture of a stranger do you? - please leave me out of your strange ritual." But then the family gathers around you, and you smile, they take the picture and you're on your way. We have two more weeks of travel to come as well. We'll be flying to Flores Island on New Year's Day, for two weeks in a much more remote place, with much more focus on nature, volcanoes, beaches, etc. The food will be a concern, but I think most everything else will be more chill, calm,relaxed. Those could be famous last words. So I'll knock on wood. I've spent little time thinking about my school experience, either last semester or next. I've thought more about what I'll do if my brother and friends and elder son come over. Bali seems to be a better choice than Java, but Bali has its issues. Anyway, Java is not charming. It's grungy, crowded, polluted, and just not nice to look at in general. But there are specifics that are lovely and I've captured some and posted them on Insta (under the names D. Selby Fing and Bugs Pacino). I'm tired pretty much every night, although today was our least active. I'll bre going to bed shortly and preparing for another day of movement. We'll be going to Bromo about 27 hours from now. Bromo is a challenge, but well worth effort. Good night, friends. See you soon.

0 notes

jt-artsandfics · 3 years ago

Note

Hello! I hope your having a wonderful day, and may I ask for hanzo, kuai, fujin, and raiden react to their s/o disappearing out of the blue only to come back home and tell them they just had a quick family emergency? Again please have a good day!

These are alot of fun making and I am having a good day. I hope everyone is ok and having a good day.

This took such a long time to make becuase I kept lossing focus and in the end I just wanted to get it finished but I hope you all enjoy.

Hasashi Hanzo

Hanzo had come home late, he had been helping Kuai laing with a mission and it had taken longer then they both anticipated. It had been a long mission and the one t hign he was truly looking forward to was curling up in bed beside his lover.

As he walks into the house it's dead silent, something that he hasn't experienced here in a long time. A knot forms in his brows as he looks around for his Ume.

Hanzo calls out their name as he walks thought the house. He finds himself in the kitchen, food is left on the table. Everything is cold and he sees their phone on a bench.

Hanzo moves thought the house even quicker looking for some sign of his partner only to come up empty handed as he searches.

He calls out their name multiple times looking despreatly for his lover. It's to late for them to be out and there isn't anywhere they could really go without having to call for Raiden...

Raiden!

As if hearing his name a crack of thunder and lightning echoes and illuminates the fire garden, Hanzo is our the door as quickly as he can make it. He is met with a sight of his lover and raiden walking towards the him.

"Thank you Raiden, don't know how I would have gotten to the hospital without your help, so thank you again." They thank him, their eyes flick to Hanzo who quickly makes his way to them.

They smile to Hanzo as he reach them his hands go to their face looking for any sign of injury. "Hi hun, I'm ok. Sorry for disappearing out of the blue. Family emergency" they say eyes closing gentle.

"Forgive us Grandmaster Hasashi, they needed to go to the hospital, I was the quickest method of transportation." Raiden apologise giving a small bow, he nods to them both before disappearing in another bolt of lightning.

"Are you alright?" He ask lightly, his lover nods before resting their head against his chest. "It's been a hell of a day, my Dad ended up in hospital and I got a call. Scared the hell out of me, I'm just glad he's ok and that I'm home now." They whisper.

"Let's go inside, you look tired" he replys earning a smile from his partner. "Cuddles on the couch?" They ask earning a small laugh for Hanzo. "Yes, cuddles on the couch then bed. We both need sleep"

‐---------‐

Ume- (Japanese) Apricot

‐------------

Kuai Laing

Kuai tries not to pace around yet all the Lin Kuei members can tell he is on edge. No one had brought it up but they all know something is not quite right.

The grandmaster for two days now has been in a tissy, his lover missing and he has no information on where they are, if they are alright or anything. So to say everyone is on edge would be an understatement.

Kuai had been thought every inch of the compound looking for his lover after he found their phone left in their room. But other then that it was like they just disappeared into thin air. He was desperate for anwsers.

He had to get one of the younger members to help him navigate his partners phone, it was something he didn't really have a use for until now. The phone had five miss calls on it.

After being showed the basics he decided to call the number. It's quite for a moment and Kuai almost thinks it isn't going to work. A voice of the end of the line nearly makes him jump, It's not someone he knows but he can hear his lover in the background.

"Hello is this Kuai?" It's a older man's voice gentle as he answers the phone. " Yes..?" He anwsers almost shyly. He can hear commotion in the background.

"Dad let me have the phone, he's probably worried sick!" He can hear his lover say only to hear a laugh from the man.

"Ok, ok. I'll let you talk to your man, heaven forbid I try and meet the boy" and wirh that the phone is passed over. He can hear his lover this time.

"Hey Kuai,sorry I disappeared. I was hoping you found my phone earlier and called" they laugh lightly. He can feel relief settle in his bones finally.

"Where are you Wǒ de ài?" He ask. "At hospital with my mother and father. Ahh my mum got rushed hear two days ago and I got a panicked call from my dad. So I left in a hurry, I'm really sorry I didn't let you know" they say over the phone. Both ends go quite.

"Is your mother alright?" He ask back finally sitting down. "She will be, she just gave us a massive scare. I should be back home in a few days, I miss you" that makes him smile lightly.

"I miss you too, Wǒ de ài. Please stay safe. Don't scare me liek that again, please" he pleads. A smile rest on his face.

"How much pacing did you do?" They ask as a joke. "Far to much Sweetheart". They share a small laugh. "Sorry Kuai, I have to go again but if I can I'll call you back later" they reply let ting him know.

"That's fine Wǒ de ài, just please stay safe and come back to me" he says before they both say good bye and hang up.

The next day Kuai isn't pacing and seems to be in a lot better mood, the rest of his clan seem to be alot more at ease now that he isn't freezing everything, everywhere he goes.

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

Wǒ de ài- my love (chinese)

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

Fujin

Being a god meant Fujin had duties all over, and it meant he didn't get to spend as much time with his lover ad he wished he could.

But they always made time for each other. Fujin finally getting out if the sky temple and having a day free, it be by your side. And today happened to be one of those days.

So it didn't supise him when he arrived at his lover home to find them not there. After all they also have thing they must do. So in turn he made himself comftable.

And enjoyed the silence, it wasn't often now that he could just indulge in such thing like taking a nap, So that what he did.

He hasn't expected to sleep until late. But when he woke up it was to a gentle kiss on the lips. "Hi Fujin, how long have you been here?"

His glowing eyes flick open gentle meeting his lovers gaze. " It was still morning, I must have had a longer sleep then I expected." He smiles to them.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here, I had to go to the hospital." They sigh lightly moving to lay against the God. Fujin wraps his arms around his lover, pulling them to rest against his chest as he rest his cheek against their head.

"Why did you have to go to hospital Himawari?" He ask lightly. Eyes closing lightly as he cuddles closer to his partner.

"Family emergency, my sibling ended up there and well, I was the one they wanted called. So... I had to go make sure they were ok so my parents don't kill them." His lover huff who a light laugh.

"Your family is lucky to have you Himawari. And I am also very lucky to have you." He hums lightly kissing their forehead.

"And I thought I was the lucky one to have a literal God as my boyfriend" they chuckle. Fujin continues to leave small kisses agaisnt their skin.

"I'm glad your alright, I'm sorry I haven't been around much, alot have been happening at the temple" Fujin says, his lover rolls over to rest their chest agaisnt his.

"Well I'm just happy to see you again, I missed you and right now I just want to stay here. I enjoy cuddling with you." They hum running their hands up his chest and then runs a hand thought his white locks.

"I love you" he says with a smile, his lover presses a soft kiss to his lips.

"I love you too Fujin"

-----------

Himawari- sunflower (Japanese)

---------

Raiden

Raiden knows just about everything that happens in the sky temple. And then one day it was like he knew nothing that was happening there.

Is lover had been missing all morning, they had missed today's meditation and training with Raiden, something they never did. He had wandered the temple, he looked everywhere and still no sign of his lover.

Normally he wouldn't be to worried about his partner but it has now been five hours of him looking for them. He has asked Liu Kang, kung lao and many of the monks if they had seen his partner. The only other person he could not find was his brother.

Raiden had nearly given up, on the verge of going to the elder gods, hoping that they could shed some light on his situation. But then his eyes land on his brother as he walks towards him with a smile and his lover follows behind.

"Fujin?, where have you two been?" The worry in his voice shows, Fujin just smiles and disappears. His eyebrows knot as he looks to his lover.

"Sorry we disappeared Raiden. A family emergency happened, Fujin was the first I could find so I asked him to take me to the hospital." They reply wrapping their arms around Raiden.

The thunder God sighs as he pulls his lover closer. His head rested against their shoulder.

"Are you well?, why were you at a hospital" he ask look ikng his partner over for any injuries only to find nothing.

"My sibling did themselves in good. Had to be rushed in to the EMR so well, I had to go make sure they were alright, I'm just happy to be home now" they sigh. He can feel The tension in their body fade away.

"Can we go and lay down, to days been alot" they say again, Raiden doesn't reply just picks his lover up and begins to make his way back to there room.

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celestialarchon · 4 years ago

Text

Celebrating 600+ Followers

i can’t believe i’m writing another celebration post less than two days after my first

this has been rotting in my head all day and might become a series in the future

Genshin Impact x F!Reader | Modernish AU | warning: it’s cute!

“I hope you don’t mind, we gave you a student teacher as well. It’s only fair since you were given the most troublesome class,” Headmistress Ping smiled at you warmly.

“Ah,” You nodded, “Thats fine.”

The elder woman patted your back, “Genshin Academy is truly lucky to have you. Your track record is impressive and you have an extremely rare vision. I think you’ll get along fairly well with Mr. Aether, he’s a good kid.”

You smiled at her, honored by her words. Genshin Academy, the elite and prestigious school, had taken you as a teacher. The education system was impressive and diverse, teaching elementary to college aged students. You were given the first year elementary school students and now a student teacher as well. No matter how troublesome the class may be, having assistance would be appreciated. If it didn’t, the extraordinary pay would make up for any issues you had.

The older woman walked you to the doors of the building and then left you to prepare yourself. Clutching your class roster, you stepped in and made your way to your classroom. When you entered your room, you were greeted by a young blonde man. He introduced himself as your assistant teacher and made some small talk before leaving you to prepare for the day. You appreciated his thoughtfulness as you tidied the room up a bit, smiling at your class pet, Dvalin.

Soon enough, the children poured in and greeted each other and you. Aether returned to the room, beaming at each child. You took attendance, ticking off each name as they all answered. Qiqi, Teucer, Klee, and Diona seemed to be the most lively of them all. They were also marked with asterisks as the worst “troublemakers” but so far things were running smoothly.

“Welcome, my name is Miss Bright,” You beamed at the children, “Let’s have a good year, okay?”

“Wow, you’re very pretty Miss Bright!” An energetic Teucer exclaimed.

Klee squealed, “I’m so excited!”

Diona scoffed and Qiqi nodded in agreement. You went through the motions, following your detailed curriculum perfectly. There were two separate general subjects, academics and control. One was simple enough, teaching the kids by the book. The other was all about assisting your students in controlling and growing their abilities as vision users.

By the end of the day you were exhausted. Soon enough the week flew by. As Friday came, you were exhausted. Most people had made these kids out to be terrible and mischievous, and in some ways they were. Yet, you had already grown very fond of all of them. They were much more tame than you had expected, save for some explosions and outbursts. Now you were stuck as some of the children were late being picked up.

“I hope my big brother gets a girlfriend like Miss Bright. She’s so nice and pretty.” You overheard Teucer whisper to the last three kids.

“Oh yeah!” Klee’s whispers weren’t whispers at all, “She’s like a princess. My brother is a prince. I wish he’d marry Miss Bright.”

“Tch,” Diona intervened, “Honestly, I wish Miss Bright had adopted me instead of that annoying man at home.”

“Qiqi thinks Xiao and Zhongli would like Miss Bright a lot.”

You giggled at their words, they were too sweet. Aether chuckled overhearing them as well and waving you off.

“Go finish up your paperwork, I’ll take care of them.” The cheerful blonde nearly pushed you out the door.

You sighed and made your way to the office up front. Paperwork was such a drag, not nearly as fun as over hearing those brats gossiping. The paperwork ended up taking up the rest of your time. By the time you were done you wanted to scream. As you left the office, a handful of coworkers approached you and invited you out. No was not an option as they insisted you let them treat you.

You were exhausted as they led you to their favorite bar. Aether followed like a lost puppy and you sighed.

“You can’t drink can you?” You questioned him.

“Ahhh,” Aether started but was interrupted.

“It’s fine! I know the owner. He doesn’t have to drink he can just babysit us.” Venti exclaimed.

Poor Aether couldn’t get out of it either. Once you entered the bar, things blurred. Immediately, your coworkers bought you many drinks. Venti was especially aggressive about drinking. The short music teacher was babbling to an extremely handsome bartender with vibrant red hair.

The scarlet haired man seemed to be a bit annoyed by the drunken chaos ensuing. Amber was giggling crazily and the school nurse, Baizhu had cornered a tall man with amber eyes, and Ganyu was petting you. Aether was awkwardly fidgeting, stone cold sober. Eventually, your poor student teacher ended up having to call a cab and carry you home. He was forced to try and navigate to your cozy apartment by unlocking your phone with your drunken face. It took way too many attempts.

You awoke the next day with a pounding headache and over a hundred notifications. The night was still a blur so you proceeded to try and take care of yourself. Aether was kind enough to go out and buy you some pain medicine and left it on your counter with your keys. It was embarrassing how you couldn’t find any memories of your adventures in liquor.

The weekend flew by until Sunday night came and your phone buzzed. You looked down and horror filled your body. Tomorrow was parent conferences. It wasn’t mandatory for parents but encouraged. Suddenly, you were tearing through your apartment trying to prepare for the upcoming doom.

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Before you knew it, parent conferences were upon you. Aether wasn’t attending because it wasn’t mandatory and you insisted he go home and rest. He had done so much for you already, you didn’t want him to suffer through it with you. You looked up as somebody knocked on your class door and opened it to see two beautiful blondes.

“Hello, is this Miss Bright’s room?” The woman’s blue eyes met yours.

“Yes,” You held your hand out, “Hello, I’m Miss Bright.”

The woman shook your hand, “I am Jean, Klee’s guardian. This is her older brother Albedo.”

The young man’s beautiful eyes bore into you as he shook your hand. You stepped aside and gestured to the tables in your room. The two took their seats and almost immediately a tall red haired man sauntered up to you.

“Hello!” His tone was cheerful, “I’m Childe, Teucer’s older brother!”

“A pleasure to meet you, Childe. I am Miss Bright.”

“Ah,” a crooked smile formed on his lips, “The pleasure is all mine. You are just as beautiful as Teucer claimed.”

You blushed and laughed nervously, but before you could answer he was shoved into your room. He turned to glare at the two dark haired men in the doorway. Huffing, he found his way to a table and sat.

“So annoying.” The shorter of the two men scowled.

The taller one sighed, “Hello, Miss Bright. My name is Zhongli, and this is my cousin Xiao. We are Qiqi’s foster family.”

Xiao stomped past you, Zhongli followed him quickly. You didn’t have time to introduce yourself to either of them before they sat down.

“How rude,” A smooth voice came from your door.

Two men stood there, a tan man with dark hair and a very familiar red head. Internally, you groaned at the sight of the bartender. It was going to be a long conference wasn’t it? You were glad you had organized your agenda so well.

“Diluc. Guardian of Diona, and this is my brother Kaeya.” The redhead said almost sternly.

He strolled through the doorway to sit at a table, all four families spread out. Kaeya winked at you and followed his brother. Now you were sure the night would be long.

No other families came, and you were left alone with the strange bunch. In the back of your mind, you were thinking of your roster and the asterisks. The irony in all of it was that the troublemaker’s parents were the only ones who showed. The room was quiet, families only talking among themselves. You cleared your throat and introduced yourself once more, starting in to your very planned speech.

A short time had passed but it felt like years to you. You felt incredibly awkward but continued on. Childe raised his hand which nearly made you laugh but you contained your amusement and paused.

“Yes?” You called out to him.

The lanky man smirked, “I’m sorry but what sort of vision do you use?”

“I will address that later on.” Your voice was kind but also stern.

This response earned several looks from the families listening. All of a sudden, their full attention was on you. The change of atmosphere had put you on edge. You tried to continue on but Childe stood abruptly.

“That’s an interesting response.” He chuckled.

“Tartaglia!” Jean intervened, “Thats enough.”

Kaeya kicked his feet up on the table, “You can’t say you’re not curious though, right? It’s only natural we want to know. This school has just as much focus on vision skills as academic skills.”

You were beginning to grow irritated. The children were more respectful than the adults. Composing yourself, you sighed. Nobody denied Kaeya’s words, although Zhongli and Jean seemed to disapprove of the attitude.

“As i said before i will-“ you were interrupted again by an arrow of water, you easily side stepped it.

Jean stood, sword in hand and glared at Childe. Diluc shoved his brother’s feet off the table and scowled. Albedo yawned while Xiao clicked his tongue. Zhongli merely observed the scene. Childe cackled at Jean which only angered her more as she dove at him.

You opened your mouth to say something but were forced to dodge a cold sword. Kaeya grinned at you but was yanked back by Zhongli. The room was in utter chaos. You gritted your teeth and once more tried to remain calm. Another arrow narrowly missed your ear and you felt yourself become enraged. Kaeya dodged Zhongli and thrust his sword at you but was stopped by a sharp pillar of light.

“That’s enough.” Your voice was cold as you used your own weapon to shove the pushy cryo wielder away from you.

As if by magic, suddenly everyone stopped to stare at you. Quickly, they sat down. Albedo’s eyes were alert now, he was suddenly interested in every word you had to say. Even Xiao seemed to have a better attitude.

You continued your speech without any further interruptions. Finally, the end was in sight.

“And to answer your earlier question,” You pushed your hair back behind your ear to reveal your vision on an earring, “I am a light wielder. I will not take any questions on it. Have a wonderful night and thank you for coming.”

You turned and exited your classroom quickly as murmurs spread across the room. Light visions were only gifted to those who were recognized by multiple gods. Light was a strange element that could mold itself and change to take shape of different elements, although it wasn’t perfect. Elemental mastery took a lot of time and the light could only bend to your will for short periods of time. Using light as anything other than itself could backfire easily. Ontop of the many complications, attaining a light vision meant going through a crisis so terrible that multiple gods had to intervene. It was a blessing and a curse.

As you headed home, shivers ran down your back. You couldn’t help but feel that you were being watched or followed. You shook it off and returned home. It was just paranoid thoughts after a rough night.

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After the conference, you seemed to be plagued by the families. Outside of work you ran into them constantly. It was nerve wracking.

“Miss Bright, Teucer loves you so much. He’d love to see you on the weekend. We could get lunch and then have a play date with him. What do ya say?” Childe grinned at you as you exited your classroom.

“Sorry, sir” An arm slid around your shoulders, “But i’m afraid she has plans for this weekend.”

You looked up to see the school librarian with a tight smile. Lisa was so kind, saving you from his shameless flirting. Although, she often seemed to flirt with you as well. You couldn’t really tell if she was being nice or flirting though.

He scowled and turned. Lisa laughed and squeezed you tighter. She escorted you out of the building, telling you about the new books the library had just received. Her eyes twinkled as you laughed at her puns and asked her questions about being a librarian.

“Excuse me,” A deep voice said “May I have a moment of Miss Bright’s time?”

You turned to see Zhongli, one of the only reasonable guardians you’d met. So far you’d not seen him after the meeting so you felt safer around him. Even Jean had appeared before you several times, though it didn’t seem intentional. You weren’t entirely sure but you’d swore you’d even seen Xiao lurking around when you were out.

“Of course,” You waved Lisa off.

She frowned and kissed your cheek before sauntering off. Zhongli raised his eyebrows as you laughed, clearly embarrassed. The nerve of that woman sometimes.

“Sorry, she’s a friend but she’s very affectionate,” you apologized quickly.

“Hm,” Zhongli nodded and stared at you intently, “I’m sorry to bother you but is there a way I could schedule another meeting with you? I would like to hear about Qiqi’s progress.”

Your heart nearly melted. He was so kind and it was refreshing.

“Of course! How about this weekend?” You beamed at him.

The two of you scheduled a conference lunch and parted ways. From afar, Diluc grimaced. He was curious about Diona’s behavior in school. She was a very moody child. Furthermore, he was curious about you. Kaeya had also pestered you for a date so the scarlet haired man was trying to find the right time to ask you. He didn’t want to come off the way he was sure Kaeya did.

“I would also like to attend the meeting.” Xiao announced to Zhongli once he got into the car.

“Too bad,” Zhongli chuckled “It’s one on one, you’ll have to schedule your own.”

Xiao huffed at his words. He disliked the idea of the two of you doing anything one on one. He couldn’t decide whether he was jealous of you or Zhongli. He decided it was you, since both Qiqi and Zhongli seemed to be infatuated with you. He clicked his tongue, Zhongli merely smiled, and Qiqi demanded coco goat milk.

“Does she like science?” Albedo questioned Klee.

“Miss Bright likes a lot of things I think.” Klee said, ice cream smeared on her face.

“I want to know more.” Albedo stated.

Klee grinned, “More ice cream?”

Albedo nodded, only hoping Jean wouldn’t catch them.

This new job had many opportunities open up for you. With so many people in pursuit of you, who would you choose?

#genshin impact #genshin impact xiao #genshin x reader #xiao x reader #genshin impact imagines #albedo x reader #jean x reader #genshin impact zhongli #zhongli x reader #master diluc #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #genshin lisa #genshin liyue #genshin mondstadt

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thebiscuiteternal · 3 years ago

Text

“Paper Scraps”

Post-Canon, Angst, Hurt/Comfort...ish?, Reconciliation, Discussion of Suicidal Ideation, Ghosts, Implied Sangyu, Mo Xuanyu Gets To Be Mourned, Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang Are Going Through It

Series Link on Ao3

__________

"To what do I owe the surprise visit?'' Nie Huaisang asks, and his voice is so devoid of emotion that Wei Wuxian has to bite back a shudder, suddenly very much aware that he is treading in completely new and potentially dangerous territory.

Nie-xiong is as dead as his beloved elder brother, and the Headshaker was nothing more than a mask. All that's left now is Nie-zongzhu, whom he knows nothing about and threatened the last time they actually spoke to each other in person.

Still, he sucks up his nerve and plasters on one of his usual careless smiles. "We need to talk, you and I. Just you and I."

"Wei Ying-"

He holds up a hand to cut off Lan Zhan's protest. "How about it?"

"And what, exactly, do you think there is for us to discuss, Wei-xiansheng? Have I not been behaving well enough for your liking?"

Ouch.

"Okay, I deserved that," Wei Wuxian says as he waves off his defensive husband and friend a second time, suddenly wishing he'd just snuck out and come alone.

Then again, that probably wouldn't have gone well either, judging by the wary looks he keeps getting from the handful of Nie disciples who linger defensively near their sect leader.

Okay... okay. No more trying to joke around. He takes a deep breath and lets it out, then straightens his back. "I'm here about Mo Xuanyu."

Nie Huaisang’s face betrays nothing, but the fan in his hand snaps shut with enough force that it's audible throughout the room. “Everyone, please escort our other two guests to the main gardens so that we may speak privately.”

“Zongzhu-” one massive bear of a man starts to protest.

At the same time Lan Zhan moves in front of Wei Wuxian to growl “We are not going anywhere,” and the tension in the room ratchets sharply to hair-on-end levels as the situation threatens to turn into a standoff.

Wei Wuxian pinches the bridge of his nose to stave off a building headache, then reaches out in an attempt to tug his husband back. “Lan Zhan. I’m the one who requested a one-on-one meeting, remember? Literally just now?”

“He cannot be truste-”

“Wei-gongzi, he might-”

“Enough,” Nie Huaisang snaps, the unexpected whip-crack of his voice making them all, a few disciples included, jump. “Let me remind all three of you that you came here and none of you are required to stay. In fact, today would be much improved if you didn’t.”

“Lan Zhan.” Wei Wuxian hisses.

Lan Zhan doesn’t budge, hand still tight on the hilt of Bichen. “If you harm Wei Ying-”

“Yes, yes, you and the Ghost General will cut me open and hang me with my own entrails just to start with,” Nie Huaisang replies irritably, giving a dismissive wave of the closed fan. “I’m well aware.”

Judging by the startled and utterly appalled looks that cross Lan Zhan and Wen Ning’s faces, that had decidedly not been on the list of options of what they might potentially do. But the descriptive suggestion does work to knock them off guard, and Wei Wuxian bites his tongue hard to keep his expression neutral as the two of them are herded out without any more fuss after Nie Huaisang makes a short gesture to his disciples. “You did that on purpose.”

Nie Huaisang turns without responding to the jibe at all and walks off towards another door.

Ouch again.

He trots after the other man and falls into step beside him as they enter a hallway that’s clearly not for public use. Part of him wants to ask where they’re going, if just to break the uncomfortable silence, but he keeps his mouth shut.

They finally stop at a door that, when Nie Huaisang slides it open, leads to a tiny garden so deep in the sect's keep that the back wall of it is cut into the mountain itself.

And in that little carved out cave, shielded from wind and rain and snow, sits a funeral tablet on a table shrine.

Wei Wuxian involuntarily sucks a sharp breath through his teeth at the sight of it, his hand coming up to clutch at his chest. Guilt wells up hot and stinging and bitter in his stomach, then higher into his throat. Dizzy, he sways on his feet and is only vaguely aware of the hands that catch him.

Once his resurrection had been revealed, everyone simply accepted him as “Wei Wuxian”, not “Wei-Wuxian-In-Mo-Xuanyu’s-Body”, seemingly having just... forgotten that the face he has now once belonged to someone else. He had grown so settled into this body that until the dreams had begun, he had barely given Mo Xuanyu a second thought.

But right at this moment, staring at the name carved into that tablet, held up by the one person left who had remembered- had loved the original owner of this body enough to memorialize him, he has never felt more like an invader in it.

His vision, gone fuzzy from the sickening torrent of emotion, slowly begins to come back into focus and, for just a moment, he is staring through Mo Xuanyu’s eyes into the worried expression of Nie-xiong before the lingering memory clears to the more neutral face of Nie-zongzhu.

He is on the ground, his head in the man’s lap, and the sudden urge to cry hits him hard. “Do you hate me?” he asks without meaning to, voice coming out plaintive and half-strangled by his effort to hold back the tears.

“You were the one who decided there was nothing left between us worth salvaging.”

“I did. And it was stupid. But that’s not what I mean, and you know it. Do you hate me for having this face?”

There is a pause, then a quiet sigh. “No, I don’t.”

“Why?”

“If it wasn’t you, it would be someone else. Or something else. Yu-er was…”

Nie Huaisang turns his head away, expression softening into a complicated mix sadness and pain, and Wei Wuxian finds himself thinking that while ‘his’ Nie-xiong might be dead, Mo Xuanyu’s Nie-xiong might still exist somewhere deep under the protective layers of Nie-zongzhu.

He swallows hard, then makes himself sit up and looks again at the tablet and its small offerings.

“Determined,” he says quietly, finishing the sentence. A tiny wet laugh bubbles out of his throat. “I thought… I really did believe that you had forced him into it,” he continues, and in the edge of his vision, he sees Nie Huaisang flinch at the accusation. “But no. No. He... really was determined to see it out to the end.”

“How do you-”

“Ah.” He scratches his cheek, then scoots to face the other man. “That’s actually the reason I needed to talk to you. I’ve been seeing- fuck, dreaming his memories, I guess… though they were more like nightmares, considering what was in them-”

“Wait,” Nie Huaisang says, holding up a hand. “When did this start?”

“Mmh. Just a little over ten months ago, I think? Or maybe closer to eleven. The first one was of your visit right after his mother died.”

Nie Huaisang goes slightly pale at that, though whether it’s from the admission of the length of time or the contents of the memory, Wei Wuxian can’t tell.

He gets an answer when Nie Huaisang gets up and rushes to the table, returning with something carefully cradled in his hands.

It’s a spirit pouch.

His hands are shaking as he holds them out to accept the tiny burden, and he’s vaguely aware that he’s gaping like a fish. “Huaisang…” he chokes out when he finally manages to find his voice again, but that’s as far as he gets.

“I… have studied a lot of ways of finding and contacting the dead,” Nie Huaisang says, and Wei Wuxian nods along numbly because that makes a ridiculous amount of sense, given the circumstances. “I know what the ritual notes said, but seeing that there was still something left of Da-ge after everything that had been done to him…”

He reaches out and touches the pouch and Wei Wuxian finds himself thinking of a gentle hand ruffling his (but not his) hair.

“I’m just sorry it took me two years to get up the nerve to go looking.”

But you went, Wei Wuxian thinks. You went.

He’d never even considered it. It had never crossed his mind at all.

“Eleven months ago, right?” he asks, voice still a little squeaky.

“Mm-hmm. I should have written to you about this long before now, but it seemed like every time I’d prepared myself to send the letter, something would happen that would remind me that… well.”

That we’re not friends anymore.

That you want nothing to do with me.

Wei Wuxian closes his eyes and rests his hands in his lap, still holding the pouch as if it’s made of porcelain instead of cloth. “I probably wouldn’t have read it,” he confesses quietly. “Or I would have, but I wouldn’t have believed you. I would have thought it was a ruse, a setup-” A tiny, wounded laugh escapes his mouth and he tilts his head back to stare up at the sky. “Maybe that’s why I started having the dreams. His way of telling me I’m an idiot.”

“A little drastic on his part if it was.”

“Can’t say it wasn’t necessary.” The pouch gives a jangling, discordant little hum when he pets it, the fracturing of the soul within vastly different from what he’d felt from Xiao Xingchen. The pieces feel smaller and fewer, yet heavier. “Oh,” he murmurs when he realizes why.

“Oh?”

“The array was designed to consume the resentment of the caster based on negative memories of the person or persons they wanted to curse. That’s why the memories of you and the flashes of his mother were so vivid when the rest of them weren’t. That’s why you were able to find these pieces. He really did see you two as the only bright spots in his life, so those memories were spared.”

Nie Huaisang makes a choked noise in the back of his throat, and when Wei Wuxian turns his head, the other man is looking away in a clear attempt to hide his expression. “He was wrong.”

“A year ago, I would have agreed,” Wei Wuxian mumbles. “After everything he showed me, though… I don’t think he was. I get it.”

He takes a deep breath. He has never talked about this, not with Lan Zhan, not with Wen Ning, and certainly not with Jiang Cheng, even if they are taking tentative baby steps towards being less awkward around each other. He’s not sure he should be talking about it with Nie Huaisang either, but-

“I know what it’s like, just wanting everything to end. Deciding the whole world can go to hell. Maybe I didn’t intend for the backlash from breaking the seal to kill me, but I sure didn’t fucking care what it would do to me one way or another. Nothing and nobody could have saved me by that point. You couldn’t have saved him even if you’d dragged him home with you like Lan Zhan wanted to do to me.”

“Wei Wuxian-”

He ignores the little flutter in his chest that they’ve at least moved back to an address that feels less precarious than the icy ‘Wei-xiansheng’. “Let me finish, okay?”

“Okay.”

“So... So... Ah, fuck,” he mutters, gently shifting the pouch so he can scratch the back of his neck, trying to catch the lost trail of thought. “You know… I never questioned the clothing I woke up in when I was resurrected. As brutal and nasty as the Mo family were and as disgusting as that little shack was, it should have come off as weird that I was wearing such nice robes.”

There is a quiet sniffle, and Wei Wuxian pretends not to see Nie Huaisang wipe wet eyes with the edge of a sleeve as he continues talking. “He appreciated those. Appreciated that you tried to take care of him.”

He raises the pouch to eye level, and it gives another little crackly hum. “And clearly he still appreciates your efforts, considering his method of dragging me here to make me apologize for thinking the worst of your relationship. So, I’m sorry for that.”

Nie Huaisang gives a watery little chuckle and swipes at his eyes again. “Accepted. Is he… Is he alright? I only know how to contact souls, I don’t know anything about tending to them.”

“Honestly… I’m not sure what can be done,” Wei Wuxian admits as he begins another examination. “There’s really so little of him left, I don’t know what will happen if a purification ritual is attempted. He seems to be more stable as he is than Xiao Xingchen was, but there’s no guarantee he’ll stay like that. Still, I owe it to him to find some way to help him out, so I’ll do what I can.”

“If it would be easier for you to take him back to the Cloud Recesses for study, then… then you should,” Nie Huaisang says, and Wei Wuxian is a little bit impressed that he was able to make the offer despite how much it must have hurt.

“I think he’d be much happier staying here,” he says, then tentatively adds, “But that would mean visits, plural, and while I’m definitely going to have a very long talk with them about all this, I doubt I’ll be able to come without either Lan Zhan or Wen Ning… probably both at first.”

Nie Huaisang rubs his temples with his fingertips, his expression cycling through a complicated series of emotions too quickly for Wei Wuxian to follow, then he sighs. “We’ll figure something out,” he says as he reaches out and takes back the pouch.

Wei Wuxian can’t help smiling at the tender way he cradles it against his chest as he gets up to approach the funeral tablet and put it back in place. “Yeah. We’ll figure something out.”

#mdzs #wei wuxian #nie huaisang #mo xuanyu #not tagging the cameos #sangyu #fanfic

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years ago

Text

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 3 - ao3 -

The closing ceremony of the discussion conference was dignified and serene, as appropriate for an event hosted by the Lan sect, and after it was done everyone milled around to chat a little more before starting to break off into groups to leave.

The leaders of the Great Sects naturally gathered together.

They were an unusual mix. Wen Ruohan was the eldest by an entire generation, technically hailing from the generation of Lan Qiren’s grandfather even if his extraordinary cultivation made him seem as young as Lan Qiren’s brother; after him there was Lan Qiren’s father and the Jiang sect leader, Jiang Menglin, who themselves were a generation above their younger counterparts from the Nie and Jin clans – Jin Guangshan especially, having only inherited his position in the past year.

Lan Qiren’s brother stood beside them, speaking with them with his head held high. Their father planned to slowly transition sect leadership to him over the next half-decade so that he himself might be allowed to retire from the mundane world to focus on cultivation, as Lan An ultimately did. In accordance with that plan, he had allowed him to take the lead on hosting certain small events at the discussion conference, like the night-hunting.

Lan Qiren was there, too.

He was lurking as far to the back of the platform as he could get, trying simultaneously to perfectly reflect his sect’s expectations for proper behavior while also doing his utmost to remain beneath anyone’s notice – Lao Nie had caught his gaze at one point and winked, a friendly older man’s indulgence of a junior, but that was in large part unavoidable given the man’s gregarious personality – and enjoying the rare moment in which he could see his father at something other than a distance.

He usually only saw his father when he was brought before him to report on his achievements, typically once a month. When he was younger, he had been accompanied by one of his teachers, who would report on him while Lan Qiren anxiously examined his father’s face for signs of approval; now that he was older, he went by himself, dipping into a deep salute as he recited anything of interest, and sometimes if he really exerted himself his father would reward him with a word of praise.

Lan Qiren was only allowed to stand with the rest of them on the basis of a technicality – his father hadn’t officially transferred power to his eldest son and wouldn’t for a while yet, so he had brought along both of them on the transparent excuse that they could provide company for Jin Guangshan and Lao Nie as members of the same generation. It was very much a technicality in Lan Qiren’s case, given his much younger age; he fell on the very tail end of their generation on account of the circumstances of his belated birth.

Lan Qiren’s birth was very late to allow him to be considered a peer to those a decade or more older than him, in fact, but that was the way of things.

He was a child of duty, rather than pleasure.

His parents had been very much in love, as was the Lan sect’s way, and together they had had two sons and a daughter within six years, each one of them deeply beloved. But perhaps their joy had been too complete, because the heavens had not permitted it to last: they lost their younger son and daughter both – one to an unexpected illness, the other to an accident. Their eldest, Lan Qiren’s brother, was still there, but it would have been irresponsible to have only a single heir to a Great Sect. Accordingly, under great pressure from the sect elders, they had sought to have another child, only to fail time and time again, enduring countless miscarriages and stillbirths alike.

There had even been some debate as to whether such a situation permitted the sect leader to take on a concubine, regardless of custom or even his own wishes. Desperate to prevent such a result, Lan Qiren’s mother had inadvisedly taken certain drugs to encourage conception and at last Lan Qiren had been successfully born in a slow and bloody labor that had sapped his mother’s already poor health. She had died a few years later, suffering a recurrence of the infection left behind from his birth. Lan Qiren had been too young to really remember her, but he knew that his brother had blamed him for her loss ever since.

He sometimes wondered if his father did, too.

Of course, unlike his brother, his father had never said as much. As the Lan sect leader, he was graceful and refined, educated and reserved, a venerable and venerated cultivator; it was widely agreed that he would never have planned to retire so early if it hadn’t been for losing his true love all those years ago. Perhaps he might even have been another Wen Ruohan, seemingly ageless, striving for immortality – at any rate, he would never be so petty as to mistreat a person due to the circumstances beyond their control. It was something he had heard that his father had said from one of the other Lan sect juniors, and at any rate it was in the rules, and Lan Qiren believed in the rules.

Besides, it wasn’t a surprise that Lan Qiren would be an afterthought in comparison to his brother, the already famous Qingheng-jun, who his father treasured like a pearl cupped in his palm. His brother was the much-anticipated first child of his father’s happy youth, the reminder of good days gone by, a child who had survived the misfortunes that had taken his siblings, and Lan Qiren’s brother repaid his father’s adoration with strength, intelligence, and endless potential. He was a cultivation maniac, yet good at managing the other juniors; he was cold and aloof, elegant, yet capable of being personable and even charming when needed. He was one of the shining stars of his generation, already a powerful cultivator and a respected gentleman even though he’d only just passed twenty-one. Even the name which he was commonly called, Qingheng-jun, was a rarity, a personal title unusual in this peaceful day and age.

Lan Qiren, in contrast, was slow and clumsy, with only average cultivation skills and positively dire social skills. While his teachers praised his strong academic skills and musical talent, the Lan sect followed first and foremost the orthodox path of swordsmanship; once his weakness in that area had been discovered, many of his sect elders lost interest in him as anything other than the inferior back-up plan that he was.

Undoubtedly that was why, when Wen Ruohan turned to Lan Qiren’s father and said, “Your son is a credit to you,” everyone assumed he was talking about Qingheng-jun.

“Sect Leader Wen does him too much honor,” their father said, clearly pleased despite his deprecating words. After all, Wen Ruohan, Sect Leader Wen, was well known to be extraordinarily sparing with his praise for any who didn’t share his bloodline or surname. “My unworthy son is still young and foolish. His eyes are always fixed upon cultivation, never straying – he doesn’t even spare time for girls, despite his advancing years!”

The other sect leaders were smiling, and Lao Nie already opening his mouth to say something teasing, when Wen Ruohan said, “I meant your other son.”

Lan Qiren wasn’t prepared at all for all the sect leaders to turn to look at him.

He shrunk back.

“Qiren?” his father said, almost as if he were checking to confirm that that was the right name, a trace of doubt in his voice even as Lan Qiren’s brother’s face went white with humiliation. “I didn’t realize you’d had a chance to hear him play.”

“Regrettably I have not yet had that pleasure,” Wen Ruohan said, a slightly strange expression on his face. “We merely exchanged some charming conversation, that’s all. Is that his most notable skill?”

“His accomplishments as a musical cultivator are sufficient to rank him among the adults of his already talented sect,” Lao Nie volunteered when there was a brief pause, and Lan Qiren’s father was quick to smile and nod along. “You missed out, Sect Leader Wen.”

“Perhaps another time,” Wen Ruohan said, his return smile still strange and almost subtly displeased, though Lan Qiren would hardly trust himself to know for sure.

At that point, Jiang Menglin spoke up, changing the subject, and most everyone joined in, all of them evidently relieved – not least of all Lan Qiren himself, who had started wondering if there was some way he could become invisible or else fall into a deep chasm that might conveniently open up beneath his feet.

Nothing more was said on the subject until the ceremony was done and the last of their guests departed, when Lan Qiren’s brother tracked him down and hissed, “What did you do?”

“Nothing!” Lan Qiren cried out. “We only talked!”

“You mean you talked at him the way you always do – ”

Their father cleared his throat, having come up behind them, and they both turned at once and dropped into deep salutes.

“Do not think about it too much,” he said, voice distant as the cold wind on a winter night. “Sect Leader Wen sometimes likes to make trouble for the sake of making trouble, especially if he thinks he has found a weakness. You will need to be on your guard against that when you are sect leader.”

He was talking to Lan Qiren’s brother, of course. Lan Qiren could count, and had, the number of times his father addressed him directly in a given year, but it was only reasonable – he wasn’t the heir, doomed to take on the burden of leadership, and so there was much less his father needed to say to him.

“Yes, Father,” his brother said. “I’ll remember.”

“Do not trouble your younger brother over nonsense.”

Lan Qiren felt his brother’s angry gaze like a flame against his skin, even if it wasn’t anywhere as weighty as Wen Ruohan’s. He did not understand what he had done wrong, whether to Wen Ruohan to decide to make trouble using his name or to his brother now that had made him angry, but that wasn’t so much different from the usual.

“Very well, Father,” his brother said. “I won’t.”

#mdzs #lan qiren #qingheng-jun #wen ruohan #my fic #my fics #spilled pearls

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lostsoulaltair · 4 years ago

Text

Genshin Impact - Twins Personalities

This is the second time I touch topics related to Genshin Impact, while it’s true Honkai Impact 3rd stays more to my heart than Genshin, I must say in terms of gameplay Genshin is pretty good, I’ve had fun like most players or so I want to believe.

One of the topics I’d like to discuss is the twins personalities which is something that I’ve noticed with time and how people tend to point out a personality related to PV or Update trailers.

P.S: Before starting, this analysis isn’t focused to discuss if Aether is the MC and Lumine is the antagonist.

Both are viewed as MCs since there are two sides to play the game; the game itself gives free will to choose who the MC of the story will be, therefore, I hope this can be followed suit with proper respect.

Analysis are held within a neutral view.

First of all, let’s talk about the intro of the game, when the twins appear for the first time along their fateful meeting with the Goddess.

But before we proceed, there’s something I must highlight.

Within the Genshin Fandom, I want to believe some parts tend to use EN VA, other part uses JP VA or CN VA; I don’t know in terms of KR VA but I must remark that VA change a lot the perception of both protagonists/antagonists.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vhyRv8Ly1ag

(The video is not mine but for example, I use JP VA since I got used to the dynamic with Honkai Impact 3rd; and of course, the CN VA are really good as well, just by looking at Shattered Samsara which is HI3rd’s latest CG Animation, speaks a lot about the VA).

1. Combat

1.1 Aether’s Combat personality

Aether’s battlestyle relies a lot on his strength and energy, it is needless to say he’s the older among between the two and of course, he displays the protective elder brother figure, backing up his sister when it comes to fights. But, within this, it is to say that in battles, specially against unknown enemies, such display of talent leads to two issues:

Exceeding confidence and talent/weapon mastery

Within the trailer, one of the things many admired from Aether is how he displayed his sword technique, among this, there was a YouTube user that made a comparison between the twin’s swordstyle which relies a lot on how they choose to fight.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pb0ugVuVMtY

Aether and Lumine swordstyle and elemental abilities

In Aether’s case, he is straightforward within his swordstyle attacks, his first pattern can reflect his first goal which is to break defense from the enemy, following suit a horizontal slash, moving forward to more patterns that aim to break the stance of the enemy, following suit to gather momentum and lastly delivering the final strike along traces of elemental attack which depends of player’s choice.

It could be said that Aether’s swordstyle relies a lot in technique and mastery but within this, and focusing with the intro, it grows into overconfidence, but why?

The reason goes to how the intro is explained itself. It gives an insight that Aether and Lumine cover each other’s back to the point they only need themselves to make a good combination against any enemy that comes in front of them, but within this, it also goes to their weakness; such weakness is overconfidence against anything which is why they easily lost to the Unknown Goddess and why both got separated.

gif belongs to kumiiko

1.2 Lumine’s Combat personality

When it comes to Lumine, it must be said that she’s not focused on displaying her talents with the sword or how she manipulates it compared to Aether in the FIrst Cutscene which leads the players to choose one of the twins; instead, it is displayed that Lumine is more collected in battle, she is very aware of what her brother might have in mind in terms of combat which is why both rely on each others support to face down or strike down enemies.

Making a comparson again with the video provided by a YouTube user, Lumine’s attacks are indeed more refined and elegant, she uses her body in order to gain momentum.

Her first strike is an horizontal slash which of course, in combat scenario would lead to an evental clash against another warrior, followed suit, it goes Aether’s first strike, which is aimed to break the defense of the enemy she might be facing, leading to a spin that gives momentum to the sword wielder, delivering a strike with more strength and eventually, leading to the common release of elemental attack which depends a lot on the choice of the player.

In terms of disadvantage, Lumine’s attack patterns indeed are more refined, which of course, gives openings to the enemies and thus, it could be said that this gives away why both rely and are aware of their own attack patterns to cover each other’s back.

2. Personalities outside combat

It isn’t required to say that both hold a touch of sassy moments within the game, among this, it is visible which of them tends to be more expressive and this of course goes for Lumine.

P.S: I’m not saying Aether is not expressive.

Due to Lumine’s design, it is more visible to see her facial expressions easier or rather, it could be said her expressions are more defined compared to Aether, of course, there are moments on which Aether’s facial expressions give away the best laugh for many players.

But for this, let’s focus on each of the twins.

2.1 Aether’s personality

Thanks to the constant footage Aether recieves with each update, it is to say that Aether is a rather emotional character, he tends to have a strong calm demanor but nevertheless, he does have a soft heart when it comes to his sister; and this is heavily seen in the Trailer of 1.3 which took part of the Lantern Rite (which of course, was quite a down in terms of what it was expected inside the game)

So far, he displays a lot of sadness and specially grief, but why?

Due to the fact that Aether is the older sibling between them, even if they state they play rock paper scissors to decide certain stuff, Aether carries grief due to the loss of his sister; and of course, when it comes to celebrations, he wishes he could have his sister with him and due to the stream of 1.4 and that battle that will make many players shiver depending of the choice, his personality comes to full terror to see his sister on the other side, fighting with those who strike to destroy the peaceful days of Teyvant.

When it comes to positive aspects or rather, when there are good moments, Aether personality tends to be more calm, nevertheless, he does express happiness if anything’s going well.

2.2 Lumine’s personality

When it comes to Lumine, most people see her as a savage or rather as the beffiting girl for the role of the antagonist, and I must say, when it comes to people picking her as the traveller, she displays a different vibe.

Since there’s barely any trailer for her since the first game trailer was for PS4 platform along mobile devices.

Note: The trailer of “We will be reunited” in fact was released for the PS4 port, hence why it’s seen Aether as the MC of the story within versions BUT, this doesn’t mean Lumine isn’t an MC as well. On the contrary, due to the fact the game will be taken to PS4 and Nintendo Switch, it is required to have marketing

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gGMvTL9AedQ

The link above is the First Trailer for Nintendo Switch which has actually been delayed due to how they’ll port the game to such device.

Nevertheless, focusing on such short footage, it is to say that Lumine’s personality tends to display hope instead of grievance, does that mean she’s a not thoughtful sister?

No. In fact, this shows that she hasn’t lost hope about finding her elder brother, she is aware her journey will be long filled with hardships but that doesn’t mean she’ll dismiss the marvels of the world she was sent to, in fact, as travellers, both discover and acknowledge the beauty of the world of Teyvant and of course, within said trailer, Lumine’s adventure was just beginning to reach Liyue by having Paimon by her side,

Within the game, Lumine shows to be calm, thoughtful and reflective, giving a warm vibe when it comes to the characters that appear within the gameplay along having a sassy side just like Aether’s dialogues due to them being twins. But, within this, Lumine’s personality strikes more since she doesn’t display what lingers in her heart, of course, this doesn’t mean she’s heartless, instead she decides only to show such emotions is with Paimon unless the events that take place get the best of her which can be seen with Tartaglia’s character story along Dainsleif quest.

She enjoys the marvels within Mondstadt and Liyue but deep down, she misses her brother and wishes to find him. She gives the impression she will do anything to help just like her brother would if there were others in need.

And of course, within the Lantern Rite and Web Event that took place in 1.1; it is to said that Lumine is a hardworker, and of course, just like Paimon, she enjoys eating a lot, and this is due to the choices that are given within the gameplay whcih are protrayed very well for both sides.

3. Personality as antagonist

So far, many have seen Lumine playing the role of the Antagonist but of course, this doesn’t mean she’s the default villain within the story, so far, due to the fact that of how the trailers of each version has displayed her but of course, for those who play Lumine’s side, they see the same when it comes to seeing Aether as the abyss prince.

3.1 Aether Abyss Prince Personality

Aether as the Abyss Prince gives an impression that he changed due to the time he has spent within Teyvant, and of course, it is well known that one of them, depending of the choice, spent 500 years wandering around Teyvant which would explain why their clothing parts shine in a white color, meaning the unselected Twin traveled within Teyvant with the help of Dainsleif until the end of the journey was settled.

It is to said that Aether’s eyes reflect no mercy, he reflects his decision and will to work with the Abyss Order even if it stands against the moralities of the world. His emotions were hardened due to the time he spent in Teyvant without any trace of his missing twin and of course, his stare gives or rather displays power and indefinite strength to fight.

It is to said that the next time the side on which Aether plays the role of the Abyss Prince will be displayed in the new update version related with the continuation of Dainsleif’s quest.

3.2 Lumine’s Abyss Princess Personality

In contrast to Aether, Lumine gives an insight that she dwelled a lot in order to take such decision. That she dwelled until she reached the conclusion she’d take such footsteps even if it meant not seeing her twin brother again. Even if it meant they’d have to fight due to a difference or clash of ideals since the perception of the world will be fractured between them.

Due to her signature and design, it is to say that even if she tries to give a menacing aspect compared to Aether, she looks determinated but she does not give the vibe of being someone that will have no regrets. And this is heavily seen with the trailer “We will be Reuinited”.

In such trailer, it’s visible that Lumine gazes at her brother Aether with longing but of course, she can’t go to his side anymore due to her working and leading the Abyss Order, it shows there’s regret of her decision in contrast to Aether, of course, it would be a matter of time until mIHoYo chooses to give an insight of the Abyss Prince in the futrue.

What are your thoughts?

To be fair, this analysis is based on all the official media along recollection of people that made comparisons between the twins.

Is there a detail you might perceive from them in terms of personalities?

#genshim impact #mihoyo #aether #lumine #genshin impact hotaru #genshin impact sora #genshin impact ps4 #genshin impact nintendo switch #genshin impact analysis #abyss prince #abyss princess #paimon

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skellebonez · 4 years ago

Note

You asked for more Macaque and Mei, and I shall request more! Possibly from my Parents and Kiddos au with 7 and 36? And you get to decide if this is before or after Macaque decide that this kid is his kid

Yeah so... remember how I told you to remember a very specific piece of art for this au you drew? It gave me a bit of an idea that probably does not fit in the timeline of how Mac took Mei in, but this is my personal take on how he could have decided he couldn't just leave her because he cared too much now.

Warning: short scene of a young child being reminded of a traumatic event unintentionally and by accident, it is very vague while the child is in no danger and quickly helped, but it should be warned for.

Stop acting like a child!/Did you honestly think that was going to impress me?

"Oh... Please, small human, for 3 more minutes stop acting like a child!" The person sitting across from Macaque at the table muttered out, pulled out of trying to focus on their conversation by the small human in the room jumping on the bed. Macaque had half a mind to kick them out then and there, had he not needed the payment they were discussing to afford the room for another night.

"I am a child!" Mei responded quickly, tone terse and tight and more frustrated than a child her age should have to sound like. But Macaque couldn't blame her, stuck in the hotel room and having to listen to two adults (who she did not realize were demons discussing... business in vague terms) with little to no entertainment thanks to the TV being off for this meeting. "Maybe if you did more of your magic tricks I'd be less bored!"

"A-ah... right... my apologies," The person said quickly, sighing as they realized their mistake. While they sat with the appearance of a slightly elder woman in a black and white suit with brilliant red eyeliner to Mei, Macaque could see them for their true appearance through the glamor if he tried. Her disguise would have been a futile effort had Mei not believe the wind based magic she used earlier in their meeting to be a human magic trick and the woman a magician. The crane demon turned back to Macaque, a seemingly genuine apologetic smile on her face as she lowered her voice as much as possible. "I forget small humans are always still children."

"As long as everything is cleared," Macaque replied, watching from the corner of his eye with a smile as Mei curled into a ball and bounced one last time with a laugh before grabbing a book he had... "purchased" for her and sprawling out on the bed to read it. He hated to admit it, but the kid had grown on him. Just a bit.

"Oh yes!" The demon woman said with wide smile, pulling a card from her suit coat pocket. "Here, all the money has been loaded onto here. My brother insisted on a more substantial sum, given the job, so there are more yuan on there than you expect." Generosity for what he did was not exactly commonplace, so more than likely it was a bribe. "Keep your trap shut, Macaque" or "please don't come back and kill us" most likely. Not that he would go out of his way to do the later. Not now. The demon cleared her throat, holding out her hand. "The... you know?"

Macaque did know, pulling out a tiny scroll from a nearby bag to hand to her. It was simple, some kind of spell that could be used against her family specifically, and he watched as she looked at it with disgust.

"You have no idea the trouble you have saved my family, Six-Eared Macaque," she said, pulling out and adhering a sticker of some kind to the scroll. He'd never seen something like it before, but he wished he had taken a second to ask what she had been doing when the scroll immediately burst into flames that were held in place by her wind magic.

The effect was instantaneous. The scroll was engulfed in flame, disappearing and out in seconda. Macaque shot up to his feet. And despite his hopes she had actually been paying attention to her book enough to be distracted, Mei screamed.

He had to rush quickly to stop her running into the table to get to him, tears streaming down the young girl's face as she wrapped her arms and legs around his neck and torso immediately. She screamed and wailed into his neck, muttering "no"s into the fur that had sprouted up as his glamor fell away. She was too afraid to notice.

"Wh-what!?" The crane demon shot to her feet, worry and confusion on her face as she went to take a step forward only to be met with a deep grown and bared teeth from the monkey demon. "I-I just wanted to show you what I had designed! Is she-?"

"Come anywhere near her and I'll gouge your eyes out!" Macaque hissed in fury, raising a clawed hand to the back of Mei's head in the hopes to comfort her. He'd seen this happen before and he knew that she was not listening to him. "Did you honestly think that was going to impress me? Get out. I don't want to see your face anywhere near here for the next few days. If I do you'll have a worse fate than that scroll."

The crane demon stood up straight, face falling into a grimmace. "Y-yes, Six-Eared Macaque..." she turned, making her way to the door before pausing and looking at Mei with a frown. "For what it's worth... I'm sorry. Had I known that would frighten the child I would have waited."

He simply growled at her, ears flared and teeth bared at her until she left and he heard the clicking of the door locking behind her. He waited, listening to her footsteps rushing down the hotel hallway before he sighed shakily and backed up to sit on the bed with Mei still curled around him.

He made a mental note then and there to not only find out what those stickers were (which meant talking to the crane demon again, he did not look forward to that), but to also never allow Mei to be in the room during negotiations with demons again. Even telling them not to use fire around her was too much of a risk. Too much...

As Mei's crying softened against his neck, Macaque sighed and gently rubbed her back and muttered to her that it would be alright. There was no flame. The fire was gone. She was safe. He purred softly, the rumbles hopefully doing something to ease her fear.

It had been an inevitably that Mei would have an aversion to fire, Macaque had known this in the back of his mind the moment he saved her. Regardless of how much or little of the house fire that had taken her parents from her, the one he had rescued her from, she remembered or actually saw. Perhaps, in time, she would be less afraid. Maybe not afraid at all, given the right help in the future. But for now all flames larger than a lighter or kitchen stove horrified the young girl, making her scream and try to escape as quickly as possible. Escape to him so he could save her again.

"Are you going to leave me behind again?" Mei asked quietly as her tears slowed after a long while of crying her heart out, hiccuping softly. Macaque quickly put his glamor back up and ceased the now almost imperceptible demon purrs, not wanting her to learn of his demon form as she finally pulled back from the koala tight grip she had on him. "Please don't leave me behind this time..."

Macaque felt like a knife had been driven into his chest. When he had first saved Mei from the fire he was certain that he would just find someone to shove her at and be done with his good deed. But Mei kept coming back, not wanting to leave his side. He supposed at the time it was understandable, given what had happened, and after a time he had stopped trying to leave her behind the way he had been. He hadn't quite taken her in proper but he let her stay by his side, for the moment. And over time she'd grown on him. Now...

"I'm not going to do that," he said softly, ruffling her hair with a frown as he pulled her into another hug. "Not like that."

"What?" The young girl looked up at him as if she hadn't expected him to agree. "You mean... you're really gonna stay?"

"Yeah," he said with a nod, looking away as more tears continued to fall from her eyes. He wasn't used to this, had never actually wanted kids... at least... he thought he had never wanted kids. "I'll stay with you, happy now?"

He made his tone light, joking almost though his words were truthful. He'd learned over his short time taking care of Mei that she was smart and could pick up on sarcasm and jokes quickly. And she seemed to pick up on the light tone of his voice quickly.

"Really?" She asked in a hopeful tone.

"Yeah yeah, but you gotta stop the water works kid," he said with a smile, turning back to wipe away the tears from the corners of her eyes with his shirt sleeve. "Or you're gonna run out of tears and shrivel up like a raisin."

"No I won't," Mei countered with all the assurance of a doctor telling a patient they would live, a chuckle escaping her as she wrapped her arms around his neck in another hug. "... thank you..."

Macaque almost told her not to thank him for doing what he should have probably done a long time ago. But instead he held her close, tucking her head under his chin as he tried to hold back the comforting purrs that threatened to raise up again and reveal himself.

He made another set of mental notes as she quickly fell asleep against him and he tucked her into bed before sitting up beside her with a book of his own (thankful he could see well enough in the dark) to distract his racing mind. He needed to find somewhere for them to stay, really stay and not just cheap hotel rooms to hop from. He needed to find someone who could help her with what had happened, no more beating around the bush she needed more help than he could give. He needed to take precautions to make sure she would be safe, just in case given who he was.

Everything else... well. He was never too old to learn how to do new things for his... daughter. Yeah. His daughter sounded right he supposed. He'd be able to play it by ear.

He had 6 of them after all.

#monkie kid #lego monkie kid #gen fic #parents and kiddos au #six eared macaque #dad macaque #mei #long xiaojiao #mei is almost certainly going to have a therapist after this #also just a note i am pretty sure mei is around 5-6ish here just in case you're curious

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hb-writes · 4 years ago

Text

The Firstborns

A Sylvie Bridgerton Story - 1815

Sylvie (OC) is the eldest child of Hugo Bridgerton, the older sister to George (OC), and a cousin raised alongside the infamous Bridgerton brood. Born in-between Daphne and Eloise, Sylvie has made it her mission to delay her season again and again. Will 1815 be her year?

A/N - I’ve read the books and watched the show, so fair warning there are likely spoilers and it’s also likely a mix of both media because my mind honestly didn’t separate them - it just choose what it wants from the books/ tv show.

---

It was often said that elder brothers could be the worst sort of thing to happen to a young woman of marrying age, but Sylvie Bridgerton had three elder male cousins and could rightfully attest to the fact that they could be similarly problematic.

Sylvie supposed they were essentially siblings, the Bridgerton brood labeled tidily from A through H, because she had been raised mostly by their side as an alphabetical outcast, the elder of the two children born to Lord Hugo Bridgerton, left in the care of her Uncle Edmund at her father’s passing, the responsibility then left to her cousin, Anthony, only a year after that. At least that was the way society dictated it.

Sylvie had always been quite certain it was really her Auntie Vi who was in charge of her and her younger brother, George, though. Or more precisely, Sylvie was quite certain that Auntie Vi was in charge of everything, her Viscount of a cousin included.

But as Sylvie sat twiddling her fingers in Anthony’s office for the third time in less than a week, she was starting to question that certainty.

Sylvie had assessed that her cousin looked rather disgruntled, though she supposed Anthony had simply had that look about him for about a week or so now.

“So, are we to have a little chat or…?”

Anthony had ignored his cousin from the very moment after instructing her to take a seat a little over a quarter of an hour before. He focused instead on whatever was keeping him chained to his desk at this time of night, some paperwork regarding the estate and the family finances.

“If not, maybe you’ll allow me to borrow a book to pass the time?” Sylvie gestured to his brimming shelves.

“Sylvia.”

Anthony set down his pen, eyebrow raised as he interlaced his fingers, settling them on top of the papers before him. He was surprised she’d humored his silence for so long, nearly fourteen minutes when he’d expected no more than three to seven.

“Is my given name truly necessary?” she said, allowing only a moment of silence before continuing. “I suppose from that alone I should gather I’m in some sort of proper trouble?”

Anthony only stared at her and then, despite himself, he sat back in his chair, rubbing his temples and rolling his neck.

If anyone thought raising girls was an easy business, they’d clearly never done it themselves. They’d never met Daphne or Eloise or Francesca or Hyacinth Bridgerton. And they’d certainly never met Sylvia.

It still shocked him a bit, the differences between the Bridgerton girls, his younger sisters and his younger cousin. It was impressive, the way they could each vex him in such creative and distinct ways, their ability to bring him to laughter matched equally by their making him wish he had remained an only child, and entirely cousin-less as well.

On some days, Anthony wondered if every Bridgerton below him in age didn’t actually gather in the drawing-room at an agreed-upon hour to arrange a schedule designed solely for agitating him, deciding who would next take a swing and what technique would be employed. It seemed that Sylvie had been assigned extra vexing duties as of late, though that was not entirely surprising to him. She had always seemed to enjoy it a bit more than the others. And she was bloody good at it too.

“Are you ever not in trouble, Sylvia?”

Her eyes longed to roll, his continued insistence on using her full name bringing her the slightest bit of frustration, because despite all of the evidence otherwise, she did prefer when Anthony wasn’t lecturing her. She actually quite enjoyed his company when he wasn’t scolding.

“On those precious few evenings when you actually do go out, or better yet go to your own home, I find myself in a distinct lack of trouble. No one else deems me fit to be scolded, however—”

“However—” Anthony sat up and straightened his jacket. “—I am seemingly required to do so three...or four,” he said, allowing for the chance they’d find themselves in the same situation the following evening, “nights a week, all because you think a little untoward behavior will allow you to put off your season for another year.”

Sylvie was left with her mouth open, her elder cousin’s words an effective silencer and stunner, finally coming straight to the point after the two of them had danced around it for weeks.

“I—”

“Hear precisely what you are saying, my dear cousin, and will stop all this nonsense at once?” Anthony suggested.

“That’s—That’s not what I wanted to say,” she answered.

“No, of course not. I would never dream to expect as much.”

Sylvie took a breath as she considered her options. She wanted to ask for another year of reprieve. That’s what she had planned for, waiting at least another year before subjecting herself to the same torment Daphne had endured only two years prior.

She was still young enough to justify a delay and she’d successfully done so for two years already, citing a need to finish out a few academic endeavors the first year and an ankle injured in a particularly ruthless game of Pall Mall the next, but she hadn’t postured herself correctly for her cousin to be amenable to a conversation on delaying yet again. But then again, Sylvie hadn’t truly postured herself very well for Anthony to be amenable to her requests for nearly a decade by this point.

“But Georgie—”

“You do not need to concern yourself with matters concerning your brother. The boys will be at Eton come the next fall. They’ll be home for the summers. No matter who you marry, you shall always be welcome to visit him here or at Aubrey Hall, and I’m sure George should like to come to visit you as well.”

Sylvie’s mouth opened and closed a few times before she cleared her throat and regained the ability to form proper words. “Actually Anthony, I had expected that Georgie would be living with me.”

Anthony shook his head, sitting up in his chair. “George will be at Eton. He and Gregory will both be at Eton and then—”

“He is my brother,” Sylvie answered. “My responsibility.”

“I think you’ll find that both you and George are both my responsibility. And that responsibility extends to seeing you settled in a comfortable marriage and your brother receiving a proper education before, when he is ready, he also settles into a comfortable marriage.”

“When he’s ready?” Sylvie repeated. “Why is it that you boys get to marry when you’re ready and we young ladies are simply commanded to join the parade when you men determine it’s the proper time? Why do you get to decide everything?”

Anthony could have been honest and told Sylvie that he wanted them all tucked away into the safety of marriage because he didn’t know that he would be around to see to it if there was a delay.

Or he could have spoken to her from firstborn to firstborn, appealing the fellow eldest child he found in his younger cousin, aligning them through their common thread, and insisting that he only did these things because it was what he thought was best for them, same as she did for the younger ones and George especially.

Or he could have been quite frank and informed her that he had no desire to have multiple Bridgerton girls in season at the same time, though the prospect of settling Sylvie, Eloise, and Francesca down all in one go was enticing.

But Anthony didn’t tell her those things. He offered a much simpler explanation, one which he suspected would allot less room for argument on the part of the cousin who was testing his capacity for patience at such a late hour.

“Because I am Viscount, Sylvia.”

Sylvie released a quick breath and turned her face down to focus on her fumbling fingers as she considered it. Anthony had only uttered four simple words, but there was a whole lot of complicated meaning built up behind them.

Because you are Viscount.

And a man.

And I am nothing.

A woman, and therefore, nothing.

Property.

A dowry.

A machine for use of creating an heir.

Meant to be seen and not heard.

Nothing.

She found it all hard to swallow after her upbringing even though she knew Anthony, and the other male Bridgertons, didn’t truly live by those beliefs. But society did. The ton did. And so the second she entered society, it would become reality, in a way.

Sylvie had never before been discounted on account of being female. As a young Bridgerton girl, she had frequently gone out into the fields tagging along behind her older cousins, playing the very same games as the boys, climbing trees and forging streams. Even once they moved to London year-round, Sylvie had retained a certain amount of autonomy.

And though they often went toe to toe, Anthony had always respected Sylvie’s position as George’s older sister, and he’d always acknowledged the importance of the common ground that stood between them, that of the firstborn sibling, affording her an extra measure of respect that he’d not afford to even Benedict in certain matters. It often came out in shared glances across the room, or their lending one another support with simple nods in response to “Right, Sylvie?” or “Right, Anthony?”

Although they had never explicitly discussed it, Sylvie assumed when she did one day marry, her brother would come to stay with her, assumed that if he were still of a certain impressionable age, George would officially become the responsibility of her and her future husband.

And if she didn’t marry until later in life, until her younger brother was fully grown, or if she never married at all, she was alright with those scenarios as well. She loved Bridgerton House and Aubrey Hall and being surrounded by family, her wild cousins and brother running about and shouting at all hours. She didn’t long for the solitude of marriage. And despite loving children, she wasn’t entirely sure whether she wanted to bear her own.

“But—”

“What could you possibly have to say to argue that point?”

“I’m not going to argue whether or not you’re the Viscount, My Lord.”

Anthony rolled his eyes, but didn’t comment. He rued the day that his cousin learned that she could somehow twist his title into an insult.

Sylvie smiled, considering his silence permission to continue, not that she was truly waiting for it.

“I’m going to argue against this season. Daphne didn’t meet Simon until the season in which she turned one and twenty, and your own wife didn’t have her season until one and twenty, and—”

“And you’re telling me that I should allow you to wait until you are one and twenty?”

“No,” she said. “You, my dearest cousin, are the Right Honorable Viscount Bridgerton, and I am well aware that I cannot tell you what to do. I am merely asking that you consider my humble little request.”

Anthony snorted. “Sylvie Bridgerton? Humble, eh?”

“My ability to be humble is not the question at hand, Anthony,” she muttered. “And neither truly is the time at which my season should take place because... well, your wife has already agreed with me. Kate thinks one and twenty is the perfect age for a first season.”

Anthony’s thumb rubbed at his temple, an entirely subconscious gesture on his part. “My wife has already agreed with you?”

“Yes, the Viscountess has agreed that I should be allowed to wait a year. We had tea this afternoon while you, Ben, and Colin were at the club.”

“Of course you did.”

“She also said that you’ve lost a bet to her and as such, you will have no choice to go along with us.”

Anthony closed his eyes and his nostrils flared before he released a deep exhale. “You’ll be the death of me.”

“Me or Kate?”

Anthony waved a hand in the air. “I’ll let the two of you work that out. Not as if my opinion on the subject matters.”

“So, you’ll tell Auntie—”

Anthony’s booming laugh cut off Sylvie’s words. “No, no, my dearest cousin. I shall leave that particular discussion for you.”

He stood up from his desk then, taking his hat as he stepped towards the door. “Best of luck. Do let me know how that goes.”

#bridgerton #bridgerton oc #bridgerton one shot #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fanfic #anthony bridgerton #sylvie bridgerton

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sirtwentyofhousegoodmen · 4 years ago

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Prompt: Arcturus at the birth of Sirius

November 3, 1959

"Pacing like a madman isn't going to make this go by any faster, boy."

Orion—dutiful as always—only nodded at the pointed remark from his father, eliciting a light sneer from the patriarch.

Honestly—not a hint of anger, nor even frustration at the jibe. Arcturus almost savoured the day when his son would finally tell him what he truly thought of him, but, rather like the boy Walburga was currently bringing into the world—it was slow to come.

As always, all the men of the black family were gathered in the drawing room, smoking cigars and drinking brandy. Cygnus was looking positively sloshed, no doubt because this boy that was being born was meant to remedy his own mistake in siring only daughters. Alphard was as inscrutable as always, damned vagabond. Pollux was red-cheeked and merry, oblivious to his son's misery, puffing on his cuban with the utmost gusto.

This was what was left of the Black Family.

He was starting to see some truth to all his grandfather's curmudgeonly ranting.

Orion's pacing grew all too wearisome after a few more minutes, and Arcturus found himself at his limit.

"By Salazar, boy—sit down!"

Orion turned to him, a shocked look on his face before acqueiscing. Arcturus didn't fail to notice the tense jaw.

Good. Let the boy stew a bit more—only a matter of time before he finally grew a spine.

The occasion was bittersweet for Arcturus. On the one hand, Orion's marriage to his abominable cousin finally producing something of worth was cause for celebration—on the other, it showed just how far the Black family had fallen.

All their hopes hinged on an infant boy—it was difficult not to be bitter about the fact. And with his brother Regulus's death just a few months before, it had put the Black patriarch in a foul mood that hadn't ceased since. Only Melania knew how to navigate his temper now, and even her subdued manner grated every now and then.

As if on cue, the aforementioned woman burst into the drawing room, dress slightly disheveled and bags under her eyes speaking of tiredness.

His poor wife—to have to manage twenty-seven hours of Walburga's screeching. He would get her a gift one of these days—perhaps that rare orchid she was eyeing when they went to Nott Manor. She'd never said much about it, but Melania didn't say much about anything. One had to read between the lines with her, and even then the woman's emotions were as mysterious as the day was long.

"A boy, dear—practically perfect in every way!" She beamed, then walked over to where Orion sat, shell-shocked at the news, and kissed him on the cheek.

"Well," Arcturus groaned as he stood—one of these days he might very well need a cane, his leg had been killing him these last few months. "Best not dawdle—let's go see my grandson, Orion. Unless, you wish for me to wait until after you've seen him first?"

Orion turned to him, then after a moment's hesitation, shook his head deferentially. "Of course not, father—you're more than welcome to see him with me."

For God's sake boy, anything! Call me miserable, tell me I'm a bastard, one sign of dissent to show you've a man's spine!

Rather than voice this, Arcturus merely harrumphed in dissapointment and followed Orion out of the drawing room, all the way up the stairs. The walk was—like much of their meetings—silent and uncomfortable, punctuated by the mutterings of the portraits as they went by.

Reaching the door of the room Walburga was in, Orion dallied for just a second before finally collecting himself and opening the door.

When they entered, Walburga was quite obviously miffed with her husband for allowing his decrepit old father to push him into coming along with him. Honestly, you'd think he was still in the nursery sometimes, yanking on his father's pant-leg for the slightest bit of attention!

"Orion," she greeted, smiling in a manner best described as murderous. She turned her flinty gaze to the elder. "Arcturus."

"Walburga," Arcturus nodded back. "I'm here to see my grandson. Or do you intend to hide the boy away forever?"

Her eyes narrowed, giving her smile an even more brittle quality to it. "Certainly not. Please, Arcturus," she emphasized the name, shooting her husband a glare for good measure, "Come meet our son."

Orion approached her warily, as if she were Mephistopheles himself, whilst Arcturus had no such compunctions and walked forward confidently to the bed.

When he caught sight of the boy, he smiled.

Black hair, aquiline nose, grey eyes—A perfect Black specimen. Perhaps Walburga wasn't the worst choice for Orion—Nightmare she may have been, she had little of the Crabbe looks aside from her eyes appearing blue in a certain light. Orion, on the other hand, looked more a Macmillan than some of his cousins who actually bore the name. Their son was a testament to Black genetics—bearing the name on both sides, as well as the looks.

Arcturus nodded, an approving gleam in his eyes as he took in his first grandson. "The boy's every inch a Black. Fine job, the both of you. You especially, Orion."

Walburga looked mightily offended at Orion being given extra commendations, seeing as how she'd just spent twenty-seven hours bringing the newest black heir into the world—but her husband either didn't notice or didn't care as he stuttered over his thanks for his father's first compliment in what must've been five years.

"Thank you, father." Orion turned back to the boy, all his focus on his son, and a smile that could be called tender growing on his face. "He's perfect, Walburga."

Her face softened at that, and she even allowed herself a small smile at her husband. "Would you like to hold him?"

Orion nodded, gleefully, before taking hold of his son as if he were made of the most delicate china in the world. He gazed down at the boy lovingly, smiling like a madman at every coo and fuss that came from the boy as if he couldn't believe he were real.

"What will you name him?" Arcturus asked, breaking his son out of his downright womanish fussing after allowing him a generous amount of it.

Orion's smile grew larger, if anything, and he stared up at Arcturus hopefully.

"Sirius," Orion said, and Arcturus felt as if someone had poured a bucket of cold water over his head. "For my grandfather."

"You didn't even know your grandfather," Arcturus said, half an accusation. Orion heard the harsh tone and flinched, caught completely blindsided.

"I meant to honour him," Orion replied, nervously.

"If you'd known him, you'd know he wasn't a man to honour or emulate in the least." Arcturus fired back, an anger and resentment he'd stewed over since he was nine years old bubbling to the surface.

"Orion meant it for your father," Walburga said, each word coming out through gritted teeth. "But I was the one who chose it—and I had your great-uncle in mind."

Arcturus blinked. "Ah, well then I suppose it's not too," he shifted his feet, uncomfortably, "bad a choice. Let me see Sirius then, Orion—or do you mean to hog him forever?"

Orion, snapping out of his hurt, nodded fervently and placed the boy into his father's arms, hovering over his back as if anticipating his fall.

Arcturus evaluated the boy closer, and he saw it—those eyes. Black they were, but he could see the impudence in them from a mile away. The baby, oblivious to his grandfather's test, reached up and yanked a hair off his mustache.

"Ow!"

Orion rushed forward and took the baby out of his incensed grandfather's arms, hushing its giggles as if worried his father would take even more offense to them.

"Impertinent little—," He sighed, running a hand over his face.

"Father, I—"

"It's not a problem, Orion," Arcturus replied, spitting out every word with the utmost venom. "I'd only suggest watching the boy in future—there's an impudence there that I like not."

Orion looked at Arcturus as if he'd grown two heads, but nodded. Walburga, in the corner, looked to be trying to muffle a fit of cackles with her pillow.

Impertinent whelp.

#noble and most ancient house of black #harry potter #the black sheep dog #ozymandias #walburga black #sirius black #arcturus black #orion black #cygnus black #alphard black #pollux black

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jawritter · 4 years ago

Text

I’ll Wait For You

Summary: Sometimes when we’re angry, hurt, or scared we say things wrong. Say things that hurt the ones we love. When Dean takes things a step to far can you find it in your heart to forgive him?

Word Count: 3151 (oops...)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Prompt: Did I stutter? Do as you’re told!

Warnings: Dean’s a bit of a dick, angst, hurt feelings, unrequited/requited maybe? language because it’s me, I think that’s about it.

A/N: This fic was written for Chan’s 500 follower challenge! Congrats hun! @msmarvelouswinchester. It was also beta’d by @miss-nerd95! Thanks again love! Please do not copy my work! Feedback is golden! Hope you all enjoy this one!

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It was always the same old dance between Dean and you lately. The same old seven and six. Dean barked orders to everyone in the car, expected everyone to follow them to the letter, just as he’d been instructed by John all those years ago.

Dean knew the way his Dad had raised him had been wrong, he even admitted it now, but some habits were hard to break. Dean was used to being in control and he hated things that were not. Maybe it was because things had the tendency to get out of hand in his life so much. So much loss, so many deaths, and a lot more regrets.

Sam had gotten accustomed to Dean’s 'take charge' attitude over the years and all but brushed it off and ignored the sting his voice tended to carry most of the time. It bothered Jack to no end, and you started to think that was one of the reasons Sam suggested he stop coming on hunts with you all, while Cas opted to stay behind with Jack. Dean and Cas’s friendship had been a rocky one for years now anyway, the kid just added to the stress.

So you found yourself where you started with the Winchesters all those years ago, covered in mud, glaring out of the window in the backseat of Baby as Dean teared you a new one for some order you didn’t bother following.

This time though, unlike all those years ago, you had developed deep feelings for the elder Winchester, and every stab he took at you with every passing mile seemed to dig deeper and deeper into your very soul. You could feel tears burning in your eyes as he continued with his rant and you prayed the Bunker would appear quickly, because you didn’t know how much more of his harsh words you could take.

“Y/N!” Dean’s yell broke through mental walls you had built up to ignore him, making you jump as your eyes met a furious gaze in the rearview mirror of Baby, street lights out the window giving you brief glimpses of his livid face. “Answer me dammit! Why the fuck did you not go through the back exit like I told you to, instead of coming down the fucking hallway and right in the center of the Goddamn nest!”

You could feel the anger boiling just underneath the surface of all the hurt of being called a bad hunter and a liability, and an ignorant bitch that you couldn’t take it anymore. You could only shake a coke bottle so long before the building pressure inside exploded and you were right there, about to lose your shit.

You knew that was unwise, especially during the mood Dean was in, so you just bit your lip to keep from screaming at him, and looked him dead in the eyes.

“I’m sorry Dean, I messed up. I admit it. I heard Sam screaming at you, and I thought something bad had happened. I’m sorry.”

That did nothing but infuriate Dean further, his eyes shifting from the road ahead of him to you again in the mirror.

“You were given a direct order to go through the back door for a reason, you could have got yourself killed, or Sam killed! Do you understand that!”

“I’m sorry Dean-”

“NO!” Dean explodes pulling the car over the side of the road, and for a moment you felt like your heart had stopped. The thought that he might either kick you out of the car or the Bunker, or both rolling around in your mind. “WHEN I TELL YOU THINGS IT’S NOT ONLY FOR YOUR OWN GOOD, BUT FOR THE GOOD OF EVERYONE INVOLVED! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME!”

Sam sat up a little straighter, looking at his brother directly for the first time since he’d started arguing with you. Dean had turned around to face you in the driver’s seat. His face was red and angry, nostrils flared and jaw clenched so tight you could see his jugular vein right under the collar of his black and grey flannel.

You couldn’t answer him, your heart was pounding so hard in your rib cage that you were sure the boys could hear it in the front seat.

“ANSWER ME! AM I SPEAKING A FOREIGN LANGUAGE?!”

“Dean!” Sam scolded in a stern voice. Dean gave him a look before lowering his volume, but turned his angry gaze back on your shaking form. You had never realized Dean could be so terrifying when he became angry because it had never been directed at you before.

“Dean, I’m so sorry... “

“I don’t want to hear ‘I’m sorry’ Y/N, Did I stutter? Do as you're told! That’s all I want you to do! Just do what the fuck you're told, and keep your ass alive by doing so, understand?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, never taking your eyes off of Dean’s. His gaze was hard, unnerving, and so angry that it reminded you of when he had the mark.

“I understand, Dean,” you finally were able to answer him.

Dean nodded, eyes taking in your visibly shaking form as you tried to make yourself as small as possible in the backseat. Sam was glaring daggers at his brother, but Dean didn’t seem to either notice or care. Finally he turned around and started the car again. A few tears slipped down your checks and you caught them quickly, doing all you could to hold rest in.

The rest of the car ride was silent. No one said a word. Dean didn’t even turn on the radio. You kept your focus on the passing landscape as the Bunker grew closer and closer.

Finally, after what felt like hours, Dean pulled into Baby’s usual parking place and you were out of the car and through the door before either of the boys could even move.

“Y/N!” Dean called in a much softer voice than he’d used in the car but you didn’t even turn around when you answered him. You just wanted to get alone where you could cry.

“I’m going to take a shower,” you half heartedly yell over your shoulder.

You didn’t give him time to respond before you disappeared behind the door of your bedroom, leaving the Winchesters standing in the library. You knew Sam wasn’t happy with Dean, but you really wished the younger of the two would just leave the other alone.

You didn’t know what would happen if Sam poked the already vexed bear and you weren’t sure you could handle another fight with Dean at that magnitude.

When you’d heard Sam yell Dean’s name, you assumed the worst. You felt like your heart fell at your feet. You just knew something horrible had happened to him and as mad as you were at him right now, you couldn't live in a world Dean didn’t exist in.

Grabbing your clothes in a quick, yet somehow nonchalant movement, you made your way to the shower, and turned on the spray as hot as you could stand it. Mechanically stripping out of your muddy clothes before stepping under the scalding spray.

You weren’t angry really, now that you were thinking about it, you were just hurt. Dean had looked like he hated you in the car tonight. Like if he could have gotten away with it, he would have killed you, which you knew was possible and that made it even more scary. You were a fool to ever think that Dean would ever have the same feelings for you that you had for him, and you knew that, but you didn’t realize how much he hated you.

That’s what made the dam of emotions that you had been holding back the whole way to the Bunker shatter. Deep, heart-breaking sobs racked through your body as your heart cracked into pieces and slipped down the drain the water was draining in at your feet with the water that was rolling off of your body.

Part of you screamed that you should leave the Bunker. Then another part of you, a much larger part of you, said you’d never survive if you did. Being a female hunter was dangerous, but that wasn’t the problem. The problem was, you couldn’t leave Dean behind, and if you did, then it would be because he forced you, and that, you knew, would surely kill you.

You stood there sobbing under the hot spray until it turned cold, washing your hair and body as tears streamed down your face in a now steady flow, only hidden by the water pouring around you. When you finally couldn't stand there any longer, you turned the shower off, took a deep breath, and dried yourself with a towel. Your hair was not top priority right now, and honestly, why would you even bother anymore. Not that Dean would notice or care even if you shaved it all off.

You were so wrapped up in your own blind heartache that you didn’t see him standing in the hallway in front of the bathroom door until you ran headfirst into his chest. You staggered backwards as two strong hands grabbed each side of your shoulders to steady you.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” you mumble, shrugging his hands off of your body. You tried to make your way around him, but he quickly stepped in front of you, blocking your way.

“Hey, listen, I want to talk to you,” he said with a low voice that normally would have made you melt, but right now, you couldn't even make eye contact with him because of the fear that the water works would start again, or that he would still look as angry as he did in the car.

“Dean, I’m really tired, I just want to go lay down, can we talk later?”

Shoving past him hard enough to make him stumble backwards out of your way, you stalked towards your room and shut the door as fast as you could, hoping that he’d just give up on yelling at you and would just go away.

Three loud pounds on your door told you that you weren’t going to be so lucky.

“Y/N, please let me in,” his muffled voice begged through the door.

You said nothing, just pulled the covers over you and hoped that if you didn’t answer he’d leave without saying anything else.

“I can pick a lock you know!”

You honestly hadn’t thought that far ahead. You shot a narrow-eyed glare at the door as if he could see through it, before you heard the distinct sounds of the lock being picked.

That was one of the cons of living with a couple of hunters, no privacy.

What was left of your heart stood still as the door to your room opened, and then closed. The sound of heavy footsteps making their way to your bed and the dip in your bed letting you know there was no way you were getting out of this.

“Y/N, listen. I was too hard on you back there. I’m sorry. You’re not a bad hunter, you’re not a liability, you’re not stupid or a bitch. I was afraid that you could have really gotten hurt tonight, and I blew up unnecessarily. I was wrong for that, and I’m sorry.”

His voice was soft and quiet, so contradictory to what it had been in the car, but you didn’t have the guts to turn around to see if he still had that same look on his face as he did before.

“S’Okay, Dean, I fucked up. I shouldn’t have put Sam or myself in jeopardy. It won't happen again, no need to apologize.”

For just a moment the room became deathly silent and you wondered if he’d just get up and leave, but he didn’t. Dean was never a big talker, and you were already surprised he was saying as much as he did, even though you knew Sam had probably put him up to it.

“So, um, I’m gonna go make some burgers, wanna join me?” He asked.

You just shook your head against the pillows, wiping the stray tears on the pillow beneath your head to keep him from seeing them. His words were still ringing so loud in your head that it was all you could hear. Just a loop repeating over and over again.

“You’ve got to eat something Y/N. Come on, let me fix you something to eat, you haven’t really eaten anything all day.”

Way deep down, the sassy part of you wanted to scream the question, “Is that an order?” Still, you kept your mouth shut, not wanting to enrage him while he was being nice to you.

“Dean, please, I’m not hungry, just… Go away, go find some girl to fuck at that strip joint up the road and blow off some steam.”

The words came out harsher than you meant to, and you could have swore you felt him flinch next to you.

A dark chuckle left his lips that had you turning around and looking at him in spite of yourself. How could he even find that funny? When you turned around you found no humor in his hard features.

“Why won't people let that shit go?” He asked you seriously, and for a moment it threw you off, red rimmed eyes and all, you sat up in your bed and faced him fully.

His face searched yours as he took in the state that you were in and his handsome features fell even further, so much guilt hanging in the air around him that it made you a little sick. This was the vulnerable side of Dean you had never seen before. If you were being honest, you didn’t even know how to handle it.

“Dean, I don’t understand,” you told him as you watched his eyes glance over you, keeping his distance at the foot of the bed.

“I mean, yeah, I went through a lot of women when I was younger. I was a hunter, didn’t need any attachments. It was a way to feel something other than the bullshit I was dealing with at the time.” Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, and closed his eyes almost like he wished he could will away the memories you couldn’t see.

Dean had a dark past and you knew that. You never really saw it manifest until tonight.

“I know it wasn’t healthy, but what hunter ever dealt with anything properly? I haven’t done anything like that in years, but here you are, and there Sam was just about 15 minutes ago, still throwing it in my face.”

Dean stood, and slowly made his way towards the door, his broad shoulders slumping slightly as he went and it made your heart clench.

“Dean,” you tried, but he just shook his head as he grabbed the door and opened it slowly.

“It’s okay, Y/N. I’m poison and it’s best that people think I’m a shitty human, maybe then you and everyone else I care about will be safe.”

Turning to face you with his hand still on the door, he gave you a look more haunted than anything you’d ever faced, fought, or killed. The small smirk pulled at his lips, not quite reaching his pale green eyes as he stared into your soul.

“I wish you could have met me before I became this way. Maybe then you wouldn’t hate me. Even though I can’t blame you, I can tell you that you will never hate me as much as I hate myself.”

You were on your feet before you had even thought about moving and grabbed his hand in yours to stop him from leaving. When he turned to you, you could see it then. The scared little boy that was still buried not so deep under the toughened surface. The one that had to see, live through, and deal with more than you knew you will ever in your lifetime, and carried more scars than you will ever be able to understand.

“I don’t hate you Dean, I never have. I thought you hated me.”

Dean’s face fell even further, which you didn't know how that was possible, and his eyes hesitantly met your own, his teeth sinking into his lip hard enough that they were turning white before he finally spoke.

“I don’t hate you sweetheart, I never have. I’m scared of what you make me feel, I’m scared that I will lose you, I’m scared… I’m scared of a lot of things.”

You were so relieved to find out that he didn’t absolutely detest you, that you pulled him into you with such force that it closed the door he’d had open, which led to him push a huff of air out of his lungs that he’d apparently been holding.

“I don’t care that you’re poison Dean, I’m not going anywhere.”

For a long time the two of you just stood there, arms wrapped tightly around each other as if you could fix all of the broken pieces in your souls. Even though it wouldn’t all be okay tonight, even though Dean would crawl back in his shell of protection and hide from his emotions, even though no one would say it this this eventful night, you could see that he loved you just as much as you loved him… He was just afraid.

Tonight, he’d spend the night with you in his arms, and in the morning, you’d share a lingering glance in the kitchen, maybe a passing touch, and that would be enough. Whenever he was ready, you’d still be there waiting for him, because even though he never said it with words, his body and soul cried out for the love he’d never been allowed to have before, and it told you all you needed to know.

He didn’t have to scream it to tell you, actions were always louder than words, and it was time for once in your life to do as you're told, and wait for your hero to come back to you. To let you make this homeless, broken man a home of your own. No matter how much it hurt, no matter how long you’d have to wait. You’d do it and do it gladly.

So even though there would be no dramatic declarations of love, no great, mind blowing sex just right now, and the wounds that words created would not get miraculously healed, you’d both take a shaky step together in the right direction.

A little bit at a time, step by step, you’d get him to open up to you, but tonight, 'I’ll wait for you' will be enough.

Forever Tags: @deanmonandnegansbitch @hayleeharling @flamencodiva @coldmuffinbanditshoe @dirty-pan-goblin @itmejado @supernatural3002 @teresa-67 @thoughts-and-funnies @hearteyes-j2 @deanwanddamons @rvgrsbrns @bi-danvers0 @onethirstyunicorn @i-love-superhero @akshi8278 @lyss-dw79 @magssteenkamp @lemondropirwin @squirrelnotsam @hobby27 @spnbaby-67 @mrsjenniferwinchester @defenderrosetyler @screechingartisancashbailiff @thecreatiivecorner @aflamboyanceofgays @vicmc624 @busy-bee-angel-misska @justanotherwinchester @brilovesdeanwinchester @idksupernatural @lyarr24 @amandamdiehl @love-jackles-37-blog @miraclesoflove @emoryhemsworth @dean-winchesters-gardian-angel @softsebastian @tatted-trina6

A/N 2: sorry if your tags didn’t work guys! Tumblr is being an ass!

#chans500followerchallenge #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean fanficiton #dean fanfic #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester drabble #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #spn one shot #jawritter #jensen ackles #x reader inserts #i'll wait for you

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albino-whumpee · 3 years ago

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Demon Angel AU: Ritual sacrifice

Will I ever actually work on my WIPS or follow an schedule? Sigh.

Anyhow, a bit more of the AU with the boys for a late @whumptober2020! Sann discovers what did the gods capture a demon for! He´s not very happy about it and the fate of his friend.

CW// blood, ritual sacrifice, deity whump, captivity, pet whump (of sorts), forced to watch, torture, defiant whumpee, manhandling, creepy whumper and noncon touching (non sexual), wing whump, threats of murder, escape attempt and betrayal. Ask to tag!

Taglist: @as-a-matter-of-whump @grizzlie70 @orchidscript @giggle-evil-puppy @rosesareviolentlyread @haro-whumps

He was molded by his god to be perfect. Or their definition of perfect. Six pairs of wings that would allow him to soar through the sky as ordered. Perfectly white and soft for his God´s fingers to run through as he sang along to an ancient song the angel had never listened to but knew word by word.

Kneeling at his God´s feet, and singing to them like the perfect bird toy the demon had told him he was when he had gotten close enough to get a “hey, Angel, are you gonna tell me your name today?” instead of warning snarls. The angel had gotten defensive at first. Offended by the captive´s words when he was so much more to his God. So thankful to have been given the important job to stay by their side to serve them.

“You love flying don´t you?” the demon had told him shifting on his cell with his limbs going black from the friction of chains that cursed his touch.

He had a piece of cloth tied around the edges so it would pacify the pain for a little while, it was too risky to leave it, so the angel had to take it away when he went back to bed to his lord.

The angel bit his lower lip. Remembering his night strolls through the clouds, when he could simply put the three pairs of wings to work for him and him only.

“I do, but-”

“Then if your creator loved you so much they wouldn´t force you to stop. They would love to see you flying in the sky instead of forcing you to stay with them on the ground to show your devotion or whatever”

“It´s to bring honor to them! Besides, It´s my choice to do it or not!” the angel had yelled at him. The demon stood up and stomped his way to the bars of his cell. Until the chain yanked him back and he let out an exasperated groan before turning to watch the puffed out angel.

“Yeah? Is it really a choice when you´re terrified of saying no?” The demon refuted. “Do you even…Do you even know how they will fuck up your wings?”

The angel had frowned at the softening of his voice. He shook his head as the demon sighed.

“Come here, Angel” he said and the angel doubted moving, but ultimately walked towards the demon, curiosity itching to be satisifed. He jumped in horror as the demon pinched his hand with his own claws and black blood pooled on it.

“What are you-!?”

“Shh, I´m ok” he said crouching to take into his hands one of the feathers that had fallen off on one of the angel´s earliest visits. The three feathers hidden in a crack on the wall was his little treasure, but nobody, and most certainly not the Angel needed to know that “I´m not here just to be a party entertainer, Angel” he said dipping the feather in the blood as a sizzling sound crossed the air. The Angel´s heart stopped for a second.

The feather dissolved in less than a few seconds.

“I´m the main ingredient for your ritual. Once they dry me, you will coat your wings bloody black. But after suffering for a few hours, your god will give you wax wings. If you pretty please ask for them, they will give it to you. Just as perfect but absolutely useless”

“H-H-How do you know all this?” The freckled Angel heaved staring at the demon´s grim face.

“Demons disappear all the time you know? Who, besides your god´s soldiers, would take them? The humans? They wish! The Elder told me to avoid capture at all costs but I…” he sighed “I didn´t see them coming from above”

The Angel had never felt so betrayed. He couldn´t even say goodbye to the demon that night. He had wanted to sit next to his god at night, as the demon danced in his injured feet and enjoy along…but he couldn´t. He felt disgusted, afraid, of being forced to be the cause of pain inflicted on the demon. Of his friend. He could try to look away for as long as his god didn´t take his chin and make him watch.

It took guts to make a decision, and it had a cost to save the demon.

At night, his god called for him and he prostrated before them to be informed the ritual would be at dawn.

The Angel should have stayed quiet. Should have shown his excitement just like when they told him he was chosen among all the other angels to become theirs.

But nothing but questions and the need to cry came out.

“What´s wrong, Sann?” they asked him gently wiping the tears off his face. A name was given to him to respond to, but only the giver knew what to call. Only his god could call him Sann.

“My lord, I have a wish for you to answer”

“Ask and I may consider”

“What will happen to the white demon on the dungeons after dawn?” Sann asked with a knot forming on his stomach as the god took their hand away.

“Worried about your own enemy. What a pure little one I made. But don´t fret, it´s only natural for living things, no matter how cursed their existance, to cease. You should know that, Sann” suddenly the finger tracing his jaw didn´t feel like a gentle touch, but a warning. Sann´s wings shivered as his god planted a kiss on his forehead “You´re far more important to me than that funny creature of the underworld, Sann. I expect nothing less but perfection from you and you have relentlessly proved your worth to me. Do it one more time and get ready, my perfect little bird”

Sann knelt in one knee as they walked away to the gardens “Yes, my lord”

The Angel couldn´t focus on the gorgeous scent of the flowers that bathed their body and the brush that groomed their wings, neither on the voices that praised him for getting such a promotion and telling him how beautiful he looked on his ritual gawns. They all had been angels like him, promoted, without any lower angel seeing. He had always wondered about why such secrecy…

“Sister?” She asked the black skinned angel mussing his hair and hummed in reply. Her wings were always shiny and immobil behind her. Always dragging on the ground as she walked behind her own Lady “What are your wings made of?”

At the question he felt a sudden pull back. He let out a pained yelp through gritted teeth.

“Oh my! I´m sorry! I…what kind of question is that, sweetheart?” She said and didn´t speak again until she was finished and pushed him to the next room.

He didn´t miss how she didn´t answer his question.

They never did.

—

It was past midnight when the Angel started with his meditation. He was supposed to last until dawn, but no matter how hard the effect of the tea they had given him, he couldn´t force himself back into that state. Slightly dizzy, he stumbled his way to the window. Just to check how much time he had to get his last flying before the ceremony.

He saw the sky turning that pinkish tone he had soared through in his first flight. Racing the sun to see who could come higher faster. He remembered how the wind felt on his wings, how the currents carried him higher, how the clouds melted without touching, they had never been fluffy cutton, but scurried through his fingers like water.

More than once he had asked despite himself, what were they made of. What was everything even himself made of. Despite been forbidden from questioning the greatest god´s creations, he kept wondering. He wanted to know and appreciate it, not deminish it.

Why was it so wrong to ask?

At the thought a tear spilled off his cheek.

Because the answers may not be as innocent as he thought, he now understood.

It pained him to admit it. It hurt so much to make a coocoon of his wings and touch them in longing. The demon was right. He didn´t want to dissapoint his god, but he also didn´t wanna lose his flight.

He would prefer to fall.

The demon should still be on the dungeon. He could…he could save him. He could take him and.. He needed to…

He suddenly was yanked up by the arm by his sisters and brothers. A procession trapped him until they arrived to the plaza, just a few minutes before dawn.

In explicit detail he was instructed about the ritual´s procedures. Such was his shock that, before he knew it, he was on his knees in front of his god and…

“Control that beast!” the blonde, winged soldier cracked his whip at the demon. Hitting him plain in the face, blood splattered on the floor but the demon kept squirming and growling under the ropes holding him down. His tail tightly bound to one of his legs. He was kneeling with a muzzle over his face and a rope tightening more and more around his exposed, vulnerable neck. The more he moved the more it digged on his skin, black blood ran down in rivulets through the rope and to his wrists. Struggling just made it worse, but his eyes didn´t lose the fight in them. Like a red twilight, his eyes were filled with the omen of blood.

The demon was finally seized with the help of two other soldiers. Holding him in place to stare directly at Sann. His eyes widened as he found the sword on the angel´s hands and Sann understood immediately he bared his fangs in fury, in betrayal and then closed his eyes and stopped struggling.

The soldiers let him go and the demon jerked forward. His forehead barely brushing the Seraphim´s feet in defeat. He saw his eyes and there was no need for words to understand what they meant.

“I trusted you”

The demon lowered his head as Sann began with the first step of the ritual: singing an hymn in honor of the highest god. The creator of all. Even the demon´s elder.

It should be carried on with a dance with the sword on his hand. Gentle steps that got framed with the movements of his wings. The gods and Sann´s god watched his performance delighted.

The ritual dance stopped with Sann bowing at the demon with the sword on his back.

He whispered to the white haired demon then.

“I want to know your name”

The demon´s snort was muffled by the muzzle.

Golden bowls on the sides, so in his sweaty state he had to take them and put them right below the demon. He carefully moved slower, trying to make as much of a curtain as his wings would let him cover in a place filled with gods and soldiers.

“I´m not gonna hurt you” Sann whispered, moving gracefully behind the demon, sword on one hand and grabbing a fist of white hair to uncover the neck. He glared back with a venemous look.

It wasn´t part of the ritual to cut the muzzle off his face with the sword, yet it fell to a sudden silence of the public. To the demon´s amusement.

“I promise” he mouthed to the demon. Eyes were nailed on them in all directions, but the tension seemed to ease and quicken as he set the sword right over the tender skin of his throat.

The demon squinted but his lips twisted up, sensing the honesty of the winged creature.

“Tell me yours, and I will tell you mine”

The angel looked above and took a deep breath where he extended his wings and lifted his sword. Using the sudden roar of cheering to mouth his name at the demon. The sword pointed in a direction without guards.

The joy at the barbarie vanished just as quickly as Sann´s sword cut through the ropes, switching it for horror as the demon ran free. He was not an strong demon, he himself had told him so, yet he pushed the angel off his way and ran with little equilibrium with his tail still bind to one of his legs.

The soldiers were torn between going for the demon or for Sann, which he used to extend his wings and flap the three pairs of wings down, giving him enough power to impulse him up.

He was a fallen.

Sann had fallen and he could sense his god´s ire high up above the clouds.

But, if they had given him a chance to choose, they should´ve been prepared to hear a no.

He turned in the air and plummeted down towards the demon running to one of the borders. Saw him stopping cold and fighting inercia to avoid falling over. Sann extended his arms and curled on his wings to go faster and catch him right when the soldiers were about to reach him. Flying off with a twist and going down and down.

The demon screamed.

“DON´T LET ME FALL DON´T LET ME FALL DON´T LET ME FALL!!!” He panicked as he gripped to the angel´s chest.

“Hold tight!” Sann screamed back, as the muscles on his back protested the strain. They would have to hold on. Until they could lose the fifteen soldiers after them and their arrows.

The cold air pierced his lungs and the demon´s screams were starting to make his ears ring.

He turned through soldiers popping out, but if his calculations were correct, they could get through the barrier into the human world in just a few more meters.

Just a little bit and there would be freedom.

As soon as Sann flew away, his god trembled in fury but quickly collected themself to bark left and right to bring them their bow and a frask of poisoned demon blood.

If Sann refused to be theirs, if Sann had the guts to defy them and decide they wished to fall trying to protect a filthy demon, then Sann had been a failure needed of extermination.

The god prepared themselves. Picked up one of the arrows and submerged it on the frask. Then pulled back and waited. They knew their creation was fond of his wings and his flight, they had taken pride of a creature so devoted they would take what was most precious to him, himself.

“What a pity. But it´s alright, with your flesh, we will create a better version. Just like you surpassed the one before you” they let the arrow go “My sweet little bird”

Sann didn´t sense the arrow, but the demon did.

“Watch out!” He screamed turning Sann by pulling one of his wings. Right out of the arrow´s direction but in turn, it blew up one of his horns making him lose his grip around the angel.

He wasn´t a strong demon, he was not a shape shifter or had herculean strength. He was just a low class demon that was perfect for an angel without any battle training, to handle.

It was strange.

So, so strange to know he was gonna splat on the floor and he couldn´t avoid it, but had an angel rushing to meet him. Hand extended and screaming something he didn´t understand.

He was falling too fast and too hard, he was loosing consciousness, the last he saw were trees getting bigger and closer.

Ah, the human world.

The demon saw the black blood spill above him and made the effort to cover it.

He didn´t want the angel to get burnt with his blood.

In such dire situation his mind wondered back to those gray eyes telling him his name.

Sann…

He hadn´t been able to tell him his name.

He closed his eyes when he saw the angel´s wings expand and frenetically rush down. The last he felt was the angel´s…Sann´s arms wrapping around him. His wings covering them to protect them both as they fell into the woods.

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nicketynic · 4 years ago

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Prompt: Jon Snow falls in love with Sansa Rivers, Brynden's bastard.

Catelyn Tully Stark had never forgotten the strange, painful parallel of watching her uncle walking through Riverrun’s gates, her lord father’s bones in tow, cradling a babe bearing his look, imagining it eerily similar to Eddard’s return to Winterfell, the return that brought his bastard son inside the walls of his ancestral seat before his trueborn heir had ever graced them.

Her feelings for Jon Snow aside, Sansa Rivers was her dear uncle’s only child, bastard-born or not, beloved enough to be brought with him to RIverrun as he took up regency for Edmure. Through letters, Catelyn watched her grow, transitioning from sweet, spirited girl to kind, dutiful young woman, thoughtful and grateful toward every bit of advice Catelyn offered.

By twelve, Sansa had stepped so naturally into the role of Riverrun’s surrogate lady, just as Cately had before her, and remained so at sixteen when Robb’s march south saw armies and lords aplenty descend on the castle. Then Ned was gone, and sweet Sansa was a steady source of comfort and support in a sea of grief and loss. How could she not love this wonderful, giving girl, everything she would have wanted in another daughter if the Mother had seen fit, for all she never regretted helping Ned secure his bloodline, for all that Arya was a willful, spirited, irreplaceable gift?

Ned was lost to her, and a solemn specter of his likeness stood stalwart at their son’s side. While loss and his unwavering loyalty toward Robb had eaten away at the bitterness toward the bastard, nothing could stop her hackles from rising the first time she saw Snow’s eyes land on Sansa, widening with surprise and interest. So intent was she on diverting that attention, she nearly missed when Sansa began to return his gazes, until she was as moon-eyed as the boy. It was only the march into the Westerlands that relieved Catelyn’s vexation with the whole affair, and as the war raged on and months became a year, then two, she became certain the infatuation had long passed.

Now, Jon Snow was a Stark-born bastard of a different variety, no longer a political unknown but the last scion of a dead dynasty, poised to have his pick between several noble seats. Some argued Dragonstone was his right so long as he let the name Targaryen die, Robb stood eager to see him landed and titled in the north, and Uncle Brynden himself had mused whether Harrenhal would be an acceptable compromise (granted to House Tully by way of Whent blood), if only to keep his daughter close by.

Catelyn was wrong that time and distance would kill the attraction between Snow and Rivers, for all that Sansa had never spoken of or inquired about him within her hearing. Sansa herself had presented her desire for Jon Snow’s hand in marriage, and Brynden was showing no signs of refusing. Feeling the weight of his niece’s gaze upon him, Brynden raised his head, bushy silver brows over Tully blue arching expectantly.

Catelyn hesitated for a moment, straightening subconsciously in her chair before she spoke. “Uncle, are you certain this is the decision you wish to make? The boy has prospects now, but the Targaryen legacy is liable to haunt him for the rest of his days. His children as well. Is it wise to subject Sansa to that?”

Brynden studied her for a long moment, deep wells of Tully blue full of something impossibly sad and wise. “Trust me when I say, little Cat, there can be no better judge of that girl’s happiness than Sansa herself. Her life’s already been hardship enough since the day I gave her the name ‘Rivers.’”

For the first time since his fateful decision, Brynden Tully was fully certain he had made the right choice when he plucked up a little red-haired waif from obscurity all those years ago, Tully auburn a beacon to draw his eye among a group of war orphans at Fairmarket’s motherhouse. All the evidence he needed was the soft, besotted look in Sansa’s eyes, the confidence in the way she spoke of Jon Snow’s love being true. That was all he could have possibly wished for the child who held his heart even if she wasn’t born of his body, much like the clever Cat sitting nearby.

Let it never be said that the Blackfish of Riverrun didn’t look after his own.

Contrary to their elders’ assumptions, Sansa Rivers and Jon Snow hadn’t been blinded from the hardships of their world by infatuation or innocence, and had long since forged their own path ahead together.

This day, Jon sat quietly in the shadow of several large old elms in Riverrun’s godswood. His eyes were closed, whether in prayer or sleep his audience was uncertain, only that he paid her approach no notice until he felt the light pressure of her hand on his shoulder, warm breath tickling against his skin with a whisper in his ear.

“Perhaps it is improper to interrupt a man in such serious contemplation, but the solemnity on your face should be far removed from the beauty of this day.”

He jumped at the initial touch, glowering. Sansa allowed herself a few giggles at his disgruntled expression, leaning against his shoulder and letting her lips tease against the sensitive place below his ear.

Jon looked at her sharply, and she responded with a soft reassurance and a firmer kiss to his neck. “I circled this clever spot you found from every direction I could conceive of, love. I only saw you since I knew where to look. We’re safe.”

Jon relaxed, turning in her arms to shift her closer, Sansa settling comfortably in his lap. She circled her arms around his neck, drawing his mouth to hers in a lingering, adoring kiss. She drew back at the need for air, giving him a cheeky smile. “Husband.”

“Wife.”

For weeks, Sansa had felt the weight of eyes on her. Over the years of men coming and going from Riverrun, she had become accustomed to the hard, lustful stares thrown her way, unabashed in their audacity given she was bastard-born with no noble title to protect her modesty. The only thing that kept their stares as only stares, their hands from never daring to pinch or grope, rip or bruise, was the power of her father and cousin’s affection for her. Nothing more, certainly not through any virtue of her own, as barbed, gossiping tongues saw fit to remind her every season she was forced to play host to the ladies and daughters of Cousin Edmure’s bannermen.

When she finally distracted herself enough for the chaos of preparing for war, she was shocked to discover the owner of these particular eyes. King Robb’s bastard half-brother, taciturn, solemn Jon Snow. A man who seemed too serious, too stoic, too devoted, for any woman to draw his eye away from his intense focus on duty. She puzzled over his interest, and several times she felt the burn of his gaze, she turned around to seek the source. More often than not, his expression was carefully composed into a sullen frown, and he was quick to turn away, but once or twice, she caught him unguarded.

His expression naked and open, wistful yearning laid bare for her to see, unique to the entitled vulgarity she’d reluctantly grown used to over time. His was a quiet longing, appreciative and warm every time his eyes landed on her. Still he wouldn’t approach, not even as she began to return lingering looks of her own, not even when her smiles grew soft and inviting. He never came.

So she went to him herself.

“I hope I’m not interrupting, my lord. Please tell me if my presence is unwelcome, and I’ll leave you be.”

“Your presence could never be unwelcome, my lady. And I know we’ve discussed that I’m no lord. Please, call me Jon.”

“Then you should remember I’m no lady, but I know from experience you’ll demure. So be it.” She smiled, slow and enigmatic. “Jon.” She drew his name out, testing out the sound, and Jon could have died from shame at the flash of heat it caused him.

“Jon,” the sound of her voice, soft, husky, and alluring, was intoxicating, his name slipping from her tongue sweet as honey. “Jon, I’ve felt your eyes on me for weeks. Always watching me. Never approaching, Why? Am I wrong”

He couldn’t remember a time when his tongue had ever felt so thick and at a loss for words. “N-no, you’re not wrong.”

“Do you want me, Jon?”

She’d bewitched him, surely, how else could he justify actually giving voice to his next words? “Yes,” he choked out, voice hoarse. “Gods help me, do I ever.”

Her beautiful face hardened, something in her eyes growing cold. “So I’ve often seen, more through the years than I care to count. You’ve been kind, Jon. Courteous to a fault. Do you feel you have more a right to me because you haven’t resorted to slobbering and pawing?”

“No!” Jon went milk-pale, horrified at the very implication. “I would never dishonor you! I was never going to tell you, I swear it. Never belittle your worth with a delusion that I’d have any hope of your hand.”

“Hand?” In her confusion, something softened, peering at him with a puzzled, considering expression. “You mean to wed?”

Jon looked ill at the very idea of continuing to discuss his feelings, but he resolved to finish if only she could feel some measure of safety in his presence again. “A boy’s dream, my lady. I know that. I would never hurt you. Please believe me.”

“Oh, Jon.” She drew closer, and closer still, panic rising in him as he saw faint tears glistening in her eyes. “I do. I so wished I was right, that what I saw in you was true. You just proved that.”

Hands on his shoulders, lips a breath away from his, Jon trembled, fists clenched at his sides to keep from touching her. “I won’t dishonor you,” he ground out.

“Then wed me. But don’t leave me without knowing your love.”

“You can’t mean-”

“But i do. You return to war in a few days.”

“And you want to make yourself a landless bastard’s widow?”

“The hope is that I don’t become a widow at all. But where’s the stigma in being a bastard’s widow when I’m a bastard myself? I adore you for your honor, Jon Snow, but it’s not your honor I want to know before you ride into battle.”

“Gods help me. Gods help us both.”

It was the gods he prayed to save them that they wed themselves before later that night, kneeling before the sad-faced weirwood, then bedding down beneath its red-dripped branches.

He kissed his love with the virility of youth, with the guilty passion and love he’d been harboring. They separated only before the need for breath became too great. He exhaled softly, not daring to open his eyes as deft fingers threaded through his dark hair to pull him into another kiss. His arms tightening around her, his hands grew restless, aching to explore further. Desire raged through him in a sudden storm of longing, tantalizing him to the point of desperation.

He groaned, a low rumble resounding through his chest. At the sudden sound, they pulled away, each regarding the other with shy, darkened eyes.

It was Jon who broke through the tentative silence. “I cannot leave you with child, Sansa,” he whispered softly, touching his hand to her cheek.

She leaned into the touch, gently sighing at the contact. “There are ways around it, love, for all that I would love to have that piece of you with me.”

“I want that as well. Someday.”

“Then come back to me.”

Jon shifted closer, dipping his head to press his lips to her ear. “Always, so long as I am breathing.” He kissed her again, allowing his lips to linger for just a moment before descending in a trail of soft kisses down her jaw and neckline. Sansa responded with a breathless gasp, her hands working up into the folds of his tunic to meet bare skin. He groaned as she touched him, aiding her in allowing the garment to fall away from his shoulders. Drawing her into his embrace, her body molded into his as he pressed close. She gazed down at him, brushing heavy hair away from his eyes, tracing her fingers along the strong features of his face. The intensity of his dark gaze followed her every movement. “Love me, Jon. Please?”

He did not hesitate, his hands beginning to stroke and caress, his mouth seeking hers in a gentle, lingering kiss. Locked in a lover’s embrace, he pressed her back against the ground, the soft earth and the fragrant grasses of the garden floor cushioning their fall. Their world faded to the touch of mouth and skin, passion overwhelming every sense but that of each other.

Jon sighed contently as he gave into the moment. “I’ve missed you so very much.”

“I missed you as well. Thank you for keeping your promise.”

He kissed her softly, his eyes so warm and full her heart swelled with feeling. “I promised you always, as long as I breathe. I wasn’t certain you would still want this, knowing I’m not who you thought.”

“Nonsense. Jon Snow, Jon Waters, Jon Blackfyre, it doesn’t matter, as long as you remain Jon at your core. And Jon loves me still.”

“As long as I breathe,” he repeated softly, this time catching her mouth in a deep, soulful kiss. Sansa’s arms twined around his neck as she opened beautifully to his passion, his ardor, his devotion, fingers burying in his hair to drag him impossibly closer.

She pulled back just enough to speak, only a breath’s distance between their lips. “And if my kisses steal your breath away?”

“Then we’ll share it. We did promise to share this life together.”

“Then i can’t wait to share that journey with you.”

#jon x sansa #jonsa #asoiaf #my fic

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years ago

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Do you think the 3zun dynamics would change veryuchf they were age swapped? If NMJ were the youngest, or LXC the oldest, or even JGY as oldest? not a prompt, just warning your thoughts!

on ao3

Meng Yao went to Qinghe on Lan Xichen’s recommendation.

He’d never quite given up hope of finding his way even after his father’s rejection, and while Lan Xichen was kind and generous and everything Meng Yao had ever dared dream a cultivator could be, the older man was on the run, his sect burned, his family stolen – he was in no position to help him at the time.

Meng Yao had expected the leader of the Nie sect, who was reputed to be a righteous man, just and uncaring of status, to be much the same. Fiercer, of course; who had not heard about the tempestuous tempers of the Nie sect? But he’d expected something of that same ageless dignity, the way the two years that Lan Xichen had on him might as well have been a hundred years, that same feeling of distant awe as if looking up at a deity far above him –

He was not expecting Nie Mingjue.

Nie Mingjue, the youngest of the sect leaders of the Great Sects, who had prematurely inherited his sect after his father’s death and who’d run it with an iron fist ever since –

Nie Mingjue, who raised his younger brother like a father and lead his sect like a general –

Nie Mingjue, whose fighting skills were already renowned, whose people adored him, who stood against the world with no thought of anything but justice and revenge –

Nie Mingjue, who was a teenager.

“I’m almost twenty,” Nie Mingjue said with huff when he blurted it out, all his ideas about convincing the man to take pity on him – Lan Xichen had let slip that Nie Mingjue had a fondness for the underdog – going out the window at once. “And when I am, I will celebrate no one ever saying that again. Come on, get up; who forced you to stay out here? I’ll have words with them.”

More than mere words, he brought his saber up in Meng Yao’s defense, and it wasn’t long thereafter that Meng Yao secured his position as the man’s deputy.

“More like babysitter,” Nie Huaisang teased, and didn’t protest when his brother shoved him out of his chair without even looking up. “He never had one when he was younger, you understand – probably why he never learned how to take care of himself. He was only twelve when he took the position of sect leader, you know, and he hasn’t grown up one tiny bit since.”

“Huaisang! Shut up!”

Twelve, Meng Yao mouthed to himself. When he was twelve, he’d still been marking time at the brothel, doing odd jobs for a miniscule wage – he was barely entrusted with serving drinks. The only thing he’d been in charge of had been a few scrappy street kids that were awed by anyone who slept indoors; he couldn’t even imagine having to run a sect, much less as ancient and powerful a one as the Nie sect.

“You can ignore anything my brother says,” Nie Mingjue told him. His cheeks were darker than usual – was he blushing? “Consider than an official order.”

Meng Yao had had plans for what he’d do if he ever managed to get in closer to a sect leader. He’d thought it over in those years since the fiasco at Lanling, brimming as he was with resentment – it was all mapped out: how he would flatter them with respect and awe, how he would learn their weaknesses and cater to them, how he would make himself indispensable to them without ever allowing them to realize that he thought of himself as more than the dirt beneath their feet.

Such a plan, in the face of Nie Mingjue, was useless.

“You are going to go to sleep right now, Sect Leader” Meng Yao announced, dowsing the candles in the main office one by one.

“You can’t order me a- a-” Nie Mingjue’s complaint was interrupted by a yawn. “- around.”

“There’s no point in you staying up and wasting paper that you’ll only have to fix tomorrow, Sect Leader Nie,” Meng Yao said with a gentle smile, “when you can instead go to sleep, get a good rest, and actually write something coherent in the morning.”

“M’not tired.”

You’re a liar is what you are, Meng Yao thought, unable to keep the fondness out of the thought.

“Whatever you say, Sect Leader Nie,” he said in his sweetest tones, the ones that implied but did not say that he was indulging a small infant.

Nie Mingjue grumbled and glared, but he did put down the papers, which had in fact become totally incoherent splashes of ink as he desperately tried to fight back the tsunami of paperwork necessary for a sect leader to complete – Meng Yao had offered several times to find him more secretaries, and Nie Mingjue always refused; after interviewing the first few applicants behind his sect leader’s back, Meng Yao realized that was such a well-known path to corruption that even he’d been forced to give up on it.

He reached out and idly tugged on Meng Yao’s sleeve. “You have to help me with it tomorrow.”

“Don’t I help you with it every day?” Meng Yao replied, putting his hands on Nie Mingjue’s shoulders – for all that he was little more than a child to Meng Yao’s eyes, Nie Mingjue was tall, excessively so, and Meng Yao suspected he might possibly still be growing, somehow – to walk him over to the bed. “If you mean that I should do it and read out questions while you train your saber, the answer is no, Sect Leader Nie. You don’t focus enough on what you’re deciding when we do that.”

“But Meng Yao –”

“If you make me sit outside in the midsummer sun for a full shichen just because you’d rather be doing anything but read about Wen Ruohan’s latest atrocity, I may have no choice but to quit.”

Meng Yao had never expected to ever say such a thing to someone in a position above him. He’d never expected that it would work.

“Don’t quit,” Nie Mingjue said at once, allowing Meng Yao to pull his clothing off to prepare him for sleep. For all his height and power, Nie Mingjue had an earnest personality that was exactly like one of the street kids Meng Yao had bossed around all those years ago, and somehow he’d found himself falling into precisely the same patterns. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Your work, probably,” Meng Yao muttered under his breath but still unintentionally audible, wincing the second the too-sharp words passed through his lips, but as always when he slipped up Nie Mingjue looked delighted rather than scandalized.

“But I get so much more of it done when you’re around,” Nie Mingjue protested with a laugh, reaching up to start undoing his hair. With anyone else, Meng Yao would have thought it was an invitation to stay longer, to perform other services, but no matter how often Nie Mingjue’s eyes trailed after him or how stunned he looked on the rare instances Meng Yao had reason to wear formal robes, he would never ask and, if Meng Yao offered, invariably and firmly refuse. “Go to bed yourself, Meng Yao, and that’s an order. Don’t worry about me – I’ll be good.”

Meng Yao averted his eyes and smiled.

Meng Yao didn’t especially regret killing the Jin sect captain.

The man had been an ass, rude and overbearing and incompetent; he had stolen Meng Yao’s achievements for his own, not giving him any room to climb up through the ranks by his own merit the way he had in the Nie sect – not even citing his name in any of the reports, erasing everything he’d done from the record as if he was nothing, and when confronted, claimed it was because he was nothing, deserved nothing. He’d laughed at Meng Yao for daring to think that he could ever be worth anything, for forgetting who his mother was, what his mother was.

Meng Yao had never been inclined to forgive such slights – the opportunity had arisen, the two of them alone in the remnants of the battlefield, and he had taken it without a second thought.

He did not regret his death.

But he did regret the expression on Nie Mingjue’s face when he saw him do it, the confusion and devastation in his eyes. Meng Yao had turned at his shout to see him, and perhaps it was his youth that made Nie Mingjue unable to fully hide his feelings away from one who knew him well, or perhaps it was simply not in his character – Meng Yao had seen it all.

Meng Yao wished he’d turned around a little slower.

Maybe if he’d been slower, he would have only see the anger and not the hurt; the rage, the blame, and not the trust shattering, naivete broken as if Nie Mingjue were seeing death for the first time, as if he were not the blood-soaked Chifeng-zun with a thousand lives lost to his blade.

The guilt, as Nie Mingjue blamed himself for having sent Meng Yao here –

The worry, as he began to wonder what else Meng Yao was capable of doing, what he might have already done while at the Nie sect –

The shame, at not having realized what Meng Yao was like.

Meng Yao’s excuses came slowly to his mouth, his silver tongue failing him, and anyway Nie Mingjue couldn’t quite decide if he was shouting at him to explain or telling him to shut up – his excuses were only making it worse, and Meng Yao knew that, he knew Nie Mingjue didn’t understand how words could hurt or the importance of glory (except he did, he who was called a child, inexperienced, naïve, and because of that his thoughts were overruled and ignored unless he fought for them), he knew Nie Mingjue wouldn’t kill someone over his personal hurt (even he should have, Meng Yao had wanted a thousand times to silence those self-important elders of the Nie sect, those condescending little sect leaders), he knew that Nie Mingjue had only ever wanted to do the right thing just because it was right.

He knew that the world had disappointed Nie Mingjue time and time again, and this time it was his turn.

Meng Yao did not regret the Jin captain’s death.

But if he could do it again, he might have let him live.

It was something to think about during his time at the Nightless City, as atrocities flowed easily from his hand and he won yet another sect leader’s admiration and trust, for it was only ever his father that refused to even let him try. The Wen sect was more like what he’d imagine the Great Sects to be, full of back-biting and scheming and everyone out for their own gain, and those games he knew how to play.

“I want that bastard’s head,” Wen Ruohan raged.

You, want someone dead? What a surprise, Meng Yao thought but did not say. Nie Mingjue would have liked him to say it; Wen Ruohan would have him whipped or worse if he did.

“Whose head, Sect Leader Wen?” he asked politely. The number of people that Wen Ruohan wanted dead was as countless as the grains of sand on a beach. “You need only say the word, and I will see what can be done.”

Often, nothing. They were at war, after all.

“That overgrown infant, Nie Mingjue,” Wen Ruohan said with a sneer. “Arrogant little demon; he was always too clever by half, even back when he became sect leader at the age of ten –”

“Twelve,” Meng Yao automatically corrected, then winced; crossing Wen Ruohan was a good way to get into trouble from which there was no escape, and he knew better.

Luckily, for all his anger Wen Ruohan was in a good mood, and he only gave a bark of laughter. “I keep forgetting that you weren’t raised a cultivator,” he said, rolling his eyes. “The Nie sect habitually lie about their ages, some old superstition or some nonsense like that, and it’s usually revised up. Perhaps they think they need to get living sooner than everyone else, what with those qi deviations of theirs. Pity they takes so long to get to – I’d like to see him bleeding his life away.”

The thought of Nie Mingjue bleeding from the qiqiao, his eyes bloodshot his nose running his mouth choking on thick black blood, was not one that Meng Yao much liked.

He got to see it anyway.

It was his own plan that did the trick: he knew how much Nie Mingjue trusted Lan Xichen, who he saw as almost an older brother; he knew, in turn, that Lan Xichen trusted him. It was not difficult to lead Nie Mingjue into a trap from which he could not escape.

Meng Yao should have learned from Langya that he would not enjoy the sight of Nie Mingjue humbled and humiliated, Nie Mingjue on his knees, Nie Mingjue have been beaten black and blue, dripping with blood, and still not bending – anyone else, and he would have been pleased.

Anyone else, except perhaps Lan Xichen, who was untouchable.

Perhaps he would have enjoyed it if Nie Mingjue were just a bit older – usually revised up, he thought, and wondered if he’d been right about Nie Mingjue still growing – if he’d been settled in his own skin, confident and self-assured and righteous in a way Meng Yao knew he’d never be, if he was as high above him as Lan Xichen but less worthy, but he wasn’t and he didn’t: he only saw the way Nie Mingjue’s eyes were wide and hurt upon seeing him, even though he should have known better after Meng Yao’s earlier betrayal, should have expected something like this.

Children never understood why people hurt them. Meng Yao hadn’t, when it’d been him.

Knowing what he knew, Meng Yao did not expect forgiveness when he struck Wen Ruohan down before he could end Nie Mingjue’s life.

He did not receive it.

“I think we should become sworn brothers,” Lan Xichen said, and the proposal so perfectly suited Meng Yao’s ambitions in Lanling – Jin Guangyao’s ambitions – that for a moment he wondered how he had managed to manipulate Lan Xichen into doing it without having realized he was doing it. “The three of us.”

“Three of us?” Jin Guangyao asked, because surely he didn’t mean –

“You, me, and Nie Mingjue,” Lan Xichen clarified. He smiled, graceful as an immortal descended from the heavens. “I would be happy to see the two of you friends again, as it was before.”

It will never be as it was before, Jin Guangyao thought. Nie Mingjue had barely refrained from killing him, turning away only at Lan Xichen’s urging; he had returned to the battlefield and cleaned up the rest of the war, and not once in that entire time had he said a word to Jin Guangyao. No letter, which he’d expected, but not even in the few times since when they’d met in person.

Not even at the banquet when Jin Guangyao was recognized officially by his father, and took on a new name, a new title.

It was about what Jin Guangyao had expected. He’d learned long ago in the brothel that even the most foolish child would learn to shy away from you if you hit them enough – if he sometimes missed the feeling of being able to speak his mind freely, recalled Nie Mingjue’s badly hidden glee at having elicited a real reaction from his unflappable deputy, was wistful for the days of being in a sect where the Sect Leader listened to him and let him shine, well, that was on his own head.

Just one more thing he’d sacrificed, never to be recovered.

He didn’t say that. He only smiled and said, “You know I hold both you and Sect Leader Nie in the highest esteem; I would be honored. But as to whether Sect Leader Nie would agree…”

“He already has,” Lan Xichen said, and Jin Guangyao was truly shocked. “We can do the ceremony at the end of the week, if it suits you.”

“Of course,” Jin Guangyao said. He went to try to find Nie Mingjue himself, but the wall of hostility that surrounded the Nie sect, which he had found amusing when he was on the inside, now worked to repel him: the guards refused to let him pass, the new deputy aide told him that the sect leader was too busy to accept guests, the disciples refused to pass on letters, and even Nie Huaisang could not be found.

Even at dinner, Nie Mingjue did not meet his eyes once; it was as if nothing had changed.

Why would he agree? Jin Guangyao wondered. What did Lan Xichen tell him to make him agree?

In his heart, Lan Xichen was as untouchable as the moonlight, and yet for the first time Jin Guangyao felt the slightest hint of dissatisfaction – no, perhaps it was better said that it was Meng Yao who was dissatisfied, Meng Yao who had seen the fate of all those foolish children on the streets that were led into the abyss because they trusted too much. He knew himself to be the very same abyss: his words were as pretty and poisonous as any pimp’s, his motives as murky and foul, and Nie Mingjue had seen it.

Why agree?

When the ceremony was completed, they were congratulated and called the Venerated Triad, and in the evening they shared some wine – Lan Xichen’s idea, and a stupid one, since the next shichen was spent chasing their new da-ge around in an effort to convince him to stop climbing things or at minimum not to fall.

When at last it was late enough in the evening for the Lan sect’s strict discipline to kick in, and Lan Xichen safely stored away in his bed, Jin Guangyao gave a sigh of relief and turned to go.

A tug at his sleeve stopped him, and he turned to look at Nie Mingjue, who was frowning.

They were alone together, at last, and Jin Guangyao had a thousand questions and more, but he restrained himself and asked only, “What is it?”

He refrained from adding the ‘Sect Leader Nie’ that rose to his lips out of habit; he did not know if it was still appropriate.

“We’re sworn brothers now,” Nie Mingjue said, and Jin Guangyao could not read the expression in his eyes. “Given our ages, that makes you my older brother.”

“It does,” Jin Guangyao agreed.

“Since you’re my elder, that means I have to listen to you,” Nie Mingjue continued. “To be filial and obedient, as well as respectful.”

Jin Guangyao had not thought of it that way, but it was true: he was indeed the elder, and with their oath binding them, could expect such things to be due to him without having to concern himself with the differences in their rank.

“And in return you have to guide me and take care of me, to be concerned with my conduct and well-being; isn’t that right?”

Jin Guangyao nodded.

Nie Mingjue’s expression, which had been wary, firmed. “Good,” he said, and tugged on his sleeve again, an emphasis Jin Guangyao did not quite understand. “Mark your words. I entrust myself to you, er-ge; you can scold me as much as you like, but you have to model good behavior for me…”

He hesitated, then burst out: “No more killing, okay? No matter what, no killing anyone until you’ve learned to tell good from bad - if they anger you, you tell me and I’ll beat them up, but don’t you dare do it yourself! You hear me?”

Jin Guangyao’s eyes were as wide as saucers and a smile he had not had to force was on his lips. “You’re selling yourself and helping me count the money,” he told the foolish child, who scowled and glared at him. “I don’t deserve to hold something so valuable in my hands.”

Nie Mingjue huffed. “Maybe if you thought less about what you should deserve and more about your duty to what you already have, you’d have fewer problems,” he said tartly, Nie Huaisang’s da-ge shining through for a moment. “You’ve already sworn with me; it’s too late to take the deal back.”

No wonder he’d refused to speak to him before: Nie Mingjue had too many feelings and was too bad at hiding them – he would never be able to hide his intentions if they had had time to speak, and he had clearly been determined to lure him into this trap no matter what.

As if he thought Jin Guangyao would refuse.

“No more killing,” he promised, already aware that such a vow would be an impediment in his plans and not quite managing to care. The steel of Qinghe shone cleaner than all the gold in Lanling; he would not throw away a treasure a second time. “You have my word.”

“And you consult with us about your troubles,” Nie Mingjue added, seeing he’d won an inch and trying to get a mile. “You can be good, Meng Yao; you only forget sometimes, when there’s something you want more – you can trust Xichen-ge, at least, even if you don’t want to come to me, but don’t go alone anymore.”

“Because I can’t be trusted?”

Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes at him. “Because you’re ours,” he growled, a little tiger cub flashing its milk teeth, and he wasn’t talking about Lan Xichen. “You’re ours and we’re yours, and it’s about time you started acting like it!”

“All right,” Jin Guangyao said, feeling indulgent again. “Be good, A-Jue, or else I’ll think you think you’re the elder, not the younger.”

Nie Mingjue flushed red and ducked his head to hide it – it might have worked, too, if he wasn’t so tall or Jin Guangyao so short; he could see the embarrassment on his face at once.

A bit exaggerated a reaction to such mild scolding.

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” Nie Mingjue’s voice stuttered a little, which Jin Guangyao hadn’t even known was possible – how delightful. “No one’s ever called me that, that’s all.”

Moved by an unspeakable impulse, Jin Guangyao reached up and touched Nie Mingjue’s head, and was delighted to find that his hair was as soft as he’d always suspected it would be.

“Well, you don’t have a choice but to bear it,” he said, happy without even a trace of resentment in his heart. “I’m the older brother, remember? You made the deal; you can’t back out of it now.”

Nie Mingjue smiled at him, his eyes curved up, and then abruptly the smile faded.

Jin Guangyao’s heart, always wary, recoiled at once: “What’s the matter? Do you regret…?”

“Oh, no, not at all! And anyway it’s not you! It’s…our da-ge is climbing out the window behind you.”

“Oh no!”

Learning to trust would take some time, but Jin Guangyao felt confident that he’d figure it out eventually.

He always did.

#mdzs #jin guangyao #meng yao #nie mingjue #lan xichen #3zun #my fic #my fics #age swap #a matter of age #chuplayswithfire

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