#No Need to Regret ch 20 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mechformers · 1 year

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Ma Miles - Ch. 19

11.8k words

Chapter warning: Food? Handfeeding? Arguing? Idk anymore XD

Wow... um, although I am so late and I do apologize for that, this chapter just kept growing and growing until it became a monster lol We ended up with 11.876 words for this chapter alone... So, with that, I do hope you'll enjoy! Leave me a comment and make me the happiest little writer alive? :3

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Previous chapter | Masterpost | Chapter 20

Flying with Hawnu doesn’t bring you half the comfort you had hoped it would. Spider has turned in your arms, legs locking behind your back as he holds onto you, comforting you as if you were the one who needed comfort. You’re afraid to squeeze him too hard against you, but as your tears keep falling, you’re absolutely helpless to do anything but hide your face against his shoulder while holding him closer still.

“I’m alright, Mom,” Spider mumbles, a little breathless, and immediately, you loosen your tight hold on him.

“I’m supposed to protect you,” Your voice sounds pathetic even to your own ears, but Spider looks up at you with sad eyes.

“You do - you always do, Mom,” His beautiful brown eyes glitter in the sun and for just a moment, you let yourself commit them to memory once more.

“I wasn’t there for you to protect you against that - against your father,” You reel your anger in for the sake of your son, but by the way he sighs, it’s evident that your attempt at not calling his father names has failed.

“Mom, I know you’re disappointed with him, I am too. But the moment I was in danger, he gave it all up - to save me,” Spider’s eyes plead with you as he advocates for his father. “He had Jake, he had him, Mom. But when I stepped forward, his panic was real,”

“He had no right taking you - taking the children. To use them in his game of war,” Although you want to ask, although you want to know what happened, you don’t.

“He doesn’t know our ways, Mom,” Spider still defends him and it makes you angry that your son can be this forgiving.

“It doesn’t matter if the demon knows our ways or not,” You sneer, the anger inside you bubbling to the surface, “He should have kept all children sacred. Should protect them with everything that he is,”

Spider flinches in your arms and immediately, regret fills you. It wasn’t often that you argued like this, disagreeing - sure - but not straight out arguing.

“He wasn’t going to hurt Kiri,” Your son squares his shoulders as he narrows his eyes at you and at that moment, he resembles the demon so much.

“You don’t know that,” You growl down at him, watching as his beautiful eyes filled with an emotion you never wanted to see in your son.

“I know him better than you ever will if you think he’d kill a child,” Spider sneers, and the sheer venom and disgust behind his words takes you by surprise.

You’re helpless to keep him from turning in your arms, to stare blankly ahead as he crosses his arms in front of his chest. You should probably find comfort in the way he still trusts you to catch him, should he slide off of Hawnu, but you don’t. You’ve never had an argument like this before, never shared heated words like these. It makes you take a step back, to look at what you know, and analyze it once more. In the back of your head, you can feel Mo’at’s eyes staring at you, silently waiting for you to come to her while she offers her silent support. By the time you circle back to the village, the eclipse is nearly upon you. You haven’t spoken a word since Spider hit you with his cold facts. But still, how could you trust that that was the truth?

“Will you tell me what happened?” You ask Spider, noticing how his soldiers hitch up to protect his neck, “Please,”

“He doesn’t know who he is, Mom,” Spider’s voice is so small you almost miss it, but it makes the impact of his words that much more important to you.

“How do you mean?” You don’t know if it’s the right question, but you hope that your son will allow you room for error nonetheless.

“He… He was made in a lab, like Jake, but he died all those years ago when Neytiri killed him,” The mention of Neytiri makes betrayal burn hot within you, but you bite your tongue, patiently waiting for Spider to collect his thoughts.

“They put his memories and personality in a soul stick and when his new body was ready, they put it into his mind. When he woke up, when all of them woke up, they still thought they were human,” What Spider tells you makes sense in a way it shouldn’t have. What would it be like to wake up as someone you were not?

“But he’s not that man anymore. He said it himself, the others said he had changed too. Said he’s kinder,” Spider continues, his voice low, so confident in the words he speaks. “He doesn’t know what to do anymore because of you,”

“Because of me?” You can’t help the surprise that enters your voice as you look down at the back of your son’s head.

“You showed him what a family was supposed to be, Mom,” The words are spoken so low as if he can’t believe that you didn’t already know. “You taught them about patience and respect, you gave them the knowledge they needed to be their own person,”

“But he still has to answer to the General, Mom,” The mention of that vile woman makes you hiss in response as your ears snap back against your skull. “What he did isn’t right and I’m not excusing his actions, but he was their leader. He tried to do what was best for them,”

“Killing Jake will not help them,” You counter back, only for Spider to sigh.

“No, but it would have kept the General from threatening them,” Your son turns his head to level you with a stare he rarely used, one who told you that whatever he was saying, no matter how outlandish, was the truth.

You had learned the hard way what it meant to cross his stare, had learned the hard way the consequences it would have. The first and only time you had brushed it away, it had nearly cost him his life had it not been for Hawnu. From that day on, no matter how wild what he told you was, while wearing that expression, you had taken his words to heart as if it was Eywa herself delivering the message.

“What do you mean?” You ask evenly, pushing your emotions aside to give him your full attention.

“They thought I wouldn’t understand or thought I didn’t hear, but she threatened him with their lives every opportunity she had. She told him how he needed to show her some results, how he needed to prove to her that her faith in them wasn’t misplaced,” Spider’s face grows helpless as he tells you what he’s heard, a desperation you never wanted to hear again entering his voice as he continued, “But she meant him, Mom. She meant that he needed to prove to her that her faith in him wasn’t misplaced, or else…”

You knew this to be the truth. Even if he hadn’t overheard the threats, even if she had underestimated Spider because he was a child, thinking that he wouldn’t understand. In the deepest pit of your soul, you knew that this woman, this the General Ardmore, would try to manipulate the devil to do her bidding. The unit had been the only ones he held dear, the only ones he cared about - often on behalf of his own wellbeing. His exhausted face when entering your room in the early hours of the morning was still fresh in your mind. The way he would collapse beside your nest to catch a few hours of sleep before he was up again, ready to lead his unit. If you were being honest with yourself, you had known that he worked himself to the bones to secure his unit’s wellbeing, and now; you knew this to be the truth.

“Mom?” Spider questions, his voice uncertain and small, so unlike the confident young man he had become.

“Alright,” You tell him, meeting his eyes, “Alright,”

“Yeah?” The hope shining in his beautiful brown eyes makes your heart tighten painfully.

“Yeah,” You parrot, promising him that you will find a way to guide the demon, to steer him right once more.

You watch as Spider sighs with relief before he turns back to stare ahead toward the village in the distance. Leaning back against you, he holds onto your forearm as you wrap it around him to hold him close to you. Leaning down, you breathe in the mess of his hair, closing your eyes as his scent brings you comfort.

“I’m sorry,” You mumble against him, squeezing him harder.

“I’m sorry too, Mom,” Your son bands his head back to smile up at you and just like that, it feels as if nothing can hurt you again, not as long as he’s happy and safe.

Hawnu lands carefully on the sandy beach you had first arrived at, his powerful wings bending in to allow the two of you easy access. Mo’at lands behind you, the older woman gracefully sliding off from her own ikran before sending it away. She has been uncharacteristically quiet since arriving at the Metkayina islands, uncharacteristically quiet whenever she was teaching you.

“There is a basket with food waiting for you by your kelku, Spider,” Mo’at hums as she comes to a stop beside you, silently asking for your time.

“Eat well, my son,” You smile as Spider turns to leave, his smile knowing as he looks back at you.

“He will be a mighty leader one day,” Mo’at hums her voice soft, curtain in a way only a Tsahìk’s voice could be when speaking of the future.

“I want you to take up tsakarem,” And there it was, what Mo’at had been chewing on, the cause for her silence since leaving their home behind.

“I can not be tsakarem, Tsahìk,” You counter, hoping that she will understand. “I do not possess the blessing needed by the Great Mother,

“What you possess or not, is not up to you to decide, child,” Mo’at snaps back, her voice firm, leaving no space for argument.

“Even if the Great Mother would send me a sign, guiding me toward such an honorable purpose, I do not have the time to dedicate to these studies. I must take care of my child and I must decide on what to do next,” It’s obvious that Mo’at had not expected you to deny her wishes, her lips thinning as her eyes narrow minutely.

“Your son is a man, even though he can not pass his Iknimaya,” The Tsahìk strikes back as if this conversation is a battle of wills.

“My son,” You bite out, unable to keep the exhausted tears from swimming in your eyes as you steel yourself against your Tsahìk, “Is a child who has been through events I would not have wished on my greatest enemy. He will require time to heal,”

Mo’at huffs at that, her hands tightening into fists by her sides while her lips thin further. It’s clear as the eclipse that your Tsahìk does not agree, but you are Spider’s mother. If anyone knows what he needs, it would be you. The tears you had been fighting to keep at bay fall, one following the other until you’re silently crying in front of your Tsahìk

“Do not baby him, Y/n,” Mo’at sighs, tsking at you as she seemingly decides to let the conversation go for now. “The Great Mother has spoken about your futures, you will not be able to deny her plans for you,”

And with that, your Tsahìk leaves you on the beach to turn her words around in your head. ‘Your futures,’ keeps spinning around until your head starts hurting. If Mo’at has received a sign from Eywa, would she not have told you about it already? Would you not have received a sign too? The memory of dancing atokirinas comes to mind but you push it away immediately, not wanting to think about your mistake.

With a deep sigh, you leave the sandy beach behind. You’re not really hungry as you pass the communal meals. Neytiri’s eyes catch yours where she sits with her family, Neteyam nestled close between Jake and her. You don’t want to look at her, don’t want to talk with her. When Neytiri rises, Jake grabs her hand, shaking his head before smiling gently at you. A part of you that’s not hurt by the two, thanks him for understanding that you need space. But the part that is still bleeding makes you avert your eyes as you continue to walk back to your kelku.

You’re happy to realize that it’s quiet inside. The warriors that stand guard, greet you gently as you walk toward the entrance of your kelku. But from across the room, yellow eyes meet yours, halting you in your stride. Turning your back to the demon, you close the flap, just to occupy your hands. You hadn’t wanted to go to sleep yet, but with the demon still awake, seemingly awaiting our arrival, you’re left with few options. One by one, you fasten the buckles that keep the harsh night winds from chilling your sleeping bodies, bathing your kelku in darkness, only to be illuminated by the pit in the middle.

Walking over to your nest, you can’t help the smile that crosses your lips as you look down on Spider’s sleeping form. It seems that no matter how old he gets, he never stops curling in on himself with his blankets. Getting in behind him, you curl protectively against his back, wrapping your arm around him to hold him close. You still dread the day he will be too old for this, for the day he will make his own kelku and leave yours to live alone or hopefully, with a mate that adores him. Leaning forward you kiss the back of his head before closing your eyes.

Behind you, the demon sighs before the rustling of his own blankets fills the quiet kelku. He groans as he gets up from his nest before heavy footsteps take him to your own. Coming to a stop behind you, you’re unable to keep your shoulders from rising to protect your neck, your ears pinning flat to your skull. Kneeling by your nest, the demon breathes heavily as he decides on what to do, eventually finding his resolve as he takes a deep breath.

“For what it’s worth, I am sorry, sweetheart,” The demon rumbles, his voice husky and deep.

He kneels there for a while longer before getting up, walking over to lie down in his own nest, the blankets rustling before he quiets down. Slowly, you let out a breath you weren’t even aware of holding. Your heart hurts for him, for the pain he has caused you… for the cold distance between you. Trying your best, you eventually fall into an uneasy sleep, the events of the day playing in your mind, torturing you in your fitful sleep. By the look of the demon the next morning, he had fared no better.

Opening your kelku, you welcome the fog-like wind as you greet the early morning. The sun had yet to fully rise by the time the flaps to your kelku were all rolled open and attached to the sides. It gave you time to sit by the sea-facing opening while Spider slept, your legs dangling over the edge toward the water as you sliced open the spartan fruit in your hand. It isn’t long before the demon’s long legs join yours, his toes touching the water's surface as he sits down beside you. The silence stretches on, neither one of you knowing what to say to the other, so instead, you hand him half of the spartan fruit you had slices open. Together, you watch the sunrise bathing the village in the bright light of day, in silence. Spartan fruit long since gone, you distantly worry if the demon needed more than half a fruit, but as you get up to fetch another, Jake and Tonowari knock on the wall outside, making their presence known.

“Good morning,” Jake greets, his ears pinned to his skull as his tail twitches anxiously behind him.

“Good morning, Jake,” You smile reassuringly at him, hoping to put him to ease.

“I see you,” Tonowari greets formally, but the smile on his face is anything but, “I see you, Spider,”

Looking behind you, you can’t help the chuckle that leaves your throat as you take in the sleepy state of your son. His eyes are thin slits as he sleepily greets Tonowari back, his messy hair sticking out in odd directions. He looks as if he’s slept hard, something that makes all of them smile fondly as he works his way through greeting Jake, all but falling asleep in the middle.

“Demon, I trust you are healing?” Tonowari addresses the demon, his shoulders squaring as he levels him with a look.

“I am,” The demon replies, foregoing all formalities as he tries to cross his arms over his chest only to wince in pain.

“Good,” Tonowari hums before turning his head toward you again, “Y/n, as your companion and your responsibility, you are to resume his lessons, teaching the demon the Na’vi way. Jake Sully will teach him how to hunt, how to ride tsurak,”

“W-w-what’s he saying about Sully?” The demon stutters in desperation to understand what’s been said, waving his hand toward you while his tail twitches anxiously behind him.

“Be quiet, demon,” You hiss at him, only for Spider to snort from your nest, making the two of you snap your heads in his direction.

“Hey, I didn’t say anything,” Spider grins, throwing his hands up in the same way his father and Jake do.

“What do this mean?” You growl with frustration, doing the same hand gesture, “I do not know this hand thing,”

“What do you mean you don’t know what it means?” The demon hums from behind as he moves closer, repeating the gesture, “It’s universally known,”

“Yeah, I always assumed you knew,” Jake parrots the demon’s confusion as he too steps closer, doing the same hand gesture. “Everyone knows what this means,”

“I know this meaning,” Tonowari proclaims proudly. Still, neither one of them actually takes the time to explain it to you, until the demon’s eyes land on you and immediately his face softens.

“It means that we come in peace, that we mean no harm,” The demon offers, his voice low and gentle. “It means that we surrender,”

“Why do you not say that?” You ask, your confusion only deepening.

“Why do you do the gesture with your hand while greeting each other?” The demon counters just as quickly, his face open, welcoming the discussion.

“It is the way of the people,” You reply proudly, your shoulders squaring with your response.

“Well, sweetheart, this is the way of my people,” His hands come up once more to demonstrate and for once, you cannot fault him.

Nodding your understanding, you take a deep breath as you try to remember the meaning of the gesture, memorizing it. You have always respected other cultures and their customs, you were not about to stop with his just because he was not of this world. You had respected his weird tweng and armor, had respected their unit clans and their ranks - their different purposes within the unit. If this gesture was the way of the sky people, then it was one you would have to memorize, if not for the demon, then for the sake of your son.

Tonowari looks so confused where he stands and it’s only then that it occurs to you that he doesn’t know the English. Looking at Jake, he doesn’t seem worried at all, but it doesn’t make it right. Immediately, your tail twitches anxiously behind you which draws Jake’s attention quicker than it should have, seeing as he wasn’t even looking in your direction. You get the unsettling feeling that your old Olo’eyktan sees more than he lets on.

“If you are to learn the Na’vi way, we will speak the language of the people,” You turn your head to look at the demon, watching how his face scrunches up as he tries to follow what you just said.

“Fair enough,” The demon starts only for his ears to flatten against his skull as you hiss at him, “Okay, okay,”

“You should heed your ma-” Tonowari starts but Jake coughs loudly, beating his fist against his chest loudly while sending Tonowari a look you can’t decipher. It’s obvious that he has just stopped the Olo’eyktan from saying something, but as you narrow your eyes at Jake to explain, he feigns ignorance.

“As I was saying; you should heed your teacher,” Tonowari continues, changing up his words, but you do still not recognize what made Jake interrupt his words, “She will teach you everything you need to know and together, we will teach you about the water,”

“Every morning, you will learn to be one with the sea” Tonowari gestures to Jake and Spider, and you note how they both smile gently at you.

The mention of the sea, however, has the demon taking a quick breath as he stiffens beside you. His tail twitches anxiously as his ears lower, narrowing to sharp points against his skull once more. Immediately, the nurturing side of you latches on. You’re helpless to witness as your hand reaches out to gently hold his forearm as you smile softly, encouragingly, up at him when his head snaps to look at you.

“You do not know the water,” Tonowari looks directly at the demon, noting his reaction, before his gaze turns to yours, “But you will,”

“I would suggest communal meals to be a good place to start. Your son already knows some of the people and you already know the Sullys. You have my word that you will be safe here, but he is of the sky people, he has caused a lot of suffering. The demon’s path will not be easy and by association, yours might be tainted too,” The big man speaks gently, slowly as if to help the demon with understanding what’s being said.

You know he’s been successful when the demon’s eyes turn to you once more, his face scowling while he’s deep in thought. He seems to have understood what the Olo’eyktan had said, only to find that he didn’t like the implication of the words spoken. His tail whips quickly behind him in agitation, but his ears rotate, open and attentive, toward you. It’s obvious to everyone that he’s having a battle within himself, one he eventually knows the outcome of as he huffs air through his nose and looks at Tonowari. To everyone’s surprise, he nods his head while gesturing ‘I see you’. It seems to be the right course of action when Tonowari mirrors the gesture before turning back to Jake. The two men mumble something to each other, but all your attention is on the demon, your own tail moving behind you as your ears turn to him, curiosity clawing at the back of your mind.

“You hungry?” Jake asks a few moments later and just like that, your spell is broken.

“We are,” You reply as if it wasn’t already obvious that you would be hungry after yesterday’s events.

Reaching out for Spider, you bend down to kiss his hand once he grabs yours. Smiling down at him you can see just how pleased he is with the outcome and it occurs to you that he has been worried about what would happen with his father and you. Turning your head to the demon you nod your head toward the entrance of your kelku, gesturing to him to follow you. Jake’s looking at you with an almost pained expression, but when you move past him, he follows beside the demon. Spider leads you through the village, excitedly chatting about the new adventures he and Lo’ak are going on. He keeps talking about Payakan and how he’s such an amazing creature. It stings your heart when you realize that you can’t remember who Payakan is, but then you enter the communal meal and all the heads of the clan turn to stare at you.

Immediately, your ears pin closer to your skull, your tail wrapping around Spider’s small thigh to keep him close as he leads you through the people to where the rest of the Sullys already sit waiting. Neytiri’s expression is pained when she looks up at you, her own expression mirroring yours as her tail wraps around Neteyam. She’s just as unable to help the response as you were and for just a moment, your own pained and betrayed emotions are shoved to the side to see Neytiri for who she really is - a mother to another mother. The way you stand frozen in the middle of the communal circle is awkward, giving the people something to look at while they eat. A gentle hand grabs your shoulder and for a moment, you’re helpless you reach up to put your own hand over the long digits, squeezing hard as you hold the demon’s hand. You hate to admit that his reassurance grounds you, that his presence calms you enough to break out of your frozen state. But when he moves in front of Spider and you, your hand still clasped in his, your confusion sets in.

His entire body is rigid, his tail whipping agitatedly behind him while his own ears are pinned back against his skull. Still, he bends his head and gestures “I see you,” to Neytiri, the older woman growling deep in her chest before she does the same. You’re so confused when he leads your little fami - when he leads you to the place beside Mo’at, greeting her the same way.

“Corporal,” The demon rumbles when he has ushered you to sit, “Can you show me where to get food?”

Immediately, you hiss at him and his stubborn mind. The demon’s ears rotate forward to you, open and wide as he curiously looks down at you with his hands open between you - the sky people gesture for not meaning any harm.

“Can you show food?” The demon stumbles through the sentence, making the people close enough to hear snicker loudly.

The demon’s ears snap back against his skull as his tail twitches anxiously behind him. He’s growling deep in his chest, the sound almost painful with how deep it is. Yet he only stares at Jake, waiting for him.

“Come on, Quaritch,” Jake huffs a chuckle as he shakes his head before walking off.

It leaves you alone with the eyes of what feels like the entirety of the Awa'atlu village pinned on you. It’s uncomfortable, but when you look down at Spider, he doesn’t seem to care about the attention. Looking further, you note how Neytiri doesn’t look at you, her ears still folded down against her skull, where she sits beside her son, his hand in hers as she draws invisible nonsense in his hand. Looking down at your own son’s hand still in yours, you notice how you’re doing the exact same thing. You’re unable to help the breathless chuckle that leaves you at the realization.

“I trust you have found rest, my child?” Mo’at hums from beside you, her all-seeing eyes looking through your soul.

“It was fitful, Tsahìk,” You respond honestly, knowing that she would see the truth whether you responded or not.

“Your path will not be easy, child. Are you prepared to walk it before the eyes of the Great Mother?” The look in Mo’at’s eyes tells you that there’s something she’s not saying, that there’s a knowledge of the future that she is not entrusting you with for whatever reason.

“If it is Eywa’s will, then I will walk it,” It’s not the response you want to give, but it is the only one you can give.

You got yourself into this situation, not, you must trudge the path that slowly builds before you, trusting that the Great Mother will not desert you, that the path will be sure - strong and just - as it’s built. Mo’at looks up at something beside you, a knowing smile on her lips before her eyes shift to Jake as he bends down in front of her and presents a food wrap.

“Here,” The demon mumbles in front of you, his tall frame hunched down into a crouch.

“Thank you,” You hum without looking at him, reaching out to take the offered food wrap.

It doesn’t cross your mind before the demon gave Spider food and sat down beside Mo’at with his own food wrap, that you had just accepted the demon’s courting advances once more in front of the people. Mo’at looks at you with that same knowing smile, as your ears droop with the realization of what you have just done. Jake is staring at you with curiosity, a gentle, crooked smile on his lips. Neytiri looks disgusted while Neteyam grins beside her, the mirth in his eyes so much like his father. Looking down at Spider, his beautiful brown eyes glitter in the warm morning light as he looks up at you with a happy smile and just like that, even though you had decided on the demon’s ignorance of the gesture, you would do it all again just to see this expression on your son’s face again.

Sighing, you unwrap the food, bending the leaves back only for your eyes to shoot up in surprise, meeting the hopeful yellow of the demon. He looks at you intently, waiting for you to eat, as if he’s aware of what he’s doing. Snapping your eyes over to Jake, you’re met with the smuggest expression you have ever seen on the Toruk Makto before he lifts his hands in the air before his chest and shrugs innocently. Narrowing your eyes at him only makes him laugh, however. Looking down at the food in your hand, you take a deep breath, closing your eyes for just a second before picking a bite of your favorite food, bringing it to your lips, officially sealing your acceptance of his courting. In your peripheral sight, you can see the demon’s ears have rotated towards you, open and wide, as he waited. Pleased with what he sees, his tail twitches happily as he digs into his own food.

The people watch you while you eat, their eyes boring into your every action as you eat. It’s humiliating to be watched this closely as if your very existence is a spectacle for them to entertain themselves with. It makes you angry, sad, and despaired as there’s absolutely nothing you can do about the situation. So instead, you try to consecrate on Spider, watching how your son digs into his breakfast as if he was starving. It’s only then that you notice that his food wrap had freshly diced yovo fruit in them. In surprise, your eyes shoot up to look at the demon, his own eyes already trained on you, observing you. Beside him, Mo’at chuckles to herself, but the sound is enough to tear the demon’s eyes away from yours, giving you an out to look down at your food instead. The demon was providing for your son and you, showing you that he was worthy enough to court you, that you would not regret accepting his advances.

The realization sank like a heavy stone to the deepest pit of your stomach. You had accepted his advances before, no matter how innocent or accidental, and look where that had brought you. Lost in your own thoughts, you didn’t notice how everyone finished their breakfast or when they got up to leave for their chores. A hand reaches forward toward you and instinctively, you grab it, sighing with comfort as the long digits wrap around your hand, holding it firmly, but carefully. Looking up, you’re rudely awoken once more, but it’s already too late. The demon gently pulls you up to your feet, steadying you with a hand on your hip as he smiles gently down at you. Whispers and disgusted sneers surround you as the people pass by, but you’re lost in the demon’s eyes. As if drowning, looking up toward the sunny surface, you search his yellow orbs, noticing the different colors that dance within them.

You had given this man so much, yet, he had only taken until he got what he wanted. He had endangered your son in his chase for revenge, had caused so much pain and suffering wherever he went. He was the bringer of death but caught in his sharp orbs, you’re unable to see the more - unable to see unsee the imminent rebirth that always follows in destruction’s wake. If Eywa be willing, maybe he would be the rebirth of the man he had once been. Still, he was a sky demon who clung to his past. You were uncertain if Eywa would ever be able to touch him again, uncertain if the Great Mother possessed such powers.

“Mom?” Spider hums beside you and reluctantly, you blink, breaking the connection with the demon still holding you.

“I’m alright,” You croak, your voice nothing but a whisper as you step away from the demon, putting some much-needed distance between you. “Are you full?”

“Yeah,” Spider grins, looking up at his father with a glint in his eyes, “I’m pretty stuffed,”

“Bro!” Lo’ak shouts from the other side, waving his hand excitedly as a few other kids join him. “You coming or what?”

“Yeah, bro! Be right there,” Spider shouts back, an even bigger grin on his face as Kiri walks up beside him, her eyes trained on the demon.

“We’ll be back tonight,” Spider hums, taking Kiri’s hand before taking a step toward the other kids, only to stop and turn back. “I love you, Mom,”

“I love you too, Spider,” You smile gently, feeling your heart bloom at your son’s love. “Be careful, alright?”

“Always,” He grins ad Kiri snorts behind him, pulling his hand to join her as she rolls her hands.

Still smiling, you take a step after them, watching as the children chuckle and poke fun at each other when they meet. Spider is so small compared to the other kids, but as the oldest child of Tonowari wraps a hand around his shoulder, he looks as if he’s found his place in this village. Behind you, the demon steps closer, his heat radiating between you. There’s a hand squeezing your shoulder gently and it’s only then that you realize that you’re clutching your chest with both hands.

“He like her,” The demon hums gently, his voice nothing but a series of rumbles that flow deliciously over your body. “She like him too,”

“Oh, hell no, Quaritch,” Jake barks suddenly, and just like that, the pissing contest is on again.

“What? You thinking my son is no good for you daughter?” The demon snarks calmly, his voice freezingly cold and dangerous as he stumbles through the Na’vi language.

“Kiri is too young to have a boyfriend,” Jake counters, smoothly dancing past the question, but it doesn’t fool the demon.

“Well, she’s not good enough for my son, how bout that, Corporal?” The demon growls, leaning forward to challenge Jake.

“Kiri is better than your son, she’s out of his league,” Jake hisses back, only for Neytiri to grab his shoulder firmly.

“What is this you’re saying?” You can hear your voice whisper, but the sound isn’t familiar to you.

“Shit,” Jake huffs, hand coming up to angrily rub at his temple as he shuffles back and forth on his feet.

“Apologize, ma Jake” Neytiri hisses none too gently, her voice furious as she scowled at him.

“You can’t be serious, babe, he -” Jake starts, but Neytiri’s hold on his shoulder tightens painfully, making him hiss and narrow his own eyes.

“I do not care,” Her eyes speak to him without words. They’re sharp and dangerous enough for Jake to lower his ears submissively and nod his head in understanding.

“I apologize,” Jake grounds, unable to meet the demon’s eyes, his tail thrashing angrily behind him.

It’s clear to everyone that he doesn’t mean what he’s saying. But it doesn’t matter, because a second later, the demon chuckles breathlessly as he prepares to shoot back. He doesn’t manage to get more than his mouth to open before you smack him in the chest with the back of your hand, turning your head to scowl at him. Immediately, the gleeful sneer slips from his face and his comeback dies on his tongue. Lowering his ears, he grumbles, fighting your command for him to shut up, before he eventually takes a deep breath and sighs, nodding his head once while staring at Jake. Meeting Neytiri’s eyes, you watch as her ears rotate hopefully toward you, but you’re not ready yet. Instead, you wrap your hand around the demon’s wrist and pull him with you as you leave the communal meal, heading for your kelku.

The demon doesn’t say anything when you let go of his hand, stomping your feet over to the fruit bowls left on the floor. Grabbing them, you angrily get to washing the wood, using way too much force while you do. Behind you, the demon steps closer without saying anything, but his presence still burns your back, the heat from his body higher than yours. You don’t know how long you keep washing the bowl, but when his hand gently meets the skin of your shoulder, you see that you’re still cleaning the same bowl you started on. Embarrassed, you snap your head back toward him and growl.

“What?!” It comes out so much harsher than you had wanted it to and immediately, you regret it.

But when you look up at him with your ears pinned back against your skull, his eyes have grown soft, his own ears rotating open and curious toward you. He gives you a gentle smile and although you are still angry, although you are still mad at him, the patience you usually hold for him is reflected in his eyes this time. Sighing deeply, you shake your head as you fight frustrated tears from falling. Hiding your face in your hands, you lose the battle quickly when a teardrop falls from your eye. It’s quickly followed by more and then you’re crying in front of the demon, your emotions all over the place.

His hand on your shoulder slowly pulls you forward, towards him, until your forehead rests upon his chest. The skin beneath the back of your hands is soft, yet firm, the heat radiating from his flesh calming in a way you had only felt a few times before. Strong arms wrap around you, gently pressing you to his body as you cry. The demon shushes you, the rumble of his voice vibrating where your forehead rests on his chest. Pulling your hands away, you let your forehead rest directly on his chest, your nose nestled between his curved pectorals. The scent from his skin is comforting, heavy, and round, like his embrace on your body. You don’t know how long you stay like that, all you know is that the demon is here for you, comforting and safe where he holds you.

“You are alright, mama,” He hums, his words slow as he pronounces each word. “You are alright,”

Slowly, you lift your head from his chest, your eyelashes sticking together from your tears. Tsking at you, the demon’s hands cup each side of your face before his thumbs gently wipe the excess tears from your lashes. Looking up at him, the sharpness in his eyes is back, but behind it, there’s something new, something you’ve only seen once - when you were…

“You must start your lessons,” You mumble, breaking away from the demon’s hold on you.

Your frustration over Spider’s treatment could wait. It was not something you could do anything about right now, not something you could do anything about period. You had to live with the hope that one day, the Na’vi would accept him for who he was, just like you had. You had always known that the people viewed him as different, but it wasn’t before the demon revealed what Neytiri had done that you truly understood just how much he was viewed differently. You would use the new knowledge to your advantage now, protecting your son against your people.

“Okay, teach me,” The demon speaks, opening his arms in a new gesture you do not understand.

“What does this mean?” You parrot his gesture, eyes curiously searching his.

“It mean I am open,” He replies, before furrowing his brows with uncertainty, “I thinking,”

Nodding to yourself, you start his lessons, revisiting what you had already taught the unit. The words come to his faster this time around, the demon putting in more of an effort to learn how to pronounce each word, asking questions, and learning how to bend his words. Before you know it, a genuine smile has cracked through your armor. It takes the demon by surprise, stopping him in his track. Offering a grin of his own, you shake your head at him.

“I will take you to Jake,” You offer, still smiling up at him.

“I will like that,” The demon hums, uncurling his long legs before rising, offering his hand to help you up again.

Staring up at him, you notice the hope in his eyes, the way his ears have rotated toward you, open and wide as he waits. You make a mental note that you like this side of him. The openness in his heart making him appear more approachable instead of the closed-off angry person he was before. Taking his hand, you steel your heart as he gently hoists you up to your feet. The way he’s staring at you makes your heart beat faster in your chest. Reaching up, you dare to let your fingers trace the open shell of his ear, watching as it snaps back against his skull, pointed and tense once more. You’re about to retreat your hand and apologize when his ear twitches and then, ever so slowly, it rises and unfolds before your very eyes. Lowering your eyes to meet his, you’re surprised to see the vulnerability in the sharp orbs. When you don’t move, however, the demon gently tilts his head until his ear touches your hand. It twitches before your fingers until you gently let your fingers trace his ear again.

“I like this look on you,” You whisper, the intimacy of the moment not lost on you.

“Like what?” The demon hums, the rumble in his chest dangerously low as his eyes slowly flicker close.

“Relaxed,” You hum back as your fingers round the wide tip of his ear, “Not tense or angry,”

“Hmm…” He hums back while leaning his head more firmly against your hand, “How do you know?”

“Your ears give your emotions away,” You whisper as the demon’s other hand wraps around your waist. “They’re always pointed and bent back, but now, they’re round and open - trusting,”

Letting your eyes fall to his once more, you’re surprised to see the heat blacking out the yellow. Your lips part in a gentle gasp as he lets go of your hand, instead lifting it to brush a stray braid from your face, gently putting it behind your ear. His eyes lift to the ear and you watch as the emotions he’s feeling cross his face in rapid succession - curiosity, uncertainty, resolve - and then his fingers touch your own ear, his fingers gentle. The demon’s eyes slowly slide down to yours once more, bewilderment dancing behind them. He’s beautiful, you note as he lets your eyes trace his features, patiently waiting for your assessment. Meeting his eyes again, your thoughts must be reflected in your eyes as the demon suddenly huffs a breathless chuckle, his breath warm as it ghosts across your lips. Immediately, your eyes fall to his lips just in time to see the demon’s pink tongue poke out to wet his lips before another huffed breathy chuckle leaves his lips. Meeting his eyes once more, you’re surprised to see that the black has almost engulfed the entirety of his eyes, the yellow only a slim circle by now. The hand by your ear caresses its way down your cheek until the demon’s finger and thumb hold your chin, gently lifting your head as he searches your eyes for consent. He must obviously find it reflecting in your eyes as his own crinkle in the corners just before he bends down.

“Quaritch, you ready for your - aww hell,” Jake hisses as he walks through the entrance of your kelku only to quickly turn his back on you again, “I don’t get paid enough to deal with this shit,”

The interruption snaps you out of the trance you were just in. Pushing away from the demon, you hiss as heat fills your face. You’re unable to meet his eyes, not after this. Taking deep breaths you close your eyes as you try to calm yourself. You had allowed this, had leaned into him, caressed his ear, and allowed his touch. Feeling tears prickle at your eyes, you quickly wipe them away as you let out an unsteady, wet breath before turning, steeling yourself.

“Corporal,” The demon growls, his tail whipping furiously behind him, his ears snapped back against his skull once more.

“Greet him kindly,” You hiss at the demon, refusing to meet his eyes when he huffs a humorless chuckle at you.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Jake starts, but you immediately interrupt him.

“You didn’t interrupt anything,” The hummed growl beside you sends a shiver down your spine, but you still refuse to look at the demon.

“Is that right, sweetheart?” The demon rumbles in perfectly fluent Na’vi, his voice so cold and angry it almost pulls a gasp from your lips.

“I did not stutter, demon,” You hiss back, still staring at Jake.

“Guess you didn’t, darling,” The demon huffs before stepping forward, “We got a place to be, Corporal,”

And then he walks out of your kelku without looking back at you. His shoulders are squared, his head held high - proud - but his ears and tail betray him though. Your heart squeezes painfully in your chest as you watch him leave, your tail whipping with distress as your ears pinned back against your skull. Your breathing isn’t coming as easily as it should and suddenly, you’re transported back in time while clutching onto your son’s body as sharp eyes guide you through until you can breathe freely again.

“You alright, Y/n?” Jake asks, his voice concerned and confused as he voices the question.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” You turn to him, hoping that the tears blurring your eyes are only visible to you.

“Okay,” He doesn’t sound convinced, but you don’t need him to be. You just need him to leave, so that you can breathe once more. “We’ll be done before the eclipse. Just meet us by the shore before the communal meal,”

Nodding, you breathe a sigh of relief as he turns to leave, walking quickly to catch up with the demon. You feel so humiliated where you’re standing, the shame crawling up your body until it’s all you can feel. How could you allow this to happen again? Had he not caused you pain unlike any you had ever felt before? Had he not stolen your child, hid him from you only to be used in a game of war? Still, your heart longed for him, called out to his soul in its desperate search for him to return. Sobbing, you wrap your arms around yourself as your knees hit the ground. Curling in on yourself, you let yourself cry as the realization that your feelings for him never stopped growing. You mourn for your future, mourn for your present, but more than that, you mourn for your past. If only you had been honest with yourself, maybe things would have been different…

You don’t know how, but when your sobs die down, you’re surprised to find the demon’s songcord clutched tightly in your hand. You’re clinging to it as if it was a lifeline as if it would somehow erase all the hurt and pain. Opening your palm, you let your eyes wander over the beads, remembering how you carved each one of them with such care. Rolling each one between your fingers you let the words to his song fall from your lips in a choked whisper. By the end, you find that you can breathe freely once more. Staring at the beads, you let the sound of the waves calm you as time passes by. When the skies turn orange, you get up on your feet, taking a few deep breaths before tying the songcord to your tweng. You would have to face the demon sooner rather than later and when you did, you would have to apologize to him.

Spider meets you halfway there, his smile and laughter as he waves his friends goodbye bringing warmth to your heart. Greeting him, you hug him close as he falls into step with you. His curious little hands inspect the new songcord attached to your tweng, his eyes looking up at you questioningly. Shaking your head, he knows he’ll get an answer soon enough, so he lets go of the songcord as he excitedly follows you. In the distance, you can see Jake and the demon on their tsurak, the creatures racing through the water as their maktos ride them. The grin that is plastered on the demon’s face makes you stop abruptly, the sight burning itself into your memory.

“Mom?” Spider asks, his voice curious as he steps in front of you, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, my love,” You smile down at him, only for his eyes to shoot up with delighted surprise.

“Is that Dad and Jake?” He laughs, running a few steps ahead to watch as they approach the beach. “When did he get a skimwing?”

“To-today,” You stumble, swallowing the feeling of hearing your son call the demon dad.

“That is so cool!” and then he’s off, running towards the beach to greet the men walking up from the water.

As you approach, you see the demon ruffle Spider’s hair as he grins, chatting excitedly up at his father as he fully emerges from the sea. Taking a moment to steel yourself, you put on a gentle smile that you don’t really feel, your nerves bouncing wildly in your chest. The moment the demon spots you, however, his posture changes. His back goes ramrod stiff as his shoulders square, his ears pin down against his skull and his tail twitches anxiously behind him. He’s an open book to read and what you’re reading is that he is uncomfortable. Maybe he’s embarrassed too? You have always pinned him as a private man, maybe getting caught in such close proximity displeased him.

“You did alright, Quaritch,” Jake grins, slapping his shoulder.

“Alright? I am greatest, Corporal,” The demon huffs, raising his eyebrow.

“Not quite, but you’re getting there,” The chuckle that leaves Jake’s lips is almost fond, but that couldn’t be.

“Yo, bro!” Loak and Neyeyam shout from the other side of the beach, bags slinging to their frames, “You coming or not?”

“So… The guys are staying out late tonight,” Spider starts and you already know where this is going, “Is it okay if I join them?”

“I have barely seen you today, Spider, you can join them another time,” You gently deny him, maybe more so for your own selfish sake, wanting to see him more.

“Mom, please?” He continues, batting his long eyelashes up at you, the warm glow of the sun glittering in his beautiful brown eyes.

“Go on, son,” The demon hums, ruffling Spider’s head again before pushing him off, “ Go having fun with friends,”

“You’re the best, Dad,” Spider chuckles, smiling so happily.

He looks up at his father with such adoration it almost breaks your heart when he turns to you to check if this really was alright. At that moment, your heart stops, freezing at the situation you find yourself in. It’s an impossible choice. If you refuse his father’s words, you’ll be the bad guy, but if you let him go, you’ll be sending him away when all you wanted to do was to hold him close. His beautiful brown eyes blink hopefully up at you and before you know it, the choice has already been made.

“Go on, Spider, be careful but have fun,” You can hear yourself say, feeling your lips stretch into a smile you don’t feel.

You watch as Spider runs to catch up with the ever-growing group of kids and even if you know that this was the right choice, you want to reach out to him, to pull him back. Watching him go had always been difficult, but after the events of the past months, it had felt impossible. Turning to the demon, you watch as he smiles after his son, his hands firmly planted on his wet hips.

“You had no right, demon,” You hiss, taking both him and Jake by surprise, but it doesn’t take long before the fire enters his sharp eyes once more.

“I’m his father, woman,” He growls, the sound dangerously low as he steps forward to grab your upper arm, hard.

“You are nothing but a… but an aid in his creation,” You sneer back as you pull your arm free of his grip

"Well… Theoretically,” The demon hisses right back at you, not missing a beat, “You're not even his mother,"

The demon hisses the last part childishly, and even though it's a stupid fight, to begin with, it hurts so deep within you that the gasp that leaves your body is almost inaudible. But it's loud enough. Immediately, the demon’s ears snaps back tightly against his skull, his tail coiling even tighter around his wet leg. His lips part and close on and off, but nothing comes out. It's like watching him drown and although you know, deep within you, that he didn't mean it, the same way you hadn't meant what you said, you can see the raw hurt within his eyes. So you do the only thing you know how to do; You flee, licking your wounds, leaving him where he stands - alone.

You never hear his whispered plea of "Please, don't leave,". But Jake does, and he's furious. It doesn’t take long before the full force of Toruk Makto comes crashing into your kelku, his fury all but dripping off of him as he walks toward you, barely able to retain his anger.

“What was-” He starts but stops, taking a deep breath to try and calm himself before continuing. “What was that, Y/n?”

“W-what?” You stutter, taking a step back from him.

“That!” He shouts before stopping again, “That -on the beach with Quaritch?”

“Nothing,“ You mumble, trying your best to seem as non-confrontational as possible.

“I never thought I’d be on Quaritch’s side, but here I am,” Jake chuckles humorlessly to himself as he shakes his head, before looking up at you again. "I know what it's like to be on the other side, Y/n. To have everyone's eyes on you, gossiping and sneering behind your back, thinking you'd be better off dead just because you're a demon from the skies - an alien.”

“To share a child like this, that's a gift, Y/n, not a rocking stone you use to hurt each other with.” Jake’s tone is deadly serious, the leader in him - the father - emerging as he speaks to you his eyes narrowed dangerously, ”Quaritch is Spider’s father whether you like it or not, and you are Spider's mother, whether he likes it or not. Fighting is alright, but you never leave each other angry like this. You never know when it'll be the last time you get to see each other,"

You’re helpless but to stand there and gape at him, your eyes quickly filling with tears as you know he’s right. Even though you knew that this situation was difficult for Quaritch, you hadn’t bothered to think about him more than the initial anger and betrayal you yourself felt. Quaritch had lost everything, everyone he stood near, and now, because you saved him from a fourth certain death, he was here in a Metkayina village he probably never wanted to be in, to begin with. Oh, you have been so selfish…

“Don’t play with his emotions like this,” Jake finishes, his ears drooping sadly against his skull, “God knows he doesn’t deserve it, but if you don’t want him as your mate, you need to let him know now so that he can move on and find happiness with someone else,”

And with that, Jake shakes his head and leaves your kelku. It’s not a magical cure to put yourself in Quaritch’s place, but it certainly gives you a new perspective. Biting your thumb, you pace back and forth before finally making up your mind. Quickly, you walk out of your kelku, speeding for the beach in hope that Quaritch is still there. You’re not surprised when you find the beach empty, with the exception of some fishermen arriving late. Looking around the beach you wonder what direction he could have headed when spotting his tall figure emerging from the communal meal. Running you notice the exact moment he sees you as he stops abruptly.

“I didn’t mean what I said,” You plead as you come to a stop before him, breath coming a little heavier than it probably should have. “I-I’m so sorry,”

“No, princess,” Quaritch hums, a soft smile on his lips as he shifts the steaming food wraps to one hand before reaching out to hold your shoulder. “I apologize,”

There’s an awkward silence stretching between you, neither one knowing what to say to the other. In the distance, you can see Jake talking with Tonowari, the two of them nodding in agreement as they look at you from within the communal circle. There’s no doubt that they’ve come to some sort of agreement, but as you tear your eyes away from them to look up at Quaritch, you couldn’t care less what they had agreed to as the sharp yellow orbs stare into yours with something painfully looking like hope.

“Come, let go home,” Quaritch offers gently, waiting for your feet to move before following you.

You miss the heat of his hand on your shoulder, but as you walk in silence, passing villagers that stare at you weirdly, you take a deep breath to collect yourself. You need to clear the air between you if you are to share Spider - if Quaritch is to grow. He will need somewhere safe to retreat to, somewhere where he won’t be judged for who he is.

“Are you hunger?” Quaritch asks once you’ve both stepped into your kelku, his voice gentle as he reaches out a hand with two food wraps in it.

“Are you hungry?” You correct him as you wrap your smaller hands around his outstretched one, bending his fingers over the food wraps.

“Are you hungry?” He parrots perfectly, his eyebrows creating a soft arch on his face.

“Did you get these for me?” You find yourself asking, looking into his eyes as you try to read all the emotions dancing in the sharp depths.

“What I say, I was anger. I did not mean it,” He offers softly, his ears drooping back to the side as his tail twitches anxiously.

“I didn’t mean what I said. It was cruel,” You whisper back, your eyes brimming with fresh tears again. You were tired of this emotional turmoil, you wanted some semblance of stability back into your life - like before.

“I am embarras when Sully walk in on us. I do not understand this - this things,” He tries gently, but the honesty and trust he offers you with the admission are enough for the first of many tears to fall.

“No, no, sweetness. Please,” Quaritch breaks, letting the food wraps drop from his hands when he reaches for your face, cupping it as he thumbs the tears away.

“I don’t know how to say everything I need to say in Na’vi yet, but just know that I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t mean any of it, okay?” He continues, the desperation in his voice so obvious now, “You are Spider’s mother and there is absolutely no doubt about that, sweetness,”

“You are Spider’s father,” You chuckle through your tears, noticing how the admission makes Quaritch freeze before he huffs and shakes his head.

“Fucking hell, woman,” And then you’re wrapped in a hug so tight it should have been uncomfortable, but is anything but.

In the comfort of his arms, you eventually find yourself sitting in his lap as you’ve lowered to the ground. The food wrap has long since grown cold when he reaches for one, but it doesn’t stop him from trying to feed you. You, of course, greedily accept, wrapping your lips around his fingers as he feeds you. The food is fatty and delicious when it hits your tongue, making you hum with pleasure as you close your lips. He feeds you like this until you’re full, only taking a few tastes for himself. He makes quick work of the rest, all but swallowing the food in his haste to finish up.

When darkness finally settles over Pandora, you find yourself nestled by his side after having invited him into your nest once more. You lay there in silence, just listening to each other breathe as you fiddle with the beads of his songcord. Reaching over to grab his arm, you gently unfold his tight fist before tracing the skin of his palm, smiling gently up at him as he hums contently. His sharp eyes are following your every move, but still, Quaritch looks comfortable, soft even. Placing the bead in his palm, you gently close his long fingers over it.

“What is it?” Quaritch hums softly, quickly breaking eye contact to look at the songcord. Immediately, you see recognition in his eyes.

“All Na’vi have songcords,” You whisper, starting gently. “IT is gifted to you by your parents when you are born and they build upon it until you are old enough to add your own,”

“Do Spider have one?” Quaritch asks and something inside your chest blooms with warmth.

“Yes, when he came into my life, I immediately gifted it to him, even though he was not yet mine,” You smile at the fond memory.

“Do you have it?” He continues, digging deeper.

“I do,” You say as you reach down to remove your songcord, slowly presenting it to him.

“It is long,” He comments before looking down at his own.

“When you -” You start, but stop again as you place your songcord in his hand before intertwining your fingers with his, “When I thought you had died, I made this for you in hopes that Eywa would greet you, that she would finally give you peace,”

“This blue one belong to you,” Quaritch comments, rolling the blue bead between his thumb and pointer finger on top of your hand.

Surprised, you gasp softly, drawing his eyes up to yours for a moment before he looks down at the bead again. He doesn’t need you to confirm it to be the truth. You had never thought that he would recognize a single bead on you, yet, here he was, proving you wrong once again. Squeezing his hand harder, he lifts his eyes to look at you again.

“I will recognize you blind,” He whispers, his voice rough despite the gentleness of the words spoken.

“Is this why you cut hair?” Quaritch asks, surprising you once more.

His sharp eyes look straight through you, so you only nod as his other hand slowly raises to the back of your head where you cut it. His deft fingers graze past each cut, dangerously close to your kuru. Closing your eyes, you let out a shaky breath as he finishes. Opening them you find a conflicted look in his eyes as he no doubt connects the dots. Suddenly you’re pulled tightly to his chest, his arm wrapping around you to hold you close. Still, your hands are intertwined between you, your songcords as intertwined as you are. Like this, every worry bouncing around in your head disappears. In his arms, you can breathe freely once more, can feel your heart slowing for the first time in what feels like forever.

You have no idea when you fall asleep in his arms, have no idea when Spider gets home or when he burrows in behind you, wrapping your blankets around all of you. All you know is that when you wake up, you’re plastered to Quaritch’s side, his slow and steady heartbeat beating beneath your ear as your son stares at you from where he’s eating breakfast.

“Really?” Spider chuckles, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Hey, be nice to your mother,” Quaritch rumbles, the vibration from his rough voice sending shivers down your spine as you realize that he’s awake.

Spider just throws his hands up in that sky people gesture and grins. Slowly, you unwrap yourself from Quaritch’s body, immediately missing his heat. Opening his hand, he stares down at your songcords before meeting your eyes again. Spider joins you moments later, chatting eagerly about how cool it was that Quaritch had his own songcord before presenting his own. They were almost the same length.

“Your mama make it for me,” Quaritch hums as he lets Spider hold it to inspect the beads.

“What are your milestones?” Spider asks and immediately, Quaritch looks up at you.

“Each bead is a memory, a milestone to celebrate. They remind you of what you have achieved, of who your family is and who holds you dear,” You offer him, smiling gently.

“Can I hear it?” Spider asks, looking up at his father.

“Hey, I want to hearing too,” Quaritch smirks down at him before staring at you when Spider does.

“Alright,” You smile at the double set of equally pitiful eyes, “But the songcord is private, for you and your loved ones ears only. I guess you need to learn what I have added to decide if you want them though,”

And that is how you find yourself singing Quaritch’s songcord for them, both sets of eyes staring intently at you while you sing. Quaritch’s ears droop as he listens to your words, concentrating on the memories he himself has of the events you sing about. When you finish, you close your eyes, afraid to look at Quaritch. You’re not surprised, however, when fingers gently lift your chin up and when you open your eyes, Quaritch’s deep depths greet yours.

“You singing a song like this for Spider in Bridehead,” He whispers, gently cupping your face and you nod slowly, rubbing your face into his palm.

“You give him a beautiful life,” He hums, complimenting you on what a good mother he thought you had been to Spider.

“Thank you,” You whisper back, momentarily forgetting about the teenager sitting there with you until he groans.

“Get a room,” Spider rolls his eyes as he takes his songcord ang gets up to his feet, preparing to leave.

Just then, there’s a knock on the outside of your kelku, and short moments later, Jake steps inside, quickly followed by Tonowari. Exchanging greetings after getting to your feet, you notice the smirk on Jake’s face as he looks at the nest behind you, no doubt noticing how Quaritch’s makeshift nest was still rolled up in the corner, unused.

“I have come to offer you your own kelku,” Tonowari addresses Quaritch slowly, making sure that he understands every word before continuing, “You are becoming Na’vi, learning the way of the people. As an unmated male, you must have your own kelku unless you wish to stay here,”

You understand the words he’s saying and by the way Quaritch looked at you, ears bending flat against his head, his tail wrapping around his leg as he waited, you knew that he had understood everything too.

“It is your choice,” You offer diplomatically, holding your breath as your own ears bent down against your skull.

“I wants to stay,” Quaritch hums gently, unlike his usually brash self.

“You are sure?” Tonowari asks again, just to make sure.

“Yeah,” He offers back before looking to the side at Spider and you, “Please, Olo’eyktan,”

“Then I will let another male have the kelku,” Tonowari hums, not looking surprised at all, and neither did Jake.

That night, all of you ate in the comfort of your kelku, having fun together as a family for what seemed like the first time. And as the days progressed to weeks, life seemed to get back to normal once more. Quaritch was out to work whenever he had a free moment, but he pulled his weight, even joined Jake and Tonowari to some neighboring villages to help get materials to rebuild what was destroyed by fire. When he had arrived back home, he had been exhausted, Jake letting you know to let him rest the following day. Quaritch’s Na’vi was getting really good too, he didn’t stumble as much, didn’t mispronounce or over-pronounce the words like he used to.

Quaritch was fully embracing the Na’vi way in a way he hadn’t been able to before. Still, you hesitated to let him get close enough to hurt you, his betrayal fresh in your heart. Although you wish for nothing more than to accept him fully, you’re not ready to forgive just yet. By the look of Quaritch, he doesn’t mind as he’s learning to know his son on a deeper level, resting a bond you knew Spider had always longed for. In the evenings, you would all sleep in your nest, wrapped up in each other as Quaritch’s makeshift nest lay all but forgotten in the corner of your kelku. It’s early morning when your sleep is disturbed by boyish laughter from outside. Quaritch groans deep in his chest, the sound vibrating where your head is resting on his chest, and sure enough, moments later, Jake and Tonowari step inside your kelku, the two of them wearing matching grins as they zero in on Quaritch.

“It’s time, Quaritch…”

Chapter 18 | Masterpost | Chapter 20

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hoonfication · 1 year

Text

. . . TWO TIMES A CH✶RM

━━━ 「 im sorry 」

📍Cornelia Park | 8:20 PM

There he was, sitting on one of the benches, waiting for you. Your heart was beating fast, and you wanted to run away, but with a heavy heart, you approached him. “Albedo” you mumbled, but loud enough for him to hear. Standing up, he looked at you with delight. “[Name], hi” he greeted.

You both settled down beside each other on the bench. For a while, no one said a word. You wished it could have just stayed that way, but you found the courage to speak. “I have to tell you something” your voice trembled. “I have to tell you something too” he announced.

“Oh, well, you can go first” you said, still struggling to find the courage. “Oh, okay” he nodded, turning to look at you. “[Name], please look at me” Slowly, you looked at him, and he gently took your hands in his. “[Name]” he said in a soft voice,”I like you”

Your heart dropped. It wasn't supposed to go like this. “What?” you mumbled. “I like you” he repeated again, giving you a smile. You pulled your hands away from him, and he looked at you, confused, his smile gone. “[Name], what’s going on?” he asked, still confused about why you pulled away.

“Albedo, it wasn’t supposed to be like this” you blurted. “What are you talking about?” he asked, confused. “[Name], talk to me. What’s going on?” he gently asked again, holding your hands.

“I don’t see you like that” you mumbled. You thought he didn’t hear you, but when his hands dropped yours, you knew that he did.

When he didn’t say anything, you took this as an opportunity to go on. “I’m sorry, I should’ve-“ he suddenly interrupted you. He paused and turned to look at you briefly, his expression a mix of sadness and surprise. “I'm sorry, but I need some time alone” he said quietly and began walking away.

You stood there, feeling a wave of regret and longing. “Albedo, please wait!” you shouted, your voice filled with desperation. But he kept walking, his steps gradually fading.

— ✶ prev | m.list | next

NOTES | died while writing this

# IN WHICH — xiao, your boyfriend for three years suddenly breaks up with you through text and then leaves the country leaving you with no explanation at all three years had passed and here you are, you tell yourself you're over him and you're way more happy without him until you've heard that he's back oh that's fine you guys aren't even gonna see each other anyway wrong. seems like he's going to attend the same college as you and well you're just in luck turns out he's also your roommate

# TAGLIST — @thefandomcrow @sakiimeo @swivy123 @zappybatz @motherscrustytoenailclippings @chsyug @erisan01 @lylovw @scarletttcroww @retiredmommylover @sukunasrealgf @onmywaytoteyvat @mjtalksaboutanything @chronicfic @otomegame-oneshots @yukisluv @urdads @yuminako @etaerealboy @xxblackroses623xx @starringyau @dexocore @grvngexiao @tamikahoshiko @xoyumiqls @mechanicalbeat1 @ixromzi @lemo-nadde @moon-z0ne @articmaskeddemon @luvrzan @cayl33n

#genshin impact #genshin smau #xiao x gn reader #genshin xiao #genshin impact xiao #xiao x you #xiao x reader #xiao x y/n #xiao #xiao smau #xiao x gender neutral reader

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rosethornewrites · 16 days

Text

Fic: the thread may stretch or tangle but it will never break, ch. 25-6

Additional Tags: Pre-Slash, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Secrets, Crying, Masks, Soulmates, Truth, Self-Esteem Issues, Regret, It was supposed to be a one-shot, Fix-It, Eventual Relationships, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, wwx needs a hug, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Filial Piety, Handfasting, Phobias, Sleeping Together, Fear, Panic Attacks, Love Confessions, Getting Together, First Kiss, Kissing, Boys Kissing, Family, and they were married, Bathing/Washing, Hair Braiding, Hair Brushing, Feels, Sex Education, Implied Sexual Content, First Time, Aftercare, Morning After, Afterglow, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Torture, Scars, Eventual Happy Ending, Hand Jobs, Chronic Pain, Biting, Conversations, Self-Sacrifice, POV Third Person, POV Lan WangJi, Bugs & Insects, Adoption, Ancestors, Ancestor Veneration, Golden Core Reveal, Top Lan Wangji | Lan Zhan/Bottom Wei Wuxian | Wei Ying, First Time Blow Jobs, Multiple Orgasms, Switching, sex-related injury, Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī Stays at the Burial Mounds, Lán Yuàn | Lán Sīzhuī is a Wèi, Good Sibling Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín, Dissociation, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Disability, Scheming Niè Huáisāng, Disabled Character, somnophilia

Summaries: The swearing of brotherhood and other fluff. Their guests leave, and they get started on the next phase of the plan.

Notes: See end of each chapter

AO3 links: 25 | 26

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24

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

While his husband and son sleep, Lan Wangji tidies the alcove, putting anything unnecessary into a qiankun pouch for storage. While true cleaning would be more involved, with walls and ceiling stone and the floor dirt-covered stone it is impractical at best. He then settles with another bundle of Wei Ying’s notes, deciphering the messy tangles of thought in rather the same way he tidies Wei Ying’s oft-tangled hair.

He knows Wei Qing expects that he stay close to support Wei Ying, and he’s rather relieved to have an excuse not to need to be present as Jin Zixuan is shown the evidence of his sect’s crimes, as well as the reasons Wei Ying wields resentful energy. Jiang Yanli’s husband is an honorable man, and will no doubt respond favorably, but he doesn’t want to see pity for Wei Ying, or have it directed somehow at him, as though his marriage and Wei Ying himself are somehow lesser for his husband’s suffering. It may well be different; he was stationed elsewhere during the war and thus has little personal knowledge of the Jin heir, but he well remembers the many slights against Wei Ying by ranking members of the Jin sect.

Lan Wangji knows the reactions—the way people look at him differently and Wei Ying’s own swirled mess of emotions about the decision to give Jiang Wanyin his core, is likely why his husband kept it secret. He can’t regret urging him to tell his brother, though, not with Wei Ying looking physically healthier than he has the entire time he’s been here, and that transformation in part because of it, but he wishes others would see Wei Ying for the wonder, the genius he is.

Wei Ying is the first to stir, snuffling a bit in his sleep, and Lan Wangji waits quietly for him to fully wake. When he does, his eyes search the alcove before settling on him, and Lan Wangji is pleased that his husband relaxes upon seeing him.

“You’re probably the only person who could decipher my terrible calligraphy,” Wei Ying says after a moment, his voice fond. “Even me—I think I’ve finished more of my projects because you rewrite my notes!”

While Wei Ying is correct, Lan Wangji knows he is distracting himself from A-Yuan from the way he glances at the boy, as though afraid they might wake him, and afraid that he’ll still be terrified when he wakes. In truth, he is as well, and he’s not certain they have the ability to help their son, short of simply being with him and helping him feel safe. Wei Qing, being a healer, may have more expertise to share later.

“You no longer fail to sleep and forget to eat. You needed balance,” Lan Wangji responds, allowing the distraction for the moment, “and I am happy to help my husband in any way.”

Wei Ying blushes, and he realizes his husband has caught on to his ploy of tiring him with sex to ensure he sleeps.

He is very happy to help him with that, to be fair, even if it wasn’t what he meant this time.

“You bully,” he murmurs, his face flushed fetchingly and what Lan Wangji hears is ‘I love you.’

He can see there are things Wei Ying can never bring himself to say, too affected by sentiment, but he knows anyway. Lan Wangji knows his husband likes to be cared for, that for him physical acts of affection are important, though the words are too much. He knows Wei Ying also likes to show love in this way, giving him what trinkets he can make himself, such as the carved bunny guan, but also with the nontraditional dowry of his talisman inventions, wanting him to feel his worth equivalent to Xiongzhang’s gift of money.

When Wei Ying beckons, Lan Wangji is happy to set aside the work he has done and join him and their son, aware that A-Yuan will likely be fragile when he wakes, that their presence may help him feel safe. Neither of them know how the boy will react, given his earlier terrified meltdown, or whether he can handle the sight of Jin Zixuan even without the zhushazhi.

In truth, Wei Ying also likely needs him, already frazzled as he was with being bared as he was, not only to those visiting the Burial Mounds, but also to all of the jianghu through the yuefu.

Lan Wangji can offer little more than his presence to his husband and son, and hopefully that is enough.

A-Yuan murmurs unintelligibly when Lan Wangji joins them, sandwiching him between them, his sleep momentarily disturbed by the movement, but he doesn’t stir immediately. While they wait, Wei Ying leans his head against his husband’s chest and whisper-babbles about new ideas for inventions, distracting himself as best he can, and Lan Wangji is happy to listen.

Eventually their son wakes, letting out a sound of protest at leaving slumber and burrowing adorably into the area between them. He flails as he wakes enough to remember the circumstances under which he fell asleep, crying about the bad man.

“I’m here, Baobei, you’re safe, I promise,” Wei Ying murmurs, stroking his hair comfortingly. “And your baba won’t let anything happen either. That’s Guma’s husband, remember, the good one I told you about?”

The look A-Yuan gives them is full of doubt, and then he scrambles toward the end of the bed.

“Guma and Popo and Gugu and Bobo—” he rambles, clearly afraid for their safety before pitching off the bed, kept from hitting the hard floor only by Lan Wangji’s quick reflexes.

“Bobo will protect them, and Qing-jie has needles,” Wei Ying tells him, not able to help an involuntary shudder. “No one can beat her and her needles, and I pity the fool who tries.”

A-Yuan still looks uncertain, and Lan Wangji lifts him into his arms.

“We will join everyone shortly, after we straighten your clothing and hair, and you will see they are safe, A-Yuan,” he says, keeping his tone calm and measured.

The boy considers that before nodding—he still looks worried, but he allows them to tidy his hair and put him in new robes, these more formal than the disciple robes, more ornate in a way that seems appropriate for the sworn siblinghood that will hopefully occur.

“He listens to you more than me!” Wei Ying exclaims, looking oddly delighted.

Wei Ying nearly leaves the alcove in his underrobes, stopped only by Lan Wangji, and they find his prior robes marred by snot from A-Yuan’s earlier meltdown. His husband points out he is also similarly afflicted, and they both change, Lan Wangji donning a soft blue robe from the qiankun pouch Xiongzhang brought, while Wei Ying selects another robe Jiang Wanyin sent from his wardrobe, a black robe with purple accents that make it appear as though it shimmers in the dim light of the cave. They tidy each other’s hair, Lan Wangji gently combing Wei Ying’s to some semblance of smooth after his nap, A-Yuan helpfully pointing out places it’s mussed. Wei Ying sighs when he straightens his crown, and Lan Wangji recognizes that this is a day where the hair sits heavy on his head and he would be more comfortable in a braid.

“I will braid your hair tonight,” he murmurs, and Wei Ying pulls him close to share a kiss.

When they rejoin the others in the main hall, they find them all waiting, the positive atmosphere implying Jin Zixuan’s answer, and Lan Wangji lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. The swearing of siblinghood will take place shortly, offering Wei Ying and the people here more protection.

A-Yuan hides behind them, peering out at Jin Zixuan suspiciously, and it’s clear the man can tell the boy is still frightened of him and is unsure of what to do; were they in Yiling market, he could do as Lan Wangji had and buy him toys, but the Burial Mounds don’t offer such luxuries. He would recommend such a recourse, and has no doubt Jin Zixuan will send many toys for A-Yuan if he thinks it would help.

Jin Zixuan generally looks overwhelmed, and he’s not quite able to look at Wei Ying, which is preferable to looking at him with pity—his husband does not regret giving Jiang Wanyin his jindan, but he doesn’t like to be seen as piteous, even as he suffers still.

Nie Huaisang takes it upon himself to greet A-Yuan and give him another fan, distracting him by telling him about the motif, and then he manages to coax the boy to sit near him and his brother, who immediately sets the boy on his lap.

“Wei-xiong, Wei-xiong, your shijie brought her whole wedding banquet for later!” the Nie heir exclaims once A-Yuan is settled, ever the one for distraction.

Jiang Yanli giggles at Wei Ying’s incredulous expression.

“It’s not the banquet itself, but I cooked the same dishes for all of you so you can celebrate with A-Xuan and me. It just wasn’t right without my Xianxian.”

Though nothing can make up for missing the wedding, Lan Wangji can see how overcome his husband is by her attempt to bring the wedding feast here to the Burial Mounds.

Jiang Yanli comes to Wei Ying and hugs him, tweaking his nose in a way that makes him laugh.

“Let’s do the ceremony, and then you must call me Jiejie,” she says. “Wei Qing will be Dajie.”

Wei Qing nods in acknowledgement, clearly trying not to smile at their interaction and failing, then tweaks her own brother’s nose almost experimentally, laughing as he blinks, startled.

“It will be a chore to look after our collective didimen,” she says in a voice of exaggerated long-suffering, and Jiang Yanli giggles.

“And yet a fulfilling one,” she adds with a smile, her eyes twinkling even in the dim light. “This meimei will seek to learn from her jiejie.”

Wei Qing can’t hold back a chuckle, looking surprised at herself, to the amusement of Wei Ying.

“Wangji’s sworn siblings are, of course, mine as well,” Xiongzhang announces.

To Lan Wangji’s surprise and relief, Nie Mingjue agrees.

“A-Sang’s as well. You may call me Dage.”

“And me, Erge. We cannot speak for A-Yao on the matter...”

An uncomfortable silence falls, the reminder that Jin Guangyao may be complicit in the treatment of the former Wen. Jin Zixuan looks particularly unsettled, and Lan Wangji has the uncomfortable feeling he knows the identity of the smiling man that one of the remnants mentioned as having taken people who never returned. He hopes the man was doing the right thing, but he’s learned not to assume the best of people.

Nie Huaisang clears his throat and gestures to the decor, as though to remind them of the reason for their gathering. By this time, the new Wei clan has trickled in to serve as witnesses, tired from their day in the fields but also likely from reliving the trauma of the camps for Jin Zixuan, and there isn’t room for concern about Jin Guangyao.

While they no longer need the harvest, the idea of wasting the food is an anathema after going without for so long, and so they will cultivate this crop and discuss the future afterward. The radishes can be given to the needy in Yiling, if nothing else.

When Popo arrives, A-Yuan leaves the safety of Nie Mingjue’s lap to run to and cling to her, clearly still affected by his own reliving of trauma. She smiles sadly and sits down with the boy, letting him climb into her lap.

The ceremony is made elegant by the bunting and newly-hung lanterns, otherwise a simple swearing to the heavens and earth to honor and cherish each other as siblings, never to be rent asunder. As they bow, Lan Wangji is filled with relief that they have finally reached this moment, thankful for the protection it grants Wei Ying, the family it gives him.

Afterward Jin Zixuan approaches, his expression troubled. He seems very aware of A-Yuan’s eyes on him, staring from Popo’s lap as suspiciously as a toddler can manage.

“I will quietly seek records on the disposition of the other remnants, and look for ways to help. I hope A-Yao isn’t involved, but he likely feels a debt to our father, though he should have been taken in to begin with. I’ll do what I can to find out more.”

Wei Ying takes a breath before he responds, aware of how valuable that help will be.

“Just be careful. I don’t want Jiejie to become a widow. She… she needs you, too.”

Jin Zixuan nods, his expression making it clear he knows what sort of viper pit his sect is. Lan Wangji hopes he can navigate the murky waters successfully.

“A-Li and I have something to ask of you later, privately,” he says after a long pause, his eyes seeking his wife, who nods.

Wei Ying looks perplexed at what they might want, but he just nods, and Jin Zixuan takes it as a dismissal.

The conversation is awkward, but Jin Zixuan is earnest and so is Wei Ying, both wanting good outcomes. Given their past interactions, the stilted awkwardness is a welcome change compared to coming to blows.

Jiang Yanli enlists several people to help with bringing out the food, including a massive tureen of lotus root and pork rib soup that only Wei Ning is able to carry. The meal is a combination of the umami richness of Lanling cuisine with the spicy dishes of Yunmeng, and Lan Wangji can’t deny the aroma is mouthwatering. He can see from where he stands several dishes hued red that he knows to avoid, but is sure Wei Ying will enjoy, including re gan mian (hot dry noodles). Other dishes include shuijing zhouzi (stewed pork hock), whole Peking duck, and desserts like sweet doufunao (tofu brains) and basi pingguo (toffee apple fritters), among traditional wedding fare like cold jellyfish salad, roast suckling pork, whole steamed fish in soya gravy, peach sweet buns, and hot red bean soup with lotus seeds. Rather than serve the food in courses, Jiang Yanli has set the food out, the hot food on talisman-warmed platters, for people to serve themselves.

“Thank you for bearing witness. It’s been a difficult day for the Wei clan, and I believe they should eat first,” Jiang Yanli announces.

No one protests, and the refugees do so shyly, nervously, under the eyes of the gentry.

The swearing ceremony and the path to it has impacted them perhaps more than anyone but Wei Ying, Lan Wangji realizes. They’ve had to reveal their painful experiences, and they have gone from facing certain death, either from malnutrition or an eventual attack, to being tenuously protected via a sworn brotherhood with the sole man who sought to protect them, a home to be found at Lotus Pier in the near future, and full bellies. Given those selfsame sects involved in the brotherhood were complicit in their near-extermination, including himself, allowing them to eat first was the very least they could do.

He wonders if Jiang Yanli has also realized this or if she acts from instinctive kindness.

“Eat with Baba and A-Die,” A-Yuan insists, drawing Lan Wangji from his thoughts with a tug to his sleeve.

“She said Wei, and you’re still family,” Popo explains, taking Wei Ying’s arm before turning to Lan Wangji. “And you count, too—you married in.”

Lan Wangji can’t be certain whether he should be embarrassed as Xiongzhang fails to hold back a chuckle, but he’s oddly reminded of his mother’s gentle teasing and so he feels only a wave of fondness for his family, old and new, gathered here in a place of death that his husband carved life into.

Notes:

“To fail to sleep and forget to eat” is a chengyu about being focused on something to the exclusion of all else. Didimen is the plural of didi. Yes, there’s a reference to Mr. T. I’ve been referred to an outpatient long Covid unit, appointment in September because they’re packed all the way out. They’ll likely work to rule anything else out. But the timeline fits, so I might have an explanation, however unpleasant it may be. Today is my birthday. I’m 41 now. I had this done yesterday but decided to post it as a birthday gift to myself. In comments, please let me know what you like about this fic, if you don’t mind. Glossary: a-die - dad baba - dad baobei - baby bobo - father’s older brother dajie - eldest sister didimen - younger brothers gugu - aunt guma - father’s older sister jianghu - cultivation world jie/jiejie - older sister jindan - golden core meimei - younger sister popo - grandmother shijie - martial older sister xiong - brother xiongzhang - older brother yuefu - a style of poetry zhushazhi - cinnabar dot on the forehead

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

The banquet has long since wound down, having ended with the rest of Jifu’s fruit wine consumed, mellowing the atmosphere nicely. Most of the Wei clan have started cleaning up and readying for sleep. Dusk has fallen, and someone has lit the red lanterns near the living area, casting a soft glow on the Burial Mounds settlement. The air has a hint of chill in it and the smell of coming dew.

Nie Huaisang, when they left the great hall, was arguing that the bunting should be left up to lighten the atmosphere, and Wei Qing looked rather resigned to it—A-Yuan has fallen sound asleep on a piece of bunting, and so it was a losing argument; his timely exhaustion is the only reason they were able to leave without him panicking.

The five of them—Wei Ying, Jiang Yanli, Jin Zixuan, Jiang Wanyin, and Lan Wangji—gather in Jifu’s old hut for this conversation, where Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan will sleep, the only quarters available that don’t involve sleeping on the stone floor of the great hall with the other visitors.

As it turns out, Jiang Yanli, with support of Jin Zixuan and apparently by the suggestion of Jiang Wanyin, wants to request that Wei Ying name his coming wai sheng, an honor he’s clearly not expecting.

“I wanted to ask you when we last came to Yiling, but there wasn’t the opportunity,” she says, watching him with soft eyes.

Wei Ying rallies quickly and immediately identifies the Jin’s next generational name Ru. He considers, brushing at his nose with his forefinger as he does, taking the request seriously.

“How about Rulan?” he finally suggests, then hurries to clarify when Jiang Wanyin protests. “Not that lan, A-Cheng. Lan as in the gentleman of flowers, the orchid. After all, any son of Shi— ah, Jiejie’s is bound to be a refined young man.”

“Rulan,” Jiang Yanli says, tasting the name. “Jin Rulan. It’s perfect, A-Xian.”

“I agree,” Jin Zixuan adds. “It’s regal.”

“It’s okay, but of course you’d name him after your husband,” Jiang Wanyin grouses, ready to dodge when Wei Ying punches at his arm, blushing.

Jiang Yanli chides them gently and they take on the countenance of scolded children.

Wei Ying’s sister is clearly tired from travel and the banquet, and so they excuse themselves quickly to let her rest, assuring her that she needn’t help clean up from the banquet and swearing ceremonies, leaving her to the care of her husband.

By the time they return to the hall, Nie Huaisang has won the argument with Wei Qing, the bunting to stay at least until they’ve all moved to Lotus Pier. The Nie heir’s bedding is opulent, something Lan Wangji didn’t see the night before, and he can only again wonder about his spy ring, or if he may have corresponded with someone among the newly-renamed Wei or the people of Yiling somehow. Their other guests have largely made do with simple bedrolls, Xiongzhang’s the same as his own.

Jiang Wanyin breaks from them to speak with Wei Qing, and they help Popo move A-Yuan to her rooms for the night. He blessedly doesn’t stir. With the night winding down, their guests settled, nothing else is needed from them.

Lan Wangji steers Wei Ying toward the cave and their alcove, noting the signs he is exhausted—a fine tremor in his shoulder blades and drooping eyelids. It has again been an emotional day, one that had required his husband to engage with their guests and accept that others were taking control to help. Letting them take it, and what that help entails, has not been easy for Wei Ying.

He is unsurprised when Wei Ying falls asleep in the bath, the warmth seeping into him and making him drowse. Once he has soaked with the sachet, Lan Wangji lifts him from the tub and dresses him in a simple underrobe before tucking him in and joining him in the bed for a much-needed rest, hai shi upon them.

“Do you think this will work?” Wei Ying asks in a whisper, having stirred. “The poem, the brotherhood?”

Wei Ying sounds worried, and Lan Wangji pauses to consider.

“Mn. We have allies. All four sects, if you include Jin Zixuan.”

That receives an amused snort, then a more thoughtful noise.

“Jin Guangshan is going to be pissed… which could backfire if we’re not careful.”

Lan Wangji remembers the plan to ply Wei Qing’s trade and feed the street children, and has to admit that will be one way in which they are vulnerable. She will need protection away from the warded settlement, which will mean Wei Ying and Lan Wangji will spend their time in Yiling with her. A-Yuan as well, he suspects, as the boy is likely to become more clingy after his reaction to the zhushazhi. He cannot predict the future, but hopefully they can protect their own until they are safely in Lotus Pier.

“We will take care,” he assures his husband.

Wei Ying hums in response, already slipping back into sleep, hopefully reassured. Lan Wangji pulls him close, kissing him chastely and tucking him against his side.

Where Wei Ying was all angles when Lan Wangji first arrived, now he is softer, having gained precious weight, his bones no longer prominent. He is healthier, and Lan Wangji will do whatever is necessary to ensure he stays that way.

The next morning he wakes his husband in the best way possible, bringing him to completion with his mouth. Wei Ying returns the favor and makes a crass joke about breakfast, and Lan Wangji’s ears burn at the idea—far from finding it offensive; he finds it entirely too thought-provoking. They lie idly together for a period of time before joining the outside world, enjoying the peace of their alcove.

Their guests filter out a few hours apart after a breakfast comprised of actual rice congee, instead of the cheaper millet, and with leftover food from the banquet repurposed as toppings. They gather in the great hall afterward as their guests prepare to leave, their departures staggered to prevent suspicion.

Jiang Wanyin leaves first with two more refugees disguised as Jiang disciples. The uncle with the broken leg is one of them, as Wei Qing hopes being away from the Burial Mounds will hasten his recovery from the necessary rebreaking. The other is the woman with the peony branded on her shoulder.

The Nie leave without much fanfare, though Nie Huaisang promises tearfully that he’ll get the yuefu out as soon as possible.

“You deserve a better reputation, Wuxian-xiong,” he says, clapping his arm companionably.

They’ve decided to refer to each other not with titles, but with the honorifics xiong to refer to an older brother and di to refer to the younger, with Wei Ning being Ning-di to everyone and Jin Zixuan being Zixuan-xiong to everyone except Wei Qing and Jiang Yanli.

Lan Wangji fully intends to continue calling his husband Wei Ying, while Wei Ying will undoubtedly still call him Lan Zhan or Lan-er-gege. Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan will continue referring to each other as A-Xuan and A-Li. Jiang Yanli also intends to keep calling her brothers A-Xian and A-Cheng. Meanwhile, Wei Qing and Jiang Yanli are Qing-jie and Yanli-jie to most of them, with Wei Qing using Yanli-mei.

Likely it would be simpler to use dage, erge, etc., but those are already being used by the Venerated Triad, and they know the Auspicious Eight needs to be distinct.

Being called Wangji-xiong or Wangji-di will take a little getting used to, but it isn’t a complex system.

“You have the support of the Nie, Wei Wuxian,” Nie Mingjue states, and Wei Ying bows gratefully.

Xiongzhang leaves with the promise to schedule night hunts to the Burial Mounds with the Nie and the delivery of supplies.

Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli are the last to depart.

A-Yuan has spent the morning eying Jin Zixuan distrustfully, as though waiting for the zhushazhi to reappear. They are all at a loss for how to remedy the situation.

Eventually, as they near the entrance to the Burial Mounds, the Jin heir removes the tassel from Suihua and holds it out to A-Yuan, stoking his curiosity enough that he takes it and then retreats to hide behind Wei Ying’s leg before examining it.

“Soon your guma will have a baby,” Jin Zixuan tells the boy. “He’ll be your tangdi. Can I trust you to keep that safe for him until he is born?”

The idea of more family seems to help, and A-Yuan nods after only a little hesitation.

“For Tangdi and Guma,” he says, shaking the tassel and watching it sparkle in the sun.

Lan Wangji has to admit it’s a brilliant strategy, giving A-Yuan a job and the promise of a cousin, along with the bauble itself. Wei Ying helps the boy attach the tassel to his belt next to his clarity bell, and the boy continues to play with it.

“Thank you for taking care of that for your guzhang and tangdi,” Jiang Yanli says to him, bending before the boy. “His name will be Jin Ling, courtesy name Rulan, and he’ll be happy to have you as his biaoge, A-Yuan.”

A-Yuan hugs her when prompted, then clings to Wei Ying’s leg as they watch the two step into the carriage and the carriage fade into the distance.

By the time they return to the settlement, lunch has been prepared, with Wei Ning having repurposed more leftovers into an array of xian bing, baozi, and zongzi. A-Yuan is less interested in the food than the tassel at his waist, but they manage to get him to eat with Popo’s help.

The day passes quickly, Wei Ying falling asleep to musical acupuncture treatment and napping with A-Yuan, both of them exhausted. A-Yuan in particular is fussy before he sleeps, eventually falling asleep with his fingers in his mouth, which Lan Wangji remedies afterward.

“Do you think becoming ba xiongdi will work?” Wei Qing asks, unknowingly echoing Wei Ying.

“Those who have sworn brotherhood are likely to honor it,” Lan Wangji says, “but the reaction of Lanling Jin is unpredictable.”

Wei Qing nods, her brow furrowed as she watches A-Yuan and Wei Ying sleep.

“We will need to begin fulfilling the yuefu,” he tells her, and she nods. “Wei Ying will need to grow lotuses.”

She snorts.

“He’ll manage. I’ll need to put together supplies for a clinic in town.”

“And you will need protection while you do,” Lan Wangji points out, and her lips twist in distaste.

“You and Wei Wuxian will need to adopt the street kids anyway, so I’m sure you’ll be in town with me when I go,” she says with a sigh, heading for her medical alcove. “Hopefully the Jin don’t act against us, but we’ll keep aware.”

It takes several days to prepare and make plans. They decide on baozi for the street kids, something that doesn’t require dishes, unlike Wei Ying’s idea of soup. He had to concede that the need for dishes limited them, but argued successfully for sweet zongzi in addition to the baozi, on the grounds that they would be a nice treat.

Wei Qing was hopeful she could examine the kids as they came to treat any injuries or maladies, but the first order of business was finding and leasing an appropriate stall.

Fortunately, when it is made clear she intends to treat and feed people for free, space is made in a small booth for a very small price by the Yiling magistrate. He is thrilled to have the famous doctor back in Yiling, as she previously treated patients for free if they braved the Wen sect to reach her. He even tries to offer the former supervisory office, which is a better place for them than the Burial Mounds, but it has no defenses and they regretfully decline.

If they can convince Jiang Wanyin—Wanyin-di if he had to in polite company, though fortunately it would have the benefit of irking the other man—to provide disciples for defense, they may revisit that, but it’s likely better to simply retreat slowly to Lotus Pier.

Wei Ying does not prove easy to wake early to go to Yiling, and Lan Wangji resorts to waking him carnally, which is quite effective. It takes little time to clean up.

Lan Wangji dons the blue robes he arrived in, and Wei Ying wears a black robe that shimmers purple in the sun. They debated wearing more nondescript robes, but decided on more opulent ones since they weren’t sneaking around or trying to hide their identities. Wei Qing is wearing a dress in Jiang blue and the comb Jiang Wanyin gave her is in her bun. Wei Ning is wearing the nicer robes Nie Huaisang gave him—they intend to get him another nice set or two in town—and aside from his pallor and black veins he looks as though he could be alive, his hair properly in its crown.

The preparation of food took place the evening before by Wei Ning and several aunties and uncles, who are happy with the prospect of helping children, even as they also need help. With the help of a qiankun pouch, they’re ready to be cooked up later. Wei Qing also enlisted the help of the aunties and uncles making several medicines she knew would be requested, with ingredients tucked away for medicines that could hopefully be made on-site. They even have a hand painted sign with both the character for doctor and the yin/yang symbol so those who cannot read will know the booth has a doctor.

They don’t like the idea of leaving the Burial Mounds unprotected, but Wei Ying has spent the last few days adding wards and maze arrays, as well as a talisman to alert him if the wards go down so they can rush back, and so it is as safe as it can be. Hopefully the Jin are too busy choking on their own opulence to notice.

A-Yuan insists on coming, refusing to let his fathers go away without him. Lan Wangji can see it is a losing battle, as the boy seemed primed to throw a temper tantrum at the idea. Wei Ying also seems to recognize that, and given his reaction to Jin Zixuan, it seems prudent to assuage him.

“He needs reassurance and will reassure the people of Yiling,” Wei Qing says with a shrug when they tell her. “They all know who I am, and whose company I keep. Time to rehabilitate your image, and if A-Yuan can help, so be it.”

They take him back to the cave to change him into nicer robes, and then start the trip to Yiling.

Wei Ying and A-Yuan ride in the cart pushed by Wei Ning on the way, as part of the plan for the day is to purchase some items needed to make the rest of their stay in Burial Mounds more comfortable, now that they can afford them, including talisman paper for Wei Ying, ingredients and supplies for medicines, cooking utensils, and other sundries.

“I want to cook… to cook a wider variety of food,” he said when the list was compiled, arguing for cooking utensils, and Wei Qing wrote it down immediately.

Lan Wangji agrees with her decision, and not only because it will expand their diets, something that will benefit Wei Ying. Wei Ning enjoys cooking and he deserves the enjoyment. He feels no small manner of gratitude to the man for all he does around the settlement and how he has helped Wei Ying, and he is happy to be his sworn brother.

When they arrive at the booth, almost a hut with no walls, a small throng of people are already waiting, word of mouth having already spread, and the croud breaks into murmurs. Bits of rumor, wondering which is the Yiling Patriarch, the Ghost General, who is the child? Wei Ying doesn’t react to their curious gazes, ignoring them.

Wei Qing gets to work treating the patients, introducing herself as Wei Qing, to ensure it is known she is no longer Wen. Wei Ning sets up the sign and starts a fire in the little hearth to get the food cooking. Wei Ying and Lan Wangji attend to the list, but keep the booth in view in case of problems, cautious. A-Yuan comes with them, holding their hands securely even when they come to a toy stand, clingy even as they get him several toys, whether because of the aftermath of Jin Zixuan or because he picks up on their worry.

They manage to find at least some of their purchases within view of the booth, but the rest will wait until afterward now that A-Yuan has toys to distract him the rest of the day.

Only past the shichen of the snake, when they eat some of the baozi and zongzi themselves, does the first likely street kid show up, which makes a morbid amount of sense.

“We’re new, and every street kid has heard of the stranger with poisoned food,” Wei Ying explains softly, and a chill runs through Lan Wangji at the idea of that being a risk, one his husband has faced.

The child thanks Wei Ning solemnly and keeps close to the booth while he eats, watching warily around, then disappears once the food is eaten, not even thinking to ask for more. Wei Ying watches the space the boy was in with a sad expression, and Lan Wangji takes his hand to bring him back to the present.

“It will take time, but we will wait,” he says, and is given a breathtaking smile in return, full of love and appreciation and gratitude. Of hope and happiness.

There is not much Lan Wangji won’t do to protect that smile, one not long ago he feared he’d lost.

Notes:

After I posted the last chapter, I wound up in the hospital the next day with pancreatitis caused by my gallbladder. I was admitted and had my gallbladder removed. Went home, the incision got infected, wound up back in the hospital. Never got to celebrate my birthday and spent a large portion of June in the hospital. I’m completely healed now, though! No, Wei Ning isn’t xiao didi, as that’s slang for penis. This is why they decided not to do the titles. According to my research, the yin/yang was a symbol of medicine because it was about balance and good health is about achieving various balances in traditional Chinese medicine. The shichen of the snake is the 9-11 shichen, so past that would be the shichen of the horse, as each shichen is associated with the animals of the zodiac. baozi = stuffed buns ba xiongdi = sworn brothers biaoge = cousin (mom’s brother’s son, elder) hai shi = 9-11pm guma = father’s older sister guzhang = father’s sister’s husband jiejie = older sister jifu = fourth uncle (季父) mei = little sister popo = grandmother shichen = 2 hour period tangdi = cousin (dad’s sister’s son, younger) wai sheng = sister’s son xian bing = stuffed pancakes xiong = older brother zhushazhi = the cinnabar mark on the Jins’ foreheads zongzi = sticky rice dumplings

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whenwewereyoung97 · 10 months

Text

Iron Flame spoilers (up to Ch. 20)

In the years after my father died, I forgot what it felt like to be loved. Then I entered the quadrant and became the monster everyone needed me to be, and I never regretted it. But then you gave those words to me, and I remembered…and nearly lost you, too. I’m striving to be better for you just like I promised, but I need you to know that monster is still there, screaming to use every ruthless part of me to get your words back. —Recovered Correspondence of Lieutenant Xaden Riorson to Cadet Violet Sorrengail

The way this man has me in a fucking chokehold.

Also, I need the rest of the letters he wrote. Like yesterday.

#fourth wing #iron flame #rebecca yarros #violet sorrengail #xaden riorson #iron flame spoilers

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sandiavolo · 5 months

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Can you tell us how many arts were created for your story? They are beautiful and I can't wait to see more of them!

Great question!

As of now, in an album that I'm always staring at for my daily dose of dopamine, I have 20 stunning artworks ready and waiting, all of them by the great @anka-partizanka-from-pandora, although only 3 of them have been released so far (Ch. 9). Here's a quick teaser of what they include🤗:

Little Trr'ong with his Spirit Mother (I've seen the term of a 'spirit-family member' being thrown around a couple times, and I really loved the idea)

Trr'ong with both his Spirit Siblings

An amazing cover art for 'the boy in gray'

A cute little comic with Trr'ong's family, ft. one well-known Metka'yina 🐟

A certain 'someone' being head over heels for another certain 'someone' 💙❤️😉

And two stand-alone depictions of Trr'ong's Spirit Sister and Brother, one of which will be featured in the next chapter! Maybe both, I'm still undecided

The only reason I'm holding off on releasing them is b/c I'm trying to set the stage for the Ash Na'vi, especially Trr'ong's family, cause that's the main focus of the art pieces. I don't want to just throw them out there, at least not haphazardly.

But I'm gonna be completely honest, every single day I am gifted with a new heavenly photo is another day I regret not sharing their work with the world. These photos need to be talked about guys, even more than my story in general. That is how good they are. So honestly, I might just go "f**k it" and drop a random artwork here and there, even without context. I cannot keep all these gifts to myself. @anka-partizanka-from-pandora deserves all the credit for what is to come from the art department of ATACPO, I cannot say it enough. Pls pls pls, I'm begging you, visit their Tumblr and give them some love and appreciation everyone! No matter how long this story goes on for, this artist and their work should never be forgotten for what they have accomplished.

Thank you so much for the ask! Have a wonderful day, and I will see you in the next part of 'As the Ash Cloud Passes Over' 🔥

#avatar #miles spider socorro #avatar spider #ash na'vi #miles socorro #fanart

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thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos · 2 months

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ERHIT CH 12 EXCERPT

THE FROSTING SCENE Bayverse Leo x Rose (my OC)

(yes I'm just now realizing the accidental Titanic ref)

This is the tooth-rottingest, fluffiest thing I've ever written and I just need y'all to see it. Warning: it gets...mildly spicy at the end. Like enchilada sauce spicy

turts and oc are late 20s

MINORS DNI 18+

read the full chapter here or ao3

===================================

He shrugged at her and pulled them both over to the counter where his brother’s cinnamon rolls were cooling on the counter.

“Well, knowing Raph, he’s probably too grumpy to eat them now. And,” he continued, giving Rose a mischievous smile. “They smell way too good to let them go to waste.”

She sighed. “You’re obnoxious, you know that?”

He let her go from his embrace to walk around the other side of the island counter, smirk still painted on his lips. “You love it.”

He opened the fridge, hunting for something, and Rose rolled her eyes at Leo and mumbled under her breath as she sat down on the bar stool.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Leo pulled out a can of cream cheese frosting from the fridge and grabbed a knife from the drawer, starting the arduous task of icing the rolls. He blushed a little as he smiled and scraped frosting onto the bread, and after a moment, raised the goo-covered knife at her with a cocky grin plastered on his face.

“What was that?”

Rose felt the heat crawl across her skin. “Oh, nothing,” she hummed back.

He wiped the excess frosting from the knife onto his finger, slowly moving around the island to where she sat perched on the stool.

“Leo, what are you doing-”

“You’re sure it was nothing?”

She put her hands up as she slid off the stool and backed away from the hulking turtle in front of her. “Leo, don’t you dare-” she laughed, eyes darting and looking for an escape route.

“I’m not doing anything.”

He smirked at her, looking at the frosting on his fingers for a moment before making a sudden move forward without warning, swiping a smear across her cheek.

Rose gasped, hand flying to her face. “Leo!” she laughed, wiping the frosting off with a finger. “You did not just do that.”

Leo chuckled, his eyes dancing with mischief. He shrugged his shoulders.

Rose stuck her fingers in the near empty can and fished out a big smear of frosting, her own smile widening. “Oh, you’re going to regret that, Blue.”

He started to back away, but before Leo could get out of her reach, she smeared a dollop across his snout. Leo froze for a moment, then burst out laughing. “Oh, it’s on!”

She squealed and ran from him as he fished out more sticky frosting, vaulting herself over the couch in an attempt to flee from another attack.

He quickly caught up to her and planted another gob of sugary topping on her chin, as his other arm wrapped around her waist, holding her in place against his plastron.

Rose was giggling as she wiggled in his arm, completely helpless as he lifted a hand up to her face and smeared the frosting in more against her cheek. She squawked and batted at his large fingers, pulling a deep laugh from the terrapin holding her hostage.

“Tru-uce, Le-Leo! Truce!”

He let her go with a chuckle, and she turned around with her hands on her hips, trying to look stern but failing miserably as she broke into a grin. "You're impossible, you know that?"

Leo grinned back, grabbing a towel from the coffee table nearby and wiping his hands. "It's part of my charm." He offered it to her, and she gratefully accepted and wiped the sticky sugar off her fingers.

Rose rolled her eyes, but her smile didn't fade. "Well, Mr. Charming, I think we better clean up before someone else sees and asks questions."

Leo cocked his head to the side with a lop-sided grin. "Agreed. But I have to admit, that was the most fun I've had in a while." The soft smile lingered on his lips as he stood in front of her, snout still covered in frosting.

She reached up and wiped a bit from his face, her touch lingering for a moment. "Yeah, me too. "

The blue of his eyes glimmered with a sweet tenderness as he looked down at her. He lifted a hand to the nape of her neck, and rubbed his thumb gently against her skin as he churred softly.

She sighed at the touch, and her eyes closed as she leaned into his hand.

“How are you still beautiful covered in frosting?”

He felt her tense in his palm as her orbs popped open and she looked back at him, green emeralds bright at his words.

“I don’t know about that, Leo.” Rose bit her lip and broke away from his gaze. He tapped his thumb on her neck and hummed disapprovingly, and his other arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her in against his plastron. He could feel her pulse quicken as her chest pressed into the keratin.

She flicked her eyes back up to meet his.

“If I have to tell you every day, I will. You’re beautiful.”

A blush flushed across her cheeks as she sighed and gave him a sheepish smile. “Even if-”

He leaned down a little, and tilted her head slightly towards his as the smile began to slowly fade from his lips and a darker expression took its place. “Yep.”

Rose giggled nervously. “You didn’t know what I was going to say.” She could feel the internal pull towards him as he leaned in, her own body mirroring his.

“Doesn’t matter,” his face was close enough to hers now that his voice was a low whisper that tingled against her skin as he spoke. “You’ll always be beautiful to me.”

A breathy sigh left her lips as his snout brushed against her nose. Leo gently pulled her in closer, bringing her body flush to his and sending shivers up her spine. His touch at her neck remained soft, thumb brushing at the delicate skin and teasing tender lines and sensations as she began to feel the deep gnaw of hunger between her thighs.

Leo tilted his head further and let his lips lightly brush against hers, bringing a low rumble from his chest to fill the air between them. She lifted a hand to cup his jaw, and bit back a whine as he turned slightly to brush his soft, but firm pout against her cheek in a light kiss. Her skin tingled at the contact, imprinting the moment like a polaroid. She felt so…warm. The heat spread through her veins like fire.

“You taste pretty good.” He murmured huskily, licking his lips as he pulled back. She watched his tongue sweep across his bottom lip with want etched over her face.

Her hand at his jaw stopped his retreat, the hungry look she wore as she pulled him back to her lips made his breath hitch in his throat. Rose cocked a smirk at him, blush spread across her cheeks and pulse thrumming against his palm as she gazed up at him.

“God Leo, will you just kiss me already?”

He smiled, and raised his hand from the nape of her neck to her jaw as he ducked his head down to close the gap between them.

Leo pressed a soft kiss to her lips, heat sparking and blooming at the tenderness as his firm pout brushed against hers. The gentle heat behind it surprised her, and a soft moan sang from her throat when her lips parted slightly and he deepened the kiss. She was adrift as his tongue danced with hers in slow, languid sweeps, practically vibrating with want as lips caressed in melting passes of growing need.

His arm around her waist pulled tighter, wrapping her deeper in his embrace as his mouth claimed hers. She felt dizzy as her body pleaded for him, hips pressed tight together and needing more. The feeling of his lips against hers was becoming as precious a thing to her as oxygen.

A low moan rumbled from Leo’s chest, almost mournful, and he gave her one last tender kiss on her lush pout before slowly pulling back to press a chaste peck against her forehead with closed eyes. Her breath was a shaky pant, heart fluttering in her chest as she steadied herself in his embrace.

Her eyes were hazy when he moved to look at her again, muddy with lust. Leo’s face was a softer mirror of hers; joy beating in his heart and shining in his eyes like pools of seawater.

“That was..incredible.” She bit her lip with a soft smile, savoring the memory as it lingered on her pout. She lifted her other hand to his plastron, pressing her fingers against the thick plates.

He shook his head slowly, a grin blooming sweetly on his lips and blush peeking out under his mask. Leo let go of her waist and placed his three-fingered hand over hers on his chest.

“Yeah, it was.”

“Ahem.”

=========

tags:

@thelaundrybitch, @sophiacloud28, @zombiesnips-blog

#bayverse leo #tmnt #bayverse tmnt #tmnt 2014/16 #tmnt aged up #leo smut #leoooooo #every rose has it's thorn #bayverse turtles #bayverse leonardo #my writing

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goobleissocool · 2 months

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~•●Lord Sukuna in love with one of his maids●•~

CH.2. - The voices are getting louder.

Message from creator(me): Chapter two and one are available on Wattpad, link in comments!🩵

[I will say the story shortly, Lillian did something wrong, and Lord Sukuna had to learn her a "lesson"]

After Lillian said everything, your eyes widened at her words. You couldn't believe that she needed to go through all of that. You got up from bed and thanked her for telling you. You walked towards Kayla's room, knocking on her door. It was about 7 A.M.

"You can come in!" Kayla said. You opened the door and saw Kayla on the floor, doing something with her hands.

"Hah, what are you doing?" You asked, walking to her and leaning down to see what's happening.

"Trying out my curse..."

"But you don't have a curse..?"

*exactly.*

You both fell into laughter. You got up and walked to the door.

"Make sure Lord Sukuna doesn't see you..." You said, looking at Kayla. Her eyes were wide open, looking at the door. You tilted your head in confusion. Kayla got up from the floor, bending. You realized what's happening. You turned around and saw Lord Sukuna at the back, his two arms crossed, and the other two on his waist. You bent too.

"Sorry, my Lord..." You both said, your voice shaking. He laughed.

"No need to apologize. I know you were just joking around. Make sure not to make any mistakes like Lillian..." Sukuna said and left. You and Kayla looked at each other, sighing. You felt a bit bad what Lord Sukuna did to her.

It was around 8 A.M. and Kayla headed back to sleep. Another maid, called Mimi, woke up and needed to help you prepare breakfast for Lord Sukuna and others (maids). You two were talking while making it. You placed the food on the table, and Mimi helped you. Mimi walked towards Lord Sukuna's room and knocked. She came in and told him that breakfast was ready. He nodded and changed his clothes. Mimi headed back to you. You called other maids.

After some time, when you all ate breakfast, everyone walked to the room they needed to work. You, of course, needed to clean Lord Sukuna's room. While you changed the bed blanket, you saw cum on it. You were disgusted and tried not to touch it.

After time passed, you were done. You breathed out and walked outside, pulled the wire where dry clothes were on. You placed the clothes back in the basket, flopping them softly.

You came back inside and placed the stuff where they needed to go.

It was around 2 PM. and it was time to rest, even though you all didn't have anything to do. You all, maids, walked into the meeting room, where only maids were allowed. You talked there and had fun.

After about two hours, you were all still in the room. Lord Sukuna opened the door, and all the maids and you bowed down to him. He looked at you all.

"Y/N, make sure to be in my room in 5:30 P.M., or you will regret it." Sukuna said with an angry voice, leaving and closing the door. Everyone looked at you. You were shaking and scared, just a bit. Others tried to calm you down. You calmed down and sighed.

At 5:20 P.M. you were in your room, changing your clothes. When you were done, Kayla knocked and came in.

"I wish you luck..." She said, looking at you.

"Thanks.. that's indeed. I hope he doesn't - "

"We hope on that too. Are you sure he saw you?" Kayla asked

"Yeah... I'm a thousand percent sure... he looked at my eyes."

"It's okay. We all are by your side." Kayla said, placing her hand on your shoulder. You both smiled at each other.

"Kayla! Come here, we're about to start!" Someone said from the meeting room.

"It's my time to go. I wish you luck again and praying to you." Kayla said and left. You sighed.

It was 5:29 P.M. You were standing in front of the room of Lord Sukuna. You looked around, thinking he wasn't there. All of a sudden, he opened the door, and you sighed softly. He laughed.

"I'm sorry, my Lord.. I-I didn't know you were in there, and..-"

"No worries. I didn't know you were here either. Come in." He said, his voice softer than usual. You walked into the room and knelt on the floor in front of Lord Sukuna's throne. He sat on the throne, looking and exploring every piece of your body.

"So, you dared to come into my room and spy on me?" He asked, his voice still soft. You didn't look at him. You looked at the floor.

"I'm sorry, my Lord... I was just curious, and... I..." You said, your eyes watering. He sighed and got up from the throne, walking towards you and placing his hand on your chin, lifting it up to look at him.

"Lok at me when I'm talking to you. You wanna know what I did to your dear friend Lillian?" Sukuna asked, his voice becoming more serious.

"I already know, my Lord..." You said, your eyes still covered in water. He looked down at you and brushed the teat with his thumb.

"Oh, so she told you? Such a pity, I wanted to say every single thing I did and said..." Sukuna said, walking around you. You didn't say anything. You were just watching the floor and brushing away your tears.

You snapped out of the real world, thinking about what he would do to you now. The voices were getting louder in your head. Sukuna was just looking at you, chuckling. He again placed his hand on your chin, lifting your head up.

"Hey, come to the real world, Y/N..." Sukuna said, looking straight into your eyes. You shaked your head before coming back.

"Sorry, my Lord..." You said. .

#jjk men x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen

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dramioneasks · 7 months

Note

Hi, do you have some ff recommendations which are exclusive on Fanfiction.net and not crossposted on AO3?

my tbr-list is filled with AO3 stories but I'm sure there are some gems on FF.net too :)

Thanks!

On the one hand, I'm like: I came back at the perfect time to answer this question, because FFN got me into fanfiction. It's my first love. But on the other hand, I'm almost exclusively an AO3 reader now (FFN got too spammy).

Your best bet is to honestly just google something you're interested in and see if it's cross-posted. There was a big push a few years ago for authors to move or at least cross-post their fanfiction. And then there's a lot of fans who have moved older stuff over when it looks like the author is no longer active. So googling is the only way to tell.

But I'm happy to share my personal Dramione FFN favorites list, and I'm 100% sure some of our followers will post theirs in the comments.

-Shirlyn

The Request by redhead414 - M, 39 chapters - Astoria was never a fan of Hermione Granger, but pretty soon, she would be gone, and Draco was going to need all the help he could get. Rated M for future chapters.

The Fine Line Between Love and Hate by Short-circuit-Soulmate - M, 30 chapters - The Silver Marauders are the most popular group in school, consisting of Ron, Harry, Blaise and Draco. Hermione is the most unpopular girl in school. Blaise wants to discover the motivation behind Draco's constant bullying of Hermione. AU. Violence. COMPLETE!

Vibrations by Craft Rose - M, 6 chapters - After three years of a mundane, sexless existence and far too much wine, our favourite brunette happens upon the magic equivalent of a sex line. There, an intriguing, deliciously devilish caller manages to pique her interest. It's all fun and anonymous

Wrong Life by camnz - M, 25 chapters - Hermione wakes up in the wrong bed, with the wrong face, and with a husband that hates her.

Crimson with a Silver Lining by Lady Cailan - M, 78 chapters - It is six years since the fall of the Ministry to Voldemort. Those other than purebloods are deemed less than human. When Ginny's daughter ends up in grave danger, Hermione sells herself to the Death Eaters to save her life. Draco/Hermione. Not fluffy.

Burbage High by Charlotte Bird - M, 27 chapters (abandoned) - 14 Years post war, Hermione has become Head of the progressive, yet failing Burbage High. Handling right wing politics is easy, but working out why Malfoy is insisting his son start there in September is not. 10 years spent in Azkaban and 2 years isolated in the muggle world may have changed Draco, but surely not that much? Is something more sinister going on?

Forget Me by Emara88 - M, 26 chapters - The war ended over two years ago, but Hermione still feels the echoes of strange memories from that time, as though something is missing or has been taken from her. When she sees Draco Malfoy at a Ministry ball and collapses, falling into a coma, the truth about their past together is revealed.

Once More with Feeling by Kyonomiko - M, 20 chapters - Sometimes taking a second look can give you a new perspective on someone. Hermione has difficulty analyzing people once she has made up her mind, especially in regards to herself. Circumstances what they are, she might not have a choice but to try again. Dramione EWE. Granger Enchanted Awards 2018 Winner

Who Needs Friends by camnz - M, 47 chapters - Friends prove difficult as Hermione and Blaise start dating, especially his friends. Malfoy is particularly offended by Hermione's presence on the scene.

Simply Irresistible by bookworm1993 - M, 30 chapters - Draco gave a cocky grin. "I am going to give you a makeover." "I'm sorry what?" "You heard me Granger, I'm going to give you a makeover that will make every man want you,and make Weasley die of regret. You will be simply irresistible."

Pride, Image, and Reputation by Fanofbooks.Harry Potter - M, 28 chapters - They hate each other. Plain and simple. But he's Draco Malfoy, and no girl escapes his charm. Even if it is stupidly smart Granger. But what happens when progress is actually made...from both ends, and a certain little bet between friends gets in the way?

Of Kings and Queens by galfoy - M, 26 chapters - Hermione has a bad habit. Draco has a big problem. The universe has one heck of a plan.

Little, Fragile Toys by Bex-chan - M, oneshot - "That incident, their first kiss, always reminded her of a car crash; people often described how they could recall every moment before and every moment after, but the impact itself was lost or hazy, like when you find a new bruise and can't remember where it came from. And Hermione could genuinely remember every detail that followed the impact. Every detail." Dramione. One-shot.

It's All Uncharted by redhead414 - M, 38 chapters - "Are you ready?" she asked. Draco brushed the back of his hand against her forehead before tracing it down her cheek. "I was ready the moment you came back into my life, Granger. Are you ready?" "With you," she whispered, "I'm ready for anything."

It's Just Me by jehszs - M, 32 chapters - After a night of mistaken identity Hermione finds herself unable to stay away from the mystery man from the darkness. How can she stop herself from falling for him when he's doing everything in his power to make her his again? M. HG/DM. Warning: some non-consensual sexual themes

Heir Brained by diagonally - M, 42 chapters (abandoned) - The war witnessed Draco managing his way into the Order's fold & the trio's cramped boundaries. Years later, they are quasi-friends. Does Hermione want more? Want to bet your copy of 'Hogwarts, a History? Flashbacks/action/post HBP

Utterly Despicable by camnz - M, 24 chapters - The death of both Voldemort and Harry Potter let the pureblood elite build the world they wanted. One that leaves Hermione in a vulnerable state, which Draco Malfoy is prepared to take full advantage of.

The Bracelet by AkashaTheKitty - M, 103 chapters - Hermione has everything she could possibly want... Except a life. People are getting sick of her superior attitude, especially Draco Malfoy, who schemes to get her down, once and for all. And then there's the thing with The Bracelet... 7th year AR. COMPLETE SINCE 2009 XD

Forbidden by Darkest Dawn - M, 17 chapters - He hated her...but he would have her. After all: Forbidden fruit always tasted much sweeter. -Being revised-

Sweet Caroline by gingercat0319 - M, 43 chapters - He was rich, single and disgustingly handsome. Learn how a four-year-old will turn his world up-side down. Sequel now posted - My Darling Caroline.

The Passion Of Hate by XorderlyXchaosXnXconfusionX - M, 17 chapters - It's a known fact to the entire population of Hogwarts that Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy hate each other with a passion. But what happens when that passion turns the hate to lust? Winner for He Had It Coming Dramione awards

Valentine Encounter by Kyra4 - T, 24 chapters - READ ME! Draco and Hermione are Head Boy & Girl, but do NOT share a common room and see as little of each other as possible til a fateful encounter on Valentine's night leads to a gradual, reluctant romance. Starts 7th year goes postHogwarts. NOW COMPLETE

Never is a Promise by LoPotter - M, 45 chapters - HrD fic, they're head girl and boy and having an interesting year. June 19! I finally updated! It's been a year, sorry. But here's Chapter 45. Oh nelly :

#favourite fics #ffnet

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stiricidewrites · 6 months

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The Damage You Do: ch 20, pt 8

CW: spit

Previously

wwx giggled and lwj moaned, outright moaned, and wwx did it again. Then his own moan changed to a whine, because lwj had pulled him back—so far that his dom’s glorious, huge cock fell out of his mouth—and was tipping his head up.

“What is so funny?”

wwx smiled. It was wobbly and fucked out, he could feel it—uneven and strained with use and amusement. “I was thinking, I’ll get used to this one day,” he said, voice scratchy with use. Salt slid over his taste buds and him shuddered and whimpered for more.

lwj blinked down at him, that slow blink that made his stomach swirl. “Yes, wy,” the man said, his voice a promise that wwx was pretty sure would have had most people shuddering, running for the door. How many people had lwj promised to kill with that voice? It sure as hell didn’t sound like a voice you used on your sex workers. “You will ‘get used to this.’ Do you like that?” he asked, something like satisfaction sliding over his demeanour when wwx nodded enthusiastically.

lwj’s fingers pressed at his jaw, pushing it open—not that wwx was fighting him anymore. Fuck, he’d been fighting, hadn’t he? Hadn’t that been the whole damn point of all this? Fight and piss lwj off? Play with lwj, not just be a toy for him to play with. Where had all his fire and spark gone!? He didn’t just want to be a toy, he wanted to fight and tease and drive lwj to the edge—wanted to see him crack.

His dom wasn’t expecting it, for him to pull away. His eyes widened fractionally, surprised and interested in what wwx was going to do. Which—

wwx… couldn’t exactly decide if he regretted it, spitting on his dom. He hadn’t really thought it through, but the moment he spit, the moment his saliva landed across the other man’s chest—and thank fuck it hadn’t hit him in the face, wwx was pretty sure he would have definitely, 100% regretted that—he started to wonder if he had fucked up.

lwj blinked at wwx, the hand in his hair loosening, just enough that—if he hadn’t been so shocked at his own actions—he could have run. Made a break for it. He’d look pretty stupid, running through the apartment naked and limping. His dom definitely would have caught him, punished him who knew how—maybe even fired him. Was he going to get fired for this? Oh, fuck—

His dom’s hand tightened in his hair, harder than before, pain searing through wwx’s scalp and making him suck in a harsh breath. lwj’s other hand drew up to his chest, a thumb wiping through the spit that was slowly sliding down his pecs. “Disrespectful,” he said coldly, golden-brown eyes like icy flames when they looked back to wwx’s. “It seems as though wy needs to learn some manners. I should warn you,” he added, thumb scooping up the spit and bringing it back to wwx’s mouth, dragging the wetness over his lips when he refused to open his mouth to accept it back inside, “I am a harsh teacher.”

Fuck.

#fanfic #mdzs fanfiction #wangxian #stiricidesmobji #dark lan zhan

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sunwarmed-ash · 1 year

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Sinful Sunday

Ch 14: Rumors

Ships: Steddiegrove (EddiexStevexBilly), Buckingham(referenced) Rating/Status: Explicit, sexual content, rec drug use, FINISHED Tags: Everyone is a little queer, threesome, anal sex, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, billy x eddie x steve polycule, bottom steve in this chapter! Chapter Summary:

When they reach the bottom of the stairs they re-adjust their clothes to look more presentable for group breakfast.

Billy (tragically) puts on the grey tank top Eddie carried down for him and they were ready enough.

It was only 20 or so steps to the kitchen, but every motion was agonizing. Eddie needed to at least get to the living room if he wanted his painkillers out of his lunchbox. Billy had been content to carry him all the way into the kitchen and now Eddie was seriously regretting not taking him up on that offer.

Instead, after a pathetic attempt at walking on his own, they compromised and Billy helped Eddie limp to the kitchen.

When they finally enter the communal space, the conversations in the room stop and five sets of eyes land on the pair.

Robin's mouth drops to the floor and the back of her hand comes in contact with Steve’s bicep at lightning speed.

“Jesus Steve! I said fuck him not murder him!” she disapprovingly scolds.

Steve flushes all the way up to his ears. His mouth drops open in shameful surprise as his eyes jump between Robin, Eddie, and Billy. In that order.

Eddie and Billy explode in laughter, which makes the pain in Eddie’s ass so much worse, but fuck was that hilarious! He loved Robin so fucking much.

“Hey, I asked for it Rob,” Eddie says in his boyfriend's defense. “Besides, it's not Steve’s fault he was blessed with a huge cock.”

“Eddie!” Steve squeaked. “Are you serious right now?”

Eddie nearly bit through his lip to keep back his own amused giggle.

“Sorry sweetheart, I assumed everyone here has already seen it,” he winked and Steve’s sudden shift from nervous, to anxious, to thoroughly unamused had Eddie knowing his ass was in for more punishment. (Fuck, yes!)

Tammy snorted, Chrissy smiled wickedly, Vicki laughed, and Robin make a very obvious sound of disapproval.

“I would like to state for the record I have not seen it, nor do I want to-”

“Hey!” Steve said in his own defense, pointing an egg-covered spatula at her, “there’s nothing wrong with it!”

“That’s for goddamn sure,” Eddie teased, to which Billy and Chrissy nodded.

“Anyway,” Steve laughed, high and manic, “ I made breakfast, so why don't you sit, well, Eddie don’t sit, you should probably stand, …sorry.”

Eddie laughed and hobbled the rest of the way to Steve, kissing him deep and with tongue before reaching into the frying pan and grabbing a small piece of scrambled egg. When he pulled away he popped the piece into his mouth and smiled,

“Thanks for the good fuck and the breakfast Stevie.”

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starspatter · 8 months

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Heroes and Thieves, Ch. 23

Title: Heroes and Thieves Fandom/Universe: BTAS, pre/post-RotJ flashback

Summary: A story about second chances, healing, and having hope.

Rating: PG-13, for references to character death, child psychological torture and trauma.

Genre: Romance/Family/Friendship/Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 2,196 Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22

Also on ff.net and AO3.

We were just kids just living in Wide-eyed innocence Minivan floor like a tenement We were just kids who believed in More than just dreams In more than just justified ends to a means

-Switchfoot, "Who We Are"

————————–

Between.

Gotham Central Park. A harrowed, hunched form had parked himself on a bench overlooking the playground, where a group of children were engaged cheerfully. Peacefully. Safely. Hanging upside-down from the monkey bars, taking turns on the slide while their doting parents watched and applauded at each successful landing; boosting their precious little ones on the swings, higher and higher towards the horizon. It reminded Tim of the time he and Cassandra had sat there together, holding hands for the entire length of the afternoon. …She wasn’t here now though. He was alone.

…Or so he thought, but he suddenly felt a familiar shadow fall over him. Only stocky rather than slender. He didn’t even need to raise his head to guess who it was.

“I thought you and Cass were in Hawaii.”

“We came back as soon as we heard the news.”

Conner reclined on the resting next to Tim, who retained silence for an agonizing interval before finally stating:

“My wife’s pregnant.”

A thump on his back.

“Congrats, man. You finally knocked her up.” His companion grinned. “I was wondering if you two even did it, to be honest.”

Tim shamefully hung his head in regret.

“…It was an accident.”

“That’s a real nice way to refer to your future offspring. Look at it this way, you’ve got a story to tell the tyke when it grows up.”

“This isn’t funny, Kon.” He descended his frazzled forehead further into his palm. “What am I even gonna do with a kid? I can barely handle functioning normally on a daily basis, how the hell am I going to be able to take care of someone else? I mean,” he added spitefully, “it’s not like I exactly have the greatest track record of role models to go by.”

Conner’s own brow furrowed in faint frustration.

“Look, you think you’ve got daddy issues, you’re talking to the guy who has half of Lex Luthor’s and Superman’s DNA.”

“Sorry.” Tim swallowed sympathetically. “It’s just… What if I do end up like my dad? I could’ve inherited something bad from him…”

Conner sighed.

“Tim, buddy, you’re the one who told me genetics don’t work that way. Remember when I found out Luthor was my secondary DNA donor, I thought I had a 50% chance of suddenly turning ‘psycho’ myself in my sleep.”

“Or of going bald.”

Tim couldn’t help but taunt, and Conner flushed slightly, recalling that nervous period of constantly checking his hairline in the mirror each day.

“Point being… Everyone’s expected me to turn out to be either the world’s greatest hero – or the world’s greatest villain.” He looked down at his fist, clenching tightly in determination. “Ultimately, I chose to use my powers for good, not because of Superman, or Cadmus – but because I wanted to. Carve my own path. Show I can be more than just a weapon – what I was designed and purposed for – no matter what anyone else says.”

He clapped his company’s shoulder.

“Listen: You can choose who you want to be. You’ve already proven that by becoming a hero yourself. You are not your father. You’re you. And you’re the coolest, smartest, nicest guy I know. So stop worrying, quit beating yourself up, and trust me when I say you’re gonna be fine. ‘It’s’ gonna love you, because I do. So does Steph. And Cass. We all do.”

Tim rotated slowly to confront Conner, who beamed broadly.

“Remember, I’m here for you. All of us are. If you need help with anything, just ask.”

Tim stared at him, before restoring his gaze to the ground.

“You know… When the two of us first met, I was in a really bad place.”

“And now?”

“…Now?” He lifted again, and smiled. “Now… I’m in a good place. Thanks to you guys. You’ve all been as much of a ‘family’ to me as Dick and Barbara. Heck, you’re practically like a second brother. I don’t know where I’d be if I hadn’t met you when I did. I’m… really grateful for you being there.”

Conner rubbed his neck in embarrassment at the gushing words of appreciation.

“Ah, jeeze. C’mere, you.”

A large limb lunged around Tim’s shoulders, drawing him suddenly into a half-embrace.

“Kon!” Tim glanced apprehensively aside at the sound of giggles and whispers coming from two teenage girls passing nearby. “Hey, c’mon, we’re in public. People are watching.”

“So? Let them watch. I want the world to see how much you’re valued.”

Tim blinked, but accepted the bear hug, reciprocating amiably. Burying his face into the symbol on the other’s wide, warm chest. For a brief instant, it brought back a vague, tingling memory of being held and soothed by someone of similar size and build, dressed also in black…

Finally separating, he laughed sheepishly at the sappy scene, surreptitiously wiping his eyes.

“Look at us, two grown-ass men – acting like total chicks.”

Conner chuckled as well, and as if to assert his masculinity, lightly tapped the other’s cheek with a playful punch, teasing in a mildly mocking manner.

“I take back what I said before about you being cool. You’re still a dweeb.”

“And you’re still an ass,” Tim parried risibly with visible good humor, ribbing back in riposte.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

As they idled there like inept idiots, awkwardly avoiding acknowledgement of affection after the fact, another visitor with red on its breast ironically fluttered down onto the path before them, seeking handouts. Conner glimpsed anxiously at his comrade out of the corner of his eye, but Tim remained relatively calm as he obliged and pulled out the leftovers from the work lunch Steph had packed him, compassionately scattering crumbs of sandwich crust. After a minute of mute feeding, Conner quietly cleared his throat.

“…For what it’s worth, you’re still a ‘superhero’ in my eyes. Absolutely nothing that’s happened since then can ever change that fact.”

Tim wryly rolled his eyes, emptying out the residual rye before crumpling the wrapper and tossing it towards the nearest bin – marginally missing the mark so it bounced off the brim instead.

“You never even knew me when I was Robin,” he snorted.

“Yeah but…” Conner squinted contemplatively up at the sky. “For some reason it feels like I’ve known you my whole life.”

“That’s because you pretty much have.”

“Touché,” Conner conceded. “As far as I’m concerned though... You’re my Robin. Always will be.”

“And you’ll always be my clone boy.”

Tim replied with a hint of sarcasm, but smiled sincerely all the same.

As he stood in order to pick up the litter and put it in its proper receptacle, Conner followed suit. Taking advantage of the opportunity, he again bumped the neurotic neat freak on his bent backside, bolstering boisterously.

“Just to make sure you’ve got the message, I’ll say it once more: You’re gonna be an awesome dad. …A dork dad, but an awesome one.”

“Thanks… I think.”

Conner patted supportively.

“Go home to your wife, Tim. She needs you now more than ever. If you back out from this, then I seriously will kick your ass.”

His senses piqued as he turned towards something in the distance. With a wink, he continued:

“Speaking of which, I should probably get back to mine, before she glares a hole in my skull. Heck,” he cupped his palm in a hush, “you’d think she’s the one who has heat vision.”

I heard that.

A stern voice resounded in both their brains, as Conner winced. Releasing dutifully, he revolved and hastily walked off with a reverse wave.

“See you around, nerd. Remember, I’m always a holler away if you need anything. Even if it’s just to talk.”

Tim observed him go, approaching a dark-haired woman and a child with identical bangs and bold blue eyes. Conner stooped to ruffle the boy’s top, before hoisting the bundle up onto his shoulders. Cassandra smiled and nodded towards Tim.

She’s waiting for you.

With that, she took her husband’s hand and strolled off through the garden. Tim breathed out, before heading off in the opposite direction – towards home.

…

Stephanie was still seated at the kitchen table when Tim arrived at the house, having apparently yet to clear away the cups from a surprise guest tea with her college girlfriend, who dropped in unexpectedly after receiving a confidential call just this morning. Instead she was surveying absently out the window, running her finger along the rim of the mug, deep in thought. Her eyes elevated upon his entrance, and she smiled.

“Hey. Welcome home, honey~”

Tim crossed over and immediately answered her by leaning into a long, intimate kiss, to which she certainly didn’t object.

“Boy, considering I was throwing up in the toilet the last time we saw each other, you’re in an awfully adoring mood now.” She made a whooshing motion in order to jog – jibe him. “I mean, you just ran out of here like you saw some roadkill.”

Gulping, he cast a quick, knowing look towards the containers on the counter.

“Conner came to see me today too.”

“Oh, I see.” Steph pouted, pushing him away. “So that’s why you’re being so romantic all of a sudden. You feel guilty for cheating on me, is that it?”

Tim gave a weak laugh, and wrapped his arms reassuringly around her. They stayed like that for a while, his chin nesting gently on her golden crown as they admired the similarly-hued sunset.

“…I’m sorry for leaving you like that. I… haven’t really been able to figure out how to react to all this. If I should be happy, or terrified, or…”

She swiveled around, petting his jaw in forgiveness and understanding. She could see from the shaded lines around his sockets how stressed out and scared he was.

“It’s okay to be both, you know. I’m scared too. When… I gave birth to my daughter, I had a dream that my dad came to take her away from me. Even though he was supposedly ‘dead’ at the time, I was still so frightened he’d suddenly show up one day and claim her, train her to become a criminal like him. …That’s part of why I gave her up for adoption. I thought she deserved a better life – not one raised by the Cluemaster’s own dumb daughter, who went and got herself ‘preggers’ while still in high school by dating another loser deadbeat.”

Tim lowered himself down to her level, kneeling before her as he gripped her tautly balled knuckles.

“We’re not our parents, Steph. You’re clever and kind and beautiful, plus the strongest – not to mention most stubborn – person I know. You’re gonna be a great mom. And I promise I’ll be here with you from now on, 100%. Every step of the way.”

Her grasp unfurled, and he uplifted her tips, lips caressing in a courteous gesture that made her feel like a princess. She smiled, and responded to the noble deed with a token of her own fondness to her templar’s temple.

“We’re gonna do this together,” she agreed. “And we’ll be better.”

After a pregnant pause, she considered:

“Wait, so does this mean you’ll wait on me hand and foot now?” A mischievous grin formed. “‘Cuz if so, not to be cliché, but I’m really craving me some pickles dipped in mashed potatoes at the moment.”

Tim chuckled again.

“Whatever you desire, milady.”

“Hey, the little guy wants what it wants.”

At that, Tim tentatively reached out towards her tummy, and she indicated it was okay to touch, guiding his curious paw there. He felt the softness of the fabric, well aware that a fetus wouldn’t be showing any signs of movement at this stage, but marveling at the notion there was indeed a life growing inside of there. A life he helped to create, that he had – must have – experienced once (even if he couldn’t bring himself to recollect it anymore), nurtured and safeguarded against the harshness of the outside world. Who knew nothing yet of pain or sadness – just how cruel the world could be – only pure, unadulterated love.

…

…And when his son is finally born and he holds that tiny, squirming life in his trembling palms for the very first time, he makes a vow: To protect that unpolluted innocence at all costs. That he will never let anything bad happen to him; that his father will never abandon him. …Urging him to cry all he can now, because there would eventually come a day when he can’t anymore – even if he wants to. When he needs to be both brave and tough, and keep moving forward despite whatever difficulty he may encounter, make his own choice someday.

And yet… He feels tears rolling openly down his own ducts as the infant’s mother – his partner – family – rests against him, exhausted but elated. He soon realizes his own weeping isn’t an expression of sorrow either… but one of joy.

…

And when they simultaneously ask Cassandra and Conner to be the baby’s godmother and father, respectively, the two are more than honored and glad to be of service. …After all, they’re only returning the favor.

————————–

They said it's complicated They said we'd never make it this far But we are They said the fight would break us But the struggle helped to make Who we are We've got nothing left to lose There's still time enough to choose

#TimSteph #Tim Drake #Timmy Todd #Stephanie Brown #Conner Kent #Cassandra Cain #Batman the Animated Series #Batman Beyond #DCAU #Return of the Joker #fanfiction #starstories

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hermitw · 11 days

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For JJK ask game 8, 17, 20!

8. The most underrated character?

My dumbass typed an answer that fits 13 smh. Someone ask me that, I'm ready.

Obviously Megumi, because he beat severe depression with sheer gay audacity. Amazing. (that's a horrible summary but you get it).

But also Choso! I fear his the flaw he was unable to grow past was the compulsive need to sacrifice himself for Yuuji, to feel that he was worth living with. In his case I think the conditions that led to his existence rly weighed on his self-image, but this isn't the post for sad analysis this should be fun.

Damn I rly said the emos are underrated, huh.

I'm going to add Hanami bc they had their own domain expansion and we never got to see it. Idk if they were stronger than Dagon, but god, I'm still sad about.

17. Match my favorite character with a song

This should be easy bc I can just go to my pinned post and scroll through a playlist but no, I can't decide who my current favorite character is. I'll go w my long-term top 4, I guess

Choso - fear the sun by siiickbrain

(hard choice but I haven't read the lyrics since ch 259 came out and oh god??? It fits).

Gojo - Caramelltanzen

Geto - money power glory by Lana del Rey (idk how serious but I always laugh when it comes on ok)

the wisp sings by winter aid (scary accurate satosugu breakup song).

Sukuna - spite alone holds me aloft or butcher of the world by lingua ignota (that should fit the way everyone sees him lmao)

20. If I was in the airport, would i go north or south?

North, I am peacing out. Not rly the nostalgic type, I want to do something different. (if I was in the jjk universe though, I might hang around longer. I mean, who is in the airport with me? I can chill there. I might have regrets and go south, who knows).

Jjk ask game here

#Sorry for being so indecisive holy shit #I needed a minute to think about this #Also thought my playlists had more songs like WHERE is the other winter aid?? The uh I forget I gotta work on those #Like they all need to be 50hrs (jk I hope)#Jjk ask game #ask game #Jjk manga spoilers #Jjk 259

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rosethornewrites · 9 months

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Fic: the thread may stretch or tangle but it will never break, ch. 24

Summary: Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan arrive, with unexpected results.

Notes: See end

AO3 link

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23

———————

Once the meal is complete, the rest of the Wei family trickling out, including Popo and a reluctant A-Yuan, Lan Wangji presses the talisman book into Wei Ying’s hands so he can present it to Xiongzhang. His husband smiles in gratitude.

“Lan Zhan helped with this because his calligraphy is a lot better than mine,” Wei Ying says. “These are talismans I developed to help deal with different forms of resentful energy, in terms of how to remove it safely.”

Xiongzhang is already flipping through the book, Nie Mingjue beside him and also reading over his shoulder. Jiang Wanyin stands for a better look.

“Different forms?” Nie Huaisang asks. “Isn’t it all just resentful energy?”

Wei Ying shakes his head, adopting something of the air of a scholar, but he’s clearly a little restrained, perhaps still reluctant to discuss his cultivation, fearing judgment.

“It’s dependent on a variety of factors, including the emotion powering the resentment and what ‘vessel’ the resentment inhabits, if any—like you have to handle yao, mo, gui, and guai differently, but it’s even more complex than that basic categorization because of the different factors.”

He’s referring to the differences between resentful creatures, and it reminds Lan Wangji of the disastrous conversion between his husband and his uncle during the lectures at the Cloud Recesses. Wei Ying has been exploring the different ways such creatures should be classified, and has started to identify factors that complicate that classification.

The research is groundbreaking, as few have ever studied resentment for reasons other than gaining power, Wei Ying trying to make the best of his situation by improving cultivation knowledge. Lan Wangji has had the opportunity to read his notes as he transcribed them, and he is endlessly amazed by his brilliance.

“You can pull resentment from objects?” Nie Mingjue asks, his expression inscrutable.

The attention makes Wei Ying shrink a little in his seat, and Lan Wangji takes his hand, squeezing it to reassure him. His hesitance to discuss his cultivation is palpable, and partly his fault for having judged him without listening, even if it was out of concern.

“Often each case requires a slightly different solution, but I can generally figure it out, given time. Some objects can be intrinsically connected to the resentment, while others are simply inhabited by it at random.”

Nie Mingjue considers that and nods, keeping whatever thoughts he has to himself and going back to perusing the book as the next page is turned.

“Truly, Wuxian, these are revolutionary, almost too much for a dowry,” Xiongzhang says finally.

“It’s dowry for Lan Zhan, so if anything it’s far too little,” Wei Ying replies with a laugh.

Lan Wangji’s ears heat at his husband’s regard for him, but he also worries Wei Ying is too self-effacing and doesn’t credit his own brilliance enough—Xiongzhang’s assessment of them isn’t overblown; these talismans are truly priceless in their genius and usefulness.

“Wei Ying’s worth cannot be quantified,” he tells him seriously.

He is gratified when Wei Ying blushes deeply and hides his face, overly dramatic as he tends to be when complimented sincerely, something that he never finds boring.

“Hanguang-Jun, spare your poor husband. Your sincerity is too much,” he murmurs.

“Since when have you been shy at compliments?” Jiang Wanyin asks, amused.

Wei Ying only responds by sticking out his tongue, and his brother rolls his eyes good-naturedly.

“I have made a separate copy of the book for Wei Ying to keep, which may eventually be placed in the library at Lotus Pier,” Lan Wangji tells Jiang Wanyin, ignoring their antics.

He receives a nod of thanks, the Jiang sect leader’s attention already caught when Xiongzhang turns another page, the talismans drawing attention.

“Wei-xiong, we finished the rest of the yuefu,” Nie Huaisang comments, not as riveted by the book of talismans as the others. “Your baihua is better than mine and Wei Ning’s, so you should go over it to make sure it’s right.”

Wei Ning ducks his head at the acknowledgment of his help, shy, and Wei Qing nods her thanks to Nie Huaisang for including her brother. There was concern that he would not be accepted by their visitors, which would cause issues with any swearing of siblinghood, but it’s clear by how Nie Huaisang treats him, giving him back some dignity through not only including him, but also cleaning up his appearance so he once again looks like a young master, that their worries were needless.

Nie Huaisang pulls out the sheaf of parchment containing the poem and sets it in front of Wei Ying with a flourish, clearly proud of his work, and Wei Ying shifts through them until he finds the spot he read last. Wei Ning helpfully brings out an inkstone and brush for him to use if he needs to make changes.

While the respective sect leaders pore over the book of talismans, the rest of them peruse the draft, Wei Ying correcting the baihua as he goes, and once rewriting an entire line in a way that makes it fit the yuefu more organically.

“Nie-xiong, I can’t adopt all the street kids in Yiling,” he says emphatically, though his tone betrays him. “I mean, we can feed them now, at least, but what about when it comes time to move to Lotus Pier?”

“The sect needs people,” Jiang Wanyin cuts in before Nie Huaisang can speak, barely looking up from the book. “You don’t have to adopt them as your kids, just as Wei if they want your name. The ones who have the aptitude can become cultivators, and the others we’ll find a place for. There’s room here now for them, and you and Lan Wangji can start their education.”

Wei Ying stares at him, clearly flummoxed, but Lan Wangji knows this is something his husband would love to do—to give children like himself a home so they won’t have to live in the streets and fight dogs for food.

Nie Huaisang clears his throat pointedly.

“Wei-xiong, it will help with your image. No one will believe the Jin rumors, especially with a gaggle of kids hanging off you.”

“Unless they say we eat them or that I use them in some sort of dark rituals,” Wei Ying mutters darkly. “I’ve heard worse said about the Yiling Patriarch.”

Lan Wangji hates that those rumors exist. They are such an anathema to everything that is Wei Ying, beyond insulting almost to the point of blasphemy against his soul.

“You well know no one will notice the disappearance of street children, so there will be time. By the time it’s noticed enough, I’ll be able to take care of any rumors,” Nie Huaisang says, a determined twist to his lips. “A war without fighting is something I can handle, particularly if it subdues our enemies with less turmoil.”

Nie Mingjue drags his attention from the book to study his younger brother, clearly reassessing him, something Nie Huaisang doesn’t even notice, instead leaning over the table, absorbed in reading the changes Wei Ying has made to the yuefu so far.

“Now that we have enough supplies, I can start a clinic,” Wei Qing adds. “That should sow more goodwill, and we can bring meals for the street children.”

“That’ll work better than anything else—they’ll be wary, so it’ll take time,” Wei Ying says distantly, his gaze unfocused.

Lan Wangji can only assume he is thinking about his own childhood, surviving alone for years, and he remembers the scars from dog bites on Wei Ying’s legs. He offers what comfort he can, placing a comforting hand on his back, and is pleased when his husband relaxes at his touch.

Eventually Xiongzhang and Nie Mingjue wander off with Wei Qing to visit some of the warded areas and discuss future night hunts in the Burial Mounds, and Jiang Wanyin tags along—likely he will also send juniors to night hunt, but he’s really accompanying Wei Qing.

Nie Zonghui stays with Nie Huaisang, but generally stays out of the yuefu discussion except when it involves cultivation; at one point he and Wei Ying have a theoretical conversation about yin energy that ultimately adds nothing to the manuscript. Lan Wangji readily admits it is beyond his understanding, and Nie Huaisang spends the entire conversation looking as lost as Lan Wangji feels, though he is pleased the Nie first disciple isn’t balking at such a discussion or treating Wei Ying with the disdain he’s seen far too many of the gentry levy toward him.

The review and discussion of the yuefu comes to an end less than a ke before the others rejoin them, at which point Nie Huaisang dramatically announces the more interesting changes, largely to gloat over the debates he won.

Xiongzhang at least feigns interest, while Nie Mingjue shakes his head at his didi’s antics, but it’s rather a relief when Wei Ying and Wei Ning both jolt slightly. Not only does he prefer not to have the last few hours rehashed, but he is anxious for the swearing ceremony, if only for the sense that, with that complete, they will be that much closer to bringing Wei Ying home.

Jiang Wanyin seems to understand a moment later, asking “Jie?”

Wei Ying smiles, almost too bright, as though he too is feeling the weight of it all, and Lan Wangji takes his arm to urge him to his feet, letting the gesture remind his husband that he faces nothing alone now.

The Nies and Xiongzhang decide against accompanying them to the base of the Burial Mounds, allowing Wei Ying time to collect himself while accompanied by those he has learned to trust to help him.

Jin Zixuan, surprisingly, is not dressed in gold, but a robe of soft purple with embroidered pink peonies on the hems of the collar and sleeves, a nod to his Jin heritage in the peonies and their color, but also to the Jiang in the color of the robe. Jiang Yanli is wearing a pink robe in the Jin hue embroidered with purple lotuses, an interesting counterbalance to her husband. It is perhaps a nod to visiting the bride’s home and the joining of family, but also one that allows them to stand out a bit less, perhaps looking like late-leaving Jiang wedding guests. They are accompanied by a contingent of Jiang cultivators, as well as a carriage drawn by a duo of nervous-looking horses, which will need to be hidden near the base of the Burial Mounds from any prying eyes.

As soon as they come into view, Jiang Yanli rushes through the ward to her siblings, fussing over Wei Ying’s health, though he has to disentangle himself to key Jin Zixuan through the wards. The latter bows in greeting, and he returns the gesture a bit awkwardly. Some of the Jiang disciples also need to be keyed in.

Once inside, Jin Zixuan only takes notice of Wei Qing and Wei Ning when Wei Ying introduces them, all eyes for his wife, and he bows to them to greet them as well as Lan Wangji and Jiang Wanyin.

Jiang Wanyin passes orders to his men, and Wei Ying tells them where the horses can be tethered.

“It’s where we kept the horses from the labor camp before we sold them,” he says, glancing at Jin Zixuan to gauge his reaction as the Jiang disciples handle unhitching the animals and unloading a number of qiankun pouches from the carriage.

Jin Zixuan simply nods, clearly unconcerned with the matter. Likely the fate of the horses was an afterthought, given the situation.

While they make the trek up to the settlement, Jin Zixuan thanks the siblings for rescuing and protecting Jiang Yanli and her brothers, outright acknowledging the debt, and even apologizing for his sect’s role in Wei Ning’s death.

“There is quite a bit I have been kept in the dark about,” Jin Zixuan says. “A-Li has asked me to discard my preconceptions and see the truth for myself. The rumors about Wei Wuxian have seemed a stretch at best, anyway.”

Wei Ying glances at him, clearly nonplussed since his main interactions with Jin Zixuan have involved physical violence.

“You’ve hit me, but I deserved it both times, and what any of us did during the Sunshot Campaign shouldn’t count against us,” Jin Zixuan explains when he sees the expression. “Except the noble acts of We— er, Wei Qing and Wei Qionglin, of course, but the things we had to do in wartime, to defeat Wen Ruohan…”

He breaks off with a shake of his head.

“We all did what we had to do,” Jiang Wanyin says, taking over. “And we’ll be discussing more about the why at the settlement.”

Lan Wangji catches Wei Ying’s shoulder when he stumbles over a root, keeping him from falling, and Wei Qing elbows Jiang Wanyin none too gently.

“You lot can handle that—Wei Wuxian needs his treatment, and we can reconvene at dinner.”

Blessedly, while Jin Zixuan looks curious, he seems to know better than to pry, and the rest of the trek is spent in an awkward silence.

As soon as they are within view of the settlement, A-Yuan breaks away from Popo and runs to greet his guma, but when he catches sight of their new visitor he skids to a halt so quickly he falls down, wailing and calling “Diedie, Baba!”

While the others freeze, clearly taken aback by A-Yuan’s reaction, Lan Wangji springs forward with Wei Ying to pick up their son before his husband can hurt himself. The child clings to them, sobbing and babbling about the “bad forehead man,” and he realizes he must be referring to the zhushazhi that identifies Jin Zixuan as a member of the Jin clan.

When Jin Zixuan tries to move closer and speak, clearly hoping to calm A-Yuan, the wails turn to terrified shrieks, so full of deep-seated terror that it hurts Lan Wangji to witness. He can see Wei Ying is similarly affected.

Wei Qing joins them while they try to calm him, Wei Ying trying to remind him that this is the good Jin that Jiang Yanli married, her lips pursed as she assesses the situation. A-Yuan is too beyond comfort for the words to reach him, in near-hysterics, and seeing him so distressed makes it clear how badly he was traumatized by what the survivors experienced in the labor camp.

Ultimately, she turns to Jiang Yanli and mimes wiping the vermillion mark away, and blessedly she does so after consulting with Jin Zixuan, her horrified-looking husband completely cooperative. Unfortunately, it does nothing to calm A-Yuan, and Jiang Wanyin quickly organizes the Jiang contingent to block Jin Zixuan from view.

By this time, Xiongzhang and the Nies have arrived, drawn by A-Yuan, along with Popo. Several of the refugees also gather, their expressions sad but devoid of surprise.

“Jiang Wanyin, can you handle updating Jin-gongzi while we handle this?” Wei Qing asks over A-Yuan’s crying, her exhaustion bleeding through into her tone. “Popo and our other guests will be able to help you, particularly Nie Huaisang with the yuefu. I doubt Wei Wuxian wants to be present for most of it, anyway.”

Fortunately, this is readily agreed to by all parties, aside from A-Yuan, who has broken into a coughing fit. By the time the others have left, he’s lost part of his lunch in the dirt and is a whimpering limpet in Lan Wangji’s arms.

“Diedie and Baba won’t let anything bad happen,” Wei Ying tells the boy, even though he’s beyond hearing, having cried himself most of the way to sleep, “and Qing-gugu and Ning-shushu won’t either. You’re safe, baobei.”

Wei Ying starts to use a sleeve to wipe A-Yuan’s face, paying no mind to the high quality of the clothing, but Wei Qing stops him, handing him a clean cloth from a pocket to use instead. He speaks gently and soothingly, just repeating that he’s safe, until the child’s eyes close, his breath hitching occasionally as though he’s still crying even asleep.

Wei Qing gestures toward the cave and Lan Wangji leads Wei Ying, rearranging A-Yuan in his arms so he can guide him by a sleeve, recognizing that this has shaken his husband. They didn’t know how deeply A-Yuan had been scarred in his time at the Jin labor camp, but this has made it very clear in a horrifying and unexpected way to all present. Though they spoke to the boy beforehand to make him aware of Jin Zixuan’s visit, all the warning in the world could do nothing to prevent his terror at just the sight of the zhushazhi, so deeply had he been traumatized.

“None of us could have known,” Wei Qing says as they enter the cave, “so don’t blame yourselves—I can practically hear you doing that, both of you.”

Lan Wangji knows full well that won’t prevent Wei Ying from doing so, and it will be a struggle not to blame himself, especially as he saw the wreckage of the labor camp. They both know what the rescued people here went through, but neither of them considered A-Yuan, with the boy so bubbly and bright.

They remove A-Yuan’s soiled and dirty outer robes, and Wei Ying helps him arrange A-Yuan on the bed, nestled in blankets, his touches gentle as though the boy is made of glass, and then arranges himself nearby after stripping to his zhong yi trousers, making sure he can hold one of A-Yuan’s hands as though to remind him he’s not alone even in his sleep.

Wei Qing’s treatment focuses on his hips, and by the end of it Wei Ying is asleep, as per usual, needing only for the blankets to be drawn up around him, something Lan Wangji does as soon as the last acupuncture needle has been removed. He shifts A-Yuan to be closer to Wei Ying, who instinctively puts an arm around the boy in his sleep.

“I’ll go handle our guests, and come collect you for supper—I expect we’ll do the swearing ceremony afterward,” Wei Qing says brusquely, running a gentle hand through A-Yuan’s hair in a way that belies her tone. “I’ll bring fresh robes for A-Yuan.”

She isn’t the type to offer potentially empty reassurances, and so Lan Wangji isn’t surprised when she simply gathers her supplies and slides the curtain shut behind her without another word.

Lan Wangji is left to the quiet of Wei Ying and A-Yuan’s soft breathing. He can’t help but feel off-balance, A-Yuan’s heartbreaking reaction unsettling. The worry is unavoidable, with one goal so close to being met and yet the relief tempered now with the revelation of the scars on their son’s psyche.

As difficult as it is, he must trust in the others, and so he sets up an inkwell so he can transcribe more of Wei Ying’s notes to put the next half-shichen or so to good use, as his place is beside his husband and son.

—————

So all the Auspicious Eight are at the Burial Mounds ready to swear siblinghood. And yet a wrench in the works: A-Yuan’s trauma triggered by seeing Jin Zixuan’s zhushazhi, the vermillion dot. I did research to figure out how it would be referred to—meta on Tumblr is amazing.

This was a necessary stopping point for this chapter, as it would’ve gone on another 3000 words and taken much longer to get out otherwise. I promise this fic isn’t abandoned, just slow to update as a result of having multiple in-progress multichapter fics and my health issues.

Unsurprisingly, comorbidities popped up in the health area. As expected, treating the primary ones revealed more that need to be treated. It’s a frustrating journey, but I have a wonderful team of doctors that I’ve put together and we’re slowly getting on track to recovery. Good news: I don’t have any markers in tests of other autoimmune diseases. Just the one.

baba - dad

baihua - commoner writing

baobei - baby

diedie - dad

jie - older sister

shichen - two hour period

xiong - brother

xiongzhang - older brother

yao, mo, gui, and guai - types of resentful beings, see Lan Qiren’s quiz of Wei Wuxian during the lectures

yuefu - type of poetry, see previous chapter

zhong yi - undergarments consisting of trousers and a shirt that tends to tie closed in front

zhushazhi - zhusha is cinnabar, and with zhi it becomes cinnabar mole

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