#Or to hurt the other by prying into things that might be private and painful and where they may not be welcome

[fairandfatalasfair]

Edwin doesn't talk about hell because Charles is innocent, pure and righteous and destined for heaven, and doesn't deserve to be tainted by the ugliness of Edwin's past.

Charles doesn't talk about home because Edwin is innocent, sweet and soft and a stranger to violence, and doesn't deserve to be tainted by the ugliness of Charles' past.

Edwin doesn't talk about hell because he doesn't want Charles to think of him as broken, doesn't want the first friend he's ever had to look at him with pity thinking of the hunted animal he became in those green-lit halls.

Charles doesn't talk about home because he doesn't want Edwin to see him as weak, doesn't want his favourite person, the one he's sworn to protect with every ounce of strength he has, to know Charles couldn't even protect himself.

Edwin doesn't talk about hell because he doesn't know where to start. It's one thing to say that you spent 73 years in the worst place, with the worst people. It's another to try to open your mouth and pour out what that means. There is no order of events or narrative structure that can make sense of that much grief and rage and terror and anguish. There are no words in any language to describe the scale of it.

Charles doesn't talk about home because silence is a hard habit to break. He learned it young, saw his parents lie to teachers and doctors, and prompt him to do it too. He practised it all his life, 'till the lies came to his lips easier than the truth. Slipped on the stairs. Wasn't looking where I was going. My fault. How do you crack open that vault? There's never a good time to bring it up. It's easier just to leave it unspoken, hinted at but never explained.

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Musician Age Gap AU Pt 19

Lena gives Kara the right of way, and lets herself be led into the kitchen. When they enter the room, Kelly and Alex straighten at the sight of them, while Esme remains focused on pawing thru the fridge for the elusive cider.

Kelly's gaze remains gentle and perceptive-- Kara sees her focus dip to their joined hands before sliding to her wife. Alex, meanwhile, is scrutiny incarnate, her gaze hard as she scans Lena imperiously.

"Hi," Lena says quietly.

"Hi Lena," Kelly returns easily. "I'm glad you could come."

Lena relaxes a little. "Me too. Thank you for having me. You have a lovely home."

"Probably not what you're used to," Alex says, her tone carefully neutral. Kara spots Kelly's grip tightening in warning around Alex's hand.

"It's been a while since I've been home," Lena allows. "So this is a nice change of pace, for sure."

"Oh? Where do you live?"

"I split my time between Metropolis and Star City when I'm not on tour," Lena replies easily enough. "But of the two I consider Metropolis more my home. I grew up there."

"I didn't know that," Kara says.

"Mhmmm," Lena hums. "We in the city most of the year because of my brother's band. When they weren't performing, they were auditioning, so it was just easier to live there full time."

"You have a brother?" Esme says, perking up.

Kara feels Lena tense a little, suddenly realizing she might have shared too much. But it's too late to back pedal.

"We're not in touch anymore."

Sensing Lena's discomfort, Esme thankfully doesn't pry any further. Kelly keeps the silence from stretching too far.

"Well, we happy to have you. We figured you could share the guest room with Kara--"

"Or you can take the couch," Alex inserts. She studies Lena for a reaction, but Kara comes to her rescue.

"With me is fine," she says. "Unless you all fall asleep to the witchy thing--"

"Hexed! Mom, Lena watches Hexed!"

Finally, Alex relents, her posture sagging a little as she lets her guard down. "Then she's got good taste."

"She's got a crush on Samantha Arias," Kelly whispers theatrically.

Kara barks a laugh as Alex splutters indignantly. "I do not!"

"Do too!" Esme joins in the teasing.

"Don't worry, baby," Kelly assures her wife playfully. "She's on my hall pass too."

That makes Alex stop. "She is?"

Kara opens her mouth to mention having met Sam, but Lena nudges her sharply. She looks over and clicks her mouth shut when Lena gives her a look that says 'not now'.

"Well," Kelly says, even as Alex still gawks at her, "looks like we need to stock up on cider and spooky snacks, so why don't we head to the store while you two settle in?"

It's not the most subtle segue, but Kara is grateful for a chance to talk with Lena privately. Once Esme is shuttled off into the car, Alex gives them one last hard look before closing and locking the front door behind her.

Lena sighs. "Well, that went better than I expected."

"It helps that Esme's your biggest fan," Kara offers with a wry grin. Then she sighs. "Let's sit."

Lena nods, and they sit on opposite ends of the couch, orienting themselves to face each other. Lena looks nervous, and though Kara's first instinct is to ease that, she holds back. What was it that Kelly had said? Growing pains.

"Those pictures sucked to see, Lena," Kara says carefully. "I understand they were outside your control, but... it still hurt."

"I know. I just-- don't know how I can fix it. Like I said... it comes with the job. I signed up for it... but you didn't. I get that."

Lena sounds miserable, and looks it too. But Kara doesnt have any more ideas than Lena does.

"Maybe being with you means signing up for it," Kara allows, thinking out loud. "But what happens when I start being part of the scandal. What happens to Esme?"

Swallowing thickly, Lena lifts a helpless shoulder. "I don't know."

"Me neither. But it's something I have to consider." Kara slumps further into the cushion. "Also, I-- I don't know where I stand with you."

Concern flashed across Lena's features. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, but... I'm in your court, Lena. I'm... an intruder. And I care enough about you that when I see something concerning, I want to ask about you, but.... I don't know if I'm allowed to."

"You can ask me anything," Lena says.

"Okay." Kara meets her gaze and holds her. "Why didn't you want to meet with Morgan Edge alone?"

Lena's cheeks lose all color in an instant. Her entire body seems too lock, her hands clasped in a white knuckled grip.

"I don't expect an answer," Kara says quietly. "But that's what I mean. I don't feel like I have the right to ask about this. And I suspect plenty of other subjects will make me feel the same way."

Lena stares at her, eyes wide. Kara reaches out to clasp her wrist, but Lena pulls away. Hurt lances through Kara's chest, but the tight sound of Lena's breathing concerns her more.

"Lena--?"

"What else," Lena croaks.

Kara hesitates. "Lena..."

"What. Else."

Taking a deep breath, Kara carefully forges ahead. "We started this content to simply see where it goes. Do you still feel that way?"

Lena doesn't respond.

"Because it doesn't feel casual anymore. Joining you on tour was certainly impulsive, but it wasn't casual. I thrust myself into your life, and you invited me to, but... I can't really bring you into mine, can I?"

"I'm here now," Lena says, voice tight.

Kara nods. "And I'm grateful for that. But... you wouldn't be able to go to the store with Esme to get cider. Or even take a walk around the block."

Lena releases a short breath. "No. Not without putting her in danger."

"I know you would welcome Esme into your world as warmly as you welcomed me. But for her it would be temporary. For me, if I choose this, it would be permanent, and complete."

She watches Lena inhale again as though to speak, but she doesn't.

"I don't think we'll find a solution before the others get back," Kara continues. "But I wanted you to know where I'm at. What I have to think about."

Lena nods. "I understand. Thank you."

Finally, she meets Kara's gaze. A small smile, but it and the glint in her eyes are sad. She swallows several times before she's able to speak again.

"Can I... do you mind if I take a minute before the others get back?"

Kara nods readily. "Of course."

Lena rises stiffly, then retreats to the powder room, closing the door quietly behind her.

Tears burn at Kara's own eyes, but relief overwhelms them. Relief that the unspoken burden of worry and uncertainty that has been weighing on her, has now lifted in the speaking of it. Perhaps it's selfish of her to now make her concerns now Lena's burden as well, but... would it have been fair to either of them to keep it to herself?

By the time Alex's car pulls back into the driveway a few minutes later, Kara's hands stop trembling, and Lena re-emerges with clear eyes. Their eyes catch as the front door opens, and Lena offers a reassuring nod: whatever happens next, it won't affect tonight.

True to Lena's unspoken promise, the evening proceeds without a hitch. She gamely weathers Esme's velcro presence, listening with interest as she rambles about school gossip and the boy she likes in her history class. And after dinner, they watch Sam bewitch and enchant on screen while munching on sweet snacks and sipping cider out of mugs shaped like skulls and cats and candy corn.

That night, however, the air grows taut between them the moment the guest room door shuts.

"I can take the couch," Lena murmurs.

Kara pauses. "Do you want to?"

Lena shrugs. "No. But I don't want to make you uncomfortable--"

"Hey," Kara interrupts softly. She closes the space between them. "What we talked about today came from a place of love. It hasn't made me uncomfortable." She hesitates. "Has it made you uncomfortable?"

"I mean... a little. I don't like uncertainty, much. And with us in a gray area, I don't know what's... appropriate."

Kara smiles. "Sharing a bed can be as appropriate as we want it to be."

"Kara..."

"I plan to sleep on the right side, fully pajama'd. I don't figure we need to make things any less certain than that."

Lena chuckles in spite of herself, but isn't quite convinced. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," Kara assures her.

Finally, she gets a small sigh of resignation. "Okay."

Kara's efforts are enough to banish the tension for a few minutes, but it comes back in full force once they crawl under the blankets. They face away from each other, but Kara can feel the stiffness in Lena's frame, a tension that takes root in her own limbs.

It lasts for several long silent minutes before Kara speaks up.

"You know I wouldn't have said anything, if I didn't care. Right?"

Lena sniffles. "I know."

---

The next morning, Lena lingers long enough to have breakfast with Esme and see her off to school. Once she clears her dishes, Lena collects her overnight bag and offers Kelly and Alex a soft smile.

"Thank you for having me," she says.

"Our pleasure," Kelly returns. "Thank you for coming. I know it was a long trip, and it meant the world to Esme."

"She's wonderful, truly. You've raised an amazing person."

Kara escorts Lena to the driveway. Once Lena stows her bag in the back seat, she turns back to Kara with soft, sad eyes.

"You're not coming back, are you."

Somehow, Lena saying it first makes it easier for Kara to concede. She shakes her head. "No. I don't think so."

"And us?"

Kara takes Lena's hand in hers, and Lena twines their fingers together.

"I care about you too much," Kara says, "to do this halfway."

Lena anxiously rocks on the balls of her feet, lips pulling against burgeoning tears. "Yeah." She manages to meet Kara's gaze. "So, back to normal life?"

"Ehhhhh...." Kara hedges. "The fact I dropped my job the first chance I got is a clue I might not like it very much. Maybe I'll look for something I'm more passionate about."

That brings beaming smile to Lena's face. "That sounds like a great idea. You deserve to find... whatever you're looking for."

Kara lifts her hand, cupping Lena's cheek. "And you, Lena Luthor, are stronger than you think. You deserve to work with people you trust."

She hopes Lena understands her meaning, and from the stunned half-open set of her mouth, Kara suspects she does.

Kara leans in one last time, kissing the corner of Lena's mouth. "Thank you, Lena. For everything."

Lena nods against her. "You too, Kara."

And then Kara watches Lena climb behind the wheel and carefully drive away. As she stares at the winking tail lights, even though her chest aches and her eyes burn, she can't help but feel as though a brand new life is just waiting to unfold.

[crxwnedbarbie]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐒𝐇𝐄 cries quickly on cue on scenes, Barbara knew how to swallow the threatening tears, something she managed well throughout the years. She was holding the threatening tears as she talked about one of her fears. ⏤ Once the tsarina found a place to sit, Barbara found some composure, rubbing carefully the corner of her eyes with her gloved fingers, and swallowing the threatening tears. She looked around and noticed they were alone. ❛ It's horrible and heartbreak shouldn't exist. ❜ The Hungarian princess also had other heartbreaks in life, with family too. With family, somehow she learned how to live with it, not affecting her. Romatically? She closed off for good, having struggled to 'trust' in people. She would not chase the Count, it wouldn't make her feel any better. Being heartbroken for a loved one is just disappointing. Barbara was glad that hopefully, this pain would go away because she couldn't bear to feel like this. Not that she let anyone, see this side, except now she is opened up to Amara, and the only one she would share the things. It was a relief to say it to someone and not feel judgy by others, instead of the usual bottle up the sentiments.

❛ He is, and I'm thankful for that. I don't want to make any of us miserable by this union. I'm also willing to make this work, except I'm slow in the process. ❜ That was true, even with the Count, it took her a lot of time to finally know what she felt for him was 'love'. ⏤ ❛ He is oddly both at the same time, patient and unpredictable with me. ❜ It was true, he always treated her so well… But then she remembers him telling her how he threw the French prince on the wall… Barbara would never guess how a 'gentleman' he is would do such a thing, although he explained to her his reasons. ⏤ ❛ And in this hypothetical situation, I would tell him sooner like immediately before developing any 'feels', rather than later. I think the longer keep a secret like this worse the downfall. ❜ She heard rumors of people who chose this path, and how the aftermath, in general, was terrible. Barbara didn't want to put herself in a complicated position. ❛ In a hypothetical situation… If I back to him now… I would hurt my fiance, and I would risk a lot… And how can I be so sure he won't pull me away from him again, after 'risked' everything?! I would have nothing in the end. And twice the pain. ❜ And that's why she didn't trust him. ⏤ She met the other's gaze, with a glint of sadness in grey-bluish hues, for pouring out what she truly is bottled up inside. ❛ And that's all my fault and my stupid fear. ❜ Barbara refers to why the prince might think he is competing with her ex, she doesn't want to make him feel like this if he feels it. When reality it is just her inner struggles. Barbara enjoys what her fiance is providing her and she feels terrible because at the moment she doesn't feel enough for him, despite being unsure how to give back the same kindness. She wanted to make her fiance happy, just like he makes her happy despite not having all the normal energy she normally has to make it happen. With the clarity of somebody else, a person who is a friend and she admires, it makes her relax for a bit. Her pupils dilated a bit when the Amara took her and gloved hand. Surprisingly she isn't used to so much affection, despite being affectionate with people. Barbara was astonished that she understood her completely now when she said what troubles her thoughts.

❛ He's not just a friend. He's little more than that. I'll try to be less harsh on myself. ❜ And not let dark thoughts cloud my mind, but that part goes unsaid. ⏤ ❛ How did you 'overcome' your heartbreak? Don't have to tell me the reason for your broken heart but what did you do to well… Feel a little better about yourself. Was it time? ❜ She didn't want to pry into topics that weren't her business, the tsarina's private life, it's her only. She just wanted to hear, what she did do in her experience to overcome all of it when everything seemed impossible. Holding the other's hand with a coy smile.

❛i don't think you can.❜ while amara has been invited to many premier and other hot spot events ( more so since being crowned empress ), she didn't know most of those celebrities personally to attend. it has never been her thing, but for barbara who's a good friend, it's a different matter entirely, she's sure she'd perhaps only attend such events if they were for the blonde. things are different now certainly, that women could have more freedom to do what they wished as royalty but amara knows much changes after a marriage, more than one expects, and it doesn't have to be all bad, but ones priorities do shift. still, she hopes that barbara isn't ever placed in a position where she must relinquish her successful career - something the other loves so much. regardless of the circumstances, marriage is scary, and amara is as fearful when talks of her own marriage to the tsar was in the works. the tsarina sees that the other is fearful more than she lets on, but its when she sees the liquid pooling in the other's gaze that amara shifts closer to the other, leading them to a place to sit.

she looks around to ensure they are alone before turning her attention the blonde, a hand resting on the other's in comfort. she does understand that while barbara has made her peace with ending things with the count, it didn't mean it hurt any less. in a way the count has done this woman a favor knowing that they would have no future with their respective positions. to an extent, amara knows this because the king of italy is much the same way, his children would never be allowed to marry below their titles. still, her heart goes out for the princess, barely having time to process leaving the man she loves and attempting to form a relationship with a new one. ❛i would agree, its wise of you not to chase the man and makes things even more difficult for yourself. though I can't say I know what its like to be in your exact position, i do know what if feels like to have your heartbreak by a loved one." she's dealt with it with many times over, with her family, and her own husband, for a different reason than barbaras'. ❛I will tell you this, you will not hurt forever, that's my promise to you. no matter how it seems and it feels now, you won't feel this ache forever.❜ that much amara can say with certainty. she nods, ❛you can't, it makes you want to try harder to be as good to someone like your fiance. he sounds like a fine man, and one who wants to make this marriage work between you two. one of these days you will want to open up to him. the fact that he gives you so much time, is telling enough.❜

it was a lot the other was holding back all this time, there really hadn't been any time for barbara to process all the changes all at once. to be the last one to know of your own engagement is a splitting feeling in itself. but amara is so relieved her fiance seems to be a patient man, allowing barbara time to come to terms with this unexpected alliance at her own pace. she is also relieved and equally glad the other shared this with her, that she wouldn't want the other to keep inner turmoil bottled up inside for so long. if she ever needed to unburden herself to someone, amara would be there. ❛unpredictable hmm... odd from the same man who's patient.❜ a brow rises slightly but she nods, ❛he would appreciate that more, to have his fiance be honest with him. these sorts of lies and sneaking around don't bring anything but complications and disasters. so, for your sake alone, i'm glad you didn't place yourself in that position.❜ she believes that one day babara will find her happiness, and that most things worth having were also worth fighting and waiting for. because amara had even her previously strained marriage didn't want to quit because of the sliver of hope she'd clung to that paid off. things had not been ideal or easy, but to now where she's at with iskender...it was worth the trials. she also wished those days to hate the tsar, but in the end she couldn't. ❛yes, its a valid fear, when something is so good you're afraid you will lose it, or that it will never last.❜ a pause as she met the other's gaze, her own hazel orbs softer, ❛its understandable that you'll never hate the count. and I know why you feel you'll not be enough because I also suspect that he perhaps feeling the same way about himself concerning you. while you wrestle to your heartbreak, the prince feels as if he's competition with the man you love even if hes not in the picture anymore.❜ the brunette shakes her head, ❛no, it doesn't make you a bad or ungrateful, just a cautious one, something your fiance understands right now, until you've had a chance to process your breakup. let your fiance be there for you, let him be a friend to you for now, and allow yourself time, because I do believe that the day will come when you know what you want from him. he will earn your trust and you don't be afraid to give him yours. just be patient with yourself, of all.❜ amara squeezes barbie's hand. ❛you've had one heartbreak, and now? things will be better for you.❜

[ijustwant2write]

Runaway-Finn Shelby x Reader

(GIF credit to @dialnfornoir​)

Masterlist

Summary: On her brisk walk home, (Y/N) witnesses a brutal Peaky Blinder attack, attempting to run away when Finn Shelby comes after her, only to sweep her off her feet.

Characters: Finn Shelby x Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name 

(Y/L/N)=Your last name

Warnings: Violence, fighting, blood, fluff

                                      *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Come on (Y/N), not even one drink? We won't even make you stay, just the one!" my friend moaned as I denied their proposal of going to the Garrison.

"You said that last time, and I ended up staying until early hours." I laughed.

They all put their hands together as they started begging. I also laughed at this, embarrassed by the attention that was suddenly on us.

"No, seriously. I have to be good with money this month. Thanks to you lot, I'm having to be frugal for the rent."

They sighed."Fine, we won't make you come. But you will be missed. Just get home safe, OK?"

"I will. You too, please don't get too drunk and end up sleeping outside."

"That was one time!"

I shook my head as we giggled, waving goodbye when I turned to walk home. We had just finished work, so it was still relatively light out; I would say it was less dangerous to walk alone, but we did live in Small Heath. Yawning after the long, boring shift, I adjusted my coat around me, trying to keep warm. All I wanted was a good dinner, get cleaned up and snuggle into bed, maybe read a few chapters of the book I had if my eyelids could stay open. I was only in my early twenties and already feeling like an old woman.

Home wasn't far, a good twenty minute walk, which could be a bad thing if it was raining, a lovely stroll if not. I lived in the better part of Small Heath (if there even was one), walking home from work had never been an issue. Until I heard the unfamiliar sounds of desperate begging and crying, as well as thumps and slaps of skin of skin contact. My eyes widened, heart beat accelerating when I realised someone was begging for their life. There was no other way home for me, I had to take this route. What I should have done was turn around to join my friends for that drink, but the natural human tendency to be curious took over. As I cautiously continued my way home, I couldn't help but glance down the alleyway behind a row of houses, spotting four young boys surrounding an older man, who looked like he was being beaten to a pulp by one of them. I froze, having never seen a brawl like this up close. It was as if I were delayed, somehow taking ages to register that I had to leave before they spotted me.

Unfortunately one of their heads snapped up to look at me, tapping his friends on the shoulder, pointing at me as he shouted for them to stop. My legs still wouldn't move, staring at the man who's face was soaked red with his own blood. It wasn't until one of the young men started approaching me that I sprinted away, suddenly terrified about what could happen to me.

I cursed myself for being such a bad runner, as well as the shoes I was wearing. My lungs were working incredibly hard, my throat drying up whilst my mind panicked as it tried to remember which way was home. I let out a scream as the boy grabbed me, crying out in pain when they pushed me against the brick wall. Attempting to scramble out of their hold was useless, they were pushing their whole weight on me, I had no escape.

"(Y/N)?" he said my name.

My eyes widened, realising who had a hold of me. It was Finn Shelby.

"(Y/N) (Y/L/N)? We went to school together. You might not remember me, but we definitely did."

"Of course I remember you! You're Finn fucking Shelby.”

"Oh right."

"Please don't hurt me."

He looked confused."Hurt you? Why would I do that?"

"Well, you're currently pinning me against a wall, and I'm finding it a bit hard to breathe if I'm honest."

He glanced down, quickly pushing himself away from me. I tried to hide getting my breath back, letting out a quick cough. It seemed he wasn't going to hurt me, and he wasn't being sadistic about that phrase either.

"I'm sorry. You alright?"

I slowly nodded, still wanting to be on the safe side.

"I remember you from school. Obviously changed a lot, though I have seen you from time to time."

"Right."

"Look, uh, what you saw back there, I need you to forget it."

"Finn," I was scared to say his name but I did anyway,"you almost killed him."

"You know I'm a Peaky Blinder, right?"

"How could I not? And are you trying to justify what you did?"

"(Y/N), he ran a brothel using children."

"Oh."

"I mean, you couldn't have known that, so I can see how that looks from a different perspective."

"Well, I totally agree with your actions then."

"I still need you to keep quiet about the whole thing."

"Um, of course."

"Where were you headed?"

This was the longest conversation I had ever had with Finn, with a Peaky Blinder. I briefly remember him as a child, you never do have specific memories at such a young age, though I probably played with him during break time.

"Home."

"Let me walk you."

"No, honestly it's fine, it's not far."

"I insist. Part of my apology for scaring you earlier."

"Part of your apology?"

"Yeah, I'm taking you out for drinks tomorrow."

I started thinking I might have been in a dream."Sorry?"

"Do you always act this surprised at what people say? A catch up drink."

"That's alright, really, if you're trying to make it up to me-"

"Come on, just one?"

It was like deja vu.

"If you're busy tomorrow, we can always go tonight. Yeah, you know what? Let's do that instead!"

"No, Finn, really I'm fine."

"I won't take no. Please, it'll be nice, I promise all I'm asking for is a drink."

I felt obligated to go, still in a bit of shock from what happened. But my friends were at the Garrison, if they saw me with Finn they would think I was ditching them, and what would it look like for me to be walking in with a Shelby?! However, I felt bad when I saw how happy Finn was; and even if he tried anything later I would undoubtedly slap him, I wasn't afraid of that (I tried to convince myself). When I agreed, his smile grew even bigger, instantly heading towards the pub.

I was trying to focus on what he was babbling on about, only my mind was preoccupied with the dreaded stares of my friends. That was one fo the worst things you could do as a girl, ditch your friends for a boy. Then there would be questions about how I met him, why didn't I tell them, why didn't I bring him along to drinks etc. I'd look like any other desperate girl that tried to cling onto the arm of any Shelby, desperate for a taste of the dangerous, gangsta life, even if it was just for one night.

As we walked in, I felt sick, immediately spotting my friends on their usual table they always tried to grab. They hadn't seen me yet, so I attempted to hide behind Finn, keeping my head down as we stood at the bar.

Finn was served first before anyone else."Whiskey Harry, and you?"

"Um, wine please."

"Just put them through the window, yeah?"

I was confused when we walked to the private room, it felt like I was trespassing. Though this gave me a good hiding place from my friends, chancing to glance back at them before disappearing. They still hadn't seen me.

Finn casually sat down, looking relaxed. I stood, not sure whether to join him, which was a stupid thing to think when he had invited me.

"Are you going to stand there the whole time?" he chuckled.

I said nothing as I sat down opposite him, not wanting to become trapped in the booth with him. I still wasn't sure what to say once seated, hating that this could become awkward at any second.

"Are you OK? You seem a bit shaken up still." he asked.

"I'm fine." I squeaked out, knowing he could see right through me.

"You're all nervous, what's wrong?" he smirked.

I sighed."My friends are out there."

"Oh, well go tell them to join us."

"No!" I snapped too quickly."Look, I said no to drinks earlier, hence why I was on my way home, and I was scared what they would think or feel if they saw me waltz in with you."

"Don't want to be seen with a Blinder?"

"No, just didn't want them to think I chose a boy over my friends."

He gave me a pointed look.

"And I guess it would seem strange if I suddenly walked back in with a Blinder."

"Why did you say no in the first place?"

"Because money is tight. That was another reason I was hesitant to come, honest."

"You're not paying (Y/N)."

"Oh, Finn-"

"No, because I literally get this stuff for free." the small window into the room opened."Speaking of."

He reached over and grabbed our drinks, handing mine to me before clinking the glasses together. Unlike Finn, who threw the whole drink back, I sipped on my wine, and god was it good. He slammed the glass back down onto the table, letting out a satisfied breath.

"So what have you been up to since school?"

"Well, I've got a job at this clothes shop, you might have passed it but we only deal with women’s clothing, so I doubt you’ve been in. Uh, I actually started there as a shop assistant after I left school, you know, running errands and doing the little things no one else wanted to do. Then they started giving me proper jobs, I’m also a book keeper now and-” I glanced at Finn, realising that I was rambling,“-sorry, I’m talking too much.”

“No, no you’re not.” he chuckled, waving a hand in the air.

“Long story short, I work in a clothes shop. What about you?”

I closed my eyes as soon as I finished my sentence, wincing at my stupidity.

“I didn’t mean, I wasn’t trying to be smart or pry, obviously I know...no I don’t know...”

“You’re cute when you stumble over your words.”

I wasn’t expecting that.“E-excuse me?”

Before things could get any more awkward, the door opened, making us both jump. I felt my heart drop down into the pit of my stomach when I saw who it was, and I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me; his brothers were here.

“What the fuck are you doing in here Finn boy?”Arthur asked (if you didn’t know all their names, you had to be incredibly simple).

“Failing to get another bird in your bed?” John smirked.

“Shut up John.” Finn spat.“This is (Y/N), she’s an old friend from school.”

They filtered in. John scoffed.“Surprised you remember anything about school. Have you asked him what five pus five is?”

John and Arthur laughed as they sat down opposite us, Thomas standing besides the window for the drinks. I clasped my hands together as they started to shake out of nerves. I was in a room with the Shelby brothers, the men who ran one of the most feared gangs in England, and I had no clue what to do with myself. 

“Um, I think I should go.” I pathetically mumbled out.

“Don’t be rude Finn,” Thomas said,“show the lovely, young lady out.”

Finn was glaring at his brothers as we stood. I slowed down my steps so I didn’t appear to be running away from them. Finn opened the door for me, and I felt weightless as soon as I stepped out of that room. He followed me out, running a hand down his face.

“I’m sorry about them. They’re just being their usual stupid selves.” he apologised.

“It’s alright, really. Don’t tell them they bothered me or anything because they really didn’t.”

“You don’t have to worry. They won’t do anything to you because we had a drink together.”

“Sorry, just not used to...”

“Meeting a gangster?”

I hummed in agreement.“Yeah.”

“Look, I definitely need to go back in there. But I liked this. Apart from how we bumped into each other.”

“Yes, that could have been different.”

“I would like to do this again though.”

“You would?”

“There you go again, acting all surprised. How about this weekend?”

“I-I’m free this weekend.”

“Great. I’ll pick you up at six on Saturday.” he smiled at me, turning to go back into the private room before calling the bartender.“Oh, Harry, another wine for my friend.”

He winked at me, then disappeared into the room. I heard heckling and teasing from his brothers. I could feel that my cheeks were heating up from blushing, though I also couldn’t help but smile. Thanking the bartender for the wine, I quickly took it, freezing when I saw my friends staring at me. Sighing, I took a big gulp of the drink before making my way towards them. This was going to be a longer night than I thought.

[rosethornewrites]

hold the bright moon in my arms, ch. 1-2

Relationships: Niè Huáisāng & Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn

Characters: Niè Huáisāng, Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Original Characters

Additional Tags: Pining, Feelings Realization, Illnesses, ennui, Found Family, Porn Reading, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Manipulative Niè Huáisāng, Memories, Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn Needs a Hug, Post-Canon, Pining Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Friendship, Niè Huáisāng Is A Little Shit, POV Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, POV Third Person, Qi Deviation, Resentful Energy 

Second in the like mayflies wandering series. First fic is a grain of millet drifting.

Summary: Visiting Qinghe, Wei Wuxian tries to find peace, balance, and purpose. Nie Huaisang is not entirely helpful with this. Set largely CQL, but with frankencanon. Written for @wwxadhd​ in the @wangxiangiftexchange​ for Winter Solstice.

AO3 link

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Pretty much the only time Wei Wuxian spent in the Unclean Realm was during the Sunshot campaign, which wasn’t the best time for him or for the place. He was honestly glad his memory of the time was fairly spotty, owing in part to spending it as drunk as possible—it gave him the ability to make better memories instead of being immersed in those of war and death and grave dirt. 

Nie Huaisang calling over the wall when they moved out for him, no one else, to take care, was one of a few that weren’t a blur of blood and pain. His friend, he knew now, was aware something was wrong, even if he didn’t know what, and apparently aside from wanting his brother safe, Wei Wuxian was one of the few others in the jianghu who held that perhaps dubious honor. 

While his old friend had gained a reputation over the years as a know-nothing pitiful fop of a leader, he knew full well how carefully curated that image was after the fall of Jin Guangyao, knew better than anyone not to trust the assumptions of the cultivation world and gentry—who had, after all, painted him as a grave-robbing cannibal who stole children in the night, when in fact he’d been farming and trying to help a group of elderly refugees (and one child) survive at barely-subsistence level. 

It was actually somewhat impressive that they managed to get one out of three right, though just thinking that put him off meat several days, made him don the warmest robes Nie Huaisang had supplied for him. For many reasons, he preferred to keep the memories associated with his first time in the Burial Mounds firmly locked away. 

He was grateful Nie Huaisang didn’t pry, just had the kitchens make more dishes with tofu and, when he requested, multiple potato-based dishes. If he knew what put Wei Wuxian off meat, he never said, never even looked at him with pity—just accepted it and accommodated. It was possible he had guessed the reason, but Wei Wuxian appreciated his discretion. 

Contrary to what outsiders might assume, Nie Huaisang was a formidable and capable leader, knowing when to delegate tasks not in his wheelhouse to his many able disciples, who all seemed to adore him as more of a didi than a zongzhu. It was a fascinating relationship, one borne out of love in a way Wei Wuxian wasn’t sure was even possible for other sects, making it more of a found family. 

Unfortunately, he was also busy in the aftermath of his arrival, his spies reporting in constantly for things that he insisted needed to be handled in private. He could understand Nie Huaisang’s desire to work without him interrupting, and was happy not to get involved—he’d rather not be too involved with the jianghu, anyway. However, it meant Wei Wuxian was left somewhat aimless, and trying not to let himself get bored. Even Wei Wuxian knew that a bored Wei Wuxian was a troublemaking Wei Wuxian. 

He only found himself at loose ends the first couple of days, doted on with the best available, whether it was food, as much talisman paper and art supplies as he could ever need, a pouch of tael and an open invitation to have a bevy of eager disciples accompany him to the market, a bed more comfortable than any he had ever slept in (save perhaps the jingshi), and soft, warm robes cut and dyed with Qinghe colors but for red accents the color of his ribbon… 

He wasn’t stupid; he knew these details meant Nie Huaisang had been planning and preparing for his visit for some time, perhaps as long as he’d been alive again. If not longer. 

Then when he was wandering the halls, the stony dank dimness of the Unclean Realm too much like that of the Demon Slaughtering Cave, feeling lost, a popo took his arm and led him to a crèche, multiple colorful rooms filled with children of all ages, some, he learned, orphans from the street.

“There are no street children in Qinghe,” the popo told him when he expressed surprise. “Zongzhu won’t permit it. If they can cultivate and wish to, they can become disciples. Otherwise they learn a trade.”

Another aspect, it seemed, of the Nie clan found family. 

The operation was impressive, with educational areas for all ages, stations for play, stimulation, and learning, all designed to help the children find an interest that could become a career while playing. 

“Zongzhu seeks street kids wherever he is, and brings them here,” a girl about A-Yuan’s age with a scar across most of one cheek told him. “I’m from Lanling. Mama was a prostitute.”

When her mother was dying and she was just a toddler, she said, she scarred her daughter’s face so she couldn’t become one herself, hoping she would have a better life as a servant. Instead the brothel owner threw her out once her mother was dead, just shy of four years old and still injured. 

“I would’ve died in the gutter if Zongzhu hadn’t found me and brought me here.”

The girl had silver eyes and features that indicated who her father may have been, but she had taken the Nie name. She only helped at the crèche when her disciple duties permitted. 

She seemed keen to talk to him about the crèche, unafraid despite knowing who he was and his reputation, which was refreshing among the sects. 

Nie Huaisang, as it turned out, ran a network of people who brought him street kids from all over the jianghu, too. He paid them for each child they brought to the Unclean Realm, so it was a little like bounty hunting but meant to make lives better. Sometimes parents sold their own children to the Nie, and he permitted this, reasoning it was better for the child and the parents, who potentially had too many mouths to feed and would otherwise sell their children into prostitution or servitude. Sometimes an older child who was recently orphaned in nearby towns and villages would make their own way to the Unclean Realm, at times with younger siblings, word having spread that there was a good place to go. Wei Wuxian was certain some were likely runaways, escaping terrible pasts and families, but Nie Huaisang wouldn’t mind that either. 

The crèche was wonderful for reasons that layered on themselves but amounted to his own orphanhood, and how much different life could have been had such a place existed when his parents died—all wrapped up in things he didn’t want to think about. Bittersweet, in a way, not that he would ever begrudge these children this happiness and stability. 

A toddler wandered past him, waving a grass butterfly, and it was all the world like watching tiny Wen Yuan putter around with his own in the Burial Mounds, and all at once it was too much. 

A-Yuan, who Lan Zhan rescued and made Lan Yuan. Lan Sizhui, whose name was like a declaration of something Wei Ying couldn’t figure out. 

A-Yuan, who grew into an upright and righteous young man, without Wei Wuxian. He’d missed all those years, and there was no getting them back.

When he left Gusu, A-Yuan had not yet returned from his journey to Dafan with Wen Ning. There was so much to catch up on, but he didn’t know if he had the right to impose on Lan Sizhui, whose reputation would be better off if he didn’t associate with the Yiling Laozu, whether his name was partially cleared. 

He retreated to his quarters, his peace broken by a ghost of memory, and made use of the high-quality paper and paints that had been in his room when he arrived. Wei Wuxian was only half-aware of what he was painting, and when he was able to focus again he found it was a watercolor of A-Yuan, when he was a toddler, and Wen Qing, the latter handing him a grass butterfly with a faint smile, the former grinning off the paper. 

When it was dry, he bundled it up to send to the Cloud Recesses for Lan Sizhui. The youth was only just regaining his memories of those precious stolen years of life, and it could help spark memories of his gugu. She deserved to be remembered. 

At dinner, he asked Nie Huaisang to send it. His old friend requested to see his work, and Wei Wuxian saw no reason to deny him. 

“Skillfully painted, Wei-xiong.”

It was, disappointingly, all the feedback he got after a long moment of studied silence, at least until they were in the cups after dinner. 

“I tried to talk to Dage. Then I tried to use my spies to smuggle her out, but it was too late. I’m glad the boy survived.”

Wei Wuxian hadn’t been aware Nie Huaisang knew Lan Sizhui was A-Yuan, but that made it clear. 

“I didn’t know Hanguang-Jun had saved him, not until later. They were careful, thank the heavens.”

Or the jianghu would have called for a toddler’s blood, he means, Wei Wuxian knows. If they came to know, they still might, but he knew Lan Zhan would destroy anyone who tried.

If anyone tried, Wei Wuxian would ensure they never reincarnated. He could become the monster they expected, if it meant protecting A-Yuan. 

Wei Wuxian eventually asked about the crèche, mentioning the girl he met. Nie Huaisang looked pensive, taking a deep drink of liquor before answering. 

“It started right after you, well… She was the first. I came across her in an alley in Lanling at the next discussion conference. They were celebrating and I needed air… and I couldn’t just leave her. Dage was just glad I was taking interest in something, so he let me bring her home.”

He was quiet for a long time, and Wei Wuxian could imagine much of what he wasn’t saying. 

“Her mother named her Wei, 维, like her name would safeguard her. I gave her the courtesy name Yingwei, 英维—you know we Nie give them to female cultivators just like male. I told her she could be a hero and save others as a cultivator, and she took the Nie name when she became a disciple.”

Wei Wuxian nearly choked on his wine. No wonder the girl had been comfortable talking to him—she’d been named in his honor. He didn’t really know how to feel about that; first Sizhui, now Nie Yingwei. 

“I just kept bringing them home when I encountered them, got some grandmothers whose kids died in the Sunshot Campaign to move to the Unclean Realm and work with them, hired tutors, and it just kind of took off from there.”

He didn’t bring up the girl again, just told him about how he expanded it to women and children escaping abuse, even former prostitutes. 

“We even ran across some of those awful trafficking rings—those ones that steal kids and women and sell them into slavery—and got rid of them. I’m not good at cultivation or fighting, but this was something I could do to make the world a better place, like you and Hanguang-Jun. The jianghu saw it as a frivolous thing since it didn’t involve improving life for the gentry. And Jing Guangshan hated it, but he couldn’t do anything about it even as Chief Cultivator.”

It was a conversation far more serious than most he’d had with Nie Huaisang, who seemed almost embarrassed by what he perceived as only a minor thing. 

Wei Wuxian disagreed entirely, and refreshed both of their cups of wine. 

“To making the world a better place, through cultivation or administration,” he said, holding his cup up in a toast. “And to giving orphans family.”

Nie Huaisang smiled, raising his cup and drinking deeply, and conversation turned to more trivial matters, with his old friend decrying how much amazing poetry and literature he’d missed while he was dead, insisting Wei Wuxian visit the library in the coming days. 

Once they were deeper in their cups, Nie Huaisang turned back into the boy he once knew, no trace of the manipulator, complaining at length about the duties he couldn’t delegate that prevented him from painting and reading spring books as he wished. 

“Ah, I have so many I haven’t gotten to read yet! I got my hands on a rare cutsleeve series, even, and it’s just gathering dust.”

That brought to memory the book of cutsleeve porn he’d pranked Lan Zhan with back before the war in the library. 

Nie Huaisang remembered that, too. 

“You never did get to read that one,” he said, lolling in his seat. “I did replace it, so you should finally get the chance.”

Wei Wuxian could only laugh and help his far-too-drunk friend to his quarters, handing him off to a servant who looked at his zongzhu with fond exasperation. 

The next day after the midday meal, Wei Wuxian found a stack of cutsleeve spring books on the desk in his room, including the series Nie Huaisang must have been referring to. 

It was entitled “Unity: The Lords of Light and Dark.”

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Yingwei is using the character 英 for hero/brave and 维 for safeguard. Wei has a different pronunciation from the wei in Wei Wuxian’s name. Ying has the same intonation. 

wangxianling on Twitter has an amazing thread discussing the meaning of Chen Qing Ling, and mentioned that the chen in 陈情 (chenqing) has the same tonal pronunciation as the chen in Bichen (避尘), and bichen(qing) = Bichen; (bi)chenqing = chenqing; you in me and me in you, unity, when you swap the chen characters. Hence the title of the cutsleeve porn. There’s more in the thread that’s pretty interesting, but I wanted an homage to mxtx there.

Of course, the series was commissioned by a certain someone. He commissioned graphic novel fanfiction of his favorite couple that never was. Because nhs may be a manipulator, but he’s also a sap. 

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Chapter 2

Wei Wuxian opened the first book to a random page, curious, and immediately slammed it shut again, his face hot. 

The Lord of Light didn’t just share Lan Zhan’s title, as he had first expected; instead the character was modeled after Lan Zhan entirely—and he somehow doubted anyone asked his permission! 

He was certain they didn’t, because the Lord of Dark was modeled after him, including that damn title ‘Yiling Patriarch,’ though they’d certainly not realized the scars Wei Wuxian had carried at the end of his first life. 

He didn’t think anyone would have managed to see either of them naked. Some of it had to be the stuff of fantasy, but their likeness was unmistakable. 

And he’d opened it to a page where they were… they were…

Yes, definitely some things were the stuff of fantasy, if proportions were any indication, he thought. 

Still, the image was burned into his brain, seared into his heart like a brand. 

Nie Huaisang had said it was rare, which made sense. He could imagine Lan Qiren hunting down copies and burning them in outrage, which was actually something of a funny image. 

Did people actually think they were…? Was this some strange fixation in the world that he’d managed not to encounter? 

And, oh gods, did Lan Zhan know? Was that why he’d let Wei Wuxian leave?

Wei Wuxian felt unmoored, the world scrutinizing him again, and that image…

It was as though he’d managed, all this time and through both lives, not to examine his sort-of obsession with Lan Zhan and what it might mean, and now with that door so firmly shut, when his reputation would only hurt the Chief Cultivator, seeing that…

How could so many people know how Wei Wuxian felt before he did?

He felt scrutinized by the world, flayed open and raw for all to see in a way he had not felt since the confrontation at the Guanyin Temple and the realization that Wen Ning had told Jiang Cheng about the golden core transfer. 

It felt like a million voices screaming in his ears, like the resentful spirits trapped in the Seal, in Burial Mounds, or like he was surrounded by enemies shouting at him. 

Noise registered around him, his name, maybe, but he couldn’t focus. A needle pricked his neck, and he recognized it as the prelude to oblivion and welcomed the darkness as it came. 

——

When he opened his eyes, he found himself in an infirmary, Nie Huaisang beside him looking distraught. 

“Wei-xiong, Wei-xiong, you’re awake!”

A healer rushed in, followed by several assistants, and they poked and prodded him and shushed Nie Huaisang while examining him. 

Wei Wuxian wasn’t quite sure why he ended up here, and when he tried to piece it together he remembered the book…

“I’m sorry, Wei-xiong! I didn’t think the books would cause you to have a qi deviation!”

The words startled him out of another potential spiral. 

Qi deviation? Well, that explained why he felt like shit. He hadn’t felt pain like this since near the end of his first life, when just existing was exhausting. 

“I didn’t think I was far enough along in cultivating my jindan for that,” he said, as it was the second thing to pop into his head. 

He barely had a jindan, after all, just a fledgling tiny thing. Wei Wuxian wasn’t an expert in jindan, but he hadn't thought one so small would be subject to a qi deviation. 

“A mild qi deviation,” the healer clarified crisply. “And you flooded your quarters with resentful energy.”

“Scared the crap out of the servants,” another voice added. 

Wei Wuxian turned to find Nie Hengxiang at the door, looking unnaturally tense—wouldn’t it figure if this scared the teen away?

“They thought one of your experiments got you,” he said. “Glad it wasn’t worse.”

Nie Huaisang was practically wringing his hands. 

“I didn’t think you’d react like that, Wei-Xiong,” he murmured, and Wei Wuxian could see his distress was no act. “I just thought a little nudge…”

The world felt fuzzy again as he realized Nie Huaisang had done this intentionally. His throat burned and he coughed, spraying flecks of blood against his palm. The healers fluttered around him, but what drew him back to himself was Nie Hengxiang’s hand gripping his shoulder. 

“Wei-qianbei, breathe.”

Oh, maybe the kid wasn’t scared of him, after all? The thought brought the world back into focus. 

“—told you he was likely delicate after being brought back from the dead,” the healer was lecturing Nie Huaisang. “No more undue stress!”

Nie Huaisang took it, looking for all the world like a scolded child. 

“Nie-xiong,” he started, but his voice was barely a croak. 

A healer pressed a cup of tea in his hand, and when he sipped he found it had honey and soothed his throat. He cleared it and tried again. 

“Nie-xiong, just how rare is that series?”

If anything, Nie Huaisang looked more dejected. 

“It’s the only copy,” he admitted after shuffling guiltily. “I commissioned it. Before. I thought we’d have a good laugh when the Wens and you were safe and you and Lan Wangji married, but it never happened.”

Wei Wuxian’s head throbbed. At least this likely meant that what he’d only come to realize for himself wasn’t some spectacle for the common people. That it wasn’t why Lan Zhan hadn’t asked him to stay—he’d almost certainly never seen this copy or it’d be in shreds. 

Which is where it would be if it was still in his quarters when he returned. 

“Hide it well, or there will be none,” he finally said, deciding to give him the benefit of the doubt. “And just talk next time? No more games. I’m so tired of games.”

He winced when his voice broke on the last word, maybe emphasizing a bit too well how wrung out he felt. 

Nie Huaisang nodded almost frantically, and only put up minor resistance when the healer who had been scolding him herded him toward the door like some sort of wayward child. 

Nie Hengxiang patted his back with almost comical gentleness before following, and Wei Wuxian consigned himself to the prodding of the healers, the bitter medicine, and tried not to think of Wen Qing. 

It was nearly two days, most of it spent in a drugged sleep to promote healing, the damage to his meridians being repaired by healers as he slept, before he was cleared to leave the healing ward, though he had several visitors in his waking hours—including Nie Hengxiang, who told him how they had cleared the resentful energy from his quarters using some old talismans he’d designed for removing it from land so the Wen remnants could plant crops, and Nie Yingwei, who brought card games and beat him soundly at each one and made no mention of anything but the silly antics of the children at the crèche. 

Nie Huaisang escorted him to his quarters personally, looking somewhat frazzled. While his old friend had visited him, they had not yet discussed what he had wanted to ‘nudge’ and why. 

When they arrived, he found it well-stocked with Emperor’s Smile, and he turned a questioning gaze to Nie Huaisang, who fidgeted with his fan for a moment. 

“The Chief Cultivator sent it to me, since Qinghe is hosting you.”

Wei Wuxian wasn’t sure what to make of that, but there were several unopened letters on the desk, and he recognized Lan Zhan’s handwriting among them even from a distance. 

When they were seated at the low table in his greeting area, with tea and and cakes (no wine, as he was banned for the next week by the healers), he sipped his tea idly and waited for Nie Huaisang to crack.

It didn’t even take a ke. 

“I really thought you’d stay in Gusu with Hanguang-Jun,” he started. “I thought you two had finally cleared things up, and then my spies reported you left.”

‘Cleared things up’ seemed to belong with ‘nudge,’ and merited further exploration, but Wei Wuxian left it for now. 

“And they said I was in danger,” he prompted. 

Huaisang looked cagey for a moment, then sighed. 

“No. I just know how the gentry are, so I sent A-Xiang to shadow you. I hate that I was right.”

A knock at the door interrupted them, and a servant entered with a tureen of hearty vegetable soup, along with Healer Nie carrying a bowl of medicine. Wei Wuxian was impressed with their diligence; despite the qi deviation, his meridians felt in better shape than they had been since the core transfer, since before the Burial Mounds and being flooded with resentful energy. 

He took the bitter concoction in one long draught, a skill tempered at the hands of Wen Qing, and was happy to follow it with stew, focusing on eating. 

As expected, Nie Huaisang continued unprompted once they were alone. 

“But you and Wangji-xiong… All those years, I thought you’d wind up together.”

Nie Huaisang’s tone lilted in question, and Wei Wuxian mulled a response over a bite of stew. 

“He sees me as a friend, I hope,” he settled on. 

His old friend made a choking sound, and he looked up to see an aghast expression on his face, one purely authentic and definitely unmasked. 

“Wei-xiong, he wore mourning white the entire time you were dead. He wouldn’t look or speak to Jiang-xiong,” Nie Huaisang said slowly, and Wei Wuxian felt a little talked down to. “He raised your son.”

“A-Yuan isn’t my son,” he deflected, setting his spoon down lest it shake in his hand, not quite sure how to handle these revelations. 

Sure, he’d joked that Lan robes were like mourning robes, but that was a bit of a stretch. And who knew what had happened between Lan Zhan and Jiang Cheng—Jiang-zongzhu or Jiang Wanyin, he reminded himself; what right did he have to call him so intimately? For that matter, what gave him the right to call Hanguang-Jun intimately?

“And Lan Z—Lan Wangji was just doing the right thing.”

Nie Huaisang let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a growl, his fan raised as though he intended to use it as a weapon. 

“He’s in love with you, you—you…”

The fan lowered, but Wei Wuxian barely noticed, too startled by Nie Huaisang’s words, said with such certainty.

“You really don’t know, do you?”

Wei Wuxian focused on his face again, only to see a look of profound pity. 

“Wei-xiong, your Lan Wangji has been in love with you since the lectures. Erge worried, the entire time you were gone, that he’d grieve the rest of his life. I eavesdropped on him and Dage enough to hear all about it.”

Wei Wuxian could only sit numbly as Nie Huaisang outlined how Lan Zhan wanted to bring him back to the Cloud Recesses, to hide and protect him; how Lan Xichen had worried he could become their father; how he’d found Lan Zhan, drunk and barely conscious and seeking Chenqing, the fresh Wen brand burned into his chest; how Lan Zhan had barely spoken to anyone older than those who were children when the Siege of Burial Mounds occurred, blaming all disciples who took part as culpable in Wei Wuxian’s death; how Erge knew the Lan love curse would mean he would never love again, spend his life alone; how Lan Zhan blamed Jiang Cheng for his death and no meeting between the two went well, so often leading to troubled relations between the sects that it had led to what Erge called the Wangji Protocol, enlisting A-Yuan and Lan Jingyi to help handle such situations, which certainly explained the show at Dafan Mountain…

Lan Zhan hadn’t wanted to punish him? was really the first reaction he had.

And apparently he said that out loud because Nie Huaisang scoffed.

“Not at all. He knew the gentry would turn on you, that you weren’t safe. That you would rub them wrong and become a target. Hell, I knew that and there wasn’t anything I could do to stop it, either!”

Something in his voice caught Wei Wuxian’s attention, the end almost a wail, and he refocused to find Nie Huaisang fighting tears. Then he recognized the regret, the guilt, and he was reminded again that his old friend had singled him out as they rode to war, calling to him and him only to take care. Like he’d known, even back then. 

He knew Lan Zhan carried guilt from his confession when he was drunk during their travels, but he’d had no idea Nie Huaisang felt similarly. 

A part of him wondered if Jiang Cheng also felt that way. 

“Hey,” he said, reaching out to put his hand on Nie Huaisang’s shoulders. “Nie-xiong, don’t do that. Nothing could have been done. I knew I was on borrowed time when I dragged myself out of the Burial Mounds, and still I got more than I expected.”

He knew immediately it was the wrong thing to say, Nie Huaisang crumpling against him and letting out a sob against his shoulder in a display that shows what the naming of Nie Yingwei already made clear. That his friend had missed him dearly, had believed in him, that he was no monster. That he had more people who had grieved him than he expected.

Mianmian’s face somehow came to mind, the joy and relief at seeing him pop up from behind the haystack. 

More people, indeed. He thought perhaps he should write her, maybe strike up a correspondence. 

Nie Huaisang’s crying was nothing like the display he’d made in Carp Tower, and felt like years of pent-up grief. Carrying this, it seemed amazing he hadn’t broken down in the inn after Lan Zhan caught him, knowing who he was, that it hadn’t blown all his plans apart. 

All he could really do was pat his back and make awkward comforting noises, so he did.  

Eventually his friend subsided and sat back, looking embarrassed.

“I knew something was wrong, but not what. I honestly didn’t think it was the Burial Mounds. I didn’t think even you could make it out, despite the rumors. When I heard Wen Qionglin’s words, everything made so much sense.”

Wei Wuxian realized he must have seen the confrontation at Lotus Pier, likely sneaking around. So he knew the truth as well, of the transfer. The truth that only Jin Guangyao had ever guessed. Or, worse, it was a spy who related it to him. 

How many people knew?

He felt raw, like a patch of skin healing from a scrape. 

“Wei-xiong, your nose.”

Nie Huaisang let out a concerned noise, reaching forward with a cloth to dab at his nose, the fabric coming away stained with blood. His hands fluttered a bit as though he was uncertain what to do, then he rushed to the door, opening it to yell for someone to get a healer before rushing back. 

Wei Wuxian sagged a little, wrung out. He didn’t feel like he was having a qi deviation, which he knew Nie Huaisang thought. Just tired, so tired. A little like he did at Lotus Pier before…

———

Darkness ebbed and he found himself on his bed, a concerned healer leaning over him, examining his eyes as he came to. Behind her, Nie Huaisang was hovering, fan fluttering anxiously. The woman made a considering noise before returning her attention to the herbs she was grinding with a mortar and pestle. 

Her explanation had to do with the heart governing the blood—his emotional state had overwhelmed his heart and overheated his blood, hence the nosebleed. Only a slight disharmony in qi, not a deviation. 

Not that a disharmony wasn’t dangerous, he knew, as any could become worse, as his last one had. Deviations happened when a disharmony was too powerful, just a result of that disharmony. It meant he would need regulation through meditation and medicine until the root cause was healed.

“I’ll speak to the kitchen about adding more yin foods to your diet and removing yang. Which means no alcohol or chili sauce, Wei-gongzi.”

For a moment Wei Wuxian wanted to laugh at the idea of the Yiling Patriarch needing yin foods, but he also suddenly realized the only way he’ll ever eat spice again is if he talked with Lan Zhan. And maybe, given the incident at Lotus Pier, Jiang Cheng. He didn’t know which was more fraught. 

He could get used to bland food… but the doctor was explaining his dietary restrictions to Nie Huaisang and the list was all rabbit food, and a wave of homesickness washed through him, all of it reminding him of the food at the Cloud Recesses, of Lan Zhan. 

Who was apparently… in love with him?

Nie Huaisang had gained a reputation as a know-nothing, but Wei Wuxian knew he was anything but. The man had traded in information dancing on the edge of a knife blade for the last decade, so it stood to reason that his information would be accurate. 

At the same time, having only just figured out his own feelings, it was hard to come to terms with all he’d learned and actually believe it. 

“The Cloud Recesses has texts on healing disharmony,” he tuned back in to hear the healer say. “Zongzhu, you should write to Hanguang-Jun.”

He glanced at Nie Huaisang, who was cowering a bit. 

“If he knows Wei-xiong had a qi deviation because of me, he’ll kill me!” he wailed.

Lan Zhan had been protective of him the entire quest to find the rest of Nie Mingjue’s body, and particularly in hindsight there were moments that now flustered him—his joke about getting undressed in the street to prove the curse mark was under control, for instance. Now the brief look Lan Zhan had given him, his eyes raking up and down his body, had a whole different context, one that made his face burn. 

He really hadn’t intended to be that shameless. 

Wei Wuxian sighed, knowing there was no getting around it. 

“And if he knows I had one and you didn’t tell him, what would he do?”

Nie Huaisang paled, fidgeting with his fan, before ultimately deflating. 

“Just… distract him?” he pleaded, and then a sly little grin ghosted across his face. “Well, you probably won’t be able to help but distract him!”

Something in his tone implied how, and his waggling brows made the meaning clearer. 

Face on fire, Wei Wuxian grabbed the nearest thing, which turned out to be a candlestick, and threw it at Nie Huaisang, who dodged easily and danced from the room with a giggle. 

The healer muttered half-hearted obscenities and complaints about her childish zongzhu under her breath as she made him rest back again and went back to preparing medicine, leaving him with his thoughts. 

Tian na, this meant Lan Zhan would likely come to Qinghe, he realized, which was what Nie Huaisang had been referencing in his teasing. He flung his arm over his face with a groan. 

It was a relief when the healer assumed he had a headache and gave him a medicine that made him sleep, giving him respite from having to think about it for now.

------

Lots of reference to traditional Chinese medicine in here. 

Tian na is similar to “oh heavens/oh god.”

[theelvenhaven]

Elves Reacting To Your Period

Imladris

Elrond

Elrond is an ellon expert knowledge of healing, humans and had a sibling who chose a mortal life. Let alone making Imladris a haven for all races and walks of life- that were peaceful, of course. So you wouldn’t be the first menstruating human he’s been around. He is completely and utterly supportive yet subtle and discreet knowing that this is a delicate time for you. As well as possibly embarrassing to make a tremendous fuss over it.

Elrond discreetly brings you pain relievers, has soothing teas prepared for you, checks in on you when he has the time available. The Healer in him brings him to fret over you some, and should your pain be severe, he is quick to alleviate it. He’s had thousands of years to assist with such things, and you being his partner, he will more than happily help you. He will also make sure any menstrual products are there at your immediate disposal. 

Elrond is very gentle with you, being sure to provide you with the emotional and mental comfort that you might need during the day. Making himself far more available through your period if he can help it, wanting to make sure you have the proper support you need. Saving any physical comforts for later when you two can be alone properly and uninterrupted.

Glorfindel

This warm ball of sunshine isn’t entirely clueless about humans and their menstruation cycles. He has spent little of his time around it or reading about it. While logically he knows you menstruate, it surprises Glorfindel the first time he encounters it with you. Glorfindel is worried he has hurt you somehow or another, even if the placing of blood on your clothes and sheets show that he couldn’t possibly have hurt you.

Glorfindel is quick to try to get you to a healer or a healer to you, wanting to make sure you are in fact okay. Though when you explain to him that partially, you are okay and that the bleeding is normal; he is quick to simmer down. The ease with which you speak of it is what brings him to trust you on it, and he attentively listens to you. Glorfindel also asks you a lot of questions about it, as it is human men he is used to being around, so his knowledge about your reproductive health is not extensive. He is also quick to help you clean up any sheets or clothes that need to be taken care of, or take over gathering the items while you clean and situate yourself.

Glorfindel will do what he can to take some time off during your worst days of menstruation and is unfortunately not exactly tactful about it at first. You will have to tell him if it bothers you, in the event you find it embarrassing, as he has no shame in announcing it. Because he will straightforwardly tell them “Y/N is menstruating I am afraid I am unavailable until further notice.”. Once you tell him, Glorfindel will keep that talk between you, him and the Healers if need be. When he can’t be there with you, he instead sends a healer in to check on you and bring you the things you need.

Erestor

Erestor is extremely knowledgeable and has spent a copious amount of time absorbing everything there is too in the library. Even on healing subjects, no matter how gruesome or unusual they may seem to him. But with dealing with menstruation... Well, that is a completely different story. Erestor won’t make a massive fuss over you being on your period, but he is entirely flustered by what you are going through. 

At first he genuinely doesn’t know what to do. He never imagined he would have to deal with a menstruating human. Even when he started courting you. But Erestor is very technical and by the book- literally here. So he does what he thinks anyone should do, and goes to reference his books quietly and away from prying eyes.Erestor is extremely discreet about helping you, keeping the matter very private. Don’t mistake this for him being ashamed of you, he is far from ashamed of your bodily function. Erestor is just a very private ellon. 

He places a few orders for a dozen or more every month, for pain relievers to be kept in your shared chambers at all times. Stashed away in your desk drawers too so they are readily available and you or him aren’t having to haul off to the Healing Halls all the time. Quietly he will consult Elrond- the only other elf he will tell about it- if he feels like he isn’t doing enough until he gets the hang of helping you. If your pain and discomfort is severe, Erestor- while one for privacy- will go with you to the Healing Halls and explain the matter to them. Diligently sticking by your side and listening intently for care instructions and how to help you further.

Lindir

Lindir is completely and utterly flustered when he discovers that you are menstruating. It is not that he is doing it to make you feel bad- which only makes him feel worse when he sees his embarrassment is distressing you- it’s that he just doesn’t know what to do. Seeing the blood on the sheets and on your clothes makes him feel faint as are you hurt? But then you explain its your period?

Of course he knows what a period is from what he has overheard when coming to see Elrond in the Healing Halls. But that doesn’t make him any less uncomfortable about it. He is stammers and stutters asking questions and is bright cherry red trying to figure out what to do next. Despite all this fuss he has stirred up, Lindir is really supportive. Just the first few times this is what you will encounter. With him profusely apologizing for embarrassing you or distressing you. 

Trying to help somehow, nervously going down to the healers or Elrond for the things you need while you tidy up. Elrond swore the first time he came to him and had to talk to him about it, that he was going to faint over the ordeal. Elrond made him sit an extra ten minutes until he could calm down and send him back to you. On his way back, Lindir sends for someone to fix you your favorite meal and may grab a flower or two as an overly sweet gesture to apologize with the pain reliever in hand. In time, every time you have your period, he gives you a flower with your first meal after he sees how happy it makes you the first time.  

Elrohir

While Elrohir is used to being around humans, them being menstruating humans is a completely different subject. As it is, he is already pretty protective over you and your well being, especially since you’re human and considers you to be more fragile. So when you wake up and are bleeding or have bled through your clothes and maybe even on him, worried is a very simple way of putting it. He certainly makes a fuss over it between you both!

While being such a great healer himself, he is ready to give you an exam from head to toe and figure out why and where you are bleeding. When you tell him what your period is, and its purpose, Elrohir’s visibly relieved that no, it is not life threatening. And grateful that no he didn’t sleep through you getting hurt- as he is a heavy sleeper. Though he voices his concerns that you are now physically uncomfortable. But like his father, Elrohir is quick to use his skills in healing to good use to help ease your pains and discomforts. Making and bringing you tonics and pain relievers and anything you need to ease the nuisance of your menstruation. 

Elrohir will prefer that you take time off from any work and take time off his own duties to be with you when he’s in Imladris. Like this goes without question and there is no making him change his mind, every single month. Without fail Elrohir takes that week off to be with you. Even if you tell him you will be fine, Elrohir is taking the time off regardless and will absolutely even go as far as to delay his leavings with the Rangers until the time has passed. He’s happy to hold you and kiss all over you and lounge around with you if that makes you feel better. He’ll read softly to you, or comfort you through such tough emotional difficulties, and most definitely not skip over any whims you may have for food. 

Elladan

Like Elrohir, he isn’t used to be around menstruating humans at all. Though he is far more laid back compared to his brother. So rather than making a huge fuss about your menstruation, Elladan will ask you seriously if you are okay and carry on as if it were not really a big deal. Making a few light hearted jokes to keep your mood up if he can tell it is negatively affecting you.

Elladan will help you clean things up without question. The sheets are dirty and you’re embarrassed? No big deal, you can’t help it. Elladan just carries on normalizing these instances for you entirely, as he just wants you to be comfortable with him. I headcanon that while Elladan does and can heal, making tonics/pain relievers aren’t his strong suit and he will definitely ask his brother to do so for you. 

Elladan is laid back, so if you need anything from him you can most certainly tell him and he will do it without question. You want alone time because you’re furious? No big deal, he will back in an hour or two. You want him all to yourself all day? You’ve got it. It embarrasses you to go to the healing halls for menstruation products? Say no more, Elladan is already halfway down the hall to get it for you. 

Bonus:

Haldir

Haldir is no stranger to blood or humans and their customs and bodily functions. So when you menstruate the first time while together, he completely and totally expected it to happen. It was inevitable, but that doesn’t mean that he knows everything you need. Haldir knows that pain is something that generally seems to be an issue for menstruating humans and is at least prepared for that much.

He asks you what all you need while bringing you a vial of pain reliever he has stored in talan or on his person specifically for you. Telling you not to fuss with anything other than yourself, if it's like a bedroll or comforter you’ve bled over. The ellon knows how to get blood out of fabric and will first handle the list of things you need and then tend to the stained fabric. Haldir will go and fetch the things you need without batting an eyelash, and he just brushes any of the healer's concerns aside. 

Even if they offer to help, he just shrugs away their words, knowing you’ll go to them if you need it and that there is no sense and making a big deal over something so normal for you. Haldir will listen to all of your woes about it, comforting you even in his more subtle ways however he can. Holding your hand, rubbing your back, and in private holding you close. Haldir though will just tell you flat out to do something that will help you if he knows you are putting it off or have forgotten. Unperturbed by the conversation or needing to help you when he’s around and not on patrol.

* * * 

tags:

@saviorsong​ @lilmelily​ @dicksoutformtl​ @fandomhoe101​ @icarus-fell-in-spring​ @iwenttomordor​ @red-riding​ @elarinya-nailo​

[gothwives]

winnie was no stranger to yearning, but her infatuation with jude was downright painful. at best, it had brought her a sense of hope to aspire to a grander life when she was in her adolescence, dreaming of the places she might go, the things she might achieve. even if she didn't have the opportunity to bring her dreams to fruition then, she still had plenty time, and everything felt possible. now, though, that fantasizing only served to emphasize just how doomed she truly was. still young in the grand scheme of things, she might as well have been a spinster in her small town, in her mid-twenties and still unwed, and with not even a high school diploma to her name, there was little she could do with her life other than what she was already doing. her crush on jude had been a much needed distraction, something frivolous to focus on other than the crushing weight of hopelessness, but it'd become too real. the more she realized she needed him, the more it sunk in that she'd never be able to have him, and it hurt. perhaps he was acting in her best interest by giving her no warmth to feed off, as it might be easier for her to disengage, but all it did was make her pine that much harder for the way he used to treat her. the way he treated her that one fateful night, specifically. it wasn't her intention, but the tears succeeded in softening his cold demeanor, and she couldn't help the way her heart flipped when he got down on her level, reaching out to touch her shoulder. "it's not alright! i don't feel ok, i feel awful." her tone a pathetic whine, winnie felt herself unraveling at the seams, that image of a carefree, happy-go-lucky young woman she'd taken great pains to adopt swiftly fading to reveal the insecure, frightened girl underneath. not cognizant of the rest of the world around her, she was too consumed by her own suffering to consider how the two of them might look to those around them, how the townsfolk were so bored, they'd gossip about anything even slightly out of the ordinary. none of that mattered when she was so focused on jude's presence before her. now that she'd gotten a taste of what it was like to be with him, nothing else could satisfy her, and everything reminded her of what she couldn't have. "yes," she answered swiftly, perking up slightly at the suggestion and finally glancing up to meet his eyes with her own watery pair. "yes please, can we? somewhere private?" it wasn't so she could try and put the moves on him without the prying eyes of outsiders, she truly just wanted to be alone with him so she could express herself freely without fear of eavesdropping. that's what she firmly believed, but she'd be foolish not to assume the allure to try and push him would be too tempting to resist. seeing the change in jude's posture, winnie looked in the direction his gaze had shifted, feeling her heart sink as todd approached. still, she plastered on a fake smile, hoping he wouldn't notice that her eyes were red and puffy, or the faint black smudged on her cheeks. "everythin' alright over here?" the younger man asked, well meaning in his desire to check in on his date and grasping her hand for comfort. "everythin's great, actually!" her voice came out slightly too chipper to be genuine, but she was sure he wouldn't pick up on the artifice. he'd never been the most observant, anyway. "father jude was just tellin' me there's somethin' he wants to show me... inside." her eyes cut to the older man's direction, hoping he'd corroborate her lie. "so we was just gonna... do that. but you should stay here! i think ms. cochran was askin' about ya', you should go say hello!" having covered their tracks, winnie looked up to jude, her source of strength despite her current strife. "should we go then?"

the last thing jude wanted was to cause winnie any distress, he knew he possessed something she wanted but could not have and it gave him no pleasure to withhold it from her, even if he knew it was in her best interest. he wanted her to be happy but it appeared like the one thing he could do to assist in that would only lead them down a path of further destruction. he was acting out of love, whether winnie could see that or not was another story. his stoic expression softened at the reddening of her cheeks, her teary eyes sending a lighting strike of guilt straight to his very core. had he been acting too harsh? he'd only meant to keep her at arms length, not only for his sake but hers as well. he didn't want to humiliate her, or appear as though he was punishing her for desires she'd never asked to have, was he not meant to be a safe space for all those in the community, sinners included? he had promised to be there for her, knowing full well that temptation would still be there and to turn away because she was struggling? it wasn't the right thing to do, even if it encouraged his own sinful behaviour. jude was supposed to be a leader, but what good was he doing if his actions were driven by self-protection, could he be of any help to anyone if he didn't let them close? her sudden influx of tears surprised him and in the midst of the countless questions running through his mind, his instinct was to reach forward and offer comfort, his hand coming to rest innocently on her shoulder and he crouched more to be able to face her. "it's alright, winnie. you're okay." people's gazes tended to linger on him when he was around, a fact that had always made him slightly uncomfortable but had ultimately come to accept, though in that particular moment, he was aware of eyes that might come to linger on the pair of them. the last thing either of them needed was people gossiping or asking questions, even if the worst possibility never came to mind, it was a risk jude wasn't willing for them to take. he wanted to bring his hand up to gently cup winnie's face, bring her face up so she was looking up at him as he wiped her tears away. he couldn't though, the hand on her shoulder was already too much contact and he couldn't appear as though he had favourites, though winnie would probably swell with pride at the notion of him treating her differently to others. "what can i do for you now? do you want to go talk?" talking was probably the last thing they should have been doing under the circumstances but there weren't many other options, he wouldn't leave her alone in such a state, especially when he caused it in part, and he worried what she might do if he did not offer her at least some semblance of what she wanted. noticing that todd was walking over to them, jude straightened up and brought his hand away from winnie's shoulder. he didn't want to lie to the boy and come up with some fake reason to drag winnie away from the celebration but he would if he needed to, a necessary evil; the sort that were becoming more and more common in his life by the day.

[starshine583]

New Girl on the Block (1)

(Hey guys! I finally got around to posting the first chapter of this! I hope you guys enjoy it, and please tell me if you’d liked to be tagged or want to read more! there’s also a mini-series of Journal Entries connected to this fic.)

Ch.2

Chapter 1: Happy Accidents

Rosemary Highschool, a private school for the truly gifted and the rich. Anyone who attended this facility was either poised and reserved, or uptight, or all of the above. Therefore, when a stuttering, stumbling raven-haired girl came tripping through their doors, it was only natural that the students became curious.

Felix couldn’t care less, if he was being honest. The girl was just another student, and he had better things to do than waste his time meddling in the personal life of a complete stranger. 

His friends, however, did not share his sentiment. 

“Did you hear?” Allegra asked as they walked to their lockers, her sky blue eyes wide with delight. She leaned forward slightly to catch a better view of their expressions, causing her golden braid to fall gracefully over her left shoulder. 

“About the new student? Who didn’t?” Claude replied, wearing his usual grin. 

“How do you think she got in?” Allan wondered aloud, fixing the green cap on his head in thought.

Felix rolled his eyes. His friends had always loved picking up on the latest gossip. He never understood why. Take this new student, for example. She hasn’t even finished enrolling in the school yet, but everyone’s already chattering relentlessly about her. Why? Because she was rumored to be clumsy? That was hardly an achievement, let alone something to be talked about by the entire school. So what was all the fuss about?

Allegra gasped, a smile lighting up her soft features. “Oh! We should show her around! This school is huge, so she’ll definitely need a guide. Plus, we can get the first scoop on her.”

“Absolutely not.” Felix finally cut in, giving her a sharp look. He refused to galivant around the school with a complete stranger while his classmates tried to pry into the poor girl’s personal life. 

“We didn’t say you had to go.” Claude pointed out.

“But you should at least say hi.” Allegra hastily added, a motherly tone coming to her voice.

Felix scoffed. Right. He would say ‘hi’, then they would ‘convince’ him to stay- i.e. drag him by the collar -and he would end up going around the school with them anyway. He’d gotten used to their tricks by now.

Allan frowned in disapproval. “Come on, Fe. It’s the polite thing to do. We are her new classmates, after all.”

“Yeah, Fe, don’t be a jerk.”

“When am I ever not a jerk.” Felix retorted.

Claude smirked. “He’s got a point.”

“Felix.” Allegra pressed, fixing him with a stern glare and putting her hands on her hips.

Felix groaned, irritation prickling up to the forefront of his mind. What did it matter if he saw the new student? He wouldn’t be talking with her often, and they would probably meet later on during classes anyway. Why did they have to be so pushy?

He reached up to rub his temples and closed his eyes. If he couldn’t see them, it helped him imagine that they weren’t annoying him to the point of insanity. 

“Alright, fine, but if any of you-”

Felix barely registered the hit. He heard his friends gasp, and the sound of his books and pencils scattering across the floor, and he felt the dull pain of someone smacking into him before he unexpectedly hit the ground.

Then his ears tuned into a light, yet panicked voice.

“I’m so sorry! I can’t believe I just did that- are you hurt? Do I need to call the nurse?”

Someone was talking to him. Well, they were more of rambling, really. 

“Pardon?” He said, interrupting the person’s ramble as he rubbed his back. He glanced up to see a young girl kneeling on the ground in front of him. She was scrambling around on the floor- gathering up his books, he realized -and appeared to be even more disoriented than he was.

His question spooked her, apparently, because she jumped, and her eyes darted upwards. They were an overwhelming blue, bright and sparkling despite being filled with anxiety at the moment. 

“I-I’m sorry!” She repeated, briefly setting the books down so she could nervously pull on the tips of her raven-colored pigtails.

Felix’s eyes widened. 

Raven.

Claude stifled a laugh behind him. 

“It’s not a problem.” Felix sighed, swiftly taking his books back from her and moving to retrieve the others. This was exactly what he had wanted to avoid. 

The ravenette furrowed her eyebrows, now bringing her hands down to play with the zipper of her black, half-sleeved jacket. “A-are you sure?”

He gave a short nod, scooping the rest of his books into his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. 

“I wasn’t looking where I was going, and I ran into you. If anything, I should be the one saying sorry.” His tone was composed, calm, if only for the sake of dignity. Claude and Allegra were never going to let him live this down.

He picked up her small handbag, holding it out to her. “So, I apologize. I’ll be more careful next time, and I am willing to replace anything of yours that is broken.” 

A wash of color came to her cheeks.

“Oh, That- that won’t be necessary, thank you.” She insured, taking the purse and clutching it to her chest.

Felix didn’t reply, instead using the brief pause to look her over. With her light pink capris and child-like pigtails, she didn’t exactly give off the impression of being rich or poised. Perhaps a relative bought her tuition? That’s happened before. 

“Aw, look! Felix made a friend!” Claude’s snide remark broke Felix from his thoughts, and he shot the brunette a glare. That clown can never keep his mouth shut.

Allegra pushed past the two and extended a hand to the girl just as they got to their feet. “Hi! I’m Allegra. What’s your name?”

The girl smiled- which Felix found surprisingly pleasant -and took her hand. “Marinette. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Like the doll?” Allan asked curiously, stepping forward as well.

“Sort of, yes.” 

“That’s pretty cool. I’m Allan, by the way.” He introduced himself, also shaking her hand. He then pointed behind him, towards Claude and Felix. “The one in the blue striped shirt is Claude, and the stiff board you just ran into is Felix.”

Felix hunched his shoulders slightly, a scowl tugging at the corner of his lips, but Marinette only laughed. It oddly reminded him of the sound of tinkling bells. 

“You’re new here, right?” Allegra asked before Felix could snark off to Allan. “Mind if we show you around?”

A sigh of relief tumbled from Marinette’s lips. “Please do. This place is like a maze!”

Claude chuckled and nodded in agreement. “Yeah, it’ll make your head spin. We-”

“-Can start with the cafeteria.” Felix interrupted. The sooner they could start the tour, the sooner he could go home. “Then we’ll work our way around the classrooms.”

He spun on his heel, ignoring his friends’ smug smiles, and marched off. It wouldn’t take long for them to follow.

Allan was the first to catch up, throwing Felix a sly smirk as he whispered, “I thought you said you weren’t going to show her around.”

Felix shrugged. If he was going to suffer through the embarrassment of running into somebody, he might as well get something out of it. He would take her on a quick tour, and perhaps his friends wouldn’t feel the need to meddle in his social life for at least another month.

“We’re her new classmates, right?” He said. “We should exercise basic politeness and guide her through the school.”

Allan hummed. “Sounds like good advice. I wonder who could’ve told you that.”

“The name escapes me.” Felix replied, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. He stole a glance over his shoulder to the rest of the group. Marinette was talking cheerfully with Allegra now, her previous show of anxiety all but gone. She even looked a bit confident with the tripping matter settled. Isn’t that strange?

“...What else do you know about her?”

~~~~~~

When Maman suggested that Marinette start attending Rosemary Highschool, reluctance couldn’t begin to express how she’d felt. She’d heard the rumors, how the kids were spoiled, snobby brats, how the classes were just a room full of fancy trinkets to keep the kids satisfied for a while. Marinette honestly didn’t want any part of it, but at that point, any school was better than her old school. She simply couldn’t stand Lila’s schemes anymore, nor Adrien’s relentless pursuit of having them get along. As bad as Chloe’s bullying was, Marinette almost wished that she could go back to that time. At least then she’d still have friends. (Well, calling her old classmates “friends” would be over exaggerating now. At least then she wouldn’t have to deal with getting bullied from everyone at school.)

Either way, Marinette chose Rosemary over Dupont in a heartbeat, despite her uneasiness, and found that it actually wasn’t all bad. The endless halls were a bit confusing, but the classes were more advanced than others had let on, and though a select few of the students could be considered snobbish, everyone else seemed quite nice. A small group even offered to show her around. (After she ran into their friend, that is. Only Marinette could make such an embarrassing introduction.)

“I think that covers everything.” The girl of the group, Allegra, said. “But in case you’re still confused, I have a map for you.”

“A map?” Marinette echoed. She didn’t think they presented those at the school, though they probably should.

Allegra nodded and pulled a folded piece of paper from her school bag. “Claude gets lost all the time. So I started making maps for him. I have multiple maps because- typical Claude -he loses the maps too.”

“How was I supposed to know that it got mixed in with my history homework?” Claude, obviously the jokester amongst them, defended with a flail of his arms.

“If you ever need help,” Allegra continued, ignoring Claude’s comment as she scribbled something on the map, “feel free to text me.” 

“Thank you so much.” Marinette smiled, peeking at the phone number that was now on the corner of the page.

“It’s the least we can do.” Allan, probably the most relaxed of the group, replied. 

“It’s not as complicated as it looks. I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it within a week.” Ah, yes. Then there was Felix, the poor boy she’d run into earlier. He’d been extremely mature about the matter, even insisting that it was his fault and that he’d pay for any of her damaged belongings. Naturally, she refused the offer, but it was a thoughtful gesture nonetheless. 

“If not, you know where to find us.” Claude added, before scooping her hand into his and pressing a quick kiss to her knuckles. “But I certainly wouldn’t be opposed to you finding me for non-school related purposes as well.” 

Allegra rolled her eyes with a sigh, and Allan pinched the bridge of his nose. Felix just scoffed, especially when Claude winked at the end. 

Jokester and flirt of the group. Marinette thought with a smirk. In one quick motion, she slipped her hand out of Claude’s grasp and pushed him away by the tip of his nose. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She said, flashing him a wry smile.

Claude stumbled back a step, clearly shocked by her reaction. Allan straight up laughed next to him, and Marinette, to her delight, caught a glimpse of Felix smirking.

“Oh, I like you.” Allegra snickered, slinging her arm over Marinette’s shoulders.

“So do I.” Claude grinned. 

Allan, once his laughs died down, stepped forward. “Do you mind if I give you my number too? I can’t imagine not hanging out with you now.”

Marinette blushed from the compliment, but nodded and handed him the paper. Claude eagerly jumped at the opportunity and wrote down his number too. Then the boys turned to Felix.

“What about you, Fe? Are you giving her your number now or are you gonna beg for it later?” Claude asked, his grin turning devilish.

Felix shot him a glare- which he apparently did quite often. “I don’t beg.”

Allegra- ever the patient friend -let out a huff and shoved the paper into his hands. “For Pete’s sake, Felix, just write your number on the dang paper.”

“O-Only if you want to.” Marinette interjected. She didn’t want to cause a fight amongst them on her first day.

Felix’s glare faded slightly at her input, and he sighed. 

“It’s fine. You would probably need it eventually, anyway.” He relented, plucking a pen out of his left vest pocket and jotting down his number on the paper too. Marinette smiled despite herself as she took the paper back. It was only her first day, but she’s already made four, lovely friends. She liked to think of that as a good sign.

“Have you gotten your class schedule, yet?” Allegra queried now that the phone number matter was settled.

Marinette shook her head. “I was actually trying to find it when I bumped into you guys.”

Claude snorted. “‘Bumped into’. Good one.”

Marinette giggled along with Allegra and Allan. She hadn’t meant it that way, but the irony was a bit humorous. 

“Let us walk you to the office.” Allan requested. “The school tends to overcomplicate things, class schedules included.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to hold you guys up.”

Allegra waved her hand dismissively. “Classes are over for the day, and our drivers are paid to wait for us.”

Marinette furrowed her brows slightly. “Your drivers?"

“You know, the people who drive us to and from school and anywhere else we want to go.” Claude helpfully supplied.

So, like Gorilla. Marinette thought. It made sense. This was a school of kids who had fortunes of the same extent, if not greater than, the Agreste’s fortunes. If Adrien had a driver, then the students here would certainly have one too.

“You don’t have a driver, do you?” Allegra guessed.

Marinette glanced up at the blonde, a strange mix of surprised and embarrassed. Was it that obvious? Would it be weird in this school if she didn’t have a driver?

“Please don’t take that the wrong way.” Allegra rushed to add, noticing Marinette’s sheepish expression. “I’m just curious. We don’t get many students here who aren’t drowning in their own money.”

“That makes sense.” Marinette replied. The tuition for this school had been unbelievably high. “But no, I don’t have a driver. My family was granted an early scholarship for me to come here.”

Surprise flashed across the group’s faces, including Felix’s. 

“Well, isn’t that interesting.” Claude muttered. 

Marinette shrank back slightly. “I-I’m sorry-”

“No, don’t apologize.” Allan cut her off. “We’re just impressed.”

“Getting a scholarship here isn’t easy.” Allegra explained. 

“I-It’s only in the fashion section.” Marinette admitted, fiddling with the ends of her bookbag.

Claude gasped, a sparkle coming to his chestnut eyes. "You're a fashion designer?!"

“Uh oh.” Allan smirked.

Allegra shot her an apologetic look. “I’d say that there’s an escape to this, but I don’t want to lie straight to your face on our first day of knowing each other.”

Marinette held back a smile. Did that mean she would lie to her face when they knew each other better?

“How many outfits have you designed? Can you sow outfits too? I’ve had a few ideas, but none of the other art students listen to me-” Comments and questions started spilling out of Claude left and right. Things about smeared pencil drawings, pricked fingers, and his strange obsession with ruffled, prince-like sleeves seemed to explode out of his mouth all at once. Marinette knew her rambles could fall on the fast side, but this was a whole other level. 

“I’d have to look through my notebook, but I think the ruffles are doable.” Marinette managed to say when Claude paused to take a breath.

“Really?!” He exclaimed, going so far as to clasp his hands together with a grin.

She nodded, smiling herself. “I’m not sure how princely sleeves would fair on modern sleeves, though. They’d look much nicer on a full prince costume.”

Claude’s eyes bulged out of his head. “You would design a full suit for me?”

“I can’t promise that the fabric will be of good quality when I sow it, but yeah.” 

Claude threw his fists in the air in celebration, and Allegra took the opportunity to lightly pull Marinette aside.

“You know you don’t have to do this, right?” She whispered. “Claude’s not going to be too disappointed if you decide to change your mind.”

Marinette’s smile softened. “Thanks, but I really don’t mind. I needed a new project to work on, anyway.” 

Allegra studied her for a moment, then smiled as well. “Well, if you’re sure. He’s going to send you cars full of fabric though.”

She laughed. “Guess I’ll tell Maman to start clearing out the guest room.”

~~~~~~

Felix stared at his book, rubbing the corner of the page between his thumb and index finger. His phone buzzed relentlessly beside him on the arm of his recliner, no doubt the group chat that he'd been roped into. It was chaotic enough when it was just Allegra, Allan, and Claude, but now that they've added Marinette to the group, Felix wondered if his phone would ever be silent again.

He supposed he should have known better than to assume they would show Marinette around the school and be done with her. Allegra, Allan, and Claude were always overly friendly. However, he also couldn’t say that he minded having her around either. At least, not for the time being. She was considerate enough not to push his buttons and lively enough to keep the others occupied. No more on-the-spot activities from Allegra and Claude to cure their boredom.

"They're chatty today." Bridgette, his mother, commented from the loveseat couch to his right.

Felix hummed in agreement. "A new student arrived at the school today."

"Is that what they're talking about?"

He shook his head. "It's who they're talking to. The leeches have already adopted her."

Bridgette chuckled. “You mean Allegra, Allan, and Claude?” 

“Who else insists on sticking to me like glue?” 

She tilted her head in a “True” gesture. “Who’s the new student?”

“Her name’s Marinette.” Felix answered, flipping the page of his book.

“Oh, that’s a unique name.” Bridgette replied thoughtfully.

Felix hummed in agreement. “She said it was supposed to be similar to the doll ‘Marionette’.” 

“You talked to her?” Bridgette asked, surprise lacing her tone.

Felix resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He knew she didn’t mean to sound patronizing, but sometimes her questions irked him. For example, why wouldn’t he talk to the new student if Allegra and the others were? Even if he didn’t particularly enjoy human interaction, there was still such a thing as common courtesy.

..Which he supposed he didn’t usually have either.

Okay, maybe her question was more reasonable than he originally thought.

“Yes, I actually ran into her while we were walking down the hall.” He finally said.

Bridgette tried- and failed -to hide her laugh. “You ran into someone? That’s not like you, Felix.”

Felix sighed, slipping a bookmark into his book so he could close it. “I’m aware. I was trying to ignore Allegra’s prodding when it happened.”

“I see. What did Marinette say?”

“She actually started apologizing.” Felix admitted. “Even though it was my fault, she picked up my books before tending to her own things and asked if I was alright.”

Bridgette smiled. “She sounds delightful.”

He nodded without thinking. “Allegra even invited her to our routine luncheon tomorrow.”

Felix missed the twinkle in his mother’s eyes as she said, “Wow, to your personal lunch? They must really enjoy her company. You’ll have to invite her over here sometime.”

“I’m sure Allegra will arrange it eventually.” Felix replied dismissively.

“Then I shall have to thank her when she does.” Bridgette remarked, standing up from the couch. Her fingers ruffled through his hair as she passed him. “I’m glad you had a good day at school, sweetheart.”

Felix almost objected, since he hadn’t necessarily claimed to have had a good day at school, but decided against it. There was no point in arguing, especially when his day had, in fact, been satisfactory. He’d met someone new, someone that intrigued him. (A rarity, indeed, but it was true.) In the short time they talked, Marinette had shown herself to be both kind and anxious, but also witty and confident. It was an interesting mixture that stuck out to him. What type of life must one live to create such a paradox of a personality?

Unfortunately, Allan and the others knew about as little as he did when it came to her. She was a new student that had a passion for fashion and a bright smile. That was all. This was why he’d elected to remain silent instead of sharply opposing Allegra’s inviting Marinette to their lunch. (The sly smiles that were thrown his way by Claude and Allan afterwards were above irritating, though.)

Nevertheless, Felix felt she was worth the teasing for now, because Marinette, in short, was a puzzle.

And Felix loved his puzzles.

[twst-campos13]

headcanons for Rook, Malleus, Silver, and Vil when their m!s/o jumps on their back biting their head screaming nonsense like a mad man. the first year gang coming running and one explains wheezing “mistake in potions, physical capabilities inhanced, out of control, immune to magic, help”

the rest of the day is spent with literally all the twst boys chasing after their insane boyfriend. tears were shed, dignity lost, pride scratched.

by the time he’s caught it’s nearly midnight and none of them know what’s real anymore since he kept screaming very philosophical things.

i await your answer with anticipation~

*weakly grips you,,,* 

it is...finished....i will leave most of my commentary in the notes...also please read the warning tags carefully! 

Warnings: language, mild physical violence, implicit dementia (Vil’s part!), poison, blood, depiction/description of death, goofy’s trial dialogue (Vil’s part), mild gun threat (Vil’s part) << no actual guns were present but was mentioned Tags: male!reader, angst, crackfic

This wasn't supposed to happen. This wasn't supposed to happen.

Ace started it. Deuce aided. Epel volunteered. Jack said it was a bad idea and Sebek warned them. Yet in the end—in the end—they contributed. They helped. And when the smoke cleared from the explosion that shattered the laboratory's windows, beakers, and test tubes, spilling chemicals on the ground—on you—it was too late for Crewel to protect you. For your friends to protect you.

Grim called your name. Once. Twice. Thrice in a yowl of panic as Deuce held him back and carried him away when he tried to get closer to your unmoving body; it's laying in a puddle of liquid. Black? Brown? Gray? He doesn't know the colors—how doesn't know what's happening—he doesn't know and he doesn't care because he just wants you to be safe.

Ace couldn't speak. Deuce couldn't move. Epel started shaking but hid behind a mask of control. Jack's ears and tail were erratic and Sebek broke the silence with a firm command of retreating. Let the professor handle this. Let the adult handle it.

Then you moved.

They watched you rose from the ground like a corpse from the grave.

And hell breaks loose.

➸ Why did you bite his head and messed his hair up

➸ He got no time for games, fool

➸ KIDDING

➸ Granted you did jump at Vil when his Flying Class was done. It startled him and shocked everybody. His face flared because he thought your surprise hugs had gotten too far. It took Mr. Ashton and a few of his classmates to get you off him. He's pretty sure you managed to tear off a few hairs from his scalp—and skin apparently because he felt blood drip down his lashes. 

➸ Okay, that's not normal behavior for you-

➸ You were more than disheveled; your lab coat was torn and singed, blood was seeping from your clothes, and you had a dazed look. Vil fixed himself immediately, of course, but it's natural for him to get worried about you. You looked awful. Vil was sure the chemicals splattered on your skin and uniform was what was making you disoriented. What are these fools doing still holding onto you? You should be taken to the infirmary this instance! 

➸ Vil wasn't prepared for what you did next. The moment Mr. Ashton held your shoulders to lead you to the infirmary, you knocked him out with an elbow strike. What the fuck.

➸ Okay, obviously, you're defensive. Vil took out his pen and—along with a few other students and the professor??—tried to restrain you. Vil was careful not to cast any harmful spells on you but for some reason, the professor and the other seniors seem to go off on casting advanced spells that could quite literally kill you! Du spinnst wohl are they insane?

➸ It took a lot from Vil to not be hysterical. Panicking will not do him any good but having to witness you get blasted by magic and only shake it off while maddeningly laughing is frustrating. He couldn't bear the sight of seeing you get hurt and argued loudly with one of the seniors to go easy on you. The fact that you were spouting nonsense doesn't help your situation at all, especially when you declared this, "ah-hyuck! I'll fucking shoot 'em again."

➸ "Love, will you please cooperate!" was what Vil wished to say, but seeing you in this state brought a jab of pain in his heart. The familiarity of this situation—the confusion, the frustration, the worry, the pain—adds up to the pressure and desperation of just saving you from whatever the fuck this is. 

➸ Vil doesn't even want to look at himself in the mirror. He fears that he'll end up breaking the mirror from what he'll see, but he's pretty sure, with the fight and the chase you're giving everyone, that his makeup is running and his hair is a mess. Amidst nausea and chaos, Vil came up with a solution to restrain you. So, gathering what is left of his dignity and pride, and his love for you, Vil wiped the sweat and smudged makeup off his face and ran back to Pomefiore.

➸ Don't ask why he has a ready-made collection of poisons. Just don't. It's for emergencies—such as this. 

➸ Rook found him hunched over his table with the vials of poison. He calmed Vil down and assured him that you'll be alright. The only fear that Vil has is losing another person he cares about—that includes you. Rook kissed his hand and told him he will bring the poison to you. Rook knows how much you mean to Vil, and because of his devotion to his roi de poison, he will do whatever he can to ensure your safety for Vil's sanity.

➸ Rook advised Vil not to come with him, but he wants to. Vil wants to be able to hold you in his arms and be the first to make sure that you're okay. 

➸ When the deed has been done, Vil rushed to your side. He expected your body to be as cold as a corpse but still, it shocked him. He ignored the whisper of doubt and tended to the wound Rook made to put you to sleep. You've been taken to the infirmary along with everyone else that you caused inconvenience. Vil didn't come for the anxiety settled with the fatigue in his body.

➸ When Vil came back to the Pomefiore common room, sluggish and tired, he found Rook holding Epel's shoulder. The little potato couldn't look at him in the eye and frankly, Vil just wanted to spend some time in his quarters. However, Epel's confessed, and a little bit of energy came back to Vil so he can process what the little potato said to him.

➸ He what.

➸ His hand sprung up instinctively and Epel flinched. But Vil knew this wouldn't undo what happened. He knew it isn't worth it. Vil doesn't have the strength to be angry or blame Epel. It was a mistake, after all. A very stupid mistake. Epel looked pitiful crying for forgiveness so Vil asked Rook to send him back to his room.

➸ It's proven enough just how Vil cares about you.

Vil sat down in front of his vanity table. He could not bear to look at himself in the mirror. All he could do is stare blankly at nothing. Your words made no sense and Vil feared the worst when you wake up. If you wake up.

"Great Sevens..." he muttered and wiped the tears that fell from his face. He knew what he had to do next. He just had to be prepared for it.

➸  Imagine Rook saying "oh mon Dieu" with the most neutral face and surprised eyes as if the explosion was just a mild inconvenience. 

➸  POV: you're Trey Clover 

➸  He and Trey were just cleaning around in the greenhouse when the explosion occurred. Rook knows that you have a special assignment with your friends. You didn't tell him what it is but he doesn't need you to. (He overheard Epel and Ace chill he respects you enough as his boyfriend to not pry into your private life via stalking)

- ➸ He wasted no time dashing to the potions lab. Being a hunter makes you very quickly as well as expecting the unexpected. However, he didn't expect the First Year Gang to be thrown out of the door and you emerge from the smoke as if you were some sort of ravaging beast. 

➸  If you weren't obviously covered in soot and blood, Rook would have fainted from the beauty and badassery you're currently conveying. 

➸  Now is not the time to be in awe—you jumped wall to wall with a speed faster than a cheetah's and Rook was able to deflect your attack by sidestepping. However, a few students got injured in the process. Rook saw your intention despite Monsieur Heart warning the students to not get in the way, lest they hurt themselves. You had no intention to harm—only run. 

➸  Rook has two options: follow you empty-handed or grab his bow and risk losing you

➸  He's confident in his skills in finding you, so he chose to gather information first. By that, well, pulling Epel to the side to calm him down then ask him what happened. Rook managed to understand the situation despite Epel shaking like a leaf. He doesn't feel angry. Such emotion would only intensify his instincts and he might do something that will put you and everyone else in harm more. So instead he thanked Epel, gave his head a pat, and quickly dashed to his locker for his bow and arrows. 

➸  Your boyfriend is a madman before you, for he immediately knows where you were after getting his bow. Rook attained higher heights for a better view and from the roof, he saw your figure dashing towards the forest. Ah, so your instincts led you to where you wish to be. Alright, this isn't Rook's first hunt. 

➸  When everyone else had trouble tracking you down, Rook doesn't. He reminded himself that you're not in the right mind. His monsieur filou is akin to a startled, confused, and defensive wild animal at the moment. Like a little rat, he supposed. Your movements aren't that hard to decipher for a hunter like him plus he can hear your kitchen philosophy from a mile away. 

➸  He has to apologize to Vil for taking a few vials of ready-made poison. But this is a matter of life and death. You are in danger from yourself, and as your knight, Rook will save you. Quiet as he can, he laced the tip of his arrow with the poison and aimed it at you. Rook closed his eyes and reminded himself that he is doing this to save you; not to harm you. 

➸  He notched his arrow—and you caught it with your bare. Fucking. Hand. SINGLE HAND!!

➸  Rook, internally: holy shit that was hot 

➸  Well his covers have been blown and you waved the arrow around screaming something about "I trusted you little guy!" before throwing the arrow with such accuracy while saying "go and take your little mice friend family rat with you!"

➸  Mon Dieu, he does not appreciate being called a rat!

➸  The chase continued and you quite gave everyone a workout. As much as Rook appreciated the stimulating experience you gave him, he much rather wants you subdued and safe, not running around with so many people after you. Luckily, Vil came in and gave him a new vial that is much more potent than the one he stole. He is amazed by the preparedness of his roi de poison but he is much concerned at the potency of the poison. 

➸  Vil strictly stared at him and nodded at the new direction you ran to. "With his state like that, you need to take the risks." Rook took his advice. Vil is always sharp as a dagger after all.

➸  Which means he had to use a dagger than an arrow to subdue you. Yes, Rook took the risk of having the poison close to him and closer to you in a 1 v 1 scuffle. Ah, this took him back to when he wrestled his first bear. Except the bear is his boyfriend and you're still quite human...and he's going to drive the blade of his dagger in a non-critical part of your body.

➸  Finally, the drama ended, and the curtains closed when your body fell into his arms. Your blood trickles into a small stream from where he drove the blade in. Rook knelt to the ground and cradled your body in his arms. Sweat dripped everywhere on his skin but he doesn't care about that. He cares about you. 

➸  Rook reminded himself that you can be cured of your sleep-like death and prioritized the wound that he engraved on your skin. He kissed the place where he stabbed you and solemnly apologized for defacing your body. Worry not, he will have you stitched in the infirmary, and you will awaken with his kiss...atleast he hoped you will. 

➸  Epel was waiting there when Rook brought you in. The poor boy had been crying and he apologized to Rook for the mistake he had done. Rook felt no anger and instead felt sympathy. He too had done his fair share of mistakes, and Epel should not burden himself with those. Instead, he told him, take this as a learning experience as to not do it again.

➸  Rook saved Epel from Vil's harsh scolding. Now, the only one that needs saving, is you.

Even in a sleep-like death, you are still beautiful. Your pale skin is a worrying sight to many but Rook managed to calm himself by admiring it instead. Your body is like marble with blue veins spreading in varied directions.

Rook knew he cannot distract himself by admiring you like a statue of art. You are an art, not a statue. Only histories remain as statues—and you will not become history. He knew what he had to do.

"Oh, mon filou," he whispered against your cold lips, "forgive me."

➸ Just a reminder: Malleus cares for you deeply :))

➸ He was just minding his own business when you suddenly attacked him from behind. Malleus thought you were just being your usual self and lifted his head so you'd let go of his horns. But you didn't and instead, you pulled on it harder that it startled him. He knows how strong you are—meaning something is wrong-

➸ You had quite the vice grip on his horns even when he used his tail to try and pry you off and even shake you off. He didn't want to use his entire strength to throw you but the moment his skin broke under your nails, his instincts came in first, and he threw you across the hallway. 

➸ Malleus was horrified. He didn't mean to throw you much less even hurt you. The panic got to him faster than the pain on his head as he rushed to where you flew. Was it possible to feel overwhelming fear? When Malleus' saw the outline of your figure cut clean on the window, he felt something more than fear. If he had lost you and it was his fault, then his promises for you are broken. 

➸ Then he spots your hand reach through the hole in the window. And you pulled yourself up and through the hole before dropping to the floor like a ragdoll. You were covered in bruises and cuts. Malleus feared that you have a concussion as well for you were muttering loudly about the stars melting and the Moores burning.

➸ Well, Malleus could worry about that later. You were injured and disoriented. The amount of blood coming out of you is increasing and his priority is getting you to safety. 

➸ However, just before he can scoop you in his arms, his knights came to his side. Silver looked like he'd been roused from his sleep as Sebek is disheveled. He made a firm declaration of protecting the Young Master, and that would have been normal for Sebek...if he was standing proud and tall as he said it. Malleus could easily smell the anxiety and lingering guilt from the young fae. 

➸ Things got even more concerning as Professor Crewel, Crowley, a few senior students, and Sebek's friends joined in. Malleus looked back at you and saw your cornered state. He doesn't understand what's happening yet but one thing is for sure—you're equally terrified as he is. Everyone was on guard, the Headmaster and the Professor spoke to you as if you were a wild animal—which you were—but all Malleus could think of is grabbing you and flying you away to safety.

➸ Which he did do despite public opinions

➸ By public opinions, the shouts of protests that soon fell quiet when he grabbed you and disappeared...also the "protest" falling from you which Malleus couldn't really understand. It was philosophy and poetry and a prophecy that he can comprehend little; for all Malleus cares about is you.

➸ "My dear, please, what had happened to you?" The desperation was painfully obvious in his tone as he restrained you with advanced magic. Yet as he tried to call you out of your subconscious he realized that magic is futile. Whatever state you are in you are able to break free from his magic. Malleus stayed on the defense as you attacked him, yet he recognized your attempts of attacking as desperation for help. If you crying and wailing out "save me" and "free me" isn't enough to give it away.

➸ No matter how many cuts you give him, no matter how much he will bleed, Malleus refused to fight you. 

➸ He just wants you to be okay :((

➸  Malleus knew what he had to do but he doesn't know if he had the strength to do it. Your face streaked with tears and pain pushed his heart to do it anyway. So, Malleus shoved you away with a quick pulse of magic, just enough time for him to summon his staff. He blocked your mouth from biting his neck with his arm, and even if it hurts, seeing your eyes begging to be saved hurts more. 

➸ When Lilia and the others found him, he was cradling your body in his arms. His staff laid on the ground and his tears dripped down your face like a fickle rain. Lilia didn't need an answer to know what he had done. 

➸ Malleus pulled your unconscious body close to him, hoping—desperate—to feel your warmth. But he couldn't. He couldn't hear your pulse, your heartbeat, and he couldn't feel your warmth. All he could feel is cold and numbness. But atleast you are at rest. You are saved. You're okay. You're okay, you're okay, you're okay.

➸ But he knows deep down that you're not. Because if you are okay, he wouldn't be noiselessly crying and clinging to your body as if you just died. You're alive but you're also dead. Knowing the cure for this dilemma tore his heart to pieces because deep down Malleus is still afraid. He feels like he lost you even though the truth isn't far from it. 

➸ Your words echoed in his mind before he hit you with his Unique Magic. You started hissing and wailing and finally, you raised your arms in the air and shouted, "this curse will last till the end of time—no power on earth can change it!" 

➸ Can you blame him for putting you in a sleep-like death, a sleep which you will never awaken unless by True Love's Kiss? He panicked :((

➸ Malleus kept your body close to him even when he stood up and looked at Sebek bowing deeply on the ground. He was shaking but his tone was loud enough for Malleus to have an understanding of the matter and of Sebek's apology. 

➸ Hearing that he was an accomplice of what happened to you gave him mixed emotions. 

➸ Sebek vowed his loyalty to Malleus, and when you came into his life, Sebek vowed to protect you as well. And he failed. That is very clear. The poor boy must be getting gnawed inside out with guilt. Well, Sebek did say that he will accept whatever punishment that is will befall him. He should stay true to his words because Malleus is furious. 

➸ Malleus vowed to protect you and raise Hellfire to whoever will cause you harm. He wanted to curse him, burn him on where he stands, and make him pay for what he had done unto you. He could do all of these for he can.

➸ But Malleus won't. He won't do those things to Sebek. He held himself back, swallowed the anger, remained in control of himself in front of the pitiful boy. Sebek is your friend. Sebek is his family. In the end, despite his loyalty, despite his duty, Sebek is still a kid. And Malleus knows that. He won't let this burden the young boy despite him taking full responsibility for the situation.

➸ But Malleus doesn't have the words to say what he wants to say. Instead, he told Sebek to rise from his feet and wordlessly left to bring you to the infirmary. 

➸ In the end, what matters most is you.

Your words remain in his mind to echo along with the voices of his fears. Malleus wished to feel the warmth of your hand again, for when he grasped it by your bedside he could feel nothing.

True Love's Kiss can wake you. True Love's Kiss. But do such a thing exist in Twisted Wonderland? Of course, it does, Malleus, of course, it does. However, seeing your pale lips are more of a dreadful reminder than a hopeful invitation.

The fear settled in his stomach along with his insecurities. Malleus cannot lose you. He can live without you, but he does not want to.

➸ Homeboy was just sleeping under the tree,,, he didn't hear the explosion go off or even heard you running at him at full speed

➸ By that, well, running at inhumane speed and pouncing right on him like a rabid animal.

➸ He woke right up when he felt the pain immediately. It was like getting hit with a spine of a book—it jostled him enough to wake him, at least, and the adrenaline rushing through him was enough to knock you off. Silver didn't have time to get what the fuck was happening but thank the Sevens he was trained enough to be quick-footed. 

➸ He had time to grab his baton but he didn't have time to block your pounce. And damn you hit like a truck! Silver had to use his baton to block your face even if your entire weight was pressing down at him. There was something definitely wrong with you—and it's not just the look in your eyes-

➸ "What's gotten into you?!" the sudden shout made you calm down—thankfully—and Silver thought you're fine again. You looked at him blankly and the anxiety nipped at his skin. "Are you talking to me?" ????? Who else is he talking to??? 

➸ When he talked to you, like, yes dear I'm talking to you, your face contorted into something akin to bashfulness—the tipsy kind of bashfulness. The next thing you said confused and worried him more: "Mrs. Robinsons...you're seducing me."

➸ ???? Who the fuck is Mrs. Robinsons???

➸ Well, Silver doesn't have time to think what kind of enchantment table language you're daying because you're suddenly thrown away from him by a burst of magic—advanced magic that he only saw Malleus cast once because of the sheer force it can create. By that, meaning, one single hit of that magic can KILL A REGULAR HUMAN BEING.

➸ It was Professor Crewel who fired the blast and even he looked astounded at what he'd done. Silver didn't waste any time rushing to where you were blasted off. He was expecting you...dead, remains, fuck...what he wasn't expecting was seeing you still standing. Barely alive with your skin blooded and peeling and regenerating—but alive, nonetheless. 

➸ He locked eyes with you again and the cold feeling settled at the pit of his stomach looking at you. "Hey. Don't look at me like I'm fucking Frankenstein." You opened your arms at him and gave a solemn nod. "Give your father a hug." 

➸ Silver, softly: what the fuck

➸ When Professor Crewel withdrew his wand again you literally hissed like a raccoon. And it looked like he wasn't alone for Sebek pulled Silver away from your range. Ace, Deuce, and Grim were here too. Silver took a deep breath and looked at Sebek wordlessly demanding what the fuck is happening. 

➸ Sebek, as quick as he could, explained the situation to Silver. The quick run-down of things swum around in Silver's head as your nonsensical remarks made him dizzier. Guess that explains your strength and immunity to magic. 

➸ Silver: who did this to him?? Sebek, sweating: it's a funny story, really

➸ Silver stared at Sebek. He didn't have time to process what the fuck Sebek just confessed to because you screamed again. Sebek and he whipped around to see you viciously tearing apart roots and magical bonds set off by the professor along with the senior students that rushed to the scene. "ALRIGHT," you screamed, yeeting Ace, "I'm TIRED of these EFFIN snakes on this MOTHERFUCKIN' TRAIN!" Then you took off running the other direction toward the forest, and the chorus of frustration reminded Silver of the gravity of the situation.

➸ The absurd weight on his entire body made Silver wish this was just a nightmare.

➸ But it would be a nightmare to lose you. 

➸ Even when the night was starting to stretch, and the others were sent by the staff to the infirmary, Silver went to the forest with a heavy heart and his baton in hand. Sebek followed him—for what, a sense of responsibility?—and stopped him before he runs into a tree or worse. Silver snapped at him, the anger finally reaching its surface, and he glared at the young man. Silver isn't the type to fight with his fist nor his words, but this is about you. You who were struck by a mix of potions and magic and currently missing because someone's big head got you in trouble.

➸ Silver knows that Sebek knows how much you mean to him. He's also well aware of Sebek's particular dislike for humans. That remark made Sebek slightly stumble. A flash of hurt and angry was in his eyes but he never tried to hit Silver, despite almost losing control over himself. 

➸ "Fighting would not bring him back, Silver. Arguing will not either," Sebek told him. "I know my apologies will be useless in this situation and that is why I will do everything that I can to fix this." 

➸ Silver is on the verge of fucking tears but it won't compare to Sebek who remains a straight face while his nose turns bright red from holding back tears. Fortunately, before things get worse, Lilia and Malleus came from the trees. In Malleus' arms was you, quiet, and sedated. Silver would have jumped at Malleus and whisked you away but he's suddenly overcome with fatigue that Lilia had to place his arms around him. 

➸ Apparently, the two found you by the river doing whatever then Malleus struck you with his Unique Magic. At that mention, Silver felt cold. He didn't realize how tired he felt, from running around to worrying about you. Despite the heaviness on his shoulders and eyelids, he kept his eyes on you. You looked peaceful but hurt. And Silver wished he can keep you close to him to make you less hurt.

➸ He's glad that you're okay now but he feels dreadful about what's to come next. That dread never left, though, even when the slumber takes him.

"Poor things," Lilia sighed, stroking Silver's locks as Sebek carried the boy on his back. Malleus still has your unconscious body in your arms. His expression is unreadable.

Sebek felt the guilt suffocating him but he remained calm despite the lodge in his throat. "M—Master Lilia—Young master—It...this is..." Sebek stammered, failing to grasp the appropriate words for a sincere pardon. Yet Silver's weight is just as heavy as his sins. Lilia, however, stroked his head. "Save your strength, little one. The best you can do for now is take Silver to the infirmary," the elder fae instructed.

Sebek only nodded and obediently abided.

[rason-rodd]

Snowmen and Assassins - Older!Damian Wayne x Fem!Reader

Summary: This is Y/N’s first Christmas among the League of Assassins but a monastery of deadly assassins is maybe not the right place to celebrate this winter tradition. 

Author’s note: Bat-Christmas Day 12 ;-) Damian in this story is highly inspired by Batman beyond! Damian as he took his grandfather’s place as leader of the League of Assassins. And I will fight anyone who doesn’t believe Adult Damian will be the most devoted boyfriend to ever exist. (#assassinprincecharming)

Tagged: 100% Fluff

Sitting at the candlelit desk that used to belong to his grandfather, working on a personal project that could not wait, Damian Wayne could hear the unclear yet outraged groans and growls of his counsellor – whose name was Zeh-Ro - echoing outside of the door. He was clearly angry but it was nothing new or surprising.     Lately, and especially since Damian’s reconciliation with his father and your arrival in the Himalayan monastery, the old white-haired man had taken the rude habit to question Damian’s every decision as leader of the League of Assassin in ways that were highly inappropriate for a man of his status. Of course this misplaced attitude was never welcomed or tolerated by the young leader, and each tantrums had all encountered either a stone-cold stoicism or a burning rage. A type of reaction Damian had inherited from his father, Bruce.             “This is highly unacceptable!” Damian sighed, fully aware that his bodyguard, Koru, would not be able to prevent Zeh-Ro from entering his private quarters any longer. “Let me see him!” The heavy wooden door suddenly burst open, making all the soft dancing flames shudder, almost in panic, as if they were aware of the incoming wrath. “What is wrong, Zeh-Ro?”   “This woman … This woman is a disgrace! How dares she?!” The red of his angry face was clashing with the whiteness of his dishevelled hair, a scarlet colour only Y/N and her light-hearted shenanigans could give him. “I’m sure whatever Y/N did it is not that terrible.” Damian declared with a discreet amused smirk. “Not that terrible? Not that terrible?” The old man repeated almost out of breath. “That woman has a knack of bringing shame to herself … and to ourselves … and to our cause. To you. She is a foreign child who knows nothing of our culture, nothing of our traditions. I said it before and I say it again. Her place is not here!” Damian put what he was doing in the drawer of his desk that he slammed almost violently and stood up. But not even his menacing eyes or his towering stature seemed to frighten Zeh-Ro who kept mumbling his anger at him. “Your grandfather would have never approved of her! The league does not approve of her! This silly infatuation needs to end and it needs to end now!”   “No.” Zeh-ro eyes widened suddenly. He had expected more that a single word. He had expected more consideration, even more anger. “No?” Damian didn’t bother to repeat and smoothly close the gap between him and his counsellor in an attempt to establish his undeniable authority on him.           “And from now on I would not tolerate you interfere in my privacy. My love life is none of your concern Zeh-ro, nor is Y/N.”           “But she…” Damian cut him short, tired of hearing and seeing the man. “I will hear no more. Now leave.” Fortunately, he beat a retreat and exited the room while muttering insults in Arabic that Damian chose to ignore. He had other matters to take care of.           Only when the man finally was out of sight, did the leader of the league choose to relax and lose his aggressive austerity. “Will he ever learn?” He asked Koru who almost allowed himself to smile. “I’m afraid not, master.” Damian sighed again and put on his long green kimono that he carelessly knotted around his strong waist. “What has Y/N done again?”     “ I believe it is better for you to see it, master.”

***

In spite of the cashmere gloves you were wearing, your hands were red and freezing just as your cheeks and the tip of your nose. Unsurprising since you had been spending the afternoon playing in the snow with the few children of the league who had been bold enough to follow you in your shenanigans.     Not that it had been your goal all along. In fact, you had never thought about asking anyone to follow you in your “Not so top-secret Christmas mission ” as you had named it when the little rascals had found you baking Christmas cookies in the kitchen this morning and curiously asked what you were up to.           Before that, you had just planned to bake for your lover and decorate a Christmas tree in your shared quarters, away from prying eyes, perfectly aware of the fuss your silly little actions would cause if anyone caught you trying to celebrate Christmas.         But then, the children had simply said, “We’ve never celebrated Christmas.” with their little eyes shining with sadness.      

And so here you were. Building snowmen right under the noses of mighty assassins glaring at you as if you were committing the most awful crime in the world.   Their reactions had hurt you at first, just as many other things they had done – or hadn’t done- since your arrival in the monastery in spite of all your relentless attempts at fitting in. But then you had realised that they should not matter and that you should focus only on the magic, on the happiness of the children by your side occasionally fighting with snowballs and acting - maybe for the first time of their life - as who they truly were, kids.

“Beloved?” You slightly jumped and dropped the small little stone carefully chosen to be the left eye of your snowman on the ground. “Damian.” You didn’t know how to react. Usually, Damian was always there to defend you, finding excuses to all the times your attitude wasn’t appreciated or approved by the league. But there was a difference between forgetting to remove your shoes at the entrance of Ra’s Al Ghul’s temple and celebrating an occidental tradition in a monastery of assassins. Maybe had you gone too far this time. “What are you doing?”         “Look… I know this looks bad. But it’s my first winter here, my first Christmas away from my family and I thought …”           “That you could celebrate it here.” He looked so serious you couldn’t tell if he was mad at you or if he simply was tired of you not being “the right paramour” for him – a term Damian’s counsellor had spit to your face quite a few times. “I get that I might have gone too far this time. I can stop if that’s what you want.”

Damian knelt to pick the little black stone you had dropped and suddenly, much to your surprise and to those around you, placed it on your snowman’s face. “By all means, continue.” And with a gentle timid smile, he turned around to where he came from. You blinked quite a couple of times; unable to believe what you had just seen or to demonstrate all the happiness this small action had given you.           But then you gasped as a huge snowball hit Damian right in the back of his head. “God damn …” He cursed more out of surprise than out of pain and turned back around with a glare you had never seen. Your eyes widened and you looked at the terrorised children who were all pointing at the culprit. Guess boldness and courage had their limits. “How dare you throw a snowball at the Demon’s Head? And behind his back?” He growled, definitely angry and the poor children looked down, petrified. “I guess someone has to teach you how to play fairly.”  

And then a snowball hit your shoulder, making you scream loudly. “Ahhh” But then you saw that Damian was laughing like you had never heard him laugh before. And goodness, how contagious it was. “You’re going to pay for this!” You harrumphed trying to remove the snow from inside your coat. “Choose your partners, kids. This battle is to death.”

***

“I let you win.” Damian declared as he removed his thick leather boots once in your quarters. “Plus you had better partners. Mine were all incompetent. I scored all the points myself.”       “Of course, Dami. Of Course.” You smiled and removed your wool coat to place it by the fireplace where you chose to stay a little to enjoy its welcome warmth after this cold afternoon outside.       “You know. You’re starting to show, beloved.” Damian said as he approached you to lovingly hug you from behind and kiss your neck, his strong hands on your slightly round belly that were keep a four-months little secret no one knew about yet. “Yeah. We won’t be able to keep hiding it for too long.” You put your hands on Damian’s, adoring his sudden proximity and his devotion to you and to your little one growing inside of you. “I guess that’s gonna make some people boil over.”           “Who cares?” He kissed your temple and let his soft lips remain on your skin just to smell its perfume. You let go in his embrace, wondering how this loving man could be the leader of such a deadly organisation. Speaking of deadly organisation …   “By the way, thank you for this afternoon, for defending me again. I know it often undermines you especially in Zeh-Ro’s eyes.” You heard Damian sigh and tense a little before turning you around to face him. “Beloved, when will you realise I do not care about what Zeh-Ro thinks, about what anyone thinks? I’m happy to defend you. At least it shows them that I am not my grandfather and that they can’t expect me to be him.” “ But …” You tried to protest and he gestured you to be quiet with a finger on your lips. “No buts. I love all the things you do here. I love all the love you bring to this place, to me. And I want out child to experience it. I don’t want him to live the joyless loveless childhood I lived.” You smiled at his words but your eyes reflected the sadness he had in his. You knew about his past, about Talia and Ra’s and all the things they made him go through, the exhausting relentless and abusive trainings and the heavy burden they had placed on his young shoulders when he was just a little boy. And so you cupped his cheek and softly kissed him in on tiptoe, keeping his broad body against yours that seemed so tiny and fragile in comparison to his. Though, the most fragile person in this room right now was him.               “I have something for you, beloved.” Damian said as he slowly let go of you for a moment to take something he had left in his desk. “I hope you’ll like it.”

You slightly shook the box he had just given you, curious to know what’s inside. “You know it’s not Christmas yet.”   “I know. It’s not really a Christmas gift” You narrowed your eyes trying to read in his what he was hiding from you. “Just open it.” He chuckled and you grinned, your hands already tearing the wrapping up. It was a wooden small box. “You’re not asking me to marry you, are you?” You asked cheekily and Damian laughed. “Not yet.” He smirked but you chose to ignore it for now, too excited to know what was in the box.

It was a beautiful Christmas tree star, certainly made of crystal judging by how fragile and translucent it looked, and definitely very ancient. “Damian, it’s beautiful.” “You like it?” “I love it!” You corrected as you delicately touched it with your fingertips. “Good. Cause there’s a Christmas tree in the main hall that is waiting for it.” He looked at your eyes brighten instantly and as beautifully and brightly as the star you were holding, glad he could finally make you feel at home as much as you could make him feel at home. “Merry Christmas, beloved.”   “Merry Christmas, Damian.”           Merry Christmas, indeed. 

[squishneedsahero]

Jordskjelv

The Earth Shaker

Part 1 of ?

Word Count: 1885

Loki x Reader

Just a 2012 style avengers fanfic that is Loki x Reader. Sometime you just need cute fluff that is absolutely nothing more than self indulgence.

It had been a normal day, you going to work at the little cafe, serving people coffee and sandwiches, just living your normal life. Then things had shown up on the news, an attack in New York City. Aliens coming down from the sky and wreaking havoc on the city, and then you saw him and your heart stopped. The customers were all distracted so you called out on your break then and there, pulling out your phone and looking up the fight in NYC, you kept looking for any glimpse of the man with a red cape flying around with a hammer in hand.

"Thor," it comes out as a breathless whisper.

You don't care that you're in the middle of a shift, you shout to your coworkers that you have to leave and walk out the door. You needed to get to NYC, you needed to find Thor, you couldn't get there fast enough. Surely the fight would have ended by the time you even make it to the outside of the city, but hopefully you could make it on time to find Thor. Thor was the only chance you had for getting your old life back and you had missed him the last time he'd been anywhere close by.

As you get in your car and take off driving at a reckless pace you let your mind fill with memories. You'd grown up with Thor in Asgard, your name was actually Faylwyn even if here in Midgard you went by y/n. You'd run and played and trained alongside him and Sif and the Warriors Three. Then once you were a bit older you had gotten in trouble, gotten on Odin's bad side, and he had banished you to Midgard. Thor had to have not known that you were alive, else he would have come looking for you.

But it isn't Thor you care about here. You glance at the bracelet around your wrist, beads strung on a strand of black hair, intertwined with a strand of your own hair. It was all you had left of your life on Asgard, you'd been friends with Thor sure, but he was just Loki's dumb older brother. You and Loki had been inseparable, hell you'd even given each other love locks, thats what this bracelet was, you'd had to cut it out of your hair, but you couldn't just give it up. You'd put some beads on it to hide what it truly was but it was your most prized possession.

The lovelocks had been hidden, hidden under layers of your hair so that no one knew besides the two of you. You and Loki had had wonderful plans, plans to run away together, to explore the universe together, to get married once you were old enough and to spend the eons with one another. No one had known this, no one but the two of you, Odin was unlikely to allow it, Frigga had to listen to her husband, and Thor had a big mouth. No one had known the full extent of the love both of you shared for the other, but now you had a chance, a chance to find him again after 700 years of being in Midgard alone.

You had never stopped loving him in all that time, you had longed to be by his side once again, you could only imagine the pain he had felt with whatever story Odin had decided to tell of your disappearance. Now you had that chance to find him again and you weren't going to miss it for the second time. Your one and only fear was that, he might not love you anymore, after all this time that he had moved on while you hadn't.

You drive all day, the fight is long over when you reach the city, it's the middle of the night and the streets are packed with people and rubble along with alien bodies. There wasn't anyway you could continue to drive, so you got out of your car, leaving it running in your hurry, you don't care you don't need it. You look up on your phone directions to the Stark Tower, it was your best chance of finding Thor, and you begin running. You aren't fast like Captain America but you have stamina, able to run for hours and hours, going for miles and days on end.

No, you weren't Asgardian royalty, but here at least much like Thor was considered the god of thunder in ancient mythology, you were considered the goddess of earth. No, not like Earth the planet, but earth, the dirt, minerals, the ground beneath your very feet. Thor was able to fly, like the lightning and thunder, rushing through the air. You were able to run, moving with ease, being one with the ground beneath you, never faltering calm and steady.

You round a corner and the tower becomes visible, tall and graceful, pointing into the sky with lights illuminating its massive form. It's when you get close that you notice the many agents and people swarming the scene, there was no way you'd be able to get inside unnoticed. And none of these people knew who you were so they'd never let you in, you sigh, time to do something stupid, or at the very least a plan which Thor could have come up with. You slowed your pace, finding your way into an alley, then to a side door. "Here goes nothing," you say softly to yourself as you pry the locked door open and step inside.

Instantly alarms begin wailing and SHIELD agents begin to swarm towards your position. That was fine, you didn't want to hurt any of them but causing a scene would get the attention you needed. You needed to pose yourself as a big enough threat to need the attention of the heroes who had fought the aliens, any less and they'd ignore you, thinking you're some crazy from off the street. The agents surround you and you don't make a move, letting them go first. You don't want to hurt them, so you need to judge their skill first, you'd been fighting for nearly a thousand years, you'd easily be able to take them down.

The first to approach you with their gun, telling you to surrender since you weren't supposed to be here, you punch in the nose and knock them out. Seeing the ease with which you did that, leads to them calling for backup. Perfect. From there you focus, feeling a heavy sensation in your stomach as you do, slowly the ground opens up enough to sink their feet in and trap them, and one small, earthquake later their guns are on the floor.

You approach the one who had called for backup, and look them over briefly before speaking. "I need to talk to Thor, can you make that happen?"

They seem confused with your sudden loss of aggression, but nod, placing a finger to their ear as they reached out through their coms, "Director Fury, the infiltrator on the ground level wishes to speak with Thor. They have disarmed us and and have us all trapped my our feet in the floor but they do not seem to pose a threat as long as they see Thor."

You nod once and confirm, "I just wish to speak with him, I'm an old friend." With that you step back and place the door back in place, as you step outside once again, "I'll be in the park. Tell him I'm waiting."

With that you leave, and close the door behind you. Only releasing the agents from the ground once you've made it safely away. It was short and fortunately went better than planned. Now all you had to do was wait, and wait you did. It did not matter to you that it took hours for anything to happen. It didn't mater that you'd slept in the grass that night, and that the sun was rising when someone approached you. You had a chance to see your Loki again and that was all you needed to be happy.

You're awoken by someone speaking softly, "sir, I have eyes on the target." It's a woman's voice, you don't move, and continue to lay there, eyes closed.

It's when you hear the slightest sound of the grass moving that you finally do so as well, sitting up and moving to face her. It's the redheaded woman who was fighting alongside Thor the day previous. You offer a slight smile and a, "hello."

When you move Natasha removers her hand from the earpiece she was wearing, and asks, "you're the one that broke in last night asking for Thor?" It's posed as a question but you feel it's more of a statement.

"That is me, I'd just like to speak with him, I'm an old friend. My name is y/n l/n, at least that is the one you will find me under in all government records. Look me up, I don't care, just let me see Thor before he returns to Asgard," you come to a standing position and hold out your hand, "tell him Faylwyn wishes to see him, he'll know what you mean." With that you turn to walk away.

"Sorry, no can do, you're coming with me, you broke into a secure facility and took out multiple agents. You don't get to walk off right like that," she says and reaches for her hip.

You turn back to face her as she speaks, glancing at her hand before meeting her eyes again, "I'm willing to come peacefully. You don't have to tase me," you hold out your empty hands to her, "see, you can even handcuff me, just so I can speak with Thor."

Natasha looks at you, you're being genuine on this one thing, though she still doesn't trust you. She had seen the door you'd pried open, the imprints of your fingers in the metal around the latch, there was no way handcuffs would hold you if you wanted to leave. "No need, come on," she nods her head towards the tower and keeps her hand on the taser as she leads the way. You were a threat if you wanted to be, and obviously you were smart. You hadn't caused more damage that a broken door and a broken nose, and from what she had heard and seen on the cameras you could have done a lot more had you wished to do so.

You follow Natasha to the tower and in the doors, around some corners up an elevator and through the hallways to a more private and secure room.

"Wait here," she says as she opens the door for you, letting you in before closing it behind you. Once again, you wait. This is still your best chance, you had no other way to contact Thor, thanks to Odin's being pissed at you even after 700 years. The All-Father could All-ways hold a grudge.

Eventually the door handle jiggles before opening, and you look up, meeting the eyes of the tall blond, the Asgardian armor covering his body and the red cape over his shoulders. He looks at you in shock and says, "Faylwyn?"

[beetlemancy]

I love everything that Liam does with Caleb as a character, but one of the things that always Gets Me is how well and realistically he depicts Caleb's regression. I think Liam does a very good job of accurately portraying the nonlinear recovery path from trauma

This is something I’ve talked about before, but not nearly to the lengths that people like @ luckthebard have (highly recommend you check out her in depth metas about Caleb and trauma, you will learn things about yourself too). I love that its become relevant again, because isn’t that just how trauma is too? And rather the point of your ask?

Trauma is not linear. Recovery from most things is often non-linear, even outside of trauma. As an autistic person with trauma and other medical goofiness, the normal progression most media gives recovery is obnoxiously ... cute? Ignorant? Actively harmful for disabled and traumatized people? That’s the one!

We are fed this idea that you are hurt, you work to recover, and every step you make forward on that journey is binding - you’ve done that work, now you move on until its complete. No! That’s not how any of this works! Liam understands that - and I don’t want to pry into his life, but it is not making a huge leap to know based on what he has shared of his private life that like many of us he has experience in the depths of human sorrow. 

Most people have - and many of us prefer to ignore reality and opt for the more fairytale version of Recovery because it makes us feel better. But does it? Because frankly, I used to think I was broken because of my regressions. I couldn’t get as far as my peers, as far as media portrayals, as far as what was expected of me - and so much was expected of me. 

I look at Caleb’s story, and how Liam portrays him, as such a cathartic lens on trauma and regression and moving through life dealing with those things. Caleb has grown so much - we just had an episode where he faces his abuser and acknowledges that he himself is worth the vengeance he might one day get for his suffering. He knows the M9 is family and gives them a beautiful home together - and, he has a place in his mind so dark still that it can’t help but show itself in the same place that houses his friends.

A part of him still lives there. Maybe its fuel for his plans to stop the Assembly. Maybe its fuel for his self-hatred. Maybe its that darkness that both hurts but also soothes because its the only familiar thing you still have. 

Either way it is unbelievably relatable and I give so much kudos to Liam for being to able to so accurately and, honestly, bravely portray these painful and yet extremely comforting regressions. 

[americasass81]

Make Her Mine - Chapter Five

{Warnings:- 18+, Dark theme, Smut, Dubious Consent, Non-Consensual Sex, Spanking, Attempted Suffocation, Anal, Use of Inanimate Object, Swearing, Implied Breeding, Oral (male & female receiving), Brief Mention of Real People, Spitting}.  Do not read if any of these warnings are upsetting.

This contains adult themes and by proceeding you are acknowledging that you are over 18 and are consenting to the content below the cut.

A/N: Okay so I know it's been a while since we last checked in here but life and story block decided to pay me a visit.  At least the good news is I got the whole thing finished (will never reveal how I beat the block though😂).  Hope you all enjoy it.  Feedback is welcomed.

Pairing:- Tony Stark x Reader

Word Count:- 3,820

Waking beside Tony the next morning, your mind worked through all the possible options available to you.  You could try to escape, but with his stupid technology inside you, not only could he always find you but the two shocks you already received were still fresh in your mind.  Carefully reaching across him for the phone on the bedside table, Tony opened his eyes, caught hold of your hips and despite your struggles, placed you on top of him before thrusting up into your waiting pussy as he pulled your hips down to meet his.  "Fuck darling, what a way to wake up?  You feel fantastic.  Tell me you love how full I make you feel."

Holding onto his chest to steady yourself while trying to free yourself, you refused to even look at him.  Unhappy with both your non-participation and refusal to answer, he lifted you up until only his tip remained inside you and repeated the process again.  Each time he brought you down, a hand left a slap on your ass cheek and it wasn't long before his efforts brought a reaction from you.  Just not the one he expected.

Managing to successfully grab your pillow, you brought it down on Tony's face and couldn't believe your dumb luck when he started thrashing beneath you, before his hands fell from your body.  Holding the pillow in place a bit longer for good measure, you then removed yourself from his cock while grabbing his phone, t-shirt and boxers before running from the room.  Throwing on Tony's clothes while simultaneously making your way towards the kitchen, you tried the phone only to find it locked.

Upon reaching the kitchen, your spirits sank further when, as Tony had told you previously, both doors were indeed locked.  Searching around for some means to pry any door open, you eventually dropped to the floor while you contemplated the fucked up situation you now found yourself in.  Here you sat in a house you couldn't leave, with a dead Avenger and apparently no way of opening any door that wasn't your bedroom.  You would have cried at the dire circumstances now facing you if it wasn't for the sharp pain that radiated throughout your body, signaling that Tony Stark wasn't as dead as you thought.  Screaming and wrapping your arms around yourself as the pain increased, darkness claimed you once again before a pissed off Tony towered over your unconscious form.

                   *************

Finally coming round in a room you didn't recognize, the double doors however told you that you now occupied Tony's bed.  Looking around, you saw that while it might look similar to your room, it was in fact much bigger with three doors along one wall.  Above the bed proved another difference however and this one made you wish you could reach a bathroom.  Where the window in your room sat above the bed, here Tony had a mirror running the full length of the bed with the same ceiling window on either side.

Tearing your gaze away from the scene above, you looked once more at your naked form, but this time instead of being secured to the bed your hands and feet were simply bound together.  Giving you a bit more freedom, but still not allowing you to move, a noise off to your right brought your attention back to the three doors.  All of a sudden, the single one opened and there before you stood a dripping wet Tony Stark, draped in a black towel that left very little to the imagination.  Winking over at you, he made his way to the other two doors before emerging a short time later in boxers that were no better than the towel.  Rounding the bed and sitting on the couch you now just noticed, Tony couldn't help but admire the effort you made to roll onto your side in order to face him.  It seemed your determination and perseverance were fast becoming his favorite qualities.

Taking your time to catch your breath after the effort moving took, the look on his face did nothing to quell your rising anger or frustration.  "Well Mr. Stark, I guess it's safe to say you look pretty good for a dead man.  Do I get to find out what's in store for me now or later?"

"Oh Y/N . . .," he smiled, rising from the couch and laying down next to you on the bed.  "what I have planned for you will totally depend on the path you choose to take going forward."

"Path?  What path?  I can't believe you're actually going to give me a choice in any of this."

Sliding his hand along your side, he smiled broadly before cupping your face to make you look at him.  "You know, with as smart as you are you should be way higher up in the company.  How come you've never once applied for any promotional opportunity?" he asked, failing miserably to put you at ease.

"I already told you, I was happy where I was.  I was good at my job and it was well paying, while still affording me ample time to enjoy various hobbies.  Not everyone needs to be lord of everyone else." you directed at him.

"Lord of everyone?" he scoffed, his other hand stalling on your left thigh.  "Is that what you think of me?  Excuse me for seeing something I want and going after it.  As circumstances and you keep proving, life can be quite short.  One never knows when it might end."

"But I'm not something, Mr. Stark.  I'm someone.  Someone who's not interested in being your flavor of the month or however long you plan on playing with me."

"Oh darling, no.  No no no.  You're not a flavor of the month.  You're my forever.  All you have to do is choose it."

Bursting out laughing at this ridiculous statement, you rolled over onto your back again as you tried to compose yourself.  "I think I might have cut off too much air to your brain when I tried to smother you, because I honestly don't see any scenario where I agree to be yours."

Propping both of you up against the headboard, you cringed as he placed his arm around your waist before speaking again.  "Let's watch a little visual presentation and then you tell me where you stand."  With that a tv screen rose from what you thought was a box at the end of the bed, while Tony played around with the watch on his wrist.  As the screen came to life, your eyes widened when he opened a file titled 'New York Mob.'

Sebastian, Sabrina, Anthony, Scarlett, Jeremy, Chris and Brie, all possible known information about each and every one of them was displayed in eye opening clarity.  Tony it seemed had been thorough.  So thorough, you thought, that he could probably teach the F.B.I. and the C.I.A. a thing or two.  Looking as the information continued to scroll by, accompanied by an array of private pictures, your blood ran cold when you realized, this was his leverage.  While he had told you he didn't want a war with Sebastian, it seemed he was more than willing to mobilize the Avengers if necessary to keep you with him.

Turning off the screen when he felt your tears fall on his chest, he pulled you closer and wrapped his arms tenderly around you.  "You know you can keep them safe, right darling?  Just say you're mine and Steve, Wanda, Vision, Rhodey and Bruce need never know of their existence."

Wiping your tears, you managed to pull yourself free of his arms before glaring up at him.  "Are you out of your freaking mind?  You're a goddamn Avenger.  Heroes don't do this sort of shit."

"You're right Y/N, this is the kind of thing your friends do all too frequently.  But good girls also don't behave the way you do.  Now come here, say you're mine or by god you can face the consequences." he threatened as he held out his arms to you.

Figuring the worst he could do was shock you until you were gratefully unconscious again, you turned away from him, before curling into a ball and waiting for the painful darkness that never came.

                    *************

Snatching you up, while you fought as best you could, Tony sat back down on the couch, before placing your bound form across his lap and his left hand on your back.  Feeling his right hand massage your ass cheeks, you turned your head to face him as you realized knocking you out would be a blessing compared to what he had planned.

"Mr. Stark . . . Tony . . . you win.  I'm yours.  Now how about we get something to eat and discuss this future you envisioned?" you suggested, with as much fake sincerity as your frightened body could muster.

Having freed your legs and smiling broadly, Tony continued to stroke your ass as he leaned forward and kissed your lips before meeting your terrified gaze.  "Seven to ten minutes darling.  That's how long it takes to properly suffocate someone.  Shall we see how long it takes for my proud little girl to beg?"  With that, his hand left your ass before coming back down sharply.

Eyes fixed on the floor and thinking of all the ways you would love to see him suffer as a means to distract yourself, you let out a cry somewhere around slap nine, when this time it seemed the nanoparticle armor had made an appearance.  Not knowing how much time had passed, six more rapid blows of metal against flesh had your ass stinging and tears falling from your eyes.  Turning to face him once again, this time you hoped your current state could swing the situation in your favor.  "Tony please, it hurts so freaking much.  Stop this and I will say, do and be whatever you want."

"Aw Y/N, darling, we've only been at this a few minutes.  You and I both know your stubborn streak is much stronger than this.  Besides, I can tell when you're lying.  Now if you don't mind, I have some work to get back to."

Knowing you had failed to appeal to him, you renewed your efforts to free yourself, only for Tony to increase the pressure of his hand on your back.  Raining down many more metal slaps on each cheek, a scream ripped through you and your struggles died down when Tony spit on your ass before plugging you up with what you now knew to be a nano-cock.  You didn't know if it was sheer stubbornness or hatred that kept you from passing out, but as Tony picked up your crying, trembling form and placed you back on the bed, you were more determined than ever not to submit to him.

Wiping the tears from your eyes as he once again secured your hands to the bed, Tony couldn't help but lean closer to whisper in your ear.  "No more tears now, be my good girl and everything your heart desires will be yours."

"What my heart desires right now is to see you bleeding at my feet." you spat, moving around to head butt him once again.  "Ow fuck, that hurt."

Collapsing back down on the bed while trying to ignore the throbbing in your forehead, you watched as Tony rubbed his head before moving down the bed and discarding his boxers.  Then taking hold of your legs, he quickly secured each one to the bed with soft rope.  "Y/N, I really don't know what I did to warrant this level of hostility.  Where's the polite young lady who dropped off those files to my meeting Wednesday morning hmm?"

"Where she's been, is held captive by a delusional billionaire playboy who doesn't get that not every woman he meets wants to suck his cock."

Having settled himself between your legs, he seemed to contemplate what you said as one hand stroked his length, before the other made its way to your waiting folds. Once there, he then proceeded to slap your mound until tears and curses fell from your body once again.  "See darling this is the fundamental problem we're having right here." he smirked, as he ran his fingers along your slit before plunging inside.  "You run from me, claim you want nothing to do with me.  Hell, you even try to kill me, yet your body still craves my touch."  To prove his point, he withdrew his digits and brought them to your lips.

Opening your mouth when his other hand left his shaft to grab the nano-cock in your ass and push it deeper, his slick fingers entered your mouth, forcing you to taste your body's reaction to him.  Working in tandem, his other hand began moving the nano-cock at a steady pace, while your mouth hungrily latched onto his fingers.  In no time at all, shame bloomed within you as your back arched and the grin on Tony's face confirmed that he knew you had just come.

"Well now Y/N, what a way to prove me right.  Shall we try for another one?"  With that he removed his fingers from your mouth, moving them instead to your swollen clit.  Slapping it again, while continuing to move the cock in your ass, the nanoparticles and ropes kept you exactly where he wanted you.  Your demeanor changed dramatically however, when he slipped two fingers into your pussy and began pumping them and the nano-cock in and out of your body while his lips latched onto your clit.

"Oh my fucking god Tony, what the hell are you doing?" you cried out as your body fought not only the restraints, but the intense pleasure now radiating upwards and outwards from your core.  Now crying full on tears, this was a level of pleasure you had never before experienced and it scared you to think what the end result would be.  As Tony worked faster and harder, your breathing reached the point where you could no longer string two words together and as the nanoparticles loosened around your wrists, the coil in your stomach finally snapped and you saw black.

Coming around a few minutes later, an empty feeling in your ass told you the nano-cock had been removed while the smuggest looking Tony Stark you had ever come across, gently trailed his fingers up and down your over sensitive and tender folds.  "There's my beautiful Y/N." he said, as he leaned down to kiss your lips, while you were too tired to currently fight him.

Looking around, you discovered that you were no longer tied down to the bed, but for some reason your body also seemed to have trouble responding to your commands.  Sensing your rising confusion, Tony stopped his actions and instead focused all his attention on you before speaking.  "It's okay darling, everything is fine.  I just wore you out a bit is all." he smirked as he continued explaining.  "Your orgasm was so intense, that you actually passed out on me.  Thankfully the nanoparticles reassured me that nothing was wrong."  Leaning forward to kiss you once more, he brought his lips directly to your ear before whispering, "Tell me Y/N, am I the first man to ever make you squirt?"

Looking up at him in abject horror, your voice finally seemed to return to you, even if the rest of your mental faculties still seemed to be rearranging themselves.  "Squirt?  Tony what the fuck are you talking about and could you please stop doing that." you exclaimed, as his hand returned to your pussy while his mouth lavished attention on each of your tits.

Looking up at you, you couldn't recall ever seeing Tony Stark so proud of himself and that look alone almost made you feel sick.  "You soaked the sheets darling.  There's cum and fluid everywhere.  It was glorious.  V.I.R.G.I.L. taped it, I can replay it if you want."

As the vaguest memory of what had occurred finally bloomed in your mind, you at last returned to your senses and scrambled as far away for him as you could physically get.  "Jesus no, Mr. Stark.  What you can do is erase that fucking video right now and get it through your thick head that what happened will not, I REPEAT WILL NOT happen again."

"Oh, so I see we're back to Mr. Stark are we?  Well that just isn't going to work for me." he huffed out, as he moved quicker than you ever thought possible and had you once more held down on the bed beneath him.  Fighting back as best you could, the battle was lost when Tony sat atop your thighs before caging both your wrist in his powerful hand.  "Here's what's going to happen darling and I don't want to hear any complaints from you.  First I'm going to fuck this pussy of yours so good you'll never let another man near it.  Not that I'll ever let that happen anyway." he said, as your eyes followed his other hand down to where it stroked his now hard, red and leaking shaft.

"Then," he quickly added, noticing you were about to argue, "I'm going to fill you with so much cum that you'll always have a part of me inside you.  Afterwards we are going to move to the kitchen where you and I are going to enjoy a nice dinner before getting to know each other better.  Do I make myself clear?" he finally asked, as the tv returned to show images of your friends silently scrolling along the screen.

Reluctantly admitting defeat but too stubborn to let him see you break, you turned your gaze away from the screen to focus on him.  "O-okay T-tony," you croaked out as a victorious smile bloomed across his face and his lips moved down to capture yours in a searing kiss.

With that, he quickly removed himself from your thighs and parting your legs, lined his aching cock up with your now abused entrance before gently sliding home.  Failing to control the moans that left your lips as he set up a surprisingly tender rhythm, Tony was totally taken aback when he released your hands only to have them latch onto his shoulders as your legs left the bed to wrap around his waist.  It seemed for all your protests and complaints, Tony had been right about one fundamental point . . . your body craved the feelings he pulled from it.

Pulling out to just the tip and then thrusting back in just as slowly so your walls felt every vein and ridge of his impressive member, Tony kept up this slow, torturous pace until you couldn't stand it any longer.  "Oh for fuck’s sake Tony, put me out of my misery and fuck me like you promised."

Having finally gotten the desired result, Tony smirked down at you before releasing your legs from his waist and shoving them forward as far as they would go.  Now able to pound into you at a deeper angle, his cock reached places you never knew could feel so good.  Hitting your cervix and rubbing deliciously over your g-spot you finally gave voice to the pleasure he was working out of you.  "Ah yes Tony, right there.  That's it, please don't stop.  Fuck!" you begged as you tried your best to thrust against him.

"Oh my beautiful girl, you never have to beg me for anything and I have no intention of stopping." Tony panted while gazing down on you.  True to his word, Tony continued to pound into you and as he felt your walls begin to clench around his length, he reached his hand down between your joined bodies and began to apply enough pressure on your swollen clit to make you come undone.

"Ahh fuck.  Uhhh, make me come Tony."

Getting the hint that you were so close to the edge that you simply needed a little extra push, Tony looked into your eyes as he placed his mouth over your left breast and bit into your tender flesh.  Hearing the scream as your walls clamped down on his aching member, it was now Tony's turn to curse as his balls clenched up and both of you came in a torrent of cum and tangled limbs.

                    *************

Laying down beside you as you both began to recover from your release, Tony failed to notice the tears leaking from your eyes as you rolled onto your side with your back to his chest.  Wrapping his arms around you, he placed countless kisses all over your neck and shoulders while his hands roamed over your chest.  Once he heard your breathing return to normal, he released his hold on you before rising from the bed.  "Okay darling, let's get you cleaned up so we can see about that dinner I promised you."

Holding out his hand to help you from the bed, you couldn't remember a time when your body ached so much.  Leading you to the door he exited earlier, Tony opened the door to the luxury shower and ushered you inside.  Leaning against the tiled wall as the water hit your body, you jerked away when Tony came up behind you and lined his body up perfectly with yours.  "Easy darling, it's only me." he whispered as he handed you the bottle of shampoo.  Gazing down at the bottle, Tony seemed to understand what you were thinking and quickly used his powerful arms to cage yours by your side.

"Don't even think about it Y/N.  You've already proven you don't value your own life, but Sabrina's seems to be a different story.  All I have to do is have F.R.I.D.A.Y. alert Steve and your friend is nothing but a distant memory."  Dropping the bottle as the fight died in you, Tony released you to pick it up as you slumped against the wall.

However as the tears you were shedding had now dried up, your anger seemed to have returned and turning around as he neared you again, you raised your fist and connected squarely with Tony's jaw.  "You may have proven that my body craves you and you may hold my fate and that of my friends in your hands, but I will never accept being yours." you spat as Tony reached out and forcefully grabbed you by the hair.

Pulling your face close to his, he kissed you hungrily and spit in your mouth, before pushing you onto your knees and shoving his cock against your lips.  "Bite me darling and the New York Mob will witness a massacre the likes of which has never been seen." was all he said as he squeezed your jaw and thrust his length down your throat.

Tagging:- @nsfwsebbie , @hoseokchild , @ironlady1993 , @gotnofucks , @floatingdaisy7 , @taintedgenre , @buttercandy16 , sorry if I missed anyone.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Riding the Lightning: Part Two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill, fluff and angst

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you���ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated.

Feedback is gold, and it’s the only currency I take

The couple’s house hasn’t been treated well. It has so much graffiti and damage that the city had to put a chain-link fence around the place to keep trespassers away. However, if more came, it wouldn’t make much of a difference. The place is so badly damaged, you’re shocked it’s still standing. This place holds a lot of memories, and none of them are good.

This used to be a good house--you can see it. Years of ignored care left it in the state it’s in. The outside walls used to be bright white but now are a dirty color. The wood is falling apart at the base of the house. The windows are smashed and shattered, so to keep people out of the house, they board it up haphazardly.

“Jacob's workshop is out the back,” Derek says.

“I don’t know about this place, Derek. I have a really bad feeling,” you say with an uneasy feeling.

Derek leads you onto the property and towards the back. The closer you get to the place where his workshop used to be, the more the uneasy feeling comes back. All that’s left back there is just dirt, but you can clearly see the workshop as if it were standing right now. Everything is perfectly clear as to what used to be here.

“He claimed that Sarah Jean would lure the victims from mall parking lots. She'd invite them to smoke pot in her truck. They'd find Jacob but no pot. They’d bring them here.”

“This is where the workshop stood,” you state, looking around as if it were actually here.

“What do you see?”

“It’s a lot smaller than I thought it was going to be. It’s big enough to not warrant concerns from anyone else but small enough to hide away from the street’s view. It looks homey like a guest house, but not too scary to throw off any of the people who passed by the house on a daily basis. There are high cabinets with a ton of tools inside like a mechanic would have. There are some tools hanging on the far wall, a few desks around, and a big bench saw,” you whisper fearfully when you see what’s on it.

Right on the blade is red liquid, and you know it’s blood.

“The blade has a ton of blood on it. He used it to cut up his victims,” you say.

As you get out the last word, you see a mystified version of Jacob standing by the saw with one of his faceless victims on the table. She is squirming, but he cuts her up anyway. Sarah Jean is nowhere to be found, but you have a feeling that she didn’t know he did this to these poor girls. Killing, maybe, but killing them this way, absolutely not. Sarah Jean was a victim herself--and she still is.

“I can’t look at this anymore,” you whisper and look away from the crime scene that’s no longer there.

“We know that Jacob was abused as a child. What about Sarah Jean?” Derek asks.

“Her mother refused to give any testimony in her defense. She never talked to anybody,” you state.

When you look back at Derek, the workshop had disappeared. Your mind is focused on something else, so it doesn’t have the energy to conjure up what was, but instead, focuses on what is.

“Maybe she's willing to talk now. Let's go pay Sarah Jean's mother a visit.”

“Despite what happened, she doesn’t live far. It’s within walking distance.”

“I wonder why she didn’t move halfway around the world.”

“She’s a mother, Derek. A Mother doesn’t abandon her children,” you say with sadness.

“You say that like you know that. Do you have children?”

“No.”

You don’t say anything more on the matter, not like you would if you could. Your past promised to stay in the past, so there is no use in digging up things that have been locked away for almost a decade now. You two quickly head over to Sarah Jean’s mother’s house to see if she’ll talk to you now.

Her house is still standing, but it looks like there is a lot of work still left to be done. Its as if she wants to repaint and redo the house to give it a new start so she can somehow move on from all this. No matter how much work is done on the house, you can still sense the sadness within the foundations. Right by the door is ‘Rot in Hell Sarah Jean’ spray-painted loud for anyone who walks by. You ignore it and knock on the door, looking at Derek when she doesn’t answer.

“She’s sad, Derek--in more pain than anyone I’ve seen in a while,” you sigh.

“Hello? Anybody? Hello! Mrs. Mason?” Derek yells, knowing she is home.

The door opens and Sarah’s mother, Deborah Mason, stands there with a small teacup in her hands.

“Yeah?”

“Are you Sarah Jean Dawes’ mother?” you ask.

“Who the hell are you?”

“FBI. We are from the behavior analysis unit,” you state and flash her your badge.

“My daughter and her son of a bitch husband buried a thirteen-year-old girl under my floor. What more do you need to know?”

“Ma'am, Sarah Jean has agreed to meet with our colleges to talk about why they killed those girls. We'd like some background information if you don't mind,” Derek says gently.

She has nothing to lose by letting you two in and talking, so she just shrugs and lets the door open as she heads back inside. The inside looks the same as the outside, but with more work. Plastic covers virtually everything as she gets ready to repaint the house. There are some parts torn up from the floor, so you’re careful as you walk inside to where Deborah is in the kitchen. This is an open floor plan, and you can see into the dining room on the other end of the kitchen right through an arched entryway. Almost every doorway is an arch.

“Extensive remodeling. Jacob built the original extension?” you ask and point to the arch separating the kitchen and the dining room. “I see he liked arches.”

“Teenage girls, agent, that's what he liked.”

“How was Sarah Jean growing up?”

“Fine, until she met Jacob. She was shy, quiet, and also smart.”

She picks up a bottle of vodka and adds more to her small teacup, and you exchange silent glances with Derek.

“What about her relationship with her father?” you wonder. “Was Sarah ever abused?”

“He was strict. He was a military man. They didn't always see eye to eye. That's all history. He's dead. She's about to die,” she sighs and drinks from the cup.

“Mrs. Mason, if we better understand the dynamics of her relationships, we can get a better idea of why and what actually happened,” Derek says.

“Dynamics?” she scoffs and moves away from the kitchen to the living room where her purse is.

“Well, it might answer why Jacob never killed Sarah Jean. They shared something.”

“They shared pain.”

“How strict was your husband? How did he discipline Sarah Jean? Was he physical with her?” you pry.

“He was a mean bastard, but he only hurt me… never her.”

“Why didn’t you leave with her?”

“Because we had no place to go,” her voice falters as she takes another sip.

“An anonymous caller tipped the police off about Jacob, was it you?” you ask.

“No, but I know who it was,” she says and pulls out a letter from her purse. She hands it to you, and you take it gently from her hands. “This came this morning.”

You open the letter, and your mouth hangs open just a bit when you read exactly what it is.

“What does it say?” Derek asks.

“It’s a statement of innocence,” you reveal. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to call Gideon about this.”

You quickly head outside and dial Penelope so she can patch you through to the older agent.

“Garcia,” she says once she answers.

“Hey, it’s Y/N. I need Gideon please.”

“Yeah, I'll pass you through,” she puts you on a brief hold until she can get the older agent on the line for you.

“What?” Gideon mutters quietly.

“We're at the mother's house, and she gave me a letter. A statement of innocence. I want to read to you.”

“Read the letter, Y/N.”

“Mom, I know how difficult this must be. Things between us were never what they should be between a mother and a daughter. I want you to know that the best part of me, the most important part of me, is now in a better place than you and I will ever be. I'm responsible for the death of those girls. I neglected my duties as a woman and as a mother.”

There is more to it, but you can hear Sarah Jean get upset over the line. You don’t know what is happening, but you feel like you need to get over there right now. Screw prisons and your fear of them. You need to help this woman, and it sounds like you can, based on what you hear over the phone.

“I’m coming over there. I’ll be there soon,” you say to whoever is listening before hanging up. Derek exits the house, and you put your phone away and hand him the letter. “I’m going back to prison. You’ll be okay here? I can send Elle to help you.”

“Yeah, that’d be great. I’ll see if I can’t get anything else out of Deborah.”

“Okay, stay safe.”

“And stay sane,” he quips back as you head to the car.

When you get to the prison, Gideon and Spencer are done talking to Sarah Jean. She didn’t know you would be reading her private letter, so she needed to clear her head before you go and talk to her. If she is truly innocent, then why is she fighting so hard to stay here? Why not fight to get out and separate herself fro Jacob? She is scared of something… or she’s trying to protect someone. You sent Elle to go to Derek when you arrived, and the team gathers where Penelope is to watch the tapes of the interviews to see if they can’t spot anything that they might have missed.

“They died as a result of my neglect,” Sarah Jean whispers regretfully.

“This letter suggests to me that an innocent woman is about to be executed for a crime she did not commit.”

“I could tell you right now, it's not enough to get a stay,” Sam Shapiro sighs.

“Well, facts. Reid,” Gideon says.

“Human sexuality is a complex dynamic of three components: biological, physiological, and emotional. Jacob's needs were informed by the emotional, sexual abuse that he received at the hand of his mother. Long term appetitive abuse informed the template of his love map. Something we refer to as a signature. Jacob was an only child, so he was alone when the abuse occurred. So, in order for him to fulfill his fantasy he has got to be alone with his victims.”

You look from the tape of Sarah Jean to the one with Jacob, and you just narrow our eyes in anger for him. He’s not a good person at all, and you refuse to even be in within sight of him. There is no way you’ll survive talking to him about anything.

“If I told you that what would I have left for myself?” Jacob says over the tape.

“He said ‘myself’. If Sarah Jean was present, it would have destroyed his fantasy,” you note.

“She confessed to killing her son,” the warden, Charles Diehl, states.

“Yes, true, but we are also convinced that she is the anonymous caller that made the phone call that nailed Jacob. In fact, I know she is.”

“Guilt-ridden and filled with remorse, she called the police. It's not the profile of a woman who would then kill a child,” Gideon sighs.

“What else do you need?” you ask the attorney.

“Evidence.”

“So, if we prove Jacob killed Riley, would that get a stay?”

“Absolutely.”

“She protects the painting, she protects the boy,” Gideon mutters.

“What?” you ask.

“Paintings are her statement. We need to figure out what they say.”

“Get me into her room, and I’ll find that out. I have to be alone though. I can’t have her influence on this.”

“You’ll get it,” Gideon confirms with a single nod.

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[wonderofwillows2]

A Minor Thing

   It’s hard to describe the how you felt when you were young, especially hard to do it accurately. It’s enough of challenge sometimes to describe how you feel now. So without further ornamentation I suppose I’d better get on with it here. My father met my step-mother when I was only nine. My oldest sister was twelve my other eleven. They were happy for him, happy he was kind to her and happy she was kind to him. I was just happy to have a mother, there was something about having a woman’s voice in my young life that soothed a deep seated need. I loved the high and lilting songs she sang in her native language, the sweetness of the words that always seemed hover just that evanescent bit longer when they ended in a vowel. I loved the colorful clothes she wore and the high spicy notes of the new food she cooked for us.

It was two years later than they had the wedding, our family was small as my father was a bit older and his parents modern. Hers was vast, she had seven brothers and they all joked about their baby sister growing up even though she was thirty-six, an age I still can’t imagine myself as I write this. They claimed it was long overdue that she marry, her mother claimed so also and was glad she’d have grandchildren. It was an obvious point of pain that their daughter, our step-mother, could not conceive on her own. Her mother and father were both adamant that we would join the faith but she and her brothers interceded on our behalf. The wedding was a dry, but that didn’t affect me, I was drunk instead on the stories my new uncles told of a seemingly free and idyllic childhoods spent chasing one another through twisting streets and burdening the adults they met. There was no honeymoon, both claimed to be too old for that. Instead a few days after the wedding my father and new mother went to out for nearly a day and my father spent a few days out of work. It seemed he was in some pain. I thought nothing of it until a few weeks later. That was when they explained to me that there was one holdover of my new mother’s culture she could compromise on. My father had been circumcised. It was a practice I had never heard of and I asked them, in my innocence, what they meant by that new and strange term. My mother took the lead then and leaned close to me and took my hands in her own. They were soft and surprisingly warm as if she’d been wringing them in the anticipation of a difficult but necessary task, the kind so often avoided until it was doubtlessly time to undertake it.

She explained to me then, in her calmest voice, an almost tense voice of thinly veiled energy, that in her culture young men have their foreskins removed. She explained that it was cleaner, that it was harmless, that it was an act of beautification and health. My father then interjected that while it was not part of our own culture he had no regrets at such a small change. He placed his arm around her and looked me in the eye as he told me he had no regrets, that it really was a small thing to please her and how worth it it was to please my new mother who he loved so deeply and certainly. He explained also how she’d asked him to have this minor surgery if they were married and how he’d nearly abandoned the prospect but decided to go through with it. It was then my new mother shocked me, her sweet voice almost breaking with nervous awareness, that she had asked to have me circumcised as well. I processed this slowly and then with fear and looked to my father but he maintained a stoic silence and I new I would undergo this treatment. I would be cut in two weeks time. It is said anticipation of the thing is greater or worse in some measure than the thing itself. I am not sure of that myself but I can say those two weeks were spent in fear. Worse yet they were spent with my sisters knowing my impending fate. My mother had made sure to announce it to them and in front of me as well. They had been shocked themselves then curious, asking a flurry of questions to our new mother. She silenced them then but made sure to mention she’d explain more in private. She did not think it appropriate to cover the topic with me present. It was an objectification I would never quite get over. I was not to be privileged by her explanation, I was only to have my father’s for the time being and he was difficult to pry information from. He would merely tell me what a small matter it was, how little I should worry. Perhaps it was a happy thing that I was only just discovering the pleasant sensation my foreskin could give me, I might have missed it more then

My sisters were quite around me for the next few days sharing only greetings and giggling between themselves. Though they had always done this it felt like it was always about my looming appointment. I once overheard them call it a “penis trim” and then laugh short stifled little laughs. That hurt me to the point of tears and I cried in my room to avoid them. I once asked my mother if the girls would have to have any special treatments or surgeries. She simply assured me that girls were pure and clean, that there was no need to change them at all. I burst then and yelled in indignation that I was fine too, that my father was fine, we did not need to change. She barely reacted then, she merely paused then turned maternal and assured me it would be better to be cut, I’d be better than the other boys then. She ended the conversation then with a stern admonition that I should be brave and just accept my cutting, that all her brothers were done and they were fine. I dropped the conversation then.

The day before my cutting I was advised by her not to eat or drink that night. It was a brief but unpleasant fast. My parents were strict in watching me, my sisters in contrast to their previous behavior were kind and offered supportive words. My oldest sister, now a teenage offered that she had looked up what would be done to me and that she thought that circumcised penises were much nicer and that it would be good to be cleaner. She even went so far as to say she was sorry she would not get to meet more boys who were cut but that she might try to do so in the future. My other sister agreed they were nicer but also offered most girls would find it a nice surprise. This was little consolation and I cried then and begged them to intercede on my behalf. They held me and then said just to accept things. Our mother had explained it all and it would be better.

The next morning I was awakened by my father who advised me calmly but firmly to dress in athletic clothes and come downstairs, my sisters were to sleep through the whole affair. My mother waited dressed in her finer street clothes, she smiled and asked if I was excited. I could only mumble that I was frightened. She told me she knew I would be brave but her demeanor suggested it was a command as opposed to statement. It was not long before we were off. We rarely drove much as my parents took the bus to work but that day we took the car to the clinic. It was a small unassuming building of brown brick and marked only by a small sign. We parked and got out, my parents walked with me towards the building. It felt like a monumental structure though in reality I doubt it had more than six rooms. The name on the sign in the front seemed to be one from my mother’s homeland. I had no doubt it was her choice.

When we entered we were greeted by a receptionist in clothes like my mother’s. They spoke in my mother’s native tongue, her voice still so pleasant and sweet. It seemed they knew one another and there was even a bit of laughter exchanged after a pause where both looked at me. I felt once more like the mere subject of another person’s whims and felt then what I only now can identify as a feeling of diminishment. I never wanted to feel that way again. My father was silent the whole time, he seemed far away as if he were imagining another place. Eventually we were called and my mother and father walked with me to the room. I was made to undress and dawn a robe. A young woman native to my own country came in and took my vital signs, height, and weight. She and my mother chatted briefly in my language. She seemed indifferent to my plight. I thought she might raise a point against my forced acculturation but she said nothing. Finally the doctor came into the room, he was an older man – probably in his late fifties with a snow white beard. He spoke to my mother in my native language. Then in my own he advised me lie back and relax. It was then the nurse returned with some a cup of water and a pill. I was advised to swallow it and did so. The effect was profound and I soon found my anxiety at the whole thing abating though it seems likely that it affected my memory to as things soon started to blur at that point. My mother told me I was lucky, many boys in her country had no pain killers or pills. She told me to be brave. They all left for a few minute and I heard them speaking nearby though I didn’t terribly care about what. Only the doctor and nurse returned then, with a tray of tools. They moved a screen over my midsection. I felt the cold of the numbing agent then the pain of three shots. They left again and returned a bit later. They tested my sensation and asked if I felt pain, I told them I did not. The they went to work. The process was short I barely remember it, only the shock when they moved the curtain and a clear plastic ring was bonded to my penis behind the now bare glans. I felt no fear then due to the medicine. I only felt shocked.

I dressed and then left the room and was greeted by my smiling mother who hugged me and told me I was brave. We returned to the waiting room and the doctor invited my parents into his office. They returned with some papers and a small bag and we left and returned home. It was only at night the pain started but it was manageable. I refused stubbornly to show I was affected though I think it was naive to believe it did not show. My sisters were especially kind to me in those few days. It felt like a dream to me. I suppose that is a blessing as it lessened the humiliation of my mother and father checking my wound before I bathed. The rest of that week was spend with mild pain and itching. School was difficult then but I got through it. The next week the ring fell off and I was confronted by my new penis in its singular form. It seemed so naked and vulnerable encircled by the bright red line just behind the glans. The skin was tight and the glans a deep and unhappy mauve. I was acutely aware of the glans rubbing the fabric of my clothes. I hated my new penis then, I felt ashamed when I saw it. I felt like I would always be less of a man though my mother claimed I could now be one, that it was the skin that was boyish. The same week we returned to the same clinic for a check. The doctor happily pronounced me to be healing well. My mother was happy and my father relieved. I was told then I no longer had to bathe as carefully and could return to sports the week after. It was a relief that I could have at least some normality again. On the way out my mother and the receptionist spoke again, then looked at me and giggled girlishly. It was only when we got home and my parents were out of the room that my oldest sister informed me that the rim of my glans, my corona, was visible through the thin athletic pants I had worn. I felt utterly humiliated then

As time wore on I healed completely and began to grow up in a literal sense. I hit mu growth spurt and my voice deepened. I was proud of my new need for deodorant and tiny excuse for a mustache that graced my upper lip. My penis grew too and I began to get frequent erections. They were tight to the point of nearly being painful but this soon subsided. I learned also that my penis provided new unknown pleasures though something always seemed a bit off, like there was just a tinge of pain when I played with my bare glans. It didn’t stop me but I soon discovered through conversations at school that I needed lubricants to get the same from my self pleasure that the other boys did. It was one of the few time that I recalled my circumcision and truly thought about it. I delved into researching the topic and learned that my own glans, and my father’s, had likely been desensitized by our surgeries. The fact that it was very little was not comfort and I wondered how such a thing could be called “small” or “cosmetic”. I once raise my concerns with my step-mother, she merely laughed and admonished me for my greed. She told me men get plenty of pleasure. I raised my concerns with my father and he merely told me there was no undoing what was done.

It was another year and a half before I met my first girlfriend. She was a friend of my middle sister and a bit younger than her but still older than me and more experienced. I was not her first and she delighted in the comparison between my penis and that of the other boys she knew. She liked the look of it and claimed it was much prettier than the others and said she cut her own sons. I do not know if she was serious. I had my first experience at oral sex with her and she claimed she much preferred to perform the act on me as she had easy access to the glans with no skin to move. I was happy enough then to be cut. I supposed it was not so bad. I did not learn until a bit later that part of my intrigue to her was that she had learned I was cut from my sister. I would have been upset had I learned before hand and was glad I did not. I soon learned a few who knew my sister were similarly interested and I wonder if she had intentionally promoted me as a learning experience. I asked her about sharing the information but she simply played coy and apologized, saying it had “just slipped out.

   So now as I look back, ready to graduate college, I think It was best that I was cut. It is true it cuts down a bit on my pleasure but the women I have known were always pleasantly surprised by my penis. My current fiancee is from the United States where I learned that male circumcision is a normal practice. I was surprised by that but happy at her happiness. She told me she did prefer cut men and would have insisted I have the surgery if I were not. I suppose it is a strange confluence of events that I would wind up in a situation so similar to my own father’s. I would never have guessed it, or that one day I might well consent to cut my own son at my wife’s request. There is no moral to this, it is only a recounting of events. However those events are ones that have influenced me for my whole life, I still feel a tinge of powerlessness from time to time and I still feel the humiliating sting of first seeing my altered penis. My step-mother – my mother – is so fond of my fiancee, I suppose in the end my circumcision was really for her all along. I’ll never ask of course but I’ll always believe it was more than just a cultural preference that led to my father and I being cut.

[lancermylove]

General N.SFW HC

Fandom: BSTS

Pairing: Mizuki x fem!Reader, Gui x fem!Reader, Maica x fem!Reader, Yoshino x fem!Reader

Warning: N.SFW

Requested by: Anon

Prompt: So like can I request general nsfw hc for Mizuki Maica Gui and Yoshino? Also I love you ❤️

A/N: Love ya too! 😘 Also, Mizuki and Gui are above 18, but to avoid any controversies, I’ll add pretend they’re older. 

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It'll take a long time for Gui to trust you enough to get into a relationship with you. As for getting intimate...

You will have to explain everything to him and answer ALL his questions. If you want to enlist outside help, then Kei or Ginsei will be able to help. Well, Ginsei assuming that he can handle the questions. 

You will have to take charge, especially the first few times. 

He will never agree to do anything in public since he's protective of you. 

Gui will rely on you completely to tell him what you like and dislike. After a few times, he will be able to pick up your likes/dislikes from your voice. 

He doesn't mind trying out anything since he isn't familiar with intimacy in general. 

Gui may ask you questions, so be patient and answer them. If you snap at him or refuse to answer, that will tell Gui that you don't care about him. 

He refuses to do anything that causes you pain, so no BDSM. If he hurts you, he would never forgive himself. The concept of pain can bring pleasure eludes him.

Gui doesn't have any favorite positions. Whatever makes you happy makes him happy.

Give him time; he will learn eventually!

He is big on aftercare since he wants to make sure you're okay. Your safety and well-being are THE most important to him. For that reason, he will never get too rough, nor will he leave bite marks or bruises.

Though Gui can't say his favorite when it comes to intimacy, he can definitely say that he loves to cuddle with you. He likes how warm your body is, and Gui loves your trustworthy smell*.

It'll take a while for Maica to be comfortable enough to get intimate with you. 

Maica can be a tease verbally, especially if you blush easily. He enjoys seeing your red cheeks. 

Anything public is a BIG no for him. He doesn't want any prying eye to see the two of you getting intimate, and he knows there are people in Starless that wouldn't hesitate to peek. 

He is a VERY picky man, so if he doesn't like something, he will refuse to try it. 

Maica isn't into oral and prefers skipping it. He isn't into roleplaying either unless you pull out the prince/princess characters. Then your prince charming will be on his knees, kissing your hand and asking you to become his. 

Though he loves to see you in the nude, he likes making love to you with clothes on. There's just something about seeing your disheveled clothes and certain body-parts peeking out that turn him on. 

Maica mostly prefers to be slow and sensual, but if you want him to go rough, then push his masculinity buttons - show me how manly you can be, show me how strong of a male you are...

He prefers to be the dominant one but will let you take charge if you ask.

Maica's favorite position is missionary. He prefers to keep it simple and effective.

Aftercare consists of taking a bath together, sharing a few kisses, and drifting off to sleep while cuddling. 

He is a tsundere, so getting into a relationship with him will have its challenges. Getting intimate with him will be slightly difficult as well, but if you initiate it, then he may follow.

Mizuki isn't all too sure about public places. But if no one is around, then he might try once to see what it feels like. 

Since he isn't all too familiar with intimacy, he doesn't mind exploring different things. 

Just like his personality, Mizuki likes it wild, so don't expect him to go slow. If something turns him on, he has a hard time controlling himself. 

He doesn't care for details, like lingerie, considering he's most likely going to rip it trying to remove it. 

Though he isn't fond of foreplay, Mizuki likes seeing your reactions and likes the way your skin tastes. Want to turn him on and make him happy at the same time? Try covering certain body parts with food.

Since he likes it wild, Mizuki loves it when you grip his hair and bite him. It adds to his fire, especially knowing that you like what he's doing. 

Team B's leader will take you anywhere in private. He's needy, so he never knows when he'll get turned on. 

If you're a needy person in return, then the two of you can expect to stay glued to each other for hours. 

Mizuki loves getting oral from you, but if you surprise him with an oral in a public place, then he will completely melt. Though, he'll have a hard time controlling his words - expect profanity left and right. 

He may be wild during, but after, he always asks you with red cheeks and averted eyes, "How did you like it?" 

Mizuki doesn't do any aftercare, but if you ask him to help you clean up, he'll cooperate. After that, he usually hugs you tightly and drifts off to sleep. 

Yoshino isn't comfortable doing anything in public except holding hands and hugging. He always fears someone catching the two of you in action. 

The first few times, Yoshino will be insecure and hesitate. He will doubt himself and ask if you like what he's doing. He needs assurance from you, be it "you're doing well" or "keep doing that". 

Due to his lack of confidence, it'll take him a long time to get intimate with you. You may have to push him nicely or take charge. But once he gets used to it, Yoshino will never hesitate unless he sees that you're not enjoying being intimate with him. 

Yoshino also likes to see you in lingerie, especially pink lingerie. 

He likes to make love to you with the light off or dimmed. 

He usually prefers being slow, but if you moan for him to go faster or harder, he will gladly comply. 

When Yoshino gets rough, he resorts to dirty talk. His softer expressions are replaced by darker ones. 

One of Yoshino's kinks is daddy play. It makes him feel powerful, but if you're uncomfortable with it, he will never ask you to call him daddy.

His favorite position is doggy style. He loves digging his fingers into your hips while pounding you from behind. 

Yoshino always worries that he may have hurt you, so once you two finish, he promptly asks, "Are you alright? I am s-sorry if I hurt you." 

He's big on aftercare and will do anything to make you feel comfortable. He loves to cuddle, and if you ask him to sing to you, it'll make him very happy. 

When you fall asleep, Yoshino always whispers something to you. "Thank you for coming into my life and trusting me to love you." 

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* For anyone who finds the ‘smell’ part odd: Gui’s master taught him to judge people by their scent. There are people in Starless that he trusts based on their scent, and some he really doesn’t trust due to their scent.

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