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seenoversundown · 5 months ago

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For Death Or Glory : Chapter Five

Jake Kiszka x Charlotte (fem OC)

Warnings: Anxious Themes (includes a Comforting scene), Mild Meltdown (I don't want to say a panic attack because it isn't really) Mentions of Grieving, the most brief mention of funerals, silly&friendly bullying, drinking/alcohol (we know the drill), Fluff oh the fluff, & Jake yearns a little more (shocking).

Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: After caving and finally asking for help, Jake doesn't know what to do with himself until she shows up. Which takes a big ol' turn for ... well, I guess we will find out, won't we? 🤭

Author's Note: If we're being completely honest, this was the first chapter I wrote, of this story. I knew exactly how I wanted this day to go and I couldn't stop myself when I thought of the idea. It's what fueled the bulk of the storyline and I really hope you guys love it as deeply as I do. 🥹

Clocks Go Forward - James Bay "Stay warm, close your eyes, let time fly, Stay close, stay right here, nothing to fear."

I slide my phone back into my pocket. Staring at it isn’t going to make her reply, Jake. I’ve been at the bar trying to figure out this paperwork for a while, and well, I’m lost. My hands keep finding their way to the back of my head as I read through these documents; I need to focus on something else.

“Hey, how are you?” I say in passing some day-time regulars of ours. I collect any empty cans or glasses that I can, anything to keep me busy at this rate.

I wander behind the bar, setting all the glasses in the dirty bin.

“Jake.”

I look over to Josh, who’s wiping out a glass.

“Why don’t you just go get some lunch or something? You’re stressing me out being here.”

“Is it really that bad?” I ask, running my hand through my hair.

A laugh erupting from him says enough.

“Okay, alright, I’ll leave you alone,” I tell him, “Just let me know if you need anything.”

Reluctantly sitting back down at the desk in my office, I find myself with my head in my hands for a moment. You’re going to be okay. You’re new at this, and it’s okay to mess up. She’s giving you time to take care of everything.

After a deep breath or two, I opened my laptop and pulled up my email. I decided that maybe spending some time doing mindless admin work would help distract me from the inevitable problem.

I’m flying through these emails by humming along to whatever customers have chosen for the jukebox. Looking at the time in the top corner, 2:30 pm.

She still hasn’t replied. Maybe she’s working with someone else right now; just be patient.

I walk back into the bar, seeing a handful more people come in. I wave slightly to the regulars who like to camp out in the corner. They enjoy sneaking away from work for a few hours; “Lunch beers” is apparently what they call it. I laughed the first time they told me about it, but as they continued the tradition, I understood it more and more.

Looking to the corner of the bar, I see Quinn. I can’t help but watch the two of them for a minute with a grin plastered on my face. Seeing my brother so happy makes my heart swell daily, and Quinn is perfect for him; I can’t deny it. They just know how to handle him and reign him in when he’s being a bit too much. Which is more often than not.

“Do you two want to go grab lunch?” I ask, slinking my arm around Josh’s shoulders, “I think I can handle the rowdy folk we have here.” I shoot a wink at the few customers sitting next to Quinn.

His eyes light up, “You don’t have to ask me twice. Let’s go, bug!”

I don’t think he could have left any quicker if he tried. Immediately, hand in hand with Quinn, and practically pranced out of the bar.

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“And a squirrel fell down my chimney into my fireplace!”

I nod with a quiet “mhm,” glancing at my phone hidden under the bar. 3:15 pm. I'm trying to look interested in this story I’ve heard a few times. The older gentleman talking to me forgets that he’s told me the majority of the tales he has in his arsenal. But I don’t want to cut him off; he seems lonely, and the least I can do is humor him.

Hearing the door chime, followed by Josh making his entrance.

“Welcome back,” I chuckle as he walks swiftly towards the bar.

“I need to use the lavatory, and then I will be ready to rock ‘n roll or whatever kids say nowadays,” Josh mutters.

You would think he’s nine hundred years old with how he talks sometimes, but it always keeps me on my toes. Watching as he disappears around the corner, I grab the older man’s glass and place it in the dirty bin.

The door chime goes off again, causing my head to whip around.

Oh, she’s here..?

As Charlotte slowly walks to the bar, I go to meet her at the opposite corner. I pull my phone out; she never replied?

“I didn’t think I would see you today,” I start as she approaches. Leaning down to grab everything I had been looking at, I stowed away when I couldn’t focus anymore.

“I have been reading through all of these, and I think you’re gonna need to explain these to me like I’m five–” I stop. I hadn’t looked at her face the entire time, and her eyes were pink and looked a bit swollen. She’s not making eye contact at all, which seems odd compared to the other afternoon, where I thought if she held my gaze any longer, I would explode. Was she crying? I questioned myself. I hope I didn’t cause this. Was she supposed to be off today? Oh my god, what if I’m the only reason she’s working?

Finally pulling myself out of my head, “Are you okay?”

She takes a shallow breath before looking up at me, and I can see that her eyes are fighting the urge to let the tears fall.

“Um,” she swallows, looking back down, “Yeah, I’m fine.” Her raspy voice is so quiet I can barely hear it. Her lip quivers as she stands there, and I can see the way her breathing is picking up. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

I hear the door to the bathroom open. Turning around, I shoot Josh a look. He makes eye contact with me as I bounce my eyes to Charlotte and back to him. I watch as he glances at her quickly, his eyes widening as if to say, ‘Do what you need to.’

I come out from behind the bar, grabbing her bag from the barstool it sat on.

“Come with me,” I whisper to her; she just nods in response.

I gently place my hand on her back, guiding her down the hall to my office. Just long enough to round the corner into the small room, she lets out the tiniest whimper I’ve ever heard. I toss her bag onto the chair, facing her as she finally breaks down. Her hands fly up to hide her face as she lets out the most heartbreaking sound. One sob was enough for me; I pushed the door closed behind her and pulled her into me.

“Oh, honey,” I let slip out, holding her small frame tight against me as she cried. I listen to her sobs against my chest as I run my hand down the back of her head, holding her close. I close my eyes to help focus my breathing; being in these situations never gets easier and I’ll never understand how I always end up in them.

“Take a breath for me,” I said quietly, trying to stay calm for her. I can feel her take a deep breath and shakily release it. Her arms drop from her face, finding their way around my back. Grabbing at my shirt gently, like she’s afraid I'll let her go.

“I’m right here. Take your time,” I whisper, pressing my lips gently to the top of her head, “You’re okay.”

We spend a few minutes like this. I keep rubbing slow circles on her back, resting my face against the top of her head to keep her tucked in.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask. I feel her shake her head ‘no’ before turning her face and leaning back against me, reaching up to push the hair out of her face. She lets out another shaky breath.

“I‘m so sorry,” she mumbles into me.

“Don’t apologize for having emotions.”

I lean back to look at her, her breathing starts to feel more normal.

She looks tired.

I don’t know what comes over me when I reach up, holding either side of her face and gently wiping the tear stains on her cheeks away.

Our eyes finally met; she really was beautiful— crying or not.

Her gaze doesn’t falter, her green eyes locked on me. She almost makes me nervous, not in a mean or intimidating way, but like I shouldn’t be allowed to look at someone who looks like her.

“Do you want to um-” I hesitate, “go get something to eat? While we talk about things. Not like a d-”

Despite her watery eyes, she huffs out a laugh.

“Stop,” she says, “I know what you mean. Yes, let’s do that.”

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We walked into the restaurant, and considering it’s only 4 p.m., it’s not very busy. I let her pick where we sit, following behind as she chose. She had a soft smile on her face as she claimed the booth seat like she just won a prize.

“Hi, can I please have a Boulevardier? ” Charlotte politely orders, my eyebrows raised at her choice.

“Actually, I’ll take the same thing,” I tell them, “Thank you.”

Charlotte pulled out the paperwork, flipping through it to see what I had left. Watching her green eyes flit across them, setting aside anything that needs more attention. The way that she chews the inside of her lip while she’s reading is endearing.

“Okay, so you haven’t missed too many things.” She tells me.

“Oh good,” I start picking at my lip, “I’m sorry, I just didn’t realize how much was involved.”

“That’s alright, Jacob. It’s a lot, and nobody generally explains this part of business to you.” Normally, I would cringe at my full name being used, but I just want her to keep saying it.

She pulled out one of the papers and turned it to face me. She pointed at the part I hadn’t filled out.

“So essentially, this means–” She begins explaining. Her eye contact is intense while she talks, which makes it incredibly hard to focus. I feel myself slowly smiling as she’s telling me. I glance at her mouth quickly, making it even more challenging to pay attention.

“What?”

Damnit. I raised my eyebrows with a small ‘mmm’.

“You looked like you wanted to say something?” She questions.

“Oh, I’m sorry– no, I was just listening.” There are a lot of things I could say.

“Oh– Well, anyway,” she shakes her head a little before continuing to explain.

I really wish that I could tell you what she’s explained to me at this point, but to be completely honest, I have no clue. I’ve been far too distracted by the freckles on her nose and the way her eyes twinkle under these lights. I can’t get over the green of her eyes, with subtle gold flecks in them. Her hair is perfectly curled, and how the color of it stands out against her blazer. She is unreal.

“Are you planning on doing that?” She asks, immediately pulling me out of my thoughts.

“Yeah, absolutely.”

“Great, Melody will really benefit from that,” she tells me. Benefit from what exactly?

“Do you need me to send you the information on that?” she quickly asks, grateful I’ll at least have context on what I’m agreeing to.

“Please, if you could,” I say quietly as I rub my eyes.

Our server stopped our conversation to take our order, giving me a second to try and refocus myself. She is trying to help you and isn’t being an asshole about it. The least you can do is pay attention to what she’s actually saying. Get it together.

“Okay anyway,” she starts again, “I think that’s everything?” She sifts through the papers.

“Amazing,” I breathe out. “I’m sorry I made you come out here to help.” I sit back in my chair, my hands falling into my lap, where I quietly dig at the side of my thumb.

“No, it’s okay, really,” she says, not making eye contact this time. “I was already in Portland, so it worked out.”

Her eyebrows pulled together as she told me, but I knew I shouldn’t ask. If she wanted to tell me what was wrong, she would. I’m not going to make her cry again.

“Well, I’m glad I caught you at the right time then,” I say, offering a small smile. Her face softens a bit, and she leans forward, propping herself up.

“So, how long ago did you buy the bar if it’s not even a year old?”

“About two years ago, actually,” I tell her, “We took our time renovating it to feel right.”

“We?”

“All the boys helped me, but Josh really did the most with making it look the way it does.” I usually have no issue talking about the bar, but her being even vaguely interested has my brain stalling.

“I love that. He did a good job curating,” she says, “Was the goal to be pirate-esque, or did it just end up that way?”

I chuckle, “No, it was intentional. I’ve always enjoyed pirates, even as a kid, so I felt like it just made sense.”

“I think it’s nice that you made it your own. There are enough modern hipster bars in the area. It’s a refreshing thing to walk into.”

Her compliment made my heart beat a little harder. I’m never one to assume, but she doesn’t strike me as someone who would hang out in a bar like mine. Granted, I guess I can’t really picture her hanging out in bars in general, but maybe that’s because I have always been a fan of the smaller, more dive bars. And I can confirm that I’ve never seen someone of her caliber in any of them.

Once our food is brought out, I ask her about how she got into working for the state. We quietly chatted about some of the situations that she’d walked into, which unintentionally made me feel much better about my slip-up. But simultaneously, it made me realize how terrible men can be. I can’t imagine yelling at her regardless of what she told me. People are awful.

The server brings over the check, and without hesitation, I slide my card into the little black folder and hand it back to them with a quiet, ‘Thank you.’ I bring my attention back over to her, her eyes a little wide but going back to normal as she continues telling me about another bar owner being a complete ass.

I fill out the slip, leaving cash for the tip, before looking up at her.

“Ready?” I ask. She just nods a few times before sliding out of the booth. I wave my hand in front of me, “After you m’lady.”

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“So, how far do you live from here?” I try to make some form of small talk on the way back to her car, avoiding the elephant in the room.

“I live in Skowhegan, so it’s a little hike,” she tells me, looking around at the area’s architecture, “but my family has a house on Sebago Lake, so it’s not as bad when I have to come down here.”

“Oh, I'm sure it’s peaceful over there.” I imagine how quiet that lake house must be this time of year. With minimal people vacationing or trying to fish on the lake, and it’s probably gorgeous in the mornings.

“It really is,” she says, looking down at her feet for a second, “Do you live close?”

“I actually live above the bar,” I laugh every time I tell someone, “I know that probably seems ridiculous.”

“Convenient, at least,” She giggles softly before looking at me with a smile. Oh, I’m gonna throw up.

“It’s a blessing and a curse,” I tell her, “Blessing when you can just roll out of bed and run downstairs if you oversleep, but a curse when I find myself in there most days.. And nights.” Pointing at the crosswalk, nobody was coming; I placed my hand on the small of her back as I led her into the street, shit, carefully pulling my hand back as she stepped off the sidewalk.

“You don’t get sick of being there?”

“You would think so, but no. I love it, even if working with my brothers can be an absolute chore sometimes.” I tell her.

She grabs my arm gently.

“I think that’s great, Jacob. It’s refreshing to hear someone love their job in this industry. It’s few and far between.” I glance over at her as she says it; my stomach has little knots forming as she squeezes my bicep a few times before pulling her hand back.

She points to her car, parked just a short distance ahead of us. I see her pulling her keys from her bag as we approach it, unlocking the doors. I open her door for her, watching her face redden a little at the gesture. As she’s settling into her seat, I notice a brochure-looking paper in her passenger seat before realizing there’s a photo on the front. And a name. Oh my god, Charlotte. That’s why she was so upset.

Setting her bag down in front of the pamphlet, she turned back to me with a soft smile, “How much should I send you for food?”

“Don’t worry about it,” I tell her.

“But, Jacob..”

“It was my idea. I’m not going to make you pay for that.” Also, it’s the least I can do, especially now.

“Okay,” she sighs. “Well, thank you for the food and walking me back here. I’m pretty sure I would have gotten lost.”

“Of course,” I tell her, “Drive safe.”

I go to close her door for her, and I don’t know what possessed me when I hesitate, “Actually—” what are you doing? “Let me know when you make it home? Just since it’ll be a little later.”

She nods subtly before saying, “Okay,” with a quiet laugh.

I bite at my bottom lip as I smile at her, gently shutting her door for her.

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“Now, where have you been?”

I haven’t even made it fully behind the bar, and I’m already getting harassed.

“It’s nice to see you too, Linda,” I laugh under my breath, “I had to take care of some paperwork, but I’m here now.”

Raising an eyebrow, she looks from me to my right, where Josh stands with a shit-eating grin. Oh, fuck me.

“And how was that paperwork, brother?” He says joyfully, emphasizing his skepticism with heavy air quotes.

And, here we go.

“The paperwork went well,” I side-eye him, “Thank you for asking.”

I watched the two of them share a look before looking back at me, and all I offered was a shrug in response.

“Why were you not in your office doing paperwork?” Linda questions as Eleanor joins her at the bar in their usual spots.

“Who wasn’t in the office?” Eleanor chimes in.

“Jake! He apparently went somewhere with someone to take care of paperwork,” Linda fills her in, like two school girls at lunch.

Rubbing my hand across my face, I turn around to dry some glasses while I’m interrogated further. I should have known my being nice to her would have me questioned.

“Well, that sounds like he went on a date,” Eleanor unknowingly agreeing with their past statements. Josh is the most enormous pain in my ass, I swear to god.

“It wasn’t a date!”

Josh laughed, “That sounds like something someone who went on a secret date would say.” I feel my body warm the more they talk about my “date.” WHICH WASN’T A DATE.

“Well, who paid?” Linda asks.

“Uhh… I did,” I hesitated to answer. “But- it was my idea to go there, so I didn’t want to make her pay anything.”

“Oh! You went with a girl?” Eleanor quietly questions.

“Yes, I needed help with some business stuff, and she was able to help me,” I tell her. “If she hadn’t come in so upset, I would have just been here the whole time.”

The ladies look at each other and then back at me before Eleanor pipes back up, “So what you’re saying is, I just need to come in here crying to score a date with you?”

A laugh falls out of me before I can even process what she’s said; at least someone has a sense of humor about all of this.

“That’s very nice of you to take her to lunch to try and help cheer her up, sweetheart,” Linda tells me. I smile at her compliment before putting away some of the glasses I had been drying. I feel Josh’s presence before he says anything, just setting some dirty glasses in the bin below the counter.

“Is she okay?” he whispers, leaning over to make sure nobody else heard.

“I don’t know, honestly,” I tell him, knowing I sound a little panicked about it.

“Did she say why she was upset?”

I shake my head ‘no’ before leaning over, “I saw one of those printouts you get at funerals in her car, and she was wearing all black, so I’m assuming that she uh—”

Josh covers his mouth and turns to look at me. If there’s one thing I know about my brother, it’s that he will absolutely empathize with anybody about anything.

“Oh shit,” he murmurs under his breath.

I can’t hide the look of concern on my face as we stare at each other for no more than a few seconds.

“She’ll be alright. You probably just caught a wave of grief, is all.” Josh says, grabbing my arm and giving it a few squeezes.

I let out a small breath. He’s right. She probably just hadn’t really let anything out, and I just asked the wrong question.

“You’re right,” I whisper back, patting the back of his hand on my arm, “I’m sure she’ll be fine.” But that isn’t going to stop me from worrying.

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Business picked up shortly after that, with all the tables full and chatter loud. It kept me from my thoughts, which is probably for the best. I’m grateful that Linda and Eleanor came in tonight; they always keep me busy.

I take small breaks from behind the bar to go check on the tables of people, collecting the empty glasses and bottles; sometimes, it’s nice to just mindlessly clean up. I spend a few minutes making small talk with some of the regulars, noticing the time as one of their phones lights up.

11:30 p.m. already? Where did the night go? I leave the table with a slight wave and head back to the bar to leave the dirty glasses. Setting them all on the back counter, I can tell Josh is caught up in whatever the ladies are telling him.

Rounding the corner into the hall, I quickly lock myself away in the bathroom. Pulling my phone out immediately, relief washes over me when I see her name sitting in my notifications. Thank god.

Charlotte: I made it home. Thank you again

Jake: I’m happy to hear that and of course

Jake: I hope everythings okay.

Sliding my phone back into my pocket, I head back into the bar. She’s home, at least there’s that.

“You can go if you want. I can handle the rest of the night,” I tell Josh quietly. He’s been here all day, and I definitely didn’t intend for him to cover the bar for that long.

“Are you sure?”

“Please, go get some sleep or call Quinn. Just get out of here while you can.”

He hands me the towel he was using and mouths ‘thank you’ as he slides by me; I really can’t blame him for being excited to go to bed. It’s been a long day.

The rest of the night seemingly flew by. A fair number of people, including Linda and Eleanor, left by 1 am, which meant I had to clock into my true Customer Service self for the last hour of the night. But it’s always nice when people start to trickle out early so that I can start cleaning up to close and make my life a little easier.

I’m leaning against the back counter talking to the last few customers, and I can’t help but let my mind wander. What if she’s still upset? There’s nothing I can do to help that situation, and that’s okay. Maybe she just needs a friend right now. I could do that? Or maybe she’s already told her friends, and Josh was right. Was she just having a moment? Oh god, what if she has a boyf-

My phone vibrates, pulling my attention away from my internal spiral. 1:57 a.m. Thank god.

Charlotte: It will be, i’m sorry that you had to witness that.

Jake: don’t apologize, i’m glad i was able to help..i hope?

Charlotte: It did help, truly.

That makes my heart feel a little weird. Don’t get ahead of yourself.

Jake: well.. if you need anything, let me know?

I set my phone down underneath the bar and started printing the tabs for the last customers who were sitting. I went through the motions as I put the papers out front of each of them with a pen. I watch as they sign on the line, possibly leaving a tip; either way, I’m not bothered. Leaving with a friendly ‘Have a good one,’ I follow behind them, locking the doors and shutting off the neon lights. Happy to know that I have hardly anything left to do.

The brisk air hits me as I lock the back door, and I practically run up the stairs. Opening the door, it’s quiet. He must be asleep then. I carefully walk through the apartment, cracking his door open to see him tucked away in bed.

“Goodnight, Josh,” I whisper, pulling his door shut gently.

I shut my door as softly as I could, immediately pulled my flannel off, and tossed it on the end of my bed. Followed by my jeans before I grab my phone from my nightstand. 2:34 a.m. I open my messages to see her name sitting there with the blue, unread messages dot glowing back at me.

Charlotte: I may take you up on that.

Why is she still awake? It’s so late.

Jake: I hope you do

Be more obvious, Jake, come on..

Jake: Also why are you still up? lol

It changes from ‘delivered’ to ‘read’ almost instantly. I watch the typing bubbles pop up, making my stomach turn.

Charlotte: I just haven’t been tired enough to sleep, but I think I’m getting there.

Jake: After everything, I figured you’d be exhausted

Charlotte: You would think lol

Dropping my phone next to me. I rub my hands down my face. Trying to get the look on her face just before she cried out of my mind. ‘I’m so sorry’ in her sad little voice, playing on a loop. The sounds of her sobs against my chest, her shaking in my arms. I almost wish that I didn’t know why she was upset now.

Jake: well don’t let me keep you up

This time, my message sat on delivered for a few minutes. I did my daily scroll on mindless apps and looked at the few new photos people had tagged the bar in before she replied.

Charlotte: You’re not a bother at all, but I should probably try to sleep before it gets too much later.

Charlotte: Goodnight Jacob

My mind ran through all the ways that I could reply. How I’d love to tell her that I’m sorry for her loss and that I hope everything gets better. Even that, I had a lovely time talking to someone outside of my family and their partners for more than a few minutes as I served them a beer. It felt like we could be friends even, with the way she didn’t seem phased by any of the vaguely nerdy things I said. Unfortunately, my hands settled on something more straightforward, and I quickly hit ‘send.’

Jake: sleep well, Charlotte

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Chapter Four

Chapter Six

FDOG Masterpost | Masterlist | FDOG Playlist

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hellhound5925 · 1 year ago

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While I’m wrapping up my next chapter of my Hunter fic, I’m going to leave you with this! Side note: that post a made a while ago about fucking up myself over something I wrote? This…this is that something….

One shot- Sargent Hunter

Tattoos (Part One)

Warnings: Idk if I have any at the moment. Part Two will be smut 😏 so I guess no minors 🤷‍♀️

Summary:

Being a man who has a face tattoo for Makers sake, he was naturally drawn to them. The first time he really saw your tattoos, with the symbols covering one of your arms, he was drawn to you like a winged insect to a funeral pyre (Yes I used Sleep Token, Take me back to Eden lyrics...leave me alone).

This is going to take place during the time where the batch helps rebuild Pabu. It’s going to have two parts because I can’t wait for you all to read what I’ve got 😂 I hope you enjoy! Let me know your thoughts!

Pabu was typically quite beautiful this time of year...the sun, high in the sky which creates an ungodly heat that only the cool ocean water could provide relief from. Birds chirping above and moon-yos chasing one another along the rock walls. However, in the last few days, they had endured a sea surge that destroyed a significant amount of the lower levels. It was the first one more than three decades…

Those big brown eyes followed you everywhere you went as you helped the villagers clean up the mess. Eye brows raised slightly, a gentle smile tugging at the corner of his lips....he was mesmerized watching you, your kindness and compassion shining bright during such a dark time. Drawing him in like a moth to a flame.

He watched as the tattoos on your arm were peaking out from underneath the sleeve of your shirt, as you rolled it up to your elbow. Tracing them with his eyes, the ink would forever be ingrained in his mind. Haunting him while he slept. He wanted to know if you had more...he needed to...

“Why do you always stare at her like that?” Omega pulls him from his thoughts. “I wasn’t staring.” “Yes you were.” Huffing a sigh Hunter pretends to busy himself by moving the baskets of fish Wrecker caught. “You do seem a little distracted Sarge” He chimes in. Hunter cocks an eye brow, “We’ve got a lot to do before the end of the day.” “Copy that” the two say in unison.

Wrecker returns to fishing while he follows Omega with his eyes as she bounds off after you. She tugs at the back of your shirt causing it to lift ever so slightly, and could have sworn he saw the shadow of yet another tattoo. What could it be?

———

After spending half a day in the sun and feeling the effects of the heat, you and Omega had gone down to the shore for a swim. Hunter was always checking in, so it was only a matter of time before he made his way down. Sure enough he came and sat under a tree along the shore.

He watched as you interacted with Omega, the sweet sound of your laugher filled his ears. It was like a siren song, calling out to him and drawing him in. He tried to ignore it because after all, he was there to be a watchful eye not be distracted. Huffing out a sigh, he returned to his protective nature by scanning the area for threats and trusting that his senses would also alert him.

As you made your way out of the water towards him, he got a view of the tattoos that covered your arm. The way they crawled down your arm from your shoulder entangling in intricate designs as they made their way down to your wrist. The dark black ink, a beautiful contrast to your lighter sun kissed skin, glistened with water droplets as they rolled down your arm.

His eyes roamed your body as more of it emerged from the water. Revealing yet another tattoo. This one, on your ribs just below your right breast was the image of a wolf. The placement was just so, that it the wolf was running from your back towards the center of your core. The fierce animal quite the representation of the person whose skin was etched into.

By the time you were back on the shore, there was one final tattoo that sent him over the edge. As you approached him, he was unable to look away. Sheepishly you look down, turning your leg so he can get a better view.

“Do you like it? I got it a while ago but never had the chance to show you. I hope it’s okay?” You voice drowning out everything else, his senses were hyper focused on you.

The vibrant ink and indicator that it was newer than the others, sent a rush of sensual gratification through his veins. Placed on the outside of your calf was a skull that was identical to the ones the batch had hand painted on their armor so long ago, similar to the one that covered half of his own face.

At a complete loss for words, he nods his approval while shifting uncomfortably to conceal the arousal that was awakened by the sight of the ink in your skin. Finding himself slightly jealous of the intimacy it had with you. His eyes slowly make their way up your thigh to your core, stopping briefly at the tattoo on your ribs, before traipsing up your arm revising the ink he’s seen so many times, and meeting your gaze.

The realization of his eyes so intimately roaming your body, paints itself all over your face. Butterflies erupt from somewhere deep in your core. Biting your lip to contain the euphoric giggle that threatens to escape, you watch as his eyes flick down to them.

Omega interrupts the moment, “I’m going to head back up to the others.” Hunter answers without breaking eye contact, “see you back up there.” Out of the corner of your eye, you see her cock her head at you both before bounding off towards the stone stairs. You both stay there in silence, search one another’s gaze for the right words.

You are the one to break eye contact first, causing him to shift awkwardly as if he’s unsure of what to do. Standing up he finally speaks “I guess I uhhh…should go see what they’re up to.” Disappointment sinks from yours chest into your stomach like a heavy anchor as you watch him head up the stone steps, Omega had just a few moments ago. Sighing you decide it’s worth heading back to your place for a change of cloths.

Part Two here

Taglist (let me know if you want to be added): @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @cloneloverrrrr @idoubleswearimawriter @maybethatfanfictionwriter @techs-goggles9902

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r1-jw-lover · 9 months ago

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Caine as John Wick's Mirror: Part 2

Part two?! Really?

Actually, I was quite satisfied with the analysis I previously wrote on Caine, but then I just rewatched the first John Wick movie and now I have even more thoughts to add on the subject matter.

So buckle up because this is going to be another long post.

Tagging @evren-sadwrn, @chaoticgardenbread and @jotunvali02 again. <3

In my last analysis, I have already compared Caine with Cassian due to how similar they function in relation to John within the John Wick universe. This time, let us compare Caine with the next most similar character to him in the John Wick franchise: Marcus.

On the surface level, Caine and Marcus have similar arcs within the movie they appeared in. They are both friends of John Wick who were recruited by the villain to hunt and kill the Baba Yaga but deep down were secretly on John Wick's side.

While Marcus agreed to Viggo's contract out of his own free will whereas Caine was blackmailed and threatened by the Marquis, they would eventually forsake the job given to them and choose to give John a helping hand in a moment of crisis, a decision they were willing to die for.

(The sad and tragic part of it is that only one survived and got to live out his happy ending and the other was punished for it and died.)

The more I think about it though, the more I feel this is where the similarities end.

For one, Marcus looked way older than John, likely closer to Viggo in age. Even so, he hadn't retired from the business, and was living quite comfortably in a large apartment in New York alone. (It's almost as if Marcus is an alternate version of John if he didn't choose to marry Helen and had continued to live on his life as an assassin.)

By comparison, John was retired, and while he had a large bungalow in the New York suburbs to live in, the large wide empty spaces of his home seemed to amplify how lonely John felt after losing Helen.

Marcus: How're you holding up? John: I kept asking why her. Marcus: There's no rhyme or reason to this life. It's days like today scattered among the rest.

As much as his comforting words were sound, Marcus was content with his own life, and John clearly wasn't. On top of the implication that Marcus didn't have any family whatsoever, you can see why John immediately questioned Marcus about his intentions of visiting him after Helen's funeral right after the quoted dialogue above.

John was too drowned in his grieving for his wife's passing at the time that no one's condolences, not even Marcus (the person who Viggo claimed John was close with), could truly comfort him.

Because John wasn't done grieving while he was alive, when Iosef killed Daisy, John went on a rampage to avenge his dog. When Santino burned down his house, John shot him on Continental grounds, the supposedly safest haven in the criminal underworld. When John sacrificed his ring finger to the Elder, he rebelled against the High Table's forces head on alongside the New York Continental.

You know what finally made John Wick stop running, accept his death and find his peace?

It was when Caine comes into the picture.

For the first time in a long time, John had found someone who's similar in age as him and in a position similar to him mentally and emotionally-speaking, more so than anyone else in the franchise.

Just like John, Caine was also retired. He was discontent with his life, and he was lonely, due to the sheer fact that Caine wasn't allowed to get close to his daughter.

Despite being on opposite sides, John and Caine were equally caged by a strong sense of helplessness internally. (Where John acted upon it with defiant rage, Caine responded with palpable fear.) That's why we're rooting for both of them to get their unconditional freedom, and why the sunrise duel is so important not just for plot reasons.

Unlike Marcus, Caine had an innocent family member at stake, and because John intimately knew how it felt to lose a loved one, he ultimately sacrificed his life so to prevent Caine from having to experience the same grief John had painstakingly gone through for four entire films.

And that's something John was finally willing to die for.

(It's unfortunate that within the same movie John had unknowingly created another John Wick in Akira, but that is an entirely different story altogether.)

#john wick #jw4 #john wick 4 #john wick chapter 4 #caine #caine jw #caine john wick #marcus jw #marcus john wick #john wick analysis #character analysis #keanu reeves #donnie yen #long post

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yourleftpinkytoe-blog · 11 months ago

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Aftg x FNAF fic idea.

BACKGROUND

February, 1997- drake spear is (dishonorably) discharged from the marines.

the spear family decides to purchase a local pizza place (the upper middle class family thought it would be a good environment to raise foster kids also it’s a place where Richard can put his robotic prowess to use)

they have had two (foster kids) so far and for some reason none of them stick.

June, 1997- drake moves out of his parents house.

July, 1997- the business takes off under the spears management.

Children love the robots.

October, 1997- a child goes missing at the restaurant.

The police questioned the owners but determined none had anything to do with it.

They were wrong.

March, 1998- 12 year old Andrew Doe was placed in the care of the spears.

Two months later he meets drake (he was busy with the investigation and didn’t want to risk getting caught)

Andrew got quiet after that. (more so than usual)

The next two years are basically the same as canon for Andrew except the existence of Freddy Fazbears.

June, 2000- four children go missing at the pizzeria.

Drake tries to make Andrew watch the last one.

Andrew fights back(for the first time)

He couldn’t care less about himself but he draws the line at watching drake hurt other kids.

June, 2000- the Andrew Doe became the fifth victim of the 2000 missing children’s incident.

None of the children’s bodies are found.

Backtrack to two years earlier.

The business is loosing patronage because of the first murder.

Nathan Wesninskie, mob boss and serial killer, Nathan sees the goings down and decides to invest in the company to keep it going.

{Idk his reasoning but bare with me here}

Back in July, 2000- Nathan sends Lola and the newly caught Alex Nathaniel to clean up drakes mess.

Dead kids is not something Nathan wants to publicly be associated with.

Nathaniel tries to run.

Andrew gains a friend.

They are two enraged and vengeful souls stuck in the same vessel.(golden Freddy)

The actual story

Aarons pov. October 2000

He’s alone.

His mom is distant and neglectful.

But she’s never hurt him.(in canon she doesn’t start hurting him till after he contacts Andrew)

She’s high a lot.

She had a date with some guy and she lets him come with her. It’s at an exy game.

He likes exy.

This stranger keeps calling him Andrew and asking where he’s been.

He’s a police officer .

He has had a twin.

He steals his mom’s pills to ease the ache of what could have been.

He hates his mom for giving Andrew away. He hates the spears for letting Andrew out of their sight, he hates Officer Huggins for telling him about Andrew, most of all he hates himself for not being able to do anything to help Andrew.

His mom takes one too many pills when he’s 16, he doesn’t cry at her funeral.

He’s lucky Nicky cares.

They greave the “what if” together.

He’s 20, with a scholarship at palmetto university. He plays exy with Nicky.

He likes exy

He wonders if Andrew would have liked exy.

He’s been sober for years.

He and Matt really helped each other with their sobriety.

Kate also helps.

Every year on the date of his brothers disappearance he goes to the memorial. (There are no grave for a missing nobody, a Doe)

The spears knew but they didn’t want to think about it.

If they pretend Andrew never existed, then it never really happened, right.

Someone else is at the memorial.

Hes never really believed the spears were entirely innocent

the lady tells him about Freddy fazbears

She looks like a broken woman

(She lost her son)

Something doesn’t feel right

Over summer break he gets a job as a nighttime security guard.

His family comes with him for moral support (the foxes)

He is going to find out what happened to his brother.

And Andrew is going to fucking kill anyone who tries to hurt him or any of the other children.

(In his eyes anyone who is there at night is a threat)

Nothing good had ever happened when someone comes near him at night.

Then stuff happens and Aaron eventually finds out what happened to Andrew and he kills drake. In the end Andrew, Neil and the other kids are set free.

The sub plot would involve Andrew and Neil slowly growing to trust each other and the other dead kids forming a bond that starts to heal their mental wounds. Kinda their both still angry and vengeful ghosts who’s only purpose (in their minds) is to protect the other kids)

Andrew died fighting for them and that followed him into death and Neil ran when he saw Andrew’s corpse and although he ran for himself after death he feels unexplainably protective over Andrew.

NOT A ROMANTIC STORY FOR NEIL AND ANDREW. THEIR RELATIONSHIP IS PLATONIC BECAUSE THEY ARE FOURTEEN AND THIRTEEN AND DEAD. (They don’t need romance they need some who will stand unwavering at their side)

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feuqueerfire · 5 months ago

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A Shop for Killers Live Blogging

I almost started watching My Stand-In (8 eps out) but am feeling a pull for this instead. I knew this had Lee Dong Wook when I came across it but forgot until right now when looking at the poster again haha. I'm hoping it's fun and action-packed and interesting.

Ep 1 (June 18)

that was pretty interesting intro, some guy trying to kill Jian and the woman in the house seems a danger too and maybe also the other guy who was lying down

They don't write Jian's full name in the subs even though the characters are clearly saying Jung Jian

머더헬프 = Murder Help? Mother Help? the translations say "murthehelp" but what?

so is the intro going to come up later? I don't think it said anything about "_ ago" or "_ later" when this scene started...

he's dead?! well i'd like to see his body to make sure it's not a fakeout

1 year ago

Her uncle is 1) expecting some sort of attack and preparing for it and 2) terrorizing people who wrong them/Jian

the last thing he said to her was her student number? but that was a 1 year ago, they haven't had any contact since then or what

ayo what the hell, we're getting to see the body? and it's actually him, not some other guy to pretend he died?

Is the synopsis that the uncle dies? idk why I thought her parents died, so she started living with her uncle

what does the tattoo say

oh lmfao it says murthehelp, I suppose the episode title was correct indeed

Does Bae Jeongmin know anything? or involved in any way? he's offering to clean the bathroom where Jinman died and he could be just being nice or hiding something

Comrade Lee Yonghan - name to remember?

Jeongmin found a (burner?) phone hm

drama at the funeral

Jinman was helping out everybody with money troubles in secret?

lived together for 10 years? so 1 year ago, did she move out?

aw, Jian breaking down alone at home

gun selling website behind the hose business

how many ppl are on her ass bruh

Ep 2 (June 18)

jinman's name 3 times to the sky

bro wtf did Jinman do for everybody to be hating him or seeking revenge or somethingggg? Did his enemies kill his mother and come to kill his brother and SIL?

the same burner phone a decade ago

[Linguistics] They keep using 금방, which I didn't know meant soon but that's fun. it's the syllables switched of 방금, which means just now/a moment ago. short time in the future vs past.

this guy who knows the password reminds me a bit of Wi Hajoon for some reason. I should watch a show with him soon

I've had recurring nightmares as a child and pre-teen about home invasions and such people coming to our house and having to escape like this. so proud of little Jian for escaping

who did the car hit? Jian? why'd it seem like a grown man running towards the house though, it wouldn't be Jinman, right?

this is so fucked up man, her escaping the hospital room and having to hide in the morgue in a little space beside her mother's corpse and she didn't even fully know that the parents are dead

why is he so mean to her lakjdf let's kill him, especially cuz he's the reason her parents and grandma are dead anyway

can't go one korean show without some terrible bully children

fuckkk this bringing her back to that day and getting mad that he came so late despite saying he'd be right back and finally speaking again

hm, the woman with the bob left but she's gonna be back to get caught in the fire with her and Jeongmin later

Ah, a shop for killers; he has a shop where killers can buy

is Jian Code Green?

well, they killed him and are now coming for her, so much for code green

What's up with all this? They banded together to kill Jinman, I'm assuming? And now that he's dead, they're getting rid of their codes (literally in their bodies), and going to kill his niece? Why?

Ep 3 (June 18)

damn, he's on some drugs. and he's faking it to see what Jian would do or something I guess? what are the chances he's doing it again right now by faking his death?

What was that? Does Jeongmin also have a code thing in him? or ig not since it said Error

oh, is the woman actually here to help/protect Jian? I'd noticed that she wasn't with all the men who were planning on killing Jian at the end of last ep

does this woman speak Korean with an accent?

So we aren't counting bullets with the little pistol ig

close the workshed door at least

Brother... also a helper?

Ep 4 (June 19)

damn

name to remember: Bale

oh, is that "Brother" guy the same guy? I couldn't see his face

oh, that's Pasin

Is Pasin also dead, hope not

yesss Jian Muay Thai expert

pls the karaoke guy always singing at the restaurant while watching TV -> singing on TV is so fun

The Minsook girl seems like she could do so much better than hanging out with those bully, cowardly boys (i think it's funny that she stole Jinman's watch but after getting stared down, returned it and apologized). i hope she'll show up again

Damn, Pasin ran off with people's money?

D: these cameras

Brother's working with Mihye

Oh, Jeongmin suddenly becoming bolder/harsher and stopping Brother guy from speaking... just as he's about to give more info...

Brother says to not trust Jeongmin... but Jeongmin doesn't trust Brother... I don't trust either fully

Brother says Jinman's died because of Jeongmin but he doesn't know how

Brother and Jeongmin at each other's throats and Jian's guy pointed at Jeongmin. who to trust?

why would clicking on 0404 kill them... Jeongmin...

Weapon shopping mall

Mihye does know Brother, though I assume she met him as a child

...choosing Jeongmin?

ah, I did wonder for a second whether at least Jinman wouldn't think that Jeongmin had locker her in because how would Jeongmin know where she was even at night + not go get anybody?

well, Jeongmin turning out to not be good isn't a surprise, especially the way he started behaving once Brother was here but from when I suspected him at the start + started suspecting him again in the middle of this episode, they were good at making me go like hm, perhaps he's not evil

good parallel with Jinman being like you must be responsible for your choices and Jian's decision to keep it meant she witnessed the cat's death and also her decision to trust Jeongmin over Brother resulted in her current predicament.

Jian was dumb to trust Jeongmin but people are seriously being too mean and flippant about her in the reddit on-air thread, makes me frown.

Ep 5 (June 19)

a manual labour part-time job, not website-making

he's not working on his own obviously, he's got some other people he answers to. seems like the big draw is money?

oh yeah, I'd wondered if he had somehow known about the site already when he was first "finding" it with Jian but it was a passing thought

hmmm these people who recruited Jeongmin basically, are they the ones who killed Jian's parents and grandma? And are they ones who were at Jinnam's funeral? Because those people didn't seem to be the weapons buyers who were trying to kill Jian

Damn, the other guy really just got shot in the head

I guess Jeongmin's actor cute baby face helps sell this sort of role because I think they said he was a killer in Blind or something too

cameras everywhere, including seeing Jeongmin mess around

so those people want access to murthehelp?

Naur, how could Jinman fall for a fake recording of Jian? I don't even know if she'd call for help from this like that... wouldn't it be Jeong Jinman x3? Maybe he's playing bc girl what. I think he'd at least just call her phone straight up just to see

damn that's wild, he just believed that 5 second recording and killed himself while believing that the people who supposedly kidnapped his niece would let her go if he dies? doubt it. i think he's still alive or Something bc wtf

right, so the show also knows that's way too easy...

btw where are Mihye and Brother?

oh lmfao they just left her there to fend for herself

oh yeah, I was wondering what he'd done secretly when he remodeled the house

hm, so Babylon also came? and the two teams are working together now or what?

hilarious "[the killer robot dog] is gonna steal our jobs later, you know"

this fight/shooting scene is so video game-y to me

why didn't Brother get the gun from the hallway and sneak up on the guy or something? good thing Pisan got here at the perfect time ig

We found out stuff behind Jinman's death and who's behind it but I still found this ep boring somehow...

Ep 6 (June 20)

ngl I wanna just finish this show and be done with it today so maybe I'll watch at 1.25x (I did that for the second half of ep 5 last night) unless I start Really liking it and wanna savour it

So seems like backstory is: Jinnam was doing stuff and killing people or whatever in a big team, which included Bale. Then 14 years ago he saw Bale kill a child in cold-blood because "there can't be witnesses." The killers here all seem trained and capable. He probably leaves/runs away and that's why he finally goes to his family but Bale and the people are all chasing him and killing his family and want to kill him. because of him as a witness or some other reason? I think 13 years ago Jian was living with Jinman so it makes sense ig

oh, so they were mercenaries and the mission was to take that guy to safety but Bale killed civilians.

damn, Jinman lied on the stand for Bale

Bale is scary af

Enough scantily clad women in vulnerable positions i feel ill and upset every time

is this Mihye?

ah, Bale literally saying that he'd kill all of Jinman's family and friends if he's still alive

he said he'd take out Jinman last... but Jian is still left... idk I'm just looking for clues that he's still alive somehow lmfao

ah, no more bullets to properly take out Bale but they assumed he was dead

Who is the person who's supposed to be tailing Jinman?

Bale didn't give Jinman time to Breathe, mans went back to his family and Immediately they started dropping like flies

I liked this ep, action, backstory, and answers. and also perhaps a more engaging story or maybe just the sort of story i'm more in the mood for rather than the other episodes.

Also, Lee Dongwook looked good whenever he had his hair down like toward the end of the ep when he's out of uniform and has the bandaid on his face.

Ep 7 (June 20)

is the guy who Mihye's staying with the same guy who went to save Jian but then got killed + his arm chopped off?

ohh, it must be him because I'm remembering that he also typed the answer on the phone to show Jian, right? and he uses sign language here too. though is he the one who called Jinman when his brother died? probably not

ohhh these fuckers orchestrated that murder-suicide story for Jian's parents

wait the deaf friend who I've been thinking has a nice face is named Honda here and he was also the main character in The Director Buys Me Dinner?!

so even the guy who gave the warning actually did it so that Jinman would leave and be ambushed

oh yeah, I'd wondered if the car broken down lady was actually part of the plan and seems like yeah

so not just Bale's conspiracy but entire Babylon wants Jinman dead because he lied about what happened and how Bale "died"

He needs a long-term plan... and that's why he's either not dead or died knowing exactly what was going to happen after

Aw, Pasin, Mihye, Brother, Jian all in that house

I'm liking the backstory episdoes. I liked the backstory in earlier episodes of young Jian when people were dying and how her and Jinman interacted but then I got bored of the backstories in the middle of when she was a teenager because it felt like we weren't getting scenes that needed half the episode to itself but these two episodes were interesting to see why everything was happening and the story just interested me more. Interesting use of flashbacks though because in the earlier eps, we were doing 50-50 flashbacks and current time, both in Jian's POV but now we've done 100% flashbacks in Jinman's POV.

Last ep, 1 hour left, we'll see how they wrap it up.

Ep 8 (June 20)

parallels with her hiding in her room while this fucker's out to get her

oof, Brother dead

It's really not fun to have everybody fighting and dying while Jian just stands and watches in horror even while everybody's telling her to run, thus also distracting them. either help or escape bruh

okay I defended Jian from people calling her stupid in like the ep 4 reactions or whatever but she's so frustrating now. i get she Wants To Know What Happened but just giving away her position and trying to talk to this guy is so... like he literally has a gun

dying, the way the guy was talking about and to Jeongmin before and after killing him was really funny

oh lol Brother was wearing a bulletproof vest. but on that note, what about Mihye? and also I can't believe it's seeming more and more like Jinman truly just offed himself over a fake recording like actually wtf, like he actually would not do that he can't be so stupid

okay she did it, clean bullet through the head, good job Jian

ah, so every killer came to kill them all because Babylon was offering bounty for their deaths. but what about Bale? or is he just fine w Jinman dead or thought dead or whatever

so funny, they're all like yaaas tax-free prize + sales on weaponry

thought the bus would have Jinman lol

okay, duh. ofc he's alive duh and comes right after Jian has managed to escape/survive/etc.

Kind of anticlimactic but tracks with what we've seen in the earlier eps I guess. Also, no Bale? Some people on the on-air thread said we're supposed to assume that maybe Jinman was fighting with Bale and that's why he's weak and bruised? idk.

Overall:

Interesting premise + interesting execution with all the flashbacks, especially because it was like eps 1 - 4: about half is flashbacks to Jian's childhood/growning up with Jinman/teenagehood in her POV, ep 5: Jeongmin's POV flashback for about half, eps 6 - 7: almost entirely Jinman POV flashbacks, ep 8: almost no flashbacks. I think I liked some of the early Jian's POV eps (ep 2 comes to mind) and quite enjoyed eps 6 - 7 which gave us more backstory. I do have to say the flashbacks cutting through the current action was sometimes bothersome, especially after we'd established important stuff in the first few eps and were showing stuff in the middle episodes that didn't need as much screentime, specifically Jian's teenage life. I thought ep 5 was also weak af.

I found Jinman intriguing and mysterious and understood him despite being frustrated with how he treated Jian at times. Jian I liked way more at the beginning but then started being kind of annoyed toward the end at times. Mihye was soooo cool.

It was a surprisingly funny show, especially in regard to how this is just a job for these mercenaries and killers lol

The ending was a bit anticlimactic in terms of how things were resolved + there was a bunch of important threads that were unfinished (aiming for a season 2?). I wasn't surprised by the ending but I don't know if they were aiming for that anyway, I think they knew the audience to predict it and were okay with it.

idk what to rate it, like it's fine, I liked it well enough, likely will never think about it again, but may watch season 2 if it ever airs. I guess I liked it more than Killed Paradox (I actually barely remember that show, esp the second half? nothing in my brain)

Rating: 6.5/10

#a shop for killers #ep by ep commentary

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tankgotstuckinthecircusgate · 8 months ago

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Crazy but I saw you said Henry used to be your favorite so do you have some headcanons to share with us?

i'm glad you asked, actually! i've been writing a fic about him for 2 months (someday i'll finish it) so i have some thoughts on his character. but i haven't shared them because well, let's just say that mafia 2 is super valuable to me for honestly revealing not the best human traits (and i'm trying to make these mf even worse) and henry is like. fandom's fav boy so i just didn't really want to get burned at the stake like some kind of a witch

anyway 1) about henry’s family i've seen a lot of hc about him being the youngest + spoiled child. but for some reason it seemed to me from the beginning that he was the middle child and clearly not spoiled. and it's not about an abusive childhood full of deprivation, no. i think inside his family was quite cold (maybe not from the beginning, but if you take henry as the middle child - it had time to become so by the time he was raised). i think henry's mom wasn’t exactly tough, but strict (have you ever talked to mothers who raised multiple sons practically alone? i have and they’re some of the strongest and toughest women i know). and I think she took on the main responsibilities of parenting because her husband just didn't have time for it.

and then there's the whole Sicilian conformity thing (this reminds me of a story of an acquaintance of mine whose mother wouldn’t let him go to the store to buy bread as a child until he put on a suit and tie. he was seven or so btw)

especially since henry's mother had to organize the emigration of the family and the Empire Bay settlement all by herself (i.e. i'm sure there was help from clemente, but the point here is to create a home(!) in a new place in a new country. emigration is often a heartbreaking situation in general, and when you flee to another country to survive, it's hard. you also have to stay strong because you’re responsible for an entire family). i based this whole story of coldness within the family on one (1) documentary about mafia families (it’s called mafia women i think??women of mafia??? i dont remember) and my hair just stood on end at how far from normal relations within the families are. i.e. if his family found out he was a rat, they wouldn't come to his funeral, and if he survived, they would consider him dead. it's wild, but interesting. the fact that even in the families slides mafia traditions back to henry and how his upbringing affected him.

arrogance - memories of how his family was treated in sicily.

coldness - his parents' prohibition of weakness/emotionality. this is where his outbursts of aggression come from - repressed emotions always lead to a breakdown.

critical of others - rare praise from his parents.

wounded pride - he lives in the shadow of his father and perhaps more successful brothers. a sense of competition, to which he reacts not by wanting to grab his rival by the throat, but by trying to hide and run away from it, just so that these feelings don't torment him. an attempt to change his mind and pretend that he is really cool and successful (instead of actually doing something. fake it till u make it only without making it). he's trying to be lana del rey but really he's just an aggressive wounded dog. maybe a flea-bitten one

mistrust of people is probably a consequence of the fact that mafia families are closed and live in a very detached space (?)

anyway. it's absolutely 100% henry to me:

+ henry in relation to vito and joe (at least at first? can't say i thought much about their relationship to each other)

+ closure because of the trauma of death. because of the deep understanding that in this business it’s useless to have close ties, friends, love, anything. in the end you will lose everything. and for what?

2) henry and religion i've been wanting to write about this for so long, but i thought (still think) i'd get kicked to death for it

anyway, i'm sure henry's religiosity is totally hypocritical and selfish

hypocrisy - "if they wanna kill themselves so badly i'll gladly help them out. especially for twenty grand". excuse me. suicide is considered one of the worst sins in christianity (at least in orthodox christianity). that phrase couldn’t be uttered by a man who truly believes in god. not to mention what he does for a living.

religiosity is his way of asserting himself, his way of standing above others. the way he (not directly?) chides vito and joe for not going to church. it's actually an attempt to humiliate the other person and show that "i'm better than you".

and!!!! it's funny!!!! he believes in superstition!!!!! as far as i remember it's against christianity. booo poser 🙄

it's funny that he tries to appear to be a religious man and yet he's in the most abusive family in the city

nevertheless i think he donates money to the church but it's all some kind of payoff attempt too! not sincere!!!

3) random analysis - to me he is a fatalist! hence the lack of ambition. fate is inexorable and cannot be changed. maybe it's the trauma of emigration and upbringing, reinforced by the fact that he never succeeded. the idea of henry being a fatalist is based on his "it's the 13th contract, it’s a jinx" etc. lack of ambition due to fatalism - you blame external circumstances/fate for your own failure. maybe he broke his bones a lot as a kid and stuff, maybe he's got a reputation for failure? i don't know. not because he's bad, but because all sorts of bad things keep happening to him for some inexplicable reason (maybe if he prays especially hard it will go away?)

- the further he goes, the more he moves towards a crisis and a fractured personality. frustration, big losses that he couldn't deal with and that just weren't worth it (betty's death probably had something to do with criminality; i think almost all of his brothers were criminals and some died). and i have a hc about clemente who was going to make henry a capo after luca died. but then chapter 10 happened and everything was ruined. such a crisis could be a reason to work for the feds, or it could be an attempt to make a big score with objectively very little chance of success (............. or to become a don, which is the plot of my fic). either way, all of these actions to me lie in deep despair and entrapment

- hypocrite hypocrite hypocrite hypocrite

- funny how he positions himself as a professional even though in the game he fails every time (character = actions, not words). i don't know, maybe he was once good, maybe it's wounded pride and he never admits to himself that he's not good at "the one thing he's good at" and considering this dialogue:

the situation is again quite tragic. it's like "im no artist i've wasted my life". i can totally understand that feeling and it's very hard. to me he's a man trapped in a world he can't get out of. he's trapped in a cage of a life he didn't choose (i think that may be one of the reasons he started working for the feds).

4) henry and betty i think they had a lot of genuine love for each other (..... unlike falcone and lauretta who are much more complicated) and for some reason i like to think that he and betty met because they lived next door to each other in neighboring apartments (the first scene with them in my head was betty looking out of the window and seeing henry in the next window taking dried clothes off the ropes that run between the houses. idk i like to think that he was helping with the household). and it does somehow seem very natural and right that betty was more proactive and that their relationship started because of her (he probably pushed her away at first btw?)

if betty was killed by one of the families, henry never had a vendetta (probably clemente didn't allow it? one of the first reasons henry has a growing disgust for alberto)

5) random hcs - he knows francesca. very fucked up story because to francesca, henry is just a low-key polite christian (which evokes simple human sympathy), but he is actually the person who put her brother in jail. a person who commits the most heinous sins on an almost daily basis. henry doesn't know francesca is vito's sister either - if henry had spent more time with vito and joe: henry projects his traumas onto joe and vito: "you're so fucking naive." but then at some point he gets a brotherly instinct toward them - when eddie came to collect some of the profits from the drug deal he greeted henry with a punch in the face 🙂 personal grudge among other things (and since henry has many addresses, eddie went to each one and only the last one was correct. man was on the verge of a mental breakdown) - vinci and henry really are distant relatives - in the short time that henry and eddie have been working together (i want to believe that they’ve been working together), they have grown attached to each other. they’re opposite personalities, but they share a deep sense of loss and loneliness (in that don henry fic, there's a gunfight scene where henry and eddie are on opposite sides of the conflict and neither of them dares to shoot the other. eddie resigns and bows his head first. in this version, he also realized that he secretly wanted carlo to fail (still canon thing to me), he was incredibly tired of him and carlo's potential death seemed like a release) - one of henry's brothers took up boxing upon arriving in empire bay and was very successful at it. i have a random hc about this random brother having a fight with eddie. one of the reasons henry vaguely remembers eddie - i haven't written about luca and clemente here but my main point is that over time he developed an aversion and the family as a whole. this is the reason henry says he doesn't care about clemente family's destruction

6) vibesssss (there was supposed to be more here, but i forgot what i wanted to add while i was writing the main text) - about emigration. very painful and realistic topic for me. these screenshots aren't mine anyway it makes me think about henry and his attitude to emigration (which in my understanding is most often a tragedy for a person, because it is the destruction of the old familiar world and loss of emotional ties):

henry after betty's death. to me (esp the last one):

sorry henry it's you:

- it's also him. to be completely honest:

7) track list"Sinnerman" by Nina Simone: makes me thing about his death & character as a whole. his main song to me "Oh, sinnerman, where you gonna run to? Sinnerman where you gonna run to? Where you gonna run to? *** So I run to the Lord Please hide me, Lord Don't you see me prayin'? Don't you see me down here prayin'? But the Lord said Go to the Devil, the Lord said Go to the Devil He said go to the Devil All on that day So I ran to the Devil He was waitin', I ran to the Devil He was waitin', all on that day *** So I ran to the Lord I said Lord, hide me Please hide me Please help me, all on that day He said, hide? Where were you? When you oughta have been prayin' I said Lord, Lord Hear me prayin', Lord, Lord Hear me prayin', all on that day Sinnerman, you oughta be prayin' Oughta be prayin', sinnerman"

"Cold Cold Cold" by Cage The Elephant "I've been breathing air, but there's no sign of life Doctor, the problem's in my chest My heart feels cold as ice, but it's anybody's guess *** Well, it's cold, cold, cold, cold inside Darker in the day than the dead of night Cold, cold, cold, cold inside Doctor, can you help me 'cause something don't feel right? *** Counselor, give me some advice Tell me how hard will I fall if I live a double life *** And as the darkness falls, it fills up both my eyes My life before me like a flash in the night With my arms open wide"

"Snakes" by Pixies about the disaster he caused "Snakes Are coming to your town In tunnels underground Some travelling overground A plague for our mistakes They'll be right next to you Snakes up against me too There'll be nothing to do When the rattle shakes"

"Christmas Kids" by Roar about him trapped in a cage of a life he didn't choose "The Christmas kids were nothing but a gift And love is a tower where all of us can live *** I'm going to escape, but you won't know how Or where to find me when I'm gone I'll drink myself to death inside this prison cell This prison cell So get me out of here Get me out of here *** You'll change your name or change your mind And leave this fucked up place behind But I'll know, I'll know"

"Little Green Bag" by George Baker Selection (not really about his character. it's about a drug deal)

i apologize for a lot of text (i could write more tbg but a) i'm too lazy for it b) i need more time for this (which i just don't have) ) all this is probably ooc but idk idk. this is the version of his character that has settled in my head (and i honestly!!!!! rewrote him a lot in october-november because at some point i realized that i was actually giving him falcone's traits. just because falcone is 100% my type of character) anyway i hope you'll have a nice day/night/etc and all this mess will be interesting to read💓

#i'm not gonna add fandom tags bc i think my thoughts on him are still controversial & ooc i guess and i don't want anyone to judge me🙄#i think those of you who follows me are used to me making all these criminals the worst people in the world #so this is exclusive to you my darlings. don't kill me #anyway i think the main problem for me is that henry has a passive personality (which isn’t a bad thing)#but it's so hard for me to understand on a personal/rational level (carlo is the most comfortable character for me in that regard)#m2 #ask #oh my god im so tired of this man. bye henry im going back to falcone family

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lightvsdark18 · 2 years ago

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How Milady's passing affected them

Lucifer isolated himself and focused on his work, downing bitter coffee and passing out at his desk. He tried his best to keep his brothers together after the funeral, but it was easier to leave them be and grief in their own way.

He got too into his head and didn't realize his hair was getting long until it touched his shoulders. When he first cut his hair in the Devildom, it was right after falling and wanting to get rid of everything that reminded him of the Celestial Realm. He was emotional shot when he stared into the mirror that day and cut his long hair to a choppy short one, then bursted into tears at what he did.

He always kept it short to represent his new life as a demon, but right now, he couldn't help running his fingers through his longish hair and feeling nostalgic since he always adored having long hair.

He immediately focused his thoughts on his work and ignored his conflicted feelings, figuring he would cut it off later. However, his busy schedule let it grow more that Diavolo noticed his friend running his fingers through his hair and giving a small smile.

"Enjoying yourself?" The new demon king teased, confusing the former angel by the question. "You have been playing with your hair ever since it got long."

Lucifer apologized and said he will make an appointment to get it cut, but Diavolo stopped him, saying to keep it.

"... I don't know. The last time I had long hair is when I fell and it been so long since."

The demon king responded to see the change of appearance to be a new era for the eldest, and to start doing things that made him happy. "You can't keep doing this forever, Lucifer. You have to keep the promise you all made to her."

~~~~

Belphie slept more often and hid away in the attic, refusing to stop dreaming of her, but his coping mechanism was cut short when his twin started to get violent. He had to be awake to focus Beel's attention on not destroying almost everything around him.

His dreams of her kept him somewhat sane during the grieving process until a memory of her saying he looks nice with his hair tied back from his eyes. That dream had him staring in the mirror and pinning his bands back to see how he looked.

The first time he arrived in the Devildom, he felt terrified and wanted to hide away, using his arm to shield himself from the other demons' glares. He grew out his hair to brush parts of it in the front of his face and hide himself without needing his arm.

Maybe he doesn't have to that anymore. He tried pinning his hair daily and received compliments from his brothers and other demons. He did subconsciously cover himself with his arm, but over time he slowly got used to the feeling of having both eyes visible.

One night after another dream of her, she spoke how cute he looked now that he immediately cut his hair to hear those comments again. He felt strange at what he did, but who cared, she could see his whole face now.

~~~~

Asmo buried himself more into his sin and distracted himself with others, but everytime he was alone, he craved her touch again. He often found himself crying in his bed, missing her dearly and how she couldn't comfort him when his heart started to ache.

One night at a club, the demons he was going to be partying with commented on his appearance, his freckles. Asmo froze in fear since he grew to despise them when Devildom of old taught him to do so.

He always hid his freckles after hearing the cruel words and allowed no one to see them, except for her. She was the first person in a long time to see his bare face and call them adorable, oh how he felt at those words.

Therefore, hearing those words from his fans felt wonderful and could see her smiling at him as he sat down and acted like he planned it. There were those who complained about his freckles and how he looks better without them, causing Asmo wanting to retreat to his shield known as makeup.

However, the image of her cheerful face and genuine words helped him fight against the urge. "Who cares if they don't like it, I like it and that's what matters."

Those words stuck to him. "What matters is I like it..."

~~~~

Beel wasn't interested in food. He was still hungry, starving during every meal, but he ate less than normal, not really caring about eating. Every meal felt empty without her there to enjoy it with him.

Because of that, he lashed out and grew violent at anyone who looked at him wrong, especially if her name was spoke like an insult. He often came home bloody from aiming his anger onto unfortunate demons. Belphie eventually stepped in when he finally took notice and attempted to steer his attention to something else to cope.

One night at dinner, Candy, the child she adopted, finally snapped at the brothers. No one talked about her or dare say her name, seeming like they wanted to forget her in Candy's eyes.

Beel remembered her words before she left them. "Don't fall apart when I'm gone."

He took those words and attempted to genuinely move forward without getting violent or having his favorite things feel tasteless, but also, be a protector for the kid.

~~~~

Levi returned to shutting the world out and burying himself in his passion. She was his best friend and understood him, but who can understand him now. He fell back into the self he created when he arrived in the Devildom, rejecting the things he desired and calling them normie because he didn't believe he deserved them.

She broke him out of the cycle and slowly eased him into partaking those normie things, but she wasn't here anymore. Candy tried to hangout with him, but he lashed at them and threw cruel words towards them which added to the child's sorrow.

He buried himself deep in his self-hatred that he didn't realize he was breaking his promise to her until Candy snapped. At returning to his room, he found a photo of her and him together, somewhat hearing her voice when she convinced him to go to the movies together or hangout in the town.

"Levi, let's go to the park and walk around."

Then remembered the promise. "Don't fall apart when I'm gone."

... Doesn't he really not deserve to indulge in his "normie" side?

~~~~

Mammon was almost never in the house anymore from drowning himself in his debts from gambling with no end. He spent his time working to pay off his debts or gambling everything he had. The only time he was at home is when he had to sleep or rarely have dinner with everyone.

His hair was messy, his eyes bloodshot, his body looking thinner than before. He just wanted her back, to tell him off for gambling so much and that he's not helping himself. Candy was his wakeup call from they shouting about them trying to forget her.

Is that what he was doing, drowning himself in debt to forget her?

He turned himself around and attempting to help himself cope in a more healthy way, by ending those debts and stopping gambling so much. He came home more often and checked up on the kid, even offering to hangout with them.

~~~~

It was the first time for Satan to lose someone. He didn't know what to do. He thought he could handle it until he found himself lashing out a lot more at his family and other demons. He tried to suck himself into his interests, but the books felt cold when he went to her room and had to be harshly reminded she wasn't there to be read to.

His room soon became a mess with ripped books and broken walls, destroying anything he could get his hands on. He tried going to cat cafes and pet the cats to feel better, but that too felt cold from her not being there to enjoy it.

He only woke up from his clouded sight when Candy's outburst at dinner. Right, the brothers weren't the only ones who lost someone special, they lost their mother.

Satan started involving himself with Candy, suggesting they help each other out on grieving, soon finding comfort in their family member.

#obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #i tried i had this post in my drafts for awhile and want it to be done #obey me lucifer #obey me satan #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #obey me belphegor #obey me beelzebub

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forensicated · 10 months ago

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Smiffina Episodes - Episode 396

Smithy is up early because he's taken on an early morning shift in the workshop, despite being on remand so not having work responsibilities placed on him. He doesn't want to sit around and be alone with his thoughts or his cellmate, Arthur Fowler Morris Leatherhead (played by Bill Treacher) as that leaves too much time to think about his case, what he's missing and to grieve so he's trying to keep as busy as possible.

With the others now aware of who - or what - he is, Smithy's getting bullied by a greasy haired little prick who thinks he's top dog. When Smithy looks behind himself whilst pouring a hot drink, the muppet, sorry, Chris Hammond who fancies himself the leader of the wing but is anything but, pushes his hand under the hot urn scalding him and causing him to drop his tray. He then steps all over Smithy's cutlery as he leaves. As Smithy finds a rare empty seat when he finally does get his breakfast, the other occupant vacates it whilst staring him down. Smithy's personal officer offers to help him but he reassures him that he's fine and can handle it. He has to leave it but drops him a letter from Gina.

Hammond soon joins Smithy at the table and insinuates that Smithy promised to get him a mobile phone - all lies. He twists it to say that Smithy - as a 'bent copper in for murder' can get him anything so he has until lunchtime to get him one and in return he'll make sure that Smithy is left alone by the others. Smithy refuses and tells him that he's innocent and Hammond just scoffs, licks the apple he stole off another prisoner and drops it straight into Smithy's breakfast, walking off. Having seen this, Morris - who is supposed to be looking out for Smithy - finally comes over and asks him what Hammond wanted. "You want to survive in here, you're going to need some friends." "I've got you...." Smithy drawls. "You reckon?" Morris mutters, walking off. Smithy sighs and opens the letter to find out Louise's funeral has been set for 'next Thursday' which now is tomorrow!

At the station, Gina pushes Jack for an update to be told that MIT are pursuing a link between Larson and Caplan but nothing concrete has been found yet. Jack assures her as soon as it is he'll be onto it like a shot - warning or no warning. Gina runs through the briefing and has to tell uniform that there's been no changes yet and Smithy is still on remand until the trial. "Lets catch some real crims and see if we can show the CPS the difference!" she says as she dismisses them. Tony asks her how Smithy is and she tells him she hasn't spoken to him since visiting as he won't ring and hasn't sent anymore visiting orders yet. She promises him he's as tough as they come and that he'll be alright before dismissing him to go out on patrol with Dan.

One of the other prisoners, Jamie, approaches Smithy and asks him if he could get one of his friends at the station to have a word and visit his wife and child to make sure they're ok as they're being hassled 'by a group of men'. Unfortunately Smithy finds out they're not local - they're based in Harringay which is miles away from Sun Hill and he tells him he doesn't even know anyone over there and can't ring anyone who isn't on his registered list. As Jamie leaves, Morris hurries in to tell Smithy that "it's all set up, but come on!! You've only got 10 minutes before work starts!" Smithy is baffled by what he means but follows him to what ends up being the cell of the wing fence who offers three phones to him, asking which he wants to give Hammond. Smithy refuses, insisting he'd use the payphone if he wanted to make a call and he walks out. Morris isn't happy as he'd had to put in some real work to get the fence to agree to offer Smithy a phone but he assures him he's not going to say anything as he won't get Morris in trouble.

Smithy explains that if he caves to Hammond this time then he'll start asking for more and where would it end? He's going to be tried for murder and his only defence currently is his record with the police. Morris scoffs, telling him Hammond won't stay away and that if he gets into a fight with him he'll still be placed on report and it'll still go onto his record. He tells Smithy he's now on his own.

As Smithy heads towards his shift, he hears a fight start up behind him. He literally turns to go follow to go and sort it out with the guard - and then stops, realising again that it's not his job to do so and has to turn back. Unfortunately it appears to be a set up to get Smithy alone as Hammond appears with two heavies - even though it's not lunchtime yet - and attacks Smithy as a warning to 'play the game'.

Jamie appears and Smithy immediately flinches thinking it's one of the heavies back. Jamie offers to get him an officer and he refuses, telling him he'd be put back on the vulnerable prisoners wing on segregation. His personal officer appears and Smithy quickly tells him nothing has happened and that he's just going to work.

Whilst working, Smithy spots The Hairy Greaseball threatening Jamie and moves in to stop it. Jamie explains that he's due for parole so he gets to have home visits to sort things out and Hammond has been threatening him to make him bring in sim cards. Smithy nods and tells him that Hammond had pressured him for a mobile but he refused as he wasn't going to let people walk all over him. Jamie sighs and tells Smithy that Hammond appears to have taken the hint because he's told him to get him a mobile too. Jamie can't lose his parole as his kid wasn't born before he entered prison and he starts school in September. He assures Smithy that he knows someone who will get Hammond off his back for him.

Smithy sees Jamie talking to a well built man who regular viewers might recognise as Tim Faraday, an actor who frequently popped up when a huge (usually) baddy was needed on the show. He is Marty Johnson - the real top dog of the wing. And Morris warns him to keep away!

Smithy asks his personal officer, Alec, if he can apply for day release for the next day, apologising it's short notice but he'd only found out that morning from the letter. He explains it's for a funeral and that it's Louise. Alec sighs and it's obvious that Smithy sadly doesn't stand a chance given he's in there for her murder but he promises to get him the form so he can apply. Before he can walk off he notices Smithy's obviously in pain. He knows why and exactly who did it but without Smithy telling him - and he outright refuses because he does not want to go on the vulnerable prisoners wing - he can't do anything about it. Smithy tells him firmly that he faces people who want to hurt him because of his job on the outside daily. He doesn't run from them and he's not going to run from them inside either.

Jamie tells Smithy that Marty Johnson said he didn't want to get involved in his problem with Hammond and so he has to sort it out himself. He's not going to get him what he wanted but tells him 'Hammond has it coming'. Smithy later sees meaningful looks passed between Jamie and Johnson before Johnson walks off into the showers shortly followed by Hammond and then Jamie. Gathering his things, Smithy follows. As he approaches the showers, Johnson is walking in the other way and barges into Smithy. They exchange looks but both carry on in opposite directions. In the shower room Smithy finds Jamie standing in front of Hammond who is clutching his stomach and bleeding from a stab wound. "I didn't do anything!" Jamie tells Smithy before Hammond collapses straight onto him. Smithy charges forward and goes to help, trying to stop the bleeding. Alec, Smithy's personal office appears and presses the alarm, ordering no one to leave the area as both Jamie and Smithy are dragged by back other staff with Jamie protesting his innocence and claiming Smithy must have seen what happened!

Gina's out on the beat with Dan and it's obvious that her mood isn't great and she's worried about Smithy. She has little time for a 'silly blonde timewaster' who appears to be lying to them about who gave her permission to squat in the flat and she later snaps at Dan when he asks how Smithy will cope if the case doesn't collapse and the jury find Smithy guilty. "Do I look like I have a crystal ball?"

Gina is horrified to hear of the stabbing on Smithy's wing when Jack arrives in CID and assigns it to Phil. He's quick to reassure her that Smithy is absolutely fine but refuses to let Zain go with Phil, instead sending Mickey with him. Alec explains to both officers what had happened and that the knife used to do it is not one of the prison ones and must have been smuggled in. He also tells them that Hammond is a known bully who pressurises prisoners to smuggle in contraband for him but they can't prove it.

Jamie refuses to speak to Phil and Mickey, staying silent and just glaring at them. Tony and Honey approach Jamie's cell to search it. Tony locks eyes with Smithy but neither acknowledge the other initially until they are alone with Phil and Mickey and Alec. As they start to interview Smithy at the prison, Mickey is quick to reassure him that they're going to get him out as soon as they can.

Smithy explains to Phil and Mickey that Hammond has been putting pressure on Jamie to smuggle in contraband and that he's not handling it well as he's worried about his parole so he followed him to the shower block to make sure he was ok and stop him doing something stupid and he'd said he was "going to sort Hammond." As he arrived Johnson was leaving - with no blood on him - and he turned the corner to see Jamie stood in front of Hammond who had been stabbed but at the time he didn't have a spot of blood on him until Hammond fell onto him and he didn't see the knife or see it being thrown into a corner. Phil asks him if he thinks he did it and Smithy says it's too cold bloodied for Jamie, he honestly doesn't believe that he's got it in him. Mickey explains to Smithy that Jamie hasn't been entirely honest about the reason he's inside. He was the getaway driver for an armed robbery and he never gave up any of the other participants but his actions caused a PC to die after a crash. Several months later another job was carried out with the same MO by the suspected same group as the first and Marty Johnson was sent down for that one.

At the hospital Hammond is stabilised but still unconscious. Jamie is questioned and remains silent at first. Phil tells him they knows what Hammond was doing to him and ask how if anyone else was there. They show him the knife and he refuses to respond. Mickey tells them they're going to do the forensics and he should explain why they're there if he didn't do it. It doesn't look good for him and the least he's looking at is attempted murder. He looks worried but still stays quiet.

Gina hurries over to Mickey when she sees him leaving the interview room and asks how Smithy was. Mickey says he's clearly not himself and Gina tells him to practically order him to send her a visiting order. He promises to and goes to tell Jack to update him. Jack tells him to bail Jamie back to the prison until they know what's happening with Hammond.

Morris is short on patience with Smithy who is pacing back and forth in their cell. Smithy insists he doesn't think Jamie did it but Morris says it all depends on how far someone pushes someone else before they snap. Smithy asks Morris what he knows about Jamie and Johnson being involved in criminal activities before prison and Morris reminds him that he doesn't want to get involved for his own sake. Alec allows Smithy to talk to Jamie, giving him 5 minutes alone with him. He asks him why he didn't tell him that he'd been in Johnson's gang before prison and Jamie tells him he didn't want him to realise what he'd done (causing the accident that killed the PC in the other car). Smithy sighs and sits opposite him, telling him that he saw Johnson leaving the showers. He begs him to tell him what really happened. Reluctantly Jamie starts to open up, confirming that he and Johnson go way back and he's looked after him ever since because he covered for him on the first job. When Jamie told him he wanted to go straight for the sake of his family when he got out, Johnson cut him loose - which lead to Hammond starting. He got a message to tell him Johnson wanted to see him. He thought he'd get Hammond to back off by putting the frighteners on him, but when he arrived Johnson had already stabbed him.

Smithy urges him to tell that to the police officers but he refuses, saying he can't go against Johnson as he'd kill him. Smithy warns him he's going to face life imprisonment if Hammond dies and Jamie insists it's better for a dad to be doing a life sentence than one that has been murdered. He points out that telling the truth hasn't helped Smithy and he's a copper! He promises him the evidence will be found if he'd just tell the truth. Alec opens the door to get Smithy to return to his cell, only for Smithy and Johnson to lock eyes.

Zain walks in on Jack on the telephone to MIT chewing them out about not updating them on Smithy's case "it's one of my colleagues you've got banged up on false charges!" he growls. Zain beams at Jack, FIU have updated him that they have come across something on another of Larson's associates financial files that looks interesting. Through the case that Gina and Dan brought in earlier, it appears that the dodgy landlord - who is proving elusive - bought all his properties, in cash, all at the same time from Pete Larson. It appears that the agent has been charging the tenants more than is on the official tenancy agreement in several cases.

Jack and Zain interview the agent who admits he's only met the landlord once, he doesn't have his mobile details and he doesn't deal with him other than to send him the cash - he is completely hands off with the properties. He won't clarify either way if the landlord is aware of the extra charges or if the landlord is receiving them or if he is pocketing them. Jack just smiles and puts it to the agent that the landlord doesn't even exist...not under the given name at least. He suspects that it is Pete Larson operating fraudulently and puts it to the agent that it's identity theft, money laundering at huge eye-watering amounts and mortgage fraud though - for the time being - doesn't mention Larson by name. The agent insists he knows nothing about Drummond other than managing his properties.

Mickey catches up with Zain and Jack and explains that Drummond does exist and is really known as Joel Gates and he just so happens to be the owner of the loan company that gave Caplan his £25K loan! And he's clearly a business associate of Larson's at the absolute outside... and just so happens to have given an unsecured 25K 'loan' to a low credit score high risk, up to his eyeballs in debt Caplan who just so happened to be the only witness to the murder of Pete Larson's wife and put Smithy, who was having an affair with Pete Larson's wife, in the frame! Not at all dodgy.

Jack tells Mickey to find Phil - he wants to talk it through from start to finish before they approach MIT. They talk through the above and how to prove their links. Jack suggests that they rattle Gate's in the hope that he might make a contact with Larson and/or Caplan to warn them to keep quiet. He tells them to play it only on the Fraud angle officially as that means they don't have to tell MIT anything about it.

Jack leads an 'informal' chat with Gates to tell him that it has become apparent that the agent is likely defrauding him of at least several hundred pounds each month. He tells him sweetly that they're looking into the financial aspects and asks him to make his accounts open to the police to go through for a comparison and makes a joke about there being nothing to worry about unless things are not being declared to the Inland Revenue. He casually slips in that he'd need to inform MIT of his trading name too so that everything is above board and nothing is hidden from the off so that 'the Major Investigation Team' don't get suspicious and start digging further. Gates says he'll have to return to the office to get him the information for his accountant and that he'll update MIT from there too. Jack hands over his mobile number and Jack and Zain watch Mickey and Phil follow him discreetly back to his office. If this doesn't play out as expected, Jack worries they won't be able to get Smithy out of prison.

As an aside (and because I can finally mention him again cos he's baaaack and so is Gina❤❤❤ !) props to Dan for diverting his eyes immediately and literally turning other way after startling a squatter coming out of a bathroom into dropping her towel ❤ I can think of several that would not have been so quick or that would have had to have Gina tell them to!

#alex walkinshaw #dale smith #smithy #gina gold #roberta taylor #smiffina #smiffinalong #episode 396 #dan casper #chris jarvis #chris simmons #mickey webb #phil hunter #scott maslen #jack meadows #simon rouse #zain nadir #tj ramani #the bill

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artemissims-stuff · 1 year ago

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The Goode Family 1314 and 1315 - Ultimate Decades Challenge

1314 started on a rough note for the Goode family with Payton's funeral, but Spring brought with it a breath of fresh air and new beginnings, with the birth of Sigrid and Benedict's 9th child, a daughter they named Colette.

The farm was doing well, with Benedict and Sigrid earning enough money in the Spring of 1314 to shed the peasant label and become members of the Gentry. They employed household help and farmhands to assist them in running the farm, and with this new money and status, they started being invited to social events, which called for upgraded wardrobes for everyone.

As Evelyn blossomed into womanhood, hers and Theo's childhood friendship blossomed into something more flirtatious, and Theo began finding excuses to visit the Goode Freehold - to fish their pond, to assist in the apple harvest, whatever he could do for a chance to see Evelyn.

Colette was barely 3 months old when Sigrid found out she was pregnant again! It certainly was becoming a bountiful year for the Goode family, who felt like their luck was turning around. Baby Sibilie, their 10th child was born in early spring 1315. However, the Goode family's luck was not to last. 1315 was a year of heavy rain, which caused root rot to the Goode family's crops - to all of Windenburg's crops, and brought famine down on Windenburg. They didn't have enough grain to feed themselves, let alone their livestock, so Beneict slaughtered their chickens for food, and sold their cows to buy flour. Not long later, King Edward announced that Windenburg was officially in a famine. The Goode family were once again living hand to mouth, surviving off what they had stored and what they could hunt or fish for day to day. But this time, rather than just two mouths to feed like in the early days of Benedict and Sigrid's marriage, they had 7 mouths to feed, which was considerably more hard work!

The kids all pitched in to help procure food, with Louella and Avery foraging in the forest and fishing with their brother, who had also learned how to set snares and was becoming really good at catching rabbits. Benedict saw his son's skill at hunting and decided it was high time that Arthur learned archery. He began schooling Arthur in any spare moment he had. Arthur was a natural talent with a bow and arrow and picked up the skill easily, begging his dad to let him join in on a hunting trip. But Benedict, who's heart was still raw from losing his first son, Clayton, to a hunting accident was not having it. Arthur must stick to trapping rabbits with snares and fishing until he turns 13.

Theo continued his visits with Evelyn, joining the family from time to time in the evenings after he'd been out fishing. His own family was struggling during the famine too, and being merchants, didn't have land to live off of. Imports and exports slowed down and Theo's dad was struggling to keep his business running, so it fell to Theo and his fishing rod to keep his family fed. His favourite fishing spot was a little beach just down from the Goode freehold, and he visited there often, hoping to bump into Louella. Whenever he'd had a particularly good catch, he took a fish or two up to the Goode family, who inevitably invited him to share in their dinner.

Sigrid and Benedict liked Theo a lot. He was a respectable young man from a good, hardworking gentile family. They were hopeful that he would ask their daughter to marry him, but weren't holding their breath for a proposal during this time of turmoil. God knows, no one particularly wanted to bring another mouth to feed into their household at a time like this.

Just as the year was drawing to a close, Sigrid started to feel a little unwell...

Oh no, she thought. Again? Sigrid loved her beautiful family, and at any other time would happily welcome another child into the world, but presently the Goode family were all surviving off 1 meal per day. How would they cope with an 8th mouth to feed if the bad weather and famine continued into 1316?

Sigrid suffered from morning sickness terribly in this, her 11th pregnancy, and was so grateful to still have Louella and Avery at home to help with the younger kids, and with the laundry so that she could rest. What would she do without them? She wondered.

#sims4 #sims 4 ultimate decades challenge #sims 4 challenge #sims 4 historical

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emiri-tezel · 1 year ago

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"Ahh.. okay." He was watching his figure? She chuckled lightly. Finding the humour there, actually, and not thinking too much into it. "I will, so if you get me frantically calling you asking you where you are, this will be why." That she had perfected a brownie recipe to die for - chocolate just hit different for Emiri, it's a thought that had her pushing those same ones aside, knowing that she didn't need to run off on a tangent about baked goods when she was really speaking to Cole for a different reason. She wanted to know how he was, how he was doing, how he was coping - or not, he deserved for people to care enough to check in. It's what he did, it's what her dad would have done. Underneath Serkan Tezel's hardened exterior, he was a teddy bear - or more, that's how Emiri would describe him, knowing not only that he cared intensely about everyone inside of the MC, but she knew how he looked at Cole. A guy that while he had his own father figures; he never wanted to see him fall.

She offered a slight smile, "It's what a friend should do." Something she whole heartedly believed in. It's almost like she's shaking off him saying that Logan was lucky to have her, or hell, that they all were, she didn't believe that. It wasn't luck, not really, it was just being a decent human being, or so she thought. Emiri knew what it was like to feel set aside while experiencing grief, losing her dad had been a roller-coaster of emotions and not having her cousin to lean on had been hard. Not that she blamed, or felt bitter towards Taliah, she wouldn't dream of it, not ever. She loved her with her entire being and she understood now why she needed space. The one thing Emiri had taken from it was that if she could help somebody else not feel so alone, she would. She was trying to do that with Logan, all while not wanting to suffocate her.

Listening she keeps herself relatively silent, feeling sad for Cole, hearing that he felt guilty wasn't nice and yet, wasn't that one of the many stages of grief? You had to push, force, scramble your way through them to make it out on the other side. She knew that. "I'm sure you were doing what you thought was right." Letting Cassie go. "Or more, what you thought she wanted." She corrects herself slightly, knowing that the guy sat beside her would break through barriers to help the people he cared about. No she didn't know the ins and outs to why Cassie left town and honestly? It wasn't her business to know. "If you had tried, could you have done anything?" A question Cole didn't have to answer, she had asked just to make him think a little differently, trying herself to imply that sometimes the only person that could save themselves, was that person, outside influence only did so much.

She nods softly, understanding Cole when it came to him thinking of every what if possible, knowing in her heart that that was a normal thing to do. She also felt it was something that tied and twisted with guilt, however, she did believe that eventually he wouldn't be so hard on himself. Seeing Cole on the brink of tears didn't phase her, she didn't find it awkward or think he was any less of a man and him telling her he was sorry, only had her wanting to correct that, "You don't need to be." She wanted to hug him, actually, but thought perhaps right this second wasn't the moment to do so. "You shouldn't have to," pretend that he didn't care about Cassie, she thought he needed to embrace that. "You should visit her after the funeral and tell her everything you never got the chance to say, I talk to dad every week and it was weird at first, but it helped a lot." She wasn't telling him it was a cure to all his thoughts, it was more that speaking those thoughts out loud into a space made her feel lighter, at least. "It'll help you to say goodbye to her."

“Maybe later,” he debated, eyeing the treats in front of him again. “I’m watchin’ my figure,” Cole supplied, holding onto a stern expression for only half a heartbeat before a soft, fleeting yet sly smile managed to break through. Even for as heavy as the air was around them, Emiri had a way of making it feel lighter– just a tad easier to withstand. Cole figured it was some innate thing within her, but whatever it was, he found himself leaning into it and using the moment to set aside all that was weighing on him– even if only for half a heartbeat. “Well, whenever ya do master it, I want a sample, a’right?” Because who would he be if he turned down sweets? The day Cole resisted sugar would be the day everyone eyed him as though some alien imposter had overtaken his body.

Cole wished he could linger on that– how much simpler would this moment be if all they had to talk about was a fucking brownie and how gooey it was? But he couldn’t deny the elephant in the room because every time he tried, it was like he saw Cassie right in front of him and he couldn’t just push past that, no matter how bad he wanted to. Even so, if he was going to broach the subject, his chief concern wasn’t himself and never would be. Hearing how Logan was doing, he nodded, unsurprised to hear that she was staying busy and occupying her mind as much as she could. It settled most of his worry hearing that Emiri would be there if and when she did hit her breaking point. “She’s lucky she has you,” Cole murmured, offering up a small smile, though the warmth of it didn’t quite reach his eyes the way he wanted it to, “We all are.” He meant that, even if the grief in his voice kept him from conveying it with the level of sincerity he wanted to. Still, it didn’t change the sentiment– Emiri, much like her cousin, was a bright light in the dark. He saw it just like everyone else did and he was glad she was there.

Swallowing thickly as she turned the spotlight onto him, Cole tried his best to slink away from it. Even in the best of times, he didn’t want it. And yet…as he glanced over at her, his cigarette dangling limply from the corner of his mouth, Cole felt like he was safe to express himself around her– like she’d listen to him and know that he was coming from a genuine place. Shaking his head, he breathed out a smoke stained sigh, “Truth is, I just feel guilty, Em.” Cole felt so many things whenever it came to Cassie, but guilt had a way of twisting in deep like a jagged edge and burying itself in the center of his chest. “Like I coulda done more. Dunno if she woulda let me, but I didn’t even try,” he continued, his own disappointment in himself ringing clear in the way his tone dipped and swerved with the confession, “I just let her go.” Cole couldn’t help but wonder what might have happened if he hadn’t. He wasn’t even thinking about it from a relationship standpoint– no, that hardly mattered. He was just thinking of all the ways he might have been able to help, had he not let stubborn pride get in the way. “And now my mind’s just runnin’ wild wonderin’ ‘bout every what if I can think of, y’know?” He mused aloud, inhaling another drag from his Marlboro, though the nicotine did little to steady him the way it usually did, no matter how long he let the smoke rattle around in his chest. “All the shit I never told her,” Cole continued, head shaking again. Had she known that he’d loved her in his own way? No, he could recognize now that he hadn’t been in love with her, but he’d loved her all the same, and he wondered if she’d known that– or felt it, if nothing else. But beyond that, he thought of all the things Cassie would never get to do now and it was that thought alone that had the breath hitching in the back of Cole’s throat and warmth beginning to creep at the corners of his eyes, “All the things she’s never gonna get to experience now– how the chance was just taken from her.” Trailing off once he felt that warmth threaten to spill over, he reached up to swipe at his eyes, always so afraid to let that vulnerability shine through around anyone other than Taliah. “Fuck– sorry,” he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose as his eyes fell shut and he hauled in a steadying breath. “Know it ended like shit but I can’t pretend I don’t care ‘bout her.”

#emiri x cole

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nnight-dances · 3 years ago

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FOOLISH LOVE

pairings: xiao x f!reader

plot: y/n is a simp for xiao and loves him with her whole heart but will never let him know because she is convinced he is never going to return those feelings so she continues to stab herself in the heart by hanging out with him and falling more and more in love, full of happiness and sadness that he isn’t hers. spoiler: he is hers.

genre: angst, but also fluff

A/N: oh my god this is a repost of the first fic i ever wrote... um yea this is an interesting writing style.. but i kinda like the innocence so i'm just going to keep it!! we'll see how it goes.

“hey, i got this for you,” you were a little out of breath from the climb to the highest floor of the wangshu inn. you’d think days after days of trudging up and down the stairs would have you used to the burn in your calves but here you were sighing heavily as you place the warm bowl of almond tofu in xiao’s hands.

he shoots you a look halfway between concern and disdain, “you’re late.”

you scoff, plopping down on the rock beside the railing where xiao was settled, “you’re welcome.”

this was a routine for the two of you — every wednesday evening (because according to xiao “wednesday is when the sun is the wArMeST”) you would usurp smiley’s place in his kitchen and whip up almond tofu for a certain ungrateful adeptus and while he ate the dish (with a small smile that he always denied when you brought it up), you would narrate the happenings in your life as an employee of the wangsheng funeral parlour.

“the boy had this entire ‘good riddance’ attitude the whole time he was making negotiations but zhongli and i just knew he was trying to act strong,” you pause for half-giggle, “and guess what? as soon as he thought he was alone in hu tao’s office, he basically broke down.”

“that sounds revolting,” xiao places the now empty wooden bowl between the two of you, “why bother putting up such elaborate facades of strength if they’re so fragile?”

silently, you run your fingers through your hair, wondering if xiao was hearing what he was saying. it sounded too much like he was trying to provoke you.

you look away, choosing to ignore whatever the strangely pointed look on his face meant, and offer an unearnest hum.

“well, how about you?” you fiddle with xiao’s chopsticks, a little restless, “what adepti business have you been upto?”

a beat passes as xiao shifts, throwing his legs over the edge and swinging them. the uncharacteristically childish movement made you smile; you find that the more time you spend around xiao, the more you realise just how young he was.

“nothing of interest,” you roll your eyes at his curt reply.

“alright, i know you hate talking about your very confidential duties,” you’ve tried for weeks to get him to say something about what he does while you’re away and the best you ever received was an unsatisfying tale about a little girl interrupting xiao’s solitude in the mountains. and yes, you are aware that xiao just isn’t built to share things easily, or at all, but it doesn’t help the slight sting you feel everytime he declines.

well, at this point, it must be apparent: you are helplessly in love with the man with the softest teal undertones and the hardest walls to break, the adeptus who refuses to meddle with human world and thus, refuses all of your love. you know he does not think of you any more than a mortal and yet, every wednesday you ignore the warning in hu tao’s farewell and find yourself mesmerized by the enigmatic diamond on his forehead and the red around his eyes.

simply put, you are an idiot.

“honestly, i never imagined you to be so dramatic, y/n.”

hu tao is ridiculous. everything about her is far from the world of common sense and it reaches beyond the comprehension of any sane human being. perhaps, that is why zhongli is able to get along with her so well.

you gape at her, “i don’t understand — you’re asking me to consummate with a man i don’t even know and i’m the one you’re accusing?!”

“oh, for the last time, all you have to do is take him around liyue! and after you’ve dined on the finest dishes — which i’ve ensured xiangling will be responsible for — you will lead him to his chambers at wangshu inn!”

you raise an eyebrow, “and?”

the next words are whispered, “and maybe accompany him for the night...”

“HU TAO!”

the girl clap her hands together in plea and you feel a sense of dread creeping up your neck. there’s no way out of this, is there?

“is everything all right?”

“ZHONGLI!”

the tall man enters hu tao’s office, probably hearing the racket the pair of you have been creating, with an alertness, ready to face whatever monster was haunting you.

you raise a finger at hu tao who had her head in her hands, afraid zhongli would take your side. (which, surprise, he did.)

“zhongli! help me! hu tao is taking advantage of my maiden nature to ship me off with some gnarly man who will be sure to have the worst of intentions!”

the panic on zhongli’s face morphs into a frown of confusion as he protectively steps in front of you, “is this true, hu tao?”

hu tao sighs from her place, “no, of course not! i am y/n’s friend, her employer — what makes you think i would want to give her away to an unknown man? but the problem is that my family has sent what they call a ‘marriageable’ man and want me to keep him company on his trip to liyue.”

“he is from snezhnaya, yes?”

“correct, but the trouble is that i despise my family’s choice in partners, especially partners that you can’t easily get rid of. i wish not to be involved with him in any way.”

you step next to zhongli, “so you want me to suffer? you would rather see me writhe in—”

“all right, ladies, calm down,” you huff as you sit back down in the chair across from hu tao, “i see the entire matter now. i understand.”

“so? are you going to allow her to do this injustice to me, zhongli?”

years of working with zhongli had granted you quite the soft spot in his books and you knew just how to utilize his kind nature when times required.

“no, i agree with y/n. it would be a purely vile thing to leave her with this man in your stead,” hu tao visibly wilts and you feel a tiny bit bad, “however, we mustn’t allow hu tao to go off on her own either, for that would be irresponsible of us.”

“oh?” hu tao’s interest and your dread spike back up as zhongli scratches his chin for a moment before outlining his plan to get out of this tight spot.

“you want us both to go? do we look like a bunch of concubines to you, zh—”

“no! that is not what i mean! i suggest that y/n goes with hu tao and this man with… a date of her own.”

“so… like a double date?”

hu tao lights up, “yes!! yes!! that sounds marvelous. this way she can finally get out of her infatuation with that gloomy adeptus—”

you glare at hu tao, your hands lighting up with your electro vision threateningly.

“the question remains, who will take with you?” hu tao’s question is sickeningly full of innuendo and you want to distance yourself as far from it as you can.

you jump up to your feet, “zhongli!” you hook an arm around his elbow, having to stand on your toes in the slightest from the gap in your heights.

zhongli appears conflicted at your declaration, coughing awkwardly, “f-forgive me, y/n, i view you much more like a sister.”

you gasp when you realise what he means, “no! no! what- no! oh my archons, i have absolutely no feelings for you, that would be criminal. i meant that you should pose as my date.”

“why him?! i am exhausted of seeing the same two people all the time!”

“oh, come now. why not? after all, zhongli will be able to put the man down in a second if he dares to make an unrequited move.”

zhongli clears his throat, recovering from his misunderstanding, “oh, i suppose that is an intelligent proposal…”

“i know! great,” you nudge zhongli, throwing a wink at hu tao, “let’s get ready for the double date then!”

there is a skip in your step as you rush up the stairs toward xiao as fast as you could without spilling the contents of the bowl in your hands.

you were excited!!! xiao would be so amused!! you managed to turn a situation of possible suffering into one of appropriate tolerance!!

you almost trip as xiao comes into sight.

but you slow down when you realise he’s not alone.

oh! ganyu!!

the two of them seem to be engrossed in conversation and xiao looks... calm. nothing like how he usually appears when he meets people. in general, he has a weirdly distressed look that you would proudly notice softening whenever you were with him

it was one of your achievements in life, you felt, one of the only hopes that made you cling onto the dream that perhaps, you would be loved back. but you feel nothing but disappointment when xiao seems to easily chat (!!) with ganyu.

you shouldn’t be surprised really.. she was an adeptus after all. what gave you the idea that xiao would prefer to be with you, an ordinary human, when he had fellow adpeti like ganyu who could understand him in ways you couldn’t ever dream to parallel?

the excitement you felt moments ago is now far from your reach even as you try to smile back at ganyu when she notices you, waving at you happily. xiao tilts his head to look at you, nodding in acknowledgement.

you almost want to turn back and leave, as you feel your ears redden from something like humiliation.

“y/n!” ganyu beckons you toward the two of them and you reluctantly move closer. “hello, ganyu. i haven’t seen you for a while.”

“ah, i apologize. ningguang has been keeping us quite busy off late,” ganyu scratches her neck, “oh! which reminds me i have to collect some iron chunks for her! i will see you later, then.”

“goodbye,” you mutter as she flies off the railing, leaving you alone with xiao. it is now you notice that xiao has something in his hands.

“ganyu cooked a special variation of almond tofu for my trial,” the bowl is ingrained with golden details, much bigger and more elegant than the one you clutch in your hands.

“sounds interesting,” you hold up the bowl in your hands awkwardly, “i suppose i can take this one back then.”

xiao frowns, “why would you do that? it’s not as if i have a limit for how many bowls i can eat.” he takes the dish from your hands and waits for you to take your seat on the rock.

but you remain standing, taking support against the railings, “you should.”

you don’t fill the silence that ensues with your ramblings and instead listen to the wind as it picks up. xiao doesn’t take notice of this until he’s finished eating and clears his throat to bring attention to himself — his way of asking you to speak.

“we didn’t work much at the parlour today.”

“oh? is it because of hu tao’s incompetence or perhaps, zhongli wanted to recount one of his endless encounters?”

despite everything, you crack a smile at xiao’s comments. this was your weakness — a curse really. it would take everything in you and you would still be incapable of resenting xiao.

“no, we had to solve the case of hu tao’s marriage, one she wants to avoid so badly that she would have me sleep with a completely unknown man.”

xiao coughs in surprise, “what?!”

you are not naive enough to read much into the hostility in xiao’s eyes, “luckily enough, zhongli came up with a plan that would preserve everyone’s dignity.”

briefly, you explain the plot to corner hu tao and her potential husband with your and zhongli’s disguise as a couple.

“why would you go to such lengths to avoid a mere man? you could just take him out when he appears.”

“xiao, you do know that no matter his character, he is a guest of liyue.”

“if he is willing to force a lady into marriage, then he hardly is. and killing him would profit your business. a much better solution.”

you examine xiao to decipher whether he is being serious or not. he never does joke about hurting people but his eyes have a dangerous glint as if he means every word he says.

“i wish you would take these matters more seriously,” you look at the scenery one last time before springing away from the ledge. “anyway, i should leave. zhongli wants to meet before the date. see you, xiao.”

you leave swiftly, knowing if you stayed any longer, you’d find yourself convinced by whatever xiao had to say. you wouldn’t let yourself be swayed by your hopes anymore.

but this is what you miss when you turn your back to him: the clenching of xiao’s jaw because he doesn’t deem it possible take you any more seriously.

“ahhh, this is too much, zhongli!!”

“it is but some mere jewelry. i am sure if we were to crystallise your knowledge into gold, it would outshine these pieces brilliantly.”

you cringe at his words, “please, zhongli, save the flattery for later and help me put this on.” you hand him the delicate string of pearls he produced minutes ago (“i would never allow any lover of mine roam around bare-necked”). you admire the bracelet with the matching pearl in its center, smiling (“what’s with the bracelet, then?” “it comes in a set. you must look complete or it would be an insult to my affection.”)

“i mean it nonetheless,” zhongli fingers are warm against your neck as he slides the necklace snugly against your neck, clicking the ends closed. you praised yourself for opting to wear the wide-necked dress today which allowed the pearls to stand out against your skin while complementing the white with its smooth lilac.

for a minute, you let your imagination wander, replacing zhongli with a shorter man who would no doubt be commenting about his disdain for trifles such as accessories.

“it looks wonderful, y/n,” zhongli smiles at you, eyes filled with friendly appreciation and you feel a little empty even as he slides an arm around your waist, wondering when you would be looked at with something more intense than camaraderie.

the night progresses better than you expect. the man, whose name is lee, turns out to be less of a dignity-snatching gremlin and more of a light-hearted merchant who was tricked by tao family’s influence into coming all the way to liyue.

zhongli and you don’t need to pretend to be in love, but for the sake of meticulousness, he pats your head in the middle of his monologues as reaffirmation anyway.

hu tao has made a little effort to dress up, her staple hat nowhere to be seen and her pigtails traded for open hair that bellows around her fiercely. you smile at her as the two of you trail after the two men who are too occupied in their chatter to notice you straggling, “not so bad, is it?’’ hu tao shrugs but doesn’t deny it.

the three of you show lee to wangshu inn when it’s late enough, hu tao even offering some of her time in the morning to see him off at the harbour. when lee has left for his chambers (much to everyone’s relief, he made it clear that he had no intentions of forcing hu tao to spend the night with him. you kept a finger on your hidden polearm anyway), zhongli offers to watch the moon for some time.

“the moon is always quite remarkable from here, isn’t it?” you nod as hu tao sets off with an exclamation of “i’m getting us milk!” and sigh in relief. this night could have ended much, much worse.

“oh!” you remember the cold weight around your neck, “i’ve to return your jewelry.” you reach for the clasp, meaning to remove it but a hand on yours stills you.

“no, you should wear it for now. return it to me at the parlour later,” you giggle at zhongli.

“oh? i thought you said i’m like a sister to you, zhongli?” you tease him with a smile.

“of course, i meant that. however, it would be a pity to leave it in my pocket idle when it looks so fascinating in the moonlight.”

“archons, i wonder how you’ve stayed single for so many long decades, it’s creepy when you talk to me like that.”

zhongli chuckles and opens his mouth to retort but stops halfway, jerking his head to look at something behind you, expression alert for a moment and then familiar.

“what is it?” you look over your shoulder and find hu tao returning to you.

“nothing, i thought i saw someone familiar for a second.”

“i treat you to dinner and this is how you thank me? by pretending like i’m a stranger?” you laugh as hu tao launches at zhongli with the tray of milk in her hands, your heart shedding some of its pain unknowingly.

xiao doesn’t easily taking liking to things, but he does draw upon a list of his favourites, a list of items that make him feel something akin to happiness.

in the List, one of the higher positions was occupied by moonlit nights; nights where the moon was unapologetically enormous, filled to its brims, flooding and invading.

but today he finds himself resenting the moonlight, for you look so tempting under its touch, temptingly out of his reach.

now, xiao didn’t mean to follow you after you left him miserable and guilty of something he didn’t do. he couldn’t help it: his curiosity got the better of him when you mentioned zhongli.

and everything went downhill fast when he caught sight of zhongli figure bent against you, tying a necklace around your neck that seemed too precious to be a mere prop in the plans you spoke of.

xiao hated it, all of it. the way you easily touched zhongli, who leaned into your touches; the way he towered over you protectively; and the way your delicate features were only emboldened in the lilac dress you adorned.

just as quickly as he came, xiao left, his mood worse than ever before. he’d seen enough.

he returned with the intention of sparing the burn in his heart no more heed but there came the tinkling of your laughter from within the inn, and once again, xiao finds himself perched behind a pillar watching you from a distance, something he was doing more often than he liked.

and there you are, giggling against zhongli’s shoulder, sparking something feral within xiao.

he remembers your carefree giggles from a long time ago, when you just met him. why was it that they, your smiles and your brushes against him, had grown more and more sparse in time?

“xiao?” you frown when you don’t find xiao by your usual spot, placing the hot bowl on the rock to look for him.

maybe he was in his chamber?

you head deeper into the inn, stopping outside the chamber that xiao had mentioned in passing and knock thrice, lightly, almost afraid that he was inside. “xiao?”

you hear a few thuds from inside the room, before the door creaks open, giving way to xiao, who looks… unusual.

there is nothing off about his clothes, everything perfectly — eerily so — in place, but his expression gives him away. you are used to his disgruntled demeanour but today his eyes held something darker.

“hey, are you okay?”

xiao didn’t expect you to show up at his door (albeit he did hope dearly that you would, just so he could feel something), but he scoffs when he sees you, against his will. you look at him in slight shock and xiao wonders why you should find his rudeness out of place.

“what is it?”

you continue to pin him with that gaze of yours, disbelieving, “y-you didn’t show up on the terrace… it’s wednesday.”

“i see. i must have lost track of time.”

“you’ve never done that before.”

“well, you’ve never shown up empty-handed like this so i suppose we’re even, no?”

xiao can sense that you’re trying to control yourself as you pause. then, “xiao, seriously, what happened?”

“i am serious, nothing happened. if you’re looking to be entertained, maybe you should seek zhongli out, i’m sure he can help you out.”

“what?” you throw your hands in ridicule, “please, would you stop attacking me for a moment and tell me why you’ve holed yourself up like this?”

“and what makes you think i have any compulsion to inform you of my thoughts?”

xiao doesn’t know what he’s doing but he wants to hear you say something, anything that can hurt him. he wants to be rejected, to be pushed away. a bad habit he can’t seem to put away, especially when you persist so strongly.

you sigh, “okay, since you’re clearly not in the headspace to hold a proper conversation, i’m going to leave. i’ll see you tomorrow if you’re feeling better then.”

just as you spin to leave, xiao feels himself mumble, “coward.”

you stop in your tracks, “what did you say?” when you turn around, xiao can see a flicker of optimism, hope that you misheard him.

“i called you a coward. you pretend to be strong and tell me you’re my friend, that no matter what, you’re capable of creating a relationship with me, even if i’m just a bitter, forgotten adeptus. but the second it gets hard, you run.” he laughs mirthlessly, feeling his heart bleed when a tear falls onto your cheek, “leave, you’re as selfish as they go.”

the world stills when the last words fall of his tongue — the words all lies, meant to be weapons, meant to injure. and by the crestfallen expression you pin him with, he’s sure it’s worked.

but instead of leaving like he asks you to, like he expects you to, he swears your feet dig deeper into the wood of the inn.

“you have no idea, xiao, do you? selfish, you say? do you think i cook almond tofu for you every single week, after an entire day’s of work because i have something in it for me? is it your pleasurable company i come here for, or your willingness to open up for me, even after all these days, these years. do you think i like it? no, i hate it. every single day i spend near you, it hurts. do you know what else is on wednesdays? the parlour’s weekly outing. i miss it for you, xiao, i give up time with people who would actually talk to me. and in the beginning, i was glad to have someone who listened so well. until i realised i don’t actually have you.”

you’re breaking down slowly, tears falling faster by the second, “and you know what? all of this would have been fine. but… i feel so much for you, xiao,” your voice is thin and desperate, your hands clawing at your leg. xiao’s throat is dry as you continue, “i— these feelings i have for you make it all the more painful to be near you. they’re so heavy and so overbearing and it just hurts so much because— because i know— i know you.”

xiao wants to ask what you mean — what feeling? what do you mean you know him? what about him? a shiver creeps up his shoulder but before his words are formed, you’re gone and suddenly, he is overwhelmed by the smell of almond tofu.

and this is what he realises: all this time he thought it was his love for almond tofu that made wednesdays so special, but no, it was your scent that he was looking forward to.

the night was cold and harsh

or maybe you just weren’t wearing enough layers to keep it away.

but either way, your cheeks felt especially cold as if they had been sunburnt. you did cry a lot, after all.

after managing to keep it together for the past week, you finally felt yourself sobbing when you unconsciously had made your way to wangshu inn. it was wednesday.

running as fast as your legs would take you, you thanked the archons that your house wasn’t too far.

now, about three hours later, you finally come out to the silent porch of your little cottage. you love watching qingce village in the night because besides the occasional anemo slime, it was serene and you could lie down in the privacy of your porch, watching the stars.

and like the countless other times you did this before, your hand reaches out to rest beside you, yearning for touch, to hear anything besides your own breathing.

“ah, fuck,” another tear trails down your face. you expected to feel numb by now but the realisation you had after your breakdown with xiao remained the same: you’re lonely. you didn’t expect to be lonely. you were friends with the loveliest of people, and your job was of many joys, once you ignored the initial suffering of death.

but either way, you couldn’t change the fact that it had been two long years since you’d felt a man’s touch, all thanks to your stubborn infatuation for xiao.

you found it hard to think about anyone else even when touching yourself at night but now, knowing you were no longer anywhere close to having a chance to be granted your desire for him, your mind wanders to the many offers from men you ignored.

one such proposal was prominent in your mind. kaeya was his name, you think. you suppose you could travel to monstadt. it wasn’t that late. before you can steel your conviction to move, you hear a rustling behind you.

soft footfalls followed by an even softer whisper of “y/n?” and you feel your breath pick up, the voice triggering pain and affection all at once.

you stay still, clutching the blanket around you tighter as you feel the figure approach you.

“xiao,” you acknowledge him as he enters your vision, fighting your instinct to shut yourself up in your room.

xiao looks relieved and he’s a little breathless, “y/n. you’re here.”

“i am.”

“i— i was worried when you didn’t come. it’s not like you to miss two of our meetings.”

you know he’s making you curious on purpose, making you overlook your fight, but you cave in, “two meetings?”

xiao lips lift in a smile when you take the bait, “yes. you said you were willing to talk on thursday when i wasn’t acting so... foolishly.”

“your words, not mine,” you refuse to offer him a smile, simply looking at him. he’s uneasy today, squirming but honest, eyes cast away and hands fidgety.

when silence falls, you don’t fill it even when he clears his throat and after two long minutes of looking at each other, he finally speaks first.

“about what you said that day... the— the feelings?”

the question rings clearly in his voice and you bite the inside of your cheeks, “i meant it. whether or not either of us likes it, i love you, xiao.”

you aren’t sure why you feel this confident — perhaps the surety of your last rejection affirms you or the bitterness powers you instead — but you say it clearly. clearly enough that you know that xiao’s ears turn red not from the cold, but from your words.

“i’m sorry for everything i said to you last week, but i meant it. i can’t promise everything will be the same but i need some time… away to gather my thoughts and take care of these feelings.”

“you don’t have to.”

you breathe a chuckle, “i have to try, xiao, not only for your sake but also mine.”

“no, there’s no need… there is nothing wrong with your feelings for me.”

this is when you finally raise your eyes to look at xiao and are stunned into a half-mouthed gasp at the sheer passion he offered up in his gaze. it was not different from the array of intense glares he would often arrest you with but this specific one was… disarming in the most un-xiao-like way. it was charming, gentle. vulnerable.

as if this isn’t enough to convince you that either xiao is testing some mystic adepti art on you or that you’re stuck inside some sickeningly realistic dream, xiao pads closer to you and falls to his knees, deliberate and meaningful.

“xiao? what—”

“the words i said to you that day were void of any truth. i couldn’t for a second muster the ludicrous thought that you’re selfish or cowardly. i… i am accustomed to seeing people leave, willingly or not, and without considering how you felt, i wanted to see the same happening to us.”

you are reeling from this entire situation — xiao is closer to you than he’s ever been in years and he’s speaking… a lot. like entire sentences!!!

“i am a fool. but i care about you… and not only platonically. these feelings you speak of — they seem to have settled in my chest as well.”

his breathing is heavy when he finishes and you find yourself getting breathless as well as you drop the blanket from around you.

“b-but,” you swallow against your dry throat, “but i’m mortal… i’m so weak. why—?” you seem to be unable to finish your question when xiao’s fingers hover over your palm in your lap.

distantly you realise that you’re both facing each other, knees folded and expression mirroring a look equal parts misery and adoration.

his index finger brushes your knuckles, “may i?”

you nod, allowing your colder hand to slip into his. a rush of blood bursts into your cheeks when his other hand follows, enveloping your hand.

“your mortality is not a sign of weakness. for eons, i’ve been daunted and seduced by solitude, because with the serenity follows darkness in the form of my past.”

“stupid karmic debt,” you don’t stop the bitter remark form slipping, genuinely annoyed at the unfair punishment xiao suffers.

his thumb rolls into circles on the back of your hand, “but i’ve been feel myself getting better, as if i were getting healed. and do you know what i think? you. you’ve been making me lighter, somehow making me feel something i never imagined myself capable of.”

you’re speechless and hot from the weight of his words, squeezing his hand in reply.

“i adore you, y/n. and i wish to heal you, too. the heaviness of your feelings—”

“is no longer,” you smile, hesitantly placing your free hand over his stacked ones, “if you return these feelings even in the smallest way, i am happy to embrace them at last.”

xiao is silent and then, he embraces you: a promise.

“thank you.”

everything doesn’t go back to normal. and you’re glad.

you still meet with xiao every week — now on saturdays, because no matter how many times you tell xiao you would rather feel the wind next to him, he insists you go out for drinks with hu tao and zhongli.

he sits by the table in smiley’s kitchen now and watches you when you make almond tofu — two portions this time. and when you’ve finished eating, you shift closer to xiao, knees touching and hands brushing so softly that the touch is more of a tickle, and watch as the sun disappears, dimming the world around you till you can feel nothing but xiao’s breathing, lulling you into a blissful sleep.

#xiao x reader #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #adeptus xiao #genshin impact xiao #xiao fluff #xiao x you #genshin impact angst #xiao angst #genshin angst #genshin fluff #xiao fics #xiao genshin impact #zhongli x reader kinda

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jingyismom · 3 years ago

Text

Time for more sex-cursed Lan Wangji!

a messy, self-indulgent spree imported from twt and lightly edited

explicit, wangxian, 9k, canon divergence fix-it

mild dubcon because of the nature of sex curses (but like, they do their best to communicate around it), and cw for brief thoughts of self harm, no other warnings

This curse's origin is mysterious, perhaps politically guided. Someone is trying to throttle Gusu Lan's alliance prospects by removing Lan Wangji's stellar marriageability after Sunshot. It works, after a fashion.

Wei Wuxian is in the Burial Mounds, farming and hardening his heart as the resentment worsens his health, subsisting on memories of Lan Wangji's single visit.

Lan Wangji is at home in Gusu, pining away while they rebuild the Cloud Recesses.

One day, he begins to burn up with unexplained fever.

The healers examine him quickly and thoroughly and determine first that he's been cursed. This is not entirely shocking, but it of course angers the entire sect. Next they test for the curse's nature. It turns out to be a very classic, very coarse type of love curse.

The afflicted will burn up, losing all their sense and senses, and eventually die, if their body's “needs” are not satisfied by the one it craves most.

The healers are disgusted. Lan Xichen and Lan Qiren are outraged. But Lan Wangji becomes very calm at the news.

Before, he felt anxiety. The urgent desperation of a dying man waiting to be told how to live.

Now he is just waiting to die.

For you see, the choice between throwing himself at another human being—no matter who they may be—and meeting death with dignity, is an easy one.

Everyone else privy to this information disagrees. The argument that follows is short, but heated:

"Well, Wangji?" Lan Qiren begins once the initial furor has died down. "How do you wish to...go about this?"

Lan Wangji, over-warm and aching, looks up at him from the examination bed. Gusu Lan funeral rites are ancient and immutable. He does not understand the question.

Lan Qiren purses his lips and glances around. "We must find the person first," he prompts.

Ah. The person responsible. Yes, Lan Wangji does have business with them before he dies. He stands, only swaying slightly. "I am well enough to exact justice. Let us cast the rebound."

Lan Xichen steps forward then, and gently pushes him back to sitting. "It has been cast. However, justice can wait. Your health must come first."

Lan Wangji looks between his uncle, his brother, and the one doctor allowed to be present. Surely they would not be joking at a time like this.

"I do not understand," he says.

The three exchange a look. "Breaking the curse must be our priority," says Lan Xichen.

Lan Wangji is not sure he heard correctly. But it would be cruel to give him unfounded hope. "I was unaware there was another way."

"...There is not," says Lan Xichen, his gentleness unfailing.

Lan Wangji experiences a moment of deep confusion before the horror sets in.

"You cannot mean this," he says through his shock. "Surely you cannot mean to cast aside so many disciplines at the whim of a base villain."

"The disciplines are a guide," Lan Qiren says, hands behind his back, looking into the distance, "to ensure a life well-lived. They are not meant to inspire martyrdom."

Lan Wangji's mouth falls open. He stares at his uncle, mute with betrayal. He has never heard of any such leeway before, not in regards to disciplines of such a serious nature.

"You can understand, can't you?" Lan Xichen says. "That no rule is more important than your life.”

Lan Wangji disagrees vehemently. "I would not buy my life with such behavior."

Lan Qiren huffs in irritation. "We may perform a marriage in haste, if you wish."

Lan Wangji balks at him. That his uncle should speak so flippantly of...such a thing. It is unimaginable. And besides, forcing a marriage on Wei—on anyone in this way is surely only adding insult to heinous injury.

"I refuse," he says.

Lan Xichen exchanges a look with the doctor, and sits beside him. "Perhaps the other person should be allowed part of that choice."

Ridiculous. "There is no such person." Preventing this course of action is worth one lie, Lan Wangji reasons.

"With respect, Hanguang-jun, if that were true, the curse would not have been able to take hold," says the doctor.

The use of his title feels uncomfortably ironic from a woman who helped deliver him at birth. He glares at her. She smiles tiredly in return.

"Wangji," Lan Xichen says. His tone is beginning to grate on Lan Wangji's raw nerves. "You will at least try, won't you?"

Lan Wangji stares at him in disbelief, in anger, in righteous indignation.

"Never," he says.

A hand slaps his shoulder. "Apologies," says the doctor, and the world goes dark.

-----

Lan Wangji wakes to dark wood beams dappled by lacy sunlight, and a faint smell of char in the air. His head is heavy, his limbs full of lead. He swallows around the dry thickness in his throat.

"Water," comes a familiar voice.

With effort, Lan Wangji sits up. His stomach is roiling, his mind fogged from the coma and the curse both. The doctor, crouching beside him in the carriage, offers him a bowl of water.

He takes it, and asks, "What have you done?"

She sighs.

"My duty," she says, "with the help of your brother."

She draws back the curtain at the carriage entrance, revealing a sea of black, twisted trees and gray tumbled walls.

Lan Wangji's blood freezes in his veins. He just barely stops himself from asking how they knew.

"Why," he asks instead, a much safer question.

She considers him. "Your brother said if he was wrong, he would beg forgiveness afterward. But it couldn't hurt to have an expert in resentment and curses look at you anyway."

A stab of sick embarrassment makes Lan Wangji’s stomach clench.

Has he been so obvious? Is he such a lovesick fool that anyone with eyes can see his shame?

The doctor pats his shoulder gruffly and he flinches, expecting more needles.

"Ah he's your brother, he's bound to know things you don't want him to," she says. "Come on. Out you get."

He allows her to tug him out of the carriage and onto solid ground. The air is stifling with resentment, but he is glad to be free of his bonds. Now he can look for his chance to get away.

There are six Lan disciples flanking them. He eyes them warily, wondering what they know. When the doctor pulls him out of earshot, and pitches her voice low, he is satisfied that they have not been fully informed.

"Your family and I agreed to give you a chance first," she says. "You have 24 hours to take care of this yourself. After that, I will personally tell Wei-gongzi of your brother's message. I have been assured he will not jeopardize your well-being if fully-informed."

Lan Wangji gapes at her. He does not know what he expected to happen, but it was not this...this...mercenary attempt at...forcing...

The curse has weakened him such that he cannot fly his sword. He can hardly walk in a straight line, let alone run. He has very little recourse now that everyone in his life has gone absolutely mad. His heart is racing with the adrenaline of upheaval, of fear, of impending death.

He wrenches his arm from her grasp and stalks off of the road, into the brush. She calls after him, but he does not mean to escape. He cannot manage that alone. Instead, he sits. He takes a deep breath. He sinks into meditation.

"Hanguang-jun," she calls. She approaches, hands on her hips. She sighs. "Well, if it's like that, then there's nothing stopping me from telling him right now."

She turns, and Lan Wangji feels a lurch of helplessness, when a new voice rings clear through the fog.

"Tell what to whom?"

Lan Wangji's eyes snap open. Wei Wuxian is standing on the other side of the carriage, the child A-Yuan in his arms, eyeing the Lan delegation with suspicion. Wen Ning is with him, and the Lan disciples shift nervously just looking at him, but Wei Wuxian sets A-Yuan in his arms, and he leaps away up the mountain.

"Might I assume this little party has come for me?" Wei Wuxian goes on, twirling his flute. His eyes are shrewd and cold, similar to the way they had looked when he had first returned during the war.

At the sight of him, at the sound of his voice, the curse...reacts.

A horrid, uncomfortable shiver of need runs through Lan Wangji's body alongside his own simple relief and joy at seeing Wei Wuxian again, looking relatively well. He fights it, keeping still among the weeds, hoping against hope to go unnoticed.

"Yiling Laozu," the doctor greets him with a deep bow. "We have indeed come to humbly beg your aid."

"I see," he says. "And what will you give me in return?"

The doctor hesitates, clearly discomfited by the context Wei Wuxian is currently unaware of. "We may...discuss that. Once we have informed you of the details."

Wei Wuxian hums, considering. Cold. Detached. "And if I am disinclined to—"

He breaks off. The doctor has moved so that she and Lan Wangji are both in Wei Wuxian's line of sight. Lan Wangji closes his eyes rather than see the moment of recognition, rather than feel the weight of Wei Wuxian's eyes on him, like this.

"Lan Zhan?"

Lan Wangji clamps his jaw shut. It is a struggle not simply to crawl to him.

The renewed ice in Wei Wuxian's voice when next he speaks makes Lan Wangji aware of the warmth with which he had said his name. His curls his shaking hands into fists on his knees.

"What have you done to him?"

The doctor sighs. "We have done nothing. He has been cursed, which is why we brought him here. If you—"

"Daifu," Lan Wangji interrupts, his voice thin.

She stops speaking.

Lan Wangji opens his eyes, but does not look at Wei Wuxian, not yet. If he is careful, and uses his remaining strength correctly, he can perhaps...perhaps guide the situation. Toward escape. With Wei Wuxian's help.

He may have to lie to him. He hopes he will be forgiven, all things considered.

Lan Wangji stands slowly, carefully, considering each movement so as not to reveal the state he is in.

"I will speak with him," he says to the doctor.

She eyes him. "24 hours," she says.

He does not acknowledge this. He thinks they both know it will not come to that, though his idea differs greatly from hers. He judges, from the time they have allotted and his own weakness, that he has perhaps a day and a half, total, to wait them out. Doable, if he is careful and intelligent about it.

He can manage.

He walks over to Wei Wuxian, careful to keep two arm's lengths between them. This close is already too close: a fine, constant tremor has made a home in all of his tightly-locked muscles. He feels the moment his fever begins to rise further. The sides of his throat hurt, the interiors of his ears. He wonders if his hearing will go first, or his eyes.

"Allow me to explain," he says to him.

"Of course," Wei Wuxian answers.

He sounds strange. Cold, still. Lan Wangji wants to look at him, and almost slips, but manages to stop himself. He follows him up the hill, past the wards, through the resentment that clings to them both, now. He keeps his careful distance, following behind.

"What happened?" Wei Wuxian asks, as they walk.

"A curse," Lan Wangji says carefully. "Origin unknown. The rebound has been cast. I did not wish to burden you with this, but they are...they will not listen to reason. Wei Ying, if you would but help me, I would deal with this on my own."

"Oh?"

"I...wish to seek justice. They will not allow it. But you understand. If there is another path off the mountain, if you would show me the way past them, I could—"

Wei Wuxian stops dead, and Lan Wangji, with his eyes in the ground, runs into him.

For a blazing, agonizing moment, he is touching Wei Wuxian, clinging to him, every element in his body sighing and crying out at once in satisfaction, in the torturous need for more.

He tears himself away, stumbling back, almost falling. Wei Wuxian reaches out as if to catch him, but falters.

"Lan Zhan, you can hardly stand," he says, alarmed, "and you want to go and fight someone?"

Lan Wangji draws himself up taller again, trying hard to stop his shaking. He cannot look at him. He cannot look. He is already dying, now, just from not looking. "It is my right."

"...It is..." Wei Wuxian says at length, watching him closely. "And it still will be once you're well again. Your doctors really couldn't tell what type of curse it is?"

Lan Wangji says nothing, trying to think past the way every inch of his skin feels as if it is burning clean off. The pain of it screams through him, worse than anything he has ever felt. Wei Wuxian is still speaking, but it is hard to make sense of it. When Wei Wuxian begins walking again, slowly, it is all he can do to both follow and stay away from him. This, here, now, is worse than death. If it lasts, he certainly will not be sane when the end finally comes. He lets go of any thoughts of a dignified death.

Fortunately, by the time they reach the cool dark of the cave Wei Wuxian calls home, the pain has subsided to a distant roar. Unfortunately, he hoped never to reach this point. He tries his only play again, unable to think of any new tactic.

"Please show me the way off the mountain," he says without preamble.

Wei Wuxian is quiet for a beat. "You really don't want my help that much?"

Lan Wangji is so confused by this question, and then struck by the irony of it, that he almost begins to laugh. A shivery, jittery feeling fills his chest, and he leans against the nearest solid surface. He wishes he were wearing a loose outer layer over his blue travel robes, the better to hide his shaking. He does not know how to respond.

"You haven't so much as looked at me once since you got here," Wei Wuxian goes on, digging through strange pots and objects on a table, "so I get it. But you'll have to forgive me if I disregard your objection to the kind of work I do, when it comes to your life."

"My life, my life," Lan Wangji mocks, accidentally out loud. Why is everyone suddenly so obsessed with his life? He was ready to give it freely in the war, but chance let him keep it. What difference does giving it now in the name of keeping himself clean of shame make? Why will nobody allow him this choice?

"What shame?" Wei Wuxian asks.

Lan Wangji buckles at the realization that he has said all of this out loud. He goes to the floor, to his knees.

"Nothing," he says. "The shame of not having warded off such a simple attack."

"Lan Zhan...you want to die because you didn't defend against a curse you didn't know was coming?"

Lan Wangji lapses into silence. He has said too much already. He does not know how to get out of this. He can only...he can only stay quiet. Refuse to speak or move.

"Lan Zhan...I feel like I'm missing something here. I only want to help.”

Lan Wangji grits his teeth and stares hard at the floor in front of him. He has rarely ever felt so trapped, so utterly helpless. The extended, full-body pain is dulling his mind by the moment. The hems of Wei Wuxian's robes come into view, and it takes everything in him not to fall forward into him, to plead, to beg. His breath is hitching at random intervals now, his heart tripping as it prepares to fail entirely.

There is a soft gust of air, and an odd prickling sensation across his face.

"Now let's see—oh," Wei Wuxian says. "I...oh."

Lan Wangji wilts at his stilted, awkward tone. He knows now, surely. Can see him truly.

"So that's why you want to leave, and why they won't let you. They want me to find another way to break it, to stop you from...ah."

Lan Wangji sorts through the words, trying to comprehend them.

"Sorry," Wei Wuxian goes on. "I...it's unbreakable, otherwise. A very old, airtight spell. You...will Gusu Lan start a war with me if I do just let you go...ah, handle this the old-fashioned way?"

Comprehension dawns. And with it, a way out.

Lan Wangji rushes to agree. "They—" He cuts off. Will they? If they think Wei Wuxian has willingly let him die, rather than...

He takes a breath. Another. Forces his mind past the endless litany of pleas for relief.

"Show me the way " he says, his words breathless and short, "and then tell Lan-daifu what you have done. And why. But give me time to. Get away. And you will be safe."

Wei Wuxian pauses. "How...ah. How far—how much time?"

Lan Wangji tries hard to come up with an answer for that. His progress will be slow. But he need only find a place to hide.

"Half a day," he hazards.

Wei Wuxian seems to vacillate. "Are you sure you can make it on your own?"

Lan Wangji wants to rage. To weep. To curse himself to the heavens for being so depraved toward so endlessly kind a man. His heart hurts, even as his body strains toward him.

This lie may be the worst he will ever tell.

"I will be fine,” he says.

"Alright." Wei Wuxian sounds unconvinced. "I trust you."

Lan Wangji nearly convulses, holding back a sob. How will he ever be forgiven?

He cannot think of it. Only this, only what comes next. Only keeping Wei Wuxian safe from this mess.

"Lan Zhan?"

"Mn," he manages.

"Would you look at me, now? I haven't...used any demonic cultivation on you. It's safe, I promise I won't. I just. Can't we say goodbye properly?"

Lan Wangji has not moved from the floor. He does not move. He should try. A parting gift. Just one look.

But if he is going to leave. If he is going to succeed. He cannot.

"Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian says again, frustrated now.

Lan Wangji does not look. He is so close to freedom from the horrible pull, from the way his very veins are trying to tear themselves free to wrap around Wei Wuxian.

Wei Wuxian steps forward, and Lan Wangji's breath leaves him all at once. Suddenly, there are fingers beneath his jaw, kind but firm, tilting his chin up. He has no choice but to look.

(Inspired by this art.)

Wei Wuxian is there. Tall and strong and perfect, tiredness mixed with something bittersweet on his lovely face. Lan Wangji's entire being melts toward him, a deep, sharp tug from inside his bones, a mindless, helpless, straining need that pushes a low, wanting sound from his throat.

Wei Wuxian snatches his hand away and backs up half a step, staring at him.

"Sorry," he says, blank. Confused. "I thought it was...I didn't realize...sorry."

Lan Wangji, now that he has looked, cannot look away. He has overbalanced without Wei Wuxian's support, fallen forward onto his hands, but he cannot stop looking at him. He will look at him, and keep looking; he prays Wei Wuxian is the last thing he sees before he dies.

The most shameful part of this is that none of it is the curse twisting his thoughts. None of this is. All the curse is doing is making the way he always feels impossible to ignore.

"Wei Ying," his voice implores. He does not mean it to.

Wei Wuxian takes another step back and looks down at the bowl of powder in his hand, confused. "I was certain it was that curse," he says to himself. "If I was wrong, then maybe I could break it..."

Lan Wangji tries to scrape his composure back together. He tries. He tries. His fingers scrape on the rough stone floor. He does not reach out for him. That is something.

Wei Wuxian looks at him again, then hastily away. Lan Wangji does not ever want to know what it is he sees.

"Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian says, as Lan Wangji shakes, and shakes. "Where...where were you trying to go? I thought you...I thought you were, ah, thinking of a certain someone."

Lan Wangji's arms are weak. They are going to give out. He cannot answer him.

"I'm confused, and I...may have made a mistake," Wei Wuxian goes on, still backing away slowly, "but I just want to help. Can you tell me what was happening before, and what's happening now?"

Lan Wangji shakes his head, and the motion shatters his fragile balance. He falls, and curls tightly around himself in the dirt.

"Lan Zhan!" Wei Wuxian says, suddenly close.

Lan Wangji sees his hand reach out, then pause, and he can't stop himself from taking hold of it, just to be touching him. His body screams for it, and he gasps raggedly at the contact.

Wei Wuxian wrenches his arm free. Lan Wangji wishes he were dead.

"Fuck," Wei Wuxian mutters to himself. "I...I'm sorry. I made this so much worse, I..."

"No," Lan Wangji rasps. He cannot hear Wei Wuxian berate himself thus. His dignity has now died, and he himself will soon follow. This is all that matters. "Not your fault."

Wei Wuxian huffs, crouching beside him. "It is...at least partially my fault, at this point, I'm pretty sure. You wouldn't be...reacting. Like this. If it weren't. Is...can I...do a few more tests? To check what I got wrong, and maybe—"

"You were not wrong."

He does not mean to say it.

His need to reassure has overridden his sense, and his mind is too slow now to piece together what it will mean before it leaves his mouth. The regret once it does is instantaneous. He tries to curl himself yet smaller in the dirt.

Wei Wuxian is silent. Lan Wangji cannot stop making small, pitiful, pained sounds in the back of his throat. Everything hurts. Everything.

"I don't understand," Wei Wuxian says quietly.

Lan Wangji lies shivering on the floor, arms locked around himself to prevent any more untoward behavior. He cannot take it back. He cannot try to explain. There is nothing he could say, regardless.

"Lan Zhan...but you..."

He can hear Wei Wuxian thinking, but it only registers in the far back of his mind. The rest of his consciousness is taken up by pain, and by ruthless restraint.

"You wanted to leave to get away from me," Wei Wuxian says, finally.

Lan Wangji does not answer. He wishes he had his sword. He would use it now to end this.

Wei Wuxian begins to back away again, and Lan Wangji’s body moves without his permission. He grips the skirt of Wei Wuxian’s robes in his fist and drags himself closer, pressing his cheek to Wei Wuxian's knee.

Shameful. Wanton. The small part of himself that is still aware berates the action. But he cannot let go. He cannot move away. The only part of him that is not howling with pain is the side of his face pressed to coarse fabric.

"Lan Zhan, you…," Wei Wuxian is trying to gently pry Lan Wangji's fingers from his hem. "You wanted to leave, remember? You don't want...you don't."

"Want," Lan Wangji croaks, pressing closer. "Wanted to spare you."

"Ah, Lan Zhan...I...I'm still not sure it's that specific curse, it could...there could be other..."

"It is," Lan Wangji says, half-crawling up Wei Wuxian's leg. He wants to stop himself. It is impossible.

"Lan Zhan...you...you shouldn't—"

"Stop me," Lan Wangji pleads, nuzzling against Wei Wuxian's thigh, "Wei Ying, I can't...please. Stop me."

There is a long near-silence filled with harsh breaths, in which Lan Wangji is almost certain he imagines the light touch of fingers brushing his mussed hair back from his forehead. Then Wei Wuxian speaks.

"No," he says. "You'll die, if I do. Lan Zhan. I won't let that happen."

He touches Lan Wangji's face. Lan Wangji whimpers into him.

He knows this will break the fragile repairs they have made to their friendship. He will likely never see him again, at least not on good terms. The thought makes him feel ill. He should protest. Refuse. Flee. He can do exactly none of these things. He reaches for Wei Wuxian's wrist, to hold his hand to his face, but Wei Wuxian flinches away.

"You can't...Lan Zhan. I'm going to help you," he says, "but you have to...you can't...you can't touch me."

Lan Wangji feels another tight clench of shame. He nods against his leg. He understands: he knows any small part of this is too much to ask, let alone bearing his unwelcome, curse-fevered grasping.

"Okay," says Wei Wuxian. He slides his fingers beneath Lan Wangji’s chin again, tipping his face up.

He looks so uncertain. So beautiful in the dim light. Lan Wangji wants to weep with it.

"Lan Zhan, I know it doesn't count for much like this, but you have to tell me. You have to tell me what you need."

Lan Wangji turns his head, pressing his face between Wei Wuxian's thigh and stomach, trying to reach into him, to feel more of him, to stop hurting just enough to think. It does not work.

"You," he breathes, into the scent of earth, and stringent soap, and Wei Wuxian.

A harsh, uneven breath ghosts across his hair, and Wei Wuxian's hands grip his shoulders. He thinks he is about to be pushed away again, but instead Wei Wuxian pulls him up, pulls him close, folds him into his embrace.

Lan Wangji sobs into his shoulder, trying at once to get closer and to hold himself apart, instinct demanding, even now, that he try to conceal his obvious, disgraceful hardness. His muscles quake under the strain of doing both and neither, and Wei Wuxian smooths one hand down his back, pressing him close, pressing them flush. Lan Wangji chokes back a shocked sound.

"Shh," Wei Wuxian soothes. "It's alright."

It is not alright. It is the end of the thing Lan Wangji holds most dear.

But he does not have it in him to argue. He is shifting against him, his overheated body begging for touch, indeed for ravishment. He is mindless with it. The pain is not subsiding but slipping sideways into something more, something different, something necessary.

He is on his knees on hard stone, breathlessly held in the arms of his beloved. He has dreamt this: sweetly, hazily, with and without hope. But never like this. Never sick with remorse, with need, dying and demanding and defiling. His deepest desire twisted into a nightmare.

He whimpers again, his lips finding the soft coolness of Wei Wuxian's throat. Wei Wuxian jerks away again, and Lan Wangji fists his hands tighter at his sides, trying, trying not to overstep again.

"I—sorry," he gasps out. He will never be able to apologize enough. But he will try.

"Don't apologize," says Wei Wuxian. "I—"

He cuts himself off. Lan Wangji does not have enough sense to wonder why. In the same moment, one of his thighs gives under the strain, and he falls against him heavily. They tip over, to the floor, and he reaches out on instinct to brace them both. When he is again conscious of himself, Wei Wuxian is lying on top of him, breathing hard, both of Lan Wangji's wrists pinned to the floor in one hand. Lan Wangji arches against him inadvertently, and turns his face into his own bicep.

"Sorry, I...so sorry," he pants, his hips flexing, searching for friction. "I have...no control...”

"I know," Wei Wuxian says, "I know, I shouldn't have..." he swallows hard. "I'm going to keep you like this. Can I?"

Lan Wangji nods frantically, his eyes shut tight. He does not care. Anything that he can do to make this any less invasive for Wei Wuxian, he will do.

Wei Wuxian pulls away then, his hold still firm on Lan Wangji's wrists. Lan Wangji squeezes his eyes shut and tries to stop moving, to stop searching for touch, to stop making such a disgusting spectacle of himself, but to no avail. What feels like centuries later, he hears the telltale sounds of talisman activation. He is too far gone in his pain to look up, to see what they are. He simply lies there, pinned and writhing, his breath catching in his throat. The sounds it makes are small, pitiful, desperate.

Just like him.

Eventually, Wei Wuxian leans back over him, a considering look in his eye. His hand hovers at Lan Wangjis belt.

"I—should I..."

"Yes," pleads Lan Wangji.

He needs Wei Wuxian's skin on his skin. He does not know how discerning the curse is about what happens now, but it feels as if he will die without it. Wei Wuxian takes what looks like a fortifying breath and unties the belt. Lan Wangji, unable to help, instead hinders the process with his ceaseless movement. But Wei Wuxian manages it with deft hands, and immediately unties each layer of robes in quick succession until Lan Wangji’s chest and stomach are bare.

The cool air of the cave does not soothe his burning. It burns like ice instead. Lan Wangji shivers, an ugly whine escaping him.

"What," Wei Wuxian asks, pausing, "what is it?"

Lan Wangji shakes his head. He will bear it. He will not make demands.

"Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian says, "you need to talk to me, I...I don't want to make this even worse, or, or draw it out longer."

Something small and dark crumples in Lan Wangji's chest. He does not want that either. He will need to speak. To ask.

"Hurts," he says, rough and thick.

"Where?"

"...Not...not touching me."

Wei Wuxian makes a distressed noise and lays both his palms flat over Lan Wangji's ribs. Lan Wangji groans, pressing up into them.

"Please," he whispers, helpless. "Please."

"Oh, Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian murmurs, something sad like regret. He leans closer and slides one hand down. Lan Wangji shudders under him. "I'm just going to..."

Lan Wangji nods again, holding his breath to stop the whines from escaping the back of his throat.

Wei Wuxian unties Lan Wangji's trousers and slips his hand inside. Clever fingers wrap hesitantly around him, and he bucks up into them with an obscene moan. It is minor relief from the most consuming pain he has ever felt, and it is simultaneously the most intense pleasure he has ever experienced. All of these sensations, coexisting in his fallible human body, feel likely to rip him apart.

"Wei Ying," he moans again, when Wei Wuxian moves his hand.

He gasps for air, his body twisting into it, his whole being searching for Wei Wuxian. He makes another piteous sound, the torment of it all overwhelming. Wei Wuxian leans down against him then, his own robes open, pressing them skin to skin.

Lan Wangji sobs. It is something. It is something. The pain abates somewhat, and he sighs, turning toward him, his mouth brushing Wei Wuxian's hair. He has the wherewithal now to fight the urge to kiss his head properly, his face, anything he can reach. He holds himself still beneath him instead. And Wei Wuxian touches him, and touches him. The incomprehensible pleasure builds, and builds, until Lan Wangji cannot breathe. But it does not break.

Something almost like soft lips brushes his throat.

"Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian says into his ear, "this, is this...will this be enough?"

The pleasure is just another kind of pain, now. Lan Wangji shakes his head as sweat rolls off of him, as he tries and fails to get enough air to speak.

Wei Wuxian clears his throat. "What, then?"

Lan Wangji's body knows what it needs. But he does not want to tell.

"Come on, Lan Zhan, after all this? Don't get shy on me now."

He misses the joking tone he is aiming for, but the pure, unmistakable Wei Wuxian-ness of the tease sends a surge of genuine desire through Lan Wangji. He wraps his legs around Wei Wuxian's hips and pulls him down. Wei Wuxian breathes in sharply.

"You just...you want...but only..."

"Please," says Lan Wangji, barely voiced. "In—" he cannot say it. "Please."

"Ah," Wei Wuxian whispers, into his skin. "If—are you sure?"

Lan Wangji whines. He wishes he were not so very sure. He wishes he were not asking Wei Wuxian to do something so intimate, so extreme. He wishes Wei Wuxian had let him die before it ever came to this.

"Alright Lan Zhan, just hold—hold on," he says, and is gone.

Lan Wangji clamps his mouth shut on a scream as the agony slams back into him, worse even than before.

Not soon enough, Wei Wuxian returns to divest him of his boots, socks and trousers. Lan Wangji fights him without meaning to, trying to keep his knees curled up to his chest, trying to minimize the hurt. Wei Wuxian is briskly patient, handling him with aching care he does not deserve.

And then he is upon him, chest and stomach, hips and thighs, smooth and hard and exquisite. Lan Wangji almost forgets the pain in the rush of gratitude, of solace. Their robes trail off them both, gathering dust as they move together in halting fits and starts.

"Don't let me hurt you, Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian grits out, a strong hand lifting one of Lan Wangji's thighs by the back of the knee.

It is nonsense. He could not hurt Lan Wangji any more than this. And Lan Wangji could not stop him now if he did.

But the kindness. Even in this. Tears prick at Lan Wangji's eyes. He will miss him. He will miss all of Wei Wuxian with all of himself. He will never stop missing him. He will never move past this regret as long as he lives. How could he? Every breath he draws will be by the grace of Wei Wuxian.

Suddenly there is slick pressure against him, against his most private of places, and he gasps, loud and wretched. Wei Wuxian exhales, uneven and deep, and pushes in, in, in. Slowly. So slowly. Lan Wangji bites down hard on his lip to keep from begging for it. His arms are pinned, as are his hips, Wei Wuxian holding him steady, holding him still. Lan Wangji loses all sense. There is only the weight of Wei Wuxian, the full, stinging press of him, the searing pain, the devastating euphoria of being this close, and yet so very far in every way that counts.

Ages pass before Wei Wuxian is fully seated inside him. By then Lan Wangji's breaths are wet and shallow; scraping, desolate things. He does not know any longer what hurts and what feels good. It is all one and the same. He only knows he needs more, in some primal, wordless way.

He asks with the arch of his back, the squeeze of his thighs. He tries, somehow, to keep quiet, but fails more often than not.

"Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian says tightly, "try to relax, I'm going to move. Tell me if it...if it's right."

Lan Wangji manages a loose nod, though he barely understands.

And Wei Wuxian moves. He rolls his hips against him, shifting inside of him, and Lan Wangji groans. Each deep, short thrust pushes air from his lungs, and he lacks the strength to catch it again. It is beyond pleasure. It is ecstatic. To have Wei Wuxian around him, inside him, panting above him. A deep, villainous part of him wants it never to end. The rest of him howls for release.

He is dripping now, steadily, onto his own stomach. He can feel it pooling on his belly, unpleasantly cool. He whimpers between desperate, panting breaths, beyond words.

"Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian says, breath shivering across Lan Wangji's collarbone, "I can't...can't keep this up, you feel too—" his breath catches, and he pauses. "I'm going to finish. You need to come."

Dimly, distantly, the idea that Wei Wuxian should derive pleasure from this, no matter how perfunctory, gives Lan Wangji a perverse sort of satisfaction. It snuffs out like a candle at the nebulous thought that perhaps in another world, they could have had this for real.

In this world, the fact remains that this has gone on far too long. But Lan Wangji can do nothing about it. He meets Wei Wuxian's thrusts, leans into the pleasure, tries to gain the momentum to go over the edge. He should be able to. It should be easy. He has been so hard for so long, has been given more now than in his absolute wildest and wettest of dreams, and yet he hovers, scant inches away.

Wei Wuxian loses patience, his head dropping to Lan Wangji's shoulder. He grunts softly and fists Lan Wangji's wet cock, quick and merciless. Lan Wangji cries out, shuddering violently with the extended, expansive stimulation, worked both inside and out, helplessly, utterly unmade by Wei Wuxian's touch.

And still he does not crest. He is sobbing steadily now, ugly and jagged, and Wei Wuxian kisses his shoulder, his throat, his cheek.

"Were we wrong?" He asks, breathless. "Lan Zhan please, tell—show me, I...I can't...you...I can't lose you. Lan Zhan?"

Exhausted, Lan Wangji turns his tearstained face toward him, blindly seeking. Perhaps they were all wrong. Perhaps he will die now, like this. And perhaps it is selfish of him, but having heard those words, he finds his regret to be less than it should be. Everything, everything hurts. But Wei Wuxian will miss him, too. Of course he will. They are zhiji. This, miraculously, will not erase that. It is more than he deserves. Wei Wuxian has always been more than he deserves.

Lan Wangji heaves, and writhes, and cries.

Wei Wuxian kisses him. Soft, gloriously cool lips on his.

An odd, fleeting, hollow feeling.

The dam breaks. The pain goes suddenly quiet. Roaring to fullness in its absence is the killing swell of such a long-delayed climax. It is possible that he calls Wei Wuxian's name. It is impossible to know.

The world, again, goes dark.

-----

Lan Wangji wakes to gray light and distant birdsong. A sharp edge is digging into his shoulder. He shifts, then goes still at the deep ache in his entire body.

He remembers.

"Hanguang-jun should drink this," says a brisk voice to his right.

Wen Qing sits there, watching him. His heart skips a beat and he looks down. But he is fully clothed once more.

Her smile is wry as she holds a cup out to him. Laboriously, he sits up to take it. It is bitter, but familiar. A restorative. He thanks her formally.

She shakes her head. "No need.” She turns to go.

"Wen-guniang," Lan Wangji says. She pauses. "How long has it been gone?"

She turns to stare at him. He knows she knows what he means.

"How? When?"

She looks away. "You'll have to ask him."

The pang of loss he felt upon waking with Wei Wuxian gone speaks for him. "Will he let me?"

He lies on the slab of rock that serves as Wei Wuxian's bed for too long. It is difficult to tell the passage of time in the Burial Mounds, but it seems slightly brighter than it had...before. He reasons that it could well be the next morning. He wonders if Wei Wuxian slept beside him, then tosses the thought away as gross indulgence. He wonders instead, as he has many times since his last visit, if Wei Wuxian sleeps at all.

First, his excuse to tarry is meditation. He works at it, simultaneously restoring his drained core and healing himself, until the discomfort fades from his every movement to just a specific few.

Once that is done, he has no reason to be idle. But the voice in his head, Wei Wuxian's blisteringly cold one that had called him his proper name all those months ago, keeps him in place. He hears it saying all manner of things in response to seeing him now.

"What more could you possibly want of me?" Wei Wuxian sneers in his mind. And he would be right to do so.

But Lan Wangji does not intend to ask anything of him ever again.

And there is the other thing. The fact that his robes should be uncomfortable, filthy, but they have been cleaned, dried, and arranged back onto his body properly. Comfortably. Almost as if—

He dares not imagine. But at the very least it does not speak of utter contempt.

So he rises. He follows the path Wen Qing told him of. And he does something foolish. He hopes.

After no short while of walking, he comes to a slightly darker, more silent corner of deadened forest. He rounds a bend and sees Wei Wuxian crouched a little ways off, and then hears high, lilting notes as if through water. The energies are strange here, and Wei Wuxian is speaking to with them in their own language.

Lan Wangji approaches until he sees Wei Wuxian go still. He says nothing. Wei Wuxian drops his flute from his lips.

"Are you well?" He asks without rising or turning.

"I am."

Wei Wuxian nods. "Your people are waiting for you."

It is a dismissal. Lan Wangji recognizes this. But he will impose just a little bit longer.

"Your core," he says. Wei Wuxian stands abruptly, still facing away, gripping Chenqing. "Can it be replaced?"

Wei Wuxian whirls to face him, anger and fear warring with the questions on his face.

Lan Wangji has other questions, too. But they do not matter. He is intelligent enough to piece together the cold, empty space where Wei Wuxian's core should be, the tired guilt on Wen Qing's face, and...

"Your scar," he says, dropping his gaze to the scorched earth.

He should not know of it. But he does, now, and he also owes a greater debt than he can ever repay. Wei Wuxian does not respond. How dearly Lan Wangji wants to see his expression. But he will not infringe on any more of his privacy.

The wind howls. He waits.

"You won't tell anybody," Wei Wuxian says uncertainly.

Lan Wangji stiffens. "I will not."

"Nobody told you?"

"Nobody.”

Wei Wuxian pauses, momentarily satisfied.

"You're not going to ask how? Or when?"

Lan Wangji would like to. He would like to know everything of Wei Wuxian, even his sorrow, his pain. But he is not entitled to those things. There is only one point that matters.

"Can it be replaced? Can the procedure be reversed?"

Wei Wuxian sighs. Lan Wangji can tell he does not wish to speak of this.

"So single-minded, Lan Zhan," he scolds, then shakes his head. "The chance of success would be small; the chance of finding a donor, much smaller."

But this is all Lan Wangji hoped to hear. It is enough. He goes to his knees, arms circled in front of his chest.

"Allow me," he says.

"Lan Zhan!" Wei Wuxian darts forward, trying to pull Lan Wangji up from the ground. Eventually he gives up and goes to his knees in front of him, pushing at his arms. "Lan Zhan, stop this," he says, panicked. "Don't be stupid, stop—Lan Zhan, you can't be serious."

"Please allow me," Lan Wangji repeats, eyes downcast.

"Stop this!" Wei Wuxian shouts. "It can't be done, and I wouldn't take it from you anyway!"

Lan Wangji flinches bodily. He had not considered...but yes. Everything in him is sullied. He bends at the waist, bowing further.

"Apologies for the offense," he says, then snaps his mouth shut. His voice is too obviously strained.

"Lan Zhan?" Wei Wuxian says, still alarmed.

Lan Wangji needs to leave. He has already overstayed. But he...he has not tried hard enough.

"This debt is too great to repay in one lifetime," he says. "Please inform this one of what he may do to begin."

Wei Wuxian sags, dragging one of Lan Wangji's wrists with him. "Lan Zhan, there is no debt between us."

Lan Wangji only just stops himself from glancing up. He does not understand.

"I owe you my life and more," he says. "You took great pains to save me, even as the situation proved me unworthy of it. I owe—"

"You owe me nothing," Wei Wuxian insists, shaking Lan Wangji's arm. "There were no great pains. Nobody is unworthy. Well...you aren't."

Lan Wangji opens his mouth to protest, but Wei Wuxian speaks over him.

"People have...desires, Lan Zhan. There's nothing unworthy about it."

"But you—"

"Stop," he says. He sounds so, so tired. "If you hadn't been...dying. If we—" He stops. "Just keep my secret," he says, and lets go of his wrist. "And live well."

Lan Wangji closes his eyes. The thought of going back to his home, his life, after this, had not yet occurred to him. It sinks him from his knees to the ground. How can he do this? How can he leave him this way?

"Wei Ying," he pleads. "I must...I must do something. I cannot...I..."

"Why, Lan Zhan?" Wei Wuxian asks, not unkindly. "You have responsibilities. People to protect, just like me. Live well, and count things even between us. Why not?"

Lan Wangji’s chest caves in. He does not make the sound clawing up his throat.

"You...truly, you must know why," he says. "After... you must know. I would not leave you in need. I could not."

"Ah, Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian says sadly. He shuffles forward. Lan Wangji startles at the feel of fingertips on his cheek. "You're too good. But all I need is," he huffs, "political asylum for me and 40 friends? It's not your burden."

Suddenly yet slowly, like the first burst of sunrise, an idea reveals itself on the horizon of Lan Wangji’s mind. It is unorthodox. And likely unwelcome. But it is all he has.

"My uncle made a suggestion," he says. "When my affliction became known. It is true that he did not know what it would mean, but I would hold him to it. If it is not...hateful, to you."

"I don't know what you mean," Wei Wuxian says warily.

Lan Wangji steels himself. "You are perceived as the head of a sect. A proper alliance could protect your people, and Gusu Lan is in need of hands for rebuilding. The person who cast this curse upon me has given the perfect excuse, and made themselves scapegoat. If you would...I would not ask anything of you, if you agreed. It would be a marriage in name only, as you wish it."

Wei Wuxian's silence turns to spluttering. "M—Lan Zh—marriage?? What—how—"

"If the idea is odious, I will not mention it again. But as I said. My uncle suggested it. And under the circumstances, he cannot refuse."

"Your—he—Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan, look at me. Look at me, please."

Lan Wangji looks at him. His eyes are wide. Disbelieving. Concerned.

"Your uncle would qi deviate if you even hinted at such a thing," he says. "Gusu Lan is in a precarious enough position, you don't need...I have nothing to offer in return." He pats his lower stomach, empty of spiritual energy, emphatically. “Nothing. Don't be ridiculous."

"It is not ridiculous," Lan Wangji argues, certain now that he is right. "You can offer more protection for us, and we can offer legitimacy. The person who cast this curse can be seen to have forced our hands. Has—has forced our hands."

He stops himself. He should not push this. Wei Wuxian is looking at him as if he does not know him.

"You don't want to marry me, Lan Zhan."

This gives Lan Wangji pause. It is a confusing objection, to say the least. He stares, trying to comprehend. He clears his throat. Takes a breath.

"If you are under the impression..." he stops. Drops his eyes once more. "...that the...impetus of the curse. Is the whole of the way I—”

"Demonic cultivation," Wei Wuxian interrupts. "It would be unhealthy. For you. And your elders! They wouldn't let me, not if I were...attached to your sect. To you.”

A fair concern, and one Lan Wangji has been turning over in his own mind as well. "Is this your only objection?"

Wei Wuxian casts about. "Ah..."

Lan Wangji takes one last plunge. "The elders can be reasoned with, compromises can be made. I am not concerned for my health: being near you could never be harmful to me." He hears himself, then, and amends, "Though you need not. Be near me. That is not a condition."

"You would defend this?" Wei Wuxian asks, bemused.

"Defend what?"

"My cultivation path. You..."

Lan Wangji resists a sigh. "I understand the reason, now. And I believe...if you did not object. We could work toward making it safe, without stripping you of what your hard work has created."

"Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian says. He reaches out, then stops.

Lan Wangji stares at his hand, hovering between them. His heart is beating so hard he can feel it in his eyes, in his tongue.

"Wei Ying."

"You would let me, though?"

His tone is gently mocking. His head is cocked to the side, the edge of a smile playing across his lips. It knocks the breath from Lan Wangji's chest.

"Let you?" He asks, dazed.

"Be near you."

Lan Wangji's heart stops. It is a moment before he can respond.

"I would. Always."

Wei Wuxian takes his hand, and sighs. "You don't owe me this," he says again.

"I do," Lan Wangji counters, off-kilter. "I owe you. And I want to. I would want to, even if—"

He loosens his tight grip on Wei Wuxian's hand. He is saying too much, taking too much, being too much. He settles himself. Finds the words that matter.

"It would be a thing happily given, with no strings attached, should you wish it."

Wei Wuxian laughs strangely. "Lan Zhan, you really..." He shakes his head. "I'd marry you in an instant, you know," says.

Lan Wangji's neck hurts from the speed with which he looks up at him. Hope, warm and liquid, blooms through his limbs.

"But I can't make this decision on my own," Wei Wuxian goes on. "It's not just my life. We have to talk it over with everyone."

"Yes," Lan Wangji says, surprised, and eager now that he sees the possibility of success. Of doing something of use.

"Alright," says Wei Wuxian, a smile hidden in the corner of his mouth. "I can't promise...but it...it could work."

"It will," Lan Wangji says, certain that the strength of his conviction alone will carry them through if need be.

He feels strange and dreamlike, confused but heartened by the turn in this conversation. That Wei Wuxian can stand the sight of him, let alone wish to ally with him personally, seems too wonderful to be true. Another Wei Wuxian hallmark.

"But Lan Zhan, no more talk of strings," Wei Wuxian says.

Lan Wangji sobers and nods. It is unseemly. Of course their understanding must be a tacit one, now.

But his hand is suddenly in both of Wei Wuxian's.

"You need to stop feeling guilty," Wei Wuxian says, looking down at it. "If I were your husband...if I were. We could try all that again, but without the impending doom. We could try it again any way we like, any time—all the time—and we'd—"

"Wei Ying," Lan Wangji interrupts, strangled. His heart is in his throat. He cannot comprehend what he is hearing. His ears, his face, are on fire.

Wei Wuxian smiles down at their hands, one part shy, one part mischief. "I think we could get really good at it, if we had the chance, don't you?"

Lan Wangji stares at him. "You..."

"Mn," says Wei Wuxian, meeting his eyes.

He shines so bright, even without any core to speak of. He takes Lan Wangji's breath away.

"I take it back," Wei Wuxian says, his voice suddenly urgent. "I like strings. Mine is that if this happens, I want to be your real husband. In name, in practice, in bed, and in your heart. Because you would be, in mine."

Lan Wangji's voice sticks in his throat. He feels...he feels unreal. He does not know what to do, to say. Perhaps they never broke the curse at all and he has simply gone mad. But Wei Wuxian's fingers stroking his palm, the root-knotted dirt beneath his shins, are real. He sways, unbalanced.

Wei Wuxian reaches out. Catches him. Folds him into his arms for a second time. Lan Wangji's breath shudders out of him.

He is on his knees, breathlessly held in the arms of his beloved. He has dreamt this many ways. But never has it been so real, so full of hope. He wraps his arms around Wei Wuxian in turn, buries his face in his shoulder.

Wei Wuxian huffs. "Jiang Cheng is going to be so angry."

Lan Wangji comes back down to earth. It is true he had not thought of this. He makes to pull away. "How should—"

Wei Wuxian clutches him tighter. "I don't care," he says, "I don't care, we can manage him." He pauses, then speaks more softly. "Maybe...I could see shijie's wedding after all. Or—no. It's too soon, I—"

"Yes," says Lan Wangji. "You will. We will go together."

Wei Wuxian takes a deep breath, and lets it out into Lan Wangji's hair.

"Together," he says.

It takes several serious, and at times uncomfortable, discussions, but in the end, Gusu Lan’s Second Jade is indeed thoroughly removed from the marriage pool of the great sects. The curse caster is found and punished. And everybody else lives happily ever after.

The end.

-----

(Thank you for coming on this wildly self-indulgent journey, I hope you enjoyed it. If you’d like to read some actually nicely-polished, fleshed-out fics by me—including another sex-cursed LWJ—check out my AO3.)

#my fic #mdzsnet #the untamed fanfic #theuntameddaily #bottom lan wangji #that tag just...has to go there bc i know people actually find things through it #on tumblr??? you ask #yes my friends evidently #anyway here's...this #angst that morphs suddenly into the MOST indulgent of fix-its #does it have a consistent tone??? is it Good??? who knows. unimportant #is it not enough to simply tweet 9 thousand words in 3 days and then yeet it at your tumblr followers too #this isn't FOR a literary award....it's for melodrmatic wangxian Feels and nothing else #i hope you enjoy it!!!! <3

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husbandohunter · 4 years ago

Text

Moments of Despair #1 [Genshin Impact/Diluc x Reader]

Synopsis: “The man who was on fire and realized it too late.”

(A series of works where the boys deal with the passing of their beloved).

Albedo's despair

Warnings: angst, tragedy, major character death, graphic depictions of violence perhaps

(A/n): Had these ideas for a while after reading @/serensama To Mourn series of another fandom. So much sorrow and feeling I just was inspired to write 😫

_______________________________________________

The moment you fell lifeless in Diluc's arms, he wanted to disappear.

It was raining again, he had always despised the rain. How it trickles down the slope of your cheek, like tears falling from the heavens. The sight of it mixing with your blood creating a thin stream of red rivers flowing beside him. They patter down obnoxiously because time didn't care, the gods don't care, the world didn't care. You were just a small fragile person to their eyes but to him you were his light. A candle that used to shine in his dark world was now dissipitated by the waters of reality.

Many droplets have passed and he was still holding you. Diluc could do nothing but stare. He hadn't shed any tears nor could he make a coherent sound. Perhaps it was because his tears have long run out when his father was held in the very same way. Or it was because he was heartless. He's usually told for being cold and indifferent. But the pain clenching in his chest was proof that he still had one (proof that it was still beating), much to his dismay. It would be better if he didn't.

So why can't he just look away? Your wounds, your bruised features, everything now etched so deep into the back of his conciousness that is was starting to awaken his worst nightmares. They were the source of the bile growing in his stomach. The irony stench filling up his nostrils felt so sickening. He couldn't turn away. You're dead. You're dead. You're dead. As if reality had yet to register, or maybe he refused to accept it, Diluc helplessly gazed down your body with blank and empty eyes.

"Master Diluc..."

Jean's voice called out to him pitifully. He rises up with his back turned, ignoring the stares given to him, "Leave. The knights of favonius are not needed here."

"But she's a Mondstadt citizen," The anemo user retorts, slightly taken aback by his impassive reaction, "It's my responsibility to ensure this case doesn't go unnoticed."

Unnoticed. Diluc scoffs in his mind, what a tasteless joke.

"It seems you weren't listening," he announces as his head was turned ajar so they could see the deep hatred glowing red in his eyes, "Leave. Now."

Jean's lips trembled before barely being able to say, "Alright" and retreating her knights back to the city. Kaeya narrows his gaze at his bother, the sorrow was evident through his pupils. He steps forward until he was arms length away from his brother. Too little too late, another failure was added to the belt.

Kaeya was a man of many words but for once he was at loss of what to say. No underhanded suggestions, no ideas taunting him to spill his thoughts, he simply asks Diluc, "What are you planning to do now?"

Silence. Kaeya couldn't predict what sort of expression his brother was making as he looks at your corpse. It brought a heavy weight of unsettlement upon him and here he thought he had already grown used to his brother's quietness.

Slowly, he turns around while letting the water pour down his face. Kaeya tightens his jaw as Diluc drags his feet towards him, stopping when their shoulders were parallel, "It's none of your concern."

"You're just going to leave her here?"

There was a slight pause which was enough of an answer. The Cavalry Captain sighs when he watched him walk away, what was the point of asking when Kaeya knew Diluc so well? He glances at your form before swiftly shutting his eyes.

It was his concern.

-------

A week later, the staff of the Ragnvindr household could hardly recognize their Master's appearance. They knew not to bother him when he decides to lock himself in his chambers. Diluc drowns himself with work from hours to no end as he connects the findings of the person that took your life. As expected, it was one of his enemies- a fatui member. The question was, which one?

"Master Diluc, I beg of you, please take care of yourself," Elzer pleads.

The pyro user didn't bother to spare him a glance or look at the tray of food he carried.

Food...you always brought them whenever he had to work overtime.

"I do not remember specifiying anyone to be allowed in my office," he voices aloud, "If it's related to business affairs simply leave that with Adelinde and I'll take a look at it tomorrow."

"I understand. But you've been working all day and night yet refusing to take any breaks in between. At this rate, you'll harm your health."

The feather pen in his grip kept dragging it's course, "This is beyond the duties assigned to you Elzer."

"That's because it was a request sent by your father," he adds, knowing that stepping over his boundaries may cost him, "If Master Crepus was still here, I'm sure he would have said the same thing."

Taking a deep breath, Elzer lays out his last card, "And also your wife."

The pen slows into a halt.

No one had brought you up until now. Elzer anxiously watches his Master shifting in his seat, his red bangs covering half of his face but he could still see the frown pressing firmly on his lips. It wouldn't be a surprise if Diluc suddenly bursted at him for mentioning such a sensitive topic, all that matters was his master's well being and Elzer was willing to risk everything for it. But nothing. Diluc turns his attention ever so slightly at the tray he carried.

"Fine, but I'm not eating that."

"What? Wasn't this was her favourite-"

"Do I need to repeat myself?"

Elzer furrows his brows before sighing, "...No, Master Diluc."

He exits the room while carrying the fresh dish of Once Upon A Mondstadt that you loved so much. The door closes with a soft click and he was alone again.

People found it strange how Diluc seemed so vacant to your passing. He didn't even show up at your funeral. Instead, he continues his duties as a Mondstadt nobleman like usual while taking care of business matters associated with the winery. Except those who were close to him could see the difference in his actions. Apathy, he was so mechanical in every task he did. Like a marionette attatched on strings, a doll without a soul. After all, his soul died the moment when yours did too. What remains was a shadow of Diluc and a being existing solely for revenge and duty. He was nothing but a remnant.

Fatigue begins to wash over him and he fights to stay awake. Because once he gives in it will all be over. Once he closes his eyes, he would see your face with a multitude of images from the past. He would hear your voice calling out his name from a distant space as it echoes off the walls of his mind. He would fall into a dream where you were still with him and as always, waking up to see that it was never real.

I should have pushed you away.

Because what hurt Diluc the most wasn't that you were gone, rather, it was how you were still here.

Then you'd still be-

Something breaks and it turned out to be the pen he was holding so tightly. Only now Diluc realized how fast his heart was thrumming as beads of sweat began rolling down his forehead. Focus. Don't waste time. He won't grant himself the liberty of anything when your murderer was still on the run. Every wound they inflicted on you was going to be returned in tenfold. He'll make sure of it. That's why, he refuses to think about you at all. Diluc occupies his mind with other matters since at this point, work was the only efficient method of keeping his sanity in tact.

She needs you to focus.

The door opens and Kaeya enters the room while holding a document, "We found the guy."

His reaction was immediate, "Where?"

"Hm, now that we meet, it's actually quite debateable," The captain notes wryly, "When was the last time you've gotten proper rest?"

"I don't have time for this, either you tell me or I'll do it by force."

Kaeya couldn't help but sigh, "Apologies but you don't seem to be in any state for a fight. I'm sure you know how it would end up if you were to face your enemy right now."

"..."

"Diluc, this isn't healthy," Kaeya asserts, it's been a while since he sounded so sincere, "I'm not here to prevent you from doing what's necessary however, perhaps it would be better if I finished it in your stead."

"No," Diluc stubbornly answers, "Hand that over."

"...Heh, then there's really nothing I can do to stop you it seems," he whispers with a sad smile, "At the very least, be careful."

"I intend to," The pyro user snatches the paper parchment out of Kaeya's hands before opening the window, "Also, if Elzer returns, tell him there's a few errands I have to take care of."

The night was a full moon and the sky was empty, Diluc leaps off the edge and disappears into the darkness. There was no telling of what could happen next. Since you weren't here, it was up to Kaeya to watch over him.

-------

The claymore dropped to the ground with a clang as it soaks up the blood of the fatui he just killed.

Diluc was tired, so tired.

He slumps down against the wall from pure exhaustion, all that adrenaline and hatred went up in fumes, leaving behind whatever was left in his heart: nothing. Two hours, not even that far from Mondstadt, the fatui hid in an abandoned building as he cowarded for his life. When Diluc arrived, he never expected this monster to be so weak. This was the person who murdered you? A pathetic nobody that was simply following orders? This was the reason why he lost you forever?

In the end, the only one to blame was himself, for being weak and unable to protect you. He was supposed to be your hero ("Darknight hero," you'd always tease), the rock that shields you just as you had been the warmth he longed for many years, did he give you enough? Was this enough? He thought avenging your death would grant him a peace of mind and the justice you deserved but deep down, he knew it will never be enough when it comes to his love for you.

"Diluc."

He closes his eyes, he hears your voice. He was so tired, it wouldn't be a surprise if he started hallucinating.

"Diluc."

"I'm sorry..."

The man lets out a trembled breath as he apologized to the image of you in his mind. I'm sorry I failed you. They were repeated like a mantra in hopes to reach you somehow. Of course that was impossible, his feelings, his emotions, love and sorrow altogether will never reach you again. And your arms that once comforted him and brushed his hair with a soothing voice, saying everything will be okay, where are they now?

"Diluc."

"Stop," he didn't want to hear your voice.

"Diluc, I'm here."

"Stop..."

"Diluc..."

He jolts his eyes open and lets out a yell, what was he saying? He doesn't know. All he needed now was to drown out the fake voices mocking in his head. Diluc grabs the nearest object and shatters it against the floor, the dam was broken and it flooded uncontrollably, breaking everything in it's way. The abandoned house was filled with loud cries of a man sobbing with agony like a broken-hearted child. He crumbles to his knees and falls to his side, lifting his forearms while clutching his face.

And screamed.

Archons, what did he do to deserve this? Why do the people he cherish get taken away from him? Diluc never wanted to be the Darknight hero if it meant having his father perish in his arms. He didn't want the feeling of stabs against his chest with every breath he took. He didn't want to feel cold while knowing it was because you weren't here to hold him. He didn't want your voice, your pictures or your memory.

He wanted you.

"(Y/n)..." he chokes. Rolling to his back, Diluc moves his arms to cover his eyes, letting the tears run down to his ears, "(Y/n)..."

For who knows how long, he lays there in the abandoned building and mourns. Diluc doesn't have the strength to move from his position, he found himself staring mindlessly through the cracks of the roof when his voice had gone hoarse. The corners of his eyes still burned and his head was throbbing with so much pain. Maybe he should just stay here but the thought of being in the same room as your murderer was unfathomable.

Picking up his claymore once again, Diluc drags himself out of the door. Where would he go? It's not like he had a home to return to because home was when he was with you. A doll without a soul, the marionette moves as if the strings have commanded him to do so. Where ever it takes him, he didn't care. He just knew he had to go.

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mrvdocks · 2 years ago

Text

Life As We Know It VII.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Reader

Chapter Summary: Robin comes over to help you out and for moral support. Your relationship with Steve starts to take a turn.

Author's Note: whaaaat??? I'm posting again? And more than once in a row?? No but for real hey y’all! hope y’all are still enjoying the fic even after its long and much awaited return :)) also the nickname that Robin gives the reader as “Bee” is meant to be like bumblebee and an affectionate term based on their history.

There’s always someone there when you’re born. Whether it’s a nurse, a doctor, your mom, your dad, anyone really. You’re never alone.

When you die however, that’s when it gets tricky. Some people die alone. Some die with strangers. And sometimes some just die in places no one will ever find them.

You hoped it was the latter for your friends, embracing death surrounded by those they loved.

The rapid rhythm of your heart persisted, going crazy in your rib cage at the thought of existential dread. Parenthood wasn’t something you were particularly crazy or happy about. Hell, you weren’t sure you had the right upbringing either. Co-parenting with Steve was also the least of your worries. But there was a tiny voice in your head - you couldn’t tell if it was Nancy’s or Jonathan’s - that urged you to go on in their ever so usual forcing yet gentle tones.

You wished for a simpler peace. Instead all you got were a baby, a manchild, and a booklet on how to plan for funerals.

The booklet went tap - tap - tap on your chest, nearly ripping off its stapled spine after so much looking through it. You set it aside, choosing to not look at it any further. You weren’t so determined to get up, you much rather would wait to lay in bed until you heard Abby’s cries. Either way, Steve was still soundly asleep on the big couch in front of the television in the living room.

You were waiting for Robin to show up to the house, who knew funeral planning took a village?

Once your phone buzzed and you nearly ripped it off of the charging pod to confirm her arrival, you lept up and out of the messy bed and down the stairs. Steve remained asleep even during the heavy pattering of your feet against the wooden stairs. Not surprising, he’d gone out the night before and gotten absolutely plastered.

After his small outburst in the car a few days ago, it wasn’t hard to understand why he was acting this way. That he had a right to be upset about uprooting his life. That’s where you found similarities in each other. But where you differed was where and how you both sought to cope. He went out and partied while you stayed home and let every emotion overwhelm you until you cried your eyes out and became dehydrated.

You chuckled dryly to yourself, feeling a familiar familial feeling to it.

Robin had been an absolute rock for both of you during this time, obviously being the voice of reason that kept you and Steve from going at it like usual. Though Robin and Kali would often spend time with you two, Kali was often busy running the bar and so Robin would come in when she could. The two of them often taking turns checking up on everyone. Will called the day after the news hit their side, a sobbing and slobbering mess like you. He promised to visit soon, just as soon as Joyce got a little better, though the news only seemed to make her health decline.

Though you suddenly had a help line, you felt so ashamed to ask for help or emotional guidance. It wasn’t something you grew up with nor was it something your family ever offered. To have that felt strange and foreign.

Robin carried an array of mail from outside, groceries, and along with a bag that contained a change of clothes for Steve. She beamed slightly, showing off her pearly whites as she entered the threshold and waved at you with her free hand. You smiled back slightly. It felt odd to you. Especially when all you did was the opposite. But Robin was a glass half full kind of person, always so persistent to keep going.

“Hey Bee, got you some essentials and some other things. Didn’t know what you needed so I just kind of grabbed whatever I thought you’d like, hope that’s okay.”

“More than okay,” you respond, taking the things from her and walking over to the kitchen and setting everything on the island. “Anything works at this point. I don’t really know what to make here or even have the appetite to eat anyway.”

Her brows furrow, “You have to eat Bee- you��re starting to look a little like a ghost. When’s the last time you got some sun or something?”

Suddenly self conscious, you wrap your arms around your body and shrug. “I dunno. I haven’t really gone out since we picked up Abby. Nancy kept some snacks or cereal bars around so that’s all I’ve had.”

Robin shakes her head sympathetically. “Well, I brought food so we’re going to try to make something. You know I can’t cook to save my life so let’s see what we get otherwise we’re getting takeout.”

This spurs a chuckle out of you. You silently agree.

It only takes the two of you about nearly an hour or two to somehow pull through making a simple dish and conversations that go from whatever’s on tv at the moment to deep personal things for you to feel somewhat normal again.

“How’re you feeling?” She suddenly asks, her mouth slightly muffled from the food she was bringing to her lips to eat. “Still scared?”

You don’t know how to answer that, no one’s asked you that yet. Or maybe they have. You’re not sure. You’ve been blanking a lot lately.

You feel your shoulders drop as you release a sigh. “Not so much scared - just hopeful. I want to be someone Abby can depend on. Not just some cheap replacement for her real parents. I want to be able to do something for myself or for someone else and not be seen as this girl from Hawkins from the other side of the tracks everyone should feel sorry for.”

Especially when tragedy seems to always follow you.

“First of all, you're not a cheap replacement. Jonathan and Nancy picked you for a reason. They trusted you, they loved you, they knew just how much you love Abby and they knew you could do so much more for her if you had the chance. Second, no one is thinking that of you. Your past isn’t you and it’s definitely not your future. You’re better than that. You know you are. And you know you’ll be a great godmother.”

You poke at your food with the fork in your hand. “I just feel like - I don’t know if I agree with their choice to help me. I mean this is all just so unconventional.”

Robin snorts. “You’re talking to the ‘Queen of Unconventional', here. But Steve….he has his moments of vulnerability. Is he a fast talking womanizer who only thinks of getting his dick wet and rocking out sometimes? Yes, absolutely. But he’s still got a heart of gold. At least that’s what I remember from working with him at Family Video.”

“You know, I just can’t help but think this is Nancy’s last laugh. Like it’s her way of putting him and I together again. Even dead I can’t shake her damn matchmaking skills.”

“You’re putting too much faith into a dead woman’s last will. Whatever happened to seeing his brother? Or literally anyone else?”

“Trust me, out of all the people in the world, he’s the last person I’d even consider to repopulate the Earth. But I haven’t seen his brother since her last appointment. I’d imagine he probably would be coming to the funeral or something.”

Robin chokes on her food.

“Swallow, Robin. Also, I don’t need another friend to leave me behind too.” You remind her.

“I did - you just caught me off guard. Is that not like a hippo violation or something? Going to your patient’s mother’s funeral?”

“HIPAA - and I don’t know. Just seems like the respectful thing to do. It’s not like Steve will alert me if he comes either. He doesn’t seem like he likes him that much.”

“Oh yeah, they go way way back. You know, usual sibling rivalry stuff. But Steve never talks about it. I just get it all from looks and vibes. But you know, you should probably check that out.”

“I figured. I mean don’t get me wrong he’s cute and smart. But I’m not sure if I’m all that prepared or ready to go out there. Most guys don’t want to sit here with a baby and a co parent as a part of the deal.”

“And if they do? There’s got to be at least one man out there that doesn’t mind a baby already existing in the equation. Steve is easily removable. I’m just saying.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You conclude, just as Steve himself walks in. It profoundly startles both of you, sending you leaping back a foot and Robin shook as she slides off the island counter to smack him with the spoonful of food.

“What are you - a Prius?’ She wacks him once on the shoulder. “We need to put a bell on you or something.”

Steve chuckles heartily. “That defeats the purpose of the charm. The ladies can’t see me coming.”

“Or it could be a warning. Maybe they’ll thank us.” You interject, making eye contact with him long enough for the two of you to exchange silly childish looks.

He gives the food a glance and claps his hands together, “Alright, food! I’m starving.”

Both you and Robin place your arms dramatically over the food, “We made this! Go get your own food!”

Steve fights back and leans a fast hand under Robin’s armpit to tickle her which sends her jumping back, spilling hot sauce on her shirt, and away from the food. He immediately rips away a bowl of chicken and rice and rushes out the kitchen to eat in the living room.

“Robin!” You exclaim, rushing to your friend. Robin mimics a soldier who’s been hurt on the battlefield.

“How bad is it Doc?” She fake winces.

You run a hand up the hot sauce, ignoring that it looks like blood, and lick it clean from your finger. “We’re going to have to amputate.”

Robin remains in character as she whines and helps you lift her up. She grabs a fistful of napkins and cleans herself up, but not before offering some words of wisdom.

“Go get him back!”

As if on cue, you rush out of the kitchen and to the living room where Steve is beginning to sit and get comfortable as he flips through channels. Once he sets the bowl of food on the coffee table a few feet in front of him is when you attack. You lunge forward to grasp him from behind, pouncing and wrapping your arms and legs around his chest and waist. The sudden weight is enough to send both of you falling to the floor with an oomph! sound.

Steve gets the upper hand when he slides a hand into your shirt backwards and uses the same maneuver he did on Robin. It’s your greatest weakness and it makes you release him from your somewhat vice grip. Next thing you know, Steve’s in-between your legs hovering over you as he uses one hand to torture you and the other to hold your hands up above your head to stop you from recovering.

It happens so fast, it even takes Robin by surprise as she peers out from the kitchen and walks over. You’re both breathing hard on the floor, coming down from mutual attacks and staring at each other intently.

“Truce?” Steve asks huskily, his necklace dangling ever so slightly above your face. The cold silver guitar pick grazes your face as he repeats his question.

Suddenly aware of the change in position, you feel yourself go red. You’re now realizing your hot breath is on his face, which should’ve smelled like food, but he doesn’t seem deterred by it. In fact, your eyes are trained on him now, scouring over his soft features. The laughter lines, the faint yet many moles he has, the bridge of his nose, his over the top hair, it all comes into a soft focus like when you place a camera lens to fade everything out in the back.

His own eyes are studying you back. Taking in the way your chest rises heavily up and down as you try to regain your breathing to normal, the white v-neck shirt not doing much to hide it, the way your hair splayed out from underneath you to halo your face.

“Truce.” You breathe out, nodding quickly and splaying out your hands in surrender.

There’s a weird moment in between him getting up and off of you that Robin comments on later to Steve. One where the general animosity towards each other seems to take a backseat and Robin wonders if you’d both benefit from a hate fuck. But in the moment it doesn’t just feel like Steve is piercing your body with his eyes, but something in his eyes soften slightly. His face does actually, the same face you make when you forget something and suddenly remember and it was something you wanted to remember or find.

It’s a minute until you’re pulled up by him and settled on your feet. You both cough or do nervous tics that allow the other to excuse one other to get out of the situation. Robin keeps her laughter to herself as she watches you drag yourself back to the kitchen, teeth biting down on your bottom lip and eyes shut tight. She doesn’t need to use her infamous quips this time, you can already hear her.

You're passed out on the couch with your feet resting on Steve's lap as he sips on some can and finishes his bowl of stolen food. His encounter with you and Robin earlier didn't deter his appetite.

Robin sits lazily on the couch across from him, face in her knuckle as she tries not to fall asleep. Steve notices her nodding off and swings a foot over to her knee. Robin is startled momentarily before she smacks his foot away.

He sighs as he moves your legs aside and sits up.

"C'mon, time to go to bed. Go home. I got this." He says, confidently.

"No, you'll set the house on fire." Robin argues.

"Okay, it was one time and I was seven! I didn't know aluminum didn't go in the microwave."

Robin chuckles to herself and rolls her tired eyes. She stands up nonetheless. She rubs her tired eyes momentarily, glancing to you splayed out on the couch, clutching the multi color crochet blanket close to your face, soft snores erupting from you. Steve catches her glance and turns.

There had been less animosity towards each other since the car incident. While Steve still kept up appearances with you, he knew that this big change was definitely affecting his life in all aspects. His band, his love life, any freedom he thought he had.

As if she’s read his mind, Robin nudges him on the shoulder as she opens up the front door.

“How’s Monroe?”

Steve turns back to face Robin, remembering the mini fight he had with his on and off girlfriend when he had revealed his new parentage. He doesn’t know if she’s asking because she’s genuinely interested in knowing or if she’s trying to fill in the void of the late night.

He shrugs. “She doesn’t really see a kid being in the mix right now. I mean I get it. No one does. But it doesn’t matter. Us Harrington men don’t stay single for too long.”

There goes that smug face of his. His armor. Robin gives him a suspicious look, she always knew when he was being genuine or full of shit. Just a downside but also a perk of their very long friendship.

“Hmm,” she decides she’ll believe it this time. She turns her attention back to you. “Don’t forget to take her to bed.”

Before he can make a joke, Robin is steadfast ready with her correction. “Don’t.”

He gives a chuckle.

“Tuck her in, take her makeup off, be a gentleman for once.”

He places a hand on his chest, feigning being hurt by the comment. “Ouch Rob! You know I’m always a gentleman.”

She squints as she smirks. “Mhmm.”

She waves goodbye and Steve feels that feeling again as he closes the door. One where he feels alone even though you and Abby are within close proximity. He signs deeply as he reclines his back on the door.

He shuffles quietly to you, preparing himself to lift you as he snakes an arm under your knees and your back. With a small grunt he lifts and adjusts you, making sure you don’t hit your head on the banister or buster of the stairs. To his surprise, you don’t wake up amongst all the noise his heavier footsteps make up the stairs.

He kicks open the guest bedroom with his foot gently, getting it to open wide enough to shuffle clumsily into the room and let you roll off of him and onto the bed with a soft bounce.

Remembering Robin’s advice, he makes quick work of your borrowed house slippers and is careful to bring the covers laying on top of the ottoman at the foot of the bed to wrap around you. He tucks one side in under you, earning a small jump from your sleeping frame.

Ticklish, huh? Hm. He thinks to himself.

Steve finishes up carefully, stepping into the shared bathroom within the bedroom and ruffles through the contents of some of the drawers to find those makeup wipes he’d gotten so used to seeing overnight at his place.

Less is more. He knows by now.

Grabbing one or two wipes, he starts back to the room. He sits by your left side, careful to crane your head to face him and rub slowly and in circles for maximum effect. The cold touch of the wipes doesn’t wake you totally but you do shiver in response. He pauses for a moment, the pad of his right thumb feeling the soft yet wet skin. It’s so bare, so clean, so fresh.

He wonders if there’s something like this but for the soul. Something that allows him a fresh start. He can only guess it’s the situation he’s in now.

He finishes working on the other side of your face and dumps the wipes in the bin next to the bed, taking one last look at you. He shakes his head as he stands, ignoring whatever his mind or body are telling him, just as he was earlier when he had you pinned.

The good thing about the room you were staying in is that it was just across Abby’s own, making Steve’s late night patrol easier. He stares down at the old looking translucent doorknob, his hand hesitating just for a second. He knows that as soon as he walks in it’ll cement his status here with you. A parent. A father - no - stepfather. Just a replacement. A second choice. Always a second choice, it seemed.

Screw it.

The mobile’s lullaby is playing a rendition of a classic children’s song and the night light is illuminating the somewhat dark room in starry shapes when he walks in. He grips the doorknob until he feels ready to tread lightly towards the crib in front of him.

When two songs play and pass, he finally moves. Abby comes into closer view as he peers over her sleeping form. She’s splayed out like any normal sleeping baby, head turned to the right, chubby little arms and fingers above her head, little similarly chubby legs ever so often kicking at the blanket at her feet.

Steve reaches a hand in the crib and brings the blanket back up to her waist, the action so soft and yet so slow that it wakes Abby momentarily. Her little lashes blink up at him as she yawns and stares at him for a minute. Something tells Steve to reach out a finger, so he does. She stares at it as she brings up a tiny hand to grasp it. Steve lets out a soft incredulous laugh. Abby coos as she inspects his finger, somehow finding it amusing.

Steve feels a small smile tug at the corners of his lips. He wishes he could live in the feeling that he feels in the moment. To bottle it up and take it in small doses when reality becomes too much. When all he can feel is doubt and anxiety and stress.

The moment fades when Abby gets tired of his finger and her lids shut. She lets out a small shuddering yawn and goes back to dreamland, the lullaby from the mobile accompanying her on her journey. Steve decides to stay there, just in case she wakes up again. He pulls up the rocking chair next to the crib and sits, keeping an eye on the way she breathes.

He rocks gently back and forth until he feels his own eyelids start to fall, until he feels his head sulk to the side and sleep overtakes him.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve x reader #lawki #stranger things imagine

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