#and i think his position of power relative to the rest of the town could be helpful in influencing things if he like. believed in them more | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

alpydk · 23 days ago

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Friend of the Family (part 1)

Gale x Rugan - 2 part episode. You get this 10k now and in a few days, part 2.

Summary - Morena Dekarios is coming back to town after a year away. How will she take finding out her son is engaged to an ex Zhent?

Ao3 Link

He let out a deep sigh, the coffee bringing relief but not easing the quickening tension that was running under his skin. He would just ignore the letter that lay to the side, addressed to Gale in the cursive feminine hand. It had arrived with the rest of them, various details on the front of how it had been redirected from one location to another, the wax seal of a set of scales pressed to the back.

Rugan sipped the hot kaeth, giving a faint hiss as it burnt his tongue. The first cup of the day was always taken the same way, though. A slight singe was enough to get you going, is what he always believed. He flicked through the sheets of parchment next to him, the assortment of letters from the academy duller to read than the morning paper he’d already skimmed through twice. It was the normal events of the world, it seemed, some hero defeating evil, some evil rising in the ranks through the use of political power.

There was the briefest moment Rugan had believed it to have arrived from Tav. Eighteen months, not a long enough time for her to have moved on. Would she return to Gale’s life? Possibly apologise for what had happened between them before swooping him off his feet and whisking him away? It wasn’t worth thinking about, not after everything, after the disastrous first dates, after an undead horde almost took over the city.

Rugan closed his pale blue eyes, inhaling the sharp scent of the kaeth. Tav is gone. Gale loves you. You need to get a fucking job, mate. He hated how his own mind liked to turn on him to remind him of such details. The last eighteen months had been one failure after another, despite his best attempts. First had been simple bar work, but apparently flirting with the owner’s wife wasn’t suitable even if he hadn’t meant anything by it. Next came working at the Academy. Gale had been kind enough to get him a small position helping in the library, however once they had discovered an extensive selection of their books were destroyed because of his actions, they were quick to retract the offer. Lastly came something he wasn’t particularly proud of. He’d heard word of a job that needed doing for The Guild that paid well and figured why not? That was until Gale had found out, until the argument had started, until both had said their fair share of deeply cut insults. No matter the pay, a job like that was not worth the cost.

Again, he placed another piece of parchment aside. Maybe the next one would be good news, something saying he’d inherited an enormous fortune from an unknown and wealthy relative. It was another cursive inked letter, again with the same scales stamped onto the back, dates going back a year. He checked his surroundings, making sure the coast was clear before he lightly fingered the back of the envelope.

“Rugan, I don’t suppose you’ve seen my book on the intricacies of illusion magic, have you?”

The call from the library was not unheard, the letter being quickly flung with the others and the newspaper lifted, turned to a random page at speed. “No, poppet. Not seen it,” he answered as casually as he could, not making eye contact with Gale, who entered the room in a hurried state.

“I can’t believe you let me sleep in. On today of all days. I have the presentation, countless amounts of research to document.”

The minor rant continued as Gale lived up to his name and stormed around the kitchen in search of various items he needed: his bag, the book, kaeth. It was as his eyes fell on the two discarded letters that his movements stopped.

Rugan still avoided looking up. “Oh yeah, they came for you this morning.”

The first letter was quickly opened, deep brown eyes scanning the parchment. “Oh no…”

That was not an expected reaction, Gale’s shoulders tensing, his jaw tightening as he muttered slowly under his breath. “…Calimshan…lovely time…trinkets…”

Now Rugan was curious, the paper being lowered. Could it be Tav? Did he dare ask directly? “Bad news?”

“The worst,” Gale replied, slouching into a hard wooden chair at the table. “It’s from my mother.”

There was a sigh of relief, chased by a cough. “Your mum? Well, that’s good news, ain’t it?”

How could Gale explain he hadn’t seen his mother in quite a while, not since she had ventured off to see the world soon after her son had almost died? Life was too short, she’d explained, her bags packed, Tara taken as company. He’d wished her well and been happy for the odd letter from her. He certainly had not expected the news she had brought to him today. “She’s returning to Waterdeep.”

“Oh. You not happy with that? You’re always saying good stuff about her.”

“I am happy. You need not concern yourself with that. It is simply…unexpected, that’s all.”

“When does she arrive?”

Gale picked up the second letter, noticing the dates scattered around his neatly handwritten address. He opened it, skimming the page for the information he needed. “…Plenty of sun… future bride…” He choked on his words. His mother was trying to hook him up whilst she was away. Composing himself, he continued to read. “…Sand… Elient…” The date caused him to pause, a realisation of how long it had taken for the mail to reach them stirring up the sensation of a deep pit within his stomach.

Rugan reached over, taking the letter. “20. Elient… Fuck… That’s tomorrow.” He could already feel the tension rising in the air, see the way Gale kept his eyes pinned forward as if focused on a difficult conundrum. “Gale? You okay there?”

“I… Well, this is not the best of circumstances to find oneself in. My mother is an interesting woman, formidable perhaps, but an unexpected visit from her is not exactly ideal. I must prepare for her arrival.”

“And your work? What about the presentation and, you know, that important research?”

The question was batted away. Those things could wait. For now, a suitable meal, the guestroom, conversational topics, her favourite tea, as well as other much more challenging details needed to be arranged if she was to be kept happy.

“Gale? You’re not filling me with confidence here. What’s going on?”

“Nothing, nothing at all. I merely need to invest some time and effort into the tower. Do excuse me.”

Watching Gale leave, as if in a daze, did not help in easing Rugan’s concerns. Often had they spoken of their families, or at least Gale had at length, especially of the strength of will his mother held, but not once had it come with this sort of reaction. Rugan followed quietly, seeing how the bedsheets in the guest room were tossed aside in desperation. “Talk to me, poppet.”

Gale sighed. What was there to talk about? His mother was coming to visit, that was all. A big joyous family reunion where they would eat tiramisu together, drink kaeth, and she would tell many a story of her travels around Faerûn. What was there to be worried about, except the hollyphant that leant up against the doorframe, gazing at him with worry and love?

Perching himself on the end of the bed, Gale let the resignation take over his body. The weathered hand slipped into his own was welcome as he searched for the words to explain.

“I know it’s important. You’ve barely said more than two sentences to me. You that likes to lecture…” Rugan uttered, setting himself down on the mattress.

A dry chuckle was released, Gale finding truth in the words. “My mother, as you know, is a power in her own right, decisive, strong-willed. She is also the one whom raised me to be the man you see before you. You may have noticed, but rarely do I speak of my father.”

It wasn’t something difficult to see. Rugan had done the same, after all, but like with his own past, he knew certain topics were avoided for a reason. They were only shared when they were meant to be shared.

“My father left when I was young,” Gale continued slowly, his eyes drawn to the state of the cotton bedsheets now lying on the floor. “Eight years old and already too much of a handful, as I’m sure you’ll recognise even now. But it was not such an unpleasant experience. Life became far better without his involvement; however, it has left me with the rather troubling issue of feeling as if I owe my mother in some way.”

“Owe her? But she’s your mum.”

“Hm. Not owe so much then, but to make it up to her for all I’ve put her through, with my magic as a child, the Academy, Mystra…” Gale paused, letting the weight of his words settle. “She has cared for me far more than any other person in this world. Well, almost…” He lifted his head, a soft smile on his lips as he longed to place a kiss on the ones before him.

“So, you’re stressing because you’re thinking it’s going to be another let down? Gale, acclaimed professor at Blackstaff Academy, Hero of Baldur’s Gate, best arse in whole of Waterdeep?”

He couldn’t help but smile even as the doubts lay in his mind. “Ru… I wish it were that simple, but I’m afraid there is one minor detail…”

Rugan was glad to see the smile, the slight flush of the cheeks. “My arse is better? You can just tell me it is, you know.”

“Oh, how I wish it were something as pleasurable as that. No. It is, however, something that involves you. You see, my mother…” Gale held off on saying the rest. How could it be explained after all this time, when they had a wedding being organised, after all the months of living under the same roof? “She isn’t really aware of you, well, being a part of my life.”

“Ah…”

It was a lot to take in. After everything they had been through, Rugan somewhat believed that it was common knowledge of their relationship. They’d never shied away from displays of affection in public: the intimidate kiss in the marketplace once when Gale had smudged a little chocolate on his lip, their bodies finding one another in the darkened corner of The Yawning Portal. How could Morena Dekarios not have known?

Rugan sifted through the many questions that lay on his tongue, trying to find the right one that showed the elements of curiosity but also slight disappointment he was feeling. “I… When exactly did she leave Waterdeep?”

“Well, I do believe it was maybe two tenday before you attempted to pilfer from our home.”

“Hm… And you’ve not spoken with her at all since she left?”

“Oh. Well…” There was a deliberation of how to continue, Gale’s hands raising up as if trying to conjure the words using his magical touch. “It may have slipped my mind…” The raised eyebrow only added to the earlier pitted sensation.

“Slipped your-”

“Now, now, don’t be upset. Sending messages are limited in length. I can’t be expected to instil all details of our relationship into twenty-five words.”

Gritting his teeth was proving to be the only line of defence, stopping Rugan from beginning his interrogation. He wasn’t sure which was the worse feeling from the situation: the anger that stirred deep in his heart at having been an easily forgotten remnant of Gale’s life or, for the same reason, the understanding stirring in his head.

Rugan could only withdraw his hands trying to piece together anything that wouldn’t cause an argument. “Gale… Do I embarrass you or something?”

The extended silence was all he needed as an answer, as an icy chill blew through the window, as his doubts became truth.

“My love, it’s nothing like that. My mother, she is simply difficult to please and you-”

Before Gale could finish, his words were cut off, a built-up wave of self-doubt pouring from thin pale lips.

“Are what? Not good enough for her? Are not good enough for you? I thought we were past all this.” Emotions were pulled back, walls put up in place. They may have grown close, but this was not the time for displaying weakness; it was time for Rugan to return to his roots and stand his ground. “Send her a message right now. Tell her she’ll be meeting me as well.”

Gale dithered over his words, the tensions running high. He wasn’t ready to tell his mother about the relationship. It was not embarrassment of his partner, nor his partner’s shadowed past; it was simply a ridiculous notion that his mother had always paired him up with women. How would she react to see someone like Rugan in her son’s life? Would she accept it, or would it just be another let down? “Well, it’s not quite that simple.”

“Oh? Suddenly the twenty-five words are too much for you, for he with the practised tongue?” came a hissed reply, far pettier than either of them wished to hear, but the hurt was already there. It was better to be angry than for Rugan to admit he was hurt.

Letting out an annoyed sigh, Gale stood from the bed, leaving the sheets abandoned on the floor as he paced out of the room. “Now you’re being purposely obtuse. Look, I will go to work as initially planned and I will send something whilst I’m there.”

“Oh yeah? And whatever happened to sorting the guest room, preparing for her majesty’s visit?” Rugan called, following behind. Would he seriously be left to stew over this all day, to question everything? Hells, he’d nearly died for Gale over six months ago, and now they were arguing over the soon to be mother-in-law. It wasn’t worth it.

“Rugan. I do not appreciate that tone, especially with regard to my mother. I apologise for having not informed her sooner, but it has simply not been of importance.”

“Not been of… You’ve got to be shitting me.”

Grabbing his bag and quickly descending the stairs of the tower, Gale wanted out of there, especially before he dug any more of his own grave. He could hear Rugan shouting after him, hear the voice of his mother in his head criticising all his life choices. He’d bury his head in research and then, should time permit, sort everything else for her visit.

“Gale,” shouted Rugan, watching the shadow vanish down the stone steps. “No, I’m not done. You can’t just…” He took a deep breath, knowing he’d handled it badly. Rather than trying to work out why he’d been a second thought, he’d instead started attacking as per usual. Another fuckup in a long line of fuckups. “Bollocks.”

---

Morena Dekarios had spent over a year travelling around the region of Calimshan, her aged skin now a glowing bronze, her dresses now luxurious silks she had procured from various street merchants. Six months ago, she had overheard the odd accent in the background of one of her son’s sending spells, a male voice she did not recognise cutting in between a spoken sentence. Prick is not a term she’d often heard amongst the more well to do of the families in Waterdeep and she wondered what type of trouble Gale had managed to get into whilst she was away. She had written, of course, informing him of her return, but not once in the sending spells had he mentioned getting the letters.

She stood in her small shop on Waterdeep Way, wiping off the cobwebs from the old antiques she’d collected and signalling where the crates she’d brought over were to go. Tara watched her from a high-up shelf, a tale flicking impatiently.

“Now Tara, be a dear and go find my son, will you? I’m sure all the sand has cleared from your feathers by now.”

With a stretch, Tara pounced onto the shop’s countertop, trying to resist knocking a glass jar that stood before her. “Mrs Dekarios, we have only but arrived in Waterdeep and a day sooner than expected. Surely, he doesn’t need checking up on just yet.”

“Not checking up on, merely being a dutiful mother,” came a playful reply as a sheet was thrown aside, revealing a cupboard full of various nicknacks.

“Hm… Appears to be much the same to me.”

“Shh. Fine.” Morena let out a cough as the dust reached her lungs. It would take more than a few sheets moved to have the store back in a good enough condition for customers again. “If you won’t check-up then maybe we should take a peruse of the markets, possibly stop for a tipple.”

A purr signified this was a much better idea, Tara stretching out her wings before hopping down onto the floor, and yet she knew it was not a simple trip out that Morena wished for. “The cafe near the academy, by any chance?”

“The very same.”

---

For the first hour, Rugan had paced the tower, reading the letters multiple times, mumbling to himself about the state of the guest room before changing all the sheets himself. He’d gone over the argument multiple times in his head. What he could have, should have said to change the outcome. Letting out a sigh, he glanced at the door. There was the option of his continued pacing, getting drunk ready for round two, or, for once, maybe he could make the right choice. He could fix things. He could buy tiramisu from the cafe they both liked, maybe some flowers for the guest room. Maybe he could even just pretend to be someone else for a day or two.

“Well, greetings Mrs Dekarios,” he attempted to say out loud in a faux impersonation of the elites he’d briefly met over his years, the enunciation of the vowels completely foreign to him. I sound like a right twat. Still, he continued, adding a strut to his impersonation. “That’s right, I’m your son’s fiancé… Oh, has he not informed you of our relationship? He has a rather splendid cock, if I do say so myself.” Gods, kill me.

Tiramisu would have to do. If Morena’s first image of Rugan was that he was the hired help, then so be it. They could always hide the relationship from her entirely, possibly move to a remote location on the other side of Toril to escape if needed.

Leaving the tower, he headed in the direction of the academy, the warm sunshine welcome for his mood. Midwinter was growing closer, sprinklings of snow happening on the colder days, and the evenings were drawing in, much to Rugan’s enjoyment. Gale and he would lie next to the fire together, the flames reflecting in the silver glint of Gale’s earring. Rugan would watch it shine as if pulled into a trance by the sapphire. Bloody wizard has cast a spell on me…

The small café was relatively quiet that afternoon, the tables outside empty due to the icy breeze. Only a few people sat indoors, watching the world go by as they peered over mugs and sugary desserts. At the front of the queue stood an older woman, her hand waving in random directions as she spoke to the clerk. A loose silk sleeve swayed around her wrist, the purples catching Rugan’s eye as they contrasted with the white shelves and pale icings before them. Her voice seemed to cut through the surroundings, the higher-class tones and focus on pronouncing each t displaying exactly the type of person she was.

Rugan bit his tongue. She wouldn’t be long. She would get her order and then she would be on her way. So much inane drivel she spouts.

“You’re lucky ma’am. This is the last tiramisu we have of the day,” the clerk spoke, handing over a delicate white box.

Shit. Rugan could feel his legs moving forward before she’d even had a chance to reply. The thought of losing this one opportunity to impress slipping through his fingertips. Pushing past her was met with an insulted shriek, but he refused to make eye-contact with her. Maybe if he ignored her, she would just leave, and the dessert would be his. The firm grip on his arm had not been expected.

Her voice was sharp and Rugan could only wish that the world would swallow him whole. It had been years since he’d been chastised in the way he was now, a pointed nail pressed firmly into his shirt, the deep brown eyes boring into his own. Who in the hells is this woman to think she can act this way?

“What sort of man believes he can push past like that? You are lucky that I am in a favourable mood today or else I might just call the guard!”

“Call them, see how I care.”

Rugan wasn’t thinking, the tiramisu forgotten, attempts at being prim and proper moving to the back burner with the contemptuous bitch that stood before him.

She took in an intake of breath, clearly not used to anyone talking back to her. The jabbing of her finger became more directed, an unusual strength behind it that made Rugan back up despite not wanting to. “My boy, you need to learn your place. Do you have any idea of whom you are speaking to?”

He didn’t care at this point, as his mild irritation merged with the buried anger of the morning. The clerk had seemingly vanished into the back room. The other customers of the café kept their heads down so as not to be dragged into the spectacle. “Honestly, love. Couldn’t give a rat’s arse who you are. All I know is that your voice is giving me a headache, and the sight of your clothing offends my eyes.” He reached a hand over to the box, pulling it closer to himself. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got places to be.”

The sound of shouting behind him brought a creased smirk to his face, a satisfaction that for the first time in ages he had stood his ground and got his way. He didn’t notice the tressym that emerged from under a table behind him, the way it held back the fireball for the protection of the others in the vicinity. Rugan, for once, felt like himself.

“I just don’t believe how someone of that type can even be allowed into an establishment like this. Did you see what he was wearing? Dressed like some common vagrant! Most likely a pickpocket of sorts.”

---

“Mrs Dekarios, he may have been all the various terms you have called him, but bothering the guard over a tiramisu is a waste of the city’s resources. Would it not be better to go back to the shop, or even have another parfait instead of continuing to speak of him?” Tara was growing bored with the conversation, how Morena had spent the last hour angrily sipping at her tea, glaring at the doorway to the café as if it might bring the pale-eyed stranger back for round two.

“Calimshan has clearly made you paranoid.”

Morena savoured the tea as it hit her tongue, the scent of honey making her shoulders relax. Tara was right as per usual. The man who had accosted her was not worth exerting so much energy over. Placing the cup down on the table, she let out a long-held sigh. “I just did not expect my first day back in Waterdeep to go as it has, is all. A year away and not even recognisable to the folk who live here. It’s rather upsetting.”

“Give it time,” Tara purred from the warm cushion she had curled herself up on. “Once the shop is up and running, the name Morena Dekarios will be known within these city walls once again.”

“And he will most certainly be barred.”

“I’ll set up the wards to keep him out myself.”

---

Presentations had come and gone; research had been arranged for the upcoming days, sorted by topic, importance, due dates, and Gale’s willingness to even look at the subjects. Though the revelation of his mother’s return still lingered in his mind, work had managed to provide the distraction it always did. The hours had passed, and it had only been during his lunch break that he had considered sending her the quick spell to say he’d got the letters and that she would be meeting Rugan with her visit. Despite this, the words wouldn’t come to him. Twenty-five or less to prepare her for the life-changing news? It couldn’t be done.

You will be meeting my boyfriend. No, far too immature. Partner? Rather distant… Fiancé? But that means explaining the entire situation. Mother, this is Rugan? No, he’s not just a friend. Gale was going through the various scenarios in his head, each one becoming more outlandish. His lips moved as he mouthed his part of the imaginary discussion, seeing his mother’s confused face before him. No Mother, not like the vampire? More intimate. Like Tav? Well, you see Tav… It wasuseless. His love life was something that needed to be discussed directly and not through limited messages where meanings could be confused. With any luck, she would simply see them together and understand everything without the need for conversation.

The return home was slower than usual, tension in his shoulders at what he needed to prepare once at the tower. There would be the bedsheets he had abandoned during his impromptu escape, flowers required, an assortment of meals, wine. The considerable amount of wine. He only hoped that Rugan hadn’t spent the hours drinking as had happened with previous arguments.

Gale slipped through the large oak door, listening for the sound of footsteps on the floor above, only to be met with silence. He crept up the stone steps, his long shadow before him giving away his presence. It was as he reached the upper floor that the dulcet tones of the piano drifted through the air and he caught the aroma of a pot simmering away in the kitchen. Candles had been lit and various bouquets of flowers had been strategically placed around the room, all in various shades of blue. Had something happened whilst he was away? The surprise visit of his mother? Possibly Tara had let her in, and they had prepared this for him whilst he was at the academy. But then what of Rugan? Would he drunkenly appear back from a bar when his coin purse had run dry?

The answer came in the form of blonde hair neatly tied back in a loose ponytail, the scent of cologne on freshly shaven skin. The usual scruffy shirt that Gale had grown used to had been replaced by one of deep green with a silver embroidered trim.

“Mr Dekarios…Gale, welcome home,” spoke Rugan, his back straightened and heart pounding at the thoughts of what response he would get. “Dinner is almost ready, and I have prepared the guest room for your mother.”

Stuttering over his words, Gale approached, the sight before him one he had only ever dreamt of. Rugan was almost like a different person: sober, the effort made, a solution to all the problems that would come in the morning. With the yearning within him at the sight, Gale knew words were not needed with the actions he wanted to take. The shirt could be removed with a mage hand whilst his own threaded through the locks. Cologne would cloud with musk, merging with the scent of fresh bedsheets.

“I hope my attire is of a satisfactory-”

A breath caught as lips met, Rugan taken aback by the sudden forcefulness that had come at him. This had not been the expected outcome, but he was not going to fight it. He backed up, his hands sliding under heavy robes and pushing them aside. “Far too many layers,” he grumbled, his fingertips finding cotton and not desired flesh. Was he to keep up the act of the prim and proper fiancé, or resort back to the rough-and-ready lover that consumed so easily?

The whisper of a spell, delicate weave-touched hands lacing between strands of pale hair. Gale didn’t know what was coming over him, the feeling of his tongue tracing up the side of Rugan’s neck, the heat building between them. “Bedroom,” was all he could mumble as he pressed his body forward, feeling the strain of holding back take over him.

Navy sheets creased under the weight as they fell upon the bed, desperate hands grasping at heated bodies. Blonde hair splayed out, loosened from the bindings that had held it, one of Gale’s hands weaving through it, the other frantically pulling at the drawstrings of Rugan’s trousers.

As a warm palm found what it sought, Rugan released a gasp. “Never seen you like this before.”

“You’ve never prepared dinner before,” came a hastened reply as Gale trailed kisses down the slightly softened abdomen before him. The mage hand had done its job, leaving the green shirt in the doorway, but now he wanted more, to see how long it would take for Rugan to return to his crude and primitive ways. With the deep moan that came from the shift of Gale’s palm, he knew it would not be long.

“Mr Dekarios!” came the piercing screech from the balcony. Tara stood, wings spread and back arched in the open doorway, her feathers bristled, and ears tucked back. Which shocked her most - the sight of Rugan, red faced and muttering obscenities, or Gale’s hand caressing a very clear bulge under leather - she did not know.

Gale was the first to react, whipping his hand from the trousers and spinning to not only face her but shield Rugan from view. “Tara,” he called out, the rising lilt of his voice slightly more shaken than he would’ve liked. “I wasn’t expecting you. Me and Rugan were just…” He glanced back, the steady rise and fall of the chest he’d just had his lips upon beckoning him once again.

“Do not think me a fool, Mr Dekarios. I know exactly the activities you were partaking in, but you can tell your hussy to leave. I’m in no mood for rutting nor excuses.”

Coming to his senses, Rugan sat up, his hand instinctively hugging around the scarring that lay across his stomach. “Did the cat just call me a hussy?”

As candlelight hit his features, the revelation hit Tara. She knew the one that lay beside her friend, the blonde hair and pale blue eyes. “Wait! You’re the scoundrel from the café!”

Gale looked between the two, his heart rate steadying as the shock wore off. “Café? Tara, what in the world is going on?”

Claws were drawn ready to attack, the thoughts of the fireball lying at the forefront of her mind as she watched Rugan move to the edge of the bed.

“Gale, what’s with the cat?”

“She’s not a cat; she’s a Tressym.”

“Flying cat then. Never seen much of a different between pussies myself…”

Tara hissed at the disgusting remark. How could Gale be in bed with such a loathsome excuse of a man? “Revolting. Have him leave this instant,” she commanded, her dark eyes glowing with the embers of the charging spell.

Gale was quick to stand, thankful that his own clothes had remained mostly untouched. “Now Tara, calm down. Rugan was simply-”

“Leaving, quite right,” she finished.

Rugan rolled his eyes, the idea that a cat would make demands of him almost as ridiculous as Friol once trying to do so. “Look. Tara, was it? Hate to tell you, but I’m here to stay. Now, you were sort of interrupting something. So, want to go and catch some mice or pigeons or whatever it is you things do?”

“You things?” Tara was already annoyed enough by the events in the café, but this was the final straw. Without warning, she unleashed the held spell, the fire licking from her paws as it flew forward. She felt the heat of the flames, the power behind the blast. Gale could easily withstand this, but with any luck, his foul tongued consort would turn to cinders.

“Impero tibi,” shouted Gale with the flick of his wrist, the spell fizzling out before any damage could be done. If this was the meeting between his friend and fiancé, then what chance would there be that any survived when his mother entered the fray? He stared down at Tara, his body a barrier, his brow creased in frustration at the participants and their immaturity.

“Mr Dekarios, I apologise. I don’t know what came over me.”

“Clearly,” he responded through gritted teeth. “Tara, I know not of the previous interactions you have had with my…” Gale took a breath, attempting to regain some composure. “Either way, to carry on in such a manner is simply inexcusable. You will cease your nonsensical display and act civil. Do I make myself clear?” He turned, gesturing to Rugan. “That goes for both of you.”

Both Rugan and Tara lowered their head, the scolding from Gale well deserved. Apologies were muttered, with Rugan nervously rising from the bed and going in search of his shirt.

“Think I left the hob on…”

Hissing, back arched as he crept past, Tara did not hide her distaste, but at least she had the privacy she’d wanted.

Gale slumped back on the edge of the bed, running a tired hand back through his dark hair. “Tara…” he sighed as irritation seeped out of him. One moment of lust gone, problems coming far sooner than expected. He just needed a moment to strategize.

“He insulted your mother earlier. It’s lucky you were here.”

“My mother?”

“Hm,” Tara hummed, hopping up onto the bed and kneading the sheets with her paws. “Said her clothes offended him. Stole the tiramisu we had bought.”

Wanting to argue was his first instinct, but unfortunately, it sounded like a probable scenario for Rugan to get caught in. Morena was also not known for her abilities to be subtle and so it was of no surprise they had ended up in a battle of words. “And where exactly is she now? At the shop, I presume, anticipating I’ll come by with a bottle of Waterdhavian Fields Finest?”

Tara settled on the bed beside him, relishing in the feeling of the warm sheets around her. The scent of Rugan may have been embedded in them, but she found it wasn’t the worst of smells to be close to. In some ways, it reminded her of wood laden campfires. “You mother is currently dealing with the Zhentarim,” she mentioned offhandedly.

Gale nodded, the comment not really anything of relevance as he heard Rugan potter around the kitchen. The odd swear word could be heard as items had been misplaced, or the bitter smell of something burnt was released from the pan. I guess he really did leave the hob on. Pity, I’m sure it would have been a fine-

Lightning struck Gale’s mind, the words finally hitting home.“Zhentarim?” Gale questioned suddenly. “Tara, did I hear you correctly? My mother is with the Zhentarim?”

Tara stretched upon the sheets, her tail extending out behind her with a brief flick. “Oh, do not worry. They were trying to steal something from the shop, and you know how she is. She refused to let it go, didn’t she.”

“She refused?” Each remark was becoming even more outlandish. “Are you trying to inform me that my mother, the formidable Mrs Dekarios, has gone after the thieves?”

“Something like that, yes.”

Was it frustration or fear that stirred under his skin, the idea that his mother was in danger rushing over him? Tara did not seem worried, but then she had no idea of the goings on in the city for the last eighteen months. All he could do was hope that the dwindling numbers of the mercenaries had remained that way, and that his mother would remain quiet, at least in terms of shouting around his name. The chance of the latter, though, was almost zero. “Oh, for the love of…” he exhaled, lifting himself from the bed and quickly leaving for the kitchen.

“Piece of…” Rugan scowled as the lid of the pan released steam towards him.

“Ru…”

The voice behind him caused him to falter, the pan lid dropping once again as the oven mitt did little to help aside from making his grip sloppy. “What?” he snapped impatiently before pulling back his words, trying to go back to the helpful and polite mask he had held so well at the start of the evening. “I mean… yes, Gale.”

“I hate to request this of you. But I am in need of your help.”

There was a tremor behind Gale’s voice, an uncertainty. Rugan was reminded of their first kiss, of batted hands and denied feelings in a dimly lit classroom. “What can I do for you?” He tried his best to keep up the act, sliding off the oven mitt, straightening the now ruffled shirt, but that tremor was too much to ignore.

“I’ll have you know for the last thirty-five years I have served the people of this city and not once has a pathetic minion of your establishment been so stupid as to try to steal from my store.”

They have my mother. Those four words were all it took for Rugan’s act to drop, for the cooking to be abandoned and the crossbow to be armed at his side. The cat may have tried to kill him, the mother may have tried to publicly humiliate him, but for Gale, Rugan would take on Pereghost if it meant not having to witness sadness in the chocolate brown eyes he’d come to love.

“Friol, I’m sorry, she just-”

“And to think, I then have to come all this way to your sickening excuse of a hideout to collect my goods back because your boys were too scared to face me.”

“I tried to have her-”

“Do you mind with your interruptions?! I’m trying to talk!”

Dekarios. Another one Friol had found herself having the misfortune of dealing with. As if the run-ins with Gale hadn’t been bad enough over the last eighteen months, a warehouse destroyed, her forces wiped out by the undead, but she was now faced with the wizard’s own mother. Over an hour the complaining had gone on for, first starting in the main bar, the owner demanded, before eventually being moved into a back room.

“And I am still yet to see any of my goods!” Morena continued, little fear at the mercenaries that avoided her pointed gaze.

Friol watched as Darnys gave up her own apologies and vanished back to the bar, a hint of relief in her light steps. They would all unfortunately be here for some time, hearing the squawking and belittlement. Hand the items over? Kill a Dekarios? A much more satisfying experience.

“Do you not have anything to say for yourself? I come all this way across town, and I’m yet to even be offered a small drink by way of an apology.”

A drink does sound good about now. Friol lifted an arm, vaguely gesturing to a couple of chairs set by a small wooden table. “Whiskey?”

Morena watched as the gnome moved, suspicious of the sudden offering. “Just the one.”

---

Rugan listened to the explanation from both Tara and Gale, of how Morena had found members of the Zhentarim in her shop, antiques manhandled and stuffed into a large sack. From there she had screamed for the guard only to then have given chase, dress billowing behind her throughout the streets. She’d been a force to reckon with inside the confines of the cafe, but to go after known armed mercenaries; she couldn’t have been that stupid, could she?

Following the pair down a darkened back alley, Rugan finally spoke up. “So, what you’re saying isn’t so much that the Zhents have taken the silly bint, but more she’s picked a fight?”

“Rugan,” snapped Gale.

“Sorry… But honestly, you’ve got to be joking.”

Tara interjected. “Not particularly bright is he, Mr Dekarios?”

“You’re not exactly being helpful, Tara,” came the retort as Gale turned a corner, spotting in the distance the tavern Friol had used as a base of operations so many months ago.

The party grew quiet, trying to decide on the next steps. In the past, it would have been easy to just walk through the front door, but by the look of the half-orc guarding the place and the patrons who were suspiciously well equipped for battle, they knew that would not be the best plan of attack.

Gale was the first to speak up, directing Tara to take an aerial approach to scout for any sign of his mother. “Rugan and I will follow on foot and possibly gain access via a side window.”

“Nah, mate. There’s an easier way.”

Both Gale and Tara were confused that Rugan would have a strategically better plan thought out, but the confidence in how he spoke was undeniable.

“We’re listening,” came an impatient reply as Tara licked her paw, flicking it over a pointed ear.

Rugan felt very much on the spot as the two stared in his direction, each curious as to what his idea was. It wasn’t so much a formulated scheme as it was more one of the stupider bluffs that had worked in the past. “Well, we sort of just walk in.”

The circling fingers on the temples were noticeable, the flick of the tressym’s tale unmistakable as a response without words.

“Now don’t get me wrong, Gale. I know how it sounds. But there’s a whole new batch of recruits in there. We just go up, mumble a password or two and they’ll let us right in.”

Rubbing at tired eyes, Gale was unsure if his worry for his mother was clouding his judgement or not. “Are you seriously suggesting that we impersonate members of the Zhentarim in order to infiltrate their ranks and rescue my mother?”

Hearing it worded as a legitimate ploy gave Rugan a sense of pride. This wasn’t some last-ditch attempt, plans B through Z failed; it was a thought-out move, a tactic. “In not so many words, yeah. You can disguise yourself, right?”

“Of course. That wouldn’t take much skill at all.”

“Yeah, you’d be surprised.” Rugan had seen the disguises before: men trying to be taller than they were just to get caught out as something flew through their illusionary heads, women appearing masculine until they opened their mouths and spoke. “Show me.”

“Omnia mutantur.” In the blink of an eye, Gale had altered his form, his hair becoming shorter and flitting over his eyebrows. Darkened eyes had become a shade of green, and heavy robes had become a solid leather armour over his trim figure.

To Rugan, though, something was still off. Maybe he just knew too well of what to look for to see it was Gale: the tense broad shoulders, the hand that seemed to never stay still. Test time. “Gale, if we come across a nice lass in there, what would you do?”

“An odd question, given the circumstances…”

“Humour me.”

“Well, I suppose first would be to greet the woman before me, possibly give a shake of her hand if she is of the persuasion-”

“You ask if she’s free a quickie.”

Gale choked on his words before he could get them out, the thought of speaking with someone, let alone someone of the opposite sex in that manner completely foreign to him. “I beg your pardon.”

Rugan stepped forward, his firm hands placed on Gale’s shoulders. “You need to slouch. Pull the stick from your arse.”

“Ru-”

“Nah, enough of that. You want to get your mum out of there safely? You need to stop being yourself for once.”

The words hurt. After a long time of learning to accept himself, Gale now found it difficult to be told otherwise from someone he loved. “Surely there must be a more appropriate form of mannerisms within the organisation.”

“Not at grunt level.” Rugan kept his hands on Gale, rubbing softly in a hope of bringing some relaxation to the muscles before him. “Think of it like acting, your stories and that.”

“Talvadar.”

“Yeah, him…” Glancing over at Tara, Rugan pulled Gale aside, an arm wrapped around his shoulder. The words spoken between them were hushed so as she would not hear them. “Poppet, trust me. I know this is tough, trying to be something you’re not, but if anyone can pull it off, it’s you.”

“Sometimes I believe you have instilled far too much faith in these damaged hands.”

“Only as much as you’ve put in mine.” Rugan placed a soft kiss to Gale’s forehead, looking into green eyes he did not recognise but seeing the love deep beneath them. “Think you could just say an insult for me?”

Gale let out a dry chuckle, a little relieved that he was reminded this was all just a temporary request. He thought over insults made by Astarion, words used by Karlach, even some of own curses that he’d uttered under his breath when first edition books had been taken from his grasp. “Well, possibly… you’re impertinent.”

A long-drawn-out sigh was released, spelling out that impertinent was not quite the answer sought.

“You require something a little more obtuse, I suppose?”

“Something with less than four syllables for a start. Call me a wanker.”

Gale turned the word over in his mouth. Years of manners and etiquette being pushed down to spoil his tongue with such terminology. He kept the thought of saving his mother in his mind, knowing they had spent far too long dawdling about as it was. Quietly, he uttered the word, hoping to avoid Tara’s keen hearing. “Wanker…”

“Sorry mate, didn’t hear that. You say something?”

“Please don’t make me say it again.”

“You starting something?” Rugan pushed, hoping some instinct would result in Gale showing another side, possibly the one seen behind closed doors earlier that evening.

“Wanker,” came a muffled response, a leather boot shuffling on stone cobbles.

You’re taking the piss now. “Right, bollocks to your idiotic mum. The cat can figure it out itself.”

With the dismissal and insult, Gale finally spoke up, all the pent-up resentment, the years of letting people walk over him breaking through. “You absolute wanker.”

Rugan smirked at the reaction. There was a bit too much enunciation on the vowels, but it was a good start. “Stick out of arse,” he taunted.

“Fuck off with your stick,” Gale sneered, pacing towards the tavern.

Tara could only spring into action, taking to the skies as she watched Gale advance with a laughing Rugan behind him. Such a poor influence on the boy.

---

Laughter rang out in the back room of The Sleeping Snake tavern, the whiskey bottle mostly empty between the two women. What had started as a tense exchange of words had become a lot lighter with the revelation of who exactly Morena Dekarios was and her history with the Zhentarim in Waterdeep. It seemed in some way she was a supplier of goods, all through legitimate means, an official paper trail and a rumoured relationship with one of the higher ups in Neverwinter. Everything was above board and for the last three decades, she had been running her store within the city, until a year ago when she had left to travel.

With the changing of Friol’s recruits so often, it was not surprising that some had seen an empty antique store as a good place to loot, leaving her with the task of apologising and hoping business connections could remain intact. The whiskey had been the right choice, leaving them both loose tongued but merry.

“And would you believe my own son didn’t even write to me during my time away?”

“Gale? Well, that’s really no surprise now that he and Rugan are a thing.” She practically spat the latter name, the mention of him leaving an off taste in her mouth.

“Rugan?” Morena’s interest was piqued, her cheeks flush from the alcohol and stuffy backroom she’d found herself drinking in. The few items from her shop had been placed by her side some time ago, but the gossip of Waterdeep had been enough to keep her seated. “You mean to tell me my son is in a relationship?”

A glass was knocked back, the warm liquid a relief. “Yep, a year or so now. Not that Rugan is worth talking about. Blonde streak of piss he is.”

“You know him well then, I take it?”

“Unfortunately. Used to be a colleague of sorts. Got too old for the business or something.”

Whether it was the whiskey or the exhaustion from her travels, she did not know, but Morena wasn’t so much interested in Rugan’s past as she was in his present situation. “So, he has a business…?”

Friol scoffed. “Useless prick didn’t even have his own home until he holed up with your son.”

“But he at least has steady employment, correct?”

“Got sacked from The Ship’s Wheel last I heard.”

Morena couldn’t help but worry for her son, that his kind nature had been taken advantage of by an older scoundrel. “Tell me he at least cares for my boy.”

“Would Gale keep him around if he didn’t?”

“Gale has kept around far worse things for longer,” came the bitter reply, the memories of Mystra’s will wrapped around him, causing Morena to pour herself another drink.

Friol sighed. It would be so easy to omit truths and say that the pair constantly argued, brought the worst out in each other, and wreaked havoc on the city, but she couldn’t find it in herself to do so. “Rugan is a complete bastard, through and through,” she replied, “but he’s a bastard with a heart. He’s rough around the edges, ill mannered, and not particularly skilled in anything but drinking, but he’s honest.”

“Well, sometimes that’s the only thing one can ask for.”

---

“Nah, you tosser. You’re going to let me and my associate- friend in or else I’m going singe your eyebrows off. How’s that sound?”

Rugan peered over Gale’s shoulder with a head raise at the confused half orc. The acting was going well, attitude given, shoulders relaxed. The upper-class twang Rugan so loathed couldn’t even be heard for the first time in months. “Little serpent, long shadow is what he’s going for, Tiny.”

The half orc accepted the dated code, a brief nod before stepping aside and letting the pair enter the tavern. They were met with shaded windows, wary eyes observing their movements.

Stepping up to the bar, Gale deliberated momentarily over what would be a suitable drink to order before simply slamming his hand down and requesting something strong. He turned his back on the confused bartender, who glanced at Rugan, shaking his head.

A small glass of a steaming cherry red liquid was placed behind on the darkened wood. Possibly Jhuild, or was it some Hultail spirits that attempted to melt through the glass? Gale didn’t dare sip the concoction, instead choosing to appear as intimidating as he could whilst keeping an ear out for anything that pointed to the location of his mother.

Rugan sided up next to him, elbows on the bar, refusing to make eye contact. This wasn’t the place for whispering sweet nothings or even a compliment; it was a place for looking for work, or better yet, a quick fuck.

A cackle sounded from behind a closed oak door, feminine and intoxicated, followed by the raised voices of Tara and two other women. “A fireball?! In the bedroom!? His hand was where!?”

Gale immediately recognised the laugh of that of his mother, pushing himself over the bar and towards the door. It was with that the patrons of the tavern stood, ready to protect their leader.

“You might not want to-” Rugan was too slow to stop the door from swinging open and stopping Gale from vanishing behind it. “Fuck…”

“Thought you could just come back?” A tight palm closed on Rugan’s shoulder, a gruff voice snarling in his ear from the owner behind him. “Darnys over there has been waiting a long while for you.” A dirty nail signalled to the dark-haired woman sitting in a dimly lit corner.

Rugan sucked in a breath, his hand going down to the crossbow at his side. He could see the eyes of Darnys glinting in the candlelight, the corners of her mouth curved in a smile as if she were a cat playing with a trapped mouse.

Before the grasp on his arm grew any tighter, Rugan swiped at the abandoned liquor, tossing the contents into the face of the brute behind him. A savage shout was released as the liquid met flesh and he used the opportunity to raise his crossbow, bolts fired in Darnys’ direction as well as at the other mercenaries that closed in on his position.

Hopping over the bar was not what his joints wanted, as he felt the impact of landing on the sticky floor beneath. Voices could be heard behind him, commands shouted to kill him. His eyes caught the sight of the surrounding bottles, wishing for a moment he had access to Gale’s firebolt spell. Alchemist’s Fire always there when he needed it.

With the yelling came more commotion from the back room and as the door swung open, Rugan was surprised to see the small feet of Friol in front of him, her cheeks reddened and her long-forgotten scowl very much present.

“Stand down!” she ordered, her voice forcing all present to back down.

Even Rugan himself felt the need to lower his crossbow. Where’s Gale? Is he hurt? Has she killed him and what of his mother? The grip on the crossbow tightened, the string pulled taut as the need to fire took over. I’ll kill her. If she has harmed one hair on his head, I’ll kill her.

Tussled dark hair and a beaming grin looked down at Rugan from behind the gnome. Deep brown eyes shone bright with relief. Gone was the disguise, leaving Gale visible once again, but there was no fear in his features, only the satisfaction at a job completed. In his arms was Tara, looking as smug as any fattened house cat.

“What in the hells?” was all Rugan managed to get out before he felt the warm call of sleep fall over him, the world going dark around him, and the sound of someone complaining about tiramisu.

---

Sunlight streamed through the window over the navy sheets wrapped around Rugan’s scarred midsection. He couldn’t remember getting home after the tavern, didn’t know at what point he had lost his clothing, and all he was aware of were the muffled voices coming from the living room. He lay for some time listening, the quiet voices of Gale and Morena somewhat calming after a year of silent mornings in the tower.

“Can’t believe Tara caught you in the act. Gale, why did you not tell me of him?”

“I suppose after Mystra, after Tav, I was afraid in some way of disappointing you.”

So, Gale was embarrassed by me, by my past. Rugan rolled over, unsure if he wanted to hear the rest of their conversation.

“For you to find out I had once again fallen in love, to see the doubt in your eyes. I wonder on what odds you and her have placed on this relationship.”

“Does he make you happy?”

Rugan sat up, hearing the question. Surely there was more to her questions than that? A lecture of sorts, a rant about his personality, appearance, history.

“More than I’ve ever known,” came the answer. “He by all means is rather crude, and he has a past, as do we all, but with him, I feel like a better man. Not just good enough for someone, a consolation prize of sorts, but valued, loved.”

“Then I suppose if I were to place a wager, I’d be in for very good winnings indeed.”

Getting changed silently, Rugan thought about how he was going to appear. He’d already met and insulted Morena, already showed his true colours, so playing the part, disguising himself seemed pointless. He also could not hide in the bedroom until she left. Meeting her would have to happen. He swallowed his nerves and pushed open the door, trying to iron down the creases of his used shirt with his hands.

The flowers he’d bought brought colour to the room. The smell of freshly made kaeth floated through the air and before he had time to change his mind, he saw the faces of Gale and Morena glancing up expectantly at him.

She got up from the small wooden seat at the table, Rugan’s usual spot, and approached him, her back straight and strength regained after the evening’s events. The dress from the day before had been replaced with a now even gaudier purple and orange one, the sleeves somehow even looser. “Sleep well?”

“If you can call it that, yeah.”

A smile crept over her red lipstick. “Consider it payment for the tiramisu.”

He wanted to mumble that she was abitch, but he bit back the insult, knowing on some level he deserved it. They were all safe, that’s all that mattered.

Morena wrapped her arms around him, an overpowering floral perfume absorbed into the fibres of her bright dress, and Rugan had to resist pushing her away or calling for Gale’s help. After a moment he relaxed, the warmth from her similar to one he already knew, the acceptance and love clear in the one simple gesture. Quietly, he heard her speak, her voice clear but concise. “Do you love him?”

He caught the sight of a wary Gale over her shoulder, brown eyes that matched hers, the same thick dark hair that lay in Rugan’s peripheral vision. He could only give a small nod into the crook of her neck, calming as she hugged him a little tighter, feeling the sensation of a home, a mother, that had accepted him.

---

The morning passed over discussions of the upcoming wedding, Rugan trying to keep himself from saying how much he hated the idea of the whole Dekarios clan being there, Gale trying not to correct the behaviour used at the table when Rugan decided a steak knife was perfectly acceptable to slice a sponge cake with.

Both were glad when it approached noon and Morena made up her mind to head back to the shop to sort the stock, leaving them both exhausted but side eyeing each other at the thoughts of what had been interrupted the night before.

“Well, Rugan, free for a quickie?”

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #gale bg3 #bg3 rugan #gale x rugan #zhentweave #giles was the og gale #just saying #i dont apologise for any of this

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crippled-punk-guy · 1 year ago

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I want to talk about outbreaks, poverty, and medical oppression.

I’m sure most of you are aware of long covid, the phenomenon that people who were infected with covid are having health problems they didn’t before infection that are now following them through their life. A lot of these situations have been disabling; I myself now have an extra disability tacked onto the list as well as many of my once abled friends joining me. Even my grandpa has developed a disability because of his infection. And this is something our family is not new to.

For the purpose of this story I’m going to call her aunt M. Aunt M was my grandma’s aunt, so technically my great aunt I believe. When she was a little girl she was completely able bodied like most of her immediate family. They had no known health problems that would cause anything like what happened to her. By this time polio was very well known about, vaccines were starting to be rolled out and treatments had started to become available to more people according to my uncle (her older brother). One day aunt M and her siblings go outside and find that their neighbors yard had flooded, so like a group of five kids in a small town with nothing else to do they play in the water. They had no idea that something so small would completely change the course of their little sister’s life. She ended up contracting polio, the only source anyone could think of was the standing water. As far as I’m aware no one else got sick or at the very least as sick as she did. It completely destroyed her lungs and her ability to walk, the muscles in her legs contracted and got stuck in a bent position and could hardly handle any weight. Aunt M spent the rest of her life using an oxygen machine and a power wheelchair once her family was able to save enough for one, and while you will not give her any pity because she never wanted any, I will tell her story to remind everyone of her. She shouldn’t have been disabled. She wouldn’t have lived a life of pain if not for one reason: poverty. You see the rich neighborhood a couple miles away had the resources. Any kids there were properly vaccinated and given treatments like leg braces to help them. Their family didn’t have any of that. No access to medication. No way to help her. She was very lucky that her symptoms didn’t get worse, she could’ve very easily died.

Aunt M passed away during the covid pandemics first year, it was very sudden and unexpected, we were all devastated. But part of me thinks it was slightly a blessing, a blessing that she wouldn’t have to watch her nephew go through the same thing. I was already disabled when this whole thing started, I already used a wheelchair and she knew that, I always felt a closeness to her because of it even though I hardly got to see her. But I got sick, more sick than usual, and ended up developing severe POTS. I have much less energy than I did before and that’s saying a lot, I have trouble pushing my wheelchair now because of my lung capacity and overall weakness. Hopefully soon I will be getting a power chair. And I can’t help but think of Aunt M.

I can’t help but think of all of the people like her, just innocent people who were living and then suddenly now their life is changed forever. I feel like it was easier for me because I had already accepted being disabled, sure more to worry about isn’t ideal but at least I’m no stranger to it. But think about that and think about aunt M. How a little less than a hundred years ago the same fucking thing happened.

Post polio syndrome and post covid syndrome are one in the same in a lot of ways. The effects they cause are surprisingly similar, at least in my family and experience, and it took years for people to admit post polio existed like it will for post covid. This is why it’s called a mass disabling event, people go into it relatively healthy and come out with health problems and disabilities that will never go away. The wealthier people can try out the experimental treatments and possibly be helped or cured, while the rest of us have to live with the proof that our government doesn’t know how to take care of their own people.

While POTS does effect the body differently than how polio effected their lungs and chests we need to comprehend how serious this is. Some people live with POTS and can mitigate their symptoms to the point of it barely effecting them, and some of us need to use wheelchairs because we can’t breathe or think while standing for longer than three minutes. It’s a syndrome with a wide variety of presentations and effects on patients, and it is a nervous system disorder so it may have more lasting effects than we can even think of right now.

Honestly I don’t have a point to summarize into, but just remember how the government handled polio and how it’s handled covid so far, I predict that when those of us who are young adults now are my aunt M’s age we’ll see the same fucking thing happen all over again. And we’ll sit there, with our long covid impacts and know, we haven’t learned a god damn thing.

I’ll end you with reiterating, do not hold any pity for my Aunt M, she was a very strong willed person who wouldn’t accept any amount of other people feeling bad for her, direct your emotions to the government who did this to her and us. Aunt M was healthy, she should’ve stayed healthy. Government inaction decided her fate for her.

#disability #post covid #post polio #personal

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bitehq · 9 months ago

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✕ ⸻ 𝙳𝙾𝙽'𝚃 𝙻𝙴𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙳𝙴𝙰𝙳 𝙱𝙸𝚃𝙴 𝚈𝙾𝚄, SHAWN BETANCOURT...

...but just in case, brees, you have 24 hours to tell us your preferred resting place. nice to see you around, adria arjona look-alike !

⸻ OOC INFO:

brees, 37, she/her, Mountain , [filling wc for atlas ]

⸻ BASIC

Adria Arjona. 30. Cis woman. she/her. ― i see you met Shawn Betancourt, huh? they have been around for… well, it will be one week, now. time flies when you are busy and as part of THE MEDICS, they are. if you want to meet them, they live in B1A2C, i think. people say they are clever + perceptive, but don’t piss them off, okay? because they can be also needy + obsessive, so be safe.

⸻ BACKGROUND

Growing up in the south came with it’s own challenges but being a kid in New Orleans had unique frustrations. Shawn’s family embraced every bit of it. All of the history, mystery, occult, and the parties. They ran a museum and tarot shop in the French Quarter that was extremely popular with tourists and even the locals joined in the fun during certain times of the year. Shawn wasn’t like them. Every time she tried to give a tour at the museum she just stuttered over the words. And forget giving the readings, she couldn’t remember the cards' meanings. It was all a ruse and everyone involved knew that but…she just couldn’t get it.

It was embarrassing to have parents be so engrossed in the lifestyle of the big easy that it put a bad taste in her mouth for staying there after graduation. She figured that going to college would help put things in perspective. Maybe make it easier to find her own place in the world rather than try to fit into her family’s. She chose pre-med and figured if nothing else, she could help people in other ways.

She never got the chance.

The dead rose and she was stuck where she was. It was ironic that she never believed in the supernatural of the very town she grew up in and here she was, a character in the apocalypse.

The end of the world brought with it the best and the worst of humanity. Some people banded together to create new beginnings. Others wanted nothing more than to take advantage of the lack of consequences. The dead were indiscriminate though. It didn’t matter if you were a good person or not, they would take you with them all the same.

And then a glimmer of hope in the sea of endless death. There was a safe haven from the rest of the world. Shawn felt like she had been given a second chance and she wants to do everything in her power to make it work.

⸻ HEADCANONS

Looks just like her father

Carries Mardi Gras beads in her pack everywhere and can’t bear to part with them

Her brother used to call her Kit-Kat after the candy bar

⸻ WANTED CONNECTION

Her brother / familial ; they are 32-40 year-old that looks like UTP (some possible suggestions: Diego Luna, Diego Boneta, Jay Hernandez, Justin Baldoni, Wagner Moura, Michael Trevino. i heard that you can describe their relationship like this : Her brother was much more involved in the family business than she was but he also tried to keep her happy and positive. They were relatively close and the beads she carries were ones she took from his room when she went away to college.

#bite.accepted

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systemsearcher · 1 year ago

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Map of Igsbide

Been working on a map for my Godbound setting. Still not sure if I'll ever get to actually run this campaign, but this has certainly been fun to work on.

I think it's about finished, everything else would have to be added mid-game.

For those interested in the world's lore... well here it goes.

The world is artificial. What reason it was created for, only the head God of that world knows. And he isn't telling. Why? Well, because he was also artificially created by someone else, from the outside. He was a fair arbiter of the world, someone who kept it protected against external threats and served as the ultimate resolver of conflict, along with his army of angels.

That isn't really why he ain't telling. For one reason or another, at a relatively recent point in time, something happened to him. He began fearing that he is losing power. Nobody could tell if it was really the case or not, but he soon started to descend to horrible lengths in order to fight said loss. The splitting point was when he began to drain his own angels for power. That was when the Angelic armies, in an unprecedented turn of events, rebelled.

The Head God did not take it idly, of course. He immediately tried to FORCE his army to obey, in the most direct manner: by using his power to effectively burn out their minds and souls, until they were left as mere extensions of his will. It worked on about half of them. The others stood strong, and fought in a war that shattered an entire continent. And, in the end, they succeeded in locking the Head God away in his own temple.

This war left the rest of the world in chaos. No arbiter, no true leadership, no guardians of peace and prosperity. And so, it slowly but surely descended into petty fiefdoms and infighting. And, more importantly, into seeking a replacement for the top position.

SOPH

Things varied on every continent. The north continent, well… it was shattered. The only lifeforms left there were the two remnant sides of the angels, and the God himself, imprisoned in his island temple.

HEARTLANDS

The central continent got split inbetween three fiefdoms. Two human, and one spirit. The twin kingdoms were lead by brothers with radically different outlooks on the world, whose bond broke apart a long time ago. Meanwhile, the spirit of the forests reigned in nature, establishing strict rules of how they interacted with her domains that everyone had to follow, or face her wrath.

KOVAN

The south was split apart, both literally and metaphorically, inbetween two other siblings. But this time artificial. The humans of this continent, seeking leadership, have crafted mechanical deities of their own. But both of them have soon separated, fought, and ended up splitting yet another continent in two in their rabble, before retreating to their domains, leaving their human followers, yet again, without leadership.

MYRIAD CULTS

The east, well… when the chaos struck, the people of this continent sprung millions of cults to all manner of entities, until one day, someone managed to reach out to something they were not supposed to. An entity of void and hunger, whose first invasion managed to get the myriad cults to unite as one side in a conflict that, eventually, managed to seal the entity away.

AIRUNDA

The jungles of the west continent ended up shattered not literally, but across borders, as each and every town and village chose to abandon their prior connections and isolate. There are few people left willing to try and get the peoples of the continent to keep in contact and help each other, mostly to poor reception, with the exception of one kind and respected soul who, in her old age, began to reverse age, as if by a miracle.

THE VITRIFIED LANDS

And the south west… there is a very good reason it is brought up last, for it was gone the first. Another breakage in the mechanisms of the world lead to something causing the guardian entities of the machinery that runs the realm to spill out, and consider everything that was on the continent as an intrusion, and a mistake. The result was it being glassed to perfection.

And that is the state of the world our heroes, now nascent Godbound themselves, would arrive unto if the campaign would have the chance to actually bloody start.

#systemsearcher #godbound #worldbuilding #fantasy worldbuilding #fantasy world #fantasy map #maps #ttrpg maps #ttrpg #igsbide

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redrobin-detective · 4 years ago

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The 101 Deaths of Danny Phantom

AO3 link

One of the first things people learned about dealing with ghosts, other than not to try and date them, is to never asks about their death or obsessions. That doesn’t mean the citizens of Amity Park aren’t curious though, especially about their resident ghostly hero and the confusing and concerning comments he sometimes makes.

“Are you okay?” Phantom asked Maisie as she shook and tried to hold back tears after that car had almost slammed into her. She sometimes joked about getting hit crossing the street of her college campus to pay her obnoxious loans but it was another thing entirely to almost experience it herself. Maisie was nearly twenty, she shouldn’t be comforted by someone younger than her little step sister but here she was, shaking like a lead and leaning into Phantom’s comforting, chilly touch.

“Sorry,” she stuttered, “thank you, I’m sorry I’m just-”

“Hey, it’s okay to be upset that was very scary. The thought of dying is very scary.” Through her adrenaline and her tears, she took in the ghost’s unnatural glow, his faded, barely visible appearance and the fact that he was floating a foot off the ground. Maisie knows this ghost, this boy, knows more than she ever could about death.

“And getting run over by a car sure is a bad way to go,” the ghost kid chuckled awkwardly, taking his cold hand off her shoulder to scratch at the back of his neck. “You should see how my dad drives or my mom or my sister if she’s running late enough,” Phantom paused in thought. “No one in my family should have a license now that I think about it. Anyway,” he dismissed with a wave.

“My sister and I were getting ready to head out to school and my dad was backing out of driveway too fast and didn’t see us and uh, luckily I got my sister out of the way in time haha,” Phantom trailed off awkwardly. Was it because of the uncomfortable conversation or because he noticed her dawning horror.

Her best friend ran the community college’s Phan club so Maisie was a member by default. Phantom’s death was sometimes talked about late at night, everything from wrongful murder to a freak accident. She never in her worst nightmares imagined being him being runover in front of his own house by parental ignorance. It was so normal, a quick mistake and a life lost.

“Oh my god,” he said with an adorable little green blush. “Why am I babbling about that? You almost got hit by a car, I’m probably retraumatizing you or something. I should probably go get the jerk who almost hit you,” he said before disappearing into thin air.

“Tia is not going to believe this,” she whispered to no one. All she knew is that for the rest of her damned life she was going to look both ways when crossing the street. She’d seen first hand what a single moment of reckless driving could cause.

XxX

Matthew, not Matt or Matty or Hughie, Matthew shivered from the cold. He was only in his boxers with little Pacman on them. It had been fine when he’d gone to bed considering it was mid-August but Phantom and this stupid flaming mecha ghost had tussled outside the summer camp he was working at. He could see some of the kids snickering at his state of undress though he was just extremely glad they were alive enough to disrespect him like this.

“Oh man, I’m sorry,” the ghost kid said with big, sad eyes that looked so human despite the fact that they were literally glowing. He looked around at all the snow and ice left over from his fight. “Jeez you guys must be freezing, I wish I could warm you all up but all I can do is make things colder.”

“S’okay,” Matthew said through his chattering teeth. “Teaching the kids how to start a fire was supposed to be next week but we can get a jump on it.” That got a smile out of the ghost and within a half hour, the other counselors were distributing blankets and hot beverages to the kids clustered around multiple fires. They didn’t seem particularly upset by the potentially fatal attack, Matthew will breakdown about that at a later time when he was alone. For now, he just smiled as the children chattered happily with the ghost while he cleaned up as much of the damage as possible.

“So you spend all day fighting ghosts?” Zoe asked with stars in her eyes.

“A lot of the nights too,” Phantom nodded, “I do other stuff but yeah it seems ghost fighting takes up most of my time.”

“Where’d you learn those cool powers?” Zuri asked, miming a punch.

“Comes with being a ghost,” Phantom shrugged,��“my ice powers came in later though so I still struggle a bit with them but I’m getting better every day.”

“Why ice though?” Morris said with his cocked curiously to the side. “I see some ghosts use fire or shadows, why do you have ice?”

“Ah that’s a little personal,” Phantom chuckled but his posture was easy despite the invasive question. “Specialty powers like my ice require special circumstances and a certain uh connection to the ghost. Someone like me couldn’t use fire or electricity or plants, ice is in my soul, it’s who I am.”

Matthew paused in drinking his lukewarm coffee as a horrible thought came to mind. He’s been an outdoorsman all his life, practically from the time he could walk. He’d been a deep woods camping guide for a decade before switching to working at summer camps. But the years working in the relative comfort of a stable camp didn’t erase his knowledge of how unforgiving and deadly the woods in the winter could be. A grown man, much less a young teen, would freeze to death in 20 minutes if it was cold enough.

It made sense for ghosts to develop powers related to their deaths. Had Phantom been one of the dozens of unfortunate kids he read about every year who ran away in the middle of winter only to found later as a frozen corpse. He eyed the boy’s snow white hair and frigid aura he exuded with mournful trepidation. God, what a horrible way to die.

“I’d get chilly with ice powers,” Tabby said with a shudder, she held out her cup of cocoa. “You want some of my cocoa to warm you up?”

“No thanks,” Phantom said with a soft smile that was warm despite everything. “The cold hasn’t bothered me for a while.”

XxX

Ghost attacks may be the norm but, if there was one good thing that came out of whole mess it was the fact that violent human crimes went down drastically. So when the rare murder did happen, the shock and fear rippled through the whole town.

Stanford Newton had only been sheriff of Amity Park for eight months after the last guy had gone gray overnight and moved to Florida the next day. It was a daunting position but one he bore proudly. This wouldn’t be his first murder investigation having initially cut his teeth as a beat cop in Chicago but it would be the first in Amity. And it certainly was the first in which the dead served in an active capacity.

“Amanda Chastain, 27. Officially she was a waitress down at Spengler’s Diner but she’s been picked up for prostitution twice in the last year,” Stan said calmly, ignoring the cold, angry presence over his shoulder. “History of polysubstance abuse as well, not that either of those things mean she deserved this.” Used, beaten to death and then dumped in the trash like yesterday’s paper.

He wondered if she’d come back a ghost or if she’d finally get some peace this world hadn’t offered her. “We don’t have many leads right now, I’m afraid. Acting illegally as they are, there’s not a lot of resources these poor girls have to turn to.”

“I’ll find them,” The Phantom said with blazing conviction, his voice thick and sharp as ice. “I’ll find and bring them to justice and make sure no one else is hurt again.”

“I believe you,” Stan nodded, shutting his notebook as he finally turned to face the teenage superhero haunting his town. He can’t say he liked what he saw. The Phantom looked even less human than usual, his aura flaring and flickering like the foggy mist before a heavy snowstorm. His unnatural green eyes glowered, painting his too young face in a terrifying light.

The kid looked furious, clearly taking this death to heart. He’d read the Fenton’s memos about obsessions and such but this seemed beyond that. “But don’t hurt anyone to do it, or yourself while you’re at it.”

“I won’t, I’ll make sure they’ll face human justice and don’t worry,” Phantom gave a snarling smile. “No mortal can hurt me, not like this,” he growled causing the hairs on Stan’s arms and neck to stand on end. He flew off after that, presumably to track down Amanda’s killer.

“Not like this,” Stan mumbled to him, pulling out his handkerchief and wiping his brow where a cold sweat had broken out. “Jesus Christ that poor kid.” Stan had seen plenty of murdered and mutilated bodies in his lifetime, some of them even kids. He just never got to talk to them after they’d had their life forcibly snatched away. It would explain the ghost’s near fanatical determination to save others, why he took a stranger’s murder so personally.

“I hope your own murderer is behind bars,” Stan said as he tucked his handkerchief back into his coat pocket. “Or even six feet under, for killing a good kid like you.” Stan made his way back to his squad car so he could head back to the station and move forward with the official investigation. But he’d eat his hat if there wasn’t a stammering lowlife there by tomorrow ready to turn themselves in.

Maybe after all this was settled down, he’d delve into some of the cold cases stacked in the cellar. Maybe in there he’ll find a picture of a smiling, carefree teen who’d disappeared and returned with the power now to ensure no one else suffered as he had.

XxX

“Yes, I know about the Phantom,” Luis Oliveira will say to anyone who so much as brings up the ghost kid. Locals know better by now but the tourists eat it up every time. He twists his finely combed mustache and gestures to the floor where his audience is standing. “He died right there oh ten or eleven years ago.”

Luis has worked his way all across the the United States since he emigrated from Brazil in the 70s. He finally settled in Amity Park about twelve years ago. He’d never intended to stay in the small Midwest town but the fatal shooting of a young customer kept his little corner market open.

“He was a nice kid, always said hi to me and paid in exact change. Was big fan of the snacks I made, would stop by after school and take half my inventory. He had big brown eyes and a crooked nose,” Luis would smile at the memory before closing his eyes and frowning sadly. “One day, he came late. His teacher made him stay after to go over a failed test, I remember he complained. He was pulling out his money when robber burst in, demanding my money. I fumbled for the register key, dropped it. I bent down to grab it and I hear shots going off. Two over my head, another right into the boy’s throat.”

Luis will hear the sound of that sweet boy’s guttural choking sounds as he drowned in his own blood until the day he himself died. The robber left after the shot, Luis called the police and held the young man’s hand as he died. The would be thief were never found and Luis never did learn anything about the boy who’d died on his floor for getting hungry after school.

“As soon as I saw Phantom on the TV,” Luis would say, perking up after his moment of somber grief, “I knew it was that boy come back. Those kind eyes, I’d recognize them anywhere. He’s never come here but one day he will and I will be able to pass on my regret on not being able to save his life that day.”

XxX

“I think he killed himself,” Mikey whispered to Lester during lunch period, angling his voice low. “The jocks may love Phantom for his powers but I just know he was one of us, an unwanted nerd. I’ve seen him chatting up a ghost I’m pretty sure is Poindexter, Casper’s suicide kid. They’re probably bonding over their similar deaths and the circumstances that led to it.”

“That’s pretty dark,” Lester whispered back. “I also get unpopular vibes from him but I don’t think he’s the time do uh do that to himself; he’s too stubborn and protective. But I bet he was the victim of a prank gone wrong. Dash locked Fenton in the Janitor’s closet last Wednesday, he got out okay somehow but maybe something like that happened to Phantom. He always looks kind of annoyed at the A-listers, maybe they remind him of old bullies.”

“Nuh-uh,” Clara said, pushing up her glasses with her middle finger. “The ghost kid totally got electrocuted or something. He was fighting that weather ghost and he sent lightning bolts his way and Phantom flinched. He fought the Ghost King and yet a little electricity scares him? It might not’ve even been a lightning strike but something manmade like a machine backfiring or something.”

“Get real,” Mikey scoffed, sipping his milk with an eyeroll. “I’m sure we’d have heard about some poor kid getting zapped to death; this town isn’t that big.”

“We’d have heard about a suicide too,” Lester noted with a wry grin.

“Shut up Mr. I base my theories around Fenton who’s a known weirdo”.

XxX

“I’m telling you, the ghost kid died of some debilitating illness,” Abbie McMillian, retired school teacher and three year reigning champ at the Tristate area’s Daylily Competition. She sipped her tea and spoke with as much confidence as she had back in the day wrangling Amity’s impressionable youths. “The superhero thing is clear wish childhood fulfillment, a chance to live and be free like he never got to in life. You see how happy and carefree that young man looks while flying? Clearly he spent his formative years sick and weak.”

“No way,” Greta von Martin frowned as she aggressively stirred her own tea to show her displeasure. “I worked in a hospital for close to 30 years and I know what chronically sick kids look like and Phantom doesn’t fit the bill. I will agree he’s carefree when he’s not battling spooks but he acts like a stupid teen. I’m telling you, the boy got into his parent’s liquor cabinet or took a few too many of whatever pill was going around his school. Tragic but something that happens every day.”

“Greta, dearie,” Abbie said with a pinched frown. “We’ve been friends since grade school and I love you like a sister but you are wrong and until you admit it, I won’t share anymore of my recipes.”

“You’re just being stubborn because you can’t see what’s right in front of you even after working with kids half of your life, Abbie, love,” Greta sniffed. “And you can kiss my grandson’s help weeding you garden goodbye until you relent.”

XxX

Perhaps one of the most human traits is curiosity, especially about what comes after death. Now the good people of Amity Park know a great deal about the dead so the lives before is what attracts their attention and none so more than the ghost boy. Maybe it’s because he’s their hero or maybe it’s because he’s so young. Or perhaps it’s because Phantom is such a mess of contradictions that it’s very hard to guess how the unfortunate boy met his end. But everyone has their own theories, from the mundane to the fantastic, some with evidence backing them up and others pure poppycock.

But for all their curiosity, as much as it burns them to know, they’ll never ask. They don’t want to risk the powerful ghost’s wrath but, moreover, it seemed in poor taste. The boy risked his afterlife to keep them safe, they couldn’t ask what traumatic and miserable circumstances had led to this point.

And besides, it was so much more fun to look up at ghostly figure as he sped through the skies and wonder.

#danny phantom #my writing #i made a headcanon post and immeaditly said 'i have to write this'#and then I did #tw: suicide mention #there is a non described background death of an OC #opinions are like assholes #everyone has one #and *everyone* has an opinion on how phantom died #some are reasonably close and some are waaaay far off #but they wonder and gossip and argue when the kid cant hear #its human nature

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taeescript · 4 years ago

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29 + 1 (Part Two)

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰: In which Seokjin is the Devil from The Devil Wears Prada, Taehyung is your work Jesus and Jimin is your handsome successful brother.

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: seokjin x reader (squint harder than before for taehyung x reader)

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: slice of life; ceo!seokjin; a dash of enemies to lovers au

𝔴𝔠: 7.6k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: language; a plethora of drunk people, maybe a sext, and a ton of lying (possible implication of impending smut?!)

𝔞/𝔫: this part came out longer than i thought it would be but *shrugs* feedback and thoughts always welcomed. enjoy (: 𝔡𝔦𝔰𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔯: DailyHive is real; this is not associated with it

part one || part three

The bright pop music that is blaring from the speakers does little to slow your animated talking. Bodies are packed into the small local bar, and students on summer break fill booths and form a snake of impatient, drunk (and horny) people. A slow trickle of the brazen has started to fill the dance floor as the evening morphs into the night.

You whip your hair into a ponytail and dab at the sweat that is beading your forehead. You definitely should have worn that sleeveless top rather than this thicker t-shirt dress.

“So, is he like your sugar daddy or something?” Taehyung asks, “Also drink.”

Friday nights were usually spent at home, snuggled under the blankets in your pjs binging another rewatch of Friends. After work today, you could no longer hold onto your secret and invited Taehyung out for drinks. His girlfriend, Fei, was supposed to join but had been held back for overtime.

You tip the shot back with no chase.

“You’re a monster,” he comments as he bites into his lemon piece.

The two of you had made a bet at the beginning of the evening: you each chose a pop song and each time it played, the nominee had to take a shot. That was your fourth of the night, and to say there was a bit of a buzz is an understatement.

“It’s all throat technique, Tae,” you say with a bit of a slur, “Hit the back and swallow. No innuendo intended. Also, why the hell haven’t you had any to drink?”

“You picked ‘Peaches’ for fuck’s sake.”

“I told you I don’t listen to pop music. It was the first one playing.”

“And shouldn’t that have told you something? Justin Bieber of all people?”

“Shut up. It’s your song.” You nod at the pink-faced barista for another round. She slaps your order in front of the two of you without so much a glance.

You don’t even know what song is playing, but you feel quite satisfied watching Taehyung make a face as he downs it in one go.

He clears his throat after the liquor has burned its way down to his stomach. “Back to my question: is he your sugar daddy?”

You bark out a laugh. Was he? Perhaps the fact that he paid for fancy meals at lunch? Those have been his one o’clock meetings for the past two months.

“I don’t know. I’d rather he buy me a car or pay my rent if anything. A casual 1k a week wouldn’t be so bad either. We just sit in his office and eat in secret, Tae. He’s ‘training me in the art of culinary cuisine’. I think it’s just so I don’t embarrass him by stuffing a shrimp cocktail up my nose.”

“You do know – ”

“Yes, I know. And I would never. It’s a metaphor. It’s just that the position ‘intern’ is quite loosely defined at DailyHive, don’t you think?”

Taehyung rinses his mouth with water before speaking. “So let me get this right. Mr. Kim calls you into his office, says he’s going to take you as his guest to the biggest tech event of the year, treats you to lunches and doesn’t ask for anything in return? No secret midnight meetups or shady business deals…”

You shake your head.

“Damn,” Taehyung says, resting his arm on the bar table, “Forget sugar daddy. He’s just daddy.”

Sticking your tongue out, you gag visibly at his comment. “Do not ever call him that again, Tae; ev-er.”

He laughs and watches you pensively. After a moment’s thought, he says, “Nobody has ever called me Tae.”

“What do they call you then?” you reply, wrinkling your brows together. A cute brunette across the room catches your eyes and for the briefest of seconds, you wonder what a one-night-stand would feel like.

He shrugs. “Just Taehyung.”

The brunette waves in your direction. You are about to return his wave when an equally cute brunette runs up to him. He promptly kisses her before swivelling her around to join his group of friends.

“Sorry. Do you want me to stop? I just assumed since we were out of the office…”

Oh Fate, how cruel you are. Life of twenty cats and solidarity, here you come. Maybe dogs. You feel like you could be more of a dog person.

“No,” he stops you, “You can call me Tae. Whatever you want.”

You turn your attention back on the also cute brunette in front of you. In all honestly, despite his youthful god-like countenance, he looks slightly out of place at this college bar with you in his upstanding business attire and dorkishly adorable thick-framed glasses.

“Sure. How about Tee-Tee? Or Hyungie? The TaeMan?” You wiggle your brows with the suggestion.

“God help me.”

The two of you clink your shot glasses together even though neither of your songs are being played.

His Apple watch lights up to indicate an incoming message. He relays the text to you, “Fei’s done work. She’s on her way now.” You can’t help but notice a shift in his previously excited demeanor.

You nudge him with your elbow. “Aren’t you excited? She’ll need a glass of wine or two to destress after work. I might be projecting onto you for this part, but you’re buzzed. So after we get her to unwind I’m sure the overwhelming power of pheromones will get you lucky tonight.” You wink at him to emphasize your point.

“She’s not a big drinker. She’s probably just going to come and ask to leave in five minutes. Bars like this aren’t really her thing either,” he states. He then unbuckles his watch and tucks it away into the pocket of his pants. Undoing the cuffs of his shirt, he rolls up the sleeves and continues to regard you solemnly. “Okay, next round is one me. Are you absolutely sure you don’t want to switch songs?”

You notice how nice, long, and slender his fingers are. Plus the thing of girls liking when men have visible veins on their forearm? That had never really caught your attention until now.

“She’s a bit of a bitch,” you say and immediately regret, “Shit, sorry. That just slipped out. Alcohol.”

He offers you his water to drink.

“I mean, she’s a little…uptight at times? But people can be completely different in and out of work. I can only imagine how stressful it is in her position. Working overtime until 9pm on a Saturday night seriously sucks,” you say to try and mend your wrongdoing.

“Fei in the office is basically Fei at home,” he says softly, “It’s always work with her.”

“We support career-driven women, yeah?” A smile is offered from you to him.

He finally lets out a small one and nods. Out of the blue, he reaches over and covers your hand with his. Staring intently into your eyes, he says, “I know she makes you do her reports and occupies your time to do her coffee runs as well. You can say no to her. She may be my girlfriend, but you’re technically my intern, and I will stand on your side no matter what.”

“Um, okay. Thanks, Tae,” you say. His sincerity has caught you off guard.

At that moment, the sound of clicking heels pierce its way into your eardrums through the noise of the even busier bar. Taehyung quickly retracts his hand.

Fei arrives, not a hair out of place in her tightly pulled bun. Her lips are painted a striking red against the paleness of her skin, and her manicured nails dig into the forearm of Taehyung when she reaches them. Even though she is wearing an otherwise drab office business suit, the curvature of her body draws quite a few glances from the younger men in the crowd.

“It’s like a zoo here,” she sneers, turning away from a sacrificial lamb who had been bold enough step out of his circle of friends to greet her with a sleezy “hey”.

“Hi, Fei. Busy night?” you greet her first.

She gives you a tight-lipped smile. “Yes. I don’t know why you weren’t there. Isn’t it the intern’s job to complete reports?”

Again, a loosely defined use of “intern” at DailyHive.

You return her smile with a crisp one of your own.

She turns away from you and regards Taehyung, who looks as if he had been the sacrificial lamb instead. “Teddybear, let’s go home. You know this type of place isn’t my vibe. I’m getting a headache already.”

You raise an eyebrow at his pet name.

He turns a little bit pinker, if that is possible under the current alcohol-induced glow of his cheeks, and says, “Um, sure. Y/N, are you going to be okay getting home?”

Waving him off, you show him your phone. “30% left. I’ve got pepper spray in my bag and enough booze in me to not run from a fight. I’ll call an Uber home soon, don’t worry.”

Fei has already begun to fight her way through the squirming, dancing bodies. Taehyung glances quickly at her and turns back to you once last time. “Text me that you’re home safe.”

“Will do, boss,” you smile at him warmly.

He lingers for just a moment more before running after his impatiently waiting girlfriend.

You turn back to the bar and order another beer for yourself. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is perhaps the biggest perk of being single.

...

On the opposite side of town, sinking deeply into a soft lounge chair is Seokjin enjoying a rare evening out with his best friend. He has swapped his usual attire for a more relaxed fit of a white oversized crewneck and techwear bottoms. A heavy, exorbitant fur-lined long leather coat hangs on the coat rack beside the door to their private VVIP room. He swirls his glass of Chateau Lafite before sipping delicately.

Outside, only a handful of patrons sit quietly engrossed in their own conversations. It is a relatively empty night at the high-end lounge. A lady sings sultrily on stage with the smooth background of a saxophone as accompaniment.

Junho has poured himself another glass while he is talking to Seokjin. Seokjin had since slightly tuned out his friend’s rather elongated rendition of another celebrity sighting to occupy his mind with another individual.

“Earth to Jin? When did you get so lightweight since I’ve been gone?” Junho waves a hand in front of Seokjin’s nose.

Seokjin blinks to refocus.

“The mansion I bought last year or the one I bought last month?” he reiterates. Sensing that Seokjin truly had no idea what the topic at hand had been, he tries again.

“Where should I do my birthday party this year, man? I thought the mansion from last year since it’s closer to the city, but I feel like it’s been reused too many times. It’s not completely furnished yet, but the property I got last month is significantly bigger and I can probably host more people.”

“The new place then,” Seokjin answers half-heartedly.

Junho grumbles something intelligible.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing,” Junho sighs, “Tell me what’s new with you. How’s that little project of yours going? I still can’t believe you won’t let me know who you’re planning to take to the Gala.”

Seokjin had refused to release even the slightest detail about you to Junho. Letting him know that Seokjin had agreed to one of his plans would be enough to inflate Junho’s ego for at least a little while.

“It’s been going...”

Junho waits for more of Seokjin’s answer, but his friend’s attention has been turned to a received text.

10:17pm “Safe and sound, Teddy Bear.”

10:17pm “Or should I say Taeddybear? 🥴”

10:18pm “That last beer done me rael godo.”

10:18pm “Real good**”

Seokjin raises a brow at the unknown number. He responds back.

10:18pm “Who is this? I think you’ve got the wrong number.”

Junho crosses his legs and sits back with a sigh. He presses the button to request for an attendant.

10:19pm “You know who… Anyways, I just wanted to say thank you for saying you’ve got my back. It’s definitely appreciated.”

The response doesn’t do much except to further pique Seokjin’s curiosity.

“Sorry,” he says, sliding his phone back into his pocket, “Rogue text I think.”

Junho shrugs. “Is that right? Seems to have caught your attention.” There is now a manner of indifference to his voice.

“It’s going well, by the way – answering your question. I mean, all things considered. It’s not like I have to teach her how not to stuff a cocktail shrimp up your nose.”

His friend snorts. “I’d be concerned and against this person if it’s who you’re planning to bring.”

Seokjin’s phone buzzes again.

10:21pm “Pray for me when I wake up with the worst hangover of my life. I’m going to bed now.”

A moment of silence.

10:21pm “I hope I didn’t piss off Fei tonight for stealing you for the evening.”

10:22pm “Okay I’ll shut up now. Please don’t tell me you’re reading this. You should be getting some 😼💦.”

The emoji makes Seokjin choke, liquid sputtering from his lips.

Junho cusses. He angrily dabs at the speckle of red wine that has landed on his pearly white top.

10:23pm Download attached image. “Just in case, here’s a little something to get the night started 😉”

“What the hell man?” Junho gets up and makes his way to the bathroom. Luckily, the previously called attendant had arrived in time to escort him.

Seokjin barely notices that he is alone in room as he taps the download button. It isn’t until he has returned home and is looking at the picture one last time before bed that he realizes who his mysterious texter is.

The employee nametag clipped to the collar of your workday shirt hanging on the arm of a chair can only be found when zoomed in past your painted toes and naked feet.

...

You cannot hide your nervousness when you arrive at your “lunch meeting” the following Monday morning. All weekend, you had cursed yourself for not better checking who the recipient of your texts were before pressing send. Never had you thought that in your drunken stupor you would mix up “The Devil” in your contact list with “Taehyung Kim.” Curse you and your lack of friends beginning with the letter “T”.

You balk before, a hand poised in perfect position for a knock. Maybe he didn’t download it? And even if he did, it was just a troll feet pic. You had made sure that it was as pg-13 as possible before you had sent it.

“Hi,” you greet sheepishly when he has given you the go to enter.

In a smart plain blue button-up and round frames that are almost certainly for the aesthetics, the CEO of the company and your boss sizes you up and down.

“I know we’ve gotten to know each other better these past few weeks. But you’d think it’s still common courtesy to at least make eye contact,” he says. You look at him wide eyed without a word.

He rolls his eyes but does not gesture to your usual seat. In fact, you don’t spy a take-out container in sight. He instead stands up and picks up his phone, walking to the door. He notices you have yet to move.

“Let’s get moving. You’ve only got a 45 minute lunch.”

You scramble to match his speed and catch Taehyung’s eye as you grab your jacket at your desk. Taehyung’s gaze follows you as you hurry to leave in pursuit of Seokjin’s coattail.

...

The restaurant is a popular vegan establishment with a plethora of greenery crawling up its high ceilings and a window-framed overview of the city’s skyline. Waiters and waitresses who may just as well be walking New York Fashion Week serve you brunch mimosas on a golden plate; they attentively wait to the side in case you ever run out of water.

Common topics are rare between the two of you. Initially, you respectfully kept quiet and only answered questions when asked, but you have never been one for awkward silence. Yes, it’s awkward only if you make it awkward; there is just no denying the hanging suspense that curls your toes each time. Recently, you have started with simple inquiries regarding the company, who they might meet at the Gala and everyday mundane topics.

“You’re probably wondering why we’re out of the office,” Seokjin says. He continues shortly after taking a bite of his meal and ignores the look of your surprise at his initiation of a conversation. “My office has been getting stuffy with the warmer weather so I thought it’d be nice to get some fresh air. How’s the food?”

You nod, making small sounds of contentment as you chew on the Avocado Lime Tartare. Mmm… tart-y.

He takes a deep breath in, stalling the incoming conversation. “It’s my friend’s birthday this next weekend.”

“Oh,” you say, “Happy early birthday to him.”

“He’s my best friend.”

“Well… An extra happy early birthday to him.”

A sigh. “Are you free next weekend?”

Your chewing comes to a halt and you blink once at his question. Next weekend is the weekend before the Silver Gala. It is also the sole weekend before your birthday the following Friday after the Gala. You had hoped to spend it with Taehyung and maybe even Jimin who had promised to be in town on a long overdue vacation despite your chastising to visit your parents first.

He senses your trepidation. Quickly, he explains himself,

“He’s having a birthday party Saturday night. He has a place about an hour north of here. I can have somebody pick you up if that’s more convenient. I don’t have a birthday present for him and thought it’d be nice for you to meet him.”

“You’re giving him me for a present?” you ask, incredulously.

He bites his tongue. He never anticipated how awkward this conversation could go.

“You’re going as my plus one. He really wants to meet you; in fact, he insisted that you be there. He’ll be at the gala too. I have something else planned for his birthday present,” he adds hastily, “Besides, you’re less than qualified as a present.”

Musing silently to yourself, you wonder if in any situation should a human be qualified as a present. Despite that, you hate yourself as you agree on the spot.

The rest of the lunch passes by quickly in dull silence. As Seokjin pays for the meal on the company card (and hands you the receipt for reimbursement), you note that there has been no comment made on any strange photos texted to him over the weekend.

Perhaps being nonchalantly implied as a human birthday gift to a stranger is your karma for sending weird texts to your boss.

Seokjin stays inside the car as he drops you off at the office after lunch, already preparing for his next business meeting. You nod your goodbye and step onto the pavement through the courteously held open door of the limousine.

“Y/N, try a soft pink. Fuchsia is not your colour,” he tells you as the door is closed.

He then leaves you standing in front of the large office doors, staring at your chipped, week-old purple toenails.

...

“I’m not exactly expecting a package in the mail or a dress laid out on the hotel bed – ”

“You guys are staying at a hotel?” Taehyung says over the phone.

You are standing in your bedroom, an hour before when Seokjin is supposed to pick you up as an offering to his best friend. There are two dresses laid out on your Hello Kitty bed covers: a simple black dress you had worn once when you were a little bit more in shape and your prom dress.

“No, I’m at home. But I mean, let me play into this movie metaphor.”

“You suck at metaphors.”

You have your phone propped up on some pillows so that you can see Taehyung as you debate your fashion decision. He is in a relaxed white tee, hair messily framing his face after a shower and a bowl of popcorn in his hands. You watch as a droplet of water runs down his face from his still-wet hair. He nonchalantly licks it off from the side of his mouth.

“As I was saying, it wouldn’t hurt to get me something. He made it seem like it was a big deal. Like doesn’t the male lead usually surprise the female lead with a big bouquet of flowers and this over-the-top expensive dress which she wears and makes the male lead fall head over heels in love with her?”

He chews silently on a kernel then probes, “You want Mr. Kim to fall in love with you?”

“No,” you hastily correct, “It’s a metaphor. I think you’re the one who sucks at metaphors.”

There is a beep on your phone to indicate you have another incoming call.

“Tae, I’m going to have to call you back. My brother’s calling me,” you tell him. The black dress; your old prom dress is way too early 2000s. Black never hurts.

“Okay. Have fun tonight. Pretend that it’s your birthday party. And then I’ll meet you for brunch tomorrow, my treat? You can tell me all about it,” he says. “Also the black. You look cute in that one.”

“My party if I was 30, rich and successful. Oh wait, I’ll have one thing in common soon; that’s a start. Thanks though. I’ll call you tomorrow morning once I get up,” you say, then switch the call over to your brother. You had missed the flush of his cheeks as you busily swipe your phone.

Sticking the prom dress back into your closet, you rummage around the meager display of shoeboxes for a pair of high heels.

“Hey, Jimin,” you greet over the phone.

“Jesus, I do not need to be accosted by my half-naked sister,” he yells over the phone.

You turn rapidly, seeing that you had accidentally continued a video call from when you had hung up on Taehyung. You throw a pillow over the camera in your haste to cover yourself up.

“I was going to ask why you’re dressed like that but on second thought, I think I’ll leave your sexual exploits as your own secret.”

Despite how disturbed you feel about this comment, his cheerful voice makes you smile.

“So little sis, the weekend before the big three-oh!”

“Please stop reminding me.”

“Where do you want to meet tonight? I just got off the plane, but I can be ready to meet in about an hour. I booked a hotel close to the airport.”

Shit. You forgot to tell Jimin. These heels will have to do.

“Um… I, uh…”

“What?”

You clear your throat and begin to undress in front of the mirror. You have a sudden conscious thought that the dusty treadmill in your living room seems to be staring daggers at your back.

“I’ve got plans tonight.”

“Plans? I wasn’t even aware you had friends here.”

“Ouch, Jimin. But yes, I have friends. In fact, I am meeting a friend for brunch tomorrow if you want to join. I’m sure he’ll be okay with it.”

“He?” Jimin repeats, “Should I put on my big brother boxing gloves? Give him a good talking to in case he’s interested in my baby sister?” Pause. “Was that who you were calling before?”

You bite your answer back, not feeling the need to go down that rabbit hole.

“He’s just a friend; A co-worker really,” you say, “He’s also unavailable. And before you suggest anything, his goalkeeper is technically one of my bosses so I do not want to try and shoot past her thank you very much.”

Jimin laughs. “I wasn’t going to suggest anything. Well if you’re busy tonight, tomorrow morning works for me. Give me a call. I’ll spend the night in watching some good ol’ Netflix and enjoy this vacation time.”

“Sorry again,” you apologize.

“Go out and have fun,” he says, “You deserve it.”

The two of you finish off the call with the usual goodbyes. You have forty-five minutes to dress the part of a sparkly birthday surprise for the co-founder of the company you work for. Throwing on your favourite throwback music, you get to work.

Once satisfied, you snap a picture and sending it to Taehyung making special care that you have picked the right individual this time.

...

The mansion is bigger than you could have ever imagined, and the amount of people present are…

“You’re telling me I can do whatever I want tonight,” you ask Seokjin in the car.

There is no denying that Seokjin knows how to dress for an event. In a velvety black and white suit, contrasted by his blonde hair which he has elected to temporarily dye for the evening, he looks very much the posh CEO magazines brand him out to be. You are glad you elected for the simple black dress as standing beside this Renaissance statue in a floral pastel yellow dress would be like planting dandelions in Kanye’s sculpture garden (if he ever wanted one).

“The majority of people won’t recognize you after tonight. They’ll also be too drunk to even register anything you tell them,” Seokjin says.

He cannot believe that you chose a simple black dress. Did you really not own anything remotely feminine besides the most generic clubbing outfit? Even if you had wanted to make an appearance as a hooker, at least make it an expensive-looking one. Maybe he should have bought you that Versace dress he spotted in the window the other day. Instead…

“Take this. Your earrings are too gaudy for this event.”

You touch the sparkly black cats you have put into your ears. Their eyes are made of crystal, and you thought it looked quite fetching in the light. Opening up the box, you see a dainty elegant pair of teardrop earrings that may or may not be of real diamonds.

“Only Junho will know who you really are and then you can enjoy the rest of your night. I don’t want you to feel like you’re being held here against your will.”

Putting them on, you note that even this simple change in attire has elevated the entirety of your presence. You felt as luxurious as this gift.

“Thanks, Seokjin,” you try the first name basis he had insisted upon for this evening, “Not going to lie, I had imagined that maybe you’d send me a dress in the mail or something, but this is still very nice.”

He snorts and rolls his eyes. “Like in the movies? Please, I run a start-up company. I’m not a millionaire and I don’t think you would appreciate my handouts.”

You don’t respond, making your second note of the night on the Prada label on the cuff of his suit. “To clarify, I don’t introduce myself as your plus-one tonight.”

“No. I don’t want you associated with me,” he curtly states. He watches as your smirk twitches and he hits himself mentally in the head again. “It’s to protect you. There are bound to be tons of paparazzi tonight at a party as big as this. I don’t want you to find yourself in the tabloids tomorrow morning. Just be smart.”

The car pulls to a stop after inching its way up to the front door. People mill about outside in extravagant brands, holding glasses of champagne. The man of the hour is somewhere inside the building, charming his way into new business deals as well as making new friends.

“Stay close to me. You can leave after we meet Junho. It is his birthday after all,” Seokjin offers a hand as you step out of the car.

You take it, looping yourself into him so that your hand rests on his forearm. You are only 13 days younger than Junho, and yet this striking contrast in lifestyle hits you like a landslide while the two of you walk up the stairs and into the mansion.

Inside, it is dim with disco lights flashing to the beat of amped party music. Upon entrance, the two of you are offered glasses of liquor (you take a swirling iridescent drink) to which you are then ushered to where the birthday boy lounges.

Junho has an even more youthful face than Seokjin does. Where Seokjin’s features exude class and charm, Junho appears mischievous and looks to have stepped out of every girl’s bad boy dream.

You stop Seokjin with a tug and make him look at you. “Tell me: do I look like a passable birthday offering?”

Seokjin rolls his eyes and pulls you along with him.

“Jin!” Junho hollers loudly across the room when spotting his oldest friend. There is a doll-like female magnetized to his side. “This is Clara, my date for the evening.”

Seokjin shakes her hand and greets them. The female cannot seem to pry her eyes away from this handsome new stranger. He introduces himself chivalrously to her as Junho sides up to you and grips your hands in his. His breath smells strongly of mixed drinks, and you know that in about fifteen minutes the entire night will be a blur for him.

“You must be Y/N!” he says excitedly, “Jin didn’t tell me that you were coming! What a surprise!”

“I am,” you greet back with a large smile. “Although I’m also surprised. Seokjin told me that you had insisted I came.”

Seokjin grits his teeth, annoyed at Junho. Would he ever learn when to keep his big mouth closed?

Laughing loudly, Junho grabs two drinks just as a waiter passes by and hands them to you. “Insist might be a strong word,” he says, drilling another hole unknowingly, “I honestly thought I’d have to play part-time wingman tonight. But I’m glad he’s got someone by his side.” He jabs you a little too hard in the ribs. “Next week’s gala is going to be fun! Okay, now there’s only one rule tonight: there are no rules!”

The four of you clink your glasses together, while you do your best to hide an embarrassed smile on behalf of the birthday boy.

“You bet I’m going around as your trophy wife tonight,” you whisper in Seokjin’s ear when Junho looks away.

He whirls around to look at you, the tip of both your noses impossibly close together. He can taste the acidity of the wine when you breath out with a wicked smile. He barely has time to stop you as you peel yourself away to mingle with the crowds.

Seokjin is about to follow you but Junho pulls him away, flamboyantly introducing his handsome best friend to a group of international models. He turns on his brightest smile, but his heart thunders in his chest at you calling yourself his wife.

...

You twirl around in your dress, nobody noticing the small splash of champagne on the front of it in the quickly changing lights.

“He bought this for me last week. Says it reminds him of the first night we met. Our eyes met across the waters in Tuscany where he was on a business trip. I’ll let you on a little secret, but I was his mistress for a little while.”

Seokjin cannot make out the words you are saying to a small but growing group of people around you. He stands across from Junho, but looks over the latter’s shoulders to watch as you do another spin.

“A little while, Charlotte? Are you still his mistress?” an older lady with an exuberant amount of jewels hanging off her body whispers with a keen interest in your expertly spun story.

Charlotte Dior Laurent, an identity you are pretty sure is an amalgamation of French brands from the top of your mind. You continue to personify this character however.

“Don’t worry. He’s left her since. I know I know, my friends all say the same. ‘He’s already been divorced three times. How can you be sure he won’t leave you?’”

At this point, you are in way over your head at having told this story to at least two other groups and a multitude of other renditions to whomever you have met tonight. But there is something powerful about liquid courage as it courses through your body.

The lady lays a hand on your arm. “I don’t want your heart to break. You are still young.”

Looking up between the heads of your audience, you catch Seokjin’s eyes. They are fiery and it sends a strange sensation up your toes to your abdomen. You give a titillating wave at him in which he does not return.

“He says I’m special and different. How can you say no to that?” you exclaim with exasperation, fully committing to the poor damsel just oh-so in love.

There is a look of genuine concern on the lady’s face at your statement.

Before you can dig yourself a deeper hole, you place your empty glass on the table and excuse yourself. You do not know if it’s the drinking on a relatively empty stomach or if the room is really much warmer due to the multitude of bodies, but you head out to the balcony.

On your way out, you notice that the clock reads twenty minutes past midnight. This gives you a shock at how fast time has passed. Perhaps you should go find Seokjin if you are to get a decent amount of sleep before meeting with Taehyung and Jimin tomorrow. Speaking of Taehyung…

You pull out your phone and see that there are two unread messages. The first is from Jimin, confirming that he is indeed invited to brunch tomorrow morning. The second is a response from Taehyung.

11:09pm “Wow. You have me a little lost for words. I had imagined you’d look nice in the dress but… You really are beautiful.”

Smiling, you type in your response.

12:21am “Thanks, Tae. You’re up late.” You take a picture of the earrings Seokjin had gifted you and attach it to the message. “What do you think of these?”

Barely have you returned your phone into your bag when it buzzes again. This time you receive an attached image. Taehyung seems to be sitting in front of a monitor, as his face glows with a blue light and contorted into a pensive furrow of his brows.

12:21am “A little different from your usual style. Are they new? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear those.”

12:21am “Fei’s out with some friends tonight. She likes when I wait for her to come back before I sleep. To make sure she’s safe, I guess.”

12:22am “Pooey. I should’ve brought you as my plus-one 😩. Also, Seokjin bought them for me for tonight. He says my other earrings are too gaudy.”

12:24am “First name basis 🙃”

12:25am “How is your night going? Having fun?”

You are about give Taehyung a call for a detailed recounting of tonight’s escapades when someone speaks out from within the shadows.

“A penny for your thoughts?” He walks into the moonlight. You flush, meeting the eyes of this particularly dashing gentleman, the phonecall immediately forgotten.

Oh, Alcohol, you make even the smartest of people do dumb shit. And right now, your effects are even worse on this idiot.

Your mouth hangs slightly open as you watch him puff out smoke from his cigar and offer it to you. He brushes up beside you, his fingers trailing up your hand which grips the balcony. You cannot seem to break away from his gaze.

“Lung cancer has an increasing incidence rate particularly for females due to smoking. Are you sure you want to be condoning this type of behaviour?” Seokjin interjects himself between you and your Tuxedo Mask, pushing the outstretched cigar back towards its owner.

There is a small stare down amongst the two men before the latter quietly exits the stage. Your eyes continue to linger on him even as he walks towards another female alone in the night enjoying the outdoor breeze.

“You’ve just ruined by chance. I could have seduced then blackmailed him with the story of his illegitimate child to play Black Widow,” you whine.

Seokjin takes the glass that had somehow magically appeared in your hand during the short walk from inside to outside on the balcony.

“How many have you had since we came?” he asks.

You sigh wistfully, still in your dangerous daydream. “I don’t know. I’ve lost count.” You turn your attention back to him eventually. “What are you doing here? Did you see me with him and get all jealous, hubby?” you tease.

He scoffs, drinking from your glass and pulling a face. Once again, there is that twist and jump within his chest, but he attributes it to whatever nasty concoction he had just ingested. He pours its contents over the railing and into whatever shrubbery lies below. “You seriously went with being my trophy wife?”

You shrug. “Of sorts. You’d better be right about people being too drunk slash not caring about me enough after tonight to remember the things I’ve said. ‘Cuz you’ve been divorced three times, had me along with another as your mistress, I think you’ve sired a few illegitimate children and all in all, a Games of Throne life. Damn, maybe I made you a little too badass.”

“You’re having water for the rest of the night,” he says.

You glare at him, contemplating on making a remark about his equally flushed face but decide against it. Instead, you lean onto the balcony and give a cat stretch. A large sigh escapes from you.

Wordlessly, he shakes off his jacket and places it around your shoulder all the while averting his gaze on the unblemished skin of your upper thighs that had been exposed from your previous movement.

Your blood feels like liquid fire coursing through your veins. Feeling overheated even in the evening breeze, you give him back his jacket. You note his reluctance to meet you even as you throw what could be a thousand dollar jacket in the air to him. “So what’s it like to live like this every day?” you say in wonder. You feel said breeze return and lean over the balcony to catch its chill.

“Like what?” he asks. The warm summer night’s breeze blows through, settling his hair in a childish tousle.

“Like rich,” you say. You sigh again. “Believe it or not, I’m the same age as your birthday boy best friend.

And everything feels absolutely unreal right now. If I hadn’t agreed to come here tonight with you, I’d probably be at another dingy bar knocking back shots with my brother and friend.”

“Are you a secret alcoholic?”

You glare at him. “No,” you state matter-of-factly. “As I was trying to share, this type of lifestyle is something I could ever only imagine. I’m not ungrateful about spending time with them, but at the end of the night I’d go home, sweaty, drunk and gross, and then simply pass out. My bank account might be a couple hundred bucks lighter. Come Monday I’ll be working my ass off just to earn back what I had spent. Then cue the repeating cycle.”

Resting your chin on your palm, your other hand sweeps your hair back behind your ear.

“It’s amazing the difference a few life choices can have.”

Seokjin remains silent beside you. Truthfully, he is at a loss of words. The moonlight plays across your face and caresses your nose down to your lips. You are arching your back once again to pull away the soreness that comes with wearing high heel the entire night. It is just a simple black dress but on you it made you look –

“Well, you’re Mrs. Kim tonight,” he starts.

“Charlotte Dior Laurent,” you correct him.

He raises an eyebrow. “Okay… Ms. Charlotte Dior Laurent. Tonight you get to live like the rich, as you’ve put it. As a rich person, what would you like to do?”

You ponder his question a few moments for the answer. “Hmm…I think I’d like to play golf. It’s a rich person’s sport. I want to play it on a private golf course, wearing cute golfing outfits and talk about million-dollar deals with a client without a care in the world. I want to order sangria by the gallon.”

He laughs out loud. It takes a while for him to be able to speak again, but when he does you feel as if the night has been illuminated a few degrees brighter. “I personally don’t have a private golf course, but Junho does here in his backyard if you’re up for it. I can’t promise cute golfing outfits so you’ll have to do with your wine stained dress. And if you’re really up for it I can pretend to make business deals with you, that’s my job anyways.”

You grin, taking the hand he has offered you. “Call.” The two of you shake upon his suggestion.

As he is leads you by the hand towards the dim gates of said golf course, you tug at him gently. “There’s something missing…” you say.

He shakes his head and pulls you back in towards the party room.

“I’ll see what they have at the bar.”

...

As the hands of the clock continue to spin past another hour, the summer night takes a chilly turn. Seokjin has lent you his jacket but even that cannot stop your fingers from becoming numb. Your hands shake even as they tightly hold the golf club. Seokjin watches you in silence as you prepare to hit the golf ball, a beer in one hand and a few opened bottles littered on the grass beside him. The club hits the ball with a resounding “cling” but does little in propelling it a few centimeters.

“This one doesn’t count,” you announce, “It’s too dark to see anything here.”

Seokjin takes a swig as you readjust your position. You sway in the wind and the last tendrils of your hair come undone in its half up half down hairdo. Your hair now whips wildly around your face when another gust blows through.

“Shit!” you exclaim, missing the ball again. “Why is golfing so hard?!”

You throw your club down and trudge to Seokjin. The six pack the two of you had been sharing has officially been depleted. Seokjin offers you his half empty bottle. This time, you are the one watching as he goes to your spot and effortlessly swings his target into the darkness.

He smirks from the spot.

You grumble. “You’ve had years of practice. Not fair.”

“You’ve got to do better than that, Mrs. Johnson,” he says, teasing you.

Your grumble becomes more audible. You place the now empty bottle on the ground and cross your arms against your chest. Since telling him of your other American alias from tonight, he has not ceased to remind you of your strange choice of name.

“Just so you know, Mrs. Johnson can afford both an affair and the consequential prenup,” you huff.

“It’s still a stupid last name.”

“It’s an American multinational corporation with an income in the billions, okay?”

“Keep telling yourself that if it makes you sleep better at night. Now come on, I’ve got one last ball. Take a swing.”

Groaning, you shuffle over. You wish you had not suggested golf. You had never been good at sports anyways – bad hand-eye coordination.

He stands beside you this time, scrutinizing your every movement with hawk-like eyes. “No, not like that,” he says, “Have a wider stance and bend your knees. Better centre of gravity gives you a better swing. Also hold it with a neutral grip.”

You readjust your positioning following his instructions.

“Index finger down the center. Good. And three knuckles on each hand. No, that’s two. Okay your hands are just weird now. Three. I said three.”

“Stop standing there and show me then, Mr. Know-It-All,” you say, your patience in this makeshift lesson also coming to an end.

He walks closer to you, reaching out for the golf club. He retracts his hands in seeing that you have yet to let go. “You got to – ”

“You can touch me. I did tell you that Mrs. Johnson can afford an affair and prenup. Besides, I’m not going to be able to learn anything if I can’t even see you in this dark.”

He comes behind you and puts a foot between yours to guide your stance. Wrapping his arms around you, he fixes the placement of your hands to grip the shaft of the club in the way he had previously instructed.

Perhaps it is the mixture of wine, champagne and beer offered tonight, but being enveloped in the warmth of this embrace intoxicates you. The tingles that are sent down from his soft breathing on the base of your neck, make you shake like a leaf in the wind.

He inhales the sweet undertones of your perfume. The tendrils of your hair brush against his collarbone, sending a sensual kiss onto his skin. Unconsciously, he draws you closer to him, shielding you from another gust.

“Now you just want to swing,” he says, the words a mixture of a whisper and guttural grunt. His chest rumbles with it, passing the vibration through to your back.

You remain as still as a statue and lean ever so slightly back into him until your entire backside is pressed upon him.

You can’t stop yourself as you ask him, “Do you want to have sex with me?”

...

157 notes · View notes

saphirered · 3 years ago

Note

I’m in love with your writing and binged your entire page one night lol

Could I request a story with Caleb where the M9 find a wounded reader on the run from people who want to use her for her very powerful magical abilities. She doesn’t trust Caleb at first because he’s a wizard and just as she opens up to him and starts to develop feelings discovers he has been studying her powers - thought with no bad intentions. Some good old angsty enemies to lovers type of beat. Preferably with a good ending but do what you wish ;))

Apparently I'm giving you more stuff to binge as this is looking more and more like a several parter 😅. Prepare for loads of angst and conflict and some good hurt/comfort to come but for now, here comes part 1! 😘

Nobody pays attention to a vagrant dressed in rags, looking about a week past their last proper bath begging on the side of the road for money or standing by a shop, mouth watering at the food. Nobody pays attention to what they don’t want to see in their pristine cities. Not unless they want to chase you away because you’re in their way or you’re tarnishing their image. Speaking about image, sometimes some rich folk will take pity upon you, casting a coin your way to make themselves look good and generous in the eyes of others.

That’s exactly what you became when you needed to disappear. You needed to become unseen, unnoticed and a shadow among a crowd. You succeed casting away all remainders of your previous life because in the end, your life is worth more to you than your earthly possessions. Survival above all. You’ll live this way until you can get somewhere where no one will question you, or where you’ll be under the protection of others, far away where your enemies cannot reach you. Maybe Vasselheim is a good place to go? They’re not fond of the arcane magics. Sure you’ll have to give up using some of your own gifts but it’s worth being able to live your life freely.

You’re still a ways away from Vasselheim and you don’t have the funds to get there yet. Even if you make it to a port, stowing away on a ship is fine but you can’t trust them to not throw you overboard or leave you stranded at the nearest island to save provisions. And that’s if they don’t hand you over to any authorities and risk you getting back to square one. You’ll have to wander around Wildemount until you’re able to book passage or find somewhere to lay low, forever on the move. It’s not the worst and you get used to it pretty quickly.

Weren’t you lucky when you saw the recent champions of the Victory Pit were strolling around town flaunting their winnings. You need food. You need warm clothes. And most of all, you could do with some extra change in your pocket. You wouldn’t be stupid enough to steal all of it of course. Just enough to get by and they wouldn’t notice. So you trail them, sticking to the shadows. They don’t seem to notice you.

Then you struck. You got the coin pouch from the ostentatious one. It was child’s play really. He didn’t even notice you lifting the pouch from his belt when you brushed against his shoulder muttering an apology. You were already amidst the crowd when you heard the tiefling exclaim his coin pouch was gone and he put two and two together quickly, the charlatan he is so before you knew it they were on the lookout for someone fitting your description. You had to move quick, buy your necessities and get out of the market. You know just the place to hide out; the Evening Nip. Nobody asks questions there.

Once you found yourself safely sipping on the shitty ale served at the Evening Nip you didn’t expect the colourful group of strangers to stroll in. It was already too late when you spotted them and you had no where to go. Still your quickly gathered up the coin back into the ornate velvet pouch and put it in your own pocket hidden beneath the layers of your clothes putting your hands behind your back as you tried to make a break for the exit. They did not let you pass, a relatively buff looking woman gripping the handle of her sword stepping in front of you while another one, though shorter blocked your escape by interposing her staff.

“No funny business, friend. You have something that belongs to my companion here, and he wants it back.” The half-orc speaks as you grit your teeth. You’d really hoped to avoid this but you weren’t stupid enough to bring out the big artillery… yet… so you lift your hands in surrender and allow them to lead you over to one of the tables taking a seat of your own accord while you’re flanked by the buff woman on one side, the purple tiefling on the other and the rest of them takes up seating of their own around the table keeping an eye on you.

“Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way…” The half-orc leads as the tiefling next to you holds out his hand brushing his other over your shoulder in a soft push, mimicking what you had done when you pickpocketed him. Are they mocking you? Bastards.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, friend.” You speak innocently. You know they won’t buy it anyway, their minds already made up, but it gives you just a second more to get a grasp on all of them. You’re already plotting your escape, despite the odds being turned against you. You have to try.

“Oh, I think you do, and we simply want a conversation. You wouldn’t want to tarnish this new friendship now would you?” The tiefling grins as you look at him. You can feel the strings of enchantment pricking into your mind but you know how this works. You’ll just have to play along. You smile, like being faced with an old friend, just as the spell would have you have, letting your defensive mannerism fade.

“You’re quite right. It’s no way to treat new friends. Let’s not get off on the wrong foot.” You glance between all of them and you feel a pair of blue eyes stare into you, right through you. There’s just something about him that doesn’t add up and you’re almost afraid he knows you’re not under the tiefling’s spell after all but you do whatever you can to not show that on your face and play along.

“Should we get some drinks to commemorate new friends?” You suggest about to get up but the woman in blue’s staff moves across the table right onto your shoulder urging you to stay in place. You don’t look fazed and merely amused with this action as if it is a harmless joke and not a threat. The tiefling moves the staff from your shoulder as you turn your attention back to him as he smiles.

“I think that’s an absolutely wonderful idea. Drinks on me.” He stands with you and begins leading you over to the bar. Clive takes the order and begins pouring the ale as requested while the tiefling keeps conversation with you, completely oblivious and detached from his friends. You play along and when you reach to the coin pouch, you pull out the coins owed to the barkeep. The tiefling smiles and you can see from your peripheral the red head notices too. Both confirm you have the coin pouch. So once you pay you reach for your pocket grasping for a short iron rod placing it in your hand, whispering words under your breath as the tiefling talks to the barkeep, your hands begin to move according to the familiar motions and before the redhead can warn his lavender companion, the tiefling is frozen in place unable to move and you’re making a break for the door.

Spells fly left and right and you dodge a few, take the damage from others as the fighters dependant on close range rush for you. A crossbow bolt hits your thigh and a large cat’s claw appears in front of you. You try to dodge it reaching for you but it catches you and holds you in place despite your struggling to get free. They circle you, bind your hands, take back the coin pouch and your own limited belongings from you as you fight back trying to keep them away from you but you’re just alone and they are the many.

You feel helpless and desperate. That’s when you make eye contact with the blue eyed wizard. There’s a look of recognition in his eyes. Not for who you are directly, but the way you’re acting and lashing out, like some caged animal wishing desperately to be free, like a creature on the run, like you’re two sides of the same coin. His eyes reveal to you pain and suffering and pity but you don’t need his pity. You don’t need anyone’s pity.

“Why did you steal that coin?” The wizard asks as you glare at him from your seated position on the ground.

“Why does anybody steal anything? I’m hungry. I’m cold and I’m broke as hell.” You spit none too kindly.

“Then get a job. Make some money. Or at least learn to be a good thief.” The rude woman snorts. You roll your eyes. Typical. You know plenty of people like her, maybe you even used to be like her but not anymore. You grew out of that the hard way. She will too, in time.

“None of you noticed until you went to pay for something.” You grin and the woman is about to lunge for you at your provocation. So easy to piss that one off. Funny, actually.

“I don’t think she can just get a job. Not a regular one anyway.” The wizard observes as he stares into you. “You don’t have anywhere to go, do you?” Your silence, biting your lip says enough. You don’t have anywhere to go. Once you did but that’s gone. Torn away from you.

“How about this? You spent a good deal of my friend’s coin but we’ll give you the opportunity to make it back as a repayment. Stick around for a little bit and go our separate ways when the debt is repaid?” There’s some protests but the half-orc quiets them down when the wizard speaks up in your favour. He doesn’t trust you, not after the stunts you just pulled, especially not when the look on your face mirrors his own so closely but perhaps it’s something within him that calls to him to make right a wrong, or prevent another soul to be lost to the troubles he’s faced.

With these idiots bound to make a scene they’ll call attention to themselves and by default that means away from you. This might work in your favour. They’re adventurers and given that they seem somewhat familiar with the Evening Nip, you can only assume they’re not exactly always on the right side of the law. You’re not judging but that gives you some safety and assurance should things go south or you need a quick way out. And if things really do turn in your favour, they’ll be your cover to places and funds to get you far far away from this hell hole.

“Looks like you got yourselves a new companion then, friends.” You don’t smile, only displaying an expression so neutral that makes the wizard think for a second he might have made a mistake but for now you have mutual interests and if there’s anything he can count on, it’s the reliability of a common goal, and a lot to lose should you get outed.

So next you know, you’re somewhat absorbed into their little group, learning their names and where they’re from, chatting happily but you can’t help but notice that yours and Caleb’s stories are similar in some ways, mostly the lack of detail. You’ve been raised within the Empire, but found yourself on a less fortunate path fending for yourself. The only difference between you and him is that he found Nott on his path while you had remained alone. The group didn’t seem to mind your lack of details, going with the excuse you’re not about to bare your life story to the people you only just met and you’re lucky. You hadn’t told anyone what happened since you’ve been on the run and you don’t plan on doing so anytime soon, especially not to people who haven’t earned your trust yet.

Of course you’ve been roomed with Caleb and Nott, finding yourself in one of the most expensive inns in the city, paid for by the group. Unlike Nott, who goes through your stuff when she thinks you’re not looking, Caleb is the perfect roommate. He doesn’t cross any boundaries, ask too many questions or has any annoying habits. He just reclines on his bed, going through his spellbook, transcribing new spells to add to his own collection. Every time he does you get extremely uneasy and snappy and do whatever you can to not be in the same space as the wizard. It doesn’t do your roommate relationship any good and may leave you at odds at times. Caleb may not understand why but it’s not his place to ask questions, nor does he think you’ll actually answer them. Instead you make up excuses, helping Beau with training, letting Jester braid your hair, keeping Fjord company while Molly claims their room for one of his escapades, getting some booze for Nott, or when Yasha is there, watch the storms with the woman, anything to get you out of that shared room with the wizard.

————

Rain hits the window of your room in the Pillow Trove as the redheaded wizard strolls in throwing his backpack on his bed and sitting down with a deep sigh. You look up over the edge of the book you’re reading seeing the wizard soaked through the bone wringing out his hair best he can. With a wave of your hand and words uttered under your breath you grin as the water evaporates from Caleb’s form, leaving his hair slightly more curly and frizzy, and his clothes warm and comfy. He gives you a look as you continue reading as if you’re completely unaware of anything going on in the room, completely absorbed into your book. Ignoring Caleb.

“I didn’t take you for the type that reads smutty romance novels.” He comments and gestures towards Courting of the Crick. You finally look at Caleb as if he only just gained your attention, as if you’re only just aware of his presence in the room. Both of you know better but this is how it is.

“You wouldn’t. But according to Jester you enjoy them very much.” You grin, having gotten to hear all about their little trip to the Chastity’s Nook. Caleb gives you a disapproving look as he begins to unpack his things, taking out the fresh ink and paper, setting out his spellbook and you mark your page, putting the book on your side table as you quickly get up and go for the door.

“Where are you off to all of the sudden?” Caleb asks as you grit your teeth. Can he not just leave you alone? Does he really trust you so little you’re not allowed to leave of your own accord?

“I’m going to see Jester and Beau in their room. Now I will bid you good day unless you think I need an escort for the room two doors down.” You snap. Okay, that may have been unnecessary. You could have at least been neutral. Too late for that now. Caleb waves his and as if dismissing you. Act like a child, get treated like a child. So you leave the room letting the door fall closed a little harder than you normally would in protest and make your way over towards Beau and Jester’s room.

Jester, happily lets you in and while Beau has definitely warmed up to you, things are still rocky. She wouldn’t go as far as calling you a friend, but more that one neighbourhood kid her parents tried to get her to play with despite the two of you never really having been friends at all. At least you can bond over your slightly criminal tendencies. It’s Jester who’s completely accepted you as one of her own, questioning you about anything and everything, preaching to you about the Traveler, gushing about her romance novels, specifically Oskar, which you’re pretty sure is actually reflecting her major crush on Fjord but let the girl dream. Who knows what will come of it?

#critical role x reader #critrole x reader #mighty nein x reader #caleb widogast x reader #caleb x reader #critical role #mighty nein

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justcourttee · 4 years ago

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could you do another fic where mari has too many overprotective relatives (batfam, jason in particular, adrien, luka, kagami, chloe, jagged, bruce, penny, clara, tony stark and the avengers maybe lol) and all the boys who want to date her are scared away by them until she starts seeing damian or someone else i love your writing and thanks! ♡♡

I loved this prompt immediately and I really hope I did it justice! Hope you like it!

The Never-Ending Cycle of First Dates

“No! Wait! He’s just kidding!” Marinette ran out of the building trying to grab the boy's hand before he could escape, but she was too late. Her hand slapped her forehead in defeat as yet another man hurried off before they could even order drinks. Turning her attention to where her target stood, she couldn’t help the bubbling anger directed at his smirk.

“Why must you ruin every date? It’s like you guys have a pool of names and you just reach in and see who's in luck to scare off the next guy that tries to date me!” She threw her hands into the air, only earning a chuckle.

“C’mon Princess, if the man can’t handle a little threat then how is he gonna stick around for the long term? Hmm?”

Marinette wanted to argue, but she knew it was pointless. Jason and the others were firm in their beliefs; Marinette must be protected from heartbreak at all costs. She tried arguing with them that if she never got hurt in the first place then she could never learn, but alas, her words seemed to fall on deaf ears.

“How did you even find us?”

Jason’s smirk widened which only fueled her rage.

“What? You thought meeting at the restaurant would actually change anything? I can find you anywhere and everywhere. Plus Adrien totally snitched.”

Marinette made a mental note to lay into Adrien later after she found the poor kid that Jason scared of.

“One day I’m going to find someone who isn’t scared by you lot and he’s gonna make it through the first date.”

She turned her back on Jason’s boisterous laughter. She was determined to prove her point. After all, there had to be one man in Gotham City that wasn’t afraid of her, right? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . The rest of her week had gone as smoothly as Monday had to say the least.

Tuesday’s date was crashed by Kagami’s foil. One look at her slicing the bread and he didn’t even make it to the table.

Wednesday’s date was a double date with Luka and Chloe. Marinette begged Tikki to lend her a little luck, but the small God would do no such thing. At least this guy made it past drinks. Marinette almost cheered until Luka donned his infamous stare. She watched as her date squirmed uncomfortably before excusing himself for the bathroom, never returning.

Thursday’s date ended with the man strung up by his ankles, none other than Nightwing and Red Robin dropping in to apologize, claiming they thought he was trying to mug her.

By Friday, she was ready to cancel her date before it even began.

“Adrien, you guys are making it impossible to even think about dating.” She collapsed on the couch, letting out a small whine.

“I think that’s kind of the point Mari, besides, you’re a working woman now, shouldn’t you be focusing on your career-”

Adrien paused as his eyes narrowed in on Marinette’s hand mocking his lecture. Her hand paused as she noticed his now silent voice. Meeting his eyes, she simply shrugged.

“You sound like my mom. She’s worried that I’m too worried about dating but guess what? I kind of missed out on that experience in high school pining after a guy who wasn’t even interested!”

They both chuckled as they remembered the awkward dance they both did from the time they were 13.

“So what are you going to do about the date tonight?”

Marinette shrugged once more as she pulled at a piece of her hair, twirling it around her finger.

“Who is on date duty tonight?”

“First of all, it’s not called date duty,” he waved off the pointed look Marinette gave him before continuing, “and it was supposed to be Jagged and Penny but in case they fail, Tony is on backup duty and Jason is on backup, backup duty.”

“Not date duty my ass.”

Marinette sighed longingly as she pulled herself into a sitting position.

“I’m giving this one more chance before I swear off dating forever.”

Adrien chuckled before offering his hand to pull her into a standing position.

“Well, guess you better prepare to look good. After all, they always say if you’re gonna go out, at least do it in style.”

Marinette rolled her eyes as she pushed Adrien to the couch, ignoring his protests. If this was going to be her last date, then maybe he had a point of going out in style.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Marinette pulled at her dress nervously as a black limo approached her outside of her apartment. She had checked the perimeter once as Marinette and once more as Ladybug; there was no sign of Jagged or Penny. Somehow though, that didn’t calm her nerves.

As the limo pulled to a stop, a man stepped out of the back seat causing her breath to hitch in her throat. As if him being drop-dead gorgeous wasn’t enough, her worst fears stepped out from behind him, wide grins on their faces.

“Oi, there she is Penny! Marinette, we tried calling you but you sent us straight to voicemail, that wasn’t very rock n’ roll of you. Luckily, this nice man right here was there to give us a ride, right Penny?”

Penny nodded sweetly as if the two of them were innocent victims of Marinette’s forgetfulness. She wanted to turn right back into her apartment and never leave again, but a small hand grasped hers, pulling it up to their lips, as soft and gentle as his movements.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I have heard many stories of you from my brothers and father. You seem to have impressed many powerful people such as the two strays I picked up off the streets earlier.”

His smile was playful as it coaxed a small laugh from her. It helped even more to see Jagged panicking in the background at the sight of the small gesture. This man, no, his name was Damian. Damian had already broken through the first wall without even knowing it. Marinette let herself feel a spark of hope at the thought of finally making it through a first date.

“Anywho, now that we have arrived, I must apologize for leaving you two here, how does the saying go? ‘High and dry?’ but I do have a date to continue.” He nodded to Penny and Jagged leaving them both with their jaws almost touching the ground.

If she had a moment, Marinette might’ve taken a photo, but she instead quickly grabbed Damian’s arm, shutting the limo door before either could protest. She didn’t bother to release the breath she had been holding until the apartments were gone from the rearview mirror.

“I am so sorry about them, they-” she tried to let the apology spill out of her mouth but Damian simply shook his head, that same playful smile monopolizing his face.

“I am fully aware of the so-called ‘date duty’ your friends have. After all, my brother is in charge of the scheduling.”

It was Marinette’s turn for her jaw to drop. This was Jason’s brother? The literal spawn of satan as Jason had put it. There was no way. He was so nice, and such a gentleman, there was no way they could be the same person.

“How come nobody ever told me you were in town? Last time Jason introduced me to the family, he made sure to wait for when you left on a business trip. I’ve only ever been invited over when you’re not there!”

Damian chuckled as if this was a normal occurrence.

“They knew I had a crush on you ever since I watched your alter ego take down an akuma three times your size. It was only a matter of time until I asked you out, but with Jason observing your every date, he made it quite difficult.”

Marinette felt her face flush as his words washed over her. A man that was actually interested in her and was willing to take on the trouble a date with her could mean? She lightly pinched herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.

“You know it’s only going to get worse from here right? Like, Jagged and Penny were only the first round worse.”

Damian leaned in, placing his hand overtop hers, that smile of his killing her slowly.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

Marinette nodded as she leaned closer, nearly closing the gap between them, her heart racing from the distance.

“I borrowed his rotation schedule and have prepared for every incident that could occur tonight.”

Marinette couldn’t help the words that slipped out of her mouth.

“I think I might love you.” Immediately she slapped her hand over her mouth letting out a string of apologies as she scooched away from the red-faced man. He cleared his throat, trying to overcome his shock as his smile pulled into a small smirk.

“Don’t apologize, just tell me again if you feel the same after we’ve finished the date.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Somehow, they managed to make it through dinner without a single hiccup. It was suspicious, but she was having too good of a time to care. She fell in love immediately with his animals as he showed off his many photos, commenting on whichever one seemed to make her melt the most.

They talked about where they had gone to college, where they were working now and what they were hoping for their futures. Marinette felt her heart swell with excitement for how compatible they were, it almost made tonight ending that much more painful.

As they stepped out of the restaurant, Marinette heard a familiar voice that made her blood run cold.

“Do you know who I am? I could buy this whole place and then you’d have to let me in! I’m the damn Ironman, doesn’t that count for something?”

The poor hostess was shaking her head, trying to apologize to the other guests for the wait he was causing. Marinette let out a defeated sigh as she took a step forward to intervene, but Damian’s hand intertwined with hers pulling her in the opposite direction.

“There aren’t too many places in Gotham City that Tony Stark isn’t banned from. However, you can thank my father for that. He agreed for me to host my dinner at his restaurant to nullify backup number 2, Tony Stark.”

Marinette almost wanted to laugh at the irony of a billionaire being banned from a small Italian restaurant in Gotham.

“There’s not much that Uncle Tony can’t fix by throwing money at it, but I suppose that’s pointless when it’s another billionaire causing the said problem.”

Damian sent her a wink that warmed her to her core. They decided to ditch the limo in favor of walking home, spending more time with each other coincidentally. Marinette felt her mind racing like she was in middle school once again planning her imaginary wedding and their future hamster.

He was everything she had hoped to find in a man and so much more. She honestly regretted not meeting him sooner, it would’ve saved her so much trouble over the years.

She opened her mouth, only to close it immediately as her eyes narrowed in on a figure leaning against her apartment building.

“Jason, what are you doing here? There’s no date to ruin now and I finally found a guy who can’t be scared off by your stupid date duty.”

She crossed her arms in defiance but Jason paid her no mind.

“Damian, I didn’t know you were home so soon. I would’ve locked you up in the Batcave to make sure this would’ve never happened.”

Damian scoffed beside her as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

“As if you could.”

The two men were locked in a staredown, leaving Marinette to wilt in the tension that had formed. She moved towards her apartment, only to be stopped by Damian’s hand for the third time tonight.

Turning her back to Jason, she watched as he brought her hand to his lips, his kiss still as gentle and soft as the first when he had given her hours earlier. She ignored Jason’s protest as she pulled his hand forward placing a quick peck on his lips.

The man’s face matched her own in shades of red.

“Does this mean you would be interested in a second date?”

Marinette nodded furiously before waving him goodnight, darting past Jason’s brooding figure.

“This is not the end of it Marinette!”

Jason’s threats felt empty compared to the excitement racing in her heart. She had finally broken the cycle of never-ending first dates and boy, did it feel good.

Permanent Tag List:

@damianette-is-life @ash-amg @rebecarojas07 @heaven428 @long-lost-peace @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @moongoddesskiana @nach0ava @iamablinkmarvelarmy

#daminette #maribat #miraculous ladybug

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gamerwoo · 4 years ago

Text

[Tales from the Pack] Seungcheol: Stubborn (Bonus)

Characters: Seungcheol x female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, fantasy, fluff, smut during the second half (fingering/eating out, a lot of praise, just cheol being really soft, unprotected sex [remember to use condoms friends!!!], unintentional sorta exhibitionism?????)

Word count: 4,544

Summary: You’ve heard the stories your relatives told you about werewolves when you were younger, but you always thought it was just a scare tactic to make kids behave. Well, up until you woke up in a den full of werewolves.

a/n: this part takes place further into the future during seungkwan’s part, and since it contains spoilers for the future, i recommend skipping this and reading up to part 8 of seungkwan’s series, and then coming back when you’re done!!

Previous | Stubborn Masterlist | TftP Masterlist

Maybe it was because everyone was on-edge about Seungkwan’s condition that was rapidly decreasing. Maybe it was because everybody was still a bit shaken up over Eunjin being what she was. But something was making your old habits of being a thief kick in. You hid in shadows, snuck around the house, and came and went like the wind. Hardly anybody saw you, including your mate.

You weren’t avoiding Seungcheol, not at all. You were just uncomfortable, and that made you want to stay hidden. You assumed it was the tension in the house, but you just didn’t want to be seen, heard, or noticed. Unfortunately, this also happened to effect Seungcheol who now usually had to sniff you out or simply follow the imprinting pull.

The last couple weeks, though, Seungcheol had gotten down your typical hiding places – although, he did almost trip over you while trying to find you because you were crouched down behind the counter while you sharpened the kitchen knives for fun. Today, though, he found you upstairs in Seokmin’s room.

Seokmin was a very positive person in the pack, and all he wanted was for everybody to get along. But because things weren’t working out between Seungkwan and Eunjin and there was nothing he could do, he typically hid away in his room and kept himself busy with reading or singing to keep his mind off of it. But today, you were hanging out with him while he tried to practice his weather power since he hadn’t intentionally used it before. It was only during those nights he had nightmares when it was developing that he’d used it -- but he didn’t even know it was him doing it -- and the few days he was first coping with the situation with Seungkwan. But none of those instances were intentional, so he wanted to hone in on his new power.

“Does it change the weather in town or just in our little area?” you wondered as Seokmin stared out the window, holding his hand out palm-up as his fingers slowly curled inward. Clouds started forming in the blue sky, turning it a grey color.

“I don’t really know,” Seokmin said absentmindedly as he watched the weather start to change at his own will. He suddenly looked over at you with a warm grin. “Do you like snow?”

You frowned, shaking your head. As a thief, you only had bad memories with snow. You didn’t really have a place of your own before, so you associated snow with being cold and struggling for the next few months. Sure, it was kind of pretty, but you never actually enjoyed it.

“What, really?” he asked, surprised that you didn’t like it. “Why not?”

“I was always stuck outside in the cold,” you said with a small pout, looking away from Seokmin and at the familiar grey sky that indicated snow coming.

Seokmin just smiled, “Don’t worry, I’ll show you how to enjoy it.”

“You’re really going to make it snow?”

“Just here – I think…”

Soon enough, little snowflakes began to fall from the sky. All you could do was frown as you watched, dreading when it would start accumulating. You knew you could just come back inside when you got too cold, but it was just the bad memories that were dragging you down.

You heard a soft knock at the door before you heard it open with a very quiet creak. You didn’t even have to turn around to guess who it was.

“What’re you two doing?” Seungcheol chuckled as he walked over to where the two of you were sitting on the floor, staring up at the window.

“Making snow,” Seokmin reported, letting his hand fall into his lap as he turned to look at the alpha. “You like snow, right, Seungcheol?”

Seungcheol shrugged as he crouched down behind and between the two of you, “Yeah, it’s fun – especially seeing the rest of you run around in it.”

Seokmin turned to you excitedly, “We shift and run around outside when it snows. The pack loves it.”

You just nodded, mumbling, “Good for you.”

“_____, do you not like snow?” Seungcheol wondered.

You shook your head in exaggerated movements to really get the point across. Seungcheol just smiled in amusement, putting a warm hand in the center of your back as he stroked it with his thumb.

“You can play with us in the snow tomorrow when it accumulates on the ground,” he suggested, “and if you hate it, I’ll bring you back inside and make you soup. Okay?”

You shrugged, mumbling an, “Okay…”

Thankfully for Seokmin, he didn’t have to sit there and constantly make the weather do what he wanted. Once he got it going, he didn’t have to do anything else until he wanted it to stop.

“C’mon,” Seungcheol stood before he helped you up, “I need to get food in you.”

“Are Mingyu and Danbi back from Jiung’s?” Seokmin wondered.

“You just want to play with Jiwoo,” he chuckled. “Yeah, they’re back.”

“Finally!” Seokmin grinned, hopping up from the floor.

The next morning, you were awoken by the sound of howling and excited yipping. You groaned and rolled onto your other side, burying your face in your pillow to drown it out. You felt Seungcheol’s arms encircle you and pull you to his chest, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head.

But then you heard Yeji from downstairs shriek excitedly, “There’s snow everywhere!”

Your eyes opened, staying narrowed. You were definitely awake now.

“Guess the pack saw Seokmin’s little surprise,” Seungcheol said, his voice raspy and deep from sleeping.

Everyone had obviously noticed the snow falling the day prior, but about a foot or two had accumulated quickly on the ground around the house. A few of the wolves had already run outside to play, but apparently some people had just woken up and noticed – and by some people, you meant your overly-excited sister.

Soon enough, you heard feet bolting down the hall before throwing open your bedroom door.

“Seungcheol!” Mingyu was panting. “Seokmin made it snow yesterday, and look outside!”

“I didn’t realize snow on the ground meant everyone forgot how to knock,” Seungcheol said as he sat up and stretched his arms above his head.

Mingyu blushed a bit even though he knew he wasn’t interrupting anything, “Sorry. Are you gonna come outside?”

“In a bit. Let me bundle up _____.”

“_____, we can have a snowball fight!” Mingyu gasped excitedly. “I bet you’ll be really good at it.”

You rolled over, looking up at Seungcheol, “Is that the thing kids do?”

Seungcheol chuckled, nodding his head, “Yes. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re all just very big children.”

After being put in five sweaters, two pairs of pants – one pair being yours and the other being Seungcheol’s just because he thought they might somehow be better for you – and a hat, Seungcheol brought you outside with him while he wore just a sweater and a pair of pants. You looked up at the sky, scrunching your face as snow hit your skin. Seungcheol chuckled as he watched, taking note of how beautiful you looked with fresh snow falling into your hair.

The entire pack was out in the yard, even little Jiwoo who was bundled up in multiple blankets and was being held on Minghao’s hip while her father was enjoying the snow. Most of the boys were in their wolf forms, running around, rolling in it, or trying to catch snowflakes in their mouths. Mingyu was rolling a ball of snow with his muzzle while he helped Danbi make a snowman. Minghao was softly talking to Jiwoo about how pretty the snow was as her large eyes looked around in wonder, it being the first time the young child had seen the white, fluffy stuff. Those of the pack in their human form were tossing snowballs at each other and others while they laughed loudly.

The only person who wasn’t playing in the snow – that you could see – was Joshua. He just said the last thing he wanted was to be pelted with cold things. You couldn’t say you disagreed with Josh.

“How is this fun?” you grumbled, looking back at Seungcheol as you blinked snowflakes off your eyelashes.

“Well just staring at it isn’t fun,” he told you. “Go make a snowman or a snow angel or–”

“_____!” you heard Chan call. You turned your head just in time to catch a snowball to the chest. You froze, staring at the same spot while the youngest giggled. “Come play with us!”

“Ah, maybe after she gets used to the snow, Chan,” Seungcheol told him pointedly as he grabbed your arms and pulled you over to where Wonwoo and Danbi were now making snow angels together. “Why don’t you stay with Wonwoo while I go get changed. He’ll make sure you don’t get hit with anything.”

Wonwoo nodded up at you from where he was squatting down on the ground, not even looking as he put up a hand to block the stray snowball coming his way. As soon as it splattered against the side of his arm, he let it down and looked back down at his sister on the ground.

“See? You’re in good hands,” Seungcheol grinned as he pressed a kiss to your temple before he went back into the house.

Mingyu, who was watching the siblings make snow angels, pressed his snow-covered nose against your cheek as he sniffed your face. Even that made you make a face and recoil away from him, shoving his furry face away.

“So,” Danbi sat up with snow in her hair, “you really have never played in the snow?”

Wonwoo chuckled at his sister as he began to brush the snow from her hair, saying, “Not everybody likes snow, Danbi. Lilly was allergic.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “How can somebody be allergic?”

“I believe the doctor in town called it cold urticaria.”

“Excuse me?”

Wonwoo just laughed softly, shaking his head.

Seungcheol came back outside quickly, but he was in his wolf form this time. He ran up to you and nuzzled into your hair happily, excited to be able to play outside with his brothers. You couldn’t help but laugh at how happy he was, but it stopped when he moved his nose to nudge you in the side, moving you closer to the chaos of the pack.

“Whoa, what?” you asked as your legs were forced to move forward. “Seungcheol, I didn’t agree to this!”

Still, your mate continued to move your forward so you could properly experience the snow. Of course, the pack noticed this and started to get even more excited. Soonyoung bounded over to you, skidding to a stop and kicking up snow.

The first thing Seungcheol tried to get you to try was making a snowman. He started by poking a snowball on the ground with his nose, nudging it around until it started to roll into a bigger ball. He looked up at you expectantly before he gestured to the growing ball with his head.

You huffed, “Seungcheol this shit is cold. I don’t want to touch it.”

He let out a huff of his own before pointing at the ball sharply with his nose.

You grumbled to yourself about how you didn’t want to, but you did it anyway. You bent down and began rolling the ball around until Seungcheol decided it was big enough to be a snowman base. Then he helped you make the middle and managed to maneuver it on top of the first ball with his muzzle. Then he let you make the head and put that on as well.

Yeji had ventured into the woods earlier with Hansol and Junhui to find pebbles on the ground since the property was completely covered in snow. So she gave you a few from her pocket for eyes and buttons. Then Seungcheol trotted over with a stick in his mouth and handed it to you. You very un-enthusiastically jammed it in the poor snowman’s face. Your fingers were numb, your nose and cheeks were red, and you just wanted to go inside and curl up under some blankets.

To add insult to injury, the wolves were playing too rough with each other, and Junhui skidded straight into your snowman, knocking it over and causing its snow body to splatter on the ground. Seungcheol looked down at the dead snowman body before he growled and leaped at the younger werewolf, wrestling with him for ruining your hard work.

You wished you were the snowman.

You walked into your bedroom with a towel still between your hands as you dried your hair, damp from the snow. However, when you walked into your room, Seungcheol was in there, still without clothes on. He had shifted back downstairs while you went to go get a towel to dry your hair, and now he was digging through drawers to find new clothes for the both of you.

This wasn’t the first time seeing Seungcheol naked. You’d taken showers and baths together plenty of times. But for some reason, your cheeks were heating up – and not just because you had been playing out in the snow.

You walked over to your mate – you knew he could hear you enter – and wrapped your arms around his waist, pressing your nose into his back to warm it while your hands clung to his toned stomach, making him shiver from how cold they felt.

“I feel like an ice cube,” you whined.

“Yeah, you do,” he chuckled. “Do you want me to warm you up?”

You nodded, your nose rubbing against his back. Except, you were thinking of other means of warming up than he was. Most of the pack was still playing outside anyway.

“Alright, let me just find some–”

“Seungcheol?” when you spoke this time, your voice was a lot smaller than it had been.

“Hmm?”

“Y-you don’t have to, like…put clothes on if, y’know…this is more comfortable…”

Seungcheol laughed softly, turning in your arms to face you. He cupped your face between his hands, eyebrows raised, “Is this your way of telling me you want to do something?”

You’d done things with Seungcheol before, sure. But you’d never actually had ‘proper’ sex with him before. It wasn’t that you were scared or didn’t know how, you just always felt a little uncomfortable knowing that the rest of the pack would be able to hear you. But now that they were all preoccupied outside…

You nodded, “I’m cold, it’s for my health.”

“_____, you’re not going to get hypothermia,” he laughed, rolling his eyes playfully. “What do you want me to do?”

“Well…” you began slowly, trying to ignore the heat that was now crawling to the tip of your ears, “I-I think I’m ready for marking.”

Seungcheol’s eyes widened, though he looked more surprised than afraid. The statement just took him off guard. You’d never even mentioned marking other than when you asked about how it worked and if the pain was bad, but you hadn’t mentioned it in a while.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his hands stroking up and down your arms. “You don’t need to feel pressured or anything.”

“Seungcheol, I really want to,” you insisted. “I love you and I want to be yours.”

“You are mine, with or without a mark,” he promised, a soft smile on his face as he placed the bend of his finger under your chin. “Look at Danbi and Mingyu – she wasn’t marked for a long time.”

“I promise, Cheol, I’m asking because I want it.”

Seungcheol nodded, “Okay. Then I’d be more than happy to mark you as mine.”

He smiled as he leaned down to press his lips to yours, softly and playfully at first but slowly growing in intensity and desperation. Your back hit the mattress, making both of you giggle as he toppled down on top of you, making sure to catch himself with his hands as to not actually crush you. But still, his lips never left yours.

“Guess it’s a good thing you don’t have all those layers on anymore,” he chuckled against your lips, one of his thumbs stroking your cheek that was still flushed from the cold.

Seungcheol sat up just enough to pull your shirt off over your head. He let his eyes scan over your body, a warm grumble resonating in his chest as his hands wandered over your soft skin, “You’re so beautiful, you know that?”

“Only because you never stop telling me,” you laughed softly, rolling your eyes.

“And I’ll never stop telling you,” he insisted before he was leaning down again to meet your lips.

His lips moved feverishly against yours like he couldn’t get enough of you. One hand cupped your cheek while the other held him up, his tongue pushing passed your lips to explore your mouth. Your arms were around him, fingers tangled in his hair to keep him as close as possible.

Seungcheol’s lips began to trail downward, leaving open-mouthed kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking on your skin on their way. His hands moved to take your bra off, unclipping it behind you before sliding the straps down. That was tossed off the side of the bed, Seungcheol not even paying attention to where he threw it.

His lips went to one of your nipples, one hand massaging the other and brushing your nipple with his thumb. You moaned out his name softly, arching your chest up as your eyes fluttered closed. His tongue flicked over the hardening bud, looking up at you as he did so to watch every little movement from your face.

Seungcheol’s mouth continued its decent, his hands also moving downward to pull off your bottoms and underwear. You lifted your hips to help, and then he tossed those off the bed to join your bra on the floor.

Now, Seungcheol was laid down on his stomach between your thighs, pushing your legs open to make room for him. Seungcheol had seen you like this before already but it didn’t stop the heat rushing to your cheeks or the urge to close your legs and hide from his eyes that were locked on your heat as the yellow began to dot red.

“So beautiful…” he whispered, brushing his index finger through your folds before teasing your slit.

You whimpered softly, covering your face from embarrassment.

Seungcheol chuckled seeing your expression, dipping his head closer to you, “You’re cute when you’re shy.”

You felt his tongue lick a stripe from your slit to your clit, and you bit your lip to keep from moaning. Your hands went to his dark hair as his lips wrapped around your clit and sucked lightly, flicking his tongue over the bundle of nerves. You already knew what Seungcheol’s tongue was capable of, and yet, it still took you by surprise.

“Don’t keep in those noises, baby,” Seungcheol cooed as he teased his finger at your entrance again. He slowly slid it in, smirking a little at the way you said his name in a quiet moan. “The pack is outside and they’re not paying any attention – nobody will hear you.”

He began pumping his finger slowly, curling it to reach all the spots he’d learned you liked while his lips and tongue worked on your clit. You let out a moan that was a little louder this time, your hips starting to grind up into Seungcheol.

He added a second finger, curling them the same way as he pressed his tongue flat against your clit and let you grind against his face, growling softly as your hands tugged at his hair. He started scissoring his fingers in you, stretching you out for what was to come once he decided you were prepped enough. For now, he just wanted to enjoy the soft moans and mewls that fell from your lips.

You felt a knot starting to tighten in your lower abdomen, so you started rocking your hips faster. Seungcheol noticed the signs of your incoming release – your hips speeding up, the way your eyebrows knitted together, the way your whines started to get higher – and removed his fingers, sitting up and away from you. Had you not known Seungcheol planned on giving you exactly what you wanted very soon, you would’ve never let him hear the end of your complaining.

You watched as Seungcheol stuck his two fingers in his mouth, lapping up your juices as he smirked at you with red eyes, “You taste so sweet, princess.”

“Cheol…” you whined, covering your face with your arms.

He just chuckled, leaning down above you to move your limbs away from your face, pressing a kiss to your lips. He kissed you softly for a moment as to try to get rid of any nervousness you might’ve had before he gripped his member, stroking it a few times to get it fully hard before he was teasing your folds with the tip. He smirked at the way your hips wiggled and bucked up slightly.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, all of the playfulness melting away, “Are you ready?”

You nodded, moving your hands to grip his shoulders.

“Just tell me if you want to stop, okay?”

You nodded again, so Seungcheol lined himself up with your entrance. Then he was slowly pushing into you, letting out a soft groan and an even softer “fuck” as his head dropped into your neck. Your fingers dug into his shoulders as he stretched you out, your eyes squeezing closed. It definitely hurt a little but but not enough for you to want him to stop.

Once he was completely inside, he stilled, his lips brushing across your neck in small kisses to help you relax. When you finally gave him the okay, he moved at a slow pace, trying to make sure you weren’t uncomfortable in any way. You’d done other intimate stuff but he’d never been inside you – and he knew you’d never had sex before – so he didn’t want to hurt you. He was even honored you trusted him with this.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” he hummed, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss as his hips continued to rock at a steady pace.

You let out a quiet moan at his praise, your arms wrapping around his neck to keep him close to you. He smiled against your lips, the happy grumble in his chest vibrating against yours. One of his hands moved down your body, raising goosebumps until he reached your clit. His fingers worked circles into it, drawing soft mewls from you that were music to his ears.

“Do you feel okay?” he asked quietly.

You nodded, biting your lip softly. The pain had slowly gone away, leaving you with only pleasure that was slowly building the knot in your stomach back up. The look you gave him with your eyebrows knitting together in pleasure but your eyes almost begging him to do more was enough to almost send him over the edge, especially with how amazing you felt around him.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered, using his thumb to gently tug your bottom lip from between your teeth. “My beautiful little mate.”

He sat up as his own orgasm began to approach, determined to get you to cum before he did. He knew it would distract from the pain of marking and that was his biggest priority. Seungcheol wanted to avoid hurting you at all costs, at least for your first time.

His fingers started moving quicker as he started aiming his thrusts into a new spot, making you moan out his name and grip the sheets beneath you.

“You’re doing so good for me, baby,” he moaned, his dark bangs sticking to his forehead with sweat. “Fuck… You take me so well; you’re so amazing.”

Your orgasm started to approach a lot faster than you thought it would, your moans and whimpers growing louder and more needy. Seungcheol could tell you were getting close from the way you clenched around him, but he couldn’t have you cumming just yet.

Seungcheol removed his fingers from your clit, placing both hands on your hips as he rolled his hips into yours. You whined, the quickly building high dying down a little bit because of the loss of stimulation.

“Just hold on a little longer, love,” he grunted, trying to get himself closer to his own high. His eyes closed as his head dropped back, the sight of his toned body shining from the light sheen of sweat on his body making him look godlike. “You feel so amazing, I’m almost there…”

Your high was still building with every thrust of Seungcheol’s hips, though. You pulled him back down to you, trying to distract yourself by leaving little kisses and love bites along the column of his neck and across his collarbones. Seungcheol groaned at the feeling, his hips suddenly sharply thrusting forward into you. With the burn of your orgasm approaching, you bit on Seungcheol’s shoulder – not enough to break skin or anything – to hold yourself back, clenching around him.

That was enough to tip him over the edge, one hand going back down to your clit and rubbing into it quickly. Your eyes squeezed shut as your body tensed with your orgasm.

“Let go, baby,” he said softly, but his voice was a growl.

It hit you harder than any other high you’d had, but it was the second wave that really got you. It came with a sudden sharpness in the crook of your neck, but it had you crying out Seungcheol’s name as your toes curled and your thighs locked around his hips. It felt amazing.

After riding out both of your highs, Seungcheol took his teeth out of you and dragged his tongue across the wound to help it heal. You whimpered at the feeling of him pulling out of you, his release and yours dripping slowly down your thighs.

“It didn’t hurt too much, did it?” he wondered.

“No,” you sighed, letting your fingers drag through Seungcheol’s dark hair. You smiled up at him softly when he pulled away to look at your face. “I love you.”

He grinned, bumping your nose with his own, “I love you, too. Thanks for letting me do this – it means so much to me.”

Your sweet moment was cut off by a knock at the door, which had Seungcheol’s head whipping around to look at the door.

“I want you guys to know,” Joshua’s voice came from the other side, “that I didn’t go outside, and I heard everything. Also, you’re lucky Seungkwan’s on his deathbed or you’d have two disgusted wolves here.”

Your face turned completely red as you hid in Seungcheol’s neck while he laughed at you.

“You said nobody could hear!” you whined.

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged, not seeming to care if his brother heard or not, “I guess I forgot about Josh.”

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its-warm-in-here · 4 years ago

Text

Playing Pretend

I’m sorry I didn't get this up sooner. I gutted the end but here’s the first part of the first chapter of a Heisenberg x reader fic that will probably go on too long. This is more of a prolog. No smut yet! Written with a female reader in mind, but I may have versions for both m and f when the final product goes up. Gonna start out kinda fluffy before we get darker. Comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated!

Summary: This summer trip to Romania was supposed to be momentous, life changing, and the bases for your master’s thesis. Too bad the villagers want you gone and this ‘Mother Miranda’ won't even see you. Luckily, you run into a greasy engineer who says he can help.

Karl tries to take a day off from being ‘Lord Heisenberg’ with the cute stranger who wandered into the village. Things only spiral from there.

~2080 words

Miranda loved the yearly festivals. She always made a big show of the village, flowers and banners everywhere. The townsfolk would bring out their best clothing, even if their best was still black and brown. The dreary village would come alive with drinking, dancing and merry making. Even some of the neighboring villages would join in the festivities. The town would be near bustling, the local tavern would be full, laughter and song would echo from the church to the castle.

He hated it. All of it. Heisenberg avoided the celebrations, instead opting to stay holed up in his factory as much as possible. And it wasn't just because of the excess of people, while that didn't help. No, it was an insidious purpose for these gatherings. He exhaled a ring of cigar smoke.

First, boost morale through the village and reaffirm the people's faith in Mother Miranda. Second, and far more insidious, was to widen the flock, to expand her influence and bring in new blood for her experiments. The surrounding towns were just as small and removed from the rest of the world as Miranda's village. Made it easy to bring new blood under her wing. Youth would meet and marry, a drunk or four would go missing, and some of the visitors would become new members of Miranda's community. More meat for her Cadou grinder.

Heisenberg flicked the ash from his cigar and watched it float down before the wind caught it. The early morning view from the top of his factory wasn't bad. It was his own part of the world: no view of the village, the stench of the reservoir was nonexistent, and the most he could see of Castle Dimitrescu was a massive wall keeping their territory separated. Just him and his machines. He took another puff. As much as he planned to avoid today, Heisenberg knew that he would have to make at least some appearance. All the Lords did, even if it was just for a moment. Just another way to show her power; having all of her ‘children’ before the townsfolk. He grimaced at the thought. Târgul de Fete was set to start soon. At least that gave him the morning to get shit done. Heisenberg kicked a bit of metal scrap off the roof and it bounced off the scrap heap below with a ping! before landing in the dirt. He rolled his shoulder. Time to get to work.

---

"Well fuck you too!" You slammed the door behind you. Why even bother going through the proper channels? No matter what, they turn you down, tell you to leave and treat you like an outcast. You spoke to towns folk, to village leaders, hell, you even wanted an audience with their 'Mother Miranda,' but she refused to even see you! You stormed along the path and the few people that had not made their way to the Târgul de Fete celebration steered clear of you, opting to give you a side eye and shuffle to their destination. All you wanted was to observe their festival, and maybe take a few pictures, but even that was negotiable. You had even offered to leave your camera behind with them for the day. Why hadn't you gone to Sweden with the rest of your class? No, instead you went to some culty, backwater town in Romania!

You kicked a rock, hard, sending it flying into the tall grass. "God Damnit!" This was supposed to have been your thesis! Supposed to be life changing! No, now you were just stuck, miles from any true civilization and being kicked out of some stupid, ramshackle heap, whose plants can't even grow right in a Romanian summer. Some of the plants were barely green, most appeared dry or yellowing. The flowers were either wilted and falling apart or hadn't even bloomed. You were no botanist, but you were certain that wasn't healthy.

You kicked another rock, it soared through the grass, but it struck something metal this time before landing with a thud. They didn't want you here, didn't want you at Târgul de Fete? Fine, but they didn't take your camera. Without thinking, you dug the old DSLR out of your bag and snapped a picture of the church.

And immediately deleted it.

You signed. Even if the villagers were a bunch of jackasses, this was their culture and they made it very clear that you were not welcome. Even if they had agreed to all this three months ago. And even if they had called you a bad omen, a poison and a danger to the whole village. You weren't about to infringe. Crestfallen, you huffed your bag over your shoulder and began the trek back out of town. It was at least a four hour walk to your rental car and a good chunk of that walk was more of a hike. Not like there was much you could do other than leave after cussing out the town speakers and nearly slamming the door off its hinges.

The village had felt abandoned when you walked in, and now that everyone had headed off to a celebration, the village was positively desolate. No traditional brightly-colored dresses or intricate belts to be seen. And no wary or hostile glares from the inhabitants either. It was... quiet. Aside from the occasional crow, you might as well have been in a ghost town. It took you a bit to find the correct path out of the grave yard, but after spinning in circles for a good moment, you pushed past a red door and were back on your way. The village wasn't large, most of the paths were poorly maintained and the whole place was enveloped in a strange fish smell.

You bit the inside of your cheek. This was a good thing, really. Who would've wanted to stay in the ramshackle place for more than a few hours, let alone a few days? You groaned and kicked at the ground again. While not lacking in repellent attributes, the pagan worship of the place fascinated you. They had their own religion but had incorporated traditional Romania holidays into their culture. Where else in Europe could you see that happen in real time? Of course, you could think of a couple of places, but you had picked here in the Carpathian mountains in particular! While you did have a second choice, you couldn't stop the self pity from setting in.

Ugh.

The village was relatively small and was quickly fading to forest, the castle that overlooked the town vanished behind you as you shuffled down a particularly steep part of the path. The trees here looked more normal, less sickly. While it was only marginally, you felt a bit better, a bit less mad. Stepping away from that place was a breath of fresh air.

Your boots skid a bit as you reach a flat spot. With a huff, you grip both backpack straps to center yourself. If this couldn't be your thesis, that didn't mean you had to hate the walk. This was Romania afterall, when was the next time you were going to be here? The sky may be overcast, but it sort of added to the eerie charm of this place. You sidestepped your way down another steep incline, using one hand to grip overgrown branches for balance. The last step is a bit further, but you find your footing easily.

And the rock gave way under you, tilting forward with an abrupt grinding sound. A burst of panicked adrenaline rushed through as you struggled to stop. You pitch forward, stumbling over branches and underbrush, your eyes forcibly losing focus.

"The fuck?"

That wasn't your voice. You slammed full force into something, another body? And it gives under you. The other person takes the brunt of the fall, landing on their back with a distinct, "oof."

For a moment, you don't speak, too focused on catching the breath. Finally, your vision swims back and you find your voice, "Damnit... are you ok?"

The man under you goans, sitting half way up to look you over. His hair is grey, and a bit too long, but he couldn't be any older than forty, possibly younger. "Get off." Your eyes go wide and that panicked beat fills your chest. "Ya deaf? Off."

"Er, right," you scramble to your feet and, without thinking, extend a hand to the stranger, "Sorry about... that." You gestured vaguely to the path. "Lost my balance."

He lets out an exasperated huff, and knocks your hand away. For a moment, he doesn't acknowledge you, instead retrieving something from the grass behind him. He's wearing a loose linen shirt, sleeves rolled halfway up with black leather gloves. You force yourself to look somewhere, anywhere else, nervously bouncing from foot to foot. When he turns back to you, he has a tattered, wide brim hat in place and is looking over a pair of broken sunglasses. One of the lenses was clearly shattered, but he hooked them over his shirt collar, his attention finally turning to you. "You're not from around here, huh?”

You couldn't help but snort, "What gave it away, the wind breaker? Don't worry, I'm leaving."

"Leaving?" He repeats.

You start moving back to the path. "Yup, your village speaker has made that very clear."

"They were clear? Not all back and forth on it?" He chuckles, "That's impressive, they must really not like you."

You stare at him, was this a friendly face? It was certainly a handsome face, even with scarring and stubble. But a trustworthy one? "You sure you're ok? Didn't scramble that brain when I ran into you? The rest of the town was pretty dead set on driving me out."

" 'Cause they're a bunch of morons, sweetheart," he insisted, "All part of Mother Miranda's big, idiot mob."

"Huh," you are walking ahead on the path, and he's not but a footfall behind you.

"But they don't matter."

"No?"

"What matters is, why didn't they want you here?"

You stop, turning to face this stranger. He was gruff, and more than a little rude, but in comparison to the townsfolk, he was downright friendly. Hell, you were surprised he was so forward with you. "Masters thesis," you put plainly, hoping he'll leave it at that.

"On what?"

"Anthropology."

He leaned in close. He wasn't that much taller than you, but you couldn't help but move away from his imposing figure. From this distance, you could smell motor oil and some kind of smoke on his clothes. "That's it?" You scoff, the sooner you are back in your car the better. "I just mean, it's surprising they'd want you gone. You sure there's nothing else? Didn't kick over any goat statues?"

"Not that I noticed," you started back down the path. You'd wasted too much time talking to this weirdo anyway. Just based on his demeanor and dislike of the rest of the village, you wonder if you'd maybe tripped over the town pariah. He certainly wasn't dressed like anyone else from the village.

"I could get you back in."

You stopped, not fifteen feet from him. "You're assuming I want to go back in." And didn’t you? You just risk getting yelled at again. But if there was a chance to write your thesis...

“Well, if you're not interested,” he turned to leave. You grit your teeth, your nails digging deep into your backpack straps.

“Hold up!" It doesn't take much to catch up to him. "How exactly are we going to do this?"

"My word carries a certain amount of weight," he carried on, "Though, the village doesn't meet on these matters till next week."

"But what good does that-"

He isn't listening, "For today, I know a place you can watch the town. Besides, you're an Archeologist, you probably want an interview, right?" Of course he gestures to himself with a sort of half bow.

You roll your eyes, but still follow, "Anthropologist." He gives you a blank look. "I'm studying Anthropology, not Archeology."

He doesn't seem to care, instead pulling a cigar and lighter from his pants pocket. "Got a name?"

"Oh, (y/n). You?"

The stranger is part way up on the path you had tripped down. "Karl," he had extended you a gloved hand. You look from him to his hand, before brushing past him, pulling yourself up next to him without the offered aid.

#Karl Heisenberg #Re8 #re8 heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg x you #Ill keep this going as long as i can #wow creativity is hard #karl can be nice if he tries

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veliseraptor · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! Can you give a brief spoilery summary of the Untamed? I just read [the pretties from your posts] died? Oh no. I tried getting information through google but it’s confusing for someone who doesn’t know the characters.

oh lord. there are all kinds of ‘brief summaries of the Untamed’ out there but I’ve always found them vaguely irritating so...I guess that means it’s time for my comeuppance in the form of having to do it myself? I’ll do my best.

I didn’t know how detailed you wanted me to get so I decided to get pretty detailed, since you did ask for spoilery. so this is like. entirely spoilers. spoilers for everything.

also, you can use, if it’s helpful, my brief character overview (‘brief’) which includes some plot information, and could be useful as cross reference also. I’m playing pretty fast and loose with a lot of terminology for the sake of intelligibility, because otherwise this would get even longer and have a lot more links.

also, because you asked me specifically for this, it’s going to have some bias. I tried to keep my interpretive commentary to a relative minimum? but. uh. yeah.

the briefest basic plot overview is (going off The Untamed canon, which you will also see abbreviated as CQL from the pinyin transliteration of the Chinese title (Chen Qing Ling)):

Wei Wuxian, a cultivation (think, loosely, magic) prodigy and creator of his own particular style of cultivation, dies reviled by most of the known world. Sixteen years later he’s raised from the dead by Mo Xuanyu, an outcast and the bastard son of one of the leaders of the main sects of the cultivation world, in order to take revenge on Mo Xuanyu’s enemies (specifically his abusive family and ~an unknown person~).

And here is where we get into the details.

Pretty much immediately upon Wei Wuxian’s resurrection, people start dying at Mo Manor, before Wei Wuxian has even done anything, because of (it turns out) a very angry spirit of a semi-sentient weapon. Wei Wuxian books it out of town after his old best friend/crush Lan Wangji shows up to help the Lan ducklings he’s shepherding (including most notably Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi, the only named characters of that bunch), only to wind up running into him again on the road - and not only him, but his orphaned nephew (shorthand, go with it) Jin Ling (Wei Wuxian was responsible for his parents’ deaths) and Jiang Cheng, his martial brother who (at least according to rumor) killed him sixteen years ago and still bears a hell of a grudge. In order to save Jin Ling, Wei Wuxian summons the “Ghost General” Wen Ning, who was supposed to be destroyed and whose presence confirms his identity to a very pissed off Jiang Cheng. Lan Wangji recognizes Wei Wuxian as well. Wei Wuxian passes out.

followed any of that? no? that’s fine, because now we’re heading into a thirty episode flashback that’ll clarify some things. (but not before you forget a whole bunch of things from the first two episodes.)

I’m going to split this into arcs. I’m also going to put this under a read more, because...yeah, this came out to just a little over 10,500 words. I’m...sorry.

have fun?

Cloud Recesses Summer School Arc

The time card says “sixteen years earlier” but it isn’t sixteen years earlier because that would make no sense, but it’s better to give up on timeline now or you’ll just drive yourself nuts.

This is the part of the show where you meet the main characters, some of whom you saw earlier (notably Jiang Cheng, Wei Wuxian’s younger sort-of brother), and some of whom you only know from reference (Jiang Yanli, Wei Wuxian’s older sort-of sister) and some of whom are significantly important (Lan Wangji). You also meet Jin Zixuan, the snotty heir to the Jin Sect, who will be important later. Jiang Yanli is clearly into him and he seems to very much not return the feelings.

At this point, there are five main sects that the characters belong to. They are (with the characters you’ve met from them so far: the Jiang Sect (Jiang Cheng, Wei Wuxian, and Jiang Yanli), the Nie Sect (Nie Huaisang, a flighty and sort of feckless fellow), the Jin Sect (Jin Zixuan, his social skills translator Mianmian), the Lan Sect (Lan Wangji, his brother Lan Xichen) as well as the Wen Sect (more on them in a moment). Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian meet and immediately...something. Wei Wuxian wants to make friends, and Lan Wangji seems to emphatically Not.

You also meet Meng Yao, who is Nie Huaisang’s brother Nie Mingjue’s right hand man, and also the bastard son of Jin Guangshan (the leader of Jin Sect). He is also the son of (using the words of literally everyone) a prostitute, which people remind him of at every possible moment, in case he was in danger of forgetting, or something. He and Lan Xichen have kind of a moment.

Later on, members of the Wen Sect, led by Wen Chao storm in, posturing disrespectfully, and drop off Wen Qing to “learn” (but secretly she has a mission looking for the Yin Iron/Metal). The Wen are ascendant in power and seem to be flexing their muscle looking for trouble.

Wen Qing comes as a set with her brother Wen Ning - the pair of them are from sort of...a secondary branch of the main Wen family, and she’s being coerced into supporting Wen Ruohan despite being not thrilled about it. Wei Wuxian bonds with Wen Qing’s younger brother Wen Ning, who has a weird situation that makes him vulnerable to possession (this is important later).

At one point Wei Wuxian proposes - in response to a question! He’s just being innovative! - to put it simply, necromancy, which is, to say the least, not a hit. Remember that for later!

Eventually, Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian end up falling by accident into some ice caves, where they learn from one of Lan Wangji’s ancestors (Lan Yi, she’s cool) about the Yin Iron, of which she has a piece. It is an spiritually corrupted metal that can’t be destroyed so it was broken into pieces and hidden in different places. Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji resolve jointly to find the other pieces.

Wei Wuxian, Jiang Yanli, and Jiang Cheng (henceforth “the Yunmeng siblings”) are picked up early by Jiang Yanli and Jiang Cheng’s dad (Jiang Fengmian) because Wei Wuxian causes problems both on purpose and not. Wei Wuxian, however, puts together that Lan Wangji is going off on his own chasing the Yin Iron, and ditches the rest of his family to go help.

Yin Iron Hunt Arc

Wei Wuxian meets up with Lan Wangji, who is not thrilled to see him (at least, apparently). They run into Nie Huaisang, who joins them. They come to a town where everyone seems to have vanished and there is nothing fishy going on in the cave with the statue that looks like a dancing lady at all. Meanwhile, Jiang Cheng leaves home to go track down Wei Wuxian and bring him back.

The statue comes to life, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji fight together to defeat it, and then a bunch of...undead villagers (sort of, they get better) attack them, only to be lured away by Wen Qing playing a flute (this ability will never be brought up again). Jiang Cheng reveals himself as having been hanging out watching this go down. Ultimately, by killing the Stygian Pigeon that belongs to Wen Chao, the villagers are freed and they move on.

After a brief stopover in a village, they hear some rumors about a haunted house and take off to go check it out. When they get there, everyone is dead and Xue Yang is on the roof just kind of vibing. Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan manage to get him pinned down and taken captive. This is important and not just because I said so.

Nie Huaisang, who Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng, and Lan Wangji ditched in town, arrives here with Meng Yao, who proposes bringing Xue Yang to Nie Mingjue for justice purposes (which when I write it like that sounds...um. moving right along), which is where everyone heads next, less Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan who have their own things to do. Wei Wuxian realizes that Xiao Xingchen had the same master as his mother, and gets really excited about it; it’s adorable.

They go to Nie Mingjue, who is talked out of executing Xue Yang because they’re trying to find out where he put the Yin Iron (which they figure he has, because reasons. there are reasons, I just don’t feel like going into it.) Lan Wangji leaves in the night without saying goodbye, and then Wen Chao arrives. He is accompanied by Wen Zhuliu, who is called the Core-Melting Hand for reasons that will be important later. There’s a fight, Xue Yang gets loose, and Nie Mingjue finds Meng Yao in a very compromising position (killing a captain of the guard and among a bunch of other dead bodies). He kicks Meng Yao out of the Nie Sect.

Meanwhile, the Wens attack Cloud Recesses. Lan Xichen’s uncle makes him leave to preserve himself and the most important texts. Everyone retreats to a cave that’s hidden and walled off; Su She (who was introduced briefly earlier) caves to threats to his life and tells the Wens how to get into the Lan’s cave sanctuary. Lan Wangji returns with Lan Yi’s Yin Iron and gives it and himself up to Wen Chao’s older brother Wen Xu to spare everyone else.

Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian leave for home (Lotus Pier). We witness family dynamics, which are terrible. The Wens want everyone to send their kids, specifically their heirs, to be reeducated in Wen territory, but they’re not hostages, we swear. No, really.

Reeducation Camp Arc

To reeducation camp with the Wens we go! Where Lan Wangji is not looking so hot, and Wei Wuxian rapidly causes problems on purpose to try to get to talk to him, but mostly just ends up getting himself tossed in a dungeon where he gets attacked by a very bad puppet of a dog. Wen Qing has told Wen Ning not to associate with Wei Wuxian because they’re on thin ice with their boss (Wen Ruohan), but Wen Ning sneaks him some medicine against Wen Qing’s orders anyway.

They go on a hunt, with the non-Wens featuring as bait. Here is where you meet Wen Chao’s main squeeze Wang Lingjiao, who was formerly a servant. Everyone ends up in a cave that contains a creature whose name is unfortunately translated as “Tortoise of Slaughter.” we’ll go with “Xuanwu of Slaughter” instead, it feels better. Wen Chao and his accompanying entourage make a run for it and ditch everyone else in the cave; they manage to sneak out but Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji end up trapped with no way out. They team up and kill the Xuanwu, partially because Wei Wuxian acquires a very cursed sword. Afterward, he is feverish and asks Lan Wangji to sing - enter Wuji! their theme. You see Lan Wangji mouth that it is called “Wangxian” before Wei Wuxian passes out. (Yes, he did name his composition after their ship name. Aww.)

I’ve skated through that very fast but it is important because it’s like...the point where they seriously bond in a major way and it’s all very...like, there was only one bed only they’re trapped in a cave and injured and forced to rely on each other. So not actually really like that.

Wei Wuxian comes around outside of the cave with Jiang Cheng and Jin Zixuan, who brought help to rescue him and Lan Wangji; Lan Wangji, however, is gone.

Oh Shit Things Went Downhill Fast Arc

Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian go back to Lotus Pier, where Wei Wuxian is in big trouble with Jiang Cheng’s mother (Yu Ziyuan, seen later emotionally terrorizing all her children), who already doesn’t like him and accuses him of bringing trouble down on them by defying the Wens. Jiang Cheng’s dad is terrible, Wei Wuxian reaffirms that he and Jiang Cheng will be Together Forever, you, the viewer, know that is absolutely not how that’s going to go.

Word comes that the Wen have attacked one of the smaller sects, and Jiang Cheng’s dad (Jiang Fengmian) goes with Jiang Yanli to talk to Jin Guangshan about how to deal with the Wens.

Then Wang Lingjiao arrives with word that they’re gonna be in big trouble if they don’t punish Wei Wuxian right now. Yu Ziyuan uses her lightning whip to beat the shit out of Wei Wuxian, but Wang Lingjiao wants her to cut off his hand. Then she makes the mistake of saying that they’ll be making Lotus Pier a supervisory office of the Wens, thank you.

Yu Ziyuan reacts...poorly, Wang Lingjiao calls on her backup Wen Zhuliu (and everyone else); seeing the writing on the wall Yu Ziyuan grabs Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng, puts them on a boat, and sends them away, bequeathing her sick-ass lightning whip (Zidian) to Jiang Cheng. They run into Jiang Fengmian and Jiang Yanli; Jiang Fengmian adds Jiang Yanli to the boat full of crying children and goes to sail back to Lotus Pier.

Lotus Pier falls, everybody dies, Jiang Cheng goes semi-catatonic and then disappears, having been captured by the Wens after going back for his parents’ bodies. (Which is more important than it probably sounds, from a Western perspective.) Wei Wuxian follows him and finds Wen Ning, who smuggles Jiang Cheng out and takes him, Wei Wuxian, and Jiang Yanli to Wen Qing for safekeeping.

Jiang Cheng wakes up; his golden core (the...thing that lets him do superpowered things, let’s go with that) was destroyed by Wen Zhuliu. Melted, if you will. And it’s not the kind of thing you can just, you know, fix. He descends into absolute despair as Wei Wuxian looks frantically for a way to fix it - and finds one! Though Wen Qing is not happy about it, she still agrees.

at this point we see the return of an old friend! Song Lan, who has a bloody bandage over his eyes, but has eyes that work, despite the fact that he was blinded by Xue Yang who also killed his entire temple. He explains that Xiao Xingchen said that he was taking Song Lan to his master Baoshan Sanren, the immortal who can cure anything, and doesn’t remember anything else.

Wei Wuxian takes Jiang Cheng to Baoshan Sanren to get his core back. Psych! It’s a lie that he totally made up to explain the fact that he’s actually getting his own core transplanted into Jiang Cheng in a highly experimental procedure. Importantly, Wei Wuxian does not tell Jiang Cheng this.

Post-surgery, rather battered Wei Wuxian gets caught by Wen Chao and Wang Lingjiao, who torture him and then throw him into a place called the Burial Mounds, which is more or less what it sounds like, is Very Cursed, and from which no one has emerged alive. Then this happens:

(I want you to appreciate how hard I’ve tried to not put any screencaps in here. but I had to do this one. I just had to.)

and you go oh shit and also well that’s sexy.

Jiang Cheng, delighted to have his core back, descends the mountain only to find that Wei Wuxian is...not there.

Cool! That seems fine.

Sunshot Campaign Arc

Timeskip to three months later! The rest of the sects have allied together to take down the Wen Sect (this is what ‘Sunshot Campaign’ refers to, because the symbol of the Wens is a sun). Things aren’t looking good for the Wens, including Wen Chao and Wang Lingjiao. Wang Lingjiao hallucinates to the sound of a flute and ends up killing herself. Meanwhile, Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng have teamed up to look for Wei Wuxian. On their way, they start finding piles of Wen bodies killed in a mysterious and grotesque manner involving an unfamiliar method of cultivation.

(Side note: around now is where Jiang Cheng frees Wen Qing from where she was imprisoned by the Wens for being a dirty traitor during the war and gives her the comb of pining he bought way back in the Cloud Recesses arc, telling her that he will help her if she asks. This isn’t...exactly important, except I wanted to note it.)

Eventually, they find a house where Wen Chao has holed up with Wen Zhuliu, and watch as it’s revealed that he has gone through some nasty shit, is terrified and traumatized and badly injured. Ominous signs: begin to happen! Flames going out: happen! Shots of someone climbing slowly and menacingly up stairs: happen!

Yeah, it’s Wei Wuxian. New and improved, darker and meaner and very sexy about it, and with a new sick-ass flute. He starts attacking Wen Chao, and when Wen Zhuliu moves to attack Wei Wuxian Jiang Cheng jumps down and hangs Wen Zhuliu with Zidian. Lan Wangji confronts Wei Wuxian about this darker and meaner version and Wei Wuxian breaks up with him; Lan Wangji leaves Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian to kill Wen Chao because the family that murders together stays together!

(They won’t, but.)

The war goes on, but the tides have turned, and the Wens are losing. Both of Wen Ruohan’s sons are dead. Soup drama happens here, which I don’t need to explain fully but it is clear that Wei Wuxian is extremely emotionally unstable, and also will no longer carry his sword despite everyone telling him he needs to carry his sword. All is not well with the Wei Wuxian! But nobody knows why. Lan Wangji’s repeated “LET ME FIX YOU” overtures are not well received. Lan Wangji also has a nice conversation about how the Lan rules did not prepare him for moral complexity.

Eventually Nie Mingjue proposes going to attack Wen Ruohan on his own while the others move on the Wen stronghold at Nightless City (at this point, they have received a map of Wen defenses from a ~mysterious spy~). Nie Mingjue is captured, and it is revealed that Meng Yao decided that after getting kicked out of Qinghe he could find a better boss somewhere else. Outside, an undead army shows up to kick everyone else’s ass. Things don’t look good for our heroes!

Wei Wuxian brings out his secret weapon the Yin Tiger Seal and...takes over the undead army. This is very troubling to everyone involved, but it does bring Wen Ruohan out to see what the deal is. Wei Wuxian delivers one of the sickest lines in the entire show:

(i’m restraining myself! trust me! i am!)

so yeah, that’s a normal and reassuring thing to say.

And then Meng Yao stabs Wen Ruohan in the back. And that’s it for Wen Ruohan! Our major antagonist is dead! Surely everything will be fine now.

Well We Won the War, Now What Arc

[cracks knuckles] and here’s where the politics starts.

Ready and totally psyched to step into the power vacuum left by the fall of the Wens is Jin Guangshan! Leader of the Jin Sect, least impacted by the war by vitue of joining up late. He recognizes Meng Yao as his son now that he’s, like, someone that is valuable to him politically, and Meng Yao gets a commensurate name change > Jin Guangyao. Pretty much immediately Jin Guangshan starts manuevering to consolidate power - pushing to marry Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan, pushing to get access to Wei Wuxian’s Yin Tiger Seal, subtly undermining everyone else...the works.

Jin Guangshan is the worst, is what I’m saying here.

Meanwhile, Nie Mingjue is very unhappy about the whole “Meng Yao helping the Wens and fucking with him when he’s captured” thing, but then Lan Xichen (remember, Lan Wangji’s older brother) steps in and reveals that Jin Guangyao was a spy delivering information, actually, and also saved his life when he was on the run from the Wens, so don’t hurt him please. Nie Mingjue is still very suspicious, but he backs off. Subsequently, after agreeing to place the Wen (civilian) captives in a holding camp, Jin Guangyao has them killed (impliedly at the order of his father).

We are given cues that Jin Guangyao is bad news. Like, heavy cues. If you are me this makes you love him.

This is also where Lan Xichen, Nie Mingjue, and Jin Guangyao become sworn brothers, which is a big deal.

Meanwhile, back in Lotus Pier, Wei Wuxian is...not doing so hot! He’s drinking heavily, shirking his responsibilities in a way that is making Jiang Cheng particularly very upset with him, generally being weird and traumatized but nobody knows how to deal with that, or him. Then Jin Zixuan arrives to invite everyone to a special hunt being hosted by his father including Jiang Yanli because he, he means his mom, really wants her to be there.

The hunt goes great! By that I mean Jin Zixuan is a spectacular failure at expressing his feelings to Jiang Yanli, Wei Wuxian almost starts a fight with Jin Zixuan, Jin Zixuan’s enormous asshole cousin gets nasty until Jiang Yanli makes him apologize, in a seriously badass moment. The whole thing comes off with Wei Wuxian really not looking good, including his decision to ditch the celebratory banquet. But also Jiang Yanli getting a liiiiittle closer to something she wants (i.e. Jin Zixuan). Jiang Cheng is like “dude what the fuck” at Wei Wuxian and gets zero percent explanation. Meanwhile everyone in the vicinity pokes at his massive insecurities, because the cultivation world’s favorite activity is actually gossip.

Things only get worse at the very bad after party. This is where we meet Su She again, who has gone and founded his own sect! Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji are sort of bitchy about it. But the real issue comes when Zixun peer pressures Lan Xichen into drinking despite the fact that it’s pretty solidly against the rules of the Lan Sect. Lan Xichen does it with a very “fuck you” smile, despite Jin Guangyao’s attempts to forestall the situation.

(I feel like I have not expressed the relationship between Jin Guangyao and Lan Xichen? It’s a whole thing. Let’s just say that it’s a fairly popular ship for a reason.)

Lan Wangji, however, is not as diplomatic as his brother.

And then Wei Wuxian arrives! To ruin another party. Because he found Wen Qing wandering around in the streets and turns out that Wen Ning was taken prisoner by Jin Zixun and friends and removed to whereabouts unknown. Wei Wuxian proceeds to give the sexiest countdown ever to annihilating Jin Zixun if he doesn’t tell him where Wen Ning is.

Wen Ning, unfortunately, is in a pile of bodies. Because the Jin have been...well, experimenting on Wen prisoners, basically. Wen Ning is...not dead in this universe because censorship, but everything makes more sense if you just say “he’s basically dead and Wei Wuxian resurrects him to fuck up everyone in the vicinity who was responsible for his death, which is...everyone other than the other Wens. Eventually Wei Wuxian stops him by yelling his second (courtesy) name that no one else has used for him in speech up to this point (Wen Qionglin), because love is stored in the name. Wei Wuxian gathers up the survivors and takes off only to run into Lan Wangji standing in his way.

They have a point of no return moment. Wei Wuxian basically says “let me go or you have to kill me” only it’s better than that because what he actually says is like “if I’m going to be killed I should be killed by you, then I would know it was right” and it’s a whole fucking thing and anyway Lan Wangji steps aside and lets them all go and it is quite literally “I’m not crying, it’s just raining on my face” except he is also crying.

So...fuck.

Burial Mounds Arc

Wei Wuxian takes the Wens to the one place nobody’s probably going to follow them: namely, the Burial Mounds. Home sweet home!

Outside in the main world, rumors are flying about the army Wei Wuxian is building and the sect he’s planning to found and how ambitious he is and how he’s disrespecting Jiang Cheng and actually Jiang Cheng he probably never loved you anyway and is better and stronger and what are you good for, but I’m saying this out of concern and to be helpful (paraphrased from Jin Guangshan).

Accordingly, Jiang Cheng agrees to go and check things out and see what’s going on in Chez Burial Mounds. What is going on is basically a bunch of civilians eking out a very depressing living. There is also a child, a-Yuan, who is adorable. This will also be important later.

(are you keeping track of all this?)

Jiang Cheng also goes to see Wen Ning, who is...recovering from being dead/undead and Wei Wuxian is working on fixing him. Jiang Cheng says he has to die, and Wei Wuxian has to come home, and things are really bad, man, so stop worrying about these losers and avoid the entire cultivation world being really pissed with you, maybe?

Wei Wuxian isn’t going for it, and tells Jiang Cheng to cut him out of Jiang Sect in order to protect Jiang Sect’s reputation. It’s upsetting. They stage a very dramatic duel and Jiang Cheng announces that friendship ended with Wei Wuxian, he has no new friend actually.

This is also where Wen Qing significantly returns the comb of pining that Jiang Cheng gave her way back (remember that?) and is like. so you wouldn’t’ve helped me and Wen Ning actually, would you. And that is the end of Chengqing as a sidebar ship that never really sailed. Well done, you two.

Meanwhile, Jin Zixuan gets his shit together and proposes to Jiang Yanli by way of making her a lotus pond at Jinlintai. So that’s nice!

A bit later Lan Wangji comes to visit! Only it’s totally coincidental, he was just passing through, that’s all. He and Wei Wuxian hang out for a little while, pretending things are sort of normal, but they have to rush back to the Burial Mounds because the Wen Ning is out. They manage to get him under control and awaken him to proper consciousness again, though! Great! Things are looking up. :)

Lan Wangji does not stay for dinner, though. :(

In my notes I have written “meanwhile...political shitshow” and that is basically a summation of what’s up in places that aren’t the Burial Mounds. Specifically, Jin Guangshan, who seems to have deputized Jin Guangyao to do his dirty work generally, is making noises about how something needs to be done about that Wei Wuxian, and what about that Yin Tiger Seal anyway, doesn’t it seem Yin Iron-like, shouldn’t something like that not be in the hands of a random person? Probably it should be in someone else’s hands instead. Someone responsible with no ulterior motives. You know.

Also in here...somewhere, Mianmian tries to stand up for Wei Wuxian being maybe right about some things, gets shouted down, and decides to leave the Jin Sect entirely. Like...just walks out. Several people look at her like ‘you can do that?’, Lan Wangji is jealous, it is a total boss move. Mianmian hasn’t been a major character but this is important enough and cool enough that I had to mention it.

Jiang Yanli and Jiang Cheng come to Yiling (by the Burial Mounds) for a very secret rendezvous where Wei Wuxian gets to see Jiang Yanli’s beautiful wedding dress and eat some of her famous soup and it is very sweet and nice and Jiang Cheng is like “so do you have a plan for if everyone attacks you” and Wei Wuxian is like “absolutely. I will kill everyone is my plan.”

also possibly Jiang Yanli is already pregnant at this point??? she and Jiang Cheng are certainly exchanging a lot of conspiratorial smiles when she tells Wei Wuxian to give her future son a courtesy name.

She is for sure pregnant later, because there is a baby named Jin Ling who shows up! (Remember that name? No? He was the bratty teenager from episode 2.) Jin Guangshan does not allow Jin Guangyao to hold the baby, for which he deserves what he gets. For Jin Ling’s 100 day/three month (again! timelines, fuck em) celebration, Jiang Cheng, Jin Zixuan, and Lan Wangji tag team to get Wei Wuxian invited, where he will come and it will be nice and everyone will discuss this Yin Tiger Seal issue like civilized people.

An invitation is sent for Wei Wuxian to come to the celebration! Wonderful! This is in no way going to go horribly wrong.

Oh Shit, Things Went Downhill Fast (Take Two) Arc

It goes horribly wrong.

On the way to Jinlintai to greet his new baby nephew, accompanied by Wen Ning, Wei Wuxian is confronted by - surprise! - Jin Zixun, accusing Wei Wuxian of putting a curse on him. Wei Wuxian denies it, naturally, since he didn’t. Jin Zixun decides the best way to deal with this situation is to kill Wei Wuxian, which will definitely break the curse that Wei Wuxian definitely cast on him.

He attacks, and Wen Ning goes Ghost General on everyone’s ass, and Wei Wuxian brings out his flute. Things are looking pretty hairy when Jin Zixuan shows up to call off the fight, trying to get Wei Wuxian to back down; he does not back down, because that would just mean getting shot full of arrows.

Wen Ning, who seems to have completely lost his mind, fists Jin Zixuan. Through the chest. This does, in fact, kill him.

His dying words are to say that Jiang Yanli is still waiting for Wei Wuxian to show up, just to make everything worse. Wen Ning kills Jin Zixun as well. This is not actually what Wei Wuxian wanted to happen.

Back at the Burial Mounds! In the wake of Jin Zixuan’s death, an ultimatum has been issued to give up the Wen siblings or else. This is pretty clearly (in my opinion) a pretext that doesn’t mean anything, but Wen Qing and Wen Ning have already decided to sacrifice themselves. Maybe they’re hoping it’ll work? Or at least that it’ll give Wei Wuxian some time? Wen Qing knocks Wei Wuxian out so he can’t stop them. The whole thing is really fucking heartbreaking.

Wei Wuxian comes around and goes to Jinlintai, where he sees Jiang Yanli, who is mourning her dead husband who got killed by her baby brother! Cool! She sees Wei Wuxian but he runs before she can say anything, partly because guards have been sicced on him. He is pretty clearly having a mental breakdown, hallucinations and all!

Cut to a gathering of...pretty much everyone important and all their followers at Nightless City, for a combination commemorating the dead/affirming the deaths of Wen Ning and Wen Qing/gearing up to kill Wei Wuxian.

Who spares them the effort of coming to find him by showing up on the roof! He proceeds to sic dark magic on everyone there except, conspicuously, for the Jiang Sect. Lan Wangji arrives to defuse the situation and fails to defuse the situation until Wei Wuxian hears Jiang Yanli calling for him.

Because she’s arrived on an active battlefield! Not her best idea but it’s not like I can actually blame her considering the week she’s having.

Wei Wuxian goes to look for her, as does Jiang Cheng who also heard her, and...suddenly loses control of his dark magic. Cool! One of the...undead? people there wounds Jiang Yanli. Even better! Jiang Cheng pleads with Wei Wuxian to get things under control, which he can’t! They have a moment while a lot of people around them are dying but you know what, they deserve it.

because like literally a second later Jiang Yanli pushes Wei Wuxian out of the way of a sword meant to stab him in the back and instead takes it herself. And dies.

So. Yeah.

Wei Wuxian loses the last threads of his sanity and destroys the Yin Tiger Seal. While everybody is fighting over it, he goes over to the edge of a cliff, and now we’re back here where we started! With Lan Wangji clinging to Wei Wuxian’s hand as he dangles over the edge of a cliff and tells him to let go.

Jiang Cheng arrives to defuse the situation, by which I mean “he tells Wei Wuxian to go die and stabs down.” He only hits rock; Wei Wuxian breaks himself loose of Lan Wangji’s grip and falls. You are left on the image of Lan Wangji’s absolutely devastated face.

nice! great. well, that brings us up to speed for the flashforward to the future, where you have probably completely forgotten what happened in the first two episodes.

For instance: remember how we saw Wen Ning despite the fact that he’s supposed to be ashes? Yeah.

And We’re Back in the Present Now Arc (Good Times in Qinghe Arc)

For some reason this is the part of the show where I remember the least and it all kind of blurs together with the exception of one scene? so I had to go look at Wikipedia episode summaries to make sure I was putting things in the right order.

Back in the present at the Cloud Recesses, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji discover that the very angry sword spirit last seen killing people at Mo Manor (remember that?) is pointing them in the direction of Qinghe (the Nie Sect territory). They leave to go there and run into Jin Ling, who semi-accidentally terrorizes Wei Wuxian by way of dog.

By asking around, they also learn that there are rumors of a man-eating fortress in the woods, and that it hasn’t been dealt with because the leader of the Nie Sect is absolutely useless. The leader of the Nie Sect who is now - hey, been a while! - Nie Huaisang, since his older brother disappeared under mysterious circumstances after losing his mind years ago.

The dynamic duo go off to investigate the man-eating fortress, naturally, and what they find is a tomb full of swords and a wall full of skeletons, and also Jin Ling.

They remove Jin Ling from the wall, Lan Wangji goes chasing a mysterious attacker, and Wei Wuxian takes Jin Ling to safety only to end up running into - oh boy! - Jiang Cheng.

They have a calm talk about their feelings and address their dysfunction in a reasonable manner.

Nope! Jiang Cheng corners Wei Wuxian with Jin Ling’s dog, throws a cup of tea at a wall, and yells at Wei Wuxian about how he both didn’t come home right away and also how he should die ten million times (no, like, actually). Fortunately, Jin Ling arrives, lies out his ass about how he saw Wen Ning to get Jiang Cheng to leave, and lets Wei Wuxian go.

Back to that mysterious figure Lan Wangji went running after! Turns out it was none other than Nie Huaisang, who confesses - reluctantly - that the man-eating fortress belongs to his family and is a safe home for bloodthirsty swords after their owners die, which is a normal thing to get as a family heirloom. This is also where it becomes increasingly clear that (a) the sword spirit is Baxia, Nie Mingjue’s sword, and (b) Nie Mingjue is most likely hella dead, specifically murdered.

With this new information, Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian move on, tracking the directions of the angry sword spirit. They overhear some very depressing story about Song Lan, Xiao Xingchen, and Xue Yang, specifically how things turned out horribly for them (though without details), which drives Lan Wangji to drink.

Lan Wangji cannot hold his liquor, at all. Wei Wuxian takes his unconsciousness as an opportunity to flute Wen Ning to him again, and removes a massive metal needle from his skull, which fixes the whole “unconscious zombie” issue. Unfortunately, Wen Ning remembers nothing about what happened to him between going to Jinlintai with Wen Qing and when he heard Wei Wuxian calling by way of flute.

And now we have Drunkji, who is the most adorable, hilarious thing ever. He gives Wei Wuxian chickens, with utmost sincerity. They are wedding chickens. It is very important that Wei Wuxian have these chickens.

This interlude is not important to the plot but it is hilarious. There is also a not hilarious interlude of Lan Wangji being very sad about how he didn’t help Wei Wuxian before, and also admitting that he likes rabbits. Again: not plot important. It is adorable.

Wei Wuxian herds Drunkji back to the inn, where a mysterious masked man attempts to steal the pouch holding the angry sword spirit, but is driven off and teleports away. Remember this guy! He’s important.

The next morning, they set off and hit the road for a place called Yi City, which if you’ve spent any time on this blog you know is deeply important in my heart if not, like, in terms of show space.

Yi City Arc Yi City Arc Yi City Arc

yes this is three episodes but this is my summary post so I get to give it its own section if I want to.

Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji arrive at Yi City, which is empty, and very spooky. They run into the pack of juniors (Jin Ling, Lan Sizhui, sassmaster Lan Jingyi and consummate romantic Ouyang Zizhen are the named ones), and shortly thereafter into a whole bunch of undead. They also run into a ghost (???) girl who is blind and has no tongue. They also also run into Xiao Xingchen, severely wounded.

Psych! It’s Xue Yang in disguise and he has an undead Song Lan under his control. what a fun twist this is! and he wants one thing specifically: for Wei Wuxian to help him bring someone back to life. Problem is that their soul is in need of some serious super glue and super glue doesn’t work on souls.

Xue Yang informs Wei Wuxian that his consent is optional and he will be participating in Xue Yang’s necromancy experiment fantasies whether he likes it or not. Lan Wangji objects strenuously to this idea. While Lan Wangji is fighting Xue Yang and Wen Ning is fighting Song Lan (corpse fight! corpse fight!) Wei Wuxian herds the juniors into a safe courtyard where the corpses won’t go, led by the aforementioned ghost girl, who shows them a coffin.

the coffin has Xiao Xingchen in it. The actual real one. There’s a bandage over his eyes, because he doesn’t have any.

Wei Wuxian goes into the ghost girl’s memories in order to find out what happened using a technique called Empathy, and the next chunk of things I’m just going to tell in full chronologically even though there’s a break where you don’t see all of it until an episode later.

The ghost girl, a-Qing, is a con artist who pretends to be blind; she runs into Xiao Xingchen (who is actually blind) when she steals his money, and he just gives it to her after stopping someone else whose money she stole from beating him up. A-Qing decides they’re friends now. They’ve been traveling together for...some amount of time when they stumble on a badly injured man on the side of the road. Xiao Xingchen picks him up and takes him home with him (to an abandoned coffin house in Yi City). You get one guess who he’s rescued and who is totally psyched to discover that his life has been saved by Xiao Xingchen, who doesn’t know who he is, because he’s blind.

So you know, everything is coming up Xue Yang.

What follows is three years of domestic bliss, including hits like “entire villages dying by Xiao Xingchen under sort of suspicious circumstances” and “threatening grocers.” And then who should show up but Song Lan! Looking for Xiao Xingchen and he’s so happy to have finally found him.

Only he notices Xue Yang first.

A fight ensues, in which Xue Yang...sort of talks Song Lan to death by digging into the fact that Xiao Xingchen is blind because he gave his eyes to Song Lan, actually, and Song Lan hurt him so bad when they broke up, and because Xiao Xingchen is blind Xue Yang has been able to trick him into killing living people when he thinks he’s killing undead ones, and oooh do you feel bad now, well, guess what, you’re gonna feel worse when I poison you into becoming undead and cut out your tongue. :D

And even worse when this means that Xiao Xingchen stabs him because, you know, undead monster.

Cool! Things are going great.

Or they would be only a-Qing saw everything, reveals it to Xiao Xingchen, who puts it together and greets XueYang coming back from grocery shopping with a sword (rude). They break up, and by “break up” I mean “Xue Yang reveals his tragic backstory, Xiao Xingchen is not convinced that his tragic backstory means all the murder was justified, Xue Yang decides it’s time to make this all go nuclear.” So tells Xiao Xingchen about how he’s been killing people actually! And guess what, bonus, one of those people was your BFF/life partner/whatever, Song Lan. isn’t that amazing, Xiao Xingchen, isn’t that so cool--

Xiao Xingchen kills himself and this is, it turns out, Not What Xue Yang Wanted. So guess who’s in the pouch Xue Yang was hoping to resurrect? Yeah.

Back in the present, with help from a-Qing directing Lan Wangji, Xue Yang gets...hella stabbed, but not before he kills a-Qing. Song Lan, freed from Xue Yang’s control, kills Xue Yang.

Oh yeah, and then we see Xiao Xingchen tenderly laying pieces of candy on a bed, which is symbolically important, and also Xue Yang dies looking at the last piece of candy Xiao Xingchen gave him, and now I’m going to cry. anyway Yi City Arc, you’re welcome. Where the only person who survives did not, in fact, survive!

Oh, yeah, I guess it’s also important that there’s a headless body buried here and it gets...pretty conclusively identified as Nie Mingjue because the sword spirit (remember that?) takes the shape of his very distinctive large sword (Baxia). Also Xue Yang recreated the Yin Tiger Seal but it gets snatched away by the masked man from earlier. There’s also a bunch of stuff about the Yin Iron plot but you can ignore it, it doesn’t actually really matter that much.

Honestly at that point I was crying too much to pay a whole lot of attention to the whole point of them being in Yi City to begin with. So sue me.

The Plot Thickens, and Secrets Are Revealed Arc

Exeunt Yi City, rendezvous with Lan Xichen to discuss, obliquely, who could be responsible for Nie Mingjue’s death. Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji delicately imply that maybe it was Jin Guangyao; Lan Xichen is unconvinced and informs us that there are no curse marks indicating that he’d teleported on Jin Guangyao’s body, he would know, and also they’ve been together every night so he wouldn’t have time to get up to shenanigans anyway.

Hm.

Still, they go ahead together to ruin another party/investigate at Jinlintai, with Wei Wuxian safely in disguise (barely), unfortunately as Mo Xuanyu, who is not exactly welcome in the Jin Sect because he got kicked out of it earlier. Mo Xuanyu is a whole...thing that I’m not really going into here because the show doesn’t really get into it either.

Wei Wuxian ducks out to investigate, and in the form of an animated paper man, to the tune of music we have never heard before in this show and will never hear again (look, it’s just weird to me), goes sneaking into Jin Guangyao’s rooms to do some poking around. His investigations are interrupted when Jin Guangyao’s wife Qin Su, in a state of severe distress, returns, followed shortly by Jin Guangyao. They argue about an unknown revelation in a letter Qin Su received that has resulted in her being disgusted by...something, we don’t know what, and angry with Jin Guangyao. She accuses him of killing their kid.

Eventually he paralyzes her and removes her to a secret room through a mirror, which is a thing everyone has, especially one with a bunch of torture instruments and a body sized table with dried blood on it. Normal!

Remember how the body in Yi City was headless? Yeah, we found the head now.

And it’s time for another Empathy flashback!

Empathy Flashback feat. Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao’s Bad Relationship Mini Arc

This time with Nie Mingjue (and Jin Guangyao). We see Jin Guangyao very quickly elevated from a servant who is spat upon by the other Nie cultivators to Nie Mingjue’s right hand man, like, literally in two seconds. Flash forward to episode 10 - remember that? - where Jin Guangyao has just been caught in a compromising murder position. Nie Mingjue accuses Jin Guangyao plotting all along and is a conniving little snake who was in league with Xue Yang (which is a thing that does not make sense, actually), and kicks him out.

We next see Nie Mingjue in Nightless City, having been captured and currently being taunted by a very sexy Meng Yao, who kills some other Nie cultivators and threatens to fuck up Nie Mingjue by shattering his sword (which would be catastrophic and is, we are informed, how Nie Mingjue’s dad died). Nie Mingjue is understandably rather displeased by this to the point of probable murder, though Lan Xichen reminds him (as he did in the previous scene) that Meng Yao was acting as a spy and Meng Yao argues that he needed to play his part.

The relationship between the two of them continues to deteriorate as Nie Mingjue becomes more unstable (something that just happens to the Nies by virtue of their cultivation style). That deterioration is being delayed by healing music from Lan Xichen. Lan Xichen teaches Jin Guangyao the healing music. Jin Guangyao seems to be possibly doing something not healing with the healing music.

This all escalates into a confrontation at the top of the stairs of Jinlintai, where Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao argue about class politics and justifiable violence (no, really) until Nie Mingjue explodes and kicks Jin Guangyao down the stairs.

And then proceeds to, as Jin Guangyao looks on, have a qi deviation, which is...well, let’s just call it both a physical and a mental breakdown. Nie Huaisang arrives to see this happening, and while we saw this before and it looked like Nie Mingjue was threatening Nie Huaisang because he didn’t recognize him, this time it is more apparent that he’s directing it at Jin Guangyao.

Next we see, Nie Mingjue is chained to that body sized table in the secret room. Xue Yang is there, and uses Nie Mingjue’s sword to behead Nie Mingjue. He’s psyched as hell about it. If you’re me this is adorable.

And Now Back to Our Regularly Scheduled Programming Arc

Flashback ends! And we are back in Jinlintai. Wei Wuxian goes to get Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen to storm Jin Guangyao’s bedroom, to which Su She objects, but Jin Guangyao eventually allows. They all file together into the secret room and look around, but there is no longer any severed head where Wei Wuxian left it. Whoops.

Then Qin Su kills herself, Jiang Cheng arrives to defuse the situation while Jin Guangyao pleads innocent, and Wei Wuxian, by way of drawing his sword that nobody else could draw before now, reveals that he is, in fact, Wei Wuxian. Everyone in this room actually already knew this information except for Jin Ling, who is not thrilled to discover that his cool uncle is the guy who murdered his parents. Nobody else does a very good job of faking surprise.

Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian make a run for it only to be cornered on the stairs. Extreme romance ensues where Lan Wangji announces his intent to stand by Wei Wuxian forever against the world.

This is where the “I was like, SCREAMS” meme kicks in.

Anyway, after that love confession (look, they can’t say ‘I love you’ but basically) in front of everyone, Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian fight their way out together and are well on the way to freedom when Jin Ling stabs Wei Wuxian.

Nobody is happy about this, including Jin Ling.

Wei Wuxian is okay overall, though he does faint and have to get swept off to the Cloud Recesses and undressed and redressed in Lan Wangji’s underwear. Don’t worry about it. And now it’s time to talk to Lan Xichen, who is currently feeling very “what the hell is going on, you have no proof and are accusing a person I trust completely of something horrible without any proof.”

They still don’t have any proof, but Wei Wuxian reveals that in the flashback he heard Jin Guangyao playing the soothing music but different, and it comes out that there is evil Japanese music that can kill people and be used to poison someone slowly over time. It’s literally this post:

Lan Xichen is not entirely convinced but agrees to investigate; Jin Guangyao comes to Cloud Recesses and has an absolutely heartbreaking conversation with Lan Xichen about how is our friendship over, Zewu--jun :( while Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji eavesdrop.

That conversation isn’t plot important either, I just personally find it very upsetting.

The Burial Mounds, Take Two Arc

Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji leave the Cloud Recesses, heading toward the Burial Mounds because Jin Guangyao mentioned something being up there. But they end up meeting - surprise! - Mianmian, who is living her best life. This is mostly important because she is literally the only female character who makes it out of this show alive.

She mentions that there’s been some trouble around the Burial Mounds, so they head in that direction, running into Wen Ning along the way, who has been following them around because he loves Wei Wuxian. The Burial Mounds are indeed full of active undead and they fight their way up to the old farming commune location, which is less empty than expected because there are a bunch of kids tied up in Wei Wuxian’s old lair/cave/house. Like, all of them. Including Jin Ling, who really is having a terrible time lately, and I just feel the need to note that sometimes.

As they free the children and start to leave, everyone else arrives with the plan of killing Wei Wuxian again, because once wasn’t enough and obviously he’s Up To No Good, where else would these corpses be coming from, huh?

Speaking of corpses.

A small army of them shows up! All the cultivators who aren’t children lose their powers! Everyone has to retreat back into the lair/cave/house where they’ll be safe! So this is all...going well.

Fortunately, everyone being stuck in one place gives Wei Wuxian the opportunity to get his Hercule Poirot on and walk everyone through a series of deductions to get them to a place of realizing that (a) they were poisoned by evil music, (b) the evil music came from Su She, (c) Su She is working for Jin Guangyao who (d) planned all of this whole ‘everyone is going to the Burial Mounds to get killed’ thing.

Su She panics, inadvertently reveals that he alone still has his powers, and teleports out. Wei Wuxian decides that a reasonable solution to all these problems is to make himself bait for all the undead so everyone else can make a run for it, because Wei Wuxian is kind of like that.

It’s okay, though, he and Lan Wangji make a spectacular battle couple.

(Oh, yeah. Throughout here it is becoming increasingly clear that Lan Sizhui’s identity is Significant and actually we Might Have Seen Him Before.)

Back to Lotus Pier Arc, or Jin Ling Has a Very Bad Day, Continued Arc

Safely out of the Burial Mounds thanks to Wei Wuxian, everybody goes ahead and invites themselves back to Jiang Cheng’s house. To be fair, it is closest.

My notes here say “Wen Ning figures out that Lan Sizhui is a-Yuan, Jin Ling has an emotional breakdown” which is a more or less accurate summation of the situation. Honestly, though, I feel so bad for Jin Ling at this point, he’s had an absolute nightmare of a month and then today happened and like. I feel for him.

But Wen Ning reuniting with the last remaining member of his family! Though he doesn’t...actally tell Lan Sizhui this, and Lan Sizhui doesn’t have any memories of his early years.

Jiang Cheng reluctantly allows Wei Wuxian inside. Wen Ning has to stay on the porch, but Lan Sizhui stays with him to keep him company, because he is a good boy.

This next part...hoo boy. It’s a lot of exposition featuring two ladies who appear to relate their stories about Jin Guangyao, featuring the part where he murdered his father by using a bunch of sex workers (who then were murdered in turn, except for one), also involving necrophilia, and the one where Qin Su was Jin Guangyao’s sister, actually, and he knew it and still married her. Sect Leader Bad Takes says that’s probably why Jin Guangyao killed their kid, because children of incest inevitably have developmental problems? Yeah, sure, buddy.

Anyway, everyone starts shouting for Jin Guangyao’s head, which is very familiar to Wei Wuxian, who leaves in some disgust. While wandering with Lan Wangji, they wind up going to the family shrine (which is, to be clear, a pretty sacred place). Which is where Jiang Cheng finds them! And once again they have a reasonable and emotionally steady conversation.

Nope. Jiang Cheng talks shit trying to provoke a fight that Wei Wuxian won’t have. As he and Lan Wangji attempt to leave, Jiang Cheng pursues because he’s not done yelling dammit, lashing out with Zidian. Wei Wuxian faints, and Wen Ning arrives to stand in between him and Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng, holding Wei Wuxian’s sheathed sword (remember, the one nobody other than Wei Wuxian can draw). Wen Ning proceeds to initiate one of the single best devastating beatdowns of the show without laying a hand on Jiang Cheng, specifically by shoving the sword at Jiang Cheng and telling him to draw it, because hey you can do that now! Wonder why that is? Wouldn’t you like to know what’s going on there, Jiang Wanyin?

Remember way back when Jiang Cheng lost his core and got it back because Wei Wuxian gave him his core? Yeah, this is when he finds out about that. Psych! Your brother loves you and also the only reason you got to be as strong as you are is because he sacrificed himself for you! Which is also the reason why he took up demonic cultivation in the first place!

Seriously, it’s so good, I love this scene. Probably one of my favorites in the whole show.

Jiang Cheng runs away; Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian have a moment on a lake where Lan Wangji indulges Wei Wuxian by eating stolen lotuses with him. It’s sweeter than it sounds when I put it like that.

Guanyin Temple Arc

oh god, how do I. how do I describe Guanyin Temple. partially this is hard because by virtue of censorship about dead bodies, among probably other things, there are huge gaps that make portions of it make no sense so I’m gonna go ahead and...fill in some of those that are intelligible pretty much only with some knowledge of book plot, imo.

Wen Ning, Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian go to a place called Yunping because Jin Guangyao bought some land there for some reason. There they find a slightly suspicious temple (Guanyin Temple). They come back at night, leaving Wen Ning to stand guard, and spy on the courtyard, where a bunch of conspicuously armed monks are there, along with Lan Xichen aaaaand...Jin Guangyao.

Jin Ling arrives! And decides it’s a good idea to climb over the wall. Wei Wuxian blocks someone from shooting him by using the bamboo flute he’s been using this whole time, so he now functionally has no weapon, and also he and Lan Wangji have been exposed, so now the two of them and also Jin Ling are in the courtyard. Lan Xichen admits he was tricked and doesn’t have any of his powers. Jin Guangyao threatens Lan Wangji into sealing his by threatening Wei Wuxian with a wire. It’s sexy.

Everybody goes inside the temple, where several monks are digging up something ??? under the floor. This is never explained and that is because it is supposed to be Jin Guangyao’s mother’s body, and there are very strict rules I understand about what can be done with dead bodies in dramas like this one. Anyway, Jin Guangyao loved his mom very much and built a temple where she was buried where the statue has her face. He is exhuming her so he can take her body with him when he flees the country, which is what he was planning here. Of course, now he has a bunch of unwanted hostages (and one wanted hostage), which was not actually part of the plan.

The next person to join the party is an unconscious Nie Huaisang, brought in by Su She, who basically says “I have no idea what he was doing here but...here he is” and Jin Guangyao is like. Well, guess he’s here now.

Next to show up is Jiang Cheng! Making an excellent and extremely dramatic entrance. Unfortunately, he still gets injured and taken down as Jin Guangyao starts poking at his very obvious emotional weak spots, including revealing that Jiang Cheng knows about the golden core thing. Wei Wuxian, who did not know that secret came out because he was unconscious at the time, goes “wait, what?” and thus ensues the epic emotional catharsis crying and yelling conversation I was waiting for for 47 episodes. Seriously, it’s really good. They end up in a place where all is not solved but things are...maybe a little better?

Of course, they’re still hostages.

Meanwhile, back at the dig site, something gets unearthed that is not Jin Guangyao’s mother’s body but is in fact a coffin with Nie Mingjue’s body, now complete with head, in it. The reveal also drops here that Su She has the marks that indicate he cast the curse on Jin Zixun that Jin Zixun accused Wei Wuxian of casting.

A very ugly argument ensues where everyone is poking at everyone else’s things that they’re sensitive about, until finally Lan Xichen recovers his powers and turns the tables on Jin Guangyao by putting a sword to his neck.

The next part is basically...explaining how all the bad things that happened were Jin Guangyao’s fault? Or at least that’s the explanation given. I find it personally very frustrating as a narrative choice and sort of unnecessary, but maybe that’s just me. Anyway, Jin Guangyao is pleading for mercy from Lan Xichen, saying he’ll leave and never return, the whole thing is very emotional.

We also find out that Jin Guangshan kicked Jin Guangyao down the stairs. People really need to stop doing that.

And now Wen Ning arrives! Punting Lan Sizhui in ahead of him. He is possessed by a very angry sword spirit (namely, Baxia). Lan Wangji cuts off Jin Guangyao’s right arm, because Lan Wangji likes doing that, apparently. Baxia-possessed Wen Ning then targets Jin Ling because Jin Ling has Jin Guangyao’s blood on him - only for Wen Ning to stop the blade with his bare hand and save Jin Ling’s life, because Wen Ning is both a badass and very good.

Jiang Cheng throws Wei Wuxian his old flute, which he apparently has just been keeping under his bed or something for sixteen years, which is a thing that I will always never be over, and Wei Wuxian flutes the very angry sword into the Nie Mingjue-holding coffin.

Which would be fine, only then Nie Huaisang starts yelling about how Su She totally stabbed him, no, really, look, he’s bleeding. Baxia kills Su She. Then Wei Wuxian manages to put the sword back in the coffin, as well as the Yin Tiger Seal, and locks both away.

Whew.

Everybody’s sitting down and recovering a little as Lan Xichen tends Jin Guangyao’s wounds. He turns around to get medicine from Nie Huaisang, who tells him to look out because Jin Guangyao is attacking you!!!

Lan Xichen runs Jin Guangyao through.

Oh boy.

Jin Guangyao is a little impressed about Nie Huaisang having been plotting this all along. Because he was. He absolutely was. He’s absolutely been planning this for years. Everybody needs a hobby.

But it’s Lan Xichen who he really addresses here, telling him that he’d never hurt him. The actual line really hurts but I’m trying to not reproduce lines here, except I am going to say that he drags Lan Xichen - still with a sword through him! - deeper into the temple and says “stay and die with me” as the temple starts to collapse. Lan Xichen, who was about to strike and presumably push himself away, lowers his hand, and Jin Guangyao abruptly pushes him away and out of the collapsing building.

Romance!

(No, but seriously, it’s a lot.)

Thus ends Jin Guangyao.

Outside in the courtyard, everyone’s taking a breather. Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian stare longingly at each other across the room and say nothing. Jiang Cheng walks away and we learn that - surprise! - the reason Jiang Cheng was caught by the Wens way back when is because he was keeping the Wens from catching Wei Wuxian instead.

Everybody in this family in just a big circle of self sacrifice. In the words of Wen Qing:

(Who misses Wen Qing? I do!)

Anyway, Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian leave with each other, only to be caught on the road by Lan Sizhui and Wen Ning - Lan Sizhui, who has remembered that he was a-Yuan and finally someone tells Wei Wuxian this, and ahhhh, okay, I know what I said about limiting screencaps but I can’t not:

Now that’s what I call a hug!

They part ways again, Lan Sizhui leaving with Wen Ning for some family time and for Wen Ning to find his own way. Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian...seem like they’re going in different directions, but then they’re at Cloud Recesses together, playing music, hanging out, vibing. They talk to Nie Huaisang, but don’t directly confront him about his scheming. Mostly just making sure he’s not, you know, gonna do anything else.

Then Wei Wuxian leaves to go on a roadtrip to find himself. People really do not like this, but I personally really do like this, especially because the last shots of the show are Wei Wuxian playing his and Lan Wangji’s theme song (the one that Lan Wangji wrote, remember, from the cave? It’s come up a lot, I just haven’t mentioned it here), and when he finishes Lan Wangji’s voice says “Wei Ying” and he turns around and just like. Smiles. It’s scrunchy and happy and perfect.

Like this:

aaaaaaand scene! fifty episodes later your life has been ruined and you will never be the same.

and the thing is that this is leaving out, like. a lot, and probably is biased because I focus on different things than another person would, &c &c, but at least it might be a starting point for...the entire plot.

and also congratulations if you made it this far, I am impressed. have a screenshot of wei wuxian as a reward, whose mental breakdown does make him look sexy

you’re welcome.

#anonymous #conversating #HOLY SHIT THAT WENT SOMEWHERE #anon if this isn't what you wanted....i'm very sorry send me another ask and i can link you to someone else's summary #but i started going and then i couldn't stop #and now here we are #the sad queer cultivators show #you know what i am going to tag this because it was kind of a lot of work #the untamed #cql #thanks for reading this and making sure it made any kind of sense james #lise does meta #i guess??????

104 notes · View notes

ibijau · 4 years ago

Note

I am 100% interested in NHS thinks he's Wen Chao and adopts Xue Yang. Super excited to see it. --HLS

were, here comes the first chapter Xue Yang's Master, or also on AO3

People said that the cultivators’ war was over, and that Qishan Wen had lost. For the folks of Yueyang, it came as a bit of a surprise, since they’d lived all their lives in the shadow of that great sect. Certainly the local sect was Yueyang Chang, and it was to them that most problems were addressed, but it was well known that the real power lay in Qishan. Chang Ci’an tried to pretend he was only putting up with the Wen because of the proximity, but everyone knew he wouldn't have gotten away with half the things he did if he weren’t hugging Wen Ruohan’s knees every chance he got.

And now, Wen Ruohan was dead.

There were all sorts of rumours about that, and no two people could agree on what had happened exactly. Some said it was Nie Mingjue, that great general of the Sunshot Campaign. Others whispered about a Jin spy, or else about his chief torturer who’d felt the wind turn and had decided to be on the right side of history to save his skin. And that was just the most believable rumours, there were also wilder stories repeated and twisted as they travelled from one person to the next. The only thing that never changed, in every story, was that Wen Ruohan had died.

Ultimately, that was all Xue Yang cared about.

With Wen Ruohan dead, his lackey Chang Ci’an was about to find himself in a very delicate position, and the entire town with him, even though most of them didn’t have anything to do with that cultivators’ war. Quite a few people had decided to flee, just in case, and Xue Yang was among them.

It’d been easy, for him, to leave the city where he’d lived all his life. He didn’t have elderly relatives or younger siblings to worry about, since he’d been on his own since quite young. He also didn’t own too much, just some coins he’d stolen here and there, and a cultivation manual that probably wasn’t a real one anyway, but which he clung to just in case. He’d neatly wrapped all that in his second sect of clothes, the ones he used when he went to pickpocket in more affluent neighbourhoods, stolen a bunch of food from the other kids he was sharing an abandoned house with, and then he had just left.

Most people, as they ran from Yueyang, were trying to go east or south, as far away from Qishan as possible, just in case the victors who had conquered that city decided they hadn’t had enough bloodbath yet. Xue Yang, personally, had decided he’d go south, because he knew someone in a place named Kuizhou who would surely find something for him to do, if he said he needed a job. But since quite a few of the richer folks seemed to be headed east, Xue Yang decided he’d go that way first, just for a few days.

By day three, Xue Yang’s little bundle was a lot heavier than it had been when he’d left Yueyang, and it tended to go clink-clinkif he moved a little too fast. Xue Yang hadn’t survived thirteen years by thinking only other people got robbed, so he decided to play it careful and to leave the main road behind for a bit. He’d also stolen a lot of food from careless rich idiots, anyway, so as long as he didn’t get lost, he’d be fine.

The first night after leaving the road behind, Xue Yang slept in an abandoned house in the woods. Or, well, somewhat abandoned. It was a decrepit old place, and the previous owner was still in his bed, almost entirely rotten away. The man had been dead so long he didn’t even smell, for which Xue Yang was half glad. He took out the semi-articulated skeleton and laid it down among the weedy place behind the house that might have been a garden once, not out of respect, but because he hoped to sleep in the bed himself. A vain hope. Most of the bedding had rotten alongside the corpse on it, meaning the dirt floor would be less disgusting to sleep on.

Xue Yang didn’t mind too much. He’d slept in much worse places.

Come morning, he’d checked if there was anything valuable to grab in that small house, then went on his merry way, in the direction he thought had to be south.

It had been easy enough, at first, to know which way he was going. Even a city kid like him knew where the sun rose. But then the forest got denser, and he didn’t see the sun again for a good while, not until roughly noon. At that point, Xue Yang had no idea which way was south or east, and he realised he wouldn’t be able to tell again until later, when he’d see the sun start setting.

Maybe avoiding the main road hadn’t been quite as smart as he’d thought. But then again, between that and risking having his precious loot stolen by someone bigger and stronger than him… he’d rather die in this stupid forest than let anyone take what had become his.

Figuring he couldn’t do much except wait, Xue Yang looked around for a comfortable sitting place and spotted a few fallen trees that would fit the bill nicely. He walked there, jumped on one of the trunks, and discovered a dead man there, hidden from view between two of the trees.

Well, a dead boy, anyway. He didn’t look that much older than Xue Yang, but he was very richly dressed, for someone lost in this stupid forest. It was a shame that most of his clothes were ruined by all the blood that came from a stab wound in his chest and a gash on the side of his head. Xue Yang could have sold that for a fortune. In fact, even with the stains, it might be worth trying to sell. And then there was a dainty little gold guan in his hair, the rings on his hands, and the sword next to him, just as bloodied as the rest of him but clearly of excellent quality and with an elegant sun engraved on the handle. Xue Yang could sell that and buy a horse for his trip south, and then he’d surely no longer have to worry about other thieves if he could just outrun them, right?

Already trying to guess how much he might get from this, Xue Yang bent over the corpse and pulled in its clothes in search of ties.

The next thing he knew he was lying on his back a few feet away from the body, his ears ringing from hitting the ground too hard, his chest hurting as if he’d been punched.

So maybe someone wasn’t quite dead yet, then. Xue Yang hurried to jump on his feet in case the older boy was going to put up a fight, but the rich kid remained motionless on the forest ground, one trembling hand still raised from having pushed Xue Yang away. Very soon that hand was allowed to fall down again, and Xue Yang approached the boy again, more cautiously this time.

The rich kid was barely breathing, but now that Xue Yang knew he was alive, he could see the very slow rise and fall of his chest, too slow to be normal, even for a dying person. Between this, his unexpected strength, and the sword he had, Xue Yang guessed that the boy he’d found wasn’t just an ordinary person.

Which meant that sword had to be worth even more than he’d first thought. Cultivator swords could buy a whole farm, and servants to work it for you, or so Xue Yang had heard. If he could find the right buyer, he’d be set for life, never having to worry about anything ever again. And all he had to do was wait for a rich kid to die, which would happen soon enough. Cultivator or not, those were some nasty wounds. The one on his head looked like it might have been accidental, as if he’d taken a bad fall, but there had to have been intent when he’d been stabbed, and that kid just didn’t look strong enough to last on his own. He’d die before morning, either of exposure or finished off by some animal.

Well, Xue Yang didn’t mind waiting.

The boy, however, seemed to have different ideas. Through some great effort, he turned to look at Xue Yang, looking him over as if trying to assess his worth. People did that a lot, and they rarely liked what they saw in him. But that rich kid must have been really desperate.

“Save me,” he gasped weakly. “He’ll find me. Save me.”

“Who will find you?” Xue Yang asked, finding a comfortable position to sit on one of the fallen trees, so he could watch the boy die.

“He tried to kill me. I don’t know him. He’ll find me. He was so angry…”

Xue Yang frowned at the news. Of course, that rich kid hadn’t ended up like that without a little help. If there was a stabbee, then there had to be a stabber, it only made sense. Xue Yang didn’t particularly care about the life of this complete stranger, but he did care about someone coming to finish the job and taking away the corpse and all those precious items on it. It was Xue Yang’s dream farm at risk there, and he couldn’t allow it.

One option, he thought, was to kill that kid himself and then take what he’d earned before fleeing the scene. But that carried the risk of being discovered by the murderer, who had to be a cultivator as well, since no ordinary person could have harmed a cultivator. Then Xue Yang would be in trouble, with the murderer either trying to kill him as well, or at least forcing him to leave without his loot.

The other option, then, was to take the rich kid somewhere safe and keep him hidden until he did die. The little house where Xue Yang had spent the night wasn’t so far off, if he took that boy there, then the rich kid could die quietly, and Xue Yang could steal all the stuff he wouldn’t need anymore due to being dead.

It was the perfect plan.

The hardest part of that plan was getting the rich kid out of his hiding place. He was half stuck among those fallen trees, and kept moaning miserably as Xue Yang pulled on his limbs to unstuck him. It took effort, especially when Xue Yang had to frequently stop to make sure the boy’s murderer wasn’t around, but he eventually managed to get him out of that spot. Then it was just a matter of pulling him by the arms on the forest ground, since Xue Yang wasn’t quite strong enough to carry him. The boy, at first, wailed weakly and cried upon being dragged around like this, but he eventually passed out and turned quite grey.

He was just passed out: Xue Yang checked. But he also wasn’t bleeding anymore, which had to mean he’d die soon.

Luckily, it wasn’t so hard to find the way back to the abandoned little house. At that point, the sun had started setting, so Xue Yang was once again able to use it as a reference point, and he got them to their destination a little before night. Once there, he managed to put the rich kid onto the bed, figuring it probably wouldn’t bother him that someone else had died there not too long ago. And it really wouldn’t be much longer now, because the older boy was deathly pale yet almost burning to the touch, a bad combination. In his experience, anyone who got sick enough to run a high fever had a seventy-five percent chance to die unless they could afford a doctor, or even higher. He’d been close to it himself, when he’d been young and stupid enough to think a cruel man would give him candies for carrying a letter, and just like that rich kid, he’d had nobody to take care of him.

Just like that rich kid, he’d have died alone.

And the rich kid would be alone indeed, because Xue Yang went to sit outside the house to have a dinner of whatever stolen food he had that could be eaten cold. It wasn’t that it bothered him to see someone die, and more that he was still worried about the rich kid’s murderer sneaking on them while he wasn’t paying attention. So he stayed up the entire night, paying attention to the forest’s every noise.

People said nature was quiet, but it was almost as busy as in the city, Xue Yang realised, what with the insects and the foxes and the who-knew-what running around. More than once, he found himself reaching for the rich kid’s sword and jumping to his feet, ready to protect his loot against whatever might threaten it, but nothing bigger than a mouse ever came close. He thought he saw a fox also, but he wasn’t even sure.

The biggest danger in that forest that night was Xue Yang himself, and that was just how he liked it.

#xue yang #nie huaisang #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes #nhs is wc au #I'll let you decide who actually adopts who in here lol

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athys-obelia · 4 years ago

Text

hey hey hey.

so like i had a thought?

au where felix notices how down diana is about her pregnancy and approaches her. she confides in him - she's afraid for her child, any complications with their health, their future, everything. the chance she is betting on is a good life for her child with their father, but...she cannot foresee the future, after all. diana has worries as any new mother would.

(under cut for length)

and after pondering on it, felix proposes an idea: what if he could garuntee this child's safety? diana had already expressed her will to make him their godfather, shouldn't he rise to the occasion? you should run away, he tells her, and spend the rest of your pregnancy at one of my father's estates.

she agrees, albeit hesitantly. he's been distancing himself from her - claude - ever since the pregnancy, but she visits him on her last night at the palace. it is a horrible night - all goodbyes are - and claude seems to sense something. he asks of her to spend the night, and diana can't find it within herself to reject the request. she'll just have to slip during at night, she thinks.

she spends her final trimester on robane lands, under the care and knowledge of felix's father as the knight spearheads the quiet search for the emperor's favorite concubine. she feels strangely at peace.

the search intensifies as her due date nears, and the week of athanasia's birth, everything...stops. duke robane explains the emperor cannot make the loss of an heir public knowledge, and has ordered the destruction of ruby palace. the concubines have been dismissed.

diana receives a special visit a few hours before going into labour - before her is a beautiful brunette with determined eyes. diana's body grows weaker by the day, she has been bedridden for the past few days, but she feels content. her child will be fine. so will her lover. claude may think her selfish after this, though she supposes if it can garuntee her baby's smile, she will accept it. she can be selfish if needed.

the obelian skies mirror the chaotic silence within the imperial palace. the young emperor has not made an appearance in the audience hall for days. his tailor has not received any orders for the usual military attire lately - rather, the instructions detail a simplistic, pure white fabric, as if...almost as if he were in mourning. the eerie calm seems to foreshow a storm.

and amidst the rain and thunder roaring across the empire, under the gaze of an ever loyal knight and a young lady, a princess is born quiet. her declining breaths reflect her mother's. "she has your eyes, my lady," says lilian york, "her father's beautiful colouring, but the strength is from you. the strength you have given her. she will live with power."

"and love?" the new mother asks weakly.

"lots," the knight swears. "a child borne of love deserves nothing less."

she is safe, my daughter - my daughter is...

by the end of the week, the imperial directory is edited at the command of his majesty, the emperor. a new name is added.

athanasia de alger obelia.

lilian york sighs at the babe in her arms. "the undying...what a cruel joke. his majesty can't possibly know whether lady diana or the little princess are still alive."

"no - it is the name lady diana expressed her partiality for," felix says with a slight smile, "it is a dare."

little athanasia groans.

athanasia de alger obelia - or, more commonly, athanasia robane - has seen many families. lilian does not what to say when the princess wonders why she cannot call her 'mother'. why she cannot address the men she believes to be her father and grandfather as such, why her grandfather refers to her as 'my lady'.

at the age of four, athanasia has stopped asking such questions. lilian cannot help but marvel at the way she avoids the topic with an intelligence that should realistically be far beyond her years.

athanasia's grandfather has made habit of asking her the same question as he tucks her in every night. "are you happy, my lady?"

she nods every time - it is such an obvious answer, after all. "athy is so happy, grandpapa! thiiiiis much!! why do you always ask that?"

her grandfather smiles. athy loves that her grandfather smiles so much. "i come from a family of knights, my lady. we are taught to honour our promises first and foremost."

"did you promise someone you would keep me happy, grandpapa?"

duke robane raises an amused eyebrow. "aren't you chatty today? get some sleep, sweet one. i will be here in the morning."

he always is.

duke robane tends to frequent the palace often. today, however, is a special day.

"were you on your way to the hall?" the emperor inquires, running into the red haired noble on his walk.

he bows in greeting. "i was not. i did not wish to bother you today, your majesty. i know you do not like to be disturbed during this time of year."

claude rather likes duke robane. he is relatively tolerable, like an older, wiser version of felix. "then what are doing outside the palace?"

"i was on my way to town, your majesty, with a... family member. her birthday is arriving soon, you see, but she was quite taken with your beautiful gardens, so i let her wander outside - i wouldn't dare allow her inside without your majesty's approval, of course."

claude raises an eyebrow. "a family member?"

"my granddaughter, sire."

claude glances at felix curiously. "i was not aware of this... development. how many children are you fathering when you're not bothering me?"

felix snorts.

"er...a foster granddaughter, your majesty."

"i do not see her here. i assume she is felix's current heir, is she not? i should be offended you have not introduced us."

"she is playing a game, sire," duke robane explains, "she has gone to hide and i am to find her. it is called hide and seek, as i am told."

he winces at the familiar voice calling out, "grandpapa!! look at this shiny flowe-"

little athanasia's face pales.

"my lady, meet his majesty, the emperor of the Obelian empire."

the blonde princess clutches her grandfather's sleeve. "from... from athy's books?"

felix cannot tear his gaze away from the emperor's face - or rather, the jewelled eyes that stare at his goddaughter.

claude could laugh. that face, even with her eyes matching the prominent robane silvery eyes...felix must really take him for an idiot, he thinks. really, he should be offended. he remembers putting felix in charge of the search years ago... lying to the emperor? disguising a member of the imperial family to pass off as their own? in what land would this not be a crime?

still, this...this 'athy' looks happy. or looked happy, before she saw him. only a fool would grow to be jovial in the palace, so claude wonders whether thank you may be in order for keeping his child so cheery.

then again, this said under the assumption that he would've kept the child alive in the first place.

claude glances at duke robane - the man is usually so poised, he thinks he'll have some fun while this little charade is up.

"what is your name?" he asks blankly.

the duke interjects, "we call her athy, sire. the name athena truly fits her - she is a very bright child."

ah, interesting...felix's father seems to both be smarter and care for the girl more than claude initially credited him.

"hide and seek," claude muses, barely making an effort to hide his smirk, "so, you've finally decided to come out of hiding."

"i was on my way to the lake. get ready to join me."

duke robane glances at five year old athanasia - she had been called to the palace for tea with the emperor once, after which their little tea parties became something of a common occurrence. he had faced hell and beyond trying to keep it under wraps - at least felix's position as the emperor's guard was a comfort.

"your majesty, forgive me, but the lady hasn't learnt to swim. i fear it may be dangerous."

athanasia shoots him a look - don't argue with the emperor, grandpapa!

"what's there to worry about when she's with me?" claude asks, eyebrow quirked, "besides. the three of you should be quite used to playing dangerous games by now."

felix sputters. "your, your majesty?"

yes, dealing with house robane is much more entertaining than roger alpheus could hope to be...

"what was it? hide and seek. your daughter could get lost, isn't that sort of thing very dangerous?"

athanasia raises an eyebrow at him, unimpressed, as felix flushes red. claude finds himself wondering - not for the first time - what goes inside her head? it's not uncommon for this child of five to react with the maturity of an adult, intriguingly.

"lets go, uncle!" she exclaims, offering him her hand as he's seen the duke and felix hold it often. she interwined her fingers with his once he accepts her hand. so small, it is. small and soft, as if he could crush her with the littlest force.

claude stares at her platinum blonde hair, a hint of a smile playing on his features. "robane has gotten quite daring lately. of course, a bold house will raise a bold child."

"grandpapa?"

duke robane glances at the blonde in his doorway - how out of place her bright hair had once looked, bouncing around in contrast to the rich, deep browns and reds of the robane mansion. the estate seems to lose life whenever his foster granddaughter visits the palace, now. as per their little custom, she visits him in his study at her return. "my lady. come."

"i have to greet lily soon or she'll get mad. she hates when i meet you without being dressed for it. but i really wanted to see grandpapa." she grins brightly, and he thinks her smile is the gods compensating for the moon's quiet glow. the princess takes her place on his lap. "what are you doing, grandpapa?"

"there's some trouble at the border. i'm only looking over our damages, i'll be done soon."

athanasia's grandpapa has never once dismissed her questions claiming she's too young. he's never withheld knowledge she's asked for. sure, he makes it so the terms are easier for her to understand, but she's never been out of the loop. "how has the emperor been to you, sweet one?"

"i almost called him daddy today," she admits, feeling her grandfather's hand on her shoulder tighten.

"oh?"

athanasia chuckles. "well, that's a lie. i did call him that. but...he seemed okay with it."

"truly?"

"yeah! he's so odd. he even told me i should stop wearing so much red and black."

"what did you say to that?" the duke asks.

"i told him they were my house colours, obviously. i can't just stop wearing my house colours! he said purple suits me better. i mean, if i was his daughter or something i could wear a lot of purple. it's the imperial family's colour, isn't it?"

he clears his throat. "...you were at the palace for the entire day, my dear, weren't you bored?"

"not really. oh! i met a magician today too."

"a magician?"

"mhm! everyone at the palace is so weird, honestly. apparently he's been sleeping there ever since emperor aeternitas? i don't know, he was really strange."

"emperor aeternitas? from nearly two hundred years ago? what else do you remember about this mage, my lady?"

she presses her finger to her chin. "to tell you the truth, grandpapa, he was very pretty. like...really pretty."

athanasia's grandfather gives her a smile she has learnt to be vary of. "are you interested in this magician, my child? i don't mind extending an invitation for the pair of you to become better acquainted."

"grandpapa! when will you stop trying to become a matchmaker?"

duke robane sighs playfully. "i'm only thinking of your future, my lady. your debutante is not too far - you will need an escort to dance the night away with."

she pouts. "i can dance with you, grandpapa."

he chuckles, and the silence stretches until athanasia breaks it once more, murmuring a soft, "no."

"no?" her grandfather echoes, confused.

"that's a 7," she says, pointing towards the document he's been working on. "not 3, that was last time. grandpapa told me the border towns have a larger population now, so that needs to be factored in, doesn't it?"

duke robane studies the calculation, the surprise evident in his sharp features. "hm?...you're right, thank you."

she grins. "i've been working on my sums lately! aren't you proud of me, grandpapa?"

"always, sweet one. you're very smart to be at this level so young."

athanasia beams. "i mean, you taught me everything so it's almost like you're praising yourself, you know?" her grandfather laughs at that, the sound deep and familiar. "anyway, are these real gold? they're very pretty." she gestures towards a box of earrings resting on her grandfather's desk.

"they were your mother's," the duke tells her, feeling the girl stiffen. "i planned to give them to you at your return."

"they're very...siodonnan," she remarks almost awkwardly. "very pretty."

"she wanted you to have them. apparently they were a gift."

"oh."

he confirms with a slight chuckle, "they are gold, authentic. that fascinates you, doesn't it? you've always been quite taken with shiny things, ever since you were a child. your grandfather was like that too, athanasia."

"you're like that?"

the duke of house robane blinks in surprise once. then twice.

felix stares at the eleven year old in the emperor's bed. blonde hair spilled all over the pillows, her frail body hidden under the covers. how...?

he hadn't registered the passage of time at all. the emperor's index and middle fingers rest on athanasia's forehead, his own creased in concentration and annoyance. felix can't even help the fury building within himself.

"your majesty," he begins cautiously - claude has been a wild card ever since watching his daughter cough up blood at the breakfast table. the massacre everyone was on edge about eleven years ago at ruby palace would've been inevitable yesterday had athanasia's childhood friend - the mage - not arrived as early as he had. "you should rest."

claude's gaze turns to him dangerously. "do not tell me to rest when-"

the girl stirs uncomfortably, her eyes opening. she glances at felix before tugging on her father's sleeve weakly. "papa...?" tears prick at the corner of the young princess's eyes.

oh, that's right - felix remembers his father having the talk with the princess a few months ago. she had accepted the new information quietly, and rather quickly, to the both robane mens' surprise. the princess had started bringing her father flowers on her visits from then, and as if in return, claude had an entire garden in built where ruby palace would've been.

the emperor's hand returns to his daughter's forehead and she blinks sleepily a few times before drifting right back to sleep. the magic has long worn off - neither father nor daughter had flinched at the sight of her shimmering blue eyes. if anything, felix had seen claude's shoulders relax.

the emperor lets out a small sigh. "i will not be here when she wakes." he traces the soft collar of her purple nightgown. "and should she consent, see to it that athanasia moves into emerald palace by the end of the month. she has been fostered long enough."

oh, his father would definitely not like that.

"are you mad, papa?" athanasia asks, the sequins of her debutante dress glittering bright u der the lights of the hall..

"why would i be? did someone dare say something to y-"

she latches onto his arm before her father has a chance to finish. "no! nobody could dare offend me on my debut. especially when i have you by my side."

"then you do you ask?"

she plays with the intricate patterns on the arm of his outfit. "because i refused to move in with you? trust me, papa, i didn't mean to hurt you at all...i was only..." scared. it was at the debutante, wasn't it? when you chose jennette over the real athy.

"it was simply your choice," the emperor tells her flatly. "and i seem to recall you delaying it. not refusing."

athanasia laughs sheepishly. "that's right. i don't want to force myself into your life. i really love our time together though, papa."

her breath hitches as claude halts in his step. his hand raises to her jawline, thumb brushing against against her earrings. "where...? where did you..."

"papa? do you need to sit down?"

it does the trick, snapping her father out of whatever trance he had been under.

"won't you dance again? i'll be here," he encourages, and athanasia nods. she's shared one with her godfather, one with ezekiel alpheus...

"what are you doing here, your highness?" duke robane inquires, separating himself from his conversation partners.

"won't you dance with me, grandpapa?"

the duke can't help but smile at the way she addresses him. "you were escorted by his majesty, sweet one. why do you wish to spend your precious time with this lowly servant?"

"grandpapa!"

he sighs with a fond smile. "alright, alright. but even dancing with fathers is out of fashion nowadays, princess. and you're here, asking me?"

she frowns, unimpressed. "i think you don't want to dance because you're so tall. are you calling me unskilled?"

he gives her a charming smile. "how could i dare?"

"don't you remember, grandpapa? in your study?" she extends her hand with a familiar smirk, "i come from a family of knights, my lord. we are taught to honour our promises first and foremost."

and really, when has duke robane ever been able to refuse his granddaughter?

a/n: literally what is this. why is this. when i say i only meant to write a drabble-

but!! duke robane never hesitates in standing up for his granddaughter, even against the emperor! athy and found family!! honestly i love the dukes' conflict here - alpheus with jennette and robane with athy :)

claude and his subtle shade 🙃

lily and the robanes honoring their promise to diana and teaching athy both love and strength <3

the magic explosion thing happened much later, and with slightly different claude/athy dynamics - he certainly can't take her presence for granted, she doesn't doesn't even live with him yet (she wants to!! the insecurities around jennette are just acting up rn)

athy will have support during amnesia arc + ana's antics!!!

#athanasia robane au!!#all i want is happy athy ok #who made me a princess #suddenly became a princess one day #wmmap #sbapod #athanasia #claude de alger obelia #felix robane #athanasia de alger obelia #duke robane #lilian york #diana of siodonna

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