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lokiondisneyplus · 3 years

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A review of “Journey Into Mystery,” the penultimate Loki Season One episode on Disney+, coming up just as soon as I paper cut a giant cloud to death…

Journey Into Mystery was the title of the first Marvel comic to feature either Thor or Loki. It began as an anthology series featuring monsters and aliens, but Jack Kirby, Stan Lee, and Larry Lieber were so smitten with their adaptation of the characters of Norse myth that the Asgardians gradually took over the whole book, which was renamed after its hammer-wielding hero(*).

(*) The early Journey Into Mystery stories treated Thor’s alter ego, disabled Dr. Donald Blake, as the “real” character, while Thor was just someone Blake could magically transform into, while retaining his memories and personality. It wasn’t even clear whether Asgard itself was meant to exist at first, until Loki turned up on Earth in an early issue, caused trouble, and Blake/Thor somehow knew exactly how to get to Asgard to drop him off. Soon, the lines between Thor and Blake began to blur, and eventually Thor became the real guy, and Blake a fiction invented by Odin to humble his arrogant son. It’s a mark of just how instantly charismatic Loki was that the entire title quickly steered towards him and the other gods.

But once upon a time, anything was possible in Journey Into Mystery, which makes it an apt moniker for an absolutely wonderful episode of Loki where the same holds true. Our title characters are trapped in the Void, a place at the end of time where the TVA’s victims are banished to be devoured by a cloud monster named Alioth. And mostly they are surrounded by the wreckage of many dead timelines. Classic Loki insists that his group’s only goal is survival, and any kind of planning and scheming is doomed to kill the Loki who tries. But this ruined, hopeless world instead feels bursting with imagination and possibility.

There are the many Loki variants we see, with President Loki, among others, joining Classic, Kid, Boastful, and Alligator Loki. There are the metric ton of Easter Eggs just waiting to be screencapped by Marvel obsessives (I discuss a few of them down below), but which still suggest a much larger and weirder MCU even if you don’t immediately scream out “Is that… THROG?!?!?” at the appropriate moment. And all of that stuff is tons of fun, to be sure. But what makes this episode — and, increasingly, this series — feel so special is the way that it explores the untapped potential of Loki himself, in his many, many variations.

This is an episode that owes more than a small stylistic and thematic debt to Lost. It’s not just that Alioth looks and sounds so much like the Smoke Monster(*), that it makes a shared Wizard of Oz reference to “the man behind the curtain” (also the title of one of the very best Lost episodes), or even that the core group of Lokis are hiding in a bunker accessible via a hatch and a ladder that’s filled with recreational equipment (in this case, bowling alley lanes). It’s also that Loki, Sylvie, their counterparts, and Mobius have all been transported to a strange place that has disturbing echoes from their own lives, that operates according to strange new rules they have to learn while fleeing danger, and their presence there allows them to reflect on the many mistakes of their past and consider whether they want to, or can, transcend them.

(*) Yes, Alioth technically predates Smokey by a decade (see the notes below for more), but his look has been tweaked a bit here to seem more like smoke than a cloud, and the sounds he makes when he roars sound a lot like Smokey’s telltale taxi cab meter clicks. Given the other Lost hat tips in the episode, I have to believe Alioth was chosen specifically to evoke Smokey.

Classic Loki is aptly named. He wears the Sixties Jack Kirby costume, and he is a far more powerful magician than either Sylvie or our Loki have allowed themselves to be. He calls our Loki’s knives worthless compared to his sorcery, which feels like the show acknowledging that the movies depowered Loki a fair amount to make him seem cooler. But if Classic Loki can conjure up illusions bigger and more potent than his younger peers, he is a fundamentally weak and defeated man, convinced, like the others, that the only way to win the game into which he was born is not to play. “We cannot change,” he insists. “We’re broken. Every version of ourselves. Forever.” It is not only his sentiment — Kid Loki adds that any Loki who tries to improve inevitably winds up in the Void for their troubles — but it seems to have weighed on him longer and harder than most.

But Classic Loki takes inspiration from Loki and Sylvie to stand and fight rather than turn and run, magicking up a vision of their homeland to distract Alioth at a crucial moment in Sylvie’s plan, and getting eaten for his trouble. He was wrong: Lokis can change. (Though Kid Loki might once again argue that Classic Loki’s death is more evidence that the universe has no interest in any of them doing so.) And both Loki and Sylvie have been changing throughout their time together. Like most Lokis, they seem cursed to a life of loneliness. Sylvie learned as a child that a higher power believed she should not exist, and has spent a lifetime hiding out in places where any friends she might make will soon die in an apocalypse. Our Loki’s past isn’t quite so stark, but the knowledge that his birth father abandoned him, while his adoptive father never much liked him, have left permanent scars that govern a lot of his behavior. The defining element of Classic Loki’s backstory is that he spent a long time alone on a planet, and only got busted by the TVA when he attempted to reconnect with his brother and anyone else he once knew. This is a hard existence, for all of them. And while it does not forgive them their many sins(*), it helps contextualize them, and give them the knowledge to try to be better versions of themselves.

(*) Loki at one point even acknowledges that, for him, it’s probably only been a few days since he led an alien invasion of New York that left many dead, though due to TVA shenanigans, far more time may have passed.

For that matter, Mobius is not the stainless hero he once thought of himself as. While he and Sylvie are tooling around the Void in a pizza delivery car (because of course they are), he admits that he committed a lot of sins by believing that the ends justified the means, and was wrong. He doesn’t know who he is before the TVA stole and factory rebooted him, but he knows that he wants something better for himself and the universe, and takes the stolen TemPad to open up a portal to his own workplace in hopes of tearing down the TVA once and for all. Before he goes, though, he and Loki share a hug that feels a lot more poignant than it should, given that these characters have only spent parts of four episodes of TV together. It’s a testament to Hiddleston, Wilson, Waldron, and company (Tom Kauffman wrote this week’s script) that their friendship felt so alive and important in such a short amount of time.

The same can be said for Loki and Sylvie’s relationship, however we��re choosing to define it. Though they briefly cuddle together under a blanket that Loki conjures, they move no closer to romance than they were already. If anything, Mobius’ accusations of narcissism in last week’s episode seem to have made both of them pull back a bit from where they seemed to be heading back on Lamentis. But the connection between them is real, whatever exactly it is. And their ability to take down Alioth — to tap into the magic that Classic Loki always had, and to fulfill Loki’s belief that “I think we’re stronger than we realize” — by working together is inspiring and joyful. Without all this nuanced and engaging character work, Loki would still be an entertaining ride, but it’s the marriage of wild ideas with the human element that’s made it so great.

Of course, now comes the hard part. Endings have rarely been an MCU strength, give or take something like the climax of Endgame, and the finales of the two previous Disney+ shows were easily their weakest episodes. The strange, glorious, beautiful machine that Waldron and Herron have built doesn’t seem like it’s heading for another generic hero/villain slugfest, but then, neither did WandaVision before we got exactly that. This one feels different so far, though. The command of the story, the characters, and the tone are incredibly strong right now. There is a mystery to be solved about who is in the big castle beyond the Void (another Loki makes the most narrative and thematic sense to me, but we’ll see), and a lot to be resolved about what happens to the TVA and our heroes. And maybe there’s some heavy lifting that has to be done in service to the upcoming Dr. Strange or Ant-Man films.

It’s complicated, but on a show that has handled complexity well. Though even if the finale winds up keeping things simpler, that might work. As Loki notes while discussing his initial plan to take down Alioth, “Just because it’s not complicated doesn’t mean it’s bad.” Though as Kid Loki retorts, “It also doesn’t mean it’s good.”

Please be good, Loki finale. Everything up to this point deserves that.

Some other thoughts:

* Most of this week’s most interesting material happens in the Void. But the scenes back at the TVA clarify a few things. First, Ravonna is not the mastermind of all this, and she was very much suckered in by the Time-Keeper robots. But unlike Mobius or Hunter B-15, she’s so conditioned to the mission that even knowing it’s a lie hasn’t really swayed her from her mission. She has Miss Minutes (who herself is much craftier this week) looking into files about the creation of the TVA, but for the most part comes across as someone very happy with a status quo where she gets to be special and pass judgment on the rest of the multiverse.

* Alioth first appeared in 1993’s Avengers: The Terminatrix Objective, a miniseries (written by Mobius inspiration Mark Gruenwald, and with some extremely kewl Nineties art full of shoulder pads, studded collars, and the like) involving Ravonna, Kang, and the off-brand versions of Captain America, Iron Man, and Thor (aka U.S. Agent, War Machine, and Thunderstrike, the latter of whom has yet to appear in the MCU). It’s a sequel to a Nineties crossover event called Citizen Kang. And no, I still don’t buy that Kang will be the one pulling the strings here, if only because it’s really bad storytelling for the big bad of the season to have never appeared or even been mentioned prior to the finale.

* Rather than try to identify every Easter egg visible in the Void’s terrain, I’ll instead highlight three of the most interesting. Right before the Lokis arrive at the hatch, we see a helicopter with Thanos’ name on it. This is a hat tip to an infamous — and often memed — out-of-continuity story where Thanos flies this chopper while trying to steal the Cosmic Cube (aka the Tesseract) from Hellcat. (A little kid gets his hands on it instead and, of course, uses the Cube to conjure up free ice cream.) James Gunn has been agitating for years for the Thanos Copter to be in the MCU. He finally got his wish.

* The other funny one: When the camera pans down the tunnel into Kid Loki’s headquarters, we see Mjolnir buried in the ground, and right below it is a jar containing a very annoyed frog in a Thor costume. This is either Thor himself — whom Loki cursed into amphibianhood in a memorable Walt Simonson storyline — or another character named Simon Walterston (note the backwards tribute to Walt) who later assumed the tiny mantle.

* Also, in one scene you can spot Yellowjacket’s helmet littering the landscape. This might support the theory that the TVA, the Void, etc., all exist in the Quantum Realm, since that’s where the MCU version of Yellowjacket probably went when his suit shorted out and he was crushed to subatomic size. Or it might be more trolling of the fanbase from the company that had WandaVision fans convinced that Mephisto, the X-Men, and/or Reed Richards would be appearing by the season finale.

* Honestly, I would have watched an entire episode that was just Loki, Mobius, and the others arguing about whether Alligator Loki was actually a Loki, or just a gator who ended up with the crown, presumably after eating a real Loki. The suggestion that the gator might be lying — and that this actually supports, rather than undermines, the case for him being a Loki — was just delightful. And hey, if Throg exists in the MCU now, why not Alligator Loki?

* Finally, the MCU films in general are not exactly known for their visual flair, though a few directors like Taika Waititi and Ryan Coogler have been able to craft distinctive images within the franchise’s usual template. Loki, though, is so often wonderful to look at, and particularly when our heroes are stuck in strange environments like Lamentis or the Void. Director Kate Herron and the VFX team work very well together to create dynamic and weird imagery like Sylvie running from Alioth, or the chaotic Loki battle in the bowling alley. Between this show and WandaVision, it appears the Disney+ corner of the MCU has a bit more room to expand its palette. (Falcon and the Winter Soldier, much less so.)

#Loki #spoilers #episode 5 #review #Rolling Stone #Alan Sepinwall

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antiloreolympus · 3 years

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10 Anti LO Asks

1. I would have thought the Hera/Hades plot would have been used to add some much needed tension between HxP and having Persephone question her mentor and have to seriously analyze Hades is he would be worth it as a romantic partner. But no, instead it's Hades and Hera feeling no remorse and Persephone sobbing she will never be as good as Hera and how she needs to "prove herself" that she can be worthy of HIM. Persephone, girl, you deserve so much better than relying on his crusty ass for approval.

2. I honestly wouldn't be shocked if a lot of the plots are left unaddressed/unresolved by the end, tbh. Ultimately the main thing that has to be resolved is HxP getting together, but there's no promise that everything else has to be addressed or wrapped up. For all we know the fans, if that were to happen, could see it as some genius writing to let the fans imagine what happened instead and/or give way to sequels. They'll excuse anything she does, so why not that too?

3. it's been nearly four years of publishing, they've made out 5-ish times by now, they're already talking marriage, persephone already lives with him, etc etc yet they still act as if theyre horny 14 year olds who just met?? like theres a fair share of high school romance comics on wt and even those literal children act more like adults than these literal gods. it becomes so repetitive and tonally off too when LO also tries to be a murder mystery / political drama / serious commentary as well.

4. I think being flustered over the topic of sex or being called ones boyfriend/girlfriend can be cute .. if it happens once or twice. At the start of the series stuff like this is perfectly fine, but we're nearly four years into it now and moments like that happen basically every other episode, so it's repetitive&annoying. More so, why is a grown adult acting like a 14 year old? I can excuse P since she is young, but what's his excuse? He's a king! Stop hanging out with college sophomores, creep!

5. I still can't get over the fact that RS decided that Hades made abandoned child to work for him. Antis always had this uneasy feeling that child souls might be also slave workers. This basically confirms it. If Hades has no problem making god child work for him, why would he care about human child souls? And most fans blindly accept it as good thing. Hades threatened Thanatos who he "raised," then Thanatos got scared of him. Only ones who got scared of Hades are ones who Hades harmed.

6. I hate how Hades suggested therapy to Persephone and then took her to a therapist but he clearly never did something like this for Minthe

From OP: Tbf, Minthe could’ve refused but that’s just an assumption. Plus, we barely see Hades talking to his own therapist anyway.

7. Zeus and Demeter are the best and hottest characters. Hades is a creepy old man and Persephone has the exact same personality of a wet cloth.

8. TBH I feel like WT itself also hurts LO? Because they're v open in how little editor or oversight there is so that's why having RS be in the only one in control of the whole thing becomes so subpar. Like if there was an actual editor planning everything out, looking over scripts and story, etc and a quality checking team to make sure the plots made sense, the pacing worked, no typos etc then the quality would jump up so much, because right now it's basically just one person in over their heads.

9. LO is terrified of having incest in the comic (despite it still technically be in it anyway) yet is totally ok showing onscreen sexual assault thats used to push a relationship along, divine racism, classism in showing the rich as good for abusing and even killing the poor, excessive greed being framed as good, and framing being a slave owner as good business? talk about weird priorities.

10. I swear, Rachel could become the damn Prime Minister of NZ and her fans will still claim she's some small indie creator who doesn't deserve any critique because she's an "amateur" (which lets be real here, even the smallest Featured creators are still in the industry even if its lower rung). Like at what point is she & LO finally able to be critiqued without all these excuses? Because it seems both herself and her defenders keep moving the goal posts so even light critique isn't allowed.

#anti lo #anti lore olympus #lore olympus critical #lo critical

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ourmondobongo · 3 years

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The origin of Hange's name (a little analysis)

So...!

Here I'm - back with my wild imagination analysis about my beloved AOT characters. This time is about our badass scientist Hange Zoë!

I don't know how many of you've noticed, but a lot of AOT official merchandising has their name spelled Hans. So while I was looking into the possible meanings of their name, I found a few things really nice about it.

I first looked up their name's meaning in German because in the AOT Character Encyclopedia (2018) Yams was quite vague about Hange's creation. Sadly. But he mentioned most of his characters had German names (what is not new as we all know how much he loves German names).

So while I searched for a "Hange" German name origin, I actually found "Hans", and I got this:

So "Hans" is a German name originally short for "Johannes" or "John". And interestingly, this name has its origin in Hebrew, meaning "YHWH has been gracious" or "Yahweh is gracious", or also "Graced by Yahweh".

Curiously, John is the name of the apostle who wrote the Book of Revelation while he lived imprisoned on an island until he died there. And the Book of Revelation is full of prophecies about the humanity's future - the end of our world, righteous and manipulative religious and political powers, humanity's struggles, death, God's judgment, heavenly and earthly battles, the Devil arrested for 1000 years, immortal beings- and mostly about people choosing their path in whether they do the right thing even though they know it will cost their lives (and they will suffer A LOT) or they side with the Devil in his quest to ruin humanity...

(Pic just for illustration, but we all know which side Hange chose!)

Now, I take a moment to reflect a bit about the meaning of "Hange/Hanji'' name.

I searched up a lot on the internet, and it didn't help much to settle in a clear origin for this name like others. Also, while lot of people see Greek as the name's root, still the origin is kind of unknown or has no technical reference whatsoever. Which is pretty odd for a name rooted in such ancient language.

So I believe that, like Yams hinted in the Character Encyclopedia, Hange's name really came from German language. Especially because one of the German variations of the name is Hänschen, which sounds A LOT like Hanji (listen to it on Google!).

YET, as we just saw in the beginning of this post, Hange's name (or at least their nickname Hans) seems to have a more ancient origin - Hebrew. Which reminds me that this is pretty common for AOT characters!

Like, Zeke's name comes from the Hebrew, Ezekiel, (God's strength) who was also an important prophet of Yahweh in the Old Testament. He saw the valley of dry human bones turn back to life with the bones suddenly being covered with tendons, flesh and then skin. This reminds me a lot about the Paths, the WH titan transformation.

Other important Hebrew names in AOT include Levi ( to "join/unite/escort"), and Dinah ("vindicated/judged/"God will judge"). In the Bible, Levi and Dinah were siblings, and he took vengeance for Dinah after she was raped and given in marriage to the rapist. Years later, Levi's bloodline was then cursed to be scattered around the world for his violent and gruesome behavior (Genesis 49: 5-7), but later God gave the Tribe of Levi the mission to be completely dedicated to His work as His priests in the Sanctuary. Did anyone think of the Ackerman's cla and the Fritz?!

There is a whole lot to add here, and one day I might write about them all together… But for now, let's go back to Hange's character!

Taking into consideration their name did come from Hebrew, another curious thing is that the apostle John had a brother, James, and they were both called "sons of thunder". It's said that Yams planned Mike Zacharias to supposedly be Hange's brother. And his name has TWO Hebrew roots: Mike (Who is like God?), and Zacharias ( "God remembers", and also spelled as Zechariah). Mike resembles Michael, the almighty Archangel; Zacharias is a prophet of the Old Testament and a priest in the New Testament.

Interestingly, Hange and Mike were the most eccentric characters of AOT - Hans created to give "mad scientist" vibes and Mike with his Sniff-Sniff odd behavior (lmao).

Lastly (for now), there is also this:

"The name "Hansel" (German: Hänsel) is a variant, meaning "little Hans". Another variant with the same meaning is Hänschen, found in the German proverb "Was Hänschen nicht lernt, lernt Hans nimmermehr", which translates roughly as: "What [little] Hansel doesn't learn, [adult] Hans will never learn".

Source: Wikipedia.

In terms of knowledge, curiosity, unyielding interest in learning things, who else could fit this (nick)name Hans better than our Hange?!

#hange zoe #hanji zoe #levi ackerman #mike zacharias #zeke yeager #shingeki no kyojin #snk ending thoughts #snk meta #dina fritz

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thed4rkhand · 3 years

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The Egg Theory

Hey guys! Since I think we’ll be doing cute manifestation stuff this week, I really wanted to share this, it’s something that really helped me understand Neville Goddard and other philosophers much better.

You know how they say we’re the centre of our own universe, time isn’t really a concept, live in the end, and all? And how it goes completely over our heads because no one is explaining it well? Here’s where I started, reading this story. So I thought it would be a wonderful start to the week, and then we can move onto cooler and more intense methods and understanding, so that you guys take little to no effort when manifesting like a pro!

We often underestimate or are just unable to comprehend just how powerful we as people are, and no wonder it happens, no one really explains it to us. So here’s the egg theory, read through it and let me know, some light reading for the course. Read it once, read it twice, you’ll be overwhelmed and think wtf, but honestly, it’s so integral to reject the idea before slowly sinking to a realisation and bouncing back up more powerful than ever! I always understand better when it’s like a story more so than a monologue, so hopefully it works for you guys too!

The Egg Theory - and how it explains everything

You were on your way home when you died.

It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail. Your body was so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me.

And that’s when you met me.

“What… what happened?” You asked. “Where am I?”

“You died,” I said, matter-of-factly. No point in mincing words.

“There was a… a truck and it was skidding…”

“Yup,” I said.

“I… I died?”

“Yup. But don’t feel bad about it. Everyone dies,” I said.

You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me. “What is this place?” You asked. “Is this the afterlife?”

“More or less,” I said.

“Are you god?” You asked.

“Yup,” I replied. “I’m God.”

“My kids… my wife,” you said.

“What about them?”

“Will they be all right?”

“That’s what I like to see,” I said. “You just died and your main concern is for your family. That’s good stuff right there.”

You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn’t look like God. I just looked like some man. Or possibly a woman. Some vague authority figure, maybe. More of a grammar school teacher than the almighty.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “They’ll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way. They didn’t have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will cry on the outside, but will be secretly relieved. To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it’s any consolation, she’ll feel very guilty for feeling relieved.”

“Oh,” you said. “So what happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell or something?”

“Neither,” I said. “You’ll be reincarnated.”

“Ah,” you said. “So the Hindus were right,”

“All religions are right in their own way,” I said. “Walk with me.”

You followed along as we strode through the void. “Where are we going?”

“Nowhere in particular,” I said. “It’s just nice to walk while we talk.”

“So what’s the point, then?” You asked. “When I get reborn, I’ll just be a blank slate, right? A baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won’t matter.”

“Not so!” I said. “You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of all your past lives. You just don’t remember them right now.”

I stopped walking and took you by the shoulders. “Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful, and gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you are. It’s like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it’s hot or cold. You put a tiny part of yourself into the vessel, and when you bring it back out, you’ve gained all the experiences it had.

“You’ve been in a human for the last 48 years, so you haven’t stretched out yet and felt the rest of your immense consciousness. If we hung out here for long enough, you’d start remembering everything. But there’s no point to doing that between each life.”

“How many times have I been reincarnated, then?”

“Oh lots. Lots and lots. An in to lots of different lives.” I said. “This time around, you’ll be a Chinese peasant girl in 540 AD.”

“Wait, what?” You stammered. “You’re sending me back in time?”

“Well, I guess technically. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from.”

“Where you come from?” You said.

“Oh sure,” I explained “I come from somewhere. Somewhere else. And there are others like me. I know you’ll want to know what it’s like there, but honestly you wouldn’t understand.”

“Oh,” you said, a little let down. “But wait. If I get reincarnated to other places in time, I could have interacted with myself at some point.”

“Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own lifespan you don’t even know it’s happening.”

“So what’s the point of it all?”

“Seriously?” I asked. “Seriously? You’re asking me for the meaning of life? Isn’t that a little stereotypical?”

“Well it’s a reasonable question,” you persisted.

I looked you in the eye. “The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe, is for you to mature.”

“You mean mankind? You want us to mature?”

“No, just you. I made this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature and become a larger and greater intellect.”

“Just me? What about everyone else?”

“There is no one else,” I said. “In this universe, there’s just you and me.”

You stared blankly at me. “But all the people on earth…”

“All you. Different incarnations of you.”

“Wait. I’m everyone!?”

“Now you’re getting it,” I said, with a congratulatory slap on the back.

“I’m every human being who ever lived?”

“Or who will ever live, yes.”

“I’m Abraham Lincoln?”

“And you’re John Wilkes Booth, too,” I added.

“I’m Hitler?” You said, appalled.

“And you’re the millions he killed.”

“I’m Jesus?”

“And you’re everyone who followed him.”

You fell silent.

“Every time you victimized someone,” I said, “you were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you’ve done, you’ve done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you.”

You thought for a long time.

“Why?” You asked me. “Why do all this?”

“Because someday, you will become like me. Because that’s what you are. You’re one of my kind. You’re my child.”

“Whoa,” you said, incredulous. “You mean I’m a god?”

“No. Not yet. You’re a fetus. You’re still growing. Once you’ve lived every human life throughout all time, you will have grown enough to be born.”

“So the whole universe,” you said, “it’s just…”

“An egg.” I answered. “Now it’s time for you to move on to your next life.”

And I sent you on your way.

------

"The Egg" - a short story by author Andy Weir.

#manifestation #law of attraction #law of assumption #shifting realities #neville goddard #egg theory #loa

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lady-divine-writes · 3 years

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Kurtbastian - “Always and Forever” Chapter 2

After the death of their daughter Grace, Kurt and Sebastian drift apart. Kurt wraps himself up in his grief so tightly he starts to push Sebastian away, and Sebastian, feeling himself shoved aside when he needs Kurt most, cheats. They make the decision to start over, to leave New York City and their pain behind, and start over again in a house Upstate. Sebastian buys Kurt a "fixer upper" and gives him free reign. While redecorating the room that will be his studio, Kurt comes across something interesting underneath the wallpaper. It starts to become an obsession for Kurt - an obsession that begins to replace Kurt's love for his husband, which Sebastian is holding on to by a thread. Can Kurt and Sebastian break through the pain and the hurt and find a way to fall in love again?

Read on AO3

Chapter 2 (5061 words)

The first evening in their new house becomes a long, exhaustive dance of unpacking and cleaning in preparation for the movers to arrive in the morning. What, in the past, would have been an upbeat two-step of flirting in the hallways while lugging in suitcases, punctuated by the occasional stop, dip, and smooch, is now a formal, boxy waltz, with Sebastian giving Kurt a wide-berth whenever he hears his husband coming, and Kurt pausing in doorways, eyes darting elsewhere when Sebastian passes by.

The rush to clear the dirt away and make things suitable for the furniture they chose to bring with them affords Kurt ample opportunities to send Sebastian on a host of errands, ensuring him stretches of time that he can spend alone to reflect and think.

Consider the past and plan for the future.

Even after the furniture arrives, they should have tons of space left. They had decided not to bring everything they own with them. They aren’t selling their penthouse. Keeping it furnished for the odd trip back seems like the practical thing to do. So, they only packed those things that they absolutely could not live without.

They didn’t bring any of the furniture from Grace's room. That Kurt donated to the Salvation Army with the exception of one item – a Winnie the Pooh lamp that he had found in mint condition, ironically, at the Salvation Army, on the day he and Sebastian found out their surrogate was pregnant. It's ceramic, hand-painted, with Christopher Robin and Winnie the Pooh sitting back to back as the base, each holding a handful of balloons. One red balloon, larger than the rest, contains the bulb, the colored plastic lending a rosy tint to its glow. Along the bottom edge are written the words: “If there ever comes a day when we can’t be together, keep me in your heart, I’ll stay there forever.”

Kurt’s mother had read him Winnie the Pooh books his entire childhood. He could recite most of A. A. Milne’s writings by the time he turned eight.

The year his mother passed away.

He'd read those same books to his daughter. She’d had them mostly memorized, too.

Seven hours of scrubbing, sanitizing, and (for Sebastian) racing around town wipe the two of them out, to the point where falling asleep is simply a matter of inflating an air mattress and putting heads down on pillows. They had picked up a Queen size one at a JCPenney along the way. It’s nowhere near as luxurious as the custom-made King size bed currently stuck in the back of an Allied Moving Truck, waiting to take a journey on the 495. This mattress is a tighter fit than they’re used to. It doesn’t help that the thing sinks in the middle whenever one of them rolls over. With the both of them measuring six-foot-plus tall, they have to lie in the fetal position to fit comfortably, which would require them to spoon. But Kurt finds a way to keep himself out of his husband’s arms.

The material the mattress is made out of seems perpetually ice-cold, not warming up a touch with their combined body heat, which Kurt didn’t anticipate. They have the gas and electricity switched on, but there’s something wrong with the central heating. They don’t have the requisite amount of blankets to keep from freezing, which adds to the misery. Despite being pissed at Sebastian, Kurt doesn’t have the heart to send him out at one a.m. to the 24-hour Walmart, so he closes his eyes and resigns himself to suffering until dawn.

For the next five hours, Kurt’s mind stays blank. No noise, no dreams, and no flashbacks, thank God. It’s not restful, but it’s the best he could have hoped for. The last half a year has not been conducive to dreaming. The nightmares keep coming, one after the other, the next one worse than the last, shaking him to his core until he jars awake with a pain in his chest like someone had tried, in steel boots, to stomp him into the dirt. But waking up doesn’t solve the problem. He doesn’t know what he hates worse – waking up weeping in his husband’s arms or waking up weeping alone.

Kurt’s feelings for Sebastian are complicated when he thinks they shouldn’t be. Kurt should either love him and forgive him or hate him and move on. But he loves him and hates him. His hands itch to hold him, but a second later, he wants to shove him away. He wants to go, but he can’t imagine leaving.

As much as it sucks, Kurt can’t imagine living without him.

He would prefer to go back to being shamelessly and hopelessly in love with him. Hating him has become a crutch. But it’s enough to get him through. Regardless of that fact, which should tie up the loose ends, mend the hurts and cool the hate, it doesn’t, because Kurt can’t find a way to forgive him.

A well-meaning Facebook friend had told Kurt over Messenger that the problem was Kurt’s pride had been hurt by Sebastian cheating. Push the pride aside and get over it. Ultimately, the marriage is more important. Then he said something about Kurt putting on his “big boy” pants, mentioned God, and quoted the Bible.

A minute later, Kurt blocked him.

That’s another blessing of moving - leaving behind the get over it already crowd. He hates them more than the forever sorry folks. The people who tell him to move on, to get over it, to put it behind him, don’t really care about him. They want him to stop complaining, as if they’re obligated to follow him on social media, and that puts the burden on him, in turn, to make them feel comfortable.

Maybe some of them do care, but not enough to put themselves in his shoes and understand that it’s just not that easy. Being on the outside of the swamp and looking in at a man who’s drowning, yelling at him to grab a branch and pull himself free, is different than being the man stuck hip-deep in mud that feels like cement and losing a fight that’s beyond his control.

Sometimes, as a matter of self-preservation, you simply give up.

Kurt doesn’t know who Sebastian slept with. He has his suspicions, but he doesn’t know for sure, and Sebastian won’t confirm. He says it’s because he wants to put it behind him, forget it ever happened, and that infuriates Kurt. If sleeping with another man was something Sebastian would need to put behind him, why even do it? Or (and Kurt hates himself for thinking like this), if Sebastian didn’t want Kurt to dwell on it, why not take steps to ensure that Kurt wouldn’t find out? Sebastian, of all people, should have known that this would eat Kurt up inside. It’s the kind of thing he’d never let go of. Yes, Kurt would be devastated if he discovered the cheating and the cover-up years after the fact, but he’d be in a better place to mourn his marriage apart from mourning his daughter.

What Sebastian did was selfish on so many levels.

Kurt knows that sex isn’t love, but he can't help wondering – was there a moment in the middle of all of it, caught up in the kissing and the fucking, where it felt like love?

Kurt met Sebastian in high school. Kurt wasn’t just a virgin back then. Oh, no. He had created his own category of virgin for which he could have had a cape and costume custom made – Captain Super Prude. Sex was a taboo topic for him, so much so that his high school’s chastity club hated him.

Apparently, he set the bar too high, made them look loose in comparison.

As much as he had fantasized about finding a special someone who would sweep him off his feet, gently usher him into manhood by making soulful but passionate love to him, he preferred not to think about it too often or too in-depth. The "talk” between him and his father was a mortifying experience.

There were pamphlets involved.

He still has some of them.

When it came to finding a boyfriend, Sebastian wasn’t what Kurt had planned on at all. Where Kurt was attracted to debonair, old-school, gentlemanly types a few years older than himself, Sebastian was crass, rude, explicit, and a year younger. On top of that, he was (to coin a phrase stolen from one of Kurt’s best friends, Quinn) the biggest French whore of them all. Sebastian didn’t care for romance and he didn’t attach emotions to sex, but he definitely had a way of making men fall in love with him. Kurt Hummel and Sebastian Smythe were the two people in the world least likely to fall in love with one another. But according to Sebastian, he fell in love with Kurt long before Kurt fell in love with him.

Sebastian claimed that Kurt was the first man he had ever fallen in love with, and at first sight, no less.

He whispered those words in Kurt’s ear the first time they made love.

He said those exact words during his toast at their wedding.

He wrote them in every birthday, Christmas, and anniversary card he ever gave to Kurt.

He said them over Grace’s crib the night they brought her home.

“Look at this little thing, Kurt,” Sebastian had sighed, reaching out to stroke Grace’s cheek. “Our daughter. Is it ridiculous that I’ve only known her for two days and I’m already in love with her?

“Technically, nine months and two days. But, no. It’s not ridiculous.”

“I never thought I could fall so fast in love with another human being before I met you.”

“Really?”

“A-ha.” Sebastian smiled when Grace yawned, her whole mouth moving in a complete circle before she settled down again. “I fell in love with you the second I laid eyes on you. And then, well, it was all over for me.”

Those words, the memory of that happiness, breaks Kurt’s heart. Could it be possible that, after close to twenty years of marriage, after reciting those words so many times, they didn’t mean anything anymore? Had Sebastian found someone else he could fall in love with?

Kurt has asked, but Sebastian won’t answer that question. He says it’s insulting.

Whatever the answer, he probably thinks he’s doing his husband a kindness. What he’s really doing is prolonging the torture, not giving Kurt the information he needs to make a decision that he can stand behind. Every time Kurt looks at his husband, he sees touches on his skin that don’t belong to him, kisses on his lips that he didn’t put there.

Kurt doesn’t know how to make himself see past them.

Instead, he looks away.

The second Kurt feels sunlight on his face, he’s out of bed. He grabs his messenger bag and pads down the hall to his studio before Sebastian can stir.

The room looks different with blurry morning sunlight bleeding through the windows. Kurt didn’t put black-out curtains up, and the sheer curtains that came with the house let fingers of light poke through, bouncing off the wallpaper and brightening the floor.

Yikes.

Kurt examines the floor now that he sees it clearly. It’s a mess - the wood warped as if someone had paced it incessantly. It had been varnished at one time. Spots of resin dot the boards like oily puddles. The wood itself (some variety of walnut, Kurt suspects) has blackened to a morbid pitch with age. It sucks up the light and gives little back.

“Oh, yeah,” Kurt murmurs, pressing around the brittle edge of one spot with his toe, watching it crackle into shards. “This has to be completely redone.”

He gets stuck on the idea that this room could have been his daughter’s if she were still alive. He and Sebastian had talked about raising Grace in a suburban environment, and as much as he regrets not giving her a house with a yard and room to grow, Kurt leaned heavily on the side of staying in the city. Some of his motives were selfish. He loved Manhattan. It had been his lifelong dream to end up there. He wanted his daughter to grow up with all of the things he didn’t – culture, diversity, theaters and libraries and museums a train ride away. He didn’t want her raised around the closed, narrow minds of small-town folk. He wanted her to be an independent thinker – liberated, rational, intelligent. But he also wanted her to be compassionate and kind. He wanted her to know the world, its wonders and its failings, the way it truly was, not the way it looked on a movie screen, and long to change it for the better. They participated in fundraisers, gathered donations for the homeless, and volunteered in soup kitchens.

Grace was a pure light, a driving force that, at her age, Kurt didn’t get the chance to be.

So in honor of her, he wants his workroom to be bright and colorful - a mixture of his vintage aesthetic and her fun-loving personality. He’ll paint the walls her favorite colors, put homages to her in the details, choose the furnishings she would have preferred.

Since this will be the room he spends most of his time in, he wants it to be everything about his daughter that he adored.

He opens his bag and pulls out his phone, checking the time. 6:08. The movers are supposed to arrive between eight a.m. and ten. But movers, electricians, plumbers, and cable guys never arrive on time. He fishes out his sketchbook, sits on the floor, and gets to work jotting down a layout. First things first, he decides where his drafting table will go, where he’ll store his bolts, where he’ll put his sewing machine, a spot for a work chair, marking places here and there for personal touches like his mother’s vanity, his first-ever dress form, a few of his awards...

And photographs. Lots and lots of photographs.

He didn’t keep photographs in his studio at Vogue. He had an obsession with keeping his private life private, which he doesn’t apologize for. Since he met clients there, he liked to keep that space impersonal. Nothing to get in the way, spark a conversation that might derail the job at hand.

Unlike Sebastian, who hung candids galore. He stuffed the most Godawful photographs from their high school and college years into collage frames and nailed them to every wall of his office, squeezing things like his degrees and diplomas into far corners so that those pictures could be prominently displayed. He said that people knew the Smythes by name and reputation. If anyone wanted to see his credentials, they could Google them. But when people walked into his office, he wanted them to know that first and foremost, he was a family man.

Sebastian knew from childhood that he would become a lawyer. He never dreamed he would be a father.

Or a husband.

Those were the two accomplishments he seemed the proudest of.

Kurt regrets not having more pictures of Grace hanging on his studio walls, her smiling face to look at every hour of every day, watching his meetings, overseeing his layouts. She was his good-luck charm, his missing puzzle piece. She deserved a place of honor.

Now, he’ll give her one.

His stomach growls as he works. A smell from somewhere tickles his nose, and he groans. Just a few more seconds of sketching on the hard ground, and he’ll grab a bite to eat… maybe. With his ass numb, he doesn’t see a reason to get up, and bedsides, he’s on a roll. Car doors closing and constant banging echo in, and he winces, his head throbbing from lack of sleep. Dammit! If it would just stop till he finishes! It’s hard enough to concentrate as is! He hopes this is a one-time-only thing. He’d hate to wake up to that cacophony every morning. If he ever decides to go outside and meet the neighbors, he’ll have to find a polite way of asking them not to do whatever that is before he has his morning coffee.

Of course, soundproofing is also an option.

“Kurt? Kurt, are you… ?”

Kurt shifts his legs underneath him. He lifts a hand to massage his shoulders. That mattress must have killed his back. His arms ache something fierce. Sitting on this floor doesn’t help, the uneven boards digging into his legs, but it’s not an impetus for him to stop.

Just one more minute.

One more minute of sketching out this room, and he’ll join the world. One more minute to get his thoughts straight. One more minute to brush aside the things that like to torture him. Forget that his mother died when he was eight, his stepbrother when he was eighteen. Forget that his father passed away three years ago and his daughter six months ago.

Not too long after, his husband cheated.

Five.

That’s how many things he had loved in this world more than himself.

Those are the things that he’d lost.

They were the things he needed to forget in order to make it through till the evening.

He’ll replace the insulation and the drywall, smother everything in a noise-proofing compound, then paint the walls in swirls of pink and gold. He’ll do the ceiling in shades of blue, indigo, and violet, like the sky at night, and cover it in crystals to represent stars the way Grace had wanted to do with her bedroom. Kurt had promised her he would the second everything was over, when they could risk her being around the debris and the fumes.

He has never broken a promise to Grace. He isn’t about to start.

He scribbles those notes in sloppy script in the margin of his paper, wipes tears with the back of his shaking hand. He tries to focus on specifics to bring himself back from the brink of a breakdown. He needs a good cry, but he doesn’t want the comforting that will go with it if Sebastian hears him. He can’t right now. Sebastian comforting Kurt turns into Kurt comforting him back, and Kurt only has the strength to handle one outburst.

“Kurt? Did you want to… ?”

Kurt waves a hand to shoo away the buzzing beside his ear, relieved when it doesn’t take much more than that.

In order to paint the walls, he’ll have to take the wallpaper down.

That brings to mind the corner of torn paper over by the window and the word written underneath.

Darling.

That corner offends him. Kurt keeps entertaining the thought that that word has nothing to do with Sebastian, that there is another layer of wallpaper underneath festooned with line art of flowers, along with quotes from various love poems sprinkled throughout, circa 1800s. But then that would make that one tear and that one word an incredible coincidence since darling is the pet name Sebastian has called Kurt since day one. When he started doing it, every time he said it, Kurt had an urge to sock him on the jaw.

He was a pain in the ass, even back then.

Did Sebastian actually think Kurt would fall for writing darling on the wall? After the things he said? After what he did?

Kurt’s hand trembles so badly, he smudges the ink on his page. He stops writing, takes a deep breath, and counts to ten. He closes his eyes and concentrates on the sun warming his face. It’s gone now when it was there a second ago, which is disconcerting, but he has to ignore that and calm down.

He has to relax.

He promised he’d give this marriage a chance, that he’d try to make this work. Sebastian, so far, has held up his part of the bargain. He’s given Kurt space. He’s listened to him vent uncontested. He’s let Kurt keep tabs on him – where he goes, when he’ll be back, with photo texts in between to prove that he is where he said he would be. Kurt has to give him the benefit of the doubt. If Sebastian extends an olive branch, Kurt should take it.

But did he want to?

“I didn’t hear you when you got up this morning.” Sebastian’s voice starts Kurt’s hand up again. He wants to look busy. He doesn’t want to be caught in a position where he has to give his husband his full attention.

He hasn’t forgotten everything yet.

“Well, you were dead to the world,” Kurt replies, distracted.

“I’m just saying, see? You won’t disturb me. You don’t need to put a bed in here.”

Kurt bobs his head back and forth, adding a place in his layout for a foldout out of spite. “We’ll see. It’s only been the one day.”

“That’s true.” The way Sebastian says it, it sounds like a challenge. A tired challenge. Like Sebastian knows he’s already lost. “So, you like the room?”

“Yeah. I think I do.”

“And what about the rest of the house?”

He doesn’t know why Sebastian sounds like he’s asking. It’s a done deal. They both agreed on a new house. Sebastian found one he thought Kurt would like and bought it. What? Are they going to back out now and magically move somewhere else?

Will moving around from house to house solve what’s wrong between them?

“It’s fine, I guess. I don’t know. I think it’s hard for me to visualize without taking the grand tour. I’ll be able to tell better when I get started decorating.”

“Are you gonna hire that guru guy to help you with the yin and yang stuff?” Sebastian jokes cautiously. “That Kung Fu guy… what’s his name… ?” Sebastian snaps his fingers as if he’s seriously trying to remember.

“He’s a Feng shui practitioner, and his name is Carl.”

“His name's Carl?” Sebastian laughs. “No no no, his name is not Carl. Carl is the name of a dentist. He’s not a guy you call to Wang Chung your house.”

“Feng shui,” Kurt corrects again. “I hired him to help me create balance in our home.” He chuckles despite the fact he doesn’t want to find Sebastian funny. He doesn’t want Sebastian to affect him. But he’s right. The man’s name irked Kurt, too, when Isabelle referred him. “Ridiculous name or not, he seemed like a knowledgeable guy.”

“Do you think that Shaolin stuff could work here?”

Kurt pauses to give the matter some thought, and that kills the moment. The levity becomes saturated by the pain hanging in the room, and Kurt coils further into his sketch.

“That remains to be seen. But I think I’m going to try doing it for myself this time. Of course, the overall effect is going to be completely thrown to heck when you hire whoever never to decorate your office.” Kurt throws a derisive scowl over his shoulder. It misses its mark when Kurt won’t look Sebastian in the eyes.

Sebastian swallows Kurt’s scowl without thinking of a comeback. They’ve had that argument before when Kurt redecorated their penthouse. Kurt felt the need to redecorate whenever something big happened in their lives, but Sebastian’s office was off-limits, so it stayed the same. Kurt tried to find one or two things to put into his design scheme that would bring a theme from Sebastian’s office out so that the penthouse would blend, but whatever the thing he chose was – a print, a vase, an ottoman, or a coffee table – it stuck out like a sore thumb, until Kurt tried less and less.

“Can’t fight City Hall,” he’d say, returning to the business of finishing the rest of the space. Things changed around them, and yet, in Sebastian’s carefully curated world, life stood still. The last time Kurt redecorated was before Grace was born. Nothing in the penthouse matched Sebastian’s office after that.

“I want you to do it.”

Kurt stops scribbling. “Me?”

“Yeah.”

Kurt almost looks back to see if Sebastian is serious. He stares at the paper in front of him, the surface more ink than white. “Are you… are you sure? You always said that we need our separate spaces.”

“That’s only because you’re a little heavy-handed with the pastels. I trust you. Just don’t go making it all shabby chic.”

Kurt is speechless. This is the opportunity he has been waiting for their entire marriage – to decorate Sebastian’s office. Once upon a time, he saw it as the ultimate gesture of trust.

Back when he was naïve and fairly stupid.

“Don’t worry. I won’t.” Kurt debates standing up and giving Sebastian a hug or a handshake. This seems like a time that would warrant it. But when he rolls an inch to his knees, his entire body screams with pain. God, he feels old. How can he be this stiff after just half an hour?

Kurt returns to his planning. Even though he doesn’t feel prepared to leave his sanctuary, he fixes on that solid mask he’s been wearing for weeks around Sebastian. Just one more minute. One more minute, and he’ll go downstairs. He thinks he says it out loud. He expects Sebastian to go back to their room and get ready for the day, but he stays in place like a statue, watching Kurt draw, huddled over his sketchbook with his back turned to him and the door.

Kurt waits to hear the sound of footsteps retreat the way they came, but they don’t. His pencil stops above a square drawn in the corner meant to represent his stereo. He can’t continue his drawing with his husband watching, so he bites the bullet.

“Was there something else you needed?” he asks.

“They’ve… uh… got the bed in,” Sebastian says. “And the TV.”

Kurt scrunches his nose and lifts his head. What does he mean? The bed and the TV are on the moving truck. Kurt looks at his phone, resting on the floor by his knee.

“What are you talking about?” Kurt scoffs. “The movers haven’t even arrived yet. It’s only 7:15.”

“That’s right.” Sebastian speaks slowly, the way he does when he’s explaining something to Kurt that he thinks Kurt might explode over. He leans forward like he wants to come in but doesn’t without an invitation. “It is 7:15. In the evening.”

Kurt's head snaps up, eyes rolling because Sebastian is crazy.

There’s no way.

He's ready to object, but with his gaze away from his page, he notices something different about the light in the room. Instead of a soft, diffused blue, it has become a thicker yellow. Shadows stretch across the floor that weren’t there before. The room is warmer than he remembers, and the skin of his left shin, folded over his right, feels hot and irritated, like he might have gotten a sunburn.

“Evening?” Kurt shakes his head. “How can it… ? But… why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you come get me?”

“I tried. I told you when the movers arrived. I asked you what you wanted for lunch. I brought you the portable heater and put a lamp in here when it started to get dark.”

Kurt looks around. In the emptiness of the room, they’re easy to see - a plug-in heater behind him, and, in the corner of the room to the left of the door, standing straight and tall like a structural support beam, a brass lamp without a shade, filling the room with artificial light.

The first two pieces of furniture in his new studio, and Sebastian put them there.

Kurt doesn’t want them. He’d rather be cold and alone in the dark.

“We don’t have WiFi or cable yet, but I set up the Blu-ray player,” Sebastian continues. “I thought I could go get some take-out, and we could have a picnic dinner on the bed. Maybe watch a movie?”

Kurt does a 180 on his sore ass and looks at his husband (which is to say he looks at a spot over Sebastian’s head) with a mildly confused expression. He’s not really thinking about the bed or the movie or dinner at all. Even though he was hungry earlier, apparently hours earlier, he’s not hungry now. He couldn’t be less hungry. His desire to eat simply evaporated. It's been waning for weeks. Sometimes he forgets to eat until Sebastian sticks a sandwich in his face. Sebastian has become devoted to keeping Kurt's stomach full. He knows better than to comment on his weight loss, but he keeps a stock of temptable foods on hand.

He’s keeping Kurt on life support.

Sebastian stuck a spear into the heart of what they had together. Now he’s keeping Kurt alive to help him fix it.

Kurt hates that he didn’t see it that way until just now.

“Kurt? Please?”

Here’s the olive branch, Kurt thinks. He has to decide whether he’s going to take it or toss it aside.

He had promised Sebastian he’d try, and Kurt has never broken a promise to Sebastian.

No matter how much he hurts, he’s not going to start tonight.

His father always said that a man is only as good as his word.

Kurt closes his sketchbook. “Alright. I’m coming.” He tries to unfold his legs, but his knees lock up on him, and he rushes to massage the beginnings of a cramp. Sebastian looks like he’s about to spring in and help, but Kurt puts up a hand. “I’ll be a minute.”

Nodding, Sebastian takes a step back. Even with that rejection, he looks happier, more hopeful. He takes his phone out of his pocket and leaves the room. The grateful smile on his lips should fill Kurt with warmth. It used to.

But it doesn’t.

After a meal of Szechuan from a questionable establishment (not questionably clean, just questionably Chinese) and The Devil Wears Prada (a movie Sebastian swore up and down he’d never watch again), Sebastian falls asleep with his head on Kurt’s chest. And Kurt lets him, even if he himself barely gets a minute of peace.

#kurtbastian #sebkurt #sekurt #sebastian smythe #Kurt Hummel

17 notes · View notes

melatovnik · 3 years

Note

ok ur top faves wangxian fics go

hey yati! 🥰️

alright, so first things first, here’s a big wangxian fic rec list i made a while ago, if you wanna check that one out too! consider the list below part 2. these are all my faves so far since my last rec list (as you'll quickly see, i have a LOT of faves).

and just a fyi/psa/disclaimer for anyone reading this: some of these fics have disturbing themes and/or kinky/freaky sex! make sure to check the authors’ tags and notes before reading. also, much like my first rec list, there’s going to be a mix of mdzs and cql canon, characterizations, dynamics, etc., so bear that in mind.

....ok GO

live from new york by varnes | rated E | 87K words | THE snl au fic!!!! yes, by snl i mean saturday night live. this is perhaps the best and funniest story i've ever read, period. varnes is a fucking genius. read this fic.

Wei Ying lets out a long, ugly groan. “I am fine, Lan Zhan. Everybody is overreacting, it’s so embarrassing for all of you.”

“You had undiagnosed pneumonia, which you walked around with for weeks until you passed out during dress,” Lan Wangji corrects him. “It got a big laugh, until everyone thought you were dead.”

He keeps his voice even and does not tell Wei Ying that it had been Lan Wangji who caught him, who called the ambulance, and who rode with him to the hospital, where he was yelled at by nurses who wanted to know why he hadn’t noticed that Wei Ying couldn’t stop shivering or string proper sentences together.

“Rumors of my demise have been vastly overstated,” Wei Ying says. “Anyway, I’m already feeling much better. Basically fine. Really almost completely back to normal, so stop babying me and tell me why the fuck you let your stupid brother hire the worst man in the world to host our show.”

OR: the one where they all work at SNL, Yanli's ex-boyfriend is hosting, and that's just the beginning of everybody's problems.

swiss cheese theory by varnes | rated M | 19K words | sequel to snl au fic!!!!!! another must-read.

The Swiss Cheese model of accident causation likens human system defences to a series of slices of randomly-holed Swiss Cheese arranged vertically and parallel to each other with gaps in-between each slice. Defences against failure are modelled as a series of barriers, represented as slices of the cheese. The holes in the cheese slices represent individual weaknesses in individual parts of the system. The system as a whole produces failures when holes in all of the slices momentarily align, permitting "a trajectory of accident opportunity," so that a hazard passes through holes in all of the defences, leading to an accident.

OR: Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian go to the courthouse.

OR: “Sweethearts,” the city clerk had said, very gently, “you’re already married.”

best friends forever by varnes | rated T | 17K words | alright, so like, strictly speaking, wangxian isn't the focus of this fic, BUT. this fic is so good!! it is seriously so good, and it made me fall in love with jin ling/lan jingyi. also, it's varnes, so read it!

It happened like this: Jin Ling was a sect leader now, which was, and Jingyi really meant this, fucking hilarious. There were few things funnier, in his honest opinion.

Because he was young, and inexperienced, and also — it had to be said — a real shithead, there was apparently some belief amongst his advisors that the best way forward, to promote the picture of a stable, mature sect leader who absolutely did not cry at the drop of a hat, was for Jin Ling to get married.

OR: Jin Ling and Jingyi get engaged.

Things spiral from there.

For a Good Time, Call by ScarlettStorm | rated E | 171K words

The picture is of Wei Ying, that much is clear. It’s of a lot more of Wei Ying than Lan Zhan is used to seeing. He supposes that, technically, Wei Ying is dressed. It’s a bare technicality, since one of Wei Ying’s hands has rucked up his black tank top practically to his collarbone, showing a long expanse of abdomen and one nipple. Sweat beads on his sternum, catching the light like jewels. His other hand is--Lan Zhan feels his eyes widen, as though unable to look away from a train wreck--on his hip, one thumb tugging down the waistband of a pair of red briefs. Wei Ying is biting his lower lip and looking directly into the camera, sultry, his eyes dark and inviting. His erection is obvious, outlined against the red of the briefs and framed carefully with the hand on his hip. Lan Zhan’s brain goes wildly, screamingly blank.

Or: Lan Zhan accidentally finds his best friend's OnlyFans account and has an ongoing emotional crisis.

love, in fire and blood by cicer | rated E | 360K words | i actually haven't finished this one since i was reading it when it was a WIP, i need to reread it and catch up fjdskl;fjsd, but i love it very much!!!!!! oh my god he wanted to look nice for his husband..... 🙃 [screams with mouth closed]

"You want Wen Ruohan dead," the Patriarch continued idly. "You want his corpse puppets eliminated. You want his halls burned to the ground and his soldiers disemboweled and begging for mercy. Have I about covered it?"

He gave another knife-edged smile.

"But what will you give me in return?"

"We would be willing to offer quite a bit in return for Wen Ruohan's defeat," Lan Xichen admitted. "But I'm afraid we don't know what an immortal such as yourself desires. Please advise us."

The Patriarch waved at hand at the front of the tent. "I want Second Young Master Lan."

(In which the Sunshot Campaign ends through an arranged marriage to the Yiling Patriarch, and Lan Wangji suffers the mortifying ordeal of falling in love with his own husband.)

how to fall in love with a catfish: a guide by wei wuxian (disaster rat) by bwyn & Yuisaki | rated T | 55K words

A new plan hatches in Wei Wuxian’s head. If this nocturnal, bottom-feeding, slimy, invasive mudcat posing as a beautiful actor thinks he can sway Wei Wuxian with animal pictures and a sob story and an unbelievably stilted way of texting with still no dick pictures in the first five minutes of conversation, he has another thing coming. Wei Wuxian’s got it, alright, he has this in the fucking bag.

Wei Wuxian plots to expose a catfish using strategic memes and turtle pictures while wiggling his way out of family dinner. Lan Wangji just wants companions.

there’s no promised goodbye here by Yuisaki | rated T | 54K words

Jiang Cheng stares at him. “Didn’t you say you broke up five months ago?”

“Yeah.”

“So why do you have a picture of you two kissing taped to your fridge?”

“Because we’re too broke for magnets,” Wei Wuxian explains, then considers that statement. “Well, I’m too broke for magnets. Lan Zhan probably refuses to buy them because he’s trying to have lofty ideas about the moral failings of materialism.”

Wei Wuxian navigates the trials of living with his ex-boyfriend in apartment 1301.

paint smears on sunny days by SnowshadowAO3 | rated E | 54K words

To say that he runs to his car would be incorrect, as he is a Lan, and running is both undignified and unnecessary unless in immediate danger. Nor does he slam his key into the ignition, or aggressively swerve around the cars on the freeway, or have a mild panic attack at the fact he is picking A-Yuan up late from school for the first time ever.

He comes close, though.

By the time he arrives, it’s 4:35PM, and he has imagined about fifty different worse-case scenarios. The door is partly open when he gets to it, a messy label of 104B—Art Room scrawled with chalk on a placard next to the faded wood. As he opens it fully, he expects to see a wailing, terrified child, or perhaps a scene of utter misery and betrayal.

What he finds is his son, hands covered in paint, being sung to by a beautiful, dark-haired stranger.

“Ducks live in the pond, yellow ducks, happy ducks!”

Lan Wangji stops in his tracks.

(Or: Falling in love with your son’s art teacher, in five parts)

a paper friend by sunzu | rated G | 5K words

Lan Wangji finds a paperman far from its body and helps get it home.

-Or-

Lan Wangji unknowingly meets Wei Wuxian for the first time.

All Caught Up by brooklinegirl | rated E | 37K words

"Betrothed," Wei Ying says indignantly.

Lan Wangji can't stop his gaze from darting up to him. Wei Ying understands. Wei Ying is looking at him, wide-eyed and upset on his behalf.

"And you don't even like her," Wei Ying says.

"I don't even know her," Lan Wangji says quietly.

"But even if you did—" Wei Ying starts.

"I wouldn't want this," Lan Wangji finishes.

Lead Me On Through by mrsronweasley | rated E | 55K words | oh look another canon-era practice kissing fic fjdskfl;ds

"Who do you think your betrothed is?" Wei Wuxian asks, sprawling out in front of Lan Zhan and enjoying the prim thinning of his lips at the question. He shouldn't be sprawling—they're in the library, for one, and Lan Zhan is studying, for another—but he can't help himself. Wei Wuxian is a sprawler.

"I do not believe this to be of importance," Lan Zhan responds, without turning his gaze away from his book.

"What!" Wei Wuxian sits up. "How can you say that? Of course it's important! This is the person you'll be with for the rest of your life, Lan Zhan."

I Started From the Bottom/And Now I'm Rich by x_los | rated E | 58K words | ok so i know that in my spiel above i said to mind the tags, etc., but actually pay no mind to the first two relationship tags for this fic. i PROMISE that this isn't that sort of dead dove fic fjdksl;fjs;lifkj. i. it. it's wangxian. don't sweat it. don't even trip. just—this fic fucking rules. it's completely insane and it slaps. wei ying is a girlboss and a bitch and i like her So Much

“First, you get the money. Then you get the power, respect - hos come last.”

Wen Qing traps Wei Wuxian in the Demon Slaughtering Cave, but Wei Wuxian isn’t interested in being the beneficiary of the Wen Remnants’ noble sacrifice. His efforts to free himself accidentally send him back to the beginning of the Sunshot Campaign. Coreless but armed with demonic cultivation, knowledge of the future and his wits, Wei Wuxian takes advantage of this opportunity to come out on top of both the war and its aftermath—before either has a chance to happen—by marrying and swiftly burying the cultivation world’s worst men.

Lan Wangji is confused, hurt, and uncomfortably aroused by Wei Wuxian’s improbably elaborate series of Sect-themed bridal negligees.

rather cruelly used and rather reserved by x_los | rated M | 14K words

In the month between Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian leaving Yi City and their attending the cultivation conference in Lanling, Wei Wuxian discovers a locked room in the Jingshi. It is a mystery that clever and curious Wei Wuxian is doing everything in his power to avoid solving.

But the rose was awake all night for your sake/Knowing your promise to me by x_los | rated E | 8K words | resentment tenties~

The resentful energy occupying Wei Wuxian's body like an enemy army is very interested in giving him Lan Wangji, tied up with a bow.

Wei Wuxian is hoping that Lan Wangji (who is far too noble and very keen to save Wei Wuxian's misguided soul) doesn't find out about any aspect of that.

Mo Money, Mo Problems by x_los | rated M | 3K words

After the Mo family perishes in distressing and mysterious circumstances, Wei Wuxian, still reeling from his reincarnation, tries to dip back into their manor for a little travelling money. (Forward planning! What a concept!) Lan Wangji catches him immediately, and is highly unimpressed (read: furious) with Wei Wuxian’s decision to run away from him in the first place.

Standing Engagement by x_los | rated M | 18K words

Lan Wangji believes he and Wei Wuxian are essentially engaged. While they search for his missing betrothed, he accidentally reveals as much to Jiang Wanyin. Now everyone in the cultivation world knows about the imminent marriage, except for Wei Wuxian himself.

Coming Back to Yourself by acernor | rated E | 22K words | genital swapping for fun and nonprofit!

Lan Wangji gets cursed with a ~woman's body~ and has to orgasm to go back. Since he's 1) a virgin 2) super repressed and 3) SUPER gay, he has no idea what to do.

If only he had a super nosy friend who's read lots of erotic novels who could help him figure out what to do... hm...

Save a Sword by etymologyplayground | rated E | 5K words | a fic inspired by the above fic!

Lan WangJi presses a kiss into his throat, which draws a shivering whine from him. "Like this," he agrees, his voice so low. Then he slides one warm elegant hand down Wei WuXian's chest to his belly, and then to his — to his —

fan ending for acernor's fabulous masterpiece "coming back to yourself" because i'm a huge goofball and that fic fucks

Our Eyes on the Road by etymologyplayground | rated E | 23K words | brought to you by lore (the author) and Orville Peck's hit song Drive Me, Crazy

Lan Zhan is silent for a long moment, and the van's speakers quietly pipe the second song on the album into the empty space between them. Then Lan Zhan shifts his hand a little on Wei Ying's leg, presses his fingers once into the meat of his thigh. "Alright," he says.

"Alright," Wei Ying echoes in a wheeze.

"Is that better?" Lan Zhan checks, because he is a good boy. Then he spreads his fingers out a little wider, because he is evil and must be stopped.

Lan Zhan is driving to Chicago. Wei Ying tags along.

Worship you till morning comes by feyburner | rated E | 7K words

A meet-cute, a first date, a sleepover.

Let's take a ride round the curves of desire by feyburner | rated E | 6K words | yeah........... uhh, yeah.

Wei Ying was sprawled on the floor in front of the oscillating fan when Lan Zhan got home from work.

The Roots Grow Riotous by hansbekhart | rated E | 105K words | a beautifully crafted, emotionally harrowing fic. i should warn you (since it's not quite tagged as such) that while wangxian is endgame, the overall story doesn't have the sort of happily-ever-after ending you might expect. i’ve seen it described as open-ended but hopeful and cathartic, which i find to be a pretty accurate assessment

Sometimes Lan Zhan doesn’t work through lunch. Sometimes he makes conversation with coworkers in the halls. Sometimes he goes home instead of spending the last hour trawling through Grindr. But mostly, that’s exactly what he does. The sameness is comforting. His life spools out in easily measured increments: capsule collections, yards of hand dyed textiles, ninety day lead times, sell through figures, cost of goods sold.

Every date in manufacturing can be calculated backwards and forward from a single horizon point: the date that the goods must arrive into the country where they'll be sold. Other than that, nothing else really matters.

总有一天; a place to hide (can’t find one near) by yiqie | rated E | 76K words | i can't recall a fic ever affecting me as much as this one did. one of the best stories i've ever read. so, so, so crushingly beautiful. it's viscerally distressing/upsetting at times, especially at the start, so please heed the tags and author's note (they provide a way to skip the beginning scene if needed)!

That’s just the thing, isn’t it? Wei Ying feels nothing. He doesn’t feel anything, and this emptiness should scare him. He knows he should be scared. He wants to be scared. He isn’t. Fear itself is never scary; fear is just a response. It means that your body wants you alive. It’s the absence of terror that scares him.

请兔子吃晚饭; treating a bunny to dinner by yiqie | rated T | 3K words | read this one to recover from the above fic

It’s not really about the food. Being able to share it in the same space is its own kind of magic.

爱不释手; never let me go by yiqie | rated E | 69K words | and then read this one to feel harrowed again, this time in canon-verse!

Wei Wuxian has certainly hoped so ardently in his two lifetimes, for so many different things, in so many different ways, that he could have summoned the demon to his front door with his bare hands. His eyes wander to Lan Zhan, settle on the back of his head, the blue-black curtain of his hair. Oh, how he has hoped.

在此恭迎夷陵老祖; to yiling laozu, the great and venerable by yiqie | rated M | 7K words | read this one to recover from the above fic (this time in canon-verse)

“You don’t know? In Yiling, there’s a tree at the edge of town, one that stands at the fringes of where the city ends and the Burial Mounds begin, called the Lover’s Tree. They say if you write a letter and nail it to its branches, Yiling Laozu will receive it, and he’ll reply.”

你的阳光下; wanna hide in your light by yiqie | rated T | 2K words | :')

Lan Zhan shuts off the water before it can start getting cold, because Wei Ying still needs to take one. Any other day, Wei Ying would have slunk in, pretending to be annoyed that Lan Zhan started without him, and neither of them would have want for hot water, but Wei Ying is still asleep.

From my heart's ground. by orange_crushed | rated E | 38K words | get (orange) CRUSHED!!!!!!!

After a while he can feel a palm against his face, gentle fingers soft and soothing. It’s not real, not exactly: he can tell the difference between a ghost’s touch and a living person’s, between a spirit-vision and an overactive imagination. His education has been thorough. But the beating has also been thorough, so for now he forgets what he knows and leans into it, into the hand cupping his cheek. It’s soft and dry as those forgotten petals, as the touch of a pillow. He can smell wildflowers, can taste blood and dirt. My baby, his mother says, and he closes his eyes. My treasure. He barely remembers the sound of her voice, but the feeling of it is just the same. Just the same as ever.

[In which Lan Wangji loses almost everything, plants a garden, and grows a second chance.]

Pentimento. by orange_crushed | rated E | 73K words | this fic briefly gave me a serious case of career envy :/ ......but seriously, this is an absolute must-read!!!

When Wangji was eighteen he’d walked into the first class of his fall semester painting module and there’d been a boy in a hilariously ugly floppy knit hat sitting cross-legged on the floor at the front of the room. He’d had a sheet of canvas paper taped to his board and his board clamped between his legs and a tackle box of brushes and tubes—a real fishing tackle box, with a fish-shaped logo on it that said BASS, not one of the nice art supply storage boxes they sold in the campus bookstore, like the one Wangji was carrying—open beside him. Everyone else had settled into the rows of stools and easels, but that boy had stayed on the floor for the whole two hour and thirty minute studio. Wangji had looked at him and thought, that idiot’s back is going to hurt.

[Former best friends Lan Wangji, paintings conservator, and Wei Wuxian, art handler, meet again and realize... neither of them were actually in unrequited love.]

Many happy returns. by orange_crushed | rated E | 25K words

His fingers are still clasped between Wangji's. In the mirror Wangji watches him tuck his coat between his thighs so that he can fuss with the tucked-in hem of his shirt, tousle up the side of his hair, all one-handed. "I hope what I'm wearing is okay."

"It's good," Wangji says. "You look good."

"I guess I must," Wei Ying says, and then he smiles and bites his teeth into his bottom lip for a second, devastatingly, and before Wangji can drop dead the doors to the elevator slide open, and the hostess station appears.

[In which lonely businessman Lan Wangji meets the right wrong person and changes the course of his life.]

The dreamers. by orange_crushed | rated E | 17K words

“Stop mothering me,” Wei Ying protests. “Why don’t you ever listen?” He scowls at Wangji, but then the lure of the clean water is too much; he sits grumbling and strips off his vambraces and loosens the collar of his robes and wipes himself down in the steam. Wangji sits on a stool and watches him, and after a while Wei Ying slaps the rag into the bowl and glares back. “Are you going to sit and stare the whole time?” he demands. “You want to see me strip naked and give my filthy evil self a good scrubbing, huh?”

Yes, Wangji thinks.

[This is a story about a horrible war and a beautiful dream; about grabbing happiness where you can find it, and not letting go.]

mercy, tear it down. by orange_crushed | rated E | 31K words

“You want me to call you good?” Wangji says. “To make you feel good?” Wei Ying makes a wretched, soft, surprised sound in the back of his throat. “Then will you be good?”

“Uh,” Wei Ying says. His lashes flick down again, nervously. “Good how?”

Wangji hasn’t quite thought that far ahead.

Kingfisher Feathers by Anonymous | rated E | 83K words | WIP (7/10 chapters, last updated 4/13/21) | omg omegaverse!!!! @/ this anon author... keep up the great work! also i have feelings for u

With an almost trance-like detachment, Wei Wuxian touched his own neck, his fingers skimming over the fresh mark. The bite wound had stopped bleeding, although he had no doubts it would open again if agitated.

Bonded.

He was bonded for life.

"Shit," he whispered. He looked over at the sleeping form of Lan Wangji—the Second Prince of Gusu and, until his brother was found, the sole heir to the throne. "Oh, shit. Lan Qiren is going to kill me."

----------

Lan Wangji goes into a fevered rut and accidentally bonds with Wei Wuxian. When they next meet, he remembers none of it, and Wei Wuxian is determined to keep the bond a secret—even when he's sent to the Cloud Recesses to be a consort in Lan Wangji's harem.

(tl;dr concubine!wwx is already married to emperor!lwj, who has no idea. drama ensues.)

Pull out game weak by 74243 | rated E | 23K words | featuring the hottest meanest dom top lesbian lwj of your wildest dreams. i hope ao3 user 74243 is having an amazing day

Wei Ying swipes right.

Extra Time by Anonymous | rated E | 28K words | fic inspired by the above fic! seriously good

How Wei Ying learned to stop worrying and love the strap (an AU of 74243's Pull out game weak)

Superfan by 74243 | rated E | 19K words | ao3 user 74243 writing banger after banger as per usual

“I’m not going to apologize for my job,” Wei Ying said, “so if you want to give me some kind of lecture--”

“No,” Lan Zhan said. “You misunderstood. I am...” she paused, as if considering the best way to put it. “I’m a fan.”

Spit in my mouth, look in my eyes by 74243 | rated E | 7K works | i'm just going to list all of ao3 user 74243's fics, ok? that's what's gonna happen here

Wei Wuxian was a little surprised herself, although she felt bad for being surprised. Of course it didn’t really mean anything about you, how you presented, Wei Wuxian knew that better than anyone, but all the same it was hard to reconcile Lan Zhan as an omega.

(wwx makes an error of judgment)

If the shoe fits by 74243 | rated E | 8K words

Wei Ying loses a bet.

the And they were roommates series by 74243 | rated E | 19K words total

That was the other thing, when Wei Ying had moved in. She’d scented Lan Zhan immediately, the sandalwood and smoke rising off her, almost before she’d taken in Lan Zhan’s straight posture, her narrowed eyes. She’d known that Lan Zhan could tell, too. At the end, when they’d talked about the rent and Lan Zhan’s nearly finished PhD and Wei Ying’s working hours, Wei Ying had said, casual and effortless, “And you don’t mind that I’m an omega.”

“No,” Lan Zhan said.

Chef's kiss by 74243 | rated E | 7K words

Wei Ying said, “You know, in some ways I’m kind of depressed. I took your biggest dick on my first try. Now I don’t have anything to build up to.”

“There are bigger ones available,” Lan Zhan said lazily. “I can pay for express shipping.”

(Lan Zhan works the late shift.)

Gold-palmed Warrior Quest! by 74243 | rated E | 13K words

When Lan Wangji suggested that they camp along the way to the Unclean Realm, rather than staying at inns, Wei Wuxian had been sceptical.

Dway! by 74243 | rated E | 6K words

“Hm,” Wei Ying said. “You like it rough, though, right? You seem like that kind of alpha.” When she saw Lan Zhan’s expression she raised an eyebrow. “What? Was I wrong? Are you tender and sweet? Do you cry?”

“You were not wrong,” Lan Zhan said. “I do not cry. Do you?”

tgif by 74243 | rated E | 17K words

Today Lan Zhan says that if Wei Ying cannot control her mouth then she will have to tape it shut.

On the ground by 74243 | rated E | 5K words

“I think you will like it,” Lan Zhan said.

Does your mother know by 74243 | rated E | 5K words | editing this rec list on a monday morning to add this brand new fic fresh off the presses. thank u ao3 user 74243 for feeding us so well 🙏

“Lan Zhan is such a well-behaved girl,” Madam Yu said.

all that and more by Euphorion | rated E | 20K words

Wei Wuxian locks his phone and puts it down, blinks at his ceiling, and picks it up again. The pictures are still there.

His first thought is that Lan Zhan meant them for someone else. That he just woke up at—he checks the timestamp—6:30 am on a Sunday and decided to go absolute full nuclear seduction option on some poor boy he met on Grindr, who would now be missing out on the best thing to ever happen to him because Wei Wuxian had a bad habit of distracting—of—oh.

Pieces of last night start to resurface and paste themselves together in his head. He winces.

The Golden Cutsleeve by syrus_jones | rated E | 77K words | of my faves, this is one of my favorite... faves. top faves. incredibly fun and silly and hot. just... oh my GOD, wei YING!

“I know! Why don’t you try it? Let me go and I’ll lend it to you!” Wei Wuxian bribed hysterically, desperate to escape from this encounter by any means necessary. And then, his eyes blew wide, realizing what he just said. ‘Wait— just what am I offering Lan Zhan?!’ he thought. How was he so stupid, how did he just offer that without thinking—

“You want me...to use it… after you?” Lan Zhan asked, his voice unusually faint.

~*~

Wei Wuxian's test of mysterious, literally magical sex toy goes awry when Lan Wangji finds him in the woods 'experimenting' with it and it ends up in Lan Wangji's possession.

Unfortunately, neither of them is aware that the toy is anchored to Wei Wuxian's body. Too bad Wei Wuxian invited him to try it.

Boy Trouble, We've Got Double by saltyfeathers | rated E | 60K words | !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! this is a really good fic

Lan Zhan stands there in his immaculate, cloud-patterned Lan robes, watching him calmly, one fist tucked up against his back. “I am betrothed.”

Wei Wuxian blinks. “Are you…” He tries to laugh. Again, it sounds inhuman. “Is this about last night? Are you mad at me? I only remember some of it, Lan Zhan. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I’m sure whatever I did I was just—” He gestures uselessly. He remembers being warm in Lan Zhan’s lap. He remembers fitting snugly in Lan Zhan’s lap. Wrapping his arms around Lan Zhan’s neck. Nosing at his jaw. “…playing around.”

“This has nothing to do with you, Wei Wuxian.”

none in the forest so bright as these by saltyfeathers | rated E | 6K words

Wei Wuxian puts a hand to his head, brain lost in fog. “Lan Zhan,” he pants. “Why are we here? Are we on a hunt?”

As Lan Zhan tries to remember, his brow furrows. He shakes his head slightly. “I don’t know.”

“This is bad,” Wei Wuxian says. When Lan Zhan cups his cheek again, sparks burst behind Wei Wuxian’s eyes. “Or maybe it’s not,” he says unthinkingly. Sighs, almost. Lan Zhan looks at his own arm like it's betrayed him. Wei Wuxian closes his eyes and presses his face into Lan Zhan’s palm. “Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan,” he murmurs. “What’s happening to us?”

out in the garden, there’s things you hid away by saltyfeathers | rated E | 121K words | oww oww oww 😣😣😣💘

There is a man with empty eye sockets and tears of fire in Wei Wuxian’s dreams. Tendrils of smoke curl around him in sleep, pressing at his most vulnerable spots, seeking entrance, slipping between his ribs.

When he ignores Lan Zhan's offers of help, he declines rapidly. He will die. Or, he should. Anyone else would.

Instead, he flees. And transforms.

crawling through your door by saltyfeathers | rated E | 12K words

Lan Wangji kisses him. When he pulls away, he speaks into the silence between them, because when he is with Wei Ying, he so rarely considers. “Why don’t you touch me anymore?”

Lan Zhan Works for the Historical Society by saltyfeathers | rated E | 7K words | some real real good lesbian action up in here

Pretty Lan Zhan. Beautiful Lan Zhan. Ice queen Lan Zhan. So intimidating and femme and coldly polite in public, yet meaner than a man in the bedroom. Wei Ying has slept with men before and none of them were mean-nice to her like Lan Zhan.

threadfic by saltyfeathers | not rated (each chapter rated/tagged individually) | 34K+ words | WIP (11/? chapters, last updated 3/15/21), but it’s a collection of stand-alone oneshots

semi cleaned-up wangxian twitter threadfic.

【已經打動我的心】So Sing To Me All Night by aroceu | rated T | 10K words | arrow writes wei ying so exquisitely well. i was weepy the whole time read this fic. for the best experience, i recommend following along with the accompanying spotify playlist.

No one listens to the radio in this day and age, but somehow from a bunch of left clicking and right clicking, through Facebook and Twitter and Youtube, Wei Ying finds himself on the WQHS homepage—the UPenn student radio station, promising eclectic tastes from a variety of hosts. Wei Ying can't remember giving a shit about his old college's student radio before he dropped out, but it's eleven at night and he has nothing else better to do. He clicks on the button that says Listen Here! and waits to be impressed.

get wild by aroceu | rated E | 24K words | 🔥🏀🔥 BASKETBALL FIC 🔥🏀🔥

He was looking for a specific reaction—to get Lan Zhan to lash out. All hard edges and demanding, the same way during the first scrim, Lan Zhan's dark voice had made him loose and obedient, itching to both rebel and obey at the same time.

It's them, whatever it is, but it doesn't belong on the basketball court.

Wei Ying didn't expect to enter a weird... something-with-benefits-plus-power-play with the captain of the Gusu basketball team. He's not sure if it's worth it.

without a warning by aroceu | rated T | 10K words | 🥺️🥺️🥺️

“Blegh,” Wei Ying says. “I hate being sick, Lan Zhan… my throat is so sore… why do I talk so much?”

“Stop talking then,” Lan Zhan says.

“You don’t mean that,” Wei Ying says, in his half-asleep daze. “I know you’ll never admit it, Lan Zhan, but you like it when I talk.”

your honor i’m a freak bitch by aroceu | rated E | 6K words

Wei Ying gestures to his outfit. His hands are buried deep within the hoodie; he’s mostly gesturing with the sleeves. “Well, it works with the whole get up, you see?”

“The…” Lan Zhan looks down at where his fingers are toying with the top of Wei Ying’s thigh highs. Wei Ying pretends he is not shivering. “…skirt. And these stockings.”

“Thigh highs, Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying says, batting at him with the end of a sleeve.

Play It By Ear by aroceu | rated T | 7K words | MY HEART !!!

In the virtual airplane flying over the island, appropriately called Yiling, Lan Zhan watches as bits and pieces of the island load in. There are many Statues of David, a gothic teacup ride, and, from what Lan Zhan can see, an entire field of spoiled turnips.

hanguang-jun @/hanguangjun Do you need turnips to sell?

timmy and tommy in a trenchcoat @/yilinglaozu oh! no haha! 😅 those are from a while ago but my brother insists i keep them there

for the ~aesthetic~

the key that our souls were singing by aroceu | rated M | 5K words

“I haven’t seen you since—Gusu, was it?” Wei Ying says. “Oh my god, it’s been so long. I didn’t even know you were LGBT! Unless you’re here as an ally, which is also totally cool—”

“No, I.” Lan Zhan coughs. Her throat feels dry. “I am a lesbian.”

abort retry fail by aroceu | rated E | 21K words

Lan Wangji must miss his husband over this amnesiac of a man Wei Wuxian has turned into. Well, Wei Wuxian will show him! He'll be even better—or at least, try to be just as good of a husband as he would be, without his memory loss.

Blackout If You Were Mine by aroceu | rated E | 9K words

Wei Ying likes to wear chokers a lot. So Lan Zhan buys some for him. Then, testing their limits, collars.

Wei Ying wears those, too.

Or, the one where Wei Ying and Lan Zhan accidentally stumble into a BDSM relationship.

eleven thousand meters & airborne by aroceu | rated E | 5K words | 😎✈️😎

Lan Zhan and Wei Ying join the mile high club.

many fox given by defractum | rated E | 24K words | can't go wrong with foxxian and dragonji content 🦊🐉

Lan Zhan is glaring at him. That's probably fair.

The last time they'd seen each other, Wei Ying had been digging through Lan Zhan's garbage. They'd made eye contact over the shredded bags, the week's trash scattered around him like stinky, oversized Lego.

Lan Zhan's eyes had been wide with horror, and Wei Ying's had been equally wide with feigned innocence. He'd reached out slowly, maintaining the eye contact, and then flipped over the food waste bin full of onion peel and carrot skin as a distraction and slunk off into the night. Probably not his finest moment.

Modern AU dragon!LWJ meets fox!WWX.

the tamed by defractum | rated E | 12K words

If the Second Jade of Lan insists on bringing the Yiling Patriarch as his guest to the next Cultivation Conference, he must first demonstrate a control over the Yiling Patriarch and his unnatural abilities.

The letter lies on their desk for days.

Post-canon, Wei Ying is invited, sort of, to a Discussion Conference.

us in a king-size, keep it a secret (say i'm your queen, i don't wanna leave this) by matcha_ado | rated E | 3K words

People always said Wei Ying was a royal pain in the ass. They were absolutely right, of course, just not in the way they thought.

it is wednesday my dudes by jelenedra | rated M | 4K words

Wednesday nights at Cloud Recesses strip club are always a little weird, but usually they're not this horny. Whatever Wei Ying and Lan Zhan get up to, Mianmian is not going to be the one to clean it up.

i'm the one for your fire by occultings | rated E | 43K words | cherry magic au! love it

Wei Ying, virgin and noted heterosexual, gets hit with a curse of an unusual nature on his 30th birthday — through physical contact, he can read the minds of others around him.

Enter Lan Zhan, hot former rival and current coworker, whose true thoughts about Wei Ying are nothing like he expects. (A loose Cherry Magic AU)

a thousand teeth, yours among them by darkredloveknot | rated E | 11K words

A one night stand in the time of zombies.

hoe to housewife pipeline by lanzhancore | rated E | 5K words

“You type fast,” Wei Ying murmurs, making a futile attempt at conversation while he waits for him to be done with… whatever. “Not to be pushy, but do you plan on fucking my ass anytime soon?”

or: wei ying has been thirsting after lan zhan for three slutty slutty years

can you feel it by lanzhancore | rated E | an instant classic

“What’s wrong?” Wei Ying asks finally, eyebrows drawn together. “Is everything okay?”

Thumbs stroking circles into his skin as if to comfort him, Lan Zhan says, “Don’t panic.”

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says, sitting up on his elbows. “What did you do to my ass?”

“Nothing,” Lan Zhan says, convincing nobody. “But we need to go to the hospital.”

or: wei ying really should have sprung for the model with the flared base. he learns this lesson the hard way.

because you're mine (i walk the line) by lanzhancore | rated E | 8K words

Wei Ying is freshly cream-pied and still trying to remember where his legs are when Lan Zhan outlaws masturbation.

or: wei ying fucks around and finds out

payload by lanzhancore | rated M | 3K words | babysitter wwx + dilfji, what more could you need

Wei Ying has a whole five hours and thirty-six minutes to calm down but when he hears Lan Zhan’s key turning in the front door lock later that evening he has to cling to the couch cushions to keep from marching into the laundry room to retrieve the briefs so he can wave them in Lan Zhan’s face and demand to know who owns them.

or: lan zhan's self-restraint is not limitless

the to the brim series by verseau | rated E | 14K words total

Wei Ying wants to rob him, but it wouldn’t even be satisfying, since this guy is just—giving away money. With his nice fingers. Maybe Wei Ying will just bite his fingers, and that will give the same endorphin rush as robbing him. / a day told across five parts.

get that message home by verseau | rated G | 2K words | ohhhhhhhhh myyyyy godddddd 😭

Sizhui's father cannot haggle. It is a shame on Sizhui’s honor to have such an honest father.

Author's note [i'm including it here because it's golden]:

there is a scene in arrested development where lucille, who is on the opposite spectrum of humanity as lan zhan, asks, "it's a banana, michael. how much could one cost? ten dollars?" there are no bananas in this story.

dreaming and getting a glimmer by verseau | rated E | 27K words | a particular favorite of mine 🔥🍆💦🕳🔥

Wei Ying discovers himself.

trust your fingertips by plonk | not rated (but really rated E) | 15K word | 🥵️🥵️🥵️🥵️🥵️ plonk you’ve done it again!

Lan Wangji must suppress a shiver at every brush and press of Wei Wuxian’s fingers.

Under different circumstances - less public ones - he would welcome touch, given that his body is in such an aroused state.

Alas, his circumstances are these: sitting quietly while Wei Wuxian, the famous (infamous) Doctor of Yunmeng, digs his fingertips into Lan Wangji’s shoulders and chest and sides and hums thoughtfully.

Doctor, Doctor by YunmengLotus | rated E | 4K words | mmmmhmm!

Wei Ying needs to get a prostate exam. How ever will he deal when the world's hottest doctor walks through the exam room door and tells him to bend over?

TAKOYAKI by ariskamalt | rated E | 3K words | lan zhan gets jealous of his own damn appendages. meanwhile, wei ying is just having a good time.

Lan Zhan…cannot always feel or tell what his tentacles will do.

His free hand curls into a fist. Underneath his skin, the tentacles give a little squirm, as if aware of the challenge he has just issued them. No touching Wei Ying unless he says so, because he wants to touch Wei Ying first. They squirm again, as if to say, Tentacles: 1, Lan Zhan: 0.

That will just have to be remedied.

Or, as phnelt first described: Tentacle-ji with the semi autonomous tentacles getting jealous of his tenties for touching Wei Ying in places he hasn't yet

Outage by SugarMilkTea | rated E | 3K words | [cough] 😳😳😳

The power goes out in Lan Zhan and Wei Ying's rural home in the countryside. Lan Zhan takes advantage of the darkness to give in to one of his baser urges, and Wei Ying's first rural power outage experience is about to get a lot more interesting.

big hands (i know you’re the one) by martyrsdaughter | rated E | 8K words | NICE. 🔥🔥🔥

“Not a big talker, hm?” Wei Ying tilts his head to one side. “That’s okay, I’ve been told I’m a good enough conversationalist for three. My tongue is multi-talented and—”

He has just enough time to feel her palm on the back of his neck and think, oh, her hands are so big, before his words are being stolen into her mouth.

darling, am i a chore? by martyrsdaughter | rated E | 7K words

“Are you done playing around?”

Knowing that’s not what either of them actually wants, Wei Wuxian reaches up to tickle under Lan Wangji’s chin. Soft little scritches, coaxing motions—Lan Wangji is weak to all of them.

“You know what I want,” Wei Wuxian purrs, reaching up on his tiptoes to throw his arms over Lan Wangji’s shoulders. “Call me gege, won’t you? Call me and I’ll stop.”

(or: five times Lan Wangji paid special attention to Wei Wuxian’s interest in being his gege.)

put him on his knees, give him something to believe in by dustyloves | rated E | 2K words | if the title is quoting WAP, then you should know by now it’s gonna be some of that good filth

The next time Wei Ying kisses him, Lan Zhan is careful again. Wei Ying seems determined to make it very difficult.

the hard way by dustyloves | rated E | 9K words

"Anyway, you make it sound like something lewd is going on," Wei Ying complains. "It's all totally above board. She's just being a nice person. It's just one kind alpha grad student offering one room of her huge house to one beta undergrad in need, what could be more appropriate than that?"

// Wei Ying makes a mistake and finds out the hard way.

Exhibition by sevenless | rated E | 5K words

“Oh?” Wei Wuxian raises an eyebrow. “The forbidden section, Lan Zhan?”

“Mn.”

“You’re not afraid of being heard?” Wei Wuxian thinks aloud. A smirk creeps onto his face, eyes glinting. “Or could it be that Lan-er-gongzi actually wants to be heard? Seen? Caught?” He skips in front of him, blocking his way. "Disciplined?”

Lan Wangji’s ears, as always, betray him.

a history of the body by northofallmusic | rated E | 14K words

Wei Ying's body hurts sometimes; she lets Lan Zhan help her.

A fic about the complicated nature of having a body, and also the versatility of sex toys.

(our friendship) up against the ropes by daltoneering | rated E | 36K words

The reboot completes, and Wei Ying’s brain smashes this information together into two mind-shattering thoughts. Number one, he knew very well already, and is now further seared by defined muscles and a mouth-watering tattoo into his every waking moment: Lan Zhan is the hottest fucking person on the planet.

Number two: that guy wasn’t visiting Lan Zhan’s neighbour, he was visiting Lan Zhan, which means:

Lan Zhan fucks. Lan Zhan fucks. Lan Zhan fucks.

;

Lan Zhan has been Wei Ying's best friend for years. Literally, years. How did he not already know? How has he missed this most important of facts? And more importantly, how is he ever going to get over it?

watching my heart go round by typefortydeductions | rated E | 38K+ words | WIP (2/4 chapters, last updated 5/2/21) | lan zhan i love you baby 💞

Lan Zhan falls apart. As it turns out, that's not the end.

oh man this list is so long sd;jfkdsjfhhh

yati, i hope you find some stuff in this pile here that you’ll enjoy! it's not an exhaustive list, so check out the authors’ other works and bookmarks for more goods, if you feel so inclined 😙💕

#darlingbenny #mdzs #fic rec #nsfw!

38 notes · View notes

peeterparkr · 4 years

Text

perennial;tom holland|prologue

sequel to perfidy.

Prologue: daffodils

↳ flower meaning: new beginnings.

story summary: After the war, Tom let the flowers die of thirst, Harry decided to water dry flowers and Timmy never stopped taking care of his. But flowers speak for us, flowers have meanings. And like flowers, maybe you’ll keep on blooming, it’ll be up to you if you decide to wither. And it’ll be up to you what flower you end up choosing.

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: a bit sad, just a little.

word count: 3k

first chapter. perfidy (final chapter) ( series masterlist)

perennial masterlist.

wanna be tagged?

Hello, finally, the long awaited prologue is here. I hope you like this as much as you liked perfidy. Hope I can live up to your expectations! I’m super excited for this! Let’s bloom.

To make a flower last, you have to water them, provide them with enough sunlight, and love. There are flowers that last, flowers that don’t. There are flowers that bloom again, there are flowers that even in times of diversity, they manage to get up and in their colors. There are flowers that only bloom once.

Perennial flowers tend to keep blooming, for short times, then fall dormant the rest of the year.

Flowers, like humans, die of thirst.

But humans, like flowers, can bloom again.

You hadn’t, you wouldn’t. Not now.

The usual thing after a breakup is to feel lost, cold. Everyone tells you to keep yourself busy, to reach out for people, ignore social media, change your surroundings. Keep yourself distracted, go out with friends.

Start a new life. Bloom again.

In other breakups it had been easy, you had cried a few days. You had pitied yourself and listened to sad music. Watched sad movies. You remember going out with your best friend to parties, movies, park, arcades. You remember shielding on your studying, your photography, your writing. You kept yourself busy.

Keep yourself busy. That’s what everyone tells you. Re-start your life. You should go to a new beginning. Keep yourself busy? Bloom again?

How were you supposed to do that? You had died of thirst. You had technically no job now, none of your friends wanted to speak to you. You didn’t want to write. You didn’t want to go out.

How?

What were you supposed to do? How pathetic.

How were you supposed to when you were the one who had wrecked your relationship?

You wondered what would’ve happened if you’d told him sooner about it, if things had been different. Would you be in his arms?

You needed to call your friends.

You didn’t want to do that, really. What friends, really?

Timmy? Sam? You couldn’t call them.

Charlie and Danielle? You didn’t want to.

Emily? You were never close with her.

Harry? No, not Harry. You were very angry at him.

Tom?

Tom.

He was the only one you wanted to call. But he never was a friend. And well… He wouldn’t answer. And why would he?

And why would you call him? What would you tell him if he answered?

You should; though.

After that day, you were seeing his face everywhere. You knew it would come. You thought you had initially imagined Tom after the kiss. You thought it had been your imagination, as if your mind was playing a trick.

But it hurt to think you could’ve built something so beautiful. Timmy had asked you why you still loved Tom.

Why wouldn’t you?

There was still so much love waiting for Tom. In the little time you’ve spent together, you had learned that kissing comes in many different forms and emotions. You learned a new superpower he had, how to take away minutes from time so he could make it stop. You learned that you could really run out of breath from laughing, and you learned that it is possible to share one only breath. You learned that he could take away your breath with only one single glance, and you had learned how to lie.

White lies, to help you both sneak into places where you could only bump smiles to one another. You had learned how to forgive him.

You had forgiven him. But he would never forgive you.

And maybe that was what made this one breakup more difficult. Knowing that you had killed a flower.

Loneliness is a curse, a very horrible curse. You didn’t want to call your brother because you didn’t want to hear another lecture over what you did was wrong but how it wasn’t your fault and then trying to stop him from coming for Tom.

You hated Harry right now.

Because, you were confused. Very, very confused. Why wouldn’t you?

Harry had kissed you.

Tom had seen it.

And Timmy was currently calling you. You ignored the phone call. And thought about it, how stupid this felt. Confusion wasn’t new. And your mind was shooting you with flashbacks, just like it had done with Tom.

But now, Harry? Harry? But this wasn’t right. Harry was a friend, right?

Yes, he was a friend.

Harry.

There hadn’t been any sparks. No. Because you loved Tom.

You really loved him.

But…?

No.

But then there was that thought in your mind again. How did you feel about Harry?

Right now, angry. Yes. Because for now you didn’t care about you, you cared about Emma. Emma was a friend you’d found along the way. And really, you missed her.

You’d lost too many people in the sake of a few days.

Best you could do now was to pretend you’re okay. For your parents, for your brother. For yourself.

Damn, but this was so stupid. How the hell had Harry done this so selfishly?

You really couldn’t call him out on selfishness. But you were angry. Because you were so vain. Naive and vain if that makes any sense, at all.

And you knew that the letter you’d sent to Tom could have… calmed things. Now they would seem like your words were empty.

It should’ve lasted longer, you knew it wouldn’t, but it should’ve. Tom. Tom was who you loved.

You’ve given him one letter, you wouldn’t write another one. There wasn’t much to be said now. You had spent most days building up an excuse or a plan to forget about him.

You had cleaned out your room, removing every Polaroid from your wall, because now that you didn’t have Tom’s it felt empty. And maybe that was what opened your eyes, you had to cleanse yourself, because all your life you had had that question.

“What if?”

Tom had been that constant what if in your mind and that’s how it turned out. Big disaster. And then you hated it, again. It was meant to always end up that way.

How many chances had you left behind because you had been clung to Tom? How many romances had passed by because you had ingrained in Tom? Because of that stupid thought.

Loneliness is a curse, yes, but it’s also a blessing. Because you realized it. And it had been good that you’d gotten rid of everything and given it to him, you couldn’t keep holding on to something that would lead you nowhere, you couldn’t keep holding on to something that would end up in another disaster. Though you knew it was him and always him and you’ll always keep waiting for him to show up… you couldn’t keep up with that.

Even now, you were waiting for him to show up with yellow flowers, but he wouldn’t. He wouldn't show up. He wouldn’t call and it was stupid to be waiting for one call.

And though in your walls it had seemed easy to take off, the real story wasn’t. How many things had you let go off because of Tom?

He’d robbed you of every chance of being happy. He was the reason why you’d probably always cancelled plans for him, and he had been the reason you’d said no to a marriage proposal that would have probably been the ideal ending for you.

But it was Tom. Always. Always. Always Tom. And no matter how many times you’ve tried, it kept coming back to you. Every time, you always stopped yourself from taking new chances, of beginning again because there was always that thought in your head, that Tom and you were meant to be. You were so stubborn, like a tired child who is throwing a tantrum for a popsicle.

But no, you saw it again, in the most poetic and romantic way, the way it could work for a story. Everlasting. Never ending. Infinite.

That’s so dumb.

It was different now, and you’d always been crying for him. There you were now, again crying for him, hugging a pillow staring at the empty walls. You shouldn’t have left that day, you should’ve explained it to him. Tell him you hadn’t been the one to start the kiss but at the moment, you saw it as a loss.

Had he read the letter that you’ve written a whole night?

Maybe. Maybe not.

He probably was crying too. You know Tom was a silent crier, something you’ve learned among the years. You knew he probably would cry when he was in the shower or brushing his teeth, or just as he was about to go to bed.

You were very much alike. But you knew he probably wasn’t crying right now. You knew you probably were the only one laying down on the bed crying.

Had this been all inspired by that stupid child that had first fallen in love with him?

Everything was… lost.

You’d touched rock bottom. That meant you could only go up from now.

Maybe it had never been supposed to last forever. And you knew you had known it from the first time his sight turned tender, this wouldn’t last. Just like flowers, you would wither. And you had.

And although New York was a bliss to remember, you wanted to forget it because it hurt.

People say that when you break up with someone you should start again. Maybe you would.

And the sun always comes out after the storm. The brightest of dawns would come after the darkest nights.

It would come.

Like a flower you’d bloom again, eventually. But you wondered if any flowers were able to bloom after the coldest of winter frosts.

A change.

But there you were still ignoring Timmy’s call.

Life had presented a chance. And you were wondering if you should take it.

It would be stupid if you didn’t. It wasn’t… The opportunity of a lifetime. Maybe it was But it was a chance for a change.

A big change.

Would you let another chance go because you were still attached to Tom? Would you let go another life because of Tom?

Cherry had called. She was moving to London. Cherry. Your cousin, around your age, few months older, pretty, very pretty and cheerful. Her mother, your mom’s sister, had moved to LA to follow her aspiring acting career but ended up opening a flower shop.

She was quite a character. And she had had a proposition which seemed like a crazy fever dream when she said it:

“I got offered a job in London! Can I go crash your place for a bit? Let’s be roomies! Or we could switch places! Come to LA, and go after your dream, sweetie! Come help with the flower shop!”

That was… An idea. Crazy idea.

Cherry was your cousin, you wouldn’t be alone if she came. That part of the plan you were kind of okay with.

But leaving?

You had told Timmy about it. Because you had to face that, too. Timmy was leaving. Timmy, and you couldn’t be more thankful, had been making sure you didn’t feel lonely. You didn’t know why he had been so kind to you. But Timmy was leaving.

He had told you a few days before, how he had kept it as a secret for a while. He’d be leaving for LA. Hollywood.

And he wouldn’t go alone.

Emma. Emma was going with him, too. They were starting again. A new life. Chasing their dreams, going for the stars.

Hollywood.

So there you had been, wondering if you should tell Cherry to come and live with you. Have some company, not be alone. Maybe she’d make friends and then you could tag along with them.

Or switch places

“What would you lose?” Timmy had asked you. “Maybe it’s the change you need.”

“Dunno. Leaving home to a stranger?”

“It’s your cousin,” Timmy said.

You shrugged. “I don’t like people invading my space.”

“That’s just an excuse for you not to go.”

“Why would I leave?”

“You need a new start, y/n,” Timmy said.

“But I can re-start here,” you pointed out. “Besides, working at a flower shop.”

“Then tell her to come,” Timmy said.

“But I can’t live with… someone,” you chuckled.

“You can, you’re just giving excuses to stay alone.”

You stayed quiet. “I am alone.”

“I don’t want you to be.”

You sighed.

“You could tag along with us, too.”

“Emma wouldn’t like that.”

“She’s forgiven you,” Timmy said.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Timmy had assured you. “She understood it wasn’t your fault.”

You didn’t Answer anything.

“What would you lose if you came to LA, too?”

You would lose your chance to see if Tom ever showed up at your door again.

“Is there anything you could lose?” He asked again.

Was there?

And you had called Emma. And it had been difficult, complicated, and weird at the beginning. You apologized again. Because Emma really didn’t deserve to be there.

She told you she’d given back the ring. You had told her about the kiss… That was not your place to tell her and you would be risking everything by telling her. But you needed a new beginning and this involved telling things. Even if it risked ending things earlier.

But she’d understood. No, it wasn’t easy. And it was a conversation that lasted a couple of days. And at least that had kept you busy. Trying to mend that relationship. And maybe Emma needed a friend, too. Maybe Emma really needed someone too. And of course, she was angry.

She didn’t blame you, though. She believed you. And Emma knew it, then. You told her the whole story, beginning to end. Script and memories and explanations, of everything. You even told her about your feelings for Harry and how angry you were. You told her that yes, you had felt something, but friendship was more important.

You didn’t have that friendship anymore, though.

She understood, more than anything. Because maybe it’s a universal thing. To not know how to feel. To be confused. The heartbreak. To feel like you’re not going to bloom again.

But she saw you, going through the pain that she felt. And you listened to her, and you cursed every damned time the damned script came up. But you understood each other. Because both of you didn’t understand it. And she’d seen your story, and she didn’t blame you. Because sometimes you give everything nd it’s not enough. And maybe that’s why she’d pitied you, because she’d also given everything, but Harry had broken her once, and Tom, Tom had broken you once, twice, three times. And no, it hadn’t been easy. But maybe she needed the other side of the story or maybe she just needed a girl friend.

Just like you needed one.

Because Emma, Emma was lonely too.

Honestly the conversation with her had ended up in the incredible conclusion that all of us women get to eventually: Men are trash.

“Honestly, you know what we should do?” You had said.

“What?”

“Let’s go to Greece, sleep with three men—“

“But—“ Emma frowned.

“Hear me out,” you chuckled. “Make sure we get knocked up—“

“Are you insane?” Emma cackled.

“I haven’t finished,” you laughed. “Open up a nice Greek hotel, wait 20 years until our respective daughters get hitched and wait for them to invite their three possible dads to the wedding. And we can have fun singing ABBA songs.”

“Is that—“

“The plot to Mamma Mia? Absolutely.”

And maybe you should’ve gone to Greece. Honestly you were considering it. But it was soothing, having a friend. It was nice. You had both talked on the floor, crying over two damned Holland’s. You’d start a club. And it was the beginning of an old friendship. It’s nice to have a friend.

So of course you were bummed she was leaving.

“Let’s go to Hollywood, y/n,” Emma said.

Would you take Cherry’s offer?

You wouldn’t. That was only stupid. And though Hollywood was talking to you and you aspired to follow the big dream. The big screen called you, and you were probably blinded by every light that was begging you to go, you knew you’d only reach out for a dream that had tumbled you down. The dream that had withered you. And really, to go without any job? And go work in a flower shop… You loved flowers, but it wasn’t… You didn’t know anything about them, just that yellow flowers made you cry, that Timmy gave you peonies and that lavenders meant calm.

And going to LA without any chance…. No.

Because Timmy had one. And Emma had one.

You didn’t.

So you’d received your cousin. A roommate. Which was… Different. She’d asked about your room, how lonely it seemed. First thing she noticed was the yellow flowers you had, from the scratch bouquets you’d made for Tom.

“Yellow tulips? And yellow roses? Hopeless love and forgiveness? Daffodils? New beginning. Who did you hurt, cousin?”

You didn’t tell her anything about your life, not really. Except you wanted to start a new one. You told her that you were going through a tough time and you wanted a new beginning.

“Like a daffodil, then,” Cherry said.

You didn’t answer.

“Like daffodils, those pretty yellow flowers, you had them here.”

“Yellow… flowers?”

“Yes, perennial flowers, they bloom each year in spring, just after the coldest of winter frost,” she grinned. “They mean new beginnings, we should get some for the house, I believe that flowers help us heal, sometimes we don’t get it but the flowers we choose are normally the ones that say what we want,” she nodded. “You know, maybe it’s cause I’ve been in that flower shop my whole life, but I really do believe that flowers speak for us, so let’s get you some daffodils, get you a new beginning.”

You weren’t a daffodil. But you really were going through a winter frost. At least you felt as cold. But would you bloom?

“Yeah, like a daffodil.”

And life really wanted you to bloom again it seemed, and it really wanted you to have a new beginning. Life then again, gave your other chance.the big opportunity. Life having mercy.

Because there had been another call, too. A few days after Cherry arrived.

“Y/N, hello dear, why haven’t you been answering my calls?”

“I’m sorry, Alessandra, I’ve been… busy.”

“You have a job already?” She asked.

“I—“

“Because if you do I need you to quit right now.”

“What?”

“Because they’re producing your script.”

“I thought they didn’t—“

“I sent it to another studio, we are going to Hollywood, darling.”

And maybe this was your chance to bloom again, like a daffodil. And you had tried to call him, Tom.

And he never came, until it was too late.

And you’d asked Cherry that if he ever came, to give him daffodils. And he had, and he had brought heleniums, evening primroses and chamomiles.

“Yellow flowers, too,” Cherry had told you as soon as you’d landed on LAX. “Funny thing, cousin, he didn’t even know what flowers he’d chosen, can you believe it! But once again the flowers spoke for him, he brought heleniums which mean let me comfort you, and chamomiles, oh chamomiles which mean he admires your courage and the lovely evening primroses, which mean he’s unsteady, but will learn to love you.”

“Did you give him the daffodils?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s funny isn’t it? You both chose yellow.”

“Yeah, funny.”

“The other guy, he brought daisies.”

“Other guy?” You asked.

“Yeah, Harry, he said that was his name.”

Harry had brought you flowers.

“It’s funny isn’t it, the guy in the morning who helped you pack-- He brought peonies.”

“Harry?”

“No, your friend bought peonies,” Cherry pushed. “Those mean romance, huh.”

“No, but… Harry came?”

“Yeah, yeah he brought daisies,” Cherry said. “Isn’t it funny, though, the three of them brought perennial flowers.”

“What even-”

“Perennial flowers, which means they were dormant but that eventually, they'll bloom again.”

But who would bloom?

first chapter. perfidy (final chapter) ( series masterlist)

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btxtreads · 4 years

Text

planetarium || choi soobin

↳ Pairing: Choi Soobin x Reader

↳ word count: 6.5k

↳ genre: fluff, angst, smut, royal!au, medieval!au

↳ trigger warnings: murder, arranged marriage, declarations of war, unprotected sex (there aren’t any condoms yet in this story, but we’re not in the medieval times anymore so pls wrap it) did i miss anything

↳ playlist note: Please listen to Planetarium by Ai Otsuka while reading this. Trust me.

↳ SMUT WARNINGS ARE INDICATED. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION. IN CASE YOU WOULD NOT LIKE TO READ THE SMUT BUT PROCEED WITH THE IMAGINE, A QUICK RECAP OF IMPORTANT DETAILS ARE IN THE BREAKERS. THANK YOU!

“The prince is to be married to the princess of the Northern Isle,” a drunk patron said as he gulped another pint of ale. “A royal wedding means more tourists, more business for me!”

The girl standing by the counters dropped the rag she was holding, gasping as she turned to the man.

“What was that about the prince, sir?”

“The Prince is about to marry, have you not heard? They announced it in the plaza earlier,” Another customer replied, as the drunk patron nodded gruffly.

“Now, what are you gawking about at, girl? Not everyone can be princes and princesses, hurry up and get me some more ale!”

“Yes, sir. Right away, sir,” She sighed, taking the mug and moving towards the back room to refill it with more alcohol.

And that’s how it went for the rest of the day for Y/N, thinking about a wilting dream.

Yes. Not every girl can be a princess, but every girl can dream.

Especially when prince Soobin was up for the taking.

Prince Choi Soobin—the bachelor of the princes.

He was the second oldest in the family of three children—but he was the crown prince after the eldest, Yeonjun, declared that he would rather lead troops than become the king.

Choi Soobin was young, soulful and brave. He had rich brown eyes that seemed to sparkle whenever he smiles. The way he moved and acted is often compared to a bunny—innocent and naive.

Prince Soobin had jet black hair that fell over his eyes, and the softest voice that soothed whoever he talked to.

The country went wild for the prince—swearing that whichever princess he marries would be so lucky.

But a secret the world doesn’t know was that the boy was hard-headed, stubborn than most.

That was why one day, the crown prince left his castle and ventured into the world unknown, and ended up in a petite bakery just by the edge of the town—occupied by none but one.

Y/N worked in a bakery on the odd days—the pub on the evens.

It just so happened that a tall, dark figure entered the bakery on an off day to ask for bread.

“What kind?” Y/N hummed, furrowing her eyebrows at the figure.

The figure was silent, tilting his head to the side.

“We have croissants, loafs, baguettes,” The girl trailed off, blinking in confusion. “You can take your cloak off, you know,”

The figure only stayed on his spot, taking a shuddering breath.

“Um, what do you suggest?” The figure replied softly—it was a boy.

Y/N gave the figure a small grin.

“Croissants,” She gestured over. “If you have a sweet tooth, we have one with chocolate in them. If you want it more meaty or cheesy, we have ham and cheese. We also have plain.”

“Ah,” The boy nodded slowly. “Um, Chocolate, then?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, causing the figure to cough awkwardly. “Yeah—Yes. Yep. Chocolate,”

“You sure?”

“Definitely.”

Y/N laughed, turning her back to the customer.

“Are you going to eat it here?”

“Can I?” The boy replied timidly.

“Have you never eaten inside a shop before?” Y/N laughed, silencing when the figure nodded his head yes.

“Oh, poor thing,” Y/N cooed, grabbing a plate and choosing the biggest chocolate croissant to serve. “Here, follow me. Best table in the house,”

The figure slowly followed her as she sauntered over to the table where the sun hits just right, a delicate smile on her lips as she set the plate of pastries down and plopped on the chair.

“Here you are,” She gestured.

The figure slowly took his seat and gingerly picked up the cutlery set on the table.

“You can take off your coat,” Y/N repeated, leaning her head on her hands as she watched the boy eat.

The figure froze, setting down his cutlery and giving out a small sigh.

“Please don’t scream,”

“Why would I?” Y/N snorted. “Is it because you look hideous—maybe like face half-burnt or like your face is green or—“

As she rambled, the figure slowly lowered his hood to reveal the face plastered all around the country.

“Oh,” Y/N said, eyes wide at the boy in front of her, who smiled sheepishly and continued his meal. “That makes sense, you’re the prince.”

“I’m not supposed to be here,” Soobin sighed, saddened at the fact that the first even genuine human interaction he’s had outside the castle had to end abruptly—just because he’s the prince.

Soobin expected the girl to scream, ask for a bribe for hiding him, demand for something—but he wasn’t ready for the girl to smile gently at him with crossed arms.

“So, tell me. What’s the crown prince doing out here when you’re supposed to be doing princely things at the giant castle uptown?”

Soobin blinked.

“You’re—“ Soobin gaped. “You’re not calling the knights on me? Or asking for money? or—“

Y/N didn’t find it in her heart to take offense, rather amused at the prince’s naivete.

“No,” Y/N chuckled. “No, I’m not like that,”

Soobin gulped down his food, nodding slowly.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Soobin admitted. “I feel like a prisoner in my own life sometimes. I have to stand, look pretty, smile and rule. I have to live the rest of my life as Prince Soobin, when I just want a chance to find out who Soobin really is. I just…”

The prince trailed off, looking up at the amused girl.

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown,” the girl teased, making Soobin scoff.

“Yeah,” Soobin trailed off.

“Your majesty,” Y/N started, straightening. “Why did you come here?”

“I want to fall in love,” came Soobin’s bold declaration. “I want to have friends. I want to live before I get locked up there with a crown on my head and a woman I don’t even know sleeping in my bed,”

Y/N smiled.

“Can you help me?” Soobin asked.

“I’m a peasant girl, your majesty.” Y/N shook her head. “I don’t know what I can offer you,”

“I don’t want you to offer anything,” Soobin said. “I just want you to show me how to live,”

Y/N chuckled.

“Fine, then,” Y/N laughed, making Soobin grin in relief.

“What’s your name?” Soobin asked, as the girl stood up to take her apron off.

“Y/N.” The girl replied, turning to him. “What’s yours?”

“But you—“

“I said, what’s your name?” Y/N asked, eyes glinting in mischief as Soobin smiled.

“I’m Soobin. Nice to meet you.”

Y/N laughed out loud as Soobin coughed his lungs out in front of her.

“God, what is this shit?” Soobin hissed, slamming the cup down on the table.

“Alcohol,” Y/N cackled. “It’s what real men drink,”

Soobin scrunched up his nose, causing Y/N to land a small boop onto it.

It has been one year since Y/N and Soobin had met in the small bakery just by the edge of the town, and now here they were, a few hours past the pub’s closing time.

As Y/N wiped down the tables, Soobin sat by the counter watching—which made the girl give him the strongest alcohol in the house.

“We drink alcohol in the castle too, you know,” Soobin coughed, gagging at the burn.

“That’s for sad posh people who can’t handle their alcohol, this is for real men,” Y/N teased, hand slowly inching to take the glass away. “But, I mean, if you can’t take it—“

Soobin’s eyes narrowed, the atmosphere suddenly turning tense and competitive.

“Fuck you, Y/N,” He hissed, downing the whole cup in one go.

Again, he was thrown into a fit of coughs as Y/N laughed.

“You didn’t have to down it!” Y/N giggled, stifling her laughter as she took the cup away from the grumbling prince.

“Yeah, yeah, fuck you,”

Y/N clicked her tongue, a grin on her face.

“What—that’s not what a gentleman should say to a lady,” Y/N pouted teasingly. “Definitely not what a prince should say to his subjects.”

“You are not my subject,”

“Yeah?” Y/N laughed, leaning in closer to the frowning boy. “I am a citizen in your country, where you’re royalty. So, technically—“

“You’re not my subject,” Soobin repeated, voice deeper as he leaned in as well—face so close to Y/N that one small move would attach their lips to one another.

Y/N’s breath hitched as Soobin’s eyes fell to her lips, his face inching closer and closer.

“Soobin?” Y/N asked, making the boy breathe as he close his eyes.

“Just,” Soobin sighed. “shut up for a second.”

Just as his lips brushed hers, Y/N made a move to press her lips deeper onto his when the door to the pub slammed wide open—a shrill voice screaming.

“Noona, not in my pub!”

Soobin yelped, falling back on the chair and onto the floor as Y/N flinched, her body falling forward and face smacking on the counter.

By the door, a boy as tall as Soobin gaped at the figures on the floor as a smaller boy swiftly locked the doors and closed the windows.

Y/N straightened up, wincing as she saw Soobin lying flat on his back on the floor, his eyes connected to the startled boys at the door.

“Soobin, get up,” Y/N sighed, walking forward to help the boy sit up.

“I’m up, I’m up,” the prince muttered, standing and shifting on his feet sheepishly.

Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose as the boys stayed silent.

“Y/N, who are they?” he whispered, hand grasping on her arm as he stood protectively behind her.

“Stand down,” Y/N sighed, glaring at the two boys. “That’s Kai and Taehyun—remember when I told you about them? The, uh, orphans that got adopted? Yeah, um, their parents own the pub,”

Kai squeaked in his place as Taehyun’s eyes shifted between the prince and Y/N, blinking in confusion.

“Oh,” Soobin relaxed, stepping out to stand beside Y/N. “Nice to finally meet you, Kai, Taehyun!”

“Thanks for screaming, by the way,” Y/N snorted, her hand shooting two thumbs-ups to Kai.

“So,” Soobin awkwardly started as the two boys made their way to behind the counter, sticking close to Y/N. “You two are brothers?”

“Yes.” “Adopted.”

Kai and Taehyun exchange nervous looks as Soobin took a seat on the counter.

“Guys, calm down,” Y/N sighed, placing cups in front of the boys and Soobin—saving one for herself.

“Does this have alcohol?” Taehyun asked.

“Nice try,” Y/N smirked. “No, not until you’re both of age,”

Soobin cracked a small smile as Y/N took a seat next to him, watching the two boys whine.

“Come on, Y/N!” Kai protested. “Just one little sip!”

“No,” Y/N snorted, taking a sip of her own drink.

Soobin followed suit, coughing again as he sputtered.

“Y/N, what the hell is this?”

“I don’t know I mixed our strongest alcohol,” Y/N wiggled her eyebrows. “Taste nice?”

“Fuck you, Y/N,”

“Hey, Y/N, if the prince can say fuck you then why can’t I?”

“Kai!”

Y/N sighed, closing the door to the bakery behind her.

It was three months after the whole incident in the pub with Taehyun and Kai—who now feels comfortable enough with the prince to be calling him “hyungie” instead of “Your Majesty” and to be concoting millions of pranks against her with the crown prince himself.

It was a tough three months, and Y/N thought it was about to get even tougher as she glanced back at her company.

It was a great surprise to Y/N, when the final customer left and she started cleaning, a familiar tall figure in a jet black coat was racing towards her shop.

The figure slammed the door shut, leaning on it as he breathed heavily—his hood completely covering her face.

“If I didn’t know any better, Bin, I’d say you’re being chased,” Y/N teased making the boy lower his hood and glare at the girl.

“I am, Y/N,”

Before Y/N could ask what he meant, a strong force banged on the door.

Soobin’s body lurched as he pressed himself to it.

“Open the door, or I won’t hesitate to break it down!” came a voice.

Soobin bit his lip as he sighed, Y/N growing concerned.

“Who is that?”

Soobin only shook his head.

“We shouldn’t let them—“

He screeched as the door flew open, his body landing on the floor.

Y/N shot over to help the whining prince, helping him sit up before looking back at the doorway to find the intruders.

Instead of ruffians, assassins, or whatever she thought she should have expected, she certainly didn’t expect the eldest and youngest prince smiling down on her and their brother.

Yeonjun, the eldest prince, had his shoulder on the fore-front—perhaps having used it to shove the door open.

He shot a gigantic smile, his eyes practically disappearing as he giggled.

“Hi,” he greeted.

Behind him was the youngest prince, Beomgyu, who seemed to be rocking back and forth on his heels happily.

He laughed, pointing over at Soobin on the floor.

“Ha, stupid!” He teased.

“Fuck off,” Soobin groaned, standing back up.

Yeonjun gasped dramatically, his hand on his heart as he pouted.

“You wound me. Is that anything to say to your dearest older brother?” Yeonjun fake-sobbed on Beomgyu’s shoulder, who only laughed.

Yeonjun turned back to Y/N with a wide smile.

“So, you’re Y/N,”

Y/N only replied with a nervous smile as Soobin glowered at his brothers.

“Why won’t you both come in for some coffee?”

So, now, here they are.

Standing blankly in the middle of the bakery were the two princes of the country—Yeonjun and Beomgyu—as they gazed around the small shop.

Soobin, on the other hand, sulked in his usual table as Y/N stood, leaning on his chair with a hand on his shoulder.

“So, um, what is happening?” Y/N laughed nervously. “Why are there three princes on my shop?”

Yeonjun smiled at her again.

Y/N gulped nervously, making Soobin glare at his brother.

“We, uh, usually just accommodate, um,” Y/N blinked, perturbed at Yeonjun’s smile. “Uh, just… uh, one prince at a time,”

Beomgyu smiled at her too, making the girl agitated.

“Are we, uh, just going to smile at each other?” Y/N scratched the back on her neck, sighing as she shot Soobin a pointed look. “Soobin, talk.”

Soobin groaned, throwing his head back.

“It’s not my fault! They said they were going to tell dad that I sneak out if I don’t introduce you!” Soobin whined.

“Bin, a simple heads-up would have sufficed.”

“Yeah?” Soobin snorted, pointing over at his brothers. “Tell it to them. They insisted today!”

“Hyung, you told us you were going to introduce her weeks ago.” Beomgyu pointed out, making Yeonjun nod.

Y/N raised her eyebrow, looking back at Soobin.

“What, are you ashamed that I’m a peasant?” Y/N snorted, making Soobin gasp in offense.

“No, I’m not ashamed of you!” Soobin sputtered, pointing again at his brothers. “I’m ashamed of them!”

“Why exactly?”

“Look at them, Y/N-ie,” Soobin complained. “They’re bullying me!”

Y/N sighed in exasperation as Soobin continued to whine, hand tugging on hers.

She gave the two princes a nod of acknowledgement.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, your majesties.”

“Y/N, pay attention to me!” Soobin whined, still tugging on Y/N’s hand.

“It’s nice to finally meet the girl my baby brother’s in love with!” Yeonjun cheered.

“No, I’m not!” Soobin protested, tugging on Y/N’s hand. “Y/N, don’t listen to them!”

“Tell me,” Beomgyu said, his eyes sparkling. “What’s it like to be dating my brother?”

“Dating?” Y/N asked, turning to Soobin with raised eyes.

“Y/N, they’re shitting!” Soobin whined, finally standing up. “Just go home!”

“Why won’t you introduce me to your girlfriend?” Yeonjun whined loudly.

“Because you’re scaring her!” Soobin replied, making Y/N shake her head.

“Not really,” she muttered as Soobin interlaced their hands.

“Seriously, you guys are being creepy!” Soobin groaned.

“We’re going to meet her one way or another—you can’t stop us!” Beomgyu declared.

“We’ve already met,” Y/N sighed, smiling as the three brothers fought in front of her like regular siblings do.

It’s been a year since then.

Yeonjun and Beomgyu occasionally tag along with Soobin on his visits, having even met Kai and Taehyun on some occasions.

Beomgyu, when left alone with Kai and Taehyun, is a living nightmare as the two enabled the prince to do all the pranks he wished.

Y/N and Soobin often being the unfortunate targets.

It’s been three hours now since Y/N found out about Soobin’s engagement—sighing as she closed the pub door.

Not every girl can be a princess, but every girl can dream.

As Y/N turned to walk back home, she was shocked to see a gigantic figure in a black cloak stalk towards her.

Any girl would feel fear and anxiety when they see a six-foot tall hooded figure stalking towards them in full speed—but not Y/N. Not when she knew that it was him.

Y/N huffed in surprise as the figure collided towards her, hands encircling her waist tightly and head burying on her shoulder.

“Y/N,” Soobin whispered on her neck.

“I’ve heard,” Y/N smiled weakly, pushing the boy away. “congratulations on your engagement, by the way.”

“I don’t want the engagement!” Soobin said, huffing in irritation. “People keep congratulating me—I don’t want it!”

“Soobin, this is the first step to ascending to the throne!” Y/N explained calmly as Soobin took heavy breaths angrily. “And you’re marrying—“

“I don’t want to get married.”

“—the princess of the Northern Isle—“

“I don’t want her.”

“and she’s going to be your queen!”

“I don’t want her to be my queen!” Soobin raged.

“Soobin, you actually lucked out, she’s a beautiful princess—“

“I don’t want a beautiful princess!” Soobin replied.

“It’s the law, Soobin. You’re a prince, you’re marrying to be a king. Princes marry princesses.”

“I don’t want to marry a princess!” Soobin exclaimed angrily, waving his hands. “You don’t understand—I don’t want a princess, I don’t want her!”

“Then, what the hell do you want, Soobin?” Y/N angrily replied, glaring over at the boy. “And while we’re on the topic—why are you even here?”

Soobin glared angrily, taking heavy breaths as he stood.

“Look at your fancy clothes—you should be in your engagement ball, right?” Y/N spat. “You’re not supposed to be here. You’re not even supposed to talk to me—“

“Shut up.”

“You’re not even supposed to know me!” Y/N exclaimed. “Think about it—I’m nobody! I’m not smart, I’m not beautiful. I’m not the daughter of some lord or a princess from some far away country—I’m a peasant slaving away at a pub and a bakery everyday trying to survive. You—“

Soobin surged forward, hand grasping her jaw roughly as he crashed his lips on hers.

He pulled away, scoffing.

“Got something else to say?”

“Soobin—“

His hands shifted to her waist, roughly pulling her closer and kissing her once more.

This time, Y/N melted to the kiss as her arms reached up to encircle his neck—toying with the hair behind his head.

Y/N tilted her head as Soobin deepened the kiss, kissing her harder, faster, more passionately.

He pulled away, leaning his forehead on hers as he sighed.

“Soobin,” Y/N started. “You’re making a big mistake,”

“No,” Soobin shook his head. “You will never be a mistake.”

Y/N’s eyes softened, hands running through his hair.

“You can’t run from your future,”

“Of course not,” Soobin shook his head. “My future is you,”

“Soobin, I’m not your future.” Y/N said sadly, cupping his face in her palms. “Please.”

“Y/N, look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t feel anything between you and me,” Soobin pleaded, his hands above hers.

Y/N shook her head.

“I can’t because I do,” Y/N whimpered, closing her eyes. “but you’re going to be a king,”

“And you’re going to be my queen,”

“I’m not a princess, Soobin,” Y/N whispered.

Soobin shook his head and leaned back down, connecting his lips to hers again.

With tears leaking out of her eyes, she kissed back.

“I’m going to marry you,”

“Soobin, they won’t let you,” Y/N explained, her hands grasping his head to gently lead his gaze back on hers. “If you try, they’ll stop you—“

“Try and stop me then.”

It’s been three months since his engagement was announced, and nullified the next day.

Y/N could still remember the gossip when the prince released a statement himself, instead of the usual written memorandums and announcements by the royal court.

“I, Prince Soobin, wish not to marry the princess of the Northern Isle. I have promised my own betrothal to a woman of my own choosing, not the country’s—not my father’s.”

A morning three months later Y/N experienced what was, honestly, the most impulsive day she’s ever had—and she had no regrets.

The day started like any ordinary day, until Soobin bursted into the pub with the giddiest smile on his face.

“Let’s get married.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows as Kai almost fell off his chair.

Used to the commotion, Taehyun continued to read his book at a stool by the bar.

Yeonjun rushed past the crown prince, shaking the girl by her shoulders.

“He’s gone mad. He’s finally gone mad,” Yeonjun whispered.

“No, I’m not,” Soobin said, looking at the girl with a lovestruck look. “I just love her,”

“Okay, okay,” Y/N released her rag, walking over to the prince and running her hand through his hair as Yeonjun proceeded to whine to a startled Hueningkai. “What’s wrong, love?”

Beomgyu arrived, immediately skipping over to bother Taehyun and Hueningkai with his brother—paying the young couple by the doorway no mind.

“I want to marry you,”

“I know,” Y/N said, nodding. “now?”

“Yes,”

“Why?”

“Honestly, other than I want you all to myself as soon as possible,” Soobin squeezed her hand, making Y/N smile. “The North Isle has been increasing pressure on me to marry the princess soon, something about dad close to dying and me being a weak king if I don’t have a queen with strong ties—“

“Do you believe them?”

“Of course not,” Soobin rolled his eyes. “but I just thought this is the perfect time—the perfect reason to get married, you know?”

Y/N smiled. “Are you sure?”

“Never been surer of anything in my life.”

“Okay,”

And so they did.

They found a decrepit church—marrying with only Taehyun, Kai, Yeonjun and Beomgyu as their witnesses.

“We’ll figure out how to break it to the country later,” Soobin said, laying a swift kiss on his new wife’s lips. “For now, let’s go home,”

And now here she was—spread bare on the crown prince’s bed, whining.

She threw her head back as Soobin tightened his grip on her leg.

“Soobin,” she whimpered, her hand reaching down to grasp on his hair as he pounded his fingers harder and harder into her. “Please, please, please, please,”

“Hm?” He asked nonchalantly as he stopped his minstrations, “What was that?”

“Please, Soobin,” Y/N practically sobbed. “Let me come, please,”

Soobin snickered, head swooping down to plant a kiss on her lips.

“Bin,” she gasped, sobbing as the boy pulled his fingers out of her heat.

“I’m going to fuck you today,” Soobin whispered. “I’m going to fuck a prince my wife’s belly, how amazing,”

Y/N smiled as Soobin rushed to remove his trousers as fast as he can, inching back up to level himself with her face.

“Hi,”

“Hi,” Y/N smiled, giggling as Soobin buried his head on her neck to press quick butterfly kisses.

“Are you ready?”

“As long as it’s with you,”

Soobin smiled against her neck, looking down briefly to line himself up with her entrance.

“Just,” Y/N sighed. “Be gentle.”

Soobin laid a quick kiss on her lips, easing himself in slowly.

Y/N winced, squeezing Soobin’s hands as he muttered quick apologies.

“I’m sorry,” he said as he bottomed out.

“It’s okay, just,” Y/N sighed, breathing in sharply. “give me a minute.”

Soobin nodded understandably, laying small fleeting kisses on her face, neck and jaw while she laid down.

After a few seconds, Y/N shifted her hips—making the prince above her groan.

“Does it hurt?”

“No,” Soobin whimpered. “It feels really good, you’re so tight,”

Y/N cracked a smile.

“You can move now,”

Soobin let out a sigh of relief, laying a gentle kiss on her lips as he gave an experimental thrust.

Y/N took a sharp breath.

“Does it still hurt?” Soobin asked worriedly.

“No,” Y/N bit her lip. “Do it again.”

Soobin grinned, beginning a slow pace of thrusts.

Y/N bit her lip, suppressing her moans.

“Louder,” Soobin begged. “Let me hear you,”

“Soobin,” Y/N whimpered. “Faster.”

Soobin let out a husky laugh as he picked up her leg, adjusting his pace.

“Oh god,” Y/N breathed, laying her head back and the prince started a relentless pace. “Please, please,”

“Please?”

“Please, don’t stop,” Y/N moaned as she reached up to claw on his back. “Shit. Please keep going,”

Soobin didn’t reply, continuing his fast pace.

His hand slowly inched over to her clit, pressing down and making slow figure eights with his thumbs.

“Say my name,”

Y/n didn’t reply, only responding with a loud moan.

Soobin cursed, hand reaching down to pull on her hair.

“Fuck, say my name, baby,” Soobin whined. “God, who gets to touch you and see you like this? Only me, right?”

“Yes,” She replied, whimpering. “Only you. Please, please.”

“Say my name, baby.”

“Soobin,” Y/N thrashed, groans and moans of his name spilling out of her lips. “God, you feel so good, please Soobin. Don’t stop.”

“Mine,” Soobin huffed roughly, his hands creating marks on her hips as he drove in and out of her as fast and as hard as he could. “Only mine to spoil, only mine to fuck. My wife. Mine.”

Y/N bit her lip, throwing her head back as she felt a powerful force pulling on her abdomen.

“Soobin, I’m-I’m—“

Soobin panted, his thrusts losing rhythm and getting sloppier by the minute as he muttered over at his wife.

“I love you, I love you,” Soobin muttered kissing her lips through her whines. “Come with me,”

At his cue, Y/N threw her head back, vision flashing a bright white as she came.

Soobin groaned as he gave his last thrusts, head falling down to take a huge bite at Y/N’s neck before he released, painting her walls white.

Soobin fucked them both through their highs, his fingers dancing over the bite mark on her neck.

“Does it hurt?”

“No,” Y/N smiled. “Nothing hurts when you’re with me.”

Soobin smiled, hands intertwining with his wife’s as he stopped his thrusting—laying a quick kiss on her lips.

“I love you, Soobin.”

She laid a delicate kiss on his lips, sighing fondly as she wiped the sweat off of his brow.

“I love you, too.” Soobin smiled, fingers toying with the golden band on her ring finger.

The next day, Soobin took his new wife to present to his father—delighted at the positive response.

“This is what a queen should be—not only a queen of the palace, but a queen of the people,” his father declared.

Two days later, the royal couple started arranging a royal wedding.

Two weeks later, they’ve announced their marriage to the public, marrying in the public eye fast-forward another week—along with the king passing his throne over to the new king and queen.

The nation was joyed—the golden prince married a queen of common-folk—all was well.

Until four months later, when the Northern Isle sent a letter of grief.

“The princess is saddened to hear about the news of Prince Soobin’s marriage—we find this a personal offense to our country. Our princess is to not be seen as lower than a barmaid at a pub and a saleswoman in a bakery shoppe.”

Soobin sent back an apology.

One week later, they gave back a declaration of war.

“We accuse the King, Soobin, of treason for breaking negotiations and our princess’ heart. We are in grief.”

“I, Soobin, have never given my consent to the engagement—rather, it was decided by the court and your princess. This was not my intention.”

“The war starts today.”

One year later and Soobin never thought he’d see the day when he’s too late—running into the throne room and staring at his queen taking heaving breaths as she clutched the arrow protruding from her stomach.

“Y/N, Y/N, no!” He screamed, dropping his sword with a loud clatter as he ran over to the queen.

As he ran, another arrow shot forward, hitting the junction between her chest.

“No,” Soobin whimpered as he reached the girl, who lay crumpled on a heap on the floor.

“My—“

“Shh, it’s okay,” Soobin muttered, encasing the girl in his arms as he rocked them back and forth, not even bothering to acknowledge the assassin taking aim at him.

A loud thud was heard as Yeonjun ran in, picking up a fallen crossbow from the floor and shooting the assassin point blank.

“Soobin!” Yeonjun cursed, stumbling towards the two. “Y/N, oh god—“

“Yeonjun. Hyung, please,” Soobin sobbed. “Get help,”

Yeonjun cursed as he nodded, laying a quick kiss on the girl’s forehead and stumbling out of the throne room frantically to look for a doctor.

“Y/N, stay with me,” Soobin sobbed, his forehead leaning on hers. “please,”

“I’m sorry, Bin,” Y/N panted, coughing out blood.

Despite this, she mustered up the strength to give him a small smile.

“Hey, don’t cry, you big baby.”

“Shut up,” Soobin sobbed, cradling her face. “Now is not the time,”

“Ah, I’m sorry, love,” Y/N winced. “I told you I wasn’t your future,”

“No, no,” Soobin shook his head frantically. “Stop talking like you’re dying today. You’re not dying today.”

“Soobin—“

“Yeonjun! Beomgyu!” Soobin screamed. “Somebody!”

Y/N coughed again, wincing as she mustered up her energy to lift her arms and pull his head down.

Soobin sobbed harder as his mouth connected to hers.

Y/N pulled away, smiling.

“Soobin, I’d take these few short years with you over one whole lifetime,” Y/N laughed, tears flowing out of her eyes.

Soobin closed his eyes, laying a kiss on her forehead.

“Does it hurt?” He muttered to her forehead.

“No,”

“Why?”

“Because you’re here,” Y/N said. “Nothing hurts when you’re here,”

Soobin’s body shook as tears continuously poured out of his eyes.

He can hear the shouting, the screaming from outside—but none of it matters anymore.

Not when his reason for fighting is dying in his arms.

Sensing his thoughts, Y/N looked back up at him.

“Soobin, you are the best king this country has ever had,” Y/N whispered. “Keep being that king. Okay?”

Soobin sniffled, silent as he gazed at her eyes for as long as he can—even just for one last time.

Y/N took his hand gripping it tightly as she sighed.

“Soobin, I need you to promise me you’ll move on and continue—marry, have kids. Be the king the land deserves.”

“I’ll try,”

“Good,” Y/N closed her eyes, chuckling. “I’m sorry I didn’t give you the family you wanted.”

Soobin’s smiled gently, shaking his head.

“It doesn’t matter, you’re all I ever wanted.” Soobin said, laying another kiss on her forehead. “Y/N, I love you.”

There was no response—the tight grip on his hand loosening.

He heard Y/N’s crown falling off of her head.

Heavy was the head that wears the crown. Soobin often thought, eyes locking onto the crown. He has to watch the people he loves one-by-one.

Soobin clutched the dead queen in his arms, not making any sound as he let the tears flow down on his face.

Yeonjun burst into the throne room, an infirmary doctor behind him.

“Soobin, here’s—“

Yeonjun stopped, glancing down at his crying brother holding the girl in his arms.

Beomgyu appeared next to his brother, gasping at the sight on the floor.

“Is she—“

“Yeah, Gyu.”

The young prince only stayed silent, as he watched Soobin mourn on the floor next to his lost love.

Yeonjun only stared at the queen’s corpse on the floor—frozen and unsure.

Taking charge, Beomgyu gulped down his tears and cleared his throat.

“Clear out the fields, prepare a pyre and prepare two royal funeral shrouds,” Beomgyu declared to a nearby soldier, who nodded and left.

“Two?” Yeonjun asked, turning over to Beomgyu.

Beomgyu gave his brother a look of sadness as Soobin looked up at him, clutching onto his dead wife.

“Yes. One for the queen, and one for her unborn child.”

At this, the king released his first pained scream.

Soobin didn’t feel any pain, really.

He remembered he lied on his bed, in the bedroom.

His wedding portrait with Y/N directly placed on the mantle in front of the fireplace, as the loud crackle of the burning embers almost comforted him.

He remembered his first great-grand daughter, and third great-grandchild, being presented to him by the king—Beomgyu’s son, and the new queen—Taehyun’s daughter.

Princess Y/N, Second of her Name—it was the official title of the new princess, who will get to live the nice and happy life the first Y/N never got to live.

His fingers fiddled with the two wedding rings, his and Y/N’s, on his frail fingers as he fell asleep.

And then he woke up.

It was a field under the stars.

Soobin was appalled—how did he get from falling asleep in his bed to the middle of a flower field?

He reached up to fiddle with the wedding rings on his fingers before realizing there was only one.

Y/N’s was missing.

“No, no, no, no,” He muttered to himself, eyes brimming with tears as he turned in circles and swept the flowers to the side—looking for the ring. “Where—“

It was only then that Soobin realized that he was wearing white shoes and white pants.

He realized he was wearing a bright red coat with a golden sash—the crown of the king heavy on his head once again for the first time since he gave it off to Beomgyu’s son during the coronation.

His hands weren’t pale and wrinkly, only smooth and strong. Nothing hurt anymore.

He even saw strands of black hair falling over his eyes like it used to before, when he was young.

“How—“ he muttered, walking over to a nearby pond to gaze at his reflection.

It was him—well, the young him. Looking exactly the same as he did on the day he was crowned king and the day he got married to—

“Don’t you look dashing?”

He turned around, gasping as he saw her for the first time in more than five decades.

She sat on the flower bed, at the edge of the pond with her diamond-encrusted shoes thrown haphazardly next to her.

Her hair cascaded down her back as she sent him a small smile, legs tucked in as she let her wedding gown flow around her.

“Y/N,” he stumbled over to the girl, making her giggle.

“Hi,” she smiled up at him, reaching up to cup his face as tears slowly started to roll down.

“Don’t cry,”

“Is this a dream?” He asked, voice shaking. “I don’t want to wake up,”

“It’s not, it’s not,” Y/N reassured, leaning her forehead on his. “I promise.”

Soobin leaned forward to plant a delicate kiss on her lips, holding on in fear of her disappearing on him again.

“Don’t leave me,”

“Not anymore, Bin. I promise.” Y/N reassured, running her hands through his hair like she always used to. “We’ve been waiting,”

“We?” Soobin asked, his eyes still closed.

“Yes, we,” Y/N snorted. “Beomgyu would like you to know that you took an awfully long time dying. I think he missed you,”

“Beomgyu?”

“And Yeonjun,” Y/N smiled. “said something about how he never expected you’d outlive Beomgyu. Something about bad weeds should have died last. There was a big argument.”

Yeonjun and Beomgyu—the two princes.

Yeonjun died not long after Y/N, much to the grief of the people.

In the war to stop the attack of the Northern Isles, the prince led the fray and gave his life to ensure all troops returned home—letting himself blow in a ship of explosives to cause a distraction.

Years later, Beomgyu married and had a son.

It wasn’t long until he followed his brother to the grave, dying of sickness at an early age.

“Speaking of Beomgyu,” Y/N hummed leaning her head on Soobin’s chest. “Why did you give the crown to his son?”

“Because I didn’t have an heir,” Soobin chuckled.

“Why didn’t you get a wife, have a son?”

Soobin only smiled, raising up her hand and marvelling at the way the golden band rested comfortably on her finger—shining as it always did.

Y/N smiled.

“Taehyun and Kai misses you too, by the way. Kai said he missed his sparring buddy, Taehyun and Yeonjun go too hard sometimes,” Y/N explained.

Like typical best-friends-turned-brothers, Taehyun and Kai grew up together—mourned the queen, their best friend, together—and died together.

It was so fitting, how Taehyun died a few days after his daughter was crowned queen due to the plague—and Kai following him a few days later with the same reason.

The brothers who did everything together, leaving together.

“It must have been hard,” Y/N said, sighing as she ran a hand through his hair.

Soobin nodded, taking a deep breath as he placed another kiss on her lips.

Y/N tilted her head, her gaze soft and affectionate.

“You were a good king—the best king,” Y/N smiled, causing Soobin to shake his head.

“I did it all for you,” Soobin replied. “you told me to.”

“I knew you could do it,” Y/N sighed, standing up and dusting her gown. “Soobin, you didn’t answer me. Why didn’t you marry?”

Soobin breathed, his hand grabbing hers to place a delicate kiss over her knuckles.

“I can’t see myself next to anyone but you,” Soobin said, hands falling to her waist as he leaned in. “The only one I want to marry, the only one I want to have kids with—you are my future.”

Y/N closed her eyes, tears falling from her face as she chuckled.

“Soobin, I didn’t say it back.” Y/N said.

“Hm?”

“When I died,” Y/N said. “I didn’t get to say it back,”

Soobin smiled, pressing his lips onto hers.

Y/N gasped, tears falling down as she melted into the kiss—her hands wrapping around his neck just like the first time they kissed.

“I love you, Soobin.”

“I love you, too,” Soobin smiled, kissing her once more. “Now, come on. Show me where Beomgyu is—Life after death and he’s still talking smack,”

Y/N smiled as she pulled him along to the castle behind the light, to the place of kings, to the city of stars.

Right where they belong.

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searchingforbucky · 4 years

Text

Fic Rec (Part 19) :)

Hi everyone! And welcome to day 1273198172 of quarantine lol. On a serious note, I hope you all are staying safe, happy, and healthy. I know these stories in this list provided me much needed entertainment for the past week or so, and I’m hoping they will help you all the same. I love this AU, its always so fun to see the different routes people take, so without further ado welcome to the Vampire!Bucky Rec List :) *** Means Smut Sorry its a bit short, theres not many out there. The links weren't working so there is none in this.

Biting Cold by @hootyhoobuckaroo

OK so this one I think is a perfect start to the vampire list. This one is absolutely fantastic. So it’s about Bucky and the reader being in a pre-establish relationship, when suddenly some freaky stuff starts happening very close to home. So Buckys a Vampire, and the reader doesn’t know it. But the reader is terrified of vampires. Obviously that causes a little problem. I just really liked how unique of a storyline this was, I love just how genuine the fear was and the emotions they had were. It constantly kept me on the edge of my seat because I was wondering what was gonna happen. I am absolutely in love with protective bucky so you know that this has it lol. And honestly I just really loved how one it was well written, but to reply with something that I had never read before. And I don’t wanna spoil it or anything, but it was just a real nailbiter. Definitely recommend.

All My Friends Are Heathens by @sebseyesandbuckysthighs ***

OK, so I think this one was the first vampire Bucky story that I ever read, and it’s absolutely fantastic. So this one is about Bucky being a vampire, and he’s amongst the avengers who are all their own sort of “monster“. And the reader comes to visit them, and Bucky is just absolutely drawn to her, and unfortunately she is human. I think my favorite thing about this story is just how well drawn out each character is, I was absolutely invested in not only their relationship growing, but the whole storyline in general. I was obsessed in learning about what the different monsters were, what their little thing was that they did. And I really loved how absolutely cocky and mysterious Bucky was. This one is smutty, but nothings wrong with that LOL. This is just a really good, really head turning story. A lot of twists in this

Bad Things by @xbuchananbarnes *** (kinda)

All right, now this one is really something. So this one was incredibly interesting. It’s about Bucky in the reader being in a pre-established relationship, and he promised to turn her when she turns 28, but in the meantime he makes her move to 10 different places so that way she can get used a whole bunch of different things that she would have to win when she does actually become a vampire. I really liked how mysteries this one is, just how sweet they are together. The fact that her 10th Pl. is what it is, for the reason it is, is something that is incredibly sweet to me. anyways, I loved seeing all of the little snippets in to how they met, and everything like that. but I really honestly just love how sort of vague it is? If that makes sense? Like there are so many possibilities that your mind is running for miles after you read it. It’s one of those stories that you just keep thinking about, you keep thinking about what the other eight places were, what’s going to happen in the future it’s really awesome. The sequel is even wilder lol.

Thirsty by @jobean12-blog ***

So this one is a short yet sexy little Drabble. It’s technically a vampire Bucky, though it’s not necessarily like a main focus of the story. But I really liked it so I’m going to include it anyway. This one is just you know really cute. It shows the fun little feisty side to them, it’s pretty sexy, some dirty talk that’s like....damn lol. But I really just like stories that show couples are kind of so obsessed with each other, and so in love with each other, that they’re able to have fun in that way no matter where they are. I really liked it

Craving You by @propertyofpoeandbucky ***

So this one is really cool, this one is about vampire Bucky and succubus reader. It is a compilation of little drabbles, and it’s really interesting. So I love seeing the dynamic between the two of them, just how interesting it is to see how they deal with their lifestyles, and having to do it together. And stuff happens that they have to navigate how they’re going to deal with it. I don’t wanna spoil it but it something that is very interesting to see. It’s also kinda smutty so that’s nice hahaha. Just a really cute, really interesting story

Blood Bound by @the-omni-princess ***

Ohhhhhh man! Now this one! This one is like a TV series I swear, like vampire diaries but a lot better. So this one is about vampire Bucky and a witch reader. And it is so freaking good, and so interesting. So currently is on hiatus, but I thought it was awesome enough to put it in there anyways. Because it doesn’t matter how much of it there is, what there is is amazing. It is like so nailbiting, there’s so many twists and turns and angst, but it’s also incredibly cute. i’ve never read a story like this, and I’m not sure if anybody else could do it like this. And I love how the soulmate idea is interwoven in there, I’m a sucker for soulmates. Honestly it’s like every trope that I love is somehow in this story, but it’s not overwhelming, it’s just really well done. In the world that’s created is so immersive and awesome

In the Dark by @persephone-is-here-omg

All right, I really like this one too. I think my favorite part about this one is the fact that it relates Canon Bucky to vampire but you. It talks about how Hydra made him a vampire and the torture that he went through because he was a vampire. I really like how it didn’t completely get rid of his story, it wasn’t fully an AU, and that’s so interesting and cool to me man. And I also thought it was interesting seeing all the small little snippet into their relationship. It’s interesting to see EV juxtaposition of how she willingly gives up everything for him, but he got that stuff stolen from hydra. It’s just a really interesting story

Sunshine by @iwillbeinmynest ***

Alright so this one was amazing. This one is about vampire Bucky, and it’s honestly pretty sad, at the beginning he had basically resigned himself to live a life in the cold. However he needs the reader who somehow can make him feel warm. And that was honestly the cutest part of the story, just how much he loved feeling warm, and she made him feel warm in so many different ways both physically and emotionally and it was so soft. But don’t let that trick you into thinking that this is just a soft story, there are absolutely some crazy things happening in the story. And I absolutely love Tony in this, I think it’s a great representation of him. Such a really awesome story

Men of the Moon by @hellomissmabel

So this one is really cool. It is a vampire diaries a you. It’s also kind of a Stucky x reader but not a Stucky fic if that makes sense? Like Bucky x reader and Steve x reader but no throuple. Obviously, that would be weird because they’re brothers lol. Anyways, now that I just rambled through that. I really love this. I think that all of the characters fit into the vampire diaries characters very well. I’ve honestly never liked vampire diaries, but this made me really like it LOL. I think it was done so much better than the actual show was, why couldn’t the show be like this. anyways, it was just so interesting to read the dynamic between the three characters, and everyone else really. I also loved just how invade the ending was, it’s like I can imagine so many different things happening after it and that’s always something that’s really nice with the story when I can kind of finish it myself.

Hungry Eyes by @lenavonschweetz ***

OHHHHHH this one is SPICY lol. Bucky is one cocky son of a gun. So this one is about vampire Bucky, and for the betterment of the town, him and the reader make a pact that he would feed off of her to avoid suspicion. Except for he would only feed on her wrist because anything else is too intimate. Well that went out the drain real fast. This one was honestly kind of just straight smut lol, but there’s some plot in there that’s really awesome. There’s some awesome tropes, friends to lovers, cocky Bucky, vampire Bucky, SMUT. It all comes together to form a really interesting really well done story. I really liked it

In the Dark by @waiting4inspiration ***

Oh man, so this one is really interesting too. So this one is about vampire Bucky and werewolf reader, and the reader is an arranged marriage with werewolf Steve. There is a sort of creature war between vampires and werewolves, and that leads to a bunch of problems. But surprise surprise, the reader falls in love with her sworn enemy. And that’s awesome, I love those tropes. I think it’s Really incredible just how well she balances the two worlds, it’s way better than twilight I’ll tell you that right now LOL. But I just really love the dynamic between everybody, there’s angst, there’s fluff, there’s never a time when you’re bored. It’s just left and write something that either leaves you on your toes you’re feeling everything at once. It’s really great. It’s not finished yet but what it’s there is amazing.

Special: For Heavens Sake by @221bshrlocked ***

wow OK, talk about unique. So this one is a vampire reader story, but it was so cool I have to include it. So obviously it’s vampire story obviously, but it also an ABO story, like whaaaaat. So ABO is admittedly the main aspect of a story, but I just thought it was absolutely incredible how well they combined the two tropes. I loved how oh much fuck he was actively trying to be with her, I really love the dynamic between them. I really loved how raw and genuine emotions are, I can’t imagine how scared them both must have been during certain parts of the story, I’m not gonna spoil it but there were definitely some parts where I was on the edge of my seat wondering what was gonna happen because it was so interesting. There was so much happening in the story and it was just awesome.

Thank you all for reading, again, sorry its so short. and sorry it took so long lol. I appreciate you all. :)

#vampire!bucky #vampire!bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky x reader #bucky fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barns imagine #ficrecs #fic recs #searchingforbucky

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okaybutlikeimagine · 4 years

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really weird hc but i think steve never cries, like it’s not that he doesn’t want to he just can’t??? he’s filled with emotions and he knows he technically should be crying but he just can’t. But billy on the other hand, if you asked him he’d deny it but he cries all. the. time. when he’s angry. when he’s sad. when he’s stressed. when he’s happy and laughing. he just can’t control it.

This is such an interesting headcanon and I DEFINITELY agree!!!! I think it makes perfect sense!!

Bc the way I think about it, Steve’s life has been a lot more performative than Billy’s has, if that makes any sense? Like, I think of Steve’s parents and I think of the kind of terrible people who had a kid just to 1. Pass down the name and 2. Say they have the “perfect family”. Like, they toted Steve out for parties just like Daisy does in Great Gatsby and then they’d hand him off to the sitter or the nanny or the maid or whatever. They didn’t actually want to raise a kid and understand that kid as a person, they wanted a trophy to say: “See this? This proves our relationship is strong and our marriage was worth it.”

And then, in the background, before Steve would be dragged off to whatever private function he was being forced and dressed to attend, his mom would grab him harshly and tightly around his little shoulders and kneel down to look him right in the eye and say: “You behave yourself, understand? There are going to be very important clients there and if you bother us while we’re working, you’re going to be grounded for a whole week. No, two. No toys, TV, nothing. You hear me?” And just imagine a little Steve, about age 5, blinking owlishly at his mom and nodding his head bc of course he can hear her, she’s right in his face, but the only thing he knows about “clients” is that they make his parents yell at each other and that they’re the reason his parents never read him bedtime stories or tuck him in at night

And I really don’t know a whole lot about like… the lives of the rich and famous, but I just can’t help but imagine Steve’s parents going to parties with the other “elite” in the area. And I use the term “elite” loosely bc i mean… let’s face it…. They still live in Hawkins. They’re definitely rich but it’s not like they’re rubbing elbows with high society over here. They’re the kind of rich, snobby, stuck up people who think they’re better than the people they share a community with. It’s the reason they’re not home very often: they hate being reminded about the fact that they haven’t moved out of Hawkins.

So they go to lots of rich, stuck up parties. And they hold Steve up like a trophy to their friends about how they have a kid already and “where’s yours, Patricia? Oh, don’t have one yet? Are things alright with you and Greg? Oh, just wondering, because if you don’t have a kid yet, well…. Maybe something’s wrong at home…”

and so Steve, with fresh threats swimming in his mind, stands there and smiles and takes all the cheek pinches and head pats even though he’s only a child and is about to fall asleep on his feet because they’ve been walking around meeting people for hours and the other kids won’t play with him because they think he’s “boring” or “stupid” or “poor” (which doesn’t make sense to him bc he’s the richest kid in his preschool as far as he’s aware. He figures the preschools must be different here.) so he puts on a mask even for the other kids. He pretends he doesn’t like playing in the mud or collecting bugs or making jokes about boogers. He puts aside acting like a kid to act like these kids just so he can play with them. Sometimes it works.

And so I think he learned not to cry at a very young age. Honestly, i dunno if you’ve heard about it, but I’m channeling The Who’s Tommy over here. Like, the whole “kid is threatened not to speak about this thing, that he didn’t see this thing, and that he didn’t hear this thing and thus goes deaf, blind, and mute”. And obviously a little less dramatic than that, but Steve’s always been told not to cry. When he would cry he’d get punished. It’s like a weird Pavlovian effect. Ever since he was a kid he was asked to put on a show for everyone, told not to pout or whine or cry, and now he just…. Can’t. He almost fears it. He hears his parents threats, even now at the age of 18, and smiles and laughs rather than cries. And sometimes he cries… that night that Nancy called him bullshit and told him she didn’t love him he went home and ripped a blanket she had (apparently lovelessly) gifted him and broke his lamp and accidentally sliced his foot on the glass of the lightbulb…. and cried and… and it felt like failure. It was only a couple of tears, hot and angry and rolling slowly down his face and he let his throat catch fire as he held everything else back. He was angry with himself at that point, more than anything. He looked himself in the mirror and heard his father’s words of “A Harrington never cries. Are you a true Harrington?” and sucked it all back in and did whatever he could to take his mind off of it, even though everything he did always ended with him fuming about the words over and over again and caused him to end up punching pillows and angrily drinking all the beer out of the fridge.

But Billy’s different.

Billy is a volcano. A volcano of every single emotion you can think of. He experiences them all violently and viciously and they take over his system until his body physically can’t hold back from crying. We SEE him cry multiple times in the show!!! And i like to think it’s bc rather than be toted around, he’s been locked in. where Steve’s parents drag Steve around to different social functions, Neil locks Billy up so he- and no one else -has to look at him. Steve is forced to be around others and put on a mask and Billy is forced to be alone, with just himself and his thoughts. He doesn’t need to mask himself when he’s alone.

And that’s not to say that Billy doesn’t also put on a show for others- because he most definitely does. I think a lot of what he does is performative bc he feels he needs to and his thought process for it lines up with Steve’s for himself: he’s just not good enough. He wasn’t good enough for his mom to stay, he wasn’t good enough for his dad to love in his mother’s absence, he wasn’t and isn’t good enough for anything. So he puts on a show of this big tough guy and he manipulates people and he calls it entertainment.

And this isn’t to say that he didn’t get yelled at for crying, either! Bc he definitely did. He’s gotten hit a few times for tears in his eyes but it was always followed with being locked in his room and being told that he was “embarrassing to watch”... and in the four walls of his room he cried more. Bc growing up, the one thing he found relief in was being sent to his room or even having his room in the first place: it gave him a space to be alone and let his emotions out. And he never tried to, his body always just did it for him. Bc crying is often a very visceral thing, and also a very natural and very human thing. It releases chemicals in your body to help soothe you and lord KNOWS Billy needs to soothe himself bc once his mom left, no one did it for him. His body realizes the emotions that aren’t being sorted and his mind knows when it’s safe (when he’s alone, when Neil’s turned and walking away, when no one can hear) and it cries. I just imagine Billy on constant vibrate, brimming with emotions and filled to the edge with too many things with everything with all of it and he just cries because there’s so few outlets for him. His body has grown accustomed to taking care of itself in that way. And so when he’s had too much (and the threshold on some days if very small), he rushes to his room and slams the door and as soon as it’s latched he’s near drowning in tears bc he needs release.

And let me tell you- it freaks the fuck out of Steve.

Because like you said, Steve just doesn’t cry. And the first time Billy and Steve have sex, Billy cries as he orgasms and Steve freaks. out. He thinks he did something wrong and he’s fretting over Billy and his heart is racing and he’s fighting with himself about if he should hold Billy’s face or step about 5 feet away from him because holy shit what happened??

And Billy feels like an idiot but there’s no stopping his body because he’s so overwhelmed by feeling so good and it’s been a long time coming for him and Steve and after all of that anger and animosity between each other, it was just too much and he cries. And he punches Steve while he’s crying, trying his best to growl but hiccuping around the words instead as he says: “Don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m so sorry Billy, holy shit! What do I do?!”

“Go get me a tissue, you dumbass!”

And he’s sniffling and blows his nose loud and Steve is in awe that Billy is still such a hardass even with tears running down his eyes.

And this happens a LOT. Every time Billy and Steve have sex, Billy tears up after he orgasms. It’s not always full on waterworks like the first time, but his eyes always water as he lays there with Steve, body lit up and hot like a fucking campfire, and he lays there and breathes and a tear rolls down his cheek and Steve has gotten so used to it that he leans over Billy and kisses the tear right at his cheekbone and whispers how beautiful he is. (and that usually makes Billy tear up even more, to which he shoves Steve with whatever strength he has left and tells him to shut his mouth)

The first time they tell each other “I love you” it’s the same thing. Billy whispers “I love you, too” and there go his tears. His chest heaves and he cries into Steve’s collarbone, gripping Steve’s shirt and Steve just kind of chuckles a bit and rubs Billy’s back and maybe cracks a joke about how he’s “such a sap” and Billy tilts his head so he can bite at Steve’s shoulder and make the boy yelp.

And the first time Billy catches Steve about to cry, he sees that the boy is about to run away. Bc he’s taken notice to the fact that Steve doesn’t cry and he hasn’t brought it up more than twice bc Steve is obviously anxious when he talks about it but Billy gets worried for him bc Steve always acts like he’s okay and Billy knows that’s not good. So when he catches Steve’s eyes watering and then Steve turning to lock himself away somewhere, he grabs the boy in the most forceful hug he can manage so that he can’t squirm away and hide himself and he says: “Don’t run away from me. Are you gonna cry?”

“Billy-”

“Then do it. You’re not a robot.”

“Billy stop I-”

“You’re human, you fucking dumbass.”

“Don’t call me-”

“It’s okay.”

And that makes Steve’s chest heave. He sucks so much air in he squeaks and his chest pushes against Billy’s own and Billy grabs tighter and nuzzles his head into Steve’s neck and whispers.

“You’re safe, Pretty Boy.”

And he stands there and he lets Steve cry. Lets himself be whatever physical and mental support Steve needs as he finally, finally let’s his body take over and just cries.

#ask #anonymous #billy hargrove #steve harrington #angst #hurt #comfort #harringrove #sorry this is a little off/weird #I'M feeling a little off/weird #i've been in a really bad headspace recently #but i really wanted to write something and i wrote this really quickly and.... yeah #♥#sorry this took a billion years to answer #i swear i'm gonna get to all my asks guys #eventually #there are a lot of things going on and they're giving me nervous breakdowns

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pomegranates-and-blood · 3 years

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for the 🌟directors commentary🌟 prompt, this line from galla in chapter 34 of nostalgia has been bouncing around in my head: “You are free here, freer than...than you have been in a long time, I think. I don’t know the King, but I’ve heard how his wife seems sent by the Gods, both for his sake and his home’s...”

it gets touched on briefly a couple of times in the story, but if you’ve thought about it, what DO the ppl of kattegat think of their foreign queen? great work on the last chapter!!

Hi sweetheart! That is such a fantastic question, thank you!

So, in that conversation the Reader is not-so-indirectly asking Galla how much she knows of her situation in Kattegat and her everything with Ivar, right? Galla’s ‘you are free here’ is a ‘I know he doesn’t keep you a prisoner, I know you are a free woman here’, whereas her ‘freer than...than you have been in a long time, I think’ is Galla affirming what the Reader tells Ivar in Chapter 25, that she is herelf with him like she has been with no other, not since she left the Roads to return to Greece. Galla, less than Sieghild but still more than anyone else, is aware of the Reader’s struggles when it came not only to the whole deal with Narses, but to being bound to her mother’s (Danae) legacy and being made Hiereia. In Kattegat she is free of those binds, of that legacy, while also being free of the more literal chains of a) the empire and their crackdown on hellenism and b) Narses and the betrothal.

The second part of Galla’s dialogue that you quoted is for the same purpose, Galla explaining how much she knows of the situation in Kattegat, though by the mean she knows, which is secrets and rumors. Ivar’s marriage to the Reader proves very beneficial even past the personal elements, since he is marrying a woman that (in great measure because of her ‘strange’ or ‘foreign’ ways, but also because of who she is and what titles she carries, amongst them yes, witch) so many people want, it gives him a prestige of sorts. Ivar lives by the public sphere, he is very performative in his actions and a lot of what he does is both a consequence of public opinion while also being caused more directly by it. That was a messy way to word it, but what I mean is: how Ivar is percieved by others (or how he thinks he is percieved by others) dictates how he acts and the things he does, both in persuit of any goal (being recognized as the better amongst his brothers, for example) and because he is cornered (or feels like it) by that public opinion (his Chapter 27ish ‘I’d rather have them fear me’ when he expresses his fear that the people of Kattegat will never see anything other than less of a man in him, as an example). This is a lot of words to say this: Ivar marrying someone, especially marrying someone that is desired by others, and someone with the traits of the Reader, gives him a pride that he didn’t have before. He goes peacock mode, basically. But yeah, in his own way he is reassured by that public display of having a wife, and a wife that is a mighty woman on her own right. So, a prouder Ivar, a more confident one, is a more chill one; which proves great for the people of Kattegat. Minus a couple of nightly razings through the docks to find a couple of merchants he desperately wants dead, he is more chill. So, for his sake, because this bastard got himself one hell of a wife, and for the sake of his home, because the people benefit from that marriage and its effect on their king, she seems sent by the Gods; that is the word around the area, which is how Galla percieves things: through rumors and people.

As to what exactly the people of Kattegat think of her? As to not bother people with a wall of text on their dashboards, Imma answer under the cut :)

Thank you so much for asking, this was very fun!

Come ask me some insight about my works!

So, at the beginning they knew nothing of her, not even her name (which, when your name is what carries your fame, finding out about this nameless woman who is somehow a queen of a land they cannot even imagine and known for it, famous for it, fucks with their minds a bit); so they are, understandably, fucking terrified. Because she arrives in Kattegat at the side of their king, who just casually goes about announcing he will marry her...what, a month later? Nutty, especially when people were already whispering of how she had bewitched Ivar, since he had stopped a battle in her name (he technically didn’t, but gossip gonna gossip, you know?). So, she is either a) really a witch, and a powerful one at that, since she can bewitch a son of Ragnar, Ivar the fucking Boneless, or b) enough of a woman that Ivar, a clear-minded Ivar, bends over backwards for, which is also terrifying, maybe even moreso than the alternative.

So, they don’t like her at the beginning. She is foreign, and strange, and very cold while at the same time having no issue making a scene defying Ivar in the apothecary (Chapter 11), and she is whispered to be a witch, that she has bewitched the most ruthless man they know; and she is going to be made queen, the most powerful woman in Kattegat. Understandably, they are apprehensive, if not fearful, and they do not like her.

With time she starts to grow on the general people, she is close to the regular folk by being a healer with the others (and, even though she is an arrogant little shit when she repeats it, she is one of the best, if not the best, healer in Kattegat; which means she directly improves quality/life over there in that regard), and in between healing broken bones, treating fevers and colds, and assisting a few births; she is more a human woman than this distant whatever that they might have seen her as before. She has a name, she has people close to her, she has quirks and depth, she is no longer a witch to be feared.

And like I said above, she has an influence on Ivar that I think the people of Kattegat would be (for the most part) happy with. She keeps him preoccupied, like Hvitserk says in Chapter 16, and that is good news to the people, y’know? This one doesn’t make him believe he is a god at least, they can just live their lives without too many dramatic breaks in their daily routines lol. But yeah, and especially after winter her effect on Ivar is apparent, since the Ivar of þrá, or the Ivar Freydis speaks of in Alatheia, is one that craves/loves battle and war, and spring means war to them since they can set sail and do their thing, but winter means staying home, staying home where he is reminded of what he is lacking and, like Freydis says, is a beast in a cage for four/six months of the year. So, now he’s not as much of a bastard during the colder months. He still is (a bastard), the Reader is no saint and against what Alatheia!Fraydis might believe not a goddess either, so yeah, even she has limitations lol; but yeah.

She doesn’t truly step into being queen until winter, since, like she reluctantly thanks him for in Chapter 22, Ivar does keep things from changing much once they are married, both for her and their people; but yeah, past an apprehension that will never truly go away, the people of Kattegat can (and have) come to accept and love this foreign queen of theirs.

Hope this was understandable, and that the answer satisfied you! Thank you so much for such a wonderful ask! And I’m very happy to hear you liked last chapter! Sending you my love!

#answered asks #asks and replies #νοσταλγία asks #directors cut game

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demonicintegrity · 4 years

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oKAY heres the details on that depressing Devildice human highschool au i made with a friend back around 2017/2018. Kinda a mess so bare with me. long post with themes of abuse, depression, and other nasty stuff.

- Lucifer Angelo grew up in a pretty bad place in Texas. The details werent fleshed out other than that it was a pretty ignorant place.

- The important fact of the matter is that his dad (who we never did settle on a name for lol) was a Christian preacher. Charismatic man, but an absolute shithead to Lucifer. Even with his other kids he was strict and pushed his ideals and plans onto them. Also had a temper and a loud voice.

- Preacher Angelo was once a pretty alright man, although very self-centered and was pretty condensing. He had a marriage early on in his life and had a few kids, named after archangels. Marriage fell through, and he starts drinking and moves on the next one a bit after. Have a couple more sons named after archangels. It also falls apart. On number 3? he has the final sons to complete his arch angel themed kids. At first it was just in honor/inspired by the angels and his Christian lifestyle, tho i think around the second marriage is where he just started getting delusional and started thinking himself as godlike and thought his sons will spread his word and whatever. Needlessly to say, his partners once they found this out went :/ and it went downhill from there.

- Man we really just took every flaw and worse thing to have in a parent and shoved it into this bastard lmao

- Lucifer was actually the product of an affair within his final marriage. Ofc cheating was a dealbreaker and they divorced. The girl he was cheating with stuck around a little bit, but died in childbirth due to complications. Thus he was left with this child that wAs BoRn FrOm SiN so he named him Lucifer. He would be his son of sin while his other sons would be Perfect People. (Even though they and their mothers started to want nothing to do with him lmao)

- He got by and took care of Lucifer decently but because this was an AU of Angst(TM) Preacher Dickhead became an alcoholic, had money troubles over time because economy troubles or whatever, and took out his temper on his son more and more. Luci was taken to church every Sunday by his dad.

- Kingsley Dyce was born in Lousiana to his parents Patrick and Fahri. We had a whole separate story for Fahri’s family and how they met, it was cute but that’s completely irrelevant right now. They lived modestly and were technically stable but there wasn’t always extra money for fun stuff and there were times were they were just getting by, but they never let Kingsley onto it.

- Kingsley (nicknamed King or KD by his friends) was a pretty cool kid. Had fun in Louisiana despite being a bit flamboyant and full of himself, made good friends. His relationship with his parents were fairly okay. He was a total mama’s boy, loves his mother to death and would do anything for her. As he became a teen his relationship with his father got a bit more strained because Patrick was a very Traditional person and into his teenage hood Kingsley had a habit of dancing not-so-masculine or modestly. He also was getting into makeup.

- Stepping back tho, as a kid he was in the church choir. His family is Catholic and his parents took him to church every Sunday. His favorite activity was to rollerskate. He and his friends were always skating to each other’s houses or skating at the rink. Skating, video games, and singing was his life.

- During his 6/7th grade his family moved to Maryland because of a job opportunity. King was suuuupper bummed. Maryland isn’t like Louisiana at all so there was an adjustment curve. Despite that, he didn’t have a hard time make friends. (insert humanized casino crew here)

- Side note: KD had a tooth gap as a kid and got braces during middle school to correct it. It gave him a lisp. He also had glasses and a questionable sense of fashion throughout middle school. This isn’t super relevant but its important to me that you can imagine this kid as the doofus he was. He also was roughly at an average height.

- In 8th grade there was a new kid that came into his class; Lucifer. Luci’s dad had also moved to Maryland for a job. Despite his entire class wondering what the hell was this southern emo kid’s problem, he wasn’t overtly bullied, just ignored. KD however, was intrigued by this asshole and made it his goal to figure out his issue and be all up in his business.

- Luci is currently dealing with some of his hardest years here. In Texas he had a hard time making friends, was bullied, and wasnt surrounded by the best sort of people. His abuse was getting worse as his father struggled more and more, and the move wasn’t the greatest fix considering he was still drinking and getting himself into debt. Luci didn’t care about school nor about life in general. But then this asshole waltz into his life and boy golly was he feeling things about it.

- The relationship at first just KD latching onto Luci and talking to him about any and everything and trying to drag him around town. Slowly, Lucifer began to be amused by this jerk and his friends. He also didn’t live too far away so KD was able to easily bike to his place even though he never wanted KD over.

- KD picked up on the abuse Luci was going through, and honestly didn’t know to confront it. At first it was just sharing food cuz Luci wouldn’t eat and chatting to him because he got uncomfortable seeing Luci alone with head down all the time. Eventually he talked to his mom about it and the two of them kept inviting Luci over. Fahri became the mom Luci never had and Patrick despite working long hours and extra shifts, would take time to give Luci practical lessons and be a better masculine figure in his life. Luci was slowly being given a family but he also was pulling away from it. He was in the midst of a depression and he was pretty mean to everyone to deal with it, and pulled to himself more as he began to love KD and his family. The new friendships doesn’t cure depression, nor was it helpful against abuse.

- TW under break for more details of abuse, neglect, depression, and suicide

- His abuse was verbal and physical. He got yelled at for being a failure, yelled at because he didnt care about school, drunk his fathers booze, got into trouble and lashed out. He got beat for back talking and whenever the drunk asshole wanted to fight with him. It had been going on for years. He was also neglected pretty bad. Food wasn’t super plentiful in the house, he lived on fast food and luci didnt know how to cook. There was more booze in fridge than food. Power/water would sometimes not be on if his father forgot about certain bills. It was bad.

- Some time during this 8th grade year he also developed a crush on KD, he didnt voice it because his dad was homophobic as shit but also because he certainly didnt know how to navigate love and didnt want to ruin his relationship with KD. So he repressed it.

- Also during this 8th grade year Luci tried to commit suicide. He had texted KD before hand too, with some note that boiled down to he cared a lot about KD but couldnt stand anything in the world/his dad/bringing KD down/whatever and it was obviously a suicide note. KD freaked out and immediately got his ass over there, kicked down the door, and found Luci in his dad’s room with his dad’s gun to his head. I don’t think we ever settled on the details of the situation but it was traumatizing for both individuals to say the least. KD was able to talk him out of it.

- That incident made them inseparable. Luci never had someone care for him like that, cry for him like that. KD had grown attached and close enough to consider him his best friends, the incident only solidify his want to make his best friend’s life better. It was a rough few months after that and KD was sworn to never tell his parents what happened.

- TBH that was about the worse of it, this was an high school AU and high school became a bit better for them in certain regards. KD got his braces off, got contacts, and had one helluva growth spurt going into HS. Luci went deep into a punk-emo phase his freshman year which killed his fashion, but was slowly becoming a bit more confident in himself. KD and his parents were able to help him a lot. Emotional support, practical life lessons, and food was always a given.

- Its a bit of an up and down throughout high school. KD gets into makeup, heels, dancing, and bisexuality and it causes a major strife with him and his dad who wanted a “real” son. The relationship went through major struggles and would take a couple years to really heal.

- Luci struggles a bit with drinking and deals drugs and booze to get his own spending money. He starts somewhat taking his school seriously, but even though he does work in class he doesnt always do homework or projects and whatnot. He has a habit of physically intimidating other students and occasionally tries to pick fights.

- The “casino gang” also have their own things going on. If a recall correctly, Wheezy was also in a neglectful house, Pip and Dot ( ??? and Dorothy) were twins from a wealthy well off family but were ignored and were terribly bratty, Piroeutta was just an quiet Russian outcast, Mango had 7 siblings and no space to himself and who was bullied for his large off-putting appearance, Chips was just loud, and i completely forgot what everyone else’s deal was. KD and Luci mainly hung out with Chips, Piro, Pip, and Dot. They were still pretty close to the others but those four were the only ones they regularly hung out with at lunch and outside of school.

- There are a couple things that could happen throughout high school. My personal fav i can remember is a particular angst with KD trying to get with another dude and Luci being Upset and lashing out at him at a party result and ugh that scenario was angsty but also turned very cute???

- Regardless, when they do get together they’re unstoppable tbh.

- and yes, the gang would readily throw hands with anyone who said shit. Barely any of them care about suspensions.

- I kinda forget a bit of stuff. I know misc. scenarios here and there both fluffy and angsty, but this post is already long enough lmao so feel free to hit up my ask box with any questions/comments. I dont really think Ill come back to this au?? If i do Im gonna edit a ton of stuff because looking back certain themes and scenarios seem borderline insensitive and/or poorly thought out. I did found a fic of this au on my phone with KD and Luci as adults tho and Im v tempted to rewrite some of it and finish it because it was good.

#long post #tw abuse #tw physical abuse #tw verbal abuse #tw suicide #suicide mention #cuphead dont deal with the devil #ch devil #King dice #devildice #snakeeyes

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