#and that your brother who despite killing your father is the only familiar person now in your life that you know how they work and behave

[greencloakedfae]

How do we feel about the idea that Sofia hunts Nell down so intensly could be in part due to jealousy?

Its very clear that Sofia is very obsessive about hunting down Nell to frame her for Lord Blancheford's murder. Like she doesn't really need to do all of that. She has the benefit of it being her word against theirs, and the social status to back it up, and they quite easily hold the appearance of grieving children seeking out justice for their father through hired bounty hunters and a 40 pound reward on Nell's head. And like, there is something to be said for the fear that Nell may eventually get someone of importance on her side, and as such getting rid of her permanently is in their best interest. However, I think it would add an interesting layer to the whole dynamic to explore Sofia being jealous of Nell.

Because Nell and Sofia are very clearly two characters that are supposed to be similar yet on complete opposite sides. Their connection to magic, their values of protecting their siblings, and their want to have control over their own situations are just some to name a few.

Yet, Nell is able to escape Tottenham through marrying Captain Jackson, and then continues to keep a hold on her freedom through the way she dresses and presents herself, as well as with the support of her family. She even gets offered tenancy of the Talbot. It's not without consequences obviously, we see it all throughout the show, but she still has a lot more freedom than you'd expect for a woman of that time. Sofia however is still trapped. Her whole life is dictated for her thanks to her high status, and when her father dies, she only just gets a taste of some semblance of power over her own situation through running the estate (though this would be on the down-low and probably with credit attributed to Thomas) and learning magic offered by Poynton. And even then, she's still disregarded and disrespected by the men around her.

It wouldn't surprise me if a large motivation in hunting down Nell for Sofia is the satisfaction of stripping Nell of her freedom. This woman, who is so similar to her yet just because of the family she is born into, gets to have what Sofia can't. And in a 'If I can't have it, neither can you' type of way, I think Sofia would take that and internalise it until it becomes all consuming. Probably convincing herself that once Nell has been stripped of her freedom, she will finally get her own.

[moonstruck-poet]

A Thousand Years

Pairing - Elijah Mikaelson x reader!

Summary - A depiction of your relationship with Elijah throughout the centuries based on the song 'A Thousand Years'

Warnings - blood, fight, pain

Heart, beats, fast. Colours. And promises. How to be brave? How can I love when I'm afraid to fall, but watching you stand alone. All of my doubt, suddenly goes away somehow. One step closer.

Elijah Mikaelson stood in front of the floor length mirror, adjusting his newest tunic for the hundredth time. He gave himself a once over, his gaze critical as he searched for flaws in his appearance.

Once he was indeed sure that he looked fine, he sighed deeply. His heart was hammering uncontrollably against his ribcage since the early hours of the morning. He dismissed it off as just nerves, but he knew better.

It was the familiar fear that gripped his insides like a vice, not planning on letting go so soon. He felt the imaginary fingers squeezing his heart, the touch full of dread and coldness. He had experienced this feeling a handful of times in his rather small lifetime of 25 years. Even being a vampire, one of the deadliest creatures couldn't help him from himself.

The door to his room was suddenly pushed open, pulling him out of his thoughts. His brother, Niklaus entered, dressed in his finest clothing as he approached his elder with a small smile.

"Are you ready brother?"

Elijah could only shake his head as the grip seemed to tighten around his throat now. Klaus furrowed his eyebrows, walking closer as he analysed Elijah, deducing that he was afraid.

"I can see the fear in your eyes, Elijah. What is it? God forbid that you are having second thoughts about this marriage?"

"Certainly not, Niklaus," he immediately shot his brother down. "I cannot think of pledging myself to another but her. I have wanted this for as long as I can remember".

"Then why is it that you have this trepidation written all over your face?"

"I...." He began, before huffing and sitting down on the bed. His hands gripped the sheets, turning his knuckles white. "I think I am falling in love. Or have fallen for quite a while. This overwhelming feeling that I sense every time I lay eyes on her, I did not want to give it a name. I thought it was merely some adoration, that it was just because I was a youngster. But I have realised rather late that this- it is much deeper".

"I do not see a problem," his dear sister spoke, having heard their conversation. "Love is the most beautiful thing ever, brother. As is friendship. You are quite lucky to have found both within the same person".

"I know that," he muttered and stood up, brushing a hand through his long hair and glancing again at his reflection. How was he supposed to explain it to them? That every single time when he had opened his heart, had felt love, something worse was quick to follow. He saw it numerous times with his own family. Elijah loved them fiercely and look what happened to Henrik. Klaus who was almost killed by their own father when he had tried to protect the younger and in turn was left with nothing but blood on his hands.

He had despite himself allowed you near, engaging with you because he couldn't bring himself to resist. He was drawn, more than a moth to a flame. He found himself always wanting to be around you, longing for your attention when you were present and wishing for your presence every second.

He then found the courage to confess his feelings, being pleasantly surprised when you responded with a gentle, fleeting kiss on his lips. He began courting you, having a wonderful experience with every passing day.

Sure enough you had brought down his well built, yet fragile walls. Providing him with everything he had ever wanted. Friendship, loyalty, love.. and now family. The one thing he had yearned for the most.

And he was scared.

"Earth to Elijah," Rebekah grabbed his arm and offered him an excited smile. She had been ecstatic when he announced it to his family. Always having thought of you as a sister, she was delighted to know that you would actually be family.

"It is time," Klaus spoke, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder and clasping it. As the best man, he couldn't afford any mishaps now could he.

"They are waiting for you, big brother," the youngest, Kol popped his head in, his lips holding a big grin. He was probably the most eager to welcome you, being rather fond of you.

"Or should I say, she is waiting," Finn added, a rare smile adorning his face as he crossed his arms.

A faint blush rose on Elijah's cheeks, something that was immediately noticed by his siblings who wasted no time in teasing their usually collected brother become flustered.

As he stood at the altar, his patience began running thin. All he wanted was to see you, hold your hand and kiss you. And the gods answered his prayers. For the next second you came into view, a gorgeous dress brushing the ground as you walked towards him. His breath stopped, time slowed and everything fell silent.

All he could see was you walking towards him. The small gathering of people faded into nothingness as he watched the love of his life. He had seen you for so many years, but nothing could have prepared him for this moment.

And unknowingly his eyes began to water making him swallow. He couldn't remember the last time that he had been on the verge of crying so quickly. He could feel his chest swell, and it took him a second to notice that the earlier unwelcomed torment had given way to utter adoration.

And once you were standing right in front of him, with your father giving your hand for him to hold, he held it with the utmost gentleness. He had always been soft around you, showing a side that was barely visible. But right now, the way he looked at you, held you, it felt special in some way.

"Hey there," you whispered and shot him a cheeky smirk making him chuckle through his emotions.

"Hello love," he replied, unable to conceal the warmth emitting from his eyes when he saw you grinning like a fool.

"Do you, Elijah Mikaelson take her to be your wife? Do you promise to cherish her always, to honor and sustain her. In sickness and in health, in poverty and in wealth, and to be true to all things until death alone shall part you?"

"I do," he answered without missing a beat, a lone tear trailing down his cheek when he heard you repeat the words.

You tilted your head slightly, raising your palm to wipe his tears. His lips twitched as he placed his hand above yours, turning it so he could press a kiss on the inside.

"I therefore pronounce you as husband and wife," the priest spoke, thus ending the ceremony.

Elijah's arm went to your waist, pulling you closer until your chests brushed, millimetres of distance between your lips as he cupped your face. His eyes scanned every inch of you, engraving this memory forever in his mind. He leaned ahead, slowly, patiently before kissing you with every ounce of passion. His fingers dug softly into your waist as he savoured the fact that you were indeed his wife. That you had officially been bonded for eternity.

The panic that had seized control of him was nowhere to be seen, as though it had dissolved into thin air at the mere sight of you. Another thought struck him when he pulled away, slightly breathless and barely registering the cheers that went around. It was that the affection he held for you outweighed all of his negative emotions. You made him a better man by simply being there.

And the words rolled off of his lips so easily, that even he was dumbstruck. It felt like second nature to say them out loud.

"I love you," he whispered, resting his forehead against yours and closing his eyes. Neither of you had ever said it until now, those three words bearing a much profound meaning for both. And so you had waited too, wanting to be absolutely sure that there was nothing more that you wanted, no one else you would rather have.

When he opened his eyes, he seemed to melt on seeing the awed look on your face. It was graced with so much fondness, all for him.

"I love you too. Always and forever".

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

I have died every day waiting for you. Darling don't be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years. I'll love you for a thousand more.

"No," Elijah refused immediately, his voice firm and you knew it would be difficult to reason.

"Love- listen to me-"

"No!" He exclaimed and whipped around to face you, his expression incredulous. "How can I be fine with my own wife being daggered and placed in a miserable coffin right in front of my very eyes?"

"There is no alternative, Elijah," you said, walking closer but he shook his head stubbornly, taking steps back.

"There's always an alternative and you know it. I'll protect you!" He added with a desperate look, making your heart clench. "I swear upon my life".

You sped over to him, placing your palms on his cheeks and he melted underneath your touch. "I know, and that's exactly what I'm worried about".

"We can find another way," his eyes were frantic, darting left and right as he sought a solution. "I'll slaughter them myself," he growled, anger slowly rising in his chest. The witches, those barbarians were the reason that your life was currently threatened. It wasn't as though he hadn't fought their kind before, but this time it was different. The rational part of his brain knew they could not win, and thus daggering you and spreading the rumour of your death was the only solution.

Of course they wouldn't believe it so easily. An original vampire dying out of the blue? It couldn't be possible. But at least it could delay them for a while so they could actually come up with a feasible strategy. That's what Klaus had said.

"You will do no such thing," you said, your voice as firm as him and he scoffed, stepping away to stand in front of the window, his dark eyes penetrating the dark. His mind running at a million miles per second.

You sighed at the Mikaelson stubbornness, something that resided in you too. You stared at his back, contemplating on how to make him see sense. You weren't foolish, you knew that he understood it was their best option. But his heart couldn't bring himself to do it. And how could he? How could he possibly just stand there and watch you be daggered and spend a good few time mourning you too? You were his wife.

You slowly walked towards your husband, your arms wrapping themselves around his waist while you rested your chin on his shoulder. His rigid body relaxed immediately, leaning back into you and covering your hands with his own. The soft material of his blazer brushed against your face as you tilted your head to kiss his jawline, hearing him exhale.

You didn't say anything, he simply understood because his posture stooped a little. His head bowed down while you looked at him, smiling a little on seeing his familiar features that were practically engraved in your memory. A small mark on his forehead, down to his dark eyes decorated by delicate lashes, then to the small mole he had on his left cheek. Your eyes trailed off more, scanning the curve of his nose, to the stubble he had on upon your insistence and down to his beautiful lips.

He truly was a sight to behold.

"Forgive me," you whispered, barely audible. "I know I'm asking a lot from you".

He gently turned around in your arms, placing his own on your waist. "I'm not strong enough for this," he swallowed, his blank exterior fading to reveal the depths of the heartbreak he was feeling.

"Yes you are, my love. You are the strongest person I know and you will get through this. It will all be over in the blink of an eye, before you even know it".

His face only contorted in pain as he pulled you closer, burying his face in your neck. His lips brushed against your skin and he smelled your calming scent, something that had always managed to ground him.

How could he survive then? He would be driven insane, not being able to think straight without you by his side. You were his person, and he was yours. How could his heart keep on beating when it knew that its other half was lying half-dead. It had been three hundred years since your marriage, how was he supposed to live without you for god knew how long? He couldn't. But he had to. Because this was the one way he would know that you'll be safe. The witches would stop at nothing to hunt you, your unique powers had stirred their curiosity to an unimaginable extent.

"I will miss you... immeasurably".

"Oh 'lijah..." You tightened your hold and his heart contracted at the nickname. Who will call him 'lijah?

"Promise me, my heart. Swear to me that you'll come back here, right in my arms. Tell me- tell me that the next time I see you, it will be with you running towards me, your face bearing a smile," his voice cracked and he stopped himself, gulping the thorns that had surrounded his throat.

The couple held each other, bathed by the soft moonlight which poured through their bedroom window. Silent tears streamed down both of their faces as they swayed together, relishing in the tender feeling of having your other heart pressed right next to your own.

And if only they could stop time..

"Elijah," Rebekah's soft voice registered in his brain, but it sounded distant. "Hey," she tried again and crouched down in front of him, sitting on her toes, her heart shattering at the look on her brother's face.

It was impassive as he stared into nothingness, his soul felt hollow, empty. It all felt wrong. He felt wrong that he was alive. It wasn't supposed to be this way. You were not meant to attend the other's funeral. He felt so meaningless that he didn't even realise his sister was crying until he heard her sobs. Yet he remained still, a shell of a man.

It was torture.

There was no other word that could describe his condition. He woke up every day to a cold bed, without your body there to curl beside him. He barely found the strength to get up, wanting to stay sleeping the entire day.

He was destroying himself, and he knew that. His siblings could see it too and they tried their level best to help him a little each day. Sometimes it worked, and at times it backfired badly. He reminded himself every minute that you weren't actually dead, only at rest for a while. The wedding band resting on his finger felt heavy too, as though it could sense the absence of its twin.

Four months. That was how long it had been. And Elijah felt and looked like a different person. His usual impeccable attire appeared out of place, because whenever he straightened his tie, all he could see instead of his reflection was you standing before him and doing it yourself. So he gave up.

This longing.. he hadn't felt this ever before. Every inch of himself craved you, it was indescribable. His eyes that were so used to seeing your face the first thing in the morning for as long as he could remember. His lips that would always twitch up at the mere sight of you and be unable to resist your kisses. His hand feeling empty because he was so accustomed to your fingers slotting into the spaces perfectly. The heart beating inside his chest feeling alone, as it couldn't hear its partner's beats. His neck felt colder than ever, for you weren't there to bury your face in the crook and provide him with warmth. His shoulders felt uncomfortably lighter too, as the familiar head wasn't there to rest upon them.

To keep these emotions at bay he drowned himself in work, running tirelessly to think of ways to solve the problem and bring you back to him.

And as though the gods had decided that he had suffered enough already, the day finally dawned. His siblings didn't tell him, wanting to surprise him just so they could see the familiar light in his eyes that had extinguished, so they could look at the smile adorning his face.

So Rebekah had very cleverly sent him out on an errand which would take quite a long time. You were probably on the verge of waking up and they didn't want him near because he would instantly hear your heartbeat.

Like the good brother he was, Elijah had obediently followed the given instructions though they seemed quite complicated. But the complexities were good, they required his full attention. After the tedious work he went back home, opting to walk instead of speeding up. His eyes surveyed the crowd, lingering on all the couples unconsciously.

He had just entered the compound to the mansion when his ears perked up, picking on a sound that he hadn't heard in the past 6 months. His head snapped up as almost sprinted inside, looking around frantically trying to locate the source.

And there you were, standing all but a mere feet away from him and he felt his breath hitch, a swirl of emotions tumbling out of him as he staggered to a stop. His feet rooted to the ground as he took you in, looking so beautiful with that smile on your face that had him head over heels since day one. Yet he didn't move, he hesitated because there had been a lot of instances where he had imagined you, hallucinated even.

"Love?" He called out, his voice unsteady, uncertain. But it was washed away instantly when you nodded, your smile only widening as you jogged over to him. As though it was second nature his feet took long strides, rendered speechless for once as his arms opened up on their own accord to engulf you.

A disbelieving sound left him at the feeling of your skin, soft and smooth under his firm grip.

"Hey 'lijah," you spoke in his ear and the word resonated loudly until he was consumed by your voice. You were really here. Christ you were here.

And he wasted not a second more before cupping your face and smashing his lips against yours, desperation and longing clear in his actions. He couldn't get enough, wanting to make up for the lost time so badly. He kissed you furiously, deep affection lacing his caress that had your heart growing with the amount of love.

He pulled away rather reluctantly, his eyes hungrily searching for yours. Moving over every detail of your face that he so loved. A small laugh was heard as he embraced you once again, closing his eyes tightly and holding you even tighter.

"Liked the surprise, brother?" Kol asked and you looked above Elijah's shoulders to see the siblings walk over, their faces resembling similar emotions.

The man in question didn't reply, only turning his head slightly to press a kiss under your jaw.

"Come on now stop hogging her! I missed my sister too you know?" The youngest spoke and this time Elijah did pull away, surprised to find his cheeks wet.

Kol hurried over to take his place, hugging you close. He had missed you immensely, as had Klaus and Rebekah who followed his lead.

"I'm sorry love," Klaus, the last one to hug you said. It had been his idea, and he had despised himself for bringing it up every day.

"Not your fault, Nik. You saved my life," you reassured him, ruffling his hair and grinning when he didn't swat your hands away like he always did.

"Now go console my dear brother before he daggers the rest of us for keeping you away once again".

You chuckled and looked at your husband who rolled his eyes at the comment, "I will gladly take on the offer, Niklaus. Now if you'll please give me my wife back. Now".

Klaus all but pushed you in his arms and he snakes an arm around your waist before speeding up to your room.

"I see someone has missed me," you said playfully, running your fingers through his hair and smiling on seeing him close his eyes.

"You have absolutely no idea just how much".

"I thought maybe you had found someone new, you know someone in place of me," you said matter of factly but he could hear the obvious humour underlying the statement.

"Found someone new?" He raised an amused eyebrow and leaned closer, your noses brushing. "You were my first love, darling. Always have been. There's no way in the entire universe that I'll ever feel what I felt for you with anyone else. I fell for you before I even knew what love was. It has always been you.. it will always be you".

"It will always be you too. My heart has been yours since the day we met, and I would very much like for it to be with you".

He smiled, a genuine smile that hadn't appeared on his face for a long time. The small dimple that you adored peeking out.

"I love you, Elijah Mikaelson".

"I love you too, my heart. Always and forever".

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

Time stands still, beauty and all she is. I will be brave. I will not let anything take away, what's standing in front of me. Every breath, every hour has come to this. One step closer.

These past few weeks had been a constant struggle, with trouble knocking on their doors every other day. The Mikaelsons could barely sleep, paranoid that something bad may happen at night. This was one of the disadvantages of being immortal. You made too many enemies to last a lifetime.

Amidst the chaos you and Elijah had barely had time for yourselves. Always having to go out for some work and return home late. Though you slept together, you didn't have any alone time.

Which was why this rare quiet morning, Elijah was busy staring at his wife who slept soundly beside him. Your legs tangled with him, head resting near his shoulder with him arms around your middle. He had returned home late and you were already knocked out, having had limited sleep the past days. Even in sleep, your body had found a way to snuggle up to his.

He slowly moved back a little to see your face properly, his fingers drawing random patterns on your back. He then slid his palm under your shirt, heating up your back. Your skin had always been rather cold while he was constantly warm. A perfect balance really.

He continued rubbing slow circles, not worrying about you waking up considering you were a heavy sleeper. He stilled his actions when you stirred, inhaling deeply before cuddling closer making him let out a low chuckle. He propped himself up on his elbow, his other hand pushing back the stray hair from your face. You looked utterly beautiful, he thought to himself, slightly awed.

A thought came swimming in his mind. It had been a long time since he had taken you out on a nice date. Maybe in a nice restaurant, or simply to watch movies. He couldn't remember the last time you had gone and he frowned, not liking it at all and cursing himself internally. He decided to take you for dinner, in a cozy little restaurant that you both loved. Then he'll get you the ice cream that was your favorite, you haven't had it recently either.

Forming a short plan in his mind he sat straight, stretching his neck and was about to get up when you grabbed his hand, making him turn as a result.

"Stay," you mumbled, eyes half closed. You couldn't see his face properly due to your sleep induced brain but heard his laugh as he shuffled closer again, settling under the covers.

"Morning, my love," his deep, raspy voice greeted you. He had always been the early bird whereas you were the complete opposite. A fact that he knew all too well.

You made a disgruntled sound, pressing your face against his chest and shaking your head in disagreement, "Good night. It's time to sleep".

"I have no intentions of waking you up".

"Good because I would not have hesitated to stab you otherwise. But you better consider sleeping here with me now".

"As you wish, my lady," he murmured, pulling the blanket on both of your bodies and bringing his arms back to their original place. He continued to press small kisses on your hairline, his touch soothing and your eyes fluttered close. Before you knew it, you were deep asleep making him shake his head fondly.

And as soon as his eyes shut, there was a loud yell of his name making him groan. You shifted too, slowly waking up as you had clearly heard the shout. Elijah saw you and cursed under his breath, his expression murderous as he flung the sheets off of him and stormed out of the room.

"What is wrong with you, Niklaus?" He growled, his stare burning hole in Klaus' head. But the fire quickly disappeared when his brother explained the situation. Rebekah was missing and they had a clear idea of exactly who had taken her.

Elijah clenched his jaw, fury radiating from his and you quickly rushed out, having freshened up while they had their conversation.

"When are we leaving?" You asked, rolling up your sleeves with and your face impassive.

"Now".

That was all the confirmation you needed as you sped to the car, getting in the driver seat while the two followed. You drove fast, not caring about the speed limit as the only thing running in your heads was getting Rebekah out.

And oh god it wasn't easy at all.

Finding her took such a long time and fighting off the witches who always wanted revenge on the Mikaelsons was exhausting. By the time you were done, or you thought you were it was late evening.

You snapped the neck of the last person before plunging a dagger straight through the heart, blood splattering out to paint your shirt and throat. A tired sigh left your lips and you sat down on a bench, leaning against the wall and briefly resting your eyes. Elijah and Klaus had gone the opposite way, leaving you to deal with these handful of people.

And just as you thought the threat was over, an arrow zoomed through hitting you squarely in the chest. You hissed, doubling over to quickly pull it out and making eye contact with your attacker, recognising him to Maverick, the insatiable werewolf who had allied with the witches. "You missed".

He only smirked before shooting another one for which you were prepared for and snatched the arrow before it hit you, breaking it effectively. "Missed again".

This time his jaw ticked and he narrowed his eyes before storming towards you and a fight soon ensued. Both fighting ferociously against each other. You gained the upper hand, about to place a dagger through his chest but he turned you around, wasting no time in biting your neck.

You groaned loudly, feeling the sting of the bite as your senses became cloudy. Werewolf bite was lethal to a vampire, you weren't sure whether it would have the same effect on an Original or not but you didn't want to take any chances.

You regained control and flipped him, pretending to stab him from behind but instead speeding to stand in front of him and plunging his heart out, gritting your teeth and not blinking an eye at the blood flowing out as he collapsed. You threw the organ down, delivering a good kick to his side only to let out the adrenaline pumping inside of you.

"Can't get a break for five minutes," you seethed, sudden anger coursing through your blood as you punched the wall, almost shattering it completely. Your knuckles were bruised in an instant but you paid no mind, not even feeling the pain.

"Love," your husband's voice penetrated through the anger. You turned out, your expression wild and Elijah's face drowned with concern. He has seen you covered in blood before, looking murderous but there was a different, mad glint in your eyes. "Hey it's over now," he approached cautiously, taking deliberate steps. He extended his hand, gauging your reaction before placing it on your shoulder.

Your chest expanded as you took a deep breath before letting it out and he saw your eyes go back to normal. "Oh hey," you murmured, leaning back against the wall.

His frown deepened, "Are you okay? Talk to me, what happened?" He gestured towards the man lying on the floor.

"Werewolf," was all you answered, already beginning to walk out. "Can we go home now, please?"

"Yes of course..." He trailed off before following you out. "We found Rebekah, Niklaus took her home. She is unharmed".

You nodded, appearing strangely distracted as images began playing in your brain like a movie. You ignored them, focusing on walking straight but a sharp pain shot through your head making you stumble and crouch down.

Elijah had caught you quickly, worry seeping onto his features as he looked at your face that was scrunched up in pain. You let out a shout, clutching your temple and shutting your eyes hoping for it to go away.

"What's wrong? Sweetheart please tell me, I- What's happening?" He placed you on the floor gently, kneeling next to you and holding your face in his hands, trying to get your attention.

"It hurts 'lijah," you yelled and grabbed your hair aggressively. "Make it stop... Make it stop!"

"Tell me darling," desperation was clear in his voice as he searched for a solution. "I need you to tell me what's happening so I can help you".

"My head," you whimpered and grasped his shirt, resting against him as tears flowed down your cheek. The images had turned into certain memories, making you relive every horrible moment of your life. "It feels like it's going to split open I- I wanna go home".

"I'll take you, we're going there right now yeah? I just need you to stay with me. Can you do that? Stay with me, love, keep your eyes open!" He insisted, emotion wrecking his beautiful face as he bit his wrist and brought it to your lips. "Drink, maybe this will help".

You shakily grabbed his arm to drink the blood, it felt nice and your head started clearing making hunger intensify and you kept on going for more. Elijah merely watched, trying his best to pull his hand away because you had had more than enough.

"I feel better," you smiled weakly and stood up straight with his help. "That really did he-" your legs gave out and you collapsed for the second time. Your eyes appeared distant, foggy as though you weren't mentally present.

Fear trapped Elijah's heart as he shook your shoulders and tapped your cheek, trying everything to have your attention. And that's when his eyes fell to your neck, particularly on the skin that had become bloody around the bite mark.

"No," was all he uttered before hoisting you up in his arms, his steps panicked as he sped over to your car and buckled you up in the passenger seat. He didn't like the way your head lolled to the side as though there was no life in you. He quickly got in, starting the engine and dialing Klaus' number.

"Where are you?" Was the only question he asked. "This is no time for banter, Niklaus I asked one simple question. Where. Are. You?. Good stay there and don't you step foot out of the house or I swear to do something terrible".

He ended the call and glanced at you, noticing the beads of sweat dotting your forehead as you shifted uncomfortably. He turned the conditioning to maximum but that didn't seem to help. "Hold on for me, love. We're almost there, yeah? Nothing will happen to you, not on my watch".

Faster than you had arrived, Elijah brought you back. He unbuckled the seatbelt and you climbed out. His palm resting on your head to prevent it from hitting the hood of the car.

"Klaus!" He shouted and both him and Rebekah appeared in the living room. Their faces dropping on seeing your condition as Elijah laid you down on the sofa, sweeping your sticky hair away from your face that was drenched in sweat.

"Help her," was all he could manage but Klaus understood as he bit his wrist without hesitation, supporting your head from below and placing his hand against your mouth.

"Go on, love. You'll be cured in a minute".

You barely registered his voice and did as you were told while your husband watched on with apprehension. His face was so downcast as he watched your trembling form. He hated to see you like this, so feeble, a contrast to your usual strong figure. His hands shivered by his side, feeling helpless as he watched you lie down.

"She'll be fine," Klaus addressed him and gave him a curt nod before disappearing into his room.

Rebekah was sitting beside you, holding your hand while you regained consciousness. "Take care of her, Elijah. Call if you need anything". Saying so she squeezed his shoulder and went upstairs.

"Let's get you to bed," Elijah whispered and hooked one arm under your shoulders and the other beneath your knees, easily lifting you up and cradling your body to his chest. He reached your bedroom in a second, placing your still asleep body on the bed. He stared at you for a while before removing his blazer and taking a clean cloth and a bowl of water to clean you up. He sat close to you and wiped your face first, trying to be as gentle as possible with the dried blood.

What had this day turned into.. In the morning he was thinking of taking his wife on a small date, and how here he was tending to her wounds. Life loved to mess with him.

You turned your face when he was cleaning your neck and he sensed you were waking up. Your eyes fluttered open and you saw your husband, lines of worry scarring his face.

"How're you feeling?" He questioned softly, unable to meet your eyes as he resumed dabbing at your wounds that had almost healed.

"A little dizzy, tired".

He nodded, getting up to take a blood bag from the mini fridge and handing it to you, "You must be hungry".

You obeyed and sipped in silence, not failing to notice the way his body was tense and his face hard. He also kept his gaze strictly on your arms.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing".

"Elijah".

"Darling".

"Elijah," you repeated again, taking the cloth from him and holding his hands instead. "I haven't been your wife for three hundred and twenty years for nothing, you know".

He fumbled with your fingers, not sure on how to reply. "I.. I didn't want the day to go like this. During the morning I realised that we had not had much time to ourselves lately, too caught up in other works. I wanted to take you out for dinner, a small date somewhere. Just so we could spend some time together at least. But look how that turned out," he said bitterly. "All I wanted was one quiet day with my wife, and look at you".

"Oh sweetheart," you caressed his cheek with your thumb, a smile on your lips. "Let's go then".

He raised an eyebrow which turned into disbelief once he noticed that you weren't joking. "You can barely stand on your own feet. And you want to go out on a date".

"Yes," was all you said and gingerly stood up, taking some clothes and heading towards the shower. "I'll be done in fifteen. And I'm rather famished, dear husband so you better choose a good place".

He could only chuckle and roll his eyes with extreme fondness at your antics. Leave it to you to agree for a date after being mauled.

The warm water felt like absolute heaven as you scrubbed off the dirt. You were done quick enough and decided on a sweater of Elijah's paired with regular jeans.

He was already waiting in the living room, having opted for a casual blue shirt and jeans. "You're crazy, have I ever told you that?" He laced your fingers together and started walking.

"Might've mentioned it a couple of times. Also what fun is it to always play safe. I bet you wouldn't have fancied me if I was of that type".

"I don't care, I will always fall for you".

A blush quickly creeped over your neck and you slapped his shoulder, earning a bright laugh. "I'm glad to see you haven't lost your charm yet".

The restaurant he had chosen was a cozy place. And the smell that came from it made your mouth water immediately. "Goodness I love you so much".

"Why thank you".

"I was talking about the chef," you retorted, grinning like a maniac and quickly walking inside.

He caught up to you not even a second later. And just as you had opened the door, he grabbed your waist and pulled you flat against his chest. That little smirk tugged at his lips which made your heart skip a beat while your own mouth parted. He leaned in closer, teasing you badly that he was about to kiss. But instead he changed his angle and placed a soft peck on your cheek. "We'll see about what you just said later on. Your lips won't utter a name that isn't mine, I'll make sure of it".

Now it was his turn to smile broadly as you stood shell shocked.

The dinner was a fantastic affair, obviously since your husband had impeccable taste when it came to food, clothing and of course, women. You were satisfied at the end but were surprised when he led you to a new room instead of the exit.

"Where are we goi- Oh".

It was a dancefloor, with dim lighting of candles all around the place and soft music playing on the speakers. It was also very empty.

"May I have this dance, my love?"

You almost giggled like a little school girl being asked out by her crush. But it was just how he made you feel all the time. You accepted his hand, interlocking your fingers together and placing the other on his shoulder. He danced to the rhythm, twirling you around whenever he felt like it and just making you feel as if you were the only woman in the entire world.

You laughed pleasantly when he dipped you down gracefully and pulled you closer again, his face bearing a small grin as well. It was always a treat to see him carefree like this, the only emotion on his face being pure and genuine love.

"Thank you for this," he told you when you rested your head on his shoulders and his hands followed to be placed on your waist, still leading the dance. "I know you're tired and would've preferred to sleep".

"Elijah, anywhere with you is everywhere I want to be. I wouldn't miss it because of some fatigue".

The huge twitch of his lips that followed later made you stare for a second. It wasn't always that he got this goofy smile, and that's when you knew that this night meant a lot to him. And you were so glad to have made the right decision.

"I adore you".

You only laughed, giving him a soft, languid kiss that said everything that had been left unspoken.

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

I have died everyday waiting for you. Darling don't be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years. I'll love you for a thousand more. And all along I believed I would find you. Time has brought your heart to me, I have loved you for a thousand years. I'll love you for a thousand more.

It wasn't always that you interacted with the other vampires in town, mostly because Klaus had always kept you on your toes with his plans.

But today was a rather peaceful day. Caroline had been the one to ask you if you'd like to have a girl's night with them. You had been surprised but had conveyed a yes, wanting to have a change. She had been polite to ask for Rebekah too but you laughed knowing that your dear sister wouldn't go six feet near Elena Gilbert. You had also promised to bring the finest of wines from your husband and Klaus' rather wonderful collection.

You picked some casual clothes, one of your gorgeous shirts tucked into a nice pair of jeans with a leather jacket on top. It was your go to fit almost every night out, your priority being comfort.

The door to your bedroom clicked open and in stepped Elijah, shaking off his coat when his eyes found you standing in front of the mirror and brushing your hair.

"Going somewhere?" He asked, standing behind you as he loosened his tie, removing the material.

"A girls night out," you answered and were about to place a necklace around your neck but he took it from your fingers.

"Allow me," he whispered as he held the chain. You pushed your hair to one side and he clasped the hook, his breath fanning your skin.

"Thank you," you smiled and reached up to kiss his cheek, his stubble scratching you in the process.

His hands kept you in place, not wanting to depart from you. "Stay safe, love. I'll miss you".

You couldn't help it as laughter bubbled in your throat, god you loved this man to death. "That's sweet, husband," you squished his cheeks as he rolled his eyes. If it was anyone but his wife, the person would've had their neck snapped for even getting too close, much less touching him.

He watched as you left, blowing a small kiss and smiling at the way you blushed a little before thinking of reading a book.

"There's my favourite Original!" Caroline immediately brought you into a hug as soon as you stepped inside making you tighten the hug. Out of all the vampires, she was the one you liked the most.

"And she has brought the booze too!" Bonnie added and gave you a side hug, you held the small but powerful witch in deep admiration. She had sacrificed a lot.

You were still in the hallway when your phone rang and your face scrunched in surprise at the name. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Just wanted to make sure you reached safely," came your husband's deep voice.

"We're not going to bite her Elijah!" Caroline screamed from a distance and he chuckled, having heard her clearly.

"Oh believe me your bodies would be lying on the floor before you had the chance," he spoke and you were glad none of them heard it as you scolded him.

"Sorry," you could see the small pout on his face as he apologised and how could you ever be angry.

"I have to go now," you told him and heard a groan in response. "The girls will shoot me if I make them wait another minute".

"Have fun and... Come home quickly please".

"I will promise. Love you," you said and hung up, pausing to see the three girls standing with their arms crossed and smirks on their faces.

"How is he such a simp after literal centuries?" Elena inquired with a disbelieving laugh as you settled in the living room.

"I honestly don't know," you said truthfully.

"I mean he can't stay away from you at all! It's cute actually," she grinned and you just brushed her off. It was how Elijah had always been.

"Less boys talk and more focus on the drinks please," Caroline interrupted and handed you a shot.

You barely kept track of time as conversations spiralled one after the other. It felt good, unusual but so nice to be able to have a normal night with your friends. Worry didn't even cross your mind as you laughed wholeheartedly, enjoying the many gossips the girls shared from school. They all asked you innumerous questions, all wanting your advice on every tiny thing and you were more than happy to give the same. You felt a small bundle of happiness after noticing that they regarded you as an older sister, someone they could be themselves with and share their problems with.

Your group was soon joined by the Salvatore brothers who greeted you.

"Fancy seeing my famous Mikaelson at my house," Damon threw that signature smirk of his.

"An also very taken Mikaelson," Stefan chided in receiving a scoff from his brother. "You won't live to see another day if you tried anything".

"Must you always be so pleasant," Damon smiled sweetly before frowning as he clearly remembered the time when he had flirted with you unknowingly and had his neck almost snapped by Elijah.

"Seeing as you all are here, shall we go?" Elena asked and everyone nodded. You all had plans to hit the club, there was a live band performing too.

And as you entered the nightclub, you were hit by the loud sound of music and flashing lights. The energy had quickly taken over you as you raised your arms up and danced to the music.

The girls followed your lead while the boys made a beeline for the bar. You took Bonnie's hand and swayed with her, hands in the air as you let go without a care in the world. Stefan tapped your shoulder and offered you a glass of whiskey which you downed in one gulp.

You had lost count of the amount of drinks that were currently in your system but the way you felt light-headed was proof that there were too many. It was quite hard for vampires to get drunk but if they consumed way more than their regular quantity, the symptoms started to show.

You definitely had a lot, lot more because you could barely stand straight. Stefan noticed your swaying body and held your shoulders to balance you and led you to the bar, making you sit.

"Thanks Stefan," you murmured, and before he could stop you, you downed another glass.

"Yeah no that's enough for you," he took the empty glass and placed it far away, ensuring that you wouldn't ask for a refill. "I really think you should go home now".

"What's the fun in that?" You frowned, and your eyes lit up when Caroline slumped down next to you.

"You're done barbie," Damon grunted as he wrestled a bottle of bourbon from her hand making her pout. "There's our cue to go home. You want me to drop you, Original Wife?" The nickname was barely heard as you rested your head on your arms, eyes closing with exhaustion. "I take that as a yes".

"Or should we call Elijah instead?" Stefan asked with a little hesitation but Damon immediately agreed and so he made the call.

"Stefan. To what do I owe this pleasure at pray tell, 2 in the morning?" Came Elijah's remark.

"Your wife is half asleep in the club," Damon snatched the phone only to have some fun. So being her very good friend, should I personally escort her home or are you coming?"

He was silent before replying, "I will be there," and hanging up.

"What?" Damon asked the look that his brother was giving him. "I didn't do anything," he said making Stefan shake his head as he waited beside you, keeping an eye on Elena and Bonnie while Damon took Caroline home.

Elijah arrived not more than 5 minutes later, looking as impeccable as ever in a simple shirt and jeans. He spotted Stefan and made his way towards the younger Salvatore.

"That was quick," Stefan said, standing up.

"I happened to be nearby," he answered and his eyes found your figure sitting on the barstool, playing with the ring on your finger. "Thank you for looking out for her, I'll take it from here". He walked towards you and one look at your face told him that you were clearly drunk. As soon as he came in your sight, your lips stretched in a wide smile and you threw yourself at him.

"Elijah!" You exclaimed and hugged him tightly, almost crushing him because of your grip.

"Shall we go home now, love?" He asked softly, his expression amused as you nodded and refused to let go of him when you began walking.

"I missed you," you mumbled in his neck, pressing kisses all over the exposed skin.

"As did I," he pulled you closer by the waist, his breath hitching when you bit a sensitive spot. He tried to ignore the feeling and directed you inside the car before seating himself behind the wheel.

The journey home was spent in silence until you broke it, "You look handsome".

"Do I now?" He glanced at you before his eyes flitted back to the road.

You nodded seriously, "But not as good as my husband does. He's a very handsome man".

Elijah barely managed to conceal his laughter, your situation was much worse than he thought. "Then you must be lucky to have him".

"Oh yes certainly. He's also my best friend, and knows everything about me. I love him a lot, even after all these years".

"He loves you too, a lot. And I know that he's very fortunate to have you as his wife".

Your lack of response made it sure that you had fallen asleep. Right on time too as he was just pulling over to park the car. He was as gentle as possible in getting you out and holding you close to his chest, a sudden fondness rising in his chest as he looked at you sleeping so peacefully in his arms. He was quick to lay you on the bed, taking off your shoes too while also changing into sweatpants and a t-shirt.

"Elijah," you mumbled sleepily, squinting your eyes to see him and groaning loudly as your head throbbed a little.

"Water," he handed you the glass as you sat up. You gulped it all down.

"God how much did I drink," you rubbed your temple before letting out a sigh when he pulled you in his embrace, tucking your head under his chin.

"Apparently a lot," his chest vibrated as he spoke and ran his fingers through your hair, carefully untangling it while also soothing your headache. "His other hand was placed on your waist protectively, rubbing circles on the skin.

"What were you doing awake at this hour?" You questioned, listening to his steady heartbeat. "Damon could've dropped me home".

"I couldn't sleep and decided to go on a drive".

"Everything's okay right?" You lifted your head, looking in his dark eyes to see them showing nothing but affection.

He smiled a little and pressed his lips to yours and just like that any thought you had simply evaporated as you focused on him. "Everything is fine," he said and shifted to lie down completely, not letting go of you and instead holding you closer.

"I love you," you spoke in the quietness of the night. Your body molded into his perfectly and he warmed you immediately. "More than anything".

"I love you too, darling," he kissed your forehead and your heart skipped a beat. He lingered for a few seconds, knowing the intimacy of the moment. "Always and forever".

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

This was quite a long one and I sincerely hope that you enjoyed it! I'm also a little proud of this so would really appreciate it if you show some love <3

[bunji-enthusiast]

hiii i just saw your lancelot x vampire!reader and i loveddddd it!!! i was wondering if you could do lancelot x tristan's (twin/younger whos like 15) sister??? idk just thought it would be cute

anyway hope you have great day/night!!!♡

The thousands of fluffy scenarios one could dream up is absolutely adorable, anyway I hope you like this! Have a great day/night as well anon ❤️

Your elder brother's supposed best friend Lancelot was quite the cheeky bastard you've come to know him as, but there wasn't to say that he had quite a decent amount of other sides to him. So you had wondered if you were ever going to be very close friendship-wise to find that out however.

Despite the soul-sucking hardships of life that came with growing up, being around him and your family had been made a lot easier. Though you were worried to say the least when he had disappeared a few years back, and was somehow a completely different person. As if his power was now vastly different then yours.

The sense of longing to know him again, was like a pit of despair you had no reason to want to make friends with. but life eventually pitted you against the vary thing you waned to experience, of course life always finds a way. That stupid little saying you always heard your mother say, worms into your mind for situations like these.

Every whisper is turning into voices that you began to discern as noises, the crumbling cesspit of despair that banged at the door of your mental fortitude. You always ignored the pain of what it did to you, you wanted to remain ignorant to whatever have may have happened to Lancelot. The distant look in his eyes sometimes, made your heart hurt.

Of course you had no place in the matter, only watching from far ahead as you had trained to get stronger, to get even better then your elder brother. The nagging pool of thoughts welling in your mind, eating away at your mind and will, scolding you for your inability to be unable to offer just a bit of help at all. You really hated it, but it had often made you wonder about other things, if it was ever like this for your mother and father. Tristan too, the burdens placed upon your brother's shoulders must inconvenience every aspect of his life.

Only you wished you could be none the wiser, and just be a little dumber. Rarely had you been offered chances to rest, be at peace and allow your mind to re-charge and stay ready.

The sheets were itchy, and the wind blowing across the shattered scars of the glass made your mind wrought with awakened thoughts. No sleep could overcome you, and it was a harsh inability as you clambered over to the balcony of your room–compared in stark contrast to your brother’s large bed and room, you had a small bed but a view like nothing else. 

Another day came and went, and you had nothing unique to show for it as another vein of your useless work came to be part of the royal family. You let out a low growl, sighing as your thoughts buzzed incessantly, becoming your only noise of conversation as you admired the stars. 

“That sad mood of yours can really kill one.” Your eyes flickered over to the source of the voice, familiar as it is. You couldn’t find it in yourself to use whatever energy you had to look, for that matter. 

“Look who’s talking.” You snickered in response, making him roll his eyes. White shoes clacked against the resounding hard-stone floor, you could feel the warmth ease right up to your side. It had almost made you want to ease right up to his side, a natural habit of gravitation in the human-like body to crave warmth if the body was otherwise cold. 

Looking down was often an act you regret, even from the security of the stone-railings, heights had always scared you. 

“Can’t sleep?” He asked, yet his tone seemed to be so… soft? As if he was considering the noise level for your comfort, but you sincerely didn’t want to narrow down on such a miniscule thing for no reason. So you shook your head, your eyes blinking to a close. Sleep clambered onto the edges of your eyes, and you really hated that, everytime you really were about to fall asleep–it ran away from you. 

With all the energy you could muster; “Not really.”

“You?” You asked, trudging your hand from the dusty cracks of the railing, resting your head against the smallness of your palm. Lancelot hums, an agreeable noise in response. 

One blink, two. You wondered what he was here for, but you weren’t awake enough to care or know why. So you kept the thoughts to yourself, and kept wondering as Lancelot’s company seemed to be staying longer then expected. 

Like whom a moth frolics, it was always attracted to a flame. 

“Do you ever feel powerless sometimes?”

The question hung in the air, as if it were an unspeakable thing you had decidedly dared to utter. You didn’t know what else to say, but you couldn’t stand the silence that wrangled far and high between the both of you. 

Maybe that was a definite answer. 

His eyes flickered over to yours, brief and unseeing. Yet Lancelot hadn’t allowed his gaze to linger any longer, “Plenty of times.” 

Your eyes shone with a derelict diamond, roughened in surprise at the admittance to your question. Seemingly starred such a vein and vulnerable air stout about Lancelot’s being; and you weren’t the mind reader here. 

And up high above, the stars shone brightly, as if they were commending the blonde teenager for something that would otherwise be such a difficult thing to admit. “Glad to know I'm not the only one then.” You said, letting out a breathy laugh. 

Oh way down the vice grips of your mind, you wished you would've said something completely different. But being social, let alone with someone you would know since childhood is a difficulty like no other. 

Falling was eternally a state of mind, you weren’t: brave, fearful, strong, or kind. No good qualities to note out of the two bodies standing still at the cold top of the castles, looking out from the safety of the balcony. A teasing chuckle tore you out of your thoughts, causing you to shoot him a glare, not unprepared for whatever Lancelot may say next. 

“Being vulnerable and being strong naturally equate to the same thing.” He mentions, nodding at you. 

A spotty habit, residual of your childhood years where you had sometimes joined Lancelot and Tristan in their bouts. The teasing and the banter, it was something you had come to expect come that time and age, and truly was a breath of fresh air more or less. 

You sigh, propping your chin up against the flat of your palm, “What are you implying?”

“You need to get something off your chest.”

Immediately, you rose with caution. Taking heed as you adjusted yourself, moving your elbows from the dusty pins of cracks within the stone-railing and instead leaning on your hands now. 

“It really isn’t important.” You warned, watching as Lancelot raised his hands in surrender. Yet something deep within those eyes of his told you something. 

Was he… worried about you?

[pjohoo-reclists]

Hello there! May I request some time travel fics?

Hello Roosinii!! Here you go. I found a decent amount and split it into two rec lists. I'll tag you when the second list is posted. Enjoy!!

PJO/HoO Time Travel Fics (1/2)

A list of fics that have different sorts of time travel involved. All these fics are tagged time travel, in addition to the other tags listed. This list has fics under 40k. This list has fics over 40k.

Be my lighthouse; show me the path towards home. by youngjusticewriter 

T | 700 words | Complete

Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson, Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Abusive Relationships, Post-Tartarus

Despite the tears in his eyes along with Smelly Gabe's blood on his knuckles his mom doesn't immediately demand answers because she's not only the best person in the world but the best mom in the world. Instead, she runs a hand through his mess of hair and hums softly as though he's still a baby instead of a seventeen year old demi-god that's in his twelve year old "troubled kid" body. It feels too soon when his mom finally pulls somewhat away from him to stare at his face - at his eyes and she had to see something in them. Or the first thing Percy does after getting over the shock of being woken up by Grover (who is so young even though he's not) is use his money he got from selling his illegal stash of candy to Yancy students is go find his mom.

Time is a River by Oreocat155338

T | 2.2k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Apollo, Percy Jackson & Zeus, Percy Jackson & Poseidon

Angst, Hopeful Ending, accidental Percy/Hermes elements

"In Einstein's equation, time is a river. It speeds up, meanders, and slows down. The new wrinkle is that it can have whirlpools and fork into two rivers. So, if the river of time can be bent into a pretzel, create whirlpools and fork into two rivers, then time travel cannot be ruled out." - Michio Kaku Percy time travels way further than they meant him to. Now he has to deal with trying to not change things, and figuring out what the hell he's going to do once time catches up.

is it really a crime if you don't exist? by MidnightBunnyy

T | 2.7k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Percy Jackson, Percy Jackson & Annabeth Chase, Percy Jackson & Nico di Angelo

Humor, tired college student edition, crack

"So, what you're saying is," Percy said, staring at the man in front of him. "you're me from the future." The man took a drink out of the coffee cup in his hand. "Yup." "And you're here," Percy said slowly. "Because Annabeth's brother's boyfriend is trying to prove the existence of the multiverse." The man nodded. "And you got sucked in when he turned it on." Nod. "And now you don't know how to get home." Nod. "And how did you get sucked in, again?" The man mumbled something. "What?" "I was coming back from the bathroom and opened the wrong door."

a new age by suomynonAnonymous

T | 2.8k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase, Percy Jackson & Poseidon

Dark Percy, PTSD, Fix-it

When Luke and Kronos are killed by a mysterious man a few days after the Battle of the Labyrinth, Percy and Annabeth are confused. Who is this man powerful enough to defeat a Titan? And why does he look so much like Percy? |“Our parents care about us, they just have an shit way of showing it. After all, they’re gods. They have important shit to do.” Thalia says dismissively, striding towards the man. “C’mon Percy, let’s kill this-” “If your father cared about you,” the man interrupts quietly. “Why didn’t he tell you Jason was alive?” Thalia freezes. Annabeth and I looked on in confusion. Who was Jason?

the annabeth project by pjoseries (divineauthor)

T | 13k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase, Percy Jackson & Annabeth Chase

Banter, Action & Romance, Established Relationship

Time kneels to no one, but Percy will take his chances. Annabeth is lost in time. Percy finds his way to her, but not without a few familiar faces helping him along the way.

Walking Backward Into My Own Myth by mrthology

M | 19k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Character Study, Temporary Character Death, gods being gods

"You should have ascended years ago," Zeus said without preamble, looking down at Percy. The other Olympians, even his father, remained silent, watching the proceedings with uncharacteristic solemnity. "I said no years ago," Percy snapped, rage making his voice tremble and hands shake. "I didn't want to be a God then, and I want to even less now. I've seen how horrible eternity is." "You would defy the fates themselves?" Athena asked softly, leaning forwards with narrowed eyes. She looked more godly than Percy had ever seen her, to the point where it was nearly unbearable to look at her face. Percy did so nevertheless, glaring at the Goddess he'd lost almost all respect for. "You had children die today," he snapped, desperate to return to Camp. "Annabeth could still die—hasn't she done enough?" Or, Percy keeps living the same horrible day over and over and over again, regardless of what he does. Eventually, something will have to give. Percy just isn't sure what.

Love's Design by MidnightinJapan

G | 22k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Nico di Angelo

Drama, Romance, Action/Adventure

Prompt: Nico is sent back in time.

bring the forgotten dawn by poisedwalrus

G | 22k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Annabeth Chase, Percy Jackson & Grover Underwood, Percy Jackson & Nico di Angelo

Unreliable Narrator, Mood whiplash, Fix it

“What is it?” Grover asks, “What’s with that weird look on your face?” “Just trying to figure out if turning me in will get us enough bounty money to buy our way to LA.” Percy says, craning his neck towards the news van. “We are not turning you in to the police.” Grover presses his head back into the alleyway. “Why not?” Percy says. They could use a bit of cash. “You guys can just break me out afterwards, right?” Annabeth looks like she’s considering it. “No, guys,” Grover says. “No.” - If Percy has to spend the rest of his life cleaning up after the gods, then he might as well start from the beginning.

Stick Together and Navigate the Storm by Rynna_Aurelius

M | 24k+ | Last Updated June 29, 2022

Percy Jackson & Hazel Levesque, Annabeth Chase & Percy Jackson, Percy Jackson & Triton

Everyone Needs A Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, PTSD

Kronos has returned. Again. Ever since waking up as his twelve-year-old self, Percy Jackson has thrown himself from one fire into another, taking advantage of the Fates-given second chance to try and set things right. But now, he has to face the results of his efforts: the second Titanomachy back on the horizon, only a few friends who know the truth, and a camp struggling in the aftermath of Kronos's return (And Luke Castellan's sacrifice). All the while, two sides of an impending war are racing to find the Golden Fleece, Hazel Levesque is trying to piece together her own life, and Sally Jackson runs into a fast-talking son of Hephaestus on the run one day. . . "What is it?" Percy demanded. Hazel Levesque grimaced. "Chiron issued the quest for the Golden Fleece this morning. Without you."

close to the breathing wave by poisedwalrus

G | 32k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Luke Castellan

Unreliable Narrator, Mood Whiplash, Fix it

“Why are you looking at skateboards?” asks Luke. “Maybe Kronos wants us to get a skateboard.” Luke presses a hand on the top of Percy’s head and physically turns him away from the window display. “Does Kronos want us to get a skateboard,” he says. “…No.” Luke wants to know what the hell Percy thinks he’s doing. Percy wants Luke to trip and fall over the side of the yacht. They are, as always, at an impasse.

Sands of Time by CSP2708, Dylan_Walts

T | 40k | Complete

Percy Jackson, The Hunters of Artemis, Kronos

Battle, Historical, Pre-Heroes of Olympus

In a fit of rage, Kronos curses Percy before he disappears. The curse, forever tied to Percy, will send him through time at random, and there is no way for him to stop it or is there?

[charlie-and-brown]

I always love movies or anime that depict family drama. When I saw Sasuke’s family, I truly could resonate with him. That’s a standard Asian family.

That’s why I have a soft spot for him. If you love your family so dearly that to lose them all in a blink would destroy someone’s mind. He didn’t become some lunatics but still walked on his path to avenge his family. That’s the achievement itself.

For someone like Sasuke, he literally had no other path. For justice, he needed to kill Itachi because he massacred the whole clan. For family, he needed to kill him for he killed their parents. However, killing this person would assure him to be forever alone.

In Chinese, it called, 義, similar to morality, but it’s much closer to justice. Something in between.

That’s why I couldn’t like Itachi. He was narcissistic. He considered him the solution of this dilemma. Regardless of the outcome, he should let his clan members decide, but he was just smart and wanted to save Konoha from civil wars and his family’s face and his brother?

So…other clan members weren’t important because they weren’t the main clan? (Hinata’s father seemed better right now. He just gave his cousins seals. No life threatening. Just a reminder of who you are.)

Itachi massacred the whole clan, including babies, children, teenagers, and someone’s parents just for saving other people in Konoha. That’s just evil. Every life matters. And a lot of people said he was right.

Are you kidding me?

Yeah, Just get rid of the people he didn’t like for a better outcome for humankind. That’s just wonderful.

After I saw this drawing, I could totally get why Susake had some strong reactions.

Tell me Itachi is right, if you still could.

How could you still think he was sparing their pains? They didn’t need this pain in the first place!!A lot of his clan members didn’t know about the coup. Who gave him the right to decide?

He could just kill the people who were in charge of the coup, but no, for Uchiha was evil, he needed to kill them all. For saving the face, he needed to kill them.

Sound familiar, right? How was it different from old Asian Culture or Indian Culture, which allow the clan members to kill women conducting adultery just to save face?

And a lot of people shipped Uchiha Izumi and Itachi. I just couldn’t imagine. She would rather live, okay? There are a lot of men in the world. No matter how useless she might be, she could still find someone who loved her and she loved back.

The word, Love, could never erase Itachi’s sin. He could claim he loved his brother all along but what he had done during Massacre and after it were torture and nothing else. There were some fan fictions that Sasuke saved him from death or spared him because of learning the truth.

I don’t think that would work. Itachi had forced himself and his brother to the corner and there was absolute no turning back.

Sasuke is someone who has clear ideas in the right and wrong. Despite it’s Konoha’s order, but the person who carried out was his brother. His brother was the one who decided all Uchiha should die for the greater good.

Itachi had done the things that no humankind would allow. I truly pitied him because his life was nothing but a sigh. He had chosen the path to the darkness and only death could bring him peace. He couldn’t afford to think in other ways or he would need to face his mistakes. That’s painful and sad.

[richincolor]

We have five books on our radar this week, and there's something for just about everyone here. Which ones are you adding to your TBR list?

Against the Darkness (In Every Generation #3) by Kandare Blake Disney Hyperion

This epic finale to the The Next Generation trilogy by New York Times bestselling author Kendare Blake ( Three Dark Crowns ) features the next generation of Scoobies and Slayers who must defeat a powerful new evil. For generations, the Slayer was supposed to be the chosen, the one girl in all the world with the power to stand against the vampires, demons, and forces of darkness. When Willow used the scythe to call up all the potential slayers at once, it changed everything. For years, the slayers have been working and fighting together as a team. Then the Darkness came, killing many slayers and trapping the rest in an alternate dimension. And Frankie Rosenberg, the world’s first Slayer-Witch, found herself fighting evil alone. Sort of. Sure, she has her new Scooby Gang, plus the help of her mom, Willow; Watcher, Spike; and even the brooding-but-hot Hunter of Thrace. But even though they have a master plan (obviously), the gang is more fragmented than ever. So maybe it really is up to Frankie—and Frankie alone—to stand against the darkness. With Jake’s wild werewolf brother back in town, Dark Willow threatening to return, and the Darkness preparing for the final stage of their attack, now is not a great time to wallow in teen angst. After all, she’s the Slayer. It’s time to slay.

And Then There Was Us by Kern Carter Tundra Books

A mother's death forces a teen girl to reevaluate their tumultuous relationship in this powerful coming-of-age novel for teens. For fans of I Am Not Your Perfect Mexican Daughter. Coi is just eighteen years old, but has already survived years of physical and verbal abuse from her mother. After being kicked out of her mother's house at age fourteen, Coi has lived with her father, and together they've created a peaceful life. That peace ends suddenly when her mother dies. While Coi struggles to find kindness in her heart for the woman who only hurt her, she starts having lucid dreams, forcing her to relive moments of abuse and emotional trauma that eventually led to Coi's abandonment. Her mother's passing also reopens the door to her mother's side of the family, including her beloved younger half-sister, Kayla, her stepfather and her grandmother. Each of them challenge Coi's long-held views about her mother, especially Kayla, who, Coi realizes, is taking their mother's loss hard. As she reconnects with her family, Coi learns to see parts of her mother she never experienced, and for the first time since she was abandoned, opens her heart to forgiveness.

Canto Contigo by Jonny Garza Villa Wednesday Books

When a Mariachi star transfers schools, he expects to be handed his new group's lead vocalist spot—what he gets instead is a tenacious current lead with a very familiar, very kissable face. In a twenty-four-hour span, Rafael Alvarez led North Amistad High School’s Mariachi Alma de la Frontera to their eleventh consecutive first-place win in the Mariachi Extravaganza de Nacional; and met, made out with, and almost hooked up with one of the cutest guys he’s ever met. Now eight months later, Rafie’s ready for one final win. What he didn’t plan for is his family moving to San Antonio before his senior year, forcing him to leave behind his group while dealing with the loss of the most important person in his life—his beloved abuelo. Another hitch in his plan: The Selena Quintanilla-Perez Academy’s Mariachi Todos Colores already has a lead vocalist, Rey Chavez—the boy Rafie made out with—who now stands between him winning and being the great Mariachi Rafie's abuelo always believed him to be. Despite their newfound rivalry for center stage, Rafie can’t squash his feelings for Rey. Now he must decide between the people he’s known his entire life or the one just starting to get to know the real him. Canto Contigo is a love letter to Mexican culture, family and legacy, the people who shape us, and allowing ourselves to forge our own path. At its heart, this is one of the most glorious rivals-to-lovers romance about finding the one who challenges you in the most extraordinary ways.

Dragonfruit by Makiia Lucier Clarion Books

From acclaimed author Makiia Lucier, a dazzling, romantic fantasy inspired by Pacific Island mythology. In the old tales, it is written that the egg of a seadragon, dragonfruit, holds within it the power to undo a person’s greatest sorrow. An unwanted marriage, a painful illness, and unpaid debt ... gone. But as with all things that promise the moon and the stars and offer hope when hope has gone, the tale comes with a warning. Every wish demands a price. Hanalei of Tamarind is the cherished daughter of an old island family. But when her father steals a seadragon egg meant for an ailing princess, she is forced into a life of exile. In the years that follow, Hanalei finds solace in studying the majestic seadragons that roam the Nominomi Sea. Until, one day, an encounter with a female dragon offers her what she desires most. A chance to return home, and to right a terrible wrong. Samahtitamahenele, Sam, is the last remaining prince of Tamarind. But he can never inherit the throne, for Tamarind is a matriarchal society. With his mother ill and his grandmother nearing the end of her reign. Sam is left with two to marry, or to find a cure for the sickness that has plagued his mother for ten long years. When a childhood companion returns from exile, she brings with her something he has not felt in a very long time - hope. But Hanalei and Sam are not the only ones searching for the dragonfruit. And as they battle enemies both near and far, there is another danger they cannot escape…that of the dragonfruit itself.

The Smoke That Thunders by Erhu Kome Norton Young Readers

From a debut Nigerian author: a spectacular young adult fantasy rooted in West African mythology and brimming with adventure. In this mesmerizing fantasy rooted in Urhobo and West African folklore, sixteen-year-old Naborhi longs for a life away from her small, traditional clan in Kokori. But as her rite of passage approaches and she is betrothed to an arrogant young man, Naborhi feels her dreams slipping away from her. Then Naborhi becomes bonded to a mysterious animal and begins having harrowing visions of a kidnapped boy. She soon meets Atai, the son of an Oracle from a rival queendom, and learns that she is being guided by the gods. She and Atai, along with Naborhi’s eager-for-adventure cousin, Tamunor, set off across the continent to rescue the mysterious boy. But when they find him―and find out his true identity―Naborhi realizes there is more than just her freedom at stake: she must stop a war that has already been set in motion. With lush, unique worldbuilding and a dynamic cast of characters, The Smoke That Thunders is a gripping story of political intrigue, fierce love, and what it means to be free.

[angst-fairygodmother]

Darkened Hearts (The Umbrella Academy)

It’s been ten years of trying to move on. But when Reginald Hargreeves’ death sets off a snowball of events leading to the end of the world, you may as well throw in reuniting with an ex. But can Diego and Y/N set aside their difference and fix things, before the countdown ends and the world blows up the same way as their marriage?

CHAPTER 1: BAD IDEA

Word Count: 2293 Pairing: Diego Hargreeves x (fem)Reader Warnings: Drug references, references to canon-typical violence, canon-typical language Rating: T Cross-posted to AO3: here

A Sequel to Light Fingers

There were still days when your bare ring finger felt wrong, naked and exposed, or like a piece was missing. Today was one of those days, and you wished you knew why, the foreboding in your stomach heavy and almost painful. But you forced yourself out of bed anyway, forced yourself to put on your uniform and go to work for a double-shift and pretend that everything was just fine. 

~

“Hey Y/N,” one of the busboys called from where the rest of the kitchen staff were all crowded around the small television set, “Hargreeves. Isn’t that your ex’s last name?”

You frowned, setting down the cup you had been drying off and joining them. 

“The explorer and intellectual, perhaps best known for his controversial adopted children, The Umbrella Academy, was found in his home after a complete heart failure and cardiac arrest,” the reporter continued, reading from a sheet of paper. 

“Well damn, who knew he even had one of those?” you muttered, watching the images flashing on the screen as the woman continued on cheerfully, describing Reginald’s various accolades, glossing over or ignoring entirely his flaws.

“Authorities pronounced him dead on the scene, and the world now watches with baited breath for what happens next? Will the estranged young superheroes return for their father’s funeral, and will any of them claim his place as patriarch and headmaster of the once-famed Academy?”

You wondered if you should call Diego. What would you say? He wouldn’t want your sympathy, if anything he’d be glad the man was dead. But it seemed crass to suggest getting a drink together, for old time’s sake, to celebrate. 

You shook your head, forcing your eyes from the staticy screen. Probably best to do nothing. 

~

An hour or so later, the doorbell chimed as someone came in, despite the fact that the door should have been locked.

“We’re closed,” you called, not looking up from your task refilling boxes of sugar packets. 

“Y/N!” a familiar voice called dramatically. “I thought you’d be here, you workaholic you.”

“Klaus?” you startled, looking up to stare at him as he sauntered in. “What are you doing here?”

“Well. I was on my way to dear old dad’s funeral. I’m sure you heard that he croaked. And I thought, hm. I should bring a plus one, and who better than my best friend in the whole world who used to be married to my brother til he was stupid enough to let you get away.”

“That’s a long winded way of saying you’re trying to cause trouble on purpose.”

“No. I’m saying, don’t you want to see Diego? You can offer him...comfort?”

“I can’t do that Klaus. Diego and I have to stay out of each other’s lives.”

“Why?” his voice took on a whiny quality. “You’re like the only person he’s ever actually liked. I’ve never seen Diego smile before. Or since. Just when you two were together.”

You felt your resolve wavering before you swallowed those emotions back down. “It’s like...heroin.”

“What?” 

You motioned for Klaus to take a seat on one of the stools across from you, already pouring him a cup of coffee from the pot the staff had made to get through cleanup. 

“When a person gives up heroin, it’s because they know they’re addicted. They need it and rely on it, and quitting is acknowledging that’s a problem. It’s not healthy or safe or good for you.”

“Diego wasn’t safe? Did he hurt you? I’ll kill him if he did.” Klaus’s brows knit together, studying your face carefully. Despite his usual peacefulness, something in the way he said it made you believe him, and it sent a chill through you. 

“No. That’s not...stay with me here okay, please? Even once you’ve acknowledged those things and given it up, it’s not gone just like that.” You snapped your fingers. “Right? You miss it, and mourn it, and...crave it. But you can’t give into that feeling. You can’t let yourself surrender. So whenever you feel that itch, that hunger and heartbreak gnawing at you and determined to leave a hole in your gut you...chew a piece of gum or whatever instead. To distract yourself.”

“You replaced my brother with gum?” his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

You sighed, rubbing your temple. “No. I mean there may have been an attempt to with the cute girl from--” you shook your head, interrupting yourself. “It’s a metaphor Klaus. The point is that you can’t go back to the heroin. You can’t call it and check up on it and see how it’s doing. Or go to its father’s funeral and offer your condolences. You can’t apologize or say you made a mistake and gave up the best thing in your life and that losing it was the worst pain you’ve ever felt and I know it’s my fault and can we please please start over and try again.” 

You were near tears and turned your back to your friend to try and hide them. 

“With this conversation? Absolutely. I’m confused.” His voice had a teasing lilt that grated in the wake of how serious you were trying to be.

You growled in frustration, turning sharply back to him. “Clearly using a drug metaphor with you was a bad idea. I thought it’d help you understand but you’ve never willingly quit one in your life.”

“Hey! I’ve gone to rehab…”

“By force or for the convenience of a bed. And stole pills from the nurses’ station usually.”

“You’re being very mean.”

“You can leave whenever you want.”

“He needs you, Y/N. Not that he’ll ever admit it.”

“Klaus, please…” you sighed, closing your eyes. When you opened them again, he was gone, empty coffee cup the only trace he’d been more than a figment of your imagination.

~

Diego knew it was all bullshit, most of what Luther ever said was, but he couldn't stop thinking about it anyway. "It was personal" "someone with a grudge." And his own conclusions that there were no signs of forced entry or struggle. Not many people had both motive and means to pull it off: Reginald's five remaining children, only three of whom were in town and able to get to the Academy; maybe Pogo, although he'd never seen anything to think the chimp thought less than the best of the old man; and her. His ex-wife hated his father, maybe even more than he did, for everything he had done, directly or indirectly. And she was an expert thief, if anyone could get in and out undetected it would be her. He wanted to believe the coroner's report, to believe that at the end of the day Reginald was human enough to die of something mundane. But even if he did, Number One never would, and Y/N would be the top of his suspect list.

It would almost be for the best if it was her, if the other options were his siblings. That's what he tried to tell himself anyway as he threw a dagger to land between the eyes of a looming water buffalo. For the split second between when the blade left his fingers to when it thunked into place, he even considered how easy it would be to point Number One in that direction and let him go. 

“Diego, please. I’ve told you this already, but I’ll keep saying it until you believe me,” her voice rang in his ears, one of the few, failed attempts to sit down and work things out. “I wouldn’t have been sad if your father had been caught in the crossfire. In fact I probably would have gotten a pinata with his face on it. But I swear. On my mother, on my brother, on my father’s grave. Luther was not supposed to be there. And I never wanted anyone to get hurt.” 

Back then, he wouldn’t have doubted it for a second. But now…something just didn’t feel right. He was still contemplating the theory, turning it over in his mind like he frequently turned a knife in his hand, spinning it to the tune of the music drifting through, when a sound like thunder crashed and the room went dark. All thought of his ex and his father’s death left his mind in a rush as he rushed out to the courtyard, following the direction of both the noise, and the metal which all seemed to be suddenly magnetized toward its adjoining walls. 

~

It had been a few hours, but Klaus's words still plagued you. In many ways, he was right. You missed Diego, more than you could find the words for or even wrap your thoughts around. You had just pushed those feelings down further and further, a dammed tide as resentment and time became a wall between you. But there were still floodgates, and the mechanisms might be rusted to hell but a little grease could open them, in theory.

This was a unique opportunity. And you were concerned about what the loss, and the reunion with his siblings, might be doing to his head. It was just the nice thing, the right thing, to try and reach out.

It was a flimsy excuse, but you let it carry you and played it over and over while you toyed with the end of a sleeve and dialed the number on the old, faded post-it.

You almost hung up on the first ring, sucking a deep breath through your nose and steeling yourself when no one answered. 

The phone kept ringing, and you were just about to give up entirely when a voice you half-recognized answered.

“Hello? Who is this?” they asked.

“Uh. Hi. I’m looking for Diego Hargreeves. I’m a...an old friend, and I heard about his father…”

“He already left. I don’t know if he’ll be back for you to leave a message.”

“Oh. That’s okay. Am I speaking to one of his siblings then?”

“Yes. This is Luther Hargreeves.”

‘Shit,’ you couldn’t help thinking. ‘Of course it would be the sibling you most wanted to avoid.’

“Oh. I...I’m sorry for your loss then. I won’t take up any more of your time…”

“What did you say your name was again?”

“I...didn’t. I’m Y/N…”

“Y/N? As in--” you hung up the phone in a panic before he could finish his question and then sat, staring at the phone as if afraid it would, or daring it to, ring.

He had already left. He hated his father and that house. There was no reason to linger now, so he would have wasted no time. He was probably back at the Lion (you briefly considered calling there too, but Al was terrible at forwarding calls in the best times) or out on patrol.

You scrubbed your hands tiredly over your face and laughed bitterly at yourself. The whole idea had been so stupid.

~

Klaus rushed to follow his brother as he walked off. This day had been a laughable disaster, and it was probably a good thing that Y/N hadn't come after all. But he still wanted to do something. He missed happy Diego (he missed all of his siblings, Diego especially. Other than Ben, he had lost track of all of them a bit, or maybe more aptly lost himself. But this wasn't about him. It was about doing something good for once, and fixing Diego and Y/N's relationship, for them).

As he climbed into the back of the car over protest, he made a comment, something flippant and off-color and out of nowhere that he forgot as soon as it left his lips, and smiled when Diego cracked a smile in spite of himself. That was good, that was a start. 

They turned down dark side streets in silence while Klaus gnawed on a hang nail and tried to think.

“Hey, about what you said to Allison, the failed marriage thing,” he started suddenly.

“I don't want to talk about it Klaus,” Diego growled. “Just tell me where I'm dumping your ass so today can finally be over.”

“It's just…it felt like projection. And I'd know all about that. Do you want to talk about you and–”

“No Klaus, I just said I don't want to talk about it. Not now, not ever. It's over. It's done.”

“But–” Klaus yelped as Diego turned a sharp corner and he was nearly knocked into Ben's spectral lap. He gritted his teeth as he sat back upright. The direct approach was out then, time for plan B, in this case standing for Breakfast. Or maybe it should be D for Diner? W for Waitress? 

Not long after, they were parked down by the water, Diego doing something that involved a lot of staring and brooding, which was not unusual, but left Klaus uncomfortably alone with his thoughts, which were not being very productive. The only remotely helpful thing he remembered thinking was that the diner would be closing soon, and if they didn’t get there, it would all be wasted, take two, and he wouldn’t get a third try.

Klaus heard the vague crackle of Diego's bootleg police scanner but decided not to pay much attention to it, since through the closed door he couldn’t hear what exactly was said.

“Diego, thank you for joining us, we have decided on…drumroll…” he tapped tapped a rough pattern on the back of his brother’s seat, “wwwaafflllles.”

“I’m gonna drop you off at the bus stop. I gotta get back to work.”

Klaus's heart sank. And then somehow sank again when Diego slipped his old mask on, a sure sign there was no chance of changing his mind.

So much for a reunion.

[rosehippiefield]

Mental strength part 5: Kai and Q-Taro

The other posts on this topic:

Part 1: Sara and Nao

Part 2: Reko and Alice

Part 3: Kanna and Shin

Part 4: Keiji and Gin

Part 6: Joe and Mishima

We reached characters that die in main story no matter what: devoted assasin that killed only one person and baseball player with a dream that couldn't be brought to life. But the fact they are no longer around does not mean they didn't display strength.

Kai had it rough from childhood if not from birth: his only objective is to kill. He is an assasin, a tool, but a naive child does not understand that, still fighting for father's approval and affection. Mini killing game with Sei shaped his core beliefs: due to death of foster brother he was incapable of murder. Imagine being under pressure of a enourmous criminal organisation and refusing to do what is essentially the reason of bringing you up or keeping you alive. The more dire situation is, the harder it is to remain good person, says wise Mishima in YTTS conserning Kai's past and is absolutely spot on. When on a mission, Kai decides to betray Asunaro for the sake of new found family. It would be a genuine bond if not for Mr. Chidoin's likely trickery (as fandom and I believe), so in fact our merciful assasin is loyal to wrong person. His bravery was punished as he is put in same death game with oblivios protege Sara. In desperate attempts to save his live and her reputation he makes mistakes, putting nails in his own coffin (Who knew that suspicios-looking guy with familiar scarf pattern wasn't with Asunaro? Who knew that he has already read info, making pointless whole frying pan ordeal? Oh well). Kai clearly doesn't want to die, and yet he accepts unavoidable with dignity. His suicide was not despair but hope itself, an act of defiance against unfair and cruel game and prevent yet another horrific execution. You certainly have to have guts to do that. All in all, despite upbringing and nightmarish situation Kai managed to keep his strength and pass it on to the group.

Q-Taro with his healthy (or not entirely) egoism seems to be strong, and not only physically. This giant is going to do anything for survival, discarding anybody else. But begining with chapter 2 he began to waver. Sure, he considers leaving with 200 tokens, there's a gameover where he accompishes it. Still, his guilt for causing Kai's death, for giving laptop to Shin due to blackmail, for not being able to press the button for Gin's sake for a long time - all of it builds up and weakens his resolve to win as individual but to work together toward common goal. In Alice's route Q-Taro manages to take remaining shots instead of Gin - an indication of change. Then, in second main game Q-Taro does not vote for Kanna, who is deemed useless (debatable, but his motivation is simply "You can't vote for a child"). And we all know about his chapter 3 development. Big guy is stabbed and instantly forgives his attacker, fully understanding her. He is the one to unite two groups with objectives entirely different. In logic route Q-Taro gives Sara a deep speech about sins after Yabusame death. Finally, his ultimate camouflage with coffins makes cry not only Gin. "I wavered", "It yielded...", "Even now I feel like I could die for you" - is it really weakness to waver, to fight your instinct? Maybe one could say Q-Taro gave up, refusing to follow survival urge, but I prefer to think his priorities just shifted like with many other characters. Because in no way burning alone with a stab wound, just to give a group a chance to win against enemy, is a weakness and not a noble act.

[leilasbasement]

Ha, Leila left at 4 years old, 4 years later she met Elius, after 4 years she left and after 4 years she returned :D

--------------------------🦊----------------------------

Familiar Stranger

~ It was night, there were two 8-year-old children in the forest... ~

• Elius was with a flashlight, he looked at the frightened Leila as if spellbound •

— you look like me! - both said in one voice, the boy’s laughter was not long in coming while his “double” stood quietly, for a moment forgetting how to breathe..

— ...You look familiar... - the girl tried to continue the conversation.

— well, yes, I look like your reflection in the mirror! - the boy joked

— God, that’s not what I’m talking about... - Leila sighed heavily, this answer killed the fear in her... — We didn’t know each other before..?

— nope, I don’t remember you at all - Elius didn’t even think about it, he had a rule, “if I don’t remember right away, then I don’t know”

— ... Okay - the girl didn’t even talk about that he didn’t even think about it, it was clear from him that he wouldn’t think about it, she immediately realized that he would not think

— hey, what's your name? Or should I call you "female version"? - the boy asked with a smile, teasing his opponent a little

— what..? No! What kind of female version do you think I am?! My name is Leila, Mr. male version! - Elius’s mockery worked, the girl was angry

— come on, I’m Elius, let’s meet each other! - the guy extended his hand

— ... Yeah... We'll get to know each other... - Leila shook hands...

~ and now, meeting again, many years have passed since their “first” meeting, and only 4 years since the last... ~

• Elius sat in the same place where Leila constantly came, he came here every day, despite the fact that his older brother scolded him for it every time, but he hoped that she would return, but in all 4 years no one ever did didn't come... Until this day... •

— um... Eli..? - the girl quietly approached the sitting person

— Lala? - the guy looked in shock at such a long-awaited person, he instantly stood up from his seat

— I didn’t think that you... - she didn’t have time to finish, Elius hit her on the cheek, but at the same moment hugged her

— you bitch is unpredictable! - he cried, both from anger and from happiness

— ... Sorry..? - Leila smiled awkwardly

— where have you been?! - the hug did not last long, the guy pulled away and now just held the girl by the shoulders

— you know, I can’t go out and all that... - she tried to find an excuse, but it didn’t work, and as luck would have it, she forgot all the others, prepared in advance

— when did this ever bother you?! - Elius did not let up

— well... I... It’s just... - the youngest became more and more unsure of her words

— Leila! Answer! - and the elder pressed, he demanded answers

— I wanted you to be fucking alive and healthy! I found a child in the basement who was positive like you! What if my father had put you there too?! Would you be happy?! - the girl couldn’t stand the pressure and told everything

— what? - Elius was taken aback and let Leila go, he was definitely not expecting such an answer... — but... You could have warned!

— What if father followed me and found you that night when I wanted to warn you?! What if that very night he decided to get rid of you?! - now the girl began to press

— ... I understand... I'm sorry... - the guy admitted defeat and guiltily looked away, just like in childhood...

— I..! ...Okay.. - Leila melted in an instant, she could never stay angry at that face for long...

--------------------------🦊----------------------------

DBN Nightmare and Starcross ( brother and father ) by @dr3amsbec0men1ghtm4res / @il1ketulipz

[marysunburn]

Azir the Exile: prologue

(this is another AU I’ve been mentioning for a while that has nothing to do with the one about Azir being tortured by Xerath, even though he’s not happy in this one either because it’s my AU)

-This is the last time you shame us with your stupidity.-

-Father… I beg you.-

Prince Azir, twelve years of age, the sweetest eyes you’d ever see in the Royal Palace or elsewhere now filled with glassy tears, kneels at the bottom of the throne as if his blood was of no worth. He’s never begged, before: not even his own father.

None dare look in his eyes: not the Queen, who seems to relish in her husband’s words, nor his older siblings, standing in a row by her side. They know their little brother is lost, and despite their heavy hearts, none of them could possibly fathom Azir’s decision.

He’s always been strange, but not like this.

-Fraternizing with the lowlife is idiotic even for you. Never…- the Emperor sounds tired, as if he was the hurt party in the situation. -Never has anyone in this dinasty ever insulted us this way.-

-Xerath is good! He’s been good to me, he respects me! He thinks I’m smart.-

-Xerath.- Despite Shurima’s relentless heat, the air seems to freeze around the Emperor. -That one doesn’t deserve a name.-

-I gave it to him, because he’s mine. He’s good and smart… and if you just cared to know him!-

Azir’s eyes seem to bulge out of their sockets he’s crying so much. Even the palace guards look at each other as if the kid has gone mad.

-We of Royal blood give no heed to his kind. But worry not about him: soon he’ll no longer be of worry. Mind your own life, child, and be cert…-

-IMPERIAL MAJESTY, WATCH OUT!-

As if he’d forgotten his fear entirely, Azir lunges to the throne like a rampaging hawk and raises his fists towards his father’s face.

Fists rain upon him; the guards, the servants, even his own mother. But even as strong adult arms drag him away from the throne, hairband coming undone in a flood of locs, he thrashes and weeps.

-NO! NOT XERATH… PLEASE, DON’T! HE’S MY FRIEND… Y-YOU CAN’T…-

Being exiled could have been a sweeter ordeal with his friend by his side. Xerath is clever and inventive, and already saved his life once. They could have lived a life of adventure and forget the loss of status.

But the threat of losing him makes Azir lose what little restraint he has.

As he’s dragged off into the street, kicking and sobbing until he’s out of breath, he witnesses the court artisans carving his name and face away from all the mosaics, the servants ripping his likeness from the paintings, and baskets and boxes of his books, jewels, make-up, his lyre, his practice armor and his own ornate dagger being taken from his rooms.

But there’s one thing – one man – on his mind.

-DON’T HURT HIM, PH… PLEASE! XERATH IS MY… MY FRIEND. DON’T KILL HIM PLEASE, FATHER PLEASE! MOTHER… SOMEONE… please-

~ ~ ~

Azir finds himself out a backdoor, kneeling into the scalding sand, his tears drawing circles into the floor.

Until the evening he screams – he bangs at the door calling Xerath’s name, shedding blood from his fists and growing hoarse with every scream.

It’s over. All his love did was ruin the one person who genuinely cared for him.

When dusk falls, Azir’s strength has expired – but not his tears. He sits in the corner of the back alley he was tossed out of, like a discarded kitten, muttering Xerath’s sweet lost name, and looking upon the wreckage he made of himself.

One day ago he was a prince, clad in gold and silk, beloved by the kingdom and coveted by the worthy. Now he’s nothing. No name, no friends, no place to go, no skills outside from ruling.

So, when a shadow looms over him, he only has the strength to raise his neck – and through the film of tears, a familiar face appears.

-Little bird?-

[atwttgfanfic]

RECAP:

Sarah Hale hails from Earth 1218, a world where mutants are known only through comic books. Her ordinary life was upended when Victor Creed from Earth 295 unexpectedly appeared during her camping trip, injured and disoriented.

He had been thrown through a portal during a fierce battle with Holocaust, a powerful adversary in his universe where Apocalypse rules.

Intrigued and compassionate, Sarah helped Victor recover. She became deeply involved in Victor's world, ultimately following him back to Earth 295.

There, she joined a group called the Exiles, which included alternate versions of many mutants familiar to her from comic books, including Pietro Maximoff and Logan.

Her relationship with Victor deepened, and she came to see Pietro as a big brother figure, while Logan became a father figure to her.

After an unexpected series of events involving a scheme by Fang, another mutant who manipulated Victor into undesirable actions, and resulted in them becoming separated Sarah ended up being thrown through another portal.

This incident landed her on Earth 616, where she quickly encountered the local versions of Victor and Pietro.

Despite the initial shock and adjustment, Sarah adapted swiftly.

She approached Victor and with a familiarity and trust informed by her experiences on Earth 295.

Victor, is touched by her attachment to the jacket the variant of him wore on Earth 295, which she keeps as a memento.

It symbolizes not just her past but her ongoing connection to him, regardless of the universe. Their relationship is evolving, marked by a deepening mutual respect and an unspoken promise to protect and support each other.

As Sarah's story unfurled, halting Victor in his tracks, he turned fully to face her, his brow furrowed deeply, digesting each heavy detail she laid bare. His posture, usually guarded and imposing, softened subtly as he listened to her recount the trials of another world—a version of him she had relied on.

"Logan died... blew up a Weapon X facility, took it down with him... We—me and the other you—we joined up with the Exiles... You wanted to be better," Sarah began, her voice catching slightly with the weight of the memories. "Fang tried to test your resolve, got a bunch of folks killed, used your hands to do it. Tried to play it off like it was your fault...used Logan as an excuse for it... pissed me off... I kinda lost it on him, got in a decent right hook before you pulled me off... got him to apologize, admit he messed up... Thought everything was fine for awhile after that... mission to mission..."

She trailed after Victor, her voice growing softer, laden with confusion and loss. "I don’t know what happened... we got separated... he... you... always come for me... I waited... there’s only one way you wouldn’t find me... I got mixed up with some stupid idea of Fang’s... got thrown through a portal... everywhere I go, the first person I look for is you..."

Stopping, Victor turned to her, his expression a mixture of concern and a hard-won softness that few ever saw. He reached out, his hand resting reassuringly on her shoulder, grounding her in the now.

"Kid, I...” Victor paused, his usual gruffness tinged with a rare gentleness. “I ain’t him. But I’m here, right? And I ain’t goin' anywhere. You ain’t gotta face nothin' alone anymore.”

Meeting his gaze, Sarah found a solace that only his steadfast presence could offer. A slight smile, both grateful and relieved, crossed her face. “Thanks, Vic. That means... it means everything. I know you’re not him. But you’re you, and that’s plenty.”

A rare smile broke through Victor’s usually stern demeanor, warming his rugged features. “Let's keep it that way. We look out for each other, yeah? No matter what damn universe we’re dealin' with.”

As Victor began to turn away, ready to head back to the group, Sarah reached out quickly, her fingers gently grasping his hand, halting his departure. Her touch was light but firm, ensuring she had his full attention once more. Victor paused, his motion stopped by her grip, turning to face her fully.

"I mean it, you're enough, who you are, how you are, you're you and that's what matters to me..." Her voice was earnest, her eyes locked onto his with a sincerity that cut through any remaining barriers.

Victor's eyes softened, the rugged lines around them easing as he absorbed her words. He was not a man accustomed to such direct expressions of acceptance and appreciation, especially not for simply being himself. The usual gruffness that colored his speech seemed to mellow just a bit as he responded.

"Sarah, that... that means a lot." His voice was low, almost hesitant, as if he was unaccustomed to such vulnerability. "Ain’t often someone says something like that to me and means it. You got a way of making the hard stuff seem not so bad."

He squeezed her hand gently in return, affirming the connection, the significance of the moment not lost on him.

"Guess we're both stuck with me then," he added, a hint of his usual rugged humor returning.

Sarah chuckled softly, her smile brightening her face, easing the intensity of the moment. "I wouldn’t have it any other way, Vic."

Releasing his hand, she took a step back, giving him space, yet her presence remained close, supportive. "Let’s get back to it, then. Got work to do."

[probablynotasquid]

silence, at long last.

cw: blood, gore, existentialism, starvation + dehydration, being trapped in a stinky dungeon

ft. diluc ragnvindr (probably ooc tbh but oh well)

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The dungeon was damp and dirty. The unsettling smell of wet stone mingled with rotting wood and mould. Every little sound echoed off the dark walls through the row of empty cells. You were terribly alone.

Mondstadt was the city of freedom, and as such, had a fairly lax judicial system. Ever since the abolishment of the aristocracy, the dungeons had been left unused. Until now.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Heavy footsteps came closer and closer. Your heart rate spiked, but you made no move to lift your head. You stayed limp against the cell wall. Anticipation and anxiety congealed in the atmosphere and bore down on your tired body. You were so tired.

What time was it? What day was it? How long had you been down here? You didn’t know, and didn’t have the energy to care. The Knights of Favonius had broken you. You knew too much, they said. You had cursed knowledge that the people of Teyvat should have never been exposed to.

Why did you open your mouth?

Click. Click. Click.

The clunky clank of the cell’s metal key sliced through the silence. It was a struggle, you figured, to use a lock that had long rusted over and deteriorated. Alas, there were no other options. Someone like you must be held and hidden from the public, lest your otherworldly knowledge taint the unsuspecting.

Black boots stepped into view of your half-lidded eyes. You didn’t dare look up. You knew who those boots belonged to, and he was one of the most dangerous and powerful people you would ever be on the bad side of.

Diluc Ragnvindr. The man you had bumped into that fateful night. The man who had graciously hosted you for days, as you had nowhere to go. The man you had spent weeks building from the moment you pulled him.

There was no special connection. There was no understanding. Instead, you blabbered at the wrong time to the wrong person. You longed to tell someone about your predicament, and you trusted him with your life.

Now, your life was dropped into the abusive hands of the Knights, despite his obvious distaste for them. If you had known that this is where you would end up—wasting away in a claustrophobic room with only the company of your regrets—you would have held your tongue.

“I presume you know why I’m here.”

You did. You were dreading it since you heard the guards murmuring about it. You didn’t know how long it had been since then, but it felt like months left alone to stew in dread and misery. Perhaps that was the point, really. To make you suffer more than you already had.

Diluc hummed at your silence. The condescending sound bounced around in your head the same way it reverberated through the dungeon. You were tired.

“Look up.”

You obeyed. Through bleary eyes and greasy hair, you saw the blood-red hair you had once grown to admire so much. It looked so soft. Even now, you wished you could brush it for him.

You ruined everything.

“Master Diluc,” you croaked, throat dry and hoarse, “I didn’t mean to–”

“Enough.”

He detested the way his name rolled off your tongue as if you had said it millions of times. As if you two were familiar. As if you truly cared for him.

You were nothing but a reminder of his existential conflict.

Only days ago, you had revealed your knowledge of the world. Of him. It sparked immeasurable amounts of questions without answers and frustration without relief. He was nothing but a puppet for you to entertain yourself with. Everything that had happened to him was for some sick person’s entertainment.

Spite burned deep within him, scorching his lungs. He could hardly breathe. You were a danger to this society. To him.

You made him experience all that trauma. You forced him to become the man he was today. You killed his father. You made his brother a threat to Mondstadt. You were the sole cause of his lifelong suffering.

Nobody deserved to suffer in the same way he had. Nobody needed to know the truth behind their existence. He would make sure that your knowledge would never leech into the peace of the city.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Blood poured from your mouth. It ran down your chin and down your throat. You coughed and heaved, repulsed and devastated by the horrid feeling.

Your mouth felt empty. It felt full. Your jaw hung open as blood oozed from your wound. It was that or swallowing it. You didn’t know which was worse.

In Diluc’s gloved hands was your tongue. Severed cleanly with a sharp blade, held in his opposite grip. It was a mercy that he hadn’t slain you already. Instead, he merely stole the one thing you had in this world.

The air reeked of iron. You were so horribly tired.

You were released a day later. Thrown outside the city walls, spat on and beaten. You ran the best you could. Half-starved, dehydrated, and stiff, you clambered away from the City of Wind and Freedom. No longer could you greet passers-by. No longer could you convey your emotions.

No longer could you hurt those that you love.

tags: @reiluvbot @deescreamsintotheabyss @irethepotato​ (sorry bout this lovelies hhhh please tell me if there's any themes you don't want to be tagged with so i don't upset you <333)

[raggaraddy]

your writing is amazing 🥺

could i ask for a yoongi version of the reader being shot because of them? your other ones are so good!!!

Family affairs

@dramaclub-thin

A/N: Thank you, sweetheart! I'm glad you're enjoying the series. This one has a bit of OT7 and I hope you like it too. 💜💜💜

If anyone else wants to request, you can here.

Other parts:

Namjoon

Jimin

Taehyung

Jungkook

Summary: You'd tried so hard to hide your relationship with Yoongi from your father. You knew when he found you were dating someone from a rival club that he'd kill you. You just didn't think it would be literal.

Trigger warnings: Violence, Filicide, Blood, gun usage.

Yoongi

Mafia! Yoongi

Mafia! BTS

"Yes Daddy," you poke your head through the door to his office with a little knock. Normally you would never bother your father while he was working, but one of your brothers came to your room to let you know he was calling for you.

"Ah, Darling. Yes, have a seat." He stands up from his desk, gesturing to the chair ahead of him. "I need your advice on something."

For a moment you get a flutter in your stomach. He never asks you for anything. Your his pretty princess on a pedestal. And he never involves you in anything that a woman wouldn't have been responsible for in the 1950s.

"Of course," you smile, shifting comfortably.

"I know you're tech-savvy, so maybe you can explain this to me. I had some photos printed, but I think there must be something wrong with the camera. Have a look,"

Reaching into his desk drawer as he speaks he pulls out a stack of A4 photos. As he lays them out your eyes jump straight back up at him. Checking for his reaction, a sharp pang of absolute fear hitting you. They're pictures of you and Yoongi, his arm around you when you were coming out of the Bangtan clubhouse.

"I know the camera has to be faulty, because that" he tapes your image, "looks like you. And I know my one and only daughter wouldn't be socializing with those Bulletproof scum."

"Daddy, I-I," you stutter with no idea what to say.

You thought you were so clever, so careful that there was no way he'd ever find out. Even when Yoongi would worry about you possibly being caught you would shrug it off. Your love was invincible and meant to be, and you were smart. No chance your family would ever know you're with Yoongi, and no way his family would ever know you were from a rival gang. As far as they knew, you were just Y/n Brown, the hairdresser from one district over.

But clearly, you weren't careful or clever enough.

Your stark silence is loud enough for your father and he nods a sombre confirmation. "How long Y/n?" He questions.

"Daddy, I don't-"

"How long?!" He's quick to anger, making you jump.

"A few months," you lie, your eyes dropping to your lap. Telling him it's been closer to 18 months is only going to enrage him further.

Slumping back into his office chair he lets out a heavy sigh.

"You think you raise your kids right. To know loyalty and family." He derides looking at you fiercely. "But then you find out your own daughter will open her legs for any cretin. In complete disregard of everything she should know."

You knew it would be awful if he ever found out, you know he is a terrifying dangerous man, but hearing your father's derogatory comments are harder to take than you ever expected.

"What did you tell them?" He sits forward. His demeanour, his expression going from disappointed father to cold mafioso.

Your mouth going dry, you swallow hard. Shaking your head softly. "Nothing."

"Bullshit!" He yells. "You expect me to believe they just let the daughter of Bastille get all cosy with one of the 7 without you giving up something."

This is so bad. You knew your parents, your brothers, the entire Bastille would disown you for this, but they'll actually kill you if they think you've sold them out.

"No. I didn't tell them anything. None of them knows who I am. Only Yoongi knows. And I didn't tell him shit. You know I wouldn't." You defend yourself trying to reign in your distress.

"Well, there's a lot of things I wouldn't think a daughter of mine could do." His voice is so detached. He's stopped looking at you. This is so so bad.

"Dad. I didn't say anything." You restate, fighting to convince him. Feeling like you're trying to prove the case for your own life. "I know the rules. Don't talk to anyone. Not cops. Not friends or enemies." You repeat the words that had been drilled in your entire childhood. You knew nothing, you saw nothing. Those are the rules.

"I don't believe you." He says bitterly.

Your hands are trembling, you're panting heavily. You know being with a rival club member is a stupid thing, but the clubs are in a truce.  And despite your father's opinion, you would never be so stupid as to actually say anything. And Yoongi would never let you, even if you decided to. You did one thing wrong, but you made sure you did everything else right.

Leaning back, he opens his phone book. Searching for a number.

"Dad," You plead for his attention. Raising the phone to his ear he shushes you, placing a finger over his mouth.

You have no idea what to do. You've seen him decimate people for so much less than what he's accusing you of. You don't know how to prove your innocence.

The call answers and you can hear a distant 'hello'.  Putting the phone on speaker he puts the receiver down.

"Warren L/n here. I believe I have something of yours," he says.

"What are you talking about?" You inhale a staggered breath, hearing the familiar gruff voice of Kim Namjoon.

Your dad's plan was simple. If you were telling the truth about Bangtan not knowing who you were, their leader would be confused and concerned that you were with the leader of Bastille. But if they knew who you were, this would be a much more straightforward issue. Namjoon would understand right away why he was calling.

And if you were lying about one thing, he could assume you were lying about more.

"Say hello Y/n." Your dad prompts, his look daring you to refuse.

"Hi," You squeak, nervously chewing the inside of your cheek. Your own safety aside, Namjoon was going to kill Yoongi.

There's a brief pause. The background noise on Namjoon's side disappearing. "Kidnapping women? I didn't realise you were handling that personally now."

"Who said kidnap?" he leads the conversation.

"Then maybe you want to explain what one of our girls is doing with you?" Namjoon growls, sounding protective.

That was enough confirmation for your father. The leader didn't know what was going on. But he was about to.

On Namjoons side of the line, he was pacing back and forth in a closed meeting room at the entrance of the clubhouse. Your father was revealing the secret that you and Yoongi had fought so hard to keep.

The phone call ending, Namjoon was in a rage. Marching across the bar he stormed at the table with other members around it. His maddened expression drawing Yoongi's attention. But the older member didn't have any reason to think this fury was directed at him and so he doesn't react quick enough as Namjoon punches him in the face, knocking him from his chair.

The other boys instantly becoming alert, Jungkook jumps to Namjoons side holding his arm out in front of him, looking ready to intervene. Jimin standing between the floored Yoongi and the enraged leader.

"Hyung, what the hell ar-" Jimin snaps.

"You fucking idiot! Bastille's daughter?!" he roars trying to push through Jimin. Jungkook stepping in to help keep him at bay.

Climbing back to his feet, nursing a split lip, Yoongi's eyes go wide. Completely caught off guard by Namjoon's revelation. "How did you-" he gapes.

"Everything she's seen, everything she knows! Do you have any idea how much you've exposed this club?" He lunges again, bowling the mediating members out of the way. Diving through Yoongi, the two men trade blows as they scuffle on the floor.

The scene quickly gets out of hand, and as Yoongi throws Namjoon through a table, Jin and Hoseok come from a backroom to step in also. The four of them now working to pry the two battling men apart. Jimin and Hoseok holding back Yoongi. The oldest and youngest members trying to keep Namjoon at bay.

"Enough!" Jin scolds with a firm shove to Namjoon's chest. "Someone explain what the hell is going on!"

"Just Suga thinking with his dick, instead of his brain." Namjoon spits.

Shirking off the boys, Yoongi barges forward infuriated by the provocative comment. War breaking out again with a solid hit at Namjoon, a gash opening over his eye. Another difficult struggle beginning for the members, grappling and clawing them apart. Having to fully restrain them to have them stop. Being held as they bleed.

Grabbing both of them by the collar, Jin demands their focus. "The next man who throws a punch leaves here with a bullet in his leg!" He growls. "Am I clear?!" His fist tightens, stiffening their necklines.

"Yes,"

"Yes, Hyung."

The two of them conceded, their energy dropping as their eldest releases them. "Good. Now sit down so we can talk this shit out."

It takes several minutes and a round of drinks, but the room calms down enough for the members to sit down. They send the few 2nd levels out and the 95's girlfriends. The bar remaining with only the 7 original members. Taehyung coming back just as the disclosure began.

Namjoon starts, passing along the information your father had given him. The 6 of them all sharing disappointed, worried or angry glances towards Yoongi.

"She wouldn't have said anything." Yoongi insists, after explaining his side also. Trying to defend his decision. To defend you.

"You can't know that," Jimin argues, flumping back in his seat. Taking a sip with a pissed-off scowl on his face.

"Yeah, we've all been pussy blinded before. You're not thinking clearly." Jungkook snips.

"Maknae-" Yoongi warns. Getting tired of the disrespect that keeps getting thrown his way.

"Hey, watch it." Jin interrupts, correcting Jungkook's blunt attitude. The youngest shrugging, downing the last of his drink.

"Look, if she was giving information to L/n, then why would he call to tell you that he knows." Yoongi disputes. Hoping to bring reason back into the debate.

"He wants to trade. The latest shipment of horse for Y/n." Namjoon answers with a frustrated scoff and a roll of his eyes.

"That's close to 500 K. That's not happening," Hoseok jumps in. The rest of them firmly nodding in agreement.

"Okay, but if that's the case. If he's trying to sell her off, that means she's not working with him. Right?" Taehyung backs Yoongi's point.

"Idiot," Jimin shoves his friend, "It could be a part of the plan. A way to rip us off for half a million."

"Or it could be a set-up," Namjoon adds. "Let's say Hyung's right, and she isn't working with her old man. If we're willing to sit down, if we try to buy her back, it confirms that she knows enough that we're concerned about it."

"I'm telling you, she doesn't know anything. She didn't want to know anything. And even if she did, she's not gonna give it up." Again Yoongi vehemently defends you.

"Well if she doesn't give him anything then L/n kills her." Namjoon finalizes. "To hurt the club, and as retribution for her betrayal."

"What I don't understand is why you would let her go back? If you trust her and you know how ruthless Bastille is, why would you let her keep going back to him?" Jin asks, genuinely baffled.

Standing up Yoongi can't take anymore. He's furious. He's upset. At himself most of all. Feeling to blame for allowing you to be in this situation, he leaves in anger. Needing some time to himself to think.

"I don't know, she seemed pretty cool," Taehyung mutters, leaning into Namjoon. "You don't really think he would kill his own daughter, right?"

It's been 2 days and you've been locked in an empty storage shed at the edge of the property like a captive. Your father turned your world upside down looking for information. His people went through your computer, your phone, your car, your room. Everything that was yours he and his men had raided. And just like you said, there was nothing there. No information about Bastille, and nothing about Bangtan.

"Suga. I'm guessing that's Min Yoongi? Unless you're cheating on him." Your dad muses holding up your phone. That is so humiliating. So many nudes and dirty texts are in that chat. There may not be revealing information, but there was still plenty of personal stuff.

"You know Darling, I don't like to admit when I am wrong, but it looks like you were telling the truth. I can't find any proof that you gave up any family details." He smiles softly, your heart lifting with relief for a moment. "But then I was looking through your camera roll and, in the pictures where you actually have clothes on, it's just full of Bangtan." He comes further into the empty shed, leaning on the wall alongside you. Showing you the screen as he scrolls through. The only entrance being blocked by one of his more grizzly looking men. "See here, there's you and a bunch of them at a restaurant. There's you and the leader. You and the crazy one. Here's a family-style photo, isn't that nice."

He keeps scrolling through shot after shot, exhibiting an entire album full of Bangtan family pictures.

"I'm sure you never expected anyone else to see these. I guess I should have been teaching you not to put the same password for multiple devices." He scoffs. "But the interesting thing, when I'm going through these photos you seem to be really close with all of them. Some of these even go back to last year. Which makes the timeline you gave me a little off."

He shows the details of one of the pictures to you, the time stamp from when you had already been with Yoongi for 6 months.

"This one is from May 2nd. Last year. On the 10th those bastards stole one of my shipping containers. With nearly 100 grand worth of merchandise. Did you know about that?"

"You mean people." You sneer, his characterization of human trafficking as 'merchandise' making your skin crawl.

"So you did know." He smiles coldly.

"I found out- I knew after," you justify. Even as you continue to defend yourself, you have a sick feeling that it's all for nothing.

"I'm really curious what else you know." He hums, walking around the front of you to get back into your eye line.

"I don't know anything," you tell him for the 1000th time with an exasperated shake of your head. Moving away to the far side of the shed.

"Darling, I'm your father and I'm telling you we need to reconcile this. Your mother is worried sick. I'm here losing sleep over this. I'm giving you a chance to repay all the damage you've done. A chance to forget all this. You tell me everything you know about Bangtan, and just like that," he snaps his fingers, "you get to return to your comfortable life."

You don't trust his change in tone or his promises for a minute. You may not have known the darkest parts of who he is, but that's how you can be sure that his offer to forgive and forget is rubbish. Not even the father in him would let you forget a mistake. Especially one this major, not with the way he is reacting. And he's so much more brutal when it comes to Bastille.

"And if I don't?"

"Then you've betrayed your family. And we'll find out what we want to know in other ways." he taps the back of his hand in the other, symbolizing a beat down.

You shake your head hard. You might love your dad. But you don't like him. You've known for most of your life that he was a bad guy. And Yoongi, Bangtan, they might not be the good guys, but they've been the family you've always wanted. There is no way you were telling him even the most insignificant detail.

"Hit me all you want dad, I still don't know anything." You snarl.

"I could never hit my own daughter." He taps his heart, a feigned pained expression on his face. Nodding his head in your direction, he trades places with his man who advances on you.

Breathing hard you step back only to hit the wall.

The tall, square-built man swings. The back of his hand slapping your cheek, the force so strong that it smacks you into the corner sidewall. His hand, like a vice, grabs ahold of your head and mightily slams it into the steel beam running down the sheet metal wall. Pushing your hands against his chest, you weakly attempt to fend him off, but he ends your efforts with another solid wack against the frame.

As blood streams down your head, his focus switches. The majority of his attacks landing on your torso.

With you curled up on the floor, wheezing and gasping for breath, the assault finally stops. But not out of mercy. Even through the ringing in your ears, you can hear the outburst of gunfire in the distance.

Both your dad and his man rush out, leaving you locked away. While it's for an equally terrifying reason, you're thankful to have this time to catch your breath. Although every laborious intake brings agony.

After some time, light floods back into the room, your father standing in the doorway outlined by the setting sun. "I'm sorry Darling. If I had to do this, I hoped it would be a bit more ceremonious. But we don't have the time for that now."

You gasp at him raising his gun at you. He shoots three times. One in your chest, one in your shoulder and one in your stomach.

The shock, the impact takes the breath from you. And you can't draw it back in. Your eyes glassing over, your head filled with nothing but white noise. Feeling a fleeting moment of relief as everything goes quiet and dark.

"Fuck. No!" Yoongi howls. He, Jin and two 2nd ranks had chased after your father as he fled.

Bangtan's siege on his property was highly successful till that point, and he had run downhill to the storage garage. Looking to make a getaway.

The other's continue after him as Yoongi stumbles into you. His steely outer shell crumbling away the moment he sees your body limp and bleeding out.

Falling beside you he leans over shaking and in tears. Kissing your lips gently with heartfelt pleas "I'm sorry Y/n. I'm so sorry. Please don't do this. Please."

Jin doubles back, watching distraught from the entrance as his brother falls apart.

Lifting your head up, Yoongi brings your forehead to his. The movement making you splutter blood. The first sign of life that either of the men had seen.

"Holy fuck, she's alive." Jin gawks, jumping in beside Yoongi pressing on the hole in your stomach. The bullet in your shoulder and chest had both hit bone, stopping the slug from going through, blocking the wounds from severe blood loss. The bullet in your torso shot through your bowls and thankfully not through your vital organs. Meaning your chances of survival were much higher. It was either 3 highly unlucky shots or three precisely placed ones.

"I'm so sorry Y/n." Yoongi's in shock. Devastated and guilt-ridden, and unable to make himself function.

"Dude, get your shit together or she's not gonna make it." Jin smacks the side of his brothers head, snapping him out of his grief-stricken daze.

"Can you save her?" He asks rubbing the tears from his eyes.

"Not a chance. But I can keep her alive for a minute until we get to the clubhouse. Call the doc, tell him to meet us there." Jin orders, having much more clarity at this moment. "And get the boys to bring the car around. We're going to need a few of us to move her."

Yoongi follows Jin's lead, wiping the blood from his hands onto his pants to dial.

"Think of it this way," Jin smiles shortly, trying to soothe Yoongi's fear and panic with an ill-timed joke. "If she survives, at least she'll have proved she's Bangtan."

[writing-fanics]

(Rody Soul x Fem!Reader)

(I’m Sorry) (Part II)

(Summary: Being known as the smartest person in the work because of a quirk is hard, and to be used to engineer bombs with the life of her sickly sister on the line is even harder.)

The sounds of a hospital were all too familiar for (Y/n). The constant beeping of the heart monitor, the constant ringing of outgoing and incoming calls. The sound of hurried footsteps outside the door every five seconds. As well the sinking feeling that every passing moment; was ticking closer and closer to her sister death.

Why did their parents leave me? Leave them to fend for themselves, to struggle in a world that doesn’t care about the orphaned youth. A world who see parentless children as a waste of space. But (Y/n) made sure she provided for her sister; working a dead end job just to barely pay off hospital expenses.

Working day and night; not having time to even take care of herself. Working herself to the bone. While putting on hold her dream to be a doctor. All that mattered was, Kia. Her little sister. Well also (Y/n)’s boyfriend, Rody. Who also had a little brother and sister.

But despite being the smartest person in the world. Because of her quirk. She was still forced into some shady business, like being forced to work for Humarise if she wanted her sister to survive. With the life of her sister on the line, she had to take the job.

At the young age of fourteen, she helped develop the Humarise bombs. Getting money on the side and being told, to keep her mouth shut. She hated it being forced to use her quirk for bad. She didn’t dislike the hero’s nor had a grudge against them. But this job of making bombs to steal cleanse the world of people with quirks was sickening and she wanted no part of it.

(Present Time)

(Y/n) stared down at her hands trembling, she wanted to punch herself in the face. These hands helped create a bomb that’s going to kill millions of people with quirks. Men, women, and children. If her parents hadn’t left them none of this would’ve happened. She wouldn’t be forced to work for Humarise just to help save her little sister, who’s lying in a hospital bed waiting for her big sister return.

And Rody wherever he is right now, what if he founds out? He’ll hate her for this, his father left his family cause he was working for Humarise. Rody and his brother and sister, were casted out from society treated like outcasts. What if the doctor’s and nurses find out her sister, will be kicked out of the hospital. She’ll die!

(Y/n) stared at her phone, seeing all the news going on about Humarise. Izuku Midoryia, on the run because he’s accused of killing twelve people. She knew he’d never do something like that, having been watching anything that has to do with hero’s in Japan.

As well her boyfriend was mixed into all this mess, and she knew it was only a matter of time before he finds out about her association. Her life was crumbling apart before but now it seems more relevant. The life of her boyfriend was at stake her sister everyone she cared about, and she’s never felt more helpless now.

“Oh, Rody.” She whispered. Tears brimming no her eyes hugging her knees to her chest. Staring blankly at her phone.

“Let’s go.” Beros said, to her. (Y/n) stood to her feet looking at her, “Why?” (Y/n) asked, and then she noticed Rogone. Walking towards the helicopter, “We found the case.” Beros said.

(Y/n)’s heart stopped, “No,” she whispered. Her hands began to sweat her entire body shaking, all the things needed to stop the bomb and find them were in that case. She shuddered, under her breath trying her best to stay calm.

“Rody, you idiot.” She mumbled.

(Time Skip)

“Y/n?” Rody said, aghast. Seeing his girlfriend stand there next to Beros. Both (Y/n) and Rody’s heart ached, she couldn’t speak not saying a single word.

“Y-You,” Rody mumbled. Rogone came walking towards him, “Where’s your friend?” Rogone asked, Rody backed away fearfully as he got closer.

“W-We don’t know anything!” Rody shouted. Rogone didn’t listen continuing to get closer to him, transforming into a monster with iron clubs as hands.

Rody’s face twisted with fear jn his eyes, he fell to his feet. “Please my little brother and sister are waiting for me!” He pleaded.

“Please let me go home!” He shouted. Before Rogone could attack Deku came and saved him. (Y/n) let out a quiet sigh of relief, but it wasn’t long lasted she was told to help fight. She couldn’t bring herself too. She won’t she couldn’t.

Not him

She grabbed the case and threw it over towards, Deku and Rody. Who were both in shock. She wasn’t going to let them boss her around anymore. Despite the fact her sister was young, she’d want her to do the right thing.

………………….

He felt sick to his stomach. The girl he’s loved for almost the past two years, has been working with the people who ruined his family. Taking his father away to work as their engineer for the bombs. How could she do this to him?

Hearing her name in the recording of the video. Heartbreak, shock, sadness, and betrayal were all the emotions he felt. She worked with them? How? How could she?!

There was another video.

“My name is Y/n Ricard. I’m an engineer for the Humarise Quirk Trigger Bomb. Humarise found out about me due to my smarts, because of my quirk. I worked with Alan Kay and Eddie Soul. I never wanted to be apart of this, I was forced though because the life of my little sister was at stake. And possibly the life of my other loved ones.”

(Y/n) looked down, “I’m disappointed in myself and will accept the consequences whatever they may be.” She sighs. Closing her eyes and wiping away the tears, “I don’t care what happens to me anymore, but if any hero’s are watching this. Please take care of my little sister if something happens.” She said.

“I-If somehow your watching this Rody. I’m sorry I don’t expect you to forgive me. I don’t expect you to love me anymore after this.” She mumbles. She looks up at the camera tears in her eyes.

“I’m sorry goodbye.”

The video ended. Tears brimmed his eyes, Pino sat on the top of Rody’s head tears streaming down her cheeks.

[robininthelabyrinth]

🧿🤠🐇🍲🍯: Lan Wangji does not think it’s safe to raise A-Yuan in Cloud Recesses after the Lans participated in the killing of his zhiji and the entire Burial Mounds community (or more accurately that it’s not safe while he himself is in seclusion and can’t watch over A-Yuan, at least) so he delivers A-Yuan to the one person who he knows did not stand against Wei Wuxian (and got away with it, bc this person has never stood against anything, since standing takes effort): Nie Huaisang.

Little Side Door - ao3

Nie Huaisang’s rooms in the Unclean Realm had a little side door that no one but him ever used.

They hadn’t originally. The Unclean Realm was a fortress, designed to maximize protection and defense; there was no better place for keeping things safe by locking them away. While it had its fair share of boltholes and escape routes, they were not common and universally difficult to access lest the enemy learn of them and use them to their advantage. Even the layout of their open spaces were carefully planned lest the attack come from the sky, a concern that only cultivators had, and not about how they themselves could escape – after all, weren’t they all Nie, ready to die rather than endure dishonor?

The little side door that led to Nie Huaisang’s room opened onto a small rock garden, left to grow wild with weeds rather than reveal its presence to more people. It existed only because his brother had ordered it constructed by those he trusted most, all in secret in the dark of the night. He had never explained why he had gone to such lengths to create such an unwelcome and inauspicious place, but then, he hadn’t needed to – Nie Huaisang had been there, too, when his father had descended into madness and they had been trapped in the familial quarters with no way out that did not take them through him. If his brother had been the one to brave his father’s rage directly, Nie Huaisang had been the one stuck in a small space that was only not claustrophobic because it was so painfully familiar.

Now, though his father was long dead and gone, Nie Huaisang had a little side door.

A little side door, and a little garden that almost no one knew about; in combination with the saber that his brother forced him to learn and the golden core he had so begrudgingly formed, he now had a way to reach the sky and the illusive freedom it represented – the freedom to flee and leave his home behind.

If it ever happens again – his brother had said once, the closest he had ever come to speaking of it.

He did not finish his sentence, as Nie Huaisang had thrown his plate into his face and stormed off, steaming mad and close to tears. He did not raise the subject a second time.

Nie Huaisang did not often use his little side door.

Although he enjoyed gardens, he preferred the aviary he’d constructed, or one of the myriad of well-tended gardens in the main part of the sect; even the vegetable gardens out back beside the kitchens were far more welcoming than that sparse straggle of land. He’d only ever spent time there when he was a child and in desperate need of some quiet, wanting to avoid adults with their arguments and their miseries; he’d taken some friends there because he thought it might impress them, but it hadn’t, and anyway his brother had put a stop to that soon enough.

He didn’t even think about the little side door, most days. It was just a part of the room, a small tucked away corner with nothing in it. Nothing to think about.

And then, of course, years after he’d put it out of his mind entirely, there came a terrible banging noise at that little side door, like someone was kicking at it furiously from the outside.

Nie Huaisang nearly fell over sideways in his scramble to get up, and then once again when he realized where the noise was coming from – almost no one knew about his side door and its little garden, and so no one had ever come to him through it. Who would be knocking now…?

He opened it.

Lan Wangji, white robes stained with blood and cheeks bright with fever, shoved something into his arms. “You have a child now,” he said through bitten lips. “Congratulations. He is called A-Yuan. I entrust you with his care, for my sect cannot be trusted with it.”

And then he turned and staggered away, mounting up on Bichen and flying off before Nie Huaisang could say anything – before he could even finish searching his memories and recalling that yes, in fact, Lan Wangji had been one of the friends he had shown the side door to, years and years before, and thus knew how to find it. Before he could even start processing the thousands of thoughts that had spring to life, fully formed, at all the information he’d just received: the bloody robes, the desperation, the reference to the Lan sect – the Lan sect! – being somehow untrustworthy…

He looked down at his arms.

“Congratulations,” he echoed blankly. “I have a child now.”

The child blinked up at him, and then smiled.

-

“Da-ge!” Nie Husiang howled, rushing into the sect leader’s study where his brother was doing work – luckily it wasn’t receiving hours and he wasn’t in the main hall, as that would have been unfortunate. “Da-ge, you have to help me! I have a child now!”

His brother stared at him, expression blank and mouth slightly agape. The brush in his hand dripping ink onto a now-wasted piece of paper.

“Huaisang,” he said after a moment. “What the fuck.”

Nie Huaisang nodded furiously.

“Where did you get – how – who – what did you do?!”

“I am currently unable to disclose any details,” Nie Huaisang said promptly even as his brother tossed aside the brush and got up, striding over with a storm brewing in his face. “All I can say is that I have to raise this child now. By which I mean, you have to help me raise this child now; I can’t raise children! I’m not mature enough to raise a child!”

“No kidding! Why would someone entrust – to you…” Nie Mingjue trailed off, looking down at the child with a frown that shifted from disbelieving irritation to concern. He pressed his hand to the child’s forehead. “Huaisang, this child has a high fever. We need to get him to the medical wing at once – is that blood?”

“Not his, I don’t think?”

“I don’t want to know,” his brother decided. “Move.”

Some time later, they were both sitting next to the bed in one of the spare rooms in the family quarters; Nie Huaisang thought it might even have been the same one that he’d used when he was very young. A-Yuan was sleeping, and Nie Mingjue was still holding his little hand in his own, having been clocked as the oversize comfort animal that he not-so-secretly was from the very first moment A-Yuan laid eyes on him.

The doctors had declared A-Yuan’s fever to be very severe, but they had applied plenty of medicine – the Lan sect might have more esoteric healing techniques, but there wasn’t anything like the Nie sect when it came to standard medicine for injuries and illnesses associated with the battlefield, and despite A-Yuan’s tender age Nie Huaisang would be willing to bet that his injuries were from a battlefield. They were confident that A-Yuan would make a full recovery, body and mind both intact, although they warned that his memory of the past might be impacted.

Nie Huaisang had thought about all that blood that wasn’t his, of Lan Wangji pale-faced and wild-eyed, and decided that a little bit of forgetting might not be so bad after all.

“Are you going to tell me anything more,” his brother said after a while. “Or should I just give up now?”

Nie Huaisang leaned over and patted his knee. “It’s good that you know your limitations.”

His brother rolled his eyes.

“I can’t believe this is my life,” he remarked.

“What part?” Nie Huaisang asked, curious. “The fact that we have a kid now, because obviously we’re keeping him? Or the fact that someone gave a kid to me?”

“Both,” his brother decided. “Definitely both.”

-

“His name’s A-Yuan,” Nie Huaisang said. “Apparently.”

“Well,” his brother said. “Obviously that won’t do.”

-

Nie Huaisang had the ability to be sneaky when he wanted to be. It wasn’t a matter of stealth, he had explained to his brother, but sneakiness– a completely different concept. Stealth suggested that he was doing something to conceal himself and required skills and talent, or else a lot of practice, and obviously Nie Huaisang was not going to go in for either of those.

Sneakiness, though…

He didn’t need people not to be able to see him in order to be sneaky. He just needed them not to care about him, or wonder where he was.

“Psst,” he said, knocking on the window to the rooms where Lan Wangji was purportedly practicing seclusion. “Psst! Lan Zhan!”

Lan Wangji had given him a child. They were definitely past the ‘Lan-er-gongzi’ stage.

“Lan Zhan!” he rapped at the window with his fan. “We need a courtesy name!”

There was some sounds from within the jingshi, mostly stumbling around. Nie Huaisang waited patiently, and after a few moments the window opened and Lan Wangji stared out at him. He was as pale as a ghost with lips as red as blood, and very clearly not in seclusion at all, but rather in the midst of healing whatever wounds had left him bloody – he probably shouldn’t have gotten out of bed to answer.

Oh, well. Too late for regret now.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Lan Wangji said, voice dull and eyes blank as he stared at Nie Huaisang. It was unclear if he meant in the Cloud Recesses generally, or here in particular, interrupting his ‘seclusion’.

“Didn’t you hear me?” Nie Huaisang said, scowling at him. “We need a courtesy name! A courtesy name for the child, you hear me? You know, of course, that Qinghe Nie don’t use personal names, not even for children – certainlynot for children older than their first year. It’d be a complete giveaway that he’s not organically ours if we call him something like A-Yuan.”

Lan Wangji raised a hand to pinch his nose. “Please go away.”

“Courtesy name, Lan Zhan. I mean, I may be the one who’ll be raising him, but please think carefully: do you really want meto be the one naming him?”

“…call him Sizhui.”

“Sizhui,” Nie Huaisang repeated. “With the characters…?”

Lan Wangji nodded.

“Uh, no,” Nie Huaisang said. “I need a bettercourtesy name. Are you joking?”

“Nie Huaisang. Go away.”

“But –”

Lan Wangji slammed the window shut.

“…fine,” Nie Huaisang said to the closed window. “Be that way, see if I care. Not like we don’t need to build up a decent coparenting relationship or anything eventually.”

He thought he heard a choking sound from behind the door and smirked.

“Don’t you think you can baby-trap me and just walk away, Lan Zhan,” he said in his best ominous tone. “If you wanted someone to raise your kid without ever consulting you again, you should’ve dropped him off in the Lotus Pier with Jiang Cheng, who’d probably be too busy being confused to even question where he came frome – but no. You came to me. I don’t make decisions in the best of times, least of all good. I have questions. A lot of questions.”

He thought about it for a moment.

“Not about how you got him or anything like that,” he said. “I’m not stupid, I can tell a secret when I see one. But, you know, other types of questions. Parenting stuff. Are you a ‘go sit and think about what you’ve done’ sort of parent? Or more traditional discipline, with copying lines and occasionally strikes when they’re naughty? Do you want him to learn the Lan sect rules along with the Nie sect principles –”

There was a muffled sound from inside the house.

It sounded angry.

“…we can talk about it later,” Nie Huaisang decided. He might’ve pushed his luck a bit too much. “Talk later!”

-

“You have a…what?” Lan Xichen asked, his smile a little fixed and stare a little wilder than normal.

“A nephew!” Nie Mingjue gushed. “Isn’t he wonderful?”

“Nephew.”

“He’s so well behaved, too! He plays quietly by himself most of the time, drawing and even writing a little, and Huaisang’s already teaching him how to play the dizi –”

“When you say nephew, do you mean Nie Huaisang’s child?”

“Do I have other brothers?” Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes at him. “He’s obviously not yours. Anyway, I know Meng Yao is expecting one, too, but he wouldn’t be dressed in Nie colors if it was his, would it?”

“Yes, but…are you telling me that…that Nie Huaisang…”

“It’s a battlefield child, Xichen,” Nie Mingjue said patiently. “Obviously. Someone entrusted him to Huaisang.”

“Oh,” Lan Xichen said, looking relieved. “Yes, that makes more sense…wait.”

Nie Mingjue waited.

“Someone entrusted him to Nie Huaisang?”

“I know, right?” Nie Mingjue said, and Lan Xichen didn’t notice how strained his grin had suddenly become, or how thoughtful his eyes were as he surveyed Lan Xichen as if trying to find an answer to a question. “I would’ve assumed they’d go for someone more responsible, like you. Guess you never know…”

“I guess you don’t,” Lan Xichen agreed, looking down at the child with a bemused expression. A battlefield child, entrusted to Nie Huaisang… “They must have been truly driven to desperation.”

“Perhaps,” Nie Mingjue said, and then changed the subject to little Nie Sizhui’s accomplishments, of which he could list many at great length and very great enthusiasm. By the time he was done with that, Ln Xichen was so overwhelmed that he didn’t ask a single other question.

-

“So I’ve got an idea on how to do this whole co-parenting thing,” Nie Huaisang said, cracking nuts to eat. He was sitting next to Lan Wangji’s bedside, and dropping the shells straight on the floor, too, staring dead-eyed at Lan Wangji as if daring him to say something – which he wouldn’t, of course. “Since with Sizhui starting classes soon it’s become much more urgent, on account of me needing you to attend meetings with his teachers and discuss his progress.”

Lan Wangji looked deeply long-suffering. He’d only invited Nie Huaisang inside because Nie Huaisang had threatened to start shouting out his business loudly on account of oh but Lan Zhan, how was I to know if you could hear me in there, I just had to raise my voice just in case because I wouldn’t want you to miss any of the extremelyimportant news –

It was all Lan Wangji’s fault for being born earlier than Nie Huaisang, Nie Huaisang thought virtuously. It was merely Nie Huaisang’s lot in life to fulfill the role of annoying younger brother to everyone.

“See, it’s the music,” Nie Huaisang continued. “You do music, right?”

Lan Wangji’s ice-cold glare suggested that he did, in fact, ‘do music’.

“So your brother has been playing this song for da-ge on a regular basis,” Nie Huaisang explained, ignoring the glare entirely. “And when he’s not available, which is most of the time nowadays, he’s been sending san-ge instead. Even though, of course, poor san-ge’s so busy back at Lanling all the time…ughh, it’s so unfair, you know! Poor san-ge has to do all the work of being the heir and gets none of the benefits, and they pile even more work on him on top of that – really, he gets no respect.”

Lan Wangji’s expression suggested he didn’t care.

“And think about the inconvenience to us!” Nie Huaisang sallied forth, undeterred. “People coming and going all the time, da-ge having to interrupt his schedule of spending quality time with me and Sizhui – and sect leader work, of course, though that’s less important – in order to march over to greet them and host them and listen to them…what a pain it is!”

Lan Wangji appeared on the verge of suggesting that Nie Huaisang consider getting to the point.

“So you should come do it instead.”

Lan Wangji’s expression cracked, suggesting that Nie Huaisang had actually managed to make an impact.

“You remember,” he said, voice low and a little hoarse from all that refusing to speak he’d been doing. Really, if Nie Huaisang wasn’t around to goad him into it, he might’ve lost the voice entirely – he didn’t even have little Sizhui around to force him to speak! “That I’m in seclusion. Right?”

“You’re horribly lonely is what you are,” Nie Huisang said briskly. “You require company. Therefore, coming to take up a semi-permanent posting in the Unclean Realm to play the Song of Clarity for my brother morning, noon, and night is clearly the finest way to solve all of our problems, and for you to see little Sizhui as often as you like.”

Lan Wangji visibly wavered. “My brother,” he said, then coughed. “My brother will never believe it.”

“That’s your problem,” Nie Huaisang said. “Find a way to sell it.”

He stood, shaking the remaining shells onto the chair.

“See you in Qinghe soon, Lan Zhan..!”

Lan Wangji was trying to kill him with his mind, Nie Huaisang thought happily as he wandered off with a whistle and a vaguely silly expression. Good – he’d been inside for too long. He needed the stimulation.

-

“Truly,” Nie Mingjue remarked, strolling around their gardens without any apparent notice of the small child perched on his shoulders, giggling wildly at the feeling of being tall, “I feel far better than I did before! One can scarcely compare it – night and day, really. Your Lan sect’s Song of Clarity is a marvel, even if it does take a while before it kicks in.”

“Mm,” Lan Wangji said, walking slowly with his hands behind his back. He was still unsteady on his feet on account of the absolutely horrific injuries he’d incurred – but if the Lan sect’s response to everything was seclusion, seclusion, seclusion, then the Nie sect’s equivalent response was exercise. These little excursions through the gardens were the result.

Thus far, they were still only doing laps around the main gardens, but Nie Huaisang had plans to eventually force Lan Wangji to go even as far as his own little side garden. He’d made it through his side door once, after all; why not a second time..?

At any rate, Nie Huaisang still wasn’t quite sure how Lan Wangji had talked Lan Xichen into allowing him to come to the Unclean Realm, but it really did make the whole co-parenting business a lot more convenient. And his brother had had so much fun making Lan Wangji stiff and awkward over all his thanks and praise for his decision to come ‘help out’ with Nie Sizhui’s raising until finally, at last, Nie Huaisang had taken pity and revealed that Nie Mingjue knew perfectly well whose battlefield child this was.

Both in terms of who had gifted him to Nie Huaisang, and who’d adopted him originally, and of course even his original surname – The little tot’s been through enough adoptions to make anyone’s head spin, his brother had said, his voice gruff as always. There’s no point in thinking back too far, is there?

Lan Wangji had been very relieved.

“Run, bobo!” Nie Sizhui cried, pointing over at a bird. “We need to get it for Sang-gege!”

Nie Mingjue snorted like a bull but obediently quickened his feet and left the rest of them behind, heading in full charge straight at the wild pheasant that was far more likely to end up on Nie Huaisang’s plate than in his aviary. It was about even odds which one Nie Sizhui meant, anyway.

“Nie Huaisang,” Lan Wangji said, his voice low, and Nie Huaisang looked at him. “The Song of Clarity does not take time to work. These effects should have happened at once.”

Nie Huaisang opened his fan, hiding his face as he frowned. “How odd,” he said. “And after san-ge put in all that hard work.”

“Perhaps he played it wrong.”

“Odd,” Nie Huaisang said again. “When san-ge gets so very little wrong…has your brother sent any word on the Xue Yang issue?”

“…he has not.”

“He’s going to need to pick a side eventually.”

“He does not want to make things difficult for his sworn brother.”

“Does he have only the one?” Nie Huaisang asked archly, and Lan Wangji averted his gaze. “It’s awkward for us if he doesn’t back us, and is a bad look besides…truly, it’s a wonder that san-ge managed to squeeze out the time to come here.”

Lan Wangji’s frown deepened. “Indeed,” he said. “One would think his father might be tempted to stop him.”

“Wouldn’t you just?” Nie Huaisang said. “Wouldn’t you just…you know, maybe when you’re feeling better, we should go visit Lanling ourselves.”

Lan Wangji glanced at him, arching an eyebrow, and Nie Huaisang smiled, fanning himself casually.

“I’m not the only one with a little side door,” he said. “Let’s go knocking and see what we find, shall we?”

[one-sad-human]

•Pinky Promises• Steven Adler

Pairing: Steven Adler x Reader, Axl Rose x Sibling! Reader

Requested? Yup! By an anon

Theme: Angst(?) to fluff

Warnings: Language, sexual references but nothing explicit

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Fic 1 of 2! Hope you enjoy! Also, the makeout near the end gets sorta hot and it was pretty fun to write? Like I’m considering exploring into writing smutter pieces. I didn’t want to originally because I thought I’d cringe all the way through and hate the result but I might try it out in the near future. Nothing too crazy but it’s something for me to think about.

     You step off of the large bus, your combat boots hitting the ground as you adjust the bag slung over your shoulder. It's stuffed to the brim with whatever you threw in, you're surprised the zipper did burst.

     You take a deep breath of the LA air. It's hot and humid and despite the thick air pollution, you can breath easier than you did in Indiana.

     You grew up in Lafayette, Indiana with your older half-brother William. You were raised in the hellish house with your shared father, which you finally managed to escape.

     William left right at eighteen. He tried taking you with him, but you didn't want him to be charged with kidnapping and have the cops on his ass. Now, two years and your father's stolen wallet later, you're finally in the city of dreams.

     "Will!" You yell out, spotting your redheaded other half.

     "Y/N!" He mocks, catching your figure in a crushing hug. He's taller than you, so you have to stand on your tippy toes during the embrace. "Thank God you're alright."

     "I'm fine, I'm happy to finally see you again," you say, a huge grin on your face. "How's the band? Everything going well?"

     "Well enough," he says with a shrug, grabbing your heavy bag and slinging it around his shoulder. "Come on, I'll introduce you to the guys. You already know Izzy of course, but the rest of them."

     The walk to the 'hell house' as Will had called it is filled with catching up. He made sure to keep in contact with you, but the phone calls were always short. It felt nice to have a full length conversation in person with your brother again.

     "Welcome home," Will says, leading you into the house. You grimace when you catch a whiff of stale beer and weed.

     "You seriously live here? This place should be condemned," you say with disgust.

     "And then where would we live?" The oh-so familiar voice of Will's best friend meets your ears. You whip around and fly into his arms.

     "Jeffery! I missed you so much! You really should've tried calling, you ass!" You exclaim. Izzy rolls his eyes but smiles nonetheless, patting your back during the hug.

     "Who's this?" Another man enters the living room— if that's what it should even be called. He's blonde, taller than you but shorter than the other two men in the room. He has kind eyes and the smile he has on his handsome face leaves you speechless.

     "U-uh, hi. I'm Y/N," you say after a moment of shameless gawking. If he noticed, he doesn't mention it.

     "Oh that's right! Axl talks a lot about you! I'm Steven," he says and bounds up to you, catching your hand in a shake. You don't question who the hell 'Axl' is, but you smile stupidly at him and bite your lip with a blush staining your face.

     "No," Will says, glaring at the cute blonde you've taking an immediate liking to. "Absolutely not."

     "William!" You squeak out, pinching his shoulder harsher. He yelps and swats your hand away. Will glares further at you as he ushers you up the creaky stairs to your room. "Nothing happened! And who the fuck is 'Axl'?"

     "I saw how you were looking at him! I'm not naive, Y/N. You were giving him the 'fuck me' eyes! And me, everyone calls me Axl here." You give him a look. "Except you, of course. You can call me Will."

     You don't give him another word as he leads you to your bedroom. He was the one who didn't have a roommate before, and he'd have to share with Slash now but he was determined to give you your privacy.

     "This is the only room with a working lock, use it. Especially when your changing! Three horny men in a house with one you isn't a good combo." You make a face and shake your head, but you can't really tell if he's being overprotective or if his band mates really are pigs.

     "Are you not including Izzy?"

     "Please, he's the only smart one besides me. He knows I'll rip him a new one." You laugh and give Will another hug.

     "I've really missed hanging out with you like this, and thank you for letting me stay here." He nods and rubs your back.

     "No problem, we have each other's backs, always." You nod and release your bother from the hug. "One rule though: no hooking up with the guys. One time thing or not, you don't know them like I do, I won't let you get hurt. So don't even try anything with Steven!"

     "Even if it's nothing sex?" Will levels you with a look that would make you sweat if you were anyone else. You sigh and roll your eyes. "Fine! I promise."

     "Pinky promise?" He asks, holding out his pinky finger. You shake your head but comply anyway, hooking your pinky on his.

     "Wow, bringing out the big guns, pinky promises," you tease.

     "Bitch," he mumbles. You gasp sarcastically.

     "Asshole!" You reply. William takes his leave with another slew of insults under his breath but none to be taken seriously and all with a smile. You shut your door after him and lay on your bed, content with how things are finally beginning to look up.

If you knew where you would be in just a few months of living with your brother and his band, you never would've agreed to the naive promise Will had forced on you. You think back to the day with a frown.

"Whatcha thinkin' about?" Steven asks, pecking your bare shoulder as he lays behind you on your bed. You both lay naked and damp with sweat, glowing from the moonlight streaming in the room.

"William," you say with a sigh.

"We just had sex and your thinking of your brother? Should I be worried about you?" Steven asks teasingly. You fight the smile growing on your face and lightly pinch the his arm tightly wrapped around you. He never fails to make you laugh.

"I just feel bad keeping this a secret from him." You turn around to be face to face with Steven. "It's been months of sneaking around. I'm always nervous we'll get caught together or I'll blurt it out to him."

"Then why don't we just tell him?"

"Do you want to die! Steven, honestly, do you have a death wish?"

"No, but—"

"Then we can't tell my brother we're together. He'll murder you, and then probably me one he finds out how long I've been lying to him," you say and move your head in the crook of Steven's neck.

"Then we can be together in the afterlife!" Steven folds his arms around you even tighter. "Seriously though, we can't lie to him forever. We've been together for six months already, surely he'll see how much we care about each other and not want to kill us."

"Yeah, maybe," you say halfheartedly and close your eyes, finally letting yourself fall asleep.

The next night, Guns has a gig at the Whiskey A-Go Go. The ritual goes like it has been, they play the gig, you wait for Will to get drunk, and you and Steven sneak out to the back of the club to make out and maybe get felt up a bit before returning like nothing happened.

It isn't different this time. Steven's hands leave your skin ablaze as he lets them wander down your sides and up your thighs. His lips don't leave yours, even as he squeezes your ass and you let out a moan. He grins on your mouth and presses his pelvis up to your stomach.

His mouth leaves yours to press feather light kisses to your cheek before trailing down your jaw and onto your neck, where he sucks nips at. You have to press a hand to your mouth to stay quiet.

"Don't leave marks," you remind him through batted breath.

"I won't," he reassures and silences you with a chaste kiss to your swollen lips before returning his attack on your neck.

You hear footsteps fast approaching, but as quickly as you hear them, Steven is ripped away from you. He's slammed into the brick wall next to you harshly and groans. You jump away and gasp.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" William asks, his voice lower than usual. His green eyes dark and downright scary.

"Will! Let him go, come on. Stop fucking around, you didn't have to slam him into a wall," you say, but your shaky voice falls on deaf ears as Will doesn't move. Your hands grasp at his arm and try to yank him away from Steven, but he's stronger and taller than you and doesn't budge, he just keeps his eyes focused on Steven.

"Nothing!" He squeaks out. Even in the dark, his kiss bruised lips and flushed red face is obvious.

"'Nothing?' That's why you were ten seconds away from fucking Y/N?" Will asks.

"William stop it! You're scaring me! Leave him alone!" You push him again and this time, he relents. Will paces and runs his hand through his red locks while you rush to make sure Steven is ok.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Steven mutters and presses a kiss to your brow to comfort you, sending you a smile when he pulls away. He keeps his hands on your arms and rubs circles with his thumbs.

"How long has this been going on?" Will asks, crossing his arms as he finally stops his pacing.

"Six months..." Steven says nervously. William scoffs and shakes his head. "But it isn't just fucking around! I love them, Ax. Really."

You smile bashfully, biting your lip to try and contain it. You knew you felt strongly for Steven and that he returned the feelings, but you haven't outright said you loved each other— until know of course.

Will stays silent for a few beats, staring contemplative at Steven. He finally sighs, bring a hand up to rub his temples like he has a building headache.

"Yeah? And you love him, Y/N?" He asks. You nod, reaching out to grab Steven's hand. Steven lets a grin creep on to his face. "Then I guess I can't stop you. But if you ever break their heart, I'll fucking gut you, Adler."

If Will makes Steven nervous, he doesn't show it. He gives him a salute with his puppy dog like smile before sticking out his pinky.

"I promise I'll never hurt Y/N purposely, ever." Will rolls his eyes, the irony makes him nearly groan aloud. He sucks it up anyway when he sees your hopeful expression, hooking his pinky onto Steven's.

"Don't make me regret this, Steven," Will grumbles before leaving and walking back into the crowded club. Steven lets out an exhilarated laugh and kisses you, hard.

"Told you he wouldn't kill me!" Steven exclaims, making you laugh out of surprise.

"And we don't have to sneak around anymore!" Steven kisses you again, and again and again until you're breathless.

"I'm so in love with you," he mumbles between his attack on your lips. You smile, tangling your hands in his aqua-net filled hair.

"As I am with you."