#and they clearly see their hesitance as dragging the first bird down because of that

[jellicle-chants]

two birds by regina spektor is the best demelonzo song change my mind

[saeyoungchoismaid]

The brother’s reaction to having a shy s/o who is inexperienced

Genre: fluff Warnings: none

Lucifer: 

he was really subtle about liking you at first

until he found out that you like him back 

then, all bets were off 

he acted so cockily and confident 

well, more than usual, that is

he was all about flirting and being touchy 

teasing you constantly 

when you two actually started dating, he was surprisingly pretty slow about going about things 

you guessed it was because he hasn’t been serious about anyone in a while 

a fiery blush came to your cheeks when you first held hands and he thought it was the cutest thing ever to see you so flustered 

when he finally decided to kiss you, he notices you dodge his attempts

the first time it happened, he got the message and didn’t try again for a long while 

he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, after all 

when he tries again though and you still refuse him, he decides to talk to you about it 

he’s absolutely 100% okay with waiting but he just wants to know why

does he scare you or make you nervous? Are you not as attracted to him as you thought? 

when you confess that you’re nervous to be affectionate with him in fear of messing up, he’s confused 

“Darling, I don’t care how good or bad you are. That’s what I’m here for. I’ll teach you all that you need to know,” he purrs suggestively into your ear 

when you finally do kiss, he can tell you’re inexperienced but the kiss alone was enjoyable because it was done with you 

Mammon:

it took him all of two seconds to try to first kiss you when you started dating

when you dodged it though, he felt his heart break a little

you’re his human now, right? So why can’t he show you how much he likes you?

true to Mammon manner, he throws a fit without really thinking about it 

“Why won’t ya let me kiss ya? ‘U’re my partner, aren’t ya? I should be allowed to kiss ya!” he whines

as much as he wanted to kiss you, he was okay with waiting if that’s what you wanted 

he’s just dramatic 

when you teared up at his words though, his mind instantly shuts off and he doesn’t know what to do 

“Yeah, ‘u’re right. I’m not being a good partner. I’m sorry,” you apologize, tears starting to fall down your face

he gapes at this, his heart beating faster when he realizes that he’s the cause of your tears

“What? No! You’re perfect! Stop crying! If ya don’t wanna kiss me yet, ya don’t have to!” he shouts

you sniffle and wipe at your cheeks, still not making eye contact with him 

“Really?” you ask unsurely, thinking he’s just saying that to make you stop crying 

you see his feet come into your view and then feel his hands on your cheeks, fear shooting through you when you think he’s going to try to kiss you anyway 

“(Y/n), ya know how much I...like ya. I don’t want to make ya do something that ya don’t wanna do...”

you sniffle again, a smile slowly coming to your face as you look up at him 

“Thank you, Mammon. This means a lot to me,” you thank softly

he huffs and shoves you into his chest, your arms coming around him for a tight hug

“Yeah, whatever, human,” he grumbles, failing to hide his blush from you

Levi:

he’s just as nervous as you are 

yeah, he’s been around hundreds and hundreds of years but that doesn’t mean he’s all that experienced 

he prefers hiding in his room to play video games and watch anime rather than going out and actually talking to all the normies 

you make him want to leave his room though 

he wasn’t exactly subtle about having feelings for you 

then again, you weren’t the best at hiding it either 

all of the brothers constantly tease you both 

so, when you finally do get together, neither of you make a move to even hold hands

the most you do for a while is hug, to be honest 

as time went by and you two got more comfortable around each other, he finally worked up the nerve to hold your hand 

both of you had blushes the entire time though 

it took him even longer to try to kiss you for the first time 

when you avoided it though, he freaked out 

“Sorry! Ugh, I knew I shouldn’t have tried that! I really am sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

he stops when you tighten your grip on his hand, his throat seizing up a bit at the extra pressure

are you going to dump him? 

“I’m sorry. It’s not you. I’m just so afraid of messing this up...” you confess 

cue confused Levi™️

“What? Why would you think that?” he asks as he turns to face you more now that he knows you’re not revolted by him 

after you explain everything to him, he smiles softly at you and turns you to face him 

“Hey, I don’t care about that. You’re talking to me, after all. There are plenty of things I haven’t done and I’m nervous to try. I want to try them with you though. For you,” he says softly, his free hand lightly cupping your cheek

you smile brightly at him now as you give him a hug

“Thank you, Levi.”

Satan: 

he was really calm about the entire thing 

well, other than when you would do something beyond cute and he’d just get so flustered

when he realized he liked you, he didn’t hesitate to ask you out once he ‘confirmed’ that you liked him back 

when you said yes, he was beyond ecstatic 

he practically dragged you to your first date right away 

he held your hand easily, not noticing how you tensed up at the gesture before slowly relaxing into it 

when he tried to kiss you after your first date though, you retreated from his face 

he visibly deflates at the denial but he doesn’t push it 

you two did just start dating, after all. Maybe you’re just not ready yet 

and he’s okay with that

“Goodnight, (Y/n),” he whispers before kissing the back of your hand and leaving you at your door 

he doesn’t try again until much later 

when you do the same thing again though, he looks crestfallen 

“(Y/n)...why won’t you let me kiss you?” he asks quietly, starting to become afraid that you didn’t actually like him anymore or that you’re scared of him 

after hearing you explain that you’re afraid of messing up or that you’re not good enough for him, he looks heartbroken 

“My love, don’t think so negatively about yourself. I want all of you, your faults and your downfalls included. I like you for who you are,” he says gently, cupping your hands with his 

when he sees you smile, he pulls you into a hug 

“Now that I know, I’ll wait as long as you want me to.” 

Asmo:

we all know how affectionate this demon is 

you two weren’t even dating yet before he tried making a move 

when you shot him down or shied away from him, he just brushed it off

when he actually started liking you though, all of that stopped 

he didn’t want you to be uncomfortable or nervous around him 

he hated the thought of it 

you, and everyone for that matter, noticed his change in behavior 

he didn’t really bring anyone home anymore, he didn’t even really flirt with anyone that wasn’t you 

it was freaking everyone out, honestly 

well, everyone but you 

it made you realize how serious his feelings for you are 

so, when you two start dating, he’s ready to get things on the road 

when he tries to kiss you though, you avoid it with a nervous gaze

this makes him just as nervous 

does he still make you uncomfortable or anxious? are you worried about him cheating on you? 

he let it go the first time, wanting to give you time to adjust to your new relationship with him 

when he tried again though and you still avoided him, he just got more upset 

“Why won’t you let me kiss you? Do I make you that uncomfortable?” he snaps without thinking about it 

in his eyes, he’s been nothing but a loving, caring, and loyal boyfriend and you’ll barely cuddle him 

everything comes to a stop when your eyes start watering though 

“You’re right. I know. I’m such a bad partner. You can kiss me. Go ahead,” you concede, body shaking as you move closer to him 

kissing you is what he’s been wanting but not like this

you clearly don’t want it 

“What? No! Look at you! You’re shaking at even thinking about kissing me! I’m not going to force you to do it!” he shouts as he moves away from you 

his yelling and denying you just makes you more nervous. You just keep messing up 

“I’m sorry. I understand if you want to break up with me. I know you’re the avatar of lust. I’m such a bad partner. I can’t even kiss you,” you sob, your body shaking even more

he frowns at this, a pit forming in his stomach as he tries to figure out what to do 

he sighs and moves to you, wrapping you in a hug and letting you sob into his chest 

“Babe,” he calls out to you, getting no response. “Darling,” he tries again. “Sugar. Love bug. My honey bunches of oats,” he keeps going, the pet names getting more sickeningly sweet as he goes on 

you start giggling at the fourth one, pulling away to look up at him 

he smiles softly at you, his hands cupping your face and petting your hair as he speaks 

“(Y/n), it doesn’t matter that I’m the avatar of lust. I want to be with you and if that means you don’t want to kiss me yet, then that’s okay. I’m sorry for shouting. I just thought you were still uncomfortable around me from how I used to act...” he confesses 

your smile slips into a frown, your head starting to shake 

“That’s not it at all. I just don’t want to mess this up. I really like you...” you confess 

he smirks and kisses your cheek before saying, “Good because I like you even more.”

Beel: 

my pure honey bunch sugar plum pumpyumpyumpkin sweetie pie cuppy cake gum drop schnookums schnookums baby cakes 

I love this man so much I-

when he figures out he likes you, this demon can barely look at you without getting butterflies and a pink blush 

when he finds out you like him too?

those butterflies turn into full-on birds and he swears he’s going to be sick 

he gets so nervous around you after that 

suddenly, things he used to do without thinking, he now overthinks about

you look so nice today. Should he tell you or will you be creeped out? He’s trying out this new recipe. Can he ask you to try it or is he pestering you? He needs help with his homework. Can he ask you or will you think he’s dumb or annoying?

MY POOR SWEET BABY 

when you two get together, it helps him relax a lot 

you wouldn’t be dating him if you didn’t like him, right?

takes him like three months to even hold your hand

after he first does it though, he ALWAYS holds your hand after that 

he likes the feeling of your small hand in his 

it takes him 47420959584 years to try to kiss you 

he’s honestly so excited but also very nervous 

he is constantly looking at your lips and imagining them against his

when he tries and you deny him, he thinks he might puke 

“I’m sorry. I can’t,” you say softly

he swallows down his nerves and nods his head, moving away from you to give you space 

“No, it’s okay. I understand.”

“But you don’t...” you mumble

what doesn’t he understand? 

“Okay, then explain it to me?” he replies, it coming out more as a question that a statement

you sigh before explaining the situation 

he smiles at your words though, thinking it’s kind of silly 

“(Y/n), you don’t ever have to be worried when it comes to me. I care for you in ways that I can’t explain. If you aren’t ready to kiss me yet, then that’s completely fine. I want to kiss you only when you’re ready,” he reassures before giving your forehead a kiss 

Belphie: 

you two were cuddling in bed before he even realized he liked you 

once he did realize though, he became nervous around you 

he didn’t show it though 

he just started acting indifferent towards you 

he wasn’t fooling anyone though 

it was the little things that showed everyone that he cared for you

giving you his leftovers instead of Beel, pulling a blanket over you if you fall asleep on the couch, pulling a piece of fuzz from your hair with the utmost care, the list goes on 

when you two started dating, nothing really changed at first

Belphie is bad at expressing himself, so cuddling with you was already a big step for him 

when you two move up to hugging and hand-holding though, he slowly starts to open up more 

one day, he finally goes to kiss you only for you to avoid it 

he’s confused but it doesn’t really bother him all that much because he knows what it’s like to received unwanted affection 

but wait 

why would his affection be unwanted? He’s your boyfriend, isn’t he?

he softly asks you about it, letting you know that he’s not upset in any way. He’s just confused

once you explain that you’re afraid of messing up, he chuckles a little as he pulls you into a hug 

“Now why would you ever be afraid of something like that? You know that I like you. Both of us will make plenty of mistakes but we are a couple so we will work on them and improve together,” he coos at you

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Tag List: @jungialo, @fanfictwarrior, @ohbbobeyme, @zeldan7, @otome-otakuwu​, @officialdevorak, @katelynwithpaint, @buzzybeebee, & @thesoftkittylexy ✦ if you would like to be added or removed, comment or send an ask. Also, remember to tell me if you ever change your username so I can continue to tag you :)

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[elleirbagsstuff]

"The miracle is you"

Pair: Mirabel Madrigal x Gender neutral reader

Relationship: platonic

Genre: fluff

i just wanted to write for my girl

Summary: after the fall of casita everything went back to normal, abuela alma being less strict and everyone being in a better shape.. well except for one madrigal who still doesn't have a gift

••

You were one of the people who helped the madrigals rebuild their home it took a lot of days before it was actually finished. It was tiring for everyone to say the least, but it was all the townspeople could do to repay the madrigals for their help all those years.

While rebuilding casita, you saw with your own two eyes how the madrigals became even closer to one another, how they got closer to Mirabel, after her failed ceremony everyone drifted apart from her and you were happy that they somehow stopped treating her like an outcast to the family.

You're in your room preparing for the night, Alma madrigal prepared a party in the casita, a thanks to everyone who helped them.

As you finished you went out of your room to find your parents before leaving, you saw them in the kitchen, your mother preparing for dinner and your father helping her.

They didn't notice you because they were busy 'arguing'

"Querido! Let me handle the cooking for tonight you have to rest" you heard your father yell, your mother shook her head in response

"No, remember the last time you cooked and you burnt the food? Not happening again." She took the pan and spatula from your father's hand and you had to stiffle a laugh.

"But-"

"No buts, cariño"

"Ahem"

As you fake cough, your parents turned around to see you leaning against the wall watching them with an amused smile on your face.

"Oh mi vida! Going out tonight?" Your father asked and you nodded in response before hugging him. "Be careful, don't drink too much!"

"But pa, i don't drink."

"Oh right.. i'm the one who drinks."

You laughed along with your mother shaking her head before playfully shoving his arm. She went closer to you and kissed your cheeks.

"If you come home late i'll leave you some left over. If you're still angry tho."

"Thanks ma!"

You went out of your house and greeted some of the people who waved at you, you were still far away from the casita but you can clearly hear the music. Guess everyone was already having fun.

As you were near the front door you could already see Camilo shape-shifting into every person he greets, and when it was your turn he did the same.

"Hola y/n! Good to see you again!" He greeted you with a hug and you kindly returned the gesture

"As always."

You went inside as he assisted you and you were already dragged to the table where all the foods are . You grabbed one empanada took a bite, you closed your eyes when you savored the taste.

"Foods never fail to impress me." You mumbled to yourself as you finished it.

"There you are!" You got startled when a kid suddenly clings to your leg, you look down to see it was Antonio, there was a bird on his shoulder.

"Hola toñito! Were you waiting for me?" You crouched down to his height as you messed with his hair, he laughed as he nodded his head.

You noticed that he's not with Mirabel, quite weird because those two are stuck with each other, you turned your head to every corner of the house to try and find her but you couldn't.

Antonio noticed you doing it so he decided to speak. "She's in her room."

"¿Por qué?" You asked.

"I don't know, maybe you should try and talk to her. I tried but she didn't answer me" you noticed his frown and you stood up messing his hair one more time.

"I would."

You went upstairs to Mirabel's room, you hesitated at first before you knocked on her door waiting for her response.

"Come in." She answered, you notice the sadness in her voice. You entered her room with a bright smile on your face, she turns her head and find you standing in her doorway and she smiled. "Oh y/n! You're here already."

"Yeah, i arrived just a little while, tried to find you but i couldn't until Antonio told me.." she didn't say anything, you see her smile falters as she looked back on the window. You sat on a chair near her bed "you okay? Not feeling for a party?" Concern laced your voice as you asked.

"Mhmm, just a little tired i guess." The two of you sat in silence for a whole minute until Mirabel decided to break it. "I just wish.. things turned out differently.." she started, "i love my family and i'm glad we're all okay now but.. i wish i still received a gift, i wanted a miracle, y'know? I wanted my own door."

You frowned at her words, i thought she was already over this

"You still don't get it do you?" You asked, she looks at you with a questioning glance and you sighed. "Remember what your tio told you? You are the gift, the miracle of this family." She smiles half heartedly, probably remembering her tio Bruno's word. "Without you, the miracle is dead, so you're just as important as everyone else in the family.. come on you have your own gift!" You tried to cheer her up.

"And what is my gift?"

"You help people realize their worth, you bring the best in them." Mirabel genuinely smiled at you after hearing those words.

"You're just saying that cause i'm your bestfriend." She playfully rolled her eyes at you and you gasped dramatically.

"How could you think like that?! Oh! And may i remind you, you make the best embroidery!" You picked the embroidered sun from your pocket to show her, she gave you that along with the words 'a sun for you, for always make my world bright' "You're special in your own way, do you get my point amiga?"

"Okaaayy, i get your point. Thank you y/n seriously"

"That's what friends are for, now get up, let's get out of your room and party!"

The two of you laughed as you exited her room, finally after a couple of days feeling down. Mirabel was finally able to have fun, thanks to your words

••

Oh wow my first encanto fic! Hope you enjoy it!

[mochacoffee]

I created a 3D model and floor plan of Aziraphale’s bookshop in Good Omens!

I really wanted one for reference and it seemed like many others did too, so I put together my best approximation of where everything is. Beneath the color version, you’ll see I’ve included two simplified, labeled versions of the plan. The verbal labels are so you know what the object is. The numerical labels are there to make it easy to find more information about the object. I’ve put a numbered index below the cut that features the relevant reference images I used for each object and some more information about why I put it where I did/why it’s relevant/etc. I want to be very clear that I did not add anything to this from my own imagination; every single item and feature represents something I actually saw in the shop.

If you have any questions or want more information about this, PLEASE do not hesitate to ask! I put so much time into figuring it out and I would be more than happy to be a resource for anyone who needs it. Also, if you notice any errors, let me know and I’ll update the post. I hope this is helpful!

Update: Here’s a link to an interactive view of the shop! It takes a moment to load. You can click the “3D” tab in the top right to view it in first person and walk around inside. Double click a spot on the floor to move there and pan around by clicking and dragging. The oval symbol next to the person walking gives you a birds-eye view.

Update 2: Here’s a higher quality rendering of the first person perspective! Update 3: I made an alternate first person render here complete with a ceiling, light fixtures, and ambient lighting from outside. This one is optimized for making it seem more like you’re actually there, whereas the previous one is for maximum visibility. This render also has some minor accuracy improvements, which are detailed under the cut in the relevant sections. (The first interactive link with the birds-eye view updates automatically.) Update 4: In case you’re interested in Aziraphale’s books specifically, I’ve made a catalogue of those here.

1. Unknown closet

Images

There is a door behind Gabriel when he talks to Aziraphale in the backroom. So where does it lead? Well. The wall we can see behind Aziraphale when he encounters Shadwell in the shop (see #17: boxes/storage) doesn’t have a door in it. It’s also facing the wrong direction and it’s in the middle of the southwest wall ⁠— we know this because Aziraphale can see Shadwell in the entrance from there. So the wall behind him at that moment is definitely not the wall of the backroom. We’re left with this door and unaccounted-for corner. The only thing that makes sense to me then is that there’s a closet there between the two spaces. My personal theory is that this closet is “the back” that Aziraphale refers to keeping the Châteauneuf-du-Pape in since I didn’t see any other obvious alcohol storage space in the shop. Update: @n0nb1narydemon has suggested this could be a bathroom for guests or because culturally it’s a room you can use to extricate yourself from situations, which is another possibility! They also asked where I think the doors behind object #20 lead, and I thought it would be good to add here that they might lead to the shop next door or to this unknown room. It’s possible the room actually extends further into the next shop and encompasses the part of the wall where the doors are, but I didn’t have concrete evidence to support that idea so I didn’t include it in the floor plan. Update: I was wrong about the Châteauneuf-du-Pape! In the DVD bookshop tour we learn that the cabinet in the top left corner of the backroom is where Aziraphale keeps his alcohol, including that particular wine. I added a reference photo of Neil pointing it out. Thanks to @fuckyeahgoodomens​ for bringing the existence of this tour to my attention — ya girl got the special edition blu-ray even though I don’t have a blu-ray player yet so I hadn’t actually seen it. Also, there is a chair right next to this cabinet against the wall which I missed in my initial rendering of the shop but have since added.

2. Part of shop next door (top right)

Images

This was very tricky to figure out because you can see from the exterior of the shop that there is no wall past the back door, but from the interior there is clearly more space there. BUT in a behind the scenes photo of David during the fire scene, you can see on this back wall that there’s actually a nook with two large entryways, similar to the one that makes up the backroom. From the exterior you can see that the area next to the back door is taken up by the window of the next shop, so I concluded that this little square of space was not part of the bookshop’s interior, but the nook did extend further back than where the shop appears to end from the outside. I had to make one bookshelf more nubby than the others to make this work, but after a LOT of trial and error I decided one nubby bookshelf was the only thing that could explain the apparent architecture of the space. Any floor design that accounted for a bookshelf of the same length as the others just did not make sense on a fundamental level.

3. Part of shop next door (bottom left)

Images

From the exterior of the shop you can see that this window belongs to the adjacent store, as the wall is a different color. Within the bookshop you can also see when Gabriel and Sandalphon enter the backroom, there’s no window behind them; there’s a sink. So it’s definitely not Aziraphale’s window. The wall of the backroom is also further into the shop’s interior than the wall Aziraphale’s desk sits against, so there’s a corner of space inside that’s unaccounted for. At first I assumed it was plumbing from the sink that had been sealed off or something, but when I realized that’s where the window was on the outside, I figured the space is probably part of the next shop over.

4. Aziraphale’s desk

Images

This is where Aziraphale sits in the shop like 90% of the time. It’s on the Eastern side of the shop because Aziraphale was the guardian of the Eastern gate in Eden and because production designer Michael Ralph is a goddamn genius (source). Shout out to @posted-omens for this fascinating post analyzing the chariot sculpture on his desk. Update: Fun fact, the ladder behind his desk is actually called a library chair, supposedly designed by Benjamin Franklin. It functions as a ladder but you can also fold it into a chair! Neil mentions this in the DVD extra bookshop tour. I added screen caps of it to the reference photos above since I don’t have a specific section for the ladders!

5. Phone Aziraphale calls Crowley from

Images

I will be honest with you: I think there’s something a little fucked up about this corner. It is my nemesis. I tried so many things to make it work and I just could not get it exactly right, but what you see in the floor plan is my best guess as to what’s going on. The conundrum is that the spot where Aziraphale stands when he’s on the phone with Crowley is definitely closer to the fence around the staircase than it is in my layout. But the table he’s in front of is also clearly against the outside wall of the backroom, and the stairs being where I’ve put them here is the only thing that made sense based on the reference photos. So there’s some weird spacing issue where there’s a little too much room between the fence around the stairs and this phone. If I were to move the walls to close that gap then there would be way too much space in the backroom and way too little space on the southwest side of the shop, so I think the walls are correct as they are. So  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. What I can say for certain is that the phone is there and it’s on a table next to a lamp, and the table is definitely against the wall of the backroom and behind the staircase. The distance between these things doesn’t hold up perfectly, but their arrangement does. On another note, this is one of two phones in the shop. The other is on the table next to the cash register (see #9) which Aziraphale picks up when Crowley calls to say they need to talk about Armageddon. I believe this is the same one he uses to call Adam’s house in episode two, only he moves it from the table by the register to the top of a pile of books (which I’m pretty sure were stacked on the circular table between his desk and the sofa). Update: OKAY SO it turns out in the behind-the-scenes bookshop tour on the DVD we get two more teeny tiny glimpses of this corner! I added them to the reference photo album above. It appears I was right about the lamp, phone, and bookshelf being where they are, except that the bookshelf and table are touching. There’s also a ladder propped against the shelf. I’d say it’s possible there are actually two bookshelves here; based on the parallax in the DVD tour, the one next to the phone didn’t appear to be against the wall, but we know there is a bookshelf against that wall because we see it in the show. (P.S. There’s also another chair against that wall which I didn’t see because Aziraphale was standing in front of it, so I added that too.) This leads me to believe there’s one against the wall and another one further from it next to the table. But that’s just my speculation, so I won’t change the actual floor plan unless I find more evidence.

6. Where they’re drinking when Crowley realizes Adam has named the hellhound

Images

When Aziraphale sits down at this table, the background is of the same space he refers to as the “backroom” when Gabriel and Sandalphon show up. He’s across the table from Crowley, behind whom you can see a bookshelf, the staircase, and the coat rack. The table is half in the backroom half out, since the room has two large entryways in its wall. Update: I realized the wall behind this table actually dips back further! It is a weirdly-shaped wall! But in the DVD special tour of the bookshop Neil walks past it and there’s clearly an area that recesses even further, so I’ve modified that in the interactive floor plan :)

7. Bench of books that start the fire

Images

When Shadwell leaves the book shop and slams the door, one of the candles knocks over and rolls into a pile of books and other papers (including the Sound of Music lmao). You can see it’s the same bench the customer is standing in front of when he gives Gabriel a weird look after he yells about pornography. (I love this customer so much because they gave me a super HD shot of this particular area.) The poles of the fence around the bench, the staircase behind it, and the smaller shelves beside it holding Terry Pratchett’s books make it clear that the bench is in that spot in the shop and that it’s the place the fire starts.

8. Coat rack with Terry’s hat on it

Images

Aziraphale hangs his coat here right before Crowley calls him to say they need to talk about Armageddon. Out of focus in the frame you can see the lion sculpture that sits on the fence surrounding the stairs (see #11) and a bookshelf. The camera pans past the shelf and we see him walk past his desk to pick up the phone by the cash register, which puts that shelf right next to his sitting area. We can also see the coat rack in the background when Crowley realizes Adam has named the hellhound. The coat rack has Terry Pratchett’s hat and scarf on it in his honor (source).

9. Antique cash register

Images

You can see this register in the background when Crowley is on the couch and when Aziraphale invites Gabriel and Sandalphon into the backroom. I know it’s an antique cash register because it’s photographed and referenced directly on page 79 of the Good Omens TV Companion. It’s a typewriter in my floor plan because the website I used (floorplanner.com), who knows why, did not have a 3D model of a cash register from the early 1900s.

10. Back door

Images

Thank you so much to @fuckyeahgoodomens for this post where they figured all this out!! Wonderful work! You can see this door from the exterior of the shop and its existence is referenced in the Good Omens script book on page 94. It’s also in the background of a behind the scenes shot of Aziraphale pulling away the carpet so he can contact heaven. Behind him in that shot you can see the bust (which moves around a lot - see #19) and a grandfather clock, and in the show from one of the aerial shots you can see that the carpet is pulled west, further confirming the door’s location.

11. Fence around the stairs

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I have concluded that this is a fence to keep customers from going up to the second floor. It looks to be made of golden pillars with wooden shelving atop them. The fence crosses beneath the staircase on one side and the other side ends about where the stair’s railing does. You can see this fence behind Crowley when he realizes Adam has named the hellhound, behind Aziraphale when he calls Crowley to tell him he knows where the antichrist is, and next to the customer who gives Gabriel a look after he yells “PORNOGRAPHY!” It’s also visible in one of the aerial shots of the shop. Update: In the DVD extra bookshop tour I noticed the lion sculpture on this fence is not just a lion, but a lion with a woman holding its mane. I think it might also be a lamp? In one of the reference photos, the one that looks down from the second floor, it appears there’s a light in the woman’s other hand. I’d be interested to see if we can track down what this particular sculpture is and what it might mean. Update: @cantdewwrite has suggested here that the light/sculpture could be a replica of one of the bronze statues in the Victoria Memorial, which does look quite similar. I’m fairly certain Aziraphale’s sculpture is of a woman, which would make it the figure in the memorial representing peace.

12. Open book of illustrated story of Adam and Eve

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Shout out to @amuseoffyre for this post where she figured out what this was! Update: I’ve determined that this book is The Gospel in the Old Testament: A series of pictures by Harold Copping. The painting is, naturally, by Harold Copping. It’s called “Adam and Eve after the fall.” Unfortunately this book is out of print and I haven’t been able to track down an ebook or scan of it, so I can’t confirm the text just yet. But based on its premise, I think it’s safe to assume that it’s telling the story of Adam and Eve directly. Aziraphale has a second copy of this book visible on the shelf next to the sofa.

13. Antique computer

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This is the computer Aziraphale does his extremely scrupulous taxes with, as confirmed in this ask that @neil-gaiman answered from @prismatic-bell! It’s an Amstrad, according to the bookshop tour in the DVD extras.

14. Spiral staircase

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These stairs are in many shots of the shop so it was pretty obvious where they were.

15. Sink, teapots, etc.

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You can see this wall right before Gabriel walks into the backroom and behind Aziraphale when he’s drinking with Crowley at the end of episode one. It appears he has two hand towels, a ceramic angel soap dish (aw), some teapots, and a decorated box above it, among other things. On the floor beside the sink is what I believe to be a broom handle, though it could be a mop? Next to that is a bronze statue of an angel atop a small table piled with books. On the other side of the sink is an open book on a stand ⁠— it has a fabric bookmark in it with a crucifix at the end, so I’m assuming it’s a bible. Light reading while you make your tea I guess. Update: Thank you so much to @brightwanderer for pointing out in this post that he has four extra angel wing mugs above the sink as well! I couldn’t figure out what they were! Update: Neil said in this ask that you can see an oven by the sink when Gabriel and Sandalphon walk in. Which you can! It’s real small and there’s a little pot on top of it. I’ve added a screencap of it to the images album for this area. Update: I’m donating my heart and soul to @ack-emma for suggesting in the replies to this ask that the central object above the sink is a samovar!! I had never heard of this so I had absolutely no idea what it was, but I think they hit the nail on the head. Y’all Aziraphale really likes tea.

16. Sculpture

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Thank you @ineffable-endearments, @behold-my-squeees, @srebrnafh, @aethelflaedladyofmercia for contributing to this post about the statue and its potential symbolism! Update: @doctorscienceknowsfandom has added some analysis to the post above suggesting that this is a sculpture of Paris, the figure from Greek mythology. I’m inclined to agree! Update: BINGO! @tifaria​ has found Aziraphale’s exact statue (confirmed Paris!) in this post. Brilliant work!! This community continues to blow me away. Further discussion about the sculpture’s meaning in the context of the show here — be sure to check the notes for further commentary.

17. Boxes/storage

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These boxes and piles of books can be seen behind Aziraphale when he encounters Shadwell in the shop and behind Crowley while he’s rambling drunkenly about why they should stop Armageddon in episode one. They’re in a nook that goes further back than where the shop appears to end from its exterior (see #2 for more info on that!). 

18. Stacks of books

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You can see this stack in one of the aerial shots of Shadwell in the shop. I didn’t include most stacks of books in the floor plan because they’re literally everywhere and I had to manually set how high each book would be from the floor, so putting them in piles got tedious very quickly. But I did include a few notable ones, and this is one of those imo because there’s not much else in that area as far as I can tell.

19. Bust

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This little guy moves around quite a bit, unlike most things in the shop. In some photos/scenes it’s where I put it on the floor plan, but in others it’s closer to the northwestern wall and in this 360 video of the shop it’s right between two of the columns. I chose to put it where I did because it’s there in the scene where Crowley is drunkenly rambling about Armageddon, whereas the other locations I’ve seen it in were from behind the scenes shots and stuff. I’m not sure who the bust is of! It appears to have a little ribbon with a medal around its next though. Update: More speculation about the bust here, courtesy of @aethelflaedladyofmercia! Update: @fuckyeahgoodomens has confirmed in this post that the thing around the bust’s neck is the medal given to Aziraphale by Gabriel in this deleted scene!

20. Divider I think?

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Please for the love of god if you know what this thing is, tell me. My best guess is it’s a room divider because what else looks like that?? But I don’t know why you would put a room divider there. And it still doesn’t look exactly like a divider either. But the decorative element at the top and apparent gap between the metal frame and the red bit leads me to believe it’s not furniture or a box. This mystery object is my second nemesis after the weird corner (#5). Update: @brightwanderer has suggested that it might be an embroidered/tapestry draft screen, which I think makes more sense! Update: In the DVD extra bookshop tour I found a very brief image of this item over Neil’s shoulder which I added to the reference photos above. I think by some miracle I was right and it is a divider. It could be a draft screen but at the very least it is shaped like a divider with at least three sections. Wahoo!

21. Record player

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This is the phonograph that’s playing Franz Schubert’s String Quintet in C major (thank you again to @fuckyeahgoodomens for that info) when we first see Aziraphale in the shop. It also plays Queen’s You’re My Best Friend when Crowley runs into the fire.

22. Terry Pratchett’s books

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Another one of the many little Terry easter eggs in the show is this set of his books! @devoursjohnlock made a post highlighting some other specific books you can find in the shop.

23. Chess set

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I saw a post once pointing out this chess set and the implication that Aziraphale and Crowley must play together sometimes, which I thought was a really nice detail to put into the set. But I can’t find the post to credit it! I will update this with a link if I do. Update: Pretty sure this is the post I saw. Thank you to @losyanya for mentioning it :)

24. Circular entryway

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This is one of many circle motifs that production designer Michael Ralph incorporated into the shop. It’s gorgeous. I think there’s actually more room between the archway and the door than I’ve included in this floor plan; Shadwell takes a few steps through it when he runs out of the shop. But I think the fix is just the door being further out from the entryway rather than the entryway being further in. I didn’t want to fuck with the walls to improve this particular area because when I realized the spacing was wrong, I was almost done and would’ve had to manually move each object in the shop over a few inches over. Made more sense to leave the caveat in a footnote. Update: In the DVD extra bookshop tour you get a brief glimpse of something on the inside wall of the entryway. I think it’s a wall sconce or something along those lines. There’s one on either side. I added them to the reference album above! I also figured out how to extend the walls to accommodate some more space there without having to move everything else, so I did that. Update: Here’s a link to some meta discussion about the cupid sculpture in front of this entryway!

25. Sofa Crowley sits on when he suggests they could be godfathers

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You can see that the sofa is next to Aziraphale’s desk and the cash register, and also that there’s a bookshelf behind it. From the entrance to the shop you can see two bookshelves on either side of the central circle, so it was pretty clear that the couch was on the other side of one of those shelves.

26. Wall crucifix

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I find it very interesting that Aziraphale has this considering Jesus isn’t a big part of angelic lore or heaven’s general priorities in the show. It would make more sense to me that he has it because it’s another memento of his time with Crowley, sort of like the illustrated story of Adam and Eve by his desk (#12). Also, fun fact, the opposite side of this wall segment is where he put up all his maps and notes about the whereabouts of the Antichrist in episode three.

[americasmarauders]

What about ....

“i’m not worthy of anybody’s love.” “that’s not true, you’re worthy of mine.” followed by the lover breaking eye-contact… + a love confession

Followed with tentative kisses in the dark

With Jason Todd x reader ❤❤❤❤❤

Lots of love xoxo

did this get completly out of hand? yes, yes it did. It was supposed to be short and sweet, but suddenly I had 12 pages of angst ready to make their way into the world. 

I’m so sorry it took so long, elle, life got in my way, but now you have like, 6k+ words to make up for it. I really hope you like it.

warnings: completly unedited, sorry for the typos :))

words: 6,856

masterlist #

#

Aged 14, sometime in September.

Mason Anderson was the biggest dick she had ever met. He was petty and jealous and he picked on her just because. She just wanted peace, quietly resolving  the homework she had spent an entire week working on. The library was empty, safe for a couple of other students when he barged in and robbed her of her papers. 

He claimed he needed it more than her, he was the one almost flunking out of the class. She demanded her homework back, but he ran towards the boy’s bathroom with her work. It wasn’t the first time that sullen feeling of despair had been planted on her by Mason Anderson, it still didn’t make it any easier. 

She sat in front of the boys bathroom, hugging her knees in an attempt to find comfort. She kept thinking that she could do it again, she had done it once, theoretically it would be faster to do it a second time. Light footsteps echoed through the hall, her eyes found their way to the source of the noise. 

Jason Todd was a tiny kid with a big brain and an even bigger heart. He had helped her with English more times than she cared to admit. Sometimes she would see him walking towards the alley near the Academy, holding an extra package of chips to the little kid that stayed there sometimes. She liked Jason Todd, considering him the only alley she had inside the cold walls of the Gotham Academy. 

“What’re you doing here?” he asked, delicately, sitting beside her. “I thought you were gonna finish Statam’s paper today.”

“Mason Anderson stole it,” her eyes were cast downwards, looking at the seams of the floor with an almost inhuman interest. “He wanted to copy it, and I wouldn’t let him so he decided to flush down the toilet instead.”

“I’m sorry,” he muttered to her, sitting next to her on the floor. 

“It’s okay,” she shook her head, stretching her legs in front of her. “I just,” she sighed, trying to find the words, “I spent one week working on that, and I really needed the grade, you know? But he just didn’t care, he just thought of himself.”

Jason looked at her, softly. His eyes held a certain fire behind them, something she could never really describe what it was. It was entrancing, it calmed the pace of her heart.  He didn’t say anything before getting up and marching towards the boys bathroom. 

She didn’t hear anything going on inside, her mind imagining all sorts of scenarios where Jason would emerge from the bathroom beaten and defeated, Mason walking out completely victorious, with a shiny top grade Literature paper in hand. Her blood boiled at the image, more so than it did before. She got up from the ground, determined to help Jason win the fight, even if her papers were already down the plumbing. 

But the door flung open, her friend walking out calmly, clutching her homework delicately. He offered her a smile, and as the door closed behind Jason she could see Mason on the ground gripping his nose in pain. 

“Here,” the papers were completely dry to the touch, her confusion deepening. “He was copyin’ it.”

“I can’t believe you got this back,” she whispered, shaking her head in disbelief. “I thought… I thought I'd have to redo it.”

“Nah,” he smiled shyly, “I would’ve helped ya.”

“I can’t really depend on you for everything, Jason,” she replied politely. “It’s not fair.”

“I got your back,” he affirmed, “ya don’t need to worry.”

And it meant the world to her that he did. 

#

#

Aged 16, October 12th. 

Jason Todd and her became friends after the Mason Anderson incident. She didn’t know what Jason had said to him, what had he done, all she knew was that Mason never bothered her again after that. 

It was the night of her 16th birthday. It was late, probably past 3 in the morning when Jason carefully landed on the fire escape that led to her bedroom. He carefully carried a small box, wrapped neatly with a blue bow. He had chosen the gift lovingly, his heart warm with her. Jason hadn’t expected her to be such an integral part of his life, but just as quietly as she arrived, she placed herself in his heart permanently. She was his friend, true friend, she didn’t expect anything other than his company and support, something he was glad to provide. 

His knuckles lightly grazed her window, making the softest noise.  Her shades were partially open, he could see her body lying comfortably on her bed. She moved slightly, her body turning towards the window. Her hands rubbed her eyes delicately, seeing Jason smile awkwardly at her. She got up and dragged her feet towards him, opening her window to him. 

“What’re you doing here?” her voice was slurred, intoxicated with sleep. 

“You know, you should really lock your windows,” he commented, “Gotham’s a dangerous city.”

“Jay,” she warned, “what’re you doing here? It’s…”she searched for her clock, “fuck, 3 in the morning.”

“It’s your birthday,” he responded clearly, as if it was the most obvious reason why he was on her fire escape, on a cold October night only wearing a light jacket.

She blinked at his blunt response, confused on what to say to him. “You’ll see me tomorrow, Jay, I don’t understand why’d you come all this way just to see me.”

“Because it’s you,” he shrugged, stepping into her bedroom silently. “You really thought I wouldn’t see you on your birthday?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered, looking down at her feet. A soft breeze came in through the window sending shivers down her spine. Jason closed the window for her and she sent a silent thank you towards his way. “I thought you wouldn’t bother.”

“Well,” he extended the little box to her. Her fingers brushed on his softly, a shock sent on his skin at the touch, “I couldn’t not see you.”

Her hands hugged the box carefully, hesitant on what to do with what was given to her. “Open it,” he urged her. 

She eyed him suspiciously, undoing carefully the blue bow that decorated the gift. Opening the box, a tiny robin pendant next to two tiny stones pendants, an opal and an onyx: her birthstone and his. “Wow,” she breathed out, her heart racing inside her chest. Suddenly, she didn’t feel sleepy anymore. “Jason, this is… You didn’t have to.”

“Of course I had,” he stated, his eyes soft and loving, lingering on her more than they should. “You mean a lot to me, darling.”

Her eyes glinted underneath the pale moonlight streaming through the half closed curtains of her room. Jason’s breath hitched quietly at the sight of her, disheveled and sleepy and yet the most perfect person to grace his life. She was at a loss for words for a few moments, opening and closing her mouth, not knowing how to react. Her eyes trailed frenetically over the pendants, trying to find meaning in those.

“Why a robin?” the inquiry startled Jason. He wasn’t expecting to explain himself, much less explain why he had given her a robin pendant. She had no clue what he did when the night fell, who Bruce actually was and he intended to keep her in the dark about that aspect of his life. She didn’t need to know anyway, and telling her would only put her in danger. That was what Bruce made her believe. 

“It reminded me of you,” he answered, simply, his eyes fixated on her angelic face. 

It wasn’t untrue. Robins were friendly and protected over, birds that should never be harmed. Jason made sure of that, he had her back, always, and he knew she had his. But mostly, he wanted her to have a piece of him everywhere she went. If something were to happen, he wanted to guarantee he wouldn’t be a footnote in her life. What a magnificent life that would be, he knew.

Her eyes ran on his face, looking for a hint that he wasn’t sincere, that he was just messing with her. The thought was more heartbreaking than she anticipated. She found nothing malicious in his face, in his eyes, and smiled back at him. “Thank you, Jay,” she kissed his cheek delicately, her lips barely brushing his skin. It was enough to send both of them into a frenzy of feelings, a thousand thoughts running through their heads. 

“Here,” he extended his hands, his eyes clear and full of emotion for her, “I’ll put it on for you.”

She handed him the box, turning around so he could clasp the hook of the necklace. Jason was considerably smaller than her - she guessed it was because of the years of malnutrition he endured when he lived on the streets - so she sat on her bed to meet his height. His fingers brushed slightly at the back of her neck, sending goosebumps on her body.

It was when she turned to look at him again that she realized that maybe Jason wasn’t just a friend to her. Maybe the interest she had in Jason, or how her heart raced when she saw him for the first time in the day weren’t because he was her friend. Maybe it was because she had decided to love him with all her soul. 

#

#

Aged 16, April 28th.

It was ironic how sunny it was in Gotham that day. It was like nothing had happened, the world hadn’t gotten the memo that it was supposed to be gloomy and sad outside, to match the pain she felt inside. 

On the deep green grass of Gotham cemetery, stood her and Jason’s family, listening to a priest preach something meaningless to her. Nothing mattered to her anymore, her friend, best friend, was buried deep into the earth, 6 feet under. She would never get to see him again, hear his laugh, take in his smile. She would never have another birthday with him, give him his favorite books, tell him she loved him. Her eyes were fixed on the fresh dirt lain over his shiny coffin, her hand fidgeting on the robin pendant Jason had gifted mer  months before. It wasn’t an open casket, she couldn’t even see him for the last time. 

The call was the most confusing moment she had ever gone through. He didn't even tell her he was going after his mom. He didn’t even get to explain that to her. Jason just burst through her window late at night, saying he was leaving Gotham for a few weeks, anger seeping through his pores and contaminating the room. His knuckles were badly bruised, as her fingertips lightly brushed he hissed. She didn’t question him, it didn’t even go through her head. He had said he wanted to find a part of him, and she nodded, wishing him luck. 

Looking back, she wished she had begged him to stay, to find that part of him in Gotham, with her away from the perils of foreign bombs. Tears sprouted in her eyes as the thought passed through her head. It wasn’t her fault, she couldn’t predict a tragedy would have happened. It had become a mantra to her, and sometimes repeating it to herself didn’t help at all.

Bruce Wayne stood next to her, stoic, his face stony. It almost didn’t look like he had lost a son. But she saw how his jaw tensed, how it was similar to when Jason was upset and didn’t want to tell her about it. She could see how broken he was inside, how angry and desperate. She felt that too. 

The priest stopped talking and the four people standing on that lawn let out a stuck breath of relief. Jason’s brother approached his Father, walking away from her. She stared at the stone, cold like Jason’s body, with the engrave ‘Jason Todd, beloved son and friend’. It didn’t make justice to what Jason actually was, he was much more than just a son and a friend, but it was what they used to describe him. If Jason had decided what his epitaph would be, surely would be a dramatic quote from Shakespeare. 

Her name was called out in a posh british accent and she turned toward the person. What she saw was an older gentleman, holding a black umbrella to protect his baldness from the sun. A thin mustache hung over his upper lip, molded into a sad frown. “I’m Alfred Pennyworth. Master Jason talked a lot about you,” he commented with his left hand behind his back.

“All good things, I hope?” she joked quietly, her eyes trailed to her black shoes, wet grass glued to the sides of it. 

“The best things, I assure,” his voice was firm and calm, his accent oozed her security, something she was eager to cling on. He reached for the inner pocket of his blazer, pulling a crisp white card. She furrowed her eyebrows, accepting the card. On it, it had Alfred’s name, his profession underneath and a phone number. “If you ever find yourself needing anything, I’ll be happy to help.”

She nodded, her thumb lightly brushing the expensive paper on her hand. “Thank you Mister Pennyworth,” her eyes found the old man, the wrinkles around it making his stern stance seem gentler. “Thank you.”

“Would you like to come over for some tea?” he offered. “I’m sure Master Bruce wouldn’t mind having his son’s friend over.”

She wanted to, a force inside her compelled her to accept his offer. But her heart was broken, and she didn’t know if she was ready to enter what used to be Jason’s home so fast after he was buried. At the same time, maybe she didn’t have the nerve to say no to such a kind person. “I--,” she hesitated, “okay, I’ll have some tea.”

#

#

Aged 18, mid-August.

“I don’t know what to do, Alfred,” her hands fiddling with the necklace Jason had given her long ago. “It feels like I’m at a crossroads and every sign points to the direction my heart doesn’t want to go.”

The old butler poured her mint tea - her favorite, as he had learned over the weekly visits she paid him - calmly and firmly as she ranted. “What is holding you back?”

She looked at Alfred, her eyes confused at the question. She hadn’t lingered on the fact of why she didn’t want to accept the scholarship on Metropolis. Her brain told her it was only logical, she would miss her parents, her weekly meeting with Alfred, her hometown. But Alfred was always one step ahead, he had a sixth sense as she had come to learn. “You know,” she replied softly, her eyes lingering on the beautiful teacup in front of her. 

He said her name, getting her attention. “Master Jason isn’t here anymore,” he stated simply, laying cookies on her plate, “you don’t have to stay behind for him.”

“I know,” she picked up the spoon and twirled it between her fingers. “But,” she hesitated, not knowing how to phrase her feelings, “Alfred, I can’t even think of it. I can’t wrap my brain around leaving him.”

“You are not leaving him,” his voice was calm and gentle, softening her panic. “You are moving on.”

She shook her head, her eyes shut close tightly. “It doesn’t feel like it,” she whispered, “I feel like I’m meant to be here, Alfred. I can’t really explain it.”

“Well, if you do decide to stay in Gotham, I hope we can continue our weekly teas,” Alfred said, a tone of hope in his voice. 

She smiled at him, her eyes filled with kindness. “If I do decide to stay, I’d love to keep our weekly teas,” her smile stayed as she uttered the words. “I appreciate our time together, Alfred.”

“I’m honored,” he said to her, bringing the teacup to his lips.

Heavy footsteps sounded behind her and she turned around to see who it was. Turning around, her hand bringing the teacup to her lips, she saw a disheveled Bruce Wayne walking towards her. His eyes were barely opened, prominent bags under his eyes cast a shadow on his features. His tie hung untied on his neck, his shirt over his pants, the sleeves folded up to his elbows. It was a stark contrast from the Bruce Wayne she had seen at Jason's funeral, two years back, the one she saw frequently splattered on the news front pages.  

“Oh,” he stopped on his tracks, his hands falling limply to his sides. His jaw tensed and, suddenly, a mask fell on his face, the vulnerability he displayed a few seconds before gone. He wasn’t anymore Bruce, a guy who had just woken up and wanted something from the kitchen of his oversized home, he was the Bruce Wayne, now. The velocity of the transformation haunted her. “I didn’t realize we had visitors.”

She rested the teacup pack on the counter, and got up from the stool. “I’m so sorry Mr. Wayne,” she muttered, extending her hand, introducing herself. “I am, was, Jason’s friend.”

“Yes, yes,” he nodded, “I remember you.”

Alfred looked pointenly at Bruce as pulled a mug from a cabinet. He poured coffee for himself, and leaned against the counter next to Alfred. She stood there next to her stool, paralyzed in his presence. Everytime she was present in Wayne Manor, Bruce was either too busy to ever grace them with his presence, or away on some business trip she never bothered to ask what for. “We have weekly teas, Master Bruce,” Alfred said, his tone laced with something deeper than announcing their weekly traditions. 

Bruce’s jaw tightened somehow and his blue eyes rested on her. Her eyes drifted to her teacup, her tea getting cold. She was itching to grab it and drink it, but she felt uncomfortable even moving a inch from her place, much less feeling the liberty to resume her previous behavior. “Really?” his eyebrows shot up, his head tilting slightly. “Please, seat, pretend I’m not here.”

She hesitated before sitting back down. Her hands hugged her teacup, the warmth of it seeping through her skin. It was hard to pretend he was not there next to her, looking at her with judging eyes. She wondered if he remembered her from the funeral, if he had thought of her when he was thinking of Jason’s legacy, what his son had left behind. Her eyes looked up at Bruce before quickly darting back down to her tea, “Yeah, I don’t really wanna go to Metropolis,” she whispered, resuming her previous conversation with Alfred. The air in the kitchen was tense and awkward, she couldn’t look any of them men in the room in the eyes. 

“I’m certain Gotham U will admit you,” Alfred reassured her, “You’re a brilliant person, they’d be fools to let you go.”

“Thank you, Alfred,” her eyes were focused on the tea, like it was the most important thing in that kitchen. “They usually don’t take this long to send the letters, it’s making me nervous.”

“Gotham U, huh?” Bruce chipped in. “What’s your major?”

She looked expantly at Alfred, trying to see if he knew any of Bruce’s intentions. But she often forgot how impassive Alfred was, how in control of his emotions he was, something she lacked. He didn’t show her anything, she assumed he knew of something, like usually. “Applied physics,” she responded, quietly. 

“Wow,” Bruce breathed out, “impressive.”

She offered him an awkward smile in return. It was hard to find a response to the reaction of others when they became aware of her major. It was highly uncommon, and usually those who followed that path were men. When people discovered what she wanted to do with her life, they almost always reacted like they had found an unicorn.

“Well, when you do graduate, look for me, I can help you get a job,” Bruce politely offered, his tone kind. She looked up at him for the first time, his expression almost fatherly. 

“Thank you Mr. Wayne, that’s very kind of you,” she bored her head, looking down at her tea once again. 

His phone rang, and he picked it up from his pocket. Her eyes trailed over to his expression, his jaw once again tense. “You’re welcome,” he replied, feigning happiness and comfort. “If you’ll excuse me,” he left the kitchen in broad steps, his shoulders tense and determined. 

That was the first time she came to the conclusion that Bruce Wayne was a strange man. 

#

#

Aged 22, end of May.

College was an excruciating experience, but finally she had left it all behind. With her diploma in hands, she finally felt a small semblance of freedom, something she had longed when isinde the four walls of her old dorm in Gotham U. 

She stepped into the ground floor of Wayne towers, her shoes clicking nervously on the floor. She had made sure to dress properly to meet Bruce Wayne, unsure of what he’d think if she showed up dressed like a broke college student, something that she very much was. It was the mentality of fake it till you make it, aim a bit higher and maybe you’ll get there. She desperately wished she’d get there.

One of the receptionists let her in, indicating the floor in which she should go to. Her hands sweat gripping the folder with her recommendations and her resume, she gulped looking at the elevator intently. Her free hand found its way to the tiny robin gently resting on her neck. She wished Jason was there to help her, give her tips on what to say to his Father to make him glad, and what to avoid doing so that he’d hire her. She could imagine him if she closed her eyes, next to her, barely taller than her, smiling at her wishing her good luck. The elevator dinged, bringing her back to reality. Jason wasn’t next to her, and she didn’t have anyone to give her tips on what to say to her potential boss. She was alone, just like she had been for six long years. 

In spite of the hundred floors of the building - quite literally - the elevator ride was fast. When the doors opened, it revealed a small greeting room, with a couple of couches and a tall window illuminating it. She eyed directly in front of her, the double doors with a tiny plaque with the name Bruce Wayne engraved on it. Her eyes lingered on it for a couple of moments, as she walked towards the lonesome couch next to the big window. She took a deep breath, trying to calm the beating heart. She wondered if Bruce was already inside the room, if he remembered what he had offered to her all those years ago, or if he had just been polite and did not plan on following with it at all. 

After that strange meeting with him four years back, she had barely seen him again. A couple of times she had seen a shadow passing through the corridors while she was heading out of the Manor, someone she assumed for the sake of her mental health it was Bruce Wayne and not a ghost. The notion that he was a strange man only intensified, adding the perception that he was hiding something. She knew he was a good actor, but she could see tiny cracks and slips, an ability gained from years of loneliness. It was hard to say what it was that he was keeping a secret from everyone, but there was something there. 

Her name was called and she saw Bruce Wayne standing underneath the frame of the double doors that lead to his office. She got up promptly and walked towards him, her grip on her folder tight. His hand was extended and she shook it professionally, pretending like she wasn’t panicking inside. 

“I have someone I’d like for you to meet,” he stated, guiding her inside his office. The office was probably four times bigger than the small room she had stayed previously, the large windows providing a beautiful view from Gotham. You could almost pretend it was a normal city looking out from that window. “This,”  he motioned to the man sitting on a cozy nook in the back of the room, “is Lucius Fox.”

The man was big and well built, his round glasses standing on the tip of his nose. He smiled at her, crinkles forming beside his eyes. His hand found his glasses, taking them off and putting them in his pocket. “Nice to meet you, Miss. mr. Wayne has talked a lot about you,” he stated, his hand extended for her to take it. 

She looked back at Bruce, confused. After all, he remembered her and he remembered his offer. She turned back to Lucius and shook his hand, a determined expression on her face. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Fox.”

“Lucius Fox is the head of our R&D department, and has agreed to take you as his personal apprentice,” Bruce explained. 

Shock overcame her, her eyes wide. She looked between Lucius’ kind smile and Bruce’s stoic stance, unable to believe the opportunity was real. “Really?” she uttered incredulously. 

“I have some personal projects and I’d very much need the help,” Lucius explained, calmly. “Mr. Wayne has talked highly of you, I’m eager to see what you’re capable of doing.”

“I--,” she shook her head, trying to get rid of the hesitation, “thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome,” Bruce responded, a small smile gracing his lips. “I’m sure you’ll do great.”

#

#

Aged 24, April 26th.

The humid air of the cave made sweat drip down her face as she tinkered away with a broken gadget she had designed for Bruce’s night time activities, as she had so dearly called it. 

It was a new development, the cave and the capes and the vigilantism. The two years she invested working with Lucius all served a greater purpose to Bruce. She was to be the next Lucius Fox, help provide Batman, or rather Bruce - in her head it was still confusing to assume that the guy who had given her a job was the ‘Dark Knight’ - with gadgets capable of doing everything that his physical capabilities couldn’t. Lucius was old and reaching retirement, and even if he loved his job, he was reaching his limit. She was beyond grateful for his guidance, she had learned so much. But he had left her a fucking weird job. There was no other way to describe it. 

The cave was quiet, Bruce had left sometime before, she could only hear Alfred quietly talking to Bruce through the comms and the drip-drip of water falling from the ceiling and hitting the small lake underneath her. She had settled in a little abandoned nook, her tools all scattered on top of her table. She rested the screw driver she was working with on the table, lifting the magnifying lens. She rubbed her face, tired of looking towards the tiny malfunctioning screen.

Her hands remained on her face, concealing her emotions. The robin pendant always felt especially heavy on the 26th of April. It had been 8 years since she had seen Jason, and as pathetic as it sounded, she never really got over the loss of him. They always felt particularly lost, she couldn’t focus on anything other than him, running circles around any problem presented to her. Looking at the gadget, it felt nearly impossible to find a solution to it, her mind foggy with sadness and grief that she could never really shake off, even with years between her and the day he had died. 

The knowledge that Bruce kept everything as Jason had left, and even made a little homage to his Robin days in a secret corner of the cave, hidden from view, was heavy in her heart. She struggled to keep her eyes trailed to her task and not at the memory of Jason. She took a sharp breath, trying desperately to sew herself together. It was truly pathetic how much it still affected her, how open the wound still was. 

A sharp motor sound echoed through the walls of the cave, disturbing the few bats that hung from the ceiling. A guy built like a fucking brick wall parked his bike on the platform, taking long strides towards where Alfred stood. He adorned a cracked red helmet that glistened in the white lights that illuminated the pathway. His heavy footsteps echoed through, her eyes unable to escape from him. She approached silently, praying that that loose panel near the little stairs that lead to the main computer wouldn’t scratch underneath her weight. 

“Where the fuck is Bruce?” he growled, his hands balled into fists next to him. His leather jacket was worn and old, its sleeves bunched up near his elbow, exposing his veiny forearms. The cracked part of the helmet revealed his blue eyes, sparkling in a familiar way. It tugged her heartstrings, her hand instinctively went to her robin. It couldn’t be, Jason was dead. 

“He’s on patrol, Master Jason,” Alfred said calmly, his eyes trailed to the screens in front of him. Alfred acted like this man’s fits of anger were completely normal. 

Her brain repeated that it wasn’t Jason, it was a mere coincidence that this man’s name was the same as her dead best friend’s. Jason was a tiny and scrawny kid, he wasn’t tall and thick like this man. Jason wasn’t bitter and prone to anger fits, even if he was angry most of the time. He was silent and kind and sweet, this man looked to be the opposite of it. 

“He promised, Alfred, where is he?” he growled, his fist slamming on the table. “He fucking promised.”

“I’m sure he’ll arrive soon, if you’d like to wait,” Alfred motioned to the medical bay, the gurney sitting there on its lonesome. The man huffed, marching to the gurney, otherwise ignoring her presence a few feet away. 

She approached Alfred quietly. “Who was that?” her voice laced with curiosity and fear. 

Alfred looked at her serenely, knowing something she didn’t. He smiled at her, teh crinkles around his eyes appearing generously. “Why don’t you find out?,” he responded to her camly. 

She took it as an order, and made her way towards the small infirmary area. Her footsteps were light and determined, her hand clutching the robbing resting on her chest tightly. Her brain ran over scenarios on how likely it was that this person had almost every physical attribute to her best friend Jason, if he had taken steroids for the past 8 years. It wasn’t likely, but in light of her new knowledge, of how close the supernatural was to her, it was very much possible. 

“Do you want me to take a look?” she asked quietly, shifting the weight from her heels to the tips of her toes. She felt so small in his presence, something she didn’t feel with Bruce, oddly. Maybe it was because Bruce didn’t give off such menacing vibes when he was near her, or maybe it was because her brain was unconsciously comparing this man to her Jason, who had always been smaller than her. “At the helmet, I mean.”

He eyed her surgically, analyzing everything about her. His eyes rested on her pendants, widening slightly in recognition. It took almost everything in her to control her beating heart, to control her brain trying to say that in fact that man before her was her Jason, and it wasn’t her brain playing tricks on her. 

He gently took his helmet off, revealing his crisp black hair cooly laying on his forehead. His eyes focused on the helmet, his arms extended to give it to her gently. Her eyes would leave his face, a face she had longed to see for eight excruciatingly long years. His eyes had remained the same, after all: kind and sweet. His face, however, told a story of hardships and pain, hardened by whatever he had been through all these years. She didn’t know how to feel, if she should feel betrayed he hadn't trusted her enough to say that he was alive, that he was six feet under anymore, or if she should feel elated that Jason was alive and she could finally tell him all the things she wanted to.

Her fingers brushed him slightly, as she picked up the broken helmet from his hands. His hands still felt the same, her heart noticed, picking up a beat. She looked at the crack that exposed half of his face, the electrical parts fizzling dangerously. Her eyes focused on Jason once again, her lips shut painfully. The tears that came to her eyes were inevitable, trembling fingers reaching at her robin pendant, clutching it tightly. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

“Don’t,” he shook his head gently, “it’s not your fault.”

She could see he wanted to touch her, but something held him back. She wouldn’t find out what until much later.  

#

#

Aged 24, August 16th. 

Jason had promised her he would show up, and he never broke his promises. That was what she repeated to herself, late at night. She had prepared everything for his birthday, bought a present for him and baked a cake. She had said that he was supposed to appear at seven. It was well past midnight, the cake had found its way back to the fridge, the present was back in her closet, and he hadn’t showed up yet. 

A part of her kept telling her to give up, her best friend had stood her up: Jason changed fundamentally, he wasn’t the same boy he was when she met him and it was foolish to hang on to that notion; it was perfectly plausible that he had the habit of breaking promises now.  But she was well aware of that, she saw it in the tiny things how much Jason was transformed, it still didn’t change the fact that she knew he valued loyalty above all else, and that included loyalty to his words. He wouldn’t break his promise to her. 

She changed out of the cute dress she was wearing, feeling foolish and sad that she was about to give up most of the hope that he would show up. Her pyjamas welcomed her comfortably, a safe space to let the heartbreak settle on her. He won’t break his promise, she repeated mentally, he won’t. The mantra did little to soothe the growing dread inside her, the notion that maybe she didn’t know him as well as she did. That he didn’t tell her everything that day, that he didn’t trust her anymore. It hurt more than she anticipated. 

Sleep was almost consuming her when she heard a loud clang outside her bedroom. She shook awake, throwing the covers off her instinctively. Her hand grabbed the baseball bat that rested beside her bed, bringing it up and close to her. With slow steps, she approached the window. Her fear settled when she saw the familiar red helmet staring back at her, begging to let him in. She dropped the bat on the floor, opening the window. 

He got in her room awkwardly, struggling to pass his huge frame through a tiny space. She reached to help him, offering her hands. He took them, butterflies running amok on her tummy. “You’re late,” she commented, trying to mask the hurt in her voice. 

“I know,” he said, taking off his helmet and dropping it on top of her bed. “I’m sorry.”

She hummed looking at him underneath the moonlight seeping through her window. She hadn’t gotten used to how big he became, and how smaller she felt in his presence. She was by no means a small woman, but his entire being could encapsulate her with a simple hug, and not the other way around like it used to be. “Why are you late?” she moved to sit on the bed, the helmet rolling off the bed delicately. 

He looked at her, sitting down next to her gently. “I don’t know,” he answered, rubbing his hands together, his elbows resting on his thighs. 

“Why do I feel like you’re not being honest with me?” her head tilted, looking at his beautiful profile. There was a scar connecting his right temple to the corner of his upper lip, and it made him even more beautiful than he already was. He fascinated her to no end, his brain, his looks, his entire being was what made her keep going, the light on the end of her tunnel. 

His eyes trailed over her face, looking for something she guessed he wouldn’t find. “Why are you always so nice to me?”

“What do you mean, Jason,” she breathed out, confused at the inquiry. “I’m your friend, I’m supposed to be nice to you.”

“No, you’re not,” he shook his head, his hands balled into fists and his eyes closed. “You’re not supposed to be kind to me,” he got up, his back towards her.

“Stop it, Jason, you’re scaring me,” she whispered, her voice shaking a bit. 

“You’re supposed to be angry at me. I abandoned you, left you alone, and when I came back I didn’t tell you, I didn’t look for you,” he continued, trying to manipulate her emotions.

“Why are you saying these things, Jason, they’re not true,” she got up, her voice no longer shaking, determined and focused. 

“Because I don’t deserve it,” he turned to her, his eyes tortured and sad. “I don’t deserve your kindness and friendship. I’m not worthy of it.”

“Jay, I--” she started, but Jason interrupted her. 

“Don’t, please. I’m not worthy of anyone’s love,” his voice was heavy with emotion. She discovered that Jason was often ruled by two main emotions: sadness and anger. In that moment, she could only see those in him and a part of her broke.

“That’s not true, you’re worthy of mine,” her voice was so honest and raw, it caught Jason by surprise. She didn’t know what he expected out of her at that moment, maybe to give in to his spiral of bad thoughts and self flagellation, but she refused to let him believe those awful things. “Jason, you really don't know?”

He remained in silence, his eyes wide and shocked, focused on the ground. His jaw was tense and his hands balled into fists tightly. She took a hesitant step towards him, reaching for his hands. They relaxed under her touch and she threaded her fingers through his. It wasn’t hard to notice how perfectly they fit with each other, like to halves of a whole. “I’ve loved you ever since I was 14 and you marched into the boys bathroom to get my lit homework back from Mason Anderson,” she whispered, her eyes focused on his face, while his were focused on their hands together. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it before, I’m so sorry it took me so long to say it, Jay. But I can’t let you believe all those horrible things you said. Not when I love you more than anything in this world.”

He stayed silent for a couple of moments, her heart beating erratically inside her chest, fearing she had screwed up their friendship for good. In a way, it was worst to know he was out there and didn't want to speak to her because she dared to tell him about her love for him. “Please say something,” she begged him quietly. 

His eyes finally found hers, his hands breaking the link they formed. He rested his hands on her cheeks gently, and she dared say, lovingly. Her heart started beating excitedly, the fear slowly dissipating as his gaze got more intense. 

His lips brushed against hers, her eyes fluttering closed at the contact. He kissed her gently, a love delicate and fragile, just acknowledged between them both. His grip on her was firm, his thumb grazing delicately on her cheekbones. Her hands thread through his soft hair, still slightly humid from the sweat caused by the helmet. The air was charged with want, tentative kiss toeing the line between what it was and something more. 

She wished to stay like that forever. She prayed to  whatever was out there in the Universe, to allow her that happiness. To stay kissing her love tentatively in the dark for as long as she could, as long as he’d let her. 

Jason broke the kiss, his forehead resting on hers. His fingers found their way to the back of her head, cupping it softly. “I love you,” he whispered, his lips almost brushing with hers. She reached for his lips once again, like a magnet finding its match. “I love you so much,” he reassured.

They kissed once again, not intending to break apart any time soon. 

[zintranslations]

Kaleidoscope of Death, Ch. 131

Kaleidoscope of Death by Xi Zixu Link to Chinese / Novel Updates

Chapter 131: Ghosts

Behind the elevator door was a dim corridor that looked no different from normal. Yet, dispersed through the air was the faint, identifiably gamy scent of blood. It was reminding Lin Qiushi that things weren't as simple as they seemed.

Lin Qiushi took a step forward, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible. When he got outside of the apartment, however, just as he turned a corner, he saw three identical little girls in dresses standing before him.

They stood around a huge birthday cake, on which was stuck a thicket of white candles. The cake appeared to be on the verge of melting, and the red liquid that kept dripping out of it was precisely the source of the scent that Lin Qiushi smelled. Worse was that on the top of the cake, a woman's severed head had been placed. Her eyes remained open, watching Lin Qiushi and refusing to be resigned to her fate; she even batted her eyes at Lin Qiushi.

The tableau was grotesque and chilling. Seeing them, Lin Qiushi remembered the door he'd passed with the Fitcher's Bird hint. Without question, these were the triplets that Lin Qiushi had once met inside the door…

The triplets stood in the entrance, heads twisting about to face Lin Qiushi. Stiff smiles tugged up their faces, and from their lips poured the little happy birthday ditty. One of the girls slowly lifted a hand and pointed at the top of his head, and she said, "Xiao-gege, won't you eat cake with us?"

Hearing her question, Lin Qiushi didn't dare answer. He turned around and left for another exit.

Good thing that the triplets only watched him go with no intent of pursuing.

Lin Qiushi ran quickly. It was a moment's work to get to the door, but just as he was about to go out, he recalled what one of the triplets had done—she'd pointed to the top of his head. What did this gesture mean? Could there be something on the ceiling?

Honestly, under circumstances such as these, nobody would be happy to look up at the ceiling. Yet Lin Qiushi still got out his cell phone, turned on the flashlight, and slowly looked up, casting the beam of light in his hand toward the ceiling. He kept his motions slow, ready to run at any moment, but what made him breathe out a sigh of relief was that the ceiling was completely clear. There was nothing on it—

When he saw this, Lin Qiushi put his phone away, exhaled, and left the building. But right before he let the foyer, a sense of danger that was difficult to describe suddenly assaulted the top of his head. On instinct, Lin Qiushi's feet stepped back. And it was precisely at this second that a corpse fell straight down from the building rooftop, smashing onto the ground at Lin Qiushi's feet. It was obvious that had he not stayed his feet right here, he'd have been hit by this corpse.

The corpse fell from above and broke into pieces. The skull looked like a watermelon dropped from up high, splattering all over the ground. But judging from its outer apparel and the thing in its hand, this was precisely the man who'd blockaded the door of Lin Qiushi's apartment with an axe. Lin Qiushi didn't know why he'd fallen.

Lin Qiushi skirted around his corpse and quickly entered the residential district. He stepped across the gravel path and cast a glance back at the apartment behind him. There he saw, crouched against the outer wall of the apartment, a human figure crawling slowly downward from above, unheeding of gravity. Through the faint light coming from the hallways, Lin Qiushi could just manage to make out who the person was…it was Wang Xiaoyi, who'd had her skull split clean in half. Wang Xiaoyi clambered slowly down from the wall to where Cheng Wen's corpse had fallen, burying her face in that body and beginning to chew, as if a beast that had spotted a meal.

Lin Qiushi only took one look before turning away. Perhaps it was the hot weather, perhaps it was the sheer intensity of the developments so far, but all up and down his body he was covered in sweat. Perspiration dripped from his chin as Lin Qiushi walked along the district, taking in his surroundings. For a moment he felt struck; he sensed that there was no safe place here, and out of every shadow-wrapped corner a monster could emerge.

Lin Qiushi headed for the exit, and saw to his surprise two people standing at the district entrance. Lin Qiushi saw their faces, and even clearly remembered their names—Xiong Qi, Xiao Ke. They were two of the people Lin Qiushi had met inside his very first door.

Xiong Qi and Xiao Ke seemed to have spotted Lin Qiushi also, waving their arms at him from afar and calling, "hurry up, get over here!"

Lin Qiushi's footsteps were hesitant. He couldn't be sure whether the two people who'd appeared here were ghosts or not.

"Baijie told us to come get you," Xiao Ke called to him. "It's too dangerous where you live. Baijie had us come to take you to her—"

Lin Qiushi began to frown. He looked behind him, but both Wang Xiaoyi and Cheng Wen had disappeared into the night. The inky black apartment complexes, however, still gave off a strong sense of unease. Lin Qiushi approached, but didn't get too close.

"Baijie had you come get me?" Lin Qiushi asked Xiao Ke.

"Yeah," Xiao Ke said. "She didn't want anything happening to you, so she sent us especially."

"Where is she now?" Lin Qiushi asked.

"Her? She's at her home, waiting for us to head over," Xiao Ke answered. "Get in. We'll explain everything in the car." Then she pulled open the car door, gesturing for Lin Qiushi to quickly get inside.

Lin Qiushi got to the car door and glanced inside.

Xiao Ke was still urging him from behind and seemed to be in quite a rush. Lin Qiushi, however, noticed something, and his foot, halfway lifted to enter the car, suddenly halted.

"What's with you?" Xiao Ke asked. "That thing is coming, stop wasting time."

"If you really came at Baijie's request, then you must know her real name?" Lin Qiushi's foot retracted. With his eyes to the ground, his feet carried him slowly backwards.

Xiao Ke's brows furrowed. "I know her real name, I just can't say it here. Something else will hear it. Hurry up already…" When she saw the unmoving Lin Qiushi however, her voice got more and more angry, and in the end was practically roaring as she said, "I'm telling you to get in! There's not much time left!!"

As soon as he saw this, Lin Qiushi turned and ran, ignoring Xiao Ke and Xiong Qi's yells. Xiao Ke could only watch Lin Qiushi go, a sharp screech leaving her mouth. And just as Lin Qiushi turned the corner back into the micro-district, a large shadow appeared on the other end of the street.

It was a gigantic woman. Her figure was strange, and in her hands she dragged along a long-handled axe. Slowly, she approached Xiao Ke and Xiong Qi.

Both Xiao Ke and Xiong Qi looked to be in terrorized despair. They hurried into the car, trying to start the engine and leave, but at this precise moment the car was turned to paper paste. Seated inside, the two naturally couldn't leave.

The woman approached the two and raised her arms, lifting the axe high up above her head. Then, she brought it down, splitting Xiao Ke right into two.

And Xiong Qi was next. The two of them were bisected at the waist, horrible wails coming out of their mouths. Yet they weren't dying. They continued struggling on the ground.

Lin Qiushi hid in a corner of the micro-district and saw it all. He had a hand up to cover his mouth, scared that the sound of his breathing would be too loud and attract the attention of the giant woman outside. This monster was the one that had formed out of the religious statue in the old temple from Lin Qiushi's first door. After she killed Xiong Qi and Xiao Ke with her axe, she looked all around. But failing to discover Lin Qiushi, she took her axe and left.

Split in halves, Xiong Qi and Xiao Ke did not die. They lied on the asphalt road keening. Xiao Ke was spitting all the most poisonous cuss words, and seemed to be cursing Lin Qiushi.

Lin Qiushi didn't know what happened to Xiong Qi and Xiao Ke inside the door after he'd left, but judging by the experience he'd accumulated, these two weren't some do-gooders either. Rather, they seemed like the sorts of veterans who got close to newbies with ulterior motives in mind. But luckily Lin Qiushi and met Ruan Nanzhu, and so had managed to avoid it all. As for their fates inside the door at the end, Lin Qiushi didn't know…

The reason he'd discovered something was off about Xiao Ke was that just now, under the streetlight, he'd seen only his own shadow being cast. Xiao Ke and Xiong Qi underneath the same light did not make any sort of shadow. This was what had tipped Lin Qiushi off, and so he'd decisively turned, and managed to dodge the entire ordeal.

It was in this moment that Lin Qiushi gained a better understanding of what "No Solution" meant in the hint. There was no solution to this door; the path to live hidden inside could be the tiniest detail, yet that was the way to survive. Of course, whether or not they could discover it was based on their own luck.

Lin Qiushi stood there in the residential block not knowing where to go. He knew he ought to go though, because that happy birthday song was getting louder and clearer, rapidly approaching him.

So Lin Qiushi stood up, trotting carefully out of the neighborhood. He glanced back, and sure enough, saw those triplets pushing the cake and heading in his direction. The skull on the top of the cake pivoted in a slow circle and tossed a hateful glower his way.

But Lin Qiushi was already used to such a glare. He stared impassively back, even eyeing back some contempt of his own.

The triplets began to giggle despite this. They stood at the neighborhood entrance and watched as Lin Qiushi disappeared again into the darkness at the other end of the road. Getting up on tiptoes, they hugged the skull at the top of the cake and gave it each a kiss, happily calling Mama, Mama, Mama.

Lin Qiushi walked along the asphalt with only the fuzzy light of the streetlamps lighting the path beneath his feet.

What had been lively shops all around were closed. This felt like a whole other world, one that knew only death and terror.

Lin Qiushi stared at his phone for a good while. He wanted to give Ruan Nanzhu a call and ask how he was doing, but was also worried about Ruan Nanzhu facing down a critical moment—and this call of his could mean Ruan Nanzhu's life, just like that.

After momentary consideration, Lin Qiushi sent Ruan Nanzhu a text, asking how he was doing.

It took a while later for the other side to reply: I'm playing hide-and-seek with something weird.

Though the words were flippant, it was easy to read the deadly intent between the lines. Lin Qiushi laughed, pained: Hide-and-seek? Which door of yours is that?

Ruan Nanzhu: Second.

Lin Qiushi: What was the hint?

Ruan Nanzhu: The hint was…hide-and-seek.

Lin Qiushi, "…" A few simple words sent a layer of cold sweat dotting over his back again. He was even growing agitated; he wanted so badly to go to Ruan Nanzhu's side right now and experience everything with him. This sort of intention though was difficult to manifest at a time like this. Lin Qiushi looked at his watch and saw that it was 2AM—there were still three to four hours before daybreak.

She's coming. Gotta go babe, I love you—this was the last text Ruan Nanzhu sent to Lin Qiushi that night.

Reading that message, Lin Qiushi's heart was filled to the brim with anxiety. But he didn't know where Ruan Nanzhu was, nor what Ruan Nanzhu was going through; how utterly helpless he was in this moment. There was nothing he could do.

Lin Qiushi followed the road and kept moving ahead. There didn't seem to be an end, until Lin Qiushi came upon an intersection. From far away, Lin Qiushi could see a person crouching in the center of the intersection. That person had their back to him, their head down as they stuffed a burning furnace before them full of something.

When Lin Qiushi saw this person he didn't dare get too close. Observing from afar, he discovered that the person was burning hell money for the dead.

The joss paper, burned to ashes, spiraled upwards into the inky night sky. As preparation to enter the doors, Lin Qiushi had learned quite a number of folk lore and legends. He knew that hell money, once burned to ashes, had its specific meanings, like that if it made a spiral, then the people in hell had received it…

As Lin Qiushi hesitantly watched the scene before him and debated whether or not to turn back, he heard a chilling set of footsteps coming from behind him.

Lin Qiushi looked back. Through the darkness of night, he saw coming from the other end of the road a giant figure. The figure was backlit, and though it couldn't be clearly seen, judging by its silhouette it was precisely that female ghoul that had split both Xiong Qi and Xiao Ke in half earlier.

The surrounding area was empty, and there was nothing Lin Qiushi could hide behind. With no other option available to him, Lin Qiushi could only move forward, sticking to the wall as he tried to cross the intersection before him.

As he walked, he kept a careful eye on the old man burning joss paper in the middle of the road. He'd likely seen this person before too, but because it had been such a long time, he didn't really remember.

Just as he was about to cross the intersection, he saw the old man stick a hand into the burning cinders. His body began to charcoal immediately after. Lin Qiushi, however, caught the soft words coming out of his mouth. He was saying: "The dead, the dead…only the dead can escape." Right after, his entire upright body became a charred corpse, and the monster behind them seemed to have sniffed out the odd scent around here, and so quickened her footsteps.

The monster was enormous, and as for the axe in her hand, the head sometimes would glance off the ground, and the noise of metal grinding against stone would sound.

Lin Qiushi didn't dare linger here any longer, sprinting full speed ahead. As he ran, he didn't neglect to keep an eye on his surroundings, and so discovered something changing around him.

White lanterns and flower wreathes had appeared on the front door of the shops, just like at a memorial service.

The thing that halted Lin Qiushi's footsteps was a black coffin placed by the roadside. It had suddenly appeared, lying straight and neat right there on the pavement.

The monster behind him seemed to have detected Lin Qiushi's presence as well, and came running for him. If she continued at the same speed, Lin Qiushi would be caught in minutes.

Panting, Lin Qiushi stared at the black coffin in front of him. A crazy idea surfaced in his mind. He knew there was no time to hesitate, so he walked straight over to the coffin and pushed the top open with all his might.

Lin Qiushi thought the coffin would be empty. Only upon opening it did he discover there was a corpse inside. Strangely enough, the corpse seemed a bit familiar, like he'd seen it somewhere before—but Lin Qiushi couldn't care about all that. With a clench of his teeth he crawled right in, and sealed the coffin lid above him.

Tap…Tap…Tap…

Through the coffin, Lin Qiushi could hear the monster's footsteps grow closer and closer, finally coming to a stop somewhere in his vicinity. Her nose was twitching as she tried to sniff out of the air which direction her prey had gone off in.

Then it seemed like some smell had interrupted her search. With a low, strange call, the monster left, her sounds slowly fading.

Lin Qiushi lied in the coffin, expression mostly frozen. It seemed that the corpse beside him had just died, for its flesh was still soft, and even carried with it a bit of lingering body heat. Lin Qiushi internally chanted pardon me, pardon me as he waited for the sounds outside to disappear.

Just as he got ready to lift the coffin lid above him, however, he felt a hand suddenly catch him by the arm.

"!!"

When he was caught, Lin Qiushi almost yelled, but another hand came up and covered his mouth, keeping the noise contained in his throat.

"It hasn't left yet."

And the corpse behind him was actually speaking. Though it was quiet, Lin Qiushi's eyes still went wide when he heard that voice—he was more than familiar with that cadence, it was Li Dongyuan!

The inside of the coffin was too dark; Lin Qiushi couldn't see anything. He was being held tightly by the corpse that sounded just like Li Dongyuan behind him, and his heart was beating so wildly that it felt like it was going to leap right out of his throat.

"It hasn't left yet," the person behind him said once again. Lin Qiushi kind of understood his meaning this time, that there was no need to keep struggling.

The silence continued for maybe another ten minutes or so, until Lin Qiushi heard a woman's furious roar. Only a thin plank of coffin wood separated them from this roar, so it was obvious that this thing was close—like it was practically right next to him. Had Lin Qiushi climbed out of the coffin earlier, he'd likely have been struck and killed like Xiong Qi and Xiao Ke had been earlier.

Then the woman's voice got further and further away. The corpse holding onto Lin Qiushi from behind also released him, and Lin Qiushi shoved open the coffin lid above his head. Finally, he could see the face of the person lying next to him—it was precisely that Li Dongyuan, who should already be dead.

"It's been a while." The corners of Li Dongyuan's eyes curved up as he showed Lin Qiushi a smile.

Lin Qiushi stared hard at him, like if he stared hard enough, he could force that face to change with sheer willpower.

"What are you looking at me like that for?" Li Dongyuan too sat up in the coffin and tidied his hair. "I saved you just now, you know. Are you not going to thank me?"

Lin Qiushi, "so are you…"

"Dead." Though Lin Qiushi hadn't finished speaking, Li Dongyuan had already guessed what he wanted to say, and was laughing heartily. "I'm dead."

Lin Qiushi watched him doubtfully, but Li Dongyuan just grabbed Lin Qiushi by the hand and pressed it to his chest. Sure enough, it was quiet there, with absolutely no sensation of a beating heart.

"You really are dead?" Lin Qiushi wiped at his face with a hand. "Then why are you here? Where is here, anyways?"

Though he heard Lin Qiushi's questions, Li Dongyuan only smiled without answering. He pointed above his head and said, "there's still a while until daybreak. Would you like to sleep some more?"

Lin Qiushi, "sleep where? In the coffin?"

Li Dongyuan, "the coffin's safer than all that running around you were doing."

Lin Qiushi wanted to say something more, but began to hear the sound of footsteps again. This time, without needing Li Dongyuan to do so, he closed the coffin lid on his own.

In the dark, the two people's gazes met. Lin Qiushi had too many questions he wanted to ask; he wanted to question Li Dongyuan about the situation they were in, but Li Dongyuan didn't seem keen on answering any of those questions.

"I know what you want to ask," Li Dongyuan said as such. "But I can't give you answers, because I don't really understand myself."

"Do you remember your own death?" Lin Qiushi asked.

"Of course I do," Li Dongyuan said. "I even remember jumping out of the building." A touch of loneliness bled into his voice. "Who knows how that girl's doing though."

"Zhuang Rujiao?" Lin Qiushi said. "She's doing great. She took over White Deer for you."

After a moment's silence, Li Dongyuan's laugh was bitter.

"How is that great?"

Seeing the young girl under his care grow up was not actually anything like a happy experience, because growth inevitably came with a painful price to pay.

So the two quieted down again. Lin Qiushi stared at the coffin lid above his head, spacing out. He didn't dare say too much, because that thing was still prowling about around him.

Time ticked on by seconds, by minutes. Then it was nearly five, and daybreak seemed imminent.

Drowsiness coiled around Lin Qiushi. He wanted to stay strong, but had never felt such urge to sleep as this.

"Sleep," came Li Dongyuan's voice. "I'll see you tomorrow night."

Lin Qiushi closed his eyes and fell deeply asleep.

This sleep was spectacularly deep. By the time he woke again, the sky was already bright. He got up and saw that he was lying in his own bed, with Chestnut on the pillow beside him, watching him like a good little pet.

There were no monsters, no blood. The door was also perfectly fine. Everything that occurred the night before was all as if a strange nightmare. Lin Qiushi let out a long breath, picked up his phone, and once again dialed a number.

After a few seconds of waiting, a completely unsurprising voice recording sounded on the other side. The phone number that went through during the night had become unconnected once more. Lin Qiushi flipped through his messages and also couldn't see the text Ruan Nanzhu sent him.

"Fine," Lin Qiushi said to himself. "See you tonight."

[Ch. 130] | [Ch. 132]

[lustbile-archive]

Abandoned

MarkxReader

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary/Warnings: Smut. Exploring an abandoned building with your friend on halloween sounds like a terrible idea, but what happens isn’t terrible, only incredibly weird. Monster!Mark. (also I feel like this may be the weirdest thing i’ve written so take that as you will)

Part 2 Here

This is the final installment of my halloween fic week. Info about blurb night here

You’re not sure why you let your friend convince you to go in the abandoned building at all, but on halloween night of all nights, you’re sure you must have had a death wish.

Firstly, the building didn’t even look safe. Even on a good day with the sun out and the birds singing, the building was old and run down, the only thing really remaining being a rotting shell. And the building itself even had a reputation. Older people in your town spread rumors about monsters that lived there and accidental deaths that occurred when there was still work being done within its walls, and of course you never took it to heart, but something about the chill in the air and the nature of the holiday made the old wives tales swirl in your mind and tug at your nerves.

But regardless of your fear, you went anyways. Your best friend had a sparkling look in her eye that made it virtually impossible to deny her of a creepy venture into the hazardous building, so with an agreement that you couldn’t leave each other’s sides and a 30 minute time limit, you hesitantly entered one of its broken door ways.

It wasn’t bad at first, enough so that you didn’t even feel scared anymore. Yeah it was old, and gross, but still empty. Wood creaked and the floor sunk in a few places, mysterious dried liquid dripped from the floors above and there was a faint stench of rotting, but in the end it was just a building.

As you walked through the rooms, each of you trying to find the grossest thing to jokingly gag at, you could feel your guard falling. Even a large rat running past you only got a yelp from the two of you, but you continued on.

And maybe you got too comfortable. You and your friend would take turns running ahead a few times, hiding behind walls to jump out at each other, and the 30 minute time limit was long forgotten, the you that existed before you entered the building would be disappointed. But the you that existed before you entered would be downright disgusted by what you did next.

“It looks so pretty,” you drawl out with a grin on your face as you stand in one of the building’s many hallways, the glimmering glass that’s scattered on the floor of the room catching your eye as you stare through its door’s small window.

“I dunno,” you friend hesitates as she squeezes her face next to yours, “it’s pretty and all but I’m afraid it could cut up my feet, like there’s so much glass.”

“That’s what you get for wearing sandals to go through an abandoned building you freak,” you tease as you pull away from the window, a faux look of disappointment on your face, “c’mon I just wanna get a couple of pictures please?”

“And no ones stopping you,” she retorts as she mirrors your stance, “I’m just not going to go in with you because I don't want bloody feet.”

“Are you serious right now?” you gawk, a petulant pout falling on your face, “you promised we wouldn’t split up.”

“And we don’t have to,” she says before turning to walk away, her smug voice carrying over her shoulder, “it just depends on how badly you want that picture.”

You standby there for a moment, watching her slowly retreating form with your arms crossed defiantly over your shoulders . You glance between the dark corridor that she enters and the room to your side a few times before you huff.

“Well, don’t go too far!” you yell out before turning and opening the door, “I’ll just take a few pictures so I won’t be long!”

You only hear her response of agreement faintly as the door shuts behind you, the heavy metal closing with a loud bang and making you jump.

The air is a few degrees cooler than it was in the hallway, the bite of it making a chill run up your spine. Your hand shakes as you pull your phone from the pocket of your skirt and squat down to begin taking pictures.

The flash of your phone makes the glass shine beautifully, a bright shimmer that makes small rainbows dance across the walls. Your shoes drag through the piles of glass as you move around, a quiet crunching noise following you everywhere you move.

You’re moving to the far corner of the room when you see it, a pitch black closet that’s missing it’s door, the placement of it making it impossible to see from the hall. Just looking at it makes your skin crawl, and you stay with your back pressed to the opposite wall.

“Just a few more,” you murmur to yourself, squatting down again to get a better angle. Your flash only goes off a few times before you see it.

You try to tell yourself that it’s just your imagination, that the eerie feeling of the building and the fact that you’re on your own is just making you see things. But as you lift your phone towards the doorway of the closet and take another picture you see it again for the split second the flash is on.

You’re frozen in your spot and your stomach turns as your brain tries to wrap itself around what stands in front of you. The outline of a figure burned into your eyes as you felt your rapidly beating heart clog your throat.

You try to convince yourself that maybe it’s an old vacuum or broom that you saw incorrectly, but as you find the strength to lift your phone to check the photo you feel nauseous when you see him clearly.

“Did I scare you?” a soft and concerned voice sounds from the closet making you yelp as you jump to stand, the sound of your phone falling to the floor and cracking on impact ringing out.

He creeps from the dark, entering the dim lighting of the room as the full moon shines through its window. His face is slim, and his eyes are wild as he watches you, his feet moving slowly and dragging on the floor with an inhuman gait as he walks closer. You’re backed into the corner of the room as you watch him approach you as if you’re a spooked animal.

“I didn’t think you’d see me,” he laughs quietly but you're too scared to respond, your voice completely lost as you watch the boy creep towards you.

“Don’t talk much huh?” he asks, the smile on his face growing unnaturally as he speaks, the sight of him making your face grimace and press harder into the wall as you try to create more distance between you.

It’s not that he was ugly, no if he was normal you would think he’s really cute. But there was something wrong, something off. The way his shoulder slumped and his legs carried him, his smile that stretched across his face too wide and his eyes that shake and burn into your skin as he watches you. From a distance he would look like a normal boy, but as he gets closer, only a few feet at this point, there’s a nagging voice in your mind that tells you that whatever stands before you, is not human.

“Wow,” he speaks as his eyes trail the length of your body, his stare making a weird heat spread over your skin, “you’re so pretty.”

Your heart drops at his words, not only what they mean but also what follows. He’s only an arms length away, and when he’s halfway through the last word, a thick black liquid spills from his mouth.

There’s a soft pattering sound as the liquid hits the floor in drops, the sight of it making your mouth hang open as your lunch turns in your stomach. You can feel your body tremor as you try to connect what’s happening in front of you in your brain.

“So, so pretty,” he continues to mutter as he gets in your personal space. The liquid that bubbles from his lips with every syllable is completely void of any smell as his face moves only inches away from yours, but his eyes ignore yours as they widen with confusion as his are trained on your chest and torso.

“I’ve never been this close to someone else before,” he admits before his hands start to tug at the hem of your shirt. The shock of the situation continues to stop you from speaking, but it’s when his hands start to trail up your stomach and towards your chest, that you start to believe that you’re some sort of deprived. Something about the heat of his hands runs a shiver up your spine, and when they press against your chest, you let out an involuntary whimper.

“Can I see you?” he asks, moving his eyes to meet yours and his hands to the buttons of your shirt. You’re not sure what makes you nod, but the movement is happening before you can think about what the question entails. The grin that pulls on his face in response makes your blood cold, and his nimble fingers begin to pop open the buttons of your shirt one by one.

“Wow,” he whispers out once your shirt hangs open, your bralette being the only thing covering your chest. He doesn’t show any interest in removing the fabric, but his hands return to pet over your skin.

There’s a heavy pause where his hands grope and mold over your skin, and you only stand still as he moves against you. With the black that drips from his lips and the way he stands before you terrifies you, but you also feel disappointed in yourself as the feeling of his hands makes your muscles lose their tension and your eyes fall closed.

After a moment of his hands exploring you, you feel his eyes return to your skin. You slowly peak your eyes open, and when they connect with his, you take in a shuddering breath.

He doesn’t speak, just stares at you for a moment, his intense eyes making you feel like whatever is happening before you isn’t real. The way he watches you makes you feel like maybe he can hear your thoughts, as you can almost see the gears in his head turning as he thinks. You’re about to try to speak again when he lunges at you and his mouth latches on the side of your neck.

You let out a loud gasp at the heat of his mouth suddenly on your skin. A part of you thought he was going to bite you, rip out your throat with his teeth even, but all you feel is his tongue starting to lap at the skin and the warm liquid streak up your neck.

He groans against you, his mouth kissing and sucking at the skin of your jaw. You feel yourself melting against the feeling, almost fully succumbing to the feeling when you notice it start to get weird. His tongue begins to lick at the place that his mouth covers, slipping past his chin a few times, but after a few heavy licks, you feel it gaining more surface area.

While his mouth stays on and around the same space of your jaw, his tongue has begun to reach the center of your neck, and before you can comprehend what is happening, you feel the tip of his tongue flicking against the other side of your neck.

If the black liquid from his throat wasn’t enough of a hint, his inhumanly long tongue was enough to tell you that the boy against you isn’t human. The voices in your mind start to argue, one yelling that you should have never split away from your friend and you should shove him off you and run away, the other telling you to admit the truth. The truth is you don’t hate the feeling. His mouth is eager and whatever liquid that’s started to coat your skin is warm and slick. His wandering hands has you squirming and panting into the air, and there’s a part of you, a part that feels dirty and terrible, that enjoys what's happening with the creature that lives in this abandoned building.

You let out a soft moan as his mouth moves down your neck, his tongue following suit as it licks down to your collarbones and the center of your chest. With curiosity you tilt your head slightly to look at what he’s doing to your skin, and you’re greeted with something you fully expected but still fills you with disbelief.

His tongue looks like a normal tongue, soft and pink, the only difference is its unnaturally long length and the sharp tapered point it ends with. You also quickly notice that the liquid that pours from his mouth is now coating your entire torso, dripping down your chest and stomach and even begins to stain the waistband of your skirt and drip on the floor between your feet.

You move your head up to stare at the ceiling, hoping the lack of visuals would help you convince yourself that what's happening to you is normal. Your curiosity takes over though when his traveling mouth reaches your stomach, and your shaking hand moves to touch the liquid that remains on your neck.

It’s begun to cool from the night air. It’s thick and sticks to your fingers slightly as you move your hand to hold in front of your face, and the black color is so dark and saturated, it almost looks like a hole to the void has been bored into the tips of your fingers.

You’re so distracted by the slippery substance that coats your fingers, you don’t feel his hands lifting your skirt. You don’t even notice his mouth pressing against the skin of your thighs, until they brush against your inner thigh making you jump.

Your hand falls, and you quickly look down. Your skirt obscures the top of his head, but you can still feel as the tip of his nose digs into the seat of your underwear and he takes a breath in.

“You smell very good,” he compliments, and you can't help the way your legs try to slam shut around his head and your skin warms in shame, “can I take these off too?”

His head pops out from under your skirt quickly as he asks, and you feel your heart clench slightly as something about it is weirdly cute. Again, you feel yourself nodding instead of verbally responding, but he only grins and returns to his place between your legs at the motion.

His hands waste no time in shoving your underwear to the ground, and while you fully expected it, you jump again when his nose presses against your bare skin.

You let out a squeak of shock when you first feel his tongue, the warm muscle only slipping partially out to lick at you. He must enjoy what he finds, as he happily hums before the full length of his tongue is covering you.

It never leaves your skin as he licks up the length of you, its long size keeping at least some of it on your skin every time. Your legs shake as his saliva and the liquid drenches your skin, the sheer amount coating you and dripping down the inside of your thighs. You think you may go crazy just by the situation itself, but also from the way his tongue covers you enough to lick at your entrance and clit, and even slipping further back than you had anticipated.

He hums against you, the vibrations sending a shot to your neglected clit, and you return to yourself enough to realize he may not know exactly what to do.

You notice that your hand continues to resemble a leaf as it shakes as you reach down. Your fingers grip harshly as you lift your skirt, and you're greeted by him tucked between your legs with his eyes shut tight. It throws you a bit to see him enjoying himself so thoroughly that you have to pause before you do what you were thinking.

“Here,” you whisper as you hesitantly tap at his forehead, your voice strained from the lack of use. He leans away almost immediately, his tongue slithering back into his mouth and his eyes opening wide with curiosity at hearing you finally speak, “r-right here.”

Your forearm holds your skirt against your stomach as your fingers tap gently at your clit. His eyes follow the motion, his head tilting softly as he looks at what you touch, before he’s looking at you again in curiosity.

“What about it?” he asks slightly confused, “does that part feel good?”

“Yeah,” you respond, your voice still quiet and scared, but he only shows you his too wide smile in return.

You only get a bob of his head as a warning before he moves back onto you, his mouth immediately latching onto your clit. Pleasure shoots up your spine as he starts to suck at the bundle of nerves, and your hands move to hold onto his hair before you can even think about it being the first time you touch him.

You push him against you, your hips moving slightly as his tongue roams the exact spot you pointed to. You're already enjoying the feeling much more than you had expected, but when his tongue slips out again to wander, you feel delirious.

The longer muscle licks at you desperately, the end of it prodding at your entrance as he finds it's the source of the arousal that spills from you. His hands move to wrap around your thighs, and you fear he’ll begin to suffocate himself with how deep he presses his face into you.

His tongue is a lot stronger than you thought when you feel it start to slip inside you, the thick muscle throwing you off as it reaches deeper and deeper inside. He groans loudly, gross slurping noises following, as his tongue begins to move in you, the muscle starting a soft twisting and thrusting motion against your walls. The feeling in you is far different than anything you’ve felt in your life, and combined with the way he keeps his hot mouth attached to your clit, you feel like you’re losing your mind.

You’re grateful for his hands as they hold you up as your legs become weak. Uncontrollable noises fall from your lips, encouraging him to fuck the dark liquid into with his tongue. With your whimpering and cries, you momentarily remember your friend as she wanders the hall, and you beg that she can’t hear what happens between you and the mysterious creature between your legs.

Your toes curl in your shoes as his nails start to scratch at your skin, and you feel your face start to scrunch up tightly as the pleasure builds an aching knot in your stomach. Your hips move with the motion of his tongue as it pulls you apart. If the length of it was jarring as it wrapped around your neck, it was even more intense as if pushed and licked inside you. You shake and jump as he curves it to press perfectly into the hypersensitive spot that sits in you, and you fear that you may rip his hair from his scalp from the way you fist at the strands.

Your eyes begin to roll back in your skull as the pleasure begins to get too much, the foriegn feeling of his tongue and the heat from his mouth and the liquid makes you feel gross and dirty in the best way. You’ve seemed to have lost access to your voice once again, as when you try desperately to warn him of what is about to happen, only squeaks and whines come out.

You feel his tongue twitch inside you in his surprise as you start to come, your walls fluttering around him and your moans growing in volume as the feeling consumes you. You feel yourself jerking uncontrollably as he only groans at the sight and feeling of your orgasm overtaking you, and his licking only grows in speed as he carries you through the feeling.

The tugging your hands deliver on his hair gets harsher as you try to pull him away from your body. He hesitates, his tongue still licking to collect as much of your come as possible, before he finally moves away. You shiver as his tongue slips from your body, your legs trembling at the small sparks of pleasure it hits you with.

His face is covered with your arousal and the black liquid as he stares at you from his place on the floor, his weird grin getting slightly more endearing every time you look at it, even with his sharp teeth stained with black. He clambers to his feet and presses his face close to yours as he speaks.

“Did you like that?” he asks, seemingly oblivious to the way you pant and slump against the wall. His eyes sparkle as you nod softly, “cool, that’s so cool. I didn’t know people could do that. Can I do that?”

A soft puff of air leaves your nose in a laugh as your head shakes in confusion, “I.. I dunno.”

“Do you think we can tr-“ he starts to ask, when there’s a loud crash from the closet that he came from. He immediately straightens, a look of shock crossing his face before morphing into one of disappointment. His head to turns to look at the closet for a moment before he sucks on his teeth and turns back to you.

“Maybe some other time,” he suggests as he starts to move away. He stops with a jump as if he remembers something important, “there will be another time right? You’ll come see me?”

“I mean, I don’t,” you stutter as you stand, the strength returning to your legs, “I mean sure? I guess?”

“Cool,” he smiles walking away again, “just meet me here whenever, i’m the only one who comes out here.”

You can't help but be reminded of your friend as you whisper an ‘okay’ at his retreating form. The room feels colder once he’s gone, much more quiet too with his mouth no longer on you, and you almost begin to think none of it ever happened in the first place.

Part 2

[basically-i-write-shit]

That’s the thing about a/b/o; it’s such a good vehicle for certain kinks. I’m just going to go with the first half of the list and say Tsukkiyama… any of: 6, 11, 14, 19 or 28.

Any, some, all or none! Up to you!

All of your fics are great!

This is exactly my thought. I picked two of the ones you sent from the prompt list, feel free to send more if you want!

6. Alpha voice 14. Claim fuck

Here’s the ao3 link 

- MINORS DNI -

Tsukishima Kei is not prone to letting his emotions or his instincts get the best of him. It’s tiring, and just not worth it most of the time. Often, this isn’t an issue; he doesn’t feel anything too strongly, and he’s not exactly eager to get into just any omega’s pants, so even when an omega goes into heat in public he’s able to keep a level head. He doesn’t feel that primal urge inside himself to claim, to mate- 

Or, at least, for the most part. It’s becoming more of an issue lately, and it’s frustrating. He doesn’t know what it is, but lately whenever he finds himself out with friends, he’s just the slightest bit annoyed, just a little more prone to snapping back. He chalks it up to just having outgrown the idea of going out every weekend now that he’s an adult with a job, and yet whenever a certain childhood friend of his asks him to come out he does without hesitation. 

...Which leads to his other issue. 

Yamaguchi Tadashi has always been a soft spot for Kei, he’s always wanted to protect him- ever since they first became friends in elementary school. Now that they’ve long since graduated highschool, and recently college, however, it’s becoming increasingly obvious that Kei’s soft spot for Tadashi is more than he lets on. And Tadashi has always been naïve, but it’s never been more aggravating to get him out of the situations he manages to get himself in when he’s a little tipsy. And Yamaguchi likes to let loose on the weekends. 

And letting loose he is. 

Kei hadn’t even wanted to go out tonight. He was barely leaving the museum when his phone rang, the caller ID reading Kuroo’s phone number, and he’d immediately rejected the call. However, not even two seconds later he received a text with the simple words: “We have freckles with us already so you might as well just come over now instead of fighting it.” So he did. And that familiar annoyance and quick temper has returned, only fueled by the loud music bumping in the over-crowded club that Bokuto and Kuroo dragged his omega to-

There it is again. Yamaguchi isn’t his. He isn’t Kei’s, and he knows this. Even still, in his head, he calls him that. He doesn’t know when he that started, just that he never stopped, and he doesn’t see any harm in it; after all, anyone who’s spent more than a few hours with them can clearly see Kei’s laid his claim on Yamaguchi even if he hasn’t actually marked him. Or even tried to court him. His influence is all over, however, from the clothes Kei buys him just so he can scent them before he gifts them to the fading hickeys Yamaguchi asks Kei to give him before they go out to deter alphas from hitting on him when they’re clubbing. 

Even still, those only seem to work if the other person knows them, and isn’t some stranger in the club. To strangers, Kei’s scent and the hickeys he peppers on Yamaguchi’s neck are just hints of a promiscuous omega, a tease who gets busy with more than one person in one night- and they tend to get angry when their advances are rejected by a “slut.” 

Kei doesn’t know when he lost Yamaguchi, just that he’s been increasingly more annoyed by his other friends as they progressively get drunker. And so he does what he usually does when he gets fed up with them: goes to find Yamaguchi so he can leave. It takes a long moment to find him, and when he does, he doesn’t like what he finds. 

He can’t hear over the music and the loud conversations surrounding them, but he can see the snarl on the alpha’s face as he leans far too close to Yamaguchi. The omega -his omega- is leaning as far away as he can, but his back is pressed against the wall with nowhere else to go. It takes three seconds to get from the bar to where they are, just in time for the alpha to reach a hand up Yamaguchi’s skirt and promptly get punched in the jaw by Yamaguchi. Immediately the area around them clears around them so Kei can step in between them. 

“You bit-” 

The alpha goes to punch back, but freezes when he sees Kei standing there. “You’d really punch an omega that just hit you so hard you had those cartoon birds flying around your head? That’s kind of pathetic, man.” 

“Who are you, this little slut’s babysitter? Why don’t you tell ‘im to-” 

“I’d stop right there, or I’ll let him loose on you again. Do you want an omega to knock you out?” 

The alpha growls, but he backs off, flicking them off once more before he disappears into the crowd. Kei turns to Yamaguchi as the people immediately around them dissolve back into the club mentality, ignoring the two as soon as the drama is over. When Kei turns around, Yamaguchi’s fist is still clenched, skirt ridden up just the slightest, and he’s shaking. 

“Yamaguchi, let’s go.” 

“What? I- I’m fine, Tsukki. Let’s just go find the others,” 

“I just left them, I was coming to find you anyway.” 

“But I wanna stay,” 

“And get groped by some stranger again? I don’t think so.” Kei says. 

Yamaguchi huffs. “Come on Tsukki, please? I barely have a buzz, I-” 

“And if you get any drunker, you’re gonna get taken advantage of by some random alpha.” 

“And what if I want that?” 

“I- What?” Kei’s eyes narrow and he glares at Yamaguchi, stepping closer to him. “You’re okay with just anyone taking you home? What if one of them marks you? What if they get you pregnant?” 

Yamaguchi crosses his arms and glares right back. “And what if they do? It’s not like you are.” 

Something in Kei snaps then, and he growls, taking Yamaguchi by the wrist and pulling him against his chest. He isn’t one to use his alpha status above an omega, but he can’t help himself as he commands Yamaguchi with his alpha voice, “We’re leaving. Now.” 

Yamaguchi doesn’t protest as Kei drags him out of the club, and Kei ignores the whoops and hollers from a drunk Bokuto and Kuroo, both of whom are trying to reign in a drunk Hinata before he climbs onto the bar and shows all of Sendai the dance moves he’d learned in Brazil. Once out of the club, his senses sharpen and he feels a bit better, but anger still boils in his chest as he drags Yamaguchi down the street and to the closest train station. After swiping their metro cards he takes Yamaguchi and pins him against the wall, kissing him roughly while they wait for their train. 

“Is this what you wanted? Attention from me? Is that why you wore this little number and went off and almost got yourself groped in the club by whoever you could get to touch you so I would get jealous?” 

“M- Maybe,” Yamaguchi murmurs against Kei’s lips, gasping when Kei’s knee slips between his thighs, arms hiding him from the rest of the underground station. “I was tired of your fucking pretending like there isn’t something between us, so I figured I’d give you a push. Is that so wrong?” 

“It is when my omega is backed into a corner with a hand up his skirt by someone that’s not me.” 

“So you admit I’m yours?” 

“Of fucking course you are! When have you ever not been?” Yamaguchi swallows thickly, his wide-eyed gaze looking at Kei like he hung the goddamn moon, and Kei growls. “As soon as we get back to my place I’m fucking you so goddamn hard and you’re getting a bond mark right,” he nips at the junction of Yamaguchi’s neck and shoulder, “There. Understand? No one is going to mistake you for single after this.” 

“Y- Yes, alpha.” 

“That’s what I like to hear.” They continue to kiss while they wait, and once again when their train arrives. Once they reach their stop, Kei’s hand once again finds Yamaguchi’s wrist and he pulls him along, feeling a little guilty when he sees it’s bright red from being grabbed so roughly; it’ll definitely bruise before the night is over. He doesn’t have time to feel guilty, however, because Yamaguchi’s hand slips into Kei’s front pants pocket and pulls his keys out of it, unlocking his apartment and pushing him inside. Kei grins, pulling Yamaguchi by his collar into a kiss as they scramble to take their shoes off while still kissing. “Feisty now, huh?” 

“Just impatient. I’ve been waiting for this moment since we were seventeen.” 

Kei groans against Tadashi’s lips. “You mean I could’ve been fucking you since second year? That was six years ago,” 

“I didn’t think you liked me back until, like, six months ago Tsukki! And I thought you would make the first move, since you’re an alpha.” 

“You know I’m just as stubborn as you, did you really think I’d give up my pride and confess?” 

“Hey, it’s not my fault you’re stupid. Now are you going to claim me or not?” 

“You don’t have to ask twice,” Now out of their shoes, Kei lifts Tadashi and carries him down the hall to his bedroom. He has half the mind to fuck him right on the floor in the genkan, but he at least has the sense to make sure Yamaguchi is comfortable while he fucks his brains out. Once in his bedroom, he drops Yamaguchi on the bed, his hands fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. Yamaguchi pulls away just the slightest to pull his top off, wiggling out of his skirt while Kei shucks off his own shirt and begins undoing the buttons on his slacks. He growls when he sees Yamaguchi’s nearly naked form underneath him, the light pink boxer briefs damp and tenting his dick. “Fuck, you’re so gorgeous, you know that?” 

“That’s coming from you? You’re a literal god, Kei.” 

Something about Yamaguchi calling him by his given name screams to the primal side inside of Kei. Nipping at his lips, Kei’s hands find Yamaguchi’s hips and pulls them flush against his. “You’re so fucking hot. I’m going to make sure the only think you can say is my name.” 

“Yes, please.” Yamaguchi whispers. Resisting the urge to rip Yamaguchi’s underwear, he slides it off as quickly and as gracelessly as possible, losing his cool immediately when the scent of slick unhidden by clothing hits his nose. He pulls away to get a good look at Yamaguchi totally naked, now, and he growls. 

“You’re dripping. Have you been slicked up the whole way home, or did I just work you up in the few minutes we’ve been back home?” 

“Th- The first option,” 

"Well I’m going to treat you so good, don’t you worry. I know I could probably slip right in with how wet you are right now, but I’m gonna prep you, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

One of Kei’s hands spreads Yamaguchi’s thighs, the other moving to tease at his rim. Yamaguchi whines, his knees trying to close, and Kei nips at his jaw, keeping his legs spread with a firm grip. “Don’t hide yourself. I’m going to be seeing a while lot of you, so there’s no point in being shy.” 

Whimpering, Tadashi nods slowly, and relaxes somewhat as Kei slips two fingers inside of his hole. Kei’s fingers are long and slim, and slip inside easily, slick coating them immediately. He probably didn’t even need to prepare the omega, because he’s reacting so well to Kei’s touch and opening up with little prodding; his little cock sits rock-hard and dripping, untouched, and Kei’s own cock twitches at the sight of the man in front of him. Yamaguchi gasps when Kei’s fingers shift inside of him and Kei grins, dragging his fingers over the same spot. He revels in the way Yamaguchi moans and whines, rolling his hips to get more stimulation. 

“Fuck, Kei...N- Need you, now. Please. Please,” 

Suddenly Kei’s confidence wanes and he hesitates, looking down at Yamaguchi. “I don’t want to hurt you, Tadashi.” 

Yamaguchi groans. “I can take it, Tsukki. Come on, fuck me.” 

“Right. Right, I’m going to fuck you and I’m going to claim you. Got it?” 

“Got it.” 

Kei slides his fingers out of Yamaguchi’s hole, positioning his member and pushing inside. As soon as the tip slips in he groans, pleasure overtaking him as he bottoms out with one quick thrust that brings out a loud cry from the omega underneath him. He growls, connecting their lips once more, as he fucks into Yamaguchi roughly. His hands wander Yamaguchi’s body, the omega reacting to his touch so well, his back arching off the bed. Kei sucks in every little sound, every little tightening around his cock, quickly losing control of himself. 

“Fuck, Tadashi...You’re mine. I’m not going to let anyone touch you ever again, you’re mine and only mine, you understand?” 

Yamaguchi keens, a shiver running down his spine, and nods. His hands, tangled in Kei’s hair, grips tighter with every thrust. 

“If any other alpha even looks at you after this, I’m gonna fucking kill him.” 

“Possessive of me already? You haven’t even- hn, you haven’t even marked me yet.” 

“If you want to rush me, Tadashi, I can gladly make you cum faster, but I quite like this pace more,” Kei growls, thrusting harder, and he hears Yamaguchi’s breath hitch. 

“F- Fuck, please, Kei, faster. Please. ‘m so close, so ready, plea-” Yamaguchi gasps, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, and Kei grins. He nips at Yamaguchi’s neck, right where he’s preparing to mark him, and reaches a hand down to stroke Yamaguchi’s dick. Yamaguchi reacts to the touch with a shout that will more than likely get Kei a noise complaint from his neighbors, but he doesn’t care one bit. Kei’s own orgasm builds closer and closer as he continues fucking into Yamaguchi ruthlessly, and he knows Yamaguchi is close by how much he starts to tighten around his cock. 

“Tadashi...Tadashi, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna fill you up so good, baby,” He pants, “You’re going to be full of my pups soon enough. I’m going to claim you and get you pregnant as soon as possible, so everyone knows you’re mine. You’re mine, hear that? Mine.” 

“Fuck, Kei..! Please, please, ‘m coming, claim me alpha, ple- agh!” 

Kei wastes no time in biting down on the junction of Yamaguchi’s neck and shoulder, claiming the omega as he comes. As his teeth sink into flesh, Kei’s own orgasm spills inside of Yamaguchi and he thrusts one final time as his knot swells and locks them together. An indescribable pleasure washes over him as he feels the mating bond form between them. Once they’ve both finished, Kei collapses on top of Yamaguchi, both of them panting breathlessly. 

In the morning, Kei will likely be embarrassed about letting his inner alpha out like this, but for now, he allows himself to feel the bliss of a fresh bond with the man he loves. 

[rose-colored-amy]

So, this is a continuation to my extremely short one-shot Last Moments, Last Regrets, but it can be read as a stand-alone. Regardless, I'll leave the link of that one in here:

Also, thanks to @coeurhh for suggesting I write a second part. You're a sweetheart 🥰

She made a lovely fanart/gif, which I'm also sharing, of course:

Prompt: AU. Sakura's death goes unnoticed to everyone but the squad she protected with her life and Tsunade. Team Kakashi doesn't find out until the very end, when Naruto and Sasuke have already had their fight, and there's nothing to do about it but mourn the absence.

Warning: Mild Sasusaku and lots of angst. Team 7 sort-of-fluff (?)

—Blue Bird, Let Go—

"Hey, bastard... I know they really let us down, the village, I mean."

"Aa... "

"But I really think it's not all that bad. When we were I team, I knew you understood. It felt like having a brother, believe it."

They were watching their lives go by, shadows of unknown faces passing by them, not noticing their pain, or not caring whatsoever. Their backs were touching, but it was all cold and bleak; a bad memory. A clan slaughtered, a demon sealed. Two lonely boys wallowing in their own sadness.

"Well, even if I don't make it, I'm glad it was you, bastard—"

"Shut up, idiot." His voice sounded strained, even for his standards, but Sasuke was so tired he couldn't even bring himself to care.

"We're really dying, ah? Wanna say something? I do have things to say, 'cause there's no way I'm dying—"

"In silence?" Sasuke interrupted, but Naruto payed him no mind.

"Without telling you how much of an asshole you've been! I couldn't even keep my promise to Sakura-chan! She's gonna be so damn mad when she finds out, I'm sure she'll drag me back to life just to cave my face in—" He was rambling at that point, but it was just so comforting and normal to Sasuke that he didn't even acknowledge it anymore.

"Hn. Sakura... She..."

"She still loves you, asshole. I don't have any idea how it can be possible but—"

"I'm sorry..." It sounded rushed, but Naruto heard it perfectly, and in the darkness of their shared consciousness, Sasuke heard a resigned sigh.

"Well, it's not that bad. I cannot imagine dying beside anyone but you, bastard."

"Idiot..." He made a pause. "Me neither."

"You're both a pair of idiots!"

Suddenly, the unreadable mass of unrecognizable faces around them cleared, and one figure stood in front of them, pink eyebrows frowned in annoyance. Though this version of Sakura looked familiar, it was one none of the boys had seen in a long time. Genin, long-haired, Sakura was glaring at them, arms crossed.

"Sakura-chan! What are you doing in here?!"

Her eyes softened. "What, so I'm supposed to let you two die, after everything? No way in hell!"

"Sakura..."

"You!" She pointed at Sasuke, who flinched slightly at her rudeness. "I don't know what the hell happened, but I don't care. Lighten up and start being your moody self. We love you just like that! Don't act so repented and shit! If you're sorry stop looking like a lost puppy and start doing something about it, you asshole!" Her voice was raising with madness and it was slightly off putting to see what used to be a stuttering lovestruck preteen talking to him like that.

Naruto snorted at that, obviously delighted for not being at the receiving end of her wrath for once. It was short-lived, however.

"And you!" She pointed at the blonde; then crossed her arms. He jumped back in fright. "What is this? How dare you even consider dying after you promised to be the best goddamned Hokage in history?! Here I am, rooting for you, while you lay around like a lazy pig with your edgy bro there. You should be ashamed of yourself!" She scoffed.

Naruto's mouth was so wide open he could have caught a fly. "Lazy pig? Are you kidding?!"

Sasuke raised an eyebrow, half amused, half annoyed. "Edgy?"

Suddenly, the edges of their vision began to blurr, like a genjutsu being unravelled. "Ah, someone came to help you at last." Sakura seemed relieved. Strangely so.

"Hey, Sakura-chan! You know what? You're right. I'll be the best damn Hokage ever, believe it! Just you watch!" He threw a punch to the air.

Seemingly placated and pleased with his answer, she nodded. "I know so." Then, she turned to her other teammate, who was concentrating solely on her face, mismatched eyes softened as they'll ever be. "And you'll make sure he doesn't mess up, right?"

They shared a long silence. There was something strange about Sakura aside her appearance. He could tell. "Hn. I will..."

"Hey! I don't need him watching over—"

"Sure you don't." He countered sarcastically.

"Also..." They turned to her again. "I'm sorry."

"Wha—" Naruto stuttered. "What the hell would you be sorry for, Sakura-chan?! If anything, it's the bastard here who should be apologizing to you!"

"Sakura..." Sasuke seemed to be searching for the right words, but she couldn't let them go without them listening to her. To what she needed them to know. There wasn't much time left after all.

"I'm sorry, because I wasn't what you needed..." She closed her eyes, her pretty minty orbs. Her appearance suddenly shifted, before then now standing her true self, still dressed in the standard shinobi uniform of the alliance. Her forehead protector lost to whoever knows where. "And thank you. You both made me stronger. You made me appreciate what I had. And I'll always, always love you. Our moments together like team seven... I'll treasure them for all eternity."

"Sakura-chan..."

"I know Konoha wasn't the best to you both, but don't forget the good... The wholesome moments. It's all that matters in the end... Our bonds, the bonds you managed to forge with sweat and blood... The world we live in, the world that gave me the chance to meet you. To me, that's to be cherished. Forever."

The white light started overwhelming the rest. Even Sakura's features started dissapearing.

"Live. Just live." For that, she specifically stared at Sasuke, a soft smile playing on her lips. "And thank you."

Sasuke started racing towards her, hand stretched, a forebonding understanding shaking his bones. "Sakura!"

And then, they both lost consciousness.

When they woke up, aside from feeling like shit, the first thing that crossed their minds what the finality of Sakura's words. Tsunade was beside them, patching them up, with Kakashi beside her, silently watching over them.

"About time, brats! What were you think—"

"Baa-san." Naruto interrupted her, his voice the most serious she had heard him until then.

"Where's Sakura?" Sasuke finished for him, his eyes icy and detached, trying to keep his worry at bay.

But she didn't need to answer. Her chakra flow hesitated, spiking with sorrow. Her eyes glistening with unbearable loss. Kakashi, at her side, stared, eyes widened in comprehension.

She was gone by a long shot.

And they were just finding out.

...

Everybody had different ways of dealing with loss. Naruto helped rebuild the village along with everyone else, but he skipped his usual meals, his ramen left forgotten in his kitchen counter. His movements when sparring were sloppy at best, not just because of the new prosthetic limb, but also because his mind was clearly somewhere else. Usually, Shikamaru would drag him out his makeship house, like he had done when Jiraija was gone for good. Sometimes, he would bring Ino with him, who was suspiciously skinny and messier than normal. No makeup covering the dark circles under her eyes.

Kakashi spent more than usual at the memorial stone every day, tracing the newly marked name of the girl who once remained him of Rin but that had come to claim a place for herself in his heart. Also, he took more missions than it was allowed in a month, going so far as to pick up his ANBU mask again, which caused an altercation with Tsunade, who hadn't been sober in a long time and had been hoping to hand the Hokage seat to him.

Sai avoided the color pink for a long time.

Sasuke... Well, he dealed with loss the same as everyone else... Longing for the missing person to be there, itching to have the opportunity to say what he couldn't at the time. Wanting to be alone whenever they would reach for him... And he built a tomb for her in hopes to find some closure. Not that official, because there wasn't a body to bury, and it had no name, but it was enough for him. He would bring with him camellias every day, buying them at the Yamanaka's, where Ino would always glance at him in silent understanding.

One morning, on his way to her tomb, he spotted a young shinobi leaving a white lilly for her. When he came by, the child spoke without a care, like they were acquaintances. "This is Sakura-san's, right?"

"Hn." It wasn't really an answer, but the child seemed to understand anyway.

"You know? Mama and big sister are also buried in these grounds... I always talk to them and tell them about my day and stuff I want them to know!" He turned to the Uchiha, a smirk on his cherubic face. "I'm sure she would appreciate it as well." And just like that, he left without another word.

Sasuke sat on the ground, just in front of the stone, mismatched eyes half lidded. Sensing no one in the vicinity, he exaled a shaky breath, and his dam opened up, the words longing to be said broke the silence he had been wrapping around himself since he knew of her death:

"I miss you... I've been missing you since I first left."

[boldlyanxious]

Tenuous Trust

Jasonette July prompts 6: trust

References to Birds of Prey

Mentions of torture and murder

Canon-typical and not graphic

Possibly still disturbing

This is absolutely not what I was writing when I started. The idea was very different but it is what happened so it's what I offer

Not a typical meet cute Monday

My masterlist

Red Hood rushed down the hall away from the confrontation in the lobby. He had planned to sneak in and disrupt the meeting but that was no longer necessary. Things were going bad all on their own. Sionis was trying to find new contacts to deal with but recent interruptions in his business made an already turbulent arrangement turn volatile. Hood kept on down the hall looking for any other things he could tamper with in case they resolved their differences without guns.

He saw a woman step out of one of the former offices before the warehouse had been abandoned. He wasn’t sure who she was but she had been seen with Sionis or Zsasz a few times, but she usually never left their side so she would likely have information about their operation. He moved over to her quickly and pushed her back into the room, possibly more roughly than was necessary but for this it was likely better if she was a bit on edge.

She looked startled at him pushing her around but her eyes dropped down when she realized who he was. She said nothing. She waited for instructions, flinching a little when he reached out for her again.

“You are coming with me. Do you have anything of yours here that you need?”

She shook her head instead of responding, still looking down.

“Quickly out that window and hold on tight.”

She didn’t move. Well, she did but it was to back away and look around for an escape route. He grabbed her by the arm and pushed her a little to get her walking. Shouts were starting to echo down the hall. He expected bullets would be heard next.

“You are going to have to trust me. You have no reason to, but it is your only option.”

He pushed her until she had to either climb out the window or pull out of his grip. The decision became easier for her when the first gun fired followed immediately by several others. She climbed out the window and he followed. She was holding on to the side, looking very nervous about the possibility of a 3 story fall but he pulled her to him when he cleared the window.

Red Hood swung away from the building and landed on a low roof. He pulled her behind him, holding her hand to force her to keep up. They crossed several other roofs and he never saw anyone else nearby so he circled back around and found a vehicle to use. She was hesitating again when it came time for her to get in the car. She didn’t want to go back but she was not very thrilled about going with him.

“I meant what I said. You have to trust me. You have no other choice.”

She stared at him for one more moment before climbing into the car and putting on a seatbelt. They were silent as they drove through Gotham. He could feel the nervousness rolling off her but there was very little he could do about it. He did the one thing he could think of to ease her mind when he pulled off the road and into the drive thru at a Bat burger. It was a little thing. He was hungry. She probably was too, and it was an easy way for her to be more certain he wasn’t planning to just kill her.

He took her to his personal safehouse rather than the base. He didn’t want her spooked by the militia or all the guns and activity. Very few actually knew where the safehouse was. He didn't trust many to know where he slept, but he had a feeling that she could be trusted with the information.

He set the food at the table inside and the scene felt very domestic as they sat across from each other at his small table. It was better light in here so he was able to get a good look at her as she finished her food. She ate slowly and made no sudden movements. Her entire persona was meek, but it felt forced. He finished before her and pushed his back against the chair back as he stretched himself out. He stood and threw his paper wrappers in the trash and pulled out 2 beers from the fridge, offering one to her.

“So who are you?” he asked. “You don’t really seem like a career criminal.”

“I'm not, or I wasn't."

"Very vague explanation."

"I had dreams and plans before. I had a business and had just gotten an incredible contract. I went out with friends to celebrate.”

Red Hood kept watching and waited for her to finish but that seemed to be all of the story he was going to get out of her without more questions.

“How did that lead you to working for Sionis?”

“My friends and I didn’t know the area well. I had just moved here. But we found club Roman listed and that is where we went.”

“That is a well known cover for his business.”

“That is more clear to me now, but I didn’t know it at the time. It was purported to have a great singer and a dance show. That part was true.”

“Gonna need more of how you got involved with Sionis, Sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that,” she said vehemently.

He was taken aback and raised his hands in a surrender motion. She appeared to be working on calming her breathing, eyes wide in terror. But she took a deep breath and continued.

“My friends and I all piled into an uber to get home. We checked the driver and everything was correct. He was very polite and dropped them off first. My place was only a little further away but I never made it home. He was working for Sionis and brought me to see him. He told me I worked for him now. He wanted my new contract as a way to do his business and work against the other company.”

“How long ago was this?”

“I signed the Wayne contract in March.”

“And you have been working for him since?”

“I guess so. I don’t really think of it that way though.”

“You don't think of it that way? Is there a more eloquent way to say you are working for a mob boss?”

"You know a lot about his organization. You are familiar with Mr Zsasz?" Hood nodded without interrupting her. "He is covered in scars. It's very off putting before you know the reason. Then it is horrifying. He kills people, and for each person he kills he makes a mark."

"So you did what they said or he would kill you?"

"I tried to resist or escape at first. But Mr Zsasz had driven my friends home. He didn't only threaten me." She took a shaky breath. "Nor was I the only person they tried to convince to work with Black Mask. There was another man, he was brought in with his wife and daughter. They made me watch--"

Hood followed her out of the room when she suddenly stopped talking and bolted out of the room. He stood by the bathroom door for several minutes until she finished and then ran the water for several minutes cleaning herself up. When she came back out he offered a water. He said he didn't have ginger ale or crackers but he could make toast. She shook her head but took the water from him. Then she continued telling her story.

"The threats were always there. Usually they would just smack me around a bit if I didn't want to do something or possibly if they were bored. They would threaten my friends or tell me they had given up trying to find me." She wiped away tears. "If I gave in too quickly after a beating Mr Zsasz would show me his scars. He has a spot picked out for me. Once told me he wanted me to fight them because he wanted to fill my spot. He dragged me up by my hair and made me kiss it."

"He did what?" Red Hood could barely contain his anger. The whole story was making him irrationally angry.

"It wasn't about me, or anything like that. He wasn't interested in anything but torment and he was very good at that. He did it for the bit if blood that transferred from my bloody lip to the spot. He says he couldn't wait for his own blood to show in my spot." Her voice dropped to a whisper as she added. "He always called me Sweetheart because I didn't like it and he refused to use my name. Everyone did. I wasn't even a person to them."

"What is your name?"

"Marinette," she said quietly.

"Marinette, you are safe now. I'm not going to hurt you."

"Last time I tried to escape he said there was nowhere to run. He would find me no matter what and make his mark."

He paused for a moment, thinking. He knew the best option but he didn't really want to use it. But it was the best option for Marinette.

"I can't protect you." Her face fell at that. "What I mean is I'm dismantling the entire organization. I can't keep you safe but I know of people who can. Do you trust me?"

"You said I have to trust you."

"But you would actually have to rely on the trust for this. You would have to trust that you will be safe with the people I take you to."

"It doesn't seem like there is another option."

"Getting you out of town with a new identity could work. But you may always be on the run. This life you have would never be yours again."

"Okay. I will trust you."

They left after that. He took her across many rooftops and around town. He seemed to be waiting for something but Marinette didn't know what until someone else landed. It was Batman, a known enemy of Red Hood and Black Mask. Marinette really hoped there wasn't going to be a fight.

"Took you long enough, old man."

"It was clear you were trying to draw me out. I wasn't going to jump into a trap."

"You are known for holding back, whether the situation calls for it or not. I'm proposing a temporary truce."

"How temporary is this truce?"

"One hour."

"That is very temporary. You clearly need me out of your plans right now. That sounds like the worst time for me to agree to a truce."

"I'm not making any moves. I need help or she does." He stood aside so Batman could see Marinette. "She was taken by Black Mask after securing a contract with Wayne Enterprises. Your connection to Bruce Wayne and Wayne Enterprises is well known."

He watched Bruce under the mask. His Batman mask slipped off his facial features while the cowl stayed firm. He knew Bruce was looking at his helmet and seeing Jason. He thought he was finally reaching the boy and Red Hood had no interest in correcting the misconception now. He would still complete his plan.

Black Mask had just become a higher priority and surprisingly he wanted to keep Marinette safe. He also had plans for Zsasz. He wanted to take him out personally. He shocked himself by reaching up to Marinette's chin and tilting it. She looked up at him as if he could tell their eyes were meeting even thought he had his helmet on. His thumb brushed against her jaw briefly before he dropped his hand.

"Keep her safe," he said without looking back at Batman. He couldn't stand to see Bruce looking at Jason again right now. He flipped off the roof and away before anyone else says anything but he crept back to a higher vantage point to watch as Batman took Marinette with him. She would be fine now.

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[asweetprologue]

me lámh le do lámh - Part VII

First | Previous | Next | Masterpost

The name Triss had given him was a town near Brokilon Forest—perhaps a little too close for comfort, in fact. They arrived early, the sun’s rays just pushing over the rooftops of the sleepy little village. Jaskier was yawning behind him, his steps dragging. His ankle had finally healed up enough that he was able to walk without needing to take breaks on Roach every few hours, and seeing him healthy alleviated a weight that Geralt hadn’t known he’d been carrying.

Once in the village, Geralt headed off immediately to look around for a tailor or dressmaker, letting Jaskier take care of finding them accommodations for later that night and, hopefully, breakfast. It didn’t take long for Geralt to confirm what he’d already expected, looking around the tiny cluster of homes: there was no clothmaker in town. Frustrated, Geralt made his way to the one story inn and tavern that sat at the main crossroad in the center of town. Jaskier was already there, sitting at the bar with several plates of food and conversing with the barkeep. When he stepped into the room Jaskier raised his hand in greeting, as if Geralt wasn’t instantly aware of his presence in any space.

In the time it had taken Geralt to investigate the pitiful number of shops in the village, Jaskier had apparently already made friends with the innkeep, a burly man called Sulej with arms like a blacksmith. “There’s a fellow, elvish, lives out southwest of the village,” he said, leaning heavily on the bar while they ate the food Jaskier had purchased. “Closer to the, ah, forest. He comes around once every few months to trade, and two or three times from summer to winter he passes through on his way to the city to sell his cloth. Beautiful stuff, fine as woven silver. Bought me a piece years ago for a girl I fancied, could only afford a square.”

Geralt hummed to himself. It sounded right; if there was a field of moonflax nearby it was likely guarded well by the free elves left in the area. It would have perhaps been allowed to persist undisturbed so close to the Brokilon. “Anyone from the village ever visit?”

Sulej shook his head. “Not that I know of. We tend to give ‘em a wide berth. Doesn’t talk much when he comes into town, seems a bit of a loner.”

Geralt nodded. “Thanks for the information.”

They left the town with their gear stored in their room at the inn, aside from Geralt’s swords and Jaskier’s lute. The path to the weaver’s hut was well worn, though it grew less so as they walked closer to the forest. Storm clouds were gathering over the horizon to the west, and casting long shadows across the fields as they traveled. It was densely humid, the air heavy with the promise of a spring rain. Jaskier had left his fine doublets behind as he so often did on days like this, and his undershirt was quickly plastered to his back with sweat, exposing the flat planes of his shoulders and back. With his shirt sleeves rolled up and his collar unbuttoned down the center of his chest, Jaskier looked far removed from the whimsical performer or the refined professor. Like this he was exposed, all masks pulled away, just Jaskier wiping sweat from his brow and grinning as he pointed out a feature of the landscape or a butterfly landing on a flower. Only Geralt got to see this.

They made their way southwest, a breeze picking up that smelled like ozone and petrichor. Finally, just as Geralt was beginning to worry there was no way they’d find it before the rain arrived, he spotted it; a little hut, just on the edge of a copse of trees. It was a tiny thing, no more than two rooms at best, with a large fenced in yard with a shed attached. In the yard bundles of what looked like long silver grass—flax, Geralt realized—were spread out, likely to dry in the sun, though there was little enough of that to be found now.

Geralt slowed, but Jaskier seemed to have no hesitation. While Geralt lingered, he jogged up to the small home and knocked loudly on the door, and then stood back with his hands on his hips. Geralt sighed and approached as well. No time to look around for clues to see what kind of person Triss had sent them to then. Jaskier was going to walk them right into a trap someday.

After several moments with no answer, Jaskier knocked again, this time a bit more firmly. Still there was no answer, and he turned a frown towards Geralt. “No one home?”

Geralt paused instead of responding, listening intently. The wind rustled through the trees nearby, birds and creatures rustling in the underbrush. The wind whistled over the roof of the hut, the thatched roof protesting the oncoming storm. Jaskier’s heart beat steadily beside him, slightly elevated from the walk, breath rushing in and out of his lungs. He smelled like salt and grass, and just barely of lavender soap.

Focus.

Beyond the hut and its little yard, someone was humming.

Geralt turned without speaking, moving around the border of the fence and following the faint melody. He could tell when Jaskier heard it by the faint catch in his breath; perhaps he recognized the song. It was sweet, a little sorrowful, and despite the lack of true vocalization the notes rang true.

When they finally came alongside the back of the house, they found the source of the humming to be a man, sitting cross-legged against the wooden boards. At first glance he looked young, but when he looked up to greet them Geralt could see the faint translucency to his skin and the delicate spider web of lines around his eyes. Elves, even with their now diluted blood, aged differently from humans, but they did age. The elf they faced now was very old indeed, if his pale, sightless eyes were anything to go off of. To his side there sat a large wicker basket, filled with what looked like loose clumps of string. In his hands he held another bundle of string, and was threading it swiftly through a wooden brick with nails sticking up from it, leaving tangled clumps behind each time.

The humming faded as they approached, and the motion of the elf’s hands stilled. “I’m not available for trade until midsummer,” he said, and his voice carried none of the cracking that age would have brought to a mortal.

“Hail and well met, my good sir,” Jaskier replied, sweeping into a light bow despite the fact that the elf clearly couldn’t see the motion. “I’m afraid we require your services a bit more immediately, if you are indeed the one we’ve sought.”

A slender brow rose above the unfocused eyes. “What could be so pressing that you would require of a poor old weaver? My services are not unique, young man.”

Jaskier seemed taken aback by the address—after all, the entire reason they were on their quest was because he was indeed well past a young man. Geralt felt a moment of kinship with the elf; mortals sometimes all seemed so young, even when at the height of old age. “I was sent by a sorceress, Triss Merigold. She told me you would be able to help,” he interjected.

The elf paused, an odd, almost wistful look overtaking his face. “Ah. Merigold. And what did she tell you I would be able to help you with?”

Geralt hesitated. This elf, whoever he was, might know the nature of the ritual he was trying to perform. What if he said something? What if he assumed he and Jaskier were… together, and wanted to be married so that Jaskier could remain by Geralt’s side? His chest ached with desire, even as his stomach churned with nerves. If Jaskier knew what the ritual was for, he would never allow it, not after Geralt had spent all this time lying about it. He would be furious, and Geralt might lose him now even before death took him more permanently.

Gods, this was a stupid fucking idea.

Finally he took a deep breath and said, “We are seeking moonflax. Ribbons of it. Triss said that you could make such things.”

At this the old elf smiled, and the lines around his eyes deepened enough to make him truly look his age. “Ah. I am indeed the last of the moonspinners, at least that I am aware of. I can provide you with what you seek, in exchange for something in return.”

Geralt steeled himself, but Jaskier spoke first. “What would you have of us?” he asked, tone wary. Geralt felt a surge of pride; there was a time when Jaskier might have spoken before his better mind caught up with him, and more than once his quick tongue had landed himself and Geralt in trouble. He spoke now with the skill of a negotiator and a scholar, slow to trust an under negotiated deal.

The old elf tilted his head to the side, thoughtfully. “Help me with my work for the day. I am old, and the motions tire me. Do this, and you will have your payment.”

Geralt blinked. “That’s it?”

The elf smiled again, his sightless eyes finding Geralt’s face with unsettling accuracy. “It is not of our people to deny a worthy cause. Many have forgotten, but I have not.”

Jaskier made a questioning noise beside him, but Geralt spoke over him. “Thank you,” he said quickly. “What can we call you?”

“I am Silvandrel. Once I would have been called a guardian, but I’m afraid both I and my charge are too old for all that now. Follow me; I will show you how it’s done.”

Setting aside the flax and comb, Silvandrel stood, picking up a long staff that had been resting against the side of the house. Geralt and Jaskier set their own tools of the trade down alongside the elf’s, Jaskier’s lute case resting beside Geralt’s sheathed swords. Once relieved of their belongings, Silvandrel waved for them to follow after him, and they started off away from the house. Behind the hut, a grassy hill swooped down to meet the small group of trees beyond, an offshoot of the Brokilion that lacked its foreboding energy. Silvandrel walked with confidence despite his blindness, the staff in his hand picking out the way in front of him with the ease of long, long practice. Quickly they were led into the shade of the trees, along a well worn path marked by moss covered stones. After a few feet the trees thinned back and they emerged on the other side of the small wood, stepping into a sea of silver.

Jaskier let out a small gasp of wonder at his side, and Geralt couldn’t help but silently agree with the sentiment. A small field spread out before them, the gentle breeze from the oncoming storm sending ripples along the tops of the stalks. The flax that Geralt had seen in the past had been gold, like the color of ripe wheat, with delicate blue flowers in the early spring. These instead were a pale grey-white all the way down to the roots, and the seed pods at the top were almost blue, a dark, rich silver color. In the dull afternoon, the field seemed to shine almost with its own light.

Silvandrel made an amused sound as he halted beside them. “Best get to work. Pulling the harvest is no easy work, and we’ve much to do before the rain comes.”

He quickly walked them through the process of harvesting the plants, and set them to their task. The elf hadn’t lied; it was difficult work, though Geralt suspected much more so to Jaskier than himself. The plants had to be torn up from the root, to gather as much usable material as possible, but without tearing into the stalks. Silvandrel was not lax in his own work, and wrapped the bushels that the two men brought over in thick twine to hold them together for drying.

Geralt would have expected Jaskier to complain about the physical labor, but instead the bard was quiet, focused intently on the plot before him. Gardening had never been a favored pastime of his, Geralt knew, though he was competent enough with herbs to help collect those that Geralt needed for his potions. Still, over the next few hours Jaskier seemed to throw himself into the work, carefully pulling stalk after stalk of the flax from the ground and passing it into Silvandrel’s waiting arms. If they’d been sweating before on the walk over, now they were both of them soaked, and first Geralt and then Jaskier quickly abandoned their shirts in favor of letting the breeze touch their skin. It was nothing either of them hadn’t seen before, but there was something mesmerizing about watching the slow flush of exertion work its way down Jaskier’s chest, watching the strength of his back and shoulders as he worked the roots free of a particularly stubborn plant. Geralt found himself moving slower than he might, distracted by the flash of golden skin amongst the pale leaves. At one point, Geralt caught Jaskier’s eye, and he could have sworn he watched the bard’s gaze drift down over his own bare chest before falling back to his work.

Probably just his imagination.

The field was still relatively small, and it took them only a few hours to clear out the patch that Silvandrel pointed them towards. The rest of the group he judged to be not yet ready for harvest, and he had only so much room for drying. They followed him back to the hut, wiping their faces with their shirts and loading up with the bundles of freshly pulled stalks. Silvandrel ordered them to place the bundles against the back of the house, and then they spent the next half an hour bringing that which had been laid out in the yard inside the little shed, where it would be safe from the rain.

They were standing in the yard when the storm finally broke. Geralt heard Jaskier release a little gasp at the first drops hit, and then the skies opened and the rain was falling in sheets around them. Geralt was standing by the little shed, partially shielded from the rain, and he turned to say something—to suggest that they make their way inside, maybe, but the words were lost when his eyes fell on Jaskier, standing in the middle of the little yard.

His face was turned up towards the sky, rain plastering his hair to his forehead. Heavy drops of water followed the long line of his neck, tiny rivers forming in the hills and valleys of his body. But it was his face that Geralt found himself entranced by, facing the heavens without a care, eyes closed in bliss. His mouth was spread in a smile, and after a moment his eyes opened and he turned to look at Geralt, and if anything his grin widened. Geralt felt his breath catch in his throat as their eyes met, suddenly overwhelmed by the look of joy and affection being directed his way. He found himself smiling back, and without thinking he took a step forward, instantly feeling the rain drenching his hair.

He couldn’t have said exactly what he was planning to do next, but he was stupidly grateful when Silvandrel’s voice called out across the yard from the little house. He and Jaskier turned towards where he was leaning out from the open back door. “Well, you may as well come inside,” the elf said, gesturing for them to come in. “We won’t be getting any more done out here today.”

Thankful for the cool rain against his overheated skin, Geralt followed Jaskier back towards the little cottage. They pulled their shirts, which they had left under the cover of the hut’s thatched roof, back over their damp skin, and Geralt felt a pang of loss as Jaskier tucked his back into his pants. Once dressed again, they stepped inside the warm interior of Silvandrel’s hut.

It was a cozy little place. The back room that they entered from the yard was something of a cross between a kitchen and a workshop, it seemed. A small floor loom was set up against one wall, the table beside it ladened with hanks of woven yarn and a simple inkle loom. A small round hearth sat in the center of the room, a simple hook hanging from the ceiling above it. The interior was already hazy with smoke from the little fire, banked though it was, and Jaskier’s hair was already curling as it dried. Through the open doorway on the far side of the room, Geralt could just make out a tiny bedchamber.

Silvandrel brushed his hands against his tunic, nodding to himself. “You may stay here for the evening and share a meal with me, and bed down here for the night if you so choose. The walk back to the village is long, and unpleasant in such conditions. I’m afraid I do not have much to offer you by way of comfort, but it is at least dry.”

“We thank you for your hospitality,” Jaskier said warmly. “And we would gladly share your fire.”

Geralt felt a slight nudge to his ribs as Jaskier elbowed him, and turned to meet his imploring look with a glare. Jaskier only raised an eyebrow at him, clearly unimpressed. A drop of water fell from a lock of his dark hair to land on his cheek, and Geralt was too distracted overcoming the urge to wipe it away to come up with a good response. Instead he turned back to Silvandrel and grunted, “Much appreciated.”

Jaskier sighed lightly beside him, but Silvandrel only looked mildly amused. “If you plan to stay, you can help me prepare our supper. Let’s see if you can put your skills with a blade to use against these onions.”

Jaskier laughed merrily at that, and Geralt was effectively bullied into chopping onions and cabbage for the next half an hour. Jaskier was set to making trenchers, and Geralt found himself distracted once again by the smooth movements of his hands and shoulders as he worked on the dough. Get a grip, he thought to himself sternly, focusing back on the knife in his hand as he carefully peeled turnips.

Between the three of them they quickly had a hearty stew boiling away, and the smell of baking bread filled the little cottage. The food, when it was finished, was filling and savory, flavored with herbs from the elf’s little garden. Once they had finished eating, Jaskier pulled his lute from its case and began tuning it. He’d brought it in to protect it from the weather when they’d returned to the hut a few hours earlier, but the humidity often wreaked havoc on the instrument in the spring. Though Geralt had long suspected that the elven craftsmanship made it more resistant to damage than most of its kind, it still required careful maintenance. Where once Geralt had found the noise grating, it now lulled him into a sense of quiet calm.

Silvandrel sat himself on one of the stools that surrounded the worktable and nodded to the hanks of yarn. “You have been patient, and most helpful in fulfilling your side of our bargain. Once we eat, I will fulfill my debt. I will need two hanks of yarn, one selected by each, and a strand of hair from both parties to be bound.”

“I’m sorry, did you say our hair?” Jaskier asked, a sour note ringing out in his distraction.

The edge of Silvandrel’s mouth quirked up slightly at the sound, his pale eyes turning vaguely in Jaskier’s direction. “The moonflax is merely the agent of the joining. You must be present in the weave for the magic to take hold.”

Jaskier looked over at Geralt with a questioning expression. He shrugged.

With a shake of his head, Jaskier set his lute aside and stood up to select a hank of yarn from the table. Geralt leaned over on his own stool and grabbed one as well. They were soft, softer than typical linen, and a brilliant silvery white. They placed the yarn in Silvandrel’s waiting palms, and he set them aside, carefully keeping them in the same relative positions. His hands returned to their waiting position, and Geralt and Jaskier both sheepishly pulled out a hair to offer him, Geralt smirking at Jaskier’s wince of discomfort. One long silver strand fell into the wrinkled hand of the elf, a dark one falling into the other. With a nod, he placed them each on top of their respective yarn.

“It will be finished by nightfall,” he said, and turned to begin setting up the small loom that sat on the table, moved aside earlier to make space for the cooking. Jaskier gave Geralt another look, eyebrows raised, to which he could only shake his head. With one last glance at their host, Jaskier turned back to his lute.

And so the evening hours passed, the elven master working his craft while Jaskier’s soft music filled the hut, the drone of the rain serving as a backdrop. Geralt alternated between watching Silvandrel’s deft fingers moving over the loom, sure even without the use of his sight, and watching Jaskier, as always. His brown hair was gold in the light of the fire, atypically ruffled after their stint in the rain. The hut was warm and comfortable, and Jaskier’s gentle strumming was so familiar and safe that Geralt found himself almost drifting off, slipping easily into meditation. He startled when a hand came to nudge his arm some indeterminable time later, lifting his head to find Jaskier inches away, looking at him fondly.

“He’s done,” Jaskier said by way of explanation, almost a whisper. Geralt blinked and looked over, and was startled to see that while he’d been in meditation, the skeins of yarn had been transformed. Silvandrel stood, three long ribbons draped over his hands.

“You dyed them?” Geralt found himself asking, confused. The yarn that he’d seen the elf bind to the loom had been pale white, but only one of the ribbons remained so. The others were swatches of bright color, one a bright sky blue and the other a rich gold.

Silvandrel shook his head, wrapping the ribbons into a tight roll. “You did, in fact. The colored bands are those touched by your essence. I cannot see them myself, of course, but I could sense the magic take hold. They will serve you well.” He held them out in one hand, gold and white and blue creating a spiralled circle in his palm.

Jaskier reached out and picked them up, something like awe on his face. His other hand came up to gently trace the curl of the ribbons in the roll, following the line of the colors. “What is the white one for?” he asked, not looking up, “if it’s neither of us?”

“To bind you,” Silvandrel replied, “in strands of moonlight, so the stars may hear your oath.”

Jaskier’s head jerked up, his mouth falling open slightly as his brow furrowed. He said nothing, but Geralt could tell that something about what Silvandrel had said had confused him. Maybe it sounded too romantic, Geralt thought with a shock of panic, harsh after the softness of the last few hours. Being bound before the stars wasn’t exactly a platonic sentiment. He rushed to speak before the bard could ask further questions.

“Thank you,” he said, reaching out to take the ribbons from Jaskier in his moment of distraction. He shoved them in his pocket without a second glance. “I appreciate your help in this, though you had no obligation. We won’t ask any more of you.”

Silvandrel only nodded, a slight tilt of the head. “As I said, it is our way. You may feel free to rest here tonight, though I have nothing better to offer you than the floor near my fire. The storm should be cleared by the morning. I will bid you goodnight; the weaving leaves me fatigued, these days.” Within moments he was gone, passing through the doorway into the bedroom beyond, swallowed by the darkness. The fire was the only source of light within the hut, but a lack of light would hardly be a bother to the old man, Geralt thought.

Jaskier set his lute aside and flopped from his stool to the ground by the fire, stretching out nearly at Geralt’s feet. “Well, we’ve slept in worse places, hmm? Though I have to say, I hope this ritual of yours helps with how sore my back gets whenever we sleep on the ground like this.” There was something off about his tone, just this side of over cheerful, and he wasn’t looking at Geralt as he spoke. Anxiety bloomed in Geralt’s stomach like blood spilling on cloth.

“We can stay at the inn tomorrow,” was all he said, standing to make his way to the other side of the fire. There wasn’t enough room for them to sleep beside each other without being in danger of rolling into the hearth. He laid himself down on the cool dirt of the hut’s floor, watching the dim light of the fire play across the thatched roof.

“You are being nicer,” Jaskier said, but he didn’t sound teasing, or suspicious. Geralt didn’t know what that tone meant at all.

“Shut up,” he grunted, turning on his side to face away from the fire and the bard on the other side of it. “Go to sleep; we leave as soon as the rain lets up.”

Jaskier was quiet for long enough that Geralt thought he might have fallen asleep, and then he said, “Goodnight, Geralt.” It was so soft that even with his enhanced hearing, he wasn’t entirely sure Jaskier had said anything at all.

~

@whereismymonsterlover asked to be tagged in future updates! hope you all enjoyed <3

[blitheringmcgonagall]

My Gallant Lad - Part I

So I got a wonderful anon today telling me this is their favourite Lily Rescues James fic, it’s part of my canon marauders fic We Can Be Heroes. But, because it works as a stand alone, I’ll be posting it in 4  parts here. I hope you enjoy it (Lily is very BAMF here but tbh so is James). Set during First Wizarding War...

James slammed the palms of his hands down on Dumbledore’s desk.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” he said, his eyes a hot mess of emotions.

“Get your oafish hands off my desk, now!” Lily said, recovering from the initial shock almost immediately with a flash of anger.

“Your desk?” James said, taking his hands off the desk, nevertheless.

“I’m using it now, yes, I need to get these mission forms finished and signed before bringing them for filing in the Room of Requirement,” Lily said, looking back at James angrily. “What the hell is your problem, Potter?”

“My problem?” James was furious. “I’ll tell you what my problem is, Evans. My problem is that my bloody wife thought it sensible to visit Walburga Black, the same woman who thinks nothing of throwing a Crucio at her children, whose husband tried to kill Sirius, who detests muggleborns, who tried to – oh fucking hell, Lily! What the absolute, ever-living fuck possessed you?”

She had never seen him so angry. She folded her arms defensively and glared back, wondering how he had found out.

“I’ll tell you exactly what possessed me, Potter,” she said coldly. “My problem is my dickhead of a husband who nearly got himself thrown into Azkaban by the Blacks, but then thought it sensible to attend a Black family funeral, and to top it all, decided to call over to chat to Orion’s heir, as you do! Do I need to explain it further? What exactly was I meant to do? Let you read the letter and let you waltz back in there so that bitch could finish you off, once and for all?”

She was standing up now, and he couldn’t quite understand how someone so slender and uncommonly kind could look so intimidating and fierce within the space of a few seconds.

“That letter was addressed to me, damn it!” James said, his voice rising with irritation. “You had no right opening my post!”

“I don’t care!” Lily said, looking more agitated and feeling guilty. “If you think I would have let you just go there, you’re even more stupid than I gave you credit for!”

“You’re a muggleborn, Evans, fucking bloody fucking…” James’ words ran out as he waved his arm about with rage. “You could have been killed, do you understand me? Killed, damn it!”

“Yes, well, so could you, at least I have more sense! Remus and I knew what we were doing!” Lily shot back, feeling angrier by the second.

“You clearly didn’t, Evans! What you did was grossly irresponsible and wilfully sly! I don’t care what you say, you could have been killed, Evans, for fuck’s sake! When I see Moony, I’m going to kill him!”

James made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat and slammed his fist against the wall. Damn it, he was furious and livid and scared out of his wits and fucking sick of this shit.

“Remus didn’t have any choice, I told him I was going, and he decided to come with me, surely a safer bet! Don’t you dare drag Remus into this!” Lily said.

“Don’t you dare, ever, ever go behind my back like that again, ever, do you hear me?” he shouted.

“You can scream all you like, Potter, you don’t get to tell me what to do!” Lily said, her voice rising angrily.

“Don’t you dare act like you’re the innocent one in this Evans, for fuck’s sake!” James said.

“Don’t you dare raise your voice at me, Potter!” Lily said. “Get out!”

Her voice was starting to wobble which made her even madder.

“You know what? Fine!” James said, gripping his wand tightly and watching as furious sparks flew from his wand tip. “If you want to tell yourself that this is my fault, if you want to lie to yourself so you can  – ugh! Lily, don’t you dare defend this!”

“I’m not listening to your ranting any longer!” Lily said, slamming the book shut and flinging her quills and parchment into her well-worn bag.

She marched past him, livid and upset and boiling with rage. They hadn’t spoken since. James had slept at his parents’ house for a while and now, with Sirius and Remus gone, James had taken to sleeping in his friends’ bedroom. He didn’t like leaving her with only Wormy for protection. They avoided each other at mealtimes. Peter had cringed and disappeared into the relative safety of his bedroom. There was simply no way he could win if he took sides. They were both still furious.

                                                        ***

“Looks like you swapped into an easy shift,” said Edgar Bones, loosening his collar and placing his cloak over his arm. “Nothing much happening, no handover.”

“Thanks,” said James curtly.

“Lily, James,” Edgar said, tipping his hat at them, sensing something was amiss but too polite to bring it up in conversation.

“Edgar,” said James.

“Bye, Edgar, see you soon,” Lily said, smiling at him half-heartedly.

“If it stays this quiet, I’m going to try going for a kip,” said Frank Longbottom, looking at the fireplace one last time and throwing a blanket over himself.

James nodded absent-mindedly, his left hand restlessly tapping on his thigh, shooting Lily fleeting glances when he knew she wasn’t watching. He hated whenever they fought, and this had been their worst row ever. The night stayed quiet, Lily dozed off on the armchair and James watched her. He was worried about her too, she looked pale and she seemed off her food for weeks now. It added to the leaden feeling of guilt he was carrying. It was his fault. He was right, he was damned well right, and he had nothing to apologise for, but he probably would. Because he knew what he was getting himself into when he married her, didn’t he? And wouldn’t he have done the exact same thing in her place, he told himself for the umpteenth time? He transfigured his jumper into a warm, thick blanket and placed it over her gently, doubling it up and kissing the top of her head tenderly. He watched the magical fairy lights on the tree twinkling merrily. He couldn’t have felt less Christmassy. He fell asleep eventually, having transfigured the rug into a scratchy blanket.

He was woken up by a loud shout emanating from the fireplace.

“You better get your sorry arses down here immediately! I’ve just intercepted intel that a couple of Death Eaters are planning an attack on a muggle school bus in the vicinity of Newcastleton!” Dedalus Diggle’s voice crackled.

“Where’s that?” said James, his voice still croaky from sleep.

“Border between England and Scotland. Dumbledore has left a special portkey in his room that means you should be able to get anywhere, immediately. Hurry! There’s nobody else around.”

“Great!” grumbled Frank, sitting up reluctantly, but shoving his feet into his shoes without hesitation. “Typical Dumbledore, never around when you need him!”

“Get some water and rations and let’s go,” Lily said, standing up and sitting back down rather suddenly.

“Alright, Evans?” James said, with a concerned frown.

“Fine, just feeling a bit sick, probably need to eat something,” she said.

“Maybe you should stay behind?” James said.

“No!” Lily said, forcing herself to stand. “It’s fine. We can’t risk it. It’s children, James!”

James nodded immediately. He wanted to apologise, but not in front of Frank.

“Dedalus, can you try and contact a few of the others in case anyone is available to join us? We’ll be with you in a jiffy,” he said.

“No can do, I’ve also had word of another attack planned in Wales, I’m trying to get in touch with Moody as we speak!”

“Got it,” said Lily, looking at Frank and James. “Don’t worry, we’re on it!”

                                                         ***

“This place gives me the creeps,” said James, peering up at the tall trees.

The air felt thick and heavy, the branches seemed to vie with each other to block out the sunlight, suffocating. Thick moss, grey and faded, clung to everything, dried twigs and branches snapped loudly beneath their feet, disturbing the numerous birds whose harsh cries filled the air, as though spying on them, he thought, watching their acrobatic flight.

“Jackdaws,” he said quietly, moving closer to Lily.

Lily gave him a quizzical look.

“That’s their call - a short, loud, ‘kya’ sound, and they have distinctive, beady white eyes,” he added.

“Is there anything you guys don’t know?” grumbled Frank, shooting James a friendly grin.

“Nope,” James grinned back.

He moved closer to Lily, protectively, feeling a threat in the fabric of the forest, ancient memories, secret and forbidding. He had transfigured the portkey into a muggle leather bracelet, insignificant and worthless to any potential Death-Eaters, which he had placed on Lily’s wrist despite her protestations.

“They must be here somewhere,” Frank whispered, holding his wand aloft. “If we just keep walking, we’ll increase the chances of them seeing us.”

“Let’s split up, I’ll hide in there,” Lily said, pointing to a decrepit, large pine, whose gnarly trunk was rotting and held space for one person. “You two get on higher ground. We can all see the road from here. If you spot anything dangerous, send your signal.”

James’ was an owl hooting, Lily’s was the snort of a frightened deer, Frank’s was the harsh screech of a magpie.

“Alright,” James said, turning to look at Lily, feeling awkward and unsure. “Take care, please.”

“You too,” Lily said, her face unreadable.

“I’m glad Alice isn’t on call today,” Frank whispered after a pause, as they moved on carefully. “We just found out she’s pregnant. Bit of a shock really. Took us ages to figure it out, despite her feeling nauseated for a couple of weeks, being off her food, feeling dizzy and tired, you name it!”

He looked excited and pleased.

“Frank!” said James. “Wow, that’s… that’s brave of you, and rather wonderful news.”

He didn’t know what to say.

He stopped short.

Took us ages to figure it out, despite her feeling nauseated for a couple of weeks, being off her food, feeling dizzy and tired, you name it!

The night of Sirius’ twentieth Birthday. They had both forgotten to cast a contraceptive charm. Could that explain…?

“Frank, I forgot something, I need to run back to Lily, go ahead!” James said.

“You okay?” Frank said, seeing James’ face turn grey.

But he was already gone.

                                                       ***

“Lily!” James said, catching his breath.

“What is it?” Lily said, wand ready to shoot.

“Lily, have you done a pregnancy charm?”

“A what?”

“To see if you’re pregnant?”

“No, why?”

They stared at each other for a moment. Understanding dawned on her.

“James,” said Lily, her green eyes searching his anxiously.

“Let me,” James whispered, taking hold of his wife’s slender wrist and turning her palm upwards, he pointed his wand tip at her pulse point. “Gravidam!”

They both watched as James’ wand tip glowed green.

“Fuck,” he said hoarsely, staring at her.

“What does that mean, James?” Lily said.

“It means… it means you’re pregnant,” James said, running a hand through his hair in agitation. “Fucking bloody fucking…”

Lily’s eyes were wide as his words sank in. As his reaction sank in. She turned away from him and swiped hastily at the tears that fell down her cheeks silently.

“We need to…” James said urgently. “Fucking Merlin… fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“I’m sorry, alright?” Lily’s voice broke as she spoke, her lower lip trembling. “I should have been more careful. I didn’t mean this to happen now, God I really didn’t mean this to… I understand if that’s how you feel, James, but I-“

“What?” James said, turning her around to face him and taking her face in his hands tenderly. “Lily, Merlin, I don’t mean –“

The screech of a magpie rent the air and they both jumped.

“Incarcerous!” numerous voices shouted, as thick ropes coiled themselves swiftly around them, James’ wand dropping to the floor.

“Expelliarmus!” a recognisable voice added, James’ wand flying through the air. “Where’s the other one’s wand?”

“Mulciber,” James said, the blood draining from his face.

“I said, where’s your wand, bitch?” Mulciber said, grabbing Lily by the throat.

“I dropped it earlier on,” Lily rasped, staring back at him defiantly. “I can’t find it.”

“Accio Lily Evans’ wand!” Mulciber ordered, pointing his wand at Lily.

Lily’s wand flew out of the thicket behind them. Mulciber leered at Lily.

“Grab hold of them and set anti-apparition wards around them! And get them to de Soulis Castle, now!” Mulciber said to the other Death-Eaters who surrounded them. “The Dark Lord will be very disappointed to find that it isn’t Sirius Black we have captured, just a useless blood-traitor and a vile mudblood. The information we received must have been incorrect.”

“Shut the fuck up, Mulciber!” James sprang forwards in fury.

“Quiet!” Mulciber said, coming right up in front of Lily and grabbing hold of her Jacket collar. “Or she gets hurt.”

James swallowed.

I tried to laugh about it Cover it all up with lies I tried to laugh about it Hiding the tears in my eyes 'Cause boys don't cry

                                                     ***

The weathered remains of the castle loomed, malevolent, as they crossed the bridge over the moat. Fragments of a tower emerged, the holes in its walls reminiscent of a skull. While the forest around it was dry and parched, wilting and unseasonably warm, as they neared the castle gates mist descended on them. The inside of the castle felt damp and cold. Much colder. Mulciber’s breath condensed in front of him as he spoke, frost clung to the corners of the walls, there were no windows in the great hall.

He had seen this room before… where?

The heavy double doors leading into the main banqueting hall swung open, and four men entered, none of their faces were masked.

“Villiers, Wilkes, Rosier, Snape,” said Mulciber, with a cold laugh. “Your very closest allies, I believe? I failed to retrieve the disowned Black heir, but I found these.”

Villiers and Wilkes giggled. Silence descended as another figure entered the room, the five men bowing immediately. Muciber pushed James and Lily forcefully and they fell forwards onto their knees. James watched as Voldemort approached slowly, with a gleeful expression. He zoned in on Snape, Snape who was watching Lily with terror on his face, before carefully schooling it into neutral.

The room.

McGonagall’s grim tones echoed in his mind.

“So, a group of Death Eaters, who appear to have captured Lily Evans, in an unidentified location?”

Divination class. His vision. He had forseen this.

“Lily,” he said quietly, speaking through his teeth. “Do you trust me to get us out?”

He was sure Voldemort could hear his heart pounding.

“If you have an idea, I’m all in,” Lily murmured, watching Voldemort as he drew nearer.

“Leave it to me,” he whispered.

Taking a deep breath, he turned and locked eyes with Severus Snape.

“Fuck you, Severus Snape! You absolute bastard! Stay the fuck away from my wife, do you hear? Don’t you dare go near her, you fucking piece of shit! I despise you, Snivellus! You fucking coward! Bastard cursed Death Eater! Stay the fuck away from her or I’ll kill you with my bare hands!” James screamed.

[pinkbalrog]

Of Gods and Tombs

A Noragami Lost Tomb AU I decided to actually write up. Apologies for cultural errors. I probably could have researched more. No offense was meant. :) Feel free to comment. I consciously tried not to sink too much focus into this because I am a perfectionist and would have brooded over this for weeks, and I do have other projects! All supernatural elements are improvised, perhaps badly. I also wasn’t sure of Xiao Er Ye? Thoughts? I don’t know Chinese : (. 

Mentioning @jockvillagersonly because they have been ridiculously nice. :)

Here we go!

Pangzi stared. The man stared back, holding Pangzi’s wilting incense in one hand. He’d been, savoring it? Maybe? Wide eyes stared back over a thin trail of smoke and, was he blushing?

“Who the FUC-”

“Shhhh!” the man lunged forward. He dropped the incense, wincing and grabbed Pangzi’s arm. “You’ll wake something up!”

“You’re something!”

“We can talk but—yes, I am?”

Pangzi got a handful of silk. Where did he get the hanfu? He jerked him close, eyes narrowed, grinning so hard his cheeks ached. “You,” he grated, “are not part of the expedition”.

Wide eyes blinked at him. “What expedition?” Pangzi cuffed him.

“You think I came in here alone? You did not come in with us.” The guy wasn’t frail, was pretty solid actually, but he had the look of a bird plucked out of a net.  

“No. Obviously?” Thoughts moved rapidly behind his eyes, and he scanned Pangzi, taking in his sweat stained shirt, abraded hands, and his unshaven face. “You came with a group then, and you came up.” He pried off Pangzi’s grip and took a step towards the dark where Pangzi had dragged the heavy door mostly into place. “At least that’s the only way you’d be in this corridor, it’s inaccessible on this level.”

Pangzi gaped. He exclaimed, “Then how the hell did you get here?” The man ignored him, squatting down to look at Pangzi’s sleeping bag. Pangzi stepped in front of it defensively.

The man continued, “They must be dead, otherwise you wouldn’t be alone, and you need help”. He nodded at Pangzi, as if they were having a discussion. They were not.

Pangzi loomed over him. “Again, how are you here?”

The man rolled back on his heels, straightened, and damn well held his hands in front of him like he was lecturing. Long sleeves slid back from thin wrists. His hair was short, and not neat at all. “I’ve been here for a long time, and I need help too.”

“You,” Pangzi sputtered, “you need help. You look, look you’re not a ghost right? You would have already tried to kill me. Right. I’m sitting down for this.” And he threw himself down on the platform of the pitiful, wedged open coffin, nearly squashing his back pack. He crossed his arms. “Well, what’s your name?”

The guy, whoever he was, smiled hopefully. “You can call me Xiao Er Ye.”

Pangzi grunted. “Wang Pangzi”.

Xiao Er Ye bowed, weirdly formal.

Stretching out his legs, which ached from walking uneven corridors for literal days, Pangzi idly rifled through his bag until he had a good grip on his gun, then he pulled out a water bottle and let it hang from his hand. “And what are you anyway?”

“I’m a god.”

The bottle thunked on the floor. “What?”

Xiao Er Ye smiled wider.

Pangzi sneered. He waved his arms. “A god. Bullshit.” Whoever lost their lunatic in that pathetic village was probably wondering what hole they fell into. Pangzi’s hole apparently.

Xiao Er Ye regarded him steadily. “It’s true. Did you wonder why I had your incense?” Pangzi scoffed,

“Becasue you’re a weirdo?”

“Because your offering allowed me to appear to you.”

“Right. And that seems like a reasonable explanation to you?”

He was ridiculous, but he was really clean. There was fat on his bones, and his nails were neat. Pangzi let go of the gun, considering. The guy clearly got in here very recently, which meant there was a way out. Could Pangzi humor the lunatic to get out of a literal death trap? Hell yes.

“Oookay,” he drawled, “So you’re a god. I can see you. What do you need my help for, your holiness?”

Immediately, Xiao Er Ye sat close beside him. “I can’t leave here because someone is here in a trap meant for me. I can’t free him because the trap is meant for me.” He paused to see if Pangzi was following. Pangzi smiled wide. Apparently reassured, Xiao Er Ye went on, “and I’m having a hard enough time keeping the trap from doing what it’s supposed to do, which is make the whole thing even more inescapable. You’re mortal, so you can free him”.

Taking a drink, Pangzi considered. So yes, Xiao Er Ye was off his rocker. He put the cap back on and asked,

“But do you know a way out of here?”

“Yes, many.”

“And you’re still here.”

Xiao Er Ye set his jaw, obstinate. “I need help.”

Pangzi tapped the bottle. So, do one nonsensical thing and finally get out? Or do nothing and lose what might be a chance. He remembered red hands, gleaming wetly.  

“Okay,” he said, and watched Xiao Er Ye light up. He was ridiculously easy to read. “Say I believe you. How does this work?”  

“I lead you to the trap, and you follow my instructions. Then we get out.”

Pangzi eyed him incredulously. “Then we get out. No real plan for that?”

Xiao Er Ye grinned, gestured at the tomb around them, and said, “That’s the easy part.”

Pangzi snorted. “Easy he says.” He made a production of standing up, and folded, “You better not screw me over, your holiness.”

“Thank you.” Pangzi paused. Xiao Er Ye’s voice was soft, earnest, “Thank you Wang Pangzi.”

Pangzi huffed a laugh. Atleast this was a harmless idiot. “Yeah, you’re welcome, let’s go get your boyfriend, or whatever, and get out of here.”

Xiao Er Ye’s voice pitched up, “my whatever?” and he kept talking.

Ignoring him, Pangzi faced the door. Damn it, he had to shift it again.

 . . .

Pangzi reconsidered this decision. He reconsidered it strongly. Ripping another lotus arrow out of his shirt he threw it at Xiao Er Ye. Xiao Er Ye dodged, and it clicked on the floor with all the others. This was trap number six. He tried to stay calm.

“And why,” he hissed, “Are you setting off every trap in this godsdamned tomb? How are there even this many left? Didn’t you come this way? Why aren’t you dead? Are you dead? Are you a fucking ghost because so help me I will hit you.”

Turns out, Xiao Er Ye was right about the corridor earlier being inaccessible from that level, but you could climb up another pit trap. Pangzi was getting very tired of squeezing up pit traps, and apparently this guy just clambered up and down them? Without getting dirty? Without seeming flustered in the least? Maybe his people put him in the hole on purpose. Was this all just enrichment? Even the spear traps? It was a fucking blessing that they seemed to be malfunctioning, or aged past effectiveness.

Xiao Er Ye looked sheepish, shrugging. “I forgot to worry about them? I’m usually not materially here when I walk around, but you need to see me and get past them so...”

Pangzi took a deep breath and counted to ten. “I need a drink”.

“Are you hurt though?” and now Xiao Er Ye was all sharp-eyed and attentive, all his focus on Pangzi, on his bruises and battered ego. Pangzi’s shoulders slumped.

“From this?” he shook his head and clapped a hand on Xiao Er Ye’s shoulder, “I’m fine. Can we just—what is THAT?”

There were hands, white, emaciated hands pressing through the stones at their feet. Black writhed up. Shrieking, Pangzi stomped, and stomped again.

Xiao Er Ye was stomping too, ranting, “Oh not again, no no I will not humor you. Do you want to be dead? Really? I told you no!”

The hands shrank back with a plaintive keen and one last lingering caress on Xiao Er Ye’s leg.

Pangzi and Xiao Er Ye stood there, breathing heavily. Their eyes met. Xiao Er Ye wore a strained smile and he looked, desperate.  

“So,” Pangzi stepped past Xiao Er Ye, careful not to step on any cracks, “Where next?” He didn’t look back, but he heard Xiao Er Ye take a shaky breath.

“Down this way. We’re almost there.”

. . .

“Almost there” was a lie. Pangzi sympathized, he did. It seemed Xiao Er Ye really believed a friend of his was down here; but the longer it took to reach, whatever it was, the more Pangzi worried he wouldn’t get the chance to talk Xiao Er Ye down, and nudge him towards showing both of them out of the tomb. He did not want to wander until he starved, or end up like his former team mates, spattered across the walls of a noisome pit.

The corridors were getting smoother, more ornate, and Pangzi swore he could feel fresh air vented in from somewhere. Xiao Er Ye was silent now, heading doggedly forward. Finally, he turned a corner, and, in the light of Pangzi’s flashlight, there were massive doors, green gold bronze with jade inset panels. They glimmered, untouched by dust. In fact, and here Pangzi swung his flashlight around, splendor wasn’t confined to the doors. There were murals faded but intricate all over the walls of the corridor.

There was no way to smuggle those doors out, but Pangzi wanted. His fingers twitched. Why had the expedition come in on a lower grade? If they’d realized the tomb was mostly vertical, that stuff like this was at the top, well, this would have been a different raid altogether. It was quiet, hushed but for the sound of Pangzi’s and Xiao Er Ye’s foot steps, the sound of their breathing, and the rustle of Xiao Er Ye’s ornate coat as he strode forward.

The doors swung open at a touch, soundlessly, and, hesitating in the corridor, Pangzi believed for the first time, that maybe Xiao Er Ye was non-human, at least a little. Was this really real? He pinched himself, which hurt. Nothing changed.

What prayers had he used, when he lit the incense? He lost track sometimes. Was he even doing any of them correctly? “Pangzi?” Xiao Er Ye’s voice echoed.

Pangzi swallowed his nerves, steeled his gut and called back, “Yeah, yeah I’m coming.” Inside was a riot of gold statues, positioned as an audience, a circle of jade set into a stone platform, intact the whole way around, and a man suspended in the air, curled defensively, dark hair falling over his shoulders. Long sleeves of richest, deepest blue, hung from his slender frame, and as Pangzi crept closer, rapt, he saw that the man’s face was ridiculously pretty. He seemed asleep. He was definitely, no doubt about it, floating.

“What.”

“I told you,” that was Xiao Er Ye, his voice grim. He was standing at the edge of the jade circle, intent on the characters carved inside it. He was holding out his hands, and for the first time, in the weird eldritch light the whole thing gave off, Pangzi could see scars on Xiao Er Ye’s palms and wrists, as if they’d but cut with a straight blade. Xiao Er ye shook, straining to reach with everything in him.

“Please, Pangzi, you can break it.” 

Pangzi felt, calm, as if he was in his home town, standing outside the Lucky Frog bar, staring into the fervid eyes of old man Wei. His voice was even,

“What happened to your hands?”

“My hands?” Xiao Er Ye drew back, glancing at his palms, “What does it matter?” he looked back at the circle, “I tried to put more of me in the circle, to get it to grab me but blood didn’t work, or hair. They just, evaporated, or fell apart on contact and nothing works. Please, break it.”

“How long have you, right—What do I do?”

Xiao Er Ye’s instructions apparently, amounted to “break it” all his easy words gone. Pangzi tried wedging the jade up, but he couldn’t get any purchase, and blunt force didn’t even dent it. He sat, panting, and chugged the last of his water. Xiao Er Ye stood by, fretting.

“I can’t, not like this.”

“What?” Xiao Er Ye hunched, looking very small.

Pangzi stood with effort, and stretched, turning to loosen the muscles of his core. “So you’re a god huh, sure it’s not that guy? He looks more, holy.”

Xiao Er Ye’s face was stone. It was unnatural. “I’m a god. He’s Xiao ge” and he said Xiao ge as if, of all things in the world, that he was most sure of.

“So you can get us out, if say, I blow up the room?”

Xiao Er Ye burst forward, breathless and all glimmering silk, “You can do that?”

Pangzi bared his teeth, “Oh hell yeah.”

. . .

Turns out it was a good thing he’d lugged all those incendiaries up so many floors. It took a while, but Xiao Er Ye had surprisingly steady hands once he had something to do with them. He talked to Xiao ge as he worked, but it wasn’t any dialect Pangzi knew, and he didn’t ask. At the last, Xiao Er Ye made Pangzi stand close, so close that he could smell incense and something like petrichor.

Xiao Er Ye met his eyes and Pangzi hit the trigger.

. . .

The world was dust. Dust and nothing. No sound or feeling, like the world fell away. It cut back in as a blade to the throat.

A literal blade. Pangzi was suddenly, viscerally aware of sun, beaming down on him, of the rumble and clatter of stone as the chamber collapsed around them, radiating outward. He ached, he was thirtsy, his stomach drew in, his breath caught, and they were out.

Xiao Er Ye was standing behind Xiao-ge, who was awake, with a predatory gaze pinned on Pangzi’s face. He held a black and gold sword against Pangzi’s throat and one arm was held out in front of Xiao Er Ye. Xiao Er Ye blinked, looking dazed.

“Uh” Pangzi tried again, throat dry, “Xiao Er Ye?”

The god shook his head, drew a deep breath, and noticed Xiao ge. “Xiao ge!”

He threw himself on him dragging him away from Pangzi. Xiao ge went willingly raising a long fingered hand to Xiao Er Ye’s arm, gazing into his face with an intensity that hurt to look at. Xiao Er Ye, reverent, cupped his face, grazing his thumbs beneath ink dark eyes. He breathed out, bright eyed, “You’re awake.”

Pangzi found somewhere else to look. All that shattered gold looked promising.

. . .

The chamber they’d broken was indeed, at the top of the tomb, and had seemingly been built atop an older structure, carved out from inside the tomb so that it was built on top of a place of death, so that it would draw Xiao Er Ye up. From where, Pangzi didn’t ask. What he knew was that there were trees, green and rustling, and sunlight warm on his face. The underbrush was thick, but they managed to find a route that wouldn’t exhaust them within an hour. Pangzi got out his kukri, and Xiao-ge put his sword to better use.

Together, they made their way through the trees, Xiao-ge going ahead, presumably to clear the way of threats, like squirrels. He’d tied back his heavy sleeves and accepted a torn bit of silk from Xiao Er Ye to pull back his hair. Pangzi watched him go, then turned to Xiao Er Ye, who practically glowed. Was he literally glowing? It was hard to tell. The god stood on his toes, soft eyed and open, watching where Xiao ge went.

Pangzi cleared his throat, and asked, “So if you’re a god, what’s he?”

Xiao Er Ye started, then settled back on his heels. “Oh! He’s a Hafuri vessesl!” Pangzi looked at him, dead eyed. “Oh, it means he is the most loyal and, potent? Of shinki, of named spirits that serve a god.”

Pangzi mulled that over. He dug out a few protein bars and made to hand one to Xiao Er Ye, who declined. “Named spirits?”

“Gods give spirits a new existence with a name. He is Xiao ge. He becomes a tattoo! It’s beautiful.”

Pangzi unwrapped his bar and replied, “Right. A tattoo.” He drew himself up, and bit the bullet, asking, “And what god are you?”

But it was Xiao-ge who answered, stealthy as a cat creeping up on them, regarding Xiao Er Ye with a warm gaze, “Qinguang Wang”.

Pangzi choked. “What?”

The God of death and misfortune ducked his head, then smirked impishly, leaning into Pangzi’s personal space. Neatly, he swung Pangzi around to face forward, and rested his with an arm over Pangzi’s shoulders. “And you’re a Priest now!”

Pangzi stopped dead. “What.” He blinked, raised a hand to his chin, and asked carefully, “Are there perks?”

The god’s laughter pealed out, obnoxiously loud. Xiao ge’s lip twitched upward. He glanced at Pangzi, and intoned, nodding gravely, “Do well.” He resumed his walk ahead of them.

Pangzi shrugged off the—his god’s arm and stomped after him, “And what is that supposed to mean? I haven’t even agreed to this yet!”

. . .

Pangzi insisted that the shrine have a full size kitchen and more than one Hello Kitty egg timer.

Fin

[syuga-s]

The Last Time

w.c 4.3k

pairing. Jooheon x gn!reader

genre. angst, a little fluff maybe, idk how to classify it but it's my take on relationships in real life(?)

a/n. (warnings) I throw some curses here and there, mention of the word "sex" once, tried to make it as gender-neutral as possible, I could really use some help about t/w, feedback is more than welcome, hope you like the fic 🧍‍♀️

Once again you were at the same bar. With the same friends. Same music. Same drinks. It's safe to say that nothing's changed in here but you.

For some reason, you were awfully quiet tonight. Everyone was away from the table by now. All of them talking and dancing in groups.

You were regretting saying yes to going out the very moment Jasmine was at your front door. But your best friend really wanted to get you out of your house.

The thing is you weren’t going to be alone, all of your friends were tagging along. I guess I need to suck it up, maybe I could have fun, despite him.

And you really tried, there was no need to make a scene anymore. All of your friends have had their fair share of nights seeing you 'talk' with him and making things awkward for everyone. It's been a while, though. You haven't seen him in exactly 2 years.

How do I explain this? There's no resentment anymore, no hate for what happened between you. But when there's a choice between spending your Friday night at the same place as him or staying at home? Well...

But tonight was clearly different. Something (Jasmine) had dragged you here and to be quite honest, it hasn’t been half bad yet. Jasmine kept waiting for you to get up from your chair to come and chat with Jackson and Changkyun. Her all-time crush and his best friend.

"In a sec!! Just let me finish this drink!" You said while you showed her your glass. She quickly nodded and turned to keep talking with those two. You have to remember to thank them later for keeping her entertained because if it weren't for them cracking jokes every single second, she wouldn't have let you off the hook that easily.

Meanwhile, you decided to get a little lost in your head. Laughing to yourself because you were feeling like having a main character moment. Being the only one sat down in a place full of people. The mysterious persona drinking by themselves.

But that didn't last long.

"Mind if I sit here?" You shook your head. He put his drink next to yours and asked, "How are you?" And it somehow felt like you couldn’t have avoided this exact situation.

You released a breath that you didn't even know you were holding. "I'm sitting Jooheon, drinking… existing, you?" He forced himself to smile. Trying to hide the fact that he was still feeling uneasy around you. Nonetheless, showing you the dimples that you used to love so much.

“I can see that”, he paused, "it's been a lot since I last saw you, you look different".

You hummed softly, finally making eye contact with him. "So you expected for me to look the same?" You surely weren't going to pass up the opportunity to be passive-aggressive to him.

It still makes you happy to know that he has never minded this side of you.

"I'm teasing, I guess we both look different, it's been what? Two years?"

"I'm not sure, but it feels like a lot" He took a sip of his drink and started to fidget with the glass. Maybe you're not the only one that's changed after all.

In the two years, you were together, you never saw him like this. But let's remember the fact that you never fully knew him back then. It just feels weird to see him this anxious. Especially with you.

"I've wanted to reach out to you for a while now," You frowned at his words. "Guess I lacked a little courage" He let out an airy laugh. "I really want to talk to you".

Now it was your turn to feel tense. What is this supposed to mean? How long has he been wanting to talk? And talk about what?

You tilted your head and opened your mouth to ask him all this, but he didn't give you the chance to get the words out.

"Before you say something, please believe me I just wanna talk", "but not in here”.

"Alright then, where do you suggest we ‘talk’ Jooheon?” He took his phone out to check the time. 10:44 p.m. He pursed his lips and said, more like hesitating, "I could walk you home?"

You stared off into your group of friends. This was going to make their night interesting. Seeing you two go together again, just like all those times before.

Jooheon's been waiting for this since he saw on your social media that you were leaving the city. And Jasmine took care of letting him know that you would be coming back in about 6 months.

That was a year ago. More than 365 days waiting to be in the same room with you. Praying that you would let him talk to you. Not that you would reject him. But he was scared, he was perfectly aware he messed up everything.

As you were both saying goodbyes to your friends, you started to think about how everything had ended between you two.

You know what? Yes, maybe I was wrong in ghosting him but after all, I don't owe him anything. Just like he threw me out of his life two years ago. We didn't work out, he never communicated with me. He didn't choose me back. I just had to watch him get rid of me, no explanations, no nothing. And I find it really hard to believe that he's been dying to talk to me. What could be so important that he wants to have a proper conversation? How will I explain to him that I stopped replying for no particular reason? That I just realized that we weren't good together, and I had to let go of him? Should I tell him that no matter my hard feelings, I still thought about him constantly?

You had left each other in the cold back then.

He called your name, and you snapped back to reality. Didn't even realize you were already outside of the bar when he softly asked you, "aren't you cold?"

You smirked and told him "Well yeah, walking back home in this weather wasn't in my plans dummy, but I didn't bring a jacket though".

He used to be so attentive to you. One of the other things you used to love about him. Always concerned about you.

He simply put his jacket around you and started walking before you could complain about something as simple as this. Like you always did.

It feels nice to know that someone in this world knows you to this extent. The way you’ll react to simple things. How can you still love someone despite knowing that you don’t work together?

You realized he still has this jacket. It's the same one he gave me the first night we spent together. Why do I have to remember this now? Not fair. Maybe he wore it on purpose.

You gave a little run to catch him. Now that you were by his side, you were getting impatient, "Can you please start talking? I'm intrigued by all your seriousness".

You were kind of hating this feeling. Everything about him felt familiar. Suddenly, you wanted to cling your arm to his but thought twice about it.

He chuckled. "Well it's not super serious, I want us to have a nice conversation, you know?" You snorted at this, what does a nice talk mean?

"I can be nice, as long as you tell me WHAT you wanna talk about…", "come on Jooheon, just get to the point".

"Okay!! OKAY… I-" he took a deep breath and continued, "First of all, I want to apologize to you for everything, then I want us to talk about what happened between us if that's okay with you?"

You'd be lying if you didn't say that you wanted this to happen since you drew apart the first time. You always dreamt of having an adult conversation with him.

But the dream left your mind bit by bit. Just like your heart got itself back together after he left you, piece by piece.

Overwhelmed, you could only stare straight ahead into the street. He called your name again. Now your eyes were on his, and you could see his concerns. How his mind was going miles per hour, just like yours.

"I want to apologize too,” you smiled and finally let yourself link arms with him. “It’s gonna take us a while, isn’t it?”.

The walk to your apartment took around 15 minutes. The words you exchanged with Jooheon were kept to a minimum. You weren’t gonna get into the heavy stuff right there in the street.

When you finally arrived, you gave him back his jacket. It was gonna get uncomfortable to talk with him with a piece of clothing that made you remember too much.

“Want something to drink? I have a beer, wine, you name it”. He sat on your couch while you searched for something non-alcoholic in your little fridge. “A beer would be okay”.

You got yourself some water. Otherwise, your head would be fuzzy, and wouldn’t be able to tell him all you’ve had on your mind for years.

You handed him the bottle, and you took your seat on the carpet. Your mind wandered off to the last time he was in here.

When he told you goodnight and planted a soft kiss on your lips like he always did. You knew it wasn’t a simple ‘good night’, for you.

You remembered how your eyes followed him until he closed the door of your apartment.

He took a swig of his drink and by the time he put the bottle on your little coffee table, it made you realize he was sitting right there, in front of you.

Finally, gathering the courage to start telling you what was on his mind. “I never thought I’d get the chance to talk to you again”.

I didn’t think so, either. We both fucked up multiple times.

──────────────────────

You were never a couple. After 5 years, you never understood what had lacked between you. The desire was there. Now and then you had your moments of happiness. Usually on the weekends.

When you met, you weren’t looking for love or a serious relationship. At least one of you.

Jooheon was free, like the wind or like a bird. He flew back and forth and once in a while he needed to land somewhere for a while. Every so often he sought another fire, another bed, other arms that weren’t yours.

The time came when he made you feel a million things inside. Overwhelmed with words and emotions, mostly love. But also turmoil and maybe desperation.

It made you happy that he made you feel so much after being empty for months. You felt different with him. It was the kind of love you didn’t know you had in you. Didn’t even think it was possible to express about someone like this. Until him.

You didn’t need anyone else. You just needed Jooheon. Not only that, but you didn’t care for how long your love would last because you believed that the meaning of the word love was what you had built together.

A few hours together. Every so often the whole night.

But when the morning came, the nightmare started to take form. Texts at inappropriate hours, and even unanswered messages.

You started thinking that you didn’t know better. You started feeling insecure. Replaceable. Maybe he knows better than to be with me.

Desperate to know what you had. But afraid that you would ruin everything with the words “What are we?”.

Tried to convince yourself that all of this was okay. That it was a good thing that you were going slow, giving him the chance to open up to you.

Months kept passing and your trust in him was running thin. He made you feel weird on the daily. Wondering if he was seeing someone else. If he danced with someone tonight. Had they kissed? Is he having sex with someone who isn’t me? What if he’s tired of me?

You wanted to be with him, but It was starting to hurt.

I hate that when I try to get myself to think that I don’t like you anymore… you do these little things that make me love you.

When you were together, he treated you like there was no one else for him. His hand was always wrapped up in yours. Talking until dawn, about college, his family, and your relationship. Those times, you couldn’t lie to yourself about your feelings.

He was the only face you could see in the world. The only guy you’ve ever wanted to keep around. But how did we get to this point?

The day you told him you were starting to fall in love with him, all he could reply was, “I don’t know what to say, I never thought you would be in love with me”.

“That’s all you have to say?”

“Well what do you want me to say? You took me by surprise”.

“You could tell me how you feel. I’m not expecting for you to tell me you love me back, I-“

There’s no return now, you have to keep talking.

“I’m just tired of not knowing what’s in your head, I’m not sure if you want to have something with me anymore, it’s okay if you don’t so, just be honest with me”.

“I like you”. You stayed quiet after hearing this, urging him to tell you more than just three words.

“I mean, of course, I’m attracted to you”.

At that moment, you liked what you heard. But the more you thought about it, you realized that he didn’t actually care for you, or loved you. Maybe that was a greedy thought from you. Maybe you expected too much.

You were angry but mostly angry at yourself.

Why are you still waiting for him? It's been years and nothing has happened between you. Nothing ever will at this point.

You ended up telling him not to bother you again, that if this was his way of ‘loving’ you, you were better off without it.

But that was a lie, you longed for your phone to show his name, even if it was at 5 A.M. Still thinking that there was no other way to love someone.

Unable to put an end to it, months kept passing and nothing changed between you. Jooheon had many others, and you only had him.

You loved spending nights like this by his side, watching him sleep, wondering for hours about you two. Unable to explain how you could love him this much.

Maybe he did love you, but you can’t handle this kind of love anymore. It’s better for both of you to end this, whatever it was because it's driving you crazy. And you meant it this time.

Jooheon told you goodnight and planted a soft kiss on your lips like he always did.

You knew it wasn’t a simple ‘good night’ for you, this was the last time you were gonna let him in. Your eyes followed him until he closed the door of your apartment. Fighting back your tears while softly saying to yourself, “I’m always going to love you…”.

The texts at 5 A.M. came again, but this time there was no answer. Jooheon started calling and sending texts for days, but you didn’t reply. All your efforts in disappearing from him on social media weren’t stopping him.

He met someone else, yet the texts wouldn’t stop. Until one day they did.

Now and then your curiosity would get the best of you and you would see his Instagram stories with her. An older girl you had met once. They were supposed to be friends.

You wanted to avoid comparing yourself to her but, he never posted something with you. It’s a dumb thing to worry about, but it’s one of those things that sometimes matter.

You tried to understand the whole situation. Accept the fact that you two weren’t meant to be. That he didn’t see a future with you.

Your days stopped revolving around him. You focused your time on getting your degree, learning another language, going out with your friends. Even tried meeting new people.

There were a few here and there. No one was enough for you.

Your ideas of love and relationships were different now. You gave another meaning to the word love. You wanted to find someone who would love you and take care of you. A quiet kind of love, real love.

What you had with Jooheon, was something you never wanted to experience again. Days went by, even months until you saw each other once more; for the first time in Jooheon’s life, he felt a knot in his stomach, he knew he lost you, for good this time.

Months passed and Jooheon left his girlfriend. He now felt different because he looked for you in everyone, yet he couldn’t find you, and he felt empty.

He cursed himself a thousand times for not knowing how to appreciate you and the love you gave him for two whole years. Tears finally fell from his eyes, he couldn’t believe he was crying for someone, crying for love, crying for you.

He took his phone out, swallowed hard, and started typing another text.

“I miss you, and I need you with me now and always, I never thought I would say this, but I’m not happy without you. Maybe I should’ve loved you less and loved you better, I just want you to know that I’ll always be waiting for you my sweet y/n…”

But the message was never delivered. You had changed your number.

It made sense that you would do that someday. It’s been too long, but this didn’t stop him from sending you texts in the middle of the night. When he felt the overwhelming need to have his arms wrapped around you.

──────────────────────

I still love you

(9:05 p.m.)

no, I don’t

(9:06 p.m.)

I’m confused why did this happen

(2:26 a.m.)

I want you to be happy, if this is what it takes then I’m okay with it. be happy. for me. please.

(10:45 a.m.)

I kind of hate you for changing your number

(8:57 p.m.)

I’m sorry

(1:43 a.m.)

maybe if I wasn’t so fucked up this wouldn’t have happened

(3:37 a.m.)

why can’t things be like they were before

(10:13 a.m.)

please come back to me. I need you. You need me

(1:58 a.m.)

I still want you

(4:06 a.m.)

──────────────────────

The day you left town was the day he swore to himself to try his best to get another chance to talk to you, just once more. To make things right, not caring anymore about his pride. He just wanted to let you know everything he didn’t say when you were by his side.

That he was sorry that it took him too long to acknowledge he was wrong. That he knew he was a little too late and wishes that he could say something more meaningful than a simple “I want you back”.

──────────────────────

“I wonder why” You smirked at him.

The more you kept making eye contact, the more you realized you didn’t feel any kind of resentment anymore. You both had grown, and while you didn’t actually need this kind of closure, you figured this was the healthiest moment to do so.

His eyes were avoiding you now, his smile was still there, but you could tell he lost a bit of his confidence. “Okay, so I’m gonna talk first, please just hear me out. I want to rip the band-aid,” He said with a forced laugh.

“I don’t know why I could never tell you that love scares me. That it scares me to be attached to someone”. His tone was soft now.

“I still play in my head the day you told me you were falling in love with me. I couldn’t bring myself to tell you not to tell me those things because you could have changed your mind any moment”.

“I never told you how I felt one of the many nights you spent with me. You were stroking my hair and I seriously felt like crying because I was fucking scared”.

“I was scared to lose you”.

“I’m sorry because I know I made you think I didn’t want you for something serious. I’m sorry for being immature”.

“I look at you now, and I’m happy to get to see you like this. You’re still everything I’ve ever wished for and more. You need to know that nothing compares to you”.

“And believe me, I don’t expect you to take my words as a way of asking you for another chance, I know I don’t deserve it… but I would really love it if you could let me show you I could love you better this time”.

You never imagined these words coming out of his mouth. Couldn’t believe how he was looking at you. Hopeful but understanding at your loss for words.

“Can I ask you one last thing?” His voice was barely audible, but you nodded at him.

“Well, maybe it’s not an actual question, but I’d like to know why you stopped talking to me”.

“Look Jooheon, I don’t know how everything I wanna say will come out, so please bear with me”.

You didn’t know where to start, either.

There were so many things to be said that you were getting nervous to start talking. Because once you opened your mouth, you didn’t know if you would be able to piece everything together.

“When everything ended I really wanted to hate you, everyone around me hated you,” you admitted to him, “except for me and I hated that”.

“I knew that all I could be able to do was cut you from my life, so I just decided to stop talking to you”.

It may sound harsh, but it’s the truth. “I admit it was a poor way of handling things, and I’m sorry for that”.

You’ve always been scared of having this type of conversation.

You let out a sigh because you never thought that the following words were gonna come out of your mouth, ever.

“I’ve only been in love once in my life, and that was when I was with you”.

“It used to frustrate me that I wasn’t able to make it work with anyone after you. I couldn’t help but compare everyone to you”.

“I swore to myself that I never wanted to go through the same thing we had, maybe because those memories are yours and I don't want anyone else messing that up, you made me feel so safe, I felt alive with you, nothing could stop me when I had you”. 

“You've been the only one I've ever wanted to see every day, no matter the hour or how busy I was, I truly wanted everything with you”.

You hadn’t noticed how he had been looking at you this entire time. He couldn’t believe that you used to feel that way about him. Still couldn’t wrap his head around hearing you say how you loved him.

You quickly wiped a tiny little tear that escaped your eye, hoping we wouldn’t notice. But he did.

You let out a nervous laugh and said, “I’m not sad, I swear, It’s just that I never thought I would say all this out loud, especially to you”.

“You don't know how many times I wanted to call you, run to you”.

“Last year before I left I wanted to see you, I kept trying to convince myself that It didn't have to mean anything, that I was just desperate for any physical touch, but from time to time, I wonder if what I really needed was just you”.

He didn’t say anything. So you just said his name out loud. “Jooheon…” Followed by a long pause.

“I feel so different now”.

“When I was far away from you, I realized that I need someone who isn’t absent when it comes to me, someone that isn’t a ghost in my life”.

While you were talking, you were watching his every move and how he couldn’t stop playing with his rings. You’re still not used to seeing him act like this.

“At this point, I want someone who will take care of me, that makes me feel safe. Someone who wants to be with me because they love me, and they love to have me next to them. I’m beyond only spending the night over, I want whole days”.

You finally got up from the floor and sat next to Jooheon. Facing him, making him do the same. He kept looking at you for a whole minute but it felt like hours.

You didn’t know what to do after his following words.

“What I realized with being away from you is that I was pushing away what I’ve always wanted. I wasn’t confident that I could meet you where you were. I felt it would be better not to waste your time back then, but that was then, and this is now…”

You kept looking at each other a little too long. Both realizing you didn't need words anymore. The love was still there.

[thenamesseven]

Pairing: Jongho x reader

Genre: Romance, angst, jail au!

Warnings: Angst, mentions of violence, mentions of an accident.

Word count: 4.4k

A/N: SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG WITH THIS CHAPTER BUT I WAS SO STUCK IN SOME SCENES 😭 Hope that the wait was worth it and that you can forgive me!

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“He’s not alone?” The question echoed in the silence of his office, his heart beating slightly faster in his chest when he received the affirmative answer he was hoping to get.

His eyes met Jaehyun’s, the both of them had been sitting in his office, standing the pressure and waiting for the phone call that would confirm if the first step of their plan was successful or not. Seongwha had been reclining back on his chair, feet on his desk as he moved from side to side, rocking himself in an attempt to release some tension. Jaehyun preferred to stay still and stare at the phone, only raising his eyes when Seonghwa picked it up.

The both of them smiled in unison when they heard their worker’s answer, the objective had been Wooyoung but if luck was on their side tonight and you had been in that car as well then none of them would complain about it. They’ve just killed two birds with one stone, two humans with a car accident to be exact.

All the panick he had felt when he found out Wooyoung had been spying on them vanished quickly, now the only one left to deal with was Jongho and he was locked between the walls of the prison he owned. There was not much he could do from here, Seonghwa’s control was back, the situation had been fixed before it got too out of hand.

“Wait a second, I’ll send you a picture so we’re sure it is her and not somebody else” Seonghwa met Jaehyun’s eyes again before sending a picture he had saved on his phone gallery of you, guiding the phone back to his ear almost instantly after sending it. There was more silence, some arguing from the other side of the line that made him roll his eyes a little and right when he was about to clear his throat and demand an answer, the guys Jaehyun hired gave him the response both of them had been hoping for “Get rid of her” He said smiling, hearing Jaehyun sighed relieved “Make sure both of them are dead, we don’t want any surprises”

Without waiting for any kind of response from Jaehyun’s men, Seonghwa hung up on the call and sighed comfortably, letting his phone fall from his hand to the table before he crossed his arms on his chest, glancing at his friend with a happiness that could only be described as madness. How could they be so happy about killing someone?

“One less problem” He whispered smiling, closing his eyes as if he was about to take a nap. “Life works in such funny ways, doesn’t it?” Seonghwa asked Jaehyun, hearing him hum in agreement.

“Now we just have to deal with Jongho, leave him to me” He said standing up, not interested about spending more time with Seonghwa now that he knew his plan had succeeded it “I’ll make sure to deliver the bad news as softly as possible”

Sarcasm dripped out of his words like amusement flowed through the chuckles he let out while he exited the room

It was the smell of burnt plastic and the overwhelming hot temperatures were what brought you back to consciousness first. A whine escaped your lips when you opened your eyes, vision blurry as you tried to scan your surroundings but unfortunately, you weren’t able to see or at least process, the situation you were in right now.

“Wooyoung”

The memory of your friend on the driver’s side was what made you call out his name, a wave of pain going down your body when you tried to look to the side where he was supposed to be. Even though you couldn’t see clearly, you could distinguish his figure on the driver side, unconscious with his forehead resting on the steering wheel.

“Wooyoung”

This time your voice sounded more urgent, way more scared when Wooyoung didn’t even moved at the sound of your voice and seeing he didn’t even react to being called out a second time, you reached down to take off your seatbelt, giving you more freedom to move even though the pain in your body didn’t allow you to do too many things.

You ignored the sticky feeling of your clothes, how sweat and blood were making them stick to your skin like glue and decided to focus on bringing Wooyoung back to consciousness. You could see your clothes were broken in some places, there were hints of wounds you could feel and see but decided to act as if they weren’t there. You weren’t the most important thing right now, Wooyoung was.

The smoke that was passing through the inside of the car made you cough a couple of times, making your body tense up in pain when you did. You could only hope there was nothing broken and that your wounds were merely superficial.

“Wooyoung, hey”

Reaching out, you gently placed one of your hands on his shoulders and pushed him back slowly, until his back was against his seat and his head far away from the steering wheel. There was blood running down his face, a wound in his head signaling he might have a concussion but his chest was still moving up and down with each breath he took and that slowed down the pounding of your heart.

His entire face scrunched up when you forced him to move and probably your constant calling was also helping, he didn’t seem too happy about your decision to force him back to consciousness, in fact, Wooyoung was probably more comfortable with his eyes closed refusing to acknowledge what was happening, dangerously roaming closer to death instead of life but the adrenaline running through your veins was enough for you to keep pushing him back to life.

You were not one to give up easily.

“(Y/N)?” He asked quietly, still refusing to open his eyes but letting you know he was awakening. You kept your hand on his shoulder, not letting go of his body completely in case he passed out again, the last thing he needed was to get hit on his head another time.

“Yeah! There’s a girl in the car too”

The sound of an unfamiliar voice made you momentarily forget about Wooyoung, it also brought back the faint memories you had from before the accident. The two of you talking comfortably in the car, stopping at a red light, being the only car around since it was really late and then….Then a car crashed into yours. The accident hadn’t been unexpected, the other driver had known what he was doing and he hadn’t had any hesitation before ramming into them from Wooyoung’s side.

This had all been intentional.

Your vision, that now seemed to be a bit more clear, moved to the windshield. There were two males in front of you, standing nearby the car that, by the way it looked, seemed to be the one that caused the crash. The both of them seemed fine, standing perfectly straight as they talked on the phone with someone with their backs to you. They probably thought you were either unconsciously still or dead at this point, there was no reason for them to keep their eyes on you because, even if you tried to run away, you wouldn’t get too far.

“Wooyoung” You called out to him again, voice giving away the amount of tension that overflowed the adrenaline you had been feeling, heart picking up the speed of its beating once again “We need to get out of here” He groaned besides you, telling you that he was listening, that he agreed with you but didn’t have the strength to get moving yet “Now”

“Yes, she’s the girl in the picture”

Those words confirmed there was somebody after you, you didn’t have to think much to get to the conclusion this was either Jaehyun or Seonghwa, probably the two of them were after this, which made the situation even worse at this point.

“Do you have a weapon? Anything we can use to defend ourselves?” You asked tense, looking at Wooyoung for a few seconds before forcing your eyes back to the two figures in front of you, not wanting to let them out of your sight.

“What are you talking about?” Wooyoung asked even more frustrated, finally opening his eyes to look at you.

A wave of dizziness made you close your eyes for a few seconds but instead of panicking even more, you simply pinched the bridge of your nose and took a couple of deep breaths, inhaling as much as you could before exhaling it out slowly. There wasn’t too much time left and someone would call you stupid for doing this but good ideas never come when you’re stressed or under too much pressured, you needed to calm down first.

“(Y/N)?”

Your head turned towards Wooyoung, his eyes on the windshield as he now looked at the two guys that were still talking about something, paying zero attention to the two of you. They weren’t in a rush, nobody was coming to help anyways. Wooyoung brought a finger up to his lips, signaling you to keep your voice low before he dragged his eyes back to your face, the seriousness in his look sending chills down your spine.

“Get your phone, see if it works and call Hongjoong” He whispered, seeing the confusion in your face but interrupting you to keep talking before you even had the chance to ask about it “We need help, just tell him to come and get us out of here”

Nodding, you started patting your bloody clothes, looking around the mess the car had turned into as Wooyoung started looking for something as well, you didn’t know what it was exactly but your best guess was that he had a weapon hidden somewhere, one that he would be using to defend the two of you. You almost cried in relief when you found your phone on the ground, right besides your left feet and crouched down to get it, not even caring about the stinging sensation you felt when some of the glass that belonged to the screen scratched your hand.

It was a miracle the phone was still working, most of the screen had turned black but it was still visible enough for you to dial Hongjoong’s number. It only took him a couple of rings to pick up.

“(Y/N)?” He didn’t sound sleepy, Hongjoong was either up to something or still working on the plan to get Jongho out with the guys “Is everything okay?” Concerned dripped from his voice, this was not an ordinary time to call somebody, bad news were mostly delivered late at night and you both knew this.

“Someone is after Wooyoung and I'' There was no point in beating around the bush, you needed the guys to get the two out of this situation before it was too late.

“Where are you guys?” Hongjoong seemed to understand the seriousness of the situation and decided to ignore all the questions he felt like asking to focus on the most important ones.

“I don’t know” You replied honestly, panicking a little when your eyes landed on the gun that Wooyoung was now holding “We were getting out of work, Wooyoung offered to drive me and we had a car accident...It all happened too fast, I don’t know where we are”

Although that would make things even harder for Hongjoong, he didn’t show it and instead signaled for the guys to start getting ready to leave “We’ll be there in five minutes, hold on there”

“Hey! Who the fuck are you calling!?” Your eyes opened wide when the strangers’ attention were now on you, Wooyoung’s hand keeping his gun hidden when both of them started approaching the car at a speed that was pretty much disliked. Your time had run out, now you could only hope Hongjoong would get there fast.

“Wooyoung?” Your voice, impatient and full of fear, made his body tensed up. He also knew this situation didn’t look good for the two of you but there was not much he could do at the moment “What do we do?”

“There’s two of them” Wooyoung pointed out as his eyes scanned the area trying to see if someone else had come with them, it wouldn’t make sense though, two people should have been enough for taking someone out “(Y/N) listen to me” His eyes never moved away from the two figures approaching, his lips moving as little as possible so they wouldn’t be able to read them and guess what he was planning to do “We’re going to get out of this car and try to buy some time, alright? They’re probably armed, way more than us so we’ll try to keep our distance once their guns are gone” You nodded at his words, legs slightly shaking as you tried to get a grip on yourself “Stay behind me, do not give them a clear shot, you hear me?”

“Hey!” One of them shouted again, a few steps away from the car.

“No matter what, stay behind me” Wooyoung warned one last time before he pulled his gun up, aiming at them through the windshield and making them stop abruptly. “Hands where I can see them, Im not fucking around” His voice had shifted to a dangerous one, a lingering threat in his words that made your friend totally unrecognizable, this was a side of him you’ve never seen before.

The men in front of you looked at each other, their hands midway to the back of their jeans where their weapons were probably being kept. You honestly didn’t know what the plan was or what Wooyoung wanted to do but you stayed quiet and decided to keep an eye on them as well.

“You're outnumbered here buddy, don’t make the situation worse than it is for you guys” One of them warned, eyes following Wooyoung as he pushed the door of his car opened without moving his aim on one of them. “Tell your boyfriend to put that gun down” He said, his cold eyes meeting yours.

You tensed under his gaze, unable to hide it and giving him more confidence than the necessary, he knew you were hesitating about this entire thing “You, eyes on me, forget about her” Wooyoung said coldly, standing outside of the car, behind the door “(Y/N) come here, crawl over the driver seat and stand behind me”

You looked at him for a second but Wooyoung was too focused on keeping his aim on both guys to return it. Careful and wincing at the pain you felt every time you moved, you started leaving the passenger seat to crawl into the driver one, right before managing to get out of the damaged car without stumbling in the process. Wooyoung was quick to hide your body behind his immediately, only letting you look over his shoulder.

“You were sent to get me, not her” Wooyoung broke the silence between the four of you, one of his hands reaching back to grab one of yours, holding it ever so gently that it almost made you broke into a thousand tears right there. “We can negotiate something if you let her go”

One of the guys smirked and shook his head, you could understand his amusement though since the two of you weren’t exactly in the dominating role to ask about a negotiation. You should be the ones listening to them, not ordering them around “Sorry dude but apparently she pissed them off too….You know the consequences of that” He shrugged as if he was actually apologizing, your stomach turned, sending a wave of bilis up your throat. You somehow managed to not throw up.

“She didn’t” Wooyoung insisted, holding the weapon tight, letting your hand go to get a steady aim as he kept switching it between both guys “I won’t resist, just let her get out of this”

Something fired up inside one of the guys, you saw it in his eyes, how he could just not believe the audacity Wooyoung was having “You’re right” He suddenly said, looking at the two of you as he took a step closer to his friend “We’ll kill you first and then, we’ll have her all for ourselves to use and enjoy before-”

He didn’t have time to finish his sentence, Wooyoung’s fingers pulled the trigger.

A quiet yelped exited your body as you unconsciously reached out and gripped the back of his shirt, the man that had been shot fell down onto the floor and by the sounds he was letting out you could tell he was still alive but not for longer. A trail of swearings exited the other guy’s mouth but Wooyoung didn’t even let you catch a glimpse since he pulled the two of you down, letting the car door cover both of your bodies.

“Run when I tell you to” Wooyoung informed, chest moving up and down too fast, in sync with yours as adrenaline kept being pumped through your body. “Don’t look back just keep running until you find somewhere to hide, do not come out until Hongjoong shows up, you hear me?”

You opened your mouth to say something but another shot broke what was left of the driver’s window after the accident, Wooyoung had obviously pissed these guys off way too much to attempt the negotiation strategy one more time.

“But-”

“I’ll cover you just run (Y/N)” He interrupted you, looking over the edge of the door for a few seconds before he shot again. “You need to get out of here, alright? For Jongho?” The name of your soon to be husband squeezed your heart, he would be destroyed if you ended up dying here, you knew he would blame himself and carry the guilt forever.

But were you able to just abandon Wooyoung like that?

“Hongjoong will be here soon” You whispered, refusing to move from where you were, everything in your body screaming to run away like he was telling you except your heart, who refused to leave him alone. “We’ll get out of this one”

“God fucking danmit (Y/N)!” He screamed frustrated, knowing you wouldn’t be going anywhere without him, swearing even more when another bullet almost hit his shoulder, scraping his clothes but miraculously not even touching his skin.

Another bullet created a whole in the metallic barrier the car door had turned into, your cover wouldn’t last much longer and it would leave you and Wooyoung totally defenseless against someone who seemed determined to get rid of the two of you.

“Hide behind the car, crawl your way there, I’ll cover you” Wooyoung instructed and knowing he wouldn’t take a no for an answer, you placed your entire body against the raspy pavement, feeling how it scratched your skin as you kept crawling, hearing the bullets fly above you. Pain was the least of your worries now, getting out of this alive was more important.

The low sound of a car engine approaching made your heart beat faster, it was either Hongjoong or reinforcements to make sure you wouldn’t live to tell someone about this. “Someone’s coming” You told Wooyoung, crouching behind the car, watching him crawl towards you as well.

“Hongjoong?” He asked you breathless, the sweat appearing in his forehead making the dry blood in his skin roll down his face to his neck, an image that was scary and worrying, something you would never be able to forget.

“I don’t know”

“I just have two bullets left” Wooyoung announced, looking down at his gun before he loaded it once again, getting ready to stand up and aim at your opponent.

It was kill or be killed, there was no other choice in this situation.

San, who had been stepping on the gas pedal since they had all gotten in the car, was quick to slow down once they started approaching the location where the GPS that belonged to your phone said you were. A silence that only meant tension and worry filled the car as they all mentally prayed for you to be alright, there was no one moment one of them hadn’t blamed themselves for not seeing something like this coming.

They should have known they would attack as soon as they realized they were going down, they should have known better.

With the lights turned off, San stopped the car somewhere he thought they wouldn’t be seen and quickly got out along with his friends, gun in hand, eyes scanning the area in case there were any surprises left for them. You never know what to expect in this kind of situation, this could either go incredibly well or terribly wrong.

“There they are” Hongjoong whispered, seeing the two of you crouching behind what used to be Wooyoung’s car. His body was still covering yours, protecting you even when he knew he could die anytime.

San had never liked cops but he had to admit Wooyoung’s devotion for your well-being and happiness despite knowing all your feelings belonged to his friend, were truly admirable.

“Can you see where the guy is?” Yunho asked, looking at the rest of them, eyes frantically searching for another person, willing to just get rid of him and get his friend’s girlfriend out of this nightmare alive. He knew Jongho would be totally inconsolable if you died like this, there was no doubt he would blame himself forever.

“He’s covered up as well, we need to be careful, he could be anywhere” Hongjoong warned, dying to get you and Wooyoung out of there but not willing to risk more lives than necessary, they wouldn’t do any good if they ended up getting shot or dying while trying to save the two of you “Wait for him to get out first”

“Hongjoong is here” Hope filled your voice when you saw San’s body running to hide somewhere, probably willing to take some cover and assured their positions so they could get you out of there safely. “Wooyoung, they’re here” You repeated, looking up at your friend’s concerned face.

“I can’t see him, he’s not coming out” He muttered, not really listening to what you were saying as he kept poking his head out of your hiding spot, trying to see where the guy had gone too. “I just need a clear shot and we’ll be out of here in seconds”

You looked back at where the guys should have been, only meeting Yunho’s eyes, finding him hiding behind some dumpsters. It was surely not a pleasant place to hide and you could imagine him whining about it later but he was safe at least. When he saw he got your attention, Yunho started motioning you to call Wooyoung. They had a plan, they were getting the two of you out of here.

“Wooyoung, Yunho wants to tell us something” Crouching back down, Wooyoung turned and followed your gaze until his eyes landed back on Yunho. A frown appeared in his face though when the male only told your friend to stand up. “I think...He wants you to stand up?” You asked hesitant, not knowing if he was seriously messing around the two of you in this kind of situation.

“Do you trust them?” Wooyoung asked quietly, looking at you once he got Yunho’s orders.

“Huh?” You asked confused, not really expecting that question.

“Do you trust them?” He repeated his question, staring right into your eyes.

“I do”

You didn’t even have time to say anything else, you could only reach out and grip the cloth of the ripped jeans he was wearing when he suddenly stood up, aiming with his gun at a random point, risking his life just like Yunho had told him to do. When the sound of a gunshot echoed in the night, you closed your eyes out of instinct, gripping Wooyoung’s clothes even tighter as if that would move him back down fast enough to dodge the bullet.

A few seconds passed in absolute silence before you finally dared to open your eyes and take a peek, determined to know what had happened. The first thing you saw was that Wooyoung was still standing, eyes down on you, looking way less tense than before. Your eyes were quick to scan his body and when you didn’t see any additional blood or wounds, you could only stand up and throw yourself at him, arms quickly engulfing his body in a big hug.

Wooyoung’s body instantly relaxed as soon as you were against him, a quiet groan leaving his lips at the impact of your body but instead of pushing you again, he only hugged you even tighter, instantly digging his face into your neck as relief washed over him. He had truly thought today was the day he would die, he had been ready to put your life before his but fortunately, help got there before something bad could happen.

“Guys!” Hongjoong was the first one that got out of his hiding spot, a concerned look on his eyes as he looked at Wooyoung and then at you, taking his time to scan your body in search of any worrying wounds that should be taken care of immediately. “How many guys were there?” He asked, still scanning the place, not feeling like celebrating their victory yet.

“Two” Wooyoung exclaimed, looking at them.

By the look on his face you knew there was something wrong.

Everything happened too fast. “GET DOWN, GET DOWN, GET DOWN!” San screamed repeatedly. But it was too late.

You first heard the sound of a gunshot, one you had started getting familiar with, then you saw the pain in Wooyoung’s eyes when the bullet went through his body, piercing his skin and finally, you felt the unfamiliar pain of a bullet entering your body.

More shots echoed in the night, you could even hear the faint sound of some police sirens approaching. Somebody had probably realized what was going on and decided to warn the authorities about it.

Wooyoung called your name as you fell onto the floor, feeling a warm liquid soaking your already dirty clothes.

You heard Wooyoung calling your name even louder when your eyes started closing.

“Mingi help me out!” Was the last thing you heard Wooyoung’s shouting before you drifted into unconsciousness once again.

Taglist: @guess--monster​ @cometoceantrenches​ @miatsubaki23​ @lovelyvitamin​ @heroesfan101​ @daintysan​ @t-tbinnie​ @shyshybabyy​ @little-precious-baby​ @bebetiny​ @mirror-juliet​ @btrombley13​ @yukine-smx​ @wavetease @naphthalene-ball​

Sooo....Wooyoung was supposed to die in this chapter but in the last second I regretted it and made him survive 😂 That's why I took so long...Please forgive me T-T

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 05 (first part)

(Masterpost) (previous episode) (this episode, second part)

Warning: Spoilers for all 50 episodes of the Untamed

The Pride of Yunmeng 

Waterfall Date

Lan Wangji gets to experience the two extremes of Wei Wuxian’s interpersonal skills within the span of a few seconds. This is even better than his rooftop date with this horrible annoying terribly, terribly attractive boy.

Lan Wangji has come here on a mission to make Wei Wuxian do his homework, which is why he immediately tells him “let’s go to the library” gazes at him silently for several seconds...

...and then lets him adjust his sleeve for him and step allll the way into his personal space. 

Unfortunately Wei Wuxian is about to guess a Lan Clan secret, so Lan Wangji ends the conversation by saying “let’s go to the library” grabbing him by his sexy arm muscle and dragging him off. Did he hold his arm all the way to the library? Even if he didn’t, his “I don’t touch other people” later at the lake is clearly horseshit. I don’t touch other people unless they are named Wei Wuxian and our brothers aren’t watching. 

(more after the cut!)

Apology in the Library

Wei Wuxian splits his library time between actually doing his homework and trying to make friends with Lan Wangji. And he tries really, really hard, starting by sincerely complimenting LWJ’s calligraphy and offering a pretty okay apology for his prior rooftop antics. Lan Wangji tells him to put his leg down but doesn’t tell him to go sit at his own desk. 

Lan Wangji exhibits steely self-control as he resists this look, which would cause anyone else’s robes to spontaneously un-weave themselves into a pile of threads.

When Lan Wangji won’t look at him because he feels his apology was not sincere, Wei Wuxian becomes much more formally apologetic. First he says “sorry” two more times, and he starts prepping Lan Wangji’s ink.  This involves grinding an ink stick against an ink stone with water, to make a pool of ink for the calligrapher to dip their brush into.

This is not Wei Wuxian being annoying and messing with stuff on Lan Wangji’s desk, a la Zhou Yunlan (Guardian). This is an act of service; a genuinely helpful thing to do if you know how to do it properly --which all of these young scholars definitely do--and an action that casts Wei Wuxian in the role of a servant or junior. 

Then Wei Wuxian offers to kneel down (to offer a major formal apology), while giggling like an adorable dumbass. It's unclear if this is sexual innuendo, just being ridiculously unconcerned about dignity, being slightly into abasing himself for this beautiful person, or all of the above. 

After taking a long moment to consider all this, Lan Wangji slowly and deliberately gives Wei Wuxian three seconds of the eye contact he’s been begging for.

Then Lan Wangji spoils the moment by dropping a silence spell on him. 

Wen Can I Have Some Fun?

The Wen siblings hang out and talk about their secret villainy and then fret about how much it sucks to have a chronic health condition, which is pretty relatable TBH.

I know life seems boring now but just wait until you’re an itinerant zombie with nails in your head.

Wen Qing is a devoted older sister just like Jiang Yanli, although with less fainting and more scheming. 

Good kitty.

Porno in the Library

Now, since this next scene ends with Wei Wuxian being a boundary-crossing jerk, let's start by remembering that Lan Wangji has magically gagged Wei Wuxian against his will three times now, as well as hiding his vulnerable family member behind a ward while lying in wait in order to attack him. So, you know. Teenagers in lust. They are both learning what is and isn't okay.  

Lan Wangji steals a long glance at Wei Wuxian while Wei Wuxian is drawing. 

Wei Wuxian is putting the finishing touches on a gift for Lan Wangji. The gift is a portrait of Lan Wangji with flowers in his hair. This boy is SMITTEN. I think he knows it, too; he just doesn’t think it’s a big deal yet. 

Wei Wuxian, who is good at everything, is really fucking good at drawing. 

When Wei Wuxian presents the drawing to Lan Wangji he says “this is my gift for you.”  This is very good-mannered of Wei Wuxian; Lan Wangji had to supervise him for three days, so he is presenting him with a gift to thank him and say farewell.

Lan Wangji completely ignores him, which is really breathtaking, next-level rudeness.

Wei Wuxian isn’t bothered by this, however, and just embellishes the picture with an extra flower or something before offering it again. This time Lan Wangji takes in and is very very very pleased with it, as evidenced by his slightly widening his eyes and how carefully he places the drawing on the far side of his desk.  

Also he gives Wei Wuxian some prolonged eye contact, and engages in what, for him, is playful banter, calling the gift “extremely boring” when Wei Wuxian prompts him to use more words than usual. 

Then Wei Wuxian spoils the moment by pranking him.

Now - let’s look at this erotic-book situation. This is a boundary-crossing prank, yes, but it’s also an invitation to engage in some form of intimacy. For teens who have access to erotic images, looking at them together can be simple naughty fun. Or it can be a way of discovering and bonding over shared sexual identities and interest. Or it can prompt more direct engagement, up to and including having sex with each other.

Lan Wangji’s horrified reaction means that Wei Wuxian has to characterize this as a prank after the fact, but he might very well have intended it as an invitation to get horny together. 

Either way, his response to Lan Wangji’s “shameless” comment is bound to make an impression.

Wei Wuxian is from the clan of "be free" and he just doesn't see why this is a big deal. And now he’s told Lan Wangji it doesn’t have to be a big deal. And through him, the producers are breaking the fourth wall and telling every viewer that this doesn’t have to be a big deal and that they shouldn’t feel ashamed. 

Threats and rudeness and book destruction ensue, and Lan Wangji is left alone in all kinds of emotional disarray, with a bunch of torn up erotica to tape back together throw away.

Boys on the Rocks

Wei Wuxian brags about his prank to Jiang Cheng and bestie Nie Huaisang, telling them that he got Lan Wangji to cuss at him. He’s going to put a notch on his sword handle for this achievement.  

Jiang Cheng is pissed at Wei Wuxian about this, like he’s pissed at him about everything all the time. Possibly he has already started the seedlings of his lifelong jealousy of Lan Wangji.  

Jiang Cheng doesn’t realize that he’s essentially prepared Wei Wuxian to court Lan Wangji by constantly criticizing, hitting, and threatening him. After a decade of Jiang Cheng’s rough style of brotherhood, Lan Wangji’s elegant and refined hostility rolls off of Wei Wuxian like water off a duck’s back. 

Nie Huaisang wants to make sure Wei Wuxian didn't rat him out, but isn't worried about the destroyed book because he has a whole external drive full of porn. 

Several Brain Cells Trio

These guys do make some questionable choices together, but actually they are all really bright and effective in complimentary ways.

Jiang Cheng is growing into a strong future leader - authoritarian and dickish, yes, but also decisive and unflinching. Wei Wuxian is observant of things around him, always ready for combat, and thinks deeply and strategically about events.  Nie Huaisang is a bottomless font of knowledge, sourced from books and from his own observations. 

So when the Wen spy bird shows up, they spot it, drive it away, identify what it is, and understand that it’s a threat and that its presence has political implications.  

They are all goofballs at times, but highly gifted ones.

Doo Doo Doo Lookin Out My Back Ward

Lan Xichen asks Lan Wangji if he’s found out who was sneaking around his the back ward and Lan Wangji hesitates before reluctantly saying “Wei Ying.” 

Ok seriously - nobody calls him Wei Ying. Nobody refers to him in the third person as as Wei Ying. Calling him Wei Gongzi or Wei Wuxian would be totally normal. His own brother calls him Wei Wuxian. And Lan Wangji has only called him Wei Ying to his face when he was angry. 

But now--immediately after the erotica debacle in the library--he is Wei Ying when Lan Wangji is speaking of him privately with his brother. 

By the way, Lan Wangji's shoulders seem super wide in these robes, don't they? I'm not complaining.

Forgettable Disciple #1

Now we meet apparent nobody Su She, who sucks. He wants to take care of the water ghosts himself. 

He is a no-headband disciple which is like - none of the juniors in the later timeframe go without a headband. The guys who got set on fire at the gate had headbands. One of the Lan Rules is “wear a headband.” Is there anyone else who doesn't rate a headband? This is a plot point later when it comes to the ice cave but for now it just seems that he's that one perpetual intern who never gets promoted and never learned embroidery.

Doctor Qing, Medicine Woman

[OP laughed way too hard at her own joke just now.] Wen Qing is helping Jiang Yanli, and Jiang Cheng is super happy to see her. When did he develop this crush? Because it's already in full swing. 

Did Wei Wuxian just sneer when he noticed Jiang Cheng’s crush? Like macking on Lan Wangji is more appropriate than this? 

I love you and I’m going to advocate killing everyone who matters to you

I’m a nosy jerk and I’m going to be your best friend for life, quite literally

Wei Wuxian complains about Wen Qing ignoring him and she gives him the prettiest, loveliest *sigh* death glare ever.

However when she sees that he's a little brother whose sister utterly dotes on him, she starts thinking maybe he's all right. 

For the Yanli-Qing shippers, there is a tiny breadcrumb here, where Yanli says they met by the river bank.  I don't personally ship my personal girlfriend Wen Qing with Jiang Yanli, but I support your ships wherever they may sail.

Continued in Part 2, right here