#anyway this is just me paying a little homage to one of my favorite Ao3 tags: Hurt & comfort

[marmastry]

Agent 3s

[pascaloverx]

Forbidden Romance

Summary: You are in love with Prince Thor. He will soon be King and is hosting a ball between Kingdoms so he can find his future bride. Unfortunately, the Kingdom of Asgard is not ready to accept the Chief of the Royal Guard as the new Queen.

Warnings: inappropriate language, use of violence and adult content in the future of fanfic. some characters belong to the Marvel universe and others were created by the author.

AO3 link chapter two

Chapter One

A calm morning awaits you as you don your attire of the Kingsguard. The duty calls to you. Guarding the safety of the great son of Asgard is an honor. The challenge is to leave your personal feelings aside. Damn was the moment you fell in love...

"Are you sure it won't be strange for you escorting your little boyfriend to a ball designed for him to find a future wife?" Loki quips as he strides into your room without any ceremony. You brandish your sword at the level of the rejected Prince Loki.

"It's conversations like these that make me know I should hit you every time you come to my room." You speak while holding the sword tightly. Loki walks away, smiling a little too much for those who seem afraid of you.

"I came in peace. Thor asked you to stop by his room before leaving to give instructions to the Kingsguard." Loki says, laying down under his bed and swinging his feet playfully. You roll your eyes reproaching him but I understand that it's good that he's helping you and Thor.

"You know if you tell anyone about this, I'll rip your tongue out of your head, right?" You say it knowing that he'll probably enjoy you hurting him but that he would feel humiliated for being hurt by a commoner like you.

"And miss the chance to watch you two fucking everything up when my precious father notices that his favorite son is the one who will bring ruin to his kingdom." Hearing these words coming out of Loki's mouth makes everything even more real. If you and Thor are caught, you will be sentenced to death. And he will be king anyway.

"Tell your brother, I'll see him at the opening ceremony to welcome the leaders of each kingdom and their children." You say finishing and getting ready to go. But to your surprise, before you could leave your room, Thor was waiting for you. Accompanied, obviously, by the guard responsible for his security. You straighten up and bow, paying homage to the future king.

"Lynox, you may withdraw. The chief of the Kingsguard and I have a private matter to discuss." Thor says, looking at you. He scans you from top to bottom, as if he could undress you with just one look. You would like to live in a world where you could reciprocate with him. But we're not in that world.

"With all due respect, Your Highness, Lynox can witness our conversation. After all, as the second-in-command of the Kingsguard, he should be informed about matters concerning your security." You say, looking seriously at Thor and Lynox, who is unsure whether to leave or stay to listen to the conversation.

"Lynox." Thor says, and that's all it takes for Lynox to leave us alone. In the kingdom, Thor's word is only second to that of his parents. Soon, you and he are staring at each other.

"Are you proud? Your word holds more weight than mine in every corner of the kingdom. Want to test that with someone else? Your brother is in my room right now. Want to try to get him out with just a command, Your Highness?" You're upset because when you and Thor started to see each other as more than just royal guard and royalty, he promised he wouldn't walk over you.

"Dove…" He speaks so softly. His eyes watch you as his arms draw near. Thor then pulls you close to him, embracing you tightly.

"You enjoy doing things that put both my position in the Royal Guard and my life at risk. And I'm a fool for accepting it without a fight." You say, lifting your face as Thor looks down to meet your gaze. As you lock eyes, you slowly lean in towards the future king's face, being kissed by him shortly after.

"I'll talk to my father. Try to delay having to choose a wife. Or you could…" He begins, but you already step back, knowing what he's going to suggest.

"Become your mistress?" — you are revolted by the possibility of becoming the King's mistress— "To be the woman who sleeps with the King when he's not with the Queen?" Thor looks regretful about what he was about to say. You, however, look at him determinedly.

"You will never be a mere mistress to me. We could have a family together while the queen and I can have a semblance of a wedding." You laughed at Thor's foolishness. In fact, you were even afraid that Asgard was in the hands of a foolish prince.

"My love...shut up before anyone can hear all this nonsense. I'd rather die in battle than be the woman you cheat on your wife with." You say leaving disappointed with reality. This reality makes you know that you will always be just that for Thor. A head of the Kingsguard or a mistress.

You are a little shaken when you hear a noise and go after it to find out what is happening. A man dressed as royalty stands in the middle of the kingdom's trophy room. He is not known to you, you find his presence strange but you know you need to be polite when questioning him.

"This room has restricted entry. Only Asgardian Royalty can enter here. How did you manage to get past the Royal Guard?" You question using the most serious tone of voice possible. You hold tight to the tip of your sword that is attached to your waist. The man looks at you as if enchanted.

"I think the Royal Guard is busy preparing for the arrival of great royal representatives from the main kingdoms allied to Asgard. Are you usually so straight-faced with everyone?"He asks turning towards you.

"One more step and I will be forced to attack you. Tell me who are you?" You ask, almost wielding your sword, as a way of threatening the man in front of you.

"I hope you can explain to the King how you treat visitors. But since you insist on knowing, I am Steve. Son of King Tristan, future King of Kyrax." He speaks with such petulant calm. It's like he knew you would regret being hostile towards him.

"Your Highness could have told me you were a prince from the beginning. I hope you know that my approach was just security protocol. I will leave you alone." You speak cordially, trying not to show how embarrassed you are.

"However, I prefer your company. " He says as he watches you walk away. You turn around almost abruptly, confused by his revelation.

"I don't know how things are in your kingdom, Your Highness, but here commoners and royalty don't usually keep each other company unless it's essential." You speak keeping a safe distance between you and Prince Steve. Something useless since he doesn't know personal space and quickly got too close to you

"The Commander of the Royal Guard is right, Believe me, she avoids spending time alone even with me if it's not necessary." Thor says, entering the trophy room and staying close, but in a professional manner. The tension between the two is palpable and you mentally prepare yourself for what's to come.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Fire and Light (ao3) - on tumblr: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

- Chapter 5 -

“Wen Chao is missing again,” Wen Ning said, and reached a hand up so that he could bite his nails.  

Nie Mingjue caught his hand and brought it back down again. “Missing again? What do you mean?”

“He’s been going missing,” Wen Ning explained. “Right before classes, or training, or – or dinner. We make excuses or find him before it becomes a problem, but he’s getting better at hiding. And eventually…”

Eventually, one of the teachers would tell Wen Ruohan.

Or worse, Wen Chao would miss a dinner, and it would be one of the dinners Wen Ruohan attended. The consequences of that would be unthinkable.

“Has he explained the reason?” Nie Mingjue asked, frowning when Wen Ning shook his head. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

Wen Ning gave him a look that suggested that the broken bones might have something to do with it. Even though there was only one that actually broke.

“I’ll go talk to him.”

“We don’t even know where he is.”

Nie Mingjue did not let that stop him. He was mostly able to walk by now, anyway, and it didn’t take long for him to track Wen Chao down to one of his favorite places to go hide – one of the unused rooms in the family quarters, so long abandoned that there was dust over every surface. There were women’s things scattered all over the place, and Nie Mingjue suspected that the room had once belonged to Wen Chao’s mother.

“A-Chao?” he called, his voice low.

There was a strangled sob, and Wen Chao appeared from behind the bed, his eyes red. “You shouldn’t be out of bed,” he scolded. “What are you doing here? Go back, go back.”

“A-Chao, why have you been hiding away?” Nie Mingjue asked, sitting down on the bed instead. “You haven’t even come to visit me.”

Wen Chao’s lower lip trembled. He was only a little boy, in the end – only ten years old. “I don’t want you to get hurt anymore.”

“What’s me getting hurt have to do with you?” Nie Mingjue said, puzzled as always. How did these Qishan Wen people think, with loops and layers and circles turning in on themselves? “You didn’t do it.”

“I’m stupid,” Wen Chao said. His voice was small and pained. “If I’d been smart enough to play along, pretend you were talking about someone else, the way Huaisang-xiong and A-Qing did…”

“The only one to blame for me saying stupid things is myself,” NIe Mingjue said firmly. “And the only person to blame for hurting me for saying them is Sect Leader Wen. And I wouldn’t have thought to come up with a cover story, either – are you saying I’m stupid?”

Wen Chao sniffed. “Maybe a little.”

“You’re probably right,” Nie Mingjue acknowledged, and patted the bed next to him. Wen Chao flung himself forward, curling up into Nie Mingjue’s arms as if he’d been missing them – he probably had been, too, the little fool. “But neither of us are going to get less stupid if we keep missing classes. So let’s try not to, okay?”

“Okay,” Wen Chao said, and rubbed his head against Nie Mingjue’s chest. “Nie-ge?”

“Mm?”

“I wish you were my big brother instead of Huaisang-xiong’s.”

Nie Mingjue fought a smile. “I appreciate that,” he said. “Have you considered the possibility of me being a big brother to both of you? It’s not necessarily one or the other.”

Wen Chao’s arms tightened around him. “Maybe I want you to myself.”

“Maybe you need to learn to share.”

Wen Chao snickered. A little wetly, but still.

-

Wen Xu and Wen Chao had the misfortune of being born relatively close together in the year. That meant that there was always a single party, nominally held in their honor, that invariably turned into a political event, with all the subsidiary sects flocking to the Nightless City to pay their respects to Wen Ruohan. The sect leaders brought their children along, particularly if they had one around Wen Chao’s age, but that was just a cover; their presence was a homage to the dominant power to which they paid allegiance, the party in no way about either of the two heirs, and that was just as Wen Ruohan liked it.  

The other Great Sects usually sent gifts but did not attend – Nie Mingjue certainly had never gone – but this year the Lan sect broke custom and sent a delegation, with the stated purpose of presenting Wen Chao with an invitation to go take classes at the Cloud Recesses in view of his exceptional performance at the discussion conference.

“Exceptional performance,” Nie Mingjue mouthed at Wen Chao, who turned bright red.

The invitation was in fact issued, but it was probably more accurate to surmise that what the Lan sect really wanted was to get another look at the two Nie heirs and assure themselves of their continued health. Still, Nie Mingjue thought he had a good enough read on Lan Qiren’s personality to conclude that his old teacher wouldn’t affirmatively invite someone he didn’t think had potential, not even for ulterior motives. His reputation as a teacher of any type of student was famous throughout the cultivation world, and being invited to his lectures – as opposed to sending your children there on the basis of a political arrangement, as many sects did – was considered to be a great honor. Even Nie Mingjue had attended on the strength of his family, not himself.

As a result, the invitation was a compliment, and Wen Ruohan liked compliments. The Lan sect delegates were of course invited to stay at the party, and the visiting child – Lan Wangji, who at a year older than Nie Huaisang was a year younger than Wen Chao and thereby a more reasonable a guest to send than Lan Xichen would have been – was sent to mill around with them.

He looked miserable.

Nie Mingjue couldn’t really blame him, especially given how Lan Xichen had once spoken to him at length about how little Lan Wangji liked parties like this. Unable to watch his suffering, he asked Nie Huaisang in an undertone to go distract him a little, maybe find him a quiet place to stay.

After a while, Nie Huaisang returned to his side, Lan Wangji now in tow, and Nie Mingjue frowned at them. He hadn’t meant for Nie Huaisang to bring Lan Wangji here, since Nie Mingjue was supposed to be keeping his head down and avoiding people – Wen Ruohan hadn’t said anything explicit on the subject, but they all knew better than to risk embarrassing him in front of his guests – but he supposed there was nothing for it now.

“Lan Wangji,” he greeted, forgoing the usual intimacy of addressing him only by his courtesy name – he had done so when he was Lan Xichen’s friend, which he thought he still was, but just because Lan Xichen would overlook his current situation did not mean that others would, and Lan Wangji loved rules more than most. “You look well.”

It was a bit of a lie. Lan Wangji was ashen-faced, his fingers trembling a little even as he hid them in his sleeves. It seemed like a bit of an overreaction to the party, unless he suffered from a more severe form of social anxiety than Nie Mingjue had anticipated based on Lan Xichen’s descriptions.

“And you look terrible, da-ge,” Nie Huaisang said, his voice a little sharp, more poisonous than his normal cheerfulness. “You’re more colorful than a rainbow.”

Nie Mingjue’s bruises were indeed at that unfortunate stage, and there were enough on his face and hands that it was difficult to conceal them for very long, even with powder. There was a reason he’d gone out only briefly to greet people – acting as proof of life – before retiring to the back of the room.

“Yes, well,” he said, shaking his head and giving Nie Huaisang a stern look. He didn’t want to air out their business in front of guests. “How is your brother, Lan Wangji?”

“Well,” Lan Wangji said. His jaw was working, and Nie Mingjue wondered briefly if what he had thought was social anxiety was in fact barely suppressed rage. “Would you come to the Cloud Recesses as well, if we invited you?”

Nie Mingjue blinked at him, surprised out of his gloomy thoughts. “I’ve already attended one round of lectures, Wangji. You remember, surely? It was two summers back – was it three? – when I was thirteen, at any rate.”

“There are always new things to learn,” he said vaguely in return, and it was such a Lan Wangji thing to say – such a Lan thing to say – that Nie Mingjue barely managed to keep himself from cooing and calling him a good little cabbage. “Would you be allowed to come?”

“Probably not,” Nie Mingjue said regretfully. “But if you could take Huaisang when he’s old enough, it would be a good experience for him.”

Possibly not for Lan Qiren, given Nie Huaisang’s issues with memorization, but certainly good for Nie Huaisang.

“He doesn’t have many friends here,” he added. “It’s just A-Chao, A-Qing, and A-Ning…have you met the latter two? Huaisang, if you haven’t, you should introduce them.”

“I will,” Nie Huaisang said. “Da-ge, are you sure you can’t find a way to go?”

Nie Mingjue realized that his brother was trying to get him out of the Nightless City, likely in his own efforts to deal with what had happened to him. He sighed, reaching out to touch Nie Huaisang’s hair lightly. “I’m the heir of Qinghe Nie, Huaisang. He’s not going to let me go until he feels confident in controlling me.”

And that would not be soon, he didn’t say, but anyone looking at the marks on his face or the careful way he held himself could put that together easily enough.

Lan Wangji’s lips were pressed tightly together, but Nie Huaisang sighed, yielding to logic, and took him away again. Nie Mingjue returned to his corner, hoping that the shadows would help conceal his bruises, and sank into meditation, trying to not to fantasize about the world in which he could take that offer of help, well-meant as it was. A world where he could take Nie Huaisang and all the Wens – even Wen Xu, who was a nervous wreck underneath his apparent arrogance – away to the tranquil peace of the Cloud Recesses and never come back.

It wouldn’t help to think of that world. It wasn’t this one.

-

Wen Ruohan held court from his throne in the main hall and from a simple chair in the dining room, but he was equally terrifying in any location. His questions had only gotten harder as time passed, and everyone kept their heads down and answered to his satisfaction, even Nie Huaisang.

His questions were easier than everyone else’s, and after dinner ended Wen Ruohan touched Nie Huaisang’s hair and told him with a smile that he was a pretty but useless bird, a lovely ornament to their house, and that they couldn’t possibly do without him. The eyes of all the Wens slid straight to Nie Mingjue, each one filled with terror at his reaction, but Nie Mingjue for once held his tongue.

He hadn’t really expected Nie Huaisang to be able to leave, not this year. Perhaps next year this little interaction would be forgotten and they could try again.

(He wanted to break every one of Wen Ruohan’s fingers so that they never touched his brother ever again. He wanted to make it so that Wen Chao didn’t look wistfully envious even as he shivered in terror at the thought of his father’s attention, make it so that Wen Xu didn’t look dull and resigned in anticipation of endless pain, make it so that Wen Qing and Wen Ning didn’t look so close to tears. 

He wanted to be home in the Unclean Realm again before he forgot what it was like.)

Wen Ruohan smiled at him, probably reading his thoughts from his face. “Walk with me, Mingjue,” he said. It was not a request. “I would hear about how you are adjusting to life in Qishan.”

Nie Mingjue left frightened faces behind him, and held firm to the thought that it would be politically inconvenient for Wen Ruohan to kill him.

(The fact that he didn’t think he’d done anything to deserve it - this time, anyway - was irrelevant.)

Nie Huaisang found him later that night, sitting on the stone floor next to his bed unmoving, skin cold and clammy with shock, and there was a small and quiet but extremely frantic whirl of activity that resulted in everyone crowding into Wen Xu’s bedroom, it being the biggest, trying to warm him back up.

It was more or less one big swirl of noise and movement, and Nie Mingjue only briefly surfaced to catch a few snatches of conversation –

“– did he do to him? He was only gone a shichen or two –”

“– physically seems fine, but I don’t like what his vitals are doing. Maybe we should call the sect doctors –”

“– if we do that, he’ll find out we did that –”

“– better brother than you ever were!”

That last one sounded like Wen Chao, making trouble again, even though it really wasn’t Wen Xu’s fault that he’d fallen for Wen Ruohan’s divide-and-conquer tricks when he was even younger than Wen Chao was now. It was how he’d been raised, Qishan Wen style, and anyway he’d been doing so much better lately, actually paying attention and joining hands with the rest of them to resist and distract and care about each other.

Nie Mingjue wanted to say something like that, knew that he had to speak, that it was his responsibility, a duty voluntarily assumed in having taken the role of older sibling for all that he wasn’t actually the eldest, but all that came out of his mouth was a low whine, pathetic, and he remembered that right now he really just wanted to die.

“Don’t you dare say that! Don’t you dare –”

“– need to get his body temperature up. His golden core is exacerbating the effects of the shock –”

“– did you hear what he said –”

“– tear that motherfucker’s heart out –”

“– leave my grandmother out of this –”

“– not a real doctor! I’m just an apprentice, and I’m trying –”

“– how could you possibly say that?! Of course I care! Before him, nobody – nobody ever – listen, if I wasn’t nearly five years older than him, I’d be calling him da-ge right alongside the rest of you, okay? Shit, I have half a mind to do it anyway, and fuck anyone who thinks it strange –”

Nie Mingjue closed his eyes and sobbed.