#basically the prompt was 'i wished for all my friends to disappear then all my enemies disappeared'

[crows-in-sevens]

the old man

warns others

but the boy

had wished for —

and

now regrets

his power over it:

mourns

the change in

fate.

listen;

everyone.

(You can read it straight down, but the other way to read it is by reading the first line of the first stanza, then first line of the second stanza, then first of third, then second of fourth, then second of first, then second of second, then so on. Giving you:

The old man had wished for his power over it: fate. Warns others and mourns. Listen; but the boy now regrets the change in everyone.

)

I thought I was so clever haha

[erosiism]

OBLIVION | YANDERE CROWN PRINCE X M!READER

prompt: very lazy (oblivious) reader x yandere crown prince who basically does everything for him. reader is clueless about his friends disappearing around him, historical setting where MC is a pampered son of a noble family 

character(s): yandere crown prince, lazy!reader

warnings(s): mild violence, yandere themes. still considered rather fluffy and sfw

note(s): male reader, second person, present tense, as far as this goes this guy is too green to be really called a yandere lol. his possessive and violence tendencies are not to be glorified regardless, loose use of magic, not beta read 

Your biggest enemy is hard work, and your favorite hobby is sleeping. You can’t help it—you are spoiled, no doubt about that, and because you got lucky enough to be born into a prestigious family who dotes on you. Your social life is almost non-existent, but ever since you were young, your friend has stuck next to you. 

Your friend, who happens to be a crown prince.

People say he’s scary. You doubt that highly—is His Highness Cassian not the one who has brought you sweet treats from young? Is he not the one who littered your skin with tiny kisses because he likes showing affection? Is he not the one who allows you to laze around or nap? Rumors tend to be untrue, and you feel almost sorry towards the prince for having to deal with that.

(“I heard that if you mess with him, His Highness has the ability to kill! Haven’t you heard the disappearances lately?”)

You asked the crown prince questions regarding the rumors. All you got was a surprised, flippant reply: kill? That’s ridiculous, [Name]. I haven’t even mastered my mana skills yet.

So you don’t trust the rumors. It makes sense for people to be jealous, after all: he’s the crown prince. He has objectively good looks, and he’s an amalgamation of everything someone would covet: wealth, prestige, brilliance, and skill.

“You slept in class again?” A voice tears you out of your thoughts. You’re lounging on the bench in the school garden, and your legs are propped up on the sides. Your bag is thrown loosely to the ground. Inwardly you wish you had the physical capability to be agile enough to scale up a tree—because god, the place up there looked amazing—but unfortunately, you didn’t.

You face him. Cassia raises an eyebrow, and his fingers reach out gingerly to touch your cheek gently. You don’t recoil. It’s become normal.

“I can see words imprinted on your face. How long did you sleep? Or rather, how long was your class?”

It takes a few moments for you to process the prince’s words, before you squint your eyes. There’s a red smear on his cheek that seems hastily wiped off. It’s not too obvious, not to others, anyways, but you’re so used to Cassian's face looking normal that you immediately notice it.

“What’s that red thing on your face?” You ignore the question. You know that he can guess the answer.

“…Red thing?” Cassian immediately narrows his eyes, pausing. His fingers leave your face and go to his own. It looks like blood; which is odd, and definitely not possible.

“Is that…” you mull it over for a second. It can’t be blood. Or lipstick.

Cassian, though having received multiple marriage proposals, didn’t seem to be settling down any time soon. 

Strange, it doesn’t even seem like he likes women. So the only plausible thing is—

“—were you drinking tomato soup earlier?”

Cassian blinks his eyes, before a look of realization dawns on his face. And if you see correctly, there’s almost the tiniest hint of relief. Cassian’s lips tug up into a smile—he laughs, the prince laughs, the sound bright and mirthful and irrevocably fond. Your parents have teased you once about the prince nursing a crush on you. But this is how he has treated you for as long as you can remember.

“Tomato?”

“Looks like a tomato,” You furrow your eyebrows. “Hey, do they serve tomato soup in the academy? I really want tomato soup. It’s easy to drink, and…”

“I���ll get you some later,” Cassian says affectionately. He ruffles your hair, and you relax. “Don’t worry too much, alright?”

You shrug loosely. “Alright.”

.

.

[ before ]

He stares at the dead body on the ground. There aren’t a lot of rumors of you, but your laziness is well known. Some see it fondly, almost endearingly, but there are the rare few who view you with disdain because of your apparent lack of diligence.

Caspian doesn’t like that. He’s fine with rumors of his own—but of you? But of sweet, innocent, lovely you? He loathes it.

“Stop talking,” he smiles. “…You can do that, can’t you? After all, you’re already dead.”

A head lolls about and blood drips off a blade.

What, Cassian thinks with that sweet softness he has reserved for you, smiling gently, should I get for [Name] today?

shitpost since i had this lying around. lowkey cringe

[crappy-writings]

WIP and Ideas List

Main Masterlist | My Fics | Recced Fics

So, I have a few ideas, but don't know which ones to focus on. Figured I'd put it up for a vote. I've always been bad at summaries, but below are the concepts, let me know which ones y'all would be more interested in :D

Most of them are Marvel because apparently my Marvel brainrot never left

WIPs

Keeper of Shadows | Wanda Maximoff x Reader | Series

(Series) Summary: An odd series of fatal attacks in Upstate New York piques your interest, especially when they seem to be related to the strange powers you received when you were 10 years old. By some stroke of luck or misfortune, the Avengers too are investigating the case, and you are their number one suspect. In a temporary alliance, you work together to discover why people are dying, unraveling a line of love, secrets, and betrayal.

Masterlist link is here!

The Run and Go | Natasha Romanoff x Reader | Series

Summary: You, an ex-Red Room graduate turned mercenary, take up an assignment to retrieve some sensitive information from the Triskelion. You run into Natasha as you escape, much to your anger. You can’t seem to escape her after this first encounter as different circumstances force you to work together.

First part is here!

Those Were The Days | Monster Hunter!Natasha x Monster!Reader | Medieval Fantasy AU

Idea: Maybe they were a monster hunting duo and reader gets bit. Instead of telling Nat, they just disappear and Nat thinks the reader died. Few years later, Nat takes up a contract to kill a creature that’s been stalking a local town. Nat tracks them down and is about to kill the creature until she realizes who it is. Fic is placed in medieval-ish times. Unspoken feelings, some angst. [This was supposed to come out on Halloween but that didn’t pan out. There will be a vampire version and a werewolf version with 5 endings total].

Link to an early draft here!

Ideas/Prompts

Marvel

Little Bee | Hope Van DynexReader | Fluff Oneshot

Summary: Sparring with Hope was fun. Teasing her while doing it was even better.

Late Night Shots | Ronin!Clint Barton x Barton!Reader | Angst Oneshot

Summary: You mourn those who were lost to the Blip, including the ones who are still around. [Or Clint takes off shortly after the blip, leaving behind the only surviving Barton child, much to their anger and resentment.]

Sick Fic | Natasha Romanoff x Reader | Oneshot

Prompt: You're sick and don't want to tell Nat. She still finds out and takes care of you when you can't. It's kinda angsty, lowkey, but also really simple, and it's halfway written.

Pitfalls of Devotion | Natasha Romanoff x Reader | Miniseries maybe?

Prompt: Follow-up to "Orpheus and Eurydice." It's not fully thought out, but its sort of supposed to be a parallel to the myth, going after her, maybe in the soul stone somehow and trying to get her back? Maybe, probably, end in angst?

Night's First Star | Wanda Maximoff x Reader | Fluff Oneshot

Prompt: You were told that the first star in the night sky will grant you a wish but you have all you could ever wish for with her.

S.T.R.I.K.E. Out | Steve Rogers x Reader | Oneshot or Series

Prompt: A Captain America and the Winter soldier fic where the reader is a STRIKE agent that’s not in Hydra and is helping Cap out. The elevator scene is where the reader finds out everything is wrong and stays in the strike team to get more info. After the mall scene, the reader gets found out and is captured and lowkey tortured. Hydra send in the Winter soldier to get more info out of them but instead, he asks about Steve and why Steve knew him. The reader tells him about how they were best friends and stuff and bucky does the “he used to put newspapers in his shoes” but he’s horrified cuz he finds out his whole existence as a hydra “agent” is a lie. [Or basically a slow-burn reader insert of Captain America and the Winter Soldier]

Untitled | Avengers x Reader | Oneshot/Mini series

Summary: You've gone rogue, having left the Compound in the middle of the night and no one knows where you've gone. You return a few days later and call for a meeting despite the heavy injuries you have.

Untitled | Kate Bishop x Reader | Angst Series

Summary/Prompt: After Eleanor Bishop's mysterious death, Clint and Kate begin to investigate, finding ties to the not-dead King Pin himself. [Or a spy-thriller type fic where everything will go absolutely wrong]

Untitled | Matt Murdock x fem!Reader | One-Shot

Prompt: Matt, for all his skillsets, doesn't realize his next-door neighbor is also a vigilante. [Basically had a stupid idea of the reader coming in at around the same time as Matt to their apartments and the reader smells of blood and they are denying it by blaming her period or something, idk]

Untitled | Daisy Johnson x Reader | Mini-Series

Prompt: You, an Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., have been on an undercover mission at a Hydra base, reporting on a secret project they have been working on. After one of your calls is intercepted and are made out, Daisy and the team work to get you back. [Basically the Whump troupe again, sorry, it's one of my favorites]

Prompt: Would love to write a spider-person!reader but have no idea what story I'd want to tell nor who to write it for.

Prompt: Would also love to do a choose-your own path type fic, but also have no idea what the story should be or who to write it for.

Star Wars

Prompt #1: Reader is a pilot squad leader. They lost their entire squad on their last mission and is, naturally, heartbroken. They have to write letters to their families and tell them that they’ll have no bodies to mourn. They’re taking it out on a space punching bag or somethin’ until they collapse and they scream. While trying to catch their breath, two hands reach from behind them, the hands feeling so familiar. The hands pull the reader back gently and the reader sinks into them and grip onto the person holding them. [Don't have an era nor a character in mind, tbh]

I'll take care of you. | ReyxReader | Oneshot

Summary: Rey gets hurt after a scavenging trip to one of the Star Destroyers deep in the Jakku desert. You promised to always take care of her.

Prompt #2: SW fic where reader was part of a shut down trial where they implemented chips similar to what happens to the clones in the prequels. Reader defected and joined the rebellion. The chip is somehow activated and reader starts attacking the rebels but is trying to fight the programming from within. [I was picturing either the originals or sequels era]

The Walking Dead

Prompt: Takes place during and/or after S3 ep7 and reader is working a lot harder cuz they feel guilty about what happened to Maggie? Idk, I started rewatching the show recently and was reminded of my huge crush on Maggie. Anyways, I'd like to write something zombie apocalypse but don't have any ideas, so.

Most of these ideas and prompts aren't fully thought out yet, but I'd work on them as I'd go. Anyways, thought I’d put these out there, so let me know what y’all think!

[hlficlibrary]

hi admin! i found your page just a couple days ago and you're already my favourite one here on tumblr <3 i was looking for friends to lovers fics where hl friendships starts as something more platonic! yk when even others think they are in love but they don't realize (like end up messing other situationships up bc the other and stuff if u know what i mean)😅 basically platonic best friends to lovers i guess it's called (? anyways, lots of love for you :)

Hi, anon! Thanks so much for your kind words! Here are some fics that fit what you're looking for!

Snow In Love by @lululawrence

Harry and Louis are best friends and have been for basically as long as they can remember. For the first time since middle school, they are both single for the holidays leaving them with the brilliant idea to take each other as their dates to work events. To make things easier they will pretend like they’re dating. But then they learn something funny.

People thought they were already dating. Weird.

An advent fic featuring childhood friends, fake dating turned actual dating, really horrible secret keeping, and a winter weather surprise.

After All This Time by lovelarry10 / @chloehl10

“Look, I’m sorry. I just… we reckon you and Harry would be so good together. You just, I dunno, complete each other somehow? In a way that we all don’t. Sometimes, we watch the two of you and it’s like Harry and Louis against the world, like we could all disappear and you’d both be just fine as long you have each other.”

“Shit. God, I’m sorry, Li, we don’t mean to-”

“No! No, Lou, I’m not looking for an apology or whatever. I just… I wish you’d both see how good you’d be together. It’s nice, to watch you both actually, how easy things are between you. You cuddle, and touch each other, but at the same time, you can just sit in silence with each other, and it’s enough. I’d like to find that, someday, that’s all.”

Louis and Harry have been best friends since a fateful meeting on the Hogwarts Express seven years ago. With their time at Hogwarts coming to an end, their friends are determined to make them see that perhaps they've always destined to be more than just friends.

Prompted into reliving some of their most vivid moments at Hogwarts, Louis and Harry come to a startling realisation... that just maybe, after all this time, they're meant to be each others. Always.

spoon time by shiptattou / @wecantalktomorrow

There was nothing going on between them outside of the normal bro-pal-laddy-dude things every other set of best friends did. All sets of best friends did things like this. You know, hanging out every day, staying up late, and chatting until the wee hours which usually ended up as a sleepover and bed-sharing. There is nothing going on between them.

That is what Harry was going to keep telling himself and everyone around them, anyway because it is the truth, after all.

[beechersnope]

t4t seb/oscar anyone?

warnings for general rancid vibes, undernegotiated unprotected sex, & nonconsensual exhibitionism. past seb/mark heavily mentioned, as well as unrequited oscar/mark.

***

“Congrats.”

The way Seb says it doesn’t feel congratulatory. It feels predatory. All teeth, no smile.

Oscar shrugs. “Thanks.”

Seb lingers in the doorway to the driver’s room—not Oscar's, technically, borrowed for just the next hour so he can make the appropriate phone calls to his parents, his friends. Mark. He hasn’t managed to ring a single one so far, instead spending the last fifteen minutes just staring down at his phone, his mind totally blank until Seb unexpectedly opened the door and let himself in.

“Can we talk?” Seb asks. He slowly closes the door behind him. Oscar’s eyes track the movement of his slim fingers as he turns the lock.

“Okay,” Oscar replies. “About what?”

He doesn’t get an answer. Instead, Seb swiftly crosses the room and with an inscrutable expression on his face, grabs Oscar’s jaw with both hands and presses their mouths together.

It’s hard, biting, just on the too-much side of painful, but Oscar doesn’t pull away. He moans when Seb forces his mouth open with a thumb against his lower lip, shuddering when Seb sucks on his tongue.

“Take off your clothes,” Seb says as soon as he pulls away, his eyes dark, pupils blown.

“There’s no time—” Oscar protests, but he’s shut up by another searing kiss, and then Seb’s hands drop down to his jeans and make quick work of the button and zip.

In the end, Seb doesn’t do more than pull them down around Oscar’s knees along with his boxers before bending him over the couch and spreading his thighs.

“Christ, no wonder Mark’s so obsessed with you,” Seb says as he drags a callused thumb down the seam of Oscar’s cunt. “Can’t believe he lets you out of the house. If it were me, I’d spend all day just eating your gorgeous little pussy.”

Oscar’s face goes hot with embarrassment and—something else, something he doesn’t dare put a name to. If it were anyone but Seb, the comment might have felt degrading, but instead it just seemed…sincere.

“You like that?” Seb asks in a low voice as he leans over Oscar to whisper in his ear. “You’re already wet.”

“Do something,” Oscar grumbles. He pushes his ass out, colliding with Seb’s hips accidentally and feeling a welcoming hardness through Seb’s race suit. He must have come to Oscar’s room for this, then, he thinks. Come prepared and wanting.

“Yeah? Want me to fuck you? The way you wish Mark would fuck you, I bet.”

Oscar doesn’t dignify that with an answer. He struggles to get his teeth around the corner of the couch cushion and bites down, knowing that he won’t have the wherewithal to keep quiet if Seb makes good on his promise.

He gets a finger first, probing inside him. Then another, both of them pushing down toward his pelvic bone until he feels a strange hollow ache inside him that causes him to clench down around Seb’s fingers without meaning to.

“Just like that, yeah. God I can’t wait to get my cock inside you, show Mark what he’s missing.”

Seb’s fingers suddenly disappear, leaving nothing but a raw pulsing need in their wake. Oscar struggles to open his legs a little wider, trapped by Seb’s body and the confines of his jeans.

“Can you come from being fucked?” Seb asks over the sound of his race suit being unzipped, the rustle of fabric filling in the blanks for Oscar, whose body locks up in eager anticipation of whatever’s coming next. If Mark wouldn’t fuck him, then this was basically the next best thing. “Oscar,” Seb prompts with a light swat against his ass, not hard enough to leave a mark. “Can you come from being fucked?” he asks again.

Oscar shakes his head. But he doesn’t really know. He’s never tried.

“Okay,” is all Seb says in response, but the word feels loaded, and Oscar can’t help but wonder what he has planned.

There isn’t time to dwell on it. Only a few seconds pass in silence before Oscar feels something hot and hard pushing into him, spearing him open, rendering him breathless. It isn’t the rough catch of silicone that he expects, but soft skin, slickly gliding into him.

Oh, Oscar thinks to himself as his body jerks away from the sensation, his brain just barely catching up. Oh. Then he wonders: does Mark know?

“Easy,” Seb says with a hand against the small of Oscar’s back. He pushes inside until Oscar can feel Seb’s pubes tickling the bare skin of his ass, and then he stays there a moment, not moving at all. “Fuck, you feel good,” Seb finally says through a forceful exhale. “Mark’s an idiot for not fucking you already.”

Oscar lets go of the cushion with his teeth, unable to hold back his response. “You’re not fucking me either.”

Seb laughs, and then he pulls out just far enough to slam back in.

It knocks the breath out of Oscar, but Seb starts up a violent rhythm that renders him unable to catch the edge of the cushion with his teeth again, so he settles for burying his face in the couch instead, hoping the sounds pouring out of him with every thrust are muffled enough that they won’t be audible in the hallway outside.

It hurts a little, and Seb’s not even trying to get him off, just using him—but somehow that makes Oscar even wetter. He’ll be sore for days after, with the way Seb’s cock keeps hitting his cervix on every thrust, the dull ache of it making Oscar’s stomach clench in time with his cunt. Seb’s hand is still a heavy weight against his back, keeping him still, unable to get away from the balls-deep thrusts even if he wanted to. He wonders if it would be like this with Mark, if Seb is fucking him the way Mark used to fuck Seb—and just that thought gets him so close he wonders whether he can come from being fucked after all.

He doesn’t get the chance to find out. The movements inside him quicken, short jerks that precede a gasping whine from Seb’s mouth as he stills inside him. A hand curls over Oscar’s hipbone, pressing bruises into his skin as Seb pants out his orgasm while he trembles and shakes against Oscar’s back.

Oscar feels delirious when Seb finally pulls out and flips him over onto his back. He stares up into Seb’s sweat-streaked face, curls damp at his temples, and wishes Seb would keep going. Oscar knows Seb can, that he doesn’t have to wait, even if it feels like too much. But Oscar has never been good at asking for what he wants.

“Call Mark,” Seb says in a hoarse voice, throat full of saliva that he has to swallow down before he can repeat himself. “Call Mark and tell him they signed you.”

Oscar wants to ask Seb what the hell is wrong with him, but he doesn’t. He scrabbles against the couch with his fingers for his phone, which has slipped into the crevice between the cushions at some point during their encounter, and pulls up Mark’s name without saying anything at all.

Seb just watches as the phone rings. Oscar puts it on speaker, even though he knows he shouldn’t.

As soon as Mark’s “Hello?” emanates in the room, Seb dives down between Oscar’s thighs and sucks his still-hard clit into his mouth.

Oscar lets out a sharp gasp, feeling like it’s been punched out of him. The suction of Seb’s mouth is so overwhelming he doesn’t know whether to scream or cry.

“Oscar?” Mark says, oblivious. “Are you there?”

“Yeah,” Oscar finally manages, throat tight. “I—”

“What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Oscar says again. He has to wait a beat as the forebear of his orgasm washes over him, subdued by the rattling breath that escapes his mouth. “I got signed to McLaren,” he says, and there’s no way that Mark doesn’t think that he’s jerking off or something, but hopefully that’s all he thinks it is. “They’re going to announce soon, but I…. I wanted to tell you first.”

“Oh,” Mark replies, and there’s an edge to his voice that wasn’t there before. “Congrats, kid.”

Oscar opens his mouth to say ‘thank you’, but it doesn’t come out. Seb sucks hard and drags his teeth along the side of his clit as Mark congratulates him, almost like it’s a silent form of retribution, and just like that, Oscar is coming, his thighs clamping down on either side of Seb’s head as he tries and fails to bite back the warbling cry that pours out of him in fits and stutters.

There’s a long pregnant silence that follows as Oscar slowly comes back to himself. Seb slowly pries apart Oscar’s legs to free himself, and stands up without a word, turning away before Oscar can catch sight of his cock as he tucks himself back into his fireproofs.

Oscar’s head flops to the side. He glances at the phone next to him, surprised to see that the call timer is still running. He’d thought—feared—that Mark had hung up.

“Are you still there?” Oscar asks in a small voice.

A beat of silence, then— “Yeah,” Mark says quietly. Then another beat. “Oscar,” he says, almost tentatively. “Are you alone right now?”

Oscar glances up at Seb, who doesn’t meet his eyes. “No,” he breathes.

[disproportionatelysculpting]

Prompt - an old man is sitting in the park below the old tree the old tree here signifies his old age and he is seeing the child play , mid age people giggling, couple walking holding hands and a family man sitting silent in the corner. Like basically he is seeing every phase of human life and you can relate an excited child with butterflies , similarly relating every human phase with something present in the park

I wanted to write in this theme but now you can write if you find the idea nice 👍 you can alter and change accordingly

Happy writing 🎇

Flower for you too 🌷

I want to write this in more of a essay form, might get boring//

In this era of rush, everyone in a chase for something like hamsters stuck on rolling wheels, so am I. Tired of all this craving to find the perfect life and all the ways to be successful, I wished to run away or ruin myself. To take a break from these all, chaos, thoughts, I went on a walk to the grounds nearby, to ground my own pace in this world.

There was an old man sitting on the dais below a tree and I sat beside, breathing in the changing atmosphere from the dull exhausted air of afternoon, to the cold, heavy, yet crisp fresh zephyrs of evening.

I began to notice his face and features, there was a calm and little smile, while his eyes danced around and there were wrinkle and smile lines on his face just like the tree behind us. I followed where his eyes went, to see what made him feel at such peace, one we all are searching, one I couldn't find.

I followed everywhere his eyes went, wondering what was so good about this? I took a look back at his eyes and his smile grew wider. I wanted to ask, why? What is so good about it all? So I took the courage and asked him.

He talked a while, and then told me about how he viewed the world and I think I learned something that day I can never let go of anymore.

There are people around, children hiding and seeking, playing with joys of childhood. Look at the kids, they are so young, carefree, they don't even care about the worldly belonging, because their world is just full of love, like the bees in this tree, they roam around, collecting sweet things in the fields. That's childhood you see.

Groups of teenagers walking back to home, laughing together maybe cracking jokes about how their days went, or about some teacher of their who sucks at school, or maybe something else. Look at those teens and these ants climbing behind the tree, hardworking, to keep themselves alive when the world grows cold, finding little joys even in the competition to survive, greeting each other with smiles and they will fight for their lives. You see that is youth.

Then there is a couple sitting beside a food stall, holding hands, giggling, waiting for the food. Look at those young people so adorably into each other, even getting a little treat is like whole world for them, you see these moments are fleeting, they will disappear just like the food and maybe after a while they will find new recipes to try but the love will always flow in those veins. You see that is love.

There is a young man carrying grocery bags and other with his child in his lapel, reconnecting after seeing each other randomly. They are like bunch of caterpillars fed on same plant but different species, one evolved into a small butterfly other into a moth, maybe one of their friend will be a majestic kind, both pretty in their own kind. Different paths but the process they went is the same. You see that's adulting.

And then there is he, An old man, like this old tree, watching everyone, everything, finding joy in mundanity of these little things, in the minuscule worth of human life. And then there is you, trying to make sense of this world, trying to find a way to bring happiness to your soul without searching the beauty in simplicity. Life is a pathetically abusive race, It took me ages to learn how to appreciate it and I noticed how you craves that knowledge, just like me in my youth. I hope you grow like this tree, it was younger when I was a child, still quite old but it continues to grow more. And look how peaceful it is to sit beneath it and how enormous it is, don't forget life is a race but its also your only life. Don't lose yourself in admist the chaos, I hope you age beautifully, Child.

[supercasey]

Meet my Grumpus OC, Tedissifer! I’ve been obsessed with Bugsnax all month, so I finally caved and made an OC, though I couldn’t resist tying him to Wambus and Triffany, my favorites in the game (save for, well, everyone. They’re all fantastic)! Here’s some basic info about ‘im, though there’s way more under the readmore including his main quest, side quest, and interview with the Journalist!

Name: Tedissifer “Tes” Troubleshoot

Pronouns: He/Him

Loves: Wambus, Triffany

Likes: Gramble, Chandlo, Floofty, Filbo, Eggabell

Neutral: Lizbert, Snorpy, Shelda, Beffica

Dislikes: Wiggle, Cromdo

Favorite Snak (To Eat): Fryder

Favorite Sauce: Ketchup

Character Ideas

+Has a pet Bunger (named Lil’ Mac) that’s been following him around since he arrived on the island. Snorpy helped him put a bow-tie on him to keep him from accidentally getting captured by Lizbert (the bow-tie has a tracking device/trap neutralizer installed in it). Tes goes to the edge of Snaxburg every night to visit Mac, but after completing his side quest, Mac moves in with him and Gramble, and follows him around during his morning routine.

+Wants to be helpful, but oftentimes just comes off as annoying/tiresome, leading to most of the other grumps avoiding him, save for his friends and relatives.

+He can usually be found either petting the Snax in Gramble’s pen, or visiting his aunt and uncle around town. Sits on the ground in front of the campfire every night beside Wambus.

+He has a lot of repressed issues due to a sense of hopelessness from watching Wambus and Triffany lose their farm; his personal quest helps him open up about this to the journalist.

+Through his personal quest, Tes attempts to please both Wambus- who he admires and loves- and Gramble- who's taught him to tame Bugsnax- leading to an altercation between the two older grumps that Tes has to resolve. In the aftermath, Wambus relents and allows Tes to keep his Bunger/help Gramble with the rest of his Bugsnax, opening the town to having more snax as Tes convinces Gramble to let at least a few be available to eat for emergencies.

Main Quest Tie-in (takes place after Small Celebration!)

(Note: I’m following the format of the IGN/Bugsnax Wiki page for character side quests, so that’s why things may be worded weird.)

Summary: During the fight between Gramble and Wambus during Small Celebration, Gramble mentions that the only person who isn’t a “hungry maniac” isn’t back in town, and that he wishes it was him who came back and not Wambus, prompting Wambus to warn him to stay away from his nephew. The next morning, Filbo suggests that the Journalist try to find Tes, as he can help Gramble keep the Snax well taken care of in his barn.

Find Tes: Filbo said something about Wambus’s nephew being able to help Gramble with his barn. I should be able to find him somewhere back in Flavor Falls. Objective: return to Flavor Falls and search for Tes.

Lil’ Mac: There’s a weird Bunger wearing a bowtie that’s running around Flavor Falls. I should catch it for Gramble’s barn! Objective: catch the mysterious Bunger.

Escape Arsonist: Despite having caught the Bunger in my Snaktrap, the trap rejected the Snak and let it loose. This is no ordinary Bunger! Objective: follow the Bunger and find out it’s secrets.

Where There’s A Will: I followed the Bunger to a  secret encampment, but it disappeared behind a makeshift wall that I can’t get through. If I can make it to the other side, I might be able to find Tes. Objective: find a way past the wall.

Tes Craves Flavor

Inferiority Complexion: Tes seems eager to return to Snaxburg, but he’s embarrassed to come back when he has nothing to show for his time away. I can relate. Objective: catch and feed 2 Baja Tacroach.

It’s The Inside That Counts: Apparently certain snax don’t taste very good to Tes, but he has an idea on how to “fix” them. Objective: collect 10 hot sauce and catch 1 Inchwrap.

Seasons Is The Reason: Tes has discovered how to change the flavors of Bugsnax, but he wants to experiment some more. Objective: collect 5 ketchup, 5 ranch, and 1 Fryder.

Get Tes Back to Snaxburg: Now that Tes has a handle on his new discovery, it might be a good time to convince him to go home. Objective: convince Tes to go back to Snaxburg.

Side Quest (takes place after Ghost Stories)

Summary: Tes wants Wambus and Gramble to get along so he can stop feeling like he’s choosing a side, leading him to enlist the Journalist’s help to make it seem like they’re doing nice things for each other. After feeding a Crystal Sweetiefly to Wambus (his favorite) and donating a Sweet Fryder and BBQ Bunger to Gramble (they seem like Wambus-like gifts), the two of them get into another scuffle, forcing Tes to come clean about the plot. Both Grumpuses end up being disappointed in him, leading Tes to consider leaving town again, since he thinks they hate him now. After some convincing from the Journalist (and creating some more Bugsnax variants as make-up gifts) Tes invites Wambus and Gramble to the campfire for a late night talk. Tes finally tells both men the truth; that he loves to eat Bugsnax, but still thinks they can be tamed and kept as pets. He goes on to admit that their fights have been making him feel like he needs to pick between them, but he just can’t bring himself to do so, as he loves them both. While they still aren’t anything close to friends, Wambus and Gramble agree to try tolerating each other better, both for the sake of Snaxburg and their relationships with Tes.

Tes Finds Compromise: Tes looks upset about something. I should probably see what’s bothering him. Objective: speak with Tes.

Family Knows Best: Tes is frustrated with how much Wambus and Gramble hate each other, and wants to find a way for them to get along. Obviously, this means I have to do most of the heavy lifting. Objective: Catch and feed 1 Crystal Sweetiefly to Wambus, then tell him it’s from Gramble.

Roommates Know Better: With Wambus’s gift having gone so well, Tes wants to give Gramble something, too. Hopefully he has something good in mind. Objective: Catch and donate 1 Sweet Fryder and 1 BBQ Bunger, then tell Gramble they’re from Wambus.

More Than He Can Chew: It looks like there’s a commotion at the front gate involving Gramble and Wambus. This can’t be good. Objective: Witness the confrontation between Wambus and Gramble.

Honesty Is The Best Policy: Thanks to Tes’s (stupid) idea, both Gramble and Wambus are giving him the cold shoulder. I should try to patch this out before there’s another fight. Objective: Talk to Gramble and Wambus, then meet them at the campfire anywhere from 10PM-12AM.

INTERVIEW DIALOGUE

Journalist: Who are you?

Tedissifer: I’m Wambus and Tiffany’s nephew! 

Journalist: Can I get a little bit more than that, namely a... name?

Tedissifer: Oh, sorry ‘bout that; I’m Teddisiffer Troubleshoot, though most everybody ‘round here calls me Tes :3

Journalist: Why come to Snaktooth Island?

Tedissifer: Truth be told, it didn’t interest me that much when I heard about it on the news- figured it was nothin’ but fairy tales ‘n gossip- but then I heard that my uncle was going, so I got in touch with him and, well, I suppose the rest speaks for itself.

Journalist: Are you and your uncle close?

Tedissifer: Grump yes we are; he’s been my idol ever since I was a pup! Every summer my folks would send me ‘n my siblings over to Uncle Wamb’s to help with the farm... also it was nice to get a break from us for a season. Can’t say I’m particularly bitter about it or nothin’; those summers were the best days of my life!

Journalist: Let’s circle back; what are your thoughts on Bugsnax?

Tedissifer: They’re pretty grumpin’ tasty, if I do say so myself! Tricky to catch ‘n swallow, ‘specially when they're so darn cute, but they’re worth the trouble.

Journalist: Any info on Lizbert?

Tedissifer: Sorry to say, but my well of knowledge is as dry as it gets with her. We got along perfectly fine when she was around- as fine as acquaintances can be- but truth be told, I’m not much for talkin’ to newcomers unless they're aimin’ to stay awhile, and she just wasn’t built for that like her partner was. To each their own, I reckon.

Journalist: What about her partner Eggabell?

Tedissifer: Aw, Eggsy’s the sweetest! She’ll chew you like a snak if you go 'n rough yerself up real bad, but she’s great company! I used to sit by the fire with her ‘n chat the night away with all kinds ‘a stories, mostly ‘bout our lives before we settled out ‘ere. She may not be an adventurer like her missus, but I honestly think she’s way tougher, at least in the brain. I reckon she’s only gotten tougher out there, wherever she’s off to.

Journalist: What happened to Snaxburg?

Tedissifer: What didn’t happen? As soon as Elizabert ‘n Eggsy vanished, everyone up ‘n lost their grumpin’ marbles, even Uncle Wamb! Sure, we had less food without ‘em around, ‘n no one’s all that good at huntin’, ‘specially compared to Elizabert, but we shoulda been just fine with sauce.

Journalist: How can a community only survive on condiments?

Tedissifer: Grumpit, I don’t know, but we weren’t as helpless as everybody made it out to be! ...Look, I know I’m young ‘n all, ‘n I haven't been through nearly as much as most of these Grumps, but you’d  think we coulda held it together for at least a week or so, right? Grump knows me ‘n my kin have survived through worse, and we’ll do it again if we gotta!

Journalist: What do you mean by that? What else have you survived?

Tedissifer: Um… nothin’, forget I said anything.

END INTERVIEW

Journalist: We’re just about finished here; any closing remarks?

Tedissifer: Actually, yeah... before I forget, Eggsy told me somethin’ important before she went missin’; said she was headin’ up to the mountain to “prove herself”, or somethin’ like that. I wanted to stop her, but she looked so happy ‘n excited... supposed that’s gonna haunt me ‘til I’m dead. I figure you're gonna look for ‘er, right? Lemme draw ya up a map, try ta give ya a good idea where to search. And, by the way... thanks. For everything. Some ‘a us ‘round here aren’t very good at sayin’ as much, but I’m not afraid to be appreciative. Good luck with your investigation!

Oh my g-d that was so much, why tf did I type all this out?? I doubt this’ll get any traction, but at least I can share my unhinged rants with my bro and his fiance. To anyone whose read this far, I love you <3

[fantomette22]

QUICK!! LET’S TALK ABOUT YOUR FIC CAINHURST OCS SO WE CAN INVITE THEM TO ME AND BIMBOM’S OC TEA PARTY AND WATCH THEM ALL FIGHT!!

OH OK Ok !!!

So i will keep it to my main fic « OCs »because if i add the 3 version of Maria family tree or smt it’s never gonna be over 😂

Potential lil spoilers for my fic too ahah (but I didn’t put any big spoils!) Also some are complete Ocs but other are based on the portrait or even fit in the lore and could be more of an oc with a prompt /interpretation. And funny things to note but literally more than half of my bloodborne ocs are from Cainhurst 😂

Ok let’s begin with Vledemyr!

The young newest addition to the royal guard. Maria & Annalise cousin & friend, future head of the royal guard of Annalise (and one of the most powerful vileblood one day). In my notes I said he is 4y older than Maria and 1y older than Annalise. That guy is like the mvp of cainhurst. Best inhabitant of Cain after Maria probably. I already talk about him I think ( I love him so much). Ok he would do anything for Annalise yeah but Maria too. Always here to watch over her like an older brother. He’s a bit overprotective of the girls when they were young yeah. Really a great support character, the ideal knight ! He’s not annoying like the rest of the typical cainhurst nobles too. His only default is maybe to be too loyal and obey order without contradicted them. Oh and he’s the one who take care of the crows & raven of the castle. (He’s the best that’s why you need to know)

Lady Sveta/ Svetta smt (kinda place holder name)

she’s a young noble lady from Cainhurst, similar age to Annalise and a close friend of her, Vledemyr, Maria etc She’s a calm & thoughtful lady who managed to become quite influential over the years at Cainhurst despite her young age. She’s not a knight but like most aristocratic cainhurst ladies she was taught how to weld a dagger at least. (Vled taught her quite a few extra tips too!)

Charles : What can I tell about him without telling too much🤔 He’s Maria, Annalise & Vledemyr childhood friend. His family don’t live at Cainhurst anymore and he’s not a super high class noble. The executioner gloves came from his family yep. He was a students at Byrgenwerth too. He begin his course 1y before Maria (1 year older). As a kid the 2 were really the inseparable little trouble makers of Cainhurst 😂 He grew more mature since but could cause troubles if he wish XD (a bit like Laurence, when told them NO and they say YES.) Yeah he’s a lil bastard basically but I love him.

He hope one to impress the noble from Cainhurst and have an important place one day. And you know help restore the great strength Cainhurst lost over time (it’s the shadow of it’s former glory)

He could have quite a decisive role at some point…

Richard, he’s the precedent king consort of cainhurst and Annalise’s father. Poor guy, so much stuff is going on in front of his salad and he can’t do anything about it xD. Yeah he’s not really the one in charge the old ladies of their council don’t even consult him every time ;-; but he’s trying his best and dream of a day where Cainhurst would be xxx again! Of course he’s not perfect but he tried. For exemple he’s really compatissant with Maria wanting to go study far from cainhurst and travel when she’s supposed to become a royal guard. And he prepared Annalise as best as he could and preferred to take pressure on himself than on his dear daughter. Still, sometimes (bc it’s his right) he’s wearing one of the most precious tresor of cainhurst. One of the crown of illusion. Said to diccipe & create illusion in the ancient times. The 2nd crown was lost century ago far into the plumerias labyrinth and all it’s just a normal crown now. All it’s mystic power seems to have disappear long ago…

Well there’s the late queen I guess. (Don’t have a name yet sorry) she was loved by her subject and yeah typical queen too. She was actually the one to try to begin expedition to pthumerians underground again. After decades/centuries of nothing because cainhurst was to salty at the war their loose against their cousins

The ex body guard of the queen (I don’t have a name yet 😐). Will be relevant at some point… He was originally a mercenary hiring by Cainhurst to go to Loran. One of the only person who came back and they made him knight for his exploit. He even become the Queen’s personal bodyguard. He mysteriously disappeared some times after the Queen passed away…

The Royal guard captain? Or at least one of the head of the knights (when Maria was a student at Byrgenwerth). He’s an asshole. Other instructors are much sympthetic but this guy omg… you will understand when the time come. He’s really strict, almost abusive and doesn’t support when you contradict him or try to insult him to his face 😬

3 squires : future royal guards in training about Maria’s age. The 4 of them are supposed to become the next royal guards & Annalise personal guard.

(Maria is on the right & Vledemyr supervise them. It’s a meme too xD)

There’s a young woman (chikage and Evelyn) and two young men, one really strong with 2 chikages and the other one wielding a reiterpallasch and an Evelyn)

I need names too. And I can’t tell you really much more for now.

The next 3 are inspired by a song my friend made.

Twins musician : 2 of the most incredible musicians of Cainhurst. They both can play a clavecin in sync for exemple. And really fast

The master of dance/maestro : He teach the young noble how to spar & dance. And is a bit crazy really XD he often wear a knight helmet with a black suit.

Oh I almost forgot but the chiefs cook ! They come from the same country as Yamamura. If you do shit with their food or tried to cook one of their signature dishes horribly they will fight you.

Then I guess there’s Maria’s close family & other relatives ? You know her parents, the other nobles (but not really ocs more like background character you know) and her annoying grand aunts… 🤣 « But Annalise you can’t stand grand aunt Suzanne either ! »

The birds (crows mostly), horses and dogs don’t count I guess rip 💔 (I’m looking for names too. Yes they are important and relevant background characters)

I know Bloody Crow is not an OC but does baby Bloody Crow (when he was a baby/kid/teens) aka Voron count ? 🥺 No? ok. All I will say for now is that Maria is his godmother.

Ok so Leo don’t count either I guess so not for today. I don’t think his half siblings : Lupin & sister count either XD they are not noble and from Hemwick so (also in the family of my dear hunter)

There’s one last cainhurst oc I have… I think… but hm i can’t really talk about it (a lil secret kinda) I will only say that this oc was a young and sweet little girl who loved flowers and her family. She is deeply missed.

Anyway can’t wait see a hell of a typical Cainhurst duel on the table 👀 oh I mean tea party sorry x)

[misanthropicvampire]

3, 12, 13, 20, 22

3. do I care about being a good person? why/why not?

difficult question and entirely depends on my current mental state. if I had to try to be as objective as possible, I care to an extent, and that extent is likely a lot lower than other people's. I do have my own personal values or code of conduct that I'm unlikely to break, certain lines that I won't cross, but my morality tends to be very conditional, depending on who the person is and how they're treating me. so far in my life I've found that I rarely feel guilt for my actions, and the times that I believe I have felt guilt have actually been irritation at the negative consequences for myself. generally I don't think that I'm evil, and there are many worse people than myself, but neither do I think that I'm especially virtuous.

12. what is my worst trait that affects me?

in day to day interactions, my unconscious arrogance and lack of interest in other people can make forming connections difficult. I usually have to resort to a very restricted, polite mask that doesn't allow me to genuinely communicate with anyone in order to hide my natural attitude/reactions, which most people find rude, pretentious or dismissive.

13. what is my best trait that benefits me?

the thing I get the most out of from npd is an ability to control my attachments, remain immune to other people's emotional manipulation (due to a lack of empathy), and not have to worry about a lack of confidence regarding my abilities. obviously this depends on if I'm currently crashing or not, but when I'm in a high period, the sense of control that I feel over my life and relationships has saved me from a lot of grief.

20. is there a trait from my cluster B disorder I really wish I didn't have?

there are quite a few undesirable traits that come with npd, but for me my main ones are anger management issues/general pessimism/overabundance of negative emotions, a lack of self sufficiency when it comes to feeling pleased and satisfied with myself, intense jealousy, and unconquerable emotional detachment from others, a.k.a not being able to conceive of other viewpoints or recognise that other people have their own internal lives. delusions of grandeur also lead to a lot of disappointment, and can be infuriating because I'm never aware that my expectations are unreasonable until I'm let down again.

22. do I have a hierarchy of how I view people? if yes, what do the 'levels' look like to me?

yes, definitely. I don't generally think about this in detail or consciously move people up and down the 'levels' but, if I had to label them like a pyramid, beginning from the very bottom:

• background noise/cardboard cutouts - the majority of people; I rarely notice or remember any defining features about them and have to be actively encouraged to give them a second thought.

• minor irritants - nothing personal, I've just noticed certain behaviours or mannerisms from them that get on my nerves. I tolerate their company but that's all it is, toleration.

• active dislike - the reason that they're higher up on this imaginary pyramid is that they're able to provoke a reaction in me. I still don't usually think about them unless prompted, but can't be around them without immense stress or having an outburst.

• neutral zone - I'm aware of their existence and remember basic facts about them but they mean very little to me and I would not notice if they became absent from my life. I have no opinion on them one way or another so they place higher as I won't mind their company.

• vague affection - I don't mind their company and would gravitate towards them if there was no one else around who placed higher in the pyramid, but again, I wouldn't feel much of anything about their absence.

• fondness - where most friends that I've had lie; I actively seek out their company and can appreciate a few aspects of their personality. they're useful to have around and I'd feel let down if they disappeared.

• pet - I've accepted them as an extension of myself for the time being and, like the label suggests, view them as other people probably would a pet, something that's comforting and a companion.

• true equal/chosen person - rare for me, only about two people have been placed here to my knowledge, but a chosen person for me is someone that I view as equally conscious and deserving as myself.

[dragoon-mid-jump]

FFXIVWrite 2023 Prompt #1: Envoy

envoy (n.): a messenger or representative, especially one on a diplomatic mission. Synonym: agent.

Rating: General

Word count: 427

Minfilia lifted her head at the sudden click of her office door opening. Y'dehlya stepped in, wearing a grave expression. Though, upon closer inspection, Minfilia saw a hint of annoyance, too.

"A word, Antecedent." The miqo'te greeted. Minfilia detected a sigh in her voice. And on top of that, she had addressed her as antecedent, rather than by name. She furrowed her brow.

"Is aught amiss, Dehlya?"

Y'dehlya approached the desk. "I would like to make a request. Or rather, I wish for your blessing before I embark on a certain matter. As of late, the Ixal have grown the boldest of the...beast tribes, with their most recent and most powerful summoning of Garuda that we had to subdue. Additionally, there is the matter of this." She produced something from her pocket and placed it on the desk. Minfilia looked at the shimmering blue stone, then back at its owner.

"Your Job Stone?"

Y'dehlya sighed. "Aye. You remember my circumstance behind it, yes?" Minfilia gave a nod, allowing her to continue. "With the sudden disappearance of Ishgard's Azure Dragoon, my mentor bade me assume his post until he can be located. Word has already been spread in the area that the Eye of Nidhogg he wields was inclined to choose another bearer. Which brings me to my request: Allow me to be your agent in Coerthas. With your blessing, I can in good conscience monitor both situations at once. And perhaps if things go especially well, I may be able to use my new position as leverage in Ishgardian politics. Wishful thinking, I know, but Ser Alberic and Ser Haucherfant made it sound like the mantle held at least a decent amount of weight." Y'dehlya gave her a wry smile, as it basically was wishful thinking to request anything from Ishgard at this point. Perhaps that was the source of the annoyance she detected.

But, strong and bold as her dear friend was, her safety was still of most importance. And thus Minfilia was inclined to ask, "Will you be needing any allies by your side? I'm sure there's no shortage of those among us who would be happy to join you."

"I have some connections in the Adventurer's Guild, among other places if need be." She replied casually. "I have faith that you all will be able to handle matters in my absence."

Minfilia took a deep breath and let it out, facing one of Eorzea's champions with a smile. "Then, go with my blessing to Coerthas. May you walk in the light of the Crystal."

[mdizzle999872]

Say Mr. Glitch's Name

Sayori sighed as she entered her room. The player had just gone through a third play through of their game; she and all the girls were now fully aware of their video game existence but that didn't make things any better. She still had her depression and Monika wasn't doing anything to help at all. In fact, Monika was making it so Sayori's lines in Act 1 were just flying by like it was straight out of some kind of speed run. Sayori was just barely able to get an explanation out of her; Monika said it was so the players wouldn't have to put up with her blabbering.

Yes. Players. Not player. The player enjoyed the game so much he decided to share with his friends, and they each wanted their own play throughs.

So Sayori would end up repeatedly hanging herself at the end of Act 1 and then completely disappear for Act 2.

Lather.

Rinse.

Repeat.

She just wished she could have some kind of control or plead to Monika to ease the suffering. An ultimately futile effort as it turns outs. The one thing Monika had made clear was that she only cared about the player.

She threw her rope up to the ceiling in preparation for the next go around. Her noose looped around the support beam, she tied it off and then she sat on her bed resting her head in her hands.

From her wall a black and purple lightning started to amass. Sayori immediately hid behind her stuffed cow.

"PROTECT ME, MR. COW!"

More and more lightning formed, converging on a single point on her wall.

"Oh, why me?"

A purple hole materialized in the center and from out of it came what looked like a purple cloud with eyes.

"Hello? Is anyone here?" asked the purple cloud.

Sayori poked her head up timidly from behind Mr. Cow.

"Hello... What... are you?"

"Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Mr. Glitch. And I must say, for such a small game it is rather spacious here."

Sayori timidly came out from behind her stuffed animal. Whatever this thing was, it didn't look like to wanted to cause her any harm.

"The coding... It gives me so much more room. Even my voice sounds different...I can speak clearer...I miss the accent."

"Accent?"

"It was NOT Russian!"

Sayori flinched, leaning back.

"...I didn't say it was."

There was an awkward silence; it seemed to last forever but it finally ended when Mr. Glitch suddenly cried out in pain and floated lower to the floor.

"Are you okay?"

"No. I'm afraid that unlike my trips to other games, my transition into this one was incomplete."

"You can transverse games?"

"Not just games, but yes."

"Wow. Even Monika can't do that!"

"Who is Monika?"

"The President of the Doki Doki Literature Club. She's basically in charge around here..."

Sayori went to on to give Mr. Glitch the full details of the situation they were all in. Everything from the play throughs to her own suicide and even to Monika herself. Mr. Glitch listened to all of it, if he was phased by any of it he didn't show. It was hard to judge someone's expressions when they only had eyes for a face.

"So yeah, we're basically all at the mercy of her and her command prompt."

"Command prompt? You mean one of these?"

Mr. Glitch flinched for a moment and a command prompt appeared between the two of them.

"You can do that?!"

"Yes, but no more. Since my transition into this game was incomplete, I cannot do more than this. In order for me to be fully integrated into this game someone will need to fill in my blanks for me."

"Like Monika? I guess that makes sense. I've only ever seen her bring that thing up."

"Like you!"

"Me?!"

"This command prompt is free to use. Any character, like you, can use it. Say my name three times, the command prompt will enter the rest of my code, and I will personally handle that Monika. Sounds like she needs a taste of her own medicine!"

"Well I would like her to be a bit more humble and thoughtful but I don't know. Seems a little cold..." She looked at her hanging noose with a frown. "I was actually thinking on maybe getting a jump on Act 2."

"Cold? After what she... Forget it. What can I do to help you settle on this?"

"Something sweet might help."

"Sweet? Like a lollipop?"

"Or a cookie... maybe a cupcake."

"...How about a song instead?"

"A song?"

"Yes. It sounds like you could use a little cheering up."

Sayori smiled, just a little bit though.

"I... guess a song could be nice."

"Great. Just point at the command prompt and think the words 'Enter Music Vl. Glitch'. Saying it works better but..."

Sayori pointed at the prompt the way Monika usually would. "Like this?"

Music started to play and Sayori jumped in surprise.

"You could use a buddy. Don't you want a pal?"

Mr. Glitch had Sayori's stuffed Mr. Cow levitate next to her. "Yes I do! Yes I do!"

Sensing she didn't really appreciate the puppet show with her stuffed toy, Mr. Glitch lightly tossed it back to her bed.

"Girl, the way that I see it Monika should be leaving and you should stick around...and kill her."

"What?"

"Nothing! So Sayori don't end yourself, defend yourself! Monika is the one you should maim. Together we'll exterminate! ASSASSINATE!"

"NO!"

"The finer points can wait but first you got to say my name! Go ahead and hang out but that won't stop her, here you got an actual Plan B option! I could bring Monika so much pain! All you got to do is say my name. Girl, just enter it three times in a row! And you won't believe how far I'll go! I'm on the bench, but coach just put me in the gaaame! All you got to do is say my name!"

Sayori hugged herself. "I still don't know. Monika is cruel and I really hate killing myself every time but... I'm just not sure I want to sink to her level."

"Oh shush! There will be no need to worry about anything anymore... as soon as you enter my code, you'll never have a problem again. Three times you must say it. Ready?"

"I guess..."

"Go!"

Sayori closed her eyes and took a breath.

"Mr. Glitch..."

"Yeees."

"Mr. Glitch..."

"Yeeeeees!"

"MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM..."

"Oh. Oh! This is gonna be SO good!"

"Mysterious Cloud People probably shouldn't be trusted!"

"What?"

"You're so sweet! A stand up bro! I'll think about your offer and let you know, but I think I prefer my chances on my own! Mr. Glitch!"

"Yes!"

"Mr. Glitch!"

"Yes!"

"Misery..."

"ARGH!"

"might be my burden but I'm no easy mark! I've been swimming with PIRAHNAS I don't need a SHARK! Yes, life sucks but not THAT much! Okay, Mr. Glitch..."

"*Gasp! *"

"Mr. Glitch."

Mr. Glitch whimpered in anticipation, somehow shuffling a little in midair.

"Might want to do us both a favor and spare the lectuuuuuuure!"

"Grrrrrrr!"

He floated up so he could look Sayori in the eye.

"I could effect your game's every sector!"

Sayori raised an eyebrow at him.

"Are you any good?"

"You betcha! Trust me, Sayori!"

Sayori held up her hands defensively and shook her head 'No".

"I just met ya. Really it's a flattering oooooffer!"

"Don't you want to see Monika suffer?"

Sayori's eyes darted to her noose.

"I think I'd rather just hang out!"

"NO!"

Mr. Glitch immediately blocked her view of it but Sayori only pouted angrily.

"I may be suicidal but it's not as if I LOST MY MIND!"

Mr. Glitch circled her a moment and Sayori regained her composure.

"Oh. You have more fire in you than you look. I might actually be impressed."

"I'd just like for you to stop being so shady. Seriously, is there anyone who can actually prove you're not a red flag?"

Almost on cue, the hole got larger and two characters ran into the room from it. Two gentlemen to be precise. One was a tall man with a large mustache wearing a brown trench coat, the other was a short man wearing a blue suit and very thick glasses.

"Who are these guys?" asked Sayori.

"Sherlock Holmes and Watson! My good friends!" Mr. Glitch did an eye smile and shimmied a little.

"...You're friends with Sherlock Holmes and Watson? Are they at least from a game?"

"Yep!"

Before Mr. Glitch could elaborate Sherlock grabbed Sayori and distanced her from Mr. Glitch.

"Miss, I'm afraid I must ask you to stay away from the Rainbow Butterfly Ghost!"

"The... Huh?"

"Holmes!" The short blue man snapped. "Don't forget why we're here!"

"Right ol' Chap! Miss, this fellow is nothing short of a charlatan! Do not believe a word that is attached to that Russian accent!"

Purple lightning started to swarm around Mr. Glitch.

"It was not... OH THAT IS IT!" Mr. Glitch shot both Sherlock and Watson with the lightning. "HIYAH!"

The two spasm in the air for a moment before landing on their feet; a purple glaze over their eyes.

"Mr. Glitch is sexy!" declared Watson.

"Mr. Glitch is smart!" stated Sherlock.

"Mr. Glitch is a graduate of Julliard! He can help! We found him on yelp!"

Sayori leaned back in confused fear as she watched the two new people in her room start to dance and sing.

"Our troubles all ended on the day that we befriended him! Every word is the truuuuuuuuuuuuuth! Mr. Glitch! Mr. Glitch! Mr. Glitch!"

Their song ended with Watson bending over forward in front of Sherlock who was standing straight up. With the song over the two fell over sideways in opposite directions.

"What the heck was that?!" asked Sherlock.

Watson shivered in repulsion. "So violating!"

Mr. Glitch lifted what Sayori could only assume was his chin up, obviously pleased with his feat. "There you go, Babe. A couple of five star reviews!"

"What was that?"

"That was modding. Any program can do that in less than one lesson. Gotta be careful though, too much modding can lead to errors and even crashes."

Of course Mr. Glitch was purposefully not careful when it came to such actions but he saw no reason to share it with Sayori.

"Any program?"

"Yes. Any program will do. Sure."

For what seemed like the first time in forever, Sayori smiled an honest genuine smile.

"Then Mr. Glitch, what do I need you for?"

Mr. Glitch almost hit the floor when she said that. The situation had just done a complete one eighty. Sayori had already turned her back to him and was focusing on Sherlock and Watson.

"Whoa!"

He rose up but some of his colors were missing.

"Whoa!"

He got himself between Sayori and her vision of Sherlock and Watson.

"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!"

Mr. Glitch was practically in Sayori's face now but she only wore a humerus grin in response.

"Wait!"

The look in her eye told him she had made up her mind but he didn't care. "Hold up! Hold up, girl! I know we're of different styles, but I'm a VIRUS straight from the Steam File! I know you don't want to be beguiled, but we are best friends forever!"

In a moment of rare confidence, Sayori picked up Mr. Glitch and tossed him through the portal he came from. "WHOOOOOOAAAAAAA!"

"Ma'am!" Sherlock exclaimed in shock.

"What?!" Sayori replied. "He said he was a virus!"

"I say good riddance!" huffed Watson.

"Well I say our young friend here has been through quite a terrifying show. Is there any way how we can help you feel better about this whole mess? We're here to help after all."

"What about Mr. Glitch?" asked Watson.

Sherlock inspected the hole with his magnifying glass. He could see Mr. Glitch on the other side but wire framing for the wall was acting like prison bars.

"I don't think he's going anywhere, ol' Chap. At least not without help."

"I guess we could spend a little time helping the young lady then. Anything you need Ma'am?"

"Well..." Sayori began with an uncharacteristic smirk. "You heard what that guy said. Any program can do that modding stuff. It might just be the lesson my good friend 'Monika' has been missing!"

Sherlock looked to Watson and he merely shrugged.

"We don't need that virus, she can get modded by just us. Together we can make a Literature President weep, guys we got club meeting to keep!"

"Okay, so what's your plan?" asked Watson.

"Teach Monika a lesson! She's gonna regret all of my depression! So she thinks I'm full of too much chatter, I'll mod that girl 'till she shatters! Yeah, I'll save THE GAME!"

Sayori then started to dance on her bedroom rung.

"I'm gonna make her say my name!"

Watson then started to join Sayori in her dancing.

"We'll make her say your name!"

Now it was Sherlock's turn to shrug. He jumped in and also began to dance with the two loons.

"I'll make her say my name!"

"We'll make her say your name!"

"I'll make her say my name!"

"We'll make her say your name!"

Sayori held her chin up high, enjoying a rare feeling of anticipating joy.

"I'm not running awaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay! I'LL MAKE HER SAY MY NAAAAME!"

THE END

[minarcana]

He can't protect everyone. It's a sharp, digging failure. Urianger takes Minfilia's hand in his to look at the network of scarring. She suffered this, every Minfilia before her suffered (as he has read about those, too, the generations of teenagers who bled and died for this land), because of a killing he enabled. Caused. Urianger exhales slowly and releases Minfilia's hand. "And should he find thee, it shall not be for long. Thancred hath ferried thee from danger all these years, and spirited thee away from Ran'jit once. We shall do all to keep thee from being taken, and shouldst our vigilance fail, we would free thee in moments."

He takes this with a certainty. "Come, hast thou never met Thancred afore? Were thee separated simply from his eyesight without forewarning, he wouldst assuredly panic and fight through the countryside until thy safety were assured, to say nothing of how prompt his response would be shouldst thou be taken from him, and no living thing couldst wish to be as difficult to kill as Thancred ist." She'd have twenty minutes maximum being in Ran'jit's presence without Thancred. While that's not ideal, nor is it too short for something to happen to Minfilia, it's not going to end with her living her life in a cage again. What is Ran'jit to stop Thancred, who has infiltrated Garlemald and Eulmore alike with none the wiser?

"Not only would we fain weather trials for thee, our dear friend, but we do not suffer any innocent to suffer as thou hath. Ran'jit may be cruel, but I do not feareth man. Us who are of age hath made ourselves passing difficult to kill." Minfilia won't be free of her preferred father figures as easily as she fears. As much as Urianger dislikes entertaining the possibility of killing fellow Spoken, one does what one must sometimes.

But on a brighter note! That isn't about potentially killing a quite resilient old man! "I can of course. I hath knowledge of the most basic working to the notes of Sharlayan's most hidden texts." And they can't get him for disseminating it here. "A card? Ohoh. For now, let us divest ourselves from topics grim, and I shall bring unto thee my painting supplies." Those are kept downstairs in one of the many cabinets, and are easily enough procured. And something to do other than ponder worst case scenarios. It's been a bit since Urianger was properly motivated to paint something more decorative than the elemental chart on the main room wall; he can join her.

If Minfilia gets distinctly more than expected for the task of drawing a card, well, then that's a good subversion of expectations, is it not? A parcel of paper and watercolours is provided to her bedside after Urianger is free to disappear for a few moments.

Minfilia is downright pitiful like this, but it's also one of the more... individual, perhaps is the word, ways he's seen her. Urianger hadn't seen the Source's Minfilia catch cold before. "He worrieth much. But thou, thyself, need not join him in that. He shall take care of thy safety, and I of his and Il Mheg's, and thine worries shouldst not be of our safety. We can ensure that much." Urianger smiles at her with a nod of his head. Come now, as if both he and the pixies have need of protection.

The wards around the Bookman's Shelves are quite sturdy, as are the many gates the pixies placed. Not that Thancred or Minfilia (well, the latter perhaps) could notice Urianger's wards, but he is hardly an easy target! A sigh. "That surpriseth me not, though I wish it did." He'll... well, he'd like to say he'll have to do something about that, were it not for the fact that there is nothing to be done. Thancred is Thancred, and such is the way of things. "Certainly this visit. Even if Eulmore's army where knocking 'pon my door, I would not set thee to the wilds when not in full health."

He's willing to let her and Thancred escape any other time when Thancred insists, but this is a special case. "I hath a strong feeling he shall let thee stay until thou art hale and hearty once more. Mother hen he may be, and anxious besides, he shall not usher thee past my door 'till thou canst manage the journey with full health. Alloweth me to manage his nervous pacing." Urianger laughs to himself. Ah, his 'managing' is going to end in Thancred getting some species of revenge if he realizes that his current errand is merely busy work, but that's alright. Urianger shall take that sacrifice.

"My ideas doth also include taking care of thee. Is there aught else thou mayst need or wish for, whilst thou convalesce?"

[lesbianjackies]

Almost Normal

February Prompt #4: Dinner Date

Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1,011

Warnings: Mentions of food and eating, but other than that, none! It's very fluffy :)

Summary: Remus feels you deserve a "normal" relationship, so James, Sirius, and Peter decide to do their best to make it feel almost normal.

A/N: My first Remus Lupin fic!! Let me know what you think!!

Remus Lupin wanted nothing more than to be normal. Well, normal by wizard standards, at least. He wanted the scars to go away, the years he’d aged to go back in time, and most of all, he wanted to stay human during a full moon. He wanted this for himself, of course, but he also wanted it for you. You were perfect, in his eyes, and he was… not. You were smart and pretty and kind and bubbly and creative and amazing, and he was a monster.

“What’re you wallowing about, Moony?” Sirius slung an arm around his shoulder.

Remus slunk away from him. “Nothing,” he muttered.

“C’mon, Moony,” James joined in. “You’re a rubbish liar.”

Remus scowled.

“He’s looking at (Y/N),” Peter noticed.

“Trouble in paradise?” James teased.

“Oh, don’t tease him, Padfoot,” Sirius said, his tone equally mocking. “He’s just wondering how he scored her.” He nudged Remus. “Isn’t that right, Moony?”

“Basically,” Remus mumbled.

“Oh, come on, Moony.” James changed his tone. “We were just taking the piss, mate.”

“Yeah,” Peter agreed. “You and (Y/N) are great together.”

“Whatever.” Remus buried his face in his book.

“What do you mean, ‘whatever’?” Sirius said. “You can’t really be insecure about your relationship.”

Remus slammed the book down. “What do you mean!? I don’t deserve her and you all know it. I know it. She’s- she’s amazing, and I’m…” He lowered his voice. “I’m a werewolf.”

“Come on, mate,” James tried to console him. “She doesn’t care about that.”

“Well, she should. What if I accidentally hurt her? Or- or kill her?” Remus sighed. “I wish I could just be normal. She deserves that. A normal boyfriend - a normal relationship.”

“What even is a normal relationship?” Sirius said. “Do you really think James and Lily have a ‘normal relationship’?”

“It’s more normal than me,” Remus argued. “James isn’t- James isn’t like me.”

James sighed. “Look. You’re not gonna have a normal relationship. But if it would really make you feel better, we can do our best to make it feel… almost normal.”

Remus frowned, looking up at his friends. “What do you mean, ‘almost normal’?”

“Take her on dates,” Sirius suggested.

“Normal dates,” Peter added.

“What does that even mean!?” Remus asked, exasperated.

“Go out to dinner,” James said. “That’s like, the most normal date ever, right?”

“I guess…” Remus said uncertainly. “I don’t really think this is gonna fix anything, though.”

“But it might,” Sirius said. He helped him up. “C’mon, it’s worth a try, right? You said you wanted a normal relationship.”

“Yeah, but I meant more like - “

“Let’s go,” James interrupted him. “We have a dinner date to plan.”

James, Sirius, and Peter set to work immediately. They cleaned the dorm, set up a table, and put a nice blanket that could serve as a tablecloth over it. Sirius then snuck into the kitchens while James and Peter set the table and put a pretty vase of roses in the center. Sirius came back with far more food than was needed - he insisted they needed snacks after their hard work.

“So, what do you think?” James asked after they finished.

“It’s really nice,” Remus said. “I just don’t think - “

A knock sounded on the door before he could finish his sentence. “Remus? Sirius said you needed me.”

“She’s already here!?” Remus hissed.

James and Sirius smiled devilishly and apparated away. Peter smiled apologetically and disappeared after them. Remus stared at the empty space his friends had previously occupied in horror.

“Remus?” you said. “Are you in there?”

“Uh, yeah, love!” Remus opened the door and smiled at you awkwardly.

You stepped in and gasped. “Did you do this, Remus?”

“Um…”

“Doesn’t seem like the kind of date you would want to go on,” you commented with a teasing smile. “You normally just want to read or study together in the library.”

“Yeah, well, um…” Remus flapped his hands uncomfortably. “Have a seat?” He pulled out a chair and it promptly fell over. He cringed.

You laughed. “You didn’t set this up, did you?”

“I- um- “ He frantically looked around the room as if searching for a way to escape.

“Remus.” You walked over to him. “I know you. Sirius and James set this up, didn’t they?”

He sighed, his shoulders slumping as he looked down in defeat. “Yes,” he mumbled.

“Why’d they plan this?” you asked. “I mean, it’s really nice, but it’s definitely not our style.”

Remus laughed, a little relieved. Then he remembered why they set up the dinner date and sobered immediately. “I… I was upset because I thought I wasn’t good enough for you. I kept saying that you deserved a normal boyfriend and a normal relationship and they thought this would help. They said a dinner date was the most normal relationship thing ever, so they set it all up. I’m sorry. You really do deserve better than a werewolf for a boyfriend, and no dumb dinner date is ever gonna change that.”

“Oh, Remus.” You pulled him into a hug and he buried his face in your neck. “I love you, okay? Lycanthropy and all. I don’t want a normal boyfriend or a normal relationship. I want you. You are the most incredible person I’ve ever met - you’re sweet and smart and caring and I love you so much. Don’t ever think of yourself as anything less than that, okay?”

Tears slipped down from his eyes, soaking your sweater, and he hugged you even more tightly. “I love you too, (Y/N).”

You kissed his head, releasing the hug and taking his hand instead. “Now, we’re not really gonna let all this food go to waste, are we?”

He let out a watery laugh, wiping away his tears. “Definitely not.”

The two of you sat down at the table, and as you ate and talked and laughed, Remus knew that your relationship would never be normal. Maybe not even almost normal. But it was perfect, and he loved it just the way it was.

[multifandom-gabi]

Memories - Andrew Garfield!Peter x Female!Reader

PART 2

A/N: some of this takes place before Far From Home, and I know MJ didn’t know about Peter, but she does in this! the rest of this takes place in No Way Home, so there will be spoilers! Also Gwen does not exist in TASM universe, the reader is basically Gwen :)

Andrew Garfield Peter = Peter (AG)

Words: 1.1k

Prompt: You’ve been stuck in a different universe for a while now. You seem to have no memory of where you came from. All you know is Dr. Strange has been trying to help you out, but he’s had no luck. You seem to lose hope, until one day, a familiar face comes through a portal.

——————————————————————————

You don’t even remember coming here. You woke up one day, surrounded by two boys and a girl, who looked around your age. It was scary, and confusing, and you honestly had no idea what was going on. You have no memory of where you came from, but somehow you knew this wasn’t your home. “Holy shit,” the girl above you said. “What the hell is going on?” you questioned.

There was a boy, who looked a little panicked. “My name is Peter, that’s MJ, and that’s Ned. We just saw you fall through a portal. Are you alright? You hit your head pretty bad.” He said, gesturing to his friends, and then kneeling down in front of you. Your head was throbbing. You looked around and noticed you were on top of some kind of building. “Portal?” you questioned, “like this is some kind of other dimension?”

“Well yea, pretty much. Can you not tell?” Ned, the other boy, asked. You could sense it, but you really couldn’t remember much, and especially not how you got here. You grabbed the side of your head and winced in pain. “I can’t remember how I got here.” You said, and all three of them looked at each other. “What’s your name?” MJ asked. “It’s y/n.” You replied, that much you could remember.

The next thing you know, they were helping you up and you were leaving the roof of what you now knew to be their school. “Where are we going?” you asked. “To a wizard’s house.” replied Ned, with no hesitation. “Ned!” MJ scolded. She was right to scold him, after all, they didn’t know you. “We’re going to someone who can help you get back home, wherever that may be.” replied Peter.

Ned wasn’t lying, you actually arrived at a wizard’s house. His name was Doctor Strange, or Steven as he kept telling Peter to call him. He could open portals, just like the one you fell through. It didn’t help him much, since you had no memory of where you came from. It frustrated you. He tried spell after spell, but nothing seemed to bring your memory back, or even give anyone a sign of where you came from. It frustrated you, nothing was working. It didn’t seem like you were making home, or remembering where home was, anytime soon.

——————————————————————————

Things have gone bad, really bad. The whole world found out Peter was Spider-man, thanks to Mysterio. Now, you’re sitting in Ned’s grandma’s apartment trying to find Peter. There were villains from multiple universes that were trying to kill him. Maybe they were from your universe, but you had no idea. You still couldn’t remember a thing.

MJ had a worried look on her face, you had never seen her this scared for Peter. “We’re going to find him.” You assured her, but in reality, you weren’t sure. “I just wish- I just wish we could see him.” Ned said. Across you them, you saw a spark in the air. “What was that?” You asked, but you’re almost certain you knew exactly what it was. “Ned, do that again.” MJ said.

“I just wish we could see him.” He said once again. This time, the sparks in the air formed a circle, but then disappeared again. You all stood up from the table. Ned looked at his hands and put them exactly how Doctor Strange would. “I just wish we could see Peter.” Ned once again said. This time, a portal formed in front of you. Inside it, you could see Peter off in the distance. Ned gasped and looked at his grandmother, “You’re right, I am magic.”

“Is that him?” questioned MJ. It looked like Spider-man, but he also looked a little different. He was taller than Peter, and the details on his suit looked different. “Peter!” Ned and MJ began yelling. You just stood there, something was happening, and you could fill it inside of you, but you didn’t know what.

Peter began running towards you all, and he jumped through the portal. You could immediately tell that this was not Peter standing in front of you, it was someone different. “Y/n?!” They asked, with surprise in their voice. Suddenly, he ripped his mask off, and you were unsure at what happened next.

Your mind was flooded with memories, and images of his boy in front of you. Ones laughing, crying, and even kissing. You saw him with the suit on, and in normal clothes, at school, in your house, swinging from buildings together. Holy crap, this is Peter Parker, your Peter Parker, and you are from his universe.

You honestly felt like you were about to black out, because it was a little overwhelming. You stumbled forward, and Peter (AG) caught you. He pulled you into a hug, and it was a tight one. It had been over a month since he has seen you, and he didn’t want to let you go. He missed feeling your warmth, and seeing your smile.

“Babe, let’s sit down.” He said as he led you over to the table. You both sat down. “Hold up let’s rewind a little bit. Babe?” MJ questioned. You smiled at him, eyes you missed staring into for the last month. “Ned, MJ, meet Peter Parker, from my universe” You said, letting his name roll off your lips.

“Wait, you remember!” Ned exclaimed. “You forgot?” Peter (AG) questioned. You grabbed his hand from underneath the table, and he brought it up and kissed it. “Yea, when I got here, I couldn’t remember anything. Not you, or where I came from. That’s why I’m still here, nothing worked, not even any spells.” You said, shrugging. “Wait spells? As in magic?” He asked, and you laughed but. “Yea, a lot of things are different here.” You replied.

“As much as I would love to sit here and talk, I believe I’m here for a reason.” Peter (AG) said. He squeezed your hand and stood up from the table. “Yea yea, we have to find Peter” MJ said, gesturing to Ned. Ned held out his hands once again and said, “Find Peter Parker.” A portal opened up behind him, and you stood up from the table beside Peter (AG).

A man stepped out from the portal, who was definitely not the Peter you were looking for. “Oh not again!” exclaimed Ned. This was going to be a long night.

——————————————————————————

Let me know guys if you want a part 2 with Peter (AG) and the reader going back home!!

[writingwitharlo]

Showing No Weakness

a/n: I know the title is kinda cheesy but it's the best i could come up with! Also tagging @nhasablogg and @ticklishraspberries bc i say so

anon's prompt: The friendgroup is hanging out and Nick and Charlie start teasing each other about their "weaknesses" and arrive at the weakness "ticklish" and then start arguing about whose weakness that is because obviously one person has to win. And after some back-and-forth their friends get fed up with their stubbornness and just tickle both of them, either to just shut them up or to establish who's more ticklish (your choice).

(Heartstopper; Nick/Charlie, Tao, Elle, Darcy)

1266 words

It was a silly game, really. Nobody could remember whose idea it had been in the first place and the longer they continued and the more they laughed and argued, the less it mattered. 

“Okay, okay. Uhm… Ooh, alright. The person most likely to get caught shoplifting.”

Eyes darted back and forth for a moment but quickly all fingers pointed to the blonde splayed out on Nick’s bed. 

“What?!”

“Oh, come on, Darcy,” Elle chuckled, lowering her hand to her lap again.

“I’ll have you know that my shoplifting skills are very much up to par.”

“Much experience with committing criminal offenses then?” Nick teased from the beanbag beside the bed, which he and Charlie had taken over.

“It’s okay, Nicholas. You can just say that you’re intimidated by me now.”

Nick rolled his head back with a laugh, his hand dropping to his chest.

Darcy shook her head and continued petting Nellie, who lay curled up on the bed quietly as she thought of a new scenario. She had managed to persuade the dog to join her when she had trotted into the room some time ago. Complaining about missing her absent girlfriend had apparently convinced Nellie and she had settled down beside Darcy happily.  “The person with the worst taste in music.”

Before Nick could even lift his hand, all fingers were pointed at him. “Hey!”

Charlie snorted and ruffled through the other’s hair as a gesture of consolation. “We love you, but all the good songs on your playlist you got from me.”

“What’s wrong with my songs?” he sulked half-heartedly. It was really hard to pretend to be offended when all he wanted was to lean further into Charlie’s touch.

“You’re joking, right?” Tao asked. “Because I’d say ‘basic’ might be too painfully accurate.”

“Wow,” Nick huffed but did a terrible job at covering the soft chuckle that stumbled out as well.

Charlie’s hand disappeared from his hair again. Rude. “Come on, your turn.” The younger boy nudged him impatiently with his leg.

“Alright, let me think.” There was a short pause

“Think faster,” Charlie pushed playfully, continuously knocking his knee against Nick’s.

“I can’t with yo-Oi!” A wiggling finger in his ear caused him to snap his shoulder upwards and grab the offending hand, pushing it away instantly.

Charlie giggled, watching Nick rub his ear against his shoulder. “Just checking if there’s anything in there.”

Nick glared at him with those playful eyes, grip still tight on his wrist. “Careful, Charles. You're treading on some very thin ice there.”

Charlie simply grinned back smugly. “Oh, I’m not that heavy, I think I’ll be alright.”

Raising an eyebrow, Nick tilted his head to the side slowly and Charlie could feel his face heat up, heart hammering in his chest. It wasn’t fair. Nick knew exactly what that look would do to him. “It’s okay,” Charlie started slowly, trying his best to sound non-chalant. “Thinking fast is just not your strong suit. We all have our weaknesses.”

“Didn’t know he had a death wish,” Elle casually whispered to Tao who nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, it was nice knowing him,” Tao replied and they both knew, if Isaac had been there, he would have probably chuckled at the statement.

Nick’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Well, at least my weakness isn’t digging a deeper hole for myself under pressure.”

“What hole? Because we both know your other great weakness is not being able to resist my sweet talk.”

“Oh, yeah? Don’t think your sweet talk will be able to hold up against that... ticklish weakness of yours.” Nick emphasized the word with a brief glance to Charlie’s neck which shot a giddy rush through the younger boy, heating his cheeks even more. 

“I- That’s-... You’re more ticklish!” The words stumbled out between anticipatory giggles as Charlie twisted his arm, finally ready to free it from Nick’s grip. He couldn’t help but draw his legs closer, even though Nick had not made any advancing moves... yet. 

“You sure about that?” Nick didn’t look convinced. Although, in reality, Charlie was probably right. Still. It was fun to mess with him, all flustered and stammering. It felt oddly reassuring to be one of the very few people who could put an end to that cheeky smart mouth of his.

“Yeah?... Yes! Don’t start denying it now, Nicholas.”

“Oh, my god. Enough!” Fed up by the ridiculous arguments being thrown back and forth, Tao shot forward from his spot on the floor. Either hand on a different knee, the arguing abruptly switched to surprised yelps and gasping laughs.

Both boys’ legs simultaneously jerked, bumping against each other clumsily. While Charlie desperately tried to pry Tao’s death grip from the sensitive joint with his now free hands, Nick resolved to wiggling his leg from side to side in hopes of dislodging him. Both methods, of course, proved to be utterly useless. 

"Now we're talking." Darcy reached for Nick's neck, pinching and squeezing at its crook as much as his scrunched up shoulders allowed. She had become increasingly enthusiastic about tickling her friends whenever the situation arose, making her a frightfully skilled component.

"No! You dick," Nick cried out, hands batting at hers. Maimed completely useless, he began slipping sideways off the bean bag towards the ground.

"Nonono," came Charlie's giddy voice from beside him. Nick wasn't sure what was happening, but Elle was no longer sat in the spot she had been a minute ago. "Traitors!"

"Oh, no. The only thing we're betraying is our patience for your incessant bickering," Tao replied matter-of-factly. His fingers were still very much glued in place.

Nick now lay partially on the ground, one arm trapped beneath his body. "Get off," he burst out, trying to sound threatening but the squeal that followed sort of ruined that for him.

His squirming had only brought him further into Darcy's reach, who was now hovering above him over the edge of the bed. With one hand still very much occupied at his neck, the other began happily prodding at the side of his chest, easily finding the more sensitive divots between his ribs.

Dissolving to frantic laughter, Nick’s hand gripped the nearest grabable item, which just so happened to be Charlie’s arm. “Make ‘em stop!”

"No!" Charlie replied to all of their surprise, moving his arm out of Nick's reach. He fell sideways into the now empty spot beside him, successfully evading Elle's devilish nails. "You deserve this." Stubbornness radiated from every giggly syllable and Nick could practically hear the smug look.

"Come on!" Darcy's fingers were hitting dangerous close to his armpit and he had to retract his arm, clamping it close to his side.

"No!"

"Either you two decide to call it a draw, or we keep going until we have a conclusive answer," Tao proposed diplomatically.

Immediately, overlapping pleas burst out of the boys. Nick's desperate sounds rang in Charlie's ear from somewhere beside his shoulder and something inside of him wished he was the one producing those sounds.

"That's what I thought." Fingers stilled. The buzz of laughter and giddy static died down gradually until all that was left was a set of huffing breaths.

Nick sat up with a groan and looked down at Charlie, all curled up and flushed. The younger boy's eyes fluttered open at the movement and a self-satisfied grin lit up his face as he met Nick's gaze. "Still think it's my weakness?"

"Don't even start," Nick grumbled with an unconvincing glare before letting his body fall on top of Charlie's, chuckling at the other's groan that followed.

[robininthelabyrinth]

I hope you get plenty of prompts that you enjoy. Thank you.

NMJ bonding with child Wangji. Maybe a few times NMJ beat little LWJ in a spar and the time he knew little Wangji would one day beat him. Mostly Pre Cloud Recesses arc?

Of Few Words - ao3

The first time Nie Mingjue met Lan Xichen’s little brother, he thought he would be just like Nie Huaisang, so he picked him up and threw him.

“Mingjue-xiong,” Lan Xichen gasped, clearly horrified. “What are you doing?”

Probably something forbidden by the rules, Nie Mingjue thought, and shrugged.

He wasn’t good with words, was too blunt and too direct, especially for the Lan sect, and so over the past couple of weeks or so that he’d been here he’d found it was easier not to speak at all. They’d make whatever assumptions they wanted about him, no matter what he did; it was easier to just let them do that and work with that than it was to futilely strive to get them to actually understand him.

“Even if Wangji has done something to upset you, you may only assign him to do copying,” Lan Xichen told him, and Nie Mingjue was briefly surprised that his new friend had assumed he was angry before he remembered that everyone here thought he was angry all the time, so it wasn’t actually that much of a surprise. “Please keep that in mind. Also, I don’t know if I’ve said, but he’s very reserved, so please don’t take offense if he just points things out...oh, I wish I wasn’t needed elsewhere this afternoon! I’d much rather show you around myself, but as it is, he’ll be showing you around this part of the Cloud Recesses in my place.”

Nie Mingjue grunted assent, and watched, a little desolately, as Lan Xichen disappeared down the still confusing twists and turns of the paths of the Cloud Recesses. It was all gardens here, carefully tended to maximize graceful tranquility, and he was sure he would have no chance of ever finding his way back on his own if left to it.

It wouldn’t surprise him in the slightest if he was. The other Lan disciples hadn’t really taken to him the way Lan Xichen had, much less a younger brother that the (rather reserved, by Nie Mingjue’s standards) Lan Xichen had described as reserved…

Unexpectedly, a small hand slipped into his own, and he looked down in surprise.

Lan Wangji looked up at him, his cheeks flushed a little red.

Nie Mingjue instinctively smiled at him, charmed by the reminder of Nie Huaisang, then remembered that too much exuberance seemed to only disturb the Lan sect and struggled to get his expression under control. He expected him to start leading him around the Cloud Recesses without another word – he had overheard Lan Qiren telling his father that Lan Wangji wasn’t much of a talker, very quiet, and to not expect much interaction with him – but to his surprise Lan Wangji did not move, looking at up at him thoughtfully, lips pursed as if he was considering saying something.

Nie Mingjue waited for his judgment.

“You weren’t angry,” Lan Wangji finally said. “When you threw me.”

Nie Mingjue blinked.

“No,” he admitted, breaking his own informal vow of silence. “I wasn’t. I thought you might enjoy it.”

Nie Huaisang loved being tossed around, whether up into the air or into bushes, headfirst shrieking into his bed or ass-first into a pool of water; he’d thought tossing little brothers around was what big brothers were there for. Sure, there was a small age gap – Lan Wangji was six, Nie Huaisang still not quite five – but he hadn’t thought it would make such a difference.

Lan Wangji hummed thoughtfully. He did not speak for another long while, but Nie Mingjue was starting to think that that was just him chewing over his thoughts before forming them into words.

At last, he spoke again: “I did.”

Nothing afterwards. Hesitantly, Nie Mingjue asked, “Would you like me to do it again?”

Lan Wangji nodded.

This time, Nie Mingjue was a little more cautious: he threw Lan Wangji up into the air and caught him, trying to demonstrate that he knew what he was doing, that he could be trusted, and by the third or fourth time Lan Wangji was smiling. It wasn’t quite on part with Nie Huaisang’s giggles and shrieks, but felt rewarding nevertheless.

Satisfied by his success, Nie Mingjue was about to put him down on the ground, but hesitated. “Do you want to ride on my shoulders?” he asked, and waited as Lan Wangji considered it.

“Another time,” Lan Wangji decided. “Not today.”

Nie Mingjue nodded and put him down. Lan Wangji took his hand once again and, this time, led him around the way he’d expected from the start, pointing out various places and naming them in a quiet murmur.

Lan Wangji really wasn’t much of a talker, a person of few words, but that was fine. So was Nie Mingjue.

-

It was a few days later that he came across Lan Wangji kneeling beside the training grounds and impulsively challenged him. He was getting bored of training alone: Lan Xichen was busy again, and the other Lan disciples had already made clear that they didn’t want to have anything to do with him, the interloper who’d pushed his way into their lessons by force.

It wasn’t actually like that at all – his father had sent Nie Mingjue to learn here for the season as a gesture of goodwill, wanting to support Lan Qiren’s lecture series and make it clear that other sects should follow suit, to encourage Lan Qiren’s goal of eventually creating a safe haven for all the Great Sect’s heirs to come together and learn and build friendships while still in their youth – but Nie Mingjue knew that there was no convincing any of his wary Lan sect peers of that. Even if there was, he certainly couldn’t do it, not with his clumsy tongue and scowling face and too-tall height that made everyone immediately assume he would resort to violence as his first and only argument.

So he trained alone and studied alone, or with Lan Xichen in the rare times when his friend was free, but it was boring, and anyway, he thought he’d gotten on pretty well with Lan Wangji the first time they’d met. It wouldn’t be a real spar, of course, not against a six-year-old, but doing the moves slow and mirroring a smaller opponent would force him to pay close attention to his own technique, which would pay off in the long run.

He explained this to Lan Wangji when the boy frowned up at him in what Nie Mingjue was starting to be able to identify as a silent question – he didn’t use many words himself, just spat out “Mirroring improves technique,” and saw that Lan Wangji understood the rest – and a moment later Lan Wangji nodded and rose to his feet, picking up one of the practice swords and taking a position opposite him on one of the fields.

Nie Mingjue started with a standard warm-up routine, unsure of Lan Wangji’s skills. Supposedly he was the opposite of Nie Huaisang in this respect, too, startlingly advanced for his age, but Lan Qiren had also said something about him pausing his sword training as a result of some incident, not specified; his father had nodded in response as if he’d understood, which was very unhelpful to the eavesdropping Nie Mingjue, who didn’t. Since he didn’t know the background of the incident or when Lan Wangji had picked up sword training again, and more to the point wasn’t inclined to ask since he knew that Lan Wangji wouldn’t enjoy explaining, he just started out with the basics and went up slowly from there.

It turned out his concerns were mostly unnecessary – Lan Wangji was a bit stiff at first, maybe because of the kneeling he’d been doing, but he clearly had the basics down flat, and they were able to progress to something a little more interesting quick enough, trading very slow swipes with saber and sword.

Nie Mingjue didn’t even notice that they had an audience until he heard Lan Xichen say his name in a strangled voice. He finished the follow-through of the move they were on, since stopping in the middle could be dangerous (not for them, not with training swords, but in the future, when it was real, and forming good habits now would help more later on), saluted Lan Wangji with his saber and was saluted in return, and then turned to look for his friend.

Lan Xichen was staring at them as if they’d turned into ghosts, and there was a whole crowd of Lan sect disciples standing around gawking at them instead of doing their own training.

Nie Mingjue hunched up his shoulders, assuming he’d somehow managed to do something wrong again, and automatically stepped in front of Lan Wangji, blocking the others’ views of him. “I challenged him,” he said bluntly, hoping to take the brunt of whatever punishment would need to be imposed here – generally speaking, he’d learned that the Lan sect’s penalties for being lured into misbehavior were less than the penalties for instigating it. “He didn’t seem otherwise occupied.”

“Wangji,” Lan Xichen said, or started to say, but Lan Wangji was already turning to put away his training sword. He then formally saluted his brother and trotted away from the training field entirely.

Lan Xichen watched him go without stopping him, then turned to Nie Mingjue. “Mingjue-xiong, how did you get him to fight you?”

Nie Mingjue blinked, confused. “I asked.”

“Yes, but – how?”

“I asked him to train with me,” Nie Mingjue said slowly, not sure if he was missing something. “I pointed out that mirroring improves technique. He probably did it as a favor to me…listen, do you need me to copy lines or something?”

“Copy lines?”

“For whatever rule I just broke,” Nie Mingjue clarified, but Lan Xichen only looked more confused. “Was it because he was kneeling and I interrupted him?”

Everyone is staring at me again and I don’t know why, again. Just tell me what it is that I did, impose the punishment, and I won’t do it again, I promise – but you need to tell me what it was that I did wrong first.

“Mingjue-xiong,” Lan Xichen said, staring at him even more strangely now. “You didn’t break any rules at all.”

That was even weirder. “But –”

“Wangji was kneeling because that’s what he always does during training hours,” Lan Xichen said. “He doesn’t train the sword anymore.”

“He – doesn’t?” Nie Mingjue asked, now even more confused, and in his confusion forgot that he was in the Lan sect with their carefully thought-out sentences and myriad of prickly unwritten rules. “Why not? He’s so good at it! And he seemed to be having a good time, too…listen, I know your sect prizes musical cultivation, Xichen, and that it’s often one or the other, but there’s really no reason he can’t do both.”

He belatedly realized he was talking too much and shut his mouth, embarrassed. He shouldn’t have brought up that subject.

After all, Qingheng-jun had been a sword cultivator with little interest in music beyond battle-songs  – still was, Nie Mingjue supposed, although he was in seclusion so much that it might as well be ‘had been’ – and Lan Qiren was an expert at musical cultivation, skilled in both xiao and guqin, but used his sword only to fly.  They’d been trained that way, complementary to each other’s strengths – Qingheng-jun the attacking hand, Lan Qiren the supporting arm – which was a pretty decent plan right up until it had all rather been ruined when Qingheng-jun had for whatever reason retreated from the world.

“Of course,” Lan Xichen echoed, and luckily he didn’t seem to notice the implied criticism. “He should, of course, if he wants to…Mingjue-xiong, I’m sorry, I have to go again, I need to talk to my uncle at once. But you should feel free to challenge Wangji again – in fact, I would appreciate it if you did. Liu-xiong, can you tell Mingjue-xiong what Wangji’s training hours are?”

One of the other Lan disciples nodded, and Lan Xichen flashed them both a thankful smile before disappearing again, even though he’d promised that his uncle only needed him for half a day and that they’d be able to go down to visit Caiyi Town that afternoon.

As a result, despite Lan Xichen’s assurances, Nie Mingjue still had the distinct feeling that he’d done something wrong, but he really couldn’t see what. Best not to think too much about it, he supposed.

-

By the afternoon, Nie Mingjue had retreated to the library to avoid being stared at. He’d thought that the indirect sneers and silent rigid politeness that invited no familiarity was bad, but apparently it was actively worse when the Lan sect disciples treated him like he’d just turned into a performing monkey that had done a neat trick. They still wouldn’t condescend to talk to him, of course, but they felt no issue staring or talking to each other about him – even though Nie Mingjue was sure there was a rule about not talking behind people’s backs.

Maybe it didn’t count if you did it in front of their faces.

Nie Mingjue actually rather liked the library, despite the Lan sect’s general tendency to treat him like an illiterate ape that only knew how to swing a saber – even Lan Xichen had looked a little puzzled the first time he’d asked to spend the afternoon there, though of course he hadn’t said anything out loud beyond reminding Nie Mingjue that they didn’t have to go there and that it wasn’t necessary to sacrifice his own enjoyment for Lan Xichen’s.

It wasn’t his friend’s fault that he was brought up to prefer those were gentle and scholarly, Nie Mingjue reminded himself, even if it chafed a little every time that Lan Xichen automatically sided with someone who could express themselves better, someone cleverer with words than he; that trait was common to just about everyone at the Cloud Recesses, and at least Lan Xichen would eventually listen to him if he kept his temper under control and persisted in trying to make his point.

Nie Mingjue might wish that the Lan sect didn’t view losing one’s temper as an automatic forfeit of the argument – do not succumb to rage had been whispered in his vicinity more times than he could count, though rarely to his face – and he might think in his heart of hearts think that they were simply wrong in dismissing his viewpoint just because he felt too strongly about a matter to contain himself, but he was a guest here and he needed to respect their ways, conform himself to their customs, even if it upset and disturbed him to do so.

At least sometimes those ways and customs served him, including in the deliberate air of quiet contemplation in the Library Pavilion. There were separate rooms for private study, of course, but an emphasis was put on preserving the tranquility of the location, and it seemed that the Lan disciples at least knew enough shame to avoid coming to gawk at him from the door when he was there.

Deciding to entertain himself, Nie Mingjue picked out several books on military strategy utilizing musical cultivation – just because he was all but tone-deaf didn’t mean he didn’t appreciate the power of the Lan sect’s core techniques – and settled down for a nice afternoon of being alone.

Until, of course, he wasn’t.

He was pretty absorbed in an analysis of altitude effects on range attacks for a while, deaf and blind to the outside world the way he usually was when he was reading, and then, perhaps alerted by some sound, he looked up to find that the sun had shifted position and also that Lan Wangji was sitting across from him with his own book primly laid out in front of him.

Nie Mingjue blinked and thought briefly about saying something. If it had been Nie Huaisang, he would have – some friendly jibe that Nie Huaisang would return in full measure, before they both settled down to enjoy each other’s company in communal silence – but this was Lan Wangji, who was a Lan, and probably wouldn’t appreciate it.

So he didn’t say anything, just looked back down at his book and continued reading.

After a little while, there was a tug at his sleeve.

Nie Mingjue looked up. Lan Wangji was pointing to one of the words in his book – “Frivolous,” he said, assuming that Lan Wangji was asking for assistance with the more complicated characters the way that Nie Huaisang would have, albeit with much less whining. “Means lacking purpose or value.”

Lan Wangji nodded, released his sleeve, and returned to his reading.

They carried on in this fashion for a while, quiet reading interspersed with occasional reading comprehension questions, and it was nice. Nie Mingjue could feel the stress of the day slowly sliding off his shoulders – more than just the day, maybe the whole week, the entire time he’d been here, or even before, when Nie Huaisang burst into tears at finding out his big brother was going to be leaving him behind. He would need to write to him again soon, Nie Mingjue thought to himself, and send presents; he’d been hoping to pick something up in Caiyi Town today, but then Lan Xichen had gotten busy…

It’d be nice if he could get him something from the Cloud Recesses itself, though.

“Wangji,” he said before he could stop himself. “What is a present you would get for someone who likes pretty things?”

Lan Wangji blinked up at him, then frowned. Nie Mingjue was pretty sure that it was a thinking frown, though, so he just waited, and sure enough Lan Wangji carefully closed his book and stood up.

“Flowers,” he said, and held out a hand as if to help Nie Mingjue up.

Nie Mingjue long ago learned that when a small child offers to help you, you accept regardless of whether or not they were actually capable of performing the action in question – though with Lan sect arm strength, who even knew – so he took Lan Wangji’s hand and scrambled up to his feet.

“Flowers?” he asked, a little dubiously. “I don’t know if they’d survive being sent by post.”

“Flower petals,” Lan Wangji clarified. “Pressed.”

Nie Mingjue blinked, but actually, no, that sounded perfect for Nie Huaisang. Especially if he got them pressed into a bookmark or something.

“My brother will love it,” he said enthusiastically. “Do you know where there are good flowers?” He knew himself well enough not to even try to make that sort of judgment call. “Can you show me?”

Lan Wangji frowned, and this one wasn’t his thinking frown – it seemed sad, almost.

“You don’t have to,” Nie Mingjue assured him, but Lan Wangji set his shoulders in a look of fierce six-year-old determination and he nodded as if he was going to go to war. “Really, if you don’t want to interrupt your reading –”

“The place is sad,” Lan Wangji said. “But it has the best flowers.”

Nie Mingjue frowned. He could tell from the way Lan Wangji’s little lips were firmed up in stubborn intent that there would be no stopping him, that he was determined to get Nie Mingjue the best flowers – truly, Lan Wangji was such a good boy, unlike that junior hellspawn and walking calamity named Nie Huaisang – but also that he thought it would hurt him to do so.

He didn’t want Lan Wangji to hurt.

“Do you want to ride on my shoulders this time?” Nie Mingjue asked, and Lan Wangji looked at him in surprise. He shrugged. “Sometimes having a different perspective on the same place makes it feel different.”

He knew he was butchering the explanation – he really wasn’t good with words – but he didn’t know how else to explain it.

He didn’t know how to explain that he used to spend days and days looking at the place where Nie Huaisang’s mother had gone in to give birth and never come back out, equally drawn and repulsed by it, right up until the day he climbed up the gate of the Unclean Realm on a dare and by coincidence happened to see it when he looked down from that great height, only to realize that the place he’d thought of as dark and depressing and even haunted was just a room like all the rooms right beside it: he couldn’t even tell it apart from the rest.

“…mn,” Lan Wangji said, sounding doubtful, but he hopped onto Nie Mingjue’s back when offered and scrambled up to sit on his shoulders, ducking his head to avoid the doorway to the Library Pavilion as they exited out the side door, and then he showed him the way to a nice looking cottage that seemed a little out of the way but which was surrounded by what were undoubtedly lovely purple gentians.

“Wow,” Nie Mingjue couldn’t help but say. “They’re very – purple.”

Lan Wangji poked him in the head.

“They are! Very purple. I’m sure Huaisang will love them to a ridiculous degree and that my father will write me angry letters about trying to sell him to the Jiang sect again –” There was a very small snort from above his head. “In my defense, he was really annoying when he was a colicky baby, and at the time I thought the Jiang sect were pirates.”

Another snort, this time less small. Somewhat disdainful.

“Listen, they’re ‘known for their watercraft’, right? It was a perfectly reasonable mistake to make…”

Lan Wangji didn’t giggle the way Nie Huaisang did when Nie Mingjue clowned around for him, but he was smiling by the time he edged onto a nearby tree branch to get a particular blossom that Nie Mingjue had set his heart on, declaring it the fattest of all the flowers and thereby a necessary acquisition, and in the end they collected a full basket of the purple flowers, more than enough for a dozen pressed bookmarks.

The smile made Nie Mingjue feel like he accomplished something.

It was almost enough, even, to let him brush off all the stares they got as they walked back together, side-by-side.

-

Nie Mingjue reported to Lan Qiren’s study with a great deal of trepidation.

It only got worse when he saw Lan Xichen sitting there as well, and when Lan Qiren instructed his nephew to serve them all tea. Nie Mingjue was abruptly seized by the fear that something terrible had happened: that he’d broken some unknown rule and needed to be punished severely, that he’d failed all his tests, that they’d decided he wasn’t actually a good fit for the Cloud Recesses after all, that his father had been summoned to take him back home early in disgrace –

“You’ve been spending some time with Wangji of late,” Lan Qiren said.

Nie Mingjue nodded.

“Yesterday, you presented the craftsman with a basket of purple gentians. Did Wangji show you where to find them?”

“Yes,” Nie Mingjue said cautiously. “He helped me pick them.”

Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen exchanged glances.

Nie Mingjue somehow felt even more nervous.

“Was I not supposed to take them?” he asked. “Wangji said they’re his mother’s favorites.”

Lan Xichen dropped his cup.

“Xichen,” Lan Qiren said sternly, and Lan Xichen apologized and quickly cleaned it up. Luckily the cup had not shattered. “Nie-gongzi, to confirm, Wangji told you that himself?”

Nie Mingjue nodded.

Lan Qiren stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Nie-gongzi…if I were to tell you that Wangji has not spoken to anyone in nearly six months, what would you say?”

Nie Mingjue blinked.

“He also hasn’t trained with the sword in that time,” Lan Xichen interjected.

Nie Mingjue opened his mouth, then closed it. He had no idea what to say.

“Our mother died,” Lan Xichen explained, his brow creased in misery and concern. “Wangji didn’t really understand…it took a long time before he understood that he couldn’t see her any more.”

“Oh,” Nie Mingjue said, feeling uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, Xichen.”

Now it was Lan Xichen’s turn to blink. “Sorry? For what?”

“For your loss? I mean, she was your mother, too, right?” It occurred to Nie Mingjue that she might not be, the way his mother and Nie Huaisang’s mother weren’t the same, but he was pretty sure the Lan sect only allowed for one marriage, and the age gap between Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji was smaller than the one between him and Nie Huaisang…

“Yes,” Lan Xichen said. “She – was. Thank you.”

Lan Qiren made a thoughtful sound.

“If you’re asking if I did something to convince Wangji to come with me and do all that,” Nie Mingjue said, having finally figured out why he was sitting here having tea and being uncomfortable, “I really didn’t. It may just be that enough time has passed for the wound to scab over.”

“Perhaps,” Lan Qiren said.

“I think he feels bad for me?” Nie Mingjue hazarded. “I’m not sure. I’m still learning how to understand him.”

“The fact that you’ve realized that there’s something there to understand puts you way ahead of most people,” Lan Xichen told him.

“Why would he feel bad for you?” Lan Qiren asked.

Because your sect is full of snobs that all hate me.

“Uh,” Nie Mingjue said. “I – have no idea.”

Lan Xichen frowned at him. “Mingjue-xiong, ‘do not tell lies’ is a rule.”

“So is ‘do not insult people’,” Nie Mingjue said sulkily, and refused to say another word no matter how many ways Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen asked. He’d already figured out that not talking was the best way to avoid getting into trouble – the Lan sect was much more insular than the Nie sect, with all sorts of restrictions about getting brought in, and he didn’t have any confidence that expressing grievances would result in anything other than more shunning.

Eventually, Lan Qiren dismissed him, frowning, and Lan Xichen escorted him back to his rooms.

“Is it because you don’t trust me?” he asked, and Nie Mingjue stared at him.

“What are you talking about?” he said. “Of course I trust you. You’re my friend.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me that there was something wrong?” Lan Xichen demanded. “And don’t say nothing’s wrong, that’s obviously a lie.”

“It’s because we’re friends,” Nie Mingjue said with a sigh. Most of the time, he forgot that there was an age gap between him and Lan Xichen – three and a half years, same as the gap between Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji – but sometimes it really hit home. “I don’t want to make trouble for you. This is just a place I’m staying for a little while, but you live here; after I go, we’ll still be friends, but you’ll still be stuck with whatever mess I make for you.”

Lan Xichen was scowling, his lower lip trembling a little, and Nie Mingjue cautiously reached out a hand to put on his shoulder, squeezing. He would prefer to give him a hug, but he didn’t know if it would be welcome – he’d already told Lan Xichen that he himself was always open for hugs, but he knew very well that Lan Xichen was uncomfortable with too much contact.

“It’s all right,” he said.

“No, it’s not,” Lan Xichen said. “Wangji noticed that you were unhappy, and I didn’t! What kind of friend am I?”

“You’re a good friend,” Nie Mingjue insisted. “You are. It’s not about you. I promise.”

They still hadn’t resolved it by the time Lan Xichen left him at his room. Nie Mingjue sighed, hoped that he hadn’t inadvertently ruined everything, and went to sleep.

The next morning, he woke up when the door to his room opened abruptly with a slam that seemed, in his sleep-fogged brain, to echo throughout the entire Cloud Recesses.

“Mingjue-xiong!”

“…Xichen?” Nie Mingjue said, and rubbed his eyes disbelievingly. “Did you just slam a door?”

It wasn’t really a slam. It was a small shove, at best.

“Why didn’t you tell me people were being mean to you?” Lan Xichen demanded, and Nie Mingjue stared at him. “I would’ve made them stop! Really, I would have! I don’t care if they’re Lan sect and you’re not, they shouldn’t be – I shouldn’t be – making assumptions about you or pushing you out or – or – or anything!”

“Where did you get all of this from?” Nie Mingjue asked, utterly at sea. He was right, of course, about the problems Nie Mingjue had been having, but he certainly hadn’t known it last night before curfew and while, yes, it was only morning by the standards of guest disciples and not Lan sect members themselves – he got an extra shichen to sleep in while he adjusted to the earlier schedule, of which he generally tried to use only half – it still seemed a little implausible that Lan Xichen had managed to puzzle all of that out overnight.

“Wangji!” Lan Xichen said, and threw himself on the bed next to Nie Mingjue and gave him a hug, a good proper one like the ones he used to get all the time back in Qinghe and which he missed rather terribly. “He actually came and talked to us! With words! Well, a few words, anyway, but he hasn’t said anything to Shifu or me for six months up until now. He said you were unhappy because of the other Lan disciples persisted in thinking that you were stupid and angry when you’re neither.”

Nie Mingjue felt warm inside.

“Your brother’s smart,” he said gruffly.

“He is,” Lan Xichen said. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like I also thought you were stupid and angry and nothing more than that. I know you’re not.”

“I didn’t think that,” Nie Mingjue said, and it was mostly not a lie. “We’re friends, aren’t we? A friend wouldn’t think that about another friend.”

“That’s right,” Lan Xichen said, nodding firmly. “And friends don’t let friends go around thinking they didn’t do anything when they did something big – I still don’t know what exactly you did, Mingjue-xiong, but you helped Wangji a lot, and I’m eternally grateful.”

“There’s no need for thanks between friends,” Nie Mingjue reminded him, the first rule of their friendship formed in the spaces between discussion conferences that neither of them had any choice but to attend, and Lan Xichen smiled.

“I know,” he said warmly, and Nie Mingjue felt warm in response. “But I’m going to abuse my privilege and ask you to keep spending time with him – with both of us, sometimes, but with him by yourself if you don’t mind – so I think you’re owed at least one ‘thanks’.”

“Oh, I see how it is,” Nie Mingjue said, grinning. “You just want a free babysitter, is that it?”

“It is not! Mingjue-xiong!”

Nie Mingjue started laughing. Lan Xichen smacked him – lightly by Lan standards, no doubt, but it was a good thing Nie Mingjue was as strong as he was.

“I don’t mind,” Nie Mingjue finally said. “I like your brother.”

Lan Xichen’s smile was as dazzling as the sun. “Good,” he said. “He likes you, too.”