#but can you imagine looking down a sword and seeing your uncle who helped raise you. how do you even BEGIN to process that

[queerofthedagger]

One thing I think about a lot is that when Nargothrond falls, it is heavily implied that as good as everyone perished or, if not, got captured. Like, unlike with the Fall of Doriath, there is no mention at all of any refugees removing to the Mouth of Sirion - and yet, I assume that is very likely where Celebrimbor, at least, went? I definitely think he would have fought, but clearly he survived and neither Doriath nor Gondolin really were an option for him, and I doubt even more that he would have gone back to his family.

And there are a lot of implications to all that, but maybe the one that keeps me up most is that this means he would have likely been there when the refugees of Doriath arrived, when they told of what his family did. That his father is dead. What would he have been thinking? What would the survivors of Doriath been thinking? Like, I know there were technically several different camps to some extent, but I doubt they would have been wholly separate, especially upon arrival. What kind of horror to find someone who looks just like one of those guys who just slaughtered your friends and family. What kind of horror to look like someone who just committed such horrors.

He also would have been there when the third kinslaying occurred, or at least very close to it. What an experience, to end up on the other side of it. To see exactly what might have become of him had he not foresworn his father years ago, and also to see yet again what became of his family. Like yeah, everything before/during the Nargothrond Disaster would have already been formative for him and his future choices, but I do feel even being in the vicinity of all of that would have been such a dire reinforcement of all those convictions and reasons that made him disavow them in the first place. And especially in terms of the third kinslaying, it's also why I personally really doubt that there is a chance at any kind of reconciliation with any of the brothers, whether it's his father or I don't know, Maedhros or Maglor. Like, I just don't think there is any coming back fromt hat, really, if there ever was.

[two-white-butterflies]

As Lovers Often Do - c.3

Description: Alyssa Strong was born to be Aemond's wife. As the dance occurs, certain consequences are levied upon her.

"An eye for an eye. A son for a son."

series masterlist | part two

"A mother's conscience." - Saera to Viserra and Daelon.

Saera takes a step forward, completely engrossed in the beauty of her daughter's painting. "How was your trip to Driftmark?" she asked while pressing a soft kiss to Alyssa's temple. "Perfect, as usual." she responded with a hum while mixing the paint in her canvas.

"You should've been born a Velaryon, my child." her mother breathed, content with watching her daughter paint. "Mayhaps my soul was switched at birth," she decided to follow along her mother's trail of thought. "When you grow older - I'll wed you to a lord with a castle near the shore." her mother promised, Alyssa couldn't help but smile.

In a world filled with mothers and fathers only wishing for political advancement - Saera was different. She wanted to give something that her children would be content with - if not happy. "Those days seem to be nearing us," she breathed, placing her paintbrush down.

She turns to look at her mother - a face that once held the youth of a maiden, now filled with the complexities of a mother. "Will you stay?" she inquired, not wanting to be alone in the den of vipers. "Kingslanding was never my home - and it is not yours." Saera responded, pressing a soft hand to her daughter's cheek.

"You can leave and return home - to Harrenhal or Dragonstone. It is your choice, Alyssa." she added, her hand settling on the swell of her stomach. "I'll have to return soon, your uncle insists that this babe is born under the roof of Dragonstone." Saera informed.

"This is my home. Kingslanding is my home." Alyssa corrected, inhaling her mother's scent of roses and white tea. "Then you must stay," her mother mused, her other hand holding into Alyssa's forearm. "- but if you ever change your mind, there is no place in the Seven Kingdoms that is not welcome to you." Saera smiled.

Alyssa carefully placed her earrings on. Mayhaps spending more time preparing would postpone her family's inevitable departure.

"Alys, can you please move faster?" her older brother groaned, opening the door slightly for Alyssa to hear his complaints. "Daegon, open that door again and I'll slam it on your toes." she threatened.

Oh, how she wanted to leave with her family - to enjoy the shores of Dragonstone or to meditate in the vast halls of Harrenhal; but someone had to guard the Red Keep. To advice her grandfather against the whispers of Otto Hightower.

"Dinner should've began an hour ago - the Queen is about to arrive and kepa says that he's not dealing with her bullshit." Daegon whispered in a hush-tone. Alyssa rolls her eyes.

How many times must she have dinner with her extended family?

"I'm ready!" she exited the door and he breathed a sigh of relief. "It only took a thousand years." he commented, prompting for her to flick the back of his neck.

"I was raised in Dragonstone - away from my parents and sister. I was surrounded by servants who listened to everything I commanded. One day, my Septa told me that my father sat on an iron-throne made with thousands of broken swords from Aegon's defeated enemies. I imagined what it would look like; I imagined a mighty throne - too high that I could only see my father's knees. A thousand was a big number for a girl that couldn't count past a hundred..." Saera whispered in her little brother's ears. Alyssa couldn't help but listen in to their conversation - her mother always had a way with her words.

"You told me that the Queen was already here." she stared accusingly at her brother and he answers with a shrug while shoving his face with pudding. "It seems like they wish for a dramatic entrance," he commented - half-angry that the others thought to let them wait. "- wait, are you anticipating the arrival of the Queen or her son?" Daegon's eyes narrowed and her face turned crimson red.

Why would she anticipate the arrival of Alicent's sons?

"I see them everyday, brother. I merely wish to start eating." she gritted her teeth - annoyed that Daegon sought to threaten her with a simple liking. The King clears his throat; "You may begin eating, if you wish - my child." he smiled at her and she sank in her seat.

Saera stops her story midway - earning a pout from Daeron. "It would be polite to wait for the Queen, father." Saera smiled and the King nodded - signalling for a servant to call Alicent. "I hope that you speak to your wife about punctuality, brother. Tis' not kind to keep her guests waiting." Daemon complained.

"- more so, now that your daughter is pregnant with our first child." The Rogue Prince added, offended that he was kept waiting. "Ziry gīmigon se gerpa hen zirȳla gaomon. (She knows the consequences of her actions.)" Daegon voices out and Daemon looks at him.

"Skoros gaomas bona nūmāzma? (What does that mean?)" Daemon raised an eyebrow - intrigued with his son's hypothesis. "Ziry daor māzis. (She's not coming.)" he scoffed - Viserys pretended to not listen into their conversation.

Alyssa pinches her brother's forearm.

"Is that why you're already eating?" her eyes narrowed and he hummed. Prince Daemon's posture shifts, coming into a realization. "If the good Queen Alicent is not coming, then we should begin our meal." he pieced the happenings together.

A scowl paints Alyssa's face.

"Bisa iksis ribazmoqitta. Are you going to let her do that, kepazma? (This is crazy)" Alyssa turned to look at her grandfather. All her life, she's been stepped upon by the Hightowers - treated like a second-class Targaryen for being sired by House Strong. It had to end.

"I will speak with Alicent, riña. I-I apologize for this." he spoke in a sickly tone. Saera took a deep breath; "It is alright, father. It would be best to enjoy our meal, now." she clasped her hands together.

"Jaes sagon sȳz. (Gods be good.)" Alyssa mumbled to herself.

After bidding her farewells - Alyssa decided to march into Aemond's chambers; she needed an explaination. Her hand grazes the wood - slowly beginning to knock. "Who is it?" she could hear his voice inquire. "Alyssa," she responds in an angry tone.

The door opens wide - and he stares her with that incredulous stare. He's been anticipating her arrival - that much, she can say. "You missed dinner." was the first thing that she said. He crosses his arms. "I did." he says matter of factly.

"Daegon tells me that you and your mother missed it on purpose." she accused and he chuckles. "And you are angry, because?" he waited until she expanded upon her feelings. "I am angry and offended. My mother who is heavy with a child was kept waiting for her arrival - only to understand that she'd never come." she frowned.

Aemond shakes his head, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"I apologize - but it was merely politics. The Queen was greatly offended with her dismissal of you and Aegon's engagement." he explained in a strangely neutral tone. "It was a wrong thing to do," Alyssa insists and he smiles bitterly.

"There are no right and wrong things in politics - things must be done to have a goal - whatever that may be." he bit his lower lip. Why was he explaining? "Goodnight, zaldrītsos." he took a step backward, closing the door firmly on her face.

Zaldrītsos, another nickname?

.

.

.

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[annachum]

Pov of Queen Amethyst of the Ars Goetia ( my OC of Stolas' mom ) :

Imagine being born and raised in a powerful Ducal household in Lust. Your household has strong associations with flowers and gemstones and Ozzie is one of your uncles.

At 7, you are suddenly formerly bethrothed to your future husband Paimon, after his former potential bethrothed ran off with a motorbike rake ( causing that other family to move to Tartarus yet luckily found her and bring her to safety ). You are apprehensive at first, yet even then you are committed to do your duty of the outcome predestined to you at such a young age. Your husband is 7 years older than you, so even though you 2 start off at good footing as friends/associates then, you sometimes wonder if you can truly grow to love him as you both grew up. Already 14, the next future King of rhe Ars Goetia is already growing very tall, skilled in his sword and astronomy studies, and you sometimes toddle beside him, being much shorter than he is even then

You did not see him that much in your teen years, as he becomes preoccupied with many campaigns and Quests since his 18th birthday. During your teen years, you find yourself submerged in your studies to become a true queen ( even tho you sometimes wonder if you are truly up to task for it ). And sometimes in your studies, you wonder how Paimon is doing all these years. Meanwhile, several other young lads of your age began to take an interest in you. You did try to get to know them better, but you find no real connection between them

Soon after he becomes new King of rhe Ars Goetia at 25, you turn 18. He and his brothers show up at your 18th birthday party, and he's grown much taller and buffer than you last met him. You both greeted each other with courtesy, talked a lot and danced often at your birthday party

You both soon began exchanging letters and hang out with each other's circles, eventually becoming closer and officially becoming a couple. He was as much of a passionate lover as he is a valiant warrior and erudite astronomer, and you take great joy in hearing his war stories he acquired over time. He became your knight in shining armor, and you became the lady of his dreams

A year after becoming official, you 2 got married when you were 19 and quickly becomes Queen of the Ars Goetia. At that point, you already embrace your destiny with dignity, and you are determined to do your duty you are raised in

8 children arrive - 6 sons and 2 daughters. All becoming so different to one another, yet each becoming disaster theatre people in different forms. Fearful that your children may become as threatened as your clan once was by a disgruntled ex suitor, whom your husband vanquished then, you and Paimon agreed to help set up potential arranged engagements with the children of your allies then

Fast forward to that divorce war, and it seems that everything you ever worked for began falling apart. Your youngest child, the one who looks most like you save male version, hid the abuse he endured from his ex wife ( who is also the daughter of one of your former allies ) all this time, those DiGalaxises, who were once allies of you and your husband, turned against you in a most unexpected way. Your youngest began affair with a certain imp, causing shock across the rest of the Goetias. Those DiGalaxises are determined to take away everything you and your husband worked for, and for the first time in a while, you and Paimon became at lost and don't know what to do .

As the divorce war roared, you began to be increasing frantic as ALL 8 of your children began to be endangered by those whom you and Paimon once trusted. You struggled with tea addiction and had difficulty sleep, and your dear husband tries his best to help you through it. But he began drinking more than ever, and you work to help tone down his drinking from stress....

And then one day, you received a most dreaded call - Octavia tried to off herself after Stella tried to threaten her to kill your youngest

Your husband heard it too and he began shedding silent tears while looking up the full moon. Despite the dread and panic, you held his hand while trying your best to calm the panic in the group call of your children and other Goetias in tow. You and Paimon even suggested to have Octavia brought in to your castle for extra safety until the whole mess is over. Reluctantly, Stolas agreed

Seeing more of Octavia again feels like revisiting your younger, more impressionable self all over again, and some parts of that gutted her while she still truly cares for Octavia. Things seem to fall apart around the Goetias, yet you and the rest of your factions are determined to go through this together. You held onto hope that things CAN get better in a long run

Fortunately, Octavia began to recover with help from you, Paimon and many others. Your children began closer to one another. And as Octavia is preparing to move to her own place to recollect herself after all that, you began reflecting on what may she be if she didn't become Queen of the Ars Goetia

She still loves Paimon and her children with all her heart. Yet at the news of Octavia planning to move out, you begin to wonder if there is more to the life you are raised to be predestined with. You will never trade for anything other than your Queenship, but what if there is something other than this?

You began to talk to Paimon about this....and even he began wondering about it too. In the end, you both agreed to stick it out till the end while pursuing some new pursuits outside of the royal duties you are both raised in

Sometimes it takes a younger cycle breaker to finally cause you to be honest yourself of the merits and faults in your parenting....even if you love your children so much, you are willing to risk your life for them

After all this madness, with Team Stella finally executed, you and Paimon began to try some new pursuits that you both never tried before. Some may seem ' rustic ' to you and your husband's tastes, but if your children and grandchildren like it and it's not harmful to them, of course that is more reason to give those new things a chance.

The divorce war really shook things up for the Ars Goetia. New reforms have to be implemented, and some things from the ancient ways must be changed.

There is much to be repaired across the 7 Rings after rhe divorce war, but Amethyst believed that the Goetias can recover from this, and gave extra encouragement to her factions that they CAN get through such an uncertain time. And gradually, with increased collaboration, that did happen.

[translations-by-aiimee]

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Chapter 6

Original Title:  二哈和他的白猫师尊

Genres: Drama, Romance, Tragedy, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 6 - This Venerable One's Shizun

Xue Meng had lived on Life-Death Peak since he was a child. He was familiar with shortcuts and terrain so he had no problem catching up with Mo Ran

He escorted him all the way to the back of the mountain. The back mountain of Life-Death Peak was the closest place to the ghost realm in the whole world, separated by an enchantment, behind it is the netherworld.

Looking at the miserable situation in the back mountain, Mo Ran immediately understood why that person was clearly at home, but still needed Madam Wang to treat guests in the front hall.

It wasn't that the man didn’t want to help, but he couldn’t step away--

The barrier of the ghost world was broken.

At this moment, the entire back mountain was filled with a heavy spiritual resentment. The ghosts that hadn't taken on a body howled and hovered bitterly in the air. At the entrance of the mountain gate, there was a giant breach ripping through the sky. Behind the breach was the ghost realm, and a tall, bluestone staircase stretching thousand of steps escaped from the barrier cracks. Seeing out from the staircase, the fierce spirits that had regained a flesh body were climbing down this step disorderly and chaotically, rushing from the underworld to the human world.

Any ordinary person would be terrified at the scene unfolding. The first time Mo Ran saw it, he was shocked to the bone, but he was used to it now.

The barrier between the human and ghost realms was set by Emperor Fuxi in ancient times. Today, it was very weak. It would grow weak spots every now and again, which need to be repaired by immortal cultivators. However, this kind of thing not only does little to improve one's cultivation but is thankless with how much spiritual energy it consumes. It was a real drudgery, so few immortals in the upper cultivation world were willing to take this job.

When a fierce spirit was born, the people of the Lower Cultivation Realm were the first to come under attack. As the protectors of the Lower Cultivation Realm, Life-Death Peak was forced to undertake the task of repairing the barrier. The back mountains of the sect faced the weakest point in the barrier all to ensure they could be repaired swiftly.

There would be breaks in the barrier about four or five times a year. It was just like an old, chipped pot; useless.

Now, at the entrance of the ghost world, on the long bluestone stairs, a man stood there with snow-coloured clothes and wide sleeves flowing in the wind. He was surrounded by the aura of his sword, the golden light shimmering. Using his own power to clear out the evil spirits and ghosts, he repaired the small holes appearing in the barrier.

The man had a slender waist and an elegant appearance, with a holy aura and a handsome face. From a distance, it was easy to imagine he was a scholar reading an ancient scroll under a flowering tree. However, looking closely, he had sharp eyebrows, phoenix eyes slanted upwards, and the bridge of his nose was straight and narrow. While he seemed to be gentle and elegant, his eyes were mean and seemingly unkind.

Mo Ran glanced at him from a distance. Although he thought he had prepared himself, when he saw this man appear in front of him alive and healthy again, it made him tremble down to his smallest bones.

Half fear, half. . . excitement.

His Shizun.

Chu Wanning.

This was the person that Xue Meng had cried and begged to see when he arrived at Wushan Hall in the previous life.

It was this man that ruined Mo Ran's ambition, ruined his plans, and was finally imprisoned and tortured to death by Mo Ran because of it.

Logically speaking, if Mo Ran had the chance to avenge himself and defeat the enemy that had blocked his progress.

The sea is wide and free for fish to swim in, the sky is high and the birds could fly endlessly, no one could reign him back anymore. At least, that's what Mo Ran thought.

However, that doesn't seem to be the case.

After his Shizun died, something else seemed to have been buried along with his hatred.

Mo Ran was not a man of culture and didn't recognize any other feeling than being evenly matched with a worthy opponent.

He only knows that here on out, he had no archenemies.

When Shizun was alive, he had been afraid, paranoid, and anxious. When he saw the willow vine in Shizun's hand, the hair on the back of his neck stood on up. He became just like a beaten mutt, just the sound of a wooden club slap caused his teeth to ache and legs to give out. Even his calf muscles would spasm from fear.

Later, when Shizun died, the person Mo Ran had feared the most was finally gone. Mo Ran felt that he had grown and matured, being able to finally commit this act of murdering his teacher.

Afterwards, when looking at the mortal realm, no one dared force him to kneel down, and no longer slapped himself in the face.

To celebrate, he opened the pear blossom white wine, sat on the roof, and drank wine all night.

That night, under the influence of alcohol, the scars that Shizun had inflicted on his back when he was a teenager seemed to feel hot and painful again.

At this moment, when he saw Shizun reappear in front of him, Mo Ran started, filled with hate and anger, but there was also a slight twinge of ecstasy.

Such an opponent, lost and now regained, how can he not please?

Chu Wanning ignored the two apprentices who broke into the back mountains and continued concentrating on fighting the scattered undead.

His facial features were elegant, his eyebrows are evenly long. His phoenix eyes were cast downwards, his cool demeanour powerful. Amidst the demonic air and blood rain, his expression had not changed. His face remained calm, as though he might sit down and burn incense or play the guqin at the moment.

However, such a gentle and beautiful man, at that moment, was holding an icy exorcism long sword dripping with red blood droplets. With a flick of his wide sleeve, the sword's energy sliced through the bluestone steps in an explosion. Crushed stones and bricks rolled down, cracking an immeasurable chasm from the gate all the way to the bottom of the mountain, splitting the staircase and its thousands of steps!

So ferocious.

How many years had it been since he had seen his Shizun's power?

This familiar and powerful dominance made Mo Ran lose all his strength. Shakily, he fell onto his knees with a thump.

It didn't take long for Chu Wanning to kill all the ghosts, and neatly fill in the holes in the barrier to the ghost world. After doing all this, he fell from mid-air and went over to Mo Ran and Xue Meng.

He first glanced at Mo Ran kneeling on the ground, and then raised his eyes to look at Xue Meng, his phoenix eyes holding a powerful chill.

"Causing trouble again?"

Mo Ran sucked in a breath.

Shizun had the ability to always correctly assume any situation.

Xue Meng: "Shizun, Mo Ran went down the mountain, committing the two crimes of stealing and prostitution. Please punish him accordingly, Shizun."

Chu Wanning was silent for a while, expressionless. He coldly remarked: "I know."

Mo Ran: ". . ."

Xue Meng: ". . ."

Both of them were a little confused. Then? Is that it?

However, just when Mo Ran thought tat he had gotten off lucky, he looked up at Chu Wanning and caught a a glimpse of a sharp golden light suddenly cutting through the air. There was a lightening-like crackling sound that slashed across Mo Ran's cheek!!

Drops of blood splashed everywhere!

The speed of that golden light was so fast, Mo Ran didn't even have a moment to close his eyes, let alone dodge it. The skin on his face was flayed open with a fierce pain.

Chu Wanning stood with his hands clasped behind his back, standing coldly in the chilling breeze of teh night air. The air was still filled with the foul aura of fierce spirits and ghosts mixed with the smell of human blood. It made the forbidden area of the back mountains appear even more eerie and terrifying.

In Chu Wanning's hand was a willow vine that had whipped Mo Ran. The vine was narrow and long, with green leaves sprouting from it, hanging down near the edge of his boots.

It was clearly sucha graceful object. Looking at it would have made people think of poems such as "Pliant is the the willow branch I gift to my beloved".

It's a pity that Chu Wanning was neither pliant or had a beloved.

The willow vine in his hand was actually a magic weapon named Tianwen. At this moment, Tianwen was glimmering with golden red light, piercing through the surrounding darkness, and also reflecting in the bottomless depths of Chu Wanning's eyes.

Chu Wanning pursed his lips, and said sensibly: "Mo Weiyu, you are so bold. Should I really not do something to discipline you?"

If this really was the fifteen-year old Mo Ran, he might not have taken this exclamation seriously, thinking that Shizun was just trying to scare him.

But after being reborn, Mo Weiyu had thoroughly experienced Shizun’s "control" with his blood in his previous life. He immediately felt the roots of his teeth ache and blood rushing to his head. His mouth was already moving, ready to deny everything and clear his name

"Shizun. . ." His cheek still bleeding, Mo Ran raised his eyes, staining them with a thin veil of tears. He knew that his current appearance must look extremely pitiful. "This disciple has never stolen. . . has never laid with a prostitute. . . why did Shizun listen to Xue Meng's words and strike me without even listening to my side of the story?"

". . ."

Mo Ran had two tricks to get out of trouble with his uncle. First, act cute. Second, pretend to be pitiful. Now he tried these out on Chu Wanning, trying to look so pitiful that tears almost fell from his eyes: "Is the disciple really so worthless in your eyes? Why doesn't Shizun even give me a chance to defend myself?"

Xue Meng stomped angrily next to him: "Mo Ran! You, you piece of shit! You truly are shameless! Sizun, don't listen to him, don't be fooled by this bastard! He really did steal! All the stolen goods are still on him!"

Chu Wanning looked through his eyelashes, his expression cold: "Mo Ran, you truly never stole?"

"Never."

". . . You should know the consequences of lying to me."

Mo Ran's arms were covered in goosebumps. How could he not know? But he still foolishly persisted: "Shizun, please!"

Chu Wanning raised his hand, and the shiny golden vine waved again, but this time he did not draw it on the face of Mo Ran. Instead, he used it to tightly bind Mo Ran.

This feeling was all too familiar. In addition to whipping people on the regular, the willow vine "Tianwen" has another function——

Chu Wanning stared at Mo Ran, who was held tightly in Tianwen's grasp, and asked again: "Have you never stolen?"

Suddenly, there was a familiar stabbing pain straight in Mo Ran's heart, as if a sharp fanged small snake had slid its way into his chest and was playing with his organs.

Accompanied by the severe pain was an irresistible temptation. Mo Ran couldn't help but open his mouth, his voice hoarse: "I. . . never. . . ah. . . !!!"

Tianwen's golden light seemed to pick up on his lies, glowing harder. The pain caused Mo Ran to break out in a cold sweat, but he still desperately resisted such torture.

This was Tianwen's second function: interrogation.

Once tied up by Tianwen, no one could lie. Whether it was a person or a ghost, dead or alive, Tianwen had a way of forcing them to speak and reveal the answer that Chu Wanning wanted to know.

In his last life, by relying on a strong cultivation base, there was only one person who had finally managed to keep a secret under Tianwen's influence.

That person was the person who had become the emperor of the mortal realm, Mo Weiyu.

After being reborn, Mo Ran had hoped he'd have a bit of luck, thinking that he would still be able to resist the forced interrogation of Tianwen. But after biting his lip for what felt like forever, with big beads of sweat dripping down over his dark eyebrows and full-body trembles, he finally bowed before Chu Wanning's boots in pain, gasping for breath.

"I. . . I. . . stole. . ."

The pain abruptly disappeared.

Mo Ran hadn't even caught his breath before Chu Wanning asked another question, his voice even colder than before.

"Did you commit debauchery?"

Smart people don't do stupid things. Since he hadn't been able to resist before, it was even more impossible now. This time, Mo Ran didn't even resist, and when the pain struck, he went so far to even shout: "Yes yes I did!!!! Shizun please! No more!"

Xue Meng's face turned blue at his side. He exclaimed with shock: "You, how can you. . . That Rong Jiu is a man, you actually. . ."

No one paid attention to him. As the golden light of Tianwen slowly dimmed, Mo Ran gasped for breath, his whole body was drenched as if he had just been fished from the water. His face was as white as paper, his lips still trembling, and he collapsed on the ground, unable to move.

Through sweaty eyelashes, he looked up at Chu Wanning's elegant figure, wearing a green jade crown and wide sleeves that fell to the floor.

A strong hatred suddenly surged into his heart - Chu Wanning! This Venerable One wasn't wrong in is treatment of you in his past life, that much is true!! Even after being reborn, the hatred still burns strong! Fuck all eighteen generations of your ancestors!!

Chu Wanning didn't know that this crafty disciple was going to fuck all eighteen generations of his ancestors. He stood there for a while with a sullen expression, and then said.

"Xue Meng."

Although Xue Meng knows that men were the popular choice among rich businessmen and wealthy households, and many people play with male prostitutes just for something new and not really because they liked men, he still couldn't digest it. After a while, he said: "Shizun, this disciple is here."

"Mo Ran went against the three mandates on corruption, debauchery, and deception. Take him to the Yan Luo Hall so he can repent. Bring him to the Platform of Righteousness and Evil tomorrow morning so that he receive a public punishment."

Xue Meng was startled: "What. . .? Public punishment?"

Public punishment means taking the disciples who have committed severe transgressions in front of the disciples of the whole school, in front of everyone, even the ladies in the dining hall, and punishing them for the crowd.

Utterly shameful.

It should be known that Mo Ran was a disciple of Life-Death Peak. Although the disciplinary measures in the school were strict, because of Mo Ran's special status - his uncle pitied him for losing his parents so young and was scavenging outside for fourteen years - he couldn't bear to punish Mo Ran. No matter what Mo Ran did, he would just get a small lecture in private, and he would be beaten.

But Shizun wouldn't even save the face of the sect leader. He wanted to take his precious nephew to the Platform of Righteousness and Evil and publicly punish and shame Young Master Mo in front of the entire sect. This was something even Xue Meng hadn't expected.

Mo Ran, however, wasn't surprised.

He lay on the ground with a sneer at the corner of his mouth.

How great and selfless his Shizun was.

Chu Wanning was truly cold-blooded. In his previous life, when Shi Mei died in front of him, Mo Ran cried and pleading, pulling on his clothes, kneeling on the ground and begging him for help.

But Chu Wanning turned a deaf ear.

And so his disciple had breathed his last breath before him, and even with Mo Ran crying his heart out next to him, Chu Wanning simply stood there and ignored his sobs.

Now all he was doing was putting him on the Platform of Righteousness and Evil to be dealt with before the public. There was nothing strange about this.

Mo Ran could only resent how weak his cultivation base was now. He couldn't peel off Chu Wanning's skin, rip out his nerves, drink his blood, can’t pull his hair back, can't insult him, can’t torture him and destroy his dignity, make him desire nothing but death. . .

He hadn't been able to hide the beast-like hatred in his eyes, and Chu Wanning picked up on it.

He faintly glanced at Mo Ran's face, a stoic expression on a gentle and elegant face.

"What are you thinking about?"

Fuck!

Tianwen hadn't been removed yet!

Mo Ran once again felt the vines tying him up, and his internal organs felt like they were about to be squeezed into mush. He yelled in pain, panting and roaring out the thoughts in his head——

"Chu Wanning, you think you're so refined! Watch me fuck you to death!"

No one made a sound.

Chu Wanning: ". . ."

Even Xue Meng was stunned: ". . ."

Tianwen suddenly retracted Chu Wanning's palm, turning into a small speck of golden light before disappearing altogether. Tianwen was made from the bones and blood of Chu Wanning and could appear when summoned and vanished at will.

Xue Meng's face was pale and he stuttered: "Shi-Shizun. . ."

Chu Wanning didn't say a word. His delicate black and slender eyelashes lowered, examining his palms for a while. Then, he raised his eyes, his face even, but his complexion even colder. He glared at Mo Ran with a gaze saying "this disciple deserves death", then said in a low voice:

"Tianwen is broken, I am going to go fix it."

Chu Wanning threw down these words, turned and left.

Xue Meng was kind of slow: "How could an immortal weapon like Tianwen be broken?"

Chu Wanning heard it, and glanced back at him with a look of "this disciple deserves death" as well. Xue Meng shuddered.

Mo Ran lay on the ground, half-dead, with a blank expression.

What he had been thinking really was looking for a way to fuck Chu Wanning to death. He knew that the Master Chu, who held titles like "Yuheng of the Night Sky, Beidou Immortal", had always paid attention to elegance and correctness, and he couldn't stand being stepped on by others, defiling him.

But he didn't want Chu Wanning to know that he was thinking that!

Mo Ran whimpered like a stray dog, covering his face.

Thinking of the look in Chu Wanning's eyes when he was leaving, he felt that he probably did not have long to wait until his death.

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Kiss me [P. C]

Prince Caspian x reader

Word counts: 2.6k

Warnings: I’m from Mexico so sorry for any misspelling or grammar. If you have any advice tells me!

N/A: I’ll post more Caspian stuff, in case you want to follow me :) (sorry for the scene and narrator changes I hope it's not tedious, haha)

"Run!" Caspian listened, and the peculiar talking animal did not have to repeat it.

Everything was happening so suddenly. First he had had to flee the castle from a threat he did not know existed, then he had found himself in the home of those strange creatures he thought extinct and was now running for his life from his own army.

The arrows on their crossbows soon arrived and the three had to dodge them as they advanced. Caspian advanced a couple more yards and then heard a scream.

"Oh, no”

"I'll go! The young man shouted, worried about the badger lying on the floor with an arrow stuck in his thigh. When he got to him the soldiers were close, so much so that his aim would not fail this time.

"Take it and run! It's more important than me!” the Narnian shouted, giving him the horn that hours earlier he had touched in the hope that something would happen. Why was it so important, anyway?

He watched the animal and then the troops. A panic attack invaded him and he adopted a grimace of terror. He didn't know what to do, he was trapped, he wouldn't save his friend, and he couldn't confront the men either.

Out of nowhere, the soldier leading the troops was defeated, wounded by a warrior who seemed invisible to human eyes. Caspian wasted no time, so he took trufflehunter in his arms from him to start running.

He kept advancing, with the little animal's complaining on his shoulder and suddenly heard the squeal of a horse. He turned completely frightened because he imagined it would not be difficult for that man to shoot and kill him, but when he watched the person on the beast it was not a uniform.

He was an extremely thin complexion warrior, but with his mouth covered in a cloth and a hood that prevented him from identifying him. He wore worn trousers and a shirt that looked like his, as well as a sword in his right hand with which he had already begun to hurt men. The few who tried to shoot him were in vain, for the invisible warrior seemed to know who wanted to hurt his companion and killed them before the arrows could rub him.

For a moment the presence of both mysterious figures was reassuring, but a second later he was already alarmed again.

If your uncle's men couldn't with them, what was waiting for him?

"Get him out of here!” he yelled at his other companion. He drew his sword and turned the other way, but was surprised to no longer see a single soldier. He frowned rather troubled, but out of nowhere the hooded warrior appeared to attack. He fell gracefully from his horse and pushed Caspian with his sword, causing him to fall from his back to the ground.

"Your last words?” he asked, pointing at his neck with the tip of the sword. Caspian was surprised to hear her voice, which looked not masculine at all. Did you look at the... person? That threatened him and swallowed scared-dead saliva. If his destiny was to die at the hands of the warrior in front of him, then he would.

But before sticking the sword around his neck, the warrior paid a little more attention to him and Caspian saw it pale. On his side appeared a small talking mouse with a sword, which encouraged him to kill the telmarine at once.

"You are a mouse" Caspian said, forgetting for a moment the swordsman in front of him.

"Very original to be your last words" he mocked, but Caspian was more focused on how the warrior's knees in front of him faltered and saw him stumble until he fell backwards.

He had fainted.

Caspian tried to get close but the mouse wouldn't let him. Instead he threatened him with the sword while running to help his companion. He took off his hood, cloth and that's when Caspian also felt him faint.

The warrior was a girl.

You opened your eyes and observed a beautiful field, one that definitely did not belong to the forest of Narnia in which you lived.

You were dreaming or, rather, remembering.

You looked at your clothes, smaller than you expected, and you knew what I remember it was. Actually, a very special one.

"Y/N!” somebody screamed behind you, with joy. When you turned, you saw a long-haired teenager running in your direction with a huge smile. “I found you! You're terrible at this game, if you don't mind me saying so" he murmured, smiling more as he stood in front of you. “What's the matter?”

"Caspian" you whispered gently. Despite the years you couldn't help but remember even a single detail of his face. His pale skin, his black hair up to his shoulders, his red lips and cheeks blushed by physical activity. You sighed with relief and threw yourself into his arms, feeling his scent. It smelled like gardenias and linen.

"Hey, I'm not going to forgive you, this victory no matter how mellow you are, you understand?” he said funny, but you didn't seem to want to say anything. You just wanted to hold on to him, you wanted to feel it close to you as much as possible.

At that point, after reliving so many times that moment, you no longer knew it was real and that it was a lie as to words, but the sensations never changed.

"Never leave me" you asked with a lump in your throat, feeling his hands sneak down your back until he held your waist

"Why would I?” he asked gently, near your ear.

"Just promise me, will you?" you whispered. You separated a little from him and both came face to face, with your noses barely rubbing. “Promise it.”

"Sure, I promise" he gasped. The words that came out of his mouth no longer mattered, but the feeling of your breath against his. “But again, why do you think I'd leave?”

"Because you already did" you murmured short, holding back tears.

"What do you mean...?”

"Kiss me" you demanded, taking the cloth from his shirt. You were a little aware that you had both kissed in that meadow when you were younger, but you weren't so sure it was exactly after you told him I'd abandoned you because you weren't even close to knowing it.

"What do you say?” Caspian asked in a trembling voice, but paying a little more attention to your lips. Without wasting time you pulled it a little towards you, feeling his breath get stuck in his throat.

You felt him respond to the kiss for a second, his lips velvety in contrast to yours, but the next second you opened your eyes and he was gone.

You were no longer in the beautiful meadow where your first kiss happened. You were in the woods, at night, alone.

You called him, yelled his name, but he never answered. You started crying and took a couple of steps just to bump into something heavy.

It was a lifeless body. He was...

"Caspian!” you screamed discouraged, waking up from the fading you had experienced.

When your eyes clear, you realized your feet didn't touch the floor and a couple of arms held you carefully.

"I'm here, calm down" someone whispered, hugging you more against him. When you saw the young man holding you, you let out a high-pitched cry and from the impression he dropped you against the moss on the floor. “Y/N! Are you ok? Did you hurt yourself?”

"You're not real!” you said raising your voice, sticking your back against a nearby tree. “You're not... you... Caspian is dead," you murmured frightenedly, watching the man squat and approaching with the intention of reassuring you a little.

"It's not like that, look at me. I'm here" he said kindly, holding one of your hands. “Come, feel my heart” carefully placed your hand, small compared to his, on the left side of his chest. “It's beating. I'm real, I'm here" he repeated, worried about your expression of terror.

"He told me you were dead.”

"I was told that you...” and he was silent, unable to complete the sentence. He never believed that lie, so he had never said it out loud. “How did you survive all this time?” He asked short.

"Do you know this telmarine?” Someone said beside him. You looked at the three creatures present and realized that Reepicheep was the one who had spoken.

"I..." you hesitated. What if it was all just another dream?

"She's a little shocked by the falls, give her space," trufflehunter said. You thanked internally for not having to answer questions.

"We have to go, we can't waste time" Nikabrik said now. You had a little trouble breathing.

"Can you walk?” Caspian asked, looking at you again. Damn, when was the last time you saw those bright eyes? now it seemed like an eternity. “Or I could charge you, if you like.”

"I can walk" you said quickly. You stood up and walked as far away from the man as possible, hoping that the emptiness in your stomach would also go away. Without waiting for an answer you started walking without a course and heard Caspian follow in your footsteps. Apparently your sword was no longer in place, but at a glance you noticed Caspian was wearing your belt.

"Where's my horse?" you asked worried. Caspian came over already took the opportunity to hold you by the waist.

"Calm down, he's fine" he said quietly, looking you in the eye again. “God, I can't take it anymore. Would it be too much trouble if we rested for a few minutes?” he asked the others, still holding you. “I want to talk to you alone," he continued, but now kinder.

"How do we know you're trustworthy?” Reepicheep asked, in an attempt to take care of his friend.

"It's all right. He's good, he'd never hurt me" you said in his direction to reassure him. And so it was, you couldn't blame Caspian for all the suffering you'd faced during those years. “I know a river near here, we can talk there" you said. Caspian nodded and let you go, waiting for you to guide him.

"Don't be late" Reepicheep warned, pointing the sword at you.

You started walking and Caspian followed you, both quietly for a few minutes. When you were far enough away, he came a little closer to you until his little finger grazed your hand. He wanted to take it, but he didn't have the courage to do it.

"So...”

"Why didn't you ever look for me?” you said by slowing down your footsteps, in your broken voice. “All this time I thought he was dead... I blamed myself for it, even did you ever look for me?”

"I did" he admitted. Now he did take your hand. “You don't know how long I've been touring every corner of the kingdom looking for you, but all in vain. I never imagined you'd be... well, here" he said. They were silent again until he asked. “Why did you say you blamed yourself? Why did you think I was dead in the first place?”

"Your uncle told me" you exclaimed tremblingly. “He found out about us. He said a woman like me would never be with her nephew. You were, you're an heir to the throne, and I'm just an ordinary girl. He forbade me to see you or swore I'd kill you. Days later he told me that you had received a letter that I never sent and also told me you were dead. That he'd blame me for it if I didn't run away from there. Your guards brought me here to die and... Reepicheep found me, then I met more Narnians and they welcomed me. They taught me everything I know and I in return began to protect the forest from the telmarines" you explained, looking down. “So many years thinking you were dead, Caspian. So many years I missed you and cried for you. I... God, I was just a kid when your uncle did that. If I'd known you were okay, I'd have looked for you" you finished, now you're in tears bathing your cheeks.

Caspian grabbed your chin and raised your face. He was crying too.

"My uncle told me you abandoned me. If it's any consolation, I never believed it. That's why I looked for you so long, because... I thought something very bad had happened to you. And I see I wasn't that wrong" he admitted followed by a sob.

When you saw he like this, you felt all the pain accumulated over those years bursting into you and breaking down in tears. Caspian hugged you against his chest and you cried together, expressing more in that embrace than with all the words of the world.

After a long time you felt a huge peace and even though you didn't know Caspian's reasons for being there, you didn't care anymore.

You didn't care because he was pursued by the guards or because it was in the hands of your friends. All you cared about was feeling his arms around you and the constant beat of his heart.

He was Caspian, after all, your Caspian.

"There's something I still don't believe, you know?” he began to say in a low tone.

"And what is it?” you also responded in a whisper, fearing altering the peace that surrounded them.

"You're better at riding and with the sword than I am. I don't know if I should be afraid for my life" he joked and forced you to smile broadly.

And then, no place for a smile came laughter of jubilation. Caspian didn't get it, but his chest swelled with love when he heard your laughter again.

"Caspian for God's sake you are alive! You're here with me... Are you ok. I didn't kill you.”

"Kill me? You are crazy?” he asked, worried, hunching a little to keep up with you. “You said it about me: ‘he would never hurt me’ And now I'm telling you; I know you could never hurt me in any way in life. On the contrary, you are the happiness that was taken from me and that I longed for. Here you are, in front of me and I can finally tell you that I loved you every day of your absence. There wasn't a single day when he didn't expect to see you again” he carefully placed his hand on your cheek and admired your face for a moment. “You're beautiful, you haven't changed a bit. You're still the love of my life" he finally expressed, tears filling it up another little bit.

"Kiss me" you said in a whisper, taking the collar of his silk shirt as at some point, when they were younger, you did.

Caspian wasted no time and took you by the waist to lift you up a little, forcing you to tangle your legs in his hip. He was very strong now, because with one hand you held by the thighs and with the other it caressed your cheek, unsure if your skin really felt as usual.

And finally, he kissed you.

He walked a few steps until your back collided with the trunk of a tree and he continued to kiss longer than you would have expected.

This time, when you opened your eyes, you saw a Caspian completely in love and with bright eyes full of life.

You weren't alone in the woods anymore. Now you finally had him.

[samstree]

The One with the Coastal Customs

Geraskier, 1.8k, Fluff, Crack, Secret Relationship, Kaer Morons at their best, humor, Jaskier takes one for the team

Inspired by Friends. Read on AO3

Breakfast at Kaer Morhen is full of chatter as always. With Ciri and Yennefer joining them a few days ago, loud arguing and laughter always fill those once empty halls.

Jaskier picks at the rye bread on his plate, not paying attention to Lambert’s clearly exaggerated monster story, though Ciri seems completely entranced, prompting him to go on with anticipation.

His mind is still full of last night’s visage of Geralt pressing him against the wooden door and kissing him senseless. The witcher had to come to his bedroom after everyone else turned in so no one noticed. After the whole mountain incident last year and Geralt’s following apology, they thought it wise to keep their blooming relationship in secret for a while.

Let’s not tell everyone in a rush. Geralt was the one who proposed the secrecy. Whatever we have here is ours, Jask. I don’t want them to interfere or mess it up. You are too important to me, He said. Besides, what could go wrong?

Jaskier, at the time, agreed to it whole-heartedly. The witcher was so sincere that day, his golden eyes flowing with adoration and vulnerability that Jaskier could not deny him anything.

Despite some inconveniences, Jaskier has to admit it does make things excitingly hot. He almost feels like a naughty student sneaking out of class to make out with a lover again.

Jaskier’s hand comes up to touch the skin on his neck, the same spot where Geralt nibbed and sucked gently last night and left him a sobbing mess. Next to him, Geralt catches his motion with a look before a faint smile quirks up the corner of his mouth.

“Grape juice?” the witcher passes him the pitcher with the most unaffected tone in the world but his other hand travels up Jaskier’s thigh teasingly.

He has to choke in a gasp.

“…and bam! The third wyvern drops dead.” Lambert ends the story proudly, “And that’s why I’m the best witcher at this table. You have a lot to learn from me, princess.”

Ciri giggles as Geralt and Eskel chime in to call out all the lies in that tale. The room erupts in jabs and loud arguments.

Yennefer is the only one who remains silent throughout the whole meal. Her violet gaze only falls on Jaskier once, piercing with intent, before looking away like nothing happened. Even though their exchanges are a lot more amicable these days, the sorceress tends not to acknowledge Jaskier’s existence very often.

From the corner of his eyes, Jaskier sees Vesemir leave for the library. The older witcher still has work for him to finish today.

“Right, duty calls.” With a screech of chair, Jaskier stands so he can leave too. “I’ll see you later.”

He rests his hand on Geralt’s shoulder and leans in for a kiss. Geralt’s lips taste like the sweetness of grape juice and Jaskier revels in it for a moment before pulling away.

Everyone at the table is staring at him.

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

Jaskier freezes on the spot, a million thoughts going through his mind. Is it time to announce it to the world? They are ready for everyone to know and get involved, aren’t they?

But with one look at Geralt, he abandons the thought. The witcher has gone pale, and stiff as a statue. Panic starts to creep into those beautiful honey eyes, so subtly anyone else would have missed it.

Geralt is not ready.

Jaskier swallows. Well, there’s nothing to it.

He turns to Eskel, who’s holding a spoon mid-air and studying him with confused surprise.

“Eskel. See you later too.” He cups the older witcher’s jaw and presses their lips together. Eskel, the sweet man, even holds on to his wrist by reflex. He ends it with a pop before going around the table, careful not to trip over a chair.

Lambert can only be described as dumbfounded when Jaskier leans in, and incredulous afterwards.

“Have a nice day, Lamb.”

Yennefer looks at him with the same scrutiny. Wait, why is she looking smug? Fuck, the mage is looking scarier than the day they met. This one he might regret the most later.

“My favorite witch. It’s so good to have you here.” Jaskier opens his arms dramatically before going in, the familiar lilac and gooseberries filling his senses. Oh, her lips are so much softer.

When he stands to straighten his doublet, the whole table is still looking at him in silence. Geralt is tense as a statue while Lambert’s mouth hangs slightly open.

“Right.” He pats Ciri on the back and runs away from the scene, keeping his footsteps as steady as possible.

 *

Ciri is the first one to break the silence.

“What the hell just happened?”

“Language.” Yennefer berates her, seemingly unfazed.

Geralt swallows a lump. If Jaskier is willing to go such length to keep the promise, he can try to look inconspicuous for a moment.

A blush is creeping up on Lambert’s face, but he tries to hide it with biting words. “Geralt, what the fuck is wrong with you bard?”

“Watch your language too.” Eskel’s voice is steady with amusement. “Why do you mind it so much anyway? He’s being friendly. It was nice.”

If Eskel wipes his lips casually with a pleased look, nobody mentions it.

“In what world is that friendly?” Lambert scowls.

“It’s –” Geralt clears his throat, “He went to the coast last year. In the south. Must have picked up some local customs. That’s…um…how they greet each other. In the south.”

Lambert stares at him. “Doesn’t feel southern to me.”

Geralt gulps down all the juice in his cup. When he puts it down, Yennefer is studying him like a predator might a prey.

“Interesting custom.” Her violet eyes sparkle with curiosity.

Geralt has never been more grateful for his witcher trials for allowing him to remain calm under extreme pressure. His heart still beats slowly without revealing anything.

They are fine as long as it doesn’t happen again.

 *

It happens again.

Jaskier sucks at Geralt’s lips with heated passion, drawing a soft moan out of the witcher. Neither of them pays any attention to the flurries of snow falling into the empty courtyard around them.

“I’ve missed you today.” He moves down to Geralt’s jawline, and then his neck. “Where’d you go?”

“Had to repair the wall at the back, or the whole keep crumbles.”

“Hmm. Should have let it.”

Jaskier captures those lips again just when he hears people entering the courtyard, and pushes Geralt away with force.

It’s too late.

Eskel and Lambert stare quizzically at Jaskier, their training swords in hand. Behind him, Ciri is also in full gears, ready for lessons. The way she tilts her head in bewilderment is such a spitting image of her dad.

“Well.” Jaskier pats Geralt on the bicep. “Thanks for helping me clean the stable. That’s…nice of you.”

Roach snorts in the stable behind them.

He walks towards Eskel and kisses him again, and then Lambert. Boy he’s just noticing how tall the younger witcher is. Jaskier has to tiptoe a little bit. “I’ll be off then.”

When he passes Ciri, the girl just moves out of the way like he’s the plague. “See you, uncle Jask!”

Jaskier nods at her, carrying himself as naturally as possible, and enters the building.

 *

The gwent is going great. It seems that Geralt is going to win again.

Jaskier yawns. He’ll never see the appeal of the game, so he just reaches over Lambert to grab the lute. Maybe a little practice will be good–

“Okay, bard. You need to cut it off.” Lambert stops Jaskier’s motion with a hand on his chest.

Jaskier blinks.

“I don’t care whatever–” Lambert gestures around Jaskier’s whole being. “– coastal customs you picked up from the south. It’s not…how we do things around here. We are not in the south and it’s fucking weird. So quit it.”

“Okay?” He blinks again.

“I know you like witchers more than the average man out there,” Eskel adds, “and you want to show us. I appreciate it, Jaskier, but it might not make us the most comfortable.”

“What now?” Jaskier looks around the room. Yennefer and Ciri are sitting by the fire with some magic book spread out between their knees, watching the situation unfold.

“Quit the kissing, bard.” Lambert scowls.

Eskel smiles politely. “Yeah, it’s best if you did.”

Oh.

Jaskier can see the two witchers are clearly not at ease. Lambert’s face is a ripe tomato and Eskel is acting way too formal with all the niceties.

“Okay. Of course.” Jaskier raises his hands in defeat. “I will stop assaulting you with the overly familiar foreign customs. Message received.”

“Thank the gods. It was disgusting.” Geralt deadpans.

Jaskier looks into those golden eyes he loves so much and wonders if he can express ‘I’m gonna put a pillow over your face tonight’ with a neural glare. The bastard only raises an eyebrow in challenge.

“If you do need to let it out somehow, Jaskier, maybe your friends at that fancy academy of yours are open to it.” Yennefer says, chill as the winter sky, “Or some of your lovers.”

Maybe Jaskier’s eyes are deceiving him, but he swears the sorceress glanced in Geralt’s direction when she said ‘lovers’.

The ladies resume their discussion about spells and magic, and the gwent game continues. Geralt does end up winning.

Jaskier plucks his lute, imagining a million ways for his witcher to make it up to him later.

Oh the sacrifices he has to make for this ridiculous man.

 *

“The sacrifices I have to make for you, my dear.” Jaskier rests his head on Geralt’s shoulder, cuddling up to his witcher’s warm body.

“What sacrifice? I thought you were enjoying it.”

“They are quite good kissers though, especially–” He cuts himself off. It’s best not to discuss your lover’s brothers that way, or ex-lover, for that matter.

“Then what are you moaning about?”

“But my reputation!” Jaskier protests, “My name will be tarnished forever. Jaskier – barker and molester of witchers. None of you will ever let me sing your heroism anymore.”

“Hmm. Don’t you forget about Yen.” Geralt’s voice rumbles deep in his chest.

“Oh yeah. I’m surprised she didn’t turn me into a toad on the spot.” He plays with Geralt’s long hair. “By the way – I just have this inking – do you think, perhaps, Yennefer might know? About us?”

“Oh she knows.”

Jaskier bolts upright, looking at Geralt incredulously.

“Since when?”

“The day she arrived?” Geralt guesses, “I’m sure she took one look at us and figured it out. It’s not my fault she’s so smart–”

Jaskier picks up a pillow and throws it at Geralt’s smug face.

“And you didn’t tell me?”

Geralt finally breaks out laughing. He catches the bard’s feral attack and pins him into the mattress. Jaskier’s angry little pout is too adorable Geralt has to kiss it away. Uninterrupted this time.

“Is it worth it though? All the sacrifices?” Geralt's breath ghosts over the skin at Jaskier's throat.

The bard only glares at him for a moment, before letting out a sigh long-sufferingly.

“For you, my dear. Always.” He pecks Geralt’s soft lips one more time. “As long as no one turns me into a toad.”

[gladerwolfstarkimagines]

Not just a soft princess - Azula x female reader imagine: Part One

Imagine being the earth king’s niece and princess of Ba Sing Se, who impresses Azula so much she decides to take you back to the fire nation with her...

Part two here

Part three here

Part four here

Part five here

Part six here

Azula’s POV

Here in the supposed “greatest” city in all the earth kingdom Azula had to admit she wasn’t impressed. The cities defences were abysmal, the whole population naively ignorant to the war and the poor were sickly and weak while the rich pompous and frail. The whole city was the opposite of fire nation efficiency but there were two things Azula admired; the dai li and you, coincidentally the two intertwined. 

You weren’t a dai li agent yourself, Azula supposed your title didn’t permit it, but you did train with them all regularly and Azula had seen first hand your skills.  When she arrived as a kyoshi warrior with Mai and Ty lee the earth king was only too eager to bring you out to show them. Azula supposed you’d be some helpless stereotypical princess but when you appeared before her she was surprised. Firstly because of how you were dressed. She figured you’d look like that god awful doll her uncle sent her as a child but there was not a skirt or dress in sight. You were in practical training clothes, your hair in messy plaits and your face gleaming with sweat from whatever physical activity you’d evidently just been doing. You certainly didn’t dress as she expected but you still looked like a princess to her. You had an easy appeal and noticeability that could only be royalty. Azula bowed to you with surprising ease. “This is y/n my niece and the jewel of the earth kingdom” the earth king declared happily. Azula resisted the urge to roll her eyes at his comment but saw everyone in the room was watching you fondly. All the guards smiled as you laughed and their eyes softened looking at you as a father would a daughter, The whole elite force was smitten with you and Azula was determined to use that. 

The earth king too her on a tour of the kingdom and Azula kept an eye on you as you followed along too. You started talking to Mai and Ty lee and she couldn’t believe she’d gotten the old king while they got you. When you reached a large yard however she was surprised to see you excuse yourself from Mai and Ty lee and rush to the soldiers down below. “Ahh we can’t kept that girl from the sparring yard, it’s her second home”. Azula watched the soldiers reactions to you and knew the earth king was telling the truth. “Y/n...” Azula said carefully “she trains with the dai li often...despite her title?” Azula asked. The earth king nodded “yes, ever since she was a child she wanted to learn, her parents were tragically killed when she was young so she came to me and infant and i’m ashamed to admit we indulged her in any hobby she wanted, archery, sword fighting, ostrichhorse riding and of course earth bending...I know they’re not usual activities a princess indulges in but I couldn’t say no to her and now she’s the best earth bender in Ba Sing Sei, just watch and you’ll see”. Azula followed his gaze to where you stood joking with a group of dai li agents. Four of you were stood in a square all armed and ready to spar. You were clearly confident and while the others took defensive positions you just carried on joking around. A bell was rung and Azula frowned as the three men all turned to you. “Three on one?” Azula asked and the earth king laughed “that’s nothing for my niece, watch”. Azula did watch as you tossed the men aside easily with your bending, so easily you showboated and took your time using flashy strikes to please the crowd that had gathered to watch. Azula had to smirk at you cockiness, you were good and apparently you knew it. “She is talented” Azula nodded as you finally showed mercy and eliminated the last man. “She’s the earth kingdom’s pride and joy” the earth king smiled and Azula realised the king wasn’t exaggerating. Long feng didn’t run Ba Sing Sei nor did the earth king...the key to the kingdom was you and Azula was determined to get you. 

So Azula’s plan started to revolve around you and she considered her options. There were easy ways to get your support of course, she knew she could challenge you to a fight. She’d watched you in closely in training and admired your form but growing up adored and protected by half the kingdom she doubted you’d actually have the killer instinct in battle. So overpowering you would be easy but Azula had a feeling fear wouldn’t work here. The people seemed so loyal to you, even if the odds were stacked against them they’d fight to defend you. So using force wouldn’t make the city bend so Azula had one option. She had to get you on side.

Your POV

You were just about to go meet with the war council when there was knock on your door. You opened it and were pleasantly surprised to see it was the leader of the kyoshi warriors. The warriors had been here several days now and they interested you greatly but with training and war councils you hadn’t got much time to speak to them so it was nice to see one of them in your doorway. You bowed and let her into your room a little excited and flushed, a real kyoshi warrior was in your room! “What can I do for you?” you asked happy to assist a warrior in any way but the girl’s response was not what you were expecting. 

“You war council is doomed to fail”. When you paused in shock the warrior smiled “that is where you were going isn’t it? Same time every day...your schedule is easy to pinpoint, you should be cautious of that princess”. Her tone confused you but you ignored her comment and focused on what she’d said about the war “how is the council doomed? We have the avatar on our side!”. “Yes but he’s not here right now is he? What if the fire nation attacked? How would you defend yourself?”. “Well we’d....the dai li are amazing benders, they’d defend against any breach...but there’s no point worrying about the fire nation we’d know if an army was outside our gates”. “What if they’re already inside?”. The kyoshi warrior was really creeping you out and you couldn’t understand why she was saying all this to you. Frustrated you sighed “Why are you saying all this it’s not like any of it is true. If you have concerns we can raise them at the war meeting”. “It’s too late for that” the warrior smirked and you rolled your eyes utterly done with this awkward encounter “and why is that?”. "Because i am Azula, princess of the fire nation and i’m here to conquer your city". 

Azula’s POV

Azula was impressed, not even a second after she’d finished speaking you attacked her and not to capture her...maybe you did have the killer instinct...but Azula was better. She easily outmanoeuvred your attacks, her theory about you never having been in a proper lethal fight proving to be true, and returned the fire. Literally. You soon has to use your earth bending for defence and that gave Azula the chance to attack, exactly what she did best. Azula had you cornered and secured within minutes. You glared as she chained your hands and stepped away from you surveying her work. "So what i’m the fire nation’s prisoner now?” you yelled once you realised the chain wouldn’t budge. “I won’t comply so you may as well silence me properly and be done with it" you spat. The look in your eye was so sharp it impressed Azula and she smiled, not just a soft princess at all. "No, you're more use to me alive" she said simply. "How?" you asked and Azula’s smile grew. She walked around you, a shark circling it’s prey, admiring the catch she’d caught. "I’ll be honest, your dai li have impressed me. Their skill and efficiency. Their determination....all qualities they seem to have taught you and that is why they are so protective over you but they are flawed...they listen to long feng". “Impossible! we arrested him after the avatar exposed his treachery”. “For someone so cocky you aren’t half naive” Azula smirked “of course long feng is not done, I actually made a deal with him directly to take your city”. Azula smiled as your anger exploded and you struggled against the chains to attack her. “Calm down” she smiled "they obey long feng but that’s not who they are loyal too....that’s where you come in. The army is loyal to you, they all adore you and who would do anything for you, they follow long feng but he’s just the figure head, it’s you they really fight for. You're their leader not the earth king and if you ordered them to stand down or even....to defect to the fire nation. They’d listen".

Your POV

"Why on earth would i do that! There’s no way i’d ever help you or betray my people". "Well princess it’s more complicated than that” Azula smirked coming closer. “As soon as i have the dai li it’s over. I could keep you out of the way long enough to use long feng to get them...sure some of them might resist but i’m sure long feng with put them down, then I will put him down. I could conquer Ba Sing Sei the old fashioned way, with blood and infighting or you can help me take it peacefully. You can order them to swear loyalty to me and it will all be over. If you refuse many will die but the result will be the same, i will win. You can choose to save your people and prevent all that. If you side with me and tell your citizens not to resist then i will be merciful. No violence needs to occur, no more blood will be shed. It will be a peaceful take over...unless you make it otherwise". "Peaceful?" You asked "since when have the fire nation been merciful". "We’re not" Azula admitted "but for you I can make the exception...or you can see fire nation ferocity at it’s worst....it’s down to you". You thought it over thinking of everything that would erupt if you resisted. "You have my word, princess to princess, if you get your people to obey nobody will be harmed. You won’t be harmed. I promise" Azula told you, her voice smooth like silk. You looked up and met the princess’s glowing eyes. They were scarily focused and bright but they weren’t deceitful. She meant what she said, If you agreed she wouldn’t attack your people, nobody would die. So you hung your head and sighed “I accept your deal, I will make my people cooperate and defect to the fire nation”. Azula smiled and let you out of the handcuffs “well there’s no time like the present”.

Azula’s POV

Azula was in an amazing mood as she walked to the throne room, Mai Ty lee and you beside her. You walked infront where she could keep an eye on you and Mai and Ty lee looked at her, “did she....is it done?” Ty lee whispered and Azula smiled “the princess is mine...now for the army and then the kingdom”. 

Azula entered the throne room alone and almost smirked to see long feng stood by the throne. “Princess Azula” he smiled patronisingly “your plan worked, the city is mine”. “Yours?” Azula asked and Long feng grinned “sorry to double cross you but i’m sure you understand...you’d have done the same thing if you were smart enough to think of it”. Azula resisted the urge to smile and looked at the man “ow? So you think I am without a plan? That I have been beaten?”. “Well of course you have! I have the army and so I have Ba sing sei”. “But what if you didn’t have the army?” Azula asked smiling. Long feng stared “Of course I have them! My men are loyal to me, I’ve trained them from when they were boys...why on earth would they side with you a stranger and an outsider over me?” Long Feng sneered and Azula smirked. “Because of her”. 

Your POV

On cue you walked out from behind her and Azula smirked to see Long Feng jolt in surprise. “Princess....” he stammered “I...this woman isn’t a kyoshi warrior she’s from the fire nation! She’s here to attack us!”. “I know who she is but she is not the threat here, you are”. Azula smiled at you approvingly. In order for the dai li to believe you, you had to pretend you and Azula were allies, you had to remove long feng and leave no doubt in the soldiers mind who the enemy was. “You kept the war a secret for years! You put me and my uncle in danger our whole lives, Azula has been honest with me and she’s offered me a deal, no harm will come to Ba Sing Sei, as long as we surrender to the fire nation”. “You cannot be serious?” Long feng cried but you raised a hand cutting him off “it’s your recklessness that has brought us here i’m merely saving the lives of my people! Azula’s alliance will protect everyone, none of you have to put your lives at risk” you said loudly addressing the dai li directly “so put down your weapons, swear allegiance to me through Azula and this will all be over”. Silence settled and Long feng smirked “you stupid child...” when a loud clatter of weapons being dropped cut him off. Every single dai li agent dropped their weapons and bowed. “We swear out allegiance” they said in unison and Azula smiled “perfect, your first order....arrest long feng”. The soldiers looked to you and you nodded your head. Immediately Long feng was seized and brought to your feet. Azula looked at you and you knew what she wanted you to say “put him in the deepest cell we have and let him rot”. Azula smirked as the guards filed out, you went to follow but the princess caught your arm “not so fast I have a task for you, it’s time to address your city”. 

"The fire nation has conquered Ba Sing Sei but there is no need to be fearful" you said to the large crowd so many scared and confused faces you struggled to carry on but you had to. You gripped the piece of paper tighter and carried on. "Their only wish is to assimilate our great city into their empire and i have been assured our cooperation will make the transition safe and swift. The fire nation are not to be feared, i am allied with them as are the dai li. You have nothing to fear. Rejoice the fire nation" you finished and Azula nodded "good, we will leave for the fire nation immediately”. “We’ll....i’ll be what?”. “Well you didn’t think I’d let you stay here did you?”. “But I...I gave you my word”. “And as sweet as that is I’m not stupid leaving you here in your city...well that’d give anyone ideas about a rebellion, no you will come back to the fire nation with me as will the dai li”. “For how long?” you asked and Azula shrugged “who cares? Your uncle escaped his cell and disappeared with the avatar, they left you. Your army is in service to me and your city isn’t yours anymore....what do you have worth staying here?”. You looked down and Azula smiled thinking she’d broken you but she was wrong. 

You were surprisingly unwatched after they put you onto the airship. Probably because there wasn’t any earth for you to bend but you didn’t need earth for what you planned to do. You snook past the people on the deck, quickly rushing away as you saw the prince and one of Azula’s friends stood there. You caught your breath thankful they hadn’t seen you and carried on. Azula’s chambers were also surprisingly unguarded but you weren’t too shocked. Azula was probably so happy with her victory nothing could make her feel mortal. You planned to change that. You let yourself into her room quietly and gripped the dagger in your right hand. You shut the door without making a sound and waited for your eyes to adjust. You made out Azula’s bed and a figure in it. You carefully crossed the room and came to stand beside it, the princess was snoring softly and you lifted your hand with the knife. You brought your hand down when suddenly a hand shot up and gripped your wrist. Another hand shot out and punched you in the stomach and the knife clattered to the floor. You pulled yourself away and scrambled after it. “Seeing as you can’t bend I won’t either” Azula called before following you. She grabbed one of your legs but you kicked out hard and caught her. She made a noise of pain and you gripped the knife. You dove on her without a thought and aimed for where would cause the most damage. Azula caught your knife with a piece of cloth and twirled it out of your hand sending it flying across the room. You followed it with your eyes and in that second Azula slammed you down onto the floor hard. You hit your head and breathed haggardly, the wind knocked out of you. Azula bound your hands and searched you for any more knives “just the one?” she laughed “not a good assassin...but I have to admit I am pleased you tried to kill me” she smirked. “You’re pleased?” you asked confused and Azula nodded “it proves what i suspected...you’re brave and head strong, you have fire” she smiled poking you hard in the chest “i like that”. “Is that why you decided to bring me to the fire nation, you think i’ll fit in?”. Azula smirked “no you’ll definitely stand out but you’ll be interesting”. Azula got off you and stood up straightened her tunic. She drew open the curtains and looked out. “Come here” she said and when you glared at her she smirked “don’t you want to see the fire nation?”. That did peak your interest and so, your ego and body bruised, you carefully got up and came to stand beside the princess. The sun was just rising and a massive city was coming into focus. The city was still a fair distance away but you could easily make out a large extravagant building. “Is that the...”. “The palace?” Azula smirked “your new home”. The way she said it made you shiver but not just in fear, it was also in anticipation. You weren’t sure how but you could feel that this was where your life would be determined. You’d always known you weren’t meant to live sheltered in Ba Sing Sei forever and this was the confirmation. This would change your life. 

[ships4you]

flames & deception {zuko}

Request: Heyoo!! Can I request a zuko x reader where Zuko and y/n get into a fight, and Zuko accidentally burns y/n? But instead of y/n getting mad at Zuko, y/n forgives him, kinda like the scene where Zuko and Iroh reunite? Ty!! ❤️❤️❤️(It can be either headcanon, imagine, whatever you’re the most comfortable with!) (*´ω｀*)

Pairing: Zuko x Earth Kingdom!Reader

Prompt: After setting Appa free Zuko has a nasty fever that leaves him sick in bed for days on end. While the reader is watching over a sleeping Zuko he has a nightmare, causing him to accidentally hurt the reader.

I’m such a sucker for againsty Zuko😻

“You know I saw a wanted poster for the blue spirit the other day.”

Lee ignored your comment, continuing to pace around his apartment above Mushi’s tea shop.

“You do know what that means, right? If someone spots you they’ll send guards after you. Or even worse; the Dai Li.”

You’ve been dating Lee for about two months now. Even though you didn’t know much about his past, he seemed to be very open and comfortable with you. A couple weeks into the relationship he told you about his evening excursions as the ‘Blue Spirit’. It never bothered you, but after climbing through your window one night all bloody and cut up from a fight, you couldn’t help but worry about your boyfriend.

“Do you hear what I’m saying?!” you raised your voice, annoyed at his I-could-care-less attitude. “Yes.” he responded dryly, slipping his swords into its sheath. You sighed and marched up to him, placing your hands on his chest. “Lee…” you said rubbing your thumbs in circles against his black skin-tight suit, “I just want you to be safe… Please, isn’t there another way?” you reached up to brush his hair out of his face. Before you could reach the black locks he grabbed your wrist tightly.

“You wouldn’t understand.” He lowered your wrist back down to your side, “I have to do this.”

This made you furious. “Oh of course!” you seethed through your teeth, “Of course I wouldn’t understand! You know not everything can be fixed with this little ‘hero’ act you have going on. Am I just not supposed to worry about you anymore?!” you yelled at him.

“Yes (y/n)! You don’t know me! You don’t know the things I’ve been through, the shitty things I have done. Hell, the shitty things I am going to do! You only care because you think I am this wounded, helpless creature, but guess what? I’m. Not. I’ve been on my own for years now and I don’t need you telling what I can and can’t do. When will you get it. I. Don’t. Need. You.”

He was now merely inches away from your face, eyes filled with fire. You weren’t sure when exactly the lump in your throat appeared, but you could feel soft, subtle tears sting against your cheeks. “Well. The next time you’re covered in cuts and bleeding out, don’t come to me.” you said before walking out, slamming the door behind you.

***

Three days after your big fight you received a letter in the mail.

Dearest (y/n),

I am afraid Lee has fallen extremely ill. He has been under my constant care for days, yet cannot seem to break his fever. I know my nephew hurt you, he often speaks out of fear— lashing out at those closest to him. I sincerely apologize on his behalf.

I need to go across town to fetch medicine to hopefully help his temperature go down. Would you be willing to come and sit with him for an hour or two? You are more than welcome to decline. Either way please come by the shop for a cup of tea soon. Seeing your beautiful smile warms my heart.

With all my love,

Mushi

As angry as you were, you knew how much he loved his nephew. You could not stand to break his heart. So, the next day you swallowed your pride and walked into the tea shop with your head held high.

He greeted you with open arms, as if nothing had happened. “He has been asleep for days,” Mushi explained leading you up the stairs to the apartment. “He just needs someone near to refill his water and keep a damp cloth a top his head. He will occasionally become restless in his sleep and thrash around a bit,” he said with sad eyes, “I will be back as soon as possible. Thank you (y/n). Your act of kindness is a gift from the spirits.” Resting your palm against his arm you said, “Mushi, you know I would do anything for you.” He smiled gratefully, bowing before leaving the room.

He looked so peaceful for the first few minutes, despite the small beads of sweat you noticed dripping down his face and chest. You made sure to switch out the damp rag with a new, cool one and refilled the bucket with fresh water. As you were putting the bucket down you noticed a worried expression stretch across his face. Before you knew it he began writhing back and forth, “Lee?” you knelt down and reached out to wake him up.

Before you could reach him, he quickly sat up and hurled his arm in your direction. You quickly jumped out of the way, and that’s when you noticed it. Fire ripping past your body. Your body was far enough, but you left hand that had come up to instinctively block your face was grazed by a stray flame. You yelped and squatted down to the floor, cradling your hand.

“(y/n)?”

You opened your hand, a slash across your palm already fading into a bright red.

“(y/n)… Please tell me I didn’t do that.” His eyes began filling up with tears.

His eyes were fearful. Terrified of what he had just done. Then the pain started to hit you. Panicking you ran to the bathroom, latching the door behind you. Your mind racing as you submerged your hand underneath the cool faucet.

Lee was a firebender.

He pounded on the door, “(y/n) please let me help you”

Was he a spy?

“Shit! I’m so sorry, please don’t hate me.” his voice cracked. It was obvious to tell he was crying.

No. Not a spy. Then why was a firebender in Ba Sing Se?

“don’t-hate-me, dont-hate-me, please just- fuck! I can’t lose you. I need you.”

“Is your name even Lee?” you felt your mouth move before you could think.

You heard him exhale through the sliding door. “No.”

You turned off the faucet, waiting for his explanation. “My name isn’t Lee. My real name is Zuko… Prince Zuko. My father- he. He is the Firelord. Two years ago he he burnt my face for speaking out against him.” he paused, “I was banished from the Fire Nation after that… My Uncle, Iroh and I have been on the run since I was 14. We came to Ba Sing Se to start over.”

You slid the door open. You were terrified to ask, but your heart needed to hear his answer “Have these last two months been one big lie? Is this… Us-” He stood in front of you eyes red from crying, his hair still damp with sweat. “No.” He said sternly, “Not you. Never with you.” His chest heaved as he spoke, “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me and I pushed you away. I am so sorry. I don’t deserve you.” he swiped his hand down his face, “I lied to you. I was stupid to let myself forget who I am, the kind of person I am. Being around you just made me feel… Normal. I was lost and confused and I used you. You have every right to hate me.”

“Zuko.” your lips testing the sound of his name. “I could never hate you.”

He sighed heavily. He walked up to you wrapping his arms around your middle, tucking his head into your neck. You curled your arms around his shoulders, embracing his head with your hand, stroking your fingers through his hair. You could feel his breath quicken, his tears damp against your clothes, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I love you.” your body tensed, “Please don’t leave me.” his voice whispered, muffled against your skin. Sliding your hands to his neck, you lifted his head from his chin. “I’m not going anywhere.” you reassured, hands now cupping the sides of his face, brushing the tears with your thumbs. “I love you too.”

He immediately pulled you into him, latching onto your lips. His hand slid up the length of your back, pressing your chest against his. You tilted your head downwards, resting your forehead against his. As he pulled away your hands fell to his chest. “Can I just say…” you sighed. He glance at you through his lashes, tightening his grip on your hip. “Yes. Anything.”

“I like your real name so much better than Lee.” you couldn’t help but giggle. He groaned throwing his head back, “Ugh, yea. My Uncle gave it to my as a joke. I got him back by calling him Mushi though.” You both shared a quick laugh.

“Yea I have to be honest, I had to hold myself back from moaning your name all those times. Lee is such an un-sexy name.” you joked, hooking your hands behind his back. He rolled his eyes jokingly, “I just told you I am the crowned Prince of the Fire Nation and that is what you take from it?!” You smiled giddily, “Mhmm, yup.”

“You are ridiculous.” He said before kissing you lightly. “Come on, I used to burn myself while training as a kid. I know a recipe to help it heal.” he said leading you to the kitchen.

***

Let me know if you guys want a part two, maybe a prequel or just more of this Earth Kingdom!Reader plot-line to carry throughout the storyline of the show. Maybe them reuniting on the outer walls with Iroh and the white Lotus or after the war is finished. Hope you guys liked this one <3

Tag List: @myexgirlfriendisthemoon​

[malereader-inserts]

To Serve Our King and Queen

Fandom: Game of Thrones Pairing: Daenerys Targeryen x Baratheon!Reader, Sansa Stark x Baratheon!Reader Summary: A story of heart break, love and heart break again. Word Count:  2,407 Request:  Hey can u do a Daenerys x Baratheon reader where he is the son of cersei and Robert the true son. He used to be In love with Sansa but she wanted Joffrey so she break his heart. Reader leaves king’s landing with tyrion and meet Daenerys where both fall In love with each other. Later Sansa sees the reader with dany and Jon when they arrive to the north. Sansa is being disrespectful towards dany and reader put Sansa in her place and tells her to not talk to his WIFE like that ever again please. A/n: I changed it a bit, I wish it was a little bitter but oh well. 

Cersei and Robert were married before he even became king, Tywin had faith that the Baratheon would overrule the Mad King. It was the start of the downfall of their marriage, the sex was lousy, but it got the lioness pregnant. You were a beautiful babe that Cersei had fallen in love with your looks.

You were a year old when your father overthrows the throne and becomes king of the seven kingdoms. You had a somewhat happy childhood, you were spoilt by your father more than your younger brother - Joffery. Whilst your mother somewhat loved you, you knew that she loved her golden crown children more than you, you had a suspicion about your siblings, they look too much of your uncle Jaime than your father, which was known that Baratheon seed was strong.

So, you were more of a father’s boy than your mother’s. At a young age, you were trained hard, went through advisers and teachers - teaching your expanding knowledge, your father demanded that you were to start off young in training to be king, making sure you know how to fight and be a respected knight just like your father. When you were growing up, you were told tales from your uncle Tyrion, who adored you because he could hold an intellectual conversation with you.

As you grew up, often at times you went with your father to go on hunting, even met with your dad’s best friend and his children. You often had playtime with them, being good friends with Robb and Jon, but you were always wanting to be with Sansa, your father laughs that you would marry Sansa when you two were older - Ned would laugh too.

As years gone past, you tried to ignore your father’s debauchery and your mother’s ever growing hatred towards you. You grew up to be a fine young man, despite being the son of two fucked up people, you were a loved prince - charming, caring and a fighter. You were too familiar with your mother’s manipulation that you were just as smart as her in playing games.

Tywin saw your potential to rule. The people will love you, they already do, because you weren’t fake but you knew when to stand your ground. You weren’t going to be pushed around, you knew your worth to that throne and you will be king whether your mother likes it or not. 

You knew what you wanted but sometimes that’s not how it works out.

You wanted Sansa as a bride, when you arrived at Winterfell after so many years later, you saw how beautiful Sansa was. But, you could see how she was ogling on your brother Joffery, you scoffed - he’s not that big of a deal. 

“Sansa be wise, pick (Y/n),” Robb says in their little family circle after being dismissed in greeting the king, “Jon and I know him better than you, and he’s a delight.”

“But, he’s not Joffery.”

Arya snorted, “Of course, you would want a little prat than an actual prince.”

“Joffery is a prince,” Sansa argued, “He’s handsome and I love him.”

“You barely know the boy,” Robb says with concern on his voice, “How do you even know if you love him?”

You tried winning Sansa’s heart, but before you left Winterfell, Sansa had pulled you aside, you had a little bit of hope but you had seen how she was all over your brother and was by his side every opportunity she could get.

You got your heartbroken by her, she was honest and you were thankful for that, but it hurt your heart. Sure, the two of you were still young, feelings can change like the wind and nothing is certain in the future. 

When you arrived home, you talked to your dad about it and for once, he got serious - talking about that even if you were rejected you should always try to pursue her. He then laughed it off saying Baratheon men don’t have much luck with Stark ladies, but you could see in the pain in his father’s eyes as he remembers Lyanna Stark. 

When your father died there were talks about who will inherit the throne, Cersei was quick on her game to get Joffery on the throne, you were livid. There was a screaming match between you and your mother in front of the small council before venomously bidding her hell. It was Varys, who started to tell you to leave because there were talks of your mother that she was going to hire people to kill you. 

You couldn’t risk that, so you took a route down to the deepest part of Kings landing, keeping yourself out of sight, picking up a stray sword that caught your eye.

That’s your story really.

Anyone back home would believe that you were killed or dead, and suffered in the rule of Joffery Baratheon. People called your the lost prince of hope, their last strand of hope.

Tyrion did not expect to see you alive and by Daenarys side when he entered Esso, running away with the potential of execution on his head. When he saw you, it had been a few years that had past, you were a lot different. 

Your hair was longer, you had grown more muscle mass, must of because you trained with Greyworm. You stood up straighter as if you had a purpose, but you looked happier. What your uncle did not expect was to look at the silver haired woman with such love.

It was a familiar look that he had seen, it was the same look you used to stare at Sansa with. But, to Tyrion’s surprised the look with returned. When you weren’t paying attention or was looking away, Daenerys would give you the same look of love. Tyrion asked Barristan, who laughs and nods.

“Those two? In love like any other teenagers!” He laughs, shaking his head, “They’re betrothed to each other, looking for the perfect time to marry. Daenerys has explicitly said that she wanted no one by her side when she becomes Queen, but learning Ser (Y/n) story, she realised that the two of them have the biggest claim to the throne, rightfully, and on the way, she fell in love with him as did he.”

“Of course,” Tyrion nodded, “I would have liked to see my nephew rule the seven kingdoms, at least he has the birthright unlike Joffery and his siblings.”

“Bastards?” Ser Barristan asked as Tyrion nodded, “Well, that explains the blond hair.”

“I know for the fact that (Y/n) would rule with a good heart, he was trained and he has compassion, he fought any manipulation and lies that were fed to him.”

“Yes,” the knight nods, “I wonder what the people of Westeros would think when they find out a Baratheon could ride a dragon.”

As months past, years past on, Tyrion watched his nephew enjoy his life fighting for what is rightfully his alongside his wife, who loves him as much as he did. There was no one better to rule the Realms other than two great leaders. Tyrion watched how Daenerys freed slaves and took control, Tyrion remembers how you were as a prince. 

“Was there someone you loved before me?” Daenerys asked once, it was on the sail back to Westeros, she could see how excited you were to return home.

You looked at her, “I did, once,” You say, remembering how Dany had disclosed her lovers to you before, “She was fiery, but unlikely you who is made of fire and blood, it was her striking red hair - her name was Sansa Stark.”

“Is she-?”

“My uncle has told me before he had fled that she was alive, but I have no idea where she is now or if she is alive. I’m sure she turned to be a fine young lady.”

Dany raised an eyebrow, “Do tell more.”

“Well, as you know I am of Lannister blood.”

“I am aware,” Dany says distastefully, cringing that you were of blood of the man who murdered her father and you were the son of the man who killed her brother.

“She was more in love with my brother, Joffery. Half-brother because I had my suspicion that he wasn’t of Baratheon blood. You could say he’s pure, like you.”

Dany nods, knowing what you mean, after all, she is in a long line of keeping her blood pure as her relatives were all related one way or another. She hates to think the fact if she were to marry her narcissistic brother, Viserys, whilst both of you acknowledge that you two were distantly related - it was a fact that she was willing to ignore. 

“He was a cunt,” You laughed whilst your wife giggles next to you in bed, “Spoilt and full of himself, I don’t want to imagine what his rule was like, but stories from my uncle it seems to appear as hell.”

“And she picked him over you?” Daenerys asked, raising an eyebrow, “Well, her loss, I think I have a great man before me. A true king.” 

You chuckle, smiling at her lovingly, kissing her forehead, “Shall we sleep, my love?”

“No,” She pouts as you can’t help but find it adorable, “I think you should tell me tales of Westeros, after all, it’s more of your home than it is of mine.”

You weren’t expecting to return to Winterfell, but, it demanded it’s independence, which you thought was outrageous - really. You were reunited with Jon, who greets you with a smile, a joke and good hug - it has been a while since you’ve seen your best friend, glad to see him alive.

You thought that you were going to take over Kings landing, but having to take a detour route to Winterfell to battle in a war of the undead. Although, you get to see your mother before going to the North.

You relish the sight to see her and your uncle Jaime astonished that you were alive and knowing you were going back to claim for the throne. Cersei did not miss how your eyes darken and the glimmer of your sword.

“Mother.”

“Son.”

It was the only interaction you had with her, she refused to come to talk to you, you weren’t surprised - you lacked a mother’s love as you grew up. But, Jaime tried his best to get you to talk to him. You shook off his advances before turning to Jon and Daenerys.

You were surprised to see Sansa, as she was with you. Arya had noticed how she was staring.

“You’re staring, do you have regrets?”

Sansa cleared her throat and stood up straight, “No, he’s just grown.”

“So, have you, perhaps you have a chance at wooing him,” Arya hums looking over to you, talking to Jon with Daenerys by your side, “I can’t deny that he is very handsome.”

You barely got to talk to Sansa when everyone was preparing to war, luckily that your group of people survived the war. But, Missandei was down in the tombs with Sansa and Tyrion where she had heard that Sansa was disrespecting your wife.

Missandei was going to tell her Queen, but rather think other when she sees you walking towards her with a smile - she knew that you were better to handle it. She saw how your jaw locked, no one was going to disrespect your wife.

“Thank you, Missandei, please be with Dany, I’ll sort her out.”

You went to Jon first, who was confused at his cousin after you and Dany told him that he was actually the son of Rhaegar and Lyanna. Jon had his whole heart to support you and Dany’s plan to rule the seven kingdoms, agreeing that despite Winterfell wanting independence, they would struggle.

Sansa was trying to find the right ways to talk to you, perhaps try and mend the relationship. But, when you were looking at her as you stride towards her - she thinks differently. 

Tyrion was in the room, trailing behind you as well as Varys. Jon followed closely behind whilst Arya looked confused, looking at her sister. 

“How dare you disrespect your Queen!” 

No greetings, no smile upon your face, fury on your expression and for once in her life, Sansa no longer recognise the sweet boy from many years ago.

“You should owe her your life after she came to rescue your home! She brought dragons and not once has she spoken about the clear disrespect that you and your people wore. She is not mad like her father at all.”

Tyrion, Varys, Jon and many other people could agree to that, Daenerys was nothing like her father and it was mostly because of you. You were her constant grounding, bringing her to reality and knowing that you will always be by her side. 

“She’s not my Queen!” Sansa snaps back, gritting her teeth, “I don’t think she should be if anything if someone was to take the throne it should be you! It’s been rightfully yours since your father died.”

“It is my throne,” You sneered as Sansa stops upon hearing your words, “You’re not only disrespecting your queen, you are disrespecting my wife.”

Wife.

Her hearts shatter, she wonders is that how you felt when she had rejected you. Your eyes were cold, your stance was stiff and the lost Valyrian sword matches it’s current owner - you. It reflected who you were, shiny and attractive, but can cut so deeply - it was hard to recover from it’s inflicted wounds.

“You shall never bad mouth the throne, you hear me?” You pressed on, your tone turning stern that she reluctantly nods, “Don’t test me, Stark.” 

With that, you turn on your heel and leave the room, leaving the occupants confused and somewhat terrified. 

“Well...” Arya breaks the silence, “Sansa?”

Her heart was broken, she thought this time she could find love. She was never Joffery’s, she refuses to be claimed by Ramsey and she lost Theon. But, she could not let a man ruin her thoughts, putting up a wall as she looks away from where you last were.

“I believe we all have a meeting on how we will accompany our King and Queen to the throne.”

She dreads to see you because she knows when she arrives - you will look at Daenerys with love and it’ll be returned. 

[robininthelabyrinth]

i keep thinking about all the yiling patriarch!jiang cheng aus out there and it got me curious: what wild canon divergences would have to happen for it to be jiang yanli who becomes the yiling matriarch? (she doesn’t use a flute, she just asks politely probably) and what would be the eventual fallout of that?

It was Wei Wuxian’s idea, of course.

Jiang Yanli’s big didi was brilliant and talented beyond measure, as reckless and impertinent in his thoughts as he was in every other way, just as her little didi was earnest and soft-hearted and dutiful, the outlines of the serious man he’d become when he grew up just barely visible underneath the baby fat that still lingered in his cheeks.

It was Wei Wuxian’s idea, but it was Jiang Cheng that made Jiang Yanli decide to use it.

Both of her brothers got invitations to sit in on important sect meetings, as senior disciple and presumptive heir; Wei Wuxian apparently made good contributions during the meetings and forgot about them immediately afterwards, while Jiang Cheng listened intently and then worried for days.

“The Wen sect is becoming more and more of a threat,” Jiang Cheng told her late at night when she was making him something to settle his upset stomach – he was like a little bird, with anxiety enough to put him off his seed. “Mother and Father are fighting over how much they need to react, since technically they haven’t come into Yunmeng…”

“Technically?”

“We never signed agreements with those clans, but we’ve been all but responsible for them anyway.” He put his head down on the table, sighing. “What happens if they come here?”

“A-Xian says they won’t dare.”

“He’s just repeating what Father says. I don’t know. Maybe they don’t dare now, but – what if they do, one day?”

Jiang Yanli took after her father in most aspects, but she was still her mother’s daughter: while she comforted Jiang Cheng and told him not to worry, filled him up with warm soup and hugged him until he smiled again, the thought lingered. What if, indeed. Her brothers would need to fight, of course. Her two babies raising up swords against human beings instead of evil creatures; her mother would use Zidian, of course, and her father had his sword, and she –

Jiang Yanli was not un-self-aware. She was an indifferent cultivator, with below-average skills at the sword – good enough to pass basic muster, but not much more than that. Her talismans were about the same, decent but not inspiring, and she could only produce an average number before she exhausted her spiritual energy. She had a golden core, but it was weak, just like she was weak.

She wouldn’t be able to defend her home. To defend her brothers.

And there was nothing she could do about it –

That was when she remembered Wei Wuxian’s silly little idea, the one that had gotten him in so much trouble at the Cloud Recesses, that he’d told her all about in great detail when he’d returned home: to use resentful energy the way they used spiritual energy.

(“– and then poor Nie Huaisang said it would be helpful to someone like him, who formed his core later; he doesn’t have much spiritual energy, so he gets tired easily, but if it’s not his energy he’s using, he wouldn’t be held back by the limits of his own cultivation –”)

Jiang Yanli pursed her lips in thought.

Wei Wuxian had only sketched out the basic idea, without going forward to think of ways to implement the idea – after all, it was all well and good to say you could find a way to channel tremendous external energy into something usable, but another thing entirely to actually do it. It would be as tricky as catching lightning from the sky and using it as a whip.

In other words, it was time to ask her mother for help.

To say that Yu Ziyuan disapproved would be an understatement, but Jiang Yanli knew her mother well: she waited until the initial rant was completed and then pointed out, quietly, that she didn’t have any other means with which to defend herself – and that would leave her at the non-existent mercy of the Wen sect.

Her mother froze. “…I could give you Zidian,” she finally said, but from the expression on her face, even she knew that that wouldn’t work: Zidian required both a strong golden core and a certain knack, a talent that Jiang Cheng had and Jiang Yanli lacked; there had never been any question between the two of them as to who would inherit Zidian. “Or we could buy more talismans –”

“And when the talismans we buy run out? I can’t replenish them myself. But if we try my way, I won’t have to rely on A-Xian or A-Cheng – a-niang, just think about how I’d feel if they got hurt trying to save me! And all because I don’t have a knack for cultivating!”

Her mother sighed. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll help you figure out how it could work in practice, rather than in theory. But it’s only for emergencies, you understand? What you’re suggesting comes very close to demonic cultivation – if you use human-generated resentful energy, it is demonic cultivation – and using that too much damages the body, affects the temperament.”

“Just for emergencies,” Jiang Yanli promised.

“And don’t tell A-Cheng or Wei Wuxian about it,” her mother insisted. “Can you imagine the trouble those two would get into with something like this?”

Jiang Yanli covered her mouth to try to keep from giggling. “A-Xian would probably restyle himself to match the aesthetic – wearing Demon Cultivating Robes, under Demon Cultivating Hair, that he left in a pile on the Demon Cultivating Bed –”

“From which he rested on the Pillow of Evil, no doubt,” her mother agreed, looking amused despite herself. “And your brother would end up trying to keep a small legion of fierce corpses as pets because he felt too bad about sending them back into the earth after having used them.”

“He’d give them names,” Jiang Yanli said, giggling harder. “Princess, or Buttercup –”

“And he’d hide them very badly in a closet or something, too. Do you remember the nest of juvenile fisher hawks that he hid in the armory? They nearly fell on my head –”

“Of course I remember. You nearly stepped on poor little Cloudpuff.”

“Don’t remind me!”

They had two years to work on it, their own little mother-daughter bonding time – the boys ran away in mock fright at the mere suggestion of girly stuff – and Jiang Yanli felt that she and her mother had never been closer. They could even, for the first time, go on night-hunts together, Jiang Yanli summoning corpses with a crook of her finger and a gentle hum while her mother cut them down with her sword or with Zidian.

It was so much fun that Jiang Yanli almost forgot why they’d started it in the first place.

And then, very suddenly, it all became real.

Jiang Yanli was at Meishan, visiting her grandmother, when the Wen sect attacked, but word spread quickly – the Lotus Pier ravaged, the sect leader and his wife both dead, their children missing…

“We have to hide you at once,” her grandmother said after they’d passed through the first flush of grief, her face still wet with tears. “They’ll be coming here next –”

“You will tell them that I am not here,” Jiang Yanli said, and stood up, wiping her own eyes. “Because I won’t be. I’m going back to the Lotus Pier.”

“A-Li! If you do that, they’ll catch you – have you heard what the Wen sect does to female cultivators –”

“Mother and Father are dead at their hands,” Jiang Yanli said. “They must be avenged.”

“Your brother will do that! That boy, Wei Wuxian, he will –”

“I will not let them bear that burden alone,” Jiang Yanli said. “Keep everyone here safe for me, okay?”

She made it back just in time to see Jiang Cheng, her little A-Cheng, the baby she held in her tiny arms less than a shichen after he’d been born, the one she clothed and fed and cared for all these years, being dragged into the main hall by Wen sect cultivators, his face pale with fear.

Wen Chao was sitting in her father’s chair, playing with the sect’s discipline whip. “I’ve always wondered if this thing was as bad as they say. Let’s try it out on him,” he ordered, grinning lazily. “And then Wen Zhuliu can melt his golden core, and we can try it again – to see if there’s any difference in using it on a cultivator and on a regular person.”

Jiang Cheng didn’t plead for mercy, not even as they forced him down to kneel, even as his shoulders shook under their hands – Jiang Yanli turned her face away, nodded at the young Wen cultivator that had snuck her in this far (Wen Ning, she thought his name was), and raised her hands to do what she had to do.

The Wen sect had been lazy in the immediate aftermath of their victory: they hadn’t bothered to either bury or burn the corpses of her Jiang sect cultivators, her shidi and shimei, her martial aunts and uncles; they’d only tossed them outside into a giant pit to be dealt with later.

They were going to regret that.

“Jiejie!” Jiang Cheng cried out when he saw her rushing over to his side: he was bleeding, and badly, from the marks of the whip, but Wen Zhuliu hadn’t had a chance to destroy his core yet, having been distracted by the sight of the Violet Spider risen up from the dead in defiance of all soul-calming rituals.

(Jiang Yanli knew her mother well enough to know that she would forgive the use of her corpse if it resulted in her ripping out Wen Zhuliu’s core with her bare hands, using the elongated nails of a fierce corpse, a fearsome red-clad ghost dressed in purple. They would put her to rest later in the same coffin as her husband.)

“It’s okay, A-Cheng,” Jiang Yanli said, petting his hair. “It’s okay – jiejie’s here. I’ll keep you safe.”

Wen Ning ended up being the little brother of Wen Qing, who he somehow managed to summon – the famous doctor lived up to her reputation and didn’t so much as blink at being escorted into the main room by fierce corpses in order to care for Jiang Cheng’s wounds. Jiang Yanli was pretty sure that she’d seen her deliberately stepping on Wen Chao’s corpse on her way in, too, so she wasn’t worried.

“No one can know that I was involved,” Wen Qing said, finishing up stitching together Jiang Cheng’s chest and resetting his collarbone. He was out cold, and there were medicines that would work as painkillers for when he woke up. “I have to keep my family safe, too.”

“You were never here, this never happened,” Jiang Yanli agreed. “If you ever decide that the Wen sect is a losing proposition, come to me and I’ll remember this favor.”

Wen Qing eyed some of the fierce corpses standing as guards. “I’ll remember that.”

There was some yelling outside, a familiar voice. Jiang Yanli tilted her head to the side and smiled. “That’ll be A-Xian. He can help sneak you out of our borders without anyone the wiser – no one knows the ins and out of the Lotus Pier better than he does.”

She went out and found Wen Ning trying to talk down a wild-eyed Wei Wuxian, who apparently was on familiar terms with him. Not really a surprise: Wei Wuxian was friendly with everybody.

“A-Xian!” she called.

“Shijie?! What are you doing here? Are you okay – are you safe – did you see Jiang Cheng –”

“It’s okay,” she said. “All the bad Wens are dead; Wen Ning and his sister – and their subordinates – are helping us. A-Cheng is injured, but he’ll heal.”

Wei Wuxian sat down abruptly, all the tension in his body replaced by a mixture of relief and the remnants of his despair. “I only went away for a moment to get some food,” he said, and put his head in his hands. “I only looked away for a moment…”

Jiang Yanli sat next to him and wrapped her arms around him. “You did your best, A-Xian. That’s all that can be asked of you.”

“But – Madame Yu said –”

Jiang Yanli could guess what her mother had probably said.

“Of course you need to take care of A-Cheng,” she said, and let him bury his head in her shoulder. “He’s your didi, isn’t he? Just like he’s mine, and you’re mine, too; it’s our responsibility as older siblings to take care of the younger ones. He’s going to need our help a lot more now that he has to be sect leader.”

Wei Wuxian sniffled. “I told him I’d support him when he became sect leader – that we’d be the twin heroes of Yunmeng, just like the twin jades of the Lan sect. I just didn’t think…not so soon! And now there’s barely any Jiang sect left!”

“My little heroes,” Jiang Yanli said, and kissed his forehead. “It’ll be okay. The Wen sect may have attacked the Lotus Pier, but there are plenty of Jiang sect cultivators who weren’t here – we have them, and we can recruit more.”

He nodded, then paused. “Uh, shijie – a question.”

“Yes?”

“The fierce corpses everywhere…”

“We’ll need to lay them to rest after we’re done,” Jiang Yanli said firmly. Her mother had insisted on that: demonic cultivation encouraged bad tendencies, sloppiness, and the only way to deal with that degradation of spirit was with discipline and righteousness. If possible, she should prefer non-human spirits; human corpses could be used, but only to the degree necessary, and then they had to be laid to rest with honor, as they deserved – furthermore, if at all possible, they should only be summoned from those that would have willingly given up their bodies to help the endeavor in question, rather than using tormenting their spirits by using them against their friends and family.

Somehow, Jiang Yanli didn’t think there would be a problem finding victims of the Wen sect to help.

“But how did you do it?” Wei Wuxian wanted to know. “They listen to you –”

“I’m manipulating their resentful energy,” she explained. “Based on the idea you initially had at the Cloud Recesses – what? Don’t look at me like that, didi; I did tell you I thought it was a good idea.”

“But demonic cultivation is bad for you! It affects the temperament, the body, the heart…”

“Mother used to say that my temperament could probably stand to be a bit worse,” Jiang Yanli said, feeling her eyes go hot as tears threatened. She sniffed and wiped at her eyes. “Don’t worry, didi. We came up with a bunch of rules to try to make it easier and less harmful to use…I’m not a sword cultivator like you and A-Cheng; it’s not my strength. But I can do this, and I won’t be helpless against the Wen sect.”

Wei Wuxian hugged her, clearly terrified by the thought. “Never mind what I said. It’s a good idea.”

Jiang Yanli smiled. “I know. You’ll help me come up with more ways to use it, right? You and A-Cheng – you always did come up with the craziest things when you were together, even more than you alone.”

“Of course!” There was the Wei Wuxian she knew and loved: forgetting pain – or at least, putting it aside – as soon as he had something concrete to work on. “How do you do it? Music? I’d been thinking of using musical manipulation –”

“Sometimes I hum? Mostly it’s just willpower – sometimes gestures, like saluting. It works better if the resentful spirits feel appreciated.”

Wei Wuxian blinked at her. “Appreciated?”

“Everyone likes to feel appreciated, A-Xian.”

“I suppose so,” he said, then shook his head. “Whatever you say is right, shijie.”

“Of course she’s right,” Jiang Cheng croaked from inside the room – he’d stumbled over to the door, and both Wei Wuxian and Jiang Yanli immediately rushed over to help him back to his bed. “Jiejie’s always right…jiejie, what do we do next?”

“Don’t look at me!” she objected. “You’re sect leader; you decide. I’m just here to support you.”

Jiang Cheng nodded. “We have to fight back against the Wen sect,” he said. His voice was raspy with pain and the remnants of screaming: Wei Wuxian lifted a cup of tea to his lips at once. “The way the Nie sect is…the Lan sect, too; I think Father mentioned that Lan Wangji was doing a lot of travelling. Wei Wuxian, you got close to him when you were at the Xuanwu cave. Can you go find him? Tell him we need his help, and the help of any other sects he can help us recruit.”

Wei Wuxian nodded. “You sure you don’t need me here..?”

“There won’t be a ‘here’ if we don’t get people together, and fast – we killed one of Wen Ruohan’s sons. As soon as I’m better, I’m going to go find people for the Jiang sect, whether cultivators who weren’t here or new ones. And shijie…”

“What can I do?”

Jiang Cheng lifted his finger to point at the corpses, which he hadn’t even questioned. “We need more of those. A lot more of those. An army of them.”

Jiang Yanli frowned. “Where am I supposed to find an army worth of dead people? I was planning on picking up resentful souls of the Wen sect’s victims as we went, but that’ll be incremental, not an army…”

“Actually,” Wei Wuxian said. “I have an idea. Have you ever heard of the Burial Mounds in Yiling…?”

[buffintruder]

can you imagine what the untamed would have been like from Lan Sizhui’s pov because that would have been so funny

like first of all, you’re just going about your regular business, hunting evil spirits with your squad, and you meet this guy who used to be part of the Jin sect but got kicked out and apparently is crazy and always wears a mask? but he’s also clearly being mistreated by his family, and you know that whatever got him kicked out, he does not deserve this humiliation and abuse

you feel sorry for him, even when he stomps a spirit-summoning flag into the ground and runs unprotected into the middle of a fight and generally causes mild distress and irritation to your fellow juniors.

except then it turns out he actually seems quite competent and he even figures out a lot of what’s going on with the goddess statue, and sure he has weird habits, but he is nothing like how Jin Ling describes his bastard uncle. also maybe he summoned and sent away the Ghost General with his flute? but that’s impossible because the Ghost General should be ash, and anyway, the only one who could control the Ghost General was— 

And that’s not even the weirdest part, because then Hanguang Jun arrives. You are certain the two of them have not been close in the past, because surely he would have mentioned it, and besides, when would their paths even have crossed? 

But Hanguang Jun is your adopted father/mentor figure, and even though he has shown you nothing but kindness, you know how stoic and reserved he is to the rest of the world. Yet he treats Mo Xuanyu with a care you have never seen him offer to anyone besides yourself and his brother. He is never like this around strangers, and you don’t understand what is going on. 

(edit: now on ao3)

You part ways, then meet back up again not too long afterwards, and any pretense Hanguang Jun might have had at not being incredibly close to Mo Xuanyu dissolves. When they fight together at Yi City, there is a familiarity in the ease of their movements, the way they never have to look to make sure the other has his back. Sometimes when Hanguang Jun looks at Mo Xuanyu, you see more open emotion than you possibly have ever seen before. Hanguang Jun never flinches away from Mo Xuanyu’s touch.

Any pretense Mo Xuanyu might have had at being anything less than an expert cultivator also vanishes. He slips into the role of mentor and protector with ease, joking to keep all of you calm while he teaches you how to save your lives, always putting your safety above his. You wonder if it would be weird to consider a near-stranger fatherly.  

He feeds your poisoned fellow Juniors ridiculously spicy congee, and it does cure them, despite all their complaining about how it murdered their mouths. You had tasted some when helping him make it, but even with how strongly it burned your tongue, there was a strange part of you liked it. For some reason it taste familiar, like home somehow, even though you have lived in the Lan sect for as long as you can remember and they only have bland, spiceless food. 

That’s when the memories begin coming back, slow and weak, like a faint flute melody in the wind, too quiet to fully make out.

You do not remember your early childhood. This is hardly an unusual phenomenon, but you still feel its loss. You were not always a Lan. That development came when you were around four or five, according to what others have told you. Four seems an old enough age that you always thought that you should have at least some idea of what happened before, but you never have.

But now you have the faint impression of a different vendor in a different city selling a similar grass butterfly to the one you bought on impulse despite being far too old for toys. You think of the familiarity of congee, of the reedy melody you heard the night you met Mo Xuanyu and then again as the Ghost General stopped attacking the juniors and ran off into the trees. You have a handful of clues, but they paint no coherent picture.

These thoughts haunt you for three months, but since Mo Xuanyu returns to Cloud Recesses as you continue on your night hunts, there is nothing but the occasional sparks of familiarity around random items or phrases to fill in the missing parts. 

And then the word comes out that Mo Xuanyu is actually Wei Wuxian, the Yiling Patriarch, the founder of demonic cultivation. This is the man who killed thousands, who betrayed the clans, who murdered his own family, including the parents of your—your friend? the boy you’ve run into a few times and survived life-or-death situations with?

Except when everybody else reacts with anger and fear, you... don’t. You can’t explain why, but the name Wei Wuxian brings an echo of comfort, half buried under all the horrible stories you’ve heard about him. 

Part of you wonders if it has anything to do with the whispers of memories, that faint deja vu that has started haunting you. Or maybe it’s the way that Hanguang Jun has always turned sad at the mention of Wei Wuxian, how he never speaks a bad word about him despite their alleged rivalry. All your fellow juniors are terrified and furious and hurt at having been deceived, at having grown to like this eccentric man who teased them and saved their lives then turned out to be the monster from all their childhood bedtime stories, and even though you understand them, you feel none of that.

He saves all of you not too long afterwards, and you can’t say you are surprised. Even when all evidence pointed to him being the one to trap you and your friends in a cave for days, it never seemed quite right to you.

It was a set up you learn, as he and Hanguang Jun and the Ghost General save you from an army of corpses and reveal the true traitor. All those terrible deeds you’ve spent your whole life hearing about are not explained away, but this one is, and you have faith that Wei Wuxian is not the villain everyone has made him out to be.

His Ghost General, Wen Ning, certainly isn’t. A living corpse who has slaughtered armies sounds terrifying, but in reality he’s rather sweet. There is something so soft and hopeful in his eyes as he approaches you and asks you for his name. Your friends keep their hands on their swords, but you offer him a smile and an answer. There’s something familiar about him too.

Maybe that’s why you talk to him, despite the intense look in his eyes. Or maybe because he seemed so sad, alone, separated from everyone else, and the intensity seems anything but dangerous. “You—look like my cousin,” he says, and you start to wonder, everything so close to sliding into place.

You don’t know who your parents are or where you came from, but there is something about the clan name Wen that feels so close to something right, despite all the tales you’ve heard about the destruction they wrought.

Then he gives you a grass butterfly, so similar to the one you bought at the market, so similar to something you know was important to you long ago. And like one last pebble taken out from the base of a wall, this small token brings everything above it crumbling down, and suddenly the memories start spilling in. You look at him properly now, because this was your relative, and you once lived with and played with him. He sees the recognition in your eyes, you know, because he steps forward, trembling.

Of course, Jin Ling has to ruin the moment, but now that you know, there is nothing in the world that could keep you from talking to him and finding out more. You were a Wen, you think. You must have been raised in the Burial Grounds by Wei Wuxian, the Yiling Patriarch. You were one of the people he betrayed all the clans to protect. No wonder you never feared the stories of the monstrous Wens and Yiling Patriarch. How could you when they were your family, when you were one of them?

You never could have lived among the Lan Sect if people knew, so you understand why it had to remain a secret.

Still. You have to know more.

“Did Master Wei really put a five year old child in the soil like a turnip?” you ask Wen Ning, at the nearest opportunity. That child was you, and both of you know it, even if you can’t say it out loud, not this close to all these people who would be willing to turn on Wei Wuxian on any excuse, who would be willing to turn on you if they knew the truth.

Wen Ning smiles and nods, and there is more life in the glow of his eyes than any corpse has the right to have. “Just like this!” he says, gesturing, as sparks of memory come back even stronger than before.

And then of course everything goes wrong. Wen Ning throws you into the temple where all the leaders of the four main clans plus Wei Wuxian and Hanguang Jun and a few others are. Jin Guangyao is holding a thread around your friend’s (you think you can call him your friend by now) throat and there is blood, and so many secrets spilled, confessions made.

In the midst of it all, you see Wei Wuxian for the first time since you started to remember, and now there are more memories, sharper, clearer. You remember his spicy congee, the toy butterfly so similar to the ones you hold now that Hanguang Jun bought for you that day Wei Wuxian took you out into the city. Back then, you hadn’t really understood the significance of all those things, why you lived on a mountain full of buried bones, why Wei Wuxian hadn’t bought that toy himself, but now you are older and you know some of the history behind it. Not all of it, you are sure, since so many assumptions of the past have just been proven wrong tonight, and the history you were told had never mentioned the existence of a small child among the supposedly evil remnants of the Wen clan. 

You do not know the full truth, but you want to.

Even once everything is over, with the enemies dead and gone, there are a million things going on, relationships being broken or repaired for the first time in over a decade, injuries to be treated, people to reassure that you are okay, that you made it out alive. It takes a bit for you to peel away from everything, to speak to Wei Wuxian, but you find Wen Ning, and the two of you manage to catch up before Wei Wuxian and Hanguang Jun can go far.

Your thoughts and memories are still chaotic and scattered, little bursts of images and sensations that only barely form a coherent picture. But you summon all your determination, sixteen years of questions that are now clamoring for answers in your brain. You take a deep breath. “I have something important that I must ask you.”

Your heart is pounding, and in the past few days, you have faced an army of fierce corpses and fought against the Ghost General (for which he has apologized a thousand times) and helped confront a master manipulator, and somehow this is the most terrifying thing you have done. You are so sure of the truth, but some part of you doubts. How can you truly be sure when you were so young? And even if the man in front of you helped raise so long ago, how can you know if he still has any affection for you, that he is willing to recognize you? These are irrational fears, you know, but they weigh heavily.

Still, you meet his gaze with eyes that are already starting to water and begin to speak of your long-buried memories, the words spilling out with more and more ease as you continue to talk, as his expression changes from confusion to something full of grief and slow realization.

“Wen was my surname,” you say, now confident of this fact, your previous doubts melted away in the face of Wei Wuxian’s teary eyes.

He looks away, blinking as if he can’t believe it and mutters, “Wen was your surname? Isn’t Lan your surname? Lan Sizhui... Lan Yuan... Lan Yuan.” Then he looks up at you with so much hope, full of a scared longing that you know is the same as what fills your own heart. “A-Yuan.”

It has been a lifetime since you last heard your name called out in that voice, and you wonder how you could have gone so long without even knowing you were missing it. You nod. Tears threaten to spill out of your eyes, but you can’t be bothered to fight them.

You can tell it doesn’t seem quite real to him, the way he looks so afraid to believe it. He thought you were dead this whole time, you realize when he turns to Hanguang Jun for confirmation. And that breaks your heart a little more. He had lost so much, and you had lost so much even if you weren’t fully aware of it, but now you have found each other all over again, and the miraculousness of that is almost too much to bear.

You rush forward to hug him, sixteen years of Lan propriety forgotten. You are a child again, clinging onto a man you have always loved, except you are also an adult with so many years of separation only hitting you now that you are finally reunited. You are both and neither, and as his arms come up to wrap around you, you know that all that matters is that you are home.

[imagines-dreams]

A Reaper - Jack Frost Imagine

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: mentions of death and overworking oneself, burnout, not much romantic things so it can be read as platonic

Summary: You’re one of the many reapers who lead souls from death. You’ve never met any of the guardians, but you’ve met Pitch more times than you’d like.

Word Count: 2882

Notes: This is unedited, because I feel bad for not posting so hopefully this is good for someone

~ - ~

“Hello.”

The old woman opened her eyes and blinked the stiffness of death away. “Wha-” She rubbed her eyes at the sight of you. “Who” -she turned only to gasp. You gently pulled her to face you before smiling. “It’s ok. Your friends will be fine.”

“But I’m-”

“Dead.”

“Are you-” She gulped. “Are you death?”

“I have many names, but my job is to bring you home.” You held out your hand. “You can come with me, or you can stay.”

“What if I stay?”

“Then, I’ll come back when you’re ready.” You stared past her to look at the nurses and her friends that surround the hospital bed. “I warn you, though, it’s a sad existence to see and not be seen.”

The old woman slowly made her way to another old woman, who was crying at the bedside. Your passenger patted her friend’s head only to see her hand touch nothing. The woman started to cry. “I’ll go.”

You nodded. “Alright.” When she took your hand, you led her away, and as your surroundings came back into focus, she beamed. “My home.”

You laughed. “I told you. Back home.”

The apartment door didn’t open, but someone emerged. 

“Mama?”

The old woman and her mother embraced, and they left. 

You closed your eyes and leaned against the wall. Leading the dead was exhausting. Willing yourself out, you took yourself to your garden. There, nothing was dead, only the silence. You stared at the moon in the night sky. “You really couldn’t have found someone else for the job?”

And like always, the moon didn’t respond.

And like always, you were whisked away to another soul to lead. 

“Hello, dear.”

Damn it. Your sword appeared in your hand, and brandished it with no fear. “Pitch.” The name tasted like tar. 

Despite the unfortunate circumstance of the king of nightmares being present, you noticed the road beneath your feet and the ambulance to your right. There was also a child in someone’s arms, struggling against the hold. A nightmare.

“You sick, twisted-”

“There’s no need for name calling.”

You put away your sword and rushed to the child. With one touch, the black sand disintegrated. “He witnessed death, and you play with his dreams like its nothing.” You hadn’t so desperately wished for the Sand man’s abilities until the moment.

“I just needed your attention.” 

The ambulance was your next destination. A middle-aged woman was crying over the body of her husband, and the soul was just leaving. “Please, leave, you’re not needed,” you sneered as you checked the man’s memories. He liked the beach, and he had recently lost a beloved uncle. Perhaps you could call upon that soul. 

As you made your arrangements, Pitch slithered behind you. “Don’t you think some souls deserve punishment?”

“That’s not our call to make, Pitch.” You took out your sword. “Now, get out!” You striked, but he was gone. 

“Wha- Who- Are you-”

“Death?” You smiled through your stress. “I have many names, but my job is to bring you home.” 

After the man had reunited with his uncle, you stared at the waves and watched them go, back and forth. It was mesmerizing. Sometimes, you wished you could have that kind of simplicity. 

“Are you really going to ignore me?”

But, that wasn’t your life. 

You said nothing. He wouldn’t stop. You took a deep breath and let him talk. He’d tire himself out.

He stood in front of you, blocking your view of the sea. “Your fellow grim reapers joined me. Don’t you want to see them again?”

You didn’t even give him the satisfaction of glaring at him. It didn’t mean that your shoulders weren’t tense, though. 

“They all agreed that some deserve the nightmares. You don’t think there are bad people in the world?” He circled you, but you kept your eyes on the waves, even as he grew mad. “Don’t they deserve punishment?! The liars! The cheaters! The murderers!”

You bit your cheek. He talked about so much, and both of you knew so little of what happens after death. It was a shame that the people you once worked with agreed with a man who was only mad at the world and everyone in it. Your friends may have taken the easy way out, let nightmares guide people in death instead of themselves, but you wouldn’t. 

“Don’t you want help, my dear?”

You steeled yourself. Because yes, you did want help. You didn’t ask to see death every minute of every day. You didn’t ask to be immortal. But you were, and you were people’s first comfort in death. You wouldn’t hand that over to some nightmare king. 

“I can help you.” He crouched down to whisper in your ear, “And then, you can stare at the ocean all you want.”

You shivered.

He screamed. 

And someone laughed. “Hey, snake eyes!”

When you looked up to see what had happened, a laugh bubbled from within you and escaped your lips in a merry glee. Pitch, the darkness personified and king of the nightmare realm had been hit with two snowballs, and he wasn’t happy about it. A boy in blue was behind you. Snow covered the ground he walked on, and a pile of snow was next to him. He had a snowball ready to fire.

Jack Frost. 

The boy launched the other snowball right as Pitch disappeared and reappeared by his side. 

“Jack Frost,” Pitch said, “you are-”

Jack threw a snowball in his face. “Ha!” He raced to you, grabbed your hand, and pulled you behind him. “You’re so bad at this, Pitch. You’re not supposed to talk!” Another snowball thrown, and another appeared. A big one. On top of Pitch’s head. 

It fell and covered the lord of darkness in blue, fluffy snow. 

You laughed. You laughed really hard. “You really shouldn’t do that,” you said with a smile that said otherwise.

The guardian shrugged. “Sometimes, when stupid people talk, you have to treat it like a joke.” He threw his snowball in the air and let you catch it. “Take the shot.”

With nothing better to do, you did, and seeing Pitch’s face covered in snow was a payoff you never knew you needed. “I did it!” 

“Yeah, you did!” With a wave of his hand, the beach was covered in snow, and a pile of ready-made ammunition was by your side. “Take aim!”

You’re not sure how it happened, but soon you were giggling and the man of fear wasn’t talking. He was too busy being hit by you or by Jack Frost! You were besting him at a game he didn’t want to play, and honestly, it felt good. You had run for the joy of it or laughed for the sake of laughing in so long. 

The man growled, “This isn’t over,” but since he was covered in snow, it didn’t sound as threatening or tiring. Then, he was gone. 

Your chest hurt from the lightness you felt, and yet you had never felt better. “I’ve never had him leave so fast,” you said. “Usually, he’d follow me until something else called his attention.”

“That’s no fair.” Jack leaned against his staff. “Did Manny really put one person in charge of leading the souls?”

“Not at first.” You shook your head. “There were many of us, but Pitch, he convinced so many to let him handle it. After all, so many people in the world, right?”

Jack’s face contorted into something of disgust. “I mean, some, yeah, but not all.”

“Exactly, but Pitch sees it differently, and my other reapers were just so tired of-”

Another soul called out to you. Your chest felt heavy again. “I need to go.” You smiled. “This was fun.”

“Woah, wait!” Jack raised his eyebrows. “I think I’m owed a name.”

You told him your name. You left before seeing his brilliant smile and before you could see him repeat your name before nodding to himself. “Name to remember.”

As the weeks went by, More and more reapers joined Pitch, and more and more souls were put under your care. You were exhausted. While you could physically do your job, you were so tired of seeing all these souls distraught and clinging to you for answers. You helped people, but you were soon at a point where you couldn’t help yourself. 

“I can’t do this,” you said to the moon. “I’m going to break soon. Help me.”

Jack Frost visited your garden. He didn’t know it was yours but it was winter. “Hi, Jack.”

“Ah, our own Hades!” He bowed. “Your majesty.”

Though your head was heavy and your thoughts far from light, you smiled as best you could. “That’s not how it works. People don’t fear me like the god of death and destruction.”

Jack blinked. “Ok, you need a breather.” He tilted his head far too much to the side. “Ah!” He held out his staff to you. “Grab on.”

“What?��

“Grab on.”

“I might have another soul-”

“To lead, I know, but grab on, you can have a bit of a break.”

When you only stared at the staff, Jack poked you. “Come on, before you need to leave.”

You shook your head. “Only for a little bit.” You grabbed the end of his staff, and Jack smirked. “Jack, I don’t like that- Woah!” You were yanked right into the air, the wind carrying you and Jack. The pull was so strong, so unexpected, and the staff slipped from your grip. 

“Jack!”

“Oh!” He zipped past you and let the wind carry him forward so he could hold your hand and pull you into his chest. “You haven’t flown by wind before have you?”

“I can transport!” You held onto him. “No need for the wind messing up my robes!”

He laughed. “Don’t worry, the wind will fix you when we land.”

The North Pole was beautiful. It was bright and full of music, and there was no such thing as silence. Elves were bustling around and testing toys. There was music in the air, percussion, strings, wind, brass, and even some yetis singing carols as they worked. 

“Ah, a reaper!” North lifted you up and squeezed you as if he had met you before and hadn’t seen you in years. “Wait!” He pulled away. “Don’t tell me it’s my time already!”

You laughed. “Don’t worry, North, you’re not on my list.”

The jolly man laughed, and it sounded better than music. “My friend, you must visit us more.”

You and Jack got to build toys for a lengthy twelve minutes before someone called out to you. 

“I’ll bring you back when you have a break,” Jack promised. 

As your shoulders sagged and you put on your standard robe, you said, “You better.” 

The days went on, and more reapers left to join Pitch. Soon, he began to reappear to you. “Wouldn’t it be easier?” he said. “Let me take care of this. Let me free you from-”

You threw sand at his face, and you laughed. 

“That’s not funny.”

You shrugged. “It’s kinda funny.” You went back to tending your garden. “Also, I know what you’re doing.”

“What? Trying to help you?”

“No.” You plucked the last of your fruits and smiled at him. “Helping yourself.” You turned to go back into your house. “You see, it didn’t occur to me until Jack had called me Hades.” you set your basket down and sorted your fresh harvest. “When people fear death, they believe that you must be able to cheat it, talk to it. Of course, you can’t, but if a certain king of nightmares kept on haunting people close to death, maybe, just maybe, some people would fear him enough to believe.” 

You took your knife and began to cut some vegetables for a salad. “But you see, I’m not leaving.” You turned to him and casually let your knife point right at him. “People don’t deserve to fear and avoid something as inevitable as death.” 

He scoffed. “So, you’re what? You’re going to keep on helping until you become exhausted? Think of all that death you will witness. All those people you must comfort. All the souls you must lead. Won’t you need help?”

“I have help.” You leaned forward to open your window. “He’s here!” you yelled. 

In a flash, Jack, North, and some of their friends were in front of your cottage. You continue to chop tomatoes. “It’s funny, because if you didn’t pester me so much, Jack wouldn’t have found me. He wouldn’t have forced me to take breaks and make friends and find the fun in everything as many things as I can.” You scooped all of your ingredients into a bowl and looked at Pitch. “So, really, I must thank you. I can help souls, and be helped by guardians.” You opened the door so Pitch could try to escape. “Have fun.”

As guardians fought Pitch and sent him back to his realm, you ate your salad and cheered them on. They knew you had a busy day, and they could easily handle a man who was in over his head. It had only taken a few minutes.

You let them stay for lunch. You had enough harvest to share. 

“Thanks for the rabbit food,” Jack said. 

“Oi, I’d watch your tongue, Frosty,” Bunny said. 

You only shook your head. “You’re welcome, but I must thank all of you. It’s been hard, but I’m glad to say I have friends like you.”

When they left, Jack hugged you and smiled. “Hey, I got you something.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“It’s for me, too.” He held up two bells, one blue and one white. “Ring this when you need me.” You took the white one and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

That night, no soul called out to you. You had an entire night to yourself. When morning came, no souls called. Something was wrong. You were just about to ring you new bell when it rang by itself. Jack was calling you. You grabbed the bell, and your door flew open. The wind scooped you up and flew you North. 

“Jack?!” you called, but he didn’t answer. 

When you were above North’s workshop, the wind dropped you.

Jack caught you. “Hey there.”

“What?!”

He laughed and kissed your forehead before letting you down. “Trust me, it’s going to be fun.” With an overdramatic bow, he held out his hand, “My reaper.”

You rolled your eyes and put your hand in his. Then, the two of you were off. Jack pushed you inside the workshop backwards so your fell into Tooth’s arms. She wrapped something around your eyes just to disappear and let Sandy hold your hand. “Follow you?”

Sandy jingled, so yes. 

Sandy led you somewhere into the workshop, and when you stopped, North’ sand Bunny’s voices were hushed. Jack reassured you, “You’re gonna love this.”

“Not loving the blindfold, though. What’s going on?”

The blindfold was off. 

There was a great noise, like fireworks, and streamers and confetti. “Surprise!” North stepped forward and announced, “You are our new guardian!” He spread out his arms. ‘Ta da!”

You blinked. 

“What?”

“Believe it.” Jack draped his arm around your shoulder and pointed at the skylight where the moon watched the two of you. “That guy up there, he told us last night.” He brought his hand up to cover his whisper to you, “Be grateful I told North to tone it down for you.”

You laughed. “Wait, I’m not a guardian. I’m just a reaper.”

“Our reaper guardian!” Tooth gushed. 

North knelt in front of you and asked, “Little one, you are a guardian, like us. You defied Pitch and helped souls for years, and you learned how to help yourself. That is guardian material right there!”

“Better than some, actually,” Bunny joked.

Jack promptly put his hand to his ear. “I’m sorry, did you hear something? Cause I swore I heard the sound of someone who only has one day as opposed to, I don’t know, a season?” He looked to you. “Guess who has a season? Me!” 

Tooth only rolled her eyes before flying up to you and saying, “Some people can’t take every day jobs.” 

Sandy pointed at her with glee in enthusiastic agreement.

You laughed. “I don’t even know what I’m guardian of!”

Sandy tugged on your robe and pointed at your stomach. 

“He’s right,” Jack said. “It’s your center. At your core, what are you? What do you want to impart on everyone else?”

You wanted to say something like laughter, but that was Jack. He brought you laughter. Before that, you were tired and drained. Really, it was all thanks to Jack for bringing you a balance to life, a steady state where you could be calm and… 

“Peace,” you whispered. As soon as the word left your lips, you felt like everything had fallen into place. It was all a perfect state, and if you could remember only one moment in your life it would be that one. Nothing was out of place. Not you, not your friends, not your struggles. It was all at peace. 

“I’m a reaper,” you stated, “and I’m the new guardian of peace.”

[savethelastdan]

Yashahime Is Over Party: Contribution #2

“All right, all right!” 

The crowd of villagers quieted (some with a wince) as the high-pitched shout rang around the village entrance. Ten-year-old Moroha gave them one last warning glare for good measure. 

With, as her Great-Grandpa on the other side of the Well would say, “more gusto than should be necessary”, she then leapt upon the nearest height-offering surface - one of the tourists’ suitcases, emblazoned a dozen times on every side with “FRAGILE” - and began her welcome speech. 

“Shut your mouths and hold onto your butts, folks, because this is a real treat! The coolest village ever to exist in any timeline, on a sunny day! Since my big brother is at kitsune academy today, you all have the honor of yours truly acting as escort around this prime piece of feudal real estate!” 

Dramatic pause for emphasis. (Yes, she’d taken some liberties with the script that Shippo had left, and she didn’t quite know what ‘prime piece of real estate’ actually meant, but her cousin Towa agreed that it sounded fancy and fancy always worked with humans.) 

A soft-faced young woman glanced around the crowd self-consciously before raising a hand. “You mean, this is the village where priestess Kikyo - ���

“Ahem!” Moroha held up the wooden sign hanging from her neck, tapping the carved-in letters spelling ‘Village Tour Guide #2” with one nail. “Are you wearin’ the sign?”

“Oh. Uh, sorry.” The woman blushed. 

After a moment, Moroha cleared her throat. “Okay, yeah, it is. But there’s a bunch of other super-cool people here, too! If you wanna meet them - follow me!” With that, she jumped from the suitcase to land solidly in the dirt. A few tourists reared back from the cloud of disturbed dust, putting them at the back of the moving crowd. 

“First up, the sister of the blah-dee-blah-famed-priestess-blah-dee-blah Kikyo - Lady Kaedeeeeee!” She swung both arms in a dramatic half-circle towards the healer woman’s hut; the crowd ooh-ed and ah-ed appropriately. “On days like these, she’s either healing a sick patient, birthin’ a new baby, or taking a long nap! Since she’s awfully old, the napping’s more frequent.” Hooking an arm around a teenage tourist’s shoulder, she hissed in a spooky tone, “Some say she’ll live forever, getting older and older until she’s like a living zombie-” 

“I heard that.” With a cross expression, Kaede leaned out of the window.“Don’t think I won’t curse you for those bad manners.”

Moroha waved the group on with a nervous chuckle. 

“And this is the home of the most famous demon slayer known to womankind - Sango!” Cupping both hands around her mouth like a bullhorn, Moroha drew out the last syllable of the woman’s name to emphasize her coolness. Several of the humans perked up with excitement; it wasn’t hard to imagine that they had themselves benefited from some of the woman’s work. 

“Her husband Miroku lives here too. He used to be a monk, but now he’s a family guy! My papa says -” She straightened, putting on a deep, gruff tone - “it’s a damn miracle -” Dropping the tone, she grinned cheerily at the group - “nobody will tell me why!” 

As if on cue, the door to the house opened to reveal a group of tall, bickering young adults. The loudest were two women with matching features, the only visible difference to a stranger being that one’s slayer outfit was trimmed in pink and the other’s in green. Behind them trotted a younger boy, also wearing a slayer outfit in red.  

“I’m taking the kusarigama, you’re taking the wakizashi!” The green-outfitted slayer said, ignoring her sister’s attempts to talk over her. “Otherwise you and Mom will have two long-range weapons, and that makes no sense!” 

“Plus that’s Uncle Kohaku’s specialty!” Their brother piped up; he dodged the twin elbows that swung back at him as easily as if they’d warned him. “She wants to impress him with it so he’ll take her on his trip to the mountains with Rin this summer!” 

Through the left-open door, came the sweet smell of treats baking - one of the many hobbies Miroku had taken up with his time, now that he wasn’t going to up and die (Moroha knew she wasn’t technically supposed to know about that. Or probably phrase it like that… But if her godfather Koga said it that way, why was it any different for her?)

The group of slayers stopped short upon seeing the crowd; with awkward bows, they quickly skirted their way around the gaping tourists. 

““That’s Sango’s kids; every one of ‘em demon slayer prodigies.” Slinging her arm around the same teen from earlier, Moroha shook her head with a dramatic sigh. “Makes me almost want another sibling. Except then I’d have to share my room, nooooo thank you!”

“Excuse me.” A mustached man in the middle of the group raised one arm curiously. “I heard one of those women mention Rin - is that the human who died twice and was resurrected by the sword Tenseiga?” 

“Huh? Oh, yeah. That’s Rin.” Moroha tapped her own head thoughtfully and muttered under her breath, “Was it really only twice…”

“Does she still live here?” The man’s mustache drooped in a frown. “Or did she go to live with that dog demon?”

“Dog demon? Ohhh, you mean Uncle Sesshomaru!” A smile stretched across her face. “I almost forgot about him! Nah, after she got married she decided to stay in town -” 

“Married?!” The group erupted in murmurs of horror. One kerchiefed mother clapped her hands over the ears of her daughter; the mustached man turned green.

Moroha’s face fell. “Well, yeah. She wanted to keep taking healer lessons from Kaede, and even though he travels a lot, she wanted to stay by Kohaku’s side when he comes home. Be a team, and all that.” 

“Ohhhh, so she’s Kohaku’s wife!” The human mother’s shoulders slumped with a sigh. “How lovely and age-appropriate.” 

Moroha wasn’t sure what that meant, but if it made the negative energy go away then she was all for it! “Rin’s super cool, anyway. She knows how to heal demons, not just humans, and she tells really good ghost stories, and she’s actually really good at arm-wrestling -” 

Suddenly she ducked her head to whisper, “She’s probably my favorite cousin, if I’m bein’ honest with ya.”

 “Do you have other cousins?” A man who appeared to look a thousand years old squinted in her direction. Perhaps in confusion, but it was hard to tell with all the wrinkles. “I doubt a full-blooded dog demon like that Sesshomaru fella would leave his legacy in the hands of a human girl.” 

“My mom would say that’s prejudiced,” Moroha said helpfully, causing the old man to blanche. “But Rin’s got two little sisters, who you can see riiiiiiight now!” 

With a dramatic twist, she whirled around to point in the opposite direction with both hands, adding a low growl that was meant to mimic the roar of an excited crowd. 

The moment was slightly underwhelmed by the confused looks of the tourists as they took a moment to figure out where exactly to look. That’s okay; she’d work on it. 

Down the road, her twin cousins leaned against the wall of a house (Moroha’s house, which she was saving for last because you always save the best for last). Towa was smiling and pointing out something up in the sky, while Setsuna wore a very predictable scowl. From this far away, the red streaks in their hair were little more than smudges. 

The extremely old man with an attitude problem made a weird hacking noise, most likely in surprise. 

“Did he adopt them like your other cousin?” asked a teenage girl. 

“Kinda!” Both hands landed on her hips; Moroha then modeled her expression on her Uncle - stoic, dismissive, oh-so-cool. “On a cool spring night, Uncle Sesshomaru walked into the darkest, deepest forest on the planet, waved his sword over a really old and creepy tree, and when he cut it open - there they were. Two lil’ hanyou babies.” 

Dramatic pause. 

“Just kiddin’.” Laughing loud enough to bring back the wincing from the group, Moroha slapped her knee. “They’re full demons. I can still take either of ‘em in a fight, though. Oh!” She pointed up in the air with a wide, excited smile. “There’s their mom right now!” 

Murmurs of confusion filled the air as the tourists moved their heads this way, that way; only when a chilling breeze morphed into flesh and bone, right before their eyes, did the group exclaim in collective understanding. 

Moroha waved. “Hi, Auntie Kagura!” 

“Yo.” Clearly taken aback by the crowd, the wind demon gave a tiny salute. The side of her neck bore a half-moon symbol tattooed on the skin; Moroha thought it was neat, even if her dad thought it was a dumb, archaic wedding ritual. “Do your parents know you’re doing this?” 

“Uh, duh!” She held up the sign with a cheeky grin. 

“Fair enough.” Upon spying her daughters across the way, Kagura’s expression softened a bit. “Well, I’ll see you later.” 

“No, wait! We’re actually heading the same way.” Gesturing to the not-moving crowd, Moroha repeated, “The same way. Meaning the best part of the tour - come on, folks, work with me here -” 

Kagura snorted, walking quickly as though to avoid the gawking humans and their nosy questions about how she had been resurrected or could still live now that Naraku was dead or got Sesshomaru to admit he had feelings much less have kids with her. A curt “none of your business” was all they’d get, no matter how much Moroha tugged on her sleeve and whined about “giving people their money’s worth.”

Luckily, once they reached Moroha’s house, it was easy to escape. After all, a much more awe-inspiring attraction awaited the group of lucky, lucky tourists. 

“And now! The Greatest Love Story Of Our Time!” With a winning grin, Moroha landed a kick on the door, sending it slamming open. 

“Oh.” Kagome blinked at the group from where she sat on a futon in the middle of the house, surrounded by magical artifacts. A scroll marked with ink rolled from her lap all the way to one side of the room. Behind her, halfway through helping her put her hair in a bun, Inuyasha froze “Uh, hello?”

“My parents! Dumdedumdummmmm!” The warmth of her pride felt like it was going to burst in her chest. It was the absolute best to come home to people who loved her! Whether it was tickle fights before bed, or her dad taking her and Shippo out on demon-tracking trips, or her mom humming a lullaby if she felt sick on the full moon night, Moroha was certain her family was the best of anybody’s anywhere. “One fell through time, and one fell -- fell, uh, for her -- sorry, I’ll work on it.” 

Inuyasha huffed in the way that meant he was going to complain later. Kagome just chuckled and waved. 

For once, the humans reacted exactly the way Moroha wanted them to - smiling, clapping, appreciating the wonder of her super-beautiful-and-also-hella-powerful mom and grumpy-but-still-amazingly-brave papa. She launched into the story she knew by heart, of how they had come to be together and saved the whole world while they were at it. Some parts were probably missing or misrepresented, from the laughter in her mom’s eyes, but she had enough of it right that half the tourist group was in near tears by the time she was done. 

“And now, they have one more accomplishment to add to the long list - parenting the greatest warrior this world has ever seen. Moro-uh, Beniyasha!” Swirling the ends of her fire-rat robe, she twirled. “The Crimson Slayer!”

“Slayer of my patience, maybe,” Inuyasha snapped, though he was unable to hide his smile as he marched over to grab her by the collar. “Come ‘ere, kid. You’ve got chores to do!” 

Tossing her over his shoulder, he waved dismissively at the group of humans. “Sorry folks, the show ends here. Yeesh...” 

Moroha cupped both hands around her mouth, screeching to be heard over her parent’s laughter before the door shut.

“Make sure to leave your comment cards in the box at the entrance!”

[misscampacyn]

Imagine Oberyn discovers you are his niece he believed was killed by the mountain. PT 2

PART 1

You and Sansa sat in the garden enjoying tea and lemon cakes. Sansa looks behind you and paused he movement, you turn to find Prince Oberyn and Ellaria.

“Lady (Y/N), it is perfect to see you, Tyrion said you’d be here with Lady Sansa.”

You both stand and offer the pair to join your midday gathering. The prince and his paramour sit looking towards the you and Sansa/ Ellaria is the first to speak, “forgive my question, but why aren’t you married yet?”

You place you cup on the table and look at the woman with a faint smile on your face. You were uncomfortable by the question, but your governess had taught you to hide your feelings.

“My father has not arranged one for me yet.”

“What of your mother?” asks Oberyn.

“She died when I was young.”

Oberyn nods taking a bite of a lemon cake, “you don’t look like a Lannister.”

Sansa looks at the prince and smiles, “I’m glad she doesn’t.” Oberyn smiles at the Stark girl, “why is that? Have you two known each other long?” Sansa lowers her tea to the table and glances around to see there is not Lannister spies around, “Lannister are ruthless. (Y/N) and I have known each other since the attack at the capital.” Oberyn nods and returns his gaze at you, “I am glad you both are friends.”

After a couple of minutes in silence Oberyn asks an unexpected question, “Do you remember your mother?”

You nod slowly, “I don’t remember much of her. I remember she would sing, and she had dark hair like mine.”

“She must have been beautiful, like you my lady,” says Ellaria.

“Father informed me I had an accident; I was struck in the head by an enemy. I lost all my memories of my mother.”

“I wonder why your father has had you hidden all this time.”

You are about to answer when you were interrupted by your father approaching.

“Prince Oberyn,” he acknowledges. “(Y/N) you are needed in the throne room.”

You apologize to Sansa and the Dornish pair before heading to the throne room. Tywin glances at Sansa, “Tyrion is also of need of you.” Sansa bids goodbye and leaves in a hurry. Oberyn stands and Tywin glares at him, “do not speak with her.”

Oberyn grins at the threat, “Lord Tywin I do not see the harm in speaking to the hidden Lannister. After all she is of the same age as my niece.”

Tywin says nothing but turns and leaves. Once he left Ellaria turns to her lover, “do you believe it is her?”

“She looks like her.”

“You should talk to her lover.”

Oberyn smile and kisses her passionately.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After dinner you decided to walk in the gardens, alone. You tried to remember your mother, why could you not remember her or the accident? Why did your father refuse to speak about her? You were too distracted to notice Oberyn had followed you.

“You have her eyes,”

You freeze and turn around to look at the person who had followed you to through the garden. The prince stood there his hands behind his back.

“Who?”

“Your mother.”

“My mother? You met her?”

“I grew up with her.”

“How did you know my mother?”

“She was from Dorne.”  

You frown and start to walk back into the keep finding this too overwhelming. Oberyn gently grabs your forearm preventing you from leaving, “I’m sorry.” You look at the prince with sadden eyes. “You hate Lannisters, I’m a Lannister.” He gives you a sad smile.

“I don’t think you’re a Lannister.”

“I am a Lannister.”

Oberyn got irritated that you were clamming to be part of the family that killed your brother and mother. “You were taken from your mother, Elia.”

“Elia?” you ask unsure.

“Yes.”

You don’t say anything, but you pull away and run back to the keep in search of Tyrion. When you got closer to your brother’s room you run into Bronn. “Why are you in a rush, my lady?” he asks glancing behind you to see if you were being followed.

“I need to talk to Tyrion.”

“He is in the study,”

You nod and thank him. Once you reach Tyrion’s study and knock, you hear a faint com in and open the door.

“How can I help you (Y/N)?”

“Is my mother’s name Elia?”

Tyrion looks are you shocked.

“Prince Oberyn told me she was Dronish.”

“Oberyn?”

You start pacing around Tyrion’s study nervously, “He followed me to the garden and told me he grew up with her.”

“Yes your mother’s name was Elia.”

“Was she Dornish?”

“Yes.”

“Am I even a Lannister?”

Tyrion walks up to you and grabs your hand stopping you from pacing.

“My dear this does not leave the room.”

You nod and look at your brother.

“You mother’s name was Elia Martell. She was married to Rhaegar Targaryen. She had you and a boy. Rhaegar left her for Lyanna Stark which started a war. Rumor has it Gregor Clegane killed both you and your brother, then raped and killed Elia with his long sword,” Tears stream down your face. “But you ran, hid, Jamie found you and took you to my father. He decided he would use you to torture the Martells. He took you to Casterly Rock, raised you as a Lannister. Hid you from the world.”

“My mother and bother were killed by the mountain,” you voice softly in a strained voice.

“Oberyn Martell is your uncle, and I am not your brother.”

“You’ll always be my brother, this will nee to be kept secret.”

Tyrion nodded and both of you share a hug. Leaving you in an inner battle, to find out more about your mother. You knew that would have to wait another day.

[trilliastra]

[Xicheng AU. Entirely self-indulgent. I love Jiang Cheng and I want him to be happy with Lan Xichen.]

-

I.

When Lan Xichen arrives at the gates, he finds Lan Hao frowning and trying to hold a clearly distressed Jin Ling. The boy is squirming desperately in his hold, screaming and crying, and Lan Xichen sighs.

He isn’t the first child to cry because he misses home. Many, including the older disciples, have cried, had nightmares, tried to run back to their families. Gusu Lan isn’t the most welcoming Sect, their many rules leaving most feeling confined, suffocated and desperate for a way out. He did not consider the young Master Jin would be one of them, though.

The boy arrived dressed in gold, back straight and a glare on his face. He did not talk to others his age, frowned when another disciple tried to talk to him and got himself in more verbal altercations than Wei – than others ever had. And he is only seven.

The two week meeting was created to build intersect alliances, have the children meet earlier would only make their future connections stronger, establish their trust in each other before they began training and studying together as teenagers, holding the future of the Cultivation world on their backs.

Honestly, Lan Xichen did not even think Jin Ling would join – his status as future Sect Leader and nephew of the infamous Sandu Sengshou weighting heavily on his young shoulders.

“What happened?”

Lan Hao bows awkwardly as he still tries to hold the boy in his arms and answers, “he tried to run. Young Master Jin made it as far as Gusu before a disciple saw him.”

Oh, that was dangerous. Lan Xichen has no idea what both Jin Guangyao and Jiang Cheng would do to him if something happened to their nephew. “Young Master Jin,” he says, gesturing for Lan Hao to let the boy down. Jin Ling wipes his tears away, performs an awkward bow and then proceeds to glare at him. Lan Xichen smiles softly, impressed, “would you mind telling me why you did that?”

“I wanted to go home!” Jin Ling answers, still glaring. Lan Hao opens his mouth to berate him, but Lan Xichen stops him with a wave. “It is Jiujiu’s birthday and he said I’d be home by now.” He sniffles. “I wanted to see him.”

Lan Xichen’s heart breaks as he thinks about all the things, all the people Jin Ling lost even before he knew what loss truly is. And he thinks about the people that stayed, Madam Jin, Jin Guangyao, Jiang Cheng… it brings back memories of his own – snow, a boy without his mother, two brothers and an uncle trying to be a family, love and pain, tears.

“I believe,” the words come out of his mouth without his permission, but Lan Xichen finds that he doesn’t mind. A better world can only be built on kindness, on doing what one believes is right, “that can be arranged.” He unsheathes his sword, offers his hand for Jin Ling to take and smiles when the boy’s eyes light up.

-

“Do you miss your family when you’re away from home?” Jin Ling asks as they fly above the woods.

“Yes.”

“So, it doesn’t stop when you grow up?”

Lan Xichen chuckles. “I’m afraid not.” He says, holding Jin Ling tightly against his chest. Lan Hao insisted he would do it, he’d fly Jin Ling to Lotus Pier and bring him back as quickly as possible, and if it were another child Lan Xichen might have let him do it, but Jin Ling will be a Sect Leader, he is in danger just by existing, Lan Xichen would be careless to put his life in the hands of a disciple, no matter how strong or competent they might be. “You do not stop loving your family when you become older.”

Jin Ling hums in answer. “I did not want to leave.” He confesses, eventually, his cheeks red. “Jiujiu insisted, he said I should make friends, meet people I could trust for when I become Sect Leader.” Lan Xichen blinks, surprised. He did not think Jiang Cheng would say such words, did not think he would give this sort of advice, not after refusing Lan Xichen’s help the first time around, not after kicking Sect Leader Yao away when the man proposed a business deal. But, Lan Xichen realizes, that says more about them than about Jiang Cheng.

Lan Xichen has done nothing to earn this kind of trust.

“I do not want to become Sect Leader.” Jin Ling keeps talking. “I do not want to leave Jiujiu alone. I am all he has.” He covers his mouth with one hand, surprised, and blushing even harder. He probably didn’t mean to say it, but Lan Xichen smiles at the child’s kindness. It is good to know that the new generation is better than them.

It is good to know Jin Ling has inherited his mother’s heart.

-

A group of disciples are waiting for them in front of the gates of Lotus Pier. They all stare at him curiously, hands on their swords, but when Jin Ling jumps down, the Head Disciple smiles at him.

“What are you doing here?” She asks, kneeling in front of the boy.

“It’s Jiujiu’s birthday!” He shouts, smiling excitedly. He has never talked or smiled like that in Gusu Lan, would probably be scolded by one of the disciples if he did. Sometimes Lan Xichen wants to burn down their rules, dreams about starting anew, a fresh set of norms, a happier life. A utopia.

“He is in his office.” She says, and Jin Ling starts running immediately, golden robes flying behind him. “Sect Leader Lan,” she bows, Lan Xichen nods in return, “if you would follow me.”

“Oh, no.” He waves her off, smiling. He should give Jin Ling and his uncle some privacy. “Let them be,” he says, “but I wouldn’t say no to a glass of water.”

She blinks at him, surprised, but eventually laughs. “Of course.”

-

From his seat outside the throne room, Lan Xichen watches the lotus on the river, the children swimming freely.

He hasn’t been to Lotus Pier in a long time. Longer than ten years, most likely. All Intersect conferences are held on neutral ground and after – after everything, he always preferred to stay close to home. He knew his Uncle needed him, knew Wangji was on the verge of a breakdown, knew his little nephew needed stability. He knew, knew – all excuses, Lan Xichen realizes.

He is but a coward, afraid to face one of the Sects that suffered the most from Gusu’s neutrality, ashamed to face the man that endured it all alone, who rebuilt his house and even had the time to raise a wonderful boy by himself.

This could have been him; this could have been his own reality and Lan Xichen cannot bear that thought, cannot face a reality that could have been his own.

“Sect Leader Lan,” the Head Disciple calls, “Sect Leader Jiang would like to see you.” Lan Xichen nods, standing up. He follows her through the buildings, the smell of spring following him. It is going to rain, he notices, and realizes he might not be able to make it home tonight.

“Zewu-jun,” Jiang Cheng bows as Lan Xichen enters his office. Lan Xichen performs a bow of his own and smiles when he notices Jin Ling is perched on his uncle’s chair, eating from a bowl of soup almost desperately, “I apologize, he shouldn’t have – ”

He shakes his head. “There’s no need for apology. It was for a good cause.” Lan Xichen watches as Jiang Cheng’s ears turn pink and he risks a glance at his nephew. He tries to hold back a smile, but clearly fails when Jin Ling looks up and smiles as well.

“I – I do not know what to say.” Jiang Cheng confesses, clearly taken back by the gesture and perhaps, the words. He is not used to being on the receiving end of great gestures, Lan Xichen realizes, he is not used to being considered important for someone, even the nephew he single-handedly raised.

Lan Xichen feels his heart break and, horrifyingly, finds himself fighting back tears. Oh, this man deserves so much more than what he has.

“I am sorry.” Lan Xichen says, watches as Jiang Cheng’s eyes widen in surprise. “I should have done more for you and your people.”

Jiang Cheng opens his mouth, probably to deny it, but upon seeing Lan Xichen’s decisive stare, he only nods. “Thank you for your words.” He says, finally.

“Please, allow me to fix this.” Lan Xichen finds himself asking, begging. It is for his own peace of mind, but it is also for Jiang Cheng and for Jin Ling, for the people of Lotus Pier who have watched their home burn and fought hard to build it back.

“I do not know how you could.” Jiang Cheng points out.

Lan Xichen nods in agreement. “I do not know either, now, but –” Wangji isn’t the only stubborn one in the family, Lan Xichen just holds a position where he is not allowed to be like that, “I will find a way.” He promises, determined.

-

II.

He starts visiting Lotus Pier every other week. His uncle gives him worried glances and Wangji frowns every time Lan Xichen comes back. He is aware of his brother’s distaste for Jiang Cheng, does not blame him for it, but he refuses to hold it against the other man.

Anger and fear have a way of bringing out the worst in them. He cannot imagine how those emotions plus sorrow and the feeling of betrayal can do to someone.

Jiang Cheng stares at him confusedly every time he arrives, but he doesn’t send him away, only offers him a room, food and lets him roam around freely. Jin Ling is more welcoming and Lan Xichen finds himself indulging in the boy’s desires, bringing him toys and an occasional treat he buys during his trip.

He’s not doing much – one could say he’s doing nothing at all, but Jiang Cheng seems less worried when Lan Xichen is next to him to observe the disciples train, so he considers it a good thing.

It is only on his fourth visit that he notices the new disciples. Two boys, not much older than fifteen; they can barely hold their swords, they are so weak and green, but they want to learn, that much is clear, and they listen to every other Jiang Cheng or their Head Disciple – Jiang Daiyu – says, adapting just as quickly as the others.

He does not think much of it. Word goes around that the Yunmeng Jiang Sect is back to the way it was before it was destroyed and even though Jiang Cheng holds a reputation for being ruthless, he’s also known as a strong leader, protective of his people and his home.

Two months later, Lan Xichen notices another disciple. After that, it’s a new cook that makes Jin Ling’s favorite mooncakes. Another month and Jiang Cheng is helping his people build a new house for a family of five, the father is a farmer with bags under his eyes, but a serene look every time his children hug him.

And they don’t stop coming.

Yunmeng Jiang Sect is not only growing, it is thriving, and Lan Xichen has never seen their people look so happy.

“You have accomplished the impossible.” He tells Jiang Cheng one afternoon when they are parting ways. Jiang Cheng’s face turns red, and Lan Xichen has to hide a smile behind his own hand.

Jiang Cheng looks like he wants to deny it, but Lan Xichen is flying away before he can speak. He will leave him with that thought.

-

III.

“You must stop.” His uncle says after a year. Honestly, Lan Xichen is surprised it took him so long to speak up his thoughts. “It is not – appropriate.”

“I am simply helping a friend.” Lan Xichen answers. Out of the corner of his eye he notices Wangji flinch. His brother’s relationship with their uncle have been strained ever since the Sunshot Campaign, but it is not surprising that they agree on this matter. His uncle deems inappropriate to show preference towards a sect and Wangji thinks Jiang Cheng is responsible for Wei Wuxian’s fall.

Lan Xichen sighs. He is their Leader so they do not have any sort of power over him, but Lan Xichen would much rather not fight with his family.

He takes a sip of his tea, tries to sort out his thoughts. “Xichen –” his uncle starts, but Lan Xichen stops him by raising a hand.

“We abandoned him.” He finally says. “He lost his entire family and no one offered to help him, not without wanting something in return.” Lan Xichen explains. He came to realize this recently, but it is the greatest truth. The Jin Sect has an interest on Jin Ling, Sect Leader Yao wanted to trade his crops for the rice Yunmeng Jiang grows, smaller sects had sent letters and letters proposing marriage in exchange for sending supplies – Lan Xichen watched Jiang Cheng burn those letters with a huff while Jiang Daiyu cracked her knuckles, angrily.

“He chose his path.” Wangji offers. “They are all scared of him.”

“Rightfully so.” Lan Xichen comments. He’s seen what Jiang Cheng can do with his sword; he’s seen the full power of Zidian when a mercenary tried to kidnap Jin Ling. “But for the wrong reasons.”

Lan Xichen turns to his brother, waits for him to finish his tea. “He’s saving those people, Wangji.” His brother frowns. “He’s seeking the ones using resentful energy and he’s trying to save them.”

Wangji’s eyes widen immediately, but soon enough his expression goes from surprised to furious. “He’s looking for him,” there’s no need to ask who him is, “and killing them!”

“They are joining his sect, Wangji.” He tells his brother, then turns to his uncle. “I’ve seen it. The two boys who disappeared in the middle of the night after attempting to summon their mother’s spirit? They are training at Yunmeng Jiang, eating their food,” he adds, “playing with Jin Ling.”

Wangji stands up immediately, the cup he was holding falls on the ground, breaking in tiny pieces. He leaves the jingshi, angry, hurt, desolated, and Lan Xichen wants to follow him, wrap him up in a hug, but his brother is not five anymore and Lan Xichen cannot fight his battles for him, cannot heal the wounds caused by the loss of a loved one.

He closes his eyes. Lan Xichen did not want to have to choose between them, he’s been avoiding this conversation for that exact reason.

“Uncle –” it’s his uncle’s turn to raise his hand.

“I want to see it.” He says, finally, and Lan Xichen sighs. Jiang Cheng will absolutely hate this.

-

IV.

“I’m sorry.” Lan Xichen says, bowing deeply in front of Jiang Cheng. His uncle is now watching the Yunmeng Jiang disciples closely, walking amongst them – a judge deciding his sentence.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t answer, keeps his eyes on Lan Qiren, expectantly, as if waiting for his mentor’s approval. It makes Lan Xichen remember how young the man still is.

“Very well.” Lan Qiren says, finally, turning towards them. He stops in front of Jiang Cheng and nods. “Thank you for allowing me entrance in your home.”

Jiang Cheng only answer is to bow, eyes widening when Lan Qiren bows back. “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

Lan Qiren does not smile, but his expression softens and he turns to Lan Xichen, waiting for his answer.

“We would love to.” Lan Xichen says and his uncle nods.

-

“Be careful.” Lan Qiren warns, later, when they’ve arrived home. “Do not let yourself get blinded by love.”

Lan Xichen takes a deep breath, heart skipping a beat. Of course, his uncle would notice, he is surprised Wangji hasn’t seen it yet, but again, his brother might have and that could be just one of the reasons why he is so angry.

“I won’t.” He vows.

-

V.

Lan Xichen is getting ready for his monthly visit to Lotus Pier when A-Yuan asks to join him. His nephew is almost twelve, bright eyes, strong golden core, big curiosity for all things, Lan Xichen isn’t exactly surprised by the request, but he doesn’t know how to answer without either hurting the boy or hurting Wangji.

In the end, his brother makes the decision for him. “I do not like him. I never will.” Wangji says, later that night. “But I respect what he is doing, and I respect you. If you trust him, then I trust him too.”

Lan Xichen swallows heavily, closes his fists to stop himself from reaching out and pulling his brother into a hug.

“But A-Yuan is my son, he – if anything –”

“Wangji,” Lan Xichen interrupts him, one hand on his shoulder, “he knows.”

Wangji’s eyes widen in surprise and he looks almost accusatory; Lan Xichen would feel hurt about the implications that he’d ever break his brother’s trust, but he supposes Wangji is entitled to his anger, he’s lost the love of his life, could not handle losing his son.

“He recognized him.” Xichen explains. They haven’t talked about it, exactly, but Jiang Cheng has made it clear he knows – “Your nephew looks well, I am sorry he had to suffer so much at such a young age.” – and if there’s something Jiang Cheng and Wangji have in common is this – A-Yuan, A-Ling.

Wangji nods, eyes softening, and the next morning A-Yuan meets him at the gates, excited to meet a new place.

-

“I don’t think Jin Ling likes him.” Lan Xichen comments, watching Jin Ling glare at A-Yuan when his nephew disarms him, Suihua flying away from Jin Ling’s hand. The sword is too heavy for Jin Ling to use it comfortably, but he insisted on fighting A-Yuan, three years his senior, with a real sword. He lost his balance many times, and even though it is obvious he has a good posture, is smart enough to understand A-Yuan’s style and respond accordingly, the sword is clearly still too heavy for him.

Jiang Cheng huffs out a laugh. “He is just annoyed.” He just his chin at them and Lan Xichen watches Jin Ling stand up, adjust his clothes and then promptly throw himself at A-Yuan, making both of them fall right into the lake. Lan Xichen jumps, startled; he is moving to help them when the two boys resurface, laughing breathlessly.

Jiang Cheng smiles knowingly and says, “A-Ling likes him.” He keeps smiling, watching his nephew – both his nephews? – splash water around, giggling happily.

Lan Xichen’s heart skips a beat; he cannot look away from Jiang Cheng’s smile, finds himself hypnotized by the way his entire expression softens, the lines around his eyes disappearing. He looks ten years younger and too much like the young man Lan Xichen first met, without worries, without the responsibility of an entire sect on his back.

Lan Xichen supposes he was like that too, younger, naïve. They cannot go back in time, but they can move forward. “I am in love with you.” Lan Xichen confesses, his voice barely a whisper, but Jiang Cheng hears it anyway, turning to him with wide eyes.

“What did you say?”

“I am in love with you.” Lan Xichen repeats, louder this time. When Jiang Cheng does not move, he reaches out for his hand, squeezes it tightly. “I do not expect an answer, I just thought you deserved to hear it.”

Jiang Cheng keeps blinking confusedly, frozen in place. Lan Xichen smiles again, takes a step back. He did not have any hope and Jiang Cheng’s reaction is enough answer to his unspoken question. They are not meant to be, but even though Lan Xichen does not have Jiang Cheng’s heart, he has his friendship, and he will make sure to treasure it.

“I should go.”

“No.” Jiang Cheng nearly shouts, holding him back. “You cannot expect me to answer immediately, this is – I never thought –”

“I understand.”

“No, you don’t.” He stresses, frustrated. “I thought – this – this never crossed my mind. I always felt –” he huffs, angrily, and shakes his head, “why can’t I make sense?”

“Jiang Cheng,” Lan Xichen smiles fondly, “you do not have to –”

“I thought you were doing it out of pity,” Jiang Cheng confesses, looking away, “I know it is not who you are, and I am not proud to admit I doubted your words, but I never thought I deserved your friendship, or – or other feelings.”

Lan Xichen closes his eyes, takes a deep breath in an effort to hide his tears. This – this hurts so much, Jiang Cheng should know he deserves love, kindness, happiness. He should know he is more than just a Sect Leader, he’s more than his father’s son, Wei Wuxian’s brother. He is a brave, strong man, who refused to give up in the face of hardships, who made mistakes and is trying to make up for them; a man who is not perfect, who does not see himself as perfect, and keeps trying to get better, to be better, for his Sect, his people, and especially for his nephew.

Lan Xichen wants to say all that and more, but he knows Jiang Cheng will refute every word. “I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.”

Jiang Cheng smiles, sadly, “sometimes I wish so, too.” He squeezes Lan Xichen’s hand. “But Lan Xichen, Zewu-jun, Lan Huan – you are in love with me, and I am in love with you, so – I think that might be enough.”

Oh, Lan Xichen laughs, blissful. Yes, it is enough, he doesn’t say, but as he pulls Jiang Cheng into a hug, he whispers in his ear, “you will see. Someday. I will make sure of it.”

It is a new promise.

-

VI.

Lan Xichen is undressing when Jiang Cheng returns, slamming the door behind him with a groan. He mutters an apology when Lan Xichen raises an eyebrow, but otherwise does not say anything, only drops his sword on the nearest chair and begins undressing as well.

Bad days aren’t rare when you are a sect leader, but Jiang Cheng usually keeps those out of their bedroom, unless they are related to Lan Xichen himself, or worse: Jin Ling.

“Wanyin,” he tries, but Jiang Cheng ignores him, making him even more worried, “talk to me, please.” He reaches out for Jiang Cheng’s hand, sighs in relief when the other man accepts his touch.

“Jin Ling ran away from Carp Tower,” oh, oh, Jiang Cheng isn’t angry, he is worried, “apparently he got into a fight with other disciples, punched two in the face and then ran away before Jin Guangyao could scold him.” Lan Xichen holds back a laugh, it is so adorable how Jin Ling always comes back to Lotus Pier when he’s seeking comfort and Jiang Cheng, oh, his lovely husband, keeps trying to scold him and failing abysmally at being a stern uncle.

If Lan Xichen was one to gamble, he’d bet his sword the boy is now in his room, eating a delicious meal happily. Jin Ling is an incredible kid, smart, loyal, kind, but also spoiled rotten by both his uncles, and especially, by Jiang Cheng.

“He would not do it without motive.” Lan Xichen reasons, runs a hand over Jiang Cheng’s back softly, smiles when his husband leans into his touch.

“I know,” Jiang Cheng answers, “but he will be their leader one day, he cannot keep making enemies. He cannot be like me.”

Lan Xichen feels the words in his chest, heart breaking a little at the pained tone in Jiang Cheng’s voice. “There’s nothing wrong with you, and there’s nothing wrong with Jin Ling.” He asserts. “He is a boy still. Jin Ling is learning how to be himself and showing that he will not accept offenses or wrongdoings. He is showing his strength, Wanyin. You taught him that.”

Jiang Cheng takes a deep breath, leans into Lan Xichen’s shoulder. Lan Xichen loves being a source of comfort for his husband, adores being able to help him feel less heavy, with less darker thoughts.

“I love you,” Jiang Cheng says, later, his head resting on Lan Xichen’s chest, eyes closed, “you are my light.” Lan Xichen’s heart reacts in the same way it always does when he hears his husband repeat those words, it stops for a millisecond and then picks up speed, beating for Jiang Cheng, always for him.

“I love you,” Lan Xichen says back, “I will always love you.”

It is a promise and he always keeps his promises, especially the most important ones.

[su-univeralai]

GOOODDDD MORRNNNNIINNNGGGGG SUU 💛

I am here for your essay. Or yknow, just any dunebaby facts that you can spare.

*heavy breathing* oh no, she's come for my OCs exactly like she said she would.

lolol Ok, I've got bios on 9 out of 10 of my kids so far, but I wrote a quick blurb about them so hopefully you can't figure out who I didn't start until now lol. The older 4 (which 3/4 are legit characters in LOK, but tweaked to my liking) are grown-ass adults while the other 6 are probably between 14-21. So, our beloved Taang parents have been popping kids out from when they were 18 or 19 to 39 or 40 years old.

At some point I'll make a family tree for you, since most of the older dunebabies have their own families and that can be confusing. Some have more information than others, but more will be added on each of them as time goes on. I just haven't figured them out yet.

Also, gonna put a cut here, because it's a long post and I know not everyone wants to see my OCs lol.

Ok Onto the Dunebabies from oldest to youngest:

Gyatso (M) Airbender, 35: Named after Aang’s father figure, Gyatso is Toph and Aang’s first born and first of several airbending children. He has a knack for the art and excelled quickly with mastering it, narrowly falling short of beating Aang’s record of mastering airbending at 13. As he got older and his parents continued having children, he became like a father figure to the younger ones. That’s the best part about having tons of kids, right? At some point the older ones raise the younger ones and the parents can just have fun. Once Tiao Wu turned 13, Gyatso and his own wife, boyfriend, and kids moved away from home and resided in the Western Air Temple with some Air Acolytes.

Lin (F) Earthbender, 32: Lin is a straight arrow, always following the rules. Sometimes Toph’s jokes that her first born daughter is actually Katara’s because wasn’t as goofy as Gyatso and Tenzin. As kids, Lin and Tenzin butted heads like no other. They may have had a year or two when they got along, but that was when Lin was training to be a police officer and Tenzin was always out because he was dating Pema. They constantly bicker at family gatherings, but make a mean team when they spar against the other next gen kids. Their twin telepathy (yes, they are twins in my universe) comes into play and they are undefeatable. That is until the triplets becomes masters in their own right. While Lin is a talented earthbender and metalbender, she struggled with picking it up (perhaps because of Toph’s hardcore teaching style). She responded to a “more gentle approach” as Katara would say, and Aang helped her learn the basics until she was ready to take on Toph’s more intense lessons. Lin is definitely closer with Aang than she is with Toph, but goes to mom if something needs to be done quickly and under wraps. Lin works long hours as chief of the police force in republic city, so she doesn’t have much time for romance. When she finds a spare moment for intimacy, she frequents a bar that accepts everyone. She brought Songa with her before her little sis fell in love with (insert steambaby daughter name here).

Tenzin (M) Airbender, 32: Tbh Tenzin still marries Pema and has his four kids, like in LOK. Lol. Unlike the show, with the weight of the whole air nation not on his shoulders, Tenzin was not a serious kid. He played pai sho with the white lotus members and roughed it up with Lin. Tenzin had a difficult time mastering airbending, though. He lacked the spiritual connection that his father and brother easily had. He blamed being stuck with an earthbender in the womb for 9 months at his lack of skill with airbending. His masters airbending at 21 and is pumped to finally get his tattoos. Since Pema is an air acolyte, I'm saying that her parents were also acolytes, and she and Tenzin met as kids and got along really well. They started dating at 16. Tenzin wanted to wait to get his arrows before proposing to her, so they date for 5 long years as Pema cheered him on in the grueling training. Tenzin and Pema eventually move to the Northern Air Temple and kept Teo company.

Suyin (F) Earthbender, 26: Suyin was a troublemaker when she was a kid, always pranking her siblings. She spent way too much time with Sokka. At least that’s what Toph says. Her teenage years, that’s when things became dicey. With Lin on the streets as a cop and Su committing petty crimes, the two were bound to cross paths. After Lin brought her in for whay must have been the thousandth time and Toph had to bail her out, Toph sent her to the her old stomping ground: the Earth Rumble 6. Toph still had her ear in the stadium and stayed in touch with The Boulder, and she thought it’d do her some good to get beat up by other earthbenders. Su stayed with her grandparents and got the structure she needed and got her act together. She got pounded by her opponents the first few years, but she slowly moved her way up the food chain and eventually held her mother’s old title as champion. Once she turned 18, she left to travel the world, meeting up with Kya (can't decide if Kya will be a steambaby or a Sukka baby. Is there a cut name for Sukka babies?). Along the way she met Bataar and fell in love with him and together build zaofu and have all their kids from LOK.

Songa (F) Airbender, 21: The oldest of the triplets to be born. Songa is a calm spirit, she reminds Aang of Yangchen with her way of keeping the peace in their large family. She’s a true romantic like her father and catches the attention of a lot of men, but alas, her heart is won over by one of Katara and Zuko’s daughters, (insert steambaby name here lol). She sees the best in everyone and trusts a little too easily. Watch out though, if you get on her bad side or betray her trust one too many times, her mother’s sass and tongue come out and no one wants to be hit by her earthbending styled airbending. Songa is a talented bender and has a tendency to use her airbending like an earthbender, facing things head on. She can seemlessly switch between styles, but she'd prefer to take her opponents on directly.

Kera (F) Nonbender, 21: Kera is the heart of the triplets. She’s passionate like a firebender and meets conflict head-on like her mom. Being the first non-bender didn’t feel great coming from the lineage of the Avatar and Toph Beifond, strongest earthbender in the world and metalbender originator, but she found peace in being a non-bender when hearing all the stories of Sokka, Suki, Mai, Ty Lee, Teo, and their many other friends taking down bender and non-benders alike. Kera begged her parents to live in the Fire Nation to study under Mai and Ty Lee. Aang and Toph didn’t have any problems with her going, but Zuko and Katara did, fearing she (being a dunebaby) would cause mayhem in the palace. Only after swearing to Zuko that she wouldn’t make a mess did the Fire Lord allow her stay with them. During her time there, she mastered Mai and Ty Lee’s techniques and trained under the Yuyan archers. When she came home, she could beat the other two thirds of her triplets easily. Only when she teams up with the other two, can they take down Lin and Tenzin.

Choekyi (M) Airbender, 21: The last of the triplets to come be birthed. Choekyi is a free spirit, much like his father. He enjoys traveling and meeting new people. As a child (and an adult) he is easily excited and is a very charismatic guy, which gets him far with the ladies in his teens and early twenties. He’s never scared of trying new things, sometimes to his detriment, as he gets hurt a lot for someone light on his toes. His preferred method of transportation is air scooter. Choekyi gets along with Uncle Sokka the most, with his never ending jokes and letting him learn how to throw a boomerang even though he’s a bender. Choekyi spends some time in the swamp with the swamp benders just because he finds them to be hilarious and interesting. This is where he connects with his spirituality and returns to excel in airbending, and earns his tattoos.

Songa and Kera are idenitcal twins, so no one (beside Toph and Choekyi) can tell them apart until Songa earns her arrows. Choekyi looks similar to them, as he is their triplet, but since he came from a different egg, he turns out to be much taller than his sisters. Just imagine Toph's face when she feels three freakin' heartbeats along with hers. Idk if that's scientifically sound, but it's my universe, so I can say what I want lol.

Gyun (M) Nonbender, 18: He's a very musical guy. Gyun means music, but it can also mean germ or bacteria. So his older siblings make fun of him when he’s young. While his bending siblings practice and spar, he masters most musical instruments and even becomes a skilled singer. He’s a favorite of Uncle Iroh’s and spends time with him playing music and perfecting his tea making when he’s not training with Master Piandao and mastering different types of sword fighting styles. Gyun is a lover, not a fighter, and is recruited as the youngest member of the national opera company. He rises in fame, without having to reveal his high ranking connections to his family members. Gyun is a true renaissance man (you know if the renaissance existed back then). He looks up to all of his siblings and soaks in all the stories and advice his can get to perfect the art of storytelling and acting.

MeiLin (F) Nonbender, 17: MeiLin may be one of the youngest, but she’s definitely the sassiest of the bunch. With the personality like her mother, it’s no wonder she’s a bosslady even from a young age. She doesn’t take shit from anyone. While she’s the beauty of the dunebabies (but who really isn’t attractive in this family?) and can hold her poise better than any royal, from the tender age of three, she’s wanted to become the fiercest fighter in the world. After a lot of convincing, Toph and Aang let her train with Aunt Suki and learn how to fight like a Kyoshi Warrior. After she masters that, She begs her parents to send her to the Fire Nation to study under Mai and Ty Lee. By the time she’s 14, she’s already mastered the art of dagger throwing, chi blocking, and the Kyoshi warriors fighting style. Aang isn’t too pleased that she fights in tournaments like Toph did, but Toph watches every match she can get! MeiLin asks her to bet on her and they split the wealth at the end. Lin wants her youngest sister to join the police force when she turns 18, but MeiLin isn't sure she wants to enforce the law like Lin.

Tiao Wu (M) Earthbender, 14: The baby of the family, and loves it. Unlike MeiLin, Tiao Wu is a homebody and a huge mama’s boy, though really isn’t a mama’s boy in the Beifong Family? Like his name suggests, he’s a great dancer and for an earthbender, he sure is light on his toes. While Gyatso is called Twinkletoes Jr, Tiao Wu is known as the Fancy Dancer. Literally. That’s the stage name he chose for his bending dance competitions. When he’s not dancing or hanging out with Toph, he’s studying his cousin’s bending forms, wanting to incorporate it into his repertoire. Tiao Wu is also close to Aang, as he showed an early talent to be one with the spirits. As a six year old, he would meditate next to Aang and beat the freakin’ Avatar, master of all four elements and bridge between the physical and spiritual world, to the Spirit World. He’s also known to be the only human who is allowed to visit Wong Si Tong’s library there.

ALRIGHT Joy, here are some basic facts about my dunebabies universe. If you or anyone else wants to send me asks so I can more deeply construct their personalities, feel free!