#but then she also jumped on that hole so nevermind
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💚 true love's kiss / magic kiss / healed
i got you anon! sorry this took a while.
💚 true love's kiss / magic kiss / healed for supercorp*
ask meme
THIS ABSOLUTELY RAN AWAY FROM ME IM SO SORRY
---
"your true love is an alien."
well. there's certainly a lot to unpack from that, isn't there?
let's try.
first. this short and frumpy old lady with both hands on her hips is standing in front of her desk, somehow able to bypass security and her assistant, jess, who is mysteriously absent from her desk.
second. aliens aren't real. right? (right?)
third. the concept of true love is laughable. this is the 21st century and subscribing to these silly fairytale notions of true love is a lot of bullshit. let alone the idea that there is someone even out there for lena in that capacity. nevermind that apparently the only possible candidate for such a title is someone who isn't even human.
fourth. what does this even all mean? and why is she allowing her conference call to madrid get completely derailed by this woman who looks like she's more suited for the kitchen of a small hole in the wall italian restaurant and not the middle of a fortune 500 corporate office.
(all this to say that when lena eventually looks back at her life, she'll think that this is probably not even top five of the weirdest things to happen to her. it might just barely squeak into the top ten, though.)
still, she's faced with a strange predicament at this time. like how to get this lady out of her office.
yet instead of shooing this lady out, her mouth opens to say, "what's next, are you gonna tell me that magic is also real?"
the old lady in front of her just shrugs. "true love is magic, dearie. keep up, mm?"
when she opens her mouth again, she's just about to dismiss this lady, but it doesn't even matter because as soon as she blinks, she's alone.
-
something saves her.
no wait, it's someone. someone saves her.
her helicopter is crashing, the pilot is dead and dying beside her, and they're plummeting.
until, of course, they're not.
because someone is carrying her burning helicopter down on a hellipad and yanking the door out to check on them. lena's heart is in her throat and her lungs are somewhere in her stomach and she doesn't know if she's still even alive. but this someone is definitely hovering before she's holding lena securely.
"hi," the woman says, tentative, blue eyes and blonde hair and armsarmsarms and a red cape and--
something inside of lena's heart changes-transforms-evolves.
and then she passes the fuck out.
-
when she wakes, it's to dim lighting in a hospital room, the beeping of her heartrate monitor. distantly, she hears very little outside which means she's in a much more private wing of the hospital.
she sits up a little when a nurse comes in holding a tray.
except it's not a nurse at all. but the same lady from before.
"you."
"hello, dearie."
so many questions jump at the forefront of her mind. understandable and reasonable questions like hey lady what the fuck are you doing here? how did you get in? what do you want from me? are you here to kill me? stuff like that.
except the flashes of earlier appear in her mind and she recalls blonde blue red. she gasps.
the old lady smiles. "very good, dearie. they did say you were smarter than the others."
"what do you want from me?"
"nothing."
"then what are you doing here?" she asks, her voice gaining strength, her hands balling into fists by her side.
"just consider me an invested party."
before she can voice anything, the old lady places her cup of jello and plastic spoon by her thigh.
"take care, dearie. tell her i said hello, mm?"
lena's brows furrow, questions crowding her mind as she attempts to make sense of everything but failing to do so. the last she hears is a snap of fingers and she falls into a dreamless sleep.
-
when lena next wakes, she's back in her office. a week after the failed assassination attempt on her life.
the buzz of her intercom signals jess's voice. "miss luthor, your 2pm appointment is here. would you like me to let her in."
"go ahead."
she stands by her desk and brushes at her skirt just as the door opens to reveal a beautiful and bespectacled woman with her hair pulled in a ponytail.
blonde blue red.
lena's mouth dries and her insides do a somersault. she remembers the helicopter, the hospital, the old lady. the words your true love is an alien pinballing in her head (in her heart in her heart in her heart).
"hi, miss luthor. thanks for meeting with me."
lena looks at the offered hand. strong hands that have held her before. on a burning helicopter.
"of course..." she says, waiting for the woman to fill in the blanks.
"kara. kara danvers."
"well, kara, call me lena."
it takes five eternal seconds for them to let go of each other's clasped hands.
-
lena finds out about kara bit by bit. through interviews, through professional coffee meetings, through informal coffee meetings, through casual walks around downtown and the city parks, through casual lunches and dinners and desserts.
congregating around food so she holds a fork or a burger or an ice cream cone in her hand while she fights the urge to hold kara's hand.
lena learns about who kara is. a reporter by day (who moonlights as a superhero, lena muses, but kara doesn't share that information). an avid pop music lover and movie buff. a regular buff with hard cuts of muscles. arms arms arms arms--
kara is lame. a dork. goofy. foolish. beautiful. quiet. pensive. perceptive. deep. kind. loving. oh, so loving. so very loving.
kara is a hugger. a holder. an engulfer. an overwhelmer. she is the ocean and lena is the lone driftwood that crashes against waves. lena wants to be washed ashore only for the ocean to capture her once more because the ocean can't be denied.
she doesn't want to deny kara.
"lena?"
she blinks back to her present, washing away the cloud of her thoughts. right. they're at dinner. her fork held midair just before her mouth. they are in kara's apartment.
"yes, darling?"
kara smiles at her, though there is concern in her eyes. "where'd you go just now?"
she wants to say she went to the ocean but it's true either way when she offers her best smile to kara who mirrors it easily, breezily.
"i was just thinking that your cooking has gotten better."
kara ducks her head, her smile turning shy. "thanks, lena."
lena doesn't want to deny kara.
-
briefly, distantly, lena thinks that perhaps there's an inevitability to this moment.
this moment being:
kara is standing in front of her with her button down shirt opened to the fifth button where lena sees the S emblem over kara's chest.
"i wanted to tell you. f-for so long, i just--" she stops herself and takes a deep breath. "i'm sorry, lena."
lena is quiet. her vision unable to focus on any one thing. she looks at the blonde of her hair out of its regular ponytail. at the blue of kara's eyes. at the red of the symbol atop her chest.
blonde blue red.
"you're an alien." she announces it for the first time, despite the truth have sat carefully under her tongue for months.
kara swallows, then nods. "lena-"
what did that old lady say? she can't remember right now because her brain is buzzing, her heart is thumping, and the overwhelming urge to melt into kara is all she can think about.
she propels forward, pushing up on the tips of her toes, and kisses kara.
kara's arms are around her, hands holding her, body engulfing her.
soft lips slide against hers, press upon her, permanently transforming the chemistry of her body with the way that kara is now part of her.
when they break apart, she only grins at the dazed expression on kara's face.
"you...you like me too?"
she is beaming because of course she likes kara too, likes her more than like. so she answers by kissing kara again.
-
for their first date, kara takes her to a small italian hole-in-the-wall restaurant.
"this is my favorite italian spot in the city. in the state, actually. maybe even the country!" kara exclaims, excitedly talking and gesticulating but making sure that their hands stay interlaced with one another.
when they get there, they're seated right away, a young woman seating them in the back booth.
"hi, kara. table for 2?"
kara nods and lena watches. "you come here often?" she asks.
"yeah. i hit this place up at least a couple times a month. good thing my metabolism allows me to eat as much pasta as i want. the chef in the back makes it fresh every day."
amidst drinking wine and twirling their forks in their pasta, kara is leaning closer to her, the two of them sitting adjacent to each other, their elbows grazing each other on the corner.
when they finish, kara pays, insists on it, and asks if they can stop by the kitchen to pay compliments to the chef. with hands still intertwined, kara pushes the swinging door forward, and calls for chef nina.
lena watches as kara releases her hold of lena and approaches the short and frumpy old lady who only wipes her hands on a stained white apron before opening her arms up to receive kara's hug.
over kara's shoulder, the old lady winks at lena.
and lena?
well, she just laughs and laughs, kisses kara on the lips, and hugs the old lady.
#anonymous#replies#supercorp#fic ask meme#samficlet#this is so long it doesn't make sense im sorry but it's the only idea i have in my mind for it and it won't leave me alone
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5 times Draco used Legilimency on Hermione +1 time she used it on him
Summary: Hermione has ADHD/AuDHD and Draco finds the way her mind works compared to others so fascinating he can't stay out.
Rating: T (non-graphic torture, a couple suggestive lines) ♡ WC: ~5k ♡ Ao3
A/N: my first published Dramione! (Looks at longfics languishing in drafts) Hope you enjoy! No beta; if you see any plot holes wither in the story or from Canon compliancy no you don't. Also I realise the summary sounds a little weird but I'm simply projecting as I write this Hermione and would like to find my own Draco who will find the way my brain is wired interesting/pos and not interesting/neg.
1. Wednesday, 10 January, 1996 (5th Year)
Draco shifted in his chair, glaring up from his parchment as the loud sound of a page turning interrupted his previously quiet study session. He was mildly surprised to find that the perpetrator was none other than the studious swot herself, Hermione Granger. He’d thought she had more respect for the sanctity of a library and its quietude.
A hint of colour crawled up her cheeks as she caught his stare, but she didn’t look away.
A thought popped into Draco’s head as he held her gaze. Over the winter hols, his mother had begun teaching him Legilimency. He was still getting the hang of it, but practice made perfect, did it not? His target was already making eye contact with him, and he was suddenly overwhelmingly curious about the witch’s thoughts. Was she as boring as she came across on the outside?
Ooo, maybe he could get a sneak peek into Potter’s plans, if she let him that far into her mind. Well, it was worth a try. Despite being a ridiculously well-read witch, surely she hadn’t learned about Legilimency or Occlumency?
Moving his wand under the table, so she couldn’t see, he whispered “Legilimens,” instantly transporting to his rival’s innermost being. Stubborn swot had practically invited him in, with those gleaming amber eyes holding his and absolutely no mental resistance to his entry at all.
He smirked to himself and looked around.
Draco turned slowly in place in Granger’s mind, jaw dropped as he took in the thoughts absolutely sprinting around, too fast for him to possibly pin down and read.
Merlin’s beard, had the witch actually become an Occlumens?!
This was not what he expected, compared to his mother’s neatly organised thoughts and carefully constructed walls and paths that held her memories. How was he supposed to delve into her mind and find what he wanted if there was no way to find what he was looking for?
Granger’s mind was a veritable rabbit warren of thoughts and memories, all haphazardly rolling around in her head like stray Bertie Bott’s Beans on the Hogwarts Express.
He had to give it to her, she had excellent defences that even a more skilled Legilimens than himself would have trouble wading through.
And the volume, Salazar’s staff…he was getting a headache just from the decibels of those thoughts running amuck. He exited her mind and broke eye contact, silently letting her win the unspoken staring contest, too overwhelmed to look at her any longer. How did the witch manage to get anything done with that organisational system, nevermind be top of their classes? Sure, it was a great defence against Legilimens, but they were few and far between, surely she didn’t need them at Hogwarts (his prying experiment aside). That mental energy would be better spent retaining and organising their class information.
Draco felt a sliver of grudging respect at Granger’s beyond-magical handling of Occlumency and schoolwork. He shivered in his seat. He wouldn’t be going in her brain again if he could help it.
2. Monday, 15 January, 1996 (5th Year)
Draco glared at the bronze curls ahead of him, willing Granger to quiet her thoughts. Since he’d first jumped into her brain last week, he couldn’t stop listening in, even when he wasn’t trying.
Sweet Salazar, the witch was loud. Practically screaming her thoughts at anyone listening in.
He really couldn’t make heads or tails of her behaviour. There was absolutely no reason for her to be broadcasting her thoughts like that – only a few students would even have heard of Legilimency. Surely she wasn’t playing bait, trying to lure him and/or his godfather into admitting something?
Somehow, Granger had become more interesting to him than Potter over the last week. It was only partly due to her annoyingly distracting thoughts that kept following him around. He found himself searching out her curls like a beacon for him to watch her, instead of to locate one of the two limpets usually by her side. He was, admittedly, curious about her organisational standards after his jaunt through her head.
The more he heard her thoughts, the more he found himself able to make sense of the rapid-fire trails they’d blaze, often diverting from one topic to another quicker than he would have done.
Looking back once he was out of her mental broadcasting range, he was able to follow her logic steps, but by Merlin, the convoluted ways she arrived at her destination! Draco wasn’t sure if he was impressed by her ability to arrive at the same conclusion by very different throughways or not.
Ahead of him, Granger shifted, perhaps finally sensing his displeasure and quieting her thoughts. They slowed down, gathering in one easy-to-follow stream of consciousness as she mentally narrated the notes she was writing.
Finally.
Thankful for the reprieve, Draco bent over his own parchment, able to block out one uninterrupted thought flow better than a scattered bombardment of singular thoughts. Still, the applications she pulled out of whatever mental filing system she had –however confusing it was–
were always apt and several times provided a new angle for Draco to mull over.
He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He relegated it to the back of his mind, where most of his thoughts about Granger went these days, never to be seen or felt again.
3. Sunday, 15 September, 1996 (6th Year)
The form of one Hermione Granger slumped over her books in the library made Draco pause on his way past her table to the shelf he wanted.
He’d missed her mental chatter over the summer as he learned Occlumency from his aunt and improved his Legilimency. However, with his new and improved mental shields firmly up since his return to Hogwarts, he hadn’t cared to attempt to breach hers again. He had better things to do with his brain than listen to her mental ramblings.
Honestly, he felt a bit bad for her after he’d eavesdropped on her when she was with the limpets one study session. She certainly possessed a surplus of patience dealing with those two, considering the filter her thoughts passed through before they made their way to the limpets’ ears.
Cautiously, he attempted to listen in on her thoughts as he made his way behind her, out of sight and out of mind (well, in one sense). Nothing.
Draco frowned. His Legilimency had only improved over the summer, and he couldn’t feel any Occlumency walls or shields. Her mind was simply…not producing thoughts. It was such a deviation from the norm that he began to grow worried that something had happened to Granger.
He sent a small stinging jinx at her leg. She jerked, slapping at her leg as thoughts began to form, to his relief (he simply tossed that feeling in the pile of galleons holding his true emotions that were stored in his very well guarded mental horde, never to be considered further).
Ouch, what was that? She glanced around, but he was safely hidden behind the shelves. Oh well. You’ve got Charms homework to crack on, Hermione. She pulled a piece of parchment forward and dipped her quill in the ink bottle, tapping the excess ink off on the side absentmindedly as she began figuring out the wording of her essay.
Two students walked by, whispering about the Quidditch tryouts the day before. Granger snickered as an image of Cormac McLaggen flying off in the wrong direction flitted through her mind like the Snitch taunting the Seekers.
Confundusing McLaggen was too easy. I’m glad Ron got the spot. She flipped through the Charms textbook. Focus, ‘Mione, Charms!
Draco left her mind, humming thoughtfully. So the little swot had sabotaged the tryouts for her incompetent boyfriend’s favour, huh. How positively Slytherin of her.
4. Monday, 30 March, 1998 (7th Year)
The shaking form of Hermione Granger on his drawing room floor kept Draco frozen in his spot, unable to look away. Her expression was screwed up in pain as she bit her lip, trying not to let a scream escape. Suddenly her eyes flew open, meeting his and pinning him in place.
His wandless Legilimency was weak at best, but with eye contact…
Legilimens.
Draco slipped into her brain easily, almost staggering as the pain of the Cruciatus curse spread to him. Granger, it will be okay. Hold on. You have to hold on, Granger. Please.
Mal-Malfoy?
Some of the pain in her eyes was replaced with confusion. He barely moved a muscle to nod reassuringly at her.
Yes, it’s me, Granger. Keep fighting. You have to, for all the others. You will survive this, I swear it. Just hold on a little longer, please, Granger.
Why are you doing this? A drop of blood trickled down her lip as she bit down harder.
I can’t stop my aunt, but I can take some of your torture. It’s nothing new. Just hold on, Granger, you’re not alone here. They’re coming for you. They’ll get you out of this.
But you hate me. You’re on his side.
Not anymore; I have to. For my mother and my sake. Just like you have to for Potter and Weasley and your sakes.
Bellatrix cast another Cruciatus, determined to make Potter’s Mudblood scream. Draco took more of the pain from Granger, determined to give her that one minuscule victory of staying quiet.
Granger squeezed her eyes shut again at the renewed assault, temporarily cutting off their connection. Draco took a large, un-Slytherin risk and lowered a little of his Occlumency defences, reaching out to Granger’s loud mental screams.
Hush, Granger, I’m still here. Can you feel me through the mental link?
I thought Legilimency needed eye contact? She gasped.
I’ve improved my Legilimency over the summer. I don’t need eye contact if your mental defences are down and you’re practically screaming in my head.
Granger’s reply was cut off as she noticed something above her, her eyes opening in another convulsion. Dobby was unscrewing the chandelier in the drawing room above the gathered crowd.
Come with us, she said, a flicker of surprise flashing after the words. Leave the Manor and him behind.
I can’t, Granger. My mother–
A vague sense of sympathetic understanding echoed through her mind underneath the spasms of pain.
Just say a nice word at my funeral, will you?
Dr–
He left her mind as Potter & Co appeared in front of the group, throwing them into chaos. At least his insane aunt was forced to stop cursing Granger and cast other spells instead.
He half-heartedly wrestled with Potter over a couple wands, hoping the Death Eaters would be too distracted to notice the way he so easily let Potter wrestle them free.
A flash of crystal as the chandelier dropped–
A flash of silver as Bellatrix threw her knife–
A flash and crack as the Order members apparated away–
And she was free. Draco closed his eyes. The Order would win the war, he was sure of it. What that meant for him, he no longer cared.
5. Monday, 5 October, 1998 (1st Day of 8th Year)
Draco, from his vantage point at the top of the stairs to the dorms, looked around the common room at the combined houses mingling peaceably. He had an excellent view.
The bronze curls and slow smile of one Hermione Granger, War Heroine, were warmly shaded by the light of the fireplace she sat beside, conversing with classmates.
She had regained some colour to her skin over the summer, he noticed, and a handful of freckles besides. Her hair was more curl and less frizz, her eyes were livelier and less shadowed, though they showed her forced maturity no matter how much they sparkled (Draco didn’t think that those would ever disappear from any who had them), her body was curvier and less malnourished than when he’d last seen her months ago at his trial.
He felt the edges of his lips curling up in a genuine smile as he sat and observed all the positive changes in her life and body.
He’d thought he was well-hidden in the shadows (certainly everyone was treating him as though he were truly wrapped in Potter’s invisibility cloak), but suddenly her eyes snapped to his and she held his gaze, leaving no doubt that she had caught him staring.
She quirked her eyebrow in silent question and invitation. He didn’t need Legilimency anymore to know how to read her, most of the time.
He’d spent all his summer house arrest fixating on any scrap of news the papers published about her, of which there were plenty. Thousands of photos of the most famous and Brightest Witch of Her Age had been clipped and carefully transferred to his scrapbook. It was a little ridiculous at this point, just how thick it was. It was hidden the Muggle way, under the floorboard under his bed, along with a thick stack of letters they had exchanged in between her busy schedule of testifying, repairing battlegrounds and casualties, and healing herself, and his busy schedule of daydreaming as he scoured the papers
He shook his head slightly, making her brow drop and turn into a hint of a frown. He frowned back at her, motioning with a jerk of his head to continue her conversation, and got to his feet.
Draco, can you hear me?
He froze on the step.
I saw that and I’m taking it as a yes. Are you alright?
Peachy, Granger. I’m going to bed. Goodnight.
…Goodnight, Draco. Sweet dreams.
He snorted. You take the sweetness for your own dreams. Ta.
He sat up with a gasp, uncomfortably sticky with sweat, his breathing fast and ragged. The nightmares had fallen off somewhat, but he supposed the first day back at Hogwarts had triggered their reemergence with full vigour.
He settled back on his bed, turning his pillow over and resting his hands beneath it, the weight of his head grounding him. Once he’d slowed his breathing, he lay staring up at the shadowed ceiling. He reached out to Granger unconsciously, needing reassurance that she wasn’t still trapped in his drawing room with his aunt, unable to even have his mental support as he was held back with magical restraints. The dreams always ended up in his drawing room.
Granger was asleep, seemingly undisturbed by night terrors.
He flinched when he saw where Granger’s dreams had ended up. Surprisingly, it wasn’t like his nightmares at all. Bellatrix wasn’t there, or his mother. Only he and Granger were there, kneeling a hairsbreadth apart, his hand on her cheek, her hand on his knee.
Feeling like he was intruding, Draco left her dream, returning fully to staring at the ceiling. Granger was safe and peaceful and that’s all that mattered. Whatever was happening in her dreams was none of his business.
+1. Tuesday, 2 May, 2000 (2nd Anniversary of the Second Wizarding War’s End)
“Draco.”
He placed his glass of firewhisky down, turning to face his visitor. “Hermione. How are you doing?”
“Never better,” he smirked, some grain of truth to his words. “You?”
Her pink lips turned up at that. “Good. I’m content with my present. It is a bit difficult with all the,” she waved at the fancy surroundings, “circumstances, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.” The room was filled with decorations and the setup for hundreds of people to celebrate the second year of Voldemort’s defeat.
“I’m pleased to hear that. You look good. The Ministry treating their Golden Girl well at her new job?”
She rolled her eyes, playfully nudging his arm. “Not you too. And yes, I’ve finally managed to get the preferential treatment left off. It only took, what, eleven months?”
“You should keep some preferential treatment, Granger,” he said solemnly. “Remind them that none of them would be here if it weren’t for you. Don’t let them take you for granted.”
She considered him, nibbling on her lower lip for a second as she bit back something. He was about to urge her to say it anyway when they were joined by Potter and Weaslette.
“Potter. Weaslette.”
“Malfoy. Hermione,” greeted the couple.
“Hello, Harry, Ginny.”
“I must admit I’m a little surprised to see you here,” said Harry, pushing his glasses up as he took a swig of his drink. Draco assumed he was talking to Hermione, given the circumstances.
Hermione made an agreeing noise. “I felt I should, even if I didn’t want to. I’ll find you later, Malfoy was just about to take me to get a drink, alright?”
The couple nodded and waved them off as Hermione’s hand slipped into his, pulling him away.
He blinked at their joined hands, then the back of her head as she steered them towards the bar.
“You didn’t want to stay and talk with your friends? I could’ve left.”
“No, you were there first. Besides, I wanted to talk to you in private, and we see each other much less frequently than I see Harry and Ginny.”
“Oh? Consider my interest piqued, Granger. What on earth could you want to talk to me about? You can always owl me and arrange a meeting some other time. I’m sure you still know my address, even if we haven’t written each other in awhile.”
She ordered a cocktail and leaned against the bar, turning to face him. “Do you know any place around here where we might have an uninterrupted chat?”
He hummed, tapping his chin in thought. “I may have an idea or two.”
Hermione’s drink retrieved and his topped up, he extended his arm to her and led them across the room, through dark hallways dimly lit by candle sconces, until he opened a door, gesturing her through.
“Welcome to the private sitting room of Lady Malfoy, where none are sure to disturb.”
“Won’t your mother–”
“My mother is busy overseeing the anniversary ball, doing her best to continue polishing our name to return it to its former shine. Besides, she is quite fond of you and will be most obliging and understanding. Unless, by ‘private chat’ you meant a quick shag, in which case I am more than happy to escort you to my private rooms,” he winked, settling in the corner of the settee mere handbreadths away from her.
She blushed and rolled her eyes. “That is not what I meant. This will be fine, thank you.”
“Alright. What is so secretive that you lured me to this dark, isolated room, Granger? Should I be in fear of my innocence being tainted?”
“It’s just us now, Malfoy, you can stop with the cavalier facade. I wanted to ask you if you would be willing to help me learn and practise Legilimency.”
Draco blinked. “You’re learning Legilimency?”
“I’ve been informed that my natural Occlumency is quite advanced already,” she smirked at him, “and I believe it would be useful to learn Legilimency. You know I can’t tell you everything about my work as an Unspeakable, but I work with Memories and Obliviators. I think Legilimency would be quite useful to know in my line of work, and…well, I can’t think of anyone I’d trust more with my mind to teach me.”
Draco swallowed. “I won’t insult you by asking if you’ve thought this through, but just for my peace of mind, Granger, you really want me in your mind again? Even after…”
She nodded firmly twice. “I asked you to help me improve my Occlumency and mental resistance, especially against you, because I thought we both needed space apart from each other. It wasn’t because I didn’t trust you or want you in my mind. You know I didn’t mind that, especially after the Incident. Now that I’m content with my Occlumency, I wish to learn Legilimency. I still trust you with my mind, Draco, we just needed some boundaries.”
He nodded, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees and run his fingers through his hair. “My mind healer told me our bond was becoming codependent and unhealthy. I’ve finally seen your points,” he sighed. “ I- you’re ready to do this again?”
“My mind healer cleared me a while ago, but I waited to be sure both of us were. But if you’re still not…maybe today wasn’t the best day to bring this up, after all. I’m sorry, I’ll leav-”
His fingers were wrapped gently around her wrist before he even knew what he was doing. “No, stay, Granger. I’m ready. I just wanted to clear some of my past reservations up first.”
Her answering smile was brilliant. “Good! When would you be free to start, then?”
“Now?”
Hermione smiled at the sight of Draco’s blonde head sticking above the back of her sofa. One arm was resting along the back, his long fingers tracing aimless designs in the blue floral pattern.
She paused, struck by an impulsive thought. Pulling out her wand, she whispered, “Legilimens,” under her breath, transporting to his mind. She fell in instantly, surprising her considering the challenge he had set her to get into his mind when he wasn’t expecting her. Surely it wasn’t this easy…but it didn’t feel like he was Occluding…
She wandered through his mind, as always astounded by his neat organising, so unlike her own mental filing system. Hers worked perfectly well for her, but she had long felt Other for her strange ways of remembering obscure topics and collecting scraps of random information. She had finally come to accept her strangeness and embrace it, even, but she still had a little pang of jealousy at seeing his easy organisation.
She strolled through the cave that was his mental fortress, surprised to not be greeted by his defending dragon. What was he planning?
She continued on her way, pausing to observe his vaults of memory-gems and emotion-coins, locked up behind steel and iron. The locks on some had become simpler, less guarded, from when they’d parted ways at the end of Eighth Year, and she wondered if she was seeing proof of his mind healer’s influence.
The vault she’d always been most curious about, at the back, was cracked open.. Taking it as an invitation, she peered in. It looked like a Gringotts vault, full of artworks and artefacts and piles of wealth heaped in the corners. Looking closer, each object held something related to her. Memories, feelings, dreams…
Feeling like an intruder, although she assumed he’d let her in for a reason, she stepped in cautiously. A memory met her full-force.
October, Sixth Year
Draco glanced across the table to hers, where she twirled a curl around her finger, deep in thought over a thick tome.
“Legilimens.”
He’d been getting the hang of wandless legilimency when he returned to Hogwarts, fresh from his aunt’s teaching. He’d practised on enough minds over the summer to know that hers was different, moreso than anyone else’s, and it intrigued him.
At first, yes, it had annoyed him, all her loud, fast thoughts, but now he found it comforting to listen in. He enjoyed trying to figure out which Express her thoughts were going to take before she did, to try and follow her leaps of intellect and even beat her to her conclusions.
And then there were her memories…the happy bustle of the Burrow (even if he was a little blinded by the sheer amount of gingers in one place), the summers out exploring with her Muggle parents, the interesting lives the Muggles lived and their strange inventions, the happy times she had with the limpets, she had so many happy memories.
They all seemed tinged with a warm sepia glow, preserved by some force Draco wasn’t sure he wanted to know. It was a far cry from his own, cold grey and black shrouded in smokey vignette. Her memories simultaneously made him wish to turn them to ash and keep them in a Fiendfyre-proof vault. He left her head with a scoff and got up, leaving the library.
Hermione blinked, overcome with his emotions and the memory. He’d confessed in their letters before Eighth Year that he’d often slipped into her head, but she hadn’t fully understood it until now. Another memory flitted forward as the previous one slid back into Draco’s neat storage.
March, Seventh Year
Draco was horrified to see her dragged into his drawing room by the Snatchers. His gaze flicked from her, to his aunt, to the Snatchers. He’d long since learned to temper his flight or fight response with freeze.
He’d stayed frozen until Bellatrix had cast the first Crucio and she’d met his eyes.
It was strange seeing her memories through Draco’s eyes, especially once he’d jumped into her head and was seeing her thoughts.
Granger, it will be okay.
She often recalled the first words he’d said to her when he entered her mind. And then she felt the phantom echoes of pain, and realised that Draco had absorbed some of the Cruciatus for her.
Jerking out of the memory with a gasp, she panted for breath, hand on her heart, reminding herself that it was only a memory.
“Draco!”
He strolled out of the shadows of the vault, hands in his pockets, eyebrow raised in silent question.
“Hermione.”
“You absorbed the Cruciatus for me?” Blast it, she could feel the sting of tears fast approaching. Now was not the time to cry. She blinked hard.
He shrugged.
“Why didn’t you tell anyone? I’m sure that would have gone even farther to prove your case for acquittal at your trial!”
“Does it matter, Granger?” He sounded annoyed. “That’s not usually how this goes.”
She paused, confused. “How does it usually go, then?”
He rolled his eyes. “I have a nightmare about the Incident, you remind me it’s not real, we kiss, et cetera,” he waved his hand summarily. “Don’t know why I expected Dream-Hermione to be any less argumentative than Real-Hermione,” he muttered under his breath.
Hermione tilted her head, contemplating. So Draco dreamed about her. She’d thought nightmares about the Incident had decreased. But apparently he also dreamed about current-her comforting him. Interesting. She hadn’t been sure if he’d still be as fond of her as he’d been in Eighth Year, after they’d had some healing and time apart from their traumatic bonding experiences. Well, it was good to know her slightly-more-than-a-crush was reciprocated.
“I’m going to ignore that, just this once. Draco, are you dreaming?”
He looked at her in puzzlement. “Obviously. I really don’t know why you had to change the dream from snogging me senseless to rehashing the Incident, though,” he frowned.
She raised her eyebrow. “Snogging you senseless, huh? That explains your absolute lack of Occlumency,” she snickered. “You were practically inviting me in. Guess your subconscious was tired of your lack of making a move and made it for you. Would you care to wake up so I can actually snog you senseless, then?”
Draco blinked, then his jaw dropped and a blush rose on his cheeks and eartips.
She turned to leave, then remembered why she’d come in the first place. “Oh, by the way, since I was able to get into your head successfully, I’ll be claiming my prize of one wish from the loser. I’m sure you’ll quite like it, don’t worry!” With a wink, she left, leaving him gaping after her.
Hermione settled on the sofa beside him, smirking softly at his adorably flustered expression as he woke up and saw her.
“Er, Hermione–”
“Sh, Draco. You like me and I like you, that’s all that matters, isn’t it?”
“Well, I suppose–”
“Good, then. Based on the sheer volume of that vault about me, I assume we have many many snogs to make up for.”
He exhaled in defeat, a smile taking over his face. “You’re right, as always.” He winked at her, leaning in quite willingly to meet her in the first of many kisses.
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@mangher continued from x
He had been bored for a few hours now, mainly because he was waiting for Jangmi to get off from her stupid little job. It was taking her far too long, nevermind she still had an hour or two on the clock to begin with. So, what he decided to do was to go to her instead. Unheard of. Him seeking up his girl, when it usually is the other way around. Someone like him did not run after women.
Hands deep in his pockets he walks up the stairs to the library. A few students give him more space than required. He did have his reputation after all. Some idiots made the mistake of approaching him, thinking he was his idiot brother, but those had been corrected early on.
(Sadly Yuuji also was getting attention he didn't deserve, thanks to Sukuna's influence.)
He pushes the heavy door open, walking in, a brow arching at the blatant display of disrespect towards him. Some lowlife was touching his girl.
I have a boyfriend.
Pride swells inside him, splitting his lips into a feral teeth baring grin.
I don't see him here.
With long strides he walks over to the two, grabbing the guy by his wrist, while his other arm loops around Jangmi. The student's hand is slammed down onto the desk, while Sukuna leans over slightly, his grip tight on Jangmi, voice low and words laced with venom, "I am Sukuna, and I am her boyfriend. So unless you want me to break your fingers," he uses the edge of the desk to his advantage, bending the wrist and hand of the guy painfully, listening to him cry out, watching him struggle to free himself but also try pry his deathgrip off him, "one by one, you will keep your filthy hands off of her." Tears streamed down the jerk's pathetic face. "Are we clear?!" Sukuna barked out, voice booming loud in the silent space, making a few of the studends present jump. The reply was a quick and nearly equally loud 'Yes!' before Sukuna let go of the hand, glaring holes into the guy scurrying off to lick his wounds, crying.
"And you," he turns to Jangmi, "the fuck are you flirting with others when you have me?!"
Jangmi's lips twist to one side, thoughtful. She wasn't exactly sure what she could do that would still be considered within professional bounds. After all, she was still on the job. She couldn't very well tell this asshole to beat it, at least not in the way she wanted, the only way he'd seem to get it through his thick, persistent head. She took a breath, about to try her best to diplomatically but definitively turn him down again, when suddenly she heard a very decisive pair of footsteps.
She had barely turned her head and registered it was her boyfriend before he had his arm around her, pulling her into his side. Jangmi watched, eyes narrowing as she watched Sukuna manhandle the student. She didn't speak up, though her jaw tensed as she grit her teeth. She jumped just slightly when Sukuna shouted, especially since it had been right next to her ear. Once Sukuna turned his attention to her, she shot him an annoyed glance. "Come with me," she ordered, not waiting for his reaction to grab his forearm and lead him into a room off to the side of the library's front desk.
Jangmi pulled him inside before she shut the door. A heavy sigh lifted her shoulders, the exhale coming out sharply. When she turned around, it was clear from the fire in her eyes that she was pissed. "Sukuna." She crossed her arms under her bust tightly. "Outside of school, I don't care how you handle assholes like him. But here, you have got to calm the fuck down." She pursed her lips. She didn't want to give him the wrong idea. Sometimes the possessive thing was kind of hot. But, "These are my colleagues. I'm probably going to be coworkers with some of them in a few years. Everything I do here has a butterfly effect on my future... and when you pull shit like that, it reflects very poorly on me." Jangmi tilted her head slightly to one side. "Understand?"
#we don't have to continue this if you don't wanna but#i really wanted to write her reaction#v.t#mangher#mangher: sukuna#au: my heart is all i carry
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Jangmi blinks as the student asking her a question leans forward, reaching up to tuck some loose strands of her hair behind her ear. Her cheeks flush pink. She is sometimes very bad at reading the room when it comes to people hitting on her, she hadn't even realized this guy is interested until this moment. She grabs his hand and lowers it to the front desk, clearing her throat. "The book you want to check out is on the second floor." "And what if I want to check you out?" he asks, and she takes a step back as he tries to hold her hand. "I... am sorry, I have a boyfriend," she replies honestly, to which the student just 'tch'es. "I don't see him here. You'd think if that were true he wouldn't let you go out dressed like a sexy librarian." Jangmi wasn't really sure what about her outfit was sexy but she took another step back when he went to grab her hand again. "So how about it? Will you go out with me?" Her jaw drops, absolutely stunned at the gall of this man.
@vartouhix
He had been bored for a few hours now, mainly because he was waiting for Jangmi to get off from her stupid little job. It was taking her far too long, nevermind she still had an hour or two on the clock to begin with. So, what he decided to do was to go to her instead. Unheard of. Him seeking up his girl, when it usually is the other way around. Someone like him did not run after women.
Hands deep in his pockets he walks up the stairs to the library. A few students give him more space than required. He did have his reputation after all. Some idiots made the mistake of approaching him, thinking he was his idiot brother, but those had been corrected early on.
(Sadly Yuuji also was getting attention he didn't deserve, thanks to Sukuna's influence.)
He pushes the heavy door open, walking in, a brow arching at the blatant display of disrespect towards him. Some lowlife was touching his girl.
I have a boyfriend.
Pride swells inside him, splitting his lips into a feral teeth baring grin.
I don't see him here.
With long strides he walks over to the two, grabbing the guy by his wrist, while his other arm loops around Jangmi. The student's hand is slammed down onto the desk, while Sukuna leans over slightly, his grip tight on Jangmi, voice low and words laced with venom, "I am Sukuna, and I am her boyfriend. So unless you want me to break your fingers," he uses the edge of the desk to his advantage, bending the wrist and hand of the guy painfully, listening to him cry out, watching him struggle to free himself but also try pry his deathgrip off him, "one by one, you will keep your filthy hands off of her." Tears streamed down the jerk's pathetic face. "Are we clear?!" Sukuna barked out, voice booming loud in the silent space, making a few of the studends present jump. The reply was a quick and nearly equally loud 'Yes!' before Sukuna let go of the hand, glaring holes into the guy scurrying off to lick his wounds, crying.
"And you," he turns to Jangmi, "the fuck are you flirting with others when you have me?!"
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(. ❛ ᴗ ❛.)
#Also I'm back on mobile but !#i have been seeing some short clips of fa.te extra ccc#and OH BOI bb is sava g e with robin HAHAHAHA#rOAsT the forest man#she basically does whatever she want with him and on his side#whenever he tries to pull on his own independence#she just----#in one part she opened a hole on the ground and robin fell who knows where#I WAS LIKE#OHMYGOD SHE ENDED HIM----#but then she also jumped on that hole so nevermind#im cryi n g#i love bb and robin's interactions#she is a whole menace#-grabby hands at all bb rpers-#if i knew more about f.e.ccc i would make a bb bc gremlin#idk i just find their interactions too funny#;mobile#;ooc#ooc#i need all bb rpers 😔🙏🏻#or imma make one#i'll see 😳
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Wei Wuxian’s Position in the Jiang Household
Fandom tends to mischaracterise Wei Wuxian’s position in the Jiang family greatly. A lot of people project more modern ideas about adoption onto his relationship with the Jiang siblings, and write as if he really is their sibling and only Yu Ziyuan’s abusive nature gets in the way of their bond.
This strikes me as a bit misguided. While adoption was practised in ancient China, it was mainly for the purpose of obtaining a male heir in the absence of one, or obtaining more daughters to marry off for alliances. Jiang Fengmian had no reason to adopt Wei Wuxian into the main family, and he didn’t. Wei Wuxian’s position in the household is far more nebulous than that, and honestly it’s hard to find an exact corollary, in Chinese history or in any culture, precisely because it was so messy and ill-defined.
A Companion to Upper Class Children
Wei Wuxian is the son of a servant of Yunmeng Jiang; it’s notable that Wei Changze is always referred to this way, rather than as a disciple. Wei Changze wound up leaving the sect in order to marry Cangse Sanren, and Jiang Fengmian considered them dear enough friends that when he heard they passed away, he spent years searching for their orphaned son. He wound up finding Wei Wuxian on the streets of Yiling and brought him home as his ward.
Wei WuXian was taken home by Jiang FengMian when he was nine.
Most memories from back then were already blurred. Yet, Jin Ling’s mother, Jiang YanLi, remembered all of them, and even told him quite a few.
She said that, after his father heard of the news that his parents both died in battle, he had always dedicated himself to finding the child that these past friends had left behind. After searching for a while, he finally found the child in Yiling.
(Chapter 24, Exiled Rebels translation)
It’s clear from the start that beyond this sense of obligation to his old friends, Jiang Fengmian also had a role set out for Wei Wuxian: he wanted him to be a companion to his children, and Jiang Cheng in particular.
He encourages a friendship between them, insisting on a sleepover between the two a week into Wei Wuxian’s stay.
On the second day, Jiang Cheng’s puppies were given to someone else.
This angered Jiang Cheng so much that he threw a big tantrum. No matter how much Jiang FengMian comforted him gently, telling him that they should ‘be good friends’, he refused to talk to Wei WuXian. Quite a few days later, Jiang Cheng’s attitude softened. Jiang FengMian wanted to strike while the iron was still hot, so he told Wei WuXian to sleep in the same room as him, hoping that they’d grow fonder of each other.
[...]
That night, Jiang Cheng locked Wei WuXian outside his room, refusing to let him in.
[...]
Wei WuXian waited outside for a long time. When the door opened, before the joy could spread onto his face, he was bombarded with a pile of things being thrown out. The door banged shut again.
Jiang Cheng told him from inside, “Go sleep somewhere else! This is my room! You’re even gonna steal my room?!”
[...]
Standing outside, as Wei WuXian heard that dogs would come bite him, fear immediately bubbled within him. Twisting his fingers, he hurried, “I’ll go, I’ll go. Don’t call the dogs!”
Dragging behind him the sheets and blanket that were thrown outside, he ran out the hall. Having only arrived at Lotus Pier for a short period of time, he didn’t dare jump around yet. Every day, he obediently holed up in the places that Jiang FengMian told him to stay at. He didn’t even know where his room was, much less have the courage to knock on other people’s doors, scared that it’d disturb someone’s dreams.
(Chapter 71, Exiled Rebels translation)
After Jiang Cheng is worried about getting in trouble, he goes to Jiang Yanli for help, and she searches for Wei Wuxian.
But this was the first pair of shoes that Jiang FengMian bought him. Wei WuXian was too embarrassed to make him go out of his way to buy another pair, and so he said that they weren’t too big. Jiang YanLi helped him into his shoe and pressed the hollow tip, “It is a bit big. I’ll fix it for you when we get back.”
Hearing this, Wei WuXian felt somewhat uneasy, as if he did something wrong again.
Living in other people’s homes, the worst that could happen was to make trouble for the hosts.
Jiang YanLi put him onto her back and began to walk back, wobbling in her steps as she spoke, “A-Ying, no matter what A-Cheng said to you, don’t bother about him. He doesn’t have a good temper, so he’s always home playing with himself. Those puppies were his favorites. Dad sent them away, and so he’s feeling upset. He’s actually really happy that somebody’s here to be with him.”
(Chapter 71, Exiled Rebels translation)
Later, Wei Wuxian offers to cover for him, saying simply that he ran outside by himself because he was scared. In this one case it feels like a genuine instance of children showing solidarity and covering for each other’s little misbehaviours. But it also follows a pattern of Wei Wuxian doing this and making excuses, time and time again, for Jiang Cheng. I wonder if on some level, he already knew that his role in the household was in part to be a companion-servant to Jiang Cheng.
Wei Wuxian normally never puts up with people treating him poorly or being arrogant; he constantly bites his tongue when Jiang Cheng does so around him. While they study at Cloud Recesses, Jiang Cheng frequently insults Wei Wuxian, who always just smiles and laughs it off.
Jiang Cheng humphed, “Him? He wakes at nine in the morning and sleeps at one during the night. When he wakes up, he doesn’t practice his sword or meditate; he goes boating, swims around, picks lotus seedpods, and hunts for pheasants.”
Wei WuXian replied, “No matter how much pheasants I hunt, I’m still number one.”
(Chapter 13, Exiled Rebels translation)
Jiang Cheng scolded with a darkened expression, “What are you proud of?! What is there to be proud of with this?! Do you think that it’s a glorious thing to be told by someone to get lost? You bring so much shame upon our sect!”
(Chapter 16, Exiled Rebels translation)
We never see Wei Wuxian excusing this sort of behaviour from any other character; he has no problem scolding Jin Ling for his arrogant attitude and telling him that he shouldn’t be imitating his uncle, after all! It’s only where Jiang Cheng is concerned that he does this, and honestly, even then he seems to be quite aware that Jiang Cheng’s behaviour is wrong; he simply accepts on some level that it’s his role in the household to put up with it.
He actually does, very gently, try to guide Jiang Cheng at times. In Lotus Seed Pods, for example, he tries to give Jiang Cheng advice on how to flirt with some of the maidens in Yunmeng and make friends:
Wei WuXian threw the seed pods toward the shore. It was a far distance, but they landed lightly in the women’s hands. He grabbed a few more and stuffed them into Jiang Cheng’s arms, shoving, “What are you doing, just standing there? Hurry up.”
After a few shoves, Jiang Cheng could only accept them, “Hurry up and do what?”
Wei WuXian, “You ate the watermelon too, so you also have to return the gift, don’t you? Here, here, don’t be embarrassed. Start throwing, start throwing.”
Jiang Cheng snorted again, “You must be joking. What’s there to be embarrassed about?” Whatever he said, however, even after all of the shidi began to throw seed pods, he still didn’t start to move. Wei WuXian urged, “Then throw some! If you throw some this time, next time you can ask them if the seed pods tasted good, and you’ll be able to make conversation again!”
[...]
Jiang Cheng was just about to throw one when he realized how shameless it was the moment he heard it. He peeled a seed pod and ate it by himself.
[...]
After a while of laughter, he turned around and looked at Jiang Cheng, who was sitting at the front of the boat eating seed pods with a long face. His smile gradually disappeared as he sighed, “Well, what an unteachable child.”
Jiang Cheng fumed, “So what if I want to eat alone?”
Wei WuXian, “Look at you, Jiang Cheng. Nevermind. You’re hopeless. Just wait to eat alone your whole life!”
(Chapter 125, Lotus Seed Pod, Exiled Rebels translation)
He even sighs rather disappointedly when Jiang Cheng refuses to take the hint; he knows that Jiang Cheng’s sullen behaviour is going to make him miserable down the line, but all of his gentle efforts to nudge him in a better direction have failed.
He also speaks with great awareness of Jiang Cheng’s flaws after the fight in the ancestral hall:
Wei WuXian reached out with one hand and massaged his chest, as if trying to break up the pent-up feeling inside his heart. A moment later, he blurted, “I knew Jiang Cheng wouldn’t have let us go so easily. That brat… How could this be?!”
[...]
Wei WuXian’s eyelids throbbed, “Every one of them. The brat’s been like this ever since he was young.He’ll say anything when he’s angry, no matter how bad it is. He gives up on all grace and discipline whatsoever. As long as it’d annoy whomever he’s against, he’d say it no matter what terrible insults he uses. After all these years, he hasn’t gotten better at all. Please don’t take it to heart.”
(Chapter 90, Exiled Rebels translation)
This is so interesting to me, because it really makes it clear that Wei Wuxian has always been aware of these flaws of Jiang Cheng’s. He hasn’t been viewing him through rose-coloured lenses or making excuses for him because he’s ‘family’. He puts up with Jiang Cheng’s behaviour because being his companion is one of his duties in the Jiang household. It may never have been directly stated, but there seems to be some unspoken understanding to this effect.
I honestly don’t know if there is any official role in history (in any culture, not just China) which perfectly correlates to this. In China a lady’s maid was expected to also be a close friend and companion to her mistress (in canon, see Bicao to Qin-furen and Yinzhu and Jinzhu to Yu-furen). In Europe an upper class woman would hire a lady’s companion, a woman from the lower fringes of the gentry who would serve as her companion in exchange for financial support.
I don’t know of any version of this role which involves two men. In general, this sort of role existed because upper class women were confined to the household by and large, and had very limited social spheres. Men, meanwhile, had much greater ability to meet with their peers and make friends. I almost feel like Wei Wuxian wound up being shoved into this role simply because even as a child Jiang Cheng was so unsociable that Jiang Fengmian didn’t know what else to do!
Wei Wuxian also at least once steps in and starts a fight in place of Jiang Cheng (essentially taking the fall for him). He does this when Jin Zixuan speaks disparagingly of Jiang Yanli at Cloud Recesses:
Jin ZiXuan asked in reply, “Why don’t you ask me how on Earth can I be satisfied with her?”
Jiang Cheng instantly stood up.
Pushing him to the side, Wei WuXian walked in front of him and sneered, “You sure think that you’re pretty satisfying, don’t you? Where did you get the guts to be all choosy here?”
[...]
Wei WuXian sighed, “… It’d be nice if shijie came. It’s fortunate that you didn’t hit him.”
Jiang Cheng, “I was going to. If you didn’t push me, the other side of Jin ZiXuan’s face would also be ruined.”
(Chapter 18, Exiled Rebels translation)
It’s also very notable that Wei Wuxian is never shown having friends outside of Jiang Cheng’s social circle, despite what an outgoing and friendly person he is. Any time he expresses interest in someone for himself, as with Lan Wangji, Jiang Cheng tries to nip it in the bud. Being unable to deter Wei Wuxian from Lan Wangji directly, Jiang Cheng instead tries to drive a wedge between them, constantly telling Wei Wuxian that Lan Wangji hates him.
“Yeah,” Nie HuaiSang spoke, “It looks like he really hates you, Wei-xiong. Lan WangJi usually… No, he never does something so impolite.”
Wei WuXian, “He hates me already? I wanted to apologize to him.”
Jiang Cheng sneered, “Apologizing now? Too late! Like his uncle, he surely thinks that you are evil and unruly to the core, and didn’t bother to pay you any attention.”
(Chapter 14, Exiled Rebels translation)
Jiang Cheng pulled him even closer, “It’s not as if you’re familiar with him! Don’t you see how much he hates you? You’re going to carry him? He probably doesn’t even want you a step closer to him.”
(Chapter 52, Exiled Rebels translation)
He even directly orders Wei Wuxian not to invite Lan Wangji to come visit him at Lotus Pier during the Lotus Seed Pod extra.
Wei WuXian, “Why are you so upset? My watermelon almost flew away! I was just being polite. Of course he wouldn’t come. Have you ever heard of him go anywhere by himself to have fun?”
Jiang Cheng had on a stern expression, “Let’s make this clear. I don’t want him to come, anyhow. Don’t invite him.”
(Chapter 125, Lotus Seed Pod, Exiled Rebels translation)
It’s not only Lan Wangji he tries to steer Wei Wuxian away from; he also interrupts his conversation with Wen Ning at the archery competition:
Wen QiongLin was probably one of Wen Clan’s disciples furthest in bloodline. His status was neither high nor low, yet his personality was timid. He didn’t dare do anything and even his speech stuttered. Through much practice, he had finally conjured up the courage to enter the competition, but he blew it because he was too nervous. If he didn’t receive the right guidance, perhaps the boy would hide his true self more and more from now on and never dare to perform in front of other people again. Wei WuXian encouraged him a couple of times and touched on a few areas of growth, correcting some miniscule problems that he had when he was shooting in the garden. Wen QiongLin listened so attentively that he didn’t even turn his eyes away, nodding uncontrollably.
Jiang Cheng, “Where did you find so much nonsense? The competition is starting soon. Get into the arena right now!”
Wei WuXian spoke to Wen QiongLin in a serious tone, “I’ll be off to the competition now. Later, you can see how I shoot when I’m in the arena…”
Jiang Cheng dragged him away, short of patience. He spat as he dragged, “See how you shoot? Do you think that you’re a model or something?!”
(Chapter 59, Exiled Rebels translation)
Even when it comes to Wei Wuxian’s friendly flirtation with Mianmian, Jiang Cheng has something to say and tries to deter him from her:
Jiang Cheng, “The one that MianMian gave you? I didn’t.”
Wei WuXian exclaimed his regret, “I’ll find her for another one later.”
Jiang Cheng frowned, “You’re at it again. You don’t really like her, do you? The girl does look fine, but it’s obvious that she doesn’t have much background. Maybe she isn’t even a disciple. She seems like the daughter of a servant.”
Wei WuXian, “What’s wrong with servants? I’m also the son of a servant, aren’t I?”
Jiang Cheng, “How can you compare to her? Whose servant is like you, having your master peel lotus seeds for you and boil you soup. I didn’t even get to have some!”
(Chapter 56, Exiled Rebels translation)
Jiang Cheng really does seem to view Wei Wuxian in a very proprietary light; he’s not allowed to have any friendships which don’t exist under Jiang Cheng’s direct control.
The idea that Wei Wuxian was meant to be Jiang Cheng’s servant-friend is reinforced at its darkest when Lotus Pier falls: both Yu Ziyuan and Jiang Fengmian’s last words to Wei Wuxian are an instruction to protect Jiang Cheng.
One hand holding him, Madam Yu grabbed Wei WuXian’s lapels with her other hand as though to strangle him to death. She spoke through clenched teeth, “… You damn little brat! I hate you! I hate you more than anything else! Look at what our sect has gone through for your sake!”
[...]
Madam Yu, “Don’t make such a fuss. It’ll loosen up when you’re somewhere safe. If anyone attacks you on the journey, it’ll protect you as well. Don’t come back. Go to Meishan straight away and find your sister!”
After she finished, she turned to Wei WuXian and pointed at him, “Wei Ying! Listen to me! Protect Jiang Cheng, protect him even if you die, do you understand?!”
[...]
Jiang FengMian stared into his eyes. Suddenly, he reached out. Only after pausing in the air did he finally touch Jiang Cheng’s head, slowly, “A-Cheng, be well.”
Wei WuXian, “Uncle Jiang, if anything happens to you, he won’t be well.”
Jiang FengMian turned his eyes to him, “A-Ying, A-Cheng… you must look after him.”
(Chapter 58, Exiled Rebels translation)
Even Jiang Fengmian, who supposedly favoured Wei Wuxian, only gives him instructions as pertains to his own son; he doesn’t spare a single last word for Wei Wuxian himself.
A Lower Status Family Member
It wasn’t uncommon throughout human history, across many cultures, for wealthy families to take in relatives who were orphaned or had otherwise fallen on hard times. They tended to have a lower status than the main family; they lived with them and were still a part of their social sphere, but were not quite equal, either. The English term for this is ‘poor relation’.
Obviously, Wei Wuxian isn’t actually a blood relative at all. But his position in the Jiang household definitely has some similarities. He lives in the main house, eats meals with the family, attends school with the son... He is even on some conditional levels accepted into the gentry of cultivation society. But he isn’t a full equal member of the family, either.
The fact that he’s Jiang Fengmian’s ward, not a blood relative or adopted into the main family, puts him at even more of a disadvantage. It seems that Jiang Fengmian paid for all of Wei Wuxian’s expenses:
Wei WuXian took a bite, “Back then, I didn’t even have to pay when I ate at the dock. I grabbed whatever I wanted, ate whatever I wanted; ran after I grabbed, walked as I ate. A month later, the vendor would get the reimbursement from Uncle Jiang.”
(Chapter 86, Exiled Rebels translation)
While this is a bit of conjecture, I gather that he was given access to family money as if he was part of the clan, and could just charge Yunmeng Jiang whenever he shopped in Lotus Pier. Which is great so long as Wei Wuxian is accepted in Yunmeng Jiang...but as we see during the Burial Mounds settlement period, the moment that acceptance fades, Wei Wuxian is left out in the cold without a single coin. And because he isn’t a member of the family, it’s a far easier matter for him to be thrown aside, as he was when Jiang Cheng grew angry with him over his decision to protect the Wens.
Of course, Chinese families traditionally did share their wealth, and still do nowadays. Ideally, in a loving family, this is a positive and means they all support each other; but when that isn’t the case, it leaves the victims of abuse vulnerable.
In Wei Wuxian’s case, he has some of the benefits of being a member of the Jiang clan, without ever actually being a member. He can be cast aside at any time, and he is never afforded the same respect by wider cultivation society which an inner clan member would have.
I don’t believe the novel ever directly addresses Wei Wuxian’s acceptance into the guest lectures at Cloud Recesses in this light, but the donghua actually has a very interesting little exchange about it which takes place between Nie Huaisang and a relative of his:
“Wei-xiong is just a disciple from Yunmeng. Why could he come to Gusu to study?”
“Wei-xiong is the son of Jiang-zongzhu’s old friend. He has been treated as their own son.”
“Oh, I see. That explains why they don’t look like master and servant, they seem like brothers.”
(MDZS Donghua, Episode 3, Guodong Subs)
Wei Wuxian was only allowed to attend these lectures, which seem to mainly be for sect heirs and inner clan members, on the grace of being Jiang Fengmian’s ward (and probably to accompany Jiang Cheng). While this exchange is not from the book, we never do see or hear about any of the other students being outer disciples rather than members of the main clan. Here’s what the novel had to say about it:
In that year, aside from the YunmengJiang Sect, there were also the young masters from other clans, sent to study here from parents who heard of the reputation. The young masters were all around fifteen or sixteen. Because the sects all knew the others, although they weren’t close, they had seen others’ faces before. It was widely known that, although Wei WuXian’s surname was not Jiang, he was the leading disciple of the sect leader of the YunmengJiang Sect—Jiang FengMian, and also the son of his friend who had passed away. In fact, the sect leader regarded him as his own child. This, along with how youths were not as concerned with status and ancestry as elders, they were soon friends. Only a few sentences passed, and everyone started to call others older brothers or younger brothers.
(Chapter 13, Exiled Rebels translation)
And Wei Wuxian isn’t treated as an equal at school, either; when he and his friends get up to mischief, he’s frequently the only one punished. Nie Huaisang even notes that Lan Qiren seems to be far harder on him than the other students:
Nie HuaiSang spoke, “Why does it seem like old man Lan is especially strict towards you? He always directs his scoldings at you.”
(Chapter 14, Exiled Rebels translation)
And we see Wei Wuxian being the sole one punished out of a group taken for granted by his friends multiple times:
As a result of cheating notes flying everywhere in the air, Lan WangJi suddenly attacked during the test, and caught a few initiators of the commotion. Lan QiRen exploded with anger, writing letters to the prominent clans to tell on them. He loathed Wei WuXian—in the beginning, although these disciples could hardly sit still, at least nobody started anything, and their buttocks were able to stick to their legs. However, now that Wei Ying came, the originally spineless brats were influenced by his encouragement, venturing out at night and drinking alcohol however they pleased. The unhealthy practices grew greater and greater. As he had expected, Wei Ying was one of the biggest threats to humanity!
Jiang FengMian replied, “Ying has always been like this. Please take care to discipline him, Mr. Lan.”
And so, Wei WuXian was punished again.
(Chapter 14, Exiled Rebels translation)
The boys were all cheating, but Wei Wuxian is the one punished most severely. This happens when he's caught sneaking alcohol, too (though to be fair to Lan Wangji, he probably was only punishing him, and himself alongside him, for being outside after curfew when he threw them off the wall).
Of course, Jiang Cheng didn’t dare to say that Wei WuXian was at fault. Thinking back, it was them who urged Wei WuXian to buy liquor. Each and every one of them should have been punished. He could only speak in a vague way, “It’s fine, it’s fine; it’s not that serious! He can walk. Wei WuXian, why are you still up there?!”
(Chapter 18, Exiled Rebels translation)
It’s not entirely unreasonable for the one who gets caught to take the punishment (what’s he going to do, rat his friends out?) but their ready acceptance of this does fit into a pattern.
Jiang Cheng’s top was tied at his waist. Hearing his mother’s chastise, he hastily put it over his head. Madam Yu scolded again, “And you boys! Can’t you see that A-Li’s here? Who taught you brats to dress like this in front of a girl!?”
Of course, it was needless to think who led the group. Thus, Madam Yu’s next sentence, as usual, was “Wei Ying! Do you want to die!?”
[...]
He could still feel some pain in his back, so he tossed the paddles to someone else, sat down, and felt the stinging piece of flesh, “How unfair. Nobody else was wearing anything, but why was I the only one who got scolded and beaten up?”
Jiang Cheng, “Because you hurt the eye the most with no clothes on, for sure.”
[...]
Everyone nodded. Wei WuXian, “Thanks for the praise, you guys. I’m even starting to feel some goose bumps.”
The shidi, “You’re welcome, Da-Shixiong. You protect us every single time. You deserve even more!”
(Chapter 125, Lotus Seed Pod, Exiled Rebels translation)
While we know that Yu Ziyuan is an abusive person in general, she abuses Wei Wuxian far more harshly than anyone else, even the outer disciples. It’s made clear to us in Lotus Seed Pods that she whips him regularly over minor infractions:
Madam Yu was even angrier, “How dare you run! Come back right now and kneel!” As she spoke, she let loose her whip with a flip of her wrist. Wei WuXian felt a searing pain slash across his back. He loudly exclaimed, “Ow!” And almost tripped on the ground.
(Chapter 125, Lotus Seed Pod, Exiled Rebels translation)
And that his back is heavily scarred from it:
He felt his back, covered in scars both old and new, and still couldn’t hold back the question he’d be thinking about, “How awfully unfair. Why is it that I’m the only one who gets beaten up, whenever something happens?”
(Chapter 125, Lotus Seed Pod, Exiled Rebels translation)
Rumours about this even made it outside of Lotus Pier; during their visit to the ancestral hall years later, Lan Wangji even states that he heard about some of it:
Lan WangJi had on an expression of understanding, “Kneeling as punishment?”
Wei WuXian mused, “How did you know? That’s right. Madam Yu punished me almost every day.”
Lan WangJi nodded, “I have heard of a few things.”
Wei WuXian, “It’s so famous that even people outside Yunmeng, even you Gusu people know—how could it be ‘a few things’? But, to be honest, in all these years, I’ve never seen a second woman whose temper was as bad as Madam Yu’s. She told me to go to the ancestral hall and kneel no matter how small the matter was. Hahaha…”
(Chapter 87, Exiled Rebels translation)
Wei Wuxian’s lower social standing is definitely a part of why Yu Ziyuan is able to abuse him so terribly and receive little to no censure for it. Everyone at Lotus Pier simply takes it for granted, with the exception of Jiang Yanli who at least does try to deflect her mother when she is angry with Wei Wuxian:
Yet, all of a sudden, someone’s quiet voice drifted by Madam Yu’s ear, “Mom, do you want to eat some watermelon…”
[...]
Jiang YanLi almost cried from her mother’s pinching, mumbling, “Mom, A-Xian and the others were hiding here to relieve the heat and I came here on my own. Don’t blame them… Do… Do you want some watermelon… I don’t know who gave them to us, but it’s really sweet. Eating watermelon in the summer is great for cooling down and quenching thirst. I’ll cut them for you…”
(Chapter 125, Lotus Seed Pod, Exiled Rebels translation)
She both tries to deflect her mother from her anger, and also outright states that Wei Wuxian and the other boys weren’t at fault. Jiang Yanli seems to be the only one at Lotus Pier who ever does this.
After the war, Wei Wuxian attends social events at Jiang Cheng’s side but is never quite treated as an equal, either. See how at the Flower Banquet, Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue greet Jiang Cheng but not him:
Suddenly, a voice spoke, “Sect Leader Nie, Sect Leader Lan.”
Hearing the familiar voice, Wei WuXian’s heart jumped. Nie MingJue turned around again. Jiang Cheng came over, dressed in purple, hand on his sword.
And the person standing beside Jiang Cheng was none other than Wei WuXian himself.
He saw himself walk with hands behind his back, wearing all black. A flute in the shade of ink stuck to his waist, hanging down with crimson colored tassels. Standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Jiang Cheng, he nodded in this direction to show respect. Attitude slightly arrogant, he took on a profound, disdainful appearance. As Wei WuXian saw the stance of his younger self, the root of his teeth even cringed in soreness. He felt that he really was pretentious, and itched to just beat the hell out of himself.
Lan WangJi also saw Wei WuXian, who stood beside Jiang Cheng. The tip of his brows twitched ever so slightly. Soon afterward, his light-colored eyes returned to where they were, still looking forward in that composed way. Jiang Cheng and Nie MingJue nodded at each other with grave faces. Neither had anything unnecessary to say. After a hasty greeting, the two walked their separate ways. Wei WuXian saw his black-clothed self glance around as he finally saw Lan WangJi. He looked as if he was about to speak before Jiang Cheng came over and stood to his side.
(Chapter 49, Exiled Rebels translation)
They then proceed to talk about him and his lack of a sword behind his back, never having said a word to Wei Wuxian himself:
Nie MingJue’s gaze turned over again, “Why does Wei Ying not carry his sword?”
Carrying one’s sword was like wearing formal attire. In such gatherings, it was a non-negligible indication of etiquette. Those from prominent sects saw it as especially important. Lan WangJi responded in a lukewarm tone, “He had probably forgotten.”
Ning MingJue raised a brow, “He can even forget something like this?”
(Chapter 49, Exiled Rebels translation)
At Phoenix Mountain it also seems that Wei Wuxian is conditionally a member of the gentry, but not treated like an equal. Sometimes there are these more cheerful interactions:
Holding the flower, Lan WangJi seemed to be quite cold. His tone seemed cold as well, “Was it you?”
Wei WuXian immediately denied it, “No, it wasn’t.”
The maidens beside him spoke at once, “Don’t believe him. It was him!”
Wei WuXian, “How could you treat a good person like this? I’m getting angry!”
Giggling, the maidens pulled their reins and went to the formations of their own sects. Lan WangJi lowered the hand that he held the flower with and shook his head. Jiang Cheng spoke, “ZeWu-Jun, HanGuang-Jun, apologies. Don’t pay attention to him.”
Lan XiChen smiled, “That is fine. I will thank Young Master Wei’s kindness behind the flower in place of WangJi.”
(Chapter 69, Exiled Rebels translation)
But then he will be publicly disparaged and it is readily accepted by others. Jin Zixun first starts an argument with him by criticising Wei Wuxian for fighting Jin Zixuan, then turns the topic to Wei Wuxian’s having taken a third of the prey in the hunt.
Jin ZiXun, “Wei, just what what do you mean by going against ZiXuan so many times?”
[...]
Jin ZiXun sneered, “How is it presumptuous? How is any part of you not presumptuous? Today, in such an important hunt involving all of the sects, you really showed off your abilities, didn’t you? One third of the prey have been taken by you. You sure feel pleased, don’t you?”
[...]
He mocked, “But it’s only natural that you don’t think you’re in the wrong. It’s not the first time that Young Master Wei has disregarded the rules. You didn’t wear your sword in both last time’s flower banquet and this time’s hunt. It’s such a grand event, and you care nothing for courtesy. In what regard to you hold us, the people who are present with you?”
[...]
No disciple had ever dared say such lofty words in front of so many people. A moment later, as Jin ZiXun finally regained his composure, he yelled, “Wei WuXian! You’re only the son of a servant—how dare you be so bold!!!”
(Chapters 69-70, Exiled Rebels translation)
Naturally, Jin Zixun is able to weasel out of giving an apology, even though Jiang Yanli demands one. And guess who also takes a third of the prey, but this time without any censure?
Jin GuangYao, “In reality, not only did Young Master Wei keep a third of the prey to himself, our eldest brother has eliminated over half of the fays and the monsters as well.”
Hearing this, Lan XiChen laughed, “That is how Brother is like, after all.”
(Chapter 70, Exiled Rebels translation)
Never a Brother
As I’ve already mentioned, Wei Wuxian was never adopted by Jiang Fengmian, or adopted into the clan in general in even a distant way. And this nebulous ‘we’re letting you live with the main family as a charity, but you aren’t really one of us’ attitude also reflects in his relationship with Jiang Yanli.
I’ve already discussed how Wei Wuxian was more like a companion servant to Jiang Cheng than a brother. It’s also worth noting quickly that neither of them ever refers to the other as a brother. Wei Wuxian refers to Jiang Cheng as his shidi a few times, and Jiang Cheng never even refers to him as his shixiong (because Jiang Cheng views him as his servant, not as even a martial brother, I’d argue).
Only one member of the Jiang family ever does use familial terms to refer to Wei Wuxian: his shijie, Jiang Yanli. At Phoenix Mountain, when Wei Wuxian is being insulted by Jin Zixun, Jiang Yanli stands up and defends him, and states clearly that she considers Wei Wuxian a little brother:
The people who gathered around Jin ZiXun had on the same dark faces as he did. Yet, taking into consideration Jiang YanLi’s background, they didn’t dare talk back to her directly.
Jiang YanLi added, “Besides, hunting is hunting, so why bring the matter of discipline to the table? A-Xian is a disciple of the YunmengJiang Sect. He grew up with my brother and I, and so he’s as close as a brother is to me. Calling him the ‘son of a servant’—I’m sorry, but I won’t accept this. And thus…”
She straightened her back and raised her voice, “I hope that Young Master Jin ZiXun would apologize to Wei WuXian of the YunmengJiang Sect!”
(Chapter 70, Exiled Rebels translation)
It doesn’t come through in the Exiled Rebels translation, but she actually refers to Wei Wuxian as her didi in this scene, not her shidi. She’s trying to draw a line and state that Wei Wuxian is a part of the family. However, no one takes her seriously, and shortly afterwards we see Jin-furen insisting that Jiang Yanli and Wei Wuxian shouldn’t be walking alone together because it would be inappropriate.
Jiang YanLi whispered, “That’s not necessary. I’d like to have a few words with A-Xian. He can walk me back.”
Madam Jin raised her brows, looking Wei WuXian up and down. Her gaze was somewhat cautious, as if she was feeling displeased, “A young man and a young woman—you two can’t stick together all the time if nobody else is present.”
Jiang YanLi, “A-Xian is my younger brother.”
[...]
Wei WuXian lowered his head, “Excuse my absence, Madam Jin.”
He and Jiang YanLi bowed at the same time. As they turned around to leave, Madam Jin grabbed Jiang YanLi’s hand and refused to let her leave.
(Chapter 70, Exiled Rebels translation)
Jin Zixuan also never treats Wei Wuxian the way one might a brother who is still angered with him over his past dismissive treatment of his sister. For example, see their argument at the Flower Banquet:
Before he could see how Lan WangJi reacted, a series of clamor suddenly came from the other end of the base. Wei WuXian heard his own raging shout, “Jin ZiXuan! Don’t you forget about what things you said and what things you did? What do you mean by this, now?!”
Wei WuXian remembered. So it was this time!
On the other side, Jin ZiXuan also fumed, “I was asking Sect Leader Jiang, not you! The one I was asking about was also Maiden Jiang. How is that related to you?!”
[...]
Jin ZiXuan, “Sect Leader Jiang—this is our sect’s flower banquet, and this is your sect’s person! Are you going to look after him or not?!”
[...]
...Jiang Cheng’s voice came, “Wei WuXian, you can just shut your mouth. Young Master Jin, I’m sorry. My sister is doing quite well. Thank you for your concern. We can talk about this next time.”
Wei WuXian laughed coldly, “Next time? There is no next time! Whether or not she’s doing well isn’t any of his business, either! Who does he think he is?”
He turned around and started to leave. Jiang Cheng shouted, “Get back here! Where are you going?”
Wei WuXian waved his hands, “Anywhere is fine! Just don’t let me see that face of his. I never wanted to come, anyway. You can deal with whatever’s here yourself.”
Having been abandoned by Wei WuXian, Jiang Cheng’s face immediately clouded over.
[...]
Jiang Cheng stowed away the clouds on his face, “Don’t mind him. Look at how impolite he is. He’s used to such rude behavior at home.”
He then began to converse with Jin ZiXuan.
(Chapter 49, Exiled Rebels translation)
Jiang Cheng also quietly dismisses the notion of Wei Wuxian as a brother in relation to Jiang Yanli; when they visit to show him her wedding dress and she asks for a courtesy name, Jiang Cheng specifically says:
Jiang Cheng, “The courtesy name of my unborn nephew.”
(Chapter 75, Exiled Rebels translation)
Not our nephew, mine.
Even the disastrous invitation to Jin Ling’s one month celebration is framed as a favour to an old shidi, not a family member:
Jin ZiXun, “Since you’ve heard it from him already, you should know that I can’t wait. Don’t tell me that you’ll disregard your brother’s life for the sake of Sister-in-Law’s shidi?!”
Jin ZiXuan, “You clearly know that I’m not that kind of person! He might not necessarily be the one who cursed you with Hundred Holes either. Why are you so rash? I was the one who invited Wei WuXian to A-Ling’s full-month celebration anyways. If this is the way you do things, where does that leave me? Where does it leave my wife?”
Jin ZiXun raised his voice, “It’s best if he doesn’t attend! What does Wei WuXian think he is—does he deserve to attend our sect’s banquet? Whoever touches him gets nothing but a splash of black! ZiXuan, when you invited him, weren’t you worried that you, Sister-in-Law and A-Ling would receive an irremovable stain for the rest of your lives?!”
(Chapter 76, Exiled Rebels translation)
It’s clear that not only does wider society not consider Wei Wuxian and the Jiangs siblings...they themselves don’t, either. Wei Wuxian, after all, readily accepts that his relationship with them is over after he leaves the sect:
Before they parted, Jiang Cheng spoke, “We won’t see you off. It wouldn’t be good if someone saw us.”
Wei WuXian nodded. He understood that it wasn’t easy for the Jiang siblings to have come out here. If someone else saw them, all those things they did for the public to believe would be wasted. He spoke, “We’ll go first.”
[...]
He turned around, knowing that it’d be a long time before he’d get to see the people he was familiar with again.
But… right now, wasn’t he on his way to seeing people he was familiar with as well?
(Chapter 75, Exiled Rebels translation)
Cast Aside
The way cultivation society treats Wei Wuxian when he is not with the Jiangs is also very revealing. Any level of respect he is given is contingent on his position in the Jiang household, and when they aren’t around that minimal respect fades away. Look at how disrespectfully he is treated when he approaches Jin Zixun to ask for Wen Ning’s location.
Wei WuXian didn’t make small talk either, getting straight to the point, “No thanks. I don’t.” He nodded slightly at Jin ZiXun, “Young Master Jin, could I please have a word with you?”
Jin ZiXun, “If you have anything to say, come after our banquet is over.”
In reality, he didn’t want to talk to Wei WuXian at all. Wei WuXian could see this as well, “How long do I have to wait?”
Jin ZiXun, “Probably around six to eight hours. Or maybe ten to twelve. Or until tomorrow.”
Wei WuXian, “I’m afraid I can’t wait for that long.”
Jin ZiXun’s voice was arrogant, “You’ll have to wait even if you can’t.”
Jin GuangYao, “Young Master Wei, what do you need ZiXun for? Is it a pressing matter?”
Wei WuXian, “Pressing indeed. It allows for no delay.”
[...]
Jin ZiXun, “Wei WuXian, what do you mean? You came for him? You aren’t standing up for a Wen-dog, are you?”
Wei WuXian wore a broad grin, “Since when is it your business whether I’d like to stand up for him or cut his head off? Just give him to me!”
At the last sentence, the grin on his face vanished. His tone turned cold as well. It was clear that he had lost his patience. Many of the people within Glamor Hal shivered in fear. Jin ZiXun felt his scalp tingle as well. Yet, his anger soon soared. He shouted, “Wei WuXian, you are too bold! Did the LanlingJin Sect invite you today? And you dare run wild here. Do you really think that you’re invincible, that nobody has the courage to confront you? Do you want to overturn the Heavens?”
Wei WuXian smiled, “You’re comparing yourself to the Heavens? Excuse my language, but your face is a little too thick, isn’t it?”
[...]
Just as he was about to rebut, sitting on the foremost seat, Jin GuangShan spoke up.
His voice seemed kind, “It’s not anything too important anyways. You youngsters, why lose your tempers over such a thing? However, Young Master Wei, let me be fair here. Barging in when the LanlingJin Sect is holding a private banquet is indeed inappropriate.”
To say that Jin GuangShan didn’t mind what happened at Phoenix Mountain would be impossible. This was also why he only smiled when Jin ZiXun bickered with Wei WuXian but didn’t stop them, and only spoke up when Jin ZiXun was at the disadvantage.
Wei WuXian nodded, “Sect Leader Jin, it was never my intention to disturb your private banquet. My apologies. However, the whereabouts of the people whom Young Master Jin took are still unclear. Just a moment of delay, and it might be too late. One of the group had once saved me before. I will definitely not sit back and watch. Please do not feel pressured. I will make amends for this at a later date.”
[...]
After a few laughs, he continued, “Sect Leader Jin, let me ask you something else. Do you think that, because the QishanWen Sect is gone, the LanlingJin Sect has all right to replace it?”
All was silent within Glamor Hall.
Wei WuXian added, “Everything has to be given to you? Everyone has to listen to you? Looking at how the LanlingJin Sect does things, I almost thought that it was the QishanWen Sect’s empire all over again.”
[...]
A guest cultivator on his right shouted, “Wei WuXian! Watch your words!”
Wei WuXian, “Did I say something wrong? Forcing living people to be bait and beating them up whenever they refused to obey—is this any different from what the QishanWen Sect does?”
Another guest cultivator stood up, “Of course it’s different. The Wen-dogs did all kinds of evil. To arrive at such an end is only karma for them. We only avenged a tooth for a tooth, letting them taste the fruit that they themselves had sown. What’s wrong with this?”
Wei WuXian, “Take revenge on the ones who bite you. Wen Ning’s branch doesn’t have much blood on their hands. Don’t tell me that you find them guilty by association?”
Another person spoke, “Young Master Wei, is it that they don’t have much blood on their hands just because you say so? These are only your one-sided words. Where’s the evidence?”
[...]
Jin GuangShan stood up as well, his face a mixture of shock, anger, fear, and hatred, “Wei WuXian! Just because… Sect Leader Jiang isn’t here doesn’t mean you can be so reckless!”
Wei WuXian’s voice was harsh, “Do you think that I wouldn’t be reckless if he were here? If I wanted to kill someone, who could stop me, and who would dare stop me?!”
[...]
“Young Master Wei really is too impulsive. How could he speak in such a way in front of so many sects?”
Lan WangJi spoke coldly, “Was he wrong?”
Jin GuangYao paused almost unnoticeably. He immediately laughed, “Haha. Yes, he’s right. But it’s because he’s right that he can’t say it in front of them, correct?”
Lan XiChen seemed as if he was deep in thought, “Young Master Wei’s heart really has changed.”
(Chapter 72, Exiled Rebels translation)
The only person at this banquet who speaks to Wei Wuxian respectfully is Jin Guangyao, a consummate manipulator who is also of a lower social status. Everyone else speaks to him dismissively, refusing to respect his request for Wen Ning’s location even though he states that Wen Ning helped him during the war. Wei Wuxian is extremely polite at the beginning of this conversation, and only slowly begins to lose his temper when Jin Zixun speaks rudely and Jin Guangshan decides to bring up the matter of the Yinhufu (Wei Wuxian is right in suspecting him of wanting to replace Qishan Wen, of course, and that it’s very bold of them to think they have the right to a spiritual tool of his just because...they’re rich?).
When the sects meet at Koi Tower to discuss the breakout at Qiongqi Path, no one considers Wei Wuxian as an independent agent who they might actually want to meet and negotiate with themselves. He is a wayward servant of Yunmeng Jiang who the sect leader has failed to keep in hand.
Jiang Cheng only spoke after a few moments, “What he did was indeed a bit too much. Sect Leader Jin, I apologize to you in place of him. If there’s any way at all to help the situation, please let me know. I’ll definitely compensate for things however I can.”
[...]
Jin GuangShan, “Sect Leader Jiang, Wei Ying is your right-hand man. You value him a lot. All of us know this. However, on the other hand, it’s hard to tell whether or not he actually respects you. In any case, I’ve been a sect leader for so many years and I’ve never seen the servant of any sect dare be so arrogant, so proud. Have you heard what they say outside? Things like how during the Sunshot Campaign the victories of the YunmengJiang Sect were all because of Wei WuXian alone—what nonsense!”
[...]
Lan WangJi sat with his back straight, speaking in a tone of absolute tranquility, “I did not hear Wei Ying say this. I did not hear him express the slightest disrespect towards Sect Leader Jiang either.”
[...]
The good thing was that, not long after he felt awkward, Jin GuangYao came to save the day, exclaiming, “Really? That day, Young Master Wei busted into Koi Tower with such force. He said too many things, one more shocking than the next. Perhaps he said a few things that were along those lines. I can’t remember them either.”
[...]
Jin GuangShan followed the transition, “That’s right. Anyhow, his attitude has always been arrogant.”
One of the sect leaders added, “To be honest, I’ve wanted to say this since a long time ago. Although Wei WuXian did a few things during the Sunshot Campaign, there are many guest cultivators who did more than him. I’ve never seen anyone as full of themselves as him. Excuse my bluntness, but he’s the son of a servant. How could the son of a servant be so arrogant?”
[...]
“In the beginning, Sect Leader Jin asked Wei Ying for the Tiger Seal with nothing but good intentions, worried that he wouldn’t be able to control it and lead to a disaster. He, however, used his own yardstick to measure another’s intents. Did he think that everyone is after his treasure? What a joke. In terms of treasures, is there any sect that doesn’t hold a few treasures?”
“I knew that something would eventually happen if he continued on the ghostly path—look! His killing intents are being revealed already. Killing indiscriminately those from our side just because of a few Wen-dogs…”
[...]
Jin GuangShan continued, “Sect Leader Jiang, you’re not like your father. It’s just been a couple of years since the reestablishment of the YunmengJiang Sect, precisely when you should be displaying your power. And he doesn’t even know to avoid suspicions. What would the Jiang Sect’s new disciples think if they saw him? Don’t tell me you’d let them see him as their role model and look down on you?”
He spoke one sentence after another, striking the iron while it was still hot. Jiang Cheng spoke slowly, “Sect Leader Jin, that’s enough. I’ll go to Burial Mound and deal with this.”
Jin GuangShan felt satisfied, speaking in a sincere tone, “That’s the spirit. Sect Leader Jiang, there are some things, some people that you shouldn’t put up with.”
(Chapter 73, Exiled Rebels translation)
This is very reminiscent of the way that Jin Zixuan would often turn around and say, ‘Why aren’t you controlling your servant?’ to Jiang Cheng whenever he had a dispute with Wei Wuxian over his treatment of Jiang Yanli.
When Jiang Cheng goes to the Burial Mounds and Wei Wuxian defects from Yunmeng Jiang in order to help the sect save face, Jiang Cheng treats this as a personal betrayal. He not only challenges Wei Wuxian to a duel but then announces that Wei Wuxian has betrayed Yunmeng Jiang and declared himself the enemy of cultivation society:
After the fight, Jiang Cheng told the outside that Wei WuXian defected from the sect and was an enemy to the entire cultivation world. The YunmengJiang Sect had already cast him out. From then on, no ties remained between them—a clear line was drawn. Henceforth, no matter what he did, they’d have nothing to do with the YunmengJiang Sect!
(Chapter 73, Exiled Rebels translation)
“Wei Wuxian has betrayed the sect, and publicly regards all cultivation sects as enemy! Yunmeng Jiang Sect hereby expels him, breaking all ties with him and drawing a clear line between us. Henceforth, no matter what this person does, it will have nothing to do with Yunmeng Jiang Sect!”
(Modao Zushi Radio Drama, Season 3 Episode 5, Suibian Subs)
Naturally, no one ever questions this or wants to hear Wei Wuxian’s side of the story. Jiang Cheng is a sect leader and Wei Wuxian his servant, and that is all cultivation society needs to know.
In Conclusion
Wei Wuxian was never really part of the Jiang family. The wider social view was that he was a servant who was lucky to be taken in by the family and allowed to live in the main house alongside the sect leader’s children. He’s accepted into cultivation society conditionally, but only as someone who remains a rank below everyone else.
This attitude isn’t just the wider social view which the family themselves disregard; they all play into it. Yu Ziyuan and Jiang Cheng both actively enforce it, Jiang Fengmian passively enforces it, and Jiang Yanli tries but fails to break through the social barriers between them.
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The One
Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader
Warmings: 18+, Minors DNI. Curate your own experience. Cursing, drinking, running, a raging argument in an established relationship, name calling, taunting, drunken raging, Twitter. SMUT, explicit, rough sex, fingering, tit slapping, orgasm denial, spitting, oral sex (mostly female receiving). Also, I’m sleepy. 😴
A/N: Not proofread. Also, I know very little about Chris and Jenny, and have no real opinion about their relationship. I made up the scenario about what happened there for the purposes of the story. THANKS FOR 400 FOLLOWERS TONIGHT! 🥳🎉🎊🍾👏🏽🎈
This fic is based on the following ask:
Anonymous asked:
Imagine idea :
Chris is drunk after a fight with the reader. He was On Twitter and saw some pics with Jenny and when the reader comes in he screams at her and says that Jenny was the one and not the reader. The reader get sad because she was always kind of insecure about the age gap with Chris. The day after he didn’t know what he says and she don’t say anything because she got the feeling that he was right. But one thing both didn’t noticed that Chris was drunk calling Scott and he knows everything Chris says and drive to Chris to give him a good clamp ahahhaha Chris was drunk and Just mentioned her name because he saw a post with Jenny.
------------------
It had been the perfect day.
You slept in, then had a late brunch at home.
You saw a message from Chris’ former co-star, Heidi, light up his phone that he’d plugged in on the kitchen counter when you two were tidying up.
You wondered why he was texting the bitch even after you told him that she wanted him. And after he agreed to cut off contact out of respect for you.
Heated, you didn’t even look around before you picked it up, put in his code and read a string of friendly, if not borderline flirty, texts.
Chris walked in the kitchen, caught you, and yelled at you for being in his phone.
“What the hell is going on?”
“Exactly! What is going on, Chris. I thought we talked about this?”
Chris rolled his eyes. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Oh, it’s a big fucking deal.”
You threw his phone on the marble countertop, which caused Chris to pick it up to see if it was cracked. Your temper was too much.
“We’re just friends! She knows we’re together, y/n!”
You rolled your eyes.
“And I know women, Chris. That doesn’t fucking matter to her. Sometimes you’re so oblivious. Or act like you are.” You huffed and rolled your eyes.
“I know you want to leave me for someone more glamorous and beautiful. Someone who will put up with your shit, everyone the media says you’re fucking. Go ahead and just do it!”
Chris’s temper was really rising now. You could tell as the red creeped up his chest to his neck.
“Stop fucking saying that!” Chris was screaming now. “Is that what you want? To end it? Because you don’t have to make me do it. If you want to leave, just leave.”
You said shit like that a lot. And it scared and angered him. He wanted to know if you were trying to make him break up with you so you would be free.
“Why are you being such a fucking…” Chris stopped himself. He knew better than to call you out of your name.
Your head almost spun around. You smiled evilly.
“Go ahead, say what you wanna say, Chris. Or are you scared?”
Chris exploded. “A fucking BITCH.” He was shaking because you went there.
“How many times do I have to tell you, I’m not fucking anyone else!”
Chris lost it and punched the wall, making a hole in the drywall and definitely injuring his hand.
You just stood there with your mouth open and in silence. You went toward him to look at his hand, and he just put both of them up, backing away from you and going to the liquor cabinet.
He retreated to the deck with a bottle of Jameson’s. He wanted to dull the pain, in his hand, and in his heart. He hated when you hurt each other.
You understood that you both crossed the line, so you let him be. You went upstairs to change into your running clothes to get out and clear your head.
Chris settled on a deck lounger, started drinking from the bottle and got online, which is never a good thing, but he needed something to distract him. He started reading tweets about himself, and following a thread of Chris + Jenny stans.
The more he drank, the more he started reminiscing.
There were good times. He was happy. Mostly. He thought she was the one. Sometimes. But she broke his heart. He was just a rebound.
Her handsome arm candy.
Then he thought of you. His heart melted; you really loved him. He was sure of it. But loving him was hard. He realized that you felt the same way about him that he felt about Jenny. Always waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Insecure.
And you had good reason to be. Everything you’d said about women coming after him was true. But what you didn’t realize is that since he’d met you other women didn’t matter to him.
You were the one, not Jenny.
Chris began to get melancholy. He’d fucked up. You were nothing but good to him and you just asked him to respect you and listen to your feelings. He’d ignored that.
Shit, why did he yell at you like that?
He went to erase Heidi’s contact and block her number. He was confident that you were never going to throw him away like Jenny did. She was the one who’d hurt him. Not you. Never you. He recognized that you wouldn’t ever hurt him on purpose.
His mind was racing with how to apologize when you came back. He was an idiot. The pain in his heart was replaced with regret and his hand had slowed to a dull throb.
But then 30 minutes turned to 3 hours, and by the time you got back, the bottle was empty and Chris’s eyes were red with rage and worry.
Maybe you were just like Jenny after all.
--------
You ran, and then went to get some coffee. You ran into Shelby at the cafe and distracted yourself with mindless chatter, then walked back. You were ready to apologize by the time you opened the door.
When he heard the door, Chris picked up his phone and met you in the living room. He was obviously shitfaced.
“WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN!?”
Chris’s voice boomed throughout the house and you jumped. Then you just stood there, shocked at his outburst.
“The hell are you talking to me like that?”
He was unsteady on his feet. He leaned toward you, and you could tell that someone was spinning the room for him.
“I don’t want it to be you!”
He had to let you know that he knew that you wouldn’t be the one to hurt him. Chris pointed his phone at you.
“You’re not the one. Jenny’s the only one. Not you! Not ever you!”
You couldn’t believe your ears. But then again you could. It was what you were afraid of. You were head over heels. And Chris could find someone on his level. Like Jenny.
“Well, Fuck You very much, Chris.”
You brushed your tears away and ran past him up the stairs to the bedroom, locking the door and crying your eyes out. You got out your suitcase.
----
Chris started up after you, calling your name, and then suddenly needed to duck in the downstairs bathroom to throw up.
He tried to make it up the stairs and had to sit down on the floor near the bottom. Then, he needed to lay down just for a minute.
The next thing Chris knew, it was morning, and he woke up to a pounding on the door and in his head. He rolled over on the floor, and something stabbed him in the side.
Groaning, he reached down and saw your keys to his house, his cars, and his life, all on the Tiffany heart keychain he’d given them to you. He was staring at them, confused, when Scott opened the door with his key.
“There he is. My brother. The fuck up.”
Chris groaned again, sat up on the bottom stair and held his head.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Nevermind me. It’s not often I get to say that, only when you publish your dick pic to the internet or you RUN OFF THE BEST THING THAT’S EVER HAPPENED TO YOU!”
Chris winced when Scott yelled, his head a pounding mass of meat wrapped in fuzzy cotton.
He didn’t understand why he was being tortured and he didn’t understand why his hand hurt. He looked at it, all bruised up, and the keys inside it.
“Just tell me, Scott. Why are you here?”
Scott leaned up against the door.
“Did you know you drunk dialed me last night?”
Chris looked up at Scott, and his face was a sight as his brother told him what he’d said to you.
“Fuuuuuck me!” He put his head in his hands again.
“I don’t know if she ever will again,” Scott joked, but Chris didn’t laugh.
“I called her after you apparently passed out and wouldn't pick up your phone. She was ready to catch an early morning flight, but I convinced her to sleep in today and leave tomorrow.”
Chris moved his hands down from his eyes and stared out the patio doors, trying to think.
“I put her up in the Four Seasons, on your dime of course. Room 6145. Penthouse. Could be pretty romantic. If she were in that kind of mood.”
Chris looked up at Scott, smiled weakly, jumped up and hugged him, then made for the door. Scott jumped in front of him.
“Trust me, you’ll want to get some water and coffee in you, and shower and brush your teeth. You look and smell like shit.”
“Right.” Chris nodded, flexing his hand. He could still move it. He was glad it wasn’t broken. “Thanks, bro.”
“No problem.” Scott walked into the bathroom as Chris went to the kitchen, groaning when he saw the hole in the wall. He’d have to ask Scott to get it fixed before you saw it again.
If he could convince you to come back.
----
It was 11 am, and Scott had verified that you were still in the room. Chris just stood there, nervous and terrified that you were just going to be done with him.
Room service came and headed toward your door. Chris waved them down and when they saw his face, they stopped in their tracks, shocked.
“Hey, can you do me a favor?”
----
You climbed out of the wonderful deep jetted tub, having soaked until the water got cold and your fingers were wrinkled. You pulled on the plush Four Seasons terry cloth robe that was provided with the suite.
You felt calmer than last night, and after some sleep and relaxation, you realized that you’d been a fool to think that Chris would want you forever like you thought.
It was for the best that you leave and start over, to focus on your consulting business and yourself for a while.
You opened the door with a smile on your face for the attendant, and you let them into the room, your back turned to the door while they brought the cart in. You turned back around and there was Chris.
You grew heated, and your heart began to race while the attendant scurried out. Chris’s face was a welcome sight, but you were still angry.
There you were, looking so beautiful, curls tied up in your favorite silk scarf, cocoa skin radiant in a white fluffy robe. You should have been comfortable, but your eyes were wide and scared.
He’d done this to you.
“Fuck, y/n… I…”
You interrupted him.
“You’ve got some mutha fuckin nerve. How dare you just run up in here, using that fucking face,” you flung your hand up, “using who you are to get into my room. How did you even know where…?”
Your mouth dropped open at the realization of what Scott had done. You turned on your heel to get your things. You didn’t care that you were naked under your robe. You didn’t care that you still loved Chris. You were out. This second.
Chris moved to block you from entering the bedroom of the suite. You tried to push past him, all 5’ 4” of you versus 6 feet of him.
“Move, Chris!”
You glared up at him, your body responding to him in ways you weren’t prepared to admit. You were betrayed by your pussy.
“I just want you to listen to me. Then you can leave, stay, do whatever you want. Just hear me out.”
You and him physically was always the shit. His arms across his chest did things to you But you kept mean mugging him, making him hard for you.
You stepped back and said, “Okay. You have 10 minutes. Then I’m out, Chris.”
You paced back to the couch in the living room of the suite, watching him warily.
Chris paced in front of you, making it inevitable that you follow his lean form back and forth across the carpet. You noticed that his hand was bandaged and that he kept flexing it.
You hoped it wasn’t broken. No matter what, you cared what happened to him. You would always love him. Even if it was the end of your relationship.
“First of all, I’m sorry. My anger got the best of me, and I was violent and that is never acceptable. Even though I didn’t touch you, it’s not ok, and I know it was intimidating. I take responsibility.”
He stopped and looked at you, you melted a little, but you didn’t give any outward sign. Being a business owner taught you a mean poker face.
But the shirt he was wearing made his true blue eyes pop and you could see a hint of his chain around his neck under the fitted henley.
You suppressed a shiver at the memory of the things you did to have that chain and medallion wave in your face, to have it clenched between your teeth as Chris had his way with you, and you with him.
You focused on him, pointedly looking at your watch. Chris’ anxiety peaked when he saw that.
He stepped toward you and thought that he recognized the look in your eyes. He was almost sure that you still wanted him, sure that you still cared. He could only hope as he came closer.
“And then I started drinking. And while you were gone, I came across some posts about me and Jenny. And it took me back there.”
At those words, you crossed your arms and averted your eyes, defenses up. You didn’t want to hear about how much he loved Jenny.
Then, Chris swiftly moved to sit on his haunches, becoming eye level with you.
“And I realized that she never really loved me. Not like you loved me.”
Chris speaking about your love in the past tense made you a little angry and you stared him in the eyes.
It was just the reaction he hoped for. Your attitude. He loved it. He hid a smirk so that he could continue, but you saw the glimmer in his eyes. And you rolled yours.
Chris then picked up the sash to your robe and started playing with it, your eyes drawn to his thick fingers. You didn’t know why that was getting you hot, but it was. You opened your mouth to breathe.
Chris’s voice cracked when he said. “And to me she was the mountaintop. Another, different kind of conquest. But I realized that I never really loved her. Not like I love you.”
Present tense.
Now you were looking into his eyes, about to fall into them. Shit. He had you hooked. But then you remembered, and drew back.
“Yeah, I know what I said, but what I was trying to express was that I know it could never be you to hurt me like Jenny did. That I didn’t want you to hurt me like she did. Not when I’ve thought about forever…”
He moved even closer. “I mean forever, forever, with you.”
All of a sudden you couldn’t breathe. Chris got on his knees.
“I want to be in this position again with you one day. One day soon. But not like this. I don’t want it to be to try to get you back. I want us to be good.”
He sighed, pensive. “I want you to be smiling and happy, and even have our families there.”
You don’t know how your face looked at that moment, but Chris started smiling at you. You were so beautiful to him right now.
“I was drunk, and I couldn’t use my words correctly. I yelled and I screamed and I punched the wall. I fucked up and may have lost you forever, but I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry.”
You felt yourself get emotional, but you tried to calm down.
“I’m just so fucking scared that you will get tired of all the bullshit that comes with me and leave… and I absolutely wouldn’t blame you. But there’s no one else, y/n. No one else can compare…”
“Chris…”
You raised your hand to his face, eyes searching his. You could tell he was being honest.
Chris grabbed your hand and started kissing your palm.
“So.” He looked at you with those eyes. “Is this goodbye?…” His lips were giving you shivers. “Or hello again? Can we start over?”
Chris trailed his lips from your palm, to the pulse point at your wrists and lingered there, licking the delicate skin. Then he moved up your arm to the opening in the robe.
He pushed his torso in between your legs and leaned into your neck, inhaling the lavender bath oil that was your favorite. And his, too.
He moaned as you leaned your head to the side, giving him access. But he didn't just want the physical. He breathed into the shell of your ear.
“Please come home, baby…”
You just moaned as he started sucking right below your ear, your spot. Desire took over for Chris when he heard your sounds.
“Fuck it. I can tell that you still want me. If this is goodbye, then I’m going to make it worth your time.”
Your back arched and Chris palmed your bounteous ass over the robe, pulling you flush to his crotch. He smiled as he felt the warmth coming from you.
“You’re so fucking warm, babe. Are you wet, too? Are you wet for me? Do you want my cock? I mean, do you want your thick, fat, cock to fuck you babe?”
Chris was kissing down your neck into the cleavage that the robe was revealing with each sentence as you opened your legs. Your pussy was quivering for him, but you still didn’t answer him.
Chris looked up at you with those eyes and pulled on the robe sash. It fell open and he looked down and bit his lip, taking in your warm skin, lovely breasts, and elegant pussy, with the manicured triangle of hair kept like he preferred, and offered up for his taking.
You still looked like his girl, and he smiled as he looked up into your eyes. But he had to be certain. He lowered his head, keeping eye contact and descended toward one small hard mountain peak, kissing it gently, tentatively, while watching you.
You were mesmerized as his tongue peeked out and licked it, then he opened his lips and enveloped it, moistening it with his pink lips.
The look on your face compelled him, and he fully enveloped your nipple and started sucking roughly, still keeping eye contact. You were determined not to close your eyes, but it was difficult. You bit your lip to stay still.
Chris’s bandaged hand was dangerous, however, and it came up to pinch and roll your other nipple. You arched into his hand as he became rougher and rougher.
He switched nipples and hands and his saliva made your breast that much more pliable and sensitive. He slapped it, and then rubbed it with the rough bandage, making you cry out and moan as his other hand trailed down your body to your cunt.
“This pussy will still be mine, even if you leave me.” He smiled cockily while looking down on it.
He looked at you, before lifting his hand to his mouth, looking straight into your eyes and spitting on his fingers before bringing them down to your cunt.
“I think, that if even if you leave and move back to Houston, and I come to town, that if I I call you, even if you’re with someone else, you would meet me in a parking lot and let me fuck you over the hood of my rental car.”
He was faintly tracing your pussy lips and instantly your control was gone. You were sopping wet, because of his words and because of the knowledge that what he was saying was the truth.
“Oh,” was all you could say. You were adding to the wetness of the saliva on his fingers.
Chris smiled and tilted his head as his two thick digits breached your opening. He had his answer as you threw your head back and let him finger fuck you while he rolled and slapped and pinched your nipple.
His thumb was lightly brushing your clit and you wanted so much more. Chris could sense that and he pressed down roughly on it, causing an electric jolt up your body, which you keened for, arching your body into his hand.
Chris moved his hand from your breast to your neck and applied the pressure that you wanted and needed and that he was expert at while he stuffed another finger inside you and circled your clit with his thumb.
You floated among the clouds as you came like fireworks, and all over his hand.
He watched you come undone, and come down, rubbing his hard cock through his pants with one hand while he sucked your juices off his fingers, releasing each with a loud pop. When you opened your eyes, you smiled.
You pulled his hand and started licking yourself off him, flattening your tongue against his palm.
“I forgive you Chris. I forgave you when you conned your way into my room, you ass.”
You smiled against his hand as he groaned, relieved and desperate for you.
“But you still have some work to do.”
“What do you want? Anything.”
Now Chris was breathless, anticipating payback.
“First, you need to take those damn clothes off.”
He quickly moved to take off his shirt, and then stood up to take off his pants. You smirked as hs cock sprang up immediately when he peeled them down. He wasn’t wearing underwear.
Chris caught your look.
“What? I wanted to be prepared.” He chuckled softly while pumping his cock lightly, expecting to immediately fuck you.
He moved toward you. But you quickly moved off the couch and into the bedroom, forcing him to follow you, and his dick, into the other room.
You sat on the edge of the bed as he remained standing.
“What do you need, babe?”
You reached for his cock and tugged it toward you, opening your mouth and deep throating it, wetting it from root to tip and then spit on it. Chris moaned as you started to stroke. Then you stopped.
“I need you to jack off for me.”
“Ugh! You’re so fucking nasty. I love you.”
Chris instantly started where you left off. This didn’t seem like work.
You leaned back on your elbows, watching him, and licking your lips.
“And I need for you not to stop, and not to come. Until I tell you.”
You looked him in the eye and that was when Chris knew he was doomed. A chill ran down his spine as you reached down and started playing with your pussy.
“Fuck!”
You looked so damn good. He licked his lips and stroked harder and faster, his balls drawing up already.
“Shit, y/n.”
You watched his eyes, and got wetter at his blown pupils and glazed look.
“You like that?”
“Fuck yeah.”
His voice was broken and desperate. He fisted his cock, and held his balls, trying to stave off the inevitable.
You turned around, got on your knees and reached back between your legs and ran your fingers up and down your slit.
“How about that?”
“Goddamnit!”
Chris grunted as he tried to hold it in. You were a goddess. He licked his lips. Wanting to taste you. So he did.
He dove in, tongue competing with your fingers to command your slit. You finally gave in to his expert mouth and he savored your salty goodness.
“Fuck, Chris, you better still be…”
“I am. Christ.”
He was leaking in his hand, but he had it under control. Barely.
Chris stopped eating you out for a second, grabbed your ass cheek with one hand, stretched you open, spit on your tighter hole, and watched it slide down your satin lips to drip onto the bed.
His warm saliva made your pussy quiver and he watched it lovingly. Then he dove in again.
He sped up his movements with his other hand and you could hear the smooth skin of his dick sliding on his palm while his tongue did forbidden things to you.
“Ffffffuuckkkkkkk! Chrisssss.”
You came, burying your scream in the mattress, and even harder than before. You couldn’t believe that he’d turned the tables on you.
Chris ate you out through your orgasm, holding you down with one hand like it was nothing.
He was god of war, love, and sex, all at once.
Fuck Captain America.
You came again, almost immediately.
When he was done with his meal, he let you go, wiped his mouth with the back of his free hand and stepped back.
“Fuck, what do you want me to do? I can’t take it much longer…” Chris’s sexy growling voice got to you.
“What do you wanna do, Chris? How do you want to take me, Daddy?” Chris’s cock jumped in his hand, he slapped your ass, and watched it jiggle.
Chris entered your wet, wet pussy, and marvel how if felt like it was choking the life out of him. He had to stop moving, or he would burst almost immediately.
“How the fuck are you so wet, but so tight. It’s like a fucking vice grip, geeze.”
You both waited and felt it jump inside you, then Chris reached down, grabbed you by the neck and pulled you upright and flush to his chest.
One hand clutched your throat and the other arm hooked under your leg, allowing him to piston up into you upright while your other leg dangled, your big toe barely touching the ground.
Chris held you and fucked up into you, grunting each time the large mushroom cap head of his cock was stuffed into your pussy.
“Ugh, gatdamn it, you were thinking of leaving, ugh, you wanted to leave this, mmmmmm, this dick that, ugh, that fucks you like this?”
Chris’s mouth was near your ear, which was on his shoulder because your head had fallen back on his chest. He was using you like a sex toy as he fucked you senseless.
His dick slicked in and out of you with obscene wetness, Chris somehow lifting you up and slipping completely out of you and pounding back into you with force.
“Chris!!!”
You started shaking, your center of gravity being where you and he were connected.
He fucked you even harder and faster, chasing his release, but he maneuvered his hand to find your clit, refusing to come before you.
“Fuck! You know you were going to miss this cock that your sweet cunt fits… like… a …mutha …fuckin… glove!”
"Ahhhh!"
You screamed as you fluttered around his cock. He could take only so much before he had to shut his eyes and bite down on your collarbone. Chris’s legs were trembling now.
"Take all of it!." He was hitting your spot. "How does it feel?"
Although the feeling was intense, you tried to speak.
"L-l-l-like h-heav-v-v-ennnnn."
The sound of your voice made his release start to build.
With each of his thrusts, the sweet tightness began to build until you came, screaming and moaning in pleasure.
“Oh shiiiiitttttt!” Chris exploded inside your tight wet cunt. He wanted to fill you up like never before. He wanted to put his baby in you and tie you forever to him. That made his balls empty.
He fell back on the bed, with you on top of him, slipping out of you and depositing you on the bed beside him.
Chris couldn't help but smile as you both came down. He was made for this.
Chris put his hand on your cheek, brushing your beautiful lips with his thumb. You smiled under his attention into his sea blue eyes.
“I love you.” You grinned.
“God, I love you.” You sobered up, taking in the weight of his words.
“Is it weird that I want to get you pregnant before we’re married?”
You made a face.
“Who says I want to marry you?”
Chris scooped you in his arms and rolled you over on top of him.
“You don’t want to marry me? You’d say no if I asked?”
You held in a giggle.
“Nah. I’m gonna move back to Houston and marry someone else so you can come in town and fuck me over the hood of your rental car. That sounds hot as fuck.”
Chris released an anxious breath.
You took his head in your hands.
“Easy now. Ask what you want to ask.” Chris started to speak. You put your finger over his mouth.
“When you want to ask it.” You looked into his eyes again. “I won’t break your heart.”
Chris smiled at you and said, “I know.” He kissed you.
And when you pulled away, breathless, he told you, “You’re the One.”
----------- Read Part Two: It Takes Two
Let me know what you think. Like, comment, reblog! Tags:
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#Chris Evans#chris evans x female reader#chris evans x black reader#chris evans smut#chris evans imagine#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans ask#chris evans fic#chris evans x you#chris evans reader insert#chris evans angst#ask dj
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Off My Face.
Pairing: Jungkook X OC female (nameless)
Tags: fluff, slight angst, eventual smutty smut, softJK.
Disclaimer: So, I literally created a Tumblr to post this mess. There are already a bunch more parts written which I can post if wanted. Haven't written anything in ages so be nice and forgive my overwhelming JK softness. :p
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Who's that?" She asked, leaning against the wall next to Namjoon. He raised an eyebrow as he scanned the room, clearly confused. "Who?" He replied. "The purple haired dude that just walked in. Over there by the door. Black jacket." She muttered, squinting through the darkness. Namjoon chuckled and looked at her like she was crazy. "What do you mean? It's Jungkook." He said.
She gasped and squinted even harder. "Eh??" She squeaked. "That's not Jungkook. Look at the hair. It's...long, and there's way more tattoos there than Jungkook has and..." Her rebuttal died mid sentence as Mystery Purple Hair moved out of the shadows of the doorway and she saw him clearly. It was indeed Jungkook but he looked...different. She'd only been gone a couple of months but apparently that was all it took for Jungkook to transform himself. He looked...older. He appeared to have shed his "puppy" look and what was stood across the room from her was nothing but man. Hot man. Jungkook scanned the room, stopping to talk briefly to Jin before he caught sight of her. His face broke into its token bunny smile and he said something to Jin who nodded before he made his way across the room. "You're back!" He grinned. She gulped quickly, paying absolutely no attention to the nose dive her stomach was currently doing into her shoes as he approached her. "I'm back" she confirmed, returning his smile. He strode straight over, scooping her up into a bear hug. "How was England? Did you miss us? Are you happy to be back?" Jungkook asked, setting her back on the floor and pulling back. She nodded. "Massively. England was...England. Cold, wet, grey, joyless. But nevermind that, what happened to you? Someone leave you alone with a Sharpie?" She teased, pulling his right arm out by then wrist and turning it over to indicate his new ink. He chuckled. "I like them" he shrugged. She glanced up, catching his big brown eyes then gasped again. A silver bar now pierced his eyebrow. "And you've poked holes in your face. Was nobody watching the maknae while I was away?" She teased. Jungkook rolled his eyes and grinned. "Welcome home" he said, pulling her into another hug. She spent the evening catching up with her boys. Laughing riotously, eating great food, regluing herself to Suga's side and wondering why she ever felt the need to go back to England. If anything, the trip back to her country of origin had done nothing more than cement the fact that there was nothing there for her anymore. Her life was here. Her family was here. Her family was the people all gathered in this house. She felt utterly content and beyond happy to be back. However, there was a niggling little something that was putting a crimp on her perfect homecoming. She could not, for the life of her, pry her mind off Jungkook. And as the evening drew to a close and one by one, the guys started retreating to their rooms, the noise died down and her thoughts got louder. What had happened to him? What had happened to her that she couldn't focus on anything but him. He was just Jungkook. She'd known him years. He was one of her family. He meant the same to her as the others. But her mind was screaming and his name was the only thing it was saying. It was approaching 3am. Suga had passed out hours ago and was fast asleep sprawled along one side.of the corner sofa next to her. The room was in total darkness except for the flicker of light from the TV screen. Namjoon was half asleep on her other side. Hobi, Jin, and Jimin had gone to bed already. V was sat at a table opposite tucking into some Ramen with Jungkook. Both engrossed in their conversation and their noodles, she allowed herself to study him in the flickering light. His hair was considerably longer than when she last saw him and now coloured a deep purple, Contrasting strongly against his flawless skin and framing his face perfectly, then resting just above his shoulders. Her urge to run her fingers though it was making her hands restless and she fidgeted uncomfortably on the sofa. She swallowed hard, her eyes skipping over his features. Pretty brown eyes, newly pierced eyebrow which really suited him, cute nose, sensual, slightly pouty lips that broke into the most disarming smile, strong jawline, slender neck. She tried to swallow past her increasingly dry mouth as she became painfully aware of her heartbeat, thudding more and more erratically the longer she looked at him. She reprimanded herself silently, arguing in
her mind that this was ridiculous. He was Jungkook. It didn't matter that her stomach rolled uncomfortably every time he looked at her. It didn't matter that she wanted to trace every line of the dark ink that snaked his arm with her fingertips. It didn't matter that all she could think about was running her nose slowly along his jawline, inhaling the scent of his skin as she clenched his soft, long hair in her fingers. It didn't matter that there was nothing she wanted more than to disappear in him. Her nose brushing his, close enough to feel his warm breath between them, his lips parted, hers skimming gently along his, hot, heavy breath, the pressure of his soft lips yielding to hers, the taste of his tongue. His hands, strong, firm, sliding slowly down her back, hitching up her shirt to touch skin as he pulled her closer. Her eyes fluttered, her breath caught in her throat, stomach churning. What the hell? It was Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook. This couldn't be happening. She snapped back into herself so suddenly she wondered if she'd actually fallen asleep. Her heart was racing. Tae and Jungkook were looking at her when her eyes finally focused on a solid object. "Bad dream?" Tae asked with an amused smile. "Did I fall asleep?" She muttered, genuinely confused. She kept her gaze locked firmly on Tae. She could see Jungkook out of the corner of her eye but was terrified that whatever had just happened to her was written all over her face. "Well you just jumped out of your skin so I figured you had." He replied. Her face was burning. She could practically still feel Jungkook, smell him, taste him. She needed to get out of here. She jumped up, causing Suga whose head had been resting against her knee to flop unceremoniously back onto the sofa, waking him with a start. "HUH? He yelped. "Erm....sorry Shugs" she muttered, ruffling her hair and trying to get her bearings while still carefully avoiding looking at Jungkook at all. "I need to go...pass out" she grumbled, heading straight for the stairs without looking back. She knew that exit was highly suspicious but once into the safety of her room, she didn't care. She leaned against the door, bracing it with her body as though she expected someone to try kick it in. The air was cool and refreshing thanks to the open window and she breathed steadily, trying to return her thumping heart to a regular rhythm. "Oh this is not good!" She whispered. --------------------------------------------------------------------- The following morning came far too quickly after a restless night. She just couldn't settle. Her stomach was in knots. What the hell had happened last night? What was that half awake fantasy business and why was it replaying in her mind like an iMax movie with full surround sound and smell-o-vision. She dreaded leaving the confines of her room for fear of running into him. Just the thought of seeing him made her stomach churn. "This is stupid!" She grumbled to herself, throwing her legs off the bed defiantly. "I will not be a prisoner in this god damn room for nothing. Last night was...a one off. Everything is fine. I will go downstairs, I will see Jungkook and he will just be Jungkook. No weird romance movie slideshow, no flutterings, thoughts or desires of any kind. Just...normal" Even she didn't really believe her whispered self pep talk but she feigned conviction anyway. She slid out of bed, pulled on ripped jeans and a hoodie and approached her bedroom door. With a deep breath, she reached for the handle and practically threw herself out of her room. Her determination was not only building by the second but she was also flooded with a sense of defiance. She jogged down the stairs, ready for the day ahead. Looking forward to hanging out with the boys and having a lazy day. She could hear the faint murmer of chatter as she approached the kitchen. Hobi was up for sure and maybe Namjoon. She strode into the kitchen with a bright smile. "Morning guys!" She was greeted with a chorus of responses and scanned the room. Hobi making coffee. Namjoon leaning on the
counter. Suga slumped at the kitchen table. Jimin and Tae chatting as they poured orange juice. No Jungkook. She ignored the wave of relief and made a beeline for Suga, ruffling his hair as he grumbled sleepily against the table top. "Morning Shugs" she grinned. Namjoon was looking at her quizically. "You seem...better today" he mused. She raised a questioning eyebrow at him as she squeezed passed Hobi for the coffee pot. "Better?" He nodded with a look of amusement. "You were...weird yesterday. Not yourself. You seemed...distracted." he said. She shrugged and shook her head. "Jetlag probably. I felt kind of out of it to be honest. Just needed to be home and sleep" she replied, nonchalantly. Namjoon wasn't buying it at all and she could tell by the look on his face but he nodded as though he accepted her reasoning. She stayed in the kitchen with the guys, filling them in on her trip back to England and what had happened during the 3 months away. She got so caught up in it that she didn't think about Jungkook at all. That was, until he came down. She was halfway through her bowl of cereal when he padded into the kitchen. Barefoot in black shorts and an oversized white t shirt showing off his tattoos. His long hair deliciously tousled. He was still sleepy eyed but he looked warm and...inviting. She dropped her spoon, clattering loudly against the table making everyone turn and look at her. "Whoops. Butter fingers" she mumbled sheepisly. Everyone carried on with what they were doing apart from Namjoon who was looking from her to Jungkook with a smirk. "Jetlag come back?" He teased. She could feel the heat rising to her face and hoped to every deity under the sun that she wasn't blushing. "Never dropped anything before?" She questioned. He shrugged and chuckled playfully. His gaze was casual but she felt like he could see every thought in her head. She pushed her half eaten cereal bowl away from her and leaned back in her chair. She was trying to look casual but had an inkling that she was failing miserably. Suddenly Jungkook was right behind her, leaning over the back of her chair to reach for her unfinished cereal. His hair tickled the side of her face and the faint fruity smell she associated with him flooded over her. Her breath caught sharply. Her heart kicking into double time. It lasted literally seconds but it seemed like an age before he straightened up with his stolen breakfast. He flashed her a bunny smile and wandered over to the fridge to grab milk. She realised she'd been holding her breath the entire time and let out a quiet huff. Namjoon's smirk had turned into a full blown grin. Flustered, she stood from the table and exited the kitchen. Maybe she'd find some solace in the lounge. She flopped wearily onto the sofa, closing her eyes and exhaling slowly. Damn. It didn't make any sense. How in the hell had Jungkook turned from bunny to honey overnight. A few more tattoos, an eyebrow piercing and slightly longer hair didn't change him that dramatically. He was still the exact same Jungkook she'd known for years. But...he wasn't. He was hot. Like...painfully, sinfully, stomach clenchingly hot. Had he always been this hot and she'd just not noticed? She knew he was attractive in the general sense. She worked for BTS. She saw the effect he had on women every day of her life. But... she'd never been one of them. He was just...adorable, sweet, regular Jungkook. Now one trip to England had turned the world on its head and there was nothing regular about him. She groaned with annoyance, closing her eyes. She was going to be objective about this if it killed her. She'd always been close to all the guys. Each one had a different facet to their personality that made them so very dear to her. Yoongi was a part of her. She loved him completely. Namjoon was her confidante. She could talk about anything with him and absolutely trust that he'd never give her anything back but honesty and understanding. Jimin was her sunshine. He could brighten the darkest of days with no effort. Tae was her sweetheart. One of the most
genuine, lovely people she'd ever known. Hobi and Jin made her laugh until she couldn't breathe on days when laughter seemed a million miles away. And Jungkook was a bunny. Sweet, playful, easy going, her gaming buddy. They were all integral to her. But NEVER in a romantic sense. It seemed almost laughable to her to put romance and any one of them in the same place. It just wasn't that thing. Ever. They were family. More than simple, fleeting romance. They were her ride or die. None of the others had changed a bit. She still loved them completely. She'd still die for any one of them. But now Jungkook wasn't so much tiptoeing as stomping in huge obnoxious boots into a whole new territory for her. Him and romance seemed intrinsically linked. They went together like water and ...more water. She couldn't even look at him without her mind throwing up a million different scenarios, none of which were located even remotely near the friend zone. She pictured him as he was when he walked into the kitchen. Objectively, that was just early morning after not a lot of sleep Jungkook. Not like she hadn't seen him like that a thousand times before. But this morning he was different. Sleepy, disheveled, soft and warm, relaxed, comforting and so so sexy. Jungkook and sexy were not two words that went together. Now she couldn't separate the two if her life depended on it. God, he was sexy. Like, lose all thought, toe curling, scream into a pillow sexy. Her mind raced, presenting her with thoughts to only fuel the fire. Him laid in bed, languid and comfortable, snuggling into him, feeling his body heat, legs entwined, burying her face into the back of his neck, smelling his hair as he grumbles happily, rolling towards her with a sleepy smile, his eyes still closed, skimming his fingertips up her arm until they stop on her neck, his thumb slowly stroking along her jaw, his lips meet hers in a lazy kiss, still halfway between sleep and waking, sweet to begin with, gentle, his lips brushing softly as he's pulled from his sleep, then teasing as he realises what's going on, his lips part, his tongue tickling her lips, asking for entry which is happily granted. His hand moves from her neck back down her arm until he finds her hand. Their fingers entwine as he rolls her onto her back and straddles her, lifting her hands to pin them either side of her head. He's more forceful now, tongues brushing together, his kiss deep and heady. A soft moan of contentment rumbles in his throat. He breaks the kiss, her eyes flutter open to see him on top of her, hair falling into his eyes as he scrunches his nose up in a wide smile. "Good morning" he whispers. "Everything ok?" A voice broke her from her daydream and her eyes snapped open. Namjoon was stood in the doorway of the lounge with the same grin he'd been sporting when she'd left the kitchen. "Peachy. Why?" She responded with a tight smile. "You're being weird again. If I didn't know better I'd think you and Jungkook hooked up" he shrugged. "WHAT?" she squeeked. Her attempt at casual fell completely flat. She sounded more like she'd just been stung by a bee. Namjoon laughed heartily. "Something's going on. What it is?" He questioned. She considered brushing it off but this was Namjoon. He could read her like a children's book. She swallowed hard, suddenly needing to say everything in her head out loud to a human person. Maybe that would make her realise how dumb it was and restore her sanity. She sighed heavily and noticing the expression on her face, Namjoons grin faded into a look of concern. "Can we talk?" She muttered. He frowned, nodding. "Of course. What is it?" He asked. She looked around and ran her fingers though her hair. "Not here. Outside?"
#jungkook#jungkook x reader#jjk#bts namjoon#bts fanfic#bts#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fluff#jungkook smut#bts ot7
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Fine Dining and Roses.
back to homepage pairing : nanami kento x gender neutral reader warnings : cursing (i think), i didn’t proof-read, fluff i guess? wordcount : 1600 a/n : this is my first nanami related anything and omg the way i headcanon him makes him appear as some sort of old man asuhjdnsajkdnsa LOL ████████████████ 100% Complete. Enjoy your game.
Crossing your legs, you nervously tap your foot against the table’s legs, you weren’t used to such a professional atmosphere. This certainly wasn’t commonplace, after all, you even saw some top names from the Japanese filming industry chatting and eating, and you swear you’re sweating bullets. Nervously wiping at your forehead with the handkerchief graciously gifted to you by the waiters, you straighten your back. “Relax.” you hear your boyfriend say, and you look up to stare at his eyes. Striking, one would almost say dead, but you see a lukewarm smile on his lips that someone would otherwise call scary, but you knew Nanami like that. Wearing a black dress suit, alongside a crisp dress shirt- not even a wrinkle in sight- he paired them with casual black slacks. The whole thing that brought the outfit together? You were almost sure it was the belt, but you wondered why he was always so over the top, no matter for what occasion. “Sorry.” you breathe out, and he chuckles dryly before taking off the black dress suit, neatly placing it over the cushioned chair. “Why would you apologize for that?” he asked, a hint of sarcasm sprinkled in his voice, and you swear your heart is just about to burst. “...I don’t know, okay?!” you reply, your cheeks warming up, you would never hear the end of this for the rest of the night, but you didn’t mind. When Nanami teased you, it made your heart flutter. Maybe it was because he was serious and cold with everyone else, and so playful and bright with you, you weren’t entirely sure. “How cute. Do you want a drink?” he questioned before picking up the menu, eyes briefly scanning it. You too pick up the menu, and your eyes damn near bulge out of your head. Expensive alcohol, expensive casual drinks, expensive everything. Was it even legal to charge 70$ for a simple bottle of sake? You weren’t even going to get into the wine, that was on a whole other level. “Well, my love? You don’t need to worry about the expenses.” he placed the menu down, calculating eyes boring into your soul. “I work a boring job just to spoil you, after all.” “These are really expensive...” you don’t lock eyes with him, even though you had dated him for a long time, you still found those eyes to be sort of scary. Not in a bad way necessarily, but just... Scary. “I’ll just have a water-” “No. You will not be having water. You always worry too much about money.” he leaned over the table, thumb placed onto your chin, slightly tipping your head upwards. The rest of his fingers caressing your skin in any way possible. His fingers were cold to the touch, and you shiver, eyes darting left and right before you build enough courage to look at him back. He’s not looking at you, rather, the menu you were holding- and he was looking at it upside down. Did this guy have anything he was bad at? “Hm, darling, didn’t you say you like sweet tea? This is fairly inexpensive, 25 dollars?” he pointed at the inscription, a picture of sweet tea right next to it. You had to admit, it did look yummy, and you swallow just now realizing how dry your throat is. “No.. I think I’ll just have water-” “Listen, love.” he looked back up into your eyes. “I know you want it, just say it already.” That was also something you always loved about Nanami, he was persistent and stubborn. You didn’t mind water, but you also didn’t mind sweet tea, you just didn’t want to create a deeper hole in his wallet. “Let’s skip appetizers.” sitting back down on his seat, he yawned before placing an arm on the table, arm rubbing against the white stainless cloth. Looking back up from your menu, you look at his sandy blonde hair that you found yourself to comb with your hands mercilessly every single night, he always was annoyed when you did it, and you can’t help but question what he would do now- especially since he had brushed it to look perfect. “I know what you’re thinking. No. You’re not going to do that. Did you pick anything yet?” “How’d you know?- You know what, nevermind.” shaking your head, you giggle. It was like he could read your mind. “Uh, this sounds good. The grilled salmon?” you were talking out of your own ass, to be truthful. Fancy restaurants weren’t your thing, and nor was the food. Salmon was familiar enough. “Wonderful choice. I knew I picked well when I started dating you, my sweet.” crossing his arms, he had an arrogant smile that he couldn’t quite hide from you, it just showed how much you mattered to him, as he didn’t hand out compliments like candy. “May I take your order? We have a special Valentines Day sale, so every dish is 10% off.” the waitress whipped out a notepad, pencil behind her ear. Even the work uniforms here were formal. “Yes, thank you ma’am.” Nanami licked his finger before flipping the page of his menu. “May we have grilled salmon, for the both of us, sweet tea, and champagne?” God, you found his polite tone so attractive for little to no reason. The waiter quickly jotted everything down, before nodding. “Alright, I’ll be back with your drinks! Please let me know if you need anything~” before walking off, and you can still hear the clacking of her heels against the floor. Once the waiter was gone from both of your vision’s, Nanami turned back to look at you, as he was admiring the architecture of the establishment. “You’re adorable.” was all that left his lips. Blushing, you awkwardly smile at him back, you weren’t good with compliments, and he knew you weren’t. He just found you so endearing. “Shut up, Nanami.” his arm reached out to touch yours, and so did yours. Briefly touching each others hands, he stared lovingly at you, and you did so back. “Ahem.” Immediately jumping up, you look at the waiter, who had a smug all-knowing grin plastered onto her face. Two drinks sat on top of a silver platter, one had a lemon slice on the side, and the other was obviously champagne. “Your sweet tea and champagne, your food will be coming out shortly.” Nodding, you turn to face Nanami yet again, praying that he didn’t see you jolt up like that, but his sly smile says otherwise. “Are you that embarrassed that the world knows your mine?” he had a neutral look on his face, and you take a second to marvel at his cheekbones and defined jawline before snapping out of your daze. “It was only one person! That’s not the whole world, Nana!” you say, growing more comfortable in your seat, surprisingly it was pretty fun being here. Taking a light sip of your sweet tea, you savor the slight lemon-y taste. “Nana. That’s a new one.” scoffing, he too took a sip of his beverage, smacking his lips together. “I like it.” “The drink or?” “Both, but I think I like you more.” Not knowing how to respond to that, you look down at your lap, and you hear him laugh a little before feeling him plant a kiss onto your forehead, whipping out his phone as he sat back down on his chair. “Hmmm... The stock market isn’t doing so well right now.” he turned his back on you, whispering to himself. The guy swore to every God out there that he was not interested in his job, but you just knew he had an interest in finances in general, which you also liked about him. He was dorky, in his own way, and it was adorable. “Blegh... Nerd talk, nerd talk.” Placing your arm on your table and resting your hand on your chin, you use your unoccupied one to have your hand seem to yap away- 4 fingers repeatedly tapping against your thumb so that it looked like a mouth. “It reels in copious amounts of money, but I fucking hate it, haven’t I told you this multiple times?” he tsked. “Language, Nanamin!” you warn, as if you could place a finger on him, ignoring his previous comment. “Yeah, yeah. Oh hey, look, she’s back with our food.” Looking back up, the first thing you realize was how god damn delicious the salmon looked, and your stomach grumbles with excitement, the other? A bouquet of roses that she was holding, rogue rose petals dancing down onto the floor, a bow loosely wrapping the flowers together. It takes a while to recognize what Nanami had done prior to this. Looking at him, your mouth opening and closing, eyes wide open, you try to speak but you can’t. He gazes back unanswering, but his eyes tell you everything you need to know, he probably doesn’t regret it. “Nanami Kento-” “Shhh...” he shushes you up, crossing his legs, before letting his sneaking smile go free. “Happy Valentines Day, darling.” “Fuck you! Is this why you didn’t let me take you out for a date this time around?” you whine. Nanami covered his mouth, but you can still hear him laughing. Truthfully you gave no fucks, and was just happy that Nanami was so romantic, but the guy was gonna be the death of you. “Love you too, darling.” Yeah, he definitely was going to be the death of you, but at this point, you didn’t care.
#nanami kento#valentines fic#valentines day#jjk#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen#nanami#jujutsu kaisen nanami kento#jjk nanami kento#nanami kento fic#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento x you#nanami kento x y/n#jujutsu kaisen fic#jujutsu kaisen fluff#fluff#fluff fluff and more fluff#nanami x you#nanami x reader#nanami x y/n#anime fic#fanfiction#fanfic#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#this is also apart of the event#nanami kento x gender neutral reader
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hoo was so fucking strange because that idea that the gods shouldn't be involved kept getting pushed, yet literally most of the things that happened to fulfill the prophecy were because gods got involved? it was jump-started with hera switching jason and percy, nevermind her messing with jason and leo's lives prior to this nor pluto's pushing to not go to alaska ultimately made marie susceptible to the influence to go to alaska. the lost trios quest revolved around saving hera, but the son trios quest had to save thanatos. it's freaking aphrodite of all people who alludes that the villain is gaea, while it's aeolus who gives leo the argo 2 drawing again. and like, it's questionable as to what this lead to eventually but nemesis gave leo that stupid fortune cookie to worry about, but leo also had to make sure frank wasn't gonna kill him cause frank had both ares and mars in his head. but regardless, annabeth had some strange side quest to do for athena's sake (????), but then they fall in tartarus and hazel visits hecate to get a power up? leo gets blasted away to calypso? nico meets cupid for a wizard stick? even in tartarus, percy and annabeth rely on bob the titan, but also a fallen hermes shrine for food? and then it's nike who's the one to even suggest the physicians cure plan, like leo didnt have a CLUE what that was until she mentioned it, and then apollo artemis asclepius and some other randos are there at there to confirm and help with this plan that leo didn't even come up with, but like, literally all of this is just so ????
like here's the thing: how can the gods not help be involved, when they are so entwined with moving the plot forward that without them, nothing would happen? and beyond that hole, it is incredibly alarming how much the gods really do use their children as pawns. like, the mark of athena quest makes this pretty clear, but also? they are not constrained to the time and form and power of demigods. they allow children to fight for them, yet believe they have the right to pick favorites and boast champions? the gods are doing most of the work and planning, but shed no blood at the end of the day. luke kinda was right (he was wrong, but he was right)... and this is literally SO STUPID considering half of the people the seven met are just like "yeah, the gods and magic fucked up my life". the seven really should've just said bitch me too????
like, i keep coming back to how none of that physicians cure plan was ever really leo's. maybe he wouldn't have died? maybe jason would've died instead? maybe frank or hazel or percy or annabeth or all of the above? hoo was so weird for that "the gods don't interact with demigods"???? HUH???? why was nemesis sharing her chinese food order with them??? hera was basically living with jason, and ares and nike literally WAS???? apollo gets punished cause octavian was a little too kill-happy, but zeus, my man, ur whole extended family had the seven on speed-dial??? all in all bro, if the gods just paid their child support and stayed in this magic cloud penthouse or whatever, the plot and outcome of hoo would've been entirely different
#the seven#hoo#like HUH?????#sick of these damn plot holes 😩 what even#why was the whole damn pantheon involved like dont yall got some weather to fuck with or something#they were just being so nosy omg#like... i get the whole dreams thing but???? WHY WERE THEY ALWAYS THERE 😭😭😭😭 DON'T THEY HAVE OTHER THINGS TO DO????#'yo lets defeat gaea' 'nah its the kids turn'#like HUH???????#anyway do i tag each of the seven? nah probs not lets not deal with that#nah im not tagging then u will find this post somehow 😩#jk here we go#leo valdez#jason grace#piper mclean#percy jackson#hazel levesque#annabeth chase#frank zhang#um yeah okay thats all#does this make sense tho or do i not know what im talking about again#anyway good night but for reao#rwal dhsusjsj#REAL
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Hanafuda || Amane Yugi
(Part 1 of 10)
genre: fluff, school, slice of life, modern au (where all wonders live)
summary: amane yugi spends his school days skipping classes until he meets [name] [surname], a student from the other class, who was also skipping classes and eventually the two of them formed a platonic friendship. cutting classes and playing hanafuda together strengthens their friendship but soon unexpected feelings blossom between the two.
“Amane-kun.” [name] was shuffling the hanafuda cards together for them to play, she glanced over to the choppy haired boy who was sitting crossed legged against the rooftop's railings. “You going to the next class?”
“Nah.” Amane answers while fiddling with his locks of hair. “We probably skipped three classes this day, wanna skip classes in fourth period?” he smirked playfully.
“What class do you have in fourth period?” [name] asked, giving Amane some seven hanafuda cards. “Math?”
“Literature.” He received the cards and scooted in front of her. [name] flashed him a quick grin, her competitive side is showing all of a sudden when it comes to hanafuda. Amane stared at his cards and groaned. “Ugh, why do I get the worse cards?”
“I dunno, I wasn't looking when I was shuffling them.” [name] purses her lips together as she analyzes her cards. Her [eye color] colored eyes met with Amane's amber eyes. “Hm. Let's start!”
“You go ahead, [name]-san.”
“Hm~? Alrighty then~” [name] stretched her arms and let out a satisfying sound from her lips. She placed a sakura card with the tag to its match and took another card from the stack and placed it along with the cards on the center since it has no match. “Winner gets to sleep in the loser's lap.” she added.
“[name]-san, you know so damn well I'm not good with these things.” he murmured with a blush while putting a matsu card on the center.
Amane met [name] by chance. He often skip classes alone week by week, no one seemed to notice his absence which was fine by him. One day, he decided to stay on the rooftop and saw a girl sitting by herself with her phone. It must be fate or a coincidence, he thought.
The thing is, he has never seen this girl from the classes he attended to so he assumed that she's from the different class where Tsukasa, his twin brother, is. “Tsukasa-kun?!” she exclaimed at their first encounter. “What the frickety frack are you doing here?!”
Amane scratches his cheek and sweat dropped. He spoke. “I'm not Tsukasa though, I'm his older twin.”
[name] blinked she stood up from the bench and went over to Amane. The choppy haired boy slightly backed away from her. “Your tone is lowered down a bit, your eyes shaped like the crescent moon, yeah you're not Tsukasa-kun.” she muttered.
“I'm Amane Yugi, first year highschool, from class A.” he introduced himself while twiddling his fingers. “I'm Tsukasa's older brother though.” he chuckled.
“[name] [surname], same year as you but I'm from class B. Nice to meet you, Amane-kun.” [name] sat back down to the bench, she patted the extra space next to her. “Come, sit next to me.”
Amane hesitated a bit but shrugged and sat next to [name]. The female grinned, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I guess you're skipping classes like me.”
“I've been skipping multiple times, no one noticed it yet, how about you?” Amane scooted closer till their shoulders touched, his bangs became parted from the side due to the slight wind that passed by.
“I started skipping on the beginning of first year.” [name] pulls out a packet of melon bread and gave it to Amane which he gratefully accepts it. Amane and [name] ate in pure silence, munching on to the bread that [name] bought recently which was originally for herself.
During those days of skipping classes, they would play hanafuda together on the rooftop. [name] would frequently win during their matches, guess luck really isn't compatible with Amane. The two of them quickly became close due to their meet ups when they're skipping classes together.
“Amane-kun, I know you have the full moon bright card.” [name] eyed him suspiciously but a shadow casted over to her face with a funny glint in her eyes. She placed an ume card with a red tag on it. “Red Poetry Tags, I win again~!”
“I couldn't even get a lot of yaku combinations.” Amane helped [name] to clean up the cards. “I knew I should give up the plain cards.”
Amane blushed at the thought of [name] laying down on his lap, he doesn't even know what to do when that happens, maybe he should play with her hair or massage her cheek?
[name] happily laid down on his lap, Amane grabbed his hoodie and placed it on top of her skirt. “Ne, [name]…” his hands reached over to caress her hair with his fingers. “Let's have lunch together.”
“Sure, I don't really have someone to share my lunch with,” Amane looked down on her laying on his lap and gave her a soft smile. He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and started to pet her head, he reminded her of a cat. [name] would often keep her distance from others makes her cat-like according to him.
Though there's a part of [name] that doesn't want to open up to people, Amane was pretty much the same as her. “I got tired from work, yesterday.” he mentions with a small chuckle.
“Wait, you have a part time job?” [name] asked as her eyes piqued in interest, wanting to know what he does for work. “Where?”
Amane's cheeks grew warm, he slightly drooped his eyes and said. “I'm not telling you.”
“Why though?”
“You'd probably show up if I did.”
[name] turned her head to face his embarrassed look. She smiled playfully while wiping a dramatic tear from her eye. “You know me so well.” she faked a sniff.
“It's embarrassing...” Amane grumbled. [name] reached her hand out and placed it on to his cheek. He leans against her touch, the feeling of warmth and serenity made him smile a bit.
“But it's not. The fact that you're working is admirable.” [name] assured him with a smile unbeknownst to her that Amane's heart definitely skipped a beat on that act. “Pinch~” she cheekily grins while pinching his cheek.
“Owsh—” Amane tried to say while his cheek is being pulled by [name] and by that she releases her cheek. “That hurts...” he pouted.
“Have this for payback.” Amane returned the favor by pinching her cheek. Her cheeks were like mochi, which he likes to point it out just to tease her. “Mochiii~”
[name] deadpans. “You're treating me like some kind of mochi instead of a person.”
“Exactly.” The bell suddenly rang interrupting the two teens. Amane grabbed his bag that was on the bench. [name] punched a hole on the juice box using a straw and took a sip.
Amane leaned back against the railings, unboxing his lunch and ate. [name] didn't feel like eating, a juice box can satisfy her stomach after all. “[name]-san, don't you have lunch?”
“I forgot it at home.” she replied nonchalantly, she kept on having a stoic face until her stomach betrayed her by letting out a small growl. Amane stop eating halfway at the sound. “That’s nothing~” she denied that she was hungry.
“Here, I’ll give you some of my lunch.” Amane picked up a piece of egg roll using his chopsticks and raised it in front of [name]. “Say ahh~”
“O-Oi!” [name] flinched as she backed away from him. Amane’s brow creases in pure confusion. “Y-You don’t have to...”
“I can’t let you skip lunch, [name]-san.” The choppy haired boy smiled while putting the egg roll near her mouth, then his smile turned into a painful one. “Just take a bite, my hand is getting tired.”
[name] sighed in defeat, she was very hungry and was wrong about the juice box making her full. She tucked a hair behind her ear and ate the egg roll that Amane offered for her, his heart skipped a beat whilst she pulled away. “I guess, sharing lunch is not a bad idea...”
“Also, your lunch tastes good.” [name] scooted next to Amane to see his boxed lunch, she pointed at the ghost-shaped sausages, the bunny shaped rice balls and egg rolls. “You made that?”
Amane nodded with a slight blush on his face but the smile on his face didn't falter. “Well yeah, at the first time I made one of these they were all sloppy but practice makes perfect so I'm able to make one. If you'd like, I'll make you one or we can be matching too~!”
“Let's have matching lunches, duh.” [name] opens her mouth and ate another piece of egg roll that Amane was offering her. “But before that, I'll make us some lunch for us to share.”
“[name]-san, here have a sausage.” Amane feeds her the ghost-shaped sausages which the latter hummed contently. Amane took a bite on one of the sausages, he pulled out his phone and swallowed his food. “Hey, [name]-san,”
[name] stopped chewing her food. “Hm?”
“Wanna go home early?” Amane said with a mischievous grin, he's mostly the bad influence when it comes to reckless things like skipping classes. [name] had no idea why he has a lot of plans regarding this. “This is getting boring, don't cha think so?”
“And how do we plan to sneak out from school?” [name] asked, quirking a brow whilst waiting for an answer.
“We can jump off the roof.” Amane suggests.
“No. We'll freaking die if we did or even break our bones.” [name] shuddered. “If we did, they'll think it's just some lovers' su—”
“Nevermind that then.” Amane flailed his hands in front of her. “I guess we should wait till dismissal then...”
“Wanna play again?” [name] asked as she showed him the small box containing the cards.
Amane smiled. “Sure.”
Amane sat alone on a concrete bench, listening to the soft pitter patter of the rain surrounding him. Holding the clear umbrella from his right hand, he sighed as if he's gonna make a monologue or something.
He has friends from his class but none of them made him feel real. The only person who can make him feel like himself was no other than [name].
[name], to Amane, was everything to him. Meeting her was fate as if they were meant to meet in the first place. Back then, Amane admired some girls yet only because they're pretty. None of them were ever even close to him, he only felt shallow for them.
“Sorry for making you wait—” [name]'s voice cuts him off from his inner monologue. She held up her school bag on top of her head to prevent her from the rain. She grins blithely. “You don't have to be sitting the exact same way.”
“My uniform is a bit soaked.” [name] added with a wince. Amane licked the side of his lip and stood up to put the umbrella above her. “It was literally sunny recently.”
“Hm, I'll be taking you home.” Amane hands her the umbrella to [name], went over to his bike and puts his school bag in the basket. “Which way is your house?”
“That's like a novel way to put it but I guess that works.” [name] pointed out. “Sounds like a romance cliche, not gonna lie, lmao.”
Amane stepped on to his bike, [name] held on to his shoulders from behind. He was thankful that she didn't get to see his blushing face, because that's lowkey what every guy felt when there's a girl behind them on a bike.
Amane started pedalling. [name] closes the umbrella and sits down instead. “It stopped raining, by the way.” she declared.
[name] wrapped her arms around his torso and that's how Amane's face erupt in a huge blush. “[name]-san?!” he stammered at the sudden action.
“...Don't say a word about this.”
“I'm sorry, what?”
[name]'s face flushes, she buried her face on his back and that's where his heart started to beat faster. Out of all the girls he admired throughout the years, his feelings for [name] is different.
How so you may ask? When Amane is around [name] it's like he's sitting on a fluffy pink cotton candy or maybe standing on water that reflects a pastel pink sky with soft looking clouds with her. “You know, with you hugging me from behind isn't that kinda...” Amane turned his head towards [name] and smirked playfully. “Bold for you~?”
[name] tightens the hold in irritation. “Ack—” Amane's hold on the handle became wobbly but managed to maintain his balance. [name] elicits a small giggle in return.
“Hm, wanna skip again tomorrow?”
“If its with you, why not?”
“You're so cheesy.” [name] slightly smacked his shoulder. Amane turned ahead, a smile forming from his lips.
‘Nonetheless, I don't really mind skipping with you even if it means being with you...’
“Hold on tight, we're going downhill!” Amane gripped on the handles of his bike. [name]'s eyes widened when she saw that that they were about to go down on a slope.
“Cheers to us delinquents!” [name] cheered before they go down to the road.
Definition and terms:
hanafuda - flower cards that can be played in a variety of games such as koi koi (the type of game that [name] and amane are playing with the cards)
sakura - cherry blossom
matsu - pine tree
ume - plum blossom
-end of part 1-
thank you for reading, make sure to like and reblog if you love this post~
taglist: @closetwaffle @closetweebsmh
#tbhk#jibaku shounen hanako kun#amane yugi#amane yugi x reader#anime#hanako x reader#fluff#yugi amane#yugi amane x reader#amane#hanako kun#jshk hanako#toilet bound hanako kun#hanako
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BABE U WRITE FOR SALLY FACE?? Anything with Travis (male s/o with him obviously) or Sally please :O your writing is amazing!!
YES I DO !! i used to have a bunch of wips i still haven’t finished but i figured i can still add sf to my list since it was such a comfort game when it came out haha. as per usual, this isn’t beta read, i fucked the formatting up twice but just squint when you notice any errors- also thank you love <3 i‘d give you a free bologna sandwich for requesting trav ily. 100% beef obviously /winkwonk
fabric
•warning: abuse, religious guilt, homophobia and f-slur use, bad first kisses, badly written fluff, travis being travis
Travis was meant to live a life molded for him by his father. The pattern was already placed on the fabric when his first cry shook the hospital room at 6:33am. He was supposed to be cut from his father‘s mold but Travis‘ fabric was already old and frayed, the intertwining strings of muted tones that held him together felt lose by the time he could run. Sometimes he thought about the reason why he was incomplete. His fabric wasn‘t strong enough to hold his family name, not stretchy enough to bounce back from his father‘s reactions. Travis‘ mother patched him up every time there was another bruise on his back or face. She would cut parts out of her own fabric to cover the ripped strings her husband‘s belt left on their son. But she had only so much left when the beatings got worse.
Travis was in middle school, attending a christian summer camp a few hours away from Nockfell. He never noticed how different the air was at home but the sky was so murky compared to literally everywhere else. His father thought it was a good idea to let the boy out of town while he took care of the Ministry business which was code for something Travis shouldn‘t stick his nose into. He never asked but someone went missing while he was gone. Tragic.
Not as tragic as the camp counselor calling Travis home on their last day. The boy didn‘t know about that but they told his father about some inappropriate behavior his son showed with a fellow camper - a boy his age, Kenneth didn‘t care for the name or where he was from. All he needed to know was what his son did with that boy. The counselor tried to calm the angry parent on the phone but as soon as the information was exchanged the line went dead. He didn‘t want to hear the washed up excuses. His son was young and it was best to get these urges out of his system before they could even develop - dig for the deepest root you could find and rip it from the still fresh ground before it bloomed into something ugly, even if that meant that the garden would never bloom at all. Kenneth was a man of action after all.
That evening Travis came home clueless while his father already stood in the hallway with his wife behind him, holding onto his hand and uttering whispered quick prayers but his thick fingers already curled around the leather painfully hard. The strain it caused in his hand only fueled the need for a release as he charged for his son who didn‘t even have the chance to slip out of his worn sneakers.
That evening his mother didn‘t stay when Kenneth told her to go to bed early. Travis asked himself if it pained her the same way it pained him when his skin split under the force his father put in his first few strikes.
“You want to hold hands with boys now?“
“My son isn‘t a faggot, is that clear?“
“I gave you a place in this filthy town. You will appreciate it and live a proper life!“
“You will thank me when you don‘t burn for being dirty.“
It wasn‘t meant for Travis to answer because by the end of the night he would not even think about a boy‘s hand to be soft and warm anymore.
Travis was older now but he never found enough of anything to mend the damage his father did that night. Travis didn‘t try to explain that he held onto the boy because they figured that they wouldn’t slip on the wet mud that way. Instead he kept quiet about it ever happening and his father was content with this as long as he pulled his son from the devil‘s path to sodomy.
And Travis thought so too until a thread of blue fabric pulled together a gaping hole in his fabric. It stuck out like a sore thumb - too vibrant but warmer than any patch his mother gave to him and when he sat on the grimy bathroom floor in school after Sal Fisher of all people gave him a fucking pep talk, it felt nice. The warmth let his tears evaporate so he could pull himself together for the rest of the day.
But it was short lived. The warmth spread through him so fast he felt like burning up whenever he sat in class with Sal. He tried everything to get that blue thread out of his life but pulling on it only felt like strangling himself and he regretted ever letting his bully persona slip in that bathroom just because Sal fucking Fisher found the note he threw away - the note that was about him but Travis never had it in himself to tell him that. He regretted his promise to be less of an asshole because he knew he couldn‘t. Not even three days later the heat in his belly was so hot that he boiled over when he saw Fisher talking to that ginger nerd by the lockers. He ended up calling him a faggot because how dare he be openly gay in the same town Kenneth Phelps lived? How dare he be happy like this?
Sal tensed at the insult. Did he actually think Travis could be better? And why was his freakshow friend not hurt at the insult when it still burned in his throat to say it? Why did it feel like the slur wasn‘t meant for Todd at all? Travis swallowed hard as he fled the hallway in such a hurry that the three folded up pamphlets in his barely zipped up backpack fell on the muddy vinyl flooring.
“Fuck, Phleps. Just wait. Travis!“ The boy in question tucked at his collar as he turned a corner just to slip into another empty corridor. They had a free period right after gym class and Sal Fisher was determined to finally talk to the boy who relentlessly bullied him to now avoid him like it was the other way around. “Jesus, I‘m not gonna pry but if your dad-“ Sally harshly bumped into Travis as he whipped around, finally coming to a stop. Shame crawled up the taller teen‘s neck when he didn‘t find the prosthetic nose digging into his sweater uncomfortable.
“Shut up! God, just stop!“ Sal was surprised that he would use his Lord‘s name in vain like that and if the situation was anything but this he would‘ve laughed. “Travis, I don‘t know how you feel but-“, Sal tried again but Travis was at his limits this time. “You don‘t and you never will, Fisher. Your dad would accept you being a dirty faggot but mine doesn’t!“ He tried to fill his words with venom but it all bounced back on the guy‘s mask anyway with how much his voice actually trembled.
There was a moment of silence that made Travis want to literally get struck by his God‘s angry lightning. He couldn‘t even leave. It was like all the root his father dug out slowly crawled back to feed on his shame and ground him in front of Sal who still had to react and maybe Travis should just tell him to fuck off so he wouldn‘t have to find out what he wanted to say next.
“Travis...“ Sal lowered his voice in a fake moment of privacy. “Are you-?“ Travis already shut his eyes as he clenched his fists. He didn‘t like where this was going but there was no more fight in him. “Nevermind. You don‘t owe me shit but I saw your back.“ Travis exhaled through his mouth until there was nothing left in his lungs. He knew where that question was headed. Are you gay, Travis? Are you the faggot and that‘s why you‘re so angry? He was glad that Sal changed his approach because even Travis himself was too scared to find the answer.
“So what, Sally Face? You‘re sticking your nose somewhere it doesn’t belong. If you even have one under that stupid mask.“ Travis harshly pushed his index finger into the boys chest and the sharp inhale he made almost made him freeze up and apologize. But he couldn‘t. He was too deep to go soft now. The look in Sal‘s eyes was enough to make Travis finally stumble backwards and push past him.
He didn‘t follow him this time.
His verbal fights with Sal Fisher were like a damn wake up call for the teen. The rush of warmth it spread in his chest and the cold shiver in sent down his spine were shaking his body every time. He started noticing that Nockfell wasn‘t that murky. Travis used to really like yellow as a child because it reminded him of his mother’s favorite sunflower dress. She was a different woman now. The vibrant yellow was fading just like her hair. Maybe it was just Nockfell, maybe it was because of her suffocating husband draining her of her life and slowly unraveling her fabric. It didn‘t matter now but to make a depressing story short, Travis didn‘t have a favorite color anymore.
But the sky looked like a pretty shade of blue on some days. He never noticed but his bathroom tiles had blue specks in them. He always thought they were just a weird grey. There were tiny flowers blooming in the most vibrant blue behind the school and he wished that they were behind the church too but nothing ever grew around that building. But he would pluck them sometimes when he was skipping gym class. His last fight in the empty hallway was weeks ago and he hoped that Sal finally gave up on his savior complex. But why did his chest sting at that thought? His fingers slowly clutched his sweater as he stared at a withering flower by his foot. Travis jumped out of his thoughts when the metal door creaked open.
“Yo.“ Sal pushed the door closed with his shoe as he held up a hand to casually greet him. His face scrunched up. “What do you want?“ Travis lowered his head again. The boy obviously noticed the fresh shiner on his face already but facing him still felt like he exposed himself. “Just wanted to confirm that the church boy was skipping class.“ Uninvited, the teen sat beside Travis on the grass, with a healthy distance of course. “Shut up. My faith has fuck all to do with school“, Travis spoke lowly but his voice was tired. Sal just hummed in agreement before silence draped over them. Not uncomfortably like the usual strained void of reactions when one of them dropped something they weren‘t prepared for. It felt ok like this and it felt like a blanket. To Travis that blanket was soft and blue but before he could shake it off and stand up there were strings of the obnoxious fabric already weaving themself into his personal space.
“We don‘t have to fight all the time.“ Sal didn‘t look at him and neither did Travis. He really didn‘t have a reason to disagree. Not one that wouldn’t blow his cover at least.
“Maybe I could come to your little church and-“ Travis head snapped up. “Don‘t“, he blurted out a little louder than he meant. “It‘s a joke. I‘m not religious.“ Sal snorted, plucking a few pieces of grass. “Yeah, because you‘re a sinner in the eyes of the Lord. You f-“ Travis had to physically stop himself by biting his lip. Sal looked over at him and Travis wished he didn‘t. “Sorry“, Travis mumbled, refusing to meet his eyes, or eye since he was pretty sure his other eye never moved before. “I‘m trying to not call people that anymore.“ because all I hear is my father saying it.
“It‘s cool.“ It wasn‘t. “Why are you skipping?“ Travis huffed. It was weird to not let the conversation derail into verbal abuse. “I don‘t know. I fell. Hit my head on the door pretty bad. As you can see.“ Sal just hummed. “That‘s why you‘re limping, too?“ Travis blurted out a “yes“ a little too fast. Why was he nervous? His whole school life already revolved around cover up stories about the strange aches and bruises he got out of nowhere.
“Right.“ Sal let it slide, again. “You‘re acing algebra, Fisher.“ It wasn‘t a question so Sal didn‘t say anything. “Hmm.“ Travis cursed himself for never learning proper social skills but his father didn‘t like him bringing strangers into the house and his teen years were a constant feeling of push and pull of picking fights with boys that sparked an ugly tingle in his belly.
“You need a tutor?“ The silence seemed to be enough for Sal. Fuck him and his open fucking hand. “Maybe.“ Travis flicked a flower with his finger, dismissing the clear offer because his stomach ignited at the fact that Sal didn‘t hate him enough yet. “Maybe there is a tutor in Addisons Appartement, Room 402, who‘s free on the weekend.“ Sal couldn‘t help but smile under his mask as Travis huffed. “Fuck you, Fisher.“
Sal already forgot about his offer when lunch passed and his dad stood in the kitchen, washing their dishes, enjoying the background noise of his son watching TV with his cat. They were so engrossed in the VHS tape Sal put on that he didn‘t hear the door until his dad whistled from the kitchen. “Sally, door.“
“Huh? Oh. Yes, dad.“ He jumped to his feet, leaving Gizmo to the slasher movie he seemed to like. “Weird, Larry said he‘s busy“, Sal mumbled, opening the front door. “Oh.“ It was a knee jerk reaction from Sal because he expected everyone but Travis Phelps to knock at his door and truth be told, he looked like he‘d rather be anywhere else with the way his awkward greeting caught in his throat and died on his tongue as a huff. His eyes followed the way the blue strands hung over Sal‘s shoulders, the mask straps upsetting the smooth texture as a few chunks hung over the elastics. Travis hasn’t seen him with his hair down. He looked smaller in big sweatpants and a band shirt too.
“Travis?“ The boy‘s eyes snapped back to the mask in front of him. “So, algebra?“ Sal tilted his head a smidge. A small habit he picked up to better communicate what would otherwise be shown in his facial features. But it made Travis want to scream for a multitude of reasons as heat crept up his neck. “Obviously.“
Anyone else would‘ve told him to fix his tone or fuck off but Sal held open the door for him. It felt wrong but Travis took the invitation, rubbing his clammy hands on his pants. “Who is it?“, a deeper voice called and Travis almost jumped. He had to remind him this wasn‘t Kenneth. Mr Fisher wasn’t anything like his dad and he didn’t have to be on edge around the boy. “A friend“, Sal replied shortly, only getting an approving hum.
A friend. Did Sal see him as a friend? He couldn‘t dwell on it since he was pulled into the boy‘s bedroom that looked nothing like his. “Just sit anywhere.“ Sal wildly gestured into the room and Travis sat on the barely made bed as Sall dropped his books next to him.
Travis felt like there was something breathing down his neck the entire time they sat on Sal‘s bed. His shirt collar felt like it was about to cinch his neck closed, the dangling cross necklace he kept under his shirt felt hot to the touch like it burned the shape of Jesus into his chest with every sinful thought that crossed his mind as Sal explained the most bland and unerotic subject.
“Travis?“ The boy almost choked on his own spit.
“Romans 1:26-27.“ Travis stumbled over his own words but the verse was engraved into his head after writing and reciting it for a month straight under the stern eye of his father. There was a briefe silence for a moment.
“What?“ Sal looked up from the book in his lap.
“What?“ Travis felt breathless as he stared back at Sal. “Nothing“, he quickly added before Sal could even say anything else. “Explain that again?“ But he didn‘t. Instead, Sal pushed the book off his thigh, still staring the boy down. “Did you really come here for algebra, dude?“ No. “Yes.“ Travis fiddled with the hem of his shirt, not knowing if it was anxiety, anger or just bile scratching against his stomach lining to crawl out of him.
When Sal didn‘t say anything else Travis just reached over the boys lap to take the book himself but there was already a hand pressing against his shoulder. Travis hissed as he pulled his arm back, making Sal pull back just as fast. They stared at each other for a moment before Sal‘s gaze darted to his shoulder. “You fell pretty hard on that door.“ Travis clenched his jaw. “Shut up, Fisher, and back the fuck up.“
The boy shook his head, scooting away an inch. “Listen, you can say no because I would too but I can at least get you ointment for that.“ Sal gestured to his back and shoulder and something in Travis just crumbles as he lets his hands drop into his lap, staring them down to not look at Sal. “Ok. If it gets you off my back you parasite.“
Travis didn‘t plan this when he knocked on the apartment door. He expected to maybe stay 20 minutes before something would make him see red but all he saw was blue. Maybe he was cursed. All these years of plucking out the roots his father couldn’t reach were rendered worthless now that he sat on the rough carpet, holding his shirt up as Sal dug out the ointment.
How did he even get here? His heart beat in his throat when he felt a presence behind him. He felt the need to say something. He wanted to make it clear that this meant nothing to not make it weird but wouldn‘t that make it weirder? Wasn‘t this the same as his mother putting a bandaid on his cuts and whatever herbal mixture on his wounds? It wasn’t because he never felt the sick urge to kiss his mother.
“Ready?“, Sal asked, kneeling behind him with a glob of cool ointment on his index and middle finger. Fucking hell, why did he have to make it weird? He definitely had to say something now.
“It was my dad.“ Travis spoke fast enough to mutter his words but the long pause probably meant that Sal heard him anyway. He wanted to melt into the carpet, leave behind a stain on the boy‘s floor to annoy him just one last time. He didn‘t know what he expected him to say to that and he also didn‘t know why that was the thing he had to say. But Sal made it easy on him by just not answering at all. Instead, he dabbed the cream on the first bruise, making Travis inhale sharply but otherwise biting his tongue. Sal figured that Travis wanted to act tough by not showing that it hurt but actually, Travis didn‘t trust his voice under Sal‘s soft fingertips.
“Travis“, Sal spoke again. Travis wasn‘t sure if he hated the heavy silence more of the fact that Sal was the first to say something while he was rubbing little circles into his back. He didn‘t answer but that never held Sal back.
“Are you gay?“ His voice was so quiet that Travis wouldn‘t have heard it if they sat a little further apart but it had the same effect as screaming it for all of Nockfell to hear. Sal felt him tense up under his touch, already expecting him to jump up or at least yell at him. But neither of them did anything. Sal‘s fingers rested against the heating skin, feeling it rise with every ragged breath he managed to take. “Travis-“
“Fuck, Sal. What? Do you want me to tell you about the times my dad beat the gay out of me or do you prefer that time I wanted to kiss you in that gross fucking bathroom?“, the teen finally barked, letting his words sink in first before he hissed a quiet “shit“. The fingers on his back pulled away as Sal sat on his heels. “You wanted to kiss me?“, Sal repeated, slower than Travis but he just pressed the balls of his hands into his eyes until he saw shapes and felt like the pressure would crush his face. He heard Sal shuffle around the room, probably getting ready to throw him out like he should‘ve done a while ago. But the shuffling stopped in front of him and something told him not to look but cold hands were already on his wrists to peel his cramping hands from his face. Travis opened his eyes just in time to see that mask uncomfortably close but before he could say anything, there was an odd sensation on his lips with minimal pressure. Sal was kissing him and it snuffed the flame in his stomach for just a moment, allowing the torched butterflies to unfold their wings and fly high enough to even make his heart pump overtime. But the feeling was lost just as soon when Sal inched backwards, pulling his prosthetic back in place before Travis could even take any of this in.
“Sorry.“ Sal threw it into the room for Travis to interpret. But the gears in his head threatened to jump out of place already so he reached out to Sal who already flinched backwards, holding onto his mask. “You don‘t want that.“ Sal pushed his hand back a little. “How would you know?“ Travis furrowed his brows at him but he was thankful. He wasn‘t sure if he could take seeing the boy bare like that but he was craving that feeling his father tried to snuff so desperately.
Sal just shook his head as Travis inched closer. “I‘ll close my eyes.“ Now it was Sal‘s turn to hole up in silence, knowing that neither of them could handle the mask coming off. Something made him trust Travis‘ words as he opened the bottom clasp which was the cue for Travis to shut his eyes. He did and seconds later he felt Sal on him again. One hand clamping over his eyes just to make sure and the other fisting the front of his shirt.
This time Travis felt the cleft in Sal‘s lip and the scar tissue ripping up the soft skin. He leaned into the kiss. Where were his hands supposed to go? When Travis didn‘t find the answer his body moved on autopilot. One hand threaded through the surprisingly smooth strands as the other clung to the small of his back.
Travis should‘ve been grossed out by the drool pooling out of Sal‘s torn lip but he wasn‘t. He should be grossed out by Sal being a boy but he wasn‘t. When Sal pulled back he kept his hand over Travis‘ eyes while the other wiped the spit off his chin. The kiss alone was enough to patch up his murky fabric with bright blue strings that dominated the colors his father painted him in. Travis didn‘t know what would happen after high school. Hell, he didn‘t even know what would be tomorrow. But he didn‘t want the bright fibers to unravel him again.
A knock on the door startled both of them, making Sal pull his arm away and Travis rapidly blinking. He didn‘t notice the mangled face first as the unruly blue caught his eye. His hand did that. His heart beat in his throat again as he overheard Sal‘s father say something and Sal shooting a hum of agreement back. His prosthetic was already on his face again before Travis could catch anything besides the scar tissue crawling up his jaw and chin before splitting his lips and exposing teeth and gum.
Maybe blue was his favorite color.
#tw toxic family#tw abuse#tw religious trauma#tw slurs#sally face#travis phelps#sal fisher#travis phelps x sal fisher#travis phelps x sally face
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Hey guys! I asked for people to send me some prompts my way and as promised I took the first two and wrote an Inu/Kag one shot.
The two winning prompts were:
“They're such an idiot. My idiot but still.”
& “Nothing else matters except for you."
Thank you to @ruddcatha and @smmahamazing for the prompts!
So this came from an idea I have for a fic. This ‘one shot’ will eventually be developed into a full fic. This one shot is from further into the story. The feelings, relationships and such are established by this point. (Warnings:) There is also some violence and brief references to torture.
Read below the cut:
Inuyasha pushed through the doors to the lab, carefully taking in the small group standing huddled together, talking in hushed whispers. Shippo was the first to notice him approaching, shushing the others before pointing over their shoulders towards him. The other two turned in unison as Inuyasha came to a stop in front of the group, hands on hips.
“Tell me you guys have managed to connect the bomb to Sandusky Shipping?” He asked in his rough, impatient tone.
Miroku, Sango, and Shippo stood gaping at him. “Well uhh actua-”
Miroku elbowed Shippo in the side. “Kagome still wasn’t exactly sure that the bomb is connected to them, she thinks that the bomb might have been moved somehow from its original place to make it seem like it was the shipping company.”
“Ooook. Why does she think that? Is she still testing things?” He held up a hand to stop them from speaking as they all opened their mouths to speak at once. “Nevermind. I’ll ask her, where is she?”
Shippo and Miroku shared a wide eyed look before taking a step away from him, trying to gain some distance, leaving only Sango standing directly in front of him.
Sango glared back at them before turning back. “Inuyasha, that’s what we were talking about when you came in. We found some unusual trace elements in the samples brought back for us, and… well Kagome wasn’t sure if they originated in the bomb or are just from the terrain when the explosion happened. She said she needed a ground sample from the site, outside of the explosion area.”
“Ok.” Inuyasha sighed, glancing at his watch. “When do you think she’ll be back? Kouga and I really need to move forward with this.”
“Here’s the thing.” Sango started nervously. “She went last night.” Inuyasha looked back to her, frowning. “The records show that she never came back to the lab and she wasn’t at her place this morning when I went to pick her up. We all figured she maybe just decided to go home and grab the samples this morning but… She should’ve been here three hours ago and she’s not picking up her cell.”
Pulling out his own phone, Inuyasha tapped Kagome’s name on his screen. The call connected directly to her voicemail. “Kagome.” He spoke in a low dangerous tone. “Call me. Now.” He growled before ending the connection. Inuyasha stood there, jaw tightly clenched, seething. He turned to leave, stopping at the doorway. He let out an aggravated shout a moment before he punched the wall beside the door, his fist leaving a hole in the drywall. “Whichever of you is capable of collecting a sample, meet me by my office in ten minutes.” He exited through the lab doors, hands tightly balled into fists.
Sango turned back to the other two to find them with their hands raised in position for Rock, Paper, Scissors. “Nope.” She said, before striding away.
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“I am never letting you drive again. What the fuck, Inuyasha? You’re going to kill us.” Kouga growled, grabbing the roof handle as Inuyasha swerved around another car ‘going too slow’.
Inuyasha grumbled something under his breath, turning down the road leading to the warehouse district.
“He’s right, I’d rather not die before I can legally drink.” Shippo mumbled from the back seat.
Inuyasha pulled up next to where Kagome’s sapphire blue Hyundai Elantra was parked next to the active crime scene tape. He had barely put the SUV in park before he jumped out. He threw open Kagome’s driver’s side door, picking up her phone that lay on the seat.
“Her phone’s dead.” He said turning to Kouga as he pocketed the object.
Shippo pointed at the east end of the warehouse. “She would have wanted to collect a sample from as close to the edge of the blast site as possible.”
“Kagome!” Inuyasha shouted as they ducked under the tape, walking towards the spot Shippo indicated. “Kagome!” He heaved a sigh.
“Guys…” Shippo said quietly, pointing to a spot near the tall grass.
Kagome’s large black collection box lay turned over, contents scattered. Inuyasha dropped his head into one of his hands, shaking it. Kouga carefully stepped through the tall trampled grass, scanning the ground. He crouched down, inspecting something.
“Inuyasha. Come look at this.”
Inuyasha knelt down beside him. When he saw Kagome’s issued firearm his stomach dropped.
“Look here.” Kouga pointed to the butt of the grip. “Is that blood?”
Inuyasha nodded. “Looks like it.”
“Why would she come out here alone? Especially when it was getting dark.”
Inuyasha growled slightly. “Cause she’s an idiot.” He rubbed his hand over his face in exasperation. “My idiot, but still.” He grumbled before standing, pulling his phone from his pocket and calling it in.
Why is this happening after we finally agreed to give things between us a shot? Dammit, Kagome, you better be ok.
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“Inuyasha!” Sango came sprinting into his office, huffing for breath. She handed him a file. “Kaede got those results on the blood from Kagome’s gun.”
Inuyasha cracked open the file, studying the contents for a long moment.
“It wasn’t her blood. She fought back, she’s still alive, Inuyasha.” Sango spoke quietly reaching across his desk and resting a hand over one of his.
“We don’t know that for sure. But she damn well better be.” He snapped the file closed, covering his eyes with his hands. “Why didn’t she just ask me to go with her?”
“Inuyasha.” Sango said gently. “As much as Kagome likes working with you. She isn’t likely to want to interrupt when you’re arguing with your ex in your office.”
Inuyasha sighed. “I gotta make a call about these results. Hopefully we’ll be able to find out where she is.”
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“Alright everyone, the blood we found on Dr. Higurashi’s firearm was from Johnny Marrow. Been in prison a few times, but mostly his cases almost never make it to trial. Some crimes include criminal possession of a controlled substance, evidence tampering, but most importantly several cases of assault, and he was suspected of several murders but we never had enough evidence to convict. We had an informant report Marrow conducting suspicious activity near the port. Now, if he doesn’t have the doctor, he should know where she is. Marrow is to be taken alive.” Inuyasha instructed the three HRT agents in the van as he strapped on his vest.
“That’s one of Darren Montana’s men right? Scummy, clean up, loose ends man?” Kouga questioned.
“Yeah.” Inuyasha said quietly as he sat down next to him, checking over his MP5SD6.
“Don’t worry man. She’ll be in there.” Kouga said, clasping him on the shoulder as the van jerked to a stop and the back doors swung open. “Let me take point. If we find her, you just focus on getting her out.”
Inuyasha nodded, following him out of the van. As the five agents gathered together to finish coordinating, the driver ran over to them.
“Thermal scanners indicate there are a dozen people inside. There’s a cluster of five on the west end. Three on the second level. One near both doors, and another doing patrols. Then the last one is isolated near the five on the west side.” He reported.
“Thanks, Luke.” Kouga said, turning back to the group.
“Should’ve brought more men.” Inuyasha groaned to himself.
“Alright guys.” Kouga started.
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Kagome jerked awake at the sound of gunfire. She yanked on her restraints, tears pouring down her face as the blistered wounds circling her wrists began bleeding, and her dislocated shoulder screamed at her. She failed to shake the matted, blood-caked hair from her face as she watched the door intently. Her vision swam, head throbbing, as the continued sound of gunfire seemed to echo in her ears. The dirty cloth rag pulled tightly at the corners of her mouth; her mouth and throat dry and raw.
She wasn’t sure how much time had passed as she sat, tense, tied to the chair before the door swung open. She blinked squinted eyes at the bright light before she was able to make out a tall figure standing in the doorway, swinging a gun from side to side, scanning the room. When the figure lowered their weapon and kneeled beside her chair, she was finally able to recognize Inuyasha.
Tears of relief rather than pain began to flow as he gently pulled the gag from her mouth. He hesitated for a moment as his stern set face took her in. The bruises on her face already had different shades of blue and purple, and the dried blood down one side of her face indicated a head wound. His eyes turned soft before he moved behind the chair. As he cut the ropes he tried not to take in her blood soaked hands. She slumped forward, almost falling as the ropes fell free.
“Come on, Kagome.” He whispered to her, moving to scoop her up.
She let out a high pitched whimper as her limp arm was jostled, dangling uselessly at her side. Wrapping her good arm around his neck, she buried her face in his neck.
“Inuyasha.” She sobbed.
As he carried her from the room she noticed another agent had been guarding the door. Inuyasha followed close behind him, eyes scanning as they went. She closed her eyes firmly against the sunlight when they exited the building; hearing more shots coming from the second floor. Inuyasha carried her to the back of the van they arrived in, gently setting her down on a seat inside.
“Ambulance is on it’s way.” The other agent, Kagome thought his name was Evan, said to Inuyasha before turning and speaking into his radio.
Inuyasha knelt in front of her again, taking her face tenderly in his hands. “Are you ok?” He questioned softly.
“Yes.” She whispered but shook her head.
“Your shoulder.” He moved to take her arm as if he was going to pop it back into place but she pulled away from him.
“No.” Her voice was hoarse. “It’s really swollen, just leave it. She leaned her head back, closing her eyes again. “How did you find me?”
“Your gun.” He said simply, and she nodded.
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Inuyasha waited impatiently outside of Kagome’s hospital room. Almost an hour had passed before Totosai finally emerged, closing the door behind himself. He frowned, shaking his head as he approached Inuyasha.
“That took a while.”
“Yes well, when an agent is kidnapped and tortured, there’s a lot more questions to ask. She’ll have to fill out an official report when she’s out of here but it’ll do for now.” Totosai raised a brow at him. “You sent Kouga without you?”
“I’d rather be here. How bad was it?” Inuyasha questioned.
Totosai sighed. “They were trying to find out what and how much we know. They’re scared we’re getting close. I believe her when she says she didn’t give anything up, I don’t think she’d still be alive if she’d talked. I think they were just getting started on her though, if you hadn’t found her when you did…” he shook his head again, glancing at his shoes briefly. “They’d started pulling fingernails, Inuyasha.” He said delicately before patting him on the shoulder and walking away.
Inuyasha closed his eyes, trying to compose himself before heading into her room. He drank in the sight of her as he shut the door. He took in the small bandage on the side of her head, the sling on her arm, her wrapped wrists and her bandaged fingers. The majority of her face was covered in deep purple bruises and the corners of her mouth looked split.
Her eyes cracked open, a small smile gracing her lips. “Hey.” She called out weakly.
“Hey.” He replied back softly, approaching her bed.
“What are you doing here? I thought they finished the tests at the lab, confirming that Montana’s group planted that bomb. You were supposed to be making that arrest on Montana today.”
“Kouga’s going.”
“We all know that you should be the one making that arrest.” She said firmly to him.
He rested a hand on her bed, leaning down, bringing his face close to hers. His breath warm on her face, Kagome caught a whiff of his spicy cologne. “Nothing else matters, except for you.”
She sucked in a breath, heart racing. Her chocolate eyes studied the greyish depths of his violet ones. He leaned in closer, stopping when he was a hair’s width away, pausing for a moment to see if she would object. When she didn’t he placed a brief tender kiss to her lips.
He smiled at her grin. “I think you should let me take you to dinner when you get out of here.” When she nodded he held up a finger. “Actually. How about I’ll take you to dinner if you agree to not go back to crime scenes alone.”
She laughed. “Deal.”
@ruddcatha @lavendertwilight89 @cstormsinukagblog @clearwillow @witchygirl99 @dangerouspompadour @pinkpigeonstudio @superpixie42 @smmahamazing @bluejay785 @zelink-inukag @liz8080 @rootpatterson @umacaking @zelico
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John (11 x reader) Part 1
Summary: The doctor was being tracked. So he decided to become John to blend into a small town. It would only be 6 months he said. Word count: 3.4k Warnings: violence mention and knives and angst AN: Hi! First fic ever uploaded to tumblr so I’m excited. Hopefully this is good and isn’t too long. Part 2 and 3 should be up soon. Hope you like it!! Also I wrote the reader as female in this so sorry, I’m going to try to be more inclusive in later fics :,)
It had been 2 years, 3 months and 16 days since you’d all arrived in the 1920s, in a quaint little village in the south. You had also been told it would be a maximum of 6 months you would spend here, and boy, how the Doctor was wrong. He was being hunted, by a species that wanted to harvest timelord energy so they could learn to regenerate. So he’d picked a random village and a random time period, given you all jobs, and rewritten his own biology in an attempt to stay safe.
“I’m going undercover as a human, I’m rewriting my genetic code to stay safe, everything non-human about me will be held in this watch, and hidden somewhere linked to me, there will be another fake one hidden with me or on the TARDIS. I won’t recognise it, I’ll barely acknowledge it, or just enough to the point where fake me won’t think there’s anything off about it.” He explained slotting the watch into a rather aggressive looking head contraption, and throwing a device at Amy “I’m becoming John Smith, a history teacher at a local grammar school, Amy and Rory, your job is to track the thing, it has a unique energy signature with that device. Rory you work in the local hospital and Amy you work in a shop. (Y/N), your job is to keep an eye out for me, make sure John doesn’t do anything ridiculous, or fall in love or in a deep hole he can’t get out of. You’re the secretary at the grammar school,”
You cringed at memories as you sat in bed. Thinking over the last 2 years and everything that had happened since, it was all a distant memory now.
“The TARDIS will be in an emergency state if you need her. I won’t know you or remember you. It’s to keep you safe and for your own good. It’ll be six months, at maximum, nothing to worry about, Ponds, (L/N),” he smiled cautiously as he put the device on his head. The thing connected as he screamed, and shook, the agony in face unbearable.
Eventually, you decided you had to get up so you didn’t lose your job, you put on a dress, strapped a cautionary knife to your leg for protection along with the sonic screwdriver so you knew it wouldn’t fall into the wrong hands or just in case the thing decided to attack today. You walked to the school. The village was fairly spread out but with limited people, less than 1000 people, everyone knew at least something about everyone apart from the few of you that had been welcomed two years prior. God how you missed Uber, and being able to go on regular runs without judgement.
When you arrived you stored your coat and bag in a storage room, making polite conversation with your coworkers in your office. John wandered in and smiled at you. “Hello, Miss (L/N), how are you doing today?” He was more posh in this version of himself, he sounded southern and as if he had been educated at the grammar school years prior.
“I’m very well, sir, just a little tired today. How about yourself?” You had also taken this time as an opportunity to sound more from the time period, to blend in and look more authentic compared to your back story that was full of holes.
“Good good, sounds like you need more sleep-” He paused upon realising the implications of his words “I- I didn’t mean anything like that, I meant perhaps-” He was like this a lot, he stumbled over himself. Not as confident as the doctor in far too many areas. “Nevermind, Mr Smith, I knew what you meant. What did you come in here for?” you lips pursed together, when he had his memories back you were going to slap him so painfully hard he’d regenerate. He may have had the doctor’s face however, he was not him. Maybe this version of the doctor had taken a liking to you, more than the actual Doctor ever would. You had to stick close to him so you allowed it, although it was painful at points seeing a man you had fallen in love with, finally acknowledge your existence as someone else.
“I needed to check the staff file and I just wanted to chat with you.” So you talked for a while.
The school day went by relatively smoothly apart from a student vomiting in the hallway, and two students almost getting into a fight, everything seemed standard, as the previous 837 days had. Nothing new. Nothing out of the ordinary.
The village was small and were grateful for that, all the shops were local and the furthest house was a 45 minute walk away. Ultimately, you had decided to visit Amy and Rory as you did most nights as they understood the pain you were going through, trapped away from your time period without your family, and closest friend, whilst also being tracked by an alien.
“-and then he looked at me and said I needed to get more sleep,” You said between sips of wine and painful laughs
“I can’t believe he struggles with social interaction more as an actual human rather than a timelord,” Amy laughed, this was the tradition, when Rory was working the nightshift, one of you would visit the other, and you’d laugh and drink together.
“At least you get to see him consistently,” Amy added, “We barely do. Rory sees him maybe once every few weeks down at the pub, and I see him when he comes into the shop or at the hall. You at least consistently know he’s safe and happy,”
“Yeah but it’s not exactly him is it. It’s like you see a picture of someone before you know them, like you can acknowledge it’s them but they’re just missing the odd piece to them, like the smile isn’t quite wide enough or their hair is parted differently. It’s a version of him, without him. Without the timelordy, alieny bits,”
“Maybe so, but it’s something, and we don’t have a lot else right now,”
“God, I can’t wait to wear pants and jeans when we get back to our time,” You said standing and embracing Amy in a warm hug “I need to go home and get some sleep, long day tomorrow, my turn to check. Thanks for having me, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
When you had arrived home, that's when you saw him, a boy from the school outside your door, mindlessly staring through one of your windows.
“Edward Gray, dear? Are you alright? What are you doing here?” You asked panic rising quietly through you
Seemingly snapping out of his trance “Huh? Nothing Miss, I must’ve got a bit lost and confused, that’s all,” He said rubbing his temples, the expression he gave you didn’t reach his eyes, as if he was struggling to believe the words himself.
“You might want to get home, make sure your mother knows you're safe. We don’t want her up worrying all night now do we? Run along dear,” You said as you unlocked your house and he turned and ran.
You settled into bed for the night, pulling out a notebook and writing down bits from your previous adventures you could remember, it wasn’t for Amy and Rory you would've been doubting the validity of your stories and doubting that the alien had even existed at all, and wasn’t just a random man from your work who paid attention to you, smiled at your jokes, and whose eyes were full of mystery.
More dreams, more memories, more days. You woke up with a jump, your alarm surprising you. More morning rituals. Breakfast, check. Shower and brushed teeth, check. Dressed, check. Knife, check. Sonic, check. It was a friday so it was your turn to check the TARDIS. It was abandoned in a shed in one of the in one of the many fields surrounding the village that had long been forgotten. She wheezed slightly when you entered, a half asleep acknowledgment of someone else’s company.
“Hello dear, I’ve missed you too,” You said in response, a tinge of sadness in your voice, another sleep wheeze escaped from the console. You replayed the message the doctor had given you. He animatedly explained all the points, once again, like clockwork: village, 20s, hunted, six months, keep watch, pears, stay safe, teaching, secretary, shop, six months. Nothing had changed, you kept quietly wishing for the audio to alter, or the video to change, it never did. It was still the same video, and your alien bestfriend promised 6 months and nothing more.
Somehow, you had managed to arrive early to work. The majority of your colleagues had not yet arrived. In moments like this you had begun reading in classrooms, specifically, John’s. There was something comforting about it, perhaps it was the doctor’s energy. Quiet times like this helped usually, sometimes they made the situation worse, the silence was sometimes unbearable as thoughts of your future life rumbled around your head. You had positioned yourself near a window and pulled out a copy of the Great Gatsby. Whilst you were engrossed in your book, the door opened silently, John slipping in without you noticing
“Miss (L/N)? What are you doing here?” He whispered, his eyes staring deep into your soul, at times like this, he was almost the doctor. You jumped, the sudden noise surprising you
“Ah, sorry, John, dear. I was just reading, I had a bit of time before the day began,” You started
“It’s alright, no need to apologize. What are you reading?’
“Mr Fitzgerald’s new book, I have heard nothing but good things,”
“Ah, I prefer the classics, great expectations and such.” Even as a human he was still so much of the doctor.
You stood up suddenly “Anyway, I need to go. I have my duties to attend to.”
John rambled “Stay! If you want to- I mean- if you would like you can stay here and read, I don’t mind and I’m sure the others wouldn’t mind, I’ll convince them it was my idea. even though it was anyway,”
You considered it for a brief moment, you shook your head, “I can’t, I have particularly busy day,”
“At least let me walk you home tonight then, if you’re busy throughout the day. I enjoy your company,” he said with a wink and then he caught himself and looked shocked that he had actually just done that.
“Fine. I finish at 5. But you must know the neighbours will talk,” You said in attempt to deter him
“Oh, let them, this small town loves gossip,” John smiled in a very doctorish manner. You nodded slightly. A small smile graced your lips, a tinge of sadness in your eyes, you prayed he wouldn't notice as you turned to leave the room. You didn’t see him silently stick his hand out in an attempt to comfort you, over feelings he would have no concept of. John Smith and his small smiles and sweet talk would be the death of you. The Almost Doctor. So close yet, so far out of reach.
You had the trouble of organising staff schedules that week and planning and writing assemblies for other teachers, you didn’t mind though it kept you busy.
“(Y/N), did you hear Edward Gray hasn’t shown up today,” One of your colleagues Mrs. Price had said, she was elderly woman, her hair greying slightly, her glasses rested on a chain that was always around your neck
“That’s peculiar, he was outside my house last night,” You began as you explained to the other woman. She sat in an awkward silence afterwards.
“According to his mother, he did get home ok, he just came in this morning. Must’ve just decided he wanted to wander the woods for a break,” She said with a nervous laugh and you followed suit before going back to clicking away at your typewriter.
The day eventually ended at 5pm as you said a brief weekly farewell to the other office staff members before heading to the front of the building. John Smith was stood at the front he gave you a wide small and small wave that you returned
“Mr Smith,” You said with a smile as you approached him
“Miss (L/N).”
On the way home, you chatted about anything and everything, you trying to fix the holes in your double life story, and the chameleon arch filling in the gaps in his. You were simply two half strangers sharing half truths with one another. If the Doctor were actually here he’d laugh. Occasionally, neighbours would nod their heads towards you in acknowledgment, none of them stopping to talk. One neighbor seemed off, you believed his name was Mr Roscoe and he was an older man from the village. He made intense eye contact with you both before bumping into the doctor aggressively, squaring up to him.
“Timelord, your days will soon be up. We will have your secrets soon enough,” Roscoe hissed. Adrenaline pumped through your veins, you pulled the knife from your leg and pointed it at Mr Roscoe’s throat.
“Good, God Miss (L/N), where did you- what’s going on? Why do you have a knife?” John stammered the chameleon arch kicking into overdrive.
“Shut up,” You snapped, he opened his mouth to speak, he decided against it, then closed it again. You turned your attention back to the older gentleman, “Leave him be. He is not what you are after. This is your final warning, approach any of us again and this knife is going right in one of your vital organs. Clear? Or will I have to do it as a warning?” You snarled anger rising with each word edging the knife close to the man as you waved it for emphasis.
“Crystal,” The man replied, void of tone. Before turning and walking away sending a sharp glare in your direction as he wandered off
“Do you mind if we visit your house instead I have a phone call to make?” You asked the knife away, smiling and acting like nothing had occurred, slipping your arm back around John’s. John simply stammered in agreement, still not entirely grasping the intensity of the situation.
John’s house was rather large for him, he’d claimed it was far too big for one person and that he ought to let it out, but it was close to his job and he could afford it and that he also preferred his own company.
You waited until he left his kitchen to call Amy,
“Hello, this is Amelia Williams,” She chimed
“Red, wolf, now,” You said breathlessly, it was code, you had invented, between the three of you, if people were around that couldn’t know about the predicaments you faced, such as John you would use it. Red was danger, wolf was alien. She breathed a curse into the phone
“You’re safe, I presume, stay that way and with him, time to locate the pin and the needle,” more code, you simply said a quiet yet nervous ‘yes’ into the phone. The pin being the watch, the needle being a decoy.
“What about your job? 2 years, wolf tracking was up to you,” You hissed
“I’m sorry. I think the battery died long ago, we have no idea how to charge it even with the TARDIS. Plus, he never gave us an explanation of how to use it,” You mumbled a brief apology for hissing and hung up, after she had made sure you were fine, in the overly complex code, you former companions shared.
“What was that about?” John asked reentering the kitchen and breaking you from your thoughts holding some glasses, a bottle and packet of cigarettes. “Sorry, just a small code with a code with a friend, letting her know I’m safe and with a friend incase she gets worried or tries to visit,” You explained quickly
He smiled at that, maybe he had bought it, maybe not, “You’re so intelligent.” He breathed half to himself, half to you “Come on time for a smoke and a drink to calm us down after that, erm, experience,”
You sat next to eachother on one of the few steps that led to his garden. “So why do you carry a knife?” Was the first question out of his mouth after he’d poured drinks
“An old friend, he had some issues, told me to protect myself, I just felt I needed to make sure I was safe,” You replied simply, “And I hate guns, so a knife had to do,”
“In the 2 years I have known you, (Y/N), I’ve learnt very little about you, other than today.” He sighed
“You don’t need to know a lot, there’s not a lot I can tell you really, a fairly ordinary life,”
“Do you smoke?” He said offering you the box, with a smile you accepted one and lit it,
“Not often, we’ll have to share this one, I can’t handle full ones this late.” You passed it back to him “my friend wouldn’t approve so I try to not,”
“Well you have to make your own decisions,”
“He wouldn’t approve of you offering, I mean” You corrected “Also maybe not me accepting,”
“I need to tell you something,” He began, “I have these dreams- and they’re about the future and they involve you and that quiet couple from the village. We travel to other worlds and I’m from another planet and we try to save people. And it matches some of what Mr Roscoe had said. How crazy is that?”
Shit. You hadn’t considered dreams “Well ultimately dreams are the subconscious filling the space so I would imagine it is perfectly normal thing to dream. And as for Mr Roscoe, he’s a confused old man, I doubt he even realised what he said, John,” You laughed nervously, the chameleon arch had already started fixing the damage
“You can stay overnight, if you’d like I have a guest bedroom set up and some spare toiletries, just so you’re not worried about getting home. Mr Roscoe put the fear of God in us earlier and I wouldn’t like that to happen again, especially if you’re walking home” Even now, when he wasn’t himself, he was still unbelievably kind.
“Ok, then I’ll stay,” You nodded, you did not want another Edward Gray situation
“So this friend of yours. Would he approve of you staying the night? Does he approve of much? It certainly doesn’t seem it,”
“Perhaps he would. Maybe with you, maybe not, it's difficult to say. He doesn’t approve of much and yet many things. Kindness and eccentricity are two things he absolutely loves. He’s a good man, a kind man,” You tried to explain, taking the cig back “He’s a pacifist. And when he smiles the stars seem to align. We travel together. Or rather we used to before I settled here. I’m waiting for him to come back.”
“Oh are you and him-”
“Uh, no, absolutely not. I did see him like that, he did not see me that way. He has no reason to, he carries the stars with him and the world on his shoulders. He’s got enough to worry about without me,” you stated, a small tear slipping from your eyes, John wiped it away quickly , taking the cigarette back and finishing it
“I mean, perhaps he could, view you like that. If I were him and I know I could never be, I wouldn’t hesitate. You’re wonderful, kind and beautiful, intelligent and astonishingly brave,” John smiled “and if he can’t see that, I’m sure someone else will.”
The silence after his words was comfortable. You didn’t quite expect it. The ferocious love in his voice, the warmth and kindness. It seemed so disjointed from the normal, nervous and awkward John. You rested your head against him, a form of acceptance to his words. He wrapped his long since abandoned jacket around you, along with his arm, trying to shield you from the cold. The drinks had been finished a while, and cigarettes long since burned to ash. You stayed that way for a while, at least in that hidden moment you could pretend it was him and that things weren’t about to turn terrible. At least you had now and the steps in his garden long after dark.
PART 2
#doctor who x reader#doctor who x you#11th doctor#11th doctor x reader#11th doctor x you#eleven x reader#Eleventh doctor x reader#self insert fanfiction#self insert#self insert doctor who#hope this is ok :)#Doctor who#doctor who fanfic#doctor who fanfiction
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[[Part 4 of ???]]
Stuck with you
//Baozhai and Islay walked through the jungle. Islay cutting down leaves in their way with her sword.//
Baozhai, looking at the map: You think we'll find any skeletons through here??
Islay: How should I know? I Never heard of this place before.
Baozhai: Oh well, then allow me to tell you about this place!
Islay: please don't-
Baozhai: The Paititi was a civilization that were known for having tons of gold and practically living in it everday! Everything they had was made out of gold. Bowls, statues, and even clothing! Isn't that amazing to know??? Then one day the the civilization just disappeared! As well as the gold items and riches they had. Once outsiders arrived, all they found were statues and the abandoned villages. The weirdest thing they found was murals, depicting where they supposedly hid their treasure...
Islay:
Islay: How do you know all that? I thought you were supposed to be stupid or something.
Baozhai: Oh Ironbeard told me- HEY! I'm not dumb! I have the intelligence of a highschooler thank you very much! >:(((
Islay: Yeah, yeah whatever you say.
Baozhai, still angry: I could literally wire your mouth shut if you said that in front of a crowd of people..!
Islay, stop walking and turns to Baozhai: Baozhai, let me get one thing straight with you. I don't care for your threats and I'm not afraid of you. Everyone else on the ship might cower in fear when you brutalize someone but I've seen other pirates with less anger issues do worse. You're just a temperamental brat who gets offended at the slightest comment that criticizes you. Now all I want to do is get this treasure, leave, and ignore the fact that you still exist... You think you can manage shutting your mouth for once?
Baozhai:
Baozhai, pouts: fine I'll be quiet but I won't be happy about it >:(
Islay, rolls her eyes: Just make sure you don't loose the map.
//Islay took a few steps forward. She pushed some giant leaves out of the way. In front of them was a stone path with strange runes drawn on them. Baozhai looked at the map. She took a step forward and put her pressed her foot down on the path. Immediately, arrows came flying out from the walls. Baozhai quickly backed away before one of the arrows could pierce her.//
Islay: The classic arrows coming out of walls and trying to figure out the correct pattern on the floor... How cliche.
Baozhai: Good thing this map shows you how to cross.
//Just as the two were about to cross, a gunshot fired near their feet. The two women jumped back. A few feet from the left of them, stood Flint and Billy. Flint had the gun pointed towards the women.//
Flint: Not so fast ya' harlots.. give us that their map and we'll let ye both walk free..
Islay: Fuck off mate! This is our map and we're getting to that treasure!
Bones: Islay, we all know where this is going. Ye really want to risk a limb over that map?
Islay, holding her sword towards them: I'd rather die for it then let ye rats have it!
//She rushes towards the two. Unfortunately, she was taken down by Billy with a swift kick to the stomach. Billy put himself on top of her, putting her arms behind her back. Preventing her to do anything else harmful.//
Islay, struggling underneath Billy: Doesn't matter! My accomplice will tear you both apart!!
Flint: Well then I guess we'll have have pry it from their cold dead han-
Baozhai, hands him the map: Here you go :)
//Flint, Bones, and Islay all stand there completely stunned for a few seconds. Islay stared at Baozhai with her mouth gaping. Flint snatches the map out of Baozhai's hand.//
Flint: Seems like yer accomplice is more accommodating than ye..
Baozhai, hugs Flint tightly: you're so handsome..
//Flint stared, unamusedly at the small woman. He tried gentle pushing her off of him. But alas, Baozhai stuck to him like glue. Flint attempted to shove her off but still she stuck onto him. With all his strength, he tried to shove her off.//
Flint: LET GO OF ME!
Baozhai: 💕
//Flint grabbed Baozhai by her shoulders. He put his foot up against her, trying to pry her off of him. Fortunately, he managed to get her off of him.//
Baozhai: sorry... Couldn't help myself from wrapping my arms around your big, beefy, frame~
Flint, obviously disgusted: ...
Flint: tie em' both up Billy..
//Billy nods as he takes out some rope. A few minutes later the two women are tied, back to back to each other. Flint and Billy leave them behind as they successfully cross the booby trap.//
Islay, eye twitching angry: I cannot ... BELIEVE YOU HANDED OVER THE FUCKING MAP! WHY THE HELL DID YOU DO IT YOU FUCKING IDIOT. YOU COULDN'T DO THAT BRUTAL SHIT YOU LIKE TO DO TOWARDS THEM?? DID YOUR TWO FUNCTIONING BRAINCELLS GIVE UP ON YOU???
Baozhai: I'm sorry! I couldn't help myself.. he was just so dreamy💕 I feel like we had a real connection there!
Islay: HE PUSHED YOU OFF OF HIM! HOW WAS THAT A "REAL CONNECTION"????
Baozhai: it didn't seem like through his actions but I could feel it.. emotionally 🥺
Islay: OH I'M GOING TO SHOW YOU A REAL CONNECTION YOU STUPID SON OF A BI-
//Cut back to Billy and Flint walking through the jungle. Flint was holding the map.//
Bones: you think those two ladies will be fine..?
Flint: I'm sure they will. If they don't, too bad.
Bones: I mean, I feel a little bad.. I knew Islay for a few years and seeing her again was pretty nice... Until she tried killing me. That other girl seemed to like you a lot too..
Flint, sighs: They're the enemy, Billy. Don't think you should feel bad for em'. If the captain was here, he'd smack you on the side of the head.
Bones:
Bones: but he isn't here..
Flint: I can clearly see that-
//Suddenly, Flint fell through the ground. Flint was clinging to the edge of the ground. Below him was molten lava... Seemed as though it was another one of the booby traps. Unfortunately they had overlooked it. Billy, quickly began to pull Flint up. As he began to pull him up, the map slowly slipped out of hands. Flint, just now realizing this, tried grabbing the map. Unfortunately, the map fluttered down into the lava.//
Flint: No, no, no!
//Map: disintegrates.//
Flint: GODDAMNIT!
//Billy successful pulls Flint out of the hole.//
Bones: You okay??
Flint: No! Damnit I lost the FUCKING map!
Bones: It's okay maybe we can-
Flint: No, it is not okay! I lost the fucking map because I chose to talk instead of looking where I was walking! GODDAMNIT, GODDAMNIT, GODDAMNIT!
//Cut back to Islay and Baozhai. Baozhai was trying to figure out a way to untie them.//
Baozhai: maybe if we... No that wouldn't work.. how about! No, no, that wouldn't work either.. HUH! I've got it!
Islay, dying on the inside: what is it...?
Baozhai, slowly tries to use her knees to get up: we'll... Stand up.. and walk to the treasure tied together!
Islay: Sounds stupid.. but by this point what choice do I even have..?
//Islay uses her knees to also get up. Struggling but successful the two were able to get off the ground.//
Baozhai: Okay! Now we just run across the trap!
Islay: If I die doing this... Tell the crew... I hate you more than that warden that almost killed me..
Baozhai: I'll keep that noted!
//Together the two began to run towards the trap. Immediately tons of arrows flew out of the walls. They screamed in terror as the arrows came close to piercing their skin. With luck on their side, they managed to get across without any arrows sticking to them.//
Baozhai, breathing heavily: see.. that.. wasn't.. so bad..
Islay, white as a ghost: I think I may have wet myself there.
Baozhai: ... Gross...
Islay: I SAID I MAY HAVE!
//Cut back to Flint and Billy. After Flint got over his breakdown of losing the map, him and Billy began to walk around the jungle.//
Bones: uhh, let's take this direction..? *Points to a path*
Flint: we already walked through there...
Bones: Oh, um, then how about through here-
Flint, facepalms: we already walked through there too... ten minutes ago.. WE'VE BEEN WALKING IN CIRCLES FOR FUCK SAKE!
Bones: um... how about we try to walk back and retrace out steps?
Flint, let's out a long sigh: ... Fine.
//The two walk back in order to retrace their steps. Behind a bush they saw, Islay and Baozhai. Who were still tied up together.//
Baozhai: I'm telling you, if I was captain I'd be great at it!
Islay: if you were captain, the ship would immediately blow up from your incompetence.
Baozhai: Hey at least I'm the one who memorized the map! That has to count for something when it comes to leadership or captainship..
Islay: Since when do you have photographic memory???
Baozhai: Ever since I could remember ever little detail of me getting "treated" at the mental asylum I was forcefully put in. Like how they'd lock me in a padded room for hours on end in complete darkness and isolation or how they stuck a needle into my eye and into my brain to get the bad spirits out of me.. god it was painful.. haha! Those were the worst times of my life..! :D
Islay:
Islay: Let's just try to get to the treasure in one piece.. and maybe figure out a way out of these ropes.
//Behind the bush, the two clearly heard what they were just talking about. Billy nudged Flint.//
Bones: I've got an idea..
Flint: Let me hear it..
//Baozhai and Islay continued to walk together. It looked like the sun was starting to set. Islay took notice of this.//
Islay: Damnit, night's gonna arrive soon. As if we need any more problems..
Flint, comes out from behind the bushes with Billy: Stop right there!
Islay: Speak of the devil.
Baozhai, gasps: You came back for me! :D
Flint: I'm not here for you, you stupid cow!
Baozhai: yes you are~! I knew you couldn't resist me..
Flint, groans: I swear I'm going to punch you again.
Baozhai: Ooo, sounds hot..
Flint:
Bones:
Islay:
Flint: you know what nevermind... Tell us how to get to the treasure or we'll cut out your tongues!
Baozhai: Oh okay! Make a-
//Islay hits her head with Baozhai's head.//
Baozhai: Hey! Ow...
Islay: Don't tell him anything you idiot! The last time you did that you got us into this mess! Who knows if they'll do it or not!
Baozhai: okay fine
Flint, holds a knife against Baozhai's neck and growls: Talk..
Baozhai: I'd love to but I'm caught between wanting to tell you or possibly being strangled to death by my crewmate..
Flint: I'm going to count to three and if you don't tell me I'm going to kill you and her..
Baozhai:
Flint: One...
Bones: don't you think we should torture it out of them at least?
Flint: two.. *puts the knife and his head closer to her*
Islay: Whatever you do, don't tell him anything Baozhai!
//Baozhai with precious seconds passing by did the only reasonable thing imaginable. She gave Flint a kiss.//
Flint, cutting him off from saying three: *proceeds to gag and quickly step away from her* WHAT THE HELL??
Baozhai: I'm sorry you were getting close to my face and I couldn't help myself~ It was worth it~! Albeit your teeth did kinda cut my lips..
Flint: FUCK THIS *pulls out his flintlock pistol and presses the end against Baozhai's forehead* I'm gonna put a bullet in this cunt's head!
Bones: What about getting to the treasure???
Flint, growls: ... We can figure that out later..
Islay: Hold on now! How about we all get there together..
Flint: What are you talking about?
Islay: I'm saying how about we NOT kill each other until we arrive to the treasure..? You help us get out of these ropes and we lead you guys to the treasure.. then when we get there we can go back to hating each other as normal... That sound like a deal..?
Flint: Why would I trust you.. you could betray us or strand us at any moment when we let you go..
Islay, looks at Baozhai: even if I wanted to, I couldn't because of the simp next to me..
//Flint stared menacingly at Islay. He took out his knife again and held it against Islay's neck. Islay tried moving her head away her from the knife. Instead of slicing her neck open, he swiftly cut the ropes.//
Flint, puts away his gun and his knife: let's get a move on then. The sun is getting low and I'm not planning on carrying the either of you.
Baozhai: ha, I knew you would do that. You care about me too much to ever do such a thing..
Flint: talk one more time and I'm throwing you down a lava pit.
Baozhai:
Baozhai: my lips are sealed..
//The four walk off straight ahead with Baozhai taking lead.//
To be continued...
#sorry if this didn't include your ocs chaosmith2 :((#in the next one I'll make sure to do so!#oc insert#treasure planet#treasure planet au
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Be Mine, this Quarantine
"Dude." Dean nervously chuckles, scrubbing his face with his hand. The other one holds the phone to his ear. "I haven't even been able to ask this guy out to dinner. And you're asking me to ask him to go into isolation with me?"
"You're being dramatic again." Sam tells him, matter-of-factly, as if Dean's the one being unreasonable here.
Sam is the one who specifically called him on a Sunday from California to remind him to self-isolate, but "do it with someone like Castiel, okay?" - like he's supposed to be taking care of his older brother from fucking Stanford, like Dean knows anyone else like Cas, and like he's ever going to be able to propose something of that sort to Cas.
"He has a third-floor apartment." Sam points out, revisiting all of his super valid points. "You share a dorm with three other guys. And he just seems like the kind who'd be the correct amount of a germophobe." Dean rolls his eyes - although he also agrees. "Dean, you share so many classes with him that if nothing else, you could revise your entire semester together - and to top it all off, you're like best friends."
Benny comes to Dean's head and he starts to protest.
"You text him, Dean." The eyeroll and bitchface are audible in Sam's voice. "You, who exits all text chains you've ever been added to because quote unquote you're not an adolescent teenager with a celebrity crush, or looking to be catfished - you, Dean Winchester, text Cas."
That - wasn't far from the truth.
He wouldn't call them texting buddies or anything, but Castiel always sends a good morning text, and Dean always sends him a picture of his breakfast (because that's what he's up to by the time Castiel wakes up) and sometimes Dean's late for class because he lost track of time while talking to Cas, and sometimes they stay up all night together discussing the most inconsequential things like why mattresses matter to Dean and bees matter to Cas, and - yeah. He should probably call them texting buddies.
"Whatever, bitch." Dean throws back, taking the small losses his way as long as he wins the final battle. "Fine, we're friends. That doesn't automatically mean we'll be able to live together."
"You cannot actually mean that." Sam scoffs. "You're the best kind of neat freak I know, because you just end up doing all the tidying up by yourself. And you can cook." Dean huffs. "Admit it, jerk. Compatibility in a shared living space shouldn't be your concern."
Sure, Sam makes some good points, but Dean has the biggest card up his sleeve - which will trump all of Sam's meticulously presented arguments.
He's sorta in love with Cas.
But to say out loud to his little brother, it comes out as, "What if Cas doesn't want me there?"
Sam pauses.
Point, Dean Winchester.
"That's exactly why you need to talk to him." He finally says, but he sounds more thoughtful like it finally entered his twenty two year old brain that Cas might not want to shack up with Dean.
"Like hell, I will."
"I swear on your bullshit, Dean," Sam threatens. "I won't hesitate to take a cheap-ass flight, straight to Cas's apartment."
Dean balks. "You're not getting on any planes right now, Sammy -"
"And you're asking him." Sam declares, and if he were in front of Dean, he'd be crossing his arms on his chest which usually implies the end of a debate in Sam-the-to-be-lawyer speak. "Promise me."
"What will I even say?" Dean retorts, indignant. "Like, do I just go up to the guy like 'hey, wanna have me impose on you for a bunch of weeks?'" Sam snickers like Dean's trying to be funny. "'I promise to clean and make you food if you let me live with you during a pandemic'?"
"Something like that." Sam laughs, and Dean has to smile - because that doesn't happen very often and when it does, it reminds him of a past where they were much closer than California and Kansas. "Tell me how it goes, okay?"
"Nothing's going -"
"You promised."
"I didn't fucking promise a thing -"
The line clicks, and Sam is gone. Dean lands back on his bed, and wonders briefly if it'd be easier to die.
*
He calls Cas - because they're not goddamn texting buddies, no matter what Sam says - and asks if he's free for lunch.
Cas says yes and actually sounds excited about it.
*
When Dean reaches their usual diner, he takes longer than usual to park the Impala - all the while thinking about how he's going to frame the question to Cas, because he's fought it out with himself and knows that he's going to do it. He'd also taken longer than usual to drive there from the University apparently, because when he reaches, Cas is already there.
He's sitting on a table for two - probably just because that allows him to have a seat against the wall and Cas is kind of adorable about small things like that - and he's slumping over his phone.
But he puts it down when Dean approaches, and as Dean takes off his jacket, Cas puts his phone back in his jeans and uses his fingers to fidget instead. When Dean sits, a little amused, Cas is the one who speaks up first and in a hurry.
"Would you like to quarantine with me?"
Dean blinks. He takes a moment to think and then asks, "Did Sam get to you?"
"Uh, your brother Sam?" Cas frowns, shaking his head. "No, why would he?"
"Nevermind." Dean believes him. Though he cannot believe what just happened.
"So?"
"Oh." He's supposed to give an answer, because Cas doesn't know how much Dean's been thinking about it. Though, in his defense, most of the time, Cas tends to be so goddamn intuitive that Dean feels like he can read his mind.
Nonetheless, Dean tries to answer as casually as he can. "Yes. I mean, of course. Thank you for asking."
That's Dean Winchester in a sentence.
He tries to shoot for the normal, and ends up in affirmative-response-to-a-promposal territory.
"Are you sure?" Cas asks, sounding slightly less sure than before.
Did you not hear me say 'of course, thank you for asking' after that yes?
"Yeah, buddy." He pulls the menu from Cas's side of the table to his, sliding it on the table. "So what are we eating?"
"I'm not forcing you into this, am I?" Cas interrupts, hand on Dean's wrist jolting his attention back and ruining his complete 'casual' cover, because now Dean's sweating too. "Just because I asked, and just because we're friends - you don't have to say yes to anything, okay?"
"I know that." Dean gives Cas his best reassuring smile, though it's a little non-assured from his own core.
"I wake up late and I'm not sure when I sleep." Cas confesses, eyes worried. "The flat is clean only because I stuff everything in the closets. And I have a neighbor - you remember Balthazar, right? He just returned from France."
"How long ago is 'just'?" Dean repeats, and then adds. "And frankly I'd assumed he was simply being pretentious when we met."
"Two months." Castiel bites his lip. "And he is. The accent is fake."
"We'll survive." Dean announces, grinning broader. "Plus I can't wait to hear that guy minus the accent now."
Castiel makes an exasperated sound.
"Cas, how do I put this?" Dean sighs, knowing that things would eventually come to this. "I would be grateful if you'd let me stay with you, and -"
"Sometimes I wander around the house with my cat past midnight." Cas volunteers, out of the blue.
Naked?
Dean's brain jumps there and then he drags it back from the gutter - or, you know, the land of tempting imaginable scenarios.
"I want to live with you, you dumbass."
Cas pauses like that's at all surprising. "You do?"
"I was literally trying to figure out how to ask." Dean rubs the back of his neck, feeling his face heat up. "And then you did, okay? And then I said yes, and I wanted us to not talk about it all lunch because later we're going to have important shit to figure out like food and beer and toilet paper and -"
"When exactly you'll move in." Cas offers, and when he puts it like that, a little bit of Dean melts.
"Uh-huh."
"Okay." Cas smiles, and finally it's that smile - eyes all crinkled, nose all scrunched up, the very definition of gummy - and fuck, Dean's very much in love with him and has just dug himself a huge, apartment-shaped hole, but he'd fucking like to live with him too, and he's a fucking liar if he isn't being a little hopeful about it too.
"We'll not talk about it." Cas declares. "And before, you'd asked me what we were eating?"
Dean nods.
"Well, I asked the waitress for recommendations for something memorable and she offered me the specials menu." Cas says, innocent as though everyone in the city doesn't know not to ask for the specials' menu at Reed's diner.
Dean starts to pray.
"So, kale pecan pesto." Cas announces. "And yes, I had to Google what that is later and no, I'm not showing you."
"God-fucking-dammit, Cas." Dean glares at him. "These might be our last diner meals for the foreseeable future, I don't want to have rabbit food -"
And then Cas winks at him like that's something he's allowed to do, and Dean's suddenly flustered again - and if that isn't an apt summary of how living with Cas is going to be like, he doesn't know what is.
#destiel#quarantine#destiel fluff#self isolation#destiel crack#soft bois#destiel ficlet#destiel college au#young destiel#young dean winchester#young castiel#castiel#castiel/dean winchester#castiel/dean#dean winchester#dean winchester fluff#not spoilers#representation week#coronavirus
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