#especially the old imagination pavilion

[socialistexan]

Feel like right shit, just want her back.

[robininthelabyrinth]

The Other Mountain - ao3 - Chapter 1

Pairing: Lan Qiren/Wen Ruohan

Warning Tags on Ao3

Summary: Lan Qiren still couldn’t quite bring himself to believe it.

He was married.

He had a wife.

That wife was Wen Ruohan.

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A/N: Title from the idiom “The other mountain’s stone can polish jade” (他山之石��可以攻玉), meaning improving yourself through external criticism or accepting advice from others will help you overcome your shortcomings.

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Wangji was missing.

Wangji was missing, and Lan Qiren was frantic with worry. Lan Wangji had always been a solemn child, perhaps too solemn for a six-year-old, and he had always adhered firmly to routine, the way Lan Qiren did. But now he was nowhere to be found, not in his rooms, not in the classroom, not in the training yards, the Library Pavilion…he was simply gone!

Not that Lan Qiren could blame him for running away.

Not when –

Lan Qiren had to pause in his search through the corners of the Library Pavilion and close his eyes, his chest abruptly too tight for no physical reason at all.

Everything was different now.

The moment it had all changed had been viscerally seared into his brain, every single sensation so clear that Lan Qiren needed only to close his eyes to be back there at once. Had no choice but to be back there, every time he did, whether he wanted to or not. He could feel his shoulders suddenly too-tight and too-heavy, could feel his nose filled with the damp smell of dirt and death that had permeated the room, his throat choked by the stuffy heat of it, all the windows closed…

His ears ringing, his breath too fast. His entire body frozen with sudden inextricable tension.

And the blood, of course.

There had been so much blood.

Wangji had not seen the blood, at least, and for that Lan Qiren was deeply thankful. He could not even imagine his little nephew’s reaction to such a thing – not his Wangji, who had always been so rigid, so formal, so distressed when things did not happen as they should…he’d never been especially good at dealing with change. The Lan sect’s teachings counseled acceptance of change, the recognition that it was inevitable, but Wangji had always been deeply suspicious of it.

In that way, he was…a little too much like his uncle.

Change had never been good for Lan Qiren, either, not in his whole life.

His mother’s too-early death, his father’s decline, his brother’s love and his decision to abandon his duties to save his accused murderess of a wife – it was all the same, all bad, every change a change for the worse. Every time something changed, he was forced to change with it, and never into anything he wanted. He’d been so young, so painfully inexperienced and immature, when he’d been forced to start taking over sect matters, and he hadn’t wanted any of it. He hadn’t wanted to spend his time in the confusing and unpleasant marsh of politics. He hadn’t wanted to become the acting sect leader.

He certainly hadn’t wanted to be a father.

Lan Qiren loved his nephews, he did, but at the same time…no, he hadn’t wanted to be a father.

And that was what he was to them, really, though he’d never been granted the title and had been scrupulous about never doing anything to indicate he might deserve it, even when he felt inside that perhaps he might. As usual, he’d gotten all the duties and none of the benefits, and all the months he’d had of foreknowledge of his nephews’ arrival had somehow still been utterly insufficient to prepare him to take care of two small children.

He’d never wanted any of it.

Lan Qiren hadn’t wanted the years of sleepless nights, using one hand to write out sect correspondence by candlelight and the other to comfort sleeping infants that no one else could settle, that he didn’t dare entrust to anyone else for too long for fear that they would never be returned to him. He hadn’t wanted to be burdened with so much responsibility, always worrying about them, always chasing after them, always thinking of them, having to keep in mind two other schedules other than his own, always having to accommodate them. He hadn’t wanted to endure long and agonizing waits, filled with anxiety – raising children seemed like nothing but waiting, sometimes. First waiting for them to be born from a woman he barely knew, then waiting for them to fall asleep, waiting for them to heal after an illness, waiting for them to grow up…

Lan Qiren hadn’t wanted to have to figure out how to parent a child, two children, when he felt as though he were still barely old enough to figure out how to behave properly himself.

For them, Lan Qiren had had to learn to balance love and discipline, simultaneously worrying that too much kindness and laxity would hurt them in the future and that too much strictness and censure would hurt them in the present. He’d never been sure which one to pick and he had been convinced every time that he’d picked the wrong one. He’d had to try to manage the frustration and self-hatred that came with raising his two nephews, the way he constantly questioned and second-guessed himself, the guilt that came with every decision he made for them because there was no one else available to make them.

He had been constantly dogged with the feeling that he wasn’t enough.

That he could never be enough.

Lan Qiren had at one point found himself regularly waking up in the middle of the night, utterly terrified. Terrified that he was ruining these children – terrified that they would grow up and one day realize that Lan Qiren was not only inept but inadequate, and grow to resent him in the same way that he’d grown to resent his own father, in time.

Lan Qiren’s father had resented him, blaming him for his mother’s death from the complications of childbirth, and Lan Qiren had known it, known it and suffered terribly from it.

He hadn’t wanted to resent his nephews the same way.

He hadn’t – and yet he had, at least a little. How could he help it? Lan Qiren had been a young man when his brother had retreated into seclusion, now going on ten years ago, and in truth, by the standards of his sect elders, he was still a young man. But he’d grown old before his time, trapped at home by duty during the age when most young men went out to travel the world, to do good deeds and earn fame and fall in love. He’d had to give all that up in favor of the soul-crushing drudgery of politics and the day-to-day management of a sect with so many people. He’d had to give up travel in favor of security because the sect couldn’t risk their last remaining heir, give up all thought of devoting himself to something of his own choosing, give up everything in order to fritter away his youth in endless, endless work. He’d had to give up that part of life that should have been marked by independence, autonomy, and agency, a time to learn and to figure out who he was. A time of freedom.

He hadn’t had that chance.

He never would.

From the very first moment that He Kexin’s pregnancy had been disclosed to him, that had been the end of it, the extinguishing of all hope. His nephews had shackled him to the Cloud Recesses more thoroughly than even the sect leader position, and although he loved them, it was because of that love that he was so thoroughly bound in place. He’d adored them from the first moment he’d seen them, loved them more than he loved himself, but he could not say that he had wanted them.

That would be a lie, and the Lan sect rules said: Do not tell lies.

From there came the resentment, from there came the guilt.

He hadn’t wanted them.

He certainly hadn’t wanted the closest adult relationship in his life to be with He Kexin, who he did not like and did not love and who he had certainly never touched – he, who’d never even kissed anyone – and yet he had no choice, for to do anything less would be to deny his nephews access to the mother they loved or He Kexin to the sons she’d birthed. He had had no choice but to see her every month when he took his nephews to see her, and then again even more often to ask her questions or bring her something she wanted.

Lan Qiren had resented her, too, even though he pitied her for her eventual fate, which she had brought upon herself. For his nephew’s sakes he had never said a word against her, keeping silent where he couldn’t say anything good – speak meagerly for too many words bring only harm – but in his heart he could not help but blame her for his predicament, for all the dreams he’d lost, even though he tried not to. The one who was ultimately at fault for ruining Lan Qiren’s innocent dreams of freedom was his brother, not the woman he’d married, but Lan Qiren still couldn’t help thinking that it had been her actions, her decision to kill a Lan sect elder within the Cloud Recesses, that had kicked off that terrible sequence of events.

If only she had never come to the Cloud Recesses.

If only she had chosen another way, any way, to resolve whatever her troubles had been other than murdering their teacher.

If only –

If only his brother hadn’t been so mad for love!

If only they hadn’t been so selfish, both of them - his brother in marrying his love to save her life despite everything she’d done, in declaring he would enter seclusion in penance rather than carry out the duties he’d sworn to uphold…if only they had not had children together, the second time with full knowledge that the child would be given to Lan Qiren as yet another burden he’d had no choice but to accept. They’d made him a father twice over without his consent, and sometimes it bewildered him how much he resented them both for that.

When Lan Qiren was being sensible and reasonable, he knew that his brother and He Kexin hadn’t had children for the purpose of hurting him, but that didn’t make him feel better about it.

He hated her for it.

In truth, he hated him for it.

He didn’t want to admit it – do not, the Lan sect’s rules counseled, do not, do not, do not – but he did, he really, truly did. Lan Qiren hated his brother.

He hated his brother.

As a child, Lan Qiren had adored him. His brother, ten years his elder, had seemed like a giant in Lan Qiren’s eyes, and he had for the longest time disregarded the fact that his brother had always disliked him for reasons that had never wholly made sense to Lan Qiren…but no love could live one-sided forever.

Years and years of crushing duty had curdled whatever love Lan Qiren had had for his brother into disdain and disapproval, a toxic stew made up of all those endless nights of wondering why, if he could sacrifice himself, his brother couldn’t or wouldn’t do the same. All those days of labor, those pointless sessions in front of his brother’s locked door attempting to report to him about matters of the sect that he ought to have cared about and maybe did, and receiving not a single word in response, not once.

Not one single time in all those ten years.

Yes, Lan Qiren hated him.

He hated the great and powerful Qingheng-jun, the man who should have been elder brother and father both, who should have cared for Lan Qiren instead of disdaining him. He hated the man who had been the Lan sect’s prized treasure and hope for the future, once upon a time, before he’d thrown it all away for a love like disaster, a love that no one had wanted, not even his wife.

Especially his wife.

He Kexin…

There had been so much blood.

Lan Qiren had been the one to find her.

Had it really only been four days ago? Only four days, four sleepless nights, and seemingly endless hours, since Lan Qiren had gone to see He Kexin – thankfully without his nephews – to ask her some pointless question he no longer remembered, and had instead found her dead upon the floor of her beautiful prison of gentians?

This will change everything, he’d thought at that moment, staring down at her body, mute with shock. Everything.

He Kexin had been a beautiful woman, a fact that had been unchanged by age or imprisonment, but now – now her beauty had been marred, irreversibly marred. The pool of blood around her, the bloody sword at her side…

Lan Qiren had rushed over at once to try to help, not yet realizing she was dead, not yet realizing what must have happened – what she must have done to herself, since there was no one else around. In his memory, he was still there crouched above her, his fingers still pressed to her neck to seek a pulse that wasn’t there, his other hand still cupped under her nose, trying desperately to feel the warmth of her breath on his palm and finding nothing.

Ironically, between the Cloud Recesses’ strict rules on segregating male and female disciples and how young he’d been when he’d been suddenly forced to become an elder, it was probably the most bodily contact Lan Qiren had ever had with a woman. Even Cangse Sanren, who he’d known for only one brief and bright summer, had had enough propriety to avoid unasked-for contact, or at least she did if one put aside her one late-night adventure in shaving off his beard while he was asleep. It was certainly the most contact he’d had with another adult in years, he who had only his nephews and his work and basically no friends. He was surrounded by family, that was true, but he was not close to any of them. Even the cousin he’d liked most as a child, a boy by the name of Lan Yueheng, had since gone out into the world to seek his fortune, or at least to go get more of those dreadful plants he was so fond of.

(He’d written, at first, but at the time Lan Qiren had been dreadfully jealous of his freedom, so he hadn’t responded. He’d instead let himself sink into the muck and mire of sect business, drowning in it, insensate to and rejecting the rest of the world in his bitterness and resentment, and by the time he’d resurfaced and realized he really did need other people, that relationship and all the others like it had weakened, grown distant. And now he had no one at all.)

Touch had long become something Lan Qiren had grown to deeply crave but didn’t know how to ask for. A friend, a lover, even someone who only wanted his body, a thought he’d initially disliked but in the intervening years had grown more open to…he’d thought to himself that he’d welcome anything, really, as long as it could touch him. And then, in some grim parody of his life so far, instead of what he’d really wanted, he’d ended up instead with a lifeless corpse in his arms.

Change, he’d thought, trapped in that dreadful moment, this means that things will change, and he had been afraid.

Not afraid enough.

He hadn’t thought – he hadn’t realized –

No, Lan Qiren couldn’t blame Wangji for having run away in the face of all the things that had changed, all the things that had happened, all the things that were still to come. These days, Lan Qiren found himself yearning to run away as well.

But empathy aside, Wangji was still missing, Wangji still needed to be found. He was not in the Library Pavilion, not even in the Forbidden Section, and so Lan Qiren left to continue the search.

“Have you seen him?” he demanded when he saw several of the disciples he’d sent out looking for Lan Wangji returning, but they all shook their heads in the negative. “What are you doing back here, then?! There are more places to check! It is winter, cold, and Wangji is young and likely not sufficiently dressed, liable to get sick. We must find him at once. He could be anywhere –”

“Qiren.”

A feeling of icy cold ran down Lan Qiren’s spine, a match for the absolute frozen calm of that voice.

It wasn’t because of the winter weather.

He turned and saluted formally. Too formally, really, given that they were inside the Cloud Recesses, alone among family, but he wasn’t stopped or excused from doing it.

He’d known he wouldn’t be.

“Xiongzhang,” Lan Qiren said, his head bowed down and his eyes fixed firmly on the ground for as long as he could manage before propriety required he look at who he was speaking with. “I did not see that you were there.”

“And yet here I am,” his brother said. He stepped out of the shadows and into the light, the gleaming Qingheng-jun in all his majesty – he looked perfect as always, and standing there in the gently falling snow he looked like some idealized dream of ink given form in real life. Ten years of complete seclusion seemed to have taken no toll on him, and he was as tall and broad-shouldered and beautiful as he had ever been. “Where else would I be?”

Anywhere, Lan Qiren thought, and tasted the bile of his hatred on his tongue. Anywhere but here.

Back in seclusion where you belong, maybe.

When Lan Qiren had found He Kexin’s body, he had known that it meant that things would change. Foolishly, perhaps, he had thought only in terms of the impact it would have on Xichen and Wangji. He had known that it would crush them. They were good boys, loyal and filial, and they loved their mother deeply; it was for that reason that he had tortured himself visiting her so often, despite his resentment of her. He had not known how to make her loss easier for them.

Xichen was old enough to understand death, at least, but Wangji wasn’t, being only six; Lan Qiren had worried about how he would take it. Lan Qiren knew how delicate his younger nephew was, how stiff and strict…how similar to his rigid, rule-bound shufu, to Lan Qiren’s agonized mix of pride and shame. He had worried about him all the more because of that, knowing how badly he himself would have taken such a thing at that same age.

He hadn’t thought to worry about anything else.

He hadn’t thought…

It had been ten years. Ten years that Lan Qiren had borne the weight of his sect on his shoulders, alone, and only a little over nine since Xichen’s birth. Ten years since he had been summoned home from some sect business he’d been sent on because his brother was too busy being in love to do it, the note in his hand speaking only of disaster. Ten years since his brother had married his beloved lady instead of letting her stand trial for murder. Ten years since his brother had declared that he would be entering seclusion to pay for his sins in marrying her.

Sins which, as Lan Qiren belatedly discovered, his brother considered to be paid off by He Kexin’s death.

Lan Qiren had been in a daze after discovering He Kexin’s body – no matter what he felt about her, she had been a reliable constant in his life, and he hated change – and he had been worried for his nephews, putting that fear before everything else. He had mechanically gone through the expected motions, the sort of thing that would happen with any unexpected death in the Cloud Recesses: the servants with access to the house questioned, though as expected all of them had been attending to duties elsewhere at the time, arrangements made for the body to be moved until the funeral, the house cleaned, a musician appointed to play spiritual songs in honor of the deceased, all the usual. Lan Qiren had done everything he needed to do as sect leader, and everything he had needed to do as the closest adult relative of her family as well.

Well.

The closest available adult relative.

Lan Qiren hadn’t thought twice about reporting the fact of He Kexin’s passing to his brother’s door, that useless practice he had maintained less out of conviction than out of habit. He had felt…sorry, he supposed, that he had had to tell his brother that his wife was dead, that the great love he had sacrificed everything for was gone. But at the same time he hadn’t paid very much attention to it, either. It hadn’t seemed all that important at the time, not in comparison with the agony he knew awaited his nephews when he told them the same news.

Lan Qiren hadn’t thought about what it might mean – for his brother, for his sect, for his nephews.

For him.

After all, with his wife, the reason for his seclusion, dead, there was no reason for Qingheng-jun to continue abstaining from the mortal world. He had come out once more, Lan Qiren’s elder brother, and in so doing he had taken back from Lan Qiren all that was rightfully his.

His sect.

His sons.

“There is no reason to waste other people’s time searching for Wangji,” Lan Qiren’s brother said, voice flat and disinterested. “When he is finished with his temper tantrum, he will come out to face punishment for his defiance.”

Lan Qiren’s nails dug into his palms.

Defiance? He wanted to shout. How can you speak of defiance, of punishment – Wangji is six! He is too young for punishment to be a lesson! At his age, he does not yet know how to trace the connection between his actions and their consequences. He is hurting, as anyone could expect; his mother has just died! To punish him now when what he needs is comfort would be worse than pointless. He would learn nothing from it, nothing but that those who he should be able to trust are willing to hurt him.

Don’t you dare, he wanted to scream. Don’t you dare touch him, don’t you dare…

But it was Lan Qiren, now, who could not dare.

He had raised both boys from infancy himself; he had done everything for them, more than a man of his position strictly should have. He had fed them with goat’s milk when the wetnurse the sect had hired couldn’t manage, he had had changed their dirty clothing, he had tucked them into bed, given them baths, wiped away their tears. He had taught them to speak, taught them to walk, taught them the rules, taught them everything he could – but in the end he was still only their uncle, not their father. He wasn’t even their sect leader, with power enough to stop that which he thought was wrong.

He could do nothing.

Lan Qiren had always believed that he did not love power in its own right. He had always been quite proud of it, even, patting himself on the back with the knowledge that he, unlike so many of his fellow sect leaders, had never sought the position, had never loved it for the power it gave him, had never yearned greedily to increase that power and been willing to make compromises in order to do so. It was only now that all power had been stripped away from him, rendering him absolutely helpless to enact his will and leaving him only his useless words that could change nothing, that Lan Qiren realized how accustomed to power he had become.

It was only now that he realized that power was necessary not only for duty’s sake, for tradition and for the sake of his sect, but to let him protect that which he held dear.

“I do not believe Wangji intended to be defiant,” Lan Qiren said, forcing the hatred and bitterness out of his mouth and trying to sound as humble as he could manage. He was still half-bent in the salute, trapped in the posture because his brother and sect leader had not seen fit to give him leave to stand back up; the humiliation was deliberate, the insult pointed, and it burned more than he might have thought it would, if he had ever thought about it. Lan Qiren had grown too arrogant, these past few years of reporting to his brother’s locked door as if to nobody, and his brother had not forgotten nor forgiven it. “I believe he has merely been overwhelmed by all that has been happening around him and fled in order to master himself. He reacts badly to change, and always has…the failure in teaching him is mine.”

“Yes, it is,” Lan Qiren’s brother agreed, and finally waved his hand – twitched his fingers, more like – to allow Lan Qiren to straighten. “They tell me you have made yourself some reputation as a teacher while I was gone, but I must admit I haven’t seen much evidence of it.”

While I was gone, he called it, as if he’d just ducked out for a quick night-hunt or a casual visit to see friends, rather than forcefully reordered the sect for ten years, stolen away Lan Qiren’s life for ten years, while he indulged himself in his sacrificial penance. While I was gone.

Just hearing it phrased like that made Lan Qiren’s blood boil. The rules said Do not succumb to rage, but Lan Qiren’s temper had always been poor, one of his many failings.

And yet he wondered how anyone could not succumb to rage in the face of such provocation.

“I admit to my failings,” Lan Qiren said again, hoping that his self-abnegation would satisfy his brother’s apparent desire to see him torn down. His brother had never liked Lan Qiren, an ancient hatred that had grown to be mutual in time, but seclusion seemed to have sharpened it into something very near to cruelty – it had only been three days since his brother had exited his seclusion, and Lan Qiren had already accumulated enough punishments that the end of the month would see him reporting to the discipline hall to be whipped like an immature boy. He’d already been obligated to spend one long bitter night kneeling outside in the cold winter wind instead of grieving or working; his brother had even come to watch, as if he’d thought Lan Qiren couldn’t be trusted to actually follow through on the assigned discipline.

He had been smiling.

“Still, as the fault is mine, I worry that Wangji may not realize that he has erred,” Lan Qiren said carefully, trying to strike the balance that would let him protect his nephew from a punishment he did not deserve and would not think to expect. “I am certain that he would make amends if he did. If only he can be found, first…”

His brother’s face did not show any sign of yielding, and Lan Qiren’s anxiety spiked. Didn’t he understand?

“It is snowing, Xiongzhang,” he said, stressing the word. “Wangji is still very young, young enough that a fever could be very dangerous to him, and he is likely not sufficiently dressed for the weather. If he isn’t found, he could linger outside and grow ill. If we could only find him…”

“You can do as you like with your own time,” his brother said, and Lan Qiren nearly lost his breath at the sheer dismissiveness of the statement, at how little his brother seemed to appreciate all that Lan Qiren had done in his absence. As if all of Lan Qiren’s sacrifices for the sect had been merely the misbehavior of an unattended child. “But do not waste that of others.”

That was the best he was going to get, Lan Qiren realized, and gritted his teeth in suppressed anger, wondering why his brother didn’t seem to realize, didn’t seem to care, even though Wangji was his son…but such thoughts were meaningless. His brother had decided, and his brother was sect leader, his word as immovable as any of the rules on the Wall of Discipline.

There was nothing to do but accept it.

So Lan Qiren did, nodding stiffly and saluting his brother once more before he turned to go.

“Once you find my son,” Qingheng-jun said from behind him, and Lan Qiren couldn’t help but wonder if he emphasized the words my son just to remind Lan Qiren that his nephews had never truly belonged to him, “you are to return him to his rooms and then report to my rooms at you shi. It is time to discuss your future.”

Lan Qiren swallowed. “My future?”

Change again, he thought, his stomach clenching in terror. Not again –

Although Lan Qiren didn’t turn around, he could feel his brother stepping forward again, coming closer to him.

“I think you’ve done enough here, Qiren,” his brother murmured into his ear, voice low but cold. Always cold. “Don’t you?”

No.

“Don’t be late.”

Lan Qiren nodded once more, stiff now with terror rather than rage, and left as quickly as he could. It was better not to think about it, he told himself. There wasn’t time to worry about himself right now.

He had to find Wangji.

Only…he still had no idea where his nephew could have gone. The Cloud Recesses were large, and Lan Qiren was only one man; he could only cover so much ground. He’d already checked all the usual places: his rooms, Xichen’s rooms, Lan Qiren’s own rooms, the classroom, the library, the discipline hall, the places he was usually assigned to do chores, the garden he preferred to play in. Lan Qiren knew that Wangji took after him, that he was also a creature of habit, that he preferred to walk the same paths whenever he could. And yet he wasn’t in any of his favorite haunts. Where could he be?

Lan Qiren wished he could at least ask Xichen for his insight – his older nephew could read his younger brother like no one else – but Xichen would be at his lessons now, and Lan Qiren had already been instructed not to interrupt or distract him. Xichen was his brother’s eldest son, his heir, and since Lan Qiren’s teachings had already been found to be inadequate, his brother had decreed that it was necessary for him to be thrown into a punishing schedule meant to help him meet his father’s expectations. Lan Qiren hadn’t seen Xichen for nearly two days by this point, and it was probably the longest period of time they had ever spent apart while they were both in the Cloud Recesses.

He hadn’t been allowed to see him.

Lan Qiren’s brother really was treating him as if Lan Qiren were still some stupid child messing around and causing trouble for everyone, rather than a man of thirty. As if Lan Qiren hadn’t led one of the Great Sects for ten years, managing the elders and tricky internal sect strife on one hand and the complex and subtle play of intersect politics on the other, as if he weren’t the man who’d raised his brother’s children for him, who for ten years had done everything for his brother, even tended to his older brother’s own damned wife –

Wait. He Kexin. Of course.

Today was the day of the month when Lan Qiren normally took his nephews to see their mother.

Lan Qiren had explained to his nephews that they wouldn’t be going to visit her this month, or ever again. He’d tried to be kind about it, but still explicit enough to make clear what had happened.

Wangji…Wangji must not have understood.

He had cried, of course, because Xichen had cried, but he hadn’t understood. Lan Qiren had stayed with them all night, first holding them in his arms and then playing them music meant to help them sleep. At the time, he’d planned to try to slowly coax his younger nephew towards some semblance of understanding. He had meant to repeat himself several times, to explain more, to give them both books or stories that would help them understand and come to terms with what had happened, but then the next morning Qingheng-jun had come out of seclusion and everything had so very suddenly changed…

No matter. Lan Qiren hurried his steps towards He Kexin’s house, and was relieved to see a small figure crouched there in the snow in front of the closed door.

“Wangji,” he called, though there was no response. “Wangji, there you are…”

He went over to where Wangji was stubbornly kneeling, red-nosed and red-cheeked from the wind.

“I’m here to see Mother,” Lan Wangji announced before Lan Qiren could say anything. “I’m not going.”

“Wangji…”

What could Lan Qiren say?

Your mother is dead, and you should mourn her. Your father is alive, and you should mourn that, too.

You have already lost so much, and though you do not know it, you have more yet to lose. Death has already taken your mother away, and your father is going to take me away, too. He has already barred me from Xichen, and he will do the same with you, I know it. I should tell you, prepare you for it, but I can barely bring myself to believe it, so how can I explain it to you? I do not know what my brother has planned for me, nor for you both, but I know that there is nothing I can do to stop him.

I do not know how to tell you.

I do not know how to tell you that I have failed you, Wangji. You and Xichen both. That I am not strong or wise enough to defend you.

I do not know how to tell you that things are going to change, change for the worse, and I will not even be able to be there to help you with it.

I have let you down.

You are still so young, Wangji. You probably will not even remember me after a few years, except maybe to hate me for abandoning you. You will not know that I did not do it voluntarily, only that it happened. Only that I did not stop it from happening.

If only I could stop it.

If only –

But there is nothing I can do.

I am useless, I am hopeless, I am worthless, just the way my brother has always thought me to be.

I am sorry, Wangji. I am so very sorry…

“…Shufu?”

Lan Qiren tried to say something.

It probably would have been something inane like The rules say ‘Do not grieve in excess’ – but all of a sudden he couldn’t get the words out of his mouth, all of them congealing abruptly into a sob he could not suppress. And that was even worse, because once there was one, there was another, and another, and then he was kneeling next to Lan Wangji in the snow with his hands futilely cast over his face to hide his disgrace, sobbing pointlessly like the immature child his brother so obviously thought he was.

“Shufu?” Lan Wangji sounded alarmed, as well he should in the face of such a wretched display by someone who ought to be setting a good example for him. “Shufu, don’t cry! I didn’t mean to upset you – I am sorry –”

“It is not your fault,” Lan Qiren choked out. He didn’t really think it was his own fault, either, not really, since he didn’t think he’d ever done anything to earn his brother’s hatred other than being born, but he blamed himself regardless. He blamed himself for Wangji having run away, he blamed himself for He Kexin having killed herself to escape her endless solitude, and he blamed himself for not being able to do anything to stop his brother from stealing away every source of joy he’d ever managed to spare for himself.

Was this the ultimate price of his dreams, he wondered wildly, the price of his secret resentment? Lan Qiren had never wanted to be a father, never wanted to run a sect, hadn’t wanted to be He Kexin’s caretaker – well, here it was, all his stupid selfish wishes finally fulfilled.

He wasn’t any of those anymore.

He wasn’t anything, anymore. In his brother’s eyes, he was scarcely even the second son of the Lan sect.

“It is not your fault,” Lan Qiren said, tears still spilling down his face as he wept, unable to stop himself. Do not grieve in excess, the rules said, but surely this was not excess. Surely this was exactly as much grief as his stricken heart felt fit for the situation. “It is not your fault. It is important that you know that, Wangji. You must listen to me, listen to your shufu. Know that none of this is your fault.”

“Shufu –”

“Listen to me. It is not you, it is not Xichen. You must both know that. None of this is your fault, none of it will ever have been your fault. It is only that – that things have changed, Wangji. Things have changed. They are never going to go back to the way they were.”

He could feel Wangji’s small hand on his arm, patting him lightly, seeking to comfort him.

But there was no comfort to be had.

“We cannot go back to the way things were,” Lan Qiren said again. “Not for your mother –”

And not for me.

[calliopescorner]

Also, what is Hestia's roll if any that she has?

-OverAnalyzer

HESTIA

APPEARANCE:

Hestia presents as an adult, and she is a virgin goddess. She is always dressed modestly, and her eyes glow warmly with the fire of her hearth. She always carries a bowl for her flame, and her fire can glow in every color imaginable, depending on her feelings.

CHAMPION:

Her champion is chosen for who will hold up the sense of family amongst their own and others the best. One who is loyal to whatever family they chose, and who will keep Hestia’s hearth always burning, will be her champion. They are given some of her divine powers, and can call on her during their times of need. They can also talk to Hestia in their dreams. They are allowed to stay in the cabin of their godly parent, though if they chose to, they could stay in Hestia’s cabin.

FIRE OF LIFE:

Hestia, rarely, can imbue a creature, mortal, or demigod with a blessing to revive them back to life if they were to die. This is called the “fire of life,” and it is a rare occurrence where Hestia witnesses something she cares deeply for die.

Many do not get this chance, but those that do are able to be revived and continue living. This only gets them back to life, and does not make them invincible. If they have some kind of curse, like the Curse of Achilles or some other dangerous curse to them, the curse will burn away and they will be free from it. They won’t have any other powers, but their skin will receive a faint glow, and they will always run warm.

CABIN:

Her cabin is made out of terracotta clay and wood, and is welcoming. Two small hearths burn outside the cabin, and paintings of comforting fire and light cover the outside of the cabin. On one side, hand-prints are painted in a burst of warm colors, as a mark from every new demigod who has come to Camp after the Second Titanomachy.

The inside, while a bit crowded from the amount of beds, is also quite warm and homely. A table sits in the middle of the cabin for campers to come around to talk or relax, and in the basement, there are a couple more beds, but also an underground kitchen for when the demigods staying with her need a bite to eat outside of the dining pavilion. It has also been reinforced with Celestial bronze bars to prevent further damage. Inside, it always smells similar to the demigods own home, or their favorite smell that reminds them of home.

The original cabin was destroyed by the Titan Army during the Second Titanomachy, which summoned Hestia to the fight in the first place. The old cabin was much more cramped and wrecked due to the amount of demigods who were almost constantly coming in and out of its walls. Now, the space is much more taken care of, so the demigods that stay there can live happier, healthier lives.

CABIN CULTURE:

The cabin counselor can be any demigod from any godly parent, though it generally takes the form of her champion. They are in charge of keeping track of the demigods that come into and leave the cabin, and for keeping the general peace of it for those who live there.

Before the new pact was made, the demigods who came through the cabin had little hope of being claimed. Many of them stayed there for years on end, growing more jaded to the hope of their parent’s attention. The ones who stayed there year-round grew especially frustrated, and this would lead to the cabin almost never being quiet. There was almost constant tension and conflict from many unhappy demigods, and factions within the group would form.

The cabin was viewed negatively by other demigods, with a fair amount of bullying coming from claimed demigods. These would sometimes put unclaimed demigods in especially demeaning positions, and they would be seen as lesser or even signs of bad luck by others.

Many unclaimed demigods from this cabin joined the Titan Army due to the resentment built up, and this anger led to them either forming incredibly tight-knit bonds with each other, or taking many attempts to destroy each other. These different conflicts led to the cabin being burnt down, injuring and even killing some of the demigods who stayed there. This tragedy is still felt today in the new cabin, where the demigods who were lost in the conflict who had never been claimed have their pictures up in memorial.

Now, the air in the cabin is much easier. Because of the new claiming system, demigods only have to stay in the cabin for a few months at a time as they wait for their new cabins to be built. It is also where visiting demigods and clear-sighted mortals can stay. This energy of familiarity brings a more comforting atmosphere to the cabin, and they are able to stay there as long as they like, even when their cabins are finished.

A sense of family can be felt there, especially from demigods who get to know each other during their shared stay in the cabin. This sense of family can last for lifetimes.

SOME POTENTIAL POWERS:

Pyrokinesis

Immunity to freezing/frostbite

Zoolingualism with swine

Enhanced sense of smell

Proficiency in cooking/baking/brewing

Enhanced healing speed around family

Enhanced strength, stamina, and speed when fighting in their home/estate

Reblog or @/ this blog if this inspires you to make your own champion of Hestia, or to do anything with your OC and this version of Hestia! Thank you "OverAnalyzer" and @themythicalgeek for the request!

[dolphin1812]

The passive-aggressiveness towards the chief justice in the description of the house of the Rue Plumet is kind of funny:

“but behind the pavilion there was a narrow courtyard, and at the end of the courtyard a low building consisting of two rooms and a cellar, a sort of preparation destined to conceal a child and nurse in case of need”

The “in case of need” makes me laugh when it was clearly intended to be used that way, given that the paragraph begins with the note that the chief justice used this place for his mistress.

This detail was hilarious:

“Only the birds beheld this curiosity. It is probable that the linnets and tomtits of the last century gossiped a great deal about the chief justice.”

It simultaneously sets up the house as one tied to nature (it attracts lots of birds) and gives us the image of avian gossip circles.

The house is an escape from the convent. Aside from the general creepiness of it when we first read about it and the comparisons to prisons there, here, Valjean being “condemned” to the galleys is explicitly equated with Cosette being “condemned” to the convent if they’d stayed. This choice offers Cosette freedom, even if she benefited from the convent’s education and the shelter it provided for all of those years.

While “give Cosette freedom” is a noble goal, Valjean’s way of thinking about it is sad. His fear that Cosette will hate him is heartbreaking, and rather than conceptualizing the matter as what’s best for her, he imagines keeping her in the convent as a crime - more specifically, as a “robbery.” Even his relationship with his daughter is analyzed through the lens of his “crime,” with Valjean seeking to avoid being a thief again rather than to act in her best interest. He does do so in the end, and he does love her. The issue is more that his problems with his own self-image (seeing himself as a criminal) affect his ability to provide for Cosette in a way that’s healthy for himself. Cosette still gets the freedom she needs, but Valjean can’t think about that in a way that doesn’t make her rights a reflection of his morality. Worst of all, he doesn’t begin to think about Cosette’s freedom because of something she says or does; he thinks about it because he feels “too happy” in the convent:

“It will be remembered that Jean Valjean was happy in the convent, so happy that his conscience finally took the alarm.”

Leaving the convent is a good thing for Cosette, but unfortunately, it’s a move fueled most of all by Jean Valjean’s lack of self-worth. Having felt happy, he decided that something must be wrong – because how could he feel happy? – and sought to “rectify” whatever it was, with the constant fear that Cosette would hate him lingering in the background.

Moreover, while the house is freer than the convent, it’s not without its problems. Hugo’s phrasing in describing how this house was used for affairs may be funny, but it does reveal this place’s ties to an older social order, one embodied by M Gillenormand. That the house is run down may imply that these ties have eroded, but it’s nonetheless true that Cosette and her father will have to navigate the existing social order here to a much greater extent than in the convent. And having seen what being treated as a “mistress” in this time led to for Fantine, that can be dangerous, too.

Jean Valjean also can’t shake his old habits of isolating himself. Again, these habits are based on legitimate fears to an extent; not having neighbors and having various safehouses shelters him from the scrutiny of others and from the police. At the same time, he himself knows how unlikely it is that anyone’s looking for him after disappearing for so many years, especially with how much age has changed him. It’s difficult to evaluate how much his precautions are reasonable and how much they illustrate his constant need to hide, but they certainly leave both him and Cosette isolated. Being out of the convent may have actually limited her social circle, since she now only has Valjean to talk to instead of having the other pupils as well), and both of them are likely grieving Fauchelevent to some extent. This isolation is, again, understandable, but it’s not good for either of them.

Spoilers below:

The introduction to this house feels so representative of all it comes to be as well. It’s “solemn” and secretive because that’s what Valjean is. A house made to conceal is ideal to him. And yet what it’s supposed to hide is an affair, which is somewhat fitting for the place where Cosette first experiments with romance. The garden not only serves as the site of this, but symbolizes her youth as she enters the “spring” of her life. It combines Valjean’s sad secrecy with her blossoming youth and need for change, just as the plants in a garden transform each season.

[cannondiesel00]

A silly little rant/ramble ever since I was little I got HEAVILY interested in Disney parks (specifically their abandoned parts) and I've just been watching those videos again like heavily not just one video, anyways I've done so many presentations over Disney and the parks and company over the years and like to tell you I am SO DISAPPOINTED that I never got to experience epcot at its height/glory, it's such a shame, because Disney wanted to mature and make the parks better so they basically changed all of Figment which was their mascot practically of the park because they didn't want Mickey in the park, BUT THEY JUST KEPT CHANGING EVERYTHING THAT MADE THEM GOOD, especially taking out the original journey into imagination, not even putting back the dream finder in any variations at all, just that whole area being changed too, and another area of epcot that I think was a shame just due to circumstances they couldn't help, was the wonders of life pavilion, when I tell you I obsessed over cranium command as a 8 year old, I did, like if their sponsorship with met life kept going we probably wouldn't have seen it crash and burn so soon after it opened in 1989, to see it close in 2007 sucks, not that I got to enjoy it because I wasn't even alive back then at any point, but I feel as if they are dragging their parks into the ground in the US at least, because I've seen the shanghai Disney and their zootopia land looks amazing and so detailed orientated, VS what we are getting in the parks in the US now just poor rethemes of areas and not considering what the consumer wants, it just is a shame, I miss when CEO's actually cared deeply about their brand and consumers instead of just wanting to make a shit ton of money that they don't need ૮₍˶ ╥ ‸ ╥ ⑅₎ა I might rant more abt this stuff at some point because I'm deeply back into my hyperfixation again and none of my friends research abt this stuff

[karnimahal]

The Palace on the Lake: Karni Mahal Jaisamand

So you’ve made the trip to Udaipur, the picturesque city of lakes in Rajasthan, India. You’ve seen the grand City Palace, taken a boat ride on Lake Pichola, and wandered the colorful local bazaars. But now you’re looking to escape the crowds for a quieter, more peaceful experience. Time for an excursion to Karni Mahal.

About 45 minutes from Udaipur, in the small town of Jaisamand, sits a hidden gem - an elegant hunting lodge surrounded by the tranquil waters of Jaisamand Lake. Built in the early 1700s, Karni Mahal was once used as a royal summer residence and hunting lodge by the Maharana of Udaipur. Today, it’s open as a heritage hotel where you can surround yourself with historic splendor and enjoy the peaceful setting, with rooms overlooking the lake and Aravali hills.

A stay at Karni Mahal offers a glimpse into the lifestyle of Udaipur’s royalty, with lavish decor, antiques, and architecture at every turn. But it’s the location that will capture your heart - the perfect place to unwind, soak in the beauty, and create memories that will last long after you’ve left the palace on the lake.

The History and Architecture of Karni Mahal

Nestled on the banks of Jaisamand Lake, Karni Mahal is a palace that offers a glimpse into the rich history of Rajasthan. Originally built in the late 18th century, the palace was constructed using yellow sandstone and features beautiful stone carvings, latticed windows, and intricately designed balconies.

The palace has been home to generations of rulers from the Jaisamand princely state. As you explore the palace, you’ll see portraits of rulers, old wooden furniture, hunting trophies, and other artifacts providing insight into royal life. The durbar hall, or royal court, is particularly impressive with its high ceilings, decorative pillars, and chandeliers.

The architecture itself is a highlight. The palace seamlessly blends Rajput and Mughal styles with domed structures, arched gateways, and open courtyards. The lake-facing facades are especially stunning, with balconies and windows that offer serene views of the lake and surrounding hills.

The palace grounds, spanning over 200 acres, are also worth exploring. Well-manicured lawns, flower beds, fruit orchards, and old temples dot the property. Peacocks often roam freely, adding to the regal ambiance. For the best experience, take a guided tour to learn about the history while soaking in the peaceful surroundings.

Whether for its architecture, history, or natural beauty, Karni Mahal offers a memorable glimpse of Rajasthan’s rich cultural heritage. A visit to this lake palace is sure to spark your imagination of a long-gone era of maharajas and royalty.

The Beautiful Gardens and Fountains of Karni Mahal

Once you've toured the grand palace, head outside to explore the sprawling gardens and intricate fountains. The gardens at Karni Mahal are an oasis of colorful flowers, lush greenery and peaceful walkways that seem to go on forever.

As you stroll along the paths, you'll come across the first of two enormous fountains. The larger one features an enormous stone bowl decorated with carvings, continuously overflowing with water. The smaller fountain nearby has three levels, with water trickling down each tier into the pond below. Both are powered completely by gravity, a remarkable feat for the time.

Deeper in the gardens, you'll find a spacious courtyard and pavilion, perfect for relaxing in the shade. The fragrance of frangipani and rose permeates the air as butterflies flutter by. For the best views of the palace towering above the greenery, head to the lookout points at the north and south ends of the gardens.

No matter where your explorations take you, the sounds of splashing water and birds chirping create a sense of peace. With its harmonious blend of nature and human-made beauty, it's easy to see why these gardens were once a place of repose for the royal family.

Today, the gardens of Karni Mahal remain a magical escape from the bustle of everyday life. If you're looking to surround yourself with natural splendor and history, there's no better place than this palace by the lake.

Interesting Facts About Karni Mahal

Karni Mahal is filled with interesting facts and stories from its historic past. Built in the early 1900s, this beautiful palace on the lake has witnessed many events over the centuries.

A Gift From the Maharaja

Maharaja Ganga Singh of Bikaner constructed Karni Mahal as a gift for his wife, Maharani Karni Kumari. The palace was built between 1901 to 1905 on the banks of Lake Fateh Sagar. Its architectural style, known as Indo-Saracenic, blends Indian and Islamic elements. The Maharaja spared no expense in creating an opulent space for the Maharani.

A Place of Leisure

Karni Mahal was used as a royal summer retreat. The Maharaja and Maharani would escape the heat of Bikaner and relax at their lakeside palace. They hosted lavish parties, went boating on the lake, and entertained many notable guests. The palace had numerous rooms, courtyards and verandas which provided ample space for the royal family’s leisure activities. Today, you can still see their marble game boards used to play Pachisi, an ancient game similar to ludo.

Witness to History

Over its lifetime, Karni Mahal hosted many important political meetings and events. In 1919, the palace was the site where the Bikaner royal family signed an instrument of accession to join the Chamber of Princes. In 1925, the Maharaja held a grand reception here to welcome the Prince of Wales on his royal visit. More recently, parts of the Bollywood film Paheli starring Shah Rukh Khan were filmed on location at Karni Mahal. This historic palace continues to enchant visitors with its architectural beauty and stories from the past.

Karni Mahal offers a glimpse into the opulence and lifestyle of Bikaner’s royal family during its golden age. A visit to this palace on the lake is like stepping back in time to experience the fascinating history of the region. No wonder it remains an enduring symbol of Bikaner’s rich cultural heritage.

How to Get to Karni Mahal

Getting to the Karni Mahal in Udaipur is actually quite straightforward. As one of the city’s top attractions, it’s well-connected and easy to find.

By Air

The nearest airport is Maharana Pratap Airport in Udaipur, located just 20 kilometers from Karni Mahal. Once you land, you can take a taxi or hire a private car to drive you the 30 minutes to the palace.

By Train

Udaipur Railway Station is a major stop for trains in Rajasthan. Multiple daily trains connect Udaipur to destinations like Jaipur, Jodhpur, Ajmer, and Delhi. The railway station is only 6 kilometers from Karni Mahal, about a 15 minute taxi or auto-rickshaw ride away.

By Road

Udaipur’s bus stand has regular bus services connecting it to cities in Rajasthan and neighboring states. Luxury coaches, AC busses and sleeper busses are options for the 4 to 6 hour ride from Jaipur or Delhi. Once you arrive at the Udaipur bus stand, Karni Mahal is just 3 kilometers away, a short 10 minute drive.

Getting Around Udaipur

The best way to explore the city and get to Karni Mahal is by taxi, auto-rickshaw or private cab. Udaipur’s attractions are spread around the scenic Fateh Sagar Lake and Old City, so driving between sites is the most efficient option. Fares will range from ₹50 for a short auto-rickshaw ride up to ₹1500 for a full day taxi tour.

The Karni Mahal’s location on the eastern banks of Fateh Sagar Lake means it’s easy to access from all parts of Udaipur. And with multiple modes of transport connecting Udaipur to the rest of India, getting there for your Rajasthan adventure is simple. So pack your bags, book your tickets and set off to explore the Venice of the East and its fairytale Lake Palace.

Conclusion

So there you have it, the magnificent palace on the lake that is Karni Mahal. If you’re looking to experience a slice of Rajasthan’s history in a jaw-dropping setting, this is the place for you. The palace architecture will transport you back in time, while the sparkling lake vistas will soothe your soul. Whether you want to simply wander the halls and ramparts soaking in the ambiance, or participate in one of the cultural events and festivals, Karni Mahal is sure to captivate you. On your next trip to Rajasthan, make sure to schedule in a visit to this hidden gem. You won’t regret discovering the palace on the lake.

[am-i-obsessed---maybe]

Traitor

Luke Castellan x Gender neutral reader

Masterlist

y/n - your name

n/n - nickname

The Hermes cabin was always full, yeah there were other cabins at camp but someone decided that the Hermes cabin would take in all of the unclaimed kids. And of course the gods weren’t huge fans of claiming all of their children once they got to camp so the Hermes cabin was always full. Which is why there were quite a few senior campers in the Hermes cabin, Luke Castellan being one of them. He was an actual son of Hermes and therefore the head counselor but just like the other handful of adult demigods at camp he had his own host of issues. One of which was that he was no longer at camp. Ya he kind of decided to rebel against the gods, he stole Zues’s Master Bolt and is currently trying to revive the old titan Kronos.

 And in all honesty you couldn’t blame him, he was scared, and angry and what else exactly can you do to show a god you were angry at them? Nobody in the Hermes cabin talks about Luke anymore, especially around the older campers, the ones who were very close to him. It’s been a year since he left camp. But what could you do? You still looked up to Luke. He greeted you at camp, he was one of your closest friends and he always had your back. So you missed him, a lot. You still couldn’t do what he asked you to do though. You couldn’t just leave, did you consider it? Maybe, but you couldn’t just turn your back on camp, you loved your demi-family. But what if Luke’s right? What if the best way to protect them was to protect them from the gods?-

“y/n? Y/N!” 

“Huh? Uh yeah!” you squeaked. Travis, your maybe half brother was waving his hand in front of you, trying to get your attention. 

“You good?” He asked. 

“Ya, I’m fine, just thinking…”

“You shouldn’t do that too much, it messes with your brain” 

“You mean think?” you asked, wondering if he was serious or if this was just another joke.

“Ya! It messes with your sense of humor!” stated the brunette. 

“Sure Travis” you told the son of Hermes as you rose from your seat around the Hermes table at the dining pavilion. Oh did I mention that? Because basically everything at camp revolves around the gods, there is no way to escape your godly (or more like lack of a godly) parent. 

“I’ll be on the hill if you need me for my lack of a sense of humor” you told the trickster as you left the dining pavilion. 

Of course in Camp Half-Blood slang, going to the “hill” meant you were going to visit Thalia’s tree on Half Blood Hill. The poor girl was turned into a Pine tree by her father Zues after she died while trying to get to camp. You had never actually met Thalia but Like told you about her, turns out they were really close. 

The only other people who knew Thalia are Annabeth Chase and Grover Underwood but they were currently a bit busy trying to save the world with the newbie hero son of Poseidon.

As you reached Thalia’s tree you took a seat near her roots and looked out at camp. 

“You know Thalia I have a feeling having you here would make this decision a lot easier. You knew Luke better than anybody didn’t you?” 

You always had a connection to the dead which technically included Thalia, they’re just so much easier to talk to than the living.

“What if I did go with him, they deserve it anyway-”

“I’m glad you think that n/n” said a deep voice from behind you.

Turning around you almost screamed in a mix of surprise and fear.

“Luke! What are you doing here?!” You asked the blonde as you got up and hugged him.

“You’re not supposed to be here, do you know what Mr. D would do if someone caught you?” you immediately told him as you looked into his icy blue eyes. 

“Are you going to tell anyone?” He asked.

“Well-” You paused. 

Ya, you should. You should have tried to fight him, he was your enemy after all but you couldn’t bring yourself to even say anything. 

“Please y/n, come with me. Imagine us, destroying olympus, getting the revenge we’ve always wanted-”

“You’ve always wanted.” You corrected. 

“I miss you Luke, the Hermes cabin isn’t the same without you but I, I can’t hurt their hearts. They need me.”

“They need you to protect them from the gods, we’ll make the world a better place for them!” He explained, trying to convince you.

“I, I know you have to do this so I’m not gonna stop you but I can’t join you. Not today.” You told him as you looked at his scar. A scar he got while on a quest for the gods.

“I love you Luke, good luck” You said as you kissed his cheek and turned your back to him, walking back down Half-Blood hill towards camp.

...

You hadn’t seen Luke since he showed up at camp last summer. Currently it was December and you had two more important things to worry about that last summer’s surprise visitor. 

The first of which was named Nico Di Angelo. The new unclaimed kid that arrived at camp with Percy Jackson, Grover Underwood and the Hunters Of Artemis in Apollo’s sun school bus (Ya it was a weird day). His older sister joined the hunters and left on a quest the day after they all arrived at camp, leaving the poor kid on his own in the Hermes cabin. 

The second problem was the weird dreams that you’d been having recently. A lot of raising the dead in the light of the moon and a woman covered in mist trying to reach out to you. But at the moment you had to make sure that Nico was alright. It was only his second day at camp and you wanted to make him feel welcomed. 

“Hey Nico, how are you!” you asked the young boy who was looking through a deck of cards that seemed to interest him more than his breakfast. 

“I’m okay” He responded, not seeming too happy or angry or sad.

“Did you sleep well?” You asked the young demigod.

“Ya, but Conner snores” He commented, finally putting down his cards.

“He does that sometimes” You said, chuckling lightly. 

“Hey if you’re in the Hermes cabin does that mean that he’s your dad?” the young boy asked innocently. 

“Oh no, I’m like you. My godly parent hasn’t claimed me yet” You explained taking a bite out of your breakfast. 

“So, I might never get claimed?” He asked and the look on his face was almost pitiful as his eyes looked for any shred of hope. 

“Don’t worry, most demigods get claimed. I’m sure you’ll find out who your godly parent is soon enough” You told him, putting your hand on his shoulder in an attempt to reassure the young boy.  

“Then why haven’t you been claimed yet?” He asked.

“Well it’s probably because I don’t really go on quests so there’s no need to claim me but I know you’re going to be a great warrior.” you told him but you knew it was false. Quests have nothing to do with being claimed but you couldn’t tell Nico that. It would break his heart. 

“I have an idea, why don't we go get you a weapon after breakfast. Then you would have something to do during your free time” You suggested, Nico might have been a bit young for a weapon of his own but it was important to give him something to distract from his sister’s quest.

“Cool! Do you think I can get a sword like Percy's?” The boy asked.

“I’m sure we could find you something,” you told him, trying to keep the mood light but your mind was starting to drift off again. 

All you could think of was that woman. She was covered in mist but you could make out her long flowing hair and a torch she held in her hand. If you remembered correctly she also had a large dog standing regally beside her. You wondered who she was, was she a goddess wanting to send you on a quest? Or maybe just a figment of your imagination? A distant memory of your mother perhaps? Either way you had to figure out what she wanted from you. 

Once breakfast was over you headed with Nico to the weapons shed to find him a big magic sword, per his request. Unfortunately you had a feeling he could barely hold a normal sized sword let alone a big heavy magical one so you ended up giving him the smallest sword you could find. It wasn’t a dagger but it was shorter than other swords and even that was a bit heavy for the young demigod as he slightly dragged it to the arena. 

You suggested starting to learn the basic forms using a wooden sword but Nico was too excited so carefully he raised his swords and you began to explain where his feet need to be and why. 

After a few hours of training Nico had some of the basics down and was practicing a basic thrust and peri motion when you suddenly felt a tingle in your neck, you thought it was just the cold but slowly it began to get misty and you saw the form of the woman from your dreams appear.

“Come to the woods at dusk” She said, but Nico didn’t even flinch at her ominous voice. Could he not hear her? 

“I shall help you choose which way to cross” Continued the woman as she and her fog began to disappear. 

...

The conch horn blew signalling its time for dinner but you headed towards the woods opposite of the dining pavilion. It was dusk and the woman had told you to meet her in the woods so you did. Was it possibly dangerous? Yes. Was it stupid to go withput telling anyone? Also yes, but this was your mystery to solve and wouldn’t risk possibly endangering the other campers. 

As you walked through the woods you wondered where exactly you should be going to meet this mystery woman but as you went deeper into the woods more fog surrounded you and you assumed that it was at least somehow connected to the woman with the torch. 

As you kept walking you found yourself in a small circular clearing with three paths out all leading in different directions. 

In the middle of the clearing was the woman, only now you saw her clearly. 

She was pale and slender, wearing a red tunic with a torch in one hand, sword in the other, a dog standing loyally by her side. 

“Who are you?” You asked, keeping a safe distance away from her.

“I am Hecate, goddess of crossroad and the mist.” Answered the woman.

“And I am here to help you, my child, understand the new crossroad you have found yourself at.” She continued and you weren’t sure how to react. You knew a little about Hecate but from what you knew she wasn’t one of the 12 Olympians. She was a minor goddess responsible for making sure the mist hid the secrets of the mythical world from mortals. But other than that you didn’t know much about her, the only myth you heard about her was that she helped light Demeter’s way after Hades kidnapped Persephone. 

“Why now?” You asked, anger slightly dripping from your voice. “Why would you tell me this now? And what crossroad are you talking about?” 

“You are facing an important decision y/n, do you stay at camp and help your friends fight the son of Hermes or do you join him and betray your friends and the gods who give you your safety? I understand it is a difficult choice” 

“YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND ANYTHING! I’m sorry. But you could never understand. I have to choose who to betray and no matter what I do I’ll be hurting someone I love” You explained as a tear slid down your cheek. 

“I love Luke, and I want to help him, I want to hurt the gods who caused us so much pain. I really do but that would mean stabbing my family in the back. I would never be able to come back here if I did that.” 

“Sweet child, it sounds like you have already made up your mind then,” Hecate said, putting her sword and torch down. “Join Luke, wreak chaos on mount olympus and show them that you cannot be ignored any longer.” The goddess said, bringing you into her warm embrace.

“I shall show you the ways of magic and you shall show the olympians your true power. After all, without the gods your family here would welcome you back with open arms."

[deerestapologies]

5 times you called him by a pet name + one time he called you by a pet name

(Diluc + Zhongli x GN!Reader)

Diluc

1. "Oh, hey hon." You greet mildly.

The candles have begun burning a bit low, the long shadows making his pout even more obvious.

"I apologize, I was held up for longer than anticipated."

He produces a small bouquet from his coat, a cluster of wildflowers, and approaches like he's about to give an offering instead of a gift. He kneels by your chair, face stoic as usual, but you can see the worry and shame in his eyes.

You twirl the stems to absorb their delicate scent, and then carefully drop them in your water glass. You cup his face in your hands, and press a kiss to his brow.

"It's okay." You kiss his brow again, "I am not mad." You kiss his nose. "I am hungry though."

You laugh lightly at his rush to sit across from you. An evening eating cold roast was worth being able to spend it with him.

-

2. "I understand your frustration, but perhaps we had best move on." You place a hand on his crossed arms.

"Their behavior was unacceptable, especially for those who would call themselves knights."

The stubborn clench of his jaw tells you just how angry he is. The idiots were lucky to have only gotten the verbal bludgeoning earlier instead of the literal one he wanted to dish out.

"Yes, but you've already made them apologize, and they do seem repentant," the fool knights in training nod frantically, "so why not leave this mess for Kaeya, darling?"

He sighs, but loosens his posture to wrap a protective arm around you. The hell the Knights were going to catch for this was still to come, but at least no one lost any limbs. Yet.

-

3. Tucked into your pile of pillows, book in hand, you waited as you do most nights. Diluc had a late meeting scheduled after dinner, but he promised it was truly to do with the winery and not of the vigilante variety.

So you bide your time, until you hear his heavy boots come up the stairs.

"I'm home." He calls softly.

"Welcome back." You say just as softly.

He goes through the motions of undressing, refreshing himself, and redressing without missing a beat, but his posture seems wilted. You mark your page, and turn over the blanket for him.

"How did it go?"

He heaves a deep sigh, and crawls over to you. Pulling you close, he lays his head on your chest but doesn't say another word.

"Oh, sweetness." You embrace him, one hand holding his face and the other in his hair. "It's okay. I've got you."

-

4. You lengthen your steps, but the increased pace doesn't seem to deter the boy following you. He isn't dangerous per se, but his persistence is damned annoying.

"But, if you'll just listen," he jogs back up to your side, "I just need your help for a little while!"

"I am neither a Knight nor an Adventurer," you cut him off with a sharp wave of your hand, "And you have nothing I want. Now leave me be."

He sputters, "M-master Diluc said-"

As if he's had his tongue plucked out, he suddenly stops talking.

You turn around only to find Diluc himself, a stifling hand on the kid's shoulder. His face is a stoic mask as always, but his energy is thunderous.

"I agreed to help you out of deference to your mother, but you," You see the boy wince as the hand tightens, "failed to listen to a word I said. Harassing my staff and my partner has only earned you banishment from all of my properties. Now go, before I report you to the Knights as well."

You both stand stock still as the boy sprints from the winery back to Mondstadt proper.

"Your going to report him anyways, right?" You mumble, after he is just a speck on the horizon.

"Of course," He finally relaxes his stance to look at you, "Though I doubt Jean will be happy about it."

Your chuckle, already imagining her face when the letter reaches her desk. Heaving a sigh, just grateful for the problem to have moved on, you grab Diluc's hand.

"Thank you," You pull him into a tight hug, "for protecting me as always, angel."

-

5. You gently rap on the door frame to his office. He looks up from his work just long enough to give you a soft smile.

"I was wondering," You lean against the frame, avoiding actually entering lest you get sucked in as well, "If my dear husband was going to come to bed tonight?"

The bright lamp on his desk means you see his blush even from across the room. He huffs an embarrassed laugh, but starts shuffling paperwork into orderly piles.

"I hadn't realized the time, my apologies."

You hum, "It is understandable. But I cannot rest if you are not in bed with me."

You watch as he tucks away his tools, pulls his gloves off, and undoes the tie in his hair, all with a much to pleased smirk on his face.

He pulls you into a delicate, lingering kiss with a hand on your neck. The warmth of his skin makes you shiver. You lean into him, letting him wrap you in his arms.

He chuckles, "Well, I would hate to neglect my husbandly duties."

+

1. The lingering warmth from your bath and the softness of the sheets has you dozing in minutes. You toss a hand onto Diluc's side of the bed, wanting to be present when he comes to bed as well but the ache of a long day is catching up to you.

After several moments you feel a calloused hand grasp your own. You are too tired to properly see, but feel the dip as he climbs into bed.

Still holding your hand in a delicate grip, he presses a kiss to your palm, and then your cheek.

"Sleep, my love, I am here."

Zhongli

1. Zhongli re-enters the house not even ten minutes after leaving. He is patting down his jacket and looking about the entryway in wonder, and you can't help but chuckle.

"Forget something?"

"Yes," he plants his hands on his hips, "I can't seem to find my wallet. I could have sworn I remembered it this time."

You get up from where you were leisurely awaiting his return, and snag the 'disappearing' wallet from where he left it on the table.

"Not quite, old man." You wave it, teasing.

"Ah, of course."

Tucking it into the pocket of his jacket, you tug him closer to plant a kiss on his flushed cheek.

"My apologies, it seems I was a bit distracted this morning."

He tucks a piece of hair away from your face, gaze so blatantly loving you can't help but crash your lips against his. Damn whatever appointment he may have, he shouldn't be so handsome in your direction.

-

2. It is not every day you wake up before him, so you try to make the most of it. You prepare his clothes for the day, just so you can pick out your favorite of his shirts. You start a light breakfast, and brew an energizing blend of tea for both of your sake.

You spend some time simply waiting at the table, content to sip your tea and watch the morning birds.

When the soft shuffle of feet brings Zhongli into the kitchen, you stand up. He is mostly dressed, minus his tie and shoes, jacket loose around his shoulders.

You steer him to the table, and press a kiss to his cheek when seated.

He hums contentedly, still a bit sleepy, "Good morning."

You pour him a cup of tea as well, and his smile grows a bit wider. He tilts his head up, "Thank you."

You meet him half way, pressing a firm kiss to his mouth, "Of course dearest. Do you have anything pressing today?"

A hand comes to rest on your hip, preventing you from moving back to your seat.

"No, nothing more important than this."

-

3. Squished between the mattress and the press of his body, you couldn't imagine being more content. The warmth, the scent, the feel of his breath ghosting across your skin.

You run a reverent hand through his hair, spread loose over his back. It seems impossible for you to be this happy, like you would only read about in unrealistic fantasies.

Amber eyes are already watching you, when you open yours. His gaze is soft, unbearably so, so you look at the ceiling.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

He answers it so easily, as if it is among the many universal truths that exist in his head.

"You must understand," You wet your nervous mouth, "I mean it. Truly, I love you."

You feel his head tilt in confusion, but power on, emotions spilling.

"You are my starlight. My life would be unimaginably dark without you. I am scared constantly by the sway you have over me, but I cannot stand the idea of living without you. I want be here with you, forever, no matter the cost."

You squeeze your eyes shut against the flood of tears that threaten to spill, waiting for his polite retreat. His body lifts off yours and you pull a shuddering breath in, unused to laying yourself bare in this way. He could end you now, destroy you by just walking away.

But you feel tremoring hands grasp your face, almost too tightly. He doesn't say a word, can't, but presses his forehead to yours.

-

4. "Zhongli?" You call into the empty hum of the parlor, hoping it will carry to his office. It's not far, but he gets absorbed in his work easily.

You lean out the door a bit, and try to project your voice more, "Hey, honey?"

The door to his office clicks open, and his head pokes out. "Do you need assistance?"

"Yes, please," you adjust the pile of books in your arms, "Would you mind grabbing this other pile? A client requested reference material from just about every era, and I don't think I have the wing span to carry all of it."

He presses a quick kiss to your head, and scoops up the remaining books with no problem.

"Of course, would you like me to relieve you of those as well?"

"Not a chance, show off, you're gonna have to deal with the doors."

As if to prove your point, he balances the stack in one hand to hold the front door open for you, smile only slightly smug.

-

5. Given how busy your lives were, and his propensity for letting time fly, you figured he would forget again. It would not be the first anniversary he forgot, and you imagine it wouldn't be the last.

It's not like you could hold it against him, especially not when he was so earnest and loving all year round.

So your surprise was genuine when he led you, dressed in his best, to a private booth at Liuli Pavilion.

The food was made by the head chef, as a show of gratitude for Zhongli's long patronage (you send a quiet thank you to Childe), and the service superb. The evening is relatively quiet, you converse as normal but with the additional soppiness that comes from acknowledging romance.

You are especially glad for the privacy when you cannot help but practically ravish the man over the table, his face being too handsome to bear just looking at.

Shortly after, he looks at you with burning eyes, and finally says, "I am quite full. Perhaps we should head home."

"That sounds perfect."

You continue to stare, sappy and sated, as he blindly pats at his pockets, equally unwilling to look away.

After several moments, it dawns on you, and then immediately on him.

You can't help it. You laugh. Hysterically, because no matter what Zhongli is Zhongli.

He's standing now, flustered like you've never seen, pacing the room as if his wallet would be anywhere but the table at home.

"This was not my intent." He huffs, "I had planned the evening meticulously."

"And it was lovely," You choke back another laugh, "But, sugar, you are not living this down for the rest of our lives!"

You are laughing as you pull out your own wallet, giggling uncontrollably as you hand over all the money on your person, and can barely walk you're so light headed when he leads you out the door.

He doesn't once let you go, from the pavilion's steps to your front door. Indulgent to the end, your man.

+

1. It is always a pleasant surprise when your errands overlap. Working nearly in conjunction makes it happen quite often, but still, it makes your day brighter.

You have just finishing bartering your lunch into existence when you spot Zhongli headed your way. Quickly, you slip the chef a few more mora to add another dish.

He is at your side in an instant, bringing your hand to his lips in that coquettish way he has.

"There you are," he lowers your hand but does not drop it, "I've been looking for you, treasure."

You twine your fingers together, relishing the warmth. You snug up to his side, taking the liberty of placing his hand on your hip just to see him blush.

"Have you now?"

"Always."

[hyukmoon]

moon. | l.sy x gn!reader

lee sangyeon x gn!reader

word count: about 4.01k

to put it short: congrats! Something you should actually say, right? Your best friend and crush is getting married in two days and you feel,... well, not very good about it. So, wait... he's returning the feelings? Damn.

content warning: ANGST in capital letters, I would add lots of exclamation points but im lazy. So yeah, hella angsty. Some good old making out, it's kind of heavy at some point but no smut at this point lol. I don't condone any of the done actions, so yeah, I would've personally handled everything differently, but you know, y/n is kinda wild. Very awkward sometimes, but that's more the situation in itself. ALSO, NOT PROOFREAD

taglist: @loki-in-hogwarts

note: the second thing i wrote and im somewhat excited!!! Yes! Exclamation points. So,... thanks for reading :)

It was a great day. Well, at least seemingly for everyone but you. Your best friend in this world Sangyeon was about to get married to the love of his life, who is notyou and now you just stand in the hotel lobby waiting for it to happen. Funnily enough, the crushing feeling of desperation and fear didn’t seem to set in yet.

The hotel lobby was filled to the brim with acquaintances and other guests possibly confused by the uproar of the wedding guests. So, who were you specifically waiting for? The rest of your friend group, the ones who will most likely clean up after the wedding whatever will be left of you.

A nervous smile swept up to your lips, casually just avoiding every sort of tension that could come across you. Just with the luck of this entire occurrence an older woman started to approach you, demon alike features spreading around her face almost like she knew you were apparently the only single person here. An aunty, that wasn’t even related to you but had all the business to judge.

“Are you here for the bride or the groom?”, her sweet voice rang a familiar feeling in your stomach. Almost too sweet, making you suspicious of her intent. “I’m here for my best friend, Sangyeon. So, yeah, for the groom.”, you hesitated a second, “What about you though? Do you know the bride?”

“She’s my youngest niece, the only one that still visits, her sisters don’t even care anymore…” You nodded politely, not wanting to anger her now and stepped towards a different direction.

“So, my dear, are you here with anybody?” You already feared that question, the same as always. The eyes of yours started with a panicked expression searching through the room a familiar pair. “No, I am here on my own. I kinda wanted to focus on getting Sangyeon through with it, being there for him.” As a friend.

Possibly this was the first part of feeling despair and fear. People at this wedding were really waiting for them to get married. They weren’t joking, this would change everything.

“Ah, I see. You know, get over him. Well, it is time for you at least, you’re not getting younger. There are quite few handsome men here. I remember the names Juyeon and ah yes! Kevin, get over here!” As far as you were concerned, your facial expression couldn’t possibly look more stunned than a moment ago, yet another one of your good friends appeared, seemingly just as confused.

This only held on for a good second, Kevin knew exactly what to do. “Oh hi, I’m so sorry to steal [Y/N] away from you, but I actually need to talk to them on my own over a gift we both prepared for the couple!”, he grinned at the lady, who was obviously smitten with him. “Yes, of course, hun. Take your time.” She finally hushed into a separate direction.

“So, how are we doing? You seem kinda… stressed.”

“You don’t say”, you sighed, “if I have to go through a conversation like this again today, believe me I’ll-. “

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I get the sentiment. Even though I meant more the other situation. Like in, Sangyeon getting married and you sitting here all grumpy because of it.”, Kevin was already aware of your “small” infatuation with your best friend, a man too far out of your reach also funnily enough, the man’s wedding you’re attending. However, your friend in front of you didn’t seem to mind talking about it out loud in a place like the hotel lobby. Your lips tightened up into a fine line.

“I’m not grumpy! I just…I don’t really know what to do. I mean, I know I’m going to be there for him but yeah, okay, I might feel a bit grumpy.” The lobby did clear up a lot now.

“Okay, oof. There’s this dinner with everyone in the evening today, do you think you can get through that?”, Kevin asked hesitantly just as stressed with this additional complication.

“I mean, I probably have to, don’t I? This makes me so sick, ugh. Not gonna lie, my stomach feels like a laundry machine.” You laughed quietly and drifted off again into a place where you didn’t need to think about this.

“What did you really expect though? You know I love you, respectfully, but like, this feels like an incredibly bad move to do.”

“Don’t you think it would be worse if I didn’t show up at all? I’ll just need to go through this weekend and I’m outta here. No one will know anything.” It might feel like a nightmare but at least a nightmare you can actually run away from and not actually have to face at some point.

“Well, I hope you’ll keep your confidence. Because imagine I saw the person, I love getting married to someone else. Oh my, believe me, you wouldn’t find me for the next three weeks.”

“Not very helpful, a good three out of ten. I guess, I’ll just stick to sulking around then.” A dead smile crept up your lips following a stern look from your side at your opposite.

“Seems like a good plan, just stick to me, maybe we will find someone to take your attention away from this, huh?” A sly grin was visible on Kev’s face.

“Ughhh, of course. Let’s do this. It can’t get much worse than that”, you cleared your throat, “thanks, though. You actually make this here somewhat bearable.”

“Awww, come on. We should pack out our suitcases.”

No one can really prepare someone for a moment like this. Most older folk turned into their hotel rooms which left you in a party like situation seeing your closest friends turning it up in a huge pavilion while the future groom sits comfortably on a velvety sofa hand in hand with his fiancée.

The air was quite warm even at this time of the evening, not humid, just warm enough for everyone to taste the end of this era with nostalgia and a slight feeling of energy to experience what’s to come afterwards.

You as well sat down, continuously processing your environment. With a cup of your favorite drink, you felt invincible, nothing able to shake you down.

Now while this wasn’t a preferred environment, this was manageable; you could look your best friend into his eyes and proudly congratulate him on his wedding. You would be able to get over this and continue to be a great friend. Black hair with an intense facial expression made its way into your viewpoint along with a somewhat tipsy Kevin. Simultaneously the lighter hair of your best friend fought his way through the crowd.

Lee Sangyeon, the man lighting up your mood with simple touch of his fingertips was now signalizing for you to head outside towards the veranda of the pavilion. He exuded patience, yet clearly waiting for a response of you. You nodded and brushed cautiously over your evening attire.

“Hii, [Y/N]! Can I introduce this someone to you? This is Juyeon, he might look a bit intense, but he’s really nice to talk to! So, I’m gone for a sec then!” Kevin started drifting off into a different direction where you stopped him in his tracks.

“Could this wait? Sangyeon needs to talk to me. I think it’s important, I’ll come back though in a bit!” You gifted both of them an apologetic face and made your way around the men towards the going to be groom.

Surely it wasn’t exactly clear why he wanted to speak to you, especially on his own. He was still waiting for you after all.

“[Y/N]! What has it been? Like three? Four months? I missed you so much.”, Sangyeon pulled you into his chest abruptly and sighed softly into your shoulder. Engulfed entirely in his figure you never wanted to wake up from this again. Was it now 10 seconds? 15 seconds? Neither he nor you really seemed to let go, taking in all the scents of his that were formerly familiar to you.

“Yeah, I think so. You were probably busy planning this all and I just had to work, I guess.” Trying to keep it short was your main goal, appearing distant maybe. He didn’t mind at all though. Not discouraged from continuing this conversation Sangyeon pointed at the veranda, showing the only speck of space with little to no crowd.

The veranda was close to closed off to the party. Non distinguishable palm trees in the far distance were playing right into your cards for not having to look into his eyes. Magnetically glowing, that’s how he appeared. All happy and smiley about the obvious luck he was experiencing. Now again, he sat down with you in the beach chairs without loosing a word.

“The palm trees are so pretty. You remember me wanting to buy some new plants?”, you tried to invite him to the conversation.

“You always want to buy new plants, which time do you mean?” Sangyeon grinned to himself. “You know what? It’s so weird. Everything feels still so unreal. This wedding, also you at my wedding… So weird.”

“I am literally your best friend, where else should I be? Your funeral? At home? Who else is going to charm the hotel staff for some free capri suns and new towels?” Your mouth crinkled up and you let out a soft laugh.

“[Y/N] … You know exactly what I mean!”

“Noo, not at all. I’m so confused right now, not gonna lie.” Your face finally moved towards his direction, seeing his gentle gaze resting on you.

“Do you remember when we were still in school, and we promised each other we would marry each other if we didn’t find anybody else?” His gaze got more intense with each sentence.

“Yeahh, kind of. I was probably tired and it’s like ten years ago. I’m not really sure what you’re trying to tell me.”

“I really thought I was going to marry you. For several years, actually.”, he laughed. “I had such a crush on you and then you met your s/o and all that. Ughh, it seemed so complicated back then. Kind of weird to think about what could have happened if I did ask you out or something.”

“True.”, you turned away again standing up and resting against the wooden railing of the pavilion. “But you didn’t so, let’s just drop it there.” The weather as well started rebelling a bit, the wind hugging your figure slightly too tight for your taste.

“Why are you so cold all of a sudden?”, he whispered closely behind you.

“Well, you’re getting married tomorrow. And you’re telling me about a crush you had on me?”, you croaked.

“I was just being nostalgic, I thought this would be fine with you.” Sangyeon appeared now next to you on the railing, waiting for you to face his concerned dark eyes.

“It isn’t for me. It just feels wrong.”

“What feels so wrong about it? It was a long time ago.”

It is here, the bitterness. Bitterness shouldn’t even be the correct term, the pain of your heart going into a slump didn’t feel like a fitting word. Being reminded again that you will never have a chance again.

“Wait or is it not a long time ago for you?”, The voice of his tried to word his next sentence very carefully.

“I went out with them because I thought you were joking. Then when I thought about you, it was always different. It was too late though, you met her.” Only the close ocean along with the wind were hearable, neither you nor he were able to form another thought put into a sentence.

“You could’ve told me. I would’ve-.”

“Broken up with her?”

“No, I-.”

“Then what could you have done?”, you interrupted Sangyeon’s rambling, trembling while speaking. Terribly spiteful with a bite that wasn’t too often dripping down your lips.

“This.” Sangyeon pressed a fluttery kiss against your lips. Slender fingers tapped onto the skin right under your chin, signalizing you to look at him.

The now much calmer atmosphere made you snake your arms around his torso. Heat rose towards your head, longing after a second out in the cold again just to see his lovely facial expression. Your lips broke off and touched once more in an almost hypnotic fashion.

His hot breath started sliding downwards your cheek to your neck, physically making you unable to resist his entrancing presence. Also his hands broached over from your face down to your waist, holding you with the lightest touch.

Sangyeon’s lips darted away from yours, catching you staring deeply into his eyes. The silence felt warm now as well, filled with the slow and recovering breath of the participants.

“[Y/N], I think I still feel that way.”, a rosy blush swept over the man’s face you wanted to hear say these things so many times and so long ago.

“No. No. No. You shouldn’t! I shouldn’t either! I have to go.” The reality of the situation caught up to you. This was bad. Incredibly bad. Still the disgusting feeling of hope within this made its way up to your head. Stinging alongside the feeling of remorse, you didn’t think clearly, especially now, next to him.

You darted in the fastest way possible from the pavilion up to the hotel to your room, leaving him there.

Today should be the final day. The hopes that already should have been buried a long time ago, crawled up again and clawed its way into your mind. What if he leaves her for you today? Like in those unrealistic rom coms. Yes, again, it was unrealistic.

Leaving her at the altar and running after you. While all those thoughts of hope and wishes came together you found yourself with a stomachache. His fiancée was an incredibly nice person, sweet and kind along with being a beauty. You shouldn’t even dare to think about Sangyeon that way anymore, she deserved a lot more. Quite honestly, you felt pathetic. Who were you to run into their possible future?

Just because of a simple brush over the lips, his eyes staring into yours like no one else existed but you and his soft hands delicately touching your waist. A tap on your shoulder put you out of your trance, “[Y/N]? Can you go up to Sangyeon’s room? He asked for you.” Kevin’s eyes glanced at you with uncertainty. Neither you nor he knew why he wanted to see you.

Even more importantly, why did he need to see you alone? This seemed like dangerous territory after, basically yesterday. Agony rose again, what if he really was going to leave her?

“Sure, I don’t know why he wants to see me again though.”, you said and left to see the groom’s room. You stumbled more and more over every step closer to the door of the man who’s going to rip your heart and air out of your lungs. The normally soft laid out carpet felt in this moment like you were stepping barefoot over glass. There was the door, brightly painted in eggshell paired with the digits of the hotel room.

Before you could reach the door to knock on it, light brown waves greeted your overtly surprised face.

“You clean up well.”, Sangyeon’s rang in your ears clearer than freshly hung-up laundry in your nose. His previously concerned face curled up into a faint smile.

“Same goes for you”, you tried your best to hide the very apparent frog in your throat, “So, why do you need me?”

“Just needed to see you before going out there, I guess.”, his voice got a lot quieter. It got silent.

Not sure if a said word was necessary, you plopped down on a small, velvety stool. Every whisper was to be heard. An otherness surrounded Sangyeon, like he wasn’t there anymore, and his thoughts took over his being. You scooted closer towards him, just wanting to see him up close for the last time like this, smelling his earthy cologne from this distance.

“Why are you doing this to me?”, your voice went close to hoarse after the question. He was just as silent as before. No sound, nothing. This torment of a weekend was supposed to end with no gratification, not feeling free from this feeling on your chest? Your hand slid over his, the most desperate attempt to get his attention while also experiencing his touch again. Sangyeon jerked his hand back and returned to his absent posture.

“Why do you want to hurt me like this? I am your best friend, and you use me like I’m nothing.” The lack of power you had now made you sink down to the beige teddy carpet. Small tears started swelling up in your nearly dry eyes, kind of contradictory, yet the more tear drops rolled down your cheeks the rottener and hollow you felt.

“You were my best friend until you-.”, he stopped midsentence, “made me feel things again I didn’t need, I didn’t want.” Also his face was wet, ridden with tears making his usually calm and cheerful persona look like a painful insult.

“You asked me here. It hurts, Sangyeon. I can’t make it stop hurting, I don’t know what to do”, you reached for him again, “Could I ever be enough for you?” He returned your former attempts to stroke your face. Cornering both of you, the air trapped you in the toxins of heartbreak and hopelessness.

Once again, Sangyeon’s hand glid over your soft skin and halted on your face. Glaringly staring into each other’s eyes, you were there again. The day before, yesterday. Close to baring the soul of each person present.

“[Y/N], it’s not about being enough. It never has been. I have made a commitment I already broke, I…I can’t do this”, he sighed, “you know I love her.”

“I thought you loved me as well.” Overwhelming nothingness overruled you, almost scaring you about this reaction. You weren’t crying, yelling nor having any physical reaction at all. It was convincingly numb; the resting hurt would come later. Sangyeon’s head dropped in the dip of your shoulder and neck.

This sort of closeness would never happen again. You feeling him breathing into you while having his comforting heartbeat close to yours.

“I do, but I can’t do this to her. I would never do this to her.”, he whispered into your shoulder. A sigh came from his side.

“Then, please. Kiss me, for the last time.” The last part of the sentence left a disgustingly bitter taste in your mouth. This was over, right? His head, which was formerly resting on your shoulder, drifted up and towards yours. Also his expression blank and hollow, like he didn’t know anything.

For the last time, his hands cupped your face in a comfortable manner. As always, he felt homely, but he surely wasn’t yours ever. Not even waiting a good second or two, the light brunette’s face came closer to yours. With no hesitation both of your lips touched tenderly, releasing every sort of affection that could be expressed at that second. You inhaled again his intoxicating scent, in the hopes of having him all over you. His now reddened lips moved closer towards your jawline making you gasp for air.

Also, you weren’t completely still, constantly shifting your hands up and down over his torso upwards his neck, desperately feeling everything, you can for the last time. Sangyeon’s locks tickled you softly while he suddenly latched his mouth onto your neck right below your ear.

“No. Please, I just want a kiss on my lips.”, you said lowly, closely resembling a whine afterwards. He complied pretty quickly, leaving you with no thought but him tickling your bottom lip with his warm tongue. With him being this fast, you didn’t want to keep him on his toes. Entirely engaged in this moment, hands surprised you again on your waist, wandering closer and closer under the blouse you were wearing. You moaned into the kiss, making him take the opportunity to maneuver his tongue into your mouth.

Similarly to you, he was also stunned for a short moment when you grabbed up onto some strands of hair. A sigh left his now plump lips, a need of fresh air arrived onto both of you. Yet this was short lived, his hands captured your chin and attached his lips again onto yours in a matter of mere seconds. A bell rang, close footsteps to be heard across the floor reminding you of the situation you were in.

“Why am doing this? I am so sorry.”, you broke off his lips and took a step backwards at the door.

“[Y/N], we both did this, and it won’t happen again. We just need some time without each other. I think it would be for the best if we don’t spend time together alone anymore.”

“Are you doing what I think you’re doing? I don’t know what to say. I-.”, His lips captured yours again fast with a lot more force behind his kiss.

A strong arm shut the about to be opened door again and hovered over your head. The other one caught grabbed your chin with an almost contradictory feeling to it, the lightest touch just to shove you into his direction. You sighed into his lips, waiting for him to commit with his tongue one more time. Buttery lips pressed against yours and clang inside your mouth. Fiercely did your tongues meet, ending with him sucking on yours. Wet cheeks batting against each other with no intent of separating, your movement still came to a halt.

“You know what? I hate this. I want you to be happy, then if it is with her, I will just y’know…go or uhm mind my business.”, you slurred the last part. It wasn’t really one of your most prideful moments. Still flushed with tears and embarrassment you dropped again against the room door.

“I ask for one condition though,” incredibly hearse was your voice after the crying and even more so because of your follow up, “I do not not want to see you for some time, I don’t want to have to see your face ever again.” Tears weren’t anymore swelling up in your eyes, they never seemed to stop running down with no chance of leaving this conversation with an ounce of self-respect and pride.

It wasn’t even really much of a problem to leave him behind for a bit, it most likely would be for the best anyway, yet while his words should only leave a small mark and feel like a ripped off band aid, you felt alone. A sense of loneliness crept stealthily into you leaving you with nothing but a severe feeling of dread.

“If that is what you want, I’ll respect that.” The room got quieter till you heard the last of his words: “Of course, I still want you in on my wedding though, you’re still my best friend.” Sangyeon’s usual soft and kind smile appeared on his face, seemingly reaching you an olive branch. The former assertiveness and confidence drained through the conversation; you were nothing but a wreck.

“Alright, I’ll be there.”

The ceremony was beautiful. Fairy like flowers were hung all across the beach space, making the place more surreal than it was to begin with. Everything light with a hint of light green and an even lighter lavender tone. The air seemed to have evaporated all the tension and sadness from your face. All across the seats were relatives and friends sitting with a nervously happy face. Ironically, he really thought it was going to be you someday.

“You’re [Y/N], right? Everyone always tried to introduce me to you. Now we’re sitting next to each other at Sangyeon’s wedding together! I’m Juyeon by the way.”

[specsforwoo]

Son of Morpheus | Demigod!Lee Jeno

Parent Deity: Morpheus (God of Dreams and Human Dreamers)

Allegiance: Hypnos

This boy loves to sleep

Like LOVES to sleep

He could be found sleeping anywhere

High key his mom found him sleeping on the kitchen floor one day

And ever since he was little

He was able to remember his dreams with intense detail

His family just thought it was a 4 year old’s imagination running wild

Until the night terrors started

He was tormented with them

They started around the time he was 7

They still happen today, just much less in frequency

But when he was younger

They were really bad

Like he would wake up screaming and crying

And it took ages for him to calm down

It got to the point that his mom was considering taking him to a child psychiatrist

He found a way to calm himself though

He began drawing out scenes from his dreams

No matter what they are

Light and airy or nightmarish

It helped him cope in a way

Life continued on

And he started opening up to his mom about his dreams

He talked about a young man with tan skin and dark curly hair

And wings of a white warblers

He told stories of epic battles

Of courtrooms filled with music and sleeping bodies

Of sleepless nights talking with a man sitting on the moon

Jeno couldn’t tell if he was scared of the man or not

As he entered middle school

He started being able to interpret his dreams

Other’s dreams too

He kept it a secret though

It terrified him

He learned to accept this too

As he did everything else

But then he learned he could predict others dreams

And it scared the shit out of him

He told his best friend, Jaemin first

Jaemin just gave him this knowing look and took him to his mom

His mom sat him down

And for the first time in his 14 years of life

His mother pulled out a photo of his father

And he was shocked

It was the curly haired man that he saw every night in his dreams

Sitting there next to his mother in a cafe in Greece

He was fucking confused

Like really fucking confused

Until it clicked

That was his dad

His dad had wings of a garbler

HIS DAD HAS WINGS OF A GARBLER

Am I going to grow wings too!?!?!?!?!?!?

No, you idiot. Jaemin

I’m not?

No, you have to earn them. Also Jaemin

So that night he was lying in bed

Questioning whether or not he wanted to fall asleep

Knowing he would have to confront his father there

But a cloud with a dreamcatcher with dew drops hanging from the strings shrouded with a calming silver light appeared above his head

And he fell asleep instantaneously

His father was sitting there

Talking with the man who embodied the moon

The man that he didn’t recognize made a comment and vanished after he caught sight of him

His father turned around. It was like he hadn’t aged a day since the photo see saw

Do you know who I am?

Uhhhhh. A dude with white warbler wings??? That haunts my dreams every night. Who also happens to be my father?

He didn’t mean to sound as sarcastic as it came out

Yes, that is all true, though I don’t ‘haunt’ you. But, do you know who I am?

No

He sat him down in the dark pavilion, explaining about the gods and goddess, the war and everything in between, even how he was born.

Do I like…. Have half-siblings??

No, but Jaemin is your cousin. His father smiled

After that, the dream faded off and he was peaceful for the rest of the night

Waking up, Jaemin was passed out on the couch in the living room

Picking up the nearest thing (a remote) he threw it at the boy on the couch, causing him to wake up

WHY IN OLYMPUS DID YOU NEVER TELL ME WE ARE TECHNICALLY COUSINS????

Not my place?

Anyways start packing, Mom said I can take you to camp with me this year :)

Yes, Jaemin calls Jeno’s mom his mom

And so he went to camp with Jaemin that year

It was nothing like what Jaemin described

It was WAY cooler

On the first day people were milling around everywhere

Jaemin led him over to a couple older kids with badges around their necks

Hey Jaemin!

Jaemin introduced them as Johnny and Ten, both sons of wind gods, both camp leaders who were helping all of the new kids get around and find their cabins

They’ll take care of you, I have to go find her.

Jaemin basically dumped Jeno on their shoulders so he could go find his girlfriend smh

Jaemin told us you were Morpheus’ kid, we were thinking about putting you in the Crios cabin? Does that sound okay? We would put you with Jaemin but he said you should get to know other campers your first year here. The shorter one spoke up

The taller one, Jaemin introduced him as Johnny, pulled out a gold coin, flicking it into the air while muttering something, and a wavering rainbow appeared in front of them

Put me through to Taeil and soon the rainbow was showing an older boy as well with a red undercut over some astrology papers

The rainbow??? Was facetime???

Ten obviously saw the shock on poor Jeno’s face, carefully explaining what an Iris message was and how to do it

After that he settled into demigod life pretty quickly

Jaemin introduced him to all of his friends, the Dream team, even some older campers who he was close with

He even liked the Crios cabin so much that he decided to stay there past the first year. The Morpheus cabin was lonely and Jaemin always had his girlfriend over trying to get her to sleep

The night terrors slowly subsided and soon his dreams were more peaceful than anything else

But one time he dreamt about a girl, right around his age, running into camp, a dark aura surrounding her but obvious scared

It wasn’t the dark aura that worried him, Kun and Jaehyun both had a dark aura, both sons of gods related to death

But her aura was different, it was mixed with madness, it was close to driving her insane

Even though it was only a dream, he couldn’t shake it off

He asked everyone that he knew, especially Jaemin, he found out a while ago that he was the one who founded the camp, what the aura could be and no one knew

He also started watching the border of camp everyday

Not stalking it or anything, just glancing over whenever he had a chance

A couple weeks past and Jeno was convinced that it was just a really weird dream

But then you actually showed up

Same way that it happened in the dream

You ran into the borders of camp like you were out of your mind, you were paranoid, no one could even touch you, not even Sicheng

When Jeno had heard what happened, he ran down to the pavilion

There you were, on the ground, covering your ears, eyes wide open, terrified to shut them, and shaking in fear

Once he had pushed his way through the crowd, he placed his hand over your eyes and shortly, you had fallen asleep

After that, Sicheng had moved you to the infirmary with Jeno’s and Johnny’s help

He found that you were severely dehydrated, and even he couldn’t describe the aura around you. It wasn’t that of Kun or Jaehyun’s but it was definitely similar

You were were in and out of consciousness for about 3 days and when everything finally settled down, a raven with a snake in its mouth appeared over your head

It was symbols that no one had seen or heard of, not even Jaemin or Taeyong

The boys spent the next couple of days researching who the symbols could belong to, and eventually they found it: Melinoe

Goddess of ghosts and spiritual passage who brought mortals nightmares that drove them insane

That would explain the way you were when you first came into camp

After that, Jeno stayed by your side every step of your recovery

He also helped you to manage the nightmares and control your powers

He had been there before, dreams were a tricky subject and nightmares made it even more complicated

But slowly you got the hang of it

And slowly Jeno started to have a crush on you, and slowly it turned into more

When he finally asked you out, you were ecstatic, it would be a lie to say that you hadn’t developed feelings for Jeno since coming to camp

And when camp closed for the summer- except for the few that stayed, he found out that you were attending the same university

He had been studying astrology while you were in the art department, soon, everyone in campus and camp knew who the two of you were

Y’all were inseparable

The Dreamies even accepted you into their group

(Jisung is your favorite don’t tell Jeno)

You eventually ended up moving in with Jaehyun

He had become like your older brother at camp

When Jeno wasn’t able to help you learn about your powers, Jaehyun was there to help

He even got his mom to visit personally and talk to you about your own mom and what he role was, and most importantly, that she wasn’t a bad person

Jaehyun knew the pain that you dealt with having a parent being a literal embodiment of death

And soon enough, it was even like Jeno had moved in with Jaehyun with how much he was at the apartment

Jaehyun was okay with it as long as he didn’t wake up in the middle of the night :)

[percabethfeelsfandom]

Writing Prompt: Nico Visiting Elysium

SPOILERS FOR THE BURNING MAZE AND THE TOWER OF NERO

The walk to Elysium was one that Nico was familiar with. Some days his feet would bring him there subconsciously, hoping to one day find his sister among the souls that resided there. 

That day hadn’t come yet. But the heroes that were there were familiar with his presence, they weren’t bothered by the shadows beneath his feet, the tendrils that clung to his wrists, and winded themselves around his sword handle, ready to shoot out at his command. They didn’t blink an eye at the bags under his eyes, no matter how much sleep he got. When you’re a spirit constantly surrounded by death, you forget what life looks like. The same went for Nico. 

It had been a while since he’d been to the Underworld to see his father and step mother, but the way the rubble crunched beneath his feet was almost comforting. He knew where the dips in the hill were, where to avoid the holes and minor chasms. 

The environment and atmosphere of the Underworld began to shift the closer he got to Elysium. 

Nico’s eyes adjusted to the brightness of Elysium, and the glittering blue lake where The Isles of the Blest resided. He shouldn’t have been able to enter through the gates, but being a child of the Underworld had its perks. The gates opened at Nico’s touch and Nico was greeted with the beautiful view of Elysium. For a home made for the dead, the place exuded a significant amount of life and light, yet it lacked the warmth real life did. It was beautiful in the way jewels were beautiful, sparkly and well-cared for, but not the way flowers were, in their life and their aliveness. 

The trek to the pavilion where he usually met with spirits was hard, it didn’t get easier to see the spirits of heroes Nico had watched or felt die in battles he had also fought in. Every time he saw the familiar gleam of Hunter-silver he had to hold back a flinch. The flowers of Elysium were of gold and silver and Nico had come to the realisation that they were the only plants that didn’t wilt in his presence, it left him feeling an odd sense of pride as he picked one from the ground and placed it in his pocket for later. There was no breeze down here, yet the grass rippled in colours of the rainbow as spirits passed through, wanting to see why the child of Hades was present. Small voices called out to him beyond the gates, wanting to feed on his light, and his life but he pulled up a barrier in his mind, imagining a fortress to protect himself. 

He stood in the middle of the pavilion and held out his hand. He wouldn’t need food to summon who he needed to speak to, he knew that they’d come. 

“Jason Grace.” 

His voice came out stronger than he thought it would. But he still wasn’t mentally prepared enough for the shape of Jason to appear so easily. He knew that Jason had died in his school uniform, but someone had taken the liberty to put him in a purple Camp Jupiter shirt, despite this, the colour was pale, as if all the colour had been bleached out.

Nico caught himself against a pillar as Jason’s form materialised by Nico’s feet. Jason was kneeling as if he was praying, head bowed and arms out trying to hold himself up. 

“Jason?” Nico repeated. 

The silvery outline of Jason seemed to grow brighter, before he rose to his full height. Nico tried not to stare, but it was difficult not to notice the gaping holes in his chest that glowed with silver through the purple shirt. 

“Nico?” 

When he was little, Nico had been taught by his mother and by Bianca that eye contact was important, it was rude if you didn’t meet people’s eyes when you were speaking to them. But over the years he had also learnt that in order to meet people’s eyes constantly, he needed to be prepared for other people to look into his eyes, allow them to see that vulnerability that he knew he showed. 

Nico forced himself not to avert his eyes as Jason looked at him astounded, his wire framed glasses still sat atop his nose but Nico could no longer see his reflection in them. Everything about him looked the same, his voice too. 

“Hi Jason,” Nico breathed, blinking hard. It was getting significantly harder to remain standing as Jason watched him. It had only been a couple of months since- but Nico hadn’t been able to bring himself to come down and search for him. It was a pain that reminded him all too much of the time when he'd just found out he was a demigod and his world had turned upside down. 

“You’re angry with me,” Jason said, a small smile growing on his mouth. Nico let out a choked laugh and shook his head. 

“I’m learning that grudges do me no good, especially against...especially against the dead,” Nico admitted. He waited for Jason’s form to blur into a corporeal version, but he remained in a hazy silvery state, like Nico was in the middle of an Iris message with him and Nico guessed perhaps they were; except instead of being miles apart and trying to communicate, it was the absence of Jason’s life and the existence of Nico’s that enabled them to talk despite Jason’s body being buried at Camp Jupiter. 

“I always thought I wasn’t scared of death…when you’re a demigod of a prophecy you learn to be, and then Leo died, and I knew. I knew that whatever happened I had nothing to be scared of because he’d be here for me…”

“And then he wasn’t,” Nico filled in. Jason nodded, looking beyond the pavilion at the Isles of the Blest. 

“I knew that he wouldn’t be here...yet, I don’t know, maybe it’s selfish to wish that I wasn’t alone-”

“It’s not,” Nico said firmly, standing up straighter to meet Jason’s gaze. With a sharp intake of breath he realised that he had slightly grown since he’d last seen Jason, and now he’d be immortalised at this height. 

Jason seemed to notice at the same time, losing his train of thought as he looked down at Nico. 

“You’ve grown taller,” he said fondly. Jason reached out almost as if he went to pet Nico’s head, but his hand passed through Nico, leaving him with a brain freeze. Jason noticeably winced and muttered an apology. The pain in Nico’s stomach was second to the odd feeling of familiarity. It had been many years since Nico had had an older sibling, and only recently had he become one again, yet Jason, in their small time period of knowing each other had grown closer than Nico would have thought. It was a nice thought, to think he had someone else watching over him, even if it was beyond the life he was currently living. Nico found himself thinking about Bianca again, the way he always did when he felt lost. 

“I saw your plans for the temples,” Nico managed. He gripped the hilt of his sword, using it to ground him as his emotions began to unfurl, curling around him like a dark cloud. 

“Apollo kept his promise?” 

“He was adamant in doing so.”

Jason smiled, and it made him look younger, bringing a light to his face that should’ve been hard to achieve in the Underworld but he made it look easy. 

“Will you try for the Isles?” Nico asked, and though he tried not to, fear laced his words as he watched Jason look at the island in question, a wistful look upon his features. 

“Maybe…” Fear, as hot as lightning struck Nico in the chest, and he thought he was about to say goodbye to another demigod he had looked up to. 

“But not yet. There are heroes here. Heroes that I fought with during the titan war, one’s I didn’t know the name of, same with the giant war. I think it’s time that I learned them.”

"Jason?" 

"Yeah?"

"Are you still scared?" Absentmindedly Nico placed his hand in his pocket where he kept a small token of luck, the familiar groove in the old mythomagic toy bringing him a bittersweet comfort. 

Jason tilted his head to the side for a moment, thinking before he shook his head.

"Not anymore, no."

As he spoke, his light began to flicker, becoming more of a mirage than anything. Nico poured his power into him, praying to his father for more time. He had so much more to say, messages to pass on, and- he just wanted more time. 

“Piper she-”

“Is she happy?” Jason asked, interrupting. Nico thought of Piper with her girlfriend, and the life she was building outside of Camp Half Blood and nodded slowly. 

“And Leo?” He continued. This time Nico thought about Leo’s easy laugh and his constant energy, bouncing off the walls, and his smiles around Calypso. 

“Yeah he’s happy but-”

“And Reyna? Percy and Annabeth? Frank? Hazel? Are they all happy? Right at this moment?” The question almost took Nico by surprise but he wasn’t lying when he said his answer. 

“Yes.” Images of the other demigods, speaking via Iris message, and on visits to each other's camps flashed in Nico’s head. Reyna and her pledge to the Hunters echoed in his head, an almost mirror to Bianca and Thalias. The pictures Annabeth and Percy had sent to Chiron when they had arrived at college, pinned on the board in The Big House. Then of his little sister with her purple cape, matching Franks. 

“They’re happy,” he repeated, more sure of himself when he said it. Jason seemed to relax. 

“And Thalia?” he asked softly. 

“She’ll be okay,” he replied honestly. 

“I never wanted to leave her.”

“She knows.”

“What about you, Nico? Are you happy?” 

The question jarred Nico and he hesitated to answer, thinking hard about it. He thought about the haze he had been in right after Jason’s death. The nightmares that had resurfaced, the voices that called to him from beneath the ground. 

“I want to be.” It was the closest to the truth he could get. Will’s face flashed behind Nico’s closed eyelids, and unconsciously Nico smiled and nodded with more certainty. 

Jason smiled again. 

“Then I’ll be okay.” 

[theravennest]

Let’s Talk: The Blooms at Ruyi Pavilion

I finished all 40 eps about two weeks ago, actually. I enjoyed it for the most part, the 1st half especially, but there were several things near the end that took me out. 

But first some of the good bits...

The cast chemistry was immaculate. Our four main lead actors were a lot of fun together. Not just Zhang Zhehan and Ju Jing Yi, but also Wang You Shuo and Xu Jiaqi (Loved them!). The four of them have such obvious ease with each other after their previous work together in Legend of Yun Xi and it made scenes with any combination of the main four really pop. 

I was especially drawn to the sisters’ relationship and the Prince-Vassal bond going on between Prince Su and Little Marquis. (Y’all know I’m a sucker for both sibling stories and stories about fictional royals and their loyal vassals.)

Most of the ancillary characters were interesting, actually. As y’all know from my last post about this one, I was crack shipping like crazy all the side characters. 😂 This cast made it easy for me.

Except for Prince An. (Sorry to hit the bad so early.) Good god, I hated that man. His character was poorly drawn in pretty much every way, which is unfortunate cuz he’s the main antagonist. Any story with a main antagonist that just doesn’t work is always gonna be weaker.

Also, no offense to people who like that actor but he was the only cast member who did absolutely nothing for me in terms of performance. So much of the story was focused on his weaksauce motivation and dry acting like, my god, put me out of my misery I do not care.

Anyway, the set design and costuming was top notch and I even enjoyed the broader story ideas the show was trying to put forth. The sitcom vibe of the first 20 eps or so was SOOO good. Our four mains’ comedic timings were pitch perfect. 

Unfortunately, the writing took a sharp nosedive in the back 3rd or so and it had a rough ending. (The lightning strike on the tower scene, the fight in the underground temple, the return of Prince An’s mom...all of that was trash. let’s be real.)

I mostly blame this on three things: the missteps with the Prince An character, the lack of development of Rong’s prophetic dreams even though that was the main premise of the show, and the jump-the-shark moment that was the wedding night and its subsequently underwritten fallout. 

Now to clarify, I don’t mean to say the wedding night event shouldn’t have happened at all but rather the execution of it within the story was poor and it negatively impacted 90% of the other character motivations/progressions and the overall pacing. 

You know, it felt like that thing you do as a writer where you wake up and have a specific scene in your mind. It’s evocative, impactful, fun, or otherwise intense. But you just have that scene and it’s something that would have to happen in the middle of your story. So you work your way backwards to try to get to that scene and you do your best to get the characters to make decisions to get there but when you sit down to write nothing works out. It’s clunky or OOC for the scene to still happen so you end up having to either scrap the evocative scene or keep the clunky lead up and hope no one notices. That’s what that wedding scene and everything that happened after felt like. They wrote themselves into a corner and just struggled to recover until the bitter end. 

The main pairing suffered the most because of the poor writing choices. No matter how much chemistry ZZH and JJY have together, even they could not completely salvage Rong’s yo-yoing behavior with Prince Su. They started off so wholesome and then dove into such toxicity and miscommunication for no reason. 

Don’t get me wrong. I can very easily enjoy angst. But Fu Rong consistently broke this man down. After ep 25-26, it stopped being good angst and became so awful to watch all the emotional manipulation and turmoil. There’s something broken in the writing if 9 out of 10 times Prince Su cried or fell into depression it was because of something Rong did or said to him after jumping to a conclusion with only part of the puzzle pieces gathered. 

I could forgive some stuff because Prince An was manipulating things but some stuff was just all Rong not giving Prince Su the benefit of the doubt or plain old not doing her due diligence in investigating. She is supposed to have inherited the most prolific and successful spy organization in the show and she still got 90% of her conclusions wrong. It was like she was determined to always think the worst of Prince Su no matter what despite how often he went above and beyond to help her. Despite the fact that he literally had a reputation as a general for being a harsh taskmaster but fair and just. 

I think what broke me was when she did the bare minimum investigation into her own father’s death and just fully blamed Prince Su without confronting him honestly or even considering his personality or their relationship up until that point. She really believed a single street seller’s entire testimony over the man she lived with and supposedly loved for months. Girl...

And this is after she’d previously mistakenly accused him of killing her mentor with very few facts to the point where she stabbed him on their wedding night.

There came a point where I actually wanted Prince Su to finally, truly divorce Rong and settle down with someone who could love him right. Maybe give him time to heal from the repeated heartbreaks, betrayals, and the literal stab wound in his chest but he was so fucking in love with Rong, he just couldn’t escape.

(If there were behind the scenes production reasons for the clunky-ness of the back half, I would not be surprised at all but ultimately they don’t matter cuz the story we got was the story we got.)

Imagine if we had gotten a Rong who used her prophetic dreams to navigate the cut throat world of royal politics. Or imagine if we’d gotten Rong as a true apprentice to Ruyi who learned both metalsmithing and spycraft in the first half and took over the pavilion as a competent leader in the second half. As it stands, it just felt like wasted potential.

I’m glad they had the modern day special AU eps tho cuz those were great. Zhang Zhehan and Ju Jing Yi had the opportunity to really showcase their incredible chemistry but in a modern setting and with better writing than the back 3rd of BRYP.

Now let’s talk Zhang Zhehan since he was the reason I started this in the first place. I loved him in this. I truly did. He was stern and serious but also playful and sweet. He was romantic but awkward, badass but vulnerable. He really delivered a nuanced and charming performance. I loved every second.

I think my favorite moment wasn’t some badass fight or even a super romantic moment. No, it was when he got drunk and started crying like a little baby cuz Rong was constantly doubting him no matter what he did. It was simultaneously sad and hilarious. Like gut busting funny. Y’all can watch it here:

I laughed so fucking hard at this. Oh my god, guys! This shit was too much.

Random Thoughts:

The romance between the 2nd leads was A+. Truly an adorable affair. Though I think they should’ve gotten together officially earlier around ep 25 or so and we should’ve seen the rest with them as a couple.

The costuming was so good y’all. For all the main four characters but I was especially drawn to Prince Su’s outfits.

The ghostly pale look with the bright red lips and eyeshadow makeup for Rong did not bother me at all. I actually liked it for her though I think it would’ve worked better if she’d had more explicit prophetic abilities.

I could’ve used more actual war scenes with Prince Su and Little Marquis.

The OST for the show SLAPPED!

That one kid spy in Ruyi Pavilion was voiced by the same actor as Chengling from WOH and I have never double-taked harder. lmao

Even though there were things I didn’t like in this show, I appreciated how gay I could make it in my last post. Truly it was a bisexual’s dream aesthetically.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 4 - ao3 -

“Qishan Wen has sent the invitations for the discussion conference,” their father said. “They will be holding a competition.”

The elders murmured thoughtfully in response.

Lan Qiren wasn’t sure why, since the Wen sect always held some sort of competition when it was their turn – the other sects tended to vary the main event, feasts and hunts and academic discussions, but the Wen sect loved competitions. Although perhaps it was just Wen Ruohan himself who did; since he’d been the sect leader for so long, it was impossible to tell the difference between his preferences and his sect’s.

“Qingheng-jun can lead the disciples,” one of the sect elders said, and Lan Qiren’s brother stood and saluted respectfully before sitting back down. “As for the rest…what skills should we select for?”

“Equestrianism,” their father said. “And music.”

“Music?” one of Lan Qiren’s teachers – an old man who usually all but slept through these meetings, but respected enough that no one commented on it – asked, blinking awake and rubbing his eyes in a way that suggested he thought he was being discreet.  “Since when does Qishan Wen appreciate music?”

Lan Qiren's teacher in music, who'd clearly been about to ask the same question, shut his mouth with a poorly-hidden smile.

“They don’t have to appreciate it,” another teacher, this one of swordsmanship, said, his tone distant and cynical. “They just have to have someone in mind that they think will win. Qishan Wen values victory over all else.”

“And they are crafty," yet another said, nodding. "Including it in the listing might be a stratagem to get us to send more disciples talented in music and fewer in other areas, to reduce our chances of winning the main event –”

“Both riding and music are listed as the main events,” Lan Qiren’s father said, his cold clear tone slashing through the others’ voices and putting an end to the debate. “Let us proceed in selecting disciples to attend.”

The list was quickly settled, and for once Lan Qiren was nominated to go. He hoped it was on account of his musical talents, which he was pretty proud of, although he acknowledged it might very well be due to his heritage. He made plans to go to visit the library pavilion at once, thinking about what scores might be appropriate to study in preparation – based on the description in the invitation, there would be a technical challenge, in which they would all play the same piece, and then an individual selection where each player could show off their personal skills…

“Looking forward to showing off for your lover?”

Lan Qiren slowed to a stop. It was one of the wittier, more personable disciples, a distant cousin of his named Lan Ganhui – one of the ones that thought they were funny, and others seemed to agree.

“Are you talking to me?” he asked, puzzled. It seemed as if he were, but at the same time... “I don’t have a lover.”

“Really?” His cousin was smiling. “But we’ve all heard how highly Sect Leader Wen thinks of you.”

Lan Qiren blinked. “He complimented me once. Three years ago. When I was thirteen.”

With the benefit of hindsight and age, it was clear to him that his father must have been right about Wen Ruohan’s motives: he had only been making trouble deliberately, trying to stir things up. A test of his brother’s mettle as the prospective new leader of the Lan sect, no doubt.

Occasional teasing aside, what were the chances that he'd actually found Lan Qiren to be interesting?

“You’re far too modest, Qiren-xiong. Everyone knows how picky Sect Leader Wen can be – you must have done something to get his attention.”

Lan Qiren was not good at understanding people and their subtleties as a general rule, but he had sufficient practice at childish taunts to understand the implication, and he felt his ears burn.

“Do not speak ill of people,” he said, putting his hands behind his back to hide how his fists clenched. “You should report to the discipline hall for violating the rules.”

“Violation excused,” his brother said from behind him, voice calm – even cold – as always. “Don’t take things so seriously, Qiren; it’s only joking between friends.”

Lan Qiren was not friends with Lan Ganhui, but he probably should be. It was his duty as one of the heirs of the main clan to be magnanimous with the other disciples of the sect.

As irritating a task as that might be.

“Walk with me,” his brother ordered, and naturally Lan Qiren obeyed.

They went in silence for a while, their path the familiar one used to make the rounds of the Cloud Recesses – it was a task they were all assigned once they were old enough, and Lan Qiren recognized the twists and turns of it at once. He wondered what that meant, if anything.

If he were with one of his teachers, he would be able to extrapolate that the subject of imminent discussion was not a serious one; that they felt they could both fulfill their duties and speak with him meant that it was not a subject that required their full attention. But somehow, despite their closer relation, Lan Qiren sometimes felt as if he did not understand his brother anywhere near as well as he understood his teachers: it was possible that in this case the subject  was  important, but his brother more capable than their teachers of splitting his time and attention, or maybe simply didn’t care about one of the two tasks he was performing.

That was one of the things Lan Qiren had never really understood about his brother. His brother was the great hope of their Lan sect, the bright light of their generation; when he finally became sect leader, it was expected that he would help lead them to an ascendant position in the cultivation world and allow their clan to flourish, one andall. Yet sometimes it seemed as if he saw his duties as merely a burden, to be completed as quickly as possible – he was always trying to do more than one task at a time, trying to finish and put them aside, as if he had compared them to some ideal in his mind and found them wanting, purposeless, and therefore irrelevant, even if the task were key to the well-being of their sect.

Their teacher in swordsmanship – one of the few people his brother seemed to really like, though of course he was properly filial to all his teachers – said that he had the best chance of any in their generation of becoming a true immortal, if only he devoted himself, and Lan Qiren supposed that that was his brother’s goal. After all, hadn’t Wen Ruohan raised his sect higher and higher simply on account of having been there longer than anyone else…?

“This will be your first discussion conference in several years,” his brother said, drawing Lan Qiren’s attention. “Will it not?”

“Since the last time our sect hosted,” Lan Qiren agreed. It had been the Jiang the year after, and at fourteen he was too young to go to an official conference; then the Jin the year after that, and the Lan sect never sent too many people to suffer the rush and bustle of Lanling City. If he had had some extraordinary achievements, they might have sent him, but he didn’t.

This year, though, he was sixteen – just under the official age of eligibility for those not in the main families of the Great Sects, which was seventeen – and known to have some talent in one of the areas in question, so it would be a loss of face for their family  not  to send him. Otherwise, he suspected they would have waited another year until the discussion conference was held by the Nie sect, who as a close ally to the Lan sect would offer a much safer way to be introduced to the cultivation world.

“I see,” his brother said, and continued walking some distance. “You will need to be mindful of your actions, of course.”

“Of course,” Lan Qiren echoed, and despite his best efforts he felt some dissatisfaction. Beyond the resentment he bore him on account of their mother’s death, his brother had never really paid him all that much attention; Lan Qiren had been assured by several of his teachers that he was merely imagining how much his brother didn’t like him, or at least that the irritation would pass as he got older and more accomplished, less of an embarrassment. Most of the time, his brother’s gaze was turned inside to himself and his own cultivation efforts just like their father before him, so it made sense for him not to know too much about Lan Qiren, but…still. It wasn’t exactly like Lan Qiren was a known troublemaker that needed to be taken aside and especially warned to be on his best behavior.

He idolized his brother, Lan Qiren reminded himself. Just like everyone else. It was only the itchy emotionality of adolescence that was causing him such frustration.

“You understand what you did wrong, then, and will not repeat it.”

“…what I did wrong?” Lan Qiren ground his teeth together, realized he was doing it, and stopped at once. No one else had ever said he had done something wrong during that discussion conference, but perhaps they were only being polite. “Xiongzhang, I am too ignorant, and do not understand. Please tell me what you mean.”

His brother looked at him sidelong. “In connection with Sect Leader Wen.”

“Xiongzhang! I didn’t –”

“You are old enough now to understand how dangerous he is,” his brother said, cutting him off, and Lan Qiren fell silent, because that much was true. When he’d been thirteen and even more single-minded than he was today (and truly, how could he condemn his brother’s disinterest in so many things when he himself was similarly focused on his own interests?), he had been ignorant of the rumors that swirled around Wen Ruohan. It was said that beneath his seemingly composed countenance, he could be violent and moody, impulsive and selfish and cruel – how he had to have the best of everything for himself, and would stop at nothing to obtain whatever it was, no matter who it harmed. And then there were the stories of his mysterious Fire Palace, where he was said to collect implements of torture and to enjoy sating his bloodlust by practicing them upon those unfortunate enough to be his prisoners –

How much of that was true and how much merely rumor, Lan Qiren did not know, but he knew that it was well-accepted enough to be considered news rather than frivolous gossip.

"Yes, xiongzhang," he muttered, and dropped his eyes to the ground. "I know."

"This isn't like last time. We're going to be in the Nightless City, on his ground, not ours - you're not adept at politics, so you might not know it, but Sect Leader Wen's arrogance is beyond belief; he only sometimes considers himself to be bound by the laws and customs of the cultivation world, not like the rest of us. If something happens, I won't be able to protect you."

Lan Qiren nodded. He appreciated his brother's concern for him.

"Try to avoid him entirely," his brother instructed. "And if you do end up seeing him, don't pester him this time! Think beyond yourself: our sect cannot afford to draw his ire, if it turns out that he does not find you as amusing as he did before.”

It hadn’t been Lan Qiren’s fault that Wen Ruohan had found him amusing the first time. It wasn’t like he intended on spending time with the man – it had just happened!

“And what if he approaches me?” Lan Qiren asked, more to be contrary than out of any actual belief it would really happen. Wen Ruohan had seen him as a tool to needle his brother, nothing more, and had probably put him out of his mind long ago - it'd been three years, after all, and Lan Qiren was very young still; if it hadn't been for the Wen sect's selection of music as a main event, he probably wouldn't be going along at all.

“If he starts speaking with you, then you are to respond gracefully, and comply with his wishes until such time as someone can come to collect you.”

Lan Qiren frowned. “Are you sure?"

His brother stopped and frowned at him.

"I just mean, we've met in person before," Lan Qiren explained. "He won't mistake me for a servant; he'll know who I am. And the Great Sects are all equal, so isn't there a chance that we might lose face if one of our main bloodline yields to everything he wants at first request, as if we were some nameless clan beneath his…”

“Are you questioning me?”

Lan Qiren faltered. “No, xiongzhang.”

“I don’t want anything disturbing the discussion conference,” his brother said, his gaze already sliding away and his fists tight at his sides. Lan Qiren thought over his words and was ashamed of himself: he shouldn't have reminded his brother that he was part of the main bloodline, same as him; he knew it was a painful subject for his brother, and to bring it up anyway probably came across as arrogant and tactless. “I am acting as leader for this trip, and the responsibility for everything that happens is mine. Do not make me lose face. Do you understand?”

“Yes, xiongzhang. I won’t lose face for the sect.”

“Good. Dismissed.”

[markynaz]

7/29

Ruins / Campfire Written for @tes-summer-fest 2021 Wordcount: 1593 Content Warnings: Imprisonment Ao3 Mirror: here

The statue to Azura was always relic of the days long before memory, even back to when Morrowind was instead Resdaynia. Neither Wise Women nor careful Temple records recalled when it had actually been built. It had been impeccably maintained through the years, though by whom varied. Sometimes Ashlanders would come to groom the ash off Azura’s face and ensure the roses on her brow stayed sharp. Sometimes curious Telvanni would come, dusting off the plinth before her feet to perform some ritual or another, respectful of the Good Daedra’s power. Sometimes Temple pilgrimages would visit her as the Anticipation of Sotha Sil, the closest to the clockwork god they could get while he secreted himself away, and worthy of respect as was every piston in the Maker’s great design.

Those days had vanished with the Red Year.

Now the Reclamation’s statue was buried by volcanic rock that neither spell nor might could move - and both Temple and Ashlanders had tried, desperate for guidance in the wake of the now-absent living gods. The eighty-foot tall statue of the Lady was buried up to her waist in rock, details of her robe melted into the solid lava flow. Attempts at excavation showed the barest hint of the plinth at her feet, but no more than a thin edge, covered in burned down Temple-issued candles. In a way it was a ruin, a picture of despair, and perhaps that's why the Temple had withdrawn. New statues could always be built. Vvardefell, especially the southern coast, was too uninhabitable - too full of memory - for the statue to be any great reminder of what they had lost.

The Ashlanders clung still to their home. Zainab Tribe especially, ranging along the no-longer-grassy Grazelands, looked up to the imprisoned statue and felt for her. They too were rooted where they'd stood for generations with no way out. They too would survive, just as all the Three had taught them.

There were nights where Masser and Secunda were no more than slivers in the dark night sky. On those nights, keen Ashlander eyes could note that the statue - merely a silhouette against the stars - seemed to reflect some sort of moonlight. If not for the darkness of Tamriel’s moons, one would hardly notice it. The moon and star held aloft in Azura’s outstretched hand glimmered with the light as it diffused across the rest of the statue much more faintly. Moonlight, in a sense - but much more beautiful, with many more colors than Masser and Secunda could ever hope to give.

The Ashlanders saw this as a blessing, a boon, a prophecy. Azura had not abandoned them. She was watching over them now, even as her statue was imprisoned by the rock flow, and she would guide them from this night and into the twilight hours of prophecy and glory once more. This had to be the case. And chins started to lift in the small Ashlander camps, the despair no longer as heavy as the ash on the air.

The Wise Woman said nothing about all of this.

Dusanabi, Wise Woman of Zainab Tribe, had wanted to believe as much as her people when the lights had first been noticed. That first night she had retreated to her yurt and prepared a ritual of connection, dipping into her low-running stores to make the old tincture, setting it over a fire and allowing the steam to make its way around her and into her lungs as she fell asleep.

She was prepared to receive the cool, glittering, loving presence of her Prince into her dream. She was prepared to walk in Moonshadow, kneel at her Prince’s feet, and ask her for some bit of guidance she could pass on to Azura’s beloved people.

That was not what she received.

Instead the vision that took her was of the dim inside of a Daedric ruin. The air was stifling, ashy beyond the scent of the ritual herbs in Dusanabi’s lungs. When she looked back, the doorway was sealed by volcanic rock.

There was no statue inside the ruin, but Dusanabi knew in her heart who it was dedicated to. It would be difficult to deny. The single furnishing in the entire room was a bare stone slab, carved all around with praises of Azura in old Chimeris, and upon it lay a woman.

Dusanabi approached with gentle steps, her dream-feet making no sound and leaving no mark on the dusty stone floor.

The Dunmer woman had her arms resting at her sides, hands relaxed, fingernails glimmering with the faint light of the stars. Her eyes were closed. A fine robe covered her neck to ankle, a House robe - woven beautifully of gold and silver and gray spidersilk, though in a style so old that Dusanabi couldn’t recall ever seeing a House mer wear something similar. She did not stir as Dusanabi gently touched her chest, but there were thoughts there, under the surface - not the glittering unfathomability of a Prince, but the warm touch of a mortal.

Dusanabi woke up in her yurt with a pounding headache and a sickness clutching her heart.

But she had to know properly. She couldn’t just leave it there, not when her people still gasped and hoped over the lights of the ruin the next night. This time she modified her ritual of connection - different proportions, different herbs, and drank a tea of strengthening before she lit the fire and allowed the scent to infuse her dreams.

The Daedric ruin was not the place she found herself in this time. Instead, a lively bed of coals crackled in the middle of a stone pavilion, built solid like a House mer home before Red Mountain had erupted. Scattered around the room were colorful cushions and blankets, bright colors and warm fabrics, contrasting against the lovely night sky outside and the breathtakingly ethereal gardens far below.

The woman in the ruin rose from a cushion to greet her.

She was quite solid, quite real, and not as unconscionably beautiful as her surroundings. Bright golden eyes flared from her angular gray face, and her brown hair fell loose around her shoulders. But her smile was warmer than even the coals at the center of the room as she bade Dusanabi to sit.

“Please,” she added once they were both settled, Dusanabi almost wishing she could feel the silks at her fingertips, because what sort of texture would the cloth of Moonshadow have? “I’m afraid I don’t quite understand how you’ve come, but I’m grateful for the visit nonetheless. Tell me- what is your name?”

“I am the Wise Woman of Zainab Tribe. They call me Dusanabi.” She squinted at the woman opposite her. “And you are our Nerevarine.”

The woman did not try to hide it, dipping her head with sadness furrowing her brow.

“So it is truly you, in the shrine.”

Arafel, the Nerevarine, nodded, giving life to all of Dusanabi’s fears. “My Lady thinks it best that I… do not interfere as directly as I once did,” she said regretfully. “I may still look out on the world and observe, watch it go by and change without me. But these past thirty years, I am not allowed to interact.”

Dusanabi folded her hands in her lap, glancing around herself. It was a very small pavilion, for all its beauty, for a woman to inhibit for decades unending.

“We had thought the statue imprisoned.”

Arafel laughed, a sound with no joy in it. “I imagine it is, in a way. But I do not think it would be if my Lady did not also want it to be a prison.”

Dusanabi’s face must have been very unguarded, because the Nerevarine looked as if she regretted her words instantly. She reached out, placing a hand over Dusanabi’s ethereal one.

“Please don’t worry over me, Wise Woman,” she said. “I would hate to give you grief when you’re doing such a good job of guiding the people I love. Looking out on Tamriel gives me solace, and the spirit of Nerevar is a great comfort. This is not the first time he’s gone through this at our Lady’s pleasure.”

“Her will is always as deep and obscured as her love,” murmured Dusanabi, falling back on the old maxims. She gained the favor of Arafel’s smile.

“It always has been.”

A few more words of numb nothings were all Dusanabi had time for before the connection began to fade, her mortal shell unable to sustain the dreamwalk to Moonshadow for long. She awoke alone in her own yurt, to an aching cramp curving up under her ribs at all the magicka she had spent, and to a somewhat more painful ache in her heart.

She slowly stood and exited her yurt. The faint, gorgeous lights still shimmered over the statue of Azura. Below, the people of Zainab Tribe had rallied around their evening fire, the conversation having more animation now than it had in several years.

It gave hope to her tribespeople to believe the lights at the shrine were a sign of favor. So Dusanabi sat and watched and gave evasive answers when questioned about the ruin against the skyline, trying to expel the ash of despair from her lungs.

Whether Azura had abandoned them was yet to be seen. But she had certainly abandoned her champion - and forced her to abandon the Ashlanders she’d advocated so fondly for in turn.

The Wise Woman quietly convinced the Ashkhan to break camp and move up the coast sooner than expected.

[thegoodgayshit]

Luz’s mother really doesn’t want to send Luz to camp. She knows once she leaves, there is no going back. But Luz has a knack for getting into trouble, and one day she stumbles into the same type of people her mother would have preferred she avoided. After helping Luz dissolve her high school bully into dust, Eda and Lilith know right away that this kid is just like them - a child of the gods. So Luz hops on a Pegasus and heads to Camp Half-blood, where she embarks on a dangerous quest that makes her both friends and enemies... and she might even save Olympus along the way.

Chapter Thirty-Six: I Have the Best Summer Ever

The rest of Luz’s summer was a total blur of the best kind of amazing, fantastic, demigod-ness a kid could even imagine.

Luz’s days were filled with training in the arena, playing capture the flag, and hanging out with her friends. Every morning that she woke up and put on one of her orange t-shirts was another reminder that as of right now, she really had it good.

Sometimes in the mornings she and Eda would head out into the arena and spar while King took his usual sunbathing position a few feet away. Eda would parry and block her strikes, give her dirty tricks to use in upcoming games or events, and sometimes Luz would even get lucky enough to disarm her or pull something new she wasn’t expecting.

“I swear kid, one of these days you’re going to be even better than me,” she’d say, reaching down to ruffle her hair and switch her weapon and get ready for another round.

More than once, she and her siblings in the Hermes cabin had banded together to play some light-hearted pranks on the other cabins. Viney and Jerbo were a mischievous force to be reckoned with, and while Luz liked to participate she never really got lucky in the “getting away” part. More than once, Lilith had caught her in the act while she was placing a prank and turned a blind eye, and Luz always felt a rush of affection for the daughter of Zeus. It was asking a lot for her to not snitch, especially since she was a stickler for rules.

Luz made it up to her once or twice by pranking Eda on her behalf with a little bit of help from Edric and Emira. When her mentor showed up to the dining pavilion once with her hair sticking straight up in the air thanks to some magic hair gel, the laugh that came out of Lilith’s mouth made it all worth it.

At nights, Luz and Amity would sneak out of their cabins and hide from the harpies, sitting with their sketchbooks in the strawberry fields. They would laugh, and talk, and kiss, and enjoy each other’s company until one of them inevitably almost fell asleep and they decided to head back.

The wall of Luz’s bunk was soon tacked to the max with drawings, some of them of her quest, and some of them with fond memories of camp. She always did her best to text one to her Mami once in a while, and let her know how she was doing.

Luz made sure her cabin would try and team up with Gus and Willow’s whenever they could. The three of them were officially a force to be reckoned with during capture the flag. Their combinations and chemistry in battle often resulted in very easy and very early wins, and some of the other cabins were quick to point out they had an “unfair quest experience advantage”. While Eda had just shrugged, Willow did her best to make sure the teams would sometimes even out a little better after that.

Gods kept visiting camp here and there, usually to come by and say hello to their kids. Aphrodite had the habit of showing up unannounced and snapping her fingers, giving everybody an unrealistically fashionable outfit and hairdo, while the clothes they’d been wearing got snapped back to their bunks freshly washed and laundered. While some of the campers hated it, Luz didn’t mind. Aphrodite certainly had her style down to perfection, and pocketing another free outfit was always nice. Amity had other opinions on the matter.

“I just don’t get why she has to do this!” She complained, adjusting the pink t-shirt Aphrodite had magically slapped onto her. “It’s so weird!”

“I think that really suits you,” Luz shrugged while pointing to the leather jacket slung over Amity’s arm. “And your shirt says Hexside! How cool is that!”

Amity rolled her eyes as Luz did a spin, showing off her new green jacket and beanie to Gus and Willow. “She gave me new shoes too! My old ones are torn to bits from the quest.”

“You have to admit Amity, it’s nice getting free stuff,” Willow said while examining her own yellow jacket. “And she’s not the goddess of beauty for nothing. These are nice clothes.”

“My clothes look exactly like the ones I already own!” Gus complained, looking down at his simple navy button-up and jeans.

“If it isn’t broken don’t fix it!” Luz teased with a smile, patting him on the back. Amity groaned in embarrassment, slapping her hands to her face.

When Hermes showed up the first few times to visit the camp, Luz said hello to him, but also made sure that her other siblings got to spend some one-on-one time with their dad. As he was leaving the third time he visited, he pulled Luz aside for a quick chat.

“I just want to let you know that the gods have talked about adding an additional reward for you and your friends after what you’ve done for Olympus,” he said quietly, and Luz’s jaw dropped.

“I… I don’t need another reward dad. The way you guys have been showing up at camp is more than enough.”

Hermes tilted his head, smiling softly. “Perhaps you don’t need one, but the gods want to give it to you anyway. You have no idea the gravity of the situation that Belos had created upon Olympus. He almost destroyed us all.”

He looked around to make sure nobody was listening, and then leaned in to whisper.

“As the god of messengers, I was responsible for delivering a package to your mother and the rest of your companion's parents. You should hear from them shortly.”

Luz gaped. “What? What do you mean…”

Hermes reached over and gripped her shoulders. “I am proud of you, Luz. And trust me when I say I will make good on my promise and be there more for you and your siblings.” He winced rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “And… don’t be the first one to use the shower this evening. Your siblings and I might have set up a bit of a cruel prank.”

With a flash of wind, leaving behind a thoroughly confused Luz, Hermes was gone.

Luz didn’t have to wait long to find out what exactly the gods had done, because her Mami was calling her on her cellphone almost immediately after.

“Luz! You’ll never guess what showed up in the mail today! You’ve been accepted for a full ride to a boarding school downtown…”

And she wasn’t the only one.

“I can’t believe this!” Gus had exclaimed while the four of them were sitting on the beach just after dinner. “We’re all going to the same school next year!”

“It really does seem too good to be true,” Willow grinned, handing Luz one of the illicit cans of Sprite that Viney had managed to sneak from out of camp in celebration. “My dads are sad that I won’t be staying at home in Wisconsin, but they had to admit it is a great opportunity.”

“I’m just excited to go to a school where I finally have real friends.” Luz had never been so happy to think about the start of a new school year before. “We’ll get to go see Olympus on the weekends! Working alongside the actual gods!” Luz turned to Amity, who was watching Luz with her own soft smile. “Are your parents… okay with this? After everything that happened…”

“Oh trust me, they’re more than pleased. They see this whole internship program to create a bridge between the gods and their mortal kids as a ‘once in a lifetime opportunity'. They’re even talking about paying for Edric and Emira to go with me and hope that my ‘success’ rubs off on them. They don’t love that you guys are also a part of it though…” Amity’s expression darkened for a moment, and Luz reached across the beach to squeeze her hand.

“I’m sorry,” Luz started, but Amity just shrugged her shoulders.

“Don’t apologize, this is a good thing. I’m going to get to stay here in New York full time.”

“We all get too!” Gus grinned, digging his hands in the sand like he was holding back a squeal. “Luz you’ve got to show us all your favorite moral spots in the city.”

Luz’s smile had stretched wide, already imaging the kinds of shenanigans she and her friends would get up to running loose in Manhattan. “Obviously! The city’s huge; we could do something new every night!”

“You’ll never be able to get away from us now,” Willow teased, passing Amity an amused look as she sipped from her Sprite. Amity tilted her head back and laughed.

“Oh gods, I better stock up on Advil. Between you three and the twins I’m going to have a constant headache…”

As it started to fade to late August, Luz’s days just kept getting better. Thanks to Eda and her training paired with the other camp activities, she was faster than she’d ever been, she could scale up the rock wall in record times, and her sword skills had gotten incredibly good.

So good, that when the annual sparring tournament came up in the arena towards the end of the summer, she’d been able to knock Boscha into the dirt with the pommel of Aletheia, leaving the red-faced daughter of Ares extremely bitter and her final opponent being none other than her girlfriend.

“No chance you’re going to go easy on me?” Luz asked at the campfire that night, really only half-joking.

“Nope,” Amity replied with a little smirk. “I’ve won this tournament two years in a row. I’m about to make it three.”

To say the camp was buzzing with excitement would be an understatement. The whole camp had watched as Luz the newbie quest hero and Amity Blight had grown obviously closer, and in the three days leading up to the final tournament match, the discussion of which girlfriend would be the winner was as common as asking what the harpies would serve for dessert that night.

“Come on, kid, this is what we trained for!” Eda said, smacking her shoulders encouragingly the night before the match. “I don’t care if she’s you’re little girlfriend, she won’t be going easy on you so you shouldn’t either!”

“Knock her into the dirt!” King screeched from his napping spot on the ground.

While they were only trying to help, it wasn’t the most reassuring advice she’d ever received.

Luz tried to turn a blind eye to the gossip leading up to the fight, but it was hard to ignore Emira and Willow exchange a bet right in front of her at breakfast right before the right.

“Seriously?” Luz scoffed, crossing her arms.

“Sorry Luz, but Mittens has years of training under her belt, and I’m out of allowance,” Emira shrugged while she shook Willow’s hand.

“You don’t see the way Amity acts around her,” Willow retorted. “If she’s like that today, Luz has a good chance.”

Emira hummed, “Shoot. I didn’t think of that.”

“Oh my gods,” Luz groaned, slapping both hands to her face, sinking into the bench of the table, mortified.

Once Luz had been fitted into a set of finally well-fitting bronze armor, she drew Aletheia and met Amity in the center of the field, where Eda and Lilith were standing to referee the match. As she approached, she watched Amity coming from the other side, armor almost identical to Luz’s strapped over an orange camp shirt, the crowd of campers cheering in excitement. As her gaze flitted up to Amity’s eyes, there was a glint that reminded Luz that Amity was not the person she wanted to be on the bad side of.

It was too easy to forget weeks after their quest that Amity was a demigod force to be reckoned with and not the kind of enemy you wanted to have.

As the crowd quieted to an anticipated hum, Lilith raised her hand. Her mouth was cocked in an uncharacteristically juvenile smirk. It made Luz wonder if the campers hadn’t been the only folks at camp to place bets. When Eda shot Luz a cartoonish smile with two thumbs up, before patting her pocket knowingly, it confirmed her suspicions.

Gods. Now she really couldn’t lose. Eda would never forgive her.

“Amity! Luz! Are you ready?”

With a single touch to her own wrist, Dike sprung into its full form, lifted just high enough to cover the grin that was spreading across Amity’s face. She swung her sword experimentally in her hand, the little flecks of a glinting in the sun. “Yep.”

Luz took a deep breath and raised her own blade nodding once. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“No holding back, right?” Even though Amity had phrased it as a question, Luz knew better. It was a challenge. The nerves in her stomach faded, and a laugh escaped her lips.

“Since when have I ever held back? ”

She smirked, “good point.”

“Alright your adorable banter is literally making me sick,” Eda scoffed, “let’s just do this already.”

Lilith rolled her eyes, dropping her hand. “Begin!”

Without wasting another beat, Amity charged and swung, and Luz lifted Aletheia to deflect it. A loud metallic clang echoed around the arena, and the watching campers erupted into cheers.

It was Luz’s toughest match yet.

The two of them traded blow for blow, each pushing the other to their limit. Amity was, inarguably, better trained, with mastered precision and skill that left Luz reeling with each strike. But Luz was more creative. She was able to flick her sword at the right angle to push her off balance and shove, she was able to dodge and weave without the extra weight of a shield, and she was crazy enough to take steps closer to her and press into her personal space, forcing her to recalculate moves.

As the fight went on for some time, the cheering got louder, their arms got heavier as they began to slow down, and the fighting got dirtier.

Luz did it first, though it was kind of an accident. Amity went to swing when she’d knocked Luz off balance, and she knew she wasn’t going to be able to stop it before it cut into her armor. Amity would have taken it out on herself later if she’d seriously hurt Luz, so it came out as more of an instinctual shout.

“Too low!”

She closed her eyes bracing for impact, but it never came. With a woosh, the sword went right over her head. She opened her eyes and saw Amity’s misty eyes clearing, before changing to a completely indignant look.

“Did you just use your Hermes bartering on me?”

She smiled sheepishly and swung Aletheia towards her, and Amity barely had time to raise her shield to deflect it.

She could hear the snorts and chuckles from both Eda and the crowd, but Luz barely had time to be proud of herself. Within the next two swings back and forth, Amity got her revenge.

Luz swung upwards, flicking the blade and finally getting a decent move that knocked her off balance. But as Luz went to disarm her, Amity’s eyes flashed and a curled smile crept up her face right as Luz brought her weapon forward.

“Don’t!”

And for a moment, all Luz could feel was the thrum of her heartbeat in her head as her vision went blurry. There was an overwhelming urge to get rid of Aletheia, back away, stop herself from getting any closer to Amity. All she could think about was how she couldn’t hurt her, wouldn’t even try. When her vision cleared, she had backed up five feet, and her sword slipped from her hand and clattered in the dirt.

She blinked, trying to figure out what had just happened before it dawned on her that she’d seen Amity do this once before. Aphrodite’s passion.

Luz looked down at the sword, then up at Amity, scowling. “Really?”

Despite the smirk on her face, Amity’s eyes were sparkling with humor and affection. “You started it.”

Luz barely had time to leap out of the way from another swing, doing her best to make a grab for the sword, but Amity wasn’t coming to play. She stepped right over it, and for a couple of moments, all Luz had was her speed. She ducked and dodged and weaved between swings, doing nothing but buying herself a tiny bit of time.

It wasn’t enough. Luz tried to make one last grab for the sword and Amity reached out with her hand, grabbing Luz by the arm and honest-to-gods judo flipping Luz over her shoulder. With a comically loud “oomph!” Luz was thrown onto her back, looking up at Amity as she grinned, her sword lifted in a faux-threatening position just below her chin.

“Alright,” Luz groaned, slapping her hand against the dirt. “Mercy.”

As Luz heard Eda groaning behind her and Lilith’s positively gleeful “and the winner is Amity Blight!” Amity sheathed her sword, reaching down with one hand and pulling Luz up to her feet.

And yeah, it was a tiny bit embarrassing to lose to Amity. But as her girlfriend lifted her fist to the roaring crowd of campers and grinned, her own hand wrapped tightly around Luz’s, she couldn’t find it in her to care.

The following night was Luz’s last night at camp before her first summer as a camper was over. She sat at the dining hall for hours with her siblings, joking, laughing, promising to stay in touch over the school year. Viney ruffled her hair and passed her an emergency pouch of Hermes tricks, while Jerbo reminded her not to be too close to this one when it exploded.

Edric and Emira snuck up on Luz at the table and informed them their parents did in fact enroll them in the same boarding school come the fall, and while Luz loved Amity’s twin siblings, the devious grin on her face did make her a bit nervous.

Right after dinner, Luz made a point to go find Eda and King, who were in their usual spot at the arena.

“Kid!” Eda said as she approached. “That was some great swordplay today.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t win, I know Lilith is probably giving you a hard time…” Luz said immediately, but Eda just held up a hand.

“Gross, sympathy. You’ve accomplished more than most first-timers this summer, and you’ve… made me proud.” There was a crooked smile on her face as Luz looked up at her, and she realized that Eda really was going to miss training with her. “Don’t be slacking while you’re gone. Keep your skills sharp. Stay out of the bad trouble, but in the good trouble. Don’t die. Oh, and if you’re getting chased by another empousai and need a quick getaway, there’s a great alley on sixty-second street-”

Luz rushed in, pulling Eda into a tight hug. While Eda huffed out a little groan at Luz’s overwhelming need to be touchy, Luz felt a rush of affection as the daughter of Zeus leaned into it anyway.

“Thanks, Eda,” Luz muttered into her shoulder.

A hand came up to pat into her hair. “No problem, kid. If Lili and I are ever heading to Mount Olympus, I’ll make sure we stop by that fancy new school of yours and say hello.”

“You better.”

"Can I come too?" King called out from at their feet, and Luz bent down to pick up the tiny hellhound scratching behind his ears.

"Yeah, can he?" Luz pleaded, and Eda rolled her eyes.

"Gods, you two are just the cutest things ever. Fine, whatever, the next time I go to Olympus I'll let him tag along."

After a chorus of excited cheering from Luz and King, it was time for the last campfire of the year. Luz finally got the true Camp Half-Blood experience. As Eda was leading the campers in a final last hurrah of songs and games, she walked over to Luz and reached out, handing her a leather necklace.

“As you all know, per tradition, every year we give our campers a bead to celebrate another year at camp. This year, the Hermes cabin designed the beads, and there is someone very special they wanted to honor.”

Luz blinked at it, taking it gingerly, and as she did Viney stood up, the twisted smile on her face visible through the crackling orange, magical, campfire.

“Luz, not only are you our newest sibling, but you helped lead a quest that not only saved Camp Half-Blood but all of Olympus. So with permission from the councilors from all the cabins, we dedicate this year’s bead to you and your quest!”

There was a whooping of applause as the beads were passed out, and when Luz took a look at it her heart clenched, affection and gratitude washing over her in a whirl.

It was a beautiful deep purple bead with a very familiar-looking sword and shield, and as she turned it in the light of the campfire, the glint of the light made it glow a beautiful magical bronze.

“So, did we nail it?” Viney asked as Luz was left speechless. Willow and Gus were grinning over at her with knowing smiles. Next to her, Amity squeezed her hand, looking just as emotional as Luz felt.

Luz leaned over and threw herself into the embrace of her half-sister, and the campfire erupted into more whoops and cheers. And yeah, Luz might have teared up a bit as she sat back down next to her friends, but if anybody noticed they didn’t comment on it.

That morning as she packed up what few belongings she actually had, electing to leave a majority of the items she’d bought for next summer, she was digging through her backpack when her fingers touched something soft. She pulled out a stiff, slick, feather, and immediately broke into a smile. Carefully sliding it across the leather to dangle right next to her bead, she clipped the necklace on and slung her backpack over her shoulder. Saying one final goodbye to the Hermes cabin, she walked out the door to go meet Willow and Gus in the strawberry fields.

When she got there, she couldn’t help but grin. Around the growing collection of beads on their necklaces, five and four respectively, a single matching feather was dangling from the middle. While none of them said anything about it at first, Luz watched as both Willow and Gus glanced down, their eyes softening with affection.

“Well?” Willow asked as she reached them, gesturing towards the now distant Camp Half-Blood. “Give us the verdict. What did you think of your first year at camp?”

“I…” Luz didn’t even know what to say. Sure, there had been the lows. The hungry belly as she traveled across the Midwest, the sword slashes, the monsters, the horrible villain who’d threatened to destroy the world. But right now as Luz looked between her friends and her new home, she felt nothing but love for her new life. The mischievous half-siblings, the rivals between the cabins, the eccentric camp directing duo that was the daughters of Zeus, Gus, Willow, Amity…

Luz couldn’t ever recall a time in her entire life that she’d felt so full.

“All I can think right now is that I don’t want it to end,” Luz finally said, and Willow and Gus stepped forward to pull her into a group hug.

“It won’t end, at least, not really,” Gus promised, his voice muffled as he was shoved into Luz’s bicep.

“Yeah, it’s just a short break,” Willow nodded, leaning her head against Luz’s shoulder and wrapping her other arm around Gus. “And in two weeks, we’ll all be together again on a new adventure.”

Luz laughed, “yeah, because the life of a half-blood is never really quiet, is it?”

“Well, that’s half the fun of it,” Amity said from behind her, and when Luz turned her head she saw her girlfriend walking through the field to join them. Her own backpack was swung over her shoulder, and she had a genuine, at peace, smile on her face.

“Spoken like a true Blight,” Willow chuckled from next to Luz, and Amity laughed.

“Well, maybe I’ll get lucky and this year away from my parents will shake some of that out of me.”

“You’re sure you’re mom and dad are okay with you staying at my Mami’s for two weeks?” Luz asked for what felt like the sixth time that week, and Amity shrugged her shoulders.

“I’m back to being their number one, despite all the… drama, that happened the last time we saw them. Edric and Emira will pack my things for school for me. Honestly… it’s kind of nice not going back to Colorado.”

After getting a first-hand glimpse into how uptight and uncomfortable the Blight Manor was, Luz couldn’t help but agree.

“Don’t have too much fun you two,” Willow teased, and Amity flushed over the sound of Gus’ laugher while Luz bumped her with her shoulder.

Whatever retort Luz would have come up with died in her throat as she looked down towards the pine tree. There, a few parents were already waiting at the border, with some campers joining them and saying hello. Among the waiting ones, Luz saw a man almost identical to Gus, and two other men standing together with their hands interlinked.

“We better not keep them waiting,” Gus said slowly, but he looked back up at Luz with a frown. Willow was standing there as well, and for just another moment Luz felt that same rush of love.

“No, you shouldn’t. Amity and I will meet you at grand central in two weeks, okay?”

“Two weeks,” Willow affirmed, and Luz pulled the four of them into one last group hug before Willow and Gus grabbed their things and went to go join their parents at the pine tree.

It wasn’t a real goodbye, nowhere near it. But Luz couldn’t help but feel her throat close up at the sight of them reuniting with their parents. Gus’ dad scooped him up into the biggest hug, and one of Willow’s dads immediately took her backpack while the other one kissed her cheek.

She felt Amity’s warm hand close around hers, and when she looked back, the daughter of Aphrodite was smiling softly.

“It’s going to be okay.”

“I know,” Luz said, and she meant it. She squeezed her own hand around Amity’s, taking a moment to really let the gratitude she had for this camp, for these people, sink in.

It wasn’t long until she saw another familiar person join the other parents near the pine tree. Luz perked up immediately at the sight of her Mami, still dressed in her scrubs. She’d probably gotten off of a shift at the hospital and rushed all the way down to Long Island just to meet her and was looking around anxiously at the other gathering parents and campers.

“Is that her?” Amity sounded nervous, and when she looked over, she was reaching up with her other hand to self-consciously adjust her mint green hair.

“She’s going to love you,” Luz promised, giving her a reassuring kiss on the cheek. “She’s been talking about how excited she’s been to meet you for like, three weeks.”

“That… somehow makes me even more nervous,” Amity breathed out. Luz chuckled, adjusting the straps of her backpack over her shoulder as her Mami finally looked up and noticed them. She beamed so widely Luz could see it from all the way up in the strawberry hills, waving towards them.

“Well, then let’s do this together.”

Amity looked back at her one more time, taking a deep breath. “Alright. Together.”

And as they walked through the fields hand in hand, slowly getting farther and farther away from camp, Luz felt her anxieties about the coming months slowly begin to fade. That was part of the magic of Camp Half-Blood. The place wasn’t just a training ground for young demigods. It was a safe haven. A family. A place that, even miles and miles away from it, you always knew it would have your back. It would be there for you, whenever you wanted to return. So leaving it didn’t feel like a goodbye, not really.

Instead, it was the promise of another new beginning as a child of the gods.

[natalyelle]

Child Memories

Also on AO3

Katerina Shepard remembers some of her childhood memories, 538 words

A very OC-centric, a little self-indulgent story (in which you can also see that I recently finished reading Metro 2035). There is also mention of Thane!

Katerina is tired.

She put down the tablet with the letter from The Illusive Man, in which he once again praised the Cerberus mission and thanked her for being with them.

I am not with you. I am on my own way.

Katerina sighed heavily and leaned her head on her hand, staring at the aquarium opposite. Colorful fish happily moved in the turquoise water. Small translucent jellyfish hovered lazily in the aquarium lights. Her thoughts turned to Thane. He lived on Kahje, and it is completely covered with water. Katerina wondered what it's like to live underwater? Thane remembers his childhood exactly to every detail for sure. And does Katerina remember her own?

She was born on Earth, in Moscow, but lived there only until the age of three, when her mother returned to the service of the Alliance, and the whole family moved to the spaceships. As an adult, Katerina returned to her motherland, but she was sure that the city had changed since she was a child. Perhaps the only unshakable stronghold was the metro, especially the central stations, which were works of architectural art. Hell, those stations had even prompted her to quit the service and join the architect's profession, but she couldn't change her fate, and here she was again in space, among the stars.

She had always loved space, too. Getting up from the table, Katerina went down to her bed and collapsed on it, lay on her back and stared out the window in the ceiling, where the distant stars were flying.

What does she remember from her childhood? Thane feels good, he can relive the pleasant moments of his childhood... if he ever had them. And what about her? What's left of her childhood?

The flickering stars aroused vague images in Katerina. A small room, darkness, and lots of sparkling lights all around. Katerina closed her eyes and imagined it all vividly. Yellow, blue, and white stars around. A vague silhouette ahead. Katerina reaches out her hand and ... it rests against the glass. In the mirror. Katerina looks around and opens her eyes.

She remembered what this place was. It may have been the reason for her boundless love of space.

Space Pavilion.

Katerina visited the Space Pavilion at VDNH – Exhibition of Achievements of National Economy - every time she was in Moscow. It was a museum dedicated to all the successes and achievements of mankind in space. There are clippings from old newspapers, models of the first rockets, different types of the first spacesuits, interactive presentations and even games for children.

And this little room. Dark, shiny, magical. As a child, it seemed like the universe. It's like walking in the open deep space, away from the bright stars and planets, away from the problems and fuss. It was breathtaking, and a heart began to beat faster.

Katerina jumped out of bed. Definitely, this is a memory that you want to share with a loved one. She hurried to the Life Support room, to Thane. Perhaps he will share with her his childhood memory, which causes him similar feelings, and together they will be able to escape from problems and fuss for at least a few minutes.

To the stars.