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eu-nicola · 14 hours ago

Text

enemies

summary: the love-hate relationship between Rafe and you

warnings: small mention of violence

word counter: 4151

author's note: english is not my first language

The first time you met Rafe Cameron, you were barely six years old. You clearly remember how his stepmother, Rose, welcomed you into her home with a perfect smile, while your mother insisted that you play with him and Sarah so that you wouldn’t be alone.

The Cameron house was as intimidating as its miniature owner. Rafe was nine years old and had an attitude that made him seem much older. He looked down at you from the top of the stairs as if you were an intruder, someone who didn’t deserve to be in his space.

“She’s the Davies’ daughter?” he asked in that mocking tone that would become his trademark.

“Yes, and I want you to be nice to her.” Rose ruffled his hair before turning to you, but Rafe’s gaze was already fixed on your shoes, which were muddy from playing outside before coming in.

“I hope she doesn’t touch anything, Rose.” His voice was dry, as if he was already tired of you before he really met you.

From that day on, your relationship with him was marked by constant clashes. Every visit to the Cameron house felt like a cold war disguised as childish games. He always found ways to make you feel out of place, like the time he took your doll from your hands while you were playing with Sarah and threw it across the garden.

“If you don’t know how to play well, don’t play.” That phrase of his stuck in your mind.

In adolescence, the gap between you grew wider. While Rafe became the most popular boy among the Kooks, you began to spend more time with the Pogues. Your visits to the Cameron house became less frequent, and when they coincided, things always ended badly.

“Look at you, you’re a Pogue now.” His tone was always hurtful, accompanied by that arrogant smile that got on your nerves.

“And you’re still the same idiot as always.” Your response was almost automatic, as if after so many years the discussions between you were a rehearsed routine.

But the real problem wasn't just his words. It was the way he always found a moment to annoy you. During a beach party hosted by Kooks, for example, Rafe made sure your drink ended up spilled all over your new dress.

But it wasn't all enmity, when the search for gold began, your world became more complicated. You spent your days with the Pogues, planning, looking for clues, and trying to avoid Rafe, who seemed willing to do anything to get the treasure. The tension between you, which was already high, skyrocketed. It wasn't just childish enmity now; it was real danger.

Rafe had no limits. His eyes were always filled with that spark of arrogance, but behind it was something darker, something that made him unpredictable. Despite that, you never imagined you'd find yourself in the position you found yourself in one afternoon in the dense woods surrounding the Outer Banks.

You were following a trail of marks on the trees along with JJ and Kiara when you heard a noise. You broke away from the group, promising them you’d be back quickly. What you found was Rafe, kneeling beside a steep slope, holding his leg in a wince of pain. The ground beneath him was wet, almost muddy, and it looked like he might slide down any second.

You stopped dead in your tracks. Part of you wanted to turn on your heel and pretend you hadn’t seen him. After all, Rafe wouldn’t have done the same for you, would he? But another part, that part you always tried to stifle, knew you couldn’t just leave him there.

“What are you doing here?” Rafe snapped at you as you cautiously approached. His voice was heavy with distrust, but there was also a hint of relief he tried to hide.

“I should be asking you the same thing. What happened?” You couldn’t keep the tone of your voice from being harsh. After all, he had done a lot of things that warranted your hatred.

“I slipped. My leg… I can’t move it.” His face was pale, and his hands shook slightly as he tried to brush away the mud that covered his pants.

There was a long silence. You could have left him there. You could have turned and gone back to the Pogues. But something inside you wouldn’t let you.

“This doesn’t mean I owe you anything,” you said as you crouched down beside him.

Rafe looked at you in disbelief. “Are you helping me?”

“Shut up and don’t make it harder, Cameron.”

You offered him your arm and helped him up, leaning his weight on you as you slowly moved forward. It was an awkward process; his size made each step harder. But there was something odd about the silence you shared, a momentary truce amidst all the hostility.

When you finally dropped him off somewhere safe, away from danger, Rafe looked at you with a mix of wounded pride and something you couldn’t quite place.

“I’m not going to thank you,” he said at last, breaking the silence.

“I didn’t expect you to,” you replied, wiping the sweat from your brow. You turned to leave, but his voice stopped you.

“Wait.” His tone was softer than you’d heard before, almost vulnerable. You turned slowly to look at him.

“What?” you asked, tired.

“Did you see anything?” His question was direct, his gaze piercing.

You understood immediately. Rafe wasn’t just hurt; he was there for something related to gold. Maybe he’d found a lead, something he didn’t want the Pogues to know about. You could have told him the truth, that you’d noticed a map in his pocket when you helped him, but you chose to lie.

“No, I didn’t see anything.” Your voice was firm, although inside you felt a small knot of guilt.

Rafe seemed to relax a little, although he still looked at you with distrust.

Later, when the Pogues found a clue that fit too well with the area where you had seen Rafe, he understood what you had done. Someone, perhaps Sarah, told him that you were near the area when you separated from the group. It didn’t take much for him to put the pieces together.

The next time you saw him, his expression was completely different. There was no vulnerability or truce anymore, only fury.

“I knew I couldn’t trust you,” he snapped at you, coming dangerously close.

“What are you talking about?” You tried to remain calm, although you knew exactly what he meant.

“Did you think I wouldn’t find out? You lied to me. You took what was mine!” His voice was filled with rage, and though you knew it was unfair, there was something in his eyes that made you feel a pang of remorse.

“I don’t owe you anything, Rafe.” Your response was cold, though inside you felt more affected than you wanted to admit.

Rafe was silent for a moment, his jaw clenched, his gaze fixed on you. Finally, he took a step back, but not before making his feelings clear.

“Don’t ever cross my path again, Pogue.”

That was the beginning of a new phase in your feud, more bitter and personal than ever.

Your relationship with Rafe Cameron had reached a point where hatred seemed to be the only thing that united you. After your “betrayal” during the search for gold, any vestige of truce between you vanished. Although you would never admit it, there was something inexplicable that brought you back to square one: an enmity filled with tension, resentment, and something deeper that neither of you understood.

One of the worst fights you had occurred during a rainy night in the Outer Banks. The Pogues had been following Rafe, convinced that they had found another important lead to the gold. The chase led them to an old abandoned port, where you finally confronted them face to face.

“Always after me, aren’t you?” Rafe looked at you from the shadow of a warehouse, his soaked hair sticking to his forehead. The sound of the rain beat hard against the metal roof, but nothing could drown out the intensity of his voice.

“You have no right to that gold, Cameron.” Your words came out loaded with defiance as you clenched your fists. You knew you were probably playing with fire by facing him, but something in you couldn’t stop.

“And you are?” he replied, taking a step towards you. His eyes, dark under the rain, were filled with rage. “What makes you think you’re better than me, Pogue?.”

“For starters, I don’t try to kill people for him.” Your words made him laugh, a dry, bitter laugh that made you feel a chill.

“You think so?” Rafe leaned a little towards you, his voice lowering to an almost whispering tone. “You know perfectly well that you would do anything to protect your own, too. We’re not that different, even if it pains you to admit it.”

The argument soon turned physical. He tried to take the map from you, and you fought back with all your might. It was as if you were both so consumed by rage that nothing else mattered. You fell to the ground, feeling the cold wetness of the cement against your back, as Rafe tried to hold you down.

“Let me go, you moron!” you screamed, kicking him in the stomach.

“Give me the damn map!” he roared, clinging to your wrist.

For a moment, you thought it would all end there, that one of you wouldn’t walk away from this fight. But something changed. Rafe looked you straight in the eyes, and for a moment, his grip softened. He looked confused, as if he couldn’t understand why he couldn’t keep hurting you.

Finally, he let go of you and stood up, breathing heavily.

“I can’t do this.” His voice was barely a whisper, and it took you a few seconds to process what he had said.

“What…?” you were speechless, still lying on the ground.

Rafe ran a hand through his hair, taking a few steps away from you.

“Go away. Take the damn map and go away.”

But not everything always ended in a truce. There was another time when it was you who had to decide between helping him or letting him face the consequences of his own actions. It was during a smuggling operation that Rafe had organized to finance his obsession with gold. You found him cornered in an alley, with a group of men who clearly did not have friendly intentions.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he snapped at you when you appeared at the end of the alley. He was bleeding from a cut on his eyebrow, but he still maintained that defiant attitude.

“I saw your truck nearby.” You approached cautiously, analyzing the situation.

The men paid you no attention at first, but soon realized you could be a problem. One of them advanced towards you with a menacing smile.

“Another friend of yours, Cameron?” he said mockingly.

“Get out of here, Pogue. I don’t need your help.” Rafe’s voice was firm, but there was something in his gaze that made you stay.

Despite everything that had happened between you two, you couldn’t just leave him there. You picked up a rock from the ground and threw it hard at one of the men. It was enough to distract them and give Rafe a chance to fight back.

You helped him escape, though as soon as you turned the corner, Rafe turned to you, furious.

“Why do you keep butting into my business?” he shouted, grabbing you by the shoulders.

“Because I’m not like you, Rafe. I can't let someone die, even if they're an idiot like you.” Your answer made him let out an exasperated sigh, but he didn't say anything else.

In the end, it was always the same. They hurt each other, they hated each other, they betrayed each other... but they also always found a way to forgive each other. You didn't know why you did it. Maybe it was because you saw something in Rafe that others didn't see, or maybe it was because deep down you knew you weren't as different from him as you wanted to believe.

The only thing you knew for sure was that, no matter how hard you tried to hate him, something always made you go back to him. And the worst of all was that Rafe seemed to feel the same way.

Rafe Cameron drove you crazy in every possible way and that made you uncomfortable and annoyed, despite always finding gold on your path, you also found it on your path when you were calm, reminding yourself that you couldn't get rid of it even if you wanted to.

There were nights when the air was so thick that it was hard to breathe. The humidity was sticking your clothes to your skin, but it wasn't just the weather that made you feel this way; it was him.

Rafe Cameron always managed to find you, even when you didn't want to be found. His mere presence seemed to charge the atmosphere with an almost palpable tension, something that only existed between the two of you. Like that time on the dock, under the dim light of a broken streetlight. You were alone, waiting for JJ and Pope, when you heard their footsteps, firm, sure, approaching.

Your body tensed before you turned around. There he was, standing, with that arrogant posture that you detested so much. His messy hair and clenched jaw gave you every reason to hate him more than you already did. But as you looked at him, feeling his gaze sweep over every detail of you, there was something different, something that made you stop.

There was anger in his gaze, yes, but there was also something deeper, something dark that you recognized because you felt it too. Your hands clenched into fists, not because you wanted to hit him—though that was of course a tempting option—but because you wanted to stop the impulse that made you think about getting any closer than necessary.

It was a constant tug-of-war. One moment you wanted to push him into the water, make sure he disappeared from your life forever. But then, a part of you wanted to do the complete opposite, you wanted to get closer, erase the distance between you, and find out if that tension could transform into something more.

Rafe leaned against one of the dock posts, looking at you with a mix of defiance and curiosity. Everything about him seemed designed to provoke you. His gaze fixed, his shoulders relaxed but ready to move at the slightest hint of threat. It was so unbearably irritating, and yet, there was something you couldn’t ignore.

The wind blew hard, and you felt a chill run down your spine, but it wasn’t the cold that made you shiver. It was that unmistakable feeling of being on the edge of something dangerous, something you couldn’t control.

You wanted to kill him. For all the times he had made you feel less than, for every hurtful word, for every betrayal and fight. But at the same time, you wanted to get close enough to know if that spark you felt between you could catch fire.

But you didn't. You couldn't.

Instead, you took a deep breath, ignoring how your heart was pounding. You turned your back on him, your steps firm on the wood of the dock as you walked away. You knew that if you stayed one more second, the line between hate and desire could blur forever. And you weren't ready to face what that meant.

You felt him stand still, watching you as you left. You didn't need to look back to know that that feeling would continue to haunt you, just as much as he did.

And you were right, a few days later that line blurred.

There was a storm that night, one of those that seemed to split the sky in two with each flash of lightning. The rain was pounding on the roof of the old abandoned cabin where you had taken shelter, trying to escape the chaos that the Pogues and Rafe had caused in the last gold hunt. Your hands were shaking with rage, not so much from the cold, but from the frustration of knowing that Rafe had, once again, gotten you into this situation.

You were alone, at least that's what you thought, until you heard the door slam open. You turned quickly, looking for something to defend yourself with, but seeing that unmistakable figure enter soaked to the bone, your heart stopped.

Rafe.

"What the hell are you doing here?" you thought, although you didn't bother to say it out loud.

He slammed the door behind him hard, shaking off the water like a rabid dog. His dark hair, and his chest rose and fell with each heavy breath, as if he had run a marathon. His gaze met yours almost immediately, filled with that mix of fury and something more that always seemed to burn between you.

You didn’t say anything, but you didn’t look away either. There was something about him that night, something different. It wasn’t just the usual anger you two shared, or even the constant tension that seemed to surround you like a force field. It was something rawer, more real.

The silence between you was almost deafening, broken only by the roar of the storm outside. You felt the air in the cabin grow thicker, charged with electricity, as if lightning was about to strike right there.

“What? Are you just going to stand there staring at me like an idiot?” You had crossed your arms, trying to hide the trembling that ran through your body.

He didn’t answer, but he took a step towards you, slow, deliberate. You could feel the intensity of his gaze fixed on you, as if he could see past the facade you always tried to maintain. Your heart began to beat faster, and you hated that he had that effect on you.

“Rafe, don’t start,” you warned yourself mentally, even though you weren’t sure what it was you wanted to avoid.

But he kept coming closer. You could see every detail of his face now: the raindrops sliding down his jaw, the way his lips were pressed together as if he were holding something back. His presence filled the small space between you, and suddenly, the hatred you’d always felt for him didn’t seem enough to explain what was happening.

You didn’t know who made the first move. Maybe it was you, maybe it was him, but in an instant, the distance disappeared. His hand slid behind your neck, pulling you closer to him with a force that made you gasp. His mouth crashed into yours with an intensity that left you breathless, as if all that pent-up rage had finally found an outlet.

Your hands clutched at his wet shirt, trying to push him away and pull him in at the same time. The kiss wasn’t gentle, it wasn’t tender. It was an explosion of everything you had bottled up for years: the hatred, the frustration, the attraction that neither of you wanted to admit.

You felt his body press against yours, trapping you between him and the wall of the cabin. His breath was hot against your skin, mixing with the cold of the storm that continued to rage outside. His every move seemed to call out something you didn’t know you’d been holding back, and for a moment, you let yourself go.

But it was only a moment.

Suddenly, you pulled away, your hands on his chest as you tried to catch your breath.

“This… can’t happen.” Your voice was barely a whisper, shaky but firm.

He didn’t say anything, but the way he looked at you said it all. There was something in his eyes you hadn’t seen before, something vulnerable that completely disarmed you.

The storm outside continued to rage, but inside the cabin, all was calm. Rafe didn’t try to come closer again, and you didn’t dare look him in the eye as you turned away, your heart pounding so hard you felt like it might explode.

After that night in the cabin, something changed, though you both tried to act like it hadn’t. That first time was an accident, you kept telling yourself, something driven by rage and storm. But what happened next made it clear that there was something more, something that went far beyond hatred or tension.

It wasn’t long before you met again. It was in one of the alleys behind The Wreck, where you had hidden yourself after a fight with Sarah and the others. Rafe appeared as if the universe was conspiring against you. He didn’t say anything at first, just looked at you with that mix of arrogance and determination that seemed to be part of his essence.

“You’re not here to worry about me, Cameron. What do you want?” you had snapped harshly, crossing your arms as if that physical barrier could protect you.

He didn’t answer right away, but the glint in his eyes made it clear that he knew exactly what he wanted. What followed was just as impulsive as the first time: his lips finding yours with a burning urgency, your hands clinging to his shirt as if the world could fall apart at that moment and you wouldn’t care.

Logic disappeared when you were with him. All you had left were pure emotions: desire, rage, need. In those moments, you didn't think about the past or what was coming next. You didn't think about the fights, the betrayals, or the reasons why you were supposed to hate him. There was only his hands on your skin, the sound of his breathing, and the way he managed to make you forget everything else.

But the next day, there was always something that reminded you why you hated him. Like that time you saw him bullying Pope at the dock, his overbearing attitude making it clear that the Rafe of last night and the Rafe of today were two sides of the same coin.

"You're an asshole," you had yelled at him later, when you faced him away from the others.

He shrugged, as if he didn't care, but his gaze searched yours, almost defiant.

"Don't expect me to change for you," he seemed to say without words.

You walked away furiously, promising yourself that this would be the last time. You couldn’t keep falling for that game, not when he was still the same cruel boy you’d known all your life.

But then, something always drew you back. Like when he found you after you were almost caught in one of John B’s crazy antics. He helped you escape, even covering for you when the Kooks passed by. It was an unexpected gesture, one that left you bewildered as you shared a moment of calm on an old boat hidden in the swamp.

“Thanks, I guess,” you’d told him, though your words were filled with skepticism.

He smirked, the kind of smile that always got on your nerves.

“Don’t think about it too much.”

But you thought about it. Every gesture of his, every glance, every clandestine kiss was etched into your memory, fueling a cycle you couldn’t break.

Of course, you had your part in that dynamic, too. There were times when your own actions infuriated him, like the time you stole information from him about the gold hunt and shared it with the Pogues. His reaction was explosive: he found you on the dock, his gaze filled with betrayal and fury.

“What the hell did you think you were doing?” he said, his voice deeper than usual.

For a moment you thought he would leave you there, that this would be the end. But no. Even though you had betrayed him, even though you had defied him in every way possible, he always came back. Just like you came back to him.

123 notes · View notes

anachronismstellar · 2 days ago

Note

May I suggest a lady beast peak lord (handles beasts of burden and livestock + whatever the fuck LQQ drags home that's still alive) for the achievement ?? Possibly with the name Wu Qingfang?

And here we are, welcome my friend to the possession of Airplane, we can't escape him and he can't stop mixing up his peak lords, apparently DUSHSKDJSKD

And the moment I've seen your ask I fell in love with her aaaaa a woman that takes no shit from all the other lords PLUS can handle Liu-shidi nonsense? HELL YESS HERE WE GO

BTW thank you for her lovely name! :D I hope you like her as much as I enjoyed writing this!

Another thanks to everyone in this post that helped me with the name for the Long-Leg Kicking Pouch Hare creature, you guys are amazing! ❤️

The peak name I've borrowed from @00janeblonde's fanfic FAQ that you can find here!

------

One curious thing that might pass unnoticed by many was the proximity of An Ding peak with Ling You peak. After all, there was no logistics without the transportation, and there was no transportation without animals to pull carriages.

There was also the feeding of the entire Sect. All the dairy, the eggs, and the meat were under Ling You peak responsibility, while the logistics to who sent what fell under An Ding scope.

So Shang Qinghua walking around Ling You peak was a pretty common sight, especially when he had to bring a gift or another when one of the An Ding disciples fucked up a delivery.

It was one of those days, apparently, because Wu Qingfang had barely set foot outside her private quarters when Shang Qinghua turned up on her path, a pile of paper in one hand, a basket on the other, the suspicious smell of honey filling the air, making her stomach grumble.

"What did you do?" she didn't hesitate to pass by him. She had spent the past night organizing a hunt to find a batch of goats that had escaped their sheds after a disciple with their head on the clouds had left the latch lose, she was not in the mood for more trouble.

"Can't a Shixiong visit his favorite Shimei?" he turned on his heels to follow her, making the pressure on Wu Qingfang's head get tighter. Whatever it was, it was bad for him to bring bribes so soon in their little game.

"Oh please," she sent him a glare over her shoulder. "Everyone knows your favorite is Mu Qingfang, don't play coy with me."

"Okay, yes, he is my favorite shidi, but you are my favorite shimei!" he insisted and with quick steps they were walking shoulder to shoulder, the basket filled with sweets being swigged back and forth in front of her. "Wu-shimei please, I swear is not that bad, I just need to send a carriage to Hua Hua palace-"

"Hua Hua- Why?!" The sound of her shoes scraping the ground was too loud for the soft morning, but she couldn't help to turn around and stare at him in surprise. A tripe long like that would take weeks to prepare! "What could you possibly want with those people?!"

And she hated that it kinda worked when he blinked his big brown eyes at her, pulling back the cloth covering the basket, the sweet scent of melon making her mouth water. She squinted her eyes at him, too stubborn to let him win so quickly. Especially when the last time Shang-Shixiong had pulled a stunt like that, she had lost three good horses.

"A little bird told me that they got their hands on a very rare flower, and I need it for Shen-Shixiong-"

"Oh I see how it is," she rolled her eyes, turning her back to him again to keep walking to her office. "You fucked up and now you want my help to get back on his good graces."

"Shimei, pleaseee," he whined, pouting so hard it was a miracle his lips didn't get stuck like that. "I miss our go games and I even don't know why he's so angry at me!"

She snorted in the most unlady manner, rolling her eyes. She knew damn well what he did, in fact the entire Sect did. Or better, who he did. But if Shang-Shixiong was going to play coy, she wasn't going to be the one to burst his bubble. And with a glint in her eyes she took a sharp turn to the left, away from the main building. He wanted to pull this nonsense on her? Fine. He might as well fight for it and help her take care of a very special animal first.

They arrived at the stables after a few minutes of walking and Shang-Shixiong whining about his very hard life. Wu Qingfang ignored it all, taking the papers and basket from his hands to shove an apron on his arms, feeling a little smug to see him fumble to not make it fall on the ground.

"I'll think about it, first you have to help me with her," she said as she pointed her thumb at the last stall where a huge form laid on its side. It was one of the few stalls that had iron bars all over, looking more like a cage.

"Uh." Shang Qinghua took a cautionary step back when he noticed the huge beast behind bars, a nervous chuckle escaping his throat. "What- what is that?"

The that in question had the form of a huge hare, the size of at least two tall men when standing on its feet. It could run on his lower legs and use its upper paws to punch and attack. It was a ferocious thing with poisonous fangs and claws, with a thick fur that shined brown during spring and pure white during winter.

It was one of the most beautiful beasts Wu Qingfang had ever seen, and she wished she could hug it until it made noise.

"Oh she is a Long-Leg Kicking Pouch Hare!" she said after a quick pause to decide where put Shang-Shixiong's things, dropping it on top of a block of hay before grabbing an apron for herself. "Liu-shidi said that she attacked him on his last hunt, but she was already too hurt. So he brought her to me to see if I could help."

"I-Is it safe for her to be here?!" Shang Qinghua squeaked, hiding behind one of the empty stalls.

"Oh, dont be silly, she's sweetheart!" Wu Qingfang gushed as she opened the stall, pulling Shang-Shixiong by his wrist. "Come, she's still sleeping from last night meds, and I need to change her wrappings."

He stared at her as if she had gone mad. She didn't mind thought, she knew that the only other peak lord that shared her enthusiasm for animals was Liu-shidi.

With needles ready, she let go of Shang Qinghua to puncture the beast in the right places to keep her sleeping. After that was just a matter of checking vitals, cleaning up her wounds, and applying some salve. By the look on her belly, she might have a litter soon, so Wu Qingfang wanted to release her before she gave birth, or the little stall would be too cramped. Not to mention how protective the mother would become, too dangerous to be kept.

Surprisingly enough, when he realized the Kicking Hare wasn't going to wake up and eat him, Shang Qinghua was really helpful. He wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty, only making a funny face when the Hare's belly moved when the babies adjusted themselves.

They worked quickly, and in no time Kicking Hare was all wrapped up in clean bandages, the soft smell of salve mixing up with alcohol and wet fur. They put the aprons away, and Wu Qingfang was satisfied enough with Shang Qinghua's help to consider his request. And she was ready to get her sweets and tell him that she would help him with Shen-Shixiong bad humor when-

A loud noise of something extremely heavy hitting the ground reached them both making the stable walls tremble, followed by a grunt that Wu Qingfang would recognize anywhere.

They stepped outside to meet Liu Qingge next to a huge type of lizard, covered in dirt and blood.

Wu Qingfang didn't even blink. After Shang Qinghua, Liu Qingge was the other peak lord that would barge into Ling You peak as if it were his second house, but for entirely different reasons. Usually involving huge monsters laying dead in front of Wu Qingfang's doors, ready to be butchered and harvested. Or, like Long-Leg Kicking Pouch Hare, he would bring life beasts, creatures that gained his respect for being good fighters. And Wu Qingfang would care for each of them before setting them back to freedom.

Interestingly though, she didn't remember any other occasion when they have met each other in her peak. Which meant she had never seen them interacting outside peak meetings before. Not to say she couldn't notice how hard Liu-shidi was blushing, doing his best to fix his ponytail, while Shang-Shixiong looked at him from head to toe, his qi warming up the air around him.

Men, as subtle as a thunder hippo in a storm.

"Shidi," she stepped in front of the War God, forcing him to look at her. "What brings you here so soon?"

Having being snapped from whatever was his glaring contest with Shang-Shixiong, he went back to his practical self, hands on his back with feet parallel to his shoulders in a ready stance.

"I came here to deliver my last hunt and request Wu-shijie to lend me her tools so I can clean it up."

"Is that a Southern Fire Komodo?" Shang Qinghua approached the creature, staying a good few steps away from it just in case. Although it looked pretty dead by the pool of bright blue blood coagulating around it.

Apparently Liu-shidi was able to control himself this time, only his very visible ears turning beet red as he shuffled his feet. Still he made himself nod at Shang-Shixiong's question, then going on to explain what were his plans for the skin and the meat. It never ceased to amuse Wu Qingfang how Liu-shidi would eat everything he hunted down, at least once.

It gave Mu Qingfang several white hairs, so it made her giggle a little too much.

"- and for the bones I was thinking of using it to craft into a staff. They're very strong."

"You should give some to Wei-Shixiong, I bet he could carve a nice handle for a sword out of it."

"I hate to interrupt the flow of ideas, Shixiong, Shidi, but to make it all happen, first you have to harvest it," and she was being sincere about it, the past minutes have been fascinating to watch Shang-Shixiong get closer and closer to Liu-Shidi as the War God puffed out his chest like a proud bird showing off his catch. "Come, Shidi, I wasn't expecting you, so I have to see if Wen Rong has finished using my knives."

"I better get going then," Shang Qinghua turned to give her a little bow, batting his eyelashes at her one last time. "Will shimei consider my request?"

"I'll return your basket with my answer, Shixiong," she smiled sweetly at him, going to join Liu-shidi who was already a few steps ahead.

The sound of hissing made the three peak lords freeze, and the sound of whipping made them jump into action, hands going to their swords. But even on the brink of death, the Komodo creature was faster than lightning, using its tail to sweep at the cultivators with vengeance.

Actually, sweep at Shang Qinghua, the one close enough to be hit by it.

The following seconds seemed to pass as if they were under a slowing spell. There was a whizz on Wu Qingfang's ears as Shang Qinghua jumped on his sword to fly over the Komodo's tail. When she thought she would be able to catch her breath, Shang Qinghua grabbed the handle of his blade, twisting his body in a flurry of fabric, using his weight to stab the creature right on its belly. Blood splattered everywhere, painting yellow An Ding robes in electric blue as Shang Qinghua dragged his sword all the way to the Komodo's neck, the warm stank of viscera hanging in the air.

"Holy shit," she heard Liu-shidi mumble next to her, snapping her out of her surprise.

"Shixiong!" She screamed as she rushed towards him, almost slipping on all the blood. "Shixiong are you okay?!"

"I'm fine!" the squeak came from somewhere next to the head of the beast, so Wu Qingfang went around the mess to avoid dirtying herself as well. She found him lying on the ground, an arm covering his face while his other hand grasped firmly on his sword, the blade so deep inside the creature she could barely see the handle.

"Shidi! Go call Mu Qingfang-"

"Nooo!" he went to pull her robes, cursing as he realized that he had messed up her clothes. "Shimei, no, please, I'm fine, promise!" and to prove his point he stood up in a quick jump, giving her a twirl. "See? Nothing broken, not even a scratch! Please don't bother Mu-shidi, please?"

And once again he blinked his big brown eyes, and even though he was drenched in blood, she couldn't help but sigh.

"So uh..." Liu-shidi said after cleaning up his throat, pulling their attention to him. "Should I call Mu Qingfang or...?"

And in a snap of fingers, Shang Qinghua took over the situation, putting himself between Wu Qingfang and Liu Qingge.

"No need, no need, Liu-shidi. Why don't you go fetch Wu-shimei's head disciple to grab her knives and take care of this mess?" He said as he put his hand on Liu Qingge's lower back, gently moving him away from them. "I'm fine, Wu-shimei will let me clean up and she will keep an eye on me, won't you, shimei?"

She seriously considered shoving him back on the puddle of blood, just for putting her on the spot like this. But she apparently had a case of weak knees when Shang-Shixiong dropped his voice all honey sweet.

She couldn't let him find out or she would be in serious trouble.

"Right, please Liu-shidi, go talk to Wen Rong, he will help you. I'll take care of Shang-Shixiong in case the blood has any poison."

Shang Qinghua kept nodding his head like a silly doll but lowered his voice to mumble something on Liu Qingge's ear along the lines of "I'll teach you later." Wu Qingfang couldn't see Liu-shidi's face, but she could see the back of his neck red as peppers.

"Shixiong," she called with a wave of her hand, pausing only to get his things left in the stables to guide him towards her private quarters. On the way, she pulled a disciple to request a bath and clean clothes.

It took a few minutes to get everything ready, time that she used to examine Shang Qinghua's eyes and tongue, checking for any signs of poisoning. She found nothing, but better safe than sorry.

"You bath is ready, go," she gently shoved him to the next room. "The clothes are there as well, if you feel anything scream. Understood?"

"Yes, shimei," he said with a smile over his shoulder. Then it was a game of waiting, with Wu Qingfang pretending not to be worried sick while Shang Qinghua took his sweet time. To occupy herself, she went over her cabinets for all types of antidotes she could find, on top of requesting at least three types of tea. It wouldn't hurt to be prepared.

Honestly, she was about to bust into the room property be damned when he finally stepped out.

She had misjudged his size entirely. The robes were too small, the fabric taut over his shoulders, the tight sleeves of her peak uniform showing off strong arms capable of carrying weights upon weights all day. No wonder his sword had cut thick scaly skin like butter.

She refused to lower her gaze to his legs, forcing herself to stare at his face framed by his wavy hair. She had only seen it down at formal peak meetings, even so the strands had been pulled away from his face.

He looked younger like this. Softer.

"This Shixiong thanks his shimei for her hospitality," he said with a formal bow. "I hope you don't mind me being so forward, but I used a bit of your hair oil."

"Not- Don't worry about it," she blinked several times, trying not to think of him dressed up in her colors and with her perfume all over him. She was the Beast keeper but she wasn't a beast herself! She had self-control!! "Come, I got you some tea, and some pills for you to take, just in case."

Shang Qinghua didn't say anything, letting himself be fussed over, eyes crinkling in a poorly hidden smile. See if she gets worried about him again!

And to knock the smile off his face she decided that a little needling would do him good. "I didn't know you and Liu-shidi were intimate," she casually dropped as her form of petty revenge, doing her best to appear innocent as Shang Qinghua choked on his bitter tea.

"Who- What? No, uh, we just-"

"Shixiong," she made an effort to say it as kindly as possible, to show him she wasn't going to tease him. Much. "You are aware the entire Sect has eyes, correct?"

"O-of course I know that, what type of question-"

"So you know everyone already noticed you getting Sect Leaders left and right wrapped around your fingers. Right?"

He coughed a bit more, eyes so wild she was afraid they might pop out of his face. He opened and closed his mouth like fish, his blush making her want to squeeze his face.

She took a sip of her own tea, nothing like the nasty dirt water Shang Qinghua was being made to drink, as she considered how to break down the news to him.

Should she be the one to tell him about his reputation? Or should her just mention how the head disciples were running a ridiculously high bet on who would be the next Peak Lord to fall for Shang Qinghua charms? It was tempting to let him figure it out for himself…

Or.

Or she could get herself a little something out of the situation as well.

"Shang-Shixiong,” she sighed as she put her cup down, crossing her hands over her lap as she gave him a look up and down. “I know your friendship is not as deep as yours with Mu-shidi,” she couldn't resist giving him a knowing look that made his blush deepen and avoid her eyes. “But I consider ourselves friends enough that I can speak plainly.”

“... O-Of course, shimei.”

“Good. Now, with all due respect, for the past year or so I've seen you flirt your way to get Zhangmen-Shixiong and Shen-Shixiong into having a calm discussion without tears and blood for an hour. It’s also worth mentioning how things have been less explosive on Wan Jian peak, and!” She raised her voice slightly the moment he opened his mouth to protest. “I’ve just seen you pull Liu-shidi by his waist. And he seemed to like it.”

He scratched the side of his face, once again looking everywhere but her eyes. She knew he wasn’t embarrassed, she had seen him truly embarrassed before, but she could see he didn’t know what to do with her knowledge of his romantic affairs.

“I’m not scolding you, I hope you understand that,” she said after a quick pause, ignoring the tug at her heart when he turned his big puppy eyes at her. “I’m just wondering what you are trying to achieve with all this… And if you would be interested in joining the betting poll.”

That made him snap his eyes back at her faster than Shen Qingqiu opening his fan to ignore Zhangmen-Shixiong. “Wait, there’s a betting poll?”

“Oh Shixiong…” she tsk at his lack of foresight, shaking her head slightly. “Of course there’s a betting poll. This has been the most exciting thing to happen since last recruitment.”

He let out a small “Huh” of surprise, crossing his arms (crossing his arms which she was not looking at, definitely not- as he bit the corner of his thumb. He got quiet for a good while, eyebrows frowning as his eyes darted side to side in the face she had seen him doing when he got caught trying to figure out big numbers.

“Before you ask, I’m not going to give away my mole,” she said as she popped one of the small cakes he had brought her that morning, the crunchy melon seeds mixed with honey giving her something delicious to chew on while he scrambled to figure out how all that had happened behind his back.

“Okay, fair. But, Shimei, what exactly is everyone betting on?”

“A couple of things,” she took another small cake, amused as he leaned forward, as if she was about to tell him the hottest gossip he has ever heard. Technically it was true, so she couldn’t blame his curiosity. “There’s a bet about you sleeping with all the peak lords and ladies. That one is not as high as it could be because, well, it’s known that some peak lords and lady wouldn’t be interested. And then there’s a second bet, involving who is the next peak lord that is going to fall for your tricks-”

“Tricks?! I’m not-”

“Shh, and there’s another one about when is Mu-shidi going to actually confess his love for you and stop your flirting ways-”

“Now, hold on for a second-”

“And finally there’s a bet among a select group of Peak Leaders on who is going to seduce you before you seduce them.”

“Oh my Heavens. Is this Wei-Shixiong doing? It has his fingers all over it, I can feel it.”

“I don’t know, Shixiong, but between the two of us, you would be the one knowing how Wei-Shixiong hands feel, I guess.”

“Shimei!”

She just shrugged, unbothered by his hypocritical sense of shame. “Do you want to get your carriage to Hua Hua palace or not?” she asked before he could start scolding her. Not that would do much, she had seen him too many times out of his mind after spending weeks without sleep to take him that seriously.

He paused, biting the corner of his lip, and if she squinted her eyes hard enough she would see his brain working the pros and cons.

“Okay, what do you suggest?”

She clapped her hands to clean the crumbles out of her fingers, giving him a honeyed smile.

“You help win one over Wei-Shixiong and spread the rumor that we are going to spend a lot of time together. Then Wen Rong will bet on my name next round. In exchange I will get your carriage to Hua Hua Palace so you can jump back on Shen-Shixiong bed.”

“Hmm…” Shang Qinghua kept playing with his empty cup of tea, wobbling it left and right. During her little speech he kept stealing glances of her, head tilted to the side. She was starting to get nervous, reaching for another cake just to do something with her hands when he grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her hand closer, eating the cake from her fingers.

Her entire brain went blank and suddenly she could only smell honey, jasmine and the bitter tea from his cup, her heart stuttering to a stop.

“Isn’t shimei curious, though?” he asked against her thumb, licking the crumbs on it before kissing the palm of her hand. “Shimei has called it so many things, tricks, spell… Even so, I have seen shimei looking at me after my bath…”

She should stand up and send him away, money and pettiness damned. Yes, they have been flirting for the past months, but she refused to be just another mark on his list. She shouldn’t be considering his shameless suggestion but a voice that sounded suspiciously like Wei-Shixiong whispered in her ear that if the rumor was to be out and about, why not have a taste of the real thing for herself? Why not enjoy the strength of his hands on her waist like Liu-shidi did just hours before, why not push him to his limits and see what he was capable of?

It was as if he was reading her mind, because Shang Qinghua wasted no time in pulling her hand closer, kissing the inside of her wrist. He kept pressing soft kisses up her arm and when the table got in the way he slid it to the side so he could pull her by her waist, moving her hair to the side so he could caress her cheek, giving her no time to think, no time to breath-

“Tell me, Shimei, was it jealousy in your eyes when you saw me touching Liu-Shidi? Did you want it to be you?”

She wanted to scream no, because she didn’t! She really didn’t!! But she couldn’t deny how she wished he had lowered his voice to her, making promises of later encounters.

But to admit that would be giving in too easily.

“One cannot be jealous of one that doesn’t belong to them, Shixiong,” she made herself say instead, keeping her eyes forward to not fall for his tricks, biting the inside of her cheek to hold back a gasp when he pressed his nose against her neck.

“Oh, is that it? Do you want me to belong to you, Shimei?” and then he dared to kiss her shoulder over her robes. The heat of his mouth hadn’t even touched her sensitive skin and she was already trembling, mouth dry. “So does it make you happy to see me in your colors? Or maybe is the scent of your perfume all over me that makes you shiver?”

Oh he was a demon. He was a demon that knew too well how to read her, how to make it impossible to not fall into temptation. She looked at him, swallowing dry at the sight of his hair curling softly around his face, still wet from his bath. And those damned soft brown eyes, staring at her as if he could see her desire written all over her soul, the most annoying smirk on his lips. She wanted to bite, she wanted to squish his face until he was pouting again, she wanted for him to pin her down, she wanted to fight him and lose-

He pounced and she let herself be caught, tangling her hands on his soft hair, pulling him closer until he was pressing her down the floor. He moved as if he needed to devour her entirely, biting and sucking the thin skin of her throat, marking her just like she wished to mark him.

“S-Shixiong-” she gasped, her hands going down on his back, nails catching in the folds of the fabric as she desperately tried to hang on as he bit down her clavicle hard enough to sting. He licked the bruise on her tanned skin and she melted, a sigh escaping her lips as he pushed her robes to the side, scraping his teeth over plump skin, teasing a bite that never came, both of them pausing at the loud sound of fabric being torn apart.

“I think-” Shang Qinghua said against her chest, voice muffled by her robes. “I think I just ripped my pants.”

A giggle bubbled out of her lips as she realized the ridiculous situation they were both in. And it should ruin the mood, laughter filling the air instead of the previous moans, but she realized she actually liked the lightness of it. It was mostly for the bet but it was fun, especially when she noticed his warm smile as he admired her with mussed up hair and ruffled clothes.

“Now, I would love to make good on my word here and now, but I believe my favorite shimei deserves a better treatment than her office floor where anyone could walk on us,” he said as he took her hand again, biting the tip of her finger.

“I think I agree,” she answered with a gasp and a nod, carefully taking her hand away from his mouth to sit down and pull him to a sweet kiss before dragging him to her rooms, their laughter becoming moaning once more.

—------

“Ye Ling.”

“Wen Rong,” she gave him a nod, not bothering to raise her eyes from her thick notebook filled with notes, not even when he set a big bag of coins next to her wet stone.

“I came to make a bet.”

Still she didn’t look at him, putting her brush down to open the bag and count the money. She did raise her eyebrows at the amount, though. This might have been all his savings. Or he had a patreon.

Considering who his shizun was…

“Betting on your own peak lord or lady is against the rules.”

“What?! But Ming Fan made a bet on Shen-shishu three days ago!”

“And then he was made to pay back all the money he won when I found out he had set Shen-shishu to have a private meeting with Shang-Shizun.” She said as she pushed the money back on his bag, dangling it in front of him so he could catch it. “Hence why we made the rule. Don't blame me, blame Qing Jing peak for not being smart enough.”

Thank Heavens he didn't try to fight, grabbing his pouch and turning around to leave the small room she had been using as headquarters for her operation. More like a closet, actually, she thought as she glared at the broom resting next to her on the wall.

It was his heavy footsteps that made her look up again, frowning at the other head disciple.

“Shidi, rules are rules-”

“I want to make a new bet.” And she could see by his own surprised look that he was bluffing. She felt a twitch of pity for him, Wu-shishu was a scary woman, to go back to her with empty hands would be the same as asking to clean the stables for months.

“I want to bet on him finding out,” he kept talking and the mere thought of it sent all her hairs up. She would be in so much trouble it wasn't even funny, she would be so dead Shizun would send her to work on a faraway farm and-

“Do you know something?”

“I don't know,” he crossed his arms, too smug for someone who had been just sent away with their tail between their legs. “But I need to make a bet and this is my choice. I bet that Shang-shishu will find out about the bets before next month.”

She wanted to say no, to send him away again, but that would be the same as calling herself a coward. She glanced at the pouch on his hand and then at him, giving her brush a good bite before sighing in defeat.

“Alright, one bet in the name of Wen Rong: Shang Qinghua will find out about the betting before next month. Your bet will be added to the poll.”

“Thank you,” he said as he dropped the money on her improvised desk. “See you next month, shijie!” And then he walked away, closing the door behind himself.

“See you next month, shijie,” she mumbled as she made a face, then showed her tongue at the door. Her anger was short lived though, the weight of his words hitting her fully.

“Oh God, I'm so dead.” She whispered at no one, groaning as she hid her face between her hands.

Time was ticking, and now she had a month to find a way to tell her shizun about her little scheme.

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

I did it!! The fic curse fought me tooth and nail but I finished!!!

And with more disciples shenanigans!!! jsbskdnsnd :D

I was so tempted to make Mobei-Jun show up behind Ye Ling and scare the shit out of her yall have no idea fjsbakdnakdn but that would be throwing another character for me to deal with, so no Mobei-Jun............ Yet

Next on the list is Divination Peak! :D I have an idea, Wikipedia links and a dream of surviving the end of the semester, so it might take a moment but I'm gonna finish this!!!

BTW, there are still two slots open for peak lords/ladies! If you want to suggest a name and a peak, please do!

And here is the masterpost of this AU

Thank you so much for giving this a read!!! It makes me so so happy to see you guys enjoying this, you have no idea <3

That's it for today folks! See you on Peak 9/12!!!

#scum villian self saving system #svsss #shang qinghua #sqh 12/12 achievement #sqh gotta catch them all #Wu Qingfang (beast peak lady)#once again this has gotten out of my control #aaaaaaaa #but I hope yall like it ❤️

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taliesin-the-bored · 3 days ago

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Tag game: tag nine people you’d like to know better.

Tagged by: @oneshoulderangel (Thank you for tagging me!)

Last song: At the moment, I have "Losing Your Memory" by Alan Star stuck in my head, which I suppose makes it my current song, not my last song. Hm. I get songs stuck in my head very easily, but the last one I had there for a significant amount of time was a mashup of different language versions of "Les Rois du Monde" for about a week. "Lehetsz Király", the Magyar version, is probably my favorite of them. It's worth a listen.

Currently watching: Normally, the answer would be "random mostly terrible old movies/shows" or "nothing much", but I currently have a hyperfixation on the musical Roméo et Juliette and have been watching it in multiple languages. (Thus, the song).

Three ships: This is hard. Maybe as a result of being on the ace and aro spectrums, I'm more likely to care about which characters are interacting than whether it's romantic or platonic. Here goes:

Kedivere/Bedikay. It can be romantic, platonic, or queerplatonic, but whichever way, I'm here for it. I probably spend too much time thinking about how in Cullwch and Olwen, when Cai gets mad at Arthur and marches out, Bedwyr stays behind, keeps acting like nothing's happened, and isn't the one to avenge Cai's death. The feeling of betrayal on both sides has a lot of unexplored potential. And the version where Bedivere dies and Kay fights to bring his body back safely while mortally wounded himself... And the version where Bedivere survives Camlann and Kay isn't said to fight in it, so they might be left together after their world has fallen apart...

Platonically or queerplatonically, Galahad and the Grail Heroine. I really like the tragic Grail Quest friendships, but I like theirs most, maybe because there's something weird and otherworldly about them both. I like it when characters are strange and endearing and doomed by the narrative.

Ever since reading John Matthews' retelling, which I read before the original, I've had a soft spot for Caradoc and Guinier. The Story of Caradoc is very disturbing, and I have some major qualms with Caradoc over a detail Matthews cut out, but all the same, there's a reason these two have the best track record with magical fidelity tests. Each of them would go to the ends of the earth for the other, and together, they're stronger than any curse.

Favorite Color: Blue, particularly royal blue and some teals.

Currently consuming: Black licorice with chocolate.

First ship: This is a hard one, since through elementary and most of middle school, I tended to go along with whatever I thought the author's intentions were and was more likely to unship something. The first non-endgame ship I got invested in was Sonya/Nikolai in War and Peace. I didn't like Nikolai, but Sonya did, and she was my favorite character, so I wanted her to be happy. The first non-canon couple I thought was meant to be together was also in War and Peace: Marya Bolkonskaya and Julie Karagina. My eighth grade self did not think their letters could be interpreted platonically. I still don't.

Last movie: If the musical doesn't count, the last movie I watched was Quest for Camelot, which was awful. Though not Robot Monster-level bad, Robot Monster has an elegance to its simplicity which Quest for Camelot lacks.

Currently working on: Various fics, most of them Arthuriana or CotRK-related (I am woefully behind on the Badfic Bingo), and (theoretically) an epic-style poem, though I haven't gotten much of it written for quite a while now.

Tagging: @gawrkin, @emperorcandy, @wildbasil, @gorewound, @knightsofsomethingorother, @ladyminaofcamelot, @tasosotaso, @amashelle, @gingersnaptaff (I have no idea who's been tagged so far, apart from the people on @oneshoulderangel's post, so I apologize for any multi-tags)

#tagging game #I might have rushed this but I was worried I was going to spend a long time overthinking it if I didn't #I have one ask for a theme song for Kay from the Spring which I still haven't answered #despite having a whole playlist for him #because I'm not sure any of the songs are good enough and after all this time the stakes seem higher #It was an anon too so the chances are the person will never see it at this point #I'm counting this getting posted as a rare win for non-perfectionism

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daretoassume · 1 day ago

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Hello , I hope you see this.

I might be a bit desperate.

So 2 years ago I wanted to kill myself but then I had a huge “spiritual awakening” where I say things beyond human comprehension. And from that moment I decided to give life a chance, I knew that life actually had a meaning and that was for me to discover what was beyond what I could think. It gave my so much clarity of the world around me and who I was. From that moment I also started to randomly consciously manifest things without knowing about manifesting. I’m not kidding when I say this but in that time I manifested 6 million overnight while I was just kidding about being a millionaire while listening to my rich music and then when I woke up my parents had the good news. I also manifested others things that I thought where extremely special. But I didn’t really put in effort it was just fun experimenting with my powers.

So then I decided to deepen myself in the laws. I started with law of attraction. And I ended up meditating so deeply everyday that I was so passionate about finding the ultimate truth of reality inside me, that I was extremely depersonalised from my 3D and basically lived inside my brain. I could ask things and receive answers on my questions, like the one time i asked how to invent something that could end humanity ( I still have a full doc on how to build to most effective machine that could end humanity in less than second) I also got the answer of questions about reality and my vessel. So that’s when I realised there was nothing but me. And that I was experiencing myself from the experience of myself ( if that makes sense!) I found that there really was nothing and everything at once while I was giving meaning to it. So that’s when I started with extreme anxiety and depression because I struggled so much with intrusive thoughts, not being able to ground myself in this reality and being so so scared of my thoughts. Still to this day my thoughts scare me so much that I can’t help but experience anything other than fear from myself. It’s like I’m living in a constant nightmare. I have watched so much law of assumption post and videos dedicating every second of my day on being focused and disciplined to affirming and being in the state of having what I want, but it makes me so fuckiyn angry and I don’t know why. Everytime I see a post I feel depressed because deep down I know everything but everyday I wake up in the same reality where everything fucking sucks ( I have been forcing myself to be kind self love gratitude letting go void state visualisation whatever exist I’ve done it all) and when I finally have build up that trust that everything is working out in my highest favour and I always get what I want and the 3D can’t tell me nothing yk I can delude myself into knowing I have it but it’s been over a year and I just can’t bear this reality anymore I know I’m meant for another reality and there’s just nothing for me to find here anymore. And I really don’t know what to do anymore I feel like I’m stuck in this reality where everything seems to get worse. And my thoughts are also getting worded everyday for the last year but whenever I tried manifesting a better self concept mindset etc it got worse when i don’t even want to be the person that is in conflict with themsef because that’s just a idiotic thing to do. But can you help me out?🫶

what you experienced, everything that you learned, was so profound. it is truly a gift to have such insight, so treat it as such. try to examine why it scares you so deeply. there is something within that fear that is asking to be understood.

you have seen how effortlessly you created before, simply by being playful and detached. you were experimenting, having fun with it, and not placing too much importance on the outcome. that is why there was no resistance. things flowed into your reality flawlessly. you already understand the law. you know how to apply it to your life. you do not need another blog post or video to teach you what you already know.

what you need now is to go deeper within yourself, to truly understand why you feel this way. these feelings are not here to torment you but to guide you toward something deeper. perhaps there is a message waiting for you, something significant you need to uncover, or even a realization that you are meant to share with others. your emotions, no matter how overwhelming, are part of your journey. they may be pointing you toward a greater understanding of yourself and your purpose.

if you feel an inner pull to create something meaningful, to express yourself, or to pursue something that sparks joy, do not ignore it. act on it. even if it feels small or insignificant at first, do it. follow what excites you, even in the simplest of ways.

i know it’s easier said than done, especially when it feels like the weight of the world is on your shoulders. but remember, we both know the truth—what we focus on expands. even a small shift in focus toward what you prefer can create change. we often feel so much these days that we forget to acknowledge what we can be grateful for. take a moment and ask yourself: what are you truly grateful for right now? your family, your friends? doesn’t it bring you some happiness to know you’ve learned so much already? i am not saying you are ungrateful. i am suggesting that maybe starting with gratitude, even in the smallest way, could help shift your attention, even just a little.

as you take time for introspection to truly understand what is behind these emotions and why you feel the way you do, you might also set some goals for yourself. try doing something that excites you, even if it’s small. i know this reality can feel limiting, and maybe that’s why you feel like you don’t belong here. but if you see it as a curse, then that’s the experience you will live out.

what if you see it as an opportunity to discover something profound within yourself? what if the very limitations you feel are only reflections of the state you’re currently in, waiting for you to shift?

you don't have to force yourself to change everything all at once. just start small, day by day.

you already know how powerful you are.

#law of assumption #neville goddard #self concept #loa #loablr #affirm and persist #reality shifting #desired reality #manifestation #manifesting #law of attraction #shifting #consciousness #spiritual awakening

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girlwithadragonheart · 3 days ago

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Chapter 7 - Spite's Revenge (or lack thereof)

This story contains major spoilers for Dragon Age the Veilguard. Read at your own discretion!!

Kalais x Lucanis

Summary: It's finally time to get Lucanis and Spite's revenge against the Venatori witch that tortured them.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: Illario(yeah that should say how I feel pretty well about him), Kalais is pissed off, lots of venatori death, lucanis and kalais are so cute, sexual tension

A/N: Oooh Illario pisses me off so baddddd >:(

Chapter 6 DATV Masterlist Chapter 8

The morning light filtered through the cracks in the shuttered window, pale and hesitant, as if it didn’t quite belong in this room weighed down with unspoken words and regrets. My side still ached, a steady throb that tethered me to the moment, even though I was mostly recovered, like it was a phantom reminder of what happened. I lay there for a while, staring at the ceiling, listening to the muffled sounds of movement beyond the door. Life continued out there. Here, I felt stuck in some kind of limbo.

Eventually, I forced myself to sit up, wincing as the motion pulled at my tender skin. My gear sat neatly folded on the chair in the corner, my boots placed side by side. I wasn’t sure who had done it, but a nagging feeling told me it was Lucanis. Despite everything, he always made sure things were orderly---like if he could control the chaos of the little things, the bigger things might stop spinning out of control too.

The door creaked open, and I tensed, half-expecting to see him again. But instead, it was Varric, chest still bandaged up, and he walked with a limp while his leg was braced. His ever-present smirk was slightly softer than usual.

“Well, look who’s up,” he said, stepping inside. He pulled a stool over and dropped onto it with a sigh. “You look like hell, Rook.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair. “Good to see you too.”

Varric leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “So, you wanna talk about it? Or are we doing the whole ‘brooding in silence’ thing?”

I shot him a look that suggested exactly what I planned to do. “What’s there to talk about? We went up against a literal ancient nightmare, and I almost got myself killed. Again.”

“Yeah,” he said, his tone light but pointed. “And yet here you are. Still breathing. Which is more than most people can say after tangling with something like that.”

I leaned back against the headboard, my arms crossed. “It doesn’t feel like enough.”

“Enough for what?” Varric asked, his gaze sharp despite the casual set of his shoulders. “To save the world? To live up to whatever impossible standard you’ve set for yourself? Let me tell you something, Rook—being alive is enough. It’s a hell of a lot more than some people get.”

I looked away, my jaw tightening. “Tell that to the people we couldn’t save.”

“I have,” Varric said simpy. “And guess what? They’d say the same thing I’m saying now. You did what you could’ve. More than anyone else would’ve.”

Silence settled between us, heavy but not uncomfortable. I traced the edge of the blanket with my fingers, my thoughts tangling into knots. “Lucanis thinks he failed,” I said finally, the words tasting bitter in my mouth.

Varric nodded, like he’d been waiting for me to bring it up. “Of course he does. That guy’s got enough guilt to sink a ship.”

“Why?” I asked, my voice quieter now. “Why does he put so much of this on himself?”

Varric was silent for a moment, looking at me for long enough that I met his stare. The weight of it made me look away again. His voice was low when he asked, “Why do you?”

I looked down at my hands, flexing my fingers. “I don’t know how to help him,” I said instead.

“Start by helping yourself,” Varric said. “You can’t pull someone out of the fire if you’re already half-burned.” I frowned, about to argue, but he held up a hand to stop me. “I mean it, Rook. You’re both too damn stubborn for your own good. Maybe it’s time to stop trying to fix everything alone.”

His words hung in the air, and for the first time in a long time, I didn’t have a sharp reply at the ready. Varric stood, patting my thigh affectionately before moving for the door. “Think about it,” he said, pulling the door open before looking over his shoulder at me. “And for Andraste’s sake, try not to get yourself killed again. I’m running out of sarcastic things to say at your bedside.”

I snorted despite myself, shaking my head. “I’ll try.”

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with my thoughts. This time, they didn’t feel quite as heavy.

—-------------------------

I finally managed to drag myself out of the cot in the infirmary. My side was still tight, and the skin was stretched taut with a scar, but it was healed mostly over. Phantom pains still plagued me, but that could just have been the result of so much mental and emotional stress on a physical wound.

Lucanis and I hadn’t spoken, but I would wake to the smell of his cooking and a cioccolata calda steaming on a tray beside my bed. If that was his idea of a peace offering, I’d take it. Everything was hard enough without trying to lay our feelings out in a messy heap on the dining table. Best to keep them tucked away in organized folders, nice and neat to pull out when necessary and close up and put away in other cases.

And until the time arose for me to pull some of those folders out, they would stay right there in my chest where they belonged. Where I knew no one could see them or hurt them.

Hurt me.

And yet, my feet carried me right to him anyway. As though they just couldn’t help themselves. As though I couldn’t help myself. Like a moth to a flame, always trailing after the danger and unable to resist the temptation of its warmth.

I knocked hesitantly before pushing open his door. Lucanis stopped mid-pace, seeing me. “Are you in here brooding?’ I asked with a slight smile.

“I’m fine,” He said, placing a hand on his hip.

“That’s not a ‘No.’”

“I had her. She should never have gotten away from me. This was our contract, Rook. I don’t fail my contracts,” he said, venom toward himself with every syllable that slipped from his tongue.

“Forget about Ghilan’nain,” I said.

“That’s why I’m here,” he argued.

“I know, but… I’m just happy you didn’t get killed out there.” I crossed my arms under my chest like I could pull that folder back in before it spilled all over the floor like loose coffee beans.

“You shouldn’t go easy on me,” Lucanis said. “Mistakes get people killed.”

“You’re an assassin,” I grinned. “So do successes.”

“I thought I still had this. Whatever else I am, I’m a professional,” he said. “After the Ossuary, I thought at least I could still take out a target. I need to work.”

“Ghilan’nain was a giant face in the clouds, Lucanis. I asked you to stab a cloud.”

“And I missed the damn cloud!”

“My point is: That was impossible, and you still almost did it. That’s not small,” I told him.

He sighed, looking at the ground. “I was distracted,” he said, looking back up at me. “That cannot happen again. I need to get my head on straight.”

“Whatever you need to do, okay?” I told him.

“Have you been to talk to the others?” He asked. “I think everyone might have… things to deal with now. I should check in with the Crows. Whatever the word is, I’ll let you know.”

“Tell Teia I said hi,” I told him before leaving. “And Lucanis,” I turned back toward him, and he looked up at me. “Stop beating yourself up before I beat you up,” I leveled him with the best glare I could manage.

His eyebrows shot up, “Is that a threat, mi estrella?”

I shrugged, smiling at him before shutting the door behind me.

—---------------------

After a talk with Solas that night that provided no new information or feedback, I wandered back out to the dining hall to see if Lucanis had heard from the Crows. When I entered, he was standing at the corner of the table, several knives stuck into the wood.

“This is ominous…” I said as I approached.

“Viago found something,” Lucanis said.

“Something bad, I take it?” I asked, bracing myself for whatever news I was about to hear that had Lucanis sticking knives in the table.

“Venatori in Treviso. Like I thought. One of them might know where Zara is. Viago has Crows watching them. We find them, we find Zara,” he said.

“Everything she did to you… We’ll make her pay, Lucanis. Side by side,” I said earnestly.

“We just have to get this done. I’m not losing anyone else,” he said in a low voice. “We only get one shot at this. We’ll go when you’re ready.”

—----------------------

We met with Lucanis’s Crow contact. She told us that they found a group of Venatori hiding out in the market, not far from Cafe Pietra. They already took Minrathous from me. They couldn’t have Treviso too.

I would do anything to keep a home.

I didn’t like anything about this. I definitely didn’t like how willing Illario was to insist Zara had moved on and left. Especially now that Venatori were trying to occupy the city beside the Antaam.

We made our way through the city to where she said they were hiding. Of course the front door was locked. So we went up. There was always another route, this was Treviso, after all. Holes in the walls and climbing the lattice-works on the sides of buildings. Jumping between roofs and ziplining over canals.

Still, I must’ve miscalculated a jump, my foot slipping. My heart plummeted to my stomach as I started falling. A hand gripping my wrist firmly stopped me, and a second later I was back on my feet, looking at Lucanis as his hand lingered on my wrist.

“Careful,” he said before turning to lead the way again.

I’d forgotten how fun it was to kill Venatori. They were worse than roaches. Like a rat in the last bag of rice. Lucanis watched with raised brows, almost in surprise as I slammed my dagger through a Venatori’s ribs all the way to the hilt before pulling it out and slitting his throat.

“You fight like a Crow,” he observed.

“Varric taught me to fight. I guess the rogue in him rubbed off on me,” I said in response. “Sometimes even a normal stabbing beats burning them to a crisp.”

“Remind me to stay on your good side,” he smirked.

“I think you’re safe,” I laughed.

There were lots of useless notes scattered around their hideout. Only one pointed to a possible lead. A powerful mage named Aquila. A mage? Two could play that game. Try a mage with a dagger, bitch.

It didn’t take long to get rid of him. His pockets were stuffed with jewelry from the Chantry. That was our next stop, then.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this? Facing Zara, I mean,” I asked him.

“I lost a year of my life to that Venatori witch. I owe her for that,” he said steadily.

We climbed up to the roof, and Illario was standing there. “There you are. What took you so long? Did you stop for coffee again?”

“Illario? What are you doing here?” Lucanis asked as we approached. I watched him, very much waiting to hear the answer to that myself.

“I’m coming with you, cousin. No arguments.”

“This is my job,” Lucanis argued.

“This is Crow business,” Illario countered.

“How did you even know we’d be here?” Lucanis asked.

Illario looked at me with a sly grin. “Rook! Always a pleasure. Touring the city with my cousin? You must allow me to show you the sights.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Lucanis told you not to come.” I saw a flash of anger and disappointment cross Illario’s face before it was gone, replaced by that stupid smug grin.

“This isn’t your type of job, cousin,” Lucanis said, shifting slightly closer to me. “There’s no one you can charm into dropping their guard. Only fanatics. All you can do is get yourself killed.”

“You think I’m not good enough?” Illario questioned.

“Are you?” Lucanis asked.

“Fine. Have it your way, cousin. You know best,” Illario replied with a hiss.

“Let’s go, Rook. Zara is waiting,” Lucanis told me.

“Go on, then. Don’t keep Zara waiting,” Illario crossed his arms, watching me like a predator. I sidestepped him, heading across the roof.

We didn’t find Zara, but we found about a dozen Venatori and a bone-reader in the Chantry hall. Apparently she was Zara’s favorite soothsayer, Porcia. Lucanis said if she’s here then Zara is too.

All of her lackeys were here, which meant she was here. We just hadn’t found her yet.

And of course, when we did find her, it was in a pool of blood in the basement of the holy sanctum.

And she was naked.

Great.

“Lucanis,” she purred. “It’s terribly uncivilized to drop in on a lady unannounced. Now the evening’s ruined.”

“You’ve got something on yourself,” I said.

“How very eloquent,” she said, standing from the water. She was covered in blood up to her collarbone, hair black and wavy, lips painted dark. Her eyes were bone white, a stark contrast to her hair and the blood bodysuit.

“Bitch,” I sneered, curling my lip and flipping her the bird. Lucanis glanced at me with a similar expression, and my hand clutched my dagger as she prepared to fight us.

All of my anger with the Venatori that had built in my veins now came charging out in a concentrated blast of fire and lightning. I watched as Lucanis leaped into the air, wings erupting from his back in a display of shadow and night and everything righteous and vengeful that had been building in him over the past year.

While she was busy focusing on not burning to a crisp and spending all her power regenerating herself, Lucanis grabbed her by the shoulders and threw her forcefully against the floor. Her once beautiful face was now old and wrinkled, her hair white as snow.

She cowered against the pillar she was thrown against, trying to drag herself up. “So serious, Lucanis! Why don’t we talk? I can tell you much about Venatori… and our pet Crows.”

“No. I want. Her heart. Quivering. On our knife,” I heard Spite hiss in Lucanis’s mind.

I watched Lucanis’s face twist, his neck straining as he fought against Spite for control. His eyes flashed purple before he closed them.

“You want to know who betrayed you, don’t you? Who sent you to the Ossuary?” Zara crooned.

“Talk,” Lucanis spat.

“I knew you were—”

She was cut off by someone dropping from the ceiling. I almost had them under my blade before I saw it was Lucanis’s cousin.

“Illario!”

“I told you. This is Crow business.”

“Amatu—” Zara was cut off by Illario’s hand around her throat, squeezing the life out of her. Literally. Her neck snapped. And she was gone.

“No! Mine!” Spite hissed through Lucanis’s teeth, wings flaring from his back. Spite screamed in anger, leaping into the air and pinning Illario, arm drawn back with his dagger. I watched in slow motion as he tried to plunge the knife into his cousin. His other hand caught his forearm.

“Get. Illario. Out!!” Lucanis yelled in my direction, fighting against Spite with everything in him.

“What? No—”

“Rook, I can’t—” He screamed in pain.

“Lucanis!” I moved in front of Illario.

“No!” Lucanis screamed.

The dagger pressed against my skin, drawing a nick of blood at my collar. “Rook. Move!” Spite hissed.

I stared right into those glowing purple eyes. “No. If you want him you have to kill me first.”

Spite growled. My face cracked as the dagger drew a scratch against my skin from Lucanis’s shaking hand trying to hold Spite back.

“Rook. Hurt!” Lucanis stumbled back, eyes back to their normal chocolate brown.

“Rook,” Lucanis took a step toward me, hand out.

“Hey, I’m fine.” I swiped my thumb over the wound, letting my magic heal it with the pass. “See? Nothing’s there, it’s okay.”

“You need to get him out of here,” Illario said behind me. “Rook. Keep him away. From Treviso. From the Crows. He’s a danger to the family.”

I spun around to face him. Approaching with my finger in his face. “If you had bloody well stayed away like we bloody well told you to, this wouldn’t have happened! That wasn’t your fucking kill, Illario! Do you know he spent a year in that fucking prison getting tortured? That he never would’ve been possessed if not for her?” I spat, my hand fisted in his collar.

“Rook—” Lucanis said weakly.

“No!” I cried. “He does not get to call you a danger when he’s so reckless. And what was it Zara called you, hmm? Amatus? The Vint word for love, if I remember correctly from my time as a slave,” I spat in Illario’s face. “Forgive me, if I’m not ready to let you off the hook just because you happened to know where we would be, and happened to know where the Ossuary was, and happened to be called love by the person we came here to kill. So, no. You get out of here Illario before I get the mind to kill you myself. Your only grace is being Lucanis’s cousin. Get the fuck out of my sight.” I shoved him and he stumbled.

“Lucanis, you’re going to let your plaything speak to me like this?” He questioned.

“Kalais is not a plaything, and you would be the luckiest man in the world to have her as yours. Just go, Illario,” Lucanis said, all of the fight gone from him.

Illario looked between the two of us, scoffed, and walked away. He was smarter than I gave him credit for, then.

Lucanis watched him go and then fell to his knees. I rushed over to him, hands on his shoulders to keep him upright. “Come on, just gotta get back to the eluvian and you can rest,” I said, helping him to his feet. “I’m alright, okay, now I just need you to be.”

Lucanis complied as best he could, Spite helping him move with me as we traversed back to the Diamond and through the Eluvian to the lighthouse.

I managed to get him back to his room, sitting down against the wall as he passed out on his cot.

—--------------------

I didn’t sleep much, but I rested a bit while he did. He sat by me for who knows how long while I was injured, I couldn’t bear to leave now.

Hours later he stirred. “Rook?”

“You’re awake,” I said, looking up at him from my camp on the floor. I had brewed fresh coffee for when he awoke sitting on the table next to his bed, the small lamp the only light in the room.

“Yes,” he said. “I��ve been trying to figure out what to say to you,” he said quietly.

Ah.

So he’d been awake for awhile, then. I just didn’t know because he hadn’t stirred.

“And…” he continued. “There aren’t words enough to apologize.” I shifted to sit on my knees before his bedside, brows furrowed. “I never wanted you to see me like that. And to think I almost…”

I shook my head. “I’m still here,” I told him. “Nothing happened that I wasn’t expecting other than Illario falling from the sky,” I said with a slight grin. “And look…” I took his hand, pulling it to my collarbone where his dagger had nicked me. “There’s nothing there. Not even a scar.”

I let go, and his fingers trailed across my collarbone, eyes lingering on the skin there. A shiver went down my spine, goosebumps raising on my flesh. Lucanis inhaled sharply, looking away, putting his hands on his lap. “We need to talk about Illario.”

“He wants you to stay away from the Crows. He… thinks you’re a danger to your family,” I spat. I’d had plenty of time to think about it and let my anger cool down. And yet, every time I thought about it, that anger came rushing back. What better way to tell I was justified than that?

“He’s not wrong. If I cannot stay in control…” He said solemnly. “Something’s not right, though.”

I sighed. “I didn’t say anything because he’s your cousin, but… I’ve always had a bad feeling about Illario,” I said carefully. “And for your sake, I didn’t want it to be true.”

“For his sake, let’s hope you’re wrong,” Lucanis said. “Zara is dead. After everything she did to me…”

“To us!” Spite hissed.

“It should have been my knife that finished this. Illario denied me that.”

“Trust me, I won’t be soon forgetting that, either,” I scowled.

“Thank you, Rook,” he said softly. “Just… give me time.”

I took his hands, squeezing them lightly. “Of course. I’ll be around if you need to talk. Your coffee is on the end table. I made it, I hope it’s alright. I tried to copy how you do it,” I said sheepishly, looking away.

His eyes were wide, and he picked up the cup, bringing it to his lips. He hummed, eyes slipping shut as he tasted it. I squirmed with anticipation. His eyes slowly slid open to peer at me. “I think… this is better than my coffee, Kalais. I might be asking you to make it more often,” he smirked.

I felt my face flush, and I stood, hands on his knees as I leaned in. “No promises that I can make it again,” I said before standing and leaving the room.

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

A/N: I hope you guys like the slight changes I made! (I needed to yell at that bitch (Illario) and Zara so badddd)

Let me know if you want to be added to the Lucanis tag list or the Kalais tag list!

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sturnswrites · 2 days ago

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back to you - pt. 1

Matt Sturniolo x Fem!Reader

⤳ angst, angst, more angst, crying, breakup

⤳ you and matt break up after you leave for college but when summer break comes around you both can’t seem to shake the feeling of one another away.

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

The room felt colder that day, despite the California sun pouring through the windows. Y/N sat cross-legged on Matt’s couch, her heart racing as she tried to make sense of the words coming out of his mouth.

“I don’t want to do this,” he finally said, his voice low but trembling.

“Then don’t.” Your voice cracked, and you hated how desperate you sounded. “Matt, we can figure it out. Long distance isn’t the end of the world.”

“I just think… with you going to New York and me staying here with Nick and Chris, it’s going to be hard,” Matt said, his hands twisting nervously in his lap. He wasn’t looking at you, his gaze fixed somewhere near the carpet.

“Hard?” she repeated, her voice catching, eyes stinging with tears. “Matt, we’ve been together for two years. We’ve been through everything together. Why can’t we at least try?”

He finally looked at you, his blue eyes clouded with something that looked a lot like pain. “Y/N, I’ve thought about this a lot. I don’t want to hold you back while you’re starting this new chapter. And I don’t think I can handle being so far away, not knowing if—if we’re still the same.”

He paused for a second leaving the room with enough silence to hear a pin drop. “You’ll be out there meeting new people, having new experiences. And I’ll be here, stuck in the same routine. It’s not fair to either of us.” he continued.

“It’s not fair?” you repeated, your voice breaking. “What’s not fair is you deciding this without me. What’s not fair is you giving up on us before we’ve even tried.”

His shoulders slumped, and for a moment, you thought he might take it back. That he’d tell you he was being stupid, that you’d find a way to make it work. But instead, he shook his head, his face etched with pain.

Your chest tightened, the weight of his words sinking in. “So that’s it? You’re just giving up on us?”

“I’m not giving up,” he insisted, his voice breaking. “I’m letting you go because I love you too much to keep you tied down.”

You stood up abruptly, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. Your hands were trembling, eyes blurred with tears, but you didn’t want him to see how much he’d broken you.

“I never felt tied down, Matt,” you said quietly, her voice trembling. “I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be—with you.”

And then you walked out, leaving behind the only person who had ever made you feel completely whole.

The months that followed were nothing short of excruciating.

New York was everything you had hoped it would be—bustling, exciting, alive, a blur of classes, new friends…and trying desperately to move on. No matter how many new friends you made or how many late-night adventures you went on, there was a constant ache in your chest that refused to go away.

You threw yourself into school, keeping yourself so busy that you barely had time to breathe, let alone think about Matt. But he always found his way into your thoughts. You’d hear a song he loved, or pass by someone wearing a hoodie like the one he used to wear, and suddenly it felt like you were back in his room, begging him to choose you.

You’d see his face in your memories—the way his nose scrunched when he laughed, the way he used to brush a stray strand of hair from your face, the way he’d whisper “I love you” like it was the most natural thing in the world.

It wasn’t fair. You hated how he still had this hold on you, even after he’d been the one to end things.

Meanwhile, in Los Angeles, Matt was unraveling.

At first, he convinced himself he’d done the right thing. He told himself that breaking up with you was selfless, that he was giving you the freedom to thrive without any ties holding you back. He was still filming videos with Nick and Chris, smiling for the camera, cracking jokes like nothing was wrong.

But as the weeks turned into months, that resolve began to crack.

He’d lie awake at night, staring at the ceiling, replaying the moment he let you go. He’d watch old videos on his phone of the two of you laughing together, and it felt like a punch to the gut every time.

Nick and Chris noticed, of course. They weren’t blind to the way Matt had become quieter, more withdrawn. But every time they tried to bring it up, he brushed them off, burying himself in their work.

Still, he couldn’t stop himself from reaching for his phone late at night, your contact saved under “My Favorite Person.” His fingers would hover over the keyboard, crafting and deleting messages he’d never have the courage to send.

By the time summer rolled around, you’d convinced yourself you were over him. Or at least, you told yourself that enough times to believe it.

One of your friends, Emma, had decided to throw a party for everyone to reconnect after their first year of college.

“It’ll be fun,” Emma had said. “I promise!”

You weren’t so sure about that, but you went anyway, hoping the night would distract you from the lingering ache in her chest.

“Everyone’s going to be there,” Emma had said, grinning as she handed you the invitation. “It’ll be like old times.”

“Sure,” you had replied with a forced smile, pushing down the nagging thought that “everyone” might include the one person you weren’t ready to see.

When you arrived at the party, the air was filled with the familiar buzz of laughter and music. You slipped easily into conversations, catching up with friends you hadn’t seen in months.

You were in the middle of a story, a drink in your hand, when a voice you hadn’t heard in far too long made your heart stop.

“Y/N?”

You turned slowly, your breath catching as your eyes met Matt’s.

He looked… different. His hair was a little longer, his face a little sharper, but his eyes were still the same piercing blue that had haunted your dreams.

“Oh, hi,” you said, your voice carefully neutral. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

He shifted on his feet, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. “Yeah, Nick dragged me along. I didn’t know you’d be back.”

“Just for the summer,” you replied, your chest tight.

An awkward silence stretched between you, and for a moment, it felt like you were strangers. But the way he looked at you, like you were the only person in the room, made your heart ache in a way you weren’t prepared for.

“Well,” you said finally, “it was nice seeing you.”

“You too,” he murmured, his gaze lingering on you as you turned back to your group.

But the night was far from over.

You couldn’t stop noticing him.

Every time you glanced across the room, Matt was there—leaning against a wall, talking to Nick, or laughing with someone you didn’t recognize. And every time, you felt his eyes on you, as if he was just as unable to look away.

You tried to ignore it, focusing on your friends and the easy rhythm of their conversation. But it was impossible not to feel the pull, the magnetic force that had always drawn you to him.

Matt was losing his mind.

Seeing you again was like a shot of adrenaline to his system, every memory he’d tried to bury rushing back with brutal clarity. He wanted to talk to you, to explain, to apologize. But every time he tried to muster the courage, the words got stuck in his throat.

Finally, as the night began to wind down, he couldn’t take it anymore.

You were standing alone on the back porch, the soft glow of string lights casting a halo around you. He stepped outside, his heart pounding as he closed the distance between you.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice soft but urgent.

You turned to face him, your expression guarded. “Matt.”

“Can we talk?” he asked, his eyes searching yours.

You hesitated, your emotions swirling in a storm of hope, fear, and anger. But something in his gaze made you nod.

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “Let’s talk.”

And with that, he led you away from the noise and the crowd, the weight of everything unsaid hanging heavy between you.

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

ok now this one got me excitedddd

⭒ margot

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader

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madamebaggio · 3 days ago

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Notes: Previously...

***

Chapter 14

Edoras

After Théoden said something about a place called Helm’s Deep, he left the room with Gandalf right after him. Sansa suspected the other man - and was he really a man? - was not done trying to persuade the king.

Honestly, Sansa could well understand Gandalf and Aragorn’s frustration at Théoden. She couldn’t claim to be a strategist, but all of this seemed like a bad idea.

She’d once been in a battle where the enemy came to them. She’d hidden down in the crypts with the others, waiting for a miracle. She’d been stuck in a place when the dead rose to kill them all.

Sansa was in no hurry to repeat the experience. She didn’t even need to look at Susan to know the other woman thought the same.

“Your Grace.” Theon hurried near, then bowed when he saw who else was there. “My lords. Your Majesty. I am sorry for interrupting, but…” Now he seemed like he didn’t want to speak.

Sansa immediately knew. “Arya or Jaime?” She asked with a sigh.

Theon cleared his throat. “Both. Arya is fighting the men and Jaime is taking bets.”

Sansa took a deep breath in, before turning to men who’d stayed behind and Susan and giving them a polite - and brittle - smile. “If you excuse me, my lords, my lady.”

She didn’t need to look behind her to know they all came after her. She’d stepped out the hall and went down the stairs, only to find Arya holding a dagger to a man’s throat.

“Arya.” She called.

Her sister looked up. “Aye?”

She glared at her sister, then her eyes moved to Jaime, who was surrounded by other men.

“Ser Jaime?”

“Your Grace.” He waved at her. “Next one is about to start. Would you like to make a bet?”

“What I want to know is why you are doing this.” She asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Well, Arya started it.” Jaime said shamelessly, making the younger Stark glare at him. “Someone said she could not fight being that small, she insisted she could…” He shrugged. “I was just exploring the business opportunities.”

“They have just disappeared.” She informed them both. “Get the others, meet me in my chambers. We have something to discuss.”

***

Susan imagined that Sansa had taken her people to talk about the next steps they’d take. She’d get Helga and the others to do the same. She wasn’t convinced they should go to Helm’s Deep. Perhaps, she should go and meet her siblings in Minas Tirith.

If the people of Rohan were planning on staying still for a while, there was nothing the Narnians could do to help. It seemed to her that going to Gondor might be a better use of her time.

She’d just turned into a hallway, when she saw Gandalf coming from the opposite direction.

“My lady.” The wizard came towards her. “It is an honour to meet a Queen of Narnia.” Gandalf bowed to Susan. “Stories from your land have always reached us.”

“The honour is mine.” Susan nodded at him. “The White Wizard. It is good to know someone deserving of the title now has it.”

“You are very kind, my Queen.” Gandalf gave her a small smile. “I was told you and Queen Sansa have been helping.”

“We did what we could, which was not much.” Susan sighed. “We could not prevent Lord Éomer’s banishment.”

Gandalf nodded gravely. “You cannot carry a whole kingdom on your shoulders, your majesty. Especially when there is such malice behind the happenings in here.”

Susan nodded. “I am glad you are here and that the King is back. The question is: now what?”

“Now I would like to ask for your continuous support.” Gandalf told her seriously. “I do not believe this will be as simple as going to Helm’s Deep, which - mind you - is not easy at all.”

Susan sighed. “I was planning on going to meet my siblings in Gondor.” She admitted to him.

“I would kindly ask you to wait for a bit.” The wizard spoke. “Follow us to Helm’s Deep. I have not given up on Théoden.”

Susan frowned. “Do you think my presence there would be of any help?”

“From what I gathered, you have been great company to Lady Éowyn and you have actively tried to help this whole time. I think Théoden might be open to hearing from you.”

Susan sighed one more time. “Fine. We will go.”

Gandalf bowed his head in her direction. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“Do not thank me yet. I cannot promise anything.” She pointed out.

“Friends are hard to come by in dark times, my lady. The fact that you are here is already a great promise.”

***

Éowyn hurried to Léoith’s house. They were all leaving for Helm's Deep soon and then they’d be faced with the question of the two ‘intruders’ in the middle of the city.

She didn’t even know how to explain their presence, even though there were so many outsiders in Edoras at this point it might be unfair to judge young Percival and Lancelot. On the other hand, in those uncertain times, more strangers might just be a problem.

“I heard the news.” Léoith said as soon as she walked in. “When do we have to leave?”

“The day after tomorrow.” Éowyn twisted her fingers. “How is he?”

“He is much better, but I am not sure if good enough to walk all the way to Helm’s Deep.”

Most people would have to. They’d save carts and horses for the elderly and the sick, and -even though Lancelot was still in recovery - it’d once again bring back the question of who he was and why he was there.

“Lady Éowyn.” Percival came running into the room. “Are we really leaving?”

She touched the boy’s shoulder. “Yes. We will need to find a way to get you and Lancelot in the middle of the group.”

“We could just leave.”

It was the first time she’d seen him standing up. Lancelot was a tall man, and he seemed much recovered; his skin had more colour in it and he seemed firm on his own legs.

Apparently he was also well enough to say absurd things. “Leave?” She repeated. “Where to?”

“I do not know.” He admitted. “But we have taken enough of your time and kindness. It might be time to be on our own.”

“You cannot expect to take this boy out there!” Léoith protested. “It was a miracle you managed to arrive here. It is not safe, there are too many orcs running free.”

Lancelot turned his eyes to Percival. “You are correct. Perhaps I should leave on my own.”

“No!” Percival protested immediately.

“Calm down.” Éowyn asked the boy, before turning to Lancelot. “You are not leaving on your own.”

Lancelot frowned. “No?”

“No.” She told him firmly. “You are not recovered and it is not safe.”

“But you know it will not be easy to explain where we came from.” He pointed out. “Your people will know we are not from here.”

Then it came to Éowyn. “But you are not the only outsiders,” which she had thought about before, but now it came with a different idea. “Who is to say you are not Narnians?”

***

“We will not make to Gondor.” Jaime pointed out, looking at the map. “It is a risk to move out there right now.”

Sansa sighed. “I will send a letter to Margaery now. She should know where we are headed.”

“I do not like this.” Brienne commented.

Sandor grunted what was probably an agreement.

Theon was quiet on a corner, and Sansa turned to him. “Theon?”

“I have a bad feeling.” He told her simply. “But I do agree that there is nothing we can do at this point. From what we have heard from Arya and even the people around the city, this land is covered in orcs and uruk-hais. We stand no chance on our own.”

“That is what I feared.” She looked at Jaime. “What do you think?”

“We are evacuating a city. There will be families, children, the elderly, the sick… Not everyone here is a fighter and I do not know how big of an army is left here. Any idiot would know this will be a slow moving group. I would attack us on the way.”

“We also do not know how big the army of the enemy is.” Brienne reminded him.

“No, we do not. And, as much as I hope they are no more than a hundred untrained idiots, I would not bet our safety on a hope.”

Sansa pinched the bridge of her nose. She was getting a headache and she had no time for this. “I will write to Margaery now. You go out there and find as much information as you can. Talk to the Narnians, talk to the Rohirrim, talk to the damn wizard if you must.” And she could not believe she was saying that. “Get me whatever you can, because I need to pass on the information to her, in case…” She pressed her lips together.

Arya frowned. “Sansa.”

“In case something happens.” She finished.

The others exchanged looks, but they nodded at her and left to do what was asked of them. Only when the door closed did Sansa notice that Arya had stayed behind.

“Are you feeling unwell?” Her sister wanted to know.

“It will pass.”

Arya snorted. “Do not start acting all prissy now.”

Sansa arched an eyebrow at her sister. “I am still your Queen.”

“Only when it is convenient.” She smirked.

Sansa snorted, her lips curling up. “I will be fine. I assure you.”

“Fine.” Arya seemed to finally accept her answer. “But, Sansa, on my word, say you want to leave and I will get you out. The others would not mind and you know that.”

“I do.”

Arya gave her a firm nod and left the room.

She walked down the hallways, looking for the others, but someone else found her first.

“Lady Arya.”

“Sir Reepichip. What is the news from your side?”

“We are all going to Helm’s Deep.” He informed her. “My Queen has just decided it.”

“So has Sansa. What do you know of the enemy?”

“Nothing more than a few tales. We should find a better source.”

They exchanged a look. “The dwarf.”

***

“What do you think of all these Queens here?” Boromir asked Aragorn, once they were alone.

“I am not sure.” He admitted. “Help is help, but I do wonder what they might be interested in. They all came from far away just to be here.”

“It is bad that we need to worry about war, but now we also have politics involved.”

Aragorn was bemused. “There is always politics involved, my friend.”

“Yes. My brother is the natural diplomat between us.” Boromir had a fond smile on his face as he spoke about Faramir. “I learned it because I must, but he just had something in him.”

“It will be a great pleasure to meet Lord Faramir.” He put a hand on his shoulder. “But back to the current situation…”

“Why don’t you talk to Queen Sansa’s people?” Boromir offered. “I knew Théodred, even if not that well, so I might try and talk to the King.”

Aragorn nodded. “Let us do this.”

Honestly, Sansa could understand well Gandalf and Aragorn’s frustration at Théoden. She couldn’t claim to be a strategist, but all of this seemed like a bad idea.

She didn’t even need to look at Susan to know the other woman thought the same.

“Your Grace.” Theon hurried near, then bowed when he saw who else was there. “My lords. Your Majesty. I’m sorry for interrupting, but…” Now he seemed like he didn’t want to speak.

Sansa immediately knew. “Arya or Jaime?” She asked with a sigh.

Theon cleared his throat. “Both. Arya is fighting the men and Jaime is taking bets.”

Sansa took a deep breath in, before turning to Théoden King and giving him a polite -and brittle -smile. “If you excuse me, my lord.”

She didn’t need to look behind her to know they all came after her. She’d stepped out the hall and went down the stairs, only to find Arya holding a dagger to a man’s throat.

“Arya.” She called.

Her sister looked up. “Aye?”

She glared at her sister, then her eyes moved to Jaime, who was surrounded by other men. “Ser Jaime?”

“Your Grace.” He waved at her. “Next one is about to start. Would you like to make a bet?”

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