#i never lose respect faster then when i see someone refusing to admit that the ideas were borrowed from somewhere

[captainkirkk]

I’ve had one of my works kinda plagiarized but honestly I mostly found it really funny because I didn’t notice for like way too long

So I’m reading this fic right and I’m enjoying it but a few things stick out as familiar, a couple plot beats that I coulda *sworn* I had seen somewhere before. But also there’s enough stuff that’s totally unfamiliar that I was like ‘maybe I’ve read smth else this person I’ve done and I’m picking up on the style’

And it isn’t until the very very end of the fic where it ends in a *really* strange place— like, a side battle that was tangential at best to the main storyline— and in a really odd and specific way that I was like ‘hmm actually hey don’t I have a fic vaguely like this? Maybe’ so I go back and sure enough I Have written a fic like that. I’ve written a fic *very* like that. I’ve written a fic *very* like that that just so happens to be A, older and B, unfinished, with the last chapter being that minor side battle…….

Alright, so it’s not 1-1, and they’ve got enough differences that you *could* say it’s just coincidence, unless you happen to compare the fics side by side. You know that very lazy thing that people sometimes do for essays or some such where they copy-paste a sentence, but then switch the wording up a bit? Or there are several scenes in theirs that need context from mine to work.

I haven’t reported it or anything mostly because I find it incredibly funny. How bold this author is! ‘I’ve had this idea for a few years’ you sure have! And then, in the comments, upon being asked if it’s alright to translate it to russian— ‘of course! Just link back to the original fic ^^’ yes we wouldn’t want any stealing here would we oh plagiarism would be just awful! Every time I need a good laugh I go dig it up again, never fails to entertain. (Ofc if they do that to anyone else i Will slam dunk them in the trash since it is kind of a shitty thing to do, but god. The entertainment value is off the charts. I wonder if I ever add more to my own fic if a mysterious second chapter that they’ve been stewing on since 2019 will pop up)

I've had this happen to me. Quite a lot. I often don't say anything or report them, because it's not copy-and-pasted, like you said, it's a clear rewrite. I don't get it - writing your own ideas are wayyy more fun and gratifying - but I was never too upset about it

I've seen it happen to other people's fics too. Personally, I think ao3 is a hotpot of ideas and people often steal each other's ideas, sometimes without realising that they've done it. It's not necessarily a bad thing (so long as you make the idea your own), but I also think it's very important to acknowledge your sources. In fact, I've pointed this out to others before and suggested that they briefly add credit in the authors notes, and they flat out refused. Which annoys me. Like you said, it always stings worse when you see someone ripping someone else off.

Authors borrow ideas all the time, I just wish people were aware and honest and upfront about it, instead of blatantly plagiarising or refusing to credit their sources of inspiration

[starlightrows]

In The Eye Of The Beholder

Chapter 1

Next →

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: brief description and mildly graphic medical jargon about losing an eye and having a prosthetic implant placed

Summary: Shortly after the events of the Battle of Khorm, the Kaminoans don’t see the value in moving forward with treatment for Commander Wolffe... you, the GAR doctor on the Coruscant disagree

“I don’t remember asking for your goddamn opinion ambassador!” you shout up at the pale long necked Kaminoan, who’s been passively berating you in an attempt to get your patient taken off life support. Your communicator goes off loudly, and you feel no shame in looking at it instead of listening to the Kaminoan ambassadors retort.

“I’m sorry ambassador, but this discussion is over. The requisition for the cybernetic prosthesis has gone through and whether you like it or not, I am going to give that man a fighting chance. He didn’t lay down his life to be tossed out with the garbage. Now get out of my med bay,” your turn on your heel, and begin speaking into your comlink to arrange for the surgery to get underway immediately.

The procedure took nine grueling hours to fully clear out the wound, put in the prosthetic eye and reconstruct the damage to the soldier's facial structure. He stood a good chance of making a full recovery if the cybernetic innervations healed correctly. Now it was just a matter of letting him rest and wake up in his own time.

Most clone troopers in the GAR hospital didn’t get many visitors, most didn’t stay long enough to need visitors though the ones that lived through their ordeals usually recovered on transports back to the front line. But this trooper had a frequent visitor, a Jedi.

“He must be a very good commander for you to check in on him so often,” you comment one afternoon, standing by the door. The tall Kel Dor turned to face you.

“He is. A dutiful, loyal, hardworking commander. But that is not why I come to see him,” he says

“Why then? Certainly a Jedi Master and a General in the Grand Army of the Republic has many duties and responsibilities to see to,” you approach the bed with your tray of fresh wound dressings for his eye.

“The same reason you advocated for him when the Kaminoans wanted to let him die. He is a person. An individual. He is a good man. And he is a member of my team,” he explains while you work to remove the bandages that keep the stitches and cybernetics clean.

“You care for him,” you say with a smile, applying a layer of bacta gel to the stitches with a cotton bud.

“Indeed. I care for him, and all of his brothers that serve under my command. I am not the only one who worries after his health,” The jedi steps around you, trying not to be in the way.

“Well that makes two of us. I don’t even know him, but I want him to live. And not just to keep serving the republic,” you finish applying the bacta gel and begin rewrapping his head with clean bandages.

“You have a good heart doctor, and better view of the troopers than most. I think he’ll like you when he has the chance to formally meet you,” the jedi says

“I should hope so, he’ll have to come back fairly regularly for check ups and case study updates. He’s the first living being with this particular model of prosthesis. If he doesn’t like me, it’ll be a very unpleasant couple months until the study is complete,” you’ve finished wrapping his head, but find you can’t stop looking at his handsome face. True you’ve seen thousands exactly like his before, but right now it’s as if you’ve never seen anyone like him.

“I’ll be the first to admit, he’s stubborn and a bit gruff. But he’s not so bad once you get to know him, he’s fiercely protective and hates to feel weak. This will be a difficult recovery for him, but I have confidence in him. And in you doctor,” you tear your gaze away from the commander and smile at the jedi.

“Thank you master jedi,” you give him a small bow of your head out of respect.

“Plo,” he says “No need for such formalities,” you wonder briefly if he is smiling beneath his deoxygenator, it certainly sounds like it.

“And him? They don’t include their chosen names in their identification codes, just CC and CT numbers. I doubt he goes by his CC number day to day,” you pack away your equipment, unfortunately other patients are waiting, as much as you would love to stay and chat with the kind jedi master. Plo tracks your movements, he senses your rising anxieties about having to leave and attend to other matters in the hospital. Just as you’re about to leave without getting an answer, Plo speaks up.

“His name is Wolffe”

—

Much to your delight, Commander Wolffe does wake up within a few days. And he’s every bit the stubborn, defensive, and unwilling patient Master Plo promised he would be. He keeps getting up and trying to leave despite obviously being in immense physical pain, he’s already ripped his stitches once, and he’s down right refusing to let you get near him to check the wound and change the dressing.

“Commander Wolffe I am at my wits end here. I’m going to step out to allow you a visitor, and when I come back you will be laying on that bed, I am changing those dressings, you are taking your medication. Is that that clear?” You bark at him. He glares at you with his one amber eye but does not respond.

You push the door open and see Master Plo waiting on the other side.

“He’s all yours General, talk some sense into him if you can,” you toss the comment over your shoulder as you head down to the nurses station for a cup of water.

Master Plo enters the patient room, and finds Wolffe pacing against the far wall. His head snaps up, and he visibly struggles to bring the newcomer into his field of vision.

“General!” Wolffe says in surprise, straightening his posture

“Wolffe, your doctor tells me you’re refusing care,” Plo closes the door behind him.

“I should be out there,” Wolffe growls “Kriff… I shouldn’t even be alive right now. They’re keeping me alive to keep me in a box!”

Plo senses that there is something more, something he’s holding back, beyond wanting to be released from med bay.

“You know better than most that withholding the truth can be the determining factor between life and death,” Master Plo says carefully, approaching Wolffe with slow movements “but this truth is one that needs to be shared,”

Wolffe’s shoulders drop and what little color he’s managed to regain drains from his face. His knees give out and he sinks down onto the floor, tears stain both his good cheek and the bandage. Master Plo moves to join him on the floor.

“Good soldiers don’t lay around in hospital beds and weep over superficial pain,” Wolffe says weakly “Soldiers that don’t recover quickly… get decommissioned and sent back to Kamino in a box,”

“You are already recovering quickly, and your doctor can give you something for the pain so you can heal faster,” Plo says cooly “You are not being sent back to Kamino. Your doctor made sure of that,”

“What?” Wolffe was surprised to hear this, up to this point all of his conscious interactions with you had been rather gruff and none too friendly, he can’t imagine why you weren’t doing everything in your power to get him out of your hospital and out of your way.

“A Kaminoan ambassador came to assess treatment at this hospital and saw your condition, they incorrectly assumed that it would be more beneficial to cease all treatment. Your doctor, shall we say, violently disagreed,”

“Violently sir?”

“They were furious she went ahead with the surgery. Believe me, if someone had recorded it on a holo I would show it to you. It was quite the spectacle,” Master Plo laughs “She was adamant that you deserved a fighting chance,”

—

Later that evening after General Plo had left, you returned to Wolffe’s room with a tray of equipment to change his dressings, and medicine to help with the pain.

“Commander Wolffe if I come into this room and you throw something or scream at me, I will have you physically restrained,” you say sharply before fully entering the room. He’s sitting on the bed facing away from the door.

“I won’t yell,” he replies quietly without turning around, his tone is decidedly gentler than before. Whatever the General said to him must have done the trick. You approach him cautiously, rounding the end of his bed so you could get a good look at him. His face is set in a harsh grimace.

“Are you in pain?” You ask. He nods but doesn’t reply. “I am going to change those dressings and we’re gonna test out that new eye. I think with a good dose of anti inflammatory medication, and some intraocular movement you’ll feel better,”

He nods again, you drag a chair over and sit in front of him, he doesn’t bat your hand away when you move to unwrap his bandages. The silvery white cybernetic eye under the protective padding is downcast to match its whiskey gold twin. The stitches are finally healing up with the help of the bacta gel.

“Good news Commander I think you’re healed enough you won’t need a fresh bandage. Now let’s see how well this prosthesis works. Can you look at my nose?” You remove a penlight from your pocket and shine it in each of his eyes.

You run through a series of tests asking him to stare straight ahead at you, follow the light with his eyes, and tell you when he can or can’t see you moving the end of the pen out of his vision. Pressure and tightness on his left side subsides he continues moving his eye around.

“Your reactions look normal, how does it feel?” you click off your penlight and tuck it away.

“Hurts a bit less,” he quietly admits “I’m sorry about before,”

His change in demeanor is a surprise but a welcome one, far better than him trying to escape or aggressively get away from you. You give him a small cup with the anti inflammatory medicine in it, and second small cup with water. He takes the pills without complaint. You remain seated in front of him, to maintain this comfortable closeness.

“It’s okay. I know this isn’t easy,” you give him a sympathetic look.

“General Plo mentioned that you advocated for me, I would be dead if it wasn’t for you…” he falters “thank you,”

That familiar feeling you had before when he was still on life support crept back up on you. Heartbreak for how much he and his brothers have to sacrifice, longing to show him the appreciation he deserves, and something else, something you can’t place.

“This war won’t last forever. You deserve the chance to live in the freedom and peace you fight so hard to protect,”

He’s a bit stunned. Sure he’s heard a handful of politicians advocating for clone rights, but he’s never heard anyone say something like this. He can tell your words are genuine and heartfelt.

“Is there any way I can repay you, or thank you for sticking your neck out for me?” He asks “It takes guts to stand up to those soulless bastards,”

“Well ah… don’t thank me too fast. I know you didn’t exactly sign up for this but your prosthetic is a brand new top of the line prototype. By default you’re a participant in the longitudinal study of its effectiveness,” you admit sheepishly. He raises an eyebrow and peers at you. “On the positive side, you’ll get a bit more shore leave to come in for appointments,”

“Well that’s certainly nothing to complain about. My offer still stands, can I take you out as a thank you?”

You smile warmly and quirk up a brow to match him. “Take me out? Hm… I get off in a couple hours and you’re being discharged from med bay today, I’m game if you give me a chance to run home and ditch my scrubs,”

“It’s a deal,”

[idontblushsrry]

SFW Alphabet-Hiei

Word Count: 2125 

A/N: Warning in advance, i’m in a fluffy mood and I want there to be more yyh fanfics so i’ll be writing some for the next few days. I’ll try and sprinkle in some other content but for now, it is what it is. Also I changed some of the prompt options so there’s that. Also I’m going to be posting content for more obscure/dead/forgotten fandoms in general so if you have any ideas lmk!

A: Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Hiei isn’t super affectionate in the traditional sense. Like if you want a boyfriend who’ll hold your hand and kiss your cheek and what not, Hiei is not that person at all. His affection is moreso bickering, especially in public, he’ll act like you’re such a nuisance but like he’s still looking out for you. In private, he’s a bit more affectionate. He really does trust you with his life, he’s just a little emotionally repressed so he shows his affection by sleeping and truly relaxing around you. In his most vulnerable moments, he’ll lay his head in your lap and let you rub his hair while he falls asleep.

B: Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

The closest thing we see to Hiei having a best friend is Kurama and maybe Yusuke. As a best friend Hiei is very blunt, he shows his care for you by being upfront, it can honestly come off as a little callous but if you know him well (which you should as his best friend) you know that he means well, he just wants to protect his pride while still showing he cares about you. Your friendship probably starts after one of you saves the other.

C: Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Hiei likes cuddles but he absolutely refuses to ask for them. He doesn’t like to be too close at first and will initially only hold your hand when he knows for sure that you’re asleep. Eventually though, he gets more comfortable with you and your relationship and allows you to hold him even when you’re awake.

D: Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Hiei and domestic don’t really go together in the same sentence. His version of domesticity is protecting each other and then coming home and being near each other. He doesn’t want to settle down in the traditional “human” sense but he does like the idea of having somewhere permanent to come back to with you. He isn’t the best at cooking but he will try his best to help clean, he often uses his speed to get them done faster, all the while teasing you at how slow you’re going. Like okay buddy, you’re doing what I want anyways so who’s really losing?

E: Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

If you and Hiei ever broke up, he’d be silently devastated. It took a lot out of him to open up to you and the fact that you were able to leave that (at least for him) is devastating. If Hiei ever does get with another person, it’ll be long after you’ve both broken up and moved on.

F: Fiance(e) (How would they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Hiei has sort of already made a commitment to you by the time you’ve even entered your relationship, regardless of how long you’ve known each other, he entered the relationship because of how deep his connection with you is. He wouldn’t want to/care to get married by “human” standards, in his mind you’re already married/mated. Plus he couldn’t legally marry you because of the fact that he doesn’t have any governmental documentation.

G: Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Hiei isn’t emotionally gentle at all at least outwardly. He’s very grumpy to protect his pride and image but he’s secretly a big ol softie. He always keeps track of you with his Jagan and if you’re ever in danger, Hiei is never far. When it comes to your emotional needs, he tries his best, he usually just positions himself in the best spot to be there should you need anything from him.

H: Hugs( Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?

Hiei during the course of his relationship with you tries to become more and more affectionate with you, becoming more and more open with giving and receiving it. He ofc isn’t into PDA at all but he will reciprocate your hugs if you give. At the beginning of your relationship he just stands there awkwardly but later on in your relationship he’ll wrap his arms around you and awkwardly start to pat your back. His hugs are pretty awkward but the fact that he even lets you hold him means more than his awkwardness with affection.

I: I love you (How fast do they say the L-word)

Hiei thinks that the fact he “puts up with you” is evidence enough and that he shouldn’t have to say it. He maintains that until one day you just break and tell him you love him and would like to hear him say it back, he just blushes and turns mumbling out a rushed, ‘I love you too.’

J: Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous)

He gets jealous and also not jealous if that makes sense. Like he knows that no other could ever measure up to him and as such isn’t threatened by anyone even if they are flirting with you. But other times he sees you smiling with some stranger or laughing at a joke your co worker said and he wonders if maybe you’d be happier with someone better than him. 

K: Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Hiei’s kisses are rough and warm and passionate. He gives you kisses usually to just straight up fluster you, he loves the dreamy expression you get and the little wobble in your knees when he kisses with you and it fills him with a sense of pride to elicit such a reaction from you. 

L: Little ones (How are they around children)

Oh goodness. Please do not let Hiei loose around children unsupervised. He will just stare at them and watch as they get into whatever mischief they want and just still be staring at them. He’ll only intervene if they bother him or are in life-threatening danger.

M: Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

In the rare mornings that Hiei hasn’t completely disappeared after waking up earlier than you, he likes to just look at you. It’s a little odd but he likes to just bask in your presence, he enjoys being with you and it’s the second softest you’ll see him throughout the day.

N: Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights with Hiei are incredibly tender, you spend the night in each others arms and you’ll want for naught in terms of warmth. As a fire demon, Hiei tends to give off a lot more heat than most so if you get cold at night he’ll just move closer to you and let you put your cold hands and feet on him.

O: Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Hiei is a incredibly private and mysterious person. He reveals things about himself very slowly, most things are unsaid, revealed through his actions and reactions. 

P: Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Hiei is somewhat brash, impulsive, and grumpy which can lead to fights between the two of you. Given the fact that he is not at all patient, fights can get heated rather quickly. However, Hiei is also able to tell when he’s getting too worked up so he often ends up leaving mid-fight to walk away and cool down .

Q: Quizzes (How much would they remember about you?  Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He remembers the smallest things about you like the way you prefer to part your hair but fails at remembering things like your anniversary. Although, he is a telepath so in that aspect, he’s lucky. No, he doesn’t read your mind, he respects your privacy too much to do that, Botan on the other hand...

R: Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

His favorite moments in your relationship both occurred during the Dark Tournament:

1) Was when he passed out from using his Dark Dragon technique and woke up to see you asleep at his bedside. The fact that you were there for him and stood by his side at his most vulnerable it... it meant a lot.

2) Was when you all exited the stadium and in all your excitement you kissed him yelling “You guys did it!”, he was very much embarrassed afterwards but even now just thinking about how happy you were brings a smile to his face.

S: Security (How protective are they? How would they like to be protected?)

Hiei loves to play the role of a silent protector, please let him lol. Even if you can see or sense him, pretend you can’t for his sake, it makes him feel cool. As for how he likes to be protected, he fully expects you to be reliant on him for protection if you’re a non-fighter, and he’s ok w that but if you like protect him from someone who’s trying to attack from behind, he might just admit he’s in L-word with you.

T: Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Hiei admittedly doesn’t put effort into dates or anniversaries. It’s one of the biggest challenges in your relationship, how he’d rather keep his pride than make an effort to be with you. You end up planning most dates as Hiei is perfectly content for you both to just stare off into space in the middle of the countryside. He will go along with whatever plans you have though, and he’ll steal you anything you want. In fact, the only thing Hiei’s actually bought you was a sword, you assume it was very expensive based on the sheer quality and amount of detail but he never says where he got it from.

U: Ugly (What are some bad habits of theirs?)

A bad habit that Hiei has are his aforementioned pride. The man is stubborn and will maintain said stubbornness until proved wrong beyond deniability, at which point he’ll avert his eyes and apologize. Another bad habit he has is that he won’t tell you if he’s struggling until he’s in so much shit that not telling you would be a matter of life or death. Like he’ll be dictating his will to you randomly one day while you’re just mindin your business, it’s terrible. His pride and secretive nature tend to be the cause of your most serious disagreements.

V: Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He’s not concerned with his looks beyond the bare minimum. Hiei never really tries with his look whether it’s his clothes or general attitude/way he presents himself. He does keep clean of course, but in terms of fashion... he’ll wear whatever he’s got until it’s nothing more than rags.

W: Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Hiei never feels incomplete without you, he’s much too independent and self-reliant to ever feel incomplete because of one person even if that is you. However, he does feel different, considering the fact that you are 90% of his impulse control and kindness, he does find himself getting irritated and acting much more brashly whenever you aren’t around.

X: (E)xes (Any previous relationship experience. How does that factor into your current relationship?)

You are quite literally the only relationship he’s ever been in, coincidentally you are also one of four people he can consistently tolerate.

Y: Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner)

Hiei gets a bad taste in his mouth at people who lack honor and integrity. He thinks that above all, whether you live or die, you should do so with honor. As such, he dislikes traitors or sycophants or the like, he doesn’t care if you’re an ass, as long as you’re honest about it.

Z: Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Hiei in general doesn’t sleep regularly and when he does it isn’t really good, restful sleep. Maybe very once in a while, he’ll get a decent night’s rest with you but overall, the man sleeps when his body forces him to.Also like to think that he can sleep with his eyes open, or at least with his Jagan open if he isn’t completely depleted of energy.

[not-reagan]

milf: man i love forests

pairing: deforester boo seungkwan x frat boy mirror demon han jisung (side pairing reagan x rainbow)

genre: crack, strangers to friends to lovers, non-idol au

warnings: cursing, brief supernatural elements, i don’t know if this applies but all lcase, and i listened to christmas music and abba while writing this

word count: 2.7k

authors note: happy birthday @miyuuraiura !! i am so sorry about this monstrosity being your birthday gift but you asked for it so it's your fault entirely. i was gonna include some context on this story for those who are not rainbow and i but actually i don't think i will.

seungkwan did what he could to get by. he loved nature, he really did, but sometimes you have to make moral sacrifices to survive. he was a college kid strapped for cash, and when he saw a sign reading “GET RICH QUICK, INVEST IN DEFORESTATION” in the summer going into his freshmen year, he jumped at the opportunity. sure, he would have rather been a freelance singer, hired for bar-mitzvahs and children's parties, but that job market was flooded at the moment.

jisung, on the other hand, had no care for nature. actually, he didn't care for any human things, apart from “banging parties, booze, the boys™, and bitches”. he hated quite a bit about earth, the worst of all to him being college. as a demon, he had no reason to attend university, but after he was summoned in the bathroom of a frat house by the school’s power couple; rainbow and reagan, he felt obliged to follow the two around and keep them company.

for seungkwan, his main job rarely required in person work. he usually just chose plots of land to demolish, and sent plans to local managers. the only time he actually had to knock down any trees himself was during his summer break. he has a part time job of course, but it didn't provide him enough cash to survive. for someone with a job as a deforester, he truly did do what he could to save the environment. he joined his schools environmental club, becoming vice president his sophomore year because of his work with them. he kept his job a secret, not even telling his parents where the influx of cash was coming from. he kept a low profile and went through the motions of life. he didn't have much of a social life, with his small amount of friends being from the environmental club.

han jisung found joy in witnessing his professors and fellow students lose their minds over his lack of effort in class. he did the bare minimum and still passed with flying colors. most of all, it angered his seatmate in earth science, who happened to be none other than boo seungkwan. seungkwan was a hard worker in everything he did, particularly in school. he didn't get the best grades, but by no means was he the worst. averaging a steady B+, seungkwan spent most of his nights studying or working, rarely going to parties and enjoying himself only through one person karaoke rooms.

this fact upset jisung. he didn't know why, but seeing seungkwan so tired every day made him feel sad(? jisung wasn't sure what it made him feel. it was an emotion he had never experienced before. rainbow told him it meant he had a crush. to this he threw an empty soda can at them). not to mention seungkwan’s upsetting karaoke addiction, which he knew all about the danger of because of reagan, who spent most of her weekends drunk and singing. jisung didn’t know why he took such a liking to seungkwan. what he did know was that he was ecstatic to find that they would be paired together for a project. a project that required quite a bit of teamwork, and a lot of after school work sessions.

seungkwan liked to think that he didn’t hate anyone. he hated evil people, like hitler and stalin and jyp, but he didn’t really hate anyone besides the worst of the worst. that was until he experienced jisung. he wasn’t sure why jisung always talked to him when he was trying to take notes in class. he especially wasn’t sure why he was so excited to be partnered up together for the project that was worth 25% of their grade. seungkwan was less than happy to have to cooperate with jisung for an extended period of time, and he was not looking forward to letting him into his dorm room, or going anywhere near jisung’s frat house. seungkwan had no idea what he was pushed into.

they planned to meet at the cafe on campus at 5:00 pm after class. seungkwan was less than happy. jisung was thrilled. when jisung arrived seungkwan was sitting at a table drinking an americano and working on an english essay. he wasn't sure how to approach him, slowly walked closer before tapping on his shoulder. seungkwan jolted in his seat.

“jesus fuck jisung. you scared the crap out of me,” seungkwan gasped. jisung’s ears flushed as he brought his hand to the back if his neck.

“sorry,” he started, pausing for a second before starting again, “why don't we get started?”. he swung his bag down to the ground as he took a seat. seungkwan offered a small, non genuine smile before pulling out the project’s guidelines.

“let's try to finish this as quickly as possible. im pretty busy and don't have much time to fool around.” seungkwan said. jisung felt his heart drop. did seungkwan really think that little of him? granted, he always dozed off in class but he got his work done on time and in an orderly fashion. he felt his mind begin to wander. if seungkwan felt this way about him now, how would he feel when he found out that jisung was a demon. would seungkwan start to like him if he knew him better? jisung couldn't figure out why he cared so much about how seungkwan perceived him. he had never had an issue with others opinions of him before, so what made seungkwan so different? for some reason, jisung felt the need to connect with seungkwan. if not for himself, then at least to help him let loose.

after working silently on each of their portions of the projects for 3 hours, jisung finally spoke up. “do you want to maybe come to my party next month? well, it's not my party, it's for rainbow’s birthday. i know you're not one for social interaction but it would be cool to see you there. i’ll give you the details if-”

“i’d love to go,” seungkwan cut off jisung’s rambling. to be honest, he wasn't exactly sure what he was agreeing to, but he knew it would shut jisung up, and seungkwan valued his peace and quiet. part of him also just felt downright bad for the other. he seemed to be trying awfully hard to become friends with seungkwan, and he wouldn’t admit it, seungkwan had started to warm up to the boy. he really wasn’t as much of an issue as he had thought before, and was actually really respectful of seungkwan’s wishes. maybe i’ll give him a chance, seungkwan thought before going back to his work.

over the next month, jisung and seungkwan continued meeting to work on their project. seungkwan was less short with the other, and jisung was still red faced every time seungkwan decided to talk to him, which became quite frequently over the next few weeks. jisung was starting to realize that the feelings he had for seungkwan were not simply platonic, and that he didn’t just want to be friends with him. with the help of rainbow and reagan, he had come to the conclusion that he really, really liked seungkwan, and that he was going to do something about it. remembering that he had invited seungkwan to the party, he devised a plan to not only tell seungkwan about his whole “i’m actually a demon” thing, but also about his true feelings. it wouldn't be easy, but it was what he had to do.

a month later, seungkwan still wasn’t exactly sure why he had agreed to go to jisungs frat house at 9:00 pm on a saturday night. yet there he was, standing on the front porch of a large house, wondering if he should bite the bullet and walk in, or spare himself and leave right then. he didn't get a choice, however, as rainbow and reagan stepped out of the house giggling while clutching onto each other. both stopped in their tracks when they saw seungkwan. the couple and seungkwan stared at each other for a good minute before seungkwan shook himself from his trance.

“hey rainbow!” seungkwan started, “and reagan too. i know we aren’t super close, but jisung invited me and i thought i’d just drop by and wish you a happy birthday.” he passed her a birthday card filled with $50 bucks and then turned to leave. “i’ll leave you guys now. have a great birthday!” before seungkwan could get very far, however, rainbow grabbed him by the arm.

“hey, i’d love if you’d stay! at least go say hi to jisung. i’m sure he’d like to see you,” she said, silently making note to have jisung pay her back for being a great wingwoman.

“he’s probably hiding in the second floor bathroom. if you don't see him in there, just say his name three times in front of the mirror. he’ll appear.” reagan explained. seungkwan thought she was joking. how wrong he was.

following his entrance to the house, he had to refuse not one, not two, but three different people who were looking to give him bottles or cups of something which seungkwan presumed to be various types of alcohol. navigating through the house was difficult, reaching the stairs to the second floor only after running into numerous people borderline fucking on two large couches in the living room, a smoke circle taking place in what seungkwan assumed to be a dining room, and a very aggressive makeout session against a wall. once he finally reached the second floor, he had some difficulty finding the bathroom, accidentally walking in on reagan and rainbow, who had miraculously made it upstairs faster than he had.

“if you don’t stop shitting constantly i am going to break up with you! also, stop taking feet pics! it’s weird!” he heard rainbow shout.

“at least i can eat seafood! how does it make your head hurt? you’re the weakest link! that fucking seafood platter was delicious. and you know what, i’m glad i didn’t have to share it with you!” reagan responded. seungkwan quickly shut the door, not wanting to get involved in whatever drunken argument was going on there. after a bit more searching, he finally stumbled across the right room. knocking first to see if anyone was in there, he entered, and to his surprise, nobody was there. jisung was nowhere to be seen. seungkwan reviewed his options. he could a) leave the party, or b) continue to look around the packed house. but there was another option. he thought about it for a second.

“what's the harm in trying,” seungkwan thought out loud, before staring directly into the mirror.

“han jisung, han jisung, han jisung.”

nothing happened. that's what seungkwan thought, until a minute later the lights in the bathroom flickered off and the mirror began to glow. “what. the. fuck,” seungkwan managed to squeak out before falling backwards into the tub. first a leg emerged, then two arms, and finally the rest of jisung’s body.

“i feel like the genie in aladin every time i have to get into a fucking mirror,” jisung complained before seeing seungkwan toppled over. to that view, he jumped down off the counter and moved to help him up. seungkwan, aside from falling, seemed to be reacting well to the whole situation, at least in the sense that instead of freaking out he seemed to be in a state of shock. jisung took this as a good sign, and lifted the motionless body up onto the toilet seat.

“hey seungkwan, you there?” jisung waved his hand in front of seungkwan's face as he slowly came to his senses.

“what kind of twisted party trick was that?” seungkwan asked, pretty seriously. jisung just laughed.

“you summoned me from the mirror. i’m like a funny version of michael jackson except i'm a demon and not a man in the mirror.” jisung explained. seungkwan just stared. “are you ok kwan? do you want me to get you some water?”

“it was… kind of sick.” seungkwan stated. he didn't know why he wasn't scared. under any other circumstance like this one, he probably would have shit his pants. for some reason he felt comfortable around jisung. he felt warm. he felt seen. it was something he hadn't felt before. that's when he realized. he wondered why it took himself to long to figure it out. he never hated jisung. he just didn't know what to do with the fact that he made him feel special, and that he felt as though he belonged when they were together. it had hit him why he was so nervous the whole night, why he had wanted to make such a good impression, and why he was willing to embarrass himself by calling out jisungs name as opposed to just choosing to go home. it was because he loved him.

“can i tell you something?” both of the boys said at the same time. jisung giggled and seungkwan flushed red. **authors note! bonus starts here**

“you first,” seungkwan offered. he wasn't exactly sure he would be able to make it through a sentence without getting any redder than he already was.

jisung took this opportunity to finally get his true feelings out into the air, “i like you… uhh like, i like like you. i have since we first became seatmates. well, i think that's when i've liked you since. i knew whe-”

“you're rambling again,” seungkwan told him. jisung flushed a dark shade of pink. “it's a habit of yours. i think it's cute actually.” seungkwan wasn't sure where his sudden surge of confidence came from, but he was glad it came. he was standing up now, holding jisungs hands in his. jisungs heart was racing a mile a minute as he looked down at their intertwined hands and them back up, catching seungkwan looking directly at his lips. “can… can i kiss you?” seungkwan stuttered out. jisung couldn't find his words, so he opted to just nod.

when their lips connected, seungkwan could have sworn he heard fireworks. he did later find out that someone was setting off a firework in the back yard, but it was the thought that counted. their lips melted together perfectly, and seungkwan wondered why it took him so long to admit his feelings to himself. he could have been kissing jisung for a month before this.

once they finally parted, seungkwan spoke softly, “i like you too. i think that's pretty obvious now but just in case you didn't know.” jisung had the dumbest, most confused face on, and seungkwan had the brightest smile he'd ever had. seungkwan had rendered jisung speechless, for once in his life. not long after, they started kissing again, content with their emotions and their new relationship.

seungkwan was never one to believe that good things were permanent. he was overdramatic, stubborn, and hated interacting with people outside his small social circle. that was until han jisung came along. he was starting to think that maybe, just maybe, he could let someone else into his life.

jisung was a simple man. well, not a man, but he was simple nonetheless. he liked banging parties, booze, the boys™, and bitches. well maybe there was one more thing he liked. he knew for sure he liked boo seungkwan. maybe he loved him. maybe seungkwan even felt the same way.

-fin

**BONUS**

reagan and rainbow leaned up against the door to eavesdrop on their matchmaking work.

“holy shit!” reagan gasped.

“what is it?? tell me what happened. you're hogging up the door!” rainbow hissed.

“our boy is so grown up,” reagan pretended to cry. “put your goddamn ear up here.” rainbow felt her ear connect with the cold door just as jisung confessed his feelings.

“i like you… uhh like, i like like you. i have since we first became seatmates. well, i think that's when i've liked you since. i knew whe-” his next words were cut off on the girls side of the door as reagan squealed.

“shut your mouth! seungkwans saying something!!” rainbow said, obviously annoyed that reagan was obstructing her ability to hear the exchange.

“can… can i kiss you?” they heard seungkwan say. both looked at each other in shock.

“oh. my. god.” was all rainbow could say.

“i think we should give them some alone time,” reagan suggested as she tugged rainbow down the hall.

“i think we need some alone time for ourselves,” rainbow said as reagan pushed her into a random room and locked the door behind them.

[silenceofthecookies]

hey! can i request some headcannons for gundham, fuyuhiko and leon with an ultimate track and field star male!s/o? thank you so much!

Of course you can, anon! I hope you enjoy these ❤ 

Gundham

According to Gundham you are no track and field star. You are the general of the field, defending it with your abilities. The poles and javelins are your loyal subjects and soldiers, following your every command, assuring your victory. Any enemy who steps upon your field will face total annihilation.

Translation: he has mad respect for your abilities and is confident no-one will ever be able to beat you.

He'll try to make it to whatever competition he can, but he makes sure he is there for pentathlons, heptathlons and decathlons, saying he will be ‘using the powers bestowed upon him by the underworld to hinder your enemies'.

Translation: he will be rooting for you.

He has so much respect for you and for what you're able to do. Whenever people ask him about his love life, he will gladly tell them all about you and boast about you.

When he can't make it to a competition, he'll let one or two of his hamsters go with you. The hamsters are 100% used to you and they love you, cuddling you a little extra when they sense you're getting nervous. If you're not nervous, they'll just play some with you and keep you busy.

He'll have an artist draw a badass fantasy version of you. This drawing is already framed and hanging in his home, but he's also printed it on a shirt. Whenever you have a big competition, he shows up wearing that shirt. He refuses to hand the print or the shirt to anyone else.

Compliments he'll give you will often have to do with comparisons to animals. That you're faster than a cheetah, jump higher than a kangaroo, ect. He'd really love to see you face off against some animals sometime, and if you're up for it, he can even arrange that.

Fuyuhiko

Fuyuhiko usually won't come to individual competitions, as he's rather busy himself. He does try to make time in his schedule for combined events though. You're his man and if it's a big moment for you, he'll be there, no matter what.

He has a lot of confidence in you and he always sits down at competitions knowing you're gonna win. You just prove him right every time. On the rare occasion you do lose, or you can't compete because of an injury or because you're sick, he's shocked. Sometimes he forgets that you're only human too, and that bad days and sickness happen to you too.

There's usually a guard or two (or Peko) hanging around you when he isn't. He's a yakuza leader, he has many enemies, and you're a top athlete, an ultimate and his boyfriend. Those are enough reasons for him to think that you're in a dangerous position, so he likes to have some capable people around you, just in case.

Fuyuhiko himself tries to stay out of the track and field world as much as possible, because he doesn't want people to think that you got this far because of him. You got there using your own talents, not because of his influence. He has no problem admitting the two of you are together though. Why would he?

Though track and field was never something he enjoyed, he's happy to see how passionate you are about it. When he's cheering you on, he usually struggles to keep his calm demeanor, as he easily gets swept up in the excitement of the competition. It brings out a child-like excitement in him, and he doesn't like showing other people that side of him (or at least not the other people on the bleachers).

Leon

Ultimate baseball star? More like ultimate hype man. Track and field covers a lot of disciplines, and Leon is just absolutely amazed that you're the best at ever. single. one. Seriously, just how talented are you?

When he's watching you train, he's hooting about how great you are, encouraging you to keep going. When it comes to actual competitions, he's not much different. Hearing ‘that's my man!’ coming from the bleachers is not that uncommon if you're doing well.

When you're running around the field, he'll sometimes run with you. He needs to run for baseball as well, and it's good to run with someone, even if he can't keep up with you.

Leon will absolutely offer you a massage after a long training. He knows how hard you work to stay in shape and he feels like it's so much more than he does. He just wants to support you in any way he can.

His favourite thing to see is the relay races. Team sports are already more his jam, and you're usually the last leg. Seeing you sprinting ahead the moment the baton is in your hands. Seeing you close the distance that may have built up between your teammates and other competitors. Seeing you pass them. Seeing you win. It just gets him so excited, and he screams so loudly when you cross the finish line. The moment when your teammates pick you up to celebrate almost brings him to tears.

He loves to get junk food with you after a good victory. Pizza, fries, taco's, doesn't matter. Anything tasty and greasy will work. This counts for both your victories and his own. The one who won gets to pick to what restaurant you go. Teammates, if any, are allowed to come as well. Celebrations of victory are best done with everyone, right?

[soulmate-game]

Part 2 Of that brucinette one-shot I guess

Caution, this gets a little steamy in the beginning. Nothing explicit, but I’m not subtle.

Part 1

Marinette placed down her now-empty wine glass. Her deep red sleeves, fanned out around her wrist to create a dramatic drip and natural yet artistic wrinkles in the delicate fabric, pooled against the silver tablecloth as she leaned on that now-empty arm. Her blue eyes, partially obscured by thick lashes, looked up at her company as her wine-colored lips tilted upwards at the corner. Not a spec of lipstick was out of place, not a wrinkle could be seen that wasn’t deliberate. Despite the homey, slightly awkward person she had been when in front of his family, this version of Marinette was very much comfortable to be as teasing as she wanted. After all, the two of them were alone on a rooftop and she had waited for this date for twenty-three years.

Sure, she hadn’t stopped dating during that waiting period. She tried to get over him, and she didn’t moan and groan every day at not having him there. She lived normally, for the most part. Had normal relationships, even managed to hang onto one particular boyfriend for two years before she admitted to both of them that it just wasn’t working. It wasn’t what either of them needed.

But despite the normality, despite the attraction and the feelings she built and lost for other men, she never forgot Bruce Wayne. Not truly. Of course, it was hard to completely forget about the man when he still commissioned her twice a year for a new suit but refused to entertain any non-business related conversation. The guy was frustrating, aggravating, but damn did that just endear her to him more. Even when she was in relationships with other people, her image of a perfect family always seemed to star him at her side.

In the end, she knew exactly why she never mourned his loss for long or despaired over their lost relationship. It was never lost. She knew that she would stay in Paris until HawkMoth, and later Monarch, fell. She knew Bruce would avoid Paris just as long. But she also knew that she would see the day that Paris was no longer oppressed by supervillains, and she knew that once that day came Bruce wouldn’t have the chance to get away from her. If he broke it off even after that, then she would leave well enough alone and mourn for real.

But, her smirk widened as she saw Bruce place down his own glass from his spot across from her, a part of her knew he wouldn’t run. He had stayed away because he was bad at emotions, something Marinette had become an expert in herself. He was scared and worried, he didn’t want to lose someone else close to him and knew that superheroism rarely allowed a death of natural causes. He wanted to shield her from everything, keep anything bad from happening, but she told him that she couldn’t allow outside heroes to try to help. He felt like she was keeping him from doing the one thing he wanted to do, be there and make sure she stayed alive.

As usual, his issues with emotion led him away from realizing that she only forbade Batman from helping, not Bruce Wayne. She never would have stopped him from coming to help outside of his costume. He had more to offer than just brawn, after all.

Her eyes trailed along his arms. More to offer, indeed.

What? She was a grown, forty-three year old woman. She was entitled to a bit of fantasy about the guy of her dreams.

“So,” said dream guy spoke up, watching her with an equally, sweetly dark smirk. “I believe I owe you a patrol now?”

Marinette barked out a short peal of laughter, taking the hand he offered to her and allowing him to help her up.

“Are you sure your kids don’t realize that patrol is basically foreplay for seasoned urban-city heroes like us?” She teased him back, her blue eyes sparkling with mirth. Bruce chuckled, resting a warm hand on her lower back, right above the low dip of fabric in her dress and on her bare skin.

“No, because it’s only like that for us and not all seasoned urban heroes,” he corrected, his voice a low rumble in his throat that did things to her, especially with the way he gazed down their gaping height difference into her now dilated pupils. Marinette’s smirk widened into a heated grin.

“I suppose you’re right. But I’d like to get started, and standing on the top of your business’s tower in formal clothing and flirting isn’t exactly going to help us get to that patrol any faster, you know.”

Bruce smiled down at her, picking the smaller woman up to place a gentle kiss on her wine-painted lips. When he pulled away, his own blue eyes were sparkling in mischief to match her own. “Lucky for us, I have an extra suit in my office downstairs.”

“Pfft, amateur,” Marinette teased, tapping her earlobe. “I carry my suit with me everywhere.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Polite knocking on the door caused Marinette to groan, flipping over to bury her face in the scarred, solid, and deliciously bare chest that had been holding her while they slept. A soft chuckle, still deep with leftover grogginess, rumbled through the warm skin and made Marinette burrow in even closer. Her protection from the blasphemy that tried to awaken her rose slightly, making her groan again in protest of her comfort being disrupted. A warm arm wrapping over the top of her body to pull her closer silenced the groan and replaced it with a pleased hum.

“We’re awake, Alfred.”

“Good. I seem to remember Miss Dupain-Cheng having trouble getting up in the morning, so there is still half an hour until breakfast is ready. Masters Tim, Damian, and Miss Cain are already downstairs.”

Bruce laid back down all the way, allowing one hand to smooth down Marinette’s hair. It was still tangled and messy from the previous night. “Thank you, Alfred. It might take more than half an hour to get her up, but we’ll be down for breakfast.”

“Very good, sir.”

Bruce waited until he was sure Alfred was gone, allowing himself the luxury of just enjoying the feel of Marinette’s skin against his own as they laid peacefully in bed. Finally, though, he knew he had to get the both of them started for the day or they would miss breakfast.

“Mari, it’s time to wake up,” he made sure to speak at his normal volume, knowing from experience that trying to wake her up gently would not work. Out of all the heroes he had ever met, she was the deepest sleeper. He never understood how she managed to get away with it.

“Mmmm. I am awake,” she grumbled, but the way she just pressed herself closer to him to absorb more of his warmth just gave her away. Bruce rolled his eyes fondly, running his hand through her hair and picking apart tangled as gently as he could with one hand.

“That’s a lie. Come on, we need to get up and take a shower.”

“Is that an offer?” Was the mumbled response against his chest. He raised his eyebrow despite her not being able to see it.

“If we miss breakfast, Alfred will kill us both. Besides, if we aren’t down in time then the kids will know. They are old and smart enough to put that together, and I rather not scar them for life or endure their relentless teasing.”

“Uuuughhhhhh,” Marinette finally flopped over to lie on her back, one arm slung over her face as she groaned in despair. “I guessssss you have a poinnnnt,” she whined reluctantly.

“But, considering we only have twenty minutes left, we don’t exactly have time for individual showers, do we?”

Marinette’s pout turned into a grin.

Once they both rushed through a shower, absolutely innocent despite Marinette’s sleep-induced teasing earlier, they got dressed. Marinette just raised her eyebrows when she saw that Bruce had a small section of his massive closet stocked with clothes that were mysteriously in her size, but accepted them without a word. She wasn’t surprised.

Walking down the stairs together, Bruce realized he miscalculated when they were greeted by a wolf-whistle. Tim was the culprit, grinning unrepentantly. Damian looked sour as ever, pointedly ignoring the couple, while Cass just smiled knowingly.

Of course. He would have to endure their teasing anyway, because coming down the stairs with Marinette pretty much announced to all of them about how their night went. Great.

Marinette, however, just blushed. She had matured a lot over time, and owning her own fashion label for over fifteen years had helped her get used to being in the spotlight; she still wasn’t the best at dealing with attention though. She waved at the kids shyly before dragging Bruce over to where she knew he sat at the head of the table so that everyone could be distracted by Alfred’s cooking.

Most of the day went by fairly casually. Bruce had brought a lot of his work home with him, so he and Marinette spent a lot of time in one of his sitting rooms just doing paperwork side-by-side on a couch. Owning a company didn’t always allow for vacation time after all, and even though she was overseas Marinette still had forms to fill out and reports to read.

Throughout the day the amount of people in the mansion fluctuated. Damian and Cassandra left for their respective schools, and Barbara went to work. Dick popped by during his lunch break to waggle his eyebrows at the finally official couple and steal some of their cereal. Jason even entered through the window of the sitting room that they were working in, somehow with a knife already in his bicep, about an hour before dinner.

Jason Todd-Wayne learned to fear Marinette Dupain-Cheng that day, as Bruce allowed her to be the one that stitched him up and berated him for not being careful. He would never admit just how much he adored the unfamiliar feeling of being mothered.

And that led to patrol. Marinette knew she couldn’t get Batman to relax for more than a day or two at a time unless he was injured and it was logical for him to rest (and even then she knew it would be an uphill battle).

Having immediately connected all of Bruce’s myriad of children to the appropriate members of the BatFam, and having known Bruce’s identity longer than anyone else in that mansion besides Alfred, she was allowed into the Batcave to watch everyone train and get ready for the night. She was serious about relaxing though, and was sitting back to monitor things at the cave with Oracle this time.

Marinette blinked as Bruce sparred against Damian, the young teenager aggressive in his combat style. She didn’t know his full backstory, but she could piece together the obvious bits. Bruce hadn’t been aware he was conceived, she would have heard about it from Alfred if Bruce knew he had fathered a child, and something about his birth mother must have been touchy enough for Alfred to not have told her about the child when he finally did make his way to Bruce’s care. But seeing the way Damian fought was familiar, and made Marinette stand up and walk over to the spar. She pretended to not care about the heavy gazes that followed her.

She waited until Bruce pinned his son to speak.

“So your biological son has a history with the League of Assassins,” she mused, raising an eyebrow at her boyfriend even as the atmosphere grew thick with tension. “Honestly, What is with you and dangerous women? At least compensate a bit more for his past training,” she shook her head as if she was scolding a child before holding her hand out to Damian. “Come on. Bruce is trying to teach you defensive maneuvers, yes?”

Damian looked cautiously between his father and his father’s new lover. As soon as his father let him go and allowed him to stand up, the boy grabbed Marinette’s hand and tried to toss her over his shoulder. Little did he know, she fully expected that. She pushed herself off the ground, going along with the momentum he had given her. But when he tried to let go of her hand, she held on tight and tugged him along with her. Spinning in midair, she pinned Damian’s arms against his side in mid flight, and when they landed the force allowed even her light weight to completely knock the wind from him. The thirteen-year-old was already just as tall as Marinette and had more solid muscle mass, yet he ended up thoroughly immobilized in less than ten seconds without Marinette ever attacking.

“First off, if you don’t know what your opponent plans to do then it is a good idea to let them attack first. Go with their momentum instead of against it, because nobody is weaker than when they think they have you right where they want you.”

She held the position for another second before stepping off of Damian, and dusting her hands off. Dick whistled appreciatively.

“Wow. Amazing fighting, and good tips to boot. Have you taught other heroes before?”

At that Marinette couldn’t help but cackle, a hand flying to cover her mouth and try to muffle the sound. Once she calmed down, though laughs still forced their way from her throat every few seconds, she waved her hand over to Bruce. He was trying valiantly to loom intimidatingly since he knew where this was going. It did nothing to deter his girlfriend.

“Why do you think I met Bruce when he was eighteen?” Bruce had told her how much of their past he had relayed to his kids. “Back then he was in the thick of his training to become Batman, he didn’t think about much of anything aside from the next person to learn from. He found his way to Paris because a friend of mine happened to meet him in Tibet. Her own family had ties with the League back then and she was making sure they were severed for good. She saw how he was being trained, and after a few days of examining his character, she hinted to him that he could find a good teacher in Paris for what he wanted to achieve.”

“No way,” Jason breathed, eyes growing wide as he and the other kids already started to put together what she was getting at. She smiled widely, nodding.

“I had years under my belt as a hero by then. I’m not versed in nearly as many combat styles as Bruce, but I had a lot of practical experience. I taught him tactics and field improv. The whole reason he decided he needed to carry around Batarangs with him all the time is the fact that I once told him to try to attack me when all I had on me was a normal yo-yo and a length of rope. I handed him his ass for four hours straight. After that, he decided that having something sharp on hand at all times was necessary.”

While she spoke, Marinette went over to her purse and pulled out a normal yo-yo. It was a metal one, but not made out of anything expensive or unbreakable. Just a normal metal yo-yo.

And when she walked over to pull a coil of rope down from their weapons wall, everyone seemed to realize where this was going. She turned back to Damian, ignoring the feral smirk that was now on Batman’s face. She smiled with false innocence.

“Now, for some defensive training you benefit from a bit more, Damian. I’m going to attack you with nothing but this yo-yo and this coil of rope. Defend.”

—*—*—*—*—*

[taeyongdoyoung]

summary: you are a mermaid and you save a handsome man from drowning but little do you know it’s not his first rodeo when dealing with mermaids. seonghwa, a former prince, is currently hongjoong’s first mate and boyfriend. hongjoong is the captain, the pirate king of the most savage crew across the seas. and you want nothing to do with them. not because they’re pirates, but because they’re humans…

ship: mermaid!reader x prince/pirate!seonghwa x pirate!hongjoong

genre: little mermaid!au, pirate!au, romance, ANGST, fantasy

warnings: suicide mentions, murder mentions (rip ariel), depression, panic attack, threats, someone loses a hand (bc let’s be honest, it wouldn’t be a pirate story without hooks), manipulation, betrayal, kidnapping

author’s note: mingi has a cameo, i made him a huge asshole (so sorry, irl mingi), just a reminder that everything i write is completely fictional! mingi is a a total sweetheart, i just needed a villain for the story to develop lmao

word count: 3k

chapter one ☠️ chapter two ☠️ chapter three ☠️ chapter four ☠️ chapter five ☠️ chapter seven ☠️ chapter eight  ☠️chapter nine ☠️ chapter ten ☠️ chapter eleven ☠️ chapter twelve ☠️ chapter thirteen☠️ spotify playlist

You finally felt ready enough to face Seonghwa and let him explain himself. It was only fair, after all. You couldn’t take Hongjoong’s word for it, considering how he felt about you. You had to hear Seonghwa’s side of the story in order to make a proper decision. So, when you swam back to the ship all by yourself (because you didn’t want to deal with Soojin’s cheerful remarks right now), you were happy that Hongjoong wasn’t anywhere to be seen. You assumed he would drown you himself if given the chance. Luckily, you saw Yeosang nearby.

“Yeo!” you whisper-yelled. “Can you call Seonghwa for me?”

“Y/N!” Yeosang seemed surprised to see you. “I’ll get him for you rightaway.”

“Great, thanks!”

“Are you…okay?” he was obviously concerned.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” you lied, because you didn’t feel like getting into it in front of Yeosang.

“Just asking,” Yeosang replied vaguely and went to call Seonghwa.

Soon enough, you were faced with him. It had only been a week of no contact with the gorgeous man and you felt like you had missed him for an eternity. You quickly reminded yourself of the reason you’d come here. You couldn’t go easy on him.

“I need to talk to you,” you stated directly.

“I understand,” Seonghwa sighed. “What about?”

“You know what,” you observed. Judging by how guilty his pretty face looked, he knew very well. And he’d spent many sleepless nights considering it. Serves him right, you thought.

“Do you want me to deny it? Because I can’t,” Seonghwa’s voice broke. “It’s true. I knew Ariel and loved her and she died because of that. You have every right to hate me. What more can I say?”

You looked away, overwhelmed by the painful realization Hongjoong had been telling the truth. But he’d left something out, you knew it.

“Tell me the whole story,” you insisted. “You didn’t kill Ariel yourself, right?”

“Of course not!” Seonghwa cried out.

“Then give me a reason to forgive you for keeping this a secret!” you continued. You couldn’t imagine Seonghwa to be the bad guy. You just couldn’t.

“The local tales have got it all wrong,” Hwa admitted. “I was going to marry Ariel, I didn’t give a shit about that princess my parents were trying to set me up with. See, the thing is…they just couldn’t let me be happy. They bribed the sea witch into turning Ariel into sea foam. When I found out, I was so heartbroken I considering ending my own life. But I had to avenge her death, first. So, I tricked the witch into transforming her body into an exact replica of mine. Her greed was so big she really thought I was just going to hand her my kingdom on a plate. After she was done with the magic, I killed her. I made sure my parents would find the body, because I wanted them to suffer for what they’d done to Ariel. By the time I was done executing my revenge, I didn’t want to die. I knew I had to keep living. For her.”

Your eyes were welled up with tears. Seonghwa’s story was completely devastating. And looking at him now…you knew that was the whole truth. You couldn’t have it any other way. But you also couldn’t bear staying. Not yet, at least.

“Seonghwa…I appreciate you telling me all this,” you murmured. “But I’m going to need some time alone, okay? I loved Ariel, too, you know? And this is just…a lot to take in, yeah?”

Seonghwa nodded sadly.

“I’m going to respect your decision. If you want to talk again, you know where to find me, right?”

“Right. Take care, Seonghwa,” you closed your eyes and sniffed lightly.

“You too, Y/N.”

“And…Seonghwa?”

“Yeah?”

“Remember I don’t hate you. I could never hate you.”

And with that, you swam away.

☠️☠️☠️

Seonghwa’s POV

This shit hurt like hell. I thought my heart had been at its limit when I found out Ariel had been turned into sea foam. Or when I realized Hongjoong had betrayed my trust. I didn’t think it could take any more heartbreak. But here it was. Still beating despite everything I’d been through. I remembered the time I’d wanted to kill myself. Put an end to all my suffering. I felt that wish slowly returning to me. But I couldn’t imagine inflicting such pain on Y/N or my crewmates. Not even Hongjoong…Because even though he stabbed me in the back, I still cared for him deeply. I also thought about Y/N’s last words to me. She didn’t hate me. Despite all I’d had done, she couldn’t hate me. I kept repeating that to myself. She just needed some time to figure things out for herself. If she could potentially forgive me…why couldn’t I forgive myself?

“Hyung, your hands are shaking!” Yeosang interrupted my distressing thoughts all of a sudden. He grabbed them tightly. “Just, breathe, okay?”

I tried to do as he said. But I felt so numb. So weak. So…alone.

“Everything will be fine, hyung, I’m here,” Yeosang kept repeating until my hands stopped shaking. Then, he held me while I fell asleep without saying a word. I was too weak to even open my mouth. What had become of me? I needed to pull myself together.

☠️☠️☠️

In the morning, I couldn’t find Yeosang in the room. I was just about to thank him for everything he’d done for me. I was feeling a lot better and wanted to cook him some chicken to show my gratitude. When I came out of the room, I asked Wooyoung and San if they had seen him, but they said they hadn’t, which was slightly troubling. Me and Hongjoong still weren’t on speaking terms, so I didn’t bother looking for him. I would find Sangie myself. After an hour, I had searched the whole ship. And there was no trace of Yeosang. Which was extremely distressing. Where could he have gone? Without telling anyone? Not me, not even his best friend Wooyoung. Well, desperate times called for desperate measures. So, I found myself forced to reach out to Hongjoong.

“Have you seen Yeosang?” I asked him without even knocking on his door.

“Oh, so now you want to talk to me?” Hongjoong scoffed.

“I don’t want to,” I groaned. “But I’m worried about him. No one’s heard from him for the past hour. I couldn’t find him anywhere. It’s weird.”

Hongjoong put a hand on his forehead in a tired but unsurprised manner. He obviously knew something I didn’t.

“Hongjoong, where is he?”

“Set the course for Mingi’s territory, I’ll explain everything once we get Yeosang back.”

“WHAT?” I yelled, completely terrified for Yeosang’s life. “WHAT WOULD YEOSANG BE DOING IN MINGI’S TERRITORY?”

☠️☠️☠️

Yeosang’s POV

In retrospect, coming here on my own was a very bad idea. But when I woke up in the middle of the night found a note next to my pillow, saying “Come alone if you don’t want your friends to get hurt,” signed with Mingi’s name, I just couldn’t refuse the challenge. I thought I could take him down once and for all. After he’d sold us out for more treasures and a bigger ship, I wanted nothing more than to get rid of him. But I had overestimated my abilities.

“Where is my ring, Kang?” Mingi roared angrily the minute I set foot on his ship.

“What ring?” I played dumb and gave him the most innocent smile I was capable of.

“The ring you stole from me, you bastard!” Mingi hissed. “Fight with me again. Winner keeps the ring.”

“I don’t have your ring,” I admitted. How could I? I had given it to Soojin…But I would never tell Mingi that. I couldn’t risk him going after my sweet angel.

“You lost it?” Mingi screamed in frustration.

“Whatcha gonna do if I did?” I smirked mischievously. I shouldn’t have asked, damnit. Shouldn’t have provoked him.

Mingi lunged at me with his sword. I pulled out mine quickly and fought back. But fuck me, he was faster and more skilled than the last time I’d faced him. He’d been working out, too. Why did I come here again? Ah, yes, thinking it would be noble to sacrifice myself. As long as my friends were safe, right? Well, guess what, dumbass. If I died, what’s the guarantee Mingi wouldn’t come after my friends, anyways? I fought him as hard as I could but I was so tired…I hadn’t been sleeping much the last coupled of days, because I was too busy comforting Seonghwa and making sure he wasn’t going to do something stupid to himself. And now, all these sleepless nights were taking their toll on my sword performance. One moment of distraction and I would be dead. Mingi could spot my frailness and took advantage of it. So far I was managing to give as good as I get. But I knew this couldn’t last forever. I had come totally unprepared for a fight. When Mingi cut off my right hand, I could barely register what had happened. I just stared at my bleeding arm and the limp hand lying on the ground. Mingi was staring, too. He couldn’t believe what he’d just done.

“Fuck!” I screamed in pain and no sooner had I said that than Hongjoong and Seonghwa appeared from out of nowhere and attacked Mingi’s ship with guns blazing. Thank God. Then, I passed out.

☠️☠️☠️

Hongjoong’s POV

“Shh, let him rest,” I whispered to Wooyoung who was being way too loud once we had safely returned to our own ship. Recap: we took Mingi by surprise, which is why we were lucky enough to succeed in disarming him and snatch poor Yeosang away from him. Mingi had not expected us to find him so quickly but the thing is, I knew him all too well. So, locating him hadn’t been difficult. It was watching the consequences of my mistakes that was hard. Because of my softness, Yeosang had lost his hand…If only I had killed Mingi when I’d had the chance. But he used to be one of us. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. We’d almost gotten executed by the army for being pirates because of his betrayal. And for what? More treasures? A bigger ship? Insignificant things when compared to having a purpose in life, having a family. But who was I to judge him? After all, I had been guilty of treason myself. The way I hurt Seonghwa…I could never forgive myself, even if he, by some miracle, did. I was such an incorrigible asshole.

“What happened?” I heard Yeosang’s weak voice pull me out of my self-deprecating thoughts.

“Well, for starters, you lost a hand,” I informed Yeosang, thought I doubted my input would be of much help.

“I can see that, jackass,” Yeosang rolled his eyes. “How did you get me out in time? How did you beat Mingi?”

“We were just lucky, that’s all,” I lied. I was doing an awful lot of that recently. Yeosang didn’t have to know what I’d given up in order to get there on time. It would break him. And he had already been through hell.

Yeosang narrowed his stare in suspicion, but didn’t push it.

“Where is Seonghwa?”

“He’s resting,” Wooyoung responded. “You should, too, pal, you look like shit.”

“Thanks,” Yeosang groaned sarcastically.

“Listen, Sangie…I know you probably don’t want to hear any of that right now, but this is just a reminder that we’re here for you. And this isn’t the end. You can always learn how to use a sword with your left hand and…”

“You’re right, Cap,” Yeosang cut me off. “I don’t wanna hear it.”

I nodded in understanding.

“Get some sleep, yeah? We’ll talk again…once you’re ready.”

Wooyoung gave his best friend a supportive squeeze of the arm and we left Yeosang to his own devices. He’d be okay. He was a strong one. But me? I was way past saving…

☠️☠️☠️

Seonghwa’s POV

“You promised you’d explain everything once we get Yeosang back,” I grabbed Hongjoong by the collar of his shirt. “We got him back. How did you know he would be on Mingi’s ship? And how on earth did you make the ship move so fast?”

Hongjoong closed his eyes to hide himself from me. But I wasn’t going to let him. He would tell me the truth or he would have to say goodbye to me. For good.

“Seonghwa…”

“No, Hongjoong. You will tell me everything right now or I’m walking out of here, you hear me?”

Hongjoong opened his eyes, fear evident in them.

“Where do you want me to start?”

“At the beginning.”

“But you have to listen without saying a word. Telling you all this is going to be quite difficult for me. If you have any questions, ask me after I’m done. Can you do that for me?”

I nodded.

“So…you know how Yeosang stole this really pretty ring from Mingi back when he betrayed us? But what you don’t know is that this ring was the only thing Mingi had left from his lover. Now, I don’t know her identity but whoever she was, she meant the world to Mingi. See, the problem is…Yeosang gave that ring to Soojin. And I somehow…suspected that Mingi would find out the ring was missing. That he would come looking for the ring. And I was right. It’s just a miracle we got there on time.”

I tilted my head slightly. Something didn’t add up. I didn’t trust Hongjoong’s bullshit explanation. He was keeping something from me. Again.

“You suspected it? A miracle? Do you take me for a fool, Hongjoong? What are you not telling me?”

Hongjoong bit his lower lip as if it to keep his precious secrets from spilling.

“Mingi’s lover was the sea witch you killed. The same who turned Ariel into sea foam.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I hissed angrily.

“I wish I was. A couple of hours ago when we were on his ship, Mingi confronted me about it. He said he knew she wouldn’t just disappear from him without a trace. I told him she was dead. I’d buried her body. Well, your body. ”

“Hongjoong…” I clenched my fists and gave him a warning look that was self-explanatory.

“I didn’t tell him you killed her, of course,” Hongjoong replied quickly. “But I did tell him it was mermaids who killed her,” he announced proudly. What the fuck?

“You didn’t…” I said in vain, even though I already knew he did. He was that big of a dumbass. “What if he comes after Y/N? After Soojin? They’re innocent, Hongjoong! How could you involve them like this?”

“Was I supposed to let Mingi come after you? We barely escaped him...”

I shook my head in disappointment. He was insane. Then, it hit me. He was still hiding something. Something bigger.

“How did we get there so fast?”

Hongjoong gulped nervously.

“Don’t make me…” he begged.

“Make you?” I laughed maniacally. “You dug your own grave, sweetheart.”

Hongjoong flinched as if I’d struck him. Had I gone too far? Maybe. But he started it.

“I won’t tell you,” he was adamant about it. “I’ll tell you anything else but not this.”

“Then, we’re done here,” I turned around and started walking away.

“No, Hwa, please,” Hongjoong begged and tried to take my hand but I shrugged him off.

“You don’t get to keep things like that from me, to betray my trust again and again, and then ask me to stay,” I whispered.

🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️

Reader’s POV

“How long will it take you to forgive Seonghwa?” Soojin sighed, exasperated.

“What’s it to you? You can go see your precious boyfriend whenever you want,” you snapped at your sister.

“Yeah, but it’s way more fun when we go to our pirates together!” Soojin explained.

You laughed sarcastically.

“Since when are they our pirates? They are humans, Soojin, not property!”

“Okay, okay,” Soojin lifted her arms in the air, surrendering. “But seriously…we should go talk to them again. I have a bad feeling…I don’t know how to explain it, I just…I’m worried about Yeosang. Please?”

You agreed reluctantly.

“But if everything’s alright, I’m going back here,” you announced.

Soojin nodded excitedly. The two of you swam up. Once you reached the surface, you realized Soojin had picked an awful time to check up on Yeosang. It was too dark. And as you approached the ship, you were overwhelmed by a gnawing sensation. Soojin had been right. Something was awfully wrong. The ship seemed exactly like Hongjoong’s…And yet, there was something strange you couldn’t quite place. Did it look bigger at night? How was this possible? You had seen it at night when you’d saved Seonghwa from drowning…And it did not look like this. Had your memories deceived you? You could tell this was certainly a pirate ship. But why were you doubting it was the pirate ship you’d been looking for? What were the odds to run into other pirates in the middle of the night? You were fairly certain you could recognize Hongjoong’s ship anywhere. And yet…

“Yeosang!” Soojin started screaming mournfully. “Where are you?” You could tell by her voice that she was worried sick about her pirate boyfriend. And for a good reason.

“Shh,” you pressed your hand against your sister’s mouth. “Quiet. Something’s not right.”

She blinked at you in confusion.

“What do you mean?” she mouthed.

“I don’t know,” you mouthed back. “But before we found out, can you keep it down?”

Soojin nodded, obviously trusting your judgement. She was uncharacteristically anxious, too. Instead of her usual cheerful self, she was being very jumpy.

“Listen…let’s come back here when it’s daylight, okay?” you suggested. “I’m sure Yeosang will be fine.”

“Just let me try calling his name one more time, yeah?” Soojin murmured hopefully.

“Soojin, no!” you tried to stop her but it was already too late.

“YEOSANG!” Soojin cried out.

It was in that moment the fishnets fell upon you.

To be continued…

[ibijau]

Age reversal AU: part 1, part 2, part 3, on AO3

Nie Huaisang lets himself dream of the future, only to be brought back to reality.

warning for major character death, depression, and just everything being awful :)

In spite of the new understanding between himself and Lan Xichen, Nie Huaisang refused to change his priorities. No matter how many times Nie Mingjue tried to convince him to go spend time in the Cloud Recesses, for weeks Nie Huaisang would not abandon his duty. He had promised himself for years that his brother would not deal with the burden of power before his time had come, and he would not break that promise.

It was not just a wish for Nie Mingjue to have the youth he never had that motivated Nie Huaisang. He wanted his brother to have a chance to know himself and learn his limits, so he wouldn’t ignore the signs if things became too much for him, or if his body started to strain under the pressure. Nie Huaisang remembered their father’s death too well, and did not wish for his brother to go through that.

It was not a subject they liked to talk about. Nie Huaisang had seen too much, and he had failed to protect Nie Mingjue from some of what happened at that time. It felt simpler to pretend it never happened. And yet, as they continued preparing for the passing of power that would happen in a few months, Nie Huaisang decided they needed to have a serious talk about what he privately considered to be their family’s curse.

He asked his brother to join him one night for a walk on the walls that surrounded the Unclean Realm. Nie Mingjue readily agreed, and listened attentively as they strolled together and his brother explained, in greater detail than ever before, what it meant to be a Nie. When he was done, the sky was dark as ink above them, and the Unclean Realm uncommonly quiet below them.

“Have you ever come close to it?” Nie Mingjue asked after a long while.

Normally, Nie Huaisang would have joked or deflected the question. But that night was different, and his brother deserved honesty.

“I had a Qi deviation after my mother died,” he confessed. “I’m lucky Lan Qiren had come running when he heard about her, or it might have been over for me as well.”

Without warning, Nie Mingjue grabbed him and pulled him into a close hug. He really was too big for that, but Nie Huaisang gladly allowed it and returned the embrace, clinging to his brother. Even years later, it still scared him to think about what had happened then. He had come close to dying, Lan Qiren had told him later. That would have been bad enough already, but to die and leave Nie Mingjue to fend for himself would have been…

“It worries me a little,” Nie Mingjue admitted. “I don’t have the best of tempers…”

“An understatement.”

“What if I get too angry one day? What if something gets to me, like with Father, and then…”

Nie Huaisang held him closer, patting his back.

“What happened to father was special,” he reminded his brother. “What happened to me as well. Father was pushed toward this, you know losing a spiritual weapon could have that effect even on someone from another sect. And I was dealing with too much, without realising how bad things were. That’s why I always want you to go and have your fun. You need to know how it feels to be well and happy, so you’ll notice it when it stops.”

“You mean like you’ve done all these years?”

Nie Huaisang pulled away from the hug, and slapped his arm for his insolence.

“Disrespectful! I really got stuck with the worst little brother, always mocking me! Ah, I should really have forced Wangji to exchange with me when you and Xichen were little! It would have been nice to have a sweet and respectful little brother instead of a big brute like you!”

“It’d be more awkward to kiss him if he were your brother though,” Nie Mingjue pointed out, earning another light slap.

“Shameless! Woe is me, my brother is really the worst,” Nie Huaisang sighed, glad that it was dark enough to hide he was blushing. “You’re an awful little brat, I swear.”

Nie Mingjue laughed, too loud for this time of night, but Nie Huaisang didn’t bother scolding him. 

“But really, how much of a risk is there?” Nie Mingjue asked after a moment, turning serious once more.

“Not too much,” Nie Huaisang replied. “Meditate a lot, cultivate responsibly, and act righteously, that should keep you safe for many years to come. We die earlier than most cultivators, but we still live longer than common people. Our grandmother ruled the sect until she was over a hundred! And when she was born, her father was already well into his eighties but not looking a day over twenty, or so everyone says. Our father was an exception. Live a good, balanced life, and you will be fine.”

“And you?”

Nie Huaisang laughed, and slapped his arm again. 

“Stop worrying about me, I’ve told you it’s not your job!”

“No, I guess that will be Xichen’s,” Nie Mingjue retorted with a smug grin. “I’m going to write to him to take good care of you. I’ll tell him to make sure you meditate, and that you need to eat well, and…”

“You will do no such thing, you awful little brat!” Nie Huaisang gasped, his face burning as he reached up to press his hands against his brother’s mouth to silence him. “I can’t believe the nerve… if you do that, I’m not sending you to Lotus Piers next week! I am perfectly capable of making those negotiations myself, you know!”

Nie Mingjue licked the hand on his mouth, prompting Nie Huaisang to pull it away in disgust.

“On the way back from Lotus Piers, you can drop in Gusu,” Nie Mingjue teased. “And I’ll just have to invite Wanyin to come here to check some things with me while you’re making out with Xichen in the Cloud Recesses.”

“Shameless! I would never treat Lan Xichen with anything but the utmost respect, I assure you!”

“Trust me, he didn’t wait that long to be respected.”

Nie Huaisang gasped, horrified that his brother would cast such accusations against Lan Xichen’s excellent character. He started a long winded, mostly nonsensical rant against Nie Mingjue’s lack of respect for his elders, which went on until they were both laughing too hard to breathe. It felt needed, after having spent so much time on such a serious topic.

-

In the end, Nie Huaisang did go to Lotus Piers to negotiate some details of an alliance with Yunmeng Jiang. He also had to ask that Jiang Wanyin go to the Unclean Realm at his earliest convenience to check on further details that Nie Huaisang and him had not managed to agree on. Jiang Wanyin complained at length, even openly accusing Nie Huaisang of having made things difficult on purpose (a rightful accusation, Nie Huaisang had to help his brother) but he agreed in the end, grumbling that he’d been intending to go to Lanling anyway to visit his nephew.

Jiang Wanyin seemed to be doing better these days, or so Nie Huaisang thought. He wasn’t back to what he had been before the war and that mess with Wei Wuxian, but he also no longer looked as if he might burn the world around him at the slightest provocation. Hopefully, spending a little time in the Unclean Realm alone with Nie Mingjue would help him relax further.

Because Nie Huaisang, at last, had given in and agreed to spend some time in Gusu again. His brother had insisted that he wanted another chance to run things on his own before the big power change, and he had been so annoying about it that Nie Huaisang had let him have his way, as always. 

It was, as always, delightful to spend time in the Cloud Recesses. Much like last time, Lan Xichen took him on walks in the mountains or inside the Recesses. Their goal was always a certain beautiful vista to paint, or a quiet place perfect for meditation. 

Each time they did end up making out, as Nie Mingjue had so crudely put it, but Nie Huaisang would have insisted that was never the point of their excursions. 

When they could not go out because of the weather, Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen stayed in the Hanshi and planned for the future. The world was vast, and there were so many places they wanted to see. This mountain was reputed for its majestic landscape and as an excellent place for meditation. That valley was home to a painter of great renown. And that forest harboured many powerful creatures against which a young cultivator seeking to make a name for himself, even if he had to drag his poor lazy lover there. 

Once or twice, Lan Qiren found them discussing those things. It was obvious he was not thrilled by the perspective of his younger nephew leaving the Cloud Recesses this way, though Nie Huaisang suspected it was less outright disapproval, and more because he dreaded being left alone with his other nephew. Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen had already agreed that they would not start wandering right away, so everyone could be eased into this new situation. 

Lan Qiren also took the chance to demand that they visit some isolated sect that had once copied volumes from Gusu Lan's library. Considering he was stealing away his better nephew, Nie Huaisang saw no reason to refuse that favour. 

Nie Huaisang was getting to the end of his fourth week in Gusu and already preparing to head home when worrying news reached them concerning Lanling Jin. Xue Chengmei, already the source of so much tension, was rumoured to have slaughtered an entire sect through means yet to be determined. 

At a normal time, this would have already been worrying news. But with Nie Mingjue alone and unsupervised in the Unclean Realm, who had been waiting for any excuse to stand up to Jin Guangshan… 

Feeling a disaster coming, Nie Huaisang took his leave from his hosts and headed for Lanling. 

-

The only surprising thing, Nie Huaisang thought later, was that Nie Mingjue had handled the situation with unexpected calm. 

Because Nie Mingjue had not been able to leave the Unclean Realm right away while Nie Huaisang had flown faster than he ever had in his life, he arrived as little brother was only starting to confront Jin Guangshan for his disciple's crimes.

It wasn't an ideal way to deal with the situation, and it certainly wasn't how Nie Huaisang would have done it. But when Nie Huaisang was brought into Carp Tower's throne room, his brother was very calmly explaining that Xue Yang needed to be found and interrogated as quickly as possible. 

Jin Guangshan, sitting on his throne, stared him down. Or at least tried to. Few people had what it took to actually intimidate Nie Mongjue, and Jin Guangshan definitely wasn't one of them. Poor Jin Guangyao, standing at his father's side, had the look of a man who knew this and wished he could be anywhere but where he currently was. 

"I understand Nie gongzi's worry," Jin Guangshan stated in a mellow voice that was the surest way to annoy Nie Mingjue. “And I assure you that the appropriate measures will be taken, of course. But since Xue Yang is a member of my sect, I hardly see how that concerns you.”

At that point Nie Huaisang, whose arrival had yet to be announced, prepared himself to step forward so he could smooth things over while still making it clear that on general principle, Qinghe Nie would not drop that matter. Before he could say a word though, Nie Mingjue managed to surprise them all.

“As a matter of fact, it does concern Qinghe Nie,” he announced. “Chang zongzhu survived the massacre of his sect because he was Night Hunting. Upon discovering what happened to his people, he decided to come ask for our support in pursuing those who harmed his family and his disciples.”

Jin Guangshan glared at him, while Nie Huaisang had to open his fan to hide a grin.

“If Chang Ping suspects a disciple of ours, then he should have taken the matter to Carp Tower,” Jin Guangshan complained. “We would have received his grievance and started an investigation much earlier.”

“Because it was a Jin disciple who appeared to have attacked him, Chang zongzhu feared the attack had been ordered by you,” Nie Mingjue retorted.

“Of course that’s unlikely!” Nie Huaisang intervened, rushing ahead, still half hiding behind his fan. “I cannot imagine why Jin zongzhu would have held a grudge against such a small sect. And of course, there is Xue Chengmei’s reputation to take into account, he has never been the most reasonable of boys. Still, Qinghe Nie never turns its back on those who require its assistance.”

“And so we will look for Xue Yang,” Nie Mingjue added, smirking smugly now that his brother was there, supporting his choice. “We’ll make sure he is duly interrogated so there can be no doubt about Lanling Jin’s role in what happened.”

“Indeed, your innocence must be proven,” Nie Huaisang agreed. “We shall take great pain so the whole truth is uncovered. After all, our sects are allies, we want to help.”

Nie Mingjue snorted, the brat that he was, but Nie Huaisang simply lowered his fan and smiled innocently. He did his best to look just as stupid and uninterested as Jin Guangshan believed him to be, fanning himself lazily, knowing perfectly well that Jin Guangshan could hardly ask them to stop helping a man whose family had been slaughtered. Especially not when Chang Ping was known as something of a pushover who didn't have the spine to offend anyone, and thus couldn't have deserved such hatred. 

In fact, Nie Huaisang had half a suspicion that it might have been his brother seeking Chang Ping to offer his help rather than the opposite. If so, he was insanely proud of Nie Mingjue for covering himself this well before pissing off Jin Guangshan. 

His brother might have managed to learn some diplomacy after all, and he was using it in a way that suited his convictions.

Suddenly, Nie Huaisang was glad that he and Lan Xichen wouldn't be able to start travelling right away. Sect politics were going to become very interesting in the coming years, mostly because Nie Huaisang couldn't wait to see Jin Guangshan put in his place. And with the way Nie Mingjue seemed to be earning the support of smaller sects… the Jins were rich and powerful but they weren’t the Wens, not by far, and if enough other sects sided with Nie Mingjue… Not to mention they had the Lans on their side, albeit unofficially. And while Jiang Wanyin would not be able to openly oppose Jin Guangshan as long as Jin Ling was in his grandfather’s hands, he probably would be reluctant to support the Jins more than strictly necessary if trouble came up.

Not that Nie Huaisang expected that to happen.

Jin Guangshan had many faults, but he was far from stupid and he never took unnecessary risks if he could avoid it. So what would happen, Nie Huaisang figured, was that Jin Guangshan would wisely drop his recent talk of needing a Chief Cultivator, fully aware that Nie Mingjue was a lot more popular than himself in spite of not even being sect leader yet, he would let them punish Xue Chengmei who had been little more than a nuisance in spite of his skill at reproducing Wei Wuxian’s tools, and start looking for some new, less dangerous way of extending his power, giving them all a little peace while he figured that out.

Of this, Nie Huaisang was convinced, because he held Jin Guangshan’s intellect in higher regard than the man had ever done for him.

His opinion of Jin Guangshan was not shared by all, though. As Nie Mingjue and Nie Huaisang made their way to exit Carp Tower, Nie Huaisang heard his name called. He turned to find a breathless Jin Guangyao running their way, who all but begged for a chance to speak with Nie Huaisang, and him alone, before they left.

“I can hear anything you have to say to him,” Nie Mingjue said, glaring at his sworn brother. “Aren’t we all one big family or something?”

Jin Guangyao flinched, but Nie Huaisang almost laughed, knowing this was his brother’s attempt at being nice to a man he only tolerated these days.

“Of course we are,” Jin Guangyao said with a short bow. “But in this instance, I really must speak to Nie zongzhu alone.”

“Is it necessary?” Nie Mingjue insisted. “We have to head home. Your father isn’t polite enough to give us a room for the night, and I’d rather not spend a night in that vipers’ nest anyway.”

“Manners,” Nie Huaisang scolded him with a light slap with his fan. “And I’d thought you’d done so well today. Go ahead, A-Jue. Wait for me at that nice inn we went the other time, the one that has such good wine, I’ll meet you there when I’m done with A-Yao. I’m sure it won’t be very long, anyway.”

Predictably, Nie Mingjue grumbled at leaving his brother alone with Jin Guangyao, but ultimately obeyed so he wouldn’t have to end up spending time with his sworn brother. Nie Huaisang, who honestly also would have preferred to go home to plan their next move, followed Jin Guangyao into the gardens of Carp Tower. 

Very quickly, he couldn’t help noticing that Jin Guangyao seemed oddly nervous, even compared to what had become usual for him since joining Lanling Jin. If Nie Mingjue had been with them it might have made sense, Jin Guangyao was far too observant not to know that his sworn brother still resented him for his past choices and liked to oppose him just for the sake of being contradictory. But Jin Guangyao had always been able to relax and be himself around Nie Huaisang, the two of them understanding that there was little need for pretences between them. They knew what they were, where they stood with each other.

“So, what is this about?” Nie Huaisang asked when he’d had enough of Jin Guangyao’s anxious glances and nervous silence. “Did you really have something to tell me, or was this just an excuse to enjoy my delightful company?”

“I had something to say,” Jin Guangyao admitted. “I am just trying to find how to say it when I know you won’t like hearing it.”

“Then you need to spend more time with my brother. He hardly ever opens his mouth without purposefully saying something to annoy me, that little brat.”

Jin Guangyao smiled weakly, and nodded.

“Nie zongzhu, you might not be the only one to feel this way,” he sighed. “Your brother has been… remarkably lacking in respect for his elders, hasn’t he?”

Nie Huaisang fanned himself lazily.

“My brother believes in respecting actions, not positions. Which gives him a pretty good excuse to only respect a few people, and as we’ve both seen your father is not on that list.”

Jin Guangyao grabbed his arm, tightly enough to surprise Nie Huaisang, and threw him a pleading look.

"Nie zongzhu, I beg you, you can't let your brother continue to antagonise everyone like this. I'll be the first to admit that this situation with Xue Yang is shameful for our sect, but you have to save my father some face. He is a sect leader, not some merchant to be bullied into obedience."

"A-Yao, you know better than me that,” Nie Huaisang protested with surprise. “I've never been any good at controlling my brother. When he wants something, he does it."

For a moment Jin Guangyao’s expression turned more desperate at that answer, before he promptly got himself back under control and smiled without conviction.

"That's not true. He respects you,” Jin Guangyao claimed, which was both very sweet of him, and very wrong in Nie Huaisang’s opinion, “and when you insist on something, he gives in to your orders, even if it's only after a fight."

"But first we have to fight,”Nie Huaisang pouted, “and I'm not too fond of that." 

"Huaisang-ge, please…" 

"Why would I fight with Mingjue on this, anyway?” Nie Huaisang asked, turning more serious. “His manners are usually bad, sure, because I raised him all wrong, but he's right about this. Xue Yang must be found and brought to justice, and we need to understand how he did this. We didn’t kill Wei Wuxian for this to happen again, A-Yao.”

“My father…”

“Your father needs to learn to play nice,” Nie Huaisang interrupted, closing his fan to tap it on Jin Guangyao’s shoulder. “Even if I intervened and forced Mingjue to back down this time, which I have no intention of doing, it would still be a matter of time before I lost that power. In three months my brother will be sect leader, so your father had better learn how to deal with that while I’m still here to smooth things over.”

“Huaisang-ge, please!”

“Times are changing, A-Yao,” Nie Huaisang said, opening his fan again. “I’ve been forced to make things easy for your father and all those old farts, but Nie Mingjue won’t need to. He has the legitimacy I’ve never had, he can do anything he pleases… and he has the temperament for it, as well. So if I may allow myself a word of advice… be careful which side you pick, if it really comes down to a fight between my brother and your father. Only one of them has shown willingness to value you for your true worth, and for all that he tries to be cold to you, I know he misses the closeness you used to share.”

Far from comforting Jin Guangyao, Nie Huaisang’s words appeared to make the younger man even more hopeless and nervous than before. Not for the first time, Nie Huaisang found himself wishing he had not given in so easily when his brother had asked him to recommend Jin Guangyao to Jin Guangshan. They just did not appreciate him in Carp Tower.

“Huaisang-ge, Nie zongzhu, I will not insist any further,” Jin Guangyao sighed. “Thank you for putting up with my attempt to bring reconciliation. If nothing else, I can now have peace of mind, knowing I tried my best.”

“Of course you did,” Nie Huaisang agreed. “A-Yao, no one knows better than me how hard you try, and I am very grateful to you. Still, sometimes, certain things can’t be avoided, because certain people are just too stubborn. It’s not your fault, so don’t blame yourself. As you said, you’ve done your best, and now things must just follow their natural course.”

-

It was Lan Xichen’s idea that the three of them should go on a Night Hunt together. As he pointed out, it was Nie Mingjue’s last chance to go wherever he pleased without needing to worry about responsibilities, and it would not hurt him to take down some powerful beast in his last days as a free man. And as it happened, a great demon tiger had been causing awful trouble in an western province of the country. It had never yet been fully defeated, but over the centuries some powerful cultivators had managed to send it hiding back to its den for a few decades here and there, always gathering great fame. Since they were all three extremely competent cultivators, who were smart enough to know their limits, there was little fear to be had for their safety. And should they fail to locate the demon tiger, they were sure to stumble upon some other prey to take down, or failing that to have a pleasant time in one another’s company.

Because as Lan Xichen sheepishly confided to Nie Huaisang in private when he arrived in the Unclean Realm to join his sworn brothers, Night Hunting was not the true purpose of their expedition.

In the weeks following the slaughter of Yueyang Chang, tensions had grown worse between Qinghe Nie and Lanling Jin. While this had to be expected, it also had the consequence of making Jin Guangyao’s life even worse. He tried not to complain about it, least of all to the Nie brothers, but Lan Xichen had learned that Jin Guangshan blamed his son for not being able to influence his youngest sworn brother, as well as for not having better controlled Xue Chengmei. Lan Xichen had not managed to make Jin Guangyao confirm this, but he had also seen bruises on his sworn brother, and suspected that Madam Jin was taking advantage of this fall from grace of her husband’s bastard to physically abuse him without consequences.

What Lan Xichen hoped for this Night Hunt was to push again for a reconciliation between his two friends. With just the three of them travelling together for a week or so, it would be hard not to have a conversation or two that might remind them why they used to be so fond of each other.

Nie Huaisang, who had noticed some of those things regarding Jin Guangyao and was appalled to learn of the rest, started wondering once more if the young man might not be convinced to return into Qinghe Nie. Clearly his stunt in Lanling Jin had brought him nothing but pain, whereas if Nie Mingjue gave him a second chance, they could make a devastating team together and pull the cultivation world in a better direction.

So Nie Huaisang gave Lan Xichen’s little scheme his full blessing, and stole a kiss for good measure.

It was a quiet week without Nie Mingjue around to bother him. Nie Huaisang was able to put finishing touches to the preparations for his brother’s rise to power, and even had time to go check on Chang Ping and his surviving disciples, who had been installed in a house in Qinghe. The poor man was living in terror of Xue Chengmei and Jin Guangshan, convinced that they would try to get rid of him to prevent him from testifying, should the young man be captured. Which he would be, Nie Huaisang promised them. He had heard that Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen had recently sworn they would see Xue Chengmei brought to justice. Chang Ping did look a little better after getting the news.

The day after that visit was when the three young men that Nie Huaisang absolutely refused to call the Venerated Triad, lest it went to their head, should have returned to the Unclean Realm. It didn’t particularly worry him when they didn’t. If they hadn’t found their demon tiger, then they might have decided to stay a little longer in the area not to return empty handed. Lan Xichen might have been hoping for reconciliation, but Nie Mingjue took his Night Hunts seriously.

Another day passed without news, and Nie Huaisang still refused to worry. If he started fretting, Nie Mingjue would hear about it when he returned and tease mercilessly for being a mother hen.

On the third day after the proposed date of their return, Nie Huaisang did fret a little, and sent a disciple to go check the area where the young men had gone to Night Hunt. He would deal with Nie Mingjue’s teasing when it would turn out they had just gotten lost on the way home.

On the morning of the fourth day, Nie Huaisang was woken up before dawn by someone barging into his room. Before he could comprehend what was happening, he had already grabbed the dagger he slept with and slashed toward the intruder.

“Nie zongzhu, you have to come!” cried a voice he recognised as one of his disciples who were less likely to try to murder him in sleep. “It’s your brother!”

“Where?” Nie Huaisang snarled, grabbing the man by the collar, forgetting the blade still in his hand.

“In, in the courtyard, they just arrived. But he… N-Nie zongzhu, he’s....”

Nie Huaisang pushed him aside and dashed out of his room, keeping his dagger close in case this was a very stupid last minute plot to overthrow him and his brother. 

When Nie Huaisang arrived into the main courtyard, the amount of people present at such an early hour told him that something was deeply wrong indeed. Several of them were shouting orders, quite a few were crying. All those who spotted him, in nothing but his underwear and with a blade in hand, had a look of terror that he wasn’t quite used to causing in others. As he walked toward the main group of people, they all made way for him, watching him as if he were a rabid beast.

He stopped paying attention when he arrived at the reason for that commotion.

There were two bodies laying on the ground. The first wore clothes that must have once been white, but had turned dark from blood and grim. Healers were hard at work around that figure, but Nie Huaisang barely paid attention to it because next to Lan Xichen was…

“Why aren’t you helping my brother?” he hissed, pulling one of the healers by the collar and pushing him toward Nie Mingjue. “He’s right there, look at him!”

The man scrambled away from him. Away from Mingjue as well, as if he couldn’t see the deep gashes in his body, and how pale he looked. At least he wasn’t bleeding, Nie Huaisang hysterically thought. If he wasn’t bleeding anymore, then it had to mean they had treated his wounds already. It wasn’t enough though. They should have been sharing spiritual energy to help him. Anyone, all of them, Nie Huaisang would have drained them of their Qi to the last drop so his brother would stop looking like that.

So the people around Nie Huaisang would stop staring at him as if he were a beast ready to strike.

“Help him!” he roared. “Help my brother!”

“Nie zongzhu, look at him.”

Nie Huaisang turned to glare at the person who had spoken, one of his father’s uncles. One of the few elders against whom Nie Huaisang didn’t hold too much of a grudge. The old man knew it, too, and maybe that was what made him brave enough when everyone else cowered in fear.

“Nie zongzhu, your brother is dead.”

Nie Huaisang felt something snap inside of him.

His brother. His Mingjue, his A-Jue, the boy he had raised.

His brother, pale and broken on the ground.

His brother, dead.

His brother, whom he had failed.

Nie Huaisang felt a rage and sorrow unlike anything he had ever experienced seized him.

The last thing he remembered, before the rage took him over, was raising his dagger to attack the uncle who had given him the news he never wanted to hear.

-

Nie Huaisang survived his Qi deviation.

He didn’t want to, but others saved him against his will.

His disciples, when they managed to subdue him. Even in a state of rage, he was no match for real Nie cultivators.

The Lans when they arrived, alerted of what had happened as soon as the wounded young men had reached the Unclean Realm. Lan Qiren and Lan Wangji took turns between playing their cursed songs to him and caring for Lan Xichen.

His own traitorous body, too used to surviving everything to know when to give up. As if it didn’t realise that the very reason why he had survived it all was now gone.

Nie Huaisang lived, and found it regretful.

-

When they deemed him well enough for an explanation, they gave Nie Huaisang a calming drug and allowed Jin Guangyao to explain to him what had happened. 

The Night Hunt had started normally. They had reached the area in which the demon tiger was rumoured to live, and had indeed found many traces of its presence. They had carefully planned how to attack it, basing their choices on descriptions of past fights against the beast.

Those plans had been quickly ruined by an unexpected fog that fell upon them out of nowhere, so fast that before the three of them could realise what happened, they had lost track of one another. Jin Guangyao described how he had wandered in the fog for what felt like hours, until a heavy smell of blood caught his attention. He followed it, only to find Nie Mingjue prostrated on the ground, next to the carcass of an enormous tiger.

When Jin Guangyao stepped closer, Nie Mingjue attacked him.

At that point, Nie Mingjue was already gravely wounded, enough so that the blood loss and intense emotions could easily have combined to cause a Qi deviation in him. And in such a state, he would surely have killed Jin Guangyao if Lan Xichen hadn’t arrived in time.

“He tried everything,” Jin Guangyao told Nie Huaisang in a weak voice. “Huaisang-ge, he did his best, but Mingjue was attacking him without reserve while Xichen didn’t want to hurt him and… He did his best, I swear he did his best. He did all that he could. But in the end, Mingjue only stopped because he…”

He couldn’t bring himself to say it.

Even through the drug, Nie Huaisang did not want to hear it.

“Xichen was so badly wounded!” Jin Guangyao cried, unable to stop his tears. “I thought I would lose him as well, but the fog cleared, and I was able to send a distress signal, but… there are no sects there, and I was tired too, so tired. We were rescued by some passing farmers and I tried to send a message. Huaisang-ge, I swear I tried my best! I managed to pay for us to be brought to the nearest city, and there we met with some cultivators from Moling Su who were coming for the tiger as well. They helped us return to the Unclean Realm, we simply couldn't have done it without them, and… and you know the rest. I tried, Huaisang-ge! I tried but we couldn’t stop Mingjue, we just couldn’t!”

Nie Huaisang ignored his tears, and his cries about trying his best.

Someone like Jin Guangyao, how could he even have hoped to stop Nie Mingjue who at fifteen was stronger than most adults could ever dream to be? Of course Jin Guangyao had not managed. No, the one who should have been strong enough, the one who could have saved Nie Mingjue from himself was Lan Xichen, brilliant and strong and talented beyond measure. Lan Xichen had failed, when Nie Huaisang had trusted him with the only thing that mattered in his life.

For a second, Nie Huaisang almost hated Lan Xichen.

Then he remembered that Lan Xichen, after two weeks, was only slowly starting to regain consciousness. He had nearly died, trying to save Nie Mingjue.

Nie Huaisang could have lost them both.

He did, in a manner. There would be no travelling the world together now. Nie Huaisang would never escape this title he had always hated.

This was his life now and until his last day.

A fitting punishment for letting his brother die.

-

Nie Huaisang missed his brother’s funeral, still too weak from his Qi deviation to attend. Jin Guangyao assured him that Nie Mingjue had been honoured in all the ways that could be done, that there hadn’t been one unaffected person in the crowd. He might have been young, he might not have been in power yet, but Nie Mingjue was mourned as deeply as if he had ruled his sect half a century, Jin Guangyao claimed, and he cried as well, missing his friend.

Nie Huaisang did not cry, but he appreciated Jin Guangyao’s tears.

Around the Unclean Realm, the world kept moving. Xue Chengmei was found and brought before Jin Guangshan by Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen. But by then, Chang Ping had already withdrawn his original statements against the young man, and so Xue Chengmei was declared innocent of what had happened. A little while later, the temple to which Song Zichen had belonged was slaughtered. Neither Song Zichen nor Xiao Xingchen were heard of again after this. Xue Chengmei went back to terrorising the people of Lanling, knowing he had the full power of the Jin sect protecting him. When Chang Ping was tortured to death by an unknown assailant, no one dared say a word.

Not openly, any way.

Early on, right after Xue Chengmei’s arrest, some of the smaller sects had tried to see if Nie Huaisang would demand justice, the way his brother had once promised to do. But he was not Nie Mingjue, nor would he ever be. They could all tear one another apart, Nie Huaisang would not have moved a finger, for or against anyone, as long as his brother’s sect was left alone.

The world outside the borders of Qinghe Nie’s territory could have burned and Nie Huaisang wouldn’t even have cared enough to watch.

He saw nobody from outside his sect, delegating matters that required interactions with strangers to whoever he hated less that day.

He saw nobody, save Jin Guangyao.

At first, it was a twisted need to understand that pushed Nie Huaisang to tolerate him when he couldn’t bear to see anyone. He made Jin Guangyao retell the death of his brother again and again, desperate to figure out all the ways he could have been saved, if only they had known what to expect. Jin Guangyao told the story ten, twenty, thirty times before he broke one day and begged Nie Huaisang to stop asking him.

Nie Huaisang, who felt nothing anymore, managed to find some pity for that young man who had seen a friend die.

He stopped asking for that story.

It did not matter anyway, because soon after, Jin Guangyao stopped coming so often.

Jin Guangshan had died, and his only adult son inherited his title.

Nie Huaisang did not attend that funeral either. On his next visit, Jin Guangyao told him that it had caused great gossip, but that he had taken his old friend’s defence as well as he could.

“I understand your loss, even if they don’t,” he said.

If Nie Huaisang had still known how to feel, he would have laughed. Jin Guangyao did not understand, not really. Nobody could. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.

The world was moving on, but Nie Huaisang couldn’t.

It did not matter to him when Xue Chengmei was finally executed for his crimes. It did not matter when Jin Guangyao was named Chief Cultivator at a Discussion Conference that Nie Huaisang refused to attend.

Nothing mattered.

Without Nie Mingjue in it, the world wasn’t worth anything.

-

A few days before the anniversary of the worst day in Nie Huaisang’s life, Lan Xichen came to the Unclean Realm, asking to see its sect leader.

Nie Huaisang thought of refusing.

He should have refused.

After nearly a year without any emotions, Nie Huaisang broke into tears at the sight of the man with whom he had thought of spending the rest of his life, a man he hadn’t seen once since that fateful morning where he’d been lying on the ground next to Nie Mingjue. At least, he had received Lan Xichen in his private quarters rather than the throne room. At least nobody saw him cry the way he hadn’t been able to all this time. Nobody could judge him when he fell into Lan Xichen’s arms to sob.

Lan Xichen stumbled under his weight but held him close.

“I have come to talk about something,” Lan Xichen explained, pulling him toward a sofa and making both of them sit there. “You will not like hearing it anymore than I will like saying it. And you must promise you won’t interrupt me until I’m done speaking. Can you do that, Huaisang-ge?”

His head tucked against Lan Xichen’s neck, Nie Huaisang weakly nodded.

“It’s about that Night Hunt we went on,” Lan Xichen explained as he took Nie Huaisang’s hands in his own. Of course it was. What subjects were there left to talk about, after everything else had been taken from them? “I’m sure Jin Guangyao must have told you most of it already. For a long while, I couldn’t remember much myself. I didn’t really want to remember. But I was bedridden so long, I didn’t have much else to do except think about it. And the more I thought about it, the odder it was.”

He paused, his hands squeezing Nie Huaisang’s.

“First, there was that fog. Nobody had warned us against that, and the area wasn’t the sort of place where fog just happens so suddenly. It could have been the demon tiger, but none of the texts I had read before or since mention such a thing. And it was such thick fog too. At the time, I was too worried about Mingjue and Jin Guangyao to think too much about it, but I believe there was something very odd about that fog, and it should have alerted me. Especially after I heard that guqin.”

“What?”

“You promised you’d let me talk without interrupting,” Lan Xichen gently reminded Nie Huaisang. “Please, if you distract me, I’ll forget something.”

Nie Huaisang nodded, and Lan Xichen resumed.

“I thought I was hallucinating at first,” he explained. “No ordinary person would have been playing music in a place like this, at a time like that. It had to be a cultivator then. But aside from the Lans, nobody uses music on Night Hunts. Well, not until recently. I will get back to that,” Lan Xichen promised, his voice turning fierce for a brief moment. “On that day, I was just curious. I decided to follow the music. It was a very odd melody, you know. I didn’t like it at all. It made me feel like something was clawing at the inside of my skull, especially to upset me. The closer I got, the angrier I felt, like I might just… just grab something fragile and break it simply so it’d be broken. But I had lost my friends, and there was nothing except the fog, so I continued walking toward the music. And that’s how I found Mingjue.”

He shivered at the memory, while Nie Huaisang closed his eyes. Hearing that story from Lan Xichen felt different from when it had been Jin Guangyao telling it. Nie Huaisang wanted it to stop. He wanted Lan Xichen to go away and leave him to his grief.

But he had promised, and so he listened.

“The fog wasn’t so thick there,” Lan Xichen remembered. “The first thing I saw was a tiger, enormous. Dead. And next to it, there was Nie Mingjue, crying blood and with his hands on his ears. The music was so strong there. Not without reason. The person playing the guqin was there, not far behind Jin Guangyao. I didn’t really manage to see his face, but I’m almost sure it was a man, one dressed in white. But when I tried to get closer, Jin Guangyao saw me and shouted my name, and that other man ran away with his music. Even back then I wanted to ask Jin Guangyao about it, but Nie Mingjue too noticed me and he…”

Lan Xichen paused again, longer this time. When he spoke again, his voice cracked.

“He tried to kill me. Something was wrong with him, Huaisang-ge. They’d done something to him and he wasn’t himself, and he tried to kill me. I swear I only defended myself, I swear I didn’t hurt him! I tried to just escape, but he was relentless! And I was so upset and I… I don’t remember so well what happened then. I was so upset, I felt like I could still hear that awful melody and it made me so… but I didn’t attack him, I swear I didn’t attack him!”

“Of course you didn’t,” Nie Huaisang whispered. “You could never do that.”

Lan Xichen shivered.

“I don’t really know what happened after that. He hit my head I think. Or maybe I just passed out. He was still alive when I passed out. And then… then I don’t know. I just remember waking up in the Unclean Realm, and not remembering anything. Not at first. Not until my uncle and brother took me back home, and I started getting better. And they’d told me what had happened, what Jin Guangyao told them, but it didn’t quite fit with what I remembered. I didn’t know what to think at all. But I knew that I couldn’t stop thinking about that melody. It wouldn’t leave me alone, I heard it even in my sleep. So I told my uncle, of course. I hummed the song for him, in case he knew it.”

He sighed, deeply.

“He didn’t. Not… not quite. Not really. He said it was familiar, like he might have encountered it, but he was almost certain he’d never actually heard it played. He said it sounded wrong, like something that should never be played for anyone. He said I should try to forget about it, but I couldn’t. Meditation didn’t help. Cleansing didn’t help. Nothing worked, I always had it on the back of my mind, driving me almost crazy. So as soon as I was well enough, I decided to investigate a little. And I found… I found something. Not quite what I was looking for, but not quite not it. If that makes sense?”

His eyes still closed, Nie Huaisang nodded against the younger man’s neck. It made sense, as much as anything made sense anymore.

“I found it in the restricted section of our library,” Lan Xichen explained, his hands almost painfully tight on Nie Huaisang’s. “A collection of dangerous songs from abroad. None of them was exactly the one I had heard, but a few seemed to be awfully close to it. I thought it was very curious. I found it even more curious when I realised that one page had been very carefully removed. It really was odd, because these songs… they’re very bad songs, Huaisang-ge. Songs to kill, songs to block a person’s energy… worse things still. And I could still hear that song, all the time, and those other ones were right there before me, with clear instructions on how to perform them to get their full effect, so I thought I’d try to see what my song was supposed to do. And I did that. I figured out how it was meant to be played, and I tried it on myself.”

“No!” Nie Huaisang gasped, tearing himself from Lan Xichen.

“Yes,” Lan Xichen confirmed with a weak smile. “It was a few months ago. I had just started to recover from that Night Hunt, and I caused myself to have a Qi deviation. Uncle was furious at me, after. He called me reckless when I was well enough to explain what I’d done. He didn’t like too much that I almost died twice in less than a year.”

Nie Huaisang stared at him.

Jin Guangyao, during one of his visits, had mentioned that Lan Xichen’s recovery didn’t seem to be going as well as might have been hoped, that he hadn’t been able to see him when he had gone to the Cloud Recesses a little after becoming sect leader.

“You little fool!” Nie Huaisang hissed.

“I had to know,” Lan Xichen retorted, taking Nie Huaisang’s hands again. “And I could not have tried that song on another person, it would just have been too cruel. Because it is a very awful song, Huaisang-ge,” he added, his expression turning dark. “I still hear it to this day. And I think I was very lucky on that Night Hunt. I think the person who played it wasn’t skilled enough, or else I too would have had a Qi deviation back there. But I was too far to feel the full effect, while Mingjue was right there.”

“No.”

“I couldn’t have invented that song,” Lan Xichen calmly insisted. “I’m not that creative. And isn’t it interesting that Jin Guangyao never mentioned it, nor the man I saw with him? But he did say that he met with some people from Moling Su after, and hasn’t he told everyone how they were the heroes, how they saved us? It’s really funny, you know. Because Moling Su is a very young sect of course, and Su Minshan, who founded it, used to be one of our disciples, and now they’re the only other sect to really use musical cultivation.”

“No,” Nie Huaisang roared, jumping to his feet.

Lan Xichen threw him a look so full of sympathy it hurt.

“I told you that you wouldn’t like what I had to say, Huaisang-ge. But I’ve said it anyway. Now it’s up to you if you believe me or not.”

“A-Yao wouldn’t!” Nie Huaisang cried out. “He was Mingjue’s friend, his sworn brother! He was… He is…”

“He was always so dedicated to his father,” Lan Xichen pointed out, hands on his knees, still looking at Nie Huaisang with that same unbearable pity. “You’re the one who told me that Jin Guangyao had made his choice, do you remember? And Mingjue… Mingjue was causing such problems for Jin zongzhu. Everyone was saying that if Jin zongzhu really tried to push for his idea of a Chief Cultivator, it was almost certain that Mingjue would be chosen instead of him. I know I’ve heard a few people say they were just opposing the idea until Mingjue became sect leader, and then they would agree and vote for him.”

“No.”

No, but yes, Nie Huaisang realised, because he’d had that exact thought as well, and he’d been stupid enough to gloat at the idea of his little brother rising so fast, so high. He had known that Nie Mingjue was a category above all other men, it had always been an evidence to him, even when his brother had been little, and he had been excited to see what would become of him. It had not occurred to him that there would be people who would burn a treasure if they couldn’t possess it.

No, but Nie Mingjue had tried to warn him again and again that Jin Guangyao couldn’t be trusted. And Nie Huaisang, confident in his capacity to see right through people, had thought he understood Jin Guangyao in a way his brother didn’t. He had thought that between children of whores, in a world that couldn’t forgive such a crime, they would never turn against each other. He had thought that Jin Guangyao understood how much Nie Mingjue mattered to him, how for a decade he had never done anything without thinking how it would affect Nie Mingjue.

And perhaps Jin Guangyao did understand that, a little too well in fact.

They must have laughed, Jin Guangshan and him, when their plans had been so successful, taking the Nie sect out of the game entirely now that Nie Mingjue was gone and Nie Huaisang broken.

“I trusted him,” Nie Huaisang hissed.

“I know,” Lan Xichen said. “And I… Huaisang-ge, I am so sorry. I know I am beyond forgiveness for the part I played in this, but…”

“Your part?”

Lan Xichen smiled sadly, and rose from the sofa.

“This wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t tried so hard to make them be friends again. If I hadn’t suggested this Night Hunt… then Mingjue would still be alive, wouldn’t he? But I gave Jin Guangyao the occasion, and I let him separate us, I wasn’t there when he hurt Mingjue so badly and…”

He paused, wiping tears he couldn’t stop.

“I’m sorry, Huaisang-ge,” he whispered. “I know this is my fault. I shouldn’t have pushed so hard for it. I just wanted my friends to get along! And now this happened and… but he won’t get away with it! I swear, Huaisang-ge, I swear I won’t let him get away with it. He killed my friend, my sworn brother, I can’t let him get away with it.”

Nie Huaisang stared at him, this young man he used to love, back when he still felt emotions. This young man he still loved, though it would have been easier not to.

Jin Guangyao hadn’t killed him, but what he had done to him was hardly any better. To use his kindness and good will to plot the murder of Lan Xichen’s oldest friend, to make him feel responsible for this horror…

“He will pay,” Nie Huaisang agreed, coming closer to Lan Xichen to pull him in his arms. “He will pay for everything.”

For Nie Mingjue. For Lan Xichen. For all those who had suffered for his ambition.

Jin Guangyao would pay, even if Nie Huaisang had to set the world on fire to get there.

[vicarfelix]

Honest Intentions

__

Vicar Max x Fem. Reader

Warnings: Language. Smut.

A/N: GOD okay so I wrote this awhile ago and I cannot write smut to save my life. I suck so bad at it, I can’t ever seem to make it long enough, but this was so angsty good that I just couldn’t not post it.

Word Count: 2,155

“The question is, after all this, do you still trust me?”

__

If she had been in a cartoon, she was sure there would have been a gray, swirling cloud above her head to display her irritation. She couldn’t believe that he had lied to her. A lie. A betrayal of truth. A fib. A dishonest statement. And for what? Just to ensure his chances of her taking him to see some scholar that he didn’t even like? What was the point of that?

She never expected respect from her crew. She didn’t expect it from anybody. However, when she had earned the respect from someone, she expected full honesty in return. This was a total blow to her respect as a captain and trust as a girlfriend. She was unbelievably angry at him, confused even as of to why he wasn’t upfront about his desires. Truthfully, she was really hurt.

Max had lied in order to get her to take him to see Reginald. A former colleague of sorts of his that he needed to see to have his book translated from French. It wasn’t until they found Reginald that it became clear as of to how they even ended up there. Max claimed he couldn’t risk her not bringing him there to find him. He immediately sensed that she was upset. She had every right to be. The sickness in his stomach as a result of the guilt was a testament of that. She had convinced him to leave Reginald Chaney in one piece, refusing to let him lay a finger on him. They got what they needed out of him and left.

The silent trek back to the ship was seemingly everlasting. Her footsteps were heavy on the grounds of the Monarch wilderness as they returned back from Fallbrook. She needed some time to calm down and cool off before speaking to anyone. She was of no use to anybody being this upset. Last thing she wanted was to take her anger out of someone who didn’t deserve it. Max followed a bit further behind than usual, giving her as much space as possible without getting separated. No one said a word on the journey back to The Unreliable. Even Ellie didn’t even try to poke fun at the vicar who would be sleeping in his own quarters for now. It wasn't Max's reaction she was afraid of. It was the captain's.

They finally arrived at the ship long after nightfall, stars dotting the dark night sky. They would be spending the evening in route to Groundbreaker to get supplies and other materials in the morning. She entered the ship first, ADA greeting the returning space adventurers as always.

“Welcome back, Captain.”

She usually smiled in relief upon hearing her voice that signaled a safe return, but she was in no smiling mood. Everybody else had gone to their bunks for the night, which prompted Ellie to go as well. That left the captain and Max in the bay of the ship. The only sounds were the clanks and tinkers as she put away her belongings into the lockers. She couldn’t look at him. She was afraid that she just might lose it. He came up next to her, his voice low and quiet;

“Captain, I-”

“I don’t want to talk.”

He sighed. He wasn’t surprised at her response. He couldn’t figure out if she was speaking to him as his boss or his girlfriend...or both. She whisked away from the lockers and headed to the stairs leading up to her quarters. She just wanted to be alone for a little while and give this some serious thought. She planned on discussing everything with him in the morning. However she realized this was an impossible wish when he followed suit, desperate to get his message across to her;

“If nothing else, please know that I am sorry,” He pleaded, entering after his lover into her room; “I’m aware that I have put a lot of unnecessary stress on you today.”

She scoffed and shook her head incredulously. He didn’t seem to understand how the trust she had put in him had been seriously violated. That’s what made her more upset than anything. It was clear that he wasn’t leaving until this issue was resolved. So, she went off.

“You lied to me, Max. For personal gain,” she hissed; “I don’t like being lied to you.”

She was leaning against the frame of her bed, arms folded over her chest as Max was leaning against her desk. Her demeanor was tense and cold...not a pretty sight to see.

“I know. If it’s any consolation, I lied before I began to care for you...before I loved you. It wasn’t an attempt to break your faith in me.” He admitted.

A surge of energy went to her head, her cheeks heating with rage;

“That doesn’t make it any better. So, you didn’t lie to me as your lover? Fine. You still lied to me as your captain,” She snarled; “At the end of the day, Max, I am still your captain.”

He didn’t want to fight with her He didn’t want her to be angry at him. All he could do was continue to express his apology and hope she'd forgive him. He wasn’t lying when he said he cared about her. About how he loved her. The two of them had each said it once before, so she had to admit it made her heart beat a little faster hearing him say it again.

With this being said, he still had a rampant temper. Regardless of any situation, he didn’t like being talked to this way. He got defensive when others used an unpleasant tone with him. His pleading for forgiveness was beginning to mix with a sear of anger bubbling up in him.

“You are my captain, you will never witness me denying that. I don’t know what you wish for me to do other than tell you, honestly, that I’m sorry.” He replied, his voice getting rather scary; “But might I add that you weren’t so fucking honest at first either.”

All the blood in her body seemed to rush to her face and rapidly back down to her feet. She knew what he was talking about. The fact that the crew went months thinking she was actually Alex Hawthorne when she actually wasn’t. She hadn’t been upfront in the beginning and had lied about her identity. She would always feel a sense of culpability for that.

“I know that. I know that I didn’t tell anyone who I really was, but that was for the sake of my safety as well as everyone else’s. I lied because I had to,” She spat; “You lied for personal reasons. You lied to intentionally distress me and deceive me into doing something for you.”

He rolled his eyes dramatically and the veins in his arms were prevalent as he gripped the edge of the desk. He now felt like she was blowing this out of proportion.

“I wasn’t intentionally trying to hurt you. I would never do that,” He responded; “I lied because I didn’t think you’d take me all over Halcyon just to find some man that might have the answers I was looking for.”

She rubbed her temples with her fingers, feeling as if this conversation was going absolutely nowhere;

“That’s another thing,” She fired off; “What’s going to happen when we get to Scylla and the book gets translated? Will I no longer be of any use to you? Is this going to be over once you find what you're looking for?"

In an instant, his anger lifted and his heart seemed to stop at her words. She watched as a normal color returned to his face. His narrowed eyes and furrowed brows morphing into a softer, borderline concerned look. He stood from the desk and took the half step down from the desk to where she was standing. If there was one thing Vicar Max would never do, it would be that he would never lie about the way he felt about someone.

“Captain, darling, I wouldn’t ever lead you on that way. For any reason whatsoever.” He breathed out gently.

His sudden change in expression ultimately calmed her down as well. She sighed heavily as her judgement cleared. She knew why he really had lied. It wasn't to upset anyone. He had spent his whole life taking roads trying to find answers that ultimately led to a dead end. He was frustrated and disappointed. She could relate to that.

“I just want you to trust me. I want to trust you,” You admitted; “I would’ve taken you to him regardless of who he was. You didn’t have to lie.”

His hands cupped her face, she instinctively cocked her head to further rest her face in his hold.

“I trust you. I always have. I never intended for you to doubt how I feel, because I have been nothing but honest about it. I care about you and I love you.” He confessed; “The question is, after all this, do you still trust me?”

She did. 100% she trusted him. It would probably take a hell of a lot more than him lying about some sketchy prison dude to completely break her faith in him. However, she felt her devious side begin to bubble to the surface. She could totally use this situation to her advantage. Maybe she could get a little bit of a rise out of him in a positive way.

“I don’t know,” She said in an overly teasing tone; “I think a certain vicar is going to have to redeem himself somehow...”

His pupils dilated and his hands that had been by his sides were now slowly fumbling with the button and zipper on her pants.

“Is that so?” He purred in his captain’s ear; “I think I’ve got some ideas.”

In a matter of seconds, she was sprawled on the bed, pants discarded, and his kisses were hot on her neck. She moaned deliciously as his right middle and ring finger dragged across her heating sex, his left hand pinning her arms above her head

“Max...” She breathed out.

Oh, he loved when she said his name. It sent a fiery sensation all through his body. His strong, independent captain begging for him and only him. He was the only person who ever got to see her this way. She managed to break one of her hands free, reaching to unbuckle his own pants. However, he withdrew his hand and stopped her;

“This is all about you, Captain.” He growled.

His lips detached from her skin, he let go of her other arm as well and placed him face just in front of her. Her legs were draped over his shoulders as his tongue licked a heavy stripe and her desperate whimper filled the room. He sucked and kissed as one of her hands was steady on his head to prohibit him from going too far, while the other was pressed against the headboard behind her. It felt like electricity was crackling all through her body as he mercilessly pleasured her.

“Oh, fuck...you’ve got quite the mouth for a preacher,” She tried to laugh, but it came out as another moan.

Obviously this wasn't the first time she had ever been in this situation with him. But it still surprised her every time.

His chuckle vibrated against you, his voice muffled slightly;

“You better fucking believe it.”

He knew her backwards and forwards, which why he put his arm over her waist to keep her from squirming too much. He smirked as he felt her muscles contract against his hold. It was a damn hot sight to see. His face buried between her legs, his tongue and lips working wonders on the woman he adored so much. Normally, he’d hold off on letting her come undone. He’d slow his movements to tantalize her and make her beg. But she deserved what she wanted after today.

“Max, please...” She said feeling her legs begin to shake.

“I’ve got you, love.” He spoke.

Her head fell back onto the pillow as a flash of white covered her vision. Her legs tightened on his shoulders as she crashed over her high. He continued to suck her and work her through it. His name fell from her lips once more as she felt yourself settling back to normal. He grinned once her breathing attempted to slow, he returned to her side. She supposed that she owed him now, but that’d come later.

“Okay, yeah. I forgive you.” She huffed out once her heart slowed.

He laughed genuinely, falling onto the mattress and pulling her close. He was relieved that she was here with him now and that she hadn’t kicked him off her ship. He knew one thing for sure.

He would never lie to her again.

[bi-naesala]

What now?

Every corner of Tellius is in celebration: the war’s over and everyone has been freed. Amidst all this happiness, Pelleas feels like he’s sticking out like a sore thumb.

(Also on AO3)

Every corner of Tellius is in celebration: the war’s over and everyone has been freed.

Amidst all this happiness, Pelleas feels like he’s sticking out like a sore thumb. Although he’s happy, overjoyed even, about the turn things have taken - Daein is free to finally thrive - there are too many things in his head that prevent him from taking part to the festivities. That’s why he’s decided to just observe things from afar, from the safe haven that Nevassa’s castle’s balcony offers him. He knows that he should be down with the others, making his presence known, but isn’t it pointless? It’s not like he’s the one Daein’s people want to see.

 Soon they’ll have to think about the reconstruction efforts they had to abandon in favor of waging war against the Laguz Alliance.

Daein can thrive now, sure, but it’s still a recovering nation. It will take time and effort before things begin to actually change for the better.

Is it even his duty anymore to think about this? He doesn’t know. After finding out about his true origins, or better the falseness of what Izuka had told him about them - he still doesn’t know where he comes from in the end - he’s taken a decision, a decision that he still has to make everyone aware of.

He’s biding his time for something that he should make known immediately, he knows it, but he can’t help it. The truth is that he’s afraid, but not about becoming a nobody again; that, actually, will be the best part - Pelleas has never been good with attentions, and being king has put him right in the middle of them quite often.

What he’s truly afraid of is losing the people he’s grown close to during his time as king. Maybe he didn’t have their respect at first - for some, he probably still doesn’t - but he’s been blessed by their friendship nonetheless. Would they be mad for the fact that he - although unwillingly - has lied to them? Will they have a lower opinion of him?

As soon as he brought the news to lady Almedha, they’ve been avoiding each other. It’s necessary, but it still hurts, and the selfish part of Pelleas doesn’t want this to happen with his friends as well, especially with…

“King Pelleas!”

Speaking of the devil.

When Pelleas turns around, he sees her, Micaiah, who’s walking towards him.

“King Pelleas, what are you doing here, all alone?”

“I…” Think, Pelleas, think. “I just wanted a moment for myself. It was beginning to get overwhelming down there.”

Well, it’s not a complete lie.

At those words, Micaiah nods.

“Yes, I can understand that. However, I haven’t seen you in a while,” she says then. “I can feel everyone’s happiness except for yours. Is something troubling you?”

“I, well…”

 Pelleas goes quiet, overwhelmed by guilt.

With what face is he supposed to unload his problems onto Micaiah? Doesn’t she deserve some rest from all the trouble he constantly causes her? Even now she could be celebrating with everybody else, but instead she’s here, looking after him. Although…

This might be the best occasion to finally reveal his secret. If he does it now, Micaiah can easily tell everyone while he disappears; this way he won’t see the disappointment on their faces.

He hesitates just a moment before speaking up again.

“Micaiah, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“What is it?”

“Micaiah… Haven’t you figured it out already?” After all, she should’ve realized it the moment they discovered Almedha isn’t an actual beorc. Thinking about it, it’s curious that, if she has indeed figured it out, she hasn’t spoken about it at all.

“Figured out what?” Micaiah asks, which prompts Pelleas to sigh. He hoped that he could coax her into taking the initiative, but he supposes he’ll have to be brave and do it himself.

“Micaiah, I’m not branded. I can’t be Ashnard’s son…”

 At those words, Micaiah goes quiet.

“I know,” she admits eventually, gaze low.

“Then why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because Daein doesn’t need another civil war,” she replies. “It doesn’t matter that you aren’t Ashnard’s actual son. You’re a good man, Pelleas, and that’s what Daein needs--”

“No, Micaiah, it’s not,” Pelleas interrupts her, a bitter smile on his face. “Although I don’t share your view about myself, of one thing I’m certain: I might be a ‘good man’, as you said, but that doesn’t mean I’m a good king.”

 Silence reigns supreme again. The sounds from the celebrations feel like they’re distant miles away; it’s impossible for them to penetrate through this quiet corner.

It’s freezing cold, though it’s hard to tell if it’s because of Daein’s usual weather or the atmosphere between Pelleas and Micaiah.

 “You know what I’m about to ask you, aren’t you?” Pelleas whispers; it’s like his voice refuses to come out of his mouth.

It seems that Micaiah shares the same problem, because she just wordlessly nods, with a saddened look in her eyes.

This isn’t the first time Pelleas asks something of her, something of capital importance. It isn’t the first time he asks her to make a sacrifice.

“Will you do it? Will you take my place?”

“We should ask Daein’s people if that’s what they want, before.”

At that, Pelleas laughs. He hates that he must be sounding so mean now, but…

“Micaiah, you’re deluding yourself if you think that this isn’t exactly what they want,” he says once he calms down. “That’s why I want to step down from the throne. I know I’m not what Daein needs and I’d rather lose my station than bring the nation I love so much to ruin with my ineptitude.”

“And where would you go, then?” Micaiah asks. “If you leave the court, what will you do?”

That’s a hard question for Pelleas, something he still hasn’t figured an answer to.

“Someone might be in need of my magical talents, somewhere,” he says then. “I’ve managed to survive until now, I’m sure I’ll figure out something.”

 “… Alright, I’ll do it.”

“Micaiah, I’m so thankf--”

“But on one condition.”

Micaiah’s tone is firm. It’s obvious that whatever this is about, it’s something that must matter a great deal to her.

“Of course, Micaiah. Anything you want.”

“You have to stay here.”

 … This is unexpected.

“Pardon?” Pelleas asks. Surely he must’ve heard wrong.

“Think about it: you’re well acquainted with the rest of Tellius’ nobility, right? You’d make a perfect diplomat,” Micaiah explains. “Besides…”

She stretches her hands, taking Pelleas’; despite the frigid weather, they’re so warm to the touch. For a moment, Pelleas thinks he’s dreaming: it feels too surreal that Micaiah would touch him this openly.

“It wouldn’t feel right to me to abandon you after all you’ve done.”

“After all the bad things I’ve done,” Pelleas corrects her.

Micaiah sighs at those words, but this time she chooses not to argue over this, knowing that it would lead to nowhere.

“Are you accepting the condition or not?” she presses.

“I…”

Does Pelleas want to stay? Would he handle it well? It’s hard to tell, though the feeling of someone wanting him to stay, wanting him to be close…

“If this is what you wish.”

The smile that appears on Micaiah’s face at those words immediately makes every problem his staying will bring worth it.

“Thank you, Pelleas. I really mean it.”

He still isn’t sure why she would want him to stick around, but he’s not going to lie: it feels good to be wanted. In all his life, he never got to experience something like this. On one hand it’s overwhelming, since it brings a lot of pressure about being good enough to be deserving of this, but on the other it makes Pelleas feel a warmth that he’s beginning to get acquainted with only recently.

“Oh, there’s no need, Micaiah. Actually, I should be the one thanking you, for…” For wanting me to stay. “… For taking this weight off my shoulders.”

 Maybe one day he’ll be brave enough to confess his feelings for her, or maybe he’ll keep them secluded inside, who knows.

All that matters now is that Micaiah is still holding his hands; they’re still so warm. Pelleas squeezes them, imprinting this sensation in his mind.

He’s not going to forget it any time soon.

  Surprisingly, or unsurprisingly depending on the point of view, the process of stepping down the throne, only for Micaiah to be crowned in Pelleas’ stead, is easier and faster than anticipated. Of course nobody tried to object to this decision, except for Sothe who feared that Micaiah was sacrificing herself again, though even he had to admit, in the end, that this was the best choice. Besides, it’s not like Micaiah doesn’t want this at all: she loves Daein dearly - it’s her home - and she would do anything in her power to help its people.

What surprises Pelleas the most is that they’re still accepting of him even after revealing the truth about his heritage. It doesn’t matter that he isn’t actually Ashnard’s son, he’s part of the group now. They’re friends, and friends don’t abandon each other. Thinking about it now, it was dumb of him to worry, but fear is a hard emotion to control, he knows it well, especially when you have something to lose, and this time he really had everything to lose.

  Pelleas is present during the crowing ceremony, as per Micaiah’s request. He sees it through the end despite the overwhelming urge to disappear he feels from time to time - the people of Daein might have eyes only for their new queen, but a few gazes move towards him more often than not.

Despite everything he can’t help but to smile as his eyes lay upon Micaiah; once they do, everything else disappears from his mind, leaving place only for the growing warmth inside his chest.

Micaiah looks like she was born to be a queen: the regal garbs suit her in a way they never suited Pelleas. She looks beautiful, like a goddess - making such thoughts feels less sacrilegious now.

 When she begins talking, thanking the people of Daein for their support, Pelleas listens attentively to the melodious sound of her voice - even when she speaks it sounds like she’s singing - but he’s ashamed to admit that he’s so taken by this that he barely catches her words. He hears them but doesn’t quite catch their meaning.

It's truly impressive how she doesn’t falter even once in her speech, while he did multiple times during his. If anyone still had any doubts about Pelleas’ decision to cede the crown to her - not that anyone actually harbors such feelings - hearing the earnest way in which Micaiah speaks about restoring the country must have dissipated them entirely.

Everyone hangs from her lips, even the most experienced rules - who of course have been invited to the ceremony - and Pelleas can see them well, since they’ve decided that he’d have to sit with all of them, like he still amounts something now.

It’s a testament to Micaiah’s talent, but Pelleas also suspects that it’s her love for her people what drives everyone to listen to her.

The more he looks at her, the more he’s certain of the fact that he’s made the right decision.

 He claps with everyone at the end of her speech.

Micaiah scans the crowd, as if she’s looking for someone in particular. She must’ve been searching for Pelleas, because as soon are her gaze lands on him and their eyes meet, she smiles at him. Not that she wasn’t smiling before, but her expression is now warmer; who knows, though, it might be just Pelleas seeing more into it than he should. He can’t help but to return her smile, although more shyly, but it’s enough to make her gaze melt.

It’s nothing more than a fleeting moment, but its impression weighs heavily on Pelleas’ mind, just like the sensation of Micaiah’s hands holding his.

Even once she looks away, he still feels the intensity of her gaze upon him.

  A huge ceremony to celebrate the new queen couldn’t be denied to Daein’s people. Nevassa’s castle looks less ominous with all the festive lights, chatter and music; it looks like another place entirely.

Pelleas finds himself drawn to the balcony again. It’s quieter there and less crowded, exactly what he needs to catch his breath. Not that he’s having a bad time, but he still needs a moment to himself… That is, if only he hadn’t heard the sound of steps approaching him.

When he turns around, however, he can’t help but to smile.

“Oh, here you are again,” he greets Micaiah as she approaches him. She chuckles.

“Seems like we’re fated to meet here,” she says, which makes Pelleas chuckle as well, though he can’t help the heat that begins to spread on his face at those words. He hopes she doesn’t notice.

“Looks like it,” he says then. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m not going to lie, it’s pretty nerve-wracking,” Micaiah admits. “You understand, don’t you?”

To have the weight of an entire country thrust upon one’s shoulders? Yes, Pelleas is quite familiar with that.

“I’m sure you’ll do a much better job than me,” he reassures her.

“Don’t say that…” she mutters in reply, but the subject gets dropped immediately.

 Besides, there’s something else Pelleas feels the need to express now:

“Micaiah, I can’t thank you enough for allowing me to remain here. I… I wouldn’t…”

How is he supposed to express the myriad of emotions he’s feeling? How is he supposed to tell her just how attached he’s grown to this place and its people, how lost he would’ve felt if he was to be alone again, and especially how much it means that she was the one who asked him to remain?

Luckily for him, Micaiah seems to understand what he wants to say without the need for him to finish that sentence, though there’s something she’d like to add.

“I’m afraid the reason behind that request is more selfish than you deserve,” she admits, looking at him apologetically.

“What do you mean?”

“Pelleas, I…” Micaiah hesitates, just for a moment. “I couldn’t bear the thought of you disappearing somewhere. I need you here.”

The implications of those words don’t go lost to Pelleas, though he can’t help a certain surprise at the realization.

“Micaiah! Does this mean that you too…”

“Yes, and for quite a while now,” she admits. “I’m sorry about keeping it hidden from you for so long, but with all that happened I never felt like it was a good time for that kind of confession.”

Another feeling Pelleas understands perfectly, because that’s one of the many reasons why he always stopped himself before he could do anything to express what he harbors for her, but now there’s no need to keep it all hidden inside, right?

 Still…

“What do we do now?”

It’s a fair question, one to which Pelleas doesn’t have the answer, so he hopes that Micaiah will guide him through it. It all seems so complicated and easy at the same time, not to mention that fact that Micaiah’s queen now and he’s a nobody again.

“I’m not sure,” she says, however, shattering Pelleas’ hopes. Despite everything, however, there’s a smile on her face. “But we can always find out, right?”

“…Yes, I would like that.”

 Micaiah takes a few steps back, only to offer him her hand.

“In the meantime, would you be so kind as to grant me the honor of a dance?” she asks.

Despite being taken slightly aback by such a request, Pelleas can’t help but to chuckle as he takes Micaiah’s hand, letting her guide him back inside.

“It would be an honor, my queen.”

[geeksandkinks]

Bucky Barnes x Reader

One Shot Word Count: 2292 Warnings: PTSD and a soft Bucky boy

A/N: Established friends. Bucky dealing with some PTSD coming home from a mission just needing some fluff. Which is different for me to write so feedback is cool.

Bucky was quiet and that was nothing out of the ordinary, especially after a mission. This one had some close calls but we all made it out alive, minimal damage and that was a success to you. You knew he was struggling regardless though, he didn’t hide it well or maybe you just knew him well enough now. You gave him some time though. That's what everyone seemed to need when we got back, some time to decompress, shower, get any wounds cleaned up and stitched. Maybe eat and even get some sleep before interacting again.

Everyone respected each other's way of dealing, and for you a deep clean shower and some food was all it took to spark you back up. Feeling like a new person once the dirt and grime and blood was scrubbed off twice. It was quiet on the compound though, figuring everyone else was cooped up in their room and that just gave you the freedom. Getting a pot, filling it with water and waiting for it to boil because after some strenuous activity - carbs. Mac and cheese specifically.

Changing into a long sleeve shirt Bucky lend you when you first got here, something you refused to get rid of and something you wished still smelt like him but not something you’d ever admit. A pair of black shorts under the maroon shirt and some thick wool socks because these super soldiers for some reason never got cold.

A song swirling in your head, the tune coming out in a hum as your hips swayed with it a bit, standing over the pot of water that hasn’t even shown any sign of life yet. Your phone in your hands as you stand in front of it, scrolling through the social media account you’re not supposed to have but it’s under an alias so you figured no harm, no foul, right? Right.

“If you add salt it will boil faster…” His voice breaks the silence of the compound and the song in your head, jumping back and clutching your phone to your chest. “Bucky, Jesus… can you give a girl a notice…” Your heart is pounding in your chest and honestly it doesn’t help that it’s Bucky. He’s usually the most recluse after a mission and he was the last one you expected to break the silence. You heard him though and grab the salt, “Like, how much salt?” You narrow your eyes slightly and he rolls his in return before closing the distance. Cooking wasn’t your forte but you could bake Satan into forgiveness.

Taking the salt from you and you get a catch of his scent, that dumb old spice he uses - it was big around the time he went to the war so maybe it felt familiar. He smelt good regardless and it was only dumb because it was familiar to you now. It was Bucky. It’s what the shirt used to smell like and you glanced at the side of his face as he poured in just a bit of salt and set it down and created some distance. Bucky was - beautiful. The way his damp hair fell, the scruff of his beard still somehow accented his jaw and his lashes hid those blue eyes that held conversations.

You had been with this team for almost a year. Found and brought in by Fury, fighting was all you were good at but as the team worked with you - you found your place, your power and some days were better than others but regardless you had grown. Bucky was a part of that, he made it hard to speak when he looked at you in the beginning but now he just couldn’t shut you up. You had pushed your feelings for him aside, far aside. He had never shown interest in that kind of way and even in close tension times he never made a move. When you asked Natasha about him she just said not to get your hopes up.

“Thanks salt bae.” You give him a smug smile and grab the two boxes of pasta, ripping them open and waiting to see a bubble to throw it in.

“I don’t even want to know…” He mumbles back to your comment, grabbing a glass and getting some water. A navy long sleeve shirt and sweats, somehow still fitting and you’re glad you have bubbles to hunt for. “I can’t believe you still have that shirt.. That was almost a year ago, right?” The glass is brought up to his lips when you look at him, a shrug and a nod before you glance around to make sure he isn’t talking to someone else.

Time wasn’t kind to Bucky and when he asked things like that you knew he was scared. Did he remember, did more time pass, was the mission real or was it someone else's, did he go off on his own, did someone get a hold of him. Some of the questions that flooded his head when it got bad. Some of the questions he had asked you in a moment of panic.

“Yeah, almost a year ago and what can I say, you stretched it out just right.” You froze a bit, did that sound sexual, would Bucky get it as that? You cheeks flush slightly but he doesn’t catch on and you breathe.

A short chuckle through his nose, “And we were gone for 26 days this time?” His jaw flexed with the question when you looked over at him. You take the second to pour the pasta in before taking the few steps to Bucky, searching his eyes but not touching him as difficult as that was. “26 exactly, Buck… You were there for all of them. You didn’t leave our sides. I promise.” Your voice soft and Bucky brought this side out of you that you didn’t know you had. Most of your life was spent being harsh and using sarcasm as a coping mechanism. Alone.

This was the first sense of a family in years and that was another reason you pushed your feelings aside, you couldn't put this in jeopardy.

He presses his lips in a line and takes another drink to finish off the glass, “Right.. Yeah, thanks..” There was still doubt in his eyes but all you could do was tell him the truth that he was there, he’d have to figure the rest out on his own. As much as you wished he would lean on someone even if it wasn’t you.

Your fingers twitched to just run a hand down his arm but you resisted and went back to the pot boiling now. Stirring it with a butter knife because finding the right utensil was too difficult right now, the look in Bucky's eyes still dwelling. A red plastic ladle spoon coming over your shoulder and you let out a huff taking it and putting the knife on the counter. “Would you like to take over, Chef Barnes?” Glancing over your shoulder with a smirk. “If you want it to be edible then I probably should.” Bucky had lots of hidden talents and cooking was one of them even though he made a lot of soups - they were delicious. Mocking him with an eye roll you give up your position and the ladle. “It’s mac and cheese, don’t let it go to you head.” Your arms crossed under your chest as you watch like it's some kind of lesson now or maybe it just gave an excuse to see if he was okay.

“It’s macaroni and cheese and you’d still find a way to ruin it.” His lips tug at the corner and it's enough to force a full one across your lips. Lighthearted Bucky was hard to come by but god it was beautiful and rare, a unicorn almost. You reach over and poke his arm, “I don’t ruin everything… just - things you consume.” You let a soft laugh leave your lips. He gives you a sideways glance and you poke him again, he shakes his head and you pass his arm and get his side where he flinches and there's a glimpse of a full smile that gets a soft laugh out of you. “Someone is ticklish!” You tease and he puts the spoon down in the pot, “I’m not.” He crosses his arms and gives you a warning glance but you can’t help yourself, wiggling your fingers at him like he's a four year old and he steps back. It’s enough of a motion you launch at him and your fingers start digging into his sides and he's laughing. Looking like a fucking god with his hair and he has an open mouth smile and that sweet sound of his laugh. It doesn’t last long though, he has both of your wrists and while the look in his eyes is playful you are quite aware of just how fucked you are.

“Fuck…” He quirks an eyebrow at you and before you can even try to get away he turns you around and wraps both his arms over yours, picking you up off the ground and you’re pleading, “I’m sorry! I won’t tell anyone Bucky, your secret is safe with me! Don’t crush me! Don't tickle me! Please!” You struggle to get free and he finally lets your feet hit the ground a few steps away from the boiling pot and he does his best to keep you trapped with his left, heavy arm while the right digs at your sides and you’re losing. Screaming and laughing and threatening you’re going to pee when he lets you go with a laugh, a genuine laugh coming from Bucky again, you wonder if he knows how breathtaking this view is and you’re staring while you catch your breath, laughing subsiding and he asks, “What?” Catching the way you’re looking at him.

“Nothing, it’s just nice to see you smile.” There's still a soft one on your lips but his falters just a bit and he shrugs. The moment feels lost and there's a pang of guilt that hits you and forces you to act out. Your arms wrap around his neck and you pull him in, its for just a few seconds before you realize and you start to let go but his arms wrap around your lower back. Firm, heavy and keeping you pressed up against him. Sure it wasn’t your first hug but it was only like your third and it felt nice each time. He was warm, solid, Bucky always felt safe even if he was just in plain view things felt safe and you knew you didn’t provide that kind of net to him but you hoped it was something.

“You’ve been here the whole time Bucky, I promise.” This hug was different, the way he had his arms around you and his forehead on your shoulder burying his face, your fingers brush through his hair and move over the tops of his shoulders. There's a muffled sound from him but he doesn’t let himself enjoy it, lifting his head and looking at you, and it says it all as he lets go, turns the stove off and nods to head to bed. He’s right, sleep is needed but how much better would sleep be in his arms - and that's when you’re sure there won’t be much sleep tonight.

And you’re right, time is in slow motion and it’s only been an hour since overcooking noodles and it feels like the sun should be up any minute. Your brain won’t shut off thinking you did the wrong thing, moved too quick, touched too much. It’s not like - and there's a knock.

You’re almost sure it’s going to be Steve from being too loud earlier or to see if you’re going to finish the macaroni so you swing the door open with a sigh but it’s quick caught in your throat when it’s Bucky.

“I- sorry… I wasn’t expecting, are you - is everything okay?” You look around him and then at him, he walks in your room as if opening the door was enough of an invitation. Heading straight for your bed and laying on his back. “I can’t sleep.” This is out of character for Bucky and your expression shows that. He knows that and he closes his eyes with a sigh, talking that way as if not looking at me would make it easier. “I - my mom used to do that. I remember it. Used to run her fingers through my hair when I couldn’t sleep and I -” You get where he’s going and while you want to revel in this moment this is Bucky being vulnerable and it wouldn’t last if it wasn’t acted on. You make your way on your bed, sitting up against the bed frame and pat your thigh. “I don’t mind, Bucky.” Your voice is soft. He head now on your thigh and your fingers scratch at his scalp before running through his hair, silence between the two of you and both your eyes close.

This is far off from you usually having your own guard up for the sake of your feelings and Bucky having the multitude of his from decades of people fucking with him. Everything is broken down right now and that’s dangerous grounds for you because you know in a few hours he will act like this never happened. You swallow down that emotion creeping up and wait for sleep to take over both of you.

[eyesforjade]

Underestimate — Jill Valentine X Carlos Oliveira [Resident Evil 1 and 3]

Summary:

underestimate

verb

1.

direct transitive

not giving due esteem, value or appreciation to; not having a lot of consideration; disdain.

"s. someone's intelligence"

2.

direct transitive

miscalculate, for less.

"s. the demand for a given commodity"

OR

Five times a man underestimated Jill Valentine, and one time one didn't.

Author’s Note: Hey there, this was an idea I had while I was listening to “Boys Will Be Boys” from Dua Lipa. The result made me really happy, and was something I really liked writing, although, I’m very insecure about it, because, I translated to english, but english is not my mother language, hey, I’m Brazilian, just as Carlos in my future AU’s. Well, stay tunned for my other works, and I hope you guys really like this.

Word count: 3841 words.

 Warning: Maybe for my bad english, but besides this, there’s some points where the character’s lines are sexist, and there’s also scenes of shooting in the characters.

Also available on ao3

Δ

i. dick valentine

Jill vaguely remembers having a day with her father, even though he wasn't training her skills. She was a smart girl, and she knew very well what her father did for living, and even though she didn't think it was right, it was the only thing she had, knowing that her mother would never return to her life, especially because of her father.

Dick Valentine has always been very hard, he wanted his daughter to follow in his footsteps, because he knew how much capable she was. But all the pressure to learn drove Jill crazy, and often missed the things she did. At the time, Jill never understood, but now older, she understands that he underestimated her many times, so that she was better at what she did.

And that's why when he saw the opportunity for Jill to join the S.T.A.R.S., it was when he started getting heavier. Days and nights in the clear, a lot of pressure, Jill worked hard that year, got a lot of injuries in the process, but it was from that she managed to achieve more things, Jill learned to live and it was all thanks to him.

But she never denied that it was a heavy childhood. The training was intense, but it taught her things she never forgot, like that day in her teens, when Dick trained her on how to deftly break into a home. “Only fools accept the obvious and go no further; use your brain, Jilly”. That same day, they had a fight, and Jill will never forget her.

 — You can do it, Jilly. — He said that on average at least 30 times a day, and Jill was tired of hearing that, dropping the lockpick gear, she turns irritated to her father.

— If I can do it, why do you keep demeaning me?! — Jill always thinks about what she will say, and that day she was just tired.

— Because I want you to be better! — Hearing that from him, at that moment, was something that ended the training for him. He stood up, dropping her in front of the lock. — Better than me. — Jill spent the rest of the day trying to perfect her skills, she didn't want her father to have to talk to her like that. Never.

 Δ ii. brian irons

 It was another normal morning at R.P.D., everything was very calm. All corridors were with as little noise as possible, except for the whispers about the special ceremony that the S.T.A.R.S. were organizing. The captain of Alpha team, Albert Wesker was organizing a shooting competition between the two S.T.A.R.S. teams for training, and it was obvious that for incentives, he had a huge trophy for the winner, second and third place medals, and medals of participation for the other places.

As the event was entirely focused on S.T.A.R.S., they organized on their own, and participated, while the other policemen watched and cheered for whom they preferred. The event would take place outside, at the entrance to the west wing, there the two teams were divided and being led by their respective captains, Wesker and Marini. Enrico ordered his team to make sure that all weapons were good and ready for the competition, while Wesker, ordered his team to assemble the entire structure of the competition, and as a perfectionist, he wanted everything perfect.

When the lack of duct tape to stick the targets is over, Wesker sends Jill Valentine to get more. It was a simple task, which he had forgotten to do and he says to Jill, that he had left some boxes of tape on his desk in the office, she does not complain when she receives the task, she just turns to smile at Rebecca Chambers of Bravo, and go looking for it quickly. She was already close to the office, just another corridor, entering the door to her left, she immediately smelled the coffee that the office always carried.

With a smile on her face, Jill begins to approach the door to Wesker's small office, listening to the door she entered close. Albert was right when he said that the box of tapes would be on his desk, Valentine takes four tapes, thinking it was too much, but it was better to be left than missing, heading for the exit, when her hand holds the handle, she hears some voices outside, voices that were speaking about her, Jill grips the knob tightly, not turning it.

— Seriously, a little girl like her? — She soon recognizes the voice, Brian Irons, the chief of police, Jill takes a deep breath, being as quiet as possible, did not want them to know she was there. — Is that what you're rooting for?

— I think she has a lot of potential, Irons. — It's impossible not to recognize Marvin Branagh's voice, he almost never talks to her, but it was nice to know that he thought she had potential.

— If we were placing a bet, you would lose. — Jill is silent, trying to hold the hurt that burned in her chest. — She won't even come in third, I don't know why Albert admitted her to Alpha... — Valentine remains silent, hearing the voices fading due to the distance. She swallows hard, trying to get it out of her head, leaving the office as soon as possible, heading back to the west entrance.

 Jill could say that the shooting competition was one of the worst disasters of her life. She wasn't at all motivated after hearing Irons say that, and she blamed herself a lot for letting it take over during the competition. Be in line with the rest of the S.T.A.R.S. waiting to receive his participation medal, it was one of his worst nightmares.

He was in the middle of Barry and Joseph. Barry had stayed in fourth place, while Joseph secured himself in sixth, Jill knew that fifth place was a good position, but the words of that filthy man, circled her head, while she practically stared at the floor. She had seen Irons whisper among some policemen, making them laugh, and that discouraged her even more. Chris had won the trophy, and she couldn't be happier for it, but she also really wanted to get out of there.

That day, Jill learned her lesson. She would never let any man say anything bad about her, ever again. She left R.P.D. without speaking to anyone, whispering: "your happiness is worth more than winning a stupid competition".

 Δ iii. barry burton

 Walking around the mansion had a bizarre mix of feelings. Jill liked quiet places, and the empty mansion by itself was a perfect place for her, except that almost every corridor had a new surprise waiting for her, zombies, crows, and the insecurity of opening a door, and finding one more. STARS member dead.

Jill had a lot on her mind, and the new area of ​​the mansion made her unsure about things. She had just put a cylinder inside the machine that would make the underground elevator work, the four buttons lit a red light. Pushing the buttons, even in the most obvious order, hadn't worked, and Jill becomes impatient when she sees the cylinder come out again. Examining the cylinder, she can see that it had a sequence of numbers, but that the two parts did not meet.

Rotating the top, she discovers the sequence. “IV II III I”, with a smile on her face, Jill puts the cylinder back in the machine, pressing the buttons in the same sequence, glad it worked. The sound of the elevator, which was held by very visible chains, reaches the floor she was on, and she walks to him, analyzing the buttons on the panel, she hears the sound of the door she entered opening, and soon recognizes the voice that called her name.

 — Barry?! Thank god you're safe. — She leaves the elevator, approaching the older man.

— You too, Jill. — He starts looking everywhere, like every other time that Jill had found him. — A noise I heard brought me down here, but... — He enters the elevator, Valentine followed him, watching his movements. — I didn't expect to find a place like this. Have any idea as to what might be at the bottom? — Barry asks, while Jill continues to analyze the panel.

— There's only one way to find out. — She says confidently, pressing the button. It didn't take long for the elevator to reach the bottom, they weren't sure what was there, but they heard a strange noise. Barry pulls out his gun, looking around intently.

— What the hell is that sound? — Jill starts to analyze the place, the caves under the mansion were certainly huge, it would take a while to check all that. — It could be a person. — What Barry said next made Jill question Burton's character. — Jill, go check it out. We have had enough surprises for one day. I’ll stay here, and secure our escape route in case something happens. — Valentine was totally against the idea of ​​spliting up, she thought if they were together, maybe they could find Wesker and Redfield faster, but she also didn't complain when Barry sent her to check, she was part of the S.T.A.R.S., she didn't have to refuse to do something. It was her job.

 Entering a door near the elevator. Jill had to face a woman, or what was left of one, her body had become monstrous, and now she couldn't even distinguish the woman's monster anymore. Valentine couldn't help but be sad, everyone in the mansion was a person, and they were alive before that.

Facing her, Jill discovered it was her making the noises. Knowing this, she had to go back to Barry, and maybe, that would mean they could walk through the caves together. When she got back to where the elevator was, her heart sank, Barry went up with the elevator, leaving her right there. She was sad, angry, and that only motivated her to continue, and get out of there, why did Barry act strange?

The next time they meet, Barry looks surprised to see her. His look was one of despair, fear, he seemed much more nervous than the other times they met. Jill had been through many things since that meeting in the caves, had returned to the mansion, and placed the emblems at the back of the stairs. Seeing Barry again, made Jill unsure, about trusting him again.

When she found him, he was touching a stone structure, it looked like a coffin. He was holding his gun, and as she started approching, he turned to her, placing the gun behind his back, as if he was trying to hide it. He acted as if she hadn't seen it.

 — Jill! Are you alive! — Jill approaches him, in silence, watching his movements, Burton looked really nervous. — I was worried, because I thought you were ... — “Dead? After you left me there?” Jill thought, anger was all she felt, Barry had underestimated her.

With a quick movement, Barry points the gun at Jill. Reacting fast, Jill manages to execute a maneuver, disarming him, Barry was distracted, in other situations, he would never have let him be disarmed, Jill holds the gun, pointing at him, she was tired, and couldn’t believe he had aimed the weapon at her.

 — Start talking! — She says, her anger increased more, every time she thought about everything that was happening. And then, she decided, no matter what, she would come out of that nightmare alive.

 Δ iv. albert wesker

 The mansion incident was something that would forever be remembered in the memory of the five S.T.A.R.S. survivors. Being inside that office, which was once lively and cheerful, left them really agitated and insecure.

The mansion had been blown up. Probably to prevent them from having concrete evidence of Umbrella's guilt about all of this. They only had some evidence, files, that they had taken from the mansion. Much of it was brought in by Chris and Rebecca, who lead with the mansion's things together, Jill carried some she found during her time there, Barry, while having to side with Wesker, contributed some too.

But there is one that Jill will never forget to read. She took it from Albert's body, after Tyrant killed him, it was a pocket diary, which he was updating while they were trying to survive in the mansion. About Redfield, he said that Chris was already suspicious, and it would be a long time before he found out the truth. About Burton, he had written that he was the weakest link, because he had family, and he could use that against Barry. About Vickers, well, it was just him thanking the fact that he was a coward, because he didn't have to get his hands dirty to lure us to the mansion.

About anyone from Bravo, there wasn't much, just that he imagined they were already dead by then. But about Jill ... He had written that she was a skinny, good detective, and had already left R.P.D. suspicious of him, but for him, she would be an easy target, and it would be the first one he would kill if she got in his way.

Jill didn't want to count this as a victory. It was not the time, especially after so many casualties. But she had survived, and he hadn't, and it shows how much she wasn’t an easy target, Valentine was sure it wasn't done with Wesker, and she was going to take Umbrella down now.

 Δ v. nicholai ginovaef

 During the outbreak of the virus in the city, Jill obtained refuge and support from a man named Carlos Oliveira. It wasn't much, but it was a start, even though Valentine didn't know how far her confidence should go, since in less than 10 minutes, she found out that Oliveira was with Umbrella, or almost.

Umbrella had sent a platoon to save the survivors from the outbreak. Jill met the U.B.C.S. platoon captain, and even though she didn't want to trust them, she wanted to help civilians as much as they did. So, following Carlos' requests, Jill was on her way to the subway substation.

Going there, she passed a garage in a car repair shop. Where she found a man... A soldier, dressed in clothes similar to those of the U.B.C.S. injured, without thinking twice, Jill approaches him, who was propped up in the car. His injuries didn’t appear to have been made by zombies. Jill experienced zombie bites, and that one definitely wasn't one. The injuries were more like a melee attack from someone alive.

 — You’re U.B.C.S.? — She begins to analyze her injuries, while the man looks desperately at her.

— Yeah. C-careful, careful. — Jill gets lost in her thoughts, it definitely didn't seem like a bite, who could have done that to him? — Come on, don't look at me like that, alright? I'm not infected!

— Okay, let’s take care... — Suddenly, the soldier starts to say “no” quickly, and all Jill could do was see the gunshot directly through his head, leaving Valentine slightly scared. She gets up, looking at the bald-haired man, dressed in a U.B.C.S. uniform, looking at the body of the soldier he had killed. — What the fuck!

— He was infected. — His accent was strong, similar to Mikhail's, Jill looks at him in disbelief, unable to believe what the man had just done.

— He MIGHT have been infected! — The man laughs, turning his back on Valentine, it was surreal, Jill followed him with her eyes.

— Are all S.T.A.R.S. this soft? — He laughs, starting to walk, he walked fast, as if he wanted to get out of here fast, Jill takes his step following the same. — No wonder so many of you are dead.

— And what are you? — Jill confronts, the same stops walking, he had started up the stairs, and to look at her. — U.B.C.S.? Killing your own people? — He goes down a step, approaching Jill's face, as if he was trying to intimidate her, Valentine doesn't give in, she looks at the man with the same intensity, no man would intimidate her.

— He would have turned. — He smiles sideways, making fun of her, Jill feels her fists clench in a tight grip, he had no mercy, he seemed to follow his own rules, even if Commander Victor was in charge of the U.B.C.S. — Where's your sense of self-preservation? — He laughs dry, and goes back up the stairs. — Go back to the subway station. We don’t need a bleeding heart like you getting in the way.

 Jill is left alone again, she was sure that this would not be the last time she would meet him, but she realized that she would have to be careful around him, because she wouldn’t die in Raccoon City.

 Δ vi. carlos oliveira  

When Jill arrived at the helipad, she saw Carlos lying on the ground near the helicopter, she imagined the worst. She had stayed behind, to put an end to the tyrant who pursued her during her stay in Raccoon City, and asked Carlos to go after Nicholai and the vaccine, see Carlos' fallen body, made her think the worst.

She runs over to him, crouching down to try to feel a pulse in his neck. She soon hears footsteps approaching him, and she sees Nicholai, who kicks her, without being able to react quickly. She recovers quickly, trying to pull the gun, but she is soon disarmed by another kick from the man. He had the vaccine in hand, and a gun pointed at her.

 — You’re not going to stop me. — He shakes the vaccine in his hand. — Promised you this, didn't I? — He throws the vaccine at her side, and Jill tries to reach it, only to see it being shot by Nicholai.

— Do you have any idea what you’ve just done? — She looks at Nicholai, who had a sarcastic smile on his face.

— Don’t know. Don’t care. — He shrugs. — My client ordered me to reduce Umbrella to rubble. — When the robotic voice announces that the missile is only 10 minutes away from reaching the city, Valentine's heart is racing. Nicholai smiles, looking the same. — Ah, the missile has launched. And this is my cue to leave. — Jill was still on the ground, she hadn't gotten up, afraid the man would rush over and shoot, but she knew he would probably kill her now. — Goodbye, Miss Valentine. A shame you didn't listen to me when you had the chance.

 She feels safe when she sees that Carlos' body was no longer in the same place. She was happy, happy that he hadn't died, but afraid that he was fighting Nicholai now, trying to disarm him. Despite the shock, Jill turns her attention, and reaches for the weapon she had lost earlier. Aiming at Nicholai, who was now surrendered by Carlos, Jill takes a deep breath, looking at Carlos.

 — Jill! Shoot him! — Hearing Carlos say that, made Jill insecure, she knew she wouldn't be able to shoot Nicholai without hitting Carlos.

— I can’t! I'll hit you! — It was an idiotic moment for this, and Jill knew it, but at that time, she remembered Iron’s comment on the day of the competition, and how much it affected her, if she couldn't hit the targets there, how could she hit him without hitting Carlos?

— Shoot! You have to! There's no other way! — Jill tries to aim with all precision, her shaking hands didn't help at all. — I trust you. — That was more than an incentive for her to pull the trigger, hitting Nicholai in the chest, making him fall to the ground, and consequently, Carlos too.

— Carlos! — Jill approaches him, lowering, part of her worry leaves her, when she sees the smile on his face.

— Hey, I told you I couldn't leave you in a Carlos-less world. — Jill smiles at him, happy that he was alive. — That would just be too cruel. — Jill extends her arm, lifting Carlos. — What about him? — Carlos asks about Nicholai, getting into the helicopter to start him.

— Why’d you do it? — Jill asks next to Nicholai, the man smiles, holding his chest.

— There's a price tag for everything. Even letting the world burn. — Jill looks at him with disgust, tired of all this.

— Who are you working for? — She hears the helicopter engines, she knew Carlos was waiting for her.

— I'll tell you if you get me out of here. I'll pay you whatever you want. — Valentine smiles, looking at the helicopter, walking to it. — You’re a fool. You’re a fool! — Nicholai kept saying, looking at Jill close to the helicopter. — If I die, you’ll never find out the truth.

— I don't mind a little detective work. — She climbs into the helicopter, closing the door, sitting down, feeling the helicopter start to take off. Her gaze lands on Carlos, and she can't help but smile, she was finally where she wanted to be.

  Δ bonus  

B.S.A.A. organized a huge event, with all the team members, to honor some people. Jill hated this type of event, but it always came because Chris insisted that it was good to rest after all the B.S.A.A. missions, but she knew that she only came to make fun of people's behavior with Carlos.

Carlos and Jill stayed together after Raccoon City. They were together, dating, for a long time. Carlos loved it when Jill made a joke about these events, and to Jill it seemed kind of forced when he insisted that they come to that specific event. Jill knew she never won awards, they always came for the food and the joke, and sometimes, they would come to Carlos receive his awards.

Redfield had contacted Carlos, convincing him to bring Jill. The reason was simple, the only honorees of the night were the former members of S.T.A.R.S. for all the service they did and still do, Oliveira was happy to bring Jill, he loved seeing her smile with the jokes they made, and she looked beautiful in those chic dresses.

Jill always accompanied him when he received awards, and he was more than happy to be able to accompany her on this one. He knew he would be up front, seeing her on stage, and applauding her, Jill was an extraordinary woman, and Carlos couldn't be more proud.

When they called her name it was a shock. Jill had been very happy when they called the name of Barry, Chris and Rebecca, applauded them with a huge smile on their face, but didn’t expected when she heard her name, she looked at Carlos, with a weak smile, and he opened a huge smile, standing up to hug her. Following her as she headed towards the stage, joining Barry and Rebecca, while Chris gave a short speech.

And Carlos was there. At the front, cheering her with a smile on her face, Jill cried when Chris's speech spoke about her, she laughed and hid her face in Barry's jacket, ashamed, but Carlos, Carlos thought she was beautiful.

[hollenka99]

The One Where Jackie Nearly Dies

Summary: Chapter 2. Anti has another victim but may need to improvise with his methods.

Warnings: Attempted murder, blood, kidnapping, knives

@badlypostedeverything @bupine

A young man reluctantly stands by as the serial killer lures his next victim. He witnesses their conversation, safely out of their view. As they disappear towards Anti's vehicle, the observer forms a portal. On the other side, he steps into a house full of chatter. Raucous laughter can be heard coming from the living room. The culprits are four men, all planning on getting progressively drunk over the course of the night. The host is the one due to celebrate his 34th birthday the following week. Fortunately for Joel, the evening has only recently gotten under way. The hero he is searching for will have barely affected his blood alcohol levels. Henrik is taken aback when he spots him. The collective surprise leads to Marvin turning his head to check what the fuss was about. "Joel? Way to crash a party, dude." The teleporter stands behind Marvin. Hands on his friend's shoulders, he leans close to his ear. "Go home and suit up. It's Anti." "Are you fucking kidding me? Can that prick not let me have one night to hang out with friends? Fine. Can you get me home?" Marvin mutters back. "Of course." Chase initially protests the departure, claiming no supermarket would ask an employee to work a shift with no prior notice, let alone do so after 8pm. Marvin insists he really does have to leave the party early. As easily as walking through a door, the duo finds themselves in Marvin's flat. Rapid changes have become a mastered skill for the superhero. He tucks all his curls out of his face, kept hidden by the top of his costume. One of these days, he'll stop reminding himself at the most inconvenient time to get a more practical haircut and actually do it. His companion hops back from Ontario in a hoodie and jogging bottoms. Hop may not be the right verb. It looks moments away from being closer to 'stumbles' or 'trips'. Still, Joel keeps his composure and gives Marvin a thumbs up. He's right. Time doubting Joel is simply time wasted. He hasn't let him down in the past. In the appropriate attire, the Magnificent Cat and Warper set off into action. ---- The door won't budge. All attempts to escape prove fruitless. This is where having powers would really come in handy. Jackie would kill for- Okay, maybe he should pick a better choice of phrase. Either way, having enhanced strength would be highly appreciated right now. He won't stop fighting against the locked car door. "Could you please cut that out? If you break something, I'm the one footing the bill." "Good. Should have thought about that before kidnapping someone." "Listen, it's nothing personal. You're just a random guy, you know. The only people who will realise you've vanished are me and possibly that superhero." "That's not as reassuring as you probably think." His head was really suffering now. It kept throbbing severely, causing him to suppress a groan. "Why does my head hurt so much? All you did was trick me." "Ah, yeah, sorry about that. Side effect for people not used to my power when I focus it on them." "I'm about to be killed by a shapeshifter?" "Shapeshifter." The driver clearly finds this humourous. "That's where the police go wrong. I respect their efforts but I can't help but laugh at them. Trust me, I can do so much more than make myself look different. Do you have any powers? Clearly not anything strength-related." Jackie refuses to answer. Anti takes this as legitimate response and continues driving. Anything that most people would likely see as a landmark was lost on him. The most he would be able to comment if he somehow managed to call for help was 'I think it was right at the Sainsbury's and we passed a church sometime after that'. However they get to the office building, Jackie wishes this was where the journey could end. He'd happily walk all the way back to his spot near the high street if it meant keeping his life. With encouragements such as 'I'm sure you would prefer this to be private', Jackie is lead inside. Several floors up, Anti disables security by simply looking at them. Okay, maybe a bit more than a non-shapeshifter then. The killer faces him. "Listen, I'm usually a reasonable guy, you know? I have a job and have a bunch of good interpersonal relationships. But sometimes shit happens. Unfortunately, not everything in life can go smoothly. Everyone has their release. I can smell that you use cigarettes as your method. And me? Well, for some fucking reason, this. Don't ask. Even I'm not entirely sure why I feel so accomplished afterwards." Anti will have to try harder to get a reaction other than a scowl out of him. "Have you ever had someone cheat on you? Because that is probably the one of the shittiest things someone can do to their partner, second only to well, actually abusing them. You ever been through that?" Okay, he has to admit, that threw him off guard. "Uh..." "No, don't deny it. I can see it on your face." Anti smiles. "You stuck around after finding out, didn't you? Wow, I gotta say, I admire you for not confronting her ass the first chance you got." "My personal life is none of your business." "No. No, you're right. I'm sorry. Still..." The murderer admires the knife in his hand. "You seem to have drawn numerous short straws lately. I'll do you the courtesy of not beating around the bush any longer." The trajectory of the knife appears to directed at Jackie's chest. He dodges it enough so the blade only slices his arm. He gets no time to reflect. Anti kicks him in the chest. Stumbling back, Jackie loses his footing and falls to the floor. There's the knife again. Scrambling to rise isn't performed quick enough. Hand around his throat to help secure him, Anti makes the first blow. The knife twists upon departure. The killer acts as if he struggles to retrieve it. All to accentuate the agony. The sequel follows swiftly. With it, the process is repeated. All the while, Jackie's biggest distraction is making himself focus on anything but Anti's hovering face. Then he sits. Nothing more, nothing less. Jackie convinces himself he has a chance of escape. Any attempt he makes to leave is squashed. Pushing his protesting body up with his arms results in a sharp jab of a foot. His second attempt fails with more aggression. Okay, he gets the message. Fuck moving then, except for curling in on himself. He doesn't even notice his face getting damp. "Shh, it's okay. I'll speed things up in a few minutes. Promise. Even get your own stone that I painted myself." Anti stays there, sitting, waiting, observing. He watches as his latest victim steadily grows closer to a point of no return. Something unforeseen halts this activity. Jackie swears he spots a pot plant ignite. A face he's seen before appears. The stranger begins helping him to his feet before promptly abandoning him. Another person lends him their hand in the chaotic midst of a battle. His gratefulness ends as soon as he's upright. A left arm wraps around his front. It pins Jackie's arms to his body and keeps him pressed against Anti. He does his best to focus on how awkward he'd feel this physically close to a stranger in any other situation. Anything to distract from the fact the killer's other arm is busy aiming a knife at his throat. Cat directs a forceful gust at multiple panes of glass. Some shatter from this attack. Threats to introduce fire to Anti's clothes are heard. Anti laughs as he calls the superhero's bluff. As if he was willing to purposefully endanger one life, let alone two. A branch reaches out to the criminal and his hostage. The knife is easily stolen. Anti counts his losses and lets Jackie fall unceremoniously to the floor. "There's an exit there. You should get out if you can." He hears Cat declare as he recovers, pointing the way. Jackie could have sworn he and Anti entered from the other side of the room. However, a lot had occurred in the time since. He hobbles towards the door while grasping his wounds. A hand against the wall assists in guiding him to his destination. The illusion breaks and reforms in such quick succession, it flickers like sunlight while driving past a fence. In the span of a blink the world corrects itself. There's that door again. The heroes are busy. He'll help them out by giving them less to worry about. Anti somehow causes the vigilante duo to stop attacking him. He approaches Jackie, standing a little too close for comfort. Not that there was anything comforting about a serial killer. Please just stop tormenting him. The remaining shards of glass poke him in the back. If he leans back any more, he may receive a third stab wound. The man determined to see him die tonight grips him by the top. Grinning at the two heroes, he tells them "Catch him if you can." and... And oh fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. There is nothing surrounding him expect air. No amount of flailing is going to conjure a last minute object he can grab to save his life. He's really done for now. During all those times he worried if he wouldn't see 25, he hadn't planned for this to be how. He shuts his eyes. What else can he do? Heights have never particularly fazed him. Watching the street grow closer, however, would make anyone fearful. He guesses he should be grateful it's ending like this. This is certainly a faster and less painful method than he expects some people he knew got. He tries to imagine the reunion. Just one of them saying "Slept with the wrong person", to which he'd reply "Got thrown off a building with stab wounds" before they'd all shrug and agree "Well, that's life. What are you gonna do?" He makes impact. It's more dizzying than he thought. The ground groans beneath him. After a few moments of catching their breath, the person below him speaks. Arms have been embracing Jackie since landing. "You hanging in there? Things are going to be alright now." A pause as a head turns. "Of course he'd send us here. Should probably sort out those wounds before anything else. Better go grab my first aid kit." "'M fine. Not the first time I've been attacked." "Buddy, you were stabbed and thrown off a building. Like hell I'm going to let you bleed out in my home. Wait here." Jackie is gently pushed off of Cat and positioned to sit with his back against the wall. The hero is careful not to treat his friend's wounds incorrectly. Jackie doesn't pay much attention as bandages are applied to his arm and torso. His face occasionally gets splashed with water to keep him alert. He's certainly brought back to the here and now whenever Cat applies disinfectant and stitches. "Alright, I get that after all that's happened tonight, you might be wary of me. Do you want me to do the 'say something only you'd know' bit? I'm fine with that." "If you want." "We first met when I offered you a sandwich. Ham, right? Wait no, hang on, that's too generic. Um..." Cat ponders for a second. "How about the time you told me... about your little brother Spencer? He was learning to read the last time you saw him, right?" "Yes." He rewards Cat with a weary thumbs up. He guesses Anti wouldn't know about that. Anti stalking Jackie for weeks seemed doubtful. Cat sighs with a hint of exhaustion escaping unmasked. "There's also the fact I trust you with my secret." He removes the mask to reveal a man with familiar curly brown hair. "Hey, Jackie. Congrats on becoming the 3rd person to know." The two of them sit on the floor, backs against the wall. Tonight had been eventful and they needed a moment. A grey cat missing one of its front legs heads towards them. Marvin's face lights up as he holds his hand out to the cat. "Well, hello there madam. Finally decided to grace us with your presence?" He laughs. "You have a cat?" "Yep. Indie, this is Jackie. He's going to be staying with us for a while. Please be nice to him, okay?" "St- Sorry, staying with you? No, I can't. I-" "I insist. You just went from being on the streets to nearly being murdered. This place has two bedrooms and I'd rather the spare room gets used the way it was meant to. Right now it's just somewhere for dumping clutter or for Joel to crash when he wants to annoy me. All I need to do is change the covers which will take 10 minutes maximum. How long has it even been since you last slept in an actual bed?" "Alright, if you really want me to then thank you, I appreciate it." A hand carefully places itself of Jackie's shoulder. "No problem. I'll get right on that then. Help yourself to water or squash while you wait." Marvin disappears, still wearing his blood stained Magnificent Cat outfit. It is now that Jackie realises how foreign a bed seems after almost 2 months without one. He'd sleep well tonight. If only Marvin had stronger painkillers than Ibuprofen.

[prorevenge]

A unique way to share your money among your heirs in a way that is actually fair

This story is the story of a good friend's of mine grandfather, and how he dealt with his inheritance in a very unique way. He had 2 sons, and each of them also had 2 sons. In the last half year of his life, my friend and me visited him every morning and every evening. You see he did not want to go into a retirement home, and apart fro getting ready in the morning and in the evening he did not really need help.

Now I need to explain something real quick. Back in the day we still have mandatory service in the army for 12 months, but there was several way around it. I will only explain the most common way, since it is connected to our story. You see instead of gong to the army, you could say you refuse to go to the army for ethical reasons (which was really just a formality, you simply wrote a1 page essay why you think you being in the army would violate your personal ethics, and they pretty much had to accept it). BUT that meant you had to go into civil service. Civil service could be any kind of job tat in a wider sense is a service to society. So these jobs ranged from kindergarden to retirement homes and anything in between like hospitals, homes for the physically or mentally disabled, meals on wheels, pretty much anything you can imagine. You would be paid for that time the same amount of money you would get in the army, and had the right to certain perks like a free room, health insurance,m work clothes etc. the same stuff any soldier gets. Plus since soldiers get free food you either got free food or a food allowance. I did my time in a retirement home, and it was an awesome experience. I think a job like that really widens your horizon as young arrogant shit, and really matures you and shows you what is actually important in life.

Back to the story. I was just done with my time in the retirement home, and for one year imply wanted to job around and make some money. Then one of my best friends comes to me and tells me he needs my help. His grandpa can no longer do everything by himself, but really only needs help in the morning to get ready and in the evening. Since I have learned how to do this from real professionals, he asks me to show him, so his grandpa does not yet have to go into a retirement home (he later admitted grandpa said he would rather kill himself then get into a nursing home, and he seemed really serious about it. He did not tell me at the time since he did not want to pressure me into help like that, which I really appreciated).

He was one of my best friends, and I really liked his grandpa (when I was younger, I did not have a grandpa, but we visited him all the time and I became his unofficial 5th grandson) so of course I said yes. The original plan was to show him for 2-3 weeks, and then observe him for another 2-3 weeks, then he would do it on his own. But we ended up doing it together for over half a year, then grandpa had a stroke and died within 2 days in the hospital.

2 days days later my friend asked me to come with him to the lawyer where the lst will would be spread. His grandfather had specifically asked that his will should be read the day before he gets burried, which is quite unusual, but not illegal as such. I asked why he anted me there, and he told me the lawyer had officially invited me, since grandpa had left me something as a thank you for my service. I was a bit embarrassed, but also happy that grandpa had thought so highly of my service he even put me in his last will.

Now my friends dad is an entitled asshole and the same goes for his uncle. We arrived there, and went into the room. My friend is F, you get 3 guesses who ME is, entitled is ED an entitled uncle is EU.

ED (to me) : why the hell are you here ? I know that dad called you in jest his 5th grandkid, but this is for real family.

EU : I bet the little golddiger hoped he would get some money in the will.

Me : I was asked to be here by the lawyer, take it up with him i have no idea why I am here.

ED : IF YOU PULLED SOMETHING TO GET TO HIS MONEY I WILL SUE YOU SO HARD EVEN YOUR KIDS WILL STILL NEED LAWYERS !!!!

F: show some respect and stop shouting, i know you 2 did not really give a shit about your dad, but show at least a minimum of respect.

EU: HOW DARE YOU TALK LIKE THAT TO YOUR ELDERS YOU LITTLE SHIT.

F : you 2 get exactly as much respect from me as you showed your own father NONE.

He really shouted th4e last word, and it finally shut the 2 up.

WE sat down and still had to wait for the other 2 grand kids to arrive. The 2 sat right behind us, and what they talked about relay made my blood boil. Apparently the had both gotten new cars, new jewelry for the wife and had planned a huge holiday. All that was paid for by credit and they had planned to pay for it with the inheritance. None of then said even a word about missing him, being sad that he died, NOTHING. ONLY memememe and money, money , money. They seemed to be in competition who could spend the inheritance faster the way they planned away the money.

Then finally we where all there and the layer read out a short letter, what I tell you here is a much shortened version, but the real thing was several pages. But it boils down to this :

IN recent years I more and more realized that some people in my family cared a lot more about me then others. I am especially disappointed in my 2 sons, but I wanted to be really fair and not biased, so I came up with a point system :

letter/phonecall : 1 point + 1 extra if it is very long

Visit : 2 points per hour plus 1 point per hour of travel to me and back

Helping me out with something : 3 points per hour

This is the final result over the last 3 years of my life

ED : 8 points

EU : 10 points

EUkid1: 150 points

EUkid2: 133 points

Fbrother : 288 points

F : 7341

Me : 5883

My lawyer has already liquidated most of my assets except the house. Once it is sold, the money will be divided by the points, so we know what each point is worth, and then every person gets a share of the money according to his points.

For about a minute you could hear a pin drop, then both ED and EU started shouting at the same time that they knew we would have pulled something and this will would never stand. Of course they tried to sue (EU his kids and ED together), but they lost, and there was a secret clause (not really secret, it was simply not read to us that day, so nobody realized it was in there since we all assumed everything was read to us on that day by the lawyer)in the will that if someone sue's against the will, he loses his share of the inheritance.

It took nearly 3 years until all the lawsuits where over. I was blown away when we finally got the money, I a not naming a sum, but it was way more then I felt comfortable accepting, so I wanted to give at least some of it to the other 3 grandkids, but my friend finally convinced me to accept by saying to me : you cared for him when he needed you, without expecting anything for it, which makes you 10 times more his family then any of those fuckers. They got what they deserved.

(source) story by (/u/hicctl)

[bobasheebaby]

Can’t Let Go- Be Careful What You Wish For chapter 1

Pairing: Drake x MC; (past) Liam x MC

Word count: 1,950

Warnings: Evil Liam, dark fic

Summary: Liam sets out to get back the woman who stole his heart.

A/N: thank you so much for your input @sirbeepsalot! Some of the dialogue is from chapter three but I tried to add my own flair.

Series warnings: Evil Liam, dark!fic, deceit, manipulation, dub con, possible NSFW content, possible character death. This is taking the Liam from TRH to the extreme, he is not the Liam we know and love. By clicking read more you acknowledge you are at least 18 years of age.

Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the characters, I’m simply borrowing from PB for a bit.

Liam tried to let her go, release his longing for her. He thought the pain of her choosing another would eventually fade, that seeing Rebecca sitting and laughing with Drake would slowly become easier, but if anything it only became harder. He struggled to understand how he possibly could have lost her, he’d told her what he felt in his heart every chance he got, she knew that Madeline wasn’t where his heart lay.

How could she fall in love with another? How could she so easily give up on me while we were fighting to clear her name so we could finally be together? Were all her whispered I love you's a lie?

Liam thought watching Rebecca marry his best friend would help him come to terms with them never having a chance, but it only made his longing for her that much greater. Standing next to Drake as they pledged their love for one another only made him wish even harder that it was him she was promising to love for eternity. He slowly felt his heart crack until something in him twisted so hard it finally snapped.

There were whispers, and so much pressure after the failed Sons of Earth plot to dethrone him. Liam was a King without a Queen, he knew that soon the people would be demanding he marry and produce an heir. He knew the longer it took the weaker their small country would seem.

He wanted to marry for love. But really he wanted to marry the one woman he could not have. He wanted, no he needed Rebecca. He needed her like he needed air to breathe. She had become to him as needed as oxygen to live. He knew there would never be another like her. She would be the only woman to ever claim his heart and soul. No one else would ever get him and fit into this life so easily. She handled the life as if she were born and bred for it, respected him for who he was not his title, he could never find anyone who would complete him like she did.

I need to get her back.

Watching Drake and Rebecca leave for their honeymoon felt like he’d been sucker punched in the gut. Knowing they’d be starting to try for their own heir for their duchy only made him lose his mind.

It should have been me with her. It should be my heir, not his. He doesn’t even want this life. She deserves a man who can rule confidently beside her.

He heard whispers that the King and Queen of Auvernal may pay him a visit to discuss his lack of an heir. He saw this as his chance to get what he craved, and he craved her. He couldn’t let her go. He couldn’t let his chance slip through his fingers once again. He wouldn’t allow a minor setback to stop him from having her, not when he knew she felt it too. Why else would she spend the night of her bachelorette party with him?

She’s lying to herself, it’s me who she wants, not him. I just have to remind her.

Liam scoured the archives for any evidence to back up the claims he would have to make to get what he wanted. He knew there was a chance that someone would question him and he needed to have proof just in case. Normally he’d delegate the task to someone else but he didn’t want anyone to know exactly what he was planning. He needed to go slowly, not show all of his cards at once. He didn’t want them to realize what it was that he truly wanted too soon, or they may find a way to refuse his request. He knew Drake felt as though he owed him, getting them to agree to allow him to name their child as his heir would be the easy part.

There is no way he’ll say no to me, he admitted he feels guilty for stealing my girl.

It was what he would request next that would be tricky. He knew if he played it right they would see it was the only option, he just had to be patient and take his time, ensure that all the steps had been followed precisely and then he would get what he wanted. He knew he’d have to pretend to be caring and understanding, attempt to hold back his feelings for her when all he wanted was to pull Rebecca into his arms.

This will work. I will have her by my side where she belongs.

If he could slowly lay out his plan, drive a wedge between them he knew he’d have her as is queen. His plan was so simple, so easy. He knew that once she saw how weak Drake was she’d see she’d chosen the wrong man. He knew he could win her back. There wasn’t anything that he wasn’t willing to do. He’d go as far as necessary to get the woman of his dreams back.

Weaken their relationship, play the caring supportive friend. By the time he realizes something is wrong it will be too late.  She will be my queen.

Liam carefully laid out his plans. Slowly, methodically, careful to ensure that he would have no false steps or surprises. He refused to leave anything to chance, he would regain her heart. He would never let her slip through his fingers again.

As he stepped off the jet, his friends in tow, he had to suppress a smile. He felt that everything was going perfectly, there wasn’t a stone left unturned, no possible way he could be found out. He kept his lips in a thin line, his hands shoved in his pockets, he needed to play this as though he was their friend, he couldn’t allow anyone to suspect anything was up, especially not Drake. He needed to seem as though he hesitated to ask this of them, he couldn’t let them believe he had any other motives for wanting to name their child as his heir. He struggled to keep his mind clear as they spoke, his eyes never straying from her. He internally smiled as Drake readily agreed.

I knew he couldn’t say no to me.

He was unsurprised by Rebecca’s hesitation, he expected as much. He knew her, what drove we forward, what made her heartbeat quicken, and what made it freeze in time.

I know her better than Drake does.

He easily circumvented anymore questions by introducing his surprise. He knew they wouldn’t be able to say no to an extra day in paradise, with their friends no less. It had the added benefit of taking her mind off of all the reasons she would want to tell him no. He wouldn’t let her answer, not yet. No he’d catch her once she was rested, even if his heart ached at the thought of her spending the night with Drake.

How could she ever fall for him? He’s all snark, he doesn’t put her and her needs first.

Liam waited until she was cornered. He’d have preferred that she was alone, but Drake was never too far behind.

Soon enough she will be where she belongs. Soon she will be with me.

The meaningless small talk spilled from his lips as he lulled her into complacency. His heart beating faster the closer he got to finally getting the answer he needed. He offered her a practiced rueful smile. “There is one official matter we need to discuss before we arrive… the question of a royal heir.” Liam swallowed thickly trying to remove the bile from his throat as Drake took her hands into his. “I’d hoped to give you and Drake more time to consider the idea, but the court and the Council have been pressing me for a decision. And to be honest, the public is already speculating whether their favorite noble couple will have a child…”

It’s us they should be waiting with bated breath to celebrate with. Soon enough it will be us again my love.

Rebecca’s eyes widened in shock, Liam had to bite back the smile forming at her disbelief. “So the whole kingdom wants to know if our baby will be the next ruler of Cordonia?”

Liam nodded. He felt jealous rage coil it’s way around his heart as he watched her glance to Drake for comfort and guidance.

I’m the one who she should go to for comfort.

“I’m ready for this if you are, Allen.” Drake replied, smiling encouragingly.

“Liam…” Rebecca paused, the words hanging on the tip of her tongue as she hesitated. His breath caught in his throat as he awaited her response. “This is a lot of responsibility… but I think we’re up for it.”

You are strong and shall be a perfect queen soon enough my love.

Liam couldn’t stop the smile from spreading to his lips. “I know you are. Thank you both. I can’t tell you how much this means to me… and how much it’ll mean to the kingdom.”

Just a few more steps and the rightful heir, my heir will soon be on its way.

“I’m guessing your Royal guests from Auvernal will have questions for us too.” Drake pulled Liam from his quiet victory.

Soon you will no longer have a say.

Liam pulled his lips into a thin line. “No doubt. I’ve asked the Royal Council to meet us at Valtoria, so you two can check on your duchy while we discuss the matter of King Bradshaw and Queen Isabella.”

One last piece of the puzzle to put into place today.

Liam waited until Drake headed towards the back of the plane. “Drake.” His voice warm and placating. “I was thinking, with your child being named the heir, perhaps it wouldn’t be a bad idea to speak to a doctor.”

“What do you mean?” Drake asked his face contorted in confusion.

Liam gave him a false smile. “I just meant you and Rebecca agreeing to help me out is huge, and it might not be a bad idea to make sure you are both healthy enough. Since I have the council breathing down my neck they may not take kindly if it took too long. I’m grateful to you and Rebecca and it would just help me feel better if you went. I mean I’m going to be announcing this soon.”

“Right.” Drake swallowed thickly. “Announcing it.” He felt as if he’d been hit with a ton of bricks. “Yea, it probably wouldn’t be a bad idea to get checked.”

He won’t even see it coming.

Liam reaches into his breast pocket retrieving a slim white card, handing it over to Drake. “Dr Ramirez is the best.” He clapped Drake on the shoulder. “I think it’s best if you let this come from you, I wouldn’t want the added pressure to get to her too soon.”

Drake stared ahead like a deer caught in the headlights. “Pressure. Right.” He nodded, the weight of Cordonia falling on his shoulders, fear and panic coursing through his veins.

“Thank you again Drake.” Liam pulled him into his arms hugging him, his eyes glistening with unshed tears as he pulled back. “I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you and Rebecca would be willing to let me name your child my heir.” He gave him one last pat before turning and returning to his seat, smile upon his lips.

Everything is in place. Now all that’s left is to sit back and wait until she’s back in my arms where she belongs.

Feedback fuels me, please like, comment reblog or send an ask. Feel free to scream, I promise I can take it.

Masterlist can be found in my bio.

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[lady-divine-writes]

The Prince of the Sea and his Child of Fire (Rated NC17) - Chapter 3/15

Summary: Blaine is a water sprite, prince of the undersea kingdom and sole heir to the throne. Five days away from turning seventeen and his big coronation, he decides to take a journey to the surface, to seek out a legendary flame said to be tended by an evil witch. Instead of a witch, he finds something else entirely ...

Kurt is a fire fairy, prince of a race of fire fairies and heir to the throne. Five days away from turning seventeen (on the night of a full solar eclipse when he will transform and become king), he sees for the first time in his life a water sprite - a member of a race that he's been raised to hate.

What will happen when these two mortal enemies fall in love? Is there any way for them to escape destiny and be together?

Read on AO3

Chapter 3

“Blaine! Wake up!” Trent pleads to his prince’s unconscious face. After hours of swimming, Trent - physically and emotionally drained, his energy reserves tapped - begins to lose hope. Blaine is still breathing but he hasn’t woken, hasn’t blinked, hasn’t moved for hours, not even in the ways someone normally does while they sleep.

And Blaine is a notorious sleep talker.

The thin, sensitive skin of Blaine’s eyelids has been stained black with ash, and a larger, angry-red burn marks his brow, but otherwise he seems uninjured. Trent looked Blaine’s body over as soon as they were far enough away from that accursed cove to risk stopping, trying to find any other burns on his skin, but there aren’t any.

Trent isn’t a doctor, but he takes that to mean that whatever is plaguing Blaine is happening inside his body.

Perhaps he’s enchanted! he thinks. Perhaps that fairy put him under a spell! Or maybe he was a witch! A powerful witch, and now Blaine has been cursed to sleep for the rest of his life!

“Please!” Trent cries, terrified that he’s lost his best friend forever. “Wake up, Blaine!”

Trent swims all day, stopping from time to time to check on his prince and to rest, keeping Blaine to the parts of the ocean untouched by daylight. Daylight in any form will hurt a sprite, but exposure to direct daylight out of water will kill them. By late afternoon, Trent finally makes his way back to the castle. He miraculously avoids being seen and sending up any sort of alarm. He hides with Blaine in the garden beneath the splayed fingers of a yellow Elkhorn coral, blocked from the view of passersby and the castle windows above.

“Blaine, I need you to wake up,” Trent says, his voice wavering as despair takes over. “You’re my best friend. Besides, I don’t want to go to your father and tell him his only son is dead.” Trent withers at the thought. “You know he’s going to kill me, too.”

Trent bends over and rests his ear on Blaine’s chest in search of a heartbeat. It’s there, and it’s strong, but that might not be enough to counter that blasted fairy’s magic. Trent doesn’t know. Very little is known about the fire fairies above except they’re evil, and not to be trusted under any circumstances. But what else is there that needs to be known?

“Please, Blaine,” he mutters, tears starting in his eyes. “Get up … please, get up.”

Trent hears a cough … then a huff … then a snort. He looks up to see his friend’s eyelids struggle open, weakly parting, unfocused eyes searching his face.

“What are you going to do next?” Blaine asks in a raspy voice. “Profess your undying love to me?”

Trent feels a rush of unabashed joy for a single second before anger sets in.

“You jerk!” Trent snaps, pushing away from Blaine. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Awww, admit it …” Blaine sits up, pressing a hand to his spinning head “… you were worried about me.”

“I was worried about being ground into chum and fed to the sharks, that’s all I was worried about.” Trent rises to his feet and brushes off his pants, offering Blaine a hand up regardless of his anger. “What happened to you? I thought you were dead!”

“I … I was knocked out cold, I guess. Nothing more.”

“So you’re not going to grow wings or burst into flames then?”

Blaine snickers. “No. None of that,” he says, but subtly peeking at his back to make sure.

“Great. That’s just great. Well, back to business as usual, I guess.”

“Guess so.”

“By the way, your royal ass-ness, you are officially late for another war meeting.”

“Wha---?” Blaine brushes at his clothes, grimacing at the scorch marks curling the hem of his pants. He looks up, peering at the position of the light in the water, the direction of the current. He slaps a palm to his forehead. “Aw, crap!” he groans, half out of pain and half out of irritation. He scrambles out from under the coral, feet pushing into the wet sand as he propels himself forward, kicking up clouds in his wake. He circles around the castle, heading for the entrance. “Couldn’t you have gotten us back here any faster?” he yells at Trent, clambering behind him, fighting to keep up.

“Maybe I could have gotten here faster if I had dropped the dead weight I was dragging, you dugong’s behind!”

Blaine grins at his friend’s comment as they backtrack through the hallways, taking the same path they had earlier, dashing through the maze of corridors till they get to the main hall, feet sliding across the slick floors. Blaine rounds the corner to the war room, continuing on alone (which he wouldn’t normally but he owes Trent one), stopping at the door and straightening what is left of his singed pants. He doesn’t have time to race back to his room and grab his royal sash not to mention a shirt, so shirtless and unadorned will have to do. It’s a serious breach in protocol (or so he’s been told numerous times) but one good thing will come from that.

His dad will hate it.

Blaine can hear voices from the war room echo out into the hallway before he enters.

“The situation is getting serious. We should attack now before anyone gets hurt!”

“I agree! We must move quickly! Take them by surprise! We cannot delay any longer!”

“General, with all due respect, we cannot go to war over an isolated incident! That will cause far more trouble, and damage, than it’s worth!”

“We’re not talking about an isolated incident. It seems an army of jellyfish attacked the outlying area a full moon ago, my king. And there are reports that a larger army is amassing west of the whale graveyard.”

“Send an envoy. Try to reason with them first! Perhaps your son could …”

“Jellyfish are brainless! They cannot be reasoned with!”

“If they can organize forces and mobilize, they can most definitely be reasoned with!”

“The outlying area … the whale graveyard … those are fairly remote areas to be building an army and launching an attack. Do we have any idea why they would choose there?”

“It’s not heavily guarded and …”

The guard at the entrance clears his throat when Blaine enters, wincing at the sight of Blaine’s blackened eyes and ruined pants.

“Presenting His Royal Highness, Prince Blaine!”

Blaine barely makes it a foot through the doorway when the entire assemblage stops cold, turns in his direction, and stares open-mouthed. His father, the massive black figure at the far end of the room, revolves around slowly and to dramatic effect. The oldest among the water sprites, he fills the room from nearly floor to ceiling. His once pale skin now an oily pitch, he absorbs every inch of light in the room, making it seem darker than it really is. Unlike other water sprites, he’s developed thick, rugged tentacles from years of scouring the ocean floor and rarely swimming. His eyes, once golden like Blaine’s, have become large yellow discs with no discernible pupils. He’s a fearsome monster to behold, the leviathan of nightmares and legends.

And Blaine gets to call him father.

The Great Sea King takes one look at his son and closes his yellow eyes in disgust.

“Leave us,” he says, gesturing with his tentacles to those gathered around the room.

Without a word, the entire council stands and leaves, eyes adverted as they pass the sprite their king shows so much disdain for.

“Close the door,” the king commands. The heavy door closes. Blaine and his father stand on opposite ends of the room - alone.

Blaine steps forward, back straight, shoulders square, head high – as much the countenance of royalty as he can muster. But when his father opens his eyes again, he is unimpressed by his son’s posturing.

“Father,” Blaine starts, clasping his hands behind his back to stop their shaking, “I apologize for being late, but I …”

“Look at you,” his father sneers, addressing his son with a grimace. “Look at your clothes, your face. You are a mess, and late to yet another important meeting.” The king turns his back on his son, staring at the wall behind him. “You make a poor prince. What sort of king are you going to be? You are a disgrace.”

Blaine glowers at his father, for all the good his sour face does when his father refuses to even look at him.

“If I’m such a disgrace, then don’t make me king,” Blaine says bitterly, disguising the hurt in his voice.

“If I had any other choice, I wouldn’t,” his father says, sighing heavily from the burden of his troublesome son. “We are done here. You may go.”

Blaine jerks back. In his father’s presence less than five minutes and already dismissed. Must be some new record. A younger Blaine would have apologized, fallen on his knees and begged for his father’s forgiveness, begged to be given another chance, but this more jaded Blaine knows better. Even at his best, Malek, the King of the Sea, has never seen any worth in his only son. So Blaine simply turns on his heel and storms out of the room.

His face burns bright with embarrassment, but he no longer cares who sees him. It’s no secret what his father thinks of him.

He only prays his father’s opinion isn’t contagious.

He expects to find Trent loitering in the hallway waiting for him. He hopes to find no one. He needs a moment to himself to remember why it is he doesn’t take to the waves and swim as far away from the palace and his father as he can.

One reason, he knows, is because there isn’t anywhere in the sea he can go that his father can’t find him.

But also because Blaine wants to be a good king. He does have opinions about how to handle the ravaging jellyfish hordes that have been attacking unchecked for months, but his father doesn’t want to hear them.

His father wants Blaine punctual, but mostly quiet at all times.

That’s not something Blaine is prepared to do, not when it comes to the safety of his kingdom.  

That will all change when Blaine becomes king. He’ll call the shots and will answer to no one. Regardless of his immaturity at times, Blaine loves his people. He loves the ocean and every creature in it. It would be nice if, before he’s given the crown, he could make his father see him for the king he will be, not the disobedient prince Malek thinks he is.

If he could only find a way …

“Running away from responsibility again, Blaine?” a snide voice asks from the shadows.

“I’m not running away from anything,” Blaine growls, turning to face the eavesdropper leaning against the wall, legs crossed at the ankles, looking exceptionally comfortable hiding in the dark. It’s his glowing blue eyes Blaine sees first, then his golden mane of hair, and that knowing grin that Blaine so often wants to smack off his face. “Maybe you should stop hanging around where you aren’t welcome.”

“My father is still the king’s steward,” Hunter says, “so technically, I am welcome here.”

“Your father is welcome here,” Blaine sneers, “and just barely. You, on the other hand, are nothing. You have no rank and are therefore unwelcome. Permission to remain in the palace has been granted solely as a courtesy to him, but it can be repealed.”

“You know,” Hunter continues, ignoring the prince’s remarks, “you look like you’ve been under a lot of stress lately.” His eyes sweep down Blaine’s body, stopping on the scorched portions of his pants and traveling up to the burn on his forehead, staring with a curious eyebrow raised. “If you can’t handle the numerous responsibilities of being appointed Sea King, I would be more than happy to take it off of your shoulders, Prince Blaine. All you need do is ask.”

Blaine rolls his eyes at this overconfident sprite who used to be a dear friend – a long time ago before a jealous and ambitious Hunter discovered he could be next in line for the throne if anything unfortunate happened to Blaine and his father turned the position down.

“No, thank you,” Blaine says, sauntering away. “I’ve got it covered.” He stops mid-step and turns, walking back toward the cocky sprite staring daggers at Blaine’s back. “And by the way … you may want to start packing your bags, because the second I get that crown on my head, you’re out of here.”

Blaine pats Hunter’s cheek condescendingly, then walks lazily off to his room. Hunter watches Blaine swagger down the hallway and out of sight, laughing to himself.

“We’ll see,” Hunter mutters, catching a glimpse of the morose Sea King before heading in the opposite direction. “We’ll see.”