#if anything he’d blame them for literally lack of skill | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

exchangestudentmicha · 3 years ago

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I know not a lot of people probably think about this, but do you think any of the brothers that are capable of flight (Lucifer, Mammon mainly- I don't know if Asmo or Beel could logically fly) would be willing to bang Mc in the air? Idk it's just a thought I've had. No one has ever written anything for it.

Could you do headcannons or shorts for something like that with an Afab (or gn) mc?

Sure!

Obey me Flying Sex???????

Thank god this is finally done I have no idea why this took me so long, but enjoy!

I’m sorry for the weird search history Google, blame Tumblr

I know too much about birds and bugs

It turns out that almost nothing mates while in the air, and the ones that do are usually bugs that are literally stuck together for hours or D A Y S while mating. Also found out that birds usually either have no penis or A L L the penis (If you’re going to ask if I’m ok or not due to researching this stuff, the answer is no, I am scarred for life. Also why the fUCK can you find out peacock mating rituals on MARTHA STEWART’S blog of all places I’m scared)

I think that all of the characters that have wings would be able to fly, even while carrying MC, whether it be through their own wings or through magic to help them due to their lack of wingspan or whatever.

So yeah, I’d say it would be possible, but definitely not easy, with Lucifer having the easiest time due to having two sets of wings, the widest wingspan of his brothers, and being incredibly skilled in magic. Although he’s also the brother that occupies their shared braincell most of the time, and would probably ask why in the hell you would want to do that.

Beel would have the second easiest time out of the brothers in my opinion due to bug wings just giving him the ability to hover. With the main backside being that his wings are loud as shit. He would be much easier to convince than Lucifer however, especially if you bribe him with food. But in honesty he’d rather just take you against the ceiling. (Yeah Beel in his various demon forms is weird as shit, and can climb up walls)

Now Asmo would probably be the easiest to convince (hell he’d probably come to you about it) Although, due to his smaller wings, even if he has two sets like Lucifer, it wouldn’t be as easy for him. But thankfully he’s pretty well versed in magic, so that would keep y’all from falling (also the fact that he’s probably done this before)

Mammon would probably have the hardest time doing this (and to be honest has the highest chance of dropping you, don’t worry he’ll catch you) mainly due to his lack of magical skill.

AFAB MC

Warning: NSFW

Lucifer

Dude nearly choked on his drink when you asked him (honestly it was kinda funny seeing him sputter and flush like he did)

“What in the Devildom’s name made you come up with that?!”

You shrugged in response and just said that it sounded fun to you, and pointed out the fact that he probably needs a break

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, he swears that you’re gonna give him more gray hair than mammon already gives him. But even if you do, he can’t deny how absolutely smitten he is with you

So one day you find a letter on your bed, telling you to meet him on the roof of the House of Lamentation

You went up to the roof to find Lucifer in his demon form, waiting to take you into the perpetual night sky to bring your crazy ideas to life

“There you are MC, are you ready to head out?”

You watched as the lights from the buildings below grew smaller and smaller as Lucifer flew you both high up in the air. Your grip tightened against his shirt as you looked down, only looking away when you heard Lucifer chuckle at you. “Are you scared MC?” “No!” You shot back as he finally slowed down and leveled out with his flying. “So… How are we gonna do this? I mean… It looks like even just undressing will be a pain in the ass.” You half joked before seeing him smirk and then snap his fingers. You covered your bare chest when you felt the breeze against you, realizing that he just poofed away your clothes with magic. “I don’t think it’ll be much of an issue darling.” He purred as he magically removed his own clothes and brought you into his lap. You feel your face heat up as he grinds his cock against your pussy, trying to lube it up a bit with your slick before entering you. You sighed out of pleasure as he rocked his hips into yours, slowly going faster and faster as you both got used to the midair fucking. You moaned louder as you felt your climax coming, “L-Lucifer… I’m close…” He wrapped his arm around your back, pushing you against his chest as you wrapped your arms around his neck, and his free hand slid between your bodies to find your clit. You yelled out his name from the stimulation on your clit before reaching your climax with Lucifer slowly following. You both panted as y’all came down from your climaxes, “We should probably start heading back huh?” You asked, while still clinging to his chest, “Are you sure you don’t want to take in the view first?” He asked as you looked around to see the city in the distance, “I think we can stay out here a little longer.”

Mammon

The definition of “That’s a crazy idea. Insane. It doesn’t make sense.” “You’ll do it?” “Of Course.”

Even he knows its a stupid idea, but that doesn’t mean he’s against it, I mean, he’s still banging you in the process

So he dragged you to the roof of the House of Lamentation to try out your crazy idea and to maybe fly both of you to a more secluded location

“Don’t worry I won’t drop you, and umm… even if I do, I’ll make sure to catch you. What kind of first man would I be if I let you get hurt?”

“H-Hey, you’ve been getting better at your spells right?” Mammon asked as he flew you both farther into the sky, “You really didn’t plan any of this out did you?” You laughed. “You know I like to play things by ear!” “Yeah, but this isn’t gambling or one of your schemes you dork!” He scoffed in response before finally leveling out his flying. “So… How are we gonna do this?” You asked as he wrapped your legs around his waist. “Well, I have an idea.” He smirked before reaching his hand under your skirt and rubbing your slit through your underwear. You gasped in pleasure as he rubbed your pussy before he spoke up again, “You mind helping me out of these?” You chuckled a bit before undoing his pants and pulling them down just enough to pull out his cock and rub it, causing him to groan in response. He moved your panties to the side and inserted two fingers and started to rub on your clit with his thumb. “Gotta get you nice and ready for me babe…” He muttered as he kissed your neck before taking off your underwear altogether. He brought you closer and rubbed his cock on your pussy, lubing it up before he finally entered you. He groaned out as he rocked his hips into yours faster and faster. “F-Fuck… MC… I-I’m getting close!” He moaned out as you got closer to yours as well. “Come on babe, cum with me!” He groaned with one final thrust and released inside of you, with your climax shortly following. You both panted as you came down, with Mammon chuckling a bit and putting his head against yours, “We should do this more often.” You chuckled in response, “As long as you plan this out better next time.”

Asmo

“…How did I not come up with that first?”

He was astonished that you could come up with something that was just so perverted and wild before he could, but was still very eager to try it out. But first he had to make some preparations so he shoved you out of his room and told you to keep an eye on your DDD for when he was ready

Now what was he doing? Who knows. Probably trying to find the perfect spot to do it or trying to shake down Solomon for some spells that would be useful during the mid flight fucking

And a couple days later came the text to meet him on the roof

“I figured this would be a bit easier to do if you could fly as well.” he said before casting a spell that caused you to start floating

“Well… I couldn’t find one that let you fly, but levitating works just as well, after all, I can guide us with my wings.”

You yelped out in fear as you floated farther from the ground, but then felt Asmo grasp your wrist as he flew up beside you. “I can’t have you floating off away from me, now can I?” You quickly grasped onto him in fear of floating away again, Asmo giggled as you clung to him and wrapped his arms around you as he brought you higher into the air. Once you both reached a height that he deemed high enough, he let you go, minus one of your hands, to let you float around a bit beside him. You looked around to see the Devildom’s city’s skyline before feeling Asmo pressing up against your back and his head in your neck, “So how do you want to do this darling?~” “I don’t know, I’m the one who’s just actively trying not to float away.” You laughed. “That’s fair” He giggled into your ear before his hand slithered down to your crotch. “How about we start here? Hmm?” You gasped as you felt the tips of his fingers rubbing circles on your clit and his erection starting to press into your backside. You pressed back the best as you could while floating as he ground into you from behind, “Nnnn… Stop teasing me Asmo…” You whined before you finally felt him undoing your pants so that he could pull them down, “Getting impatient, are we?~” “Says the one pulling off my pants.” “Fair enough.” He said as he finally finished removing both of your clothing. “Are you ready darling?” You nodded quickly in response before finally feeling his cock slide into your entrance, you sighed out in pleasure as he rocked his hips into yours, quickly increasing his speed as you both got used to the feeling. “Ahh MC you’re so tight.” He moaned out as you neared your climax, “Ngggg… A-Asmo… I’m close…” You whined as you felt him pick up his pace, “Me too, MC… Just let go, I’ll take care of you…” You listened, letting your orgasm wash over you as you moaned out his name. Asmo turned you around to face him before kissing you, “We should do this more often.” He giggled.

Beel

“…Why?

He doesn’t have anything against doing that, he’s just confused on why you would want to do that

Now once you explain that you’re mainly just curious and it sounds like fun he agrees, as long as you can go by Madame Scream’s afterwards since y’all will already be out. (Honestly even if you said no to Madame Scream’s he’d still go with you anyways)

You say sure and ya’ll go out to the roof and he goes into his demon form

“My wings tend to be pretty loud when I’m flying so I hope you don’t mind.”

His wings buzzed to life as he began to hover off of the roof, he wasn’t kidding when he said they were loud, they almost sounded like a goddamn helicopter except not as deafening. “Sorry if they’re too loud.” He said as he picked you up off the roof, “It’s fine, it’s not that bad anyways.” You said as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He smiled and nuzzled into your neck before flying higher in the sky. You looked around a bit before feeling Beel start to nibble on your neck, “You hungry big boy?” You chuckled as you leaned into him, “I’m always hungry, especially when there’s a tasty snack right here.” He purred before finally taking a proper bite into your neck. You tried to hold back your moan as he licked on the bite mark he gave you and tugged your legs around his waist. You felt his erection grind into you before you pushed on his chest a bit, he pulled back with a confused look before your hands went down to his pants. You took off his pants with his help before he took off yours as well. He pressed his cock up against you, “Are you ready MC?” He asked, to which you immediately nodded in response. He slid his cock against your pussy to lube it up before entering you with a low groan, with you softly moaning as well. He slowly rocked his hips into yours, careful not to hurt you with his size, “Nghhhh, Beel, faster…” you whined before Beel shifted his grip on your thighs and started to go faster. You moaned into his chest as you felt him start to nip into your neck once again. You grasped his hair as you started to near your climax, “B-Beel… I’m close…” you moaned out, hearing him hum in agreement as he kept fucking into you, finally letting you reach your climax with Beel shortly following. You both hovered there in silence as you came down from both of your climaxes before you finally broke the silence, “So, do you wanna head off to Madam Screams?” He shook his head as he started to fly back to the House of Lamentation, “I want something else for dessert.” He said as you felt your face heat up.

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miekasa · 4 years ago

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winter break/skiing au with eren

↯ pairing: eren jaeger x (fem) reader

↯ genres and warnings: modern au (college), fluff, eren is an idiot but we all knew that, and yes i do think he’d probably be a good snowboarder or athlete in general tbh

↯ word count: 2.7k lol and it’s not even written out like a fic

↯ notes: this is based off of a request i got for meeting eren at a ski lodge. heads up i know next to nothing about skiing or any related sport, so bear with me on this. also this formatting is... headcanonish but also fic like?? in an alternate timeline, i could write this out as a fic, but my lack of knowledge about the subject + me wanting to try this format out resulted in this!

If he’s being completely honest, Eren wasn’t ecstatic to be going on this skiing trip with his friends in the first place, but he didn’t have much choice, seeing as he didn’t want to be the only one left behind for winter break.

Not to mention he’s a shit skier. He’s fine with a snowboard, so he wouldn’t be stuck on the bunny hills for a week, but that didn’t mean he was happy about it. After all, he was pushing to go somewhere warm for break. You know, since it was already freezing cold at home.

Nevertheless, he sucks it up for the sake of his friends’ happiness (and because he was severely outnumbered. Also because Armin had never been skiing and Eren really wanted to record him falling face first into the snow at some point).

As expected, it’s fucking freezing by the time they make it to the lodge, but at least Jean—resident organizer of this trip—had gotten them a pretty nice cabin with central heating, and a fireplace. It’s more of a house that they’re renting really, with enough rooms for the six of them.

Unfortunately the rooms were not soundproof so he was subject to hearing Jean and Connie staying up until the crack of dawn, and Mikasa throwing pillows at Sasha telling her to shut the fuck up. But at least he got to room with Armin, so it wasn’t all bad.

Eren spends the first day just chilling around, still warming up to the idea of the trip (and warming up physically, because fuck is it cold here). The lodge itself has main, communal buildings with indoor activities—a game room, indoor pools, hot tubs, a buffet, the whole nine yards—that he spends time exploring.

He’s heading down to the indoor pool with Armin and Jean in tow, the rest of his friends opting to head upstairs for dinner first after their day of skiing; and that’s where he sees you. And, not to sound like a lovestruck idiot, but Eren thinks you might be the prettiest person he’s ever seen in his life.

In a cliche moment, he catches you as your head reemerges from out of the water, face dripping wet with pool water as you tread in your spot. Eren looks stupid—big, green eyes wide as hell and a little bit of a gap between his lips.

Jean has to smack him upside the head to get him walking again, mumbling about how Eren looks like the literal heart eyes emoji to which Eren simply pushes the taller boy into the water.

He looks back to spot you again (in a non-creepy manner of course), when a voice calls out your name—he’s presuming, by the way your turn your head.

“You’ll turn into a prune if you stay in any longer,” a short man with dark hair calls to you, a towel around his shoulder his mostly dry body, save for his swimming shorts that are still damp, “Come on, I don’t want get the shit end of the stick at the buffet.”

The short man’s words seem to make you chuckle, and a little reluctantly, you swim to the edge of the pool, taking his hand to get out of the water. Eren frowns a bit watching the interaction. You and the short man seem close—there go his chances of… well, he’s not sure exactly… uh… talking to you, maybe?

Whatever it was, you might already have a boyfriend, and from the way the rest of, who Eren is again presuming to be, your friends walk with you to the exit, it doesn’t seem like he’d ever find you alone again.

Oh well. He sighs, trying not to think much of it, and enjoy his time in the pool. (He fucking doesn’t because Jean gets his revenge and pushes him in the deep and even Armin his him with a pool noodle. Traitor).

Day two he’s finally going to to the slopes. On his way up in the lift, he can see Sasha and Connie stumbling down the hill while Jean laughs behind them, and Eren only shakes his head.

Yeah, maybe they shouldn’t have taken Sasha, Connie, and Armin with them on the advanced hills, but it was so much more fun this way. Although, to his credit, Armin was catching on quickly (no thanks to Eren or Jean; that was all Mikasa’s teachings).

Eren lets Mikasa work her magic with Armin. He straps on his helmet and goggles, and heads down first. It’s been a while since he’s snowboarded, but he’s still pretty damn good if he does say so himself. He even tries out a few old tricks and—not to brag—but sticks his landing every time.

Halfway down the slope, he can feel someone else boarding beside him—and he doesn’t think much of it, until they replicate his previous flip, landing a just a little in front of him.

Eren can’t see the person through their goggles, but from the way they look back at him before pushing forward, he can tell that they wanted a challenge. And who is Eren to turn down a little friendly competition?

The descent continues on with Eren and his mystery partner not-so-subtly flexing their own skills. Eren copies their flips and turns, and is amazed as he watches them copy his in return.

He decides to kick it up a notch, swerving over to a small snow rap, to use the height it gives him to pull off his signature move—yes it’s called the Jaegerbomb, yes he did come up with it when he was eleven, and no he doesn’t regret because it’s still sick as fuck, shutup Zeke.

He sticks his landing, perfectly timed with the end of the slope, pushing his board forward to completely stop himself. He turns around, lifting his goggles, to give his copycat a smug look, when, to his surprise, he sees them pulling off something almost equally as impressive, and probably more complex before they land.

Eren’s got the same stupid, starstruck look on his face as he did in the pool, as he watching their momentum come to a stop a little ways downhill from him, because, fuck if that wasn’t the coolest thing he’s ever seen.

Immediately, they’re surrounded by two other bodies, both of which sing their praises, probably for that last move. Eren knows he would. It’s only after your goggles are pushed up over your helmet and your turn around that Eren realizes its you! The girl from the pool.

If he was awestruck before, it’s nothing compared how he’s feeling now. No way you were the same person! But, he has to admit, if we were gonna get crushed by anybody on the slopes, he’s glad it was a pretty girl.

To his surprise, you make your way over to him after unbuckling from your board, and Eren has to quickly shake the stupid look off of his face.

“I guess I lost our race back there,” you say with a smile, cloudy air falling from your lips from the cold, “But I just wanted to tell you that your last flip was really cool! It must have taken you forever to master that.”

For the first time since arriving, Eren’s glad it’s cold as shit, because now at least he has a coverup for the redness creeping onto his cheeks. With a nervous chuckle, he finally responds, “Yeah, I’ve, uh, kinda been working on it since I was eleven.”

“Well it definitely payed off, I’ve never seen anything like it,” you cheer, and Eren is really considering passing out right now, but that would not be cool. Very uncool. So he doesn’t. “Have you been boarding that long?”

“Yeah! I mean, well, I’m only 21, so I guess not that long,” Eren says with a nervous chuckle, “Well—uh, I guess, like, ten years is a long time, but I—I used to snowboard more often when I was little with my family, then, um, you know college got in the way in stuff… haha… yeah.”

Okay, fine, Eren has never been the smoothest guy in the world, but he’s usually not this awkward either. But can you really blame him?—between your looks, and your skills, and the fact that you actually came over to initiate and carry out a conversation with him, he was a goner from the start.

“I’m Eren, by the way,” he continues, hoping to cover up his awkward stuttering, “And, uh, you must have been doing this for a while too? Your last move was sick, I’ve never seen anything like it!”

“(Y/N),” you respond with a smile. Luckily for him, you don’t seem completely turned off by his awkward demeanor, still as bubbly as ever. “Not really… well, kind of? Maybe a few years at this point, but my teacher’s been a real hardass, so I learned to pick up on things pretty quick unless I wanted to get turned into a human snowball,” you tell him, turning your shoulder a bit to point back at your friends, “If you think what I did was good, you gotta see Levi—he’s the short one yelling at the one with the pigtails. He taught me everything I know.”

Eren recognizes Levi as the shorter man who helped you out of the pool yesterday. He deflates a little—he’d kind of forgotten about him, and he isn’t too happy to be reminded of him again.

“Oh, I see,” Eren nods, glancing over at Levi once more, “He must be a pretty good teacher.”

“When he’s not throwing snowballs as a learning tool, yeah he is,” you laugh, “Anyways, I actually wanted to ask if you wanted to go at it again sometime. I don’t know how long you’re, uh, staying or anything, but racing with you was fun. Even if you did get a bit of a head start.”

“I’m here for the week, actually,” Eren’s eyes practically shine at the hint of competitiveness in your voice. He loves to be challenged, after all. “But I don’t mind giving it a go right now, if you’re going up again?”

Eren has to stop himself from grinning like an idiot when you accept his invitation. He thinks he’s finally in the clear when he hears the short man—Levi—call out your name again.

To his surprise, you beckon Eren along with you, and you introduce him to Levi formally. Levi has to look up to look at Eren, but Eren’s the one who shrinks under his gaze; an embarrassed flush creeping up his neck. Damn, your teacher (friend, too? not boyfriend, apparently, though?) is intimidating as hell, how on Earth do you take lessons from him without buckling in fear??

You point to your other friends—Isabel and Farlan—who are standing a little further away. The former of whom is attempting to make a snow angel while the blonde is enthusiastically recording and taking pictures of the events.

After introducing the two, you ask Levi if he wants to up the hill with the both you again (and no, Eren doesn’t pout when you extend the offer to him—he’s really working on this keeping his feelings in check and being a rational thinker and all that and if you ask him it’s paying off), to which Levi declines (thank god).

Not even because Eren would be bummed if you didn’t get that he wanted to spend some more time alone with you not just to snowboard, but also because he knows he’d fall flat on his face in front of Levi, and then he’d probably have to hide in shame for the rest of his trip.

“Looks like it’s just us then,” you smile at him, “Okay, we can head back up—I’m just gonna ask Isabel to trade gloves with me real quick, yeah? And steal a heat pack from her.”

Eren doesn’t know if he should follow you over to Isabel, so he kind of shuffles around where he’s standing, a few feet next to Levi. (And damn, is it just Eren or is it suddenly 50 degrees colder next to this man).

Eren’s avoiding eye contact and small talk—and subsequently avoiding any bubbling feelings or irrational false suspicions about Levi. Also, he sucks at small talk.

It’s Levi who lets out an exasperated sigh first, not even bothering to turn to face Eren before bluntly saying, “She’s single.”

Eren’s eyes go wide and he’s sputtering in embarrassment—also because Levi said it so loudly, what if you heard??—but he’s cut off again before he can even speak: “Don’t even try it, Farlan and I saw you drooling over her at the pool, too.”

Well, now Eren’s certain that the blush on his face and neck are not from the cold, but from his complete and utter humiliation. “Well, I, uh, I didn’t mean to—”

“You don’t seem to be too great at this, so I’ll take pity on you and tell you she likes you, too. Or likes you enough, at least,” Levi continues.

“I—she does?” Eren blurts. Okay, now he’s probably being too loud.

“She talked to you didn’t she,” Levi says, but the question comes out as more of a deadpan observation, “Look if she asks you about anything while you’re up there—or better yet, asks you to teach her anything, just take it as an opening, alright kid? Trust me, there’s nothing you can do that she can’t.”

Ouch. Eren reasons that Levi is probably right, he’s only seen you board once but you’re pretty incredibly but, still.

Wait does that mean you really were flirting with him before?? You’re actually interested in him???

He hears you calling out to him, and sees you waving, gesturing towards the lifts with a new pair of bright blue mittens on, and Eren barely has the coherency to wave back (stupidly, slowly, lovestruck, like an idiot).

Levi watches the exchange with a bored look on his face. He sighs audibly this time, untucking his arms from where they were crossed over his chest to pick up the snowboard at his feet. “Cabin 24C, east wing. Bring her back after dinner,” he says, hoisting the board under his arm before walking towards Farlan and Isbael.

Eren doesn’t even have time to ask him anymore questions—plus you’ve started walking towards the lifts and he’s obviously not going to leave you hanging.

He doesn’t and your little ski-lift, snowboarding kind of date goes well, even if he’s positive you did take it easy on him.

You’re the one to ask him to go up one more time, when Eren remembers Levi’s advice and finally musters up the courage to ask: “Actually, I’m a little hungry—do you, uh, maybe wanna head inside for dinner? If you’re still up to, we can come back later.”

And when the evening is over and Eren’s gotten your number, he does in fact walk you back to your lodge with your friends, and he thinks that even Levi gave him a look of approval before slamming the door in his face.

(It wasn’t really approval, so much as he’s impressed Eren had the balls and critical thinking skills to actually ask you out in the end. But it’s fine because Farlan and Isabel both loudly told him how happy they were to see you’d scored a date with ‘emerald eyes from the pool’).

Mikasa and Armin are less than impressed when Eren comes back to his own lodge at damn near midnight after having not answered any of their calls all day, but Eren thinks it was worth it, even if he does have a bruise from Armin poking him in the side with his ski poles.

Eren meets you at the slopes every day for the rest of the week, ignoring Jean and Connie’s claims about him being a simp. So what if he is? He’s the one snowboarding and sipping hot chocolate with the pretty girl from pool at the end of the day isn’t he?

He learns that the both of you attend the same university, but are in almost opposite programs. That makes sense, Eren thinks, because he surely would have remembered seeing you on campus before.

You even get along with his friends really well, even if you only get the opportunity to meet them once at the lodge. Eren is more than impressed, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen Mikasa warm up to someone so quickly.

He thinks he’s pretty successful at meeting your friends, too. Isabel and Farlan continually reassure him that you do in fact have a crush on him (and maybe even persuade him try and kiss you before the week is over. Spoiler: he does, while it’s snowing and everything and it’s pretty damn great).

On the last day of his trip, Eren takes you to the top of the hill with all his friends, and when you completely demolish Jean and leave him eating your dust, Eren thinks he might just be halfway in love with you already.

#aot x reader #snk x reader #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren x you #aot imagines #snk imagines #eren smut #eren fluff #levi x reader #levi ackerman best wingman obviously #not really he just couldnt bear to see the both you be so painfully awkward with eachother bye #but hey he helped at the end of the day

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sjjdkdkwo · 4 years ago

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Based off this prompt (#735) from @ironstrangeprompts

——

“Slick his hair back!”

“No! No! It looks better down!”

“Ugh! Absolutely not! And what’s with that tie!? I thought we agreed all black was the best choice!”

“He’s going to an auction not a funeral, you fool!”

“I say we forgo the suit all together and have him go casual!”

In all his years practicing the mystic arts, Stephen never once thought his vocation in sorcery would one day lead to him standing half naked in a room surrounded by various old men giving him fashion advice.

“All of you, quiet!” Wong called out amongst the commotion, silencing all the residents in the room at once. “Besides, what he wears is the least of our problems. What we need to worry about is his seduction skills, or should I say, lack thereof.”

Wong eyed him disdainfully, crossing his arms and shaking his head at him. Stephen scoffed, spreading his arms out in indignation as the masters around him flittered about.

“Well he’s going to have to learn soon, or we’ll never get the relic.” Master Dee said as he circled around Stephen, leering over him and reaching out squeeze one of Stephen’s biceps. To the other side of him Master Lhamo leaned in to squint at Stephen’s bottom from behind his glasses—and gave it a firm pinch.

“Excuse you!” Stephen cried out, jumping away from them as he turned a bright shade of red. “That’s enough! I will not be subjected to manhandling for a relic that — in case you needed reminding—for all we know could have been rendered nugatory after years of obsolescence!”

“Need we remind you, that regardless of whether or not the relic is still functioning—“ Master Zam growled, his tone leaving no room for argument. “—If whoever gets their hands on it finds a way to get it to work again, they could potentially wipe out all existing life as we know it!”

Stephen sniffed, turning to look away. Logically he knew the masters were right, now that they’d been made aware of the relic and what it could do, it was of utmost importance that they retrieved it before landed in the wrong hands. The only problem was it’s current location and keeper—the Maria Stark foundation. Worse then, they’d come to find out that not only did the MSF hold proprietorship over the relic, they were looking to auction it off to any bidder with enough money to get it too.

The even bigger problem with that was that the order was, for lack of a better word—well, broke. So painfully and terribly broke.

Realizing this is what had brought forth their current plan into fruition—the seduction of Maria Stark’s only son in order to retrieve said relic; Anthony Edward Stark. Unfortunately for all of them however, their plan was proving harder to carry out than they’d at first perceived. First and foremost was the fact that the idea of trying to trick Tony into developing any sort of attraction toward him under false pretenses, didn’t sit well with Stephen. At all. Secondly, there was also Stephen’s shortage of dating from now to all the way back to the days of the accident. It wasn’t really that Stephen lacked the proper skills to charm the pants (literally) off Tony Stark, per say, rather that he lacked the ability to carry them out through his new withdrawn and modest disposition. Which is how he had ended up here, enduring dating tips from people older than the Hindenburg disaster.

Stephen sighed and pinched the bride of his nose, nodding and plastering on a sardonic smile as he looked around the room. “Very well. Please. As Wong said, I need all the help I can get.”

“Bah!” Master Tenzin cried out, smacking his hand across Stephen’s back with a bright laugh and causing him choke on his own spit. “Don’t you worry, Stephen, I’ll have you know I was quite the lady charmer before my days in the order. Why the women practically swarmed toward me like bees to honey!”

“More like flies to dung.” Master Dee sniggered beside him, elbowing Stephen in the side as he laughed—it seemed neither of them new the meaning of personal space.

Stephen could only offer him a wry smile in return as Master Tenzin waved the other man off, stepping in front of Stephen instead.

“Hush, you. Now, pretend I’m Stark, young, handsome and ready for the taking.” He said, reaching up a hand to floof his imaginary hair while sticking his hips out seductively.

“I think you mean ancient, ugly and ready for the grave!” Master Dee called out beside him, trying in no way to hide the obnoxious laughter that followed.

“You shut your mouth! Stephen needs to focus if he wants to score tonight.” Master Tenzin rebuked, shaking his fist in resentment at his fellow master before looking back to wink playfully at Stephen. “Pay him no mind, Stephen. Just focus on me. Now—” Tenzin’s voice lowered down an octave before he spoke again. “What’s a big strong handsome man like you doing here, hmm?”

Stephen shuddered in disgust and turned to glare at Wong who merely shrugged. Maybe the destruction of all life in the universe wouldn’t be so bad after all.

—

After three long tedious hours of role-playing with Master Tenzin, (along with rude commentary from Master Dee) Stephen was even less sure of himself than he had been before as he stood between the crowd of gala attendees. After almost bumping into the fifth person that night in trying to look for Stark, Stephen opted instead to make his way to the bar. Only to actually bump into someone just as he was about to reach the counter. spilling the person’s drink all over them in the processes. Fantastic.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Stephen mumbled, clumsily trying to wipe down the other person’s shirt with shaky hands. He hoped the tremors weren’t too noticeable, but he also knew his sudden nervousness was only making them worse. “I didn’t mean to—let me—if there’s anything I can do?”

Stephen winced at his lack of eloquence.

“Maybe stop trying to do whatever this is? Pretty sure you’re making it worse.” The person chuckled, and Stephen finally decided to look up from his poor attempts at cleaning up his mess, only to find none other than Tony Stark himself. “Another drink wouldn’t hurt either.”

Stephen could only stare dumbfounded as he tried to say something in response. Retracting his hands he finally settled on: “You don’t drink.”

Tony raised a brow, pursing his lips and nodding. It wasn’t a secret these days that Tony Stark held an aversion towards alcohol after years of battling substance abuse. Still, Stephen didn’t think stating obvious facts about the man to his own face could be counted as flirting. It seemed Tony agreed, if the amused expression on his face was anything to go by. “Alcohol, yeah. But…I wouldn’t say no to some water?”

“Right. That was um…” Stephen swallowed and tried to remember what the masters had told him prior to coming to the event. All at once their words swarmed his head in a bewildering mess and Stephen tried to pick out something suitable from the muddle of instructions. “Your eyes are as hard as your body.”

Stephen wished each of the masters a terrible case of bowel obstruction that night.

“Excuse me?” Tony asked, furrowing his brow as he tentatively stepped back an inch. “I think your the one who ought to worry about his own drinking habits, pal.”

“No, please—“ Stephen’s hand lifted slightly before he thought better of it and kept it firmly in its place at his side. “Sorry its just, been a while since I’ve been to one of these things. I guess you could say I’m nervous?”

Tony’s face softened a bit before he placed a gentle hand on one Stephen’s shoulders and guided him to the far off left side of the bar counter, and away from everyone else. “Well, lucky for you I spend nearly half my time at these things. Allow me to help you settle back in.”

“Thanks.” Stephen mumbled, turning to call over the bartender only for Tony to brush him off and order for them himself.

“Water and…?”

“Water.”

Tony squinted dubiously at Stephen, repeating his words to the bartender before looking back at him. A moment of silence passed before Tony started to drum his fingers against the counter. Stephen strategically kept his own hands tucked between his thighs.

“So, not much of a drinker yourself, then?” Tony asked, flashing Stephen a blithe smile.

Not if I want to be in control of my magic, no. Stephen thought.

“Not for a while, no.” He said aloud instead. “Sorry, how rude of me, I just realized I haven’t even told you my name.”

He didn’t reach out a hand for Tony to shake; he didn’t need yet another person’s pity after seeing the state of his damaged hands. “I’m Doctor Stephen Strange.”

“Tony Stark.” The other man responded easily.

“I know that.” Stephen smiled.

“Maybe, but I’m trying not to assume things like that these days.” Tony said, muttering thanks when the bartender came over with their drinks. “Correct me if I’m wrong however, but last I heard Doctor Stephen Strange disappeared off the map completely after a rather nasty car accident. Or am I thinking of another Doctor Stephen Strange?”

To the onlooker Tony appeared to be nothing but carefree and relaxed in his current company. But Stephen could see the way his body tensed just so, and the suspicious gleam in his eye as he smiled tersely at him. Ever the futurist indeed, Stephen wondered if he’d bumped into him on purpose to better survey him. Stephen couldn’t blame him though; he could only assume what kind of paranoia’s followed a man who’d been kidnapped, betrayed and attacked all in half a lifetime. Even so, Stephen found himself unwilling to reply, his own insecurities and fears teetering around the edges of his mind, besides; perhaps it was best to let Tony take the lead in things. Maybe the spurious sense of control would be enough to aid him in accomplishing his task of retrieving the relic from the other man.

“So tell me, what are you doing here, Doctor Strange.” Tony continued after a beat of Stephen’s silence. Reaching over he picked up his glass to take a sip, eyes never leaving Stephen as he did.

“I’m here for the auction like everyone else.” Stephen answered mindfully.

“Really now…” Tony dragged out the words as a heedful smirk made its way over his features before his gaze roamed over Stephen’s face, looking for any signs of ambiguity. “I can’t help but wonder how you’re even going to partake in tonight’s main event, given that you’re broke now and all.”

Stephen sucked in a harsh breath and tried not to let the flippant words get to him. He still had a job to do regardless, and if that meant putting up with Tony’s glib attitude then he had no choice but to accept every word thrown at him. He closed his eyes and counted backwards from ten before opening them again to look at Tony with his best enticing smile. Leaning forward he settled his mouth against Tony’s ear, just scarcely brushing his lips over his lobule.

“If you take me somewhere more private, I could show you.” He whispered provocatively, enjoying the sound of Tony’s breathe hitching as he made out the sight of the man’s body shivering from the corner of his eye. “What do you say, Mr. Stark?”

—

Stephen cried out as Tony all but flung him onto the bed, and leaned over him to press desperate kisses against his neck. Stephen moaned softly, trying to press back against Tony when he felt the other man grind down against him until a sudden feeling of revulsion and erring washed over him.

“Stop.” He cried out weakly, shaky hands pressing up against Tony’s chest. “Stop...”

“What?” Tony murmured against the side of his face.

“I said stop. Please.” Stephen said, louder this time.

In an instant Tony was crawling off of him, moving to his side and giving him ample room away from him on the bed. His face was scrunched up in overt worry but Stephen found he couldn’t look at him in that moment, instead turning to look at the ceiling and reaching up to cover his face in his hands.

“Hey, you ok?” He heard Tony ask quietly from the other side of the bed. Stephen also heard him slide off it after a long pause of silence. “Right, ok. I’m sorry, really, I just want to know if you’re ok. Or…do you want me to leave? Cause I can leave if you need that, just say the word and—“

Stephen let out a pitiful laugh from behind his hands before whining in self-pity. “No, it’s not you. I just—I’m sorry but I can’t do this to you.”

“Um, I’m pretty sure I wanted this.” Tony chuckled nervously. “Like, really wanted this.”

“That’s exactly the problem.” Stephen mumbled.

“How is that a problem?”

“Because I’m using you.” Stephen said, pulling his hands away and pushing himself onto his elbows to look at Tony dejectedly. Tony made a non committal hum, cradling his chin with his fingers as though to appear deep in thought.

“Maybe, but you know, I’m pretty fine with being used by you.” Tony grinned, still flushed from his earlier tumble with Stephen.

“You don’t understand.” Stephen shook his head. “I’m supposed to be getting your mothers vase.”

Tony blinked stupidly at him before slumping back against the wall with a bemused expression.

“Huh, that’s a first.” He muttered under his breath. He nodding like he knew exactly what Stephen was talking about. “So what, you figured the best way to do that would be to sleep with me?”

Stephen could see the mental hurtles he was going through in that moment and decided to take pity on him.

“Not me, it was actually my colleague’s idea.” Stephen said as he got off the bed and bumped his hands twice together before twin mandala’s sparked to life in front of him and submerged the room in a soft yellow glow. Before he knew it, the blue flare of one of Tony’s repulsors’ was merging with the phosphorescence of his magic to illuminate the space around them as well.

“You have about ten seconds to explain before I turn you into dust particles.” Tony bit out harshly, any traces of nonchalance and playfulness long gone as he aimed the repulsor straight at Stephen’s face.

“I’m not here to cause trouble.” Stephen said, his own features taking on a more serious note.

“One.” Tony countered.

“But you have to listen to me, the fate of the universe depends on it.”

“Two.” Tony continued. “Three.”

“Please! The vase you’re auctioning off tonight, it’s not just any antique decoration!” Stephen tried to cut to the chase, but there was so only so much he could explain under Tony’s impossible time limit. “It’s an ancient artifact that could destroy all life as we know it!

“Four, five, Six…”

“Stop that!”

“Seveneightnineten.” Tony finished pointedly before his frown deepened. “Time’s up. Sorry, but that’s a bullshit excuse if I ever heard one. And I’ve heard a lot.”

“Please! Just give me a chance to prove it to you! That’s all I ask!” Stephen pleaded; firm and steady even with Tony threatening his life.

Something in his expression must have exuded some semblance of sincerity—or perhaps it was more like desperation— as Tony lowered his arm some, analyzing Stephen through his suspicion like before.

“Let’s say I do believe you—“

“I should hope so.” Stephen murmured. Tony lifted his hand back again, flashing the light of the repulsor directly into Stephen’s eyes once more. “Right, not the best time to joke around.”

Tony let out a sarcastic chuckle, smiling at him snidely.

“Great observation, Merlin.” He taunted. “Anyway, even if I do decide to go along with this, how the hell are you going to prove to me that, that vase is some sort of evil portal or whatever?”

Stephen fought back the urge to correct Tony’s statement and forced himself to swallow his pride. He offered him a jaded smile in return and lowered his hands in hope of manifesting the appearance of solidarity between them.

“If you take me somewhere more private, I could show you.” He repeated his words from earlier, softer and lighter this time around.

Tony lowered his arm, brown eyes easing with back somewhat into their familiar teasing vigilance. He smirked apprehensively at Stephen, letting his gaze rake over him in intrigue. Almost as though he was being presented with a new and exciting and project. Stephen supposed he was. He didn’t move as Tony walked over and leaned in close to his ear like he had done to him before.

“Do me wrong, and you won’t live to regret it.” He warned harshly before his tone took on a huskier tone. “Do my right, and maybe I’ll let you do me in other ways afterwards.”

Stephen let out a shaky breath. He was definitely going to rub this in the masters, and Wong’s faces once this was all said and done. For now, he’d gladly work with Tony to retrieve the dangerous artifact and move on to more pressing, or rather, pleasing matters.

#ironstrange #Stephen Strange #Doctor Strange #Tony Stark #Iron Man #prompt fill #this is my way of avoiding what I'm writing #because I can't figure out how write it #assume this is an au where they haven't met #or Thanos never happened or something #idk #also I’ve seen a lot of concepts where the masters hate or look down on Stephen #but I thought it be nice for a change if they ended becoming like #his weird funny grandparents or something #who care about him in a #your a big knucklehead but your our big knucklehead kinda way #you know what I mean?

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tehmoonofficial · 4 years ago

Text

five is bad at camping.

you’d think, this is Five Hargreeves we’re talking about! he spent 45 years in the apocalypse! of course he’d be great at surviving outdoors.

but five, five who was thirteen (or ten, in the comics) and never faced a consequence for anything from literal murder to ripping the fabric of space into neat little portals, has found himself One Big Consequence when he appears on april 2nd, 2019.

and so he waits. he waits for his powers to return, as they always do, so he can just traipse back home and tell reginald exactly what just happened, if it wasn’t a dream or a hallucination to begin with; yeah, a prank, it must be, his siblings can’t be twenty-somethings and dead.

so he remembers some training, some recitation on a record, about what to do when abandoned with no resources. so he shoves it down deep, because it’d be ridiculous to actually be in an apocalypse. stupid. hilarious.

he gets better over the years. doesn’t want to admit it, that’s for sure. if—when—if he gets out of here, this will be just a blip. him and dolores will be out of here, back when it all started, so he can prevent it from ever happening in the first place, because it’s a prank, a dream, really, a hallucination of his scrambled mind from time travel. he gets better, better at finding food and setting up shelter and weaving his way through equations he finds in thick astrophysics books widely regarded as fanatical.

second, it’s the commission. they tell him how to do things he already knows, give him faces of numbers to, er, correct, and fuck around with his dna until he’s just a pile of twisted, twisted ladders, ladders that lead to the inky black soul of a mass murderer. he keeps his sister’s book on hand, uses a pencil down to a clumsy stub so he can finally wake up from this nightmare. he’s 58, fifty-fucking-eight, and his siblings actually died at twenty-nine, didn’t they? he’s not letting that happen, even if it takes him another 45 goddamned years.

five is bad at not killing people, it appears. funny, a mass murderer trying to stop billions from dying. untangling this mess of a mystery feels like plucking individual notes out of an arrangement the commission desperately wants to accompany. he’s trapped, between the sixteenth notes and the lack of rest, and hell, he’s out of tune now that he looks thirteen again.

if he closes his eyes, he might be able to forget. he might be able to reopen them and see a world where april first is just a fun holiday he celebrated with his siblings when he was little.

he can’t. it was real. is real. and these two weeks have been the longest in his entire life.

last, when it’s finally all over and done with, his siblings are cautious to ask him if he wants to go camping with them. out in the woods, where it’s fatally silent. vanya’s the one to do it, grief in her eyes and heart from what she’s caused in the past. she still blames herself for it all, even when the handler conducted it all, even when she was little and a simple crescendo and a crack of glass led to her believing she was completely ordinary. she wants to help five, help them all, into feeling like a family again.

he agrees. the car ride is long and slow, klaus and diego sharing earbuds until allison gives a big speech about enjoying things as a group and then luther is screeching off-key lyrics of tiffany. five watches the pines grow thicker and knows, knows logically speaking, that there were no forests like this in the apocalypse. he’s safe. he’s safe.

they split up into groups once they get to the area of the camp site they’re staying at. five and klaus are in charge of setting up the tents. nobody says why they specifically are in charge of this; nobody has to.

klaus sets up his half of them with ease. it’s methodical and quick, muscle memory. life skills of war. a thing expected from five.

but five, as stated earlier, is notably bad at camping. it’s a statement now, and he commits to it as he fumbles with bars and cloth and whatever the fuck that is that he’s supposed to use to build it with.

“what, fivesie, never set up one of these bad boys?” klaus asks with his usual trademark blend of masking humor and observation.

“no, klaus, i just choose to be bad at it.” five snaps back. he doesn’t really get why he snarked like that, why it’s so frustrating. shit, this was supposed to be the smooth part. all the hard bits were supposed to be over.

“hm,” klaus hums, walking over and straightening a stake. “i guess you can allow yourself to do that now, be bad at something. how does it feel?”

five freezes. his eyebrows draw together and he looks inward. it feels... cloudy, confusing, infuriating that it’s confusing.

“freeing.” he decides upon. “it feels freeing.”

#:’)#tua #the umbrella academy #umbrella academy #ua #klaus hargreeves #five hargreeves #tua fic #five #number five hargreeves #luther hargreeves #diego hargreeves #allison hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #poor ben.. hes Gone :((((((#cant tag him in this then #the handler #the commission

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secret-rendezvous1d · 4 years ago

Note

Omg omg omg That last Spencer ask you replied to- I can’t- I. Literally. Can’t. I’m in tears 😭😭 could you keep it going with the scene in the hospital? Instead of Garcia taking care of Spencer and shooting the one unsub it’s y/n and she’s so on the edge with all that adrenaline from the day that she collapses on Spencer’s hospital bed? Or a scene of her taking him home afterwards and looking after him?xxx you literally save my day with your blurbs

Okay, this one hurt me more-

Long blurb, I know... but I’m not sorry for that. This spewed out of me like a bunch of word vomit so I do apologise for lack of sense but I’m not sorry for the length.

* mentions of guns, injury, hospitals, drugs/medication *

“It should have been me.”

Blake admits with such a tentative tone, like she was terrified of an explosive confrontation over something she already felt terribly about, her eyes bouncing around the room so she could look at anything by YN’s worried face. The long silence of the waiting room being broken by her timid confession.

“It could have been anyone. It’s just his luck that it happened to him,” YN says, a soft smile on her lips as she looks up from picking her fingernails and aims her emotions towards the nervous woman opposite her, “it could have been me, it could have been any one of us-”

“He pushed me out the way,” she clarifies, “it should have been me.”

YN can see the guilt written across her face and it broke her to bits; there was no reason for blame to be put on anyone and there was no need for the ‘what should have happened’s and the ‘who it should’ve been’s and YN wasn’t going to let Blake blame herself as the reason why Spencer was shot in the field. The downside to the job, whilst it looked thrilling and managed to keep you on your toes, was knowing that anything like this could happen at any moment and they had to take it as it came and not dwell on when or how it would happen to who ever was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Spencer just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Don’t blame yourself,” YN sits up in her chair and reaches over, placing her hand on Blake’s knee and squeezing in reassuringly, “I don’t blame you for what happened and Spencer definitely wouldn’t blame you for what happened.”

“Won’t,” she retorts at YN’s use of tenses and it made the young girl stiffen in her seat. She’d really spoken as if all of her hope and her faith had fizzled away, like he he wasn’t going to survive the chances, and she wanted to slap herself on the wrist for delving that deep. For not believing in the strength he had to get through. “He won’t blame me.”

“He won’t,” YN repeats, “he’ll make it through. Spence is a strong guy, he won’t give up without a fight.”

She gives her Blake’s knee one more reassuring squeeze and she gives her a tight-lipped smile, because she really couldn’t bear to be happy and give off a bright spark under the circumstances, before she sat back and took a look at the clock. He’d been under for almost two hours and YN was beginning to lose all track of existence, like time was slipping away and becoming something that never existed, lost in her thoughts.

They still had so much they wanted to do together.

They wanted to travel the world together and create a book full of memories on how they spent their time in different countries and Spencer taught her about all of the different cultures, they poke about marriage and the kind of wedding they wanted to have, they spoke about having kids and threw around some of their favourite baby names like she was about to give birth, and he’d brought them tickets to a film festival that he had been eager to take her to and that she had been excited to go to because it was a date night and special date nights were rare when working in the Behavioural Analysis Unit of the FBI; they took any chance they got to treat each other and spend time with one another outside of the office.

What felt like another two hours had really one been twenty minutes when they were given permission to see him.

“How is he?”

YN stands to her feet in a haste, grabbing the bag full of Spencer’s belongings as the surgeon came to a halt in the middle of the waiting room. His explanation waiting until YN was fully stood in front of him so she could take in what he was about to tell her, her mind expecting the worst but her heart expecting the good news she had been silently manifesting and praying for.

“He’s incredibly lucky,” the surgeon explains, “two millimetres to the right and the bullet would have torn through the carotid artery.”

And he didn’t have to speak in Layman's terms for YN to understand just how lucky he really was. Watching him get shot was one thing, watching his barely conscious body being dragged from the danger was another thing... but being there as he bled out and essentially bled to death? That would have been the end of her career because she couldn’t do it without him.

“It nicked some small vessels but,” he smiles at YN and her knees are like jelly as she wobbles on her legs, “we stopped the bleeding. You can see him now.”

Seeing him so vulnerable in his hospital bed made her melt.

All sorts of emotions were running through her veins; she felt scared because all she could think about was something going wrong in his recovery, she felt sad because watching her boyfriend get shot wasn’t what she had expected and it shouldn’t have ever been something she witnessed, she felt angry because he could have prevented it from happening if he believed Blake had the situation handled, but she felt happy and she felt like crying happy tears because she felt like the world was back to normal now that he was awake and awaiting the one person he wanted to see.

“Hi,” he smiles sweetly and lifts a hand up to wave at her but it wasn’t so strong and he sounded sleepy and she couldn’t blame him for that, “come sit with me. I missed you.”

“I’m mad at you,” she states, arms folding over her chest as she stood in the doorway and took in his appearance; disheveled hair that stood in all directions, a bandage around his neck that kept his wound covered and safe from any kind of infection it could pick up, tubes and wires connected to him as the room fills with the rhythmic beeps from his heart monitor, “I’m really mad at you.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers and there’s sincerity in his voice. He hoped she wasn’t going to be mad at him but she was (or so he thought) and that wasn’t what he had intended with his actions back at the crime scene. “Please, come sit with me though? You don’t have to talk to me. Just, sit so I know you’re safe here.”

She was never going to walk away.

The seat beside him looked comfier than the waiting room chairs anyway so she would have been a fool to ignore his plea in keeping him company. She sets his belongings at the foot of his bed and steps further into the room, the heat coming from the radiator feeling so tingly against her exposed skin, and she shrugs off her jacket so she could feel the real benefit of the radiator. She stands at the side of his bed and leans over, pressing her lips against his warm forehead and leaving a very faint gloss smear against his skin.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” she cups his face in her hands and they blush under her touch, “don’t do that again, Spencer.”

“Baby, I wouldn’t dream of it,” he tilts his head into her touch and closes his eyes, content with how she very clearly feigned her anger towards him and all kinds of warm and fuzzy because she’s all he needed for his recovery. Her lips press against his in the most gentlest of kisses before she pulls back and sits herself down, his eyes opening and never leaving her face, “I love you. You think I’d jeopardise that?”

“You already did,” she clarifies and brings the chair closer, resting her elbows on the thin mattress he was laid upon and grabbing his hand with one of her own, “I can’t cope with how it made me feel. It was the worst experience of my life and I’ve killed people.”

“Criminals,” he corrects her and she lets out a gentle laugh, “you’ve killed all the criminals like a badass.”

She rolls her eyes.

Spencer was back, thankfully, and YN couldn’t have felt more normal after such a night of chaos and panic and all things worrying.

Hours had passed since he had woken from surgery.

He’d slept for a couple of those hours and gave in to the aches behind his eyes but all he had wanted to do was stay awake and never take a moment with YN for granted ever again, even if it meant sleep was put on the back burner. Life was too short, especially when working such a career as they had, and there was an uncertainty to when they really would never see one another again and he’d already nearly left her behind. He couldn’t bare to think about that happening, or with the shoe being on the other foot, and watching her and looking at her made him feel so much more solace than knowing he was on the mend.

When her mobile dings with a text alert from Morgan, an image attached that he needed her to see, she feels her heart race. Whilst she had been sat there with Spencer, she had been wracking her brain and reading through files and notes on what the team had already thrown around and bounced off of one another, and they had kept her in the loop like she had kept them in the loop on just how Spencer was doing so shortly after his incident. The man in the picture was the man she had seen walk passed the ward, many times in the last few hours, and it left a sour taste behind.

He’s here.

At the nurse’s station. I’ve seen him walk outside Spence’s room a few times.

YN feels sick to her stomach. Things had been serene because she was away from the chaos of working the case that the team were working on and left with her boyfriend as she kept him company so he wasn’t alone - of course, he’d told her he was fine and that he was as safe as he could be and that the team needed her expertise and her skills more than she needed to be with him but she refused to leave him.

She wanted to be with him.

He never wanted to take a moment with her for granted and she never wanted to take a moment with him for granted, ever again. And there was no way she was going to let anyone ruin the track they had rebuilt to normality...

Shut the door and don’t leave Reid. Get him in a wheelchair if you can.

Spencer was clueless to the text exchange happening, just like he was clueless as to who the unsub was and how he was stood outside the ward; he wasn’t even phased by how intensely she had been staring at her phone nor had he seen how her eyes were constantly darting from the window of the ward to him to the phone in her hand as she awaited the texts.

If not, shoot if you have your gun on you. Reid’s will be in his patient bag if you don’t. Back up is on the way, I’ll be there soon.

YN gulps thickly and the gun in the holster upon her hip felt much more heavier than usual. It was there, she wouldn’t be found without it (not now and not ever) tucked into her pocket or hanging off her belt, and she planned on using it if she needed it.

A knock on the door brings her back down to earth, it wakes Spencer up and it brings a sense of busyness to what had been filled with silence and nothing but their gentle breathing and no movement. A doctor stepping foot into the room, a clipboard in his hand and a solemn look on his face, interrupting their little bubble. Her phone went forgotten on his bedside table, locked to keep any of the wandering eyes from peeking at what her team was sending her, so she could keep her focus on whatever the doctor had to say.

“He, uh, he had his meds an hour ago,” YN reminds him and Spencer tucks up a little deeper under the thin, blue coloured comforter that came with the stay, “I was here so I saw.”

She was given a blunt answer in response, “yeah, post-op antibiotics.”

“Yeah, he had those, too.”

Curiosity gets the better of him and Spencer cranes his neck forward, trying to grab a look at what he was about to be given in regards to medication.

“What ones?” He catches sight of the label in the doctor’s hands and frowns to himself when he reads what he shouldn’t be reading, “carbenicillen? No, that’s not right. I have a severe reaction to beta lactams. I can’t have that.”

The clipboard that had been placed on the bed had been picked up by the doctor, her fingers flicking through his charts and his information, looking at him and shaking his head, “it’s not in your chart.”

YN feels her fight or flight response taking over when the doctor turns his body in the direction of the monitors that her boyfriend was wired up to, the antibiotic held in his hand as he preps and readies to medicate. Whatever Spencer was allergic to would have been written on his hospital chart so there was no way he was about to injected with whatever could kill him; he already faced death today and she wasn’t going to let that happen again.

“What are you doing?”

Spencer panics, YN panics, and he’s tugging at the wires he’s intubated with as the doctor readies himself to give him the medication he was asked to give him. A close call because Spencer fought back, slapping his hands away from the monitor so he couldn’t go through with the task of poisoning him with what he shouldn’t be allowed, the tiny bottle dropping to the floor and requiring him to pick it up... which only backfired against his mission.

“Gun,” Spencer calls and turns to his girlfriend but YN had seen it coming from a mile off, her gun ready and cocked before the doctor could turn around, “he has a gun, YN.”

By the time he turned, YN didn’t give him time to react because she had perfect aim and a clear shot that she wasn’t going to let go of. Spencer covered his ears as he prepared for the sound and closed his eyes because he couldn’t sit and watch his girlfriend have her turn in confronting death.

But when he feels her collapse against the bed, a hiccup of a sob escaping her parted lips, his pained movements get thrown to the side because she looked and she sounded and she was exhausted. Stressed, emotional and tired and who could blame her? She’d been through a lot. She grips onto his waist and she buries her face into the hospital gown covering his chest and she just cries. With everything that had happened, she hadn’t cried yet. Even though she felt like she wanted to, she didn’t bring herself to show emotion because there was a need to be strong in front of her colleagues... even though they expected her to break-down, they were impressed by how strong she kept her guard up.

“You’re okay,” he coos into the top of her head. He hears Morgan’s footsteps in the hallway, standing by the ward as an extra set of hands in case there was any other corrupt officers standing by to complete their mission, and Spencer smiles warmly at him as he turns his back to give them the privacy they needed to have. His main focus being cuffing the ‘doctor, as he laid injured on the floor. “You saved my life, YN.”

That only makes a sob erupt from her chest and it shakes her body and forces her arms to tighten around him.

“You’re okay,” he repeats softly, kissing her head, “you did so good today. I’m so proud of you.” xx

#spencer reid chats #spencer reid angst #spencer reid imagines #matthew gray gubler imagines

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phoenixyfriend · 4 years ago

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Madara and Obito... In SPACE

So the preface to this mess: I don’t know jackshit about Star Wars, so a lot of this went through friends who do know Star Wars (the primary of which does not have a tumblr).

(I have watched Episodes 7&8, and Rogue One. Of the first six movies, I remember watching maybe an hour total. I have not seen more than snatches of Clone Wars. Beyond that, nothing but fic.)

Anyway! Let’s go:

As y’all probably know by now, my favorite form of crossover is what I call “intrusive,” so... I'm enjoying the mental concept of "dump Madara on Coruscant and watch him go." (Prequels, probably.)

Does Madara know what's going on? No. Can he understand a word that's being said? No! Is he going to fight the first person to aim a weapon at him, and every person after that? Yes.

Is Madara fighting fit?

Nnnnnnnnnnnnnno, not really, he’s old as balls. This is "I was on cave life support but I'm getting back up to kick ass out of pure spite" Madara.

[Image description: A screenshot of a panel of the Naruto Manga. Uchiha Madara is old and visibly ‘decrepit,’ with spiky white hair and an amorphous black robe. He is sitting on a pale throne, and there is a scythe visible to the side. He has a speech bubble saying “I am... a ghost of the Uchiha.” End Description]

Two wrinkly old guys, staring each other down: There ain't enough room in this universe for the two of us. [Palpatine and Madara start fighting to the death]

Congrats, Palpatine! Your ass is getting kicked by a geriatric malcontent who doesn't speak any language you've ever heard or feel like literally anything in the Force. You may have Sith lightning, but do you have decades of frontline experiences and over half a century of cave-dwelling bitterness?

Both of them, simultaneously, in completely different languages: Get off my lawn, whipper-snapper.

Palpatine: Behold my mastery of the Dark Side, Foolish old man! Palpatine: [shoots lightning] Madara: Oh hey, you're like the seventeenth most dangerous person who can shoot lightning I've fought. Telekinesis? Fought that. Combat precognition? Fought that, have that, and let me tell you hwat, it doesn't help if you're opponent is just that much faster than you.

Now, I’ll take a step back and acknowledge that several people advised me that Palpatine would stand a chance against Madara, likely even win, if Madara just got hacked off of his life support and is down to one eye.

But. I want a shitpost, and also to clown on Palpatine, so Madara wins easily.

Madara also deserves to be clowned on, but the entire situation is clowning on him because he’s not in his cave anymore, and he really wants to go back to his Gedou Mazou statue.

Maybe Madara and Palpatine go Old Man Fight and then Obito just pulls a Ninja Move and kills Palpatine that way. Madara was ranting and Obito just. Ninjas behind Palpatine and slits his throat like “okay, you’re obviously evil so like... bye.”

(I just love causing "Wait what" reactions in characters that are used to having total control. Like. Have you read "Unexpected Guests"? The Bleach fic? Everything that happens in Hueco Mundo and after. That energy. I want that energy.)

Madara waves his scythe around like a cane. Obito just trails after like “Gramps, no” because it’s still pre-Sanbi, so he’s Mostly Innocent (you know, on the scale of how fucked up Obito is as a person), and just wants Madara to like. Stop.

Palpatine dies but nobody's sure what to charge Madara with since he did kind of expose a Sith? And Palpatine attacked first for [handwave] reasons?

Jedi: Well sir, in lieu of charging you with assassination of the emperor, we have decided to ask you politely to return to the elderly person's retirement home from whence you came. Please leave immediately. You are frightening the senate. Madara: [incomprehensible raving] Jedi: Yes yes, very interesting. Jedi, whispering: Does anyone know his caretaker???

Obito looks increasingly put-upon as events progress. You need Obito there to... well, not translate. Nobody can translate. But to at least poke Madara into being Slightly Less Homicidal.

Anakin seems sad about his friend dying and being evil so Obito challenges him to a spar. Madara and Obito get pulled into the Jedi Temple to help train Padawans? My first thought was "they wouldn't trust someone so obviously Weird, Crazy, and Incomprehensible around the younglings" and my second thought was "well they let Yoda do it and he's all those things so I mean? YEAH."

What if they put Madara in the bacta tank and he just freshened up like a daisy because of hand-wave Hashirama cell reasons (Blame Sir Tiddyface).

From “Decrepit and Reliant on Cave Tube Life Support” to “Will Call Down Meteors With Ease”

How many eyes does he have? Whatever’s funniest. Let’s say one Eternal Mangekyo Sharingan and one Rinnegan, for maximum chaos.

Would "half my body is missing" Obito freak out if Bacta regrew his eye? Can bacta regrow something like that? When characters lose limbs they usually just get cybernetic replacements, but the person I spoke with said that apparently they saw somewhere that that kind of thing can grow back it just takes a really long time.

I want to imagine bacta would help Obito with the Zetsu integration.

Anyway! Yes. Have Madara help train people despite being... Madara about it. You know... kind of a dick.

(I’d put example gifs but I don’t feel up to it. Y’all know what Madara’s “weakness disgusts me” ass is like.)

Obito had to get his "these fools could never make me sweat" sass from somewhere, after all.

Do you think Obito could fight the baby Jedi that are around his age while recovering? I have no idea what their skill level is at fourteen, but I want to imagine Obito sparring the Padawans.

Obito + Zetsu + Bacta = he still needs physical therapy but he can spar again!

Madara is delighted to have a baby ninja to bully. He's too old to not bully baby ninjas, and Obito is the only baby ninja. TBH Madara just makes Obito his assistant teacher.

Obito: What are we even doing here and how do we get home? Madara: I'm still working on that. Obito: But I want to go home and see Rin and Kakashi! Madara, who was like two days away from triggering the Sanbi plan: I'm working on it.

Something sticking in my mind rn is Ahsoka&Obito, since Obito is still Baby.

I think Obito would be excited to have someone his age that thought he was Cool and Talented for being able to do Chakra Things instead of writing him off as "the dead-last." Like, Rin is friends with him, but she doesn't look up to him as someone more/differently talented. He'd be excited to get to be "The Mysterious Cool Big Bro" for once.

I feel I also just like the idea of Anakin not knowing what to do with someone Several Years Younger that is also. Ninja Skill.

Miscellaneous thoughts:

Madara is a grouchy old man even AFTER he gets effectively de-aged via bacta dunk, for the record. He's back in his prime and the Jedi have no idea how. They're all concerned about tiddyface*. (When are people not concerned about Sir Tiddyface, really.) The mokuton is a problem.

*Sir Tiddyface is that random Hashirama face that Madara had growing out of his pecs for like... convoluted bullshit reasons.

(Madara doesn't have mokuton, but he has enough Hashirama cells that it interacted very, VERY weirdly with the bacta.)

Obito spends the intervening weeks trying to learn the local language. He's very eager. Not particularly fast. Still doing it though!

I want Obito juggling kunai as physical therapy while he's waiting for Mads to get out of the bacta tank and just gains himself the adoration of a gaggle of small baby Jedi children.

Madara comes out of the bacta tank looking like he did in his prime (which I mentioned earlier but whatever), and it absolutely incites a yelling match of an argument that draws way too much attention.

Someone tries to teach Obito how to access the Force, just to see what happens. He almost turns into a statue because the philosophy behind Force meditation is only a few steps away from Sage Mode Meditation.

Anyway, Madara smacks him with a stick like Fukasaku to make sure Obito doesn't turn into stone.

Madara grumps about the lack of paper and brushes and ink. Bitches about it until someone hits up an antique store or something to get them for him. The day before he and Obito are dispatched on a mission with someone, probably Anakin for plot reasons, Madara very publicly seals things into a scroll and then tells them that no, they can't learn it, because the Force isn't chakra so fuuinjutsu won't work for them, so There.

Obito practices some Teen Rebellion (tm) and like, tries to teach the Padawan friends he's made how to do Chakra Things... but he's so bad at explaining things that nobody can get it to work even if it were possible.

In Obito's defense, language barriers. Not in Obito's defense, he's just really bad at words sometimes.

#Star Wars #Star Wars Prequels #Naruto #Uchiha Madara #Uchiha Obito #crossovers #Phoenix Posts #body horror mention

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supercorp-hosie · 3 years ago

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My thoughts for legacies 3x13: I’ll try to put the point chronologically

1. When Kaleb blew the candle, I’m so confused because the first thing that comes to my head is: he’s blowing that because is daytime, but why put it so far from Cleo? Why use a candle when you have electricity? And apparently I’m a fool, because that’s how the confinement spell works duh! I only recalled that when Alaric blew it in the end. I’m so dumb lol.

2. I love that Kaleb is the first to seek Cleo out, wanted answers and ready to accept them. When he tries to comfort Cleo in her memories, that’s me too! But apparently being the badass she is, she immediately come up with the idea of replacing her grandma to go with Malivore.

3. Poor Cleo! My heart sores when it started with a little girl, just like with Finch. She’s a hero! She’s so brave! She’s a queen! And weirdly she likes frogs(or toads?) very much. I wonder why. And although she tried to kill Hope last episode, I never see her as a villain. Never for a second. Instead I’m impressed. Tbh I didn’t understand why she is always playing with clay/mud since the beginning of this episode. But after her backstory, I just feel sad and proud at the same time. Sad because it’s shaped from her painful time of enslavement. Proud because she’s using the thing she learned from it against Malivore as her weapon despite the painfulness. I remember she talked about her sister dying, but nothing about that occurs in the memories. Did she lie before or it’s just another thing that the writers forgot?

4. ‘Jonch’ is horrible! I prefer Finsie as the ship name. Why is their moment always so cringy? I get this second embarrassment from them a lot, mostly from Josie tho. I always felt there’s something lacking in Finsie, just like what I felt when Handon started it’s kind of sudden. Maybe because of my perception, I really didn’t know why Josie think Finch is hot. I have to learn how to appreciate her beauty. But goof news, I actually appreciated Finsie first kiss, because I see why they haven’t kiss before, and why they finally kiss. It’s cute and the sparkling, haha. Tbh I start to appreciate Finch’s beauty from the kissing scene angle. But this episode, again, I still feel cringy in most of the Finsie scenes. I have to put my palm on my head. Anyway, I enjoy the “girlfriend” scene tho, like Finsie starting to grow on me(again, the first time is their first kiss, hopefully no more cringy afterwards). It’s really good to see Josie happy. Btw, since Finch decided to enrol, will she be the new alpha now that she defeated Jed? That’s good for her, she finally has a pack and no longer lonely.

5. Along with Finsie scenes, does anyone realise there’s actually other students there? And there are actually other witches at the school?? I remembered that there’s like only four witches? Because Josie was the only witch at the school when Berbelang!Hope happened? Annnndddd! To that! Does anyone remember there’s this girl Gaby/Gabby? She’s also a witch, and she loves dnd like Wade? They can’t tease us with Penelope using her then just let her disappear?

6. Oh great there’s actually other wolves at the school. I’m starting to think Jed is the only wolf left (of course there’s Hope, but she’s tribrid). As much as I enjoy Finch being badass that she can stand beside Josie, I felt so sorry for Jed and his actor. He’s been there for 3 seasons and yet Finch get a backstory before him. He has none! The actor is great, look at the siren episode! He hardly gets any decent lines and scenes now. Instead, they make him looked useless, hard to be respectable. Like anyone can just harm his alpha reputation. Justice for Jed please. Oh and the fact that Finch got a backstory before Kaleb too? It’s unacceptable. They deserve more. Jed doesn’t even have a last name, my god! Anyway that doesn’t change the fact that I want to hug baby Finch so much bc she’s adorable!

7. With MG gone, Kaleb looks like the only vampire left in the school. I miss MG. What about Ethan?

8. Josie and Cleo finally met! I’m glad that she’s learned something from her too. I think it’s true that other kids never felt as easy as Josie at the school. They finally addressed it.

9. I’m frustrated that Hope never wanted answers from Cleo. The only friend that helped her grieve. But hey maybe she’s too hurt to be able to bear Cleo in her sight. But then again there’s the Landon problem, so she’s off with Landon again. Only taking to Landon the whole episode, being the only one that only talk to one person in the whole episode. Feel bad for her about this. Poor Hope.

10. I really feel bad for Landon, because there’s a lot of hardships to make him like that. Someone please give him hugs and a therapist. The show is doing a full cycle by stating what he’d done is just like what Hope did when she returned from Malivore. I understand why he kept himself away, but weirdly, the way the let those words out, it feels like he wants to get back at Hope when I think he wanted Hope’s understanding. Maybe he wanted both?

12. Someone told me that every 13th episode is the episode where Landon’s power are explored. I kind of agree with it now. Because he’s finally having the fighting skills that he’s longing now. Finally he can achieve his desires to physically fight alongside Hope. For what though, I don’t know, because in the case of supercorp, Lena never needed it physically to be Supergirl’s partner in saving the world, or of course to protect Kara. Glad for him, anyway, bc that’s what’s he wants. And the blow to the head? It’s awesome.

11. I can’t believe Landon is blaming Hope for not coming to save him sooner?! What the hell? What happened to “I’m going to be the one that always fight to find Hope”, idk whether I quoted it precisely, but the meaning is there. I am furious. Is this some sick drama that the show wants Landon to think that Hope was not coming to him because she had a perfect version of him?? That aside, when I see that Handon is going to fight together physically, I actually think the scene is good and they will overcome the blaming thing, and going to be a power couple. Just when I have that thought, Landon have to fucking throw the artifact towards Malivore(whether it is Malivore I’ll discuss afterwards, it’s contradictory)!! That’s such a stupid move! Where’s your brain? And it’s broken, oh god. And the show have to show Hope being so weak during the fight. I mean why? She’s a badass, why do they have to make her weak to glorify Landon?? They made her look useless. These things just really kill the budding Handon spirit in me. The show really knows how to make people resent Handon and Landon. Just please change the show name.

12. Anyway to be fair, Landon do care for Hope and do love her. Before, though I don’t think they are endgame quality, I think that if they do improve, Handon endgame is tolerable, acceptable. But now, I’m not so sure of that anymore. Other than the above mentioned points, Landon did leave Hope for a solid third time. Why the show have to establish that for Handon when their fans desperately defended Landon that he wasn’t always leaving. I mean I’ve seen Handon shippers fought really hard against the “Landon is always leaving Hope” argument. What a way to make a couple being endgame. In Chinese proverbs, there’s a thing for a third time. Like the three strikes law, I think? It says not to do anything or tolerate anything undesirable that has happened more than three times. So please do not make Handon together ever again. It’s an insult to Hope too.

13. To see it differently, poor Hope will finally have time out of Landon to think of herself and her future. We need to see her having her own storyline. So maybe we can see Hosie eventually? Sorry Finsie for anticipating your break up in the future. But please enjoy yourselves when Hope grows on her own, because Josie deserves a decent relationship on screen too. Hosie didn’t interact this episode, I’m sad.

14. I just can’t help but wonder why Alaric oversee the artifact being destroyed so easily. And when Josie introduces Finch, she deserves a decent conversation with the headmaster, really. Oh he’s an adult, be a responsible and respectable one, especially you’re Josie dad. Help her with her impression with her crush. Alaric really need help, we need another adult figure. It’s okay that’s not Caroline.

15. I kind of thinking that Landon and Cleo are shippable too when I know that they are leaving at the same time. Cleo being the sole reason to Landon existence is one of the reasons to ship them. She’s the one that tell Malivore he can make vessels and create legacy, that leads to Landon existing. Not to mention she did literally made Golem Landon by hand (we all know the thing that Hope made doesn’t have a body, so Cleo must have made his torso and limps right). Or maybe we prefer wandon endgame? Wade is precious too, he’s the one that point out Landon is not himself.

16. I’m so confused by this episode Malivore. I thought Cleo trapped him inside that monster Handon defeated this episode. But if it was trapped this long? How did the pit, Clarke and Landon even exist? Did Malivore escape from it?? It must have escaped.

17. In the promo for the next episode, we’re seeing Lizzie and Hosie interaction! I’m excited! I think maybe Josie will be the one that bring Hope out of the cult’s enchantment. What will happen? Maybe they will realise something or develop something towards each other? Anything hosie that MAKE SENSE please. Oh and Hizzie friendship/banters, and Lizzie suddenly being and “angel” will be so fun to watch. Finally, the trio!

18. I know it’s irrelevant but since I mentioned Clarke, I miss Holarke. I have some shippable thoughts about Finch and Penelope too. P is the she-devil in good girl attire; F looks like a bad girl but she’s good hearted. They are both fiery, imagine what they’ll be like when they’re together, erupting volcanoes?

19. Applause to Aria’s acting skill, this is like the eleventh role he’s played in legacies? Original Landon, Hope’s (subconscious) Landon, Landon’s (subconscious) Landon, Josie’s SimuLandon, Hope’s therapy Landon, Malivore Landon, golem Landon, ptsd Landon, oni-possessed Landon, golem Landon micmicking Necromancer, Clarke-Landon. Keep up the good work!

#hosie #finsie #jonch #legacies #legacies spoilers #kaleb legacies #jed legacies #cleo sowande #josie saltzman #finch tarrayo #alaric saltzman #hope mikaelson #landon kirby #holarke #aria shahghasemi #handonedit #wade legacies #justice for Jed #justice for kaleb

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ibijau · 4 years ago

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Here's another angst prompt for you, should you choose to accept it. JC/NHS or JC/NMJ or similar. Someone convinces NHS/whoever that the way to test JCs love for them is to make him jealous and make him fight for a relationship harder, except that's not how JC works, he's all like 'I knew NHS couldn't really love me, he'll be happier with XX, I have no right to force him into an unhappy relationship' etc etc etc and just aaaaannnggsstt!

as usual, I’m not sure how well this fits the prompt, oops. But there’s Jiang Cheng, there’s a Nie, and there’s some jealousy as well!

Jiang Cheng left the room without a word, and headed out for a walk in the gardens of Carp Tower. He had seen enough.

It wasn’t a surprise as such that Nie Huaisang, a few cups of wine into the banquet, should start misbehaving. For someone who drank so much, he couldn’t handle alcohol very well, always making a spectacle of himself. Usually that meant crying over a minor problem with his sect, or about how much he missed his brother, but sometimes, like that night, he would get flirtatious instead.

Jiang Cheng, often a victim of that flirtatiousness, had more than once advised him to stop drinking in public. It was often a half-hearted scolding though, because he didn’t exactly dislike having Nie Huaisang’s attention like that, especially not now that Nie Huaisang, on occasion, had made overtures while sober as well. Jiang had started wondering how he was supposed to show that he didn’t dislike the idea, but hadn’t found out how yet.

Which was just as well. If that night had proven anything, it was that Nie Huaisang had never seen this as more than a game. And after seeing him shamelessly flirt with Lan Xichen all evening, pouting and batting his eyes like one of those dancers the late Jin Guangshan sometimes brought to conferences, Jiang Cheng felt stupid for ever thinking Nie Huaisang could have seen him as more than a temporary amusement.

Jiang Cheng hadn’t been walking for very long when he heard footsteps rushing behind him. He hated that even before turning around, he could recognise the person. His mother hadn’t been wrong, every time she’d told him he needed to harden himself against others. It really was weak of him to be so desperate for attention.

“What do you want, Nie zongzhu?” Jiang Cheng hissed, refusing to turn around.

He heard the footsteps stop a moment and a soft gasp, as if Nie Huaisang were surprised to have been noticed and recognised. An instant later, Nie Huaisang sauntered at his side, hidden behind a fan.

“Jiang-xiong, you left so suddenly, I became worried. Is there a problem?”

The tone of Nie Huaisang’s voice might have been innocent, but the way he peered at Jiang Cheng over the edge of his fan wasn’t. It was easy to forget, with the way he acted and how he never made anything of it, but Nie Huaisang was pretty good at reading people when he bothered. That he had been seen through made Jiang Cheng’s heart twist with shame.

“It was just too noisy in there, I needed some quiet,” he lied. Partly lied. Banquets held in Carp Tower really were annoying, and brought back unpleasant memories. He’d never have come again, if not for the chance to see Jin Ling. “I’m fine, you can go back and have your fun.”

Nie Huaisang stared at him a moment, then closed his fan and turned as if to leave.

“You’re right, I should enjoy myself while I can. Er-ge is so fun when he unwinds a little, isn’t he?”

Jiang Cheng huffed, refusing to comment on that. All Lans were the same to him, not one of them worth anyone’s time, yet always catching the attention of people around him. If Nie Huaisang wanted to have shitty tastes though, he was more than welcome to go after whoever he pleased.

Unbothered by his lack of reply, Nie Huaisang started walking back towards the buildings. He didn’t make it very far before he stopped again.

“Seriously? That’s how much you care?” he asked in a voice steadier than it ought to have been after how much he’d drunk.

Surprised by the chance, Jiang Cheng turned to look at him. Nie Huaisang was glaring at him, hands on his hips, a stern frown on his face. With such an expression, he looked a lot like his brother.

“I wasn’t aware I was supposed to care about anything,” Jiang Cheng dryly retorted. “Please, go back and have fun with Lan zongzhu.”

Nie Huaisang tilted his head, his eyes narrowing.

“Jiang-xiong, I just never know how to go about things with you,” he sighed, coming closer again. “You’re always making things more complicated than they need to be.”

“That’s rich, coming from you,” Jiang Cheng retorted, only for Nie Huaisang to tense and quickly hide again behind his fan. “I remember the kind of schemes you’d come up with when we were students. Now that was needlessly complicated.”

Nie Huaisang laughed awkwardly, and lowered his fan a little.

“Ah, yes, that. I was young, I needed to have fun. I still want to have fun. It’s just harder now. And you,” he stated, closing his fan to poke it at Jiang Cheng’s chest, “are a lot less cooperating than you used to be. Hence my previous statement: I never know how to go about things with you.”

“By the look of it, you don’t need me to have fun,” Jiang Cheng replied, batting away the fan. “Lan Xichen seems more than happy to provide you with all the amusement that you need, so go back to him and leave me alone.”

“Er-ge has been indulging me a lot tonight,” Nie Huaisang agreed, stepping closer still.

Jiang Cheng gritted his teeth.

Rationally, he knew that Lan Xichen hadn’t exactly flirted back. All he had done was reply to Nie Huaisang’s very silly remarks, laughed at his jokes, and tried to make sure the younger man ate a little between two cups of wine. As far as Jiang Cheng knew, Lan Xichen had never once given any indications that he thought of Nie Huaisang as anything but a second little brother, slightly more whiny and demanding that the first one, but a brother still.

Jiang Cheng wasn’t in a mindset to be rational, not about this.

Because he knew, also, that Lans weren’t exactly demonstrative about their feelings. He knew that Lan Xichen had been there for Nie Huaisang since the moment his brother died. He knew that it was to Lan Xichen (and Jin Guangyao, not that it mattered right then) that Nie Huaisang turned to whenever he encountered problems, even though Jiang Cheng had made it clear he was willing to give a hand as well.

He couldn’t even blame Nie Huaisang for this. Between the number one bachelor of their generation who lead a rich and powerful sect and was skilled in every domain, and the leader of a half ruined sect that was still desperately trying to get back on its feet, a man with so little to make himself appealing that he’d been judged less attractive than the son of a nobody… well, it wasn’t hard to see who Nie Huaisang would pick.

Nobody, given the choice between Jiang Cheng and literally anything else, had ever chosen Jiang Cheng. Even Wei Wuxian had chosen a life in exile and poverty rather than stay at his side, so why would Nie Huaisang be any different?

“Good for you,” Jiang Cheng hissed. “Invite me to the wedding I guess.”

He tried to leave, but Nie Huaisang quickly grabbed his arm with unexpected strength to stop him.

“Jiang-xion, wait! I swear you’re so… can’t you react normally sometimes?”

“Apparently not!” Jiang Cheng spat. “What’s a normal reaction supposed to be?”

“I don’t know,” Nie Huaisang whined, twisting and turning his closed fan in his free hand. “Something? Anything? Maybe saying ‘I’m better than him’ or ‘I won’t lose you to him’ or something like this? Make an effort, Jiang Cheng, I can’t keep carrying this courtship all on my own!”

Jiang Cheng blinked a few times, startled by that unexpected reasoning.

“I’d be an idiot to think I’m better than Lan-fucking-Xichen,” he numbly pointed out. “And what do you mean by courtship? Who’s courting who here?”

He hadn’t realised that it was something so serious between Lan Xichen and Nie Huaisang, but maybe his own stupid infatuation had forced them to make it more obvious so he’d stop mooning over Nie Huaisang like a lovesick puppy.

Nie Huaisang who tensed again, and threw him a worried look.

“I thought… Jiang-xiong… Jiang zongzhu, did I misread the situation?” he asked, sounding oddly fragile. “I thought we were courting? Isn’t it… I thought you were just a little shy about it,” he whispered, dropping his gaze. “That’s why I… I just wanted to spur you on, I didn’t think… This is so embarrassing. I’m sorry, Jiang zongzhu. I’ll stop pestering you then.”

True to his word, he released Jiang Cheng’s arm, looking more pitiful with every passing moment.

“You never said you wanted a courtship,” Jiang Cheng snapped, making Nie Huaisang flinch.

“I thought it was obvious?” he replied with a nervous laugh. “Like I said, it’s fine, I’ll stop…”

“How was I supposed to guess?” Jiang Cheng cut him. “You’re supposed to ask these things, you idiot.”

Flinching again, Nie Huaisang met his eyes, looking as if he might cry, and opened his fan once more. He didn’t say anything for a while, just observing Jiang Cheng carefully until he seemed to reach a conclusion and lowered his fan again.

“Jiang-xiong, you… is that you saying that you wouldn’t be opposed if I just asked?”

“Don’t say it like it’s an outrageous thing to want! It’s normal to ask!”

Nie Huaisang’s eyes went wide, before he burst out laughing.

“Jiang-xiong, only you would need it spelled out when I’ve been so obvious about it! Even Lan Xichen noticed, and he wouldn’t notice a murder happening right under his nose, so that’s saying something.”

That seemed like an oddly specific remark, Jiang Cheng thought, before deciding he didn’t want to ask about that when there were more important matters at hand.

“So you do want a courtship,” Jiang Cheng insisted.

“Yes.”

“With me?”

“Yes, with you!” Nie Huaisang laughed. “Who else? Lan Xichen? No thanks. I’m a Nie, I can’t imagine being with someone who never took the time to develop a personality. So, Jiang Cheng, let me ask you properly: would you entertain the idea of a courtship between the two of us?”

Jiang Cheng nodded, the words stuck in his throat. It seemed almost too good to be true, that anyone would choose him, that Nie Huaisang of all people would choose him, but he wasn’t about to question his luck.

“Good, excellent, we’re finally getting somewhere,” Nie Huaisang said, still half laughing, his cheeks flushed beautifully. “I guess just saying things isn’t a bad method either, after all. Now, Jiang Cheng, how about you kiss me?”

Jiang Cheng spluttered and grumbled at the shameless request, but quickly obeyed anyway.

#jiang cheng #nie huaisang #sangcheng #mo dao zu shi #the untamed #jau writes #my main reason for writing this was to poke fun at xisang yes thanks #and I picked nhs rather than nmj because nmj seems too sensible to try something like this lol #thehobbitbadger

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songofclarity · 4 years ago

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Omg I absolutely agree with your meta about WRH. When I 1st got into the Fandom I used to hate his guts but after I read the novel and watched the donghua I couldn't help but think he was really cool. Something I don't see spoken about often is his competence, not only was his sect the most powerful and richest in his reign but also in the sunshot campaign he was up against the whole cultivation world and they had WWX's demonic cultivation and army of the dead on their side as well as Meng Yao as a spy sneaking them information right from WRH's side and still they couldn't beat him and the war was at stalemate for 3-5 years until WRH was betrayed by Meng Yao whom he trusted and treated like a son and only after they lost WRH's leadership did the Wen sect fall. Also he respects and rewards competence regardless of background and gender etc which makes him look more progressive than most of the cultivation world. I also love how he exudes pure power and self confidence he has that sort of "feline" charisma like how a cat knows 100% and without any doubt that they are the epitome of cathood and that everyone else is beneath them and can never reach their level and also how before you know a cat you think cats are mean tyrannical assholes but then after you get to know them you still believe they are mean tyrannical assholes but also there is far more to them than meets the eye and you can't help but adore them and agree that they are indeed superior and have every right to expect to be worshipped and rule the world. Idk why I went into this cat tangent lol but the point is I believe WRH is very cat-like and maybe that's why I adore him so much because cats are my favorite creatures in the world

Much like a cat, Wen RuoHan sleeps 16 hours a day because an apex predator fears nothing. He wakes up to ask if the Sunshot Campaign is over yet. It's not. He gives a few orders, eats his dinner, throws around a newly gifted catnip toy (he’s quite pleased), and then goes back to sleep near a nice warm fireplace. It's been a long day and he deserves it.

OK, on a serious note, "only after they lost WRH's leadership did the Wen sect fall." 👏👏👏 THANK YOU! The war lasted three years. Wen Chao, Wen ZhuLiu, and Wen Xu all died within days of each other in the first three months. The Qishan Wen Sect is never described as stepping up their game when they realized the Sunshot Campaign was serious. The other sects had Wei WuXian’s demonic cultivation and Meng Yao’s spying.

And STILL the other sects could. not. win.

Jumping back to the top of your ask, it's pretty easy to hate Wen RuoHan at first. The fandom blames him for literally everything even though we see in real time how Wang LingJiao, Wen Chao, and Meng Yao all make their own, terrible choices. The donghua makes Wen RuoHan into a murderous aggressor trying to take over the cultivation world. CQL went with the a more traditional cdrama evil man who doesn't seem to know which way is up.

On a side note, I'm constantly confused when I see people say Wen RuoHan declared the Sunshot Campaign on the other Sects because, like, no? It's literally in the name: the other sects are trying to shoot down the sun! If this was Wen RuoHan's war, it would be more akin to the Scorched Earth Campaign.

So Wen RuoHan being at the head of the Wen Sect with four other great sects trying to take him down and holding steady is such a testament to his competency, you're absolutely right! And at the helm of his competency is his delegation.

Does he delegate to good, responsible people? No, and that’s what gets him into trouble, but I think his delegation is also what makes him popular with his sect and with guest cultivators. He’s powerful and he’s willing to share that power.

What's funny about the Qishan Wen Sect was that it was indeed the most powerful and richest, but Wei WuXian also notes how bad their general cultivators are. That Lan XiChen, Lan WangJi, Wei WuXian, and Jin ZiXuan all ranked in the top four at the archery competition isn't just due to their outstanding skill. It's also because the Wen juniors were just... frankly bad. Wen Ning has stage fright and Wen Chao lacks talent. The Waterborne Abyss was pushed into Gusu territory not as an attack on Gusu, but very likely because the Wen cultivators were not able to destroy it so they just pushed it outside their borders.

So the Wen Sect is really quantity over quality. Yu ZiYuan is a badass lady with a lightning whip and should not have died at Lotus Pier, but Lotus Pier was completely overrun so of course she stood no chance.

And the lack of quality also lies with the guest cultivators. The guest cultivator who threw Nie Dad under the bus, Wang LingJiao, and Meng Yao are all horrible people. Wang LingJiao and Meng Yao are noted for their poor cultivation. Both of them would have been killed before the crucial point if our actual Wen fam, Wen ZhuLiu and Wen RuoHan respectively, did not step in to save them.

Which makes it all the more impressive that Wen RuoHan's leadership held back not just the four sects (perhaps closer to three as the Yunmeng Jiang were recruiting probably rogue cultivators and training a lot from scratch) but also Wei WuXian with his demonic cultivation! Didn't the rumors talk about how Wei WuXian could kill thousands on his own? I don't recall Wei WuXian ever denying it, although at that rate I'd be surprised if there was anyone left to fight after three years, so it’s probably exaggerated lol He’d still be terrifying, however!

Meng Yao's spy work perhaps saved the other four sects from being decimated but his spy work was never enough to give them the upper hand. (Although I have a LOT of thoughts about what that spy work was meant to achieve in general.) Did Wen RuoHan ever know there was a spy? Would it have mattered when it had such little effect??

Wen RuoHan absolutely son-zoned Meng Yao and it's infuriating to me how often Wen RuoHan is treated by fandom as abusing Meng Yao in some capacity. There is no sign that Meng Yao ever suffered in Nightless City. That was always kind of the point of us seeing empathy: Meng Yao was in his stride, he murdered, and he was given a choice and he voted torture.

When we hear about the Fire Palace and how Meng Yao invented all those torture devices, that's Meng Yao being honored for his talent in torture. Wen ZhuLiu changed his name to Wen in order to follow Wen RuoHan and Wen Chao even comments that he can't do anything to punish Wen ZhuLiu because his father thinks Wen ZhuLiu is a rare talent. Talent is protected. Talent is promoted.

Wen RuoHan absolutely rewards talent -- which is, I like to point out, something we only ever see Nie MingJue do when he explains why he promoted Meng Yao. By comparison, Jiang FengMian only praises Wei WuXian, the Gusu Lan bullied Su She out rather than acknowledge he was talented in his own right, and the Jin only ever use their guest cultivators, such as Xue Yang, like tools to be used and thrown away. While Nie MingJue gets closest by raising up Meng Yao, however, he doesn't seek to cultivate Meng Yao's skills and instead sends him on his way when Meng Yao has other goals.

Wen RuoHan not only rewards talent but he also nurtures it. Wen Chao is given opportunities to practice being a leader and organizer. It's said by cultivators later in the novel that Wen RuoHan taught Meng Yao his sword technique--the same technique that Meng Yao likely used to kill him. Note how Nie MingJue observed from the start that Meng Yao's sword skills needed work, but we never see or hear about Meng Yao doing any training with the Nie. So Meng Yao goes from being a terrible swordsman to being good enough to kill Wen RuoHan fast enough that he suffers no backlash.

Although is Wen RuoHan the type of person who would harm someone he had son-zoned? The manhua gave us a gift by showing us the shocked and betrayed look on Wen RuoHan's face and the completely unapologetic look on Meng Yao's.

That isn’t to say that Wen RuoHan, as the enemy, didn’t somehow deserve to be taken down, but it does say a lot that the only way to defeat him was through a personal betrayal. And it says a lot that, with Wen RuoHan ruling over a city-sized cultivation sect that welcomed plenty of outsiders, he never felt like he had to watch his back.

#asked from above #anon #mdzs thoughts #wen ruohan #this is kind of a ramble #but you're opening all the doors on my wrh feels lol #included the mentioned wrh meta in the source

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xiyao-feels · 3 years ago

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Part Four: My thoughts on the effects of these changes on our interpretations of the characters, and some miscellaneous final notes

Intro - Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4

Okay, so. That's a list of changes. What kind of effect does it actually have on our interpretation of the characters?

For JGY, it's perhaps more subtle than you'd think. The complaint from JGY stans about FJ I heard most often, prior to watching it, was that JGY involves NHS in his brother's killing—whereas in MDZS, as shown, if anything he functions as NHS' protector. This is definitely obnoxious, but to my eye the worst changes are the perhaps more subtle ones. The JGY of FJ is significantly different from the JGY of MDZS and CQL in two ways: first, he has more options available, and second, without ever making an explicit claim, the text nevertheless sends the strong message that he is /not actually in danger from NMJ/.

What do I mean about more options? To begin with, he teaches NHS the corrupted SoC. This carries some risk of LXC finding out, and a much greater risk of NHS finding out—as, indeed, he does. I don't see how this could plausibly be a risk worth taking for JGY; the narrative's insistence suggests either that he has some way to mitigate that risk, or that he's secure enough he can afford to be so careless. His ability to achieve such strong, immediate affects via musical cultivation, despite his weak cultivation level, adds to the general sense that FJ JGY is much less constrained than MDZS or CQL JGY, as does JGS' complete absence from the narrative; it would be easy to forget that JGY is under any social/political pressure at all, even though this is a constant theme in NMJ and JGY's confrontations in MDZS and CQL, and the pressure and danger from JGS specifically is central to their confrontation at the stairs. The lack of any hint of or history of disrespect to LFZ from the Nie men, given what we see of their interaction in CQL, is yet another example of FJ ignoring the constraints JGY actually has to work with.

And, of course, FJ suggests that he has the option to actually cure NMJ, when the fact that he doesn't is in my opinion central to the morality of the decision, to understanding JGY's character, and indeed to many of the themes of the text. (In fact as a friend pointed out to me it suggests that NHS or indeed anyone could learn the music to cure him, although FJ does not seem to realize the implications of this itself.)

This ties in with point two: that JGY is not actually in danger from NMJ. We never see NMJ attack him—NMJ's violence is reserved for other people. Furthermore, we see him (and later NHS) stop NMJ's violence by the quick application of the uncorrupted SoC; this includes, as I've mentioned in previous sections, a scene where JGY protects NHS from NMJ's anger via cultivation, while in the nearest MDZS scene JGY protects NHS from NMJ's anger very explicitly by being a more appealing target. Watching FJ, it would be very difficult to understand how much danger JGY was actually in, and how much he was a target of NMJ's violence.

Even in CQL, NMJ tries to kill JGY at the stairs, drawing his sabre on him after the stairs kick—and even that first attempted blow, before they exchange words outside, could have caused JGY serious damage. In MDZS, after the stairs—where NMJ would very likely have succeeded in killing JGY if LXC hadn't intervened—though WWX admires JGY's skill in finding the right words to convince NMJ to "give him another chance," JGY is only able to do this by promising he'll do something that would probably get him killed, and then promising NMJ that he can kill JGY if he doesn't do it. Moreover, NMJ ends his own life by kicking down a door to kill JGY on the spot, because he did not like the way he was talking about NMJ to LXC. This is a very, very far cry from anything presented in FJ.

The idea that JGY could actually cure NMJ goes to this as well. NMJ is as violent to JGY as he is because of the sabre curse; JGY's choices are endure this, and hope to survive, or...kill him quicker, and hope to survive. He doesn't actually have a choice that involves not being subject to NMJ's violence. Ignoring this fundamentally changes JGY's character, who is so defined by the constraints under which he suffers, and indeed by the lack of physical security he has until he becomes Jin-zongzhu.

What then about NMJ's character? Honestly I don't even have the words for this; it's a profound insult to his original character. The thing is, it's not just that NMJ doesn't doubt the righteousness of Nie cultivation practices, although he very much does not. It's that NMJ would never do something he secretly thought was unrighteous, never mind /shape his life around it/. If he believed something wasn't righteous, he simply wouldn't do it. This is literally the heart of his conflict with JGY, and it repeats throughout the text again and again.

Further, and less flattering to NMJ: NMJ is absolutely convinced of the righteousness of his own judgement. It's not just that he wouldn't do something he thought in his heart wasn't righteous; he's never the kind of torn he is shown to be in FJ, and he never doubts his own judgement. When NHS challenges him here on whether he's qualified to decide the fate of evildoers, who are after all still evil, part of him clearly thinks NHS has a point. But NMJ absolutely, one hundred percent believes in his right to play—if you'll pardon the phrase—judge, jury, and executioner. It's not just JGY, although it very much is, also, JGY; at no point does he seem to believe anything but that he has the absolute right to kill JGY if he decides to. Indeed, some of his worst violence to JGY is a result of JGY challenging his assertions of righteousness, at the stairs. We see it with XY, both in MDZS and arguably even more clearly in CQL as well: in episode 10 he instantly decides that XY should be executed, and is about to carry out that execution when WWX intervenes—and then he's offended about WWX's intervention! The only reason he doesn't carry out the execution on the spot is MY's argument that keeping XY alive can be used to harm the Wen. And, of course, we see it with his attitude to WQ and WN, although people are so often determined to ignore this. Please note that he argues /against/ JC and LXC's defense of them, both in MDZS and in CQL; if ever there was a single incident that could have changed at all how things came out, it would be the very respected sect leader Nie, whose sect is after the Jin the strongest surviving sect post-Sunshot, speaking out in their defense at the conference convened to determine what to do about the fact that WWX just made off with them.

Now, thematically, I think part of the point of his character is that his inflexibility is...well, inflexible; his condemnation of people who are in bad positions does more harm than good. Returning to JGY for a moment, I also think it's telling that NMJ doesn't take effective action to accomplish his goals re: XY. This isn't even just because JGY killed him—if he had actually killed JGY instead, then he would have found quite suddenly that he'd killed Lianfang-zun, the war hero who killed WRH, his own sworn brother, JGS' beloved son, etc etc etc. It would not have gone well for him. Part of the point is that—in a corrupt system, acting as though the system isn't corrupt will itself lead to injustice. Making NMJ himself knowingly complicit in the corruption of that system rather defeats that point.

I am also, I admit, /extremely/ annoyed that /he/ is offered the understanding that he had no choice because of his position, while JGY's difficulties are ignored, and when a) although from what we see in MDZS it would certainly have been quite difficult, he did actually have a choice b) the movie strongly suggests (with the ready willingness of the Nie men to follow him when he rejects the ancestral method of balancing, their respect for sabre-weak NHS, and the lack of opposition from any other area) that it would not, actually, have been that difficult, socially speaking.

I think in terms of the effects this has on people's interpretations of JGY, probably this makes them think that NMJ at the stairs rejects the specifics of JGY's argument, and contributes to a general lack of engagement with the substance of what JGY is actually saying (and the lack of substance of NMJ's reply). People mostly ignore NMJ's similar stance towards WQ, so I suspect this doesn't have much effect there; I have on occasion seen the claim that he was right to condemn her as well, but I mostly don't think it was coming from an FJ-inspired place.

When it comes to NHS…mmm. As I said, CQL makes him less amoral at the beginning, although it doesn't prevent his total—I'm not even sure you can say 'carelessness towards collateral damage' in the current timeline when from his perspective collateral damage would be a good thing, since it would be blamed on JGY. Not to mention the way he treats QS, what he's implied to do with MS' body... I suspect that FJ!NHS is where you get man-of-the-people NHS, who would /totally/ have built those watchtowers instead of that awful JGY if that awful JGY hadn't cruelly murdered his brother because a) he's Evil and/or b) he's ambitious (and also evil), and what other considerations could there possibly be?

To which I can only say: fucking spare me. I suspect the characterization here of NHS and of the Nie men contributes generally to fandom's idea of a much more gentle and progressive cultivation world than either MDZS or CQL supports.

In summation: FJ is, considered as providing any kind of interpretive light on CQL and/or MDZS characters, a terrible movie. If you are not fully familiar with the relevant portions of MDZS, I don't see how you could come away from this without absorbing significant falsehoods. Although I certainly can't and indeed don't wish to tell anyone what they should or should not consider canon, I do think it's important to know that incorporating FJ into your personal canon is going to result in an extremely different characters than not doing so, and if you want to argue with CQL or MDZS fans about characters' characterizations based on FJ, it's not going to be a very productive discussion for anyone involved.

A few miscellaneous notes:

-The change in the narrative of NMJ's violence extends beyond the replacement of his primary target. In fact, there are three things in particular I want to pull out.

First, and despite his near assault of NHS, FJ!NMJ is portrayed as much less...well, scary, than MDZS NMJ, and even to some extent CQL NMJ. NMJ habitually takes out his anger in undirected violence towards objects—the boulder when he hears his men talking about MY, the boulder(/pillar in CQL) after MY kills WRH, the door he kicks open to kill JGY before he qi-deviates, the table he cracks in his anger around NHS delighting in fans rather than knowing where he sabre is; even, though here at least it is a clear deliberate choice, his burning of NHS' things. In FJ—well, I don't want to say there's none of that, he does at least break NHS' paintbrush and I could be misremembering other things, but it certainly seems a lot less prevalent. And more than that, people simply don't react to him as terrifying! In FJ, NHS after NMJ /nearly hits him/ is still a lot less scared of NMJ's anger than NHS is in this parallel scene in MDZS, where he does not (ch 49):

One day, the moment he returned to the main hall of the Unclean Realm, he saw about a dozen folding fans, all lined in gold, flattened out one next to the other in front of Nie HuaiSang, who was touching them tenderly, mumbling as he compared the inscriptions written on each one. Immediately, veins protruded from Nie MingJue’s forehead, “Nie HuaiSang!”

Nie HuaiSang fell at once.

He really did fall to his knees from the terror. He only staggered up after he finished kneeling, “B-b-b-brother.”

Nie MingJue, “Where is your saber?”

Nie HuaiSang cowered, “In… in my room. No, in the school grounds. No, let me… think…”

Wei WuXian could feel that Nie MingJue almost wanted to hack him dead right there, “You bring a dozen fans with you wherever you go, yet you don’t even know where your own saber is?!”

Nie HuaiSang hurried, “I’ll go find it right now!”

Nie MingJue, “There’s no need! Even if you find it you won’t get anything out of it. Go burn all of these!”

All of the color drained out of Nie HuaiSang’s face. He rushed to pull all of the fans into his arms, pleading, “No, Brother! All of these were given to me!”

Nie MingJue slammed his palm onto a table, causing it to crack, “Who did? Tell them to scurry out here right now!”

Even though he nearly hits NHS, even though he actually kills many of his own men, he is simply not presented as nearly as scary.

Second, and not unrelatedly, in FJ the narrative focus of the consequence of NMJ's violence is on his own pain at his men's death, and NHS' pain at seeing him kill them. In MDZS, this is more complicated. We see, of course, his violence to JGY, and the consequences to JGY of that violence; at the stairs, for example, kicking JGY down the stairs he gives him another head wound to add to the one Madam Jin gave him. Moreover, his increasing rage actually /damages/ his relationship with NHS. We see this notably in NHS' reaction to NMJ burning his things (ch 49):

Nie HuaiSang’s eyes brimmed red. He didn’t even make a sound. Jin GuangYao added, “It’s alright even if the things are gone. Next time I can find you more…”

Nie MingJue interrupted, his words like ice, “I’ll burn them each time he brings them back into this sect.”

Anger and hatred suddenly flashed across Nie HuaiSang’s face. He threw his saber onto the ground and yelled, “Then burn them!!!”

Jin GuangYao quickly stopped him, “HuaiSang! Your brother is still angry. Don’t…”

Nie HuaiSang roared at Nie MingJue, “Saber, saber, saber! Who the fuck wants to practice the damn thing?! So what if I want to be a good-for-nothing?! Whoever that wants to can be the sect leader! I can’t learn it means I can’t learn it and I don’t like it means I don’t like it! What’s the use of forcing me?!”

He then runs off the field and locks himself in his rooms, not even letting anyone in to bring him medicine. The next we hear about NHS is in the next scene, not two months later, when LXC describes NMJ's recent troubles (ch 50): "These past few days, he has been deeply troubled by the saber spirit, and HuaiSang has argued with him again." Now, they clearly continue to love each other, and NHS is clearly devastated by NMJ's death; but in the months leading up to NMJ's death, their relationship was unusually strained, not closer than ever.

Thirdly, I think the narrative ends up distorting the way NMJ's sabre rages work. Not completely—the example where he almost punches NHS is actually a pretty good example—but consider his final violence to his men. He kills them, /not/ because in his rage he feels that killing them would be righteous punishment for whatever they have done, but because he hallucinates that they are WRH's puppets. But I don't believe we see NMJ hallucinate anything until he actually qi-deviates—at which point he hallucinates that they are /JGY/, and while in CQL at least JGY has confessed to the corrupted music before he starts hallucinating JGYs, in MDZS his anger is, again, about how JGY was talking about him to LXC. When NMJ is violent to people under the effects of the sabre curse, it is because he is angry, and in his anger that violence feels reasonable. There is not as far as I can tell anything that suggests that his sabre-affected rages feel differently from the inside than his more regular rages—nor do we ever see him apologize for the harm he does in his rages, precisely because, to him, his rage and hence his subsequent violence feel like entirely appropriate responses to the situation. I think this goes to point two, above; it would be harder to induce sympathy for NMJ if, say, he killed his men because they were challenging him, and at no point acknowledged he has been wrong to do so.

-You could probably do something interesting here with considering this movie as splitting JGY's character between NMJ (the man who makes difficult decisions due to his political position), NHS (the weak but skilled cultivator), and NZH (the loyal and extremely competent subordinate), even as it ignores the much greater difficulty of JGY's position, that his weakness is because he lacked NHS' opportunities and his skill obtained despite lacking them, that unlike FJ NMJ he actually does need to make those difficult decisions to achieve his goals and does indeed achieve them, etc. This is left as an exercise to the reader.

-I greatly resent the clear and extensive visual parallels between NHS' bow to JGY, at the end of the film, and MY's bow to JGS after JGS kicks him down the Jinlintai stairs, and the way the similarity is taken as indicating parallels beyond the visual. This is, first, because their positions are not at all the same. I am certainly not saying NHS' position was in any way comfortable or good; nevertheless, he is at that moment a clan leader who is surrounded by men who, from the film, would not hesitate to die at his command. There is not really anything about the presentation of the Nie men in FJ that suggests that if NHS went outside that room with JGY and announced to them that JGY had killed NMJ and they should attack him now, his men would do anything other than try to kill JGY immediately at his command. This was, needless to say, very much not the position of the young teenager MY, far from home, injured, humiliated, and made a public joke; perhaps more subtle is that NHS' position at NMJ's death, though he is politically weak and though he has just suffered a devastating loss, is still more secure than /JGY's/ at the same, as JGY—far from being a clan leader with the absolute obedience of his men—is not even JGS' acknowledged heir. Indeed, in many ways the focus of NHS' enmity on /JGY/, rather than JGS who commands him, is an extension of NMJ's focus on JGY rather than JGS when it comes to achieving XY's execution, and in both cases extremely advantageous to JGS. Certainly NMJ would not have been able to get away with harassing Zixuan as he does JGY on the matter of XY; likewise, JGS would never have risked Zixuan in an attempt to kill NMJ as he does JGY. The advantage of JGY as assassin is that if he kills NMJ, JGS wins; if NMJ kills him, JGS also wins (an incalculable political advantage); and if he is caught, his background makes him both easily severable and an ideal scapegoat. Also returning to framing of the bow—and while this is much more trivial it is a recurring petty imitation—I have seen matched gifsets suggesting that JGY was also swearing revenge on JGS at this moment.

-The last words JGY says to NHS are "Restrain your grief;" in English of course this comes across as extremely insensitive, but see drwcn's post for some cultural context; it's actually a common expression of condolences.

-I believe this is whence the idea that MY's headpiece in CQL used to be NHS', because we see kid NHS wearing it in the flashbacks; let us say, if you don't feel the need to accept FJ as canon, I don't think you need to accept that, either.

#fj negativity #long meta #more than one tag could contain #anger burned in his heart #we can't change places

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jackrrabbit · 4 years ago

Text

excerpts/tasting menu of upcoming works

You’re in luck anon because this past week my dumbass brain decided to start like 5 different fics and not finish any of them, so I have plenty of things to preview (specific CWs included with each individual section)

As always, encouragement goes a long way for my motivation, so if you see something you’re interested in, give it a shoutout!

Also, all of these are super rough ;///; please have mercy on my pitiable first-draft skills

[BNHA] Spoiled Rotten /// Overhaul x f!Reader

Summary: You’re daddy’s spoiled little princess, but unfortunately daddy’s got debts to the yakuza and Overhaul’s going to make you work them off the hard way.

Warnings: restraints, kidnapping, harassment, drugging

“Do you know why you’re here?”

Against your will, your eyes flip up to the speaker. He’s the only one sitting, and somehow that gives him a position of power among the others. The leader?

Golden eyes rest steadily on yours, and you realize he’s waiting for your answer, so you slowly move your head from side to side.

“Didn’t know about daddy’s bad habits, huh?” This time the person speaking is behind you—the one who untied your blindfold, a thin man with lank, greasy blond hair. He’s the one who drugged me, you remember in a surge of panic, and you try to shift away from him only for him to step on the chain that connects your cuffs, jerking you back and pinning you in place.

“Careful, Setsuno. I told you not to leave marks. Let her talk.”

“Got it, boss.” The blond—Setsuno—fumbles at the back of your head and then he’s pulling the gag out of your mouth.

You open and close your mouth a few times to stretch out the stiff muscles. “Oh my gosh, was that polyester you just took out of my mouth? Do you have any idea how bad synthetics are for sensitive skin? I’m totally going to break out.”

A hush falls over the little room. You could hear a pin drop.

“…Are you complaining about the quality of the fabric we gagged you with?” the leader asks after a beat.

“You may be gangsters, but you don’t have to act like savages,” you reply primly, aligning your knees together and sending a proud look off to the side.

“Ohh…little princess deserves better, does she?” Setsuno coos. He edges closer to rub his cheek against yours and laughs when you flinch back from him. “Boss, you shoulda seen her bedroom. All pink and frilly, looked like royalty lived there. Bet they treat you like a real princess at home, huh? No wonder your daddy’s in debt.”

[BNHA] Sweet Tooth /// Bakugou x f!Reader

Summary: Pro hero AU—Your boss Ground Zero is an insufferable prick, but you just can’t get enough of the way he smells.

Warnings: none? arguing?

“Do you hear me? I don’t want you here. I don’t want you as my assistant. You can call yourself my ‘administrative support’ but you and I both know you’re a glorified janitor here to clean up my messes and I. Don’t. Want. You.” There’s a muffled bang and then the air is permeated with the acrid stench of burning. You don’t even have to look down to know that the papers (the report you spent three days of unpaid overtime trying to finish in the hopes that maybe this would convince him that you’re on his side) are going up in smoke.

And okay, you slip a little bit. Who can blame you?

“Well guess what, Katsuki? I don’t want you either.” You step as much closer to him as you can manage without literally touching him and jab your index finger into his chest—see how he likes it when you get up in his personal space. “I got placed here. I didn’t choose this. I don’t want to work for a temperamental brat who doesn’t know how to be appreciative of his staff, so the feeling’s mutual. So how about you shut up and let me do my job before the Commission decides you’re too much of a liability to let you run wild any longer?”

Bakugou sneers. He’s clearly not intimidated in the least, and dear god do you want to wipe that smug look off his face. “If you’re the best tactic the Commission’s got, they know they can’t touch me. I’m the number two hero—“

“—and you’re the number one expense when it comes to damage control and repairs. Seriously, do you think Deku goes around blowing up government buildings every other week? I’d kill to be at his agency instead of yours.”

“It was one stupid post office, and no one was hurt—“ Bakugou stops in the middle of his rebuttal and scarlet eyes narrow at you. “Wait. Deku? You’re saying you’d rather work for shitty Deku?”

He says it like the alias is an insult, and you frown. As a long-time admirer of Deku’s, you feel the instant impulse to come to his defense. “Of course I’d rather work for the top pro hero. Maybe if you weren’t so hot-headed you’d win a popularity contest once in a while.”

Uh-oh. Looks like you struck a nerve.

Bakugou leans into you and now you’re the one who has to shuffle back to keep your distance. He looks—well, murderous is a little too terrifying, so you’re going to go with pissed. Light shimmers out in harmless sparkles over his palms (it would be pretty if it wasn’t so foreboding) and the accompanying crackles make you shiver, but you hold the determined look on your face. He’s so close you can smell the fresh sharpness and witch hazel in his aftershave and under that—

—huh. It’s weird, but there’s a really sweet, really rich scent. Like…what is it? It’s wrong, out of place. Your brain is convinced that it’s not supposed to be there, so you can’t identify it. Without thinking, you inhale roughly, trying to get a better sense of the mouth-watering smell.

[BNHA] Runaways /// Dabi x f!Reader

Summary: Yandere—You were like an older sister to Dabi back when the two of you were teen runaways together; now that he’s found you as an adult, he’s never letting you leave again.

Warnings: unsafe piercing practices, don’t do this at home kids

When you turn your head like that, Dabi can see the tiny dots running up the side of your ear where your old piercings have scarred over from lack of use. Do you remember when he gave them to you? You did his first, running a needle through the lonely flame of your lighter (he offered to use his quirk, but it was still hard for him to control then so you declined) and then threading the metal through his ear. You promised it would only hurt for a second, and you were right, so he let you do the others.

Then, you’d offered to let him give you one. Just one on each ear—you already had an impressive collection of piercings, but you wanted to let him return the favor, so he did it. You were older than him and more experienced and had lived on the streets for longer, so when he held the needle in his hand and you told him you trusted him, it was the first time he’d ever thought of you as fragile, something delicate, something that he was capable of harming.

He’d chosen twin helix piercings for you, cresting the shell of each ear, silver band rings to match his. When they were done you’d pulled him to a mirror and asked him what he thought. It’d been a while after the worst burns on his face, the ones under his eyes and wrapping around his chin and down his neck, and he was still getting used to the knowledge that the wrinkled purple-red scars were never going to heal. “I look like…” he’d started.

A monster. A freak. A victim.

“A badass,” you’d said. “You look fucking cool. Any asshole who wants to pick a fight with you will take one look and know you’ve been through worse shit than whatever they can dish out, and that’s something to be proud of.”

Now that Dabi thinks about it, he probably wanted you even then.

[KNY] Moonrise /// Kokushibou x f!Reader

Summary: A shrine maiden is spirited away by a demon posing as a land god.

Warnings: references to Shinto religion

“Look up there, up in the mountains behind our shrine,” your grandmother told you. “Do you see the place where the earth rises into the clouds? Our kami lives there, in the boundary between the physical world and the celestial one, higher than any human can reach.”

You stopped crying just long enough to follow the direction of her gaze, staring into the hazy mist in the mountains beyond your village. “Kokushibou lives in the woods?” The idea of your supposedly beloved deity living off the land like a wild animal was unsettling to you.

The anxiety was obvious in your voice, but your grandmother just laughed and patted your hair. “In the woods, yes, but the legends tell us he lives in a mansion fit for an emperor. His house is so fine that our little temple could fit inside it a dozen times.”

“Does he live there all by himself? Isn’t he lonely?”

“Kokushibou may be alone, but he spends his days watching our village. He has three pairs of eyes so that he may look upon the human world, the heavens, and his own affairs without changing his gaze.” Your grandmother pointed to one of the stone carvings that had scared you earlier (the one you thought was so demonic with so many eyes in its face) and her wrinkled lips curled up in a smile that made her look like a girl again. “Can I tell you a secret?”

You nodded yes, too enthralled in the tale to remember that you’d been upset.

“Once when my aunt—your great grandmother’s sister—was young, Kokushibou came down from his mountain to watch her perform her kagura dance. When she first met his eyes she was afraid, but her fear only lasted a moment, for although he was fierce in temperament his face was as beautiful as the full moon.”

Your mouth dropped open. “Did she say anything to him?”

“No, he disappeared before she could speak to him. But she told me she always regretted not being able to thank him for what he does for our village.”

“But what does he do? For our village?”

Your grandmother’s rough hands closed over your small ones, pulling them to her mouth so she could place a tender kiss upon them. “Kokushibou protects us. In other towns like ours there are criminals, raids…even attacks from demons and other creatures of darkness. Our village is peaceful because the evil fears retribution from kami.”

“So he takes care of us?”

“Yes, all of us.”

“Even me?”

“Even you, little one.”

[Haikyuu] Fanatic pt. 3 /// Oikawa x f!Reader

Summary: Oikawa takes advantage of a devoted fan for some stress relief after a bad match (…and then other stuff happens, see [part 1] and [part 2])

Warnings: implied smut?, 18+, implied dubcon??, degradation

“Wait!” you gasp out again, craning your neck to meet his gaze as best you can from over your shoulder (still without the nerve to pick your hands up off the glass or move your ass away from him). “Wait, we can’t—we shouldn’t, it’s wrong—“

We can’t. It’s wrong. Oikawa rolls your words around in his head and almost wants to laugh again—and he would, if he weren’t so focused on the fact that in a few seconds, he’s going to get what he’s ben wanting for months. You’re perfect, still his dutiful little cheerleader, still so deeply in denial that you can’t even say that he can’t, he shouldn’t, he’s wrong. None of this is your responsibility, but you’re acting like it’s a decision you’re making together. Because you want it too, he knows, he’s sure of it. Just like all his other vapid fans, you’re the same except you’re lucky, because he’s about to give it to you.

“Yeah, it’s wrong.” His voice is low and so close to your ear that you can feel the steam of his breath splay out over the skin of your cheek. “It’s wrong…you’re so sick, wanting it like this. So dirty, my sick little slut, let me make it better. I’ll make it all better, hm? Just stay put and—take it.”

A/N: I also wrote a bunch of iwcb pt. 3 but I really hate what I wrote so I might have to rewrite it, pray for me :(

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ziggyhawthorne · 3 years ago

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hibiscus, holly, lavender, oak, salvia, rose, poppy (many but ily)

[ i. ] HIBISCUS : how does your muse view the gentler, daintier things in life? as things worth preserving & caring for, or things only bound to wither & disappear?

Ziggy is gentle by nature, and his heart really does belong to anything that seems in need of care or protection. His literal job is to foster growth, happiness, well-being — to care for things others might consider useless. To him, nothing is useless, and everything matters a little bit more than we all think. Very much the type to care for anything or anyone broken and tearfully watch as they leave the nest off to bigger and better things. Is he pretty much Hagrid in this sense? Yes — big hair, cool motorbike, crybaby tendencies and all.

[ ii. ] HOLLY : how strong is your muse’s sense of intuition? are they aware of it? do they ever fear that it is only paranoia?

His intuition is ... historically, not great, but not terrible. There’s something about the fact that he’s an idealist who’d rather see people for what they could be rather than what they are that throws his intuition slightly off-kilter. Tends to be a ‘first thought / best thought ( oh shit, maybe that’s not actually the best thought )’ kind of guy. Most truly important decisions have been levied by countless hours of mental spiraling — only to...probably land him at a decision that was better off avoided. In short...meh. Could be better.

[ iii. ] LAVENDER : how easy is it to gain your muse’s trust? once their trust is broken, how might one go about mending it?

Pretty darn easy, honestly? It’s not that he’s necessarily gullible, but he does feel compelled to connect with just about everyone he meets, and so is quite open both in terms of what he offers of himself and how / what he receives from others. Trust is pretty freely given, though there are certain things that he only lets a few in on, and only after some time, shared experiences, etc.

He’s the type to leverage more blame on himself than the person who broke his trust, to constantly question where he went wrong, how what he did led to the betrayal, etc. A good, honest conversation ( with a box of Kleenex nearby ) should mend most things, however.

* gonna put the remaining answers under the cut so as to not clog up the dash bc i have no editing skills, as per *

[ iv. ] OAK : who would your muse consider the strongest person they know?

Ziggy’s definition of ‘strong’ more often aligns with someone who is open, eager to learn, content with their individuality, expressive, compassionate, unafraid of being silly — characteristics he’s always had but chose to close off early in his life before finding them again.

I imagined it’d be hard for him to choose just one person ( shoutout to his friends for all being rock solid in their own way <3 ) but ... He’d likely say Lola, not just because he’s a sappy, heart-eyed flower king but? Because her strength ( in the way he’s come to define the word, at least ) is almost definitely what drew him to her in the first place, and she played a big part in him finding some of those aspects of himself again, so... Yeah. Plus, the cute lil irony of the tiniest person he knows also being the strongest person he knows? What can I say, he’s a sucker for that.

[ v. ] SALVIA : is your muse possessive over people or things that matter a lot to them? how do they express that possessiveness, or lack thereof?

Truthfully, yes — but he’s wary of tapping into his inherent toxic masculinity to display the extremes of those feelings, so he does somewhat hold himself back from showing it altogether. That being said, when it comes to people who matter a lot to him — historically, this is displayed in some kind of self-sacrifice,

[ vi. ] ROSE : how much does your muse value other people? do they wish to have many friends, lovers, and/or associates? are they an easy person to love?

To quote Fleabag — something I imagine Ziggy actually would do lmao — “People are all we’ve got.” He’s a fan of people, has a lot more faith in people than he probably should, and actively wants to see people succeed, especially where marginality comes into play. Prefers to keep the number of close friendships he has to a number that can be counted on ten fingers or less. No limit or ideal number to lovers ( although ... that year in between working politics and flowers was definitely his hoe phase where he likely did have a goal. ) Ideally, he’d like a solid number of associates ( i.e., like-minded political connections ).

I’d like to think he’s easy to love — in general, because he’s a nice dude and pretty much always has been, but especially now that he’s more or less come into his own as this bohemian-individualist-idealist. Possibly best to consult Abe and Lola on if he’s easy to love even when he gets into his head, because uhh... That mental spiraling of his really took ‘em both for a tailspin, huh?

[ vii. ] POPPY : what comforts your muse?

Ziggy Hawthorne is a man of simple comforts — a good cry, a bowl of street corn, walking around the Bowery to look at all the funky street art, DOGS ( the man def thought he’d have a dog by now, okay !! ), John Lewis speeches, a well-rolled blunt, dance / karaoke parties with friends and well-intentioned strangers. Let him have one or all of these on a rough day and he’ll perk right back up, promise!

#*memes » ANSWERED.#lily really said 'for once im asking u to write 1k words' lmao <333 #dont mind me answering last week's meme q's this week

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ruorelabrealis · 3 years ago

Text

Behold the xiaoven oneshot I impulsively wrote without a title;

Notes: I didn't revise this yet so criticize if you must. This ship will be the end of me one day.

He really doesn't want to fight Venti. Xiao thinks as he waits in the room below the stadium, hearing the crowd cheer aa the last battle's winner is declared.

He spends like last seconds before stepping out for the next battle composing himself.

Venti, the Anemo Archon, Xiao knows, is the same boy who plays beautiful melodies on his flute and makes flower crowns for the village children. Just the thought if him beaten up is enough to make Xiao grimace slightly.

Still, He can't let Rex Lapis' name be tarnished just because he would pity this certain bard if he'd see wounded, beaten up, green clothes torn, hair in a mess... He sighs.

He doesn't know the reason why Rex Lapis was so eager to participate in this Mondstadtian event. All he knows is that he is to dutifully follow his every command. This one isn't an exception.

If he thinks about it Rex Lapis has given him far worse requests than this. This wasn't even a big deal.. supposedly. If only he hadn't heard that bard's tune that night.

The huge cage-like door that divides Xiao from the main arena opens, snaps Xiao away from his brooding, and a duplicate of it does the same on the other side.

Across the even grounds of dirt and dust he sees the familiar shades of aqua blue braids and how the wind violently thrashes with the white cecilia kept on his hair and the white hood at the back. Venti is... not wearing his usual attire. This must be the stuff he wears as an archon, Xiao concludes as he assesses the silk garments and flamboyant gold linnings.

He can almost feel it, the smile coming from that direction.

Meanwhile Xiao narrows his eyes at the figure, pulling out his spear and warily stepping half an inch forward when he sees that the other does not draw a weapon.

When the two step out where the shadows no longer proon over them and into the sunlight making it's declaration under the absence of a roof above the battle field.

The crowd's cheers louden. Many cheering for Mondstadt as they were on it's grounds. Familiar faces looking down upon Xiao which he does not need to look back at to know who. They're assessing him.

He could feel the thrill of excitement vibrating from the stands and how Xiao hates being in the spotlight.

The crowd's screams soften into doubtful murmurs when they take in the sight of the Xiao's oponent. What is a mere bard doing battling a skilled adeptus? they must be thinking.

"Boy, get out of there!"

"You're gonna get yourself killed!"

"This is boring we have a clear winner already"

Such idiots they were, Xiao thought. Although he could not really put the blame on them, only few knew of the bard's true identity and those who did either gasp or have a solemn line on their lips.

Against the growing protests and remarks of doubt amongst the people, Venti only grins wider. The mischief never leaving his eyes.

"Xiao, Conquerer of demons, Mighty Yaksha!" Xiao cringes at the call of his name, "versus... Venti.." The anouncer declares with lack of climatic rise at the last part.

"That's my name" He hears the boy chuckle from afar. "So dear adeptus, shall we start?"

Venti's stance is slovenly, showing no conduct of offense or defense. Xiao's grip on his spear tightens. Hesitation begins to flood his senses voices saying 'Him too?' 'No more' He inores them all eyes shut.

He trudges forward with his spear swiftly. The attack is quickly evaded with a burst of wind. Xiao might admit it wasn't his most precise attack but it was one nonetheless and he can't help but feel a gush of relief that it was dodgable.

"How rude, surely we must start with proper introductions, even if we are in a battle field," Venti says after finding his footing, placing his hands on his hips.

"So, who shall go first?"

"I know who you are," Xiao says, they are now on the opposite sides of where they had started.

That statement was meant to cut this conversation short but Venti only beams in pride, "My my how delighted I am that the breeze had blown my name to Liyue. Shall i sign a poster for you?"

"You can drop the act or I'll tell them your true identity right here right now," Xiao says knowing that thr winds would shield the audience from picking up this conversation.

"You wouldn't." Venti challenged. Xiao attempts another front attack with his spear that is evaded again. And another right after that pointing to Venti's head, he ducks.

"Hmph fine, so you already know who I am, What about you then? Do I know you?" Venti says after avoiding all of Xiao's plays.

His patience is wearing away. "Xiao. loyal server of Rex Lapis, yaksha. The announcer told everyone earlier, maybe you were too caught up in presenting yourself to hear."

Venti disregards the remark and frowns, "Your telling me about the warrior, the one who follows commands, I'm not asking for him. I'm asking about you. I want to know who Xiao is."

Xiao beginning to get more frustrated by the constant philosophical sentennces, only ignored that comment and lands another attack only rougher.

"Don't tell me you don't know who he is?" Venti questions after multiple dodges.

Xiao stares dumbfoundedly, spear pointed at the other boy's chest. A meter away from peircing through. "Ofcourse I know who I am,"

"Do you really?"

He stays silent at that and the other boy only frowns more.

"Enough chit chat we want to see action!" A random voice shouts from the crowd. "Yeah!" And a chime of voices agree.

"Alright alright" Venti rolls his eyes at whatever direction, "It seems we have to cut our introductions short, my apologies,"

"No apologies needed." He had opted to make this quick, fewer riddles to think about would help in that matter.

At one point, Xiao notices the crowd getting evidently used to their battle pattern. Attack, Dodge, Attack, Dodge. That was all that was ever seen. Venti never went on an offensive and that was all Xiao did. Neither ran out of stamina.

At one point it's the hundredth or so attack Xiao lands, when the sunny skies suddenly blink to night. Cheering was replaced by the familiar sound of the Dihua flute. And Venti's armour flickers to the green clad attire he normally wears.

When Xiao blinks the world goes back to normal and he realizes that his spear is an inch away from the other boy. He staggers on his feet, aim clumsly redirecting to the empty space beside him.

In the crowd's eyes it looked like Venti has yet again dodged Xiao's attack but those in the battle field could clearly tell that Xiao made a mistake. Venti sees this.

He makes a step forward to the recovering adeptus. "If you have no plan on fighting you should declare a defeat now before time runs out."

"I won't let down Morax's name" Xiao replies, though it, too, sounded to him that he was desperately convincing himself rather than the archon.

Xiao was about to land another attack when the Archon begins drawing out a bow from wherever it came from and shoots Anemo embedded arrows.

Xiao doesn't dodge, he doesn't need to, the arrows are shooting right past him forming a circle with him being it's center.

Is the Anemo Archon belittling him? He was about to ask just so when a bursts of air coming from every direction where the arrows were shot shakes the arena resulting in a cloud of dust in the battlefield.

A smoke screen, he realizes. Had this been his plan all along? The other boy could no longer be seen admist the fog of brown dust and Xiao is ready to defend himself from all attacks he might pull.

What he wasn't ready for was the Archon's body slamming against his, both of them fall on the ground. Venti is ontop of him, pinning both of his arms to the floor. Shit he was caught off guard.

Despite his feeble form the boy's grip manages to keep Xiao pinned to the ground. Had he used less energy than this Xiao would've successfully broken free.

"What makes you think I'd hurt you?" The Archon asks out of nowhere as Xiao struggles to move. Wrong question to ask really, to an adeptus whose been in bloodshed for as long as he knew.

"Get off," He warns.

"I'm sorry, this will only be painful for a little bit," Venti apologizes, to his surprise, looking genuine despite his micheivous demeanour. He bends down to the point where Xiao can't see anything but the bright glow of blue eyes fading to green.

Venti's lips touch his own. Xiao lets out a burst of surprise from the sudden act.

He tries to ignore the alarming amount of heat creeping upon his cheeks as he attempts in breaking their contact.

But then he softens, and how he curses himself for it. He closes his eyes and melts into the other boy's kiss.

As the kiss goes on longer the more his grip is lossening on his spear, the more of his struggling to get out of Venti's hold and protests in his mind die down.

Until he feels Venti pull away and refuses to meet his eyes.

As the other boy's eyes seem to light up, literally, and he can see the reflection of his own glow. He feels a gush of air arise in his viens and flows everywhere throughout his body.

Despite what Venti had said, it isn't painful at all, he notices, only a tad uncomfortable. It's like getting a vaccine shot.

As the unknown gas stems to his inner organs, all the hidden tension in his body completely slips away. He feels numb but the voices in his head disappear. He can no longer move, he can't feel his fingers, legs or anything for that matter.

Then suddenly he remembers Zhongli saying "Acharis Demeanti, An ancient spell only to be used by archons. Causes the victim to be rendered immobile by the touch of an Archon's lips"

He is left there lying on the ground by his spear as Venti walks away. He looks at the clouds that pass by as he remains still.

The cloud of dust that was surrounding them dissipates as a burst of anemo energy is shot out of the boy's hands. Venti stands there, hand on his hips and the other stretched out to wave as the crowds cheer.

"Venti wins!"

Some look to be in confusion. And the millions of murmurs about what could've happened within the vision obstructing cloud of dust that made the strongest adeptus lose.

I'm sorry, he thinks as he sees Zhongli frown from the corners of his eyes.

"Drink this," Venti comes into his view a moment later, looking down so that Xiao could see him. He places a bottle of bright blue liquid onto Xiao's open palm and winks before he's out of sight.

Minutes later when he feels that he can move his fingers enough. He plays with the small glass bottle in his hands and feels the anemo energy stored inside it.

This could be another trick, he ponders. But would Venti be the type to pull another stunt right after a battle. After consideration, he gulps it. It tastes like... Dandelion wine?

Whatever witch brew that was, The trance he was in completely fades as he stands up and leaves the open arena.

"Rex La– Zhongli, my apologies.." He says, guilt rising from his stomach, as they walk out of the stadium amongst the crowd.

Zhongli waves it off. "There is no need for that, I'm not mad" It's hard to tell, he has that same stoic expression. "We should've known he'd pull a trick like that,"

"But"

"You were rendered uncapable of continuing the fight because of his spell, were you not? It isn't anything to apologize about" Zhongli questions.

That only made Xiao feel even worse, for his grip on the weapon had loosened long before the spell had made it's way to his body. But he did not argue any further.

"Now, We ought to find Childe and have dinner–"

Two loud voices in the plaza nearby cut him off. "What was that" A man with blazing red hair crosses his arms.

"Hey, I won didn't i? Now you have to treat me to a years worth of wine haha!" Venti cheers to himself, looking proud and victorious even if from afar he looks like a child being scolded by it's guardian.

"You cheated, didn't you" The taller one acusses.

"Rules don't say anything about me not using magic alright? I won fair and square!" Venti huffs and glances to his side, his eyes widen in delight, "Right Xiao?"

The man in question turns away, embarassed. But Zhongli walks toward them, to his demise.

"My apologies for his actions" The man– Diluc– bows to him, placing one hand to his chest. Zhongli shakes his head stepping forward, while Xiao keeps a distance.

"Although I hate to say this, He's right," Zhongli says proving his statement when his eyebrows crease "Congratulations" He sounds bitter.

"See! I told you so!" Venti turns back to Diluc.

"That doesn't mean you should go smooching around placing the forbidden Archon's spell on people!" Xiao only backs away more at the phrase 'smooching'.

"Adepti," And turns even redder when Venti doesn't correct him about it.

"Not the point." Diluc sighs and brings a hand to his forehead.

"Hmph. I'll make it up to you later Xiao! I promise!" Venti promises to the boy before lightly skipping away, "Now, thou art must be taking my leave! Farewell! For the vin we must retrieve!"

"Where do you think you're going?l!" Diluc shouts but Venti doesn't stop.

"Wine! wine! wine! Here I come!" He says in a sing-song manner and disappears to a burst of feathers before Diluc could reach him.

Xiao thinks he peeks at mirth-filled blue eyes one last time before they vanish, What exactly did he mean by 'make it up to you'.

The endddd tundundun i don't know what to write as a continuation.

#xiaoven #genshin fluff #because i was bored #why did i do this #this is why i can't have nice things #genshin

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thefanficmonster · 4 years ago

Text

Meant To Meet

The Curator (The Dark Pictures Anthology) x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Y/N and the Curator are enjoying an evening at the Repository, treating themselves to the many stories the place has to offer. But none of those books manages to capture Y/N’s attention quite like the person reading them. It’s about time she admitted it.

Requested by Anon. Hello! Sorry to be posting your request so late dear, I’ve been swamped with work and I really apologize for not being able to get to it sooner. Thank you for the request and for your incredible patience. Hope you enjoy the read. Love, Vy ❤

My mind is all over the place. I have a good reason to stay focused but I just can’t find it in me. This is the fifth story the Curator has attempted to read me today, but it’s been a struggle for me to memorize a single word let alone the plot and character names. Therefore, I can recall nothing from any of the passages read so far. I tried to blame it on the stories, but I’m starting to think I’m the problem. Who am I kidding, of course I am! But not entirely. What is a girl to do when she suddenly views someone she sees every day as something more than a friend. Sure, this would be a ridiculous thought if it were heard by anyone else. But not to me. I see perfect sense in it - he’s the only one that truly knows me. He notices the small details, understands how my brain works. He’s got insane insight on me that sometimes is quite scary.

He knows how to make the good moments memorable, the bad moments better, the sad endings into hope and good endings into excitement. He understands what it’s like to be stuck in one place. Literally and metaphorically.

Well, I met him while I was metaphorically stuck in this weird life of mine. I couldn’t figure out where I had come from or where I was going. All I knew was that I needed an escape, but I couldn’t find that either. I was the most hopeless I had ever been.

And then luck suddenly decided to move onto my side, flip a page I couldn’t. Get my life moving again.

I was heading to a job interview in a part of town I had never been in before. You can imagine I was not at all enthusiastic or even the tiniest bit hopeful. After going from one potential job to another, never hearing good news back and having to deal with the heavy heart of never being good enough, I was not looking forward to another rejection. It was a simple job I was going for - a personal assistant for a lawyer. Sure, it was a bit far from my apartment but it was a chance, and Lord knows I was gonna take each and all chances.

Walking down the empty, unfamiliar street, I kept looking at the signs, searching for the name of the lawyer I was supposed to meet with. I tried dialing the phone number I saw in the paper but no one picked up my call. I was already starting to deal with it, convincing myself this was better than a ‘Sorry, you’re not the fit we’re looking for, but we’ll stay in touch’.

I walked to the very end of the street, seeing nothing but signs of old-timey restaurants, barber and antique jewelry shops. It felt like I was in a different decade, not a different part of town. It felt so comfortable and homey and it would’ve been even more appealing if it wasn’t for the eerie vibe it gave off due to the lack of people walking around.

Eventually, I spotted them - two big wooden doors with small colorful windows on top of them. They were the fanciest element of the street, sticking out almost hypnotically. The temptation to invade the inside of the building behind them was eating away at me. One of the doors was even slightly open, like an invitation to walk in and explore what they hid.

No, this could end REALLY badly! Imagine if someone lives there!, I tried telling myself, tried to force my feet to move in any direction just away from the doors. However, they wouldn’t budge. I was stuck in place quite literally this time. Seeing my unmoving state as a sign and against my better judgement, I stepped forward, closing the distance between me and the two giant pieces of polished wood. Before I knew it, I had placed my hand on the golden handle of the slightly opened door and gave it that push that would result in it opening entirely, revealing a very faintly lit, ominous hallway at the end of which was another pair of wooden doors, these much more ordinary. I subconsciously walked in, my feet weighing down the wooden floorboards which were covered by a carpet.

I felt slightly more confident going in, seeing as how the place had no spirit to be a home. It was too dark, too creepy and definitely minimalistic. The walls framing the hallway did have a painting or two on them but even those paintings were rather off-putting, I couldn’t look at them for long. I expected the floorboards to creak with every step I took but they were surprisingly silent, not fulfilling the horror movie cliché I had in mind.

The other pair of doors wasn’t nearly as tempting to open, but I had run out of any hesitations at that point. Pushing them open I was met with a wonderland that seemed to have been created especially for me. Books, old books lining what looked to be an endless amount of shelves. I felt tiny surrounded by knowledge I was yet to discover. I felt a new sense of excitement bubbling up in my stomach, something I hadn’t felt in a while.

“Good afternoon.“ A male voice startled me, coming out of the blue. “How can I help you?“

I quickly turned around, looking for the voice’s owner. Then I saw it - a silhouette of a man sitting in an armchair by the unlit fireplace at the complete opposite end of the gigantic room. In his hands I could see the outline of a large book.

“Um, hello.“ I returned his greeting, making a few steps in his direction shyly, “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to walk in like that I just...“

“Couldn’t help it?“ He cut me off, “Yes, this place does posses a strange power over the people that near it. Well...not all people. You must be quite special.“

I was taken aback by his words. Now at closer proximity, I could see his icy eyes. They were sending me a warm and friendly gaze despite how cold and empty they looked. He was clearly older than me, his attire and overall demeanor fitting in perfectly, not only with this place but with this entire part of town. His silver hair was slicked back, not a single piece of it out of place.

“Uh...thanks?“ I was well aware it sounded more like a question rather than an expression of gratitude to his questionable compliment, “I was actually in search of the office of Mr. Harper. A lawyer in the area. I’m going for a job interview. So, if you could point me in the right direction, I’d really appreciate it.“

The man nodded reluctantly, closing the book and placing it on the carpet with such caution as if it was fragile. He slowly got up, “I’m afraid you’re on the wrong street, Miss. And I’m sorry to inform you the spot you’d be applying for is already taken. Has been for a few days now, actually. Mr. Harper and I are good friends, he told me about it.” A small apologetic smile appeared on his face. “But, I’m not a bearer of bad news entirely. How about I give you a proposition?” He made a pause, scanning my face for a reaction. I raised an eyebrow at him as a signal for him to continue which he did after he got up from his chair, “You see, this place is too big to be kept by a single person. I could use a helping hand. We’ll discuss the paycheck, that won’t be a problem, I can assure you.”

A job. And I won’t even need an interview. Nor any special qualifications. Well-payed. Bonus is that I’ll get to spend my days in the company of so many books. So many stories. Sign. Me. Up!

You can bet I accepted the offer on the spot and I enjoyed every moment on the job since. The Curator, which is the man’s identity as I was soon to find out, was a pleasant, kind man who didn’t hold it against me when I’d drop my cleaning duties to sit on the floor and read a book that had distracted me. Hey, can anyone blame me? A bookworm like me being in the Repository is the equivalent of putting a kid in a toy store. Not to mention he’d read me stories while I was working or on break. What better job could I ask for?

Well....

Fast-forward to now - half a year later - a month ago, I found a far better paying job, a lot closer to home and one that’d allow for me to show my true skills, not just dusting shelves and organizing books and occasionally making tea. So, I was forced to quit, however, that didn’t stop me from coming back to the Repository.

To my dismay I only recently came to terms with the reasoning behind the magnetic energy this place possessed over me. The Curator was right about that pull this place had. For me it was different, though - it wasn’t the place pulling me back.

“Y/N you’re not listening again, are you?“ The Curator’s suddenly more authoritative voice shook my mind out of its wandering state, reminding me that there’s a present I should be living in.

I blink a few times as if awoken from a deep slumber. My eyes meet his and I feel my cheeks reddening under his caring gaze. “Of course I am!”

A smirk starts playing on his lips as if he has already proven his point, “Then tell me: what was Christopher’s dilemma?”

Well shoot, I should’ve expected a question to confirm my nonsense, too bad I didn’t hear a word he has read. “Um...how to end global warming?”

The Curator laughs, closing the book. “Alright, alright, I get that you’re not in the mood to be listening to stories today.” He sets it aside on his desk before leaning back in his chair, “Do not take this out of context, but why did you come today if you didn’t feel up for a read? Actually,” he straightens his posture yet again, “Why do you keep coming here altogether? Once again, don’t mistake this question for anything, I’m just curious. I know it’s far from your home and you either have to walk four miles or waste money on transport, either way, you’re wasting time...” He trails off, having run out of things to say. It probably has something to do with the blank stare I’m giving him unintentionally.

I snap out of it, shaking my head. “Um, isn’t it obvious?” Yeah, isn’t it? Like, whenever I’m around him I feel like I’m holding a big sign that says that I have fallen for my ex-boss - a man rather older than me, mind you. And on top of all that - a man that hasn’t nor will ever look at me with the same

His faint eyebrows raise the tiniest bit, “Obvious? Well, if it is, consider me ignorant.“ The usual smile returns, “Please, enlighten me.“

Am I really gonna do this right now? I mean, he never leaves this place so if I do end up making a fool of myself - which I’m most certainly will - all I have to do to avoid him is avoid coming here. How much do I have to lose? Only him. But then again, I’ve never had him to begin with,

“At first, it was all about the books and stories this place holds. It’s truly magical that way. Then it was the atmosphere, which is directly related to the books...and to you. And then it was only you.“ I pause before cringing and adding, “Please don’t make me elaborate. You can guess what I mean.“

He gives my outburst a slow, indecisive nod. “I see.” He mumbles, “Well, you can always find me here, Y/N. And while I do understand what you mean, I in no way encourage it. However,..” He makes a pause as if asking of me to look at him which I end up doing. Why is beyond me, but as I said, he has an effect on me I cannot describe, “I won’t discourage it either. Who am I to tell you how to feel or not to feel. We’re all human, after all. Except me, of course.” That has become an ongoing joke of him not being human, but I never pay much mind to it. “You deserve better than me, Y/N. Trust me, I know myself and I know you. I advise you let it go.”

The sympathetic look he’s giving me fills me with both shame and comfort. At last I got it off my chest. Sure, I made a fool of myself, but I now feel ten pounds lighter. “Then I’m inclined to listen to you. As of now...” I reach for the book he was reading me minutes ago, “You’ll be listening to me.”

He chuckles, leaning back in his chair once again, “I have nothing against it.”

I feel at peace, reading a story that I was an idiot not to pay attention to the first time. I’m once again reminded that the more a mind wanders, the more frightening things seem. I am now determined to never take my focus off the present. Because that’s the only way to truly live life: In the moment, with a clear head and a chest with nothing to weigh atop it.

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