#it gnaws at me because they were once young boys who were taken in and raised by a kind man and his partner they were their fathers

[arthursfuckinghat]

Thinking about the tragedy of the corrupted father and the abandoned sons.

Arthur watched the man he thought of as a father crumble like the dying embers of a campfire, each spark a piece of trust just lost to the wind.

And it gnawed at him, the man who once gave him purpose had led him into shadows, leaving him to face the embrace of death alone.

Dutch turned his back on Arthur, and then turned his back again to John.

The weight of love, trust, and loss all rolled into one painful spiral. The cycle carried on.

[sincerelystranger]

read on AO3

---

Nie Huaisang fans his face nervously as Xichen watches quietly from across the room.

He’s not quite turned away from Xichen, but he doesn’t seem to be able to look at Xichen either. His eyes keep flickering back and forth from the wall behind Xichen to the floor.

Every single one of Huaisang’s actions seems to scream discomfort, maybe even fear. It occurs to Xichen that it’s strange behavior for someone who invited themselves over. It also occurs to him that at one point in his life, he wouldn’t even have noticed the behavior as strange.

At one point in Xichen’s life, he would have readily believed Huaisang’s act.

He doesn’t now.

He doesn’t know what to believe anymore.

And he thinks maybe that’s what hurts the most.

He thinks that maybe that inability to trust his own judgement is what keeps him locked in seclusion, torturing himself over the things he missed and the things he once believed.

Maybe.

He sits in silence, just watching Nie Huaisang. He’s not sure if he’s surprised by Nie Huaisang’s visit, or if a part of him expected him all this time. The only thing he knows is this:

Nie Huaisang somehow looks altogether too much and not enough like da-ge and Xichen can’t tell whether he hates him for that or not.

Nie Huaisang clears his throat suddenly, the sound is almost deafening in the heavy silence of Xichen’s room.

“Ah… You look… well, er-ge,” he says weakly, still not meeting Xichen’s eyes, “Wei-Xiong made it seem as if… well…” He trails off, briefly making eye contact with Xichen before dropping his gaze back to the floor.

Xichen isn’t surprised by the mention of Wei Wuxian.  

Of course Wei Wuxian would have something to do with this. Of course.

“Wei-Xiong said that you weren’t well – that you didn’t want visitors… I mean… of course… you’re still in seclusion…” Nie Huaisang stumbles over his words. Xichen can see his hand shaking slightly as he continues to fan his face.

That does surprise him though – the fact that Wei Wuxian advised against Nie Huaisang visiting Xichen.

With how nosy Wei Wuxian has been throughout Xichen’s time in seclusion, he would have thought that Wei Wuxian had had a hand in Nie Huaisang’s visit.

“Wei Wuxian advised against your visit?” Xichen asks, curiosity opening his mouth.

Nie Huaisang seems surprised by Xichen’s voice. The fan goes still in his hands. “He… did,” he nods, “Wei-Xiong… He… Well I don’t think he trusts me… anymore.” There’s a small self-deprecating smile on his face as he admits this. He looks to the ground again before slowly bringing his gaze up to meet Xichen’s eyes. He gives Xichen a weak smile. “I guess you don’t either, do you, er-ge?”

Xichen guesses he should have expected it, but it still catches him off-guard to be confronted so openly.

Somehow it seems… out of character for Huaisang.

But then…

What does Xichen know of Huaisang’s character anyway?

“I… I just don’t know why you did what you did,” Xichen admits. And it’s the closest thing to the truth that he can stomach to say. Because… because even after everything. Even after the manipulation and betrayal and years of being lied to. He still…

Well he’s still Nie Huaisang’s er-ge, isn’t he?

It’s one of the only things he’s been able to come to terms with in his time in seclusion: The people Xichen loves may do monstrous things, but Xichen will love them anyway. He can’t help himself. Once he loves, he doesn’t know how to stop.

Nie Huaisang is quiet for a while. He slowly lowers his fan to his lap. He looks more vulnerable, sat there without the fan covering part of his face.

Even after everything, it makes Xichen’s heart ache for him. Even after everything, Xichen wants to call him close, ask him how he can help wipe that sadness from his face.

He doesn’t though.

He stays quiet.

“It’s already been eight years since da-ge died,” Huaisang says slowly, “Next year, I’ll be older than he ever got to be.”

Logically it’s something Xichen has known for a while. He’s been older than da-ge for years now. But it still churns his stomach to hear those words come out of Huaisang’s lips. To be hit with the realization that da-ge has truly been dead for so long. It seems… so impossible. Da-ge is still so fresh in Xichen’s memory.

“It’s strange,” Huaisang continues quietly, “In my memory da-ge is always so much older than me. Always such an… adult. When father died and da-ge became the sect leader, I remember thinking, ‘of course.’ Because da-ge already seemed so grown up at the time. So sure of himself.” Huaisang wipes absently at the floor and huffs a small laugh. “Now I wonder how the elders could have been so cruel as to put all that responsibility onto such a young boy.”

A lump forms in Xichen’s throat.

“Da-ge was always… good,” Xichen says stupidly, “He never shied from responsibility… he always gave everything his… best.”

Nie Huaisang huffs another small laugh. “Da-ge was always good,” he agrees. “If the world could have been as good as he was – if I could have been as good as he was – everything might be different now.”

The room goes quiet again at Huaisang’s small confession.

Xichen can’t find it in himself to disagree or to comfort, because he thinks the same. Maybe if he could have been as good as da-ge, everything might’ve ended differently. Maybe if Xichen hadn’t questioned da-ge’s judgement… Maybe if Xichen had just trusted da-ge…

Maybe…

“He… loved you er-ge. Did you know?”

“Of course,” Xichen answers, a little taken aback by Huaisang’s question.

“No,” Huaisang says with a shake of his head. “He loved you… as a man. Did you know?”

The center of gravity seems to have changed in the room. Xichen feels… tilted. Unmoored.

“He – da-ge… he didn’t,” Xichen tries to explain slowly, a slow panic crawling up his spine. Da-ge didn’t – he couldn’t. Da-ge never saw Xichen like that…

Never…

“He did,” Huaisang says, something stubborn bleeding into his voice.

Xichen shakes his head. He doesn’t know where Huaisang got this idea but…

“He didn’t, Huaisang,” Xichen says, “I… I…” It’s humiliating to have to own to it. How does Huaisang always manage to put him into this situations? Situations where he has to cut his heart open with his own hand. “I confessed to him when we were… younger.”

Da-ge had been kind when he refused Xichen.

His hand had been gentle and warm on Xichen’s shoulder and his eyes had been deep and kind. “I can’t be that for you. I’m sorry.”

But he still stayed Xichen’s friend.

Still stayed Xichen’s… da-ge.

“He refused you because he thought….” Huaisang stammers, “He… he said…”

Xichen’s heart drops to his stomach. Something cold makes its way towards his chest. He said? Da-ge had… He had talked about Xichen’s confession to Huaisang?

“What,” Xichen asks, a nervous hunger gnawing at his throat. “What did da-ge say?”

“He said you deserved better than a man destined for madness,” Huaisang says finally.

It feels like a cruel joke.

Another manufactured cruelty from Huaisang. Another upturned grave that Xichen will have to cover with his hands.

“You… Don’t lie to me, Huaisang,” Xichen says, and he’s ashamed by the way his voice trembles. “Da-ge… He never…”

“He was always doing these foolish things,” Huaisang says, his voice cracking, as tears spill from his eyes. “Always giving up parts of his happiness for the people he loved.”

A sob escapes from Xichen’s lips. He hurries to cover his mouth so more don’t shamefully spill out but it’s no use. Da-ge couldn’t… He…

But of course he would.

“He did it for me too,” Huaisang continues, his lips trembling, his whole body taut as he tries to control his sobs. “And I didn’t know either, er-ge. I never realized until it was too late. All the things—“ Huaisang folds in on himself, his hand coming up to cover his eyes as he cries. “—All the things he gave up for me. All the things he turned a blind eye to because he knew I loved them.”

The room dissolves into quiet sobs.

And it’s a little funny, Xichen thinks, even though Huaisang is tearing out the seams in Xichen’s heart that Xichen just barely put in. Even though Huaisang has brought with him so much hurt and anger and confusion. It’s still… comforting to cry with someone who Xichen knows misses da-ge as much as Xichen does. There’s still a twisted sense of camaraderie there.

When the wave passes and the sobs quiet, Huaisang straightens back up. He wipes gingerly at his face with his sleeve. Xichen is reminded of all the times he watched Huaisang do the same action when he was just a child. Da-ge would have reprimanded him, Xichen thinks. Da-ge would have tossed Huaisang his handkerchief.

Because as wild and brutish as da-ge was reputed to be… he was… proper like that. Gentler than anyone imagined he could ever be.

That was one of the things Xichen had loved about him.

Huaisang lets out a shaky exhale. He’s twisting his sleeves between his fingers nervously. Even now, it seems impossible to Xichen that Huaisang – sweet and spoiled Huaisang – could have lied to him for so long. It seems impossible that the Huaisang he knows – the Huaisang sitting in front of him – could have orchestrated the downfall of Mengyao.

It seems impossible, and yet…

“You say that you don’t know why I did the things I did,” Huaisang says, his voice soft and scratchy from his tears, “And if I’m honest, I didn’t understand myself either.” He looks up and Xichen then and gives a helpless shrug. “It’s so unlike me. Right, er-ge? All this planning and scheming and… and just all this work to destroy someone I love. It was torturous for me – it really was, er-ge. But...”

Xichen doesn’t move. He doesn’t make a sound. It feels like he’s at the edge of a cliff. What Huaisang says next will most certainly push him over but he’s still waiting… He doesn’t know how to do anything else.

“I think… I think I was punishing myself,” Huaisang says, “I think I was punishing myself for loving san-ge – for letting my love blind me to his evil deeds.”

Xichen’s heart drops to the bottom of his stomach. He feels slightly nauseous.

Huaisang drops his gaze from Xichen’s eyes to the ground just in front of Xichen. “And for what I did to you at Guanyin Temple… I… I think in a way… I wanted to punish you too.”

He’s falling. He’s been pushed off the cliff and he’s falling.

It’s a lot more freeing than he thought it would be. It almost feels like flying.

Punishment.

Was that all it was?

All this confusion and loss and pain and confusion and loss and loss and pain…

Just punishment?

A strange laughter bubbles from Xichen’s lips before he can even control it.

“Sorry,” he says, quickly bringing his hand to cover his mouth. Shamefully enough, the laughter spills over again. “Sorry.” But it’s not enough. The laughter forces itself out of his body. He can’t help himself. He feels insane, but he’s laughing and it won’t stop. “Sorry, I’m so sorry. I’m so—”

Xichen can almost feel Huaisang’s surprise but he can’t help himself. The laughter won’t stop. And strangely, after a few moments of his unhinged laughter, he hears…

He looks up, his vision clouded slightly by the strange tears his strange laughter has created and to his surprise… Huaisang is laughing too.

Seeing Huaisang laugh plants more seeds of laughter in Xichen. He can’t stop now – even if he tried. The laughter bubbles over. Huaisang’s laughter waters Xichen’s laughter and it grows and grows and…

Punishment.

That was all it was.

All this pain and loss and confusion and it was just… punishment.

How ridiculous.

---

The night of Huaisang’s visit, Xichen steps outside for the first time since he started his seclusion.

In the dark of night, the world seems all at once strange and inviting.

Cloud Recesses, of course, is quiet. All the disciples having gone to sleep long ago.

Xichen feels safer, with that knowledge that he’s alone. That he won’t run into anyone who—

“Xichen-ge!” a voice surprises him from his thoughts. He turns towards the voice and sees Wei Wuxian and…. Wangji.

Wei Wuxian visits him often enough that it shouldn’t be such a surprise to see him, but it feels different seeing him outside the confines of his room. Xichen feels self-conscious suddenly. Like his arms are too long and maybe his hair is untidy.

“Wei… gongzi,” he nods after a shocked moment, “Wangji.”

Wei Wuxian waves him over as Wangji nods back. “We’re taking a walk,” Wei Wuxian exclaims, “The night is cool and the stars are bright. Come join us, Xichen-ge!”

It’s all so ridiculous, Xichen thinks as he takes a heavy step forward, out of the gate and towards the path.

How ridiculously easy it is to leave the jail he created for himself. How ridiculously normal it feels for Wei Wuxian to ask him to join him on a night walk – as if Xichen hasn’t trapped himself between four walls for years.

Wei Wuxian and Wangji separate to make room for him. It’s a small act of kindness, Xichen realizes, and he takes it because it does feel a little safer to walk between them.

Such a childishness, he thinks, still too bare to the world to feel any embarrassment from it. But he does feel safe. Wangji feels… taller… and sturdier than Xichen remembers him being. And Wei Wuxian… Well is there anyone more reliable to walk the dark night with than Wei Wuxian?  

“Look!” Wei Wuxian says, pointing up at the sky. “Isn’t the moon beautiful tonight?”

Xichen follows Wei Wuxian’s finger up.

The moon is round and heavy. It looks so close that it feels like Xichen might be able to touch it if he just reaches up.

“It’s beautiful,” he agrees softly.

“It’s like it knew you would come out to see it today, Xichen-ge,” Wei Wuxian nods happily. “Don’t you think so, Lan Zhan?”

Wangji hums his agreement as they keep walking.

Happiness sits hot and heavy in Xichen’s chest. He feels safe and free and…

“I think we’ve had enough punishment,” Huaisang had said before he left. “You and… me too, er-ge.” He had looked at Xichen then and had given him a smile – a real smile. No hint of sadness in his face at all. “Da-ge always wanted the people he loved to be happy… so I think it’s time to do that. Don’t you think so, er-ge?”

He hadn’t answered Huaisang as he left but he agrees quietly in his heart now.

He’s lost and lost and lost and he’s sat in that loss for years. Yearning and searching and looking for an answer that wasn’t there – ignoring the world outside his room for years and choosing punishment day after day because… because maybe he thought he deserved it.

And still…

The moon is beautiful.

And still, his family welcomes him back.

[guqin-and-flute]

Are You Here to Stop Me?--Chapter 4

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [First post in Peony to Lotus Verse]

[Ao3 Series]

[I had the hardest time shaking this man and making plot fall out, he was wholly uncooperative.]

This was all such fucking disaster.

A-jie was sick, the Jiang were once again yanked into a political fiasco that they had to pay for with their own reputation, there was a fierce corpse puppet in his home--a home that, apparently, had already been invaded by the Jin Clan demanding answers to said political fiasco while its master wasn’t even there. In a few days time, it would be invaded again by strange Wens he didn’t know or want.

If his mother were alive, she would kill him. He would probably deserve it. He didn’t know what his father would think. He would probably be disappointed--either that he didn’t think of it in the first place or for his resentment.

He stood frozen by the door, anxiously watching Wen Qing treat a barely conscious A-jie. It wasn't like he had never seen his sister feverish and weak before, but it scared him the same every single time. To know that she was in pain and he couldn’t do anything about it. To know that this could be the illness that would take her from him. That this could be the last time that….He gnawed on the inside of his cheek and folded his arms tight across his chest to keep them from fidgeting at his sides.

Jin Guangyao seemed to think everything was under control--at least, that’s what he had said. It would have been far more comforting if it hadn’t been in such a distant voice while being unable to look away from A-jie. Clutching her hand in a white knuckled grip. Expression all strained and pale with badly concealed terror.

This is your plan! Jiang Cheng wanted to scream as he clenched his aching fists. I did this because you said it would work! You’re the one that’s supposed to know what you’re doing!

What he wouldn’t give to actually know what the hell he was doing. Being an adult couldn’t just be this, right? Just guessing and grasping around in the dark, tripping like you’re wearing your father’s too big robes? Every other person he met seemed to be controlled and mature, while he was barely treading water--hell, even Wei Wuxian did the things he did with confidence. It had to get better at some point, because, right now, this mess was embarrassing--enraging. But most of all, it was terrifying.

What the hell should he do? What was right?

A-jie kept breathlessly trying to tell them all that she was alright, that they should rest and continue preparing. But she could barely keep her eyes open. Her head lolled around like a floppy doll. Every once in a while, she was wracked with violent, hacking coughs that shook her and left her gasping.

When she whispered Jiang Cheng’s name and raised a trembling hand as Wen Qing stepped away to prepare something, he practically dove to her side, his knees slamming painfully into the floor in his haste. Clasping her hand in both of his, he found it freezing, so he chafed it gently between his palms. “A-jie?”

“You...must be...so tired.” She smiled weakly, eyes slurring to the Wen child who had fallen asleep on the other pillow, leaving grubby little smudges all over the bedding. “All of you. I’m fine. Go. Sleep.” Even this short speech left her breathless, then coughing, wet and harsh. She trembled as Jin Guangyao helped her sit up and held her close, stroking her back.

Jiang Cheng hated everything about this. He was going to kill Wei Wuxian.

She wasn’t wrong, though. His limbs felt like practice weights, his overworked core throbbed like a pulled muscle within him. (His core? Wei Wuxian’s core? The core? This reminder burrowed in him like a barbed arrow every time he remembered again, further and further since the night he had learned it. Regret and anger and nausea, swimming and hot, every day, every fucking day. A stranger inside himself, but not. Another thing he was helpless to.)

When A-Jie finally dropped into unconsciousness not long after, Wen Qing announced that under no circumstances should she be allowed to exert herself for the next few days, until she could sit up on her own and breathe without wheezing. “The fluid in her lungs has worsened,” she told the two of them, voice still hoarse. “But since I have access to the supplies here, her fever should hopefully break sometime tonight. She shouldn’t be in any immediate danger but she will have to take her medicine on a strict schedule.”

“She will,” Jin Guangyao agreed immediately, thumb smoothing repeatedly over the back of A-jie’s limp hand. “Just tell me when and I’ll do it.”

When Jiang Cheng finally stood to leave, just about every muscle from the base of his skull to the tendons at his heels screamed and gods, he wanted a bath and sleep and for this to not be happening. Wen Qing collected the still sleeping boy, and Jin Guangyao rose, seeing them all out into the hall before bowing, sharp and deep. “Thank you, Wen-guniang.”

Damn. Jiang Cheng hastily followed suit and bowed. You tactless asshole. She watched them both with weary eyes, expression as closed as it had been for days, but she inclined her head to accept. “Come get me immediately if anything changes.”

Straightening, Jin Guangyao nodded, his habitual smile nowhere to be seen, drained and serious. “I will. I’m going to stay up to watch her.”

Her eyes narrowed warily. But she only nodded.

The entire trip leading her through Lotus Pier to her prepared room was silent.

Jiang Cheng knew he should say something. He wanted to say something--to thank her more personally for A-jie’s care or tell her that she would be safe here, that when he made a promise, he kept it (unlike some people.) Maybe reassure her that this wasn’t a ploy by him to corner her, that this was honestly a waking nightmare he kept wishing he would wake up from.

That this wasn’t how he had imagined marrying her. As a last resort. As a trap.

Instead, he was silent. Nothing he had to say would come out right and he would either sound like an ass or an idiot. Or both.

She was just as quiet, anyway, drifting behind him like some sort of mourning wraith, carrying the limp child. The only sounds were their footsteps, distant murmurs, and the frogs droning from their intermittent little ponds and from the lake beyond. Chill from the young evening settled into their still damp, days old clothes. The clean, living scent of the water was comforting, so at least there was that.

He wondered if it just smelled like mud to her.

When they came to the room, he saw that the lanterns and the incense burner were already lit, and a while ago, judging by how thickly the scent of jasmine and musk lay over everything. It was one of the nicest guest suites, with a wide bed, wispy purple wall hangings, and intricate lotus blossoms crawling up in carvings on the screens. It occurred to him suddenly that it might seem horribly insensitive to remind her exactly where she was and why. Tacky. He ground his teeth.

Wen Qing staggered right by him into the room without a glance, practically collapsing across the bed to lay the boy down. Angry? Disgusted? Done with him, whichever it was. But Jiang Cheng stayed by the door, fingers worrying at the thick fabric of his robe, running the edge of his nail along the weave as she tucked the blanket up to the boy’s chin. The need to say something--anything--was becoming too much to bear. “I’m sorry it isn’t very big.”

Her voice was dull and she didn’t even turn around. “It’s fine, Jiang-zongzhu.”

Fuck.

“You don’t have to...you can call me Jiang Wanyin,” he said, because he was apparently very stupid. The slow, disbelieving look she gave him over her shoulder was well deserved. “You don’t have to,” he added, because he apparently was not done being stupid. I mean, you’ve literally cut me open before, so I figured….

“...Alright.”

Jiang Cheng wanted to melt into the floor. Or possibly die. His mouth worked around his grimace of self disgust and he managed, “I’ll have the servants send in a bath.”

She sagged back on her heels beside the bed, still looking over at him. “Where is A-Ning?”

Oh. Right. “Probably….” Actually, he had no idea where Wei Wuxian had taken him. His room? The idea of that puppet leaking black resentful energy and lying on his childhood bed seemed ridiculous. “With Wei Wuxian,” he finished, lamely. “I’ll find out.”

Her gaze transferred to the floor, eyes unseeing and darkened by smudges of dirt and exhaustion. She was still quite pretty, but it was a gaunt, unkempt sort of beauty. The silence stretched, uncomfortable. He should have let a servant show her to the room. She was waiting for him to leave, she didn’t want to be anywhere near him.

“Thank you,” she said, suddenly, just as he turned around to simply leave, saving them both the agony. “For doing this.”

His jaw tightened and he kept his eyes locked on the light wood of the column right outside her door. Instead of anything helpful or comforting, what came out was a low, unplanned, “Why didn’t you come to me.” She had the comb. She had to. It had been gone when he came back to check and he had thought...hoped….

Skin on fabric. She was probably looking at him, and so kept his shoulders rigid, back straight.

“I didn’t know if you would help.” Her voice was quiet, not angry or accusatory. But his fists clenched as heat flooded his face, his head throbbing. ‘You're untrustworthy and selfish and immature. Why the hell would I trust you?’

He was fucking this up. Again. Useless.

Jiang Cheng refused to dig himself a deeper hole. About 10 minutes too late. Without a word, he stopped darkening her door. Instead of going to his room and ordering a bath like he should have, he looked for Wei Wuxian, blood pulsing in his ears. Stalking through the halls, he scattered several anxious servants in his wake like ripples behind him.

When he found him, he actually was in his room, though the puppet was on an extra mattress on the floor instead of on the bed like Jiang Cheng had imagined. The room reeked of resentful energy--sour, burning, metallic. Old bile and blood and worse. Wei Wuxian himself was hunched over it with a brush and seemed to be adding to the fluttering layer of talismans that already festooned the prone form. It even took a minute for him to realize Jiang Cheng was in the doorway, but when he did, he leapt to his feet, haggard face anxious. “Shijie?”

“...Sleeping.”

“What did Wen Qing say? Will she be alright?”

“No thanks to you.”

Wei Wuxian’s shoulders sagged and he blew out a breath. Then, he perked up, coming over to gently shake Jiang Cheng by the shoulders with a reproachful smile. “Ah, Jiang Cheng, lead with that next time, will you? You appear at my door looking like you’re about to avenge someone, what am I supposed to think?”

Smacking Wei Wuxian’s hands off his shoulders didn’t do anything to change his attitude. He just grimaced playfully and said, “Ow, careful! Now be nice, we’ll all be in trouble if you damage these hands,” while wiggling his fingers. It made the sharp rage in Jiang Cheng’s chest flare. It made him want to punch his stupid face.

“This is your fault.”

At this point, it was like they pulled out a script book for some overdone play, a rulebook outlining the steps to their fight. The brush off. Wei Wuxian looked past him, craning his head to peer out the door. “Where’s Wen Qing and A-Yuan? I wanted to tell her how Wen Ning is doing.”

The jab. “Are you even listening to me?”

Wei Wuxian rolled his eyes at him, shrugging his shoulders as if letting the words just slide off of him with a stretch of his arms. The dismissal. “Ah, you’re always scolding me, so what’s the point in listening to you when you’re just saying the same things you have been for days? I’ll pay attention when you say something new. You’re so predictable.”

The snap; Jiang Cheng snarled, “How’s this, then? It’s your fault that A-jie is so sick.” He jabbed Wei Wuxian in the chest with his finger, knocking him back a step, pursuing. “It’s your fault if the Jin decide to wipe us all out again.” Another jab, another step. The insouciant air slid from Wei Wuxian’s face--instead, it was tight, the beginning of regret.

“Listen--”

“This is your fault and you’re not even sorry.”

A deep breath. “Jiang Cheng--”

He needed him mad. He needed him to stop moving away. “You weren’t thinking of anyone but yourself, like you always do. You’re making me take in and marry the people who killed my parents to protect you.” He could see Wei Wuxian bristle--because he knew it wasn’t quite true, it wasn’t really fair but Jiang Cheng didn’t care.

“What are you even saying? They’ve both saved us a hundred times over! These people are innocent, they were being brutalized, I had no choice--!”

“You always have a choice!” Jiang Cheng was shouting, now. “You just choose the one that causes the biggest scene! First you embarrass me in front of all the other Clan Leaders, then you kill Jin disciples and steal their prisoners--!”

“What right did they have to treat them that way? What crime did they commit?! I’m supposed to just leave them?!”

His outrage just fed the fury burning through Jiang Cheng, roaring in his ears, and he wanted to take his brother by the throat and shake him. He wanted him to be just as hurt and terrified as he was. He wanted him to stop acting so fucking noble, like it meant anything anymore after everything they had been through. His lungs burned from the resentful energy hanging in the air. Zidian sparked once, sizzling. “You always need to be the center of attention. Well congratulations, everyone’s looking at us, now! Aren’t you such a fucking hero? Isn’t it nice to have a shield that will rise up against every stupid thing you decide to do? When will it be enough?”

Wei Wuxian’s swallowed hard, jaw tight, eyes shining. “Do you think I wanted this?” He asked quietly, and Jiang Cheng had to bark a laugh that tasted bitter.

“No. I don’t think you thought at all. You just did whatever you wanted and expected the Jiang Clan to clean up after you.”

At this, Wei Wuxian looked away at the wall, shoulders bunched up, hands in fists at his side. “I wasn't...” he said tightly. “I was going to go. To take them--”

“Where?”

“I don’t know!” He snapped. “Somewhere I could keep them safe! I thought...maybe the Burial Mounds.”

A chill flooded through Jiang Cheng and he stared. “Are you insane? That hellhole?”

Wei Wuxian was still looking at the wall, though he swallowed again. “I could...control the resentful energy. Make it safe.” He clenched his jaw. “It doesn’t matter.”

The thought alone had him reeling. Wei Wuxian really had been going to do it. He really would have left, after everything. After promising to rebuild Lotus Pier with him, to support him. After Jiang Cheng had fought so hard to find him the 3 months when he had been missing. After Jiang Cheng had stood by him when the war ended and everyone had started whispering about sinister ulterior motives--did Wei Wuxian have no concept of how this looked? “And do what? Establish your own Sect? Build your own empire? Should I call you Wei-zongzhu from now on?”

Wei Wuxian recoiled, face screwed up in disbelief as he finally faced him again. “No! What? No! Jiang Cheng, don’t be an idiot. I was going...I was going to take care of it myself. I wasn’t going to ask or involve you. I didn’t--I was going to handle it.”

That rage condensed and dropped sourly into his gut like sick. That was worse. That was so much worse. ‘I didn’t know if you would help.’ He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He wanted that cleansing fury back. “Nice fucking job.”

Wei Wuxian vented a short, mirthless chuckle, shaking his head. “Shut up.”

“You don’t get to tell me to shut up.”

“I just d--” Wei Wuxian stopped himself, jaw working. When he spoke again, it was with careful containment. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“What a stupid thing to say, of course I did,” Jiang Cheng snapped back. “What other choice did I have?”

“You could have just let me go. I would have been fine. You didn’t need to…you don’t need to put yourself out on my account.”

He would have preferred he had just fucking stabbed him. Honestly. Then who the fuck was he? Some acquaintance? Some stranger? To not ‘put himself out’--

He was really that easy to leave behind? Just that unremarkable, unneeded, unwanted? That every option, even the Burial Mounds where he had been trapped was preferable to staying with him in the home he had rebuilt with blood and sweat, plank by plank for them--for them, the only family he had left in this world.

What was so broken about Jiang Cheng that no one could possibly just love him as he was? What did he have to do to stop people from leaving him?

He wanted to stab Sandu through the corpse that used to be Wen Ning’s chest, tear off the talismans and throw him in the lake for the fish to take out of sight. To seize Wei Wuxian and scream; Stop letting go of me!

“Well, aren’t you so brave. Aren’t you so noble,” gritted out, all dark and vile, and Wei Wuxian flinched and Jiang Cheng would have felt triumphant if he didn’t feel so fucking awful instead.

“I had to.”

“You had to.”

Wei Wuxian said nothing. But he didn’t look ashamed. He just looked tired.

“Right. Because you’re so strong and powerful and right, always, and I’m the asshole who doesn’t care enough.”

“You know I never said that.”

“But that’s what you think. You still think that I didn’t do enough. That I didn’t do the right thing.”

Instead of fighting back--instead of denying it--Wei Wuxian let out a loud breath, shook his head and turned away to drop himself heavily beside the mattress on the floor. This retreat left Jiang Cheng completely empty. His nails cut into his palm and he was shaking all over, staring down at Wei Wuxian as he picked up another talisman, not looking at him. They had had this conversation already, in fits and starts on the race back to Lotus Pier, but hadn’t been able to fully say any of this around A-jie or the Wen’s and so had just jabbed at each other for days. But here, it was all unraveling at once like too tight bandages coming off. He craved a conclusion--the give and take of a shouting match or the clarity of a split lip and Wei Wuxian wasn’t giving it to him.

Couldn't. If it came to blows, Jiang Cheng would just hurt him.

And why was that, again?

His brother's face was gaunt as he ignored him, eyes shadowed, fingers raw and red with blood and cinnabar. Still working. Giving. He was always giving of himself to everyone. His protection, his trust, his love, his time.

His core.

Just more proof that he was better; kinder, more generous, better in every way. Well. Not every way, now. The overworked core gave an untimely twinge. But that even bore his fingerprints, didn’t it? His sacrifice. (He had tried so hard, so fucking hard to give Wei Wuxian something that only he could give, the only protection, the only apology Jiang Cheng had left for what he had blamed him for. And he had shoved it right back like an unwanted gift.)

Jiang Cheng wasn't special, though. That knowledge bristled in his throat like knives, now. What he had done for Jiang Cheng wasn't because he loved him--apparently, it was because it was the right thing to do.

And Wei Wuxian always did the right thing. He would have done it for anyone.

Jiang Cheng's eyes went to the talismans fluttering in the dark breeze. It was the Cloud Recesses, the Yin Iron, the oh-so-perfect-and-peerless-and-interesting-Lan-Wangji all over again. Leaving Jiang Cheng behind to go be a hero because he just didn’t fucking matter enough to keep around. Because Wei Wuxian thought he was pathetic and selfish.

Jiang Cheng’s eyes were burning, his voice shaking when he spat, “Great. Then just keep trying to make yourself a better shidi out of that thing. I’m sure it will never stop kissing your ass.”

On his way back to his room, he snapped at a young servant girl to order a bath for Wen Qing. She practically ran.

Nice fucking job, idiot.

Crashing face first onto his bed, he fell into unconsciousness immediately.

[alicemitch09writes]

lame

02.

everything has changed (whether we like it or not)

When did everything change?

That was an easy question to answer, really. But there was more to it.

Everything could go back to the time Bakugouu first discovered his quirk in kindergarten, he had just turned 5, during playtime, he playfully shoved you before you felt force, heat – an explosion, before faceplanting to the ground.

Little Izuku ran towards you, helping you off your feet. Meeting the panicked look in your best friend’s eyes, you turned back to the blond, staring at his palms in awe, at the little explosions emitting off his sweat.

Funny enough, whenever he sweats, it was always sweet-smelling, never foul or salty.

“Uwah, amazing quirk, Katsuk!” your teacher said, kneeling down to give your best friend an appraising look.

Carmine eyes looked up from his palm, tiny explosives going off excitedly.

“Cool! His quirk’s so cool!”

“It’s so radical, just like him!”

Beside you, Izuku’s eyes sparkled with excitement, happy for your best friend for finally manifesting his own quirk.

“Kacchan’s amazing!”

Discovering your quirk at such a young age, especially with an amazing quirk, should be exciting. However, the look in Katsuki’s carmine eyes was scaring you.

The more he was praised for his quirk, the more his explosions went off, the more the gleam in his eyes was scaring you.

Who is…? What is this?

“Ah, I see. I’m just awesome, and everyone else isn’t!”

Later that day, a small burnt mark was found at the back of your neck. A tell-tale reminder of what’s to come.

And then, Izuku found out that he was quirkless.

It was supposed to be a secret between the three of you, but somehow, everyone caught wind of it and began avoiding Izuku, lest they get caught with his ‘quirkless’ germs. Because you were with him a lot, not showing signs of quirk, kids easily assumed that the quirkless germs were true.

Was that when things changed?

After kindergarten, Katsuki found himself a new set of friends, those who weren’t quirkless like you and Izuku, friends who had cool quirks that could considerably pass up to his.

Since discovering his quirk, not only did it fuel his ego, but it also put a strain on your once impenetrable and inseparable friendship.

Now, he was more bent on being the best of the best, together with his amazing quirk that’ll surely bring him there no problem.

Everyone else were just beneath him, not worth his time, effort, or breath. Especially Deku – how you detested that nickname, so full of malice, disgust, and mockery – everything Izuku didn’t deserve, especially from his once best friend.

Since then, he’s deserted the two of you.

You didn’t care, you had Izuku.

Fuck Bakugou and his new quirk, ambition, and shittiness.

You didn’t need him anyway.

From: Izuku

To: (Name)

(Nickname)! I’m doing well. Just having lunch with my classmates right now!

[image.txt]

Tapping the photo, you could see Izuku smiling at the camera with a few friends in the shot – the brown-haired girl, Uraraka Ochako, the bespectacled boy, Iida Tenya, and the quiet boy, too busy eating his soba, Todoroki Shouto. It made you smile in return, having your own lunch as of texting. 

To: Izuku

From: (Name)

You better eat up, then. You hear me?

Also, stop being so reckless and take care, okay?

Right after the events at UA – the whole League of Villains intercepting the school, Izuku was, more than ever, always brought to the clinic. And you, being one of his immediate contacts (next to his mom), would rush over just to check on him, fighting a tooth and nail just to be with him. And time and time again, Izuku would give you an apologetic smile, matched with his unyielding assuring words, kind eyes, and warm hug.

The only thing you ever hated about Izuku is his recklessness, wrought by his strong sense of justice.

Having enough of everything he’s been through, it was only fair that he revealed something to you, something to explain a bit of him getting accepted at one of the most prestigious schools in Japan while bearing an almost enduring and testy quirk, a secret he knew he could only entrust to you because you were one of the few people Izuku trusted more than anything in the world – his quirk was not his, but it was passed down to him by All Might.

The revelation was shocking to you, especially because it was tied along with so many other factors you couldn’t begin to fathom. But with enough explanation, eventually, everything seemed to tie together and make better sense.

Although worried about his well-being, once again, Izuku was quick to assure you that he was working his best to make everyone – not just his idol, All Might – proud and safe. That was more than enough for you.

Still, it was such a big secret to bear. But, obviously, he trusted you, because you were his best friend.

Well, you and that other guy, for some reason.

"(Name)-san, you're going to snap that broom in half!" your co-worker called out.

Loosening your hold, you inspected the wood, glad to see that it was still intact. It was still three minutes past four, you realize, just a few minutes before dusk.

Sighing, you turned to your co-worker with an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Otoha, just got something on my mind."

Izuku did tell Bakugouu his secret in a roundabout way, the blond would at least catch on to that, being a smart asshole. You just couldn’t wrap your head at the idea of having to entrust him Izuku’s big secret.

The younger girl tilts her head to the side, in thought, as she stares at you. "Are you sure? You seem to be out of it since this morning."

"Yeah, I am. Promise."

Right after revealing his secret, Izuku had planned to have you and the famed Symbol of Peace meet – to assure both parties. But you declined, knowing how busy hero work was.

(Also, to be in his presence would be something. You couldn’t deal with that. Izuku going a mile about how amazing he was made up for it.)

However, with the newfound information given to you, it was almost too much to bear. It was amazing to hear how Izuku was adjusting to his new life, working his hardest, granted that he earned it all. Guilt gnawed your insides, realizing that you were doing him a disservice at the same time, as you had your own secret you weren't telling your best friend.

Exhaling through your nose, you walked around back, to return the cleaning supplies, missing the group of people entering the cafe, hearing only the cheery greetings from Otoha and your other co-workers.

05:51 pm.

The café was in full bloom, packed with students from various schools filling all the seats. You’d spot some of your regular customers, most don’t stay long whilst stop just drop by for a coffee fix before they’re off.

From the far corner, a small group of students you could only guess were from UA, judging from their uniform, were making quite a ruckus.

Thankfully, there was enough staff that day.

Still, working was taxing!

Off to handle drinks, you kept the newbies by your side, promptly teaching them how to mix orders, which cups to use for which drinks, the amount of syrup, etcetera before they finished up for you and you were left to prepare another order. Like clockwork, they’d be back by your side for another order, and the process would start all over again.

Seeing as how well they were doing, you decided to leave them to make their own drinks as you worked on your own. Coming up to serve at the bar, readying your smile, your expression froze as you were met with the last person you wanted to see.

"The fuck-"

Not letting him finish, you forced the smile on back before practically shoving the drink into his hands, uncaring that it almost spilled over.

“Oi-“

"Enjoy your drinks, sir!"

Otoha, your young, sweet, co-worker, saw the whole thing, flinched at your gesture, warily watching you turn your back to help fix other orders without another bat towards the blond who just stared. Discreetly walking over, to fix her own order, she whispers, "(Name)-san, do you know him-"

"No."

"Are you sure-"

"Yes."

"But-"

"Otoha," turning to her with a pained smile, you reply. "I've never seen him before in my life. Okay?"

Feeling a shiver run down her spine, the younger girl slowly, nervously nodded. "O-Okay..."

…

“Bakugou my man, are you alright?”

“…”

“That girl looked really pissed at you, do you know her?”

"..."

“Is she an ex-girlfriend? Is that why she was so angry?”

"..."

“Yeah! And you’ve been wanting to head to this café for a while now.”

"..."

“I must admit, she’s kinda cute- “

“I will end you, dunce face.”

09:08 pm

Ever since she applied, you had taken Otoha under your wing and she all but admired you after your first meeting. You both lived in the same area, so you’d take it upon yourself to walk her home, not trusting a young teen like her to walk alone, especially when evil abounded. Also, she was quirkless.

That night, you were walking along the quiet streets, hands in your pockets as Otoha hummed under her breath. You stopped, ears picking up on footsteps – two, no three people were trailing after you. Gently taking the girl by the arm, you led her to another route, to a busier area, hoping to lose them.

Otoha was too gung-ho about her surroundings to understand your predicament, which was probably for the best. Still, you could feel them behind you.

Exiting the busy lane, the two of you crossed the street, turned a corner, into an empty square. Just as you walked in, so did they – three guys in godawful flashy clothes.

Scared, the younger girl hid behind you and you took a step forward, shielding her from their lecherous gaze.

“Can we help you?”

One of them laughed, some pansy in ridiculous SUPRA outfit waltzed towards you.

“Oh no, no, no, can we help you, young misses?”

You had to roll your eyes at that.

“Well, let’s see, it’s late at night,” he drawled, flashing gold in his teeth “two girls are out walking out,” his two companions chuckled “dangerous is it not?”

Your expression remained, betraying nothing. The pansy decided to talk some more, probably on some shit about chivalry.

“And well, we gentlemen thought it would be just right to walk you girls home!” And there it was. “It’s dangerous for little girls to be out so late.”

And he was right.

“Otoha,” you whispered, as he continued to babble. “take this alleyway,” to gesture with a quick tilt of your head, something the guys didn’t notice. “go straight then turn to your first left, you’ll be safe then.”

“E-Eh? How about you?”

Smiling, you met her gaze. “I’ll be fine.”

“…So, little girls, what’s it gonna be?”

Crossing your arms, you sighed. “Well, you guys do have a point…”

They smile amongst themselves, rather smugly.

“But” taking Otoha’s hand, you tugged her towards the alleyway, pushing her with all you have onto her shoulders. “I don’t trust fuckers who look like they belong to the world’s worst dance troupe that easily!”

The younger girl took this as her cue, albeit slightly confused, but fuelled by panic to run for it.

Loosening your bag, you allow it fall off your shoulders, before it hit the ground, and just as his goons were about to touch a hide of Otoha’s hair, you were before him, eyes ablaze with a ferocious, eerily calm expression on your face, before kicking him away from the young girl.

The force of the kick sends him rolling on the dirt before he’s out cold. One down, exhaling and you fell into a stance, eyes yellow like the moon above you.

Bracing yourself for the next assault, your ears picked up something clinking – a weapon? Ah, knuckle braces which circle his entire fists. Ah, his quirk.

Beside him, his other companion put on his glasses, his godawful flashy clothes engulfing him like an armored suit.

Always gotta be ballsy.

The lights flicker above you; you didn’t move from your spot nor did you deter from their sneers.

“You’ll wish you came willingly like a good girl!” screamed armored flashy guy. Fists hammered against each other and the two were dashing towards you.

Despite being outnumbered, adrenaline rushed through your veins, reeling with excitement as you messed with them, toying at every chance you got.

Dodging a fist thrown your way, eyes caught on the armored flashy guy you easily swung low, aiming for his legs, playing a dangerous tango against two. Sweeping low, you managed to just barely block the kick thrown your way, using the awkward push back, forcing the weight unto your back before swiftly kicking him back.

Once knocked out, you focused on fists, quick to press your body flat against the ground to dodge a measly kick, before lifting your body ever so slightly to deliver a kick to the back of his head, slamming painfully to the ground. Two down.

The light above burst, glass flying everywhere as the armored flashy guy smugly laughed to himself. “Now look what you did, little girl. It’s night out~ A dangerous time for little girls like you~” putting on his shades, which were actually night vision goggles, he walked towards the unsuspecting girl. “And I have to take good care of good girls like you~”

Without turning, you grabbed the hand that reached for your head.

“Eh?”

You could hear the thump of his heart, the hitch of his breath, his muscles moving – it was satisfying to know how much he underestimated you.

“What was it you said again,” came your voice, smooth and calm. “you’d take care of a little girl like me?”

Clenching your hand in his, you heard a crack, he screamed in pain, falling to his knees with one hand in the air.

Head turning, he flinched at the sight of you – eyes once were (e/c) gleamed a dangerous yellow, maybe not like the moon, but of a creature of the moon, a dangerous smirk playing on your lips.

“You’re right, it is dangerous to be out this late at night.”

Faster than the eye can see, you elbow him in the face, hearing a satisfying crack, before tossing him away from you.

Exhaling, you felt your nerves come to a calm. Yellow eyes took in your surroundings, ensuring that they didn’t have any more accomplices.

Three bodies, down and unconscious. You were good. With the help of your heightened senses, you found that Otoha had just fled to safety and that there was an unwanted presence behind you, smelling like burnt sugar and spicy cinnamon.

“Can I help you,” without looking his way, you turned to grab your bag from the ground “Bakugou Katsuki?”

Having seen the whole thing, he was rendered speechless, voice caught in his throat. “(N-Name)…” was all he managed to say, clearly shocked at the new discovery. "Oi, oi, oi, what the fuck? Y-You…you had a quirk all along?"

Exhaling through your nose, quite angrily, you nodded. "Yes."

Even without looking his way, you could tell his expression had changed – feel his heart thump slowly, hear the hitch in his throat – completely seething that he was lied to, kept in the dark.

You barely flinched when he grabbed you by the shoulder, rather forcingly. "Then why the fuck didn't you-"

"Tell you? Oh please, don't give me that bull that you wanted to know." Pushing him away, you didn't mind the pain in your abdomen, choosing to distance from him. "It was enough knowing that you thought having a quirk made you the king of the world and those who didn't were peasants. In layman's term, it wouldn't change a damn thing."

Carmine eyes remained on you, wide, heated, for once not filled with anger, but of confusion. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing." You sighed, tiredly this time, massaging the bridge of your nose.

"No, tell me."

"What good would it do you?"

"I just want to know."

Scoffing, you shook your head, running a hand through your hair. "Your chances were used up; you have no fucking right now."

And with that, you left.

Despite being quirkless, Izuku managed to make up what he lacked with the help of keen observation that was powered by his fascination with quirks. Thus, began his ‘Hero Analysis’ notebooks, in which he’d list down hero after hero, their amazing feats, quirks, abilities, possibilities, theories – basically, a Wikipedia page. In addition, Izuku was stronger than he looked, especially because he had a heart of gold and a strong sense of justice.

You, on the other hand, could care less about quirks. They were something to behold, true, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re still human just with an added bonus, that’s it.

For the longest time, you withheld the one secret you could never have the heart to tell your best friend – you had a quirk of your own. It wasn't an impressive quirk, but it wasn't a bad one either.

Your quirk was called ‘The Night One’ - having heightened senses, agility, and strength but only at night. Most of your abilities were likened to those of nocturnal animals. When activated, your eyes would turn golden yellow. As the quirk made you active at night, obviously, and making you a bit of an insomniac, its drawback was that it made you restless during morning time.

The Yoruichi family came from a long line of martial artists, all of which mastered every martial art known to man. Before you were 10, you'd mastered it all.

Your family was more of an anti-hero, which is why they chose to lay low and pretend they were normal quirkless folks. It was easier to hide in plain sight, after all. The family had a reputation in the underground business, especially for stealth and espionage work.

Eraserhead was a family friend, he was basically your uncle growing up. He was also your idol.

Your quirk first appeared when you got your first period, which was normal for a female in your family. Not only was it terrifying experience, but you didn’t really care much for it, especially since you just wanted to live a normal life free from the expectations of society and the weight of it.

The thought of heroes and quirks made you skeptic, to say the least. And it was thanks to a certain blond.

However, your parents were more than understanding with your views – however jaded they were, assuring you that it wasn’t all bad.

“But since you’re doing this for Izuku’s sake, I don’t see why not.” Your father had said, patting your head gently.

“He’s my best friend,” 7-year old you were quick to say, cheeks puffing.

“Yes, yes, we know. We all know who you’re really setting your eyes for.” Your grandfather said teasingly, causing your cheeks to burn, sticking your tongue out to him.

Laughter left your parents’ lips, your grandfather included. Gently, your mother took you in her arms, smiling kindly at you. “But, (Name), what you’re doing is quite noble. You may not like what I’m about to say, but what you’re doing is a mark of a hero – putting others before yourself.”

“Still, we’re going to work you to the bone in the Yoruichi fashion!”

Both your parents turned sullenly to your grandfather, clearly displeased.

“Father, please.”

“You ruined the moment, old man.”

So, when did everything change?

Was it the time Izuku and you were paired more often during class? Katsuki had plenty of friends anyway. He didn’t seem to mind, stating that it was better than being exposed to quirkless germs.

Was it when Izuku and you would still tagalong to play? In the end, Katsuki would leave you in the middle of a game with his new friends.

Or was it the time Katsuki fell off that log?

You could remember it, clear as day, you and bunch of other kids tagged along to play in the forest, Katsuki leading the charge as always, you and Izuku in the last. The lot of you found yourselves with a log that connected the two cliffs together, but Katsuki just walked on, the rest followed. Halfway through, he slipped on the mossy part of the log before falling into the water.

“KATSUKI!/KACCHAN!” both you and Izuku screamed in unison, scurrying down to help him.

While the rest of your friends called out, watching, the two of you were waddling knee-deep into the water towards your best friend.

“Kacchan,” Izuku’s small voice called. “are you okay? Can you stand?”

Yes, you remember it well. The look in his eyes when Izuku offered his hand, offered him refuge and help. You were next to Izuku, unsure of the tense situation at that single moment.

And what did Katsuki do?

He slapped Izuku’s hand away, throwing away everything you three had in the process.

That’s when everything changed.

Friday, you were working the bar, lazily keeping the counter clean, when the door opened.

“Welcome!” you cried, smile in place, it widened when you were met with green curly locks. “Izuku!”

“Hi, (Nickname)! Uwah, so this is where you work, it’s rather cozy-looking!”

Smiling cheekily, you pressed your palms against the counter, watching as he approached. “Well, it is a café.” Noticing he wasn’t alone, you smiled at the company. “And who are these lovely people?”

“A-Ah, how rude of me! Everyone,” he turned to the small group, who had been watching your interaction quietly. “this is my childhood friend, (Name) Yoruichi.”

“Yo!” you gave a two-fingered salute in greeting.

“(Nickname), these are my friends-“

“I kinda know who they are, Izuku.” You teased, cutting him off, making you laugh. “But, by all means.”

“Greetings, I’m Tenya Iida!” the tall bespectacled boy says, waving his hands robotically, almost dangerously.

“Shouto Todoroki.” The dual-haired boy nods at you, eyeing the menu behind you in interest. Idly, you handed him a menu so he can have a clearer view, he mutters his thanks.

“And I’m Ochako Uraraka!” the lone brunette female says, cheerily, grabbing both your hands in hers. “It’s so nice to finally meet you! Deku-kun talks about you a lot!”

“The pleasure is all mine, then. Thanks so much for taking care of my clumsy little broccoli.”

“(N-Nickname)!”

“Any case!” Iida chops a hand in, catching everyone’s attention. “We shouldn’t dilly dally! We must place our orders!”

“No worries,” you wave at him. “it’s pretty quiet this time of the week. But,” fixing your posture, standing a little straight, you put on your work persona. “anything you’d like to order?”

“I’ll have the chai latte,” says Todoroki, having made his decision. “cold, please.”

“Okay,” nodding, you turn to Iida, who orders a hot mocha, Uraraka orders a strawberry Frappuccino with cheesecake on the side. Uraraka turned to Iida and Todoroki, looking checking for available seats whilst waiting for Izuku – you liked them, they were a good bunch.

Turning to the green-haired boy, he was left eyeing the menu rather clinically, taking his time. Poking his forehead, he blinks at you. “Hot Matcha?”

He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “You know me too well, (Nickname).”

“That I do, Izuku, that I do.”

One thing that never changed though, the one thing you hoped never would, was the friendship you have with Izuku.

masterlist • three

[yoongi-sugaglider]

Artemis Rising

The story of a Goddess and a Demi God, star crossed lovers whose story was lost to the complexity of history. The truth is they were wronged. All because of the jealousy of a brother. Can they escape their fate in a modern age? Can reincarnation allow her to finally reunite with the ones who loved her?

genre: angst ; reincarnation/Greek mythology au ; werewolf au

pairing: Yoongi x reader; ot7 x reader ; ft: Ateez

warnings: abusive relationship, physical abuse towards reader, vengeful ot7, inaccurate description of Ateez as aggressive (they’re sweet babies I swear! But Eomma needed a bad guy), fighting, character death, of age drinking (more to be added mayhaps?)

Word count: 3197

Chapter 2

Above the moon waned, it’s glorious light barely casting a glow upon the stilled seas that would normally grace sweet Gaia’s shores.

“My child, why do you weep so?” Leto stepped from the shadows. The soothing calm that normally encased the Titan Goddess of motherhood was gone, replaced with a sense of distress and panic at the sight of her precious daughter weeping upon a piece of sea swept driftwood.

“Mother…” Artemis sobbed, reaching out to the tall figure and crumpling into her lap.

“Artemis, my darling. Speak to me. Who is the cause of your tears?”

It took the moon goddess a while to answer, so wrapped up in her grief that her entire body trembled and the moon shed a little more of its light, now barely a sliver in the sky.

“It’s O...Orion. He’s...he’s gone mother. By mine own hand…”

Leto gasped, pulling away to stare down at Artemis with wide eyes.

“The young hunter boy? The one who’d caught your eye and joined you in your hunts?”

“The very same. Oh mother what do I do?”

The night wore on as the goddess of the moon wept, seeking comfort in the arms of Leto who could only stroke her back in comfort and attempt to soothe her broken soul.

The sun began to rise, it’s golden glow muted and pale as Apollo approached.

“Son. Is this your doing?” A hint of anger leached into the benevolent Titan’s voice as she gave her only son a heated stare.

“Mother...I…”

“You knew it was him!” Artemis stood, short sword in hand as she rounded on her once beloved brother. “You knew and you challenged me anyway! All of this born of your stupid misplaced jealousy!” 

“Sister, please I just…”

Artemis cut him off, lunging forward with all of the intent of driving the golden steel of the Gods through his chest.

“Artemis no!!”

***

Panic gripped me as I lunged forward, arm outstretched as if attempting to reach...something.

I shook my head in bewilderment, hoping the motion would wake me up enough to remember the dream that had left me with tear stained cheeks and a pillow soaked in my own grief. As with every other dream of mine though, it’d faded too fast. A wisp of a thing fading away in the morning light.

I sighed, finally allowing my hand to fall to the coolness of the bedsheet. A glance beside me let me know that once again Hongjoong had woken long before me...that or he’d never come to bed as the sheets beside me were as cold and empty as always.

I sighed again, letting the loneliness of the early morning caress my cheeks and dry the tears left over from the formless nightmare. Eventually I was able to get myself motivated enough to get up and start the day. It was honestly a perk working from home that I didn’t have a specific time to get up. But I preferred working on my writing early on in the day so that I could have the evenings to myself to relax and do whatever needed to be done before Hongjoong got home.

After a quick shower and change of clothes I made my way down to the kitchen in the hopes of having a quiet breakfast.

"Miss…"

I couldn't help the squeak that left my lips when Yeosang's strong, deep voice echoed through the vast expanse of the kitchen. Eyes wide I stared at his broad back, confused as to how he even knew I was standing in the doorway. Standing at the stove was Seonghwa, cooking away in a world of his own.

At Yeosang’s acknowledgement of my presence Seonghwa glanced over to me. I couldn’t help but wither under his intense stare. A frown formed between his eyebrows as he took in the bruise on my left cheek that I’d failed to cover up with several layers of concealer along with the way I shrunk away from their combined stares.

Neither of them commented though and it came as a relief that they turned back to their respective tasks after a moment more of silence. 

“There’s omelet rolls on the way. Meat’s cooked and on the table.” Seonghwa’s words weren’t spoken to anyone but I knew they were aimed at me. Whispering out a quick thank you I scurried over to the dining table, head down and eyes pinned to the small pile of bacon sitting before me.

The rest of the meal was delivered quickly, the imposing men’s silence deafening as usual as they seemed to tiptoe around me. I’d come to expect and accept it at this point as it seemed that each of my bodyguards was absolutely terrified of reaching out to me in any way.

I could have used the comfort. Used some sort of touch or a soothing word to get through the monotony of my days. But I suppose that’s what Yoongi was for…

So I turned to him. Once dishes were done and put away I began texting him, checking in on his day, asking the usual best friend questions and hanging on to every time the phone would vibrate while I worked in the relative quiet of my little writing corner. Before I’d even realized it, the day had moved on without me.

I glanced up out of the window, startling myself at the abrupt darkness that had swallowed the day and cast the world into the deepest recesses of twilight. Somehow I’d missed lunch and dinner, and the hunger gnawed at my stomach in a way that made me nervous just thinking about it.

Hongjoong would be home by now, and the mere thought of facing him after last night set me on edge.

“Have you been holed up in here all day?”

I couldn’t help the squeak of fear that escaped me. Whipping around I stared wide eyed at Hongjoong who’d somehow walked into my office without me hearing and was leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Hongjoong...I...I didn’t hear you come in…” I pressed my hand against my chest, struggling to still the rapid beating of my heart.

He smirked, dropping his arms and pushing away from the doorframe. His movements were so smooth, so calculated. My gaze swept his figure as he stalked towards me like a predator, noting he was still in his business suit and tie though the latter was untied and hung loosely from his neck.

“Good. You weren’t supposed to.”

I shrunk down in my chair as he towered over me, shadows cast on his face making it hard to gauge his mood or what he could possibly want with me.

“Your meeting. It went well I hope?” No matter how hard I tried I couldn’t shove the slight quiver in my voice down and I hated myself for it. Hated that his presence alone struck such a level of fear in me even without him having done anything.

“Hmm…” His noncommittal hum echoed through the room and some part of me screamed in disgust at the way my body sagged with relief when he turned away from me and moved back to the bedroom door.

“I met with a few social acquaintances of mine.” Ever so slowly he closed the door, as if shutting the world out of our conversation. It wasn’t really necessary, no one here would ever dare walk in on him without announcing themselves first. 

“Oh?” My tongue darted out to wet my lips and his eyes followed the motion almost hungrily. I couldn’t help but suppress the shudder of fear that raced through my bloodstream.

 “You’re...acquaintances with that popular boy band...yes?” I couldn’t quite tell what he was after. His tone of voice was flat, almost as if he was already bored with the conversation even though he’d been the one to initiate it.

I turned in my computer chair to face him fully, watching as he leaned heavily on the closed door and folded his arms over his chest.

“I’m friends with them, yeah. Is...there…”

The sly grin that flashed across his face set every alarm bell ringing in my head. He was planning something, and the implications could honestly mean anything but none of it was anything good.

“I want you to invite them to the party tomorrow night. Make sure they come, no exceptions.” 

I blinked, head tilting to the side as I followed his every move. He pushed away from the wall, stalking over to me slowly. It took everything in me to sit still instead of retreating back into myself as the predatory threat loomed over me in the form of Hongjoong’s imposing figure.

I stared at his chest for a moment as he pressed his hands on either side of me on the desk, effectively caging me in. When I’d finally found the nerve to look him in the eyes the fire there had me instantly shrinking in on myself.

“I want them there, no exceptions. No excuses.”

“Y...yes, okay Hongjoong…”

He continued staring at me for a long moment, face morphing into various emotions from distaste to mistrust and finally settling on neutral disgust. Grabbing my chin he pulled me close, sealing his lips against mine in some form of possessive dominance that had me melting in to him despite every cell of my being wanting to pull away and protect myself from him.

“That’s my good girl.” Patting my cheek he turned and marched off, leaving me confused and irritated with myself for the display of weakness.

***

“Hyung, remind me why we agreed to this again?” Jungkook coughed, slim fingers curled into the collar of his tie as he struggled to breathe around it.

“Because y/n asked us to, that’s why.” Seokjin growled, grabbing the young boy by the arm and twirling him just enough to reposition the tie accordingly and allow Jungkook to breathe.

“Well, I mean besides that…'' Jungkook blushed, eyes darting through the entryway and into the rest of the massive mansion. It’d taken everything Yoongi had to convince them to take their one day off to support their best friend. They’d been all for it up until he mentioned it’d been to support Kim Hongjoong’s ‘important announcement’. At that point they’d just about all gotten up and walked away until he mentioned she’d begged him specifically.

“Well here’s to hoping the food is at least good…” Taehyung muttered as he shoved his way into the entry hall and tossed his overly long coat at the poor overloaded coat rack in the corner.

“I swear if that fucker tries to make trouble for her tonight I’m going to tear his throat out.” Hoseok growled, eyes narrowed to slits as he’d just spotted the man in question.

Hongjoong strutted across the hall, disappearing through the large glass doors that led out to the lanai and the massive back yard where the main portion of the party was held.

“We’ll do no such thing.” Namjoon said. He placed a calming hand on Hoseok’s shoulder, giving the younger men each a piercing look that set them back to their relaxed state of alert once more.

“At least not until she’s ready to let him go and come home with us.” Yoongi huffed. He nodded for the lanai. “Let’s get out there, our girl needs us.”

The group complied, putting on their idol faces and smiling and waving to the small crowd that gathered as soon as they stepped out into the fairy light lit backyard. Finding her wasn’t hard. She flitted to and fro, handling one disaster or another while keeping a small smile plastered on her face as she played hostess to the hundreds of guests that’d been invited to witness whatever it was Hongjoong had planned to announce.

There even appeared to be several high ranking members of the press hanging around. Most hovering over the buffet style food tables while others interviewed various members of the staff along with guests in the hopes of getting an exclusive on what this party could be about.

“Vultures…” Yoongi muttered as he nursed the cup of punch he’d been handed by some faceless waiter.

“Aye, but they have their use. Keeps the eye on Hongjoong and off of me.” The soft voice that whispered beside him had him instantly grinning.

“Well hi there gorgeous.” He turned to her, eyes darting over her form to take in the sultry green dress she’d donned. The silken material hugged her in places that had him salivating, luckily though he was able to school his features quickly before she or anyone else could notice the hungry look he’d barely been able to control.

“Oh hush Yoongs. You know this is my least favorite dress.” She blushed, turning away from him to subtly fan the heat rising in her cheeks.

“Yeah, that may be. But anyone would be a fool not to appreciate what you’re flaunting.” He snickered half heartedly, hoping she’d take it as a joke and not as the truth he so desperately wanted to scream at her no matter who happened to be watching.

“Thank you for coming, Yoongi…” She whispered, eyes darting over to the grand stage Hongjoong had insisted be set up in the center of the garden.

“Anything for you little moon.” His words went unheard though as Hongjoong chose that moment to clear his throat into the microphone and interrupt any conversation that may have been taking place.

“Ladies and Gentlemen! I’d like to have your attention for a moment if you don’t mind!”

“As you are all aware, my family has been a leading edge to our beautiful city for many a generation. My father swore to uphold the law to the best of his ability, and when he passed several years ago it left a void in so many people’s hearts. His father before him served as well, standing with his fellow citizens to fight against oppression and the government corruption that’d been keeping us all down up until his final breath.” Hongjoong bowed his head as the crowd applauded, cheering his forefathers and shouting various praises as to Hongjoong’s own accomplishments.

He held up a hand, shooting them all a winning smile as they quieted down to allow him to continue.

“Pompous prick…” Yoongi muttered, taking a sip of his punch to hide the movement of his lips.

“Tonight we are gathered here, not only in celebration, but in unity. To come together not as reporters and millionaires and chefs and idols. But as fellow citizens brought together by a single cause, to make this city great again! To make our neighborhoods safer and our children safer. To bring us all together under one unified cause so that we can make Seoul great again!”

The crowd roared to life, cheering Hongjoong’s name and surging forward to crowd the stage as he smiled upon them on like so many obedient children.

“And so!” He spoke over the cheers, somehow making himself heard despite the noise. “I’m officially announcing myself as being in the running for mayor. Rejoice! For change is here!”

The woman beside Yoongi squeaked, her face deathly pale as she seemed to be on the verge of either throwing up or passing out. Yoongi knew that look, knew the impending panic attack that came along with it and began ushering her towards the relative safety of the house.

“Yoongi I…”

“Hush little moon, let’s get you inside and away from this crowd.” His fingers curled around her arm and she seemed to want to lean into the touch, but just before they could reach the door she stopped and turned to him with a wide eyed stare.

“I...I was supposed to make sure we had more sauce for the shrimp cocktail… I...I can’t go in just yet…”

A throat cleared behind them and Yoongi instantly dropped his hand, turning to address the newly announced politician.

“Hongjoong..” Yoongi nodded, barely a jerk of his head in confirmation of the man’s presence really but it was just visible enough as to not seem disrespectful of the man’s status.

“Ah! The famous Min Yoongi!” The politician grinned, pulling his woman close and gripping her hip tightly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard many good things about you from my precious fiancé.”

Yoongi grunted in response. His fingers curled into fists at his sides, claws growing and sharpening in response to his growing rage. At the first pinch of pain as they broke the skin he released his fists, forcing his fingers to hang limply at his side.

“Y/n, have you dealt with the catering issues my dear?”Hongjoong turned to her, eyes piercing into her own. It was him dismissing her from the conversation.

She glanced over to Yoongi, eyes filled with apology as she bowed low to the both of them, nearly bent in half as she excused herself from the conversation.

Hongjoong watched her leave, his stare predatory in nature as he watched her disappear into the crowd.

“I heard you’re running for mayor.” Yoongi spoke quietly, knowing the puffed up man would be able to hear him over the noise of the crowd of partygoers. 

“Ah, you have?” Hongjoong turned back to Yoongi, that predatory glare still filling his eyes with an insanity that only those born to create chaos and destroy others could possess. “It’s a lofty goal I know. But I feel the need to change things comes with power. And this world could really use a little bit of change don’t you think?”

Yoongi knew he didn’t mean positive change of any kind. This man was far too prone to violence to mean anything more than chaos and destruction. 

“How does y/n feel about all this?” Yoongi casually took a sip of his drink. He angled his body away from Hongjoong slightly, eyes darting around the garden. He spotted Jimin and Namjoon heading towards y/n and a small part of him relaxed greatly.

“Y/n? Now why would her opinion matter in the slightest?”

At that Yoongi returned the entirety of his attention to the mad man. “Why...she’s going to be your wife soon. Doesn’t the idea that she’s being thrust into the limelight bother her?”

Hongjoong shrugged, lifting his glass to take a sip of champagne. “Honestly no. She knew my goals before she said yes. If she has anything negative to say about it she’ll tell me and we can address it accordingly.”

The pure menace in his tone let Yoongi know the discussion wouldn’t be very long and would almost surely end up with her gaining a new bruise or two, if not a trip to the hospital.

“For her sake Hongjoong...I really do hope you have her best interests at heart…” Yoongi turned to the man, his drink long forgotten as he fixed the man with a fierce glare.

“Because if anything else happens to her and I find you...you’ll wish you’d stayed in whatever gutter hole you crawled out of to get here.”

[yilingburialmounds]

Fics Featuring Some Yiling Laozu (either literally or just The Vibes)

Calling Heaven by mondengel

Lan Wangji had not wanted to come at all.

Lan Wangji-centric and short but extremely chilling. Post the First Seige of the Burial Mounds, and it has some great horror vibes.

The waters and the wild by SecretStorm

Lan Wangji has grown up hearing stories of the feared Yiling Laozu, who kidnaps young boys--including his childhood best friend, Wei Ying.

When a Lan child is taken, Lan Wangji travels to the Yiling Laozu's lair in the Burial Mounds.

He does not find what he expected.

Another Lan Wangji-centric piece, featuring Wei Wuxian as a figure similar to the Pied Piper, with a great deal of the fic featuring Lan Wangji terrified for the safety of those in the Burial Mounds. The vibes are this fic are phenomenal, do check them out!

Scrimshaw by Verse

"Is it true that you were sent to Burial Mound? How did you make it out alive?"

"I didn't." he replied, and never said which question he was answering.

This fic delivers some absolute chills! It short and sweet and to the point, and it builds up to the revelations wonderfully. (Honestly, Verse has some very good MDZS horror fics! Check them out!)

Replicatum by ghostdove (sarensen)

They say there's nothing alive in the Burial Mounds. That isn’t entirely true.

(Canon divergence Burial Mounds AU: Wei Wuxian gets thrown into the Burial Mounds after losing his golden core. The Wei Wuxian who leaves the forest is not the same.)

Okay, this fic doesn’t really feature any Yiling Laozu characters or any Yiling Laozu vibes, but it features Wei Wuxian’s stay in the Burial Mounds! It has a great surrealist horror vibe - and some plant horror and body horror - and the first time I read it, it took my breath away. The gnawing hopelessness that sets in alongside all the fantastical horror bits is just to die for! (Pun not in intended but greatly appreciated.) Do check it out!

help is on the way by Vamillepudding

“There,” the Yiling Patriarch says. “Now all that’s missing is a throne. Would you like one?”

“I have no interest in ruling,” Lan Wangji says.

“What is it that holds Hanguang-jun’s interest, then?”

Lan Wangji presses his lips together, unwilling to meet the Yiling Patriarch’s gaze.

(The Yiling Patriarch wins. Lan Wangji is left behind on the fields of the dead and appoints himself a task.)

Real surrealist, fairy tale vibe here, folks! Once again, Lan Wangji-centric, but Wei Wuxian has all the features you’d expect from the Yiling Laozu! Including his reluctant but growing feelings for Lan Wangji, of course! Do check it out, it’s phenomenal!

love, in fire and blood by cicer

"You want Wen Ruohan dead," the Patriarch continued idly. "You want his corpse puppets eliminated. You want his halls burned to the ground and his soldiers disemboweled and begging for mercy. Have I about covered it?"

He gave another knife-edged smile.

"But what will you give me in return?"

"We would be willing to offer quite a bit in return for Wen Ruohan's defeat," Lan Xichen admitted. "But I'm afraid we don't know what an immortal such as yourself desires. Please advise us."

The Patriarch waved at hand at the front of the tent. "I want Second Young Master Lan."

(In which the Sunshot Campaign ends through an arranged marriage to the Yiling Patriarch, and Lan Wangji suffers the mortifying ordeal of falling in love with his own husband.)

This fic is, of course, a classic! Cicer is an amazing writer and they have outdone themself yet again with this fic! War prize!Lan Wangji fics are always a delight, and the beginning parts of this fic have such tension and great Vibes(TM), and the latter parts are so soft and yet still so strong. Slow burn at its finest! 

in the face of cruel fate by sunlaozu

> Lan Wangji was slowly starting to understand now.

> The longer he stood in Wei Wuxian's position, the more he learned of the wicked ways of the world, the more he learned that it was simply too difficult to separate the black and white, and why Wei Wuxian had to resort to the demonic arts.

> Because the path of light will not be enough to go against the world.

After Wei Wuxian's death, Lan Wangji becomes the new Yiling Patriarch.

Okay, this isn’t Yiling Laozu!Wei Wuxian, it’s Yiling Laozu!Lan Wangji, and it’s still wonderful! The summary explains the fic pretty well. It’s only one chapter and technically a WIP, but honestly I thought it was complete, that’s how well-made the first chapter is. Do check it out! 

Buried in the Sky, Hallowed by the Depths by themunchking

If you listen, the mountains of Gusu sing in the evening, as the sun is going down.

That’s what they say in Caiyi Town, where the clear and cold mountain streams flow into the lake. The streams are deep, the locals know. They say they carry the melody down from up high. From Cloud Recesses.

There are reasons it is forbidden to enter the Cloud Recesses after dark.

Okay, this technically doesn’t contain any Yiling Laozu characters, but it has The Vibes strewn all over it! Both Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji’s personalities are so dark and alluring, and they’re so incredibly powerful! Do check it out!

i am the storm by everythingispoetry

Yet another thing Lan Zhan's education failed to teach him which he learns from Wei Ying: sometimes, acts of murder can be a love language.

Another Lan Wangji-centric fic featuring Yiling Laozu!Wei Wuxian. It’s A/B/O this time, but don’t let that put you off - it’s a short fic with phenomenal execution and a whole lot of Wei Wuxian taking care of Lan Wangji. Just remember to read all of the tags before diving it!

Frame of Fearsome Symmetry by donutsweeper

When, in a combination of irony and revenge, Wei Wuxian took Wen Zhuliu's core and crushed it, he hadn't expected the result.

(Canon divergent from episode 15 of the donghua.)

The scene in the donghua where Wei Wuxian ripped out and destroyed Wen Zhuliu’s core always gave me the chills, and this fic plays off of that so wonderfully! It’s twisted and I love it, so do check it out!

And that’s all I’ve got for you, folks! I hope these helped you get a lovely dose of Yiling Laozu!

[creativeashproductions]

Mountains and Lessons // Luke Patterson

Summary: A bucket list item Reggie had had was to experience a white Christmas. He ended up dying before hand and his opportunity brings up. All Luke wants is music and warmth, not stuck on a stupid mountain in cold Colorado. Alex is excited to get out of Californai for once.

Warning: Swearing, death, angst, Christmas themed but not Christmas and fluff

Words: 4.9k

A/N: Breaks my heart that Reggie potentially never got to experience making snow angels, snow people and join a snowball fight. But my theme appears to be angst so there’s that as well.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX PLEASE!

Masterlist

Julie had a structured routine and schedule she liked to follow in her life, not strict but definitely a guideline. Monday to Friday, like ever minor, spent the majority of the time in a classroom. After school, she would return home straight to the kitchen for a quick snack before spreading her homework on the kitchen island. The homework was typically one hour before Julie would head out to the studio for band rehearsal.

Flynn, as the band manager, had declared Friday’s to be band free just so that Julie and Flynn could hang out. Saturday’s consisted of morning band practice, the early afternoon had a songwriting session with Luke. In the late evening after an early supper, the band would head to the gig they had gotten. Sunday’s however were strictly days off from the band no matter what, the boys would go their own ways for the day as well.

Today, for the young teenager was a Friday but Flynn had strep throat confining herself to her house. No visitors and her electronics taken away to get rest. It was incredibly dull, and no one wanted to go against Flynn’s words because she could be scary.

Julie had done her homework, did her chores, revised a new song, started a new book and added more doodles to her shoes. Now she was laying on her bed staring at the ceiling with her headphones in.

“Julie?” Ray spoke from her open bedroom door. The man received no reaction with his daughter’s head in the clouds, “Julie? I need to talk to you.”

Ray walked over to his daughter to tug the bud out of her left ear bringing the girl back down to land. The teenager sat up to look at her father.

“What’s up?”

“Can you meet me in the living room?” Ray’s blue eyes crinkled at the corners from the many laughs he had shared in his lifetime. While she was confused, Julie proceeded to follow her father down to the lively decorated room.

Carlos had already been corralled to the living room couch listlessly staring in the distance with no iPad on his person. The lack of electronic was a red flag to the musician, the girl settled on the couch while Ray shifted things on the coffee table.

Once settled on the wood coffee table, he focused on his children, “We’ve always discussed big decisions in our family. We had an open discussion of retracting our initial decision to move.”

“Is this about my bed? I can clean it! I will-“

“Carlos! This isn’t about under your bed, we do need to have a conversation about that young man.” Carlos pointed one finger in Carlos’ direction before addressing the situation, “This year is the first year we’ll celebrate Christmas without…”

“Mom.” Both Carlos and Julie murmured slumping down at the stifling reminder of the loss the Molina’s had suffered.

Julie clenched her jaw, forcing the grief down as her hand crept over to hold Carlos’ hand in comfort. The glittering of his eyes and the gnawing on his lower lip dead giveaways he was losing the battle with sadness. Ever since Julie was a kid, she had always been there for Carlos, not saying they didn’t fight. Evidence as Carlos’ requesting a normal sister.

“It’s going to be different. I got offered an excellent contract by a ski resort, we could potentially renovate the bathroom.” Ray’s eyebrows came together as the touchy topic came about.

After Rose died, it had dented the Molina’s financials with the loss of income, the money didn’t matter compared to the person. When the sun shone through the dark clouds, it had affected the way the Molina’s had to live. Of course, the Molina’s had it better than most with a house over their head and food on the table.

Ray just wanted the best for his kids.

“We could build snowmen?” Carlos gleefully exclaimed beaming at the sheer image of seeing snow in person.

“That’s the thing. The ski resort hosts a handful of parties by companies and clients. The contract is photographing the events for their website. All expenses paid and it could open doors to more clients.”

The idea tore Julie in half. Not decorating the tree with her family, Tia Victoria’s tamales that changed every year and carolling with her friends. A lot of traditions wouldn’t happen that had been constant for the Molina family. New Year Eve’s movie night with Flynn wouldn’t happen; the two girls exchanged wrapped Christmas pyjamas to wear.

On the other hand, the new scenery would distract Julie from the broken Christmas holiday without Mom. Julie always wanted to experience a white Christmas for the snow angels, the snowmen, spontaneous snowball fights, sledding and hot cocoa to warm up after the cold.

In the end, it was the glee on Carlos’ face and the excitement on her father’s that had her caving.

“Let’s do it.” Julie faked her enthusiasm before excusing herself from the conversation of Carlos’ disgusting bedroom.

The young teenager shuffled her way to the studio yearning for the piano to cheer herself up. Typically discovering the guys playing music alone infuriated the girl but at the moment she just wanted to mourn the change of Christmas.

“Hey!” Reggie spoke with a bright grin at the moping teenager. At the lack of reaction, his grin faltered, “Julie?”

Luke’s guitar solo came to an abrupt halt seeing the forlorn girl slumping on the piano bench staring listlessly at the ivory keys. The melancholy aura gave the boys a sick feeling in their bellies, Luke wondered if her grades weren’t at Ray’s standard. Alex wondered if she had a fight with Flynn and Reggie just wanted to hug her.

Reggie did so. His arms wrapped around her shoulders in comfort, and he thanked whatever deity there was at finally being able to hug her. After Caleb and the weird situation, the OG Sunset Curve turned into glow sticks touch had become prevalent. Reggie had a secret handshake with Julie. When Alex got overwhelmed over his anxiety escalated, he would braid Julie’s hair and play with her fingers; when this happened, she never physically touched him unless he asked. Luke was a different story.

Luke’s love language is obviously physical affection, he would hug the living girl, gives high fives, grasp her hand to squeeze it. He’d also sit as close as possible for their legs to touch. It was a way for Luke to feel real.

“What’s wrong, Jay?” Alex asked, approaching the piano to heave himself on top of it. His concerned blue eyes on the teenager.

“This is the first Christmas without my Mom.” She revealed, the desolation drawing Luke to be closer to his friends.

If the boys’ had beating hearts, they would have stuttered and shattered, seeing the sorrow overflow in Julie’s eyes. In a short time, they had spent with her since the first night they had come to care about each other immensely.

 “I’m so sorry,” Alex spoke scootching closer to lay his hand on the limp hand resting on the piano top. The smile of thanks warming the drummer inside.

“Dad got this perfect job at a ski resort. It’s good money, and Carlos is excited. I don’t want to spend Christmas somewhere else. I want to be here; I want to go carolling with you guys. I want New Year’s Eve movie night with Flynn, I want to fight Carlos on who gets to put the star on the tree. I want to bake cookie.” Julie broke, “Sure a white Christmas would be cool, but this is home.”

 “It’s not about where you celebrate. It’s about who you celebrate with Jules.” Luke quietly spoke up physically with them but mentally elsewhere.

His mind returned to the night in December that irrevocably altered his relationship with his parents’. He had tainted Christmas for himself and his family when he stormed out never to return. He would give anything to spend a Christmas, a birthday, or even a Mother’s Day with his parents just one more time. A consolation to the guitarist was easing his parents’ pain with Unsaid Emily.

“You’ll get to build snowmen?” Reggie questioned pouting at his lifer friend who giggled at his look of betrayal, “I was going to spend Christmas at my uncle’s place in Washington before we died.”

Reggie’s words didn’t change the sombre atmosphere, but it did flip a switch in Julie’s mind. Julie could create new traditions with her new family as well.

“We’ll get to build snowmen.”

“How? We’ll be here. You’ll be wherever the resort it.” Reggie interjected with a twisted smile at Julie’s words. The young girl rolled her eyes at him, “We can’t crash your family vacation. It’s Christmas.”

“Reg, you wouldn’t be ‘crashing’ the family vacation. You three are part of my family.” Julie’s words had to be the most touching thing the boys had heard in years, both the twenty-five dead and from 1990-1995.

“I’m so excited!” Reggie beamed, “I have to go, thank Ray!”

With that, the ghostly teenager disappeared in a bright ball of light to the house where Ray was most likely accepting the job. While Luke and Reggie didn’t know boundaries, they sure could make things better for their friends.

The giggle came from the girl bundled up in layers tossed a packed ball of snow at the enemy behind the other snow fort. The sharp laugh of her opponents warming you up more than hot cocoa, well the layers were unnecessary. But, what’s winter without the bundled up outer clothing.

“Surrender!” You called out throwing the new ball high with the hope it would land on the other person. It hit the top of the wall instead.

Lucy was just about to return fire with one of her pre-made snow weapons when the resort’s main building front door opened. Backlit by the lights giving a heavenly glow was a woman of average height. Greying hair scooped up in an elegant style, and thick clothing stood Lucy’s mom.

Your heart clenched at the visible sadness on the woman’s face as her eyes found the mountain in the distance. It had been a constant in the last seven years of the year-round residents and the plaque on the property. Lucy’s family had never properly healed from the tragic event, but they also could bear to leave the place either.

Fox & Hare Ski Resort had been in the ownership of the same family for over a hundred years, a place of happiness. A place where Lucy had loved as a massive fan of skiing and wintertime, Lucy was excited for this year the most. It was Lucy’s third year of lessons with a very well respected and highly sought out trainer.

“Bye!” Lucy spoke to the now standing young adult. Her little feet dashing to the main building for supper with her parents.

Your eyes found the parking lot as a car pulled up to one the spaces reserved for staff; his looks matched the temporary photographer. With him was a young boy and a teenage girl about your own age. All bundled up for the cold climate, but you were most surprised at the sudden appearance of three males.

They had to ghosts. If the teleporting wasn’t obvious enough, it was the lack of warm clothes. For God’s sake, one of them didn’t even have sleeves.

“Hm interesting.” You hummed scrutinizing the trio following the other three aimlessly to the building. You pegged them as about your age with a very vintage style in both fashion and hairstyles.

The luggage clicked on each transition to another board on the porch ramp for accessibility a welcome sound. Just another daily occurrence that brought peace to the individual. Unable to hold yourself back, you quickly scooped up three snowballs.

The first hit the taller boy in the back of the head. When his head swivelled, he couldn’t see the person that did it. Shaking it off, he turned back to view the mountain. Sprinting to the vast sea of trees you stopped halfway to chuck the second snowball. It hit the guy in the leather jacket.

You ducked behind the tree when he loudly protested the sudden attack. With a wicked grin, you went to send the third one before you yelped.

“Nu-uh.” The sudden voice spoke clicking his tongue. Slowly turning you saw the last boy staring you down, “You should have left Reggie for last. He’s very loud, he’s a personal alarm.”

Your mouth opened as the other two appeared, “I’ve never had a snowball fight before!”

You took a guess that was Reggie.

“I’m Y/N.” You spoke holding out for hand for the three to shake. They each introduced themselves; your first hit was Alex, the second was Reggie, and the failed hit was Luke.

“What brings you to Colorado?” You asked shoving your hands in your snow pants bouncing on the heels of your feet. The crunch of snow under them unfamiliar to the trio.

“Our band member is staying here for two weeks. Her dad got a photography gig.” Alex spoke, scanning the area, “So, are you a ghost?”

“I’m a tour guide and area expert.” You beamed revealing a big smile to the three guys standing in the powdered snow.

The cheery light in your eyes, easing the ghosts in the unfamiliar landscape, each a juxtaposition to the climate. Nodding towards the rental shop, you guided them into the average-sized building for the necessary winter wear. Seasoned with your background working in the shop, you quickly grabbed items that wouldn’t be noticed for them.

“We don’t nee-“

“Gotta live the experience. I used to work in here, so I’ve taken the liberty to group your gear. Alex, you have light blue and pink. Reggie red and black leaving the dark blue for Luke.”

You wore a seafoam green ski jacket and matching snow pants paired with the trusty black boots. While the boys dressed in the clothing you chose, you collected your things as well. As soon as they finished, they turned to see you had a snowboard lilac to the dark purple-black gradient. On the top of the board in the middle had a moon with the white foam of the ocean. On the lilac background, the deep purple cut the moon in half, the deep purple background had the lilac moon half. The black had a rough outline of a circle similar to the moon on the front with BURTON in the ring.

“I had a different board.” Your smile faltered, remembering the beautiful board your parents had gotten you for your birthday.

“What happened to it?” Luke questioned scanning the room for the board.

“It snapped in half.” You stated practically skipping out the door, “C’mon! I wanna teach you how to kill it on the mountain! Have you ever done this? Skiing or snowboarding?”

“Neither,” Alex spoke glancing around the area as you led them to the Gondola lifts that brought people to the top of the mountain. This one specifically for the beginner levels perfect for the three new friends, “We’re born and bred in California, never got the opportunity to travel outside the state.

“Well, I’ll try my very best to give you a good experience on the mountain..”

Once released from the Gondola, you jogged to the side giggling at the sight of them struggling to walk in the heavy boots. Near the Gondola, the area was the shift ski patrol building with the heated bathroom. The building along with the bench had been a new addition a few years ago. It never failed to halt you to stare at it for a handful of seconds.

“Okay, so we’ll start with the basics.” You announced clapping your hands together in the thick mittens.

Alex picked up the activity naturally with confidence and calmness he couldn’t even remember last feeling. He had to focus on his movements and directions, giving him a welcomed break from his overthinking. Luke had started his angry pout with his accurate portrayal of newborn Bambi.

“I’m just going to take a break,” Luke muttered wheezing from his sudden position staring at the sky. Taking pity on the Californian boy, you pressed the release function on his boots.

“I think Reggie’s at the ski patrol building.” You called to the boy with the fringe sulking in the direction of Reggie. It left you with Alex learning new hacks to the board.

“This is fun!” Alex shouted, raising his mouth to the sky, “Ooh Willie would love yelling up here.”

“Ghost?” You asked, receiving a nod in response, taking the time to sit down with your knees raised—the board on the edge still connected to your boots.

Alex flailed as he copied you taking in the sunset, backlight the buildings slowly turning their nights one at a time. The large main building would have a fire for everyone with supplied hot cocoa. Tomorrow the mountain would be less populated with the first of many Christmas parties. The crisp air welcomed high above the buildings you felt peace.

“Is it safe to get off the mountain at night?” Alex asked, hugging his knees to his chest, tilting his head to look at your profile.

The smile was small but warm on the girls face as Alex took in her features that had a particular contentness that is hard to attain. Alex could see in Luke when he finished a song he would deem his best work before the next song. Or Reggie at a beach bonfire with the ocean crashing faintly behind Luke’s acoustic guitar.

“Yeah.” You replied smoothly removing your board from your boots to carry it to where Luke and Reggie were. You backtracked to ensure Alex released his boots; his fast learning evident when he stood with a proud smile.

Alex and you both surveyed the area for any lost items or gear you may have forgotten about, coming up clear you continued walking. Reggie and Luke were laughing with their skiis neatly put aside. Hands locked in a fierce game of rock, paper, scissors they looked childlike and untouched by life’s hard teachings.

“I’ll put my board in the Gondola. Be right back!” You called over your shoulder. Alex looked over his shoulder to reply, but the space was empty.

“She moves fast,” Alex muttered shaking it off to jog closer to the boys. He was close to sitting down on the bench when it caught his attention.

“Whoa. That’s nasty.” Alex spoke, gaining his bandmates attention to the bench they had overlooked.

The bench was made out of two snowboards in stone and wood combinations with a gorgeous design. Pieces of the snowboard made to look like a nearly finished puzzle—a plaque on a thick post behind it.

“For the girl who changed the sport for women. Fast like a fox, as graceful as a swan, may you guide lost souls to safety.” Reggie read off the plaque. Luke’s fingers went to brush the ice and snow clouding the picture above the words.

“You guys coming?” You yelled from a distance startling all three intrigued teenage ghosts. Their eyes glanced at the edge of the board in the picture that matched the bench.

“Thanks for that by the way,” Luke spoke gesturing to the area as the Gondola moved down the mountain. His eyes greener in the dimly lit enclosure that shadowed your flustered features at the sole attention.

“I’m on the mountain every day. It was fun talking with people my age.” You informed them pleased to sit in the silence. The three took in the sunset from the height with no buildings blocking the view, “If you can’t find me, I’ll be on the mountain.”

Once back on the bottom of the mountain, the four teenagers snuck the equipment in your personal shack to dry and keep hidden for future lessons. The three guys bid farewell to find Julie in the large cabin, each with beaming smiles and stories to tell the girl.

“Where’ve you guys been?” Julie asked the ghosts in the tucked-away corner near the massive fire ceasing her scribbling to look at them, “Usually I can’t shake you. I had to sit through a safety talk by the director for the mountain.”

“This wicked girl taught us how to snowboard! She’s so cool, Julie. There’s this passion in her when we got on the mountain. The passion that we all have for music!” Luke gushed, breaking his cool guy personality, “She’s so patient.”

“What’s her name?” Julie laughed, getting a first-hand look at Luke all crushed out on someone. His cheeks a rosy pink and soft eyes it amused Julie just imagining the number of love songs he would pen.

“Y/N.” Luke sighed slouching against the wall, “She’s so pretty.”

“-once more, I ask that you check every morning and afternoon for weather conditions, the local Avalanche Information Center website and be aware of our maps for potential avalanche areas. We have a live app that gives updates as well. Just a reminder that I’m Susan and you can also have the ski patrol contact me for further information. Enjoy your stay!” Susan called out gracefully cutting through the crowd to Lucy falling asleep in her chair.

”I heard some lady talking to her friends that the safety regulations and rules increased after an avalanche killed someone. I didn’t catch the name, but it took weeks before they found the bodies, they found the board in a few days.” Julie supplied with a half-smile at another reminder of death.

The three boys had a moment of clarity. They put the pieces together that the bench made of the boards was in memory of the person who died. It was a bitter moment of potentially standing where a person tragically killed with no warning.

“Anyway, I have to meet Dad and Carlos in the room. Have to video call Tía as her stressed wishes for not being home.” Julie sighed, pushing her feet into the slippers, she left the dino ones at home, she had grabbed from the room.

A few days into the Molina’s white Christmas it had been a charming morning thus far. The guys had done a songwriting session for most of the morning. Luke’s eyes continued to scan the room for you as he had since the first day. He had yet to see you inside, if the ghostly trio wasn’t on the mountain with you, then you were playing with Lucy.

 Julie and the Phantoms had retreated to the suite the Molina’s had been assigned when the weather looked questionable. Most of the tourists had either stayed in their rooms, cabins or in the main building. It led to Julie taking the session to the privacy of the suite to avoid looking like a crazy person.

“I need to stretch. Walk?” Reggie asked, gaining different sounds of agreement from the band.

The four individuals walked to the main lounging area where a crowd formed around the makeshift stage. On it was Susan shaking in her husband’s arms.

“Please, has anyone seen Lucy?” Susan sobbed, “She’s ten years old. She’s got blue eyes, ginger hair and she’s small for her age.”

Julie joined her father near the crowd, where he swiftly brought his eldest child into his arms with Carlos. Ray’s heart clenched at the thought of his kids going missing like the owner of Fox & Hare owners.

“Dad’s what’s going on?” Julie questioned viewing the blownup picture of a little girl, the perfect split of her parents.

“Susan Fox’s daughter Lucy didn’t show up for breakfast. They thought she was playing just outside the building. No one has seen her. There have been warnings of avalanches, and the mountain was closed twenty minutes ago. ” Ray told his daughter squeezing her once more cementing his gaze on the couple, “It’s devastating to them.”

“Why?” Julie questioned for the concerned ghostly trio at her side.

“A few years ago, Susan and her husband closed the resort for a few months. They completely gutted their regulations and worked closely with avalanche experts. They upgraded the area for increased safety and reworked the rules and regulations.”

 “What does it have to do with Lucy?” The Puerto Rican girl questioned furrowing her brow in the same way her mother had. Julie had scrapped back her hair into a half-up ponytail this morning.

“They did all that because they lost their daughter in a slab avalanche when Lucy was three. Slab avalanches are the most dangerous type, they make up 90% of avalanche deaths.” Ray sighed, staring up at the snow-capped looming mountain, “It took weeks to recover her body, there’s a bench on the mountain where she loved to snowboard. She was training for the Olympics actually.”

Luke’s attention faded from the conversation recalling that you would be on the mountain at dawn to watch the sunrise. In the sudden motion, Luke stumbled over his own feet heading straight for the shack. His mind is numb as he applied the gear to his body, the movements keeping him from panicking. Luke sensed rather than saw Reggie and Alex behind him.

“What are we doing?” Alex questioned, getting dressed as well.

“Going to the mountain.” Luke was very determined. Catching Reggie’s confused gaze Luke roughly gestured to the far corner, “What’s missing?”

“Y/N’s gear.” Alex and Reggie breathed physically shaking at the desolate area where a gorgeous board usually was. That lit a fire under their asses for sure, grateful for poofing they appeared on the mountain.

Scouring the white background, Alex pinpointed a speck of seafoam green running for a speck of bring pink and yellow. In the fear they had taken to sprinting in the bulky boots as if they felt something about to happen.

Your attention solely on Lucy, “Lucy, we need to leave now.”

For Lucy, the mountain was her life, it had been one of the things that her older sister lived and breathed for. All Lucy wanted to do was to be like her big sister. Lucy had the potential, her moves and posture striking to the late sister.

“This is the best trail!” Lucy stomped her black boot in the snow while her other one secured in her snowboard.

“It’s also one marked off for an avalanche.” You hissed to the little girl staring up with tear-filled eyes, “Please, go back.”

The unmistakable ‘whoomph’ sound shattered the otherwise quiet area freezing Lucy in her steps. The once stubborn ten years old turned petrified at the sheet of snow coming straight for the two girls.

“Slab avalanche.” The words covered by the snapping of trees. Your arms yanked Lucy up as you raced perpendicular to the moving snow.

Your ears couldn’t distinguish between Lucy’s screams, your screams or even the loud sound of the destructive avalanche. The alarm and terror drowning your insides, leaving no room for thoughts, only actions. Lucy’s small stature and the years you had on the location helped to dive into a safe zone.

Even in the safe zone, you raced further to collapse with Lucy’s inconsolable body quaking in absolute distress. The tears of relief fell down your face as you leaned against the bench of the memorial. Your head thumped the bench causing a puff of snow to fall on your hat.

“Holy shit.” The sob of words from Luke came before his arms wrapped around you. With being able to touch Julie, the guys didn’t get alarmed at the sight.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” Alex frantically scanned the little girl before moving towards you in the same amount of fear. Reggie rendered speechless at the events.

“What the hell were you thinking!” Luke shouted, lunging away to stare you down. Tears streaking his own cheeks, “You’re also preaching the safety rules of the resort. You definitely read the reports and decided to come on the mountain?”

“Luke,” Reggie mumbled remaining the only one standing. His words went ignored, “Luke! LUKE!”

“What!?” Luke snapped resulting in the bassist flinching at the stark memory of his home life, “Sorry, Reggie. What’s wrong?”

“I don’t think Y/N was ever in danger,” Reggie stated, bringing both confused boys to where he stood.

There above the bench uncovered by the snow that melted on Y/N’s thick toque was a picture. Above the quote was a picture of a girl holding the snowboard the bench was made of. Wearing a unique matching snow set was the exact replica of the girl Luke had fallen for.

“Holy shit.” Luke and Alex murmured gaping at the picture and the name of the girl who had died.

Luke recalled things you said,

“I used to work in here.”

“It snapped in half.”

“It was fun talking with people my age.”

Luke’s mind went a step further recalling the first lesson you gave the guys where you went from the bench to the Gondola in a short time. How people didn’t react to you, the ski patrol that ignored you every time on the mountain with them.

“You’re the daughter that died in the avalanche.” Luke gasped, dropping his jaw nearly to the snow-packed ground.

“Exactly seven years ago today.” You replied, keeping your eyes glued to your little sister yearning to comfort here, “Reggie, can you go in the building and press the red button? It’s a signal sender for people sheltering from the conditions.”

Nothing could meet the feeling of your parents weeping along with Lucy after the medic deemed her okay. While you wish you could join the hug, you also knew that things happened for a reason. The feeling that same with kissing Luke could never meet the level of happiness at Lucy’s safety.

I came close to killing ten year old Lucy in this but decided not to be cruel.

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[danger-xylophones]

Family Reunion Part 10

{masterlist}

Warnings: Have some more angst, my friends. Some character death-as in It happened in the past TPM, some description of pain/injury, a contactless duel, brief mention of suicidal thoughts. 

This got really dark towards the end, I’m sorry. 

Notes I’m so sorry this took so long, I was going through some stuff and this was a real humdinger of an installment to get hung up on. 

Ya’ll need to thank @aberionart for this even getting completed. If not for her art giving me the motivation to attack this beast of a chapter, it wouldn’t have gotten done. Thank you for helping me get out of my writing funk! I always love your art and how positive and supportive you are of everyone! 

PADAWAN WILD

Words: 6.7k

Taglist:@and-claudia // @tararuthven // @aberionart // @noiralei // @pinkiemme // @darthsmol // @zabrak-show // @obi-wan-kanbonemi // @videogamesandpoorlifechoices // @justalittlecloud

<- Previous 

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“Well,” a voice unlike any you’d ever heard before seared over your ears-creating a cold sense of dread that dripped down your spine like ice water. You flicked your eyes open cautiously and raised your head off of Wild’s, simultaneously pulling the young boy closer to you. “What do we have here?” It continued, echoing all around with a low, completely unnatural reverb. You couldn’t help but pick up on the way the owner of the voice pronounced the letter ‘w’-like a ‘v’ instead. It...it was similar to the way Maul used to speak after trying to teach you paecian. It was always so funny to you that speaking in his mother tongue accidentally made him develop a bit of an accent for a little while afterward. Reluctantly, you rose to your feet, keeping Wild close to your front though as your gaze trailed down the ramp to observe Savage standing next to a tall creature clad all in red. They had a high forehead and black tattoos over their face in large blocks and groups. Eventually, you locked eyes with them, e/c staring into piercing, eerie blue. “Ah, you must be padawan L/n.” 

“Mother Talzin, I presume?” You greeted cordially despite the agonizing urge to reach for your sabers and rid the galaxy of the witch. “I am...honored to finally meet you in person. But, if you please, I go by Y/n as I have forgone any affiliation with the Jedi.” 

Mother Talzin hummed, moving unnervingly slow as she bowed her head just enough to acknowledge your confession. The strange tentacle-like pieces of cloth affixed to the back of her cloak followed the movement, slithering in the non-existent wind. “Very well, Y/n.” The Nightmother scanned you in silence after her statement, most likely trying to size you up. You kept your chin raised as you turned to face her more and pushed Wild behind you. Immediately, the witch caught the movement and her eyes zeroed in on Wild. “Ah, and who might this be?” 

You swallowed and let your eyes flicker over to Savage for help but the yellow zabrak could offer none. “This is Wild.” You eventually explained. 

“Your son?” The Nightmother observed though you had the slightest inclination that, though it sounded like a question, it was a statement designed to make you uncomfortable. And it was working. You nodded briefly, tongue darting out to quickly wet your lips-you were getting nervous. Mother Talzin became quiet again, now scanning over Wild who was quietly peeking out from behind you, one hand fisted into the fabric of your tunic and the other itching for one of the sabers on your hip. Evidently, he was as uncomfortable as you were. “He is a fine specimen.” You bristled, stepping to the side to shield Wild from her gaze entirely as your hand landed on your saber. Talzin looked back up at you and spoke with a wry smile, “It is a shame he is a half-blood, he would have made an excellent nightbrother.” 

Over my dead body. You thought bitterly and fixed the witch with the most murderous stare you could muster. Talzin was unfazed by your offense and simply directed her attention to the other red zabrak in the cargo hold-Maul, who had sequestered himself behind boxes once more now much further into the hold. The guilt that followed your realization that he was hiding from you stung more than any blaster bolt would. 

You were pulled from your misery by the sound of the force swirling and converging on one spot, ominous whispers and chants following where it went as a green mist started to fill the cargo hold. Mother Talzin, still stood at the end of the ramp was swirling her hands around a steadily forming glowing green ball of her magic. “Come,” she commanded, her voice taking on a higher reverb, “Let us fix what has been broken.” She calmly released the green ball and it glided over to Maul, bathing the cargo hold in an unsettling yellowish green as it went that had Wild clinging tighter to you as he poked his head around your waist to watch. Your hand fell to his shoulder, wrapping it in a tight grip as you followed the orb with your eyes. “Come to me.” Talzin continued. “Come to me, come to me.” The orb disappeared briefly as it weaved between crates, only trackable by the ominous green glow. “Come to me, lost one, come to me. Follow us, son of Dathomir. Follow me, lost one.Come, child of Dathomir. Follow me.” Talzin urged once more, the whispering and chanting echoing ominously back, till Maul finally began to listen. Originally shying away from the magic, he now followed it-shoving boxes aside and chasing after it like a child enchanted by an odd bug that flitted through the air. 

You started to back up to give Maul more room and encouraged Wild to do the same with a hand on his shoulder. He rolled it and your hand fell away. It felt like someone had stabbed you through the chest. You froze completely, eyes glued to the half-zabrak who didn’t acknowledge you and instead kept his attention fixed on Maul as he followed Mother Talzin and Savage away. 

The hangar fell silent. Neither of you moved. 

You rolled your lips in, anxiously gnawing on them. You had to say something. “Wild…” you began in a soft voice. 

“Don’t.” The word was whispered, barely audible, but it bombarded your ears like a barrage of blaster fire. “Just...don’t.” You had never heard your son sound more defeated. 

“Alright.” You swallowed in an attempt to keep the tremble at bay. “Wild, are you okay?” 

“...Yeah.” He lied and you sucked in a breath. “I don’t want to talk about it.” 

Force, you’d messed up. “Okay…” you began slowly, stalling on every syllable that left you, “what do you want?”

“...” Wild shifted but continued to stare at the opposing wall. You could hear the answer he wanted to give as it floated all around you, suspended by the anxieties of the both of you. Force, you’d messed up. The truth. It mocked you. Bouncing off of the walls and around your feet-all emanating from the only other person in the room. The truth, the truth, the truth. “A duel.” 

The reply caught you off guard, Wild’s thoughts and true desires disappeared in an instant which returned the both of you to that deathly still cargo hold once more. “What?” You asked, taken aback. 

Wild finally turned to face you, his little red face set in the most serious expression he could muster. To you it was the perfect cross between Maul’s scowl and your glare and you did not like being on the receiving end of it. That look was meant for strangers that were too nosy for their own good. That look was a defence you had taught him. That look was not supposed to be used against you. “You joked about training earlier and then you asked me what I wanted. Well, I want to duel as part of my training for today.” The young boy asserted with crossed arms. 

You blinked, regarding your son uncertainly. Wild didn’t like to duel because he could never beat you and that always frustrated him and he’d get all huffy and sulk in the farthest place from you. “Alright…” you began. You continued to size Wild up. Your son had a plan and he was determined to box you in, that much you could tell, but what that plan was was unclear. The truth. That was his goal. And suddenly you knew what he was going to do. Both he and yourself knew that you were the most open about Maul when you were preoccupied. So, in theory, if Wild could distract you with a fight he could weasel more information out of you. A good plan but not one you’d go along with. “Here.” You tossed your blue lightsaber to the boy who scrambled to catch it. “Take up position.” You commanded, switching into your teaching voice-the one you had once used on younglings during your tenure as a padawan, the one Ki-Adi had used on you, the one you loathed to use on Wild. Following your own instructions, you ignited your lightsaber, green blade bathing the cargo hold in a complimenting glow, and dipped into a slight crouch. The hilt of the saber twirled elegantly in your hand-a practiced manuever Maul had helped you perfect so you could slip between forward and reverse grips with ease. Wild faltered. Evidently, he had been prepared to argue. But, your son reacted swiftly by correcting his face and mimicking your pose though he kept his saber in front of him pointing up. “I don’t need to repeat the rules-no contact, tap out when you need to, and nothing that could endanger either of our lives. It is crucial to be aware of all that is around you in a duel and a great way to practice is by following the rules laid out during training.” You quickly rambled off the same spiel you always repeated when you and Wild dueled. “If any real injuries occur, we end the duel immediately. Understood?” 

“Understood.” Wild confirmed with a firm nod. 

The game began. You kept your eyes trained on your son and remained still, your only motion the infrequent twirl of your lightsaber as you gave the boy the opportunity to make the first move. He was beginning to look more and more uncertain. Still, he took a step to the right-you took a step to the left. You took another step, he did as well and thus you both began to slowly circle each other. Wild shifted his grip, slipping into the opening stance for Form II and you mimicked him-your own legs taking on a wider stance as you brought your lightsaber slightly off to your side pointing up and held between both hands. Form IV, the form you’d adapted to survive. In your training you had always favored Form V, liking the way it offered both defense and offense, but after meeting Maul you’d started to favor IV. Wild, on the other hand, was a more defensive fighter (probably because he was younger) and he relied heavily on the basics and Form III. But he was nervous-he was vulnerable. And he wasn’t going to make the first move. Noble but potentially dangerous. You moved in. 

You darted forward, lightsaber swinging for his left leg as it was the most exposed. Wild moved quickie and swung his blade down to block it and you fell back. Your son was too careful-too afraid of fighting to chase your strike. It was something you were working on-you’d forgone teaching him IV for now and opted to begin V for him to encourage the introduction of more offensive moves. It was a slow process. 

Spotting another opening on his right, you moved in again. Wild reacted quicker this time and met the strike with enough time and force to push you back. Good. But that left him exposed to a kick to the ribs. You brought your leg up quickly and stopped just before you made contact. “Protect your vitals, Wild.” Was your simple instruction as you moved away before he could retaliate. You were moving quicker now, feinting to the right before swooping in for his left. And Wild was beginning to loosen up-reacting more sharply as he did so. But still, “Wild, loosen up. You’re far too tense for any effective combat.” You corrected with a well aimed poke with your index finger to his kidneys. It was an attack he would’ve been able to block had he spun in time. Wild whirled around to strike at you but you were too quick, already leaping over him to continue mock-striking his sides and other exposed vitals. Wild was growing frustrated. He spun on his heel faster than anything you'd seen from him this whole time and brought the blue lightsaber down. You met the strike. He moved to the right, you matched him. He moved his blade to the left, you twirled yours to meet the strike and pushed him back. A huff slipped from him as he recovered and came at you once more. You blocked it and quickly brought your leg up-attempting to “kick” him in the side again. He took one hand off of his blade to block the strike which was a critical mistake. You spun around swiftly and caught Wild’s blade once more and began to steadily force him to back up. Locked in a stalemate with you steadily placing more of your weight in the strike and Wild perpetually collapsing under it you made your next move carefully. You snapped up, removing your weight with a quick spin of your saber that had Wild’s wrist twisting back uncomfortably. He yelped and dropped the saber. You deactivated yours and stepped away while your son assessed his wrist. “Loosen your grip next time, it will help you maneuver the blade more fluidly which, in turn, will make a move like that much more difficult for your opponent to pull off.” 

Wild muttered something under his breath that you didn’t catch, eyes trained on the fallen lightsaber as if he could make it combust with his mind. “Would you like to try again?” There was no verbal response from the young boy. He, instead, bent down and scooped the weapon up again-inspecting it as though he had never seen it before. He was silent for a few more seconds. 

“When can I get my own lightsaber?” He finally asked and met your e/c eyes with his saffron ones. “Yours is too light. It feels like I’m holding nothing.” Too light. You knew Wild didn’t like using your blue saber-while it was the heavier of the two you weilded it was still built to be lightweight like your green one-though it wasn’t a complaint he voiced often. You shifted, your stoic, teaching oriented facade falling away for a moment. Wild was proving to be more and more like Maul as time progressed-he favored brute strength and speed despite being a defensive fighter. With a deep breath in you steadied yourself, mind flitting to the location of the lightsaber you had intended to give him-it would have been perfect for your son despite only being half of his father’s original weapon. You had rebalanced it (your pet project you used to lessen the ache in your chest when Maul’s “death” was a fresh wound). You made sure that the energy dispersion was adequate but the blade still deadly. You’d cleaned it and sealed the bottom up to remove the jagged edge left from when Kenobi sliced your love’s weapon. You’d restored it. But the kyber crystal was removed: taken out to avoid potential injury of you or your son should it decide to malfunction and placed in a hidden compartment in the bottom of your green saber. 

“I told you-once I finish teaching you Form V, we’ll try and sneak onto Illum or somewhere else to find you a kyber crystal.” You informed placidly, keeping your eyes on your son. You filed away the knowledge of Maul’s saber for now. Wild grumbled under his breath again and you raised an eyebrow at him. “Would you like to try again?” You asked once more. He didn’t answer verbally, merely slipped into the opening stance for V this time. With an acknowledging nod, you readied your own weapon. 

Wild struck first this time: darting forward with as much speed as he could muster. Instead of blocking it, you fell back and doubled around to strike at his back. But Wild had learned and fell forward causing you to stumble which gave him time to whirl around. He brought his saber down towards your leg but you blocked it. Instead of backing off like you thought he would, your son continued to press his weight down. “Good, Wild, good.” You commended in as warm a tone you could muster. “But watch your back leg because…” you spun out of the lock and mimicked his earlier strike though you stopped before you made contact. “If I was a real enemy, that would be the first thing to go for.” Wild didn’t acknowledge the instruction. He, instead, launched right into another volley of strikes. “Your wrist, sweetpea, use your wrist instead of your whole arm-it’s faster, more maneuverable, and it doesn’t take as much energy per strike.” You corrected again. There was a muttered complaint under his breath but he did correct his grip. You took the chance to lob your own series of strikes against your son. His blocking was a little sloppy but he had improved since the last time you sparred. 

You were getting bored though. Without warning, you raised a hand and used the force to pull your son off balance. He hit the durasteel with a loud thump, the lightsaber clattering on the floor next to him. Almost immediately, he slammed his hands down and sat up to regard you with the most scathing scowl he could. “That’s cheating!” Wild shrieked at you. 

You tilted your head and shrugged. “Your opponent will do whatever they can to gain the advantage-you must be prepared.” You explained placidly whilst inspecting the hilt of your lightsaber. “Again.” Returning your attention to the half-zabrak, you slipped into your opening stance once more. The young boy sighed exasperatedly and snatched up his fallen weapon. Your son was starting to get frustrated which told you it was almost time to take a break. “Once more and then we’ll stop.” Nothing. “Fair?” A low sigh and the igniting of the blade once more was his reply. This time, you didn’t wait for him to strike. You surged forward, aiming a strike for Wild’s neck at as slow a pace as you could manage. Wild met it and flicked you away but you were quick on the uptake and resumed. Another strike towards his leg, towards his arm, and his hip-each one deflected and reciprocated. Wild was getting better at tapping into V, relying less and less on the purely defensive tactics he always relied on. But, he was getting tired; his strikes were getting sloppy. You weren’t faring much better. A headache had formed-the two epicenters either side your skull. It was strange. There was a bizarre climbing sensation that accompanied it-like two hands clawing up either temple. You were very grateful that you decided this would be the last round as a quick nap seemed to be in order. 

Wild was still on the offensive, attacking with all the strength he had but he was slowing down quick. Again, you raised your hand and pushed him away using the force. The boy sighed low in his throat-the sound bordering on a growl. But, his attacks resumed all the same. You repeated your own actions. “Stop.” The growl was more coherent this time. You both repeated. “I said stop that!” Wild snapped again, diving forward. You furrowed your brows and fell back to avoid the strike entirely. You raised your hand once more and Wild froze mid step, held in place by an invisible grip. 

“Wild, are you alright?” You asked, teacher facade fading entirely as you sheathed your saber and took a step towards him. “We can call it quits if you’d like-!”

“Will you stop that?” Wild yelled and in his anger, he managed to escape your grip. The boy recovered quickly while you were left floundering, trying desperately to understand what was happening. But you weren’t fast enough. Wild set his face in a scowl, his eyes flickering a strange color for just a moment, and raised both of his hands and your back collided with the opposite wall. 

You didn’t know what had happened. One minute, you and Obi Wan were stuck behind ray shields, helplessly watching the ensuing fight between Master Qui-Gon and your love, your husband, Maul, and the next, you were curling over Master Qui-Gon’s body in a fruitless attempt to urge him to cling to life while Obi Wan went for Maul. You knew what Maul was. You knew what he could do. But to see him do it? 

You were trembling, eyes not straying from the two figures locked in combat. You didn’t know what you were feeling but there was a lot of it that caused an anxious swirling cyclone to manifest in the pit of your stomach. One hand curled around your barely formed bump-was that really the father of your child? The one that could kill without thought? No. You told yourself. No, that is not my Maul. That...that is Darth Maul. There was a sudden squeeze of your hand that momentarily distracted you from the fear now slowly consuming you. Qui-Gon was still fighting. 

“Master Qui-Gon!” You exclaimed quietly, returning your attention to the dying man. “Master Qui-Gon, speak to me, please.” You begged the Jedi. Almost painfully, his eyelids fluttered open. 

“O-Obi Wan? Where...where is Obi Wan?” He wheezed and looked around as best he could. 

Tears pricked your eyes as you opened your mouth to answer. “Fighting Maul, maste-” You were cut off-your body suddenly airborne. You flew away from the fallen Jedi’s side until your back collided rather harshly with a durasteel wall on the opposite side of Qui-Gon. Pain ricocheted up your spine at the sensation as your eyes immediately tried to take in your sudden shift in surroundings. Your gaze settled on Maul and Obi Wan, the former stood with his hand outstretched towards you and his lightsaber at his side. There was an unreadable expression on his face that was dominated by concern. Rightfully so, you should think, from having practically flung you across the room. Still, it was clear that he hadn’t meant to launch you into the wall-a minor comfort in contrast to the dawning understanding that you had been so foolish. You were a traitor to your people. You were in love with a Sith. 

“Mom! Mom, please! I-I-I’m sorry! I-I didn’t mean to-to throw you. I was just, just angry and I don’t know what happened. Mom?” You were brought back to reality by the frantic shaking of your shoulders, the stinging in your lower back, and the throbbing of your head. Not to mention the downright terrified tremor in Wild’s voice. Your eyes flickered open. Panicked saffron met your unfocused e/c. “Mom!” Wild exclaimed and launched forward, arms wrapping around your neck. 

“Sweetpea, what happened?” You kept your voice quiet as you returned your son’s panicked hug. It was a little awkward given your current seating against a box on the floor but you voiced no complaint. 

The boy pulled back and your heart broke at the sight of tears gathering in his eyes. “I-I don’t know! I just...I just got really mad and-and I wanted to...I don’t even know what I wanted and I just was going to push you like you’d been doing but-but...I threw you and you weren’t waking up!” Wild explained in a shaky voice that you could barely understand, chest heaving with barely restrained distress. 

Thinking quickly, you placed one hand on his shoulder and the other went to cup the side of his face. “Hey, look at me.” You commanded in a very soft voice and an imperceptible tug to focus your son on you. “I’m alright. I’m not hurt.” You continued slowly, trying to convey that you weren’t angry or even injured. Sure, your back stung from the impact and it appeared as though it had triggered an unwanted trip back to an unpleasant memory but you knew it wasn’t Wild’s fault. “You did not hurt me, Wild.” You reassured once more whilst maintaining eye contact with the young boy. He sniffled and blinked and the gathered tears finally fell. “It wasn’t your fault, sweetpea.” You continued, now carefully wiping the tears away. Wild now refused to meet your eye but you pressed on. “And I don’t blame you. Accidents happen-I can’t tell you how many times I accidentally shoved your father when we’d spar.” He looked up at that and you sent him a smile, happy to see the curious glint replacing his previous sadness. 

“Really?” He questioned in a tiny voice. You smiled a little wider-you knew you were somewhat playing into his original trap but this felt like a tidbit you could spare to tell. 

“Yeah, he was always trying to teach me how to be more aggressive-in regards to dueling, mind you-and...I may or may not have gotten carried away a few times.” A wistful look darted across your face. “If he were here, he’d be embarrassed about how many trees I launched him into.” 

“Trees?” Wild was brightening up now. 

“Oh yes, we had a special planet we’d meet on-one far out of the Jedi’s range where we could just...be us. For a little while anyways.” You sighed. Us. “It was a beautiful planet, Wild, with lush forests and countless caves filled with glittering jewels. And the most gorgeous waterfalls I’d ever seen.” You could see it now, the planet you hadn’t dared to return to. You’d gone everywhere else alone and with Wild but that damned planet. “We met in the same spot every time-in the clearing where we’d met and we’d go running off to explore...we’d find a lake to spar next to and…” a giggle escaped you at a vague memory of Maul’s first reaction to swimming, “and I’d teach him to swim sometimes too.” 

Wild laughed with you, more so out of shock that reminiscence. “He didn’t know how to swim?” 

You shook your head. “He was from here, Wild. Dathomir’s not known for its swimming holes.” You explained with a comical lift of your eyebrows at the boy. “Anyways, in exchange I guess he’d teach me how to fight like him. And that meant I had to learn how to channel my anger. That meant I accidentally threw him a couple of times. It’s something you’ll learn too and if I must, I will gladly be your test dummy.” Wild huffed a laugh through his nose and you patted his face, pleased to see him calming down. You fell quiet for a moment as you observed the little lift of Wild’s smile and the scrunch of his nose that always followed a laugh. It was your smile on Maul’s face. Wild had Maul’s eye color but your eye shape. Your nose but the slight scrunch Maul would do when he spoke or smiled. He really was the perfect combination of you both even if your attributes were subtler. Wild was determined, intelligent, and protective. He was thoughtful but action-oriented as well. Calculated but not heartless. “Force, you’re so much like him.” You finally broke, not even aware that the thought had escaped you. 

“Like who?” Wild asked with a slight tilt of his head-an action no doubt learned from you. Curiosity seemed to radiate from him but also an underlying keenness that told you he knew exactly who you were referring too. Clever-another one to add to the growing list. 

“Your father, Wild...I...I wish he’d gotten to know you.” 

“Y/n…” Maul seethed, his voice ringing in your ears though it was barely above a whisper as he stalked closer to you. His lightsaber...or rather half of his lightsaber still grasped in his hand. 

You were running towards him despite the short gap between you and crashing into his chest before you knew it. “I know, Maul, I know.” Your voice was choppy, form shaky, as you wrapped your trembling arms around his torso. His hand fell on your shoulder-not quite returning the sudden embrace but gripping hard enough to make it clear he had you. “I know I shouldn’t have come-I should’ve run away as soon as that damn door opened. I’m sorry.” The zabrak was silent as his lightsaber hummed close to your ear. You continued to press your face into his robes, not acknowledging the heat close to your head. Eventually, Maul took a deep breath and released it in a sigh as he sheathed his weapon. His arms wrapped around you-one on your waist while his other brought his hand to the back of your head. 

Maul pressed his face to your hair and you could feel his lips move as he spoke. “It’s alright, my light. I know.” The sound of him so gentle and understanding nearly brought you to your knees. This was your Maul-not whoever he was mere minutes ago as he battled your fellow padawan...Obi Wan...you didn’t dare let your mind dwell on the fate of him. 

You held each other for a moment more, the world around you slipping away, until you became overtly aware of how your stomach brushed against his. Your baby...you had to tell him now. You pulled back till you could look him in the eyes, saffron surrounded by a ring of vermillion meeting with your e/c. “Maul, I have to tell you something.” 

“He...he would’ve loved you.” You were ashamed of the way your voice broke at the admission. He would have loved Wild-that much you were certain of-if he he had gotten the chance to know him. But would either have that opportunity now? If Mother Talzin was successful in restoring Maul, would he be the same? You knew that you’d changed over the years-you’d had to for both your son’s and your own survival-but what would Maul be like? Your husband or the Sith Lord?...You supposed your distinguishing between the two the last time you’d described his father had not been unprecedented. With a deep breath in to steady yourself, you returned your attention to your son. “He would have taught you so much more. I wish you could meet him, Wild.” But...I don’t know if the Maul you meet will be the one I fell in love with. 

“Mom, you...you don’t have to talk about Dad if it’s too painful.” Wild’s barely audible voice brought your attention back to the present. 

“No....” Your voice was firmer than you’d expected it to be which took both you and your son aback. “No,” you tried again in a softer tone, “you...you deserve to know everything.” With a nervous swallow you continued. “Whatever you want to ask...I will answer.” There was no going back now. If the Maul that returned wasn’t the Maul you had known then maybe you could give Wild a chance to know his father through you. 

Wild gaped at you for a few seconds, your offer not quite computing. “...Are...you’re serious?” He asked skeptically with wide eyes. “Actually serious?” Your only reply was a nod as you let your hands fall to your sides and you shifted to sit on your knees. He was quiet for a moment longer as the gears turned in his head-most likely searching for the right first question. “Where did Dad die?” 

You swallowed again to stifle the panic. “...he...he didn’t.” Wild’s eyes widened a little further as shock overtook his face. “I...lost him on Naboo.” You scrambled to elaborate as your son fell completely silent. You weren’t even sure if he was breathing. “I thought he died but...when Savage found us...he told me that he had been sent to find him. He wanted me to help locate your father. I told him that I watched him die on Naboo.” 

“What was he doing on Naboo?” Wild finally spoke after another beat had passed. 

“He was...helping enforce the blockade.” You knew you were being vague but Wild was going to draw his own conclusions soon. 

“The blockade?” He emphasised, referring to the blockade you’d told him Darth Maul had overseen. “What...why?” 

“His master had instructed him to.” 

“His master? So...Darth...did Dad work with the Sith?”

He was getting closer, that was for sure. “...Yes.” 

“Was...was Darth Maul his master?” 

“...No.” 

“Then...I don’t know what that means.” Wild admitted, retreating inwards to mull over the newly divulged information. 

With another sigh, you closed your eyes in an internal debate of whether or not you provided him with what could possibly be the key clue your son needed. It was a short lived debate though. “Peace is a lie, there is only passion.” You began to recall the mantra Maul had often recited to you when teaching you how to channel your own anger. “Through passion, I gain strength.” Your eyes began to sting behind your eyelids as tears of your own began to form. “Through strength, I gain power.” There was a shift-not only in the cargo hold or between you and your son but it felt like a great power was being awoken all over the red bathed planet. “Through power, I gain victory.” It shifted again, growing stronger, angrier, darker. “Through victory, my chains are broken.” The chains...the chains are the easy part...it’s what goes on in here that’s hard. Those words-some of the first coherent thoughts to spill from Maul upon you and Savage finding him suddenly rang throughout your head. What went on in Maul’s head would certainly prove the most difficult part to understand, that you were certain of. It had taken you months to even get a read on his personality when you were young. It had taken months for him to accept his feelings for you and even longer for him to accept that you returned them. It had taken years for the two of you to decide that spending the rest of your lives together was the right course of action and months for the Force to grant you one physical piece of evidence to prove the validity of your relationship. The Force had given you Wild and the promise of a life with Maul...and almost all of it had been taken away in an instant. Your lives bound to the will of the Force by chains too thick to break. “The Force shall free me.” You opened your eyes and let your gaze fall on Wild. He was staring at you with a mixture of confusion and undeniable curiosity. 

“What...what was that?” He asked in a tiny voice. 

“The code of the Sith.” You answered immediately, the words falling freely from you now. 

“Why do you know that…?” 

“A Sith taught it to me.” 

“Who?” 

You blinked. He was so close to figuring it out. “I have only ever met one Sith, Wild.” 

“...” He said nothing, his gaze moving away from you to gaze out of the cargo hold at the red bathed planet. Wild’s jaw was tense, his hands anxiously clenching into fists only to unclench a moment later, and his eyes frantically darted from side to side as though watching a battle before him. “What…,” he turned to you, “was Dad’s name?” 

Finally. You closed your eyes once more to prepare yourself for whatever was about to come. You only spoke once you opened your eyes. “Mau-” A searing pain tore through your abdomen, cutting you off in an instant. Screams clawed from your throat at the sudden sensation that felt not unlike a heated knife being stuck into the flesh above your hips and around your torso. You fell to your side, hands snaking around your lower stomach. 

“What is it, Y/n?” Maul questioned, picking up on the urgent tone in your voice immediately. His hands retracted from around you to take a firm hold on your forearms. 

Unable to fight the smile that clawed itself over your face, you turned your hands over to also grasp his arms, anchoring both of you in that moment. “Maul, my love, I’m-” He stiffened, eyes locking on something above your head. With a harsh shove he sent you to the floor as his hand shot for his lightsaber. 

It happened in a blur-a flash of green, a choked breath, and the worst pain you’d ever felt tearing its way across your lower abdomen. It was the worst moment of your life-your love and your connection to him being severed in one fell swoop from Obi Wan Kenobi. You didn’t know if you screamed or cried. You didn’t know if you did anything else besides watch as Maul fell away, lost to some unimportant reactor shaft on Naboo. A death so unbefitting a man of such power it almost felt poetic. Unjustly poetic. Was this some form of punishment? You knew you grabbed his lightsaber, clinging to it as you prayed for death to take you as well. If the Force should decree for you to suffer a fate worse than death than it would lose you to it as well. 

But you were stopped. Two hands pulled you away, you were led back to the council to await a different fate unknown to you. The last touch of your love seared into your skin as was the pain of his fatal wound. 

You opened your eyes, vaguely aware of the mutterings falling from you and the cold press on your forehead. There was a firm grip on your hand and a warm weight pressed into your side. “Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force shall free me.” Your voice mixed with another’s graced your ears-the mantra of the Sith being repeated over and over as the pain in your abdomen began to fade till none remained. You sat up and immediately wrapped Wild in a hug. His muttering stopped to be replaced by yours. “Wild, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” You kept repeating it as your son clung to you. 

“What happened?” He gasped out, grip like iron as he latched onto your arms. 

“Maul.” You brought him up to eye level. “Maul’s back.” You exclaimed, already able to feel the familiar turbulent presence of your husband. “He’s back.” You began to struggle to your feet, shaky and weak as they may be. 

“Mom, calm down-you’re injured.” Wild tried to drag you back down but you pulled your hand away from him. 

“No, I’m not. I’m fine. Wild, we need to go. Please. He’s back.” You tried, already doing your best to march out of the cargo hold.

“Mom, hold on. What are you talking about?” 

“Maul. I told you. Come on!” You were insistent, being pulled out of the ship by that commanding presence. 

“Not until you tell me what my dad’s name was!” You stopped short, realization dawning on you. 

Before anything could be said, a clinking sound echoed in from outside the ship causing you both to freeze. Wild immediately dropped into a defensive position, calling your blue lightsaber to him. You closed your eyes again, trying to sense what was going on. Maul’s presence was overwhelming-it crashed into you like a wall of water freshly freed from a dam. His signature was one so powerful and tumultuous that you had had little else to liken it to over the years. Where your connection with Wild was quieter and warm, the one to Maul was fiery and deceptively silent, threatening to burn you if you held onto it for too long. Force, you’d missed it. You stepped forward, eyes flying open as you did so and focused on your own presence-trying to amplify it for Maul. You had to know if he was the same man. The clinking stopped. His signature changed-a blinding glow forming to accompany the wrathful haze that always surrounded him. The clinking resumed, faster now as Maul grew closer to the ship. 

You broke out in a run, darting out of the ship before Wild’s startled cry could meet your ears and rounding around the wing of it. You stopped the same time the clinking did as before you stood a red zabrak, standing a little warily on his robotic legs, whose head was crowned with ivory horns and whose eyes burned with light brighter than any star. “Maul…” You breathed out. 

He straightened up, confused scowl falling away, as he spoke with a voice that rumbled like distant thunder. “My light…” 

…………………………………………………..

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[forever-rogue]

Of Princes & Berries - Part 2

A/N: Thank you guys for all the support on part 1, I’m so glad you guys liked it! Oberyn has my heart, always.  As always, feedback and comments are welcome, and if you’d like to be tagged, let me know! xx

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: depictions of violence, overall :( (don’t hate me)

PART 1 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7 | PART 8

MASTERLIST

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Your room was small. Sparsely decorated with the few items you had, and a bed pushed into the corner near the small window you had in order to soak up as much sun as possible. You always liked the sun, how it warmed up your face and seemed to set your whole on fire. Growing up as a young girl in the Reach, you'd spent many afternoons lazing about in the sun, soaking it all up. Now, as a woman grown, it was hard to find any light in the cold, stone walls of the Red Keep. Now it seemed like an endless monotony of gray and beige.

But ever since Oberyn and his Dornish envoy had arrived, everything has seemed lighter, happier, more sunny. You vowed to try and soak up as much of the sun as possible, even if it was only temporary. Sitting down on your bed, you kicked off your shoes and let out a long sigh as you stretched your tired limbs. You had been kept busy all afternoon, fulfilling all sorts of menial tasks that been found for you, no doubt due to Cersei. For some reason tending to the sows and roosters and sheep had suddenly become your duty. You had no doubt it was to keep you away from the main part of the castle, and hide you away from your new friend, the prince.

You’d decided that you’d try and steal a quick bath before changing into your other set of clothes and heading down to grab some dinner from the kitchens. By then it would be nightfall and if you were lucky, you’d be left alone and have some time to yourself. You’d acquired a new book recently, and were eager to crack into it. When you’d spotted the beautiful leather bound book abandoned in a quiet section of the castle, you’d taken it, hiding it under your skirts. You were one of the few servants that could read, a gift bestowed upon you from Elia Martell herself. She’d always treated you with such warmth and generosity; it was such a far cry from Cersei and how the Lannisters ran things. 

As you reached for your clean clothes and a makeshift towel to dry yourself off with, a loud knock came at your door. It was so loud, it startled you, causing the clothes to tumble to the floor. Groaning you picked them up, and set them on your bed, rushing to open the door before the person on the other side grew more agitated. 

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” you squeaked as you pulled open the door, eyes widening in surprise when you realized who it was. Cersei stood on the other side with a sickeningly sweet smile on her face. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you spied the large, ornate bowl she was carrying in her arms. It looked to be filled with...berries. You gave her a curtsy before meeting her eyes; they always seemed angry and hateful, and whatever expression she tried to convey never quite reached them, “y-your Grace. What can I do for you?”

“Oh no,” her voice was pitched an octave and you could see she was refraining from expressing her true feelings, “it appears I am here to do something for you. Can you believe that? The Queen doing the bidding of a pauper prince and delivering something to a servant girl.”

“I-I don’t understand, your Grace,” you shook your head and took a step back, hoping she wouldn’t reach out and strike you. She’d had a period where she had been prone to that, slapping anyone who dared to question so much as a word she said. Luckily, it had been a while since you had personally faced her wrath. Something deep within you told that your time of smooth sailing was quickly coming to an end. 

“These,” she displayed the ornately carved bowl towards you and you could tell that it was teeming with all of Oberyn’s beloved berries, “are for you. From the Prince himself. He asked me, personally, to ensure that you receive them.”

“I had no clue he would do that,” you stuttered, backing further into your room, Cersei following you inside, “I-I’m sorry, your Grace. He must not be thinking clearly. I-I didn’t ask-”

“Hmm,” she reached a few hand up and trailed it along your jaw before touching a lock of your beautiful hair. You gnawed on your bottom lip as you tried to stop yourself from crying, feeling the familiar sting welling up at the back of your eyes, “I’m sure you didn’t, you filthy little whore.”

Her words cut you almost as much as her hand as she slapped you across the face with fury. You clutched the spot, already sore, and surely red as she pushed past you and leaned against your window. Wiping away the few tears that had rolled down your cheeks, you almost whimpered, “your Grace, I’ve done nothing...I don’t why-”

“Such a shame,” she said softly as she took the bowl and dumped the fresh fruit out of the window, letting them land on the ground outside. You made a small, pathetic sound as you watched a wicked smile cross her face, “all that exquisite fruit wasted. You should be more careful next time. If the prince were to find out I’m sure his spirits would be crushed. He had these brought in, just for you.”

“Your Grace-”

“And this lovely bowl,” she traced her long fingers over the carvings, “all the way from Dorne. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

You weren’t sure how to answer her. Whatever answer you provided her with would be the wrong one. On the one hand you could agree with her, after which she'd accuse you of being nothing more than a whore and confirming her suspicions. If you disagreed, she'd just call you a liar and somehow still make you the guilty party.

You remained silent as you looked at her wide eyes, cheek still stinging and burning. It would surely leave a mark for everyone to see in the coming days.

"No answer?" she mocked you, her voice a cruel sneer, "what a pity. I think it's quite beautiful despite being made by Dornish savages. But I suppose none of that matters."

Before you could open your mouth to speak again, Cersei took the bowl and smashed it on the floor. You watched in horror as the it shattered into a million tiny pieces, scattering all over the floor.

"Oh dear," she pretended to be shocked as you sank to your knees and tried to grab at the pieces, trying in vain to gather each little bit, "you should be more careful, silly girl. I wonder how the prince will feel when I tell him not only did you refuse his gift, you destroyed it all."

You looked up at her with teary eyes, still trying to scrounge up the pieces, feeling them leave little cuts in all over your fingers. You wanted to scream at her, to tell her she was a horrible person, but you refrained. Either you held your tongue or faced life locked away, or if she was feeling particularly cruel, death.

"Clean this mess up," she hissed through gritted teeth, "and then yourself, you smell like shit. And no supper for tonight."

You didn't even bother to say anything as she swept past you, her long skirts dispersing the mess further. Your warm tears mixed in with the little bits of brilliant red blood that had bubbled up on your fingers.

"If I ever see you near Oberyn Martell again," she said softly, "I will have you hanged. Remember your place - you're just a servant, you are no one."

Without another word she walked out and slammed the door loudly behind her. Listening to her treating footsteps for a moment, only when you were sure it was all clear did you allow yourself to fully collapse on the cold, stone floor, openly weeping by now.

But you kept at it, picking up each tiny shard until you had them all on the blanket of your bed. It was long dark now, only the glittering of the lamps outside casting a small glow in your room. People were still outside, even at this hour, feasting and drinking, and having a joyous time. And here you were, alone, hungry, and crying. All because you had a few conversations with someone that didn't treat you like the kitchen scraps. All because someone treated you with kindness.

You wondered where he was now. You hoped he was happy. You hoped he was having a good time with his friends. You hoped he would somehow know what happened and that you would never have acted in such a horrible manner.

By the time you were finished, it was late and there was nothing to keep you company except the inky blue sky, littered with glittering stars, casting the ghost of light throughout the Red Keep. You stood up, finally, and grabbed the your change of clothing, quietly heading out of the room to go to the washroom designated for servants. 

You were fortunate that you going yourself alone, letting yourself cry, deciding that you were going to allow yourself to wallow and feel sorry for this evening and this evening only. Tomorrow you would be steel; cold, quiet, emotionless.

Heating up water, you made it as scalding as possible, slowly stripping off your clothes and allowing yourself a peek at your reflection in the aging looking glass. Once you studied your face, eyes red and swollen with tears, and a large red welt across your cheek, you grew annoyed and covered up your reflection with your dirtied dress. Stepping into the scalding water, you hissed when it burned your skin, especially that of the cut flesh of your hands, but pushed through, telling yourself that it didn't matter, nothing matter. But you still found it around to remind yourself of that. It was hard to feel like no one when he had made you feel like someone.

»»————-　♡　————-««

The next couple of days, you were, once again, resigned to the dirty jobs throughout the castle. Jobs normally left for the men or the stable boys. You knew Cersei was waiting for you to come or make some sort of remark, but you remained silent and went about your duties without a single word. You didn't even appear at meals; at the end of each day you returned to your room, sitting there silently as the sun went down, and slumber took over. The welt on your face has turned into brilliant shades of blues and purples, but no bothered to ask what happened. No one had to.

By the third day, you had gotten into a rhythm and finished your daily tasks early, just as the sun was setting. Instead of going in search of dinner or retiring to your room, you decided to head to the seaside. If nothing else, it would serve to hopefully instill a bit of peace within you. Plopping down on the soft ground, you kicked off your shoes and sat your feet in the sand, raking your fingers through it, as a long tired sigh escaped your lips. The sound of the soft waves was soothing to your ears, along with the chirp of the birds flying overhead. For the first time in days, you felt somewhat normal, as you watched the sun sink over the horizon.

"It's quiet out here," the warm, velvety voice surprised you, but despite never having much of a conversation with her, you immediately realized who it was, "such a welcome change from the mess of King's Landing."

"Lady Ellaria," you turned and gave the stunning woman a small smile as she sat down next to you. It was hard not to stare at her; she was like a goddess incarnate. You could see why Oberyn was so taken with her.

"I am no lady," she insisted with a small smile as she picked up a handful of sand and let it run through her fingers, " unlike you, Y/N Hunziker."

You stiffened at the sound of your familial name, the one you had disowned all those years ago when you had left to find for yourself in King's Landing.

"I don't use that name," you said quietly, pointedly looking anywhere but her face, "and I'd prefer it if you didn't either. I don't know how you found out who I am and I don't care, but I go by Flowers now."

"Why do you choose to go by a name reserved for a bastard when you are not one?"

"I am no one," you shrugged lightly, looking away and studying the ebb and flow of the low tide.

"You've been absent for a few days," she pointed out as you stood up and brushed off your skirt. You were about to reach for your shoes, but she was faster, taking them and clutching them to her chest, "I've noticed. So has Oberyn. He has grown concerned."

"He has no reason to worry," you lied as you tried to keep from crying and breaking down in front of her. Your heart ached at the thought that he not only noticed your absence, but mourned it. You reached for your shoes but she refused to hand them over.

"Where have you been, sweet girl?" she asked gently as she handed your shoes over. You had inadvertently brushed your hair back, exposing your face to her. Her dark eyes immediately raked over the mark on your face, widening in surprise. Realizing your mistake, you quickly grabbed your shoes, covering your face with hair again. The angry red marks littering your hands and wrists were not lost on her, "Y/N?"

"I've been nowhere," you said quietly, as you started to walk away, "being no one."

»»————-　♡　————-««

You'd promised yourself you wouldn't cry anymore. That you wouldn't allow yourself to be weak and vulnerable. But once you found yourself back in your quarters you flopped face down in your bed and let the tears flow freely. You'd made one friend, two if you counted Ellaria, but you were destined to be kept apart all because of birth, because of a name, a family. And he cared about you; at least enough to express concern to his lover. Who had sought you out in return.

And so you wept. And wept. And wept. Until your tears had run dry, until your throat was sore and you had a headache. But before you could try and get some relief through sleep, another loud knock came at your door. Your anxiety only increased as came to the conclusion that it could only be Cersei coming to berate you further. Practically dashing to the door you pulled it open without hesitation, dropping it into a deep curtsy, "your Grace."

"Stand up, sweet girl, there is no need for the formality," but it wasn't Cersei's voice that met your ears. No, this one was much more inviting and pleasant - musical. You quickly stood up to your full height, scanning over Oberyn and quickly meeting his dark eyes; they were filled with concern.

He gently reached up to touch your face, but you flinched out of his touch. When he tried to stop you, he had reached for your hands, but tensed up at the feeling of your marred skin. Letting out a small sound of surprise, he took your hands in his much larger ones and examined delicately, a look of anger crossing his handsome features. You didn’t even know how he had managed to find you, to find your quarters hidden deep within the hallowed halls. Ellaria had no doubt told him what she had witnessed, which caused to break and pursue you. 

Pulling your hands out of his, you took a step back and studied your feet; you wanted nothing more than to tell him the truth, to tell him what had happened. But you refrained, afraid of what would happen to yourself, and Oberyn, if he was seen speaking to you.

“What happened to you? Who did this?” there was a dangerous edge to his voice, his heart plummeting to his stomach at your recoil.

“I-it’s nothing,” you lied quickly, “you should go. You can’t be seen here.”

“And why not?”

“Because it is improper,” you swallowed the lump in your throat, “a prince should not be consorting with a servant.”

“Oh my sweet girl,” his voice softened and was enough to make you want to throw yourself into his arms, “who told you this? What happened?”

“I’m only telling you what’s right...what’s proper,” you allowed yourself to meet his gaze, but regretted your decision as he scanned your face, intently studying the painful looking welt, “I must remember my place. I am no one, and you are...a prince of Dorne.”

“Did Cersei do this to you?” of course it didn’t take long for him to put two and two together. He remembered how Cersei had acted when she had seen the two of you in the gardens. A bout of rage soared through every fiber of beginning as he imagined her inflicted this sort of pain upon you, “did that vile, wretched woman touch you?”

You didn’t confirm or deny anything, opting instead for silence, which served as an answer to his question anyway. He let out a long sigh, his gaze never leaving yours as tried your best not to cry anymore, “you need to leave, Oberyn. Please.”

“Did she...” he trailed off, running a hand over his face in exasperation, “did she bring you my gift?”

You didn’t know why you decided to lie, but you weren’t just honest with him. Letting out a shaky breath, your voice shooting up an octave, “yes...and I disposed of it. It’s not proper for you to be giving me anything. The Queen kindly reminded me of that.”

His nostrils flared as his eyes flicked across the room as he spotted the shards from the bowl you had collected. He knew you would never, ever do something like that. This was all Cersei’s doing, that much was evident. Oberyn put his large hands on either side of your face, gently as possible to prevent hurting you further, and forced you to look at him, “Cersei did this, didn’t she?”

You remained silent, unable to stop a few tears from rolling down your cheeks. Oberyn swiped them away, his heart breaking at the sight, “please, Oberyn, you need to leave.”

“Tell me,” he insisted firmly, “tell me exactly what happened. Please, my sweet girl, just tell me.”

“Nothing happened,” you lied directly to him, finding it both harder, and easier, than you thought, “the queen brought your gift to me and I refused it, at her suggestion.”

“Y/N-”

“I got rid of the berries,” your voice shook a little, “and I broke the bowl.”

“You did all this?”

“Yes,” your lip trembled as you hoped he would realize you were lying, able to red between the lines. You knew he would; he already knew the truth without even hearing it from your lips, “I did this.”

He hesitated slightly, how own hands shaking slightly before he pulled close to him, gently pressing a kiss to your forehead. How you wished you could give into him, to let yourself be completely free with him, but you knew, deep inside that it wasn’t an option. It would never be an option.

“You really want me to believe you did all of that,” Oberyn was quiet and gentle as he tried to convey to you that it would be okay. He silently vowed that he would protect, no matter what that meant. He was the Red Viper for a reason after all. He gestured to your hands and face, “and that you did that to yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Are you scared?” his voice dropped to a low whisper so the question was barely audible, even to you.

“Yes.”

He nodded as he pulled back from you, a torn look on his face as he tried to decided what to do. He could have easily found Cersei and extracted his revenge, but he decided that was too rash. But he would do something, anything, to keep you safe and sound. That much he already knew.

“Oh, my sweet girl...”

“You need to leave, your highness,” you pulled back and turned around so you were no longer facing him, “and make sure you aren’t seen. You can’t come back here...we can’t see each other anymore, while you are here.”

“Why?” he asked softly, and you wished you could get him to see why this was a bad idea in so many aspects, “tell me one good reason.”

“Because I am no one.”

“And you do not want to see me again?”

“Yes, your highness,” you lied, as you stared out the window, at the sky which seemed to contain no stars on this horrible evening. You covered your face as you wept, Oberyn watching slightly as your shoulders shake with your tears, “that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[bookjonsa]

"Of Sansa brushing out Lady's coat and singing to herself. You know nothing Jon Snow" seems straight out of a cheesy romance novel lol. Lets be honest here.

Yeah, that's our Jon, a romantic at heart:

Calling his half sister Sansa “radiant”:

Sansa looked radiant as she walked beside him, but Jon did not like Joffrey's pouty lips or the bored, disdainful way he looked at Winterfell's Great Hall. 

—A Game of Thrones - Jon I

Dreaming about his mother:

Not my mother, Jon thought stubbornly. He knew nothing of his mother; Eddard Stark would not talk of her. Yet he dreamed of her at times, so often that he could almost see her face. In his dreams, she was beautiful, and highborn, and her eyes were kind.

—A Game of Thrones - Jon III

Playing the hero: 

Every morning they had trained together, since they were big enough to walk; Snow and Stark, spinning and slashing about the wards of Winterfell, shouting and laughing, sometimes crying when there was no one else to see. They were not little boys when they fought, but knights and mighty heroes. "I'm Prince Aemon the Dragonknight,*" Jon would call out, and Robb would shout back, "Well, I'm Florian the Fool." Or Robb would say, "I'm the Young Dragon," and Jon would reply, "I'm Ser Ryam Redwyne.**"

—A Storm of Swords - Jon XII

*Ser Aemon the Dragonknight, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, he crowned Queen Naerys his Queen of Love and Beauty.

**Ser Ryan Redwyne, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, he crowned Queen Alysanne his Queen of Love and Beauty.

Giving courtesies:

"I don't even know your name."

"Gilly, he called me. For the gillyflower."

"That's pretty." He remembered Sansa telling him once that he should say that whenever a lady told him her name. He could not help the girl, but perhaps the courtesy would please her. 

—A Clash of Kings - Jon III

Playing the honorable knight:

After that he had taken to using Ghost to keep her away. Old Nan used to tell stories about knights and their ladies who would sleep in a single bed with a blade between them for honor's sake, but he thought this must be the first time where a direwolf took the place of the sword. 

—A Storm of Swords - Jon II

Straight out the book of courtly love...

Wooing a girl:

If I could show her Winterfell . . . give her a flower from the glass gardens, feast her in the Great Hall, and show her the stone kings on their thrones. We could bathe in the hot pools, and love beneath the heart tree while the old gods watched over us.

—A Storm of Swords - Jon V

Wishing for a domestic life:

I would need to steal her if I wanted her love, but she might give me children. I might someday hold a son of my own blood in my arms. A son was something Jon Snow had never dared dream of, since he decided to live his life on the Wall. I could name him Robb. Val would want to keep her sister's son, but we could foster him at Winterfell, and Gilly's boy as well. Sam would never need to tell his lie. We'd find a place for Gilly too, and Sam could come visit her once a year or so. Mance's son and Craster's would grow up brothers, as I once did with Robb.

He wanted it, Jon knew then. He wanted it as much as he had ever wanted anything. I have always wanted it, he thought, guiltily. May the gods forgive me. 

—A Storm of Swords - Jon XII

Calling his mare “sweet lady”:

The mare whickered softly as Jon Snow tightened the cinch. “Easy, sweet lady,” he said in a soft voice, quieting her with a touch. Wind whispered through the stable, a cold dead breath on his face, but Jon paid it no mind. He strapped his roll to the saddle, his scarred fingers stiff and clumsy. “Ghost,” he called softly, “to me.” And the wolf was there, eyes like embers.

—A Game of Thrones - Jon IX

Being friends with soft boys:

Whatever pride his lord father might have felt at Samwell’s birth vanished as the boy grew up plump, soft, and awkward. Sam loved to listen to music and make his own songs, to wear soft velvets, to play in the castle kitchen beside the cooks, drinking in the rich smells as he snitched lemon cakes and blueberry tarts. His passions were books and kittens and dancing, clumsy as he was.

—A Game of Thrones - Jon IV

Sam remembered the last time he’d sung the song with his mother, to lull baby Dickon to sleep. His father had heard their voices and come barging in, angry. “I will have no more of that,” Lord Randyll told his wife harshly. “You ruined one boy with those soft septon’s songs, do you mean to do the same to this babe?” Then he looked at Sam and said, “Go sing to your sisters, if you must sing. I don’t want you near my son.”

—A Storm of Swords - Samwell III

The boy claimed to be eighteen, older than Jon, but he was green as summer grass for all that. Satin, they called him, even in the wool and mail and boiled leather of the Night’s Watch; the name he’d gotten in the brothel where he’d been born and raised. He was pretty as a girl with his dark eyes, soft skin, and raven’s ringlets.

—A Storm of Swords - Jon VII

“Night gathers, and now my watch begins,” they said, as thousands had said before them. Satin’s voice was sweet as song, Horse’s hoarse and halting, Arron’s a nervous squeak. “It shall not end until my death.”

(…)

He could smell Horse’s unwashed breeches, the sweet scent Satin combed into his beard, the rank sharp smell of fear, the giant’s overpowering musk. He could hear the beating of his own heart. ”

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon VII

Satin was all grace, dancing with three serving girls in turn but never presuming to approach a highborn lady. Jon judged that wise. He did not like the way some of the queen’s knights were looking at the steward, particularly Ser Patrek of King’s Mountain. That one wants to shed a bit of blood, he thought. He is looking for some provocation.

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon X

Imagining his half sister Sansa calling the lands beyond the wall “an enchantment”:

The pale pink light of dawn sparkled on branch and leaf and stone. Every blade of grass was carved from emerald, every drip of water turned to diamond. Flowers and mushrooms alike wore coats of glass. Even the mud puddles had a bright brown sheen. Through the shimmering greenery, the black tents of his brothers were encased in a fine glaze of ice.

So there is magic beyond the Wall after all. He found himself thinking of his sisters, perhaps because he’d dreamed of them last night. Sansa would call this an enchantment, and tears would fill her eyes at the wonder of it, but Arya would run out laughing and shouting, wanting to touch it all.

—A Clash of Kings - Jon III

Giving up his deepest desire and by that, refusing to despoil his half sister Sansa of her rights:

“How can I lose men I do not have? I had hoped to bestow Winterfell on a northman, you may recall. A son of Eddard Stark. He threw my offer in my face.” Stannis Baratheon with a grievance was like a mastiff with a bone; he gnawed it down to splinters.

“By right Winterfell should go to my sister Sansa.”

“Lady Lannister, you mean? Are you so eager to see the Imp perched on your father’s seat? I promise you, that will not happen whilst I live, Lord Snow.”

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon I

Jon said, “Winterfell belongs to my sister Sansa.”

“I have heard all I need to hear of Lady Lannister and her claim.” The king set the cup aside. “You could bring the north to me. Your father’s bannermen would rally to the son of Eddard Stark. Even Lord Too-Fat-to-Sit-a-Horse. White Harbor would give me a ready source of supply and a secure base to which I could retreat at need. It is not too late to amend your folly, Snow. Take a knee and swear that bastard sword to me, and rise as Jon Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North.”

How many times will he make me say it? “My sword is sworn to the Night’s Watch.”

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon IV

And of course, as if he sensed he was going to die, informing us that his fondest memory of his half sister Sansa is the following:

He thought of Robb, with snowflakes melting in his hair. Kill the boy and let the man be born. He thought of Bran, clambering up a tower wall, agile as a monkey. Of Rickon’s breathless laughter. Of Sansa, brushing out Lady’s coat and singing to herself. You know nothing, Jon Snow. He thought of Arya, her hair as tangled as a bird’s nest. I made him a warm cloak from the skins of the six whores who came with him to Winterfell … I want my bride back … I want my bride back … I want my bride back …

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon XIII

He's so fluffy!  I'm gonna die!

Thanks for your message.

Good night.

[cuddlepilefics]

Sneezes in the snow

Fandom: Stray Kids

Sickie: Felix

Caregiver: Chan, Changbin, Hyunjin

 Felix’ POV.:

“Oh, come on Lix, don’t be a party pooper. It’s just going to be a short walk to the café, we’ll have a drink and a chat and then walk back home”, Chan sighed, “none of the other members are complaining, so why do you have to be difficult?” I bit my lip at our leader’s harsh words, though I knew he was only frustrated and not really mad. “Alright, just let me get changed”, I relented. It wasn’t even like I disliked their plan, I really liked spending our free time with the group, as well as I liked that specific café. What I liked even more was the snow that had gathered over the last few days, so it was only natural for my best friend to be confused by me disapproving of their plan. Usually, I’d be the first to put on my boots and then wait impatiently for the rest to finish, but an incident yesterday made me think about it differently. However, with Chan pressuring me and my members already waiting in their coats by the door, I forced myself into warmer clothes as well before joining the others, apologizing for making them way.

Upon stepping out of the building, I was immediately hit by bright sunlight. My nose twitched and I squeezed my eyes shut. " h-hESSH! hEGSHU!"- “Woah, couldn’t have warned me? I almost had a heart attack”, Hyunjin, who had been walking next to me gasped, dramatically placing a hand on his chest. Instead of answering, I held up one finger. "hGSHHU! Ugh sorry", I sniffed, bringing my gloved hand up to rub at my nose. “It’s ok. By the way, bless you”, the dancer giggled and I couldn’t help but smile back. That was a bad mistake, since in order to look at the taller’s face, I had to lift my head. Once the sunlight hit my eyes, I quickly looked back down but the damage was done and no matter how much I scrunched up my nose, the tickle wouldn’t back down. "hESH! heksHU!", I sneezed, cupping my gloves over my mouth. With my sneezes being rather forceful, I soon had the attention of the entire group and truthfully, I just wanted to sink into the ground, feeling incredibly awkward. “You good, mate?”, Chan frowned, slowing his pace, so that he was walking beside me. He let the maknae’s lead us towards the café that was only another two blocks away and rested his hand on my shoulder. “I’m fine, hyung. Don’t worry”, I chuckled. Our leader really was on the protective side. Having learned from my earlier mistake, I didn’t look up though and instead kept my eyes cast to the ground. Sadly, I soon came to realize that that wasn’t much better. No matter where I looked, the snow kept reflecting the sun, making it shine in my eyes and making my nose tickle unbearably.

“hhESCHuuh! *sniff* sorry” – “That doesn’t sound fine, mate”, Chan hummed sympathetically, “You’re sick, right? That’s why you didn’t want to come.” Hyunjin, who was walking on my other side, nodded along with Chan and handed me a tissue from a small travel pack he always carried in his pocket. “No really, I’m alright”, I repeated, dabbing at my nose. Awesome, I was already starting to get congested from all the sneezing. They didn’t seem to convinced but let it slide, especially when I sneezed less frequently for the rest of the way. Though that was only because I had hooked my arms with theirs, keeping my eyes closed as much as possible.

 Hyunjin’s POV.:

Felix had already seemed off today when he had initially turned us down, not wanting to leave the dorm. As soon as he started sneezing, the pieces clicked in my head and I felt sorry for my dongsaeng. He was obviously sick and would probably much rather be in bed than out here in the snow. When he hooked our arms, I didn’t comment on it, guiding him the rest of the way. He must be really tired, judging by the way his eyes kept closing. I glanced over at Chan, who gnawed on his bottom lip, looking guilty because it was him who guilt-tripped Felix into going out. We were walking a bit behind the rest and were the last to enter the café. The others had already gotten us a table, waiting so that we could place our orders together. I sat down, pulling Felix into the seat next to me.  “I’ll have a caramel-latte please and he’ll have some hot chocolate”, I smiled pointing at Felix, who sent me a death glare: “I wanted a caramel-latte too.” – “Sorry, no caffeine for sickies”, I giggled. We were all settled around the table waiting for our drinks, and I could see Chan watching his fellow Aussie closely. Felix seemed to notice too because he soon spoke up: “Seriously guys, I’m fine. Now could you stop looking at me like that? It’s creepy. Plus, Hyunjin, I still haven’t forgiven you for not letting me have coffee.” Chan sighed and looked away but now Felix had everyone’s attention. The other members who hadn’t witnessed the boy’s earlier struggle were eyeing him confused. “Is hyung sick?”, the maknae asked shyly. To which the said hyung answered: “No Innie, like I just said, I’m perfectly fine. Chan and Hyunjin just think I am and don’t believe me telling them otherwise.”

There was a long silence till Chan stood up: “You know, it’s easy to find out the truth. Your cheeks are all flushed. I’m pretty sure you have a fever, so let me feel your temperature and if you don’t have a fever then fine, I’ll believe you but if you do, you’ll drop the act.” The younger Aussie smiled triumphantly nodding. “I know for a fact that I do not have a fever. My face is flushed because it’s freaking cold outside, so go ahead. You’ll see I’m speaking the truth”, Felix urged, sounding all too eager to prove his hyung wrong. The leader made his way around the table, rolling his eyes. Standing in front of the younger, he gently brushed away the other’s hair and rested his palm on the now exposed forehead. “Yeah, I see. Felix drop the act, you do have a fever”, Chan frowned, moving the hair back in place and sitting back down when a waiter approached with their drinks. Felix himself was completely stunned and could only gape at his friend. It took a few minutes and a nudge from Hyunjin to shake him out of his stupor, making him yell: “Yah, hyung, your hands were just cold because you refused to wear gloves. I am perfectly fine!” – “Felix, we had agreed, you’d drop the act. Besides, stop yelling there are other people here”, the leader said sternly. Defeatedly, Felix sank back into his chair and I wrapped a comforting arm around his shoulders. “No, Hyunjin”, he frowned, shrugging my arm off, “you’re just as much of a traitor, although the cocoa isn’t even that bad.”

Felix remained silent for the remaining time we spent there, mainly just listening to the others bickering while he sipped his cocoa, not joining like he usually would. I couldn’t tell whether that was because he was angry or because he was feeling to ill to. Surprisingly, he hadn’t sneezed a single time since we entered the café and the congestion that was evident in his voice earlier was slowly fading too. Way too soon we were preparing to go back home. I had had a great time but agreed with the others who wanted to get Felix home and in bed soon. Not without the Aussie’s objection though. It almost seemed like he dreaded going outside in general. Not wanting to leave the dorm, not wanting to leave the café. He made sure to keep some distance from Chan and I, obviously still holding a grudge as he walked next to Changbin. We didn’t make it that far though before things turned bad again. "hGSHHU!  H-h hESH!” – “Oh, bless you, Lixxie”, the rapper smiled, linking their arms, when the younger stumbled a bit before sneezing again. I tried to listen in on their conversation but Changbin didn’t comment on Felix struggle, afraid to piss him off too. Felix seemed to have troubles walking straight and I only learned later that it was because he closed his eyes.

We almost made it to the dorm, when Felix was forced to look up again. He froze in his spot, before being thrown into a harsh sneezing fit. With every sneeze, the poor boy bent over further, stumbling and relying on Changbin to steady him. The poor Aussie barely got a chance to breathe and only managed to gasp out a weak ‘dizzy’ before his hyung scooped him up. Picking up his pace, Changbin hurried towards the dorm with Felix in his arms. The younger was still sneezing desperately into his sleeve, shuddering with the effort. Chan jogged ahead of them to open the door and let everyone in. As soon as they entered the building, the spell seemed to dissolve and Felix buried his face in the older’s neck, fighting to catch his breath. “Oh god. Everything’s spinnin’”, he breathed, slurring his words a bit. Changbin squeezed him reassuringly, following Chan up and into their apartment where he kicked off his shoes and sat down on the couch with the younger boy still in his arms. Chan carefully removed Felix’ shoes, the younger seeming completely drained, laying exhaustedly against Changbin’s chest.

When everyone had taken off their coats and boots, they filed into the living room, scared after they had watched the rapper storm off carrying Felix. “Still so insistent that you’re fine?”, the leader softly, carding his fingers through the younger’s hair. To everyone’s surprise Felix nodded. “Gimme a minute, I’ll explain”, he sighed, cuddling into Changbin till he found the strength to stand steadily by himself. The young Aussie went to his room, retrieving a bright selfie-ringlight and playing around with it as he sat down next to Chan. “So, first of all, I need you guys to know that I’m really not sick”, he explained, sounding a bit weak still, “there’s this thing called photic sneeze reflex which is very strong for me.” – “What does this mean, hyung”, Seungmin asked confused. Without any warning, Felix held up his ringlight, turning it on. It shone right into the leader’s unexpecting eyes, who gasped at the experience: “Lix st-hop, h- hah’AKCHHuu!” – “Exactly”, the younger chuckled, turning the light back off, “Basically, every time a strong light, especially the sun, shines into my eyes, it makes me sneeze. I only realized yesterday on the way back from my vocal lessons that it’s a lot worse with the snow reflecting it everywhere. That’s why I kind of dreaded going out today, I knew I wouldn’t stop sneezing as long as I was outside. Channie-hyung, your hands were really just cold earlier. I don’t have a fever.”

The leader had recovered from his shock and wrapped his arms around his soulmate: “Sorry for not believing you, Lixxie. And sorry for dragging you out when you had a clear reason why you didn’t want to go.” – “It’s fine, hyung. I wanted to have fun with everyone else and it wasn’t too bad, although I would really have preferred a caramel-latte”, Felix laughed and I scratched my neck awkwardly: “Sorry.” – “It’s fine, Jinnie. Sorry, I would have told you earlier so you guys wouldn’t worry but I found it kinda embarrassing.” Minho and Jisung only laughed at this statement. “It’s not embarrassing but really funny because it seems to work on anyone or at least you and Chan-hyung, how did the two of you survive in Australia?”, Minho smiled. Jisung started to giggle: “Hyung, you’re obviously thinking what I am thinking. We have ringlights too.”

Please read: After being on vacation for a while, where I had the time to write a lot, I’m now going back to studying and working a full time job. I’m sorry, I won’t be able to upload as frequently because I’ll be a lot more busy. I’d appreciate requests, although I can’t promise I’ll write all of them or in the same order that they come in. It’s easier to just write a paragraph whenever there’s a small amount of time till there’s an entire fic when you don’t also have to come up with a scenario. 

Please stay safe and healthy! <3

[outlier-rookie]

Of Blood And Greatness - Chapter 3

Chapter 3/?? - Settling In With Some Concerns

AO3 Link

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26305741/chapters/71331201

***

The next few chapters might be a bit slow pace wise because I want to build up a few more interactions between Reader and the Gang members. Don’t worry, we’ll get to the action soon enough.

TRIGGER WARNING: Anxiety/Panic Attack

***

“Wow (Y/N)! You’re as strong as Uncle Arthur!” (Y/N) paused long enough to shoot Jack a cheeky grin as they continued their path towards the horses, slowly carrying the last hay bale. The tall skittish fella, Kieran, had tried to offer to take the bales instead but (Y/N) was insistent that it wasn’t that heavy and they were no stranger to hard work and heavy lifting. Miss Karen had also had a good laugh with the other girls about the teen putting the likes of Bill and Sean to shame with how much heavy lifting they did around camp. Mrs. Grimshaw, as scary as she was at times, was also quick to praise (Y/N)’s hard work and help with the camp chores.

It had been a few days since everything that happened up near Cattail Pond and as the teen feared, Dutch was less than pleased with the total sum brought back to camp. But like Arthur had promised he was also understanding and despite (Y/N) feeling like they hadn’t delivered on their promise, Dutch welcomed them into the ragtag family of outlaws with a speech and fanciful words of things only getting better from here.

Still, the teen spent their days mulling over their failure with a hollow feeling sitting in the pit of their stomach. Mr. Hosea had sat next to them by the campfire one night with stew in hand and talked about nothing in particular. He started telling short stories from the gang's past and it didn’t click until the teen was falling asleep that night but the stories all had similar feelings to their blunder with the money. (Y/N) fell asleep smiling at the stars that night, putting the memory of Dutch’s ill-concealed disappointment behind them.

***

“Arthur! Welcome back son.” Dutch was sat by his tent smoking a cigar as Arthur led (Y/N) over to him. “So!” he started, standing with his arms extended; whether it was meant in a divine or welcoming manner, (Y/N) wasn’t entirely sure. “How’d your little excursion go?”

“’Fraid we ain’t getting to Tahiti or Australia with what we recovered.” The grizzled outlaw started. “Seems that someone else got to the stash before young (Y/N) here and took most of what we had.” Something in the teen's stomach dropped as the light in Dutch’s eyes seemed to dim slightly. The dark-haired man hummed and folded one arm across his chest, the other bringing his cigar back to his lips. He paused for a moment breathing slowly, the smoke flowing past his lips before being taken by the breeze.

“How much did you get then?” He finally asked

“Would have had ‘bout one third.”

“’Would have’?” (Y/N) shifted nervously and refused to meet Dutch’s eyes, ashamed that they had disappointed this man.

“O’Drisscols.” Arthur replied. “Weren’t the kids' fault. They ambushed us as we were crossing Cumberland Falls. Some of the money went over the falls. Didn’t want to risk staying around in case the law came snooping around. Was a pretty big scene.”

“I see.”

(Y/N) timidly raised their head to find Dutch’s piercing eyes once again focused on them. An old but familiar feeling of helplessness gnawed at their insides, causing their stomach to twist. As their instincts yelled at them to hide, Arthur stepped forward slightly and half placed himself between them and Dutch.

“It wasn’t their fault Dutch.”

“And you can be absolutely sure about that Arthur?”

“As a matter of fact, I can. If they was working with the O’Driscolls to set a trap, then they would have shot me and not three of Colm’s boys.”

Dutch actually seemed surprised by this.

“Sounds like they weren’t embellishing their skills with a gun.” Hosea’s smoother voice was like a cool balm on (Y/N)’s nearly fried nerves.

“Damn right. Them idiots didn’t know what hit em. Kid put them all down with one bullet each.” Arthur replied, stepping back some. An unexpected swift and heavy pat on the back sent the teen stumbling slightly and (Y/N) swore they saw a slight grin on Arthur’s face.

***

“You ok there?” (Y/N nearly dropped the horse brush they were using, as Charles’ deep voice startled them out of their thoughts.

“Y-Yeah! Sorry, was just thinking. Did you uh, need something Mr. Charles?” Charles smiled and the minor change in his breathing suggested silent laughter.

“You can just call me Charles you know.” (Y/N) scrunched their face-up made a noise that was a mix between disagreement and something a bit lighter than disgust which drew another silent laugh from Charles before he continued. “Pearson was complaining that the camps getting low on meat so I offered to go hunting for him. You’ve got a good eye and steady hands so I figured I’d ask if you’d like to come.”

“Really?” Excitement bubbled up inside at the thought of being able to do more than just chores around the camp. (Y/N) could only lug so much water and carry so many sacks before it got repetitive and boring. They weren’t strong enough to properly chop firewood and Mrs. Grimshaw and practically chased them away from laundry and sewing after the first hour. “When you leaving?”

“As soon as possible. I’ll ready the horses while you grab your gun.”

“R-Right! Just give me five. I need to check my satchel.”

With a soft ‘Alright’ from Charles, (Y/N) dropped the horse brush by the hitching post and jogged across the camp towards the medicine wagon. A ratty lean-to was set up next to it and under it an old bedroll. It wasn’t a whole lot but it was more than they had before joining the gang. The well-used bedroll wasn’t nearly as soft as their bed back at Estelle’s home. A small framed photograph of the woman peeked out from under the corner of the bedroll. The faint reminder of the woman who could be sweet as honey one moment and mean enough to give an angry Mrs. Grimshaw a run for her money brought a familiar pang of guilt to the teen. Bitterly they pushed the feelings and memories away and turned the picture over, hiding away from the loving eyes of a woman hundreds or thousands of miles away.

(Y/N) blindly stuffed a few items in their satchel and reached for their gun. Their fingers had barely grazed the sun-warmed metal before they jerked their hand back as if it had burnt. Glassy blue eyes stared blankly at the gun laying on the ground, seemingly mocking them from its pathetic position.

Stupid child.

What were you expecting?

These people were outlaws.

They were no stranger to killing other people.

If you want to survive in their world, it's either shoot first or get dead.

It was hard to breathe as (Y/N) felt their chest tighten like a red hot metal vice had been wrapped around their chest. An old familiar panic started settling into their whole being, starting in their stomach before it wrapped its tendrils around their bones before boring its way into their throat and brain. The air itself caught in their throat and their vision was starting to blur slightly when a hot and heavy pressure made its presence known when it landed solidly on the teen's shoulder.

“Woah there! ‘Sokay! ‘Sokay kid, you’re alright ya hear?” The voice was deep and familiar and most importantly grounding. Still, it took a second for the pressure on their chest to dissipate enough and allow a cool, fresh breath to fill their burning lungs. Blinking, (Y/N) realised that some tears had gathered in their eyes and quickly moved to brush them away, sniffling as they did. Finally, they were able to look up as see Arthur crouching next to them, his brows furrowed gently as he watched them.

“Everything alright Arthur?” (Y/N)’s eyes flicked up to the approaching figure of Hosea.

“We’re fine Hosea. I just startled them is all.” Arthur replied easily. Hosea stood by for a moment before slowly approaching the teen, not too dissimilar to how one would approach a scared animal.

“You alright?” His soft, aged voice reminded the teen of Estelle once more.

“Y-Yeah.” They mumbled. “’M sorry. Dunno what came over me.” They looked away from the two men, eyes once again landing on their repeater as once again a wave of hot white anger flowed through their veins. A weight in their dominant hand drew their attention and (Y/N) suddenly understood why Arthur and Hosea were acting so cautious towards them.

In their hand was their trusty knife, the bronze metal gleaming dangerously in the sunlight. It quickly dawned on the teen that they had pulled it on reflex when Arthur had startled them. A hot flush of shame and embarrassment flooded through them as they frantically shoved the knife back into its sheath.

“Those are some damn fine reflexes you got kid.” Arthur said. The words may have formed a compliment but the tone was wrong and questioning. (Y/N) didn’t want to answer. They just groaned out a vague noise of agreement and pointedly avoided looking at the two men and finished packing their satchel. Slinging the strap over their shoulder the teen all but bolted past Arthur and Hosea making their way back to the horses where Charles stood waiting, making some final adjustments to Taima’s saddle. His movements held some extra tension and (Y/N) just knew that he had seen their little incident and the heat returned to their chest.

“Ain’t we going to go? Mr. Pearson needs meat, doesn’t he?” They snapped.

“You don’t have to come if you-”

“I’m fine!” They cut him off. “Come on.” They huffed, barely resisting the urge to stamp their foot. They were fifteen and basically a grown-up and grown-ups didn’t stomp their feet like toddlers when they were angry. A heavy hand was placed on their shoulder once more.

“Alright then kid.” Arthur said. His gruff voice was uncharacteristically soft. “Mount up. And let’s get goin’.” Gently, Arthur nudged them towards Fortuna who nickered and shoved her nose into (Y/N)’s chest. The mare huffed as the teen half-heartedly scratched her cheeks before silently climbing on. Fortuna shook her mane out and turned as much as she could, keeping an eye on her rider. She let loose another whine as she tried to nose (Y/N) again.

“I’m alright girl.” The whispered, pulling a carrot from one of the many pockets in their satchel and offering it to the worrisome mare. Fortuna took the carrot without protest and calmed as (Y/N) stroked her neck. Tugging on the reins, (Y/N) directed the mare’s head towards the path out of camp. Charles and Arthur were on the backs of Taima and Admiral. Not obviously watching them but also doing exactly that with incredible obviousness for two seasoned outlaws. Huffing, the teen kicked and urged Fortuna forward

***

I started hitting a wall with this chapter towards the end so the ending may feel somewhat abrupt. I didn’t have the energy to beta read this or whatever so all mistakes are mine.

I have a better plan for what will happen in the next chapter or two

[crvsh-culture]

Hi! I love your writing 😍 Can I ask for prompt 3 for the kisses prompts with Lucas, please? I miss him 💓

Just Friends | Lucas Koh

i am so sorry. i got caught up in school and general life things, and haven’t had too much time to write (:

series: love island the game

character: lucas koh

kiss prompt 3: a breathy demand: “kiss me” - and what the other person does to respond.

warnings: none

The villa was stuck in a weird place. No one seemed to be paired correctly, and the few who actually were seemed to be pouting to one another. You fell into the latter- pouting and emphasizing a friendship that you very well knew was something more. It was a piss poor attempt of punishing Lucas for switching after Casa, and you were closer to cracking every day.

You knew that it was the right thing to do, of course. Even though he hurt you by switching to Blake, it was very obvious how much he regretted it the moment he saw you alone on that bench. So you saved him from the dumping, and muttered something about being friends through a petty attempt at keeping your emotions at bay.

And Lucas Koh was a stubborn man. Stubborn, and surprisingly very insecure. When he heard you call him a friend then turn your back to him at night, he patched up the walls that you had previously begun chipping away. Lucas was smart enough to know that this would likely blow up in his face, but he couldn’t help the gnawing insecurity that you truly didn’t want to be with him and began to shut down at the fear of watching you carry on with another man.

So the dull cloud that hung over the villa only darkened when two new islanders appeared just in time for breakfast. The fashion blogger had immediately set her sights on the young doctor, and he began his play of feigned amusement. It was then that he noticed the subtle shift in body language, the way you had suddenly turned icy and stayed by Shannon’s side at the table.

This is when Lucas decided to see just how far he could push this sudden change in emotions.

You weren’t just friends.

The invitation from Elisa came with no hesitation to accept, and Lucas made damn sure to catch your eye before he left. Lingering gazes. A fire in your eyes that he hadn’t seen thus far.

Bombarded with questions at their return, his eyes found you with ease. You joined him during the conversation, sat close enough for your legs to be touching as the group spoke about the spa date.

“I know that I was on the date with Elisa, but Jo is so cool too.” Lucas threw out the comment to no one in particular. But it seemed to land at his target- and that’s when it happened. When his petty behavior blew up in his face.

“That’s great.” Your cheeks began to hurt from the forced smile you kept on your lips. “I’m glad you and the new girls are getting along.” When you walked away, you were followed by the freckle faced baker boy.

The realization struck rather quickly. Instead of deflecting his insecurities, he had pushed it to far and dug directly into the insecurities you were forming about your relationship with him.

He stood from his lounger with a rather calm demeanor, walking to the villa as if everything had stayed breezy. But once he realized you weren’t in the kitchen, panic set in. Where has Bobby taken you?

A mad dash through the villa made him look like an idiot as he crashed through the roof terrace door, startling the pair standing so close together. “S-sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Too late for that.” Bobby muttered, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder and giving it a squeeze. Lucas watched the movement with a tick in his jaw, only released as the pastry chef stepped away from you. “For a man with a doctorate, you’re not the brightest.”

The door closing seemed to be the loudest sound he had ever heard amongst the silent tension in the air. Lucas cleared his throat by putting an awkward fist up to his mouth, shifting on his heels under your gaze. “Look, i’m sorry.”

“There’s no reason to be sorry.” Your voice carries with unusual levels of ice. “We’re just friends, remember.”

“Well I don’t want to be-“ His voice came out louder and much more desperate than he had meant for it to. You stared up at him expectantly as Lucas cleared his throat and took a deep, grounding breath. “I don’t want to be just friends.” He huffed as he stepped closer. “And I don’t think you do either.”

“Maybe.” You huffed, watching his hands hesitate to pull you in. A decisive step back sent a pang through your chest. “But Elisa was practically all over you and you just,” your voice cut off as the words fumbled aimlessly in your mind.

“Because i’m an idiot.” He offered with a humorless laugh. “Any time I see you with the other lads, it drives me crazy. I thought, maybe, you would end up feeling the same and that would, i don’t know, push the friends thing out the window.” Lucas leaned against the wall as he shook his head at himself. “Which sounds absolutely ridiculous as I say it out loud.”

“It was a really shitty plan.” You nodded, smiling despite yourself. “And I was jealous, but I didn’t want to react and make a fool of myself.”

“Listen, i want to be with you.” He breathed out, hands running along your arms and settling at holding your own.

“Lucas,” You began without a single coherent thought. “How do I know if we could make it in the long run?”

“We could probably start with better communication, first off.” He mumbled, pulling a smile that you truly were trying to suppress. “You’re the one i want to be with. And, not to be that guy, but I could never be just friends with you. There are too many feelings- i care about you way too much.”

“You care about me?” An arched brow, feigning doubt. Lucas pulled you closer by your hands, letting them slip around your waist, face lighting up when you allowed it.

He gave a firm nod, “More than you could imagine.”

“Nerd.” Your cheeks heated and there was a flutter in your stomach. Lucas rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t have expressed the joy of being able to hold you after such a long time.

“Am I more than a friend to you?”

“Just,” You huffed, fingers splayed over his chest. “Kiss me.” A low breath. A demand. Yet, it was music to his ears.

He pulled you in with no hesitation. The fire your normal kiss had was only a slight flicker, but it was filled with the passion and raw emotion he had always kept shielded from even himself. One hand ran up his chest, cupping the back of his head to pull him closer. The simple act curved a smile to his lips, shoulders relaxing and fingers rubbing gentle patterns along the small of your back.

Lucas didn’t look you in the eye when the kiss broke, instead resting his forehead against yours. But you knew of the vulnerability they held in that moment and it wasn’t something you wanted to push. It was a step, and you were now together.

You were officially more than friends again.

[7wanderingpaws]

Simply, yours (6)

Pairing:  Baekhyun x reader

Genre: family AU, hapkido teacher AU, PhD AU

Word count: 2.7K

Warnings: none

A/N: Haha I laughed at the reactions for the last part! Yes, it is all happening huu! I cant wait to write even more! And thank you for giving me feedback, it honeslty makes me feel happy and motivated! ❤

tags: @milky-baek​ 💖 (Im so sorry if there were more people who asked, my list got messed up? Im so sorry again, if you want to be tagged pretty please comment on this post or write anon/dm, Im fine with all! Sorry again!! :((( )

MASTERLIST

1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6

-

You left the doctors in deep silence.

None of you were capable to speak much, but there definitely was a lot to talk about, to discuss and probably re-think. Your mind was in an internal turmoil, and it seemed to be a vicious circle. What you just learned was something you would have never ever imagined before. That type of news was… news-worthy. Like television news worthy. From the excitement of the doctor, it easily could become reality.

You vividly imagined yourself talking to the reporter, the microphone of the broadcast station in your face as you tried to explain just how crazy your situation was. A poor countryside family (that didn't even tie the knot yet) expecting three…

Ridding your head of various scenarios, you entered the bus. Thankfully, there weren't many people as you entered the stuffy vehicle. Baekhyun quickly grabbed a single seat for you, wanting to stand right next to your side. Funnily, the one who constantly spoke and had an argument ready was now silent, deep in thought just like you. Glancing up at your boyfriend, he was holding the loop above his head, his gaze set on the road outside, but eyes unfocused. Who knew what was going on in his mind. Was it the same mess just like in yours?

Gnawing at your bottom lip and bunching up your skirt in your hands, you waited for him to look at you, to reciprocate the look. And after several seconds, he snapped out of his reverie and looked down at you, seeing your eyes bulging in scare. He smiled at you softly and widened his eyes at you as he pressed his lips tightly together, giving you a cute face.

You managed to lift one corner of your lips up and you dropped your gaze, reaching for his free hand in his pocket to hold on to, and he immediately complied. Squeezing yours tightly, you could sense he was worried, too. You rested your connected hands on your small tummy and you let out a little scoff in disbelief as you also looked out the window. Belly was small, but soon would be huge, bearing three lives.

Just how long could you prolong your silence at your workplace?

You only had few weeks left.

-

Once the doors of your apartment closed behind you two, you wrapped your arms around Baekhyun's neck, pulling him close to you, burying your head in the crook between his neck and shoulder. He didn't hesitate to hug you back, squeezing your aching body as gently yet as persistently as he only could to show you he was there for you.

“Baekhyun,” you whispered, the sound muffled, your breath hot on his skin. “Just what will we do?”

This time he also hid his face in your shoulder, while his other hand came up to rest on the back of your head. “We can do this. This is…” he hesitated before gently pulling back to gaze into your teary eyes, “a blessing. For me. For us.”

Momentarily, you closed your eyes and let his honest words sink in. He was right, of course. If everything would go well, you were heading into a family filled with happiness and lots of children's laughter. “It is, darling. But money-wise-”

“Don't even start,” he retorted gently and cupped your cheek. “That is not something we should focus on right now.”

You frowned. “How should I not focus on it when we barely live with what we have now? And we are two adults, Baekhyun. We need a lot of things for one child, can you imagine the amount of money that goes into three?”

“First, we need to sign up for the governmental support, but I am more than sure that is automatically given once you give birth,” he reasoned rationally, not letting your frown break his stance. “Second, you need to chill, okay? Leave it up to me, I know what I am doing.”

“You need to enlighten me, because I won't be able to chill otherwise.”

“You know I am soon done with my PhD. The position of the professor is literally months away,” he replied hurriedly, “we will manage, honey. I will give my everything to you, to them.”

“But I want to give as well,” you protested, stubborn. “I also want to provide for us, Baekhyun.”

“Well, you are doing just that, aren't you?” he asked, confused at your scared face. “C'mon, you are acting like you are going to get kicked out for being pregnant.”

That shut you up very quickly. Shit. He had no idea you would get sacked the moment your boss as much as sniffed pregnancy.

“You can work until you can, until your body is able to… as much as I hate to say it. I don't want to lock you down just because of your state, sweetie, hm?”

His words touched your heart, but he would soon find out he didn't have to do it because you would do it for him by losing your job. You wanted to laugh. 

“And then you will take the maternity leave. If you can work from home, even better, right?” Baekhyun kept going on, his features brightening.

You nodded, fazed. This was something you probably should resolve by yourself and very quickly. The last thing your wanted was for Baekhyun to provide for five people all by himself.

After few seconds of silence, he let you go. “Go change into something comfy, hm? I will prepare food, you need to eat.”

Standing still, you watched him move around your tiny kitchen, opening the cabinets, preparing plates, heating up food - when he sensed your unmoving body, he turned, and looked at you, perplexed. He called your name softly before coming back to you. “What's the matter?”

Staring at him, you were speechless. So you shook your head.

He chuckled quietly before cradling your neck and bringing your head close so he could give you a lasting kiss on your forehead. “My pregnant little lady.”

You scoffed. “Not little for too long.”

He laughed and his eyes shone when he looked at you, squeezing your cheeks. “Can you imagine? This young cheeky lady, and three babies inside.”

“Baekhyun,” you murmured, rolling your eyes. Your murmur came out funnily as he was still squeezing your cheeks, letting out a little yelp.

“But you are just so cute? How is that possible? Shit, you will be even cuter when the babies will grow!”

You sighed, realising he was in one of those fever moments when he just had to vent out his racing thoughts, be it whatever. “I will be an elephant soon.”

“A cute elephant. An elephant lady to her Dumbo boy?” he quirked his eyebrows and moved his ears back and forth, making you laugh out loud.

“You're unbelievable,” you giggled.

“There it is,” he murmured, affectionate gaze grazing your smiling features.

“Hmm?”

Slowly, he let his thumb trace your stretched out mouth and the soft wrinkles around your eyes. “The smile. The genuine smile. You look gorgeous with it, sweetheart. Whatever it is that is on your mind, vent it all out to me, okay?” he lowered himself a bit so he was on the same eve-level with you. “By no means keep it to yourself. We are in this together.”

You stayed silent for a moment, before saying: “I love you so much.”

He sighed, almost in relief, before bringing you into another hug. “And I love you, much much more.”

When the food was prepared and both you and Baekhyun were changed into comfy clothes, he sat you down onto his lap, both of you munching on the soup.

“This reminds me that one time we drove a truck and sat in the backside, trying not to fall out on the dirt road,” said Baekhyun before slurping on his soup.

You hummed, swallowing your portion. “You mean when you asked me to sit on your lap? And hold onto your sweaty chest?”

He gave you a cheeky grin. “Exactly that one. Just wanted to sweep that pretty young girl off of her feet, straight into my arms,” he sing-sang.

You giggled, remembering that time very well.

It happened before his enlistment. 

The day was scorching hot, creating droplets of sweat on your forehead within minutes of being exposed to the strong sunshine. Your uniform was plastered to your body, but thankfully no one could tell just how hot you were. Probably a big part of it could have been because of that gorgeous boy who was, of course, very well known in your village and the surrounding areas. The hapkido master and charmer who is able to make heads turn within a heartbeat, all for him.

That day he was working around your school and he happened to be finishing his work in the late afternoon just when you were leaving your classroom and heading outside, prepared for the long walk.

You knew Baekhyun. Your family knew Baekhyun. He was a trust-worthy young man and he also lived in the house next to yours. You might have shared few chickens as they were wandering around the shared space. So when he asked if you needed a ride home, you replied with a bright smile, your heart jumping like crazy, your mind racing with possibilities of what he might do. Would he give you a smile? Of course, he would. He was Baekhyun. And he reserved the sweetest of smiles only for you. They were breathtaking and made you feel like you were the only person on this planet. You wanted to share him never.

His colleague driving, you and him climbed on the back to enjoy the breeze throughout the drive but  there were no seats and your skirt was surely short. Baekhyun had had long taken of his sweaty shirt, his toned body glistening under the sunrays. He sat down on the edge with his knees politely connected before he patted the top of his thighs. “Come, sit here,” he said as the car moved and your skirt almost blew upwards before you and him both reached for the hem of it to keep it down.

You blushed a deep red and he gave you a lopsided grin before he gently placed his hands on your hips and helped you lower on his lap, his arm protectively around your back, his hand resting on your hip. His touch was burning through the material, but his breath which was so close to yours was scorching. The pull was strong, yet you didn't dare to look at him right away, feeling his searching gaze on you.

“How is high school?” he started, his voice light. To make sure you wouldn't fall, he placed his other arm over your thighs and looked at you curiously.

Your hands were folded in your lap, and you felt how he purposefully moved the hand closer so your hands would brush and rest against each other. You itched your hand just a tiny bit closer. “It's okay. Too bad the previous seniors are already gone,” you replied, boldly looking him in the eyes, referring to him. “Would have been more interesting to be at school.”

He chuckled boyishly, sending electric waves down your body. “Honest girl, I see.” He looked ahead for a bit before looking back at you again. “That's what I like. It's a shame, indeed. Would have liked to meet you on the corridors of the school.”

Would have loved to kiss you in the dark corner of the corridors, you thought, the idea so sweet you felt the pull in your insides. Ah, not now, don't think about it now! He is right here!

“When are you enlisting?”

“In a couple of months,” he replied. You expected him to grow dull at the idea, but he was still cheerful.

You smiled. “Seems like you are looking forward to it?”

“I love sports and I want to become a real man,” he admitted, laughing. There was a bigger bump on the road, making both of you jump up, his arm tightening around you in reflex which caused him to pull you even closer. Your faces were so, so close.

“I will miss you, though,” you mumbled sheepishly, not caring about almost falling off the car.

“I will come back, hm? It doesn't last forever,” he replied, still gentle in voice. Noticing your sour expression, he said: “ Now there,  I don't want to see that face,” he spoke gently, his face even closer now as you ever so slightly lifted your downcast gaze to meet his dark orbs. “You look beautiful when you smile.” And I think I want to kiss you.

But you might not be ready yet.

-

Sighing in content, you snuggled closer to Baekhyun as you fell asleep right after food. He realised quickly that the happenings of the day must have caught up with you, because by the end of lunch your head was dropping on his shoulder.

Tucking you in the bed, he pulled out his phone while he had you curled up by his chest, your head just under his chin, while his arm was your pillow. In that hand, he was holding his phone and scrolling through some information from the government that could give you help but as much as he scrolled he only got positive news. Although you wouldn't be receiving much, you sure would be getting some cash as a thank you, since the country was doing terribly in terms of birth rate.

Baekhyun was silent, except some random hums that would softly leave his throat, but nothing that would disturb you in your peaceful slumber. His free hand was caressing your back soothingly, slowly he would drag his palm up between your shoulder blades where he would make a circle and than go all the way to the small of your back, reaching the hem of your shirt, where he added more pressure, knowing your lower back was giving you a hard time already.

He was very excited about the news. Of course, it was only natural they caught him off-guard but he just wanted many kids with you and make a happy family like he always imagined. The fact that fate provided this all at once was a sign for him and he was not going to be the one ruining it. And he would make sure he was there for you during each step.

Even if your mind was troubled, you were sleeping rather contently in the arms of your man and his caressings were what you woke up to. Ever so slightly, you lifted your head to have a look at his focused stare illuminated by the screen of his smartphone. He was studying something, and even though he felt you stirring, his caressing had yet to cease.

You reached up with your puckered lips and gave his chin a gentle kiss, signalling him you were up.

He hummed, not looking down at you. “Sleeping beauty is up.”

“Sorry I fell asleep like that,” you whispered, not wanting to disturb the bubble between you two.

“Why are you apologising?” he whisper-asked back, now locking his phone and letting it fall from his hand to look at your pale face. “You must be so tired, honey. I like us being like this.”

You raised your eyebrows in question at his sudden confession.

He smiled gently and gave your nose a sweet kiss. “Lying in bed, you sleeping and probably the babies too, and I'm here looking over you guys.”

His words touched your heart. “Yes. I feel the safest when I am with you.” You caressed his cheek affectionately and he gave you a smile before grabbing his phone to go back to researching.

“Go, sleep some more, sweetie,” he said. “We have work tomorrow, so let's make sure you rest plenty.”

You bit your lip, hiding your face in his chest right away, the thought of entering work tomorrow quite scary.

Mulling whether you should tell Sukyeong about your situation and ask for her advice, you found yourself drifting back into another slumber.

Telling her would maybe ease your worrying heart.

But it wouldn't save your job for sure.

And that was the problem.

[ibijau]

Oh yikes, that situation wtih Jin Zixun is a mess. I gotta ask - in the answers to asks you always mention that the turning point for lxc is seeing nhs dripping wet and get his first ever boner. Does he also realise that nhs is a person with a personality in a similar manner, like a punch, or does it come naturally?

lxc is too emotionally constipated when it comes to nhs for it to comes easily, but...

It takes a multitude of drops to create an ocean, but they're still drops, one after the other.

-

The first drop is a “no” said with a calm voice belied by clenched fists.

“My uncle orders it,” Lan Xichen insists, shocked by this rejection of his authority. “He suggested it to your brother who agreed. We are to meet every week and...”

“No,” Nie Huaisang repeats, with more assurance. “I won't do it. Da-ge did not tell me to. Your uncle did not tell me to. And I'm not listening to you.”

“You think I'd lie?”

Nie Huaisang hesitates, his fists nearly trembling from how hard he clenches them, and smirks.

“I think I don't care what you have to say,” he announces. “I think if your uncle has sometimes to tell me, he can say it himself. Until then, I'm not spending more time with you than I have to.”

Taken a back and feeling anger rise in him, Lan Xichen doesn't stop Nie Huaisang when the other boy simply leaves. It takes him a few minutes to calm down enough that he can go seek out his uncle to tell him what happened, but even after Lan Qiren has promised to handle this, something still stings.

-

Laughter rings from inside the cabin, just as Lan Xichen was about to knock on the door. It is loud and unashamed and a number of things that aren't quite allowed in the Cloud Recesses. There's several voices, but one catches Lan Xichen's attention more than the rest.

He's never heard Nie Huaisang's laugh before.

When the door opens, Nie Huaisang still has a grin on, although it drops when he sees Lan Xichen and turns into a grimace.

“Oh, right, it's today,” he sighs, before turning to the company he has. “Wei-xiong, Jiang-xiong, sorry but I actually have to go. Can we continue later? I'll come to your cabin as soon as I'm done with this.”

Lan Xichen stares at the two boys inside. It's a surprise that Nie Huaisang has managed to make friends already, when last year he awkwardly remained on his own except when Jin Zixun felt like bullying him. It's even more surprising that the friends he made are Wei Wuxian and Jiang Wanyin, who could have anyone they like as playmates. As they leave, the two boys bow to Lan Xichen and tease Nie Huaisang who takes it well and jokes back.

“I'm glad you're making friends,” Lan Xichen states as they walk back to his house together. “Or did you know them before they came here?”

Nie Huaisang hesitates, then shrugs.

“Your uncle says that we have to spend an incense stick's time together every week,” he says. “I'll talk to you when it's burning. Not before, not after.”

Lan Xichen flushes in anger, pinches his lips, and says nothing. It's not as if he wants to talk either, of course, but to be so rude about it was unnecessary.

-

Lan Xichen has to oversee a class after his uncle was called elsewhere at the last minutes. The students are told to work in small groups and practice etiquette quietly. Lan Xichen's hopes for studying his own lessons are quickly destroyed when Jin Zixuan says something that apparently annoys Wei Wuxian. It is not an uncommon occurrence, although so far they've luckily never come to blow yet.

They don't this time either.

Seeing them this upset, Nie Huaisang starts poking fun at them, in particular at Wei Wuxian who he starts mirroring with such exaggeration that the other boy soon forgets he was angry and starts laughing along. Jin Zixuan, clumsy but not stupid, simply rejoins his group and avoids anyone who isn't a Jin for the rest of the class.

-

“I'm told you play Go?” Lan Xichen asks during one of their weekly meetings.

Nie Huaisang looks at the incense stick burning nearby and shrugs.

“A little. Not good enough for Lan gongzi, I'm sure.”

“Would you like to try anyway?”

Again, Nie Huaisang glances at the incense, already half consumed.

“There's not enough time.”

Normally, Lan Xichen would get upset that his efforts at friendliness are being rejected again, and he would drop the matter. But with Nie Huaisang so unwilling to chat, those meetings are really more boring than they need to be, and he is actually curious about his fiancé's skill at the game. He's heard that Nie Huaisang can play on equal footing with Jiang Wanyin, whom Lan Xichen had a chance to play against, once, and whose skill surprised him.

“We can start the game now and continue next week. It would be more fun than just drinking tea and waiting for time to pass.”

That argument wins over Nie Huaisang, and they begin playing. Lan Xichen starts confident, but soon realises that what he's heard isn't just idle gossip. Nie Huaisang is a skilled player, forcing him to fight hard for victory.

In the end Lan Xichen loses, but he's not even upset about it. It has been a while since he's played such a thrilling game. And while they don't say it, he knows they're both shocked that they kept playing long after the incense burned down, too taken by the board to pay attention to anything else.

“Let's play again sometimes,” Lan Xichen suggests.

Nie Huaisang seems surprised by his eagerness, or perhaps by the fact that Lan Xichen takes his loss so well. Either way he smiles and nods almost hesitantly. For a brief moment, he looks more like the boy he was last year, shy and uncertain, but he doesn't linger around long enough for Lan Xichen to question it.

-

“Fighting is forbidden in the Cloud Recesses,” Lan Xichen scolds. “If there was a problem, you should have found a senior and asked them to handle the situation.”

Jiang Wanyin grabs his brother's wrist, probably his way to tell him to stay silent. Wei Wuxian pinches his lips but obeys, probably unwilling to add to the punishment he's already receiving with Lan Wangji.

No one is there to control Nie Huaisang though.

“And what would the senior have done?” he asks, glaring at Lan Xichen. “Listened to the bullies' lies before blaming that boy for making people want to tease him? There was nobody around, Lan gongzi, someone had to do something, and it had to be now.”

“Surely there had to be options other than violence,” Lan Xichen retorts.

“We tried talking first,” Jiang Wanyin intervenes. “But they were unwilling to let that boy go and he was crying. I hope Lan gongzi can see why we had to do something.”

“And I hope we won't be the only ones punished,” Nie Huaisang adds. “We can testify that they were taunting him. I think that's against quite a few rules, no?”

“The child says they were just playing,” Lan Xichen retorts, because two can play that game.

“Of course he'd say that. That's why we'll bear witness to what really happened, if it's needed. Gusu Lan believes in rules above all else, but Qinghe Nie will always stand for what's just.”

Lan Xichen glares at Nie Huaisang. It's not his fault if Jin Zixun was never punished for his abuse of others, he wants to say. It's not his fault if Nie Huaisang, like the boy today, was too terrified to stand up and blame his attackers. It's not his fault there were no other witnesses that time, no one but Lan Xichen himself who could so easily have been accused of being biased in favour of his fiancé.

“They will face proper punishment,” he promises. “And so will you. You will copy the rules of Gusu Lan in their entirety, and apologise before Grandmaster Lan for disrupting the peace.”

It's a light enough punishment as all three of them should know, especially after how many times Wei Wuxian has gotten in trouble already, but they still groan and complain. Nie Huaisang bemoans the pain he's sure to fill in his wrist he's sure to feel, until Wei Wuxian starts teasing him about something and they nearly get into a playful argument. Jiang Wanyin wisely stands to the side, rolling his eyes and trying not to smile.

Lan Xichen has to order them to calm down, but they still exchange amused glances after.

-

A few times, Lan Xichen catches glimpses of Nie Huaisang spending time with a young Lan boy. Usually they are just walking together and chatting, but once or twice, if the weather allows, they play Go in front of the Qinghe Nie cabin.

After been shown such favour by an older boy from a prestigious clan, that boy never gets bullied again. He shows his gratefulness by sometimes letting other children tag along with him now, other boys who startle too easily at the sight of older teenagers. Sometimes, he takes them to play with Nie Huaisang, who in returns brings along Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng.

When he hears about that, Lan Xichen feels something gnawing at his heart. It's an almost painful sensation, but it might not be a bad one.

-

Lan Xichen wakes up with a slight headache, and memories of a hand in his, of gentle words, of being kindly led to safety.

It doesn't mean anything, he tells himself as he lays in bed. They were in a viper's nest, they had already agreed to stand together and give the image of a united front so the Wens would know the alliance between Qinghe Nie and Gusu Lan is a strong one.

And still, that hand in his own, so warm.

There could have been other ways for Nie Huaisang to take him back to his uncle after he was made to drink, but he took his hand, a hand Lan Xichen now stares at, trying to call back the ghost of that touch.

It doesn't mean anything that Nie Huaisang took his hand, Lan Xichen knows that. It must just have been the most convenient option, and one that would further the impression of good feelings between them to the prying eyes of their enemies.

It doesn't mean anything.

Lan Xichen wants it to have meant something.

He wants everything that happened yesterday at Wen Chao's wedding to have meant something. He wants for Nie Huaisang to really smile at him this easily, to chat with him like they get along, to really be able to trust him, to take his hand not only out of necessity but because it is pleasant to both of them.

Lan Xichen sighs and closes his eyes again.

It had been inconvenient to realise that Nie Huaisang was, for lack of a better word, attractive, but this... this is much worse.

Lan Xichen sighs again, and curses himself for feeling this too late, when he has already ruined everything.

[jawritter]

The Arrangement

Part 9

Summery: You are a young girl that was raised in a small church in Dallas, TX. One of the only churches left in the state that still practices arranged marriages. When your betrothed ran off to California you thought you'd escape the fate you were trained for ever since a small child. Now upon the death your parents your fate seemed to be inescapable as he's returned, and is ready to take you as his bride.

Book Warnings: Arranged marriage, loss of virginity, smut, unprotected sex, angst, language, suicide attempt, battles with anxiety, struggles with mental illness, age gap (about 11 years), I think that’s it, chapters will have warnings of their own!

Chapter Warnings: Angst, Jared is an asshole in this fic, but He has his reasons, language, insecure reader, sheltered reader, scared reader, protective Jensen, I think that’s pretty much it.

Word Count: 3106

A/N: This book is a book about Christian and church based arranged marriages, I would like to take this moment to say that I DO NOT have ANYTHING against the Chirstian faith, and mean absolutely no harm to anyone! Especially Jensen’s family! This is a complete work of fiction, and should be treated as such!

Beta’d by the amazing @deanwanddamons who was awesome enough to do all this for me! It was a lot of work, and she deserves all the praise for it!!

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Want More? Check Out My Masterlist!!

***MASTERLIST***

***SERIES MASTERLIST***

It was a quiet ride over to Jared's house. 

Even though it wasn't that far from where Jensen and yourself were staying, it seemed like the drive over took forever, and then didn't last long enough all at the same time. Your stomach did nervous flips the whole way there, and your mind traveled to the worst scenario over and over again.

What if Jensen's friends hated you? What if it angered Jensen that they didn't accept you? What if he wanted to take you back to Dallas because you weren't good enough to fit into his lifestyle?

You didn't know how to do this. You didn't know how to function outside of the church world that you grew up in  with your family.This was all new to you. So far Jensen had been more patient with you than you expected him to ever be, but you didn’t   know how much more slack he was willing to grant you. 

He had only tried to have sex with you once  since you where married, which made you think he must not have been that impressed with you. 

Sure, the day after your wedding night, he’d taken a shower with you, and his hands weren’t shy about wandering, but he said he didn’t want to hurt you, because he knew you had to be sore.

Then there was your little interruption this morning, effectively putting a halt into your extracurricular activities. 

Other than that, he’d not really shown any interest in touching that way, aside from cuddling.

Needless to say, you had a whole lot of insecurities going on right now.  Anxiety that Jensen didn't  know that you fought against gnawing away at the corners of your consciousness. You focused on breathing as you stared at the scenery flying by you out of the car window. 

Austin wasn't quite as big as Dallas, but it was much more appealing. It was livelier almost, less businesslike. It had  its own little personality centered around art and a culture that fascinated you. 

Turning off the main road, Jensen began to make his way up the long driveway that would inevitably lead you to the front of Jared's house. Closing your eyes you started to count backwards, and focus more on your breathing to calm you down . You hadn't noticed that your hands were visibly trembling, but Jensen had. 

Reaching over from the driver's seat, he grabbed one of your hands that you had folded in your lap and squeezed it, making your eyes snap open. He'd stopped the car in front of a large, beautiful house with a well manicured lawn, and grounds surrounding it. 

"Hey, everything okay? Are you feeling okay?" he asked, eyes searching you. 

He looked genuinely worried about you, but you couldn't trouble him with your anxiety issues, so you shoved it down even though you felt that familiar feeling of the tightening in your chest, and smiled at him. 

"Yeah. Just nervous." you tell him. 

Pulling you as close to him as he could in the car, he pecks you on the check, causing a blush to rise up to where his lips had just been, and sending a warm feeling all the way through your body, effectively driving away some of the anxiety and fear. 

"Everything is going to be just fine. We don't have to be here long, they just want to meet you. They're a little worried about me. I divorced Danneel and then appeared with you. That's not exactly something normal people do, you know." 

You nodded your head and didn't say a word. That's what you were worried about. You'd been so secluded for so long that you really didn't know how to act like 'normal' people, or at least normal as they classified it. 

Jensen opened his mouth to say something else, when a hand reached up and knocked on the driver side window making you both jump. 

"Jared, you scared the shit out of me." Jensen yelled, jerking the door open, and looking up at the extremely tall man with long hair and a beard oddly resembling Jesus.

Jensen walked around the car as you opened the door, and took your hand as you got out of it, shutting the door for you as the tall man approached the car.

"Jared, this is my wife,Y/N. Y/N, this is my best friend Jared, and that little woman hiding behind him over there is his wife Gen." 

"Hi", was all you could manage in a quiet voice, looking down at the ground more than making eye contact with either of the two people in front of you. You wanted desperately to hide behind Jensen’s tall form, but you knew that wouldn’t be exactly acceptable behavior, and you didn’t want to make your husband look bad. 

"Hi Y/N, It's nice to finally meet you!!" Gen said, running up and pulling you into a hug you didn't expect, but returned after a moment. Jared only nodded at you, then turned the conversation back to Jensen that you didn’t  hear. Your nerves were too high to pay that much attention, but you were pretty sure they were talking about a car of some sort that Jensen was supposed to be getting.

"So, are you guys going to stick around for dinner tonight? It should be ready in about thirty minutes! We're having enchiladas Jensen!!" Gen said, bouncing over to him, throwing her arm and round his neck like they'd always known each other. 

You'd be a liar if you said you didn't feel more than a little bit out of place, and you weren’t sure how you felt about this stranger , just running up to Jensen and throwing her arms around his neck. You were always taught to keep your distance from married men.

"Sure, how can I turn down free food." Jensen said, giving Gen a wink, and a pang of jealousy slapped you right in the gut when he did so. She seemed totally unaffected by his actions, smacking him in his chest with her hand before walking off into the house.

"Where are the kids?" Jensen asked Jared who was watching you closely, but still hadn't addressed you directly. 

"They are with my parents for the weekend. Why don't you guys come inside?" he said, leading the way into the large, very well and tastefully decorated house. 

As you followed the men into the sitting room, your fingers laced with Jensen's, staying as close to him as possible, but keeping quiet and your head down. 

You both sat down on the little leather loveseat in the room across from the couch that Jared sat down on. Jensen pulled you close to him and wrapped your arm tightly around you.

Gen appeared with a tray of beers and a bottle of wine with two glasses on it, putting it down on the table, and pouring wine into the two empty glasses handing you one before the boys could grab a beer.

"So,Y/N., Why don't you tell us a little bit about yourself?" Jared said a little louder than he had to in the small space, making you look up from the glass in your hand at the man sitting across from you as Gen took a seat next to him.

"There's not a whole lot to tell." you tell him in a quiet voice, and that wasn't a lie. Your whole life has revolved around the church, and your family. You had neither anymore. Jensen had moved you to Austin, so the church was out, and you lost your family.

"Oh come on. There's got to be something. Hobbies, interests? The reason why you jumped up and agreed to  marry a man that's 11 years your senior?" he said, a little sharply. 

You looked at Jensen a little panicked, and Gen grabbed Jared's arm, giving him a stern look. 

Jensen pulled you tighter into his hold, before looking over at his friend. 

"Y/N wasn't raised like you were Jared. She doesn't quite know how to respond to your question, or your demeanor for that matter." 

He took your wine glass from your hand that you had yet to take a drink from, and sat it on the coffee table in front of you.

"Y/N and I were in the same church. We were supposed to be married when she turned 18. By the time she turned 18, I was already in California, and had left the church. She doesn't know life outside of that place, and her family. She doesn't understand speaking so directly to her unless you are  her father, husband, or pastor. She doesn't drink.She has grown up highly sheltered. I'm not saying that, that is right; though I am asking you to mind your tone of voice with my wife. She's still learning and adjusting to life away from that place, and I expect you to treat her with the same respect as you show me, as well as being a little patient."

Jared looked down at this lap for a moment like a scolded child. Jensen definitely had the whole alpha male personality that other men seemed to pick up on right away. You didn't know if it was the deep tone in his voice, or that even though he was thin he was solid. His broad chest and shoulders made him look like a force to be reckoned with, and if he wanted to, he could hurt someone. 

"I'm sorry.I'm just worried about you man, you know that." Jared said, directly addressing Jensen now. 

"Like I told you on the phone, there is no need to be worried. Y/N didn't come looking for me to take advantage of my money, or become famous. I went looking for her after I found out what Danneel did to me. I wanted to do what I should have done all those years ago, and marry the woman I was meant to marry, so that's what I did. If you don't want to understand that, or have a problem with it, that’s your own affair, but you will not take your misunderstood feelings out on my wife Jared, I won't allow it. Respect my wife as you do me, and if you call yourself my friend, you will respect my decisions." 

Jared shook his head, glancing between you and Jensen. Gen was watching you closely not saying a word. 

"I'm sure the food is almost done. Y/N, would you like to come help me make up a salad and get the plates ready?" 

You definitely wanted an excuse to get away from Jared, and out of the tense atmosphere. Cooking and place setting was something you could do, and knew how to do it well, so you looked up and Jensen for permission. 

He nodded his head to you, and loosened his grip on your shoulders as Gen stood, and you followed her into the expansive kitchen, grateful to be away from the tenseness of the room you were just sitting in.

Jensen's POV:

"The fuck is wrong with you? Why did you attack her like that? She has said nothing to you, nor has she done anything to you.There's no reason for you to be so harsh towards her." Jensen said, taking down the rest of his beer in one swig.

"Sorry Jay, I just don't trust her. Her family probably just sent her here to milk...."

Jensen threw his hand up to stop Jared in his tracks.

"Jared!! That's enough! Her families dead. They died two days before I went to claim her. This was my choice, my idea. I chose her. She has never done anything wrong, she's not a gold digger, and I would appreciate it if you would stop being a dick."

Jared looked over at his friend coldy, taking a deep breath, trying to keep his temper under control. 

"Jensen. Do you even have a 'real' marriage with that woman? I mean you say she's been sheltered and all that shit. I mean she probably can't even fu..." 

Jensen got to his feet, knowing where this conversation was going, and it was quickly pissing him off. He had heard all of the shit he could stomach. He thought Jared was his brother, his best friend, why was he being so hateful to Y/N when she'd never done a single thing to him?

"To answer your question, that really is none of your business. She's perfectly capable of performing in a satisfactory manner as far as a physical marriage is concerned. She and I have consummated our marriage if you must know. She's just as much my wife as Gen is yours.”

Jensen shoved his hands through his hair harshly before reaching down, and grabbing his phone from the coffee table where he’d sat it a few moments ago. 

“I've had enough of this. I'm getting my wife and going home."

Before Jared could stand to stop him, Gen poked her head around the door. 

"Okay boys, dinners ready!"

"Okay” they said in unison. 

Jensen turned to look at Jared, giving him a death glare. 

"One word out of line towards my wife, and we're leaving, do you understand me?" Jensen said. Jared looked down at the ground like a scolded child, knowing he'd overstepped his boundaries, and it was going to take quite a bit of making up to Jensen before he’d forgive me. He was just worried about his friends well being. This was all very strange to Jared. 

Your POV:

You were standing at the counter, putting the finishing touches on the salad you'd been busy making since you entered the kitchen, grateful for something to do with your hands to keep yourself busy. Placing the utensils into the salad bowl, you passed the bowl to Gen as she reentered the kitchen with you, leading the way into the dinning room.

"The boys are headed into the dinning room." she said, over her shoulder. 

She seemed like a nice person, someone you would probably be able to make friends with. Her husband on the other hand, hated you and that made your chest ache a little. 

You were shocked when Jensen had stood up for you before Gen brought you into the kitchen to help her prepare the rest of the food and set the table. 

You expected him to side with the other man in the room, though you didn't know what Jared may have convinced him about you when you were away in the kitchen just now, and it made you nervous, the fact that Jared may have made Jensen see his side of things, making Jensen want to take you back to Dallas. 

Jared and Jensen were sitting down in their chairs as you and Gen entered the room, sitting the salad down on the table. 

"Okay everyone dig in!!" she said, taking her seat next to Jared. 

You found it odd that Jensen and Jared grabbed empty plates, and started to fix their own food. You were always raised in the custom that the wives fixed the men's plates first. Then the children, then themselves. Though there were no children here tonight, it was odd to watch them fix their own food. 

Grabbing a plate of your own, you fixed a very small portion of food onto your plate, mimicking Jensen's. He had barely put any food on his plate , and seemed very tense when you took your seat next to him. It seemed he was ready to go, and didn’t want to hang around much longer, which you couldn't help but hope you were right on that account. 

Two hours later everyone had ate, and the kitchen was cleaned up between yourself and Gen. She was pretty easy to talk to, and seemed to know her way around the kitchen. Jensen and Jared stayed sitting at the table, talking tensely about Jared's new role that he'd picked up that was due to film in Austin. 

They were sitting silently when you reentered the dining room.Jensen looked up at you hopefully, and then back at Jared.

"Well, it's getting late, we need to get going. Gen dinner was great, thanks for everything." 

Before either of them could really respond to him Jensen had grabbed your hand, and started making his way toward the door. 

"Well it was nice to meet you Y/N! Let's get together, and get our nails done some time or something." she said as you reached the porch with Jensen, his hand wrapped tightly around yours. You just smiled and nodded at her, not knowing if Jensen would be okay with that or not. 

Once you had reached the car, Jensen opened the door for you, and you slid inside. You were so glad for that to be over. You could tell that didn't go as planned for Jensen. He was hoping Jared would have accepted you, and for some reason he obviously did not. 

Once he was back on the main highway headed toward home, he looked over at you and took your hand once again in his. 

"You okay, sweetheart?" 

"Yeah, I’m okay, I'm sorry your friend doesn't like me." you said quietly, looking down, ashamed into your lap, hoping and praying that Jensen wasn't too angry with you.

"Don't worry about him, he will get used to you. This is just all new to him." 

Picking your hand up to his lips, he kissed the back of your hand lightly, eyes still focused on the road, and his shoulders tense.

"Let's get you home, get showered, and crawl into our bed and die for the night. It's been a long day." Jensen said, suppressing a yawn. You didn't realize how long you had been at Jared's; it was almost midnight, the streets in Austin much calmer from lack of traffic. 

Relief  flooded you as you looked back out the window, watching the lights of the city speed by you in a blur against the dark sky. He wasn't going to send you away after all, or at least he didn’t seem so angry that he didn’t want to sleep in the same bed as you, so maybe you didn’t mess this up to bad.

Exhaustion hit you like a freight train the closer you got to home. It has been a stressful day for you. Tomorrow you would try harder to be a better wife for Jensen. He deserved so much more than you'd been giving him, and you were determined to make him happy.

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