#it’s rather terrifying but we just have to keep being alive until someone or something decides it’s enough

[runawrites-blog]

Until The Break Of Dawn Ch. 7 (Josh Washington x Reader)

Summary: You plan on making your escape with your friends but it's not easy. (Female Reader) Warnings: Talk of Mental Health. Grief. Reader has to let go of the last gift her father gave her. Fire. Wendigos. Specific warnings will be posted in the notes of each chapter. No Y/N, Petnames (Honey) Author's Note: You can find the previous chapter here. Crossposted on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49644949/chapters/125305714#workskin

“It’s not much further.”

Josh kept his hand securely around yours, nodding along to your words and still trying to warm you up as he mumbled reassurances to you, though you wondered whether or not he was saying these things to also encourage himself. The wind was still howling around the mountain as you made your way down a rather steep slope that would lead you into a small ravine and then up onto a trail once you’d exited that ravine on the other side. He’d proclaimed that it was much quicker than going all the way around the ravine.

You were freezing, despite Josh’s best efforts to keep you warm by periodically wrapping his arm around your shoulders to rub them, in pain from the deep scratches on your arm and flinching at every noise you heard. But you had to keep going. There was no time to be scared when your life and the lives of your loved ones were on the line -- you’d learned that the hard way years ago. And though you tried your hardest to keep strong Josh seemed to notice something was off, his eyes flicking to your face every once and again to check on you. He had been mumbling to himself about the mines for a while now but once he’d seen your state, he’d quieted down, now looking more concerned than anything.

“You look scared.”

“I’m fine, Josh.” You assured him as you watched him go down the last bit of the slope before helping you down after him. “How are you?”

“Terrified and horrified.” He nodded and pulled you closer again once you’d gotten to the bottom of the ravine. “I just-- Being with someone else, especially you, is helping a lot and-- and I know we’ll be back to safety soon.”

“That’s good to hear.” You whispered back as you kept walking. “Josh, what happened to your sisters down there was not your fault, you know that, right?”

“Logically, I know that the prank played on them and-- and what happened in those mines wasn’t my fault but-- but it’s still hard to remind myself of that sometimes.” He explained as you passed through a thicket of trees. “Thank you for always being there for me.”

“Right back at you, Sweetheart.”

“Are you sure you’re fine? You must be scared.”

“We need to keep going.”

Before Josh could answer there were noises coming your way and you both backed away in fear. Josh tried to shove you behind himself to protect you but you wanted to keep him safe so you grabbed a nearby branch and readied yourself to fight. But your fear turned to absolute joy when Matt and Jess emerged from the treeline. Immediately, you ran to embrace Jessica, hugging her tightly as she wrapped her arms around you.

“You’re alive! You can’t imagine how worried I was.” You squeezed her a little tighter as you spoke. “I’m so fucking sorry I left you.”

“No, no, it’s alright. You-- You lured it away from me and probably saved me. I’m just so-- I’m so glad that you are alright.”

“I’m so glad that you are alright, Jess.” You said and pulled back to look at Matt. “Are you alright? Emily said the radio tower fell and you jumped to get to safety. Did you get hurt?”

Matt nodded his head, a guilty expression on his face. “Is she angry that I left?”

“She seemed upset but I’m sure after everything that happened she’ll just be relieved to see that you’re alive.”

Josh grabbed onto your arm and made you look at him. “We have to get to the cable car, Honey. Let’s go.”

“Can you two walk?” You asked Matt and Jess, smiling in relief when they nodded. “Then let’s get going.”

Jess gave Matt a worried expression to which he simply extended his arm to her. She quickly grabbed it and clung to it tightly as you all set out. Josh’s hand found its way to your back as he guided you along the ravine and toward the ascend you’d have to get up to get onto one of the main trails.

You had just begun ascending the small hill when you heard a screeching sound from behind you. Fear immediately gripped ahold of you and you felt your eyes tear up at the realization that those creatures had once more ventured out of the mines, that you weren’t even safe outside that horrid place. Jess's fearful whimpers and Josh’s hand grabbing yours stopped you from spiraling into those helpless thoughts. You could still outrun these creatures and help your friends. Matt looked around to see where the creature was coming from, bringing an arm up to shield Jess. It was Josh who saw where the Wendigo was and when he did he grabbed your arm, pulling you up the ascend after him. Matt and Jess quickly followed as the creature took chase.

“The guest cabin is just up ahead! We can hide in there!”

Josh didn’t give you time to question his suggestion and simply shoved you inside, waiting for Matt and Jess to follow before he slammed the door shut. However, the window on the door was broken and the Wendigo quickly took the opportunity to try and get inside. Jess screamed in fear as she grabbed Matt by the arm to pull him toward the bathroom and you followed her quickly, Josh right behind you. Once in the bathroom, you slammed the door shut. The Wendigo was not deterred by the closed door and kept trying to break it down, scratching at it and rattling it. Jess was covering her ears and Matt was crowding her away from the door, staring at it in horror. You grabbed for Josh’s arm, fear overtaking you as he realized that now you couldn’t even run away anymore, that you were trapped. Josh felt your nails digging into his biceps and eyed you in worry, still keeping his head turned toward the door.

“Are you alright, Honey?”

But you didn’t answer as the true hopelessness of the situation sank into you. You were trapped, locked in a small cabin out on the mountain with a Wendigo trying to break down the door. There was nowhere to run and no way to make it to the people who depended on you to get them the key. The hopelessness brought with it panic and you heard your breath hitch before you even realized you were crying, tears running down your cheeks. Josh called out your name once more but the only reply he got was your broken sobs, all the fear you’d been feeling pouring out of you in the form of tears.

Josh reacted immediately and pulled you into his arms, a hand coming up to cradle the back of your head and allow you to bury your face at his shoulder. You quickly embraced him back, fingers digging into his back as you held onto him.

“I’m so scared, Josh.” You got out between your sobs, voice shaking with emotion. “We’re trapped and I’m so fucking scared. I’ve been so terrified all-- all night and I just-- I can’t keep it together, I’m so sorry. I should be there for you and-- and get us off this mountain but I am just so scared.”

“There is nothing to apologize for.” He soothed, leaning his cheek against your head as he kept his eyes fixed on the door. “It’s absolutely normal to be scared in a fucked up situation like this. You’re allowed to feel scared and you can still be there for me.”

“I’m scared, too.” Jess spoke up from where she was half-hidden behind Matt. “But we’re all in the same boat, so we will keep each other safe. I promise that-- that we won’t leave you behind.”

“No one gets left behind.” Matt said, keeping his eyes locked on the door as the Wendigo clawed at it. “We’re all smart people and we’ll figure something out.”

“How will I get us to safety when I’m this scared?”

“You won’t have to do anything alone. We’ll get off this mountain together.” Josh promised, keeping an eye on the door and frowning when you winced at the Wendigo’s attempts to get inside. “You don’t have to do everything alone. I will keep you safe.”

You took a shuddering breath at his words and slowly pulled back to look at him, watching as pain crossed his features at seeing how scared you looked. But he just reached up to cradle your face in his hands.

“We will get off this mountain, I promise.”

“Thank you, Josh.” You whispered, reaching up to wipe your tears away, feeling a lot better though your fingers still shook and you still felt heavy with fear. “Thank you, Jess and Matt.”

Matt looked back at you. “We will figure something out.”

“But how do we get out of here?”

“There’s windows in there.” Jess commented, pointing her thumb at the broken window behind her. “But it’s too narrow for us to fit.”

Matt nodded, concern clear on his face. “But we can’t go through the door, either.”

“When Mike and I went through the Sanatorium, he used fire to chase the Wendigos away.” You recollected and reached into your pocket to once more pull out your lighter. “But I doubt a small lighter could scare it off.”

“Not on its own but we can combine it with this.”

You all turned to Josh to find him holding a can of deodorant he’d taken out from the cabinet under the sink. His relieved smile gave you hope that you might actually make it to the cable car and get off this mountain. He held out his hand and you tossed him the lighter, watching as he readied himself to use it and the spray can as a makeshift flame thrower.

“So what’s the plan here?”

Jess turned to Matt. “We use the deodorant and lighter to scare it off, so we can make a run for it.”

“Then I say we ready ourselves to run once Josh has scared it off.”

Josh nodded and lit the lighter, readying the spray can and placing a finger on its button. Matt stepped forward and grabbed the handle to the door, taking a deep breath before he gently shoved Jess to the side, out of the way of the action. Then he gave Josh an inquisitive glance, silently asking whether or not he was ready. Josh took a step to the side, situating himself between you and the door, making sure that you were covered. Then he gave Matt a small nod.

As soon as Matt opened the door the Wendigo tried to get inside but Josh was faster, pressing the button on the spray can and sending a gust of fire straight at the creature. The Wendigo retreated at the fire and Josh stepped after it, keeping up his assault on the creature until it was in the hallway. The rest of you followed him and then he turned, crowding the Wendigo back into the bathroom before slamming the door shut. You, Matt, and Jess quickly took the initiative to move the dresser that stood in the hallway in front of the door and Josh handed the lighter back to you.

“Will it get back out?” Jess asked in uncertainty, grabbing for Matt’s arm as the Wendigo tried to get out through the door. “Can it fit through the window?”

“It might take a while for it to get back out.” Matt said and grabbed Jess by the wrist, gently pulling her after him. “We better get going.”

“We can’t just leave it in there.” You looked at the blocked door. “We need to do something to make sure it won’t follow us.”

Josh gestured around himself. “This whole thing is made out of wood. We could light it up and make a run for it.”

“You want to light your family’s guest cabin up?”

“We rarely stayed here and I doubt I’ll ever want to come back up here, anyway.”

Jess looked at you with a hopeful smile. “There’s a bottle of chimney lighter next to the fireplace. Maybe we can use that to help start the fire. We can use your lighter.”

“What are we waiting for?” Matt nodded in agreement. “I’ll get the chimney lighter.”

You took out the lighter while Matt ran, holding it in your hand and looking at it for a second. For years you had carried the lighter around, the last gift your father had ever had the chance to give you, the present he had hoped to use together with you. If you threw it into the cabin, into the chimney lighter, you wouldn’t be able to get it back. Slowly, you stroked a thumb over the silver surface, running it across where your name was carved into it.

“I’m back.” Matt proclaimed, opening the bottle and dozing the floor in front of the bathroom door in the fluid. “Get ready.”

Squeezing the lighter in your hands you took a deep breath, mentally reminding yourself that doing this was important for your survival. But the thought of parting from a sentimental item your late father had gifted you made your eyes tear up. Josh gave you a worried glance as he saw you clench the lighter and placed a hand on your closed fist.

“Honey, I know letting go of the lighter is hard and I understand that it’s painful.” Josh whispered, getting closer to you. “So if you want me to do it for you, I will.”

“No, I’ll be fine.”

Jess looked at you in confusion. “What’s so special about it?”

“Her father gave it to her before he disappeared. It was meant for family camping trips and teaching her how to light a campfire.” Josh explained, squeezing your hand. “It has sentimental value.”

“It’s ridiculous, I know.”

“It’s not.” Matt shook his head, frowning sadly. “I really get that it’s hard but it’s the only thing that will stop this creature from following us.”

“I know.” You took a shaky breath, looking at Josh with a thankful smile. “Thank you for the offer but I think I want to be the one to toss it into the fluid.”

Josh nodded and took your free hand. “You will always have your memories of him.”

You nodded at his words, knowing that he was right about that. Amongst your memories, you had photographs of him, other sentimental items, past gifts and so much more to remember your father by. So after waiting for Jess and Matt to move away from the door you uncurled your fist and took a deep breath. You brought the lighter to your lips, pressing a small kiss to it and thanking your father.

“Thank you, Dad, for once again saving me. I love you.”

Then you lit it and tossed it into the fluid, watching as the fire quickly prickled along the door. Knowing that the cabin would burn and the Wendigo wouldn’t be able to follow you, you all quickly fled the building. The three of you wasted no time heading for the cable car, running down the trails as fast as you could without slipping. Screeches echoed around you but you kept going, Josh keeping your hand firmly in his and pulling you along while Matt ushered Jess down the trail. When the cable car came into view you all rejoiced but your joy was short-lived before suddenly there was movement in the bushes ahead of you. Jess quietly urged you all to stay still, proclaiming that based on her observations in the mines the Wendigos would not see you if you didn’t move, and you grabbed Josh’s shoulder to steady him. With bated breath, you listened to the noise coming closer, hopeful that standing still would be enough to get whatever was in the undergrowth off your trail.

“You’re alive!”

You almost screamed in shock when Mike came out of the bush, looking at the three of you before pulling Jess into his arms, and holding her tight. She clung to him, breathing a shaky sigh of relief. And Mike wasn’t alone. Your other friends were with him, coming out of the bushes, stepping from a little beaten path onto the main trail. You felt tears of relief sting your eyes as you saw that were all alive. They were battered, bruised, and scared but they were alive. But there was no time for reunions because Sam quickly started ushering all of you down the path again.

“We need to get moving and get off this mountain!”

Now reunited, you all made your way to the cable car station, quickly getting inside and slamming the door shut behind you. Josh immediately put in the key, turning it and setting the cables into motion. The mechanical whirring was loud in the quiet night and you worried that one of the creatures would hear it. Josh saw how scared you looked and quickly pulled you close to him in the hopes of comforting you. Chris watched the two of you before he sighed softly.

“Josh, I’m sorry for leaving you in the barn. We should have never tied you up in there, let alone leave you alone.”

“It’s fine. I kind of-- I mean, I deserve it after what I did.”

“No, what you did was really fucked up but we-- we were supposed to be your friends, I was supposed to be your best friend, and you-- you needed us and we weren’t there for you.”

Josh shook his head again. “I really fucked up and I’m sorry. I just-- Fuck, you all came just to be there for me and I fucked everything up. We almost died because of me!”

Ashley piped up, giving him a soft smile. “Josh, this whole Wendigo situation is not your fault. You played a fucked up prank and-- and it will take some time for me to really-- to just trust you again. But the mines, the Wendigos, all of that, it was not your fault.”

“She’s right.” Mike said, making Josh turn to him in surprise. “Your girlfriend and I had a long talk on our way to the mines and it made me-- it made me come to the same conclusion as Ash. Your prank was fucked up but everything else that happened was really not your fault.”

“You weren’t the one that dragged me out of the cabin and into the mines.” Jess reasoned, sighing a little. “The practical pranks and all that stuff to scare us were stupid but you’re not the one that hurt me.”

“I’m not?”

“You’re the one that saved me back in the cabin.”

“Em and I were terrified when we thought there was a killer on the mountain.” Matt mumbled, leaning back against the console. “But it was nothing compared to what I felt when-- when these creatures followed us and-- and hunted me.”

Emily nodded and crossed her arms. “I mean without your dumb prank we wouldn’t have gone to the radio tower but it falling into the mines was not on you. I just-- It might take a bit for us to forgive you but we don’t blame you for all that happened.”

“Everyone will forgive you eventually. Some of us might just need a bit more time than others.” Chris promised, placing a hand on Josh’s shoulder. “But until then, we’ll still be there for you if you need us.”

“If you need anything, I will-- You just have to ask me if there’s anything I can do to help you. And not because I want to-- to urge you into forgiving me but because-- because I am so fucking sorry.”

“You could pay for the therapy we will no doubt need after this.” Emily said in sarcasm, making everyone go quiet. “What? You think we won’t need professional help after nearly being killed multiple times that night?”

Sam gave a dry chuckle, turning to Josh. “As long as the therapist we see isn’t Doctor Hill because I think he has not been helping you.”

“I think I should go somewhere else to, you know, get a second opinion or something.”

Before anyone could answer a loud metallic clang startled everyone as the cable car stopped inside the station. Mike quickly opened the door before turning back to Josh with a questioning look.

“It looks pretty small. We can probably all cram inside but can it carry all of us?”

“Yes, it can totally carry all of us down the mountain.”

Mike looked back at Matt in question. “You’re the most athletic one in the group. Do you think you’ll manage to turn the key to get the cable car moving and then jump inside? Chris and I will catch you.”

“Of course.” Matt nodded and turned to Emily who was watching him in worry. “You get inside and I’ll be right behind you.”

“Not that I doubt your abilities but do you think you won’t get hurt?”

“There’s no other thing to do, really. Someone has to turn the key.”

Emily was quiet for a few seconds, worrying her bottom lip as she looked up at her boyfriend before nodding. “Be careful, please.”

“I will. Now everyone get inside.”

Mike helped Jess inside and sat down with her while Ashley and Chris climbed in after them. The former sat down next to Jess and took Chris’ hand as soon as he was in the seat beside her. Sam ushered Emily inside who was still reluctant about the whole idea of Matt jumping into the cable car after turning the key. After they were inside, you helped Josh into the car, his movements apprehensive and uncertain. You guided him onto the bench and sat down next to him.

As you squeezed Josh’s hand Mike and Chris got to the door to catch Matt. He gave them a thumbs up and went to turn the key before sprinting for the cable car and jumping, just about making it before the car was too far from the ledge to get inside. Chris and Mike caught him by the arms before slamming the door shut. Emily was up in an instant to embrace Matt.

The car started to descend the mountain, leaving the cover of the station and everyone seemed to finally relax. Ashley let her head fall onto Chris’ shoulder, closing her eyes and he breathed a long sigh of relief. Next to them, Jess began to cry quietly and Mike rushed to her side to embrace her. Matt and Emily had not parted from their embrace but their shoulders relaxed visibly while Sam took a deep breath, letting her head fall against the door of the cable car as she gave you a small smile. You smiled back at her before turning to look at Josh.

But he wasn’t looking at you or anyone else. He was staring out the window of the cable car, mouth agape in horror and tears brimming at his eyes. You turned on the bench to face him, quickly inquiring what was wrong and his voice shook when he answered, tight with unushered tears.

“The lodge is on fire.”

Your head turned the second Josh spoke those words and you watched the immense fire on top of the mountain in shock. Everyone else had gone quiet and when you looked back at Josh you found him staring at the fire in despair, tears running down his cheeks.

“It’s all gone. All the memories of-- of Hannah and Beth, of our childhood are all gone.”

Gently, you placed a hand on Josh’s cheek but he wasn’t looking at you. He was averting his eyes onto anything other than you and that was a telltale sign that he was not doing good. You really couldn’t blame him but that didn’t stop your concern for his wellbeing. It was the tears running down his cheeks that made you draw him into your arms and he sobbed brokenly as you held him and let him cry.

To your surprise Ashley moved from her seat and over to the two of you to also wrap her arms around Josh and after her Chris quickly spurred into motion, coming out of his shock at seeing his friend break down to also embrace him. You gave them a thankful smile, tears in your eyes at how painful it was to watch Josh like this but touched by his friends’ care. Emily, Matt, and Mike kept their distance, not saying anything as they watched Josh cry while Jess placed a comforting hand on his forearm, the only place she could reach with how tightly he was being held. Sam did her best to place a grounding hand on Josh’s shoulder though it was hard to even reach him in between everyone else.

“We had no choice, Josh. I’m really sorry.” Sam whispered apologetically. “There were so many Wendigos in the lodge and we-- we had to make sure they weren’t coming after us.”

“Josh, I am so sorry.” You whispered, holding him impossibly tight. “The lodge may be gone but your memories aren’t. You still remember them and your childhood with them, don’t you?”

Josh nodded, drawing in a shaky breath as he tried to stifle his tears. “I do. I just can’t believe that-- that the lodge is gone. It’s the last place I ever saw them .”

“Josh, we’re so sorry.” Mike said mournfully, voice tight with emotion. “But your girlfriend is right. The lodge is just-- just a material memory but you have so many more memories of-- of the twins to think back on.”

Chris leaned closer, making sure his friend was listening to him as he spoke. “They loved you a lot, Josh.”

He nodded once again at those words and slowly pulled back, his eyes still teary but now focusing on yours again as he took a deep breath. “Thank you for being there for me after everything I’ve done -- all of you.”

“We will always be there for you.”

Loud mechanical whirring made you all look up and to your great relief, you realized that you were almost at the cable car station at the bottom of the mountain. Your friends all looked just as relieved as you did and readied themselves to get out of the cable car. Slowly, you reached for Josh’s hand and he squeezed yours. When you looked at him he was giving you a small relieved smile and you couldn’t help but return that smile, knowing that against your worst fears, you had all gotten a happy ending and escaped.

“We are finally safe.”

[lostbetweenvampiresandmusic]

You're in the hospital part 2 (Paul x f!reader)

Part 1 (summary of part 1 is down here)

After waking up and finding you gone, Paul learns that you've been held hostage, injured and that you are now at the hospital.

________________________________

The beeping was probably what bothered you the most, never ending, high-pitched. You knew it was a necessity. You knew they needed it to make sure you were doing okay. But still - you sighed, turning again.

"Can't sleep?"

Paul had just walked in, being forced to leave earlier when the sun had come up.

"It's the noise," You looked at him, "I swear I'd rather do anything else than to hear that thing beep once more."

"Even listen to David's speech again?"

"Yes."

Paul chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm glad that thing's beeping."

"Why?"

"Because when you weren't home yesterday, and this old lady at the boardwalk told me something about a hostage situation and three people dead, I was terrified you were one of them. Then I got here, and that thing was beeping, and even though I didn't know what exactly happened to you, at least you were still alive."

You were quiet. You hadn't yet realised that the others were dead. Mary, who had tried to safe some customers. Frank, who had immediately given into the demands and given them money. Ashley, who had just started that day, being terrified out of her mind. And even though they had done everything the robbers had asked for, somehow they still didn't do enough. People got killed. Your coworkers - some even friends got killed. And what shocked you most of all, was the decleration that Paul had been terrified. He couldn't be terrified, he wasn't. Not ever. He was always just him, happy and joyful and joking in every situation.

"I didn't want to get hurt... I didn't want to scare you."

"Babe, of course you didn't - fucking hell." He kissed you softly, careful not to touch any of your injuries. "Fuck, you shouldn't feel guilty for scaring me! Absolutely not."

"I had a bad feeling."

Paul looked at you, waiting for you to continue.

"When I woke up. I didn't know why or what would happen, but something in my gut told me I should have stayed home."

"Promise me you'll stay home the next time your gut is screaming at you?"

You smiled softly, nodding. "Pinky promise."

"Good. The others are worried as well by the way."

"Yeah?"

"Marko wanted to come, but David thought it better to let you heal a bit first."

"That's thoughtful."

"Yeah, well, it was mainly because if Marko came, so would Dwayne, and he would take Laddie with him, and then Star had to come as well and then David had to come, and we would all be kicked out of the hospital before we even arrived at your room."

"Why? Would you steal bloodbags? Flirt with the people in the elderly ward? I mean, they're closer to your age I suppose, so I can imagine that happening-"

"Marko definitely would, but you keep forgetting that I don't have eyes for anyone but you."

You giggled, only to immediately cry out.

"Babe?"

"My stomach," You hissed, curling into yourself. "Please, make it stop..."

Paul ran into the hallway and not a minute later a nurse ran in, treating your stomach. "I have to replace the bandages, alright? I can't give you any painmeds until we are done because I need you to be able to react when I check if everything is still stitched up correctly."

"Stitched up? I - what happened here then?" You whimpered.

"The doctor has visited yet?" The nurse looked shocked and then angry on your behalf. "That foolish idiot, I'm so sorry dear, this was not supposed to happen. I'll check your wound and then we'll talk, alright?"

You nodded, trying to stay as still as possible during her treatment, breathing a breath of relief when she gave you some painkillers.

"What happened to her?" Paul asked, having moved next to you on the bed and letting you lean against him.

"What's the last thing you remember?"

"The woman. She held a gun to my face, saying I shouldn't dare to move, and then someone pushed her, I think? I - I don't know anything after. Not really, just screams and bright lights and pain," You said quietly.

"You were shot twice, both times in your stomach," the nurse said, "we were able to get both bullets out and to repair the damage done. You have to stay here for at least another week before we can even talk about letting you go home. We need to make sure that everything is healing up properly and that you're not over exerting yourself. What just happened was you accidentally ripping your stitches. So please be careful, alright?"

"Is there really no way of going home earlier?" Your voice sounded smaller than you had in mind.

"No. We need to be sure you're healthy enough. Even though your fiance will probably do everything he can to assist you, we can't risk you re-injuring yourself. You seem like a lovely lady, but I'd rather not see you in a hospital bed again."

With those words the nurse left, causing you to look at Paul.

"Fiance, hm?"

"It was easier to say that than to explain mates to the clerk."

"No need to apologise, " You yawned, " I quite like the sound of it." You turned a little, careful not to move to much, until you laid comfortably in his lap.

"You're going to sleep?"

You nodded, smiling softly as you felt a blanket being wrapped around you.

"Sleep tight, babe."

________________________

Taglist: @catswonderland

[miracles-and-butterflies]

Pepa and Felix are now in! What would they do first, apologize to Mirabel or discipline Camilo?

Also, I want to see how Dolores smashed Camilo's face

Well…

There isn’t much to say. She just smacked him in the face.

Warning, potentially sensitive topics below.

~~~~~~

The evening settled.

Félix had taken Julieta’s advice, ignoring Camilo entirely for the time being.

While Pepa still was in disbelief and couldn’t make up her mind, so she had retreated to their room to avoid everyone.

Félix had decided to go with Julieta and Agustín when they went to check on Mirabel for a third time since they’d come home. Even though the chances looked she wouldn’t be conscious.

To their surprise, however, she was awake and curled up against Luisa, but not doing great.

Mirabel refused to eat or drink anything, still feeling nauseous. Though Agustín did leave a glass of water for both girls on Luisa’s bedside table.

Julieta had convinced Luisa to step aside for a moment, so that she could have some time with Mirabel.

“She’s been awake for ten minutes. She’s not done much,” Luisa admitted, whispering. “I tried reading to her, but she just cried throughout. She is in a lot of pain.”

“I can imagine,” Agustín said.

“She’s terrified too. She doesn’t want to talk about what happened. I can feel her little heart beating so fast when she’s thinking about it.”

“Rest assured, Camilo will be punished.” Félix replied.

“Good. I refuse to let her go, I’m keeping her with me.”

“Just letting you know now, mija - your sister also wants a day of getting to nurse Mirabel.”

“Isabela!? She can barely keep a stick alive!”

“Luisa, we spoke about this—”

Mirabel made a miserable noise.

“I’m fine. It really isn’t that bad, Mama. In fact, I already feel much improved.” She insisted. She glanced at the book. “Where is Lu? When is she coming back?”

“I’m here,” Luisa called from behind.

Mirabel still found that moving made her very dizzy, hence why she hadn’t moved. But she slowly forced herself to turn her upper body around, facing the other side of the room where Luisa, Agustín and Félix were.

Luisa clambered back onto her bed, adjusting Mirabel more comfortably.

“Sorry. I-I thought you had left.” Mirabel mumbled.

“You don’t need to keep apologising, you haven’t done anything wrong, hermanita.” Luisa said gently. She flickered her gaze among the adults, mouthing, “We can talk later. I’d rather her be comfortable and distracted right now.”

The parents, though tense and unsure, nodded in understanding. They backed away quietly and slowly.

Félix hesitated for a moment before following after them.

Agustín shut the door quietly.

He sighed, “At least she’s awake now.”

“She’s not doing great,” Julieta wrung her hands. “She looks so pale.. I don’t want her going to sleep until she’s drank and eaten something.”

Félix left the couple to it, returning to his and Pepa’s room, where the weather had seemingly calmed a bit since he was last in here.

“I saw Mirabel,” he said.

“What did you say to her? Did you ask about Camilo? What did she say?”

“Very little. I didn’t speak to her. She’s struggling to keep herself from crying out in pain. It was more important to let Julieta speak to her - I didn’t want to stress her.” He took a breath, sitting down on the bed beside his wife, taking her hand. “I know this is a shock, but she’s not okay and Camilo needs to learn what he did was wrong.”

“But he didn’t do anything. I know he didn’t; he wouldn’t. And you heard Agustín.”

“He didn’t put a stop to it either, Pepita.”

Pepa didn’t respond.

The clouds above thundered and darkened.

“I’ll talk to Camilo and give him his punishment. But only after someone does the same to Luisa.” She paused. “Fair is fair.”

[sophieswundergarten]

Guess what it's my blog and we're going to talk about the Waiting Room now.

In the show, it seems rather boring at first glance. However, this is a LIE because they want to throw you off. There's only one chair, and it has a short leg. There's a weird spirograph-type piece of art on the wall. There's a fish tank, for some reason. There's a bunch of very strange shelves. And there's a giant clock on the wall. THIS IS NOT ALL. The normal entry door is invisible due to the paneling, and the back wall MOVES. It is also possible the clock moves to create loss of time and the floor slants, although these might be stress-induced hallucination. It is a perfectly designed horror liminal space, and, depending on who you put in there and why, I'm fairly certain it can be defined as psychological torture. It evokes the same kind of discomfort and lack of control that a convict being placed in solitary confinement experiences.

HOWEVER

In the books, it is entirely different, and arguably worse. Again, depending on the person. In the books, it is a completely dark room full of slimy black mud that isn't thick enough to stand on. It is also a very deep pit of mud, so anyone who enters for a period of time slowly starts sinking. It also has bugs in it.

Now. If you are not the type of person who is terrified of who you are waiting for, or if you are a person who typically enjoys defying the conventional, the show version shouldn't be much of an issue. The chair doesn't work? Find a way to fix it, or sit on the floor. The room is obviously set up so you have to face whoever is going to enter? Face the other direction. Look at the fish. Sit on the really weird and randomly empty shelves. There are many things that can be done physically about what the room is doing to you mentally. It is also easier for the people who are putting you through this ordeal to rationalize. "It's just an oddly decorated waiting room. There's nothing that bad about waiting"

But the book version is another story. One that I have many questions about. One, we learn later on that the mud is created and maintained by the room being connected to an underground stream. (It takes a long time to swim/dig through the mud and other obstacles to reach the stream, so it is not a viable escape option for anyone but Milligan) It also, as previously mentioned, houses a lot of bugs. We do not know what kind of bugs these are. And yet, since they are alive, they must be living off of something in there. Most bugs cannot just live off of mud. So, either the Executives are having to refresh the bug population from time to time (And where would they get the bugs? Do they collect them? Does Curtain purchase them and have them shipped to the island? Does no one question this?) Or the Waiting Room is its own mainly self-contained ecosystem. My prevailing tentative theory is that it was designed for research/as a science experiment and then either abandoned until Curtain needed somewhere to keep people or he deliberately made the decision that it was part of his interrogation methods for the agents he captured (before he brainswept them) and then he simply extended the use to interrogating students.

BUT ALSO

How did Curtain in the book convince teenagers/young adults to leave children in there? It is an entirely different ballgame to tell someone (especially a younger person who hasn't quite got the morals beaten out of them yet) that it is completely safe and not at all detrimental to leave ELEVEN YEAR OLDS in a pitch-black room of slimy mud and unknown creatures for any period of time! That must have left some damage to the Executives, or maybe they had already experienced it and were afraid to be threatened with it again. Either way, that's such a terrifying thing to anyone, especially a child, and especially since they seemed to choose to leave kids in there overnight (Maybe so it wouldn't interfere with too many classes?) and they wouldn't get any sleep. AND THEN the meaner Executives and Curtain would GASLIGHT THEM. "It's not such a bad place" "Nobody likes to wait, but it didn't hurt you" "Waiting can be unpleasant, but sometimes there's no help for it" and whatever else they said. We don't even hear about the Waiting Room from Sticky or one of the other kids who've been sentenced; they just get extremely upset and start crying.

What I'm saying is, while it was a very clever narrative tool and an unconventional way to raise stakes without causing physical harm to children, I can see why it was toned down for the show. However, I think it is a fascinating bit of plot that can be examined in a lot of different ways.

[lesbian-ed]

Hi. I don't know if this blog is still active but in case it is I was hoping maybe to hear some thoughts from you, or maybe even your followers, about confidence and comfort towards one's own body. Like how to deal with anxiety. I am lesbian, obviously female, way too old, I've never had sex, or even really dated. I don't approach people romantically because I hate my body and distance myself from all chances for dating. I've been trying to lose weight but I've struggled with obesity practically all my life. I also think I'm much hairier (I mean it's everywhere and I'm not light haired either omg) than what is normal for most women, and I hate both shaving and just letting the hair grow. I have more or less given up on dating because I don't want people to see me naked or get close to me. Sometimes I feel I'm content but sometimes I feel this isn't healthy: it concerns me that my hatred for my body is keeping me from experiencing intimacy, and how long can that go on until it becomes psychologically damaging. Though who am I kidding - the damage's been done. I understand that people of all shapes and sizes etc. date, fall in love and so on, but I have this deep-rooted discomfort about my body that I've felt since I was around twelve. So I was hoping to hear some thoughts or experiences on how one might overcome this kind of persistent disgust, though I understand if this isn't the kind of ask you wanna answer. In any case thank you for reading.

Hi! I'm sorry this ask has been sitting in our inbox for a few months, unfortunately we don't always still have the time or energy to go through the asks anymore. I wanted to answer this, and I know it's so late but here's to hoping you might wander back here someday, and that this may help you, or another woman who feels similary.

I shared this view for a really long time (so much so, I identified as trans for a long time. I never felt "woman enough" because of my body). I struggled with being fat, hairy, "unwomanly".

When I was in school all of my friends got attention from boys and men, and I never peaked anyone's interest. Even though I didn't want to be with boys, I still craved that attention, I thought there was something wrong with me for being someone who no one would ever want. I punished myself with no eating, too much eating, self harm.

For me, what finally clicked was when I was first introduced to radical feminism, and through that I started thinking about the concept of inherent worth. I knew all women had inherent worth for being women, for being alive. I knew I had empathy and care for all women, regardless of thei appearance, and I thought they all deserve respect. That eventually led to the radical realization that if I think all women are worthy, then I must extend this to myself. I am woman, just as any other. And my external appearance doesn't change my self worth.

It really helped to stop seeing what is considered "ugly" as a negative thing, and rather to think of it as neutral, inconseqential, of no value. Instead of looking at all that was "wrong" with me as a bad thing, I took all power from it. I knew that I would never think badly of other women who looked like me, so why would I be the only exception?

Slowly, I was able to take away all the weight I put into my appearance, and became more neutral. Don't get me wrong, I'm not magically healed. There are still days where I'm reminded of all the ways that I don't fit into society's expectations for what a woman should be. I'm reminded of how terrified my mom was and still is that I'd end up staying fat. I'm reminded of aunts and uncles comenting on me losing and gaining weight since I was as young as 6 or 7. I know that being hairy, with dark body hair all over, is not the standard for what's attractive.

But those days have less weight in the grand scheme of things because no longer is my focus in life to be palatable. And I don't mean to come off like I have all the answers, that my way is the only way. I know this is not an easy journey.

But I think in order for you to start seeing yourself as someone who is worthy of desire, of love, of care, first you've got to see yourself as human. The more I look back at how people treated me growing up, at how people still treat me now, the truth is that society doesn't see "ugly" women as people. We are dehumanized, objectified as clutter, things in the way of what is "right".

I'm sure you're a kind and nice person. Look at yourself from the outside in, look at yourself as you'd look at someone else: what would you say to yourself then? Would you really think so badly of you then?

Be patience. I understand we have a lot telling us that we are not good enough, that aging is bad, that we have expiration dates. But as long as you are around, you are human, you are worthy of kindness.

Regarding the romantic aspect of this, I used to share your anxiety, that no one would want to look at me naked, that I would never feel comfortable undressing in front of someone. But then I met my girlfriend, and she made me feel so comfortable with myself that when we finally met and the time came to share intimacy... It just happened so organically, so naturally. It wasn't a performance, it was caring for each other. Not once did she look at me with disgust, not once was she anything but kind. I don't think it's just because she's some saint. I think when you care about someone, attraction comes naturally, and you don't separate body and mind. You just know that is your person, and you want them fully.

So maybe slowly working on allowing others to see you for who you are, not physically, but like.... Your personality. Open up. It doesn't need to be going on dating apps. It's just... surround yourself with women. Be around other women, love them, let them love you.

Things move slow, but self care can be just allowing a friend to tell you you're a good person. Accept compliments, even when your instinct is to tell others that they're wrong. Be kind to yourself. You deserve kindness, there is nothing about the way you look that is inherently wrong.

Posting this here so hopefully we'll hear from others as well, and hopefully you'll catch this one. Take care. Be well. You deserve good things, just because you're human, just because you're there.

[pianocat939]

Okay so, bc Yandere Reader/Character fics are soo gd Rare, yes even yan4yan stuff, imma toss an idea, at least, at cha.

So yan4yan Leo/Reader (R) where R is perfectly content playing the darling who can't do a damn thing for themselves bc it makes their pretty slider happy & keeps him theirs until they learn about what happened to Leo during the attempted Kraang invasion, specifically what happened in the Prison Dimension, & they do a complete 180 of sorts. R knows they can't subdue & entrap their perfect gorgeous slider by themselves, not while he still has access to his powers at least, so they start slowly manipulating his brothers into helping them when Leo's not around & clinging to the slider anytime he tries to go anywhere by himself, practically begging him to take someone with him. Until finally they manage to convince Donnie to make something to suppress Leo's powers & all three of them to go along w/ & allow whatever R does to Leo bc "I nearly lost him before I even knew him. I nearly never met the love of my life. Can you blame me for wanting to keep him close, at least until I process that, for the sake of soothing my frazzled nerves that are terrified that he's GONE!? That the love we've shared is nothing more than an iridescent pipe dream!? I just. I need to be sure he's safe & alive & here with me, at least until I've processed this. Please." And Leo doesn't know whether to be impressed, terrified, sad, or delighted at this development. He's just stuck in a blanket swaddle/burrito, R clinging to him like an octopus, unable to even reach at the power suppressor choker Donnie made & R forced onto him on his bed. He is definitely, at least, angry that their roles are reversed currently w/ him having to rely on R for everything tho, even if the doting is kinda nice.

Is this idea based entirely off the fact I feel that we Rarely if Ever use Leo's trauma from the movie in any Yandere content & I'm sad about that, yes, yes it is. Also ya ain't gotta do shit w/ this I'm just kinda screaming at the void through you rn. -O🌙

There's a perhaps odd reason why I don't really focus on Leo's trauma from the movie- it's because I see it so much in other writers' content to the point I focus on his other problems BEFORE the movie rather than the events of the film.

You're probably thinking: "Why Celina? It's such a major string of events and character development!"

It's true, that it's bad I'm disregarding such a big experience for Leo, but I also like to think of the other things more because I just think it's a waste people forget about it.

For example, remember Leo got super pissy while they tried to rescue Raph (like when he was in the driver's seat?) well for one thing he wanted to save Raph, and the sight before him of Raph's shell being cracked was another, but I personally think his lack of self-worth in terms of bringing his qualities to the table really drove his emotions.

Like- he felt he absolutely had to rescue Raph immediately because he's worried, and he would feel more useless not doing anything to save his brother.

But that's only my thought.

[overx]

Rock <3

What do you think is the worst possible way to die?

Do you think there’s life after death?

Do you ever wish you were immortal?

If you had to choose a way to die, what would you choose?

Have you ever seen a ghost/spirit?

Ask My Muse About Death | Accepting!

What do you think is the worst possible way to die?

"Depends," an unimpressed arch of the eyebrow. "In general? Or for me personally? Cause those are real different answers."

Rock considers the question, but apparently it's just morbid enough to get him talking.

"For livin' things, prob'ly suffocation, drownin', or maybe bleedin' out. The kind of death that feels long, where you know exactly what's happenin'. The kind that's desperate. Heavy." Terrifying. "A lifetime in a few minutes." 'Can you imagine it?', his tone seemingly asks. "Much worse than a death by disease or starvation. Worse than somethin' instant. It's that place right between." Too quick to stop, too slow not to suffer.

That's not the whole question though, is it? "Physical pain I can handle, not huge on disrepair though. Havin' parts of yourself slowly stop workin'... or worse," he scowls at his own internal process. "I always wondered if it was possible for machines t' think ourselves t' death. What happens when we meet our hardware limitations? When we breach capacity?"

The slow crawl of glitching entropy. Half overwritten data. The fragmented self.

"...suppose it's that or bein' reprogrammed while online. My personal fuckin' nightmare. At the end of the day, I'm nothin' but code, an' when you start changin' the ones an' zeroes...."

...am I still me?

"...give me a physical death any day."

Do you think there’s life after death?

"Never been too sure on that one." Although he doesn't seem all that bothered one way or the other. "Couldn't ever decide if that'd be a good or bad thing in the first place-- miserable, prob'ly." This life isn't exactly something that bears repeating now is it? "Shit if there is one, I sure as hell don't remember it. Died an' been put back together, an' all I got between was a fuckton of nothin', 'n more nothin'." He sounds more inconvenienced than anything else.

"Besides that, I'm pretty fuckin' sure 'bots like me don't really count as alive anyways. Can't join an afterlife when you don't have a life t' begin with, yeah?" Rockwell pauses, something coming to mind. "...suppose I do know someone who believes in that sort of thing. Maybe he's right, but I firmly believe that shit don't apply t' where I'm from."

Do you ever wish you were immortal?

"If you're askin' me this question, then we ain't well acquainted," he drawls casually. "Let me put this in simple terms: I'd rather fuckin' die. There, see? Nice an' easy." There's a grisly sort of amusement in his digital voice.

"I lived a real long time bein' pieced back together. Forced t' keep existin' no matter how mangled an' fucked up I got. I would only wish that on my worst enemy an' frankly I'd still just rather kill him myself."

Get the idea? Good. "Don't ask me stupid shit like that again."

If you had to choose a way to die, what would you choose?

"...well..." this is the first time the Light-bot's demeanor seems to change, his well-worn scorn fading.

"...call me a romantic if ya want, but ideally I'd like it at my partner's hands." It's clear this isn't the first time he's given this subject any thought. "I can't imagine a more satisfyin' end than fightin' until I can't. Pushin; myself to the limit, an' him being the one to put me down..."

Beautifully violent. Destructively intimate.

Briefly, Rock looks a bit embarrassed by his own daydreaming. "Not-- not any time soon, of course."

Have you ever seen a ghost/spirit?

"...no, an' I ain't keen on startin' now," a frown, the machine appearing disgruntled by the question.

"I don't fuck with shit that I can't solve myself. Seein' as I can't exactly create the ghost of a ghost... well, ya get the picture." It's an open and shut discussion for him from the looks of it.

[rk-ocs]

Red old notes

I'm trying to get characters down for people red will meet. Its all pretty vague at the moment.

In the far future there are the collony of mars. Going back a bit, there are the people who fight the zombie appolopyce, and before that ailen invasion.

She has crews in all of these.

Mars gives her insanly good hospital care, innoculating her against disease, treating brain damage, near beheading damage, anything (and brought the ghost she was talking too back from the dead [she's not sure how they pulled that one]). Also PT, and any learning she needs. For them she is an elite agent, that they train in what they need.

Now the zombie crew and the ailens are very diffrent. Rather then show a degrading human enviorment in the zombie parts, I want to show humanity being unified. Communication, coporation, group skills are strong here. In contrast the ailen crew is the failing of the above enviorment, with corruption, Parinoia and fear being the things that are bringing society as a whole down.

Of course there is going to be people she reluctantly works with too. People who keep her there with threats or callousness.

(If you don't agree, I'll shoot you, and we will see what you think after you've recovered next time.)

And a betrayal that messes her up pretty badly. Yah. What a way to get trust issues. Learning someone you trusted was a horribly bad judgement on your part , by discovering her torture basement after years of feeling safe at her house. And now that you know, you can see it first hand, and learn that not only does this person who is good at getting you out of hospitals is not only a serial murder, but is also turned on by seeing other people in pain. And you just became too victim, as she knows messing up with you means she can try again later.

And latter means she got you out of the hospital and into her house while you were recovering from surgery or something. And so the cycle repeats, until something breaks. I'm thinking of this crazy in modern day.

-yah that's pretty dark. It started with the statistic of being killed by people you know 80% of the time, Then it met Paul Bernado, and Carla Homolka. Well, not being a rapist, or drugging (In this instance.) but being friends with a psychopath. One who's good enough at omitting details, and presenting things, that it's hard to catch the lie.  One thing that stuck in my head, was the cement blocks. Also terrifying psychopath behavior. Yah rather than being serial rapists and murderers, this one has sexual Sadism disorder, in addition to psychopathy. 

  

Yah, I'm going to need to research this more, but it will probably involve mutilation, verbal abuse, trophies, being buried alive, and Red knowing she's into it. Umm, let's move on.

There's also going to be hollocoust. At first, she does have people who have her a place to hide, along with Jews. After everyone's hair was shaved (lice) and they were caught, she was taken to Auchwitz with them. Fun times…

[manslaught]

her face immediately grows warmer, feeling like she's been caught, until she realizes that means tai was paying attention to her, too, and suddenly, that's the only thing that actually matters to her, especially after feeling completely forgotten for so many years. “ how do you know? weren't you supposed to be focusing on your homework? ” she'd been too busy trying desperately not to look at tai to even notice if she was looking at her at any point, but that doesn't feel like something she should say at all. “ and for the record, all i've done since getting out is watch fucking movies— i'm allowed to get bored. ” she's hesitant to even use the word bored after learning the true meaning of boredom during her last couple years in prison, but she's not exactly exaggerating when she says all she's done is watch movies— it was the easiest way to catch up on everything she missed out on in the last five years, but even she's growing tired of it.

it's almost amusing, watching tai get irritated over the thought of mikayla with someone else, because it's like she's not even aware that mikayla doesn't want anyone else. it doesn't matter how interesting or smart or hot brittany's friend is, because mikayla can't possibly open herself up to the thought of someone who isn't tai. she just feels like she can't have her yet, still afraid that the moment taissa gets used to her again, she'll get bored, realize that she was doing so much better without mikayla in her life, and just leave her again.

“ it's not like we ever went on movie dates, in case you forgot. ” unless a fucking bonfire counts, but mikayla doesn't think it does. she nearly points out that she could have gotten them free tickets back in wiskayok, but that would have required them to actually talk after rescue, instead of mikayla being terrified of it, and had only that happened, everything would be different now— so she doesn't let herself think about it any more than that, choosing not to bring it up. “ i'm trying to. you're the one who keeps distracting me. ” she can try to blame it on her horrible attention span, but mikayla knows it's just because it's her, because she'd much rather just be with her than focus on another fucking movie.

she doesn't actually trust brittany to pick a girl out for her, because she doesn't understand that what mikayla had with tai isn't something mikayla could easily move on from, because it was more than just some teenage fling— but that's not brittany's fault, since mikayla can't explain the things they went through out there, how loving tai was what kept her alive, and that's not something that could be easily replaced. mikayla's smile fades into a frown, because she can't do whatever she wants, too afraid to actually go after it, after her. “ for my sake, ” she repeats in disbelief. “ so you're not jealous? ” she scoffs, feeling brave enough to actually call her out on it, partly just to boost her own ego— and it just feels important, knowing that tai actually does care.

mikayla should probably just drop the subject, let tai stay jealous, because it's what she deserves after leaving mikayla on her own for years, but she loves her too much to want her to feel that way for more than a few minutes. she looks back toward the tv, her confidence abandoning her again, making herself smaller against her corner of the couch. “ i'm not, ” she says quietly. “ —looking for someone else. brittany just thinks i need to get laid or something. i'm just doing it to shut her up, mostly. ” not because she wants to move on or find someone else or even experience what it's like to go on a normal date with a girl for the first time, back in civilization— she doesn't actually want any of that unless it's with tai, but even if she's willing to admit she's only going for brittany's sake, she can't let herself explain any more than that. “ it's not, like... serious. ”

she rolls her eyes,  because she definitely doesn’t need to hear the details about that— and she doesn’t want to believe that’s the only reason mikayla’s here, anyway.   ❝  right.  well—  you didn’t seem too interested in that, either,  ❞   she points out,  because she was definitely paying attention to that,  to her.  for as much as she ruined thinking that staying together might’ve distracted her from her path forward,  having her here has actually kept her focused,  yet still able to take breaks when necessary—  to focus on her.   

yeah, she could be good.   and tai shouldn’t stand in her way.  she has no idea if mikayla will even see taissa as an option again,  nor does she know for certain that it’d be right for her, too.  she just knows that she doesn’t know how to encourage her to be with someone else,  when she still wants her,  but she doesn’t feel like she’s allowed to say that.  ❝  she could be,  ❞  she mumbles, hating the way it sounds so dismissive. 

she rolls her eyes,  but it’s impossible to be annoyed at her teasing,  because she’s only endeared by it,  a smile tugging at her lips against her will.  she scoffs a moment later and turns to look at her.  ❝  so,  you just don’t trust me?  ❞    she catches her words immediately,  because she knows the answer,  but she tries to clarify quickly.  ❝  — you don’t trust that i know what you’d like?   you’re not even giving it a chance,  ❞   she scoffs,  mostly to get the attention off herself and how flustered she is.  

she keeps her eyes on the screen,  because she’s afraid that if she looks back at mikayla,  it may be too obvious how nervous she is,  just talking about another girl going on a date with mikayla.   because now, her words are stuck in her head:  she could be good.  her jaw clenches when she hears that the girl went to MIT,  her body shifting slightly as she pretends to just be getting comfortable.   ❝  do you trust brittany?  ❞   she mumbles,   having no reason to make a dig at her friend,  because she never really knew her herself.   her eyes roll at the question,  and she finally glances to mikayla.  ❝  no.  do whatever you want,  ❞   she mumbles,   despite hating the way that sounds.  ❝  i just didn’t realize you were, like, looking for someone.  ❞   it’s not fair, expecting some kind of loyalty to her,  when friends is all they are.   ❝  hope she doesn’t end up boring you to death.  for your sake.  ❞    

[monocaelia]

royalty au headcanons

what they would be in a royalty au and the sweet moments shared with them.

feat. albedo, childe, diluc, kaeya, venti

genre : fluff, slight angst in childe's

❀ albedo

albedo is the royally appointed painter of your family. he's in charge of painting all of the portraits of the royal family, which is well deserved. the blond artist's brush strokes and painting techniques make all of his works of art feel so alive, almost as if they could walk out of the canvas they were painted on and live amongst the people.

he prides in his works, always making sure each square inch of each painting absolutely perfect before presenting it to the royal family. even if they were already perfect to begin with. but, as they say, you're your own worst critic.

from since you were both young, he was hired by your family to teach you the basics of the arts as well as how to properly hold a brush.

so, you could say albedo has watched you grow from a grubby child to the elegant and refined person you grew up to be. an honor, really, to watch the stars in your eyes grow brighter and brighter with each passing year.

"ah, you've messed up the brush stroke here," albedo's gentle voice points out the mistake in your technique. your ears burn from having your mistakes pointed out, but you know it's for the best. you clear your throat and try to fix it, only to have albedo sigh from beside you.

"like this, your highness." before you can even react, you feel the heat from albedo's chest radiating against your back and your hand is encased in his own. he guides your hand with his, making the brush you're holding glide smoothly across the canvas.

his hand is cold, you think to yourself, and you wonder if he's been maintaining his health properly. but in contrast to his hand, his breath is warm against your ear as he talks you through the painting technique.

it's hard to focus when you're feeling overstimulated from the proximity of the blond painter and the rather domestic position you're in; almost as if your entire body is being embraced by the artist you grew up with.

"understand, your highness?" his quiet voice breaks your thoughts. he's close to you... so close. you gulp, praying to the archons above that albedo couldn't feel your hands shaking from this entire exchange.

"i thought you were supposed to call me by my name when we're alone together, albedo," you stutter out shakily. it's then that albedo realizes the position the two of you are in. his teal eyes widen slightly in surprise and his ears begin to burn a light pink. the artist pulls away, muttering a small apology to you.

though, albedo has to admit that having you in his arms, albeit for painting, felt so nice. from the position he was in, albedo could have counted the thousands of stars that your eyes held; and he would do anything to see them again.

❀ childe

ajax became a knight of your kingdom from a young age. he was always bored from the day to day schedule of his familial job; he wanted more and nothing could satiate the need to do something, anything that could give him the exhilaration that he needed.

which being in the knights provided for him. from learning how to properly wield a sword, to sparring with the best knights in your kingdom, to being a master at any and all weapons in your artillery, the ginger haired knight loved every second. he always felt alive when wielding his weapon, always grinning ear to ear when he's sparring for fun.

despite being a terrifying machine of war, ajax would never betray your family, let alone you. he swore an oath to protect everyone in the kingdom when he joined the knights, and that included you. the one who has watched him since he was a clumsy knight in training, fixed up his injuries, and wiped his tears away when he was frustrated with himself.

the call of ajax's name alerts him of your presence along with the quick pads of your shoes against the pavement. said male turns to look at you, smile big and bright on his face. "your highness! fancy seeing you here so late. did you miss me that mu-"

"is it true?" you interrupt him. your furrowed brows and frown etched onto your features contrast against the bright expression on the knight's. ajax's smile falters a bit when you stop in front of him, holding your arm and biting your lip in concern. "is it true that you're going to fight in the war?"

ajax blinks, stunned at your question. but he laughs lowly, not helping you in your concerned state. "of course, why wouldn't i? i made an oath to protect you, your family, and the people. it's my duty to go to the front lines."

his cerulean eyes stare into your own. you take a breath, hesitating on what to say or do next. ajax assumes you're going to scold him for throwing himself into the pits of danger, assumes that you're going to yell at him because when he fights he fights with no care to his own body. he would power on through the fight until he physically wasn't capable anymore.

"would you stay with me if i asked you to?"

your question surprises the ginger knight. out of all things that you could have done or said, he wasn't expecting this.

his finger strokes your cheek, sliding forward until your jaw rests in the palm of his hand. ajax gives you a smile, endearing yet bittersweet. he wants to stay here with you, to see your annoyed expression when he ends up hurting himself again or the huge smile on your face when he does something dumb.

but duty calls. and you know that.

his heart falls when you sigh and pull away from his touch. but it flutters again when he feels something hard press into the palm of his hand, your own covering his.

"then, promise me you won't die out there, ajax. take this lucky charm of mine and stay safe. i'll miss you."

you plant a quick kiss on his freckled cheek and run off before he could see you cry. unfolding his hands, he's greeted with the delicate, red mask you've placed in his hands.

❀ diluc

being the heir to the throne of your own family makes it hard to miss the prince of the neighboring kingdom. prince diluc is a stoic and hard to please person. every time you've seen him in passing at royal balls, he has always had a frown or blank expression on his face.

but, despite what his outer expression and appearance shows, the young prince is a kind and gentle individual. at least to you. in contrast to how stoic he is with others, his warmth is always welcoming and comforting to you. if he's being honest, you're one of the few people, if not the only person, who has witnessed the genuine yet small smile of prince diluc.

when he has the time off, he writes letters to you, often complaining about how useless the knights and how he would rather work alone. but he never fails to indulge you about the little things that have happened since the last time he has spoken to you. how he misses seeing you and that the next time you visit he would take you to a beautiful meadow he passed by on one of his scouts around mondstadt.

you, his only friend who sees the young prince as who he is, and not what the rumors, nor what his title says he is.

"thought i'd see you out here." diluc's ears perk at the familiar cadence of your voice. his eyes that held the warmth of fire flit up to look at you, and his breath is taken away. underneath the gentle glow of the moon, you're practically glowing in front of him. with rich, beautiful silks covering your body and a comforting smile quirking your lips up.

"what are you doing out here? it's cold out here, and the party's inside, [name]," he scolds you. diluc's expression deadpans when you stick your tongue out the corner of your mouth and shrug. when a cold breeze flows through and you physically shiver, the red haired prince sighs and slides off his coat, throwing it over your shoulders.

"i could say the same to you. besides, i saw you out here looking lonely and like a fool, so i thought it would be nice to join you. so you don't look so pathetic." it takes everything in the young prince to not take his jacket back from you and march back inside the palace with the intolerable guests. "i'm kidding! but not about the lonely part. are you alright?"

the playful glint in your eyes disappears in that moment, captivating diluc yet again. he could never outright tell you this, but your eyes are the most beautiful he has ever seen. filled with actual starlight and twinkling with fondness for the awkward prince.

"yeah, just a bit overwhelmed with the guests inside."

you hum in response to him. "well. why don't i keep you company then? from one royal to another. we don't have to say anything, but having someone with you is comforting, right?" ruby eyes widen when you step forward and grab onto his hands, intertwining them. he hopes his cheeks aren't as red as they feel and that you can't see his blush despite the proximity.

"r-right. as long as it's just you, [name]."

maybe the young prince will find the courage to be more forward with you, ask to court you with a bouquet if your favorite flowers and a love letter slipped in between the petals. but for now, he finds solace in your company and your gentle hand laced with his.

❀ kaeya

the origins of how kaeya ended up in your kingdom's calvary is an enigma. no one is quite sure where he had come from, nor had any idea who he trained under considering he was an exceptional equestrian and sword fighting on horseback came so easy to him. every time anyone asked him about his background or history, the blue haired knight would always brush it off and redirect the conversation to something else.

despite having a mysterious background, kaeya still ended up captain of your calvary not too long after he joined your kingdom. though, anyone could have expected it considering he easily outwitted the previous calvary captain in their own sparring sessions.

during his time there, you can't admit that kaeya hasn't caught your eye. he's handsome; his laughter and taunts while sparring with the other knights sends butterflies to your stomach. charismatic and always lightly teasing you whenever you drop by the knight's hall made it difficult to suppress the rhythmic thrum of your heart.

"oh come on, your highness. don't tell me you're getting cold feet now." the smirk on kaeya's face only grows when you send him a glare. he finds it amusing that you're still trying to stand your ground despite your evident fear of the horse in front of you. "i thought you knew how to mount a horse."

the calvary captain snickers when you tell him that you are going to, that you're just not familiar with his horse. his sapphire eye follows your movements and form a crescent when his horse turns her head to look at you.

as you try and muster out an explanation on why you were startled, kaeya takes this time to slide his hands underneath your arms and hoists you up above the horse. your leg slips over the saddle of the pure white mare and you yelp in surprise at the sudden motion.

before you can yell at kaeya for not warning you, the calvary captain climbs onto the saddle behind you. because of the limited space on his horse, the blue haired knight's chest is pressed against your back and his arms encase you so that he could properly hold onto the reins.

"cat got your tongue, your highness? there's no need to be so scared, i won't let you fall. well, unless you're being more unpleasant than usual. don't blame me if you end up on the floor."

laughter surrounds you when you yell at the calvary captain to 'stop messing around.' he can't help it; kaeya loves riling you up and hearing his name slip from your lips regardless of if it's in between fits of giggles or out of anger when he teases you one too many times.

from the position you're in, you aren't able to witness the endearing look that adorns kaeya's visage when you calm down and lean into his touch as soon as his mare starts moving.

❀ venti

there's nothing that suits venti more than being associated with music in some way, shape, or form. he's a well known musician around your kingdom; knowing at least the basics of every instrument known to man and having every song he has ever heard by memory.

rumors around your kingdom flutter around, saying that hearing a song sung by venti himself could cure almost any disease because of how angelic and healing his voice is. of course, it's not true but the young bard likes to play along with it. anything to get free drinks at the local bar, right?

there's no surprise that your family hired the bard to become your piano tutor. but cheeky smiles, poetic songs regarding the beauty of nature, and lyrical poetry of the beauty you hold make it hard for you to not fall for the playful virtuoso.

a delicate melody drifts down the halls of the castle, elegant staccato piano cords resonate in each other's harmony. your fingers deftly glide over the ivory keys, eyes closed and letting your memory guide you through the piece.

beside you, venti plays your counterpart with a gentle smile on his face. a contrast to the beautiful, yet complicated composition that was being performed.

it was his idea to learn this rather tedious piano duet; you thought it was too difficult because of the complicated melodic line and technical harmonies. you recall many nights filled with frustrated tears and crumpled silk from trying to perfect the melody given to you; and venti's gentle voice as he consoled you during those nights and urged you to rest.

before you know it, the piano duet ends with a final statement of the tonic harmony. silence settles into the room as the final chord resonates in the empty concert hall, only to be broken when you shout victoriously.

"your highness, that was a wonderful performance!" venti congratulates you with a proud smile on his lips. the percussive beat in his chest accelerates when you beam at him, the candlelight making your eyes gleam as if they held the entire universe in them.

"it's all thanks to you, venti! oh gosh, i'm so proud of us i could almost kiss you!" the statement leaves your mouth without thinking and leaves the both of you stunned. one, two, three beats of silence and on the fourth you begin to stutter out an apology with a flustered expression on your face.

venti's airy, light laugh fills your ears and echoes against the vast walls of the concert hall. you want to dig yourself in a hole and hide for the rest of your life.

"and what if i take you up on that offer, your highness? or should i call you [name] now? a kiss ending this performance of ours would be way better than a bow, don't you think?"

[theonewiththefanfics]

Paranoid (one-shot)

Synopsis: Loki wasn’t paranoid. I mean, that was before he met the Reader. Ever since then, all day every day he can only think of her, what she’s doing, where she’s going and what’s happening to her. All because she’s a grade A dumb ass.

Pairing: Loki x fem!Reader

Genre: fluff, maybe toiny bit of angst

Warnings: Reader has one brain cell and even that is not used, swearing, a lil bit of sad thoughts and general idiocy.

Word count: 3430

He was paranoid about her. Always. With every step he took. No exceptions. And it wasn’t how you might think. He’s not paranoid she might find someone better even though he thinks she deserves it. He’s not paranoid to have his heart broken and smashed into pieces because she carries it on velvet palms wherever she goes. No. It’s just that Y/N has quite the knack of getting hurt. And she’s been out on a mission for a month. Without any contact. So it was safe to say Loki was more than worried.

You could say he’s overreacting, but when it comes to his girl, it’s pretty much in the range. In fact, this is the calmest and collected Loki had been during the thirty-two days she was away, all because Y/N was finally coming home, and he could lay his green eyes upon her body to assess the damage.

When they had first met, Loki had had no idea what kind of a tornado he’d let in his life. Even the Black Widow had warned him about the woman before there had been any inclination something more than a friendship could bloom.

“She’s an absolute dumb-ass without a survival instinct,” Nat had said through a laugh, a beer bottle pressed against her rouged lips. “Honestly, I can only hope you two get put together on a mission just so you could see how big of an idiot she is. Bigger than Scott, and that’s saying something.”

In the meantime, Y/N was laughing away, head thrown back and eyes closed. “No,” she’d pointed at the redhead after nearly choking on her coffee as she pressed a tissue against the liquid that had dribbled down her chin. “I do have a survival instinct. I just don’t have a self-preservation instinct.” 

“And what’s the difference?” the Asgardian prince’s black eyebrow rose in question.

“When shit goes down, I do try to, you know, get out in somewhat of a single piece. It’s the before it happens that I don’t do.”

“You mean thinking?”

Y/N clapped her hands in excitement. “Exactly! I don’t do the thinking bit!”

That should’ve been his warning for what kind of chaos she’d bring to his life. 

It started off small with her inability to walk into the adjoined kitchen area without stubbing a toe or bruising the side of her hip against the countertop. Then it evolved into him noticing how Y/N didn’t press the button to release her toast when she thought it was in at prime toastiness level, instead, she grabbed a fork and full-on jammed it down there (DON’T DO THAT), not caring whether she’d get electrocuted or blow out the fuses in the facility. It escalated all the way to her getting trapped in an ex-Hydra base, and her first thought being not to use the window as an escape route, but rather line the sides of the room with explosives and bring the whole floor down while she hid underneath a table. He was genuinely surprised Y/N was still alive. 

But with the chaos also came serenity. She’d sneak into his room with glimmering eyes and a new book in hand, slipping under Loki’s cold sheets to lay against him and explain why the new piece of literature was ‘the actual shit’ and ‘if he didn’t read it right at that moment, she’d gouge his eyes out cause he didn’t deserve them.’

Obviously, they were empty threats, and as Loki rolled the before mentioned green eyes, he’d gently take the book out of her hands while Y/N quickly scurried out of the room to come back five minutes later with two teacups in hand.

Y/N would snuggle up against him and listen to how his voice expertly wove the words into the story, but one time it was different. The day on which the nature of their relationship had flipped upside down, had followed the same routine they’d been having for around three months since they’d become friends, but then not even ten minutes later he felt her wet tongue completely press against his bare shoulder. By that point, after everything she’d done, he didn’t even question it, simply turned the page.

“Did you burn your tongue on the tea, darling?”

“Noube,” she muffled out not letting her tongue off of his chilled skin.

“You know there’s another way I could cool it down.”

“Eah? Ike aht?”

“I could kiss it better.”

Instantly Y/N had peeled herself off from him and stared at the god, the pink muscle hanging out of her mouth like a dog’s on a hot summer day. Loki just stared at the wall. 

He hadn’t meant for those words to escape him; he’d actually always meant to suppress his feelings for the girl until the day the world stopped spinning. In fact, that’s what he’d been doing ever since she’d returned from a mission in East India seven months prior, battered and bruised and his heart had lifted to the heavens at the sight of her simply smiling and breathing.

Loki could hear her swallow harshly, and then she whispered, “don’t offer something you won’t go through with.”

His head snapped to look at her because the tone wasn’t the teasing lilt he’d gotten used to. This woman sitting half-covered by his black bedsheets was no longer the self-assured, confident and no-shit’s-given person he’d grown to love. This woman was looking at him with fear of rejection and yet unmistakable hope in her eyes. 

Slowly he closed the book, not even caring to mark the page he was left on and put it on the side of the bed before leaning over and without hesitation cupping Y/N’s cheeks and pressing their lips together and they sagged against one another at the euphoric feeling. 

Her hands in his hair felt like paradise as she cradled his head in an attempt to pull him closer, and she gasped when he did slip his tongue in her mouth, eagerly accepting the intrusion. But then she just had to ruin the moment by snorting in his face, though Loki couldn’t hide the smile that appeared on his own.

“What? What’s so funny?”

Y/N scrunched her nose. “Your tongue’s really cold.”

“It did the trick though, right?”

She looked like she was pondering it for a bit, and in the meantime slid her legs up so they were now wrapped around his waist. “Dunno. Might need another treatment. You know, so we’re sure it’s cured.”

He didn’t argue for even a second because Loki couldn’t believe his life at that moment. It was filled with giggles, and short breaths as they stole kisses from one another as much as possible, and soft caresses that sometimes turned into biting fingers that dug in the other’s sides whenever a teasing remark slipped past their swollen lips.

His heart flipped in his chest when Y/N threw her head back in a cackle, exposing her neck to him where he laid loving kisses. 

He’d never been more scared of a feeling.

He was terrified of how easily she’d gotten ahold of his heart.

But fuck him, if Loki didn’t love it and wouldn’t dive headfirst into it again.

Though now, when she’d finally returned home after the mission, he was kind of regretting it as Y/N was being wheeled off the Quin-jet on a gurney, one of the hands that had so tenderly braided his hair just a month ago now limp over the side of the stretcher as the other covered a hole in her side that was oozing blood.

White-hot fury blazed through his veins, as he saw the Captain step down the track and onto the landing pad, though fortunately for the blond super-soldier, the god didn’t get to him as he decided to follow Bruce and Tony who were taking Y/N to the med bay. But even knowing the love of his life was being treated by the best of the best, didn’t pacify him especially when they refused him entry into her room. 

“Loki, Loki, calm down,” Nat, who’d been on the mission with Y/N and Steve, pushed against his chest to keep the god away from busting through the door. “They won’t let anyone in until she’s been stitched up, but it’s nothing big… I mean on her scale. She just decided to be dramatic and passed out on her way back.”

He wanted to fight, he wanted to make each person that stood between them crumble underneath him, but he knew it wouldn’t do him or Y/N any good. Loki huffed, letting his shoulders drop and then pressing his thumb and forefinger against the bridge of his nose. “How bad?”

“Umm, Marrakesh level, so, nothing too lethal.”

“By Valhalla,” Loki dragged a hand across his face. “That woman will kill me one day. Not directly, no, but I’ll have a heart attack just because of her recklessness.”

Nat snorted and crossed her arms. “I did warn you.”

“Not enough.”

“Hey, don’t blame me! You were the one that fell in love with her.”

That Loki didn’t have a comeback for, so instead, he just huffed and plopped down into one of the chairs that lined the wall outside of the med bay.

“Our lives would be quite dull without her though,” Nat said, joining the god on the chairs and releasing a restrained groan, as she shuffled into the seat. She most likely had a dislocated hip but had practically bitten Steve’s head off when he told her to go and get checked. She, just as much as Y/N’s boyfriend, needed to know their firecracker was alright.

“Yeah,” Loki sighed. “If only she had one more brain cell in that head of hers, maybe we could live in somewhat of a peace.”

Not even two minutes later, Tony threw open the doors and allowed them to enter, but by that point, everyone had heard the arrival of their teammates, and they wanted to check on them. For example, Thor wanted to see if Loki had murdered anyone yet, but as it turned out, he didn’t need to worry about that. Instead, he needed to worry about his brother’s girlfriend.

“Loki!” Y/N squealed seeing the raven-haired god come into her hospital room. “That’s ma man!” she said to Bruce, who only rolled his eyes already used to the way the woman was while coming out of it. “It’s ma Loki Loki, bo-boki, Banana-fana fo-foki, Fee-fi-mo-moki, Loki!”

She dramatically pointed at the other god standing beside him.

“Oh, and that’s his brother Thor, Thor, bo-bhor, Banana-fana fo-fohr, Fee-fi-mo-mohr, Thor!” Her hands slapped against her cheeks as she squeezed them and wiggled them up and down making her words shake. “My-y-y-y-y fa-a-a-a-a-a-ce fee-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-ls li-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-ke cotto-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-n.”

“That’s 'cause you’re high,” Tony said.

Y/N was instantly on it. It was like she was on crack and on steroids and a sugar rush while at the same time doing a hundred miles an hour. “Hello, High. I’m dad.”

Tony looked at the ceiling in despair. “That’s not how that even works.”

“Why’s she like that?” Loki asked sitting down next to Y/N on the bed, who suddenly busied herself with the reflections of the sun the golden cufflinks of his shirt sleeves threw. Especially as his face went to caress her cheek, but she grabbed his wrist in a white-knuckling grip and moved it in certain angles to create reflections on the walls. 

        The billionaire sighed. “We gave her a sedative cause when we started to stitch her up, she woke up and almost kicked Bruce in the nuts, but after a little breakdown of the situation by Steve, it turns out there was some gas involved in the mission, and I guess the combination of the two chemicals have flung her in the stratosphere.”

        That wasn’t a good word, as it turned out it was almost like Bucky’s trigger words, given how Y/N immediately screeched out, “Walking on air, living in the Stratospheeeeeeeeeeeeere!”.

        “Wow,” Nat sighed. “Mutemath would hate her.”

        Y/N stuck her tongue out at the redhead. “You’re mute math, how ‘bout that? No one likes to be name called, you bully.”

        “Yeah, okay,” the redhead chuckled as she patted Y/N’s foot. “You’ll survive. I’m gonna have a nap.” And with that she left limping on her way, Steve following so he could scold her into getting her hip put into place by a professional, not by him or Clint. 

        One by one the rest of the team did as well, knowing that they could rest with easy hearts as Y/N was safe, stitched up and sound. Well, as sound as being completely drugged up could be.

Tony checked her vitals one more time before turning to Loki, who’d refused to leave her on her own, one, because he loved her and wanted to know she was alright, two, because he didn’t trust normal Y/N to not do stupid things, let alone this version. 

“Speaking of naps,” Tony said, “if she doesn’t pass out in the next ten minutes please do your mumbo jumbo and make her. She needs rest. I’ve put in some pain meds with a sleepy side effect, so hopefully, she’ll be out like a light in no time.”

Loki sighed, as he felt Y/N rub her cheek against the silken material of his shirt. “Of course.”

With that, the billionaire left, muttering something about how her generation would be the last generation if they didn’t stop being so stupid. Not that Loki would disagree, his girlfriend being a prime example of that.

Y/N hummed Loki’s name quietly, which made him look down at the love-sick puppy dog eyes she was giving him. A gentle smile appeared on his face.

“Yeah, darling?”

“Mhm,” she hummed, snuggling against his side. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he muttered, kissing the top of her head. “Do you wanna lay down?”

She scoffed looking up at him and tried to shove him off the bed, confusion riddling his face until Y/N said, “I have a boyfriend who I love very much. I’ll cut you before I sleep with you.”

“Yeah.” Loki groaned standing up. “Alright.” Green seidr appeared to weave around his arms, and with a flick of his fingers, her eyes started to drop closed as she slid down the sheets and snuggled up in the place where Loki had been sitting.

He dragged a hand down his face and huffed, plopping his body in the armchair which was in the room deciding to sleep for a bit until Y/N woke up. Although he was a god and didn’t need as much rest as mortal people did, he’d sure as Hel need all the energy he could gather because once his girlfriend was awake it’d be chaos all over. 

Loki didn’t get much rest though when a light touch on his shoulder disturbed him from his sleep.

Slowly his eyes fluttered open, mouth stretching in a smile as Y/N’s face looked down on him with a happy expression. 

        “Hey there, sleepyhead.”

        “Hello, dove,” he muttered, kissing the inside of her palm. “You up?”

        She nodded, whispering, “Yeah. But do you think you could help me with all these wires? I wanna go to our room.”

        Her words were what hit him, making Loki jump up, realising Y/N was out of the bed when she was supposed to be resting.

        Gingerly, despite all the protests from her mouth, he took her under the legs and put her back in the hospital bed. 

        “But – “

        “I will tie you down here if you try to step out again.” His voice was deep and filled with a threat he fully intended to fulfil, but Y/N in her Y/N fashion just wiggled her eyebrows and Loki handed a carton of juice and stabbed the top with a straw.

        “Kinky. I like it. But let’s leave it for our own private time.”

        Pinching the bridge of his nose had become a motion Loki was now all too familiar with. Not even after all the time, he’d put up Thor’s bullshit had he had to do that. He was quite certain his fingers had left indents on his skin. 

“What happened on the mission?” he asked, placing a pudding cup and a spoon on the nightstand.

“Dude came out of nowhere,” Y/N said sipping on her apple juice. “Like he just appeared behind me and stabbed me in the side. Talk about rude, right.”

“You need to be more careful.”

Y/N raised her eyebrow. “I am careful. ‘S not like I go out to get stabbed on purpose.”

But Loki’s tone had lost all lightness, as she exasperated. “No, I need you to be more careful.”

“I am. I –“ but she didn’t get a chance to finish as Loki racked a frustrated hand through his hair, snapping at her. “No, you’re the most reckless person I’ve ever met and you think getting stabbed and inhaling chemicals is not a big deal, but it is, and I can’t do this anymore… I can’t lose you.”

And although it was said with anger and frustration, Y/N could see the underlying pain and fear. His family had all but abandoned him, and we’re not talking about his biological one. All he had left was Thor, and Loki would never admit it out loud, he dreaded the day his brother would disappear from his life.

“Loki.” She took one of his hands and pressed a kiss to his cold knuckles. “You could never lose me.”

A bitter chuckle settled between them as he looked up at her. “But I could. You’re so carefree and fluttery while doing things that could kill you, it scares me half to death.”

“I know,” she whispered. “But I have to.”

Loki’s eyebrows furrowed. “Why?”

“Because if I don’t all the darkness will just settle on me, and I’ll never be able to get out of it.”

Loki squeezed her hand in encouragement, and after taking a deep breath Y/N elaborated. “I try to ease myself with the thought that I’m saving people, and helping humanity, but at the end of the day, I’m still taking lives. It’s not like they, you know, the bad guys’ think they’re the bad guys. They’re not doing it because they think they’re evil. They’re fighting for what they think is right. That doesn’t mean it is, but we’re all villains in someone else’s stories, and if I start thinking of it, I don’t know if I’ll ever stop.” A shuddery exhale left her lips, and this time it was Loki taking a hold of her hand. “I need to let myself be a bit crazy. Because if I don’t, I don’t know how I’ll go on. I promise I don’t do it because of some wish to get killed in the process. It’s just that… it makes it easier to look at the world, to not think for a moment about the bad.”

“Can you just promise me something?” Loki’s tone was soft as a feather’s touch as he sighed, understanding where she was coming from. More than once his own dark thoughts tended to overcome him, but in his world, it was Y/N who brought in the light to dissipate them. He hadn’t gotten to the point where he could do it himself, so he supposed he had to at least be happy she’d found a way to fight them off herself, even if it made him fear for her.

Y/N nodded. “Anything.”

“Just – just try to think before you do anything.”

That set both of them off into a fit of giggles as she raised their clasped hands and pressed a kiss to his cold one. “I can try.”

“Promise.”

“I promise to try. Though, I’d say don’t get disillusioned. I’m still the same crazy person you met before.”

A soft smile graced Loki’s, face and he brought Y/N’s hand to his lips where he pressed a kiss to her warm skin. “Wouldn’t want it any other way. Though, as much as I doubt, you’ll heed my request, you could do one thing for me?”

“And what’s that?”

 “Stop jamming forks in the toaster.”

“Absolutely not!” she scoffed. “How else am I supposed to get the bread out?”

“You wait for it to be done!”

“It takes too fucking long!”

Although Loki would fight tooth and nail to somehow keep Y/N safe and would use everything in his arsenal to make sure she took care of herself, he’d never change her even if it made him paranoid.

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64​ @supernaturalbaesduh​ @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl​ @sea040561​ @staryeyedgirl​ @deathbyarabbit​ @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91​ @dalilx​ @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns​ @averyrogers83​ @in-the-end-im-still-trash​ @gallifreyansass​ @dewy-biitch​ @avxgers​ @unlikelygalaxygiver​ @magicwithaknife​ @ollyoxenfrees​ @bnhvrdy​ @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl​ @sj-thefan​ @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue​ @im-squished​

Marvel tags: @nerissa98​ @happyseagrill​ @asguardiansoftheavengers​ @crazybutconfidentaf​ @wishingforahome​ @pizzarollpatrol​ @desir-ae​

Hiddles/Loki tags: @marvels-queen-bee @julierousing98 @maggiesimps @horrorx570ximagines​ @luluthegreatandterrible​ @bambamwolf87​ @drakesfiance​ @artbysteph87 @beets1bears1battlestargalactica

A/N: I hope everyone’s staying home and is alright during these crazy times.

I’m back writing for ma boy Loki (I had a dream about that Loki - Tom Hiddles look-alike that is on TikTok that we were cuddling, so I’m on a Loki and Tom lovin’ wave)

P.S. my tags are always open :)

P.S.S. what did ya think?

[asweetprologue]

me lámh le do lámh - Part I

Ahh I can’t believe it’s finally done! After a year of working on this beast, it’s finally ready for me to share. This is something I started way back last summer, and I decided to finish it as my project for this year’s @geraskierbigbang. It will be ten parts in total, and I will post one part per day until it is complete! There are several art pieces that were created by the wonderful @herostag​ and Miranda.draws for this story, which I will link when the appropriate section is posted. For a summary and further links, please see the masterpost.

Next | Ao3 | Masterpost

“Alright,” Geralt said. “Don’t laugh at me.”

Yennefer looked up at him with bright eyes, curious and already mirthful. She was sitting across from him in his quarters, reading through a tome she’d found in Kaer Morhen’s disheveled library. Geralt had just come from a bath after hours spent training Ciri in the yard, and the room was filled with the warm evening light, supplemented by the fire crackling in the hearth. Yennefer had insisted on carting dozens of tapestries and drapes to hang around the drafty keep, and the room was nearly stuffy with their bulk keeping the heat in.

Yennefer gave him an amused smirk. “I will make no such promises before I even know what you’re going to say.” The gentle teasing brought a fond smile to Geralt’s face. After the events of the mountain all those years ago, things had been understandably tense. Yennefer had been reluctant to join them when she had finally met up with Geralt after Sodden, but had eventually agreed to seek refuge in the witchers’ keep and teach Ciri to control her magic. Once she’d met the girl it had all been a wash; it was clear as soon as their eyes met across the room that Yennefer was as much a part of Ciri’s destiny as Geralt was.

Geralt had expected that to either mend the rift between them enough for things to go back to the way things were, or make things even more awkward. Instead, they found themselves in a sort of in-between. Over the years his affection for Yennefer had only grown, but he found himself looking to her more and more as a friend—maybe his best friend. After Jaskier, of course.

Speaking of. “I was thinking about Jaskier.”

Yennefer rolled her eyes obviously. “As you are so frequently wont to do. The thaw will come soon enough, dear, and you can run off in search of your bard.”

Geralt felt his ears grow warm. Witchers couldn’t blush, not truly, but he still felt the tingle of it as he fidgeted with embarrassment. “That’s not what I meant,” he said, absently tracing a finger against the grain of the wooden table. There were two goblets of wine sitting between them, but so far neither of them had begun to drink. “Do you know how many winters it’s been since I found Ciri?”

If she was confused by the odd turn in subject matter, Yennefer didn’t show it. Instead she looked thoughtful. “Two, perhaps three? You know I don’t follow the seasons with diligence.”

“Neither do I,” Geralt agreed. “I was thinking the same though, two or three years since the fall of Cintra. Which means Jaskier is…” He paused, trying to do the math. “He was a few years past forty, during the dragon hunt, I think. He must be closer to fifty now than not.”

Yennefer raised an eyebrow at him. “I recall mentioning something about his crows feet. What of it? Humans age. Are you only just discovering this?”

Geralt forced himself not to grumble. In a way, he was only discovering it. He’d known humans across the years, of course, and knew that many that he’d once been acquainted with were no longer alive or were in their twilight years. For decades Geralt had wandered through the world, changing no more than a ghost would, touching the lives of regular mortals for a brief instance, maybe a few times if they were particularly unlucky. No one had stayed by his side, dedicated themselves to a relationship with him, the way that the bard had. The amount of devotion that Jaskier showed to him had made Geralt antsy, in earlier years, and then confused and angry by turn. He had hated the idea of someone needing him, had hated needing someone in return. The way his chest felt heavy when he and Jaskier parted ways had left him furious with himself and the bard.

And then Ciri came into his life, and everything had changed so quickly.

With Ciri, it didn’t matter whether Geralt felt like he should care for her, or if he wanted to. He needed to. Without him, the girl would die, or be kidnapped by Nilfgaard for who knows what purpose. He had to feed her, and clothe her, and teach her, and he had to love her for her to thrive.

She made it very easy. It was only afterwards that he realized how much of an idiot he’d been to Jaskier, and the thought of how he’d treated the bard over the years had plagued him. It had been months before he could find him to apologize, but Jaskier forgave him almost immediately—which Geralt found both relieving and infuriating at the same time. This was the first winter they’d spent apart since. Geralt left the keep more rarely now, heading out on the Path only when the months grew truly warm and returning at the first hint of falling leaves. Ciri was safe on her own, he knew, but he missed her when he was away. And he could admit now that one of the forces driving him back into the world over the last few years had been the itching desire to find Jaskier again and settle the yearning in his chest for another year. He was less inclined to venture forth when his bard, his daughter, Yennefer and his brothers were all in one place.

This winter Jaskier had begged off, saying that he had “work in the south,” which could mean anything from spending a decadent winter in the court of some noble or sludging through the front lines as a Redanian spy. Geralt had learned not to pry too deeply into Jaskier’s business when he wasn’t around. It was often either too explicit for him to stomach or too confidential for Jaskier to share freely.

It worried him, being away from the bard for so long. He could get hurt, or captured by Nilfgaard, or worse. But what really terrified Geralt was the idea that he would find Jaskier in a tavern along the Path and realize that the bard had grown old, to find silver in his hair and wrinkles beside his eyes. “He’s getting too old,” Geralt said to Yennefer, who looked at him with sympathetic eyes.

“You must have known when you started travelling with him that he would eventually leave you,” Yennefer said, not unkindly. “Humans are so short lived.”

“I didn’t exactly get a choice about becoming his muse,” Geralt said with a huff. Despite his improved relationship with Jaskier over the past few years, he still found it difficult to admit that he had always been more than willing to let the bard tag along. If he’d wanted to travel alone, he would have. But he never had. “I just didn’t realize…”

“It always comes sooner than you think it will,” Yennefer sighed. She set her book aside and picked up her goblet of wine, turning to look out the large window their table sat in front of. It faced west out of the keep wall, towards the mountains and the forest beyond. The sun had set below the craggy peaks, throwing the snow covered valley below into darkness. Geralt could just make out the ruins of the old tower, its stones dark against the white landscape. “You can’t cure his mortality, Geralt.”

“We did.”

The look that Yennefer gave him was sharp, almost angry. The firelight in the room turned her violet eyes darker, like mulberry wine. “At great cost,” she snapped. “I can’t imagine you would put him through the Trials.”

A stab of panic shot through his gut at the thought. “No. Of course not. He wouldn’t survive it anyways. Only children stand a chance at all.”

Yennefer nodded, apparently satisfied that Geralt hadn’t completely lost his mind. “The boy hasn’t got an ounce of Chaos in him, in spite of his rather chaotic nature, so I highly doubt they’ll accept him as a late trainee at Ban Ard.”

“There must be other ways,” Geralt said, feeling petulant. “Less conventional.”

“I cannot believe we are actually discussing this,” Yennefer said, rising to her feet. She picked up her book from the table as well as her glass. “There is no way to achieve immortality, especially not without sacrifice. You know that, Geralt. Drop this foolish line of thought.”

Geralt rose after her, reaching out to catch her retreating wrist. A grasp loose enough that she could break it, if she wanted, but Yennefer paused. “Please, Yen. Just… look into it for me? I can’t—the thought of—” He cut himself off, dropping his hand away from her arm. The look she gave him was more pitying than he would have liked.

“I’ll do some research, but nothing more. Don’t get your hopes up, Geralt. There’s a reason there are so few of us,” she said. Her face softened slightly, as much as it ever did. Despite Ciri, Yennefer was still made of more glass and fire than anything else. “I know you love him, even if you can’t admit it to yourself. I promise, I will do my best.”

Geralt nodded wordlessly as she left and wondered if Jaskier's eyes would be as bright next time he saw him.

*

For weeks Yennefer said nothing about his request, and Geralt refocused on spending time with Ciri and preparing to depart for the spring. Lambert and Eskel had already left a month before, as soon as the road down the mountain began to thaw, but Geralt had hung back. The roof needed repairs, a difficult job to do in the midst of winter, and it was a hard task to leave for Vesemir alone. It was always like this, now—him looking for odd jobs to keep him at Kaer Morhen, with Ciri, making excuses until Jaskier’s jitteriness or Vesemir’s raised eyebrows forced them on the road again. Some of that was mitigated this season by the silence he heard when he found himself listening for the sounds of lute strings strumming gently in the background, and Geralt’s increasing anxiety about Jaskier’s wellbeing. Even so, it was hard to leave Ciri behind.

The girl was progressing rapidly as she entered her teen years, the chubbiness of her youth morphing into lean if awkward muscle as she continued to work on her swordsmanship. When Geralt and his brothers weren’t pushing her through drills, she was studying monsters and alchemy with Vesemir, or practicing her magic with Yen. She never seemed to tire, eagerly absorbing any lessons passed on to her and desperate to prove her worth. The only person she seemed to let her guard down around was Geralt, who found himself often goading her into mock wrestling matches (which he refused to throw on principle) and humoring her when she became restless and wanted to explore beyond the keep. Kaer Morhen was dangerous in the winter, but as spring approached and the deep snows on the surrounding mountains began to thaw, the duo spent more and more time trekking through old ruins and sleeping beneath the stars.

He could put off his journey south no longer.

“I’m going to be fine, Geralt,” she said, rolling her eyes at him. He wondered if he’d been this petulant as a teenager. Certainly Lambert had. “I can take care of myself, and Yen will be with me.”

Geralt tapped her wooden training sword with his own, indicating that she should prepare to go again. When he was a boy he’d trained against the other foundlings, stumbling around like pups through drills and sparring matches. Ciri trained against full witchers, and only Eskel ever faked a misstep here or there to allow her to get in a good hit. When she won a fight for the first time, it would be on her own merit.

The girl raised her sword into a decent fighting stance, and Geralt moved to correct her footwork. Her sword work was exceptional above the belt, but she consistently forgot her stances, throwing herself off balance. They’d begun putting her on the pendulums to force her to focus, dancing between posts to attack the dummies. Geralt had spent many a night rubbing salve into her bruised shoulders, gained from taking fall after fall from the low poles. No one forced her, but if there was one thing Ciri hated, it was admitting to weakness in herself. “Sword up,” Geralt said, and launched into his attack.

He stayed on the offense, forcing her to practice the defensive drills they’d started going over recently. “I know you’ll be fine,” he said, continuing their conversation. His breathing was relaxed, almost meditative through the slow exchange of blows. “Just seems cruel to leave you with only the old man and Yennefer for company.”

Ciri giggled despite herself, and Geralt found himself grinning back before he smacked her lightly in the ribs with the training sword. She swore—Lambert, Geralt thought with chagrin—and danced back a few paces. “Gotta focus,” he said, still smirking at her.

She poked her tongue out at him childishly and reposted off of one of his blocked attacks. He easily swayed out of the way, but the movement was fluid and smooth, which meant someday it would be fast, faster than he could dodge. He gave an encouraging nod.

They continued to spar for another half an hour or so before breaking, heading to the well to fill their water pouches. Geralt sat on the short ring of stones and Ciri slumped on the ground beside him, leaning against his leg. The simple trust and familiarity she exhibited around him still took him by surprise, sometimes. “I’m leaving tomorrow,” he said, rubbing a hand over the top of her head. Her hair was almost as white as his.

She sighed, wiping dripping water from her chin as she tossed her water pouch down. “I figured,” she said. “Say hello to Jaskier for me, when you find him? I missed his songs this time.”

Geralt’s caress turned into a playful ruffle. “I will. Any requests for books?”

“Ones about Elves,” she said immediately, “and Skelligan alchemy. It’s different from ours, did you know? The Druids—”

Geralt chuckled. “I know. You’ve said half a dozen times. No fairytales this time?”

The girl hummed, reminding him for a brief and touching moment of himself. “Just bring Jaskier back. He tells about your adventures so much better than you do.”

“He’s certainly made a career out of it,” Geralt grumbled, feigning annoyance. “I’ll do my best. You know how he is.”

“You missed him too,” she said, hitting his knee with one closed fist. “I know you did. You get all…Well, more grumbly and mopey than usual, when he’s not around.” She wrinkled her nose up at him in exaggerated disgust. “It’s gross. But I do want you to be happy.”

Geralt knocked back against her gently with his knee, swallowing around the feelings that rose in his throat. “You just think I’m a boring old man who won’t help you put toads in Eskel’s bed. But you never even ask. I’m the expert, not Jaskier.”

Ciri laughed, bright and crisp in the morning air, and Geralt felt warm despite the fading winter chill. Tomorrow he would leave, and he would find Jaskier, and next winter he would tell Jaskier that he had to stay at Kaer Morhen. For Ciri, if nothing else. And if it was more for Geralt’s sake than anything, well, no one had to know.

*

Yennefer found him before he left, saddling Roach in the stables.

“Go to Triss,” she said by way of a greeting. Geralt knew what she meant by the gravity in her tone and the tension sitting in the corners of her mouth. “Ask after Ida. I don’t know where she is or if she’ll speak with you, but a Sage is the only one that might be able to give you anything.”

Geralt reached out to grasp her hand firmly in his own. “Thank you, Yen,” he said honestly.

The sorceress sniffed. “Well, you owe me one, I suppose. I hope you find what you're looking for. But be careful.”

“I won’t do anything that might put him in harm’s way,” he promised. “I swear it.”

“Good.” She gave him a slight smile before leaning in to brush a kiss over his rough cheek. The simple touch warmed him from inside out. “Say hello to the bard for me. Tell him I heard about that disastrous competition in Vizima. Ought to have him stewing for a good long while.”

Geralt rolled his eyes. “I’ll give him your love as always.”

“Goodbye, Geralt,” she said, patting his arm lightly. “Be safe. You know how to reach me, if you have need.”

“I do,” he said. “I will. Take care of Ciri.”

“It’s more the other way around, I’m afraid,” she said with a soft smile, and Geralt understood exactly what she meant. Ciri had saved them both, in more ways than one. Every time he left her was more painful than the last. Someday, he knew, they might travel the Path together, a witcher, a sorceress and their daughter. Maybe even a bard, if he was extremely lucky.

Geralt hoped he would be.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Spite in Misery - ao3

(rather silly AU of Delight in Misery, only even more petty and passive aggressive, and also slightly more JC/LWJ)

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

“What do you want?” Jiang Cheng asked.

“Sanctuary,” Lan Wangji said, prim and proper as he always was, the perfect untouchable iceberg as always, except maybe for the small child he was holding. “For me and my son.”

“Wait, you fuck?”

Wait, that wasn’t the right question.

“Why do you need sanctuary here?” Jiang Cheng asked, utterly bemused. “There isn’t a single place in the cultivation world you wouldn’t be welcomed –”

Except here.

“– and anyway, your brother, his sworn brothers, and your sect would demolish anyone who even thought about hurting you. Who in the world could you need sanctuary from?”

“My brother,” Lan Wangji said. “His sworn brothers, and my sect.”

Jiang Cheng stared at him.

Lan Wangji stared right back at him.

And then he collapsed.

“No,” Jiang Cheng said to the unconscious or possibly dead body currently lying across the threshold of the Lotus Pier and the small feverish-looking child in barely better state splayed out beside it. “I refuse to take responsibility for this!”

-

“You will not say anything about the room I have chosen to house you in,” Jiang Cheng said. “You will not complain about the food, the amenities, or make any requests whatsoever. Do you hear me?”

“Mm,” Lan Wangji said.

Jiang Cheng ought to have expected as much.

“And don’t think this means I’m going to like you or anything,” Jiang Cheng added self-righteously.

“I despise you with every drop of blood in my body,” Lan Wangji said.

“…so noted,” Jiang Cheng said.

After a moment, he added, “I don’t care!” and stormed out.

After yet another moment, he came right back into the room where he’d put Lan Wangji – it was just a convenient room, not specifically Wei Wuxian’s room, and if putting Lan Wangji in there meant he could delay having to clean out all the personal possessions left in there and actually repurpose it, that was his business and no one else’s – and said, “Why do you hate me, exactly?”

“Do you care?” Lan Wangji asked. He was examining the small cot Jiang Cheng had set up to put the still-unconscious and therefore nameless child on.

“Obviously,” Jiang Cheng said. “Or I wouldn’t have asked.”

“Mm,” Lan Wangji said.

Jiang Cheng waited a few moments, moments that grew longer and longer, and finally he realized – “You’re not planning on telling me?”

“I despise you,” Lan Wangji reminded him.

“Oh, you – you…!” Jiang Cheng ground his teeth together. “I’m the one giving you sanctuary, remember?”

“I came to you because you were the only one powerful enough to accomplish the task and spiteful enough to do it. I did not come here to owe you any favors.”

“Well, you’re going to owe me one anyway,” Jiang Cheng said, scowling at him. “You – you – ugh. Forget it!”

He stormed back out.

And then he realized he hadn’t actually brought the medicine that he’d intended to bring to Lan Wangji, so he had to go in and drop it off, but then he was finally able to storm away properly.

-

“I was under the belief we had agreed it would be best for us to see each other as little as possible,” Lan Wangji said, his voice even icier than usual – which was saying something.

“That’s right,” Jiang Cheng agreed, eying him warily. “I’m only here personally to drop off your medicine because it means fewer people know that you’re here.”

He’d thought that he would need to bring in a doctor for Lan Wangji’s injuries, but it turned out to be whip marks from a discipline whip and Jiang Cheng – well. Jiang Cheng knew everything there was to know about injuries like that.

Sure, he’d had to take A-Yuan to a doctor, he didn’t know shit about pediatric illnesses, but that was fine, it didn’t give the whole game away. Jiang Cheng was able to pass him off as some random sad orphan he’d taken pity on, which wasn’t far from what he suspected to be the truth.

“In that case,” and Lan Wangji’s voice was even colder, which how, “why do you live next door?”

“This was the only room available,” Jiang Cheng lied.

Lan Wangji glared death at him.

“Beggars can’t be choosers. I’m giving you sanctuary, aren’t I?” Jiang Cheng scowled. “Anyway, I told you that you weren’t allowed to complain about the room.”

Lan Wangji did not appear impressed.

“How’d you know I was next door, anyway?”

“You have nightmares.”

…right.

“I’ll invest in better soundproofing, then,” Jiang Cheng said haughtily. He wasn’t ashamed of having nightmares. After the life he’d lived, it was only to be expected.

“I don’t want to be around you at all,” Lan Wangji clarified.

“Too bad.”

“I don’t want you spending time with A-Yuan.”

Oh, so that was the real issue here. Well, in that case, the answer was still – “Too bad.”

“He’s my son.”

“He’s in my house,” Jiang Cheng said. “In my sect, in my lands, in my part of the cultivation world, which is the only reason you came here rather than literally anywhere else, remember? Because I’m a territorial bastard with a paranoid streak that won’t let anyone come look for you in here without hovering over their backs like a shadow, making it impossible for them to actually find you – sound familiar?”

Lan Wangji’s face twitched. “I did not say that.”

“You thought it,” Jiang Cheng said, and Lan Wangji’s silence proved he was right. “Anyway, I don’t care if you don’t like me spending time with A-Yuan. He’s one of the only people who can make Jin Ling laugh.”

“He wants to be his big brother,” Lan Wangji said. He sounded like he had swallowed glass.

“Okay,” Jiang Cheng said, not understanding. “Good for him?”

Brothers didn’t have to be biological, he thought, and that old pain tore through his heart the way it always did when he thought about Wei Wuxian.

“Worthless,” Lan Wangji said, glaring at him, and Jiang Cheng almost agreed with that assessment of himself – thoughts of Wei Wuxian usually had that effect – except of course it was Lan Wangji saying it, so naturally he had to disagree.

It was oddly reaffirming, actually. He might beat himself up as being worthless, useless and pathetic, a broken shell of a man who couldn’t keep a single member of his family alive, who had nothing and lived for nothing and existed purely for the sake of his sect and Jin Ling –

But the second Lan Wangji said that he was worthless, Lan Wangji who was wrong about everything, Jiang Cheng was immediately convinced that he was the best thing that had ever been invented.

Wait, was this how Wei Wuxian used to feel all the time?

No wonder he was always tormenting Lan Wangji.

-

“I brought you some books on physical rehabilitation,” Jiang Cheng announced. “No, don’t thank me - the sooner you’re better, the sooner you can leave.”

“It will not be too soon,” Lan Wangji said.

Personally, Jiang Cheng didn’t think Lan Wangji was going to be leaving for at least another year, maybe a few more years, not with that many strikes of the discipline whip to heal and his disordered qi to straighten out, but it was nice for both of them to see a destination at the end of the road in which they didn’t have to see each other all the time. Either way, he agreed, so he wasn’t going to ruin the rare moment of complete harmony by being persnickety.

“You should knock before entering,” Lan Wangji added, prissy as always.

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes. He probably should have, yes, but he always had the ‘it’s my house’ thing to fall back on. This was the Lotus Pier where the rules of the Lan sect didn’t apply, and as far as he was concerned, that was reason enough to ignore etiquette. Anyway, Lan Wangji was here alone and healing just the way he’d been doing the past few months, what exactly was he going to be doing that Jiang Cheng might walk in on –

“Oh,” Jiang Cheng said when Lan Wangji attempted, with dignity, to extract his hands from inside his clothing, which was unfortunately not something he could do subtly. “Were you trying to jerk off?”

Lan Wangji looked mutinous.

“…were you failing to jerk off?”

Lan Wangji now looked like he wanted to rip Jiang Cheng limb from limb, even though it ought to have been clear enough that Jiang Cheng would only think to ask the question because he’d had a similar issue for a while there. The time after his family had died had been brutal, and he couldn’t even use getting off as a shortcut to fall asleep because every time he tried he couldn’t keep it up; it’d been awful. He’d been terrified that he’d broken his own dick somehow, which led to worries that he wouldn’t be able to have kids in the future and thereby fail his parents and ancestors in a brand new and yet unexplored way, which led to even more panic and even less sleeping. It hadn’t been until someone (he suspected Nie Mingjue, bizarrely enough) shoved a medical treatise about trauma reactions under his door that he’d realized it was a fairly normal aftereffect and managed to calm down a little.

Nie Mingjue had also given him so much work to do that Jiang Cheng hadn’t had time to even think about that sort of thing until nearly half a year later, at which point everything was working again and he’d completely forgotten it was even an issue until halfway into the afterglow.

Good man, that Nie Mingjue.

“If it’s a symptom, you need to tell me these things,” Jiang Cheng said, taking far too much wretched enjoyment out of the whole thing. He’d give Lan Wangji the trauma book, of course – he still had it – but he had to get his wins in where he could against the perfect iceberg, cheap shots or no. “As your current attending doctor, I’m responsible for your care –”

“It is unwanted but necessary. It is simply something that I must endure,” Lan Wangji said grimly, and Jiang Cheng raised his eyebrows.

The book had covered that, too, although that hadn’t been his problem, personally.

“Oh, I see,” he said. “You keep getting hard, is that it? And then retraumatizing yourself when you try to jerk off, which means you can’t satisfy the need, which means you can’t solve the getting hard all the time problem, which in turn affects your cultivation and so your healing…yeah, I see the issue. You should probably get someone else to do it for you if you get really desperate.”

“I see no one but you,” Lan Wangji said through gritted teeth.

A problem, Jiang Cheng admitted.

Still mostly Lan Wangji’s problem, though.

“Well,” he said with the smarmiest smirk he could manage, “as your attending doctor –”

Lan Wanjgji threw a book at his head.

-

“What are you planning on doing once you’re better?” Jiang Cheng wondered.

“Why are you talking to me?” Lan Wangji replied.

“Oh come on,” Jiang Cheng said. “How can you say such a thing after taking advantage of me? I let you into my home –”

“You will not be able to rely upon that fact forever.”

“I will be able to rely on that fact for eternity,” Jiang Cheng disagreed. “I let you into my home, I hid you away from the world – which isn’t actually as easy as I make it look, just so you know! Your brother is practically scouring the earth –”

Lan Wangji looked like he’d bitten into something extremely sour.

“I’m sorry, did you think he was not going to do that? And recruit his sworn brothers to help him?” Jiang Cheng asked. “I thought the whole point of this was – well –”

“It was.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I do not enjoy hearing of it.”

“Listen, if you’re going to decide to torture someone by turning your back on them and disappearing without a word, you should at least have the guts to own it.”

“You speak from experience, I take it.”

“As a matter of fact, I do. Did you somehow forget everything that happened back then with Wei Wuxian?”

“…you were the one who turned your back on Wei Ying.”

Jiang Cheng laughed disbelievingly. “Oh, yeah, sure,” he jeered. “Because I was so well-known for my backbone when it came to Wei Wuxian. I definitely was the one to come up with the idea to throw him out of my sect and cut ties, yeah, definitely, that’s completely what happened. I mean, obviously, I always got my way when dealing with him, every time, that’s how it always was between us. He had nothing to do with it.”

Lan Wangji was glaring at him. “Not then,” he said, each word cutting like a sword. “The Nightless City.”

“You mean the time he arrogantly and completely without warning started a fight that got my sister killed and then murdered three thousand people, including some of the very few family members and friends I had left?”

Lan Wangji was silent.

“You do mean that time,” Jiang Cheng said, marveling. “Are you insane? Even if I wanted to, if I took his side then, I’d have had no claim later on to grab him as a prisoner before anyone else did. The Jin would have executed him for sure! And slowly!”

“The Burial Mounds –”

“He imploded in front of my face!” Jiang Cheng shouted. “I had to see – when he – he died! He was – he did – you don’t even know – no, you know what, I’m not talking about this. Not with you of all people; you hated him.”

Lan Wangji’s hands were fists. “I did not.”

“No? You did a good job of acting like you did,” Jiang Cheng sneered. “Always talking about how you wanted to drag him back to Gusu just because it would make you feel better –”

“Better than leaving him.”

“I did what he wanted! And yes, fine, maybe that was my mistake. Maybe I should’ve ignored what he wanted, maybe I should’ve dragged him back to the Lotus Pier and locked him in a little room for the rest of his life the way everyone knows your dad did to your mom – ”

Lan Wangji flinched.

In fairness, Jiang Cheng was exaggerating about everyone knowing. He only knew about it because he’d heard his mother spit it out at his father during one of their nastier fights, and he was pretty sure she wasn’t supposed to have known about it, either.

“– but stupid me, I thought he’d be happier being free and alone than stuck with someone he clearly didn’t want to be around him anymore! But what do I know? Maybe I should ask you, you selfish bastard. You’re the one in his position this time, you’re the one who’s doing the turning away – I bet you don’t even know what it’s like to be the one that’s not wanted.”

Lan Wangji stared down at his hands as Jiang Cheng jumped up to his feet, Zidian crackling to life in his hand despite himself, persisting even though he tried to suppress it.

“I’m going to go hunt down some demonic cultivators,” he said, trying in vain to keep his temper even a little bit and knowing it was a lost cause. “And then I’m going to bring them back here and make them scream somewhere you can hear it. You can chew on that with some glass for all I care!”

-

“You handled that last one well,” Lan Wangji said. It sounded like someone was pulling teeth from his head.

“You’re sick,” Jiang Cheng announced. “I will go get some fever medicine at once. Are you experiencing any other symptoms in addition to hallucinations? Or should I be checking for signs of possession instead?”

Lan Wangji was back to glaring at him.

“I don’t know what drove that sudden spurt of niceness and I don’t care to know,” Jiang Cheng informed him. “I don’t need your approval.”

Lan Wangji ignored him. That was more customary.

Also unfortunate, because Jiang Cheng managed to get less than half a shichen of work done before coming back into Lan Wangji’s room (not Wei Wuxian’s room) and saying, “Okay, what exactly did I do?”

Lan Wangji looked at him sidelong.

“Seriously,” Jiang Cheng said. “What did I do that was so impressive that even you approved of it?”

“The demonic cultivator. The last one.”

Jiang Cheng frowned, thinking about it. “The – stupid one, you mean?”

Lan Wangji stared at him, and then looked at the ceiling, long-suffering. “The one from Yunping.”

“The stupid one,” Jiang Cheng confirmed, and then he was ranting again because he couldn’t seem to stop ranting about it. “I can’t believe the idiot got into demonic cultivation as a way to make money! That’s just – it’s just – if I ever figure out who paid him, I’m going to rearrange their guts with my sword. Lousy rotten opportunistic…!” He coughed, realizing he’d gotten started again when he’d promised Jiang Meimei that he’d stop. It apparently got old after the sixth repetition. “Anyway, what’s so notable about that?”

“You accepted him as an outer disciple of your own sect.”

“Well, yeah. What else was I going to do with him? He’s clearly got some talent for cultivation if he figured out demonic cultivation without dying. It’d be a waste to send him back to be a fisherman or a dockworker or something.”

“You didn’t kill him.”

“I’m not going to kill someone who got into demonic cultivation as a way to raise funds to get medicine for his sick mother,” Jiang Cheng said, rolling his eyes. “The idiot’s on tomb-sweeping duty for the next year to make up for having manipulated corpses the way he did, that’s punishment enough. It’s not at all comparable to the usual sort of amateur demonic cultivator, the ones that summon corpses to torment former lovers or murder business partners or that sort of thing – those are the ones I use as an example to warn everyone else. What’s the big deal?”

Lan Wangji said nothing.

“Fine, keep your secrets. Can you watch Jin Ling today? I have a – uh – important meeting.”

“Another woman that you have no intention of actually marrying?”

“Shut up and mind your own business.”

-

“No, but seriously,” Jiang Cheng said. “What are you going to do once you’re better?”

“I don’t want to talk to you,” Lan Wangji said, his voice muffled on account of his face being firmly in his hands. “Go away.”

“Listen, we’re still neighbors, we still need to talk. There’s no point in being suddenly shy about it just because you’re still in the acceptance phase of grief in connection with the whole me helping you with getting off business –”

“Never speak of it.”

Jiang Cheng sniggered. He wouldn’t have pegged the Lan sect as having uncontrolled libidos, much less Lan Wangji, but apparently the situation had gotten truly dire. Anyway, really, getting mockery rights was totally worth an arm work-out and having to put up with Lan Wangji, the latter of which he had to do anyway.

“You really are taking advantage of me now, though! My poor virtue –”

Lan Wangji looked at him through his fingers. “You don’t have any virtue.”

“Really?” Jiang Cheng asked, suddenly curious. “I strike you as someone with a lot of experience –”

“I meant morally.”

“Oh. Hey!”

Lan Wangji rolled his eyes. “Pathetic.”

“Not as pathetic as someone who won’t answer a straight question,” Jiang Cheng said. “What’s your plan for after you’re healed? Are you going back to the Lan sect? Or start traveling as a rogue cultivator?”

“Why do you care?” Lan Wangji asked.

“I can care!”

“But you don’t. Not about my affairs.”

Jiang Cheng had to admit this was correct. “Fine,” he said. “I need a name.”

Lan Wangji frowned at him.

“For A-Yuan,” Jiang Cheng said. “It’s been a year. The kid’s as healthy as he’s ever going to be, and he’s old enough for me to shove him in with the rest of the younger generation now that we’re starting lessons back up – cultivation, swordsmanship, shooting, etiquette, all the usual. But I can’t register him in the class without a surname, and I need to know if that surname’s going to be Lan or if you plan on changing it to something else.”

Lan Wangji was frowning at him.

“I know, I know, you’re in hiding,” Jiang Cheng said. “It’s fine, it won’t give you away even if you do pick ‘Lan’. I can register him as a Yunmeng Lan instead of a Gusu Lan, the surname’s common enough that no one will suspect anything unless you make him start wearing a forehead ribbon, which I don’t think you lot do at this age yet anyway. But if you’re planning on continuing to hide from your family after you get better, you’re going to need to do something about all of that.”

Lan Wangji looked sour.

“Anyway, long story short, that’s it. Your plans, I need to know them.”

Lan Wangji looked even more sour.

“Well? What is it?”

“We will return to the Lan sect,” Lan Wangji said.

“Not that hard, was it,” Jiang Cheng said. “I knew you were just throwing a temper tantrum.”

Lan Wangji rolled his eyes.

After a moment, he said, “What do we do about Jin Ling?”

“What do you mean, ‘what do we do about Jin Ling’?” Jiang Cheng asked suspiciously. “I had to fight half of Lanling Jin for the right to raise him here, we’re not doing anything about Jin Ling – anyway, who’s ‘we’? He’s my nephew!”

“A-Yuan sees him as a little brother.”

This was true.

“They will not want to part.”

…also true.

“Moreover,” and here Lan Wangji looked especially sour, “I believe A-Yuan has taken you as something of a – second parent.”

“Well, that’s nice,” Jiang Cheng said. “He’s a cute kid. Anyway, don’t take it so personally. Kids just do that, they adopt any adult in the vicinity as their own. I mean, certainly Jin Ling thinks of you as…wait. Wait. Are we co-parenting?!”

“Mm. Took you long enough to notice.”

-

It had been a bad day, a bad week, and a bad month, and Jiang Cheng’s temper, never good, was on the verge of imploding, so naturally that was when he completely lost all self-control he might have had and marched over to Lan Wangji’s room to blurt out, “Why do you hate me?”

Lan Wangji’s hands stilled over his guqin.

“I know why I hate you, even putting aside the fact that you’re a jackass with the emotional capacity of a brick,” Jiang Cheng said. “But I really have no idea what I did to you to make you hate me.”

There were so many options, after all. He was a cruel, vicious, and bitter man – he was a terrible parent, unlikable as a friend, barely sufficient as a sect leader, and such a failure at connecting socially with anyone that he’d been blacklisted as a marriage prospect despite being handsome, young, rich, and powerful. There were so many reasons to hate him.

But he didn’t know which one was the one that made Lan Wangji look at him with disdain, even if he thought that perhaps there was slightly less of that these days than there had been before.

“I hate you because you abandoned Wei Ying when he needed you,” Lan Wangji said. “He was your brother, and you left him behind – more than that, you led the charge against him, resulting in his death.”

…that was a good reason.

Jiang Cheng wouldn’t mind being hated for that reason, actually. It was a nice change from all those people who congratulated him for having done the right thing: all those smug sect leaders that comforted him for having raised a white-eyed wolf in the family, the ones that said his actions showed that he had a good backbone and a righteous bearing, the ones that had the gall to send him gifts of congratulation on the anniversary of Wei Wuxian’s death to thank him for his contribution to the cultivation world when all he wanted was to be left alone to mourn…

“That’s fine,” he croaked. “Okay. Yes. That’s – fine.”

“Why do you hate me?” Lan Wangji asked in turn. “You said you knew.”

“Oh, that,” Jiang Cheng said. “Same reason.”

Lan Wangji stared.

Jiang Cheng shrugged. “I mean, I know you were always harsh on him when we were together at your uncle’s lectures, which was completely fair given how much he was always bothering you. But he really did try sincerely to help you when we were all the Wen sect’s camp, and in the cave with the Xuanwu – but after, in the war, when he showed up with his demonic cultivation, you suddenly turned on him even though he was just doing it to help. You kept telling him he had to stop, even though you knew he was doing so much for the war effort, and you wanted to take him back to Gusu to do who-knows-what to him…you even snatched him away during the battle of the Nightless City! I saw you. I was so afraid you were going to kill him, I completely lost my head. I looked for you everywhere – I really don’t know how he was lucky enough to get away from you that time.”

Lan Wangji stared at him.

“And then you didn’t even bother to show up to the siege of the Burial Mounds in person,” Jiang Cheng added, feeling bitter. “After I heard from the Lan sect that he escaped from you, I briefly thought that you’d changed your mind and let him go. I was counting on you to be at the Burial Mounds to support me in claiming him as a Jiang sect prisoner – I had Chifeng-zun signed on, if reluctantly, and with you leading the Lan I could’ve made a decent argument. But then you didn’t show, either you or your brother; instead you sent your uncle, and of course there wasn’t even any point in asking him, was there?”

“…I didn’t know,” Lan Wangji said. His voice sounded strangely hoarse. “I wasn’t informed. It was shortly after…”

He nodded at his own shoulder, meaning the disaster on his back. Jiang Cheng hadn’t asked how it happened – he really wanted to know, as in really, really, really wanted to know, but even he was aware that actually asking would be unbearably rude. Still, he was surprised by the timing of it. How had Lan Wangji managed to end up in the hands of his enemies then? Who had even been left to do it to him?

“Yeah, well,” Jiang Cheng said, shaking his head to try to kick away his curiosity the way he would something clinging to his foot. “You were still a bastard to him when he needed you, so I hate you.”

He frowned.

“Also, you hate me,” he said. “So I hated you back just for that. Though I guess, since your reason for hating me is valid, maybe I should stop hating you back for that?”

He considered it.

“No,” he decided. “You’re too annoying not to hate.”

“The same for you,” Lan Wangji said after an unusual hesitation.

Jiang Cheng nodded and, feeling oddly relieved at not having found a new basis for self-hatred, departs.

-

“So once you’ve reestablished yourself at the Cloud Recesses, we’ll exchange extended visits on a regular basis so the kids can see each other,” Jiang Cheng said, and Lan Wangji nodded. “A minimum of three weeks per season, whether in the Lotus Pier or Cloud Recesses, and preferably double that.”

“Agreed.”

“In the meantime, you’ll work on getting the trade agreement we hammered out through your brother and sect elders as recompense for the time you spent here.”

“Mm.”

“An agreement whose source you will be disclosing very carefully because the Venerated Triad will not hesitate to murder me if they figure out without adequate warning it was me that was housing you for all this time.”

Lan Wangji said nothing and promised nothing.

Bastard.

Still, after nearly three years, Jiang Cheng was pretty used to it.

“Okay,” Jiang Cheng said. “Is there anything I’ve left out?”

“Joint night-hunts.”

“Right, right, we’ll make a point of regularly going on joint night-hunts – wait, why are we doing that? You don’t need me to watch your back now that you’re fully healed.”

Lan Wangji’s gaze wandered.

“Oh,” Jiang Cheng said. “So we can keep having hate-sex on the regular?”

“…mm.”

“Why didn’t you just say so? It’s not like I’m doing anything else – or anyone else. Blacklisted, remember?”

“Unsurprising,” Lan Wangji said, like the bastard he was.

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, whatever. The set-up works, doesn’t it? I’m blacklisted, you’re apparently eternally pining for Wei Wuxian of all people – your taste is the worst – so who’s going to call us out on it? Go on, get out of here already. I’ll see you next month.”

-

“Well,” Jiang Cheng said, looking between the newly resurrected Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, abruptly made of an issue he had hitherto not considered based on Lan Wangji’s screaming body language. “This is. Uh. Awkward?”

[shanastoryteller]

Wen Qing says yes because all she can think of is the consequences if she doesn’t.

She probably should have spent some time considering what, exactly, the consequences of saying yes would be.

~

Wei Wuxian wants to go back to the banquet and shake Jin Zixun until the information they need falls out, but Wen Qing knows that’s a terrible idea, knows that he shouldn’t be helping her at all but he definitely shouldn’t stand in front of the whole cultivation world and threaten the Jin family for her. He asks one of the servants instead, something she wouldn’t have thought to do, but he insists that servants know everything and after a hefty bribe he’s telling them what they need to know and even turns a blind eye when they take a horse that’s been left unattended.

She’s skinny on a good day and she hasn’t seen a good day in a long time. Wei Wuxian didn’t used to be this thin, this breakable, but he is now, and she tells herself it’s a good thing because the one horse is easily able to carry both of them. He sits behind her even though he takes the reigns and she leans back into him because she’s been holding herself up for so long and she’s tired and he’s helping her, something no one has been willing to in – ever, really. She thinks she could almost count his ribs against her back and thinks if she’s alive tomorrow she’ll give him a lecture about eating properly without a golden core to nourish him.

They arrive just as a guard is raising a broken flag pole above his head to skewer A-Ning.

Wei Wuxian stops him, using a talisman to bind the man’s wrist to his own and jerking him away from her brother. Who is alive, and whole, and does not have a pole through his stomach. She’s crying when she holds him and Wei Wuxian stands between them and everyone else and looks at the guards and her people and says, “I have an idea. It’s a bad idea.”

“Your ideas usually are,” she says, but she’s still shaking at having her little brother back in her arms so it doesn’t come out as acerbic as she intended.

~

It is a terrible idea. She doesn’t have to agree to it.

She does.

They go to the nearest temple in Lanling because they need witnesses for this. The monks are confused and frightened but bear witness as she bows three times to Wei Wuxian and is bowed to three times in return.

She is exhausted and scared and is still unconvinced that she’ll live to see the sunrise, but Wei Wuxian had helped her when she hadn’t asked and saved her brother and wouldn’t let the guards stop them from leading her family from the work camp, so she marries him.

~

They go back to Koi Tower. It’s terrifying but Jiang disciples meet them and look askance at all the rest of them but don’t hesitate to obey Wei Wuxian. They surround them as they walk and if they have opinions about being told to guard traitorous Wen, they don’t voice them. Maybe the fact that they’re guarding Wei Wuxian too is enough.

They enter the banquet hall and everything is silent. She doesn’t know how to read the look on everyone’s faces and she doesn’t try. Instead she stands by Wei Wuxian’s side and does what she does best – she doesn’t flinch.

“Wei Wuxian!” Jin Guangshan shouts, appalled. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Sect Leader Jin,” he says, offhand, casual, as if having his hall filled with Wen is a perfectly ordinary occurrence. “You’re so good at throwing parties. I was hoping you would throw one for me.”

Jin Guangshan’s eyes narrow. “Why would we throw a party?”

“Well, it is my wedding day,” he says, and holds out his hand. Wen Qing places her hand in his, lets his other hand settle warm and proprietary at the small of her back. “My wife, Wen Qing. We were just married at the temple in Lanling. Feel free to question the monks if you don’t believe me.”

The silence breaks, everyone shouting now, and A-Yuan’s cry cuts through all of them.

She hadn’t known that Wei Wuxian had any experience with children, but he turns automatically, opening his arms, and Granny barely hesitates before placing A-Yuan into them. After all, if they can’t trust Wei Wuxian, they’re all dead anyway.

A-Yuan, astonishingly, quiets instantly as Wei Wuxian bounces him in his arms, settling his head on his shoulder and sticking his thumb in his mouth.

“You,” Wen Qing turns, sees Jiang Cheng looking between them, and she could probably read the look on his face but she doesn’t want to. “He’s your – you have a – was it when we, after Lotus Pier?”

She and Wei Wuxian glance at each other, and maybe this marriage will work out, because that one glance contains a whole conversation of things they can’t say. The timeline almost works. A-Yuan likely was conceived sometime around the fall of Lotus Pier. If there is a child, Wei Wuxian’s actions become more understandable, seem less like an act of war and something closer to what they really are, an act of love.

She could have, she supposes, laid with Wei Wuxian and gotten pregnant and bore a child in the years since they’ve seen each other. She didn’t, but the only ones who know that are either dead or just as desperate as she is for this to work.

Or. Well.

Jiang Yanli’s face is easier to look at, even as it does something complicated then smooths. She was there and awake while they all recovered with her and Wen Ning. She knows that she and Wei Wuxian didn’t have any sort of epic romance, or even a quick tryst, during that time. Wei Wuxian was so obsessively focused on helping his brother that the idea he’d have paused long enough for sex when he hadn’t for sleep or food is ridiculous. But Jiang Yanli meets her gaze then pointedly lowers her eyes and something like relief trickles down Wen Qing’s spine.

Wei Wuxian looks around the hall and if he hesitates over Lan Wangji, that’s a conversation for them to have later, if there is a later.

“Sect Leader Jiang,” Wei Wuxian says quietly, formally, and Jiang Cheng nearly flinches before catching himself. “Meet my son. Wei Yuan.” He lets that echo through the hall and then says, “I could not leave him, nor the woman who bore him, nor the family that raised him when I remained in ignorance.”

She lowers his gaze as if in shame, for having a child out of marriage, for keeping that child from his father, but mostly she can’t stand to see the look at Jiang Cheng’s face any longer.

~

There is intense debate among the clans. The Lan and surprisingly even the Nie vote against the Jin and agree for the Wen to be released to the custody of the Jiang rather than the Jin. What’s the difference between one great clan and the other, after all, and Jiang Cheng fights for this, fights for them, and Wen Qing knows he’s really fighting for Wei Wuxian. Their marriage makes things too complicated, like they’d hoped. A-Yuan makes things too complicated, and everyone in the hall mostly seems to want to go back to drinking. There is some poorly hidden sentiment that if Wei Wuxian wants a war bride he should be entitled to her, for his contribution to the war, perhaps, and Wen Qing hates these people. They do not call her and her family tribute but they imply it easily enough.

If the price of the lives of her family is her pride, that’s fine. She abandoned that a long time ago.

~

“You have been good for him,” Jiang Yanli tells her a month after they’ve moved into Lotus Pier, a month of being the wife to Wei Wuxian and the mother to the now Wei Yuan. She doesn’t do a particularly good job at either of these roles, she thinks, but Wei Wuxian makes a good husband and a good father and it was his idea but she can’t help but feel guilty, can’t help but think she stole for herself and her family what was meant for someone else.

Her sister in law’s words aren’t wrong, however. She doesn’t let Wei Wuxian drink so much anymore and forces him to eat. She’s there in his bed when he gasps awke from nightmares and when he can do nothing more but clutch his chest and weep. She gets the story of the Burial Mounds from him, eventually, and she doesn’t know how to heal that kind of trauma, but she holds him when he cries and thinks even if she can’t be a proper wife, she can do this, and she heals the damage demonic cultivation does to his meridians, and it seems like such little things, comparatively, but it helps.

She’s offers up the excuse that demonic cultivation makes using his sword difficult and people stop asking him to carry it. A-Ning sticks to Wei Wuxian’s side when she can’t, looking faintly sad whenever Wei Wuxian makes an unhealthy choice, which is even more effective than her scolding, although not as effective as getting A-Yuan to place his chubby hand on Wei Wuxian’s cheek and go, “Baba no.”

Without so many nightmares, with having people around he can talk to freely, with no one pestering him about his sword, Wei Wuxian shoulders all the responsibilities of first disciple and brother of the clan leader, something he apparently hadn’t been able to do before.

She knows what the rumors say. Those that had been against her and her family being set free, relatively speaking, are now patting themselves on the back. Clearly the fearsome Yiling Patriarch has been cowed by marriage. His bastard son, who he loved enough at first sight to legitimize, has softened his sharp edges.

Wen Qing knows that’s all bullshit and Jiang Yanli does too, but.

He is better.

Jiang Cheng can’t seem to decide between being relieved and grateful at having his brother back and resentful that it took Wen Qing to bring it about and – whatever his feelings about her are, and her marriage to his brother are, which she doesn’t know because she refuses to acknowledge them.  

“I’m glad,” she says quietly.

Her sister in law squeezes her hand, and Wen Qing squeezes back, and if this isn’t exactly the life she wanted, well. It’s a life. That’s more than she thought she’d have.

She has a loving husband and an adorable son and living, healthy family. There is nothing for her to complain about.

Just because it all feels stolen, just because it all feels like something she never should have been given, doesn’t make it less good, doesn’t make it less hers.

~

Wen Qing knows that Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are in love with each other because she has two functioning eyes. She’s known that since she was a teenager in Cloud Recesses.

She had not wanted to come between them. She hadn’t planned on it. This all hadn’t even been her idea.

She’s guilty enough about it that she ignores her own feelings.

At first, she doesn’t have any, not really. Then it hadn’t been right.

She’s never felt greedy before. She doesn’t like it but she doesn’t know how to stop it.

~

They’ve been married for over a year the first time Wei Wuxian kisses her.

They’ve been married nearly two years the first time Wei Wuxian kisses Lan Wangji.

Something settles in her then, relief burrowing into her bones. Lan Wangji comes to her after, a combination of desirously happy and mortified, and bows to her and looks her in the eye when he tells her that he’s in love with her husband.

“I know,” she says kindly, “he’s easy to love.” She pauses, then says, “I do not mind. If it’s you.”

His lips part, and she holds the place that should be his, married to Wei Wuxian, but.

She can share, if he can. Even if it can’t be official, on paper, she and Wen Ning can bear witness to him and Wei Wuxian bowing to each other and maybe she’ll finally be able to breath when she can give back some of what she stole.

~

There are rumors about the three of them.

They don’t listen to them.

A-Yuan calls Lan Wangji his father and no one corrects him and that’s good enough for her, really.

It’s a good life, and it’s hers, and she’s glad of it.  

[absolutelyfizzing]

hole-y

George x reader angst/fluff

description - Y/N and the Order head out to deliver Harry to the burrow on the night of his seventeenth birthday. Chaos ensues and when you reach the burrow, you couldn't be more thankful for your friends and family being safe.

warnings - minor talk of gore and injuries, death, general warning for george being an absolute angel. Fem pronouns and reader gets picked up

A/N - so this is the first time ive posted in like months i think which is a little crazy, im so sorry for the delay. This is something that i just really wanted to write, i will be posting some requested writings soon as well as hopefully some more writings outside of just harry potter and marvel. 

word count - about 3600

MASTERLIST

You were terrified. The feeling in the pit of your stomach made you want to cry but you pushed it down. There were bigger matters at hand. Bigger things to worry about. One of those things being the possibility of you never seeing your best friend or your boyfriend again. The thought made you shake and when you looked over at Fred and George you knew they were thinking the same thing.

You had been friends with the twins since as long as you could remember. Well actually, you had disliked them when you first met them, they were much too loud for you to get along with and they frustrated you to no end but you somehow had all of you classes and activities with them. They accidentally let loose a prank on you in your third year and you screamed at them before going up to the astronomy tower and crying. They followed you a few minutes later and apologized and sat with you until you stopped crying. Actually they stayed with you until they could make you laugh. From then on, you had a soft spot for the twins and the same happened to them.

You didn't know when you started to have romantic feelings for George, he always said that he started to feel something for you when he was in fifth year and you sneezed so hard you made a nearby owl fly away. You thought that was rather ridiculous but it made you blush all the same. You started dating in sixth year when Fred nearly shoved you two into a closet and told you he wouldn't let you out until you talked to each other about your feelings. Since then you had been the happiest you had ever been in your life and you were forever thankful to Fred who took 100% credit for your relationship. They were your family, all the Weasley's were. Now, looking at everyone you loved in a room, you felt worry rise in your throat. No, worry wasn't the right word. Terror.

George pulled you into his side and he kissed the top of your head deeply.

"I love you. You don't have to do this." He mumbled into your hair and you sighed.

"You know just as well as I do that we both have to do this. It's okay, I'll be with Moody. He won't let anything happen to me." You muttered and then turned so your face was pressed into his chest. "But I love you too." You whispered and a tear fell from your face and into George's shirt. You then pulled away and pulled Fred into a hug. He groaned dramatically.

"No, I'm hugging you. No complaining." You grumbled and he complied, his hand going around your back and smoothing out your hair. You knew he was looking at George, some sort of twin telepathy going between them but you didn't care. When you pulled away, both of them smiled gently at you. Then before you knew it, the polyjuice potion was being passed around. You gave one last look at George and drank the potion and he did as well. It was the worst tasting thing you'd consumed in a long time and as you were keeping yourself from throwing up at the taste you felt yourself get a bit taller. You looked to your side to see two more harry's. You smiled at them and began to change your clothes.

You had agreed to go as Harry with Moody, Mundungus would also be there as himself. You had decided to switch last minute. You all walked out of the house as the minutes ticked by waiting for Harry's protection charm to end. Eventually you all were off with one last longing glance at George.

The battle was one that would haunt you for the rest of your life. As soon as you left there were death eaters on you. All you could do was hold onto your broom for dear life, Moody on the broom behind you and Mundungus on a separate broom right next to you. Before you could think, there was green all around you and screaming from every direction. You just focussed on getting to the Weasley's, a route you knew by heart, and let Moody do the protecting. At some point you looked to your right and Mundungus was gone. When you looked to your left you were horrified to see the dark lord flying next to you. Tears came to your eyes at the realization that you would probably not be making it out of there. Moody quickly began sending spells his way but it was not an even fight. He held off Voldemort for an impressive amount of time but all good things end. You heard the killing curse and saw the green light and you expected it to hit you, you were the target. Somehow Moody got in front of you to stop you from getting hit and you screamed. When Moody's body fell from the broom, yours did too. You hit the ground with a thud and your body immediately screamed in pain. You looked to the side of you and saw Moody's body. Tears were falling from your face but the shock running through you prevented you from feeling whatever damage you took from the fall. You took a breath and gathered yourself. You needed to get out of here. You would have time to scream and grieve later if you made it out of this alive. The death eaters obviously thought you to be dead and Voldemort had fallen back for some reason. You feared it was because he realized you were not the real Harry. Your tears stopped, face hardened, and you stood with slight difficulty. You would have to get to the Weasley's and you prepared yourself to apparate. When you did, your aim had been a bit off. You were in the bog outside the burrow and you could see the light in the distance. There was a panic at the house and you realized that the others had all arrived. Despite the pain in your legs, you began to sprint to the burrow. You noticed that you were yourself again, your hair getting in your eyes as you ran.

"Y/N?" You heard Remus yell and you kept running. Someone pulled you into them and you looked up to see red hair. You had arrived at the burrow and the tears had begun as well.

"Fred, Moody is dead. Voldemort killed him. Mundungus disapparated right at the beginning, I don't know where he went. It was just me and Moody and then he just-"

"Shhh, hey you're safe now, it's gonna be okay." He muttered and you noticed the break in his voice. You suddenly realized that you didn't feel George near you. You pulled back quickly. "Living room" Fred stated and you headed in, Fred following behind you. When you saw George though, you were not filled with relief. In fact you were so filled with dread that you thought you might just throw up.

"Is he..." you whispered. You couldn't finish your question, dreading the answer.

"m' not dead" Came a whisper from the man you loved and tears began streaming down your face as you collapsed next to him and buried your face in his chest. Your breathing was rapid and your heart was racing. It only slowed when you felt a familiar hand brushing through your hair.

"Fred, I'm saintlike." you heard George whisper and you looked at him questioningly but he was looking across the room to his brother. Fred looked concerned and dropped down next to you, a hand going to your back.

"What's wrong with him? Is his mind affected?" Fred asked his mother worriedly. You were also looking to Molly for reassurance but she looked just as concerned as you.

"Saintlike. You see...I'm holy." George spoke again and all attention was on him. "Holey, Fred. D'you get it?" The relief that you felt was overwhelming and you laughed deeply before burying your face once again into the chest of the man you loved.

"Pathetic. Pathetic! With the whole world of ear related humor before you, you go for 'holey'?" Fred laughed with you, his voice cracking with emotion and the tears streaming down your face were now happy ones. You were so thankful that the man you loved was okay and unchanged besides the trauma he would likely carry. And of course that he only had one ear.

The rest of the night would go by in a blur. You were debriefed by Remus who tried to be as gentle as possible in his questioning. You did not leave George's side and neither did most of the Weasley's. However hours later you still hadn't moved or eaten, too scared to leave George. Enough time had passed that everyone told you George was out of the woods and most people had gone to bed. You couldn't leave though. Molly walked toward you, a plate full of food with her. George was asleep and you were staring at him fearfully, making sure that his chest was moving with life.

"You need to eat, dear." Molly whispered and you sniffed a bit.

"I cant." Was all you could say and she sat next to you.

"Well either you need to eat or I will wake George up so he can make you." At this you looked at her. She had unshed tears in her eyes and you suddenly tackled her in a hug.

"I'm so sorry, Molly." You whispered into her neck where she was holding you.

"What on earth are you sorry for?" She asked.

"I'm sorry I couldn't protect him and that I wasn't here to help when he got here. I'm sorry I didn't convince him not to go. I'm sorry-"

"Hey, stop." She asserted and you did, pulling back to look at her. "Now you know why you went. George went for the same reason. You were both very brave and it could have been either of you who got hurt out there. Now you are both alive and okay and so are the rest of my children. I will be thankful for the rest of my life for that. But I still seem to have a kid who isn't taken care of and I need to make sure that she is. So will you please take a breath-" she paused to wait for you to take a deep breath, which you did, "and eat something. Or else I fear my son may have a heart attack when he wakes up. Okay?" she questioned and you sniffled and wiped your nose.

Making one last glance at the movement of George's chest before looking to Molly and nodding. She handed you the tray of food that instantly comforted you and she sat with you while you ate. You were both silent but you were thankful she was there to watch over George while you were distracted. When you were finished she took your plate and stood.

"Now I am going to get some rest. You should consider doing the same." She whispered and patted your hair. You watched her walk to her room and you looked back to the man in front of you.

You weren't sure how long you were sitting there but by the time you came out of your trance to a hand touching your face the fire was nearly out. You looked up at George and he looked sad.

"Are you okay, baby? Do you need anything?" You started to stand up, worried he was uncomfortable. He pulled you down on top of him on the couch and you squirmed, worried you would hurt him.

"Honey, I need you t' stop moving and let me hold you please." He sounded serious so you stopped trying to get off of him. Instead you sighed and moved to straddle his hips and then lay the rest of your body on top of him, your head going to his chest. "Thank you." he whispered. You lifted your head to look at him and he had tears in his eyes.

"Are you in pain, bubs?" you tried to be quiet so you wouldn't disturb the peace in the room.

"No. I'm just glad you're okay." He whispered and a tear fell. You reached up to brush it off and you smiled at him.

"Of course I am, you're the one who got hit by a spell." You reassured but he shook his head.

"You're right that I'm the one that got hit by a spell but Voldemort tried to kill you. You could have died tonight, Y/N." He seemed so sad but you didn't know how to comfort him. You hadn't really thought about it since you got to the burrow, too focused on George. You had yet to really process the fact that Moody had died to save you and without his sacrifice you would not be here with your boyfriend.

"I didn't though. I'm okay." You moved up a bit to kiss the cheek on the side furthest from his injury. "We are both okay." You put your head in his neck and sighed deeply. He took a deep breath into your hair and wrapped his arms around your back.

"We are never doing that again." He grumbled and you chuckled.

"Really? I was planning on taking some polyjuice tomorrow, maybe having another go at it." You smiled and he rolled his eyes.

"I thought I was supposed to be the comedian."

"Not when your last joke was 'holey'. Your comedian title has been revoked."

"Oh shut it, I'd just taken a curse to the head, give a guy a break." He smiled but you both stopped and the smiles dropped while remembering the reality of the situation. "How long have you been up watching me?" he asked gently and you sighed, preparing for your scolding.

"Probably 6 hours or so."

"SIX HOURS? You haven't slept since you got back? Darling you need to go to bed, why on earth did you stay up that long?" he practically screeched and you shushed him as best you could so he wouldn't wake the whole house. You didn't answer his question, instead looking at his chest. "Y/N why wont you sleep?" He asked again, this time more seriously. You felt tears come to your eyes.

"I couldn't-I had to-" you were cut off by your own tears.

"Hey, bubs, whats wrong? I'm sorry, didn't mean t' upset you, bunny." You shook your head at the thought that he had made you cry.

"I was just worried that-" You paused to take a breath, "I thought if I went to bed I might wake up and you wouldn't be..." You felt him shush into your hair. He hadn't really thought about it that way and he felt bad for keeping you up like that.

"Bunny, I am fine. I pinky promise." He pulled away to do just that. As your pinkies were interlocked he made decisive eye contact with you. "I promise nothing bad is gonna happen to me if you sleep, okay?" You nodded a bit and he leaned in to kiss you. "How about we both go to sleep and you can stay right on top of me so you can be with me if anything happens." He mumbles against your lips and you nodded again. He pulled you snuggly into him and put a hand on the back of your head to hold you there.

"I love you." You whispered into his chest, not even necessarily trying to get him to hear.

"I love you too, bunny. Now you need to shush and get some sleep." You huffed and finally settled into him. He couldn't sleep for much of the time you did, he could never admit it but he was quite scared as well. He shared your fears. He was worried he would wake up and you would no longer be with him. He got bits of sleep now and then but he couldn't sleep through the night. You stayed asleep on top of him until he saw the sun come up. He knew you were vaguely awake as your breathing wasn't as slow and you curled into him tighter.

"M' gonna get up to make us some tea, yeah?" You nodded slightly and he took that as an okay to get up. He picked you up gently and brought you to sit on the counter in the kitchen. His head didn't seem to hurt at all which surprised him a bit but he knew his mother was a gifted healer and she worked her magic on him to make sure he would feel okay the next day. He tried to step away from you to make some tea but you did not release him. Instead he was trapped standing in front of the counter, you clinging to him tightly. It was at that moment that the other twin decided to come into the kitchen.

"How's the hole?" He nudged George with his elbow and he chuckled.

"Not bad at all, don't even really have a headache." He muttered, still trying to be moderately quiet as you seemed to be in a half asleep state and he knew you needed all of the rest you could get.

"She doing okay?" Fred whispered, nodding toward you.

"Restless night." George replied and Fred nodded in understanding, moving to prep the tea for George seeing as he was trapped at the moment. When the tea was done, George rustled you awake slightly. "Would you like some tea, m'love?" You nodded and moved to sit up a bit, releasing George and catching Fred making gagging noises next to you.

"Oh shove off." You grumbled and he chuckled. You made a move to get off the counter and George grabbed your waist to assist you. As soon as you were on the ground you made your way over to Fred to hug him properly. You were just so relieved that your favorite people made it out of yesterday alive and Fred sighed and hugged back.

"Y/N, this is 3 hugs in 24 hours. I'm starting to worry about your head. There isn't a hole in it is there?" Fred questioned and you rolled your eyes. You lifted your head and turned it to look at the other twin across the kitchen who stood with tea in his hand, gazing at both of you with a calm and content look on his face. You smiled at him before releasing his brother who gave your hair a ruffle as you turned to look up at him.

"Thanks for being okay." You smiled at him and his gaze softened a bit.

"Right back at you."

The rest of the morning was spent drinking tea and talking, thankful just to be alive. As the family woke up there was more relieved exchanges without the shock and stress that had been present the night before. You rarely left George's side besides to let him get changed and have a private talk with his brother. Eventually Ginny dragged you away to get you cleaned up and changed into clothes that weren't covered in blood and grime. As you walked away the boys began to gather around George. Ron looked at the twins expectantly with a glint in his eye.

"Well? Show us then!" He got out a bit excitedly. Harry smiled as well and Bill seemed to have some jitters. George smirked before a ring appeared in his fingers. It was modest but it was all he could afford and he knew it wouldn't make a difference to you anyway. The boys all shoved each other in excitement and Fred clasped a hand on George's shoulder.

"I know you know this already but I just want to remind you that if you hurt her, all of us wouldn't hesitate to beat you to bits." He smiled but there was not so much humor behind his statement. The rest of the boys mumbled in agreement. George gave them all a look.

"Okay, first of all, I nearly died yesterday. I think you could all stand to be a bit nicer to me."

"We all did, get over yourself buddy." Bill joked and George rolled his eyes.

"Second of all, How come I'm the one getting threatened? I'm your brother."He looked around the group.

"'Cause she's the favorite, obviously." Ron stated simply before leaving the group, Harry and Bill following him, both giving George a teasing smile before they left.

"I think that was rather rude." George grumbled, though there was no malice behind it. He looked over at his twin who simply shrugged and patted him on the back.

"Just the way it is. If you two were to break up, I'm pretty sure she's the one who stays in the family." Fred winked before heading out of the room as well and George took a second to look at the ring in his hand. He heard footsteps and quickly shoved it into his pocket. You appeared in the doorway, hair matted down with water and in comfy clothes, fuzzy socks adorning your feet.

From the doorway you smiled at George who beamed back at you. You felt around in your pocket for a moment where your hands were shoved and when your hand hit the hidden ring there you let out a breath. You stared at each other for a moment, just content to be near each other without thinking about the war for a moment, warm light filling the room and calm in the air, both planning on later asking the other to spend the rest of your lives together.

[megthemewlingquim]

someone new.

summary: there's an art to life's distractions.

pairing: eventual hades! loki x persephone! reader

warnings: implied smut, alcohol consumption

a/n: here it is, the first part of foreigner's god. as said in this fic's masterlist, these will not be chapters, but rather short stories and one shots that can be read separately or as one whole piece. it's up to you.

i plan to base each part off of one or two hozier songs. this is inspired by "someone new".

is there a right way to fall in love?

    that’s what loki asks himself every day — well, every night — when he spends his free time at bars and gatherings. populated widely with fellow gods, goddesses, and spirits of many colors and passions; these bars are perfect places to find someone new.

    being the god of death, however, puts loki at a bit of a disadvantage. yes, the stereotypes are, unfortunately, true. loki is dark, a little antisocial, and very quiet. beautiful in appearance — death is seductive, at least to the willing.

    ‘the willing’ being many a spirit, many a dryad or goddess or creature who wants bragging rights, or a little nightly thrill. ‘that’s right,’ they say, ‘i had a little dance with death last night.’

loki doesn’t mind the mornings when his temporary partners talk about the nights, but he always cringes when they mention that accursed french phrase — la petite mort. it’s a joke to them. a mockery.

   yet, they stay, and sometimes, they come back for another little death.

    the spirits and goddesses never make a big impact on him. he is with one for a night, then another for a night, and so on. he falls in love every day with someone new and it’s a bore. a bore and a drag.

    dark caresses don’t do much to numb the pain: the pain of loneliness and solitude. the ache in his heart is constant, tearing at his mind whenever it can. alcohol can't do much either — all gods have a very high tolerance. mead was made for them.

   so loki is left with no escape besides those that come from the willing. little deaths. they make him feel loved.

   no...

   no one loves death. some crave him. but they don't love him.

   that’s the common theme running through loki’s head every time he takes someone home with him, or goes upstairs with them to the top floors of the inns he’s at, where the bedrooms are. it’s a distraction.

   however, the cycle ends when, while pointlessly wandering around his usual bar, he sees someone new one night. you.

   you radiate this... this warmth that he’s never felt before. everyone around you seems to be affected by it too - they don’t treat you as the life of the party, but they do gravitate towards you like birds to a nest. 

    and you’re quite shy, but infectiously happy and cheerful. you’re so beautiful, with your bright eyes that he knows are wide and filled with wonder, and your lovely skin that he knows is so soft. and your smile that he knows is so comforting to all who see it.

   to everyone else, you feel like they’ve just wandered into a happy memory, or a sun-lit room that’s pleasantly warm and golden. you feel familiar. ordinary, but lovely all the same.

   to loki, you feel... feel like something he’s only experienced in dreams. so, really, he’s never felt it before in his immortal life: something warm and alive and... and anticipatory. like there’s new things about to come up to the surface — flowers, new animals, maybe. you give off a sense of... he can’t describe it well. a slow and joyful awakening something.

   and you also feel completely and utterly powerful. unstoppable. he’s terrified of you, and yet he’s drawn to you. you’re so fascinating, strange. not as if you could end the world, no, that’s his own job. but it’s as if you can bring the whole world to life, raise it back up again after the chaos fades.

   you feel like spring. like rebirth. like new life.

   and that’s when it hits him.

   persephone. he’s heard the name passed around before, but before now, he has never seen the face behind the name. something about this sparks some fear in him: how would persephone, goddess of spring, daughter of demeter, react to seeing anyone even remotely like himself?

   for a moment, he’s grateful that you’re not looking at him; you’re actually looking at the table, at the drink you’re sipping. there’s a look on your face that isn’t bored, nor afraid. maybe... observant.

   people are around you still. not crowding, but not interacting with you either. it’s like you have a bubble around you, keeping everyone from getting too close. maybe it’s your doing but maybe it’s theirs. honestly, you’d think that dryads and gods and goddesses and spirits of all forms and colors and subjects would be more accepting.

   he pities you. you seem lonely.

   loki takes a few steps forward, betraying his own fear. like the red sea, the crowd parts. some are bold and unafraid, and they give loki varying looks: disgusted, seductive, snarky. you don’t notice him until he sits down in front of you, at the other end of the table.

   “hi,” he says calmly. he manages a small smile. “you’re new here, aren’t you?”

   your eyes lift to lock with his own. immediately, you recoil just the slightest bit. he knows what you’re thinking: wait, that’s hades! god of death... wh-why is he talking to me?

   “it’s alright,” he soothes. “don’t worry. you’ve probably heard of all the stories: gods kidnapping and doing terrible things to goddesses and spirits and dryads. i’m not here to do any of that. i promise.”

   with a single, somewhat confused blink, you nod. “m-my mother has told me a lot about that stuff,” you say slowly, as if saying anything too revealing will somehow alert demeter and get you in trouble. “she’s... she’s terrified...”

   “what is she terrified of? that those terrible things might happen to you?”

   “yes,” you say. “she’s told me that she’s had nightmares in the past. specifically about you. how you’ll kidnap me and take me to hell to live with you.”

   he laughs at that - a rich, amused laugh that takes the shivers out of you. “that’s bullshit. overprotective mothers, yeah?”

   you shrug. “she loves me.”

   “and are you afraid of me, princess?” the last word is whispered. his voice extremely soft - it’s a curious question.

   he notices how you lick your lips. “no,” you say. he notices how your eyes flick all over him. “no, i’m not.” and you seem truthful.

   “smart girl,” he says with a grin. “i hate liars. there’s not a god on in the world that’s ever been truthful. well, besides jesus. yahweh. whatever you wanna call him.” loki leans back, crossing his hands behind his head and bringing his feet up to the table. “your father, though... he’s the worst of ‘em. having children with other women, including your mother, while hera has to sit by and watch, and then lying about it.”

   “we’re gods,” you say. “i'm not trying to justify things but... we’re far from perfect.”

   “damn right we are. we’re fucked up. good. we can agree on something. most days, people think us gods are... perfect things. role models. and, maybe some are. but not us. not the gods of olympus.”

   he pauses, takes a swig from a beer bottle that was not in his hand a few seconds ago. “i was wondering if you wanted to do what humans do.” loki winces at the awkwardness. “when they're... y'know. interested in someone.”

   “you're interested... in me?” you ask, incredulously.

   “yeah, i am.” one sip of beer has loosened his tongue. or maybe that's just his confidence soaring now. “maybe this hasn't been the best introduction to things but i would love to take you out sometime. show you things.”

   “my —” you swallow. “i'd get in trouble.” you shrink away just a bit.

   his smile fades and it's replaced with a sadder, more sincere look. “the best things in life have risk to them. it's time i show you that.”

   and really, he does feel sorry for you. it's your first time at a bar, you're lonely. no friends as far as he can tell. an overprotective goddess mother.

   “think of it this way. i think you're very pretty and i like your honesty. i would like to help you see the world, and to have a little fun, since your mother has obviously never let you do anything in your very, very long life.”

   “i'm twenty—one.”

   “and now i'm wondering if demeter actually has you tell people that, as if you're a teenage mortal.” loki shakes his head, disappointed. “that's pathetic. you're a bajillion years old. you're a goddess! you should be able to do whatever the fuck you want, right?”

   when there's no answer from you, he sighs. leans forward to sit normally, putting both of his elbows on the table and pointing his hands at you. “alright. i'll roll with it for now. you're twenty—one. i guess. you can drink. you can go out alone to bars and other places. you can meet new people. you're an adult. think about that.

   “so, again. i think you're very pretty and i wanna show you around. get to know you. would you like to do that with me?” he raises his eyebrows a little, waiting for a response.

   it's an eternity before you can win a battle in your mind. slowly, you nod, giving him a smile. “yeah,” you whisper. “yeah, i would. thank you.”

   “don't thank me just yet, sweetheart. i haven't shown you anything yet.” he gets up, pushes his chair in.

   before he leaves, he winks at you. “call me loki. it's... not as dreadful... as hades. and... what do i call you?”

   you say your name, your voice quiet.

   “much better than persephone, i think. it suits you. we'll keep in touch, ok?”

   “okay,” you say. butterflies are flying rapidly in your stomach.

   loki leaves you there. he'd much rather take you back to your home himself, but that would be too risky for the time being. for now, he walks out of that bar feeling like the king of the world.