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royaltysuite · 1 year

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Behave! (A Park Jung-gil NSFW Oneshot)

Summary: Y/n never ‘liked’ working with or around Jung-gil. Each time, they did their best to irritate him to no end. However, word soon reached the Director about Y/n’s antics, so she decides to punish Y/n by sending them off to an abandoned house with Jung-gil in hopes that they’ll get along with one another. However, one wrong move from Y/n snaps the last thread holding Jung-gil’s sanity together and he makes it very clear who’s in charge……

Warnings: SMUT, just pure filth, rough sex, hate sex, oral receiving (male), slapping, spitting, degradation, dacryphilia, a bit of breath-play, over-stimulation, possessiveness, etc.

Word Count: 1.9k

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“HEY, HEY, HEY, HEY, HEY!” The loud, annoying chattering of Y/n echoed loudly as they followed behind the Escort Team’s leader, Park Jung-gil, as he strolled through the empty corridor towards his office. “HEY, you brick wall, you don’t know how to greet a colleague? Wow…….” That was just the first encounter of many to come.

A week later, their paths crossed once more in a hospital. “Hey, rookie, you good?” Y/n asked Jun-woong, who collapsed on the floor 10 feet from his hospital room. They didn’t get a chance to answer when he was suddenly grabbed and flung through the hall. Jun-woong hit the wall with a loud thud, grunting in pain and letting out a stream of curses. Taking in the scene, Y/n turned to Jung-gil with an irk in their eyes. “Isn’t it against the rules to attack a fellow reaper in the World of the Living?” “Isn’t it about time for you to shut your mouth?” Jung-gil answered, growing annoyed.

After that encounter with Jun-woong in the hospital, any time Jung-gil and Y/n would cross paths, the banter would grow more and more annoying. It became too much once the Director caught word of it. Calling Y/n to her office, the Director began to format a specific punishment for them.

A couple of minutes had passed before a loud knock echoed in the garden. “Come in, Y/n.” The Jade Emperor called out, prompting said reader to enter and close the door behind them. “You called, madam?” Y/n asked, bowing their head in respect. “Yes. I’ve caught wind from a little bird that you’ve been causing a bit of mischief to a certain someone. And that someone being Mr.Park from the Escort Team. Would you like to tell me what’s going on?” She spoke, her gaze focused on the plant in front of her.

“It is just playful banter between two colleagues. Nothing too extreme.” “Hmm, while it may not be extreme, it revolves around one specific person and that cannot happen. So, instead of me scolding you with a lecture on respect for your seniors, I want you to go to this location. Once you arrive, you cannot leave until you finish the tasks. You may go now.” She explained. “Yes ma’am.” “You are dismissed.” “Yes, ma’am.” Y/n responded.

After her meeting with the Director, Y/n left to the address written on the paper given to her. It took a few hours to get there, but as they closed in on the destination, Y/n saw a figure in the distance that looked vaguely familiar. “Is that….Jung-gil? Why is he here?” Y/n mumbled with confusion. Once they got closer to the house, they parked at the end of the driveway before exiting the car. “Mr. Park, what are you doing here?” “The Director sent me here for an assignment though seeing as you’re also here, it would seem that she set us up on purpose.” He replied.

“Well then, I guess we’re stuck here together.” “What do you mean?” “She didn’t tell you? Until we can get along and be respectful to one another, we aren’t allowed to return to Jumadeung. Now, I don’t know about you but I could use a break.” Y/n spoke, shuffling to the front door and entering the house. Jung-gil sighed in annoyance before entering after Y/n.

Once inside, Jung-gil couldn’t help but feel annoyed at his current predicament. Just why was he the one to be stuck with Y/n of all reapers? “Aren’t you going to sit down or stand there like an idiot with his hand stuck up his ass?” Y/n chided. “Why must you act this way?” “Because it’s just how I feel. Is that so wrong? Should I act like you instead? All cold and frigid with no care about the world?”

“This is why no one can respect you in the workplace. You act so childish and ignorant.” He berated, frustration clear as day. “Childish?! Ignorant?! How dare you?” Y/n shouted, feeling embarrassed at his statement. Y/n stood up in a huff and marched towards Jung-gil until their chests could almost touch. “I pity the souls you had to escort. They should have been escorted by someone who they didn’t fear, like me. Tell me, in any of your past lives, were you ever happy?”

That lone remark tipped Jung-gil over the edge. Wrapping his hand around their throat, Jung-gil pressed them harshly up against the wall. “Shut your mouth!” He seethed. “Or what?” The tension grew thicker as each beat of silence grew louder and louder. Soon enough, Y/n couldn’t hold it in any longer and pressed their lips against his. The action caught Jung-gil by surprise but it soon faded into an intense lust.

Their lips moved with such vigor, it left them breathless. Soon, they pulled away to breathe. “Take them off.” “Take what off?" Jung-gil huffed, a dark look of lust clouding his eyes. "Your clothes. I want them off. Now." "Don't forget who's in charge, you filthy brat. On your knees." He barked. "Make me~" Y/n chided with a teasing smirk.

That smirk was quickly wiped off with a hard slap to Y/n's face. The pain was quick and heat pooled quickly in between Y/n's legs. "Don't make me say it again. On your knees, slut." "Yes sir." Sliding down to the hard floor, Y/n looked up at Jung-gil through their lashes with droopy eyelids.

"If you don't want this, say 정지. Do you understand?" Jung-gil stated. While they may have been crossing many lines, Jung-gil wanted to be clear about what Y/n wanted while they were still somewhat clear-headed and not wanting to take advantage of them. "I understand, but could you hurry up and fuck me already? Or will I have to do all the work by myself?" They responded.

Jung-gil scoffed and pulled Y/n into another heated kiss, letting go and allowing them to move closer to the couch nearby. Taking a seat in between Jung-gil's legs, Y/n made quick work of his pants and shuffled them down to the middle of his thighs. They slowly ran their hands against the imprint of his length prompting a sharp hiss from Jung-gil’s mouth.

"Someone's a bit sensitive~" "Shut up…" "Whatever." Not wanting to waste a moment longer, Y/n led a trail of open-mouthed kisses along his clothed cock all the way up to his waistband. Sliding two fingers in between, they pulled down his underwear and revealed what they wanted most. Eyes widening, they let out a breath they didn't know that they were even holding.

In all its glory, Y/n began to wonder if they were going to be able to stand after this. "So beautiful…" They whispered before moving in closer and taking his cock into their mouth. The sudden warmth overwhelmed Jung-gil in a rapid wave and he bucked his hips upwards gagging Y/n for a quick second.

Placing a hand on his pelvis, Y/n signaled for Jung-gil to relax a bit. It was enough to cause him to pull back just a bit before he began a shallow pace. With each thrust, Jung-gil could see a slight imprint of his length in Y/n’s throat. Just the sight of it made his cock twitch in immense pleasure. But, that pleasure was ripped away before it became too much for him to handle. “Don’t worry, big guy, you’ll get more. But, I need you to hurry up and fuck me.” They murmured, rising to their feet and stepping out of the rest of their clothes.

The sight of their naked bodies could be barely seen in the soft moonlight, but Jung-gil could easily see how flushed they looked. “Bend over.” He commanded with an authoritative tone. “Yes sir…” Y/n responded without any hesitation. They rested their body across the arm of the couch, arching their back as if they were presenting themselves to him.

Jung-gil pressed his hips against the curve of their ass, sliding his cock in between their thighs. Giving a few thrusts between the supple flesh of their thighs, he let out a soft groan before aligning himself with their entrance. “Hurry up~” They whined, but were cut off by the sudden pressure of his cock slipping past their entrance. Y/n and Jung-gil moaned loudly, the pleasure slowly building once more. “Holy shit, feel so full~~” Y/n wailed, tears pricking at the corners of their eyes. Once adjusted, Jung-gil set a languid pace to get used to the tight feeling of their hole.

However, that didn’t last for long. Jung-gil slipped out before plunging deep into them at an even faster speed. Each thrust sent shivers down Y/n’s spine as they let out short screams in pleasure. “F-fuck!!!” “So fucking good…” The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed loudly as the room got hotter and hotter. “Please, please - more!” “Who’s in charge?” Jung-gil, yanking Y/n’s head back, hissed into their ear. Barely understanding, they let out a whimpering moan in response. “Who’s in charge, baby girl? Tell daddy who’s in charge of this slutty hole~” “Y-you, daddy! You’re in charge!”

“That’s right, slut…” Tilting my head to his, Jung-gil squeezed my cheeks together before spitting directly into my open mouth. Y/n groaned deeply, the act bringing them closer to finishing. The coil in their stomach was so tight that with a sharp thrust, it snapped. Y/n came with a loud scream, eyes rolling back so far in their head all they could see was white. This triggered Jung-gil’s release and he filled their hole with warm ropes of cum. Slowly coming down from their highs, the two fell back against the couch while breathing shallowly.

“Just know that I’m still going to annoy you.” “Yeah, whatever.”

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The following weeks after their night together, Y/n stayed true to their statement of annoying Jung-gil at work. Only, just not as much as they used to. Jung-gil, on the other hand, slowly began accepting the taunts with a smirk. This didn’t go unnoticed by the Director. “I guess my plan succeeded then..” They whispered with a small smile.

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Author’s Note: After such a long while, I have finally finished up this request. I swear I’ve written and rewritten this so many times that I slowly forget how to spell words. But, that’s besides the point. I hope that you guys enjoy this and don’t forget that commissions and requests are open. They’ll be open until the end of my birthday week (ends on August 12th) so that way I can catch up on any other requests. With that being said, Stay Classy~~~

#x reader #royaltysuite #tomorrow kdrama #park jung gil x reader #tomorrow kdrama x reader #tomorrow kdrama x reader smut

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tarnishedxknight · 2 months

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“You love like a child, you know that?” It was meant to be an insult from Everard, and Luciana knew that she wasn’t supposed to speak ill of the dead, but he was technically not dead. Technically, he mysteriously disappeared two years ago, but… who was she kidding? He was never coming back. Anyway, it was supposed to be an insult, but it’s really not. It’s really a compliment, if she thought about it hard enough. It’s hard for Luciana not to want to shout ‘I love you’ at the strangers she encountered on the streets of Old Archades.

But Gabranth wasn’t a stranger she encountered on the street. Well, he was when they first met. He’d noticed Luciana selling her wares, and after she’d sung to him for a mere thirty seconds, he offered her a position tutoring little Lord Larsa in the harp. Now, though? Now, they were so much more than strangers.

She couldn’t remember the last time they kissed. The ongoing war had kept us separated for 4 months, and although Luciana was certain it wasn’t intentional on the part of his superiors, it felt unnecessarily cruel. They were supposed to be keeping this a secret, but when she heard the clanking of armor, her heart rate sped up. It’s not like anyone could sense that sort of thing, but she didn’t want to risk it.

Luciana currently hid behind one of the tall pillars in the palace that cast a long shadow. Various nobles and Judge Magisters gathered in the hall, and Luciana rocked back and forth on her heels while she waited for her lover to notice her. He was talking to Drace about something or other, but she felt like she could finally breathe again. A smile came to her lips. He was here. The rumors were wrong — he was alive.

Luciana paid special attention when Drace finished her sentence. She did not move at all, and she felt content not to. The beating of her heart and her soft breathing were the only sound behind the pillar. He was safe, and that was all she needed to know. The next thing she would hear would be her lover’s voice. She waited for him to notice her in the shadows, and when he finally was able to slip away, she took him in her arms.

“Shh! We can’t do this here,” she whispered, but she was still unable to mask her growing smile. “I can’t — there were rumors that you weren’t coming back to me… that you had been killed… I was so terrified, I couldn’t breathe… I felt like we were apart for a lifetime. Four months. Four months! It’s not fair! How could they do that to us? You have to promise me. Promise me you’ll never leave for that long again.”

__________

It was deliberate, keeping Gabranth away for so long, but not for the purpose of keeping him and Luciana apart. Emperor Gramis did not even know of Gabranth’s interest in her. Rather, he had been away collecting and assessing the most valuable asset in any war... information. As head of the Espionage and Intelligence Bureau, Gabranth was responsible for the flow of information, the dissemination or withholding of it, it’s collection and interpretation. That would provide the necessary knowledge and strategic advantages necessary for Emperor Gramis to know when, how, and where to position Archadian forces, as well as how to deal with a whole host of other issues the war had raised. All of this took time, diligence, and patience, and so he’d been away for four months straight.

Upon his return, he had immediately been in conference with Emperor Gramis. It was not as if they had not been in communication all this time, but it was expected and respectful to report in person to the emperor upon one’s return. From there, he’d spoken to Zargabaath and Drace, bringing them up to date on the state of things, to whatever level of detail he wanted each of them to be privy to. It was as he was finishing up his conversation with Drace that he noticed Luciana quite literally lurking behind a pillar. He thought that was cute, but he could not acknowledge her, not yet. He had to think of her safety, after all.

“You are right, we cannot,” he agreed, and he ushered Luciana into his office so that they might speak in private instead. It was no one’s business but their own what they discussed, and Gabranth didn’t want anyone overhearing them. He listened to her complaints, slipping off his helm and setting it down on his desk. “No, I cannot promise you that,” he said, though his tone was apologetic. “We are at war and I have important roles to play. My work will frequently keep me away, and there is little to be done about it.”

But oh, he hated to disappoint her, to see the sadness in her eyes. “That is why we must make the best use of the time we do have together,” he said. “For the time being, I have no pressing duties. I am yours. What do you wish to do?” he asked. Of course there were other work-related things he could and probably should be doing right now, but nothing required, and he’d kept Luciana waiting long enough. He owed her some attention, even if it could only be for short periods here and there.

#noah x luciana #{ for the empire } ᵐᵃⁱⁿ ᵛᵉʳˢᵉ #{ the darker corners of ivalice } ᵐᵃⁱⁿ ᵛᵉʳˢᵉ ⁻ ᵈᵃʳᵏ ᵉᵈⁱᵗⁱᵒⁿ #submission

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hansoulo · 4 years

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you’re just a bottomless pit

part one of “Pillar of Salt”

Pairing: Boba Fett/Princess!Reader (she/her pronouns, no Y/N)

Warnings: NSFW - explicit language, allusions to violence, discussions of mild harassment, mentions of being royalty, kissing, choking, light non-descriptive smut, slight elements of dubcon, boba’s a big dick gotta be what you have amirite

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: this is empire strikes back boba when he was just fucking around and finding out so i took a lot of liberties with canon don’t @ me. i offer u this picture as a helpful visual aid. merry christmas xx

༓ series masterlist ༓

Darth Vader was to be a house guest, and you promptly dunked your head underneath your bathwater.

The perfumed pool burbled for a few seconds while you groaned, listless and in the throes of dramatics, but your attendant only clucked in sympathy. Mila was long accustomed to your disdain for the Imperials who had come to occupy more and more of the palace. So, it seemed, was everyone except the Imperials.

After a long moment you emerged from below the water, droplets of it clinging to your face and trailing into your mouth. “Another Lord?” you asked incredulously, groaning even louder when the servant nodded.

You swam the two short strokes it took to go from one end of the small pool to the other, then floated bare on your back and stared up at the vaulted ceiling. “Is he the one with all the strange…” motioning towards your mouth, you made a vague gesture. “Apparatus?”

“I believe so, your Highness.”

Humming noncommittally, you let your gaze trail off for a moment and stood rightside up again before returning to the bath’s edge. Its intricate tiles were cluttered with bottles, little glass tinctures and oils and soaps that all wrapped themselves around the room in a heady, heavy incense. You inhaled deeply and sighed. Lord Vader with the strange apparatus.

You couldn’t remember a time before your father, the sovereign ruler of Quas Killam, was a puppet for the permanently stationed General and a yes-man for Emperor Palpatine. Then again, you supposed it wasn’t really his fault his planet just happened to be Mid-Rim and full of exactly what the Empire needed. Being a yes-man was probably the only thing keeping his planet intact during the civil war that was supposedly raging right now.

But it was hard to feel sympathy for a man who dressed you up like a paper doll and never let your mother talk.

A soapy sponge was brought up against your back, smelling of lavender. Closing your eyes, you let Mila’s motherly hands scrub at your shoulders and arms until the skin tingled in a pleasant burn.

You picked at the tile grouts with a polished fingernail, head swimming with rows and rows of grey uniforms and white shelled armor. “Wonder why they’re here this time,” you said, speaking softly to no one in particular.

“Princess, if I may...” the older woman began.

“You may.”

“I believe they’re building another weapons factory to supply the Empire, in the north fields. Lord Vader was invited to oversee its induction.”

You kicked your legs lazily in the water, half-asleep and lulled into slowness by the refresher’s warm steam. “And I suppose he’s bringing along an entourage?” you asked, already knowing the answer. They always did, those Imperial sorts. It was just a question of how many and for how long they decided to stay, having taken any real power from your family royalty years ago after they’d discovered the trinium mines your planet was known for.

Your title had rotted of its relevance, made even lesser by the fact that you were the youngest daughter of seven. Your infant brother was being groomed for ventriloquism and you, you were being groomed for obsoletion.

Mila’s hands, roughened by years of laundry and lye soap, rubbed warm oils into your skin. “There was talk of a bounty hunter, your Highness.”

Your eyes shot open.

A bounty hunter?

⫸ ——— ——————————————————————————— ⫷

You saw him a few weeks later, in the flurry of transport arrivals and mindless, droning ceremony. It was only a flash of his helmet, but it was enough to keep your imagination spinning for days.

Whispers from entreating servants and talk from stormtroopers that couldn’t keep their mouths shut had informed you of his reputation, his station, and his name. Boba Fett.

A particularly loose-lipped security droid regaled you with rumors of his being hired by Lord Vader, hunting a man named Han out in the Outer Rim. Quas Killam was on their way, apparently, good for information and heavy on the underworld dealings you’d always been shielded from. Truthfully, you didn’t much care. You knew no one got close to the Empire without blood on their hands. Whether they be kings or bounty hunters.

When you actually talked to the man, having been caught trying to eavesdrop on the chamber meeting he happened to be exiting the moment you leaned your ear against the door, any delusions of decorum were shattered the moment he opened his mouth. “Out of the way.”

You bristled, gathering up your skirts in a huff as you stepped away. Rude.

He was taller than you thought he’d be. Taller and broader than he looked before back on the cargo bay, a mere smudge in your peripheral vision. Now that he was alone save for you in the cavernous hallway, his words echoed on the marble tile. So much for espionage.

“My father’s in that meeting,” you replied shortly, putting on airs and doing your best to look like your mother, regal and cold.

Boba only stood there, thumbing the notches of his blaster until he caught the thin sparkle of the diadem crowning your head. A scoff, dismissive. “Then out of the way, princess.”

It wasn’t the title that bothered you. After all, it’s not like he was wrong. It was the way he said it. It was… it was patronizing! Condescending. Absolute inappropriate to a person of your station.

And, if you were being honest with yourself, more than a little attractive.

You shifted your weight onto one hip, scowling. “Don’t call me that.”

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, static-y and made even rougher by his helmet. “What? Princess.”

Stars, you heard that word a million times a day for a million different reasons. His saying it shouldn’t have felt so warm in your mouth.

Before you could volley back a reply, something equally biting and smarmy, the double doors he stood in front of began to groan open again.

“Better scram, little one.” Boba jerked his head towards the sound of your father’s advancing footsteps. “Daddy’s coming.”

⫸ ——— ——————————————————————————— ⫷

You often dreamed about what it’d be like to leave. Your title. Your station. All the bloody bores that came along with it.

But you had never even been outside the palace grounds. Probably never would, unless your father found someone willing to marry a low-ranking princess and hoisted you over their shoulder, a piece for a game you were never taught and never allowed to play. You’d already resigned yourself to that fact and half-way convinced yourself you were okay with it. But prisons were still prisons. Even if they were made of silk.

On the eve of Lord Vader's departure, everyone in the palace was preoccupied. Your father was most likely schmoozing some Imperial officer. Your mother, in bed with yet another headache. Your governess spent the day preening over your younger brother and your handmaiden was nowhere to be seen. You had a sneaking suspicion she was with one of the guards in a dark hallway.

So you slipped out behind a servant’s entrance and looked for a place to breathe.

Hardly anyone knew about this part of the palace gardens. It was sequestered behind so many winding footpaths and barely-oiled gates that the security droids never bothered patrolling past the main entrance, making it simple to duck underneath the overgrown hedges. The air was quiet; heavy-scented with all the flowers that had been planted and forgotten, left to grow wild across the footpaths and be crushed underneath your feet.

You used to come here quite often, when you were younger and it was easier to slip away. There were long spaces in your memory made of cotton, with hazy sun-soaked afternoons and the fountain that somehow still spouted out streams of cold water from the hands of a statue, some relic of an ancient ruler who had long since died. It was only a small courtyard, made smaller by the thick surrounding hedges and large chunks of cobblestone, but it felt like a whole galaxy to you.

A few minutes passed, then an hour. Two hours. A long, slow, summer stretch of day that just confirmed the fact of your irrelevance. It was filled in only by the mindless reading of your holopad and a few short naps. But better out here alone than stuck back inside, surrounded by those insufferable stormtroopers.

Maybe you spoke too soon, because a few seconds later you were toe-to-toe with Boba Fett, your back pressed to the garden wall. Stars, you didn’t even hear him walk in.

You’d think by now you would have learned to be more careful. Listening and being listened in on.

The helmet tilted up and then down, examining your sour expression. Rolling your eyes, you slumped against the ivy-covered brick, still smarting from your encounter with him a few days prior. “Why are you here?” A haughty, affected wave of your hand. “Were you sent here to fetch me?”

The man straightened out, stepping back from you with a broadening of his already broad shoulders. Chips in his armor reflected tiny bits of sunlight, little silver speckles on green armor that looked even greener surrounded by wild flora. He hunted people for a living, so the fact that you were made quick work of didn’t really bother you. Still, it was a bit disappointing. Having to go back to the palace was the last thing you wanted.

“The king was concerned for your safety.”

Oh for Maker’s sake. “You mean he was concerned for his reputation.”

“I was told to find you-”

“-and bring me back so I could sit in a parlor and be supervised like a child.”

“Princess,” he sighed.

There was that word again.

A heavy swallow bobbed the lump in your throat, your chest flushed and littering the space between your bodies in a low buzz. You narrowed your eyes, not trusting your own head for something more articulate, and spit the question out. “What?”

He motioned towards the footpath, one hand resting on his belt. “Let’s go.”

You only crossed your arms with a raise of an eyebrow, mind floating an acknowledgement that you were very much acting like a child who needed to be supervised.

“I don’t make a habit of tracking down spoiled royalty.”

No one had ever called you spoiled before.

It was sort of refreshing.

The man cut an imposing figure, you’d give him that. With the helmet and blaster and… armor and such. You weren’t even entirely sure you remembered to put on real shoes before coming out here, still slippered and in stocking feet. What a pair you must’ve made. Incongruous.

You cocked your head and leant against the wall with the fabric of your dress swishing out around your ankles. Caught by warm, humid winds, its layers separated themselves into thin sails before falling down together again. Rhetorical questions were blooming alongside flowers. “Are spoiled royalty below your paygrade, then?”

A tip of his helmet said yes, yes they are.

You supposed as such, with the sort of reputation he had. Skilled bounty hunter. Feared mercenary. Expensive and coveted.

A lap dog.

Maybe there was more in common between you than you thought.

Another breeze whistled past, but the man in front of you was silent. “Well,” you finally spoke, brushing away the imaginary dirt on your dress. “I don’t make a habit of following around strange men, so we’re in a bit of a bind.”

There was an edge in his voice when you moved to walk away, a gloved grip snaking up and resting a deadweight on the back of your neck. You pushed up against him. Lothcat and mouse. You were both, but he was too. “I’m not telling you again, Princess.”

If he called you that again you were sure something would happen. What that something was you had no idea, but the epithet, mocking as it was, felt too good soaking in your sternum for it not to be a catalyst.

A breathy smirk left your lips when your hips canted downward and the gauzed fabric of your dress caught on his cuisse plate. “If I didn’t know any better,” you whispered, reaching to flatten your palms across his chest, “I’d say you almost enjoyed chasing me.”

The hand on your nape tightened and his leather fingerprints dug unspoken threats into your skin that simmered, burning up and down your spine. You faked a pout. “Shame you already caught me, isn’t it?”

The grip surrounding you loosened just slightly, letting your back slide down the garden wall whose ivy-covered stone dragged at your bodice back. A small voice chirped up in the back of your head, chiding you for dirtying the delicate fabric before you willed it away, done with listening.

Boba almost growled. “Don’t push your luck.”

“My, my,” you clucked, shaking your head. Your fingers trailed towards the edges of his helmet and traced stripes where his brow bone would be. They were gold. For vengeance. “Aren’t we feeling insolent today?”

The man underneath the beskar scoffed, the palm that was at the back of your neck now wrapping itself around your outstretched wrist and pulling your hand away. You let out a quiet whine of protest, both at the loss of contact and just to see what it might do to him to hear it. When he stiffened, leaning away with every muscle seeming to tense and release and tense again, you were unreasonably pleased. There was still red blood underneath all that red paint.

Boba’s voice was clipped when he finally replied; the vowels came through strained and raspy. “I could say the same for you.”

Yes, he probably could, couldn’t he?

Then again, maybe your two wrongs could cancel out into being right and not at all compromising.

It’s not like you really did anything erroneous. Well, besides the running away part. But that was par for the course for you. All that was new was… him. And his hands. And his being alone with you. Which could possibly be construed as something wrong and compromising but how wrong could it be, really, if neither of you did anything?

Of course, this all hinged on neither of you doing anything. Compromising.

“Take the helmet off and I’ll go with you,” you offered, knowing how juvenile you sounded. You just wanted to see if he’d hear you. If he’d listen.

He did.

Boot spurs clinked as he stalked towards you, closer than he was before. It was invasive; almost chest to chest with no room for breathing as you were pushed up against the wall again, and you were met with the revelation that whatever you were toying with was probably a really, really bad idea.

Static filled your ears from the husk of his vocoder. “You know I can take you back whether you want to or not.” The roof of your mouth went dry and you remembered how Boba’s palm spanned the entire back of your neck, cradled delicately by leather fingers. He could crush your throat in one hand. Squeeze until you went limp. You wouldn’t be able to stop him. “I don’t need your permission.”

Your thumbs reached up to the lock mechanisms on either side of his head anyway. “I know.”

Fire felt good when you were close enough to be warmed by it. Whether or not you’d be burned was left to be seen.

The helmet lifted with a soft click.

Truth be told, you’re surprised he let you do it.

You dangled the helm almost carelessly by your hip, curling your fingers around the lip of it whilst your other hand stayed hovering near his face. He looked a bit older than you imagined, mid-thirties maybe, scarred and stern-looking. Handsome.

You should’ve stopped while you were ahead but all you wanted—stupid, stubborn, and yearning for a plaything—was to feel the black curls cropped close to his ears. Which probably counted as compromising.

Without the modulator Boba’s voice was deeper, the rumbling kind of richness that was used to giving orders and used to having them followed. It bore down on you as a concrete weight. “I’m not a kind man, princess.”

He forgot that you were used to giving orders too.

The coarse material of his collar chafed your palm as you held it, gripping a lifeline, and tilted your mouth up to his ear. The softness of your voice disguised your intention. It sounded innocent when you whispered it. Gentle, even. “I never said I wanted you to be.”

His lips bruised you and tasted like salt.

It was all tongue, teeth, barely cloaked violence, pressed until your throat felt raw and your heartbeat dropped below the ground to join whatever was left of your dignity. When your knees buckled, a gloved hand settled large between your shoulder blades.

You didn’t think your first kiss would be like this.

Hypothetically it would have been clinical, fumbling and awkward in your own inexperience. Out in front of a crowd somewhere after you met the eyes of a stranger at the altar. Or maybe in secret, like it was now, with a tryst of boyhood and a peck on the cheek.

Boba Fett was a stranger, but he wasn’t a boy. And this wasn’t a peck on the cheek.

You didn’t realize he had lifted you up by your hips until you were placed back down again, his having crossed the few steps from the wall to the nearby fountain with arms firmly wrapped around your middle and not so much as a strain of his hips. His strength should have scared you. It did scare you, a little, but the same hands that had gripped the blaster still at his side were deceptively gentle around your waist. You let yourself be brought down by his bended knees.

“Easy there,” Boba said, still crouching on the ground beside you as you slowly lay back on the lip of the waterwork, white noise burbling from the quiet fixtures. The flat, curved slab surrounding the shallow pool was wide enough that you needn’t worry about balancing, speckled gray stone warmed from weather and soon by skin. There was one moment where Boba allowed you to catch your breath and then it was gone, knocked out of your lungs in another assiduous touch.

“Poor thing,” he mocked, sardonic even as he cooed gently into your open mouth. Your back arched in an unwitting presentation and blood pounded a drumbeat in your ears. All you could see was Boba; his face and his shoulders and his arms braced beside your head, leaning over your horizontal form. Like you were prey. Maybe you were. “What would your father say if he saw you like this?”

He wouldn’t be able to say anything. Would stand there, mouth agape and his eyes doing that strange bulging thing it always did when you did anything besides sew embroidery squares. Fainting wasn’t out of the question. It would be ridiculously fun to watch.

You huffed, chasing Boba’s mouth with your own when he shifted above you. The midday sun hung high, edging the bounty hunter’s tanned face in white. You could see your own eyes in the reflection of his pupils, could smell his warm skin. His canines scraped your collarbones. Everything was fast, blurry, and burning.

Stars above.

The whole situation was ridiculous. Twenty minutes ago you’d never been kissed on the mouth and now you were letting a killer-for-hire grope you like you were a back-alley harlot.

It wouldn’t end well. You’d curse after he left and hate yourself for letting him stay, because his staying would be brief and shallow and cruel, but right now, lying on the edge of a fountain with sunshine on your neck and a low voice in your ear, staying was the only thing you wanted him to do.

What an egregious lapse in judgement.

What a beautiful, electrifying lapse in judgement.

“You’re so—” a slurred pitchiness invaded your vocal chords, coating everything in bitter syrup. Your jaw was starting to numb from unforgiving lips. “—so rude,” you choked out, mind struggling to find footing amid its own dizziness. You felt like an overheating droid, full of bad code and faulty wiring that made your words and your actions discordant because even as you insulted the man, your hands were curling around his shoulders to pull him closer. “Always so rude, so… so mean to me. Makes me want—” you panted, voice breaking off into a whine when a calloused palm slid across the back of your thigh, “...want…”

His accent curled the consonants into a dance. “Want what, Princess?”

Expectant in their heaviness but teasing a smile in their lined corners, Boba’s eyes were the color of charred umber. Squirming in his arms, you nosed your face into the junction of his collarbones. “Want you,” you finally mumbled, admitting it in one long, pathetic exhale.

His promise had sharp teeth.

“You can have me.”

#boba fett x reader #boba fett/reader #boba fett fanfiction #boba fett oneshot #boba fett imagine

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xebecatt2002 · 3 years

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"Gabrielle, Tell him. Do the Bard thing" Chariots of War

From the very first episode Gabrielle is introduced as a storyteller and straight away it is hard not to be impressed with the level of authenticity the writers give to Gabrielle’s skills as a Bard. Many of these stories she tells are based on fragments of authentic myths.

'Chariots of War', the second episode of the series, opens on Gabrielle telling Xena a story as they make their way to the bar in a village tavern. Though we only catch the ending of her story, there is still interesting details to unpick.

G: “And so, Zeus, in his appreciation, turned the two lovers into oak trees. And then do you know what happened?”

X: “Somebody built a boat out of them?”

G: “No-- their branches intertwined, and they spent the rest of their days in each other’s embrace.”

There are a lot of stories in Greek myth involving 'metamorphoses', the Greek word for ‘transformations’, with both gods and mortals turning into other things like plants or animals. The only story that comes close to the one Gabrielle tells is the story of Baucis and Philemon.

The complete version of the myth is only found in the work ‘Metamorphoses'. It is a collection of myths woven together into a narrative through their common theme of transformation. It was written by the Roman poet Ovid who lived between 43 BC and 17 AD, a period of Roman history which saw the end of the Roman Republic and the reign of the first Emperor, Augustus.

The gods Zeus and Hermes (known here in their Roman forms, Jupiter and Mercury) disguise themselves as mortals and travel across Greece. When they seek hospitality from the mortals they encounter, they find themselves turned away from every household until the come upon the simple home of Philemon and Baucis.

‘Looking for shelter and rest, they called at a thousand

homesteads;

a thousand doors were bolted against them. One

house, however,

did make them welcome, a humble abode with a roof

of straw

and marsh reed, one that new its duty to the gods and men.

Here good Philemon an Baucis had happily passed

their youth

and here they had reached old age, enduring their

poverty lightly

by owning it freely and being content with the little

they had.’

Ovid, Metamorphoses, 8.628-635

Here the couple greet the strangers and offer up what little they have, providing them with the best of the meagre food and wine unknowing their true divine identities. Ovid goes in to quite a bit of detail describing the hospitality the couple offer especially the dishes that make up their feast during. While they entertain their guests the cups magically refill with wine.

‘Meanwhile, whenever the mixing-bowl got empty,

it seemed

To refill of its own accord, with the wine welling up by

itself.

Stunned and scared by this wonder, Philemon,

trembling, and Baucis

lifted their upturn hands to heaven and fervently

prayed

For forgiveness after serving so poorly prepared a repast.’

Ovid, Metamorphoses, 8.679-682

Fearing they have offended their divine guest they seek to appease them by sacrificing their only goose. This leads to a comical scene with the elderly couple chasing the goose and failing to catch it. It appears to run towards to gods for safety which seems to work as the gods command them to spare the bird as they are grateful for what they have already provided.

They then proclaim that the couple will be spared from the punishment they will inflict of their impious neighbours who refused to honour the Greek custom of hospitality known as xenia (ξενία), a word derived from the Greek word for stranger xenos(ξένος). Sometimes referred to as 'ritualized friendship' the custom was based on generosity, courtesy and gift-giving that strengthen ties between people. In earlier times when it was thought that the gods walked among mortals it was even more important to respect these customs to avoid incurring the wrath of a visiting god. It would became seen as a moral obligation for both Guest and Host to show respect to each other.

Returning to Ovid's story, the couple leave their home with the gods and head to the safety mountains. There they witness the flood the gods send down to wipe out their impious neighbours. Nothing is spared except the couple’s home which undergoes its own transformation as it becomes a temple to the gods.

The gods offer to grant the couple anything they desire as reward. After deliberating with each other Philemon and Baucis ask to be guardians of the new temple and also, that when the time comes for them to die, that they die together so they don’t have to suffer the loss of their partner. After many years happy years together they are transformed into Trees. Philemon an Oak and Baucis a linden.

"We

ask

to be priests and to guard your temple; and since we

have passed our years

together in peace, let the same hour carry us off, so I

need not

look on my dear wife’s grave, nor she have to bury my

body."

Their wish was granted; as long as life was allowed

them, they served

as the temple’s guardians. When time had taken its

final toll,

and while they were casually standing in front of the

steps of the building,

telling the sanctuary’s history, both Philemon and

Baucis

witnessed their partner sprouting leaves on their worn

old limbs

As the tops of the trees spread over their lip sand concealed

them forever.

Still to this day the peasants of Phrygia point to the oak

and the linden nearby which once where the forms of

Philemon and Baucis.’ Ovid, Metamorphoses, 8.712-720

The devotion the couple have for each other is really endearing. You can really see why this story would appeal to a young Gabrielle who left her home and arranged marriage to find the true place she feels she belongs.

It is also an interesting choice of story to share with Xena, someone she’s just met who is aloof and independent. She’s eager to befriend the warrior but is finding her emotionally distant. This emotional distance is reflected in the physical distance between them. In these early episodes they have clearly defined personal spaces, such as sperate bedrolls, and they spend a lot of time apart as Gabrielle is left behind in a 'safe' location. You could read into this that just as Xena tries to keep distance between her and Gabrielle physically to protect her, she is trying to keep her emotionally distant for safety reasons as well. In some ways Gabrielle may understand this which is why she choses to tell this particular story to Xena. The old couple might seem weak and vulnerable but they are given strength by the devotion and support they have for each other. Gabrielle is trying to show her new friend that caring isn't a weakness but a source of strength by using this story as an example.

X: “What’s the point?”

G: “Come on, Xena. I believe everyone will find their tree in the forest someday-- even you.”

X: “I find the strongest trees in the forest stand alone.”

G: “You don’t have to be strong all the time, Xena; sometimes it’s good for the soul to be soft.”

This moment beautifully foreshadows the relationship that grows between Xena and Gabrielle throughout the series as both become entwined emotionally, spiritually and physically in a multiple of ways. There are moments that the imagery of the myth is invoked in such a way that Xena and Gabrielle symbolically become the lovers. Intentional or not by the writers it is a fantastic coincidence.

One episode that subtly does this is ‘The Abyss’ during one of its poignant cave scenes. After an encounter with cannibals Xena and an injured Gabrielle become tapped in a cave that is rapidly flooding. As Xena tries to get them out, Gabrielle tells Xena her final wish, that she wants to be buried with Xena.

X [Whispers]: "Gabrielle-- Gabrielle-- here-- here. The time's

come. We're getting you out of here, all right?"

G: "Oh."

X: "All right."

G: "Xena, I have a-- a last wish."

X: "I don't want to hear of it."

G: "No-- I'm serious. You don't want to know?"

X: "What is it, then?"

G: "I don't-- want to be buried-- with the Amazons."

X: "All right. Well, in fifty years, when the time comes."

G: "Xena-- I wanna lie with you-- with your family? In

Amphipolis."

X: "What about your family?"

G: "I love them-- but I'm a part of you. I want it to be like

that forever. I love you."

It is the climax of a series of intimate moments that are grounded in their love and devotion to each other. Gabrielle’s words cement their soulmate relationship. They are meant to be, and will be, together forever like the lovers of her story.

The context of this moment adds another layer to this allusion. As Gabrielle is affirming to Xena that she is a part of her, the warrior princess is preparing to save her injured partner by tying her to herself using vines. This nicely invokes images of Gabrielle’s story of the two lovers who becoming trees and entwining together. Also it connects with Ovid's tale of Philemon and Baucis as like the mythic couple, Xena cannot bear to witness the death of her partner. As Philemon and Baucis were spared that fate by being transformed into trees, Xena is using a plant to physically entwine her and Gabrielle to save her from death.

This climb up the ravine walls to escape the rising water could be reminiscent of Philemon's and Baucis' arduous climb up the mountain to escape the flood or just another coincidence. What perhaps isn't is that it is love and devotion that binds each couple together for eternity. Just like the lovers in the story Gabrielle tells in season one, and the myth it is based upon, Xena and Gabrielle will be together for eternity in each other's embrace.

Throughout the series there are a number of different ways Xena and Gabrielle become entwined together. As the emotional distance between them shrinks, the physical space seen in earlier episodes disappears and they begin to embrace each other. Not only is there a myriad of touches and hugs to connect them but while sitting, walking and even fighting they become inseparable.

They become so close that they pick up traits from each other and almost merge into one. This is such a vast topic to discuss it really needs its own post to explore in detail but the importance for this discussion is the idea that they merge into one entity. The idea that they become one is the connection with the myths and invokes the imagery of metamorphosis.

This metamorphosis becomes literal later in the series. In season 5’s ‘Succession’ during Ares’ contest to determine a worthy successor to Xena as his Chosen, he places Gabrielle and Xena into the same body. At dawn they discover that Gabrielle metamorphoses in to Xena and dusk, Xena into Gabrielle. This nicely alludes to Gabrielle’s story as they transform, much like the couple becoming entwine trees, two individuals become one entwined in each others bodies.

This physical metamorphoses happens in the series when it has become fully established that these two are soulmates, destined to be together for eternity. They are truly devoted to each other that they cannot be separated, just as the lovers cannot bear to be parted from each other even when they are transformed into trees.

As Gabrielle predicted at the end of her story, they both found their tree in the forest in each other.

Sources

Ovid, Metamorphoses

Whoosh.org, Episode Transcripts

Screen captures by myself

Thanks to Simjay on the Discord Xena group for the Gifs!

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rainydaydream-gal18 · 4 years

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Bad Batch x Jedi!Reader: Ghosts

(Author’s Note: I’m baaaacccck! I’ve had a rough few weeks and found almost no inspiration or motivation to write here, but I woke up this morning and felt like a new person. Thank you for waiting and for continuing to read, like, comment, and reblog!

Anyway, this was a request I received moons ago, and I just wanted to say to the Anon who requested that I did not forget about it and I’m so sorry for the wait. For real, thank you for the request, and I hope you like it.

OG Request: Can I request a bad batch and reader who was their sister, they were also a Jedi. But then order 66 happens and the bad batch tries to kill her but she escaped after being shot by crosshair. She ends up working with the ghost crew and meets up with them during rebels, she's almost scared of them. She also tears up seeing how much older the are

Warnings: blaster wound, some angst, fluff ending)

Got your back,” you growled, using your lightsaber to block some incoming shots. Hunter fired his blasters at the group of oncoming droids that headed toward you.

Wrecker was plowing through the enemy squads like it was nothing, giving an enthusiastic yell here and there. He paused to give you a thumbs-up with a gloved hand, and you grinned back. Crosshair was picking them off from his position off the immediate battlefield. He blasted one right in front of you.

“Nice shot!”

Tech was handling things just fine on his side. You moved past him to cut through a few droids nonetheless and exchanged nods of appreciation.

Just another day with the Bad Batch, the rogue squad that had come to be your family over the course of the war. You had adjusted to living life on the wild side- dangerous missions and poor odds. The group managed to get through each one, and you grew stronger.

This mission, to invade and destroy the Separatist base from the inside out, was a particularly risky one. But like the others, this one was going rather well.

Or it had been. Until Tech alerted Hunter of an incoming comm that was rather urgent.

You didn’t see who the transmission was from. You caught a glimpse of the blue form displaying on Tech’s comm before having to deal with an oncoming droid. You planted a thermal detonator and somersaulted away so it could blast the last of the droids, and you’d be ready to check in with your squad about the comm.

As the battlefield went dead silent after the fall of the final droid, there was a shift. That was the best way to describe the feeling. Something just wasn’t right. You glanced over to see Hunter and Tech standing perfectly still as they received the message. That’s when it hit you. Whatever it was, it was deadly, and you knew you needed to get your squad out of there.

You turned fully toward them, lips parting in the beginnings of a warning about the shift in your feelings. You could only hope they’d listen to you and get out in time without an argument. Your voice was cut off at the sight of three visors facing you with blasters aimed your way.

“Guys?” you called, eyes flickering to each of them. “Hunter? What’s going on?”

Two more visors, Crosshair’s and Echo’s, joined them. Cross kept his rifle ready at his shoulder, aimed at you as well. That’s when you realized they weren’t in danger. They were the danger.

“The jedi are traitors to the Republic,” Hunter’s voice echoed in the space between you. “By order of Sidious, they are to be executed for their crimes, and that includes you.”

“W-what?” You grasped your lightsaber tightly, not wanting to raise it and alarm them further. “I haven’t done anything. We’ve been fighting for the Republic. See those droids?” You nodded in that direction. “I cut them up myself with my lightsaber to protect the galaxy. We did it together.”

“Stop trying to reason with us,” Crosshair hissed. “You’re...a...traitor.” He hesitated, body quivering for a moment as his visor looked to the ground. Whatever cloud of confusion had settled on him, it was like he tried to fight it.

“It’s me,” you said. “It’s __________.”

Hunter’s body shook again before he aimed the blaster at you with resolve. “You heard Sidious, boys. Order 66 must be carried out.”

Searing pain traveled through your shoulder as you made a run for it, causing you to stumble. You spared a glance behind you to see the Bad Batch giving chase. Crosshair had actually shot you. A different kind of pain exploded in your chest at the betrayal. Even though you knew this Sidious was behind it all. Even though you knew it wasn’t the real Crosshair. It still hurt.

Despite the physical and emotional agony, you kept running. You deflected more blaster shots with your lightsaber, using your abilities to leap into the nearest ship. The presence of your closest allies began to fade as you took off, leaving to shoot at the vehicle to no avail.

Fortunately, you and the squad handled dangerous missions on your own without too much Republic assistance, so you were able to get into space without encountering any other soldiers. When things quieted down and you were faced with the blur of stars and planets outside the viewport, you shrank back in your seat from the weight of grief. For the first time, you allowed yourself to grieve. The life of a jedi was by no means easy, but you were trained for years to not give into such strong attachments to avoid the dark side’s pull.

This time, you let the tears fall for your squad. You let the sob rip through the lonely ship. It was a relief to cry, but not enough to dull the pain. It was like a fresh wound, raw and stinging.

“Crosshair, Hunter, Wrecker, Echo, Tech…” you cried their names, demanding an answer from no one in particular. Just then, a beep sounded amongst the ship controls that alerted you of an incoming message. You sniffled and answered, eyes widening at the sight of Jedi Obi Wan Kenobi.

“...I regret to inform you…”

- - - - - - - - -

“__________? What are you doing?” Ezra called. “We’ve got to go!”

You glanced his way from several feet away, holding up a hand as a signal for him to wait. Something felt off about this place. It was a feeling you hadn’t felt in a long time. A long time.

“Is this a jedi thing?” he asked, walking over. Despite being quite skilled and talented for one so young, he was still very early in his training with Kanan. Nothing could quell his curiosity, though.

You nodded. “There’s something...someone...here. I think I know them.”

“It’s just an old ship,” he shrugged. “It is a scrapyard, after all.”

It was a good point. The place looked rather abandoned to the naked eye, but you could see beyond appearances. There was more to this ship than just a heap of metal. Something felt oddly alive about it.

“I’m going to check it out,” you said.

“But Hera said-”

“Ezra,” you interrupted with as patient of a tone as you could muster. “I need to do this. I’ll be right back.” You took a few cautious steps forward only to hear him walking behind you. You peeked at him over your shoulder to see a determined expression on his face.

“If something really is going on, I’m not letting you go in there alone.”

“Ugh, fine,” You pretended to be annoyed, though deep down you were glad he was coming along. Something stirred inside you. You sensed a presence that you hadn’t in years. Could it be…? No, it couldn’t.

“__________?” The all-too-familiar voice called. A face popped out from the old ship. Even among the wrinkles and white hair, you recognized a piercing set of brown eyes. Your own eyes widened as your instincts took over, and you turned to bolt. “No, wait!”

“Stay back!” Ezra warned, hands raised to the figure that emerged from the ship quickly. A much taller figure stepped out, and this fellow threw his head back and laughed.

You froze in place, taking in the aged faces before you. None of them held the same conflict in their gaze as they had the last time you were with them. They held their hands up as a gesture that they carried no weapons.

“_________, it’s alright,” Echo called. “We mean you no harm.”

“Please, don’t go.” Hunter’s tone sounded so pleading; it made you want to cry. You did not sense any evil intent on their part. It was a good sign that they were no longer under Emperor Palpatine’s control. Over the years, you discovered what exactly had happened to your squad. Old Republic files you’d hacked revealed that something known as Order 66 had occurred, and you had pieced together the horrible plot to overthrow the jedi. Like the others, you had to stay hidden- even from the Bad Batch.

“How do I know this isn’t a trick?” you asked hesitantly.

Tech took a step forward, and you gripped the handle of your lightsaber as a warning not to approach. His eyes flickered to the weapon before he took a step back. “After Order 66, the new Empire retired us. I had quite a bit of free time, and while doing some research, I stumbled upon a report: it told me all about these biological chips.”

“And we removed them!” Wrecker said. He turned his head to the side, his pointer finger tapping on a scar on the bald skin. By then, you started walking towards them. You couldn’t believe how they had aged so much. You were in front of Crosshair first, reaching a hand up to touch his weathered face. He didn’t tense like he used to every time you accidentally brushed against him. As a matter of fact, he even smiled a little. Age had worn down his tough-guy act.

“It’s...good to see you,” he said.

Then, all at once, the tears started flowing. It was like you picked up right where you left off all those years ago. You threw your arms around him, and after a few moments of crying into his shoulder, you felt his arms come up to hold you comfortingly. “Cross...I missed you so much!”

“I missed you too.”

“Hey,” Wrecker grunted. “I missed you! Don’t I get a hug?”

You laughed through the tears and turned to give him a hug only to be lifted off the ground in a familiar, enveloping embrace- the kind only Wrecker could give. He set you down laughing with you, and you pulled Echo and Tech into a little group hug. They both smiled widely, Echo chuckling, as you pulled them tighter. Then, you were faced with an aged Hunter who looked conflicted. You could feel his warmth and happiness to see you, but he also carried guilt. You quickly wrapped your arms around him, and he hugged back.

“__________,” he murmured. “I’m...sorry-”

“Not another word,” you interrupted. “It wasn’t your fault. None of you are to blame.”

“But-”

“Not another word,” you insisted, flashing him a smile. He returned with a handsome grin that showed the old Hunter even through his aged appearance. It brought more tears to your eyes. “I’m so glad we all found our way back together.”

“Um, __________?” Ezra spoke up. He gave a shrug, confused about the interaction.

“I’ll explain,” you told him. “Bad Batch, this is my friend, Ezra. Him and I are members of a crew that does what it can to mess with the Empire.”

“Oh yeah?” Wrecker asked. “As soon as our chips were removed, that’s what we started doing.”

“Really?”

“Indeed, we’ve made significant progress,” Tech said.

“Well,” you sighed, resting a hand on his shoulder plate. “What do you say we regroup and mess with the Empire together?”

“I think…” Hunter stroked his chin in thought. “I think that sounds like a great idea.”

#clone wars #star wars: the clone wars #bad batch #star wars the bad batch #clone wars the bad batch #bad batch x reader #bad batch reader insert #star wars rebels #star wars reader insert #star wars #the clone wars reader insert #clone wars x reader #jedi!reader #bad batch x jedi!reader #tech #crosshair #hunter #echo #wrecker

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wangxianficrecs · 4 years

Photo

Follower Recs

There are nearly FORTY THOUSAND AO3 stories in the MDZS universe, and I am just a single person with limited time, so.... Here’s a bit of y’all doing my work for me!

~*~

Mojo, I know it'd probably be recced before, but I have to recommend stiltonbasket's Twelve Moons and a Fortnight. It has made me squee of cuteness, hold my breath with suspense, marvel over the worldbuilding and character interactions, and just awed me at how well every original piece of lore and HC ties back to canon. I cried over it, only to cry laughing the next chapter. it kept me going through an entire year of lockdown and is finally coming to an end, and the resolution was magnificent.

*[I’m subscribed to this and keep waiting for Part One to be completed, but instead later parts keep getting posted: is it completed but not marked? I am confused. And eager to read!]*

Twelve Moons and a Fortnight

by stiltonbasket (G, 267k, wangxian, WIP)

Summary: "Let me get this straight. You really want me to stand in for you while you help Jin Ling settle in at Koi Tower?"

"Who else do I have?" Jiang Cheng snaps, ears turning scarlet as Jin Ling tries to pretend he isn't listening. "Father trained you to serve as my deputy, didn't he? And don't say you don't remember, or I'll break your legs."

"Well, yes," Wei Wuxian manages. "Uh. I'll just let Lan Zhan know I'll be at Lotus Pier until you're back at home, then."

Or, the one where Wei Wuxian spends the year before his wedding as Yunmeng Jiang's acting sect leader, and the cultivation world's greatest love story finds its happy ending with the help of three juniors, a teenage romance, and one very involved (and exasperated) younger brother.

~*~

May I recommend fielty by milkpunch a sort of AU where lwj in order to save his sect from being destroyed by nine after wen rouhans assasination goes to work as a guard to Jin zixuan where he meets wwx the right hand of Jin guanguao... ~ @pastashouldbeeatenwithafork

Fealty

by milkpunch (E, 84k, wangxian)

Summary: Before, there had been two reigning kingdoms. Both claimed to be blessed by the sun, but with vastly differing views. One, under the name of Wen, was washed red with blood and violence, its soldiers fierce and stoked with a fiery blaze. The other, under the name of Jin, was bathed in golden light and glory, its soldiers proud and heavy with coin and prestige. The two kingdoms went to war for the true honour of having the sun’s blessing, fighting for many long years with many lives lost.

Jin Guangshan, emperor of the Golden Sun Palace, found that the sun favoured him more.

To prevent his kingdom from being crushed, Lan Zhan, second heir to the Lan kingdom, exchanges his freedom for that of servitude to the Jin kingdom. He is appointed as Jin Zixuan's personal guard, but there's more on his plate than just keeping the Jin heir safe. The Golden Sun Palace is not all that it seems, and the dazzling lives of the royals are less perfect than they appear.

~*~

Hey, I was wondering if I could rec a fic to you. My bestie wrote it for the Lunar New Year Wangxian gift exchange and it definitely did not receive the attention it deserves. It's a really fun mermaid/arranged marriage au! ~ @leahlisabeth

More Than This Provincial Wife

by ApprenticedMagician (T, 6k, wangxian)

Summary: The negotiations surrounding the Lan & Jiang alliance through marriage encountered a few snags in the beginning.

~*~

I love your blog! I saw a recent post where you listed some rec's from other people? [Thank you! And yes, I always appreciate and am happy to share your recs!] I just read the WIP A Corpse Called By Name jaemyun and LOVED it! It's a zombie apocolypse AU, where Wei Ying gets bitten by a zombie.... and I don't want to spoil anything from there, but it is amazing! No pressure to put it in your blog, but wanted to send a note just in case. Thanks for all you do!

A Corpse Called By Name

by jaemyun (not rated, 37k, wangxian, WIP)

Summary: A continuation of zombie drabble!

She loses her brother in a hoard of the undead.

She finds a corpse wearing his face in a convenience store.

The corpse calls her name.

~*~

Hi! I was wondering if I could rec this short fic that I recently found and really liked! The narrative is an inner monologue and I think it captures lwj really well :)

binding me in spells (till my heart's devoured)

by gaysgaysgays (G, <1k, wangxian)

Summary: His scars are a reminder of his hurt, a reminder that he had healed.

(or a study of lan zhan's scars)

~*~

I found a fic I had recently asked you about, so I thought I'd share it with you: Seasons of Falling Flowers by merakily (http://archiveofourown.org/works/28522326). I rediscovered it completely by accident after listening to spinifex's excellent podfic adaptation. This is the fic where Lan Qiren despises Wei Wuxian until Wei Wuxian catches a cold and Lan Qiren find out about his golden core. That part is about 3/4 of the way through. The fic is wonderful and shows a rigid but surprisingly introspective Lan Qiren. ~ @clmoryel [Oh! I just read this one yesterday! Here’s my bookmark.]

Seasons of Falling Flowers

by merakily (G, 40k, wangxian, lan qiren & wei wuxian, podfic)

Summary: Like a parasite, Wei Wuxian has this way of growing on people when you least expect it.

Over the seasons, Lan Qiren slowly pieces back together his relationship with Wangji and learns to like Wei Wuxian in the process.

(“Will you rejoin your sect?” As soon as the words leave his mouth, Lan Qiren regrets his wording.

He is not surprised when Wangji’s eyes narrow, flashing with offence. “There is no need to rejoin what one has never left. I did not turn my back on my sect. My sect turned their backs on me.”)

~*~

Hi! Can I rec a fic? "bring you home" by Alasse_Irena on AO3 is a modern AU and is one of the most beautiful and atmospheric fics I have read. Thanks for you work running this blog! I have new Wangxian fics to read <3

bring you home

by Alasse_Irena (T, 28k, wangxian)

Summary: Wei Ying rents a run-down cottage in a small town by the sea, looking for a quiet place to hide after the war.

Lan Zhan has always dreamed of the ocean. He returns to the town where he was born, and where his parents died, to find out why.

Instead, they find each other.

~*~

Good morning lady mojo, I hope you’re having a good day! I wanted to rec a fic, Breathing Firestorm by ladyshadowdrake. It’s 111k and great but barely has any love, which is unfair. You mentioned it in the last ‘in a mood for’ post but I think it should have more of a shoutout because it’s a lot of fun and I liked it a lot. Have a great day ♥️ [Oh! I was subscribed to this one and saw it had been recently finished. It’s def. on my list!]

Breathing Firestorm

by ladyshadowdrake (M, 111k, wangxian)

Summary: After years of a mad quest, Wen Ruohan is finally given proof of a powerful creature living among mortals. He is delighted to find that it truly believes itself to be only a boy named “Wei Wuxian.”

While Wen Ruohan tries to unlock Wei Wuxian’s secret, the sects unite against him. If he can achieve his goal before they arrive, even the combined might of the cultivation world would not be enough to humble him. Meanwhile, Lan Wangji dreams of Wei Wuxian in the Cold Pond Cave, and works tirelessly to rescue him from Wen Ruohan’s clutches. No one is prepared for what awaits the allied sects in Nightless City at the conclusion of the war, and it very well might mean the end of the world as they know it.

~*~

Hi Mojo, firstly thank you for all the hard work you put into running this blog, I’ve found so many fics that I probably would have never come across if it wasn’t for your fic finders posts and your personal review posts. [Aw, thank you!]

I don’t know if you’ve read this fic before or if it’s been mentioned before on your blog (I’ve done a quick search of your blog and couldn’t see it, so if I’ve missed it I apologise!) but if you’ve got a fic rec post coming up, I would suggest “The shapes a bright container can contain” by litbynosun.

It’s a case fic about 16k words long and set after canon. Whilst it’s not the main focus of the story it does delve slightly into chronic illness of wwx (the ailments of mxy’s body) and lwj (his continuous treatment of his scars) which might cover a few requests in the IITMF posts in future.

Thanks again for all the hard work you do! ~ @dulachodladh

the shapes a bright container can contain

by litbynosun

M, 17k, wangxian

Summary: "Lan Zhan, look at this," Wei Wuxian calls. "They don't have organs, but they're all… fuzzy."

He gently strokes the corpse's arm -- it's covered in soft, pigmentless downy hair, like a rabbit. Lan Wangji crouches next to him and nods. "Lanugo," he says. Wei Wuxian raises one eyebrow. "They were malnourished for quite a while before death," Lan Wangji elaborates. Wei Wuxian scans the bodies again. Indeed, they both have sunken cheeks, and their abdomens are empty of both organs and fat padding. “That’s a question,” he says. “Did they starve to death, and have their bodies desecrated after they were already deceased? Or were they murdered, and simply starving at the same time?” "We should stay," Lan Wangji tells him. This is not an answer to his question. It is an offer to search for answers.

Or: Wei Wuxian and his family solve a ghost haunting. Wei Wuxain's old enemy, societal injustice, rears its head again.

#follower rec #wangxian fic rec #I HAVEN'T READ THESE YET #wangxian #mdzs

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holykillercake · 4 years

Text

One Year

pairing: Zoro x Reader

word count: 2k

summary: No summary this time. I´ll just say this ¨Bartholomew Kuma and Sabaody¨. Read at your own risk. Seriously, ¨KUMA AND SABAODY¨, do you understand?

highlight: ¨Everyone did their best, but no one could have done better.¨

warnings: angst with happy ending; Sabaody Archipelago spoilers (?)

notes: Hey guys! This was a request from @roronoatrash in which ¨Zoro who has 0 sense of direction seemed to always find his way back to is s/o, and his s/o only.¨. I really hope you like it!💚 This is also the first time I write a Devil Fruit user, so I'm considering a sequel to develop the character and add more humor.

𝕷𝖊𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖘, 𝖗𝖊𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖘, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊!

It was a cloudy and melancholic day in the New World. The men on board were leisurely enjoying their afternoon; some drinking, some napping, some eating. The air was humid and cold, and the tides were strangely calm. No one seemed to care. After all, that was the New World.

¨Boss!¨ the lookout shouted from the crow's nest ¨Something is falling from the sky! It´s going to land on deck!¨

All men tilted their heads to look at the sky, watching a tiny black spot become bigger and more recognizable.

¨Is that what I think it is?¨ the captain asked himself, not believing his eyes.

¨Boss, is that a girl?¨

¨Yep, I think so.¨

They stood still watching what they suspected was a girl fall from the skies. The red-haired took a quick glimpse at his first-mate and officers, and since no one moved, he felt safe to assume that that was not a threat. Mainly because whatever was falling towards the ship looked dead already.

The body fell through the main deck and went straight to the lower level of the ship. The captain and his officers stood around the hole on the wooden floor, observing the unconscious and injured body of a girl.

¨I´ve seen some crazy things rain around here... but this is new.¨ he spoke.

They were ready to have someone dispose of the dead body when the girl opened her eyes, putting herself on her shaky legs. Blood dripped from her eyebrows and nose, and she had bruises all over. Her eyes wandered around as if she was looking for something.

¨Z-Zoro...¨ she spoke when her teary eyes met the captain´s ¨I-I need to find Zoro.¨

That was all she said before falling on her knees and collapsing.

</>

Almost a year has passed since the tragedy in Sabaody Archipelago. A year passed since you were defeated in the fight against the marine force. Your gashes closed, and your bruises healed, but there was a wound that would not go away, even after one year.

So much had happened since that day. Luffy had broken into Impel Down, fought in the Paramount War, and lost his brother, Ace. A few days later you received the hidden message he had left you, saying that you were no longer going to meet in Sabaody in three days but in two years.

It took you a while to understand the situation you and the rest of the Strawhats were in, and it took you even more to let go of your selfishness and trust them. The guilt for not being strong enough to protect yourself and your comrades ate you alive during the first weeks, but then you considered how they must be feeling too. No one could have done better.

Everyone did their best, but no one could have done better.

For one year, whenever a News Coo flew by to deliver a newspaper, you would run and grab it before anyone did, hoping to see another message from your friends. But the status of your captain was the only one you knew so far. You knew he was training with Rayleigh-san, and this whole two years thing should have been his idea.

When Bartholomeu Kuma used his Devil Fruit powers on you, you ended up landing on the ship of the Red Hair Pirates. They would always tell you how you rained on their Red Force and broke the deck floor. They said you were looking for someone, and during your stay in the infirmary, you would always call for the same person.

For months nightmares had you waking up in the middle of the night panting and crying. The same one, torturing you in an infinite and merciless loop.

Every detail, color, and noise. Everything was so precise and clear in your head.

When he fought still injured from the last encounter with the Shichibukai; when he stood up and faced the Warlord fearlessly. Even with the damages caused by Kizaru and the Pacifistas, he stood up.

And maybe your eyes fooled you, maybe your exhausted body played a sick trick on you because he was there until he wasn´t.

Right in front of your eyes.

His cropped green hair and tanned skin, the vibrant red and white striped shirt, the scar across his chest, the haramaki, and the swords. Gone, simple as that.

But after all the training that you had with the Red Hair Pirates, you seemed more in peace with yourself. After one year, the nightmares would bother you only every once in a while. You were not prepared for the New World before, maybe still aren´t, but you will get there.

And they made everything easier. It was no mystery why Luffy liked them so much. Whenever you were not engaged in a fight or some other Emperor crap, those guys were incredibly light-spirited. And the moment they realized you were part of Luffy´s crew they treated your wounds and welcomed you onboard.

Shanks agreed to have his men training you, but he made very clear that no one would babysit you, so it was ¨keep up or keep out.¨. You spent most of your time with Yassop, Benn, or Roux, for they were the best in the abilities you exercised.

Inside the Strawhats you were a stealth agent, mostly because of your Devil Fruit, the Nagi Nagi no Mi, once possessed by a Marine Commander. Another Supernova, the Surgeon of Death Trafalgar Law had told you that before shit broke in Sabaody.

You used that combined with your fighting skills to breach the enemy´s first line of defense before they saw you coming. Usually, Usopp would assist you with the sniper training, trade he ¨learned from a friend¨, Sogeking.

His father was an extraordinary sniper, and he used the same kind of firearms as you, differently than Usopp´s slingshot. Benn´s combat skills were remarkable, and Roux was exceptionally fast for a man his size. You haven´t had a lot of opportunities to fight the Red Hair himself, though you had a strong will, his Haki was something you have never seen before.

¨We´re going to a bar, kid. You´re coming?¨ Benn asked you with his cigarette on his lips.

You pondered a little over his invitation but decided to decline it. ¨Thanks, Benn, but I´m keeping a low profile tonight.¨ He nodded and smiled, turning to follow his crewmates ¨Don´t drink too much, we have training tomorrow!¨

The first mate laughed shortly and spoke without looking at you ¨Roger that, kid.¨

You walked the opposite way, wandering between the vegetables and gimmicks tents, feeling the kind sunset kiss your skin. There was some music playing, kids running around with ice cream in their hands, laughing loudly and happily. Marketers were announcing their prices, housewives were thinking about delicious recipes to prepare for their families, and couples would sit together around the font, swearing love to each other.

Every day was like that. The citizens would wish their neighbors ¨good morning¨ from their windows; bakers would open the doors early, letting the delightful smell of fresh bread wake up those who slept in.

How could you, in the middle of all that happiness, feel so sad and lost?

You sighed and made a route change. Maybe you needed a little bit of booze.

The island where Shanks had decided to dock was in the Grand Line, a place where they were known and welcomed. So you knew where they were, and it would be a short walk to get there.

¨Y/N?¨

You turned automatically, thinking that a crew member had gotten lost and was looking for his captain - or boss, how he likes to be called.

But when you saw the man standing in front of you, everything stopped. The music, the kids, and the love promises.

At some point, you started to cry and hyperventilate, believing you were in another nightmare, and you would have to go through that day all over again. Your lover carried pain in his eyes as well, like his fears were the same as yours.

Those minutes you stared at each other felt like hours while you kept every detail of him in your memory. His hair was slightly longer, and his complexion was paler, even with the sunset painting his skin.

¨Z-Zoro...¨ you whispered shakily.

He gave a step forward ¨Y/N... it´s you...¨

You ran in his direction as soon as your name fell out of his mouth. Your arms embraced his neck, and your legs gave up when he held you tight against his body, whispering comforting words as you broke into tears.

¨I...¨ nothing but sobs came out.

¨I know... me too.¨ he fondled your hair and hid his face in the curve of your neck. And there stood the both of you, not wanting to let the other go.

</>

¨How did you know I was here?¨ you asked and he blushed a little.

¨I didn´t... I had to buy stuff for the castle, and I got lost.¨ a loud laugh came out of your mouth. It was so obvious, how didn´t you guess that?

¨They didn´t give you a log pose?¨

¨They did, but I took a nap and when I woke up, I was here.¨

You spent the rest of the day cuddling on the beach sand. Zoro was laying on his back, and you were resting on his chest. You had one year worth of conversation to catch up on, and neither of you rushed to do so. He told you about Mihawk, the creepy island in which the only native habitants were copycat human drills, the boat he destroyed, and even how he begged the Warlord to train him.

The sun had started to hide behind the sea, and the warm sand was cooling down. The sound of the waves crashing on the shore together with the salty breeze made you question if you had died at some point, and that was heaven.

¨You´re paler.¨ he chuckled.

¨It´s not very sunny where I´m living.¨

¨Hm...¨ you hummed ¨And how long did you take to figure out Luffy´s message?¨

¨Oh...¨ he thought for a second ¨ I knew right away.¨ you giggled and doodled on his chest with your finger.

You felt his chest go up and down as he let out a sigh.

¨I missed you, Y/N.¨ he hugged you tighter.

¨I missed you too.¨ you stayed in silence for a few minutes ¨Anyway, when are you setting sail again?¨ You asked him softly, and he tensed up. ¨I know... ¨ your lips began to tremble ¨ I don´t want to go either, but what happened in Sabaody... I don´t want that to happen ever again.¨ you bit your lip as tears started to roll on your cheeks.

He wiped the tears with his fingers and pulled you closer. None of you wanted to part ways again, but not only those were your captain´s order that was your future. If something like that happens again in the New World, a two-year separation would be the best scenario possible.

¨It won´t. I promise.¨

When the night came, you decided to stay on the beach and talked until you fell asleep under the stars. The best sleep you´ve had in a long time. No nightmares, no agony, and no pain. Just the warmth and peace you missed so much.

On the following morning, you helped him get the provisions for Mihawk´s castle. You toured around the city holding hands and joking, kinda like the couples sitting by the font, enjoying every second you had before he left.

If he didn´t get lost trying to go back to Kuraigana Island, it would be a quick trip. You assisted him with the bags and walked him to his boat. Your heart ached to say goodbye to him, but you had to. The circumstances were bigger than the two of you.

¨I love you, Zoro.¨ you hugged him and tried not to cry again.

¨I love you more, Y/N.¨

¨Careful with the naps, ok?¨ he chuckled and nodded ¨One year. We´ll meet again in one year.¨

¨Wait for me. I´ll go get you, and we´ll return to Sabaody together.¨

¨But how will you know where I will be?¨

¨It doesn´t matter where you´ll be. I´ll always find you.¨

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joachimnapoleon · 3 years

Text

Doomed to Be Our Bane - Excerpt [Napoleon's POV]

(NaNoWriMo 2021 - Day 24)

(Napoleon's first meeting with Murat since early 1811--right before the 1812 campaign begins.)

***

"Your Majesty," said Duroc, "the King of Naples is here to see you."

The first battle of the campaign. But it couldn't be helped. Those two-hundred-thousand cavalrymen weren't going to command themselves. And he had been underwhelmed with the general handling of the cavalry in Murat's absence during the 1809 campaign. I need him. And so, we must be reconciled.

The trick, as always, would be in maintaining the right balance. Vexation and sentiment, as he had explained to Caulaincourt. Both are necessary in dealing with this Neapolitan pantaloon. After his conduct over the past couple of years, Murat must be made to feel the fragility of his position, the ease with which the Emperor's good graces might be lost if he were to persist in his misbehavior; but he also wanted Murat to recognize that he had not entirely lost Napoleon's affections, that his firmness with his errant brother-in-law had not been out of malice. It was a delicate balancing act though, especially in person. At least while he was in Naples, Napoleon could have his harshest words delivered secondhand, via Berthier or Clarke--or Caroline--and would never have to witness their effects.

Well, let us get it over with. He took a quick pinch of snuff, and snapped the snuffbox shut. "Bring him in."

Murat was announced, and entered the room dressed, in Napoleon's mind, rather plainly, at least compared to his standard fare. His wore the uniform of a colonel of the guard, in white and gold, with black, knee-length boots. His only ornamentations were the numerous medals upon his chest. He gave a low bow.

"Your Majesty," he said.

"Joachim."

His blue eyes were lacking their usual luster, and his manner seemed, Napoleon thought, even more subdued than it had been two years earlier, when they had ridden together to meet Marie-Louise and Caroline. Clearly he was not any more eager for this encounter than Napoleon. They had not seen each other in a year, and their relationship had deteriorated significantly since that last, unhappy parting.

There was a palpable tension in the room. He tried to cut through it with some inquiries about Murat's health, his children, the weather in Naples, and whether it was true that Vesuvius regularly belched smoke and flames as Caroline had told him (Murat assured him this was indeed the case). Sensing that his brother-in-law was finally starting to relax, he decided to move on to somewhat more uncomfortable subjects.

"I hope you're not too upset that I didn't let you come to Dresden."

Murat didn't reply.

"It was a trifling affair anyway," Napoleon continued with a dismissive gesture, "and I doubt you would've been interested in seeing all those crowned heads groveling to me."

"I'm sure Your Majesty had your reasons for not wanting me there," Murat said, but Napoleon did not miss the slight touch of bitterness in his tone.

The Emperor smiled thinly. He had, indeed, had his reasons. Given the state of things between the two over the past year, the last thing he needed was for Murat to ingratiate himself with the Austrians, who might start filling his head with all sorts of poisonous ideas. Napoleon did not trust them, even if Francis was his father-in-law now. Bad enough that Metternich and Caroline had already made... connections. That was my fault, he reminded himself. I put her in his path. He had not written off the possibility of Austria trying to detach the King and Queen of Naples from him if, for some unforeseen reason, things were to go awry between France and Austria in the future.

"I thought it far more important to have you here, preparing the cavalry for our imminent advance," he lied.

#NaNoWriMo 2021 #excerpt #writing

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some-dr-writings · 4 years

Text

Gundham x shy reader who asks for kisses

· Gundham always found himself enjoying his time with you, you were by far one of his greatest companions in this life. With how shy and meek you seemed to be when you first met, he never thought someone like you would become his partner, he always imagined that if he were to find one they’d be more outwardly bold, yet he fell for you.

· Time and time again he had seen you try to approach others only to back out, running away in the end. It seemed you might have had a social anxiety of sorts, there had been several times where he had happened upon you after running, leaning against a wall breathing heavily, telling yourself that everything was alright. It was a rather pitiful state to find a person in, Mikan for as… flighty as she was could at least stammer out a few words to people if they talked to her, you on the other hand ended up just blabbering nonsense.

· Well he thought what you spoke was gibberish till one day he found a little tablet on his desk. Curiously he turned on the device and was met with a box of text. “In a fairy tale kingdom far, far away peoples anxieties exist as monsters who follow them around. Tired of their monsters getting in the way of making friendships a shepherd and riddle solver devise a plan to meet without their anxieties. A river divides their lands and in that great river, a single, small island. There they would meet. First they would capture their anxieties and meet on the island in case they escaped to still be away from them. The shepherd successfully captured his monsters but the riddle solver failed, and more monsters were born of the failure, the riddle solver now having “hopelessness”. Can you get the shepherd and the riddle solver to the island? There are several conditions to this however. 1, no monsters can be with the shepherd and the riddle solver on the island, 2, with every trip the boat makes across the river another monster will find the riddle solver, the shepherd’s monsters will find him every other turn, 3, if the shepherd or the riddle solver are with 5 of their monsters they will be consumed and it’s game over, 4, if the shepherd or riddle solver are left with their monsters for three turns they will be consumed by anxiety and it’s game over, 5, the boat needs two people to row it they can be human, monster or both, but the river is too powerful for only one to move the boat”

· Tapping the screen he was greeted to a picture on a person on each side of a river, one of them with a black creatures beside them as well as a boat, and island in the middle of the river. There were also buttons at the top labeled “rules and “hints” and such. The style seemed to be like a picture book. After some tapping around he learned the controls and intrigued by whatever this exactly was he played along. Eventually he found a way for them to meet, but it took much trial and error, and was certainly not helped by the fact he refused to check the hints. In the end when he did beat it he was instructed to leave the tablet in between specific books in the library.

· The next day on his desk he found that tablet again, this time with a new game in it and once beaten, instructed him to hide it in the library once more. Over and over this went on.

· Once more he had solved the mystery of the new game, however he found the library was about to close. Not wanting to have to wait another day for another fun game he and his devas raced for the library. Though everyone was being ushered out Gundham charged through, bolting straight for the appointed section, the crossroads between mathematics and history. There he spotted you, pulling out a book then looking in between books, sliding them over, a tablet exactly like the one Gundham held in hand tucked under your arm. “… Excuse me-” A high pitched squeak sound escaped you as you flipped around, looking to the Dark Overlord, dropping your tablet in the process. “A-ah, oh, uh, h-hi- uh ummm, hamster squeaking, lost, find the-” Then you ran, leaving behind your tablet. Turning it on Gundham found the new mystery had to do with a woman dying and her sister getting her pet hamsters but the person who was to deliver the hamsters to her lost them in a pet store, and though the sister never saw the hamsters before, she could recognize them by their squeaks always hearing them in the background of her video calls with her sister, and the mystery was to figure out which hamsters made which squeaks in the giant group of them.

· “Hmm, so the hiding soul speaks riddles…”

· After the encounter Gundham did research on you, he didn’t know your name or talent, but since Hope’s Peak attendees were always a hot topic on the internet he was sure he could find something on you and that he did, Y/N the Super High School Level Enigmatologist.

· “Hint.” “AH! Oh, uh, huh?” Before you could panic you were consumed in confusion seeing the dark brooding man before you, holding your latest puzzle before you. It was on the hint page, strange since he had never used the hints before. “Your words fall on deaf ears. Extract the meaning of this!” “… uh… n-new hint? Okay.” And so you began mumbling to yourself about the puzzle, while trying to not give away the answer till you came up with a new hint. Then after Gundham had solve it and was given a new puzzle to solve, he insisted that you give him a new hint again, then again with the next puzzle. Every time there after he came to you, asking for a new hint.

· Gundham was rather intrigued by you, who found comfort in puzzle solving, getting lost in finding solutions to strange problems. He was willing to help meet you half way across the river, secluded on an island with you, away from the monsters that consumed you anywhere else, he wanted to get to know you without them in the way.

· He rather liked so much about you, how passionate you were about your craft, going on rants about it for hours, your willingness and even enthusiasm to learn about his passions, how despite your anxieties you always tried your damnest to become a better person and push through them, how you never were confused by his words, always understanding him, how that even extended to his body language and understanding his boundaries on touch.

· You were a rather logical sort even if your emotions of fears tended to get the best of you. It was only natural since you always were working on puzzles. Even emotions to an extent were logical to you. You saw everything, even yourself as a puzzle to be solved, and so often times the solution to aches and pains was affection. Usually you’d ask Gundham what he thought of you, knowing you’d only receive honesty which was mostly praise. Eventually after a long time you would get to hold hands or hug.

· It was a rather lazy, sleepy day, it was just so peaceful, before Gundham knew it the day had already passed and it was past dinner time. “Hmm? Y/N?” Usually you’d have come to see him by dinner, but it seemed you never showed up. Did something happen? Sitting up from his desk he found his devas before him. “Ah, so you know where my mate hides?” He slowly got up following him companions.

· “… the closet?” They simply sniffed at the door, and cautiously he opened it. “Ah!” You sat on the floor, curled up in a ball, cowering in the corner silently. It… had been a very long time since Gundham had last seen you in such a state, it had taken him aback for a moment and there he stood, his mind blank. “G-gundham… affection ple-please.” Your voice cracked and wavered, your breathing ragged. And hearing it almost brought tears to the Ice Lord’s eyes. Did… did you have a panic attack, and he never noticed? Why else would you sound so wreaked?

· He slinked into the closet, closing the door behind himself before sitting beside you. Taking a deep breath, he took one of your hands into both of his own, squeezing it tightly. “Of course my Emperor, one who unravels the world, who reveals the truth behind veils of deceit. How could I not? You who takes my heart each and every moment, you who I cherish so dearly, you who is so cunning, what possible words could I have other than praise and love?” He felt how tight you squeezed his hand, how you trembled. He was not sure this would be enough this time, he had failed to be by our side when you needed it most.

· “… My Emperor. Would you be so kind as to unravel my next words?” “… a riddle?” “Yes. Would you solve my riddle?” “o-okay.” “I… I, uh…” Preferably Gundham wanted to come up with a good riddle, one that you would have to think on for a long time, but he doubted he could come up with one. You had asked for affection so maybe… “I am… I am one action that can only ever be shared by two at a time. I am a way to show love. I am… uh… I am-” “A hug?” “…” Slowly Gundham wrapped his arms around you. “I am… something Gundham has never shared with you before.” “Huh? Something……… a kiss?”

· Damn it. Gundham thought the darkness would make this easier but it only made him more anxious. Placing his hands on your shoulders, he clutched them in a tight grip. Okay! He could do this! He could hug you, and this was less contact than a hug, so he could do this!

· “of course… someone as brilliant as you could solve my twisted words.” Leaning into you, he felt as if his heart were trembling. Even in darkness he closed his eyes. He tenderly pressed his lips to your forehead for a few moments before somehow managing to loosen the grip on our shoulders, though his fingers were still tense. Slowly he traced them up your neck as he pressed his lips on the bridge of your nose. Finally his hands stopped, cradling your head in them, allowing him to easily kiss your cheeks.

· “P-perhaps… we can… prepare a meal for ourselves and by the time we’re finished I’ll have come up with an even more confounding riddle for you.”

#gundham tanaka #gundham x reader #Mod Gundham #danganronpa #danganronpa 2 #danganronpa2 #Super Danganronpa 2 #danganronpa imagine #danganronpa imagines #danganronpa 2 imagine #danganronpa 2 imagines #dr imagine #dr imagines #dr 2 imagine #dr 2 imagines #danganronpa x reader

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just2bubbly · 3 years

Text

Perfect Now

Masterlist

TLC Ship Week 2021!

*written for tlcshipweek2021- kaider for prompt 'Song Day AU'

@kaiderforever

Summary:

He keeps the crown on her head making sure to not disturb her intricate yet beautiful braid.

"Now you, My Queen are perfectly ready!"

...

Last minute panicked thoughts can make a person desperate for escape, a mildly insecure Cinder looks for comfort in her boyfriend- one who is having a trip down his memory lane.

Ship: Kaider

Words: 2k

Genre: Hurt- Comfort, Trip down a memory lane

Prompt: 'Song Day AU'

Song: Perfect Now by Louis Tomlinson

*Post Winter

A/N: Some mild changes are made in the song lyrics to meet the Cinder's characters.

Bold Letters are Song Lyrics

Italics are memories

Plain words are present

Kai's Perspective:

You say to me your jeans don't fit You don't feel pretty and it's hard to miss

"Kai, I don't think this is a good idea- like I feel we should just stay inside..."

"Cinder, you do seem to realize that you are the one hosting the party?" he asked only to receive a nod for confirmation as she examined herself in the mirror.

"I don't think you can ditch your own party, one which has so many international leaders in it at least."

"Can't you just go and tell them I'm sick or something like that?" she lamented.

Now, this took him by surprise, Cinder had put hours and minutes to make the State Dinner cum Lunar Ball a success and seeing how she wanted to last-minute ditch it was strange.

"Hey, everything okay?" he questioned, standing behind her.

"Yeah," she said, offering him a short smile, "Just stressed out to back out last minute."

I wish that you could see my point of view As someone staring back at you

Nudging his head in the crook of her neck, he placed his lips at the base of the collar bone, "Don't worry, you would do good!"

"Easy for you to say- I'm panicking on the inside! This is my first time trying to act like royalty. I'm even wearing a pretty dress hosting a big parade of leaders like the Queen of Luna. I just don't want anyone to think I'm the incompetent Queen who has no idea of what ruling a country is- I really don't want to come out as a fool to anyone," she rambled.

"Cinder, look at me," he asked and stared into her eyes, "You will do fantastic and not come out as an ignorant ruler to anyone. I will be there to help you through it remember?"

"I don't think asking you how to use the cutlery at the dinner table is the best thing to do to make an impression," she sassed him.

"Now that depends on the person sitting near you- you won't want Queen Camilla seeing you be unroyal enough to not know how to hold your spoon now would you?" he retorted.

"Well, I'm worried about that too," she admitted, clearly going back to the same topic from which Kai was trying to drive her away.

Sighing he asked, "Is this because of what happened the day before yesterday?"

Reluctantly she nodded her head, her reflection seen in the mirror before them.

"C'mon no one cares even in the slightest if you hugged me before all the masses of people and journalists, I have heard we are quite trending in today's news-"

"Kai, you are not helping!"

"Maybe you could go for a kiss next time," he suggested.

"Ha, as if I would, after what happened?!" she exclaimed.

"Who cares about what Camilla and Andrea think anyways?"

Cinder had made a nice fuss in her own mind trying to regret her decision of bear-hugging Kai before everyone, which on his part he was delighted about. And maybe Queen Camilla and Prime Minister Andrea had been a bit too loud about speaking of Cinder's rash actions.

"Hmm.. yeah. Obviously, I do," she said, clearly not paying attention to her words.

"Did you sleep yesterday?" he asked.

"A little bit," she hesitantly admitted.

"How long?" he demanded.

"A few hours maybe-" he shot her a glare which did its work as she answered,"- two hours."

"Stars above, if not for this ball. I would have put you to bed."

"What's the hurry, Kai?" she asked, making the tips of his ears flush light pink.

"Okay- okay. I think you are fine now that you want to flirt with me!" he affirmed.

She smirked and moved around to face him, setting her hands on his shoulders and laughed, "Scared of me, are you, Emperor?"

He pulled her closer, holding her in a warm embrace and whispered, "Aren't you wickedly evil, Your Majesty?"

He leaned in closer, capturing her lips with his own, tasting the red lipstick she had put. Before they could initiate anything more intimate, there was a knock on the door followed by Iko's voice, "You two should really come out before someone makes the right assumptions about what you are doing in there!"

Now this made both of them flush with embarrassment as they gave flustered looks towards the door anticipating the arrival of Iko inside. She never came saving them both from a lot of discomforts.

"Well, I think we should get going?" he questioned.

"Yeah, I think I need a moment," she replied.

"Then I would-"

She cut off his words, asking," Would you please stay here?"

"Uh- Sure, Cinder," he replied.

"Thank You, Kai." She said looking relieved.

He decided to sit on the armchair till she picked herself up to look like a regal Queen. With silence for his only companion, his mind wandered around, thinking about the person standing a few feet away from him.

One Friday night when we're all out I turn to you and you're looking down And you don't wanna dance I know you love to dance You never stop given half the chance

"He looked at her only to find her avoiding his gaze. Staying back he asked, "Hey, what happened?"

"Uh- nothing!" she lied terribly.

"Cinder are you going to really make me believe that?"

"I don't know but just buy that lie," she pleaded.

"You don't want to get your hands dirty?"

"I don't feel like myself right now."

Surprised he incredulously asked, "You, a mechanic doesn't want to go under a podship and get your hands dirty?"

"No," she muttered.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"You just seem stranger than usual self."

"Trust me, Kai, I don't want to become dirty before my first diplomat meeting as the Queen while another mechanic is already present there," she insisted.

"Fine then.""

Just keep your head up, love, keep your head up Don't hide away, don't ever change

"Kai, do you think I should get a Garan's device too?"

"Well, I don't think you need to have that device. Like irrespective of what people tell you and what you try to convince yourself- you are a Lunar. The Lunar gift is surely fabulous- like don't get me wrong but you can feel someone's bio-electricity, it's sorta a blessing in disguise unless you decide to use it for the wrong purposes- I know you won't do that. Practically, I think it might help in Earth-Lunar political relations if you have the device but it does not really make much of a difference. Winter has it yet stupid leaders think she is manipulating them with her beauty. I think you should not install it- the gift is a part of you. Being Lunar- It is what you are! Don't change it because some angry citizen calls you a Lunar witch. You are what you are and I love you for that!"

"Kai if I would have been there I would have kissed you senseless!"

"Good, I don't deserve anything less after making such a sentimental speech," he said, smirking.

Keep your head up love, keep your head up Don't look away, don't look away 'Cause everybody's looking at you now My, oh, my

That time when she had addressed the issues on cyborgs and Lunar- discrimination on Earth. Her eyes were ablaze with passion as she happens to look determined to make a difference. To change the wrong-doings around her, to change the age-old prejudices in the society- to change the future of both her nation and her kind.

"-I believe that together we can make a difference. I hope the sufferings of people in the society decline and look forward to the situations changing for cyborgs, Lunars and Earthens. I look forward to a world where we can live together harmoniously. I consider that no one is liable for the nature of misery and treatment that my kind has suffered in the past. I trust we can change the world for every one of us- for the better of my kind."

Even when your tears are falling down Still somehow You're perfect now

""I'm so relieved that I can't cry right now."

"Cinder, I told you it would have been fine and I'm sorry... Besides I care- "

"Kai, they happen to call me names. I did not want to look like a sick crybaby before them who cried just because I was called an 'ugly Lunar slash Cyborg','" she fumed.

Seeing how she needed comfort more than ever, he hugged her, drawing circles on her back- trying to loosen the tension in her shoulders.

"Cinder, even if you were ugly crying right now, you would have been the most beautiful person in the world," he reassured, meaning them.

"You are perfect just the way you are!""

You never do but if you asked me to I'd tell the truth lying next to you 'Cause you're the only one When it's said and done You make me feel like being someone good to you

He wondered if he should tell her how beautiful she was. She was the perfect mixture of strength, compassion and determination. She never fetched compliments, never asked Kai how she looked, if she was pretty. That did not stop Kai from showering her with affections that she had been lost on in her early years.

Even at your worst You steal the scene and it's unrehearsed

"Queen Selene Channary Jannali Blackburn was sighted in the outer sector TC-6 helping a young man of 20 named, Mr. Stiton. He tells that he was facing difficulties when Her Majesty encountered him during her tour to sector LM-14. He states that she helped him fix one of the technical difficulties faced while flying a podship. Her Majesty previously had worked as a mechanic in the city of New Beijing. Sources tell she was the best in town."

Kai wondered who these so-called sources were. Somehow Cinder managed to excel at unexpected works- even when she was not trying, she had everyone's attention.

'Every insecurity as a neon sign as bright as day'

"Kai, I really think I should cover my hand! Just pass me the glo-"

"No! You are not wearing the gloves to cover your hand," he denied, making sure to keep the said pair of gloves away from his girlfriend.

"It's so different, not to mention with the hand being gloveless I feel naked, can't you please give me that glove, please," she begged, with a pout.

"Cinder, I said 'No'. There's no way I'm going to let you wear that. Stars- and Iko wanted you to flaunt your leg!" he exclaimed, dragging his girlfriend out.

How could a person as bold and determined and beautiful as Cinder, ever feel insecure?

If you knew what you were to me You would never try to hide away

Cinder, through her own eyes, was an unworthy soul but if she only knew what she meant to Kai- more than just a lover. Within just a year, she was his everything. She was the one- being with her made him whole, made him feel blissful and lively, like all of sudden his life had found its meaning. She was like the water in a desert, the fire in the cold, the chill in the heat. He would convey the depth of his feelings someday- not today. This was a conversation for another day.

I guess some queens don't need a crown And I know why

She looked too good, even powerful without the Lunar crown and Kai finally understood the meaning of, 'Some Queens don't need crowns.'

Still somehow You're perfect now

He keeps the crown on her head making sure to not disturb her intricate yet beautiful braid.

"Now you, My Queen are perfectly ready!"

A/N: Hurt-Comfort Trope or was that too much insecurity!? This I think is the last of my 'insecure' fics.

It was written for 'Song Day AU' using the song 'Perfect Now' by Louis Tomlinson (If you have not listened it by now you better do it right away!) Just Emperor Kai love in his girlfriend Queen Selene- not going to miss a chance to call her perfect now, is he?

I have short-listed too many songs for this prompt and I'm likely going to try to write for all of them.

Be sure to comment and vote.

I do take requests so if you want you can hit me up (I write for Kaider only.)

Taglist: @cinderswrench @gingerale2017 @linhcinder686 @shellyseashell @ladyvesuvia @shelbylmkaider @levanariddle @cindersassasin @kaider-is-my-otp (Tell me if you wanna be added/removed)

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sullustangin · 3 years

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Socrates and the Echoes of Oblivion

After re-playing Echoes of Oblivion, I’m thinking that this part of the patch is a massive Socratic Problem.

Disclaimer: I think the Flashpoint was under-written (not enough time/money/vocal talent due to COVID) which led to no major new revelations about any of the characters. If we had found out new stuff, then I think I would be more inclined to say it is what the game says it is: an adventure in Satele’s mind. But since we didn’t, it wasn’t. This is me going off on a lark again, so enjoy the theorycrafting.

What is the Socratic Problem?

So, when Socrates was condemned for 'impiety’ and ‘corrupting the young’ -- aka, stirring sedition and civil unrest against a corrupt government - not only was he put to death but all of his works were destroyed as well. Essentially, all we know today about Socrates and his philosophy come through his students. Plato is a biggie. He claims many times throughout his works that a certain opinion was Socrates, and he also used him as the ‘hero’ or main character in his philosophical dialogues - Socrates almost always wins.

Here’s the Socratic Problem: is this a true representation of Socrates, as he was? Or is this the fond memory of a dear student of a lost master? Is Plato telling the facts, telling the truth, or making Socrates fan fiction?

....what the hell does that have to do with Echoes of Oblivion?

I think we’re dealing with the same problem here when we supposedly go into Satele’s mind. I don’t think we do. I think this is just another exploration of the mind of the player character and their trauma from the last 10 years.

Is Satele sick with a virus? Yes. Is the Emperor trying to grow a collective being that he can manifest in? Yes, preferably Satele-shaped and powered by her students’ life force.

But the second that the player goes into that trance with Kira and Scourge, everything is only happening in the player’s mind. Nobody else is in there. Darth Marr suggests as much. When the player chooses “You seem very insightful,” he replies, “I know only what you know.”

It’s like writing your own fan fic -- your characters know what you know, as the author. If they make a mistake about their own biography, it’s because you lacked the knowledge. In turn, if they are aware of something other characters are not, it’s because of you. To me, that line says that everything we see happen is the Alliance Commander’s ‘mental fan fic’ about killing the Emperor.

There is no revelation of information about the characters that the player works with. We learn nothing new about Scourge, Kira, the Emperor’s family, Revan -- we’ve met all of them, but there’s no ‘secret past’ uncovered....

Not even for Satele... whose mind we’re supposedly in.

And indeed, the only things the character sees are their own memories. Remember that little padawan on Tython? That’s not Satele; Satele re-discovered Tython -- she was never a student there.

Why do all of the possible player character classes have memories of Tython? Because of the Tython/Korriban incursions. (I know mechanically, this is skippable in game, but work with me here.) The Outlander becomes the Outlander because they caught the eye of the Emperor at Ziost, which only happens because of Yavin 4, which only happens because of Rishi, which only happens because of the conspiracy discovered at Tython and Korriban.

This makes me want to conclude that we’re never in Satele’s head, actually; there is nothing revealed about her that we don’t already know. So who is the padawan? Maybe the player saw one of the little kids cowering after the incursion -- maybe that stuck in their minds for good or bad. But historically speaking, that is absolutely not Satele.

And Marr let us in on that secret... but that’s not Marr. That is our memory of Marr. Marr the realist. Marr, who confronted the truth that his approach to the Force had been wrong in life -- and admitted it. Marr, the truth teller. Marr the Socratic Problem.

In fact, all the people we see in that dream/vision/mind adventure are our Socratic images of people we’ve encountered before. That includes Revan, who the player met during the Yavin 4 op and appears as a Force ghost before they go into a trance.

...ok. So what was the whole flashpoint, by that logic?

The flashpoint isn’t Satele’s mind. It’s the playable character’s mind. Everything that happens? Essentially the player’s fan fic about how they really killed the Emperor. Everything is representative and completely controlled by the memory of the player. Remember, “My mind, my rules” in the finale of KotET.

That is, until the very end when Satele ‘wakes up’ and reveals that she and her students have been playing dead, essentially; they let the Emperor think he had consumed and dominated them. They let his arrogance think they had toppled easy, with Satele barely hanging on by a thread. While she dangled, the Emperor turned his attention to the player character. The second that the player entered the trance, Satele, the students, and the Emperor all ‘changed instances’ to the player’s mind, not Satele’s mind. The only things there are things that that the player knew.

What purpose does the Commander serve?

Remember that the door swung two ways on the whole Emperor’s occupation of the Outlander’s mind. Not only could the Outlander not get rid of Valkorion, but Valkorion could not get out. He never does regain the power to use the Outlander as a meat puppet; the Outlander fights too hard for Valkorion to get up off that throne and kill Lana/Theron/Senya/Arcann.

Basically, Scourge and Kira are using the Commander as a cage. Remember that the imprint of Tenebrae (the so-called virus) doesn’t know anyone. Valkorion, Vitiate -- they’re manifestations of a personality that is currently running on a backup file that was made once and not updated. Valkorion ‘knows’ thanks to Kira’s memories that he lived in the Outlander. Vitiate ‘knows’ he controlled Kira and the Jedi Knight in the past... but neither of them remember how that worked. They have the facts, gleaned from sources after the fact, but they have no active memory of doing these things.

That means Valkorion doesn’t necessarily ‘know’ or ‘remember’ how trapped he was in the Outlander’s mind. He sees this powerful person, he wants that powerful person to control... and can’t remember what happened last time.

The Emperor is all too keen to run into the trap that is the Commander’s head. Another big powerful creature like Satele Shan he can dominate and control -- and off he went to try to consume the player’s mind. But he forgot what happened at the end of that story!

But Satele says it’s her mind and her trap.

And so it is. I do think Satele was containing the Emperor until Scourge and Kira arrived with the player character. As I say above, I think there’s a moment where everyone ‘changed instances’ into the player’s mind, which is the cage of Valkorion. Otherwise, I think we would have seen things and done things that would reveal more about Satele. We only see and hear things that the player knew before they went into a trance.

Ultimately, the spirit/essence/soul/whatever of the Emperor is defeated by the Jedi Force plan thing that Scourge and Kira and Satele cooked up. They just use the player as a holding pen, essentially; worked before, so why not now?

Also, the end scene of the the flashpoint (the one with Satele) can be very self-indulgent. Want to kill Satele? Oh, if only you could. You want to confess how you regret your decision regarding exiling/killing Theron? Forgive me, Mother, for I have sinned. Want your mother-in-law’s approval, if you romanced Theron? Here you go. Want a Grand Master to say what a great and powerful Jedi/Sith you are? You get a compliment, you get a compliment... It’s whatever the player wants Satele to say to them. So again, this is all a happy coda to the flashpoint that the player in their own mind dreams up. (Granted, is that not the function of video games? Us being the hero? Us getting a little wish fulfillment?)

Can that still be real, if we 'change instances’ back into Satele’s mind once the Emperor is defeated? Sure. If you believe Dream!Satele is real (and reusing her campground on Odessen), go for it.

As I said at the top, I have a feeling this is more of a product of under-developed writing than a deliberate deep dive in to Socrates. I wish we did find out more about Satele; Theron indicated he didn’t want to go in because he didn’t want to dig deep into her psyche. He didn’t know what we would find -- turned out to be nothing, but... there could have been something.

#swtor #swtor 6.2 #echoes of oblivion #socrates #satele shan #darth marr

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five-miles-over · 3 years

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Father of Dragons (Emperor Commodus AU)

Summary: Eight-year-old Lucius Aelius Aurelius Commodus is enchanted by the tales of the first dragons that lived in Rome. One night, while visiting his deceased brother’s tomb, the sole heir of Emperor Marcus Aurelius witnesses those very tales being brought to life.

Word Count: 1,326

Warnings: Mentions of sibling death, some historical inaccuracy (as far as I know, there probably were not real dragons in Rome. I just wanted a chance to see my favorite emperor interact with them)

For young Lucius Aelius Aurelius Commodus, mythology was more than a collection of simple bedtime stories. They were aspirational tales of divine valor for the rising emperor in him, and a fantastical escape for the playful child within him. Tired of hearing tutors drone for hours about insipid philosophy and mind-numbing mathematical theorems, the legends of brave kings, beautiful nymphs, and horrifying-yet-powerful creatures was an oasis of wonder for the eight-year-old. Whether many of those stories were actually true or not was an entirely different matter; he loved them and believed in them with unwavering faith.

"Pompeii…after the eruption of Vesuvius?"

"Yes, Highness," Servilla, governess of the young emperor of Rome, narrated to him one night. "It was said that the first dragon eggs were found at the foot of the volcano after the eruption of Mount Vesuvius had taken place."

Little Commodus sat up excitedly in bed, eager to hear more.

"There were three of them, buried beneath layers of ash and ignored for several years until the eruption. It is said that dragon eggs could be hatched in the presence of roaring flames, and can only occur with the sacrifice of human blood. The legends say the many lives lost in Pompeii was the necessary offering for the gods to bring the dragons to Earth."

"Who is the patron god of dragons, Servilla? Is it Lord Vulcan?"

"I am afraid that I do not know, Highness." She raised her veil above her head, and tucked back a curl of hair. "After the dragons had hatched, they were sold as commodities in the public markets of Pompeii. Bought by frivolous aristocrats, they were a source of entertainment while they were little creatures who spit sparks of fire. The poor believed them to be favored by the gods, perhaps even a reincarnation of the Greek hero Agamemnon. He was said to wear a blue dragon motif on his sword belt when he fought in battle, and a three-headed dragon on his breast plate."

"Was one of the dragons blue, Servilla?"

"One of them was blue-scaled, another was red-scaled, while another had black scales. When they grew up, all of Rome wanted them dead. They were too big to keep as pets, and were very quick to anger. They breathed fire among those who displeased them, and always wanted large portions of food. Sometimes," she whispered in a menacing tone and reached for the little emperor. "They would snatch young boys playing and eat them up!"

"They would never catch me!" Commodus laughed as he was being tickled. "I would not make them angry."

"After several complaints from the people of Pompeii, Caesar Caligula decided to adopt the dragons himself. He wanted to train them to be his personal weapons. In his mind, the dragons would be strong enough to destroy anyone who dared to stand up against his rule.

They were mighty and could never be killed. They were the strongest creatures in the entire empire! However, the dragons fled the mad emperor. It is unknown where the two of the dragons escaped to, but the bones of one of the dragons were found in the city of Lanuvium, near the sea. His rotting red scales became one with the sand, and his teeth disappeared to the bottom of the ocean."

"How long do dragons live?"

"They are said to be able to live for centuries, Highness. That is, if they do not die in combat."

Despite Commodus adorably protesting for more details about the legendary dragons of Pompeii, asking if they ever had any progeny, and if they ever served another emperor, Servilla gently told Commodus that it was late and a good rest was necessary. She bade him good night and blew out the candles in his chamber.

————————————————————————————————————————

"And Servilla said that Emperor Caligula tried to tame them, and they soon escaped after his assassination. Tales of their ferocity were sung in the streets - one of them escaped to Lanuvium!"

Commodus waved his hands about as he retold his governess's stories to the coffin, barely a week he'd heard them himself. It was almost customary for the young emperor to visit the crypts every so often and "talk" to his deceased loved ones as if they were really there. Commodus knelt before the tomb of his brother Annius, not caring for the dust soiling his legs. It had been barely ten days after his eighth nameday, and yet it seemed as if Fate had decided to play a trick upon him…by taking away the last remaining brother he had.

"I swear, 'tis almost as if pre-ordained by the gods! I must ask Father when we go there again - there could even be baby dragons waddling along the beaches. It would be a delight to see."

The young emperor was interrupted by the sound of his name being called, most likely by Lucilla. He murmured a silent prayer to his brother's tomb before picking up a flaming torch to find his way up the stairs. Commodus tip-toed along one hallway, only to be encountered by an intimidating marble statue of the late Emperor Antoninus Pius - Commodus's own maternal grandfather. Dismissing this pathway as a dead end, he turned around and attempted to find another way out.

Suddenly, Commodus tripped over something - he couldn't quite see it well, but it was certainly heavy - and the torch fell from his pale hands. Yet to his surprise, the fire did not seem to hurt him at all, his skin remaining unblemished in the split second when the flames brushed against his arm. No burning sensation of any kind…the fire almost felt like the water from his bath. Comforting, in a strange way.

Perplexed, he grabbed another torch from the wall of the crypt, bringing it closer to the floor. What was it that caused him to trip? It was a chest, with enigmatic engravings all over it.

"Gods…"

With one hand holding the torch and the other fiddling with the lock, Commodus boldly opened the chest. Inside were three eggs - all scaly, yet of different hues - nestled in a bed of straw. One of them was crimson red, with black tips on its scales. The middle one bore a shade of emerald and twitched at the sight of Commodus, while the right-most egg was obsidian-hued with gold tips on its scales. They all seemed to have a few cracks, as if they had already begun to hatch.

Dragon eggs could be hatched in the presence of roaring flames, Servilla told him earlier.

Without much thought, the young emperor set the eggs on fire, dousing all three of them in flames. His green eyes widened with excitement as the eggs fidgeted and the shells continued to crack. After what felt like several enchanting hours, the flames finally subsided and in the place of the eggs, there were three baby dragons surrounded by broken shells.

Commodus knelt before them, extending his left hand as the crimson-colored dragon pecked at his palm. It was almost like playing with the birds in the palace courtyard. He even let himself chuckle as they croaked and breathed little puffs of warm smoke.

"You're so beautiful," he immediately gushed out of admiration for the little beasts. "As the one who brought you to life, I promise to care for you like my own kin."

Commodus turned to the crimson one, naming it 'Marcus' after his father. With a grin, he decided to call the green dragon 'Commodiana' because it bore the same color as Commodus's own eyes. And as for the obsidian one with flakes of gold, Commodus named it 'Annius' as homage to his late brother.

"Commodus!" His elder sister Lucilla rushed down the stairs and let a shrill cry escape from her lips as soon as she saw where he was. The princess was horrified at the little beasts, immediately asking her brother what he was doing.

"They are dragons, Lucilla, and so am I."

#commodus #emperor commodus #commodus au #commodus thirst squad #commodus fic #commodus imagines

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baoshan-sanren · 4 years

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Chapter 52

Emperor Wei WuXian And His Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Birthday

“Perhaps I do not actually require a palace,” the Royal Companion says.

XiChen hears the words clearly, each one perfectly audible over the sounds of the guqin. The Rogue Prince had taken his leave only moments ago, but Lady Jiang is still present, having settled at the head of the bed. The Royal Companion had settled at the bottom, with an ease that suggested he had done so frequently in the past.

The words sounds nonsensical to XiChen’s ears, but the atmosphere in the Imperial chambers noticeably shifts, the Emperor stiffening in WangJi’s arms. A silence descends, just as incomprehensible as the words had been. XiChen is not familiar with the Royal Companion’s mannerisms, but the young man is holding himself stiffly as well, his lazy posture doing little to conceal the tension of his muscles.

Perhaps the sentence is a code that only the Emperor and the Royal Companion understand?

Still being held up by WangJi, the Emperor turns his head and whispers softly, words that are clearly meant for his brother’s ears only. He is reclining easily in WangJi’s arms, their heads close together, their cheeks nearly brushing.

XiChen turns his gaze back to the guqin.

It is not uncomfortable, precisely, watching his brother be so easily intimate with a person he cares for, but it is very much out of the ordinary. WangJi’s cool demeanor conceals a heart prone to excess of emotion, a depth of feeling that has always existed beneath the surface, rigorously concealed from the world. To see the Emperor so easily coax that emotion out into the open is miraculous, but it is also unsettling; XiChen does not know if the Emperor comprehends the true extent of WangJi’s affection, or how precious and rare it is, to have it so visibly displayed.

“Young Master Lan,” the Emperor says, startling him out of his thoughts.

Lady Jiang and WangJi are helping him shift into a better position, propped up against pillows and covers, no longer having to rely on WangJi for support. Despite his obvious physical weakness, the Emperor’s tone is clear and forceful. It is a skill, the ability to don a mantle of power and authority all while being maneuvered about one’s bed in such an undignified manner. XiChen both respects and envies this ability.

“Your Majesty?”

“I am grateful for your assistance, but I believe you are long overdue for some much needed rest. Would you be so kind to escort my shijie back to her chambers? Lan Zhan will continue the Cleansing in your place.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty.”

Of course, the insistence that he pass his duties to WangJi and rest, is nothing more than a polite method of removing him from the Emperor’s chambers. Any doubts he may have had would have been dispelled by WangJi’s vaguely apologetic look as he replaces XiChen at the guqin.

XiChen does not require an apology. He is tired and restless, his aching wrists welcoming any interruption of the tedious task. The two Imperial guards at the entrance are also ordered to take their duties outside, leaving WangJi and the Emperor alone with the Royal Companion.

In the hall outside the Imperial chambers, Lady Jiang smiles, “I hope you are not offended by such an abrupt dismissal, Young Master Lan. I am sure, once the situation at court has been stabilized, the Emperor will properly express his gratitude. We are in your debt.”

“There is no need,” XiChen says, realizing that he had not expected gratitude, nor does he know what to do with such a sentiment, “I am sure anyone would have done the same.”

“They would not have,” Lady Jiang says easily, her tone unchanging, “but thinking so does you credit. Please do not feel obliged to provide an escort. I am sure the Imperial guards will prove equal to the task, and my chambers are not far.”

Taken aback by the frankness of her words, he only bows in response.

He had not yet considered all the political repercussions of the Lan Sect having saved an Emperor who is so frequently a subject of assassination attempts, but Lady Jiang’s words raise many questions he cannot answer.

What will be the consequences of the Lan Sect aligning themselves so firmly with a Divine Ruler who does not intend to father an heir? Will their actions, committed over the course of the last day and night, be seen as monumentous as the assassination of the Empress had been? Can any succession of honorable deeds ever erase the dishonors of the past?

At this very moment, uncle has many more pressing issues to consider, and will doubtlessly remain occupied by them for days to come. But XiChen wishes he could simply yield to his uncle’s understanding of the matters, as he often had in the past, without having to reason out the answers to these questions on his own.

Chagrin immediately descends, propelling his restless feet to move, as if urging him to run away from such uncomfortable thoughts. XiChen is to be the future Sect leader, to occupy the same seat that uncle now holds. He should never shy away from being guided by those who came before him, but his deference has always been a little too excessive. It is a frequent source of his brother’s frustration, XiChen’s insistence on ceding ground to avoid disharmony and conflict.

It is not for the lack of firm beliefs that XiChen so often gives way. It is simply a habit, one borne of insecurity. In order to hold firm in the face of opposition, one must believe that their own understanding is impeachable, that their opinions have been properly formed, that they are indisputably in the right. XiChen firmly believes that Nie MingJue’s intentions are honorable and genuine, that his own affection is steadfast and unimpeachable, but he has never possessed the necessary self-confidence to insist on this belief in the face of uncle’s disapproval.

Lack of a spine is not a virtue, but XiChen had dressed it up as such, so that others may admire his amicable nature, while he, alone, is left to despise the roots from which it grew. He wonders how long he would have gone on this way, draping his self-doubts in a cloak of respectful deference, had Nie MingJue not entered his life.

As if summoned by his thoughts, Nie MingJue appears at the head of the hall, his stride quick and purposeful. Guards had been sent to inform him that the Emperor is awake, XiChen remembers, and the man doubtlessly expects to be admitted to the Emperor’s chambers without delay. XiChen is certain that Nie MingJue will be disappointed in his expectations. Any conversation that requires the removal of both Lady Jiang and the Imperial guards from the Emperor’s presence must be highly sensitive in nature, and is likely to go on for some time.

The General of the Emperor’s army is no longer wearing his armor, his Nie Sect uniform silver and black, the cut severe, clearly intended to project authority. In the early morning gloom, his face is a collection of shifting shadows, his mood impossible to discern. Faced with such a presence, the few servants finishing up their nightly tasks scurry out of the way with their heads bowed, the guards straighten their shoulders as if expecting to be scolded, even the walls themselves seem to stand at attention.

It strikes XiChen fiercely, how the attributes he admires so fervently in Nie MingJue are those he has always felt a lack of in himself. Even the man’s boldness, so often displayed in mortifying ways, is a trait that XiChen wishes he can possess. It has inspired a boldness of his own, although it appears pitiful when compared to MingJue’s. In the same vein, his own temperance is likely to have suppressed at least some of MingJue’s brashness. They fit, the two of them; one yielding while the other remains unmoved, one sure to hesitate while the other barrels bravely onward.

Do you truly think that there is a single part of you that I will not admire?

MingJue does not have a chance to express his obvious surprise at encountering XiChen during such an early hour, nor is he given an opportunity to ask any questions. XiChen is not certain what his course of action would have been, had MingJue resisted the firm grip on his wrist, had he refused to let himself be steered. To his relief, MingJue obediently allows XiChen to pull him aside, to push him past the unguarded doors of the Emperor’s study.

The room beyond faces south, the early morning light some hours away from reaching the single window hole. XiChen is relieved. He does not want MingJue to see the flush across his cheeks, or to discern the anxiety in his eyes.

Under his hands, MingJue’s braids are impossibly intricate, each one a tiny, delicate wonder. Under his mouth, MingJue is made rigid by surprise.

XiChen had not exactly expected an immediate response. This action, this impulse decision, it is so unlike himself that MingJue may as well think he has been accosted by a stranger. Still, each breath is centuries long, each one riddled with seeds of doubt.

Perhaps XiChen was wrong after all. Perhaps Nie MingJue does not wish to--

He is pulled forward with such force that he stumbles over his own feet. The cold steel of MingJue’s belt scrapes across the tender flesh of his stomach, an earth shattering contact even through two layers of robes. MingJue’s tongue, hot and insistent, licks into his mouth, sliding against his own. The sensation is a shock; XiChen feels it all along his spine, curving around his limbs, pressing into each sensitive stretch of his skin. He does not realize he had tightened his hold on the handful of braids until MingJue makes a sound, a pitiful noise that seems to border on pain. Even as XiChen struggles to release his grip, the arms around his body tighten, a searing hot palm pressed against his shoulder blades locking him in place.

XiChen has never kissed, or been kissed. The few times he had imagined such an act, it had been a rarely reached conclusion of some distinctly chaste fantasies, gone no further than lips pressing together, breathing each other’s air. He does not think that any stretch of fantasies could have prepared him for this.

He is certain that his lack of skill must be obvious. Yet, each hesitant lick of his tongue is followed by a series of shudders he can clearly feel cross MingJue’s shoulders. His own trembling, impossible to suppress, is made less shameful by the knowledge that MingJue is equally as affected. It seems impossible to concentrate on anything but the movement of their lips, the slick slide of their tongues, but XiChen manages to release the handfuls of braids he had gripped. MingJue whines softly, a noise that sounds suspiciously like a complaint.

When their lips part, XiChen finds himself struggling to breathe normally, his chest both too tight for the air he needed, and somehow larger than the space it must occupy.

“XiChen,” MingJue rasps.

His voice is raw and thick, the sound unexpectedly arousing. XiChen is moving to kiss him again before realizing that he has done so, and manages to pull back just in time.

Firmly placing his hands on MingJue’s shoulders, he tries to say what must be said, words he had avoided since his last argument with uncle, “You-- my uncle will only allow your presence at Cloud Recesses if I enter secluded meditation for the duration of your visit. I will not attempt to convince him to change his mind. He does not trust me to behave-- in a virtuous manner, nor do I intend to persuade him otherwise.”

MingJue makes a soft sound, but XiChen does not look up; he is embarrassed enough by the admission as it is, he does not want to know what expression MingJue’s face may hold.

“You had said once that your situation is not nearly as inflexible as my own. If you are still willing-- to offer me a lifetime, I am ready to listen.”

He has hardly finished speaking when MingJue’s mouth finds his own again, infinitely more careful this time, the act very close to the chaste kiss of XiChen’s fantasies. XiChen is the one who presses closer, deepening the kiss, feeling brave and reckless in the wake of his confession.

Perhaps he may never possess MingJue’s boldness, but he has managed to find some of his own in the process; as paltry as such a thing may appear to be, if it serves to ensure him a lifetime of happiness, he will never again view it with scorn.

#the untamed #cql #mdzs #nielan #m #ficlet #wwx emperor au #xichen is being silly and self-deprecating #the emperor's study sees some more action #some things are decided #but no things are fully resolved #and onward we go #ily chickens

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ibijau · 3 years

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You’re a marked man, brother, part 5 (end) / also on AO3

With everything over, Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue move forward

After returning to the Heavenly Court, Lan Xichen, Lan Wangji, and Nie Mingjue had to report to the Jade Emperor what they had discovered about Jin Guangyao. This, in turn, created a great deal of chaos to be dealt with, and a number of heavenly officials were demoted as a result of this reveal. No matter how clever Jin Guangyao had been, no matter how powerful the fate changing spell and the curse laid on Nie Huaisang, it would have been impossible for Jin Guangyao to remain in place for this long without anyone noticing. In the days that followed his death, a number of his former friends, his subordinates, and at least one higher ranking civil god were revealed to have at least suspected he didn’t belong in the Heavenly Court, and to have profited from his position to scheme and get away with corruption.

There was a trial.

Aside from those former associates forced to confess their crimes, Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen were also called to explain what they had discovered, and the circumstances of those discoveries. To recount these events in front of their peers, to explain how they had both been tricked into betraying someone they’d loved as dearly as Nie Huaisang, was a true torture.

When it was over, when the emperor had given his judgement and they were free at last, Nie Mingjue took Lan Xichen to his palace. Truly, Lan Xichen had barely stepped inside his own home the whole time. He couldn’t bear to be there and see marks of Jin Guangyao’s presence, constant reminders of how he had been so thoroughly fooled. It wasn’t that they hadn’t all three made memories in Nie Mingjue’s palace as well, but Lan Xichen felt the sting of betrayal a little less strongly there.

Still, it was the first time the two of them were alone since everything unfolded, and for the first time in their long acquaintance Lan Xichen felt uncomfortable as they sat together, Nie Mingjue pouring wine for both of them. Lan Xichen didn’t normally drink, but on that day he decided an exception might be needed.

“So,” Nie Mingjue said when he sat as well, glaring at his cup of wine. “You and Huaisang.”

Shivering slightly, Lan Xichen put down his own cup of alcohol. Perhaps drinking would be unwise after all. He'd known they couldn't avoid that conversation forever, so why not get it over now, when they'd already exposed so much of themselves?

“Me and Huaisang,” he confirmed in a whisper, nodding slowly.

“How long…”

“It happened after you ascended,” Lan Xichen explained, only to wince as he realised this might not sound good. “There was something before as well, but we became lovers after you ascended. It would have happened even if you hadn’t left, I think. That just… precipitated things.”

Lan Xichen remembered Nie Huaisang so cheerful in public, so happy for his brother and involved in those early efforts to get him followers, who once broke into tears in his arms when they were alone because he just missed Nie Mingjue so much. Lan Xichen had offered him all the comfort he could give, and Nie Huaisang had seized his chance to change things between them… not that Lan Xichen had put up much resistance anyway.

“I had offered to take him to the Middle court,” Nie Mingjue said in a low, threatening voice. “The instant I ascended, I came back for him, and he refused. Was it because…”

Lan Xichen quickly shook his head. "No!" he exclaimed, and instantly Nie Mingjue relaxed. “I wouldn't have asked him to stay for my sake. I offered as well,” he said, his chest constricting at the memory. He’d first seen his own brother of course, but his second trip back to the mortal world had been for his lover. “He also refused. He said he wanted to take care of your father, especially since things had started going bad.”

That moment haunted Lan Xichen, ever since their encounter with the Magpie King. It had been their last time together, and he could see himself, in his newly ascended glory, lying in bed with Nie Huaisang’s head on his shoulder, warm and comfortable and nearly happy, save for Nie Huaisang rejecting his offer. He hadn’t known then how bad things had become for his lover, hadn’t known about the rumours, about the true state of old master Nie’s mental health. He just knew that Nie Huaisang had laughed and said he wasn’t ready yet to give up on mortal life, that he needed to be a dutiful son, that he’d miss his mother too much, and his little pet birds as well.

“I should have insisted,” Lan Xichen sighed, staring at the cup of wine he dared not drink. “If I had insisted, perhaps I could have saved him and he wouldn’t have become…”

He trailed off, thinking of the Magpie King’s disgust over their accidental betrayal, of him demanding their deaths, rejecting the idea of reconciliation. To think his A-Sang, mischievous but kind heart, could have become such a person…

“I should have insisted as well,” Nie Mingjue said. “But that kid was stubborn as a mule, and I’ve always spoiled him.”

He served himself more wine, which he drank too quickly.

"He was begging when I killed him, you know," Nie Mingjue whispered, sounding haunted. "At the time I couldn't even hear what he was saying, couldn't recognise who he was, just a stranger who'd come into my house and killed my family. But now I realise, now I can remember what I didn't hear back then, and he was begging me for mercy.” He drank some more. “Thought I was angry at him for killing father, for not saving everyone. He thought I hated him, and then I murdered him.”

Lan Xichen shivered. He hadn’t been there that day, but he remembered the memory the Magpie King had shown them. He wished he hadn't been made to see that. Nie Huaisang, desperate and broken… that wasn't how Lan Xichen would have preferred to remember him.

“I can’t touch Baxia anymore,” Nie Mingjue confessed. “I’m so out of balance, I think she’d turn on me if I so much as looked at her.”

Unsure what to answer, Lan Xichen said nothing. He thought that Baxia, having once beheaded Nie Huaisang without hesitation, would have no right to judge Nie Mingjue now… but that wasn’t how sabre worked. At that time, Nie Mingjue had been absolutely convinced to be in the right, and that was all that mattered to Baxia. Now he was full of doubt, and the sabre would have hated to be yielded with uncertainty.s

Lan Xichen sighed, and drank his cup of wine after all.

He had little dignity left to preserve anyway.

Once things had settled in the Heavenly Court, and while his palace was being cleansed from the more obvious traces of Jin Guangyao’s prolonged stay, Lan Xichen suggested that Nie Mingjue and him take a break to visit the mortal world.

Or rather, to visit a certain undead part of it. Nie Mingjue initially showed some reluctance at the idea of going among ghosts and demons when he still couldn’t touch his sabre, but eventually agreed to go to the Burial Mounds to meet with Wei Wuxian.

They were well received there, even more so than Lan Xichen on his first visit. They were offered tea, and welcomed into the Demon Slaughtering Cave which appeared to have been hastily cleaned up for them. It wasn’t as comfortable a place as their palaces in the Heavenly Court, there were papers everywhere, broken trinkets and half abandoned experimentation hidden under whatever old robes had been around, but Lan Xichen found it less distasteful than he would have expected only some weeks earlier. There was a certain homeliness to this mess of a place, or perhaps it was just because Lan Wangji looked so happy there with his husband.

The tea was served on an uneven table, in mismatched cups, and the four of them sat together to share pretty little cakes that Lan Xichen had brought, his brother's favourites.

“I’m not sure I’ll have the answers you seek,” Wei Wuxian warned them before they could even say anything. “We’re not… I’m not on bad terms with the Magpie King, but I don’t know if I’m on good ones either. And he’s just never been the sort to talk about himself. For most of our acquaintance I wasn’t even sure who he was. Doesn’t help he changed faces every so often.”

Lan Xichen nodded, throwing a glance at an ashen looking Nie Mingjue. He hadn't wanted to come here, and looked as if he thought it had been the wrong decision.

“We understand this,” Lan Xichen told his brother-in-law. “It’s just that… you and Wangji are the only people who can tell us anything at all.”

“I’ll try my best,” Wei Wuxian promised. “And I can speculate a bit about some things, too. So… where do you want me to start?”

“How did you meet him?” Nie Mingjue asked.

Wei Wuxian grimaced and fell silent for a moment. Lan Wangji took his hand and squeezed it gently in encouragement, prompting his husband to smile weakly at him before returning his attention to the other two.

“You probably won’t like that,” he said in a more serious tone than Lan Xichen had expected from him. “But I first met him when he tried to convince me to betray king Jiang Wanyin. We were allied to the Jin, the king’s sister married to their prince, and the Magpie King thought I could help him ruin both kingdoms at once. I had no idea back then why he was so determined to throw the Jin dynasty into chaos. But anyway, I refused, insulted him copiously for ever thinking I’d turn on my shidi, and then I ran to try and warn the Jin that there was trouble brewing.”

He paused and grimaced again, leaning against Lan Wangji who wrapped one arm around his shoulder, pulling him closer.

“Didn’t go so well,” he muttered. “Didn’t go well at all. I died, a bunch of Jin died, the Jiang dynasty ended, all that. I stuck around though. Didn’t much like the Jin, but their little prince was my late shijie’s son, and I figured I should protect him in her memory. So of course, when I met the Magpie King again and he wanted to get rid of that kid, we had a bit of a fight… he sucks at combat, but the way,” Wei Wuxian claimed, looking at Nie Mingjue. “I wouldn’t have expected the connection to you.”

“He never cared for that,” Nie Mingjue confirmed, just a touch of his old exasperation piercing through. “So you fought him and won?”

Wei Wuxian chuckled. “Fought him and lost, actually. I was just a small ghost, and he was a Devastation, even if he wasn’t too great at it. He tried again to make me turn against the Jin, but I refused again. I think I must have said something about family coming first, and that might have impressed him. From what I’ve heard since, he’s got a soft spot for that.”

Nie Mingjue paled at what he had to take as an attack, but Wei Wuxian quickly reassured him.

“I don’t think he’s nearly as mad at you as he looked that time,” he said. “He really does have a soft spot for those who protect their families, and he’ll be merciless to those who betray them.”

“Like we did,” Nie Mingjue said.

Wei Wuxian clicked his tongue in annoyance and shoved a cake in his mouth.

“If he were really mad, Sangcan wouldn’t have been like that,” he claimed, making himself more comfortable in Lan Wangji’s embrace. “And that’s the true heart of him, I think. The Magpie King is the persona he uses to be scary and impressive, but I’ve seen him as Sangcan far more often, and he’s not so bad like that.”

"I thought Sangcan was just a clone he'd created," Lan Xichen said.

"And one of many no doubts, but his favourite," Wei Wuxian claimed. "It's the form I've most often met him as, over the years, and the one with the most personality. He only brings out the Magpie King if it's necessary, and he brings out Sangcan when he wants to be recognised by those he knows. Even gave him part of his name, eh?"

"I used to call him Sangcan when he was a child," Nie Mingjue confessed. "He hated it, so I'd stopped doing it by the time Jin Guangyao joined our household."

Lan Xichen's breath stuck in his throat. He remembered something about that. Nie Huaisang had told him, once, and he'd been so annoyed about that old nickname. Lan Xichen had tried to comfort him with poetry, Nie Huaisang had blushed and… and he'd wanted to kiss Nie Huaisang so badly even though that wouldn't happen for another few years.

"So Lianfang-Zun wouldn't have known to seal away that name," Wei Wuxian mused. “And so Sangcan was still able to use it. I guess right from the start, he must have been looking for ways to get around that curse and make someone guess who he was. Lan Zhan, didn’t he even approach you directly when you first met?”

Lan Wangji nodded, and glanced at his brother, looking rather sorry.

“He asked if I knew him. He was disappointed when I didn’t, and again when I introduced myself.”

Something icy spread through Lan Xichen’s heart.

His brother and him looked similar, enough so to have been mistaken for twins on occasions. Nie Huaisang could easily have spotted Lan Wangji during one of his missions in the mortal world and been given false hope for a moment, only to realise that he’d made a mistake. Nie Huaisang and Lan Wangji had never met as mortals, but Lan Xichen had spoken a lot about his brother to the boy he loved.

He wondered what it must have felt like for Nie Huaisang, seeing a man who looked so much like his lost lover fall in love with someone else. Lan Xichen’s marriage wasn’t much talked about among mortals where tolerance for these things came and went like waves on a beach, but among gods and ghosts it was a well known fact, one that Nie Huaisang couldn’t have ignored. To know this, to see something similar happen with Lan Wangji…

He sipped on his tea to give himself a moment and get his emotion under control.

“Does this all mean, then, that Sangcan is the real him?” Lan Xichen asked, more hopeful than he ought to have been.

But Sangcan had been… nice. A little awkward, a little clumsy, a little silly, but nice. Sangcan was a coward but he hadn’t hesitated to follow Lan Xichen into the Unclean Realm, and he had jumped in front of him when Jin Guangyao would have stabbed him. If Sangcan was the real Nie Huaisang...

“I think Sangcan is just one part of him,” Wei Wuxian corrected, “and the Magpie King is another part of him, and maybe there’s other personas I just haven’t had a chance to meet. If you put all of them together, that’s probably the real Nie Huaisang.”

Lan Xichen couldn’t help slumping down a little.

“The anger is real,” Lan Wangji said. “The kindness is real too. When Jin Guangyao would have stabbed you, Nie Huaisang protected you both times, in both his shapes.”

Lan Xichen nodded, unconvinced, but Nie Mingjue scoffed.

“Jin Guangyao attacked because Huaisang pushed him to it. I’m not sure he gets points for changing his mind about seeing us dead.”

“He showed you who Jin Guangyao was,” Lan Wangji countered with surprising vehemence. “Without this proof of character, you might have missed him.”

As unpleasant as it was, Lan Xichen couldn’t deny it. Until Jin Guangyao’s first attempt to stab him, he had wanted to believe that his late husband had truly just made an honest mistake which got out of hand. He might even have been foolish enough to want to give him another chance if he hadn't died, especially after Nie Huaisang made it clear he had no wish for reconciliation.

They had spent centuries together. Lan Xichen had thought they were in love. He’d told himself they were in love. He’d done his best to respect his husband’s boundaries, to never ask for more intimacy than Jin Guangyao was willing to give, to content himself with the companionship they shared even when he’d felt at times as if they were friends rather than husbands. Lan Xichen had done his best to be good, but he still understood why the other man would have jumped at the chance of getting rid of him, after being forced to pretend for so long.

“Nie Huaisang’s method was wrong,” Lan Wangji said. “The goal was commendable.”

“Wangji, it sounds like you actually like him,” Nie Mingjue remarked, sounding almost envious. Lan Wangji and him were on somewhat cordial terms, but they'd never managed to become particularly close, even though Nie Mingjue would have liked to.

“He helped me before,” Lan Wangji soberly replied, looking at Wei Wuxian, refusing to elaborate.

“Yeah, he’s a sentimental one, when he’s not playing up the Magie King,” Wei Wuxian agreed, nuzzling shamelessly against his husband. “He even came to our wedding, as Sangcan. He’s a sap, really.

“He was different that time,” Lan Wangji pointed out. “His manners were serious.He seemed more sad. He must not like weddings, but he came for us. He came as his entire self.”

This caused a new pang of pain to Lan Xichen. He’d been so shocked at first to learn that his brother had gone and married a ghost king, and then everything else had happened, the Magpie King, the trial in the Heavenly Court, but now that he could think about it, he realised he had missed his brother’s wedding.

Not just missed it: he hadn’t been invited to it, Lan Wangji apparently believing that Lan Xichen would be uncomfortable with such an odd union. And he had been at first, but he’d come around quickly. He would have come around then too, if only Lan Wangji had told him.

Instead, in those past centuries, Lan Wangji had never once mentioned Wei Wuxian, or else only in such a roundabout way that Lan Xichen had never realised his brother had fallen for someone.

“It must have been a pleasant wedding,” Lan Xichen said, careful to keep his voice even.

Wei Wuxian burst out laughing. “Not really? I was under shock after actually surviving the trials of Tonglu Mountain, and Lan Zhan got all sappy over seeing me again, so we decided to make it a thing before anyone could say anything. It was just the two of us and the Wen siblings, but of course the Magpie King always knows everything and he crashed our wedding as Sangcan. He did bring some wine and good food though, so I guess it’s fine.”

“Nie Huaisang told me where to find Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said, which made his husband gasp.

“You never said! That explains how you found me so quickly then. Lan Zhan, shame on you for keeping secrets from your lawful husband and consorting with my enemies! Or my friends? Honestly, I don’t really know what Sangcan and I are, ahah.”

After this Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen lingered a little longer in the Burial Mounds, but not too long either. There was something about Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian's joy that was painful to witness, when the two of them were only starting to process the loss they had suffered. They were both invited to visit again whenever they pleased. Lan Xichen intended to take that offer, and knew Nie Mingjue probably wouldn't.

Whatever his feelings toward ghost kings, Nie Mingjue still asked Wei Wuxian to tell Nie Huaisang that his brother missed him, should he meet him again. Wei Wuxian promised to do his best.

"But you know,” he said, “with Jin Guangyao dead, the fate exchange spell must have lifted, and his luck probably returned. So he'll meet you for sure if that's what he wants, and then you can tell him yourself."

It was meant as a comfort, surely.

All Lan Xichen heard was that they would never see Nie Huaisang again if he didn't want to be found.

Weeks passed, turning into months, into years. Lan Xichen built a new normalcy into his life. He missed Jin Guangyao, at first, if only out of habit. For centuries, they had rarely been apart for more than a few days at a time after all. But as time passed, it became easier to be on his own.

He kept himself busy answering as many prayers as he could, only avoiding San-Zun temples. Those were quickly falling in disrepair anyway. Even without formal announcement, mortals could always tell when a god had fallen, and they were usually quick to turn their prayers elsewhere.

When he wasn’t working, Lan Xichen often spent time with Nie Mingjue. It had been awkward at first, the spectres of Jin Guangyao and Nie Huaisang lingering between them, pulling them apart. But having lost so much, neither of them was willing to lose also their last friend, and they managed to find a new balance. Lan Xichen also made sure to frequently visit his brother in the Burial Mounds, and to give him some mission or other to justify his prolonged stay in the mortal world. Everyone knew why Lan Wangji was absent from the Heavenly Court, but Lan Xichen preferred to keep up appearances.

Then, when he could, Lan Xichen wandered alone in the mortal world.

It was something he already used to do before, sometimes dragging Jin Guangyao with him as he looked for something he couldn’t quite name. The only real difference now was that he no longer had to pretend he wasn’t looking for the boy he had loved in his youth.

Lan Xichen knew that Nie Mingjue was doing the same, had always done the same. He knew also that recently they’d both caught glimpses of a silhouette here and there, of a face, that always disappeared too fast into crowds. On good days, Lan Xichen thought that Nie Huaisang was waiting for the right moment to approach them. On bad days, he suspected the Magpie King was just keeping an eye on them, waiting to strike perhaps, his revenge not over yet.

No matter which it was, Lan Xichen continued looking for him, knowing he would be glad to see him again, however changed Nie Huaisang might be.

There had been enough prayers coming from that city, and all of them urgent enough, that Lan Xichen had come in person to check the ghost terrorising that area.

The ghost in question, which seemed to be of Wrath level, had been abducting newborns for years at that point, but recently started doing so at such a speed that the whole city lived in terror. Cultivators of all levels had tried to solve the problem, only to end up dead. A small local martial god had also attempted to check the matter, but he had barely escaped with his life and had come to ask Lan Xichen for his help.

Lan Xichen, who had only stayed out of this because it would have seemed rude to take action on that other god's territory, agreed to lend a hand.

The city in question wasn't very big, and it wasn't very rich either. Since the ghost's attacks had become more frequent, every new or expecting mother who could had left the city to spend time with relatives, and some older children had been sent away as well, in case the ghost decided to broaden its tastes. Walking the streets, Lan Xichen noticed an air of sadness and despair all around, which only further motivated him to solve the issue.

Yet just as he was starting to investigate the matter, a rumour spread through the city. The ghost had already been eliminated, and the latest child it had stolen had been found alive. Nobody had borne witness to that heroic act, but the child and the remains of the ghost had been found before the city's Zewu-jun temple, and many prayers had been done to that god, people said, so it wasn't hard to guess what had happened.

Lan Xichen, who knew very well that he hadn't done anything yet, was stunned to hear this.

He finushed his investigation while the city exploded in celebration. A quick check confirmed that the slain ghost appeared to have been powerful enough to have terrorized the city, and it bore marks of having used the energies of very young children to sustain itself. The danger had passed, but Lan Xichen couldn't figure out how.

A little suspicious of this situation, he decided to linger a while in that city. Taking on a mortal shape, he wandered among the celebrations, enjoying food here and there while staying on the lookout for whoever had brought peace back to these people.

Because he was so attentive, he spotted a man sitting at a table in front of an inn with a bowl of soup to eat, and froze on the spot. Lan Xichen hesitated, just a moment. But the coincidence was really too great to ignore, so he walked to that table and sat on a free chair.

"It was you, wasn't it?" He asked, startling the middle aged man across from him. "The Wrath, you took care of it?"

Sangcan dropped his spoon and stared at Lan Xichen with wide, fearful eyes.

"Zewu-jun!" Sangcan explained, before pressing a hand to his mouth, eyes darting around. "So you came here for this? Ah, my lord, I'm sorry, I'm really sorry. There was no intention to steal your kill, my lord! But, well… that Wrath owed the Magpie King a debt, and it was trying to get out of repaying it, right ? So of course…"

He gestured pathetically toward the celebrations. Sangcan really just looked like a pitiful man, terrified in front of someone more powerful than him, just as he had back then. It made Lan Xichen doubt, but still he had to ask.

"Are you just Sangcan today, or are you fully yourself?"

Sangcan frowned at the question, then glanced around. Seeing that nobody was paying them any mind, he sat straighter and passed his hand in front of his face. His features changed, though his clothes stayed the same simple ones. It was the same face he'd worn as the Magpie King that time in the Unclean Realm, though his expression retained a softness that was more like Sangcan's.

"I guess Wei Wuxian babbled too much, as usual," Nie Huaisang sighed, nearly pouting. "So, what does Zewu-jun want from the Magpie King? Apologies, perhaps?" he asked, his tone making it clear those were unlikely to be offered.

Lan Xichen motioned a waiter for a pot of tea before turning his attention back to the other man.

"I take it you haven't seen Wei Wuxian since that time?"

"No. I'm waiting for the honeymoon to be over," Nie Huaisang said, definitely pouting this time. "Wangji and him are just unbearable, aren't they? It makes me regret getting involved, the world doesn't need such disgusting displays of affection."

"They can be a bit much," Lan Xichen admitted with a chuckle. "But I understand they've waited a long time for this."

"You can say that again," Nie Huaisang muttered, producing a fan to hide behind. "Come now. You aren't here to talk about your brother's love life. Whatever you have to say, say it already."

The waiter returned, serving tea for both of them, giving Lan Xichen a chance to gather his thoughts. He hadn't really considered what to say when approaching Nie Huaisang. Having spotted him, he had just found it impossible to stay away.

He took a sip of tea. It was nothing like the exquisite brews he was served in the Heavenly Court, but there was something refreshing and pleasant in how plain it was. Simple wasn't a bad quality, Lan Xichen figured.

"I missed you," he said, quite simply.

Nie Huaisang snickered, eyeing his own cup of tea with suspicion.

"Did you now? After I made your husband try to kill you, you somehow missed me?"

His voice wasn't as gentle as in Lan Xichen memories. Right then, it carried a viciousness that the A-Sang of old would have never shown. It had disturbed Lan Xichen when he'd first met the Magpie King in the Unclean Realm, but it no longer did. It was only to be expected that they had both changed, after such a long time, and Nie Huaisang certainly had a right to some bitterness.

"I missed you before," Lan Xichen explained, earning an unimpressed look from the other man. "I did, believe it or not. There were parts of you that Jin Guangyao couldn't erase. Parts he didn't know about, like the name Sangcan, or…"

Lan Xichen trailed off, heat colouring his cheeks at the thought of what else Jin Guangyao hadn't known about.

"I spent centuries looking for a lost friend by the name of A-Sang," he said with an embarrassed cough. "One I assumed would be a ghost. Mingjue-xiong too was missing you, although in his case…"

"Da-ge never misses me," Nie Huaisang scoffed, closing his fan with a sharp gesture. "Not then, not now. I killed his father back then, and now I've defiled his precious sabre by using it to kill dear Guangyao. Don't lie to me, Xi… Zewu-Jun. I know how da-ge must feel about me. I've heard he won't even use Baxia, now that she has been tainted."

"You're right, and you're wrong," Lan Xichen mildly protested, thinking of Nie Mingjue’s guilt, of him resenting the sabre that hadn't stopped him from doing the irreparable. "You should speak to him. You've been spying on him anyway, haven't you?"

Nie Huaisang shrugged, looking away at the ongoing celebrations with affected nonchalance.

"No more than I've always done before," he said, reopening his fan and moving it in a slow, elegant manner. "I had to keep an eye on things, to see if Jin Guangyao's spell might weaken with time." The fan stilled. "And also to make sure he wouldn't harm you or da-ge," Nie Huaisang confessed. "I knew what he was capable of, even to those he called his friends… and he was getting strong enough he might soon have no longer needed you two."

Lan Xichen thought of the number of gods, small and big, who had confessed to being part of Jin Guangyao’s network during the trial. And those were only the ones who had been careless enough to be caught. Not to mention Jin Guangyao's cult among mortals had been on the rise in the past century, with more and more officials praying to him for good fortune.

"Do you think he would have…" Lan Xichen started, only to realise how pointless the question would be. Jin Guangyao had shown he was more than ready to get rid of Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue at a moment's notice. "Ah. Then I owe you my thanks for protecting us, and Mingjue-xiong as well. I am sure he would love to thank you in person. He really does miss you, no matter what you think."

"He misses his little brother," Nie Huaisang corrected, fanning himself again. "I'm not sure I'm that person anymore. And I'm not sweet little A-Sang who flirted with you either. That person is dead."

"Then let us get to know you as you are now," Lan Xichen pleaded, aching to reach over the table and grab Nie Huaisang's hand. "We just want you in our lives, whoever you are."

"If this is about the red thread between us," Nie Huaisang started, squaring his shoulders, but Lan Xichen quickly shook his head.

It was good to know that they had been fated once, and heartbreaking to realise this had been stolen from them. But having spent centuries at the side of a man who barely tolerated him, all because fate dictated it, had dampened Lan Xichen's faith in the idea of soulmates. That was why he hadn't used the spell which showed read thread a single time since Jin Guangyao’s death, no matter how tempting it had been to see if he could find Nie Huaisang that way.

"I don't trust fate," Lan Xichen said. "It isn't meant to be trusted anyway. I just want to know the person you have become, and let you find out the same about me. If something happens again between us, I will be happy. If it doesn't… then I hope we can be friends. That would please me very much."

Nie Huaisang raised his fan, trying to hide a creeping blush.

"I see. I see, you're really just as sappy as your brother then!" Nie Huaisang whined. "How terrible, this is just… I don't like fate either. I hate it! But I… I've missed you, and I've missed da-ge. I've missed you both so much, sometimes it felt like it was killing me a second time that I might never be around the two of you again! But you… and da-ge, you really think he'd…"

"I can call him here right now," Lan Xichen offered. "He'll be here in an instant, and he'll tell you himself what he feels."

Nie Huaisang tensed at the offer, the hand holding his fan trembling badly with emotion. But in the end, after a long hesitation, he nodded shyly.

"I want to see him," he whispered. "I've… I've really missed him."

"Then I will get him to join us," Lan Xichen replied. "Let's find somewhere more private though. You know how Mingjue gets when he's emotional."

"He'll cry everywhere," Nie Huaisang laughed, as if his own eyes weren't shiny with nearly spilling tears. "I'll go inside to see if we can rent a private room, just give me a moment."

He dashed away to find the innkeeper, while Lan Xichen smiled so widely his cheeks hurt.

What was lost couldn't be retrieved, but hopefully they might build something new from the ashes of everything Jin Guangyao had destroyed.

#xisang #nie huaisang #lan xichen #nie mingjue #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes #marked man au

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