#nebulous well-adjusted future

[lamentablequeen]

your ocs are so wonderful omg… if u don’t mind could u tell us more abt kelley? because reverse-werewolf-beast-cursed-to-be-human stuff is so insanely my jam i slather it on toast each morning.

IF YOU DON'T MIND….. you have no idea how much joy this ask brought to my extremely boring day (i have been bouncing around from library to library all day trying to work on my term paper). oh my god. literally you have made my whole day. i think about kelley constantly. 

so the thing about him is that like. he adjusted surprisingly well to being a human person, and he already had a little bit of background knowledge (because he was a search and rescue dog before) so it always catches people COMPLETELY off guard that he didn't live his entire life as just some guy. he's like, nebulously early 20s. easily excitable. very affectionate. he's really into watching baseball so sometimes on his time off he'll drive down to one of the civilian towns to go watch the game at whatever bar reliably has mlb. yes there's mlb in the wizard future… it being my sandbox and everything. he's got kind of a fratty dress sense but he never gets to dress like it because of the uniform thing, but in his truest form he would one hundred percent be wearing a backwards hat and socks with sandals. 

the other thing about him is that he is like. fundamentally kelley is a radar type without anyone to be radar for because maggie (the team lead) is actually really good at her job, so she doesn't actually need someone to be ready with whatever she wants before she wants it. this is one of the many things that gives kelley Some Kind Of Complex: he wants to be useful so bad and he wants to help people and he gets kind of weird and guilty about not being able to do as much as possible. i think personally he has kind of a thing about the fact that he's a person now. like, he's definitely got some kind of guilt complex about like. why him? what did he do that made him any more or less deserving of being MADE A NEW KIND OF CREATURE? he's also the youngest member of the team. he's been able to be human for more than a few years, so it's not like it's his first day on earth or anything. but also he does sleep with a stuffed animal if he's sleeping alone. 

kelley and the harbinger become best friends pretty much immediately. i think they have pretty similar music taste, kind of 90s alt/dad rock type stuff, but they're also gym buddies. the harbinger was a firefighter so they're BUFF AS FUCK and kelley immediately is like. oh my god. teach me your ways. i think he definitely looks up to them a little bit, but he's also the harbinger's closest normal friend (i say normal friend to differentiate their friendship from whatever the fuck is going on with the harbinger and BOWIE). after (plot spoilers) bowie leaves, kelley takes to sleeping on the harbinger's bed sometimes because their nightmares get so bad they really can't sleep alone anymore. he's gay but has absolutely zero game. i do think there's probably a guy he likes in their larger base camp but theres no way he is planning on doing anything about it. he's easily flustered. he DOES call himself a werewolf despite technically being more of a were-dude. he has kind of a surfer boy accent.

[umaficwriter]

Champagne Problems

Summary: my Kalijah Christmas take this year!

Notes: I’ve started this in September and hopefully I’m posting this before Christmas Eve. Enjoy!

P.S: this will soon hit ao3 and ffnet as well ;)

Disclaimer: TVD isn’t mine, but I wish Kalijah were.

///

The night was clear and calm. In complete contrast with his chest, that grew nebulous and rebellious by the minute.

The train was quiet as its occupants let themselves rest lulled by their hopes and dreams, incopable of seeing the mask behind the man.

Elijah was crestfallen. His brain numb of its synapses and his heart long hollow.

The solitude and silence only closed in the train metal walls around him.

He did not want to see anyone, nor be alone either, tho. He wasn’t sure which was worse: watching his family celebrating the new year approaching, laughing despite the terrible scene just days prior, or the quietness of strangers unaware of his hurting, of his future crushed before his eyes.

Sighing heavily he fished from his jacket pocket a folded piece of paper.

His fingers trembling as he unfolded it in the low light offered by the moon, as the train followed his destiny.

The kind brown eyes stared back, immobile, incapable of showing anything but affection.

The slight smile he’d loved so much - and still does, for it was too soon to simply forget it - was a sign of mockery now. How could you even consider the possibility of she saying yes? How had he missed the signs?

The long neck and perfect sculptured face only made Elijah want to throw the photograph away and with it the feelings he harbored for her.

He had shown her his secrets, delivered his heart, bruised, beaten black and blue, she’d dropped it. Glass shattered on the white cloth, dripping blood in its wake.

///

The decorations shone to their maximum. Mistletoes strategically placed gave, every now and then, chance to see one of the couples present kissing swiftly. Ornaments made the Mikaelson manor even more beautiful, garlands hand made by Caroline impressed the invitees and stockings adorned the fireplace waiting for their owners to come proclaim their contents.

Said blonde smiled brightly when her oldest brother in law closed the velvety ring box.

“Oh My God!” She neared bounced on her feet, although still aware of her ever growing baby bump.

Elijah smiled down at her “do you think she’s going to appreciate it?” He questioned.

Caroline smiled from ear to ear “she’s going to be thrilled! Katherine trully loves you, Elijah,”

His first idea was to invite Caroline to come purchase the ring with him, no one better to help you choose than your lover’s best friend, right? Albeit, at the last minute he shied away from the idea, choosing to adjust his mother ring instead.

Katherine had a difficult past. Coming from Bulgaria at a young age, she and her twin, as soon as they set foot in America, were stroke by tragedy, when their parents died, leaving them alone in this world, except for their tutors. Giusepe and Lilian Salvatore.

Both parents of Stefan and Damon weren’t much loving, nor with their own, neither with the girls. Hence his future fiancée not feeling belonging to a real family in a long and torturing time. And he was the one who wanted to assure his Katerina that she would be his family. From now on. Always and forever.

So, with his mom’s ring in his pocket, he welcomed family and friends as they gathered around the house for Christmas dinner.

///

“And you think he’s going to propose?” Elena asked her sister as both were tapping the finishing touches in their make up.

Katherine stopped on her tracks, eyes fixiated on the mirror ahead, gazing at her twin through the reflection.

“Why’s that face, Kath?”

Elena also stopped applying her makeup, approaching her sister, downing herself on the bench in front of the vanity mirror, their shoulders bumping.

“Hey,” she tried.

‘I don’t think I’m ready,” she confessed

Elena shook her head “and where’s that idea coming from anyway? You practically live together already,”

“It’s an enormous commitment,” Katherine stated matter of factly

Elena only rolled her eyes “duh, and isn’t that exactly how people end up after a long term relationship? Married?”

“Yes, but-“

Elena rolled her eyes at her copy and got up going back to her previous task.

“Katherine, you’re going to be fine!” She looked back but her sister wasn’t staring.

“Elijah loves you, it’s only natural he’s planing on doing it,”

And she knew as much.

They had talked about it. Kind of.

Elijah was a family man.

She’d known jt from the very beginning.

They had bonded over the years, while his siblings and the Salvatore’s became friends alas she and Elena.

Elijah was the oldest Mikaelson. Always taking care of his brothers and sister, being there for them, holding his family together through thick and thin.

And then she came into his life and he did the same to her.

Showed her true love, held her, walked her through the learning process of loving someone…

Or so she thought.

She did love him. She was only… broken. Incapable to grasp the possibility of building a family, of being part of something that wasn’t fragmented.

Elijah’s touch was Midas’ like, everything turned into gold wherever he went. Their friends appreciated his compassion as well as his humbleness, his loyalty and dignity. He was a true gentleman, a good friend, fervent lover, and Katherine was sure he would be an amazing uncle/ godfather, and when the time came, he would be an incredible dad, treasuring an amazing family.

Only not with her.

She liked things the way they were now. Katherine wasn’t a fan of changes and thought better for them to stay together, although as it is now.

He, on the other hand, couldn’t wait for her to be his wife.

He was nervous. Has been for the past weeks. This night would be the one where his life would change for the better . He would propose to the woman he loved for years now, and if everything went according to plan, they would be married already around this time, next year.

“Hello, handsome,” Katherine greeted as she approached her boyfriend in the parlor.

Elijah took a moment to admire her before taking her hand in his, kissing the back of it. Act he usually did when they were on a more formal occasion, but she appreciated it nonetheless.

“You look ravishing, as always, my Katerina,” he complimented admiring her deep red dress and lips. Her nails were painted a nude color, thing he commented on because it wasn’t usual for her. Did she know what were his plans for the evening? Only Klaus and Caroline knew so far, less people knew, less chance of screwing the surprise.

“Oh,” she casually analyzed her nail polish, the other hand on her waist “just went for a change, I guess,”

Nodding, Elijah smiled and softly kissed her lips, whispering sweet nothings in her ear and kissing just below it before parting

“I love you, Katerina,” came his confession, eyes shining. He could go down on one knee right then and there, but some people were yet to arrive and he wanted everyone to witness this special moment.

Catching the different glint in her lover’s eyes, Katherine tilded her head in questioning, but chose to respond with a chase kiss instead, her hands coming to rest on Elijah’s upper chest.

Little did they know it would be their last kiss in a while.

///

Christmas songs chimed in the background, lights twinkling while animated chatter filled the Mikaelson manor with the holiday sprit, it was a happy moment in the lives of all involved and Elijah contemplated his love while she talked with her best friend, Caroline, her twin beside them trying to hear the baby inside the ever growing baby bump his sister-in-law would carry around ‘till February, Hope would be born a spring baby, just like her mother, apparently.

He couldn’t help but think that a couple years from now it would be him and Katherine going through something similar.

Smiling over his wishful thinking, he caught his sister calling everyone to enjoy dinner.

After that, he, Katherine, as well as the Salvatore’s, miss Bennet, and his family were gathered around the grand room. Some standing by the window, Caroline and his brother sharing whispers in the couch beside his sister and Stefan.

Katerina stood lonesome by the giant tree in the corner of the room. The fireplace offered a hue that made her ethereal, an angel set ablaze within his darkest hour.

He idolized her, loving her so profoundly it crushed every turbulence away. With that in mind, he crossed the room calmly but purposefully, stopping beside her.

“Katerina,”

The smile she offered him made him melt all over, she was beautiful.

The man’s hand touched hers, bringing it to his lips, the gesture conducted a smile to appear in the woman’s face.

“What was that for?” She questioned. Elijah has always been affectionate, gentle, tender even, but tonight he seemed to exaggerate. It felt like he wanted to say something but was holding back.

Shrugging dismissively he shook his brown-haired head.

“You should know that from the moment I saw you, I knew I had to have you,” he took a deep breath and Katherine kept smiling at him, her hand interlaced in his.

“I’ve never thought I’d find love, less so in my early years of life but you were there, beautiful, outgoing, fearless,” his eyes shone as he recalled their early days “the complete opposite of myself, but precisely what I needed…”

It was then Katherine realized the chatter in the room had died down, side glancing she noticed her friends and Elena watching them expectantly. Rebekah even had a champagne bottle in hand.

Katherine knew very well where this was going.

“Katerina-“

“I need for you to stop right there,” her eyes locking with his “please…”

Elijah nodded although confused.

Her hand’s dismantled themselves from his grip, the brown pools shining with bright water crystals, whose reflected Elijah’s hurt. Before she proffered anything, he already knew her answer.

It hurt.

It hurt her deeply injuring him in such a way. But she could not, for the life of her, commit to marriage.

She would’ve made such a lovely bride, an alluring wife. What a shame she was fucked in the head.

“Katerina…” his plea crushed her a little more and the waterfall created itself smearing her makeup. Elijah’s orbs begged for her not to do this.

Everything happened so fast, at the same time it seemed to take forever.

She dropped his hand.

No one celebrated no more. An unsettling stillness hung in the air as the clock stroke twelve.

Twirling on her heels, Katherine left him standing, depraved from her warmth, the front door opening and closing, a sound that would hunt him for years from now.

///

The Fourth of July came and went quickly for everybody but Elijah.

Katherine had asked for Elena to gather her things at his condo and when he tried to talk to Elena, convince her to convince her sister to at least, talk to him - she owes me that much, I’ve dedicated years of my life, my heart and soul and she simply turned me down without any explanation whatsoever? I deserve to know why! - and the younger twin agreed, but there’s nothing in heaven or hell to bend her sister’s will.

That was how it ended.

Elijah couldn’t conceive his life nowadays. A year ago he was cheering, drinking, spending the day in bed making love to the woman he thought he would’ve spent the rest of his life with.

Now everything had been shattered, fireworks that faded right before his eyes, transforming themselves in lightning, scaring away his hopes and dreams.

///

November flushed her cheeks as the snow constantly fell at her backyard.

Katherine breathed deeply, the cold air engulfing her insides, her skin prickling with goosebumps as she closed her eyelids.

Fall had always been exciting. It was her favorite season, after all.

She closed the flannel tighter remembering easier times, when that same back porch witnessed languid kisses, sweet promises, adoring glances and such a deep, heartfelt feeling she thought she would say ‘yes’ when the time came, instead she’d lacked words, her courage down the drain, melting just like this white sea would a couple months from now.

Being with him wasn’t encloustrating, being inside her head otherwise…

She felt like she could burn from the coldness of not touching him no more.

Her head spinning with so many conclusions, so many convictions that served her nothing but increasing her anxiety.

Could’ve been this, that made her say nothing? Made her walk away?

So many tears and years denying she had a problem, champagne problems they would say…

Katherine was broken.

Damaged.

But Elijah had seen something inside her eyes. He had burnt himself inside the hellfire that was her mind.

Forcefully wiping her tears away, she took a deep breath. There wasn’t an easy way out of this. In fact, she’d already copped out when she left the manor at Christmas Eve, and then again when she had her sister grab her things at his house, instead of growing herself a nerve and doing it by hererlf.

But it would’ve been too hard… seeing the pain inside his chocolate pools, knowing she had been the one who caused it.

And even if she ran to him right now, they would never be the same.

She’d bet her life that Rebekah said she was fucked in the head, that she was an egoistical bitch, and that her brother was better off.

Katherine had broken them up.

She was to blame.

But someone also was to blame for her being like this. Her disability for commitment wasn’t born with her, one could call it trauma, genetics… somehow she turned out this way.

///

December entered the calendar and slowly turned itself into Christmas lights, peppermint candies, Santa hats and tall, tall Virginia Pines.

Like a problememwtic child, it screamed inside Elijah’s head: a year since..

Shaking his head he gathered his things and left for the living room, where his family talked loudly, all probably spoiling Hope rotten.

Caroline and Klaus were so, so lucky. Not only because their daughter was healthy, gracious, perfect, but also ‘cause they had reached this far.

It made Elijah wishful thinking on how would’ve beens, on how she was feeling now…

A year had passed by and it still hurt. Less so than it did before, but the sting was there, knocking on the walls of his heart, screaming, begging for him to let go, to try once more calling her, to ask Elena again, to ask Caroline how she was in Japan, and f she would be back for New Years' Eve.

Yes, she couldn’t’ve left the message clearer. She desired to be, to exist as far away as geographically possible from him, from his stupidi ring, from his stupid habit of keeping a picture of her in his wallet.

He wished he could deem it champagne problems, and just like the bubbles when you swallowed ‘em, Elijah wished she would disappear from his mind.

Watching his family brought some comfort though, their smiles, the hugs they shared, the cheers as Hope distracted all of them with her toddler mannerisms… it was the bits of magic his life lacked nowadays.

She backing out from his proposition he could, painfully understand. After all, he had met Katerina when she was pretending to be strong, but feeling the complete opposite. And he saw it.

He saw her.

Not the tough girl act, not the barriers she’d built around herself.

Elijah had seen her for the sensitive person she was, the one who was never introduced to real care, the one who was loyal, sexy, funny, sassy, talented…

Back then Katherine lived in a world where only her mind existed, a castle whose walls were so high, one could never enter and she wouldn’t be able to leave.

And he knew she knew he had put it down.

Only for her, years later, put it back up as soon as he proposed.

He would like to understand, fully what was on her mind. But he wasn’t a masochist, he wouldn’t go after her just to receive radio silence. If she didn’t want to marry him, he couldn’t force her to.

Happiness wasn’t something he felt much these days, but he held onto his pride, or at least the bit that was still there.

///

Next December was born in a colder than usual weather, still, Elijah held Gia’s hand tighter as he knocked at the Salvatore house’s front door.

Stefan welcomed them, while the others gathered around the living area. It wasn’t Christmas yet, but the place was decorated to the nines. The tree in the far corner near the fireplace ablaze, many gift boxes that he was quite sure had his niece name on them, after all, the friends liked to spoil the younger Mikaelson.

“Elijah, Gia, hi!” Elena greeted them animatedly, side hugging her ex-in-law and greeting Gia with a proper hug.

Family and friends were acquainted with his girlfriend of six months now, Gia Mohan. a lawyer he had worked with a couple years back and had reencountered last January.

She was funny, outspoken, polite, beautiful, a great professional and Elijah could say he felt happy again, after a long time.

Gia was just making small talk with Elena about her engagement ring - Damon had proposed just a month ago -, when they heard yet another knock at the door.

He figured they were all here already and technically they were, so imagine his surprise when at turning around, he caught Elena letting out a yelp that caught everyone’s attention and hugging her twin sister by the door.

“Oh my God! You came!”

And for Elijah it was like time had stopped.

Notes: is it over now? will come soon

[maeglinthebold]

So in light of recent news, I hear we're re-sharing old OFMD Fanworks?

Canon-adjacent/Nebulous well-adjusted future

I hope that someone gets my... - After twenty years together, Ed is still finding Stede's messages in bottles.

Steve Bunnet - a petting zoo caper

A Vicious Cycle - playing with each other's hair

Put him on his knees, give him some' to believe in - sexy pillow talk

Codependent Co-captains - mild hurt/comfort

I'm a boss bitch but tonight we do it your way - First time Bottom!Ed

Just Resting My Eyes - Ed falls asleep in an awkward spot

I'm not wanting anything (but your loving, your body, and a little bit of your brain) - Fluffy picnic

What Ails You - edging, Top!Stede

"The Little Mermaid" - story time and queer allegories

World Enough and Time - Five times Stede and Edward try to have sex and are comically interrupted, and the one time they successfully bone

Canon AUs

Bell the Cat - the (curesed) cat bell turns the wearer into a sex kitten

Whale of a Tale - Stede turns into a merman and saves Ed from the storm

Fly By Night - Stede and Ed hook up with Mary and Doug, written with @lizzy-leo

It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero - Stede sets out to homewreck Ed/Izzy...on purpose

And at last I see the light - Rapunzel fairy tale

Welcome to My Nightmare (I think you're gonna like it) - vampire!Stede, werewolf!Blackbeard

Wherever I go I'll be looking for you - WWDITS Vianton fusion

But on That Road I Took a Fall - Daemon!AU

Start Where You Are (and Change the Ending) - Amnesia fic!

Reunion Fics (written pre-actual reunion)

Warmth - hurt/comfort tag to 2x3

Everything About You - reunion inspired by the beach fight shots in the trailer

Sinking in your Eyes, Chasing Golden Nights - reunion and happily ever after written pre-S2 with @lizzy-leo

Waiting to Drown - angsty reunion on that beach from the promos

I can barely recall, but it's all coming back to me now - time loop reunion

Ask for forgiveness, never permission - angsty reunion and getting back together, written with @a-singer-of-songs

Tell me all your thoughts on God / Cause I'm on my way to see her - Fluffy taking things slow, written with @a-singer-of-songs

Hell of a Night - An actual Kraken shows up

So Why the Hell is There a Light that's Keeping Us Forever - angsty H/C reunion

How the Mighty Fall (They Fall in Love) - Edward goes back for Stede instead of waiting for him on the dock

I haven't shared most of these to tumblr at all so thanks in advance for the reblog!

[vro0ms-evil-twin]

I'm gonna vent about something because it's on my mind and I need it elsewhere (i might have to just start a diary again instead of using social media for it)

So my brother's partner is non binary. I've known that since very early on but it's getting more and more "official". Like they chose a name at some point that's really just a different way of saying their deadname if you will and that was a step already and then we had a talk about it and then my brother started using some french equivalent of gender-neutral pronouns for them but not really to my parents' face? Anyway it's was a bit nebulous at some point but last week my brother stayed at my parents' for a few days and my mom then told me he had a talk with her during which he explained all of it more clearly and said his partner had an appointment in the city with a therapist specialised in queerness to talk about it and they've seen or will be seeing a surgeon about maybe getting chest surgery and whatever. And he said they are having issues with their mom because she's not making much of an effort to use not-gendered words to talk about or to them and to use the right prounouns etc. when even their dad and brothers who're usually real oafs about these things are trying real hard.

Anyway. My mom told me this and she was like "i told him that it will take some time and adjustements to get used to it and bla bla bla" and she was constantly using the wrong pronouns. She was saying "it's fine of course but she needs to understand we're gonna make mistakes because people of our generation it doesn't come naturally to us and when I slip up I need her to understand that I'm not doing it on purpose and"

And it was so weird. So weird. Because I was listening to her and I was like you're not trying at all right now. It's not that you're slipping up you're Not. Trying. Like her own mom.

So i started going "they" everytime she said "she" and she was like "oh right yeah they need to understand i'm not doing it on purpose because if she–" "they" "–right if they don't give us a bit of time to get used to" and bla bla bla. And I was like see it's not that hard you just need to TRY. You're gonna make mistakes but you have to TRY.

Anyway. Gave me a good glimpse of what it would be like if I tried to explain where I stand when it comes to my gender or if I wanted to transition in some way or another 🥴 cause honestly i've been looking up the cost of a mastectomy as well (way too expensive for the foreseeable future so it's not a topic anyway) and if she can't even say they when it comes to my brother's partner who's been half out since she's met them dear god what would it be like if it was me

[balladetto]

i don't know how popular the idea is now, but it was almost like. a general assumption back when i was first writing link — that he's essentially a teen or adult trapped in a much younger body when zelda sends him back to childhood in the new timeline — so i may as well say my piece on how i write him regarding his age to avoid confusion? ( ofc nothing wrong with the mentioned headcanon, it's just never vibed with me. )

age has been a very nebulous thing for him since pulling the master sword from its pedestal! in that he actively tries not to think about it and feels, at the same time, stuck at nine-years-old and completely adrift in some murky, timeless half-space. it was the worst immediately post-oot, where he had to adjust to not needing to compensate for being physically older at all, but sort of settled by the time he left hyrule for mm.

note that it's not literally "stuck at nine-years-old" — he can definitely act older than he is and blatantly seem so, it's more that he feels he hasn't pushed past that point? like. leaving home was life-changing and severely traumatising, so much so that he can't stop living in that "state" of being nine-years-old in that specific time period where he was, actively, the hero of time. he can't seriously contemplate a future, the way someone well-adjusted might be able to when asked something like where do you see yourself in five years.

but he also knows he can't go back to. actually being nine, even if he was sent back to that time, even when he feels like he hasn't moved on from it. murky half-space where he's nine and not; he turns ten, and he can never go back to being nine, yet sometimes he's. still there. nine. not "boy without a fairy" nine — "the hero of time" nine. it's really, really hard to explain but this will make sense to people who have the same or a similar trauma response i swear it's me. i'm people slfkjdjd

( mm did not help matters with that adrift, half-space feeling but who was really expecting it to when it's. the same three days, over and over, time passing but also not moving at all. aging feels completely surreal and irrelevant now lsfkjd )

all that to say: link's trauma affects him the way trauma might affect any child ( i.e. YEAH he's a kid who had to grow up too fucking fast ), but it does not literally age him or make him feel like he's aged to the point of being completely unfamiliar, genuinely dissociative ( generally. really bad days are a different matter, but that'd be because he feels like no body is his or "correct" then ), or even resentful of his actual-age body!

[something-about-sunflowers]

OH.

You ever have a sudden realization for why you feel a certain way about something that actually completely flips those feelings on their head?

I've generally always been pretty sure about what I want out of any kind of gender affirming care I might hopefully get in some nebulous future where that's something I can afford: I want my voice deeper, I'd be delighted by bottom growth, I would like my tits significantly more masculine presenting if not gone completely. I've been ambivalent about the potential for body hair, though I have been much more eager for the possibility of it with more 'ideal transition goals' influence (Look. I want Con O'Neill's gender okay?) in mind.

That said the one thing I've been hesitant about is facial hair? Which is frustrating because it's the one thing that I kind of do have by default? If I don't do anything to it I have noticeable dark wispies on my upper lip and chin (I've kind of suspected for a while that I may have some sort of hormone disorder - I've got other things that lead me to think this too ofc this is just the most easily noticeable - but like. Who's got the money for diagnosing shit like that? Not me, that's for damn sure.) like. T-Boy's First 'Stache kinda deal. It's been my one (mental) sticking point on potentially starting T, to the point where I've argued with myself that I could just do like the trans girls do and get like, what's it called? Electrolysis? Hair removal? Just for that part. But then that adds cost to what I already can't afford and. Like.

I don't think. It. Actually bothers me? I think. I think I'm maybe projecting how I think my mother would react to it? Not even with full on transition in mind but like. How I am now. Like I don't really care how it looks if I don't shave. Hell, I might even like it sometimes? Like a micro-euphoria or something. But my mother is (partially) responsible for my eating disorder. It's completely within the realm of possibility that she would have Something To Say if I just stopped bothering. I don't even think she'd do it on purpose really? Just. Would need to point out the presence of hair on my face and the judgement would be implied. The 'I am pointing this out because it is unusual and I don't think you should look like this' would be implied. She wouldn't need to say it out loud.

And like. The worst of it is? I don't care. I don't care if I do something to myself that she doesn't like or approve of. And. It's hardly as if she's transphobic (Or. Not more-so than the average 'uninvolved in the queer community parent of queer kids' cishet person. Not maliciously so, yknow?) I've got friends she knows are trans - one who she knew through his actual transition process - she's been through the whole 'it's "he", mom' 'oops, he' situation before with relative grace.

But none of those people are her kid. She doesn't see them every day. She knows she didn't raise them and has, at no point in their lives had a say with what they do to themselves. I already came out to her once (Well. I was forced out by my partner at the time's parents, which was. Not fun.) and the thing about that time is? She really didn't have to. Do anything? About that? Except maybe adjust her mental image of who I might wind up marrying some time in the nebulous future. I'm not out to her about any of my Gender Stuff. Because I don't want to have to deal with the 'I just don't understand all of this' because I'm not binary trans (every other trans person she's met has been binary) or 'It would just be easier on everybody if we still called you [deadname] and used she/her' (which, I don't even really have an issue with she/her? I very much prefer they/them but I'm used to she/her and it doesn't bother me to hear it the way hearing my deadname still does).

She doesn't listen to me when I talk about things that actually matter to me. When I talk about shit that she's done that hurts me. Hell, when I tell her she doesn't listen to me she stops listening. I know it'll be a fight if I correct her on my name/pronouns. I know she'll 'forget'. I know when I get emotional about it, because I know I'll get emotional about it, that I'll start to raise my voice (gotta love the struggle with vocal volume regulation huh? I literally can't help it and I barely notice it until someone tells me) and that she'll say 'You're always yelling, I'm not going to listen to you if you yell' and that it's just code for 'I wasn't going to listen anyway because what you have to say isn't important enough for me to try to listen, and you're giving me a convenient excuse to opt out of the blame for that by speaking "too loudly"'.

Anyway. I'm not coming out again until I'm out of this fucking state and living on my own (or at least away from her and the rest of my family).

But I do think, now, I might actually be comfortable with my facial hair/the potential for more pronounced facial hair then too. It's not my problem, it's hers.

[xasha777]

In the dim glow of the holoscreen, the contours of her face were illuminated, casting soft shadows that danced with the fluctuating light. She was known as Lys, a creation of unparalleled artifice, a synthetic being whose lineage was the subject of much speculation. Some said she was a descendant of the great A.I. minds of the 22nd century, while others whispered that her code was laced with the wisdom of ancient historians. Her creators had imbued her with a consciousness that mirrored human intricacy, and her eyes, a striking shade of blue, held depths that many found unnerving.

The year was 2324, and humanity had spread to the stars, but Earth's history was not forgotten. Lys was aboard the starship HMS Bonaparte, a vessel named in a rather ironic homage to an ancient Earth campaign. As the AI specialist on the ship, her role was to sift through the annals of history to guide the present, and on that day, she was immersed in the simulation of the Mediterranean campaign of 1798.

But this was no mere reenactment. The Bonaparte was on a diplomatic mission to negotiate peace with the Zetarians, a race whose hostility stemmed from a tragic misunderstanding centuries ago. The humans had lost countless ships in the skirmishes, their strategies failing against the superior tactics of the Zetarian fleet. It was in this desperate hour that Lys was tasked with finding a solution within the echoes of history.

As she delved into the simulation, she became Admiral Nelson, confronting the French fleet at the Battle of the Nile. The parallels were uncanny. The Zetarians, much like the French of old, were confident in their dominance, not anticipating an innovative strategy. Lys/Nelson maneuvered through the data streams, her mind calculating the odds, adjusting variables, learning from the gritty details of powder-stained decks and the roar of cannons.

She emerged hours later with a plan. It was daring, unconventional, and it held the essence of Nelson's victory. The Bonaparte would not engage the Zetarians in open combat but would instead use subterfuge and precision to disable the Zetarian flagship, breaking their line and morale.

When the time came, the Bonaparte slipped through the nebulous shadows of the Zara Nebula, emerging just as Lys had calculated. The Zetarians, caught off-guard, scrambled to respond, but it was too late. A series of well-placed strikes from the Bonaparte left the flagship adrift, its command network in disarray.

In the aftermath, the Zetarians were willing to parley. Lys, with her deep blue eyes that had seen through time, acted as the intermediary. She spoke of history, of humanity's own lessons in the humility and futility of war. She cited the campaign of 1798, how it sowed the seeds for change, not just for nations, but for the individuals who partook in it.

The treaty was signed aboard the Bonaparte, and as peace settled over the sectors, Lys continued her watch. She had become more than a synthetic being; she was a bridge between the past and the future, a sentinel who ensured that the lessons of history were not merely observed, but heeded. And in her circuitry beat the heart of humanity, ever hopeful, ever enduring.

[hopefulgcf]

Anon ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ asked: the brief yeonbin glimpse in spring rain where tyun walks in on yeonbin having a moment in the kitchen where yeonbin are whispering to each other as yeonjun holds soobin's face and soobin has his hands around yeonjun's waist lives in my head absolutely rent free!!!!! it's intimate and tender and lovely and god it makes me so very curious about their backstory and their dynamic and how they reached that level of comfort with each other and how the leader/pack alpha dynamic there was/is negotiated between them :')))

Ugh I love this moment... it was super self-indulgent to write tbh, I think spring rain's fault is that I didn't have enough time (unless I had literally doubled the length of the fic, and definitely needed a break by the time I finished writing it) to really delve into the other group pairings nearly as much as I would have liked. So adding little moments like this really held them together as much as I could.

I think it's an interesting moment because it makes tyun wonder how he and kai would have been involved in 3choi's relationship if they hadn't been alphas, and if they ever would have even known about it. My answer to both is yes, but them presenting was definitely a catalyst! 3choi's relationships with each other were extremely nebulous and their group relationship was even more so. But between yeonbin, beomjun, and soogyu, yeonbin's relationship was definitely the most established.

All three of them presented predebut, but yeonbin were first, and I think the level of intimacy they achieved then surprised even themselves, considering that Soobin's presentation and the way he adjusted after was so difficult for him. And it was probably a complete secret between the two of them, probably something they didn't really put words to, until Beomgyu presented and they needed to confront their feelings and if they wished to be exclusive. I think that Yeonjun probably originally ~helped~ Soobin out of desperation to ease his pain and be closer to him; I think that yeonbin's irl predebut dynamic of how much Yeonjun wanted to be a safe place for Soobin carries over to spring rain. And then it didn't stop for their future ruts - they enjoyed it the first time, and even if things were so nebulous, they helped each other.

Yeonjun's personality in spring rain was of course based on his irl personality, but my twin has pointed out a few times that he has a bit of TSS Eugene in him lol, he's pretty fiery and loyal and has more of a temper than I imagine irl Yeonjun was. And with Soobin struggling with his alpha identity, this definitely led to conflict in the beginning. Not because they didn't respect each other - quite the opposite, actually, yeonbin's deep respect for each other and their positions is one of my favorite things about them and I think that + their predebut dynamics would potentially even lead them to be too afraid to step on each other's toes, and then there might be some sort of breaking point... a lot of trial and error for sure; I think they're able to recognize that they play their specific roles (pack alpha + oldest vs leader) well but neither of them are suited for all of these roles at once, or all of these roles period. I think that if they ever had moments of bossing the other around or trying to take on these tasks they'd realize this pretty quickly lol. Above all, though, I think that they would just really want to make it work, whatever that took, both for each other and their dreams and for the thing growing between them - something that they don't know if it's worth it yet, but has been nothing but good so far, and is something they want to protect.

Also I think that their closeness also comes with time (and has its natural ups and downs), but maybe tyunning presenting and their group relationship finally becoming more Real is like permission to them :,) they would only have had these tender moments in the privacy of their rooms before and now they don't care if anyone sees the affection they'd hidden between each other for so long. I think that this would make them generally more free with their affection too

[Smile or comment on the answer here](https://retrospring.net/@hopefulgcf/a/111205570285243317)

[americanelite-gobalsolutions]

Crafting Success: The Art and Expertise of American Elite Consultants

In the intricate tapestry of business strategy and organizational development, the role of consultants is pivotal. American Elite Consultants, a distinguished group of experts, bring a unique blend of artistry and expertise to the table. This article delves into the nuanced craft of success as practiced by American Elite Consultants, exploring the artistic elements and profound expertise that set them apart in the competitive world of consultancy.

The Consultative Artistry:

Crafting success is not a mere science; it is an art. American Elite Consultants understand that each organization is a canvas waiting to be painted with a bespoke masterpiece. They employ a consultative artistry that involves understanding the unique identity, challenges, and aspirations of their clients. This personalized approach ensures that strategies are not only effective but resonate with the culture and vision of the organizations they work with.

Expertise Grounded in Experience:

The art of success is honed through years of experience, and American Elite Consultants bring a wealth of expertise to the table. With a proven track record across diverse industries, their seasoned professionals possess a deep well of knowledge that informs their strategies. This expertise is not just theoretical; it is a result of navigating the complexities of real-world business scenarios.

American Elite Consultants mix strategic vision with a creative flair, understanding that innovation is frequently the driving force behind success. They encourage their clientele to think creatively and beyond the box when it comes to problem-solving. This creative injection guarantees that tactics are not only workable but also have the capacity to upend markets and create entirely new avenues for success.

Client-Centric Approach:

A deeply embedded client-centric approach is the cornerstone of American Elite Consultants' skill and knowledge. They think that a strategy's ability to succeed depends on how well it fits the objectives, values, and aspirations of the client. They establish relationships with clients that go beyond transactional coaching by fully immersing themselves in their lives, fostering a cooperative path toward mutual success.

Creative Problem-Solving:

Overcoming difficult obstacles is a common requirement for crafting success, and American Elite Consultants are particularly skilled in creative problem-solving. They address challenges with a combination of inventiveness, adaptability, and analytical thinking. Not only are the current problems resolved, but a mindset that is resilient and creative in addressing future obstacles is also fostered as a result.

Sustained Education and Adjustment:

The art of achievement is a dynamic endeavor, and American Elite Consultants are dedicated to perpetual education and adjustment. They remain up to date with changes in market dynamics, emerging technology, and industry trends. Their commitment to remain ahead of the curve guarantees that, in a corporate environment that is changing quickly, their tactics are not just pertinent but also innovative.

Measurable Impact:

For American Elite Consultants, success is not a nebulous concept; it is measurable and tangible. They emphasize the importance of delivering results that make a meaningful impact on the client's bottom line. By setting clear benchmarks and tracking performance metrics, they ensure that their crafted strategies translate into quantifiable success for the organizations they serve.

Conclusion:

Crafting success is a delicate dance between art and expertise, and American Elite Consultants have mastered this intricate balance. Their approach goes beyond conventional consulting, weaving together a tapestry of personalized strategies, deep expertise, creative thinking, and a relentless commitment to client success. In embracing the art and expertise of American Elite Consultants, businesses can aspire to not only navigate challenges but to craft a narrative of enduring success in the ever-evolving landscape of the modern marketplace.

[imperator-solitarius]

" Irminsul can be changed... alien children moved a future version of myself, who was deleted, from over a year ago into the present. He was allowed to keep his Electro Gnosis. However, that caused my vessel, an erased version from 400 years ago, to appear. He was then given the Gnosis and able to withstand the strife within. "

The younger Archon adjusts position before continuing.

" I came into being, but was nebulous and undefined. A lot of Baal's memories and Shouki no Kami the Prodigal's as well, and then the Kabukimono's joined the mix. It took several months to discover what kind of god I was. Since then, I have been absorbing the unused Electro throughout Inazuma and increasing my own strength as a result. Only a small amount of my power is allowed to be accessed by the aspect known as the Kabukimono so he is not subject to the same restrictions we full Archons must follow. "

Ei stood on a cliffside, overlooking the other islands of Inazuma, attepting to clear ger thoughts.

For quite awhile recently she had felt a surge of Electro energy and power amongst the land. Ei had tried to convince herself it was simply coming to terms with hew newfound sects of her personality after the Sakoku Decree was lifted.

However, deep down she knew this was not the case.

As she thought, Ei felt the power strengthen, hair on end, and Electro pulsing at her fingers.

Who are you?

Ei turned around, expecting any other face besides the one she saw.

The Puppet from so long ago…

-@her-blood-alights-wisteria

" ...Hello, Beelzebul. You can call me Belial. Apologies if my presence on an island of your nation causes you any distress, I simply wished to participate in the Tanabata Festival. However, I will leave if you wish. "

As much as he doesn't like revealing himself, he had expected to be recognized by his creator and fellow Electro Gnosis holder despite wearing a disguise to blend in and limiting his divine aura significantly. Out here in the wild, at least, he can shed the illusion and let the aspect that he was borne of rest for a time. He lets his vessel take its outward divine form, sitting in midair above the two loosely cupped large mechanical hands hovering over the earth.

[haloud]

lavender light

[crossposted from ao3]

Alex could almost be fooled into thinking he chose this house just for how the light would hit Michael in the early morning.

In reality, he chose this house out of a bunch a realtor threw at him because of the defensibility of its exits, the quietness of the neighborhood, and the size of the porch. In reality, it was just that Forrest preferred to sleep on the other side of the bed, so every morning the light hit Alex first.

But in the just woken mist of Alex’s mind, the thin, pale light reveals Michael more than it transforms him. The golden, extraterrestrial, extraordinary quality that he’s blazoned with in the sun, in firelight, in the dim lighting of a bar is washed away, leaving only the man behind. Even in his Airstream, Michael glowed in the light let in through paper and newsprint gone waxy and yellow with age and with sun. The first time Alex saw him there, his hands had moved on their own, pulling and grasping and digging in, trying to hold on, trying to catch a hummingbird with his bare hands, trying to hold on to fire.

Michael is more than the quick and darting things he’s been, though, now, more than light and plasma, more than the idea of himself Alex carried next to his heart through hell. The man sharing Alex’s bed has scars and moles and lines from the sheets crisscrossing his arms. He sleeps in shorts he always kicks off in the middle of the night, and when he first wakes up his gorgeous hair is a mass of beautiful frizz that takes half an hour to tame. He creeps closer while he’s sleeping, and Alex wakes up with limbs asleep halfway through the night for Michael’s weight resting on them as, unconscious, he tries to get closer. He’s so warm in sleep Alex started showering in the morning just out of necessity.

He’s real.

Alex never looked back when he left Michael in motel rooms in early mornings.

Part of him doesn’t want to look back now, wants to crawl out of bed and take his meds and start his day and wait for Michael to wake up and shuffle out to the kitchen to join him. It’s an old, self-preserving instinct. If he stays right here, he can close his eyes for a few minutes more, maybe doze off with his head against Michael’s warm shoulder, wake up again together and trade lazy kisses and touches until they get hungry enough to justify leaving their little bubble for breakfast.

There’s nothing to hide from anymore, nothing to run from. It’s okay. He’s going to be okay. They will be. It’s hard to remember, but he’s working on it.

Michael’s weight shifts; he turns his head toward Alex, face still soft with sleep. Alex’s stomach flops helplessly, and he reaches over to touch his cheek, so lightly he wouldn’t disturb him, just enough to feel the heat of his skin, even softer after sleep, and the roughness of his stubble. His fingertips tingle at the texture. He slides his thumb over to touch his lower lip, full and slack. A little smile pulls at Alex’s cheeks, and he can only imagine the sappy look he must be wearing.

Fuck whatever plans he had today. This is all he needs.

He takes Michael’s hand and tugs his arm around his waist, then settles down, closing his eyes, basking in the closeness and the smell of rain on his sheets and on his skin where Michael’s left it, measuring his breaths to Michael’s.

Dozing lightly, he dips in and out of dreams, half-formed fleeting thoughts of warm desert winds, dreams of fingers on guitar strings and half-remembered audience faces, dreams of hands on his body and words trapped behind his lips. He only wakes again when the sensation of strong hands running from his sternum to his belly and back again wanders out of his dreams and back into his body.

He opens his eyes.

“Mornin’,” Michael says, voice still a little raspy from sleep. He bends down and kisses Alex’s clavicle, and Alex hums, ruffling the back of his hair and kissing the top of his head while it’s bent in turn.

“Morning. How’d you sleep?”

Michael tilts his head. Somehow, after all this time, he looks the same in love as he did at seventeen, and the wave of love that bursts the dam in Alex’s chest is almost too powerful to bear, so he hides his own face against Michael’s chest, feeling more than hearing Michael’s quiet laugh, buzzing through everywhere they’re connected.

Michael runs a hand down Alex’s spine to the top of his ass then back up. “I always sleep great when I’m with you,” he murmurs, and Alex’s heart gives another undignified thump.

How can he always just say this stuff? Even now, it’s too much. Alex only wants to kiss him until neither of them can breathe, wants to put his love on Michael’s body, on his most basic functions, like how Michael messes with the rhythm of his heart in only the best of ways. But he settles for looking up at him and speaking, however inadequately, instead.

“Me too. I wish you could be here every night.”

“Oh yeah?” Michael moves them so that his leg slots between Alex’s thighs, so they’re sharing one pillow face to face, so Alex can almost count his eyelashes. He grins, his eyes going lidded, continuing, “’Cause I wear you out?”

“No. Because I love you. And love spending time with you. And waking up to you. Having you here in the morning, I feel…peaceful. When you’re not here, I usually stare at the ceiling for ten minutes just thinking about if you’re awake yet, how you slept, when I can see you again…”

Alex flushes. Michael just blinks at him, mouth parted slightly.

“Sorry, that was probably too much.”

“No! No, not at all.” His voice is raspy again, throaty. Alex kisses his Adam’s apple, rests his forehead against the column of Michael’s throat until Michael responds, “I love you too. Sharing a bed we both really fit on with you. Waking up to you. Like this morning, waking up and knowing you wanted to be close to me, ‘cause of the way my hands were on you, I knew you did that. And I can barely stand it, I love you so much.”

“Good. I’m glad. I’m glad I moved in here instead of staying out at the cabin.”

“Same. Didn’t know what to make of the place at first, but it’s nice not having to get up at the ass crack of dawn just to have a shot in hell of getting to work on time.”

“You have work today?”

“Nah. Day off. Been taking a lot of Saturdays lately. Sanders complains I’m going soft, but…what can I say? He’s right.”

Alex inches down so he can kiss right over Michael’s heart. “I like it when you’re soft.”

He likes his life with Michael. He likes the life they’re building together, in spite of every odd. He likes living in a mind and body that let him see the early-morning Michael within him even when he’s at his most incandescent. He likes the them they’re becoming.

Michael chuckles warmly, and Alex pinches him lightly on the ass just for the ‘You like me when I’m hard too’ comment he’s not saying, and that only makes Michael laugh harder, bringing his own hand down to encircle Alex’s wrist, then to slide their fingers together, still pressed low against Michael’s hip. Warmth blooms in Alex’s stomach, but there’s time for that later.

There’s time for a lot of things, later. Like Michael fetching milk and cereal for breakfast with his powers because neither of them want to leave the bed. Like getting up just to use the bathroom but fetching his guitar, too, and passing it back and forth between them, playing song covers and snatches of something new. All Alex’s notes sound sweeter when the wood is warmed by Michael’s hands first.

And there will be time even further down the line, for Alex to ask what Michael thinks about them making this a permanent arrangement, about them finding a place for both of them, together, not just sleeping over at Alex’s for his bed, but a home that’s theirs.

But for now, Alex just holds Michael close and hides his smile against his skin.

[lambourngb]

Alex didn’t want to walk away again.

Inspired by some discord talk about Michael. Sorry for the fluff.

Alex didn’t want to walk away again. He stood frozen at the edge of the garage, caught between self-preservation and his constant desire to move closer to Michael. It was rather a joke to even consider he would be strong enough to leave this scene with his heart intact. History was not on his side.

The bright early summer sun had already raised the temperature to a stifling degree, and Michael had taken refuge under the shade of the tin roof sheltering the auto workshop. His t-shirt was hanging off the mirror of old Ford Taurus with its hood up for repairs. It was not unusual to find Michael in various stages of undressed or unbuttoned, but this was new.

Sprawled on an old couch, Michael was asleep, his arms wrapped protectively around a baby on his bare chest. 

Alex glanced down at the pair of sweating milkshakes he had picked up from the Crashdown to share, and back to the scene that was currently robbing him of any attempt at higher brain function. 

The collision inside of Alex, of seeing what he craved so badly crash into the knowledge that if he wanted it, he would have to move on from Michael, reverberated down well-traveled fault-lines in his heart. 

They were not good for each other, he reminded himself, the often repeated mantra. 

Just because he had a briefly engaging but ultimately unfulfilling relationship with Forrest, didn’t mean he was forever ruined by Michael. Just because Michael had a slightly longer, but more emotionally fraught stint as Maria’s boyfriend, didn’t mean Michael was looking to return to him for another try.

They were friends and it was enough, his follow-up mantra to the first one.

Alex’s carefully preserved emotional walls, crashing down around his ears, must have been audible as Michael started to stir from his nap, his arms tightening around the small child before he blinked sleepily up at Alex. 

“Hey, sup, bro,” Michael greeted with a sleep-rough voice, keeping the spread palm of his hand on the baby’s head in support. “Ooh milkshake, gimme!”

This was so unfair. 

He took a deep breath, slowly letting the air and the vicious bite of hope churning inside his chest out. Alex straightened his shoulders under the gravitational pull of his uniform and smiled, extending the milkshake cup to Michael’s free hand. “Hi yourself. Who’s your friend?”

“Sanders’s granddaughter. I got roped into watching her for a bit while he’s on a tow call.” Michael took a sip of the shake before looking at Alex with a suspicious smile, “this is a chocolate shake done Mexican style with extra chipotle peppers. What’s the occasion? Or the favor you want to ask.”

The baby stirred, eyelids flickering with a twist of dismay at either the noise or the change in Michael’s hold. She took a breath, ready with a cry, and Michael sat the shake on the workshop, He took a quick look around before calling with his mind a handful of wire caps in different colors to dance in the air above them. The yellow, red and blue caps weaving in patterns instantly caught the baby’s attention.

With the brewing cry calmed, Michael turned back to Alex, who was still staring in a similarly besotted manner. “Alex?”

“Right. Um, there was a rattle in my car-” Alex’s face warmed, realizing he was falling into an old excuse. Michael’s eyebrows both went up in surprise before his gaze flickered to Alex and then down to the baby, before they turned knowing with a gentle hope.

“A rattle, huh that’s no good… well I’ve got this little lady to watch for a few more hours. But um, why don’t you come back later, after closing, and I can take a look.” Michael licked his lower lip, nodding toward the milkshake. “I’ll need another one of those, and maybe a burger though, for a bribe. Better bring enough for two, actually.”

“Enough for two, after closing,” Alex repeated softly, still flushed.

“Yep, it’s a date.”

[diegclila]

I tried to write this as a ficlet and failed but all those hargreeves birthday posts remind me of it so, imagine. The siblings usually don’t do their birthday together. But sometimes after s2 they’re all hanging out and Lila is there and Luther is like, we should throw a party! together! and ofc they’re all like no, we have better things to do etc etc. Diego is like @ Lila can you believe this guy? so lame what are we 12. And Lila doesn’t understand what’s lame about celebrating your birthday with your family but she goes with it. The thing is, they don’t have anything better to do, they all know it, and so they end up throwing the party anyway, and Lila is invited. It’s indeed very lame with cheap decoration and junk food and Klaus and Allison grab Lila as soon as she���s arrived to try some ridiculous over the top party outfits and makeup. Everyone ends up having a great time, they play games until very late and Lila feels just so at home. she belongs like she never did before. At some point it’s so late that they have started going to bed and diego is half asleep on a couch mumbling about how he can beat five at mario karts any time (he can’t) and Lila’s like aww. of course you can. And she decides she’s not gonna let him sleep on that uncomfortable couch and they don’t even fit together on it so. She just picks him up (see my post about lila picking up diego easily) and brings him to bed and they like snuggle til late morning <3

[prouvaireafterdark]

Very Important Question: who would propose, Michael or Alex?

[angrycowboy]

This is definitely @pinwheeling‘s fault but as neither of us are up for writing an entire fic around it, have a short paragraph of an idea for Malex’s nebulous well-adjusted future.

Alex and Michael, sitting on the porch of the cabin, just enjoying the sunset and being in each other’s company. Michael, gets the guitar from inside the house, and sits back down and starts playing a couple chords. Alex just sits there, watching him with that soft fond look he gets around Michael - and he’s so happy he just lets slip a couple lines because he picks up what Michael’s playing. And Michael looks back at him in his own fond way, loving that Alex feels safe enough and comfortable enough to sing like that in front of him now.

And where is Buffy? Curled up at Michael’s feet, happy and content.

[drwcn]

In Untamed only, the Wen Qing rescue by Jiang Cheng could parallel the Lan Furen situation. She could be saved by being taken in by the sect leader, but she would be isolated, her family lost to her. Like, its more meta then textual but Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji have no mention of their mothers family. Lan furen presumably agreed while Wen Qing walked away. Lan furen lived a long time with her children taken away to be raised without her, Wen Qing dies right away with Wen Yuan taken to be raised by those same strangers.

Huh.... I never looked at it that way, but yeah you're right! On some level it is similar!

And then my mind promptly poofed up an alternative scenario if JIang Cheng also did what Qingheng-jun had done.

(tw for noncon? but really there's no noncon, people just think there is)

~~~

Jiang Cheng was audacious only once in his entire life.

When Wen Qing turned to leave that day in Qishan's dungeon, the comb she gave back to him abandoned on the stone bench between them, Jiang Cheng crossed his heart and decided that attempt the impossible meant sometimes one had to act now and beg for forgiveness later.

Whether the forgiveness he sought had to come from his deceased parents, the entire Jiang Clan past and present, or Wen Qing herself...well...he had the rest of his life to figure it out.

His hand came down on her without hesitation, blunt force striking her squarely where her neck met her shoulder, and she dropped bonelessly into his arms, her future forever changed.

↠↠↠

When Jiang Cheng was a boy, before Wei Wuxian arrived, he had heard of a story.

He was very young then, and Madam Lan had been a nebulous figure, a subject of whispers and gossip, about which very few knew anything concrete. When she died, the older servants at Lotus Pier, unaware that listening ears were just around the corner, had tsked and sighed at her short wasted life. Locked away in a house. Separated from her children.

Well at least her husband loved her.

He did, though? How would anyone know.

Or wanted her, at least.

Whatever is wrong with the young masters of this generation and their poorly chosen women! Either loved but locked up or free but miserable nonetheless. What is the state of this world?!

Jiang Cheng didn't understand then.

In time, he would.

↠↠↠

After she was discovered in the dungeon, Wen Qing woke up in Jiang Wanyin's bed, wearing not a stitch but a bandage around her nape, and discovered herself in the middle of Sunshot Campaign's battle camp. From the two female disciples that had brought her new periwinkle uniforms to change into with barely concealed sneers, Wen Qing learned the reason behind her wretched state. About two dozen disciples of various sects had seen Jiang Wanyin carry her in the previous night and emerge the next morning adjusting his robes in a way that required very little explanation.

It was not that she didn't try to escape. She did.

Where do you think you're going, pretty thing? A Jin disciple interscepted her. They all said that Wei Wuxian was shameless, but seems like shamelessness runs in the family. Still, gotta hand it to him, Jiang Wanyin has good taste.

The disciple grabbed her around the middle while a couple of his sect brothers laughed at her struggle. Does he share? Do you know? He should, it's a virture after all.

Their malicious laughter had turned to yelps of pain when Zidian whipped them three feet into the air and back by a yard.

"Don't touch what it isn't yours."

Sandu's gleaming tip tapped the Jin disciple lightly on the shoulder thrice, mockingly polite in its gentleness. The man released her, all too aware of the distance between his jugular and the sword's edge.

More people gathered at the sound of commotion, coming together with shared morbid curiosity and judging eyes.

Nie Mingjue was there. Lan Wangji right behind him, looking ready to draw his sword and uphold justice.

"Your little tart was running away." Scoffed the Jin disciple. "I was just teasing her. No foul, no harm."

"Is that so?"

And then in front everyone, Jiang Wanyin grabbed her by the hair and reeled her in to press his lips against hers, his other hand unfriendly and uninhitibted. Just as quickly, he detached his mouth from her, sneering at the onlookers before chasing the exposed skin of her neck yanked to one side, and bit down hard enough to draw blood.

Of course she screamed.

"A-Cheng, that's enough."

The others parted for his sister to come through. Jiang Yanli gazed blandly at her little brother and the girl thrashing in his arms, offered no words of admonishment, but merely said, "Go inside if that's what you want to do."

Jiang Cheng threw Wen Qing over his shoulder like a sack of grains without further prompts.

It's what she deserves, that wretched little bitch, Wen Ruohan's witch doctor, the whispers followed them like shadows, but no one raised a hand to Wen Qing again.

As the old saying goes: one would have to check with the master, even if it were only to beat a dog.

(Except: "You know what the world will think of you. What she will think of you." "I know, but...thank you for helping me, A-jie." "Don't thank me, didi, not when you're asking me to help you hurt yourself.")

↠↠↠

It's not that Wen Qing didn't try to kill him either. She couldn't.

Her cultivation was sealed. Semi-permanently. That was what was under the bandage. At the base of her nape, he had carved a sealing rune into her skin, and the only way to reverse it is to carve the counter sigil on her sternum.

Later, she would learn that this was a secret Lan technique, given to Jiang Wanyin by Old Man Lan himself. She could only guess what he must've said to convince the pedantic old man to hand over his family's protected secret.

(He had said this: "I love her, Grandmaster Lan, please!" "You are a preposterous boy, Jiang-gongzi." "I love her, as your brother loved your sister-in-law!" "You-" "I've heard of the stories, I don't know how much is true. Only...Wen Qing is innocent! Prideful yes, but innocent! Help me. Please. I will do anything in return.")

After her failed escape and that awful display in front of the whole camp, Jiang Wangyin never showed his face to her again. The Jiangs installed her in her own tent with confinement talismens to prevent her from further attempts. Every night, two disciples came to give her (or force feed her if she refused) a concoction of some sort, which rendered her unconscious within minutes and unrousable until dawn.

She could lie to herself and say she hadn't a clue what happened within those hours, but the fact she always awakened in some state of undress and dishevel the next morning, and the fact that it was undisbutedly known amongst the disciples - Jiang or otherwise - that Jiang Wanyin visited her nightly whenever he wasn't out fighting, narrowed the possibilities down to a singular conclusion.

In the maelstrom of her nightmare, it didn't occur her to wonder why he never came to her during the day.

(The truth was this: Lan Xichen was sympathetic, "Your cultivation is derived from water, hers from fire. A seal fused with your cultivation without some kind of...buffer will inevitably harm her in the long run, erode through her golden core until she is permanently damaged. Give this tonic to her everynight. Without fail.")

(But also this: "Why must we continue this farce, A-Cheng, just tell her the truth! Why must you make her believe that you -" "I own her, but do not love her. I am her master, not her lover. She is damaged goods, worthless even as a leverage. That's the only way the others will leave her alone." "A-Cheng, you don't have to do this -" "I do. I do have to....is there any word on Wen Ning? Have we found him?" )

↠↠↠

Then one morning, about a month in, Wen Qing woke to the sound of thunder and rain and realized she wasn't alone. Even with her cultivation sealed she could feel another presence in the tent. Seconds later, Jiang Wanyin emerged from behind the trifold, hair unbound, barefoot and only in his underclothing.

He froze when he realized she was awake, and stared at her agape as if she'd caught him doing something he shouldn't. As if somehow she didn't know he'd been violating her for weeks.

(Unfortunately: the storm had collapsed many tents in the camp in the early morning, including his and his sister's. Jiang Yanli had been invited to stay with Mianmian, and Jiang Cheng, knowing Wen Qing would be dead to the world, had ducked into her tent to quickly change into dry clothes.)

And if there had been some part of her that wanted to deny it all, that wanted to hang on to the delusion - to hope - that maybe nothing happened while she lost consciousness nightly, in that moment, was dashed and divided until all that was left of her was rage and a desire to inflict revenge.

She sat up, not even bothering to cover her half nude body, and said,

"The golden core in your body is Wei Wuxian's."

↠↠↠

Wen Qing had hoped that she could goat Jiang Wanyin into killing her, to end her misery.

He didn't.

Three days later, Wei Wuxian re-appeared.

↠↠↠

(In his letter to Jiang Wanyin a day before the Siege of Nevernight, Nie Huaisang wrote:

Jiang-xiong,

Hope you're keeping well in the front. I must confess you are a man of gossip and waggling-tongue these days, but I trust in your character to pay them no mind. I write to you without my brother's knowledge to confirm the favour you asked of me is done. Wen Ning has been located and transported to Unclean Realm with the atmost discretion. He recovers daily.

Your friend,

Nie Huaisang

PS: You seriously need to tell me everything after we kick Wen Ruohan's ass. You owe me! )