#she was half asleep so she didn’t even realize she was killing it. piers was so proud of her

[yeehawbvby]

Nintendo products existing in Pokemon implies Pikmin exists in Pokemon which leads me to,,,,

The headcanon that Piers will periodically and randomly show Max a picture of Oatchi, because every time she sees Oatchi (if she’s not playing Pikmin 4/watching someone else play Pikmin 4) she recites That’s My Pikmin Dog

Except she almost always, without fail, flubs and mixes up the lines. So when she catches it she’ll just stop doing it and cover her face and cringe at herself while Piers just looks on super disappointed, maybe wincing too sometimes. Shaking his head even. Calling her names (fake Oatchi enjoyer, etc)

In the off chance she makes it through to the “that’s my Pikmin dog!” part, Piers rewards her by doing the backup vocals

[featherfur]

I would love a Fix-it Au where Nie Huaisang fails to kill Jin Guangyao (maybe he slips through his fingers, maybe he just slits Lan Wangji’s throat the second he has the chance and Su She never has a moment to go get Huaisang because he has to hold back Lan Xichen and Wei Wuxian so Huaisang can’t maneuver the playing field). So he goes back in time and just stabs Jin Guangyao and blames Xue Yang.

(More below the cut)

Huaisang’s not an idiot, he knows he’s not the smartest person in the room he’s just the best at adapting. Jin Guangyao can set up all the pieces but if something doesn’t go right he flounders, but Nie Huaisang has grown up as a Nie and no one in the Nie make sense or follow predictable patterns so he adapts easily. He had a back up plan, of course, if things went south but he wasn’t expecting things to go so south. So he approaches Wei Wuxian, grieving at Lotus Pier where Jiang Cheng brought him when he found him and Jin Ling frozen at the temple. Wei Wuxian hadn’t said a word since, clutching Bichen and Lan Wangji’s headband so tightly even Lan Qiren didn’t have the heart to pull it away.

Huaisang sits beside him, wondering how Jiang Cheng is handling his newly mute brother but he doesn’t worry too long, if things go right this time he won’t ever have to feel that. If things go wrong… well, he’ll be dead anyways so why not try?

He quietly passes him the spell he found in the Lan Forbidden Library (Jin Guangyao isn’t the only one who had Lan Xichen wrapped around his finger all these years, Huaisang was always his didi the moment they met even before he and Mingjue were sworn brothers) and says “let me fix this, please.”

Wei Wuxian doesn’t know why Huaisang thinks he needs to fix it, he doesn’t know that Huaisang is the reason the feared Yiling Patriarch is back instead of an actual demon, doesn’t know he sent the sword arm to Mo Village, doesn’t know he set up the meeting in Yi City, doesn’t know anything. But he takes the papers and stares at them and he knows and part of him, a fierce bold part of him filled with empathy and love and hope, wants to fight Huiasang on it. If this spell failed Huiasang would be torn apart, his soul reduced to nothingness. But he’s tired, he’s so very tired. It has been 16 years for everyone else but for him, he’s lost his family with the Wen’s, his sister, and the love of his life all within the span of six months. He doesn’t have the strength to argue, not when the only reason he eats is because Jiang Cheng comes over three times a day and feeds him, the only reason he sleeps is because the Head Disciple (Liu Xiolan, his sisters best friend and that hurts too) brings him to his room and waits for him to sleep, the only reason he moves is because Sizhui needs him to stay alive.

So he takes the papers and he writes the rest, focusing all his energy on something that will distract him. He writes and writes until he can wake up on his own again, until he shovels food in his mouth at a pace that actually has Jiang Cheng trying to stop him after a month of forcibly pushing chicken in his face. Because this could save Lan Zhan, his Lan Zhan.

He finishes it finally, three months later with Jiang Cheng passed out beside him at three am, Jin Ling and his posse only a few feet further all curled up like a bundle of kittens from the night hunt they’d just completed to get the blood of a ghoul for the spell. When he passes it to Huiasang he isn’t expecting the hesitation when he reads it over.

“You… do understand you can’t go back right?” Huiasang says quietly, “this needs a golden core on both sides and you won’t be able to go back far enough with your current core.”

Wuxian doesn’t even bother to think about how in the hell Huiansang knows he gave up his core, since Jin Guangyao’s disappearance he’s been different and Wei Wuxian has come to realize he’s smarter than he was ever given credit for.

“Your core isn’t much stronger,” Wei Wuxian snaps but there’s no fire as he nods tiredly. “I know, I can send you back to before I died though, if your past self is willing to give in and let you merge with him. If you can save all of this from happening, I’d do anything.”

Huiasang eyes him and tucks the papers away. He doesn’t say “you know this will create an alternate timeline and you will continue to live in world without him.” Wei Wuxian knows, and he’s tired but he won’t strip Sizhui of another father.

“I’ll take care of everything, Da-Ge will stab anyone who tries to stop me.” Huiasang says as jovially as he can even though he knows it comes out flat but Wei Wuxian gives him an appreciative smile.

“Good luck,” is all he says before he’s turning around and walking wordlessly towards the Head Disciple who waits patiently for him. Huiasang makes a note of her, wondering if he can find her in the past and wiggle her into the Jiang Sect, he never met her before and he isn’t sure where exactly to find her but if he can it’ll make it much easier to have someone hold Jiang Cheng back if he starts barking and biting. (Though, he remembers with a gentle feeling of fondness, Jiang Yanli had been good at that too so if he does this right she could help him get those two idiots to being brothers again)

It takes almost two weeks to prepare the spell but he doesn’t mind taking the time to get his affairs in order. The Nie Sect never truly loved him, not after Da-Ge’s death (they used to adore him, he thinks bitterly before tossing the useless emotion away). But he had the most trustworthy members by his side throughout the whole plan against Jin Guangyao, so he assigns his heir and orders them to say they found his body dead on a night hunt. He thinks Lan Xichen will be the only one who will grieve for him, there’s only a flicker of guilt for that after all Xichen led to his brother’s death because he was too kind to listen.

He does the spell and the world goes dark and he thinks it failed, until he opens his eyes and realizes he can see. Then he feels the other consciousness rouse beside him, confused at first then absolutely pissed. He almost laughs at the indignant emotions in his past self at the idea that a ghost would be so brazen as to attempt to posses him.

It doesn’t take long to convince his past self to merge with him, he wouldn’t be dying only becoming one with his future self. Really it would just be like growing up really fast since they are the same person. It does take longer to convince him that they are the same person, nearly half a day before he gives in.

The merge is, easy honestly. Huiasang faints in the middle of walking through the fields, and wakes up a day and a half later after living through all of his memories on fast forward to a pissed (worried) Da-Ge.

He doesn’t even speak at first, he just sobs, he sobs and sobs and sobs as he holds onto him, until Da-Ge gently soothes him and the awkward strokes become gentle caresses through his hair like Huiasang is five again.

“What the hell has gotten into you?” Da-Ge asks when Huiasang can breathe again and Huiasang cries softly again and burrows into his chest and Da-Ge doesn’t ask again. He just pets his head and cradles him close until Huiasang is nearly asleep again.

Xichen visits once and Huaisang has to force himself not to bare his teeth and scream, but 20 year old Huaisang wouldn’t do that. Xichen looks so young too, his touches on Mingjue’s shoulder are full of affection and Huiasang hates him, hates him so much that he wishes Xichen died at the temple instead of Lan Wangji. He did this, because he didn’t listen to Mingjue because he fell in love with someone even though he already loved Mingjue. How could he-

Then Xichen lays a hand on his head, and 28 years of affection from his Er-ge wells in him and he throws himself forward into his arms. He wants to hate him, but this is his Er-ge. Who held him through nightmares when he visited, who went through night hunts protecting him when Da-ge couldn’t, who snuck him treats and paintings and gave Huaisang his first painted fan, who loved it when Huaisang called him Ge-ge and called him didi and spoiled him almost as much as Da-ge did.

And Da-ge loves him, loves him only less then Huaisang himself. So Huaisang can’t hate him, even if he loathes his choices and won’t ever be able to fully trust his decisions again, he can’t hate him.

Xichen takes his crying better than Mingjue did and murmurs to him quietly until he does actually pass out. Nie Zhongui almost makes him cry too but Huaisang manages not to, instead he gives him the prettiest fan he can buy because that’s how 20 year old Huaisang would say “you’re my favorite” even if 36 year old Huaisang would have just said it.

It’s two weeks until the ambush at Qiongqi Path and that’s all Huisang needs. He convinces Mingjue to take him to the celebration (much easier now with his fainting spells, and the almost full day of sobbing that Huiasang won’t explain). Thankfully Xiao Xingchen hasn’t captured Xue Yang since his escape and it provides the perfect excuse.

He quietly asks Jin Zixuan if he could go and meet Wei Wuxian at the base of the Burial Mound with Jiang Cheng before Jin Zixun even has a chance to leave, Huaisang didn’t think it would be so easy but when he mentioned being worried because of Sect Leader Yao and Ouyang, staunch haters known for screaming for Wei Wuxian’s blood, they’d both agreed immediately and Huaisang has to trust them not to be morons because he has something else that needs to be taken care of. Su She would be too late with Jin Zixun failing to arrive in time to ambush and Nie Huisang could discredit him (and possibly have him executed) immediately by showing the hundred holes curse on him. But Jin Guangyao? That was going to be personal.

A few crudely written demonic cultivation talismans (curtesy of Wei Wuxian’s Sunshot rampage where he left them fucking everywhere) and a knife shaped like Xue Yang’s familiar sword, where all Huaisang needed. That and alone time with Jin Guangyao.

That was probably the easiest bit, convincing Jin Guangyao to walk with him so Huiasang could show him his new fans. He was eager to walk with him, and Huaisang wonders as he plunges the knife through his back and into his heart between the ribs if Jin Guangyao still held affection for him in the end or if he simply wanted another pawn to use to keep Lan Xichen close.

Huiasang wished he took pleasure in the betrayal on Jin Guangyao’s face, but really? He’s just tired. It’s been 16 years of this, 16 years of loss and pain over and over again and it’s finally over.

Well nearly.

He slices his own face too and slips the knife into a qiankun pouch where he knows no one will look, after all Nie Huaisang was no good at being a cultivator much less a killer, and shoves a few talismans into Jing Guangyao’s clothes to be found later (maybe they will be, maybe they won’t but that’s not what he’s worried about).

Then he screams, he howls, he cries for Da-ge as he runs toward the gates and he’s almost surprised at how fast he gets there (he shouldn’t be, he was Da-ge’s most precious thing in the world but it’s been 14 years without him and some things he’s forgotten like the feeling of safety that comes with his brother’s rampaging steps storming to protect him from anything and everything). He throws himself into his brother’s arms and sobs, swiping through the air at the dead Jin Guangyao.

“Da-ge! He’s dead! He’s dead! San-ge!” He wails as Mingjue presses him against his chest with all the force in the world, Baxia ready to destroy anyone. “I was just showing him my fans and I only turned around to look at a bird and- and- Da-ge he…”

He sobs and dramatically yanks at Da-ge’s robes like he’s beside himself with agony and grief, and maybe he is, not for Jin Guangyao but for everyone else who lost everything because of his need to get his father’s approval.

“What? Huaisang stop crying and just spit it out.” Da-he’s harsh in such a familiar way that the tears spill out more. He’s not angry, he’s worried and he wants to hunt down his sworn brother’s killer but he won’t leave his didi behind.

“He tried to protect me, San-ge! San-ge!” There was no point in tarnishing his reputation, he hadn’t done anything yet beyond be a disgusting snake who killed the Captain and freed Xue Yang but that would be so much harder to prove when Mingjue had let the bastard go. “But he got stabbed instead! Da-ge please.”

“Who was it? Did you recognize them?” Theres louder shouts behind them, Xichen’s voice is worried but still soft as he moves to comfort him as well.

Huaisang nods frantically, reaching out to tug on Xichen’s robes like he’s terrified.

“It was Xue Yang! He said he was going to kill me then Da-ge and the rest of the Nie for imprisoning him. But San-ge pushed me out of the way and- and- and he-“ Huaisang cut himself off with another wail and his brother’s hands are firm as they tilt his head up to look at the deep cut on his face. “I screamed and he ran after taking something from San-ge.”

Mingjue tries to step forward and Huaisang sobs louder.

“Da-ge no! Please! Don’t leave, what if he comes back? He killed everyone at the Chang clan!” He howls and he’s shoved into Xichen’s arms that fold around him immediately. Huaisang ignores the tears on Xichen’s face, the tears on his brothers because their grief is nothing now compared to the future. The future of Mingjue’s death and Xichen’s loss of every brother he had.

He lets himself collapse into Xichen’s embrace as Mingjue kneels beside his sworn brother and slides his hands through the messy robes and finds the notes, written in what Huaisang would consider pretty good renditions of Jin Guangyao and Jin Guanshan’s hand writing. He hadn’t though he could actually get them to look but he was nothing if not adaptable.

Mingjue’s face is unreadable as he passes the talisman’s to Lan Xichen and Xichen’s eyes darken. Huaisang knows he won’t be there to track down Xue Yang, he doesn’t want to be at 20 years old and he doesn’t want to be there at 36 years. He wants to sleep.

He sobs until Nie Zhongui is called and then latches onto him instead, listening to him promise to protect him no matter what. He wrings out promise after promise until Nie Zhongui owes him atleast another century of personal protection and two hours a week for the next month of painting together and finally allows himself to be quieted.

He’s taken back to his quarters and only an hour later, Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng are bursting through the doors like they’re fifteen again. Both are yelling questions and he wails as he hugs them, this time it’s not fake. They’re alive and they’re not grieving messes and he has his best friends with him for the first time in sixteen years and he cries and almost laughs as they panic trying to comfort him.

He has a lot more to do, he knows. He has to protect Wei Wuxian, has to save the Wens (though he’s certain a small baby A-Yuan will make that simple, Da-ge was weak for babies), he has to make sure Jin Guangshan is either dead or discredited so Wei Wuxian can’t be hunted down, has to shove Wei Wuxian back into the Jiang Sect and let Jiang Cheng’s insane protection streak go wild, and he has so so many fans to make to give his brother after he chews him out for not telling him about the Sabers and getting him to let Wei Wuxian help. He has so much to do and he is so tired.

But he’s lighter than he’s been in ages, his brother is safe, everyone he cares about is safe and he is happy.

(This is just a very rough draft of an idea lmao)

[j-wont-stop]

The Scarred (Chapter Five)

Title - The Scarred (Chapter Five)

Word Count - 2156

Fandom - Batman: The Dark Knight

Pairing - Ledger!Joker x OC

Summary - Penelope Bishop works at a florist shop in Gotham, barely getting by in the corrupted city. Her life is shrouded by therapy and judgement with little light to find her way with. However, when a certain painted face starts making himself known to her, things take a turn.

Warning(s) - Panic attack, murder, cussing

Inspiration - Cold (Aqualung & Lucy Schwartz)

Masterlist

The vase fell from her hands, the shattering glass echoing through the hall. Penelope’s mind grew petrified as she stared at the card sitting in the mess of glass, water and flowers. She fell back against her door frame, her breathing sharp and fast as she began to hyperventilate. She gripped onto the front of her bra to pull it away from her chest, looking for any kind of relief, any way to find space for her to breathe properly. Yet it did nothing. She knew she was making a scene, and she wanted so badly to hide away in her apartment. But what about the mess? She asked herself amid the chaos. Her heart pounded in her ears, drowning out the ambience around her.

“’Scuse me-?” Penelope shot straight up, eye frantically darting towards the new voice. A tall, slim man stood before her, hands held out in front of him as an offering of peace. “Apologies, I didn’ mean to alarm ye. Are ye alrigh’?” His bright eyes held a gentleness in them, the same as his voice. It was soothing in a way she had never before experienced. It was hardly able to calm her, however, in her panicked state. “Righ’, dumb question…” He mumbled to himself, glancing between Penelope and her welcome mat. “I’ll clean this up righ’ quick fer ye, tha’ alrigh’?” She gave the smallest nod, letting go of her bra to wipe the tears from her face as he disappeared.

She closed her eye, grounding in an attempt to compose herself. Never had she broken down in front of a stranger. And never had she felt more humiliated by it. Her eye snapped back open when she heard the sound of a plastic bag, eyeing the man warily as he walked back to start picking up the glass shards. He noticed how her breathing had only slightly improved, but it was progress.

“Why are you helping me?” The sound of her voice caught him off guard as he continued picking up the pieces.

“Juss doin’ my duty.”

“In Gotham?” The man sighed and looked up at her from where he was crouched on the floor.

“‘Ard as it is to believe, miss, not erryone in this city is a crook.” It wasn’t until then that she noticed his thick accent. It was a surprise to her, however one she greatly accepted. She felt childish for it, but she was excited as it was her first time meeting someone with one. “Ye wann’ keep this?” He asked, holding the Joker card between his index and middle fingers. She hesitated before reaching to grab it. “Now, I’m not all tha’ superstitious,” He stood up with a huff. “But if tha’ is a genuine Joker card, I’d watch out if I were ye. Yer either really lucky, er ‘bout to be really dead.” He noticed the growing fright in her eyes. “Or! Some guy is juss actin’ the maggot and playin’ wit’ ye.”

“People were scared enough to impersonate Batman, I don’t think they’d dare to impersonate The Joker himself.”

“Then pray yer juss really lucky.” He spoke in a softer tone. He began to tie the bag as she continued to carefully watch him. “I don’t believe I’ve caught yer name yet?”

“Penelope.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “Bishop.”

“Penelope?” The name left his lips in curiosity. “Tha’s a new one.” Her eye shifted to the ground. “Bu’ it’s refreshin’.” The man offered her a friendly smile, but her expression remained constant. “Liam Garson. Juss moved in couple a doors down.” He pointed off to his left.

“Why?” He threw her a confused look. “I mean, why Gotham?”

“Oh!” Liam chuckled. “Well, why not? Barely any restrictions with the mob and cops runnin’ ‘round lie’ chickens wit’ their ’eds cut off. Sure, muggers an’ the lie’ crawl abou’, but tha’s the price ye pay fer freedom, righ’?” He contained himself from beaming when she gave the ghost of a smile.

“Well, I see where your morals lie, Mr. Garson.”

“Liam.” He jested. “An’ I may lack some, but I’m better off than over ‘alf the boyos ‘ere.”

“’Boyos’?” Penelope gave a small chuckle.

“Males, juveniles, youngins.” She nodded in understanding. “Well, I’ll let ye be. Juss wanted to check on ye and make sure ye were alrigh’.” He started to back away. “If ye need anythin’, I’m in 329.” With a final salute, he disappeared into his own apartment. Penelope slowly turned around to head into her own, closing her door softly.

She looked down at the card caught in her nimble fingers. She couldn’t help the jolt that rushed through her body when she realized that if it was his card, he knew where she was. He knew who she was. She was somebody to him and she wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or terrified. It made her start to question her own morals. Any other person wouldn’t even think to be flattered, so why would she?

He was a murderer, a psychopath who wanted nothing more than to watch the city burn. And yet she had half a mind to consider being flattered. Really lucky or really dead. Why would she be dead? Had she angered someone without her knowing?

She froze.

“The boss.” She whispered to herself in realization. The bald man worked for The Joker. Which meant he knew where she worked. How much else did he know? Who all knew? How many people were following her? Question after question ran through her head and it was almost unbearable. She didn’t know what she even did to be on his radar in the first place.

“-patrolling the streets trying to trace his whereabouts for the time being, but so far-“ The news anchor’s voice hummed softly from her TV and she practically ran over to it, snatching the remote from the coffee table to turn up the volume.

“Well, John, I think it’s safe to say that The Joker’s escape is truly devastating for the people of Gotham. Not only in the sense that he has escaped, but it gives the chance for other criminals to wreak havoc on the city knowing that Batman will once again be busy with him.” The woman on the other line spoke. Penelope scoffed at her words.

“Way to give them ideas.” She mumbled to herself with a wide eye.

“Let’s just hope that Batman is able to do what he does best, and fast. Cause-“ Penelope switched the TV off, having heard enough of it. It upset her that the city was putting their faith in a masked man, that none of them had the nerve to do something themselves. That they couldn’t even rely on their own first responders. That she couldn’t rely on first responders.

She began to peel off her bandages, dragging her feet towards her bathroom. So much had happened in only a week and it all started to catch up to her, her head starting to pound from it all. The note. The glass. The bald man offering her a large sum of money for just a vase of flowers, finding out he worked for The Joker, finding out The Joker had been tracking her for who knows how long.

Penelope reached into her medicine cabinet for pain killers, deciding on taking two with a glass of water. Finally she laid down on her bed, snuggling up to her great fuzzy blanket with her eyes closed in an attempt to fall asleep. She briefly thought about telling Emma, but if she truly was dealing with The Joker, she wanted her involved as little as possible. For her safety. She thought to herself in reassurance before sleep took over.

��——————————————————————

The sounds of rushing water and seagulls filled the air around her, the occasional pair of footsteps passing by that she grew wary of from time to time. The sun began to disappear in the horizon, painting the sky with breathtaking shades of pink and orange on the rare cloudless evening. Music played softly from her phone that sat on one side of her, her dinner left half eaten on the other. Her short legs dangled lightly over the ledge as she watched from the pier. It was almost tradition on warmer nights, seeing it as a rarity. It would’ve been perfect if it wasn’t for the littered concrete and occasional plastic bag that floated by as a reminder of where she was. Along with the gun that clicked from behind her.

“I’d say just jump and save me the work, but then I wouldn’t get your money.” A gruff voice spoke. She didn’t dare move. Didn’t dare turn her head or flinch a finger. Her heart rate picked up, stomach churning. “Well?” The man urged, losing patience.

“I-I don’t have any.”

“How’d you get that nice dinner, then, huh?”

“Been saving up for it.” A lie. The man just chuckled.

“Alright. How about you get off of there, put your hands up, and then face me. Slow.”

“I-I can’t.”

“You can’t?”

“I can’t raise my hands.” She told him as she awkwardly turned around on the ledge.

“Alright, enough talking-“ The man halted, red quickly seeping through his jacket. Blood dribbled down his chin. She watched in horror as he collapsed.

“I agree.” Penelope looked up to see the man who had helped her the day before. He walked around the mugger towards her, bloodied switchblade in hand. When he saw her flinch he slowed his pace, tucking away the weapon to make her more comfortable.

“Y-you just-“ She spoke frantically, pointing towards the now dead body with a shaky hand.

“Killed a man?” She nodded quickly. He tilted his head dismissively. “Aye. The bastard ‘ad it comin’.” She shied away from him as he took a seat next to her, arms folded. “Relax, miss. I juss saved yer life, did I not?” He looked over at her to see her chewing on her cheek.

“Why?”

“‘Why’ what? Why did I do it-?”

“Yes.” He hesitated for a moment.

“Why not?” The man shrugged. “Was either he killed you or I killed ‘im, an’ I wouldn’t dare let such a beautiful woman go to waste lie’ tha’.” Penelope scrunched her nose and scoffed.

“Beautiful woman…” She mumbled to herself. “If you think I’m easily won over by flattery, you’re wrong.”

“With all due respect, miss, I wasn’t talkin’ ‘bout fer meself.” The brunette noticed her eye take on a more gentle stare. He sighed, scratching at his beard.

“Why’re you here?” She asked, rubbing her left arm.

“I could ask ye the same question.” Penelope looked at him quizzically.

“Dinner.” Liam nodded.

“Was on a walk. ‘Eard the ruckus. Came to see what was ‘appenin’.”

“That’s quite a coincidence.”

“Aye. It sure is. A damn good one, if I do say so meself.” Silence fell between the two of them, however it was peaceful. Penelope quite enjoyed it. “If ye don’t mind me askin’,” Liam broke in. “What do ye plan on doin’ wit’ this Joker business? Assumin’ it’s not too late already. I mean, ‘ave ye told anybody?” She shook her head, focusing on her breathing.

“I haven’t.” Penelope swallowed as Liam raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Ye ‘aven’t? Well, why not? Not even the cops?”

“What’ll they do?” She finally looked up at him. “What will they do? You’re the one that was saying yesterday that they’re all running around like chickens with their heads cut off.“ She began to rant, everything starting to catch up to her. Her eye began to glisten as it watered over. “And if they can’t help me, who can? Certainly not Batman!“ She spit the masked man’s name with venom. “They couldn’t even keep him behind bars to keep the city safe! Why the hell would they care to keep The Joker from coming for just a single person, a nobody, from coming for me-!”

“Miss!” Liam held onto her shoulders, keeping her steady. In a moment of desperation, she clung to him, and once again she caught him off guard as she started to break down for the second time. He began to gently stroke her back and sighed. “Ye’ve been dealing wit’ this a while now, ‘aven’t ye?” He spoke just above a whisper and he felt a shift in her head, a confirmation. A van sat in the distance, tinted windows making it impossible to see through. It was cracked enough for him to see who was in it and he made eye contact with a pair of almost pure black eyes, giving them a faint nod.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Lotus Pier was always loyal, aware in the way that objects only are after hundreds of years, and she expected to disappear after she was destroyed. Instead she wakes up, rebuilt in both place and spirit, stronger than ever, at the hands of a grieving Jiang Cheng.

The Lotus Pier always loved the bright spirits of the world, the free and unrestrained; she held them cupped in her hand like birds, ready to fly away, to go where their whim takes them, to return because they loved her. Her cultivators reflected that, shining bright, standing against the world and attempting the impossible.

But they were only humans, their lives short and too easily cut shorter; when the invading armies came to the Pier, she tried her best to help her people – help them fight, help them flee – but the enemy was already invited inside her gates.

There was nothing she could do.

Her walls were thrown open, her treasures taken, her children killed – her very core, layer upon layer of arrays painted by all the Jiang sect disciples through all the years, violated.

The Wens sought to make her their own, in their blunt, stupid, grasping way. They didn’t know what she was, of course. No one knew. Only the Sect Leader – each one learning about her from their predecessor at the moment of their accession, the secret as well as a set of vows, an oath of mutual loyalty, and those who refused the oath were killed at the very moment of their supposed triumph.

Her children were good to her. In return, she was good to them.

When the Wens tried to seize control of her, to make her nothing more than a fortress, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to disappear – to die, destroyed in both body and soul, rather than allow herself to be used by those who killed her children.

She did not expect that anyone would be able to reawaken her.

Who could? It was impossible. Only the Sect Leader knew her secrets – and he was dead, dead long before he could pass along his knowledge to his heir, and of course it wasn’t written down anywhere.

Awakening, therefore, came as a surprise.

It was even more of a surprise to realize that she was still herself, still the Lotus Pier of old; she had half-expected the Wen sect to have cracked open her arrays and found a way to make her obedient.

But no.

It was not the Wens.

It was a single man, little more than a half-grown boy, kneeling in the center of an array painted in his own heart’s blood, his chest still wet as the bandages slowly soaked through.

He was wearing her purple, embroidered with her lotuses.

“My name is Jiang Cheng,” he said, and her heart thrilled: of course he was a Jiang. Only her children would be brave enough to attempt something as insane as this. “Great Spirit, I come to you as a supplicant. I need your power to help me protect my home.”

He did not know who she was.

It amused her not to tell him – meaning only to hide it for a little, only at first, of course. He was a Jiang, and Sect Leader; they were bound together, the two of them, like the Nies and their sabers.

It was fun at first.

Jiang Cheng was rebuilding her body, each plank and each joint fitting together, the wood from the best of trees, the arrays hidden within the walls. He spoke to her about it, sometimes – it took him a while to get used to her dwelling inside of him, her presence at the back of his head, but in time he got used to it.

It didn’t seem as if he had anyone else to talk to.

He loved her, dearly. She could see it in the way his hands were soft over her, the way he worried over small details, the way he insisted everything had to be perfect.

He did not think she loved him.

She didn’t find that out until some time in: he was proud, her little Jiang, full of pride, but his shoulders were weighed down with grief and responsibility. He was not spontaneous, preferring rules that he could understand and implement – he had been a disappointment to someone once, and it had sunk into his bones. With a rule he could do the right thing and hope to please; without, he was on his own, and he had no faith in himself. He knew himself to be no genius, knew that all he had to offer was his hard work – and oh, he worked so hard. He tried, so hard.

And he thought that it meant nothing.

“Wei Wuxian knew the motto better than me,” he said once. “The impossible was easy for him, a snap of his fingers…impulsive, reckless, free. A proper Jiang. He always said he had a mother and a father, that all the rumors about my father being his were false, but how would he know? Was he there when he was conceived? Or maybe it’s just easy enough to understand, so easy that someone else’s son can do it, and only I fail to even grasp it.”

The Lotus Pier did not pay much attention to the bright sparks that drifted above her, certainly didn’t know them by name; she did not know who Wei Wuxian was. Still, her heart hurt to hear her Jiang speak about himself like that.

You did the impossible, she reminded him. You survived. You revived. You returned. You summoned me.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “I only did it because I’m the only one left. Anyone else would have done a better job than me, but there was only ever me.”

She argued with him, confused as to how the Jiang sect motto had been so perverted – it didn’t matter if he was stiff and stern, if he liked rules, if he liked winning, if he was grumpy and rude and prone to yelling, expressing affection through his scolding rather than warmth; it didn’t matter if his first thought each morning was of his obligations and what he needed to do, rather than what he wanted, that he put his sect first in his heart over all other matters; it didn’t matter that he needed to think about what was right and what was wrong rather than simply knowing immediately in his heart what he should do.

That was who he was, the boy he was born and the man he’d become. That was fine.

All she’d ever cared about was that they be resolute and determined, brave enough to do what must be done without flinching.

Her little Jiang Cheng – he did the impossible every day, all alone, and he never once realized it.

Eventually, she told him who she was.

He did not take it especially well. But then, she’d expected that – he was most sensitive to matters of deception, tender in only the way a boy who had been a little too trusting could be. She regretted that she’d hurt him, that she hadn’t realized that he wouldn’t enjoy her teasing the way some of his ancestors did – but in the end he had bound himself to her, body and soul, so it wasn’t as though all his storming around could really have an impact.

He did leave, for a while. When he came back, he had a small child asleep in his arms and a beatific expression of sheer joy.

“My sister’s child,” he explained, having apparently completely forgotten how she’d hurt him. He’d remember later, of course, in the dark of the night when he counted all his grievances, but right now he needed to tell someone and she was, very sadly, the only person he knew. “Jin Ling. When he’s older, I’ll introduce him to you.”

She reminded him that her presence was usually a secret kept to the Sect Leader.

“What good does that do? If I get killed, won’t you just disappear again? Besides, he deserves to meet you. He deserves everything I can give him, and more.”

It turned out the sister was dead, too. Dead, like his parents, like Wei Wuxian – he’d had an old grandmother who’d come to help for a while, but she hadn’t long survived burying her black-haired daughter.

He only had the child – and her.

Time passed quickly enough, and the Lotus Pier flourished under Jiang Cheng’s control. He indulged her just as he indulged his nephew, building her more bridges, more buildings, another pier or two; she was pleased by it, spoiled by it.

Used to it.

And then something came and nearly destroyed it all. Someone.

She wasn’t aware all the time, spending much of her time simply being the Pier, and so she only saw a small part of it – Jiang Cheng screaming (not new), sobbing (not especially new), and then running around like a maniac, begging for people to try to draw a sword from its sheath (new and a little disturbing).

He retreated to the room that held her core and collapsed on the array.

“It’s not mine,” he said, his face covered. “It’s all been him. Everything I’ve done – all his. Same as always. I’m always second to him –”

He said more than that, too. Not very intelligently, or coherently, but in time the story came out.

He gave you nothing but power. You did the rest. You were the one who build me back up from nothing, alone; not him, you. He left. You stayed.

“Just wait,” he said. “Just wait. He’ll come back, one day, and then you’ll see – he’s just like what you like best. Better than me. Everyone likes him better. Even Jin Ling – you’ll see.”

The Lotus Pier did not keep people by force: she let her birds fly free, following their hearts. She did not consider herself abandoned when people left, no matter how good or bad the reason. And yet…

“He loves him,” Jin Ling told her, curled up in his room. “Uncle loves Senior Wei so much. He gave up everything for him. Did he tell you?”

I live in his mind. I know.

“I don’t know why he won’t make up with him!”

Wei Wuxian followed his heart. Jiang Cheng followed his. Their paths conflicted; their hearts broke. Who is to say the path chosen by one, trying his best, is better than the other’s attempt to do the same?  

“But they’ll both be happier if they make up. Senior Wei is – I don’t know. I like him. It’d make Uncle happy to have him back. Even if only sometimes, if only for a little. I wish there was something I could do!”

Your uncle is competitive. Remind him that you love him best. It will help calm him.

It wasn’t clear to her what exactly Jin Ling did – it wasn’t at the Pier – but somehow Wei Wuxian came to visit, his husband in tow, a wary but hopeful expression on his face. They had dinner together, all of them. It was awkward and awful, Jiang Cheng alternating between snapping and biting his tongue, Wei Wuxian making light of things he shouldn’t and dismissing past pain, Lan Wangji looking as though he would rather be dead and Jin Ling with his head in his hands more often than not.

Bring him to see me.

“Absolutely not!” Jiang Cheng blurted out.

Wei Wuxian, who had been in the middle of complaining about eating nothing but vegetables at family feasts, stared.

“He wasn’t talking to you,” Jin Ling clarified, but that didn’t help; if anything, Wei Wuxian looked even more concerned.

He won’t understand. Bring him to me.

Jiang Cheng swallowed, his fingers clenching in fear; she has told him time and time again that she would never abandon him, couldn’t, but he still didn’t believe her.

Still – he loved her. He loved her best.

He stood up.

“Come with me,” he said.

“Where?” Lan Wangji asked, suspicious.

“The ancestral hall.”

“I thought you said I wasn’t allowed there,” Wei Wuxian said with a nervous laugh.

“I need to show you something,” Jiang Cheng said. “Just you. There’s – someone I want you to meet.”

[platypanthewriter]

Lake

Harringrove April Prompt 25: Lake!  Billy's a little bit haunted, or maybe a little bit crazy, but Steve knew that when he asked him out.  He doesn't mind.

Steve found Billy at the docks, staring out over the northeast shore of Lake Superior.  “Hey, hey, babe,” he said, pulling him away.  “You didn’t bring your meds.  Let’s get some food in you, and you can take your pills, okay?”

“What if she doesn’t want me to…?” Billy asked, watching the still, deep water over his shoulder.

“Sssh,” Steve said.  “She would want you to.  She would.  Fuck, you scared me,” Steve said, tugging him back towards solid ground, and laughing with relief.  His eyes were wet and bloodshot, and Billy tried to pay closer attention.  

“Sorry,” he said, remembering the night before in a dim haze.  “I...wanted to ask her.”

“Come away from the lake,” Steve whispered.  “You don’t come here alone, remember?  I brought your diving stuff, okay?  You need to wear it.  She doesn’t want you to drown.”

Billy nodded, feeling a little more solid, with Steve holding his arms.  “I don’t have to ask her right now,” he said uncertainly, shaking a little as he let his fear of drowning push him away.  The guilt washed over him, and he closed his eyes.  “No, no—no, I can’t leave yet—”

“We’ll come back,” Steve told him, pulling him into a hug.  “Right after you get some food and some sleep, okay?  Just a few hours.”  His arms were warm and strong, and Billy shuddered, breathing the laundry smell of Steve’s jacket.  

“I need to talk to her,” Billy whispered, and Steve pulled back and cupped his face, stroking his thumbs up Billy’s cheeks.  Billy closed his eyes, sighing.

“Remember what the rangers said?” Steve told him.  “They can’t let people dive unless they’re well-fed and rested, right?  You have to let me take care of you first, and then we’ll go see your mom.”

“Yeah,” Billy nodded, mumbling.  “Yeah, okay.  Okay.”

Steve pushed him into the car, and cranked up the heat, and by the time they turned off for the diner, Billy was half-asleep.  “...how long were you standing on that dock, babe,” Steve asked softly, his hands white-knuckled on the steering wheel.

Billy considered, folding his hands.  “...I knew you didn’t want me to jump in,” he said, and Steve took a shuddery breath, wiped his eyes, and slapped his hand over to squeeze Billy’s, hard.  “I wasn’t gonna jump in,” Billy said, again, because they’d talked about it, and he’d promised.  “I told you.”

“But you disappeared,” Steve said, shaking Billy’s fist, a little.  “You drove up here overnight, you didn’t leave a note, you didn’t even take your diving shit—”

“...I didn’t want to wake you up,” Billy said numbly, grimacing at Steve’s hand on his.  “...sorry.”

“Just kinda freaked me out,” Steve said, thickly, as he pulled into the parking lot.  “What did you want to tell your mom?”

Billy shot a glower at him.  “Who’s the crazy one here?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.  “You fucking proposed, dumbass, remember?”

“Yeah,” Steve laughed, wiping his eyes.  “So...I mean, are you asking if you can say yes, or just like...what…”  

Billy bit his lips together, closing his eyes tightly, as he remembered the worn rubber of the regulator hose, and his father’s snarl as Billy tried to point it out, his eyes swollen with tears, his throat hurting from sobs.  

“...she…” Billy said softly, unable to say aloud what he’d done, after his dad came back to the surface without her.  Billy’d taken Steve to visit her, finally, after three years of waking up beside him—driven him to the lake, and rented the diving gear, and trained him on week-long “vacations” Steve obviously thought were weird, but went along with—but Billy could not...quite...tell Steve what had happened after the last time Billy saw her alive.

They’d called it in and left.  Billy had let himself be shoved back into the truck without her and driven clear back to the motel, stumbling through his tears, and they hadn’t even waited to help search.  

She’d loved both of them, Billy knew, and after his dad had swum back to the boat without her, Billy hadn’t waxed the zipper to keep the freezing water of Lake Superior out of his father’s drysuit, or told his dad about the dry, crumbly feel of the edge of the rubber regulator hose.  After his father dove the next time they drove to the lake, Billy had leaned over the edge of the boat and waited for the bubbles, like in a Disney movie, but the water was still.  It was possible, Billy’d thought much later, that the currents had drawn Neil Hargrove’s body, and his last choking gasps for air, well away from the boat—or maybe he’d realized, and swum up too fast, and the blood had spilled from his veins into his lungs.  

His mom must have known, he’d thought, floating down there somewhere below the boat, looking up at her son and her husband.  She’d seen him let his father dive alone, and she’d seen Billy hold the wax in his hand, and pretend to wax the zipper, so Neil Hargrove’s suit didn’t flood 200 feet under the surface of the murky water.  She must’ve seen what Billy had done to the man she loved enough to vow her life to, in sickness and in health.  

He thought, watching Steve’s hand on his, she might have some objections to Billy making vows of his own.  It had taken him years to find her, with her neon regulator hose cover—too long to tell, really, how exactly her gear had failed, or do much more for her than wrap the gold chain with Billy’s class ring and his dad’s wedding ring around her arm.  He’d lingered around, for a while, wishing his air regulator allowed him to speak, watching her hair waft in the green light of his flashlight, and the grit from above fall through the beam.

He’d never found her again.

 The diner lady recognized them—she’d seen Billy around the lake since he was holding his mother and father’s hands, swinging between them—and she gave them a great big booth with a nice view of the shore, even though there was a party of five waiting ahead.  

“Hi, honey,” she said, squeezing Billy’s shoulder, and then patting Steve’s.

Billy stared out at the lake.  He blinked down at the toast and eggs Steve ordered him when it showed up, and licked his teeth, considering what to say.  After a minute, Steve waved a fork at him.

“Eat your eggs,” he suggested, smiling a little crookedly, and Billy shut his eyes for a long second, considering breaking his promise, and diving off the pier, and just...seeing what his mom would do.  Standing there half the night, he’d half expected to feel her fingers wrap around his ankle—revenge for killing the man she loved.  Revenge for failing to find her, maybe, he thought, sighing, and picking up his fork, revenge for leaving maybe.  In Billy’s worst nightmares, she was still alive somewhere below when Neil surfaced, and took the boat, and she watched them go as her lungs filled with dark, cold water.  

Maybe she wanted revenge for Billy being happy, occasionally, when he hadn’t even tried to find her, that first day.  He swallowed, sawing through the crispy edge of the egg white, and told himself what Steve had told him, once, shaking him on the boat—it wouldn’t be Billy’s mom deciding, if he jumped into Lake Superior without his diving gear. Physics would decide his fate then, and maybe Billy’s mom didn’t want her whole family to die in the waters of Lake Superior.

Billy nodded to himself, taking a shaky breath, and chewed.

 After eating, Steve hauled him back to a motel room, curling around him on the bed and kissing his neck.  “You don’t have to say yes,” he whispered, pulling one of Billy’s hands up to kiss it.  “We don’t have to get married.  Nothing would change.”

Billy squeezed his hand, thinking, stomach-droppingly, of somehow knowing his mom wanted him to.  Wanted him happy, wanted him curled up with Steve at home, safe and well, with her husband, Billy’s father, dead by Billy’s hand.  He took a long, steadying breath through his nose, and wondered whether Steve would want to marry him, if he knew.  

“Tell me what’s going on in there,” Steve said, kissing the nape of his neck, and Billy groaned.  

“Just being crazy,” he sighed.

“...crazy how?” Steve asked softly.

“Just thinking,” Billy told him, shutting his eyes tightly, and Steve nodded, squeezing him again.  

“...about your mom, or your dad?” he whispered, and Billy flinched, then snorted a laugh.

“...pretty obvious, huh,” he breathed, and Steve nodded again, holding him tighter.

“...why would I be thinking about my dad,” Billy hissed, belatedly, because all Steve knew was that Neil Hargrove was dead.

“...mmn,” Steve said, but Billy’s heart had started pounding, and he pulled away, sitting up.  

“The fuck did you hear,” he asked, his throat hurting again as he breathed.  His vision blurred with tears.

“Nothing...certain,” Steve told him, pulling back as Billy drew away.  “It’s not like I was asking around—”

“What did you hear,” Billy rasped, and Steve bit his lips, thinking.  “...just tell me!” Billy shouted, startling at the volume of his own voice, and Steve sighed.

“I heard they went out when you were what, nine?” he said, and Billy clenched his fingers in his jeans, listening like his whole body was attuned to Steve’s channel.  “They took you on the boat.  Your mom and dad dove…” Steve trailed off, and Billy swallowed.  “She didn’t come back up,” Steve whispered, watching him.

Billy whispered “Fuck,” rubbing his face with his sleeves.  “Keep going,” he said.

“...I heard a lot about your dad,” Steve said, trying to keep his voice low, and Billy laughed, setting his jaw.  “He sounds like he was...a piece of work,” Steve ventured.  “I got told he...hit you.”

“You got told right,” Billy said, crossing his arms.  “So?”

“He took you out to dive the Madeira,” Steve said, raising his eyebrows, “—just you and him, and when we did it, you checked the weather every hour and then pulled the plug, because the wind was kicking up.  I checked the weather that day, babe, the day your father died?  And it was windier than the day you wouldn’t go, with both of us, to watch each other’s backs.  He went alone.”

“...it’d have been more dangerous to take me,” Billy said slowly, thinking about it, but Steve cut him off.

“Yeah!  Yeah, it would have been more dangerous to take you, babe, you were a kid, jesus.”  He shuddered.  “At least he had that much sense.  But okay,” he said, counting off a finger, “—he went in windy weather.  Too windy.”  He counted off another one.  “He left you alone on the boat for hours, which isn’t really the point, but I just wanted to bring that up.  How old were you?”

“...nine,” Billy admitted, frowning.  He felt like he wanted to argue, but Steve hadn’t said anything that wasn’t true.  “He just wanted somebody to pass the weights and tanks to.”

“And could you lift the weights and tanks?” Steve asked, and Billy remembered his dad shoving him and yelling as Billy struggled to drag them away.

“I could drag them,” he whispered, letting Steve grab his hand, and tug him closer.

“When you’re getting out of choppy water on a windy day, is it safe to have somebody who can’t help you out of the water?” Steve asked, the same questions Billy usually directed to him.  

Billy bit his lips, shaking his head.

“Is it safe to bring someone who can’t lift the tanks, and could drop them on your face?” Steve asked pointedly, and Billy shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut.

“It’s not like that,” he whispered.  “Steve, I—I didn’t wax his zipper, his suit could’ve leaked—”

“Not that much,” Steve said, unimpressed.  “He got some perky nips, maybe.”

Billy’s throat closed over the next confession, but he rubbed his face, and took a deep breath.  “His regulator hose felt—the rubber was old,” he choked out.  “Felt dry and—and crispy, I bet it cracked, a hundred and ten feet under the water, I bet his lungs filled with water—”

“Billy,” Steve sighed, yanking him into a bone-crushing hug.  “He went on a dangerous dive alone.  You never go alone.  What do you always tell me?”

“Never dive alone,” Billy whispered, swallowing hard, and fighting to breath against his shuddering lungs.  

“It’s too dangerous,” Steve whispered.  “Your dad died diving alone.  You know how dangerous it is.”

“I didn’t tell him about the regulator hose,” Billy sobbed into his boyfriend’s shoulder.  “I didn’t tell him—”

“Babe, babe,” Steve whispered, pulling Billy more between his thighs, against his chest.  “He made a nine-year old check his equipment.  You were scared of him.  How many times do you check equipment?”

“...always double-check,” Billy whispered, sighing it into Steve’s wet shoulder.

“Do you let somebody else check it?” Steve asked, kissing his hair, and Billy laughed, sniffling.

“Check it yourself,” he whispered.  “Fuck.  I thought—” he cleared his throat, his tears spilling over more with relief, now that he knew Steve had heard everything.  “I thought you’d…”

“Is that what you were thinking about?” Steve asked, squinting.  “Him being really irresponsible?  How the hell long were you in that boat before you went back to shore?”

“...all night,” Billy whispered, remembering.  

“Jesus fucking christ,” Steve muttered, squeezing him tighter again.  “Babe, your mom must be so glad you survived.”  Billy made a weird frog gulping noise as his lungs jerked, and then laughed into Steve’s shoulder.  “...let’s get some sleep and make sure we’re safe for a dive later,” Steve whispered,” and Billy nodded, shivering.  

 Billy laid staring at the ceiling as Steve snored softly into his shoulder, remembering how in the diving mask, his mother couldn’t kiss him goodbye.  She’d made a heart-shape with her fingers, her eyes on him as she stepped backwards off the boat—and when Billy had finally found her, he’d almost yanked her mask off, a decade later, to kiss her face, and then jerked his hands back, shuddering as she drifted with the current, the weights on her diving belt dragging her down to the lake floor again.

 When Billy woke again, Steve was poring over the maps of the currents again.  “I plotted out some spots for next time,” he said, tapping his pencil on the spot, but Billy just leaned in and kissed him, remembering all at once that this man had dropped everything to drive to another state in the middle of the night, knowing it was to help search, again and again, for Billy’s dead mother.  Steve startled, and then grinned against Billy’s lips.

“...sorry,” Billy whispered, sighing.  

“I asked for some time off next month if you wanna start pushing further south,” Steve said, and Billy nodded, biting his lips.  

“...you want to get us some food before we go?” Billy asked, and Steve blinked at him.  

“...it’s noon, babe, by the time we get everything and get out there…”

“Better hurry, then,” Billy told him, and Steve grimaced, but got up and started yanking his shoes on.  Billy waited for the door to shut, and then took a deep, shuddery breath, leaning his head in his hands, and finally dug around in his stuff for the old, water-stained notebook he used to record dives.  He flipped to a new page, and began to write.  He wrote for a while, his eyes burning and then just spilling over, dripping warm down his cheeks, until Steve stomped back in with burgers, and Billy ripped the pages out, and folded them up.

The burgers smelled good, better than breakfast, and Billy’s stomach growled.  He waved Steve over from where he’d paused at the door, watching Billy fold up the letter.

“...who’s that to?” Steve asked, trying not to sound worried, and Billy got up and went over to kiss him, and steal the bag of burgers.  

“My mom,” he said.  “I mean, I know she’s not really gonna—”

“Can I write one?” Steve asked, because he never just told Billy he was crazy, like anybody else would have, and Billy pushed him back against the door, sliding his thumb over his boyfriend’s lips.  

“Love you,” Billy told him, leaning in for a slow kiss.  Steve’s lips were cold—from the wind outside, but also from the chocolate milkshake he tasted like.  

 They went down around two in the afternoon, Steve checking his watch again and again beforehand.  “It’s fine,” Billy told him, and Steve nodded, trusting him—and Billy’d been aware, before, that he had to check and triple check Steve’s equipment, had to get him out of the water before it got too dark to navigate on the lake, had to keep him safe—but the knowledge that his dad, an experienced diver, had died on a dive shallower than Billy’d been planning was starting to sink in.  They reached about 80 feet down, the safe depth for recreational divers, and Billy swam over and grabbed Steve’s arm, shaking his head.  Steve looked at him, his frown intent through the mask, and then down, his flashlight fading into the distance of another two hundred feet of lake depth, where they’d combed and combed before.  

Billy shook his head again, and pulled out the letter.  He let it go—he’d stuck a few rocks in there, so it would eventually sink—and pointed up.  Steve watched their letters, sealed in the same envelope, drift downward, and then frowned at Billy’s face again—and Billy wanted his boyfriend out of there, suddenly, out of the depths that had killed his father, and his mother.

He pointed up, and Steve nodded.  He searched Billy’s face at their first safety-stop, waiting while their bodies worked through the nitrogen from the deep dive, and Billy watched him back, wondering whether he’d been wrong all this time, and his mom was cursing him down there for risking Steve Harrington to find her.  Billy made the little heart-shape with his fingers that his mom had, the last time he saw her, and Steve’s eyes widened.  He made some noise with a lot of bubbles—he still forgot he couldn’t talk—and grabbed Billy’s arm, but there wasn’t much Billy could do, so he just waited, raising his eyebrows.  

 When they got to the surface, Steve stripped off most of his gear and flopped to the deck of their rented boat, groaning.  Instead of starting up the motor, Billy sat next to him.  

“What’s up?” Steve asked, watching him.  “...do you want to...try and get her up here, put her in an urn, or—”

“I don’t want to find her again,” Billy admitted, and Steve sat up, frowning at him.  “She—I said goodbye, but—” he laughed, grimacing.  “It was so fucking creepy, Steve, she was just drifting along, she wasn’t—she wasn’t my mom, anymore, she was all—” he waved his hand, “—through the glass, she…” he trailed off.

Steve had seen the faces of Lake Superior’s dead, down in the wrecks and along the bottom where it was too deep for the sun, and too cold for decomposition.  He nodded, and just scooted closer, sliding an arm around Billy’s waist.  

“She loved diving,” Billy whispered.  “She’s...she’s fine down there, I don’t...I don’t want to see her again.  I’m sorry I took you down there.  Kept...taking you down there.”

Steve kissed his wet hair, pulling their heads together.  “It’s all right,” he said.  “I knew you were a little haunted when I asked you out,” he offered, shrugging, and Billy barked out a startled laugh.  

“I told her we wouldn’t be back,” Billy said, swallowing as his throat started to close again.  He sniffled.  “In the letter.  I told her you’d asked me to marry you.  I wish—” he broke off, and Steve waited, then squeezed their heads together again, as Billy bit his lips together, and shut his eyes tight.  

“...the lady at the diner said she was so excited to spend time with you,” Steve said, and Billy’s tears started up again, and he swore.  “She said your mom always tried to get them to make shaped pancakes for you.  Like Mickey Mouse.”

“They were shit at it,” Billy choked out.  “Didn’t even like Mickey Mouse, she just thought they could get three circles right, and they fucked it up—”

“And the last thing your mom did was make that little heart shape, right,” Steve whispered, and Billy nodded, taking shuddery breaths.  “So I’m getting a message your mom sent over a decade ago,” Steve said, putting his hand over his ear, like he had a Star Trek communicator.  “It must just be coming in now because we’re right over her.”

Billy snorted a wet laugh, shoving at him.

“She loves you and wants you to be happy, and we can visit her here, from the boat,” Steve said, then pretended to listen.  “Oh, um.  That’s all she said.”

“Bullshit,” Billy laughed, leaning into him.  “What’d my mom say?”

“She told me to give you time,” Steve said, squeezing him again, and Billy groaned, burying his face in Steve’s shoulder.  “As much time as you need, okay?”

“I’ve had enough time,” Billy sighed.

“Don’t argue with your mother,” Steve told him, and Billy laughed, half sobbing, for most of the boat ride back.

 Here are my other Harringrove April prompts!

[fonulyn]

fonulyn’s 2020 in fics

this is kind of exciting since in 2020 I did get a lot writing done, and it marks the second year in a row that I’m able to actually make one of these posts after that horrible not good at all terrible disastrous three and a half years when I wrote absolutely nothing. so it’s a triumph to get another one of these up! personal victory haha.

in total, in 2020 I wrote 148 fics, ranging from like 200 words to 34k (idk if those short things can be called fics but i just did). by pairing, there’s

13 of Joe/Nicky

58 of Piers/Leon

56 of Chris/Leon

(1 with Piers/Leon and Chris/Leon)

5 of the ot3 (Chris/Leon/Piers)

11 of Krauser/Leon

3 of Wesker/Chris (lmao still can’t believe this)

1 of Chris/Leon/Krauser

so. in retrospect, i did okay. 

it’s over 300 thousand words and I am kind of. surprised. and that is not counting the approximately 50k of wips i’m ignoring :’D

I’d also like to take a second to thank everyone who has ever sent me nice messages, commented on the fics, left reblogs or kudos, and the like. you’re what kept me going, I wouldn’t have gotten even half as much done otherwise.

without further ado, links to all of the fics under the cut! they’re organized by pairing, and the links take you to tumblr posts (bc I’m lazy) and a lot of them have a link in the post that takes you to ao3. (also can you see I put ~~so much~~ effort into naming the tumblr ficlets :’D feel free to laugh at me)

Joe/Nicky

a dog by any other name | 1,5k | The one wherein they end up owning a dog.

within the heart a flame of desires | 5,0k | Nicolo watches Yusuf have sex with others, desperately wishing he was with him instead. Until things change. He much prefers having Yusuf all for himself.

the world will wait | 2,4k | The one wherein Joe takes a lot of naps and the whole team gets to relax.

catch this | 650w | Every time Joe gets distracted (by Nicky), Andy tries to take him by surprise.

nobody’s perfect | 1,9k | Even immortal warriors have their weaknesses, Nile learns. Those just aren’t what she expected.

only in these arms | 780w | Nicky has trouble sleeping alone. Andy is a decent substitute, but only when Joe returns so does Nicky’s ability to get a decent night’s rest.

(please don’t explain) that time in Malta | 580w | Nile doesn’t think at first it would even be possible for Joe to be embarrassed. By anything. Until one evening, they talk about Malta.

cool it down boys | 400w | Andy gets no sleep. She gets revenge, though.

cowboy, baby | 340w | Nicky has the fashion sense of a sack of flour, and he is fine with that.

that day is not today | 4,9k | They struggle through the whole lab-experience. It isn’t the time yet to forgive Booker.

tea, soup and tlc | 2k | The one wherein Joe is not sick. At all. Nope. He isn't.

two drinks too many | 770w | Nicky is a little drunk. Joe loves him anyway.

safe haven | 3,9k | The one wherein everyone gets quality cuddles from Joe.

Piers/Leon

it was you that I found | 23,4k | Leon doesn’t really do relationships. Not because he doesn’t want to, but because he always seems to be so bad at them. Of course entirely by accident he manages to build one without even realizing it. 

unexpected visitor | 690w | Piers is forced on bed-rest. At least Leon stops by.

got me all tied up (never let me go) | 4,0k | Piers doesn’t like suits. Leon loves Piers in a suit.

not so subtle | 210w | “Soo, were you checking me out all night, or was that just my imagination?” Leon asks suddenly, Piers chokes on his drink in surprise.

nighttime fools | 4,8k | Piers and Leon get arrested for public indecency. It’s not their fault, honest.

piers isn’t sick, really, he isn’t (he is) | 670w | “Oh, hi,” Piers said immediately, a goofy smile slipping onto his face. Man, he was happy to see Leon. So happy to see him.  

so you’ve met Xena | 620w | “Xena?” Leon turned to look at Piers, decidedly unimpressed. “You named your dog after the Warrior Princess?“

you’re cute, you know | 680w | Piers took the opportunity the second their gazes met. He grinned, as charmingly as he possibly managed, and said “You’re cute, you know that?“

kiss the nightmares away | 470w | Sleepily Piers blinked, trying to make his eyes work properly. He squinted at the digital clock on the bedside, and its harsh red numbers that told him it was 3:30, and confusedly he turned to frown at Leon. “Why aren’t you sleeping?“

smooth talking, Nivans, very smooth | 1,4k | Piers can not control what comes out of his mouth.

dream a little (dirty) dream of me | 1,3k | Piers wakes Leon up. That's it.

your shirt is my shirt | 950w | With a sigh Piers grabbed the only shirt available that wasn’t battery operated and obnoxious. It was Leon’s, so old that the print had faded completely, leaving only faint outlines behind. And when Piers pulled it on he grumbled again, realizing how tight it was.

here for you | 620w | Leon can’t sleep, but somehow Piers makes his anxieties bleed away. 

grand plans | 260w | “Are you seriously going to wear that?”

new puppy | 430w | “Hey there little guy.” Leon bent down to pick up the little puppy, straightening again to hold it against his chest. His hands looked almost comically large as the dog was so tiny, and carefully he cradled it close.

a little bit funny | 850w | So maybe Piers hadn’t slept properly in days, and the sleep deprivation was making him a little hysterical, but he didn’t even remember when a stupid comedy would’ve made him laugh so much.

for now our time is here | 4,4k | When Chris had told them to wait up and left them alone for a while, this probably wasn’t what he’d been expecting, but the second he’d closed the door behind himself the tension that had been brewing between Leon and Piers had snapped like a cord.

wanting too much | 1,1k | “Fucking hell, never do that to me again,“ Leon huffed out, clearly relieved beyond anything.

the prettiest agent with the prettiest hair | 1,2k | Piers stress-braids. Leon doesn't mind. And besides, Piers always undoes the braids whenever he's done with them. Until one night he forgets.

you can be the air that i breathe | 1,0k |  It wasn’t the first time Piers got punched in the face by a gigantic BOW so hard that the hit sent him flying. It was, however, the first time he was sent careening off a bridge and into the river below. And it was, definitely, the first time Leon saved his life.  

before I found you | 890w | The second Piers realized that the spikes covering the monster actually came off, and it was able to shoot them towards its attackers, it was already too late for him to react.

you don’t need to stay | 950w | Piers did his best to take care of Leon.  And as much as Leon appreciated it, he didn’t want to be a goddamn nuisance.

need me, baby, just a little stronger tonight | 2,1k | Leon really has to practice perfecting his poker face. At least he gets what he wants in the end.

be my valentine | 920w | “Are you sure?“ Piers asked for the tenth time, frowning down at the bar of Fazer blue chocolate. “I still think it’s… not a lot?”

you're the world that I wanna discover | 7,5k | The one wherein they buy a house, fall even more in love, and Leon reaches a breaking point.

call me (tell me what you feel) | 1,7k | Leon is stuck at the airport. At least he gets a nice phone call with Piers.

incentive to stay alive | 1,0k |  "Hey, Nivans, wake up,” he tried, but there was no answer, and he couldn’t help but let the worry in his voice. “Piers. Don’t you dare die on me. Chris would kill me if I let anything happen to his best sniper.”

blanket hog Leon | 880w | Grumbling, Piers turned around, and as he’d expected Leon was cozily wrapped in at least four blankets, leaving nothing for Piers, who was currently freezing his ass off.

I give you all I am | 2,0k | “Leon?” Piers approached in quick steps, watching recognition flicker in Leon’s eyes as he lowered his own weapon too. Leon was slumped against the wall, hunched over and holding his side, and there was something feverish about his eyes. Yet as soon as he realized it was Piers he gave a shaky grin, even if that was all he managed.

why are the gorgeous ones always taken | 810w | Piers blinked his eyes open slowly, expression scrunched up, and it took a long moment before he managed to actually focus his gaze on Leon’s face. When he did, a smile immediately bloomed on his face, and he even tilted his head a little. “Have I died and gone to heaven?” he croaked out, his voice rough from lack of use.

still intact | 1,1k | It took a week before the level of painkillers was correct and Piers woke up with a gasp instead of a scream. And the first thing he asked was for someone to kill him.

of guns and ...guns | 270w | Leon likes the way Piers handles his rifle. There’s drool involved.

always fashionable | 540w | Apparently having a crush on the well-dressed, professional Leon translated into being absolutely fucking in love with the sleep-mussed and squinty Leon.

misplaced phones and revelations | 660w | Chris finds Piers’ phone. Which turns out to be Leon’s phone. The two turn out to be dating. Chris feels kind of blind.

yee-haw! | 1,0k | Leon rides Piers. Wearing a cowboy hat.

you’re cute when you’re angry | 620w | When he’s stressed, Piers washes the dishes. Angrily.  

want to drink (with) you | 1,1k | Piers is an embarrassing drunk. Leon loves him anyway. 

and each one of us is a path somewhere | 22,2k | Piers gets thrown twenty years back in time. Into Raccoon City, 1998. He’d heard about what Leon went through that night, but he never thought he’d have to actually experience it himself. Together with bright eyed rookie Leon.

hold me close | 560w | Leon falls asleep against Piers’ shoulder. 

goatee man | 890w | Piers thinks growing a beard might make him look more manly. 

promises kept | 2,9k | Leon finds out Piers isn't dead after all. He's just locked up in a BSAA research facility with no one allowed in to visit.

stay with me tonight (stay until the end of life) | 2,2k | Leon doesn’t know I’m contacting you, but a fair warning, because I’m worried. He was found unconscious on the bathroom floor at 10AM. They took him to the hospital, but he checked himself out. Look after him, okay?  

4am | 760w | “What can I say,” Piers grinned against Leon’s neck, “I was dreaming of you.” He had no reservations about moving his hips, letting Leon feel just how nice the dream had been.

caffeinated | 550w | Someone gives Piers coffee. Leon knows what to do with that excess energy.

and i'm you and you're me | 7,0k | The one wherein Leon and Piers accidentally swap bodies.

girls’ day in bed | 780w | Piers and Leon wake up one morning with boobs and other assorted lady parts. It’s a fun day. (Spoiler alert: they have a lot of sex.)

worlds apart | 3,2k | Krauser kidnaps Piers to lure Leon to him. (feat. past Krauser/Leon)

not again | 530w | Watching Piers’ mutation brings Leon some very unfortunate flashbacks. (feat. past Krauser/Leon)

gorgeous | 300w | Piers calls Leon gorgeous.

the most comfortable pillow | 350w | Leon falls asleep with his head on Piers’ lap.

beautiful | 840w | Even after losing an arm and ruining half of his face, Piers is the most beautiful thing to Leon.

as seen in adult films | 580w | Piers doesn’t know one damn thing about dishwashers. He volunteers to fix one anyway.

never letting go | 260w | Leon is goddamn comfortable right here. He isn’t going to move a single inch.

nose kisses | 390w | Piers is cute when he’s cranky. Just ask Leon.

no other half could ever make me whole | 6,3k | The one wherein they get a scare and there's a proposal.

the luxury of being held | 690w | The fabric of Piers’ hoodie is the perfect place to hide. (feat. Theo’s amazing art)

just one step from heaven, one step from paradise | 2,7k | The one wherein Piers makes sure Leon doesn’t freeze, and they enjoy their vacation.

all is fair in war, love and Mario Kart | 600w | Piers sucks at Mario Kart.

Chris/Leon

if i never see all my dreams come true, the one that mattered the most was you | 5,9k |  Chris enlists Leon’s help on a mission as a clever ruse to make the man take a break he so obviously needs. 

and I don't want to know how slow the time must flow | 11,1k | Chris and Leon try to fight their way out of a castle and feelings take over.

you are my heart, you are my home | 3,2k | Chris is sick, and he’s being extra dramatic about it.

from the gates of longing | 5,5k | Chris volunteers to take Leon home, but ends up getting a lot more than he bargained for.

how to accidentally get adopted - a guide by Piers Nivans | 2,3k | Piers accidentally keeps calling Chris dad, and Chris and Leon sort of unofficially adopt him.

right here by your side | 1,9k | When Chris shows up to check up on Leon, four days into his self-imposed flu-exile, at first Leon wants to just throw him out. But then it turns into a relationship-building moment and suddenly he can’t mind all that much.

about time | 1,8k | Leon is freezing. Chris warms him up.

yet you'll lose yourself in me | 3,3k | The one wherein Chris is generously proportioned and Leon kind of loves it. (whispers: size kink)

beyond tomorrow | 1,7k | Leon ends up in the hospital after a mission, Chris hurries to see if he’s okay. Claire is already there.

look at those heart-eyes | 180w | Quickly Chris shook his head, reluctantly pulling his attention away from Leon.

there’s a cat in the sink | 220w | “There’s a cat in the sink, and we don’t own a cat.”

from the future | 300w | It’s 1998 and Leon comes face to face with himself, from 2017.

surprise redfield | 250w | “Don’t worry,“ Chris says, nonchalantly as if it’s an everyday occurrence that he’s standing in Leon’s kitchen.

need this feeling to last (there's no denying) | 2,4k | “Why don’t you fuck me yourself, you coward!“

something solid, something good | 520w | Chris was so warm, and that together with all the glorious skin-on-skin contact made Leon happily sink back into the embrace.

come closer | 520w | Leon is done with Chris being so careful around him.  

your arms around me | 690w | Chris woke up cold and alone.  

a needed break | 440w | Sometimes Chris got so single-mindedly stuck on a task that he forgot everything around himself.

the iron maiden | 820w | Suddenly it was hard to breathe, like he couldn’t fill his lungs with oxygen no matter how much he tried, to the point that his vision started to get blurry. 

robin hood: chris in tights | 480w | Chris’ face was twisted into a theatrical grimace as he tugged a little on the green tights we was wearing. They were like painted on and although he didn’t really have body issues in general, he couldn’t help but feel self-conscious about it.

luckless romance | 4,0k | Leon and Chris turn a drunken argument into something better. (Please note: The link takes you to the last part of six.) 

take my hand | 920w | The worst part, by far, is not seeing anything. There are sounds, people talking like he isn’t even in the room, machines beeping and doors opening, quick busy steps against the floor.

let me take you to the edge of the stars and back again | 3,0k | Chris takes his sweet, sweet time before he gives Leon what he wants.

I’m going to seduce you | 1,1k | Jesus Christ, they’d had sex. Leon groaned again, this time less because of the headache and more because he felt so unbearably dumb. He’d probably had the best sex of his life, and he couldn’t remember it.

a little help | 430w | Those fucking idiots, Claire thought for the millionth time, as she watched her brother give the biggest dumbest heart eyes at Leon, who was blissfully oblivious about everything going on around him.

the way to anyone’s heart (the answer is food, good food)  | 2,4k | Chris asks Leon to teach him how to cook. (Spoiler: Leon doesn't know how.)

oh the horror | 270w | “I seriously don’t understand why you want to watch this shit,” Leon groaned, pressing his face into Chris’ chest.

jealousy | 670w | Chris swallowed hard, downed the last of his beer, and took the leap. “I’m jealous okay.”

twist me up | 510w | Sure Chris had always known that Leon was flexible. Sure he had seen him even do these weird-ass yoga poses more than once. There was nothing new to it.

meet the parents | 600w | Leon brings Chris home for Christmas.

precious cargo | 930w | Chris lugs Leon around like luggage.

it's always been you | 870w  | The hardest thing for Leon was when someone he cared about was in danger but there was nothing he could do about it. And then Chris fell into a ravine.

come away with me (to another world) | 2,0k | Leon finally gets a vacation.

first time sucker | 930w | “I don’t know, because it’s fun?” Leon said. “I promise you, you’re missing out.”

read my scars | 1,9k | Chris learns about Leon's scars.

battered and bruised | 650w | Ignoring the bruises and scrapes he had, Chris turned around and sprinted towards Leon, gritting his teeth against the strain moving put on his side.

a different kind of proposal | 500w | “If you keep fucking me this good,“ he breathed out, unsure if Chris even heard the words, “I’ll have to marry you.“

welcome home | 370w | The door had barely fallen shut behind Chris when Leon was in his personal space, grabbing him by the lapels of the trench coat he was wearing so he could pull him in close for a kiss.

I’d always choose you | 280w | Ada was something they didn’t talk about. When someone, anyone, brought her up Leon clammed up and changed the subject. And Chris had tried to be understanding, had tried to be patient, had tried his very best to respect Leon’s boundaries with this. But Chris was only human.

fuck or die | 1,7k | Chris gets hit by a weird plant, and his hard-on just will not go down. Until Leon takes matters into his hands.

i need a hug | 470w | “I think,“ Leon sighed, but then it was like all fight bled from him and he slumped a little forward. “I need a hug.“

oh no there’s only one bed | 990w | “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s just one night. I’m sure you’ve slept with worse persons than me.”

the butt that became a pillow | 420w | Chris falls asleep on Leon.

like father like son | 2,8k | Leon finds out he has a son.

monster magnet | 1,1k | Leon didn’t know when it had become something he recognized so easily. When had it become so normal for mutated creatures to look at him with such unadulterated lust.

please be okay | 620w | Leon faints from sheer exhaustion. 

like father like... grandson? | 4,1k | Liam proposes to a girl but ends up with Piers anyway. Chris and Leon are the friendly neighborhood grandpas. Their grandson is adorable, and Leon thinks he takes after him. Obviously. (feat. Piers/OMC)

black lace | 790w | Chris gets to come home to Leon in thigh high black lacy stockings and matching lingerie, instantly sending Chris’ brains into an overdrive.

at least let me help | 790w | Leon opens the door an inch, Chris uses the given opportunity to slam it wide open. Metaphorically speaking.

bridal style | 200w | Leon refuses the medical check up. So Chris carries him.

dance with me | 1,0k | Wedding planning with two schmoopy idiots in love.

drunken cravings | 480w | Chris and Leon are drunk, hungry, and incapable of cooking.

blow me | 650w | Chris gets his brains sucked out through his dick.

Claire knows best | 610w | Chris tries to set Leon up with Claire. Then Claire does set Leon up with Chris.

chase the demons away | 940w | Chris struggles with nightmares, Leon is there to hold him through them.

dance me to the end of love | 550w | Leon struggles to learn to dance.

Piers/Leon, Chris/Leon

fate changed (we keep loving as if the story isn't over yet) | 34,3k | In hindsight, Leon knew the second he opened the door and saw Chris standing there, dressed in his service uniform, mouth pinched to a grim line and unable to meet Leon’s gaze straight. There was only one logical reason for it, only one way to explain why he was standing there like he would rather be anywhere else, and Leon almost slammed the door right in his face. --  Or the one wherein no one really knows how to handle their grief, but somehow life goes on anyway. (I’m still so proud of this one negl)

Chris/Leon/Krauser

hearts beating fast (let's make this moment last) | 5,7k | Chris gets invited in for a threesome. The clever thing would’ve been to refuse, knowing his unrequited, helpless feelings. But then again, he’s just a man.

OT3

double the fun | 3,1k | Truthfully, Leon hadn’t thought his day could get this much better. Everything had gone wrong from the second he’d woken up and he’d already written the day off entirely, until the moment Chris had looked him dead in the eye and asked “How do you feel about two at once?”

of cuddles and blanket forts | 620w | Piers and Leon build a blanket fort. Chris would think they’re idiots, but they might actually be kind of brilliant.

hair straightener or waffle iron? | 310w | Chris and Piers break Leon’s hair straightener.

the last piece of the puzzle | 2,7k | The one wherein two becomes three.

not alone | 2,3k | Completely on accident, Piers and Chris happen to be there to save Leon from a tight spot. Cuddles ensue.

Krauser/Leon

drive me crazy (your eyes made me crave for this) | 2,3k | It was the best sex Krauser had ever had in his life. That’s why he kept coming back to Leon, kept saying ‘yes’ every single time the man as much as hinted that he might be up for meeting. He was getting off, and he was enjoying every second of it, and that was the extent of it. There certainly weren’t any feelings involved. None. None at all. 

enjoying the view | 200w | Krauser likes ass-watching.

carry me to bed | 440w | Slowly Leon was coming back to his senses. Sweat was cooling on his skin, the hard surface of the table underneath him starting to feel uncomfortable.  

and I lied that we would be fine | 1,1k | Leon knows he isn’t supposed to be doing this. There’s a vague recollection of something more important, something he should be focusing on, but the vast majority of his world has narrowed down onto the slick slide of their bodies, on the cheap scratchy sheets on his skin, on the sound of Krauser’s voice in his ear, and he can’t bring himself to care.

yet never enough | 1,9k | Krauser likes mirrors.

of wanting | 400w | Leon’s laughter echoed in the room as Krauser pinned him against the wall, before shutting him up with a ravenous kiss.

better with you | 590w | Despite knowing Krauser had his back, Leon was genuinely surprised when the man sat down right next to him instead of telling him to suck it up and get moving.

breakfast | 530w | Lately things had slowly begun to shift. And Leon wasn’t sure yet what was going on. Or how he felt about it.

kill me now | 900w | It was more than clear how much Krauser enjoyed their frantic attempts to kill one another, and Leon’s traitorous body shivered in response, the memory of times long gone returning like no time had passed at all.

lust that I've already spilled | 1,4k | “C’mon, Leon,” Krauser taunted, grinning as widened his stance. “This cock isn’t gonna suck itself.”

will you just look at me | 650w | Krauser refuses to do feelings.

Wesker/Chris

I am the light that shall lead you to darkness | 1,8k | In all honesty, Chris wasn’t entirely sure how he’d ended up here: a panting mess, bent over a massive wooden table with Wesker holding him down laughably easily. 

the light to drown in darkness | 2,0k | Wesker craves Chris. So Wesker takes Chris.

love-hate-(obsession?) | 470w | Wesker is a lovesick fool. If he wasn’t also a homicidal maniac, Jill would almost feel sorry for him.

[leah-halliwell92]

Daughter of Darkness

Summary: Leaving the island had been a backup plan…and a last resort. She didn’t want to leave home, but by Hera had their actions driven her to. She’d grown restless with their stares and whispers…no more. But little did she that leaving had set her on a path she could never have imagined.

Chapter 1

Previously:

“Oh it did,” Dick said laying back down, “He was beyond pissed, but I passed out from the blood loss before I could see or hear anything else.”

“She…made me chose in a way,” Bruce said quietly as he stared off avoiding any and all eye contact, “After killing the Joker, she asked me if letting him live was worth the risk of losing Dick…of losing my son.”

Chapter 2

The following morning Bruce woke with a painful grunt as the hits he took the night before made themselves known. He looked around rubbed his eyes as he remembered he’d fallen asleep next to Dick’s bed in the batcave. He went to stretch to take off the suit’s under layer and winced. 

“You should take the day off Bruce,” Dick said from place on the bed as he let out a yawn, “Those look bad.”

“The batman can take the day off I guess,” he conceded before giving dick an affectionate pat on the shoulder.

“You know they’re gonna call right?” Dick said as he adjusted the bed’s back to sit up. 

Bruce gave him a look and pulled up the grey under shirt of the suit. At Dick’s audible gasp he knew he needed an ice bath. 

“He got you bad man,” Dick said softly, “Speaking of getting...who was the girl?”

“That’s good question,” Bruce said, “And a better question is how she knew where we were at all.”

“Think she could be meta?” Dick asked with a shrug, curiosity in his voice.

“Has to be for her to not only know where we are but help us the way she did,” Bruce said making his way to the main computer.

“Hey! Don’t leave me here when I can help!” Dick called after Bruce.

The older man had to chuckle at his boy’s antics, and realized he’d be sad to see him go back to Blüdhaven. He also knew that if Dick didn’t return to said city then they’d both have Barb to deal with...and that is not something either of them need at the moment. So he saved himself a second headache and brought the bagged dagger up to where Dick is so they could at least make some basic observations on it.

“Awww and he takes pity on my crippled form,” Dick said dramatically, cracking a grin.

“Ha ha ha,” Bruce said cracking his own grin despite the joke, “We both you if you wanted to be out of that bed you’d have gotten up the second you saw me leave.”

“And risk having Alfred and Barb jump down both our throats? No way man,” the younger man said hands up in mock surrender, “I like not having a headache so soon after waking up from getting stabbed. Plus its not like she won’t yell at us anyway for the same thing.”

Bruce had to give Dick that one and said, “Might as well take advantage of this while we can then.”

Dick started out laughing before it turned into a violent coughing fit.

Bruce checked his bandages making sure nothing had been torn in that hacking fit, and to make sure Dick was ok for himself.

“I’m fine Bruce,” Dick said waving the older man away back to his chair, “Just need to remember to not laugh so hard.”

Bruce shook his head and passed Dick the dagger.

Dick took it and turned it over in his hands.

“It looks old,” he said after a moment of consideration, “And not that it is old time wise. But that this looks like it was made recently if how well the blade and hilt are when you think about usage. It doesn’t look like anything I’ve ever seen from anywhere we’ve been. If it was made on earth it has to be from either a lost culture or a culture that has yet to be re-discovered.”

Bruce nodded and took the dagger back.

“Is there any information on it?” Dick asked with a yawn. 

Bruce gave the young man a half grin, God knew how he had lived this long to raise such enigmatic boys.

“Sleep, if there is I’ll wake you,” Bruce said standing to let Dick get the rest he so desperately needs, “As for information...I’m pretty sure Alfred’s had that running before we got out of bed this morning.”

“Come one B!” Dick called out to Bruce, “At least promise me you’ll knock me out fully if Barb comes by! Please!?”

Bruce walked away chuckling as he did. He forwent going to whatever scrap of information there was on the blade and decided on taking it easy for once. Lord knew he’d need what little strength he had for when the rest of the family called.

~/~

Meanwhile...

Anna was laying on her hotel bed doing some work for the exhibit that opens the following day when the Skype screen popped up with a call.

She heaved a tired sigh at the caller ID, and thought about whether or not she should fall prey to that childish desire to not pick up. 

In the end she decided the reprimand was not worth it so answered and with a tired smile said, “Bonjour Diana.”

“Good evening Anna,” she said with an equally tired grin, “You look like you’ve taken on something.”

“As do you...Wonder Woman,” Anna replied with a playful smirk.

Diana sighed at this still not used being as in the open as she was.

“He’d have loved seeing you live Diana. There’s no need to live hung up on a memory,” Anna said treading carefully as she spoke.

To her surprise, Diana nodded and said, “I’ve lived so quietly for so long, that...”

“Being out there and showing that there is someone there to fight for them is as difficult as staying in and living that quiet life,” Anna finished for her with an understanding nod.

Diana nodded and said, “You are in Gotham for the week yes?”

“I am...and I’ve already had a run in with the Batman,” she said, a small smile appearing on her face as she thought back to those moments.

Diana’s eyes widened, “You...”

“I did not go looking for him Diana,” Anna said sharply, “I had no sooner gotten to my hotel that I’d...felt this chill in the air. It’s summer Diana and I felt as if I’d walked into solid ice. No it’s not the room’s AC, I checked it, this felt as if...as if someone was going to die.”

“A premonition?” Diana asked incredulously.

“Not that but...a feeling, then the Shades arrived all referring to three souls and one they hungered for,” Anna explained as she thought back.

“What happened?” Diana asked both curious and worried.

“As we do as amazons...I went to investigate,” Anna said with a sigh, “I was lead to a warehouse on the pier. Diana I swear I heard the laughing from outside.”

Diana closed her eyes and shivered. It had been years since she’s come across a foe that enjoyed killing enough to find it laughable.

“Diana...it’s been an age since I had come across a man who enjoyed torturing other beings as much as this one did,” Anna said wrapping her arms around herself, “He reeked of death Diana. The Shades that were with me flew about the batman and his partner as one would expect of such warriors but nothing compared to how they reacted to who held them hostage.”

“I’ve heard that one of the most known criminals calls himself the Joker,” Diana said evenly, “An unconventional criminal, with a very long trail of deaths behind him.”

Anna nodded at this somberly and said, “Psychopath Diana, he was a psychopath. It was clear he had tortured both men but for how long I do not know.”

Diana gasped as Anna went into detail of what she’d seen, how the Joker behaved and how he clearly enjoyed breaking the Batman from the inside out.

“What happened next Anna?” Diana asked when Anna went silent, “Adanna!”

Anna looked up at Diana and heaved a sigh and said, “I was not going to ferry the young man’s soul across the river Diana.”

Diana’s eyes widened at the implication.

“I...Killed the Joker,” Anna said simply, “The mental and emotional connection between him and the Batman was one I had not seen between foes in some time. And to a degree I understand why hesitate in killing him even in self-defense.”

“Would he not have killed the Joker?” Diana asked, “I’ve heard rumors that he has a tendency not to kill those he captures.”

Anna nodded at this and said, “That’s just it! It felt different when it came to the Joker for some reason. He acted as if I’d severed a tether he needed present to keep going no matter how much damage it made.”

“We’ve all had those Ann,” Diana said with a sigh.

Anna wanted to say how her’s was thrown in her face everyday and how it haunted her to this day but held her tongue. That was not a conversation to have though Skype. And not a topic she wanted to touch on while she was still reeling from her encounter with the Joker and the Dark Knight of Gotham. 

So instead she settled on, “I killed him Diana...and whilst I do not enjoy taking life, this one I had no qualms in taking.”

Diana cocked a brow at her her righteous morals about to reprimand her sister when Anna cut in.

“Don’t even think about it,” Anna said eyes darkening, “He would have killed that boy, and then no one in Gotham would have been spared the Batman’s wrath. There is a heart under that armor Diana, I felt it. He would have suffered greatly for the loss and worse being that the Joker would have bathed in the blood spilled and pain he’d caused. So do not lecture me on the righteousness of justice.”

Before Diana could say more Anna hung up and closed her laptop with a shake of her head. 

“You have seen so much and have grown so much Diana...but you still need to learn that sometimes death is inevitable,” she said out loud before turning in for the night.

Tomorrow is the banquet presenting the exhibition, the following day the opening, and then maybe she could rest...if the city let her that is. 

Tag List:

@flanagirl​ @xbreezymeadowsx​ @enigmatic-ravenna​ @alisinchainmail​ @disneymarina​ @thebeautyofdisorder​ @fandomgalcentral​ @wonderbat-official​ @lovelyyroseeee​

[merakilyy]

Hear me out: Wangxian canon divergence before Qiongqi Path where Jin Guangshan decides to wipe out the Wen Remnants anyway and drags Wei Wuxian to Jinlintai as a prisoner of war without telling anyone. Wen Ning and Wen Qing go missing and people just assume that they died because let’s face it. A group of half-starved old non-cultivators didn’t stand a chance against Lanling Jin.

Since no one knows that he has Wei Wuxian, he has full reign to torture and “experiment” on Wei Wuxian however he wants and Jin Guangshan gets REALLY creative. Especially with water and knives. Now, Jin Guangshan is too slimy to do any of this himself, but Jin Zixun is more than happy to watch Wei Wuxian scream.

Shijie and Jiang Cheng, who think Wei Wuxian is dead, are quietly horrified and mourn their brother but there really isn’t anything they can do. Jin Zixuan disagrees with his father morally, and because it upsets Yanli, but he’s a bit spineless and doesn’t look into the matter further. 

Jin Guangyao was still plotting to kill his dad but before he can carry out his plan, he accidentally finds Wei Wuxian. (Why is Jin Guangyao in the dungeons? ....reasons.) Jin Guangyao isn’t a total psychopath like his dad and is horrified by the state Wei Wuxian is in. Almost completely dissociated, barely conscious, and lying in his own filth with festering open wounds that look suspiciously like canine bite marks. The room is so damp and repugnant that Jin Guangyao thinks Wei Wuxian is dead at first before he finds a weak pulse. Jin Guangyao may not have liked Wei Wuxian, but no one deserves what Jin Guangshan and Jin Zixun were doing to him. 

So what can he do but run to Lan Xichen? Nie Mingjue still doesn’t trust him, and hates Wei Wuxian for his demonic cultivation, but Er-Ge has always been the voice of reason and empathy. 

Meanwhile, while A-Yao is sharing his horrifying new discovery with Xichen, Wangji is wandering around Yiling grieving his soulmate nighthunting when he hears a little voice calling for “Rich-gege!” and then A-Yuan is wrapped around his leg. Wen Ning comes running after A-Yuan before he realizes that he’s been caught by Hanguang-jun. Luckily, Wangji just wants to understand what happened in the Burial Mounds before Wei Ying died and he’s willing to protect Wen Qing, Wen Ning, and A-Yuan so they all go back to Cloud Recesses.

So our twin jades reconvene in Cloud Recesses. They can’t exactly march up to Jin Guangshan and demand him to share the contents of his dungeons, and Jin Guangyao can’t break Wei Wuxian out on his own, but Jiang Yanli is also in Carp Tower and she loves her brother.

Yanli is horrified when she finds out what’s been happening to her brother in her own home. She informs Jin Zixuan and Jiang Cheng and they work with Wen Ning and Wen Qing and our twin jades and Jin Guangyao. Stuff happens, Wen Qing is good with poisons, Jin Guangshan has an unfortunate heart attack, Jin Guangyao suddenly uncovers a plot by Jin Zixun to depose Jin Zixuan, and Jin Zixuan grows a spine. Wangji and Yanli manage to rescue Wei Wuxian so Jiang Cheng can bring him back to Lotus Pier. Wangji goes with Wei Wuxian because that’s his husband in case any remaining Jin cultivators loyal to Jin Guangshan are still around.

It’s touch and go for a while because they find that Wei Wuxian has no golden core??? Which mean standard cultivator treatments don’t work as well but they can’t exactly ask Wei Wuxian either. After a few days, Wei Wuxian regains consciousness but Lotus Pier is right on the lake and Wei Wuxian is terrified of water now and is absolutely hysterical. Jiang Cheng knocks Wei Wuxian out and since they can’t stay in Lotus Pier, Wangji takes Wei Wuxian to Cloud Recesses where Wen Qing treats Wei Wuxian. Wangji asks Wen Qing if she knows what happened to Wei Ying’s golden core but she tells Wangji to ask Wei Ying himself after he wakes up.

Wei Wuxian mostly recovers physically, even if he has a lot more ugly scars and some of his fingers are permanently crooked now and his joints sometimes stop working when it gets cold. But psychologically, they find that Wei Wuxian has become claustrophobic, is scared of the dark, is terrified of deep vats of water, his cynophobia has gotten worse, and flinches whenever he sees a sword.

So Wangji, having failed Wei Wuxian once already, does everything he possibly can to make Wei Ying comfortable and help him work through his trauma and nightmares even when Wei Ying is being difficult. Xichen lets this happen and encourages it because he knows Wangji’s devotion is absolute. Not even Lan Qiren can begrudge his nephews because as much as he dislikes Wei Wuxian, no one deserved what Jin Guangshan put him through. And Wei Wuxian did help them win against Wen Ruohan so they kind of owe him.

Wei Ying also reconciles with Yanli and Jiang Cheng and even mostly forgives Jin Zixuan for making Shijie cry because he’s too tired to keep holding grudges when all he wants is to grow potatoes in Cloud Recesses and fall asleep in Lan Zhan’s arms every night.

Eventually, Wei Ying and Lan Zhan have a conversation about Feelings because Wen Qing threatens to throw them both off a cliff if they don’t and acknowledge they’re both desperately in love with each other and get married surrounded by all their family including the Wens and officially adopt A-Yuan. 

Jin Guangyao doesn’t want Jin Zixuan dead anymore because Jin Zixuan is nice to him and makes sure everyone respects all of his hard work and doesn’t let anyone else mock him for being the son of a prostitute. 

Nie Huaisang, for his part, knows everything happening at any given moment so while Wei Wuxian is recovering in Cloud Recesses, Nie Huaisang was conveniently commissioned performances and books detailing the heroism of Wei Wuxian during the Sunshot Campaign, how Wei Wuxian justly protected the weak Wen Remnants from Jin Guangshan’s tyranny, and how all he wanted in life was to peacefully farmer turnips and marry Lan Wangji. It’s not exactly accurate, but it rehabilitates Wei Ying’s reputations so Nie Huaisang gets to live.

[afternoonteawithme]

The Cold and the Emperor’s Smile - (Part 5)

Fandom: MZDS / Pairing: WangXian / Rating: G / WC: 3928 

(read it on AO3)

The rain had long since stopped coming down, but the sky full of heavy clouds left behind by the morning’s storms kept the forest floor far below in almost unbroken shadow. 

It seemed strangely inappropriate to Jin Ling, when he and the others finally stepped out of the trees and saw Wei Wuxian, that the sun had chosen to light this particular section of the forest with the single stray sunbeam it had edged out through a crack in the grey sky. The piercingly clear light was magnified as it reflected off the wet tangles of long grass covering the ground until even the air stabbed at Jin Ling’s eyes as he tried to look through it to the far end of the clearing, where thick, smokey shadows circled around and around Wei Wuxian, as if rejecting the sun’s attempt at reaching him. 

He hadn’t seen them yet, Jin Ling didn’t think. He was half-turned away, and all his focus seemed to be on the black void of the flute at his lips, and the solid mass of...something hovering in the air in front of him.

On some level, Jin Ling had always known that Wei Wuxian had to be holding back. The talismans and tricks he pulled out when he came along with the juniors on their night hunts were always ingenious, and often radical enough that they’d all privately decided to never tell Lan Qiren about them, but they weren’t enough to have put that edge of fear Jin Ling still sometimes saw in the older cultivator’s eyes when they looked at Wei Wuxian. 

They also weren’t enough to account for the more horrific of the jumbled and unclear memories Jin Ling still had of the night his uncle, Jin Guangyao, had died.  

But as all he’d seen since then had been those talismans and tricks, and as Wei Wuxian had eased, charmed, and demanded his way into Jin Ling’s closest circle of family, Jin Ling had come to see him as simply his clever, entertaining, and often foolish uncle.

There wasn’t any sign of the fool in the man in front of him today, though. 

It wasn’t unusual to see him in dark robes - he rarely wore anything else unless he was doing something official for the Gusu Lan Sect - but they had never suited him quite as well as they did now. The inky fabric whipped around his body as though he stood in the center of a slow-moving storm, though there wasn’t even a breeze to stir the leaves of the trees surrounding the clearing. The ends of the shockingly vivid red ribbon he’d used to tie back his hair floated around his face almost as if they were alive.  

The song he played wasn’t one Jin Ling had heard before. It was slow and almost sleepy, but there was something in the notes that made icy shivers run up the back of Jin Ling’s neck. 

This was the notorious, dangerous, heretic, Yiling Patriarch.

The shadows surrounding Wei Wuxian never stopped moving. Thick eddies of the mist coalesced, forming into opaque ropes that slowly slithered into the mass hovering in the air, and then slithered out again to dissipate into smoke. The mass was round, but it narrowed at the top and bottom to form blunt points - more than a ball, it looked very much like a fat spool of black rope. 

Something about it gave Jin Ling a very, very bad feeling. 

He glanced over at his friends and saw Lan Jingyi and Ouyang Zizhen staring wide-eyed at the scene in front of them, with expressions that told him they were as taken aback as he was. But when he glanced to his other side, to Lan Sizhui, he saw only focused calm on his friend’s face. 

He wasn’t even watching Wei Wuxian, Jin Ling suddenly realized. Instead, his gaze was fixed on Hanguang Jun’s broad shoulders as the man stood at the very edge of the shadows in front of them. 

When Jin Ling’s own eyes shifted to Jiang Cheng’s equally sturdy back, as he stood beside Hanguang Jun, he immediately felt the uneasy mix of panic and uncertainty in his stomach ease. Nothing too bad, nothing irreversible could happen with Jiang Cheng here. 

Calmer again, he turned back towards Wei Wuxian, and couldn’t hold back his gasp when the ropes of black mist shifted just enough to expose what was inside the hovering mass. 

They’d found Sect Leader Yao. 

“That idiot. What has he done?” From the way Jiang Cheng’s words burst out of his mouth, he must have caught a glimpse of the bright red face sticking out the bottom of the spool, too. “Stop now, Wei Wuxian,” he called out urgently. “Put him down.”

Wei Wuxian simply carried on playing, as though he hadn’t heard anything. 

With a muttered oath, Jiang Cheng tried to walk through the shadows towards him but had to stop when the mist, though it didn’t look any more solid than the thick smoke it resembled, blocked his way forward. He unsheathed Sandu, and slashed it through the air. The shadows avoided the edge of his blade, but the holes left behind filled in almost as quickly as they had formed. 

Still, something about it seemed to catch Wei Wuxian’s attention - enough that he pulled Chenqing away from his lips, and turned his head towards them. He blinked, squinting a little through the suddenly still mist, as though he’d just woken up or as if he couldn’t quite see past the shadows into the sunlight. Then his eyes landed on the white-robed figure of Hanguang Jun, and the sudden wide, joy-filled smile that spread across his face was like the sun appearing from behind the clouds. With a laugh, the hand holding Chenqing dropped to his side, and he almost bounced as he started across the clearing towards them. 

Watching him come closer, through mist that slipped out of his way like the shadow it was, instead of the solid wall it had been to Jiang Cheng, Jin Ling noticed that the straight path Wei Wuxian had been taking towards Hanguang Jun was a little wobbly, and he wasn’t entirely steady on his feet

He was drunk, after all. 

The fact that he’d still been able to do whatever it was he’d been doing when they found him when he couldn’t even walk straight gave Jin Ling a moment of stray and - he knew - inappropriate pride. 

The edges of the mist had started to thin almost as soon as Wei Wuxian had stopped playing, so he was just about to step into sunlight when his toe caught in a knot of long grass and he started to go down. Instead of catching himself, he kicked off the ground so he half leaped, half fell forward, and landed with a thump against Hanguang Jun’s chest.  

Taken by surprise, Hanguang Jun staggered back a half step before catching himself. He stood, hands hovering in the air, as he stared down at the man with his face pressed into the front of his robes. 

Then Wei Wuxian wrapped his arms around Hanguang Jun’s waist to hold himself steady, tilted back his head, and grinned up at him. His smile was so bright and happy that even Jin Ling could almost forget that Sect Leader Yao hung upside down and possibly dead in the air behind him. 

“Hi, Lan Zhan.”

Hanguang Jun’s lips parted slightly, and he drew in a soft, quick breath. The expression on his face gentled into something that made Jin Ling flush, and hastily avert his eyes. 

As he turned his head away, he saw Lan Jingyi staring pointedly up into the sky, while Lan Sizhui smiled gently down at the ground. Only Ouyang Zizhen hadn’t bothered to look away, his eyes bright as he beamed happily at the two men. 

“Get off him, Wei Wuxian. This is so not the time.” Jiang Cheng must have been made from stronger stuff, as his voice was all irritation. 

“Oh, Jiang Cheng.” Wei Wuxian pushed himself up more securely onto his feet - though he still let Hanguang Jun support most of his weight - as he turned to beam at his brother. “You’re here too?” 

“Where else would I be, with you busy making another giant mess I’m going to have to clean up? How do you expect to come back from killing Sect Leader Yao?”

“I wasn’t going to kill him. I was just scaring him a little.” 

“That’s worse. At least if he’s dead he can’t talk. Did you think about what would happen once the rest of the conference hears that you’re back to using Chenqing against other sect leaders? They’ll be calling for your execution. Again.”

“I’m not an idiot, it’s all under control. Stop panicking, Jiang Cheng.” 

Jiang Cheng let out a sound very much like a hiss. “How. How is this under control?”

Wei Wuxian sighed, loudly, and settled more comfortably against Hanguang Jun. “This is all part of my plan. First, I snuck up on him so he didn’t see me before I knocked him out. And then when I’m done I’ll put him back where I found him and sneak away before he wakes up. He’ll just think he fell asleep and had a bad dream.” 

“So he didn’t see you at all while you were doing-” Jiang Cheng waved his hand loosely at the remnants of the black shadows. “This to him?”

“Of course he did. How else was I supposed to make sure he thinks of his nightmares whenever he sees me from now on?”

“You think he’ll believe he just fell asleep, in the middle of the forest, halfway back to Gusu, and happened to dream about being tortured by you? Just like that?” 

“Why not?”

Jiang Cheng let out a long breath. “That’s the stupidest plan you’ve ever come up with.”

Wei Wuxian bridled, and pulled away from Hanguang Jun enough to stand balanced, a little precariously, on his own legs. “Like your plans are any better?”

“At least I wouldn’t think something that stupid would work.” 

“Sure. So not like that time you thought you could get your parents to stop arguing over who was responsible for you breaking your arm if you pretended to run away and almost die, and then when your boat flipped Shijie and I almost drowned because we didn’t know you weren’t in it, and then your mom kicked your dad out of Lotus Pier for a month because she thought that was his fault too?”

A slight flush rose high on Jiang Cheng’s cheekbones, but his chin jutted up. “This is stupider.”

“Ah, excuse me Senior Wei, Sect Leader Jiang. Maybe we should put Sect Leader Yao down first? He seems to be waking up.”

At Lan Sizhui’s words every head in the clearing, except for Wei Wuxian’s, whipped around to face Sect Leader Yao. He was waking up, stirring beneath the dissipating shadow ropes, and Jin Ling found himself both relieved and disappointed at the proof that Wei Wuxian hadn’t killed him. 

Wei Wuxian’s head had turned in the opposite direction, instead. “A-Yuan, you’re here? Oh, and look, you brought the others. When did you all get here?”

Lan Sizhui smiled affectionately at Wei Wuxian, unoffended. “We’ve been here all along, Senior Wei.” 

“Really? And there’s Jin Ling too. Hello, Jin Ling!” Wei Wuxian waved at his nephew, and then turned back to Hanguang Jun. “The conference is over for the day?” 

Hanguang Jun shook his head. 

“No?” Wei Wuxian’s smile turned a little sly, and he lifted his arms to wrap them around Hanguang Juni’s neck. “So you all snuck out to come play with me?”

Hanguang Jun hesitated, and then, eyes fixed on the face laughing up at him, managed another quick shake of his head.

“Of course we didn’t.” Jiang Cheng interjected, angrily. “We’re here to try and keep you from going too far for us to save you, so put Sect Leader Yao down before he falls and dies anyway.”

Wei Wuxian wrinkled his nose, but otherwise ignored Jiang Cheng’s demand. “I’m glad you came anyway, Lan Zhan. I told you I needed to make him afraid of me again, didn’t I?” He grinned. “This will do it.”

“Mmn.” 

“Don’t agree with him. This is a mess and you know it.”

With a deep, exaggerated sigh, Wei Wuxian pulled away and turned to face Jiang Cheng. “You. Are being rude, Jiang Cheng.”

Jiang Cheng had been scowling, but his expression turned wary when Wei Wuxian swaggered the few steps towards him, tugging Hanguang Jun along behind him by one wrist. "If I am, it's because you left me no choice."  

“We haven’t seen each other in months, and all you can talk about is the trouble you see me as.” Standing in front of his brother now, Wei Wuxian jabbed a finger pointedly into his chest. “I’ve been so sick. I felt terrible, and you didn’t even sneak in to see me. Where was my soup?”

Jiang Cheng looked even more shocked at Wei Wuxian’s words than he had when he’d been poked. “I...what?”

Wei Wuxian sniffed. “Clearly, I’m no longer important to you.” 

Shooting a questioning look at Hanguang Jun’s unreadable expression, as if he might see something there that would explain what was going on, Jiang Cheng backed up a step. “I didn’t…that’s beside the point.” 

“Is it?” Wei Wuxian stepped in close again. “Am I no longer your brother?”

“No, that’s not…I mean, of course…” Jiang Cheng took another half step back, then seemed to remember himself. He scowled, and then his own hand shot up and he pointed at where Sect Leader Yao still hung suspended in the air. “How am I supposed to talk to you when that is still just hanging there?” 

“So your own brother is less important to you than Sect Leader Yao?” 

“Senior Wei, I do think this is a very important conversation, but maybe you should set Sect Leader Yao down first?” Lan Sizhui interjected, his eyes on the now transluscent ropes that seemed ready to evaporate at any moment. 

“Fine, fine.” With an exasperated sigh, Wei Wuxian pulled out his flute from where he’d tucked it into the belt at his waist and put it to his lips. The music was different this time, faster, almost brisk, and without the eerie edge it had held earlier, but the mist responded to it. The last of the ropes holding Sect Leader Yao dispersed and he began to flop down towards the ground. 

With a gasp, the four younger occupants of the clearing darted towards the falling man – which proved to be unnecessary, as instead of dropping him, the very last traces of black shadow held Sect Leader Yao up long enough to drift him towards the ground and drop him down, relatively gently, at the base of one of the wide, old trees. 

“There.” Carelessly hooking the flute back at his waist, Wei Wuxian shot a triumphant look at Jiang Cheng. “Happy now?” 

“How could I be happy? I’m going to be cleaning this up for years, if they don’t call for your death before I get the chance to do anything.” 

“Oh, now you’re worried about me. When you never even visit.”

At the other end of the clearing, the little jolt of his landing had been enough to fully wake Sect Leader Yao. He stirred, pushing himself up with one arm and blinking at the others.

“Sect Leader Jin? Hanguang Jun? What’s going on?” 

“Look at what you did! How do you expect to come back from this?” Jiang Cheng jabbed a finger towards Sect Leader Yao, though he didn’t bother to look in his direction.  “How is whether I visited you important right now?”

Wei Wuxian stumbled back a step, though whether because of Jiang Cheng’s words, or simply because he lost his balance, Jin Ling couldn’t say. “How is that important? ”

Sect Leader Yao had pulled himself back up to his feet, and was rubbing at his forehead as he turned to the person standing closest to him, who happened to be Lan Jingyi. “What happened to me?”

“Ah-” Lan Jingyi, wide-eyed with uncertain panic, looked helplessly back at the others. 

“It’s nothing, Sect Leader Yao.” Wei Wuxian called out, still glaring angrily at his brother. “You just had a bad dream. It’s because you were being such a self-involved ass, especially to Jin Ling, but to everyone else too.” 

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes to the sky. “You always take things too far.” 

“I didn’t kill him, did I? And I didn’t call up any actual spirts or corpses to haunt him, even though there’s more than a couple following him around just waiting their chance. They really don’t like him.” He paused, evidently thinking over his words. “Maybe I shouldn’t have stopped them.” He shrugged, and the new smile that spread over his face had an edge of dark amusement. “If he doesn’t get any better we can always let them loose. They have plans for him.”

Sect Leader Yao, still dazed, staggered a half step away from the tree as he looked from face to face. When his eyes happened to meet Wei Wuxian's, he jerked back. “You- you- what did you do to me?” 

“Nothing, nothing. I told you, it was all just a dream.” Wei Wuxian waved a hand dismissively through the air. 

“I told you it wasn’t going to work.” Jiang Cheng muttered.

Wei Wuxian rounded on him, almost losing his balance before catching himself with Hanguang Jun’s arm. “It won’t if you keep saying stuff like that where he can hear you. And anyway, this is all your fault to begin with, so you should stop being so grouchy.”

“My fault?” Jiang Cheng’s eyes widened. “Grouchy?”

“You barely talk to me, even when I know you want to. And I was clearly already sick yesterday and you just happily went back to your own rooms after the conference.” He jabbed another finger at Jiang Cheng, who retreated. “No matter what else is between us, we both know Shijie would have been disappointed that you didn’t come see me.” 

Quick anger flared in Jiang Cheng’s eyes. “Don’t bring her into this.” 

Wei Wuxian threw his arms wildly into the air. “I will. I will bring her into this. Because no matter what else was happening you know she would have insisted on coming if either one of us was sick, and she isn’t here, so you have to take her place. We’re brothers. You said so, so you’re supposed to sneak in the way you always did, and you’re supposed to. Bring. Me. Soup.” He punctuated each of the last words with a new finger poke into Jiang Cheng’s chest. “And even though you’re always annoyingly healthy, if I heard you were sick I’d sneak in and make you soup, too.” 

So shocked he forgot to be angry, Jiang Cheng angled his head. “Any soup you made wouldn’t be good for a sick person to eat.” 

"Enough!" Sect Leader Yao yelled. He hadn't stopped trying to speak, though no one had been paying him any attention. “I demand immediate answers. What happened to me?” 

Without taking his eyes off Jiang Cheng, Wei Wuxian reached behind him and pulled Bichen from the sheath at Hanguang Jun’s waist. He turned, and before anyone else in the clearing could do any more than suck in a shocked breath, sent the blade whistling through the air to pierce the padded shoulder of Sect Leader Yao’s robes, and the tree behind his head.

“Now.” Wei Wuxian told Sect Leader Yao as he dusted his palms together. “Please just stay over there and be quiet. We’re in the middle of something that doesn’t concern you.”

Sect Leader Yao stared at the hilt of the sword by his face, mouth opening and closing wordlessly. Then he turned wild eyes back to Wei Wuxian and sucked in a breath. “I demand-”

Before he could say any more, Wei Wuxian turned again, smoothly drew out Sandu from the sheath on Jiang Cheng’s belt, and sent it soaring through the air to land with a thunk in the same tree, this time piercing the padded shoulder on Sect Leader Yao’s other side. 

Sect Leader Yao gaped at the two hilts, still trembling from the impact, closely bracketing his face. Then his eyes rolled back in his head as he fainted, his dead weight ripping his robe from the swords so he slid down to land in a heap on the ground. 

Wei Wuxian studied him for a moment, then nodded in satisfaction. 

No one seemed to want to break the silence until Lan Jingyi, still staring at the swords piercing the tree above Sect Leader Yao, spoke in a tone full of admiration. “The alcohol doesn’t seem to be affecting your aim, Senior Wei.”

Wei Wuxian snorted. “It would take more than simple alcohol to mess with my aim. If I’d had a bow and some arrows I could show you something really impressive.” He hesitated, and then turned to Jin Ling. “I don’t suppose you have your bow hidden anywhere on you?”

Finally able to speak, Jiang Cheng hissed. “Wei Wuxian, this isn’t the time.”

“Fine, fine. Look, I’m tired. I don’t feel like waiting for him to wake up again. And since you didn’t like my plan, you can decide what to tell him.” Stretching, Wei Wuxian took Hanguang Jun’s arm and started leading him towards the edge of the clearing. “I am going to sleep.” 

“Sleep? Now?” Jiang Cheng wasn’t the only one staring at him with startled eyes. 

“Unlike some people, I fall asleep after I get drunk.” Wei Wuxian shot a teasing sideways look up at Hanguang Jun. “And I’m done being drunk now.” 

Obligingly, Hanguang Jun leaned down and slid an arm beneath Wei Wuxian’s legs, picking him up and holding him against his chest. “It’s fine. Sleep, Wei Ying.” 

With a delighted laugh, Wei Wuxian patted his chest, and then rested his head against his shoulder. “You’re so good to me, Lan Zhan.” He closed his eyes and just like that, was asleep. 

There was a long, humming moment of silence. Even Hanguang Jun seemed surprised at how quickly Wei Wuxian had gone under. 

Then Jiang Cheng swore and scrubbed his hands over his eyes. “Fine. It’s probably better this way, anyway.” He looked towards the two Gusu Lan Sect disciples and gestured at the heap of man and robes on the ground. “Lan Jingyi, Lan Sizhui, can you get him up and back to Cloud Recesses? Maybe we can hide him somewhere and say he never left.” He shot a look at Ouyang Zizhen, who nodded. 

“I’ll go with them. There’ll be no danger to Senior Wei as long as my father is convinced he wasn’t involved.” Ouyang Zizhen said firmly.

“Jin Ling, you should...” Jiang Cheng’s words trailed off and he turned to face the way they’d come, his mouth suddenly firming into a tense line.

Jin Ling had heard the same thing he had. Voices, and the rustling of many people moving through the forest. He turned just as the first of the other cultivators attending the conference stepped out of the trees, led by Sect Leader Nie, Sect Leader Lan, and a clearly angry Sect Leader Ouyang. 

They'd just run out of time. 

[boat-full-of-lotus-pods]

MDZS Chapter 99. “A Hatred for Life” Part 2

Scars from the Disciplinary Whip

Jin Ling shot a few furtive glances at Wei WuXian. Seeing that Jin Ling was without his dog, Wei WuXian’s soul finally returned to his body and resettled. Feeling a headache building, Wei WuXian said, “You little…… It’s so late out, what were you doing out here alone with your dog?”

Little did he know that after he, Lan WangJi, and Wen Ning had left the Lotus Pier, Jin Ling had sneakily went to look for him. Realizing that Wei WuXian had disappeared, Jin Ling had ran to his uncle—who for some unknown reason was madly grabbing everyone he saw, asking them to unsheathe some shabby, old sword—and thrown a huge tantrum at him. Pointing at his uncle’s nose, Jin Ling had blamed him for Wei WuXian’s running away, and had gotten slapped by Jiang Cheng so hard that he’d fallen to the ground. Deciding to do what he had been planning to do in the first place, Jin Ling had gone off on his own to trace after Wei WuXian’s whereabouts with Fairy, without a care for consequences. Fairy had not failed Jin Ling’s expectations at all. Trailing after Wei WuXian’s scent, she[1] had led them all the way to the Guanyin Temple. It was only until Jin Ling started knocking on the temple’s gate did Fairy notice the strong killing intent from within. She had then suddenly dashed off in another direction, barking and gnawing at her owner’s robes as warning. However, after noticing the peculiarities of the temple, Jin Ling had decided to check it out, even if Wei WuXian wasn’t there, ultimately landing himself in the hands of the enemies.

But Jin Ling would naturally never speak the truth, so he simply answered with a “Hmph”.

Bringing along a few other people, Jin GuangYao stepped into the temple’s grounds. As the temple’s gate was about to close, he turned to ask a subordinate, “Where’s the spiritual dog?”

A monk replied, “That black-furred spiritual dog was unusually fierce, biting everyone it sees. I wasn’t able to contain it and it ran away.”

Jin GuangYao said, “Find it and kill it. This spiritual dog is very intelligent. We wouldn’t want her to lure over other people.”

“Yes sir!”

The monk left with a sword in his hand and the temple’s gate closed behind him. Jin Ling was beyond stunned. “You’re really going to kill her? You gave Fairy to me!”

Instead of answering, Jin GuangYao shot back another question. “A-Ling, what are you doing all the way over here?”

Jin Ling shot a glance at Wei WuXian and hesitated in answering. Suddenly, Lan XiChen said, “Sect Leader Jin, Jin Ling is still a child.”

Jin GuangYao turned to him and said, “I know.”

Lan XiChen continued, “He’s also your nephew.”

Jin GuangYao failed to stifle a laugh. He said, “Er-ge[2], what are you thinking? Of course I know that Jin Ling is a child who’s also my nephew. What do you think I’m going to do? Kill him for being a witness?”

Lan XiChen was silent and solemn. Shaking his head, Jin GuangYao turned to Jin Ling and said, “A-Ling, you’ve heard that, right? If you start running or screaming, I might do something terrible to you. So watch yourself.”  

Jin Ling had always been close with his Youngest Uncle. In the past, Jin GuangYao had often doted on him. Even now, Jin GuangYao still had that pleasant, compassionate look on his face, but it would be near impossible for Jin Ling to ever see him with the same eyes again. Quietly, Jin Ling walked towards Wei WuXian and Lan XiChen, obediently standing by their side.

Turning to his subordinates, Jin GuangYao asked, “Has it still not been dug out? Tell the people inside to hurry up!”

A monk replied, “Yes sir!” And dashed back into the main temple with his sword in hand.

Only now did Wei WuXian notice that repetitive, strange noises of heavy dirt and rocks overlapping each other were coming from within the main temple. It sounded as if a lot of people were digging for something. He thought to himself, ‘What is he digging? A tunnel? The Stygian Tiger Seal? The thing being sealed within?’

Jin GuangYao said, “Speaking of which, I haven’t asked, how did Mister Wei know about this place? Don’t tell me you and HanGuang-Jun just happened to come here for sightseeing.”

Wei WuXian said, “LianFang-Zun has hidden quite a large file of property deeds inside the Fragrant Palace’s secret room. It was right next to some of my old handwritten notes. Don’t you remember?”

Jin GuangYao noted, “Ah, an oversight on my apart. I should have kept them separate.”

Wei WuXian continued, “Since none of us can escape you now, can LianFang-Zun tell me what exactly is sealed within the Guanyin Temple? Just to satisfy my curiosity?”

Jin GuangYao replied, smiling, “Satisfying your curiosity will come at a very high price. Does Young Master Wei truly wish to give it a try?”

Wei WuXian said, “Oh, then I’d rather not for now.”

Just then, Lan XiChen walked up to him. It was then that Wei WuXian realized that the sword by Lan XiChen’s waist had unsheathed by an inch, yet there was no spiritual energy on it at all. Wei WuXian asked, “ZeWu-Jun, what happened to you…?”

Lan XiChen said, “Ashamed. I was deceived, my cultivation sealed and my spiritual energy was lost. Though I have both Shuoyue[3] and Liebing on me, they won’t be much of use.”

Wei WuXian replied, “Don’t be ashamed. Deceiving people is LianFang-Zun’s specialty after all.”

Remembering the scene he had experienced through Empathy where Meng Yao had faked a suicide to get at Nie MingJue, and then the news that “LianFang-Zun was gravely injured”, it wasn’t difficult for Wei WuXian to deduce how Lan XiChen had lost his cultivation.

Jin GuangYao instructed a few monks, “Form an array. We’ll work out how to deal with Lan WangJi when he gets here later.”

Wei WuXian asked, “How are you so sure that HanGuang-Jun will come?”

Wei WuXian was still debating whether he should throw a lie or two to get Jin GuangYao into a false sense of security. But Jin GuangYao appeared to have already guessed his mind. With a light smile, Jin GuangYao said, “Of course he will come. Since Young Master Wei has already got his eyes on this Guanyin Temple, HanGuang-Jun would have naturally already sensed the peculiarities of this place. Don’t tell me that Young Master Wei thinks that I will believe it if you tell me that he’s not by your side?”

Wei WuXian said, “Smart man.”

Lan XiChen asked, “Young Master Wei. Since WangJi is also in the area, why isn’t he with you?”

Wei WuXian replied, “We split up.”

Lan XiChen appeared a little startled and said, “I heard that you were injured during the battle at the Burial Mound. How could he possibly part with you at a time like this?”

Wei WuXian returned the question with another. “Who did you hear that from?”

Jin GuangYao said, “Me.”

Wei WuXian shot him a glance, then turned back to Lan XiChen. “It’s like this. I couldn’t fall asleep tonight so I went out the inn to walk around a little and coincidentally found this place. HanGuang-Jun is staying in another room. He wouldn’t know that I’ve gone out.”

Jin GuangYao seemed to find that strange. “You were staying in two separate rooms?”

Wei WuXian retorted, “Who said we’d be staying in one room?”

Jin GuangYao smiled but did not reply. Wei WuXian muttered, “Oh, I get it now.” Lan XiChen was the one who’d said it.

Wei WuXian remarked, “You guys sure tell each other everything.”

Yet there was no joke in Lan XiChen’s tone when he said, “Young Master Wei, did something happen between the two of you?”

With the typical, warm smile gone from Lan XiChen’s face and his expression turning solemn and grave, his resemblance to Lan WangJi was magnified. Wei WuXian didn’t understand why Lan XiChen was having such a strong reaction. Already feeling guilty, Wei WuXian said, “Sect Leader Lan, what could possibly ever happen between us? Let’s just deal with the situation in front of us first.”

Wei WuXian’s gaze drifted towards Jin GuangYao as a reminder. Seeing it, Lan XiChen then said, “Sorry, I was being anxious.”

Yet, Jin GuangYao smiled and said, “Looks like something really did go wrong. And it’s not a small thing either.”

Wei WuXian smiled coldly when he said, “With all the sects going after you, does LianFang-Zun still have the leisure to worry over other people’s business? You sure are talkative.”

Jin GuangYao replied, “I wouldn’t dare. I’m just a little startled. HanGuang-Jun has been pining for so long, to think that even after so many years it still hasn’t come to fruition… Not just Sect Leader Lan, but even I, an outsider, am feeling quite sympathetic.”

Wei WuXian snapped to look at him. “Pining for what? What still hasn’t come to fruition?”

Hearing this, Jin GuangYao and Lan XiChen were both stunned. Both of them started studying Wei WuXian, paying attention to his every expression, as if trying to decide if he was deliberately playing dumb. Wei WuXian’s heart started to beat madly. It was as if the thing in his chest that had already been dead for half the night had suddenly been revived. Forcing himself to remain calm, he asked, “What do you mean?”

Jin GuangYao said, “What do I mean, Young Master Wei? Do you really not know or are you just pretending not to know? Either way, if HanGuang-Jun had heard that, that would have been truly more than a little hurtful.”

Wei WuXian shouted, “I really don’t know. Just explain yourself!!!”

Lan XiChen asked, stunned, “Young Master Wei, don’t tell me that, even after being with WangJi for so long, you are still completely oblivious to his true feelings?”

Clutching Lan XiChen with one hand, Wei WuXian was practically ready to kneel and beg him for a clear answer when he asked, “Sect Leader Lan, Sect Leader Lan, you, you’re saying Lan WangJi’s true feelings, true feelings on what?! Is it, is it……”

Lan XiChen wrested his hand free with tremendous force. His voice was full of disbelief. “So you truly doesn’t know, but have you honestly forgotten how he’d received those scars from the Disciplinary Whip? Have you not seen the scorched brand mark over his chest?”

Wei WuXian repeated, “Scars from the Disciplinary whip?!” He took a hold of Lan XiChen again and pleaded, “Sect Leader Lan, I really don’t know, please tell me, how exactly did he receive those scars? Has it really got something to do with me?!”

Something like anger flashed across Lan XiChen’s face as he said, “If it has nothing to do with you, then how did he get them? By mutilating himself without rhyme or reason?”

ZeWu-Jun always had the utmost self-restraint, but since the matter at hand concerned Lan WangJi, he was truly infuriated. However, after carefully studying Wei WuXian’s expression,, Lan XiChen’s anger subsided a fraction. Trying to sound out the situation, he asked, “Are your memories… damaged?”

“My memories?” Wei WuXian then tried with all his might to remember if he had forgotten something and said, “I don’t remember if there’s a period in my memories where…… there is!”

There was indeed a period in his life where his memories were unclear.

It was the night when blood had drenched the Nightless City[4]!

That night, Wei WuXian had believed that Wen Qing and Wen Ning had both already been reduced to ashes. After seeing all the prominent sects declaring vows of righteousness in their battle formation and then witnessing Jiang YanLi’s death, Wei WuXian had finally lost it. When he pieced the Stygian Tiger Seal together, the battle had turned into a slaughter. Those who had been murdered by the fierce corpses under his control had in turn become newly made fierce corpses, giving him an endless string of murderous puppets ready for use. And with them, he had turned the Nightless City into a bloodsoaked inferno.

Afterwards, although Wei WuXian had managed to retain enough strength to stand, he could not recall how exactly he had left the Nightless City and its ruins. He had been near senseless for a long while after that. When he finally came to himself again, he had already been sitting by the foot of the Burial Mound for quite some time.

Lan XiChen asked, “Do you remember now?”

Wei WuXian mumbled, “That time at the Nightless City? I, I’ve always thought that I had walked back on my own in a daze, don’t tell me……”

“Young Master Wei! That night at the Nightless City, how many people were you up against? Three thousand people! No matter how brilliant or exceptional you were, there was no way you could have retreated from that situation on your own unharmed! It’s just not possible!”

Wei WuXian asked, “Lan Zhan…… What did Lan Zhan do?”

Lan XiChen said, “As for what exactly Lan Zhan did, if you don’t remember, I fear that he wouldn’t ever remind you for as long as he lives, and you wouldn’t ever ask for it either. Fine, then let me tell you.”

He continued, “Young Master Wei, that night after you took out both pieces of the Stygian Tiger Seal and joined them together, you’d slaughtered many but you had been near your limit as well. You had injured WangJi during your rampage. He had been in no better state than you were, and could only stand steady while leaning on Bichen. But even then, when he saw you leave, he followed after you.

“Not many of the people left were still conscious at the time. I myself could barely move. I could only stare as WangJi limped after you, grabbed you, and flew off on his sword even though his cultivation was clearly near its limit.  

“It took four hours for my cultivation to fully recover. I immediately went back to the Gusu Lan Sect for backup. I was afraid that if some other sect had reached the two of you first, WangJi would be treated as your accomplice. His name and reputation would be ruined forever or, worse, he would be killed instantly without trial. Uncle and I gathered thirty-three other seniors of WangJi’s who had always taken a liking to him in the past. Together, we searched in secret for two days before finding traces of the two of you in Yiling. WangJi had hidden you within a cave. When we arrived, you were sitting in a daze on a rock. WangJi was holding your hands and passing cultivation energy through to you. The entire time, he was quietly speaking to you.

“And the entire time, you repeated one word at him over and over.

“‘Leave’!”[5]

Wei Wuxian’s throat was dry. With his eyes brimming red, he could not make a sound. Lan XiChen continued, “When my uncle reached him, he’d scolded him and asked him to explain himself. However WangJi seemed to have already expected us to find him, he only said, ‘There’s nothing to explain. This is what it seems.’ All his life, WangJi has never defied Uncle and I on anything. But for you, not only did he defy Uncle, he even drew his sword on the fellow cultivators of his own sect, and severely injured all thirty-three seniors of the Gusu Lan Sect that were with us……”

Wei WuXian gripped fistfuls of his own hair. “……I, I didn’t know…… I honestly……”

Aside from repeating himself and saying that he honestly did not know, Wei WuXian had no other words. Trying and failing to restrain himself, Lan XiChen continued, “Thirty three lashes of the Disciplinary Whip! To be delivered all at once, one for each person wronged. You know how painful that is, how long he’d have to lay in bed to recover! After he escorted you back to the Burial Mound, he came back on his own to receive the punishment. Do you know how he’d knelt in front of the the Wall of Discipline?! When I went to see him, I told him, ‘Young Master Wei was already in the wrong, why add onto the wrong committed?’ And he said……. He can’t affirm whether what you did was right or wrong. But no matter what, he was willing to shoulder all of the responsibility together with you. Those few years that he had spent in seclusion was really a front for the time it took him to recover. Even then, when he’d learned of your death, he still dragged his body over to the Burial Mound, insisting on one last look……

“When he had hidden you inside that cave, the way he’d spoke to you, the way he’d looked at you—even a blind and deaf man would be able to tell what he felt for you. This was what enraged my uncle to no end. WangJi had always been an exemplary child. When he grew older, he became a distinguished cultivator. He had been righteous, perfect, and void of worldly desires all his life. The only mistake he had ever made in his entire life was you! Yet, you say…… You say you don’t know. Young Master Wei, ever since you came back to life from the sacrificial host, have you not incessantly confessed your feelings and entangled yourself with him? Every night…… Every night you insisted to…… Yet, you say that you don’t know? If you really don’t know, then why did you do all these things to him?”

Wei WuXian almost wanted to go back in time to murder himself. It was precisely because he didn’t know that he would dare to do these things!

Suddenly, Wei WuXian felt terrified. If Lan WangJi had no idea that he had no memories of the few days after the battle at the Nightless City, if Lan WangJi always thought that he knew of his true feelings, then what had he been doing to Lan WangJi this whole time since he’d came back to life?

At first, when he had pretended to be a wanton basket case, he’d done everything he could to make Lan WangJi feel disgusted. He’d wanted Lan WangJi to throw him out of the Cloud Recesses so they could part ways. Lan WangJi couldn’t have not seen through his real intentions. But even then, Lan WangJi had still…… kept him safe by his side, and shielded him from Jiang Cheng, not allowing Jiang Cheng to make things difficult for him. Lan WangJi had answered and given him everything he’d asked, and put up with every wild and crazy thing he’d stirred. Against Wei WuXian’s endless strings of mischiefs, excessive teasings and wicked provocations, Lan WangJi had always exhibited the utmost self-restraint, and acted nothing less than proper.

Then, earlier at the inn, when Lan WangJi had pushed him aside, did Lan WangJi believe that it was……. Just another even more wanton, mad game that Wei WuXian had played in the spur of a moment?

Wei WuXian could not longer stand these thoughts. Without warning, he dashed for the gate of the Guanyin Temple but was blocked by numerous cultivators. Jin GuangYao said, “Young Master Wei, I understand your agitation……”

All Wei WuXian wanted to do right now was to rush back to the inn to find Lan WangJi and tell him his true feelings in a thousand rambling words. He slapped the two monks holding him with tremendous force, howling, “You understand fuck-all!”

The slap caused seven to eight people to come over at him and Wei WuXian’s vision went dark. Jin GuangYao insistently finished his earlier sentence. “……I simply wanted to tell you, that you don’t have to rush back so urgently. Your HanGuang-Jun is already here.”

A blue flash of sword glare descended from the sky, sharply forcing back the circle of people surrounding Wei WuXian before returning to the hand of its owner. Lan WangJi landed in front of the Guanyin Temple without a sound and shot Wei WuXian a glance. Lan WangJi’s expression looked nothing out of the ordinary. Meanwhile, Wei WuXian’s nerves had all bunched up again. Everything he had planned to say a moment ago suddenly all jumbled up into a mess and stuffed itself back into the pit of his stomach. Stomach churning, Wei WuXian could only mumble, “……Lan Zhan.”

Just earlier, Jin Ling had been stunned by Lan XiChen’s shocking retelling. Now that Lan WangJi was here, joy blossomed in Jin Ling. But after seeing the way Lan WangJi and Wei WuXian were staring at each other now, Jin Ling’s expression shifted into something weird again. Jin GuangYao sighed, “See, I told you so, Young Master Wei. If you are here, then HanGuang-Jun will definitely come.”

Holding Bichen, Lan WangJi’s wrist flicked into motion. Just as he was about to make a move, Jin GuangYao smiled and said, “HanGuang-Jun, you better take five steps backward.”

Suddenly, Wei WuXian sensed a small, sharp pain around his neck. Lan XiChen warned him in a low voice, “Careful. Don’t move!”

Lan WangJi’s gaze was fixed on Wei WuXian’s neck; face turning pale.

An almost unnoticeably slim golden qin string[6] had tightened itself around Wei WuXian’s neck.

-

Footnotes:

[1]: Fairy’s gender: Originally, the pronoun “it” was used since animals and inanimate objects shared the same pronoun in Chinese. But in English, people typically refers to their pets by their gender, so I’ve changed it to “her” since 仙子 is a very feminine name. However, I don’t think Fairy’s sex was ever explicitly specified, so apologies if I’m making a mistake here.

[2]: Er-ge: Jin GuangYao calls Lan XiChen 二哥, “Second older brother”, since Lan XiChen is the second oldest in The Venerated Triad, who are sworn brothers.

[3]: Shuoyue: 朔月, Lan XiChen’s sword, broadly means “new moon”.

[4]: The night when blood had drenched the Nightless City: 血洗不夜天, this is actually the name of that battle, but since it’s too long to be a name in English, I’ve chosen to leave it as a description instead.  

[5]: ‘Leave’: 滚 is actually a tier more rude than “leave”. 滚 has been consistently translated as either “get lost” or “fuck off” and most of the times it’d go for one of the two. But in this instance, after some lengthy discussions with my betas, I’ve decided to put “leave”, as Wei WuXian was tired/cranky/half-dead and only cared to repeat one very rude, rejecting word, not two.

[6]: Qin string: 琴弦, the strings from a guqin.

[fictionalfantasy]

Barely Safe {Some Angst} Wen NingxWei Wuxian

[[ And here we see why you don’t let someone binge watch/read MDZS without expecting ships -w-; This angsty fluff needed to be born~ ]]

//Right there could be spoilers if you haven’t gotten past the calamity tortoise~ But this is also totally entering an AU from there~//

Seven days really seemed like forever, and despite everything no one expected that the tunnel that had been dug out would have someone thrown down from a sword in the sky to the ground and exploded again. The battle outside raged, while a teen in the Wen uniform plummeted to startled to yell. He hugged the bag he had at his chest tightly and landed on the dead leaves accumulated by the rocks. Several of rocks rolled down after him causing him to spit out blood as he shakily rolled over, tears in his eyes. Almost thankful the rocks had broken the quiver of arrows and bow he was sent down here with. Apparently to prove their loyalty a few cultivators were pulled from Yiling, unfortunately Wen Chao really was frustrated and sent Wen Ning to the den where the summoned cultivators were aiming to have them killed. Not realizing that anyone from Yiling would never take blood on their hands.

Coughing shakily he crawled to his feet lighting a talisman he saw a fire in the distance, but closer to him was a dead beast head. Even if it was dead the head of a snake and the scary pool of blood earned a startled yelp and he fell backwards scooting away, the talisman going out when it was dropped in shock. The scaredy cat was definitely not the best choice to send some place like this with such freights everywhere one turned. His eyes trembled and his heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest, how had this been killed... It was clearly rather recent given the scent of the blood. Wen Ning scooted across the ground, not paying mind to making his robes even dirtier, he’d just rolled down a pile of rocks, more dirt wasn’t going to change anything... Not that he was aware of that at the moment anyway.

He heard humming which finally forced him to shake his head and focus, trembling he climbed to his feet again, clutching at his chest, he had a decent sized pouch of medicines with him to help anyone whom might need it. As he went over to the fire he blanched a bit, neither Young Master Lan nor Young Master Wei were in good shape. The former was at least conscious, while the later was flushed with fever. Ignoring the concern from Lan Wangji Wen Ning went over, glancing at him seeing that he wasn’t too hurt he passed the white clad male some herbs, water and dumplings before frowning. “W....what h..happened?” He knelt down beside the unconscious young master, starting to grind up some medicine to apply to the injuries he saw. The brand mark seemed infected, it was inflamed and oozing as Wen Ning applied some herbs to it, he flinched. It looked so painful.

Biting his lip Wen Ning worked carefully, trembling, not having a clue he was bleeding himself from the rocks that hit him. Lan Wangji watched as the young man worked blinking a few times in surprise... Initially he was ready to take defensive measures, then he recognized the boy from the archery competition. His eyes clouded slightly in annoyance, still he ate the food and drank the water... It was obvious this boy wouldn’t harm them, he had eyes of admiration for Wei Ying after all, to answer the question what happened the other merely muttered “Xuanwu of calamity...” The boy trembled again and whimpered hearing the name of the beast, a beast of legend... No wonder they were so badly hurt. His eyes teared up a bit as he worked, and he heard Master Wei groan so he immediately turned his attention back to him.

The sting of the medicine and caused him to blearily open his eyes. “Nn..?” Wen Ning sighed softly “Young Master Wei... I’m going to help you drink some water, hydrating will be beneficial...” Carefully he lifted a pouch to the other’s mouth, and lifted his upper back just enough to ensure he didn’t choke like this. Though his eyes were very clearly fogged over, their redness wasn’t very focused at all. Wen Wuxian obediently swallowed a few mouthfuls before he passed out again. Wen Ning carefully laid him back down and capped the pouch, he continued to treat the black clad male until he was at least showing signs of recovering from infection. 

He prepared to move over to Master Lan when the unconcious Wei Ying wrapped his arms around his leg, turning him into a pillow. His fever was still quite high, making it obvious against Wen Ning’s leg. The sun clad boy turned red from his cheeks to his ear lobes “Y-young M-master W-w-Wei?!” He was startled and couldn’t exactly push an injured patient away despite this. Lan Wangji sighed “...He is shameless... Even in sleep... Why are you here?” Finally having been asked reluctantly Wen Ning looked up from the red faced boy in his lap to the man across from him. “T-t-there is a b-battle o-outside... I w-was t-thrown i-in... W-Wen C-Chao h-had w-wanted t-to p-punish t-the p-people h-here... B-but... H-he t-threw m-m-me in... T-there i-is no w-way I c-could k-kill f-for him...” He whimpered softly as he felt the ravenette in his lap cuddle closer to him getting comfortable, he was resting more easily and he had quite a few leaves in his hair which Wen Ning carefully pulled out not knowing what else to do, his hand gently stroked the head resting in his lap.

Silence spread between them, one sleeping, one watching and one anxiously worried over the silence. Eventually once again the young master’s eyes fluttered open, seeing a body above him. He blinked a few times and slowly sat up, he was unsteady as he looked at the other. Finally seeming to recognize him “Y...you... from the archery...?” The sentence was half exhausted and muddled but Wen Ning lit up nodding several times “Y...you remember me Y-young M-master Wei?” Wei Wuxian swayed unevenly and started to fall, startled Wen Ning reached out and caught him “Y-yo-you s-shouldn’t move yet... Y-you’re s-still he-healing.” Wei Wuxian sort of cuddled up to him mumbling “You’re cool...” Before passing out again.

Lan Wanugji and Wen Qionglin exchanged glances as he helped the third lay down again. Silence over took them and once again Wen Ning was a pillow unable to escape, he pouted and gave the other more herbs for his leg worried for both of them. “I h-hope t-they g-get i-in t-t-to sa-save you b-both s-soon...” There was only a “Mn...” in response. 

The balance between the trio was only kept by the unconscious boy, his fever was slowly coming down. Wen Ning had long since lost feeling in his legs and besides the crackling of the fire, the only sound was their breathing for a while. Finally there was another sound, the sound of the cave opening once again. Carefully Wen Ning lifted Wei Ying off his lap, preparing to move his head to the pile of leaves and move into the back of the cave to disappear, even a fool would know he’d be unwanted here. Lan Wangji looked over hearing the sound of movement, understanding his choice. However both of their eyes widened when they saw the fussy young master’s eyes open again. He wrapped his arms around the other’s waist and pretended to fall back asleep. Leaving them at a loss.

However Wen Ning’s ears burned when he heard a very soft whisper of ‘Stay’ he didn’t quite have a choice at this moment now did he. 

Not even an hour later there was a flurry of activity, everything happened very quickly. There were startled yells from those with weak stomachs seeing the defeated beast, there were angry yells seeing the Wen that was thrown down the hole caring for the two boys, there were yells to silence them. Young Master Lan had defended Wen Ning stating simply “Without him. We would be corpses by now.” And he left limping on his still injured leg, refusing assistance, he also told Master Jiang how Wei Wuxian had defeated the beast before departing and refusing an escort.

Wen Ning’s face was apologetic, he stammered “I t-tried t-to m-move b-before... B-but I c-can’t...” The Master stroked his chin understanding the situation, he knew Wei Wuxian as well as his own son, and had a feeling he’d done this so that they wouldn’t harm the young Wen. So he smiled kindly “As you’ve helped us and likely will be found unfavorable... Would you like to return to Lotus Pier with us?” There were whispers of protest as the young man was startled, his mouth fell agape and he didn’t know how to respond, it was written on his face clear as day he didn’t wish to cause trouble. This earned a chuckle from the Sect Leader. He merely waved his hand, carefully taking Wei Wuxian into his arms. He gave the instruction to some others to assist Wen Ning. He was at a clear loss even when he was helped up, he didn’t even remember getting to Lotus Pier.

A few days had passed, there was sort of an uneasy tension before Wei Wuxian awakened. Wen Ning didn’t really leave the room he was put in, wanting to avoid trouble, only the siblings visited him. Rather mostly just Jiang Yanli, she made sure he ate and treated the cuts from the rocks he’d ignored. They did get along a bit, she managed to make him open up a bit and they had a quiet sort of friendship.

Finally Wei Wuxian had opened his eyes, asked what he needed to, protested, argued and restored the friendship with his brother-in-arms. Before finally going to see the shy archer he’d instructed before. Jiang Cheng protested that he still needed rest, as aloof as ever he pointed out even if he couldn’t beat a kitten that the other wouldn’t hurt him. Of course there were doubts, but no one doubted Wei Wuxian in the sense he was quite sharp when it came to judging others. Seeing things that others often missed, so he could only sigh and leave.

Wen Ning was curled in a corner of the room, startled seeing the other walk in, his eyes lit up. There was no way to hide the relief on his face that the other was okay, Wei Ying chuckled and grinned “You really are uneasy here huh?” He lowered himself to sit beside the other, a cheshire’s grin glued to his face “Then again that’s just your nature huh? But you also have a daring side, to be able to get Lan Zhan not to chase you off back then. Hmmm, thanks for that.” Wen Ning didn’t really have time to get a word in edge wise from the start and was startled as the other thanked him, raising his hands he shook his head “I w-was j-just g-glad I c-could d-do so-something t-to h-help y-you b-b-back then...” His face tinged red and he had a look that said he wanted to hide, he wasn’t used to being praised or thanked. It was adorable, chuckling Wei Wuxian shifted and fell backwards landing against Wen Ning who was startled. Closing his eyes Wei Wuxian smiled “You really worry too much, you could have let me fall you know.” 

Instead of letting the other protest he pulled him down as well and just hugged him, it wasn’t something either of them were used to, but it didn’t feel bad. Despite the injuries they just sort of cuddled together like cats might. Jiang Yanli who had brought some food for them didn’t say anything, she just smiled seeing them get along and left the tray for them. 

Over the next few days they were inseparable, people would joke that Wei Wuxian was becoming a cut-sleeve, but his naturally flirting disproved that as always. Though there would be moments of confusion seeing them leaned together, or Wei Wuxian laying in the Wen’s lap. Finally both of them had more or less healed and Wen Ning decided to return home, so not to worry his sister. They sent him off at night so there wouldn’t be trouble. 

Under a cloak of leaves hidden in the shadows where no one would see, they parted with a kiss. Gentle, warm and barely countable as a kiss. Still it was warm and set both their hearts racing as they parted. They weren’t sure what it was between them, but this warmth could last a life time.

[kenzieam]

The Reaper and the Vixen - Chapter Twelve (Eric X Fox)

Rating: M

Genre: Drama, Angst, Language, Smut

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Four loitered in the hallway for awhile, listening to the faint voices coming from the far room. A times Fox and Eric’s voices would rise in volume and Four shifted uneasily at the sound. He’d truly thought that Eric and Fox were meant to be, that after years of being alone, his friend and brother was finally going to have the same happiness that Four had with Tris.

Faint stirrings of regret coiled in his gut. He’d come down hard on Fox today, and so had Tris. It had been a knee-jerk reaction when Tris had told him about Fox’s retreat. He realized he was abnormally protective of Eric, to the point of cruelty towards a perceived threat and began to pace to burn off his guilty energy. He’d seen true remorse on Fox’s face as he’d led her down here, and her crying had burrowed deeply into his heart, making him rethink his initial fury. Fox’s reaction was completely understandable once you stopped to think about it. Tris had hit her with a lot; fuck, Eric himself hadn’t been ready to tell her yet because he knew how big of a blow it would be. She already had trouble trusting people, of course she’d have problems adjusting.

Four realized the voices from the room had stopped and he paused in his pacing, listening closer. He’d no doubt that Fox was truly sorry about her actions, but what would Eric do? He was, deep down Four knew, insecure about himself and what he had to offer a partner. Those three dark years of hell had done a number on him, tattooed his soul and psyche. He was worried of falling back into that shadowy place, fearful about devolving, regressing into that monster and maybe never coming back.

“That him?” Four asked, glancing back over his shoulder.

“Yeah, don’t follow too close.” Eric replied, making Four snort with derision.

“I do know how to tail someone, Reap.”

“Yeah, like T-Boone? Fucker could hear you behind him the whole time, it was like a dump truck driving through a-”

“Shhh!” Decker grunted.

Four and Eric fell silent, glaring petulantly at each other for a heartbeat before grinning widely and looking away with a chuckle. Four grew instantly serious, glancing in his mirror before pulling out to follow the obnoxiously chromed Escalade currently carrying their quarry, the equally obnoxious Anthony Fraiy.

Reaper, Four, Decker, Dropkick and a prospect named Seger had left the compound at the ass-crack of dawn this AM in the club’s van, on their way to pay a visit to the slick prick currently concealed behind near-black tint, his vanity plate the ultra douchey ‘WINNING’. It irked them to no end to have to leave their bikes (extensions of their very selves) at home, but they needed stealth, and five Harley’s rumbling down the road were the exact opposite of that. After only an hour on the road Decker’s contact had called his encrypted cell with the news that Fraiy had left LA, was on his way to whoop it up in San Francisco for a few weeks. Immediately Four had gotten cold feet, demanded they return to the compound and make a new plan. The Golden Gate City was new territory, the battleground not set.

“No. I want it done now, while my girl’s not around. That fuck’s been walking around free for too goddamn long. It’s time to pay the piper. We’ll follow him for a while, but I want it done before Fox gets back from Seattle.”

Decker had been on Four’s side, ready to back off and attack another day, but Dropkick was squarely in Eric’s camp, while the prospect wisely kept silent, reluctantly agreeing with Eric only after being pushed to make some type of a decision.

Now they’d been tailing the bastard all day, taking turns driving, watching and learning, while Decker gleaned what info he could from his laptop. Fraiy was being careless right now, partying without care at a large outdoor park, drinking like a fish but surprisingly staying away from the powders and pills offered to him. There was no way that they would grab him there, with dozens upon dozens of witnesses, but Decker had done something extremely clever and even more illegal with his computer, and they’d tapped into Fraiy’s cell phone. After midnight Fraiy had decided he’d stayed clean long enough, called a dealer, and was soon gathering his posse to meet said dealer down by an abandoned pier before heading back to the lavish suite he’d rented at the Four Seasons.

“Thank Christ he’s got a flair for drama.” Four muttered, yawning. “A normal person would find a parking lot, this prick has to go all Hollywood on us.” They’d slept in cycles for the day, at least two awake and watching, following Fraiy as he’d jaunted about town, meeting new douche-canoe clients and flashing cash. “What an asshole.”

Eric’s adrenaline had been raging, in fact he’d been on fire all day watching Fraiy, watching the bastard dance around like he’d never done something so reprehensible as drug and rape a woman, like he was King Shit. Eric’s hands twitched constantly as the Reaper begged to come out and play.

They’d reached the docks first and killed the worthless dealer straight away. He was high as a kite, completely alone and consequently, an easy target; then they sat back and waited for the real objective to arrive. The Escalade had slowed to a stop, music thumping through the windows and a whole gaggle of merry assholes had fallen out. Fraiy and his posse were absolutely oblivious to any danger, laughing and goofing off. The only one paying attention was the new guy; the one Fraiy had just hired a few days ago, a big bastard who never stopped scanning the surroundings. But even he wasn’t ready for what was coming, courtesy of the Reaper.

It had been easy. A necessary evil, all of Fraiy’s posse was dispatched, most of them were too high to even realize there was danger and within seconds it was only Eric and his brothers standing over a babbling, stammering Anthony Fraiy. He’d sobered in a hurry, tried to run but Four had clothes-lined him, dropped him to the ground where he’d delivered a savage kick to his stomach, making him gasp like a fish.

Eric advanced on him, eyes unwavering and Fraiy started to tremble as he saw his impending doom.

“Wh- what do you want?” His voice shook, tears beginning to form in his wide eyes.

Eric didn’t answer immediately and dropped to a crouch next to the shaking man. Fraiy tried to crawl away but the brothers crowded him and he turned his terrified attention back to Eric, now the Reaper. Four could see the change, the very altering of Eric’s posture, the set of his shoulders. His friend was temporarily gone, and in his place was the man who brought death.

“Your soul.” The Reaper replied, his voice cold and Four couldn’t stop a shudder.

He’d stopped begging for mercy an hour ago, was now crying like a baby when the Reaper finally answered his tearful question. “Why? What did I do?”

“Remember Fox Layton?” Fraiy’s face went deadly pale. “The woman you drugged and raped?” The Reaper lightly trailed the gut-hook knife he’d been toying with along Fraiy’s jaw, almost like a lover. “I’m here for her.” Without hesitating he thrust the knife through the meaty part of Fraiy’s cheek and yanked harshly towards his chest, ripping open one side of a Glasgow smile in the howling man’s face.

Fraiy’s voice gave out long before he stopped trying to scream.

The body stilled, a few last shivers coursing through the limbs as the Reaper pulled the blade free. In all honesty, Fraiy had held out longer than anyone expected him to, and Four was toying with the idea of suggesting Eric wrap it up, the sun had risen for Christ’s sake, when he’d finally seemed to decide that Fraiy had endured enough, and stabbed him one last time decisively in the heart.

The Reaper stood, his back to Four, still staring down at the twitching corpse, then he turned his head, eyes meeting Four’s and the VP shuddered at the arctic cold in his brother’s eyes. Looking back down at Fraiy, he rolled his shoulders and exhaled heavily before turning to look again at him and Four could only breathe a sigh of relief as he saw Eric back in his friend’s eyes. The Reaper was asleep again, for now.

Slight movement caught Four’s attention and he glanced to his right. The bodyguard they’d thought dead, the only one who’d put up any sort of a fight, was weakly swinging an arm, holding a shaking gun in his hand. There was no time for anything else; the prospect, Seger, standing the closest to the bodies, was moving too slowly to help.

“Eric!” He pulled his gun, but it was too late.

Following Four’s horrified gaze, Eric turned to look and everything was suddenly in slow motion.

A gunshot rang out and everything fell apart.

Fox didn’t appear in the hallway, as Four was half-expecting her too; surely if she broke up with Eric she wouldn’t be staying in there with him and he began to wonder if she’d had a change of heart, if seeing Eric like that, near death and covered in blood had clarified things for her or maybe she’d just finally had time to think and acknowledge what everyone else could already see, that she and the Reaper were made for each other, that their pasts only made them stronger together.

Unwelcome images bombarded Four then, haunting memories he never wanted to go through again but knew he’d see in nightmares for years to come; the shock and first bloom of pain on Eric’s face when he’d turned at Four’s shout and right into the path of the bullet from the bodyguard with nine lives; the way his body had jolted, his faint grunt of surprise. The way his eyes had rolled back in his head as he’d collapsed bonelessly to the ground, his white t-shirt, already stained with Fraiy’s drying blood beginning to darken anew with his own. Screaming like a man possessed Four emptied the rest of his clip into the immortal bastard, would’ve slammed another clip in and emptied that one too if Decker hadn’t grabbed him, knocking the gun from his hand. Dropkick’s face was white with shock when Four finally broke free from Decker and scrambled to reach them. The man was on his knees beside Eric, pressing his hands over his chest while thick blood oozed from between his fingers. Eric was pale, half-conscious and hardly responsive. Seger, knowing he’d dropped the ball and allowed his President to be hurt, wavered on his feet, stunned.

Four had wasted precious minutes trying to get ahold of old Cyrus Packer, finally calling Ace, the President of their brother club down here, the Savages and learning that the infamous (in biker club circles) back alley doctor had OD’d a month ago and the club hadn’t found anyone to replace him yet. Eric was holding on, but he was definitely going to need someone with medical training soon. Feeling real panic, for one of the first times in his life, Four had made the call to try and get back to Doc at the clubhouse, then, after working it out with Ace for the Savages to get down here poste haste and clean up the mess the Hessians were about to leave behind, he’d spent the next three hours in the back of the van freaking the fuck out, begging Eric to stay with him, to stay awake and keep talking, to not die and leave him. Yeah, he hadn’t been in the best frame of mind when they’d arrived at the clubhouse, Eric had stopped responding to them twenty minutes earlier; only the pain of Silkie trying to get a vein and Doc all but digging his finger into the bullet wound had roused him enough to start struggling against them again, his eyes glazed with agony and confusion.

Fox had received the brunt of Four’s panicked desperation and he’d lashed out at her instead of doing what he really wanted to do, which was tear his hair from his head and run screaming around the compound until his fraying sanity finally snapped, anything but confront the reality that Eric could die, that he’d been shot right in front of Four, that he’d failed to protect his friend and brother. There was precious little in his life that Four wouldn’t willingly sacrifice to never feel like that again, to know the helpless terror of watching the life of someone you loved slip away.

He swallowed hard, blinked away sudden tears.

His feet carried him silently down the hallway and he peeked his head quietly around the door.

Eric had rolled partially onto his right side and he and Fox lay facing each other on the bed. They were pressed tightly together, hands clasped, heads sharing the same pillow. Eric’s eyes were closed and he appeared asleep. Although pale, he looked content; his jaw, gritted with pain only a short time ago was relaxed, his body peaceful and pliant.

Fox was still awake, gazing at Eric and the look in her eyes took Four’s breath away. Her hand traced lightly along his stubbled cheek and she was humming quietly, too low for Four to make out what. But the love that was shining in her eyes was what captured his attention; it was something Four had never seen before, it made his chest tighten, sent a sudden stab of guilt right through him at even contemplating the notion that Fox didn’t completely and irrevocably love Eric. It was glaringly obvious that she lived and breathed for this man, right now in this private moment of vulnerability, and Four felt suddenly like a voyeur, like an unwelcome spy.

Pulling back, Four turned and crept away, careful not to make a sound.

As he entered the bar area Tris looked up from a table then stood and stormed over to him.

“Where is she?” She demanded hotly. “Is she in there bothering-” Four grabbed Tris’ arm hard, and stunned, she fell silent. Glancing quickly around to make sure they hadn’t attracted too much attention Four started marching towards the stairs, pulling Tris along with him. He only released her arm once they’d entered their room and he’d shut the door behind them.

“Tobias! What the fuck-” Tris, already riled up, was firing on all cylinders now.

“You were wrong.” He snapped shortly. “We both were.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Fox. And Eric. She’s not trying to run away.”

“Sure the hell looked like-”

“You didn’t give her a chance to process the news. Christ Tris, don’t you remember what she just told you? What that bastard did to her? She has trust issues and rightfully so; and Jesus Fuck, neither one of us helped that by tearing her apart just now. She’s in there right now with Eric, so close they’re practically melded together and Eric’s sleeping like a baby; and fuck me, the look in her eyes, watching him? I’ve never seen someone look at someone else like that before, it’s like Romeo and Juliet level shit!”

Tris fell silent, and the belligerence that had been blazing in her eyes weakened. She started to worry at her bottom lip, gaze flicking from the floor to Four and back again.

“We owe her a fuck of an apology.” Four stated flatly. “But not right now, let them have some quiet time together.”

Tris nodded humbly, eyes flicking up at Four’s before dropping again. Like Four, she’d been too caught up in defending Eric to react rationally and, now that she was aware of that, felt a sharp stab of guilt.

“Are you okay?” She asked quietly, and Four knew what she meant. Was he still reeling from the shock of seeing Eric near death, of watching him bleed out? Was he going to be able to sleep tonight or was he just going to lay there silently, staring at the ceiling, or sitting down in the bar in the dark, smoking a joint and nursing a drink, waiting for the sunrise?

Four shook his head, closing his eyes and bit his lip as he felt Tris wrap her arms around him, then he let his head fall to rest on hers and, for a few short minutes, let himself cry.

***************************************************************************************************************************************************** Eric woke first, grimacing as his eyes opened and daylight struck him. He felt sore, disjointed, yet oddly content and his lips pulled into a smile when he saw the reason for his contentment. Fox was still asleep, long lashes brushing her cheeks, her skin pale, making faint freckles stand out. Her hand was curled tightly in Eric’s and he saw faint, dried tears on her cheeks, the pillow they shared still damp underneath her face.

When she’d confessed to him last night that she now knew the truth of his dark past, and that her first instinct had been to run, Eric hadn’t known what to do. The pain in his chest was suddenly nothing, the barest twinge compared to the anguish flooding his heart. If Fox left him, and over something like that, something he couldn’t change, then Eric might as well just stop fighting, stop living, just tear the stitches holding his bullet wound together and let his blood flow again, only this time, watch it surge across his chest and not try with everything he had to stay, to fight not to leave. Three hours is a long fucking time to be laying in the back of a van clinging desperately to life, battling the darkness threatening to consume you, frantically conjuring the image of your beloved, your fucking soul mate to keep yourself from succumbing to the peaceful oblivion, but Eric had; he’d fought tooth and nail to return to Fox, only to hear that she wasn’t staying. Anger had flooded him then, helpless rage and bone-deep fury, but even still, he hadn’t meant the words ‘get the fuck out’, and he never would.

Fox’s eyelids fluttered and she sighed breathily as her eyes slowly opened. Surprise flashed across her face for a millisecond, then was replaced by relief; tears started to form in her eyes and Eric winced as he reached to brush them away. Pulling back he just gazed at her for a long moment.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.

The fragile hold Fox had on herself and her emotions broke and she started to cry; bowing forwards, tucking her face into Eric’s throat as she shook and Eric ached to comfort her. He shifted, hissing as his stitches pulled and a sharp stab of pain ripped through his chest, freezing in place until the pain weakened and tapered off, then shifted again, squirming closer to Fox. She clung to him like a life raft, anguish tearing through her, her body shaking with the force of her sobs and Eric could only hold her and stroke one hand slowly down her cheek, wait for her sorrow to abate. Finally, her tears slowed and Fox sniffled hard against his throat.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Don’t,” Eric murmured back. “We’re not looking back anymore.” He ducked his head, enough to catch her eye and used his finger and thumb to tilt her chin. “You and me, the past is over. It’s gone.”

Fox nodded, swallowing hard then her forehead furrowed for a heartbeat.

“Is he dead? Anthony? That’s where you went, right? Four told me.”

Eric nodded, eyes hardening. Before Four had brought Fox to him, he’d talked with his VP, learning what happened after he’d been shot. They owed the Savages big now, they’d cleaned up the mess left behind, disposed of the bodies while his brothers scrambled to save him.

“He’s dead, I made sure he suffered first, but yeah, he’s gone.” Eric held his breath, waiting for Fox’s reaction. How did you react really, when you learned someone had killed another for you?

A thousand emotions flashed through Fox’s tear-filled eyes; Eric saw brief horror, fascination and, overwhelming everything else, relief. Snuggling closer she burrowed her face in his chest. “Thank you,” she choked, clearly torn between bone-deep liberation and a nagging conscience. “I.... I hate to admit it and I’m not sure I’ll ever want the details..... It’s wrong, but I wanted him dead.... and I didn’t think I’d be strong enough to do it myself.” Eric heard lingering shame in her voice; although she was admitting to it, she was still struggling with her intent, with her desire for revenge that went so far against the grain of ‘civilized society’.

“Don’t,” Eric repeated. “Don’t waste anything more on that piece of shit. He’s not worth it, he hurt you unforgivably and now he’s paid for it. His life was forfeit the moment he decided to violate your trust like that.” Eric paused, a new thought hitting him, and he asked tentatively. “Do you wish you’d been there? I was trying to protect you from-”

Fox raised her head, eyes wide. “No, no. I don’t think I could stand to see him again.” Her eyes softened and Eric leaned gratefully into her hand as she cupped his cheek. “Thank you.”

“I love you Fox. I will always protect you, no matter what.”

Fresh tears spilled over Fox’s cheeks and she shook her head, wiping at her face. “I don’t deserve you-”

Eric crashed his lips to Fox’s to silence her; she had no idea of her worth, of her importance to him, of her standing in his life but he would goddamn well show her, every single day.

Fox melted against him with a moan, yielding to his kiss and drawing a groan from deep in his chest. Her hand curled around the back of his head, pulling him closer as their tongues tangled together and Eric felt her surrender to him, give over that last little piece of resistance, broken loose by the intensity and power of Eric’s love for her, by his reckless action to bring her peace.

The lingering pain in Eric’s body faded to the background as warmth rushed through him. His body, wounded and aching, wanted more, wanted to feel Fox joined with him, to chase away the last lingering doubts of their connection and he traced her cheekbone tenderly with his fingertip, his eyes and touch conveying his desire.

Fox pulled away, eyes widening. “No Eric, your chest-”

“Doesn’t hurt,” Eric grunted, eyes darkening. That was a lie, he was in considerable pain, but he’d gladly suffer through it for the chance to feel Fox now.

Doubt flashed in her kaleidoscope eyes but Eric pulled her back to him, pouring everything into his kiss and Fox gave in with a shudder. Her hand trailed down his abdomen and crept below the sweats Doc and Four had dressed him in earlier after he’d stabilized and he hissed, teeth gritted as her fingers grazed his straining cock.

“Fuck baby-” he groaned, palm finding the swell of her breast. His thumb flicked across her nipple just as she stroked up and down his shaft and they moaned in unison. Eric rolled onto his back, pointedly ignoring the jolt of pain in his chest and gripped Fox’s hips, pulling at her to straddle him. Fox followed easily, lips parted on harsh pants. Sitting up on her knees slightly Fox yanked at his sweats, pulling them down his thighs and letting his dick spring free, straining and red, tip weeping in anticipation.

Their eyes caught and held, a multitude of thoughts and emotions ferrying back and forth between them. Eric’s fingers curled bruisingly hard on Fox’s hips and she squirmed, struggling to shed her clothes. Her fingernails gouged red trails in her own skin as she yanked furiously at her underwear and finally she was free, tossing the articles away carelessly, focussed solely on relieving their desperate craving.

Eric arched back into the pillow with a strangled groan as Fox sank down onto him, as he filled her in one smooth push. Fox bit back a cry, bucking above him, her movements hindered by Eric’s grip on her hips. Their eyes locked again as their bodies began to move together, Fox rocking her hips, pulling Eric deeper each time. His eyes rolled back in his head as an amazing wave of sensations crashed over him, his pain forgotten. Wanting to see her again, he opened his eyes, a fresh claw of lust hooking him at the fierce desire in Fox’s eyes. Their gaze held as their movements grew less coordinated, as they climbed higher and higher together. Eyes narrowing as the sweet pain grew overwhelming, Eric reached up, cupping Fox’s cheek and pulled her down for a fevered, soul-claiming kiss before Fox reared back as her climax hit, biting back a shriek of ecstasy. Eric bucked beneath her, surrendering to his own violent release, choking back a roar as indescribable pleasure crashed over him, wave after delicious wave of soul-deep gratification. Everything else faded away as he pulsed inside his woman, filled her with his seed, felt her throb around him; then Fox sagged above him, panting, muscles trembling with aftershocks and exertion. Eric pulled her to him, gasping for breath, the adrenaline racing through him enough to dull the pain waiting to ambush him, but Eric didn’t care, he’d willingly put up with unfiltered agony just to experience this bliss again.

“I don’t remember giving the all-clear for that.” A dry voice remarked from the doorway and Fox bit back a squeak of surprise, yanking the covers over her naked body, burrowing into Eric’s side. Still riding a high better than any drug Eric grinned lazily at Doc, leaning against the doorframe and trying hard to look serious. Giving up he shook his head with a smirk. “Take it easy boss, I don’t feel like repairing any torn stitches.”

“Mind your own business.” Eric grinned and Doc snorted with amusement.

“You got five minutes then I’m coming back to check your bandage!” Doc yelled over his shoulder as he turned to leave, pulling the door closed again behind him.

[sirtravisjacksonoftexas]

Is Jesus a mythical figure, based on the Sumerian goddess Inanna? Um, NO, and here is why:

Inanna was the Sumerian goddess of war, fertility and love. Queen of both Heaven and Earth, Inanna was known to the Babylonians as Ishtar (though the stories about Ishtar have differences from that of the Sumerian Inanna, reflecting different theologies). Inanna was considered the protector of prostitutes, and she was at times depicted at the keeper of the tablets of the Me, or cosmic laws. She fell in love with a minor god named Dumuzi (known to the Babylonians as Tammuz), only to lose him to the underworld. In some accounts this was for half of the year (fall and winter). When she had him for the other half, plants flourished (spring and summer).

Jesus Mythicists will claim that Jesus is based on this goddess, or that her cult at least influenced the Gospel stories. 

Considering this, I think it is an appropriate time to laugh.

Now that that’s over, let’s try to answer this question again without laughing.

Is Jesus based on…Inanna?

Let’s see why this is NOT the case.

1. Born of a virgin? 

No, she is the daughter of the moon god Sin, aka Suen aka Nanna, and Ningal (though in some sources her mother is not named). She was conceived the old-fashioned way.

3. Visited by Wise Men or Shepherds after she was born? No. Her lover Dummuzi was the god of shepherds, but there is no story of him visiting her after her birth.

4.Star proclaimed her birth?

No. She was identified with the planet Venus (aka the “Morning Star”), but this wasn’t a sign of her birth. If anything, it was symbolic of her descent into the underworld and return from it (Venus disappears and reappears in the night sky).

5. Miracle worker?

Yes, just like any other deity, big deal.

6. Bread and wine miracles? No.

7. Clothes stripped?

When Inanna went to the underworld, she had to pass through seven gates. At each gate, she had to discard jewelry (and at one point even her Me tablets). Eventually, at the seventh gate, she shucked her dress. According to Jesus Mythicists, this is supposed to be the basis for Jesus being stripped naked before being hung on a cross.

However…there is a problem.

You see, it was CUSTOMARY for those being crucified to be naked ! Roman soldiers were allowed by law to take the clothes of a person who was being crucified.

And what were the Roman Soldiers doing to Christ’s clothes in John 19:23-24?

Taking his clothes and casting lots, to see which one of them to get the clothing!

The story of Jesus being stripped naked wasn’t based on Inanna’s forced striptease; it was based on the Roman method of crucifixion.

8. Crucified?

No. While in the Underworld, the 7 judges of the underworld killed her with the “perishing stare of death.” Afterwards she was hung on a hook. (remember, Jesus died on the “upper” world, not under).

Oh, and by the way: Crucifixion wasn’t invented in ancient Sumer (the first civilization). It was invented in the 6th century BC, around 1400 years after the Sumerian Civilization ended.

Jesus Mythicists will protest, however, saying that, despite these facts, both Jesus and Inanna hung while dead; Inanna on a hook, Jesus on a cross. Thus, the latter must be derived from the former!

This objection is so weak that it doesn’t even deserve a response...But I’ll give one nonetheless for the fun of it. 

In UFC 3, a fighting event held in 1994, a master martial artist named Keith Hackney (5 feet 11, 200 pounds) fought Emmanuel Yarborough, a sumo wrestler who was 6 feet 8 inches tall and weighed at the time over 600 pounds. Yarborough was strong enough to curl 315 pounds 20 times  in a row. In terms of size and strength, Keith Hackney was outmatched, but by the time the fight was over…Keith Hackney emerged victorious. He was nicknamed “The Giant Killer” afterwards.

Now, Keith Hackney’s accomplishment is quite similar to fairy tale and mythological stories involving normal sized men or women facing giants, overcoming them with guile (think “Jack the giant killer”, or Odysseus and the Cyclops in Homer’s “Odyssey”). He did use superior fighting styles and strategies in that fight, thus outsmarting and outfighting the Sumo colossus.

Does this similarity with fairy tale stories like Jack the Giant Killer and myths like Odysseus mean that…Keith Hackney never did defeat Emmanuel Yarborough? Does it mean that his fight with Emmanuel Yarborough is a fiction, based on fairy tale stories and myths of normal sized  people overcoming giants?

Then why would Jesus’ crucifixion be based on Inanna hanging on a hook?

9.  Went to the underworld?

After he died, Jesus descended into Sheol (In the New testament called “Hades), which was pictured as being in the earth (Acts 2:31, Ephesians 6:8-10, see also Matthew 12:40). This was the Hebrew underworld. Afterwards, Jesus rose from the grave. True, Inanna went to her version of the underworld and returned as well…but so did numerous ancient mythological figures (and even monsters) who are never said by Jesus Mythicists to have striking parallels to Christ.

Hades (who shared the same name as the underworld. He was given charge of the underworld by Zeus, his older brother. He nevertheless rose back to the world of the living for a short time, to kidnap Persephone).

Persephone, as stated above, was kidnapped by Hades, who took her to the Underworld. She was eventually allowed to leave , but before she went she was tricked to each the Pomegranate of death. As a result, she can only stay on the earth for two thirds of every year. The other third, she has to go back to the underworld).

There were several others, such as Orpheus, Sisyphus (  (Had told his wife not to bury him or make offerings to him (customary offerings for the dead) if he passed away. When he did die, he told Hades about his lack of burial and offerings and asked permission to go back to earth to make sure that these things were done. Hades let him go…but when he realized that he had been duped, he dragged him back to the Underworld) , Hermes ( Watched over Hercules while he was in the underworld, but left when Hercules did. He also accompanied the spirits of the dead as they made their journey to the underworld. Being the messenger of Zeus, he would have no doubt sent messages to the god Hades.), Theseus (Theseus (went to the Underworld, was imprisoned by Hades, but Hercules freed him and brought him back to earth) and Cerberus, the three headed offspring of the monsters Typhon and Echidna (the latter half woman, half snake). 

The latter lived in Sicily in one version of her myth, the Peloponnese in another. Thus, Cerberus would have been conceived while on earth, only to be taken to the Underworld to keep its spirits within…only for Hercules to bring it out of the underworld and take it to the ancient Greek city of Mycenae.

Not much of a parallel then. 

Keep in mind: Inanna died while in the Underworld; Jesus died before going there.

10. Dead for three days?

No.

After waiting three days, the goddess Ninshubur (aka Nincubura) went to several gods, pleading for help. She visited Enlil first, but he refused. She visited Inanna’s father Sin/Seun/Nanna next, but he also refused. Then she visited Ea aka Enki, who,  despite being angry with Inanna, agreed to help. 

How long did this take? 

How long was Inanna in the Underworld?

We don’t know. The ancient texts do not say.

Indeed, we have to remember that Ninshubur had to wait three days after Inanna descended into the Underworld before seeking aid, not three days after Inanna died (Inanna didn’t know that she was going to be killed). We don’t know how long Inanna’s journey through the Underworld took, or at which point in those three days that she was killed.

11.  Resurrected?

Yes, but not by her own power.

Ea made two sexless beings and sent them to the underworld, to ease the suffering of Ereshkigal, Inanna’s sister and Queen of the Underworld. When Ereshkigal asked them what reward they would like, they asked that they would be allowed to revive Inanna. This was granted, and Inanna resurrected (though some sources use the word “reborn”), and eventually returned to the upper world.

Inanna’s resurrection is more similar to those in the Bible involving mere humans who were resurrected by God, instead of Christ, who is God incarnate and resurrected…himself.

Not much of a parallel, eh?

Folks, the comparisons between Jesus and Inanna are abysmally weak. Indeed, she oddly enough has more in common with Moses than with Christ (Had a set of law tablets, brought plagues on Sumer (Turned all  the well water into blood, then brought floods, and finally sandstorms. She did this because the Shu-kale-tuda, a gardener’s son and Sumerian, raped her while she was asleep), but these similarities don’t mean that Moses was a fictional character based on Inanna (once again, consider the parallels between Alexander the Great, a historical figure, and Achilles, a mythical one. Recall also the similarities between the Novella “Futility/Wreck of the Titan” and the Titanic disaster, which occurred 14 years later, as well as Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket” and the sinking of the Mignonette. Plus, the differences between Moses and Inanna FAR, FAR outweigh their few similarities.

No, Jesus was not based on Inanna, who was a myth.

Jesus…is real.

Sources: 

“Epics of Early Civilization” by Michael Kerrigan, Alan Lothian, Piers Vitebsky, and Jeremy Black (Consultant), 36-41 “The Ultimate Encyclopedia of Mythology” by Arthur Cotterell and Rachel Storm, 288 (See also 30-31, 47, 51, 74-75, 82-83

https://www.ancient.eu/Inanna/ 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fb4KIFtdRPI&feature=emb_title 

“The Penguin Dictionary of Classical Mythology” by Pierre Grimal, 133, 189, 197-99, 434 UFC 3 DVD

https://www.sherdog.com/news/articles/1/Keith-Hackney-Where-Is-He-Now-30163 

https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0352563/ 

https://www.imdb.com/name/nm1156762/?ref_=nmbio_bio_nm 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gVs4930ERGw&feature=emb_title 

https://books.google.com/books?id=5lmrCQAAQBAJ&pg=PT90&dq=Who+is+Inanna%27s+mother?&hl=en&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwiO-uum7ZHlAhUPiqwKHYDgB-4Q6AEwA3oECAYQAg#v=onepage&q=Who%20is%20Inanna's%20mother%3F&f=false 

https://www.exploratorium.edu/ancientobs/chichen/HTML/caracol3.html 

https://www.history.com/topics/ancient-middle-east/sumer 

“The IVP Bible Background Commentary: New Testament” by Craig S. Keener, 313 “In the Footsteps of Jesus” (A National Geographic Book), by Jean-Pierre Isbouts, 263  

https://www.britannica.com/topic/crucifixion-capital-punishment 

https://threadreaderapp.com/thread/1172309229585125376.html?refreshed=yes 

https://sirtravisjacksonoftexas.tumblr.com/post/628113211750776832/do-supposed-parallels-between-the-gospels-and 

“Encyclopedia of Gods” by Michael Jordan, 114-15  

[9r7g5h]

Remember All - P14

Fandom: Xena: Warrior Princess

Overall Rating: T+ (Rating subject to change)

Genre: General

Summary: Given another chance, left with her memories of their first time through, Gabrielle knows there’s only one option for her- let Xena live. Whatever she had to do, whatever she had to change to make sure that would happen, Gabrielle was willing to do it.

Words: 2,977

AN: Shhhhh, I know distance and travel times were a real thing and in reality it would be a little over a month for the same travel time, but shhhhh. Xena bends the laws of physic all the time, she can bend the laws of geography as well. Also, sorry for the short chapter. I’m dealing with Irma, and kept getting distracted I’m not sure if I’ll lose power or not (hopefully no), but if I do and I don’t update for a while, that’s why. I hope you guys enjoy this for what it is!

Disclaimer: I do not own Xena.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, ???  

They didn't stay long. The moment Gabrielle's wounds were treated Xena broke down camp, her movements quick and efficient as she packed. She only paused every few moments to glare at Gabrielle when she tried to help, just silently pointing back towards the single bedroll she was leaving untouched, the command clear in her movements.

Gabrielle gave in and laid back down, allowing her eyes to slide shut for the little while Xena worked. When Xena was finally done, everything packed and once again on Argo, the fire a smoldering pile of ashes, she gently woke her and helped her up into the saddle, sitting in front so Xena's arms could wrap around Gabrielle's waist. Tying the last of their things on, Xena mounted up behind her, carefully turning Argo towards the clear path that would take them to the port city, thankful for the moon that lit their way.

"Try and get some sleep if you can, Gabrielle," Xena said, one hand pressing against Gabrielle's temple until Gabrielle's head laid on her shoulder, an almost pillow if not for the armor. "We have a long few days ahead of us."

Gabrielle didn't respond- even as Xena pushed Argo forward, pushing her as fast as she dared to in the night on the dirt road, the passage bumpy and uneven, Gabrielle still fell asleep. Uneasy, disturbed with half formed nightmares that were terrifying in their familiarity, but still sleep nonetheless.

It was the last official sleep she got, neither she nor Xena willing to stop for more than absolutely necessary. To eat, to check and change her bandages- the longest rests were so Argo could sleep, when her steps became stumbling and her breathing faltering, only continuing to push herself when Xena whispered into her ear, asking for another few miles, another few minutes, until they reached the next clearing or stream. Please, girl, just a little bit more...

And while Argo slept, after she had polished off whatever food the clearing and Xena could offer, still they didn't sleep. Instead they talked, going over everything Xena needed to know about Hope to destroy her. To make sure, once she was dead, that she could never return.

No fire- her father's element was fire, and while the flames would destroy her, she would only return from the ash. She was scared of Xena- why, Gabrielle couldn't be sure, but she was. There was no reason, for in the last world Hope had been protected by Ares' request of the Fates, and Hope had known that for Xena to kill her would mean her own death. Perhaps because this world had no promise, had no Ares to insure she would be safe, the god remaining absent this life? Gabrielle wasn't sure, but it was a fact she knew, so she told it to Xena.

She told her everything she knew about Dahok, about his followers, about the Priest of the Blood and the Priest of the Flesh, about the Destroyers Hope would bear into the world. About the destruction to come and the hell this world would live through if they failed. Gabrielle spend those few short hours while Argo rested to tell Xena everything she knew.

All while Xena listened intently, the dark circles growing darker under her eyes with each passing day but remaining unnoticed as Xena listened and prepared.

They took turns dozing in the saddle while Argo ran, light little naps that kept them awake enough to continue on, to push forward towards the port city. There, it would be at least a week on a boat to get them to Greece- they could catch up on their rest then, recover from the push this last flight from Britannia was costing them. Luckily the road remained clear- while they came across evidence of Romans, none tried to fight them, and the remains of camps they found were old, hurriedly broken down so the troops that had rested in them could move on. Whatever Boadicea was doing to keep the roads clear for them, it was working.

For a week they traveled like this, pushing and pushing and pushing- much like they had when they had had Eve, Gabrielle realized in a hazy blur as she controlled Argo, Xena's forehead pressed against her shoulder as she took a snort nap. Much like they had when the gods had tried to kill their child, forcing them to flee as quickly as the world could allow.  

For a moment she was confused- where was Eve? Why were they on a single horse, where was their child?- until with a shake of her head she remembered, the solidarity moment of panic enough to drive out the exhaustion weighing on her mind and limbs, bringing her back to reality. A reality that stank of fish and the sea as Argo climbed to the top of the final hill that overlooked the city they had been heading towards.

It was quiet, calm and peaceful- beautiful in its own way. A simplicity that hung over the town, creating an illusion of a safe harbor for travelers, those by land and sea alike, until the next stage of their journey. It was their return home, the rest that could only be offered by a ship at this point, and seeing it, Gabrielle, as much as she hated the sea, couldn't say it wasn't loved.

Xena stirred after a moment, blinking away the sleep, wincing as she sat up- it was the only position that worked, hunched over to use Gabrielle as a pillow, but it always left her sore after. Rolling her shoulders to work out whatever kink had grown there, one hand leaving where it had rested on Gabrielle's hip to wipe the sleep from her eyes, Xena stared out over the city as well, though it was a different prize her eyes were searching for. Nodding, she pointed off to the right, where the larger ships were waiting.

"There,” she said, pointing towards the largest of the ships, its masts tall and proud. “A Thessalonian trading ship. They’re sure to stop by Athens, and we can disembark there. From there it’s only a few days to the centaur village.” Without waiting for Gabrielle to reply Xena reached around her and took the reins, kicking Argo into a slow, steady trod- they would be hard pressed to have her do more at this point, she was so exhausted. Her head low, her steps trodden; it was only her love for them that kept Argo from bucking them off and refusing to stay with them, a love Gabrielle was grateful for.

It didn’t take long before they reached the city proper, the sun still in the process of actually rising as they stumbled in. Immediately Xena slid off of Argo, reaching up to help Gabrielle down to her feet- while her wound had avoided infection, it still wasn’t healing, the gash still long and large down her back, leaving her aching and sore and only partly able to function on her own. A worrisome development, though Xena tried to deny it. Whenever she changed the bandage, she pointed out that the lack of sleep could delay healing, smearing a new layer of poultice over the wound before rewrapping it, firmly trying to believe her own lie.

Gabrielle was sure it had something to do with Hope. The monster couldn’t leave a mark on her like she had in the last life, so she had found some other way to do so.

“Go get us some supplies while I go talk to the captain,” Xena ordered, glancing over towards the little market that was just starting to open up, stall vendors appearing in a sleepy haze to begin peddling their wares. “And get Argo something nice.” She gave the horse a quick pat, leaning up to whisper something in Argo’s ear. When Argo neighed in response, shaking her head, Xena gave a small, soft smile before turning towards the docks, heading directly towards the boat she had pointed out before.

It didn’t take long to restock their supplies, most of the merchants eager for a sale (even with one as haggled as she made it), with the few who put up too much of a fuss quickly folding under her glare, none of them willing to fight against the clearly exhausted, clearly dangerous woman standing before them. One even threw in an extra apple for free, the man almost shaking in his boots, a treat she quickly passed off to Argo, who ate it gratefully, nuzzling her shoulder in thanks when she was done.

That task finished, Gabrielle couldn’t help but begin to wander, the strange city familiar from her memories.

The inn Xena had settled her while she went to get safe passage for them both, where the kindly inn keep had kept her well stocked with food without a complaint. The pier she had clambered onto after the inn had been burned, where a mob had waited. In the distance, just back where they had come, the forest where the Knights lived.

Part of her wondered if they were still there. If they knew about Hope this time, if they had tried to kill her, if the one who had died at Hope’s hands before still lived, or if some other fate had taken him. Part of her was curious, almost curious enough to suggest, when she found Xena, that they go check. See who was there, what help they might be able to offer, any resources they might be able to pass on to them.

Instead she shook her head and put the thought out of her mind. The knights had proven almost useless last time in fighting the banshees- how would they help with Hope. And besides, going to check out a ruin from her previous past was why they were in this mess. No need to keep tempting the Fates when she didn’t need to.

She found Xena just as she was finishing haggling with the captain, their handshake firm and strong as they happily accepted the terms they had reached. Glancing towards the ship, Gabrielle tilted her head to the side in question, handing off the reins to Xena so she could take control of Argo.

“Come on,” Xena said with a small, tired smile, jerking her own head towards the gangplank. “I ended up knowing the captain. He owed me a couple of favors. Got us a private cabin, and a stall for Argo below deck.” Together the three of them boarded the ship, a young boy, barely fifteen by the look of him, hurrying over to take the reins from Xena.

“Take good care of her, you hear,” Xena said, her voice taking on that sharpness that had the boy straightening, a flicker of something in his eyes as he nodded. Reaching into their money pouch, Xena pulled out a dinar and pressed it into his hands, shifting slightly so the others jingled against her hip. “Make her happy, and there’s more where that came from.” A look of greed joining everything else on his face, the boy nodded and gave a sloppy salute before turning, gently tugging Argo after him, asking her if she had a fondness for carrots.

Their own room was small, just enough room for two hammocks to be strung side by side from the ceiling, a single port window their only view into the outside room. But after the week they had had, it was glorious.

They barely spoke, taking just enough time to drop their bags in one corner, for Xena to check Gabrielle’s back and for the two of them to share a quick, exhausted kiss before climbing into their respective hammocks- Xena taking the one by the door, always on alert even as she fell asleep, Gabrielle by the open window, where the cool sea breeze could soothe her already gurgling stomach. Not that it mattered; within a short moment they were both asleep, finally truly asleep for the first time in a week.

It was deep, deep and dreamless, and for that, Gabrielle was thankful.

For the week they rested, recovering from their push. When they weren’t sleeping or devouring half the ship’s food supplies, they spent their time on deck, talking. Sometimes about nothing, sometimes about Hope, Gabrielle continuing to fill Xena in on everything she needed to know, on all the information Gabrielle had gathered from her “visions” that might help to end her for good in this life. Sometimes they said nothing, just stood staring out over the water, their sides pressed together as they watched the waves below. Part of Gabrielle wanted to fill those silences, perhaps use them to begin explaining the nature of their world to her, but instead she accepted and relished them, enjoying the small peace. While things would be different, still there would be little of it to come.

Her back still didn’t heal. A fact that had Xena pursing her lips, an almost angry look as she cleaned the skin and rebandaged her back, a look of her deep in thought as she wondered.

For a week they continued like this, their strength returning as the ship sailed towards home, the hull empty and the sailors ready to see their homelands, purses heavy with coin. It had been a long time, one of the sailors mentioned to Gabrielle when she asked about his past when he came to join her by the railing, since any of them had seen home. A sentiment Gabrielle could attest to.

It was peaceful, it was quite, and for a week, even with her stomach churning, Gabrielle liked the sea.

Almost to the point where she wished it could just be like this. The ocean, the sky, the two of them with the occasional sailor for a new conversation; whatever evil that waited for them perpetually off in the distance. Always at peace, always safe, the smell of salt and the clean, constant breeze helping to soothe her mind even if it did make her back sting when it sunk through the bandage and touched the still open wound. It was such a small price to pay for everything else, to the point where Gabrielle almost wished it could be like this forever.

But all too soon they reached Athens, the city growing on the horizon. All around the sailors yelled out in excitement as the vague blur began to grow, becoming more and more distinct as they grew closer. A few even began to sing, a song of land and home and long missed wives and children. Of love and excitement and the slightest hint of bitter, because even though these men were glad to be home, part of their hearts did belong to the sea. Belonged to the ocean and longed for it even when they were in the arms of their loved ones, a longing that, eventually, would pull them back. Pull them back and take them back out to the edge of the horizon, to the vast, unending blue until, finally, they were once again longing for home. A continuous cycle, until they either died by the sea or were buried on land, forever parted from one part of their life or the other.

Everything contained within that song, the words that were quickly picked up by the other sailors and even Xena as they worked towards reaching the shore, the song picked up by the wind and almost twisted into something unearthly, ethereal, the pure joy only just darkened. Only Gabrielle stayed quiet, the words unknown and foreign to her as she pulled on ropes and tied knots, the handful of weeks in their past life they had spent on ships letting her help. But she listened, listened and memorized as much as she could for later, making a mental note to ask Xena later for the rest.

It was a good song, and even if she couldn't sing it, she could write it so others could sing it later.

They were almost the last ones off the ship when it finally docked, standing off to the side while the sailors all called to their captain, joking about when the next trade was to take place, taking them from their homes once more. The boy who had been taking care of Argo came up eventually, once the others had cleared out, giving Argo actually enough room to be on desk without risking her bumping anyone overboard. And it was clear he had done a good job- Argo walked with her head high, her steps quick and purposeful, eyes gleaming with a barely contained energy. Her coat had been well brushed, her stomach was ever so slightly rounder then it had been (an addition of a few extra pounds that Xena glanced at before raising her eyebrow, an amused look on her face as Argo shook her head), and her tail and mane had even been braided, little colorful strands of string holding the ends of the braids together.

The boy got a handful of dinars for his troubles, his eyes wide as Xena paid him- it was perhaps almost as much as he had gotten for the months he had been on board, and he thanked them profusely before giving Argo a quick kiss on the snout and racing off the ship, heading straight towards what Gabrielle had to image was home.

Xena thanked the captain one last time, paying him the remainder of what they owed, and then they were off. Slow at first, skirting the townsfolk as quickly as they could without hurting anyone, and kicking into a canter the moment they were free. Straight towards the centaur village.

Which, by the time they reached it a few days later, was nothing but ash.

[365runesofthesystem]

NM Road Trip Hell of Courting Prompto!!

Yes, I love that. Probably gonna do a tag for it. Already did. BOOM.

But please enjoy and it is on AO3 as well.

Fandom: Final Fantasy XV / Relationships: Noctis/Prompto /

Tags: Prompto. Noct. REcognizing, Ignis, Gladio, Game of Hide-n-Seek, Fishing, Camera Loss, Poor Prompto, Poor Noct. Late Nights

Chapter Nineteen: In Recognition, There’s Always Hell.

Everything had been going well.

They had managed to get back to Hammerhead, get the Regalia, Noct even got to drive for a bit before Ignis decided that neither him nor Prompto were allowed to touch the wheel and they had gotten to Galdin Quay.

They got reserved at a hotel, managed to get their potion stock good from their disaster and actually managed to handle some hunts that didn’t leave them half-dead.

It was a good day.

But because the Astrals ha something against him - or someone - the day instantly went off a cliff in the matter of a few minutes.

It had happened when they entered the ocean-side cafe.

Two girls were walking out, their teenage years shining through with their loud voices and even louder fashion sense.

Noct was already pretty sure he could grab a headache from them passing.

They had walked through, casual clothing for the trip so no one would spot Noctis out and about and decide to kill him with love or hate.

Prompto ha opened the door, swinging around and winking at the girls, bowing with the door open in a flourish. Everyone had waited, the girls giggling as they nodded a thanks to Prompto and looked at the rest of the group.

One girl caught Noct’s eye, her face smiling for a second before confusion began to set in.

Noct saw it, knew it for what it was, and instantly ducked inside the place, passing everyone and making a beeline for the bar area.

Prompto plopped down next to him, Gladio and Ignis beginning to order.

“Dude, what was that?”

Noct looked back, seeing the girls move on down the road, and sighed, laying his head down on the bar.

“Nothing. Just a little paranoid I guess.”

Prompto nodded, patting his head and glancing back too.

“There there, princess. Why do you think Gladdy Daddy is here?”

Gladio must have shot him a look because Prompto waved someone off, his face smiling brightly.

After a moment, his slapped his back, getting up and pushing Noctis off his place.

“Come on, time to eat.”

They moved to a booth farther away from the entrance, Noct sliding in first and Prompto sliding in next to him with Ignis and Gladio on the other side.

Their food came relatively quick and soon Noct had almost completely forgotten about the girl, picking out the vegetables from his burger and handing them to Prompto, who took them willingly.

And then the girl was back, her phone out as she searched the diner, her eyes falling on Noct’s once again.

Recognition lit up her face as dread hit Noct like a punch.

H swallowed, his appetite instantly gone.

Ignis cleared hit throat, pushing Gladio out of the booth as Prompto grabbed Noct’s hand and pulling him out behind him, already making his way to the back door.

Gladio and Ignis weren’t following and Noct knew that they were probably just waiting for the girl to stop her and explain the situation.

Somewhere in the world, the gods were laughing at him as he heard the girl scream,

“WAIT PRINCE NOCTIS!”

Prompto threw open the door pushed them both threw, slamming it close just as the cafe broke out into chaos.

-

It took five hours, the sun setting, Prompto throwing out at least five cameras, and the group going through the longest game of hide-and-seek that Prompto never wanted to play ever again.

And he was almost sure that every single part of his clothing was filled with sand.

Just my luck

It landed them hiding under the pier in one of the more lonely place of Galdin Quay, the location meant more for silent fishers than rowdy tourists.

Both Prompto and Noctis were hunched over, gulping in the sea air, Prompto looking at his screen, reading the last text he got from Ignis.

“It would seem as though me and Gladio are being watched. We got to the hotel but Gladio is currently taking care of the tag-a-longs. It would be best to find your own lodgings for the evening or at least wait a while longer before returning.”

Prompto sighed, stuffing his phone into a pocket before looking over at his friend.

“Seems Iggy is still playing mouse for us. Plus. Though, we no longer have a room to sleep at. Minus. So good news is we are still at a neutral Zero,”

Noct groaned, his body slouching more but not totally giving up to the sand.

Prompto patted his back, giving his friend a moment before looking out.

The moon was already shining, the sky is a deep blue with a few stars pushing out and shining.

It was beautiful, despite everything else.

He reached for his camera, realizing a minute too late that he ha used it to throw at one of the paparrazi that had gotten too close to his friend.

“Sorry.”

Noct came up, his face a deep frown, his eyes completely bathed in remorse.

It broke Prompto’s heart, seeing his friend so down.

Because of him.

He smiled, waving him off as he grabbed his phone.

“Dude no worries. I have no regrets.”

Noct sighed.

“You better not. You almost hit the guy with that throw. I am sure your camera is very offended.”

“Pfft, no way man. All its idea. We totally planned it.”

Noct chuckled softly, his breath coming out as a bare laugh as he shook his head and Prompto counted that as a win.

He snapped a photos, sending them to Ignis with a thumbs-up and too many emojis that he knew Ignis would enjoy.

He nodded and turned back to Noct.

“So what to do now?”

Noct shrugged, his smile disappering as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. After a second, he frowned, slowly taking them out, bits of sand coming out with them.

“Somewhere without sand?”

Prompto chuckled.

“Come on! It is part of the fun! The aesthetic! Galdin Quay! The only place you can get covered in sand without being on the beach!”

Noct made a face, his mouth twitching back into that smile but not quite getting there.

“I can do without the aesthetic. Maybe instead we can get a room somewhere? Take a bath?”

Prompto frowned, patting his pockets.

“Sorry dude. Unless you wanna use the emergency fund? I’d say we wait to go back to the hotel.”

Noct groaned.

“Then what do we do!?”

Prompto thought for second, before his eyes caught something on the water.

A string was reflecting the moonlight, shining as Prompto found the red ball bobbing in the water.

He smiled, looking back at Noct.

“Dude, I got it.”

Ten minutes later, they were both on the pier, Noct’s fishing supplies taken out from the storage whatever and out in front of him, the man checking his rod and string as Prompto sat a bit away, his legs hanging from the pier.

A man, who had just given the boys a quick nod, was the only other person there, more than willing to just stay and fish.

Noct sighed in contentment, his eyes looking out for a minute before he prepped and then cast, his line hissing through the air before hitting the water with a tiny bloob.

Noct sat, his mind already in fishing mode.

Prompto watched, keeping one eye on Noct and another on the pier, making sure no one decided to remember the hunt and come after him.

He turned back, looking over Noct again when he saw it.

That tiny smile that even Prompto rarely saw was ghosting his face, the moonlight hitting it just right. His eyes were bright with excitement and pure joy for doing something he loved, especially after the hell day.

It filled Prompto with that sickly sweet feeling, the one that filled his heart, warmed his cheeks and made him break out into a smile.

It was the perfect look for him.

Prompto slowly brought up his phone, taking a burst of photos as he stared at him.

Just my luck

-

Ignis woke up to ten different text messages, all from none other than Prompto.

Five of them showed different fish that Noct had managed to catch, both of the boys’ faces filled with excitement and tired joy.

Each caption had the simple question: Do you think you could cook this Iggy?

After that was one of Noct falling asleep while fishing, one of Prompto getting a selfie with the sunrise, one of them in some hole-in-the-wall diner, with coffee and the caption: One the house! And two of random things Prompto must have felt the need to photograph.

Ignis sighed, letting the smile sit as he ran through the pictures one more time, looking over to where the boys slept, cuddling against one another. The last message was sent just two hours ago, putting them at just barely knocking out before Ignis rose for the day.

He shut his phone, his mind going through the adjustments they would need for the day, giving them a few more hours of sleep.

Just this once.