#the way he denied it killed me especially with his cousin laughing on the side 😭😭

[ikram1909]

https://x.com/acenthuziast/status/1838317486917456013

flick truly signed on to be a babysitter im crying

He's the father that stepped up!!!

[tommyspeakycap]

I love your work! I was wondering if you’d be willing to write something about (toddler) baby Shelby having Alfie help her bake a cake for Tommy

omggggg that’s so so cute!!

A Bakers Help

The burly Camden Town ‘baker’ was nothing short of completely shocked when he heard a soft banging on his office door in the mid afternoon. His eyebrows had furrowed and he had kept his hand readily on his weapon so he was prepared in the event of an enemy being on the other side of the door. He was surprised to say the least when he tugged open the door and had to look down multiple inches to spot she who knocked on the door.

There stood a little girl. One he knew fairly well but who’s appearance outside his office was still a shock. That little girl was notorious around most of England, especially in heavily gang populated territories where the “Shelby” was a household name and everybody who knew that name knew the littlest member of the family was something akin to a jewel in Tommy Shelby’s crown. Alfie had been curious as to whether or not she was actually attached to Thomas Shelby’s hip in consideration to how much time she spent right by his side, teetering along on little legs so he knew she was safe right by his side. It wasn’t often that Tommy entrusted others to watch over his youngest sister, so it would be safe to say that Alfie was incredibly confused.

“Good morning.” The little girl greets, her lips plastered with a bright smile as she lifts a hand to wave at him. Alfie braces himself on either side of his doorway with strong hands so as to lean out of his office to look out into the ‘bakery’ to both the left and right before stepping back in. “Mhm yes it was actually. Where’s your brothers?” He asks, turning his eyes back to the girl in the doorway who fights to pull her wool coat back up from falling off her arms due to the fact it hadn’t been buttoned up. The girl shrugs, “Dunno...Can I come in?” She asks politely, “It’s very cold.”

Alfie Solomons squints his eyes and forms a crease between his brows, but even he can’t deny the chill in the winter breeze through the unheated factory and the shivering of the child, and so he steps to the side and gestures her in the door. Alfie hums, or maybe something more akin to a grumble, in thought as the five year old wanders around his office to take in the whole surroundings. “And where are your pikey brothers then yeah?” His voice rumbles deep and gravelly the same way it always does, not missing the chance or thinking twice about dropping an insult to the Shelby men as he speaks. The youngest of the clan shrugs her little shoulders. “Dunno,” she says again, “I’m with Ada. Told her i was going out to play.”

The words most definitely do worry Alfie Solomons after the girl with Tommy Shelby’s striking blue eyes and his heart in the palm of her tiny hand finishes speaking flippantly. It occurs to him that she’s simply too young to understand both risk and consequence. She knows that Tommy Shelby dotes on her like the little princess he believes her to be. She knows he loves her, he tells her every day. However, Alfie knows the far darker side to that love. He’s heard of people brutally murdered with remains unidentifiable after coming close to her, and although Alfie has no desire to harm a child who probably doesn’t even understand what it is the rest of her family do when she’s not around, that doesn’t reassure him even in the slightest that Tommy, Arthur, Ada and John Shelby along with Polly Gray wouldn’t rip him to shreds if they knew their little princess was stood in his office for whatever reason.

“Right,” Alfie states, “Better get you home then,” He strides easily towards the door to hold it open, but the little girl simply quirks one eyebrow and remains where she stands. “It’s Tommy’s birthday soon.” She declares, looking up at the hardened London gangster as if he poses no threat nor fear to her in the slightest bit. She smiles at him, big and bright. She didn’t know him. She didn’t know if he was violent, didn’t know if he was supposed to be scary. She just knew she had met him before, he was relatively funny as the 5 year old obviously did not pick up on the thinly veiled threats hiding beneath the verbal back and forth between her favourite brother and the man she stood with now, and more importantly than anything; she knew he was a ‘baker’. “You need a cake on your birthday, you know.” She adds very matter of factly, and Alfie Solomons doesn’t fight the little grin he gives. “And you’re a baker, so you can make good cakes. I need you to help me make Tommy’s cake for birthday cake time on Saturday.”

There’s virtually no way this little girl had just come up with this by herself. The way she acts, her generosity, her sweetness and her absolute insistence of cake for her brothers birthday was not something she had adapted by herself. Children don’t just come up with these things. That thought, for Alfie, means that those who have raised her have drilled a certain kindness into her. Thomas Shelby has raised his little sister to be the kind of kid who will find a man she thinks is a baker just because her brother told her he was, so that he can help her make a cake. That makes Alfie want to laugh. Tommy Shelby acts the part, but Solomons now knows he’s the type who taught a little girl about the importance of cake and birthday fun.

“Fine.” Alfie responds, out stretching his arm to gesture the little girl out into the factory. He did actually have a designated area for the ‘bakery’ just in the event that someone came looking or investigating and he needed to show there was actually a bakery there. He was thankful for that now, because he got the feeling that there was little to no chance he would have gotten away from the very very persistent little Shelby trailing behind him. It becomes apparent very quickly that little (y/n) will have no luck when it comes to seeing what was going on up on the counter, considering she wasn’t even nearly the same height as it, never mind tall enough see over it. Alfie has to get creative in that respect, eyes flicking around until they lands on a a stack of crates that he grabs a couple of to pile them next to the counter so that the youngest Shelby can contribute as she pleased to the cake making.

All things considered, Alfie was actually a fairly good baker. He didn’t come up with the idea of a bakery to cover his illegal business work for no reason. He knew he could bake if it was necessary (which it sometimes was to smuggle alcohol), so this ask from the little girl who had a list of ingredients and an exact image of how she wanted this cake to look, wasn’t a huge task for him.

In the process of the bake, Alfie learned a lot. He learned that little Shelby couldn’t quite pronounce her L’s (which Tommy was apparently working on with her), so she called him Afie. He learned that Tommy’s favourite cake was vanilla sponge, which was why it was a four tier vanilla sponge with extra strawberry jam that his sweet little sister had chosen. He learned that the little girl got here by very discretely tripping up her cousin, Karl, so that Ada was preoccupied giving him a plaster for his knee and stopping his tears and (y/n) snuck off from Ada’s London home in the direction she felt like she remembered Tommy going when he had taken her to Alfie’s bakery once, albeit leaving her in the car with Arthur and John. She had to ask for directions from confused strangers a few times, but ultimately she found the place on her own. Alfie learned that little Shelby talks a lot. She’s very clever, can follow instructions a lot better than most children of a similar age. It had become increasingly clear she didn’t see any problem with talking about the fun things she did with her brothers. The way Arthur and John like to throw her about to hear her giggles, how Tommy tucks her in every single night that he can. How he tickles her, how he still carries her around even though her aunt Polly protests it. How good her aunt Polly’s cooking is. How much she loves her family. She sees no problem with divulging these soft family moments, although Tommy would probably be absolutely appalled that people knew these things about him and his brothers. It made the head of the Peaky Blinders seem so incredibly mundane.

Alfie could see now why that sweet girl was so loved and held so dear by the family. He also had to wonder if she truly was one of them. She was funny and bright, she giggled with him and babbled on about sorts of rubbish. Alas, she was bossy as Thomas himself. She was loud like Arthur, sarcastic as John, self assured as Polly, as independent as Finn and opinionated as Ada. She made sure to tell Alfie exactly how to stack the first layer while she mixed ingredients for the next layer and he was kept on a very short leash, reminded every so often that he was not to dip his fingers in any of the mixtures and leaning over as he worked to tell him Tommy liked more jam than what Alfie had put on.

“Wait!” She yelps out, leaping off the makeshift kitchen stool made from those bottle crates to chase after Alfie until she reaches the man who was carrying the cake towards a box. “Finishing touches,” she insists, ever so slightly dusting the cake with powdered icing sugar to give a final decorational appearance. Alfie smiles subconsciously as the small girl stands back with a proud grin, turning her eyes to man holding the cake, “Thank you Afie,” she beams, her cute little way of saying his name never lost on him as his heart flutters. “Welcome, baby Shelby.” He responds as he slips it into the cake box he’d ordered one of his men to go and get without question.

Alfie was certain he would step outside his bakery and London would be burning. He expected to have Shelby’s killing people on the streets searching for their baby, their sweet little princess. He assumed (and rightly so) that Ada hadn���t told Tommy that she had absolutely no idea where his most precious little love was for genuine fear of his reaction and so she had mobilised some friends and acquaintances she had made while in London to try finding her little sister. Albeit they were evidently unsuccessful and absolutely no one expected little (y/n) to be baking with Alfie Solomons for her gangster brothers birthday because she just loves him so.

Ada literally burst out the front door frantically when she saw the car headlights pull up outside her house, wrapping herself tightly in her coat as Alfie Solomons lifts her little sister down out of the car. The 5 year old stands innocent as ever next to the man who Tommy never truly knows if he can trust or not as he reaches back into the car to lift out a white cake box with two strong hands. “Better keep a closer eye on this one yeah?” He gestured his head to (y/n) who runs towards Ada and jumps into her open arms to be squeezed incredibly, almost painfully tightly. “Never run off like that again!” She hisses, her concern and anxiety clear behind her words as she speaks into her sisters soft hair, stroking it with her hand for some form of reassurance.

“Sorry Ada,” she hums cutely in response, “We made Tommy a cake though, for his birthday!” Ada let’s go of (y/n) and turns to the little girl. “Go inside and find Aunt Pol, i’ll be in shortly.” She says as she eyes Alfie Solomons with the stoney faced glare he assumes she learned from Polly Gray and her often stoney resolve. “Bye bye Afie!” The 5 year old chimes, scuttling up to him to wrap her arms around his legs for a moment before turning and running off with a wave at the doorstep with Alfie a little bit to stunned by how kind she was to him despite the bad man he was to do much else than wave after her. “You,” Ada snipped, cutting him out of his thoughts and crossing her arms firmly over her chest, “Baked a cake with my little sister?” Her words leak with confusion, eyebrows furrowed with her head tilted in question as she continues to be unable to think of any reason why Alfie Solomons hadn’t turned the little girl away or even used her as a bargaining chip with threats of harm to the child if Tommy didn’t do as Alfie wanted. Instead he baked with her a cake for Thomas and she was returned without a bump, not even a hair on her head harmed. He had returned the little Shelby who was uncharacteristically clumsy for a Shelby without her falling off of anything, burning herself on any ovens or accidentally eating something she was supposed to.

“Yeah.” Alfie responds, shrugging his shoulders at the same time. Ada steps closer to him to try in some way to read what he’s not saying, her heels clicking with each step. “And you want nothing for it?” She presses, her eyes narrowed as he shrugs. “Birthday gift innit yeah?” He grumbles, handing the cake to Ada. “She’s the best of you lot,” he states firmly as he turns his back to climb back into his car, “Keep her that way yeah?”

Ada’s frown turns to a soft smile as she nods, watching as Alfie Solomons pulls his door shut firmly and turns on his ignition.

“Mr Solomons, Oi!” She calls after him, forcing him to roll down his window to hear what she has to say. “Thank you.” She breathes, “For looking after her and bringing her home. And for the cake.” Alfie nods his head in acknowledgment. Ada isn’t sure what else to say. She still feels fairly nauseous at the fact her little sister was missing for virtually the whole day and littered with further nerves at the fact Tommy would be around to pick her up in a half hour and it wasn’t like little Shelby to keep quiet about anything, especially not when it came to Tommy and especially when it came to her adventures that her favourite brother hadn’t been part of, so assuredly she would let him know all about her baking day with Alfie after the cake was revealed tomorrow afternoon for his birthday. Alfie knew this too and he imagined he’d get a visit from the head of the Peaky Blinders relatively soon after he found out.

Tommy would probably be as confused as Ada as to why Alfie looked after little (y/n) the way he did. Alfie couldn’t even really explain it himself, she just warmed up his heart and the sweet little girl showed Alfie truly why Tommy loves that little girl so much. She brings laughter and happiness and fun. She brings light into a very, very dark life and Alfie appreciates that dedication Tommy had to keeping her safe a lot more now. He himself now had a soft spot for the kid and there was a part of him that knew for a fact he too would be making sure no one in his circle was breathing words of harming that little girl who had promised she would bake with him again, and had his birthday written on her hand so she could bake for his birthday.

Maybe the Shelby’s weren’t so bad after all.

[from-a-reckless-writer]

Can you do a little supercorp one-shot based on the song Classy Girl from The Lumineers please?

“Don’t even think about it,” Winn mutters to Kara before taking a swig of his beer. They were leaning against the bar counter. It was a crowded night, Kara had never been at this side of the city before,  the air thick with that usual smell of sweat and cigar smoke. 

“W-what? I wasn’t even doing anything, what are you talking about?” Kara protests although her face screams guilty, as if she and Winn had had this conversation a million times before and she had been caught a million times before. 

“You’ve been staring at her like you wanna devour her. Trust me she’s not the girl you want on your list of conquests.”

“Lists of conquest?! Wha-?! I. Do. Not. Have. A list of conquests, Winslow,” Kara scoffs out, irritated that, yes,  they are indeed having this conversation again. 

“Lucy, Siobhan, Imr-” 

“Shut up, Winn.”

“Thought so,” Winn retorts, but Kara is still pointedly staring not even trying at subtlety, 

“But I’m serious, Kara. Not her.”

“Why not? Who is she, anyway?”

“Lena.”

“Mm. Pretty name for a pretty face, who is she, Winn?” 

“She’s a Luthor, Kara.” 

At that, Kara’s eyes snap back at her and Winn feels a bit of relief at the slightest sign of interest in his warning. 

“She’s Lex’s precious sister, if Lex doesn’t skin you alive himself, Lois probably will.”

“Lois? As in Lois Lane? As in Kal’s Lois Lois? What’s she got to do with it?”

“What do you mean what’s she got to do with it? Kara, Lex almost got Clark killed. You do know that, right?” Winn says in disbelief at Kara’s obliviousness. 

All of a sudden flashes of frantic phone calls from Lois and Martha appear in her mind, Kal bruised and battered, the Danvers immediately taking her away, Eliza mumbling about El’s and Lu-

Luthor. 

Oh. Luthors. Lex, Lena. They’re The Luthors. 

“Oh,” Kara says dumbly. 

“Yes, ‘oh’, now you know. So, don’t even think about it Kara.”

Winn turns around to face the bartender, signaling for another pint while continuing to talk Kara out of a potential disaster.

“How about that waitress earlier? The one who called you hand-”

When he turns around his friend is nowhere to be found and his eyes search the bar in alarm. 

And there, in the far side of the bar—the one spot Kara has been eyeing all night—is his friend slowly sauntering her way through. Headed for one Lena Luthor no doubt. Winn fights the urge to clap a hand to his forehead in frustration. 

***

“Finally found the courage to talk to me?” 

Are the first words tossed at Kara as she comes face to face with Lena Luthor. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Kara says, a charming smile in place. 

“If you don’t pretend as if you haven't been eyeing me all night, I won’t pretend as if I didn’t enjoy having your eyes on me all night.” 

Lena raises a perfect brow at Kara and it’s a miracle that her knees haven’t given out. 

She parts her lips to respond but no words come out and her mind blanks. No lady has ever rendered her speechless before, it was always the other way around. 

“Cat got your tongue, Miss?” Lena purrs, smug smirk growing

“Danvers. Kara Danvers.”

Kara manages to choke out, Lena makes a face at the name as if in recognition. 

“Any relation to Alexandra Danvers?”

Kara tries to hide her shock and fails spectacularly so, of course Lena would know about the Danvers. 

“Sister,” She answers to which Lena says, “I didn’t know Alex has a sister.”

Kara loosens up at that, if Lena knew her as Danvers that means she has no idea she’s Kal’s cousin, no idea Lena’s brother almost killed the only biological family she has left. She doesn’t want the burden of that hanging over them at their first meeting. 

“Adopted,” She clarifies and for a moment she wonders if she should be concerned that all her brain is capable of at the moment are one word answers. 

“Hmm. Well, tell your sister to be more discreet about her,” Lena pauses as if searching for the right word as Kara waits in confusion. 

“-late night activities, especially if she’s going to involve Samantha Arias.”

Kara feels panic when Lena’s words finally click into place, Alex hasn’t even told Eliza about that, she certainly hasn't told Kara. Kara only knew because she made the mistake of passing Alex’s room in the middle of the night, back in Midvale and moans reached her ears, too breathy and too feminine to be a boyfriend. 

“How did you know about that?” Kara asks a bit hostile, when it comes to Alex and she’d do anything even if it means not getting the girl for once, if it meant keeping Alex’s sexuality quiet till she’s ready to tell. 

“No need to be so feisty, darling, Sam is my best friend. And let’s just say Luthors don’t like it when the people they care about are put in complicated situations,” Lena explains and she doesn’t miss the implications of the name ‘Luthor’ next to the phrase, ‘don’t like’.

Kara feels like she should be more concerned about Lena knowing these things especially if they just met, especially with the history between Lex and Clark but she called her ‘darling’ and Kara couldn’t care less about any of that.

“Now, that we got that over with, would you care for a dance?” 

She extends a hand out as her confidence surges again, only for Lena to stare at it, promptly ignore it and throw Kara off her game all over again. 

“Start small, Kara. How about a drink?” she smoothly evades as she hands Kara a bottle of beer, a Kangaroo on the label. 

Kara’s hand wraps around the neck of the bottle firmly, to fight off the longing of Lena’s hands in hers. 

And so, Kara takes her advice and she starts small. Asking Lena all the right questions and successfully avoiding any talk related to their familial background and Lena had never been more grateful. She learns that Lena doesn’t have a favorite constellation, how she writes her name on the first page of all of her books, how she doesn’t do breakfast and Kara realizes she never wants to know a person more than she does with Lena. Maybe, Winn was right. Maybe she really doesn’t want Lena to be just another name in her list of conquests. 

***

Either Kara had never heard of the Luthors before or she simply did not care, Lena did not know what to make of that,  but what matters is that she has never felt this open with another human being before. 

There was a pull when it came to Kara. She felt it the first moment her eyes landed on the blonde only to find her staring back at her. She watched her all night talk to a man, half-afraid that they were something more. But when she caught Kara staring again for the nth time that night—clear intent behind her eyes—Lena’s doubts fell away. 

“Enough about me, how about you? How come this is the first time I’m hearing of another Danvers in town?”

Kara knew they would eventually reach that. When she was thirteen she was whisked off to the Danvers, her family was gone, pain was all she knew, Clark was too caught up in his life and Metropolis was the least safest place to be for Kara. But when things finally quieted down and the Danvers decided to move back to Metropolis, she didn’t come. Deciding to stay in Midvale for college instead. And then finally moving to National City to pursue Journalism. She spent almost 5 years in the glory of being CatCo’s top reporter, only to be called back to Metropolis because of Jeremiah’s frail health. 

“A journalist. I should be wary of you, you know,” Lena whispers their lips a breadth apart, her hands scratching the blonde baby hairs at Kara’s nape, Kara’s hands finding their place on Lena’s hips. Kara finally got her dance and she knows if she leaned in she’d taste the beer on Lena’s lips. 

“There’s nothing to be wary about. I’d never hurt you, Lena.” 

It was such a heavy statement to say considering they’ve only known each other for 4 hours. But there was something inside Kara that says this was right. 

Whatever is happening or is going to happen between them, it’s right. 

That instinct had never failed her as a reporter before, even got her a Pulitzer so, why should she stop listening to it now?

She stares into Lena’s emerald eyes and slowly closes the gap…

Only for her lips to land on Lena’s cheek. 

She turned her face in the last minute! Kara feels the vibrations of laughter roll off Lena. 

Lena slowly tilts her head towards Kara again and Kara doesn’t bother hiding the confusion on her face. 

“What? I’m sorry did I read things wrong? I totally should’ve asked for con-”

Lena removes one hand from the back of her head to press a finger to Kara’s lips. 

“Classy girls don’t kiss in bars, you fool.”

***

“Do you remember the night we met?”

“Mm. Yes, you abandoned Winn for me, he’s still holding a grudge against you for that, did you know? He told me himself.”

Kara laughs and Lena feels more than hears as she presses herself closer to Kara; naked skin to naked skin, sheets sliding and hair messy. 

“Remember what you did that night?”

“No, what?”

“You denied me a kiss because according to you, ‘Classy girls don’t kiss in bars, you fool’.” 

It was Lena’s turn to laugh this time.

“Did I really say that? God, what a pretentious line, I should’ve let you kiss me instead.”

“You know what was running through my head even though you did that?”

“Mmno, what?”

“I thought, the hardest part is over. Like even if I don’t get a kiss tonight, it would be fine. Because I had already met you, I’ve found you and the hardest part is over.”

“That was as pretentious as my line, darling.”

“You love it.”

“I do.”

“Kiss me, Kara.”

[stiltonbasket]

A couple little prompts for the soulmate au: How does the post-resurrection reunion between Wei Wuxian and Wen Ning go? And how would the Twin Jades react to seeing him again and learning the Jins kept him prisoner for years?

the reunion between wwx/wen ning doesn’t differ significantly from canon, so take some twin jades reacting to it!

---

“Xiongzhang,” Lan Wangji entreats, as his brother sits frozen on the floor across from him. “Wen Ning was seen by over a hundred cultivators including myself. I am not mistaken.”

“I was not doubting you, Wangji,” Xichen says quietly, motioning to the open door. Lan Wangji obeys the mute instruction and slides the door shut, sinking down on the mat by the tea table while Lan Xichen stares into his white-jade cup; the ropy scar skirting his brother’s hairline is more evident than ever at this angle, starker and paler than the scar at his breast from Nie Mingjue’s dao, and the sight of it brings Lan Wangji back to Qiongqi Road all over again.

“Jin Guangshan said that Wen Ning had been slain. Burned, and his ashes scattered,” Lan Xichen murmurs. “So that too was a lie.”

Lan Wangji pours him another cup of tea. “What did Lianfang-zun say on the matter?”

“A-Yao? He was not present then, I believe. It was he who discovered Jin Zixun had taken our cultivators, and he sought Jin Zixuan out in the hopes that he could keep his cousin from attacking Young Master Wei. And after he heard that we had been wounded, he came to the Cloud Recesses.”

Though he has little reason to think in such a way, Lan Wangji is rarely sympathetic to his brother’s fondness for Jin Guangyao. If Jin Guangyao had not informed Jin Zixuan about the ambush on Qiongqi Road, Jin Zixuan would never have died, and Wei Ying would have lived; and if he had not obeyed his father’s orders and led a force of Jin cultivators upon the Burial Mounds, Lan Wangji would never have had to stand against them all to protect A-Yuan. And if his own clan elders had not been summoned to bring him back home―again, upon Jin Guangyao’s request―Lan Wangji would not have been forced to fight them off, or submit to the discipline whip to atone for his transgression.

Jin Guangyao might never have intended any of that to happen, but it had happened all the same, and Lan Wangji has never forgiven him for it. He will especially never forget the fact that Jin Guangyao was the one at his brother’s side when Jingyi was born, because Nie Mingjue was dead and buried and Lan Wangji was still too frail after the whipping to leave his bed for longer than ten minutes at a time.

“Wangji?”

“Mm?”

“Where is Wen Ning now?” his brother asks. “You said that he seemed to have lost his intelligence, but perhaps your intended could bring him back again?”

Lan Wangji winces, and the light in his xiongzhang’s eyes dims a little in concern. “A-Zhan? What’s wrong?”

“Wei Ying has not―” His lungs tighten, and he feels a single tear roll down his cheek as Lan Xichen gets up and hurries around the table to clasp his shoulder. “He has not spoken of our betrothal at all. And he has not accepted a single touch or kind word from me, even though he knows I―that I still―that I have never stopped loving―”

His brother’s hands drop back to his sides. “What?”

It takes a while for Lan Wangji to recount the events of the past two days, beginning with how Wei Ying fled from him in Mo Village and then attempted to do so again at the hunt on Dafan Mountain. He skips the part where Jingyi fought with Jin Rulan and silenced him for his rudeness towards Sizhui (the poor child already has a month’s worth of punishments waiting for him, since he should have known better than to push a fellow night-hunter into a cave without knowing what was in it) but then he tells his brother about Wangxian, and how Wei Ying had played it aloud without caring that the song was theirs, before running away and denying his identity until Lan Wangji unmasked him in the jingshi.

“He no longer wants me,” he chokes. “There is no betrothal, Xiongzhang. Not anymore.”

“Did he say so?” Lan Xichen says gently. “Wangji, you must not jump to conclusions before he has spoken. And depending on how long it has been since Mo-gongzi resurrected him, he may not yet have recovered from the time he spent believing that he had killed you.”

“He knows I do not blame him,” gasps Lan Wangji. “The last thing I asked of Wen Ning, that day―I begged him to protect Wei Ying in my stead, and they both heard!”

“Yes, and then he died, after Jin Guangshan raised an army against him in the mistaken belief that we were dead,” his brother reminds him. “Or else he lied outright, since he clearly did not burn Wen Qionglin as he said he did. The first thing we must do is find out what Wen-gongzi remembers of the last sixteen years, and where he was before Wei Wuxian summoned him.”

Slightly shamed by his outburst, Lan Wangji inclines his head. He knows a little of what his beloved must have suffered during the siege, though only through the meager pieces of gossip he heard after Wei Ying’s death; there were no Lan or Nie cultivators at Bu Ye Tian, and even Jin Guangyao could not tell Xichen much because he was tasked with protecting his father instead of pursuing Wei Ying.

“Very well,” he hears himself say. “Wei Ying and I will set out to search for Wen Qionglin after he has rested, and in the meantime I will send A-Yi to give you his report.”

Lan Xichen’s lips quirk up into a smile. “There is no need,” he laughs, before tilting his chin at the door. “A-Yi, baobei, come in. Your shufu and I have finished talking about your conduct at Mount Dafan, so there is no need to worry.”

Lan Wangji barely has time to dodge out of the way before a tall figure in white leaps up the hanshi’s porch steps and into his brother’s arms, dancing from foot to foot like a puppy going out for a walk.

“A-Die!” Lan Jingyi cries, squeezing Lan Xichen around the waist. “I can still go on the winter hunt with the Ouyang disciples, right? I don’t have to miss it?”

“Yes, you can,” Lan Xichen says fondly, giving his son a kiss on the forehead. Lan Wangji hides a small grin behind his sleeves, since he knows that his brother’s punishments never sink in with Jingyi; his xiao-shushu Nie Huaisang has been a very lively influence over these last fourteen years, and his indulgence erased any chance of Jingyi learning Lan discipline almost from the day he was born. “As long as you remember not to go running ahead of everyone else again. Promise?”

“Yuan-ge will keep me in line,” Lan Jingyi promises. “A-Die, you should have seen the way he scolded me for trying to fight that young master Mo.”

Lan Xichen closes his eyes in a silent plea for patience―though it fails to have any effect on Jingyi, because the boy is still happily clasped in his father’s arms―and begins a lecture on the virtues of mildness and thinking before speaking, while Lan Wangji slips out of the hanshi with his mood strangely uplifted by his nephew’s exuberance.

Talk to him, Lan Xichen says wordlessly, gazing at him over Jingyi’s head as he takes his leave. You have your beloved back, after all this time. Do not let this chance go by because of a misunderstanding.

A-Zhan, there will be no second chance for me.

For a moment, Lan Wangji wonders at his tactlessness. When his soulmate died, he had the good fortune to fall in love again and build a life with Wei Ying--and now Wei Ying has returned to his side, after leaving the plane of the living for over a decade and a half.

His brother will never be so lucky, and Lan Wangji refuses to squander the good fortune his xiongzhang would have traded his life for: so he marches right back to the jingshi, and resolves to speak his heart to Wei Ying the moment he opens his eyes.

But his resolve does not last the day, because scarcely two shichen and some change later, Lan Xichen discovers that the demonic arm from Mo Village belonged to Nie Mingjue.  

[jimlingss]

Sugar and Coffee [Finale]

Chapter 22 - Chapter 23 [Finale]

➜ Words: 5.1k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.

cr.

Baking is an art form. It takes more than just having ingredients and following a recipe. It’s the flavour, texture, taste, and the presentation. It’s knowing why when things go wrong and how to fix it. It’s knowing the right kinds of ingredients to pick, how much of each should be combined, what techniques and methods to use. Baking is therapy. Baking is scientific. It is art.   The ingredients are as follows: 

Fresh strawberries

White chocolate sponge cake

Sugar

Butter

Eggs

You place the fresh strawberries into the refrigerator as the stand mixer whips the six large egg whites and two cups of sugar. When it's combined, you place a bowl over a double boiler on the stove and whisk until the mixture is hot. You put it on your stand mixer again until the white chocolate swiss meringue buttercream is stiff. The cubed butter and white chocolate is added shortly after until it's smooth.   Once you’ve got your components prepared, you slice the cooled white chocolate cake into two layers and set the bottom layer on a cake board on the turning cake table. You spread the meringue buttercream evenly with an offset spatula and layer the strawberries.    Afterwards, you put the other chocolate sponge cakes over it and repeat the process.   You finish the white chocolate strawberry swirl cake with white chocolate strawberries on top for decorative purposes and pipe flowers with a twelve inch piping bag.   “It looks fucking incredible.”   Jungkook leans over the counter, peering at the frosted cake you’ve just made.   “It was supposed to be white chocolate raspberry swirl, but I know you like strawberries, so….”   The boy grins, a wide smile that makes his big nose scrunch. “I love it.”   You burst out into giggles. “You haven’t even taken a bite yet!”   Jungkook begins slicing the cake. You’re proud of what you’ve made — but it’s kind of sad at the same time. This is the final product of your portfolio before it's ready for submission. You’re glad it’s over, but it also means your journey here is ending.   It’s November now. And it’s been one whole year since your relationship with Jungkook shifted.    A year ago — when the internship posting went up and you found out he was going to be your partner over the summer. When you were made his exam partner in your fine pastries class. When that Friday night happened and you bursted out crying in the kitchen, and he comforted you to no avail despite it being a cold night where the air bit his skin and turned his cheeks rosy. Where he bought you grape soda for no reason whatsoever other than a poor attempt at trying to make things better.   It seems like it was so long ago, but it’s only been three hundred and sixty days.   It makes you wonder what will happen a year from now or two or ten.   “Not too sweet?”   You watch your boyfriend’s expression carefully. Jeon Jungkook has his brows deeply furrowed with a thoughtful expression like he’s trying to give honest output. His fork is cleaned empty and it lowers to grab another bite.    “It’s perfect.” He melts into a smile. “Maybe you made my sugar tolerance go up.”   “Maybe because I improved.” You loll your head to the side, challenging him. “It’s almost as good as your chocolate-covered strawberry cupcakes, huh?”   Jungkook scoffs lightly. “I wouldn’t go that far, babe, but we can all dream.”   You sulk. “I’ll find out that recipe one day, Jeon. You mark my words and when I do, I’ll profit off of it.”   He laughs, the sound tickling and boyish, causing another smile to rise onto your features. Jungkook digs in, having yet another bite and he lets his teeth rot with the sweetness.    It’s not long before he remembers something, strides away with a hum and returns with a cold tray. “What is it?” you ask curiously as he sets it down and removes the saran wrap.   “It’s truffles. I made it in my art of chocolate class, but it’s an original recipe. Give it a try.”   He pushes the tray towards you and you don’t hesitate to grab a chocolate truffle. You would never, on any planet, deny the opportunity of consuming chocolate, especially when it’s made by Jeon Jungkook. You’ve never said it out loud before, but for some reason he always makes the best.   No grocery brand or chocolatier can beat what he often bakes for you.   So you try not to devour the truffle all in one bite, opting to relish and savour it. You take half of the truffle into your mouth and chew with the same consideration he had for you. And you’re surprised as the deep flavour melts on your palate. “Coffee?”    Your brows furrow and you lick your lips. “Did you put black coffee into it?”   “I was inspired by a memory,” Jungkook says with a soft smile. “What do you think?”   “I love it,” you exhale in awe, finishing the bite and licking your fingers.    It tastes kind of bitter, but it has a sweet note at the end.    It’s bittersweet. But mostly ends up sweet.

Life with Jungkook continues. Lectures and workshops become more hectic the closer the end comes, but in between classes and late nights spent in the kitchens next to ovens, you and Jungkook still find plenty of time with one another. Or at least enough that you still have your dumb debates and have your hour of snuggling — which Jungkook regularly falls asleep during.   The honeymoon phase of your relationship eventually fades away, but luckily it molds into a comfortable pattern that neither of you mind whatsoever. There are still knowing gazes shared across busy rooms, his hand that often comes on your lower back that you find security in, tender kisses shared when the two of you greet each other and bid temporary farewells.    You still love Jungkook very much and you don’t ever find yourself afraid of him leaving you abruptly.    Your relationship becomes normal too, so Yoongi and Taehyung has little to tease you both about. They instead relish in bullying Jimin when he ends up going out with a coworker of his at his new part-time job, much to the shorter man’s dismay.   Hoseok, on the other hand, while no longer in a relationship, finds an interest in teaching and starts to look into what it would take to become an instructor. You’re happy for him and so is Aeri who tells you she’s considering going abroad someday to expand her culinary skills and cook more international cuisine. She keeps herself preoccupied by improving herself and becomes someone worthy of your admiration.   But for the most part, things remain consistent and constant. There’s still bickering over lunchtimes and dinner times across the cafeteria table. Still nights of crashing Yoongi and Hoseok’s apartment and playing games. The five of you also start playing Dungeons and Dragons much to Taehyung’s delight who becomes the dungeon master — and while Yoongi always says he wants to stab himself halfway through every session, you’re sure he enjoys it as much as everyone else does.   The memories made are ones you cherish the most.   And before you know it, graduation has come.   “You look beautiful, dear,” Jungkook’s mom holds back tears as she grasps your hands tightly. “Congratulations.”   “Thank you.”   “Come on, you two!” His dad suddenly calls, holding an old camera up to his chin. “Let’s take some photos to remember the occasion!”   One hand holds your rolled certificate and the other holds your navy gown, you stand in front of the school sign with Jungkook who adjusts his black cap. He drapes his arm over your shoulder and the both of you tilt your heads towards each other and give the biggest grins.   The camera flashes. Again and again.   The corner of your mouth starts moving as your smile twitches. “How many is he taking?”   “Just smile,” Jungkook mutters through his grin as both his parents, his aunt and uncle, Lia and Eunbi, and grandma look on proudly. “He’ll do more if you try to argue.”   “Two more!” His dad shouts, despite taking another five.   His entire family seems so elated that your heart swells with endearment.   “I didn’t know your family would be so happy when you told them we were dating,” you murmur, switching your poses a bit. “You know, your grandma just asked me when we’re getting married.”   “Really?” He glances at you and then scoffs with another smile that’s more genuine. “Be lucky she has half a mind not to start asking when we’re having kids. Unless…...”   “I swear to god, Jungkook, if you get down on your knee in the middle of our graduation with everyone watching, I’m going to kick you in your shin.”   He giggles, nose scrunched, eyes crinkled.    It’s not long before Jungkook’s mother drags over Jimin overbearingly by the hand with Taehyung, Hoseok, and Yoongi for a group photo. There’re so many parents, family members, and phones and cameras being passed around that your plastered smile starts to break on your face. Everyone’s mother and their goddamn cousin’s cousin wants three copies of the same exact picture.   “Oh my god, kill me now,” Yoongi groans but still has that dumb fucking grin on his face. He looks more like a kid showing off his braces or a grandpa who has his dentures stuck.   You think he’s putting on that idiotic grin just to ruin the pictures — even his mom is yelling about it on the sidelines.   “Just a few more,” Jimin whispers with more perseverance than anyone else has.   “Who is even taking our picture, right now?” Hoseok asks, his brows furrowing. “Does anyone even know who that lady is?”   “I think she’s the associate dean’s assistant who’s going to put it on the website.” Taehyung breathes out, his cheeks aching from his smile. “Either that or that’s my cousin’s brother-in-law’s younger sister’s friend.”   “Alright, that’s enough.” Yoongi gives up and walks out of the frame. Everyone starts dispersing before there are protests and they’re rounded up for another pointless photo session.    But after a while, you’re granted some freedom to roam around with Jungkook. There’s still a few more photos taken, ones with Aeri and classmates and teachers, like Miss. Kang, who you always liked.    “I always knew the two of you could be close.” The female teacher has the cheesiest smile and you have to admit, you’re glad she never changed Jungkook’s internship like he wanted. In a way she’s like your matchmaker, but you’ll never say it out loud in case you give her more credit than it’s due. She already seems to know it anyway. “Good luck on your future journeys. You both have great potential.”   Namjoon and Sejeong also show up to congratulate the pair of you as well. And they meet Jungkook’s family who seems to adore the couple straight away, asking plenty of questions of what their shop is like and if their son was in any way helpful.   But while you’d like to stick around to hear all the conversations, it’s nice to take a break from the bustle to just walk on the paths that you used to take all the time with Jungkook.   You don’t know what it’s going to be like when you leave this place.   “Aren’t you kind of sad?” Your hand squeezes Jungkook’s and you turn to look at him.   “Yeah,” he admits. “But I’m also happy we don’t have to submit projects or do exams anymore. I’ll miss the routine. Of being able to hang out with the guys and eat with them all the time. But they’ll still be around and I have you.”   Jungkook’s gaze meets yours. His eyes are tender, soft.   You smile at him. That’s right — this chapter might be ending, but you’ll still have many more with him.   “Y/N!” There’s a call of your name and you turn to see your family waving at a distance. Your mom holds a flower bouquet, most likely for you and your cheeks swell with a smile.   Your arm extended in the air to wave back and your steps quicken with Jungkook’s to meet them.

A lot happens after graduation.   There are many changes and alterations. While you’ll still always be learning until the end of time, you’re no longer an official student and you’re thrown to the hounds called the real world.   But it’s not all that bad.   You get hired back at Kim’s Wedding Cake Company and work with Soohyun who’s returned from maternity leave. Yuna also sometimes joins during the weekends and much to your delight, she tells you that she’s enrolled in the institution as she had wanted. You can only imagine what kind of knowledge she’ll gain and stories she’ll end up having there like you did. But there’s not a lot of time to reminisce when there’s work and a ton to learn, but you find yourself enjoying it more than finding it difficult.   Jungkook, on the other hand, doesn’t return to the company. He instead gets hired at a chocolatier shop not far from where you work. It’s only a ten minute walk down the block; five for each of you when you meet halfway like you frequently do for lunch.   He tells you that he’s learning a lot, on what it takes in the artistry of chocolate, that there’s more meticulousness than what meets the eye. It sounds like an absolute nightmare to you, but he loves it — especially on the days when he smells sweet and there’s some chocolate smeared on his cheeks. And you don’t hate that he often brings you home truffles and caramels to try.   The two of you also move in with each other, sharing an old apartment not far from your workplaces. It’s not much different from how you used to live on campus at different dorms, except now there are bills to be paid and Jungkook steals all the hot water in the shower.   You wonder if this is what it feels like to be an adult.   “Y/N?”   There’s a familiar voice, but one you haven’t heard in ages. A smooth timbre that sounds light and humorous at the corners. You whirl around, regarding the tall man with dark hair, dressed in a dark turtleneck and a black trench coat. His sheepish eyes crinkle in his smile, lips pink and plush.   “Jin?” A grin spreads into your face as well. “Oh my god! How are you? It’s been so long! What are you doing here?”   “I live here, remember,” he reminds in the midst of squeaky giggles. “And I’m good. I’m actually on my way to a meeting. I’m working in management of Toute Pastries and Pâtisseries.”   “Wow, working in commercial bakeries? That’s impressive.”    But you’re not exactly surprised. You knew Seokjin always had it in him and you feel proud that someone you used to know has become so great.   Seokjin laughs. “Not really. It’s kind of less hands-off than I’d like, but what about you?”   “I’m good too. Just heading to my friend’s bakery.” You hitch a thumb over your shoulder. “Today’s the opening. Do you want to come?”   “I’d love to, but the meeting starts in twenty. I saw the sign the other day though. The bakery is that place that was being renovated on Imlingss Avenue, right?”   “Yeah. It’s next to the department store.”   “I’ll swing by when I have some time then.”   “When you have some time?” You eye him playfully and cross your arms. It might be inappropriate to be so sarcastic with an acquaintance, but being with Jungkook has made you more snarky than is probably socially acceptable. “So you’re a hot shot, now, aren’t you?”   Luckily, Jin doesn’t take offence and simply laughs. “I swear I’m not!”   It’s good to see him. You thought you never would again, at least not face-to-face like this. But what you least expected was that your conversations could be so light and natural. It isn’t difficult at all and you don’t find yourself uncomfortable nor holding any resentments. You aren’t sad or angry.   It’s like seeing an old friend again.   “I heard you were with Jungkook,” Jin says with the corner of his mouth quirked. “That’s a surprise.”   “Isn’t it?” Whenever Jungkook used to come up in a conversation, all you ever said to Seokjin was how trash he was. But that was before you really knew anything about him. “But he’s great. An idiot sometimes. But it’s great.”   Jin can see the happiness radiating off your face and it’s infectious. “I’m happy for you, Y/N.”   He says it sincerely, genuinely, and your smile widens. “Thanks.”   The both of you share a little more small talk before you’re on your way. And once farewells are said and done, you don’t look back or peek over your shoulder for another glance at him.    You’re content continuing straight forward.   “Sorry, I’m late.” The door chimes as it slowly shuts after you, the warm furnace heating the air and melting off the coldness of your skin.    “Of course you’d be late.” Yoongi is in his black apron, white shirt rolled up to his elbows and his arms crossed. “We already took the photos, don’t expect that we’ll re-take them.”   “A joy as always, Yoongi.” You smile at him, taking off your jacket and putting it on the coat rack at the corner. Jimin comes to greet you and you sigh softly. “Why’d you ever agree to open a bakery with him, Chim? You must be a saint to deal with his shit all the time.”   “I heard that.”   Jimin laughs. “Trust me, he kept on asking Jungkook when you would come. He’s all bark but no bite,” he whispers but it’s loud enough that Yoongi looks sorely unimpressed.   The shop is cute and spacious. It’s rather modern with square tables and chairs lining the walls. The lights come from the sides of the fancy ceiling, and there’s a counter to check out at with a main glass case where people can choose pastries from. In the corner, there’s also several smaller pastry display cases where patrons can grab trays, tongs and fill up their own plates.    You quickly greet everybody and then move to grab your one prized possession.    “Lemon meringue pie?” Taehyung laughs, watching you put two on your plate.   “You know I just have to.” You smile and sit at one of the tables, luckily having it on the house. Taehyung sits across from you. “Man, you’re so nice to let Yoongi have the entire recipe since it’s yours too.”   He shrugs. “It wasn’t like I had any plans with it in the first place, plus it was Yoongi’s idea to add the secret ingredient.”   “Which is?”   Taehyung grins his infamous boxy smile. “Nice try.”   “I’ll find out one of these days,” you warn. Taehyung handed you the recipe a long time ago but he conveniently omitted the secret ingredient and you haven’t forgiven him since. “And then I’ll be making it for myself every other night instead of giving my pretty penny over to Yoongi and Jimin.”   “Yeah, good luck with that.” He leans back in the comfortable chair. “I’m sure Yoongi will be protecting that from you for the rest of his life. He might be willing to exchange information though if he can get his hands on Jungkook’s chocolate-covered strawberries.”   Taehyung wiggles his brows, but you shake your head with a sigh. “He won’t tell me. I swear he’s holding it above my head so I can never ditch him.”   The man laughs and takes a look around the new shop.   Everyone is here — Hoseok, Jimin, Yoongi, Jungkook, Taehyung, Aeri and you — the entire crew with no one else missing. There are other people as well, sponsors and Yoongi and Jimin’s other acquaintances, but you muse how hard it is these days to gather up like you used to.   Everybody was busy and on their own paths. Doing their own thing. But it’s what made moments like these more precious.   “I would’ve joined them, should’ve,” Taehyung says wistfully with a sigh. “The original plan was actually Jimin, Yoongi, and I.”   “Yeah, but you wouldn’t have been happy.” You take another bite of the pie, chewing in your cheek.   “Yeah, that’s true.”   “Do you regret it? Going back to school?”   “No.” Taehyung smiles gently. “I love learning and I knew after graduation, I wanted to keep learning. I’m not as good at cooking as I am at baking, but it’s still fun and I think I’m getting better. The only issue is Yuna.” The man visibly and dramatically shivers and it elicits laughter from you.   “Does she bother you a lot?”   “Less like bothering and more like she literally pops up wherever I go,” he tells. “Sometimes I’m just minding my own business and then boom, out of nowhere, I turn the corner and she’s there. I’m starting to think she’s like a ghost or like….like…”   “—a witch,” Jungkook finishes and then leans down to plop a kiss at the top of your head. “Hey.”   “Hey.” You smile and he leans down to steal a bite of your pie, but you don’t mind much. “You’ll never guess who I saw earlier.” Curiosity gleams in Jungkook’s eye and you grin, wanting to put him suspense for a little longer. “I’ll tell you about it later, but is everyone grabbing dinner afterwards? I haven’t checked the messages yet.”   “Yeah, we are.”   Soon, Hoseok comes over and introduces his lady-friend that he brought with him as Naul. But you know through advice he’s sought through you a few weeks back that he’s been seeing her and taking it slow.    It’s nice to finally meet someone you’ve heard about, and you find that her calm and collected personality fits into Hoseok’s quite well.   You also meet Jimin’s girlfriend who is sweet and an avid talker about all things deli meats.    At your surprise of how ham supposedly doesn’t taste as good as some other cold cuts, she insists that you and Jungkook need to have a double date with her and Jimin so she can enlighten you on the world of salamis — to which you agree needs to happen. She’s peculiar, but sweet and cute when she’s with Jimin.   “So you’re really going?” you ask after Aeri confirms it. She had told you a month ago that she applied to study abroad and you couldn’t be anything but happy. Especially now that she’s just told you that she’s been accepted, you have nothing but eagerness for her.   “Yeah, I’m a bit nervous, but I’m super excited.”   You pull the girl into a tight embrace. “I’ll miss you, but have fun and stay safe. Stay in touch.”   “Thanks and I will, Y/N.” She giggles against you and pulls apart. “I hear Amsterdam is really nice and my aunt keeps advertising it, so I’m looking forward to it.”   “Apparently, those Dutch men are really something,” you murmur and she laughs. “You know, if I wasn’t in a happily committed relationship and with my dream job, I’d probably ask if I could come with you cause damn, they’re like a tall glass of water. You need to take advantage of that.”   “Who’s a tall glass of water?” Jungkook approaches with a sorely unimpressed expression.   It makes you go tight-lipped and Aeri giggles, slinking away before she’s caught in the crossfire.   While you and Jungkook playfully bicker in the middle of the store and he grabs you in a chokehold and you tickle him — much to the shock of the other patrons who don’t know you — Yoongi looks on behind the counter with a displeased expression.   Except that’s only his natural resting bitch face and not what he thinks internally.   Or at least that’s what Jimin realizes when Yoongi says to him privately— “They’re a pretty good match, huh? Jungkook and Y/N.”   “Yeah.” Jimin smiles, watching the two of you act like children. “They are.”   It’s sad when the opening event eventually ends. The night comes and dinner is soon over too. Everyone ultimately says their farewells, waving before they go off on their own way and you linger just a moment until everyone’s gone. It’s nostalgic to be around them, reminding you of days that seemed simpler and easier, and when you were unaware of these facts.   It’s sad to say goodbye since you don’t know when you’ll see all of them again. At one place. At one time. But at least you have Jungkook with you, so you’re far from being alone.   “Don’t worry,” Jungkook jokes around, “They’ll be back for our wedding.”   “When is that going to happen?” you scoff, looking at him and how his features are illuminated under the lampposts that you pass. You squeeze his hand in yours.    “It’s a surprise,” he answers slyly.   You grin. “And what if I reject you?”   “Then I’ll be a very sad man.”   “And if we don’t work out at all?”   “Then we’ll still be best friends,” Jungkook says and interlaces his fingers with yours. “I’ll always be here for you. Because I’m lame and I think I’ll always be head over heels for you.” He smiles wide, bunny teeth revealed and features soft. “It’s a promise.”   And one you believe in.   Luckily, you and Jungkook never split.   You end up getting married two years later with Aeri as your maid of honour and Taehyung as the best man — the brunette giving you so much anxiety with his spontaneousness that you nearly wish it was Jimin who was the best man instead. But everything ends up without too many hitches or difficulties.   It’s hectic lives that you and Jungkook lead, but ones you love.   Ultimately, the pair of you get a townhouse together halfway between the suburbs and the city. You wind up running Kim’s Wedding Cake Company with Yuna many years down the line after Namjoon and Sejeong step down to retire. And Jungkook achieves his dream of becoming a chocolatier and ends up getting silver in The World Chocolate Masters competition.    The two of you have your first child together one drunken night when you both think it’s a good idea to have sex in your sacred spot — a professional kitchen. It’s the first and last time, swearing you’ll never do it again when you’re both on your hands and knees afterwards, sanitizing the entire area for fear of losing your jobs for the violation of health codes.    But you end up conceiving that night and it’s the first of many kids — rascals with sweet-tooths.   Life with Jungkook is a mundanity you could’ve only dreamed of. And you often count your blessings that you somehow ended with such a cheeky, lovable boy.

[Epilogue]   “And that’s how I met your grandmother.”   There’s a plump toddler sitting on his knee, slobbering as he babbles, and a slightly older girl sitting cross-legged in front of him on the carpet. She’s no more than five years old and blinks up at the old man with matching doe eyes.   “So a stupid man dumped grandma and then you came in and saved her?” she asks in a high-pitched voice.   “Essentially.” The old man nods and takes off his rounded spectacles to place on the small table beside his plush armchair. It’s his special seat for story time, placed under the picture frames of you and Jungkook over the decades, from your graduation to your wedding. “We were friends first and then started to date afterwards, but yes, it’s right to say I did save her.”   “Like a superhero?”   He grins and confirms, “Like a superhero. Now, do you know what the moral of the story is?”   His granddaughter shakes her head. “No. What is it?”   “The way to a person’s heart is through the stomach,” he declares with a smile. “If they like chocolate, you make sure you’re good at making chocolate. You like chocolate, right?”   “I like grandma’s cakes!” she exclaims much to his amusement.   “What nonsense are you telling her?” You’re leaning on the doorframe leading to the kitchen, sighing lightly as you shake your head with your arms crossed.   Your hair is slowly turning gray, but you’re still as attractive — if not even more so. Jungkook always mused how much more beautiful you got the more you learnt and experienced. And he likes the wrinkles around your eyes, even when you don’t. It reminds him of how many times he’s made you laugh over the years.   “Grandma!” Your granddaughter jumps up with a big grin that’s reminiscent of a bunny. She has big doe eyes that seem to sparkle in the afternoon light shedding into the cozy home. “Grandpa was just telling me how you guys met. He said he saved you. Is that true?”   “I saved him, dear.” You pat her head gently. “Without me, your grandpa would be hopeless.”   The older man at his armchair chuckles. “That is true.”   “It’s time for lunch, you three.”   You hold up your grandson and your granddaughter skips towards the kitchen.   Jungkook staggers upwards from his seat with weaker knees and muscles that feel exhausted to the bone. He’s still in rather good shape though for just turning sixty three two months ago. Even when you constantly worry about him, he can still play catch with the kids in the backyard and put them on his back without hurting it much.   When he comes into the kitchen, the two kids are in their seats and busy already digging in. His mug that says ‘Jungkook — World’s Best Chocolatier’ sits at the corner of the fruit place mat you bought at the thrift store. The letters of the mug are worn around the edges, handle chipped at the bottom, but it’s still his favourite.   But Jungkook doesn’t sit down to eat just yet.    He rounds the table and comes to the sink where you’re humming away. He leans his arms on the edge of the counter, standing right behind you and leans in as you turn your head.   Jungkook kisses your cheek. “I love you.”   You smile, the same one he fell in love with all those decades ago when you both were still young students who knew nothing about what was to come. “I love you too.”    Much to Jungkook’s contentment, you lean into him, filling his senses with your scent as you press a soft kiss to his lips. And it’s not bitter whatsoever.   It’s sweet.

[trivia-bangtan]

after (jjk) - 005

pairing: patient!oc x patient!jungkook

genre: friends to lovers au, kinda a hazel and gus trope, | lots of angst, fluff and suggestive themes

warning: this chapter gets extremely dark 😭 (nothing new lol)

authors note: omfg im so sorry it’s taken me so long to post 😩 the schedule might change from now on bc my schedule changed 😅 but hope u guys enjoy it 😩😩

there's a phobia called agoraphobia. it’s basically the fear of places and situations that can cause panic, helplessness and/or embarrassment. usually, i can deal with it. but things like cringe worthy scenes and overly cheesy romance is unavoidable.

especially being friends with jeon jungkook.

i knew better than to hand out my phone number to just anyone, but i thought maybe jungkook would be so busy with his own life, he would leave me alone.

for his parents' sake, i hope he had unlimited talk and text for his plan. the boy texted me first thing in the morning and every hour or so. he would call me at night, sometimes even facetime me, just before he went to bed. and even when we would hang up, he would still text me goodnight.

the only other person i would talk to everyday, other than my parents, is hoseok. hoseok was my older cousin, but one of my closest friends as well. but even hoseok gave a break during the day to allow some “me time” for the both of us.

jungkook was relentless. he would always text me “good morning sunshine” and then text me “good night my moon”. what the hell even was that?

as much as it was annoying, it was endearing in a sense. i guess it was nice to have someone other than family constantly checking up on me. but some part of me couldn’t help but wonder if it was because of what namjoon had said and if he felt obligated to have to talk to me.

i knew jungkook wasn’t like that. but a small part of me couldn’t help but convince myself that it could be true.

“so the guy texts you all the time? it’s not a big deal,” hoseok said, sitting across the island in his kitchen. i stuck my fork into my bowl of fruit, impaling a small blueberry in the process.

“i mean, it’s not but it’s weird. hobi, i’ve never had someone crave to talk to me so often. and i swear it has to be because of what our counselor said,” i mumble.

the thing about hoseok is he has an aura that gets you to spill all emotions. much like jungkook. but the difference between the two of them in my life is that i’ve known hoseok a lot longer and can confirm he can keep his mouth shut.

“well contrary to your belief, you’re a decent person to have around,” he shrugs, giving a strawberry in his mouth. i snort at his comment and roll my eyes.

“wow, what a compliment. it’s a wonder you’re single,” i chuckle, shoveling the fork full of blueberries into my mouth.

“i’m single by choice. what about you?” hoseok smirks, wiggling his eyebrows at me.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” i asked, laughing at his expression.

“what?”

“the whole thing?” i respond, laying my fork down onto the counter, leaning onto it with my elbows, forearms flat as i folded my hands.

“i’m single because i choose to be. i prefer comforting solitude than forced company,” he shrugs, continuing to shovel fruit into his mouth.

“forced company?” i ask.

“yeah. like, just because we’re together, they feel obligated to HAVE to hang out with me or invite me everywhere when, in reality, i don’t give a damn. i mean, you know me. we both value our solitude and respect that. but it’s hard to find someone that understands that. and then i’m the bad guy for wanting alone time when really, it’s a mental health break,” hoseok explains, his eyes locked onto the bowl in front of him.

his statement surprised me. he was always such a people oriented person. as kids, he was the first to make friends between us and always such an extrovert. it kind of hurt to know eventually his whole personality switched. but maybe being so wrapped up in my world and in my own issues, i failed to acknowledge the people around me.

the atmosphere changed after that. almost as if there was a sad reminisce in the air.

“do you think you’re forced to keep me company?” i blurted. i couldn’t deny, the thought crossed my mind multiple times before. was everyone around me just babysitting to make sure i didn’t hurt myself?

i couldn’t tell. i knew asking would be dumb. hoseok would never tell me the truth. he’s usually a pretty blunt and up front guy, but he would never outright hurt my feelings. which saddened me even more. would he willingly lie to comfort me? knowing what i knew?

“do you think i am?”

“yeah,” i honestly admitted. we both sat in silence, taking in my answer.

it wasn’t a lie. like i said, the thought had crossed my mind. every time he placed his phone down on the table to force himself to give me his attention. the way he seemingly dropped everything immediately if i asked him to hang out with me or pick me up some place. how i never heard of him being with friends.

the more i sat there, the more i threw myself into overdrive, thinking until my head started to pound from overthinking.

“well, you’re wrong,” he sighed. my eyes flitted up to gaze at his face. he looked sullen, almost like my answer had upset him. i released a silent huff through my nose, smirking in the process.

“you don’t have to protect me,�� i murmured quietly.

“my mom called me. she begged me to come home one day. i didn’t understand it at first, but she's my mom. i did as i was told. when i got home, she didn’t say anything, just told me to get in the car. i remember thinking to myself ‘what’s got her feeling this way? why is she being ominous with her actions?’ the whole drive, she said nothing,” hoseok said, a distant look in his eyes.

“she ended up pulling over at some park. it was late, so i didn’t recognize it at first. but then i realized what park it was. it was the park we went to as kids. and, again, i kept wondering to myself why she was being enigmatic with her actions. and then she spoke. she said six words and then didn’t speak the rest of the week,” he said, his voice shaken with sadness.

“what did she say?” i asked softly, my voice a mere whisper. hoseok looked up at me, his eyes glazed red.

“your cousin tried to kill herself.”

i felt like the air had come out of my lungs.

it’s funny, people like to talk about your attempts, but nobody ever tells you where they were and what they were doing when they heard the news. nobody tells you the pain they feel or the hurt. the anger or the betrayal. they pretend like what they felt didn’t happen to convince themselves it wasn’t real and they could move on. because it didn’t work and you’re alive.

but hearing hoseok tell me about his experience, it stirred something in my heart and i hadn’t felt in a long time.

regret.

“she didn’t even mention if you survived or if you were okay. that’s all she said. and because she was crying, i assumed the worst. i had assumed you died. and it felt like everything in me… stopped working. like, i forgot what it was like to not have you by my side. every… every memory, every laugh. every inside joke. it was like a corny ass film playing at 2x speed in front of me. my mind kept telling itself this can’t be real. she wouldn’t do that to me’. but the longer we sat there and the harder she cried, i couldn’t take it. i jumped out of the car and just started running. i didn’t know where i was going but i just had to run because the car was so suffocating, i thought i was gonna pass out. and i kept asking myself ‘why her? why couldn’t she just talk to me? why didn’t she tell me she was hurting? does she know how much i love her and that i would do anything to keep her here?’ and then i was pissed because i thought you had abandoned me. that you didn’t care about me or your parents or my mom. but then… once i stopped running… i felt bad for you. because i could never imagine the amount of loneliness you must’ve felt thinking the only way to solve this was to end it all,” he said through his compendious recount of that night. i could feel the hurt and regret make its rounds in my heart, forcing my body to follow. it physically ached to hear hobi recall every moment of that night. “i’m sorry,” i cried out, crying into my hands.

“that’s why i hang out with you. that’s why i talk to you. because i don’t want you to feel that kind of loneliness ever again,” he admitted, sniffling. the hurt and regret only further festered and made me cry over hard to the point where i felt like i couldn’t breathe. hoseok stood from his spot, making his way around the island. he stood in front of me, pulling me into his chest, my arms wrapping around his waist. i hadn’t hugged anyone in years, and the amount of care and love hoseok had emitted through his hug made me cry even more.

“and that’s why i’m so glad you have jungkook. because when i can’t be there, at least he is,” he explained, rubbing small circles in my back.

though my doubt was still heavy, and i felt as if he had an ulterior motive, hoseok’s words comforted me in a way.

jungkook had been nothing but kind, never intrusive or inquisitive about my history or my feelings. he spoke to me because he wanted me to know that he cared.

and for the first time in forever, i felt something else too.

hope.

[lilyharvord]

OKAY WAIT I LOVE YOUR CORIANE THOUGHTS!! i never really put much thought into marecal kids besides reading the epilogue or fanfics and being like okay cute. but your headcannon about the political impact of calore children with red blood is so interesting and i 100% agree with you. if you have any further ideas or writing i would love to hear it! the way the world world and silver succession would adjust/react to cal’s abdication and marecal’s relationship post broken throne is so fascinating to me.

🥺 NONNIE, I AM SO GLAD YOU ASKED.

First of all, Cal's abdication is the biggest slap in the face to the Silver Secession (particularly Larentia who I headcanon leads the whole thing like a shadow puppeteer. Her husband died trying to keep that Calore brat on the throne, you can bet she's got two bones to pick with him even though she wants him on that non-existent throne just so they can go back to the "old ways"). They took him abdicating personally. They send him letters almost weekly, and they are all super passive aggressive comments about his birthright, and how denying it is akin to spitting on his father's grave, and later akin to pissing on it when Cal just burns all the letters and refuses to reply.

Anyway, the political impact of Cal and Mare's marriage. Ho boi, that one is a dousy. There's a reason they have a small wedding with only their very close family and friends. They try to keep it hush hush, for a little while, but of course the Silver Secession finds out because they find out everything. They bother the living hell out of Anabel until she sends one very threatening letter back after which the letters come far and few between (she never tells Cal what she put in that letter but she always gets a wicked gleam in her eye when he asks). But the political impact of their marriage is heard round the continent. Lets be real here: Cal is no longer a prince, but he is still a very high profile figure in the Nortan government (now the States). Mare is both a prominent Scarlet Guard figure and Montfort one. There are very LOUD whispers saying that Montfort forced them to marry to create a permanent bridge between the two countries. That Montfort is using Mare as a leash on Cal and the States to dictate how they function etc. (Which may or may not be the actual truth)

They dont want kids at first. Cal's a little heartbroken about it of course. He wants kids, has always wanted them. But Mare is right, and their children would be in danger from the moment Mare conceives. Then Mare says fuck it, I want a baby. They try and she gets pregnant. The Silver Secession finds out. Those letters that stopped coming for a while come back, but with a fury from hell. It gets so bad (after Mare is actually almost kidnapped at one point) that they have to go underground and hide until the baby is born. Dane and Carmadon offer the cabin in Paradise valley because it's location is actually incredibly secret and isolated and safe. So they go there, and Coriane is born a few months later. Cal cries in relief because her blood is Red. There is no way the Silver Secession will come after her now, but they try and it is the most hellish three years of Mare and Cal's life. It puts them off from having any more children. There are eleven kidnapping attempts before Coriane is even a year old (one for every month she is alive and breathing air)

Then they just stop. The letters stop coming, the kidnappings stop. Mare and Cal walk on egg shells, Coriane toddles along, growing by leaps and bounds and making them proud every second of every day. She's loud and proud and walks around saying: My name is Coriane BARROW Calore. When people try to call her Coriane Calore. They find out that the Silver Secession is not happy with Coriane being Red. And People whisper when they go to the States. Some people who are not exactly part of the Silver Secession but who still whisper "Long Live Tiberias the Seventh" when Cal passes in the street with Coriane on his shoulders and Mare at his side are not happy either. They sneer at the giggling toddler at his side reaching to touch the pretty things in the market. They jeer at her Red blood when she laughs so hard her cheeks burn bright, cherry apple red. They frown when they see Mare nuzzle her neck and press kisses all over her face. They especially dont like when Cal glares at them until they pull back into their stalls or shops or go back to their coffees and newspapers. Around this time, (In my headcanons) Coriane meets Nikolas Samos (second born to Wren and Ptolemus) and they become instant friends. A dangerous thing of course... for obvious dynasty reasons, and this fuels the Silver Secession for a little while.

Then Mare gets pregnant again. Shade is the definition of a Whoopsie! Baby. They immediately go into hiding this time. They take Coriane, Cal takes a leave of absence, Mare takes one too, and they dont tell ANYONE where they are going. The reason? The nurse who did mare's check up told someone it was a boy, and that person had some nefarious connections to a certain Silver Political group that was running on fumes up until that moment. The first letter that arrives at their little house in Ascendant is written in beautiful court handwriting (Larentia's unmistakable tact in every word of that letter) and swears fealty to Tiberias Calore the Eighth who isn't even born yet. Cal torches that letter with his bare hand before Mare can even read it. Coriane doesn't like being taken away from her cousins and her grandma and grandpa and her aunt Farley, but they go in the dead of night and don't look back.

Shade is born in the middle of a storm like Clara, and Sara is the only person to see Mare or Cal in six months. They come back to Ascendant two months after Shade is born with a healthy baby boy, and everyone looses their minds. There are six kidnapping attempts in two months. Mare and Cal dont sleep for weeks, there is one dead Silver Secession member who got halfway down the street before Mare used Brain Lightning for the first time and liquified his insides. She is so horrified by it she cries herself to sleep for three nights because Coriane saw her do it, saw what her mother could do, and won't come near her out of fear.

But that too passes after a few years, because it gets around that Shade is a Red baby that looks more like Mare and her dead brother than Cal. Then it's back to Coriane, who by now is old enough to begin to understand what is going on around her. She starts to notice the whispers, the pointing, the stares when she goes out with her dad to train. (She accidentally set her bedsheet on fire after a nightmare, and that is where the trouble begins again). The letters start coming again, but they're addressed to her instead. She's only ten, so when she gets the first one with her name on it in pretty writing, she opens it before Mare or Cal notice, and is so confused by what is in it that she shows them it for clarification. Mare takes it and rips it to pieces, and Coriane cries about it, because that was HER letter. They have to sit her down with a very young Shade then and tell her a story about brothers, crowns, and mutations, death, war, and pain, and sorrow, and love. Then she understands. She's eleven when she does her first broadcast to denounce a throne that doesn't even exist anymore. She shakes with nerves in front of a camera, and has to hold a notecard with what she has to say on it. She mispronounces five words, and almost cries when she stumbles over a phrase she doesn't even understand, something about ever and always and crowns being broken. Cal stands behind her the whole time, squeezing her shoulders in reassurance. The nightmares begin after that for him, because there is a letter sent telling him of a distant Calore relative who is very interested in Coriane and would like to meet her. When Cal looks into him, he finds out he's 45 years old. And when I tell you he packed a bag the moment he finished that letter and drove to the airfield to take an air jet himself and kill the man, I tell you that Mare stopped him by standing in the middle of the runway and refusing to let him take off without going through her. "You give them what they want if you go after him." she tells him when he breaks down and kneels before her while she sits on their bed holding his head against her stomach. They NEVER tell Coriane about that, but there is two more letters that come like it.

Coriane and Nik becomes very close, dangerously close. There is one fic I will write at some point where both of them are taken and they actually get them away from Montfort and to a secondary location. There is man hunt led by Cal and Ptolemus and they do not keep those children for long. There is no record of what happened at that dilated mansion in the middle of the woods in the upper States, but Cal comes back with Silver blood under his nails and Coriane in his arms four days later.

When she gets older, much much older, into her later twenties, three different people send requests for her hand in marriage. She burns those letters and doesn't even deign them a response. Shade gets similar requests, and he throws the letters away. The Silver Secession goes out with a whimper, and eventually Coriane and Shade are safe. But inbetween their childhood and those years, people start whispering different things. "The word is changing, it's really changing" they whisper, and then say, "A Calore had two children, both Red, and they are kind."

[missjanjie]

Taste of a Poison Paradise | Chapter 7

Title: Taste of a Poison Paradise Summary: Life at Jackie Cox’s strip club, Poison Paradise, isn’t just lapdances and g-strings. There’s enough drama, lust, and heartache to rival any soap opera. None of the girls know what to expect on any given shift, especially while navigating their torrid, complicated relationships. Word Count: ~3k (this chapter) / ~21.2k (total) Relationship(s): Lemyanka (Lemon/Priyanka), Crygi (Crystal Methyd/Gigi Goode), Sportsdoll (Jan Sport/Nicky Doll), Jaidie (Jaida Essence Hall/Jackie Cox), BVK (Brooke Lynn Hytes/Vanessa Vanjie Mateo/Kameron Michaels), Rosnali (Rosé/Denali Foxx) Rating: E

Read on AO3 | Ko-Fi

Chapter Summary: Denali and Jaida collaborate, Rosé's roommate takes care of Lemon, and Jan and Nicky go to Paris.

-

Jaida glanced over her shoulder as she adjusted the lighting setup in her room. “Now, are you sure this is gonna get the reactions we want?”

“We can’t be sure about anything other than death and taxes,” Denali pointed out, “but my gut is telling me this is exactly how we kill two birds with one stone.”

Although she wasn’t completely convinced, Jaida decided to trust Denali’s judgment on this. She was the one that had been doing this for a living, after all. If she says filming a scene together could be both the final push Jackie needed to come to terms with her feelings and ignite a spark of either jealousy or passion (or both) in Rosé, she just had to trust the process, right? “Alright, let’s do this.”

“You could be a little more enthusiastic,” Denali remarked in mock offense before turning the camera on.

“Sorry,” she exhaled, “I just need to get in the zone.”

After a brief moment to hype herself up, Jaida was ready to go. She and Denali admired themselves in the mirror, at the lingerie they were both wearing, then began filming. They didn’t bother with pretenses – their viewers didn’t want a preamble or plot, they wanted two hot girls having sex, and it was something they could readily oblige with.

They started by making out, hot and heavy and full of pleasured sighs and breathy moans. They peeled the lingerie off of each other, taking time to kiss and grope the newly exposed skin, getting each other worked up until they were naked and ready.

Jaida pinned Denali’s wrists above her head with one hand and with the other, eased one finger, then another into her, thrusting and curling her fingers into her. “Good girl,” she praised, “taking me so well.”

And Denali fell into her role perfectly, which wasn’t particularly difficult when she was with someone as skilled as Jaida. She tossed her head back and moaned out, arching towards her fingers. “Fuck, feels so good,” she whimpered. Her body rocked in perfect tandem with Jaida’s fingers, and when the other woman switched to using her tongue instead, her moans only got louder and her body moved more fervently.

Jaida gripped onto her hips firmly, keeping her just steady enough to alternate between sucking on her clit and thrusting her tongue in and out of her. She could feel when Denali was about to come and doubled down on her efforts, fucking the smaller girl through her orgasm and not relenting until she was certain she was spent, then even a moment longer for a final touch of overstimulation.

They shared a few calm, chaste kisses as they recovered, then Jaida shifted so Denali could get up and turn the camera off. “I’ll edit it, should be good to go by tomorrow,” she assured with a smile. “That was great, by the way. Jackie’s in for a treat once she comes around.”

“Thanks,” she couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh. “Here’s hoping.”

------

“Hey, listen,” Rosé poked her head into Mik’s room on her way out for her morning shift. “Check in on Lemon every now and then if you can. She’ll be out cold with a hangover until noon, but, you know, after that.”

Mik looked up from her phone and nodded. “Sure, gorge. It’s so refreshing to not be the messiest bitch in the house.”

Rosé rolled her eyes. “I’m serious, Mik. It’s never taken her this long to bounce back from a girl, and she wasn’t even in a relationship with Priyanka.”

“Like I said.”

She sighed, knowing that her roommate had a point. “Okay, sure. Just make sure she isn’t completely shitfaced by the time I get home, she missed her last two shifts and I promised Jackie she’d show up at least mostly sober.”

“Relax, I’ll take care of her,” she assured, then waved Rosé off, waiting until she heard the front door close before laying back down. She still had a few hours before she had to be on Lemon duty.

But it didn’t take a few hours. It had only been an hour and change before Lemon wandered out of her cousin’s bedroom and, upon realizing Rosé wasn’t there, into Mik’s. “Did she go to work?”

“Did no one teach you how to knock?” Mik asked as she sat up, then added, “yeah, she left a little while ago.” She rubbed her eyes and looked the blonde over, and she looked as rough as Rosé had made it sound. “Jesus…”

Lemon rolled her eyes. “Spare me your pity,” she mumbled and flopped backward on Mik’s bed. “I’m aware of how fucked up I am.”

“Admitting it is the first step,” she shrugged, then smiled slightly when Lemon almost laughed. “You just want some company, then?”

She pushed herself up, only to shift and lay by Mik’s side. “You don’t mind? I know I’m no one's first choice to keep around these days,” she murmured.

“Oh, shut up,” Mik scoffed and shook her head. “You know everyone’s worried about you because they care about you.”

“Not everyone.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose, silently figuring out what she could do to pull Lemon from this mindset. “I could offer you some distraction sex in this trying time.”

Lemon tilted her head. “Yeah? Because I’m about to take you up on that. This is the longest I’ve gone without getting any in ages.” She got up and straddled herself across Mik’s lap and pulled her shirt off. “Let’s do this.”

Mik’s brows rose at the blunt quickness of Lemon’s decision, but it didn’t deter her in the slightest. She sat up and tugged her shirt off and tossed it aside, then leaned up and kissed Lemon as her hands rested on her ass. “I’ll take care of you,” she assured before flipping their positions so the blonde was now underneath her.

“Please,” she exhaled, arching her hips up to wiggle out of her shorts and toss them aside.

“So eager,” Mik cooed as she ducked down to kiss at her neck. “Just how I like them,” she added, smirking to herself as she moved a hand down Lemon’s body, stopping between her legs and using two fingers to rub her clit.

And Lemon couldn’t have denied it if she tried. Instead, she just let out a moan and arched into her touch.

Mik smirked, moving her head between Lemon’s thighs, sucking on her clit as she eased one finger into her, letting it curl as she thrust slowly. She waited until she felt Lemon start rocking against her finger that she added another, thrusting, curling, and scissoring them inside her, feeling the way her body writhed and the sounds of her moans.

Lemon hadn’t realized just how badly she had needed this until waves of pleasure crashed over her body. Now, her only challenge was not letting her brain wander to anyone but Mik. The very last thing she wanted was for Priyanka’s name to spill past her lips while another woman was fucking her.

And Mik was oblivious to Lemon’s train of thought. Her goal was to get her off, plain and simple. So, her ministrations were steady and firm until she could feel the other girl come, fucking her through it until she was sure she was spent. “You good, princess?” she asked gently.

“Yeah,” she exhaled, laying flat on the bed. “As I’ll ever be.”

------

“Priyanka?” There was silence, followed by a more forceful “Priyanka!”

“Hm?”

“Are you on your phone right now?”

The question, and the harsh tone it was asked in, jolted Priyanka into reality. “Um… I thought it might be an emergency,” she replied, knowing her voice wasn’t as convincing as she would’ve liked it to be. But she didn’t know what she expected when she decided to check instagram while her fiancé was having sex with her and perhaps should have been more subtle.

“Come on,” he groaned, “if you’re only gonna let me hit it once a week, you could at least pretend to be into it.”

Priyanka rolled her eyes, which of course he couldn’t see, and set her phone aside. “Sorry, proceed.”

Luckily for Priyanka, a few fake moans were enough to convince Mark that she was into it, which she repeated a few more times until he came, and she went right back to scrolling through instagram while he threw the condom out.

He laid down beside her with his hands behind his head. “My mom wants to take you dress shopping. She said you can bring your maid of honor or whoever too,” he told her.

“Cool,” she replied, as if her heart hadn’t dropped into her stomach, “I’ll text Scarlett.” It made much more sense that she would pick her best friend since college to be her maid of honor as opposed to one of the girls from the club. She loved the girls, but it would just be too messy. She wasn’t sure if she was even going to invite them at all. Maybe some of them would understand, but she knew for sure all hell would break loose if Lemon was anywhere in the vicinity of the venue.

———

“Something on your mind?” Mark asked tentatively, knowing more often than not it was pointless to try to ask.

“Just… thinking about how much we have to do for the big day.” She only ever referred to it as ‘the big day’ — ‘wedding’ made her stomach churn and it was hard for her to say without gagging. But that wasn’t enough for her to call it off. She was in this too deep, how could she ever turn back now?

She couldn’t, that’s how. No amount of sickness in her stomach or pain in her heart would break her free of this. At least, that was what she would keep reminding herself.

“What do you think of the room, ma chérie?” Nicky asked as she led Jan into the hotel suite they would be staying during their weekend getaway.

Jan’s eyes widened as she looked around. It was nearly the size of her apartment back home and decorated with the elegant Parisian flair she had only seen in fashion magazines. “It’s gorgeous,” she exhaled, setting her suitcase by the bed and walking around for a better look, wandering into the bathroom. “That is the biggest tub I’ve ever seen,” she said as she came back out.

Nicky chuckled fondly as she watched her girlfriend dart around the room like a kid in a candy store. “This is the reaction I was hoping for,” she hummed, wrapping her arms around Jan when she finally stood still long enough for her to do so.

“Nicks, this is so beautiful,” she gushed, kissing her sweetly. “I know, at least financially, this is easy for you, but I still appreciate you doing it for me.”

“I would still try to do the most for you if it was difficult,” she replied with a soft smile, gently caressing Jan’s cheek. “I love you,” she added in a voice barely above a whisper.

Suddenly, the room didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but Nicky and hearing those words come out of her mouth. Her heart started racing and she pulled her into a deep kiss, her hands cupping her face to hold her in place. “I love you too,” she murmured against her lips.

Nicky hadn’t even realized there was such a weight on her shoulders until it lifted with those four words. She melted into the embrace, nothing in the world could have made her happier than being there with Jan, now knowing they loved each other. “As much as I would like to show you exactly how much I love you by fucking you within an inch of your life, we have dinner reservations in an hour, and there’s a surprise for you in the closet that will be part of it.”

Jan looked at her curiously, letting go of her face and walking towards the closet, her eyes going wide when she opened it. “Oh my god, this is beautiful. And it looks like it’ll fit perfectly, which, no offense, I didn’t expect from French fashion.” Being five-foot-four and a size eight meant she was generally fine with mainstream clothing, but when it came to lingerie and ‘high fashion’ she was often, to put simply, shit out of luck.

“I had a friend alter the dress to your measurements. I know it isn’t easy to fit your triple-d breasts, as much as I enjoy them,” she hummed.

She bounced excitedly on her heels as she took the dress off the hanger and got changed. “It fits perfectly, I love it, baby,” she beamed.

Nicky smiled warmly as she got changed as well. “Then let’s go, I’ve got to broaden your palate to French cuisine. I promise I won’t make you eat any snails.”

------

Denali’s video with Jaida was burned into Rosé’s mind. She was frustrated — she had no right to be jealous if Denali wasn’t her girlfriend, but seeing another woman fuck her — a woman who knew what she was doing in bed — made her blood boil. But when Denali invited her over after work, it all clicked. She wasn’t oblivious, she could put two and two together and realize this was a ploy to get some extra attention.

“If that’s how she wants to play,” Rosé said to herself, “it’s game on.”

“Hi, Rosie,” Denali greeted cheerfully as she let her in. “How was work?”

Rosé didn’t have time for pleasantries, unceremoniously yanking Denali into her bedroom and pinning her to the door. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” she clicked her tongue and shook her head. “Getting me all worked up by letting Jaida fuck you on camera. You can act like you were just helping out a friend all you want, I know you were trying to make me jealous.”

Denali’s heart started racing and her face felt hot, but she did her best not to let her expression falter. “And what if I was?”

Her grin darkened and she tilted her chin up with two fingers. “Well then, Mommy’s just going to have to give you what you want, aren’t I?” She backed off of her, hands on her hips. “Go on, grab the strap and get undressed.”

“Yes, Mommy,” Denali breathed out, grabbing the strap-on from her drawer and setting it on the edge of the bed before stripping out of her clothes and tossing them aside.

Rosé smirked, undressing and fastening the harness around her hips, then took her sweet time rifling through another drawer. She knew where Denali kept her silk ropes, but it wouldn’t be a punishment if she didn’t drag it out to tease her. “Here we go,” she finally pulled one out and walked back to her. “Don’t give me that pout. You wanted my attention so badly and you got it,” she clicked her tongue as she tied her wrists together with her arms above her head.

And she knew she couldn’t argue with that, so she lay in place and watched as Rosé slicked up two fingers with lube, easing in one after the other, instantly arching up into the contact.

The taller woman allowed it, thrusting and curling her fingers into her until she deemed her ready, then eased her fingers up and lubed up the dildo, gently guiding it into her and giving her time to adjust before she started to thrust. And she knew she didn’t need to stay gentle for long — that Denali preferred it rough and could take her fair share of manhandling. So, she started thrusting hard and fast, keeping a bruising grip on her waist.

Denali whimpered and moaned, her hips bucking up as she eagerly begged for more. She kept up with Rosé’s fervent pace, though her hips started to jerk more erratically when Rosé began rubbing her clit as well.

“You gonna come, baby?” she cooed. “Go on, come for Mommy,” she prompted, then continued to thrust through her orgasm. She waited until Denali laid flat and spent on the bed, but didn’t move. When the woman underneath her looked up inquisitively, the smirk returned to her lips. “You didn’t think I was done, did you?” And after a beat of silence where Denali realized what she was in for, Rosé began thrusting again.

The cycle repeated longer than Denali could’ve anticipated. After the third orgasm, she started to feel lightheaded, after the fifth, she could barely keep her eyes open, let alone focused on anything.

And mercifully, when Rosé realized she was about to tap out, she stopped, pulling out of her and untying her wrists. She tossed the rope aside and shimmied out of the harness. “There we go, you were so good, baby,” she praised as she got the two of them under the covers. “How are you feeling?”

“‘M good,” Denali mumbled, cuddling up to Rosé and nuzzling her head into the crook of her neck. She didn’t have the energy to stop and think, to overanalyze her actions and stop herself from crossing the line between friends-with-benefits and… something more. That didn’t matter. What mattered was Rosé being soft and warm and very attentive when it came to aftercare.

“Do you need anything?” she asked gently. “Water? Something to eat? Advil?” As comfortable as she was in bed with her, she would’ve gotten up at the drop of a hat if need be.

But Denali shook her head. “I’m fine, Rosie,” she assured in a soft, sleepy voice. “Just don’t move, I need you to be my body pillow.”

“Go ahead, baby. I’m not going anywhere,” Rosé promised. They laid in comfortable silence, though it left her alone with her thoughts. She started to analyze her feelings when she saw the video, the possessiveness for someone she had no claim to. Even though they were both single, she had the wherewithal to realize this could go down a similar path to Lemon and Priyanka’s if she wasn’t careful. “Hey, Denali, I—”

Oh. She was asleep.

“Maybe next time,” Rosé murmured to herself.

[desparikon]

Murdoc/Mac fanfic misfire #6

Written for @pridewrite2021 , pw5 Asexual, pw6 Aromantic & pw alt6 Realization

Sleeping with Mac is nice, but it’s not the main form of intimacy Murdoc craves.

(aroace Murdoc is !!!)

“Amazing,” Mac whispered from his spot between Murdoc’s legs, absently squeezing along the one still hooked over his shoulder.

“I know,” Murdoc replied automatically, inwardly wincing at the intensifying prickles of reawakening muscles. “You can put my leg down now, ’m not going anywhere.”

Mac complied, squeezes turning into soothing massaging. Murdoc’s movements were stiff, cautious. His discomfort, obvious.

“You OK?”

Murdoc hissed quietly, his hip twinging. Old, improperly healed injuries, and his violent lifestyle were catching up.

Worth it though, yielding to Angus’ breaking composure, watching him indulge desires he’d fought to hold back. Why deny him(self) that pleasure, when their entire cat-and-mouse game leading to tonight had been his own?

“Murdoc?”

“Yeah, leg just fell asleep, it’s fine.”

“Good.” Giving Murdoc’s thighs a final squeeze, Mac leaned forward and planted his hands on his bed, boxing Murdoc in underneath him, “’Cause I’m not done with you yet.” He dipped his head, laying soft kisses on Murdoc’s stomach.

Stark contrast to the sparring and aggression marking the start of their evening. Tension and frustration had built far too long, and even someone as accommodating, softhearted, as Angus had limits. Only Murdoc knew what lie beneath, and he could handle it. Why not allow Angus to burn off what he deemed too dangerous for everyone else’s eyes?

Indeed, Angus could be a rough, dominating lover—he’d expected no less—but never cruel. There’d been no pain without pleasure, or reassurance. Honest words, kind eyes. Gentle hands that held his own, and ran through his hair, and caressed every inch, including his scars. Compassion toward the souvenirs bred by his penchant for violence and destruction. Everything Angus stood against.

That kind of special, affectionate attention paralyzed him.

Murdoc moaned and gripped Mac’s biceps. Encouragement for whatever came next.

Mac sighed against skin, “You’re so…” Kisses deepened, tongue pressing against bruises previously left on Murdoc’s chest, “So--”

A short tug on his hair warned against putting matching teeth marks around this nipple. “Leave that attached, hmm?”

Ah, the defiance in Angus’ eyes. The temptation. The careful studying. Weighing entertainment against whatever retribution would be doled out.

Murdoc nearly laughed, pushing Mac’s bangs back.

Truly, someone after Murdoc’s heart. Stubborn, and lively, and a troublemaker in his own right. Someone worthy of his defense’s deterioration. If this was defeat, he couldn’t have dreamed a better adversary.

Despite Murdoc’s silent surrender (near encouragement), Mac slowly pulled his tongue back in, and put on a most innocent smile. “I wasn’t gonna do anything.” He settled in against Murdoc, nuzzling into Murdoc’s neck.

“You’re a handful, Angus.” Murdoc wrapped an arm around Mac and held him close, careful to avoid the scratches torn across Mac’s back. His skin tingled under the tired, lazy exploration of Mac’s fingers.

Cuddling hadn’t been a thing with Amber; No pull, and their personalities didn’t mesh in a way that’d allowed it.

Murdoc could now confidently say cuddling (Angus) beat sex. Peak intimacy. Cozy. Peaceful. Safe. Simply being with Angus, and spending time together.

But, he’d cornered himself. After all his teasing and flirting, only to loudly declare:

Just Kidding!!

Well, not much would get him thrown out quicker. Saying no would be an admission. To what, he’d never quite figured out.

Sex was fine. Physically enjoyable, but not even the most fun one could have while naked. Magical, and life-changing, and unparalleled? Supposedly? Looking and appreciating were not the best parts, so he’d been told.

Condescending laughs. Derisive glances. Heavy implications. It was supposed to hurt. It didn’t. People’s misinterpretations were a them problem. One easily solved, if they didn’t treat his skills and reputation as all that mattered.

Sex was a chore, and if it didn’t fill a box on the arbitrary checklist of life and relationships, he’d leave it. Meet someone, get married, have kids. Tried it, boring, not for him.

What hurt, was people treating any deviation as a condemnation to perpetual unhappiness. Cassian brings him unmatched joy, and they acted like he was mistaken.

You got full custody?, *suspicious glances imply he’s abusive*, Never complain about using protection again, right!, Oh, so he’s a problem child? Very noble to stick around!, Boys require a woman to raise them!, Aww, Daddy’s Little Gatekeeper!, It must be sOoOoO misERABLE---

For people to martyr them over some narrowly defined Perfect Life he never wanted, especially in his son’s presence…!!!

An aggressive roast sent them packing, but did little to soothe the sting. Their only savior, proximity.

His happiness just looked different! Cassian taking a liking to Angus was a bonus, but remarrying wasn’t the answer. He wasn’t replacing Amber, or looking to force Angus into another checkbox. What he wanted with Angus was different. Marriage was loaded with connotations, about “love” and feelings, and what the pinnacle of relationships must be.

It made him irrationally angry. His feelings were complex, and ambiguous, and somehow different from others’. Tied, again, to something foreign everyone except him apparently understood.

“Murdoc…” Mac murmured, burrowing impossibly closer, “--built for endurance.” His fingers lightly traced a particularly stiff, raised scar.

Oh that kind of endurance.

“You’ve survived a lot.”

“Oh yes, never a shortage of plans going wrong. Or people trying to kill me.” Murdoc brushed Mac’s persistently unruly bangs to one side. “Perks of ~The Job~, I suppose.”

“That’s what bothers me. You could be out there getting seriously hurt, or killed, and Cassian would be all alone, and I’d never know.”

“Sure you would. Either he’ll call you, or the school will.”

“Wait, you made me--” Mac shifted so he could look up at Murdoc, an incredulous smile on his face. “I’m his emergency contact??”

“You’re surprised?”

“What am I? Friend? Cousin? Long-lost brother?”

“My partner.” Murdoc’s heart swelled as Mac cupped his cheek, his thumb gently rubbing circles. “It’s vague, but I wanted something open to interpretation.”

“I like it.”

“Then...you’d like to be partners with me?”

Mac playfully bumped their noses together. “Is it too soon for pet names, because I have a killer one for you...”

[gemma-lemma]

Cloudy Days - JJ Maybank x Male OC

Chapter 2.3 – Redfield

Soon after, the friends were in the twinkie, on the way to Redfield lighthouse. Everything seemed to have returned to normal, but Parker could still see the shadow that lingered over JJ’s eyes clear as day.

He wasn’t paying any attention to how John B tried to explain to his friends how the lighthouse was the right answer, and just studied the Maybank boy’s face.

“Bro, you know how I process my sad feels?” JJ suddenly asked into the room. “Dank nugs and the stickiest of ickies, that’s how I do it.”

Even though what JJ had just said was slightly gross, the others didn’t seem to pay his words any mind. Merely Parker raised a brow, and JJ just shrugged in response. They were in the back together with Pope, who was leaned forward between the two front seats to talk to Kiara and JB. JJ sat right behind him, while Parker was sprawled over the bench on the passenger side.

He raised his foot to nudge him in the side, but JJ slapped it away with a scowl. Parker took it as a challenge, and tried to nudge him again, but he just grabbed him by the ankle and held him still mid-air. Parker tried to wriggle his foot free, and almost would have been successful, but then JJ pressed it down on his thigh and got a secure hold on it like that.

Parker grinned at him, knowing the confident look in his eyes would confuse JJ.

“If it helps you believe, John B.” Kiara tried to reassure John B about the lighthouse in a soft voice.  

“Look, I- I don’t need a therapy session, okay?” John B defended. “I’m not trippin’ out.”

“It’s okay to trip, bro, but-“ JJ tried to calm him, but was cut off.

“Look, my dad’s missing, okay? Missing. You don’t know what it’s like to have the person closest to you vanish and then have no idea what happened.” John B said, and Parker looked out the window. Not, he did not know how it was if they were missing. Only if they died in front of your eyes. JJ squeezed his ankle and shot him a questioning look. He didn’t answer.

Pope and JJ suggested that Big John might have been kidnapped. Maybe he was in Vietnam, getting interrogated by the KGB, or even in Atlantis. Parker didn’t really pay attention to the conversation anymore. All he could see was the smile on his mother’s face when she closed her eyes for the last time, finally succumbing to her illness, and the blood dyeing Billy’s t-shirt dark red.

After what seemed like an endless ride, they arrived at the lighthouse, which, according to John B, was Big John’s favourite place.

The friends got out of the van, but Parker decided stay inside another few seconds, trying to regain his calm.

He jumped out just in time to hear Pope talking about variables and JJ yelling at him to shut up. It made Parker think about how his friend Alice had always suffered through the maths lessons at school as if she were being tortured. Nobody understood maths less than Alice, Parker was sure of it.

“Listen to me for a second, just listen!” John B interrupted JJ and looked at Parker. “Parker and Pope are gonna stay on lookout with JJ, alright? If we get split up, we meet back at JJ’s house.” He decided, and Kiara agreed.

Parker raised his brows at the retreating figures of his friends.

“Yeah, I’mma work on my merit scholarship essay, and I can’t be involved in a felony.” Pope ranted, snatched the ball JJ was playing with and kicked it around himself. He didn’t pay any mind to the incredulous look the Maybank boy shot him but was out of earshot soon enough.

Parker watched JJ a worriedly.

“How’re ya doin’?”

“Great, thanks.”

“Try again, I don’t believe you.”

“Why wouldn’t you believe me?” JJ snapped and glared at him. The second he saw the look in Parker’s eyes he knew that he had just given himself away.

“Because you just killed the rooster John B said you loved. Have you ever killed anything before?”

JJ scoffed. “Of course I have, don’t be stupid.”

“Insects don’t count.”

“Well, if you’re already all about going Dr. Phil on me, why don’t we ask you a few things too, then, huh? What was that, back at the Château? Since you arrived here you have been a literal wreck, and now you’re suddenly all gangster and bossy? You have too many loose ends, man!” JJ probably hadn’t even realized that he had backed Parker up against a tree until he hit it with his back. He didn’t back down, though.

“That’s how you wanna play this?” Parker laughed, realizing that JJ wouldn’t give him anything for free. “A truth for a truth, then. The first time I ever shot at someone with a gun, was to protect my friends. He would have hurt them, and I couldn’t let that happen, no matter how frightened I was. Same thing happened back at the Château. You guys were in danger, and I had to get my shit together and protect you.” He said with a dangerous smile. “That’s how things work where I come from. The law of the jungle allows no weakness.”

But JJ didn’t seem satisfied with the answer. “We were in danger also when the cops almost found us in the motel room. We were in danger when those guys shot at us or when they wrecked Ms. Lana’s hut. Where were your balls of steel then, huh?”

“Something happened, before I came here. Something bad, that really shook me. I’m still not over it, so don’t get surprised when I suddenly relapse. But today was a closer call than those before, and the situation reminded me specifically of back then, so I managed.”

“What happened?”

“Nuh-uh. That’s not how a truth for a truth works. It’s your turn, now. How are you?”

JJ started backing off, but Parker was faster. He grabbed him by the collar and spun them around, so that now JJ was pressed up against the tree. He struggled to get free at first, but then gave up and stared right into Parker’s eyes, challenging him. When he realized that Parker wouldn’t even accept the challenge, he sighed and averted his eyes again.

“I can’t really understand that I killed the rooster yet, I guess. It doesn’t feel like sadness, or remorse, it just feels bad, and I hate it. That was a living being – an animal that was dear to me. How can I not feel sorry for killing it?”  He said quietly, and Parker could hear the pain in his words. He softened his grip on JJ’s shoulders.

“The sorry will come later.” He explained softly. “But if that’s what you’re worried about, I can reassure you. This bad feeling that you’ve got? The one that seems to be eating away at your insides and making you sick to the stomach? That’s what you got for taking a life. It’s gonna feel bad for a while, and at some point remorse will crush you. Maybe you’re lucky and it won’t be that bad because it was just an animal, but it will still hurt. And then you have to feel the pain. It’s like in that John Green novel: pain demands to be felt. That’s the only way you can get over it.”

JJ nodded, deep in thought. Parker’s words seemed to soothe his raging mind a little, but he was still perturbed, so he added: “And if you ever need someone to talk to during that time, or someone to sit beside you while you work things out by yourself, I will be there for you.”

Again, JJ nodded, then his eyes widened as if suddenly realizing something. He looked back into Parker’s face and grabbed his wrists in an iron hold, securing them mercilessly ion his shoulders. “’Maybe you’re lucky and it won’t be that bad because it was just an animal’” He repeated Parker’s words and suddenly he knew that he had made a mistake. “What have you killed, Parker?”

As JJ had expected, Parker tried to rip free, but he wouldn’t let him. He stared at him urgently, waiting for an answer.

The sound of approaching sirens saved Parker from having to answer and they sprinted towards the twinkie. Pope jumped in the driver’s seat, and off they went towards JJ’s house.

 They hung out there a while, waiting, but when neither John B nor Kiara showed up Parker decided to drive the twinkie back to the Château. He had ignored any try from JJ’s side to pry any information out of him, not just yet ready to tell him about the men he’d killed to save himself or his friends.

When he parked the car, he was met by John B cleaning up his home and throwing pizza cartons away.

“Hey man, what happened? Weren’t we supposed to meet up at JJ’s?” He greeted, and immediately felt the sour mood his cousin sported.

“You want the long version or short?” He responded and proceeded to put empty glass bottles into a box.

“Medium rare.” Parker answered, just to mess a little. John B actually chuckled quietly. Bingo.

“I kissed Kiara. She pushed me away.” He began and went still, waiting for Parker’s reaction.

“Told you so.” Was all he said, not really surprised that his cousin had tried it after the conversation they’d had on the way to Ms. Lana’s house with JJ.

“I apologized, but she said it was okay.”

“I think nobody cares about you the way Kiara does. She’s doing her best to be a good friend and make it as easy on you as possible. I understand where your confusion is coming from, but I think you should try and take care of her a little better, too. Especially now that this misunderstanding is out of the way.”

John B shrugged in a way that said: You’re right, but I don’t really know what to say now. So he just proceeded with his story. “Then we were arrested because I hurt the lighthouse guy. Peterkin told me that she knew about the compass, I denied having it, Kiara’s dad got us out. I think he hates us. The square groupers chased me through the streets, Peterkin saved me, I gave her the compass, and Ward Cameron fired me because he found out about the scuba gear we took.”

Parker raised his eyebrows, trying to process what John B had just said. “Nice afternoon, man.”

“Yeah, right?”

Parker looked out to the scoop, suddenly remembering something.

“Is that damn turkey still in there?” He asked, and John B nodded.

“Should we bury it or burn it?” He asked, the question directed almost more to himself than to John, and watched him stack a lot of old stuff he recognized from his father’s office and from around the house on a pile.

“If you wanna burn it get it now, because I’m gonna burn all this junk here right now.” He said, taking out a box of matches.

Parker frowned. “You sure you wanna destroy all this?”

“Yeah, pretty.” John B lit the pile on fire and poured gasoline into the flames. They both watched at them in awe for a bit, but then Parker snapped out of it, grabbed an empty box and went to put the dead rooster inside.

“Rest in peace, or something.” He murmured, staring into the creepily open eyes of the animal. “I hope rooster heaven’s nicer than North Carolina.”

Then he closed the lid and crawled out of the scoop, just in time too see John B grab something from out of the fire and stomp on it to stop the flames.

“What the hell are you doing, man?”

But John didn’t answer, he just stared at the pin board he had just saved, as if it held the answers to all of his questions.

Then he looked up. “I think I know what Redfield means.”

[sie-werden-nie-vergessen]

a reunion - ethel & ephraim

Angstember Prompt No. 1 - “They Told Me You Were Dead”

(this turned out to be way more fluff than angst, but ehh oh well)

{spoilers for The Bellows Book}

Ephraim swallows at the thought of Harold, the sadness welling in his throat. A tear slips down his cheek, and for the first time in his life, he doesn’t try to hide it. As Ethel silently watches him, she realizes that she is looking at the same man that she left at Pennhurst; the one who is so full of self-hatred and grief and doubt that it’s a wonder that he’s even still standing.

“They told me you were dead”

Ephraim stands at the bottom of the stairs, his hat crumpled in his hands. He shifts from side to side, waiting for a response.

Ethel pulls the shawl tighter around herself. She’s smaller now than she was at Pennhurst, and her eyes are sunken. Still, her complexion is warm and her eyes are bright.

She’s getting better, he thinks.

Ethel shakes her head. Her hair floats around her face, the bun at the nape of her neck doing little to contain the soft curls. “No,” she says softly. “Did Ruthie tell you that?”

Ephraim takes a tentative step forward. The light snow crunches under his feet, and as he steps forward, he notices Ethel shivering. “No, she didn’t. The doctors at Pennhurst...they said….”

He trails off. He can’t bring himself to say it.

They stand in silence for a moment, Ephraim shifting back and forth while Ethel shivers quietly. She bites her lip, unsure of what to say.

“Diphtheria,” she says finally. “They thought it was TB at first, because of Violet.”

Her eyes well at the thought of Violet. Poor, poor sweet Violet...

And Harold too....

Ephraim swallows at the thought of Harold, the sadness welling in his throat. A tear slips down his cheek, and for the first time in his life, he doesn’t try to hide it. As Ethel silently watches him, she realizes that she is looking at the same man that she left at Pennhurst; the one who is so full of self-hatred and grief and doubt that it’s a wonder that he’s even still standing. 

The man who realized too late that he wanted to do good with his life.

The old Ephraim is gone, and Ethel is delighted.

She descends the stairs slowly, partly because of her weakness and partly due to the fact that she wants to be gentle. Ephraim has never been gentle; it isn’t his forte. However, he needed gentleness. He had needed gentleness his whole life and had been denied it at every turn, and that denial had bred a dangerous hatred in him, but that hatred was gone now. Ethel could see that plainly.

Reaching out, she places a hand on his arm, just below his shoulder. She pulls him closer to her, and he obliges. He still doesn’t look at her, however. He stares ahead as hot tears roll down his face, his jaw set tightly and his teeth clenched. 

Ethel slides her hand up his arm, allowing it to rest on his shoulder. She rests her other hand on his forearm and gently turns him to face more towards her. When he still doesn’t look at her, she moves her hand to his face, her thumb tracing over his cheek. 

Finally, he looks at her, and for once his eyes are soft. “Come inside,” she says softly. “You’ll get sick out here in the cold.”

He nods silently, and Ethel hooks her arm through his as she leads him up the steps and to the large oak door. Ephraim thinks of how silly it is that he - a doctor - is being led by a sick woman, but he says nothing. For once in his life, he doesn’t protest.

The stairs are icy and slick, and for a moment Ethel falters. Ephraim snaps out of his stupor and steadies her before she falls. When she regains her balance, she glances over her shoulder at him, her brown eyes gazing into his. It goes unsaid, but Ephraim understands completely.

Thank you.

You’re welcome.

They’ve never stood so close before, but Ephraim has little time to process this before the door swings open. Warm air rushes onto the doorstep as Ethel quickly pulls him inside. She shuts the door behind herself and laughs softly as she brushes snow from his shoulders. “You’re so red!” she cries, and Ephraim can’t decide if it’s because of the cold, or because of her. As he glances around the room, he notices Ruth emerging from what must be the kitchen. She’s wiping her hands on an apron, and the hem of her gingham skirt is speckled with flour. They lock eyes for a moment, and Ruth pretends to not notice the fact that he is as red as a beet.

Ethel laughs softly again, and Ruth smiles.

She hasn’t heard Ethel laugh in months, and despite her hatred for Ephraim Bellows, she can’t help but be happy to hear her cousin’s laughter. Ethel turns to her in excitement.

“He’s come back!” she exclaims, and Ruth nods in acknowledgment.

When Ethel turns her back, however, Ruth locks eyes with Ephraim once again. A silent threat passes between the two of them before Ruth quickly turns back to the kitchen, leaving them all alone. Ephraim wants to explain everything to her. He wants to assure her that he’s changed now, but he knows she wouldn’t believe him, not after what happened to Sarah.

Sarah.

Tears prick at his eyes at the thought of her, but this time he fights them. There’s no sense in upsetting Ethel. Not now, at least. He wonders half-heartedly if she’s seen Sarah’s files yet. Surely she has, after Ruth nearly broke into his office to berate him. Despite that, he isn’t sure. He doesn’t have much time to contemplate it, however, because Ethel soon ushers him into the parlor.

It’s a cozy room, with plush sofas and armchairs scattered around the room. A large fireplace sits against the far right wall, a plush pink armchair sitting in front of it. The chair is out of place with the rest of the furniture, and Ephraim decides that it must be Ethel’s. A side table sits beside it, its top covered in novels, further confirming Ephraim’s suspicions. They sit together on the sofa closest to the door. It’s a soft cream color, and it reminds Ephraim of home. 

He hates to be reminded of that place.

Just as they begin to settle themselves, Charles walks into the room and seats himself in the armchair opposite the pair. He stares at Ephraim for a moment before picking up a nearby newspaper and flipping it open.

Ethel shifts uncomfortably in her seat, feeling awkward now that her cousin is watching her. She knows what Ruth thinks of Ephraim, and therefore what Charles thinks by extension. She fiddles with the edge of a nearby pillow, her eyes trained steadily on the ground.

Ephraim, meanwhile, taps his foot nervously on the Persian rug that sits under their feet. It’s a pale green color, and it produces a soft thud, thud every time his shoe taps its surface. The only sounds now are the crackling of the fireplace, the whoosh of a turning paper, and the soft thud, thud of Ephraim’s shoe.

Ethel clears her throat, her voice still weak from the effects of diphtheria. “I missed you,” she whispers, her voice cracking a bit as she does so. Ephraim nods. “So did I.”

She nods in return, the remaining hair tumbling from the loose bun as she does so. Normally, it would be improper for a woman to wear her hair loose around anyone but the closest of family members, but considering the circumstances, neither she nor Ephraim is bothered. She’s sick, of course, and sometimes allowances must be made.

Ephraim swallows as his mind once again darts to Sarah.

You should have made allowances for her, too.

He shakes his head slightly, pushing the thoughts away. Now is not the time to upset himself, or Ethel. Instead, he focuses on her. Her hair is long, and it curls softly, but whether it’s by nature or by human manipulation, Ephraim isn’t sure. Either way, he decides, it suits her.

Suddenly Ruth calls from the kitchen for Charles, and he sets aside his paper with a look of annoyance. “I’m coming!” he calls, throwing a glare in Ephraim’s direction before striding out of sight.

When he’s out of their line of sight, Ethel smiles clumsily at Ephraim. She turns more towards him, her knees now pointed in his direction. She reaches out and grasps his hand, all the while keeping her eyes trained on his. She leans her head back onto the sofa while she watches him. It's as if she's unsure of what to say - and she isn't sure, especially not after what happened in Mill Valley.

Finally, she decides on the truth.

“I’m glad that you’re better.”

Ephraim nods, his eyes locked on hers.

“So am I.”

After a moment, she moves closer to him, leaning her head against his chest. He stiffens at the contact, unsure of what to do. Finally, he intertwines his fingers with hers, his free arm resting on her shoulder. Ethel places her other hand on top of their intertwined hands, nestling herself further against him. She sighs lightly, her thumb drawing across his. She smiles against his chest.

“Ruthie will kill us if she sees us like this.”

Ephraim smiles, his chin resting against her head. 

“I guess we’ll just have to make sure that she doesn’t.”

[iturbide]

(CheeseAndCake here) It is done. More CC!Edelgard in Heroes has been sent! I tried to make it clear that, while Edelgard has changed a lot, and is showing the dragonkin propper respect, her mind is still jumping to the thoughts she used to have before she gets a hold of her thought process. It’s still there, but she doesn’t let it show or let those thoughts dictate her actions and is doing her best to change it. I’m so proud of her.

You and me both her development as a character is absolutely fantastic, especially in the way that she still jumps to certain thoughts and then forcibly grapples with those very thoughts because she’s conscious of the fact that she needs to work on that.  I especially liked how she reminded herself that it’s the second thought that’s important rather than the first, because that’s really important for people who are trying to change: if we tell ourselves that the first thought is the only thing that matters, then we just feel ashamed and guilty for reacting in ways we’ve been conditioned to, and it stymies progress.  She really is working hard on changing, and that is absolutely something to take pride in.

You know who else would be proud of her?  The Bad End AU folks.

In the interests of keeping this at least kind of contained, I’ll just stick to the core group: Claude, Hilda, Ashe, Annette, and Nika.

Claude

After getting summoned, would take pains at first to avoid any Edelgard, in part because at the time he was summoned the Edelgard of his world probably doesn’t know he survived; he might even be going by his given Almyran name rather than his adopted Fodlani one, both to safeguard his identity and because he’s spent years back home where they use his true name...though the resemblance between him and the other Claudes would still give him away to some extent, even if he is older and wiser than they are.

CC!Edelgard would probably be the only one to actively seek him out, since the others tend to be very focused on their tasks and don’t care to make small talk with those who aren’t in their immediate circle of confidantes (Hubert, Byleth, etc; occasionally they would chat with Lysithea, but part of it would be trying to coax her to the Imperial side).  The first time she does, he would spend a solid ten seconds trying to size up the situation (because he’s pretty sure that’s Edelgard, but she’s not in the Imperial reds, but is she just trying to get him to lower his guard, or is there something else going on here?); having known someone very much like him for quite a while, it would be all the proof she needs to say with certainty that this is, in fact, Claude, because she doesn’t know anyone else that will just stare so intently at something (or someone) they’re trying to figure out.

She might try for the same Almyran icebreaker that she used with Legendary Claude, and for a split second he would get chills because fuck did Edelgard conquer Almyra too -- wait, no, if she did she’d probably make Fodlani the standard language, huh. The only sign of those internal thoughts would be a slight sharpening of his gaze as he looks at her, which would soften again once he comes to his far less dire conclusion and actually processes the words she said -- though at that point he’d laugh because him?  Ruler of Almyra?  He’s an advisor, she clearly has him mistaken for someone else.

Of course then she tags him as ‘heir’ instead (using the Almyran term), and his smile gets a little sharper, because if he’s guessing she only figured that out recently -- if she knew he was a prince at Derdriu, he suspects that she wouldn’t have tried to kill him.

CC!Edelgard let him go, of course.  But this is about as close to a direct admission as Claude’s ever come, and despite the maelstrom of thoughts and feelings swirling through her she pushes herself to ask if he’d like to talk about it over a game.

Claude isn’t one to pass up a game, honestly.  So the board is set, and they talk about their worlds over several matches; they don’t realize how time passes, engrossed as they are in the games and conversation.  Someone quietly brings them a meal once it gets late enough, and they each offer a distracted word of thanks, eating without ever putting the match on hold.

They discuss his world, and how the Edelgard he knew ordered his death, only for their professor to land a non-fatal (but convincingly mortal-looking) blow; how the situation in Fodlan made his dream as good as impossible, so he took an advisory position under his father when he returned to Almyra while establishing an information network stretching beyond its borders that he hoped would do Judith proud; how news of a Blaiddyd brought him secretly back to Fodlan to evacuate Dimitri’s half-brother Nikita, and how he’s tried to give Nika a life of his own choosing rather than molding him into a leader for Faerghus; and most of all, about the dire situation in Fodlan, and how Claude is willing to take the fight back across the border if that’s Nika’s choice once he comes of age so that the people there can live by their own choosing again.  

They discuss her world, and how she saw her conquest through, only to realize too late that she’d been deceived and manipulated from the start by Those Who Slither; how she was taken captive again, subjected to worse than she’d suffered as a child, until Claude and Dimitri’s cousin Ivanna created enough chaos for her to break free; how she joined them in the fight to put an end to what she had forged, casting aside the title of Emperor and seeking only to atone for her past evils in whatever way she could -- beginning with changing herself, expanding her view of the world and her understanding of its people along with it.  

Claude never imagined that Edelgard von Hresvelg, Emperor of Adrestia and Conqueror of Fodlan, would tell him that he’s right to try and stop her.  But then, this particular Edelgard has seen where her ambitions end up.  It’s heartening, in a way -- and while he doesn’t think she deserved what happened to her (no one deserves to suffer the way she did), he’s still glad that she’s managed to realize how narrow her previous worldview was, and he’s proud that she’s trying to broaden her horizons.  They might not become friends, necessarily, but he would be willing to help her work on that in much the same way that the Claude she knew did, which she would appreciate.

He’d also teach her more Almyran just because he can.  She’s going to go back able to hold basic conversations and just wait until her Claude hears that.

Hilda

Much like Claude, she might also be going by another name -- though in her case, it would be an assumed Almyran alias, since using her own name would be dangerous with her supposedly dying at Derdriu along with Claude.  She’s gotten used to it, for sure, but she also can’t wave off suspicion anywhere near as well as Claude does, since she has the classic Goneril Pink palette going on (and, as Claude’s mom pointed out when they first met, she’s too old to be Holst’s kid, so sister makes more sense -- and Holst only has one sister, officially).

Also like Claude, she would do her utmost to avoid any and all Edelgards, and for much the same reason: she was supposed to have died at Derdriu, so Edelgard realizing she didn’t could put her and Claude both in danger.  Lucky for her, most of the Edelgards don’t have much interest in cross-House socialization; however, CC!Edelgard takes an interest in Claude, and if there’s one thing Hilda absolutely will not allow, it’s someone threatening Claude, so when she sees the two of them in conversation, the second she recognizes that this is an Edelgard -- something that wouldn’t be immediately obvious to her, given the outfit change -- she’d be putting herself bodily between them with her axe at the ready.

Claude is far more amused by this than Edelgard is.  She’s not big on having weapons pulled on her, understandably, and there’s a momentary face-off between Hilda with her axe and Edelgard with her dagger before Claude inserts himself between the two women and suggests they just talk this out like reasonable people.

“Since when has Edelgard ever been reasonable?” Hilda scoffs.

“Since I was robbed of my freedom and nearly my life at the hands of foes I’d underestimated too long, and Claude offered me a chance to atone for my past.”

That’s enough to make Hilda take a step back.  Claude has no interest in speaking for or over Edelgard, but he acts as a mediator between them as they talk, calming arguments before they can get out of hand and generally guiding the flow of conversation.  Hilda isn’t as quick to trust Edelgard as he is, but even she can’t deny that what the former Emperor went through was something no one should have to face; she’s at least willing to give Edelgard a chance to change, and show proof of it -- and even she has to admit that the former Emperor’s progress is stark, in comparison to their last meeting.

Ashe

Unlike Claude and Hilda, Ashe doesn’t have a reason to hide his identity.  He wasn’t part of the final battle at Fhirdiad, having been charged with Nika’s evacuation before the Imperial Army arrived at the Kingdom capital, so there’s no illusion that would be broken by discovering that he’s alive.  His goal is to safeguard Nika’s life, and that’s what he intends to do.

Of course, this means that he has absolutely no love whatsoever for Edelgard or Hubert, since he believes (and Claude agrees) that it was the Emperor’s right hand man who’s been sending assassins after the young Blaiddyd.  Claude might have a fair-minded perspective when it comes to Edelgard (though he still condemns her actions, make no mistake, he just recognizes that she’s still human and has potentially deeply flawed motivations that drive her), but Ashe still harbors some intense hatred and resentment toward her.

Hilda might be willing to listen to CC!Edelgard (with Claude’s mediation), but Ashe has no interest in hearing what any Edelgard has to say.  He’s not openly aggressive with them, but he prefers to avoid them when possible -- and when he has to work with them, he’s terse at best, following orders to the letter so that he can distance himself from them as soon as possible.  CC!Edelgard would have to put in a concerted effort just to talk with him, and even then he’d be unimpressed.  She murdered his friend, her own step-brother -- something Claude’s secured proof of -- destroyed countless lives in the Kingdom (not to mention the Alliance and Empire), robbed nations of their independence and forced obedience on them...he might have done things he’s not proud of in the past, but he never committed atrocities the way she did.

He wouldn’t condemn her attempts to change.  He knows the importance of getting another chance, of making amends and atoning for past crimes -- but at the same time, she took so much from him that he wouldn’t be able to forgive her.  The pain she caused him is too deep and too personal, so while he would certainly acknowledge her growth and progress, he wouldn’t forgive her for what she did to him and his. 

She would acknowledge that he doesn’t have to forgive her, though.  She’s not going to try to win him over or change his mind -- but the apology is still important, because she recognizes the harm she caused him.  She’s going to keep striving to better herself whether he accepts her apology or not -- and when she leaves, promising that she’ll let him choose when and if they speak again, Ashe would know that she really means what she says.

Annette

Similar to Ashe, Annette doesn’t have a reason to hide her identity.  She wasn’t there for the fall of Fhirdiad, since Dimitri sent her off with Nika to keep him safe; the Empire has no reason to think she’s dead, so her being alive doesn’t need to be a secret.  All she’s trying to do is keep Nika safe, and that’s exactly what she intends to do.

Unlike Ashe, though, she doesn’t go out of her way to avoid the Edelgards, and generally only leaves shared spaces with them when she has something to do.  She knows how dangerous the Adrestian Emperor can be and generally is, so she prefers to stick closer to her friends in order to help keep them safe, specifically placing herself between Edelgard and her companion.  Ashe removing himself from places where Edelgard is present generally ends up removing Annette, too, since she’d much rather stay with him than linger around Imperials.

CC!Edelgard would likely be the first and only one who actually bothers approaching Annette -- and the moment she does, Annette would be on her guard.  If she’s with someone, she would try to send them away so they’re not in danger; if she’s alone, she would just be wary but open to at least trying to listen, since Claude has made some good points about Edelgard being human and therefore having very human motivations, however flawed the execution might have been...but at the same time, she’s still nursing raw wounds of her own.  Not only is Edelgard responsible for the death of her closest friends, she also saw to the death of her father -- and estranged or not, she wanted to give him a chance and try to rebuild their family.  None of that even gets into the fact that she can’t go home because of what Edelgard did to the Kingdom, or the fact that she ordered the murder of a child -- Blaiddyd or not that’s unconscionable to her.

Compared to Ashe’s icy loathing, Annette is much more passionate and emotional when it comes to her rebukes.  Nothing Edelgard could ever do will bring back Annette’s family or friends, and after all the harm she caused...Annette can’t forgive her.  Even if she understands what this Edelgard is doing, she just can’t bring herself to forgive that hurt.

But Edelgard would certainly understand that, by now.  And she would explain that she’s not trying to make Annette forgive her: the apology was necessary as an acknowledgement of her own wrongdoing, and so that Annette could know that she recognizes the pain she caused.  She’ll keep moving forward, striving to change and atone and avoid committing the same mistakes again.  And that would be what finally cements in her head that Claude was really right about her: she really is a person, someone driven and flawed...but also someone who can change, if she wants to.

Nikita

Nika, unlike the others, has never had a personal encounter with Edelgard at the time he was summoned.  He knows of her, primarily through accounts from Claude, Hilda, Ashe, and Annette, but he’s never seen her in person: he would only know to avoid her because the second they see her, Ashe and Annette would point Edelgard out to him and tell him to avoid her at all costs.

He would try, too.  Since he would spend a lot of time with his Kingdom guardians, he’d either end up leaving places with Ashe when Edelgard arrives or going elsewhere on Annette’s advice.  Hilda would be similarly defensive of him, though she would be confident in her ability to cover for him should Edelgard make a move and therefore wouldn’t encourage him to leave when they cross paths with the Emperor; Claude, meanwhile, would be the only person willing to engage with them, even if they don’t usually approach him.

Which is where CC!Edelgard comes in.  After they’ve started interacting on a somewhat routine basis, if she approaches Claude while Nika is with him, Claude would go out of his way to introduce them -- and since he would have discussed Nika before, CC!Edelgard would know exactly who he is. 

Nika’s heard a lot about Edelgard over the years.  Depending on where it comes from, it can be either scathing or even-handed but still critical.  And he would do his best to keep the latter in mind as he agrees to talk with her (with Claude mediating, because Nika would clearly want him there, judging by how he surreptitiously grips Claude’s hand when Edelgard makes the request).  He wouldn’t know what to expect from her, really...but the story she tells of her torture and manipulation at the hands of a shadowy force would be unlike anything he could have predicted.  There might be no real affection between the two, under the circumstances, but he would certainly be sympathetic to the suffering she endured, even if that doesn’t excuse her actions.

Given who Nika is, and what he intends to do, Edelgard might even try to help ensure his success as best he can: giving him what information she has about Those Who Slither, providing details on the Imperial Army’s structure and workings from her own world before everything went wrong -- anything and everything she can think of to ensure that when he goes back, he’ll be able to make Fodlan a better place than she did in her own world.  He would accept it with respect and gratitude and promise to do his all...but he would still feel very strange about interacting with the woman that killed his half-brother.  Even if he didn’t know Dimitri well, part of that is because she robbed him of the chance.

Ultimately he would be courteous and respectful, but he wouldn’t go out of his way to interact with her: he wouldn’t shy away from conversation when they happen to cross paths, but otherwise he would leave her to her own devices -- which, generally, would probably suit her, since she probably wouldn’t know what else to say to him.  Ultimately, though, Nika would admit that Edelgard isn’t the person that he thought she would be -- which, he supposes, goes to show how much effort she’s put into becoming a different person.

[sheadre]

Aurora Borealis (Jiang Cheng x Reader) Part Three

Summary: Zhu Ran'En (Reader) the imperial princess, was sent into exile for a crime she did not commit. Meeting Jiang Wanyin, the Yunmeng Jiang sect’s leader was not just a chance meeting. Their fates were written in the stars however, her relations to the royal family will never let her live in peace. How will she manage to save the kingdom while trying to keep Jiang Wanyin away from the snakes of the royal family?

Word count: 2713

Warnings: fluff, romance, idiots in love, awkward flirting, blood and violence later

Previous Chapter

Weeks have passed since you found out about who kidnapped your trusted ally. There was more probability to him being dead by now which left you with one less person trying to save the kingdom on your side. You groaned and sent letter to every other ally you had in the palace to stay out of trouble.

You needed them to stay alive and couldn’t let their identities revealed to your cousin and uncle. You pinched the bridge of your nose with a groan as the headache was forming at the mere thought of having to scheme your way through another plan. You hated being one step behind your snake of a cousin. Zhu HuaJin was always trying to outsmart you and get you in trouble. It felt like she knew your weak points but you were always doing excellently at finding hers. She hated you after getting her lover executed for treason even if you knew that she would’ve gotten into trouble along if she maintained the relationship. Especially with how envious and jealous her husband could be.

Lili poured you a fresh hot cup of tea before bowing and turning to leave but you lifted a hand and stopped her by grabbing her sleeve.

“Yes, your highness?” she asked curiously.

“Could you pack what is necessary for travel and tell the carter to bring out the carriage?” you asked without glancing up at her. You knew Lili could tell how tired you were and only bothered you whenever she needed to. She was not exactly a warm person but she was loyal especially after you saved her father from being beaten for misplacing herbs in one of the ministers’ special potions. Those potions were requested by those disgusting old men to ‘find the inspiration for some naughty times with young ladies’. So when Lili’s father misplaced a herb, it resulted in the minister’s private parts getting extremely itchy and red.

She’s been serving you for many years now and was one of your most trusted subordinates. You got up from your seat and walked up to the window with your hands behind your back. Your eyes scanned the streets of the city as you contemplated your next move. A few days ago, the one you were about to ask for help came here himself and threatened you. It left you little space to move but you couldn’t give up now. He didn’t understand that the future of the kingdom was at stake. Suddenly, a servant opened the doors with a worried expression on his face and approached you with a letter in his hands. He bowed as he stretched his hands in front of himself presenting the letter to you. You took it from his fingers and dismissed him with confusion.

However, that confusion quickly dissolved into horror as your eyes scanned through the words. You might be too late already.

Time skip ~

Yunmeng was quite spectacular. The scenery was calming and the weather was quite good. You watched the surface of the water as you sat in the small boat while the carter was paddling. Lili sat further from you her face a calm mask as she stared out at the calm lake. You were prepared for Jiang Wanyin’s first reaction when he will see you but he was your only shot especially now that your cousin and the second prince was planning on getting the crown prince killed in assassination.

You had no idea how much evil those two can conjure up but you were sure to stop them even if it cost you your life. How greedy and petty those two can be to not see their actions impacting the whole kingdom?! Once the boat was in the dock, Lili grabbed the few things you asked her to pack for you and stepped out of the boat before helping you out. To your surprise and pleasant disappointment, Jiang Wanyin was marching down the pier with his eyebrows furrowed glaring at you from the distance. You lifted your fan to your face to hide your mischievous smirk.

“Jiang sect leader!” you waved with a wide smile. “Nice seeing you again!”

“What are your highness doing here?” he hissed as politely as he could. He was pissed for sure but you were ready to butter him up and get on his good side.

“I believe that is something we should discuss privately” you replied with a serious expression. “I got a letter from the Imperial Palace.”

His face turned from annoyed to concerned before he reluctantly nodded and led you towards the entrance. You stared at his broad shoulders and tried to keep your hands from grabbing them and squeezing them. It surprised you how much this man was making you feel these urges. Desire was burning in your chest like an uncontrollable raging fire. Maybe it was because he wasn’t like the other men who ate out of your hands after you smiled at them.

Yunmeng was beautiful. Lotus pods everywhere, blooming flowers swimming on the water while the servants and disciples were hurrying one point to the other. You sometimes wished to have such a busy life that was filled with simple duties. You were busy in a whole different kind of way and sometimes you felt like you were going insane. Always scheming, always on the road, always looking back to check your surroundings who would try to stab you in the back.

Jiang Wanyin led you into the main hall where he sat down in the lotus throne and motioned for everyone to leave closing the door behind themselves. You pulled out the letter and gave it to him, your gaze unwavering as you looked at his handsome features.

“I got that letter from Lin Minister, the Minister of the Imperial Clan” you spoke up. “He has always been looking out for me due to our common interests.”

“Which are?” he asked lifting an eyebrow. He was still not trusting you but you couldn’t blame him. You were announced dead but are still running around like some ghost and when he wanted answers, you bombarded him with answers he couldn’t really comprehend or understand because they were connected to all the scheming snakes of the Imperial Palace.

“To ensure the crown prince takes the throne one day” you replied unwavering as you stared back at him. His lips pressed into a thin line as he contemplated your words before his eyes flitted down to the letter, reading it carefully. You waited with bated breath watching how his brow seemed to darken as he read through the lines. You silently stood there frozen in place thinking about your next step. You always came up with tons of plans and other plans for each of them in case any of them blows up. After an eternity of silence, Jiang Wanyin lifted his gaze back up to you, the shadows on his handsome face never fading. His eyes looked piercingly through you but standing his gaze wasn’t as hard as everyone else would think.

“If this gets in the wrong hands, your highness” he spoke up. “The whole kingdom will be in grave danger.”

“Why do you think I came here, Jiang sect leader?” you huffed taking the letter back from him. “I am asking for your help. There is no one else who can stop this.”

“Why do you think I can do anything?” he asked back confused. “This is much more serious than what the Jiang sect disciples and soldiers can offer. There is not enough men to fight. With all due respect, your highness, you do not know anything about militaristic affairs.”

You narrowed your eyes at him lifting your fan in front of your face as you scowled. He was right, you only knew how to manipulate, how to deceive and how to play people against each other. But it was a useful skill in battle. You swallowed your pride and nodded.

“I am aware, Jiang sect leader” you spoke calmly. “But I have plans. I only need you to be the key figure when it comes to leading an army. I already sent word to the Imperial Palace for my allies to gather men. I can assure you that I have resources.”

“Why do you need me as a key figure?” Jiang Wanyin stood up from his seat walking up to you. He was easily towering over you, staring you down trying to pry the truth from you. You lowered your fan revealing a mischievous smirk on your lips as you patted his chest leaning forward a little, your noses almost touched at the tip as you spoke:

“That is something only I need to know” you said before turning around and leaving him alone in the main hall, knowing exactly how his handsome face showed his confusion. It was such a nice feeling leaving men dumbfounded.

Time skip ~

You expected Jiang Wanyin to kick you out of his home but to your surprise, he did not. You ate breakfast with him in the main hall, his eyes staring a hole in your skull as you sipped on your tea carefully. You couldn’t deny the thrill his attention was giving you. It was so satisfying to piss him off yet pick his interest, wake up his curiosity. Suddenly, the doors burst open and the Great Yiling Patriarch waltzed in with a large grin on his face.

“Jiang Cheng! Why did you close the do- Oh, hello, there” his eyes quickly spotted you before he was kneeling in front of you, leaning on the table with his elbows while his palms supported his chin. You chuckled at his childish demeanor.

“Nice to meet you again, Wei gongzi” you greeted and motioned for him to sit next to you. “Would you like to have some tea?”

“Jiang Cheng, why didn’t you tell me you were serious about her highness?! I need to find a good wedding gift now!” he whined at Jiang Wanyin. You laughed quietly as you turned to him and patted his shoulder gently.

“I would need to propose to him then, Wei gongzi” you spoke up with a playful smirk on your lips. “Jiang sect leader is too shy.”

“Who is too shy?! You both are just- Argh!” Jiang Cheng jumped up and walked out of the hall, his steps heavy and his shoulders pulled up to his ears in irritation as he left. You couldn’t help but laugh heartily at his reaction especially after noticing how red his ears were.

“But really, your highness, why are you here?” Wei Wuxian asked his face turning more serious. “Have you found anything more about the attacker in Chongyang?”

“Unfortunately… I have more upsetting news” you sighed pulling out the letter and offering it to Wei Wuxian. You knew that he could be a good ally. You’ve heard how he stood up against the late Jin sect leader, Jin Guangyao. Wei Wuxian was witty and smart, you could definitely use his insights besides he fought in the campaign against the Wen sect. You watched his features change as he read through the lines. “Wei gongzi, this has to stay between us.”

“I assume you already have plans, your highness” he narrowed his eyes as he gave the letter back to you.

“Maybe… but I still need time and more information” you sighed. “The first part of the plan is for me to get back to the Imperial Palace.”

“If it was announced that you were executed, how is that possible?” he asked confused.

“I have to return there as an honorable princess who discovered the wicked ways of her cousin” you lifted the cup to your lips after you answered his question. You eyes lifted to the opposite side of the hall where another table was sitting. You remember how you had to watch your cousin’s smug smile the night you were accused of money laundering. You should’ve seen the signs but you were too preoccupied with everything else.

“I like these kind of plans” he smirked waking you from the sea of memories trying to suffocate you. You put your cup down and got up from your seat.

“Please wait with teasing Jiang sect leader until I get back, Wei gongzi” you winked at him and left the hall. You had much to do until you could execute the first part of your plan. You were the Imperial Princess of this kingdom and its people, your only job was to protect it and bring peace to the citizens. You were their princess because only you had the power to protect all these people if needed. Even if it cost your life.

Jiang Cheng’s PoV.

The hardest thing for Jiang Wanyin was to tolerate all the guests who decided to visiting Yunmeng was a good idea. First, Zhu Ran’En decided to appear and ruin his plans of getting away from the elders pestering about finding a wife. The moment the rumors got out about him and the mysterious noble lady, the elders were knocking on his door asking for confirmation and showing him their wedding plans. It was excruciating to say the least and now Wei Wuxian decided to stop by again so he could pester him about wanting a niece or nephew.

His brother had the audience to make whining noises imitating a woman’s voice telling Jiang Cheng he was only trying to show him how the princess would call him on their wedding night. In the end, the sect leader found himself whacking the training dummies in a secluded part of the gardens which was only available for him. Sweat dripped down from the tip of his nose as he panted heavily trying to gain his bearing after stopping hitting the dummy. The frustration of the last few days seemed to dissolve a bit now that he beat the crap out of the poor mannequin.

“I see you could finally have some time for yourself, sect leader” her melodic voice spoke from his right. Jiang Cheng heard the mischievous smirk in her voice and heard her small careful steps approaching him. He had to admit that she was quite charming if she decided to act decent though that was a rare occasion.

“The elders are spouting rumors about us” he grumbled as he glanced at her. Zhu Ran’En smiled gently and lifted up a basket probably filled with food.

“You ate nothing during breakfast and it is already lunch time” she offered, her eyes piercing into his but with curiosity. This woman was infuriating yet charming and endearing. Delicateness was definitely one of her traits too.

“I’m not hung-“ he was about to decline the offer but was interrupted by his stomach grumbling loudly. Zhu Ran’En’s eyes widened before she start mirthfully laughing. Her small hand grabbed his and pulled on it leading him into another part of the gardens where a small pavilion stood proudly in the sun light. The princess carefully set the small stone table in the middle and poured him some tea. It was fascinating to see how punctual everything was according to Imperial etiquette.

“It was taught to me so thoroughly that I can set the table properly even after being woken up from a deep sleep” she chuckled because of course she knew what he was thinking about. Maybe it was easy to guess after all, people in lower ranks were unfamiliar of the strict ways of the court.

“What did you mean when you said you want me to become a key figure in defending the kingdom?” Jiang Cheng asked without much further ado. He had to know in case it was a plan that would turn against him. He wasn’t willing to sacrifice his sect for this rogue princess just because she was trying to gain the emperor’s favor back. He was reckless in many ways but he was no longer the naïve youth he once was.

“If you’re afraid of getting played over, I have no intentions of that” she replied with her tone firm. The princess motioned over the table with a delicate move before continuing: “I’ll tell you about my plans over lunch, I am quite famished.”

To be continued…

Tag list:

[achilleasfury]

Jeff the killer oneshot [part 2]

part one: https://zilia1938.tumblr.com/post/629080390160859136/homicidal-liu-oneshot-part-1

TW: DID/switching(I did my research, yes of course, but I'm still not a pro and this disorder, or how it looks like and so. I'm very sorry if I portrayed it wrong, and if this is the case, please tell me.), murder, scars

Liu. It was Liu. Liu was alive. He hadn't killed Liu. He couldn't help it. He started laughing. He couldn't stop it. He giggled loud and shrill. It sounded so crazy. "Why Liu, why? What did you want to do?" Liu closed his eyes. Did he have to think about it? Jeff suppressed his giggles. "Come on. Answer me!" "Uh, boss? Why does he call you Liu? Why does he call you brother?" "Stop asking, Jeremy." "No-no, sir. We just want to know the truth. Why does he call her that?" "You too, Chris?" Liu sighed up. Jeff tilted his head. He fixed the two policemen. "I wonder why? Are you that incompetent? "Jeff-" Uhh, Liu had finally said his name. How long had it been since he had heard the name from Liu's mouth? Seven years and a few months. This reminded Jeff why he had done it. Why he had killed that family. Why he had been back in the forest. Three months after his parents were killed after he had fled, it had been Liu's birthday. By then, their coffins were already in the ground. Jeff had been at the funeral. His parents were almost completely burned, only some bones were left. Relatives had come. His aunts and uncles, his cousins, and cousins. They had all been there. They had all listened to the sermon. The adults, especially the older ones, had complained about the well-behaved, well-behaved Liu, who deserved much better. How selfless he had been. Jeff had been there. He had been standing in the shade of the trees, a bit away. His head lowered. He had listened to the sermon. It had been held in the open. To make it more comfortable. Not in a building, as they had died. So that their souls could find peace in the open air. How poetic. How fucking poetic. Jeff hated poetry. He detested them so much. Liu had loved poetry. He had loved words. How to twist and turn them. How much the emphasis on meaning mattered. Liu had loved to say ambiguous things. He had loved to confuse Jeff, to say things he meant differently. Simply because he had forced him to by words. Liu had been gifted. How much everyone had mourned him. Anger. Hate. Emotions. emotions. They flooded through him. A shiver crawled down his back. "Come on, Liu. Just admit it. You are not James Hodek." Liu bit his teeth. A soft growl escaped his throat. How much the brothers had changed. Liu seemed to have become aggressive. Jeff had become unstable. He tended to freak out. To fight. Attacking random people. "I won't admit anything that's not true" "Oh, Liu. Why are you lying?" Jeff tilted his head, fixed his brother. "You can't deny it. Especially-" Jeff had to interrupt. Again he giggled. It was such a surreal situation. He was facing Liu. And Liu showed no reaction. He was completely frozen. "There's a resemblance, isn't there?" "Where should there be a resemblance between us?" Liu didn't use any form of address Neither Jeff, nor brother, nor Woods. Or murderer. Scum. Many had called him that. Why not Liu? Why not his brother? "Our Scars, Liu." Now he had made Liu tense. At last. A goddamned emotion. "They fit together pretty well, don't they?" "I don't know which scars you mean!" "Yes, you do. But you know very well! You had them healed." Of course, he did. Jeff was sorry for the pain he had caused his brother. His big brother. Who nevertheless always looked up to him. But he had had to do it. He had been in a frenzy. High. High on blood. "Boss, can you explain what's going on?" "Of course, I heal scars. But I don't see why I should have any of yours, Jeff." Cold. God. Now Liu was cold again. Jeff hated it. "Why don't you explain it to your two colleagues? It's no big deal, bro-" Liu closed his eyes. His hand trembled. "Chief-please say this is a bad joke!" "Shut the hell up, Jeremy! My God!" Liu yelled. Anger. Why was Liu angry? Something changed in his attitude. He stood more upright. "Get up, Jeffrey!" An order. Liu wanted to give him an order. Jeff laughed. "Why should I?" Asking, he tilted his head. "I think you're forgetting who's got the gun here." "Um, boss. I hate to say this, but Chris and I have guns, too. "Oh, really?" Liu turned to them, smiling tensely. Then he raised his right arm. Two shots. Liu had shot his colleagues. "You aim well." Jeff panicked. He wasn't really scared of dying. He wasn't afraid of pain. He was afraid of revenge. "Thank you. I know that very well." Liu's head twitched to one side. His gaze wandered confusedly back and forth for several seconds. Then he fell on the corpses. Immediately, he flinched back. "Holy fuck, Sully- this is not supposed to happen like this." He spoke softly. "Who's Sully? Liu?" "Jeff-no. Not important." "Oh, no? You, or this Sully guy, just killed two innocent people. That was my job!" "Leave it! I have more problems right now than your offended ego. Liu could hiss? Like a cat. A smile crept on Jeff's lips. As if he hadn't always smiled. "Come on, Liu. We're brothers~" "Are we? Is it really us?" "Of course we are. Why wouldn't we be?" I don't know. Maybe because you killed me?" Liu raised his voice. He sounded louder, angrier. Jeff couldn't understand. "But you're still alive?" "Again. I'm alive again." "Not possible- dead is dead!" Jeff knew better. As if his first killings weren't giving him enough nightmares already. He didn't regret killing his parents. He regretted killing his brother. But he couldn't help himself. He had been in a frenzy. That was an excuse, wasn't it? Yes. It had to be. It would have fit- "Dead is dead. Yes. Of course." "How. Liu. "How." But Liu just turned away, removing his colleagues' pistols. He threw one of them at Jeff. "Catch." Did Liu trust Jeff? Jeff joyfully caught the gun and stroked the barrel tenderly. "Where did you get the gift?" Liu seemed to want to answer. But his attitude changed. It was not Liu anymore. It was someone else. Someone else in Jeff's brother's body. "Liu?" Hesitation. Jeff didn't know what to feel. Fear? Panic? Joy? Liu seemed to recognize him, to accept him. As a brother. "No." "No"? "Not Liu. I am Sully." What are you? "A protector. Someone who exists only through you. Created by a monster. Created by you. Because you killed Liu! He would have burned up in the fire if the firemen hadn't found him! He should hate you." Sully laughed out loud. How strange these words were. To hear them through Liu's mouth. Liu, who was still his brother "But no, he doesn't hate you. He can't stop seeing you as his brother. After all, you've done to him! You ruined his life. Have you ever thought about Liu? While you set the house on fire? While you ran away? For the past seven years?" Jeff just looked Sully in the eyes. The green. The beautiful green Liu's. "Every day. Every damn day when I was sober, I could think. Every fucking day I regretted it! But it happened. That's the way it is. I got over the fact that I killed my big brother, who always looked up to me! That I carry his blood on my hands! In the end, I didn't care! Dead is dead!" Sully raised his gun. "Dead is dead. Maybe it's better if you're dead. Jeffrey. I'll see you in hell." Then he fired.

[skvaderarts]

Hiraeth Chapter 50: Interconnection

Masterlist can be found Here!

Chapter Fifty: Interconnection

Note: *Laughs in copious amounts of foreshadowing.* Oh, how I have waited for this day. I have so patently placed the cards in their places, and now I can finally flip them over and show their faces. You have no idea how excited I am! And at chapter 50, no less! Absolutely perfect!

(-~-)

A larger crowd had begun to form around the station as local law enforcement showed up to help mitigate the damage and secure the perimeter. The power had been knocked out for several city blocks, taking security cameras and traffic lights out of commission. It would no doubt prove detrimental to the investigative efforts of all the local authorities, many of whom could be overheard discussing the possibility of a terrorist attack as they tried to disperse the growing number of worried onlookers. They needed clearance to evacuate the injured civilians and start structural and criminal investigations.

Several eyewitnesses spoke of a figure in a white coat causing the train to derail by some unknown method. No one present was sure how it had happened, but they did know what had happened, and they were eager to find a method of keeping it from happening again. Everything had happened so suddenly with no apparent explanation or motive, and no one knew what would happen next. But a small group of the survivors did have something insightful to add to the conversation, giving their own ground zero testimony to one of the news outlets that had shown up to cover the attack.

“There was this group of like three or four people who helped get us out of the train and they were trying to keep that person in the white coat away from us. I think it might have been a guy? Can’t say, they were wearing a mask or something. I didn’t get a good look at them. But anyway, we’re all very thankful that they were able to help us. We hope they are okay and that they didn’t get trapped inside during the cave-in.” One younger man had said as the paramedics had been in the process of tending a minor injury that he had sustained during the attack.

“I don’t know what to even say. Were so lucky that they were there to get us out of that situation. There were demons in that terminal. I don’t know how many there were, but there was at least one. What’s happening in this place? Every few years or so something like this happens!” One of the interviewed survivors had said, shaking her head in confusion and horrified sorrow. “I was in Redgrave City when that thing started coming out of the ground. Down in the crowd trying to figure out what was going on when these spiky things came out and started to come after everyone. My family barely escaped with our lives. I swear I recognized at least two of them. They came out of that thing and it seemed like they were trying to do something to help stop it. I wish we knew who they were so that we could thank them. I get the feeling that we all might owe that small group of people more than we realize. I mean, what are the odds that they would be there to save us all both times?”

“Looks like they’re talking about you lot on the news,” Magnolia said as she reached over to turn the volume down on the TV. None of them had even noticed that she had owned it before, having not spent a lot of time in her attic greenhouse up until then. She then turned to the rest of the group, gesturing towards the young man who sat just across from them on the other side of the room. “Tell them what you told me. Speak truthfully. Believe me, they will know if you don’t”

Shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Whatever he was here to say clearly didn’t agree with him. “No problem. Wouldn’t make much sense for me to come here and seek you out just to lie to you, especially with what’s at stake. But first, I want to be upfront with you. We’ve met before. About two months ago. That’s why I’m here in the first place. It took me forever to track you down, but I finally did. I just wish it hadn’t taken so long.”

Dante and Vergil looked at one another for a moment, both of them unsure as to how they could have met this individual before. Perhaps he had met V or Nero? He certainly didn’t seem familiar to them. “Okay wait, slow down. Let’s start from the beginning.”

“What’s your name?” Vergil asked, not quite fed up with this individual, but not in the mood to really entertain conversation with him, either. It was probably best that he got to the point sooner rather than later. And on that note, who was this individual? Were they a relative of Magnolia’s? It was unlikely considering the severe lack of blood male descendants of the Ludwig family, but it wasn’t entirely impossible. Marriage was always a possibility. Or perhaps he was a cousin?

“My name is Brenowin. Brenowin Linquist. But you can just call me “Bren.” Less of a mouthful.” He attempted to make himself more comfortable for a moment as he sat down on the built-in ledge next to a few of the botanist’s plants, shrugging to himself. “Before you stab me, I’d like you to know that I didn’t come here to get revenge or anything like that. I can tell that you still don’t remember me. I’m… the guy you spared back in the woods that night who told you where your son was. I’m glad you were able to get him back-”

He stopped, jumping back in fright as Vergil manifested and drew Yamato, springing towards him in a bid to end his life, Dante grabbing him in an effort to keep him from utterly destroying the younger man, and barely succeeded, earning him surprised looks from everyone in the immediate vicinity and an irritated glare from Magnolia. She shook her head and pointed for Vergil to sit down again, annoyed. “Do you honestly think he would be here if I thought he was dangerous? Have some faith, Vergil. I understand your anger and I have nothing but sympathy, but he didn’t have to come here and put himself in this situation. At least hear him out before out you try and murder him, especially while you are in my house.”

Vergil paused for a moment, clearly displeased, but willing to do as she’d asked him. It made sense after all. He couldn’t deny that. He backed up, breathing deeply before exhaling and sitting down. He waved his hand to indicate that their guest could continue speaking, but he would be listening to him intently and with malice. That much was clear. “Continue.”

A relieved sigh escaped the younger man’s lips as he nodded, unsure as to what he could really say that he hadn’t already to atone for his past mistakes and remedy his misgivings. “Do you remember the night that the conduit went critical? Well, you’re in the clear there. It’s not unstable anymore. But that’s the least of our problems.”

“Our problems?” Vergil said, folding his arms around his chest. He truly wanted nothing more than to stab something to death right now. What was going on this time? “I don’t recall us agreeing to work as a collective.”

Bren shrugged, nodding in agreement. He couldn’t really disagree with that. And to be fair, he wasn’t attacking him this time, at least. That was an improvement from the last time. He would have a very hard time trusting someone who had done what he had done, but maybe if he was more forthcoming, they would be able to work things out.

“Yes, “our” as in “we’re all equally dead if this situation doesn’t work itself out. Every last one of us.” He stood up slowly, gesturing in a pleading manner. “Belial has something big planned, and he needs your son for it. I overheard one of his messengers say as much when he returned. He left during the attack from what I understand, and after the devil prince decided that he wanted the cult dead, he had been systematically killing us all. I’m just an initiate who joined a little while ago, so I guess I’m a low priority, but everyone else either fled or left, and so I guess I’m the only one left. I managed to get him to trust me enough for him to think I’m doing his bidding, but after what he did to your son, I could never. Like I said before, I didn’t sign up for this. I was just in a dark place in my life and didn’t want to be alone. I had no idea what I was getting myself into, but I still want to make it right. At this point, that’s the least I can do. The cult caused so much suffering… I don’t want to be a part of that. It’s how I lost everything in the first place.”

“What did you lose that would drive you to such extremes?”

Everyone in the room looked over at V as he spoke, honestly forgetting that he was there. After they had returned from the train station with Vergil, everyone had gone their separate ways in order to allow Magnolia to treat Flora's injuries. They hadn’t been grave by their standards, but for a human? She needed quite a few stitches and now she was on bed rest. The botanist ensured them that she would make a full recovery, but that was yet to be seen. All any of them could do for now was hope that she was alright, and that weighed heavily on V for reasons he couldn’t pinpoint. Perhaps he just didn’t like putting others in harm's way for his sake.

“Look… all I’ve got left in this world is my younger step-sister. My mom died when I was a kid, and a few years back her mom and my dad got together. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I just really want her to be safe. If he just wanted me dead, I would walk over there right now and let him kill me. And even though that would break her heart, she’d be alive and I would have done something worthwhile with my life, ya know?” He looked down at the floor for a long moment, clearly cut deeply by his own words. Anyone present could tell that there was a truth to that statement that he didn’t want to recognize but he did. “But the truth is, he wouldn’t stop there. You're not the only person he’s after. He had other motives for wanting her, and I won’t pretend that I know them, but they can’t be good. And if he gets your son and manages to do whatever it is that he’s been talking about with Belial, this entire region will be the first to go. After that, probably the whole world.”

Dante nodded to himself, taking that in for a moment. “So how does your sister play into this, and what’s Belial’s plan?”

Bren shrugged. “I couldn’t tell you. I guess they think she’d be good for whatever it is that they have planned. But Belial needs your son to enact his master plan. Specifically, he wants to bring him to the Underworld for something. I didn’t overhear any details, but I think that’s bad enough. And apparently, now that he’s back, he has a way to accomplish that. You need to keep him safe. I can’t stress that enough. This guy has more things up his sleeve than you might think. He’s very dangerous.”

“Okay then. That makes sense. So, where’s your sister? Does she even know that she might be in danger?” Nero asked with a concerned look. He didn’t like the implications of her brother’s actions entrapping her in this situation. It hit a little too close to him for him personally. “And what do you mean they’re back? Who’s back?”

“Magnolia kindly agreed to have her brought here from a few towns over. She should be arriving any moment now. She was going to boarding school, and she just graduated a few months ago. It’s been a rough year for her after our parents died in the Redgrave City attack. That’s what derailed me and sent me down the path that led to me joining the cult. They were recruiting people in the area after everything that happened, and I thought that maybe they would help me find some way to protect her. They said as much. But now I know that they were probably just planning to hurt her from the very start. I should have known better. But at least now I can fix mistakes.”

Vergil felt his blood run cold for a moment at that revelation. So his actions had inadvertently led to this situation in more ways than one… He supposed that that was probably only fair, but for V to be caught up in this once again… 

“I… Your parents' deaths were unfortunate and needless. You have my sympathies.”

Dante allowed his eyes to travel towards his older twin for a moment, noticing the grief in that statement. He believed Vergil. It seemed now that the ghosts of his past truly had come back to haunt him. It had probably never occurred to him that he would be the very monster to someone else that those demons had been to them so many years ago.

“Thanks. I appreciate that.  But either way, I have some insight into what Belial has planned, and I really hope that it turns out to be helpful to you guys. I’m no fighter. Heck, I’d never hurt a fly. But I’d like to think I’m not that stupid.” He looked at Vergil more sincerely at that moment, seemingly uncomfortable with whatever he was about to say but still willing to say it. Perhaps that was something that the Darkslayer should try more often himself. The irony wasn’t beyond him. “Thanks for helping keep us safe. You sparing me was the moment I realized that I had really gone down the wrong path. We were supposed to be about unity and peace. You don’t get that by kidnapping and probably murdering innocent people.”

He was wise for his age. Vergil couldn’t deny that. But he also knew that he should probably tell him the truth in regards to what had happened to his parents. But he would wait until his sister arrived and they had privacy. It was best that he not broadcast his failures to the entire room, even if everyone there besides him did know what had happened already. He didn’t have the fortitude to confess his wrongdoings in such a manner. It was like being put on trial, even though a part of him realized that that was probably something that he wholeheartedly deserved.

V glanced between his father and Bren, a young man who was still to him at least a stranger. He could feel the tension rolling off of his father in waves, the enormity of his past actions weighing heavy on him at that moment. He had been confronted with his not-so-distant past in a very literal way, and it had utterly blindsided him. The fact that he had wronged this individual so greatly without his knowledge and he was standing there willing to help them was utterly uncomfortable to the Darkslayer, and there was a part of V that was admittedly glad for that. It wasn’t just because he needed to truly see how his actions affect others, but because it showed something arguably more important: his father was capable of feeling remorse for the actions he’d committed against a perfect stranger. Deep down, he was much more human than V liked to imagine Vergil would ever admit. There was something comforting to be found in that.

Brenowen looked mournful for a moment before looking over at V, obviously not wanting to have to say what he needed to say. “As for who has returned, I believe that the two of you have already met. The night that the cult took you? You met a man named Agreus…”

His breathing paused for a moment as he swore that he felt his heart stop beating. How could he forget? In fact, he could still feel that knife just by thinking about it. But he had thrown him through that conduit. Surely he hadn’t survived that. But then again, that explained the limp. He had stabbed him in the leg, after all. They were going to need to get Sirrus to translate that book for them as soon as humanly possible. And then they were going to ship it off to the Ludwig estate. This couldn’t be good.

Just a moment later, there was a knock at the door. Magnolia stood up, stretching as she sat down the cup of tea she’d been drinking. “Come in, dear. Though you should probably still be in bed.”

In stepped Flora, slightly pale and tired looking, but otherwise more or less okay. They all gave her a reassuring look, the young magician weaving them off playfully as she came into the room. “Don’t worry about me, everyone. I’ll be just fine. I’m a big girl. I can take a couple of cuts and bruises. Honestly, I think I’ve had worse cramps. That demon’s a total pushover.” 

Lucia tried to pretend that she didn’t find that comment funny, but she did. She allowed herself a small giggle, looking over at the twins' surprised faces as they looked several different kinds of confused and embarrassed. Nero simply nodded, having heard similar things from Kyrie in the past. He had nothing in his heart but sympathy and compassion for her alleged suffering. V simply closed his eyes and chuckled soundlessly to himself, shaking his head. Flora was truly something else. He was glad that she was still with them.

But before she could make it very far, there was a distant sound, one that caught all of their collective attention. A second knock became apparent, only this time from the front door downstairs. Flora groaned and headed down the stairs ahead of them, cursing herself for marching up all of those stairs only to have to go back down them. What had she done to dissolve such treatment? Bren sprang up, eager to head to the door. “That’s probably my sister! You said they would be dropping her off soon.”

Magnolia nodded. “That I did. And I’m not expecting anyone else.”

The group then migrated down the stairs to the living room, admittedly wondering to themselves what this young woman looked like. She was his step-sister, after all. That meant that she could look completely different from Brenowin. His shoulder-length black hair and dark blue eyes were admittedly striking, but there was no blood between them to speak of. It was possible but unlikely.

Approaching the door, Magnolia unlocked it from the inside and stepped out of the way to allow their new guest to enter the room while the rest of them made themselves comfortable on the couch. V was still making his way down the stairs behind Nero as she did so, taking a mental note of the fact that Nero Vergil and Dante had already reached the couch, Bren staying closer to the kitchen. It seemed that he still expected Vergil to try and kill him. To be fair, he himself wasn’t sure that the possibility was 100% off the table just yet. Just about 95%. But before he could continue that though, Magnolia opened the front door and greeted the person who had knocked on it. And V had stopped dead in his tracks in the middle of the entryway. It was perhaps the only time that any of them could ever say that they'd ever genuinely seen V look shocked.

Before them stood a pretty young woman with sandy brown hair, hazel eyes, and freckles, her two luggage bags placed on the ground at her feet. She was in the process of picking them up, but had stopped to shoot a warm smile at her host, allowing V a momentary glance at her face. And judging by the sudden uptake in V’s heart rate, genuinely couldn’t believe his eyes. There was just no way that she could be… 

“Morgan?!” He said out loud at a volume that surprised both himself and everyone else in the room. He hadn’t actually meant to speak that aloud, but he simply hadn’t been able to stop himself. It was just too shocking for him to believe.

She looked up from her bags, utterly surprised to hear what was clearly a familiar voice calling her name, but one that she was sure he hadn’t heard in a number of years. The second she made eye contact with him, she dropped all of her belongings on the front steps, wide eyes elation spreading across her face. She teared up as she looked at him, trembling not from the frigid cold outside but from the joy that she felt brimming up inside of her. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing, either. “V?!”

He nodded slowly. Without warning she leaped forward, throwing her arms around him in a tight embrace. And at that moment he realized just how much he’d missed her when he didn’t even feel repulsed by her unexpected touch. In fact, he welcomed it, frozen in place from shock, but barely holding back the fact that for reasons he couldn't explain, he felt just as strongly about seeing her again as he had the day she’d left and he’d realized that he would probably never see her again.

Morgan leaned back for a moment, taking in the sight of him as she wiped her face, panting from excitement. Her eyebrows then furrowed slightly, a light chuckle expanding her diaphragm and allowing a soft chuckle to escape her tightly clenched lips. “When did you get these tattoos, V?! Gotta say, they're pretty wicked, man!”

Shaking his head slightly he gave in and returned the favor, grabbing her into a soft but firm hug, much to the surprise of everyone else in the room. Nero was the only other person who could recall ever being hugged by V. “It’s a bit of a long story.”

(-~-)

I know that this is gonna make some of you very happy! I remember several of you telling me how much you liked her and how much you hoped to see her make a second appearance, so it was an obvious choice. After all, why add someone new when you already have Morgan? Anyway, I’ll see you in the comments and the next chapter is going up on Friday! Hope to hear from you all again soon! Have a nice Wednesday!

[murphismycat]

*SPOILERS* My Thoughts on The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes before I Forget

Ok, first of all, I actually really loved this book. I think it is beautifully done, even if it is almost nothing like I expected. There were a few things that I thought were going to be in the book that actually were: the development of the Hunger Games as we know them by year 74, the first mockingjays, the first district 12 winner of the Games, and the beginning of Snow’s use of poison to rise to power. I was worried that this single book would not be able to capture the complexities of the original trilogy, but I actually think it did. No, there is not quite the same sense of calculated manipulation in this book, but that is because we are the ones watching Snow become that manipulator. The way he thinks is fascinating. He’s basically a textbook Slytherin obsessed with political theory, and we are able to witness his transformation into who we know he becomes. I feel like this is one of those books that I will grow to appreciate the more I think about it.

There were some things that I thought were odd, particularly in the first half of the book. The fact that the Hunger Games had been operating as they had for ten years was almost unbelievable to me. They would literally just bring in these kids and dump them in the arena with no food, water, or change of clothes. Also, it was the same arena every single year. No one even watched the games. If the entire point is to force people to remember what happened, and understand why control is necessary, why would they not make a greater effort to make it more of a spectacle? I feel like the way we see the Games in Katniss’ years makes more sense, and I understand that Snow was instrumental in forming the games that we know, but it seems odd to me that the geniuses that are supposed to be in charge let the games exist as they did for so long. This year, the tenth games, was supposedly the first year that they had kept the tributes for more than a night before the games. Did they not think that the tributes would die without food and water? And why are these Capitol parents, who actually seem relatively normal so close to the end of the war, bring their small children to see the tributes in a monkey cage? It feels like the people of the Capitol still had an understanding that this was wrong. It hadn’t been sensationalized yet. So why would they just be okay with watching these kids starve in a cage? Also, this is the first year that the tributes have sponsors. How could anyone be expected to fight to the death without food or water, as they had apparently been doing for ten years? The only water source in the arena was the puddle that came when it rained. What if it didn’t rain? They would all just die. Quickly. The only motivation for fighting for your life would have been to kill the others so that you could get food or water faster. Also, they didn’t check the tributes’ pockets before going in? I understand why Snow gets in trouble for cheating with the snakes, but honestly he should not have been able to get away with the food and rat poison.

Other than the whole situation with the games, I also didn’t really like how half of the tributes, and some of the mentors, died before the games even began. I think it was to give the impression that Snow and the Capitol children were all part of the Games themselves, similar to how Katniss feels she’s still in the Games in Mockingjay. I just don’t think it added a lot to the story, and I also think the bombing of the arena could have been fleshed out more. There were many points in the first third of the book that I felt were there purely for the development of Snow’s character, but didn’t make a whole lot of sense in the larger picture. I know some people thought him and Tigris being cousins was random. I felt that a little bit too, but there was definitely some sort of relationship hinted at between them when Katniss meets Tigris in Mockingjay. Katniss assumes Tigris was kicked out of the Games by Snow for not being pretty anymore. Tigris never really confirms or denies her theory, leaving a mystery that I think we got a little bit of clarity for in this book.

Aside from that stuff, I really loved this book, especially towards the end. The parallels and meaning that come up from the songs are quite beautiful. For example, Lucy Gray always says that it’s not over until the mockingjay sings. I very recently reread the original trilogy, and I remembered the chapters after Katniss assassinates Coin. Snow dies laughing, blood pouring out of his mouth, smothered by the people he worked so hard to control (which is actually quite disturbing to think about after reading this book about him). As Katniss is waiting to die in her old room at the training center, she starts, almost unconsciously, singing. It’s over. The mockingjay sings.

I love all of those types of parallels. Snow hates the mockingjays right away, and his first act of initiative as a peacekeeper is to have them killed. I know some people didn’t like the mentions of katniss root, mockingjays, and songs, but I loved them. I was excited to read about them because I love the original books, but I also think it added a lot. We see how Snow would associate each of these things in his mind, and how that impacts his actions in the original trilogy. Katniss is a symbol of chaos. The root amidst the nature that he loved and then learned to disdain. He felt safe and at peace the first time he encountered it, spending a pleasant Sunday outing with Lucy Gray and the Covey. The next time he hears about it, Lucy Gray lies to say she is finding some before she runs away, knowing that he has changed his mind. Running away and living in nature, like an animal, is not what he wants. He desires civilization, control. Katniss root, and therefore Katniss Everdeen herself, symbolizes the opposite: chaos. Katniss’ use of the mockingjay and the songs of the Covey immediately tip Snow off to the beginnings of rebellion. He know what they mean, and where they came from. It makes his actions in the original series seem so much more personal.

I think this is a common theory, but I’m pretty sure Maude Ivory is Katniss’ paternal grandmother. I had a little fangirl moment the first time Snow goes looking for Lucy Gray. First he stops at the bakery, and then he goes to the Seam. He meets both Peeta’s and Katniss’ ancestors in the same half hour, which is crazy to think about. Every time a place familiar to the original books was mentioned, I couldn’t help thinking about what happens in 64 years.

The Hanging Tree was crazy to read about. I love that it can apply to so many relationships and on so many levels throughout the book. On the one hand, it’s between Lucy Gray and Billy Taupe. It’s also about Lucy Gray and Snow himself, but Snow never really sees it that way. In the end, Lucy Gray realizes that both she and Snow are doomed to their fates. They will not live simple, good lives as good people. They can’t. A necklace of rope, side by side with me. When Snow hears her sing this for the last time, he thinks she’s pointing out his role in Sejanus’ death. In a way he’s right, but he completely misses the bigger picture. His way of thinking, both in general and specifically about Lucy Gray, is so flawed. It becomes increasingly clear the more he talks about owning her. I’ve heard that people don’t think Suzanne Collins properly addresses Snow’s flaws, but I think it is done very well. It’s never specifically stated that he is a bad person, but it would feel cheap if it was. In fact, he states over and over that he is an exceptional person. At the beginning of the book, it’s almost easy to believe that he is. We are the ones that get to watch his transition. Sometimes characters are really bad, but it works out in their favor anyway. 

All in all, I think this book is a great addition to the original series. It adds history and context, exploring the making of both a villain and a society. The Capitol, districts, and Games that we see in this book are so different from those of the original series, but Suzanne Collins beautifully closes this book so that we can see where the path is taking these characters and institutions, eventually leading them to the ones we know.

I’m pretty sure no one is reading this, but this is more for me and my memory than anything else. I have a lot of thoughts and no one to share them with. If anyone is reading this, thank you and I hope you’re staying safe in this pandemic.