#this started months and months ago as a secret santa gift for eli

[sundiscus]

wangxian dragon age au: ficlet

[part of a larger au i’ve mapped out + started drafting, but want to post as snippets for now! i’ve taken many liberties with the worldbuilding, and as such i think most can be inferred with context if you’re unfamiliar with dragon age.

part one now here

this snippet: the meet-ugly, ~1.7k]

✨✨✨

When Lan Wangji wakes up, he isn’t alone.

He doesn’t realize it right away. The first thing he notices is that, this time, there are no shackles. He shifts his hands the slightest bit, enough to confirm they are indeed free. The movement pulls at the little cuts on his fingers and forearms from where the shackles shattered apart, already scabbing over—so he has been unconscious long enough for the magebane to burn out of his system, which he confirms, finding his meridians free and clear. He’s lying on his back, something that feels slightly too soft to be a stone floor under him and something that feels slightly too rough to be a blanket draped over him. An odd green light pulses against his eyelids and the only sound is a muted, continuous hiss, like a distant waterfall. Wherever he is, it isn’t the cell from earlier.

It doesn’t matter. He won’t be here long.

He takes one more slow breath, listening closely. There. To his left, a few paces away, he hears a tiny, cut-off inhale. Now he knows where to aim. His eyes fly open as he launches himself upright, summoning his sword into his raised hand, and—

It’s like expecting the ocean and finding only a puddle. His sword flickers into existence for the barest moment, its glow illuminating a circle of stone walls, a pallet beneath him, and then Lan Wangji’s lungs stutter, pressure squeezing his temples, as if all air has been sucked out of the room. Bichen dissipates and Lan Wangji is left gasping, one hand still raised uselessly in the air.

From the shadows, someone says: “Ah, that’s not going to work.”

Lan Wangji is already looking to the side. He sees only a figure at first, because when his sword disappeared so had the strange, omnipresent green glow. The glow returns now, slowly illuminating a young man curled against the opposite wall, his hair a dark, tangled wave over his shoulders, wrists chained together with thick iron manacles. For a moment his eyes, staring right back at Lan Wangji, are the brightest thing in the room.

“What do you mean?” Lan Wangji demands, finding his voice. “Is there a suppression array?” It must be powerful to choke off his magic so finitely. If he can see it, though, he can figure out how to undo it.

The man wrinkles his nose. “Not exactly. But—ah, ah,” he says as Lan Wangji starts to stand, “don’t move too fast, the blowback from that is going to be pretty harsh.”

Lan Wangji understands almost instantly as a wave of vertigo hits him. His knees buckle before he’s halfway to his feet and he collapses back on the pallet, bracing his weight on his elbow to keep from falling entirely. When his ears stop ringing he can hear his own ragged breathing.

Enough, he thinks, and forces himself to even his breaths. To shift focus. Clearly whatever precautions Wen Chao and his soldiers have taken to secure this room go beyond magebane and a simple suppression array. He won’t be able to escape by sheer force like last time, but this will still be no more than a brief detour on his journey. He will make sure of it.

Yesterday—was it yesterday, now? The chamber has no windows, just the eerie green glow emanating from the walls—Lan Wangji had been traveling with a retinue of junior enchanters to retrieve research texts from the Circle in Hedong, where scholars claimed to have promising studies related to fade rifts. They were nearly there when a raven alighted on Lan Wangji’s shoulder, bearing the message: Siege on Gusu Circle. Reconvene to the north. He’d sent the junior enchanters ahead and turned back before the raven even took flight.

(The note had not mentioned his brother, so his brother must be alive. Rumors were already spreading outward from Gusu as he rode, saying Wen Xu had an archdemon, Wen Xu burned the Gusu library to the ground. They did not say Wen Xu killed Zewu-jun, Wen Xu killed a mage with a glowing hand. So his brother must have escaped. Knowing this did not stop Lan Wangji’s heart from racing as he spurred his horse faster, past refugee settlements and Templar camps, toward the distant gash in the sky.)

And then: a poisoned arrow biting into his arm, his horse crumpling on a hardpacked road outside Lingchuan. The Wen soldiers, ready for him. (Not ready enough, when at least six of their bodies fell before Lan Wangji did.) One day in the first cell, his failed escape attempt.

And now: magicless, trapped in a strange room with a strange, sharp-eyed prisoner watching him struggle to sit upright, the slow crawl of time a physical weight on Lan Wangji’s shoulders.

“Honestly, just ride it out,” the prisoner is saying. He has his chained hands up and open, like he’s trying to calm a spooked animal. “You’ll feel better in about an hour. Maybe less, if you’ve had a good meal recently.”

Lan Wangji’s head spins sickeningly. He ignores it, pushing himself up until he can prop himself against the wall, putting himself eye-level with the prisoner, at least.

“Or sit up anyway, I suppose,” the prisoner says. His voice has a ragged edge, as if it’s scraping its way out of his throat. “Sorry, I’d offer you some water, but I drank it all before I knew I’d have company. What are you doing here, anyway?”

If First Enchanter Lan wants his nephew back, he’ll have to lend us a few books, Wen Chao had mocked from outside the first cell. And if he wants you back with all your limbs attached, he’ll have to throw in trading deeds with the eastern lyrium mines for good measure. Do you think he can deliver that before you die here?

Wen Chao wanted demonic texts, Lan Wangji had guessed, the ones hidden deep within the library. No doubt for some dangerous, power-hungry scheme, and no doubt connected to the rifts. From there, it wasn’t hard to piece together that the attack on the Circle was meant to discover which texts were critical enough to be rescued and transported away, and likely steal them in transit. There are protocols for such events, Lan Wangji knows, and his presence here means the raid was unsuccessful, and he will be used as leverage for a second attempt.

If Wen Chao meant to scare Lan Wangji with his demands, he had only succeeded in doing the opposite. Because if all they want from Lan Wangji’s family are books and deeds, it means they don’t know about his brother yet.

Lan Wangji doesn’t share any of this. “Political prisoner,” is all he says.

“Ahh.” The man nods. “I figured, what with the…” He gestures at his own forehead, chains clinking as he does. “You’re obviously a Lan. Someone will pay well to have you back home.”

“They should not have to pay at all,” Lan Wangji bites out. Something about the prisoner’s casual attitude grates at him. The world outside is quite literally falling apart at the seams, and Lan Wangji doesn’t have time to be used as bait in Wen Chao’s small-minded games.

The prisoner shrugs. “Yeah, but there’s not much choice at the moment, is there? For now you’re stuck here with me. I’m—my name is Wei Ying, by the way. What should I call you, while we wait?”

“Do the Wen soldiers enter this cell often?” Lan Wangji says instead of answering. “Is there a chance of overpowering them?”

A grimace. “Often enough. And no, I’ve tried. They’re stupid, but they’re prepared.”

Lan Wangji casts another glance over the man—Wei Ying—and carefully keeps any skepticism out of his expression. Then he looks around properly for the first time. Wei Ying is right—there’s no visible array on the floor, no glyphs on the circular stone walls. The green glow fades as it climbs the wall, leaving the ceiling cloaked in shadow and dizzying to look at, like an endless tunnel. Disturbingly, there isn’t a visible door, either. There isn’t much of anything but the one straw pallet, a lidded pot against the wall, an empty bowl next to Wei Ying, bone-dry, and Wei Ying himself.

“A Lan,” Wei Ying says when Lan Wangji is silent for long enough, pitched low, almost like he’s talking to himself. “I’m surprised Wen Chao would be so bold. He has to know that won’t go over well in the long run, I wonder if his father has any idea? No, he would’ve sent Wen Xu. Maybe Wen Chao thinks that by the time someone comes for you, he’ll have—” Wei Ying cuts himself off. Blinks. “You are real, aren’t you?”

Lan Wangji narrows his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, you’re not…” Wei Ying waves a hand at the room around them. “But, ah, why would I dream up a whole Knight-Enchanter? A Lan at that? You felt real enough, when I dragged you onto the pallet, but it’s still hard to tell.” Lan Wangji must have some reaction to that—to knowing this stranger’s hands have been on him, when he was unconscious—because Wei Ying adds, defensive: “What was I supposed to do? They left you on the floor.”

Lan Wangji doesn’t have an answer to that.

Wei Ying tips his head back against the wall. “Well. Your Circle, they have your phylactery, right? They’ll find you. Pay the ransom, or lay siege to Wen Chao’s little fortress here. That would be nice.” He casts his gaze over Lan Wangji again. “Looks like our captors were gentle enough in the meanwhile.”

There’s dried blood tugging at the hair of Lan Wangji’s temple, and he still has the nauseating sense that if he moves too fast he might collapse again. Gentle isn’t how Lan Wangji would describe his treatment so far. But it is also far below the threshold of what he can withstand, so it doesn’t seem like a point worth arguing. “And you?” he hears himself say.

“Uh.” Wei Ying shifts and holds up his shackled hands. “Less gentle, I suppose.”

“I meant—who will be paying your ransom.”

Wei Ying drops his hands into his lap. “Oh. No one.”

“Then,” Lan Wangji says, “why are you here?”

For the first time, Wei Ying flashes a smile. A hooked dagger in the dim light.

“I have something they want.”

[ryqoshay]

How to Handle a Nico: Santa Faux Pas

Primary Pairing: NicoMaki Words: ~1.6k Rating: G forward with a T finish Time Frame: Late in Maki’s college career and early in Nico’s idol producer career. The couple has recently moved into an apartment together. Story Arc: Stand Alone

Author’s Note: I wanted to post this scene earlier in the month to match how it takes place before Christmas, but alas, fate had other plans. Que zura zura.

That said, this is the second scene I am posting sans links, in hopes that HtHaN will start showing up in Tumblr’s searches. A followup post will provide links to the rest of the scenes for those who wish to read other chapters.

Oh no…

Nico’s eyes widened as the lyrics sprayed out of the earbud.

How could she have been so careless? She had become so accustomed to sharing music with Maki over all these years that she hadn’t thought twice about handing over the earbud.

Just a moment ago, Nico had settled down next to her studying girlfriend. She had opened her laptop to browse her favorite idol sites but paused to set up her mp3 player. It came as no surprise that Maki asked about her current playlist and Nico had replied that it was one filled with Christmas song parodies.

After so many years of hanging out with Maki in December, Nico was all too familiar with the redhead’s obsession. And while she had eventually come to see it as endearing, there was still only so much holiday music she could stand. Thus, over the last few years, Nico had compiled a fairly sizable list of parodies that helped her keep her sanity.

Maki had rolled her eyes at the explanation but held out her hand anyway. And on reflex, Nico had obliged. She had then waited for her girlfriend to position the earbud properly before hitting play. How could she have not foreseen the tragedy that was to unfold not even half a dozen songs later?

Nico winced as the lines were repeated. What should she do? Hitting the pause button might draw attention, and ripping the earbud from Maki’s ear was even more obvious. But what else could…

Did Maki just laugh?

Hesitantly, the idol producer glanced over at med student. Sure enough, there was an amused smile on the other girl’s lips.

“Maki-chan?” Nico asked before thinking better of it.

“Mmm?” Maki looked up from her textbook.

Stupid! Stupid! You just called attention to yourself! Now you have to say something! Something that doesn’t give away… that…

“Oh, uhm, nothing…” Nico fumbled.

Maki raised an eyebrow.

“I just heard you laugh and…” And now she’s going to think about why… Welp, that’s it. Nozomi and Eli are going to kill me. That is, unless Maki-chan’s parents don’t get to me first…

“Well yeah…” Maki chuckled again. “That was an amusing song that just played.”

Did Maki-chan miss it? No, that’s impossible. The chorus repeats it too many times.

“It was a playful jab at people who still believe in Santa.” Maki shrugged. “Nothing wrong with…” Her eyes widened as she realized something. “Oops…” She managed to get out before laughing.

What.

“But… you… I thought…” The pieces scattered in Nico’s mind.

“Still believe in Santa?” Maki smirked unexpectedly. “No, no.” She shook head. “Not for years, Nico-chan.”

“But… when?”

“Second year in high school.”

“What?!” Nico practically shouted, almost bolting to her feet. Startled by her own outburst, she quickly sat back down and mimed some calming gestures while taking a deep breath. “But all this time I thought…”

“I know.” Maki nodded. “In my defense, it was Nozomi’s idea not to tell you.”

“Figures…”

“And in her defense, I was more than happy to go along with it.”

Nico scowled at her girlfriend.

“Consider it revenge for when you tried to tease me for still believing in high school.”

“That was one time!” The raven-haired girl protested, holding up her index figure to emphasize the number. “And I…” she paused briefly to consider how to put her thoughts into words “didn’t later because I guess I got used to it after that; even started to think it was cute.” If a bit exasperating at times… She left that last part silent.

“You thought a college student believing in Santa was cute?” The redhead snorted a bit.

Well, that didn’t have the effect she had desired. More often than not, Maki would blush and be thrown off her game for a moment when Nico called her cute. The younger girl usually only avoided getting flustered when she was confident that she had the upper hand. Thus, a different approach was warranted.

“How?” Nico finally asked.

“Hm?”

“How did you find out?”

“Well…” Maki’s eyes turned up as she recalled. After a moment she took a breath and began. “It kind of started with you, Nico-chan.”

“Nico?” The older girl pointed to herself. “You’re saying it was my fault?”

“No.” The younger girl shook her head. “Well, actually…” she smirked again “maybe it kind of was?”

“...” Nico wrinkled her nose.

“Kind of.” Maki repeated. “As you’re well aware, your siblings had some difficulties dealing with you going off to college.”

“Yeah... but what…”

“So, when I wrote my letter to Santa that year, I asked him for something a little different. I wanted him to give my present to them instead.”

“Wait…” A few pieces fell into place.

“I gave my letter to Papa to mail out, so to speak, and when he read it, he and Mama decided it was finally time to tell me the truth.” Maki chuckled at the memories. “I will admit I was shocked at first, but it didn’t take me long to logic it out. I was a bit embarrassed, but Mama helped me with that.

“And then Papa suggested that we could still fulfill my request, just not in the way I had originally thought. I’m not entirely sure what all was worked out between our parents, but I was granted a budget and was able to pick out gifts for Cocoro, Cocoa and Cotarou.”

“So… that was you…?”

“Yeah…”

“All those years I…” The puzzle now complete, Nico struggled to process the picture it portrayed “I thought Mama had decided to splurge a bit since she wasn’t spending as much on me anymore.”

“Nico-chan…” The redhead donned a concerned expression. “Are you… crying?”

“Huh?” The raven-haired girl raised a hand to her face. Sure enough, her fingers touched gathering liquid that was threatening to spill down her cheeks. “I just…” She swallowed past a growing lump in her throat. “Do you have any idea what that meant to us?”

Maki nodded. “Cocoro was let in on the secret early, as it was her first and last year. She thanked me a lot. As did both Cocoa and Cotarou when they found out later.”

“Maki…” Nico sniffled “-chan…”

The younger offered a sympathetic smile before sliding out from under the table and crawling over to her girlfriend. The older girl immediately latched into the offered hug but continued to resist letting the dam break completely. She knew she would give in eventually, but for now, there was still just enough annoyance left to maintain a level of dissonance in her emotions.

Gently, Maki patted Nico’s back a few times before beginning to run her fingers through dark strands of hair.

“You know I’m not gonna forgive you…” Nico eventually murmured into Maki’s shoulder.

“Huh?”

“As amazing and wonderful and generous all those gifts were, you could have at least told me.”

“Sorry…” Maki started to pull the scrunchies from Nico’s hair to grant her better access.

“But…” Nico sighed. “I suppose you got me pretty good this time.”

Maki laughed lightly.

“I mean I remember still seeing packages labelled to you from Santa.”

“That was just Papa trying to be funny.” Maki explained. “He wasn’t in on keeping it a secret from you; he didn’t even know that you didn’t know.”

“I see… Wait, your father tries to be funny?”

“Yeah.”

“Dr. Stoic-ino?”

“Every once in a while.” Maki shrugged the shoulder opposite Nico. “Doesn’t always work, though. But, you know, I could have sworn he’s tried a few shots at humor when you’ve been with us.”

“Maybe…” Nico sighed again. “In any case Maki-chan owes Nico now.”

“What was that?”

“After making Nico believe she still believed in Santa all these years.” Nico explained. “That’s a lot of teasing to make up for.”

“This from the girl who constantly teases me?”

Nico pursed her lips. She couldn’t deny that point. So, once again, a change in tactics was in order. “Well after all the presents Maki-chan gave Nico’s siblings, she should give something to Nico as well.”

“I don’t get it.”

Nico pushed away from the hug to look her girlfriend in the eye. “Nico will forgive Maki-chan if she gives her a present.” She said coyly, reaching over to play with Maki’s collar.

“I’m not letting you open your present early.”

Geez, do I really need to spell it out? Maki-chan is being more dense than usual right now…

Nico turned her wrist such that her fingers grazed across a particularly sensitive part of Maki’s neck, causing the redhead’s breath to hitch. The change in Maki’s eyes was immediate and Nico knew she finally understood.

“Nico-chan is always fond of offering herself as a gift…” Maki breathed, shifting herself so she could lean towards Nico, pausing when their noses were barely a centimeter apart.

“And Maki-chan always accepts.” Often in lieu of my other presents… Nico added silently.

“Mmm…” Maki replied before pressing their lips together.

Nico quickly slid her arms around her girlfriend’s neck to pull herself deeper into the kiss. The earlier turbulence already a fading memory, Nico began to focus solely on the positives of the situation.

“But,” Nico said, pulling away for air “Maki-chan is a gift to Nico as well.”

Amid the rapidly gathering haze of lust, Nico detected a flash of Maki’s acknowledging smile. She returned a quick smile of her own, accompanied by a flirting wink, before allowing Maki to pull her back into another kiss. As both young women began to unwrap their favorite presents of the holiday season, Nico quietly thanked the deities for allowing her such happiness before losing herself completely in her love for Maki.

Author’s Notes Continued in followup post.