#whew had to go slow mo on this one | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wild-karrde · 9 months ago

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The way I know I'm gonna be devastated when I get caught up on this fic. I think that's part of why I've been taking it slow. We shall see. In the mean time, I AM INVESTED. Obsessed? Maybe.

OK IMMEDIATE PANIC WITH THESE FIRST FEW CHAPTERS. I know Daria drives Kazi bonkers, but she's still her sister, and this is STILL GONNA HURT LIKE A MO FO. And oh my GODDDDD the way she had to treat her with the medicine, the conflict she had to feel in that moment. My heart hurts for her SO MUCH. Knowing more about Daria's illness makes it much more real, and wow the way in which she's deteriorating is going to be EXCEPTIONALLY painful. And then having a timeline put on it? Like of course she knew Daria's time had suddenly become limited, but getting an actual finite amount of time? There's always something about that that is just devastating to me (I am one of those humans that doesn't wanna know when it's coming).

I see so much of myself in Kazi. The fact that she hadn't really spoken to her family, but when push comes to shove, she drops everything and gets to them when they need her? That's such a big sister sort of thing, and it's hitting so close to home for me in a really gut-punching way. I think you've poured so many special little things into her character that it's not hard to find at least one piece of her that's relatable. She's such a beautifully complex character (I know I say this practically every comment, but I shall continue to shout about it, so that's that).

And then the fact that stress may have exacerbated things? The stress of their argument? KAZI I WANNA HUG YOU BECAUSE I KNOW YOU'RE FEELING THAT GUILT.

Her head felt too heavy. Too full. Like it was stuffed with wet sheep wool and she couldn’t stop it from expanding and thickening.

Again, your imagery? Fucking fantastic.

AHHHHHH NEYTI'S USING THE PAINTS! And Kazi wants to tell Cody because she knows it'll make him happy MY HEART YESSSSSSS.

OMG AND THEN SHE TRIES TO STAB FOX WITH THE PAINT BRUSH. MY GIRL. I LOVE HER.

AHHHHHHHHHHH ADDITIONAL SCREAMING HE'S TRYING TO GIVE HER SHAVED ICE. THEY ARE TRYING SO HARD. And Fox trying to tease Kazi about Neyti and Daria, but he has NO CLUE WHAT'S GOING ON IN THE BACKGROUND. AND KAZI IS SO STUBBORN. (I truly adore the dynamic and how it's developing, can you tell?)

It didn’t matter, really. Once Neyti was adopted and Daria passed away, there would be nothing left to concern her. And no one to know her.

Kazi nooooo don't doom yourself to that loneliness my love.

And the cleaning because everything else feels out of control, but that's one thing she can do, one thing she can have control of. And the checklist to keep her mind busy. GAAAH.

AND THE FISHING MEMORY. JEEZUS CHRIST. THE FIRST TIME YOU WATCH SOMEONE POP ONE IN THE HEAD LIKE THAT?? YEAH. TRAUMATIZING. (sorry I just screamed maniacally because the relatability factor just went through the roof lol. DAMN YOU FISH TRAUMA).

WHEW and then the comparison between her father's death and how Daria is declining? BIG OUCH. The emotional punches just keep on coming this chapter.

And now the big fight. Because Kazi needs to let off steam, and Wolffe presents that opportunity. BUT ALSO I WANNA KNOW WHAT HIS DEAL IS I AM HYPED.

And OOOOF WOLFFE WITH THE MISINFORMED LOW BLOW. AND HERE COMES KAZI WITH THE HAYMAKER.

“I thought you were running rescue missions, Commander.” She gestured to the empty entryway. “Where are your rescued soldiers?” The taunt was cruel and horrible and she would regret it the moment the conversation ended, but in the moment, she wanted him to hurt. The way she was hurting beneath his criticism of her character.

WE'RE OFF AND RUNNING NOW, FOLKS. WE'RE JUST SWINGING FOR THE FENCES.

“You wouldn’t understand.” He cocked his head, his sneer belittling. “Your home life is fucked up. You have a kid who doesn’t trust you. Your relationship with your sister is estranged. You’re a shitty sister and even shittier caretaker. And you wouldn’t know the first thing about familial duty.”

WOOF.

“You’re a clone. What do you know about familial duty?”

“You’re a paranoid bastard.” A tear eased down her cheek and she furiously wiped it away. “You’re so fucking paranoid because you turned on your own people. Your actions allowed the Empire to rise and the Republic to crumble. And now you expect any and everyone to turn on you because you were the traitor first.”

Man ALIVE THEY ARE GOING FOR THE THROAT AND IT HURTS BUT I AM CHEERING FOR THE "COMING AROUND TO ONE ANOTHER WHEN WE FIGURE OUT WE HAVE SEVERELY MISJUDGED ONE ANOTHER" PERIOD. But also JEEZUS WHAT A WAY TO CLOSE THIS ONE OUT.

I Yearn, and so I Fear - Chapter V

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

General Summary. Nearly a year since the Galactic Empire’s rise to power, Kazi Ennari is trying to survive. But her routine is interrupted—and life upended—when she’s forced to cohabitate with former Imperial soldiers. Clone soldiers.

Pairing. Commander Wolffe x female!OC

General Warnings. Canon-typical violence and assault, familial struggles, terminal disease, bigotry, explicit sexual content, death. This story deals with heavy content. If you’re easily triggered, please do not read. For a more comprehensive list of tags, click here.

Fic Rating. E (explicit)/18+/Minors DNI.

Chapter Word Count. 4.6K

Beta. @starstofillmydream

3 Helona

“These symptoms are extreme for this stage of her illness,” Healer Natasha said.

Kazi didn’t respond as she studied her sister.

Asleep, Daria looked fragile. Easily breakable. Like the glass dolls common in Reformist households on Ceaia. The dolls with unblinking eyes, perfectly plain skin, and rosy lips.

Sweat glistened on Daria’s forehead. Her breathing was shallow yet slowing, courtesy of the anesthetic med-spike Kazi stabbed her with an hour ago.

The fear in her sister’s eyes—the sheer terror—when Kazi pinned her to the ground was imprinted in her mind.

It happened so fast.

Kazi had only just returned from work. Exhausted, she visited Neyti’s empty room to place a new stuffed animal—a space whale—on the pillows. On her way back, she caught sight of Daria in her room, staring at a wall, rocking slightly.

“Daria?” Kazi asked hesitantly.

Daria flinched. “Where are we?” she whispered. “Why am I here?”

The fear in her sister’s voice moored Kazi to the floor. She was so tired—mentally and physically worn to the bones—that she could only stare at her sister. Confused. Uncomprehending. She took one step forward but Daria collapsed to the floor. Her hands flattened against her ears. Her body curved into a ball. She panted for air.

It was the sound of her panicked breaths that snapped Kazi into action. She snatched the med-spike from the hallway closet. The medicine had sat there, unused, for months.

She had never expected to use it.

And she hadn’t expected Daria to start crying, begging, her not to hurt her.

Scared and unnerved, Kazi stabbed Daria with the med-spike. Her sister fell limp beneath her.

The only good thing about the situation: Neyti was downstairs sketching, and Commander Fox and trooper Nova were gone, so no one witnessed the ordeal.

“I thought you said her medicine was supposed to prevent these symptoms.” Kazi faced Healer Natasha, folding her arms across her chest.

After endless appointments with Ceaian healers unwilling to treat Daria, Kazi was relieved to meet Healer Natasha.

A decade older, Healer Natasha was quick to diagnose Daria, create a treatment plan, and enforce necessary care all within two weeks. The healer was dedicated to Daria’s treatment. Determined to ease her suffering and preserve the stability of her mind for as long as possible. Her kindly personality and patient attentiveness made her respectable and trustworthy.

However, months ago, Healer Natasha claimed a morning and nightly potion would curb Daria’s symptoms. That severe episodes of forgetfulness and panic were improbable the first fifteen months of the disease’s three-year timeframe.

The disease wasn’t supposed to progress for another eight months.

“The potions should be working.” Healer Natasha studied Daria’s pulse and scribbled a note onto her datapad. “Their efficacy is tested and proven. There must be something interfering…”

Kazi swallowed a bite of fear. “How much time do you think she has?”

“Possibly a year.” Kazi blanched and Healer Natasha offered her a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry. I can ease the symptoms as much as possible until the next stage.”

“The next stage is—”

“Loss of memory. I advise moving her to the medical center for 24-hour care.”

“You said Stage Two won’t happen until Telona of next year. At the earliest.” Her heart was beating far too fast, and she swallowed, forcing her breaths to calm. “You said she had at least two years to live from Telona. She’s only been sick for seven months.”

“Daria’s disease is an anomaly, and one we have little information to study,” the healer said gently. “The disease has few similarities across patients and we still don’t know the cause or if it’s curable. I am operating based on what I have researched, but much is left to the unknown.”

Kazi knew all of this—they had talked about it before. But it didn’t make acceptance easier.

Seven months ago, she was working in Ceaia’s capital when she received a comm message from home. Nearly eight years had passed without word from her mother, and she had rarely spoken to Daria in that time. So the comm message shocked her. She didn’t know what to expect.

That night, she quit her job, packed her belongings, and bought a one-way ticket back home.

The local healer didn’t know how to treat Daria and the few droids available were just as useless. Kazi threw herself into researching Daria’s symptoms, cross-referencing potential illnesses, contacting various healers across the planet and then expanding her search to neighboring systems. She argued her way into consultations with the most renowned healers.

All of those hours researching, all of those days she spent trying to find a solution, were ultimately futile. The last healer they saw on Ceaia claimed the disease was a progressive destruction of memory and mental functions. There was no cure.

In private, the healer had advised Kazi to stop wasting her time and monetary resources on her sister. To instead enroll Daria in a 24-hour hospice center. The pity on his face at her immediate refusal still rankled her.

Through it all—the dozens of consultations and various healers—Daria became more withdrawn. Reclusive and quiet. Kazi assumed it was a combination of shock and grief.

Their mother was no help. Daria was her pride, and her hope for the future, and Daria’s inability to marry into society left her depressed.

Her hopelessness didn’t matter much since she passed away a few months later. From heart failure. It wasn’t a shock considering she was in her early seventies. She didn’t have Kazi and Daria until her early forties, as Traditionalist and Reformist culture encouraged, and the combined stress of Kazi leaving home at eighteen and the onslaught of Daria’s disease was too much for her to handle.

Kazi thought their mother’s death would upset Daria. To her surprise, her sister became less morose and reclusive.

“I don’t have much time,” Daria said one day, her smile forcibly brave, “and I won’t waste it moping.”

Healer Natasha placed a hand on Kazi’s shoulder, her fingers dark brown and scarred. “You should prepare yourself for the possibility that Daria’s illness is progressing at a faster rate.”

“I understand.” Kazi observed Daria’s pallid features. “Thank you for coming by tonight. I know it’s not in your contract—”

“Daria is my only patient. I’m here for her.” Kazi nodded her gratitude while the healer packed her bag. Once her instruments were sequestered away, Healer Natasha straightened, a frown marring her features. “A question, Ms. Lucien: has Daria encountered anything at home that could have increased her stress levels in the past months?”

The last three months zipped through Kazi’s memories, like a holofilm fast-forwarded. The clones’ arrival was the sole anomaly. But had built a rapport with Commanders Cody and Fox, and on some occasions, she even cooked with the former.

An indicator of high stress probably emerged from—

“We’ve had a few disagreements about the future,” Kazi admitted.

“The future?” Healer Natasha hefted her bag. “Her future?”

“No.” Kazi scrunched her nose. “Mine.”

Healer Natasha nodded in understanding, approaching the bedroom door. “It would be best to avoid stressful conversations as they can exacerbate her symptoms, especially conversations about the future. Patients suffering from terminal disease struggle with both the unknown and the desire for a future. Talks about what you will be doing in a year or two can increase distress.”

Late evening sunshine bespeckled the surrounding jungle when Healer Natasha left. Kazi locked the front door and leaned against the wall, pressing her palms to her eyes.

Her head felt too heavy. Too full. Like it was stuffed with wet sheep wool and she couldn’t stop it from expanding and thickening.

Deciding fresh air and the setting sun might ease her headache, Kazi wandered to the sunroom. She expected to find Neyti absorbed in a sketch. Instead, she stumbled on a puzzling sight.

Outside, Neyti sat among the ferns, a canvas on her lap and a paintbrush in her hand. For a brief moment, Kazi was distracted by the canvas and paints. The ones Commander Cody had gifted Neyti a few days ago. She hadn’t seen Neyti use them before and the sight eased some of her tension. She made a mental note to tell the commander when he returned to the house from his mission. He would appreciate it.

And then she took in the entire situation, and former elation gave way to exasperation.

Rather than painting, Neyti was scowling, her knuckles white against a paintbrush. Scowling at Commander Fox and trooper Nova.

The clones must have returned from the Marketplace while Kazi was speaking to Healer Natasha. Each carried a bag of groceries, but it was Commander Fox who also held a cup in his hand. He stood a few meters from Neyti and was gesturing to the cup. Behind him, Nova grimaced.

Commander Fox took a step closer. He started to kneel.

Eyes narrowed, Neyti brandished her paintbrush and stabbed it in his direction.

“Oh my fucking gods,” Kazi muttered under her breath.

The commander lifted a hand in surrender, and he slowly lowered the cup to the ground. Neyti swiped at him. Again. Kazi hurried outside.

“Neyti.” The girl blinked at her. Kazi gave her a long look. “We don’t hit people with paintbrushes.” She turned on the commander. “And if she doesn’t want whatever you have, don’t pressure her to accept it.”

Commander Fox shrugged, his casual demeanor forcibly unruffled. “I was going to leave it there and walk away.”

Kazi turned her attention back to Neyti, lifting an eyebrow. Neyti glowered at Commander Fox and then lowered her brush. A frustrated huff spoke her true feelings.

Sharing a look with Commander Fox—the clone’s mouth pressed in a hard line—Kazi accepted the cup he placed in her hands. Lemony shaved ice filled it to the brim, and she felt herself start to smile as she knelt on the ground. Neyti eyed the cup suspiciously.

“This is a treat,” Kazi explained, spooning a lump of ice.

“I told her that,” the commander said. A distinct line wrinkled between his eyes. “I thought younglings liked dessert.”

“They do.” Nova’s voice was quiet, softer than Commander Fox’s. His hair was longer than any of the three commanders and a yellow tattoo of a rising sun lightened his left cheek. “Guess the problem is you.”

Commander Fox rolled his eyes.

Ignoring them, Kazi offered the spoonful of ice to Neyti. The girl hesitated.

“It’s really good, I promise,” she encouraged.

When Neyti continued to eye the cup, Kazi shrugged, taking a bite for herself. Commander Fox had opted for a simple flavor: lemon with a hint of mint. It wasn’t half bad, though she preferred lemon and lavender.

“You know,” she said, meeting Neyti’s intrigued gaze, “shaved ice is popular on Ceaia.”

The pointed comment was a theory she had developed the last few weeks, and Neyti’s reaction—her lips parting and former suspicion melting into interest—partially confirmed it.

Neyti set aside her canvas and paintbrush, and Kazi handed her the cup. Carefully, Neyti spooned a small mouthful of the ice and took a tentative bite.

Her eyes widened. Fascination, and subtle delight, lit her face. She took another, larger bite.

A quiet, hoarse chuckle emanated from the clone commander, and Neyti stiffened. A disparaging glare darkened her face. To Kazi’s slight amusement, Commander Fox winked. An angry flush darkened Neyti’s face. The little girl shoved herself to her feet, huffed her annoyance in Commander Fox’s direction, and stomped toward the closest tree, collapsing among its knotted roots.

“Good going,” Nova said. Shoving the commander in the shoulder, he grabbed both bags of groceries and strode into the house.

Commander Fox slid his hands into his trousers’ pockets, watching Neyti. “You have your hands full. With that one and your sister.”

The amusement in his tone—the suggestion behind his comment—made Kazi stiffen. He had no right to judge Neyti and her sister. He had no right to make them his entertainment.

“Don’t talk about Neyti that way,” she said coldly. “And don’t talk about my sister, either.”

The commander blinked his bemusement. “I wasn’t—”

“I have work to do.” Stepping away, she settled her attention on Neyti. “You should go inside. I think it’s best if you don’t bother her.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw but Commander Fox inclined his head, retreating into the house.

The moment the back door snapped shut, Kazi grimaced. Maybe she was too quick to judge him. Maybe she shouldn’t have snapped at him. And she probably should have thanked him for thinking of Neyti. For buying her a treat.

But Kazi couldn’t muster the energy to care. To feel ashamed for her behavior.

Stress had gnawed through her muscles and was now working on her bones, dull teeth steadily eating her away.

She wondered how long she would last.

It didn’t matter, really. Once Neyti was adopted and Daria passed away, there would be nothing left to concern her. And no one to know her.

The bluish glow of Eluca’s three moons washed across the first level while Kazi mopped the hardwood floors. Unable to sleep, she thought the repetitive motions would soothe the amalgamated mess of conflicting thoughts pounding inside her head. So far, it hadn’t worked.

She needed to access the bank codes for Bash. And yet she still didn’t know how to.

She needed to research Daria’s disease and see if there was an explanation for her rapid progression. And yet she knew it was ultimately futile.

She needed to reconvene with the adoption center and confirm Neyti’s application. And yet she had to wait for Neyti’s testing.

She needed to call a mechanic and get the kitchen fixed—the squeaky drawers, broken cabinets, weak faucet grew more problematic by the day. And yet she couldn’t muster the fucking energy to make one comm call.

The house was dirty. She hadn’t properly cleaned the kitchen, living room, and sunroom in a month, and her bedsheets were unwashed for more than three weeks, and she hadn’t dusted in a long time, and there were crumbs—fucking crumbs—on the kitchen counters because the adults in this house were too lazy to properly clean the fucking counters after a meal.

Living room floors scrubbed and drying, Kazi made her way to the kitchen. A glance at the chrono heightened her fatigue.

She closed her eyes, telling herself not to cry. She wanted to sleep, but she couldn’t. And she despised lack of sleep. Her head felt too heavy to think and her muscles too slow to respond. She would most likely opt out of a swim and then she would miss an important workout and—

Kazi opened an upper cabinet and retrieved the sole bottle of alcohol in the house. A bottle of aged red wine.

Daria couldn’t drink because of her medicine, and Kazi disliked the lack of control she experienced when she did drink, so alcohol was in short commodity. The bottle of wine she was uncorking was a gift from the neighbor a kilometer away. An older man she hadn’t spoken to since, though she did wave whenever she saw him drive by.

A short pop and the cork fell away. A regular glass filled to the brim. A dark red unsavory.

At the first mouthful, Kazi nearly spit it out. Gods, she hated wine. Too sweet. Too thick. Too many uncomfortable memories.

Another mouthful and she closed her eyes. The image of Daria, pale and sweaty, begging not to be hurt, seared her mind. Her eyes flew open. She released a shaky breath.

The urge to run spasmed down her spine. The urge to leave the house, leave her sister and Neyti, and just run.

Run far away. Away from the responsibility, away from Daria’s suffering.

Kazi stared at the dark wine, its color too reminiscent of blood. Her hand started to shake and she set the glass aside. It was pathetic, but the bloody glass reminded her of her first, and only, time fishing with her father.

She was five, eager to prove herself a reliable sailing companion.

They sailed to one of the islands, her father cast a line, and they sat for an hour. Waiting. It was a rare day. The sun peeked through Ceaia’s usually gray clouds, its rays a gregarious warmth.

Little Kazi had high expectations. For both herself and the experience.

The line snagged, and she and her father shared an excited grin, reeling in the first catch of the day: a fish longer than her arm and quite fat. She watched her father kneel on the wooden boards. The fish squirmed and struggled. Kazi no longer felt excited.

Her father raised a long spike. She kept watching the fish try to escape. To return home and live. Her father stabbed the fish in its head.

The sight haunted her nightmares for an entire year.

The fish wriggling. Blood oozing from its scales. The sound of its tail smacking the deck.

It took a long time for the fish to quiet and then still.

Little Kazi sobbed. She sobbed over the pain and suffering of a fucking fish.

Startled by her reaction, her father abandoned the rest of the trip and they returned home. And so began a life avoiding the signs of pain and suffering.

More difficult to avoid than Kazi had expected considering her mother owned the local apothecary and served as a healer on most days. She had forced Kazi and Daria to accompany her during busy hours. Daria helped. Eager to ease patients’ suffering. Eager to do good. Kazi stood in the corner, hands pressed to her ears, trembling as she listened to grunts of pain. Screams.

She took to running away. To avoid it all.

The day her father died, she was ten, and she saw him in the med-center bed. His body was broken; his face was swollen. He had reached for her. His pain was too similar to Daria’s.

Except his death was different.

His sudden absence left her shocked and grieving—there was no time to prepare. She had eaten breakfast with him that morning, and he was gone by dinner.

Daria’s illness prolonged her pain and suffering.

There would come a time when her little sister no longer remembered her. A time when Daria wouldn’t even know her own name.

And Kazi wasn’t prepared for it. No matter the façade she wore, she wasn’t prepared.

Swallowing another mouthful of the sweet wine, Kazi drained two-thirds of the glass. She was about to force herself to finish it when the front door banged open.

The glass fell. Its shatter was as loud as a blaster shot in the silence of night. Wine splattered her freshly mopped floors.

Heart slamming against her chest, Kazi peered around the staircase wall and toward the entryway. A glaring Commander Wolffe followed by a narrow-eyed Commander Cody shadowed the hall. The front door snapped behind them, the lock sliding in place.

The anger emanating from them was palpable enough that Kazi’s stomach dropped. Tension slithered down her spine and she retreated into the middle of the kitchen, the bar serving as a barrier.

The clones trudged toward the bookcase, Commander Cody offering her a grim nod before disappearing into the basement. Commander Wolffe paused beside the bookcase. He tucked a small, worn notebook into his utility belt and lifted his gaze to hers.

A blackening blob puffed his right eye. His tetchy expression reminded her of their last conversation a few nights ago. The conversation when he rudely dismissed her.

Tapping her fingers against the counter, she studied the harsh lines of his face.

Mouth pressed in a thin line. Shoulders rigid. Jaw clenched painfully tight.

“Do you want to discuss the intel?” she asked.

It was like poking a shark with a fishing pole—purposeful agitation with the expectation of a reaction. She knew she should ignore him. Clean up the glass and go to bed. However, she wanted to antagonize him. Because he was rude and dismissive and she needed to know why he no longer wanted to share intel. Needed to know why she wasn’t considered good enough for him.

“I told you,” he said, voice taut with restraint, “I’ve changed my mind.”

“Why.”

The commander regarded her. Bored, unfazed by her question.

“I don’t understand you.” She chuffed a sardonic laugh. “You were the one who asked me to work on the intel—”

“I don’t believe you’re capable of handling it.”

Her lips pursed. “I attended one of the most prestigious universities in the Outer Rim. I received not only my first degree in basic analytics, but I received a second and third degree in military and political intelligence. Military analytics is my specialty. I’m more than credentialed to analyze your intelligence. More than you probably are as a soldier.”

Commander Wolffe released a scoff so full of scorn her vision reddened. The commander’s outline blurred at the edges, and she knew she needed to walk away.

“What’s your problem?” she demanded.

A moment of silence passed. The commander seemed to be wavering between his two options: engage or back away. His soldiery background must have won out because he squared his shoulders and let the bookcase close. He took a step closer, countenance ornery.

“My brothers and I are the ones out there. Running missions. Risking our lives,” Commander Wolffe said. His voice was low, strained with a rising rage that set her on edge. “We don’t have room for a shoddy analytic job. We don’t have room for mistakes.”

“My analyses are not shoddy,” Kazi hissed. “I dedicate time and effort to make sure they’re the most accurate they can be—”

“I know you don’t give a shit about the lives of my brothers. But I do.” He levelled the full weight of his glare on her. A glare full of vitriolic antipathy. “And I won’t put their lives at risk based on your analyses.”

Kazi blinked her shock, straightening her spine. This asshole was questioning her credibility. Questioning her effectiveness at a skillset she had honed for eight years. The skillset she dedicated years of her life to perfecting in order to escape the forced life of demure housewife and child-bearer.

“I would never put someone’s life at risk.” Heated rage turmoiled beneath her skin, churning hotter and faster. “You have no right to judge my skillset—”

“I reserve every right to question your credibility. These are my brothers at risk—”

“Then why did you ask me for help?”

“I miscalculated.” He shrugged. “I realize now you’re lacking the quality we need.”

Internally, she flinched, and it took more effort than she cared to admit to keep her features unruffled. His opinion didn’t matter. She knew her skillset was credible and refined, but she couldn’t entirely dissuade the self-doubt it procured.

“You’re the one who asked me for help, and now all you can do is ridicule my work?” A hollow laugh broke loose. “You’re pathetic.”

Commander Wolffe jerked away, his nostrils flaring and scowl hardening into deep fissures. He took a breath. And then another. Never looking away.

“Are you going to bring men around here?” The question caught her off guard but she didn’t miss the blatant mistrust and scorn. “I’ll need to know. For security purposes.”

Kazi eyed him for a long moment and then realization crashed into her.

The commander had overheard her argument with Daria. A good portion of it.

The judgment in his gaze—the expectation that she would risk their operation for a male—was despicable. And it pissed her off even more.

“That’s not a problem you need to worry about.” She fisted her hands at her sides to steady herself, both from the wine blurring her vision and the defensive anger howling to get out. “Instead of worrying about who I spend my time with, maybe you should worry about your own missions. Since they’re clearly ineffective.”

It was a low blow. A punch straight to his ego and she knew it. She relished in his nearly imperceptible flinch.

“Shut up.”

“What? You don’t like hearing the truth? Your missions are pointless and do nothing for the good of the galaxy—”

“I’m rescuing my men. I’m doing something. What the fuck are you doing?”

Commander Wolffe took a step closer to the bar, running his tongue along his teeth. Kazi widened her stance, refusing to balk beneath his hostility.

“You’re a nobody from a backwater planet that thought it could rebel against the Empire.” The commander leaned across the bar. “What good did that do for your people? For the galaxy?”

Kazi suddenly felt both cold and hot. How he knew about Ceaia, she wasn’t sure, but it threw her off-kilter. An attack on a vulnerability she tried so hard to bury. An attack on the guilt she harbored for her cowardice.

“You wanna talk about doing nothing for the galaxy,” Commander Wolffe growled, “let’s start with you running from your planet. You could have stayed and fought. And instead, you saved yourself—”

“It would have been a massacre.” Her voice was quiet, underscored by a slight tremble. “Staying would have done nothing—”

He snorted. “You’re a coward.”

“I’m trying to help others. The rebel network—”

“Is an idealistic group of people. They naively believe they can take down the Empire—”

“And is it not naively idealistic to try to rescue clone soldiers from the Empire?” She snickered and the commander stilled, his features stony. “What’s the point? There are hundreds of thousands of clones. You can’t save them all.”

The accusation burrowed into her chest and flayed open the encaged emotions she worked tirelessly to repress. Her insides felt cold and tears—from both hurt and self-righteous anger—pressed at the corners of her eyes.

“How can you judge me for my home life when you don’t even understand the meaning of it?” She swallowed, ignoring the blood welling in her palms beneath her fingernails. “You’re a clone. What do you know about familial duty?”

The commander’s upper lip curled. “I have brothers—men I care for. Men I’m trying to save. Every mission I run is for them. What have you done for your family? Nothing.”

“You don’t know what I’ve done for my family. You don’t know what I do for them. You have no right—”

“And you had no right to question me—”

She was done with this argument. She was so fucking done with him.

“Ridicule the network; ridicule me. I don’t care. But you’re not the selfless hero you believe you are.” Stalking toward the staircase, Kazi threw him a final glare over her shoulder. “If you don’t trust my work—or me—then you can leave.”

A/N: Next chapter release – February 8th

This is where the fun begins.

Masterlist | Chapter 4 | Chapter 6

Tag: @ulchabhangorm

#fic rec #HOLY HELL IN A HANDBASKET #It's KAZI WITH A METAL CHAIR #that seems to be a common theme this week #but still #BIG OOF #commander wolffe #commander wolffe x oc #OC Kazi Ennari

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slutisnotabadword · 2 years ago

Text

(WAKANDA FOREVER SPOILERS)

From the moment the movie started and until the movie ended, it was perfect.

I knew the movie was going to emotional, and from the amazing trailers, my expectations were very high. And somehow Wakanda Forever has exceeded my expectations. Knowing that Shuri was trying to save T’Challa but was too late, broke my heart. And then the marvel intro came on and the ENTIRE theater was silent. This is defintely a movie that you have to watch in theaters before you watch it on DVD, because it’s the experience that carries the weight.

The plot is incredible and—being a person of color—it resonates with me deeply because there is definitely a disconnect between minorites and we often turn on eachother, instead of coming together and protect one another. And I think WF touches on that in a perfect way. Namor offering an alliance and then Wakanda and Talokan becoming enemies, but also in the end they come a sort of agreement. And then showcasing how they are SO similiar, even down to the way they greet eachother. It’s brillant.

The cinematography is breathtaking. When the Talokans attacked the ship, it was amazing. They were terrifying in the best way possible, and to have them sound like sirens???? WHEW, as someone who loves the lore of sirens, I was so excited to see that. And their backstory was just so facisinating, and the BIRTHING SCENE??? UGH. Each slow mo scene in this movie was perfectly balanced, and it didn’t seem like ti went on for too long or was over done, it was just right.

Now let’s get down to real spoilers.

KILMONGER?? WHEWWWWW. When I tell you that I could not have guessed that was going to happen… Immediately his presence was just UGH, I loved that cameo. And it’s also a cameo that makes sense. Considering this happens right after her mother drowned, Shuri has this immense amount of anger and she’s feeling vegeful. And who’s more angry and vegeful than Kilmonger??? Perfect.

THE SOUNDTRACK?? Fucking perfect. Personally, the best song is Alone by Burna Boy, and it’s just *chefs kiss*. And the scores itself was great. And the use of sound was well balanced, letting us simmer in those silent moments.

The jokes were fucking hilarious. Every single joke hit. Had everyone in the theater cracking tf up. I’m still chuckling at “bald headed demon”. PLS.

Riri was amazing, and she exceeding my expectations as well. Her comedic timing was on point. “Young, gifted and black” indeed.

There’s so much I could talk about this movie, but I don’t want this review to be terribly long. So let me hurry up and talk about the ending.

From the moment when Shuri had flashbacks of T’Challa and to when it was revealed that T’challa has A SON?? Tears. Nothing but tears. I sobbed so hard when I got back home. I don’t know how the hell marvel managed to avoid spoilers of Kilmonger AND T’Challa’s son (who is also named T’Challa, i’m literally sobbing), but they did it brillantly. The entire movie was an out of body experience that you could only feel if you go to the theaters. And I will even go far as to say it exceeds the first movie.

10/10.

#wakanda forever spoilers #wakanda forever #marvel #mcu #shuri black panther #black panther #black panther wakanda forever #wakanda forever review

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adarlingmess · 3 years ago

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Ugnayan

Summary:

Filipino word, noun: connection between persons, groups, countries, etc.

A collection of works detailing a manananggal clan's relations with the Treses, and their allies.

I: Ang Suhol / The Bribe

Summary: Basilio visits an old friend.

Words: 2048

Relationships: Basilio/Original Female Character

Language: Filipino-English/Taglish

Warnings: Strong language, crude humor

Author’s Notes: Gonna post this here on my main art account and reblog it to my writing account for archiving purposes. Whew, I'm not done translating the other fic yet, but I've been itching to write this! Have some excerpts from a possible future fic I might write. Contents are in Taglish, and I might translate it to full English at a later date if this picks up international readers.

I blame my mutuals on insta for urging me to ship them HAHAHAHA

Two words to describe this Thursday afternoon are slow and relaxed.

White plastic tables line up on the gravel, each one hosting an assortment of goodies for sale; some have stickers and prints, while some have old books, clothes, and other knick knacks. A few tables even sell food and refreshments. Siomai and pandan tea, which the locals affectionately call “pantea” are selling fast, and so did the isaw, betamax, and other grilled laman-loob served with spiced vinegar, their smoky aroma wafting throughout the college grounds.

The golden hour is passing sluggishly, and the crisp February air made the afternoon even slower. Students, professors, and guests alike browsed at their own leisure in the cold weather. With class hours almost over, members of the local student council, dressed in black polo shirts with their organization’s logo on the breast, are going around inviting people to attend the benefit concert to be held tomorrow night at the parking lot.

It’s that time of the year again in Sabina Marie’s college: Fine Arts Month.

For some, like Sab and company, it’s an opportunity to earn more money by signing up for the booths. They got invited to play in the college’s concert too, and they managed to score a spot on the last day of the university's annual fair.

Jango’s strumming his guitar, practicing for tomorrow’s set, while Agnes is in charge of the sales. Lukas still isn’t done with his photography class… which he had taken twice now, much to his professor’s dismay. Sab’s unpacking the boxes of their comics, unsold leftovers from the last convention they attended months ago. She shakes the dust off of her hands after the last box has been emptied, and excuses herself to wash her hands.

While scrubbing the dirt from underneath her black fingernails, Sab thinks back to yesterday’s events. It’s been years since she was in contact with her clan, so a visit from Alexandra Trese and the Kambal was the last thing she expected. Worse, they were working on a case involving the aswang, and Trese interrogated Sab because she’s a suspect. On university grounds too, drawing unnecessary attention to her. Had they brought a cop with them, she would’ve ran to the campus security. Sab’s fellow band members tried to keep the mood light, but the encounter left them all spooked.

The rogue aswang would’ve been happy to see their faces, if it wasn’t for her mother, the Reyna Manananggal, deciding to betray the Treses and side with Villaceran’s clan during Alexandra’s Great Balete Tree trials.

Now she feels that she carries the weight of her decision too, despite being too young to understand what happened back then.

She grimaces and decides not to dwell on it further.

On the way back, she sees Agnes speaking to a familiar figure, clad in black, and her heart rate skyrockets.

“Sab! Manliligaw mo!” Agnes jokes, shouting loud enough for the other tables to hear.

Upon seeing Basilio, the Kambal with long hair, waving at her with that stupid, boyish smile on his face, Sab’s shoulders tenses up.

“Why is he back? What the fuck, seryoso ba,” she mutters under her breath. She stomps her way back to their table. “Ulol gago di ko yan manliligaw. Echoserang to.”

“Uy Sabina, musta?” Basilio asks her.

“Bakit ka andito? Hindi ba sinabi ko na sa inyo, tahimik na buhay ko dito sa Epey. Bakit pa ako gagawa ng kalokohang ikakapahamak ko?”

“Uy chill, hindi to tungkol doon. Di ba pwedeng gusto ko lang mag catch-up sa kababata ko?”

Overhearing their conversation, Agnes leans in, while Jango scowls. “Wait, childhood friends kayo?’’

“Oo,” Basilio answers, while Sab says a flat “Hindi” at the same time.

The younger Kambal gives Sab a look of mock hurt, while Sab rolls her eyes.

“Naging kalaro ko lang siya at one point noong sinasama ako ni Mommy sa mga meeting nila ng papa ni Alex. Tas salbahe pa sila ng kuya niya. Pinahiram ko paboritong libro ko tas napunit nila.”

“Grabe ka naman Sab, inayos naman namin tapos nagbati naman tayo diba?”

“So… childhood friends nga?” Agnes replies, giving Basilio a cheeky smile.

“Oo nga! Eleven or twelve years old ata siya noon, tapos tinuruan niya ako kung paano mag-drawing ng tao. Reyna manananggal daw mama niya kaya ‘prinsesa’ tawag ko sa kanya,” Basilio says, prompting Sab to run her hands through her hair in frustration.

“Tapos madalas kami maglaro ng tagu-taguan. One time siya yung taya tas di niya ako mahanap. Umiyak siya eh,” Basilio continues. Agnes is smiling from ear to ear, while Jango is so close to jumping the demigod.

Their encounter with the Treses yesterday left a bad taste in the young segben’s mouth, and he’s wary of any dangers to the pack. The pack in question is Gabi ng Kasalanan, their band.

Hearing those stories didn’t help at all.

“Oo, paborito akong paiyakin ng demonyong to,” Sab murmurs, trying to hide her embarrassment.

“Pero aminin mo, napapatawa din kita.”

As Agnes watches the interaction unfold, she couldn’t help but giggle. “Yiee, ang cute niyo naman. Kakameet niyo lang uli pero you bicker like an old married couple.”

Jango shoots them a glare akin to a territorial dog’s, and Sab groans at her best friend’s teasing, excusing herself to drag Basilio away from the table before her bandmates get any more wrong ideas.

Leading him to a secluded area near the old washrooms and the dilapidated room that used to be the college’s dark room, the rogue manananggal leans against a wall, and pats her pockets for her lighter and cigarettes.

“Dito nga tayo mag-usap,” Sab grunts. “...talagang naka-suit ka pa? I mean, andami naming nakaitim dito sa college, pero mukha kang prof na mags-speech.”

“Napadaan lang ako. May inimbestigahan kami ni bossing sa may city hall kanina.”

“Nagyoyosi ka ba?”

“Nope. Ayaw ni bossing sa amoy.”

The manananggal shrugs. She tries to light the cigarette a few times, but her lighter’s failing her. “Ugh. Papasindi nalang ako kay Agnes mamaya. So, bakit ka nga napadaan dito?”

“Di ba pwedeng nangangamusta lang? Bakit ba ang sungit mo? Di mo rin ba ako na-miss?”

Sab remains quiet for some time. She had heard some… questionable things about the Kambal, especially Basilio, thanks to Agnes’ connections and social media stalking skills, but she can’t help but think back to that goofy little boy who sported a messy ponytail and a monobrow from her youth. Despite all the times he made her cry, he did make her laugh more.

That same boy is a man now, a tall and handsome one at that, and he’s asking her if she missed him.

Sab would have blushed, if the situation didn’t come straight out of a cheesy cash cow flick.

“Namiss din.”

The usually teasing smile on the half-breed’s lips softens into a genuine one.

“I think magegets mo naman kung bakit ganito ako ngayon,” Sab starts, putting her lighter away. “Masaya na ako sa buhay ko kasama ang mga tao, at yung banda. Si Ate Weng and si Izzie nalang nakakausap ko sa angkan. Siyempre magagambala ako kung bigla nalang kayo pupunta dito ng bossing mo para i-interrogate ako, no.”

“Sorry pala doon, pero baka pwede mong tulungan si bossing kung may nalalaman ka.”

Sab squints her eyes.

“Sabi ko na nga ba may iba kang pakay sa pagpunta mo dito. Pinadala ka ng bossing mo no? Eto ah, di ko haharangin ang pag-iimbestiga niyo sa angkan, basta wag niyo lang sasaktan si Ate Weng at si Iz. Pero hindi ako tutulong. Sana maintindihan ng bossing niyo.”

Basilio leans in with his hands behind his back and that infuriating smile on his face, and Sab finds it sexier the more she looks at him. She will never admit it though.

“Kaya nga may suhol ako para mapa-oo ka eh.”

Eyebrows perking up, Sab looks at Basilio up and down, cheeks reddening. She scowls and puts her hands on her hips. “Anong akala mo sa akin?! Hoy, sabihin mo sa bossing mo na wag niya akong itulad sa mga taong hanging nakakantutan niyo ni Crispin!”

This time, it’s Basilio’s turn to be flustered. Sab’s choice of words made it worse. Who knew his bespectacled, nerdy, crybaby kalaro in his youth would grow up to have such a filthy mouth?

“Teka, paano mo nalaman ang tungkol doon?! Nagf-flirt naman kami nila Amie bago kami- uy, mali ata iniisip mo, hindi kami-”

Not giving him any opportunities to explain, Sab keeps talking. “Kung sa tingin ni Trese mapapapayag niya ako kung ibubugaw ka niya sa akin, yikes. Grabe, ang lala! Hindi kita hinuhusgahan. Di ko lang akalaing kaya yun gawin ng Lakan, eh para na kayong magkapatid.”

Upon hearing Sab’s accusations, it’s Basilio’s turn to ask “Anong akala mo sa akin?!”

Sweat starts to form on Sab’s forehead. “Di ba ginawa kayong pamabayad ni Trese sa mga taong hangin na tumulong sa kanya sa karera niya kay Mal Armanaz? Tapos ginawa na daw bar ngayon yung The Diabolical- shit, mali ba ako ng basa?”

The long-haired Kambal looks at her in silence for a few moments, then bursts into laughter.

“Aaminin ko, mukha akong macho dancer, pero di bugaw si bossing, loko. Tsaka di ganoong klaseng bar yung Diabolical. Eto kasi yung suhol na sinasabi ko,” Basilio explains, handing her a plastic bag.

There are several sticks of hot, freshly grilled isaw inside. “Kala mo makakalimutan ko favorite mo?”

Sabina’s face is red with embarrassment, and she graciously accepts the snack.

“Fuck. Buti naman, kasi kung bumisita ako uli sa Diabolical at nakita ko kayo ni Crispin na sumasayaw ng hubad, tatawag ako ng pulis tas lalaklak ako ng isang liter ng Pulang Tikbalang para mabura sa isip ko yung nakita ko.”

The manananggal closes her eyes, bites into one of the sticks, and sighs. When she opens them, she sees that Basilio is looking at her with that mischievous look on his face.

She nearly chokes on the isaw.

“Tangina naman, Bas! Ano yang tingin na yan?”

He laughs at her, then he claps her back with an open palm, and puts his arms around her shoulders like they used to as preteens.

Internally, she added, “Nakakatunaw naman.”

Too dazed from their conversation to shrug him off, Sab gives in to the touch. They stayed like that for a few moments, before Basilio spoke up.

“Naalala mo yung huling beses tayo nagkita? Mga one week yun bago ng birthday mo tas may pa-Valentine’s party si Hank noon.”

Sab relents and reminisces with him, a soft laugh escaping her burgundy lips. “Oo. Umiyak ako kasi sabi ni mommy di na daw ako babalik pagkatapos noon.”

Basilio smiles. Genuine. Sweet. A rarity to see a smile from him like that. “Tas kiniss mo ko kasi akala mo di na tayo magkikita.”

Sab’s eyes widens, remembering that moment of childhood innocence and puppy love, then she moves away from Basilio, cheeks burning.

“Luh. Hindi kaya. Walang nangyaring ganoon.”

“First kiss ko yun tapos hindi ko maaalala?”

“Mali ka ata ng pagkaalala!”

“Tanungin mo pa si kuya Crispin. Pikon pa nga siya noon kasi siya walang kiss eh.”

“Ewan ko sayo, Bas. Kung sa tingin mo mapapapayag mo akong tumulong dahil lang sa isaw at sa pagpapacute mo, nagkakamali ka.”

“Edi tara, kung ayaw mo talaga kami tulungan, bonding nalang tayo.”

The manananggal princess ponders for a moment. “Tutugtog kami ng banda bukas, tapos next week sa fair. Bili ka ng tickets. Panoorin niyo kami. Para na din makampante yung bossing mo na wala talaga akong ginagawang kahina-hinala.”

Basilio smiles at her. “Game. Sabihan ko si bossing. May mga kailangan din kaming manmanan sa area na to.”

“Tsaka libre mo pa ako ng isaw,” Sab adds, motioning to the now bare barbecue sticks in the plastic bag she’s holding.

“Sige ba.”

“Bilhan mo din ako ng pantea.”

The words die on Basilio’s lips, and he blinks a few times, unsure if he heard Sab right. Then, he smiles like the devil, and goes for the kill.

“Ahhh. Sige, saan ka ba usually bumibili ng lingerie, and pwede ko ba piliin yung kulay?”

Realizing her mistake, Sab gives him a mortified glare.

“Shit, di ka nga pala taga-dito. Ano yang ngiting yan? Gago, pandan tea kasi!”

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haravath0t · 4 years ago

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A Christmas Wish - Prologue

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Filipino!Reader

A/N: First off, thank you so so much anon for requesting this! I’m sorry that I didn’t get to this sooner! This oneshot will be multiple parts as well, as there’s so much to the Filipino culture that I’d love to take time to uncover, and I just think one part will not suffice. My culture is something I hold deep in my heart being a Filipino American, so I hope that you all feel the same love and joy I feel when surrounding myself into this wonderful culture. Anon, I hope this brings you joy and that this request fulfills your wishes! Happy reading, lovelies!

Request: hi! i know it’s a bit late but can I please request a filipino! reader spending the holidays in the philippines with steve rogers? thank you! I hope you decide to do this!

“Thank you for flying Philippine Airlines, the heart of the Filipino,” the flight attendant says into the intercom, finishing her speech before she takes her seat. You squealed and fastened your seatbelt as well as adjusting your business class seat, thanks to your wonderful boyfriend. You looked over at him with pure excitement.

“You know, when you said you had a big gift for me for the holidays, I didn’t think it would be a planned trip to the Philippines!” you exclaimed with a giggle, making Steve smile and peck your lips before holding your hand. I knew my best girl misses her family back at home. The team helped me arrange this for us. I’m glad you’re excited.” You smile even more. “It’s perfect Steve. Thank you. Hayyyy, if only my parents and brother can be able to experience this with us. They’d love to see the relatives as much as I do.” However, your wishful thinking came to a halt as the plane’s tires met the ground, indicating that your flight landed safely. You giggled and clapped along with the small kids, lolos (grandpas), and lolas (grandmas) when the plane started to slow down and park itself, leaving Steve confused as he slowly followed suit.

After you went through customs and obtained all the luggage for your month-long stay, it didn’t take long for Steve to notice that this was so so much different from Brooklyn, or the United States in general. The humidity already caught him off guard despite the various times you’ve warned about the heat. But, there were more important things coming at you very very soon.

The minute you two walked to the sliding doors into the humid weather, you were greeted by a huge crowd of people. “Huy! Andito na s’ya! Dali! Dali, andito na!” (Hey! She’s here! Hurry! Hurry! She’s here!) You heard someone exclaim before the huge crowd made its way towards you. With a wide smile you squeal and hug each of your family, exchanging short conversations before moving to the next family member. “That’s her family” Steve concluded with shock, watching the exchanges in awe quietly, away from the bunch. “NANAY! TATAY! (Mom! Dad!)” You gasp in surprise, the tears you tried so hard to hold in finally were let out, as your parents embrace you tightly, your older brother joining the long awaited reunion.

“Oh, anak. We’ve missed you! Ang ganda mo rin, nako, Daddy, matanda na tayo!” (You’re so beautiful too, goodness, Daddy, we are old now!) You mom says proudly, taking a step back alongside your father as they look at you with pride. “Nako, Mommy wag mo magsabi yun, matagal lang hindi tayo nagkita!” (Goodness, mommy don’t say that, we just haven’t seen each other in a while!) You respond back, wiping your tears away and smiling. “But.. how did you know I was coming?” “Your boyfriend, anak. Hah, kaya nga pala hanggang tenga ang ngiti mo!” (No wonder you’re smiling from ear to ear) Your dad teases as a smirk grows on his face, but your eyes widened as you remembered.

“Steve!” you exclaimed as you made your way to him, holding his hand and quickly pulling him towards where your parents and kuya is, a nervous smile now on your face. “Ma, Pa, Kuya, ito si Steve. Boyfriend ko po.” (This is Steve. My boyfriend.) You say a bit nervously, clutching onto his hand. Steve smiled shyly, politely extending his hand to shake your brother’s hand. Right after, he gently took your mom’s hand and brought it to his forehead, doing the same with your dad’s, leaving your family pleasantly surprised. “I am Steve. Steve Rogers. It’s nice to meet you in the flesh. Ummm… thank you for being able to come. I’m sorry if it was last minute.” Steve says shyly and nervously as he holds your hand again, not sure whether his hands were sweating from the humidity or the nervousness. Your mom couldn’t help but laugh. “Wow, anak. You even taught him how to bless! Hello, Steve. Thank you for letting us tag along with you two. We got a little lonely in LA when our daughter flew out to New York,” she teases with a laugh. “I see you were so kind to shoot us a call to come here. What kind of guy like you is doing with my daughter?” Your dad butts in, eyebrows raised as he inspects Steve up and down.

“I just wanna give Y/N the love she deserves, sir,” Steve responds, earning a big smile from your dad before he pats Steve on the back. “Very good, very good. Then she picked well.” He nods in approval before a thumbs up. “Mommy, Daddy, tara na, alis na tayo. Para pwede na tayo magpahinga,” (Come on, let’s leave. So we can relax.) You say, motioning to your bags. “Hoy! Kami na, bebe, huwag ka magalala! Pasok lang kayo sa van!” (We can do it, bebe, don’t worry! You guys just go in the van!) One of your Titas exclaimed, helping you all load your stuff in the trunk. You laughed as you saw your cousins and Titas take a peek at your boyfriend. “Ang tangkad n’ya!” (he’s so tall!) “Gwapo n’ya!” (he’s handsome) “Bagay sila dalawa!” (They both are fit for each other!) Your Titas “whisper” to each other as they made their ways to either the van or the jeepney. You giggled as you buckled yourself up next to Steve, your parents and kuya joining you two as well, sighing when the AC meets your sweaty face. “To get to Lucena City, it’ll take about 4 hours. So we can just sit tight.” You say excitedly as Steve wraps an arm around you. “Good to know. Maybe you can catch me up on some of your culture while we get there.” Steve chuckles, earning a laugh from your parents. “Oh, don’t worry, we’ll help you with that.” Your mom giggles, the van now starting to make its way out of Ninoy Aquino International Airport.

Steve never experienced anything like this, but he was quite entertained at the immediate welcome as well as the loud and chaotic, yet jolly atmosphere your family gave off. He was stepping into another world. Your world. Your heritage. Sure, you were from LA then became a New Yorker, but deep down, you were Filipino, and Steve was excited to see the part of you that held the most valuable spot in your heart throughout this month.

Tags: @world-of-aus @world-of-aus-reads @whew-oh-em-gee @tomholland-96 @lordyitsjordy @letstalkaboutsebbaby @thee-soom-soom @lookiamtrying @vesper852 @hailhydra920 @buckybarnesthehotshot @heyiamthatbitch

(if you want to be added to the tag list, send an ask to let me know! :))

#steve rogers one shot #steve rogers x reader #steve Rogers x Filipino!reader #steve rogers au #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fic #steve rogers imagine #mcu #steve rogers #mcu imagine

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themurphyzone · 4 years ago

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PatB/BatB AU: Imprisoned

Summary: Pinky tries to rescue his father from a spooky, mysterious castle, only to wind up the prisoner of a terrifying monster. Also the terrifying monster has no fucking idea what he's doing, but Pinky doesn't know that.

AN: Because I desperately want to write a BatB/PatB fic but I don’t want to tackle the entire movie cause this movie is more slow burn than most other Disney Princess stories. I decided to try the scene where Belle first meets the Beast just for curiosity’s sake.

AO3 Link

Pharfignewton’s hooves nervously stirred up dead leaves and twigs as she halted in front of an eerie black gate, its bars crisscrossing over each other as if to prevent anyone from entering…or leaving.

An unfamiliar sense of dread swept over Pinky. The enormous castle beyond the gate loomed, the highest towers piercing the thick, gray clouds above. Still, Pharfignewton’s instincts were never wrong. If she said Papa was somewhere in that large, gloomy castle, then he was going to be in that large, gloomy castle.

Pinky gently flicked the reins, but Pharfignewton didn’t move. A tremble ran down her back.

“It’s okay, Fig,” Pinky whispered. He stroked her mane, and Pharfignewton whinnied softly. “Just think of your favorite things. Like apples, carrots, grassy meadows…”

A gust of wind blew the gate open. It crashed against the unforgiving stone wall.

Pharfignewton leapt back, the sudden move nearly pitching Pinky to the ground, but he clung to several strands of her mane and quickly scrambled into his usual position at the base of her neck.

She trotted across the stone bridge, ears swiveling in every direction.

“P-poit. They oughta change the lock on that thing,” Pinky murmured as the gate slammed shut.

Pharfignewton stumbled against a crack in the stone pathway leading up to the castle’s front door. She couldn’t go any further. The stone would damage her hooves, and they’d need to be in tip-top shape for the ride home.

“Fig, you’ll have to wait here.” Pinky climbed up her mane and onto her long muzzle, petting the soft fur between her eyes. Her head rose indignantly, stamping a hoof against the stone. “You shouldn’t go onto the stone without horseshoes. It’ll ruin your lovely hooves. And don’t worry, Papa and I will be back before you can say sugarcube!”

They couldn’t afford horseshoes for Pharfignewton, which prevented Pinky from riding her as often as he would’ve liked. Pinky’s chest ached from the reminder. Pharfignewton deserved pretty shoes.

She let out a gentle puff of air as she lowered him to the ground, giving him an encouraging nudge.

Pinky slowly approached the heavy doors, a brass gargoyle with bulging eyes serving as a doorknob. But the knob was at human height, not mouse height, so even with a running start and flying leap, he couldn’t reach it.

Then he remembered his manners. Breaking into a haunted, abandoned castle was awfully rude. What if he disturbed some ghosts in whatever ghostly things they did?

“Hello?” Pinky called, pressing an ear to the door as he knocked. “Anyone home?”

Nobody answered, but the door creaked slightly, allowing Pinky enough room to squeeze inside. Pinky bundled Mama’s well-worn traveling cloak around himself, trying not to think of the scolding he might’ve received as a young mouse about breaking and entering into strange places.

But he wasn’t stealing anything. He was just going to find Papa and bring him home. If Mama were alive, she’d understand.

Somehow the castle interior was even colder and draftier than outside. Gargoyles lined the walls, crouching with their wings outstretched, and each one seemed to have their eyes trained on him. The inside was mostly stone, with a wine-red carpet leading from the doorway and splitting into two paths along an enormous staircase.

Torches and lanterns hung along the walls, but they were dim and barely provided light to see by.

Whoever built the castle must’ve had a great love for the Gothic style. Pinky could appreciate dedication to the theme, but he shied away from an eagle-like gargoyle all the same. There were eyes boring into him. He just knew it.

“Hello?” Pinky shouted.

“Hello!”

Pinky grinned. The echo made up for the dreary décor.

“Narf!”

This time, he cupped his hands to his mouth, took a deep breath, and yelled from the top of his lungs.

“FJORD!”

Feeling slightly bolder, Pinky played a quick game of eenie-meenie-miney-mo for the path he’d take, since there were so many of them and he couldn’t choose just one. There were so many rooms. It would take a while to go through them all, so he’d have to chance it.

On the last count of ‘mo’, Pinky’s finger pointed at the rightmost staircase, so he climbed the long flight, his bare feet sinking into the carpet. He hoped the ghosts would forgive him for tracking dirt inside.

Clink clink clink.

Funny. Feet didn’t usually make that kind of noise on carpet.

Probably just the creaking of old metal. This castle had definitely seen better days, judging from the cobwebs that spanned entire corners far above his head.

He reached the top of the staircase. More doors and rooms awaited him down the dark hallway.

Pinky knocked on the nearest door. He heard a splash of water and the sweep of a mop coming from within. A maid, maybe?

They could point him in the right direction!

“Hello? Are you a castle maid? I’m sorry for interrupting your work, but I’m looking for my Papa!” Pinky shouted, pressing an ear against the door. Someone whispered urgently, the exact words too muffled to make out, and the splashing and sweeping noises stopped. “His name is Jack, he’s a little shorter than me, and…oh, he has a big bushy mustache too! He tends to get vegetable bits stuck in it when he eats. Have you seen him?”

No reply.

Pinky’s tail twitched nervously. Maybe the maids really didn’t like having their work interrupted.

“I’m sorry, I’ll…I’ll let you get back to work,” Pinky said. He backed away from the door, the hood of his cloak falling into his eyes.

Clink clink clink.

That noise again. Pinky lifted the hood away from his eyes, and he came face-to-face with a teacup, and he was pretty sure he hadn’t seen any teacups yet. Mostly gargoyles and spooky stuff, really.

The teacup was about his height, with a polished white surface and golden trim around its rim and base. Its handle was a shining red, and its pink base looked almost skirt-like, with a single yellow flower painted on the front.

“Aww, what a cute teacup!” Pinky exclaimed. He’d never seen any teacup like this before. Not even Snowball had something this ornate and pretty. “Wonder who painted you? Whoever it was, they’ve really got a great eye for color!”

He could’ve sworn the teacup’s handle lifted out of pride, but maybe the dim lighting was just playing tricks on him.

“Well, I don’t know how you got here, but I can’t just leave you alone either. What if somebody stepped on you?” Pinky lifted the teacup by the handle and carried it further down the hall. The teacup’s base seemed to twitch every few seconds.

He didn’t know where the kitchen was, but surely there had to be a cabinet or cupboard somewhere around here. He turned left when the path split again, and counted his lucky stars once he spotted a small table up ahead. The higher surface was several feet above his head, but the lower platform was at his shoulder level.

Odd. There was a candelabra and a mantle clock here too. Strange place to store one’s knickknacks, but then again, Pinky kept his rock collection in a tea kettle, so he couldn’t be too judgy.

Pinky set the teacup on the lower platform, sliding it over until it touched the candelabra and clock. The two objects were oddly painted, with black and white markings running throughout their brass bodies. The candelabra’s lower half was painted brown, and the clock’s topmost carvings looked almost like a cap.

Though none of them were similar objects, Pinky thought they fit together quite well.

Curiously, Pinky ran his finger over the decorative carvings on the legs. “Egad, this must be real mahogany!” he said. His fingertips were covered in a thick layer of dust when he pulled away, and he shook it off, sneezing at the small cloud that formed. “Whew, really dusty though.”

“Gesundheit!” a Scouse-accented voice said.

“Narf! Thanks a bunch!” Pinky wiped the remaining dust against the inside lining of his apron. It was going in the wash later, so it didn’t bother him too much.

Only as he climbed another flight of stairs did he realize he hadn’t seen any living being yet. Maybe the castle was just full of polite ghosts.

The carpet beneath his feet was ragged with little holes revealing cold stone underneath, the ceiling arching far above him. The pillars had rough seals over their creeping, winding cracks. There were no gargoyles, no furniture, no rooms at all.

Nothing but dust, cracks, and cobwebs.

It seemed that not even the ghosts used this area much.

“Papa?” Pinky shouted. His echoes answered back, yet there was no sign of Papa.

Wind battered the stone walls, and Pinky’s heart leapt from his chest. He wrapped his cloak around himself, willing his heart to stay where it belonged. For goodness sake, he’d grown up in Paris. If streets full of reeking garbage didn’t scare him, then this shouldn’t either.

Pinky reached a dead end, the path blocked by a barren mass of stone. With a sigh, he turned around. There wasn’t anything here. Maybe he should try the second floor again? There were a lot of rooms he hadn’t checked.

A light flickered around the corner, a bright circle of hope illuminating the unfeeling stone. Pinky hadn’t gone in that direction yet. He hadn’t planned to, but the light skipped and waved, beckoning him closer. And if there was light, that meant somebody was in the castle after all!

“Narf! Excuse me!” Pinky cried, rushing over to the ray of light. “I don’t mean to interrupt your work, but if you could please tell me-“

The light vanished. Pinky pressed his hand to the wall. It was dark and scary in here. That light had been the first sign of life he’d seen in this castle.

A shrill creak startled a ‘troz’ out of him. But it meant someone was moving around, so he followed it until he came to a doorway in the middle of the corridor.

The door was open, so Pinky peered inside.

A winding, narrow staircase led upwards. There was no carpet, only coarse and rough stone. Then the light returned, a shining beacon in the dark.

“There you are,” Pinky whispered, hauling himself onto the first step. These stairs weren’t as smooth as the rest of the castle’s, but years of routine chores had given him enough upper body strength to manage just fine.

Cold seeped into his fur. His teeth chattered, but he pushed forward. Papa needed him.

A candelabra rested on a nearby platform, its three candles burning brightly. It had the same brown base and markings as the candelabra he’d seen downstairs. Funny. He never knew candelabras came in matching sets. But once again, he was alone.

Not even a ghost in sight.

“I could’ve sworn I heard someone…” Pinky sighed. The room in front of him only contained a dimly lit torch and a row of heavy, barred doors. Fire provided the only colors, and it wasn’t enough to chase the cold, damp shadows away. Neither was the thin, colorless light that peeked from the cracks of the foundation above. “Is anyone here?”

A hacking cough came from behind the door nearest to the torch.

“Pinky?” a weak voice murmured.

Pinky’s ears perked as he rushed over to the door. There was a barred window close to the ground, Papa’s face peeking out from between the thick steel pieces. His fur was dirty and wet, eyes wide open with fright. He stared straight through Pinky, gripping the hood of Pinky’s cloak with desperate, clammy hands.

Papa was in a cell.

Pinky bit his lip. How? Papa wasn’t a criminal. Sure, his machines blew up a lot, but that was hardly cause for jail!

“Papa! Are you okay? Did you see any ghosts?” Pinky gently took Papa’s hands in his own, quickly rubbing the pale pink skin to bring some warmth back. “Poit. I guess they weren’t as polite as I thought…”

Papa stammered as Pinky drew him close. The bars were wide enough that Papa could slip through them easily, but as much as Pinky tugged on his arm, Papa refused to budge, heels digging into the cracks underfoot. “He’s…he’s no g-g-ghost, Pinky. Y-you have to go. Save yourself.”

“He? You mean whoever put you in here?” Pinky repeated. Papa’s bushy mustache quivered, the tiny hairs unkempt and matted. He couldn’t speak, his hands freezing in Pinky’s own. They had to get out of here. The sooner Papa warmed up in front of the cottage’s fireplace, the better.

“Food pellets. There are no food pellets here…” Papa murmured. “Your mother made the best food pellets in the world.”

Pinky’s heart clenched at the reminder. “I know. She made the best. We should go now. Please, Papa?”

Later, when they got back to the cottage, he was going to ask exactly why Papa wasn’t at the fair. Why Pharfignewton was unhitched from the wagon and terrified out of her mind. How he’d gotten locked up in the first place.

Papa’s shivers were fiercer than before.

“It’s safe and warm at home. Let’s go…” Pinky whimpered, but Papa’s arms remained glued to the cold, unfeeling bars.

Papa’s mouth opened…

“Run, Pinky!”

A thundering roar shook the entire prison. The floor, walls, and ceiling trembled with a frightened rattle. Pinky clamped his hands against his ears, and Papa tried to do the same, though he was shaking too violently to do it right.

The only light came from above now.

A massive clawed hand clamped painfully around Pinky’s shoulder and yanked him around, the prison briefly becoming nothing more than a dark blur with a swirl of purple.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?”

Pinky blinked the stars out of his vision, pressing his back against Papa, wordlessly urging him to dart to the back corner of the cell for his safety. But Papa tightly gripped Pinky’s shoulders, and Pinky winced as Papa’s fingers dug into a sore spot.

An enormous shadow loomed above them, its shape melting into the darkness. The only features Pinky could see were a pair of sharp, white fangs and the trailing end of a purple cape.

Pinky’s ears flattened, his heart pounding out of his chest. “Who are you?” he called out, trying to keep his voice steady. He had to be brave for Papa.

“The master of this castle.”

Every word was accompanied by a low, animalistic snarl. Pinky caught the gleam of long, twisted horns atop the shadow’s head.

“Please, let Papa out,” Pinky begged. Another growl cut him off, and Pinky’s throat tightened in panic, but he continued to plead his case. His words were useless. He was use-no, not now. He couldn’t afford self-doubt. “It’s cold here. Can’t you see he’s sick?”

“THEN HE SHOULDN’T HAVE TRESPASSED ON MY PROPERTY!”

More cruel white fangs were exposed.

“But he could die!” Pinky pleaded. “Please, I’ll do anything!”

“There’s nothing you can do. He’s my prisoner.”

The shadow moved again, always skirting the edge of the light.

“There must be something…” Pinky murmured. But he had no money or valuables to offer, and trading Pharfignewton when she was a valued member of the family was out of the question. He looked down at his hands…and he had his answer. “Wait!”

Pinky reached for the shadow’s cape, but a bloodshot glare made him stop and think better of it.

Pinky closed his eyes. And he sealed his fate.

“Take me instead.”

The shadow turned away with a scoff.

“YOU!”

Pinky tried not to flinch. He didn’t have much value. He could keep house, but that was hardly a unique skill in the village. But he had no other material besides his clothes and fur.

“You would…take his place?” The harsh tone and growl vanished. The shadow’s deep, guttural voice sounded more confused than furious, as if he hadn’t expected such a trade.

And why should he?

Even so, Pinky had to push forward. There was no turning back now. “If I did,” Pinky said, just wanting to make sure before he agreed to anything. “Would you let him go?”

“Pinky, you don’t know what you’re doing!” Papa hissed.

I’m saving you. That’s what I’m doing.

Complete silence. Pinky bit his lip. Finally, the shadow spoke. “Yes,” the shadow drawled the word softly. “But…you must promise to remain here for the rest of your life.”

Pinky gripped the folds of his dress.

Rest of my life?

Would he ever see Papa again? Pharfignewton? The little cottage in the countryside?

Trade everything to be trapped with this shadow?

A shadow had to belong to somebody…

“I’d like to know who I’m speaking with,” Pinky said. “Would you come into the light, please?”

For a moment, there was nothing but an anxious growl. Then a pink, hairless foot slid into the colorless light.

A human?

Couldn’t be. The feet were tipped with sharp claws, and the heels lifted off the ground. Nor did they look like they belonged to any sort of rodent Pinky had ever met.

A pair of ragged black trousers. A long, crooked tail with many sharp bends. Grayish-brown fur over a large chest and pudgy stomach halfway covered by the purple cape. Arms that were far too thick, long, and coarse for even the largest rat.

The shadow slowly raised his head, curved black horns adding to his already intimidating height. Large, rounded ears. A broad, wide face with sagging cheeks and thick, furrowed brows.

But what struck Pinky the most was the creature’s unreadable expression. Though he was obviously angry, it was impossible to tell if those narrowed pink eyes were glaring at him with disgust or hatred. Despite the light, the eyes were partially hidden by dark patches of fur. He was silent, but a pair of fangs were still exposed.

Placing the species was impossible. He seemed to be many animals at once.

“Narf,” Pinky whispered.

The monster’s brows lifted in surprise, and if Papa weren’t locked away right now, it might’ve been comical.

Pinky turned away, unable to brave through the staredown, but he felt the monster’s gaze boring into his back.

“I won’t let you do this!” Papa cried out.

But he had to. For Papa’s freedom.

Pinky lifted his head. He stood up, gently sliding Papa’s hand off his shoulder. He let the touch linger for as long as possible and gave his Papa one last smile before turning around.

The monster was hunched over, one clawed hand resting on the ground. It wasn’t a bow of courtesy, but he seemed to have trouble with his balance. He growled in warning, as if challenging Pinky to say something about his position.

Pinky approached slowly, each step echoing in his ear. The monster didn’t move. When their faces were just inches apart, Pinky closed his eyes.

“I promise,” Pinky said. He stuck out his hand to shake on it, because that’s what people did when they wanted to set their deals in stone.

“DONE!”

The monster snarled and shoved past Pinky. Unable to keep standing much longer, Pinky dropped to his knees and wept, unable to hold back his tears anymore.

He wouldn’t see the light of day again. Trapped forever with a monster in this lonely, dark place.

There was a squeak and the sound of frantic scampering behind him, and Pinky opened his eyes to see Papa’s desperate face, pleading with him to reconsider. “Pinky, listen to me! I’m old, but you have so much to-“ Papa’s words cut off as the monster dragged him off Pinky, lumbering towards the stairs on all fours with a hand clenched around Papa’s cloak.

“Wait!” Pinky shouted.

But the monster didn’t care. He and Papa disappeared down the stairs, their pleas for mercy falling on deaf ears.

He never got to say goodbye.

o-o-o-o-o

Papa was thrown into a carriage that moved on spindly, wooden legs and carried across the stone bridge. The carriage disappeared into the forest, Papa’s cries fading away.

Pinky clung to the barred window that was several feet off the ground and several stories high. It didn’t allow him a wide view, and he wasn’t sure where Pharfignewton was. Still looking for grass to eat, he hoped.

He slid to the floor of the cell, huddling underneath the window in a tight ball. His tail was always a source of comfort for him, and he twisted and wrung it in his hands. The sun started to go down, and he imagined how beautiful it would’ve looked from the sweeping grassy hills just outside the cottage.

Beautiful rolling clouds. His cozy bed in the upstairs loft. The sound of Papa tinkering on a machine as a vegetable broth brewed over the stove.

The door slammed against the wall, and the crash startled Pinky out of his fantasies.

It was the monster.

Something inside Pinky snapped. Now he was angry, and angry was a feeling he didn’t like, but this…this cruel excuse of a…whatever he was stole his freedom and his Papa.

“You didn’t let me say goodbye!” Pinky screamed. “Now I’ll never see him…I-I’ll never see him again.”

He expected the monster to roar in defiance or deny the truth, but he did neither. He only leaned heavily against the doorframe in complete silence. His ears dropped, and something akin to remorse flashed across his face.

But that new emotion quickly disappeared. “Come,” the monster said, dropping to all fours. “I’ll show you to your room.”

New room? It was such a sudden offer that Pinky forgot his anger completely. So he wouldn’t have to live among old chains and damp stone?

“I thought-“

The monster arched an eyebrow, a dangerous edge creeping into his voice. “Unless you’d prefer these accommodations?”

Pinky shook his head.

“Then follow.”

His captor crossed the room without pausing, and Pinky realized he’d never asked for a name. If he was going to live here for the rest of his life, he wanted to at least have a name.

“Hold on,” Pinky said. “I never got your name.”

The monster’s hand hit the floor with a resounding thud. “Call me the Beast,” he growled. Pinky stepped back in surprise, but the mon—the Beast didn’t turn around. “And don’t ever ask again.”

There was a tinge of bitterness in his tone, as if he hated his requested name. But that didn’t make sense. Why call himself a name he hated?

“Poit. Well, my name’s Pinky so-“

The Beast was halfway down the stairs already. Pinky folded his arms. Well, that was very rude. His captor didn’t have manners at all!

Pinky hurried after him. The Beast didn’t turn around. He was a very poor conversationalist.

Another candelabra stood just outside the door to the spooky hallway. It hadn’t been there earlier. “You really shouldn’t put your nice decorations on floors. What if someone stepped on them?” Pinky said.

“So we’ve got an interior designer for a long-term guest?” the candelabra asked. “Now we can finally replace the doom and gloom with something different! Maybe an indoor jungle with monkeys!”

The candelabra could talk! That was pretty cool!

His waxy face was eye level with Pinky. His grin was a little lopsided, his candleholders folding against his gold and brown body with an easy, light confidence.

“Yakko, this castle can’t possibly tolerate more monkeys, nor does it require the aesthetic of a jungle to be one,” the Beast huffed. He still sounded irritated, but less so. “And while we’re on that topic, Wakko and Dot need a reminder to not engage with outsiders. Where are they?”

“A real spoilsport, isn’t he?” Yakko whispered to Pinky.

Pinky giggled, and Yakko’s grin became wider. Alright, so not everybody in this big scary castle was a mean ol’ grump. It was good to know.

“Oh, they’re just telling Scratchy the news,” Yakko shrugged. “He’s a real couch potato these days. Anyway, maybe you oughta tie a string around your finger, cause you’re clearly forgetting something.”

He waved a flame like one would wave a finger to scold.

“But I patched the leaking roof,” the Beast said. “My work was thorough.”

Yakko coughed and pointed a flame at Pinky.

The Beast only stared. Then his pink eyes widened as whatever he’d forgotten finally dawned on him.

“Mouse.”

“Where?” Pinky whirled around.

Oh, right. He was a mouse. Silly him.

The Beast growled, like he didn’t know what to think of Pinky. Well, neither did Pinky know what to think of him. So there.

“You owe Yakko for your new room. Let’s go. We’re wasting time.”

With that, the Beast stalked off.

“So…thanks for the room, I think. Poit. Is he always like this?” Pinky asked. He kicked at a speck of dust.

Yakko gave Pinky an encouraging nudge with his candlestick holders. “The Master of the Castle he may be, the Master of First Impressions he is not. If his rawwwwr-fear-me shtick gets to be too much, say the word and I’ll set his cape on fire for ya.”

“Is that a good idea?” Pinky asked. Despite his worries, he couldn’t help but laugh at Yakko’s attempt at roaring.

Yakko nodded, or as much as one could nod when one’s head was a wax candle. “It’s amazing what you can get away with in this place.”

o-o-o-o-o

Pinky was led down to the second floor, into a corridor with the most frightening gargoyles he’d ever seen. But he had to be a good guest, right? Good guests knew the names of every gargoyle, as Yakko was trying to teach him.

He tried so hard to pay attention, but he wouldn’t be able to remember which one was Hugo or Goliath or Laverne or Brooklyn. Yakko didn’t seem like the type to hold it against him though. He talked a lot and knew a lot of things Pinky didn’t know, explaining things like he was used to explaining things.

He seemed awfully young though.

Ahead of them, the Beast lumbered with a heavy gait. His strides were long and lacked the lightness of a rodent’s steps. Though he’d locked Papa up, he seemed more awkward than scary now.

Papa.

Was he home now? Would he be alright? There were chickens to feed and cows to milk. He hoped Papa wouldn’t put his noisy milking machine on Moo-Moo. She didn’t like that.

A tear ran down his cheek, then another. Pinky clutched his tail, staring down at the floor to avoid all the glaring stone eyes on him.

Yakko’s hopping sped up, the brass sounds muffled by the carpet.

There was the smell of slightly singed fur, followed by an irritated grunt. Pinky realized the Beast was watching him from the corner of his eye. A tiny cloud of smoke trailed from his right elbow.

“You can…make yourself at home,” the Beast said, brushing off the tiny fire. “As your new residence, you have free reign of the castle and the surrounding property. You may go anywhere but the West Wing.”

The West Wing?

“What’s in the-“

“IT’S FORBIDDEN!” the Beast bellowed, his massive hand slamming into the carpet and leaving long clawmarks behind. Pinky flinched.

The Beast kept walking. Yakko filled in the silence with chatter.

To Pinky’s relief, his room wasn’t far.

The Beast opened the enormous door, which led to a bedroom that was twice as large as the cottage.

The cottage was home. Not here. Yakko meant well, but this would never truly be Pinky’s room.

“My servants will attend to your needs,” the Beast said. There was nothing harsh about his words this time, but servants? Pinky didn’t know if he could get used to that. Nor had he seen any servants around. Was Yakko a servant? He never asked for his job title.

“Don’t worry! The toilet’s not alive. None of them are,” Yakko added.

It was probably meant to be helpful, so Pinky did his best to smile at him, but he could only manage a weak nod.

Then Pinky noticed the giant bed, with thick comforters and a dozen pillows and velvet curtains around the edges. Though fancy and straight out of a fairy tale, it wasn’t his tiny bed tucked in a cozy corner. Meekly, he stepped inside.

“Psst! Invite him to dinner, Romeo!” Yakko hissed.

“I order you to…join me for dinner,” the Beast demanded. “THAT’S NOT A REQUEST!”

The door slammed, and Pinky was once again left in darkness.

This wasn’t home. It was dark and cold. Homes were cozy and happy and loving. No walls, no prisons, no locks and keys to be thrown away.

Home was elsewhere. His heart was elsewhere.

Pinky curled up on an unfamiliar pillow. His heart was broken, his chest ached, and there was a deep longing within him. For Mama’s laughter. For Papa’s joy. For the hills and the meadows and the open blue skies.

His tears flowed. They were many and endless. He felt they would never stop. He’d cry for the rest of his life, for as long as this exile from the world beyond took.

Outside his window, the first snowflakes began to fall. They marked the start of a very long, very cold winter.

AN: Let it be known that this AU is the only place, besides maybe anything involving Brain Meets Brawn, where Brain’s size can be described as intimidating. I want him to be, you know, like an actual monster and not just a big mouse with horns. Don’t get me wrong, tiny beast!Brain is cute, but that would just be more comical than dramatic if I tried to play it as such a serious moment.

For my personal Beast!Brain, I combined elements from @deez-art and @sleepy-hooves art. Deez for the overall look, and the way he glares at Pinky during the “come into the light” part comes from sleepy-hooves.

In this AU, rather than appearance, Brain fears the loss of control the most. He knows his mind is dwindling away unless he can break the curse. Unlike Disney’s Beast, he’s a bit more proactive with trying to break the curse and tries to keep busy instead of brooding in the West Wing all the time, though some tasks can be very difficult for him.

Yakko is the candelabra, Wakko is the mantle clock, and Dot is the teacup. You’ll have to excuse them for following Pinky around. They’re curious kiddos.

Yakko calling Scratchy a couch potato is literal. Scratchy was turned into a p-sychiatrist’s couch.

No matter what happens, Brain always has a soft spot for the Warners. The Warners aren’t scared of him and will snap back.

Poor Pinky gets put through the wringer. But y’all know the story. Eventually they fall in love and get their happily ever after.

#pinky and the brain #beauty and the beast au #disney au #i'm sorry pinky #patb fanfiction

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scottspack · 4 years ago

Text

SO YOU JUST FINISHED THE UNTAMED AND YOU WANT TO READ SOME FIC

Congratulations Jen @jlf23tumble on finishing The Untamed (tomorrow)! Now that you’re done with the show (tomorrow), you can finally dive into the wide and wonderful world of untamed fic!!! I’m ecstatic to be personally curating your reading experience! LET’S BEGIN!

I’ve started off with a list of 5 fics I think you should read in this specific order to 1. get some resolution from the end of the show and 2. get you acclimated to untamed fics! Then, I’ve listed a bunch of fics in different categories for your perusal to read at your leisure! This is an unbelievably long post holy shit brace yourself.

I’m like fairly certain that all of these follow the tv show canon BUT also its very typical for authors to combine many aspects of all of the different forms of canons to their liking. Therefore, I feel like I need to give a quick explanation of a couple things from the novel that show up frequently in fics that idk if you know already or not:

In the book, when Wei Wuxian is resurrected, he is brought back in Mo Xuanyu’s actual body and has his face and everything. Mo Xuanyu was pretty young when he died, I wanna say maybe 17 or 18??? and he was also short and pretty and flamboyantly gay. This is where the references to their crazy height difference come from, but again, I think I tried to include mostly fics that skew more heavily to the tv version where WWX keeps his same body and he and LWJ are more evenly matched physically.

Its novel canon that LWJ smells like sandalwood incense and has golden colored eyes. This is mentioned in like almost every single wangxian fic ive ever read, even if the author said they were strictly adhering to show canon lol

At the end of the novel wangxian run away together and elope! Obviously in the show that’s not how it goes down, but I think a couple of the fics I’ve recced might mention it in passing. (Oh also when they elope they make a pact to fuck “everyday,” a concept that might be mentioned as well.

Obviously, we have to kick it off with some fics that both reunite wangxian and give more resolution to the actual show. If you’re like me, it both took you a while to get all the way through the show AND took 100% of your brain power to remember all of the characters and plot lines. If that’s that case: these fics should be helpful in serving as a kind of emotional refresher for the show to wrap up some loose ends and to dive deeper into some of the things the show glosses over for one reason or another!

1. A Lot of Edges Called Perhaps by hansbekhart (Wangxian, E, 21k)

The funny part is - and it is a little funny, even if Wei Wuxian has no one left to share the joke with - they never have. Not anything. He has never kissed any part of Lan Zhan besides his slim hands; never been even partially undressed with him anywhere besides a miserable, xuanwu-infested cave. It’s always been like this between them, this simmering need, this desperate understanding: a knowledge so deep that it lives somewhere in his bones, that if he wanted to have Lan Zhan he could have him, and if Lan Zhan wanted Wei Wuxian he could have that too. But they never have.

I found this fic on someone’s blog when they said that it was the definitive fic to read directly after finishing the series so i saved it, read it directly after finishing the series, and felt COMPLETE. Beautifully written, seamlessly fits with canon, and has a super fulfilling resolution. The perfect way to kick off reading untamed fic!

2. One Rogue Spark In My Direction by hansbekhart (Lan Wangji/Xiao Xingchen/Song Lan, E, 5k)

He’d thought, in Yueyang, that they’d seen something in each other, something familiar. That maybe they’d recognized something in him. But it’s been many years, and many things have happened since, and he’s guessed wrongly at other people’s hearts before. Lan Wangji looks back down at the table, at his steaming, bitter tea. He’ll beg if he has to.

In “A Lot Of Edges Called Perhaps” Wangji mentions that he has had sex before and this is the in-universe story of that time and WHEW BABY!!!! AHHHHHH!!! While this fic is like, almost pure smut, I think there is a ton of value to it in terms of emotional perspective on how fucked up LWJ was after WWX’s death. Also, it’s very hot.

3. Gathered Herbs & Sweet Grasses by hansbekhart (Laz Sizhui & Lan Wangji, G, 19k)

Later, when he’s older, it’s this that A-Yuan will remember most: the stretch of silence, the two of them both dirty and shaking with fever, as he looked at Brother Rich, and Brother Rich looked back at him.

This is a fic about Lan Wangji raising Sizhui from when he rescues Sizhui from the Burial Mounds until they bring WWX back to the Cloud Recesses after he’s resurrected. It made me cry about 18 times and I consider it fully canon in relation to the show. I think this gives a lot of emotional depth to the Wangji/Sizhui family relationship that is very important in most fics, so this acts as a good base since the show doesn’t really talk about it too much.

4. Your Name, Safe In Their Mouth by astrolesbian (Lan Sizhui & Wei Wuxian, G, 10k)

“You’ve got a fever,” Wei Wuxian says soothingly. “You just keep still as well as you can. We’ll have you fixed up soon.”

Lan Sizhui recognizes his tone—this is the voice that Wei Wuxian uses on hurt people and young children, a very calm and no-nonsense voice that has none of the mischief and cheer of the way he sounds the rest of the time. Lan Sizhui looks up and meets his eyes, and they are dark, stormy gray, muddled and concerned.

“I’m all right,” he croaks.

“Hush,” Wei Wuxian says, in a low croon, like someone quieting a baby. Then he blinks, and looks away, awkward. “I mean—you shouldn’t speak. You’re tired. Rest if you need to.”

or: lan sizhui gets sick on a night hunt. wei wuxian comforts him. they both have a lot of feelings about it.

The Wei Wuxian and Sizhui bonding fic that I so desperately desperately needed to read. Since we got the emotional depth to Wangji/Sizhui in the last fic, here’s some emotional resolution for Sizhui and his other dad!!!!!!!!!! Scratched the very particular itch of “but have they REALLY talked about what it means that they’re reunited after 16 years???”

5. climbing up that coastal shelf by Sour_Idealist (Jin Ling, Jiang Cheng, & Wei Wuxian, T, 15k)

Jin Ling had begun to suspect years ago that there were parts of his family history that had been crossed out; long streaks of black where Wei Wuxian had been. The truth is more like whole books being brought up from their hiding places again.

Or: Jin Ling tries to figure out what family means, now.

OKAY!!!! Last emotional resolution before I send you on your way to explore! This is the emotional resolution for the other half of WWX’s family. Featuring just a FUCK TON of family feels and a lot of TALKING that this fucked up family needs so damn bad. *chefs kiss* muy delicioso! ALSO i think this is a good introduction to a lot of the naming conventions that are used frequently in untamed fic that took me a while to pick up on!

WHEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now that you’ve gotten some post-show catharsis in the form of a few extremely well-written fics, it’s time for a full rec! I’ve divided it up into seven categories: long fics, smutty one-shots, 3zun (lan xichen/nie mingjue/meng yao) fics, fics about the juniors, family fun fics, some miscellaneous fics, and then some yizhan RPF! I wouldn’t have put any of these fics on here if I didn’t think they were worth reading, BUT! I did mark my particular favorites with asterisks to demark the crème de la crème of the bunch. SO! LET’S DIVE IN!

EPIC TALES (LONG AND/OR IMMERSIVE)

My Age Has Never Made Me Wise by idrilka (Wangxian, E, 63k) ***

“We hear that His Excellency might be married by summer’s end,” the merchant’s wife says and Wei Wuxian freezes, his heart in his throat. “The Gusu Lan sect has been buying enough red silk and brocade that the merchants in Caiyi can’t satisfy the demand.”

He feels himself grow brittle inside, like a flick of a finger to his temple might make him shatter. His ears are ringing.

“Who’s the lucky bride?” he asks despite himself. His tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth.

Or: The story of a marriage.

I LOVE THIS FIC. YOU MUST PROMISE ME YOU’LL READ THIS FIC. The absolute best kind of slow burn and I think such an extremely accurate representation of the canon material. I’m always surprised by the authors in this fandom’s ability to write shit that is so concretely grounded in the universe. This could and should be a real companion novel. Amazing. I love it. (Also I know you said you’re not into fics that are long just to be long and I think this fic is the exact opposite of that, it’s long but for good reason and has such an insanely satisfying payoff that it’s completely worth dedicating a few hours to!)

The Year of Drought by idrilka (Wangxian, E, 24k)

Wei Ying could not be contained by the walls of the Cloud Recesses, alive again and overflowing with it, bursting like a dam in spring with the force of two lives unspent. And so he had to go. Lan Wangji understands that—he understood it when Wei Ying told him of his plans, looking at Lan Wangji above the rim of his cup with an apologetic smile, like craving freedom was something to apologize for.

Wei Ying would go, and Lan Wangji would see him off; this has always been the only way it could be.

Or: In the absence of Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji waits.

The previous fic but from Wangji’s perspective. Absolutely required reading if you read the other one. Wangji baby.......i love you.....

further than the grave by idrilka (Wangxian, E, 32k)

There is something about grief that turns Lan Wangji numb. He cannot be certain if it is not some kind of defect inside him that makes him so. But just as he grieved his mother’s passing with dry eyes and a stone in his chest, so he grieves Wei Ying: quietly, frozen inside, without tears. Beyond the Jingshi window it might be spring, but Lan Wangji’s body and mind are still held within the winter’s grasp.

As the anniversary of his leaving seclusion approaches, Lan Wangji ponders the nature of grief and healing.

One last fic from the same verse as the previous two, this talks about Wangji post-WWX’s death and then them dealing with the past post-marriage. Its just as good and immersive and amazing as the previous two parts, but this is the only untamed fic that actually made me gasp out loud and if you read this and can guess what it was we will be best friends forever. (There are two other fics in this verse that are also good but these three in particular are god-tier in my eyes.)

Vagabond by xantissa (Wangxian, E, 66k)

Wei Wuxian comes back to Cloud Recesses after a year of wandering the world, hoping to start a relationship with Lan Zhan. He doesn’t expect to come into the middle of a case of sleeping sickness mysteriously killing people, nor does he expect what follows, putting everything he holds dear on the line once again.

OOOWEE CASE FIC! CASE FIC! This is truly the twisty turny intense and INTERESTING type of fic from this fandom that blows my mind. This could fully be a stand alone novel its that good and there’s that much to it. Another one that isn’t long just to be long, it has so much PLOT!!!!! REAL GOOD SHIT!

Seldom All They Seem by Fahye (Wangxian, E, 25k)

or, one hundred and thirty-three principles of the Gusu Lan, pertaining to the state of marriage

***

He bows to Wei Wuxian, sword in hand, sleeves falling properly. Wei Wuxian bows in return, and the sect leaders begin the opening courtesies, and for all of ten minutes Lan Wangji is under the impression that he is betrothed to a boy who is perfectly normal and acceptable apart from an unfortunate tendency to fidget with his clothes.

That impression does not last.

A canon-divergent fic exploring “what if Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian were betrothed from when they were young like Yanli and Jin Zixuan?” It’s extremely good and very compelling and also made me cry multiple times. (The confrontation in the rain doesn’t get any easier even if they’re betrothed!)

Half Cloak & Half Dagger by Fahye (Lan Xichen/Meng Yao, E, 13k)

Jin Guangyao lifts his head and smiles. "I'm considering a problem."

"Can I be of any assistance with it?"

He drops a kiss on Lan Xichen's chest. With the nail of one finger he lightly traces the characters for irony on Lan Xichen's side. "Not this one, er-ge."

A follow-up fic set in the “Seldom All They Seem” universe but focused on xiyao. Has hands down the best written characterization of meng yao in any fic ive read so far. I continuously come back to this fic just to read the absolutely genius way this author writes the Head Bitch In Control of the cultivation world.

The Absolutely True Story of the Yiling Patriarch: A Manifesto in Many Parts by aubreyli (Wangxian, T, 20k)

Wei Wuxian’s hand jolts, spilling a drop of wine onto the tabletop. “Love?” he croaks, then clears his throat and tries again. “Lan Zh— uh, Hanguang-jun, in love?”

“Have you not heard the story?” the other young woman asks, looking pitying. “You must, it is a truly heartrending tale of star-crossed romance and mutual pining — go to any storyhouse in town, everyone has been requesting a reading of this book.”

“There’s a book?” Wei Wuxian says blankly.

In which the junior disciples (namely, Lan Jingyi, Ouyang Zizhen, and a reluctant Lan Sizhui) turn to RPF in an attempt to rehabilitate Wei Wuxian's reputation so that he and Hanguang-jun can get together and get married and live happily ever after. It's... surprisingly effective.

I kept avoiding this fic, even though it was really high up on the list of most popular fics in the fandom, bc the premise sounded pretty goofy BUT I finally bit the bullet one day and AHHHHHHHH!!!!! Very very very cute and fun, made me smile like an idiot throughout the entire thing. Heartwarming and very well written!!!

never let me go by yiqie (Wangxian, E, 69k)

Wei Wuxian has certainly hoped so ardently in his two lifetimes, for so many different things, in so many different ways, that he could have summoned the demon to his front door with his bare hands. His eyes wander to Lan Zhan, settle on the back of his head, the blue-black curtain of his hair. Oh, how he has hoped.

Another extremely good and super immersive case fic. If you ever just want to sink really deep into an untamed fic, this is a great one for it.

hunters seeking solid ground by Attila (Wangxian, E, 24k)

“Hanguang-jun,” Wei Wuxian repeats. His heart clenches. He wants—but he’d really meant to have this nightmare stuff down before they met again, so he wouldn’t find himself relying on Lan Wangji’s nearness. He’s not supposed to go back yet. But he’s so tired, and his will crumbles. “Yeah,” he says. “All right. Take me back to Gusu with you.”

You want hurt/comfort? I gotcha hurt/comfort RIGHT HERE!

shadows in the sun rise by Yuu_chi (Wangxian, E, 25k) ***

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji says, voice slow and a pitch too quiet. A second later Wei Wuxian understands why. “I cannot hear.”

Or; Lan Wangji is cursed into internal isolation. Their ability to understand one another remains as unwavering as ever.

OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD. I have been thinking about this fic nonstop since I read it. It is…..fucking incredible. One of the best qualities of wangxian is that they’re so in tune with each other and able to work so cohesively with little communication and this fic is like “what if we take that and DIAL IT UP TO ELEVEN” and i was like AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

I hope that you will come and meet me by feyburner (Wangxian, M, 28k) ***

The second time Lan Zhan said Wei Ying, come back, Wei Wuxian did.

okay so this is literally getting added to the fic rec one day before i send it to you because i just finished it and WHEW BABY!!!!! YES it is just another wangxian post-canon reunion get-together fic, BUT 1. i cant get enough of that specific brand of fic and 2. ITS SO GOOD. ITS. SO. GOOD. achingly tender and incredibly soft but also funny and sweet and very in-character! i love it!

THE BONE ZONE (WANGXIAN SMUT)

Sweet Night by corteae (Wangxian, E, 10k)

It was like coming back to life again, like being restitched into existence, cell by cell, nerve by nerve. From the surface of his skin to the marrow of his bones, everything new and purposeful. Like being pulled back from oblivion into an embrace of pure light. A feeling of absolute asylum.

That’s what it felt like, to realize Lan Wangji was in love with him.

An in-show au of “what if they just admitted they’re in love and fucked during episode 43?” Soft and romantic and hot!

the crucial point by dissembler (Wangxian, E, 7k) ***

Months after parting on the mountain, Lan Wangji makes up his mind, plots his course on a map, and has faith.

I LOVE THIS FIC! Very realistic and sweet wangxian reunion fic from wangji’s perspective. Has so many good little details and is very true to their characters. Good shit. Great.

Stainless by Fahye (Wangxian, E, 6k)

"I'm starting to feel," says Lan Xichen, "that this was a counterproductive suggestion."

Wei Wuxian looks down onto the pristine, tranquil cold springs of the Cloud Recesses. Sitting in the water, their bare shoulders rising like dumplings carefully spaced in a steaming-basket, are a large number of Lan disciples.

"They seem to be doing better," he says, encouragingly. "If they--oh, no, I see what you mean."

At the near bank, someone has pressed someone else against the rocks and is kissing them frantically.

What is getting into a new pairing if not an excuse to read sex pollen in new and exciting ways!

To Recklessly Confess by la_dissonance (Wangxian, E, 8k)

Lan Wangji has a fantasy. Wei Wuxian gets several clues.

The “what if they just fucked in episode 43” au but from a different angle.

all the depths of me, real by northofallmusic (Wangxian, E, 15k)

Wei Wuxian is dealing with a curse a little worse than he'd like to let on, and Lan Zhan is a little less than willing to let it slide.

Another “what if they just fucked in the show” fic, this time set when WWX has the curse on his leg and Wangji has to carry him back to the inn.

Every Day, Learning More by phnelt (Wangxian, E, 6k)

The pink was high on Wei Wuxian’s cheeks. “I mean I haven’t been able to… that I can’t. Not without you.”

Lan Wangji stared. “In this body, the whole time you’ve had it -- you’ve never…”

Wei Wuxian kicked his heels into Lan Wangji’s back. “I just said that!”

I knew at least one of these was more book verse than show! WWX hasn’t been able to jerk off in his new body, LWJ helps him out :-)

the meaning of the ritual by newamsterdam (Wangxian, E, 8k)

“Lan Zhan… wants to bed me?”

The hand on his chest is shaking, slightly. “Mn.”

“Oh,” Wei Wuxian breaths out.

There’s something— something powerful, about that. Lan Wangji wants to bed him. Lan Wangji wants to sleep with him. Lan Wangji wants to touch him, and kiss him. The immovable, implacable Second Master of Lan, with a face and principles both carved from jade, wants him.

“Is this a fantasy of yours?” Wei Wuxian asks. “Forcing all the demonic energy out of me with your—”

Lan Wangji claps a hand over his mouth. “Silence, now.”

When the entire cultivation world turns against the Yiling Patriarch, Wei Wuxian makes a risky gamble— he'll agree to participate in an ancient ritual for cleansing the spirit, so that his character can no longer be called into question. The catch? He has no idea who his partner for the ritual will be.

This is also book-verse! As the tag says “Let Lan Wangji Fuck the Yiling Patriarch”!!!!!!!!!!!

Hurricane by gdgdbaby (Wangxian, E, 6k) ***

"Haven't you heard?" Nie Huaisang replied, clicking his tongue, though he was clearly pleased that he could be the one to break the news. He leaned in to announce with a dramatic flourish: "Lan Wangji just took emergency family leave this past weekend."

WANGXIAN AS SPIRK STAR TREK PON FAR AU!!!!!!!!!!!!! WEEWOO WEEWOO WEEWOO!!!!!!!! This was actually recced to ME by CHI and I have not stopped thinking about this fic for a full month. It’s like author gdgdbaby sat down one day and was like “Tumblr user Liv Scottspack deserves everything she wants in this life.” and then wrote this fic. Thank you author gdgdbaby, I love you.

WORLD’S WORST THROUPLE (3ZUN)

The body is a blade by rheawrites (3zun, E, 2k) ***

In which Lan Xichen is taken by surprise, Nie Mingjue takes what he can get, and Meng Yao gets what he wants.

This was the first 3zun fic I ever read and whew baby, got it in one! It’s actually a slight AU but it gets their characterization so right and is a very fun read. One of those fics I go back to frequently because it does so much with so few words.

shang tiantang by fuckwarlock (3zun, E, 4k)

They wanted so much, and with the way A-Yao gasps at the saber-calloused hand unfastening his belts, he does, too. The night air twirls with the scents of osmanthus and cinnamon and melon. Lan Xichen smiles, leans in, and ghosts his lips over the crook of A-Yao’s neck. What kind of brother would he be if he didn’t give A-Yao what he wanted? “I think it’s your turn to ascend, A-Yao.”

The Venerated Triad celebrates the Mid-Autumn Festival the best way they know how.

Truly the only way the venerated triad works is if meng yao gets Destroyed :-)

Favour and Fate by soulgusttheguardian (3zun, E, 8k)

There have been times in Meng Yao’s life when he couldn’t help but wonder how he came to be in his current situation. Found himself reflecting on the choices leading up to whatever misfortune had befallen him that day, and pondering why fate hated him so.

Granted, there had also been times when he couldn't help but wonder just what he had done to earn the favour necessary to be rewarded with certain things...

The current situation he found himself to be in, however, was definitely the latter.

More of the same! Truly I personally can never get enough of the 3zun dynamic in smut fics its just too goddamn motherfucking GOOD!!!!!!!!!!!!

the stars do not take sides by everyearning (3zun, E, 4k)

Mingjue isn’t sure he’s ever seen Xichen do anything other than treat the boy like a porcelain doll and it’s laughable to him, to think of Meng Yao as something breakable, instead of the sharp, deadly object he is.

Okay one last “Destroy Meng Yao” 3zun fic! Enjoy!

never as alive as we are right now by ThirtySixSaveFiles (3zun, E, 12k)

Three perspectives on three sworn brothers, at three different times in their relationship.

(Or, three times 3zun got it on and some of the feelings they had along the way.)

Wait actually I want to end the 3zun fics on this one because it has true Emotional Resolution at the end and I think they deserve a little healing.

BABY BOYS. BABIES. (THE JUNIORS)

A Civil Combpaign by Ariaste (Jin Ling/Lan Sizhui, T, 20k) ***

“And,” said one of the pompous ministers, “there’s the matter of a marriage to consider as well!”

Jin Ling, who at the beginning of that sentence had expected to slam into the very last wall of his patience and lose his temper entirely, paused. “A what?”

Thing was… it wasn’t such a bad idea.

A MUST-FUCKING-READ!!! Jin Ling gets it in his head that as sect leader he should get married and sets his sights on Lan Sizhui. I cannot stress enough how FUCKING CUTE this fic is!!! Sizhui being the best boy! Jin Ling having more uncles than he knows what to do with! Jiang Cheng being the worst at relationship advice! It’s so fucking good it love it so much.

Anyway, Here’s Wuji by kakikaeru (Lan Jingyi/Lan Sizhui, T, 18k)

The melody gets a little clearer when he breaks out of the trees, and Jingyi changes course with certainty, barreling down the back hill and through the Cloud Recesses, dodging scandalized disciples left and right. He throws open the doors to the Receiving Hall without announcement and bows nearly double, eyes on the floor instead of on the shocked faces of the Mei delegation and the impenetrable gaze of the Chief Cultivator.

"Forgive this disciple," Jingyi shouts, because he's going to get punished for rule breaking regardless. "From the back hill, Hanguang-jun, there is a song in the wind!"

Lan Jingyi comes of age.

A Jingyi-central fic about Jingyi growing up and falling in love and being a hero and being the second best boy of my heart right after Sizhui. Not only is this fic sweet and romantic but it’s another one that explores a lot of interesting things within canon and all of the supporting characters are written very well and are just as interesting as second best boy Jingyi.

Ok, JiuJiu by kakikaeru (Jin Ling/Ouyang Zizhen, T, 16k)

Uncle's jaw works in the way that suggests he's about to say something irredeemable. Jin Ling, in a move of diplomacy he hopes the Chief Cultivator appreciates, distracts him with spicy food and his favourite subject: the incompetence of his own officials.

"I hear the lakes in the south east are having drainage problems?" he asks nonchalantly, sticking three big slices of braised pork belly into his Uncle's bowl.

Jin Ling just wants to get through the Discussion Conference with his Sect, his dignity, and his heart intact.

A follow up fic to “Anyways, Here’s Wuji.” I LOVE the Jin Ling/Ouyang Zizhen dynamic of Jin Ling having been raised by Jiang “I keep all my emotions right here and then one day I’ll die” Cheng AND being hopelessly charmed and smitten with Ouyang “President of the I Love Love Romance Novel Book Club” Zizhen! I LOVE IT! EXTREMELY CUTE!

Lan Sizhui's Guide to Courtship by Kimblydot (Lan Sizhui/Lan Jingyi, T, 23k)

In which Jingyi is a little oblivious, Sizhui is patient (and should have said something in the beginning), and everyone else is resigned to watching them dance around each other for far longer than necessary.

(Or: five things Sizhui tries to do in his courtship, and the one time Jingyi realizes there was one happening in the first place.)

I’ll stop describing fics about the juniors as being “cute” when they stop being SO FUCKING CUUUUUUUUUUTTTTTTTEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!

His Merit All My Fear by violettressed (Lan Sizhui/Lan Jingyi, G, 16k)

It’s too late for any of Hanguang-Jun’s rabbits to be awake -- one of the sundown chores for young disciples is to herd them back into their hutch -- but the rabbit field is as good a spot as any for quality sulking, so Lan Jingyi makes his way there.

Someone has beat him to it.

Lan Jingyi stares at Hanguang-Jun. Hanguang-Jun stares passively back.

When Lan Sizhui is swept away with the Ghost General, off on a new adventure, Lan Jingyi is the one who returns to Cloud Recesses alone.

Not only another extremely cute Sizhui/Jingyi fic BUT one that includes a Wangji/Jingyi friendship??? Incroyable! *chefs kiss*

spirit running wild by idrilka (Lan Sizhui/Lan Jingyi, E, 17k)

He doesn’t know, exactly, when the friendship he shared with Sizhui over the years has changed into something that’s made Jingyi finally understand why Hanguang-Jun always wears that expression whenever he looks at Senior Wei. There hasn’t been one single moment that he can point to and say, yes, this is where it started, because the thing about falling in love with your best friend is that it happens gradually, until it’s impossible to tell which step has been the deciding one.

Jingyi goes to Baling with a crush.

Written by the same genius that wrote the first three fics I made you read so you know it’s good. Its truly the childhood best friends to lovers of it all! Sizhui is adorable and Jingyi is a mess! *muah!*

FAMILY FUN TIME (NO ROMANCE, JUST FEELS)

Grow by cafecliche (Lan Sizhui & Wei Wuxian, T, 14k)

“Okay,” Jingyi says, as Sizhui puzzles this out aloud. “Okay! So the demon has been turning its victims into children.”

“I think so,” Sizhui says.

“To make them easier prey,” Jingyi says.

“Yes,” Sizhui says.

“So—” Jingyi’s voice cracks here, “this kid is Senior Wei.”

Wei Wuxian, still tangled in his own massive robes, blinks politely at them.

(Or: Wei Wuxian is cursed on a night-hunt, and the junior quartet rapidly finds themselves in over their heads.)

What I expected to be a goofy, silly fic turned out to be extremely emotional and made me FULLY CRY! It’s a very moving fic about Sizhui coming to understand himself and Wei Wuxian a lot better AND features all of the juniors arguing over who’s turn it is to hold 6 year old Wei Wuxian. A true win/win of a fic.

To The Act of Making Noise by words-writ-in-starlight (Lan Sizhui & Lan Wangji, G, 19k)

His father in white plays the song late into the night, and when A-Yuan wakes up confused and afraid, the guqin lulls him back to sleep.

Lan Sizhui hears his father play the same song every night for his whole life, and never, ever get an answer.

Another very moving and heartwarming fic about Lan Wangji raising Sizhui and Sizhui figuring out Wangji’s past and then eventually reconnecting with Wei Wuxian. It’s cute and soft and Sizhui is my best boy!

History (Proud To Call Your Own) by words-writ-in-starlight (Wen Ning, G, 5k)

“A-Yuan? Um—Lan-gongzi,” Wen Ning corrects, trying to set a good example. The children are young, seven and eight, exactly a dozen of them lined up in two crisp lines of tiny blue and white robes. Wen Ning can feel them staring at him, even though most of them have already mastered that Lan trick of neutrality. The smallest, a little girl with liquid dark eyes, is clinging to her nearest shijie’s sleeve and half-hiding. “Can I—what can I do for you?”

Wen Ning gets himself recruited for services, while he and Sizhui are visiting Cloud Recesses. Wei Wuxian gets a fan club.

Set in the same universe as “To The Act of Making Noise,” a very cute fic about Wen Ning finding his place in the post-canon world and being proud of Sizhui and being the world’s best substitute teacher. As the official Wen Ning Fan Club President, I had to include this.

the stone-filled sea by yukla (Lan Sizhui & Wei Wuxian, T, 9k) ***

He forgets how quickly Wei-qianbei changes faces, sometimes. Like pulling a theater mask over a bruise—color over color, a diversion with the swipe of his hand.

Lan Sizhui navigates a world that hates his father, one endless wave at a time.

Oh man oh man. I will never get enough of the fics where Sizhui (and the rest of the juniors) get ANGRY on Wei Wuxian’s behalf!! That’s their dad and their teacher and their friend and they will DEFEND HIM!!! YEAH BAYBEEEEEEEEEE!!!

PICK & MIX (MISCELLANEOUS)

This Side of Paradise by greenfionn (Wei Wuxian/Wen Qing, E, 3k)

Wei Wuxian does some very quick math in his head that goes something like this: He is pretty sure he’s in love with Lan Zhan - Lan Zhan is not here and likely never will be here - Wen Qing is here, not to mention very hot and let us not forget, actually interested in sex with him - there’s a solid chance he goes genuinely crazy or dies, or both, in the next few months and really, who wants to die a virgin?

Listen.......the fic premise is “Wei Wuxian and Wen Qing, noted bisexuals, figure life sucks enough at the Burial Mounds, they might as well have any fun they can before they die” and........I Am Looking Directly At It. It features Wen Qing bossing Wei Wuxian around and Wei Wuxian’s canon he-wants-to-be-pregnant kink. It’s........I liked it.

palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss by iodhadh (Song Lan/Xiao Xingchen, M, 15k) ***

The realization strikes Song Lan like a bolt of lightning: Xiao Xingchen laughs, and he wants with a sudden, stunning desperation to kiss the mirth from his beautiful mouth. How, precisely, he is meant to manage that—that, he has no idea at all.

Or: introspective meditations on touch, trust, and the problem of desire.

I Am Baby and for some reason cannot handle how sad the entire Song Lan/Xiao Xingchen storyline ended up so I rarely read songchen fics, and when I do they’re always soft pre-canon fics like this one. Luckily there are some very beautiful and moving pre-canon songchen fics!!! I love you fandom!!

purpose and ritual by iodhadh (Song Lan/Xiao Xingchen, E, 8k)

Song Zichen has beautiful hands. He's a powerful swordsman, strong and skilled, unfairly impressive and unreasonably handsome. He is devoted and self-disciplined and he takes direction like a dream. And he doesn't touch people—no one at all, if he can help it, except for Xiao Xingchen.

The poets might call him a saint, but Xiao Xingchen is so very, very human.

More of the same :-)

born to sweet delight by la_dissonance (Song Lan/Xiao Xingchen, E, 10k)

Xiao Xingchen lightly jumps into the center of the pool, the water a shock that cools his sticky, heated skin, and does nothing for the heat building inside him. When he surfaces, pushing the hair out of his face, he finds Song Lan's gaze and meets it. Between them, everything goes both ways. What Song Lan will offer, Xiao Xingchen will freely give too.

Or, Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan meet, pledge their lives to each other, and then fall in love.

This is about the angstiest I will go for songchen and its still absolutely Baby Soft lmfao!!!!!!

Pin it down by rheawrites (Jiang Yanli/Jin Zixuan, Jin Zixuan/Nie Mingjue, E, 2k)

“Yanli, I did not lie on our wedding night. You are the only woman I have gone to bed with. But… there was a man.”

“Oh?” Yanli blinks up at him. She does not appear horrified, or betrayed, which is surely a good sign.

Jin Zixuan swallows. “It was Sect Leader Nie,” he says quickly, as though that will make it easier.

“…Oh,” says Yanli, and her eyes are dark.

Jin Zixuan tells his wife a war story. Or, two thousand words of Jin Zixuan getting railed.

Have you ever looked at Jin Zixuan and been like “I bet that mf likes getting PEGGED!!!!!!!!” Well here’s the fic for you.

*YIBO VOICE* DIDI LOVES YOU! (YIZHAN RPF)

never really over by gdgdbaby (Yizhan, E, 10k)

The thing is: it would be good to see Xiao Zhan again — if Yibo could just trust himself to be normal.

Author gdgdbaby is the yizhan master, so here are five of my personal favorites of their fics, starting with this post-filming reunion fic that was the first yizhan fic I ever read and HIT real good after having just finished the show myself.

pedagogy by gdgdbaby (Yizhan, E, 17k) ***

Yibo opens his mouth and says, "I want to learn," barreling past the rapid rise of Xiao Zhan's eyebrows. "To last longer. Will you teach me?"

Quick-fire Yibo comes too easily and Xiao Zhan helps train him to last longer :-)

you’re the reason that i just can’t concentrate by gdgdbaby (Yizhan, E, 10k)

Xiao Zhan hears about it from Yu Bin, which probably should've been the first warning sign.

Yibo was only 20 when they filmed the untamed, which lends itself perfectly to fics like this.

a truth so loud you can’t ignore by gdgdbaby (Yizhan, E, 5k)

It's their last day of filming in Hengdian when the secret comes out.

If yibo has to be a fictional virgin than SO DOES XIAO ZHAN!

if you would only let you by gdgdbaby (Yizhan, E, 32k) ***

"Well?" Yibo demands. Past the severe frown tugging at the corners of his mouth, a flicker of the old him slips through, the persistent boy who shoved his way into Xiao Zhan's space without a second thought and made a home for himself there. "Are you coming or not?"

Xiao Zhan's heart twists. He forcibly settles it back in his chest. He's only told Yibo no once in his entire life, and it was already the hardest thing he's ever had to do. "Okay," Xiao Zhan murmurs, quiet but decisive, and thumbs his phone off. "Let's go."

Like I said, all gdgdbaby fics are incredibly good, super well written, and very hot, but this one does stand out from the bunch for being a Full Epic Romance! This is one of Chi’s favorite fics so that should speak to it’s quality!

baby, who’s counting by nobirdstofly (Yizhan, E, 12k)

Xiao Zhan gasps, trying to rein in another peal of giggles. “What do I owe you anyway?”

Yibo shrugs one shoulder, and his smirk deepens. “Haven’t decided.”

Xiao Zhan’s still staring at him, laughter gone in his dry throat, when he hears someone yell for a reset. Yibo’s eyes are so, so dark, and he hasn’t stopped watching Xiao Zhan this whole time. Xiao Zhan swallows, nods, and pushes every dirty thought out of his head.

(Or: Yibo bets Xiao Zhan he'll break first during a take, Xiao Zhan loses, and it's all downhill from there.)

Ah sex bets, who doesn’t love sex bets!

Mystery Dance by mrsronweasley (Yizhan, E, 16k)

"That? That's your confession?" Yibo's toppled onto Xiao Zhan's side and is clutching his shoulder, trying not to fall over. "That's pathetic!"

"Oh, what, you can do better?" Zhuocheng is pretty flushed and there's a challenge in his voice that Yibo just can't walk away from.

"Hell yeah, I can. Hit me, Yu Bin." Yu Bin cheers and refills Yibo's shot glass. "All right!" Yibo downs the shot, gags only slightly, and says, "Everyone! I'm a fucking virgin!"

WHAT’S better than a Yibo virgin fic? A SECOND YIBO VIRGIN FIC!

This author also writes extremely good yizhan threesomes so here’s three of them!

Some Nights by mrsronweasley (Yizhan/Xuan Lu (Jiang Yanli), E, 2k)

Xuan Lu opened her legs to him and Xiao Zhan wasted no time diving in. He pressed his mouth against her pussy, licking her out steadily as her thighs trembled around him. She was nestled between Yibo's legs and if Xiao Zhan looked up, not only could he see the planes of her body, her small breasts going up and down with her breathing, ribs expanding, her tipped back head and open mouth, but Yibo, gaze boring into Xiao Zhan's as he ate Xuan Lu out.

The entire cast is hot and there is no reason they shouldn’t ALL fuck! Not one reason!!!!!!

gege loves you by mrsronweasley (Yizhan/Wang Zhuocheng (Jiang Cheng)), E, 7k)

"We are very sorry," Xiao Zhan murmured as he unbuttoned Zhuocheng's jeans while Yibo kissed his ear, "for how we've been acting."

"Is this how you apologize to everyone," Zhuocheng panted, hands already going for his zipper to help Xiao Zhan along, "or am I special?"

WHEW LORD!!!!!!!!! WHEW!!!!!!!

Talking in the Dark by mrsronweasley (Yizhan (Side Xiao Zhan/M/F), E, 14k)

Xiao Zhan has a light-hearted romp of a threeway with some friends, then makes the mistake of telling Yibo. It goes down.

A non-yizhan threesome BUT features jealous!yibo which is a ton of fun.

Finally, a couple AUs!

With Joy and Purpose by feenwitch (Yizhan, E, 30k) ***

Yibo has been alone for approximately five Earth years when Xiao Zhan crash lands on his planet.

YIZHAN ANDROID AU!!!!!!!! This is a very star trek-esque universe which is fun, but the fic itself is also CRAZY interesting and moving and beautiful!!!!!!!!! It’s A LOT! This was a rec from Nina, so thank you Nina!

Bound With a Same-Heart Knot by mrsronweasley (Yizhan, E, 59k)

London, 1892. Xiao Zhan, a promising young attache at the Chinese embassy is tasked with showing the new ambassador's son Wang Yibo around London. The inevitable happens.

Victorian AU! I actually think you already read this, but included for posterity.

AND SCENE! This is the result of two months of daily fic reading, having 50 tabs of fic open at any given time, reading truly anything and everything, and Loving The Untamed. I’m SO EXCITED you’re diving into fic for this show and I can’t wait to talk to you about all of them and to have someone to scream with! WOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!

#the untamed #fic #the untamed fic rec #holy gosh diddly darn moly #this is long as hell and has approximately 950k words of fic in it #my magnum opus!!!!#what's even more wild is that this literally doesnt even scratch the surface #i am constantly reading more #from the time i started putting this rec together until now #i added two new fics that i read and thought were amazing #there is no dearth of good shit to read in this fandom #ANYWAYS congrats on finishing (tomorrow)!#i cant wait to talk fic!#i hope you enjoy this list!#sorry it is genuinely absurdly long!

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popcornanon · 4 years ago

Text

Metal, Part 1

A/N: the backstory to my ‘Glass’ story, also I never know what to title my writings lol

Warnings: blood, gore, physical and sexual assault

BAU Team x Reader

Hotch x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Hotch, Morgan and you were crammed into the booth with the best vantage point of the bar. This bar, The Black Cat, was one of the three bars young brunette women disappeared from, only to be later found brutally beaten, sexually assaulted and wrists slit. The bar was packed tight with college students fresh from a university football game. Reid had, of course, decided to stay back at the precinct since bars weren’t really his ‘scene’. He felt he was more helpful going over the files and narrowing down the profile with Rossi.

Morgan’s eyes were trained on the front entrance of the bar as he took a sip of his ginger ale. Hotch’s eyes moved through the room like he was reading a page in a book. His hand fidgeted with his glass.

The bar seemed to become hot and humid with all the sweaty bodies constantly moving around. You scooted out of the booth and told the guys you were going out for some air. You had also wanted to check out the taxi situation to see if the drivers had noticed anything out of the ordinary.

“I’ll come with you.” Hotch yelled slightly over the music.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll be right back.” You yelled back. Hotch saw the look on your face and read that you’d rather go alone for some quiet and fresh air. He settled back into his seat.

You made your way pushing through the crowd towards JJ and Emily. You quickly informed them of your plan as you kept pushing to the door before they could argue. Finally once you were outside, you positioned yourself under the awning of the bar off to the side. The cool air felt wonderful on your skin as you breathed in the night. The rain was a sprinkle now and several taxi cabs lined the street waiting for potential customers. You looked at your phone to see the time. It was just after 2:00 am. You were hoping last call would be soon and Hotch would allow the team to return to the hotel for a few hours of rest. You shifted on your feet as you regretted not packing your more comfortable shoes. The new shoes had started to ache the soles of your feet and you were dying to kick them off and crawl into your mediocre hotel bed.

You decided to pace the front of the outside of the bar. You tried to determine different vantage points the unsub may have used. As you get closer to the alley to the left of the bar, an arm reached out and wraps around your neck. You knew what this was and you refused to go down without a fight. The attacker pulled you into the darkness. Derek has always described you as small but feisty and you were going to show this unsub just how feisty you could be. His hand now covered your mouth to keep you from yelling out and alerting close by-standers. As the man struggled for something in his pocket, you placed your left foot behind his and twisted to break out of the hold. You broke free but he grabbed your shirt and yanked you back into the alley. You tried for your gun but suddenly a foul smelling cloth covered your mouth. The unsub held you hard against a dumpster. You felt your body begin to weaken despite of your protests. But you didn’t lose consciousness, just lost control of your own body. You leaned on the man as he held you up. Carefully, he unholstered your gun and gently placed it on the alley floor. Your vision began to blur at the edges and the lights blared brightly. You shoved your phone into your pants as best as you could. The man wrapped your arm around his neck as he half carried you to the line of taxis. After deciding on the taxi farthest from the bar door, he smoothly slid you into the backseat of the cab behind the driver. The attacker began casually talking to the driver.

“Whew, what a night! Think my wife drank a bit too much.” He said as he closed the car door. “She’s a bit of a lightweight, if you know what I mean.”

The driver chuckled and the unsub gave an address you heard but couldn’t decipher. A phone rang out and for a second you thought it was yours but the attacker answered his own. While he was distracted, you shoved your own phone down a crevice of the taxi seat. You desperately hope someone would find it. You began to fade in and out, hearing only bits and pieces of the unsub’s conversation.

“Yeah, I can get you the paperwork…sorry babe…got to stop at work for some things. Hey buddy, change of address.”

The rest of the ride was a dizzying fight to stay awake. The cab soon stopped outside a dark warehouse with one dim lightbulb lighting the entrance.

“You want me to wait?” The driver asked.

“Nah, I’ll be awhile. Come on, honey.” He said supporting you and paying the taxi in cash.

The taxi drove off and as soon as you were forced through the door, a powerful punch landed square in your face and you were on the ground. Before you could even register the pain from the blow and the now blood seeping from you nose, you were being dragged through a hallway, down a stairwell, and into a basement. Momentarily you were on your feet only to be pushed down again onto a cold concrete floor. The man began kicking you in the abdomen. The pain was close to blinding now.

“FBI…huh…not that impressive.” He commented as he circled his prey. “You’ve been gone, what, 20 minutes. Have they even noticed you’re gone?” He landed another kick to your side, this one just as powerful as the others. You began to cough violently.

“How about some music?” Raging heavy metal boomed through the empty basement. Your head rang from what was bound to be a concussion now from all the hits.

He turned you on your back and for the first time you saw your attacker’s face. His eyes were steely blue yet dark with perversion. He straddled you and carried out several more punches to your face and jaw. Red filled your sight and you choked on the blood that rose in your throat. He leaned down to your ear and whispered with his hot breath.

“How about we have some fun before your friends show up?” And the unmistakable sound of a belt unbuckling echoed as a pause in songs happened.

~ ~ ~

Back at the bar, last call had been called ten minutes ago and there was no sign of you. The team gathered outside of the entrance of the bar.

“I’ve called several times.” JJ said as she hung up her phone. “What if she went back to the precinct?”

“Without telling us?” Morgan stated the obvious.

“No, Reid said she wasn’t there.” Prentiss hung up her own phone.

“I’m calling her again.” JJ shook her head and pressed dial once more.

A balding heavy set men grunted as he got out of his cab to dig in the back of his car. He held up a ringing familiar phone and before JJ could say anything, Hotch was springing over to the taxi. The team following his steps.

“Was that in your passenger seat?” Hotch questioned.

“Uh, yeah think that couple must have left it.”

“What couple?”

“A man and his lady…lady was pretty much out of it. Said she drank too much.”

“Did she look like this?” Emily pulled up a picture of the team at the annual triathlon on her phone. She pointed to your zoomed in smiling picture.

“Yeah, that’s her…ah don’t tell me that was her ex?” The driver asked.

“No, much worse.” Derek mumbled.

“Where did you take them?” Hotch said trying to maintain his voice.

“A warehouse. The guy said it was his office.”

“We need that address now.” Hotch got his phone out and called Reid. “Reid, we need SWAT and police at this address. We’ll most likely will need EMS too. He has (Y/N).”

~ ~ ~

It was becoming increasingly hard to breathe as you gasped. He was still on top of you. But now he had a knife out and was lightly dragging it across your stomach. Your chest ached, you could tell your ribs were bruised or broken from fighting him.

“Now, for the final performance…my favorite.” He announced.

He plunged the knife into your lower abdomen as you gasped and coughed. Your body was close to being paralyzed from the pain. He continued stabbing at random places on your torso.

“The piece de resistance!” You could feel the blade drive down your forearm on both wrists, one at a time. He was finishing his MO: slit wrists.

Th CD was now finished with its songs and the faint echoing of sirens filled the musty air. The unsub whipped his head to look in a darkened corner where a shadow moved and the creaking of a door hinge originated.

“Well, funs over now. Ta-ta!” And with that you were left alone.

Your hands and legs began to numb and you struggled to breathe through the blood. Your vision was blurred with crimson. Suddenly, a familiar face peered down into yours. More faded into view. Then mouths moved but the sound was slurred and slow, almost echoing through empty space but unintelligible. Pressure built on your stomach and arms. Your eyes were open, barely processing the chaos surrounding you. Everything went white and suddenly you were in the back of a tall vehicle watching orange lights reflect off objects. A mask covered your mouth and nose but did little to improve your breathing. Your eyes wandered to your side where a grimace of a face was. His umber eyes on yours and you thought to yourself: I don’t have shoes on…when did I take my shoes off?

You attempted to sit up but immense pain and pressure forced you down. The pressure coming from the hands of the umber eyed face. You stared confusingly at the face. It said something but you didn’t understand the words. They were muffled and far away. Your eyes wandered again to your bloodied bandaged left hand and saw the face’s hand in yours. This seemed to confuse you more. You raised your free hand to the hissing mask and removed it as you tried to free yourself from the cords. You began to cry as more hands pushed you gently but forcibly down. You were so tired and weak and confused. A hand reached to your arm and your eyes fluttered closed and all was quiet and still.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner #spencer reid #emily prentiss #jj #jennifer jareau #derek morgan #papa rossi #dave rossi #penelope garcia #hotch x reader #bau x reader #glass backstory

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hamliet · 6 years ago

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Hi there~ I was just wondering, how do you feel about Nie Huaisang? ☺️

He is my son. I call him Sneaky McSneakerson.

No, but really, he is a fantastic character. Almost every character in the entire story is not what they initially appear to be (Xue Yang disguises himself as Xiao XingChen, Wei WuXian is in Mo XuanYu’s body, Lan WangJi represses his emotions but is actually willing to do anything for someone he loves, Jiang Cheng seems like he is always making selfish choices and we find out in the end that he loves Wei WuXian just as much as he loves him, and those are just the more blatant examples).

Nie HuaiSang is introduced to us as “the Head Shaker,” the guy who might as well be running his sect into the ground because he’s supposedly incompetent, and the flashbacks do nothing to change this opinion. But despite his “I don’t know, I don’t know, I really don’t know!” mantra, he actually… knows way more than anyone else. (I think you stated as much in one of your metas!)

Nie HuaiSang truly loved his brother, no matter how unyielding and demanding Nie MingJue was. His pleading with his brother to recognize him when he’s dying was heartbreaking. Because that was what he wanted all along: his brother to see him as he was. He didn’t want to be a soldier and a skilled saber-wielder. He just wanted to do calligraphy and decorate fans. Nie MingJue never saw him that way, though (though I think Nie MingJue clearly adored him–their relationship strikes me as a pretty strong parallel to say Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling’s, wherein the older brother/uncle is a tsundere). He kept trying to make him into a stronger warrior, and in the end when he’s dying, he only sees dozens of Jin GuangYao’s around him.

See, Nie HuaiSang is a strong foil for Jin GuangYao as well. Both of them are, well, the younger brothers of Nie MingJue, the man with the biggest dick energy in the world who still died a virgin, and Nie MingJue’s increasing harshness with Nie HuaiSang paralleled his increasing frustration with Jin GuangYao. Nie MingJue’s biggest problem was his strictness. He’s what Lan WangJi is seen as at first: righteous to the extreme, truly so, but lacking in empathy and refusing to understand that, as Jin GuangYao says, not everyone comes from the same place in life, and even if they do, they aren’t necessarily going to turn out the same. And for the record I actually love Nie MingJue’s character, but his… stubbornness and refusal to grant Jin GuangYao any sort of forgiveness, his stern way of trying to make him earn forgiveness, directly led to his death. Nie HuaiSang still loved Nie MingJue no matter what, though, but by his refusals that led to his death, he contributed to the path that HuaiSang will choose to walk on, and it’s pretty similar to Jin GuangYao’s path.

Both HuaiSang and JGY are excellent at reading people and exploiting their strengths and weaknesses. Nie HuaiSang understands that Jin GuangYao is his own worst enemy. He knows he is not a match for him in terms of talent or likeability, so he brings back Wei WuXian to do his fighting for him, and HuaiSang uses Jin GuangYao’s better moments–his best relationships–to ruin him, but he can only do so because Jin GuangYao’s own insecurities have already ruined many of them and they’re supported by lies only at this point.

First, Mo XuanYu, whom Jin GuangYao was kind to and then Mo XuanYu fell for because the kid needed someone to help him. HuaiSang and Jin GuangYao are the ones who gave Mo XuanYu the information he needed to kill himself and summon Wei WuXian. Like… that is very dark.

Qin Su, the wife Jin GuangYao probably did love and expressed gratitude towards for never looking down at him for his mother’s status, the woman he refused to sleep with again once he found out who she was yet made a point to treat with the utmost respect–HuaiSang exposes how Jin GuangYao did not ultimately respect her enough to tell her the truth.

Jin GuangYao spares Sisi, and HuaiSang frees her, taking advantage of JGY’s care for her and also being kind himself, but it’s still for a purpose.

HuaiSang poisons the coffin in the temple Jin GuangYao built over his mother’s brothel, the temple he had his mother’s icon erected in.

HuaiSang uses Lan XiChen to kill Jin GuangYao, having a sworn brother kill another sworn brother who killed a sworn brother who was his brother (whew). The one person Jin GuangYao never thought of hurting, the person whom Jin GuangYao trusted and loved (like HuaiSang trusted and loved GuangYao), is tricked into killing him (whiiich is also a parallel to Xue Yang tricking Xiao XingChen into killing Song Lan).

In other words, HuaiSang uses Jin GuangYao’s best relationships to poison him, just like how Nie MingJue’s best relationship–as a big brother–was what led to his downfall. But that’s really a very simplified way of reading it, and it isn’t the fill truth. In HuaiSang’s actions more so than Jin GuangYao’s (but still a bit in Jin GuangYao’s) we have to ask what on earth justice even is. Is it revenge? Is it an eye for an eye? HuaiSang’s actions are certainly understandable–he’s a grieving brother in over his head who has no one to turn to, so he’ll play from behind the scenes because he’s so used to being underestimated. Unlike Jin GuangYao, though, it doesn’t seem like HuaiSang will walk a self-destructive path once justice is served, but we really don’t know.

In Xue Yang, Jin GuangYao, and Nie HuaiSang, we also see characters who attempt to force others to feel what they feel. An eye for an eye, to an extent, but also it’s a way of forcing empathy/trying to feel less alone. But there is a bit of progress in each of them, showing the slow progress of society. Xue Yang kills people for just belonging to a family. Jin GuangYao kills people who threaten him. Nie HuaiSang kills Jin GuangYao and a few people to get to that endeavor, and he’s still alive at the end–and notably, no one wants revenge on him (not that most people even know what he’s done). He also is motivated by care for others more than by trying to protect himself and his pride, unlike the other two. So I think he’ll be fine post-canon, hopefully make his brother proud. But he’s still a sneaky mastermind.

#ask hamliet #mdzs meta #mdzs #nie huaisang #nie mingjue #jin guangyao #xue yang #thisworldgodonlyknows #sneaky mcsneakerson

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ts-2020-olympics · 5 years ago

Text

EPISODE 2 - “Landen’s Going Home” - Emma

youtube

Billy's back! If we lose I am screwed heavily, though I do think there's a chance. Slide puzzles aren't my thing, so hoping for the best out of this.

Kathy, I'm voting for you. Bailey had a good excuse for not doing the challenge, and I haven't heard anything from you, whatsoever. Hate to say it, but your ass is grass, pal.

i'm gonna be a lazy bitch and do a written confessional this round bc i look too ugly for a video. so, basically after the events that transpired last round, jordan came begging at my feet for my forgiveness after lying to me about the vote. he doesn't realize that i knew what he was doing before the fact thanks to sammy, so i just played along and acted like i didn't know and told him that i understood his perspective and understand him lying to me. but believe me, a bitch never forgets being lied to. like, if he can so easily lie to me this early in the game, how am i supposed to trust him going forward? i guess it doesn't really matter because he's he easy boot if we happen to lose again before a swap. but i think i did a good job of making him feel like i wasn't mad so that he will trust me in the event of a swap or if we lose again he won't vote me. also, i'm pretty confident that both sammy and caeleb consider me their closest ally. they both tell me about their findings in the village so i'm getting two people per round telling me where not to go, so that's super helpful. i could see the three of us going far but i'm sure that the two of them will go for each other eventually, especially if they are both competing to have me be their number one. i'm fine with it tbh. sammy also got a vote block from the village. so now he has an idol that lasts for two more tribals, and a vote block lasting for one more tribal. so definitely think sammy is of more use to me at the moment especially since he has all of these advantages. my tribe won immunity this round which is nice. i'm glad i can just relax and not worry about a tribal. i hope we can keep winning until a swap bc i think all 3 people left on my tribe could be of use to me. also fuck connor, he told everyone at the arena that me and caeleb have a premade, as if we even knew each other before this game. someone is bitter that he couldn't make relationships and was first boot. so im sure that information is spreading around and i should probably worry about that. but oh well, i'm just gonna focus on winning for now! woo go me.

Alright, so here we are, the first loss of the 2020 Tumblr Olympics. Sure, we may have had the Silver medal bonus for that challenge, but the tribe just isn't suited I guess towards slide puzzles, and plus Bailey was busy so wasn't able to compete like we had hoped. It's all good though, as I always say that life comes before an online game, so nothing but respect. Anyways, I formed a three person alliance with Beck & Ben, basically as far as I am aware, us three are the most active on the tribe, and really only ones that talk much on the tribe, so basically they are the only two I really connected with enough to be able to put my trust in, just hopefully this alliance all works out for now. Then in terms of this vote, I feel it will be Kathy going, as she just doesn't seem all too dedicated towards the game/is a little inactive, and not talking really to anybody, so even though I do like Kathy, just inside this game, at least at this stage of the game, we need tribe strength, and she just isn't going to be putting that through whilst not being as active as others. Anything can happen though, and there is still the arena yet so who knows, the person voted out of this tribe could end up coming back with a gold medal.

i'm pretty sad that my tribe is going to tribal but at the same time i'm confident i won't be leaving, mostly because 2/5 of our tribe members aren't very active. i also have this alliance with ben and darcy now which seems like a strong trio, so even though we lost immunity it could be a LOT worse. unfortunately the downside is that if we're voting out kathy (which is most likely) she's probably too inactive to do the arena challenge, so we're not gonna get any medals in the arena... but that's alright i suppose, we just have to work hard for the next one. if ben can't participate in the next immunity challenge i feel like our tribe is gonna be in a really tough spot. but i'm praying for the best anyway.

Not gonna lie, slide puzzles are awful for immunity challenges, especially if the RNG is manipulated just right. There's a way to solve them correctly every time, but to do it in the minimal number of moves requires that everything go your way in terms of luck. I'll take the L, but I am not happy.

i’m honestly so frustrated that emma didn’t even submit but! she’s such a sweetheart that i felt really awful voting to get her out, but that was just a lil. hm. also apparently i’m close to her now? so that was inch resting to hear. thank u billy

Landons going home

my truth is that i keep forgetting check my skype and i want my teammates to glock me and vote me out

Even with the gold medal I won, we still somehow end up going to tribal. Tell me, HOW THE FUCK DO WE MANAGE TO DO SOMETHING LITERALLY SO ASTRONOMICAL?! It drives me mad how we had such a big advantage...christ. Anyway, a few things I'm thinking about heading into tribal. A) Everyone voted me last time, so I'm playing this one a little more no holds barred. B) I'm thinking about what's the biggest advantage to me whether the person I vote out comes back or fucks off into 24th place. C) I couldn't care less about how we're doing in challenges at the moment. I want people who'll be loyal to me, and in return people that I can put my faith in. Right now, that's Emma and Emma only. However, she didn't participate in the challenge, so it's a little bit of an awkward situation. I know that Landen, can be an extremely good player UTR heading later into the game, and to be honest I feel like he's a bit shady. So, adios to him. I get Emma and Juls vote, and Jacob if he cares enough, easy done. I'm 99% sure tribal will go my way tonight, here's to hoping the odds are in my favour!

I am now apparently a swing vote somehow someway. Landen or Emma goes. I would prefer to vote out neither of them, but hey, I could end up going to. Were you expecting something better? nah. Five player tribes SUCK. Billy and Landen are battling for control of the tribe. I kindof like that battle to continue. Plus I trust Landen, kindof. If Juls is voting Landen, I vote Landen because there's no point. If Juls votes Em, then I vote Em. If Juls doesn't respond before the vote, uh, we'll see. I think she'd be more likely to vote out Landen, but like idk. EIther way, none of these people are me, and I am a number to anyone involved. Mission success? I just need to challenge beast a little bit more.

Ughhh I don't want to be making this confessional right now. Hardly anything has changed since the last time I went to tribal, in terms of my annoyance with the team. We were SO close to winning, we almost had it, and we could've gotten it if Emma had just SUBMITTED. I actually really like her too so it's really frustrating that she does this but I can't justify keeping her when she just.... didn't submit. Not only that but she never apologized, commented on it, or anything. Like that's just plain disrespectful. So I'm wanting to vote her out. Unfortunately I feel like Juls is way too close with her, their bond is dangerous and Juls probably feels like she has to work with Em because they are some of the only girls in the gay-infested ORG community so they just feel a natural connection from that, and they are similar in other ways as well. I definitely feel like those two being as close as they are will be dangerous to me tonight and I know for a fact my name was going around, too. I heard about that from Jacob and it's not surprising at all they would throw my name out. The danger is they could abuse Billy, and they know it. They're definitely trying to get me voted out, and they're definitely trying to use Billy as a number to do it. Which is absolutely ridiculous since they were the first ones to throw his name out and push for it, but oh well. A snake's a snake, and I'm going to try and chop this one's tail off. Notice I said the tail because Emma is literally useless and does absolutely nothing and she's lucky Juls is tryna carry her through this. I'm pressedt. I definitely know I'm in danger and it's like, whatever. If I go in, I'm fine, I can presumably make my way out of the arena and back to the game where I can wreak havoc and be righteously emotional because taking me, the person who got the best score and has been making the most effort to actually talk to people on this deadbeat fucking tribe, out, in Round 2, is kinda just psychotic. I'm absolutely livid and I just... Ugh, it has not been the best week and this game is just starting off so slow and I hate my tribe SO much like it's literally disgusting. I used to hate the One World Twist and I still do as a concept, but thank GOD for it being in this one because I can only tolerate my tribe thanks to being able to talk to people from the other tribes like Jacob, Sammy, Caeleb, etc. I just want this round to be over with and to stop losing for just a few rounds. whew that's all i have to say fuck emma for throwing this

So I survived tribal! That's great! I was really hoping it wasn't going to be like a permanent red mark against my record. I obviously had a plan for if I did go into the arena, and I figured I would survive, but I'm really glad I don't have to have that permanent scratch on my Tumblr Survivor Record now, and hopefully that makes the endgame easier to navigate. You have to consider things like the FTC early in seasons like these because of the one World Twist and the Arena twist. Both totally impact whether the jury will vote for you, and so it's important to be thinking far more ahead than one usually thinks in Survivor. I'm honestly SHOCKED that I survived tribal tonight, I was 100% Juls and Billy were voting for me, but I'm really glad it happened. I think this confirmed my loyalty with Billy, but in tribal I did come off passive aggressive and honestly, they can deal with it. I wanted to be slightly entertaining but still try to sound rational and sane in where I was coming from, hopefully I accomplished like that? Like I was just so frustrated that my name was in genuine consideration, from what *I* had heard. Like... why the fuck? I got the highest score in the challenge, offered to do flag and did chant for the other team, Emma did nothing both times, it was obvious she should've been the vote. And I'm really happy all the tribe came around with that. I'm really happy I can appreciate loyalty from the people I've grown to like on this tribe. I think I can count on Jacob as a number, and as far as Juls and Billy go, I love those two man. They are great people and I love talking to them. The only issue I have with this tribe is everyone is quiet and shaky and on such a small tribe, everyone gives indefinite answers and it makes things fucking awkward and paranoia runs rampant as you saw tonight. I'm just happy to be safe, have numbers, and be out of the damn Arena. That being said, this tribe is still too tiny and with a possibly furious Emma coming back to exact revenge (and I know she has a lovely heart and personality so I'm definitely expecting her to win over an army) I want to swap out of here as fast as possible so I can begin building my own path to a glimmering throne.

He’s not as good at challenges as billy, and I’m close with juls and Jacob so I’m not voting them, and billy is immune And everyone is voting with me in theory except landen Next round I’m hoping we don’t go to tribal lol

This tribe kindof hates each other. Landen and Billy are distrustful of each other. Emma and Landen are also distrustful. Juls and Landen and Emma and Billy are pairs if we want to go that far. I am good with Emma and Landen, Emma slightly less so now, but I did help her out quite a bit. I'm playing both sides pretty well, let's see how far that'll get me, cause I need to be incredibly careful. Juls is also viewed as a greater swing vote, so if both sides-ing does come back to bite us, it should bite Juls before me. Hopefully Emma comes back.

so round two has been a bit better, i think ive repaired all my relationships on my tribe and even managed to stand out in the challenge so maybe they think theyll need me and keep me around. Long story short i think I have longevity for now, but to be completely honest the longer this twist is in the game where once im voted out i just have to beat somoene in a challenge to get back like, im not overly concerned

Just wanted to ask HOW WERE WE ABLE TO WIN IMMUNITY WHEN WE DIDN'T EVEN GET A MEDAL?!?!?!?!?!? *cackling* Also Connor getting voted out is what he gets for saying in the main chat to vote me out. <3 u Connor <3

youtube

#zestypowerfuluniqueflavorfulhealthy #confessionals

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avenging-fandoms · 6 years ago

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riverdale 3x20 reactions and opinions (spoilers)

- i bet the farm had something to do with the crash

- i don’t think hal was on that bus

- MARY JDKNDKN

- i hate alice so much

- it’s not even funny

- jughead with those rings is so hot WHEW

- he’s such a good big brother

- IMDHSINSIS

- MAD DOG YES PLEAAE

- fangs wet? THANKS

- the way she looks at archie? veronica wants him again

- I LOVE MY CORE FOUR

- jughead is so sweet i love him so much

- cheryl can suck a fat one

- “only for you betty cooper” HE SSO CUTE

- LMFAOOO ARCHIE AND VERONICAS FACES IM DEAD

- OKAY BETTY GET IT

- aw betty :(

- my girl has no family left that loves and supports her

- WELL THATS ME BABY ILL LOVE YOU

- LMFAO WHAT

- WHERES REGGIE

- IS HE GONNA COME BACK ON PROM NIGHT

- oh cheryl snapped okay

- i still don’t like her

- just as soon as i start to love her

- she goes bad to her old ways

- i love bughrad as detectives

- archie cannot go ANYWHERE BUT riverdale

- SHES SO GORGEOUS I LOVE BETTY

- edgar’s so hot i’m so upset that i’m attracted to him

- POP IS SO CUTE I LOVE HIM

- betty’s so smart i love her

- MM YEAH THOSE BOUNCY SWEATPANTS

- okay archie get it

- my god alice needs to shut up for ONCE

- okay get UNDRESSED FOR ME DADDY WHEEWWW

- YEXYDDYEY GET IT GET IT FET IT

- A SLOW MO IFNDKDND MY OUSSY

- A HIGH FIVE DKFJOSMDL

- THEIR FACES I LOVE BUGHRAF DONDODND

- damn i love archie so much WHEW

- okay fangs calm down farmie

- ARE YOU KIDDING KDHJSBDJD

- my poor archie i wanna take care of him and let him know he’s okay and that he’s my winner

- OH OKAY RONNIE

- OH NO POP ARE YOU OKAY

- BUGHEAD SNAPPED IDNDODJD

- betty looks so hot oh my god

- and her voice?? EAT ME

- DAMN. THAT REALLY SUCKS. I FEEL BAD FOR RONNIE

- they’re looking at each other with such LOVE. WOW. OKAY VARCHIE

- BETTY BETTER NOT BE STUPID

- oh god i’m scared

- bETTY WHAT ARE TIY FOUNG

- WHAT US HAOOEBJGNKDMDLD

- that’s not hal

- WHERE AFE ALL THESE DEAD KIDS COMJNG FROM

- can season 4 bring betty HAPPINESS

- somethings gonna happen to fred when he’s away :(

- and that’s how they write him out :(((

- be. smart. betty.

- BO BETTY. DAY NO.

- WHAT THE FUCK KDKDOD

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dead-thorin · 5 years ago

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whew a lot has happened in the past few days yall

first and foremost, @allangelsgobyangharad saw that i was sad AND SHE SENT ME A BOOK AND SHE IS SUCH A GOOD EGG I LOVE HER it really cheered me up

so a dude broke my heart over the weekend and it literally wasnt his fault, i just had hopes that we could do a long distance thing and he didnt want to bc he felt like he was in a bad place in life to do it; it be like that.

I dont really decorate my room bc im kinda just like ‘well ill be moving in a year, why bother?’ but at target i bought some stuff (including a new shelf!) and some decorations and my room looks more lively and lived in now. I have a white board im using, a letter board that im gonna write positive messages for myself on (rn it says ‘keep going’), i changed my curtains to something less dark (theyre white with flowers on the bottom), a fake plant that looks realistic, and a wax warmer to diffuse lavender scent into my room (it smells damn amazing). My therapist was really proud of me for doing all this and im proud i did it too. Like being in the room gave me anxiety and made me sad and switching it around really helped me separate us being together and him leaving and me sleeping here and shit

i got myself a book about anxiety and meditation thats p funny (by dan harris) and im gonna read it tomorrow during lunch and maybe take some notes. Ive also been thinking about going back on medication so i think im gonna schedule an appointment tomorrow with the psych here and see what she thinks. itll suck but i think for rn its best bc ive been anxious for a while and until i can get my coping mechanisms down, ill need some extra help. therapist was also proud i was pro active in this

The process for top surgery is slow, but moving. The doctor faxed my letter over to the wrong department (bc the number was wrong on the website) so Im heading down there tomorrow and getting a physical copy. I called yesterday and she hadnt responded and thats the MO with this fucking office so I have to physically go there for it. It be like that. Also one of the students I work with goes to the city I wanna get surgery in and he said he was down to give me a ride there so im covered.

I had lunch with a friend and we talked about like my future plans and i mentioned how i was just like... done with library science. Its a lot of things but like a lot of people went into the field bc theyre like “oh i like reading!” when thats not what this field is about. Or they dont actually want to serve the public the way libraries are supposed to (like allowing individuals experiencing homelessness to be in that space). And like the job market is hard and public librarianship doesnt offer that great benefits so im like nervous (I always have a problem of looking too far ahead in life tbh). Michelle has always told me I would do great in public health bc i have a wide skill range, Im p sociable and a people person, i love educating, im passionate about the topics i talk about, etc so like i might do another masters in public health and theres one program i saw that looks good and the university also offers remitted tuition so in theory i could work there and get my degree too. I also probably wouldnt need gres since id already have a masters degree. My therapist slightly roasted me for this and was like “Jordan... too far ahead..” and i was like I KNOW!!! God I always do that but yeah at least i have a plan and if anything I could probably be an academic librarian for a public health department at a university; well see where life takes me

anyway yeah i feel a lot better about things and i know that life goes on and that im 23 and young and shit and that its just hormones but it just really sucks. And like Michelle said maybe one day we would get together, its just not the right time but im so impatient smh (which she also roasted me for; lunch with her is like being slowly cooked at 425F for an hour but its amazing). And if its not meant to be, then its not meant to be and thats ok too

#post from the blogger

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cancerianprincess · 6 years ago

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Birkin Bag (4)

|Part Three|

Summary: Erik finds out he might’ve rubbed off on his best friend a tad too much and that she’s really with the shits

Warning: Language, Angst, Kidnap Mention(s), Violence

A/N: I apologize for this taking so long (because whew chile....life) but other than that...I hope you guys are still with this series especially after this part because y’all just might hate me afterwards and that you enjoy 🙂🙃🙂🙃

~~~~

“I bought my bitch a Birkin Bag so she could hold my fucking strap..”

____

The silence that hung in the air was so excruciatingly thick, even a chainsaw would’ve had trouble slicing through it had it been a tangible object. It had been that way the entire ride back into the city, and remained like that even as you currently sat on the floor of your master bathroom, tending to Erik’s wounds. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to talk to him, it was more of a matter of figuring out how you would go about navigating the debrief between you and your best friend.

Because, okay sure, you had gotten Erik out of the warehouse alive. And yeah, you showed that bootleg goon squad that you and yours were not to be fucked with. But at what cost did all those victories come with if it meant the strongest person you knew, appeared to be steadily unraveling right before your very eyes?

*******

“Nigga I thought I asked you a question.” Every word spoken was drenched in venom when an explanation for Trey’s presence wasn’t provided, causing a slight twitch in his smug demeanor, but not enough to allude to any sort of surrender.

“C’mon shawty don’t act like that. It’s been what…?” A beat. “Almost a year since I last saw you, and this the ‘hey’ I get?” The defeated shake of his head contradicted the dastardly chuckle that emitted lowly from his throat, rolling altogether to only make the taunting worse.

“Yeah, fucking ten months too soon,” you spat.

*******

Alright, so cue the record scratch. You and Trey hadn’t exactly ‘dated’, so technically he wasn’t your ex-boyfriend, but there was undoubtedly, and unfortunately, some history amongst the two of you. In all honesty, Trey was just some dude you had been smashing a while back and was tolerable enough to keep around from time to time. Though given the stunt he was presently pulling would make one think you and him had some Will-and-Jada type of love going on at one point.

Nevertheless though, neither a title or lackthereof had stopped the demented reject from being any less problematic, obviously given the situation at hand. Nor had it stopped you from bringing down Hell on Earth on him and his psychotic ass sidekick in order to rescue Erik from their clutches.

*******

Once you were positive you’d seen Jay take his last breath, you finally felt like you could release the one you’d been holding for the last two and a half days. The second you were sure that all signs of an immediate threat were gone, you practically tripped over your own two feet racing back to Erik. The distance between you and him seemed endless, almost mimicking those dramatic slow-mo scenes often seen in movies.

Zooming past Tracee’s motionless body sprawled across the cinder block floor, you reached Erik at last after what felt like centuries apart.

“Erik!?” you exclaimed trying to lull him from the comatose state he was in. “E, c’mon we gotta go, alright?? We gotta get you out of here, before he comes back, okay? Stevens, c’mon we gotta go, NOW!”

But whatever the reason, Erik seemed deaf to every word that left your lips. You ceased momentarily in your moderate slaps and shaking of trying to get his attention to cut Erik out the ropes that still had him bound to the chair. Once the last of the material gave way, the prince nearly fell to the floor instead of holding himself up, causing you to catch him just in the nick of time.

“Erik?! E, answer me! C’mon, N’Jadaka, pleaseee!”

Nothing was working, however. The broken man continued to stare straight through you with glossed over eyes as if you weren’t on your knees right in front of him, begging frantically for him to come back to reality.

For him to come back to you.

The very last attempt you gave was more for your benefit than Erik’s, and completely of the rhetorical nature. Cupping one side of his face, you searched for any readable sign that he couldn’t give verbally. With tears pooling in your eyes, you muttered softly in a voice beginning to crack with emotion, “Erik, baby...what did they do to you?”

Head dropping in defeat, you were about a millisecond away from throwing in the towel and opting to drag Erik out of the building by his shoulders-you were just that desperate. That was, until you felt a nudge against the palm of your hand.

“N-Niya?”

Erik had awoken from the self-induced trance and folded into your touch. Your gaze shot up at the sound of your dearest friend’s voice, and instantly came face-to-face with the sight of him finally peering at you rather than through you. A wave mixed of shock and relief briefly washed over you as you engulfed him in what might have qualified as the tightest bear hug in all of history.

If it wasn’t for him issuing a groggy “what’re you doing here”, you probably would’ve stayed wrapped around Erik forever over getting back to the mission at hand. Assisting him to his feet, you hoisted Erik up and draped one of his arms across your shoulders to support him as you guided both him and yourself out of the warehouse and towards the safety of your car.

*******

Erik flinched from the sting of the peroxide being applied to the cuts on his face, causing your focus to come back to the task. Your mind had gone into overdrive thinking about all that had just ensued, specifically what caused Erik to come back to his senses at the precise moment he did. Granted, it could’ve been the tender touch to his cheek and never before used pet name but I digress.

“Sorry,” you offered softly for being careless with his injuries.

Erik said nothing. He merely cut a glance your way prompting you that it was fine. But you felt otherwise. How was any factor of this situation fine, despite how big or small it was? The answer was simple: it wasn’t. As your former boy toy, Trey had been your responsibility, meaning that all of this was your fault.

Which is exactly why your mouth inadvertently started inducing an uncontrollable word vomit before your brain even knew what was happening.

“Erik, I am...so,so sorry,” you let out in a stifled sob. “F-For everything. For all of this. All of this is my fault. All that phony mess Trey was droning on about w-with you and Lynda, I should’ve known his ass was crazy. Even before then, when I started fucking with him I s-should’ve cut him off right after that. As soon as I realized he was je-”

The end of your sentence got snagged in your throat, causing Erik’s gaze to whip wildly to yours, searching your face with an expectant expression. Still, you caught and corrected yourself, quickly amending the broken statement. Before letting the thought get too far out in the open, you went on rambling so the subject didn’t have the opportunity to be tossed up for a separate debate.

“-as soon as I realized he had some real issues,” you went on. “I’m the one to blame for this happening to you. Them stalking you, snatching you from your place, abusing you; if you never became my best friend, none of this would be happe-”

“Aniya, stop it.”

Erik’s voice boomed off the bathroom walls more forcefully than he’d intended it to be, but either way he was successful in silencing you. He could tell by your long-winded spiel that you were you trying to act like the fluke in your words never transpired, and was willing to let it slide. But the minute you even suggested that his and your friendship had been the casualty among all this, he had to draw the line. He refused to let you believe you had to bear the burden of sins that weren’t yours. Sins from that had sprouted from his past.

“Listen,” he began. “Quit blaming yourself for what went down, alright? This was all on me, not you.”

“Erik, what? Cut it out,” you snipped at him, frustrated that he wasn’t allowing you take the responsibility that was supposedly yours. Dousing another cotton ball in the medical liquid, you made to resume caring for his contusions. “You weren’t the one sleeping with the nigga,” your voice gradually trailing off.

“Yeah?” Erik retorted bitterly. “Well you weren’t the one who murdered the woman carrying your unborn child.”

The words spoken made your whole body lurch to a halt. Your hand hung frozen, leaving the cotton ball suspended in mid-air. As many times as they had echoed in your skull in the short span of time, they just didn’t seem to register properly, the shock was that great. And it became increasingly evident that there was no lie told in what was said, given away by the rigid line Erik’s jaw had set into immediately after revealing what might have been his darkest secret to date.

Convinced it would never subside on its own, you eventually willed yourself to speak to be certain there was no mistake in what you heard.

But it only seemed to get worse when Erik affirmed it, through clenched teeth and staring straight ahead, by saying, “Lynda...she was two months pregnant when I shot her.”

~~~~

|Part Five|

~Taglist~

@iamrheaspeaks @princesskillmonger @eriknutinthispoosy @wheredidallthedreamersgo @sonofnjobu @bidibidibombaclaat @turn-thy-paige @theunsweetenedtruth @chaneajoyyy @madamslayyy @mareethequeen @marvelpotterlove @ayellepea @another-imaginesblog @pandigirl11 @tiava143 @hold-me-like-a-heart-beat @allhailnjadaka @muse-of-mbaku @okoyesbabe @purple-apricots @youreadthatright @eriks-girl @erikslulbaby @amethyst1993 @wakanda-inspired @halcyonscry @laketaj24 @bartierbakarimobisson @pandigirl11

#erik x reader #erik killmonger fic #black panther #birkin bag #u guessed it #mini series #cancerianpricess #wakanda #Erik Stevens #erik x aniya #redeemed!erik #erik killmonger #N’Jadaka

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minaminokyoko · 7 years ago

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O Captain, My Captain

So any of you who know me on any level know that I’ve been harboring serious lust affections for Mr. Nathan Fillion for eight years and counting.

Welp. I set myself a goal and today, I made it a reality.

Voila.

Yes, that is me cheesing with the one and only absolutely gorgeous Nathan Fillion, courtesy of Dragon*Con 2017.

And yes, I dressed to kill because I was intent on seducing the man and I have absolutely zero fucking shame.

It was an incredibly tense morning, and I do mean morning: me and my bestie got up at 5am and got dolled up, then drove to the train station to get to the con. The most stressful part of this fucked up con is that unfortunately, you don’t know what a celebrity’s autograph hours or their prices are until you’re inside the Walk of Fame room, and so you basically have to come crazy early and prepare to wait and be vigilant to get your chance. However, that’s part of why I always do photo ops. That is an assured meeting with my sweetie of choice, where as autograph sessions are first come, first served, and Nathan hasn’t been at Dragon*Con since 2008 and so I knew his fans would make up most of the Friday congoers.

The photo op was at 11:40am, so I had a delightfully long wait, but thank God, the line moved quickly. That’s a blessing and a curse, which I’ll discuss in a moment.

So what’s Nathan Fillion like?

For one, he’s terribly, terribly polite. He introduced himself to each person who walked over for the photo and shook their hand and asked their name. Then the photo is snapped and he thanked them for coming out and for being patient. Which is hella sweet, honestly.

I had a chuckle with the volunteers in line because of my shameless Lady in Red ploy. The lady outside the room laughed because before I went in, I switched out my sensible flats for three inch heels (I like looking taller in photos, and plus, it makes me look sexier to some extent, imo) and she said, “Watch out! She’s got the heels out now!” And then the guy right by Nathan who helped move the line along asked if I was alone in the photo with Nathan and I said yes and he said, “Selfish, huh? I like it!” since the previous two photo ops were a group and a pair.

Let me tell you something, people.

One, Nathan Fillion has the softest hands I’ve ever felt on a man. I mean, wow. I swooned a little.

Two, holy shit, is he fucking gorgeous in person.

So after the photo, I scurried upstairs and got in line for the Walk of Fame room and stood another hour in the blistering hot lobby until it opened and me and bestie made a beeline for Nathan’s line. Because I’ve been to Dragon*Con probably 2-3 times, I knew that it’s absolutely essential to be at the front of the line when Walk of Fame opens or you won’t get to meet your celebrity simply because there are just too many fans and they have to cut the room off when they reach their capacity. Since we planned ahead, we were within the first fifty people to see him once he came up from the photo op room.

And that’s where my story gets a little bittersweet.

First off, his autograph was $100, cash only, and it wasn’t personalized. I frown at that. To give you some perspective, William Shatner and Gillian Anderson were both $80 last year. I don’t blame Nathan. I doubt he has control over his rates, but I do think it’s kind of shitty that his staff he won’t let him personalize the photo considering each fan is coughing up $100. To give you even more perspective, remember when I met Chris Evans January of last year? I paid $400 for his VIP package and it came with a photo op, a lithograph, an autograph, a reserved seat at the Civil War panel, and early access to the dealer’s room. And that’s Chris fucking Evans, a bonafide A-lister and a millionaire. So you understand that I’m feeling some type of way about how they decided to charge $100 with no personalized autograph. I can’t imagine it would take that much more time for him to add your name when he was already signing it.

Plus, because of the massive turnout of fans, each signing is under 20 seconds long. I’m dying inside because of it. If you’ve been following me for a while, you’ll know that I have a fixation with meeting famous people. Why? My life is boring as fuck and hardly anyone likes me, and so it really gets my motor going to meet famous people because I love telling the story of what they’re like. The average person’s not going to meet a celebrity, and so I enjoy it as a hobby because I find it very fulfilling.

So, out of courtesy for the hundreds of fans waiting to meet him, I didn’t really get to say much to him, and it hurts a little because I wanted to tell him a few things, but I didn’t want to appear selfish.

But hey, that’s why this is bittersweet. The fact that I didn’t get to tell him what he’s meant to me is the bitter part.

The sweet part is that it took probably about an hour and twenty to thirty minutes between the photo op and the autograph, and Nathan Fillion remembered me.

Him: Oh, we met downstairs! What’s your name again?

See, that? Yeah. I’m okay with that. Because he picked me out of a crowd of a few hundred people and that’s a pretty big fucking feather in my cap. So obviously my Lady in Red ploy worked to some degree.

Lastly, the funniest thing happened while I was in his line. He was leaning down to sign an autograph and then he looked up at the next person and ran his hand through his hair to push it out of his face.

...

You know those Pantene Pro-V commercials with the sexy half naked lady flinging her hair in slow-mo and it’s utterly tantalizing?

Yeeeeeeah, my mind just went fucking blank when he did that.

I just need y’all to understand than Nathan Fillion looks great on TV, but the man is seriously a fucking hunk in real life. Goddamn. I started fanning myself, for God’s sake. He is just...beautiful in person. Whew.

Anyway, I was also lucky enough to meet two of my other idols right after Mr. Fillion: Michael Rosenbaum and Steve Blum. And I am delighted to say those interactions weren’t bittersweet--just sweet all the way around.

Michael Rosenbaum was a fucking darling cinnamon bun, just like Wally. He asked me my name and I told him, and then I started gushing about how Justice League was amazing and he just lent so much heart to the role of Wally West and he was basically my entire childhood. So then Rosenbaum turns to the line of fans and yells, “Hey! She says I’m her entire childhood! Like her whole childhood! Man, that makes me feel old!” And I apologized (jokingly, of course) and he starts goofing off with me and my bestie and even another fan in line. He was so adorable and gracious and I love the way he said my name. What a lovely guy.

Meeting Steve Blum (FINALLY) was a hoot as well. So me and bestie went up to him and we told him we were so happy to catch him this year because a couple years ago, we were in his line for an autograph at Momocon and they literally cut the line off ONE person away from the two of us after an hour and a half of waiting. Steve (bless his darling heart) apologized, but we of course told him that wasn’t his fault at all, and I told him that it was so great to finally see him up close because I had asked him a question at his panel and he jokingly told me he loved me and I almost fainted dead away and forgot my question. He laughed and asked me what question I had asked, and then he signed for me. While we were chatting it up, I asked him if he cried on the last episode of Cowboy Bebop and he said yes and went even further to tell me that the studio and the voice director didn’t tell him how the anime ended. He found out as he was voicing it. He was just like us--totally shocked and upset and like me he pretends Spike is totally fine at the end.

And then, in typical Kyo fashion, I accidentally made a fool of myself with my stupid iPhone. Apparently, it ran out of storage and so we were trying to record something and it wouldn’t take and so I’m apologizing profusely and blushing up a storm, but Steve is like, “No, it’s okay!” and he takes my phone and tries to see if it’ll work, but it won’t, so we record it on my bestie’s phone instead. He was so sweet! I felt like such a dumb schmuck when my phone wouldn’t take the video, but he was amazingly nice and I hugged him before I left and it was just the best thing ever. Steve Blum for president, man. What a standup guy.

Tomorrow’s got the legendary Ming Na Wen on the agenda, so you’ll see part two of my recap. Probably with a LOT of screaming, because Ming Na is my queen and I must worship her accordingly. Here’s to Saturday.

Kyo out.

#nathan fillion #michael rosenbaum #steve blum #dragoncon #dragoncon 2017 #photo op #autograph #personal post #con #castle #firefly #mal reynolds #wally west #JLU #cowboy bebop

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