#yet another fic that has been lying in my drafts for over a month that i finally picked off to dust and finish

[rose-tinted-vision]

Fandom: I am Nobody (一人之下)

Relationship: Wang Ye/Zhuge Qing

Summary:

Zhuge Qing was supposed to die.

Or so he thought. He had been on the verge of death, that much he knew. He had assessed his injuries. Had known his chances of surviving the night were close to none.

Lady luck was on his side, apparently.

“You’re awake.”

Or, a crane spirit and a general, through the passing seasons.

[luvelve]

boyfriend!wonwoo who wakes up at the slightest sound or movement and he can’t help it or do anything about it even if he so badly wants to. the first few weeks of living together was difficult to say the least. you’d wake up in the middle of the night to pee or to have a glass of water and you’d find wonwoo sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for you to come back. guilt would wash over you knowing he has to get up early in the morning and every other morning.

you feel like the worst person in the world having to interrupt his slumber, but he tells you its okay. you once even offered to sleep in separate rooms so wonwoo can have 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep. but of course, he turned the offer down. sometimes he’d act like he wasn’t woken up from your movement because he knows you still feel guilty.

you’re many months into sharing a bedroom and you’ve kinda gotten used to your light sleeper of a roommate. it’d help when wonwoo came home absolutely exhausted, he’d sleep like a baby and couldn’t be disturbed by anything.

it’s way past 3am on a gloomy tuesday morning when you feel your blanket shift and cold wind hit your lower body. you look over your shoulder to wonwoo’s side and you see him getting up and putting his glasses on. he’s quietly heading towards the door when you let out a mumble.

“i’m sorry my love, i didn’t mean to wake you.” he finds your face under the moonlight that shines through the window.

“where are you going?” you use whatever strength you have to sit yourself up on the bed.

“i was just going to get some uh… water.”

liar. the glass of water you put on his bedside table before lying down has barely been touched. and the fact that he put his glasses on isn’t helping his lie either. it takes you a few seconds but you also notice that his hair hasn’t been messed up from sleep.

“have you been up all night?” you shoot him a head tilt, slowly getting up from your bed to make your way towards him. you can tell the mental gymnastics he’s doing in his head to try and convince you to get back to bed. at this point, wonwoo knows you’ve got him and there’s no point in lying anymore.

“yes… but its okay, really. y-you can go back to bed.” he tells you softly, putting his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. even at this hour, when wonwoo hasn’t had a second of sleep, he’s still able to be this selfless.

you stand just a few inches away from him, head tilted up to look him in his tired and droopy eyes while he looks down at you, doing the same thing. it’s silent and the only thing that can be heard is the faint sounds of the city. you take a small step to close the gap between the two of you as you wrap your arms around his waist. your head is resting on his chest and you feel it rise and fall.

“we’ve talked about this before. you always stay up with me, even when i never ask you to. waiting for me to get back from the kitchen or the bathroom. and it’s unfair to you… but i hope you know that i’d do the same for you.” you close your eyes, head still resting on his chest, internally blaming yourself for not being as light a sleeper as your boyfriend.

he smiles and returns your hug, wrapping his arms around your body and resting his chin on the top of your head. “i know, my love. i’m sorry.” another trait of your wonwoo’s, being sorry for something that’s not even his fault.

“just wake my sleepy ass up next time, okay?” he lets out a laugh and you feel it rumble in his chest. you lift your head up to look at him once again as he nods. his smile is big enough that the corners of his eyes crease.

“jeon wonwoo, i wanna hear you say it.” your voice is soft yet a bit playful. you tug at his white shirt as your lips unconsciously form into a slight pout.

“yes, maam.”

a/n: as usual, this is very self indulgent. but also, i feel like this is something that wonwoo would actually do :(( aaand i still can’t seem to finish this wonwoo fic that’s been in my drafts for over 3 weeks so pls enjoy this for now <3

[twstbookclub]

Unexpectedly Cute

Summary: You were grumbling about Grim and his absurd eating habits, when you found a small cactus in the courtyard. When you picked it up, you didn't think you'd see another side of Jack that day. He didn't expect to see another side of you, either. POV: 2nd Person Pronouns: Gender-neutral Admin/Writer: Cressa🦋 Tags: Fluff, Romantic/Platonic, Tiny Cactus!!, Tsundere Jack Howl (that's putting it superficially), MC is a short and feisty firecracker in this Word Count: 1, 879 hi, i'm alive. i genuinely have a hard time writing jack, ngl. prompts for him were being switched around, and college is still kicking my ass. it's been months, really. although, i want to thank everyone who stuck around and waited for us to post fics again. i'm going to be busy again some time soon, but i hope i get to my drafts before i have to go back to the grind. again, thank you so much and i hope you enjoy reading 💕

Jack Howl has always been an enigma to you. He was an open book most of the time. His cheeks flushed whenever you pointed out his concern for others. His eyebrows pinched together every time you called him kind. He always averted his eyes and turned away from you whenever you smiled knowingly, as if you held his secrets in the palm of your hand.

Yet, he never talked much about himself. He always tagged along with your unusual, ragtag group of friends. Even if Ace and Deuce’s fights annoyed him sometimes, he still stayed. His ears twitched at every little noise. His tail wagged whenever he was happy, and it slowly swayed from side to side whenever he was content. You always noticed the little things about Jack, but he never breathed a word about his life outside of Night Raven College nor his personal preferences.

He was an open book, but the pages were inked with ciphers and riddles that hid all of his secrets.

“Why the hell…?” You trailed off with a raise of your brow. In your hands sat a small pot with a succulent in it. Its soil was a rich brown, surrounding a round and prickly cactus. Judging by the soil and the color of the cactus, it was well taken care of.

Your hand hovered over the thorns, but you pulled away with a shake of your head. As mesmerized as you were by the tiny and cute plant, you had your priorities.

For example, why the hell was a succulent—that was given this much love and care—lying on the courtyard?

You were on your way to Sam’s store for a quick restock of tuna cans for Grim (that tiny rascal got greedy and ate a month’s supply), when you found this little thing. It laid on its side on the grass near the stone pathway. The moment you held it in your hands, you couldn’t help but admire how adorable and pretty the cactus was.

“Now, what are you doing here?” You mumbled to yourself as you continued on your way to Sam’s store. “You look like you’ve been really loved by your owner, so how did you end up here?”

With how engrossed you were in admiring the little cactus, you failed to hear a choked noise and the abrupt halt of footsteps behind you. You continued to give the succulent all of your attention with gentle hands and more murmurs.

You were an enigma to Jack Howl. You rarely talked about yourself, yet you revealed so much of yourself. He remembered how a scowl always marred your face, specifically the times when someone annoyed you. He remembered the fire in your eyes when you gnashed your teeth at Leona’s insults. He remembered the curses that spilled from your lips, whether it was spite for the assholes in NRC or your everyday self-expression. There was never a day that you spoke without cursing like a sailor drunk on booze and the salty sea air.

Jack was reminded of a wildfire every time he saw you. You wreaked havoc everywhere you went. A single touch—maybe a glimpse—from you seared your presence into someone’s mind, like an ember swelling into an inferno among a sea of trees. Like a moth to a flame, he gravitated towards you despite that faint voice warning him in the back of his mind.

The Savanaclaw freshman watched you smile, a miniscule quirk of your lips. The hands that cradled his potted cactus were the same ones that punched a sophomore, who mocked you for your short height. The eyes that held so much contempt and rage were looking at that succulent with quiet admiration, as if you were looking at the stars rather than a single plant.

Just now, you reminded Jack of a pure, white dandelion whose seeds danced and twirled in the wind.

Before Jack realized it, he clapped a hand on your shoulder with a gruff, “Hey.”

You jumped, clutching the little cactus close to your chest with a loud, “Son of a b—Jack!” One of the wolf beastman’s ears twitched, catching a hint of relief and exasperation in your voice. His eyes never missed the way you pulled the plant close to you, as if it was a child that should be protected. The soft admiration in your gaze was replaced with harsh and guarded eyes, the usual. Jack noticed how much he paid attention to you, and he became a bit embarrassed at the thought.

“That’s, uh, mine,” he stammered. Your eyes were drawn to the light flush on his cheeks. His gaze averted to the side, and he raised a hand to rub the back of his neck. Subtly, you glanced at Jack’s tail.

It was wagging from side to side, for some reason.

Looking back at the taller beastman, you drawled, “I didn’t know you have a green thumb, Jack. Maybe I should ask you to help me with gathering ingredients for Professor Crewel next time.”

The embarrassed blush grew worse, darkening his cheeks. The sharp edges in his eyes returned with a glower. You couldn’t help the grin that stretched across your face when you heard Jack growl.

“... Don’t push it, Prefect. It’s not like I’d help you out every time you call me.”

Yet, he always did.

You shrugged and laughed with a playful nudge to Jack’s side. Careful hands returned the succulent to him as you chirped, “You say that, but you always come running whenever I do. Just admit it, Jack.”

He shot you an unimpressed look, and you laughed as he took the tiny pot from you. Jack’s ears twitched again. His eyes drank in the way your smile lit your face; how your irises hid behind the chub of your cheeks. For someone who’d pounce at anyone with murderous intent in that petite body, he didn’t think he’d see you smile like that.

Jack’s tail wagged behind him, fast enough to fan cool air to anyone who stood behind him. You silently mused about how it could sweep the dirt off the ground if it wagged any faster.

“It’s not like you to lose something,” you pointed out with that grin still on your face. 

Jack clutched the pot with a stutter and a furrow of his brows. You nearly laughed at his embarrassment, and you couldn’t help but muse to yourself.

Jack can actually be cute like this. He’s even being gentle with the pot. Cute.

“I-I was taking the cactus out for some sun,” Jack began with a frown as the blush was fading from his cheeks, “when Ruggie found me and told me that Leona needed me for something. The next thing I knew, it's in your hands.”

“The little guy took a tumble, then,” you concluded with a look at the cactus in Jack’s hands. “It was on the ground when I found it. Where did you leave it earlier?”

“On that bench.” Jack nudged his head towards one of the benches in the courtyard. A patch of sunlight shone over one of its edges, while the shadow of the tree stretched across the grass.

Jack watched you stare at the bench with a hum. With your attention occupied like this, he observed you without warranting unwanted embarrassment.

You bit your lip, pulling the bottom into your mouth. A million thoughts seemed to run through your mind behind that gaze of yours. A faint breeze rustled your hair and tickled your skin—and Jack couldn’t look away, for some reason.

Your eyes darted towards Jack, and he nearly flinched from getting caught staring at you. Although, you didn’t seem to think of it that way.

“I tried to scoop back some of the soil that fell out,” you told him with a lopsided smile. It looked awkward on you, as if you’re not used to smiling this much in a day.

“You’re lucky that the pot’s made of plastic. Maybe some jerk decided it was funny to ruin someone’s day like this.”

Jack continued to watch you mumble speculations under your breath. He didn’t realize it, but his hands gripped the pot and his tail wagged faster.

Who knew you could be this mellow? Your concern for his plant was kind of cute.

“Thanks,” Jack told you with a small smile, “for finding my cactus.”

You stopped mumbling, and you looked up at Jack again. You looked surprised at his gratitude, as if being thanked was rare for you. While Jack drank in the foreign expressions you made, a thought suddenly dawned on him.

“By the way, what are you doing out here?”

That seemed to snap you back to reality. The familiar frown returned, one that Jack vividly remembered from the little time he spent with you.

“Grim ate too much tuna,” you grumbled with an annoyed glare. It was as if you could see the monster-cat right in front of you.

“Now, I gotta buy more from Sam. That little bastard, I swear to the Seven—”

Jack noticed that you mentioned the Seven, rather than the usual God. You were getting comfortable with the lingo here. The corner of his lips twitched at that. Still, he made sure not to smile. If he did, you’d just tease him more, and this conversation wasn’t going to go anywhere.

“I’ll walk you there. It wouldn’t feel right if I left you after you helped me out.”

You paused at Jack’s words. A closed-lip smile lit your face, and the beastman couldn’t help but admire the sudden change in expression.

“Really?” You asked, and he caught the relief in your tone again. “Thanks. You sure you wouldn’t mind? I mean, you still have that little guy to take care of.”

You kept calling his tiny cactus a little guy. Cute. That was all Jack could think about. For someone who was callous and confrontational like you, you were being cute right now.

“I don’t mind. Besides,” Jack slightly raised the potted succulent to make his point, “think of it as returning the favor.”

You saw Jack’s tail wagging and his ears perking up. He probably didn’t notice, and you grinned  at that.

“If you insist!” You chirped, before slipping an arm in his and leading him towards Sam’s store. He stumbled and stuttered again, before he exclaimed, “O-oi, hold on!”

“No can do.” Your grin grew wider, as you tugged the taller and larger freshman with you. Even if he was stronger and stockier than you, Jack let you drag him around.

“You put yourself in this situation, so I’ll make you carry the rest of the cans!”

Who knew he could seriously be this cute and earnest? For someone as intimidating and quiet as Jack, his reactions are earnestly cute.

You and Jack fell into another conversation—teasing him and earning an embarrassed blush—as you two walked to Sam’s store. The silence in the courtyard was disrupted with amused laughter and mortified grumbles.

As the afternoon sun showered the two in a golden glow, the cactus seemed to look more lively and vibrant in Jack’s hands now. It basked in the two’s company, as if it was the sunlight it needed all along.

[shmaptainwrites]

Pay It Forward [Richard Castle]

Pairings: Richard Castle x GN!Reader

Characters: Richard Castle, (mentions of) Kevin Ryan, Javier Esposito, Kate Beckett, Martha Rodgers, Alexis Castle

Summary: Reader jumps in between Castle and a suspect before a fight and ends up spending the night confronting her feelings for the bestselling author

Warnings: descriptions of injury (non-graphic), insecurity, hospital mention

Note: And yet another Castle fic, again honestly most of this was written a few consecutive late nights in a row so I don't really know if the progression makes much sense, but I like it so who cares ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ this has been in my drafts for months wtf is wrong w me

Getting hurt in the line of duty was something in the back of the mind of every law enforcement officer. Even author Richard Castle suspected there would be an occasion or two where he’d bite the bullet (figuratively and literally). 

What he didn’t expect however was when following a lead an officer would jump between him and a suspect right before an altercation began. 

To be honest, you didn’t expect to do it either, but there was something about reflexes that you just didn’t have any control over. 

Castle tried to get in and give you a hand, but you yelled at him to stay back even though you knew you were in over your head. Your body was hopped up on so much adrenaline that it took you a moment to register when you were down. 

It wasn’t the worst you had been hurt, but you knew each of the small injuries added to one another would mean you’d be benched for the foreseeable future. 

“Shit!” you cursed as the suspect managed to get away. “Castle, call Ryan and Esposito I’m in no shape to go after this guy, make sure-ow,” you gripped onto your side as you sat up. “Make sure they have uniforms canvassing all the spots he might have gone to.” 

Castle nodded and quickly made the call for you before hanging up and putting his phone back in his pocket. 

“Hey, you don’t look too good,” he bent down next to you, noticing your split lip and a few other cuts you had around your face. Not to mention what looked like it could be a sprained ankle and a few bruised ribs.

“Been through worse, Castle,” you tried to push yourself up without much success. 

“I should take you to a hospital.” 

“No hospital,” you shook your head adamantly. “I’ll be fine.” 

“Like hell you will be,” he placed a hand around your back and helped you up, confirming his suspicions of a sprained ankle when you winced at the pressure you placed on your right foot. “If you won’t let me take you to a hospital, at least let me patch you up. I must have some things lying around at home we can make use of.” 

“Castle-,” 

“Don’t even try arguing with me on this,” he gave you a stern look. “I signed my papers, you didn’t have to jump in like that.” 

You sighed, “I know, it just sort of happened.” 

“It’s okay,” he assured you. “Just let me pay it forward.” 

You nodded your head and Castle supported you as you limped to the car. 

During the ride to Castle’s place, Ryan and Esposito called to inform you that just as you had suspected your perp had gone to one of his usual hideouts and had been intercepted by uniformed officers. Not without a fight, of course. 

“Glad that’s over,” you let out a breath and massaged your wrist. You had used it to break your fall when he had knocked you down, but you figured it was nothing that some ice and a tensor bandage couldn’t fix. 

Castle agreed with you as he pulled into the parking of his building and got out to give you a hand. You knew it was better not to fight him right now so you let him. You sent out a silent thank you to whoever invented elevators knowing your trip up would have been much more uncomfortable without it. 

As you entered Castle’s apartment, you noticed it was quieter than usual. You sat down on the couch and looked around, 

“Where’s Alexis?” 

“She’s staying at a friend’s house tonight,” Castle said while bringing the first aid kit and two ice packs to the couch. 

You stayed quiet as Castle examined the cut on your forehead, his fingers carefully brushing the skin next to it. 

He then grabbed an alcohol wipe and gave you the time old warning about it stinging. You scrunched your nose as the wipe made contact with the wound, but as soon as it started it was over and he placed two steri-strip bandages to keep the wound closed.

“You seem like you’ve had a bit of practice with this,” you said. 

“Nope,” he shook his head. “First time.” 

You chuckled a little to yourself, “Happy I could be your first something, Castle.” 

That made him break his concerned face with a small smile before turning his attention to your wrist that was already on ice. 

Similar to your own thinking he used a tensor bandage to wrap it, 

“Are you gonna tell me why you didn’t want to go to a hospital?” he asked. 

You shrugged, “I’ve been ignored in one enough times to know when I can try my luck outside.” 

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he said while wrapping up your wrist. “I think by this time you know my door is open if you ever need anything.” 

“Yeah, I do,” you smiled. “Thanks, Castle, really.” 

He lifted your hand up to examine his work with a smile at a job well done before pressing a small gentle kiss to the back of your hand. 

“So it can get better, of course,” he winked and you shook your head with a light laugh at his antics. “Your ribs,” he pointed to your chest. “He hit you pretty hard there, do you mind if I take a look?” 

“Castle, I thought you were a writer not an MD,” you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Okay, you’re right I’m not a doctor, but I’ve hurt myself before. Many, many times. At least maybe I can tell you if it’s worth seeing someone about it. Hey, I mean Lanie went to med school you could probably just go to her if you need to.” 

“And deal with Perlmutter if she’s not in? That’s my nightmare,” you shuddered.

“Come on, just give me a look. I promise no funny business,” he assured you and crossed his heart. 

You sighed deeply and winced a little, only prompting Castle to send you a pointed look which you acknowledged. 

“Fine, but not a word of this to Beckett, Esposito, or Ryan. They’ll chew my ear off if they hear I took my shirt off in front of you.” 

“Mum’s the word,” he nodded and with Castle’s help you slipped your shirt off. When you finally caught a glimpse of Castle he wasn’t even looking at your ribs, but instead right at you. 

“Castle, come on you said no funny business,” you whined. 

“No, no,” he shook his head. “I wasn’t-,” 

“Then what were you thinking about?” you raised your brows. 

“Nothing,” he shook his head. “Not important.” 

He then turned his attention to your newly formed bruise and tilted his head a little, curiously examining it. 

“I think you should get this one looked at. Doesn’t have to be tonight, but that’s a nasty hit if I’ve ever seen one.” 

“Whatever you say Dr. Castle,” you sighed and laid back on the couch. 

You looked straight ahead for a while before turning back to look at him, only to see he was staring at you again. 

“Castle, you’re really bad at pretending not to stare,” you chuckled humourlessly. “Honestly, right now I don’t think I could care less.” 

“You make it kind of hard not to stare,” he retorted. 

“Oh yeah, how so?” 

“I just can’t seem to wrap my head around how someone who just got their ass kicked can still look so beautiful.” 

You snorted, “Really, you’re a writer, Castle. I expected more from you.” 

“I’m not lying,” he handed you your shirt back. “Shirt on or off, ass kicked or not.” 

“Tell me why I don’t believe you then?” you took a moment to slip your shirt back on with a little bit of difficulty, but you managed it nonetheless. 

“Maybe I haven’t given you much reason to,” he shrugged. “Can’t blame you there. Or maybe…” 

“Maybe what?” 

“You can’t see it yourself.”

“Can’t see it-Castle, what are you talking about?” you frowned. 

“I’ve been working with you guys for over two years, it’s kind of my job to notice things,” he started. 

“And what did you notice about me?” you ventured asking. 

“You have the capacity to do your job and excel at it like no one I’ve ever seen,” he said. “But not once do you believe maybe your hunch is right. It’s always, no, let's do Beckett’s idea that seems better, you even indulge me more than you indulge yourself.” 

You chewed on the inside of your lip, he wasn’t wrong. 

“I just hope that mentality doesn’t find its way into the rest of your life too.” 

You nodded your head, lips pressed tightly together, what he had said struck a chord with you. Resonated deep inside your heart where you knew he was right. 

“And why do you care so much about me, Castle?” you dared to ask him. “Why did I jump in front of you to just get my ass kicked by our suspect? Do you have an answer to that too?” 

“I might, but I don’t think you’re gonna like it,” he chuckled lightly. 

“Maybe we should save it for another time then,” you whispered. “I think I um…I need to get back home.” 

You pushed yourself up off the couch, but Castle blocked you before you could leave. 

“Just stay here,” he said. “It’s late, you’re hurt. I-I don’t wanna leave you alone.” 

“Castle, I know your mom’s living with you again. I don’t wanna impose-,” 

“It’s not,” he shook his head and put his hands on your arms. “I swear it. You take my bed, I’ll sleep in Alexis’ room tonight.” 

You had almost already had one foot out the door, you were so ready to get the hell out of there, run away from your feelings, but before your mind could catch up your hearts words made it to your mouth and you said, 

“Okay…I’ll stay.” 

Castle smiled and nodded his head a few times, like he was taking in the fact that you had just agreed with him, to be honest, so were you. 

“Just give me a sec, I’ll grab you some stuff to take up with you,” he said before walking off to the linen closet to grab you a towel, a pillow, and an extra blanket. He came around to the stairs and motioned for you to follow him which you did

The door at the end of the hallway upstairs was the one that he led you to, pushing it open and allowing you to enter the room while he placed the things he had grabbed for you on the bed. 

“Um washroom is over there,” he pointed, “Alexis’s room is the one by the stairs. D-Do you need something to wear?” 

“Uh, no I think I can manage in these,” you looked down at the t-shirt and joggers you were wearing, thankful you had changed into your civvies before going out of the precinct. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, no worries,” he nodded, walking back from his bed and coming past you. “If you need anything, I’m just down the hall.”

You nodded your head. 

“Oh, I almost forgot,” he pulled a package out of his pocket. “Toothbrush.”

You smiled as he handed it to you. clearly having thought of everything. 

“You sleep well,” he placed a hand on your shoulder and leaned in to press a kiss to your cheek. As he began to pull away, his eyes met with yours and before you could control your actions you could feel yourself reaching out to him. An arm wrapped around his neck, toothbrush still in hand, one hand holding his face, and before you knew it you had pulled him fully into you, your lips pressed gently against his own. 

At that moment, you didn’t care anymore, you didn’t care about fighting your feelings, about whether or not this would end terribly and whether it was a good idea in the first place. All that mattered is that you knew what you wanted, and you were going for it. 

Castle pulled away after a moment, looking again into your eyes almost asking permission. Giving you a chance to back out in case this was all some mistake. 

But when you leaned in again, he took his cue and met you in the middle. 

His hands were wrapped so gently around your waist, careful not to squeeze or press too hard, avoiding your sore spots. 

The second time you pulled apart it was for air, your foreheads resting against each other, the only sound in the room was your breathing. 

“Would you…would you stay with me?” you asked. 

He pressed another kiss to your lips and nodded. 

“Anything you want,” he whispered, and he meant it. 

You unwrapped your arm from his neck, looking down at the toothbrush in your hand with a small smile. 

“I’m gonna go…” you looked to the washroom and he nodded saying something about getting changed. 

After you finished brushing your teeth, you came back into the room just as Castle was about to slip on a t-shirt. 

“Now we’re even,” he said. “And not a word to Beckett, Esposito, and Ryan,” he teased you. 

“Come on, we both know you would love it if they knew,” you rolled your eyes and made your way closer to his bed. 

“Nah,” he shook his head and slipped on his shirt. “I think I’m okay keeping this one to myself.” 

When you sat on the edge of the bed, Castle stayed where he was, that same knowing look in his eyes.

“What are you staring at?” you asked, pulling your legs up and sitting cross-legged. 

He just shrugged and came to the other side of the bed, it was odd how you’d never noticed that look. Had he always looked at you that way? 

“Rick,” you said quietly and he nodded, showing you had his attention. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?” 

He chuckled a little, “I-Well I always thought you kind of hated me.” 

“I kind of hate everybody,” you leaned back against the headboard. “I hate you a little less.” 

He laughed and you did too, until you felt the ache in your ribs, prompting you to stop.

“I’ll take it,” he reached out to hold your hand and you took it, pulling him closer until this time he took the lead and cradled your face, kissing you again. 

“You know,” you mumbled in between kisses. “You don’t have to not say things on my account, ever.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he assured you. “And you know you’ll always have a place here.” 

“I could get used to that,” you nodded, holding his face in your hands and pulling him in even closer, until there was barely any space left between you. 

He used the proximity to wrap one of his arms around the side of your waist that wasn’t bruised and pull you over more towards him, having you practically lean into his chest, until you both sunk down into the plush mattress. 

“I don’t think I’m doing your lip much good,” he murmured while brushing his thumb across where you had split your bottom lip. 

“It’ll heal,” you kissed his thumb which was still resting against your mouth. 

“And so will you, but not if we stay up all night.”

You let out a small chuckle, “Alright, Doctor Castle, I’ll rest,” you conceded, letting your head rest against his chest, just high enough that he could bend his neck and press one last kiss to your forehead. 

Closing your eyes, it felt nice to know that someone would be there to hold you when you woke up. 

[girlylukehughes]

give me a minute

part two of the give me a minutes hockey fic! (jamie drysdale x singer! reader)

part one, part two, part three

ynuser just posted!

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ynuser: give me a minutes out now on all streaming platforms!! thank you to my wonderful, sweet, beautiful boyfriend for inspiring the five love songs on this album you are my forever muse<3 (pssssttt fans check apple pies credits for a surprise!)

also a big thank you to cuzzo shatty for introducing us after i freaked out over how cute he was during the draft and begged you to give him my number(it only took you three years🙄)

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trevorzegras: my eye is twitching...

trevorzegras: you have to be joking.

— ynuser: hi trev! i love the blue blanket you guys keep on the couch where did you get it!

—— trevorzegras: YOUVE BEEN IN MY HOUSE??!!?

——— jamie.drysdale: you were there like three of the times she was you're just oblivious

———— trevorzegras: im crying into my pillow

————— jamie.drysdale: hes not lying i can hear him

userone: JAMIE HAS CREDITS ON APPLE PIE FOR GUITAR BRB WHILE I SOB?????

shattdeuces: you're welcome i was done listening to you complain.

— ynuser: 😁😁😁

usertwo: how long until trevor realizes she said her and shatty are cousins

— ynuser: like 5 more minutes and then we'll have another comment

trevorzegras: WAIT COUSINS?????

— ynuser: usertwo told you!

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jamie.drysdale just posted!

liked by: ynuser and 1.3 million others

jamie.drysdale: my girlfriend writes love songs about me :)) go listen to her very first album right now!! also thank you for letting me play guitar on one of the tracks, it was the best experience ever

and thank you to fans who saw me at the show three months ago and didn't post or say anything yet! we appreciate you for respecting our privacy!

tagged: ynuser

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ynuser: i'll write all my songs about you forever :)

— jamie.drysdale: you're the sweetest ever

trevorzegras: i feel betrayed

— jamie.drysdale: sorry bud...

trevorzegras: but also the guitar on apple pie sounds so good bro congrats

userone: after listening to apple pie, same boat, and pancakes for dinner im sobbing he's so good to her

usertwo: the fact that the fans kept it a secret for them is so sweet 🥲

liked by jamie.drysdale and ynuser

trevorzegras: so when can i meet her?

— jamie.drysdale: come to the kitchen

—— trevorzegras: SHES BEEN HERE THE WHOLE TIME???

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masterlist + who i write for!!!

navigation

a/n: pls submit requests im getting my hair done tomorrow and i'm gonna have nothing to do for HOURS

[chodzacaparodia]

hiii i know i have like 2 things to respond to you about (apologies, i have been traveling for my company's holiday party lol), BUT! since you reblogged the fic writer asks post, i'm going to ask about:

10. what is the longest amount of time you’ve let a draft rest before you finished it?

12. a trope you’re really into right now

13. a fandom you’re thinking about writing for

14. where do you get your inspiration?

17. talk about your writing and editing process

27. your favorite part of the writing process

28. your least favorite part of the writing process

29. how easy is it for you to come up with titles?

feel free to answer any or all of them (i know it's a lot 💀)

hiii ( ﾉ^ω^)ﾉ take your take! I hope you had fun :3

And thank you for the asks 🫶🏻

10. what is the longest amount of time you’ve let a draft rest before you finished it?

Ehhh. It's hard to say? Recently, one of my fics was lying around for about 4 months because I left it to write 2 other fics (which is funny because it was a fic about a divorce and I left it to write a fic about a wedding 🙈)💀 But I have too many unfinished ones, including one that's been waiting for me to get back to it for over a year :')

12. a trope you’re really into right now

Pining!!! I love pining so much, for me it almost always has to be pining! I really love it when one character pines for another. I especially love it, when the character I like more is the object of pining, because I can pour my love for him into the character hahah. Like, bruh, I totally understand why you're so hopelessly in love with that character, I feel the same lmaoo.

But when it comes to reading, I've recently gotten really into the Hanahaki Disease trope and I'm increasingly thinking about finally putting on paper one idea that's been brewing in my head for a long time. But first I definitely have to finish 2 other fics that I'm working on (and in one that I'm working on seriously, there's so much pining that it's embarrassing lmao)

13. a fandom you’re thinking about writing for

I would like to write something from "Shadow of the fox" by Julie Kagawa someday! This fandom is practically non-existent, which is a shame (hellooo, there is Japanese folklore, and even doomed by narrative yaoi lmaoo). Okame and Daisuke deserve their happy story and there are only 11 fanfics about them on ao3 😭

And I would like to write something fro "My Hero Academia" someday! Tododeku is the reason I started reading fanfiction in the first place and it's scandalous that I haven't written anything about them yet

14. where do you get your inspiration?

I wouldn't say I usually get inspiration from anything? It's just that at random moments an idea, scene or dialogue pops into my head and I create a whole story around it. Although often, when I develop these stories, I often draw inspiration from my own feelings or fears or some stupid things I saw on the internet 💀or I happened to write a fic strongly inspired by another anime than the one characters belong to

17. talk about your writing and editing process

As I mentioned earlier, it starts with an idea. A scene or dialogue appears in my head, and I create the rest of the story around it. And that's usually how I start, by describing those scenes and dialogues, and then I create completely different scenes and dialogues. I almost never write in order, they're always random scenes, which I then try to somehow connect into a whole 💀 I often move a given scene to another moment in the fic, depending on where it suits me better.

I edit the text when I translate it into English. I always write the whole thing in Polish first, because it's easier for me to express my thoughts that way, sometimes I add sentences in English right away, because I know they'll fit well there. When the Polish text is finished, I start translating from the beginning. When translating, I immediately correct what was wrong or unfinished (because sometimes I don't finish sentences and break them off halfway 💀). I'm aware that the text won't be perfect, because often what sounds sensible in my language may not make sense in English. But I try 🥹

27. your favorite part of the writing process

When I hit "publish" on ao3 and I know I'm officially done 😭😭 I really like it when the whole thing is done, like a burden is lifted. But I also really like writing dialogue! That's when the characters come alive and show their personality

28. your least favorite part of the writing process

WRITING lmaoo. Writing really is torture, this hobby more gives joy and suffering. And I especially hate writing summaries for stories. Like, I know I spent weeks, months writing these stories, but how do I describe it in a few sentences? How am I supposed to encourage people to read this? Bruh, I spent so much time on this, here's my sweat, blood and tears, if you want to read it, read it, I don't know how else to tell you about it, my dear potential reader 😭 My brain can't handle it

29. how easy is it for you to come up with titles?

The second thing I hate after writing summaries. It takes me too much time. I can write a fic for over a month and spend that time wondering what to name it. Sometimes it happens to me that the title is born right away, usually with the fic idea. But more often, the title waits until I write the whole story and decide what fits it best. I usually have a working title for a story before I change it (I know very well that I'll change it).

Again, thank you so much for asking ♡♡♡

Fic writer asks

[r-2-peepoo]

A pretty good list of the best Codywan fics you will ever read:

I recently noticed I had a very sweet ask about Codywan fics recs but I didn’t realise saving drafts of ask replies wasn’t an option so I accidentally deleted it. If you are the lovely anon who sent that message on (I believe) the 29th of October, I’m sorry for not seeing it sooner, and here is a list for you!! A definitely-not-comprehensive guide to Codywan fics because I'm actually only a few months into shipping them myself. These are just some of my favourites.

I mainly read modern AUs but I’ll try and come up with a good variety so hopefully, there’s something for everyone. Also I’ll @ the writers who have accs on here because they deserve all the praise and credit in the world (but do let me know if you’d prefer to be untagged!!)

Modern AUs

An incredibly sweet oneshot featuring Teacher!Cody hosting a parent-teacher conference and a very overwhelmed Obi Wan trying his best to raise Anakin. The characterisation of Obi Wan in particular just makes my brain go brrrrrrrrrrrr because it reminds me of how he's written in the canon novels, as in you get to see a side of him that isn’t so polished and held together. The most unconventional yet adorable meet-cute ever. I have read it many many times.

THIS FIC. Oh my gosh. I've read it three times so far and I just adore it. It's an AU based on the movie Happiest Season (although I personally think this fic is far better than the movie). I'm always here for Christmas fics and they're always quite hard to find in my experience and yet here is this absolute gem, heavy with plot and drama and the most wonderful use of canon characters and dynamics.

I've spoken about this fic by @kckenobi before and I will do it over and over until everyone on earth has had the privilege of reading it. This is, without a doubt, the best fanfiction I've ever read. I can say that definitively. My recommendation for this would be to download the playlist that goes along with it. There's a link in the notes of the final chapter. Ngl I have Apple Music so I had to individually search for each song and add it to a playlist but it is beyond worth it. Aside from the writing being phenomenal, listening to the songs while reading is honestly life-changing. I have such a soft spot for classical and orchestral music and when I tell you you won't be able to look at any other fic without thinking about what a magical experience this one was, I'm not lying. The Codywan is quite minor compared to the rest of the plot but it is incredibly sweet and feels very natural. This is great if you like Obi Wan-centric fics.

This one is very special to me because it was one of the first fics I ever read in the fandom. This author (I don’t think I can tag them but their user on here is the same as their ao3) in general has been integral to my Codywan journey and there's so many of their works I've had the pleasure of following the publication of in such a short amount of time. Another unconventional meet-cute, which just seems to be a trope that suits this ship down to the ground.

But my personal favourite fic of theirs is Natural Wonders, a Photographer!Cody and Park Ranger!Obi Wan au, because I followed the publication of it from start to end and it was an absolute blast. This author's work ethic is unparalleled. Just take a look at the range of fics they've written. It's seriously impressive. Truly one of the best writers to begin with if you're new to the ship because they've done so much. You’ll be able to find basically any genre you like the most and every single one is insanely well written.

This fic is so sweet that reading it will rot the teeth right out of your head. This is by the wonderful @legobenkenobi who is not only the loveliest person ever, he is also a remarkable writer. Cody and Obi Wan work in a library together, Obi Wan comes in with a cat, which belongs to neither of them, out of absolutely nowhere one day (which is the most in-character thing I’ve ever heard) and the fluff ensues from there. While you’re there, read everything else he’s written because every single fic should be put in a museum.

Canon Compliant/Divergent

Cody and Obi Wan get married by accident. It sounds lighthearted and funny, which it is a little, but it also feels like hugging a thousand knives at once. This author manages to capture the painful longing between the two men that would be present in the canon-verse. It's under 1k words and yet they manages to inflict so much pain so quickly. There's something so delicate about the way they write and it's such a poignant, heartwrenching take on what is usually used as a solely comedic trope. I don’t read angst that often but every word of this was beautiful.

This fic is just... I can't even describe it. It's so in-depth. I feel like you really get to experience the Star Wars universe here. There's so many characters that are usually underutilized in fics, but not here. It features blind Obi Wan and how this affects his experience as a Jedi and as a General. It’s tactful and magnificently written. You really get to go on an adventure with the characters and it's so rich in plot and follows the actual plot of parts of Clone Wars but with such a unique perspective added. The story just slots so nicely into canon. I don't want to spoil too much but it's such a fascinating take on Obi Wan's character. Also!!! It explores so many relationships that canon itself neglects to. My personal favorite other than Codywan is Obi Wan's interactions with Ahsoka. This is still an ongoing fic so get in while you still can. You won't regret it, I promise.

This is also one of quite a few times where I've been a fan of someone's work before joining Tumblr, only to realise after following them that I've been reading their work for ages. @foreverchangingfandomsao3 you are immensely talented. Thank you for writing such an immersive story. I am in love with your take on Obi Wan.

This is another ongoing fic by the lovely @farores-oak-tree. It's a post-order 66 fic and it's so so so good so far. Other than Codywan's inevitable reunion, what I love the most about this is how it uses its other characters. Sabé features heavily and I always wanted to see her again so this was a delightful discovery. Again' I don't to spoil too much because its still being posted but there is such an interesting use of canon events. It's been so much fun so far so please give it a read if you like post-order 66 Codywan. This could be the plot of Kenobi S2 and I would completely believe you. It's so good.

This is another fic I read and absolutely loved and then started following the person who wrote it on here without realising. @frostbitebakery is behind this particular work of art. This is a Sith!Obi Wan AU and honestly it’s the only one you’ll need. I really love the way it’s structured and I don’t know if this makes sense, but this author has something about their writing style that is so careful and distinctive and you can see that same style coming through in their art style too (seriously, have a look at their art, it’s absolutely insane). It’s so detailed and you can feel how much time was spent on it. Such a delight to read.

Another recommendation of a work I’d been subscribed to who I think is actually written by a mutual of mine. I’m not certain about that but regardless, I can’t begin to express how much I love it so far. It’s another ongoing fic. I have a thing for fics that detail how Cody and Obi Wan first meet because canon does nothing to show this. If it turns out this is actually how they met and how things unfolded for them, I would completely buy it. It just suits them so much. It feels so true to their characters. It’s so natural and it flows so well. I could read a thousand chapters of this.

I could recommend so many others but these are the ones I always think of when people ask for recommendations. I think I put the usernames of everyone who has an account on here but I’ll keep looking in case I missed anyone. I’ve been in a lot of fandoms but I genuinely mean it when I say Codywan authors (and artists) are the most accomplished I’ve ever seen.

[fruitcoops]

eve you have been killing the content game lately!!! I have a suggestion for the team to do the cut video where someone guesses their starsigns!!

This was a really interesting fic to write, since I know next to nothing about astrology! It’s also the longest I’ve spent researching for a fic--I will apologize in advance for any errors I made. All the birthdays/ signs came from Haz’s page (@lumosinlove) and SW credit belongs to her! Hope you enjoy <3

Marlene was practically bouncing as the video began. “Welcome back to Lion Pride, everyone! I’m Marlene McKinnon, and I can’t tell you how excited I am for today’s video. Would you like to introduce yourself, Elaine?”

An older woman with her graying hair piled in a bun waved to the camera. “Hello! My name is Elaine, and I’ve been studying astrology for about forty years now.”

“We’re so glad to have to here! Today’s video is going to be a guessing game with some of our Lions players, where you ask them a few questions and then match their zodiac signs.” Marlene handed her a small pile of cardboard signs with strings tied to the tops.

“Oh, this is going to be fun.” Elaine adjusted her reading glasses and flipped through the zodiac cards. “I’ve never done anything like this officially, though it’s a bit of a hobby when I people-watch. Ms. McKinnon, would I be correct in assuming you’re a Leo?”

Marlene’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Uh, yeah, actually.”

Elaine nodded. “I thought so. Alright, where do I start?”

Marlene waved off-screen and seven young men walked in, lining up in a semi-circle behind them. “Take it away, Elaine.”

As Marlene disappeared behind the camera again, Elaine scanned the group. “This is very interesting,” she muttered. “You all play on the same team, yes?”

“We do,” James said.

Elaine’s lips twitched into a smile and she beckoned him forward. “Are you the team captain, then?”

“No,” he laughed. “Assistant captain, though. I’m James.”

“Nice to meet you, James. Were you popular in high school?”

James paused for a moment. “Yeah, I think so. I’ve always been pretty friendly and hockey helped with that.”

“You’re confident, and you don’t like sitting still.” She tapped her chin and gave him a once-over. “Can I take a look at your ears?”

“My ears?” James blinked at her, clearly surprised, but obliged and leaned down to her level.

Elaine made a noncommittal noise. “Ears say a lot about a person. Capricorns often have more vertical ears, but yours are quite round. You strike me as an Aries.”

James hung the sign over his neck and headed back to the line with a smile. “She just called you annoying,” Finn teased, giving him a nudge.

“Oh, no, Aries’ can be lovely people once they mature.” Elaine tilted her head and motioned to Finn. “Could you step up to the plate, dear?”

“Sure thing.” Finn kept his hands in his pockets, but straightened up a bit and rocked on his toes as he took James’ place. “My name’s Finn.”

“You’re certainly a fire sign,” Elaine laughed. “But you’re not quite an Aries. Are you a generally upfront person?”

“Pretty much.”

“What did you want to be as a kid?”

Finn smiled. “Anything where I could be around people.”

She nodded. “I thought so. Are you in a relationship?”

“Yeah, with those two.” Leo and Logan waved and Elaine’s smile widened.

“You’re a Leo, and a lucky one at that.” She carefully slid the sign over his head and patted his shoulder. “Good for you. Could the young man in the black jacket come up next?”

“I’m Sirius, it’s nice to meet you.” He shook her hand before taking a step back.

“Nice to meet you, too. You’re the captain, right?”

He glanced at the camera, surprised. “Uh, yes.”

“Well, you certainly could be another fire sign, but there’s something different…” She trailed off and drummed her fingers on the stack of zodiac cards. “Are you friends with our lovely Aries over there?”

“I’m the godfather to his son.”

Elaine held her hand over her heart. “Oh, that’s so sweet. You’re not another Aries or Leo, then. How much do you value your privacy?”

Sirius snorted. “A lot.”

“Are you in a relationship?”

He held his left hand up with a slight smile and inclined his head toward Remus. “Engaged for about six months.”

“Point him out for me, please.” Elaine kept her eyes on Sirius as he pointed toward Remus, then turned to the camera crew. “Did you all see that?”

Sirius frowned slightly. “See what?”

“You’ve been so tense and focused, but your whole face opened up when you looked toward him. I’m going to guess you’re a Scorpio.” She surveyed the group as Sirius returned to his place, then beckoned to Leo. “You have the prettiest eyes!”

“Oh, thank you.” He blushed slightly. “I’m Leo.”

“It’s lovely to meet you, Leo. Do you believe in astrology?”

He shook his head. “Not really. I think it’s neat, though. Stars are cool.”

“Good. You’re young, and I’m glad you’re not letting it dictate your life.” She scrutinized his face for a moment. “Turn sideways, please. There are certain face shapes that are more common than others for specific signs…if we had an argument, would you apologize to me?”

Leo smiled slightly. “Depends on what it was about. I’m not very confrontational in the first place.”

“So you like keeping things equal?”

“I do, yeah. As you can probably tell, I’m not big on making hard decisions,” he laughed.

She smiled and shuffled through the cards. “I think you’re a Libra, but this was the hardest one yet. Which one is your boyfriend again? Not the Leo.” Her face brightened. “Ha! Leo with a Leo!”

Finn’s face split into a wide grin and Leo groaned. “Oh, god, he’s never going to let that go.”

Logan was still laughing a bit when he walked over. “Bonjour, I’m Logan.”

“Oh, this makes lots of sense.” Elaine looked between the three of them and nodded. “Are you a hothead?”

“Usually.”

“What sets you off?”

Logan exhaled slowly as he thought. “Most fights on the ice come from people pushing me or my friends around. I’m not one of those weird angry guys, though. There’s always a reason.”

“I bet there is.” Elaine laughed a little. “What are your thoughts on liars?”

He made a face. “Nothing good ever comes from lying.”

Elaine hung the ‘Sagittarius’ sign over his head. “If you’re not a Sagittarius, I need to find a new career. Could the Scorpio’s fiancé come up here?”

In his thick sweater and blue jeans, Remus was the polar opposite of Sirius. “My name’s Remus.”

“You are a sweetheart,” Elaine said with a laugh. “Oh my goodness, no wonder he got all mushy! Have you always played hockey?”

“I was supposed to be drafted out of college, but I got injured and became a physical therapist for six years instead. That’s how I met the rest of the guys.”

“Interesting.” She bit her lip. “Why did you choose physical therapy?”

He shrugged. “I wanted to stay close to hockey and help people. It was tough, but it made me happy.”

“Would you say people underestimate you on the ice?”

Remus hummed in thought. “I don’t know. I’m not a big guy, but I’m fast.”

“Well, all your friends are nodding behind you.”

“What?” He turned and they all hid their smiles in their hands. “Guys!”

“They do!” James defended. “Literally everyone we play against underestimates you!”

“Let’s say we get in an argument. Would you apologize to me?” Elaine asked.

Remus raised an eyebrow. “That depends. Was I right?”

“Yeah, you’re a Pisces.” She handed him the card, smiling. “Congratulations on the engagement. We only have one left, correct?”

Kasey shook her hand as he walked up. “I’m Kasey.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Kasey. Do you believe in the zodiac?”

“Nope,” he said. “But my girlfriend does, and she has cool necklaces and stuff.”

“You don’t strike me as a hothead.”

He shrugged. “I’m a goalie. It doesn’t usually come with the job description, but I’d take the gloves off for my friends.”

She flipped through a few of the cards. “You care deeply for them, then?”

“Absolutely. They’re basically my family by this point.”

Elaine hesitated. “This is a tough one. I’m going to go with Taurus, but I’m not one hundred percent sure. Are you patient?”

“With some people, sure. It varies.” Behind him, the others were stifling their laughter. Elaine gave them a look, but hung the Taurus card over his head.

“Alright, that’s everyone,” Marlene said as Kasey rejoined the group. “Raise your hand if she guessed you correctly.”

Five hands went up; only Leo and Kasey stayed still. Elaine clapped her hands happily. “Oh, I didn’t do too badly!”

Marlene ushered them into a line. “So, Elaine, how did you know James was an Aries?”

“He’s just…” She waved a hand in her air. “He’s very confident, though I feel like he’s matured over the past few years. Something big happened in your life that settled you down, right?”

“My son was born just over a year ago,” he said. “That definitely toned me down.”

“Thank god for that.” Finn muttered, giving him a playful nudge. James smacked the back of his head with a grin as he walked to the end of the line.

“It’s a good thing you’ve got your boyfriends,” Elaine said. “Leo’s often struggle with their identity when they’re younger, so it’s wonderful to see you’ve figured things out a bit.”

Finn blinked, dumbstruck. “Am I that much of an open book?”

“Yes,” the other six chorused. He paused for a moment, nodded, and made room for Sirius to step forward.

“Ah, I knew it!” She beamed at him. “Scorpio and Pisces are very compatible.”

“So we’ve been told,” Sirius laughed.

“You’re the hopeless romantic, aren’t you? Making up for lost time?” At his shocked expression, she her smile became gentle. “That’s usually how it goes. Don’t be afraid to be soft, okay?”

“Okay.” He hesitated a moment longer before joining Finn and James at the end of the line; James touched his elbow in solidarity while Leo walked forward.

“Oh, an Aquarius!” Elaine’s eyebrows rose. “I should’ve guessed. Well, that’s a good thing. You’ll be a good counterbalance for the reactive parts of Leos and Sags.”

“Thanks.” He looked faintly amused. “Can I blame Finn’s puns on his zodiac sign?”

She laughed. “Yes, absolutely.”

“It’s good to know there’s a reason for it,” Logan said as he took Leo’s place. “You guessed me pretty fast.”

“You were bluntly honest.” She shrugged. “Sags can be difficult to narrow down, but you fit right in for all the good parts.”

Elaine smiled when Remus stepped up. “You seemed really certain about me,” he said.

“You’re the most Pisces to ever Pisces, dear.”

“Really?”

She nodded. “You’re kind, but I don’t think you take any shit either.” At the back of the line, Sirius barked a laugh. “Oh, and he agrees!”

“He better!” Remus grinned back at him.

Elaine gasped when Kasey held up his new sign. “Really?”

He shrugged. “My girlfriend is a Taurus and some of that might have rubbed off on me.”

“Does she have a big personality?”

“Definitely.”

“Wow.” She gave him a quick once over. “There were some parts of Sagittarius that came through, but you were a tough one.”

“It’s the goalie face,” James called from the back of the line.

“Sorry,” Kasey said. “It’s a habit.”

“No, no, that’s alright.” She stared at him for a second longer before shaking her head. “You’re much softer than most of the Sags I’ve met. It’s hard to believe you and the Energizer Bunny back there share the same sign.”

“Did you have fun, Elaine?” Marlene asked as she collected the zodiac cards.

“I had a wonderful time, thank you so much for inviting me!”

Marlene smiled at the camera . “Thanks for watching, everyone. Be sure to like and subscribe for more Lion Pride content!”

[alltimesos]

Three Thousand- Ashton Irwin

Another fic I found in my drafts ♡ This week is spring break for me so I am hoping to sit down work on a few requests! 🍑

word count: 2.3k

warnings: cursing, brief mentions of unprotected sex, tooth-rotting fluff

“Ashton! Will you come in here for a minute?” you called from the doorway of one of your son’s bedrooms. A few moments later your husband appeared into the room and walked over to you with confusion all over his face.

“What’s going on babes?” he questions, kissing your forehead.

“Will you please tell your firstborn son that fifth grade isn’t scary and he’ll make plenty of friends?” Ashton grins, kneeling in front of the bed to talk to Ethan. You sigh as you walk out of the bedroom, leaning against the wall.

You and Ashton have five kids together. Your eldest son, Ethan is 10, your second-born son, Jaxon is 7, your third-born son, Oliver is 6 and your twin daughters Amelia and Charlotte, are 4. “Mummy! Jaxon stole my toy!” You hear Oliver shout from the room over. You rub your temples before stepping into the boy’s room, to take care of the situation.

+++

The following morning was chaos, to say the least. It was the first day of school and nothing was going right. Your alarm never sounded, meaning you woke up twenty minutes late. You scramble to get out of bed to get dressed and at least attempt to fix your hair.

You jog down the stairs to smell bacon cooking. You furrow your eyebrows as you take the last step, appearing into the kitchen. A huge weight is lifted from your shoulders as you see Ashton standing at the stove, cooking bacon and waffles, not wearing a shirt but your pink apron wrapped around him. You giggle, walking towards Ashton to steal your daily morning kiss. “I didn’t even notice you were missing from the bed,” you tell him against his lips.

“Well, thanks a lot babe,” he replies sarcastically. You giggle once more, wrapping your arms around his neck. He presses his lips against yours slightly pressing you up against the counter.

“Ew!” you hear your small children yell. You push Ashton off of you, turning towards the twins standing in the doorway. “Good morning babies!” you pick both of them up, placing them on each hip. Both of them inherited Ashton’s sandy curls and hazel eyes, which you admired deeply.

“Are you guys excited for your first day of school?!” you ask carrying them upstairs. Charlotte, the older twin, only by a few minutes, nods against your shoulder. “X’cited mummy, I have butterflies in my tummy.” Once you reach the bedroom you place the girls down on their beds. “What about you Miss Amelia?” She was the shyer one of the two, a girl of a few words.

“Nervous, mummy.”

You open the closet door to pick out their outfits for the day. “No need to be nervous, darlings. School is lots of fun and you will make new friends!”

You help both of your daughters get dressed before styling their curly hair. You kiss their cheeks before patting their bum lightly. “Go downstairs, daddy made you breakfast.”

You walk down the hall, knocking on Ethan’s door. A few moments later he opens the door and steps out. “Did you make your bed?” “

Yes, mum,” he groans. You pull him into a hug, kissing the top of his head. “No matter how old you get you will always be my baby. Fifth grade will be awesome!” Much to your surprise, Ethan squeezes you tightly. “I love you, mum.” He lets go of you, grabbing his backpack and going downstairs.

“Hey there rockstar!” you hear Ashton yell at your son. Since Jaxon and Oliver were close in age you allowed them to share a room. The door was wide open already so you walked in, ignoring all of the toys scattered around the room. “Mummy!” Oliver yells running over to you. “Hi, sweetie! Are you almost ready?” Oliver nods, grabbing his backpack. “Daddy made you breakfast!” you barely finished your sentence because Oliver was already running downstairs.

“Is my soon-to-be second grader ready?” Jaxon doesn’t say anything, just pushes past you and walks down the stairs. You stand there confused but don’t say anything.

+++

“All right does everyone have their backpacks and lunches?” Ashton asks before opening the front door. All your kids’ nod, Oliver saying “yep!”

“Okay let me get a picture!” Ashton lines all the kids up by height and snaps a few photos as a group and then individually. “My babies are all grown up.” You laugh, taking Ashton’s hand in yours.

“Okay, let’s go before daddy starts crying.”

The crew gathers in the car with only a slight fuss, the boys arguing who’s going to sit where. You buckle the twins up in their car seats before sliding into the passenger side of the vehicle.

“Let’s rock and roll,” Ashton says pulling out of the driveway. “Gosh, I swear you become cornier by the day,” you joke with him.

The drive to the first stop wasn’t too long. Ethan slipped out of the car after giving you both a kiss on the cheek muttering out a “see you later”. You and Ash call out a “bye have a good day!”

The next two boys get dropped off as well without too much of a hassle. Ashton pulls into a parking space at the last elementary school. The two of you help the girls out of the car, Charlotte grabbing your hand and Amelia grabbing Ashton’s.

The four of you walk into the school, searching for the right classroom. Once you find it, you walk the girls into the semi-quiet room. The teacher walks her way up to the girls, kneeling down. “You must be the Irwin twins! Charlotte and Amelia right?” Charlotte starts babbling her head off while Amelia tucks herself into her daddy’s side.

“I’m Mrs.Penner, I’m very excited to have you guys in class!” Charlotte hugs you and Ashton before grabbing the teacher’s hand. Ashton bends down and picks up his littlest one. “Hey, there pretty girl. Pre-K is gonna be awesome! It’s only for a few hours okay? Mummy and daddy will be here at 12:30 to pick you and Charlotte up!” Amelia nods, snuggling into her dad.

Ashton puts her down after kissing her forehead. She turns to you, hugging your legs mostly. “Bye mummy.” She tells you, turning around to join her sister. “Bye baby.” You whisper back. Ashton wraps his arm around your waist, walking towards the car. Once inside, he high-fives you then pulls you in for a kiss. “We did it, Mrs.Irwin! And we only let out a few tears.”

“Way to go daddy-o!”

When you guys get home you immediately plop down onto the bed with your husband. Ashton sprawls out onto his stomach, one arm around your body. “Hey babe?” he asks. “What’s up?” You answer him, closing your eyes.

“Can we have another kid?”

You lay there for a moment before propping yourself up on your elbows.

“Ashton, we already have five. I don’t think we need any more,” trying to keep your voice calm. He sits up himself as well to look at you.

“But I really want another one. I think it would be great to have a huge family!”

“I don’t know Ash… it just doesn’t seem like a good time to have one.” He nods, crawling on top of you. “But baby, in nine months from now it will be almost June. The kids won’t be in school. It just seems like the perfect time to have one…” You nudge Ashton over so you’re the one on top of him.

“We’ll discuss it later babe. But right now we have three hours to kill before we go pick up the twins.” your voice dropping an octave, sliding your hands up his shirt to feel his abs. Ashton sits up to slide his shirt off and then taking yours off after. His hands rub and down your sides, causing goosebumps to form. “You’re so beautiful babe,” he says honestly. Before having kids you weren’t small and now five kids later, you’re definitely not small. You hadn’t lost all of the baby weight yet from the last pregnancy, due to being a stay-at-home mom.

“Thank you, Ash,” you whisper. He firmly grabs your pudgy waist and flips you onto the bed. He unhooks your bra, setting it aside as well as your panties. He smirks down at you as he tugs his underwear and shorts off. His hand comes to rub circles on your clit, creating a slow movement.

While he thumbs at your sensitive nub he places his head into your neck to suck softly on the exposed flesh. “A-ash,” you moan out. “Feel good darling?” he mumbles against you. “Yes, always so good.” He places a final kiss below your ear before pulling off. You are now dripping wet from him playing with your clit. “Relax baby girl.”

“Fuck..” you whined already needing more of him. Your husband has the power to string you apart like a tangled mess of Christmas lights. You feel Ashton thrust slowly into you, ecstasy building up in your stomach. “What a pretty girl you are,” he compliments you, quickening his pace. “Such a good girl taking me like this.” He leans down to suck on your nipples, the wetness of his tongue sliding around on your skin.

You groan, knowing you’re going to cum any moment now. It had been a while since you and Ash had some intimate time. Any time you were without kids the two of you always caught up with each other or took a nap. It’s always quick handjobs or sloppy blowjobs before the kids wake up.

You still yourself as Ashton slows his pace, dragging out the moment and all you can think about is how sweet his release will be. “Ashton please,” you beg but words are broken. “Please what?” he prompts. “Please go f-faster” you moan and your husband finally picks up his pace. With one hard thrust that has your vision dancing, Ashton is releasing a hot load inside of you, making you cum as well. He pulls out of you, caressing your cheeks, words of praise escaping his lips. He helps you get dressed and he slips his clothes on too. You are lying on your back with Ashton on his side next to you. “My pretty girl,” Ashton whispers and you beam back at him. “I love you.” He kisses your cheek, sliding underneath the covers, catching up on some sleep before you two go pick up the twins.

+++

The first month of school goes by smoothly. It is now a Saturday morning and you have family pictures planned. You usually do it during the fall but decided to do it this year with the weather being warm. Everyone is dressed in matching colors, you and the twins are wearing sundresses, the boys and Ashton wearing colored short-sleeved button-ups and jeans. As you’re putting on your last earring, Ashton sneaks up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist.

"My beautiful wife. Still looking good even at thirty.”

You and Ashton had started your family young, with Ethan going to be eleven soon. You turn around and pecked his lips, grabbing your shoes on the way out of the bedroom. “Boys, let’s turn on the video games please.”

“But mummy-” Jaxon starts.

“Boys. The video games will be here when we get back, please listen to your mummy,” Ashton warns them lightly. The boys nod and turn the television and game console off, standing by the front door. Amelia grabs your hand, wanting to be picked up. “You’re so pwetty, mummy.” You smile and kiss her cheek. “You’re so pretty too, miss Amelia.” Ashton locks the front door behind everyone and helps the girls into their car seats. The car ride to the fairgrounds was thankfully short, Oliver becoming somewhat fussy.

“I think it’s really cool we’re doing carnival-themed pictures!” Ashton tells you after getting everyone out of the car.

“Yes! I’m very excited. It was time for a change.”

After meeting up with the photographer, an old friend of yours, she snaps a few photos of the boys and the girls. She takes some of just you and Ashton and then Ashton with the boys. After she snaps a few of you and the twins, she lines you up in front of the Ferris wheel for a family photo.

With everyone in position, she says “ 1, 2, 3, Y/N’s pregnant with twins!” the camera clicks.

Everyone’s heads whip in your direction. “Did she just say you’re pregnant with twins?” Ashton asks you, eyebrows furrowed. You nod excitedly as he picks you up to twirl you around. You can hear the photographer taking pictures of the precious moment. “How long have you known?!” his voice high and squealy.

You giggle as Ashton puts you down, giving you another kiss. “Just a few days. I called Lindy, our photographer, and told her and she came up with this idea!”

Charlotte comes up to you, tugging the end of your dress. “Mummy? What’s going on?”

Ashton smiles brightly and kneels down to meet her at eye level. “You’re going to have either little sisters or brothers, or one of each! Mummy has babies in her tummy!”

Amelia and Charlotte pat at your stomach while the boys surround you with a hug. After taking more photos, you and Ashton treat the kids to ice cream.

They all sit in the booth next to yours and Ashton’s, talking about names for their future siblings. Ashton smiles and leans over to you, wiping the chocolate ice cream off your chin.

“I have some pretty powerful sperm,” he whispers in your ear and plants a kiss on the side of your face.

Your hand meets the bottom of his ice cream cone, the cold cream hitting him in the face. Ethan looks over and says, “look at daddy!” The rest of the table laughs, smearing their own ice cream on their face. You chuckle, watching this perfect family of yours, knowing this is true happiness.

Taglist:

@hoodhoran

@suchalonelysunflower

[marichat-verse]

Mist Memories

Leo Valdez x reader for his birthday ahhhh (even though it's angsty) with a platonic/developing jason x reader cameo at the end (lmao im sorry i couldn't help myself 😭)

Based on this picture I found in pinterest + also [kinda] based on traitor by olivia rodrigo and omg i really recommend u guys listen to this edit because it reminds me so much of this fic that's been stuck in my head for MONTHS also kind of a run away with me prologue lol

Your POV

I nervously made my way across the forest until I reached a limestone cliff. I knocked on the iron door, not really expecting to get an answer.

My boyfriend has been shutting himself in Bunker 9 for the past few weeks. I stood there counting up to seven before knocking again. I knocked again two more times, until he answered in the middle of my last knock.

He removed his goggles and winced as sunlight hit his eyes. He'd grown thinner and paler, making the dark circles in his eyes more pronounced.

"Oh, Leo..." I reached out to brush a few strands of hair away from his face, but he moved away.

"What are you doing here?" He said in a monotone voice.

I moved to walk inside the Bunker, brushing off his hesitation to let me in. "I'm your partner, remember? And I'm really concerned because you're shutting yourself out lately. You know everyone's starting to worry about you. Percy asked me to check on you because you missed pegasus riding with him. Oh, and I'm pretty sure Jason's coming back from Camp Jupiter soon. I was hoping you and Annabeth could be with Piper while Percy and I hung out with Jason because it's been a little awkward since their breakup. Plus Piper wanted to tell you something—"

"Please," he said forcefully causing me to stop and look at him. "Just... Get out."

Normally, he'd shut himself from the world for a few days to work on an important project or because he was feeling really sad and he needed space. But this was getting out of hand. He had never locked me out of his life when I offered to help him. He was never this mean when he asked for space. I was not having this attitude of his.

"Okay, Leo. I tried to play nice. What is so important that you blow off all your friends for nearly a month that you can't even tell your partner, or maybe say hi to your best friend who's coming back from the other side of the country?"

He didn't say anything. He pursed his lips and avoided eye contact. I scanned he room for any signs.

It was messier than usual with all the crumpled paper scattered on the floor, especially on his desk. He could have been drawing up new plans. Something in my gut told me that something wasn't right. There were no new unfinished projects, indicating that he wasn't starting a new invention. Harley's helicopter lay on his bench in the same state it was weeks ago. Huh, not even his siblings could enter the Bunker.

I turned and Leo was already changing Festus' oil. I took this moment of distraction to pick up a few pieces of crumpled paper on the floor and on his desk. I had to process the words a bit longer—too long that Leo took notice. Damn dyslexia.

I heard footsteps speed up behind me, but it was too late. I read enough and got the gist of what he had been trying to do these past few weeks.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" He yelled at me. Small embers started to erupt between his curls.

I laughed dryly. "So this is what you've been up to?"

His fists tightened, further crumpling the paper in his hands. His eyes flashed with anger, despair and confusion.

I sighed and focused my eyes on his desk, not daring to look at him any longer. Under some pieces of paper were old photographs of him and Piper from Wilderness School. Yup, those definitely were the mist memories she had with Jason. I read the latest draft he'd been writing:

Dear Piper,

Remember the mist memories from boarding school with Jason? They were real, but they were with me.

I miss you. I miss when it was just us. I miss the night on the roof.

Yours truly,

Leo Valdez

I tried to keep my voice from cracking. "How long?"

I heard him sigh. "Three weeks."

I balled my fists. Tears started to fall and smudge the ink. I wiped them away as fast as they came.

"How?"

"In a dream," his tone softened now. "Hera came to me in a dream and told me to check an old drawer in Bunker 9. I found the photos and the memories came rushing back."

"How long were you dating back then?"

"Two weeks."

"Were you ever going to tell me?"

Silence; then a deep breath.

"No."

I shook my head in disbelief. "Why?"

"Because I knew you'd get upset like—"

"I meant why would you throw away months of our relationship for a couple of weeks of your relationship with her? And without even bothering to tell me? Gods damn it, Leo. We've been together since you've first arrived at camp. And what about those promises you made when we were sailing to Greece? You've been keeping these feelings away from me and you've been lying to me, making me believe that there's still something between us and—"

"Oh, calm down," he said with an annoyed expression and tone, which only infuriated me more, "it's not like I did anything were her yet! I didn't kiss her or tell her how I truly felt for her! She just got out of a relationship with Jason around the same time I had that dream. I had to figure out how to talk to her about it. I've been alone in this Bunker for three. Fucking. Weeks. I didn't cheat on you."

"Oh, and that makes everything better?" I countered. "Being in a relationship isn't about not cheating, Leo. It's about being honest and communicating with each other."

"Oh, like you've been communicating with me? After the war, you take go back to Manhattan for school, and you take a job. I haven't seen you much during the holidays because work has been keeping you in the city. And you won't tell me what you even do for a living!"

I took in a deep breath. "I told you I needed to have a life outside of camp! I needed to know first that I could handle myself in the mortal world as a normal human being. I needed this demigod part of my life to be separate as much as possible! I've been in two wars, Leo. I needed time to myself, too. And I was about to tell you guys in a few more days. But I guess now, I'm glad I've kept you out of that part of my life. At least I have an escape from all of this. And now, especially from you."

I took another deep breath and walked to the door, about to let myself out. I turned back again, both our tear-stained eyes meeting each other.

"If it makes you feel any better," I said softly, "I would've hated the idea of us breaking up. But if you really love her, if you really feel like you have this special connection to her and she makes you happy, then I won't get in your way. You could at least have had the decency to talk to me so we could have left on a good note."

He looked at me with wide eyes, clearly regretting his actions. I sighed and looked around the Bunker, possibly for the last time. Lots of memories were definitely created in this room; all just as grand and meaningful as the inventions they made here. But just like some of Hephaestus' contraptions, some of them were flawed and dumped in his scrapyard, no matter how much potential it could have had.

"Goodbye, Leo."

I sat on a rock on the beach that gave me a beautiful view of Long Island Sound. To my left, the sun started to set, casting an orange filter on everything. My heart broke, remembering how everything glowed orange in the Bunker. Leo always left the fires burning when he was working. The sunlight twinkling against the sea reminded me of how small bits of flame peaked through his hair earlier. I remembered how mad he was at me. Or maybe he was mostly mad at himself.

"Hey."

I jumped when someone sat—or rather, landed—beside me. I turned and smiled, seeing one of my good friends back at camp.

"Hey, you're back," I said weakly. "How long have you been here?"

He smiled at me, although he could maybe sense that something was wrong. "Half an hour, maybe? I saw Annabeth making plans to expand camp to have a city. She made me do an aerial inspection and I told her I'll get back to her tonight. That's when I saw you."

"Mhmm," I mumbled, not really knowing what to say. It was silent for a few minutes before I spoke up again, knowing he was just waiting for me to open up.

"I broke up with Leo."

His head quickly turned to me. I guess he wasn't expecting it to be that bad. "What?"

"Oh yeah," I laughed dryly. "Turns out the mist memories Piper had in Wilderness School with you? They were real. But not with you."

His eyes widened. "Oh... With Leo."

"He locked himself in the Bunker for weeks trying to write a letter. It was heartbreaking. Like, truly heartbreaking. He wanted to tell her how much he missed her and how much he missed them. Then he said how much he missed that night with her under the stars and... It hurt. Like hell."

"Oh," he said. "I guess Piper didn't tell me everything then."

"She knew all along?"

He shook his head. "Maybe not everything, but she told me she's been confused about her feelings lately and she'd been having visions or dreams of possible old memories that were messing with her head."

"I'm sorry about you and Piper," I said.

"Don't be," he said. "I understand her. It did hurt, though. But I think I can get over it some day. We're still awkward around each other, but at least we left on a good note."

I scoffed. "Leo couldn't even give me a good ending to our relationship."

"Hey," he said as he put a hand on my shoulder. "You're a great person, y/n. You've done so much, especially for him. It's his loss that he was stupid enough to let go of you."

"I know that."

"Do you really?"

"I do!" I said. "I'm a great person and I know that. But that doesn't mean what he did doesn't hurt me."

"I know," he said. "You'll find someone who'll treat you like the queen that you are. You're a great person, and I'm not just saying this to cheer you up. I truly think you're amazing."

I smiled at him. "Thanks, Jason. And you'll find someone great, too. Maybe not as great as me but, then again, who is?"

We both let out a laugh. The conch sounded in the distance, signaling dinner. I moved to stand up before hearing Jason speak up again.

"Hey, do you maybe want to just grab a couple of plates and eat out here?"

I smiled. "Yeah. That sounds good. I don't really want everyone else hounding me about the breakup right now."

I don't know how long it was going to take me to get over Leo. We really did gave something special. It was cruel how the universe gave me something so good, to make me have hope that something was finally going right, then have it yanked away from my arms just as suddenly as it came.

He never cheated on me, but that didn't mean he didn't betray every promise we made to each other. I should have known it was too good to be true. Life has always played cruel jokes on me.

Then again, who's to say that things won't turn out for the better, right?

•••

Tagging: @drvrslcense @bubblybubbubs @dreamerball @quteez @aesthetxcimagines @chasingpj @beingleft @wadewilsonsgreatestfriend

[mxvladdy]

Diavolo- True Form

Whoooooooo weeeee! ‘Pologies for the wait on these longer posts. I’ve been hit with a one two punch of house emergencies and sudden costly ass repairs, so my creative juices have been rightly squashed as of late.

Plus side I got my drawing tablet and drafting table back so I can neaten up my blog lay out now (yay!) 

Anyway this one was a challenge in the best possible ways. I really like Diavolo because of how little we know about him so it gave me some wiggle room. Or at least what I know of him- im only on like chapter 23 of the stories. Idk if I did him justice as this is angsty af but I sure had a blast writing it!

Hope ya like! Next up: Beelzebub 

Trigger warning: Mention of blood, and swearing. 

Diavolo-

He'll never show you, so don't ask. His true form is god-like in its own right and such knowledge, such truly raw demonic power in its natural form is not for your mortal eyes.

No matter what your lineage, it would break you. And despite his roles and being the literal devil, he doesn’t want you suffering.

Sometimes when he thinks you wouldn't notice he relaxes his hold on reality, just a fraction. He wants to relieve some of the tension that is always building just below the surface. Like closing your eyes when you have a tension headache. The mental energy he has to exert to keep face is enormous. Regular glamour doesn’t work nearly as well as his own, or Barbato’s magic.

But you see hints during your downtime spent in his company. A ripple in his reflection on the window pane. Unexplainable shadows dancing across his exposed skin. Too many teeth in his mouth when he laughs. Sometimes when you stare into his eyes you see something indescribable staring back behind them. His usually warm and inviting gaze darkening. A barest flicker, a hulking bestial thing kept locked behind in his golden gaze. It's enough to freeze the blood in your veins.

On certain nights when you can slip away from the brothers you stay in his room. Lying  awake, you watch his magic wane and shift as he slumbers. Sometimes you see runes, or at times letters. You are tempted to write them down and ask Solomon. But something stops you each time.

The worst images are the faces. Unknown souls trapped beneath his flesh clawing to be freed. Silent screams fading back into his body as he dreams. Your fragile fingers trace the patterns they leave as you wait for the next day wrapped in his embrace.

Only once have you seen more of his form then he would ever wish. The depths of his strength and mental fortitude were unknown to you so the slip up took you both by surprise. He masks the error well, but the sudden shift in energy in the room couldn’t be suppressed .

You are suddenly so aware of the oppressive weight of gravity on your frame. Your bones grinding together under the force of his aura. You panic, desperate by the need to breathe, but are unable to draw even the smallest bit of oxygen as it is robbed from the room. Time and reality wrapped too, distorting in ways only you thought only Barbatos could do. You knew in that moment the sudden dread of death, how mortally was but a rusty shackle tethering you down.

He collects himself, dispelling the energy and locking his glamour down tight to protect you. But that split second of fury felt like an eternity to you as you sink to the floor. You hiccup a shaky sob and shiver. Your fragile human mind bowing under the strain of what it cannot comprehend. Scolding hot tears fall from your cheeks, before splashing crimson the stone below you.

You didn't approach him again for over a month. No matter how strong you are, some things were better off unseen.

Mini Fic

He didn’t know. For once in his ancient pitiful existence, he had been unaware of his surroundings. It had been for just a moment, one tiny crack in his veneer. The foolishness of Mammon and Belphegor’s actions finally poked the right nerve. He wouldn’t hurt them, for Lucifer’s sake. That prideful demon would never forgive him if he did. But he could scare them. A quick look at his true self; a flash of the deepest bowels of hell. Enough to give them a reminder of their positions and standing in his court. He had expected their whimpers of fear, could taste the acidic tinge of it exuding from their pores. What he didn’t expect though was your blood curdling screams alongside.

Ironically, he would have to thank the second eldest later. His fast thinking is the only thing that saved you from complete damnation. His body shielded yours, taking the brunt of the stronger daemons hellish might for you. What little magic Mammon still had left used to protect you. Though, while your vision was blocked, you could still feel his oppressive presence. It racked your mortal flesh. Diavolo knew what affects his power had on humans. He spent years breaking and consuming damned souls with zeal after all.

The brothers had run from him after that, screaming for Simone. Barbatos following close behind, a look of consternation on his usually impassive face. You had been so limp in Mammon's arms. Diavolo could do nothing, shocked by his own weak will and realization that he might have ruined everything. You had been whisked away so quickly by his faithful servant and the brothers that he hadn’t had a chance to look you over himself. But the brief moment he saw will haunt him for years to come. Your eyes red from the sudden haemolacria, the blood staining your clothes and face. Your fingers digging away at your soft skin, black and purple blotches staining what he could see. Mouth opened wide on a silent scream. He knew what you must have seen. The souls of the damned trapped under his glamour breaking free to latch on to your unmarred soul trying to drag you back with them.

Against his butler's advice he stands at your door now days later trying to see you. He couldn’t sit around and just hear updates second hand. The brothers had been keeping guard most days in a valiant attempt to keep him away. But he could only be waylaid for so long before he used his rank against them.

He had arranged a full council meeting. Every one of the brothers knowing full well it was to get them out of his way. Yet, the order was absolute. This time none of the brothers could reject it. Barbatos would keep them in that room for eternity if he so wished for it. He hated using his age and power against them, but he saw no other way to get to you.

It was foolish now, standing as he was in front of your door. A part of him hoping you would turn the knob and let him in. Let him comfort you for once, instead of the asinine distractions the brothers offered. He could help too. Hells, he wanted to. He wanted to be closer to you. Power discrepancy be damned. The other part of him knowing it was for the best that you didn’t. Your guardian and tormentor all in one. He listens to your muffled sobs for a moment fighting with his feet to stay cemented to the floor instead of heading back in defeat.  

"When my father was still around he took me down to the deepest depths of the kingdom. Where the worst of the traitors and sinners are imprisoned." His deep baritone rumbles through your door during a break in your crying. "It’s a place few seldom go; even now I have yet to return. Back then he told me ‘there will never be a human soul that is undeserving of punishment. Even the ones destined for the celestial realm are tethered to sin.’ At that time I believed him. The things I saw in your realm... " The prince chuckles wearily.

He remembers the ever present scowl on the old King's face. His dark eyes looking out at the sea of damned souls he controlled. Even as a young daemon, fresh into his wings and still sharpening his horns to impress others he could tell how much his father detested his position. How it had warped him, turning him bitter and cold, even to his mate and only child.

Diavolo never wanted to be like that. Not to the ones he supposedly cared for at the very least. "I think that is why he hated the other realms so much.” He continued. “Humans, for their ability to choose which realm they would eventually end up in after they pass. That even the worst sinners could find redemption enough at the last moment to get to the pearly gates. While daemons, no matter how well they served, or the duties they did for the good of their own would never be seen as equals to our celestial counterparts or yours. That this existence is all we'll ever be destined to have. Nightmares and monsters, stories to tell little human children to keep them in line.” He pauses, collecting himself. “I believed wholeheartedly that every human deserved the punishments only my kind could dowel out. But, in this past year I have spent with you, I find myself changing. You are so undeserving of such torment. Somehow you are understanding and forgiving beyond measure to us. You handle our ill tempers with such grace. For daemons such as us, it is staggering, and humbling. I regret that I have hurt you so deeply and have broken your trust. I swear it as the head of this realm I would never intentionally do so." He looks at the door handle willing it to open. " I am so sorry."

Your crying picks up again. Huge heaving sobs that rattle your chest. Great Father, he just keeps making it worse. Clearing his head Diavolo turns.

Rejection of this nature was new to him. No one had ever dared to ignore him, especially such as this. The royal in him- his father's blood- seethed that he would even stoop so low as to grovel to a short lived thing like yourself. Even deeper yet, it demanded another taste of your essences. You little soul kept safe behind your rib cage. He wanted it added to his collection, kept tucked away deep within his maws.

It was sick; it was wrong. He chokes on the idea. The intrusive thought burrowing deep. How deplorable was he? Perhaps the angels were right to keep him out of heaven.

You didn't show to class the following day, or the days after. Unsurprising to him and the seven of the inner council. He figured the other day wouldn’t change anything. But it was utter agony to him. These days trapped in his office only getting short and curt updates on your health from Lucifer. It had been a special kind of torment.

Today he sat once again at his desk staring at some godforsaken bitching of a royal cousin. He knew this whelp. Some backwater thrice removed eons ago. Yet he was demanding an audience? The gall. The ink of their eligible handwriting makes him cross eyed. Would this day ever cease? He looks to his hourglass, the sands within seemingly frozen in time.

"My Lord, perhaps you should take a moment to stretch your legs?" Barbatos moved from his corner. Gloved hand coming to rest on top of the same three lines he had been reading for the past two hours. "This work could wait another evening I’m certain ."

"Did I do the right thing my friend?" Diavolo doesn't even bother answering the question his servant posed. They both knew he wouldn't. "This program. Our human exchange students. Solomon is one thing, but-"

"Your will and path is absolute." Barbatos states. "There are no mistakes within you, merely stumblings onto different paths."

With a gentle push Barbatos moves the hulking demon out of his way to collect and organize the scrolls and letters scattered about the large desk. "You made the right choice bringing them here. Look at what they have done. They are entertainment to you are they not?"

The prince rose knocking his desk aside and descended on his butler. His true form out in all its unholy glory now. His highly condensed magic distorting the study as if he was a black hole. The axis of the room shifts. His priceless collection of books and toys disintegrating from the cold radiation he emits.

It was all for show really. There was nothing he could do to an ancient being such as Barbatos. So he lashed out, throwing a tantrum in the security of his office. The hopeless agitation he felt fueling the flames of his rage. His butler had only added holy water to his already festering wounds.

Barbatos had been by his side for time in memoriam. The crafty bastard had helped raise him. Had shaped him into the ruler he was today. If anyone could break and remold him it would be his oldest companion.

The dark haired daemon waited for the waves of agitation to dry up. Moving only when the prince was in his more presentable demonic form. Large barrel chest heaving as he reined himself in. “Are you back to your senses?” He asks coolly, already categorizing the items to replace and furniture to be mended.

"I had not meant for it to go like this."  Diavolo croaks into his hands collapsing back on what remained of his desk. Building a bridge between realms, yes. That noble idea was the greater purpose of this program, but the rest of it. The classes, and dances. The parties where he threw his newest toys about to see how they would react to things other mortals worshiped? That had been for his own curiosity and amusement. Lesser beings navigating a foreign world blind to the dangers that were right under their very nose. Bring a mortal with no magic into his realm? Deep down he knew this was an inevitability. Especially with the freedoms he granted them. He just didn’t think he would get so attached.

“No one believes that you would hurt them on purpose.” His butler cuts off his downward spiral. “It would ruin the program. That is what you are so stressed about, right?” Barbatos eyes him skeptically. Diavolo, himself, and Lucifer had spent many sleepless weeks constructing and negotiating this program. If the Arch Angels heard a mortal was hurt down here it could very well end this little escapade. But the look in the prince’s eyes told a different story.

A warm glow emanated from his cheeks and he was unable to meet the old daemon’s gaze. Ah. "Or perhaps things have changed?" Barbatos smiles coyly up from beneath his bangs. "You are your mother's son after all. Neither of you were ever able to stem your bleeding hearts for long." Diavolo squawked indignantly but didn’t argue. Instead he merely turns a darker shade of red and curses under his breath.

He skipped out on court that evening. Not that he cared much. The other nobles would no doubt use the time to gossip about his whereabouts and uncouth behavior of late. Truth be told, he was avoiding the brothers more than anything else. They had made it expressly clear (some more then others) how they felt about him currently. He wouldn't doubt that Belphegor had a few more brothers on his side now.

Instead he stood at your door once more with a tea tray in hand. He had bumped into Simone on the way. The angel had come to bring you dinner and to check up on the last of your wounds. Celestial magic worked miracles on those who have been touched by the darker arts. Diavolo was grateful for his talents. And, by some miracle, Simone had made it abundantly clear he was not going to bring this to the higher ups on his end either.

Upon seeing the prince slinking up the house's stairwell the other man had simply smiled and offered him the tray. “I suddenly got a message from Luke. Could you perhaps drop this by our friend’s door?” Diavolo had accepted without preamble, large hands dwarfing the platter of little tea cakes and sandwiches. The young cherubs work no doubt. His cooking was a fine treat, and a great incentive to at least open the door.

“Hello again.” He knocks twice. “I just wanted to check in on you. I know I am the last person you wish to see but I was hoping to talk?” Silence greets him. Were you awake? He breathes deeply and focuses on picking up your vitals. You were up, your heart thumping steady somewhere in the room. That was good. “I also have dinner for you. Simone had an urgent matter to attend to so he- for better or worse- entrusted this to me.”

Diavolo searches hopelessly for something else to say. He couldn’t just leave the food and go. He needed to see you. “I don’t plan on staying long today. I understand when I am not wanted, but I cannot help myself but be worried for you. Perhaps this is just me contritioning, because I know I caused this. The amount of times I have been called a ‘ass’ by Solomon over this have been staggering.” He rambles. After another bout of silence from your end he coincides. “I see- I will leave the food by the door and let you rest.” Defeated he puts the food down and turns to leave.

The door clicks open slowly. One bloodshot eye peeking through the crack. “Oh mio piccolo mortale.” He loses his grip on your shared tongue at a loss. You looked- you must have been in the hall longer then he or the brothers had known. Such damage couldn’t be done in a few moments. Your skin was healing as nicely as Lucifer had said, but the deep purple scarring still remained on the surface. The burn pattern of it all was random. Twisting wounds that reflected an oily sheen from the light of the hallway. “I-.”

“I know-” You cut him off with a raised hand. “and I feel as though I owe you an apology too.” Your voice was so weak and shaky. A mockery of your normally strong and jovial tone. Hearing you laugh at school had brightened the dreary halls. He hadn’t realized it until you weren't there.

“You owe me nothing.” Diavolo says in earnest. He watches you contemplate your next words before throwing whatever you were going to say away.

“Would you like to come in?” Your eyes drop to the tray. “Luke always makes more than I can eat.”

“I don’t think that would be wise.” He backs out. All his plans crashing and burning around his feet. His actions had been irreparable.

“Perhaps not,” You open the door wider taking the tray and heading to your side table, leaving him no room to argue. “But then again, being a lamb among such wolves as yourself and the brothers isn’t smart either.” You meant it as a joke but he couldn’t even muster a chuckle. It was true. Gods. “Dia-” You approach him again but falter at the last second.

As much as you wanted to be close to him again the memories were still so fresh in your mind. The cold hell fire of his magic ensnaring you, searing your skin. The whispered words of sinners long since past still echoing in your head, all in languages you’ve never heard before. The worst though had to be the screaming. Lost souls begging for help. Some sounded so familiar…You shutter involuntarily.

You wanted to hate him for this. Curse him for putting you through this pain. But how much could you blame him? Or any of them? They were daemons. Whether he meant to hurt you or not, it truly had only been a matter of time before it happened. It would be hypocritical of you to fear or hate him forever over this. Six of the seven brothers have threatened your life before, and you have forgiven them. Hell, one of them actually killed you. What’s more was that Diavolo’s wrath hadn’t even been directed at you.

Wrong place at the right time; seemed to be your forte. “Please, come in.” You repeat again firmer than before mustering up either courage or sheer human stupidity to order him in. You couldn’t tell the difference anymore. “We need to talk.”  

He enters, following at your heel like a lost puppy. All air of princedom gone as you clicked the door shut. Diavolo fiddles with his hands, old habits from childhood coming with his nerves. He didn’t know what to expect anymore. Yelling? Some kind of beratement? A plea to go home and never look back?  He would let you.

You pass by him, giving him a large berth of space to get to your seat. “Tea?”  

Diavolo jerks his head to you. He had forgotten momentarily the plate of food he had used to get access to you. You smile sheepishly pushing it and a plate of sweets towards him with your unbandaged knuckles. He doesn’t move till your hand retracts back to your lap. You jerk your head to the open seat waiting for him. You weren’t going to take no for an answer.

“I- thank you.” The daemon sits making himself as small as possible in the straight back chair. He takes the porcelain and drinks mindlessly. The scalding hot tea doing little to help the tightness of his throat, but it did thaw some of the ice in his mind.

“Are-how…” He fumbles so unsure of what to do next. “I see you’ve been keeping up with your school work.” Diavolo closes his eyes, wincing internally at his words. That’s what he comes up with? Idiotic.

You smile anyway, eyeing the massive pile of books and paperwork spewn about your bed. “Yeah. I’ve taken to doing my school work with Levi in his room. Mammon and Beel are nice enough to drop it off to the teachers when they are due.” He nods. He knew this of course. But it was nice to hear it from you. But yet, you don’t meet his eyes. Far too afraid to see what hid behind them.

The thought of being dragged back into those dark depths again makes your pulse quicken. You instead stare at your nail beds, finding them more interesting. They were purple now. The nails stained black by the contact with his magic. “Will- will that go away?” He asks. Demonic curses or taints were nigh impossible to remove fully. Disgustingly, he hoped they didn’t. Then your nails would match his. The darker depths of his soul coo at the idea, happy that in a small way every daemon would know your his. Not as good as a pact, but as close as he could get to being a part of your little mortal life.

“I’m not sure.” You reply honestly bringing your hands up to place them on the table. “Simone and Solomon have done what they could. But, it is as good as it’s going to get for now. They say it could fade with time.” You look up at him, eyes gazing to the left of his face. “Luke thinks I should see a stronger angel.” Diavolo winces, the thought stung, and terrified him. “I told him no.”

That surprised him. This was your chance. The celestial realm had been skeptical from the beginning. If they knew, it would be a perfect caveat for them to step in. “Why?” Finally you look at him. The fear was still there. Hesitation evident in your eyes. Yet you forced yourself to look at him, fighting through your trepidation.

“Did you mean what you said earlier? About your father and what you think of me?”

“Of course.” He replies without hesitation reaching for your cold hands. You flinch but don’t move away. It felt-nice. His warmth chasing away the perpetual chill that covered your fingertips. Idly you stroke his strong hands with your thumbs.

“Then, I think we can work on this privately.” Slowly but surely you felt like you could fix this. Not for the program, but for yourself.  

[manikas-whims]

Troublesome New Girl

Sequel to A Place Good Enough

[Read on AO3]

Characters: Inej Ghafa, Jesper Fahey, Kaz Brekker

Summary: Inej has newly joined the Dregs. She goes to return Kaz's coat in the presence of many members. *cue the teasing & jokes*

Jesper meets Inej & evidences of Jesper's crush on Kaz (tiny bit of angst).

Kaz is his usual self & sets an example. A violent one :)

Note:

I just noticed this complete written fic has been sitting in my drafts for a month now. I'm so dumb 〒_〒

PLEASE DO READ THE PREVIOUS PART IN THIS SERIES TO UNDERTAND THIS SEQUEL.

Hope you guys enjoy!

Inej

The constant noise of banging against wood rouses Inej from her sleep. She looks around haphazardly only to find herself lying on a cot in an unknown room, her torso covered by a grey coat. Sun's rays blind her eyes momentarily as she turns her face, an open window staring back at her, not the daunting walls of the Menagerie. Memories of the previous night flood back and her shoulders deflate in relief. She takes a long breath to calm her rapidly beating heart. She doesn't need to endure Heleen's beatings or sell her body anymore. She is free of that life. Free.

“Oi new girl!” a voice calls, followed by more knocking at the wooden door to her small room. “Brekker told me to bring you some clothes. I’m leaving a pair out here.”

Right! Kaz Brekker had promised her better clothes. She leaves the comfort of the cot but by the time she unlocks the door to thank whoever was on the other end, the person is gone. She catches a short glimpse of a feminine figure with blond hair at the stairs and vows to thank her later. Picking up the clothes, she closes the door.

Jesper

When Jesper had heard his fellow Dregs gossiping about Dirtyhands bringing back a girl with him late at night, he hadn’t given it much thought. He had ignored Anika when she had said that she was literally asked by Kaz himself to provide the said girl with some clothes. In fact, he had completely shooed away anyone who came up to fill his ears with rumors about this unknown Suli girl and the bastard of the barrel. So when a small, bronze-skinned girl bumps into him on the third floor of the Slat, he's stunned.

"Ohhh—", The girl waves her hands frantically, her pupils dilating in concern, "I'm sorry."

But Jesper doesn't bother with apologies for he's too busy appraising her. Now she does match the rumored descriptions and is even donning Anika's lame clothes. But what actually piques his interest is a neatly-folded coat in the deepest shade of grey held between her dainty hands. He doesn’t need to think long to guess who it belongs to. There’s only one person who doesn’t indulge in the colorful fashion sense of the barrel— Kaz “Dirtyhands” Brekker.

He feels his insides fuming. But no way is he going to act like an idiot and jump to conclusions. Just because here's a girl he’s never seen before and she happens to have a coat, doesn’t mean that every single narrative he's heard about this whole situation is true.

He narrows his eyes in what he assumes is his best look of suspicion as he towers over the girl. “Where did you get that?”

"Um", she looks down at the piece of clothing and mumbles in the most innocent tone, "Mr. Brekker lent it to me."

Mr. Brekker!? The hell kinda way is this to address a man you slept with? Or whatever the heck it is that Dirtyhands prefers to do with girls..

"Why?" he asks. From Jesper's experiences, the young lieutenant of the Dregs isn't big on kindness. "Why did he lend it you?"

The girl's brows narrow in thought. It seems she herself is unsure of the reason. Her left palm clutches her right forearm in apprehension. "I guess..because I wasn't in a very decent attire."

Alarms go off in Jesper's head again. What exactly happened between her and Kaz? His heart needs answers yet he knows that its none of his business so he suppresses the unease welling in his belly.

"Well Kaz is up there." He gestures in the direction of the attic. "I'm headed there right now so I can give it to him."

The girl frowns. "I can't let a stranger do that for me. Besides," she twirls a strand of her hair, her eyes alight with some indescribable emotion, "I must properly thank him myself."

Jesper is familiar with this look. It mirrors his own when he was still a newbie at the Dregs and wanted to prove himself, wanted to repay Kaz for saving his ass. And not just by helping him pluck stupid pigeons but also by adding extra sums of profits to his ledger. Jesper can empathize with her on this.

"He saved you too," The Zemeni asks carefully, "didn't he?"

She stares at him, gauging the understanding in his expression and simply nods.

He rubs the side of his neck awkwardly. "Well, wanna go up together?"

Her eyes widen and she involuntarily takes a few steps back. Distrust. Fear. He can empathize with this action as well. In the barrel, it'd be foolish to believe a complete stranger within few moments of the first encounter.

"Then," he smiles the smile that many have called charming and starts his ascend upstairs. He only looks back once to wink at her, hoping it'll quell her anxious mind a bit, "follow my lead?"

"I can do that." she mumbles, more to assure herself and takes the first step of many that will become the foundation to their sibling-like friendship.

Kaz

When it comes to change, development and fresh ideas, Per Haskell always cowers and dismisses the topic. People like that will never achieve anything if they aren't willing to take risks. The restoration of that abandoned fifth harbour would already be in motion if Kaz hadn't chosen to waste another of his precious mornings trying to convince his boss that investing in it may prove fruitful to the Dregs. And so, after a pointless argument he had had earlier with the old man, he's decided to take matters into his own hands.

Huffing audibly, he continues explaining every member present in his room their respective job for the day. The boisterous throng huddled around him, begins dispersing all of a sudden. Curiously, Kaz looks up to find his faitful right-hand man Jesper Fahey walking in, a mischievous glint in his silver irises.

"We bumped into each other on our way up here." Jesper gestures behind him.

And it is then that Kaz notices her presence— Inej Ghafa, the strange Suli girl he had brought back from the West Stave. Oddly, he had felt her presence moments ago but had brushed it off as a mere byproduct of his rest-deprived mind playing tricks on him. Turns out his intuition hadn’t been wrong at all.

"Its that Suli girl."

"The one that Brekker took up to his bed?"

"Who would've thought Haskell's rabid dog had such exquisite tastes."

The one that Brekker took where? Haskell's rabid what? Kaz isn't sure which remark he finds more insulting towards his reputation. Although he does realise he has no one except himself to blame. He should'nt have let the girl follow him up to the attic last night. As usual, he'll have to cover this small err with fresh tales about himself that are even more gruesome than the previous ones. But for now he must find out why the new girl is here.

Anika’s clothes are baggy on her small frame— a deep green shirt so loosely-fitted that she has tied its ends into a double knot just above her belly-button whilst the fawn-colored trousers hang tastefully around her hips. He watches her long, silky hair sway behind her as she walks gracefully in his direction, determination glimmering in her dark brown irises. Shock briefly flits across his gaze but before he can even think of stopping her, she shoots out her hands in which he (dreadfully) recognizes, she’s holding his coat. He can feel all eyes in the room already settling on him. They collectively stare in a mix of shock, curiosity and..is this jealousy he's witnessing on a few faces?

"What do you think you're doing?" He grits out. He hears a muffled snickering which he's sure is Jesper's and wonders if the two somehow managed to become friends in the short span of their climb up the stairs. And that they both planned this prank together on their way.

However, Inej only furrows her brows, debunking his ridiculous theory. She seems to be wondering what she's done wrong as she answers confidently, "I forgot to return it last night."

More interested staring ensues. The new pen in his palm snaps.

Is this girl serious right now? It took him long, unrelenting years to rise to the position he's at. He's spilled his blood, sweat and tears to scatter the seeds of terror about him throughout the expanse of Ketterdam. Even people who come across him for the first time, visibly shiver and turn pale. So what part of their last conversation has given her this courage to approach him so casually? She seems to have forgotten the fact that he’s an infamous barrel thug, feared by merchers, stadwatch and gangsters alike. She isn’t supposed to saunter up to him and return his coat, making this whole exchange appear to be a scandalous affair to the curious bystanders. She isn't supposed to crumble Dirtyhands' hard-built reputation with just a few words!

"Stand aside, I'm busy." He mutters, because he truly has no idea how to get out of this predicament and hopes that his caustic tone will get the message across just like it does with everyone else.

To his utter dismay, Inej seems to be far more tactless than Jesper, who still hasn't stopped snickering. She tucks the coat back in her arms and bites her lip as if suppressing herself from saying something mean. Her eyes quietly regard his own, an unspoken understanding settling between them. She is aware that if she doesn't wish to be thrown back into the Menagerie, she must behave properly with him. And yet, her nostrils flare as she responds, "I just wanted to pay my gratitude-"

"You can pay your gratitude," Kaz hisses back, glaring up at her from his perched position, "with your services." And its only after uttering those words does he realise the ambiguous implications hinted in them. Jesper's shoulders are shaking uncontrollably now, his palms tightly clamped around his mouth to muffle his laugh.

"Slow down, Dirtyhands." comments someone from the back and the whole room bursts into a howl of laughter. Inej brings a palm to her lips, gasping in mortification.

Kaz massages his eyes. Dealing with these ruffians has already been a headache. Now this new girl just walks in and takes the cake. She's proving to be far more dangerous– scratch that– far more more troublesome than he had expected.

He lets them have their fun as he pulls out a knife from his coatsleeve and gets up. He ambles towards Dirix, his steps slow and deliberate. He's sure it was Rotty who'd made the joke but Dirix is standing closer and it doesn't really matter who said what. Dirtyhands just needs to set an example.

The young boy is suddenly looking very pale. Kaz grabs his right hand, the dominant one and digs the blade along the joints of his fingers. The knife easily tears through his skin and goes deeper into the muscle beneath. Dirix is now screaming whilst everyone else hold their breath. From his peripheral vision, he catches the horror on Inej's face and rolls his eyes. Surely she must've heard of his violent endeavors at the menagerie. She shouldn't have approached him in the first place if she's going to be so shocked everytime he spills someone's blood.

He roots out the knife before it can completely sever Dirix's limbs. "Get 'em patched up." The boy is already running out.

He walks back and tosses the knife to the desk, its loud clang making everyone flinch in fright. "Pipe down before I actually start chopping tongues."

The threat silences everyone.

"This is Inej Ghafa." He points at her and the girl cowers slightly. Not at all the abrupt attention on her, he notices, but from him. "She's to be a new spider."

This one simple statement seems to piece together everything for them. Though he has an inkling that his previous act of brutality also plays a major part. They nod and whisper amongst themselves. He almost scoffs. Of course its easier for them to believe that Kaz Brekker took up a girl to his room for information. Not some spicy dalliance.

"Now get to work." He orders and one by one they shuffle out of the room, Rotty nodding respectfully. He knows he was spared merely by luck.

Jesper is the last one. He winks at Inej before taking his leave. "See you around, new girl!"

And with all of them gone, Kaz turns to Inej. She inhales a breath in anticipation.

"Let's start your training."

So hopefully that was as fun reading as it was for me writing :3

Coming parts will have Inej's training and ofc her picking her canon outfit.

.

SoC Masterlist

( divider by @firefly-graphics )

[books-and-dragons]

pegoryu (pre-established) post-interrogation hurt/comfort fic. has mentions of nightmares, trauma, and implied physical assault. unedited and for that i big apologise in advance

___________

okay!!! so this fic has been sitting in my drafts for months (lol what else is knew i know, shush i’m getting to the point) and i was supposed to post it on ao3 at the same time as i did a couple of others, however never got around to it bc it needed editing and im too lazy for that

likelihood is, i will edit and post to ao3 at some point, but it needs some BIG rennovations and i just can’t be arsed atm

so yeah, apologies for the shoddy writing in advance xoxo

but for now, i wanted to post it on here. today. as a sign of goodwill for the year to come. (ie. i own p5r, still havent played it, need to play it, and hope posting this will kick me into gear)

so, hope you enjoy!! and lmao if not it’ll just get buried as i start to revive this blog so,...win win?

In the first few nights since the interrogation, Ryuji stayed awake, listening to the fragile shudders of Akira’s breath in the night. So sensitive to every breath of air restricted by broken ribs, Ryuji hadn’t needed to look across the room, to gaze at the beaten figure on the bed, to know how his face was contorted in pain- unmasked in sleep.

He refused to so much as close his eyes until Akira’s breathing levelled out, still shuddering and restricted by pain, but deep enough to assure him that Akira was asleep. Only then, Ryuji allowed himself to rest.

Nobody else stayed the night. They lingered until the last train, crowded around the attic bedroom, gaze worriedly resting on Akira until the final second, where they’d leave with the accompanying chime of Leblanc’s door closing. But not Ryuji.

Ryuji, who had refused to leave Akira’s side since the moment he’d returned to their arms, beaten and drugged up, hardly coherent, but so relievingly and perfectly alive.

Akira hadn’t been alone since, Ryuji ensured that much. Torn over so much as going across the road for a bath, he couldn’t leave the other boy alone- something pulled at him to never let that happen, a pit of fear in the bottom of his stomach that pulled at his every nerve.

Maybe it had something to do with the nightmares, the visions of Akira lying broken on cold tile, at the mercilessly unrelenting hands of the police, the images of Akira lying dead, blood pooling from his head, the way the images seemed to haunt him even when awake- but there was no point reading into it. It wasn’t important, especially not now.

What mattered was that when he woke up, breath haggard and skin shining with sweat under the light of outdoor streetlamps, Akira never woke. Wasn’t even perturbed. 

Ryuji tried to be thankful for it, tried not to think about why Akira was suddenly such a deep sleeper. Ignored the puncture wounds on his neck, the bottle of painkillers by his bedside. Akira was resting, and that was enough.

Even if it didn’t make sense that, when morning rose, the dark circles under Akira’s eyes had grown. That he tried to muffle pained yawns behind bandaged hands, and begged for more coffee- even though Takemi had put him on a temporary ban.

Because Ryuji had seen him sleeping, watched the rise and fall of his chest as Ryuji reminded himself that Akira was alive and safe, it was the sight that lulled him back to sleep from a nightmare. So why did Akira always look so tired?

He tried not to let his growing concern show, there was already so much to be worried about, he didn’t want to add another. Especially not when it could be nothing but his own annoying thoughts.

It wasn’t until the next night, after a particularly painful and thorough visit from Takemi earlier that day, that Ryuji started to reconsider.

Blearily opening his eyes to the dark lighting of the attic, Ryuji didn’t need a clock to know it was well into the middle of the night, and that he’d been woken up from his sleep, again.

But it was weird. There was none of the usual constricting fear, the blind panic- he’d hardly even started seeing the figure of a beaten Akira surrounded by shadow, let alone begun imagining the worst. 

About to blame it on the lumpy and painful springs of the couch and try to fall back asleep, Ryuji caught it. Quiet, as if muffled by something, but just loud enough to penetrate through the silence in the attic and reach Ryuji: crying.

No. Not crying.

Sobbing.

Ice burning in his stomach, he carefully lifted the blanket and rose, wary of creaking springs and the sound of rustling fabric, towards the shaking figure on the bed.

His voice was barely above a whisper, carrying clearly and softly through the silence as he carefully extended an arm, not touching, only hovering, “Akira?”

The responding flinch broke Ryuji’s heart all the more, as a head rose from under the covers, bloodshot eyes wide and darting around the room in panic, hair wildly askew. 

Moving as slowly as he dared, Ryuji sat at the side of the bed, “Hey, it’s okay, it’s only me.”

As the mattress shifted under him, Akira froze. Muscles tight and unyielding, back as ramrod straight as his broken ribs would allow, the entire body braced for something Ryuji didn’t even want to think about. His gaze was distant, somewhere far away from Leblanc, from the blond sat right beside him.

It reminded Ryuji of his Ma, in the months after the divorce. Curled up together on the dingy bed, they’d cling to each other so tight even in sleep, waking up in the morning sweaty and sometimes a little uncomfortable, never minding because they woke feeling completely safe. But there were the nights when his Ma’s screams would wake him in the early hours, recoiling and shaking even in her sleep. Ryuji would sit upright and watch over her until sunrise, would try to pull her from the memories he knew haunted her. Haunted them both.

Looking at Akira, the striking familiarity of the situation made him want to hurl.

He didn’t move, no matter how strong the urge was to reach out and console his hurting best friend. Instead, he kept his voice quiet, just audible above the laboured sobs, and waited.

“You’re okay, Akira. You’re safe, I’m not goin’ anywhere, alright? You’ve got me, it’s okay-”

Slowly, the frantic scanning of the room stopped. Staring at the artificial yellow light that bathed Leblanc’s street, following it into the shadows of the attic, where dark figures seemed to fade away. The flash of blond in his vision, perfectly still, aside from the hushed mutterings leaving chapped lips.

Akira focused on that sound. It felt safe.

As Ryuji uttered soft words of reassurance, he watched the tension slowly leave Akira’s body. Shoulders slightly slouched, jaw unclenched, his lip was bleeding- but he could worry about that later. All that mattered was the softening of Akira’s lines, as he slowly came back to Ryuji.

Delicately as he dared, he reached out. Hand brushing against bruised skin, careful not to as much as press on the marred areas. For a moment, there was no response. He waited, watching the panic continue to leave until, slightly trembling, Akira’s hand interlaced with his own.

“Ryuji?” The hazed look in his eyes was clearing, staring at Ryuji with a newly discovered relief, which was quickly overtaken by shame, “Shit- I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up, just go back to sleep I’m fine-”

“Hey no, no man it’s okay, really-” Feeling Akira begin to pull away, Ryuji let his thumb run over the back of his hand, determinedly meeting Akira’s gaze, “I don’t mind.”

Akira opened his mouth, ready to retort and insist, but found himself silenced by the look in the other boy’s eyes. Ryuji’s hand was warm, and for a moment Akira forgot there were even any injuries there at all, thumb tracing over them with such a delicate touch he hadn’t known the blond to have possessed.

Staring into Ryuji’s eyes, he wondered at how they were always so open and unguarded, never with anything to hide- a true reflection of his best friend, passionate and honest to a fault. It was something Akira had often envied, that ability to always be his true self, to freely display his emotions. 

He almost took that back now, staring back into deep brown eyes. Eyes which so clearly reflected hurt and worry.

The raw concern so honestly displayed to him that, just in this moment, Akira decided he would allow himself to be vulnerable. Just this one time. Knowing that, as they had done for each other so many times before, Ryuji would never judge.

Hesitantly, Akira pulled his hand out of Ryuji’s and, ignoring the concerned look he got in return, allowed his hand to trace higher, around his forearm, pulling him closer with a silent plea.

As always, Ryuji understood.

Carefully reaching out, Ryuji wrapped his arms around Akira, pulling him to his chest. His touch is firm, but cautious of the bruising and bandages decorating Akira’s abdomen. Even then, careful as he was, the occasional shift sent twinges of pain up Akira’s spine. And yet, he found he didn’t mind- not when he was so surrounded by warmth and comfort and the steady beat of Ryuji’s heart just audible through his chest, that for a minute Akira feels like he can just forget-

Somehow, Ryuji shifts so they’re leaning against the back wall, Akira’s head resting high on Ryuji’s chest, ear pressed to his left side. Logically, Ryuji supposed now would be a good time to ask about what just happened, about the dark circles under Akira’s eyes and the fear still lingering when he caught sight of shadows in the room- but there would be other opportunities. When Akira wasn’t so damn exhausted and clinging to Ryuji like he’s the final lifeline holding Akira together. When neither of them would be waking up in the middle of the night, a frenzied mess, and worrying about suspicious strangers in public and carrying the weight of the world on their shoulders.

Yeah, there would be other times to talk. But for now, Ryuji would stay with Akira and listen as his breathing mellowed out into deep breaths, as his grip on the blond weakened and he cuddled closer still, lost to the throes of sleep.

Ryuji will stay with him until the sun rises.

Neither of them were plagued by nightmares for the rest of the night.

[corvusravenette]

FanFiction: Qi Ye

Title: I Thought of You and Yet You Came Based on Original Work: Qi Ye || Lord Seventh Author: Priest Genre: BL Warning: Gore and Violence Rate: Teen / Young adults Pairing: M/M (Wu Xi + Beiyuan) Chapter: 3 of 5

*This has been sitting in my drafts along with the rest of the chapters for a good month! Have you ever written fics - and then start new fics - and completely forgot you have drafts you should’ve uploaded? Yeah. Me.

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          Wu Xi swore to himself, if… if his beloved lived on through this night… he would force-feed him all the foundation building pills he could find. That grim almost humorless thought sank deep in his heart, taking root as he scolded the dying man in front of him in his head. This is what you get for not taking care of yourself! Now look what you’ve gotten yourself into! If you weren’t such a lazy bout, you wouldn’t have been this… badly injured… Wu Xi’s hands stilled as the voice reprimanding Beiyuan in his head immediately quietened.           “Bei..yuan?” he whispered, gingerly holding two fingers to the pulse on his neck. “Nuahar! Ashinlae! Quickly get in here!”  

         The two men standing guard outside rushed in at the frantic command. They quickly lifted the Prince’s body into a sitting lotus position as the Great Shaman sat behind him, his hands deftly moving in a circular pattern. A very pale light blue force could be seen visibly distorting the air underneath the Great Shaman’s palm as he placed them on Beiyuan’s shoulder blades, channeling his qi into him, forcing it to protect his failing heart. Sweat dotted his forehead, and his vision swayed but Wu Xi kept this momentum up until yèbàn broke into the jī míng hours of the morning, holding stubbornly onto Beiyuan’s dimming life force.          He collapsed into Nuahar’s frightened arms as the latter watched the Shaman’s ghastly pale complexion from energy lost, unable to keep going. The Prince spat out a mouthful of stagnant blood following the sudden energy surge and Ashinlae who was staying the Prince in his lotus position quickly tapped on his meridians to allow the Prince to breathe better. He exchanged a look with Nuahar, his eyes red-rimmed from fear and exhaustion.

         Carefully, the two men position both their exhausted leader and his beloved flat on the bed, lifting the blanket to cover them both. The smell of blood pungent in the air. Their hearts dared not hope that the worse of the Prince’s injury was elevated for now. There was no sense in false beliefs. They knew he was not out of the woods yet. The deep cut on his chest was bound to be infected and the massive blood loss he experienced would set off a fiery fever. It would be a matter of time and it would be another long fight to keep him bound on this earth.          Nuahar left to brew energy boosting tonic for his leader to take when he awakened, and called upon Ping An to look after them as they slept. The young man who had followed the Prince Nanning since he was six years old nodded in solemn understanding and stood by the bed in wait, his heart breaking as it had never before.

         “Prince, if you died, what would have become of your household and your servants? Who would look after us? Who… Who would argue with me over small things? Please… please stay alive my lord,” Ping An whispered, rubbing the tears in his eyes with the back of his sleeve.

         Ashinlae, who had resumed his post as guard by the bedroom entrance, overheard this lament and understood the overwhelming grief in the servant’s voice. To them, if the Prince left their leader, the heartbreak would be unbearable. The latter would be a shell of his own self, incomplete and forever punished to live a life in solitude – waiting for the day he died to be reunited again with his beloved on the Yellow Spring Road. The Prince, after all, was the receiver of the Great Shaman’s heirloom, the inconspicuous jade ring that was hanging around his neck even now. In this lifetime, it could only be given to one person – they all knew the significance and level of devotion attached to the ring.          He couldn’t bear the thought, curling his hand into a fist, Ashinlae stepped away from his post to get a grip on himself. They were not completely safe yet. If Nanjiang lost their Great Shaman, it would be akin to losing the very foundation of their beliefs. He was the chosen messenger of God, the one who would lead their people into glory and prosperity. Ashinlae knew deep down in his heart, if the Prince left this world… their leader will follow suit soon after…

+-+-+-+-+-          Wu Xi…

         A voice so soft, so fleeting was whispering his name, urging him to wake. Jerking from his sleeping position, Wu Xi sat up quickly, his head spinning from the sudden vertigo and his hand quickly came up to support the side of his head to numb the discomfort. Realising something, he snapped his head to the side, almost wanting to heave in relieve to see the man lying next to him was in the flesh and not an illusion… but that sensation didn’t last very long.          As though in tandem, the door opened to let Nuahar in, bringing a bowl that smells like a very pungent tonic. Recognising it for what it was, Wu Xi grabbed it quickly and downed the contents almost without blinking. He was used to this; he would experiment medicines on himself without hesitation. It would take a while before the familiar tonic kicks in and he would be able to function better. Nearly cursing his body for its slow recovery, Wu Xi handed the bowl back to Nuahar and turned his body over to better check on the man who was lying in the inside of the bed.          Looking out the open window, he surmised that it was probably the second half of jī míng. He must have collapsed after channeling his qi into Beiyuan earlier, but he could not afford sleep at this critical juncture. Pressing sure fingers into the man’s wrist, Wu Xi counted the pulse to a hundred. It was there, but it was feeble and irregular. He then methodically untied the man’s chemise to expose the bandages covering his chest.          “Nuahar: two buckets of hot water, fresh bandages, linens, towels, the red bottles with the purple ribbons, and ask Ashinlae to wake the servants and purchase this list of herbs from the apothecaries. Wake the owners up, bring my token,” Wu Xi recited very clinically, almost coldly, as he scribbled down the list of herbs he needed as if the person lying next to him was not his beloved but a regular comatose patient in need of urgent treatment, “Ping An, new robes, none of the frilly multi-layered ones, but thick enough so your Master doesn’t catch his death in this cold. I also need woolen blankets,”

         Ping An wanted to protest the inauspicious way the Great Shaman was calling for death but the look Nuahar gave him shut him up very quickly. Nodding, and swallowing his grief, Ping An quickly left to fetch the clothes and blankets he was requested of. Nuahar gave the list to Ashinlae who took off hurriedly without a word with a few servants to run the errand whilst Nuahar went off to boil hot water and grab the items the Great Shaman had tasked him with.          Less than half a shichen later, Nuahar came back to the Great Shaman’s quarters carrying the items in question. He was met with silent acknowledgment as the latter looked up, his obsidian eyes unblinking. It was unnerving to be the subject of that impossibly deep stare and Nuahar found his movements to have gone rigid before Wu Xi turned his attention to the bucket of hot water by his feet.

         Taking off his outer robe, the same one he had worn for days now, Wu Xi rolled the inner chemise sleeves up to his elbow, tucking in the ends securely before submerging both arms in one of the buckets of hot water Nuahar brought in. The warrior was now acting as his medical assistant, handing over what smelled like medicinal soap and watched as the Great Shaman began scrubbing his fingers and hands meticulously with the soap, making sure that his hands were absolutely clean before redressing Beiyuan’s wounds lest he risked another bout of infection.           Taking a clean towel from the rack near the bed, Wu Xi wiped his hands dry, took a deep breath and swallowed hard as his hands made quick practiced movements to completely strip Beiyuan of his upper chemise. Gently uncoiling the multi layered bandages now soaked with overnight blood, Wu Xi bit his lower lip from trembling, forcing himself to focus before pulling the last of the bandages away from his Prince’s chest. The deepest wound on his chest had begun to fester; yellow pus stuck to the bandage as it was taken off, dripping slowly out of the hastily sutured wound. 

         Wu Xi was afraid of this, no matter how quickly he had stitched and disinfected the wound on that damnable day, the rain had made his worst prediction come true. He looked up to Nuahar who, as though had read his mind before he even opened his mouth, handed him a very thin knife that had been held in the candle by the medicine table.           Holding his hand steady, Wu Xi began the arduous task of reopening the wound, unstitching his handiwork thread by thread. In the corner of his eyes, he noticed Nuahar had begun scrubbing his hands, pouring hot water over them – mimicking his earlier movements. In his hearts of hearts, he would remember the sacrifices of this warrior who became his everything in his time of need. Him and Ashinlae would be rewarded with the highest of orders when they returned to Nanjiang.          Focusing on the task in front of him, Wu Xi instructed his makeshift medical assistant to use fresh linens to press down on the blood bubbling up front the now reopened wound - his voice cold, bordering on apathy, almost mechanical without any emotional fluctuations. Without saying a word, Wu Xi sliced off the festering dead flesh in clean neat ribbons, deep red blood dripping on to the bedsheet and into a waiting basin where he deftly tossed the rotten flesh and blood-soaked linens in. He then carefully cut small nicks into the fresh wound to stimulate regrowth.          Reaching over to the table again, Wu Xi picked up his little hook needle and held it under the candle to sterilise it before sewing Beiyuan’s flesh closed once again: neatly, carefully this time, making sure he did not leave any room for new infections to grow. Once he was satisfied with the new sutures, Wu Xi washed his hands and grabbed another linen, soaked it in hot water and squeezed whatever excess water it had before wiping the blood on Beiyuan’s chest clean. Making sure that the wound was sewn tightly, he uncorked three of the small bottles and deftly poured the purple liquid generously over the fresh stitches, ensuring that it was now freshly disinfected and sealed.

         Wiping his sweaty forehead across his sleeve, Wu Xi reached last for the bandages on his side, and carefully began the slow process of wrapping Beiyuan’s chest and abdomen tightly, tying the edges into secure knots by the Prince’s shoulders. Standing up after what seemed like a long time, Wu Xi stumbled a little, realizing belatedly that he had not eaten since returning from the battlefield.          Beiyuan was still not out of harm’s way and he refused to leave his side lest the Emperor decided to hasten his way here. That would not be ideal at all, in fact that would turn into a bloodbath on its own indeed. He would never let Beiyuan out of his view ever again. Turning around, his eyes caught sight of the large basin filled with the blood-soaked linens and the decaying flesh he had shorn off Beiyuan’s chest.          An idea had begun forming in his head. Swiftly looking for the outer chemise Beiyuan wore on the battlefield, and finding the torn garment haphazardly tossed to the side, he rummaged through the inner pockets and pulled out a blood-stained cloth, almost unrecognizable if not for the embroidered initials in one of its corners. The initials of the Prince, a small Osmanthus flower with the emblem unique to the Prince’s household was delicately stitched in light golden threads.

         Grimly, Wu Xi carried the bloodied cloth to the basin filled with Beiyuan’s blood and pushed it in, soaking in every last bit of fresh blood, staining the already browning cloth with deeper darker red. Not waiting to wash his hands off again this time, Wu Xi pulled on his outer robes, his appearance not any better than when he had reached Beiyuan by the waterfall.          He hadn’t the time to bother with appearances. It had all been occupied by his beloved. His braided hair was pulled into a high ponytail secured with a leather cord, his outer robe unfastened, exposing the inner chemise freshly stained with Beiyuan’s blood; his very being holding the stench of overwhelming death about him. Nuahar didn’t stop him, he eyed the handkerchief in his Shaman’s grip and knew where he was headed… the Imperial Palace.

         “GET ME MY HORSE NOW!” Wu Xi barked the order as he stepped over the threshold of his quarters. One of the guarding warriors quickly untied the black stallion waiting outside of the gates and brought it into the Great Shaman’s compound. No one wanted to be on their leader’s bad side at this moment.

         “Nuahar, when Ashinlae gets back with the medicines, divide the packages into seven equal parts, boil the first set on low heat – don’t burn it – and add three drops of the contents of this bottle, no more than three drops! His body might not withstand the effects. Then get him to find Master Zhou. Tell him, it’s time,” Wu Xi instructed rapidly as Nuahar followed him out into the compound.

         “But… Great Shaman… this is… this is the venom of the Manchurian scorpion?” Nuahar implored uneasily, recognizing the small yellow jade bottle in his hand. He had seen the potency of this venom first-hand.His uneasy tone was met with a sharp cutting gaze from the Great Shaman.            “You dare question me?” Wu Xi growled in a low tone, his patience clearly running on fumes and the warrior before him immediately took a step back and knelt very quickly on one knee to the ground, a hand clenched above his heart.          “I don’t dare, Great Shaman! Forgive my insolence!” Nuahar replied, realizing belatedly that he had misspoken out of turn. Who was he to question the Chosen Messenger of God? How dare he indeed, “I will follow your instructions to the letter!”          Wu Xi gave him a sidelong look and turned on his heels, quickly making his way to his waiting ride. Lifting a foot into the leather stirrup, he hoisted himself up into the saddle and immediately pulled the reins towards the gates, the bloodied handkerchief warm and wet in his hand – as though he was carrying a pulsing heart – before tucking it safely in the lapels of his inner robe. Pressing the heel of his boot into the horse’s girth, his black stallion neighed and reared on its hind legs, before thumping down and galloping away onto the still empty streets.          As though aware of its master’s urgency, the stallion charged forward, straining the strong muscles of its legs as much as it could. The cold dawn wind whipped bitingly against Wu Xi’s face, it wasn’t sunrise yet, but the horizon had lightened a little as he made the mad rush to the Imperial Palace – partially because he wanted to get this deed done and over with, and partially because Beiyuan still had one foot firmly secured in the netherworld and he didn’t want to be too far apart from him lest the grim reapers beckoned his beloved away while he wasn’t there.          Reaching the outer gates of the Imperial Palace, and immediately recognizable by the unique silver adornments on the stallion’s armored forehead and the thick black robes of the Great Shaman who drove the fear of God into the hearts of the Vakurah warriors and the Great Qing soldiers alike, the guards stepped aside swiftly to let the now famed Great Shaman enter freely into the imperial grounds.          Pulling in the reins, his stallion slowed down and trotted a few circles before it neighed lightly to a stop in the vast outer courtyard of the Imperial Palace. He wasn’t surprised the least when the palace guards immediately descended upon him. He knew from Zhou Zishu’s visit the night before that the palace guards likely had orders to wait for him. They quickly approached him: one helped steady his ride, and another quickly leading him forward – climbing the many steps of the Imperial Palace towards the Emperor’s inner courtyard.          The Emperor’s own personal attendant, Yu Kui, received him anxiously, relief evident on his face when he saw the Great Shaman’s powerful long strides making his way towards him, but quickly the uplifted mood turned somber when he realised the state of the Great Shaman’s bloodied clothes. It was clear that the latter had not changed from the battlefield at all. His heart sunk in trepidation, already predicting the outcome of this visit. Swallowing the thought down in his throat, he gestured hurriedly to Wu Xi to follow him. “Your Majesty, the Great Shaman returned!” “Invite him over, quick!”

         Wu Xi had followed Yu Kui in and could clearly hear the bellow from the inner chambers. His eyes took note of the line of imperial doctors and other eunuchs-in-waiting outside of the Emperor’s chambers: the anxiety and nervousness in their body languages, and how they averted their gazes when he bore his own challenging ones down on them.          Entering the vast chamber, Wu Xi kept his eyes aimed straight at the monarch, and the words he wanted to say died in his throat at the sight of the disheveled Emperor. This was the claimed Son of Heavens, the chosen one of their Gods. Yet, at this moment, he looked no better than a man drowning in water, his features pale and ghastly, his complexion waning. He was thinner than Wu Xi remembered – majestic still – but somewhat less of the impression he had of him before.          He saw the Emperor; no, he saw a man struggling to admit his forbidden love, the bitter desperation in his eyes evident, yet he made no claims on his beloved; that for a split second, Wu Xi knew his decision to take away Beiyuan had been right. There was never going to be anything between them yet this man in front of him was showing possessiveness over another he had not had the courage to fight for openly.          If you loved him, you should’ve fought me for him. You should’ve shown him. You should’ve chased him, stopped him, shielded him, protected him, made him yours openly. Yet, you did none of those but you have the audacity to want to claim his life. Your own need for power and control overcame any love you have for him. You do not love him as much I do. Wu Xi disgustedly thought ro himself. He no longer had no patience left to deal with this half-assed man in front of him. He wanted to leave as quickly as he had come.

         Without saying a word, he took out the small bloodied handkerchief out of his lapels and watched as the Emperor’s eyes widened, his entire body frozen, his breathing hitching as the latter’s gaze fell on his hand. Wu Xi had not washed the blood off his hands, and he knew the Emperor had seen his bloodied state when he entered, smelled the stench of blood on him as he drew closer. He watched unblinkingly as Helian Yi continued to stare at the handkerchief in a daze, only after a long while later did he moved stiffly to reach out and take the handkerchief out of his hand and into his own palms.

         “Where is he?” Wu Xi heard him demand in a hoarse voice as the Emperor lifted large maddening eyes towards him. Of this, Wu Xi shook his head mutedly, neither confirming nor denying anything.          “We… want to see him if he’s alive, his corpse if he’s dead! Someone! Come here!” the Emperor bellowed hysterically, almost dementedly.          Wu Xi stared at him fixedly, unblinkingly, apathetically. His decision had been right. There was no way this man could be allowed to know the Beiyuan was still with him. He would not allow it in this lifetime or any other lifetimes. As the imperial doctors and attendants hurried into the room, Wu Xi turned around, ignoring the Emperor’s words amidst the chaos and left without saying anymore lest his face betrayed his own revulsion of the man.           He knew that this would not be the last time he had to deal with the Rongjia Emperor... CLICK HERE: [1] [2] [3] [4]

[tanoraqui]

Grave dirt baby... 🥺✨

me, procrastinating my actual fic? no... GRAVE DIRT BABY A-YUAN

HEY TUMBLR FUCKED UP ALL MY BULLET POINTS ON THIS THE SECOND I HIT POST BUT IT’S 4AM SO I’M LEAVING IT UP ANYWAY. STUPID GODDAMN WEBSITE.

Wei Wuxian has been in the Burial Mounds for like 2.5 months out of what he doesn’t yet know will be about 3. He’s not even sure he’s going to survive yet. But he has managed to manifest an evil sword - the evil sword - out of the aether/ambient resentful energy/an attunement set with an unwise touch in the belly of an evil turtle

and he does know that he’s not going to survive if he doesn’t get the power of the Burial Mounds under some sort of control

so he cuts his arm and with blood running down the blade, draws something adjacent to the first demon-summoning flag but as an array in the dirt. He stands in the middle and - keep in mind that he more or less hasn’t slept in 2.5 months - plunges the sword into the center, still coated in his blood, and draws in all the resentful energy of the Burial Mounds

was it supposed to go into the sword? Into himself? Into just the single 4ft diameter array area, a column of bound death? who knows, not Wei Wuxian! it’s pure gut instinct

u know what else works on gut instinct, thought? Fairy tales.

And in a fairy tale, why, clay of the earth plus iron enough for a blade plus still-warm blood to show the way...

There’s an implosion and Wei Wuxian is standing - somehow still standing - in a small crater where the array used to be, and his evil sword is plunged into the belly of a baby

He yanks it out in horrified reflex, and realizes a moment later that the baby seems unfazed by this. If there was even a wound, it closes before his eyes, and the glimpse he had showed something more bloody clay than flesh beneath the skin

the iron sword crumbles as he pulls it away, as though rusted a thousand years. the baby turns its head from the iron shavings that falls on it, but then reaches up for Wei Wuxian with a cheerfully demanding cry

he picks it up, of course. (he’d think he was hallucinating if he wasn’t absolutely and utterly aware that he’s not)

it is, as far as he can tell, with physical and spiritual resentful inspection, an absolutely normal baby

oh, except when he looks really closely. Then he can sense the neutron star–dense knot of resentful energy where a golden core might (but will definitely not have room to) form. Also, it can command the dead, and when he holds it, so can he. He’s not sure if it’s a proximity-based power share or if he’s passing his desires through the baby, but even Wei Wuxian, at about 3 months with no food save the rage of the dead and no rest save the promise of final release, has to stop investigating at some point. He has things to do!

specifically, he has Wens to kill

so instead of the iconic shot of the dark flautist in the moonlight, we get the dark, uh...man singing a very spooky lullaby to his baby in the moonlight. It is still deeply creepy. It’s a making-it-up-as-he-goes tune based on a Yunmengi lullaby that he certainly learned from neither of his foster parents, and the lyrics are along the lines of, “let them remember what they did, sweet little potato, let them remember why they’re dying”

yeah he’s been calling this child “Little Potato” for 2 weeks 

why

is that not how you name a child

sometimes when he’s more annoyed at it, he calls it “Little Radish”, or even less appetizing root vegetables

by the time he walks in, the baby is asleep in his arms and he’s not singing anymore, just letting the dead do his will. This is what Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji see. The subsequent conversation, Wen Chao and Wen Zhuliu at their feet, goes like this:

LWJ: Wei Ying. You have a baby.

WWX: Oh, uh...

PLAY DUMB!

WWX: What baby?

NOT THAT DUMB!

WWX: Oh, this baby! Haha yeah. I...found it.

JC: What the fuck

WWX: Yeah, weird, right? Right near the, uh...

LWJ: They said you were in the Burial Mounds

WWX: Yyyyup. Yes that is. I found this baby by the side of the road after I walked out of the Burial Mounds.

JC, briefly too morbidly fascinated to think about either the demonic cultivation they just watched or the fact that he wants to hug his brother like he’s never wanted to hug another being in his life: What did you name it?

WWX: ....

JC, desire to hug intensifying together with exasperation: oh my god

Sometime in the next couple days - after sleeping a bit, maybe - it occurs to Wei Wuxian that his raw instincts were right and things will go very badly for little A-Yuan (his siblings insisted he name it) if anyone finds out that he’s a not-yet-walking, not-yet-talking little neuron star of resentful energy. So he takes the iron shavings that are all that remain of the Stygian Turtle Sword and forges them into a Tiger-shaped Seal. He also carves a bamboo flute, like he’d been thinking about before the whole...baby thing. He loudly proclaims both to be dark and terrible weapons

(it really is helpful. The sword was...kind of A-Yuan’s other parent, after all, in addition to their third partner, the Burial Mounds. Chenqing gives him finer control of whatever stray resentful energy he chooses to pick up, and the Stygian Seal lets him channel A-Yuan’s power at need, even when not touching him. Which is good - a battlefield is no place for a baby)

even if that baby thinks ghosts and ghouls exist to pick him up and rock him or toss him around (babies like to be tossed)

Wei Wuxian puts so many goddamn spirit-repelling charms on that child, and lets it be marked down to the paranoia of a survivor

using whatever resentful energy he picks up is generally more effective, actually. Less strong, but it quickly becomes clear that the way this works does, in fact, involve Wei Wuxian communicating his desires through A-Yuan, or at least A-Yuan has to put up with the loan of power. There’s nothing quite like abruptly losing control of a field of corpses because the baby got abruptly uncooperative with anything that wasn’t barfing

the baby does eat, for the record. As far as Wei Wuxian can tell, he doesn’t actually need to, but once WWX fed him once, when they first left the Mounds, he wanted it all the time

he still takes A-Yuan with him when he can. That is the paranoia of a survivor. A-Yuan is...

“A battlefield is no place for a baby, A-Xian,” Jiang Yanli says gently, as he sets out from Carp Tower after another stolen visit, another failed attempt to convince Jin Guangshan off his ass. “And you are...so busy. LanlingJin takes in orphans, you know...”

“A-Yuan...he’s my blood,” Wei Wuxian says quietly. He’s never been good at lying to his shijie

Whatwherewhenhowwho, he’d see on her face if he was looking at it. But he isn’t. It’s not shame, though, she can see (it really never is, with Wei Wuxian). Fear of disappointing her, slight resignation...but mostly acceptance. Determination. Something almost like contentment.

(When Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangj first took him back to whatever resembled a base camp - somewhere in Qinghe, probably, or maybe Lanling - he had to let a trained healer look at A-Yuan, physical and spiritual examination, and he held his breath and calculated how many people he’d have to kill to get out of here, how fast he’d have to move to not hurt his brother or any particular friends; thought, oh, he’s mine, in a way he hadn’t before - as a child, a son, not just a very strange weapon - 

“He’s quite healthy,” said the doctor, mildly surprised, bouncing A-Yuan on one knee. A-Yuan gurgled happily. “About three months old?”

the longer Wei Wuxian took to answer, the more disapproving her stare got. But that did make sense)

Then all else can be dealt with later. “You should still leave him here,” Jiang Yanli says firmly. “You need to look after yourself and A-Cheng out there. I can look after A-Yuan.”

It takes a bit under two years to win back the lost and burnt territories, scour the Wens out of every crevice, corner Wen Ruohan in his precious Nightless City and bring it tumbling down. Nobody will know the timing but A-Yuan sleeps through the final battle, smiling at dreams that would make a grown man weep in horror. Somewhere, his father is playing a lullaby

About a week later, Jiang Cheng stalks into Wei Wuxian’s bedroom, which he shares with A-Yuan. One of the first rooms rebuilt in the new Lotus Pier. A-Yuan is there, too, playing with blocks while Wei Wuxian idly drafts talismans

“A-jie said the kid is yours,” he says, crossed arms. “Like, yours-yours. When the fuck did you do that?”

(Wei Wuxian has thought about this, by now; gone over the pros and cons of every possibility, the politics and potentials and maybe even the giddy possibility of telling something like the truth)

(the guiding principle is: he has no interest in drawing on the “Stygian Tiger Seal” ever again. The Sunshot Campaign is over. His loved ones are safe, and he sees no reason why they shouldn’t all live long, happy, normal lives)

(also/though, he will burn Jin Sect, Carp Tower, and all of Lanling to the ground before the new Chief Cultivator should touch his son)

“In Caiyi,” he lies. “Right before I got kicked out. I, uh, snuck out a lot more often than you noticed.”

His brother squints at him suspiciously. But Wei Wuxian can also watch him do the math in his head and reluctantly admit that it works.

“So are you claiming him or what?” he challenges. “’Wei Yuan’? You have a courtesy name - wait, no, you are not naming that kid again. You’re going to make his courtesy name be Carrothead or something.” 

“Should I let you pick it, oh wise and noble shidi - no, shushu?!” Wei Wuxian teases, as A-Yuan gets tired of his blocks and starts climbing up him like a jungle gym

Jiang Cheng sighs like the north wind - gusting long and hard, with just the faintest chill to suggest that the skies will be weeping, soon

But...

Despite some evidence to the contrary, Wei Wuxian is generally fully aware of when he’s about to cross a line that cannot be backtracked over. So he meets Wen Qing in the city, and before going to Lanling, he nips into Lotus Pier and picks up A-Yuan

He might leave A-Yuan with Wen Qing in the city when he goes to Glamour Hall, but Qiongqi Pass happens with a toddler watching silently from Wei Wuxian’s hip. Does Wei Wuxian tell him to look away, bury his face in baba’s shirt, or does he not bother, knowing the sort of song that makes up A-Yuan’s sweet dreams?

The Wens become the second through 51st or so people who learn what A-Yuan is. Wei Wuxian briefly considers trying to hide it, but, honestly, there are dead things everywhere on the Burial Mounds, and despite his genuine efforts, he cannot convince A-Yuan that a fierce corpse is anything but the ideal patty-cake companion. (They’ll play with him for hours! It’s a two-nearly-three-year-old’s dream!)

(he doesn’t want to convince him, not really. The last thing he wants to do ever is give A-Yuan anything to be scared of)

nor could he possibly wish that A-Yuan not be...obviously hale and hearty, running rosy-cheeked and strong around these hills of death that slowly seep the energy from any humans, animals, or even sturdy root crops

“So, uh, this is actually my demon baby,” said Wei Wuxian as they all settled in

“this day has been so weird already, this might as well goddamn happen”, said the Wens collectively

“You created a living child out of dead earth, so I’m going to take that as a yes that you can bring my brother back,” said Wen Qing specifically

“...fuck. I mean, yes. I mean - fuck,” said Wei Wuxian. “I- of course I will.”

(it doesn’t work like that, though)

The 52nd person to find out what A-Yuan is is Lan Wangji. Wei Wuxian very much does not tell him. They have a pleasant toy-shopping trip and lunch in town, and then the alarm talisman goes off and Wei Wuxian grabs A-Yuan and Lan Wangji tugs them both onto Bichen and when they arrive, Wen Ning is roaring. Lan Wangji knows what’s important; he takes A-Yuan so Wei Wuxian’s hands are free and he doesn’t have to worry about his son

except Wen Ning, black-eyed with rage, throws Wei Wuxian into a tree hard enough to crack a rib, and even as Lan Wangji raises Bichen, A-Yuan shouts,

“Uncle Ning, stop!”

and Wen Ning stops

(as a rule, Wei Wuxian can’t take over with himself and Chenqing anything A-Yuan is controlling, unless A-Yuan lets him, and vice versa. To eliminate variables, Wei Wuxian had made sure that any reins on Wen Ning were his (Wei Wuxian’s) alone. But in that moment, before Wen Ning came fully back to himself, his reins were swinging free - and they were back within the bounds of the Burial Mounds, where A-Yuan was always strong)

and Lan Wangji puts several pieces together at once and prays to every single god in heaven and every ancestor he’s disappointing right now that this was a miracle of love and a very cute child piercing through a fierce corpse’s mindless rampage. That he simply...hallucinated the burst of resentful energy he just felt from the child in his arms

but he’s absolutely, utterly aware that he didn’t

Wei Wuxian explains, stilted and awkward at the bottom of the hill. Challenging and terrified. Holding on to A-Yuan. 

Lan Wangji promises to keep the secret. 

Wei Wuxian takes Hanguang-jun’s word

Remember, oh, remember, that Wei Wuxian walks A-Yuan back up the hill until A-Yuan gets tired and Wei Wuxian picks him up, on their one-and-a-half–man plank bridge through the dark. Remember remember remember that before he can finish speaking that line, there is light - the clearing is lit with lanterns and secret-keepers 2 through 51, and I suppose 53 now that Wen Ning is awake, are waiting with dinner and warmth and welcome. Reader, remember this.

But then...

Aunt Qing and Uncle Ning had gone, and then, with a terrible expression on his face, so had A-Yuan’s baba. Now his baba’s anger and sadness is so strong that the weight of it makes A-Yuan cry from hundreds of miles away, and he curls into Granny’s arms and sends his baba everything he can. Will everything be okay, then? Will everyone come home; will they be able to smile again?

(oh, A-Yuan...)

(No.)

A-Yuan - Wei Yuan, Little Potato (when he’s good for baba or bad for Aunt Qing) or Little Radish (inverse); one day to be Lan Yuan, Lan Sizhui - was born in the good old fairy tale way of earth and iron and blood. It’s a hard thing for any child to lose even a single parent - in one day, in one minute, A-Yuan loses two of three, as the father of his blood burns away in hand the last shreds of Stygian iron, and promptly loses control of his own resentful energy

(the Tiger Seal does nothing like explode, in this world. It was never more than a prop - but a vital one. the benefit of proving it destroyed would be worth the loss of a parent, if only a second didn’t follow on its heels)

A-Yuan has been a dead thing (or close enough) come to life all his life, and both dead and living have been his friends and family. But he’s never felt the transition the other way: from life to death

It’s no wonder, really, that he can’t remember it afterward. No wonder that even on the land that was the last part of him, he was feverish and barely conscious when Lan Wangji stumbled, bleeding, off of Bichen, and took in his arms. No wonder that he remembered very little at all, including the dead. 

But he would be okay. Under physical and spiritual inspection, he’s a perfectly normal boy. He may not be able to form a golden core (there's something in the way), but there are...workarounds. He’ll grow up in one of the most heavily spiritually warded enclaves in the world, safe and loved as he relearns (mostly in secret) what he can do

(For the sake of this story, and A-Yuan’s survival as something close to canon, let’s say there are some truly dark things in the forbidden section of the Lan Library, that could only be used for nefarious purposes - though, I suppose we already knew that. Let’s say there are talismans that will disguise the very nature of qi, so resentful energy may appear spiritual. Let’s say, Lan Xichen becomes the 53rd to know the truth, because his brother needs help - and it’s Wei Wuxian’s child, okay? It’s just Wei Wuxian’s child, quiet and unsure rather than laughing as he always was. If you were in the inner circle of leaders of the Sunshot Campaign, you have absolutely met this child, probably held him and bounced him on one knee)

(What keeps Lan Xichen up at night isn’t the concealing amulet he helped his brother make, which Lan Yuan wears at all times around his neck. It’s the silence he keeps every time he meets Jiang Wanyin’s eyes over a diplomatic table. If anyone had the right to know Wei Yuan survived... But Sandu Sengshou killed Wei Wuxian, everyone knows that, and now he hunts demonic cultivators - what might his pride drive him to do to his nephew, if he ever learned the truth? (Selfishly, Lan Xichen know that if Lan Wangji lost A-Yuan, even just to living at Lotus Pier, Lan Xichen might lose his brother. That fear ebbs with time passing, but the the longer he hasn’t spoken, the worse it would be to do so...))

They don’t restrict Lan Yuan to the Cloud Recesses, no more than any other novice. For memory of their mother, neither of them could bear that. Jiang Cheng does eventually see him at a conference, and stops dead. Years have passed, but that is an entire goddamn nephew, right there. But - how? No, it can’t be. That’s...everyone knows Lan Wangji hated Wei Wuxian. It’s just...and someone would have told him. The Lans value propriety above all, after all.

Anything that can be done with spiritual cultivation can be done with demonic cultivation, save heal. Lan Sizhui makes up for it with an encyclopedic knowledge of undead and monsters, and a prodigal talent for Inquiry

On their first night hunt, the young juniors face ghosts. Unfortunately, this is when Lan Jingyi learns that he’s terrified of ghosts. He’s hiding behind Lan Sizhui and panic is contagious, and the senior accompanying them is in a different room of the abandoned house, and Lan Sizhui forgets that he’s holding a sword and just shouts, “Stop! Go away!” 

the ghost, of course, obeys

Lan Jingyi peeks out form behind him. “Did- did you do that?”

“I don’t know,” Lan Sizhui admits (except that he’s absolutely sure he did)

There’s another flicker of movement, just the wind blowing ashes but Jingyi whips around with wild eyes. “Can you do it again?”

[friendship. my point is, he’s a demon baby but he has family and friends who love and accept him.]

And one day, some absolute fucking morons are going to bring him back home, where he can never be anything but strong, and threaten his friends and family? And the threat is an army of his old playmates, commanded by an attempt at recreating some combination of Chenqing and the Tiger Seal? He couldn’t manage it in Yi City, but now A-Yuan, Wei Yuan, Lan Sizhui stands on earth that has never stopped being part of him, or maybe he’s never stopped being part of it. If he closed his eyes he could feel every foot on it, living and restless dead. And they’re threatening his baba - who he remembers, as the earth remembers its old partner, even though the blood is changed - and his father Hanguang-jun, and his extended family and friends?

No.

[sunshinetoshi]

hand over your human rights.

ok let's start from the very beginning. i was writing iwa angst. i lost motivation. opened tumblr to gather some motivation. scrolled and pt 5 was the second post on my dash. the way i screeched pls. i read till the part where oikawa asked if they can get back together. i cried. left to shower. cried in shower for like 20 minutes before going to play genshin. i came back. read it all over again and i'm crying while writing this.

IT WAS SO BEAUTIFUL LET ME INHALE AMAYA I'VE NEVER READ SOMETHING SO PAINFUL YET SO AMAZING

i'd be lying if i said i hoped for a happy ending 🧍‍♀️but the ending you gave? that was realistic. i think a realistic ending is better than a happy ending. i've read a lot of cheating fics, trust me as an angst lover, no fics deliver angst the way cheating ones do. and when i read the part where oikawa asked for another chance? i knew where it was going

hate me for saying this but my mind really went "not this shit again." because i know how it goes in stories. they ask for another chance, the reader knows they're still in love, yada yada and they're back as if nothing happened. i don't hate that, but if it were me, i won't get back to someone who cheated on me.

but then i read the part where the reader tells about their insecurities. the ones questioning the probability that oikawa won't cheat again while in Argentina. anD LET ME TELL YOU THE WAY I GASPED AND THEN A REALLY BIG SMILE TOOK OVER MY FACE LIKE— you never fail to surprise me, amaya :>

those words, about insecurities and not cheating again, those are the only thing on ones mind when someone who cheated on them asks them to get back together. i know that's not easy to say, it can either lead to a healthy conversation or build even higher walls but i love how to decided to put it in the story and give it an ending that seemed realistic. remember the other ask i sent you about it? the one where you said that you try to put yourself in that situation? it's hard to do that, specially when you're writing angst.

and i really see that you wrote this whole fic from yours and the readers' perspective and not just for the happy or the sad endings. when i say i relate to every word you wrote, i mean it. no one cheated on me, of course, but those are some words that come to my mind if someone who cheated on me asked me to get back together with them

oKAY ENOUGH WITH THE EMOTIONAL THINGS, THIS ASK IS GETTING VERY VERY LONG I'M SORRY. I JUST WANT TO SAY THAT IT WAS WORTH ALL THE WAIT. FOUR MONTHS, I GUESS? I REMEMBER YOU POSTING THE FOURTH PART AROUND THE TIME I JOINED TUMBLR LOL GOD I AVOIDED THE FIC FOR SO LONG BECAUSE I KNEW IT WON'T END WELL. I HATE MYSELF FOR THAT >///<

overall, i loved it. i'll read it again, i just know i would because it's really amazing. i think this gives you enough reasons for why i look up to you. you're just amazing. aND WHAT IF I TOLD YOU THAT THIS FIC IS GIVING ME IDEAS FOR AN OIKAWA SMAU 💀

anyway, i hope you're doing well. those 5.1k words were some of the best i've ever read and i love them a lot. please take care of yourself, stay hydrated, give yourself a treat because you did great. i love you <3

i s w e a r if tumblr ate this 🗡

if t*mblr ate this amazing message before i was able to respond i'd fight em 🤺🤺 ajdghss

okay wait i will treasure this ask forever and ever i'm screaming!! fr when i read this my smile kept growing and growing and i was near tears bc of this (also you made me want to REREAD my own work even tho i JUST proofread it and posted it HAHAHA the power you hold). but wow this whole ask has my heart so so much

i saw you posted the iwa angst!! it's saved to my drafts and i'm excited to read it!! and PLS not me making you cry oh no. free hugs for the tears i made you shed ahh </33

i'm so happy to hear your thoughts on this omg!! i think the whole 'if it were me, i wouldn't go back if they cheated' is really the struggle that was on my mind from the second i started this entire series. i kept going back and forth but i know i personally wouldn't or couldn't go back if someone did that to me. at the same time i struggled between a happy or sad ending so i kept going back and forth until i eventually realized that just like how the reader had to stick to their beliefs i felt i needed to do the same. that's why i really really appreciate that this shone through to you wow my heart.

honestly i think the part with the insecurities was one of my favorites especially in contrast to the things they miss and how much they still wanted to be with him idk something about it made me tear up while writing akhdjshdhd. i cried a lot writing this series tbh EYE-

i really wanted to get at the struggle of a real cheating situation even if i too have never been cheated on lmao so being able to convey this even a little is really making my heart do cartwheels oooo

wait don't apologize for the length i loved this so so much. IT WAS WORTH THE WAIT?? seriously such a high compliment wahh. dont worry i would've done the same like i love angst but sometimes my heart cant handle it

you're just so sweet oh my goodness thank you so much for your words. i am blown away by the support you give me. AND AN OIKAWA SMAU?? INSPIRED BY MY FIC?? i am ascending 😩😩 if you do decide to work on this i will be a puddle of tears on the floor and will support the heck out of it. pls just you mentioning that is an honor but no pressure to do it bb you write what you want to heheh <33

that last paragraph is just so nice i can't do this 💓💓 tysm bb ily