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desert-fern · 10 months

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The Walls Are Caving In - Jake Seresin X Reader

Pairing: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin X Fem!Reader (Known as Honey Bee/Honey)

Summary: You are sunshine incarnate, the life of the party who is so free with your affection. Jake finds himself struggling to express his desire to be like you while wrestling with his past, what happens when it all comes crashing down around him? AKA Jake is both touch-starved and in love.

Warnings: Jake has a shit dad, angst, still fluffy tho (lmk if I missed anything)

Word Count: 5.5k

A/N: This one-shot is inspired a little by the song In my Blood by Shawn Mendes. That and I really wanted to explore what could be going on inside the cocky man we all know and some of us fell in love with, so please enjoy 5k words of me putting Jake under the microscope.

===

Jake Seresin was a mystery to you.

The blonde man had always been standoffish around you, almost like he couldn’t stomach the thought of being near you. Yet when the other pilots came together, it was like Jake couldn’t be close enough, knocking elbows with Bob as he tried to take a sip of his drink and chuckling when the WSO had to set his drink down to give him a bewildered look. Jake would start teasing shoving matches with Rooster out on the beach, laughing as he got absolutely rocked back into the sand.

But when you were in the group? He was as far away from you as was considered polite.

The unfortunate thing was that you thrived on physical contact. You loved hugs, both giving them and receiving them. Fanboy had figured it out early on and would now run up and pull you off your feet to spin you around. It was nothing but playful, yet why did Jake always look at you strangely?

You’d given up on finding out, choosing to focus on your career as a base medic. It had been a dream of yours to be a doctor while growing up, but as you got older, you had to face the fact that it wasn’t the most financially sound decision. So you joined the Navy and found your calling as a medic. Between treating a few base personnel for coffee burns, the occasional broken toe from jamming it against a bench in the locker room, and the pilots and crew members who would pass out when the weather got too hot, you were thriving on your ability to always try and bring a smile and a listening ear to whoever came through the door needing help.

It was why you had become known as Honey Bee by the base dwellers, as you had taken to calling them. You were sweet and were genuinely interested in getting to know people, but if someone fucked around, you always had a whole swarm of people willing to makes sure they found out.

What you weren’t expecting from the job was to catch the eye of several of the Navy pilots, not for a lack of trying to dissuade them. You knew better than to shit where you ate, knew better than to mess around with a Navy man who could very well have a girl at any and every port of call. You were here to do your job first and foremost.

But that started to change. Jake had caught your eye, not just because of the blonde hair that always seemed to glow in the late afternoon California sun, the green eyes that seemed to clock where you were in a crowd, or because he was magnetic in a room of people, but because you wanted to know more about him. He was an enigma to you aside from his medical record. You knew that he’d broken his elbow in high school playing football, that he’d sprained an ankle tripping over a step, hell you even knew his medication allergies. But anything personal, you could forget about.

So you stuck it out, keeping your distance and content to smother the other pilots in your affection.

===

It was late in the evening as you watched Rooster play yet another song that was older than he was, his squadron around him yelling along to the words. You and Bradley had been close since the mission he refused to talk about, only that he and his godfather had nearly died. You two had also engaged in a casual relationship, hooking up on the off chance neither of you had a partner, but other than the occasional romp in the sheets, you two were as close as best friends. It’s why you were here tonight.

Taking a sip from your drink, you turned to watch the crowd around you, scanning the room and enjoying your people watching. You didn’t know how long you’d been staring around the room, but it had been long enough that Bradley had stepped away from the piano to stand behind you. “Hey Honey.”

You spun around, hand pressed to your chest. “Jesus fuck Bradshaw! You better not give your favourite medic a heart attack. Who else would treat your ass after you fell off another ladder?”

“That’s just rude, Honey Bee,” he teased, winking at you over his sunglasses that had fallen down his nose. “You know no one else fixes me up like you do.”

“Damn right. So watch it,” you shot back, snatching his sunglasses off his face and putting them on your own face. “Also sunglasses at 10 pm? Who are you fooling?”

He snorted, rolling his eyes at your smirk. “Okay, okay. I came over here to give you a hug ‘cause you’ve been sitting over here by yourself. But since you decided to be rude, I’m just gonna walk away.” Bradley turned, moving through the crowd away from you and towards his team on the other side of the bar.

“Fuck you!” You yelled after him, downing your drink and chasing after him. You caught up to him, tapping him on the shoulder and when he turned, you wrapped your arms around his middle, hugging him tightly. “You’re a real jerk, Bradshaw. You know that?”

He laughed, hugging you back. “And you’re a real smart ass for being as sweet as you are, Honey.” Bradley grinned down at you, pulling his aviators off your face and tucked an arm in the collar of his shirt. “Sometimes it feels like I gotta wrangle you.”

You pulled back grinning at him. “You love me.” You felt energised, like that one simple hug had been injected with jet fuel. You were a social butterfly if you had enough hugs throughout the night and thankfully the Daggers had a number of people who loved your playful teasing and joyous affection. It was how you spread your love and you would be damned if Bradley or his friends felt like you weren’t appreciative of how they kept him and each other safe.

“Regretfully,” he quipped, slapping your shoulder and moving over to where Phoenix and Coyote were chatting.

“Dick!” You called after him, laughing when he flipped you off, his back still turned.

You fell into easy conversation with Bob and Fanboy, grinning when Bob pressed his side to you for a moment after a particularly funny joke. And you continued to bounce around the little groups, laughing loudly and uproariously even though you’d only had one drink hours earlier. “How do you do it, Honey?” Payback asked after you’d come back from dancing with his WSO.

“Do what?”

“Have so much energy. I’d be exhausted if I were you.”

You grinned at him, a wide one showing your teeth. “Well Reuben, I see so many people because of work, but I’ve always been like this.”

“Now that,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. “That I can picture. Little baby Honey with two braids making friends with everyone on the playground.”

You laughed with him, feeling alive with the energy in the room. It was only when you glanced around at the other Daggers did you notice a storm cloud underneath the ray of sunshine you were casting over your friends.

“Why don’t you turn your charm on Bagman over there? Seems like his battery is wearing out.” You jumped nearly elbowing Phoenix in the face.

A shrug. “He’s not my biggest fan,” you said simply, missing how Reuben and Nat gave each other a look over your head. “Besides, I don’t want to ruin his night even more than it seems to be going.”

“Mmm,” Natasha hummed noncommittally. “Still, I think you should at least try.”

You turned around. “Why? You all see how he seems to always stand on the opposite side of the room from me, how he barely says two words to me.” There was a frown on your face, something so uncharacteristic that it nearly had Payback choking on his drink as he saw it cross your face.

Natasha just raised an eyebrow and you folded like cheap cardboard. “Fine, but he’s not going to like this.”

You wove through the crowd, making your way over to the jukebox where Jake stood contemplating a song choice. “Hey.”

“Hi.” He didn’t look up at you, choosing instead to stare at the song list you know he’d practically memorized.

A beat of awkward silence passed. “So…” you started again. “You have a song in mind or is it going to be a random choice?”

“Why? You have something you want to play instead?” His tone was sharp, like he was trying to brush you off and it startled you. You could feel Nat’s curious eyes on you and were half tempted to turn around and shout ‘See?!’ in her direction.

“N-no. I was just curious.” Now you were feeling unwelcome. Everything about his body language screamed ‘leave me alone’. He was tense, speaking through gritted teeth, hand white knuckling his beer bottle. “Especially since Rooster always seems to hijack the music whenever you pick a song.”

Jake didn’t say anything, going back to faking his pondering over song choices. You stayed for another moment, before nodding to yourself. “O-okay.” You gave him a hesitant smile before slipping away back towards Natasha. Seconds later, you heard Def Leppard begin to blare through the bar as Jake strolled through the crowd, using his size to gently pass a group of what looked like college girls, whose giggles seemed to carry over the music.

“See?!” You hissed at Natasha. “He would rather fake stare at a music selection he has memorized than talk to me. He clearly can’t stand me!”

Natasha just gave you a cryptic look before drawing you into a conversation about the strangest accident you had ever seen or had. It was enough to draw you focus away from the blonde pilot icing you out, but it also prevented you from catching Jake’s glances your way.

He’d managed to escape your notice for most of the night, choosing to keep to himself or chat with Coyote on the off chance you hadn’t barged into their little group. Contrary to what you thought, Jake didn’t hate you. In fact, he was almost envious of your ability to shine in a room this big. You bounced around like the light off a disco ball, your personality as vibrant as the colours that radiated off as it spun.

The biggest thing he was jealous of though, was the fact that you were free with your affection. You always had a hug and a smile for everyone and if anyone tried to dull your shine, it was like you couldn’t be touched. Jake was jealous of the easy way in which you could ask for a hug to satisfy you.

He couldn’t. Jake yearned for the freedom to be openly affectionate, craved the feeling of being held, but he had spent so long being told that men didn’t do that, that he had to suck it up and be a man. The few girls that had stuck around longer than just one night had never wanted to be close. Sure they had cuddled, but they had all drawn the line at him holding their hand, hugging them from behind. They had only seen him for the prowess and personality he exuded as Hangman, but he was tired of splitting himself down the middle. He wanted someone who wanted Jake too, not just the cocky persona he used to show off. The persona that had made his father spare half a glance his way. He wanted hugs. He just couldn’t ask for them, so he stayed away from you and your sunshine. Created distance between himself and your vibrancy, if only so you wouldn’t pick up on the fact that he desperately needed the affection you distributed in excess.

The half a day he’d spent under your care weeks ago stuck in his memory. Jake hadn’t managed to grab breakfast or lunch on a hot day, hadn’t had much sleep or water, and between the endless up and down, pulling G’s, and push-ups from losing an exercise, the heat became too much for him. He’d passed out halfway through his push-ups, falling face first to the tarmac and scaring the hell out of Hondo who was supervising.

He had been rushed immediately into the infirmary, falling into your capable hands. You had been incredibly gentle checking vital signs, your voice as soothing as a cool damp cloth pressed against feverish skin. You’d stolen his breath when you asked the questions you had memorized due to their frequency of use, and Jake felt like he’d been sucker punched. He didn’t remember much, having spent most of the experience sleeping, but he dreamt of you and every facet of you that had captured his heart and mind over the weeks you had gotten to know one another.

That experience was beside the point though. Instead of asking and being as open and carefree as you were with your love, Jake left himself to revel in the pats on the back, the handshakes, and bro hugs that were “appropriate for a man”. He let himself watch as you hugged Bradshaw, danced with Fanboy, and seemed closer to his squadron than he himself.

So he pushed you away and hoped you didn’t see through him.

===

Days later, you were bustling around the infirmary. You hadn’t seen the Daggers since the night at The Hard Deck and it was kind of taking a toll on your usual bubbly energy. You still had a smile for everyone, but it had started to become forced the longer your shift went on.

Earlier in the day, a pilot had passed out from the summer heat and hit his head hard enough that he bled. You had been filling out reports when the wall of noise hit you and you were on your feet in half a heart beat.

You hadn’t sat down since. That one accident had set off a never-ending queue of people walking through the doors and your feet hurt.

Sat at the desk at the front of the infirmary, you blew out a sigh. 10 more minutes. 10 minutes and then you could go home and relax.

“You good, Honey?” Bradley. You could recognize that smooth voice anywhere.

You nodded tiredly. “Yeah. Just really busy today.”

“I get that.”

“So.” You drew yourself up from your chair, stretching out your arms. “What can I do for you, Lieutenant?”

“I was hoping that you could check on Hangman.”

You blinked at him, thoroughly confused. “What?”

Bradley gave you a flat look. “You heard me.”

“Why?”

“Because he's been reckless lately. He’s going to get himself or someone else killed if he keeps flying like he has.” There was nothing but seriousness in his amber eyes. Every micro expression that flickered over your friend’s face was one of deep concern.

You nodded. “Okay. It will have to be tomorrow though, Roo. I just finished my shift.”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry Honey, but I’m worried about him. He won’t talk to anyone and Mav is at his wits’ end. Can you swing by today?”

Internally, you groaned. Jake hated you, you were convinced of that. Yet Bradley seemed genuinely concerned for his teammate and despite your best attempts, you hadn’t been able to put him from your mind. “Yeah, okay. But if he blows up at me, Roo, I swear to God I will hurt you.”

Rooster grinned. He knew your threat was an empty one, you both did. You cared about him too much to actually follow through with it. “Thank you, Honey. I owe you one.”

“Yeah, you do,” you grumbled as you walked forward to hug him, burying your face in his flight suit. “You really do.”

You felt him scoff as he hugged you back, pressing a gentle kiss to your head. You stayed like that for a moment before pulling back. “Have a good night, Honey.”

“Thanks Roo. Drive safe.”

And then he was gone.

Fuck. What had you just agreed to do? You buried your face in your hands and blew out a long breath. This was going to be a long night.

===

Bradley had texted you Jake’s address as you finished changing out of your scrubs. You knew he was worried, but a part of you was anxious about what would happen should Jake open the door and see you. Would he slam the door in your face? Would he invite you in and then hit you with the cold-shoulder?

Jake Seresin made you nervous. Pretty people always did, and Jake was no exception. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about the two of you, but you never let your fantasies go too far. They were delusions. Jake avoided you at any chance he could, so you had one chance to make sure that he understood that you didn’t resent him even if he so clearly did.

Twenty minutes later, you pulled into his driveway behind the black truck that was so quintessentially Jake it hurt. You walked up to the front door, ringing the doorbell and trying not to look as awkward as you felt.

The blue door opened up and Jake stared at you with confusion written all over his face. “What are you doing here?”

You swallowed, mustering up some courage to say “Rooster sent me. Can I come in?”

“Sure?” Jake held the door open, stepping aside to let you pass by him. “You have strange timing. I just got Bradshit off my ass.”

“Heh yeah. It’s almost like an intervention or something.” Inwardly, you were cringing. Why had you said that? God, it was like any social skills you had vanished the minute you were around the blonde man. “Your house is nice. I love the colour of the hardwood.”

“Thanks.” Jake’s voice was back to short and clipped. It was clear that he was on edge now. Likely thanks to your stupid comment. Why couldn’t the floor just crack open beneath you right now and spare you the awkwardness? “So why are you here?”

You took a deep breath, letting your eyes meet his own. “Rooster is worried about you. He didn’t say why, just that I should check on you.”

“I’m fine,” he said quickly, averting his gaze. His arms were crossed over his chest, the black T-shirt clinging mouthwateringly to his arms and shoulders- you shook yourself mentally, cringing again at your thoughts. “You can go now.” Jake’s rushed voice cut through your self-judgement and brought you immediately back into his entryway where he stood not quite glaring at you.

Your interest was piqued by his rush of words. “That was awfully quick,” you remarked as casually as you could. “Jake, whatever it is, I’m not going to judge you. I only want to help.”

“Like I said, I’m fine. You don’t need to worry about me.” Deep down, a part of him was screaming at himself to let you in. To let you help. He would tell you everything if you only asked, if you stayed a little longer. Jake clenched his hand into a fist, restraining himself from capturing you in a hug and never letting go. He shouldn’t have these thoughts. You were just being nice. It didn’t mean anything. Right?

“But I am going to. And your team is worried too.” You tried to reason with him, as you watched him closely.

Jake shook his head. “How many times do I have to say this? I. Am. Fine. Okay?” His voice was raised and he seemed just as shocked as you by his outburst. “I’m sorry, but I am fine.” No. God no. Why had he shouted? Even he could see right through himself, couldn’t you? He really hoped you did.

You gave him a kind smile, before replying “It’s okay, Jake. I’d offer a hug, but I know how much you hate them. If you need to talk, you know where to find me.” You turned back to the door, opening it up and slipping past Jake, your arm brushing his chest and his breath hitched.

Turning around, you faced him and watched his eyes land on everything but you. “Jake?” Your voice was quiet, like you were afraid to push him. “Are you really okay?”

He shook his head, still looking at the floor. “No,” he whispered. The fight had drained out of him, his resolve crashing down around him. When he did meet your eyes, you were astounded by the myriad of emotions you found swirling deep within the green irises.

“Where’s your living room?” You asked gently, hoping that you both could have this conversation in a more comfortable place. Especially since Jake looked like he would collapse at any moment.

“Down the hall,” he said hoarsely, pointing ahead of you both.

You offered your hand to him and could barely contain the shocked noise when he took it. You felt the calluses on his palms, the rough parts that scratched at your own hands, but there was also a softness in them. The parts he tried to keep out of the light. “Come, let’s go sit.”

You perched on the edge of the brown couch and patted the space next to you. When he sat, you noticed how it seemed like he had purposely left space between you both. “So,” you began cautiously. “What’s happened?”

There was silence for a moment, before Jake spoke. “Too much,” he mumbled so quietly that you barely heard him. “And I just… I don’t know how to fix it.” He was still lying to himself. He knew how to fix it, he was just scared of losing the persona he’d spent most of his life perfecting. He knew that he craved the closeness that you could give him, he just couldn’t ask for it.

“Hmmm…” your hum was soft. Everything about you was soft, Jake thought. It’s why you were so liberal with your love. “Well, can I help you?”

He nodded before he could stop himself. Jake risked it and finally glanced up at you. Where he was expecting judgement or pity, all he saw was empathy, kindness, and compassion. It nearly stole his breath at just how much you cared. You cared about him, even after everything. “Y-yeah. You can,” his voice cracked on the words, but he steeled himself and refused to look away.

You gave him a soft smile, watching his face carefully. Jake seemed to be at war with himself, torn between choosing what he always had or finally allowing himself what he needed. Swallowing, you spoke gently. “How can I help?”

Those four words were the breaking point for Jake who had been strong for too long. The bottle holding in all his yearning, his wishful thinking, all of it, exploded in his chest and he began to sob.

Your eyes flew wide and you immediately gathered him in your arms, turning him into your shoulder. A moment passed before you realized what you had done and you made to let go, but found that Jake had clung to your sweater as he cried.

Each tear set free something deep inside him and Jake knew that nothing would be the same after this. His grip on his feelings had slipped and here he was, sobbing into your shoulder like a child who’d lost their favourite toy. But despite the shame he felt, Jake couldn’t stop and a part of him didn’t want to. You were here, whispering soft words of comfort, your touch grounding him in a way that reminded him how long he’d been floating on his own.

His mind could only focus on the pain he was trying to purge from his body. With each sob, his resolve on his self-judgements snapped and they floated away on the river of tears he cried for the parts of him he had spent too long hiding for fear they would be stripped from him.

Then, with sudden clarity, Jake realized what he was doing. He was mourning everything he’d lost. Everything that had made little Jake Seresin who he was. The excitement of flying, loving his friends with everything he had, all of it gone to appease someone who had been gone from this world for years now. He only cried harder at the thought of his younger self watching who he was now and being disappointed, asking him why he’d stopped hugging people. Why he’d pushed away someone who loved hugs as much as he had.

His face was buried in your neck, the tears wetting your skin. He clung to you, so afraid that if he let go that you’d vanish. And when you vanished, you’d take with you your kindness, the love you spread around so easily, everything Jake knew he didn’t deserve. How could he? You were a sunbeam that had fallen from the heavens above, casting your warmth on everything and everyone you touched. You were magic to him.

Your heart broke for the man in your arms. You silently cursed the pressure he was under as a pilot and whatever rigidity in his upbringing had made it so he didn’t or couldn’t express his true feelings. It hurt to hear his sobs but you knew that this was years of pain, frustration, and anger pouring out of a narrow bottle he had tried so long to keep shut. “I’m here, Jake. Shhh, I’m here.”

“I’m sorry,” he cried. “I’m so sorry, Honey.”

He felt you stiffen and pull back just a little. “Look at me Jake.” He chanced it, looking up at your beautiful face, cataloguing the fierce look in your eyes that was offset by the gentleness of your touch. “Never, never apologize for your feelings. You hear me?” Jake nodded tearfully, swallowing around the lump in his throat. “You can let go of your burden right now. I’m here for you, Jake.”

Your words only set him off again. They reminded him so much of his mother’s own and it cut him deep. She was the light in his life until somehow you’d eclipsed it. She had always given him the love he had craved and had been denied by his father, who had raised him never to express his emotions, yet he’d forgotten about anger. Mark Seresin was an angry man trapped inside the supposed standards of how a Texan man ought to be. He was needlessly hard on his boys, believing that it was his duty to ensure that every emotion had been beaten and worked out of them. He had raised his sons that crying was for babies and little girls. But he would never know how much damage had been done from his ‘tough love’. Mark Seresin would never see his sons snap under the pressure he had placed upon them and Jake was more than okay with that.

And so Jake poured that story out between tears, keeping his hands caught in the fabric of your hoodie, desperately trying to keep you close. He couldn’t have you slipping away from him, but even though he’d cried all over you, ripped open the deepest darkest parts of himself, you didn’t move except to slide backwards on the couch, settling yourself. You had cemented yourself in his life just by holding him close and Jake knew that you could never be aware of just how much that meant to him, how much he loved you for that.

You were going to stay. You held him as his sobs petered out. Held him close as he brought his breathing back to normal, and even as he tried apologizing. But you refused to hear it. “I said I wasn’t going anywhere and I meant it, Jake. Okay?” Your voice was still soft, your hand rubbing circles on his back as you both lay on his couch. He had his head pillowed on your chest, lying there despite the late hour. “You know you can talk to me, right? I meant it when I said I wouldn’t judge.”

“I know.” Jake hated how small his voice sounded, but he was so tired. Tired of the judgement he inflicted upon himself, the arbitrary scale he used to compare himself to others. He just wanted to rest and he was scared. His hard shell had been weakened under his breakdown and this was so new to him. Jake felt exposed, like he’d been stripped naked before you and left to face your judgement.

The only question was: would you still love him after this?

Jake was shaken from his thoughts when you said his name in that soft voice of yours. “What are you thinking about?”

He hummed. “How much I regret crying. I have a headache,” Jake let out a little chuckle at his words. “God, Honey, what do you think of me right now?”

“Honestly?”

“Yeah.”

You smiled at him. “I’m thinking about how strong you are, how much courage it took you to be so brave. You let your guard down and I am so proud of you for that, Jake.”

Jake’s cheeks pinked. “I might cry again if you keep that up,” he said thickly, swallowing the lump in his throat that threatened to choke him.

“I mean it. I am so proud of you, Jake Seresin, and I will say it as many times as I need to so it gets through your thick skull.” Your tone left no room for argument, but you were still smiling down at him, and the warmth of it washed over him like pulling a thick quilt over oneself during the deepest winter storm.

“I-I think I…” Jake trailed off, catching the end of his sentence before he could say it, before he could confess right then and there. “I have shit timing, holy fuck.”

You only raised a confused eyebrow at him. “Jake, what…?”

“I love you.”

He felt your giggle against his cheek, heard the peals of laughter go ringing through his ears. “I know, you sap. I love you too.”

“Wha- How did you know?”

“The infirmary. When you passed out a few weeks ago because you hadn’t had enough to eat, you were mumbling in your sleep. I just assumed you were calling your partner honey, but then you called me Honey Bee when you woke up and I just knew.” When Jake met your gaze, he saw your eyes full of what could only be described as the purest love. “I think I knew before you did.”

Jake laughed, shaking his head. “Well then,” he began. “Think I should make it official then?” He’d pushed himself up onto his elbows on either side of you and smiled down at you.

You looked adorably confused under his gaze, so he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. You hadn’t expected it so you let out a muffled squeak that made Jake chuckle against your lips when he pulled away. “Honey…”

A wide grin nearly split your face in two as you looked up at Jake hovering over you. It took nothing for you to cup his face in your hands and pull him down into yet another kiss, this one more intense, intoxicating one another on the feeling of your lips slotting together.

Jake rested his forehead against yours, his breathing heavy and those green eyes, the ones that had enchanted you from the minute you met, fell shut. “Honey. My Honey Bee…” he whispered millimeters from your lips.

“Yours,” you whispered back, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek so lightly Jake thought he’d imagined it. “I’m yours, and you’re mine, because you know that I will not be an idle partner in this relationship, mister.”

He laughed and it had never sounded so carefree to his ears. You had broken through his walls, forcing your way in with a touch so gentle Jake hadn’t seen you coming until you held his heart at your mercy and by the grace of whatever God sat in the heavens, you had breathed joy and light back into his soul. Jake was utterly devoted to you and your light, wholly captivated by you. You had remade him with laughter in his heart, reshaped his broken heart in your capable, yet gentle hands.

“-ake? Jake? Where’d you go?” Worry had seeped into your tone, your brows furrowing under the concern you felt. He’d spaced out a few times now, and while you were worried, you knew that it was likely residual doubt and his own way of trying to process the events prior. “You should go to bed, Jakey. It’s late.” Your thumb traced the ridge of his jawline, bringing him back into himself.

“Stay.” The words were out before he could stop them. “Please.”

“Okay.”

One word, and Jake knew that he’d be alright, that he was safe.

You were here to stay, his Honey Bee.

===

A/N: big thanks to Star for proofreading and telling me that this wasn’t absolute hot garbage! And for the record, this isn’t Jake’s Dagger Comfort fic. That is still in the pipeline somewhere lol

Taglist: @sarahsmi13s @startrekfangirl2233 @lovinglyeternal @bradleybeachbabe @horseshoegirl @roosterforme @cherrycola27 @dakotakazansky @thedroneranger @aviatorobsessed @csmt-m

#the walls are caving in #fern writes #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin imagine #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin fic #jake seresin angst #jake seresin fluff

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hades-in-bloom · 9 months

Text

Shower Thoughts

Leon S. Kennedy x Reader

summary: Leon has just returned from another soul-crushing mission—and you didn't happen to be home yet.

warnings & contents: heavy angst, our sweetpea is hurt; suicide trigger/thoughts; implied severe depression; assumed older Leon; implied military training on the reader; more hurt than comfort; mentions of death and violence, and blood; could be read as age gap but could be none; the reader could be of any gender; there's light at the end of the tunnel.

a/n: I was craving some angst but didn't plan it to go that far; oh well. Our sweet boy deserves all the happiness though—but author is a bitch. Also, I don't believe Leon would be seriously considering harming himself, but I do believe that he's an empathetic human being kidnapped in his youth to do a shitty job, so there could be a moment of weakness; otherwise, “we owe it to the people who died alongside us, so we have to continue living.” As always, proceed at your own risk. DNI minors & if mentions of suicide affect you. This is a work of fiction and shouldn't be used as guidance on how to behave in similar sensitive situations. Masterlist

***

Leon rubbed his hands under the hot tap forcefully, willing to wash off the blood; the water coming off his fingers was clean for a while, but he seemed not to notice it—after all, there was always blood on his hands, whether others could see it or not. The man only stopped when the touch started to hurt, his abused skin red from friction.

“Shit,” Leon grunted under his breath and turned off the faucet angrily, his breathing ragged. Others might say that it was adrenaline still rushing through his veins, but he knew it wasn’t it. For how long he’s done this job, he was past the prolonged adrenaline rush a while ago. Leon put his palm over his forehead, barely covering his exhausted eyes; his hands slightly shaking.

How many more people had to die before this shit would end?

He remembered them all, those he couldn’t save, and he only kept counting. Leon knew he wasn’t supposed to—saving ordinary folk was a luxury in his position—but it was hard for him to accept who he had become. The extensive bathroom mirror in front of him, he couldn’t level his gaze to take a look at himself, and when he did, his teeth clenched, and his glance shot into the corner of the reflection—there was his essential gear, a pistol and a knife, thoughtlessly dropped on the bathroom floor.

Suddenly, he felt exhausted. A carnal thought made him blush in a fever—wouldn’t it be so easy? Leon was never the type to look for easy ways out—but he was only of flesh and blood, too; isn't he only human? Despite what reports said about him always being “the survivor” and “the golden boy.” Screw the odds.

He picked up his gear from the floor, his palm sliding across the pistol barrel. Leon counted the bullets left in the magazine with another hand, pulling it back into the grip compartment right after; his facial expression was unreadable, deprived of emotion. In moments like this, the man wasn't sure if he could feel anything anymore.

Wouldn't it be so easy, after all? Maybe after that, he'll be able to wake up from this bloody nightmare.

Consumed by his thoughts, he didn't hear how the keys screeched in the lock of the apartment door, and you came in.

You noticed his jacket on the hanger, and your eyebrows shot to your forehead in surprise.

“Leon?” you called to him, dropping bags full of groceries next to the kitchen island; your body tensed in anticipation. You didn't expect him so early. After his assignments, he usually barged in the middle of the night and not in the light of day. You didn't complain, though. You missed him.

You gently knocked on the bathroom door when you heard muffled sounds from another side. “Hey,” your voice was calm and soothing. “Can I come in? Do you need help?” At this point, you got used to his bruises and stitches, caring only about him getting back home in one piece.

There was something more to his injuries this time.

“Shit,” Leon cursed under his breath again when you stepped into the bathroom, despairing of getting a word out of him. You were worried; he could see it on your face. You quickly noticed his scalded hands, the right one behind his back, hiding something. He looked like a curious teenager who got caught watching adult movies.

“Hey,” his lips stretched into an unnatural smile. “Sorry, I didn't hear you come in…”

“You should've called me,” you scolded him calmly, making a step forward. His body tensed and froze as soon as you stretched your hand toward him, and you held back a frown. “…I would’ve been home in a heartbeat.”

The man’s eyes were bloodshot, his lips chapped, and his breath ragged; and then you saw it—the reflection in the mirror betraying him—his long fingers clinging to the gun. Your mouth went agape, and you dashed forward with a precision of a trained police officer.

“Give it to me,” you hissed, your heart beating in your throat. You were scared—you haven't been that afraid of in ages. Leon gasped, bamboozled, and his hand easily let go of a weapon. You didn’t ask—you slapped him across the face, letting your frustration out. “Are you mad? What were you going to do with this thing?”

You would react differently if he wasn’t hiding it; somehow this bothered you more than anything. After all, Leon should’ve known that you wouldn’t fumble at the sight of a gun, which made his attempts to cover its presence even more pointless.

His cheeks flushed, and he gulped, incapable of looking at you; he was confirming your worst fears, and after giving him a long stare, your hand covered your mouth to stop you from sobbing.

“Moron,” you grunted under your breath. His head got even lower, and you saw a tear falling onto the lightly colored tile. It took you a moment before you grabbed him into an angry, desperate embrace. His hands wrapped around your waist, then one shot into your hair, pressing at the back of your head, pulling you closer. His face was buried into your neck, and his body shook violently as he let himself cry.

You held him painfully close as long as it was necessary. “I am sorry,” you whispered next to his ear while he clung to you like a drowning man to a lifeboat; you sounded hurt and angry—and hopeful. “I am so, so sorry.”

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bloodynereid · 1 month

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Could I request a scream story where reader is Tara and Sam’s younger adopted sibling who had a rough life, and they think the others’ lives are more important than theirs, and they get hurt and Tara and Sam are protective but scared for them?

Of Flowers Flooded With Blood

pairing: tara carpenter x sam carpenter x adopted sister reader (platonic)

warnings: blood, stab wounds, mentions of murder, hospitals, hiding injuries, near death experience, general scream warnings

description: when you hide a stab wound from your siblings and it almost has disastrous consequences.

a/n: I AM SO SORRY i swear i was going to write this earlier and then just didn't. i hope this little drabble makes up for it though! i had fun writing it so i hope you enjoy.

The adrenaline started to dissipate slowly. You were sitting on the concrete sidewalk, not caring about how dirty the New York street was. The distant sounds of sirens and talking from your sisters felt like background noise, they kept fading in and out as you tried to take deep breaths.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah, Tara. Are you?” You said, straining a smile when your older sister sat down next to you. She wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into her. The action sent a pang of pain through your side that you were trying to ignore.

“Better than I was when three crazy murderers were coming at us.”

“I’m sorry about Chad.” You said suddenly, giving your sister a reassuring pat on her knee.

“Me too.” Tara uttered sadly as she pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

“Hey guys. Ambulance is coming soon.” Sam said as she sat down to the other side of you, mirroring the motions of Tara she put an arm around your other shoulder. The three of you were now in some kind of makeshift hug.

“You okay, Sam?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. Are you?”

“Hmmm.” You hummed in affirmation as you felt the heat and love from your sisters encase you. Lulling you into a space right before something as the pain in your side got stronger.

Under the layers of blood on your shirt and jacket lay a deep stab wound, one that Ethan probably got into you right before you smashed one of the glass cases on his head. It felt irrelevant to tell your sisters about, Tara was already starting to mourn Chad and well Sam had this haunted look in her eyes that was beginning to scare you.

You weren’t even their real sister, even if you shared a bond you hadn’t been their sister until a few years ago. You used to just be Tara’s friend until their mom adopted you and the crazy events dealing with Amber and Richie happened.

The sounds of an ambulance got louder and louder as the world started to blur around you. A few moments later your head suddenly slumped down and everything was black. Leaving you in the void between life and death and your sisters in a state of complete and utter panic.

Loud beeping slowly pulled you out of the darkness, it almost felt like you were floating. Maybe you had died. A feeling of sadness washed over you when you realized you would be leaving your sisters behind. You should have said something…

Your thought spiral was suddenly interrupted when the feeling of a solid warm was felt all around you. As if someone or two someones were holding you.

“Ugh?” You groaned and tried to open your eyelids, only to feel shuffling from both sides of the bed.

“Sweetheart? Are you awake, little sis?” Sam’s distinct rasp made a smile slowly tug on the corners of your mouth.

“Sam?”

“Yeah, I’m here. I’m here. You’re okay.”

“Oh God, don’t do that ever again.” This time Tara’s voice cut through the fog that you now knew was caused by painkillers, not death.

“Tara?”

“I’m here too. You’re going to be just fine.”

“Hmmm. I love you guys.”

“We love you too, now go back to sleep, sweetheart. You deserve the rest.” You felt a pair of lips press a kiss to your forehead as you were slowly pulled under again. This time fear wasn’t gripping you with its claws, instead it was love and joy for knowing that you had your sisters there.

i am getting through requests yayy! i have another scream rq in my inbox so expect that at some point soon.

#tara carpenter #sam carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara x reader #sam x reader #sam carpenter x reader #scream vi #scream 6 #scream 2022 #scream x reader #scream x you #scream x yn #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x y/n #scream franchise

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its-time-to-write · 10 months

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Hi!! I hope you’re well !! Thank you so much for keeping the Jaimie Tartt community well fed like I will forever be in your debt you’re amazing‼️‼️ My humble request is in honor of SNTV:) My favorite songs are Enchanted and Sparks Fly so maybe a complicated angsty start up to a fluffy love confession (like they just haven’t gotten the timing right until now or they were friends and then something happens to her). IDK anyway sorry for the word vomit and thank you bunches for all your hard work!!

I loved this request!! Also sorry, all my fics seem to be ending the same way this days😬 But we keep getting to the ending in new and exciting ways so hopefully no one cares! Enjoy!

wonderstruck

You knew the moment you met Keeley Jones that your friendship was going to be a wild ride. You were still in uni, and had picked up a one-off job as one extra on a commercial shoot. The pay wasn’t bad (hey, it was extra money) and you were willing to sacrifice a Saturday for it. Keeley was one of the frontrunners for the commercial, all big hair and wild makeup. You had bumped into her by chance at the food table, started talking, and the rest was history. One random job turned into a solid four years of friendship. It was a funny dynamic between you and Keeley, because she was both older sister and antagonizer. She liked to pull you out of your comfort zone, taking you to clubs, parties, events, whatever as her plus one. Well, until she started dating a prick footballer named Jamie Tartt.

You didn’t meet him while they were together. You’d already known Keeley for two and a half years at that point, and understood she had shit taste in men. You weren’t afraid to tell her that to her face and she’d just laugh and say, “I know babes, but it’s right fun, innit?”

You’d laugh and shake your head, then go back to carefully painting her nails in the brightest, sparkliest colors imaginable.

Keeley was really, really good for you.

She called you the night she broke up with Jamie, and you came over to her house with a giant bottle of champagne only to find her and another woman, a Rebecca Welton, already proper tipsy and giggling on the floor. They were still dolled up from that night’s benefit while you were in pajamas, but you didn’t let that stop you. You downed half a bottle while Keeley and Rebecca cheered. You were glad Keeley had dumped that awful, cheating, self-absorbed prick. She deserved so much better.

You were glad when she started dating Roy Kent. He was a lot more down-to-earth than she was, and they were a good balance for each other. You wondered if Keeley gravitated toward those of a more serious nature in the same way you were drawn to those who were more spontaneous.

Post-uni, you had started your own business. It was kind of a random venture, something you had begun for a friend, but then it took off. You made the most outrageous, eccentric day-to-day dresses, taking a simple pattern then transforming it with wild patterns, tulle, and the occasional sparkle. Keeley, angel that she was, modeled some of them and put them on her instagram. And just like that, you were selling out.

It was absolutely insane, but you were able to spend the week making two dresses and then turn over a nice profit. You felt like you were overcharging but Keeley said, “Babe, if you’re selling out, you might be undercharging.”

All that to say, life with Keeley Jones as your friend was absolutely magical. You’d do anything for her. Including going to a fucking benefit as her plus one.

—

“Why can’t you just take Roy?”

“Roy’s already got his own invite. He’s a coach, so he has to be there even though he’s going to fucking hate it.” Keeley laughs. She thinks Roy’s grumpiness is endearing.

“Alright, why’d you get a plus one then? It doesn’t make sense, Keels,” you counter.

Keeley refuses to meet your eyes. “It’s entirely possible that Rebecca gave me one so that you’d come.”

“Keeleyyy,” you groan.

She shoves your shoulder playfully. “She knew if she sent you a direct invite you wouldn’t go, and she said she’d let us meet up at her house to get ready together! C’mon babes, it’s going to be so much fun and we’ll look sooo fucking fit walking the red carpet together, yeah?”

She gives you her widest puppy-dog eyes, lower lip pushing out. You sigh.

“Fucking fine. Fine. But you’re coming with me to pick out a dress. And you’re buying my coffee.”

Keeley cheers and tackles you in a hug. “You won’t regret it, I swear. Worst case you can just bitch about it with Roy the next day.” You laugh. You and Roy bitch about a lot of things together.

—

The red carpet is absolutely terrifying. It’s louder than you would have thought and the flashes from the camera are giving you a headache.

“How the hell do you do this?” you ask Keeley through a smile.

She laughs for the cameras. “Loads of practice, babe,” she replies in a perfect pose. “Now look at me and laugh at something I said.”

You’re almost done and the paps are asking for a photo of Keeley and Roy, so you wait off to the side near the entrance for them. You crane your neck to try to find Rebecca, to no avail. You do however catch the eye of someone with a very nice fashion sense and very, very blue eyes. He gives you a once-over and grins. You blush and turn back to Keeley and Roy who have finished and are making their way over to you. Keeley grabs your hand and says, “Hi Jamie!” while Roy rolls his eyes. Jamie says, “Hey Keeley,” and nods to Roy. “Grandad.”

“Fuck you,” Roy replies, and you’re surprised at the borderline affectionate tone he’s using. Especially considering Jamie is Keeley’s ex. He’s not really what you would have expected, but you don’t have time to dwell on that because Keeley’s dragging you inside the benefit venue.

—

Jamie is sitting at the same table as you.

Correction: he’s sitting right fucking next to you and it’s all you can do to avoid eye contact with him. You had introduced yourself to him with a barely suppressed grimace and steeled yourself for a long, misogyny-filled night.

You were so tense that Keeley put her hand on your knee and said, “I’ve got to go reapply my lipliner, d’you want to come with?”

You got up and followed her, feeling far too exposed in your backless, purple-sequined dress.

“Alright babe, what gives?” she asks once you’ve made it to the bathroom. “You’re wound up so tight I could stick coal up your ass and get a diamond.”

That makes you crack a smile and you shrug. “I’m just tired, that’s all.”

Keeley shakes her head. “Don’t you fucking lie to me, I’ve had four years of practice knowing exactly when you’re telling me a fib.”

“Who’s fibbing?” Rebecca says, walking in the door. “I saw Keeley drag you in here, and I didn’t want to miss out on some girl talk.”

“Oh thank god you’re here,” you say, relieved. “I’ve been looking for you for the past hour and couldn’t find you.”

Rebecca self-consciously smooths her hair. “I’ve been- busy,” she says. “But this isn’t about me. What are you fibbing about?”

You look between Rebecca and Keeley then deflate. “I have to sit next to Jamie Tartt.”

Keeley and Rebecca share a look. “I don’t see what that’s such a bad thing,” Rebecca says.

You look at her in disbelief. “Jamie Tartt? The biggest prick in all of London, and quite possibly all of England? Cheated on Keeley multiple times and all-around arsehole?”

Keeley grimaces. “Yeah, not one of his finer points in life.”

“See?” you say. “He’s the fucking worst!” Rebecca and Keeley share another look.

“Stop fucking doing that,” you say. “What?”

“Darling,” Rebecca says gently, “he’s changed.”

You’re not buying it, a sentiment that is evident in your expression.

“It’s true, babes,” Keeley affirms. “And look, I’d probably be the fucking last person to say it. But he has! He’s loads better than he used to be, an absolute sweetheart. Even Roy loves him.”

You snort.

“Okay, maybe love is a strong word,” Keeley amends. “But he likes him! Roy said Jamie’s the best player on the team, and possibly one of the best in the country!”

You’re still not buying it.

“Listen,” Rebecca says. “Give him one hour free of bias. Forget who he was and give him a chance. You might be surprised.”

You look to Keeley, unsure. It is her ex, after all.

To your surprise, she’s smiling and nodding. “Go for it,” she says. “You never know what could happen.” She wiggles her eyebrows at you and you laugh. Only Keeley Jones could try to pawn her ex off on her best friend with the confident assurance that he’s a better man now. You know she’s not lying, or at least she believes Jamie’s changed. You’re not sure what to believe, but you’ll take Rebecca’s advice and give Jamie one hour to change your mind.

—

You’re not in your seat two seconds before Jamie starts talking to you.

“Why d’you look so nervous love? I don’t bite.” He grins. “Much.”

You catch yourself before you grimace and instead say, “This whole thing isn’t really my scene. It’s a lot of people I don’t know, and I’m only here ‘cause Keels asked me to be her plus one.”

Jamie still has that obnoxious grin on his face. “What does Roy think about you stealing his girlfriend? Can’t imagine he’d take it lying down.”

You glance over at Keeley and Roy. His arm is around the back of her chair and she’s leaning into him ever so slightly.

You say, “I’ve been here longer than he has, so if anyone’s stolen her, it’s him,” and you watch the pieces click into place in Jamie’s head.

“Shit,” he says. “You’re the best friend. Shoulda known when you told me your name.”

You shrug.

“Makes sense,” he continues. “I wondered why you weren’t fuckin’ beside yourself to be sitting by the fittest bloke in the room.”

You roll your eyes, hint of a smile tugging at your lips.

He pulls his chair a little closer and looks at you again with those perfect blue eyes. “Seriously, I am sorry. I was a prick. It took Keeley breaking up with me for me to start gettin’ my head out of me arse.” Jamie’s words back up what Keeley and Rebecca told you. You’re not entirely ready to brush his past under the rug, but tell him that it seems like he did a right proper job of it, which makes him laugh.

“Do you really think you’re the fittest guy in here?” you ask.

Jamie gestures to the room. “Look around, babe. I ain’t lying.”

You laugh, and the tension dispels. You’ve 55 minutes to go, and then you can go back to hating him. For now, you’ll let him keep cracking jokes.

—

The hour is up, but you’re still talking to Jamie. You don’t stop to consider why he’s still talking to you (maybe because he can’t stand the idea of anyone hating him) but he is. It’s actually enjoyable, so when he asks you to accompany him to the dance floor, you look to Keeley for approval instead of outright rejecting him.

Keeley says, “Go on babe, I’m gonna try to convince this one to get out there for at least one dance,” and Roy says, “Fuck no.”

You let Jamie take your hand as he promises, “No funny business, I swear,” and you just laugh.

You laugh through three songs because Jamie has a way of making you giggle. He swings you around and executes all kinds of moves that you’re sure you could never replicate, but you assume that being a Premier League footballer means he’s got to be coordinated. Makes sense that he can dance.

The fourth song is a slow one, so you move to leave the dance floor but Jamie catches your hand.

“Stay,” he says. “I’m having a really great time with you.”

You feel Keeley kick the bottom of your shoe from where she’s swaying with her arms around Roy’s neck.

It makes you stumble a little, just enough for Jamie to have to catch you. He grins. “I’ll take that as a yes then.”

He puts your hands around his neck and his on your waist. It’s a soft touch, but you can feel sparks shooting up your hipbones.

You’re absolutely fucked.

Jamie doesn’t say a single thing, just sways along with the soft music and gazes into your eyes. You can’t look away no matter how hard you try.

The song ends and you let go of Jamie. He slides a hand up you waist and down your arm, lifts your hand to his lips, and kisses your inner wrist.

Before you can form a coherent thought, he’s gone.

Rebecca and Keeley are on you in a moment.

“You’re both coming to mine,” Rebecca says. “You have time to go home and get pajamas, but I’m getting out of here as soon as I can. I just made sure my pantry was restocked.”

—

It’s 2am. Rebecca and Keeley have successfully gotten you to admit that you like Jamie.

Against all odds, you like him.

Fuck.

“You’re sure it’s not weird?” you ask Keeley as you pace around Rebecca’s bedroom.

“For the millionth time, babe,” she says, “I really don’t. I think you two would be fucking adorable together.”

Rebecca nods in agreement. “I’m on Keeley’s side on this one. Jamie used to be a right little shit, but he’s really turned it around. And could you please stop wearing a hole in my rug? It’s giving me anxiety.”

You abruptly stop and plop down on the bed. “What if he doesn’t like me? What if he was only trying to make me not hate him because I’m Keeley’s best friend?”

Rebecca makes an offended noise so you amend: “Sorry, one of Keeley’s best friends?”

“Listen,” Keeley says making her way to your spot on the end of the bed. She holds your arms. “I know Jamie. He was fucking interested. And he hasn’t been that way in a while. You should just fucking go for it.”

“I don’t know,” you say slowly. Rebecca and Keeley groan and flop back onto the bed.

“You’re absolutely hopeless,” Rebecca says, but it’s laced with affection. You grin.

“That’s why you love me.”

—

You don’t sleep. Keeley is sandwiched between you and Rebecca on Rebecca’s absolutely massive bed, and all you can think about is Jamie’s blue eyes and the sparks of electricity you felt wherever he touched you.

You can still feel the kiss on your wrist.

—

It rains for three days and you refuse to go to Nelson Road. Keeley’s out sick anyway, and Rebecca is busy with work. You are too, working on a commission in electric blue. It’s very cozy inside your flat, soft music playing as the rain plinks on your roof. You’re wearing your good sweats, the ones that match and don’t have stains. Your hair is freshly clean and pulled back in a clip and there’s a pot of tea on the stove.

Your heartbeat has not been normal since dancing with Jamie. It’s beating in an irregular pattern, horrendously out of sync with the calming sound of rain. You can’t get it to calm down so you decide to indulge and replay your entire interaction with Jamie, as a treat.

You’re just thinking about his hands on your waist and letting your mind wander to where else you think they should go, when there’s a knock on the door. You frown.

That’s odd. Who on earth could be at your door at 7pm on a Monday in pouring rain? You pad across the living room to the door and open it to find a very wet Jamie.

“Hi,” he says, and then he’s pulling you onto the porch and kissing you in the pouring rain.

You’re soaked through to the bone, but you don’t care. All you can feel is Jamie’s hair as you run your fingers through and his lips on yours as they devour you. It’s straight out of a movie.

You shiver, and Jamie breaks away.

“Got your address from Keeley,” he says. “She’s the one who told me to come here. Can we go inside?”

You nod mutely and let him in. “Aren’t you cold?” you ask.

He just laughs. “Nah babe, I run hot. You look right fucking freezing, though. Good thing I’m here, I’ll help you warm right up.”

You’re really starting to shiver. “You should get out of those clothes,” you say through chattering teeth.

“Could say the same about you,” Jamie replies. “Where’s your bedroom at?”

You all but drag him up the stairs to your room.

You think you’re going to kill Keeley for telling Jamie you liked him, but then you’re flat on your back, bare skin pressing into the duvet as Jamie Tartt presses hot kisses up your neck, and you forget all about her.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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darklinsblog · 2 years

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New Beginnings | Sandman imagine

Summary: After Calliope’s cry for help, Morpheus goes to her rescue and the muse finds out her former lover has moved on.

Pairing: Morpheus x Reader

Request: Yes

When Morpheus heard Calliope’s calling he was quick to attend and free her from her imprisonment. Out of respect and honoring for the love and grief they shared, Morpheus wouldn’t be capable of lying to himself, as Calliope was undoubtedly a huge part of his story and once was the mother of his child, he couldn’t just sit around and do nothing.

He still felt an immense love for her, and it made his blood boil to find out about her confinement in the hands of Richard Madoc, so he made sure that he would get the right punishment for his atrocities, the man didn’t deserve mercy. Men such as him were rats, cowards who had to be taught a lesson.

For the first time in ages Calliope was free and while she was grateful to Oneiros she was also wondering if he still had feelings for her, out of the wrath he depicted when he imparted justice and the immense tension that filled the room when Morpheus was alone with her.

No matter how much time they spent apart, Calliope still knew her former lover like the back of her hand, and they still couldn’t bring up the subject of their son. But knowing how apprehensive the Endless was, she highly doubted he even acknowledged his pain and grief.

Seeing as he almost walked out that door and it would probably take ages for her to see Oneiros again, she dared to speak.

“May I visit you in the Dream Realm sometime…” His dark blue eyes fixated on her, shining with indescribable emotion. “So that we may finally talk about our son?”

Morpheus opened his mouth to speak, finally understanding the closeness of Calliope was a demonstration of her restraint love, a love maybe she wasn’t even aware that was still there…

But before he could say something female voice he knew very well filled his ears and draw his attention along with Calliope’s.

“Bubs?” A thin woman was outside, just a few feet away from where Morpheus was standing, she was radiant and beautiful, looking at the eternal man with love, when looking carefully at his expression Calliope could see how Morpheus’ face lighted up at the side of you, his whole face changed.

The muse’s heart shattered quietly, the bit of hope she had in Oneiros still loving her died right there. Suddenly, two little kids not older than three years old came out from under your skirt, the toddlers ran in Morpheus direction and he welcomed them with open arms.

You walked over to Morpheus and he was quick to grab you by the waist and kiss you softly. You grabbed your arms around his neck, smiling.

“I’m sorry, love. They insisted”

“It was a very nice surprise” Dream said, picking his daughter up. While your son had his eyes fixated on Calliope who’s eyes watered at the sight of the raven haired boy, he was the living image of Oneiros and her heart ached as she was reminded of the son she lost centuries ago.

For the first time since you arrived you looked at Calliope and she looked back at you, smiling lightly with nostalgia.

“I’m sorry, I’m Y/N. Queen and wife to Morpheus” you reached out your hand to her, she shook it and was reminded of the time she was his as well.

“Calliope” she replied, you nodded slightly, something in your eyes changed, it was some sort of acknowledgment. Of course you knew who she was.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you”

“Likewise” you turned to Morpheus.

“We should leave now, darling it’s getting late” your children whined, protesting.

“But we want to see the Waking World, mama!” the older twin spoke, pouting and batting his long eyelashes at you.

“We’ll have plenty of time to see it, Acanthus” Morpheus told his son, kneeling before him and pinching his nose lightly, making the boy giggle.

“You promise, papa?” Now his daughter spoke, he nodded.

“I promise, Roseann. Now please go back with your mother to the Dreaming. I’ll join you shortly” both of his children complied his command and said goodbye to their father and Calliope before vanishing with you to the Dream realm.

Morpheus looked at Calliope once again, the whole atmosphere changed when getting a glimpse of his new life. The muse now understood that was the tension she felt earlier, the nervousness from a kept secret and not an unexpressed love as she believed at first.

“A rose and a thorn…” Calliope murmured, making Morpheus smile weakly, imagining how she must felt at this specific time.

“One cannot exist without the other, and being twins… it seemed fitting. Y/N suggested it, actually” the muse giggled.

“Of course” there was a minute of silence after that. “You have a beautiful family, Oneiros. I’m happy for you” he smiled, Morpheus was truly happy now, after centuries of grief and pain and he wished the same for his former lover. But all he could say was two simple words.

“Goodbye, Calliope”

“I will never forget this. Fare you well”

Then, Morpheus disappeared in a swirl of sand, leaving Calliope standing all by herself under the moonlight, but being left with another important thing…

Freedom.

#love #the sandman comics #sandman imagine #sandman netflix #dream of the endless #morpheus dream #sandman x reader #tom sturridge x reader #dream of the endless x reader #morpheus imagines #morpheus sandman #morpheus x reader #morpheus #sandman x y/n #neil gaiman #tom sturridge #sandman shitpost #dream headcanons #sandman headcanons

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wolfjackle-creates · 1 year

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Ghost!Robin Part 4

Here's your next part of the Ghost!Robin fic for WIP Wednesday. I'm gonna start putting fic designation in the title field rather than WIP Wednesday because I think it makes it easier to read.

Also, everyone came out in numbers for last week's segment! Damn! Thank you and I'm glad so many of you are enjoying this little fic of mine. We'll probably get one more week of this before I go back to Bring Me Home, but it'll depend what I feel like. I want to rework some of what I have written next.

First, Previous

1.1k words + a 464 word Omake (cut scene)

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Tim asked more details on the specs of the PDA which Danny happily answered. The things he built with Tucker were always his favorite inventions.

“So are you in school to become an engineer or something?” asked Dick who’d gotten Damian calmed down and sitting. The boy had gotten his knife back and was spinning it in his hands. Bruce seemed to be fondly exacerbated by the scene. Robin had pulled out a ghostly weapon and was trying to copy Damian’s movements, though he wasn’t quite as adept.

Danny shook his head to Dick’s question. “Nah. Hard to get into engineering school when you fail high school.” Danny narrowed his eyes as Damian’s mouth opened, but Dick whispered in his ear again and the boy didn’t say anything.

“I ended up dropping out of high school and getting a GED,” said Tim. “It can work just as well.”

Robin was nodding along and pointing at himself, too. Had he died before he could complete his schooling, too?

“I’m sure. It’s just not a priority for me right now. I don’t need one for my job and I can’t become an astronaut because of my accident when I was fourteen.”

Dick was nodding, but Tim looked confused and asked, “Fourteen? I thought you had your accident when you were older?”

“Why would you think that?” Had he or Jazz made any reference to when his accident was? “No, it happened when I was fourteen. A few weeks before I started my freshman year of high school.

Before Tim could ask anything else, Steph called out from the other side of the room. “Did you say you wanted to be an astronaut? Totally awesome. What made you pick that?”

“I honestly don’t know why everyone doesn’t want to be astronauts! Space is so cool. We can learn so much about the universe by studying it in closer detail. And with how many aliens are now living at least part time on Earth, it only makes sense to explore and see what else might be out there.”

Bruce nodded at him. “I am sorry you aren’t able to become one.”

Danny just waved a hand in the air. “I came to terms with it a long time ago. And my current job is fine. Might not be what I would’ve chosen, but I’ve made it work for me.” Deciding he should change the subject before someone had the brilliant idea to ask more about his accident or job, he asked, “So what is for dinner, anyway? You’ve all talked about how amazing the food is, but what are we having?”

Someone tried to speak up, but Jason held up a hand. “I’m the one who helped Alfie cook. Demon-brat is vegetarian so we have a vegetarian curry. If you like meat, there’s a prime rib roast. Then a half dozen different sides—vegetables, rice, potatoes. Huge salad with all the fixings and a dozen different dressings to choose from. And dessert after.”

“Damn, that sounds amazing. I haven’t had a good home cooked meal in ages, so I’ve been looking forward to this.”

“Has your Grandpa been keeping you that busy?” asked Jazz.

“That, but also getting things in order to take this evening off. There’s just been a lot. I’m spending the night at yours, by the way.”

“I’d be offended if you didn’t.”

Danny knew he could rely on Jazz.

“Ooh, do you have any good stories about Jazz as a kid?” asked Jason.

Laughing, Danny said, “So many! But I don’t think we’ll be able to get to those tonight. I’ve a feeling you’ll be interested in other things by that point.” At his words, Robin grinned and pointed at himself. Danny gave him a slight nod to confirm that yes, they’d be talking about him.

Before Jason could ask for clarification, Alfred came in to announce dinner was ready.

Robin cheered and flew over to sit on Alfred’s shoulders, hand extended, to lead the way to the dinning room. Danny couldn’t hold back the chuckle and Jazz shot him a look which he ignored.

“There better be a place setting for you, Alfie!” called Jason as they followed.

“You made your opinion quite clear, Master Jason. And as I wish to meet your young lady and her brother as well, I have set myself a plate at the main table.”

Tim leaned over to whisper to Danny. “Alfred considers his role as butler very important. He rarely eats with the rest of us unless we join him in the kitchen.”

Danny nodded to show he understood, but had no idea how to actually reply to that. It seemed needlessly complicated.

Once they made it to the dining room, Danny grinned as Robin did a flip off of Alfred’s shoulders and landed sitting down on one of the place settings facing the associated chair. He bit his cheek to keep from laughing as Jason sat down at that same place. Jazz took a seat next to him and Danny sat to her other side. Dick ended up sitting next to him.

The scents of all the food wafting off the table made his mouth water and he closed his eyes just to breathe it in. “This smells amazing. Thanks Alfred. And Jason.”

Even Robin had moved to look over every dish, reaching out a hand to try and take something and sighing when he just phased through it.

Even Jazz looked a bit overwhelmed at the quantity of food. “This is so much effort. You didn’t have to do all this just for Danny and me.”

Bruce smiled at her. “It is so rare for all of us to be together for dinner so we make a spectacle of it any time it happens. And this is the first time Jason has ever brought anyone with him which makes it an even bigger event.”

Danny nudged her. “So, Jazz, what’s it like living with someone who can cook?”

Jason laughed. “Jazz isn’t allowed in the kitchen. You know, I caught her grabbing my chef’s knife before going into the fridge the other day!”

Danny furrowed his brow. “Of course she did. It’s a fridge.”

“Wait, is that a family trait? Why do you grab a knife to open the fridge? There’s gotta be a good story behind that.”

Before Danny could make the obvious statement regarding attacking food, Jazz elbowed him. “We’ll tell you later. It has to do with our parents and that’s a large topic and not one we should get into now.”

Before Danny could ask any questions about what the big deal was, Dick nudged him. “Which do you want—curry or beef?”

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Omake

Ignoring all of it, Danny shook his head and answered Dick. “Nah. Hard to get into college when you fail high school and are legally dead.”

Multiple people, including Jason, exclaimed at that statement and he looked to Jazz.

“Did Jazz not tell you about that? Our parents swear they saw my ghost and had me declared legally dead. I was missing at the time so the coroner agreed. Sighting the ghost of a missing person is all you need to confirm death in Amity.”

Under her breath, Jazz added, “You were only missing because they had you.”

Danny elbowed her and quietly chirped a Safe now.

Bruce was no longer smiling and was looking at Danny with narrowed eyes. “Your parents had you declared dead.”

“Yeah. It’s fine, though. I’ve an amazing doctor if I get into trouble. My grandfather is watching out for me. I’m financially stable. My partners are able to rent an apartment large enough for all three of us. I have other places to stay when I’m traveling. Honestly, it doesn’t impact my life all that much. Just means I’m not gonna go to college. And only reason I wanted to go to college was to be an astronaut, but my health makes that impossible.”

“Hn…” Bruce hummed.

And Danny had no idea what that meant, but Robin was now laughing, and Dick was exchanging grins with Tim, and Steph and Cass were whispering together. Damian was glaring at him even harder, blade hilt gripped in his hand. These people were strange.

Danny looked over at Jazz who shrugged. Jason was glaring at Bruce and said, “Don’t you dare.”

“Look, it’s really not a big deal. I know it’s kinda a messed up situation, but ghosts are generally treated really well in Amity. As well as any living human, at least. So long as you avoid the Guys in White and my parents that is. So outside of interactions with them, nothing has changed.”

“If you are ever in need of a place to stay or a meal or anything, you’ll have a room here,” offered Bruce.

Robin landed on Danny’s shoulders and was sending out happy-celebrate feelings. Steph handed Cass a few bills. Tim and Dick mimed giving each other fist bumps. Jason put his head in his hands and groaned. Duke was grinning at them all.

Damian half stood and said, “Father—!”

But Dick was at his side and pulling him back down to the couch with an arm around his shoulders, hand over his mouth, and whispering into his ear before he could do more than say the one word.

“Seriously, it’s not a big deal.” Trying to think of anyway to change the subject, he asked, “So what’s for dinner, anyway?”

And for the Tag List! (Which absolutely exploded this week. Holy shit.)

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@addie-lover-of-stories, @justwannabecat, @gin2212, @amercurio, @regonold, @overtherose, @readerzj, @sjrose1216, @echoednonny, @deeterzz, @blu-lilac, @number-one-jew, @rowanaway-fromthisbs, @vythika96, @tired-yet-awaken, @themirrorghost, @all-mights-asscheeks, @darkhinauniverse, @blep-23, @phandomhyperfixationblog, @larkcoe1, @thegatorsgoose, @job-ross-the-second, @britcision, @lenacraft, @bubblemixer, @androgynouslordofescapism, @purefrickingspite, @leftmiraclechaos, @lizisipancardo, @starlight-sparks, @miraculousandmore, @gildedphoenix, @sometimesthingsfallapart, @letmesayfuxk, @phoenixcatch7, @skulld3mort-1fan, @abaowo, @dhampir-princess, @idkmrpianoman, @sarina-elais, @ballzfrog-blog, @undead-essence, @spookytragedyshark, @emeraldcorpral

The celebration post for 100 followers will be going out in another day or two! I've just had a really busy few weeks and didn't do as much writing as I was hoping for. But I hope to finish writing today and then I'll just take a few hours to edit.

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 7 months

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AITA for asking someone to meet my twin brother when we’ve only dated for 2 months?

Okay, I know my situation is crazy but bear with me. I (23F) love and absolutely adore my older twin brother (by like a couple minutes but who cares), A (23M). I’m not kidding when I say that A is a saint. Like seriously, he is the best person ever, and that’s not just me being biased. He pretty much raised and protected me growing up after our parents died, gotten both me and him to a safe position in life pretty much all by himself, has so many friends and was there for every major event in both theirs and my lives (he’s made time for every birthday, graduation, etc), and is generally such a great and accomplished man. He has like 90% of any good trait you can think of. Overall, I’m so grateful for his existence and for being his sister.

Anyways, a running joke amongst me and my friends is that my brother is every male bisexual’s dream man. Why, you ask? Well, because 4 of my now exes broke up with me because they fell in love with A.

I tend to date around, and go on dating apps (so none of my 4 exes knew about A before we dated). These 4 times were the only times I actually dated for more than a month (kinda hard dating market nowadays). Here’s the timeline of what happened those 4 times:

I and a guy meet up on a dating app, chat, make date plans.

2. Go on a couple of dates, get closer over 2-3 months

3. Go formally meet my brother (cause he’s literally the most important person in my life, so we HAVE to get his approval if we’re going to take this further)

4. Ex falls in love with my brother’s charm and end the relationship weeks later because “I keep thinking about your brother”

For the record, A has no idea that 4 of my exes fell in love with him, he just knew that “we broke up for some reason”. And I’m never letting him know the truth, because I really do not want to hurt him nor make him feel guilty for something that’s not at all his fault. He’s an amazing man, again, so I’m not as upset about this as I probably should be. Ultimately, the breakups hurt at first, but honestly after the 3rd time, it was kinda funny because of how absurd it was ngl. DO NOT accuse my brother of stealing my boyfriends by the way! He’s openly on the aro spectrum so like he has no motive to do such a thing.

Anyways I got to the 2nd month mark with my now boyfriend, T (22M), who’s more questioning in terms of sexuality btw. I got around to asking him to meet my brother in person, because if you’ve seen the same thing happen 4 times, might as well cut to the chase. He said it was a little early to talk about meeting the family. I explained to T my situation, and my reasoning for doing it early. T was really weirded out by this and said that there was no way he would fall for A. I told him that I wasn’t trying to accuse him of anything, but he was pretty pissed off and left to cool off. Now it’s really awkward between us.

So I wonder, AITA for asking my boyfriend to meet my brother early, with all the above information?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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robininthelabyrinth · 1 year

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Darlings - ao3

Summary:

“Clarity would not work to fix Chifeng-zun,” Lan Wangji opined.

Nie Huaisang resisted the urge to kick him – Lan Wangji wouldn’t stick his foot in somewhere it wasn’t wanted if he didn’t actually have relevant information – but even Lan Qiren frowned at him.

“You seem remarkably certain about that, Wangji,” he said. “But why not? While it’s not appropriate for every circumstance, it’s an extremely powerful song. I would think that it would be at least worth an attempt.

”Lan Wangji looked distinctly shame-faced, though perhaps only someone who knew him very well would recognize that particular flavor of it.

“I see,” Lan Qiren said. “And what exactly has your brother done that he doesn’t want me to know about?”

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“I’m bored,” Nie Huaisang complained, and his brother’s eye twitched. “And don’t say ‘go train’, I’m not in the mood.”

“You’re never in the mood,” his brother said, his voice harsher than it usually was. It was often too harsh these days; the version of his brother that Nie Huaisang liked best, teasing and thoughtful and amused despite himself, seemed to have gotten rarer and rarer in appearance. “That’s the problem.”

“Not the point,” Nie Huaisang said. “The point is more fundamental than that. The Unclean Realm is boring! All these years, we’ve kept to ourselves because of the war – limited visits to friends, only going to places that are safe, that sort of thing. But the war’s over, right? So I should be able to go visit whoever I want.”

His brother grunted. Still unamused, when normally Nie Huaisang’s nonsense arguments amused him more than anything else.

Annoyed, Nie Huaisang changed his original plan, which had been to wheedle out permission for a visit to the Lotus Pier to see poor Jiang Cheng who was all alone now that his sister had married off, and instead said, “I want to go visit Wei-xiong!”

“Absolutely not,” his brother said, unsurprisingly. “He’s an outlaw for a reason, Huaisang. He murdered those Jin sect cultivators without warning, didn’t he? Who’s to say he wouldn’t murder you, too?”

“All sorts of reasons,” Nie Huaisang argued back. “Listen, what if –”

“I said no,” his brother thundered, leaping to his feet and slamming his hands against the desk. “You will listen to me, Huaisang, and if you don’t –”

“Why are you always yelling?” Nie Huaisang shouted back, losing his own temper. He was a Nie as well, after all. “Why do you always take everything so seriously? I was just suggesting –”

“It was a stupid suggestion –”

“Even if it’s stupid, you don’t have to hit things –”

“You wouldn’t be so afraid of me hitting things if you’d actually train the way you’re supposed to –”

“I shouldn’t have to worry about it at all!” Nie Huaisang screamed. “You’re my da-ge! You’re not supposed to act like – like – like Father!”

His brother, who was about to yell back, stopped, stricken.

Equally stricken by what he’d just said, Nie Huaisang stared at him.

“It’s not like Father,” he said, because it couldn’t be. It wasn’t allowed to be. Nie sect leaders died young, yes, everyone knew that, even (especially) him no matter how much he pretended that he didn’t, but – but their father had been older than his brother was now, and he’d been fine right up until the time he’d been murdered. If it hadn’t been for Wen Ruohan, they would’ve had him for another decade or two, easy, and he was nearly as good a cultivator as Nie Mingjue was…though he hadn’t had to fight a war on that sort of scale, either. Nie Mingjue’s cultivation had gotten scarily good the past few years. “It’s – it’s not, right?”

His brother said nothing for a long moment.

Then, at last, he sighed and sat down heavily on his chair with a thump.

“We can go visit the Lan sect,” he said, which wasn’t what Nie Huaisang had wanted at all, but for some reason the thought of arguing any further tasted like ashes in Nie Huaisang’s mouth.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s go visit the Lan sect.”

The one good thing about visiting the Lan sect, Nie Huaisang thought bitterly, and in fact the only good thing was Lan Xichen.

Lan Xichen was nice and friendly and gentle, indulgent the way a big brother ought to be, always thinking first about Nie Huaisang’s comfort and happiness. He would buy him thoughtful gifts, he would take him out on outings to new parts of the mountain where there were beautiful views, he would sit and paint with him and listen to him very seriously even when he was talking nonsense. He would even avert his eyes if Nie Huaisang brought out one of his own books to read during study time, smiling and blushing a little in a very fetching fashion – Lan Xichen wasn’t the most desirable bachelor of the cultivation world for nothing, his face earned all its accolades fair and square in Nie Huaisang’s opinion – and they had long conversations that covered everything and anything.

Fewer these days, since Lan Xichen was busy with rebuilding and with Jin Guangyao, who apparently needed quite a lot of support even as he managed to talk his sect into providing the Lan sect with support of a more financial nature, but Nie Huaisang had been sure that a nice visit to the Lan sect with no politics behind it would give him the opportunity to finally have Lan Xichen all to himself again.

Except, of course, that Lan Xichen wasn’t there.

“Off to the Jin sect again,” Nie Mingjue grumbled acidly under his voice as they walked up to the center of the Lan sect from the gateway where they’d received the bad news from one of the door guards. “Big surprise.”

Nie Huaisang, in an equally bad mood, agreed wholeheartedly. It wasn’t like he’d come here for the food or anything…but now that they were here, there was nothing for it but to grit their teeth and bear it. They hadn’t sent word in advance of their arrival, like a bunch of barbarians, even though they really should have. But the decision to go had been very spontaneous and in all honesty Nie Huaisang had been a bit worried that his brother would change his mind if they didn’t follow through on the decision right away, so here they were, visiting the Lan sect, and it was on their own heads that the main attraction of the Lan sect was not there to greet them.

Instead, they were going to have to deal with…the rest of them.

Nie Huaisang tormented himself briefly by wondering if they’d be greeted by Lan Qiren, that terrifyingly stern and rule-abiding teacher that even Nie Mingjue was a bit afraid of, or if it would be that menace Lan Wangji, who everyone praised as the upstanding and noble Hanguang-jun, perfect in every way, but who when approached alone was definitely still that horrible little hellion Lan Zhan who when they were children used to bite Nie Huaisang any time he didn’t get his way.

The answer, it turned out, was both.

Actually, the answer turned out to be Lan Qiren loudly scolding Lan Wangji, who to untrained eyes looked obedient and submissive and to those in the know looked completely unrepentant.

Lan Qiren knew it no less than anyone else, of course, which was presumably why he was still scolding him quite so fiercely – so fiercely, in fact, that it was pretty obvious he hadn’t noticed any of the lingering Lan disciples who’d clearly come to give him the heads up that there were visitors. He was currently going hard on the subject of responsibility, whether to the sect and to the self, and not being impulsive, and also how going to dangerous places, especially without telling people first, was completely beyond the pale of impulsive, especially extremely dangerous places like –

“Hey, wait, that’s not fair!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed, affronted. “Why does Lan Zhan get to go to visit the Burial Mounds and I don’t?!”

His brother glared at him even as both Lan Qiren and Lan Wangji twisted their heads to stare at their guests in surprise and unhappiness – Lan Qiren presumably because he’d been caught lecturing his perfect Lan Wangji in front of outsiders, and Lan Wangji presumably because Nie Huaisang had slipped up and called him Lan Zhan again, which he’d been banned from doing ever since Lan Wangji had turned ten and insufferable.

“He did not get to go,” Lan Qiren said, retreating into stiffness as he always did when he was embarrassed, but that just made the expression on Lan Wangji’s face change straight back into mulishness.

“There were no serious threats there,” he said flatly.

Lan Qiren promptly puffed up in rage again. “No serious threats – it’s the Burial Mounds! Even putting aside Wei-gongzi’s presence, the resentful energy in the air alone –”

“What do you mean there weren’t any serious threats?” Nie Mingjue demanded, overriding even his old teacher in a bout of rather uncharacteristic rudeness. “All the reports I’ve gotten is that Wei Wuxian has prepared the mountain as if for a siege, surrounding himself with arrays and corpses. Is that not true?”

Lan Wangji shook his head firmly.

That made even Lan Qiren started frowning. “Similar news had come to Xichen and myself,” he said. “The Jin sect said they sent several envoys seeking peace and were repulsed with violence, did they not? Wangji, are you saying you were able to go there with no difficulty?”

“That is correct, shufu. The greatest difficulty I encountered was Wei Ying forgetting to pay for lunch.”

“Good man,” Nie Huaisang said approvingly. “He always knew how to sponge a meal like the best of them. Did he manage to get you to pay for anyone else, too?”

Lan Wangji hesitated, which meant yes.

“One of the Wens?” Nie Huaisang’s brother asked, and his voice had dropped down to a forbidding register.

Lan Wangji straightened his back. “I will not apologize for associating with a child of two,” he said icily. “Regardless of his surname –”

“A child of two?!” Lan Qiren exclaimed, horrified, and even Nie Mingjue’s seeming ever-present anger broke for a moment, leaving him looking aghast. “In the Burial Mounds?!”

“Oh, woe is us,” Nie Huaisang said, delighted by this turn of events, which proved to be far more entertaining than what he thought was in store for him on a visit to the Cloud Recesses. “Clearly we’ll all have to go to see for ourselves, right? Right?”

When they got to the Burial Mounds, a lot of things happened in extremely rapid succession.

First, Nie Huaisang’s brother acted like even more of a beast than usual, getting irritated by the defensive arrays and deciding to just smash them open with his saber and march up the hill instead of listening to Lan Qiren’s perfectly reasonable suggestion of just knocking and seeing what would happen.

Second, the Wen sect’s camp on the Burial Mounds, and Wei Wuxian’s ‘fortress’, turned out to be a lot less fearsome than the rumors had advertised, with even the sign on the big cave that read ‘Demon-Slaughtering Cave’ being written in a jaunty and cheerful manner as if it were advertising a wine shop – and the sign was crooked, too. This was a matter of great displeasure to just about everyone, although Nie Huaisang suspected he was the only one disappointed in not finding anything more interesting rather than being upset about how they’d been misled about the dangers involved. Said dangers seemed to be limited to a bunch of elderly folk puttering about in a radish field, Wen Ning the Ghost General who would have probably been a lot scarier if he hadn’t consented to being buried in said radish field by the previously mentioned child of two and had gotten in so deep that he couldn’t easily wiggle out, and a shocked-looking Wei-Wuxian himself who looked as if he’d just been woken up out of an afternoon nap and who had come to yell at the intruders to go away.

Third, there had been an awful lot of yelling, mostly on the part of Wei Wuxian and, of course, Nie Mingjue, who was being awfully shouty even for him. Matters had very quickly deteriorated at that point no matter how much the Lans present (and Nie Huaisang) tried to calm the situation, with Nie Mingjue pulling out Baxia and Wei Wuxian responding by pulling out the Tiger Seal. It probably would have escalated still further – even Wen Ning had managed to crawl out of the dirt by this point, and he was hanging around ominously with white in his eyes – except that when Nie Mingjue stepped forward and lifted up his saber to actually strike his host, an overreaction of such massive extent that even Nie Huaisang couldn’t quite bring himself to believe it was actually happening, Wen Qing had come out of the cave, taken one look at what was going on, and shouted, “He’s having a qi deviation!”

Fourth, Nie Mingjue was definitely having a qi deviation.

Fifth, Nie Huaisang immediately had a panic attack in response to his brother showing symptoms of qi deviation, because qi deviations were what killed Nie sect leaders and Nie Huaisang remembered what they had done to his father in those horrible last few months of his life following his murder.

Sixth, Nie Mingjue’s concern over Nie Huaisang’s panic attack apparently managed to bring him back to himself enough that he apparently willed down the qi deviation, which, according to Wen Qing, was –

“Completely fucking impossible.”

“…Wen Qing, you just swore,” Wei Wuxian said, sounding dazed. “You never swear.”

“Oh, I swear all right,” she said, though her blush suggested she did not, in fact, make a habit of swearing even in the most extreme of circumstances. Not really a surprise, given that she’d been raised as a proper young lady. “At least I do when I encountered the utterly impossible. Advanced surgery that’s never been tried before? Risky, but within the realm of expectation. Reversing a qi deviation out of sheer brotherly worry? That’s just – just – it’s just weird!”

“Can we stop talking about how weird it is and focus on making my da-ge get better?!” Nie Huaisang demanded, clutching his brother’s sleeve. The second Nie Mingjue had put down Baxia and turned to focus on calming Nie Huaisang down, Wen Qing had gotten him in the back of the neck with four needles and he was now completely unconscious, which was probably for the best, really, but which was causing Nie Huaisang no end of distress.

“Nie Huaisang is correct,” Lan Qiren said crisply, and stepped forward towards Nie Mingjue, waving some sort of fancy array into existence that immediately got Wen Qing’s attention.

“That’s way more advanced than the usual diagnostic array,” she said, sounding affronted and also fascinated. “Wait – is that actually measuring the amount of spiritual energy in a given meridian? I thought everyone said that was impossible to track!”

“It’s a matter of resonance,” Lan Qiren said, with a slight melt to his usual frostiness towards all people surnamed Wen – quite justifiable in Nie Huaisang’s mind, given what had happened to the Cloud Recesses. Even Nie Huaisang, who considered himself an amiable and forgiving sort of person, wasn’t exactly enthusiastic about the people who helped Wen Ruohan kill his father and, later, lots of his friends and also very nearly his brother. “A number of my sect members specialize in the medical arts, and they invented it while serving as battlefield medics. It’s not actually tracking the spiritual energy directly, which is in fact impossible, but rather tracking the effect of the movement of spiritual energy as it reacts.”

“Reacts to what? Oh, wait, is that what that low droning sound is for? I thought it was a side effect of putting in too much spiritual energy, as it is with most arrays. But instead you’ve actually harnessed the excess sound using your musical cultivation –”

“Can! We! Focus! On! Fixing! My! Da-ge?!” Nie Huaisang interjected. Loudly.

That got them to shut up and focus for a while. Lan Qiren had been the general leading the Lan sect’s forces and managing the back end for most of the war, so he had a lot of personal experience in playing battlefield medic, and Wen Qing herself had of course been well known for her medical skill even before everything had gone down, so the two of them put their heads together over Nie Mingjue and started up a very technical conversation that no one else understood.

In the meantime, the rest of them – Nie Huaisang, Lan Wangji, Wei Wuxian, and Wen Ning – just looked at each other.

“Wei-gongzi, are we just going to stand here while they work?” Wen Ning asked Wei Wuxian in an undertone, ignoring (or maybe not understanding) the suddenly hostile tilt of Lan Wangji’s eyebrows.

“Yes we are,” Nie Huaisang said loudly, then glared at Wen Ning. “Anyway, aren’t you her brother? Don’t you know anything about medicine yourself?”

Wen Ning looked taken aback. “Uh,” he said. “Not – not that much? I was only ever her assistant –”

“Then what are you waiting for?!” Nie Huaisang demanded, and jabbed a finger towards where they were working. “Go assist!”

Wen Ning tried to look at Wei Wuxian for permission, but Nie Huaisang hissed at him until he picked up his heels and trotted guiltily over to inquire if there was anything he could do, then promptly got recruited to run errands – which showed he clearly had been needed, and therefore should have been there doing that in the first place.

“Hey, Nie-xiong, have you ever seen those animal traders that come from the far south?” Wei Wuxian asked. “The ones that sometimes have those long ferret-badgers, you know the ones, they always hiss at large creatures and they can fight snakes –”

“…the mongoose?”

“Yeah, the mongoose!” Wei Wuxian nodded, then grinned toothily at him. “Has anyone ever told you, Nie-xiong, that you sometimes resemble a mongoose?”

“This is definitely the first time, Wei-xiong,” Nie Huaisang said. “Definitely the first time.”

“Maybe that should be your nickname! You’re the only one who doesn’t have one, right? I’m the Yiling Patriarch, Lan Zhan here’s Hanguang-jun – you can be the Stubborn Mongoose!”

Lan Wangji’s eye twitched. Why he was getting irritated over Nie Huaisang getting a stupid nickname, Nie Huaisang had no idea, since he was pretty sure Lan Wangji didn’t want to be called ‘Stubborn Mongoose’ himself when he already had a perfectly good title.

Maybe he was just jealous of Nie Huaisang getting Wei Wuxian’s attention. Well, if so, Nie Huaisang was more than willing to throw it right back onto him.

“No thanks, Wei-xiong,” he said, and smiled (somewhat toothily) right back at him. “I’ve had a dislike for animal-related nicknames ever since I was a child – you see, I went over to visit the Lan sect a few times and their precious ‘little Rabbit Bun’ bit me.”

He tilted his head pointedly in Lan Wangji’s direction.

Lan Wangji gave Nie Huaisang a death glare.

Wei Wuxian, on the other hand, looked as if his entire life had been improved by at least six degrees. “Lan Zhan?” he gasped. “Your childhood nickname was Little Rabbit Bun? That’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard! You must have been so cute!”

Lan Wangji glanced at him, his ears going red, and then glanced back at Nie Huaisang, who gave him a smug You owe me expression before saying, very virtuously, “Wei-xiong, don’t be silly. Wouldn’t you agree that our Hanguang-jun is still very cute?”

“No, he’s not cute, he’s handsome!” Wei Wuxian objected. “You can’t be ‘cute’ when you’re as dashing and bold as Lan Zhan is –”

“Being handsome doesn’t mean you can’t be cute at the same time! Haven’t you seen him when he’s smiling?”

Wei Wuxian looked stricken. “He smiles? You’ve seen him smile, Nie-xiong? Lan Zhan! Lan Zhan, that’s not fair! You have to smile for me, I have to see it – you can’t smile at Nie Huaisang and not at me, okay, that’s just wrong, I’m the one who wanted to be your friend –”

Nie Huaisang bared his teeth at Lan Wangji – see I’m still better at managing people than you! – and Lan Wangji gave him a half-hearted glare back, too distracted by the way Wei Wuxian was tugging at his sleeve to really put any real heat into it. Or maybe he really did like Wei Wuxian bugging him all the time, who knew?

(Actually, the last time Nie Huaisang had seen Lan Wangji smile, they’d both been at least a decade younger, but he wasn’t about to let facts get in the way of a good taunt.)

The entire thing probably would have continued in that vein for a while, only then Lan Qiren and Wen Qing suddenly got up and that got Nie Huaisang’s attention entirely; he promptly forgot about what the two idiots he was waiting alongside were doing and rushed over.

“Is he all right?” he asked anxiously. “Can you make him better?”

“It will be difficult,” Lan Qiren said, and Wen Qing nodded.

“His meridians are in a bad state,” she said. “His situation was severely aggravated on account of the sheer amount of resentful energy in the Burial Mounds, and then driven into complete crisis when Wei-gongzi unveiled the Tiger Seal, but he was already doing quite poorly. You must have noticed his temper getting worse, less patience, more irrationality…”

Nie Huaisang didn’t want to hear about that. “We’re surnamed Nie, that’s not too weird,” he said shortly. “Anyway, can you fix it?”

“We’ve stabilized him for now,” Lan Qiren said. “There’s no immediate danger.”

Nie Huaisang exhaled. That was – not ideal, but still something. Better something than nothing.

“There are a number of techniques that can be applied to try to correct the deviation,” Wen Qing said. “Including surgery to straight his meridians out again, which I can do. But that’s a one-time fix, and he’s in a state of deterioration; even if I fixed him up, he’d only continue to spiral again, and all the fixes for that take a lot more time and effort and continuous supervision. If it were just me, I’d say there wasn’t anything we could do short of cutting off his access to his golden core for a while – and that’s incredibly dangerous in its own right – but Teacher Lan here says that the Lan sect has some extremely powerful music spells that might be able to do something.”

Lan Qiren nodded. “There is one in particular,” he said. “The Song of Clarity –”

“Clarity would not work to fix Chifeng-zun,” Lan Wangji opined.

Lan Wangji looked distinctly shame-faced, though perhaps only someone who knew him very well would recognize that particular flavor of it.

“I see,” Lan Qiren said, visibly resisting the urge to sigh and offer Lan Wangji a conciliatory candy the way he had when Lan Wangji had been young enough to still think that all problems could be fixed by biting. Possibly it was just Nie Huaisang that recognized that very particular expression, having seen it the most often out of all available non-Lan sect members – he’d been Lan Wangji’s favorite target, after all. “And what exactly has your brother done that he doesn’t want me to know about?”

“How did he know?” Wei Wuxian whispered to Wen Ning in an undertone barely louder than a breath, though not quite enough to escape being overheard by Nie Huaisang, who standing right next to them. “Did Lan Zhan even change expressions just now? Is there some secret sign language involved?”

Clearly Nie Huaisang needed to give Wei Wuxian a crash course in ‘understanding Lan Wangji body language’, Nie Huaisang decided – beneficently, of course. It definitely wasn’t so that Wei Wuxian could more effectively annoy Lan Wangji to death, no, absolutely not.

(Anyway, Lan Wangji seemed like he enjoyed being annoyed to death by Wei Wuxian, so maybe it really was beneficent after all.)

Facing all of their gazes, Lan Wangji squared his shoulders. “Xiongzhang has been concerned regarding Chifeng-zun’s health,” he said. “Particularly in regard to his family’s tendency towards qi deviations, which xiongzhang fears may be aggravated by Chifeng-zun’s powerful cultivation and the ravages of war. He has been playing him Clarity as a course of treatment.”

“As a course of treatment?” Lan Qiren asked, looking startled, and – oops. Had Lan Xichen not told his uncle about what he was doing? Sneaky sneaky! Yet more proof that Lan Xichen was obviously the finest and most superior of all Lans. “Impossible. A few times at full strength, perhaps…”

Lan Wangji was shaking his head in denial.

“It’s impossible,” Lan Qiren insisted. “As an actual course of treatment, he would need to play for him at least once every fortnight – every week, if possible. Xichen is sect leader now. He simply doesn’t have the time or the freedom to depart from the Cloud Recesses on such a regular basis.”

“Brother said a course of treatment,” Lan Wangj insisted back, stubborn as a mule.

“I would have noticed if your brother were slipping away every half-month, Wangji!”

“Anyway, it’s impossible for another reason,” Wen Qing put in. “If Chifeng-zun were getting regular treatment to help clear his meridians, we would have noticed that when we examined him in depth just now, and he definitely hasn’t been.”

“No, that’s wrong,” Nie Huaisang said, and now they were all looking at him, great. “I mean, he is getting regular treatment, and has been for the last few months. And, uh, sorry, Teacher Lan, it is the Song of Clarity. Only it’s not er-ge playing it for him – as you said, he’s way too busy to come to the Unclean Realm as often as that – but rather san-ge who’s doing the playing. Er-ge taught him how to do it…”

Judging by the color that Lan Qiren’s face just turned, Lan Xichen probably shouldn’t have done that, either. Nie Huaisang mentally apologized to Lan Xichen for the horrible scolding he was going to get when Lan Qiren got ahold of him again, but he figured Lan Xichen would forgive him – it was for Nie Mingjue’s health, after all! The people treating him had to know everything, after all, or else they wouldn’t be able to take proper care of him.

“Well, that’s still bizarre,” Wen Qing said. “Either your sect’s song-spell isn’t nearly as powerful as you think it is, Teacher Lan, which seems unlikely, or else whatever-his-name is playing it completely wrong. Judging from the evidence, Chifeng-zun’s state has deteriorated the past few months, not improved.”

She frowned.

“Actually, now that I think about it…” she said, trailing off, and turned to poke at the diagnostic array still hovering over Nie Mingjue’s body. “Teacher Lan, look here, at the lower levels – think of it as a way of mapping the evidence of what happened over time, the way stone does when it’s being worn away, like by a riverbed. His spiritual veins are strong, and then the deterioration is very slow, then faster but still not fast, and then, here, it suddenly starts going very fast all at once…”

“A few months ago,” Lan Qiren said, studying the array. “Yes, you’re right, that’s when the severe downturn began.”

“Hey, Nie-xiong,” Wei Wuxian said, sounding artificially light-hearted – extremely artificial, actually, and maybe Nie Huaisang wouldn’t have noticed except that he’d said the exact same words earlier when he was actually being light-hearted and the contrast between the two couldn’t be clearer. “When did you say Lianfang-zun started playing the Song of Clarity for your brother?”

“A few months ago…no, no, you’ve got it all wrong!” Nie Huaisang said quickly, realizing what Wei Wuxian was implying. “San-ge has been playing it for him for over half a year! He was getting better!”

Lan Wangji cleared his throat.

They all look at him.

“There is the matter of the Jin sect,” he said. “And their proposal regarding the position of Chief Cultivator.”

“Chief Cultivator?” Wei Wuxian asked, looking amused. “What’s that? How can there be a chief? We’re all different sects, aren’t we…? Well, excluding rogue cultivators like me, I guess.”

“That is how it has always been, yes,” Lan Qiren said. “However, in the interest of preventing another Wen sect and another Sunshot Campaign, the Jin sect has proposed creating a position of Chief Cultivator, which would act as an arbiter for the cultivation world – solving problems, settling disputes, that sort of thing.”

“My brother thinks the idea’s complete trash,” Nie Huaisang volunteered. “He says that we didn’t go to all that trouble to make sure Wen Ruohan couldn’t make himself the lord over all of us using his armies just to let Ji– uh, to let Sect Leader Jin do it using his money.”

“Has he said this publicly?” Wei Qing asked, and Nie Huaisang gave her a strange look for a moment.

Then it occurred to him that she probably didn’t know his brother that well, or even his reputation, so he clarified, “Yes, of course. My brother isn’t the sort of person who says one thing in private and another in public. He’s very straightforward.”

“That’s not what I was getting at,” she said. “It was more…when did he say it in public? I don’t suppose – a few months ago?”

“Well, yes, it was – I mean –” Nie Huaisang hesitated.

“I get what you’re saying,” Wei Wuxian said, and his face was hard, back in the lines that had been cut into it during the Sunshot Campaign. “Nie-xiong, would you say that that whole argument happened right around – or maybe right before – the time your da-ge stopped getting better whenever your san-ge came to play for him, and started getting worse much faster?”

“Lianfang-zun,” Wen Ning murmured. “Jin Guangyao.”

“But – but – they’re sworn brothers!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed. “He wouldn’t!”

“Wouldn’t he?” Lan Qiren asked. He looked older, suddenly, and tired. “Are you sure?”

Nie Huaisang wanted to say yes, he really did, he really really did –

But he couldn’t.

“You know, when I said I was bored and that the Unclean Realm was boring, I really was trying to use it as an excuse to go somewhere else,” Nie Huaisang said. “Ideally the Lotus Pier, which has both good food and good shopping and Jiang Cheng, who is pretty funny sometimes – usually not on purpose – but I was willing to settle for the Cloud Recesses because then I’d get to see er-ge. But either way, I hadn’t intended for the end result to be to liven up the Unclean Realm. Or at least, you know, not quite so much, you know?”

“You’re getting exactly what you deserve, you noxious little brat,” his brother said. He was still lying in bed, although he had a desk on his lap that contained all his work. He looked a lot better now that he’d had the immediate intervention surgery Wen Qing had done to straight his meridians out and after both Lan Qiren and Lan Wangji had played him the Song of Clarity – the real Song of Clarity, not whatever messed up version Jin Guangyao must have been using on him – a half-dozen times over the course of as many days. He was even smiling again. “Don’t pretend like you aren’t enjoying it.”

Nie Huaisang was loving it. His home had never been so rowdy, not for as long as he could remember it, and it was already a pretty rowdy place to begin with – but anything got more rowdy when you threw in Wen Qing, who was there to supervise the aftereffects of the surgery, Wen Ning, who was there to assist her, Wei Wuxian, who was there to watch over the still-somewhat-unstable Wen Ning, the rest of the remaining Wen sect, who couldn’t be left on their own and undefended, and of course also Lan Qiren and Lan Wangji in all their grumpy majesty.

And it was going to stay that way.

Well, Lan Qiren, at least, was planning on returning back to the Cloud Recesses, since they were very firmly in the process of rebuilding and he was concerned that Lan Xichen couldn’t do the rest of the work without him, but Lan Wangji was being assigned to the Unclean Realm on a semi-permanent basis since both Wen Qing and Lan Qiren had agreed that Nie Mingjue needed to continue with a daily regimen of Clarity for at least a month, then shift over to three times a week, then two, then weekly, and eventually twice-monthly and monthly before finally, hopefully, tapering off for good. Lan Qiren planned to come back to visit on a regular basis to supervise the musical aspects, and Wen Qing wanted to remain on hand in the event of another crisis – and to study the medical implications of musical cultivation, which was apparently an area she’d completely neglected in her previous studies on account of the Wen sect not teaching much in the way of music.

And if Wen Qing was staying, then obviously Wei Wuxian was going to have to stay as well, a fact that very obviously delighted Lan Wangji to no end. The two of them were completely unbearable when together in a way that made Nie Huaisang pretend to gag and Lan Qiren start heaving long sighs and grumbling about not wanting to deal with matchmakers – which Nie Huaisang hadn’t gotten at first until he suddenly did, at which point he started pretend-gagging even more, just for the principle of the thing.

Possibly Nie Huaisang was also occasionally going and dropping a lit torch into a fire-starting array any time they were showing signs of getting boring, like how just that morning he’d oh-so-casually reminded Wei Wuxian that Lan Wangji used to like to bite people and how everyone used to say it was the way he showed affection, knowing that it would make the ever-competitive (though not as competitive as Jiang Cheng) Wei Wuxian start bugging Lan Wangji about whether or not he would have bitten him –

Nie Huaisang had hope that all that teasing would eventually make it through Lan Wangji’s otherwise impenetrable Lan sect reserve and he’d finally just drag Wei Wuxian into a bedroom and give him the biting he was asking for, but only time would tell.

“I admit to nothing,” Nie Huaisang said righteously, and hopped into the bed to curl up next to Nie Mingjue like he hadn’t since he was much younger. “You like it too. Don’t you?”

“I don’t like the political headache that comes with it,” Nie Mingjue pretended to grumble. “Not to mention that we’re now suffering an undoubtedly permanent infestation of those surnamed Wen – ugh.”

That complaint was probably genuine, Nie Huaisang reflected, since his brother had had to suffer the original Wen sect a lot more than Nie Huaisang ever had, but saving Nie Mingjue’s life meant they owed Wen Qing a life-debt. To pay it off, his brother, good and righteous person that he was, had officially buried his sect’s blood feud with hers, making them equal again, and now they had no grounds to be pissy with them or kick them out. The rest of the Nie sect loved their sect leader enough to begrudgingly forgive them as well, at least provisionally, but provisionally went an awful long way with the Nie sect. Unlike the Lan sect, they didn’t have a rule against bearing grudges, though they did it very well, thank you. It was just that they didn’t have the temperaments to do it more than once or twice in a lifetime, and the rest of the time they tended to forget about their wrongs pretty quickly and move on towards making friends.

All that, of course, meant that the Wen sect now had two places in the cultivation world that they could live – the rest of the cultivation world wasn’t exactly as incentivized to forgive them, obviously – and since the Burial Mounds were in fact pretty terrible, it was no surprise that they were much happier in the Unclean Realm.

“You can distract yourself by watching the Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian circus, like I do,” Nie Huaisang comforted his brother. “It’s really funny. And soon we’ll be able to host a wedding, won’t that be fun? And it won’t even have to be one for either you or me!”

“…that does sound fun,” Nie Mingjue allowed. “Everyone would enjoy that, and it’d be good for commerce, all the things you’d need for that – the Lan sect is still mostly investing in rebuilding, but I can’t imagine they’d allow their Second Jade to be married in anything less than the best.”

“I’ll paint them a nice couple set of fans as a wedding gift,” Nie Huaisang decided. “And you can make them a pair of supplemental spiritual weapons to match – you haven’t done that in ages, da-ge, and it used to be the thing you loved the most.”

Nie Mingjue looked seriously tempted, or at least he did to someone who knew him as well as Nie Huaisang did. His brother wasn’t actually an ascetic, the way Jin Guangyao had once or twice joked in a not-quite-joking tone he was; he just had different vices and hobbies than most men. No wine, women, or song for Nie Huaisang’s quixotic big brother, no – he liked steel, and forging, and sometimes dancing when he thought he could get away with it without losing face. Also those stupid overly complicated puzzles that Nie Huaisang needed to hunt up more of for him.

“I don’t know,” Nie Mingjue said, still hesitating. “My health –”

“I’ll get you cleared by Wen Qing,” Nie Huaisang assured him. “I’m sure she’ll say it’s good for you to engage in your hobbies more often, since you’ve been so bored without training Baxia so often.”

“I need to start doing that, too.”

“Ah, but you can only do that under supervision of doctors, and only in limited quantities until your qi improves. You need to fill your day with something that isn’t work, da-ge – doctor’s orders!”

Lan Qiren’s orders, to be more accurate. He’d been shoved into the role of sect leader, too, though he’d been older than Nie Mingjue was when it’d happened; he was now rigid to the point of unyielding on insisting that Nie Mingjue not allow himself to be swallowed up by it any more than he already had.

Anyway, his brother had already been very pointedly avoiding anything to do with sect business outside the sect, and in specific in relation to the Jin sect, and Jin Guangyao, which Nie Huaisang fully understood and supported. His brother might be tough on the outside, but he had a soft heart, and Jin Guangyao’s actions had broken it – it was better for Nie Mingjue’s health that he not think about it, at least for now.

Nie Huaisang had instead taken responsibility for external affairs into his own hands for the time being.

He wasn’t necessarily very good at it, he wasn’t good at much, but he was extremely capable of being very annoying and given the Nie sect’s current ascendant position in the cultivation world, that was all he needed to be to keep the Jin sect so busy guessing what he was up to that they’d (hopefully) be too busy to scheme any more.

And if Nie Huaisang had a scheme or two he was planning on trying back on them…well, that was his own business, right? Even if it failed, no one would be too surprised, he was just the stupid and useless second young master of Qinghe, after all.

No one broke his brother’s heart and got away with it. No one!

(Also, being in charge of external affairs meant that Nie Huaisang got to spend quite a bit of time sequestered with Lan Xichen, nominally ‘discussing sect business’, and it was great. They barely did any work at all!)

“All right, all right,” Nie Mingjue said. “You win, as you always do. Don’t you have anything better to do than attach yourself to me like some sort of parasite?”

“Nope! Cleared my entire morning just for this.” Nie Huaisang burrowed in more. “I’m going to steal all your heat away, da-ge, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“Huaisang…”

“And later,” Nie Huaisang interrupted, marching all over his brother’s half-hearted protest, “you’re going to tell all the things you haven’t been telling me about our family’s cultivation style, and the saber tombs, and all of that.” His brother went very still. “You’re going to tell me, and then we’re going to figure out what we’re going to do about it together. All right?”

He waited to hear his brother’s response.

Instead, he felt the light touch of his brother’s palm on his hair.

“All right, Huaisang,” his brother said. “That sounds good. I’ll listen to you.”

“As you should,” Nie Huaisang said. “As you always should!”

“I’m not buying you any more fans, and you still need to train your saber.”

“Awww, but da-ge…!”

#mdzs #nie huaisang #nie mingjue #lan qiren #lan wangji #wen ning #wen qing #wei wuxian #my fic #this is an old one from the vaults #I THINK I never got around to posting it #if it's actually a duplicate let me know #my fics

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crazyunsexycool · 1 year

Text

Heart’s Munition

Chapter 2

Pairing: mob boss!Steve Rogers x maid single mom!Reader

Word count: 3.3k

Warning: sick child but nothing descriptive, implied death of a child, Peter Parker being a sweetheart, argument

Series masterlist

Peter Parker has had to do a lot of shady things to get in his boss’ good graces. He was young and had a lot to prove. Still he wasn’t a fan of what his boss had just asked him to do because he liked you. You were both close in age although he had just turned twenty-one and you were older by four years. There was always this protective instinct that you had when it came to him, it was almost motherly. It was something he has always wanted but never had. He did have his aunt May especially after his parents abandoned him and his uncle died. It was no secret Peter loved her to death but because it was only the two of them she often had to work two jobs just to make ends meet. So he was left up to his own devices most of the time. Without much supervision he had a tendency to take a lot of walks whenever he wasn’t in a lab at school.

On one of those walks he ran into something he should have never seen. A deal gone wrong between Clint and some cops that ended badly for the former. Without much thought Peter sprung into action to help Clint get medical attention but it put a target on his back with the crooked cops. If Steve hadn’t brought him in he’d be dead. But he wanted more than to be a low level runner.

Peter wanted to be part of Steve’s inner circle. He was working his way up rather quickly for the short amount of time that he’d been with the group. It was because he was willing to do what it takes to get results but something about this request wasn’t sitting right with him. Peter knew he couldn’t say no though so he found your address and started to get ready for the job. Hopefully he wouldn’t find anything that would jeopardize your well-being.

It was another good day for Elijah and there was nothing that could make you happier. First you enjoyed sleeping in a bit and then both of you dressed and headed out in order to enjoy the day. The sun was shining and there was a nice breeze. You started at the park although Eli didn’t have that much energy to play with the other kids he did love sitting on the swings.

His feet were straight ahead as he threw his head back to look at you upside down. You were gifted with your favorite smile when you pushed him higher. It didn’t take long for some pervy dad to put his kid on a swing and openly check you out. Elijah noticed first and promptly asked to stop and go elsewhere.

Eli begged to go to a video games store and it was a surprise to no one that you caved. It was there that you sensed it first. Someone’s eyes were on you. As discreetly as you could you looked around trying to figure out if you were making it up or not. It took a few turns through the displays to see who you think is Peter trying to hide in plain sight.

“Eli,” you got your son’s attention. “I need you to stay right here ok. I just saw a friend and I want to say hi.”

“Ma, I thought you didn’t have friends.”

“Really? Why must you hurt me like that?”

He laughs and goes back to playing the demo on some system you couldn’t afford. You sneak around one display and then another until you can clearly see that it is Peter. His eyes are now darting around the store trying to find you. They widen and he goes red in the face when he sees you approach.

“I hope you’re here to buy a game and not because you’re spying on me.” You tell him.

“I uh- I’m n-not, promise.”

“So why were you hiding?”

“Ok ok, maybe the boss asked me to see if you were ok.” He turns his head to look back at Eli and swallows thickly.

“Steve did?”

“Yeah, he said you were in some kind of trouble and he wanted to know what it was.”

Elijah jogs over to you and holds up a game.

“Can we get this, ma?”

“Ma? He’s your kid?” Peter asks incredulously.

“Yeah, who else’s kid would it be?”

“I thought maybe you babysat on the weekends.”

“So ma can we?” He looks at you with pleading eyes and it breaks your heart.

“My love we can’t. That old system you have won’t work with this game. Please go put it back.”

“Fine.” He says with a pout and guilt settles heavily on your chest.

You look back at Peter who is still standing there shocked as if you’d told him he was the father.

“You’re a mom.”

“For eight years now.”

“Is it just the two of you?”

You nod. “But anyways, what is this about Steve having you follow me?”

“He thinks you’re in some sort of trouble and I was supposed to figure out what it was so that I can report back to him.”

“Peter,” you grab his forearm and turn to look at him more directly and with a worried expression. “You can’t tell him I have a kid. I don’t want anyone to know unless absolutely necessary. Promise me you won’t tell him please.”

“Wait, is someone threatening your son? Is that why no one can know?”

“No. It’s just I don’t want anyone to be able to use him against me. I know what you all do. I'm not stupid. What if someone that hates Steve threatened my son in order to get information on him? Am I supposed to protect Steve over my son?”

“No, I get it. I won’t say anything but he’ll expect a report anyway. I can’t just lie to him either.”

“Don’t lie, give him a half truth. You saw me at a park and then I went shopping. Which I did.” You say as you look back to check on Eli. Peter follows your gaze and smiles.

“He’s a lucky kid having a mom like you.”

“Peter-“ your eyes lit up as you heard the compliment.

“I’ll leave you two alone and I won’t tell anyone. But if you need anything I’m here for you ok?”

“Thanks, Coulson and Dom know. If it makes you feel better.”

He nods and gives you a small smile before disappearing among the crowd. Elijah walks back over to you a little disappointed, which makes you feel extremely guilty about not being able to get him what he wants. With an arm over his shoulder the two of you walk out and try to enjoy the rest of the day.

While Sunday had started out as another good day for Elijah, the good luck had to end at some point. Mrs. Fields watched Elijah for an hour or two while you ran some errands and by the early evening he was feeling sick again.

You sat next to him on the couch, pressing a cool towel on his forehead. He groans and whimpers while he sleeps. There isn’t much for you to do except wait for the medicine to work, hopefully. Mrs. Fields walks back in with a few bags in hand and an unsure expression on her face.

“Y/N do you know someone named Peter?”

“Yeah, why?”

“He’s downstairs and he said he tried to call you but you weren’t answering. He wanted to come up to drop something off for Eli.”

You pull your phone out and see a few texts and a missed call from Peter. “Could you let him up?” She smiles and nods, hitting the buzzer by the front door and heading to the kitchen.

At the knock on the door Mrs. Fields opens the door for Peter. He takes a tentative step into your small apartment. His smile falters when he takes in the scene before him.

“Is everything ok, Peter?” You ask when you look up at him.

“I think I should be asking you that.”

“It will be. What’s going on?”

“I just wanted to drop something off… for Elijah, from uncle Peter.” He gives you a boyish smile.

You narrow your eyes but he’s already turning away and heading to the door. He walks back in with two bags and a box. When you get a better view You’re immediately ready to argue that you couldn’t accept anything from him.

“Please let me just give them to him as a gift.”

“A PS5 and a Tv? Peter, have you lost your mind? I can’t accept that at all.”

“Y/N, I’ve already set it up for him all I have to do is plug everything in and the tv isn’t even that big. I’m not going to take no for an answer so where should I put it?”

“The door at the end of the hall.” Mrs. Fields says from behind Peter.

“Thank you ma’am.”

Without giving you room to protest Peter heads in the direction of Elijah’s room with you following. He sets the PS5 on the bed and the tv box on the floor and looks around for where to best place it. His eyes land on the large number of prescription bottles on the bedside table and then he looks back at you.

“The doctors can’t figure out what’s wrong. He has his good days and his bad ones. I always worry he’ll never get better.” You explain, unable to express how afraid you are that one day you’ll wake up but he won’t.

“Today is a bad day.”

You nod and he turns to get the tv out. In a few minutes he’s already set up the tv on the dresser and the PS5 is connected and running.

“I’ve got him all of the accessories he’ll need, including an extra controller. I thought if maybe it was ok with you I could come over once in a while and hang out with him.”

You repress the tears that sting your eyes and nod. “I think he’d like that.”

“Cool. I also connected all the streaming apps so that he can watch whatever he wants if he doesn’t feel like playing and I added a gift card so he can get add-ons for the games.”

“Peter, I don’t know what to say. This is so kind of you. Thank you so much I know once he feels better he’s going to love it.”

“It’s no problem. I meant what I said yesterday, if you need anything at all you just let me know. I know what it’s like to grow up with only one parent.”

You sniffled and hugged Peter.

“I’m going to get out of your hair but let me know the minute he feels better and we’ll play a few games together.”

“I will, thank you again.” You say as you walk him out to the door.

“He’s cute. Where do you know him from?”

“Work, he’s just a friend.”

“You don’t have friends ma.” Eli speaks up for the first time in the last few hours.

“You’re a little shit you know that.” He smiles weakly at you. “Do you want to see what Peter brought you?”

He nods and you pick him up and head to his room. He gets as excited as he can considering his weakened state. Mrs. Fields excuses herself and you make yourself comfortable in bed with Eli. It takes you a second to get used to the controller but you manage to put on a movie, allowing Eli to cuddle into your side.

Monday morning was not great for you. You’d barely slept as you watched over your son and now you were late to work. Add to the situation the fact that you had to talk to Steve about the bullshit he pulled by having Peter follow you.

“Mia Cara, I was starting to worry.” Dom said once he saw you.

“It wasn’t a good night and I’m running on fumes.”

“Is he any better today?” Dom whispers the question.

“A little, although if he doesn’t get better we’ll have to go to the hospital.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that Cara.” He moves around the kitchen quickly and sets a plate of food and coffee in front of you. “Take a few minutes and eat up.”

“Thanks, I’m gonna need it.”

You eat quickly and decide to deal with Steve first. The door to his study opens abruptly and Peter is standing there, he gives you a small nod and a tight lipped smile. He already knows you were going to talk to Steve about it so he just moves out of the way to let you in and closes the door behind him.

“Good morning Y/N, how are you?” Bucky says in way too good of a mood.

Steve looks up at you curiously. The look on your face lets him, Bucky and Sam know that you aren’t in the mood for small talk.

“Is everything ok?” Steve asks.

“No, everything is not ok. Can you tell me why you had Peter following me over the weekend?”

Steve drops the pen he’d been using and sits back in his chair. You cross your arms over your chest and glare at him as you wait for an answer.

“I like to make sure all of my employees are well taken care of. I was under the impression that you were facing a problem and I want to know what it is so that I can help.”

“And you couldn’t have just asked me?”

“Would you have told me?”

“No because it’s none of your fucking business.” You spat back at him.

“We’ll give you two some privacy.”

Sam nodded to the door, he and Bucky left you alone with Steve. He immediately got up and sat at the edge of his desk.

“Whatever it is, you know I can help, so what's going on?”

“You know how you can help, by minding your own business and staying out of mine.”

“Why are you being so defensive? I just want to make sure that you have what you need. Why can’t you just accept my help?” Steve’s voice was getting louder with every word and he was standing up straighter with his shoulders squared. You were infuriating and he wasn’t sure why he put up with you.

“So that you can use it as a way to force me to sleep with you? If I wanted your help I would have asked for it, did you ever think of that?”

Steve pinned you to your spot with a hardened stare. That was the man so many feared and it sent a shiver down your spine.

“You know nothing about me. I don’t need to force anyone to sleep with me. But you don’t have to worry about that, you’ll have to beg me before I touch you. In regards to your problem, I’ll back off but if you need the money I’m sure Coulson can find you extra work.”

You scoff. “That’s your problem, you think everything can be solved with money or your influence.”

“Boss, we have a name-“

The door swung open and the tension between you and Steve popped like a bubble. You took a step back realizing for the first time how close you had been.

“I’m sorry I didn’t know you were busy. I can come back.”

“Don’t worry Yelena. Ms. Y/L/N was just leaving.” He turns back to sit behind his desk and doesn’t look at you again.

You give Yelena a smile that doesn't reach your eyes and close the door on your way out. In the kitchen Bucky, Sam and Dom are all talking in hushed tones and the conversation stops completely when Sam sees you walk in.

“Is everything ok Mia Cara?” Dom asks and you just shake your head.

“I would quit if I didn’t need the money. I mean who the fuck does he think he is? He’s just a big stupid manwhore that thinks he owns everyone.”

They watch you pace back and forth in the kitchen as you ramble. Bucky hides a smile behind his hand while Sam and Dom exchange amused glances.

“What happened? Is there anything we can do to help?”

“He had Peter follow me over the weekend. What kind of invasion of privacy is that?” You stop and turn to look at the men. “Then he has the nerve to say that he only wants to help me. Well I didn’t ask for his help or anyone else’s help for that matter.”

Dom nods in understanding, it has nothing to do with you and everything with protecting Elijah. Sam and Bucky however look confused.

“Are you in trouble, doll?”

“What is it with you all thinking I’m in trouble?”

“I know you don’t want to hear this but Steve wouldn’t have done that unless he had a reason to do it. He does genuinely care about people.” Sam adds.

A disbelieving laugh escapes you.

“Yeah he sells drugs and guns and who knows what else because he cares about people.”

Bucky is grinning at you now and you relax a bit and smile back. “This is why I like you.” He says.

You hum in agreement as you pull your phone out of your back pocket. The smile you just had disappears completely at the text that Eli has gotten worse.

“I have to go, please tell Coulson.” You say over your shoulder but it was mostly directed at Dom.

“Is everything ok with her?” Sam asks the older man.

“That’s up to her to share.”

“So Steve was right to worry.”

“Buck, let it go. Don’t push her please.”

“Alright.” Bucky held his hands up defensively. “We have to get back to work anyway.” He announced and left to meet up with Steve.

***

Steve was still in a mood after speaking with Yelena about the current issues he was having with his men being attacked. It had nothing to do with that issue and everything to do with you.

“Get Y/N in here I need to talk to her.” He said to no one specifically.

“She’s gone Steve.”

The statement made Steve’s stomach drop. It must have been obvious in his face because Sam had to clear up what Bucky meant.

“She had some sort of emergency at home I think. She just left for the day.”

“Fine.” He nods once. “That’s everything for now. Let me know what Clint and Nat have finished up with their plan.” Sam and Bucky gave small oks and left him alone with his thoughts.

Steve was still trying to figure out what you were so afraid of. Now with the news that you had to leave due to an emergency he was even more curious.

His cell rings and he grabs it from where it was laying on the desk. Looking at the number he sighs.

“What do you want, Hansen?” His voice teetered between ice cold and angry.

“Well shit, that’s how you’re going to greet an old colleague?”

“I don’t have time for your bullshit. What do you want?”

“I possibly have a lead on the elusive leader of the black order, thought you might be interested.”

“How much is the information going to cost?” Although Steve didn’t want to work with Hansen, he needed the information.

“Why don’t I stop by in a few days? We can catch up.”

“Fine.” Steve said and hung up before he heard a reply.

Steve would have to put his thoughts of you on the back burner. He didn’t like Lloyd Hansen but if he had information on the black order he needed to know.

The sooner he got rid of the threat the sooner he could get back to normal. He would push his thoughts of you aside and focus on his business deals. Putting someone else first almost cost him everything once, he won’t allow you to be his downfall this time around.

Ch. 3

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dragonworshippersblog · 8 months

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Let's discuss some topic that I frequently read on tumblr about house of the dragon (if u do not agree then u can express ur opinion by comment, but always be educate. And if you want another topic to be discussed let me know and i will make a post)

“Aegon is the rightful king of the seven kingdoms by law”

GRRM in an interview said this “ Well, the short answer is that the laws of inheritance in the Seven Kingdoms are modeled on those in real medieval history… which is to say, they were vague, uncodified, subject to varying interpretations, and often contradictory” so we can say that male primogeniture is based on traditions, not law. King Jaehaerys with the great council of 101 at harrenal let the lords decide who should succeeded him, so he gave them a choice. But this is not the same about king viserys, he named rhaenyra as his heir and alway defended her, so viserys did not give them a choice. By usurping rhaenyra’s throne the green imply that the king’s word means nothing, and this is the thing that causes war and crisis. As we see in the book fire and blood most of the houses support rhaenyra’s cause, so otto’s word “the realm will not accept her” are revealed to be false. Again the war come from the fact that otto and alicent decide to crown aegon, so houses actually have a choice to decide who they wanted to support, if aegon hadn’t been present as an option the few houses that didn't agree with viserys choice will bent the knee alike.

“Alicent always defended rhaenyra before she lied to her about her purity”

In episode three the show let us see a conversation between otto and alicent where he said “aegon has been robbed of his own inheritance because he is the king’s first born son” and after he said that is alicent’s aim to guide the king in his decision, the second after she went to viserys’ chamber claim that there is something she want to discuss with him (viserys stopped her and they start talking about the stepstones). How do you know that she did not raise this matter anymore? In episode six when older alicent was question rhaenyra’s children she say she already talk about this before but the show didn't let us saw it, so its completely possible that she proposed aegon as heir even before rhaenyra’s lie when they were still friend

“Alicent always defend rhaenyra and yet rhaenyra send otto away when she had the possibility leaving alicent alone”

Let’s go deep into it. Queen Aemma, rhaenyra’s mother, died in order to gave the king a son, she was literally open without any kind of anesthesia so she felt every cut the maester were doing to her (and in the original script rhaenyra saw her body so she is aware that the death of her mother wasn’t a miscarriages like the other). After all of it viserys named rhaenyra his heir and married alicent, and at the time they had two children together, aegon and haelena. In this scenario otto was the second most powerful man in the realm, he ruled when viserys can’t, and he had great influence as he had great ambitions. So, rhaenyra had the chance to demonstrate that her mother’s death was not vain, and all of her miscarriages and pain had an aim now that her daughter is heir, but then there is otto and he will always be an obstacles in her rise to the throne; you, in her position, had the chance to get him go away, you choose to let him stay at court so your best friend is not alone or you choose to let him go so your rise will be more easy? Because if I were in rhaenyra’s position I would have not hesitate a second

“Alicent did not knew the council were plotting to crown aegon”

You all act like she had not the huge part in rhaenyra’s usurpation. First of all she tormented rhaenyra for a lot of years in king's landing, she moved to dragonstone (which is however the seat of the heir to the throne, rhae is the princess of dragonstone) because she couldn't take it anymore to be targeted by alicent and it was her aim in my opinion because rhaenyra not set the council would let Alicent have all the power to influence everyone about how her son is more worthy. Then she said to aegon “everyone in the realm know that one day you will be our king” so also if aegon was not meant to have the crown alicent let him believe that, and he was a boy at the time so he was easily manipulated. Then there is the petition about driftmark, you are really claim that alicent was willing to do so because she care so much to vaemond to have driftmark because its his blood rights and not because when the war she and otto create will follow she will have the velaryon flee support her? And when she said that viserys whisper to her about how aegon should succeed him? You can be team green or team black, but everyone can agree about how pathetic she was claiming that after viserys defend rhae for 20 years, and he suddenly change his mind where only her was here to listen him

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multifan2022 · 10 months

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Golden Lies

Heres another new one that has been in my wips for who knows how long.. Let me know!!

“I volunteer!”

The first thought through your head after hearing that is ‘who said that?’ Who would volunteer for the 69th Hunger Games.. Well the games at all, but why now?

It isn't until people start turning around and looking at you, the 17 year old who almost escaped being reaped, that you realize whose voice you heard. You heard your own, because as soon as you saw little Cissa being pulled onto stage your heart broke.

Cissa was your neighbor, she had just turned 12 the day before the reaping. You would be turning 18 in a week and a half. The poor girl cried for twenty minutes when she got a papercut opening seeds, she wouldn't last in the games.

Not that you had a much better chance when it came down to it. The biggest difference was the only family you had was two grandparents, both very old and one sick. Cissa was the middle child of 5, her older twin brothers and her younger twin sisters. It would devastate them all if something happened to her, your grandparents wouldn't live long to mourn you.

The peacekeepers hands on you barely caught your attention as they forced you to switch places. The only good part you could see out of this, was that Cissa wouldn't be rereaped. You had saved at least one of their kids, a small payment for all the times they watched your grandparents during the harvest for the last 8 years.

Cress Amberpath, the light pink skinned Escort of your district, is practically vibrating with happiness when you reach the stage. There had never been a volunteer from your district while he worked here. He pulled you into a weird hug congratulating you before pulling you towards the mic. “Is there anything you would like to say to little Cissa, Dearie?”

You nodded, pulled yourself together and looked at her family. Her mother was already in tears, you being like a niece to her, while she clung to her daughter. The older twin boys who were your age nodded, letting you know they would take care of her. While their father nodded, letting you know he would take care of your grandparents. It all happened within seconds, and suddenly you were ok.

Everything was going to be ok. So you laughed and nodded again “Hey Cissy, take care of Finnick for me ya?” Cissa turned back to you, tears streaming down her face as she nodded and cracked a smile at the inside joke. When her family started laughing along with you, Cress spoke again “Whos Finnick my dear! Do you have a beau we should all know about!”

You knew this next part would maybe piss some people off, but you were off to die so who cares. You shook your head “It's my dog.. Because there was a magazine we found the same day I found this puppy, and on the cover it said ‘Is golden boy Finnick Odair, a dog?’ Cissy thought it was a sign that we should name him Finnick.”

To your utter surprise, Cress laughed.. Hard, like bent over laughing a genuine laugh before speaking “I wish we could see that man's face when he hears this, it would be priceless! But onto the boys!” When he left you in your spot and walked towards the other bowl, you scanned the crowd for the one friend you had.

Hardin Bellbrand.

A boy you went to school with, who worked the same field as you. He was your only confidant, the only person you trusted fully in this world. He was there when your parents died, you were there when he was diagnosed with an untold disease a few years ago. Hardin had been pulled from the fields, and was treated. Perk of being the Mayor's son, you guess. Now he could be out and about as long as he took his pill everyday.

If he missed his pills within a few days he would start to have severe pain. Next would come the sweats and puking alongside hallucinations. He wasn't fit to be in the games ethier, and thankfully he is a year older than you so this is his last year.

You finally made eye contact with him, and could see the heartbreak and sadness in them. Your ears start to buzz when he nods and looks away. You're frantically shaking your head as you hear Cress call some name you don't know. Your feet are moving before you realize it, mouth open screaming “NO” as you realize what Hardin is thinking.

Over your painfully screams to your sick friend, his voice rings clear “I volunteer as tribute!” The Mayor and his wife start screaming now as well, neither wanting to lose their only child. Both knowing even if he was fit and healthy, he's not a killer. While they are getting drug off stage by peacekeepers, Hardin is making his way to the stage.

He completely bypasses Cress who is practically dying in excitement and walks straight to you. While you're shaking your head, he smiles sadly and wraps you in a hug whispering over and over that it's ok. Even though it's anything but. Cress pulls him off you and towards the microphone. “Well!! What a turn of events!! Not ONE but TWO volunteers!! Why did you volunteer young man??”

Hardin turns his head and looks at you, that same sad smile present. “Couldn't let my best friend go off to fight without me.. She was gonna leave me in the fields to do all her work, can you believe that Cress?” He jokes and you know that he's going to make it through the process just fine. The struggle will be when the two of you are trying to survive in the arena.

But you're dedicated to keeping him alive.. Even if it means killing yourself in the end.

Hardin Bellbrand will be coming home.

~~~~~~~

The train ride was excruciating, listening to Cress gush about how your ratings were already up due to there being volunteers in an outlying district. But since there were two of you, and you were best friends, he swore that it would be an easy win. There hadn't been a victor from District 9 in 25 years and he was dead.

You and Hardin would be alone going into training, Cress would be your only guide during the next few weeks. You're both thankful for the fact the train rolls at 250 miles an hour, making your trip only a handful of hours. But your head was still pounding when you arrived.

Cameras flashed and people screamed questions at you both as you were practically shoved from the train and into a car. Just to have it all happen again between the car and the tribute center. The only difference was this time you saw people holding out flowers. Cress stopped and gasped, turning back to you both, “We have never had gifts given to us before the games! This is such an honor, graciously accept them and show your love for the capitol!”

You turned and nudge your head to one side, Hardin nodded and without speaking each of you took a side of the walkway. Men, women and children all screaming your name and touching your face or hair. Some had flowers that you would take and offer a smile and kind words back. You shake every hand you can reach, and even stop taking a few pictures.

Somehow you even look happy, excited even to be here, which only drives the crowd crazier. When you and Hardin meet back up by the doors, you each have a handful of flowers and messy hair. Your hands find each other, fingers intertwining as you bow and smile to the crowd who just screams louder.

Another car pulls up so the peacekeepers finish escorting you inside the huge building. Hardin looks around in amazement at the architecture and the size but all you can see is the bodies in the corner. A group of people who you assume are here to size up the competition and try to intimidate them.

Cashmere, Gloss, Brutus, Enobaria, Finnick and Augustus along with their tributes are all sitting there glaring at you. Well all of them besides Finnick, who is the same age as Augustus who is the same age as you and Hardin. Just a bunch of 17 and 18 year olds that deserve to be anyone but here. Finnick was smiling at you, looking you up and down before leaning over and making a comment to Augustus who then smirks.

The look on their faces makes your skin crawl, but you dont show it. Your upper lip pulling into a sneer as you fake gag in their direction causing Hardin to laugh as you keep walking towards the elevator. Thankfully disappearing from the Careers sight.

~~~~

Finnick was tired..

Tired of being in the Capitol. Tired of kissing asses, tired of sleeping around, and tired of pretending like he hated every other tribute who walked through the door. But mostly he was just tired, he really needed a nap and a good shower. He was practically sleeping with his eyes open not listening to the others when he heard the crowd outside start screaming.

He looked around quickly, thinking maybe one of the other careers had made their way outside. But no, the whole group was still there. As they all turned towards the door and waited, Finnick was stuck between relief and jealousy. Relief that maybe the people of the Capitol had found a new favorite and would leave him alone, and jealousy that the crowd was honestly being louder for whoever was outside than they were for him.

The jealousy washed away though when the doors opened and a beautiful girl walked in with her escort and who Finnick assumed was her district partner. Arms full of flowers, hair ruffled from fingers running through it and cheeks pink from embarrassment.

He knew right away by the lack of a Victor and the pink man escorting them that they were the tributes from District 9. While the guy looked around clearly amazed with the building, which to be honest happened to most of the tributes, the girl looked unimpressed. She rolled her eyes at her district mate, shouldered him a little before turning and noticing the group.

Which also seemed to be unimpressive to her.

While she looked them over, Finnick looked her over. She was tall for a girl, probably 5’7 or 5’8. Her hair was clean and down to the middle of her back, she was thin but not thin like most who came from her district. Definitely not thin like those from 12. More like the type of thin people get when they work the fields, which is probably what she did coming from 9.

They both looked in shape while the girl looked a little healthier and a little stronger, Finnick knew that appearances were deceiving. While he was sizing her up she turned and locked eyes with him. By the look on her face, she yet again was not impressed. Finnick leaned over to Augustus and whispered “I think we should probably watch out for that one. But smile, make her think we are making fun of her.”

Augustus, who was new to all of this, smiled condescendingly at her before she sneered at them. Laughed with her district mate and left, the two teens turning back to the other careers. “We need to watch them, that's the first time 9 hasnt been scared shitless when they walked in. Plus for whatever reason the crowd loved them, and that's always a problem.” Cashmere said, looking down at her nails before looking over at her brother who nodded.

That was all that passed between the group before they all went up to watch the reapings.

~~~~~~~~~

After hair was ripped out that you didn't even know existed, you were bathed and rubbed with an oil that made your skin seem tanned and shimmery. Makeup was smeared across your face as someone else was pulling at your hair. You sat quietly knowing that fussing was just going to make the process longer. Soon enough, but not soon enough you were left in just a robe in an empty room with nothing but a cot, a chair and a wardrobe.

When the door opened, a dark skinned woman with her hair back in box braids stepped in. She had just a little gold makeup on, and a small gold rose tattooed behind her ear. She smiled genuinely at you before pulling you into a hug, when she pulled back she squeezed your shoulders. “I'm sorry you have to be here.” She said so quietly you almost missed it.

All you did was nod and look down, but she put a hand under your chin and lifted your face. You could tell as she turned it and then looked at your hair that she was examining the team's work. Your eye make up was dramatic, a medium dark green on the lid, with orange brushed into brown that reminded you of leaves changing color. Your bottom lid had the same orange and brown along with dramatic winged eyeliner and false lashes.

Your hair had a thick but slightly messy fishtail crown braid with the rest waterfalling down your back in waves. Small clips that had butterflies, bees and dragonflies on them had been placed seemingly at random around your head. A crown woven with flowers such as Cardinal flower, wood lilies, dotted gayflower, and multiple colors of milkweed rested on your head. The smell was amazing, they looked and smelled like they had just bloomed in the fields behind your home. The mulberries and huckleberries looked like they had been picked at their peak and preserved perfectly.

“My name is Lavanna, I'm your and Hardin's main stylist. I will be designing all your outfits, I'm fresh out of school, this is my first game. But I plan to put you out there in a big way. Not to sound full of myself but I think the only person who could out do what I have planned for you is my younger brother Cinna.. And thankfully he's still in school.” Lavanna smiled at you before turning to the wardrobe and pulling out what you think are pieces of a dress.

She helps you into a dress that is skin tight from the shoulders, down your arms and chest. Tight all the way to your hips where it had just enough room and stretch to walk before it reached along with a slit that went very very high up your right leg. The top, including your arms, was green like the forest then it started to mix and fade into a dark amberish color. Then it ombred down into a beautiful bright orange that reminded you of the sunsets back home. Again it felt like you were looking at the leaves changing.

She helped you into orange heels that wrapped up your legs but thankfully had a thick heel. Last but not least she told you to raise your arms as she wrapped a belt around your waist. It perfectly blended in with the color of your dress, and attached was something out of a book. It looked like it belonged to royalty or a goddess, not you.

Behind you was a long tulle train, the tulle barely colored to match the dress where it needed too. But at the bottom was leaves, they started green but turned into rich reds and bright vivid oranges and yellows. Leaf shapes stood out to you, yet again from back home.

Birch, black walnut, black and red maple, northern pine oak and cottonwood leaves. Entwined into the leaves were other plants like fluffy cattails, golden wheat, and pampas grass. The only thing you could recognize that wasn't from your district in the entire outfit was pampas grass. All the flowers, all the leaves, even the berries in the crown were all something that grew in your district.

When she turned you around and you caught sight of yourself in the full length mirror you had to step closer and touch the glass. You couldn't believe this was you, sure you had always been told you were pretty, but this was something else. With just some make up, a good proper shower and some fancy clothes you looked like a goddess. You wanted to cry, but couldn't bear to ruin the hours of work you had just gone through.

Lavanna could tell you were at a loss for words, so she stepped forward, careful of the huge train she had created. She smiled at you in the mirror and spoke softly trying not to spook you. “I decided to go a different direction.. The whole farmers thing is a little played out, plus you volunteered for a young girl. And your friend volunteered to stay with you, so I thought you guys deserved something really special.”

When you spoke, it was a whisper “I look like some type of goddess or something.. Like something out of the books in the district library.” You turned to her when she started chuckling, unsure if she was laughing at you or not but she shook her head. “That's what I was going for. Ceres and Saturn, the Goddess of Grain crop and Agriculture. She was also a fertility goddess but we don't need to get into that. And then Saturn God of abundance, wealth, agriculture and a few other unimportant things. Would you like to go see his outfit?”

You nodded silently, still stunned as you looked at yourself one last time. Then you followed Lavanna out into a hall, then down into an area outside that was full of people in costumes and chariots. You turned away refusing to look at the other tributes as you looked for Hardin. And when he appeared you were just as awestruck by his outfit as you had been by your own. But also by him, because he looked so much healthier than he had before.

Hardin had gladiator sandals on with a toga that was tight to his chest and showing part of it. It was the same colors as yours but without all the filigree. He had a crown of leaves that matched the bottom of your train, it had the same berries and some branches on it. His dark curly hair was shiny and tamed for the first time, probably ever. He was also holding a very sharp looking scythe. He looked like the god that would stand next to you, and in this moment he would.

He stared at you in a daze, watching as the train and the bottom of the dress swished around you. He had always told you that you were beautiful, really one of the best looking girls in your age group back home. But now you really looked beautiful, not sweat covered and exhausted from a day in the fields. Even more tired because you knew you would need to come home and care for your grandparents before getting a few hours of sleep and doing it again. You looked like someone who could actually win.

Finnick watched from the district four chariot. He had to force his jaw not to drop as he turned to the sound of heels clicking. His tributes were already waiting on the chariot, one dressed like a fisher the other like a mermaid. They looked great but nowhere near as breathtaking as you looked.

It literally felt like someone slapped Finnick in the face when you walked in. The color of the dress perfectly sets off your skin tone. Your hair fell in just the right way to frame your face. The makeup was dramatic and made the color of your eyes pop. Whoever was styling you had done a fantastic job, but Finnick knew they had a gorgeous model to work with.

He figured you would have looked beautiful in the normal farmer garb your district normally wore. He watched with slight jealousy as you laughed with the male tribute whose name he learned was, Hardin. Watching with a curious mind as the two of you pointed out leaves on your dress with bright eyes and laughed.

He wished that he could be as carefree as you were in that moment. His thoughts were interpreted by a whack on the head. When he turned rubbing the sore spot Mags was smiling up at him with a knowing look. “You like her don't you.” She said as a statement and not a question.

Finnick shook his head and looked around frantically, “First off, you know not to say things like that. Second, I dont even know her.. I just think..” his voice trailed off as he turned back to look at you. A woman who he assumed was your stylist was flitting around you tapping on things placed in your hair. He watched as small insects began to flutter their wings.

His mouth moved without his brain telling it too, he felt so comfortable around Maggie that the facade he put up every single day outside of his home slipped. “I just think she's the most beautiful girl I have ever seen.” As soon as it was out he coughed and rubbed the back of his neck. He had never said something like that, or felt so inclined to talk to someone.

He watched as you and Hardin stepped up onto your chariot, you were now holding a small basket woven into a cornucopia. Your stylist team shoved small flowers and foods into the basket as the main stylist moved the train of your dress to flow behind you. Lavanna held it up with the help of one of the others as your chariot moved. Mags gasped when the wind from the ride caught the ends of your train holding it up. The tulle had folded out giving the effect of leaves and grass flying out behind your chariot. All he wanted was to catch your scent on the air, to feel your warmth radiate around him like the sun.

Taking a step back he forced his brain to remind his hormonal heart that he no longer had the luxury of thinking like that.

He belonged to the Capitol. To Snow. And to the people who threw money away to spend time with him. No matter how disgusting he felt when he crawled into bed at night, it didn't matter. He had people to protect, parents and a friend or two. He couldn't allow himself to feel things towards those he couldn't have.

And he couldn't have you.

PART 2

#finnick x oc #finnick imagine #finnick odair #hunger games finnick

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