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ethereallocs · 11 months

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Siren Pt.2-Modern! Aemond Targaryen x Fem Reader

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen(Bass Player) x Fem Reader (Lead Singer)

Word Count: 2.3k

Content/Warning: !!🔞PLUS!!, Smut, P in V penetration, Spanking, Ass-play Virginity loss, Ass-Licking, Choking, Balcony, Grinding, Exhibitionism, Degredation and Fluff/Aftercare.

Author’s Notes: Now I know I’ve used “The Summoning” by Sleep Token for inspiration for another fan-fiction of mine (Taste of the Divine). But since I’ve heard this song and recently rewatched HOTD I cannot let go of the fact that this song fits Aemond so well. So I’m using it again for this, in my mind it definitely fits better in this scenario so I hope you enjoy reading it just as much as I enjoyed writing it. Oh he has a bit of an ass fetish…

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the HOTD characters nor the song being used. They are used only for creative purposes.

After the bands opening night and the events that transpired later on Y/N was conflicted. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t attracted to him or that she didn’t like him. But one thing about band romances is they hardly ever end well and nothing but drama replaces what once was love. They were now touring in Europe; London, England to be exact. Y/N and the crew were riding on their tour bus to their destination. Aegon, Tommy(electric guitar player), their back up singers and Y/N were up front either sleep, on their phones, or singing. Aemond was in his room, he had isolated himself from the group when he did what he did and hadn’t spoken to Y/N since. He was ashamed of himself, he’d never done something so irrational, but she…she did something to him and brought something almost primal out of him.

He figured she’d never want to speak to him again and awaited the worst to come when or if she decided to tell the rest of their bandmates what happened. He decided to finish a song him and the band had record without Y/N. It was actually written for her, but he’d never admit it. Without warning a knock was heard at his door. “Come in..” And in she came slowly finding a place to stand as awkward as it was. “So I wanted to talk about what happened the other night. Why have you been avoiding me? You don’t just come into my room do… those things to me and then pretend I don’t exist.” She was frustrated for several reasons one of them being that she had been try to get that high feeling again and failed miserably every time. The other because she thought he used her for his own pleasure and basically threw her away like some old toy.

She got slightly distracted hearing the song playing and it sounded really good. “Wait who is that singing?” She wondered he sounded familiar and then it finally came to her. “Aemond…that’s you..” he sighed softly closing his laptop and turning to face her completely. “Yeah…me and Aegon were just fucking around. It’s nothing serious…and to answer your question I’ve been avoiding you because I took things too far with you. I should’ve never touched you in that way and you were intoxicated it was shitty of me and I’m sorry. You didn’t speak to me after that night and I just assumed I had gotten the wrong idea.” She huffed and sat at the corner of his bed trying to find the words to say. “I…I wasn’t mad at you…I just…you..you made me feel something I’ve never experienced before and I didn’t know how to say I want more or tell you I like you back.”

“Wait you like me back? So why the fuck did you tell Aegon the kiss between us on stage meant nothing?” She rolled her eyes and sighed laying back on his bed. “Because I didn’t think you liked me and because I know how band relationships end. They are never a good idea to get into…it just makes everything else difficult.” He listened attentively placing a calloused hand on her thigh squeezing softly before he climbed on top of her to give her a kiss.

“Band or no band you’re stuck with me you know that right? And you had Instagram and Twitter going crazy with that kiss. They’ve been what’s the word stanning over us ever since.”She pulled him in making his lips crash into her, but they were quickly interrupted, when Aegon came crashing through the door, eavesdropping obviously. She ducked and rolled off the bed running back to the front of the bus with everyone else. “Hey Bro, Y/N? What the fuck were y’all doing in here?” He mocked them with kissing and moaning sounds laughing at their obvious embarrassment.

It seemed like the bus ride dragged on for hours and finally they were here at the venue and Y/N was super excited for tonight she had something very special planned for tonight’s performance. As usual the concert goers can rushing in, the place was sold out and every seat was filled. This was going to be perfect she thought. She walked out on stage as usual relishing the chants and cheers as her band played behind her. She raised her hand signaling them to stop and she looked to Aemond with a grin on her face. “So everyone I’m sure you all know Aemond. The best damn bass player in King’s Landing!!!”

They all cheered and she laughed calming them to let her speak. “Well, I’ve got a surprise for you and him too. I just learned on my way here that he is multitalented and him and the band recorded a song. And I’ve only heard a few seconds of it so this will be a first for me and you all. So..without further ado, I welcome to the stage Aemond Targaryen!!!!” The crowd went wild chanting his name and he looked to her in horror she walked to him and placed her hands in his ear whispering. “Your going to do great babe.” She kissed his cheek moving in his spot so that he may take hers.

He stood in the spotlight the light was blinding, but he put on a brave face for her and flashed a smile to the crowd. Aegon signaled the group with the clicks of his drumsticks and they began to play and a voice almost angelic left his lips. Leaving Y/N in awe.

I've got a river running right into you

I've got a blood trail, red in the blue

Something you say or something you do

A taste of the divine

You've got my body, flesh and bone, yeah

The sky above, the Earth below

Raise me up again

Take me past the edge

I want to see the other side

See the other side

The crowd loved every second and still he left Y/N speechless. She had heard him messing around before, but she never thought such a beautiful sound could come from him until now. She felt herself being taken away with the music. Is this what love felt like she thought. He looked back to her and she sang background vocal improvising and he winked at her looking back to the crowd as he continued. His mind filled with thoughts of nothing but her as he sang. Calling to her the way his heart did so silently. The songs tone switched and there was a breakdown she had not expected. He walked toward her with his mic in hand and Vhagar on the side of his waist gripping at her hips and pulling her close.

Oh, and my love

Did I mistake you for a sign from God?

Or are you really here to cut me off?

Or maybe just to turn me on

'Cause these days

I would be lying if I told you that

I didn't wish that I could be your man

Or maybe make a good girl bad

I've got a river running right into you

I've got a blood trail, red in the blue

Something you say or something you do

The taste of the divine

You've got my body, flesh and bone

The sky above, the Earth below

Nothing to say and nowhere to go

A taste of the divine

She shuttered feeling his fingers trailing up and down her spine. He pressed his forehead to hers, chest to chest. Her heart skipped, his lips hovering over hers. He pulled away leaving her wanting. She was unbelievably turned on and it was easy to tell. Her pale cheeks were a rich red and her legs rubbed together trying to find some form of friction. He passed the mic to her kissing her forehead before scooting her back into the limelight where she belonged.

Tonight was another successful performance their were already headlines about the two of them from TMZ to MTV. They were sleeping at a hotel tonight due to their fans stalking the tour bus. Y/N gave him her room key and she went up to take a well needed shower. He let himself in and heard the shower running. He found himself looking around the large room. Checking out the large terrace that was attached to her room. A rather tantalizing idea popped into his head. Shortly after she returned from the shower wearing a crop top and black shorts that stop right above the cuff of her cheeks.

He moved in his seat pulling at his pants trying to remain calm, but she made it oh so hard to. He stood to his feet, seeming to levitate toward her. His hands found their place into the dips of her waist. Pulling her into him. “I should have my way with you for that little stunt you pulled, my little siren.” She blushed biting into her rosy bottom lip. She needed to stop before he devoured her very being. “You tease me and your not even trying. Can you feel what you do to me?” He groaned pressing his sweat pants covered hard on against her hip.

His hands slid into the back of her shorts gripping on her round flesh growling at how well it filled his hands. “Perfect..” He spoke in a hushed tone pulling away to look into her eyes. Her eyes low and filled with lust. His lips crashed into hers and she moaned into his mouth, practically melting into his arms. He picked her up by her ass cheeks and carried her out to the terrace where a table and two chair sat. He sat down with her straddling his lap. “I want you to rub your pussy against my dick.” She looked at him with embarrassed expression. “Out here?” He hummed. “Mhmm…” He positioned her perfectly pulling the back of her shorts down to cuff under her cheek. His hungry hands kneeling them like dough. Pushing and pulling them apart the cool air hitting her skin.

Soon she began bucking her hips against him his cock rubbing against her sensitive clit. His left arm wrapping around her to pull her against him and his right laying harsh smacks against her plump ass. She whimpered and moaned, the red tint flushing to her welting skin. He moaned at the sight and bit into her neck; pumping up into her hips. He spanked her until she was sore and sat her on the table pulling her shorts off the rest of the way. The cool feel of the table caused her to shiver.

He looked to her sweetly before flipping her so she stood on all fours and he stayed in his seat. He smiled at the view spreading her cheeks apart seeing the delicate pink flesh of her pussy glistening from the light hitting her slick. He licked his lips like he was starving. But that tight hole of hers was what he really wanted. He buried his face between her ass and his tongue lapped over the tight flesh of her ass her back arched involuntarily. His eyes rolled at the taste of her. She gasped and moaned holding onto the edges of the table his tongue greedily lapping at her ass and dipping into pussy every now and then.

“Gods…you taste so good..” he cooed as she mewled from the sudden suction of her clit. He smacked her ass again letting his thumb rub against the rim around her asshole. While he looked back at the mess she was already making. “Your such a dirty little slut aren’t you? You’re making quite a mess on this table I wonder if anyone can hear you.” He smiled wickedly and turned her to face him. He stood in between her legs pulling his cock from his pants letting the thick head rub between the slit of her gorgeous cunny.

She writhed in pleasure seeing her like this drove him insane he couldn’t take much more. “Are you ready, my love?” She nodded sweetly. “Please, Aemond…I need it…” she whined and he smiled kissing her to dull the pain as he prodded at her entrance slowly letting it give way around him. He buried his head into her neck and gasped. “You feel amazing, little siren.” He stayed still letting her adjust to his length and girth which was above average. She felt like she was going to break, she need him deeper. “M..More…” he looked into her eyes..”More? Well aren’t you greedy are sure you can handle more?” He laced his fingers around her throat giving her the right amount of pressure before he filled her completely.

She winced but moaned her eyes rolling back. “Good girl you take me so well..” He began his assault pumping into her mercilessly her pussy gripping him like a vice with each pull. “Oh fuck..Aemond…” She called out his name like he always imagined. Was this dream? It couldn’t be it felt too real; too good. “That’s it baby let me make you feel good, baby girl. Let the world hear how good I make you feel.”

She grunted like an animal nails digging into his back the knot in her stomach tightening. She was so close to her release, but he popped her thigh denying her of it. “Please, I can’t hold on anymore..” He hushed her “Just a little longer I want us to cum together.” He continued hitting that spongy spot the drove her crazy, feeling her legs trembling uncontrollably. “Come baby cum on my dick, give it to me.” She screamed creaming all over his dick smearing it with her arousal his seed spilled instantly inside her.

The rode out their orgasms and he carried her inside. He showered with her a got her dressed in a large t shirt leaving soft kisses along her lips and neck. He carried her to bed and they spooned for the remainder of the night until they fell asleep.

To be continued…

@pet1t3 @proudlittlewitchbitch @xlaurenlintonx @jadianasithandjedi @ellxpsismm @chainsawangel @aemondslefteyeball @baebunnyxo @ammo23 @valeskafics @boundlessfantasy

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

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Tedious Joys - Chapter 4 -

- Ao3 link -

It had been an inauspicious year to begin with.

A poor harvest led to famine among the common people, which in turn created conditions ripe for evil creatures of all sorts; the night-hunts that were often treated as playful competition by the cultivation world became more like the boring drudgery of everyday work, disciples setting off in packs on a regular basis all over, time and time again. The tension wore on the sects, some more than others, and dozens of small disputes began to rise up, needing to be dealt with. Lan Qiren’s schedule became busy, and then busier, and then became overwhelming; he was forced to discard one pastime after another in his efforts to hold back the rising tide, and in the end sacrificed sleep and sometimes meals to preserve only two: playing for Jiwei and spending time with his nephews.

It meant that he was unprepared, both mentally and physically, for word of the death of Cangse Sanren and her husband, which took over two years to finally come to ears of the Great Sects – such a shocking failure of information that Lan Qiren briefly wondered if it had been concealed intentionally.

The sudden shock of grief hit him hard.

He tried to convince himself that he had expected it, that she had expected it, that at least her son was now safe in the Lotus Pier, and yet all he could think about was that he had one less friend in the world. The sadness interfered with his focus, creeping in at all hours, uncontrollable, until one evening he was playing guqin with his nephews and looked up to find them both weeping uncontrollably from the music he was playing. When he tried to stop mid-song, he abruptly collapsed, and upon waking was informed that he had become feverish at some point in the night.

His sect doctors advised him to go into seclusion until he could control himself.

Lan Qiren refused.

They advised him again, this time with greater insistence, and with the support of his sect elders.

“Tell them to fuck off,” Lao Nie suggested, pouring a calming tea that he’d brought from Qinghe.

He’d come to visit with his sons, Nie Mingjue disappearing with Lan Xichen as always and Nie Huaisang engaged in the newest stage in his eternal battle of wills with Lan Wangji over a game of weiqi that they were both taking far, far too seriously.

(Despite knowing Lan Wangji and indeed Nie Huaisang better than most people alive, Lan Qiren honestly could not determine whether the two of them despised each other or were close friends. Lao Nie claimed the answer was both, simultaneously, but Lan Qiren didn’t understand that at all.)

“That is not how we do things here,” Lan Qiren said, accepting a cup. It was rude for him to allow a fellow sect leader who was his guest to serve him, rather than the other way around, but he had a headache from the persistent fever and exhaustion that was even more persistent, the boundless river of grief in his heart translating into physical agony, and anyway Lao Nie hadn’t exactly asked permission before proceeding. “It would be more appropriate for me to present a well-reasoned case for it not being necessary, based on rules, authority, and precedent.”

“Except you can’t put one together because you’re upset and tired,” Lao Nie said with a snort. “That’s stupid. You’re overworked, stretched too thin, you just found out that your friend is dead – you need sleep, not seclusion. Anyway, what happens if you do go into seclusion? Aren’t they always saying they need you to stick around to be Sect Leader so desperately?”

Lan Qiren rubbed his eyes. “It would not be true seclusion. I would be expected to continue certain parts of the work.”

“You’re joking.”

“It would be primarily administrative correspondence –”

“By that token, your brother ought to do it!”

Lan Qiren glared. “It’s not the same and you know it. And they are not wrong that I need rest.”

“From what I recall of what you’ve told me about your sect’s practice of seclusion, that’s not rest,” Lao Nie said acidly. “Surely there’s something I can do to help. I could send over some of my disciples…”

“Excellent idea,” Lan Qiren said, rolling his eyes. “We can replace all those rumors that I’ve been secretly pining for years over my best female friend with ones regarding my best male friend.”

“It is a little ‘hero rushes to save the lady’, isn’t it?” Lao Nie said thoughtfully, shaking his head in amusement. “But seriously, I came here for a reason, and it’s not Jiwei or A-Jue or anything like that. You’re always trying to help me, Qiren. For once, let me help you.”

Lan Qiren would normally protest this – because Lao Nie had so done many things for him over the years that it was an incorrect statement, because he hated the helpless feeling of letting someone do things for him, because that wasn’t something sect leaders did for each other – but he was tired and he feared seclusion and sometimes he thought it might be nice to do one thing that could be considered a little reckless before he died.

“Very well,” he said, closing his eyes and drinking the tea. “Do as you like.”

That was a dangerous thing to say to someone like Lao Nie, who promptly pulled three dozen Nie sect disciples from out of nowhere and sent them scurrying around hunting down evil with the energetic enthusiasm of youth entrusted with gigantic sabers and the freedom to use them as they would, while he himself settled in very happily in Lan Qiren’s home, sleeping on a guest bed, keeping away unwanted visitors and helping with any paperwork that didn’t explicitly require a Lan. He also recruited Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen to assist, despite Lan Qiren’s protests that bureaucratic busywork was not an appropriate way for boys of approximately fifteen and definitely twelve, respectively, to spend their time; both of them very solemnly assured Lan Qiren that they were more than happy to do whatever they could.

Even little Lan Wangji and Nie Huaisang bullied their way into being involved, insisting that they wanted to do it more than they wanted to train or play, although at their ages there really wasn’t much they could do besides grind ink and run messages to the relevant recipients.

As Lan Qiren might have expected, rumors immediately started about some sort of torrid affair – life would be so much easier if everyone obeyed the rules against gossiping purposelessly – and they even got to the point that several of the sect elders cautiously hinted to him that although cutsleeve relationships were far from being in vogue, they had at no point been explicitly forbidden by the rules, and cited several provisions which seemed to favor such things.

Lan Qiren had thanked them for the reminder and caustically commented that he would be sure to incorporate that into his next set of lectures as he could see no other reason for them to mention it, and soon enough they backed off, shaking their heads. Still, those busybodies that had his best interests in mind were still preferable to the ones that started once more raising the idea of finding him a nice bride of suitable age – by suitable age, they meant too old for children, lest he get any idea of challenging his brother’s line of descent – before he did anything foolish like fall in love, or, worse, to act on it.

Obviously he had no intentions of permitting that.

Still, after a month of enforced rest, Lan Qiren was feeling a bit more himself. He took on more and more of the work, albeit supervised by five sets of judging eyes, and even began to play once more, this time without bringing anyone to tears. Jiwei and Xinfei rested together by the door in comfortable equilibrium, hot and cold, weak and powerful, and the jade pendant that Lan Qiren carried with him remained cool to the touch, not hot at all.

“You will need to go soon,” he told Lao Nie, who shrugged, not denying it – a month was a long time for a sect leader to be away from home absent some valid excuse like a war, not quite too long but starting to push it. No matter how effective one’s deputies were nor how much work one did from a distance, a sect leader was still necessary, in the end, or else Lan Qiren’s life would have been very different.

“Next week,” he said. “That’ll give me just enough time to take the boys home before heading back out again for the conference in Qishan.”

“There’s a conference? I wasn’t informed.”

“No, you weren’t, because I didn’t inform you,” Lao Nie said, utterly shameless. “You’re going to stay here and rest. It’s just a stupid party.”

“That doesn’t matter if it is also a stupid party which everyone else is attending,” Lan Qiren said sternly.

“Jiang Fengmian isn’t going, either,” Lao Nie said. “Doesn’t want to leave his new ward alone just yet…newest rumor has it that Wei Wuxian’s his bastard with Cangse Sanren.”

Lan Qiren shut his eyes. “Of course. Wasn’t I the one having the affair with her last week?”

“Perhaps it was a love triangle?”

“A square, at minimum. Don’t forget she had a husband.”

“A pyramid!”

“Lao Nie…”

Lao Nie laughed. “Jin Guangshan isn’t making it, either. His wife’s giving birth – predictions say to a daughter, I think, assuming this one survives the birth – and all accounts say that she’s threatened to cut his balls off if he even thinks of leaving Lanling City. So, you see, it really is just a stupid party, and by missing it you’ll be doing just the same thing as all the other Great Sects.”

Lan Qiren felt a sudden stab of misgiving. “Except you.”

“Except me,” Lao Nie said cheerfully. “Me and Hanhan.”

Lan Qiren truly did not want to know what went on in Lao Nie’s mind sometimes.

“Why don’t you refrain from going as well?” he asked, aware he sounded tetchy and irritable like some jealous wife in an opera. “If no one else is going.”

“Oh, I have to go. A-Han asked for me specifically,” Lao Nie said, and Lan Qiren thought to himself oh I’m certain he did, then promptly felt bad about doing so. Sneering for no reason was prohibited. “Someone’s gifted him with some magnificent saber for his collection, apparently, and he was boasting that it was the best there was right up until someone stuck their nose in it and said that it was all well and good but no comparison to my Jiwei.”

Lan Qiren could imagine exactly how well a statement like that had gone over with Wen Ruohan.

“And now he’s demanding you show up and produce evidence?” he asked, unimpressed.

Lao Nie grinned. “Ah, Qiren, it’s almost like you’ve met the man before.”

“You shouldn’t encourage him,” Lan Qiren said. “Why should you go just because he asked? He’s your equal, not your master.”

“There’s no harm in giving him some face.”

Lan Qiren could think of several ways that it could lead to harm, the inflation of Wen Ruohan’s already bloated ego being not the least of them, but Lao Nie was his equal as well, his equal and his elder. If the man had made up his mind, as it clearly appeared that he had, there was nothing Lan Qiren could say that would change it.

“Good luck, then,” he said, shaking his head, and called the boys to come in for dinner. As usual, the Lan half of the table remained mute while the Nie half did nothing but chatter, each according to their own family custom. It was a test of wills and endurance – Lan Wangji’s eye kept twitching every time Nie Huaisang filled in words for him, possibly due to the extremely high pitch Nie Huaisang chose to represent him – but it was a joy to share the time with them nonetheless.

Before Lao Nie left, Lan Qiren tried, not for the first time, to press the jade pendant that resonated with Jiwei into his hand. “You should take it with you,” he insisted. “Especially if you’re going to the Nightless City to exhibit your saber – there’s a great deal of resentful energy there, and you know that always gets Jiwei’s bloodlust up.”

“Which in turn will sharpen my reflexes, just when I need them most,” Lao Nie said, pressing the jade pendant right back into Lan Qiren’s hand. “Better you have it.”

“Lao Nie…”

“Jiwei likes you now,” Lao Nie said, as if that mattered. “She’s been just as avid to protect you as I’ve been, this past month – if I didn’t need her by my side, I’d almost be tempted to leave her here with you.”

Lan Qiren arched his eyebrows. “Are you suggesting that I can’t protect myself? Here? In the Cloud Recesses?”

“Saber spirits are not smart, Qiren. But even she can tell that you’re not well yet.”

Lan Qiren waved a hand dismissively. “Well enough,” he said, and it was even true – the grief was still there, of course, and likely would be every time he thought of Cangse Sanren in the near future, excluding maybe the few times when it was one of his students that resembled her only in terms of how much mischief she would get up to, but it was no longer drowning him. He had hope that, in time, this wound would also scab over and the hurt fade, and that at that time he could once again think of her with nothing but joy.

Lao Nie huffed. “Well enough isn’t well,” he grumbled, but that didn’t stop him from gathering his children and his disciples and heading out back towards Qinghe. “Take care of yourself, Qiren! Be well!”

“And you,” Lan Qiren said. “Keep out of trouble, my friend.”

From what he later heard, the party at the Nightless City went about as anyone with half a brain might have expected: Wen Ruohan swanned around until Lao Nie showed up, there were tense words exchanged, and then Lao Nie produced Jiwei, allowing Wen Ruohan to examine her and even pat her a few times before the Wen sect leader was forced, with great reluctance and through gritted teeth, to admit her superiority to the saber he had received.

The stories ended there, but Lan Qiren had enough imagination to fill in how the rest of the night might have gone, especially with the only sect leaders there being Lao Nie and Wen Ruohan. He sincerely hoped that Lao Nie had remembered all those lectures he’d given him about the foolishness of lying in the same bed as poisonous snakes, no matter how beautiful they might be on the surface.

Perhaps he had, perhaps he hadn’t.

Either way, Lan Qiren heard nothing else until the day he interrupted his own afternoon lecture with a sudden cry of intense pain – the jade pendant had abruptly gone so hot that it had burned, and although his clothing, protected by stitched-in incantations, was unharmed, the heat was so severe that it had nevertheless left a mark on his thigh through all those layers.

Clutching at his leg, Lan Qiren ordered his students to run to fetch him cold water and a doctor, and wondered what in the world had happened.

A letter, he decided. He would write Lao Nie a letter to ask.

#mdzs #lan qiren #sect leader nie #my fic #my fics #tedious joys

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meta-squash · 3 years

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I did a long thread on twitter analyzing/interpreting You’re My Waterloo for the fun of it, but it was mostly for the amusement/interest of myself and like one other friend on there that likes The Libertines. So I figured I’d transcribe it over here where people might get more out of it? Since it was a twitter thread, the sentences might be a bit weird and stilted, by the way. So:

I'm glad they waited to record Waterloo until 2015. I feel like any other time would have been wrong. I know Peter was playing the slow version back in at least 2007 but I think it would have been sad in a different way if they had recorded it before 2015. Like, in 2015 it's just a straight up love song that's slightly sad because, well, it's Peter. If they had recorded it before I feel like it'd have been a love song with resentment wound through it. There's just a lot of emotion in that song and if there's one thing Peter is really really good at doing, it's Emoting Intensely. But it's not just Peter, the piano is so beautiful and the strings are beautiful and Carl's guitar solo is Intense. It's all A Lot. Like, of all the songs that Peter has written about Carl, about their relationship and career and experiences together, THIS is the one where you can feel most strongly the near-obsessive type adoration. So I’m glad they waited to record it properly when they were friends again (also I’m mildly surprised that it was Carl’s suggestion to rerecord it). Anyway.

Fuck the first verse of this song is a lot. This whole song is a lot. I mean it starts off with such a sad sentiment, it's almost a warning? "You'll never fumigate the demons / No matter how much you smoke." You can't smoke away sadness no matter how much you want to. Bitterly ironic, considering the sorts of things Peter ended up smoking etc to chase away demons, the types of extremes they both went to above and beyond just trying to fumigate. But anyway. "Just say you love me for three good reasons / And I'll throw you the rope." It's just so fucking codependent. So intensely obsessive and codependent. There was a quote, I think maybe from Roger Sargent?, about Peter crying outside a venue in like 2002 because even then he was scared about losing his friendship with Carl to the Something Bigger of fame. This feels like a desperate bid to hang on to that love. But also like Peter is so intense. Every video of interviews where he's sitting next to Carl or gigs when they're friends or reunions or whatever, he just wants to be in Carl's space and have Carl's gaze and his attention and stuff. Like a cat that sits on your work.

Again, a digression. Oops. I said I was in a mood. It's so interesting that while it's definitely a love song To Carl, the only direct mention of Love is asking for love From Carl. It's like he's working on the assumption that his feelings are obvious (they are) and desperately wants reassurance or reciprocation.

"You don't need it / Because you are the survivor / Of more than one life" We know the origin of this is apparently Carl's dead twin brother. But also the offering of a rope only to reassure that no, you don't need it is just so...I don't know...sweet? Especially because while "throw you the rope" is obviously a symbol of rescue it could just as easily be a noose. Except that it's neither. Because he doesn't need it. Because he can survive fucking anything, because they love each other--he hopes. It’s like, if you love me as much as I love you, I’ll try to help you, even though I know you don’t need me because you just need to realize you can do it on your own. "And you're the only lover I had / Who ever slept with a knife" The interview where they talk about this line is so funny. "No it's not about us. But Carl did sleep with a knife and the line about being a survivor is about Carl having a dead twin and Peter saying he was the twin reincarnated. But it’s totally not about us." Anyway. Ugh just so much of this song seems to be about Peter being Super Obvious and open about his love for Carl and Carl being more closed off. Carl being the only lover who slept with a knife; he'll accept the love but he's wary of it and wary giving it.

(By the way by love I don't necessarily mean Romantic or Sexual love. They clearly adore each other one way or another, that's obvious enough. But Best Friendship love is 100% a thing.) (However, the Judy Garland line is so funny to me because "Friend of Dorothy" was a secret code for gay men for a while. And considering the amount of queer literature etc Peter references in everything, there's no way he didn't know this.)

I can't really go in depth into the Tony Hancock line since I really don't know much about Hancock and I know that it was a real touchstone for Peter and Carl. But it plus the Judy Garland line feels like a "neither of us have ever really had a home, but we found one in each other" thing. Which is. A lot. Especially with the "until the dawn" bit, because a main component of so many stories about them from other people is the two of them staying up for days together writing and adventuring and just doing stuff and no one else being able to get in their little bubble.

I love the "ahh" after "Stone the crows" and the way the music starts to swell. It's obvious that the next verse is the Important One. And it is. There's the story about Peter crashing an event at the Old Vic while Carl was ushering to tell him they should be writing together and everyone who's there are dicks. But it's also like...so many layers of what is success and what is appreciation and how do you express love. I assume the flowers are not from his show, that he's collected them from the stage after someone else's show. But it's reusing tokens of mostly empty/superficial/performative appreciation--the tradition of tossing flowers on the stage--as a token of genuine love. Sitting through an entire performance, watching someone else's success and dreaming of being there and then using the token of appreciation for that person to instead give it to the person you yourself appreciate and love and want to succeed with. It's like a promise, a "we'll get there." But also another act of desperation because he's been sitting there for hours. Carl wasn't there to receive the gift and wasn't there to write with him. But he's been chasing words around on the page--the love-words to this song or the words to another one?--and he needs Carl there to really complete it, needs Carl there to hear it. It's very much in line with Peter yelling that they should be writing. This intense "Please be with me please accept the way I express myself please complete my incomplete bits please like me as much as I like you" etc.

And then the chorus which is so interesting. I desperately wish I understood the Gypsy Lane and Stanley Park references. I think Stanley Park is a footie reference but I’m not sure? I'm trying to do all of the interpretation off my own brain and not use the notes on the Genius website or anywhere else but I wanted to see if those two references here had been crowdsourced. Apparently both Gypsy Lane and Stanley Park are places he spent time in his childhood (and I called it on the football reference, yes!). Which is. Wow. Okay. And then there's Waterloo which is a whole thing in itself. It's Waterloo as Waterloo but also Waterloo Station. So Carl is able to be Peter's Ultimate Defeat, the thing that has the ability to ruin him. But also Waterloo Station is near the Old Vic where Carl worked & would go to theatre bars, so it's also a place of familiarity. Since I don't know anything else about the Gypsy Lane reference, I can only assume it's also a place of comfort and familiarity. So Peter's admitting to Carl's power over him, ability to hurt him, but offering to comfort him in return. (Important for later.)

"I'm so glad we know just what to do / And exactly who's to blame" I love this line because it knows it's wrong. Especially in 2015 but maybe even in the early days. They bounced blame back and forth between them for YEARS. Not to mention all the outside bullshit. And obviously they didn't know what to do. The Waterloo/Stanley Park is another reference to a familiar place and a power to hurt/offer to comfort moment. I wish I knew if there was some sort of proper football reference here (aka a QPR reference since that's Peter's team) but I know absolutely nothing about sport so idk.

"Well I'm so glad we know just what to do / And no one's left / Stumbling around / Tumbling around / Fumbling around / In the dark" The way Peter sings this sounds so hopeful and sad at the same time. It's interesting to know this line was written way, way back. Like, this song was apparently one of the first ever songs they demoed. The demo is a lot more frantic and less romantic but jesus christ. The way Peter sings it now it's like he knows that was just an unconscious self-fulfilling prophecy. Like, no, they absolutely were left in the dark, hurting each other over and over and not being able/willing to place blame or to communicate. Except now, in 2015, they're not anymore. (and especially not now in 2021). But it's also another desire for comfort. Like, Peter's offering the comfort here. But he's also just confessed the power to hurt that Carl has. So this is also a "are you going to offer me comfort the way I've offered it to you?" sort of question.

And then there's the solo which. Woof. It feels like a response to Peter's words. Like reaching out with sound. Like a shoulder-squeeze or a hug in response, something nonverbal that’s really trying to catch up and match up to the intense emotions in the words. The music crescendos and the solo is literally waves of notes that roll up and down and up and then it crashes down but lands so softly at the feet of the chorus.

And then we have equal footing, sort of (and Carl as Jesus again). Carl is still Peter's Waterloo, his ultimate defeat (or his place of comfort). But now Peter is Carl's Calvary. Which is the place where Jesus was crucified. Peter’s been offering comfort to Carl, but suddenly Peter has power over Carl. It's like...veneration and threat at once. Carl's Jesus, the savior, but also if he doesn't love Peter, Peter has the power to crucify him (or at least threatens to have that power). Or it's another portent: Carl could be Peter's savior, except that everything falls apart and Carl ends up hurt instead. They both end up hurt instead. So then they're on equal footing.

Which brings them to the "Well I'm so glad we know just what to do," which feels a little sadder but also a little more confident than the other two. The answer is in the "Everyone's gonna be happy / But of course." They need to work to figure out how to make each other happy, how to be comfort rather than hurt. It's not that simple. It never is. The "But of course" is a sarcy acknowledgement of how difficult that actually is. But it's also that sort of quiet hopefulness that yeah, maybe soon we'll figure it out and everyone will be happy and will get to say "of course I'm happy" about it.

#i also did one for the Heart Of The Matter video if people are interested #the libertines #peter doherty #carl barat #apologies to the people who have been in this fandom for ages i apparently like diving straight into the deep end #when i get to a subject I like to learn EVERYTHING about it and totally immerse myself very quickly #i've known the basics of the libs story for a while now just from being into mildly related bands #and liking Peter's lyrics enough to research them a bit #but when i get into something new i do all the research on it as quickly and intensely as i can #also i'm just having fun #analyzing literature/lyrics/etc is what i like doing for fun #(PS I do most of my Libertines blogging on my other blog jesuisgourde)

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rosethornewrites · 3 years

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Fic: this body yet survives, ch. 4

Relationship: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn

Characters: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī, Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén, Lán Qǐrén, Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín, Jiāng Yànlí

Additional Tags: No War AU, Recovery, Trauma, Dissociation, Courtship, Courting Rituals

Summary: A conversation is had with Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen, and Wei Wuxian's trauma is an issue.

Notes: See end

Parts 1 & 2

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3

AO3 link

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Wei Ying flagged on the path back up the mountain, his previous bright energy replaced by a sort of trudge. He didn’t flit around, made no mention of catching a new rabbit as he had on the way down. He seemed wrung out, exhausted, simply letting Wangji lead him.

When they arrived back in Cloud Recesses, Wangji brought Wei Ying straight to the jingshi, where they released the turtle into the front pond. It was named, Wei Ying insisted, Tang, for the soup it would never become, and the glimpse of his sharp wit was relieving. Wangji found himself more focused on Wei Ying’s peaceful expression, rather than the turtle that sank into the depths of the pond to hide after its ordeal.

After, Wangji wrapped him in a blanket and played ‘Rest’ and ‘Clarity’ to help Wei Ying relax after the unexpected stress of the morning, then watched him nap.

They had a couple of hours before Uncle and xiongzhang expected Wei Ying, before his formal invitation to the sect, and before Wangji would approach the Jiang siblings for permission to court him. The music helped him, as well, nervousness bubbling in him, though logically he knew there was nothing to justify it—Jiang Yanli had made it clear, in her gestures and facial expressions, that she approved, and though he was uncertain how Jiang Wanyin might feel about it, he knew the young man cared about his brother’s happiness.

Wei Ying had consented to the courtship; that was what mattered, and it added a new layer to the anxiety, a lightheaded sort of happiness that he might have assumed in any other situation was the beginning of illness, it was so strong.

But perhaps love was a sort of illness.

Wangji was relieved Wei Ying seemed to be sleeping better, was eating and putting back on the weight he had lost in the year since his near death. He still looked fragile, curled on the bed, his body gaunt and skin pale. But his brow was unfurrowed as he slept, and good sleep was paramount to healing.

He kept playing his guqin, different songs but always returning to one.

Wei Ying woke after a shichen while he was playing WangXian. Wangji glanced up by chance to find him smiling softly, watching him. Wangji finished the song and stilled the strings before rising to go to him.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better,” Wei Ying said with a smile, sitting up. “The nap helped.”

Wangji offered a hand, and was gratified when it was taken. He helped Wei Ying up, and then helped him adjust his robes, smoothing any wrinkles.

As it was nearly time to meet with shufu and xiongzhang, they made their way to the hanshi after checking on Tang. The turtle seemed at home, sunning itself on a rock on the far side of the pond. Though it was odd to assign human emotions to a non-human creature, Wangji thought perhaps it looked content.

Xiongzhang answered their knock, opening the hanshi to show shufu waiting at the table with a steaming teapot.

He led them in, smiling and gesturing for them to sit.

Wangji tried not to be nervous, though he clenched Bichen’s textured sheath almost convulsively, a habit he had not quite overcome.

Wei Ying, too, seemed nervous, only barely managing not to drop the teacup shufu handed him. He knew only that their courtship would be discussed, not his status as a disciple of Gusu Lan; Wangji wondered if he should have informed him.

“Wei Ying has consented to a courtship,” he said, deciding to open with that.

“You gifted Mother’s guan as a love token, then,” xiongzhang said, sounding approving.

“My—my guan broke this morning,” Wei Ying admitted. “We- we’re going to get a new one in Caiyi, but Lan Zhan asked if I would wear it always.”

Wangji was delighted to notice the blush on Wei Ying’s cheeks, fetching on his still-too-pale skin.

“We approve, of course,” shufu said. “We also were made aware recently that we were not clear enough about your role in Gusu Lan.”

Xiongzhang pulled a simple box made of rosewood from his sleeve and offered it to Wei Ying, who took it, looking confused.

Inside was a pure white disciple’s ribbon with a light blue embroidered cloud in the center. It was a step above the peripheral disciple’s unadorned ribbon; that he was being given an adorned ribbon was a surprise even to Wangji. He had known Wei Ying would be given a ribbon, but that his denoted his status as higher than peripheral disciples was a clear statement of his acceptance on the part of Gusu Lan.

Wei Ying set the box on the table with shaking hands, glancing up at shufu and xiongzhang speechlessly.

“We should have made it clear from the beginning, and offered this when you arrived in Cloud Recesses,” XiChen told him gently. “Should you wish it, this is your home.”

Wei Ying looked like a startled rabbit, as though he might bolt, his mouth working soundlessly. Wangji reached forward slowly and took his hand, hoping to offer comfort, and was relieved when Wei Ying blinked at him, his eyes clearing.

“But… I’m so bad at following the rules. And you really hated me, xiansheng.”

“You have been following the rules for a year,” Wangji pointed out, not caring to address the latter.

Shufu sighed softly.

“Wei Wuxian, you are brilliant and undisciplined, and during your studies you were quite a bit more exuberant than is thought proper.”

It sounds almost like a rebuke, and Wangji squeezes Wei Ying’s hand.

“You were curious about forbidden topics, and I made judgments based on that curiosity,” Lan Qiren finished. “I was wrong to dismiss you so quickly.”

Even xiongzhang seemed surprised by shufu’s admission.

“Perhaps your exuberance was in part from being out from under the abusive thumb of that woman,” he finished. “Which is completely understandable.”

There was a sheen to Wei Ying’s eyes, and he looked down at his lap, trembling. He seemed beyond speech for a moment.

“No. It just… I was always punished no matter what I did,” he whispered. “I figured if I might as well earn it.”

Wangji ran his thumb against the back of Wei Ying’s hand, hoping to comfort him. Wei Ying looked almost haunted, and he wondered if Madam Yu had whipped him on other occasions, only less severely. He wasn’t certain he wanted to know. Wangji had learned more about abuse in the last year than he ever expected, knew that it likely escalated slowly, starting emotional and slowly normalizing until it was physical.

More realistically, he wondered how often Madam Yu had whipped Wei Ying, how many times he had endured until the last.

Shufu frowned, clearly taking in the new information.

“We intended to offer you a place as a Gusu Lan disciple at the beginning,” xiongzhang said, filling the silence. “I’m afraid we did not make that clear to you.”

A tear broke free and made its way down Wei Ying’s face. He managed a smile, though, one that was so filled with relief it broke Wangji’s heart.

“I guess I’ve followed the rules this long.”

His tone was almost cheeky, and xiongzhang laughed softly.

“You are a boon to Gusu Lan,” shufu said, though he shook his head at Wei Ying’s cheek. “As I said, any sect would be foolish to let go of such a talented young cultivator.”

A distant look passed over Wei Ying’s face.

“You did say that,” he murmured. “You said I would be welcome here. I… It’s hard to remember.”

Xiongzhang looked concerned.

“Do not push yourself to,” he advised.

Wei Ying nodded.

“The healers say my mind is repressing the trauma, that it’s protecting me, but that it can affect me. The memories can pop up, can be triggered.”

He crooks a smile, but it’s tremulous.

“But xiansheng told her off, so that’s a good memory.”

His voice was as tremulous as his smile, and Wangji knew these memories were painful regardless of what he said. Even shufu looked concerned and cleared his throat.

“When you are wed, you will receive a ribbon like Wangji’s, signifying you are a part of the inner Lan clan,” he said, clearly an attempt to distract Wei Ying, one Wangji appreciated.

He was even more pleased when it worked, the tremulous expression disappearing under open-mouthed surprise and elation.

“I’ll… I’ll be inner family?”

Wei Ying’s voice is rough. Wangji remembers suddenly that he was never formally adopted into the Jiang clan, referred to as a ward, often berated as the mere son of a servant by various members of the cultivation world, as though the circumstances of his birth lessened his talent and value. That, combined with constant punishment, had to have tainted his sense of self-worth.

“And you will be my husband,” Wangji added.

The way Wei Ying looked at him then, a tiny, almost dreamy smile gracing his lips, had Wangji clutching Bichen for a different reason—it would be inappropriate to push him against the hanshi wall and kiss him senseless, particularly as they were just beginning their courtship and in front of shufu and xiongzhang.

“That’s the best part,” Wei Ying said softly, and raised their joined hands to his lips to kiss the back of Wangji’s.

His eyes were like hot smoke. Wangji thought he was on fire or might melt, his mind going to the book Wei Ying had slipped in the sleeve of the Tao Te Ching...

Shufu cleared his throat, startling both of them. Xiongzhang, on the other hand, was watching with a little smile. Wangji appreciated that his brother was happy for him, but it was nonetheless embarrassing to have lost himself in front of family.

“Gusu Lan has prepared a betrothal gift for Wangji to present to your siblings,” shufu said, blessedly not commenting otherwise.

“I wish to present it to them today, to formally ask for their blessing,” Wangji added.

A gentle pink blush spread across Wei Ying’s cheeks.

“Am I to be the bride, Lan Zhan?” he asked. “I’m afraid I don’t have a dowry.”

Another wave of heat spread through Wangji’s body, imagining Wei Ying draped in red and gold, lifting a red veil.

“You’ve provided your own dowry,” Xichen replied. “All of those talismans you created, and the ones you will undoubtedly invent in the future.”

“Neither of you are brides,” shufu said. “It will be a wedding of a different sort, but the betrothal gifts in this case are to honor you and make it clear you are valued. Rumors in the cultivation world are often vicious, and it’s best to nip them in the bud by preventing them.”

Wei Ying grimaced at that, and Wangji distracted him by returning the gesture from earlier, bringing their joined hands to his lips to kiss gently. He was pleased when Wei Ying relaxed, smiling at him softly, but he couldn’t help but notice that shufu’s ears had gone red.

“I believe I will accompany the two of you,” xiongzhang said, not bothering to hide his amusement. “It’s fairly clear you will need a chaperone.”

Wei Ying blushed, disentangling their hands, and Wangji could feel his ears were red as well.

“Would you like to put on your forehead ribbon before you go?” shufu asked.

He looked at the box with the ribbon, biting his lip.

“I don’t know the right way to put it on,” Wei Ying confessed softly. “If… I mean, since Lan Zhan’s courting me, can he help?”

Wangji knew without looking, in part from how Wei Ying frowned, that his uncle would not approve until they were officially married. If he knew that just this morning Wangji had combed and styled his hair, he might even be scandalized.

“I would be happy to teach Jiang Yanli,” he said.

It was the right thing to say; Wei Ying lit up.

“Shijie taught me how to… how to do the proper style when I was young.”

His smile turned a little strained.

He was speaking of the Yunmeng Jiang style, Wangji knew, but he had never seen Wei Ying wear it. He suspected this was a delicate topic, one related to the cause of so many of his traumas.

Wangji often disagreed with Jiang Wanyin, but in this case he was of the opinion that lingchi would let Madam Yu off too lightly.

He could tell by the way shufu’s mouth tightened, the way Xichen smiled too widely, that they also understood the implications.

“I see you are wearing your hair in a Gusu Lan style today,” xiongzhang commented, clearly hoping to move the topic lighter.

Wei Ying nodded.

“Lan Zhan helped me, after my guan broke. All… all the rest of mine have… They have lotuses,” he finished in a whisper, looking down at the table.

Xiongzhang closed his eyes, clearly overwhelmed, and shufu stroked his beard, a nervous tic of his. They had been there when Wei Ying was found, had seen the lotuses in the water where he had been weighted down and left to die.

The silence that followed was almost oppressive, and Wangji busied himself topping off their tea just to have a reason to move.

“Perhaps your siblings would be willing to go through your qiankun bags to remove the clothing and other things that have that design,” shufu finally said.

“It would make them sad,” Wei Ying said, his voice small.

That it would upset his siblings made sense; large parts of their childhood had happened among the lotuses, swimming and harvesting them. Wei Ying’s favorite soup was made of them, and Wangji wondered if eating it was difficult for him now, if he showed Jiang Yanli a brave face when she made it while hurting inside, or if he could handle the pods but not the flowers. But they would be more hurt that he felt he had to hide his pain.

“They would prefer to help you,” Wangji pointed out gently. “Knowing would allow them to.”

“They would be more focused on helping you, Wei-gongzi, as they are now,” Xichen added. “It would be prudent to discuss this with them.”

Wei Ying grimaced, but said nothing, instead sipping his tea.

“I can help you speak to them,” Wangji offered.

He was troubled when Wei Ying didn’t cheer up, instead tracing a finger around the lip of the teacup in a pensive manner.

“Wei Ying?” he asked softly.

“You already do so much for me, Lan Zhan.”

Wangji could hear shame in his voice, and he took his hand again. He hated that Wei Ying felt like a burden, hated that he constantly put himself last, that he’d been taught to do so. He had been self-sufficient, trying not to bother others with his pain, until he had nearly died.

If he had been able to hide his near-death, Wangji was certain he would have. That the entire cultivation world knew of it almost certainly weighed on him.

“I will do as much as you need, as long as you need it,” he said. “And I will always want to.”

Wangji didn’t know how to convince him he wasn’t a burden, that his continued existence was a blessing. He could only keep trying to show him.

Wei Ying squeezed his hand, ducking his head and blushing.He could see tears in the corners of Wei Ying’s eyes, and thought perhaps he believed after all.

“Aiya, Lan Zhan, my heart can’t take your sincerity! Warn me next time.”

He knew this was Wei Ying’s way of deflecting in a moment of high emotion, injecting levity to try to avoid getting overwhelmed.

“Mn. This is your ongoing warning,” he replied.

A thrill ran through him when Wei Ying gaped at him, looking delighted. He wanted him to have that happiness always.

“Not fair! You have to warn me every time.”

“Not possible. Wei Ying always deserves sincerity.”

“Lan Zhan!”

A fetching blush spread across Wei Ying’s face, and Wangji caught himself leaning closer unconsciously.

Shufu cleared his throat, and Wangji realized he’d forgotten they were not alone for a moment, so focused he had been on reassuring Wei Ying.

But it seemed since he’d met him, his attention was always on Wei Ying. It belonged on Wei Ying.

“Perhaps we should go speak to the Jiang siblings now, to make your courtship official,” xiongzhang said diplomatically.

Xichen seemed amused, a little smile playing at the edges of his mouth.

“Though we will of course need to arrange for consistent chaperones, as well.”

Wei Ying blushed even brighter than before, and Wangji mentally recited relevant rules. He wanted to kiss those plush lips and the mole under them.

“I would not disrespect Wei Ying,” he said, though truly he could see himself tempted in moments. “But a chaperone would show his worth to the world.”

Shufu made a noise of agreement, stroking his beard.

“Now, more than ever, it is necessary to make that clear.”

It occurred to Wangji then to inform them of the encounter with Madam Jin and Jin Zixuan in the marketplace of Caiyi.

“She wished to keep the purpose of the talismans quiet,” Wei Ying murmured when he was done explaining.

“You accepted her commission, then?” shufu asked, looking surprised.

Wei Ying simply nodded, not offering any other details. He had shrunk in on himself, his posture defensive. Wangji could see that shufu and xiongzhang were concerned.

“Madam Jin mentioned she has dissolved her sworn sisterhood,” Wangji said carefully. “She commissioned talismans to help find Jin Zixuan’s half siblings so she may offer protection and a place in the cultivation world, should they wish it.”

A tremor ran through Wei Ying.

“She said she dissolved it because of what… what happened to me. That she didn’t want…”

Wei Ying choked on his words, and Wangji impulsively pulled him close, holding him as he did when he had finally reached him through “WangXian.”

“She’s going to blame me,” he said weakly. “She will.”

Wangji pulled him tighter against him, almost convulsively. Madam Yu had nearly killed him over something minor comparatively. He could only imagine what was running through Wei Ying’s mind, what memories were being dredged up.

“She will not be permitted in the Cloud Recesses,” xiongzhang said, his voice forceful, angrier than Wangji had ever heard his brother. “You are safe. You will be protected.”

Wei Ying said nothing, only trembled, and Wangji could supply what he was thinking with little effort—he had thought himself safe and protected at Lotus Cove, and it had not been so. How could he possibly feel safe anywhere when his last home turned out not to be?

Seeing him like this was difficult, watching him joke one minute and shake helplessly the next, but some days were like this for Wei Ying. Regardless, it was an improvement over his days of fugue.

“Madam Jin wants the world to know that behavior is unacceptable,” Wangji said hollowly, rubbing his thumb against the nape of Wei Ying’s neck in a way he hoped might comfort him, petting the soft baby hair at his hairline. “She said there needed to be an alternate example.”

Shufu looked intrigued by that, but Wangji kept his focus on Wei Ying. He was surprised to have not been scolded for this transgression, but perhaps his uncle and brother were taking Wei Ying’s mental well-being into account.

“We will speak to her. I assume she and Jin-gongzi will be visiting Cloud Recesses shortly if they are in Caiyi,” shufu said after a moment. “Though gossip is forbidden here, it can be weaponized in the cultivation world.”

Wangji frowned at shufu as Wei Ying’s grip tightened in his robes; he needed no reminder of that. The gossip of the cultivation world had stoked Madam Yu’s bitterness. Wei Ying had lived much of his life under its shadow, and the scars it had left pained him daily.

“Rumors can be turned,” xiongzhang said thoughtfully. “The talisman you will invent for Madam Jin would demonstrate the falseness of prior rumors.”

Such a demonstration would make it clear Wei Ying shared no blood with the Jiangs.

Wei Ying shook his head, still hidden against Wangji’s chest.

“I don’t want to.”

Even his voice trembled, and Wangji’s heart ached. So long ago, they had watched their lantern rise into the evening sky, and he had been awed by Wei Ying’s simple but profound wish, to stand with justice and live with no regrets. What was being proposed skirted the line between justice and revenge. Of course he would be opposed.

“‘Do not sow discord,’” Wangji said softly, ignoring how both his uncle and brother flinched at the reminder they were violating a tenet of Gusu Lan. “Nothing good would come of such a course of action.”

He turned his focus more completely to Wei Ying then, running a hand gently through his hair, humming “WangXian” again softly. Wangji was relieved when he started to relax against him.

“Please accept my apologies, Wei Wuxian,” shufu said eventually.

Though Wangji didn’t know how long it had been since he had spoken, Wei Ying had relaxed almost fully.

“Rumors, whether true or not, have done far too much damage,” xiongzhang acknowledged. “We are humbled by your reminder, Wangji.”

Wei Ying’s grip loosened on Wangji, and he sat back up, still leaning close. He didn’t say anything, but there was a sort of misery in his expression that made Wangji want to pull him back into his arms and protect him.

“I don’t wish her ill,” he whispered finally, his voice hoarse. “Even after everything, I don’t.”

“Wei Ying is righteous,” Wangji murmured, earning a tiny smile from Wei Ying.

So much of his attention was on Wei Ying that until Wei Ying gasped he didn’t realize that both shufu and xiongzhang had kowtowed.

“Our idle words have caused you unnecessary pain,” shufu said, still bowed forward. “I truly misjudged you when you came to the lectures before; you embody the virtues of Gusu Lan.”

“I don’t,” Wei Ying immediately denied. “I break the rules all the time.”

Wangji frowned at him; shufu was not speaking of rules but virtues, and he knew Wei Ying was aware of the difference. He was discounting his own virtue, his inherent goodness, that light in him that had nearly been snuffed out.

“Not the most essential teachings,” xiongzhang said before he could correct him, rising out of his kowtow. “You have the sort of integrity and moral compass that all our disciples should have.”

Wei Ying shrugged slightly, dismissive. Shufu righted himself, frowning.

“Wei Wuxian, perhaps one virtue you must work on is ‘Love and respect yourself.’”

Wei Ying flinched, looking down.

“I will try, xiansheng.”

“See that you do,” shufu replied easily. “I would prefer not to insist you study the virtues, though I will if necessary.”

Wangji wondered if such an exercise would help, if perhaps conversation about the virtues and their history and meaning would help Wei Ying understand what shufu meant, or if he would always doubt his own worth.

“As I am certain Madam Jin and Jin-gongzi will come to visit your sister shortly, we should speak to your siblings now,” xiongzhang said. “They will undoubtedly greet shufu first, so we have some time.”

Nervousness fluttered in Wangji’s stomach, but he helped Wei Ying stand when xiongzhang rose. Wei Ying picked up the box with his forehead ribbon with a sort of reverence.

Before they could move to properly bow to shufu and leave, there was a knock on the hanshi door.

“Enter,” shufu called.

One of the peripheral disciples, from his unadorned ribbon, came in and bowed.

“Jin-furen and Jin-gongzi have arrived at the Cloud Recesses and seek audience, xiansheng. They are being escorted here now.”

Shufu nodded.

“I will prepare tea. Please accompany Xichen, Wangji, and Wei Wuxian. There are several baskets to carry.”

He gestured toward a screen, behind which presumably were the betrothal gifts. The disciple bowed.

“Yes, xiansheng.”

Wei Ying shifted nervously as the baskets were brought out, all decorated in red ribbon and draped in red veil-like material to hide the contents from prying eyes. Wangji squeezed his hand. They would be together for this, and for all things to follow.

---------

This chapter was difficult and went places I didn’t entirely expect. Initially I thought it would get through the betrothal meeting, but Wei Wuxian’s trauma reared up and was important to explore. In the novel canon, Madam Yu has whipped him before the incident with Wang Lingjiao, but she whips no other Yunmeng Jiang disciples. Meanwhile, in CQL canon it seems to be an act that is completely shocking to Jiang Cheng, while Wei Wuxian accepts it as necessary for political reasons.

The Gusu Lan forehead ribbons here are kind of a meld of CQL and novel canon. Inner clan in the novel wear the embroidered ribbon, but in CQL there seems to be three levels, as Lan Wangji is shown wearing the metal cloud ribbon as a child and both Jingyi and Sizhui wear ones with an embroidered cloud, while some other disciples have unadorned ribbons. Technically, Wei Wuxian should probably have a plain ribbon, but here Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen are making a statement.

Yes, frankencanon. The rule about sowing discord is from CQL according to Unforth’s “A Compiled List of Known Lan Clan Rules.”

#the untamed #mo dao zu shi #chen qing ling #cql #mdzs #untamed fanfiction #untamed fanfic #mdzs fanfic #mdzs fanfiction #cql fanfic #cql fanfiction #lan wangji #lan qiren #lan xichen #wei wuxian #wei ying #lan zhan #my fanfiction

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ubernoxa · 4 years

Text

The Token: A GNR FanFic

Chapter 4: The First Gig

Story Summary: Story inspired by the movie She’s the Man. A female Duff is tired of dealing with the bullshit of trying to make it on the strip as a female bassist.

Chapter Summary: Michelle is worried that Izzy will reveal her secret about her being Duff. Free coffee, and their first gig as Guns N’ Roses!

Masterlist

Taglist: @viralwolf02 @littlemisscare-all @smokeandmirrorz @aratbaby

Please let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list or if I forgot to add you. (I’m not the best with tag lists

Author’s Note: sorry this chapter is kinda long, but I didn’t want to beak it into two smaller chapters.

Chapter 4

I balanced the coffee as I quickly knocked on the door of the Hell House as the guys called it. Axl had arranged a band meeting for god knows what reason this morning before our first gig. As I peaked into the windows, I quickly realized there was no movement inside. So much for our morning meeting, the guys were probably still asleep.

Things had been going pretty well this past week, not to brag or anything. It was probably one of the more stressful weeks in my life with the pressure of a gig around the corner. Lucky for me most of songs were covers I had played before, and the guys helped me with any originals. I would be lying if I said Macy didn’t pound on my bedroom door telling me to stop in the middle of the night. She would always look at me like a crazy person when she told me to stop and quizzed me on why I wasn’t sleeping. I always shrugged and said I wanted to be ready for the gig. I didn’t want to let my band down; however, that was only part of the reason. I never told her about Izzy. It had been a week since Izzy had casually dropped the bomb that he knew that I was masquerading as a guy.Since that day he hasn’t brought it up. Even after spending over 8 hours a day practicing, he didn’t say a word about it. If we talked, it was about music or tweaks we could make to sound better. He was a good musician, he really had an ear for it. All of them did actually, I was lucky they chose me.

“Mornin,” I was met with a very tired Izzy. He held the door open for me as I walked in quickly realizing that there was no way we were going to have a meeting in a couple minutes.

I walked into the living room and set the coffees down on the nearest flat surface I could find. I felt a flash a relief flow through me as the drinks safely made it to their destination. I had spent the last Thierry minutes of my very boring shift making them.

“They’re labeled, I’m assuming you know what your name is?” I said before plopping down on the couch.

“Any reason for the...” Izzy gestured towards the coffee what was sitting on the table nearby.

“Michelle was working this morning and wanted to treat the band with something nice because morning meetings suck...especially if Axl arranged the meeting,” I causally responded trying to keep up my act.

“Is she coming to the gig tonight? I’d love to thank her in person,” I rolled my eyes at his comment and sent him my best ‘are you serious look?’ earning a quiet chuckle from him.

I watched from the corner of my eye to see if I got his order right. I watched as he smiled after taking the sip.

“How many people know?” His question shouldn’t have caught me off guard but it did none the less.

“Depends,” my answer was short in hopes that he would drop it. Inside the house where the rest of the band was currently sleeping wasn’t the ‘ideal’ place to have this conversation.

“Depends on what?”

“On how many people you have told.”

“I’ve told no one,” his answer caught me off guard as I raised a brow.

“Really? Not even your Indiana brother?” This earned another laugh from him as he shook his head no.

“Do people seriously call us that?”

“That’s how I was introduced to y’all. I believe it went something like ‘and those pair of dicks right there are Axl and Izzy. Don’t waste your words on them. The redhead will get pissy no matter what you say, and I highly doubt the other would even pay attention.” I took another sip remembering Derek from my last band Double Dead introducing them to me them as if I hadn’t known who Izzy and Axl were. After a while on the strip you learn who’s who rather quickly. The main question was if what you learn about a person was the truth. Word of mouth was a dangerous thing

“Wow that’s harsh,” part of me felt bad for Izzy and I honestly should have left that out the last part.

“Well that’s when I was apart Double Dead, which looking back was a shifty band name. If I remembered correctly later that evening after the gig you guys beat the living shout out of my band,” I couldn’t help but check at how much of a train wreck that night was.

“That was the night you got me good with your bass!” I smiled as his laughed quickly joined mine.

“So you did recognize my bass! It was the dent wasn’t it?”

“How could I forget the bass that got me in the side of the head. Not every day does a chick beat you with her bass. Left a bruise for a month.”

“Well...in my defense I was aiming for Axl...sorry,” I felt bad remembering that night.

“No need to apologize, pretty sure Axl started the fight.”

“Little Axl Rose? Him? Noo....he would NEVER start a fight,” I teased back. It was moments like this regret flooded me. What if I came to them as Michelle instead of Duff? How different would things had been?

“What’s in this?” Izzy pulled me from my thoughts and back to reality as he spoke.

“Just like a magician, a barista never revels her secret,” I teased as I tried to hide the smile that was growing like a weed on my face.

My original plan was to make black coffee’s for everyone, but I knew Steven wouldn’t like it. Once I started making Steven’s, I thought why not make the rest of the guys a personal cup.

“You still mad at Axl?”

“No, why?” I turned my attention back towards Izzy as he spoke.

“The small cup, I’m assuming it’s for Axl because he called Michelle a mediocre bassist,” I shook my head and couldn’t help the laughter escape my lips.

“The small cup is for Steven. The last thing that boy needs is a lot of caffeine,” this time it was Izzy’s laughter that filled the room.

“If I....Michelle...wanted to mess with Axl, she would have put milk that was beyond spoiled and mixed in vanilla and berry flavors to mask it. It would give him the runs without knowing what caused it!” I stared in a matter of fact tone. I’m not saying it’s a prank I’ve pulled on my oldest sister, I’m just saying I didn’t not do it. Plus she had it coming.

His laughter filled the room again, “noted”

“What do we have here?” Slash asked looking at the coffee cups sitting on the table.

“Coffee, each of them are apparently different. Yours has your name on it,” Izzy said

“What’s mine?”

“Medium roast with cream,” I quickly responded earning a glare from Izzy.

“Not too bad,” he shrugged before joining us on the couches.

“How come he gets to know, but I don’t?” I had to mask the smile of my face with a shrug. He had made me feel like I was walking on glass, afraid he would tell the guys I’m actually a girl, all week. This wasn’t on the same level, but it made me feel like for once I had an upper hand. (Even though it was only coffee)

“I can’t remember? Plus Michelle is the one who made them anyway,” I raised my arms in defense never breaking eye contact.

“You dating her or some shit like that,” I watched as Izzy immediately took a sip of his coffee to hide his smirk.

“No, why?” I was frozen as I tried to understand his logic.

“Well she’s kinda acting like a groupie...”

“Who’s acting like a groupie?” Steven popped into the room like the morning sun.

“Michelle,” Izzy responded. I hated how much he was enjoying this. He was enjoying watching me squirm.

“Kinda tall, brunette, bassist, nice legs?” Slash asked with Steven quickly nodding.

I continued to drink my coffee wishing that I could turn invisible. This felt weird. I felt like I should leave the room or something.

“You should invite her to the gig tonight,” Steven’s heart was in the right place and what he was trying to do was sweet, but I wanted him the shut the fuck up. There was a small logistics problem with Duff inviting Michelle to the gig.

“Yeah! We can thank her for the coffee after the gig,” I glared at Izzy as he spoke. He was enjoying this. That bastard...

“I doubt she’ll come,” I shot back at Izzy.

“Who won’t come?,” by now Axl had finally made it down to the living room. He quickly grabbed the last coffee. Why the hell was everyone waking up NOW.

“Michelle, the bassist” I shot back.

I watched as a smirk formed on his face before he took a quick sip of his coffee, “Yeah, she ain’t coming. She’ll probably avoid Guns N’ Roses like the plague. Especially after what happened with Pixie and Double Dead.”

I prayed he wouldn’t elaborate what happened with Pixie. He could talk about Double Dead all he wanted. Pixie though, Pixie was another story.

————————-

“Stop being such a girl Duff, your hair looks fine,” I sent Izzy a glare from across the room. I could tell he was all too happy with his comment. That bastard had been teasing me all week, and aI was getting sick and tired of it.

“If anyone is the girl here it’s Axl,”

“It’s called Glam Slash!” By now Axl was standing where I was only moments ago applying some additional eyeshadow.

“How many cans of hairspray did you have to steal to get your hair to stick like that,” Izzy said above the laughter.

Axl’s hair resembled a lion’s mane. It was impressive and I was beyond jealous. I wished I hadn’t cut off most of my hair, so I could recreate his hairstyle.

“You’re just jealous! Chicks dig the big hair!” He shot back at Izzy.

“He’s not wrong,” I couldn’t help but smirk as I spoke, my voice barely auditable over the noise of the bar. Izzy just rolled his eyes and went back to messing with his guitars.

“You’re on in 5,” a man yelled into our tiny room causing all of my nerves to flood my body. That’s when I realized it had been months since I had performed on stage. I could already feel my palms getting sweaty as I sat down next to Steven. I could feel him watching me as I wiped my hands against my pants.

I felt him pat my back causing me to look up at him. “No need to be nervous. You’ll kick ass out there.”

I sent him a fake smile which he obviously didn’t by. “Dude, Duff, you’ll be fine. Plus it’s always good to be nervous!”

“Why would I want to be nervous? That’s when you make mistakes?” I shot back. Steven is a great guy, but sometimes I don’t understand what he’s getting at.

“Being nervous just means you care. Plus it’s your first show on the strip! You’ll love it! The energy is incomparable!” There was some sort of sparkle in Steven’s eyes that was uplifting. It was like a child talking about all of the candy they got on Halloween.

“Here,” I looked up to Izzy who handed me a shot.

“It will help, and if it doesn’t we have plenty more,” I nodded and took the shot from him and held back a cough as the burn traveled down my throat.

I earned a cheer from Steven and Slash passed me my bass.

“Alright boys lets go kick some ass and show them a show they won’t forget!” Axl yelled right before they walked onto the stage.

And kick ass we did! Despite Axl hating snakes, his dancing reminded me of some type of rattlesnake. It was pretty entertaining to watch, but Slash running around the stage like a mad man was even better. After our third song in the set, I quickly followed Slash’s insanity. The entire performance felt like a breath of fresh air, and the moment I stepped off of the stage I wanted to get right back up there. It just felt right. We clicked. I had lost tracks of the amount of times I have performed on a stage, but I have NEVER felt anything like I felt tonight. This was something special. Maybe this was the band that would make it. Maybe?

Steven raised a bottle of god know what and cheered, “To Duff, no longer a Sunset Strip virgin.” Cheering and laughter filled the room as he spoke. I knew what he was getting at, but there were thousands of better ways to phrase it.

“I’m gonna go for a smoke,” I said before stumbling towards the door. The air outside was more refreshing than the cold beer and vodka I had been drinking since the gig was over.

“Congrats,” I turned to see Izzy standing in the doorway.

“Same to you,” I smiled.

“Well I wasn’t a Sunset Strip virgin before the show so...” I glared at Izzy only for a second before I join in his laughter at what Steven had said earlier.

“How much has he had to drink? Because I don’t think he thought that last sentence through,” I joked back.

“Good thing you aren’t a girl; otherwise, his statement would have been taken into an entirely different context. Very inappropriate,” Izzy cooly replied earning a small chuckle from me. Guy’s minds are all the same.

“I was worried Steven was going to fall out of his seat while he was playing earlier,” I said in hopes of changing the subject.

“That’s popcorn for ya!” He offered me a smile before he went back to smoking.

After several moments of uncomfortable silence, I added “And for someone who hates snakes, Axl sure dances like one.”

Izzy nodded apparently keen on not wanting to have a conversation. Fine then, awkward silence it was. I still needed the fresh air to help me sober up a little. I closed my eyes and focused on the sounds of the strip and the refreshing cold air.

“You never answered my question earlier,” Izzy stared snapping me back.

“Which one?”

“The one about who knows about your secret,” he replied earning a small ‘ohhh’ from me.

“At least four people know. You, Macy, Walter, and Betsie,” I replied.

“How’d Betsie find out?”

“She saw my face,” I shrugged as I spoke to him. It was inevitable. I was originally hoping I could hide behind my hair, but Macy cut it just a tad too short, so I was wearing sunglasses.

“You do have a unique face,” I shot him a confused look. Was that supposed to be a compliment or insult? I just shook my head and decided against pressing further.

“So what’s the plan?” I turned to Izzy as he once again broke the silence and pulled me out of my thoughts.

“Plan for what?”

“You can’t remain a guy forever. You’re a chick, eventually you’re going to have to reveal that,” he turned towards me as he stomped out his cigarettes

“When we get our record deal or first tour.”

“When? Wow someone’s getting cocky,” Izzy shot back.

“Did you feel it?” My voice was barely louder than a mouse as I spoke.

“Feel what?”

“I don’t know Izzy, it’s hard to describe. But when we were playing I felt something. Yeah, we had a small crowd, but I felt something I’ve never felt before!”

“Yeah, I felt it too, but be careful we already have one cocky bastard in the band, we don’t need a second.”

“Yeah...yeah...”

More silence followed.

“Is it weird, preforming as Duff?”

I sent Izzy a small smiled and shook my head yes.

“It’s like a mask I put on. When I’m on stage playing, I’m always Michelle. There is no changing who I am inside. Whenever I look in the mirror or play Guns N’ Roses songs it feels weird. Guns an’ Roses is Duff’s,” I took relief as I said those words out loud.

“I like your hair by the way. The brown part that you didn’t dye, it’s kinda poetic. Even though you put on this show that you’re Duff, Michelle is still there,” Izzy said before turning to head back inside.

“Hey Iz, how do you think the guys would react if I told them....” my heart sunk the moment my eyes met his.

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guardiankarenterrier · 4 years

Note

ask meme: we are golden by mika and lukadrigaminette please!

(for this ask meme)

(my ao3)

Marinette finds Adrien lounging in the crow’s nest, sprawling in a strip of sunlight in a way that absolutely cannot be safe. Plagg’s ears are just barely visible in the hood of Adrien’s Kitty Section jacket- ever since Luka had given him that jacket, Marinette hasn’t seen a trace of his old overshirt, so she’s glad Plagg’s made himself so comfortable so quickly.

She only hesitates a moment before she joins them.

“Hey,” Adrien greets her drowsily, not bothering to get up. Or move. “Anyone figure out where Rose and Juleka got to?"

"They weren’t on the ship,” Marinette says, dryly. Tikki giggles.

“Oh." Adrien does blink at that, sitting up more only to very deliberately fall into her side. "Whoops."

Marinette shoves at him, playfully, in a way she wouldn’t have dared a week or two before. "We went back and got them, kitty."

Adrien makes a complicated face. "I kinda liked the idea of it being just us."

"Anarka is still here,” Marinette reminds him. “What with the Liberty being her home. You know, like it’s Rose and Juleka’s home? We really had to go back for them."

Adrien mutters something, reminding her of nothing so much as a grumpy cat.

Marinette gentles her voice. Adrien has a right to be worried, after all. "Don’t worry, no one saw us. Anarka only stopped long enough for them to get on."

Adrien cracks one eye open, then the other, blinking slowly.

"I’m sure no one saw us,” Marinette repeats, because he seems like he needs it repeated. She notices Tikki burying herself back into her purse, but she doesn’t think anything of it. “Even if they did, they probably don’t realise the Liberty is seaworthy."

"I am not convinced it is,” Kagami says from just below them, making Marinette jump before she can help herself. Plagg’s ears vanish into Adrien’s jacket at the same time.

She should be used to people sneaking up on her, after all this time partnered with Adrien, but somehow Kagami is still able to take her by surprise.

It’s so much more frustrating that Kagami clearly isn’t trying to do it.

“Hey,” Marinette calls down to Kagami, glancing around the crow’s nest and trying to judge if there’s space.

There’s not, really, but that’s never stopped them before.

She shrugs out from under Adrien long enough to fold her arms over the edge of the crow’s nest, looking down at Kagami and spotting Luka emerging from below decks. “Hey, come join us!”

Luka raises his eyebrows as he looks up at them. “Pretty sure there’s a rule about there only being one person up there at a time.”

“Pretty sure your mom’s allergic to rules,” Marinette points out, raising her eyebrows right back. “Get up here."

"I didn’t say it was Mom’s rule." Luka’s already climbing, though, with Kagami right behind him, so Marinette pays that exactly as much attention as it deserves. Which is none.

Adrien tugs her back down against his side, letting out a very quiet purr before the others can reach them.

"Adrien,” Marinette says, very cautiously, and he makes a face at her. He clearly tries to stop purring, but he’s not very successful.

“I still think they know anyway,” he mutters, ducking his head long enough to brush his bangs across her arm. It’s not quite the full-on head bump he’ll do when they’re alone, but it’s verging very close to it.

Marinette sighs, her heart aching. “We still shouldn’t confirm it."

"We could consider it." He doesn’t move. "No more Hawkmoth. No one’s gonna let him out of jail anytime soon. Right?”

Now he’s stopped purring.

“Adrien-” Marinette reaches for him at that, but Kagami and Luka have reached them, so she bites down hard on any of the things she wants to say. She’ll find the time. She’s not sure how, since there’s not a whole lot of privacy on a ship the size of the Liberty to begin with and it’s really not designed for long trips with seven people (and assorted kwami), but she’ll make time somehow.

Luka drops down to join the two of them right away, jostling them slightly when he can’t quite fit his guitar into the impromptu cuddle pile, but Kagami only stands above them awkwardly.

Marinette reaches for her, as much as she can with both Adrien and Luka in the way. “It’s warmer down by us, you know."

"Warmer,” Kagami echoes, and then shakes her head, hard, and takes a seat at the edge of the crow’s nest. Her knees are in contact with Adrien’s shoulder, though, and that might be the best they can hope for yet.

Adrien has always been too touch-starved to care about decorum, assuming he would have in the first place, and while Luka sometimes has to draw away and take time for himself he’s not terribly shy about it either. Kagami alone of them is still wary of too much physical contact.

Kagami alone of all of them could potentially face consequences for running off the way they have.

Marinette told her parents ahead of time (though not far enough ahead of time for them to stop her. They’d been enthusiastic about the trip, though, even if Marinette had left out some pertinent details). Luka’s mom is not exactly in a position to be upset. Adrien’s dad is… not currently able to prevent him. Neither is Nathalie, and while she’s pretty sure he did tell the Gorilla where he was going it’s been a long time now since the Gorilla’s made even a token attempt to stop them.

Adrien has every reason to take off with them for the summer and no reason to stay. Penny and Jagged helped him find someone to manage the estate once Marinette had figured out a discreet way to ask them, and there’s no one else living at the mansion anymore. Marinette strongly suspects Adrien isn’t planning on going back to it himself.

She doesn’t think he’ll be able to without being far too aware of Hawkmoth’s lair beneath his feet.

(After the battle, after they’d gotten somewhere safe and private and detransformed, he’d stayed pressed against her side as he held Plagg and shook for the better part of an hour. She thinks the idea that Hawkmoth could have so easily gotten his hands on his kwami might actually have scared him more than his father being Hawkmoth, and that itself is frightening).

“We’ve already lost sight of the shore,” Kagami observes, a strange note in her voice that seems divided between hope and fear. Adrien’s running away just as much as she is, but Kagami’s mother is fully capable of trying to find her again.

Trying. Luka hadn’t offered up the Liberty for no reason.

“The Liberty’s faster than you’d think,” Luka offers now, getting up only to move to a position where he can bring his guitar around to start letting his fingers play idly over the strings. He hums occasionally, trying on and discarding various songs. “And I heard that, by the way. She’s seaworthy."

"Is that wordplay?" Kagami asks him, suspicion in her voice as her hand twitches towards the hilt of a sword she doesn’t have.

She could have brought it. Marinette very much doubts that Anarka would have cared.

She doesn’t think Kagami would have believed that, though.

"It’s not wordplay,” Luka assures her, fingers dancing faster as he finds his song. “We’ve taken her out on the ocean before. She may not look like she can handle it, but trust me, we’ll be fine. Might be hard for us to reach anyone else, but we’ll be fine."

Tikki must have phased through her purse and into her shirt at some point, because Marinette feels her kwami press against her side at that even as the guilt wells up. She really shouldn’t be taking four of the heroes out to sea at once, but Nino knows how to reach them if there really is an emergency. They can still transform. They still have their water power-ups if they really need them.

What they’d really needed for themselves was a break.

A break, and time for Adrien to try and figure out what he’s going to do now.

(Marinette knows for a fact that she, Luka, Nino, and even Chloé have all already offered him places to stay. She’d found out after they’d made their plans to go with Anarka for the summer that Kim and Max and Alix had all offered, too. Nathaniel had apologised for not having enough space, but that turned out to be because he already had Marc living with him. The class members who couldn’t give Adrien a place had all tried to help him find one.

She’d found him crying in the locker room at the end of the day, too overwhelmed by everyone’s unexpected kindness to try and make a decision. In the end it was the idea of taking Kagami with them that decided him on the Liberty).

Luka’s voice finds the words he wants the same way his hands have found the notes he wants. "Teenage dreams in a teenage circus, running around like a clown on purpose-"

”Hey,“ Adrien says, but he tilts his head towards Luka’s playing. Marinette’s sure if he were transformed his ears would be trained on Luka.

Luka leans back with a faint twitch to his smile and keeps singing. ”-who gives a damn about the family you come from? No givin’ up when you’re young and you want-“ Luka does stumble for a moment, fingers slipping for the barest part of a second. ”-One.“

Kagami leans closer to Marinette. "I think he changed something."

"I think he did,” Marinette agrees, amused, though she doesn’t know the song well enough to know what Luka could have changed.

“Do you want me to play or not?” Luka asks with a laugh. He clearly tries to still his hands, but he can’t seem to make himself stop playing entirely.

“Looks like it doesn’t entirely matter if we do or not." Adrien’s voice is drowsy again. He’s been taking a lot of naps since that last battle, but Marinette can’t blame him. She’s not all that sure where he’s been sleeping between now and then, considering how much he’s been trying to avoid the mansion. If he’d actually gone to any of their classmates she thinks she’d have heard something by now.

She likes knowing where he is a lot better.

"I can stop anytime,” Luka announces, with the air of someone who’s well aware they’re lying.

“No, you can’t,” Kagami tells him anyway.

“No, I can’t,” Luka agrees, laughing. He leans back and looks up at the sky, shading his eyes against the midday sun with one hand. There are clouds about to drift across it, but Luka winces and drops his hand to his guitar again, having looked too soon. “You wouldn’t want me to anyway."

Adrien stirs, resting one hand over his side in a way Marinette recognises as the nervous tic he’s developed to protect Plagg. His eyes crack open and she realises for the first time that he actually had started to fall asleep again.

He’s been taking a lot of naps. She doesn’t think he’s been staying asleep for very long.

(She still hasn’t asked him about his mother. She doesn’t know how to ask. She’s not sure that she should).

Adrien sits up slightly now, one hand hovering over Plagg and the other reaching for Marinette. "What’s our schedule like, anyway?"

Luka cocks an eyebrow at him, ignoring the distant sound of Rose and Juleka making their way onto the deck. "Our what?"

The cloud cover vanishes as the breeze picks up, carrying the scent of salt, but the sun that shines through pales in comparison to Adrien’s answering smile.

#asks and answers #miraculous ladybug #my fanfiction #anonymous #marinette dupain-cheng #adrien agreste #kagami tsurugi #luka couffaine #lukadrigaminette #gabriel agreste's a+ parenting #post reveal #post hawkmoth reveal #post hawkmoth defeat #tomoe tsurugi's a+ parenting #ive gone right back around to liberty!adrien even with kagami here too #also: oh no this is a terrible/wonderful song to let me learn oh no

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redrose-arrow · 5 years

Text

Frozen Fire

I am posting this now because it adds to the depression support post going around. Obviously, @uncanny-accuracy started the petition for me to (re)write this fic a while back, but I never got around to actually finishing it because I wanted to do it justice. Now, I’ve taken a small fraction of my homework time to dedicate to this fic. I have included as many of the Will-post-warmweed headcanons as I could, thus resulting in a much longer fic than I had originally intended. It’s pretty heavy, at some points, and because I’m not familiar with everyone’s limits, I am including a trigger warning for the following: anxiety, depression, selfharm, and suicide. But also: friendship, love, persistence, and the hope for a better future.

He was wearing himself out, desperate and forlorn.

Halt sat watching from under his cowl, thankfully making use of the shadows casted on his face to hide the worry and concern he knew were glistening in his eyes.

It had been three months since their return from Skandia. Two months since they came home. And in those two months, his apprentice had done nothing but practice, practice, practice, and practice.

Halt sighed and shifted the papers in his lap. He was restless. The boy was pushing himself farther than he liked, but so far he had remained unable to stop him.

Will was now almost buckling under the weight of stones that he was carrying through the obstacle run and Halt grimaced. When the apprentice stumbled, then fell, the grey-bearded mentor jumped up. He recognised the symptoms way before Will even knew they were there.

The panic started like a tightening of the chest, as if the muscles were trying not to let another breath in, but instead die. Then the breath came, shallow, lungs unable to move much against the suddenly heavy ribs. And then Will’s mind became as static, thoughts making no sense, replays of horrors never forgotten. But sinking to the ground, limbs giving up on movement, it was no option. Will was small and so the only way to go was up. Up in a tree, higher and higher and higher, up until the tiniest of branches that were out of reach of the tall bullies from Battleschool. Out of reach of the Skandians.

A sigh escaped the mentor’s lips, but it was one of concern rather than annoyance. He glanced up, but the boy was far gone. Barely visible through the densely grown branches of the top, the deep brown eyes gazed into the woods, seeing nothing but the horrors locked inside his mind.

Halt made himself comfortable underneath the tree that Will had chosen to hide in. It would take some minutes, hours maybe, before his apprentice would be ready to come down. Until such time, he would sit there with him, a token of the support he found himself unable to provide. Just sit there. So far, the older Ranger had found nothing that prevented the unexpected episodes of panic and anxiety. Despite the many sleepless nights, the songs, the talks, and the hugs, the attacks had not grown any less frequent. But he would continue to sit here, under the tree, until such time that his apprentice was ready to come down, and never climb back up again.

>>>---------->

[two days later]

The tall figure moved unseen. Even despite the fact that he was riding a horse, the couple was practically invisible from more than a couple of meters away. As soon as the trees widened, however, and they rode into the clearing, the mysterious rider shook his cowl off. His horse neighed a greeting. Two replies came, but the enthusiastic greeting that the Ranger had grown used to stayed put. Gilan frowned but shrugged it off. His visit had been requested, he was no surprise.

What was a surprise, however, was Halt’s greeting.

“Gilan!” the grey Ranger exclaimed. “Thank goodness you’re here.”

Said Ranger raised an eyebrow, but he had learnt not to ask questions. Except for one.

“Where’s Will?”

Halt’s message had been cryptic, to say the least, but had mentioned ‘Will’ combined with ‘not doing well’. The tall Ranger had half and half expected his young friend to be slowly bleeding to death, but so far the cabin and its surroundings seemed rustic and peaceful.

Halt gestured vaguely.

“He’s out in the woods with Tug. I told him I wasn’t comfortable with him going out so far on his own, but the boy’s too stubborn to listen. Why don’t you put Blaze with Abelard and come inside. I’ll pour you some coffee, then we can talk.”

Halt sighed deeply.

“I’m worried about Will. Ever since we’ve been back he’s been pushing his limits, trying to regain was he supposedly lost in Skandia.”

Gilan was confused.

“Isn’t that good, in some ways? He’s moving on-”

But Halt shook his head.

“He’s sixteen, for God’s sake! He shouldn’t have to move on if he isn’t ready.”

“And I take it he isn’t, even though he thinks he is?”

That did earn a nod as reply.

“It’s all just too fresh. Everything’s a trigger at the moment; if he accidentally cuts himself, if a couple of arrows to make it to the target… he shuts down, starts shaking uncontrollably. Couple of times he seeked refuge up in a tree. He hasn’t slept well, hasn’t eaten well. I can sit with him, talk with him, and he’ll nod and agree but a few minutes later he’s at it again. He keeps on pushing.”

“But now Arald has been receiving reports from up north in the fief, about robbers going around pretending they own the place. He’s asked me to put an end to it, but I just don’t dare leave Will alone. I was hoping you’d keep an eye on him while I’m away.”

The story seemed finished, the request openly on the table. But Gilan had a feeling that he hadn’t been told the full story.

“Anything else?” he asked.

There was a hint of hesitation, before Halt answered. He shook his head.

“No.”

But he corrected himself mere moments later.

“Actually, there is. But I’m not going to tell you, on the grounds that he will know if you know and that will… complicate matters. Just… keep an eye on him, okay?”

Gilan nodded.

“Of course.”

But it wasn’t enough for Halt. He grabbed him by the arm and looked him deep in the eyes. This time, the dark eyes were filled with something even more unfamiliar.

Desperation.

The grip on his arm grew tighter.

“I mean it, Gilan. Please keep an eye on him - at all times. I - and you - we - don’t know what he’ll do to himself.”

>>>---------->

“I’m not hungry.”

Gilan frowned. The weight loss was unmissable.

“When did you last eat?” the Ranger asked, concern evident in his voice. But Will didn’t know. His appetite had just gone, like a switch had been flicked. He shifted in his chair, restless. The bags under his eyes seemed to grow darker.

“When did you last sleep a full night?” the Gilan continued, and Will shrugged.

“I’ve… been busy,” he said, “so can I… can I just go now? I still have some practice-”

But Gilan remembered Halt’s words, he remembered what he’d said about the limits pushing and the breakdowns. He wrapped his arms over each other.

“No.”

The brows came together in frustration.

“What do you mean, ‘no’?”

Gilan shrugged.

“I just don’t see any necessity as to why you should go out and practice right now. Why don’t we have a night in? We can play games if you like.”

Will opened his mouth to protest, but shut it again. Instead, he stood up, calmly walked to his room.

And firmly shut the door behind him.

Silence remained.

The tall Ranger paced the room, unsure of what to do. He filled the kettle with water for coffee he had no intention of drinking, kept throwing worried looks to the door that refused to open.

He was almost happy when he heard Will’s voice mumbling something from the other room. But it was closely followed by the heavy thump of a body jumping out of bed. The door was slammed again, open this time, and there stood a bewildered Will, woken up from what Gilan assumed had been a terrifying nightmare. He lightly laid his hand on Will’s shoulder, in an attempt to calm him, but his younger friend flinched. Will moved back, fear evident on his face. Then he turned around. The apprentice ran outside and his friend followed. Gilan called his name, again, and again, but to seemingly no avail.

Then suddenly Will shot around. When he talked, he was spitting out the words. The breakdown came out of nowhere.

“Sometimes I miss it, okay?”

When he saw the shock on Gilan’s face, he continued. He snapped.

“That’s right, I miss it. I miss leaves melting on my tongue as a warm feeling spreads out through me. I miss having something to look forward to every night, even if nothing else mattered. I even miss the coldness because it meant warmth was near.”

He pulled at the basket with practicing knives that Gilan recognised from his own apprenticeship, grabbed a handful. And with every ‘miss’, sent another knife flying down towards the specially designed target in one of the trees lining the forest. Moving his arm back, then forward again, the blade between his fingers, Will threw out all the anger, frustration, and anxious that had been building up inside him.

“I miss being just another ordinary face in the crowd.”

Knife.

“I miss not having to flinch every time someone unexpectedly comes near.”

Knife.

“I miss not trembling every second of every waking hour.”

Knife.

“I miss being able to think about anything without my mind twirling back to that place, sending me into the so-manieth panic attack.”

Knife.

“I miss not feeling ashamed.”

Knife. He sniffed.

“But most of all-” He bowed down to get a hold of more knives.

“I. Miss. Not. Having. To. Care.”

Will’s words were reduced to sobs as he rapidly threw the last six knives, each throw emphasising a single word. All knives hit the tree, but only a few of them ended up in the target.

His trembling and shaking were now out of control and he stood swaying on his legs.

When he turned around and Gilan could see him in the pale moonlight, tears were streaming down his face.

“I’m sorry I’m such a disappointment,” he whispered, words half blocked by the lump in his throat. His limbs missed any form of muscle strength and he fell. Thankfully, Gilan was there to help him, and together they sank to the ground.

Softly Gilan pulled back the fabric, revealing the scars he’d noticed before. The fresh scars. Horizontally, from wrist to elbow. Each deeper than the one before.

“Sometimes, when I’m asleep,” Will stammered, “I know that I’m dreaming, but I can’t seem to wake up. I’m usually subconscious enough to grab one of the knives that’s laying on the nightstand. Cutting myself, it… it wakes me up and makes me realise that I’m no longer there - I’m home now. I find it to be easier to live with the physical pain because… at least I know that will heal.”

Gilan ran his fingers over the scars, his touch warm against the cold skin.

“You’re living the life of a Ranger, Will. A life that is filled with happy peaks, heroic events. But it’s also filled with terror, filled with horrific touches. It’s what you chose for, when Arald offered you the chance to go to battleschool, and again, when Duncan offered you a place in Castle Araluen. And it was the right choice. Because you are a Ranger, Will. I know it, Halt knows it, and Crowley knows it too. They didn’t give you that bronze oak leaf for nothing, you know.”

Will swallowed audibly. When he spoke, there was a lump in his throat.

“What if… what if I said that I’ve thought about how much easier everything would be for everyone if I… if I was dead?”

“Don’t speak like that!” Gilan said. The authority of a full-fledged Ranger sounded in his voice.

“I’m not going to tell you to get over your struggles and simply continue your apprenticeship, because you shouldn’t be expected to after all you’ve gone through the past year. You’re allowed time have troubles, you’re allowed to take more time to get somewhere. But don’t you ever be ashamed of yourself, what you’ve gone through or what you’re struggling with!”

“But it’s not Ranger-like!”

Gilan sighed. He rolled up his own sleeve to reveal a long scar, running down from his shoulder to his elbow.

“It’s not always cutting, sometimes it’s deliberately not dodging the cut,” he explained, gentler now. “We’ve all done that.”

“Everyone?”

Gilan chuckled.

“We’re Rangers, Will, not inhuman. No one said it would be easy. But we’re fighters. We fight evil and sometimes, that evil is inside us. We stumble and we fall, but in the end, we stand back up again.”

They sat together, for a few minutes, in complete silence. Gilan had wrapped his cloak around the boy for comfort. It was still early, and the warmth of the day hadn’t quite disappeared yet. A summer breeze was softly blowing. With it, came the sound of voices.

Will looked up, to see four figures approaching them.

His friends.

Gilan winked.

“Why don’t you get a fire going? You still know how to do that, don’t you?”

The boy smiled through his tears. It was a weak smile. But a smile nonetheless and he sniffed but wiped away the tears with the palm of his hand.

His jaw was set as he waited for his friends, gathering a few wooden sticks that would come in handy.

The five wards sat around the fire, enjoying each other’s company and each expressing their support in a different way. George rubbed his back. Jenny hugged. Horace softly bumped against him on multiple occasions. Alyss looked at him, and any time their eyes met, smiled.

When, at one point, their eyes distantly met over fire, Gilan saw it. It was small and faint, but there really was the hint of a twinkle lingering in the brown eyes.

>>>---------->

[a few months later]

His exams had been pushed back as promised. Now he stood in the middle of the woods surrounding the Gathering grounds, ready to finish off his final exam. He’d done well so far. Overall speaking, his arrows and knives had hit the targets. Not always perfectly in the middle, but close enough to eliminate an opponent. He’d had a short moment of panic during his combined strategy and mapping exam, when his assignment had been to find a location for a group of archers in the midst of war. His mind had flashed back to the battle in Skandia. To his archers, Horace and Evanlyn, as they stood behind the frontline but with the arrows flying around them. He remembered the fear, the blood, the muted thump of a body hitting the ground… But he’d breathed slowly, like Halt had practiced with him, and Crowley had muttered soft phrases of support to keep his mind from swirling back to that place. And so line by line the idea had come together. Now all that there was left was getting to the improvised shelter hidden in the bushes underneath Crowley’s latest hiding point.

Will slowly slipped forward, closely following the movements of the shadows. He brushed a twig to the side, but the twig was covered with a layer of snow and now it all came tumbling down on him.

Will froze. He just stood there, eyes squeezed shut. His breathing grew rapid and he shuddered.

Out of sight for the young apprentice, stood the Halt, Crowley, and Gilan. Halt’s face was grim and set. Crowley knew that his friend was itching to move, ready to dive in and save his apprentice. But if he did, if the mentor interfered with his apprentice’s exam, failure was imminent. The rules were strict.

Gilan glanced sideways, seeking the smallest form of confirmation. The tiny movement of Crowley’s head going up and down was enough. He jumped in. Gilan made sure to keep his footsteps quiet and precise, as not to interrupt the flow of the exam, but he knew Will would hear him approaching. He did so from upfront, and slowly reached out to him. He made sure not to startle him. Nothing unexpected, nothing close to the shoulders, nothing from behind him.

“Will?” he asked softly.

Quietly, the apprentice looked up again. When he opened his eyes, Gilan noticed the silent cry for help.

“Take my hand,” the tall Ranger whispered.

Will did.

“Let’s set out a fake trail now, shall we?”

Gilan led his young friend through the woods. There was no particular direction, just walking, without anyone knowing whereto. Instinctively, Will adjusted his movements to those of the shadows around him. Shaking and cold. But he kept moving forward. Until Gilan let go of his hand and Will - without interruption - moved all the way into the designated area.

Crowley clapped his hands. The exam was over.

Halt dove forward, pushed away branches and twigs until he’d found his apprentice. The boy sat hugging his knees, shaking, tears streaming down his face. The Ranger threw his arms around him, muttering words of comfort.

After a few minutes, Crowley joined them. He went down on his knees and laid a hand on the apprentice’s arm. Again, not his shoulder, not from behind him. They had all made sure to know and avoid the worst triggers.

The Commandant took something shiny from his pocket and held it out to him. Will stared at the necklace. Something within him was too ashamed to reach out to it, as if he didn’t deserve it.

Halt squeezed his shoulders and nudged him forward, urging him to accept. At last, a small shaking hand was raised, palm up.

The Commandant handed him the bronze oak leaf. As soon as the metal touched his hand palm, the shaking stopped.

Crowley knew from experience that the now third-year-apprentice had a long road to walk before he would be able to take on everything that the life of a Ranger brought with him.

He saw what Gilan had seen, months earlier. Except this time, it was stronger. The twinkle in the brown eyes.

If you ever feel like Will in ANY sort of way, don’t be afraid to seek contact, reach out. Like Halt, like Gilan, like Crowley and like Horace and Alyss and Jenny and George and Evanlyn - we’re there for you.

#ranger's apprentice #rangers apprentice

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annakie · 5 years

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We're back for part two! Remember the last time how I said....

And after that game... I parted ways with my friends once again. Because I had tickets... to Critical Role.

Well... not only that, but I was finally meeting @thievinghippo IRL to see it!

CRITICAL ROLE (aka Friday Night)

I took off right after the previous game had ended and headed for the show. My one big frustration was that it took 30 minutes for my Lyft driver to arrive from AROUND THE BLOCK (ok, about a quarter of a mile, but still). In retrospect, I think he was hoping I'd cancel so he could get a bigger fare or something. I think he just fucked himself over because he could have done that route twice in the time it took him to come get me. So I got there with just a few minutes to spare and no time to get in the merch line. But hey, I found Hippo and met a few other people from Tumblr whose names I recognized!

It was so great to finally meet her, but we had almost no time to talk beforehand (but when we did, it was all about how mad we still are about Jaime / Brienne and also I tried to catch her up to what's happening in CR since she's pretty far behind.)

The show was AWESOME. It was so fun to see live! It was particularly awesome when the entire audience sang along with the theme song (See this video if you haven't yet for those of you not there: https://twitter.com/PhoenixHeart815/status/1157446225223962624 ). It reminded me a lot of singing along with the Sparks Nevada theme the last few TAH shows, I got a little misty-eyed.

The bad? It was really really hot in the theater. At intermission I bolted out to the bathroom and buy cold waters. I was about to get in the merch line but the lights already started flashing. SIGH. I gave Hippo a water and before we could settle in much, the show started again. I told her my plan for the end of the show, though.

I will admit, my lack of sleep from the previous two nights was starting to catch up with me, and I had no caffeine available to combat it with. I almost ducked out of the show early because I felt myself nodding off with the heat in the theater masked with the dark of the theater and that the second half of the show was less exciting (but still fun!) than the first. Seeing the show live was amazing!

Just as Matt said they were ending the show there, I hopped out of my chair (I was in an aisle) and went into the lobby. I was dying to get a set of the metal dice... and they were sold out of EVERYTHING except the big blue d20 and some pins. ARGHGHGHGHGH. So I got the d20, and watched the rest of the show including Liam's very surprising win, on the monitors. (I'd voted for Liam because I assumed Sam would win. I was pleasantly surprised at the outcome. :) Though I love Sam to bits.)

Hippo joined me outside in the lobby early, and we left the theater just ahead of everyone else and she waited and we chatted while I called a Lyft. She wanted to get out before traffic got too crazy, too, so she took off. I am VERY MAD I didn't get a pic with the two of us at all. Next year?!

Then of course my Lyft driver didn't come to where I was exactly (literally at the Lyft pickup/dropoff designated location) and I had to walk around and look for him and by the time I found him, he'd gotten boxed in so we had to wait in traffic anyway. Ah well.

At least the freeway was re-opened that night heading back to the airport, and thus, my hotel, for a shorter ride. I ended up not falling asleep til close to 2.

I loved my evening and would do it all again but that Jeremy and Marcus told me that the Starfinder game they played in that night was AH-FUCKING-MAZING and was literally one of their favorite games of their entire lives, both of them. It was a multi-table megagame that had a pass-fail condition and would shape the next season of the Society, and I'm sad I missed it while being really glad I did what I did. Sometimes it's feast or feast, and you gotta pick which awesome meal you want.

I didn’t take many pics, just one as they were settling in after Sam came out in his costume, and one during intermission. It’s all on Twitch, anyway!

SATURDAY

Oh man, for some really dumb reason we'd scheduled our Saturday morning for 8AM... but it was Starfinder!! Uh, I will say I consumed more caffeine on that Saturday than maybe any other day of my life. But it was needed.

What also helped keep me awake that it was FUCKING FREEZING IN THE ROOM. The game itself was an absolute blast, though. It was a brutal slog through a dead planet with hostile aliens everywhere and we had to stealth through, collect information and get out. This was the game I felt the closest to death in all weekend, I'll say that for sure. But we did it!

The very kind Felice(sp?) who was at the table decided she didn't want to carry her hoodie through the dealer hall, where she was going next, and her husband was working the main table at the Pathfinder room, so she told me to leave it there with him when I was done with it. Since our next game was also in the Paizo room, I took her up on this offer and was warm and comfy the next few hours.

Our DM, an Operative, and Felice, plus the Hoodie of Warmth +2.

A very rare picture of me, on the internet, along with the guys.

And our next game was our first Pathfinder 2 game! We were very excited to try out the system, and were put at a table with a father and son duo. Jeremy and Marcus were excited because the DM was the same guy who'd DM'd their Starfinder game while I was at Critical Role.

The only bad thing that happened here was that the El Paso Cielo Vista shooting news broke. I grew up in El Paso, from when I was 12 to 22... it's Middle School through college for me. Even though I've now lived in Dallas twice as long as I lived in El Paso and I haven't been there in like ten years, it's still... a little bit home. So I left the table for a little bit to get on Facebook and make sure my friends there were all okay (they are), and text with my mom to make sure a family member who still lives there is okay (she is, though she took awhile to answer mom so we were worried.) I have a lot of thoughts though, which belong in another post, and I'm still angry and upset about the shooting, even though it didn't affect me personally. But for now, that's the end of talk of that terribleness.

At our table were a father and ~10 y/o son, who I'm cutting out of the pics because posting pics of minors without getting permission is not OK. Also, the game was SHORT. It turns out it was designed as an intro to Pathfinder 2 or maybe even RPGs in general so we knocked it out pretty quick, like 2.5 hours.

One very cool thing that Pazio was doing was that when you played in a game, you got a wooden token that you took up to the prize table, and rolled a d20 + d10. No matter what you rolled, you got a prize, though most of them were cool little boons for your official characters. However, if you critted, you got to pick a physical prize from the table. Well, we played so much that Jeremy and Marcus both critted twice. They ended up getting ALL THREE Token boxes (like cardboard minis, very nice quality) for Starfinder, plus the Starfinder Beginner's Box. Pretty sure those four things together retailed for over $100. Score!

So after the short game, with time to spare before our next game, the gang decided it was Dealer Hall time, literally the first time Jeremy or Marcus had time to go AT ALL. I volunteered to be the stuff-holder. After dropping off Felice's hoodie, I found a comfy seat near an outlet that was near the dealer hall and let everyone dump the stuff they didn't want to carry with me. They came back and left stuff with me, and then after a couple of hours, also brought me dinner from the food trucks. It was a fair trade.

I also asked Jeremy to stop by one particular booth and pick me up a set of dice I'd decided on, Blue Turquiose stone dice from Metallic Dice Games. I took some pics of the dice below, though the next day I did have Jeremy swap out the d20 at the booth because I didn't like how some of the faces looked (by far the angle in the pic is the best side, there was too much solid color on the other sides of the die.) These are going to be my official dice for my 4e character, who is a storm sorcerer reskinned as a druid.

LOVE THESE DICE, can’t wait to roll ‘em.

DM, Dad and blurred-out son.

A blurred-out boy and my guys.

Our final game of the day was the Cypher system, which is made by Monte Cook (one of the original D&D designers). Cypher is a fairly simple system which mostly just uses a d20 and d6, and the DM never rolls dice. The original system was made for a game called Numenera, which we'd played the beginner's box adventure for a few years ago but didn't feel like we got a good feel for the system, so we wanted to give it a go with a DM who knew the system well.

Overall, we enjoyed the game, it definitely wasn't "bad"! But the problem was, we all agreed later, that the module that was being run was the kickoff module for a much longer campaign, there was a huge lore dump near the end and we also didn't really "get" everything that was going on.

It also had the most memorable ending, though. We ended the game by trying to escape from a base while being chased by some guys who greatly outmatched us. My character was a pilot, and we needed to leave via a shuttlecraft. One of the players who we didn't know was on the "get the door open and provide covering fire so everyone else can get to the shuttle" team. And then he needed to make a roll in order to also GTFO and get to the shuttle.

He rolled. Got a 5. There's a mechanic where you can spend a card that you've collected in order to re-roll. So he did that, got a 2. Someone else gave him a card to re-roll. He rolled a 3. Someone else did. He rolled a 5. I was the last one with a card on the table, so I slapped it down. He rolled a 4.

It was amazing. Amazingly terrible rolling.

My pilot already had the craft powered up and was waiting for only him to get on. I sighed, looked the player in the eye and said...

"I'm so sorry, but my character sheet says that I have a personality flaw. I'm impulsive and impatient and have a setback to anything that requires patience, concentration or willpower. I'm not waiting for you." I looked at the DM and said "I decide that he's sacrificing himself to save us, and take off."

So I left him behind.

The player was 100% cool with it, we had a laugh about it, and he agreed it was what my character would have done. So it was kind of a tragic and funny way to end the game. Also Brian needed to get some sleep that night so he hadn't come to that game, and Marcus left a little early to tend to the family, so just Jeremy and I closed out the night.

DM on the left, players I didn’t know in the center, and one on the right. The guy in the bright blue shirt in the center? I killed his character. Sorry not sorry.

SUNDAY

The next morning, sadly, was the last day of GenCon. We only had one game scheduled that morning, our second Pathfinder 2 game. And EVERYONE was gonna be at the game!

I hadn't even SEEN Gwen or Laura the entire con, and when they arrived at just about the same time Jeremy and I did, we joked that we hadn't believed the others were at the convention.

We'd hoped that they'd let us put all 7 people at the table (Kirstyn had left late Saturday night to fly home and be at a concert she was playing in.) They did not. So we split up "Kids" and "Adults".

Sadly, this didn't work out super well for either table. Gwen/Brian/Ally's table had a DM they did not enjoy and also a married couple who actually fought with each other uncomfortably at the table(!!).

We had a good DM, but also an old guy who... I did not like. At all. He talked over the DM, even when the DM was explicitly trying to answer a question we'd asked him, things like rules questions on how game mechanics in PF2 had changed from PF1, since, you know, it was a system that had released THREE DAYS AGO. Also, he was very... helpful... in telling me how skill checks worked and also questioning my decisions on how I was playing my character. (YES, thanks I did consider carefully before casting Sanctuary on myself, and yes, it WAS THE RIGHT CALL. I was the only healer in the party and had gargoyles flanking me, THANKS.)

I literally told the guy (as nicely as possible) "Sir, I've been playing RPGs for over twenty years, I'm well aware of how RPGs work, thank you" the second time he told me how skill checks worked as I was adding up my die roll with my skill modifier and took two seconds to do the math. And sure he'd probably been playing for thirty or more but um... I know how to roll a skill check.

After a short break, I told my friends I might need to leave the table. Instead, Marcus and I switched seats so I wasn't sitting next to him anymore and the DM tried to refocus the game a bit. It helped me at least. I just did my best to ignore the guy. I'm pretty sure he just didn't have the greatest social skills in the world but sometimes my tolerance for people like this can be... low. His brother was also at the table and seemed okay, at least.

The game itself was pretty good, ignoring everything having to do with that guy. After the game the DM thanked me for sticking around and basically empathized that he was getting pretty annoyed, too.

Not the greatest way to end gaming at the con, but hey, it also could have been worse. I took pics of that game but decided not to put pics of someone I didn’t like on the internet.

Gwen, Brian and Ally's game ended like 45 minutes before ours (sadly, much to their relief) and they'd left to do one more run through the vendor hall and then left the con to start their drive home. I had Gwen pick me up a set of dice that... I haven't even seen yet... and they were hella expensive. I'm kinda feeling buyer's remorse about them right now, I didn't need to spend that much on dice this con but... well, we'll see how I feel when I see them in person. If I hate 'em, I'll resell 'em.

All weekend long I'd been texting with my BFF from High School's husband, who is also my friend. He was at the Con as well but doing his own thing and we'd been trying to arrange a meetup. Well, we finally did it! He came and saw me, and we hung out for about 45 minutes, just talking about the con, and old times and what we're doing now and the family etc. etc. So that was great! I was really glad to see him and catch up.

It’s Richard!

After he left because he had to go help tear down the booth he'd been working at, like the day before, I set up "basecamp" in the same place as before. I had thought about going back to the vendor hall where Jeremy, Marcus and Laura were, but I'd already sent Jeremy off to ask him to pick me up the one last thing I wanted (the official GenCon dice tray. I have a Wyrmwood Lacewood dice tray for home use, but wanted a nice travel dice tray. I had a leather one for Kraken, but I'm real unhappy with Kraken Dice now and wanted something else. I don’t plan on buying from them ever again in the future. The official 2019 Gencon tray is very nice, and Jeremy had gotten one the day before, so he picked me up one as well.)

POST-CON

I only had to wait about an hour for the end of the con, and by that time the only ones from our group left were "the adults." So once we were all gathered back up, the four of us headed out and walked a couple of blocks to a restaurant, which we couldn't get into, so we went to the restaurant next door, the Yard House.

Wherein we had comically bad service, but they were very nice about it, and also WE were really nice about it, and ended up getting about half our meal comped. Like our waiter had put in all the drink orders for all his tables to our table, so we had the wrong drinks delivered about five times. We never got water refills. Marcus had half a beer spilled on his leg (not even his beer, just another wrongly brought to our table), Laura's Appetizer-as-entree came out as an appetizer. We asked for more chips for the chips and guac and queso we'd gotten as an app and never got it, etc. Also while the manager was there assuring us we wouldn't have any more drinks brought to our table we didn't ask for... drinks were brought to our table we didn't ask for. It was actually hilarious by that point.

The waiter was brand new (his second day) so we got it. It was just one of those things. But they took care of us, we tipped well, it was all OK.

So that was the end of Gencon. Back at my hotel, which Jeremy and I had long decided we wouldn't stay at again, I'd taken a shower very early Saturday morning after Critical Role. Sunday morning when I showered again, the water still hadn't drained from the tub(!!) but I was in a hurry and just showered in gross cold water at my feet. Then told the front desk.

They hadn't even been in my room all day to even clean up the room at all, much less do anything about the bathtub when I got back to my room Sunday night, so I switched rooms. And then the room next to me had left the alarm clock on, and it went off at 9pm. And my phone in that room didn't work, so I had to go downstairs a second time to get someone to go shut it off. Also the AC in that room never turned off, the controls seemed to do nothing, so it was like 60 degrees in there the entire night. It was actually a relief to leave the hotel the next day. Next year... we'll pay a little more for a bit nicer hotel.

Annnd.. the next morning Jeremy and I got to the airport early enough, flight was full but not delayed, and had no problems getting home. Spent most of the day from getting on the plane to going to sleep that night with a massive migraine so I spent the afternoon at home sleeping and drinking lots of water.. but yay... no con crud!

I miss the con, but being back in my own bed with my kitties is all worth it. Still, I can't wait for Gencon again next year. :D

#gencon #gencon 2019 #critical role #critical role live #starfinder #pathfinder 2 #gaming #tabletop games #annakie's misc stuff

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ferryboatpeak · 5 years

Text

lol i can’t tell if this is a request or an exclamation about what a terrible idea this file name is, but here you go all the same.

the backstory: as someone who enjoys ethically sourced lourry (and uh also the occasion larry blood diamond), i was going to see if i could write a responsible lourry fic. the answer, it turned out, was that i could not. or at least i could not write this particular lourry fic without getting into some larry tropes that are profoundly distasteful to me.

i want the record to show that if this was 2012, this could have been a great fic. i really liked the way everybody slotted into the sytycd universe, and it had a very solid plot, and i wanted the image of louis tomlinson dribbling a soccer ball down the middle of a vegas hotel ballroom floor filled with dancers stretching out. oh well. below is the first bit, which is mostly unrequited zarry. don’t blink or you’ll miss the haylor. i have restrained myself from editing anything, even to fill in gaps or fix things that are now very embarrassing.

Zayn manages to snooze his alarm three times before Harry takes charge.

“Zayn?” The knocking starts out gently, just the back of Harry’s knuckles against the cheap hollow bedroom door. Zayn tucks his knees up and nuzzles the side of his face more decisively into his pillow. “Zayn, I can tell your light’s not on, you’re not even up.”

The knocking intensifies. “Zayn, I’m coming in.”

Zayn rolls onto his stomach and wraps his arms around his pillow as the door creaks open. Harry shakes him by his bare shoulder. “C’mon, get up.”

Zayn makes a pitiful noise intended to emphasize how dark it is outside. He knows he’s going to get up, they’ve worked too hard for him not to, but he’d still like to be convinced. Especially because being convinced means Harry wrapping his arms around him and trying to pull him out of bed.

Zayn puts up token resistance and Harry deposits him on the floor. “I know you’re gonna spend forty-five minutes on your hair before we can leave, so get after it.”

The floor is cold, and Harry’s not wrong about Zayn’s priorities. Zayn casually flips him off and slouches into the bathroom.

Not quite 45 minutes later, Zayn descends the stairs through the dark common room toward the light coming from the kitchen. Harry hands him a piece of peanut butter toast and a paper towel. “C’mon, let’s go.”

“No smoothies today?” Harry’s generous with his morning smoothie ritual, whenever anyone else in the house is awake and in the kitchen for it, which is mostly never. Zayn thought today might be his day. If any day warrants a smoothie, this is it.

“Not gonna run the blender at this hour,” Harry says, and it feels right even though the blender never wakes anybody up anymore. The house is quiet in a whole different way this morning. Three o’clock’s different when you wake up to it than when you fall asleep to it. Even the chirp of the locks on Harry’s battered Honda seems unusually loud on their silent street.

They’re on the freeway in record time, barely a red light in their way. Zayn considers going back to sleep, but looks over at Harry instead.

It ought to feel strange, doing this with Harry instead of anyone else in the crew. Zayn’s been dancing with everyone else for far longer, a couple of them ever since they were kids taking their first hip-hop lessons together. Others are dancers they met through the competition circuit as teenagers, or in college, or when someone’s LA orbit touched their own long enough to synch up.

Not Harry. A year and a half ago, Harry had been nothing but a new roommate. Their rundown house doesn’t have any advantages besides its large, high-ceilinged common room, but for the crew, that’s everything. For four years, Zayn’s led the constant hustle to make rent, cramming seven rent-paying bodies into five bedrooms. The crew’s big enough that there always seems to be someone ready and waiting to move in whenever a spot opens up. But Jaden moved out to live with his girlfriend right when everybody else in the crew happened to be settled elsewhere. So they’d posted on craigslist and hoped for the best.

When Harry came to check out the room, he’d tripped on the stair with the loose piece of carpet. Zayn caught him by the arm and hauled him upstairs, where Harry blinked slowly at the small dim available bedroom. In the kitchen, Harry stood with one hand on his elbow and the other on his chin, inspecting the scuffed countertops and beat-up electric range.

Zayn, meanwhile, inspected Harry, and decided he’d quite like to have Harry’s broad shoulders and cryptic tattoos and messy curls in the bedroom down the hall.

Zayn warned him that the house was a gathering place as much as a residence, that it would feel like more than six roommates most of the time, that he’d have to put up with late-night practices and arguing about choreography and the same song playing over and over so that the crew could perfect a routine.

Harry’d just smiled slow and easy and said, “Sounds like fun.” He’d moved in the next day.

Turned out it wasn’t strange at all to have a roommate who wasn’t part of the crew. Somehow, Harry made himself fit. After a few days of walking through their practices on his way to his room, Harry’d sat down on the stairs and draped his orangutan arms over the railing while he watched them. The next day he asked about a trick, and somebody taught him a move or two. A month later he tagged along for a Saturday of busking and appointed himself the hype man. Somewhere along the way he picked up enough choreography to weave himself into the fabric of the crew.

His integration was helped along by his status as good luck charm. Since he’s been around, the crew gets more money in the hat, more prominent gigs, more hits on their YouTube channel. Harry was the one a producer approached after they performed at a festival last summer, slipping him a business card and giving him an LA smile under blunt blonde bangs and cat eyes. Harry’d assumed she was flirting when she told him about So You Think You Can Dance, but when he emailed the address on the card, she ignored his suggestion about getting a drink and sent back a PDF of audition information. Told him to share it with the rest of the crew.

Harry had texted him. do u know so you thnk you can dance?

yeah so? Zayn had watched the show for years, partly for choreography ideas and partly just because.

what is it

dance show. ?

Harry didn’t answer, but Zayn came home from work that evening to find him curled up on the couch with his laptop, bony feet tucked underneath him. “Heyyyy,” Harry smiled at him, tugging his headphones down. “So I’m watching some So You Think You Can Dance stuff.”

“Yeah? Like what?” Zayn dumped his bag in the corner and slid in next to Harry, pressing into Harry’s shoulder to see what was on the screen. It was a YouTube video of Twitch and Alex Wong. Zayn stayed pressed up next to Harry while the red line along the bottom of the screen ran out the last 30 seconds of the routine, the music echoing faintly from the headphones resting around Harry’s neck. “That one’s a classic. Have you watched Twitch and Cyrus yet?”

Zayn took over the laptop then, and only after a few more greatest hits did he remember to ask about Harry’s sudden interest in the show.

“I think we should try out.” Which was a ridiculous thing to hear from someone who’d been dancing for all of a year, and watching the show for all of twenty minutes. But Harry goes for what he wants, up-front and unashamed about it. Zayn prefers to approach things from the side, like prey, expecting them to run away if they notice he’s interested.

“We who?” Zayn had thought about auditioning over the years, but never cared enough to follow through. It never felt like such a longshot was a good enough reason to get out of bed that early.

“You and me.” Then Harry explained about the email from the producer. “So do you want to?”

Zayn demanded to see the email, and Harry pulled it up on his phone. It was short, professional, and came from a fox.com email address. Everything about it, including the signature block, looked legitimate. Zayn felt a flutter of possibility. It was the closest anyone in the crew had ever come to somethinng official, something big. Figures that it’d come to Harry.

Then he scrolled down to Harry’s come-on, and laughed. “You hit on her, and she asked you to audition?”

Harry shoved him. “Well, I didn’t know! Why would she come up to me for that? Everyone else was right there.”

“Harry, that means you should try out.” Zayn shoved him back. “We were all there, and she chose you. You have to be the one to do it.”

Harry’d set his jaw stubbornly. “I’m not doing it alone.”

“Jesy, then. You already partner her. We could come up with a routine for you.”

“No.” Harry shook his head, and then leaned toward Zayn, eyes locking on his with purpose, with intensity. “I want to do it with you.”

And that was it, that was all Harry had to say. They did a shot of vodka and filled out the audition paperwork, and the next day Zayn was on the phone to his old studio, bartering for a couple of sessions to fine-tune their choreography and clean up some of Harry’s worst amateur habits.

Paul had laughed dubiously when Zayn explained, but after he saw Harry dance, Zayn could tell he got it. Whatever magic Harry has, the thing about him that grabs an audience and won’t let go, Paul saw it too. “You guys might just do this,” he told them after a couple of hours, and Zayn let himself start believing it too.

With Harry around, it seems like anything’s possible. As they slide into an easy parking space on the empty pre-dawn streets, Zayn can’t imagine being here with anybody else.

The queue is already starting to form, but they’re close to the front, behind a clutch of blonde teenage contemporary dancers who look like they’ve been mass-produced by a single Utah studio. They’re all in some variation of rolled sweatpants and shearling-lined boots. In less than fifteen minutes, Harry charms his way into a share of the plaid blanket that three of them have draped over their laps.

Zayn stays standing for a bit, watching as dancers filter toward the theater and join the queue. As the line increases, so does the nervous energy, and so does the number of black-clad producers. They patrol the line, squawking radios clipped to their waists and cameras trailing in their wake. Zayn feels inspected.

When the sun’s up and the line stretches to the end of the block, a producer approaches the front of the line. As she gets closer, Zayn recognizes her as the one who approached Harry at the festival last summer.

Harry pushes his hood back and smiles beatifically up at her, or maybe at the camera by her side. “Taylor! Hello!”

“Harry, glad you made it.” She extends her hand, and Harry clambers awkwardly to his feet to shake it, plaid blanket falling forgotten behind him.

Harry beckons Zayn closer. “This is Zayn, from the crew.”

Taylor gives him a mildly interested smile. “Are you and Harry auditioning together?”

Before he can answer, the Utah blondes are on their feet, edging their sharp elbows into the conversation. Harry introduces them all. Zayn marvels that he can even tell them apart, let alone that he’s learned all their names.

“You all up for dancing a little?” Taylor asks, and the blondes are expanding into a loose circle before she’s even finished her sentence, urging the next few layers of the line forward to join them.

It’s Zayn that Harry drags into the center of the circle with him, though, grinning at him bright as the sun and starting a clownish combination of moves that’s more of an inside joke than a proper routine. Zayn falls into step easily -- it’s always so easy to fall in step with Harry, easy as obeying gravity -- and it’s easy to smile right back at him too. He’s really here, he’s really doing this, and he’s doing it with Harry. Harry drapes an arm over him as they fade back into the circle, ceding the center to a blonde who kicks

The circle breaks up when the cameras swing away, following Taylor toward a dancer in a red tracksuit with an Adidas bag slung over his shoulder. He’s weapon-pretty, compact and dangerous, cheekbones and jawline like a set of throwing knives.

Zayn prefers beauty that’s approachable, arms to wrap around you and hair you can get tangled up in.

“Who’s that?” Harry asks, and Zayn’s heart sinks a little at the note of interest in his voice. Harry likes challenges, things that give up their secrets in response to his patient attention: complicated recipes, Scrabble tiles, breaking down a new piece of choreography. And when the whole world falls in love with you, nothing’s a bigger challenge than a rare person who seems like he won’t.

#hahahahahaha ohhhhhh my god #sytycyd lourry

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astralescent · 7 years

Note

MarthIke for the ship meme!!!!!

send me a ship and i’ll tell you

who hogs the duvet

Ike, much to Marth’s dismay. He just kinda grabs whatever’s within reach in his sleep and builds a nest overnight. Marth just hopes he gets pulled in along the way because there’s no winning a tugging war against Ike.

who texts/rings to check how their day is going

they both do ! I’d say it might be more of a reflex to Ike, he’s generally a little less busy than Marth and the one who has just enough free time to stop and realize he wishes he could see his person that day, which will usually prompt him to text or call. Although it’s also totally something Marth does when he checks the time and knows for sure that Ike is on break or just available to a degree

who’s the most creative when it comes to gifts

I think that would go to Ike; while Marth is the kind to go all out and stress himself into exhaustion to find the perfect gift, it usually ends up something fairly traditional or meaningful but that still stays within the bounds of what can be expected. Ike’s ideas are probably more original.

who gets up first in the morning

Marth ! Almost always has stuff to do in the morning and usually wakes up early anyway. Ike will be up early if he has something going on but he will not be happy about it and if he doesn’t then he’ll just sleep in until he’s downright sick of being in bed

who suggests new things in bed

Probably Ike. Marth has conducted a few experiments of his own but Ike’s the one who’s actually outright suggested things like collars and bondage. Ike has more “exotic” kinks as well I believe so I wouldn’t be surprised if that trend kept going.

who cries at movies

If anyone it’d be Ike, the big softy can’t accept that that one dog had to die

who gives unprompted massages

they both do, actually ! they both gladly get onto the other’s case without them asking for it on a regular basis. Ike knows about Marth’s secret weak spot and is not afraid to use it, especially when he’s around to see how much time Marth spends bent over a desk or with his back too straightened up while in other people’s presence, and Marth has been able to take notice of just how damaging Ike’s training and fighting methods can be to his back and shoulders, so whenever the opportunity shows itself, one of them gives the other a good rubdown.

who fusses over the other when they’re sick

again, both of them. Mostly out of simple care and concern, but Marth also knows Ike rarely becomes ill so he worries twice as much as he should when that happens, whereas Ike knows it was never his family or friends that cared for Marth when he was sick growing up and wants to make up for it now with extra care and affection.

who gets jealous easiest

I think I would say Marth ? It might just be because so far only Ike has been actively coveted by others, but I think it’s also fairly safe to assume Marth is the most insecure and/or possessive of the two.

who has the most embarrassing taste in music

err, neither ? Unless you consider Marth’s especially nerdy appreciation of classical music embarrassing, but he definitely isn’t any kind of embarrassed about it himself. Admittedly I’m not 100% familiar with Ike’s taste in music, I assume he’d be into rock/alternative a lot but maybe he secretly enjoys cheesy pop songs, who knows

who collects something unusual

haha, both of these were brought up a long time ago but I’m glad I get to talk about them publicly. So, regular verse, Marth - modern verse, Ike

Ike travels a lot for his job and as expected, these two miss each other a lot when he’s on the road. To make the wait more bearable, Ike has developed a habit over the years of gathering little somethings during his travels, little tokens of his adventures that he then presents to Marth upon his return. Marth has dedicated a couple of shelves to them in his room and treasures them and the meaning they have.

In modern AU, Marth is a compulsive post-it notes user. He always has some on himself and uses them extensively, to jot down important stuff as well as to scribble little reminders. It’s come to the point where if he has some within reach and a pencil in his hand, he’ll start scribbling down key words about random thoughts he’s having in the moment. One night, he was helping Ike study for a test, and while doing so, started randomly making notes of Ike’s qualities and things he likes about him in general and sticking them to him. Ike kept focusing on his studying for a while and only got to read the notes once he was done. He secretly kept them and put them up on a little board in his room. Marth doesn’t know still, but ever since he’s made a habit of writing down sweet little nothings on post-it notes and giving them to Ike every now and then, slipping them in his lunchbox, under a plate he knows he’ll have to clean up at work, or just when they’re spending quiet time together for whatever reason and he wants to tell him something without breaking the silence. Ike collects them all.

who takes the longest to get ready

Marth. Neither of them take very long but if anyone it would be Marth; he takes more time to bathe because he enjoys it whereas Ike is out as soon as possible; Marth actually puts some minimal thoughts into how he’s gonna dress for the day whereas Ike just grabs whatever stinks less; Marth will take a moment in front of the mirror to clean up his face and tame unruly strands of hair if unruly strands of hair there is whereas Ike doesn’t give a fig. All in all I’d say it takes Marth a good 5 to 15 more minutes getting ready.

who is the most tidy and organised

Marth by a mile. Being organized is a very important principle of his, and he doesn’t see the point in letting clothes and sheets and stuff sprawled on the floor or hanging off furniture it shouldn’t be hanging off of if the idea is to either keep them clean until they’re used or to get them cleaned up at the earliest opportunity. Ike is more of a “I know where I put it, therefore it’s in the right place, wherever that is” kind of person.

who gets most excited about the holidays

I’d say originally it was Ike, but with Marth now being more or less part of his family, he probably is now very much looking forward to holidays as well.

who is the big spoon/little spoon

Ike is big spoon, Marth is little spoon

who gets most competitive when playing games and/or sports

They both do, honestly. They’re both stubborn and competitive; pitting them against each other is basically guaranteeing a never-ending battle or an extreme quantity of salt for whoever the loser turns out to be.

who starts the most arguments

hmmm I wanna say they don’t argue a whole lot, but if anyone probably Marth ? He’s used to reading between the lines, so when he gets very insecure he tends to ignore part of Ike’s bluntness and assume he’s implying things he’s not and such, which can lead to misunderstandings and arguments.

who suggests that they buy a pet

Ike. Doesn’t suggest, begs. Not a pet, multiple pets. All of the pets. And also adopt the litter of stray kittens and rescue all those dogs. All of them.

what couple traditions they have

I don’t think they have any yet, actually ? Aside maybe from honey kisses. Having Ike ingest a lot of honey and then kissing to share the taste is somewhat of a celebratory gesture at this point.

what tv shows they watch together

That’s a very good question, honestly, I don’t know many TV shows at all. The only thing I know Ike watches is like, those nature shows, which sure, Marth would love to watch with him. It’s very calming.

what other couple they hang out with

None, I don’t think ? Nothing that’s been confirmed at this point in time at least. I’d assume they have meals with Merric and Elice on a regular basis after getting married. They’re also still often around the rest of the Greil Mercs, so if anyone gets in a relationship there, that would include them too ? But nothing set in stone yet– that I can think of.

how they spend time together as a couple

Do I really have to answer this ? They do everything together.

who made the first move

It was Ike ! At least in our main verse, we haven’t determined anything in the others. But it was Ike who took a leap of faith and went in for the kiss.

who brings flowers home

Neither, Ike is allergic to flowers.

who is the best cook

they both lack a bit in cooking experience, but I’d say Ike. He cares more about food than Marth and therefore is probably more invested in the making of it and has more flair for it. I am also fairly sure at this point in time that he tries to make a habit of cooking regularly and experiment a bit.

#⌈ ★ soulmate || radiantxhero ⌋#⌈ ★ headcanon ⌋#no proof-reading we die like men

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lalka-laski · 4 years

Text

what is a food that you’d hate to be allergic to?: Cheese. Not sure if cheese allergy is an actual thing or if it’s just an intolerance but you feel me.

what color was the last towel you used?: Pink, of course.

would you prefer to date someone taller, shorter, or the same height as you? Glenn is the same height as me

when was the last time your nose bled? Uh now that I think of it, I don’t think it ever has

how old are you turning this year?: 28 in about a month. Yikes!

what is your favorite thing to snack on while watching a movie?: Popcorn is my favorite snack in general. Whether I’m watching a movie or not. Gah, now I want some...

swimming pool or hot tub?: I don’t mind hot tubs but I definitely prefer a pool. There’s just more to do!

can you swim well? Not really. I mean, I can stay afloat and keep myself alive but that’s about it.

what body part do you wash first in the shower?: My face, if I wore makeup that day. Otherwise, my hair.

who would you allow to read your thoughts for one day? Not a single person.

name your last reason for using a camera? I made homemade hummus & wanted to document it! (Spoiler: it did not taste good). what kind of first impression do you think you make? I think generally people find me to be friendly & warm. I’m approachable, that’s for sure.

where was the last place you fell asleep other than your bed? My couch

what are you excited about? I’m excited for this shift to be over. 2 more hours of hell....

seven days from now, will you be in a relationship? Yep when was the last time you laughed really hard & why? Honestly I can’t remember. I had a rough couple of days.

what are you wearing? A black sweater & black jeggings, both of which are too loose on me now. Score!

what do you want? My anxiety to be cured. Ha, wishful thinking!

did you enjoy your weekend? Today’s Friday and I’m honestly not sure what this weekend will look like.

do you regret anything you’ve done recently? Oh God yes yes yes.

is there anybody you wish you could see? Glenn. 2 more hours till I can hold him. I really need it today.

have you ever kissed anyone with a name that starts with j or m? Mhm

how many people of the opposite sex do you fully trust? A few

do you think you’ll be married in 10 years? Yep I sure do!

have you ever been given roses? Come to think of it, I don’t think so. Glenn always gets me Chrysanthemums, which are my favorite.

do you even like getting flowers? I love them! Especially when it’s out of the blue and not for a specific occasion.

what’s your favorite flowers? Chrysanthemums!

could you go out in public looking like you do now? I am in public so, there ya go!

who’s the first person you texted today? Ryan

would you move to another state to be with the person you loved? Luckily Glenn & I have both agreed that we will never move out of state. We want to stay near our families.

how’s the weather today? It’s pretty muggy. I’m in a nice air conditioned building though, so I’m fine.

what color are your eyes? Greenish

do you like poptarts? I love them! That reminds me, I have a box in my pantry. I’m gonna tear into that when I get home.

where will you be 12 hours from now? Home & hopefully asleep

is it easy for others to make you feel intimidated? Oh, extremely. I have pretty low self-esteem so I assume everyone is better than me and knows it.

do you know what you are going to wear tomorrow? In the morning I’ll wear work clothes & then I have no idea what I’ll throw on when I get home

are you on a desktop or laptop? Desktop

does anyone hate you for no reason? Maybe? I mean, I hope not but I have no clue.

what are you planning to do today? When I get home I’m gonna eat and sleep. Yeah, that about sums it up.

play an instrument? Nope but I wish. would you go back in time if you were given the chance? Right now, yeah. I fucked up yesterday and I’d like to take it back.

have you ever kissed someone whose name starts with an r? Mhm

have you ever passed out? Yeah...

are you easily confused? Oh yeah. I’m constantly confused. I don’t understand shit.

do you think you would make a good wife/husband? I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately. I do think I’m a good partner because I pour my love into people. My issue is that I don’t love myself as deeply as I love Glenn. My self-destruction hurts HIM and I don’t realize that enough.

what’s your favorite kind of ice cream? Creme Brulee. But really, there’s hardly any ice cream flavor I WON’T eat

do you like coffee? I love the taste but I can only drink decaf. Thanks, anxiety!

do you like summer? I love a lot of summer activities (swimming, going to the beach, attending outdoor concerts/festivals), I just can’t stand the heat.

where were you at 8am this morning? Here at work

do you fall for people easily? Sort of.

everything happens for a reason? I try to maintain that attitude but the truth is that there are some really cruel injustices in life.

have you ever dated someone more than once? Yeah. What a mistake that was!

who have you texted in the last 24 hours? Several friends, plus my sister & mom.

what color nail polish is on your toes? Pink, obviously.

do you find members of the preferred sex confusing? I do. None more confusing than myself though.

what are you listening to right now? I have a desk fan blowing on me, so that.

how has the week been? Not good.

what are your biggest turn offs? Ignorance or bigotry of any kind.

favorite shirt to wear? This tee shirt of Glenn’s that I love to sleep in

favorite drink? Lemonade

last person to say ‘i love you’ to you? Glenn

would you kiss the last person you kissed again? I will in about an hour! (This survey is taking me a lot longer than expected, for anyone following along...)

what’s your favorite color gummy bear? Clear are the best. Hands down.

what is the nicest part of the opposite sex’s body? Arms, hands, tummy.

have you ever run into a dishwasher? LOL WHAT

ever had a song sung about/for you? Mhm :)

is there a baby in the room with you right now? There is not. But I work at a fertility clinic & there were several pregnant women in here today so technically there were some babies around? Ha

where do you sing the most, in the car, the shower or other? Just in general, everywhere.

what is your favorite thing that is green? Guacamole

what did your last text message say? It’s too long & personal to type

what is the way to your heart? Understanding my anxiety, calming me and making me feel safe

what do you smell like? All I can smell is the dryer sheet scent lingering on my shirt

what’s in your pocket? I have a St. Dymphna token in my back pocket right now. I carry it around on my super anxious days.

anything in your mouth? Nada

ever hurt yourself playing wii? Ha, surprisingly no. Although it’s not out of the realm of possibility

do you have freckles? Mhm! what’s the last movie you saw in the theater? Toy Story 4, last summer. Woah, it’s been a whole year since I’ve been to a movie theater.

ever jumped/fallen/been pushed in a pool with your clothes on? I’ve jumped in, yes.

are you wearing any clothes that you wore yesterday? Mmm nope.

name a song that you know all the words to: Tons of songs.

what’s the last thing you watched on tv? Scrubs

what can you hear right now? The whirring of my fan

did you feel better or worse or the same yesterday? It’s hard to say. I’ve felt really shitty about my actions yesterday and today

are you close to your siblings? Freakishly close, yeah. My sister is actually stopping by briefly after work today.

do you bite your nails? I have been lately since I don’t have acrylics anymore. God, I can’t wait to get back to the nail salon.

do you like your feet? I don’t dislike them but they’re not like, my favorite.

do you sleep well at night? Sleep isn’t much of a problem for me. Oversleeping is my issue

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