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#its like the last lines of his linked in are a secret new chapter for the husband stitch crafted specifically to kill me
lincolndjarin · 8 months
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Best Kept Secret
chapter ten : lunar interlude : briikase gote'tuur (RE-UPLOAD)
ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ✩ main masterlist ✧
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pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader
rating : 18+ mdni
word count : 4.1k
summary : reader and the mandalorian celebrate a birthday
warnings, etc. : language, angst, p in v sex, smut
A/N : i had to change accounts so this is a re-upload of my ongoing fic bks!!
He’s grateful for the break from you, even if brief. 
That’s not to say that he doesn’t enjoy every moment he gets to be in your presence but the more time he spends with you the harder it gets to remember that this isn’t real. 
Lines are starting to blur and he’s been allowing himself too much leniency in this little fantasy of his. He fetches you a glass of water before returning, catching a glimpse of your personal servant leaving the library.
He’s not a fan of Leodall. 
Not for any particular reason, he’s just odd. For a while he considered it to be jealousy, of another man working in such close proximity to you but that shouldn’t bother him to begin with. 
You’re married. 
He’s not allowed to be jealous of anything. 
Leodall doesn’t seem to be a fan of him either so it doesn’t really matter. But he’s always there. Lingering. Which is something to worry about when you’re trying to keep secrets. So when he sees Leodall fleeing the library rather swiftly with a piece of paper tucked into his palm of course he has to do something about it. 
He could be gentler. He should be. But he’s fully going on instinct when he slams Leo against the wall.
“Whatcha got there?” It’s effortless. To switch back on the hunter instincts, his voice turns that familiar low tone as his fingers easily snatch the paper from the Twi’lek. 
The last thing he needs is this guy delivering some kind of message revealing what the two of you have been doing. 
“Sir… that’s just a few things she asked-” 
He’s already stopped listening. Unfolding the parchment he sees your familiar handwriting.
dinner, skipped lunch bring enough for seconds
cake, simple flavor, maybe vanilla NOT TOO SWEET
candles
wine 
What?
It’s just a list, nothing on it raises any red flags so he hands it back to Leo. Without another word he’s opening the doors to the library and handing you the glass. Watching as you sip at it before holding it out to him.
You always think of him. 
All of this would be so much easier if you were less considerate. 
He shakes his head no and waits to see if you’ll bring up the list but you never do. You’re almost a little too nonchalant all things considered as you pick up your book and resume as if nothing just happened. As if you weren’t just begging him for an orgasm. He takes his usual seat on the chair across from you, keeping his visor trained on you. 
He likes watching you read, when you’re actually reading and not pretending. Your face is always so expressive, telling a story of its own as he watches eagerly. Do you know that he’s smiling under the Beskar? He hopes so. 
You look happier now. He likes knowing that he did that, likes knowing that you crave him as much as he craves you. He had woken up with a desire for you and in a pathetic attempt to seduce you, had made an ass of himself with some over the top compliments and kindnesses. Of course you had seen through that, you were too smart not to. 
Why do you have to be so smart? And kind, and beautiful, and just so you? 
He had been an idiot. Trying to convince himself that a taste of you would satiate him, it only made him need you more. It’s somehow a far more wretched fate. Knowing now just how good you can be and knowing that you’ll never truly be his. 
You have made something new of him. 
He has always had a dominant side, no sense denying that, but with you it’s different. Your presence alone has awakened something new. A carnal, animalistic need to consume whatever you are willing to give him. Everytime he touches you he has to fight the urge to call you his own. 
Because you aren’t. 
He spends the rest of the afternoon reminding himself of that fact. Anytime he lets his mind wander towards a fantasy of anything real he recalls that simple fact. You are married. He is “stress relief” to you, something to take care of your needs, nothing else. And maybe that’s okay, he’d rather have a piece of you than none of you. It would only be unbearable if you felt the same way he did. Wanting more. It’s currently only manageable for him because it’s one sided. 
Maybe he can live like this. 
Pining after you. Always offering you romantic gestures, showing you how you should be treated. And you, going to your weekly dinners with that slob you call a husband, and eventually raising a family with him. 
“I’m getting a little tired… could you escort me back to my chambers?” Your voice breaks through his train of thought. You’ve got that smile that you get when you’re scheming as you stand and make a beeline towards the door. He manages a nod as he follows behind you. 
The castle is nice like this, at sunset. Dark, lamp light flickering on the stone walls. And you, the yellow and orange tint of everything reflecting off that dress. There’s something intoxicating about when you wear green. 
He lets himself truly indulge in his daydreams when you wear it. That you do it for him, like you’re his. 
Would you want to go again before he leaves? Is that why you’ve got that grin? Maker he hopes so, it’s only been a few hours but he would happily service you again. You stop in front of your door and turn to him, there’s a glint of something in your eyes that he can’t place. 
“I have a surprise for you. I need you to wait out here.” 
Gods, he doesn’t deserve you. 
“Then here I will wait.” He would do damn near anything for you if it meant you’d keep that smile on your face. He settles his back against the wall as you disappear into your chambers. 
He’s already half hard at the thought of you still covered in his cum under your dress. Maybe you’ll let him fuck you like that, still marked by him in one of the few ways he can mark you. He doesn’t get a lot of time to wonder because you’re opening the door and ushering him in. Nothing seems different other than your outfit, you’re wearing a tightly closed robe. So far a good sign but he still isn’t sure what to expect as he enters the room, pretty sure he knows where this is going. 
“Okay, this is really cheesy and if you don't want to do it we don’t have too.” You’re nervously fidgeting with the edge of your robe as you say it and he’s getting more confused by the second as you walk over to the closet and hold the door open for him. 
Maybe he doesn’t know where this is going.
He only has to take one look inside to figure it out though. 
He stands in the doorway of your closet and the first thing he’s drawn to is the pile blankets and pillows against the back wall. Have you been sleeping here? He doesn’t wonder for long because his visor is now trained on everything else. You’ve set out dinner. Two plates of food and two mugs of wine are laid out on the floor but the dead giveaway to what this is is the cake in the middle of everything with a way too big candle pressed into the middle of it, the faint light of the flame flickering along with the glow from the singular lamp propped up on one of the dressers. He turns to stare at you almost in disbelief. 
People often think that he is silent for the sake of intimidation. And that was true. 
Until he met you.
With you, oftentimes there are just no words. 
Your face is turning red at the lack of a response as he watches you picking at your nails. 
“It’s stupid, I shouldn’t have done all this… but you said you didn’t keep track of your birthdays and I don’t know, it just made me sort of sad because back home my siblings and I used to always make such a big deal out of birthdays so I thought today could be your birthday. And we can sit back to back so you can eat without me seeing you and if you’re worried about your helmet being off I’ve got a lock on my bedroom door and the closet so no one’s gonna walk in and if that isn’t enough we can turn off the lamp and eat in the dark or I can eat in the bedroom and you can eat in the closet or if this is stupid I can pack up the food for you and you can take it with you and-” You’re babbling on and on anxiously trying to fill the silence and he can’t take it anymore as he wraps his arms around you. 
“Thank you.” He can feel the sigh of relief you let out as you return the embrace. 
It’s the weirdest thing but he can’t remember ever hugging someone. 
Maybe his parents, a long, long time ago. It’s new. He doesn’t want to let you go because he knows that this has drastically changed the dynamic he thought he was building with you. 
You did all this. 
For him.
And he’s so fucked. 
Because this is more than you using him for stress relief. This breaks rules. Rules that you had insisted upon. Maker, he never even cared about the rules. 
He would break every rule if you’d let him. Treat you the way you deserve to be treated, he would show you what a marriage is supposed to be. You’d never have to use him for stress relief because he’d keep you satisfied and happy. Truly happy. He’d even take off the helmet for you. Someday, after making you his and himself yours. He’d kiss you, as much and as often as you’d let him. He would have kissed you that first night you let him touch you if you hadn’t specifically made a point that he couldn’t. He’d give you children if that’s what you wanted. He’d spend every night with you, making sure that you’re never without him, he would let everyone know you were his. Not running off to some pleasure house and humiliating you like that pig of a husband of yours. And he wouldn’t have to change a thing to break that last rule. 
He broke it the first time you spoke to him.
He knows that now. 
He has broken it everyday since because he has loved you as long as he has known you and he had resigned himself to that life. A life where he got brief glimpses of you. You would be everything to him and to you he would just be a protector. 
But then you did this. 
For him.
With this one act of affection you’ve changed everything. 
You’ve ruined everything. 
Because he can’t act like this is just sex for you anymore. You wouldn’t do all this. Not if it was just sex.
He doesn’t want to let go. 
Because in a harrowing turn of events he knows that you have shifted his short lived plans to love you from afar for as long as you’d let him. 
But he isn’t perfect after all. He is just a man. That’s what he tells himself as he takes your hand and pulls you into the closet, closing the door behind the two of you and sitting. 
Back to back.
“I promise not to look.” You sound so happy. Pleased with yourself that this is working out. 
“I know you won’t.” It’s true. He has never felt trust that someone won’t try and look until you and without hesitation he clicks loose the airlock and sets his helmet to the side. 
It’s maybe the most intimate thing he’s done with a person as the two of you eat in silence. He eats quickly, feeling the familiar creeping anxiety that comes from being without his helmet for long periods of time. 
Once he goes to lift it to return it to its rightful place he hears you make a sound of protest. 
“Wait! You have to blow out the candle first and make a wish.” He watches as she slides it towards him. It’s simple, white frosting with a few berries on top of it, the large candle dripping a bit of wax onto the center as he leans down and blows it out before locking his helmet back on. “What did you wish for?” He can feel you leaning back against him as you ask. 
He wishes you hadn’t done this. 
“I can’t tell you. It’s supposed to be a secret.” He’s grateful to be back in the safety of his helmet because the modulator hides the way his voice trembles ever so slightly.
“Okay. Is it okay if I turn around? It’s time for your presents.” 
He should leave.
He should leave and get on the next ship off of this planet but he can’t even do that because he doesn’t trust anyone to protect you from your husband. 
He’s trapped here on this planet just as much as you are.
He should end this right now at the very least. 
But he’s not a good man. And he’s selfish. So why not revel in the dream that you are one last time. 
“You can turn around.” He feels your weight shift as he says it, at the same time he turns to face you. He isn’t sure what to expect but it definitely isn’t what you’re doing. 
You’re holding out one of the plastic lilies you had bought at the market. 
“I didn’t have time to get you anything because I only decided it was your birthday a few hours ago. But I thought you could use this to decorate your cabin, and have a little reminder of me there.” 
This is fucking brutal. 
“Thank you princess.” It rolls off of his tongue so easily that he often forgets he shouldn’t be using it until he’s reminded that it’s a title, not an endearment. He takes it from you before tucking it into a loop on his belt. 
“And of course that isn’t your only present.” You're raising your eyebrows suggestively as you untie your robe, sitting up on your knees you toss it aside and reveal a pretty little green satin set. He isn’t sure what to call it. It’s definitely too racy to be considered pajamas but it’s also rather classy. 
You’re perfect.
And he is a bad man, who should not touch you right now. He should tell you that he can’t do this anymore. That he will solely be here to protect you from now on. It’s what will be best for both of you.
That’s what he tells himself.
But he knows the truth.
He’s weak. 
And you’re perfect. 
“I bought this at the markets… I wanted to surprise you. I planned on saving them for a special occasion but honestly what’s more special than a birthday?” 
He could live a thousand lifetimes and he would never be a good enough man to deserve you.
You are everything good he has ever known all put into one deadly temptation wrapped in a pretty green bow. 
He takes in a deep, shaky breath as he stares at you. The warm glow of the lamp makes you look positively divine. More inviting than anything else ever has been. 
Think about what this means. 
This becomes a thousand times harder if it’s more than just sex to you. And a thousand times more dangerous. If you were to be discovered, Maker only knows what they’d do to you. He knows what would happen to him. They’d make an example out of him, that’s the kind of man Kodo is. But you, he has already seen how unhappy your husband makes you, he can only imagine the torment he would put you through if he discovered what was happening here. 
He needs to do something about this because it’s becoming more complicated by the second but he can’t focus because right now you’re staring at him with that fire he adores in your eyes and you’re wearing that just for him. 
He leans forward to pull you into his lap, still sitting on the floor of the closet. Letting his hands just roam your body for a few moments, watching in awe at how you stare into the visor. 
Like you see him through it, like you know exactly where his eyes are behind the steel. 
Just like everything else tonight, it’s different when he touches you. 
He doesn’t tease because as much as he refuses to think about it. He knows deep beneath the layers of steel, and flesh, and bone, that he might not get a chance to see you like this again. He understands exactly what he needs to do. That for the both of you he needs to put a stop to this short lived love affair because he won’t be able to live with the brand new form of suffering you have introduced. 
Loving him back. 
Maybe you don’t love him today, or tomorrow, or maybe not even for years. But he has a deep and profound understanding of the fact that you will. 
And he can’t live with that. 
And not even for the reason he should. He should want to end it to spare your feelings, to prevent you from getting hurt over something that could never be. No, his reasons are so much more selfish. He simply couldn’t handle it. Knowing that you love him back would ruin him entirely. He couldn’t live with the fact that you wanted him just as badly and as deeply as he wanted you. 
It would fucking kill him. He’s certain of it. To know that’s how you feel and still not have you. 
So he’ll end things. 
But not now. 
Not tonight when you’ve given him this . 
Because he’s selfish and weak. 
And you’re you. 
So he’ll give you every part of him right now. As much as you’re willing to take. 
He can see it in your eyes. That you know that something has changed, but he can’t handle seeing that crease between your brows, not tonight. So he brings his hand between your legs, pulling your undergarments off gently and setting them aside before plunging his fingers into you, devouring the way your body reacts to him, the way your chest heaves and your back arches.. 
He doesn’t speak this time because he doesn’t want to interrupt you in his memories of this. The way he can feel you tense even through the thick material of his gloves as his thumb finds your clit. 
He doesn’t taunt you. 
He does exactly what he knows you want as he curls his fingers, as he drives you towards an orgasm without you having to ask for it because he wants to see it. He wants it branded into his memory. 
It doesn’t take long and pretty quickly you’re trembling in his lap, your hands bracing themselves on his shoulder plates. He keeps his eyes on your face. Positively enamored by the way you bite your lip as you mumble the word “Mando” over and over again. Your eyes look like they’re closed in concentration as he feels you tighten around him and watches as you let your forehead rest on his armor, your mouth opening in a small “O” shape. 
He lifts you up slightly to set you onto what he assumes to be your makeshift bed. He wants to ask about it. There’s a million things he wants to ask you about because he wants to know you better than anyone else ever has. He wants to be the only person who gets to know you.
But he’s already being selfish enough so he doesn’t. Instead he busies himself with making you feel as good as possible as he keeps one hand always splayed on your inner thigh, rubbing lazy circles onto your clit with his thumb as you keen softly, his other hand pulling himself out of his trousers as he wastes no time lining himself up at your welcoming hole. You’re always so ready for him. Your cunt weeps for him as he pushes himself into you slowly, working himself down to the base. 
He knows you know it’s different.
You’re too smart for your own good. He clocks the look of confusion in your eyes immediately when his hands entwined with yours instead of gripping your waist. When he started tenderly moving inside you instead of his usual play for total domination. Your legs wrap themselves around him as he watches your eyes roll back slightly when he snaps his hips forward again. You grind down against him, your legs locking him against you as you try and get a bit of friction against your clit from the curls at the base of his shaft. 
And he lets you.
He doesn’t tease. 
He just watches you with bated breath as you stay like that. Impaled on his cock, chasing your own pleasure. He feels like you were made for him, sex had never in his life felt like this, you took him so perfectly. And then you say those words that make his head spin.
“C-can I cum?” He’d give you anything you asked for at this moment as he nods. He’s fascinated by you as you use him, it only takes a few more moments of watching you grind against him before he feels that familiar squeeze, your hands grip his as you unravel before him. He drinks you in with his eyes before he starts moving his hips again, slowly. 
“Can you give me one more sarad’ika?” He ever so slightly picked up the pace as he watched your chest bounce with each thrust. 
You muddled his brain. Half the time he was with you he couldn’t even remember what language he was speaking. You gave him a meek little nod and he wanted nothing more than to kiss you. 
To tear his helmet off.
Abandon his creed.
And kiss you.
But he’s broken enough rules tonight. 
So instead he settles on resting his helmet against your shoulder as he slams himself into you. Letting out a low throaty groan as he watches your hands wriggle free of his and go between your legs to touch yourself. 
He will never deserve this. 
He reminds himself of that with every thrust and with every beautiful moan you let out. He buries the steel of his helmet in your neck as he mumbles to himself.
“Ner kar’taylir darasuum.”
Your free hand is resting on the back of his helmet and he can feel how close you are, he knows he isn’t going to last much longer so he pulls back so you can hear him clearer.
“Cum for me sarad. Please.” He knows he probably sounds a little too desperate but it works because you do, in an instant your head is leaning back and you pull his head against your chest as he barely slips out of you in time to finish on your swollen clit. 
He lays there longer than he should but you’re warm and inviting and he knows tomorrow will be different. So why not give you everything tonight. He wraps his arms around you in another embrace as you yawn into his shoulder. 
“Happy birthday Mando.” He so fiercely wishes you could see the soft smile that he only has for you. 
“Thank you cyar’ika.” He gently pulls himself off of you and finds a cloth to wipe you down with before re-dressing you. Laying you back down in the pile of blankets he swipes a loose strand of hair behind your ear as he sits up.
“Are you leaving?” For the love of gods. Your voice sounds so small at this moment he almost stays. 
Almost. 
“Yes princess. No sleepovers, remember?” You nod sadly as he traces your jaw with his knuckle. This shouldn’t be so hard. It’s not like he’s never going to see you again. He just isn’t going to see you like this. 
Tomorrow he will be your bodyguard. Nothing else. 
Because you deserve better than this. 
Better than him. 
So he stands and he turns off the lamp as he carefully steps over the remaining birthday supplies before opening the closet door, taking in one last sight of you, faintly illuminated by the lights in the main room.
“Don’t forget your flower…” You mumble it as he watches your eyes flutter open to stare at him. 
He pats the notch on his belt that it’s in.
“How could I?”
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blooming-violets · 11 months
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Creature Like Me || Chapter Four: Hard Truths
[TASM Peter Parker!Werewolf AU]
Summary: Kraven and his guild of hunters have been tracking and quelling the werewolf population for centuries. The time has come for Aylin to complete her first solo hunt to prove herself to the guild. It was supposed to be simple. One wolf, one death, one victory. She never expected to end up with a secret hostage on her hands.
Chapter Four Warnings: some brief suicidal talk and mentions of deceased older brother and father, a lot hate talk towards one group of people (werewolves) but the way its said is meant to replicate the way assholes talk about groups of people different from them throughout all of history - the same “these people are different from me so I hate them” kind of shit
[link to chapter index]
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She woke up to the soft pitter patter of rain bouncing off the camper windshield. 
The peaceful scent of wet, earthy soil wafted in through the crack of the open window beside her. She was surrounded by lush green no matter which way she looked. Raindrops chased each other in jagged lines down the slick glass. For one beautiful, fleeting moment, everything was perfect. 
Until she remembered why she was even here in the first place. 
Aylin stretched her legs the best she could. She had fallen asleep curled up in the passenger seat. She meant to make her way back to the bed eventually but was too tired to complete the short walk. Peter was back outside on the hammock. He said the camper felt too claustrophobic to sleep in. He had been locked up for so long that all he wanted was to see the sky. She could just make out the top of his head through the trees. He didn’t seem to mind being rained on while he slept. 
Last night he had finished off the entirety of her mother’s dolmas and proclaimed they were the best thing he’s ever eaten in his entire life. She had to take his praises with a grain of salt as he hadn’t experienced proper food in over two years, but it was nice to hear him be appreciative of her offerings. They hadn’t spoken much after that. It was late and Aylin was tired. Peter could tell something was bothering her but he kept his questions to himself and quickly retired back to the hammock. They ended their night on civil, friendly terms. She was starting to really enjoy his company the more relaxed he seemed to become. He was starting to lose the terrified, traumatized daze he’d been carrying around with him. There was a slow trust beginning to be built on an already rocky foundation. 
She popped open the passenger door and hopped down. It was a lovely, light rain outside. More of a cooling mist that gently dewed over the top of her dark hair instead of soaking it through. She was still in her attire from the party. Eventually she would have to go back but, today, she thought it would be best to lay low. 
Aylin gave another stretch, followed by a stifled yawn, and then started down towards the pond where she could see Peter laying. He had yet to change out of her gray joggers and was still shirtless despite being given clothes. He seemed comfortable so she didn’t mind. 
The pooling rain glistened over his chest and beaded up on the tip of his nose. His hair was slicked back and wet from having been outside longer than she had. It must have rained harder in the early morning than it was now. He looked healthier than he did yesterday. A little decent food, water, and some rest did wonders for the human body. Not that he was entirely human. She knew werewolves had regenerative abilities that acted far faster than the average person. Soon enough he would be as good as new. 
“Rise and shine, wolfboy!” She called as she ducked past him towards the water’s edge. 
She stood at the dirt bank to admire how peaceful and still everything was. A bullfrog gave a loud, moaning croak and leaped off the rock beside her to hide under the dark waters. A water strider darted effortlessly over the glassy surface, leaving tiny ripples in its wake. Across the way, an elegant doe bent over to quench her thirst. All of nature, living together in a peaceful harmony. Aylin decided right then and there that she didn’t think she wanted to be a hunter. She didn’t want to kill. Her bloodlust was rapidly dwindling. All she wanted was to stand on the edge of a forest pond, the morning rain cooling her sleepy skin, and admire the view. Then again, that was how she had always felt whenever she got lost in the beauty of the forest. It was nothing new. 
Peter shuffled up next to her. He was closer than she was used to. His bare arm brushed against the sleeve of her cardigan while he sluggishly scratched at his beard. 
“Mornin’,” he mumbled, the lingering sleep turning his voice raspy. “What’s the plan for today, boss?” 
Aylin glanced over at him, admiring his features. The soft rays of sunlight struggled to push through the gray clouds to illuminate over him. He got caught in a single beam causing his brown eyes to light up, giving off a warm, glowing appearance. She could get lost in that view if she wasn’t careful. 
“Breakfast,” she stated. “I brought half a sleeve of sesame seed bagels. There’s nothing to put on them, unfortunately. I didn’t really have a lot of time last night to get much. I just grabbed whatever was within reach.” 
Peter gave her a lazy, tired smile, “Bagels sound great. I’d eat anything you gave me. I’ve lost the ability to be picky about food.” Through half closed, sleepy lids, he took in the sight of her. He seemed to get lost in his own thoughts for a minute before he started speaking again,  “The morning sun looks nice in your hair. It softens you. Makes you look less scary.”
She found herself wanting to blush at his statement but kept her face as neutral as she could manage. She wasn’t used to flattery. 
“I’m not scary,” she grumbled. 
He cocked a crooked grin, “You’re a little scary.” 
“If you tell me I should smile more, I’m going to gut punch you.”  
Peter turned his grin out towards the pond, admiring the deer still gracefully grazing along the water's edge. They watched her in silence until an unknown presence spooked her into running back to the safety of the trees.
“The other day,” she kept her attention on the water softly lapping against a nearby rock. “You said that you couldn’t turn into a wolf even if you wanted to. Why is that?” 
He gave a small shrug like it should be obvious, “It takes a lot of energy to shift back and forth. The weaker you are, the harder it is to do. When your body is slowly starving to death and hanging on by a thread, shifting would push you over the edge. I wouldn’t have survived it. I thought about turning many times in that cabin…putting an end to it all…finally getting to rest. I couldn’t ever seem to go through with it, though. I guess I’m not a very strong person. That’s what you’re for. To do what I couldn’t.”
She rolled her eyes, “Glad to have a purpose in your life as your designated killer. And, for the record, choosing to not your kill yourself and keep going is the stronger option. Especially with what you were dealing with. You’re not as weak as you think.” 
Peter smiled, raising his brows up at her, “Is the mighty huntress giving me, a pathetic werewolf, a compliment?”
Aylin huffed, turning her head away from him to hide her smile, “Shut up. It was a fact. Not a compliment.” She spun on her heels and started back to the camper. “Enough talk, wolfboy, it’s breakfast time! Do you want to come inside and eat?”
“...Do I have to? It’s nice out here.” 
She gave a breathless chuckle, “No. We can eat outside. I’ll go get the bagels. Wait here.” 
They laid on opposite ends of the hammock, her feet resting by his shoulders, as they silently ripped apart their food. The bagels were dry and starting to get stale but she didn’t care and neither did Peter. The toes of her boots clapped together happily as she listened to the birds singing away in the trees above them. A faint rainbow had formed in a wide arch over the pond as the sun continued to push away the gray clouds. This was the sort of morning that was meant to be savored. She wanted to bottle it up and keep it with her forever. 
She turned her sights onto Peter as he devoured his bagel with an animalistic hunger. In the light of day, she could see how terrible of a cut she had done to his beard and hair. It was almost laughable. She’d have to attempt a better job in the next few days. 
Although, why should she even bother? What was the point exactly? Her body felt heavy with dread at the thought. There were too many open-ended questions for her to be able to properly relax. Her world felt like it was being tipped on its axis and she was desperately trying to hold onto anything concrete to keep her from tumbling off. Gravity was failing her. She didn’t like not knowing things. She wanted to feel like she had control again. She missed the safety she felt before she went on her solo hunt. 
“How did you get the name Aylin? It’s pretty. I’ve never heard it before,” he asked softly, almost like he was afraid to break their comfortable silence or intrude on her own spiraling thoughts. It was as if he could pick up on her changing moods and wanted to catch her before she fell. 
She picked at the sesame seeds on top of her bagel, flicking a couple off to the curious chipmunk eyeing their food below them. She watched it grab at the treat, stuffing them into its cheek pouches, and scurry up a tree trunk. 
“It was my grandmother’s name. My mom grew up in Turkey. Her mother passed away when she was a teenager and her father decided to move their family to America for better work. I guess her and her mom were really close before she passed. I got to carry on her name when I was born.” 
“Is your father Turkish, too?” He asked. 
Her shoulders tensed at his question and she gave a short shake of her head, replying with a curt answer, “No. He grew up here in the guild.” She didn’t like talking about him much and Peter picked up on her hesitation, abruptly ending his line of questions.  
Everytime she would start to get comfortable and enjoy the moment, death would always find a way back into her thoughts. She found herself becoming irritated. One death would lead to another and then another and another. Soon, the memories of that girl in the cage came crashing through to slap her across the face. She could still hear her piercing screams as she ran away from the crowd. They echoed in her ears like a wailing ghost and left a sour taste in her mouth. She tossed the rest of the bagel onto the ground for the animals to pick at later. Her tightening throat couldn’t handle swallowing any more dry food. 
“How many werewolves do you know?” She asked. She wished she had gotten the girl’s name. She wanted to know more about her. Where did she come from? Who was she? Did she belong to anyone? Someone must be missing her. 
Peter finished politely chewing his bite before speaking.  
“Personally as friends? Not many. Just as people I’ve met? Still not very many. We’re a very elusive sort of people. Why?” He was on his second bagel now. 
She hesitated in asking the next question but her curiosity for information was too strong, “Do you know any younger ones? No older than 18 or 19. A girl. Short, dark hair down to her shoulders. Really green eyes. Tan skin. Very petite and tiny. Ring any bells?” She wasn’t sure what she wanted his answer to be but she just wanted something. 
Peter hesitated, carefully eyeing her, then shook his head, “No. Sorry.  Did…you see someone like that?” There was an underlying tensity to his tone like he was struggling to keep his voice level and light. The voice of someone who was lying or had more to say but was biting their tongue.
Aylin narrowed her eyes, trying to read past his carefully constructed, easy going expression. She didn’t answer his question, sensing that he was holding something back, and tilted her head to stare up at the trees instead. She didn’t like being lied to. 
She wanted to believe that the girl was somehow bad. If she could paint her as something evil then her treatment would be easier to digest. But, in her heart, she knew that wasn’t true. Her people had killed a teenager for simply existing in a way that they didn’t approve of. She was even more scared to think about what had happened to the girl before she was brought out to die. The marks on her body resembled those on Peter’s. Deep, scarring wounds. Fresh cuts. Dried blood and skin painted with bruising. One of Aylin’s own had inflicted that. From the looks of it, the girl had probably been held for a long time. 
They were supposed to hunt the wolves and quickly eliminate them. Not keep them and torture them. This went against everything she had been taught. 
Aylin picked at a stray thread on the sleeve of her cardigan and worked up the courage to ask, “What do the werewolves think of us? Of the Silver Colts, I mean.”
Peter gave an unfavorable snort, “You’re asking me what Lycans think of Kraven the Hunter?” 
Kraven. That was the name Sergei was referred to by his enemies. She’d only heard it said a handful of times. In the guild, they used his proper name, Sergei Kravinoff, as a sign of respect. For some stupid reason, she still felt the need to protect her leader’s honor despite what she was learning about him. It was so deeply ingrained in her that she found Peter’s tone to be far too disrespectful for her liking. 
She gave him a light scowl at his newly found impudent attitude, “Yes and you don’t have to be rude about it.” 
Peter finished off his second bagel, wiping the crumbs from his beard, and taking his time before he brought his eyes up to give her a hard stare. The hammock gently rocked in the breeze as he tried to calculate what kind of information she wanted to hear. When he got nothing off her calloused expression, he let himself unleash years of pent up hatred. 
“How do you think the wolves view Kraven and his cult of assholes? You’re a bunch of violent murders,” His tone was no longer as soft and kind as she was used to. He lost the submissive air about him as anger darkened his features. His muscles tensed and bulged under his skin. 
The way his eyes hardened, losing all their light, and flashed with danger caused her heart rate to spike. For the first time since she met him, she felt like she was getting a glimpse into the wolf lurking under his surface. He showed no signs of backing down. She’d almost forgotten who she was with. Wolves were unpredictable and dangerous. She had let her guard down too quickly around him. 
Her defenses immediately went up and she drew her legs up to her chest, sliding into a sitting position across from him. The once peaceful hammock now felt like an unstable net keeping her from moving quickly, like being a fly trapped in a giant spider web, unable to easily flee her rival. A frown was carved between her brows and she cursed herself for not bringing any weapons out here with her should the situation turn ugly.
Never trust a wolf. 
“We are not a cult!” She spat at him. It was the only thing that she was able to get out as her mind was already calculating all her potential exit strategies. There was a rock not too far from her with a nice pointed edge. It would fit easily in the palm of her hand. She would run for that if she needed a quick weapon. She feared what would happen if Peter decided to turn in such close proximity to her. He wasn't as weak and starving anymore. 
Never befriend a wolf. 
He mimicked her position, tossing the hammock back and forth as he moved, never once taking his sights off her, “But you don’t deny being a murderer?” He looked like he was out for blood. A spider ready to strike. 
“I never said that!” She huffed and masked her growing fear of being this close to him with anger. “You best remember who you’re talking to, mutt. Know your place. We’re not murdering innocent people. We’re killing monsters! We’re a guild of monster hunters.” 
Never listen to a wolf. 
He laughed, a bitter, humorless laugh, “Monster hunters? Is that what Kraven’s brainwashed you to think? Is that what that teenager with short, dark hair and green eyes was to you? A monster? Did killing her make you feel better about yourself? Did it make you feel strong?” 
Aylin’s eyes widened. He knew. 
“Yeah,” he continued, venom dripping with every word, ready to make the killing blow. “I heard her screams last night. They echoed throughout the entire fucking forest. You better hope there were no hikers or stray campers nearby. If my enhanced hearing could hear her five miles out, imagine what someone closer could have heard.” 
Her stomach dropped at the realization. He had known the entire time she was here. She wondered if that’s why he had been crying when she found him. He had heard her people murdering one of his own. He had the upper hand now and they both knew it. 
Never turn your back on a wolf. 
Aylin threw her legs off the side of the hammock and shoved herself to her feet, marching back to the camper, as she ignored every single one of Sergei’s carefully crafted rules. All wolves were the same. Awful, miserable, belligerent creatures with no respect for authority. Disgusting freaks of nature. She saved his pathetic life and this was how he dared speak to her? She hated him, despised his very existence, and wanted him out of her sight. They all deserved to die. Every last one. She ripped open the side door, climbing inside, and slamming it closed behind her.
The silence of the camper muffled against her ears. The forest backdrop faded away. She was breathing heavily as her contempt for Peter slowly sizzled out now that he was out of her direct eyeline. These walls provided her with the illusion of safety. The moment she was behind them, her defenses crumbled. Hot, shameful tears burned her eyes and blurred her vision.  
She was the liar. Even her own thoughts lied. Her hatred of Peter was nothing more than a thinly veiled attempt to hide her own anxiety. She feared returning back to her guild to face the wrath of Sergei and she feared being here with Peter. He was dangerous too, she had to remember that. She saw the way his eyes flashed with hatred when she mentioned her people. He was not her friend. He couldn’t ever be her friend. He was only here because he had nowhere else to go. They were on opposite sides of this invisible war. This could only ever end in death. 
Wolves will lie and manipulate to get what they want. That’s what Sergei had taught them about werewolves but that’s what he had done last night. He lied and manipulated the crowd to spin a more compelling, horrible story of her hunt. Peter was dangerous but so was Sergei. She’d rather take her chances with the wolf. At least she’d know what to expect. It felt like the lesser of two evils this morning. 
Three days ago, she thought she knew everything. Today, she knew nothing.
An overwhelming sadness gripped her. Shame and heartache filled her numbing body. You’re a bunch of violent murders. Any outsider would have watched the events from last night and thought the exact same thing. Savages. That’s what they looked like. She tried not to think about the way the caged girl had looked at her. The hate in her eyes. The terror. Aylin was a killer. A murderer. She may not have murdered that girl but she didn’t do anything to stop it. She ran away like she always did. Even now, she was running away from Peter because he was speaking truths she didn’t want to hear. 
She didn’t hate him. She hated herself. The realization was too much for her to handle. 
Aylin crawled into the bed tucked away in the back of the camper. Her face buried in a pillow as she curled the blankets around her. If she was a murderer then what did that make her father and brother? They hunted more than she had. What about her mother? Was she an accomplice? She made no attempts to stop the events last night. She’d stayed silent while it happened. Her family was supposed to be good. They were good people. They weren’t a cult of killers. They were killing werewolves. Monsters. They were saving people. She couldn’t look at the graves of her father and brother and see them as anything other than heroes. She couldn’t.
Yesterday evening had broken her. She had no idea what Sergei would think of her now or what he would do. She knew she would be punished for disobeying his orders. He would take her act of defiance as an attempt to humiliate him in front of his people. He would not react kindly to her refusal to kill on command. She worried that he would take it out on her mother if she wasn’t there. He had been known to have raging tantrums when things don’t go his way. 
Can a good person do bad things or does that make them a bad person? What if a bad person does something good? Does that equal out the bad? 
Her scale of justice was starting to wobble and she was afraid of what would happen if it ever fell.  
The creak of the door alerted her to the fact that Peter was now inside. He was quieter than she gave him credit for. She couldn’t even hear the sounds of his footsteps. She rolled onto her side away from him. He no longer frightened her. She was more scared of herself than of him. 
“Kraven is not a good man. He’s not a leader you should be following.” 
She could feel the baritone of his voice inside of her own chest. It acted as a comfort despite what he was saying. A part of her believed she could listen to the sound of his voice forever. He sounded more reserved than he had on the hammock like he’d also given himself time for his anger to dissipate.  
“He killed-” Peter paused, unable to finish his thought, changing his direction. “He’s hurt a lot of people. Innocent people. People who had never hurt anyone in their entire lives. You call us mutts, or werewolves, or whatever like it’s the most repulsive, vulgar thing you could ever think of. You treat us like we’re all the same. Like we’re a group of mindless, bloodthirsty animals. When the truth is, that’s who the Silver Colts are. Lycan are not people who want to destroy the world and ruin all of humanity. Most of us just want to live our lives, away from everyone, away from civilization, and be with the people we love. Most of us didn’t ask for this ability. We were born into it. We have families. Friends. People we care about. We are no different than you.” 
Aylin was silent as he spoke. She closed her eyes, letting a single tear sneak through her lashes and slide down her cheek. She still remembered the last time she saw her father and Emir. They were getting ready to go on a hunt with Sergei. Just the three of them. It was supposed to be easy. No one was worried. No one knew that would be the last excursion they went on. No one knew they would leave and never return. She had a family, too. People she cared about. Until she lost them to the wolves.
“You killed my brother. My father. You killed them. Ripped them apart. We didn’t even get to see their bodies; they were so badly mutilated. We didn’t get to say goodbye. My mother was so heartbroken. She lost her first born. Her child was murdered! Her husband was taken from her. She lost her whole world in a single moment. She didn’t speak for an entire year. Do you know how lonely that was? I felt like I lost her, too, during that time. My whole family. Everyone I loved…gone. You say you’re not killers but you killed them. Do you know how earth shattering it is to have the people you love be torn from your life like that?” 
She could feel Peter taking a tentative seat on the edge of the mattress behind her. 
“Yes,” he whispered. She could hear the genuine heartbreak in his voice and knew it was real. She had heard that same sound in her own voice countless times over the last five years. No one could hide that strong of grief. “Yes, I do. And do you know who inflicted that pain on me? Kraven. But I killed your brother and father just as much as you killed the people I love. Don’t blame me for your family's death when I had nothing to do with it. I don’t blame you for my friends dying. I blame Kraven because I watched him do it. I know he is the one responsible. Only him. Kraven is not you, just like I am not the wolf that killed your family. Stop acting like all Lycan are one big hive mind. Everyone is different and, yet, everyone is the same. We all feel pain, Aylin. You’re not special.” 
She took a slow breath, trying to center herself, and rolled over to face him, “Why do you keep calling yourself a Lycan? I haven’t heard that word before.” 
Peter frowned then rolled his eyes, “You hate us so much and you don't even know our real name. Lycanthrope, or Lycans, are what we call people who have the ability to shapeshift into a wolf. Your people created the term werewolf forever ago but that’s usually not what we call ourselves.” 
She let that new information sink in. She wondered how much Sergei knew about werewolves but never told his people. She was beginning to realize that the more he kept them in the dark, the easier it was to feed their hatred of the unknown. The less you know about someone, the easier it is to hate them. 
“If you claim to be so innocent, why do you turn people? Sierra was becoming a successful model in the city and you stole that from her. Now she’s dead.” 
Peter sighed, clearly trying to keep his exasperation at bay, “Once again, it’s the use of the word ‘you’. I did not do that. You are clumping every Lycan together. Just like in life, there are good and bad people. Kat has an agenda which involves growing her pack. She was hunting for the right people to bring in. Sierra had what it would take to be a wolf. She was strong willed and sound of mind. That’s why Kat turned her. She liked her. A lot of her pack were either already born Lycan or asked to join. Sierra was one of the few forced into it. And you’re the reason she’s dead. Not me. Not Kat. You. You pulled the trigger. No one else.” 
Aylin sat up now, her stomach in knots, and rested back against the wall, “Who’s Kat? Is she the alpha? Was she that big, black wolf standing in the street when we drove away?”
Information. That’s what she could handle. The more she knew about the wolves, the more she could form her own opinion. She was desperately trying to grip onto the threads of anything that could lead her back on the right path. She could channel her hate into Kat. That was something it seemed both her and Peter had in common. A neutral ground. 
He nodded and shifted to get more comfortable on the bed, taking note that she was more willing to speak with him now without insulting him. “Yes. Her name is Kateri Deseronto and she leads the pack of wolves who had me. She's tough. She’s got a dried up, hardened, cold heart. Empathy is no longer something she possesses. She’s not…a good person…but her actions are understandable in a sadistic way, I suppose.” 
“What do you mean? What happened? Why did she have you, anyway?” Aylin whispered. She was suddenly very tired and overcome with a pounding headache. She rested her chin on her knees and hugged her arms around her legs. 
His jaw tensed, “I don’t wanna talk ‘bout it.” 
She allowed that answer to slide for now, not wanting to rock the boat any further. She was pleased they were speaking on more civil terms again. She liked him, trusted him, and wanted him to feel the same way. Her hot head often pushed people too far. Damage control was never something she excelled at. 
Aylin let a comfortable silence settle around them. She closed her eyes with a sigh. She wasn't sure why she wanted Peter to like her so badly. It was that same need she had to always be the teacher’s pet growing up. She wanted to be top of her class, the best hunter, the best with a crossbow, the best shooter, the best of the best. She wanted the people she admired to think she was capable and worthy of their attention. 
Peter was a strange entity. She grew up hearing ghost tales about his kind. He was supposed to be a mighty, powerful beast. He was supposed to be so strong that it would take three grown men to overpower him. He was who she grew up fearing and hating…and admiring, she realized. Werewolves, while terrifying, were also magnificent. She used to lay awake at night wondering how an entire wolf fit inside of their bodies. She couldn’t understand how a human could physically transform into something else. They were a mystery that no one around her seemed to want to solve. 
She wanted Peter to like her because she saw him as a worthy opponent. Someone admirable. A foe worth figuring out. A mystery to be unraveled. It was her own ignorance and hate that kept muddling up the playing field. If she could share a hammock with the powerful, elusive werewolf, what else could she be capable of? 
She wanted to win him over just as much as she used to want to win over Sergei and her father. 
“I’m not in a cult, you dick.” 
That made a tiny smile tug at the corner of his lips, “That’s what people who are in a cult always say. Don’t drink the Kool-Aid.”  
Aylin squared off her shoulders in defiance, “We have free will. We’re not worshiping at Sergei’s feet.” Even as she said that, she thought about last night. She would be punished for acting on her free will when she returned.
Peter could see the sinking realization dawn on her face. He could tell some of what he was saying was starting to get through her thick skull and causing her to panic. 
“There were eight people in Kat’s pack,” he offered to save her from drowning in her own self doubt by providing new information. “You killed two of them. They’re all women. I don’t think Kat trusts men. She certainly didn’t trust me.” 
“I trust you.” The sincerity of her confession burst out of her with little warning. The heat of embarrassment creeped up her neck. She wasn’t sure why she said that. She didn’t even know if it was true. Ten minutes ago she was actively searching for the pointiest rock to crack open his skull should she have to. Now, she was openly confessing to finding him trustworthy. 
Peter blinked in surprise. Neither of them had been expecting that response. 
“I mean,” she quickly tried to cover how flustered she was becoming. “As much as I could trust a werewolf.”  
He gave her a soft, sad smile, “Remember your promise, Aylin. When you’re done getting what you need, you know what you need to do. Remember? You promised. I’m counting on it.” 
Kill him. 
She didn’t think she would be able to do it anymore. She didn’t think she had it in her to take anyone else’s life. 
The sickening crunch of Sierra’s severed spine haunted her whenever she closed her eyes. The sound of the gun shot still rang in her ears. The warmth washing over her as blood rained down from the sky. A fragment of Sierra's ripped apart skull bouncing off her own forehead. Fleshy brain matter spewed around them.
What a terrible way to die. Peter was right. The Silver Colts were the monsters lurking in the shadows. She was the monster. 
How was she supposed to kill him when the thought made her stomach churn? How could she look him in those beautiful eyes and pull the trigger?
Why did he want to die so badly anyway? 
“How are your knees healing?” She asked instead of every other question clouding her thoughts. If she thought about death any longer, she might end up crying in front of him, and that was the last thing she wanted. 
Peter rolled up his pants to show that they were still covered with the gauze pads, “I don’t know. I haven’t checked. I get used to the pain so I sometimes forget if I feel it or not.” 
Aylin scooted over and rolled off the bed. She motioned for him to toss his legs over the edge as she knelt on the ground in front of him. Carefully, she peeled back the gauze. The skin was still raw. Spending most of his time on his knees over old, rotting wood had cut away and worn down his skin too deep. They would always be scarred but the wounds were showing signs of heeling. Her thumb brushed over the top of his knee, absentmindedly brushing through his soft leg hair, as she gently observed the healing process. When she was done, she pushed the gauze back over and smoothed out the tape. Next time she came to visit, she would make sure to bring her first aid kit to change the bandages. Her hand lingered on his knee as she turned her attention back up to him.
Peter was staring down at her through sad, longing eyes. He seemed to be holding his breath. An air of intimacy had settled between them and she quickly averted her gaze. She cleared her throat, breaking their strange, little moment of connection, and snatched her hand off of him. 
“I should go,” she stumbled up onto her feet and turned her back to him. “And you should put on some of the clothes that I brought you. See if the shoes fit. You know, in case someone walks by, it’d look more normal if you were properly dressed.” 
She was talking only for the sake of covering for how uncomfortable she felt. 
Peter stood up behind her, he was blushing, and scratching at his beard as a way to fidget with his hands, “Okay. When will you be back?” 
Aylin suddenly spun around, coming face to face with him, “I didn’t kill her.” 
His eyes widened at how close she was, trying to take a step back but was blocked by the bed, “What?”
“That girl you heard screaming last night. I need you to know. I didn’t kill her. It wasn’t me. I…couldn’t do it. I didn’t know she was even going to be there. I don’t know where she came from or how long she had been there. We never had wolves in our town before. Not that I knew of, at least. That’s never happened. It’s not a usual thing that we do. I don’t know what you think happened but I didn’t- it wasn’t- I didn’t do it, alright? I didn’t hurt her.” 
His eyes softened back into their sad, dull state. He gave her a half hearted smile, “Okay.” He didn’t offer her anything else. 
She was still a part of it, though. She still belonged to the group who had killed her. Peter knew it just as much as she did. As long as she associated herself with the Silver Colts, she would not be blameless. 
“I don’t know when I’ll be back. I think I might be in trouble for refusing to kill that girl. Sergei’s not going to be happy. I don’t know when I’ll be able to sneak away again. I’ll leave you my bag. It’s got water bottles and a box of granola bars. You still have whatever is left of the bagels. I saw a blueberry bush down by the pond. You should be okay for a bit. You’ll…still be here when I do come back, right?” She brought her watery gaze up to meet his. There was a twinge of sad, pathetic hope in her voice. They both knew it would be better for him to run while he could. 
“I’ll be here,” he promised her. Again. 
This time she believed him.
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[Chapter Five (p1)]
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When You Least Expect It: Part Twenty
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Jensen Ackles x Musician!Reader
Masterlist - Contains Chapter Links & Wardrobe Collages
A/N: This is it! The Final Chapter. Thank you for taking this VERY long journey and being patient with me as I finished it. I really hope you have enjoyed the story, and the music, along the way.
Spotify Playlist / YouTube Playlist
Series Warnings: Language, Break-Ups, Angst, Fluff, Smut, Mild Violence, Talk of Domestic Abuse
Chapter Warnings: Just Floofy
Series Summary: After a hard breakup, Jensen decides to throw himself into organizing a Music Festival in Austin that is meant to raise money for a few of his most cherished charities and organizations. As he throws himself into planning it, he stumbles upon a spirited, undiscovered performer, who he convinces to come aboard to help plan and coordinate the event with him.
What transpires after that takes both Jensen and his new friend, by surprise. But when their respective pasts come back just before the event kicks off in Austin, they will both have to decide if the unexpected feelings are worth perusing, or if they should just walk away and go on with their lives.
Songs in this chapter: Faithfully by Journey and Boardwalk Angel by Eddie and the Cruisers
Chapter Summary: Its the wedding day.
WC: 8K with Song Lyrics. Song lyrics in bold and italic are not written by me.
“It’s perfect!” Mama June gushed as she zipped up Y/N’s wedding dress. “It’s absolutely perfect! And you, my dear, are positively glowing!”
“Well, that’s because you made it for me,” Y/N smiled in the mirror, watching Mama’s reflection. She felt herself blush at the comment but hoped Mama didn’t notice. “I really couldn’t have imagined a more beautiful dress, June.”
“Oh honey, you’re like my own daughter. No way I could let you have a fairytale wedding in a common dress! Besides, I have a reputation in this town to uphold.”
Y/N looked down at her wedding dress, and softly smiled. She tried to remember how much things had changed since she first met Jensen. Hell, how things had changed just since they got engaged. Stepping back from the mirror, Y/N drew in a slow, shaky breath and found herself feeling a little nervous. Her anxiety had calmed enormously since she finally quit her position with Combustion Records, but that day, of all days, it seemed to be creeping back in. 
Smoothing out the front of her dress, she slowly began tracing the lines of the lace roses Mama June had painstakingly sewed over the last six months. How she was able to finish the dress, Y/N had no idea, but from the moment she told her about the engagement, Mama insisted on making it for her. Y/N turned back to the mirror, and let her eyes follow the simple, yet elegant lines of the deep cut heart-shaped bodice and wondered if Jensen would like it. It was more revealing than she would have chosen, but somehow, it WAS perfect for her. As her hands slowly moved down the dress towards her stomach, she pushed for the briefest moment. A warm glow radiated from there, and she couldn’t help but feel her smile grow. She was glowing, and for damn good reason. But that was a secret she had to keep for now, at least until after the wedding when she could give Jensen his wedding gift.
Y/N was a different woman now than she had been just a couple years before. So much had happened in the two plus years she’d known Jensen, and without a doubt it had forever altered who she was. Because of him, she was confident and proud. She learned how not to take shit from anyone, and yet, still how to love without abandon. They had their fair share of troubles, but somehow, he never left her side. Jensen never once wavered on his feelings for her, and his constant support made her feel like she could do anything.
“Oh, Y/N!”
Y/N turned to see Briana emerge from the bathroom of the luxurious hotel suite Leo had let the ladies use the night before the wedding. Her long blond curls cascaded down her strapless shoulder and perfectly complimented her pale blue bridesmaid dress; her hands over her gaping mouth and eyes wide in sheer joy. “You look BEAUTIFUL!!!”
“Thanks, Bri. So do you!”
“Oh, please. These dresses are gorgeous, but you are radiant! As you should be since it's your wedding day!”
Bri outstretched her arms and pulled Y/N into a tight squeeze. When she pulled back, Bri’s eyes were welling up with tears. 
“Don’t cry now, silly. I’m sure there will be plenty of moments today to warrant tears. You better save ’em.”
“Y/N, I made sure to put on the waterproof mascara because I know I will be bawling all day. Seeing you two take this step, it's just…. Everything!”
“I honestly can’t believe we’re here, and that in less than an hour I will be walking down the aisle and marrying the most amazing man in the world.”
“I never had a doubt,” Mama chimed in. “I knew it from the moment he showed up at our rehearsal, he would ask you to marry him. No man watches a woman like he did you, without falling head over heels in love. I’m tellin’ ya sugar, from that moment, he was hooked.”
Y/N rolled her eyes and turned back to the mirror. “Should I have gone with a veil?”
“Stop changing the subject, woman.” Mama approached her and carefully fixed Y/N’s hair to spray across the open back of the dress. “No, no veil. You don’t need to hide anything about yourself. Let him see you as you walk towards him. And Bri,” she turned from Y/N to face her new friend, “I know you’ll want to see this formidable creature as she walks down the aisle, but I’m telling you, watch Jensen. Just watch his face and you’ll see absolute magic there as he’s watching his bride. That’s how you know this match was always meant to be.”
Bri threw her head back in a loud “Ha!” She clamped her hand on Mama June’s broad shoulder and smiled towards Y/N. “Mama, I knew from the second I saw them together that it was meant to be. It’s just too bad it took these two so long to see it.”
“It may have taken us longer,” Y/N said, “but well worth the wait.”
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Jensen buttoned up his ivory linen shirt, leaving the few buttons below his neck undone. He watched himself in the mirror as he adjusted the collar, then smoothed out the material down towards the linen pants of his suit.
“What? No tie?” Jared scoffed sarcastically as he walked into the Bungalow’s small master bedroom. “Whoa…” his thoughts on Jensen’s wedding attire was interrupted as he noticed the elaborate romantic ambience of the room. “You really went all out!”
Jensen caught Jared’s impressed expression in the reflection of the mirror. “Damn right. Waited for this day long enough, gotta make sure it's a night she won’t forget.”
“I get that, but why here and not at Leo’s huge, fancy, five star hotel? Don’t get me wrong, Jay, this place has charm, but it doesn’t scream honeymoon suite.”
“I thought about that, but this place is special. Not just to Y/N, but to me, too.”
“How so?” Jared asked as he carefully lowered himself on the edge of the bed, doing his best to avoid sitting on the red rose petals elegantly splayed on the comforter in the shape of a heart.
“Hey!” Jensen admonished and quickly fixed a few stray petals. “Careful, man. This took me all morning.”
Jared laughed and raised his hands in relent. “Okay, okay. Sorry, loverboy.”
“This place is special because…” Jensen paused and thought back to the first time he had gone to her bungalow. “Because that first night I spent here with her, I knew I would fall in love with her, Whether I wanted it or not.”
“The first night? Really? That fast, huh…”
Jensen smiled softly to himself and reminisced back to that first night. Somehow, despite all her hesitancy and trust issues, Y/N was vulnerable with him that night. He fought those initial feelings for too long, most times kicking himself for it. Deep down, however, he knew that their journey played out the way it did for a purpose. Y/N was always meant to be his wife, but when they met, neither of them would have been ready for forever.
“Definitely a far cry from that first night,” Jared continued. “I remember when you first saw her at the Beachcomber. If I knew then what I know now, I would have helped you chase after her.”
“At least it all worked out in my favor,” Jensen said and turned back to the mirror. He took one last look at himself and nodded. “Yeah, this’ll do.”
He had never been a guy that was good at the big, grand gestures, but he was pretty proud of how he did with not only his suit, but the room itself. He had asked for Mama’s help and she made sure to get all Y/N’s favorite things. The right chocolates and candles, the old school boombox that now sat on the dresser, with a tape of their wedding song cued up and ready to go. Jensen went and bought all new bedding of deep blue silk sheets and a plush velour comforter that was now decorated with the red rose petals. Hanging from the ceiling were a few strands of white icicle lights that, along with the candles, would give the room a warm, romantic glow. However, the thing he was most excited for, other than Y/N becoming his wife, was the long, narrow wrapped gift box that sat in the middle of the petal-shaped heart on the bed.
Jared followed Jensen’s line of sight, and saw the gift near him on the bed. “And what’s that?” he asked, not without a bit of teasing.
“That, my friend, is our honeymoon itinerary and all the tickets. One thing I told her I really wanted to do was surprise her with a crazy fun honeymoon. I wanted to be sure it was a trip she would never forget.”
“Nice! And where in the world are you going to go, Carmen San Diego?”
Jensen laughed mockingly, and shook his head. “I didn’t want to go anywhere she’s been before. We’ve both traveled so much since we met, but never got to travel together. So, I went big. Gonna start out in Iceland, staying at this awesome little place where the room has a glass dome ceiling and an amazing view of the Northern Lights. Natural hot springs within walking distance and not another soul in sight. From there, four days in Ireland, exploring the Irish countryside on horseback. There are some great local pubs and B’nB’s to check out along the way. After that, we fly back to the U.S. to stay in a cabin in the Rocky Mountains near Estes Park. She’s always wanted to visit the Stanley Hotel, but they were completely booked. So I found this little cabin that has a hot tub outside, and a spectacular view.”
“Damn, you really did go all out! After that? Then what?”
“We come back to Austin and settle into the new place. Still can’t believe we found a house so close to you and Gen. I can’t wait for this trip, but man, its gonna be fucking great to settle in a new house and start making some great memories with y’all. The recording studio is almost finished, too. I am sure she will wanna get in there as soon as we get ba–”
Jensen’s train of thought was derailed by a knock at the front door. They passed a curious glance, and Jared stood up from the bed. 
“I’ll go see who that is. You better get your jacket and shoes, because we gotta get moving down to the beach soon.”
Nodding, Jensen grabbed his pale blue linen jacket from the back of the chair in the corner of the room while Jared went to see who had been knocking. As he adjusted the garment to sit just right, he could hear a woman’s voice cutting through the whole house. Worried something might be wrong with Y/N, he hurried from the room to see who it was. He found Jared standing in the open doorway and the woman in front of him was demanding to be let in.
“What the hell is going on?” Jensen asked just as Jared stepped aside so he could see who was making all the noise. When Jensen saw it was Y/N’s mother, he instantly felt his good mood slip away. “What the fuck are you doing here, Sheila?”
“I came to see my daughter,” she barked and tried to push past Jared to come into the house. “But this giant man won’t let me in.”
“Good, he’s doing his job then. Y/N isn’t here anyway. But I’ll be sure to never tell her you dropped by. Bye now.”
Jared took that as his cue to close the door, but Sheila stopped him by putting one of her heeled shoes in the way.
“No, I am not ready to go yet. If I cannot see my daughter, I would like a word with you then, Mr. Ackles. You’ve got some nerve, you know that? This place should be gone by now and brand new luxury condos in its place!”
“Right,” Jensen smirked. “Guess maybe you should have had all those permits in order before someone swooped in and made sure the deal fell through. But, oops. Guess you’re shit out of luck and can’t line your pockets with ill-gotten money. Because, fuck your daughter’s feelings, right?”
“It’s a damn shack! I was going to split the profits with her!”
“Man, you are a terrible liar!” Jensen laughed and shook his head. “This shack means the world to your daughter, but you couldn’t care less about that.”
“Oh, please,” Sheila snorted, “she’s always been a sentimental sap, just like her father. Never saw the practicality of any situation.”
“And that’s a problem?” Jensen asked as he took a few steps closer to the door until he was standing mere inches from his soon-to-be mother-in-law. “Y/N being a sentimental sap, like her father, is one of the things I love most about her. I’m grateful she’s nothing like you. She’s got a beautiful, big heart, and I know her father would be DAMN proud of the woman she is. All you ever did was bully her–”
“Because she was soft!” Sheila nearly screamed in his face. “That girl is who she is because I was tough on her! I was the one who gave her back bone!
“You were the one who almost got her killed! Because of you, she was a shell of a woman, easily manipulated and abused by that asshole Nathan.”
Sheila rolled her eyes. “She would be dead if it wasn’t for me pushing her.”
“She almost died by the hands of that psychopath you pushed on her! He damn near killed her, Sheila! And where the fuck were you? Huh? Too worried about demolishing her home and getting rich!”
“You had no business interfering with that! How you even pulled it off is beyond me!”
“Jesus, you are worse than Y/N could have ever tried to explain. What kind of mother are you? Mothers are supposed to love and support their children. But you? You couldn’t be bothered. You’re just a goddamn bully. But, never again. Because as long as I am Y/N’s husband, NO ONE will take advantage of her again. Anyone, including you, that ever tries to hurt MY WIFE again, will have to go through me. And trust me, sweetheart, I am NO pushover.”
“Wait, your wife? You’re married?!”
“We will be very soon. And I swear to God, Sheila, if you even think for one second of showing up and ruining it, I will make sure you lose everything else in your life that you hold dear. Consider me trashing your condo contracts as just a start. I will be sure you never have anything more than the shirt on your back if you wreck this day for her.”
Sheila stood in complete silence. She was shocked at how indignant and serious he was staring her down, and worried that if anyone could make good on threats, Jensen Ackles could. Her mouth pinched into a tight frown, and she slowly let the tension out of her crossed arms loosen, so they fell to her side. 
“Fine. I won’t bother her on her wedding day. But trust me when I tell you–”
“Nah, I don’t trust you as far as I could throw you. Now, if you don’t mind, this giant man and I need to get ready so I can go marry the love of my life. And, as awful as a person as you are, I almost feel sorry for you.”
Sheila snorted a laugh. “Why’s that?”
“Because you are going to miss out on seeing your daughter on the happiest day of her life. Me, however, I am the luckiest man alive. Because I will have the most beautiful, talented, loving, funny, creative, and sexiest woman on the planet walking towards me ready to say I do. And nothing,” Jensen inched a little closer and lowered his voice to a commanding growl, “NOTHING and NO ONE is going to take that from me.”
Jensen took a moment and delighted in the bit of fear that crossed Sheila’s face. It was only a fleeting expression, but he caught it. 
“One of these days, she’ll come crawling back. You just wait.” Sheila turned on one heel and began to navigate the sand back towards her car. 
“I’ll take that bet!” Jensen called after her. He wanted to shout so many more things at her, but Jared’s hand on his shoulder took the urge away.
“Let her go, man. That woman is a real piece of work.”
“Dude, you have no idea. I’m almost glad she showed up.”
Jared snorted a laugh. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, because that was the last part of Y/N’s past that needed to be put to rest. She’s about to be my wife and I meant what I said. No one will ever disrespect my wife, again. Especially her own mother.”
“I can’t believe that was Y/N’s mother. How the hell did she turn out so great?”
“She’s just like her dad,” Jensen sighed, and felt a moment of sadness that he would never get the chance to meet the mythical legend that was Y/N’s father. “She got all the best parts of her, from him.”
“I think you had something to do with that, too, Jay. You forget, I’ve known her a long time now as well. She’s always been a spitfire, but since the two of you got together, you’ve both grown into the best versions of yourselves.”
That made Jensen relax, and he felt his genuine smile and good mood return.
“Now,” Jared said, turning Jensen to face him and adjusting the collar of his suit jacket. “It’s time to get your shoes on and get down the beach. Don’t want to leave that woman waiting for you.”
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It was just about dusk as the limo pulled up to the ramp at the North End of the Seaside Boardwalk. Bri, Mama June, and Y/N exited the car and could see the top of the wedding arch down on the beach. Leo called in some help and had that portion of the boardwalk roped off so the ladies could get down to their starting point with no trouble. Y/N could hear the music on the breeze that was playing and could feel the butterflies starting up in her stomach. It wasn’t nerves, exactly, but the anxious excitement of finally starting their lives together as a married couple. She had no idea what the future was going to hold for them, but she couldn’t wait to find out.
“You ladies look amazing!” Leo exclaimed as they reached the top of the boardwalk. 
“Thanks, Leo. And thank you for all you did to make this happen up on the beach. I couldn’t imagine getting married anywhere else.”
“Oh sweetie, it’s my pleasure. You are my only niece and you know I would do anything I could to make this day perfect. I’m so honored you asked me to walk you down the aisle. I—I kinda thought after everything with your mom–”
“Leo, don’t. Today of all days, she is the last thing I want to talk about. Today, I just want to focus on becoming Mrs. Jensen Ackles. I want to eat some amazing food, listen to the band and dance with my husband and all our friends.”
“You?! You wanna dance?! We are gonna get to witness a rare sight!” Leo said with a bellowing laugh. “Today is a special day!”
The musicians down on the beach caught a glimpse of them, and kicked up the music for their cue to start the processional. Leo’s big jovial smile settled into a soft, sentimental one as he offered his elbow to his niece, and began to escort her towards the start of a brand new life.
Jensen stood nervously under the canopy of what cloth, donned with small red and white flowers, along with mini white lights that casted off an elegant glow. Knowing Jared and Robbie were standing up beside him helped a lot. But once the music began to swell, he knew it was time. Looking upwards towards the boardwalk, he saw Mama June, and Bri about ten steps behind her, moving towards the aisle that split the two sides of guests. The sun was slowly setting behind them, leaving streaks of pastels in the sky that made the moment feel even more magical than it already was. 
Then, he saw Y/N. She was still far away, but it didn’t stop his breath from catching in his chest; his heart nearly bursting with love. Bri and Mama reached the aisles, but even as they made their way down to the arch, Jensen’s eyes never left Y/N as she continued to approach. Before he knew it, she was standing in front of him, and looking more beautiful than he could have even imagined she would. He didn’t see any one specific part of her–the hair, the makeup, the dress, or even her delicate beaded sandals–but all of it all at once. All he could do was smile at her as the officiant asked who was presenting the bride to be married. He heard Leo speak up, and he could hear the officiant begin speaking, but he was speechless and barely processed what they were saying. 
Y/N handed off her bouquet to Bri, and Jensen reached for her hands as the ceremony began.
“When we have each other, we have everything,” the minister began, pausing to look at Y/N, then at Jensen. “I believe that when two people are in love with each other, you can see it in their eyes. The way they look at each other, it’s all there. Their eyes are full of admiration, of attraction, and twinkle with undying feelings for each other. Even if they didn’t say a word about it, there’s this invisible thread connecting them two. 
“Today, we are here to celebrate such a love between Jensen and Y/N. They knew it. Time, distance… nothing could separate them. Because they knew. It was right. It was real. Now, they have invited you all to witness their love, along with the exchange of vows and rings, to cement that love in front of their most beloved family and friends. In fact, their connection is so strong, they have written their own special vows in order to solidify their promise before God and all of you, of this amazing bond and lifelong partnership. 
“May I please have the rings…”
Jared reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out an ivory handkerchief, revealing the rings that Jensen and Y/N had chosen. The minister took them carefully, and proceeded.
“Y/N, take this ring, and as you slide this symbol of your vow onto Jensen’s finger, remember the love and promises you speak.”
Y/N took the ring, as Jensen held out his left hand, she let out a nervous breath. 
“My dad used to say, ‘When you least expect it, something amazing will come along. Something even better than you imagined’. I never thought anyone would ever come along for me… to make me smile, laugh and capture my heart as fast as you have. Somewhere in between our text messages, our phone calls, our jokes, our laughter, and even our disagreements, I fell for you. You found parts of me I didn’t know existed and in you, I found a love that I never believed was real. Then all of a sudden, all the love songs were about you, and I found myself never wanting to be away from you. You made me believe in magic, and one by one made dreams come true I never even realized I longed for. 
<slides ring on finger>
You’re my best friend, my partner, and my truest love. I promise to encourage you and inspire you, to love you through good times and bad. I will forever be there to laugh with you, to lift you up when you’re down and to love you unconditionally through all our adventures in life.”
She tried to keep her wits about her, but watching his expression as she spoke, was too much. A few stray tears fell down her cheeks, and once the ring was on Jensen’s finger, he gently reached up to her face and wiped them away.
The minister held out the other ring to Jensen.
“Jensen, as you slide this ring onto Y/N’s finger, remember the love and promises you speak.”
He took the ring, and lovingly took her hand. 
“When I met you, I was in a place where I swore off relationships. I didn’t want to fall in love or need someone. I really didn’t want anything. But then, you appeared and I started wanting everything. You completely changed my perspective on life, and I saw hope in places where I thought it was lost forever. I wish I could explain your eyes, and how the sound of your voice gives me butterflies. How your smile makes my heart skip a beat and how every time I’m with you, I feel so complete. I’m so utterly, seriously, passionately, deliciously in love with you. I cannot imagine my life without you in it, and I never plan on having to. 
<slides ring on finger>
“You’re my best friend, my partner, and my truest love. I promise to encourage you and inspire you, to love you through good times and bad. I will forever be there to laugh with you, to lift you up when you’re down and to love you unconditionally through all our adventures in life.”
Once the ring was placed on her finger, Jensen reached out for her other hand and held them both tightly. Their eyes never once wavered from the others.
“I’ve had the privilege to get to know these two lovebirds over the last few months, and I can honestly say, I’ve never seen a couple so happy and dedicated to each other, as Jensen and Y/N are. With this exchange of rings and vows before God, your friends and your family, it gives me the greatest pleasure to announce you, husband and wife! Jensen, you may kiss your bride!”
Jensen didn’t even wait until the last word, as he pulled Y/N into him and kissed her as if there was not another soul around them. He didn’t care who was watching, or who would think it was too much for a ‘wedding kiss’. It was the first time he would kiss Y/N, as his wife, and he wanted to make it count. Holding her felt different than before, knowing now that they were married and about to embark on a crazy adventure together. He never felt happiness and contentment as he did at that moment, and the way she kissed him back, he guessed she felt the same way. 
When they finally pulled back, he took her cheeks in his hands and looked deeply into her eyes. “We did it, Trix. We finally did it!”
“Damn right, Hollywood. Now you are absolutely stuck with me,” she teased and leaned in to kiss him again. 
The guests stood from their seats and cheered in a roar of applause as they watched the happy couple link arms, and make their way back down the aisle and up towards the boardwalk to take a slew of pictures while the guests made their way down the beach to the reception set up.
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By the time they were heading back to the reception, neither Jensen nor Y/N had stopped smiling. It had been a magical ceremony between the sunsetting on one side, and the crashing of the ocean waves on the other. The heavy smell of the salt air just added that extra special touch, and both of them found it almost intoxicating. The closer they grew to the reception, the more Y/N was noticing how beautiful everything looked in the late dusky evening. 
A small stage had been set up for Louden Swain to play, along with a dance floor laid out on the sand for the guests to enjoy the music. The tables, all donned with ivory linens and pale blue flowers, with white candles were set up along the perimeter of the dance floor. Even the slow glow of the fluorescent pink and blue cornhole games off to the site of the reception added to the ambient glow of the beach reception.
“I can’t believe we did the corn hole boards,” Y/N laughed, shaking her head.
“Trust me, after a few drinks, you’re gonna love it.”
“I don’t need any drinks, Jay, I am already in love with all of this. Almost as much as I’m in love with you.”
Jensen pulled her to a stop just before they stepped into the reception area. He had to kiss her again, and couldn’t imagine the day would come where he wouldn’t want to just stop everything and kiss her. 
“Hey, c’mon you two, let’s get this party started!” Robbie’s voice boomed through the mic up on the stage. “Everyone on your feet to welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Jensen Acklesssssss!”
Jensen and Y/N kept their hands together, and raised them in the air triumphantly as they made their way through the maze of tables and onto the dance floor just as Robbie led Louden Swain into their rendition of “Faithfully” by Journey for them to have their first dance.
Y/N once again passed off her bouquet to Bri, and Jensen swept her up in his arms, then slowly moved her along the dance floor. They were so close, there was not a millimeter of space between them, and as Robbie began singing the lyrics of their perfectly chosen wedding song, Jensen sang along with his lips pressed close to her ear.
“Highway run
Into the midnight sun
Wheels go round and round
You're on my mind
Restless hearts
Sleep alone tonight
Sendin' all my love
Along the wire
They say that the road ain't no place to start a family
Right down the line, it's been you and me
And lovin' a music man ain't always what it's supposed to be
Oh, girl, you stand by me
I'm forever yours
Faithfully”
Y/N could feel her chest fill with so much love as his smooth, rich voice filled her ear, which only made her want to draw him somehow closer. As Robbie began the next verse on the stage, she took her turn to sing along softly, as she touched her forehead to Jensen’s and looked deep into his shining green eyes. 
“Circus life
Under the big top world
We all need the clowns
To make us smile
Through space and time
Always another show
Wonderin' where I am
Lost without you
And being apart ain't easy on this love affair
Two strangers learn to fall in love again
I get the joy of rediscovering you
Oh, babe, you stand by me
I'm forever yours
Faithfully”
They let Robbie belt out the rest of the song, and just held each other close, shutting out the world around them. As the band finished up the song, Jensen once again held up their hands in victory as their friends and families clapped, and cheered the couple on.
“Wait right here, Trix.” Jensen's sly smile made those butterflies kick up again. He looked over to Jared and gave him a nod, as Jensen kissed the back of her hand before leaving her side and heading up onto the stage. 
Once at the mic, he got a slight bit of feedback, then drew in a deep breath. “First off, I want to thank everyone for coming tonight to share this with us. It means the world to my wife and I that you traveled from all over, to this quaint little town that is very special to us. See, I met this beautiful woman on this very beach almost three years ago. From the get go, she couldn’t stand me. She thought I was arrogant, and pushy, but somehow never told me to get lost. I guess my charm and dad jokes were too much to resist.”
Y/N felt Jared come up next to her and reach out to take her hand. Confused, but excited at what was happening, she went along with him as he led her up onto the stage. 
“See, something about this place… this beach and this boardwalk… the magic of it got into me. Hell, both of us. And no matter what was gonna happen, that night I knew, I had found my wife.” Jensen paused and watched as Y/N was brought up to the stage. He turned to Robbie, gave another little nod, and the band began to play. As the music started, Jensen kept talking.
“I never in my life imagined I would meet someone like you. I heard this song not long after we met for the first time. And every word, every beat, made me think of you. When you agreed to marry me, I knew I had to sing this to you. Because you are an angel. You captivated me that night Trix, my ‘Boardwalk Angel…’”
When he began to sing the song, Y/N felt her knees go weak and heart begin to pound. She thought she had loved him with every ounce of her being before, but now, somehow, she loved him even more.
“Little girl, tonight baby don't feel blue
They lit those party lights along the avenue
You're out there on your own,
Spending all your time alone
So come on girl, tonight I want to be with you
This world has let you down till it broke your heart
But tonight's the night for a brand new start
We'll leave this world behind
When we're walking on down the line
So come on girl, let's make our dream come true
So meet me out on the boardwalk tonight
Meet me down by the sea
We can dance 'neath the carnival lights
On the shore of Jersey
We'll fall in love on a carousel
Little boardwalk angel…”
As the band played the musical interlude, Jensen grabbed her on a whim and twirled her around. Making her laugh then leaned down and kissed her sweetly before the next verse.
“So meet me out on the boardwalk tonight
Meet me down by the sea
We can dance ‘neath the carnival lights
On the shore of Jersey
We'll fall in love on a carousel
Little boardwalk angel…”
Jensen took her again, and this time, didn’t let her go until the song was over. It was his love letter to her, the perfect song he could give to his new wife, his Boardwalk Angel. From far down the beach beyond the stage, fireworks were shot up into the air, causing all of the guests, and Y/N, to Ooo and Ahh. When she looked back at Jensen, his eyes were firmly fixed on her. 
“Jensen, this is… everything” her eyes were wide with exuberance and love, and it was her turn to be speechless. 
“YOU are my everything. Trix. Don’t ever forget that.”
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The rest of the reception went off without a hitch, though somewhere deep inside Jensen couldn’t help but worry that Sheila wouldn’t keep her word, and she would suddenly appear. Luckily, they enjoyed every second of it with no problems, no unexpected guests… no drama. For the first day of their lives of husband and wife, it couldn’t have been more perfect. 
As they finished their meal of boardwalk fare food, Jensen and Y/N were caught off guard by a collective clinking of glasses. They took the opportunity to lean in for a kiss, before they heard Jared’s voice come through the mic on the stage.
“Ok, ok, I think we all have seen more than enough of you two lip-locked. I mean, get a room, man. There’s kids here!” A ripple of laughter went through the guests, just making them clink the glasses again. Jared waited for his best friend to kiss the bride one more time before continuing his speech.
“When Jensen told me he was getting married, and asked me to be his best man, I knew I would have to give some kind of speech. After a few drafts filled with shots at him, ya know, just cause, I realized that I really did want to say something more meaningful. I, however, am not a writer or a poet. So I tried to find something that really resonated with me when I thought of my best friend and the woman he loves. Luckily, my beautiful wife and I came across a poem written by N.R. Hart called, ‘Unexpected’, and as I read it, I knew this was it.”
Jared cleared his throat and pulled a folded piece of paper from the pocket of his pants. He drew in a deep breath and looked over towards the happy couple. 
‘She’s the girl you never saw coming. The unexpected one who calms you, centers you, and still she turns out to be the surprise love of your life. She’s your best friend, lover, and soulmate all wrapped up in the prettiest package. She is unforgettable, she is like no one, which is why you are addicted to her; her mind, her soul. You can’t get her out of your system. You taste her and she runs through you like blood and fire. She never leaves you no matter what, because she too, knows how rare the connection is. You have never had anyone stick by you like that before. She is the safest place you have ever known. You are soft for her no matter how hard life gets, she is there and your feelings never change. She loves you fiercely and you feel her love deep in your bones; in your soul. She is the one who makes you feel whole in a way you never have before and that terrifies you. But what terrifies you even more… is losing her.’
“I was there when you first saw her, and I’ve been there to watch the two of you fall in love, and be petrified of it in your own ways. I’ve seen you get through some very hard times, and make some incredible memories. In all that time, what I saw most was how perfectly fitted you are for each other. Yes, Y/N was an unexpected surprise in Jensen’s life, but so was he in hers. So, let’s raise our glasses, to the most perfectly paired, yet unexpected couple I’ve ever known… Jensen and Y/N Ackles! I wish you all the beauty and magic the world has to offer, and I am excited to be there, to keep witnessing it all! Salute!”
The sun had finally set, leaving the stars to make their appearance in the night sky. The reception was still in full swing, but both Jensen and Y/N knew it was time to take their leave. They had made the rounds to all the tables, talked to every guest and thanked them for being a part of such an amazing day. While the party had been a great time, all Jensen could think about was getting his wife back to their bungalow. He was anxious to give her the honeymoon gift, then help her get out of the dress and take her to bed. They had been together intimately so many times in the past, but tonight would be different. Tonight, it would be as man and wife; something they had both wanted for a very long time. 
There was a moment where no one was really paying attention to the bride and groom, so they thought they would take the chance, and start walking down the beach towards the Bungalow. 
“Think we could make a run for it without anyone noticing?” Jensen whispered in her ear, leaving a little nip of a kiss on her earlobe.
“Oh,” she mewed and leaned into him, suddenly wanting nothing more than to be alone with her husband, “I think so… But, I need to grab something from Bri, first.”
Jensen pouted a little. “If you do that now, she’s gonna stop us.”
“No, she won’t. I already told her this morning we may sneak off towards the end of the party.”
“Good thinkin’, Trix. Ok, go do what you gotta, and hurry back. I need to have you, now.” The last word was more of a growl, which sent a bolt of luscious goosebumps down her whole body.
Biting her lower lip in anticipation of what was to come, she gave him a quick nod and went off to find Briana. Her bridesmaid and best friend was over near the cornhole boards throwing bags with Robbie. 
“Hey Bri!” Y/N said as she approached. “It’s that time.” The knowing tone and wink prompted Briana to reach between her cleavage and withdraw a small wooden box. 
“That’s where you kept it?” Y/N asked, unable to hold back a laugh. 
“Well, not like this dress has pockets! Don’t get me wrong, they were a gorgeous choice, but… pockets!”
“Fair enough,” Y/N said as she took the small wooden box. 
Looking over at Robbie, who was watching with confused curiosity, she smiled his way. “Robert… I cannot thank you enough for everything you have done. Not just for tonight, but for Jensen and I. Thank you for becoming such a big part of my life, and being the big brother I never really had.” 
Y/N hadn’t planned on getting mushy with Robbie, but the emotional high of the day made it difficult to hold anything back. “When my dad died, and my actual brother became a memory, I never thought I’d have a real family again. But, you, Bri… all of you, have done more for me and loved me harder, than anyone has. I don’t know where I’d be without you.”
Her words left Robbie speechless. He had been one of the few at the wedding that had been able to keep a dry eye, until now. 
“Awe, kiddo, I don’t know what to say other than, I love you to bits. You may be Jensen’s wife now, but you’ll always be so damn special to me. I will never, ever, not be here for you.” Robbie dropped the game bags and gave Y/N a tight embrace.
“Alright mister, let the girl go. Her and her man have some business to attend to,” Bri said as she tried to pry them apart. “Go, quick, before you get roped into another emotional filled mess!”
Y/N laughed and blew them both a kiss. “I really do love you both. And you both better come and visit us in Austin when we finally move into the new house.”
“Please, like you could stop me. I just hope somewhere in that mansion y’all bought there will be a studio.”
“Of course there will be… and there’s no one I want more in that producer’s chair, than you.”
With one last wave, Y/N took her small wooden box and headed down towards the ocean where Jensen stood, hands in his pockets and looking out over the waves at the reflection of the full moon on the water.
“Ok, let’s go!” Y/N said, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the bungalow.
Once they had the party far in the rearview, and the world was quiet around them, Y/N stopped Jensen from going any further.
“I know you wanted to surprise me with the honeymoon. Which, I cannot wait to go, wherever we’re going. But this… this is my gift to you.” Y/N held out the box with a shaky hand, only able to see his expression because of the bright summer moon.
Jensen didn’t say a word, but gently took the box and held it up so he could see the inscription on the top of the mahganony box. It was a simple “A” carved on the top of the box, which made him smile.
“Open it,” she prompted, and could feel that earlier bout of nerves starting to bubble up.
Jensen found a swing latch and moved the cover off to the side. Again, using the light of the moon, he found what was inside and pulled out a glossy, mahogany guitar pick. He let his finger tips brush along its smooth surface, but paused when he felt more engraving on the back side. He read what was inscribed there and his jaw fell open. His eyes finding hers in the moonlight above.
“Are you serious?” he asked, then swallowed thickly, looking at the pick again. 
Inscribed on the one side, it said “#1 Dad”.
“Are you? I mean, is this for future hope or…?” Jensen stuttered, unsure of what to say, or what it meant.
“Yes, for the future, but also, yes, I’m serious. I found out a week ago… I’m pregnant. And so far, everything is absolutely perfect.” 
“But, the doc said…”
“I know, but he was wrong, because… well, I am,” she laughed. 
This time it was Jensen who couldn’t hold back the emotion that was about to burst from the seams. Still holding the box and the pick, he grabbed her around her waist and lifted her up into a tight embrace. He planted a kiss on her that rivaled the one at their ceremony hours earlier.
“Trix… I just… I didn’t think this could happen!”
“Me either,” she replied, wiping a stray tear from his cheek. “I just hope this doesn’t hurt the plans you made for the honeymoon.” Her mischievous smile made him laugh. 
“No… well… a little. But that’s okay, because holy shit we’re gonna have a baby!!” He spun her around again, then gently put her down before turning towards the ocean. “We are having a BABY!”
From close by a little further down the beach, the familiar sounds of Frank Sinatra were carried on the breeze. “That’s Life”, one of her favorites, began to hit their ears and it couldn’t have been more perfect timing. 
“Married, an amazing honeymoon, a new house, a new adventure together in making music, and now, a new baby…” Jensen mused, unable to wipe the grin from his face. “Baby, you have given me so damn much, how could I ever repay you…”
“Love me, Jensen. And don’t ever stop.”
Jensen carefully put the guitar pick back in the box, closed the lid and placed it back in his pocket. Without warning, he swept her up off her feet and carried her back to the bungalow. Just as they got to the front door, he placed her back on her own feet. He went to open the door, but hesitated for a brief moment.
“I don’t think I could ever stop loving you, even if I tried.”
“You better, because I love you with every bit of me, and so does she.” Y/N rested her hand against the bottom of her belly.
“Her? You know that for sure?”
“No, just a gut instinct,” she said with a smile. “And I know I haven’t trusted my instincts in the past. But because of you, now I can. Because of you, I have hope and faith that anything is possible.”
“I really did fall in love with you that first night.”
Y/N smiled softly, and lovingly caressed the side of his face. “I know, I fell in love with you then, too. It’s why I told you that story about my Dad and Joy to the World. I knew then somewhere deep inside me that somehow, someday, we would be here.”
“It's you and me, Trix. You and me against the world,” he smiled and leaned in to kiss her.
Y/N reached out for his hand and rested it on her slightly swollen belly. “Us… it's us against the world, Hollywood.”
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phanfictioncatalogue · 7 months
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In Progress Chaptered Fics (8) Masterlist
Links Last Checked: January 23rd, 2024
part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, part six, part seven
In progress as of 09/10/2023
A Modern-Day Meet Cute (ao3) - auroraphilealis (peachrayne), peachrayne
Summary: Finding someone to date in the 21st century was hard. You’d think the internet would have helped things along, but Phil wasn’t completely sold on the idea of a dating app. Until he downloaded one and met Dan.
anywhere but here (ao3) - irrationalqueer
Summary: Dan’s a first year; he just appeared, one day, loud in one of Phil’s discussion groups. He has interesting things to say, talks like he has every right to be there. He’s also stupidly hot and funny and confident in a way that Phil definitely wasn’t at 19; how was Phil supposed to stop himself from instantly crushing on him?
Broke, Gay and New in Town (ao3) - natigail
Summary: Dan Howell was in dire need for a change - he hated his job and his life and he just felt stuck. His grandfather's letter was a blessing that came with an incredible gift: A farm. Dan had no idea how to run a farm but he was willing to give it a try.
He arrived in Stardew Valley with few expectations but even so, he could never have imagined he would encounter magic, otherworldly creatures, corporate conspiracies, so many queer villagers, a secret destiny and right at the centre of it all the love of his life.
Capeacetic (ao3) - sierraadeux
Summary: Just a man, his lighthouse, and the ridiculous tourist he told not to come.
cleo (ao3) - bloodyscarab
Summary: i'm the ruler of the world,
better catch it all on camera.
phil wants to start drag, and dan wants a break from it.
cleo by shygirl
Et in Arcadia Ego (ao3) - fallentales
Summary: A man whose life is consumed by its own ending, and another desperately trying to escape the same descent. When haunted pasts collide with inevitable futures, what do they have left of themselves? And just how different really are the roles these two play?
Home for Christmas 2 (ao3) - dizzy
Summary: Dan's leaving his newfound home away from home with the Lesters (and Phil) for the rude awakening of Christmas with his actual family.
i'm losing myself in you (and you, and you) (ao3) - sunflowerwitches (orphan_account)
Summary: the fic where dan is aspec and is scared of relationships because he isnt sure where he fits and phil doesn't understand why dan thinks anyone would be upset by that if it means they get to call dan their boyfriend.
Of wedding venues and cliffside views (ao3) - Tarredion
Summary: Phil brings a plus one to a family wedding - his fiancé
Poker Face (ao3) - americanphancakes
Summary: Dan and Phil meet in Vegas and have an incredibly intimate night together. Two years later, they're professional poker players who discover that they're both entered in the same major tournament. Dan, out of fear, has closed himself off to other people -- and refuses to let Phil into his mind or heart again.
Unfortunately for him, there's a very fine line between a poker face and a sexually-charged gaze, and he may not be able to resist.
"she's so in love with all the things i hate most about myself" (ao3) - pressedflowerspressedkisses
Summary: Daniel Howell falls in love with his best friend and tries to fix everything about himself.
Phil Lester falls in love with his best friend and wants him to see how beautiful he already is.
Sweeter Than Lollipops (ao3) - sweetheartphan
Summary: Dan’s father is tired of him always behaving like a child. He wants him to finally grow up. He wants Dan to get a job before heading to university in the fall to get a sense of the real world. Phil, a friend of his father’s, offers Dan to work for him as his assistant. As time goes on, Dan can’t help but cling to Phil. He provides him gentleness and comfort, while still holding authority. Like a daddy should.
take me to church (ao3) - phantasticworks
Summary: Dan dresses up as a sexy nun for Halloween on the American leg of his tour. Phil is at home. But don’t worry, Dan tells him all about his evening.
The Clock Keeps Ticking (ao3) - tellsfromhale
Summary: Dan has spent over a decade growing comfortable with himself. Finally, he can live his truth, and he can do it with Phil at his side. For the first time, he's excited about what the future holds.
Then, one day, he finds himself suddenly back inside his childhood bedroom a decade in the past, and getting to that future with Phil becomes a lot more difficult.
tonight these emails will deliver you the words that i can't say (ao3) - SylvesterLester
Summary: You've Got Mail!
Tops Only (ao3) - blissedoutphil
Summary: Dan’s favourite actor just opened a new bar right by the street near his apartment, and he couldn’t wait to check it out. One problem though, it was for Tops only, and Dan wasn’t one.
twin flames (ao3) - lovelylcster
Summary: A twin flame is an intense soul connection, sometimes called a "mirror soul," thought to be a person's other half. It's based on the idea that sometimes one soul gets split into two bodies. One of the main characteristics of a twin flame relationship is that it will be both challenging and healing.
Opposites Dan Howell and Phil Lester get paired up at random to complete a thorough English report about each other.
uncertain smile (ao3) - sierraadeux
Summary: He pats both hands around his head, fixing his overgrown quiff possessively. “It’s where I store my… my…”
“Flamboyance?” Farah deadpans, looking up at Phil with her cheek squished against Jackie’s knee.
“Secrets!” Phil shouts a little too loud, his voice carrying over the rooftops and rolling into high laughter as the girls absolutely lose it and Phil clamps his hands over his mouth.
What Dan and Phil Text Each Other (2022) (ao3) - BLUEGREYKIM
Summary: Dan's made a life here, in the house, with Phil. It's good, he reckons. They're good together, have formed a psychic connection over 13 years. He thinks it's pretty nice to have someone he can stare off into the sunset with and think, "Yeah, we're pretty weird."
(alternatively, the context behind dan and phil's 2022 texts)
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fraink5-writes · 11 months
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In the Names of Freedom - Chapter 4
As I promised in the notes of the last chapter (if you actually read those), I am publishing the next one now to make up for how short the previous was!
As always, my editor was @leio13 and she deserves the biggest thanks!
Summary: After confirming the death of his latest target, Xiao’s secret mission is interrupted by an eccentric stranger in green, who claims to be Xiao’s protector! But the reality is much more convoluted… What destiny could possibly link Xiao with Venti—an assassin of hitmen?
This chapter can also be found on Ao3 here. Without further ado, please enjoy!
Qingce Village was indeed the quaint little village its reputation made it out to be. Despite the great number of tourists, the village proper had retained the structure and atmosphere of an old-fashioned Liyue town. The surrounding valley was terraced with autumn-colored flowers, whose sweet scent seemed to nullify the smell of sweaty pilgrims who hiked up and down the mountains in lines.
Following behind Xiao, as soon as Venti stepped off the bus, he stretched with a yawn. “Maaaann… I'm wiped.”
"No surprise there." Xiao said flatly. "You were drinking non-stop." 
"We should find somewhere to stay, do some looking around…"
"No, I have business to do."
"Alright, Mr. No-Fun, you can cut straight to the boring stuff, and I'll enjoy the perks of visiting a new place." 
"Fine." Xiao turned and left.
As soon as Xiao left, Venti sighed with relief—finally away from his eternal gloom! Xiao viewed himself as only a tool for murder, and Venti was beginning to admit he was right. He was the most unbearably callous person Venti ever had the pleasure of meeting.
But Venti's destiny was linked to Xiao, so he would stick with him for a while more. 
Still, Venti wasn't about to let Xiao ruin the best parts of visiting a new place. Venti was first and foremost an information dealer. Qingce Village was a hub for tourists from all around and a breeding ground for criminals. There was a great wealth of information circulating through the unassuming streets. Outside of being the "Mole," he was also Venti, the greatest bard in Teyvat. As Venti, he needed to take in all the magnificent sights the world had to offer. A bird blind to the changing skies as he soars might as well be in a cage.
In any case, Venti's first order of business was to find a place to lodge. The best source of info on this matter would undoubtedly be a community leader. In Qingce Village, Venti soon gathered, the makeshift Village Chef took the form of an elderly woman referred to as Granny Ruoxin.
Venti put on a curious smile and approached the old lady. "Excuse me, Ma'am, but where are the affordable hotels in this village?"
Granny Ruoxin looked him up and down. "...Are you… here to perform?"
Venti's eyes went wide. Clearly, he had underestimated her discerning wisdom. "Yes! Well, sort of… I'm Venti, a bard from Mondstadt. I'm here with my partner as a tourist, but unfortunately, I spent most of my savings on the long journey. Nevertheless, I still hope to find new poetic inspiration—and, of course, get my name out there!"
"Oh wonderful!" Granny Ruoxin looked expectant. "Would you mind performing for the permanent residents here? They could use a breath of fresh air like yourself."
"I'd be delighted! Just give me today to get settled and do some sightseeing, and I'll be good for tomorrow."
"Oh thank you! We haven't had a great performance here in Qingce Village in a long time." 
"I'll show them the best bard Teyvat has to offer!"
Granny Ruoxin chuckled. "You know, I used to be a performer once. An actress. In Liyue Harbor."
“What happened?”
"Well, I was young and very much in love. He was an adventurer, but he promised me that we'd settle here, in the country, together—right after a final voyage. But it ended up a lie." She sighed. "I suppose that's only fitting for an actress. You spend so much time pretending, the truth becomes hard to discern."
"Are you still waiting for him?"
She laughed again. "What would it matter if I were? I'm too old for acting. Too old for whirlwind romances. But you're still young and already more ambitious than I—don't take what you have for granted. In fact, if you wouldn't object to a humble abode, you and your partner are more than welcome to stay in my home."
"Really?!" Even better than Venti anticipated.
"It's only fair since I'm asking a favor of you."
"That'd be perfect! Thank you so much!" Venti had managed to secure not only a place to stay but also a performance gig for himself—he was feeling pretty accomplished. He could now move onto more scenic—and more intrusive—errands.
Whether for enjoying music or less wholesome activities, Venti had honed his ears, and they were perfect for eavesdropping. All he had to do was stand at a viewpoint for a few minutes, and he'd have access to tons of gossip. Most conversations were mundane garbage (grumpy children, forgotten items, etc), but if you could filter through that, there were gems to be found. When Venti tired of a crowd, he simply sauntered to a different hotspot.
He was still in the village proper, at an expensive restaurant with a view, when a wave of hushed whispers hit the surrounding tables.
"Did you hear? There's a fire."
"There's a fire at the Dragon's Scale Hotel!"
A fire…? Venti had witnessed many disasters during his travels—none of which were accidental. 
Venti excused himself from his table, throwing a good chunk of mora at the bartender to cover his drink, and rushed to the source of the rumors. The Dragon's Scale Hotel was a decently large hotel that drew in crowds through its supposed ties to Qingce Village's mythological history. For its popularity, Venti had also overheard a fair share of complaints (missing items, creaking ceilings at night…), but frequent fire alarms wasn't one of them.
In fact, a fire in Qingce Village was a big deal. Older buildings meant relaxed safety standards. And its relative isolation meant that it would probably take a half-hour for a fire crew to reach the site of the fire. The whole town was a disaster waiting to happen, so local businesses took fire alarms very seriously.
When Venti arrived on the scene, he was met by throngs of people regrouping outside and a blaring alarm—but no fire. Someone must have evacuated the building for their own purposes. It could have been owners, hoping to rummage through their patrons' belongings again, but such a flagrant crime came with too many risks. The alternative was… Xiao.
In either case, Venti couldn't wait to find out what all the hype inside the hotel was about. 
Sneaking through the nebulous cluster of panicked people would be a piece of cake. The real hard part was inside. Venti couldn't be certain about the status of the "fire," and, more than that, he really didn't want to run into people. Although Venti was confident in his assessment that the Dragon's Scale Hotel was run by criminals, he had no evidence that they were connected to Liyue Harbor. He wanted to avoid any confrontations with random petty thieves.
Luckily for him, there wasn't a soul near Venti's window of choice, which turned out to be in the kitchen. There was no fire in there either, just an abundance of active sprinklers. He could, however, hear the hurried creaks of multiple footsteps on an upper floor. It didn't sound like fighting, but that could change at any moment. Venti wasn't in a rush to meet them either, so he decided to stick with the ground floor.
Since he was in the kitchen, his first destination was, of course, the wine selection. None were particularly vintage, but there was a decent mix of top-brand Liyue wines and local creations. Venti took mental note of some of the labels for future taste testing. Then he decided to move along with more haste—he had no idea when the owners, or even the fire department, would show up and end his perusal.
While exploring the hall, the first detail that caught Venti's eye was the lack of security cameras. There was an excessive number of blaring alarms and raining sprinklers to assuage guests' concerns but nothing that could implicate any criminals. 
The second oddity was the staff room. Though the hotel liked to play at being a historical building, the facade was dropped for the staff room, which was guarded by a digital keypad. Luckily for Venti, the door was already open. 
As it turned out, the staff room wasn't much of a room at all. It was instead a stairwell leading to a basement. With an ounce of caution, Venti crept down the stairs, but he stopped when he picked up a sweet scent wafting up—
Sleeping gas?! Venti instinctively covered his nose and mouth. After a quick inhale, he held his breath. His exploration was on limited time now. 
The owners probably weren't downstairs, but some enticing evidence most likely would be. So Venti jumped down. At the bottom, there was a large chamber with mounds of stolen treasures. In the center, there was a desk, piled with junk and a desktop computer. And at the foot of the desk was a curled up body. It was Xiao's. 
He really fell for this type of trap? Venti would've sighed, but he didn't want to end up like Xiao on the ground. After confirming Xiao's pulse, Venti reluctantly picked up his body, throwing it over his back. If Venti had time, he would have checked the computer, but he was running low on oxygen, and, as it was, he already had to carry Xiao up and out of the building before he could breathe. There probably was a camera hidden somewhere in that room, but that was beyond Venti's concerns.
In order to avoid stirring up attention, Venti decided to exit through a back window. Fortunately, Xiao was surprisingly light as though he had systematically cut out all excess from his life. With his cheek on Venti's right shoulder, his breath was light and slow. If he remained asleep like this, Venti could carry him with no problem.
However, Xiao's peaceful sleep did not last. As the distance between the noxious gas and Venti grew, Xiao's heartbeat sped up, accelerating his uneven breathing at the same time. Then came the first kick. Then another.
"...Xiao?" Venti cast a glance over his shoulder where Xiao's head was still resting motionless. The only response Venti received from Xiao was a few kicks and some stirs of his arms.
"If you keep that up," Venti added sternly, "I'm going to drop you."
Xiao grunted, but he kept putting up a fight. In fact, he even turned it up another notch. In between grunts and gibberish, Xiao shouted out random words. "...go! …off! …let!"
With his own internal groan, Venti tightened his grip on Xiao's feisty legs and tucked away into a nearby bamboo grove. The last thing Venti needed was for the cluster of panicked tourists to notice the apparent abduction in progress.
If only Venti had the willpower to follow through with his threat and drop Xiao where he stood… But he couldn't abandon Xiao completely defenseless. So he lumbered through the woods with the pestering burden on his back.
Carrying Xiao must have been an inextricable part of Venti's destiny, as little as he understood it. 
How does someone like you survive? One so helpless yet resistant to help?
Venti sighed before pulling Xiao's legs closer to his chest and clamping down on his flailing arms. Perhaps for his own sake more than anything else, he sang a small tune over Xiao's mumbling:
Thus under another's wing, the crane did fly
Away from his clouded nest toward a fair blue sky.
But what fate could the violent skies bring?
For two birds weren't made for one pair of wings…
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artfullypoetic · 2 years
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The Burn of Cold Niceties (1/?)
Title: The Burn of Cold Niceties
Summary: Three years after the the Fourth Shinobi War, peace in Konoha is rocked when one of their own is suspected of treason by placing a bounty on a recently pardoned Sasuke. Determined to uncover the truth, Sakura takes it upon herself to dive deep into Konoha's best-kept secrets. As she faces danger and betrayal, can she protect the village and those she loves? Blank period, mostly canon-compliant, SasuSaku-centric but will include all canon pairings. New chapters once or twice a week! 
Disclaimer: I do not own nor did I create Naruto. This was created solely for entertainment purposes.
Rating: M (for future content)
FF.net Link | AO3 Link. Please comment/review!
Chapter 1/?
No matter how many times she had seen him engage in battle, Sakura never failed to be awestruck by the grace with which his body moved. Her eyes could barely track Sasuke as he evaded the assailant’s blade in quick, flashing maneuvers. She was so enamored by his movements, she almost forgot that she was currently standing completely defenseless in the middle of the attack.
Her eyes quickly darted to the left to follow the object in her periphery and with a crouch, she dodged a kunai flying straight towards her temple. Forcing chakra into the soles of her feet, she launched her body upwards and onto a large branch of a nearby tree. She knew that from here, she had to make carefully calculated movements. She had overexerted herself helping out at the nearby village’s hospital and one misstep could mean wasting the last of her chakra. 
Scanning the ground below her, her eyes locked on the unknown attacker who stood in the direction from which the kunai came. She jumped out of the tree, her legs running towards the man as soon as she made contact with the ground. Concentrating her chakra on her fist this time, she punched the man square in the chest, sending him flying across the forest and slamming hard into a tree trunk.
Satisfied that he was unconscious, she scanned the area again for additional threats. Finding none, her eyes settled on Sasuke across the clearing and she watched as he silently slid his katana back into its sheath. Several feet in front of him, laid the unmoving body of his prior opponent. It had been almost two years since she last saw him, and she noted that his previously short, spiky hair was now long and unruly, with its tips almost touching his shoulders and strands falling in front of his face, covering the eye she knew was his rinnegan. 
His eyes traveled to where she stood and she couldn’t help but hold her breath as his gaze met hers. Other than the length of his hair, he looked exactly as he did the day he left. Dark hair and even darker, deeper eyes. Beautiful, she couldn’t help but think. He looked exactly like the image she had committed to memory of that day in front of Konoha’s gate, where he stood with his fingertips to her forehead and a small smile on his lips. But the smile was not present today. As he walked towards her, his facial features became more and more apparent: he was furious.
“Sakura, what are you doing here?” Sasuke hissed when he finally came to a stop in front of her. His voice was harsh and cold, his lone visible eye bore into her green ones. With him this close to her after so long, Sakura found that her mouth was completely dry and she couldn’t, for the life of her, force her lips to form words. She never expected to see him here. She especially didn’t expect him to be angry with her. 
At her silence, he let out an exasperated sigh as if to bring down his temper and added, “you need to go home.”
“I wasn’t trying to follow you!” she finally stammered out. She wasn’t sure why those were her choice of words and she immediately regretted them as soon as they left her tongue. 
“I didn’t say you were,” he returned. His eyes continued to study her, the fury she initially saw was gone. In its place was his usual blank expression, his lips pressed in a thin line.
“Wh-What I meant to say was I was helping at the hospital in the village nearby when I heard all the fighting,” Sakura took a deep breath to steady her voice. “Some civilians told me that there were thugs terrorizing them lately so I followed the noise to check it out. I never expected to see you here, Sasuke-kun.”
Sasuke simply huffed quietly in reply. 
Suddenly, it dawned on her, “wait, what are you doing here, Sasuke? Why were they all attacking you?” 
“Someone’s placed a large bounty on me,” he shrugged.
“What?” Her eyes widened in shock.
“At least that’s what I figured when–” Sasuke tilted his head slightly in the direction of the man he fought earlier, “–that one mentioned something about being rich once they got me.”
“That’s awful! How are you being so calm about this?” Sakura asked, incredulously. 
He shrugged again, “Wouldn’t be the first time.” 
 She continued to stare at him in disbelief. How could he be so nonchalant about the fact that someone wanted him harmed enough to put a bounty on him? She knew that he was stronger than any assailant that could try to hunt him down, but it still seemed unreal to her that he was so careless with his own safety.
“Go home, Sakura,” he reiterated as he turned and began to walk away from her, his hand waving dismissively in the air. 
“Wait! You can’t just go off alone when there are so many people trying to hurt you!” Her eyes traveled across the clearing where she counted at least six unconscious bodies lying in the grass, not including the man that she fought earlier. 
“That’s none of your concern.” His back was still turned to her. 
Sakura flinched at his all-too-familiar words before replying, “Yes, it is. I–”
“No, it’s not. Now go home.” He cut her off sternly, his head was slightly turned now so that he could look at her in his periphery, his shoulders tense.
As she opened her mouth to argue, she was interrupted by an explosion going off right beside her. Suddenly, everything was black with smoke and she felt a searing pain on her arm that was closest to the blast. The force knocked her onto her back and her ears rang. She tried to push herself up but found that all her strength was gone. With her head still foggy, she tried her best to use her medical knowledge to assess the extent of her injuries. She noted that she had at least a third degree burn on her arm. When the smoke slightly cleared, she could also see that she was bleeding profusely; but from where, she had no idea. 
Distantly, she could hear the sound of fighting, blades clanging against each other with a metallic ring. She knew that if she didn’t act now to heal herself, she would bleed out. But no matter how hard she tried to sit, she couldn’t find the strength to get up. Her chakra, she realized, was gone. All she could do now was lie limply in the grass. 
She hoped that Sasuke was okay. She tried to look for him, but her vision was blurred from both the smoke and the blood loss. The ringing in her ears seemed to only get louder. She swore she heard someone calling her name but she couldn’t make out the words they said next. Not able to fight it any longer, she let her eyelids flutter shut and welcomed the darkness that consumed her.
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smolvenger · 1 year
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Stella of Essex or The Vicar's Wife Betrayed Series. Chapter 14- Lemon Blossoms
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A Fix-It Fanfiction Series based off of The Essex Serpent
Pairings: Stella Ransome/Male OC: Harry Cavaradossi, some Stella Ransome/William Ransome but focusing on the angst of his cheating and the tragedy of their marriage. Mainly Stella Ransome/Happiness and Will/Facing Consequences for Cheating.
Series Summary: The Essex Serpent is reimagined and told from the perspective of Stella Ransome. And with a new ending. Stella must come to terms with not only her mortality but her husband's heartbreaking affair. A portrait of a woman who became The Ideal Lady her time and marriage required her to be. A picture of a marriage of love and bliss torn apart by a husband's infidelity. And Stella herself in the center of it all, torn between a wife's duty and her own quiet but present rage. Where in the midst of devastating heartbreak she gains her strength, finds her voice, and dares to seek freedom, hope...and even revenge.
Chapter Summary: Stella becomes a widow. She is reunited with her children and then goes to a Sanatorium for her tuberculosis. She is haunted by the memories of her late husband and her dangerous secret concerning his death. Her In-Laws pose her with an impossible ultimatum. And Harry Cavaradossi has a solution for her.
Prologue//One//Two//Three//Four//Five//Six//Seven//Eight//Nine//
Ten//Eleven//Twelve//Thirteen
Warnings: Major Character Death and discussions of it. Discussions of cheating and the trauma it causes, funerals, grief, mourning, families, children, trauma, sex, sex workers, illness, doctors, and a Sanatorium. Mentions of blood. Canon Divergence. Some angst, but lots of fluff ESPECIALLY at the end :) Hurt/Comfort and getting to the comforting and healing section of whump. Being Anti-Will Ransome and Anti-C*ra so if you like the pairing or the characters themselves, you have been warned.
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“Theseus abducted Minos’ daughter (Ariadne) and sailed to Dia, where he cruelly abandoned his companion to her wailing. Bacchus brought love and comfort to the girl, and so that she would shine among the stars, he sent her diadem up into heaven; it flew its precious stones were turned to brilliant fires…”- Ovid, Metamorphoses, Translated by Charles Martin, Book VIII, lines 240-249.
The next day, Dante and Edith returned with a purchase made from the safe money- two black dresses, black gloves, and a veil. They went upstairs to deliver it and Edith helped me change into my first black dress.
“You’re a widow now, you need to wear these for two years and a day…And you must isolate yourself except for church…” she instructed.
“I have been isolating myself since I fell sick. Or trying to. And Edith…”
I felt her help button up the dress from the back.
“Yes?” she added.
I turned around my head to look at her as she finished the last button.
“If anyone asks, I’m not moving back to Aldwinter. I don’t want to go back to the place I fell in love with him. There are too many memories there, happy and sad ones and happy ones made sad after this. also, with the house and William’s property there…I’d like to sell it.”
She looked around at me, nodding. I sat down on the bed, and she sat on a chair.
“The money I’ve been given, and the sale will be given for two things- one, for my children, and second, so I can go to a Sanatorium to stay to recover. But I want the house and property sold and for my children and the dog to reside in London,” I instructed.
“Then we’ll send a telegram, ask the children to pack their things. But Stella, I was thinking…” she began shyly.
“What is it, Edith?” I asked.
She walked around as I adjusted the long sleeves to reach to my wrists. Then she placed her hands in front of her, twiddling her thumbs, glanced down, and then looked at me.
“Stella…Dante’s house only has so much room…could the children stay with me? You can too!” she suggested.
“Why, of course!” I answered.
She smiled and placed her hands on her cheeks. Her eyes darted as her thoughts poured out of her mouth one by one.
“Oh yes! Our own house is big enough for three children and a dog, Stella! After all, I and Edgar have always wanted to have a big family. But…I’ve just had trouble getting pregnant….and at least, Eddie’s fond of dogs!”
“Yes, how wonderful!”
She then took my hands and her eyes looked sincerely into mine.
“And Stella…if you should pass. Edgar and I will adopt the children.…”
“Oh, of course!” I agreed.
We both embraced and then I went over to the looking glass on the desk. I hardly recognized myself not in blue, but in black. My own face looked even paler contrasted with the dark color. Once Edith placed the veil on top of my head and draped the black lace, so it fell long over my face, I wondered if what I saw was even human.
“May I lift the veil if I see my children or someone I love?” I asked.
“I think so,” Edith answered with a shrug. ▬▬ι══════════════ι▬▬ A week passed and I received a telegram saying the children were coming to London. I kept waiting and waiting every day, dressed in my black with a veil behind my face every afternoon. I was waiting to hear those three voices I loved so dearly.
Dante and kindly enough, Harry himself sat by my side each day to talk with me and distract me from my anxiety. I kept wanting to ask those impossible questions: where were they? What were they doing? Did something happen? God forbid, have they been hurt?
Finally, one afternoon I heard a dog bark, and a gaggle of familiar voices at the door. And then a knock. Dante took my hand and squeezed, and Harry went over to open the door.
Turning, there they were with Edith and Edgar in the opening parlor of Dante’s house. They all looked at me and their chatter stopped. Joanna, John, and James were all dressed in black and looked at me like a phantom in my veil. The dog however continued to wag his tail and tugged at the leash eager to greet me.
We stared at each other in our black. Then I threw off my veil to see them clearly.
They all cried “Mama!!” and ran up to me.
There all hugged me, and I even heard some tears. I too was crying despite myself. I said their names and followed each by kissing the tops of their heads. Edgar, keeping the dog on his leash, allowed him up, barking, whining, smiling and I was reacquainted with his cold nose and wet kisses on my cheek.
After this was done, I put a hand on John’s shoulder and another on James, Joanna standing in the middle.
“Darlings, I must tell you. I’ll stay with you for a little while in your Aunt Edith’s house. Then when the funeral is done, I’m going to a Sanitarium. Your aunt and uncle will look after the three of you. once either the money runs out or I have finished my time and declare myself healthy. I will go back to live with all of you with your aunt and be your mother like normal. Please…I’m not abandoning any of you. Please don’t think that…it’s my health…”
Joanna went up and hugged me again, shaking her head.
‘Of course not, Mama!” she insisted.
“It’ll help you feel better!” James said.
John leaned down and petted the dog.
“I just can’t believe Papa’s gone…” he sighed.
“Neither can I…” I agreed soberly. ▬▬ι══════════════ι▬▬ The funeral was a small affair. The veil I wore was able to hide the many tears I cried over William during the service. Crying about what became of him, my Will. The Love of My Life and The Serpent of Aldwinter. Crying from what I had to do. Yet I kept looking around at each corner with my throat tightening and breath hitching. I was watching out for her: Her. Her. Her. Thankfully, I did not see Her in attendance throughout the day.
But then my father and mother-in-law approached me during the reception. Their eyes were red with tears and their faces pale. My Mother-In-Law spoke in a voice low enough that heads wouldn’t turn.
“We hear you’re going to the countryside for your health. Here…take this check to finance your stay. But other than that, don’t expect a penny more from us!” she hissed, practically throwing a check into my hands.
“Thank you, it will be of help to me,” I said with a calm smile. ▬▬ι══════════════ι▬▬ It was hard to leave my children again. But I promised I would write to them every day and they promised they would visit once the train arrived at the station. Harry and Dante helped me up into the car and to our seats. Dante was next to me, and Harry was across from me, I looked out the window and lowered it to listen and say more parting words to James, John, and Joanna. Edith got out handkerchiefs to wave out for me. John practically ran after it until he got to the end of the walkway, waving his arm goodbye and me waving goodbye at the window towards him until he vanished.
“Oh, I have a gift for the two of you…” I began.
Harry jumped in his seat; his hand pulled to his chest.
“Me too? A gift for me!?” he asked.
“Yes, here, in my bag…” I said.
I reached inside the bag I had and got out two pairs of the dark blue gloves I had knitted during my time in London.
“Here for each of you, the first one to shelter me and the first friend I made in London, the first one to help me when Will died. Edith already has hers. I know it’s spring now, but perhaps you can use them next winter,” I reasoned.
Dante smiled, already fitting them onto his hands.
“Why, how kind, Stella! Thank you!” he said.
“I’ll be glad to wear them when it gets colder again. London’s brutal in December,” Harry confirmed.
He placed both into his large hands and held them on his lap, his thumbs feeling the texture.
“Harry,” I started.
He turned his curly head towards me. It was the same color as Will's with Harry's being a little blonder. Also, Harry's wasn't as long as Will's and had a smoothness and shine to it I saw on the top of his head as he took off his hat to be seated beside him.
“I forgot to ask, how is your father now? Wasn’t his health bad?”
“I’ll tell you this. I kept to your word when we parted at your husband’s place. I spoke to my father. I apologized for what I had done in the past. He apologized for making me think he didn’t love me for the times I made mistakes. We cried a lot and then he embraced me, and I called him “papa”- me, a grown man! We speak to each other almost every day and for once not to squabble. As for his health, his heart is weakened, but he seems to be alright for now.”
It was a long, dull train ride. I was grateful for boredom. Fields rolled by us and were replaced by mountains. Mountains so massive they broke through clouds. The train stopped and we took a little carriage to get to the Sanatorium at last.
Nurses and doctors ran out of the entrance to greet us and gather my things. One of the nurses with grey hair and dark eyebrows brought forth a wheelchair.
“Our patients must first and foremost- rest! Sit here, Mrs. Ransome!”
Harry and my brother helped me into the cushioned seat. They walked by me as the nurse wheeled me inside.
“When are visiting days?” I asked.
“Tuesdays and Thursdays. You will meet in the parlor,” she informed me.
I looked over at them.
“Dante, can you visit?”
“Of course, Stella!” he reassured me.
“Write to Aldwinter and tell them they can write to me here for the time being,” I requested.
We heard some giggles from the hallway and a cough from another. I noticed almost every window in the building was open. We paused before a door.
“I’ll go in and make sure your bed is ready- not sure the new girl remembered to make it!” she complained before slipping through the door.
I could feel that the air was crisp, and cooler despite the spring sunshine and being indoors. You could hear some birdsong right on the roof over us. Dante met with another nurse and carried my two bags over to the next room.
Harry looked at me.
“Can I visit you too, Stella?” he asked.
A part of me stuttered out the words. My mouth felt dry.
“Um, yes. I’d like it…”
He smiled as the nurse returned and rolled me on and he followed, hands in pockets.
“Do you remember that joke we managed to pull on Dante those weeks ago? The hat?!” he recalled.
I smiled and nodded, “Yes! I remember! The one with the hole! Switched and he never noticed it! And right when he walked out the rain got right onto his head, and he ran back inside like a cat! I never laughed that hard in ages!”
“I’m glad I could make you laugh, Stella.”
It is a large room filled with beds against white walls. I could place my bags and suitcase beneath it. Nurses and doctors floated by, and patients coughed in their beds, slept, or laid down reading or watching around them. Luckily, my bed was across a large window that overlooked the mountains.
“But you will visit, will you Harry?” I pleaded.
“Yes, whenever I can, Stella, I promise. I’ll even bring the children over with me if I can,” he said. ▬▬ι══════════════ι▬▬ The fresh air was everywhere. It seeped between the windows and through the floors inside. Once you were outside, you could almost drown in it.
For a whole month, doctors in white coats with glasses and pretty nurses of at least eighteen advised me to a rest cure. To have four days of the week where I only lay in bed. As hearty as my meals were, it was awkward drinking and eating the rich food they fed us while lying down. The nurse would tip over a glass of milk from me to drink but was careful not to spill it on me. I became used to the taste of the raw eggs they fed us as a side to our meals. They insisted it was good for tuberculosis. The other three days I was allowed to sit up, I could read or write or sew or knit, but I was not permitted to move a foot from the bed. Sometimes a doctor would only pass me by with a “hmmm, aha…” while observing me and then continue on to the next bed. However, there were days the doctors would look at me carefully for hours and write down notes on what I needed next. The nurses would pass by daily with whatever treatments they had to administer to the others.
Often, I noticed doctors and nurses cleaning up the blood. Sometimes, I would see a dead body- its shape covered by a white sheet on a bed- down the hall or in the room being taken away.
“Please God, I’m so lonely, please let someone visit! Please give me someone to talk to! Please let me get better, please!” I would pray every day.
I didn’t dare ask when I could leave but kept up with the treatments and rested as much as I could.
I could be wheeled outside in the wheelchair to sit outside no matter what the weather was. I had several experiences of staying in a bed that was outside on the yard or balcony on days that were completely clear, the mountain air surrounding me.
I mainly wore white nightgowns when I was in bed. For my hours outside in a wheelchair or rocking chair or seeing visitors, my wardrobe consisted of mourning dresses. As the month of May began, I was sweating profusely beneath it all even in the shade. It was bliss to feel the cool wind.
Sometimes in the distance of nature, the rolling mountains, hills, and forests from my hours sitting outside, I would think of William. I would picture him walking about these valleys and how he would have loved reaching his chin up to look at the mountains. I could see him, hands in his pockets, his long, curly hair flying back with the wind.
To think that I, above all people, could and did end a human life! My husbands!
Sometimes I could still see him, hands in pockets, his long coat, his green scarf, admiring the view in front of him and his lips rounding to the words he’d call me “Stella! Look at the mountain- you could make a sermon out of this!”
Then I’d see a tree and a different picture returned to my eyes. I'd see what I saw that day in Aldwinter. The picture of Will retreating his hand from The Woman’s skirt, placing his fingers to his lips, and licking them. Being with Her. Her. Her. Her.
I would stare at it, into the oblivion of nature so long, that I wouldn’t feel the tears fall quietly from my eyes nor one of the nurses shake me after the air bath was over.
“Mrs. Ransome! Mrs. Ransome! Get out of your head and into the wheelchair! It’s time to go inside!” a sharp, shrill voice would scold me.
I noticed one time as my children were visiting, accompanied by their Uncle Edgar, that Joanna had her hair curled. I told her she looked lovely, and she smiled in admiration of them.
Rarely, the visitor would be an old friend from Aldwinter and I would greet them with happy tears and urges to embrace and we would spend hours talking. I would recall the old church and ask if it was still doing its Woman’s Bible Study. They’d tell me all about the new curate and vicar after William’s passing and what daring thing Martha said about the social classes.
I would spend hours admiring the views from my window on my bed: I could see a large lake and rolling green hills. Even nearby farms let their white sheep graze across it like little white clouds on a green sky.
I could write and read letters. I read whatever books or newspapers or magazines I could to pass the time. Of everyone, I most often got letters from four people: my three children, and Harry.
By June, I became more and more chatty among my fellow patients. With hours of being outside and having tuberculosis, such trials bring people together. I asked who they were and where they came from. I’d tell them that I am Mrs. Stella Ransome, originally from Aldwinter, and I was mourning my late husband, hence my black. There was harmless, fascinating gossip I indulged in hearing and relaying of course. Who was talking with so-and-so, who was sneaking away to drink? What each of my neighbors’ lives was like before this- they were happy to tell me. Who left feeling like new? Who died?
I noticed at the times Harry visited, my mouth would still go dry, and my stomach fluttered. I brushed it off as feeling sick.
In July, I began to speak most often with one woman named Mrs. Elvira Carson. She was a tall woman with chestnut hair and large green eyes that seemed to match the fields and liked to wear pink, soft cotton on hot summer days. Even with the hollowness in her cheeks, she was pretty. We both had an interest in flowers. We discussed what we noticed grew in the gardens, and then what plants and flowers. By August, we remembered our old homes, and then our husbands. Hers was still alive.
“But…I must confess something, Mrs. Ransome…” she said one day, her eyes dripping down.
“What is it?” I asked.
She took out a handkerchief and twisted it in her thin hands.
“I mustn’t complain about you being in mourning,” she muttered.
“No, you can complain to me,” I assured her.
“Part of me is grateful to get away because…years ago…it broke my heart so much but…my-my husband had…had another woman…”
I looked right at her, yet I felt frozen where I sat.
“I did my best to maintain a brave face at home. I bit back everything I felt and let him carry on. Thank God he passed nothing onto me but…I feel so…so hurt…” I reached out a hand.
“Well, I know how it feels. I am so sorry. You must be suffering terribly…"
I looked at her and tried to smile, despite a few tears escaping me.
“I can tell you this…you are not alone,” I promised.
We would spend hours and I’d listen to her, letting her mourn and discuss it. We would cry and then laugh at some foolish business or bit of humor that was picked up. We laughed about how silly men and women can be and the ridiculousness of it all. Of course, I did not discuss my own husband’s affair, much less the truth concerning my husband’s end. I had to be careful about who I confided in. But it felt nice to comfort someone.
“June 1st would have been our fifteenth anniversary,” I recalled sadly.
“I’ve been married to mine for about ten years, our anniversary will be October 10th,” she traded back.
I was then moved to the second class of patients. I could get up but if I promptly returned to bed afterward. I could move and walk around a little bit, but the rest came first no matter what. I was grateful once the air chilled and became Autumn. My mourning and the constant blankets over me made me warm.
In October, Harry came by with Dante. Harry even brought over an open bottle of wine and poured us each a glass. As we all three sat in the parlor and caught up over a cup, I noticed Harry was wearing the gloves I gave him all the way back in April.
I found myself suddenly self-conscious, despite wearing a veil that covered most of my face. Harry’s smile made me hold my breath. I was glad that the veil hid me, so it would hide the fact that my eyes would continually dart back to admire his soft, lovely features. Sometimes he seemed so pretty, it was as if he stole them from the face of a lady. I felt as if lightning struck my stomach whenever he would address me.
“I will write to you shortly,” he promised, gathering the empty glasses.
“You write to me constantly!” I replied.
“Only because I bet you must be bored out of your mind here, Stella!” he joked.
Then I looked at him again. And I froze again, seeing a ghost.
Harry had high cheekbones, curly hair, and blue eyes.
William had high cheekbones, curly hair, and blue eyes.
The nurse brought me to a wheelchair and back to the room where I was sleeping in.
“No, no, no, no!” I thought to myself once I returned to my bed.
You are a complete and utter fool! Haven’t you learned your lesson by now?! No, don’t you dare! I scolded myself. Don’t you know what happened the last time you fell deeply in love with a man? With Will? Can’t you see it shall happen again and again! And you recall how that ended! I scolded myself.
I began to recall and reassess our old interactions and his words as I lay awake on the bed at night. But once I woke up the next morning, I would shake my head and bury myself under the pillow childishly.
If none other than a priest tossed you aside for another woman, then what do you think says how undesirable you are, Stella? You’re making up some silly fantasy and can’t face the real world! Can’t you learn to content yourself with friendships and your children and family and nothing else? Besides, even if he did like you, you’ll be the prisoner of an apprehensible man again!
I kept trying not to think of Harry. But I did. So, I tried to easily swap Harry out with my memories of images of Will in my mind. Then I would let myself cry.
I considered destroying Harry’s letters to not pour over and obsess over every word. But I could never manage to even rip one tear into them. They made me so happy. And I was a sick woman at risk of death. And any happiness I could find was better than none. Even happiness from a silly infatuation.
As November passed by it was starting to snow more often. Despite the chill, I was made to sit outside for hours and hours. I had at least five blankets piled on me, and I was quite grateful to be decked all in black. Although, I did miss my old blue clothes.
In December, one doctor was helping treat my symptoms when he asked about the doctor I had when I was diagnosed. I was moved to another room and had more freedom to stand, move about and walk some, including some walking and exercising outside. I could now be moved up to the third class if there were no relapses.
“When were you first diagnosed, Mrs. Ransome?” he asked kindly at the end of his visit.
“That was all the way back in March. And that doctor said I was dying…” I answered.
He took off his glasses, cleaned them, and returned them to his face.
“Well, although there’s no cure yet, your symptoms seem to be slow, and they seem to have improved since then. Looks like whoever that gentleman was in Aldwinter underestimated how tough you really are, Mrs. Ransome!” he said with a little laugh.
“Yes, I agree. But honestly, I think it’s the air here. The air has helped me,” I replied with a nod.
“Though, you will need a little bit more time before you return to society. But now we can recommend you move far more. We’ll move you to the next quadrants. And more exercise will be recommended. You can stand up for a little bit and walk a little longer and farther- but no running!”
I placed my hands on my lap and looked into him.
“Sir, may I ask, when will I be back to normal? When can I leave?”
He let out a sigh, placed a hand over his mouth, looked at his notes, and then at me.
“Maybe six months. You might relapse, and we can’t risk that,” he answered. ▬▬ι══════════════ι▬▬ In the last week of December, I received two letters. The first one was from Edith which made me gasp aloud reading it.
“Pregnant! Yes, pregnant! Oh, what joy! What relief! I never in a hundred years thought so! But three months along- the doctor confirmed! I know Eddie’s worried now about how to provide for not only a wife but now four children and soon perhaps you, we know we can make it work. We have waited far too long for our own child. But your children are all well and healthy, I assure you! John’s cheeks have grown plumper and redder. His hair is even darkening now to a brown once you look at him. As for James, he has said the funniest things to me this past week, and I must tell you about them. As we were making plans for the nursery for the new baby…”
When I opened the second letter, I saw it was from my in-laws. But the words made the letter shake in my hand.
“Should you prove that you do not have sufficient funds to provide for Joanna, John, and James, we shall gladly take them off your hands. After all, we are concerned since William’s death about your suitability of you to be their mother. They need to grow up in a place beyond your influence- of such a lack of peace in a home that drove William to his death. The girl we agreed for him to marry was a sweet, selfless creature named Stella. Where is she now? Why can’t you become her again? She was the woman we wanted our grandchildren to be raised by. Not this current, selfish woman who drove our son to sin and death by his own hand! If you had made the home peaceful, warm, and loving despite his infidelity, he would not have been driven to kill himself in the first place!”
The letter fell from my hand and the world became foggy with the tears building up in my eyes.
Oh God, either I was going to have to leave the Sanatorium before I was healthy, or they would take them away! Forever! And who knows, I may never see them again. But I knew the doctor would not permit me to leave an inch from the place yet.
What was I to choose- to risk death and head out? Not that I could even sneak out of how strict they were and how there were nurses everywhere. Say I was to die- that would be the best option- Edith could quickly adopt them. But then…the Ransomes were a well-off, influential family. After I was gone, they could out-buy their way to claim the children as theirs.
Either way, I lost.
I told my fellow patients, and together we would cry together. I wrote a telegram to be sent to Dante. I begged the nurses to send it at their soonest convenience.
“MY IN-LAWS WANT MY CHILDREN. STOP.
RUNNING OUT OF MONEY. STOP.
PLEASE SEND HELP. STOP.”
At that point, perhaps I would welcome death. I could maybe make an illusion for myself that my children would be in Edith’s care once I was gone. I would no longer fear being one of the bodies carried out. But so far, each day I opened my eyes. And each day, I knew, the money was slowly running out.
The calendars on our walls shifted. “JANUARY 1894. HAPPY NEW YEAR!” they read cheerfully, filled with images of snow, parties, and celebration. ▬▬ι══════════════ι▬▬
The next Thursday around the evening, a nurse announced that Harry was here to visit me.
“Oh, is he here with the children?” I asked the nurse.
“No, he’s alone! Here Mrs. Ransome…I’ll help you into your mourning dress…and here…here’s your veil,” she offered.
She helped me dress into one of my black dresses and then took the veil and draped it over my face.
“Let me help you into the guest parlor. If you ask for coffee and dessert, we’ll be glad to bring it.”
We walked over to the parlor, she opened the door for me to enter and then closed it, staying right outside.
Harry was sitting in the little chair by the roaring fireplace. He was wearing a new, well-tailored black suit and a black armband around one arm. On the little table were black gloves and a hat with a black ribbon tied around it. He had a little book in his hand that was blue with an illustration of a goat on the cover. Once I walked in, he got up and bowed in greeting.
“Stella!” he greeted.
“Harry!”
“Here…a gift for you. Late Birthday and Late Christmas,” he offered.
He put the book in front of me and I accepted it.
“In your honor, your children and I would find flowers in the park or grow them and press them in a book in your honor. It was a little project for the four of us. and now…now here they are for you…even when it’s winter, you can have flowers.”
Outside I noticed it was snowing heavily, but the paths were cleared out to allow travel for guests and employees of the Sanatorium. You could see the snow as it blanketed the evergreens and kissed the tips of the mountains.
“Why, thank you! How sweet of you and the children!” I replied.
I kept smiling at him, grateful for the veil.
But no…no…no, not again. No, I won’t allow this to myself. I cannot. I cannot. I thought. I made myself frown. Harry swallowed, the lump going down his throat.
“Stella…I’d like to see your face, please…” he requested.
I put the book down on the little table.
“Then remove my veil and look at me…”
He then walked forward and tenderly, gingerly, lifted the veil from my face and over my head. It was a slow, sacred movement- as if he was lifting the lid to the Ark of the Covenant. I looked up at him, my view cleared from the blockage of black lace. His eyes were bright and shiny.
“Soon, you won’t have to wear veils and blacks. You can wear greys and lavenders, I think you’d look nice in grey or lavender,” he commented.
“How is your father?” I asked.
“My father…he passed four days ago from his bad heart.” He gestured to the black armband and then bowed his head. “Oh, Harry, I’m so sorry…” I sighed. “I now am set to own and run a whole bank myself on top of losing him…but enough of my troubles-I was there at Dante’s when your telegram arrived,” he said.
“I’ve paid for this with donations, the sale of the house and the property. Most of the other money I have inherited I have sent to Edith to care for my children. My friends and family and even the one check my in-laws permitted me has been funding my stay.”
From my pocket, I got out the letter from them and gave it to Harry to look over.
“Look here- they’re going to take them the second I run out of money from my stay here. But they’re right on one account…it’s my fault William died,” I explained.
Harry shook his head, setting the letter down.
“He died from his own faults. That’s what always happens in plays. Macbeth died from ambition. Oedipus his stubbornness. Agamemnon his selfishness. Richard the Third, Lear, and Coriolanus are all monsters cruel to others. Now William his lust, indecisiveness, and not acknowledging how his adultery would hurt you. That was what drove him to his death. He made a choice. And suffered the consequences of it. And when there seemed to be no other way-he drank poison.”
“You are right about that…” I nodded.
You heard a patient from outside coughing and a squeaky path of a wheelchair with a doctor chatting. The fire continued to crackle. Outside the sun was setting and the world was turning to a dark grey.
“But I…I’m so worried about losing my children. And the Sanatorium won’t let me leave yet but require money for my stay…” I spoke.
Harry walked over to the fireplace. He leaned against the mantle looking into the flames. It made an orange glow against his handsome face.
“Do you…do you know what you can do about it?” he asked.
“I have two options. I can try to find a way to make money here- sew or clean or cook or garden in the spring to earn my keep. I might be a patient, but they say I can walk, stand, and move some. Second, I can write to my family and friends and hope their donations are enough or in time…” I listed, counting them off with my fingers.
“You have another choice…” he suggested quietly.
His eyes turned from the fire to me. He sat back down on the couch and gestured for me to be next to him. I followed and sat where his hand was. I followed him and sat down.
“What other choice is there?” I asked.
My eyes scattered around, trying to think what he was talking about. He never dropped his eyes on me. Then it struck me what he was talking about. I felt my own heart stop in my chest for a minute. Harry folded his hands together, but his fingers kept twitching. His eyes glanced down.
“Stella…I…I…uhm, I realized. There was a reason why that night I gave you that cup of wine after you cried over The Serpent. Why I offered myself to duel your husband. Why I joined accompanying you to him. Why I followed your advice. Why I sent those bottles to you when you were at William’s place? Why I ran once I heard you scream? Why I offered to bring you home. Why do I keep visiting you? Why do I keep writing to you almost every day.”
“And why do I reply to each,” I blurted in reply.
We looked at each other. I pulled out my handkerchief and put it to my mouth as if to restrain myself from another outburst, not from a cough.
“Stella it’s because…I want you to be happy. I want you to be happy. And I would love it if you could be happy with me…can’t you see? I can’t pretend like I don’t feel anything or feel a little about you, not anymore! I love you, Stella!” he confessed.
I saw Harry was crying a little bit, yet a smile broke on his face.
“Harry, When did you fall in love with me?” I asked quietly.
“I loved you the moment I saw you, I think. Seeing you there…in your blue, your pale face, your hair. I was hungover, I was even questioning if you were real or the fantasy of a drunken man. Yet your image struck me! Yes, you’re beautiful, but I saw something else in you and it chilled and awed me. You were a woman who had seen hell and emerged from it with your heart broken, but not destroyed. You had been to the underworld and emerged changed, but alive. And that amazed me.”
He was sucking in quivering breaths, rambling on.
“Then I found out you were still married. And married to a man who did not hurt your body but broke your heart. I wished I could save you from him then. I knew it would be wrong for me to even speak aloud such things.”
“You’re right- if you even suggested it, it would land me into deep trouble. And an affair on my end would only make things worse” I agreed.
“So, I kept my silence and did what I could to know you were safe, you were alright. But you’re gentle, you’re caring, and you appreciate and look for things no one else does. Even when I was that drunken rake, some overindulged cad, you cared about my well-being and didn’t scoff at me as others would. You gave me wisdom and advice…advice that I followed! It rekindled my father and me before he could die! And it was all thanks to you! Now…now you’re free. You’re free from William…” “So even back then, you still loved me?” I asked.
“Yes, Stella, I love you and I want to marry you!” he declared.
I let out a gasp and put my hand again over my mouth.
“I don’t want to sit to the sides with this through your pain! I will face this as your next of kin! We will brave your consumption together! Plus, once we’re married, the Ransomes will have no claim over the children because I will be their father! I have far more than enough money from the bank and my new position to feed and shelter Joanna, John, James, and you! And you can use my money to stay here and recover if you’d like!”
“I want to, but I…I’m afraid, Harry…” I confessed.
“Do you know what I’m afraid of? I’m afraid of watching you wither and die miserable and alone and without help! I’m afraid of facing this next part of my life alone with no one by my side. Being alone. Then pushed into a loveless marriage for the sake of image- If I don’t marry you, I’ll be forced to marry a wife who just wants to waste money when it could be spent helping someone, someone like you! What lady do I know is Stella Ransome? None!”
He took both of his hands and clutched them gently onto mine. He looked right into my eyes, pleading, promising.
“If you accept my hand, I promise you- I’ll be loyal to you, and I will provide for you and your children. They will want for nothing. So shall you.”
I teared up. Another pair of blue eyes years ago made similar promises that I leaped into eagerly. But I was wiser now.
“But…the thing is Harry…I look at you and sometimes I see Will! I see William’s eyes in your own, looking at me, William’s face smiling at me. I fear…I’m so afraid of marrying another William…of just loving, making myself that open again, and then…” I trailed off.
I pulled out a handkerchief to wipe my tears, not finishing the obvious end of that thought.
“I swear to you, I am not William Ransome- I am Harold Cavaradossi! I am not Will, I am Harry! And Harry will be the most faithful, honest, and loving husband to you…”
I began shaking my head, looking around for Dante or someone to leap out on me in the surprise of this trick.
“You’re…you’re tricking me. This has to be one of your pranks. You just… you want to…want to collect me like one of your courtesans and paint me and leave me for someone else!” I forced myself to say.
He shook his head.
“No, Stella…. I’m not…” he refused.
He reached a hand over to wipe the tears from my face.
“Where were you going before this? Who were you seeing?” I asked angrily.
“Your children, right before I got on the train and left.” He answered.
“And what were you discussing?”
“I was telling them that I was going to propose marriage to you, and they were excited about it! They’ll have me as their stepfather! They want you to be happy too! Here- I have a letter in my pocket from James to you listing all the reasons you should marry me!”
He pulled it out. Sure enough, it was James' childish, loopy handwriting.
“Dear Mama,
Please marry Mr. Harry. For one reason, he tells me all the best stories about the plays he saw. Two, he makes me laugh. Three, he takes me to the park and…”
I let out a little laugh. I kissed the paper from my darling James and pressed it to my heart. And then he laughed too. We caught our breaths, and we went on. The wind whistled and some snow blew with it, creating a wind of dancing snow, and then it stopped.
“When was the last time you saw a lady of the night?” I asked carefully.
“Six months ago! Do you know why? I could pay some poor woman who needed the money and imagine it was you. And because you were in deep mourning and any marriage proposals to a widow within that time were out of the question! But now… I can’t see them. I can’t even step in a brothel anymore because I…I keep thinking of…of what you would think of me. What you would have me be and do…and I thought you would be ashamed of me and now…I can’t anymore…” he answered.
I put the letter from my son into the book. Then I crossed my arms, looking down.
“Harry…I’m not some innocent virgin anymore.”
“Well, neither am I!” he replied.
We both let out another laugh that made my stomach hurt. But once it stopped, I dropped my smile. I felt a little dizzy and I was trying not to shake as the words came out of me, quietly but clearly.
“But you don’t understand…when I was married, I was loved by my husband only for the good parts of me. The sweet, proper lady who thought of others and never herself- a woman who was pure, good, and kind and Harry…I’m not that sweet or kind, not anymore.”
“No! You’re the kindest person I’ve ever met, Stella!”
“I mean it! I’m a monster, a villainess! A sinner!” I protested.
“Who isn’t a sinner!? What is it? Why do you think you’re a monster, Stella?” he asked.
I let out a sigh. I wanted to explode into pieces. I wanted almost to run. The moment had come to tell someone. Finally, finally, tell someone. The secret that could cost me my fragile life. The secret I kept for months and months.
“Well…I shall tell you. Do you swear...swear you will never tell…” I begged.
“Of course, not…”
“Prick your finger on my sewing needle and swear. I am choosing to confide something in you. Something dangerous. If you want to be my fiancée and husband, you must know this about me. You must consider what I really am before you even think of marrying me.” I warned.
“Alright, I will.”
I took out the sewing needle from my pocket and we both pricked our forefingers until a little circle of blood poked out. Then we used our handkerchiefs to press it in to keep the blood from spilling too much anywhere.
I knocked on the door and it opened to the nurse.
“Could we have that coffee and dessert brought to us, please?” I asked.
She nodded and then ran down the hall. Once she was at a safe distance and I was sure no one was around to listen, I closed the door. I leaned in close- his ear to my mouth.
“William’s death was not a suicide…” I whispered.
His eyes went large.
“You mean it was-“
I interrupted him.
“I asked him for a divorce. He said no. I asked him to end things with her. He said no. He was going to make me go back to Aldwinter to die as his angelic wife who would tolerate his betrayal with no thought for her own happiness.”
“I wonder if Will wanted a wife or a martyr!” Harry commented softly.
“I had only one option left…”
“You mean…you…you…”
“So, I put cyanide into his sherry and killed William Ransome myself, Harry. And the police never suspected a thing.”
Harry’s eyes darted around. The corners of his lips curved up to a shaky smile.
“So! The holy man poisoned by his own bloody sherry!” he said.
“Shhhh!” I urged him.
Scurrying back to the entrance, I opened the door again and saw no one was around. Letting out a sigh of relief, I returned to him and kept my voice low.
“Please tell no one!” I begged.
“Of course not!” he promised.
I shook my head and lowered my gaze to the floor.
“What do you think of me now, Harry? Am I…am I a monster to you? I will not hold you back or beg for you. I can understand not wanting to marry an evil woman,” I said.
“You’re not an evil woman, Stella,” he denied.
I blinked. My eyes went up to him. He walked close to me, then opened his arms. I walked into them, accepting the embrace. Warm, soft, gentle- I felt safe. I clutched onto his arms, and I felt him rock me back and forth slightly.
“Even…. even though I…” I was mumbling.
“No, not at all! You tried every other option. You did what you had to. In fact, it makes me admire you.” He whispered.
I paused to look up at his face.
“Admire? Why?” I asked.
“You chose to kill a bad man. When you’re a soldier, as I was, you are required to kill people you are told are bad. You must kill them for the greater good without question. You were a soldier, Stella. You killed for the greater good. Only you tried every option before you had to end a life. Not even soldiers in a battlefield have the luxury of other choices,” He answered quietly, right into my ear.
There was a knock on the door that made me jump and let out a small shriek.
“Here you are- the refreshments!” the nurse announced.
Harry laughed and opened the door, waving his hand to allow it in. The nurse brought coffee and two slices of buttermilk chess pie and set them on the table. We thanked her. Harry gave me my cup and we both took the first sip and then set it down.
“Harry…I cannot tell you how relieved I am that you still like me,” I confessed.
He took another drink with a smile.
“I don’t just like you, Stella, I love you.”
“And I love you too,” I finally said.
Then he got down to the floor on one knee and gently took my two bare hands, kissing them. I smiled as he spoke and had to keep myself from crying again, but tears of happiness this time.
“Stella Ransome…you are a woman as sweet as you are strong, beautiful as you are brave…you could have become a villain yourself from everything you had been forced to endure, but you did not. My Isabella of Valois who needed her deserved happiness. My little fairy, or maybe a little witch who happily put me under her spell. My princess with both a diamond diadem and a sword beneath her silks.”
I let out a little giggle and felt my face become warm, and not just from the comforting crackle of the fire.
“You are an inspiration to me, a comfort, and a constant. I promise and swear to you on my sore, bleeding finger, if you choose to marry me, I will be a faithful husband to you and give you and your children anything you will need.”
A little gasp went out of me in response, and I wiped my tears with my free hand. My heart was beating in my chest.
Maybe, just maybe…I would be stupid to deny the chance to secure my claim over my children as well as support myself. And maybe…just maybe…though I had been hurt by the love from a man, I forgot the joy and bliss of it. Not from bad men, but good men. A good man. A man who knew the worst of me and wanted me anyway. A man who likely- very likely!- would not toss me aside, as Will Ransome, the Vicar of Aldwinter had done.
Yes, there was a risk. That chance I could be proven wrong. But it was one I knew I could take.
“Yes, Harold Cavaradossi, I’ll marry you. But one more thing you must remember…”
I released a hand to gently touch the black cloth tied around his right arm.
“You…you could be a widower in a month, Harry.”
He took my hand in his and kissed it again. He looked at me with the sweetest, the most loving smile I had ever seen, and my heart was filled to the brim as he spoke.
“I would rather have a brief heaven with you than years of the hell I would be in without you.”
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Me: I'll be normal
My rapists linkedin page: oh yeah?
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Do you read Friends fanfic and if yes do you have any recommendations? :)
Absolutely!
It totally depends on what you yourself like to read. Most of the time I like to read fics about Mondler that fit into the canon of the show. I don't particularly care about Roschel, they get focused on enough during the show.
So here are some of my favourite Mondler stories (I've tried to give you as many different authors as possible and added links):
If you like missing canonical moments check these ones out:
The One Before They Become Mondler: A series of one-shots by Oldreruns about Pre-Mondler. This author has some really great stories, check them all out.
Chinese: Monica considers their new relationship. This one is by PaperSnowGhost who writes some really great one shots of missing moments, a lot of them from the secret relationship phase of Monica and Chandler's relationship.
The Last To Marry: Monica and Chandler friendship and comfort, brilliantly written by wdruffolo
An Evening At The Essex House: Chandler and Monica tell his mother about their relationship and its full of intimate moments written by Annie M1
TOW The Happy World Recipe: sweetness written by spiralnebulaM31. This author has this sophisticated but simple way of expressing themselves, with works that are both easy to read and so sweet.
Whatever It Is: Rachel realises what real love is, as given to us by SomewhereBeyondReality. This author has some really interesting things to say, especially about the way other characters react to Mondler.
Bamboozled: by simplymondler about a moment in season 8. Check out their other stuff, like A Picture of Happiness.
TOW The Pictionary Incident: Fafsernir writes a lot of great stories about preMondler and secret!Mondler. This is probably their most popular but they also write some really interesting stories about Chandler and his character.
That Thing Called Love: Cynthia Salander is an author that composes a lot of Mondler stories, this is the most recent and follows season 5 Mondler. Check out their other stuff too.
If you like post-series fics:
This Charming Life: Just a gorgeous little story by starbuckmeggie
Backyard Barbeque: A sweet little post-series moment by DailyStarGazer
Just Like You: some adorable parent/child interactions in this oneshot by Mondlerfan101 who writes a lot of interesting Mondler stories.
King of Everything: a wonderfully written snippet of life by Annie M1 about Monica watching Chandler play tennis as part of suburban life and its just damn near perfect.
Some great smut!fics:
Still On Lonon Time In New York: Part one of a beautifully written ongoing series about the thoughts, feelings, and sex lives of Monica and Chandler written by Babatomyfriends. Check out this author for some stories with really great character analysis. Their work should probably fall into missing moments, but the sex scenes are so hot.
Blurred Lines: Exactly what happened that night in London. And there are multichapter fics that follow as well. starbuckmeggie also writes canon-compliant oneshots but this story is electric.
TOW Chandler Gets Slapped: itsafour writes some really sweet canon-compliant Mondler fluff as well, but there's something about the smut fics they write that are just so accurate to the characters and hot to boot.
Taking Care of Business: C-Rokkk has a gorgeous hold on Mondler fics, writing fluff with really interesting points of intersection with the series. This is Mondler trying to make a baby.
Canon divergences and AUs:
Euphoria Unbound: Nora Bing can be very observant. This one is written by matteney who writes some really brilliant stories.
The One Where Rachel Meddles: another one by Oldreruns
What are the Chances: C-Rokkk writes some brilliant Mondler stories from all across the series. This is her latest, it deviated from where I thought it was going at about chapter 11 and I am so keen to discover what is going to happen next.
Release Me: monicourt has put a lot of research into this Mondler story set in Victorian London and it's just magic to read. It's ongoing and I eagerly await the next chapter.
I Call Baby: Check out this story by OldMondlerLover for a look at Mondler sweetness and Monica having a baby after TOW The Jam. But also look at some of their other stories, like Girl Crush, they're brilliant too.
TOW They Meet Online: brilliantly diverges from canon to have Mondler meet online. Another one by spiralnebulaM31.
Emails and Strangers: Not only a romance but some really interesting character analysis written by SomewhereBeyondReality.
Crushed: A look at Monica's crush on Chandler by simplymondler
The Space Between: CamilleCM normally writes canon-compliant stories about Mondler but this story is brilliantly written and different from any of the other stories written. Check out their other stories like Roomies.
The One With The Unfinished Business: By FictionWriter91 who also writes stories such as The One Where Monica Dates Kip which is also brilliant.
TOW The Janice Thing: brilliantly written by AEM77 takes place after Janice asks that question in season three and is sweet and hilarious and full of jealousy and love.
The One Where Monica Falls In Love: Thexa has a knack for rewriting that night in London and its always incredibly enjoyable to read, like The One Where Monica Only Wants Chandler.
It All Works Out In The End: jealousy and crushing and friendship written beautifully by woahmondler. Check out their other stuff too.
There's this one renaissance era story Phoebe tells the group about Mondler's past life and another arranged marriage in medieval England story that I'll have to find to add to this list because I loved those stories too.
This list is obviously extensive but clearly unfinished (I do read a lot of Fanfiction in general, and I know it would be customary to add my fanfiction page here to show you what I do read, but I have like 8,000 favourited stories so it wouldn't be that helpful). (But here it is anyway because I keep getting asks).
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blorbosondeck · 3 years
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fic rec masterlist
canon divergent/finale fix its
Anamnesis
THIS! FIC! this fic lives in my head rent FREE it is so good and it makes so much sense in the narrative that the shitty finale concocted, as to why they wouldn't mention cas or anyone else and its just. so good and they write chuck in the most villainous way that i love!!!
"Chuck is depowered, Jack is the new god, and the world is free. Dean and Sam get into the Impala and chase down the miles on an endless highway, and their story is finally, finally their own to follow. At least, that's what Dean tells himself. But the diners and motels and painted interstate lines are blurring together and the smallest details keep catching at his brain like tiny fishhooks and he can't quite shake the feeling that not everything is exactly as it should be. Fix-it/alternate series finale. Canon-compliant through the end of 15.19."
Sunset Sound: Stairway to Heaven by @adhdeancas
GOD FUCKING CHRIST this is so good and sweet and im such a sucker for team ups and reunions!!! its 3:30 am rn and i just finished it and i love it SO much it made me laugh a lot and the last few chapters i had the stupidest grin just plastered to my face
The Closer the Star, the Greater the Parallax by @rocksalts​
repressed bastard dean submits to the mortifying ordeal of being known and receives the rewards of being loved but only after some miscommunication i LOVE this i read it last night and it’s a fast favorite. my interests have overlapped and i am INTO it
“When Dean sits down to watch some bullcrap Discovery Channel episode with Cas, he doesn’t expect to actually learn anything. Except, with Cas explaining, he makes an effort to connect the dots.”
Don't We All Deserve To Be Happy?
VERY sweet and a VERY good pick me up. all around feel good fic!!! 
"Post-canon fix-it, divergent from 15x19 where Jack stays and Dean doesn't die and Cas comes back and everyone is happy. Take a shot every time I'm salty about the finale."
Keep Your Love Alive
okay. okay okay okay this may be my favorite finale fix it just because of how well reasoned it is. like this feels what should have happened i love it SO much
"Dean gets to spend eternity sharing beers with Bobby on the Roadhouse porch and riding around in his Baby with Sam. He’s at peace… or he feels like he should be. But a few things nag at him: Where is Cas, and everybody else Dean had been hoping to see in Heaven? Why does he feel like he’s stuck in a loop, reliving the same memories over and over again? And who are the strangers wearing Sam’s and Bobby’s faces?"
The GoldenRod Revisions by @aethylas​
this is one of the most well written things ive ever read. the script format DID make it feel more real and honestly? this is better writing than this show deserves. the finale that could have been ♥️
“A rewrite of Supernatural’s final two episodes, expanded into a five episode arc - in which Chuck needs to be defeated, Castiel deserves to be saved, and the characters in this story get a very different ending.“
Ascend by @wanderingcas​ 
THEE finale fix it fic!!! written by the AMAZINGLY skilled and talented @wanderingcas !!! it’s 50k of angst and hurt/comfort and pure bliss
“Something in the world is wrong.
Demon activity is rising where mysterious black substance oozes and unusual ecological events are shaking the world. Dean, grief hanging on his shoulders, restlessly searches for answers that might lead him to the Empty… and to Cas.
But what Chuck wrote can’t be undone. The narrative thread pulls Dean along, forcing him to comply. Because once a story already has an ending, it can’t be rewritten.
Or can it?”
Things Happen (They Do, And They Do, And They Do) by THEE @sobsicles
i KNOW everyone has already recommended this and likely you’ve all already read it. but it has to go here bc REPRESSIOOOOOOOOON i LOVE this so much it is one of the most perfect things i’ve read. are you bisexual? did you have a kind of weird relationship with your best friend and not realize that how you felt about them wasn’t necessarily how other people felt about them and you were maybe a little bit in love with them but were too repressed to realize it? you’ll feel seen. maybe a little too seen
Closer (isn't close enough)
are you a sweet and sappy yet horny bastard? do you like cas exploding light bulbs? you will like this.
“the one where they finally talk about what cas said before the empty took him”
You and Your Husband
it is exTRMELY sweet!!! repression dean strikes again <3
"Five times Dean corrects someone about his relationship with Cas, and one time he realizes he doesn't need to."
Tall Grass
miscommunication and a slowburn! despite being written in 2017 and finished in 2018, it feels like a fix it. ft. plant obsessed cas <3 
Invictus
a LOVELY and short (relatively) finale fix it
“They saved the world. They're free. It's done.
Except it's not, and carrying on is the last thing any of them are thinking about.
They still have someone they need to save.”
Unchained Link
post finale- it’s a great case fic and i am compelled i want more!!!
"It's after the end of things. Life continues on while Dean is "livin it up" in heaven. But it's never that simple, is it? A freak occurrence sends Dean into another time stranded back on Earth. And he thought his hunting days were over. But, no worries. His knight in shining armor comes to the rescue. Hijinks, therefore, ensue."
fun and time unspecified
Ladies and Gentlemen, This is Love Potion No. 5
very funny and sweet! miscommunication at its finest ♥️
"Cas gets drenched with a mystery potion from the ‘love spell’ shelf and... Dean has a sneaking suspicion, angel or no— the spell may have taken effect. And Cas might be in love with Sam."
The Way We Were
Y'all. It is so good its a great mix of funny and serious- extremely fun to see dean as like a base bisexual
"Dean and Castiel pose as a couple to gain access to a gated community known as 'The Glen', a pleasant if secretive location that the boys believe might be linked to several dead bodies showing up over the years bearing signs of ritualistic sacrifice. All seems well until Dean's memory is affected from an incident during a solo exploration, leaving Dean convinced that their cover story is true. Castiel is left trying to resolve their case without taking advantage of an increasingly enthusiastic Dean"
While You Were Sleeping
this is basically just the movie but replacing sandra bullock with cas. this is my comfort movie and imo, one of the most perfect rom coms. the fic isn’t finished but i still have the tab open on my phone and i will straight up go back and re read it when i need a pick me up. 
aus/rewrites
The Harvelle Gospels: Offscript
i know everyone ever ( @jewishcharliebradbury ) has recommended this fic. and for good reason go fucking read it
“The Apocalypse is averted, the angels are in Heaven, and Jo is free from the threat of possession. Somehow it couldn't be farther from a happy ending.“
absolute riots
An Ineffably Profound Bond
i honestly would have put this in the finale fix it section! look. i know. i know you've been burned by crossover fics before. but this is Thee good omens/spn fic you want. its funny as hell and immensely satisfying. im weak for everyone working together tropes and that is this
"After Chuck sets 'The End' in motion, the remaining members of TFW make a miraculous escape. Not willing to waste any time, Castiel comes up with a plan to travel to one of the other worlds to try and get help from the angels there, but after a fight with Dean, it's the hunter who gets sent into an alternate universe,with seemingly no hope of return.
When a mysterious human with a heavenly weapon shows up in Aziraphale's shop, he and Crowley learn that their world is not the only one. Now it is up to them to decide whether or not they want to join forces with the human and help him save his world or simply find a way to send him home."
Somebody Up There Likes Me by @lafilleredige
cas is hit with a spell that turns his vessel into a woman, hijinks and sexuality crises ensue etc etc sam is a supportive and bitchy little brother and its all SO fucking funny and also. horny as hell i love it i love it i LOVE it
“’Dean doesn’t want to talk about your breasts, it’s making him uncomfortable because he hasn’t acknowledged the complex fluidity of human sexuality.’“
Stray Cat Strut
a long crack fic that IS one of the funniest things i’ve ever read and i can’t explain why. it’s so ooc but its so funny that i don’t care. if you need a laugh you gotta read this
"Sam and Cas are immediately in love with the adorable kitty they find outside the bunker door, and occupy their time planning how to convince Dean--who they believe is off sulking after a botched hunt--to let them keep their cat. Along the way, Dean learns to use a litter box and hears some confessions he maybe wasn’t supposed to hear, all while realizing just how much he loves Castiel.
Now all Dean has to do is convince Cas and Sam their new pet cat is actually him before they do something crazy--like neuter him!"
canon compliant or slight canon divergence
Give
by @doublestuffedimpala post season 7 episode 7, kind of ambiguous ending but truly a cas is happy to bleed for the winchesters fic
Punch Like Bones 
short, post 5x04 homoerotic moment that i wish we’d gotten
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crystalirises · 3 years
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FundXD au thrid part? Maybe the final confrontation between Dreamxd and George? imagine George offering to take Fundy's place, but XD teases him because he obviously only loves Fundy now (before Mumza saves the day!! or whatever you had planned if you already had something in mind).
Not me accidentally posting it separately. But anyway, here's the third part! I'm sorry it took so long, hope you enjoy this.
But yeah anyway, please do take heed of the trigger warnings. This is probably now what I consider the darkest and the most uncomfortable one-shot I've written. Like in terms of themes, yeah I am just: oh wow I wrote this huh...
So yes, please do heed the warnings and do not read it if any of the the warnings make you uncomfortable.
TW: Forced Relationships, Forced Kissing, Forced Marriage, Possessive Behavior, Captivity, Implied Harm, and A Lot of Dark Implications
Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28886223/chapters/84740365
“A radiant day for a wedding, do you not think so, my fox?” If only the mattress could swallow him whole. He buried his face on the silken sheets, pressing the pillow to the top of his head, wondering if he could suffocate himself if he tried really hard enough. “Beloved? You’re quiet.”
He rolled his eyes, holding back the urge to scream.
After a moment, he felt the twist of vines against his ankle, gently pulling him away from underneath the covers. Fundy let himself be dragged, having learned the hard way that clawing at the bed to keep himself from getting dragged was a bad idea. He shuddered at the bad memory.
“My darling star, don’t you agree that today is a splendid day for our wedding?”
No, he did not agree. There was no day where he’d ever even consider marrying the god.
“I don’t feel well. Can we move the wedding?”
“Do not lie.” The room turned colder, the chill of ice piercing through his skin that he nearly buckled underneath the pain. Then in just a second, the cold was gone. He was still in his their bedroom, the sunshine filtering in through the glass-stained windows, bathing the room in a kaleidoscope of color. XD was holding him by the elbow, their spherical head never faltering in its cheery smile, if one can call it a smile. The god pulled him into their embrace, holding him with such warmth that Fundy wanted to cry. They shouldn’t be so comforting. “You are well.”
“Ya…” Fundy felt like throwing up, “...well…”
For a god who had lived as long as the world, XD was not as patient as Fundy had hoped. It had only been a week, but the god had given up on Fundy’s flimsy excuses. Fundy had used every excuse that he knew: headaches, fevers, coughs, even “fainting” that one time XD had actually gotten him to stand on the altar. They had grown tired of waiting. Fundy turned his head towards one corner of the room, their wedding outfits only seemed to mock him. He shivered within the god’s hot touch, XD didn’t seem to notice his discomfort, but they noticed the way he was staring at those, arguably, beautiful outfits. XD led him towards them, holding him by the arms.
“I could change your suit if you wish, anything for you, my fox.” Fundy paled, refusing to look at the suit now that it was in front of him. It was in a beautiful hue of orange pastel, decorated with a pastel green flower pinned to its chest. XD had chosen to wear a dress for the wedding, and if Fundy wasn’t being held there against his will, he might have even blushed at the thought of the god in a dress… walking down the aisle. It was a mostly white dress which faded into a pastel green in the middle and into a forest green at the bottom. “You could wear a dress if yo—”
“No.” Fundy already loathed the suit, he wouldn’t know what he’d do if he had to wear a dress. At least XD didn’t mind, though - and Fundy knew it was stupid to feel - he found it somewhat adorable that XD wanted to wear a dress. The wedding dress suited them, even if Fundy didn’t want to marry them. The god hummed behind him, a low sound that had no lyrical or musical tone to it whatsoever, before picking him up. He shrieked, holding tightly to the god’s shoulders.
“My dear fox, the wedding will be divine, it shall take place the hour between day and night.” Fundy had a few hours of freedom. Then… He clenched his hands, angered that he no longer had his claws to tear into the god’s skin. “The wedding venue has not changed from the last time we tried to marry, but, sweet fox, would you wish for any new changes? What do you wish for?”
His only wish was to go home.
The god leaned down and Fundy knew what was to come. He closed his eyes, letting the god do what they wanted. Maybe he should have heeded his papa’s advice. Maybe he shouldn’t have befriended the god who seemed too kind to be true. Maybe he should have stayed at home and lived a normal life instead of searching for… he didn’t even know anymore. But he knew he missed his home, he missed his dads. He missed the normal life in their little cabin in the fields.
Once the god leaned away from the kiss, Fundy let out a sigh. “I want cake.”
---
“Wil, I love you, but now is the time for your ritualistic shenanigans.”
George tapped his foot on the muddy ground, placing his head in his hands as Wilbur ignored him for the tenth time. Wilbur had refused to say what his secret was, in favor of showing what his secret was. If George had known that said secret would involve Wilbur drawing intricate symbols in the mud, George would have gone deeper into the forest on his own instead.
After a few more seconds of agonizing silence and waiting, Wilbur finally stepped back, gesturing for George to come near him. He raised a brow, choosing to stand beside Wilbur despite the nagging voice in his head telling him to leave and go look for their son. George took in the symbol that Wilbur had drawn. He’d traced a circle in the mud, and within the complex lines, George could make out five symbols. The lines merged to showcase a woman. In her right hand, she held a blade. In her left, there were musical notes and discs emerging from her palm.
At the bottom of the symbol, the lines converged to create a pair of angel wings.
“Wil, is now the time to show me that you can draw—” He cut himself off once Wilbur started to chant under his breath. He stepped back, doubt racing through his mind. George had never been interested in magic, being more talented in redstone and engineering, but he feared those who excelled in the practice. Magic meant gods, and gods meant double-edged deals. “Wilbur…”
The symbol began to glow a light gray hue, the smell of metal and death tainting the air. His fear doubled, but he didn’t try to run off. Nervous as he was, he trusted Wilbur, his dear husband.
A splash of cold landed on his cheek, he brushed it away, but then a downpour of rain began to fall around them. The ground turned muddier, nearly grasping onto their legs. George looked up, furrowing his brows at the sight of sunlight. It was raining despite the warm sun rays that were filtering in through the trees. The intricate symbol wasn’t affected by the sudden storm, its glow intensifying underneath the torrent of water. George didn’t know why, but he felt sick. A sickness that wasn’t nausea, it was worse. Like someone had taken a sharp pickaxe and started to chip away at his heart. He held a hand to his chest, grasping for Wilbur’s arm with the other.
Wilbur’s chanting had grown louder despite the rain, almost like he was fighting against the noise. The light gray glow had taken over the entire drawing, the lines scorched away by its brilliance. Then the world began to shake, and for a moment, George could hear screaming.
He slipped once the earth started to sink. Wilbur pulled him up just as the ground gave way, the symbol had caved in, going deeper and deeper until he could see bright red. He shuddered, but Wilbur held him close. He had half a mind to throw his husband an irritated glare. If his husband would stop with the theatrics for a moment and actually tell George what his secret was, then maybe he wouldn’t be second-guessing everything that's happening right now. He glanced back down at the hole. Wilbur had just opened a gateway to the underworld. Despite the red lights of the underworld, the chasm let out a chilling cold that seeped deep into George’s skin and soul.
“You’re a hellspawn, is that the secret? If so, it was not much of a secret I already knew that, Mr. Soot.” Wilbur rolled his eyes, pressing a kiss to George’s cheek. Once Wil had left George on stable ground, he watched as his husband walked close to the chasm. Wilbur reached down a hand. George wondered if Wilbur was asking to get kidnapped. “Wilbur, the dead can’t help us.”
“You’re correct. Zombies are pretty shit at… everything. Skeletons… perhaps.”
George took a breath through clenched teeth. He knew Wilbur was worried about Fundy too, but he couldn’t afford to waste anymore time with Wilbur and his shenanigans. XD had taken their son, a wish god had taken their son and George knew the god would refuse to let Fundy go.
“Wilbur, please. We need to find Fundy. XD would do anything they could to keep our son from ever leaving them, we have to go.” He pleaded, but Wilbur was too busy looking into the chasm.
George loudly sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. The rain continued to pour around them, and if he didn’t hurry, he’d lose his way down the forest path due to the mud that was beginning to drown everything in its path. He turned to leave, but then a voice broke through the silence.
“A sunshower…? Did you forget to tell your own mum that you're getting married, Wilbur?”
---
Fundy flitted about the room, pressing his hands against his ears as the rain continued to pour outside. He didn’t know why XD had thought it would be romantic to marry one another while a storm threatened to destroy the land, but the constant tapping of the rain on the ground was beginning to grate on his ears. Despite the heavy rain, he hated the warm sunlight even more.
Why couldn’t the weather just be either gloomy or happy? It was a mockery of his life.
He glanced down at his suit, fixing the green flower so it wouldn’t fall off by accident. He didn’t know what XD would do if anything were to ruin their “special day.” He huffed, pressing his head against the glass window. He could see the neverending forest from there. XD had insisted that they live on one of the highest trees in the forest. They wanted to give Fundy a good view.
When XD had first shown him their abode, Fundy had been ecstatic to see the entire forest. He collapsed on a nearby chair, putting his head in his hands. Now everything felt like a big joke.
It was so wonderful before, but he saw through the roses, and now knew their thorns.
He looked back up, worried for a moment that XD would be standing in front of him, ready to whisk him away to the altar. There was a shift of movement at the right side of the forest, perhaps XD reimagining the wedding venue now that the rain had completely ruined the god’s chosen outdoor setting. He took momentary pleasure at the thought of the weather going against the god’s wishes. No, today was not a radiant day for a wedding. But Fundy knew that a “little” storm wouldn’t stop the god. They were too excited, too eager to get the ceremony over with.
Fundy winced, maybe his constant escape attempts had been the cause of that rush. It had only been a week since the god had taken him captive and kept him in their domain, but Fundy had spent every day trying to find a way to escape. He’d given up after the fifth escape… after… Fundy pulled his knees close to his chest. He didn’t want to think about it. But he had to. He had to keep a reminder in his mind about how much he loathed the god and what they’d done to him.
The first attempt wasn’t even an attempt, it was him screaming until XD forced him to sleep.
The second attempt had begun the moment the god had gone into stasis, or the godly equivalent of what was sleep. The god’s hands were wrapped around Fundy, keeping him close to their chest, but Fundy had managed to sneak away after hours of slowly moving. He’d gotten to the door of the bedroom, unlocking it with a bobby pin that he’d found in one of the drawers. He’d gotten down the tree by the time XD realized he was gone. They’d teleported him back to the bedroom, vines growing against the surface of the door, effectively keeping him locked inside.
The third attempt was Fundy painstakingly cutting through the clump of vines after XD had left him to prepare for their wedding. He’d gotten through half of them by the time the god had come back. They’d been disappointed in Fundy, sad that he hadn’t even gotten dressed in his wedding suit yet. Then in a blink of an eye, the vines had grown back, with even more thorns than before. Then XD had whisked him away to the wedding venue, where Fundy then pretended to faint.
The fourth attempt was Fundy getting so frustrated that he took a chair and threw it at one of the windows. The glass shattered on impact, and he’d quickly tried to squeeze through the space, not caring for the shards that pierced his skin. XD had not taken that escape attempt all too lightly.
The fifth and last attempt… he’d convinced XD to give him some sand and gunpowder.
The god had been furious, even more so than what they’d been after the fourth escape attempt. Fundy had nearly killed himself in the process and had even attacked XD out of anguished rage.
Well… XD made sure Fundy could never attack them again.
Fundy sniffed, wiping at his tears. He didn’t want to be crying at his own wedding.
---
It was odd to have a wedding without a wedding officiator. Fundy kept his gaze on his hands, his fingers trembling each time XD traced his knuckles with their thumb. He could feel his throat dry up, his head heavy with nausea that he thought he was actually going to faint and fall over.
“Do I take Fundy Lore-Soot as my lawfully wedded husband?” XD paused, “I do.”
Fundy found it ridiculous. XD had taken up the mantle of wedding officiator, and if Fundy didn’t know any better, he would think that he was part of some comedic play or some big cosmic joke.
“And do you, Fundy Lore-Soot, take the god of wishes, XD, as your lawfully wedded spouse?”
Fundy gritted his teeth, he could feel the god’s magic in his throat. He could barely breathe a few seconds ago, but now it felt like he needed to speak like his life depended on it. “I do. I do. I do.”
He trembled, uncontrolled anger racing through his veins. It was torture to say ‘I do’ once, but the god forced him to say it three times, like Fundy was as desperate as them to get married. XD pulled him close, their gaze hot against his skin. He wished he would melt, that he could melt against the god’s touch and be swallowed by the grass. Anything that could set him free.
“Then by the power vested in me as the god of wishes, I now pronounce us married for eternity.”
The god leaned close, “I may now kiss the groom.” Fundy tried to move back, but the god had formed one more pair of hands. One hand held his hands, curled gently around his wrists. One hand was cupping him by the waist. One hand was on his chin, pulling his face up and towards them. The last hand was at the back of his head, pushing him forward and keeping his head in place. He closed his eyes, losing himself in his mind, refusing to accept what was happening. He focused on the life he’d lost, and his dads who would no doubt why he never came back to them.
After what felt like a lifetime, the god finally let him go.
Well, they didn’t. But they’d stopped kissing him in favor of picking him up.
XD laid him down on the altar.
Fundy blinked, holding onto one of XD’s hands out of fear. The god chuckled at the “endearing” display. “H-hey… the wedding’s over, ya? Time to head home, right? W-what are you doing?”
“The ceremony is not yet over, my star.” XD tilted their head, “You are still mortal.”
Any thread of cooperation they had established broke with that proclamation. Fundy screamed, pushing himself away from the altar just as a series of golden chains rose up from its sides. They wrapped around his arms and his legs, pulling him back down on the altar’s marble surface. He wailed, tears slipping past his eyes. He thought he’d only endure it for this lifetime, that the god would have no choice but to give him up to death at some point in the future. XD watched his struggle, summoning an intricate dagger. “Don’t worry, my sweet fox, I shall make it painless.”
“I OBJECT!”
---
George pushed past the leaven doors, not caring that the action caused the whole entrance way to collapse to a flimsy pile of autumn leaves. He stood at the end of the wedding venue, drenched from the rain. His heart beated loudly in his chest, his ears ringing as he made his way down the aisle. Wilbur was still by the entrance. George had told him to wait before he actually entered.
“Papa—” Fundy’s scream was cut off with a hand, the god having swiveled around to face whoever had dared to ruin their perfect day. George kept walking down the aisle, anger racing through his bones. His son looked so frightened. He clearly didn’t want to be marrying the god.
“Let him go, XD.”
“Why ever shall I do such a thing, my dearest friend, Georgenotfound? I have no intention of ever letting my newly wedded husband leave me. My old friend, I believe you are a few seconds too late. Fundy and I are married.” He heard Fundy scream out a protest, muffled by the hand that the god had left. George could see the tears on their son’s face, and his gaze turned towards the dagger that the god was carrying. He took the chance to look behind him, catching Wilbur’s pale gaze. His husband was looking at the dagger. “Leave before I cast you out. You are tresp—”
“I’ll take his place.”
The only sound that could be heard was Fundy’s fit of screaming. Wilbur was silent. XD had merely tilted their head, the god’s cold gaze meeting George’s eyes, piercing right through the goggles that he wore. He swallowed down the sickness he felt at the thought of marrying the go. XD had been his best friend once, and George had never thought of them in any other way. But the god had taken his friendship as romantic affection. “Fundy doesn’t love you.” The god reeled back, the ‘XD’ carved symbol on their head disappearing, only to return as golden chains that surrounded their white spherical head. “You and I know he doesn’t love you, and neither did I.”
George shook his head, “But I am willing to stay with you if you let him go.”
He met his son’s eyes, holding Fundy’s gaze for as long as he could. He worried it might be the last time they’d ever see each other again… if it went wrong… George shook his head. It won’t go wrong. He turned back to the god, the chains still present. “We could pretend like nothing has changed. I could stay here with you for all of eternity. We could be friends again, you and I. It must have been lonely when I left. You were never really great with making friends with others. We could try again. Just you and me, stuck in this forest forever. Like how it used to be. I won’t run away anymore. I won’t leave you ever again. Let Fundy go, and I’ll stay with you forever.”
The god was silent. For a moment, George thought they would agree. Then the ground disappeared from underneath him and a large hand was painfully gripping him by the leg. “No.”
Sharp cold pierced through his leg. The god glared down at him, “You are nothing to me.”
XD looked over at Fundy, “He… He is everything to me now.”
George placed his arms over his head, preparing himself for the fall. He heard the loud screech, and then his leg was free. He closed his eyes, but instead of hard earth, he fell into a pair of warm arms. He opened his eyes, embarrassingly laughing once he’d realized that Wilbur had caught him. His husband placed him back down, looking at his leg with worry when George stumbled. It wasn’t broken, but XD’s sharp cold magic would keep him from properly walking for a while.
Wilbur helped him away from the angered god. George looked up, watching as the hand that was previously holding him rotted away. XD screeched, turning to them, their golden chains glowing with a blinding light. A scythe appeared within view, striking the wish god right on their face.
The Goddess of Death entered the wedding venue, a disappointed look in her eyes.
“You should have let my grandson go, God of Wishes.”
=============================================================
Ambiguous ending but uh... I have preferred ending and it's def not the bad one.
Clarification for the title (which can't be seen here but is in the ao3 version): So a sunshower is a weather phenomenon where it is raining despite there still being sunshine. While the rain is not as heavy as a storm, I changed the rain here to be that like a rainstorm despite the sunlight that is still present. The reason for this is because where I'm from (or at least according to my mother) when a sunshower happens, that means a kapre and a white lady are getting married (or well, other Filipino mythological legends are getting married).
I just think with XD here being a somewhat monster of a god... well, poor Fundy having to marry him.
The sunshower is basically an indication here that a god is getting married, that's why Mumza asked Wilbur if he was getting married (also Wilbur is the god of music here, not all that powerful against a wish god).
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onlydreamofmysoul · 3 years
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Let Them Eat Cake: The Final
We made it! I want to thank you guys so so much for the fantastic support you've given this story, it means the world to me. Bake Off has a special place in my heart and so does this fic, so its been so great to share it with you all!
(Links to all previous chapters can be found pinned on my page under 'Let Them Eat Cake' or pop over to my AO3 - link in bio)
Without further ado, I give you... The Final!
This week on the final of The Great British Bake Off…
“It looks like you’re having a smashing time.”
“Tell us about your first kiss.”
“And the winner is…”
Remus Lupin was having a nice morning.
There had been nothing of interest to note, however he didn’t have an alarm blaring and he was warm and snuggly, so all in all, he took it as a win.
Until one Lily Evans took it upon herself to sneak into his room and throw herself on him like she was a kid on Christmas morning.
“Finals, finals, finals!” She exclaimed, managing to find a tone that was somehow both singing and chanting all at once.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” Remus groaned, covering his eyes with his forearms. “Can I go back in time and just never apply to this fucking competition?”
Lily rolled off him, her big green eyes staring at him concerned. “What's the matter? Do you not want to be here?”
Remus peeked out at her. “No, I don’t want you to be here.” He smirked as she rolled her eyes, flopping back on the pillows next to him.
“Asshat.” She grumbled, hitting his shoulder with a light ‘thwack’. “I was worried for a sec.”
Remus grinned at her and then stared up at the ceiling for a long moment, only the sounds of their breathing and his heartbeat in his ears to keep him company.
Finals, they had made it to the finals.
He still couldn’t quite believe it. “Welcome to the finals.” McGonagall had said to him just before he left the tent, the words playing over and over again in his head, as clear as if she had said them yesterday.
(Which in fact, she had. This was the first time Remus would go to the practice tent and Tonks wouldn’t be there, but there was still an undeniable elation blossoming in his chest).
Five days until filming resumed. Six until the winner was announced. It didn’t seem real.
(But if this were a fantasy, Remus never wanted to return to reality).
“So where’s Sirius on this fine morning?” Lily asked, breaking the silence. Remus turned his head to look at her, completely relaxed and sinking into the bed. It would seem his lazy morning mood had seeped into her instead of her vibrant energy going to him.
“We’re not together every night.” He said, looking at the freckles splashed across her nose. They were darker now than they had been when they arrived. “We’re taking things slow.”
Lily just stared at him sceptically.
“It’s true!” He defenced. “We are!”
“You’re such a bad liar.”
“Am not!”
“Are too!”
Remus groaned and smacked her with a pillow. Victory.
“You never answered the question.” Lily said, muffled under the cushion. Or maybe victory had another champion in mind.
“Okay yes, he’s here most nights, but it doesn’t feel fast.” He defended, and it was true. Somehow it felt almost like they had known each other forever and yet still there was the thrill and excitement that came with everything being so new.
“It doesn’t seem fast either.” Lily reassured. “Maybe for others it would be, but I think it’s right for you two.”
Remus let out a little breath of relief. He hadn’t been worried exactly, but his thoughts had slipped in that direction a few times. More than anything, he just worried about scaring Sirius off, while still feeling secure in himself? Remus really didn’t know, the emotion centre of his body was really sending out mixed signals these days.
He had just decided to say fuck it to logic and stick to how he felt. And he felt good. Really good.
“Not that this little revelation wasn’t nice,” Lily said, “But you still haven’t answered the question I asked. Little tip? If this baking thing doesn’t work out, definitely don’t become a spy. If you were captured you’d accidentally reveal all the information without them even having to ask you.”
Remus groaned. “I hate you. He and James were hanging out last night.”
Lily grinned, satisfied and gave Remus another little shove. “Okay, come on I wanna go bake.”
“You’d think you’d have enough baking for a lifetime.” Remus grumbled but he got up all the same. In actuality, now that he was awake, Remus too was buzzing to get into the tent and get to work. “What’re you planning for this week?” He asked as he threw on a pair of jeans and a hoodie, having taken a shower the night before.
“I can’t give away my secrets!” Lily teased, holding open the door as Remus grabbed his key and they both swept out of the room and down the plush carpeted corridor.
“You are aware I’m gonna find out either way right? Cause if you still haven’t grasped that concept then I’m a little worried to be-”
“Oh hush,” Lily laughed, pressing her palm to Remus’ mouth. “I’m still not a hundred percent sure to be honest.”
They stepped outside, the cool crisp air falling over them, revitalizing them. Remus tucked his hands into his pockets and felt his shoulders hunch a little. His lungs liked the cold, the rest of his body - not so much.
“I’m not sure if I know what I’m doing either.” He admitted. “I have a few ideas, but none of them feel quite right, you know?”
Lily nodded as they reached the practice tent, pulling open the door. “Yeah I think that’s my issue too. There’s suddenly so much pressure and nothing I consider seems to be good enough.”
Remus sighed as he pulled two aprons off the hooks and tossed one to Lily. “I suppose we’ll have to figure it out.” He said, before taking out the recipe cards he had brought with him and began flicking through them for inspiration.
Five days. He could do this.
“Well, well, well, look who we have here.” Remus said with a grin as he trod through the grass, rounding the big oak tree to see Sirius waiting on their swing.
“I know,” Sirius drawled. “It’s almost like we planned it.”
Remus smiled, sitting by his side, holding the rope in one hand as he held out a Tupperware encased offering. “Want some cake?”
Sirius took the box gladly, his hair tied up but the wind had claimed a few loose strands, whipping them around his face like a dark halo. “Always. What kind?”
Remus tucked one foot into his chest, resting his cheek on his knee as he studied the other man. “Try it and find out.”
Sirius' lips quirked at Remus’ teasing tone, looking at the deep brown colour that really could only be one flavour. “Elderflower?” He joked.
Remus laughed and took a bite himself before holding out to Sirius. “Yes,” He said, completely deadpan. “That’s exactly what it is.”
Sirius smiled and kissed him, biting his lip as he pulled away. “You taste like chocolate.”
Remus flushed. “Don’t you mean elderflower?”
Sirius chuckled, rocking the swing a little more, tilting his head back to look at the twisting branches above them. “Look,” He murmured, pointing to a clump of twigs high in the tree. “A bird's nest.” Remus followed his line of sight and watched as a bird swooped overhead and landed in it gracefully.
“That was kinda cool.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t shit on us.”
“Sirius!” Remus exclaimed, elbowing the other man as he laughed. “Let’s hope your hair can take the hit and shield us.”
“Oi! My hair is what should be protected at all costs, it’s a national treasure. You know, I think I should replace you with Tonks, she knows the importance of hair care.”
Remus smiled, resting his head on Sirius’ shoulder, the fabric of his jacket soft against his cheek. “Tell me something I don't know about you.”
The wind whipped through the branches, but Remus wasn’t cold pressed up against Sirius. The tree sheltered them from the worst of it and the weather was slowly getting a little warmer, daffodils springing up all around the tent. There were many things Remus had always wanted but never saw himself actually achieving. Coming to bake off was one. Making it to the final was another. And perhaps the most notable - finding someone who might love him as much as he loved them. And yet, here he was with all three.
“When I was a kid, I used to want to be a dog so bad, I was always getting in trouble for wearing holes in my pants because I would crawl instead of walking normally. I even refused to answer to ‘Sirius’.”
“Oh yeah?” Remus asked, amused. “What was your alter ego’s name then?”
He could hear Sirius’ smile even if he couldn’t see it. “Padfoot. He was this big black dog. I got the idea after I read about ‘The Grimm’ in one of my cousin’s books and I guess it kind of stuck.”
“Padfoot,” Remus repeated, unable to stop himself. “I like that.”
“Your turn,” Sirius urged, nudging Remus lightly. “Tell me something I don’t know about you.”
Remus’ heart fluttered, stomach rolling a little, he had news for Sirius, and had honestly engineered the entire conversation just to tell him, but now that the moment was here, he was getting nervous.
“I’ve been offered a job in London.”
Sirius froze under Remus’ cheek. “In London?”
“Yeah.”
“London, England?”
Remus chuckled as he sat up to look at Sirius’ stunned face, grey eyes wide, lips parted. “Yes, London, England.”
Sirius blinked. “But I live in London.”
Remus pursed his lips, trying not to smile too much. “I’m aware of this, yes.”
“You… we… we’d be living in the same country. In the same city.”
“That’s what I’m saying.”
“Remus motherfucking Lupin, that's the best thing I’ve heard all week.”
“Your flour is about to tip over.” Tonks commented, carelessly filing her nails over facetime as Remus ran around his station, trying to do several things at once.
“Oh my god Lupin, you’re a disaster, how did you even get into this competition?” Tonks teased as Remus caught the flour but promptly dropped it on the flour, a white cloud erupting, coating everything in a two meter radius in powder.
“Not very helpful.” Remus grumbled as he shook flour out of his hair and grabbed a cloth to wipe down the counter.
“I wasn’t trying to be helpful.” Tonks paused and looked at the recipe Remus had sent her. “You’re gonna need at least double the vanilla extract than what you have there.” Remus grabbed the recipe and looked it over, seeing she was right. “See?” Tonks said gleefully as Remus scratched out the original amount. “That was me being helpful.”
Remus rolled his eyes, but blew her a kiss, wiping the dusty screen of his phone which had not escaped the great flour disaster.
“Come on,” He said as he walked with his phone to the store room, as if Tonks had any other choice than to accompany him. “We’re gonna get some more flour.” He set his phone down on a shelf as he looked for the right flour, Tonks chatting away. If Remus closed his eyes he could almost pretend she was right there with him, the pair of them practising for whatever challenges they were soon to face.
“So where’s Lily on this fine evening?” Tonks questioned. “Don’t you two usually practice together around now?”
“Yeah,” Remus grunted as he picked up his phone, tucking it under his chin with his hands full. “But she was busy tonight.”
“No fucking way, she’s with James?”
“Well, I don’t know for sure.” Remus admitted, “But she sounded pretty suspicious.”
“Ooh.” Tonks gasped and Remus began carefully measuring flour and continuing where he left off. “All the Bake Off love this year.”
Remus laughed as he folded in his sugar, putting the batter in the oven before beginning to prepare the icing. “Oh hush you.”
Tonks just winked, sticking out her tongue. “You know you love me.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased as punch to welcome you to this year's Great British Bake off; the final!”
Sirius groaned, head tipping back at James’ enthusiastic introduction. “You did not just say ‘pleased as punch’.”
James feigned being hurt, placing a hand over his heart. “What would you prefer? Pleased as pudding? Pleased as pie?”
Sirius looked straight into the camera, his face blank but his amused eyes giving him away. “Someone please give me a new co-host, I can’t take this anymore.”
James laughed as he threw an arm over Sirius’ shoulder, the two of them easing the nerves of everyone in the tent tenfold. “Don’t worry Sirius darling, you haven’t got too long left with me because, like I said, we’ve reached the final!”
Remus smiled, hiding the hands he was wringing together under the table. It was the weirdest feeling - he was at once completely calm and so incredibly nervous. He couldn’t help but giggle at the antics of the infamous marauders and recalled that morning, lying in bed when Sirius had queried how much bullshit he’d be able to spout without any prior preparation. Remus had told him to go get ready but had promptly led them to activities that were in no way helpful to the rest of the day's events.
(It had been a good way to start the day though).
McGonagall and Dumbledore stood at the front of the tent, looking out at the eerily empty work stations, only three now filled. Remus and Lily were in the front two and Kingsley had come up to slot in behind Lily.
“We have a very exciting two days lined up,” Sirius said as he clasped his hands together, a natural in front of the cameras. Our bakers have no overall theme, so we’re going to get to see a little splash of everything!”
“For our signature challenge, our bakers have been asked to bake something that fits in with the theme of ‘final’’.” James said, taking his turn to speak again. “It can be anything from a cake inspired by the final book in a series or the last thing you had to eat, because tonight, there are no limits other than your imagination.”
Remus snorted and Sirius’ eyes found his as he elbowed James lightly. “Dramatic much.” He drawled before rubbing his hands together gleefully. “Are you ready?”
“On your marks,”
“Get set.”
“Bake!”
Remus hadn’t realised how much he would miss Tonks in the tent. He had missed her all week, but it wasn’t as if they ever had much chance to chat while they were filming, so he had thought it would be a little easier. But the tent was unusually quiet without her clattering at her station, inevitably breaking at least one piece of crockery per challenge.
“It’s too quiet,” Lily murmured, echoing Remus’ thoughts. “I almost feel like we’re not allowed to talk.”
Remus chuckled, remembering exams in home economics when he had been in secondary school and the teacher who would happily dole out zero marks if she so much as saw your lips move.
He grinned, taking a bowl he didn’t need from his station and ‘accidentally’ dropping it on the ground, the ceramic splitting with a loud crack.
“Oops!” He said loudly, glad he hadn’t ever tried to go into the theatre business, he was truly a terrible actor, and ran to grab a broom, not without winking at Lily who blew him a kiss.
“Much better, thanks!” She yelled after him and he just chuckled, disposing of the broken bowl, but not without slipping a shard into his apron pockets to take home with him as a little reminder.
Sirius meandered over after a little while as Remus put a tin in the oven to cook the soon-to-be sponge fingers for his tiramisu.
“You seem to be having a smashing time.” Sirius teased, his eyes alight.
“James already made that joke a few weeks ago.” Remus said laughing as he poured double cream into a bowl. “It’s really not that funny.”
Sirius just stuck out his tongue and moved to the next station, but Remus knew that had it been just the two of them, it was far more likely that Sirius would have taken much offence to the attack on his sense of humour, and a good snog would have been needed to make up for it.
James arrived no sooner than Sirius had left, peering into the bowl of ingredients that Remus was whipping, looking very much like he was contemplating dipping his finger in for a taste.
Marlene arrived, camera on her shoulder, surveying Remus’ station, sceptically watching Remus grate his dark chocolate.
“So Remus,” She began, fiddling with the lens to zoom in on his hands. “What has tiramisu got to do with the ‘final’ theme?”
“Well,” He said, suddenly feeling shy, wishing he didn’t have to explain. “Tonks, Andromeda Tonks, that is, had been planning to make a tiramisu for this episode, but she unfortunately was eliminated last week, so instead I’m making it.”
Some of the crew members cooed softly and Remus rolled his eyes, even as he blushed. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m a big softie.” He glanced at Marlene once, smirking, then returned to his work, “Now fuck off and let me get on with it.”
“One of these days, Remus motherfucking Lupin,” Marlene grumbled as she walked away, not before snagging a square of chocolate to munch on, “One of these days I’m going to get you back.”
Remus’ dish was made pretty quickly, the most important part was leaving it in the fridge for as long as possible, so as soon as he had carefully layered the sponge and cream and chocolate of course, he set the fridge to the lowest temperature and put the big dish in. He had an idea of how he wanted to present it, but that all depended on whether or not it would be set properly.
He cleaned his station and set up everything he needed for when the dessert was set, but that only took ten minutes. Watching Lily and Kingsley rush around their stations while Remus had nothing left to do made him feel like he was back in school, the horrid panic of completing a test, thinking it was easy, then looking up to discover everyone else was still working intently. He put himself to work to avoid the fluttering in his chest, different to the loved up buzz he had been experiencing recently, no this tightness was more akin to the ‘oh no have I had ten shots of espresso’ variety. Remus wasn’t the biggest fan.
He made tea for the crew, including the judges and presenters, checked the progress of his dish, then made himself walk away from the fridge, lest he open it too often and slow down the cooling process. He chatted with Lily a bit while she worked and did an interview with James and Sirius, some more filler content now that there weren’t nearly as many bakers to keep up with, but the airing time of the show hadn’t changed.
“Need a hand?” He offered, turning to Lily who was crouched by her oven, gazing intently at her cake. “Nah I’m good.” She said, not looking up, “I don’t have anything to do until this little guy is cooked.”
“They never tell you how much waiting around there is.” Remus groaned, hopping up on his worktop. “I have been just sitting here for the best part of over an hour and I bet none of this is going to make the final cut.”
“You’d be right there!” Marlene chimed in, passing them on her way to video whatever complicated technique Kingsley was currently demonstrating. Remus raised an eyebrow at Lily, sighed and jumped off the counter. “I’m gonna check on my cakes now, thank you very much.”
Remus both loved and hated how there was no official ranking for the first challenge. He definitely loved it on days where he hadn’t done very well and didn’t want his failings it be broadcasted even more than they already had been, but today, with only three contestants left and the competition tangible, he wanted to know how much more impressive his next two bakes were going to have to be.
He supposed it didn’t really matter - he was going to do his very best no matter what.
Lily had made a cake shaped like a knitted hat, the piping terrifyingly realistic, in commemoration of the last hat her grandmother had made before she passed away. Kingsley had a coffee flavoured graduation cap to honour his girlfriend who was in her final year of college.
“We’re a bunch of sentimental saps.” Lily muttered to them both as they all walked out of the tent to go for lunch, the judges' praises ringing in their ears. They all seemed to be standing on equal footing for now.
“I know,” Remus groaned, throwing himself down on the grass under the sun. “I should have just done like, the final countdown or something.”
“Tonks is never gonna let you live this down.” Kinsley piped in.
“God, don’t remind me. I might just have to kill her before the episode airs, you know, save my reputation and all.”
“Oh, a spot of murder, how lovely.” James chirped as he and Sirius arrived, having been sent to retrieve all of their lunches, the three bakers claiming that they were too tired and as they always fed everyone else, it was time to switch it up.
James passed out sandwiches, pulling them from a bag, while Sirius handed Remus a salad.
Remus kissed Sirius on the cheek, “Thanks sweetheart.”
It took Remus a moment to realise what he had done, a moment more to remember that it was only Kingsley who hadn’t already known about their relationship. Kingsley who was looking very nonchalant and in no way surprised.
“Oh,” He said between bites, looking at Remus and Sirius’ panicked looks. “Was this meant to be a secret?”
Remus just burst out laughing, any tension that had appeared, vanishing in seconds. “I suppose we’re not very good at hiding it, huh?”
“Oi, speak for yourself.” Sirius jostled as he unwrapped his sandwich. “I’m an excellent secret keeper.”
“Alright everybody, welcome to the technical challenge of this year’s final!” James reintroduced them, everyone having returned to their stations, fresh aprons tied around their waist and judges standing at the top of the room watching over the proceedings.
“For our last technical challenge, the judges are asking you to make a classic sponge cake, but with a little twist.”
Remus eyed the mysterious pile of ingredients under the cloth on his table. He both loved and hated that blue and white gingham pattern, hated it because he wasn’t the biggest lover of surprises, and loved it because… well, because it was cute.
(Not every answer was super deep. The Pinterest boy in him was in love with the entire aesthetic of The Great British Bake Off).
“Our lovely judges have also requested that you make at least twelve meringue kisses to top your sponge cake.”
Remus raised his eyebrows in surprise - it wasn’t like the judges to add anything to something as classic as a sponge cake, but who was he to question? This was the final, anything was possible.
James and Sirius chattered on for a few more minutes, and then they were off, the three contestants whipping off their gingham cloths like a magician unveiling his assistant. Remus barely glanced at the vague recipe before setting off to make the meringues first. Their small size was deceptive and that’s why Remus thought the judges had included them - but they would take the most time to bake and cool.
He set about whipping egg whites and sugar as Marlene arrived by his side, taking a moment just to pan the camera over everything he was doing.
“Meringue kisses,” Marlene said, with a smug sounding tone. “Such a cute name. Go on Remus, tell us about your first kiss.”
Remus laughed, caught off guard, nearly spilling the extra sugar he was adding to the bowl. “Alright, which first kiss do you want to hear about? Cause technically I have a few.”
Marlene giggled with him and Remus felt like he was a schoolgirl, chatting about boys and kisses, like they were the beginning and end of everything. “The very first one.”
Remus could help but laugh again, shaking his head fondly at the memory. “It was awful.” he said, chuckling to himself. “I was thirteen and I kissed this girl called Mary on a dare.” He paused to look at the camera more directly. “Mary if you’re watching this, I’d apologise but we both know I’m right. That was a shit kiss.”
Remus grinned as he realised Marlene was going to let that explicative slide for the purpose of the story. Victorious at last.
“What about your other ‘first’ kisses.” Marlene prompted, overall looking thoroughly delighted by the stories. Remus paused for a moment to stop his mixer and run a spatula around the edge of the bowl to ensure everything was mixing well, before turning the mixer back on and stepping back.
“Well my first kiss with a boy was a year later and since my previous make-out experience consisted of the one kiss you already know about, I think it’s fair to say; that was pretty crap too.” He grinned at Marlene and started measuring the butter for his cake. “But it did solve the whole ‘sexuality crisis’ thing I had going on, so that was fun.”
He deemed his meringue mix whipped-enough so he carefully spooned batches into an icing bag and began piping tiny amounts onto a baking sheet.
“Then I suppose, there’s your first kiss with someone who really matters,” He said carefully, not looking up from his work. “With the person who’s so amazing that every kiss feels a little bit like the first one. Kinda makes you feel like every other kiss you’ve ever had was just practice for this exact moment.”
Remus was aware that his cheeks were a little pink, but then again, when were they not?
“And you’ve found that person?” Marlene asked softly, as Remus piped his last little swirl. He didn’t have to think about it, but he did suppose he should tell the person in question before quite literally broadcasting it to the nation. So instead he just winked.
“Sirius,” Remus said softly, later that night as they lay in bed, a movie playing in the background, Remus’ adrenaline still high from winning the technical challenge. “I know it’s early, so I'm not expecting anything back but since I might have just heavily implied it on national television I figured I should probably tell you that I’m in love with you.”
Sirius’ head didn’t move from Remus’ chest, instead he reached out and grabbed Remus’ free hand, pressing his knuckles to his soft lips. “I know.”
“You do?” Remus asked incredulously, trying (and failing) not to splutter.
Sirius chuckled, his voice deep. “Yeah, you said it in your sleep last night. Plus, I watched over the footage from today and I saw.”
Remus blushed. “Oh.”
Sirius twisted in his arms so Remus could finally see his eyes. They were sparkling and a playful smile twisted on Sirius’ lips.
“I love you too, you know.” Sirius said casually, as if commenting on the weather. Remus let his head drop back onto the pillow as a whoosh of relief escaped his mouth. Sure he hadn't expected to have Sirius say it back but this feeling was like nothing he had ever experienced before.
“Well no, I didn’t, actually.” Remus quipped, much to the ceiling’s amusement. “But it’s good to know.”
Suddenly Sirius was leaning over him, his hair falling around their faces like a dark curtain. “So are you gonna kiss me or what?”
Remus bit his lip, failing in his attempt not to smile. “Nah,” He said, a blatant lie as he raised himself onto his elbows and pressed their lips together. Sirius twisted so he could support himself on one arm, cupping Remus’ face with the other. “I loved what you said earlier,” He murmured against Remus’ lips. “About the first kiss thing. And I really, really love you.”
Remus just grinned against Sirius’ lips and pulled him closer. “Love you too. Now shut up and kiss me.”
“What’re you looking all smug about?” Lily teased, bumping their hips together as they strolled down to the tent. Remus had so many reasons for the butterflies in his chest, he could hardly stop his hands from shaking, but the smile hadn’t left his face since he woke up.
“Oh you know,” He said, waving his hand in feigned nonchalance. “I’m just a boy in love.”
“Fuck off, you said ‘I love you’?” Lily asked, her voice going up an octave.
“Mhm,” Remus confirmed, nodding. “So now you need to woman-up and kiss James fucking Potter like we both know you’ve wanted to do since the first day.” Lily looked as if she might protest, but Remus cut her off. “We both know I’m right. Plus, it’s fairly obvious that the feeling’s mutual, so for the love of all things holy, put the rest of us out of our misery and just snog the poor bugger.”
Lily laughed, even as she blushed and tried to shrug Remus off. “You know,” She started, shooting him a glare that was in no way intimidating. “I’m really not sure I like ‘in love Remus’.”
Remus just winked and kissed the top of her head, smirking wickedly. “I think we both know that’s a lie.”
“It’s here, the final.”
“We’ve already completed half of the final James.”
“Yeah but this is like… the final part of the final.”
“Someone please tell me why I’m friends with this bloke.”
“Oi!”
“Anyways!” Sirius interrupted. “I suppose James wasn’t fully wrong. We made it to the final stretch.”
“It’s time,” James took over, “For my personal favourite challenge. The showstopper.”
Sirius clasped his hands together in front of himself and Remus had to stop himself from staring at the movement. “For our final showstopper, our judges would like to see you recreate a memory.”
“It could be anything,” James continued, “From a chocolate Easter egg to a fondue waterfall, but it has to be your own memory and most importantly, it has to be edible.”
“Otherwise; we’d be the Great British Fake Off.” Sirius quipped and everyone in the tent collectively groaned, which only seemed to spur Sirius on even more.
“If our bakers are ready, I think we’ll begin. Ready Prongs?”
“Ready Pads.”
“On your marks,”
“Get set,”
“Bake!”
And maybe for the first time starting a challenge, Remus’ hands didn’t shake.
“Wotcha-makin?” Sirius asked, leaning around one side of Remus as James curved around the other.
“Cake.” Remus replied, not looking at either of them as he carefully evened out the batter in his tin before popping it in the oven. He then turned to face the two presenters, giving them exactly thirty seconds of his time for a round of rapid fire questions before he had to rush straight back into his work.
“What are you making?”
“A swing in a tree.”
“What kind of cake are you working with?”
“Mostly chocolate, but I have a few other elements working in.”
“What’s the memory you chose?”
Remus smiled softly. “One of my first real kisses.”
Sirius and James thanked him and left again, allowing him to get back to work. Remus had already filled Sirius in on all the details of his cake, he had even checked that it would be okay to use that idea in the first place. Sirius had just kissed him in response, enthusiastically and at length. The bakers had given all their details to the presenters and the camera crew before, so they could insert a voice-over effect to inform the audience of what was happening as the contestants were even more busy and focused than usual and weren’t giving too many interviews.
Remus had chosen several circular cake pans, in a range of different sizes and was going to stack all the cakes they produced on top of one another to create the tree trunk. The top of the tree was going to be made of a mix of white chocolate melted over Rice Krispies (with a little dash of green food dye thrown in) and moulded to look like the leafy crown of a tree in the summer. The swing would be the hardest to add, made of carefully moulded chocolate, Remus would have to be careful not to make the seat too heavy so that the ‘ropes’ and the actual tree itself would support its weight.
After taking all of his cakes out of the oven and setting them out to cool, and creating the swing set, Remus made the chocolate buttercream icing that would decorate the tree trunk. He carefully layered his cakes, using a knife to cut off the rough edges and make the cake slope gently upwards before slathering on thick layers of icing. Taking out a small, delicate knife, Remus carefully cut lines and patterns into the icing, aiming for it to look like the bark of a tree. Finally satisfied, he began melting the white chocolate to make the tree top.
“Looking good Re!” Lily enthused from behind her, forearms splattered in icing as she decorated her own cake, a letter with a bright red seal. Kingsley was working away too, apparently recreating the cover of the CD he bought the day his daughter was born.
“Celine Dion,” He had told Remus yesterday, chuckling. “I had never listened to her before, I don’t even know why I bought it, I just left the hospital with a need to celebrate and the music shop was the first place I came across. But what do you know? It turns out that my little girl loves it.”
Remus grinned at the memory, sweet even to him and admired Lily’s cake out loud. “It’s the acceptance letter to my college,” She was explaining to the camera. “I got a full scholarship, so it’s pretty special.”
Remus turned his attention to his now-melted chocolate and added the green carefully, not wanting to make it too light or two dark. He had found that five drops got him the colour he was looking for - the pale chocolate requiring that little extra for the colour to darken. He then added the cereal and stirred it in together, folding it in with his spatula.
He gave his hands a thorough wash again as he waited for the mixture to cool just enough that he could mould it, but not so much that it set, and got back to work, spooning the green mix on top of his tree trunk until there was enough for him to start shaping it. He attached the chocolate swing very carefully as soon as he was satisfied and brought it straight to the fridge to set.
And then he was done.
He looked around the tent, thinking surely this couldn’t be it, he must have something more to do, but no, there was nothing left. His cake was made and decorated and now only time could tell what would happen next.
Feeling a tad useless, Remus set about cleaning his station and clicked the kettle, fulfilling his tradition in providing the crew with tea. He had just made his own one when James announced the official ten minute warning. They were nearly done.
Suddenly Remus’ heart was in his chest. He had been impeccably calm until this moment, a fact that had surprised him but he hadn’t questioned as it was much easier to bake when your hands weren’t shaking and your heart wasn’t thundering. But all the adrenaline rushed into him now as he realised that one way or another, he was finished with the Great British Bake Off.
At the ‘two minutes’ call, Remus took his cake out of the fridge and gave it a final look over. He tweaked the carving in the tree trunk and double checked that the swing would hold its place and then Sirius asked everyone to step away from their creations.
Dumbledore and McGonagall re-entered the room. Remus’ pulse matched every step they took.
“Kingsley,” They called, and the man in question carefully walked his cake to the table at the top of the tent. Remus watched as the judges 'oohed' and 'awed', admiring the level of detail, right down to the serial number Kingsley had apparently memorised.
Lily went next, her piping skills on display, demonstrating her lovely cursive handwriting that read her own name and an edited home address, signed and sealed by the headmaster. In their practice bakes, Remus had seen many versions of the cake on display but he had no doubt that this was her best work yet.
Finally it was Remus’ turn, and he walked up to the front carefully, trying to keep his breathing even. He had a mental image of himself falling and his cake going everywhere but he batted it out of his mind. His cake was the tallest by far and god, he could only hope, the best.
Sirius caught his eye as they cut the cake and winked. To anyone else, it would look like a presenter trying to calm the nerves of a contestant, but Remus heard the words that had been whispered to him that morning as the sun rose.
“You’re gonna win this.”
Remus had blushed and batted him away, but Sirius had looked at him earnestly. “No, Re, seriously. They base these things on who does best that week. And you’ve already won the technical. If you go and blow them away today, just like you always do, you’ve got this in the bag.”
Remus blushed and hit his face in a pillow but he linked their legs together.
“Besides,” Sirius teased, rolling on his back and tucking his arms under his head. Cocky. “You’ve already won the best prize.”
Remus had playfully kicked his ankle and Sirius’ resounding laugh still echoed in his ears.
“Ah, Mr Lupin,” Dumbledore began casually as he picked up a knife, perhaps unaware that he held Remus’ future in his hands. “This is rather impressive.”
Remus swallowed as the slices were cut and set onto plates. “Thank you.”
“You have no adventurous flavours for us I see,” McGonagall observed as she picked up her fork.
“No,” Remus confirmed. “Chocolate is my speciality, and well, I wanted to keep it simple.”
That seemed to be all the commentary they wanted as they both nodded with a small smile and took a bite.
“Excellent Mr Lupin.” McGonagall said. And that was it. They were done. The judges thanked them all and retreated to the back room to do whatever it is the judges do and make some decisions. The cast broke into a round of applause and Remus tugged Lily under his arm, Kingsley joining the little hug soon after.
“Can you believe that’s it?” Lily asked them and the two boys just shook their heads.
“No more non-stop baking.” Kingsley sighed. “I don’t know if I’m sad or relieved.”
“Both.” Remus laughed. “Definitely both.”
“Okay you lot,” James interrupted. “We have a little something for you outside.”
They all grinned. As loyal bake-off fans, they all knew what was coming. They walked outside the tent to picnic tables set up and laden with the cakes they made that day, along with all the eliminated contestants of that year and the families of the finalists.
Remus beamed at Tonks before sweeping his mother up into a hug.
“I’m so proud of you!” Hope said to him as she gripped him close. Remus chuckled as he bent to half his size, squeezing her just as tight. “Thanks Mam.”
“Now introduce me to this man of yours.” Hope teased, speaking low even though the microphones were elsewhere and they were surrounded by noise. Remus flushed, but he beckoned Sirius over with a tilt of his chin, so subtle no camera could have caught it. Remus had told his mom about everything and she had been begging for more information, only just stopping short of looking up celebrity gossip, although she did send Remus one or two pictures of Sirius on red carpets with the caption ‘your children would be beautiful’.
Sirius looked more nervous than Remus had ever seen him, holding his hand out to be shaken, but Hope just pulled him into a hug.
“It’s lovely to meet you Mrs Lupin,” Sirius said, looking a little surprised as Hope cupped his face in her hands and gave him a proper look. Remus hid his laugh in his elbow as Hope patted Sirius’ cheek fondly. “You’ve got good taste.” She said to him, tilting her head towards Remus, who blushed.
“The best.” Sirius agreed.
“Remus!” Tonks yelled, tired of being ignored and pulled Remus’ attention elsewhere. “Your cake was brilliant!”
Remus laughed running his fingers through his hair, the pink staining his cheeks permanent it would seem. “Thanks Tonks.”
The bright haired woman just grinned and wrapped an arm around Remus before cheerfully introducing herself to Hope. Sirius excused himself as he had to go with James to chat with the judges and Lily joined them with her parents, Kingsley standing with his family and talking to Fabian about knitting of all things. They sat in the garden, the sun shining bright, a few fluffy white clouds lazing their way across the sky. They chatted about everything and nothing as they munched on an endless amount of cake, Remus just sipping on tea as he hadn’t had the foresight to make anything gluten free. He was distracted, Lily and Kingsley were too and everyone around them knew it, not minding when they drifted in and out of the conversation. As nervous as he was, Remus knew this moment right here was his favourite, living his literal dream, surrounded by friends and family. That even gave him a sense of calm.
Until the presenters and judges emerged from the tent, all wearing welcoming smiles that revealed nothing. They stopped at the table draped in a pristine white cloth and topped with three beautiful flower bouquets and an engraved glass cake stand. There was no big cash prize in the bake-off, and Remus loved that. It made it all the more endearing to him, and it only allowed for the most passionate bakers to enter, the ones who baked for the love of it, not for money.
For once, James and Sirius were quiet, not needing to grab anyone's attention as the focus was already entirely on them. The three remaining bakers lined up before them as they had previously been instructed by the crew, and then the judges began speaking.
“This year, we had the most wonderful collection of bakers,” Dumbledore started, having to pause already as the applause had already commenced. “And our finalists even more so. I do believe this was the most difficult final we’ve had to judge in a long time, isn’t it Minerva?”
“It was,” McGonagall agreed, nodding. “We had a truly fine selection and the most beautiful array of cakes today. But in the end, there can only be one winner.”
Remus was certain everyone in attendance could hear his heartbeat. Lily’s hand was clammy in his own.
“It is with the greatest pleasure that I can announce that this year’s winner of The Great British Bake Off is…”
James and Sirius picked up a bouquet of flowers each, as did Dumbledore, McGonagall presenting the cake stand. Lily squeezed his hand, and Kingsley’s on the other side too he was sure.
“Remus Lupin.”
Remus blinked even as Lily threw herself on him in a bone-crushing hug, the judges approaching him to present him with his prize. Distantly he saw Sirius and James handing flowers to Kingsley and Lily, but he was in a daze. Dumbledore kissed him on the cheeks and McGonagall shook his hand with a knowing wink and suddenly Remus’ arms were heavy with flowers and expertly crafted glass.
Kingsley shook his hand, patting his shoulder in congratulations and James pulled him into a little side hug. Remus beamed at them, the crowd still cheering and clapping behind him as he reached forward and grabbed Sirius’ shirt, pulling him in for a kiss.
The crowd roared behind them and suddenly Remus realised where he was and what he was doing as he pulled away. “Shit, I’m sorry.” He said frantically. “I wasn’t thinking, I fucking shit- Christ- sorry!”
Sirius laughed and wrapped an arm around Remus’ waist. “I’m not. I love you, and I don’t care who knows. Now shut that filthy mouth of yours and kiss me, you absolute wanker.”
So Remus did.
The newspapers the next day had many headlines, but Remus’ personal favourite? ‘BRITISH BAKE OFF - STAR AND BAKER!’
THREE MONTHS LATER
The bakery was loud and busy and completely hectic and Remus loved every single second working there. Not a day went by that he wasn’t teased about his bake-off status and he was working on his degree here in London. Basically his life was everything he ever could have dreamed it would be.
“Remus, there’s someone here for you!” His co-worker, Katie, called from the front of the shop and Remus grinned, not even bothering to take off his apron as he wiped his hands against the fabric, opening the door with his shoulder, thanking Katie for the message even as his eyes scanned the shop floor.
Sirius.
Standing there in his leather jacket, his hands tucked into the pockets, motorcycle resting outside the door. “Hey,” He greeted, with a lazy smile. “You ready?”
“Yeah,” Remus nodded before freezing. “Wait no, I have to ice a few more pastries, they’re our best-seller.”
Sirius rolled his eyes laughing. “Oh,” He said, waving it off. “Let them eat cake.”
FIN.
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So Many Fanfics So Little Time
This is just my list, I have seen so many (but if you want to use it it’s all yours too!).  I’m not a writer.  But I am a hell of a reader. Voracious one might argue. I just wanted to track my progress through the weeds of the absolutely never ending supply of Destiel and Cockles fanfic. 
Read on if you want to see what I’ve read, and what I’ve thought. I am but one person with opinions - some of them may be unpopular - some of them you might agree with, but if you find something you haven’t read here, I encourage you to do so. 
Honestly, this is just so I can track what I have read already, and when my friends ask, I can reference something easily. I have found some different fics on all kinds of ‘best of’ lists all over the interwebs. And I love recs - so rec away friends. 
As someone who reads a solid 40 novels a year typically, I don’t come by the “I read a lot” innocently. I do actually read a LOT.  When not reading fanfic (a new obsession, all things being fair), I usually read a lot of Fantasy/high fantasy, romance/erotica, and or YA (yeah, that was a bit of a ride no?).  So from this one might digress that I like fluffy, cute stories, complicated and supernatural/paranormal type stories, and I sure do not shy away from violence or smut (or maybe violence with smut? *smirk*). 
I have read all of these in the last 2-3 months (I will continue to add as I go). I had never read a fanfic until 2-3 months ago.  A lot of these wonderful people are on here, and I mean you no offence by not directly tagging you - I’m still learning how to actually properly use this site. Links to AO3 are included (and I love you all). 
These aren’t necessarily in any real order - I did read T&S first, followed by 91W, and 4LW...after that it’s just a shit show of Long or Short, Destiel or Cockles - smorgasbord. Some of these are the most popular Fics out there, and others I’ve never seen recc’d anywhere (just sort of accidentally happened upon them).  So let’s get to it, shall we? 
Twist and Shout - ok look. I understand the stigma associated with this one, but it was the FIRST one I read. It was the ball that shot me down the hill, and I haven’t stopped since. So. I loved it. I CRIED like a baby. SOBBED. It was not the quality of the writing but the way the story was developed and delivered. I have Never Cried Like This Reading a Story IN MY LIFE. It’s a rite of passage. Read It and have an opinion - it doesn’t need to be mine.  
Author(s): gabriel, standbyme   https://archiveofourown.org/works/537876/chapters/955188
Ninety-One Whiskey - aka 91W, it is mentioned so much, and is SO worth the read.  I continued my dive into the war fics (not typically my bag really and here I was reading 2 in a row).  There are a couple of followup stories as well to this series (and yes, I’ve read them all).  Although I’ll say that the original is my favourite. I often got lost in a bit of the War/Tactical descriptions, but would recommend it to anyone anyway. Ugh...the “stolen moments”...they were at the same time tragic and the most amazing things ever.  You feel me? no? go read it. 
Author:  komodobits   https://archiveofourown.org/works/2362190/chapters/5214500
Four Letter Word for Intercourse - aka 4LW.  OMG just, OMG. I loved this story. I loved it so much. I think I read it in a day.  Devoured it. It’s so HOT. Just read it. If you haven’t you’re missing out.  LEMME AT IT. I loved “knowing the secret”, and had some major anxiety about that realization dawning (I had to take a breath, and be like, no, no, this is gonna be a mess, but it’s gonna be SO GOOD - I was not disappointed).  There’s more than one work here too - read them all. PLEASE. 
Author: bendingsignpost  https://archiveofourown.org/works/16086839/chapters/37568591
Memories Bring Back Memories (Bring Back You) - This was the first Sobs one I read, but it sent me on a spree.  this is the Memory Loss one.  I have one piece of advice here - read everything by Sobsicles. You can thank me later...just go to her page, and fucking sort to supernatural (or not, read it all!) I’d list them but I’d fucking seriously be here all day.  Also, her tags make me laugh so hard.
Author:  sobsicles https://archiveofourown.org/works/24022945/chapters/57796885
Orpheus - I love this one too, Tattooed!Cas, my LOVE. paired with Mechanic!Dean, my HEART, #help.  Read this one in one evening as well. (I was on a roll).  It’s a one night stand that turns into more (much like my last relationship)....hmm...maybe this is why I was pulled in - although to be fair that is the last similarity to my shitty love life! I do not remember how I stumbled onto this one (tattooed Cas may have been the draw...tbh). Read the warnings though, there is some triggering stuff in this one - but if you can handle it, it’s definitely worth the read. 
Author: sysrae       https://archiveofourown.org/works/2364347/chapters/5220227
Have Love, Will Travel - Can you say no to Stripper!Dean? Cause I sure as hell cannot. Typical sort of character development here with Dean having trust issues, and Cas being painfully awkward...(but in like a super cute way?).  Would Recommend.��
Author: squeemonster   https://archiveofourown.org/works/565455/chapters/1011747
The Inexhaustible Silence of Houses - Change of pace here...It’s got a nice twist.  I didn’t actually clue into how it was going to end until very near the end (maybe I was being oblivious), when the realization came over me and I was...man. I was DONE IN.  I hope that doesn’t spoil (I need some kind of way of remembering them). Voiceless!Cas Hunter!Dean
Author: Askance (doomcountry)   https://archiveofourown.org/works/560268/chapters/1000755
Adagio - This is super short, and super cute. Honestly, I would read the whole thing just for the last line. It’ll take you less than an hour if I remember correctly. Go, I’ll wait. I squeeed. did you? 
Author: noangelsinthegarrison   https://archiveofourown.org/works/1397248/chapters/2928145
Any Little Heartache - super easy read (not in a bad way, but in a ‘you’ll fly through it’ way).  It’s mid-length, not graphic, but really fun hospital AU. HeartSurgeon!Dean / Nurse!Cas - enemies to lovers anyone? Fuck you to Fuck me? yeah. YUM. 
Author: followthattardis https://archiveofourown.org/works/5143376/chapters/11838311
Ad Astra - This is another short(ish) one, just one chapter.  And by that I mean that this is written like a very long poem. Cas as a star who has visited Dean many times over the years of his life, that culminates in 4x01 barn scene. It’s ‘awe’ sad. ‘puppy dog eyes’ sad. The writing format took me a bit to understand what was happening - it’s my lack of poetry knowledge, not the writing.  
Author: nhixxie https://archiveofourown.org/works/1013491
Ad Astra Per Aspera - This is a cute story.  ESL writer, no judgement.  I found this while looking for the one above, and thought the premise looked cute - and it was. Misunderstanding leading to Dean realizing he’s actually Bi.  Miscommunication leading to realization.  
Author: Riverchester https://archiveofourown.org/works/12354336/chapters/28101816
Psalm 40:2 - Time travel post-canon Cas and Pre-series Dean.  If you’re wondering how that works, strap in for this ride, it’s well worth it. 
Author: unicornpoe https://archiveofourown.org/works/30786425/chapters/75992444
Addicted to You - Warlock!Dean/Incubus!Cas - accidental ‘mating’ (I actually really don’t like that word, but there’s sort of no avoiding it in this situation). Cute story.  When you drunk dial a succubus and get an incubus instead...Whatever will we do? 
Author: Ltleflrt https://archiveofourown.org/works/4387346/chapters/9959288 
A Glimpse Beyond - End Fix-it. Not yet complete, 10 chapters so far...I want MORE! Reliving memories Dean/Cas & Sam/Eileen.   
Author: NorthernSparrow https://archiveofourown.org/works/27731689/chapters/67875925
Cas-ti-el - Please I want more...It’s like the story just started. Please write more of this story!! 1 chapter, it’s a trope prompt challenge, but I want it to be a full on story of its own. Imprinted names of their soul mates, Dean doesn’t understand his (because it’s in a different language)...I’m frustrated by wanting this story to keep going. 
Author:  Valinde (Valyria)  https://archiveofourown.org/works/1941591
Our Bodies, Posessed by Light - another short one. Not going to lie, this one took a little getting used to, and I can’t say that I enjoyed it too much for the sole purpose that the premise gave me the willies.  Cas has to vessel jump - ends up in Sam...I got through it, it had a good ending, but yeah, sorry. This just wasn’t for me. 
Author:  obstinatrix  https://archiveofourown.org/works/260289
Peanut Butter Pumpkin Wedding Cake - Waiter!Dean / Writer!Cas - This is so effing cute, just misunderstanding after misunderstanding bumbling around like the couple of dorks that they are. It’s only one chapter. 100% would recommend. 
Author:  Sparseparsley https://archiveofourown.org/works/223962
Destiel, Actually - This is another super cute story, 5 chapters. Gabriel playing a singular role in putting Dean and Cas in awkward positions to push them together.  I fucking DIED at “oh, I am the sub” - needs context, but I guarantee you that you’ll laugh out loud...
Author:  Bexism  https://archiveofourown.org/works/399934/chapters/658398
The Smell Before the Rain - This was my first A/B/O - a big apology to all those who are into mpreg and whatnot, this was my lesson that I am not. this was not for me. Also - I’m a firm Cas (Alpha/Dom) believer, and i’m good with switch Cas, but it’s hard for me to take him being the full Omega here, when paired with the rest I just couldn’t do it. I finished it, but, not my thing. I know now. 
Author: jscribbles https://archiveofourown.org/works/22355230/chapters/53406127
Crazy Diamonds - This is another short one, only 3 chapters - it’s a body swap for Dean, 4x02 him and 2018 him swap places (assumption that 2018 him is “with” Cas).  It’s a super cute little story. 
Author:  pantheon_of_discord https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151642/chapters/37738631
The Breath of All Things - Wheelchair!Dean / Volunteer!Cas.  This is a lovely story, typical Dean self-hatred etc. Triggering for those with suicide warnings. It had me in tears at the end. There’s a really spectacular quote near the end that I found so romantic I screen grabbed it. 
Author:  KismetJeska https://archiveofourown.org/works/994750/chapters/1967519
Kind of a Forever Deal - SummerCamp!AU This is just a really cute and fluffy summer camp AU.  Which is so different from 91W (That’s right, check the author)! I was a little disappointed with the ending, but otherwise really enjoyed this all the way through and was loving all the discovery and young characterizations of all the characters. 
Author: komodobits https://archiveofourown.org/works/999291/chapters/1978478
Everytown, USA - Best way I can break this one down? Wanderer!Dean (listless and without a place in the world, he ends up in a small town...), Twin!Cas (that leads to some fun things). There are a number of points where you’re gonna yell at Dean for doing stupid shit (that are very much in character for him to do), you think, well, yes, obviously you’re going to do that you silly fucking boy [affectionate]; but whyyy? (but we know). 
Author: aileenrose https://archiveofourown.org/works/1797559/chapters/3854836
Chalk and Chainmail - HighSchool!AU, Cas is an artist, Dean LARP’s - it’s cute and angsty. 
Author:  lemonsorbae https://archiveofourown.org/works/804704/chapters/1517551
A Little Patience - Ok. you want smut? This is your story. You want Kink? This is your story.  I actually did not finish this. It got a little carried away in my opinion. It was VERY panty kink oriented (which, while essentially canon isn’t really my kink) so, if you want that Panty Kink on full display? Go forth and enjoy! it  is thirty something chapters, I got to the mid-twenties I Think. 
Author: riseofthefallenone https://archiveofourown.org/works/1750058/chapters/3739232
Control - I REALLY ENJOYED THIS. Which is saying a lot for someone who has already admitted that a Subby Cas isn’t really my HC - so to so thoroughly enjoy a Sub!Cas story? (maybe it’s the tattooes...*wink*). It’s an AU where Cas is the head of a company - Dean is a callboy I guess, for lack of a better term. Just read it.
Author: dothraki_shieldmaiden  https://archiveofourown.org/works/31156601/chapters/76993217
More (I copy pasted the next lot from my google doc, I’ll flush them out later - no i wont...)
Teach Me (short) - movie night in the bunker, things get a little carried away   Author:  Chiyume  https://archiveofourown.org/works/5961327
You Light the Spark (in my bonfire heart) (short) - when cas doesn't realize that dean is unaware of his feelings, super short, super cute                      Author: noangelsinthegarrison https://archiveofourown.org/works/1193910 
Communication Breakdown (short/cockles) - dean ends up in Jensen's head while he films the confession scene, no sexual content Author: jujubiest   https://archiveofourown.org/works/29669601/chapters/72951339
Look What You Made Me Do (short/cockles) -      -  Vegas Con 2020 / jensen comes out with a song     - cute short - no sexual content Author:  green_blue_heller https://archiveofourown.org/works/30251592 Full House (short/cockles) - reimagined version of the rented house story - putting it in order (so to speak). funny / cute / fluffy not explicit   Author: n_nami  https://archiveofourown.org/works/30855827
Cyber Sex (short/cockles) - anastiel https://archiveofourown.org/works/31467086      - shameless post GISH Fest zoom call porn      - Short (very short)
It's Complicated (cockles) - gail_morgan https://archiveofourown.org/works/31434938/chapters/77747519       The GISHtake (short/cockles) - MellyCrazyCoconut https://archiveofourown.org/works/31508099     - cute short post GISH zoom     - oops "babe, really?"  
(10.02.2021 updated) Since last update: New reads - Fuck i’m gonna be here all day - there’s not gonna be as much gonna be NO detail in these breakdowns...sorry! This has now just become a “what i’ve read list” as opposed to a Rec list...
Love, All Alike (Pt. 1 Love, All Alike) - Phantoms_and_Foxgloves   https://archiveofourown.org/works/4555599/chapters/10370646                             - Though The Stars Walk Backward (pt 2 Love, All alike) - Phantoms_and_Foxgloves
And this, your living kiss - opal_bullets   https://archiveofourown.org/works/18083927/chapters/42744872
Come On, Let's Strike a Match (Domination and Submission: a love story pt 1) - anyrei & queerwerewolf ***   https://archiveofourown.org/works/25722478/chapters/62458810 ��  - Playing With Fire (D&S: a love story pt 2)    - We Kiss and the Flames Get Higher (D&S: a love story pt 3)     - Sparking That Old Flame (D&S: a love story pt 4) 
Cinderwings - bendingsignpost Cinderella!AU**   https://archiveofourown.org/works/12847041/chapters/29336421
Linden - fleeceframe Swan!AU**   https://archiveofourown.org/works/33126730/chapters/82236118
No Netflix, No Chill (short) - dorian_they   https://archiveofourown.org/works/28764966
Can't Drink You Away (short) - dorian_they   https://archiveofourown.org/works/28785792 
Jensen Totally (Does Not!) Snore (short RPF) - Dorian_they   https://archiveofourown.org/works/30315717
Dean Ships It (short) - dorian_they   https://archiveofourown.org/works/30349434
All about control - wingless   https://archiveofourown.org/works/9151930/chapters/20791243
Aesthetics in Autoerotica (pt 1 Aesthetics in Autoerotica) - relucant   https://archiveofourown.org/works/3885544                                                             - The Ties that Bind (pt 2 Aesthetics in Autoerotica) - relucant
Let's take a drive - sobsicles   https://archiveofourown.org/works/32581027/chapters/80819581 
Enchanted ink - castielslostwings TattooArtist!Dean TattooArtist!Castiel AU ***   https://archiveofourown.org/works/23043622/chapters/55109530
The bones beneath our skin - darknessbound   https://archiveofourown.org/works/24633754/chapters/59515804
The Plot (RPF) - Castiel_Left_His_Mark_On_Me   https://archiveofourown.org/works/2795588/chapters/6274970
The Gentle Force with which you Take Me (RPF) - Phoenix_Ascended   https://archiveofourown.org/works/32110120/chapters/79549183
According to all known laws of Life (Pt. 1 Cursed Metaphors) - sobsicles   https://archiveofourown.org/works/29207901                                                          - and he's back (with a mind of his own) (pt. 2 Cursed Metaphors) - sobsicles
Six hundred sundays (and many more) - sobsicles   https://archiveofourown.org/works/31158776
Aching in the Absence of you - sobsicles   https://archiveofourown.org/works/31832977/chapters/78811378
gorging myself on you, still can’t get full (insatiable) (Short) - sobsicles   https://archiveofourown.org/works/32203291
memories bring back memories (bring back you) - sobsicles   https://archiveofourown.org/works/24022945/chapters/57796885
Dream Come True (short) - bendingsignpost   https://archiveofourown.org/works/28071159
tall grass - aeli_kindara   https://archiveofourown.org/works/13127040/chapters/30030726
asunder (Short) - rageprufrock https://archiveofourown.org/works/62115
Apheresis - bendingsignpost BloodDonor!AU **   https://archiveofourown.org/works/32674783/chapters/81056680
we always were but never knew it - frightfullyrude   https://archiveofourown.org/works/32698324/chapters/81119503
In this Louisiana Bar (Short) - fleeceframe   https://archiveofourown.org/works/31764487
The Hitchhiker's Guide to Alternate Universes - n_nami   https://archiveofourown.org/works/32687929/chapters/81092785
my heart a compass - lagaudiere https://archiveofourown.org/works/28629951
Unsound Inverses - sp8ce (not complete)   https://archiveofourown.org/works/29836881/chapters/73413300
The Jensen Mistake (RPFish) - fellshish   https://archiveofourown.org/works/31950169
tell me about the dream (Pt. 1 Kids are coming home) - playedwright   https://archiveofourown.org/works/27984813/chapters/68544450
It's handy to know (FIMMF Themed ;)) - RosaMarloes   https://archiveofourown.org/works/31761322
So Says The Sword - komodobits AngelTrueform!AU**   https://archiveofourown.org/works/12597892/chapters/28695592
Communication Breakdown (RPFish)- darkshrimpemotions (jujubiest)   https://archiveofourown.org/works/29669601/chapters/72951339
Carry You Home - Casloveshisfreckles   https://archiveofourown.org/works/26982637/chapters/65862916
In the Shadow of your Wings - Enochian Things (Salr323)   https://archiveofourown.org/works/7531294/chapters/17121655
When Harry Met Sally (RPF) (Pt. 1 When Harry Met Sally ‘verse) - mnwood   https://archiveofourown.org/works/7622347/chapters/17351845    - Eight Dildos (RPF) (Pt. 2 When Harry Met Sally ‘verse) - mnwood    - Attention, Please (RPF) (Pt. 3 When Harry Met Sally ‘verse) - mnwood             - Boat Trip (RPF) (Pt. 4 When Harry Met Sally ‘verse) - mnwood
A Winter's Tale - NorthernSparrow   https://archiveofourown.org/works/2654327/chapters/5930561
A Close Shave - NorthernSparrow https://archiveofourown.org/works/3090167
r/supernatural - renrub (short) https://archiveofourown.org/works/27626783
sam reads destiel fics - rebshome (short - funny!)   https://archiveofourown.org/works/33721624
Angel Cookies - noxsoulmate Chirstmas!AU **  https://archiveofourown.org/works/11729640/chapters/26427765
Under The Midnight Sun - NorthernSparrow Arctic!AU **   https://archiveofourown.org/works/16690645/chapters/39143677
Bron-Yr-Aur - mrbluesky (Short) https://archiveofourown.org/works/28225335
The Dean Winchester Beat Sheet - saltyfeathers   https://archiveofourown.org/works/19258594/chapters/45800209
The Meaning On My Skin - saltnhalo   https://archiveofourown.org/works/18005378/chapters/42538133
Red Right Hand (Pt. 1 Murder Ballads)  - Duckyboos   https://archiveofourown.org/works/4306110/chapters/9760008    - Are you the One that I've been waiting for? (pt. 2 Murder Ballads) - Duckyboos   
Riptides - sharkfish   https://archiveofourown.org/works/13230426/chapters/30263556
Damn Fine Ride - Cimorene105 (pt 1 - rodeo) Cowboy!AU** (I’m a horse girl, sue me...)  https://archiveofourown.org/works/14342340    - My Face Just Does This, Sometimes - Cimorene105 (pt. 2 rodeo)    - The Kinkiest Thing I've Ever Done- Cimorene105 (pt 3 rodeo)    - All Signs Point to Love - Cimorene105 (pt. 4 rodeo)    - Monster Love - Cimorene105 (pt. 5 rodeo)    - My Man, The Siren - Cimorene105 (pt. 6 rodeo)    - A Pain in My Ass - Cimorene105 (pt. 7 rodeo)
Astrolabe (terra incognita pt 1) - reluctantabandon, Winter_of_our_Discontent   https://archiveofourown.org/works/3348812/chapters/7326794    - Drollery (terra incognita pt 2) - reluctantabandon Winter_of_our_Discontent    - Rubrication (terra incognita pt 3) - reluctantabandon Winter_of_our_Discontent
Go Down With This Ship - PorcupineGirl   https://archiveofourown.org/works/8023642/chapters/18370474
Fire and Ice - Castielslostwings (Firefighter/Paramedic AU!) **   https://archiveofourown.org/works/23286295/chapters/55768486
The Structural Similarities of Hunters and Onions - Faster_Than_the_Speed_of_Sound (Short)   https://archiveofourown.org/works/33383101
Castiel Novak's Office, This is Dean - emmbrancsxx0   https://archiveofourown.org/works/22411336/chapters/53545840
Out of the Deep (out of the deep pt. 1) - riseofthefallenone - MERMAID AU! **   https://archiveofourown.org/works/548878/chapters/977676
Dean (and Cas') Top 13 Zepp Traxx - pantheon_of_discord   https://archiveofourown.org/works/10909440/chapters/24256989
I'll Be Good - LittleAngelCassie   https://archiveofourown.org/works/4118334/chapters/9282234
Kenosis - CastielsCarma (Short - part of Destiel ABC collection)   https://archiveofourown.org/works/30411720
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mochegato · 3 years
Text
Capturing a Dream
Chapter 1 - Meeting the Team
This was it.  She was excited.  No excited wasn’t the word.  Terrified? Yeah, that was closer.  Marinette was about to step into the Young Justice base for the first time and meet her new teammates.  What if they don’t like her?  What if they don’t let her join the team?  What if they let her join the team but they exclude her?  What if they get mad at her because she won’t expose her identity and they think she doesn’t trust them?  What if she messes up and she ends up getting someone killed?  What if she gets one of her teammates killed? What if she gets someone else killed? What if… No!  
She wasn’t going to do that.  She wasn’t the same 14 year old girl who spiraled into anxiety-induced, worst-case-scenario, death spirals.  She was 17 now.  She was in her final year of school before college, nearly an adult, legally, she was an adult.  She was the Guardian.  She was a hero.  She was already in a prestigious internship with one of the biggest names in fashion.  She was working with the Justice League, well Young Justice, but that was better because there wasn’t as much of a time commitment, which was really good because she didn’t have much to spare… where was she going with this? Right!  She was smart.  She was competent.  She was confident(ish).  She was… standing outside the zeta tube opening staring at it like an idiot, and she was going to be late.  
She took a deep breath and ran her free hand over the costume she wasn’t quite used to yet, trying to find comfort in the feeling and focus her mind.  She could do this.  She may no longer be able to be Ladybug for secrecy reasons, but Ladybug wasn’t her only option.  She was Chimera now and Chimera was not linked back to the miraculous.  So this new and completely un-miraculous affiliated hero definitely wasn’t unifying the fox and horse miraculous.  Chimera was a separate and unmiraculous hero.  She was a new heroic entity; a powerful amalgamation of divergent parts; an illusion, who uses illusions; a dream that can never be captured.   Chimera was just another magical hero working in the background.
Gone was the flashy, bright suit of a central hero.  She was a shadow now and her suit reflected her new role.  The base of the suit was a brown so dark, it almost looked black.  Her knee-high boots and gloves that reached to midway up her bicep were both black, meeting with the brown core of the suit with a strip of deep orange.  Her mask was the same dark brown color with deep orange at the corners.    She no longer had her yoyo, but in its place was a rope that responded to her like her yoyo did.  Her flute across her back completed her weaponry.
She was still a hero, just not a miraculous one, as far as anyone else knew. She was still protecting people for now, she just wasn’t on the front lines anymore.  She was still protecting the miraculous and would for the rest of her life.  And she was still… standing outside the Zeta tube opening, staring.
She closed her eyes, and walked through the portal.  Before she let out her breath, she could feel a difference in the air around her.  She heard a digital voice say “Recognize Chimera B12.”  She opened one eye tentatively and jumped back with a quiet squeak when she saw Batman standing on the other side giving her an amused smile next to Black Canary and a red figure.  
Black Canary stepped forward, “Welcome to Mount Justice, Chimera.  You’ve already met Batman.  This is Red Tornado.  He supervises the cave here.” Chimera nodded to him but before she could say anything Black Canary continued speaking.  “We are very excited to have you here.  While you are training and on missions, this will be your home.  I know you have an apartment near your internship, but if you ever want to get away, you are always welcome to stay here whenever and however long you want to.” Her voice was warm and welcoming.  She leaned over and lowered her voice, “lead lined walls and no bugs or cameras allowed in the personal rooms in case you want to drop your transformation while you are here.”  She gave her a nod and started walking, motioning to Chimera to follow her.
“As discussed before, your team knows nothing about you.  What you choose to disclose is your decision.  Only Batman and I know anything more.  The team is used to people hiding their identities so there is no pressure to give your personal identity.  I mean, there might be teasing, but you are under absolutely no obligation to divulge and they will respect that.  Especially since Robin is under the same requirement.”  
They entered into a small sitting area that appeared to be their common room. The first thing she noticed was a kitchen that was almost as nice as her parents’ kitchen in the bakery and significantly bigger.  She let out a quiet “Wow” without even noticing she had done it.  She would have to try that out as soon as she was able to get back to it.
“Pretty nice, huh?” She heard from behind her.  She whirled around and finally noticed the other half of the room were a few couches and chairs were clustered in front of a television.  More significantly, there was a red headed boy talking to her, standing in front of four other teens.  They were looking at her with uncertainty and a slight bit of curiosity except the red headed boy who looked excited to meet her, and the larger black haired boy who looked a bit hostile.
“Uh, yeah.  It’s… um, a really nice kitchen.  It looks… really professional.”  She stammered, trying to keep the nerves out of her voice.
The red head smiled brightly at her.  “Only the best for the Justice League.”
“Alright team, it’s nice to see your smiling faces.” Black Canary started with more than a hint of sarcasm.  “I would like to introduce you to your new team member.  This is Chimera.”  Chimera gave an awkward wave to the Young Justice members.  “She was recruited by the Justice League.  Her identity is secret and will stay that way, am I clear?” She stared at each of the team members one at a time.  “Good. She is here under an outside deal so she may not always be available for missions, but she will be here whenever she can be.”
The red head raised his hand. “Wally, you don’t have to raise your hand.” Batman said tiredly.
“What is the outside deal?  What does that even mean?”
“It means something else brought her to our vicinity and she is only available to us because of that.  The details of the deal are not important.  Only that she is a hero on your team and every bit as dedicated to the team as the rest of you.”
“How is she as dedicated if she can’t commit to being here?” Artemis snarked quietly to Superboy.
“We all have outside lives that demand our attention.  There are times I can’t go out with the Justice League.  One of the others cover for me.  Are you suggesting I am not committed to the Justice League?” Batman stared harshly at her.
“No, sir.” Artemis shrunk back.
“I’m sorry, I have school and… other obligations, but I promise I will give you as much time and attention as I can spare without going insane.  Learned that the hard way.” She looked down as she muttered the last part under her breath.  She quickly looked back up hoping nobody heard her.  Everyone seemed to have the same expressions on their faces except Superboy who was giving her a quizzical look.  “I am committed to the team.  I want to be here, I promise.  Um… here, I brought macarons!”  She said with forced cheeriness, attempting to placate their suspicions and hostility. She opened the lid to the box of macarons she had brought with her.
Chimera’s hair blew back as Wally rushed forward.  He had already grabbed three macarons before she even saw him move. “These are delicious!  Where did you get them?”
“Thank you.  I made them. I like to bake.”  She smiled broadly at him.
Wally stared at her with his jaw open, the macaron close to falling out of his mouth. “Marry me.” He said dreamily.
Chimera giggled at him.  “How about I use the only-the-best kitchen to make something else for you a bit later instead?”
Wally gave her a bright grin.  “That will work.”  He looked at the rest of the macarons longingly then back at his teammates.  “Uh…. These are absolutely terrible and you shouldn’t have to be subjected to them.  I’ll just finish these off so you don’t have to.”  He reached back toward the box but Chimera closed the lid and raised an amused brow at him.
“Move over,” Robin pushed Wally to the side.  “Thank you Chimera.  That was sweet of you.”  He took a bite and looked back up at her with a smile.  “Hey, Wally was right.  These are delicious.  Artemis, Kaldur, Superboy, get over here and try these.”
Kaldur and Artemis came over, Artemis shoving Wally again for no apparent reason. Superboy stayed where he had been and continued to eye her suspiciously.  Wally looked at them with a pout.  “Hey!  Leave some for me.”
“You’ve already had a bunch.  The rest of us get some too.” Artemis rolled her eyes.
“Hey, I have a fast metabolism.  I need to eat.” Wally whined.
“Thank you… I’m sorry, I didn’t get any of your names.” Chimera said apologetically.
“Tall, blonde, and hostile is Artemis.  Tall, blonde, and aloof is Kaldur.  Tall, dark, and broody back there is Superboy.  You already met Wally, aka Kid Flash.  And I’m Robin.”  Robin gave her a charming smile and shook her hand.
She gave them all a brilliant smile.  “It is nice to meet you all.  I’m really excited to work with you.”  Wally smiled broadly at her and gave a lovesick sigh.  Artemis groaned and turned away.
Kaldur moved forward and extended his hand to her, “Welcome to the team.”
She shook his hand and gave him a warm smile.  “Thank you.”
“Okay, now that everyone has introduced themselves, let’s get to the training area.  I’m interested to see how Chimera’s powers work with the rest of yours.”  Black Canary announced.
“The training area is just this way,” Robin said with a suave smile, sweeping his arm out toward the direction they were supposed to move.
“Thanks,” Chimera smiled anxiously at him.
Wally came up on the other side of her and bumped his shoulder gently into hers.  “Don’t worry, we’ll take it easy on you.” He said with a wink.
Chimera looked at him blank faced for a few seconds before throwing him a sassy grin.  “It’s not me I’m worried about, speedy.”
“Oh no, Speedy was someone else.” Artemis threw in, moving past the group.
“You’re kidding.” Chimera stared at her.
“Nope.” Artemis responded popping the p.  “A whole different hero.  Not even fast either.  Makes no sense.”
“Good to know.” Chimera nodded absentmindedly.
“Oh, she can never meet Speedy.” Wally looked at the other heroes with wide eyes.
“Is he that bad?” Chimera asked, concern seeping into her eyes.
Artemis turned back to her and grinned wickedly, “No, he’s afraid you’ll start dating him.”
“Ahh.  I don’t date teammates so, don’t worry.”  Chimera reassured Wally with a clap on his back.  Artemis barely contained the chuckles that were fighting to spill out.
Wally gave her a distressed look, “But, teammates are great.  They are supportive and understand you… They’re… They’re the ideal dating material.”
“You make some interesting points.” She nodded as though contemplating his words.  “Luckily, you have very pretty and interesting teammates, four at least from what I can see.  So you have a wealth of dating material at your disposal.”  Chimera gave him a wink and walked ahead of him.  Artemis cackled loudly and threw her arm over Chimera’s shoulders, walking along with her.  “I think I’m going to like having you here.”
Chimera smiled at her.  “Good.  I hope so.”
Black Canary gave them a serious look and stood in the middle of the sparring area as the team lined up around the edges.  “Let’s get started.  This is an exhibition sparring match.  We want to see what you can do and what your teammates can do and see how you can mesh.”
“You don’t know what she can do?” Kaldur asked.
“I know. It’s you I’m concerned about.  You’re going to be working with her and leading her. You need to know what she can do. So, Chimera?  Go full force.  We want to know what to plan for in the field.”  Black Canary commanded.
Chimera looked at her unsure.  “Full force?  Are you sure? I don’t want to… That can be really dangerous.”
Black Canary nodded in understanding.  “I get that, but I assure you it will be fine.  We just need to see where you are in your skills, so we need you to give it your all.”
Chimera eyes got even bigger, “I’m not going to kill someone to prove a point.  I can do a demonstration instead.”
The rest of the team looked at her insulted.  Robin finally spoke up to scoff at her.  “We can take it.  We’ve dealt with worse.  Don’t worry.”
Ladybug looked back at him with wide eyes.  “It isn’t… I don’t think I’m a better fighter than you.  I’m positive you all have better training than I do, especially since I don’t have any, it’s just… I’ve brought down the Eiffel Tower with one hit before.  Thank god for miraculous ladybugs.  But you all look a bit more…” she struggled for an appropriate word to finish her thought, “…vulnerable.  I really don’t want to hurt any of you.”  She shot him a pleading look.
Superboy stepped forward with a determined look on his face. “Then try me.  I’m less…” he paused as if thinking, “what was that word you used… Vulnerable.”
She looked at him uncertain then looked over to Black Canary, taking note of her stern expression.  She nodded and stepped onto the mat.  “I’ll make it work.” Chimera offered uncertainly.
They faced each other for a few moments before settling into a fighting stance.  When she was ready, Chimera nodded to Superboy.  He rushed at her and extended his arm at the last second to deliver a haymaker punch.  Chimera bent backwards and twirled in a semi-circle so she was standing behind him and kicked him in the butt, sending him sprawling on the floor.  He got up and glared at her.  He rushed her again, this time aiming for her waist so she couldn’t duck under him.  She stared at him coming at her like a deer in headlights.  Superboy got a smug glint in his eye as he closed in on her.  At the last second, Chimera jumped up and rolled down his back, landing on her feet behind him, the wide eyed expression long gone.
“We need you to try, Chimera.  We need you to actually fight, not just dodge.”  Batman stated sternly.
Chimera looked over to him to nod at the instruction. The momentary distraction was enough for Superboy to land a hard hit to her stomach.  The force of the impact sent her flying across the mat.  The team winced and groaned in sympathy as she hit a wall with a hard thump.  Superboy moved over to her to check on her but stopped half way to her.   Chimera stood up and cocked her head to the side, examining Superboy.  She raised her brow and asked calmly, “So… super strength.  Invulnerability?”
He nodded at her.  “Okay then.”  She smirked at him, walking back to the central area of the room.  “Let’s do this.”  He smiled slightly and nodded.  She immediately launched herself at him, catching him by surprise.  She punched him hard enough to send him across the room in the opposite direction.  He slid toward the wall but was able to regain enough control to use the wall as a springboard to launch himself back at her.  She saw him coming and twisted at the last second, using his momentum against him to push him off balance.  He recovered quicker than she expected and swept her legs out from under her. She used her momentum to turn the fall into a flip, leading to a series of flips and twists taking her away from him, giving her some space to think.
They circled around each other trying to plan their next move.  Suddenly Chimera stopped and looked like she just realized something.  “Oh I forgot.  I’m supposed to be showing my skills…” she started innocently.  Superboy took advantage of her apparent distraction to jump at her again but that was the moment she had been waiting for.  “Voyage” she whispered and created a portal behind her. She stepped out of the way at the last possible second, sending Superboy through the portal at full speed.  The portal ended close to the rock wall on the other side of the room.  Superboy almost slammed into the wall with his full force but she had left him enough room to bounce back off the wall and launch himself back through the portal and back in front of her, throwing a punch toward her sternum that she was just barely able to twist away from, rolling along his arm until she was in the perfect position to elbow him in the back of his head.  He grunted and turned back toward her, circling around her again.
“Full force, Chimera,” Black Canary chastised her.
“Not going to make him bleed on purpose for a game, Ms. Canary.” Chimera responded, still focused on Superboy.  “Besides, we’re not done yet.”  She turned to Superboy, “Right?”  He nodded at her, an amused glint in his eyes.  “I haven’t even showed off all my skills yet.”
“Well, let’s see those skills you keep talking about.” Superboy taunted her.
“If you say so Superboy.” She smirked at him then frowned.  “I don’t appreciate that your actual name is the name I would have called you to taunt you.  You’re making my job harder.”
He frowned at her, the amused look that had been in his eyes dropping.  “So sorry my name is an inconvenience.  You can call me The Weapon like my makers did if you prefer.”
Chimera stood up straight, fidgeting and frowning at him.  “That’s… really?” She looked around to the other heroes.  They all nodded solemnly.
She looked back at him with softer eyes.  “What do you want to be called?” She asked in a kind tone.
“I… Superboy.”  He said stiffly, not exactly sure how to respond to the shift in atmosphere.
Chimera nodded and gave him a warm smile.  “Superboy it is.  No nicknames unless you approve of them.”
“As heartwarming as this is, you are supposed to be sparring.” Black Canary reminded them.
“Right,” Chimera said shook her head to refocus herself. “Sorry.”  She whispered “Mirage,” bringing her flute up to her lips.  As soon as the notes were heard, a dozen replicas of her appeared and began running around the circle.  Superboy tried to scan them but they all looked identical even with his infrared vision.  He stilled to listen for a heartbeat or breathing, but he couldn’t detect it in any of them.  He looked around wildly.  It was a sea of dark brown and bright orange.  He nodded to himself calculating the possibilities.  Most likely she managed to split herself.  So either they are all fully sentient or there is a central figure controlling them.  He’d have to hope for the latter.
His eyes flicked to one of the figures running at him.  The figure jumped into a flying kick.  He dodged out of the way and rolled to his feet, looking around again for the next attack. He didn’t wait long.  Another figure ducked low to sweep his feet.  He jumped over her but felt a sharp pain in his side as one of the replicas body checked him with enough force to knock him into the far wall.  
Superboy shook his head to clear it.  When he took more than a few seconds to recover, the replicas looked at him concerned.  One of them finally moved forward and asked “Are you okay to continue?”  
He stared at the replica for a few moments before nodding.  “We’re not done yet.”  All the replicas smiled at him and moved into new positions, waiting for him to indicate he was ready.  As soon as he nodded two replicas moved to attack him, one went high, one went for his legs.  He lunged for the one going high, jumping over the one going for his legs.  As soon as he reached her, she disappeared.  Not meeting the resistance he had expected, the force of the lunge caused him to lay out flat on the floor.  He grunted and jumped up before any of the replicas could attack again.  
As soon as he was up he looked around with a grin. “Mirage,” he repeated.  They were all an illusion.  He just had to find the real one.  Two attacked him again.  He hit one causing it to disappear but the other one hit him with her flute, knocking him to the side.  He shook his head again and turned back to them and backed away, giving himself space. He just had to find the one. There had to be an indication of which one was the real one.  He couldn’t use his infrared vision or hearing.  Maybe there was something about them.  He stared at them as they circled around each other.  There!  There was one with a different shade of orange, the shade Chimera had before the match. All the replicas had bright orange but the real Chimera had deep orange accents.  
He kept his eyes moving so she wouldn’t know he’d made her.  He moved forward toward one of the replicas moving to punch her.  Chimera attacked from the side again, coming at him before he could touch the replica and make it disappear.  He grinned to himself.  At the last second, he changed his trajectory and sent another haymaker toward her.  He jerked back in pain as the replica he had been moving toward originally made contact, knocking the air out of his lungs. He grunted in anger and confusion as a rope was tied around him, pinning down his arms.  His legs were swept out from under him causing him to land hard. He trashed with all his strength as he felt her tying his legs too.  He kept thrashing against the rope, but no matter how hard he pushed and pulled, the rope showed no indication of weakening.  
After a few moments of him pointlessly struggling, Black Canary walked over and declared Chimera the winner.  She smiled excitedly at Chimera.  “Now we know what we’re working with and we can plan how to incorporate your skills into missions and approaches to your training.”
Chimera nodded in understanding and looked over to the team who were still watching her in various degrees of surprise.  Kaldur nodded in approval.  Wally and Artemis stared at her in shock.  Robin was pointing and laughing at Superboy.  Chimera glowered at him and turned back to Superboy, releasing the rope so he could get up.  
As soon as he was freed, Superboy jumped up and rubbed his arms, glaring at the floor.  Chimera smiled nervously in his direction, but he refused to look at her and had turned his body away from her.  She sighed and looked down too, shifting nervously.  After a few moments, she started gathering up the rope to tie it back around her waist.  She furrowed her brows at the sound of Robin still laughing, which seemed to upset Superboy even more.  She narrowed her eyes at him and whipped the rope out in his direction.  It snapped a few inches away from his face with a crack so loud it reverberated throughout the cave.  Robin jumped away awkwardly and fell backwards, landing on his butt.
Superboy looked from Robin to her.  He let out a small laugh and gave her a smile. Chimera took it as a good sign and smiled back at him.  “That was a lot of fun.  You are really good at picking up on details, otherwise that color trick wouldn’t have worked.” Her voice was soft, like she was addressing a scared child.
He nodded at her and quietly said, “Thanks. It was fun.”
“Does that mean we can do it again sometime?  I need practice sparring and I’m usually afraid I’ll hurt someone when I’m in the suit and when I’m not, it isn’t as effective. I mean, helpful still, but not as effective.”  He stared at her for a few seconds but finally nodded at her.
“That was a pretty good introduction but it’s getting late now.  I think it’s time to call it a night.  Red Tornado, can you take Chimera to the room she will be using so she can recharge?” Black Canary asked.
When Chimera returned a few minutes later, the group smiled at her and gave their goodbyes.  They made plans for everyone to return the next day for more training.  One by one, they all left through the Zeta tubes except for Superboy.  Chimera looked at him confused.  “Are you not leaving too?”
“No.” He stated coldly.
“Why not?  I mean… if you don’t mind me asking.” She stammered out.
“Because I live here.” He grumbled back at her.
“Alone?” She gasped.
“With Red Tornado.” He corrected defiantly.
“But no other… people? In this big, empty, cold place?” She looked out over the cave, the empty, cold, inhospitable place he was going to call home.
“I like being alone.”  He stated in an annoyed voice.
Something that looked like anger flashed across her face transforming into a determined look before she smoothed it out and gave him a cheeky grin.  “That’s a shame.”  
He narrowed his eyes looking at her suspiciously, “Why is that?”
“I’m moving in.”  Her smile grew bigger.
He furrowed his brow and frowned, “What?”
“I’m moving in.  I have school and, uh… stuff during the day, but I’ll be here in the mornings and at night, most weekends.” She nodded at him.  “It will be like a sleepover every night… except we’ll be sleeping in separate rooms.”
He stared at her for a few seconds, unsure how to react. “Whatever,” he grunted walking back toward the residence area.  “Dinner is usually in like 30 minutes.” He called over his shoulder.  She smiled in his direction.  It wasn’t a warm welcome but it was better than nothing.  
“Are you sure about this?  It isn’t required for you to live here.  Most of the members don’t.” Black Canary reassured her.
“That’s why I’m doing it.  I’ve already had one teammate who had to live essentially alone and isolated in a big, empty space.  He hated it.  It messes with your self-worth and your ability to interact with other people, no matter how badly you want to.  It scrapes away at your humanity.  I couldn’t really do anything for his living situation, but I can do something for Superboy.”
“It will make keeping your identity more difficult.” Batman warned her softly.
“I know, but he’s my teammate.  I won’t abandon him.  And I need a friend here too.  I’ll be all alone otherwise, so… it will be mutually beneficial… I hope.”  She added tentatively.
Batman and Black Canary shared an approving look with each other and turned back to her.  “Okay.  Let us or Red Tornado know if you need anything.  We really think you are going to fit in amazingly with this team.”
Chimera smiled at them and shifted slightly to look out over the rest of the cave.  “I think so, too.”
Chapter 2
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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years
Text
Tedious Joys 
 - Chapter 1/8 - Ao3 link -
By the time Lao Nie wrote to Lan Qiren under personal cover to ask for his assistance, they hadn’t spoken in nearly seven years.
Oh, they’d spoken – it was rather impossible to avoid speaking, acting sect leader to sect leader. They attended the same discussion conferences, and of course the Lan and Nie sects were close allies, insofar as the Great Sects were anything to each other; their alliance, martial and moral, tended to balance out the riches and clever tricks brought to bear by the Jin and Jiang sects, and of course the Wen sect was large and powerful enough that it didn’t need or want any allies that it couldn’t subject to its dominion. An alliance meant constant contact, checking in, and ideally would call for a good relationship between the leaders of the two sects, which they had once had.
They had once been very close, even.
Lan Qiren had idolized Lao Nie from a young age, admiring his fierceness and his passion for life, his ruthless logic and his practicality and his thoughtful sense of judgment, all the more admirable given that he was from a sect known for being a bunch of hotheads. When Lan Qiren’s older brother – older by nearly ten years, with a middle brother that had died before Lan Qiren’s birth and several miscarriages in between as his parents struggled to provide the sect with the requisite spare – had continuously tried to leave his irritating younger sibling at home when going on night-hunts, Lao Nie had cheerfully interjected himself more than once, volunteering that he would be happy to take him along, and at that point Lan Qiren’s brother, who admired the older man nearly as much as Lan Qiren did, would generally yield, even if he grumbled about it.
Unlike Qingheng-jun, who ought to have been more considerate for his own family, Lao Nie had never minded having to slow down the pace of his hunts in order to accommodate a sickly child, a pedantic one that needed to understand things thoroughly before he was comfortable trying something new. He had often allowed Qingheng-jun to rush ahead and win glory that ought in all fairness to have been his, something Lan Qiren only discovered when he reviewed his history in retrospect.
Lao Nie hadn’t minded how clumsy Lan Qiren was, or how picky he was, refusing to eat even common foods if the texture didn’t appeal to him; he had only laughed at his excessive formality, the harshness of his tone, his tendency to repeat himself or to become caught on little details. He’d indulged him, wasting copious amounts of his time listening to Lan Qiren talk enthusiastically about the Lan sect rules, which he’d fallen in love with at an early age and, when young, rarely missed the chance to bring into any given conversation no matter how irrelevant.
He’d always been very kind to him.
If you had asked Lan Qiren ten years ago, he would have confidently asserted that Lao Nie was one of his dearest friends.
And yet – it had been Lan Qiren, who was short on friends, and not Lao Nie, who had many, that had cut off their relationship. Lan Qiren hadn’t truly spoken to Lao Nie in seven years, limiting their conversations to the subject of sect business and keeping their meetings as short as could be allowed by etiquette, ignoring the way Lao Nie looked at him with sadness and regret in his eyes. Even when Lan Qiren’s anger had finally died down from a raging flame to a simmering anger he suspected would never leave him entirely, he had thought to himself that it was too late, that the fire had burnt everything out, that there were only ashes left behind.
And yet – on the seventh year, apparently apropos of nothing, Lao Nie wrote to him, requesting his presence.
As a friend, he wrote. Come as a friend, or not at all. I have no use for a sect leader.
Lan Qiren struggled with the request, which did not obey any of the unwritten rules he had forced himself to learn on top of the many that were written. He did not know if he was still enough of a friend to Lao Nie to answer such a request.
He did not know himself whether he would go until the moment that he went.
Lao Nie met him at the gateway to the Unclean Realm, relief written in every line of him.
“Thank you,” he said, and Lan Qiren shifted uncomfortably from side to side.
“I didn’t even do anything yet,” he said stiffly, instinctively reaching up to stroke his beard. It was a more acceptable social tic than others that he had been discouraged from employing; losing access to it, however temporarily, had been one of the reasons he had been so upset with Cangse Sanren when she’d shaved it off while he was asleep. She’d tracked him down later to apologize when she’d realized how badly he’d taken it, serious for perhaps the only time he’d known her, and they’d ended up as something almost like friends out of the whole debacle. He hadn’t heard from her in years, either, but that was no breach; it was only that she was busy with her husband and the little child she had once shoved into his arms with that deep, echoing laugh of hers. “Don’t thank me until I’ve determined if I can do anything for you, or will.”
Lao Nie nodded and showed him inside, leading him to his private chambers rather than the sect leader’s study. This suggested that the issue was private, although Lan Qiren supposed he’d already known that, based on the letter.
They sat in silence while Lao Nie personally served the tea, his brow still creased in concern, and Lan Qiren stared at him – too intently, as always – and wondered what private issue could have caused such an upset, and moreover what he could possibly need Lan Qiren for. Lao Nie was a private man, in the custom of his clan and sect; Lan Qiren didn’t know his birthdate or even his age, only the approximates, and many of the details of his life escaped him. It made it difficult to guess what the matter might be, if it were personal and not political.
Although…
“My condolences regarding your second wife,” he said, watching, and Lao Nie jerked his head in a tight nod, acknowledging the loss. Lao Nie’s first wife had been a mysterious figure, appearing and disappearing as suddenly as an unexpected burst of rain on a sunny day – the stories in Qinghe enthusiastically claimed she was a goddess that descended from the heavens to dally with moral race, who’d ended up marrying Lao Nie to legitimize the child he’d unexpectedly planted in her belly, only to be summoned back to the heavens on important duties, although of course it was commonly understood that she was more than likely just some powerful rogue cultivator who had decided after a short interval that being married was not for her. Lan Qiren had never met her, although he had had the fortune to meet Lao Nie’s second wife, who had been much more down-to-earth, an innkeeper’s daughter.
(Lan Qiren had rather liked her the few times they’d met. She was a little self-absorbed, in a harmless sort of way. She liked beautiful things and good food and talking about them, and was happy to carry on entire conversations while he responded only with nods and grunts; to his relief, she had never expected anything more from him. She was very beautiful herself, both delicate and seductive with her fox’s face and long and narrow eyes; some cruel people spread rumors that she was a demon or a yao in disguise, sent to wreak havoc through the seduction of men. She had never tried anything like that on Lan Qiren, unless her attempt at seduction consistent of sharing a plate of snacks and occupying him enough to prevent him from having to listen to the more boring parts of the social parts of certain discussion conference meetings. At any rate, he’d been truly saddened to hear that she had died.)
Still, Lao Nie had not yet begun to speak.
That meant that the problem was not in relation to that aspect of his life, which in all honesty was a relief. Lan Qiren could not imagine a world in which Lao Nie confided his marital problems in a prematurely old bachelor like him.
Perhaps…
“Your sons?” he asked, and this time Lao Nie flinched, so he’d guessed right. “Ah. The younger one?”
The younger one would be about A-Zhan’s age, surely, or even younger. Little more than a toddler, not yet quite old enough to be taken away from the mother – or nurse, in the case of Lao Nie’s second son – and they were so terribly fragile at that age…
“No,” Lao Nie said, and sighed, a long exhale. “Forgive me, it’s a difficult subject. A-Sang is fine. The issue is with A-Jue.”
Nie Mingjue would now be around eight or nine years old, Lan Qiren thought, or perhaps even older – it was so hard to tell with these secretive Nie, and he only knew enough to make the guess at all because of their former friendship. Most sects were only vaguely aware that there were heirs to the Nie sect, and had certainly never seen hide nor hair of Nie Mingjue, during discussion conferences or otherwise.
He’d been a toddler the last time Lan Qiren had seen him, young and energetic, running around anywhere, but he had something of his father’s kindness – he’d actually listened to Lan Qiren telling him about rules that didn’t apply to him, and even proudly repeated some of them back to his father, much to Lan Qiren’s embarrassment – without having yet grown into his father’s occasional callous ruthlessness.
Perhaps it made a certain amount of sense that Lao Nie would ask for help with his children. Since his life plans had been irrevocably altered, Lan Qiren had taken over teaching at the Cloud Recesses, and to his surprise, was apparently making something of a name for himself.
It hadn’t been intentional: he’d been desperate for something to do with himself that wasn’t just for the sect, so much of his time consumed by the business of sect leadership, and he’d always planned to become a teacher eventually, although he’d always assumed it would be much later in life. He’d volunteered to teach, only to look at the small handful of obedient, well-trained Lan sect disciples that he would be in charge of instructing and quickly realized that such ‘teaching’ wouldn’t occupy his time at all.
Accordingly, he had demanded that the sect elders allow him to accept disciples from other sects as well. The request was highly irregular, but strictly abided by all Lan sect rules on the subject – it was Lan Qiren putting together the proposal, after all – and the elders had granted it with surprisingly little debate. To this day, Lan Qiren wasn’t sure if it was pity for his circumstances or simply an assumption that no outside students would bother attending, but he would not let the approval, once granted, be so easily retracted: he had sent out letters asking for students at once, and to everyone’s surprise but his own they actually came.
(He’d been clever about it, at the start. He’d reached out first to those smaller sects that would not have access to resources even a quarter as good as the Cloud Recesses, asking specifically for those children that seemed troublesome – the ones it took time and attention to teach, the ones who didn’t seem to be getting what they were supposed to learn. The slow, the stupid, the angry, the ones who disappointed their parents most of all. Lan Qiren might not have answers for those children, but at least he could give them his time and attention and he found, for most of them, that was all they wanted.)
Recently, though, they’d started getting more requests to join from the slightly larger subsidiary sects, more people, even murmurs about sending him their sect heirs rather than their burdens – people were saying that his teaching could make a gentleman even out of a waste, which Lan Qiren didn’t really understand. After all, putting aside a few students that were too arrogant to be willing to learn anything, he hadn’t encountered a single one he’d characterize as a waste.
“How can I help A-Jue?” he asked, expecting Lao Nie to finally give in and explain.
But Lao Nie shook his head.
“There’s some background I need to tell you first,” he said. “Without which the problem won’t make much sense. You have one of the finest analytical minds I’ve ever met, Qiren, and a way of thinking that doesn’t match up to conventional wisdom – I’m hoping you can help me where expertise has failed.”
Lan Qiren frowned, embarrassed. “I can try,” he said, already mentally rearranging his plans to account for a longer stay. He disliked sudden changes and had planned out three possible lengths of time for his visit – one short, one medium, one long – so that he would be able to select whichever one would be most appropriate. He hoped that the issue would not require any more time than the longest period he had allotted. “What is the subject?”
“Saber,” Lao Nie said, and smiled at Lan Qiren’s confusion. “My sect’s cultivation style. Let me explain…”
Lao Nie’s explanation was fascinating.
The cultivation style of the Nie sect – and the Nie clan in particular, especially the main branch – was unlike anything Lan Qiren had ever heard before, completely different in both substance and philosophy. It was a rough trade, a difficult road, heartbreaking in its sacrifice, impressive in its results…
It wasn’t the road for everybody, but one couldn’t help but admire those that walked it.
“Doesn’t it get close to demonic cultivation, using resentful energy like that?” he asked at one point, and Lao Nie had explained to him how they had drawn the distinction – using beasts, never humans, and channeling the worst of the effects into their sabers rather than themselves. How much they strived to cultivate morality into their sabers as well as power.
Lan Qiren thought that it was a fine line, but after some thought concluded that they fell on the right side of it, if just barely. The primary dangers of demonic cultivation were in the way it increased the amount of evil in the world, whether through the inevitable madness and violent rampages of its wielders or through the simple side effects of using other people’s corpses as your playthings, increasing their own resentment, breaking the hearts of their loved ones, and causing their ancestors to curse you; that sort of vile conduct was an offense to the Heavens. The Nie sect’s cultivation avoided that, and if through their sabers they added a little bit of evil to the world then it could not be denied that they took much, much more of it out.
“I think I understand now,” he said, brushing his fingers along his beard. “But…why tell me? Isn’t it one of your clan secrets?”
“It is,” Lao Nie agreed. “As a general principle, we do not tell outsiders unless we must.”
The Nie sect preferred principles over rules, which Lan Qiren begrudgingly accepted even if he himself preferred having rules, clear and precise and equal even if they sometimes weren’t quite fair. But situation-dependent or not, the Nie held to those principles just as tightly as any Lan did to their sect rules, and that was worthy of respect.
“So you felt that you must,” Lan Qiren observed. “But why? And what does it have to do with A-Jue? Is he not taking to your sect’s teachings…?”
“I would almost prefer that,” Lao Nie said, and rubbed his eyes. “We’ve always had those that didn’t follow our ways – those that refused to train the saber, or refused to cultivate a spirit despite all their training. No. It’s actually…A-Jue’s very good.”
Lan Qiren had been a teacher for seven years. He was accustomed to parents who needed to praise their child before getting to the point, though he wouldn’t have expected it of Lao Nie. He waited.
“He’s too good,” Lao Nie said, and abruptly covered his face with his hands. “He’s already cultivated a spirit in Baxia.”
Lan Qiren’s whole body jerked. “Lao Nie!” he exclaimed. “You’ve already given him a saber? He’s too young!”
Under the age of ten, Nie Mingjue should still be building his strength, shaping the muscles that would serve him in the future; he should be wielding only a practice saber made of wood, heavy and slow as he etched the forms of his sect style into his bones. Even if he was a true prodigy, a once-in-a-generation genius, he should at most bear a weapon of dulled steel, and never an actual spiritual weapon, much less the one that would be the companion of his future life.
“He took it himself,” Lao Nie said. “A little over a year ago – we had a surprise attack, right in the middle of the summer hunts. Supposedly bandits, but actually mercenaries, supported by traitors from the inside; they had a map to lead them straight inside our home, and attacked at the moment when most of us were gone. When everyone else ran for cover, A-Jue went to the armory and picked up a saber, freshly forged, and he took his first blood the same day. What was I supposed to do? Take it away from him?”
Lan Qiren felt a stab of sympathy for Lao Nie’s impossible dilemma.
Taking the saber away just when A-Jue had started bonding with it, right after he’d shed blood with it for the first time – yes, that would have been far worse. It might have crippled his confidence, introduced hesitation that would damage his cultivation forever, hinder his future growth…
“And he already developed a saber spirit?” he said instead. “Within a year?”
That wasn’t genius. That was insane.
“I know,” Lao Nie said. “The faster we cultivate, the sooner we die, but how am I supposed to say that to a child? And there’s how fast he’s picked up our cultivation style, how fast he’s going – what if he introduces some flaw into it and it sinks in before anyone notices? Even a minor disruption to his qi, at this age –”
Lan Qiren scowled. “Stop panicking,” he ordered. “That won’t help anyone at all, least of all him.”
Unexpectedly, Lao Nie smiled at him, although the smile was full of regret.
“It’s easy to say and hard to do,” he said. “Don’t you know I always lose my head when it comes to love?”
Lan Qiren knew.
Lao Nie had always been reckless in matters of the heart, as seen by his decision to marry some stranger for his first wife and a nobody for his second, and to thereafter refuse a third, more sensible arrangement with some sect leader’s daughter or sister that could care for the children as a mother while acting as a useful political tool, even if no other children were forthcoming. Even though his life had been beset with later tragedy, he had been happy with his wives – happy and in love, and unwilling to trade a single moment with them for anything.
Lan Qiren knew this. He even understood it.
He just had trouble excusing it.
Lao Nie had been friend to Lan Qiren’s brother long before he’d been friend to him, and so when Qingheng-jun had fallen in love in that sudden, shocking, irrevocable manner that the Lan sect had, Lao Nie had been the first to support him in it, delighted to think that his friend would find the same happiness he had himself found. He’d encouraged him not to be shy in presenting his courtship, in presenting himself as a possible match; he’d reassured him that some disinterest to begin with was reasonable, given that they were still strangers, and advised him to enjoy the feeling of falling in love, to be reckless and bold and daring with it…and he did it all in writing, from a distance.  
Lao Nie had been occupied at the time with issues in his own sect – probably the scandals relating to his first wife, in retrospect, though of course he said nothing of it back then – and had unwisely trusted in Qingheng-jun’s description of the events, rather than seeing the circumstances for himself.  It was understandable that he would not comprehend how fiercely his friend’s heart had been gripped by love, or how truly disinterested He Kexin was in her ardent suitor, not when Qingheng-jun described her resistance as mere coquetry. It was impossible for Lao Nie to have predicted that his well-meant advice that love was worth anything, even defiance of sect rules and the counsels of the elders, would be interpreted in such a terrible way.
Still less, of course, could he have predicted what happened next, the tragedy of He Kexin and the friend that deceived her, that tried to use her and Qingheng-jun through her through false rumors and twisted stories, and in so doing underestimated how unbridled He Kexin could be when pressed. It was all part and parcel of the same underlying calamity: if Qingheng-jun had not been so persistent in his courtship, He Kexin wouldn’t have had such a bad impression of the Lan sect; if she hadn’t had such a bad impression of the Lan sect, she might not have been so ready to believe her friend’s lies about their teacher’s conduct, to allow herself to be indirectly used to manipulate Qingheng-jun’s love-madness to the advantage of another sect; if He Kexin had been a little less arrogant or a little less blindly trusting or had bothered to ask a single question before taking upon herself the duty of executioner as well as judge, if she’d only held back her sword and not gone so far as to kill a man over baseless rumor – if only – if only – if, if, if –
If Qingheng-jun had not decided that his love mattered more to him than his sect.
There was no way Lao Nie could have known what would happen.
It was understandable.
One might even say that it was forgivable, except Lan Qiren had not yet gotten around to forgiving him.
Lan Qiren had dreamed of travel, not teaching; he’d wanted to play music in all the forgotten places, to learn all the things that could not be simply deduced from inside the safety of the Cloud Recesses. He’d wanted to help people, to use that vast store of knowledge that seemed irrevocably stuck in his brain to solve problems and suggest solutions. But the Lan sect needed a leader, and with Qingheng-jun in permanent seclusion, disinterested in sect matters, choosing instead to obsess endlessly over his broken heart…
The duty had fallen to Lan Qiren instead.
(He Kexin had eventually grown rather fond of her husband, even if love wasn’t the word for it. Lan Qiren didn’t know if she was simply salvaging what she could out of an unsalvageable situation or if she just enjoyed the exercise, but he had two nephews now, to raise as if they were his own. Because that was just what he needed, another chain binding him to his home, another duty that shouldn’t have been his – he loved his nephews more than anything, so he couldn’t be angry at them, couldn’t blame them for being born, and so he had to be angry at everyone else instead.)
Lan Qiren lowered his head and pursed his lips. He knew Lao Nie wanted his forgiveness. He even knew, according to the sect rules he valued so highly, that he should grant it. Seven years was surely long enough to pay for any innocent mistake, wasn’t it?
Come as a friend, or not at all.
That was the invitation Lao Nie had extended, and Lan Qiren had come. That was very nearly a decision, if he wanted it to be.
“Let me see him,” Lan Qiren proposed, and Lao Nie’s smile warmed at once.
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emcscared-whumps · 2 years
Text
SHIFTING PHASES MASTERPOST (WIP)
This Masterpost will be updated with new items and progress checks
Last updated: 17 Feb, 2024
PROGRESS:
STAGE: 1st DRAFT
12 of 56 planned chapters are drafted (~21%)
1 chapter pends editing.
7 of 44 remaining chapters are in progress.
0 chapters are being re-written
8 other chapters await re-writes
Word count: ~36.6k
(IT'S HERRREEEEEEE and it's completely different and i'm LOVING IT)
BLURB:
The only thing worse to a belunae than a Hunter is a Hunter that plays with his catch.
Mer shifter Pete Spencer lives concealed in world hostile to all belunae, alongside his best friends Timmy Paige and Lizzy Millen. After multiple unlucky blunders, he is taken captive by the notoriously sadistic House Master Sorrel Johnstone.
A daring escape ensues-- and Pete takes with him dangerous information he never should have learnt.
Will he succeed and scrape his life back together? Or will every possible witness be silenced?
A test of friendship and trust rattles the trio of friends as they fend off an enemy far larger than themselves;
How far will Johnstone go to get his prize back?
(I'll rewrite the blurb some time)
Chapters linked below the cut (There are several bonuses!)
GENERAL CONTENT AND WARNINGS:
Dehumanisation, it/its as dehumanising pronouns, organised executions, death wish, noncon touching (nonsexual), dissociation, starvation, fantasy racism.
(All specific warnings will be included in each post)
CHAPTERS:
(All chapters planned, first draft in progress)
PART 1: 1-10
Chapter 1: xxx
Chapter 2: xxx
PART 2: 11-35
PART 3: 36-46
PART 4: 47-52
PART 5: 53-57
BONUS:
Candinium Afterburns (Post-canon)
Through the Storm (Post-canon)
Another Starless Night (Post-canon)
Where are You? (Pre-canon)
NOTABLE CHARACTERS:
(Note: Profiles may contain spoilers)
Cole Nelson: A hunter in Johnstone's House
Elizabeth 'Liz' Millen: Friend of Pete and Timmy
Gavino DePetro: Aquarium owner, caught up in shit way too deep to get out
Guy 'Burton' Matthews: Antagonist, a troubled boi, Pete hates him
Kate Spencer: Pete's mum
Pete Spencer: Whumpee, friend of Timmy and Liz, whumpee
Sorrel Johnstone: House Master, whumper
Timmothey 'Timmy' Paige: Caretaker, friend of Pete and Liz, caretaker
Side Characters
EXTRAS!
NOTES:
I'll eventually make some lore posts when I start posting chapters, I have a lot of lore, and having some stuff on this was kinda spoilery?? Idk, not that I'm very secretive about the plot lol. Also moved the links to the shitpost things into storage because they were messy :3
SNIPPETS (That I Like):
(Slightly more canon conforming)
Johnstone will Pay Soon
Raw Line
Rings
OOOOOOOLD STUFF (That I don't Like):
(Canon non/conforming/out of date/or canon fodder)
Dathrir turns Pete and Johnstone (Not conforming, out of date, Reblog comments)
Timmy gets a Dose of Pain (Canon fodder)
The Show (Canon fodder)
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