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#just look at the state of the ni assembly
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I don't think we'll ever get a united Ireland as long as NI is so strongly divided between Unionists and Nationalist, with the Unionists currently in the majority.
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kyokosasagawa · 8 months
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conspiracy theory
katekyo hitman reborn is inspired by buddhism in the same way houseki no kuni is and the ending is a cop out, sure, but its a inspired one.
(disclaimer: im not a buddhist)
we already know about mukuros bullshit. we're going to ignore him. throw him to the curb for now. we'll get back to him.
no, specifically i'm talking about the tri-ni-sette.
we know that seven is a significant number in KHR. I think it's not just because of the rainbow having seven colors in it.
i think its because of the lotus sutra.
in buddhism, there's a scripture called the lotus sutra. in the lotus sutra, there's seven treasures mentioned. they're gold, silver, lapis lazuli, seashell, agate, pearl, and carnelian.
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its in black and white and looks like generic gemstones, but then you notice the fucking pearl. and we all know who the the seashell is---we don't even have to mention it.
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"aight so you think the gemstones correlate to some buddhist gemstones. what else?"
I think all of serious!khr is inspired by the lotus sutra, actually!
specifically starting in the kokuyo arc, we're introduced to the six paths of reincarnation. mukuro introduces the concept of buddhism into the KHR world, to the possibility that its real.
"The Six Paths[1] in Buddhist cosmology[2] are the six worlds where sentient beings are reincarnated based on their karma, "
but more importantly, there's more to this!
in the lotus sutra they talk about something very funny!
"From the depths of the Avīci Hell Up to the summit of existence, The ray of light from between his eyebrows Illuminates the eighteen thousand worlds, Which shimmer like gold, And, throughout all these worlds, The births and deaths of the living beings Of the six transmigratory states of existence, And the good and bad deeds, Through which they have received Good and bad consequences, Are all to be seen from here."
it talks about the ray of light from between his eyebrows, which shimmer like gold
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it talks about the six transmigratory states of existence
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Notice the concept of "being reborn up or down the scale"
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it talks about consequence, which we see constantly in the KHR-verse. especially with the Shimon family, including Enma, who is named after the King of Hell---including the Avīci Hell.
"The buddhas, the Sage Lord (Narendrasiṃhā), Who teach the subtle and supreme sutra Are also seen. Uttering soft sounds With their pure voices, They teach innumerable myriads Of koṭis of bodhisattvas. With their voices, deep and enticing Like the sounds of Brahma They make the people eager to hear them.
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O Mañjuśrī, Heir of the Buddhas! We entreat you to rid us of our confusion! The fourfold assembly is joyfully Looking up at you and me. Why did the Bhagavat emit this ray of light? O Heir of the Buddhas, now answer! Resolve our confusion and gladden us! Why is he emitting this ray of light?
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"Will the Buddha teach us the True Dharma That he obtained while he sat On the terrace of enlightenment (bodhimaṇḍa)? Will he predict enlightenment to us? It is not for a trifling reason That all the buddha lands, ornamented With various jewels, And all the buddhas have been made visible. O Mañjuśrī! You should know that the fourfold assembly, Nāgas, and devas, Look forward to hearing What you shall reveal.”
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with that, peace out and chaossu.
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notanotherinfjblog · 2 years
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Can you point out the neg outcomes or affects of heavy ni? You got me curious with your last post because you stated its easier to list the negatives.
Good evening anon! :)
I think it's probably less of a universal thing and more of a me thing when it comes to the question of what's easier to make a list of. Since most people I talk to are not NJs and since NFJs have this compulsion of automatically trying their absolute best to adapt to everyone, I'm always acutely aware of my own shortcomings. For instance, I've recently made my first ESTP friend and it's curious how inadequate I feel in her presence. It's not something she makes me feel, she's a very nice person. It's because her Se makes absolute sense to me. It doesn't feel foreign to me like Si or Te do. It seems kind of counterintuitive, but adapting to an STJ is less of a challenge because my expectations to adapt to them are lower. I get to exist more as a person and learn about their foreign perspective of things instead. But adapting to an ESTP is like I'm hanging myself upside down and force myself to dance on the ceiling. I don't usually talk about what interests me, I listen to what other people want to talk about. This ESTP friend talks about all the trips she made recently to all kinds of cities here and what conclusions she drew from that about our culture (she's not from here). She talks about how our cities are structured, how they were built, what effect that structure has on our society. It's a fascinating take, but I don't even really know where I am most of the time. I don't remember which road I took to get here. Might as well have just teleported for all I know. So how do I adapt to that Se when I'm so oblivious to it? I've got nothing to add. So I just nod and listen.
Which leads me to this: NJs are not practical. Like at all. For instance, I had to assemble a lot of my furniture on my own when I moved. Took me 2-3 days per piece of furniture. I did it, but any witness would have drowned in despair from watching me. When I was little, my dad bought a new rug, a pretty big and pretty heavy one, so he asked my INTJ brother and his friend to help him carry it inside. "INTJ lifts three fringes and says 'oh but that's not heavy at all!'" turned into a running gag afterwards. He really thought he was helping. He was trying his best. His best just wasn't very much because he had no intuitive understanding of how to go about it, about how much physical strength he needed to invest in order to have any sort of effect on the physical world. In a similar vein, I'm an absolute disaster when it comes to regulating the loudness of my voice. I never have the faintest idea of how loudly I must speak in any given situation to make myself be understood. It's always too quiet, and my INFJ friend has the same problem. NJs completely lack an understanding of the physical world. It doesn't mean they don't understand it in theory. But put them to the test in practice and you'll have a good laugh. To everyone else it can actually look like the NJ has no self-preservation instinct whatsoever because what they are doing sometimes is just completely stupid. Have I walked through the middle of a riot before just to catch a train? Yes, I have. Did I fear for my life? Yes, I did. Would I do it again? Regrettably, yes.
That brings me to this: NJs always need a goal to work towards or else their life will feel completely meaningless and they'll be filled up with a feeling of emptiness until they find a new goal. But they usually don't even know how to reach that goal in reality and they don't even really bother thinking about it. They do figure it out along the way, but they are usually a complete disaster. It makes them happy because there is goal to fixate on which gives their life purpose, but they need (and most would never admit to this) other people, preferably SJs, to actually succeed. NTJs are typically less useless in this respect, but don't ask them about the individual steps of their plan. They're not gonna be there. If I'm ever in any sort of crisis, or about to be in one, or exaggerating a completely normal situation that I don't understand and so turn into a crisis in my head, I turn to the ESTJs to save me from myself. Or like my dad always says, I'm a bit too stupid for the little things in life.
Which brings me to this: SJs tend to be very productive people. They may not feel like they are, but it's true. Ask them about what they did that day and they'll list you 10-15 things. I'm glad when I get to 3 and I'm even gladder when I can remember doing them afterwards. I don't know how to remember things. I've talked about this a lot before, but the memory of an NJ is typically not structured in a way that can be accessed. It's not a library that they have a clearance to. They can make requests at the reception desk, but there's usually no one working there, so they're just shouting into a void. Anyone asks an NJ about something they did in the past, something they believed in as a kid, or literally just what happened at the meeting three hours ago, and they won't be able to tell you much because they really don't remember. Their memories are there, they do get encoded in their brains, they don't just vanish. But the memories surface spontaneously by association in a situation. NJs can't go look for them, so swapping stories with an NJ will usually be a tricky feat.
Another thing that I've talked about a lot before is the Ni detachment. NJs can't act in a spur of the moment. They don't jump into action, they need to observe the situation first (the rare occasions that they don't do this, it's because they're being stupid, see the lack of self-preservation instinct paragraph above). This is something that especially the SPs do not understand at all and can get pretty enraged by. They think the NJ is either too shy, or too clumsy or simply a little daft, and consider this detachment an annoyance that should get worked on and gotten rid of. But Ni just works that way, it's not something to get over. This is especially worsened in social situations for the NFJs though because Fe in particular always thinks in social rules. You can't ever just exist. There are rules you need to follow and the rules change depending on the situation. But to figure out what those governing rules are right now, the NFJ will need to take a step back and observe everyone else first, learn from their behaviour and then adapt accordingly. This first step of observation can look extremely awkward to other people, and when I say 'extremely' I mean extremely. There'll just be this person standing there silently in the middle of the room without moving, staring at everyone. Give them a minute (or an hour, maybe).
Not really that bad of a thing, but also brainstorming. I have yet to meet an NJ who doesn't seethe with rage when someone forces them to brainstorm. Their brains are not built that way. Why entertain multiple shallow ideas when you can just dig into one? Always confuses the NPs massively.
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olehswift · 2 years
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[ @taylorswift ]*, makes me want rotate you upside down, standing on my legs in full height, spread your legs with my hands and just to go full in there with my face
As ANts EAter (ANEA, annie, (a, ni) (Mia) (-1, 9--9 is mia)
Xi, if doing nothing, creates questions to him, from Chinese people, naturally
As well as Ukraine
& Red Dragon
Dragon
Dagon
Penal
Раздраконенный
Again about slut
Пелотка
EN
Ебаный нахуй
Chris Wray who can't perform his duties (You are corrupted government worker & because of you my wife was raped by Elon Musk, Jack Dorsey and Joe Alwyn--and you now say that she is slut and has, possibly, diseases that I don't have? To attack them to claim the one who was attacked as agressor.)
Whom to blame
Yourself
YOU, not ME
Yourself
YOU
OUouself
My first (As I understand--now not first) anal
Ringtone
Police
Ice Pol
Penguins
Gretta and Arni--difference
(3,3,-6)
ABS
My Milk
RING The Ring (38)
That Samara is me
The way they opressed Gore Verbinskii
Criminal State under Biden
Trees
1967 (CM)
Трись
3 holes on leather belt
Belit
3 8
Disintegrator
AT
Years Zero
Ukraine trying to prove that I am not GKAT so that AS belonged to Putin
(Careful, speculations around each corner)
Siri
NIN
Locusts
Cursed Clock
Cursed Work Orange
41
09.11.2001
CW--Chris Wray
O as negator
Chris Wray becomes WC--watercloset
Toilet
Pinion
123
Jens
Pinion
Pion
No ip (Eb, she must be traced)
Loyal
Lich
12
21
Again, Masons that are dumbing everything down
Moloch as eviolution of Lich
My bloodtype
227
07.22
ABB
JK
35, 22, 63
JFK 27
Right
Pork
Spanking--sometimes, to create bloodflow to her pussy cherry lips--slightly, without Paddocks
Padls...
... I forgot
pmnigen
Father
Wants me as father (Who writes it)
212 in my visa
ABB again
(227, 212, ... so many coincidences and SO informes me
SOi
DEUS EX
Just Deus
Suddenly, not God
Latin
Again 21
I know what you did last summer
Caesar's Section
Hi UK)
Pork
Musk showing strange experiment over pig
Suddenly, I was not born in 1995
Enough
Middle Fingers
No
Only Index (In my little ass of my [ @taylorswift ]*)
Ring with Г...
Me explaining them that systems as Grace are never constructed on microchips
Me showing them astonishing results & them only trying to disprove it
Money Bennie
KOLO
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The Ring 38 again
Ringu 69
Grace
2nd chapter--to show them sound?
Antonio, I will check on you. See--how she slightly led me to you.
No R
No A
Indeed, what's left?
Only love
Pink book
Musk again
I will check on you
Hmm
Indeed--if I will set all people whom you meet each day in General Assembly--probability of you dying is much higher
Magnet
Lawsuit
Trump
Rally (Pregnancy)
Antonio, I will add you to Ours, it won't help against DNWSBF but will isolate you from F887 and some other (SOMS) things that I didn't use yet
See, Antonio, really, how much I can derive from tiny video if that creature, just because I love her?
That's called AT TENTION
Surface Tention
Again--clones (Yes, they are real but I was doing it myself. So I wasn't even surprised)
Hawaii
Garrius (White)
Wray
What to do with him?
Wray, your wife would be 'разъебаная' if she was in place of my wife [ @taylorswift ]* with you in role of FBI Director
There's nothing to be proud about
I like realism in such matters, cause I love her
But then where is result?
If nobody is guilty, whose matches?
Larry
BL
IAD
Right
4,1,9
IDA
AID
FAST
Swift
Again, Ukraine...
Hyron Core
Lambda Core
HL
20
HP
Not urine (Okay, I will check it), but.... I want to call it honey. Just want to call it like that
Indeed, no lubricants
Aha, nightmare on elms street
Real nightmare
I have very bad feeling looking at my facebook posts from May June
Me doing it too late with Johnson
Regret
Sorrow
NOTVPREGNANT
I see, you disliked me adding 10 to treshold?
Not polytope, orbifold
Kesha
3OH!3
Mar ria ge
eggs
Drug
Dogvill
Lars Von Trier
.... Set 0% F887 for Tom Cruise and take him under our protection, add him to List_F887_0_1
Kitten, [ @taylorswift ]*, NOC.
XXXC
33
Red Dragon
Cannibal
Canonball
CIA
(Avril Lavigne too)
Canibal
Baal
21112
Anc
Fanny Kaplan
FK
FKCB
FKB
19
CAN
Orc
WAAAAAAAAAAAH
Right, but not 'ibal'--'ibu'
NOLED
DELO N
DELO 14
KGB
XXXLED
(OR NO ICE CAUSE AK MOSKAU AU NULLEHKFMAN)
Alessa
Cheril Sheril
My combo with 19/30
Warm Place
Another Warm Body
Another One In The Line
On my way!
APB
AOITL
PBOITL
Bip
...
Lot
A lot
Stacy
Good--I didn't need that reference cause I know 21 personally, and I know tgat he is fine (21 Savage)
But you in such case refered yourself, Stacy
SD
Burns
Just add Stacy Dixon from ODNI to Ours
Tonnye Robbins
AP
American friebds of DT
TIFFER
LWYMMD
Blank Space
219
769
7(69)
Hot Girl
+1
8710
(16)
8765
1234
'll run
Cypher
Cicada 3301
(7)
BE
123
8765
766
For some people Pinion (I mean... song is charming and video is great)
Joe Alwyn, Castration
Cuba
8765 766
XOR
Just NSA
Dino
NWO
[ @taylorswift ]* 💜💜♾️♾️, Super Submissive
Photos with hook
That you completely belong to me ([ @olehswift ])
When I drew with my blood over clean paper
484
Hey, my slave (Different from 'slave'), [ @taylorswift ]* 💜💜♾️♾️. Love [ @olehswift ] (That's your husband who writes).
Keep it real
19
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readingdiary · 2 years
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*****
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***** PLANNING 13/9/22 - ‘THE OTHER SIDE OF THE COIN - THE QUEEN, THE DRESSER AND THE WARDROBE’ - ANGELA KELLY
FOR QUOTE OF THE WEEK 19/9/22 - THE FUNERAL OF ELIZABETH II - CHARLES III’s FASHION
This is a change of plan in both subject and method. My plans yesterday concerning the pomp and ceremony plus fashion were just too much. I was taking my own photos from TV but this was taking far too long. Plus for all week there is going to be too much. Last night I began to think that actually I quite like King Charles’ fashion sense. He is certainly appearing in some good suits (I am not including the uniforms).
Maybe this is the way to do it - to focus on Charles’ sharp suits and the pomp and ceremony can be the event.
I am also thinking of just using the print copy of The Guardian. We have it delivered everyday as well as my looking at it on line.
As an experiment I am going to start with the print copy and then find it’s equivalent online. They are different.
*****
FRIDAY 17/9/22 
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***
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https://www.theguardian.com/uk-news/2022/sep/16/king-charles-greeted-by-supporters-and-some-protesters-in-wales
*****
WEDNESDAY 14/9/22
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https://www.theguardian.com/uk-news/2022/sep/13/kings-ni-visit-echoes-previous-high-point-in-irish-british-relations
*****
TUESDAY 13/9/22
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https://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk/charles-iii-scotland-palace-of-holyroodhouse-edinburgh-princess-royal-b2165545.html
*****
MONDAY 12/9/22
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https://www.theguardian.com/uk-news/2022/sep/11/king-charles-iii-pomp-sorrow-monarch-public
*****
SUNDAY 11/9/22
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https://www.theguardian.com/uk-news/2022/sep/10/king-charles-iii-st-james-palace-ceremony-accession *****
SATURDAY 10/9/22
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https://www.theguardian.com/uk-news/2022/sep/09/king-charles-vows-to-serve-with-loyalty-respect-and-love-in-address-to-
*****
Yes I like these but what I like is best is this …
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Encm187scA
I am trying to work out how to combine this with the Angela Kelly book. I am thinking of doing something with the United Kingdom.
ENGLAND - STATE OPENING OF PARLIAMENT
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ANGELA KELLY WITH THE STATE ROBE
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SCOTLAND - HIGHLAND GAMES
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From: Hughes, S. (2029) ‘Our rainbow queen’. London: Square Peg.
WALES - WELSH NATIONAL ASSEMBLY
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I AND NORTHERN IRELAND - STORMONT CASTLE
From: Hughes, S. (2029) ‘Our rainbow queen’. London: Square Peg.
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BASINGSTOKE - FESTIVAL PLACE
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*****
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outzenstevenson5 · 2 years
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tiesthatbind-tf · 3 years
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I accidentally deleted 2000 words of story for poor Soundwave last night and had to rewrite everything but tbh, they’re absolutely worthit.  Their armor definitely makes me want to experiment with Celtic motifs for Hot Rod!
Full story below.
Suraya Widodo was born to parents Wijaya and Ni Made Saraswati on the island of Madura, Indonesia. They noticed that something didn’t quite seem right with their baby, who was fussier than most, threw fits when brought into crowded spaces and seemed mostly lost in their own thoughts, though this did little to dampen their love.
The name ‘Widodo’ (healthy) was given to Suraya (despite the masculine nature of it, which does lend to Suraya’s nonchalance about their gender in later years) in hopes that they would grow up alright despite their quirks.
Wijaya, a fisherman who wanted to give his family a better life in the more industrialized town of Bangkalan west of the island, pushed himself hard at his work, hoping to earn enough to allow them to settle down there comfortably.
He began to risk venturing out into ocean areas which were occasionally used as smuggling routes where more lucrative catches laid, careful to fish there during specific times to the day to avoid crossing paths with pirates and smugglers.
However, his luck ran out one day when a smuggling vessel came across him in broad daylight and silenced him from alerting the coast guards to their existence with five shots.
Suraya was five.
Saraswati, desperate to find a way to care for her child as the new breadwinner thought she had gotten lucky when a job scouter for a factory in Bangkalan came to the village. They were looking to offer work to single mothers as part of their corporate responsibility programme and extended the offer of employment to her and promised a hostel and training so she wasn’t out of her depth in the assembly line.
Seeing it as the best option, she left Suraya with her husband’s family while she worked and lived in a worker’s hostel on weekdays and returned to see Suraya every weekend.
She would give money to the family to care for Suraya in her absence, which was crucial since they weren’t fond of Saraswati (they had not agreed to Wijaya’s marriage) and found Suraya’s odd behavior off-putting and claims of ‘hearing voices’ potentially a sign of mental illness (which was fodder for them to demand even more money from Saraswati with the excuse that Suraya was a handful).
This routine continued until Saraswati was suddenly killed in a factory accident.
Suraya was nine.
The compensation for Saraswati’s death was enough for the family for only a few months and after it dried up, the neglect and abuse began. Though at times it was odd because Suraya seemed to know when they were in a bad mood and when they were looking for an outlet for their anger, and  the child would somehow almost always magically disappear during those times.
Then an agent claiming to be from the government came to see them.
He claimed he had heard about Suraya via their mother and wanted to inspect the child to see if they would qualify for a place in a ‘special school’ for ‘different’ children, and this had sounded tame enough to the family, who allowed him to see the shy, withdrawn little waif.
However Suraya immediately could tell what his true intentions were—-to have them locked up in a testing facility to figure out their ‘mutation’—-and attempted to run, only to be caught by his fellow officers outside the home.
The family was paid compensation for officially relinquishing Suraya’s care to the state, and did so without question, only relieved to be rid of their ‘burden’.
Suraya was taken to facility after facility in the state for the first few years to have a battery of tests, many painful, run on them to figure out their ‘special ability’ as an Outlier and to see if it could be replicated.
When they were in their early teens, they were transported overseas to a different facility as a bargaining chip for intel, tech and the like, coming into the ‘care’ of people who intended to use them as a government asset.
They never saw daylight except during transportation and they began to plan their escape as they studied the facility’s layout.
Their first attempt at escape didn’t go well however; they were caught, dragged back and had their eyes burned and blinded as punishment (at this point they had shown their handlers that their highly-enhanced hearing made them capable of navigating the world in total darkness, so said handlers didn’t not see this as ‘damaging the goods’).
If the handlers thought that the punishment would deter them however, it didn’t; Suraya just became more careful and subtle with the planning of their next attempt.
The second attempt came during a transport session where there were less guards and less access to tech to subdue them, though it came with a problem they did not plan for.
In their first attempt, they had tried escaping into the countryside. In this one, they hurled themselves out completely unprepared into a world louder than any world they had ever known; downtown London on a weekend.
The cacophony completely overwhelmed their senses and they barely managed to crawl-stumble into an alley as bounty hunters were enlisted to track them down.
It was here that they ran into one Ramiro Vasquez (Ravage) who was immediately concerned about their situation and once figuring out the nature of their distress, gave them his headphones to drown out the noise and kept them safe and hidden until the bounty hunters had left.
He then took Suraya back to the rented apartment he shared with Lara Soelberg (Laserbeak) and both agreed to let the waif stay with them for as long as they needed to be alright, and the three formed a little familial unit as Suraya grew deeply fond of the two Beast Men whom they saw as two of the most compassionate people in a horrible world.
Ramiro however understood that Suraya needed tutelage to properly harness and deal with their Outlier ability; having heard whispers of a secret Outlier school run Senator Sharifuddin Waseem (Shockwave) and knowing Sharifuddin as one of the few good men in the Senate, he decided to take the risk and confronted the Senator about the matter, promising to keep the secret a secret in return for helping out Suraya.
As it turned out the threats were not necessary, as Sharifuddin was genuinely  concerned for them and came to see them personally at the apartment. Initially,  Suraya was apprehensive about meeting someone else about their abilities, remembering full well how the first such meeting ended, but to their pleasant surprise, they detected no malice in Sharifuddin’s intentions; only the desire to help.
They agreed to enroll in Sharifuddin’s Outlier institute, coming back home to see Ramiro and Lara every weekend.
They excelled in their classes and soon mastered their ability and knew how to deal with the overstimulation that came from it, to the point where they could walk the streets with no problem.
In the wake of murders of Senators Nikomedes Momus and Gayathri Sharma, Suraya offered to become a spy for Sharifuddin, who was determined to solve the deaths, and Sharifuddin began bringing them to Senate meetings under the guise of them being his new aide.
They caught the eye of Senator Radbourne (RatBat) who seemed to pick up the fact that they were an Outlier, but rather than bring up the matter, requested that they work with him as well on.... matters regarding his constituents with disabilities.
Sharifuddin has his reservations about Radbourne and Suraya knew they were up to no good and both agreed to the arrangement so Suraya could dig up more information about them.
As it turned out, Radbourne was dirty as dirty as politicians came, but he had nothing to do with the murders. Rather, he was mostly preoccupied with an individual named Morgan Trayton (Megatron), the same individual whom Omar Parvez (Orion Pax)  a friend of Sharifuddin’s, had mentioned as a great writer.
Radbourne asked Suraya to track down Morgan with an offer the man hopefully wouldn’t refuse and Suraya, intrigued about this man with what they’d heard about him from Omar, agreed to do so.
They found Morgan in a vast underground fighting ring in Moscow, and after voicing some skepticism about him walking his written talk, he allowed them to peek into his mind to see how genuine and committed he was to his cause, and it took them aback for a bit to meet someone who despite being mired in tragedy, had Sharifuddin’s desire to make a better world and the iron will to back it up.
They pledged themself to be among the first members of Morgan’s rising revolution (which was aided by Omar spreading his writings through an underground press) and told them about Radbourne’s offer to supply weapons and augmentations to increase profits from the pitfighting racket.
Morgan agreed if only to use these exact items against the Senate once he’d acquired an army.
It was during this time with Morgan that they also met Ramsey (Rumble) and Friedel (Frenzy), a pair of dwarf miners who the man had been friends with for years, and almost immediately got along with their boisterous, gregarious natures. 
They continued to be Radbourne’s liaison with Megatron until the start of the Clampdown when they watched Morgan kill the owner of the Pit, free those who wanted their freedom and take those who were loyal to him to meet with Sharifuddin to formally establish a rebellion.
It was about this time that Suraya found out that Radbourne had been conducting illegal experiments on Beast Men, something they took grave offense to, and they kept mining Radbourne for more information about where the experiments were taking place.
Upon finding out, they personally hunted down Radbourne as Stefan Scavarro (Starscream) initiated the Senate massacre to Radbourne’s labs, where he tried to fight them off only to finally find out the true extent of their abilities.
Badly-injured, his attempt at stopping them from freeing the captive Beast Men—-his “property” as he would yell at them—-ended up with him hurled into a genetic splicing pod (commissioned from a ‘Mesothulas’) which he accidentally activated.
The process twisted him into a Rat-Bat-human hybrid, and rather than kill him, Suraya decided to leave the option to the Beast Men he tortured for profit in what they saw as poetic justice.
After those who wanted vengeance were done with Radbourne, Suraya gave the  Beast Men the option of leaving free or coming with them to be a part of Morgan’s revolution which would ensure that they were never mistreated and ostracized by the larger world again.
Two of the Beast Men took up the offer; Bastien Saville (Buzzsaw) and Gan Go-eun (Glit).
When Morgan, confident in Suraya’s abilities asked them  to establish their own division focussed on spying and intel gathering, Suraya chose Ramiro, Lara, Ramsey, Friedel and Bastien to work alongside them.
While Suraya occasionally questions Morgan’s actions, two things they have never questioned are his dedication to his cause and the compassion he shows to those they care for, and it’s enough for them to consider themself a true Decepticon till the day his objectives are achieved.
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thefact0rygirl · 3 years
Text
ROUGH BOY, SWEET WORDS | Din Djarin x Reader
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Rating: Explicit 18+
Pairing: Din Djarin x Fem!Reader (no use of Y/N)
Word Count: 3.0k
Warnings: praise kink, affirmation play (is that a thing?), tied up/restrained hands, mention of face sitting, grinding, teasing, penetrative sex (p in v), cowgirl, creampie, alluding to a breeding kink, cockwarming, soft!din
Summary: Din just wants to be held and whispered words of affirmation. He just doesn’t know it. 
{masterlist} {cross-posted on ao3}
Din Djarin has no qualms praising you and showering you with affection, but struggles when you return that same affection. 
And "struggles” is putting it lightly. 
He is a Mandalorian, a warrior. Being treated like porcelain is the exact opposite of what has been ingrained into him. 
Din is also your partner, your riduur. It has taken him so long to become comfortable with the idea that someone as morally grey as him could be likened to a rare stone in another person’s eyes. Over time, he has let down his walls to bathe in your warmth and affection, but there are still moments when he shies away from it. 
Like now. 
Since reuniting Grogu with the Jedi, Din has grown wary of your compassion and sincerity. It feels alienating to him, like it’s wrong for him to accept love when your little clan is torn apart. With your ad’ika gone and your lives in shambles, Din slowly returns to the one stability he knows all too well: roughness. 
Rough bounties, rough words, rough hands.
Reuniting with his old persona as the big, bad bounty hunter, he finds shallow solace in insults and the camouflage his beskar provides. It’s what he knows best. 
Even sex is rough with Din manhandling you in place as he fucks his frustrations out onto you. Not that you don’t enjoy it, oh no. Not at all. Rough Din hits different, but you're worried about him. He is in a state of perpetual tension, shying away whenever you go for something gentler. It’s hard to miss the way he stiffens whenever you try to adore him with genuine flattery. 
It’s then in a rented room on Nevarro that you decide to try something different to make him feel your love. You know he is expecting something kinky when you use your old blindfold to tie his hands to the bedpost. You don’t confirm or deny his assumptions either, opting instead to straddle his head between your thighs, riding his face until he is drenched in your release.
Sliding down his body, you hover over his hips until your pussy is inches away from his throbbing cock. You coo his name like it’s a melody until he looks at you. The room is dim, save for a small lamp in the corner, but to Din, you look like the sun itself, sweat shimmering off your body like the finest silk.
With a coy smile, you ignite his world when you lower your hips until his cock is nestled against your heat. He gasps when he feels your pussy pulsing against his shaft, desire ripping through his veins as his nerves crackle in pleasure. 
Din’s hands twitch against the restraining cloth that keeps him mounted to the bedpost. He could easily break through the flimsy material, you both know that. All it takes is a flick of his wrists for the fabric to tear before he does the same to you. 
But he doesn’t. 
He stays put, watching as you gyrate against him.
The restraints were figurative, anyway, something you wanted to try and he was more than happy to oblige if it meant seeing you in such a salacious position. So luxurious, so spoiled with your head thrown back as you use his body for your pleasure. 
Tugging on your nipples, you pant out, “Stars, I love your cock.”
You start small with your praise, a simple comment he’s heard countless of times before. Something to add that extra spark to your rocking hips, but not enough to scare him. 
You don’t expect him to respond, and your guess is correct. Din groans in response, letting the comment roll off of him without a second thought. Your mouth is open in an ‘o’ and all he can imagine is shoving his cock down your throat. 
“Yeah? My pretty baby wants her pussy stuffed?”
A low gasp escapes you when Din’s thighs twitch under you, the sudden movement causing the head of his cock to catch against your clit.
Biting your lip, you nod, “I love your body. You’re so big, so strong.”
Now that gets a reaction out of him. His brain stutters for a moment as every part of him pauses. His body stiffens under you, but doesn’t reply.
Din tries to reason with himself as each drag of your hips propels him farther in arousal. You don’t know what you’re saying. He doesn’t even know if you really did say…that. Your pussy is throbbing so hard against him he wonders if this is actually a wet dream. Probably best to just avoid it all together.
Yeah, just don’t say anything. 
But then you lower yourself until your hard nipples are pressing into his scarred chest. Nuzzling your face over his heart, words continue to spill from your mouth, “I love your scars. I know you hate them, but I adore them. They mean you fought and survived.”
Without his helmet, Din is an open book. You see it when he averts his eyes to the ceiling, his tan skin flushing to a rosy brown. You could practically hear his mind puttering, the gears working overtime, to rationalize your words as if they were some riddle. 
Because why else would his riduur see anything but adoration and love for him? Right?
Before he can fall further into his unease, your finger tips rub light circles around his nipples as you pucker your lips to assemble a line of kisses. Starting at his sternum you kiss up his neck, over his Adam’s apple, and stopping to lick up your cum that soaks his chin. 
Din wilts from your touch. Your skin is so soft, your kisses so delicate, he whimpers as he feel your hands move to cradle his head. He just wants to feel you, run his rough hands against your silk skin, revel in your softness and forget about the nonsense spewing from your mouth. The bedpost squeaks as he tugs against the cloth.
Feeling your thumb resting at the corner of his mouth, he turns until he places a kiss against the finger pad, as if trying to push away his uneasiness. 
Feeling your breath on the shell of his ear, you confess quietly, “You’re so much stronger than you think and you amaze me, Din.” 
Embarrassment and confusion blend together until they form a strangled protest in his chest, working its way up his throat. He should be the one praising you, not you praising him.
“Why are you doing this?” He asks, pushing his face into your hand in an attempt to hide the blooming red tint on his cheeks. 
“Doing what?” Your hips continue to rock in a steady pace.
“The compliments.” He voice grits out like it’s dragging across sandpaper. 
“Do you want me to stop?” 
He lets out a breath, “I…” He stops, not answering the question.
Din shies away from the praise instinctively, having trouble reconciling his self-esteem with the way the remarks make his cock twitch. He feels warm and tingly, draped under a pleasant haze of affection, but a voice in the back of his head is telling him he doesn’t deserve it.
But he wants to. He wants to so fucking bad. After everything that has happened, he wants to feel okay. He wants to hear words of affirmation from one of the only beings in this forsaken galaxy that matters. 
You.
He wants to hear your voice, even if he isn’t ready to admit it. So, he shuts his eyes, his hips involuntarily twitching as you continue to grind against him. You lean down to press a gentle kiss to his lips. 
“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum.”
Weaving your hands in his hair, you tug on the curly brown mess at the nape of his neck. You bury your nose against his neck, inhaling his comforting blend of musk, soap, and metal. 
“I love your smell.”
Your tongue drags along the protruding vein on his neck, following it down to the dip between his neck and shoulder. 
“And the way you taste.”
Din calls out your name in an attempt to fight off the warmth of your words, but his throat betrays him, constricting to keep his protests down. 
“And, stars, the sounds you make,” You moan, sucking tiny bruises into his flesh. “Those little whines when you come. I think about those when you’re gone.”
You lift your head so your lips ghost over his. You’re so close and your words are making his stomach churn as blood rushes to his weeping member. 
There’s something in the way you keep grinding against him paired with your sweet words that reminds him of his better self. The one that traveled all across the galaxy, risked his life, all to reunite a little, green boy with his people. He wants to drink your words like a strong wine and enjoy feeling of intoxication.
He lifts his head up to attempt to kiss you, but you sit you up before he can. With your hands letting go of his hair, Din trashes his head to the side at the miss. You don’t miss the way his tenses in anticipation.
“Cyare,” He insists, rosy cheeks turning bright red. 
“My strong and beautiful riduur.”
“Okay, stop.” Din pants, arms pushing forward to break free. 
You don’t miss the sound of breaking threads and you shove his chest with enough force to push him back into the mattress. 
“No,” You growl, eyes narrowing at him.
Eyes widening in disbelief, he chokes out, “Fucking tease.”
“I just can’t enough of you.” You move your arms behind you, hands holding onto his thick thighs as you arch your back and rut faster against him. 
“But you know what’s my favorite?” 
You don’t wait for an answer, you weren’t expecting one. You just keep rocking against him, coating him in your wetness until he’s soaked, your juices dripping down to his balls.
“When you cum inside me. I love it when you drip from me. Stars — feeling your seed filling me, I feel so close to you.”
“Stop,” Hr grunts your name. “Just, f-fuck—S-stop. Before I cum.”
Din hisses for the split second that cool air hits his cock before it’s enveloped again in warmth. Smirking down at him, you hold him tightly in your hand as you lower yourself down, wincing at the familiar stretch as he fills you.
Finally feeling your pulsing cunt consume him, Din lets out a surprise grunt, his hips jumping up, and you have to give him a second to get under control.
“Fuck, cyare,” He whispers, struggling not to melt back into the bed as you grip him like a silk glove, your inner muscles flexing around his intruding length.
Not wasting a second, you start swaying immediately. You’re both too desperate to go slow anymore, you’ve been at this for ages now. Din leans his head back, tilting his chin to take in the breathtaking sight of you, blissed out and lost in the growing pleasure between your legs. Your body rolls with your movements as you bounce on his cock, your breasts jiggling from the force of your hips. Din can’t help but moan at the thought that his tattered body could bring you so much bliss. 
Din is close to his own release, his orgasm carrying him along the edge of climax. And then you start up again with saccharine words. 
“Feel how wet I am, Din?”  
“That’s all you, riduur. Only you can do that.”
Cracking your eyes open, you look down to see Din’s skin colored red in embarrassment. He can only nod, eyes screwing shut as he tries to gain control of himself. He is so close after being teased for so long. He jerks his hips upward, impatient. 
You want to whisper more praise at him. You don’t want to stop until he feels your love, but for now you stop. Din is still hiding, breathing heavily as his hips move in involuntary motions, hard cock throbbing desperately inside of you. 
Leaning down to nip at his ear, you listen to his breath shake, as you bounce on his lap. His cock is easily sliding in and out of you from how wet you are. You’re soaked. 
“Din,” You call, kissing the side of his mouth. “D—Din. Look at me.”
He groans, but follows your request. His pupils are blown out from need and a haze of conflict clouds his brown irises. For all the teasing and mixed emotions your words bring him, he craves them. 
He craves you. 
Your loving eyes, your soft whispers, the purple patches you paint on his neck — they’re the things that show him he is in your thoughts. He watches your eyes as you look at him like he has the stars in his hands. You are just as consumed in him as he is of you. If he captivates you, then he will happily be your captive.
In that moment, all he wants is to touch you. Add a physical stability to your words. He wants to roll between the vowels, let the words sear into his skin like another one of his scars.
“What is it, Din?”
He shudders, pushing his chest up against yours, desperate for the skin to skin contact. “I—I want…Keep talking, but just let me — L-Let me touch you.”
Nodding, you move to the bedpost, but Din is faster. He pushes forward, tearing your old blindfold to shreds while pushing his upper half up until he is sitting up. His hands hold your back to steady you from the sudden movement and to keep you still impaled on his cock. 
With you cradled in his arms, his lips crash down to yours. It’s messy, but steeped in a passion that ignites the purest and most vulnerable versions of yourselves. It’s between your moving tongues that there is a promise of realness that Din embraces, allowing your affirmations to crack his defenses. 
Pulling away, he sees love in your eyes, and when you speak, he welcomes the burning on his cheeks, rolling around in honeyed words. 
“I love you. You’re so strong, so beautiful.”
You sit up straighter, bouncing in Din’s lap. You dig your heels into the bedspread to gain momentum, but you had been at this for an hour, riding his thigh, tying him up, and your movements get jerky and unsteady as the sensation grows more pleasurable. 
“I love you, too,” Din gasps, dropping his head until he is hunched into you. You’re wrapped around him, his protective cocoon, as his breath tattoos Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum into your skin. 
“D—Din! Oh, stars,” You babble into his hair. “So close…”
He growls at the announcement, pulling away from you as he propels himself forward to push you into the bed. You’re now under him, your legs instinctively locked around his waist. 
You’re right where he wants you. You’ve had your fun, now it’s his turn. Holding himself up, he slams back inside your tight pussy.
You cry out, your body seizing and shaking and you struggle to keep your eyes open so you can watch Din’s reaction.
His lips are bruised and red, hanging open on sounds of pleasures and ragged inhales. His eyelashes fan out over his flushed cheeks and his hair is slick and mussed on the top of his head.
“F—Fuck, how did I deserve this?” Din cracks, watching you trapped under him. He’s driving his hips against yours, your body thrusting up from the force of his snapping hips. He may be the one on top, but you are in control. With your little whines and adoring eyes, you’re squeezing his heart and setting his lungs is on fire. 
Chanting his name like a prayer, he buries his face in your neck, inhaling your sweet scent as he loses control. There is no rhythm and rhyme to it, he just fucks you deeper and harder. It’s too easy for him to lose himself to you, in you. 
“Fuck,” he moans, eyes screwing shut as he feels his length enter you, going deeper with each thrust. 
“You’re lovely. Love you so much,” You tell him and Din sobs, clutching at you tighter to him.
“Riduur, my riduur.”
Your heart skips. Not from his words, but the way his voice shakes with the first vowel before entirely shattering my the end. It’s the little whines that escape him as he fucks you harder into the mattress, his need for you spilling into something so powerful he can’t help but moan. 
As Din’s movements become more frantic, you lodge a hand between your bodies and find your clit, rubbing sloppy circles until you moan. The growing arousal ignites your core, ripping through your body as your walls clench around him. Your muscles shake as the wetness between your legs pools, splashing against Din’s groin as you ride out your peak. 
“G-good girl, milk my cock,” Din whispers, chasing his own release. 
His own orgasm takes him by surprise. He can feeling it building, but he doesn’t expect it when his balls draw up and his cock throbs, hot liquid spilling inside of you.
It’s intense — more intense than it has any right to be.
Moaning, he paints your walls white. He continues thrusting through his orgasm, a meager attempt to push his seed deeper inside of you. Maybe even deep enough to reach your womb…
You move against each other, involuntary, shallow shivers as your orgasms drag out, pulling pleasure from ever nerve inside of you. 
“You’re beautiful.” You say, swallowing precarious gulps of air. 
You drop your legs from his waist, releasing at least part of him from your hold. But he doesn’t move, staying lodged between you as he softens. 
Din lets out a dry chuckle, “You’re going to have to wait for round two.”
“I mean it, Din,” You say so much conviction, he is unsure of what to say.
He leans towards you, pressing his lips against yours in soft kiss. You smile gently at the connection and lay back, pulling Din to follow you as he remains inside of you. He lays his head against your chest, letting your erratic heartbeat lull him in a peaceful state.
He whispers, “I know.”
mando’a translations
Riduur - spouse, partner, husband, wife
Ad’ika - little one, son or daughter at any age
Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum - I love you (literally, “I know you forever.”)
Cyare - beloved
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kyber-crystal · 4 years
Text
Set Up
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader
Words: ~3.3k
Summary: In which the Avengers are relentless in their attempts to get you and Steve together. If this means going great lengths such as sending you off on a mission-disguised romantic getaway to make you realize your feelings for one another, they’ll seize the chance at the very moment it’s presented to them.
Warnings: None. Just tooth-rotting fluff bc I’ve really been needing it ahaha
A/N: Set in an AU 2017 timeline in which they reunite a year after the whole Accords situation so that everyone’s happy :)
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"Rogers. Parasite. Stop watching Brooklyn Nine-Nine and get up, you need to get to the meeting room ASAP," Tony stated.
"Says the one who leeches off my granola bar supply," you grumbled as you shot him a death glare. "You've been doing this to me since I was a toddler. A helpless, two-year old against a 16 year-old demon always hungry for everyone's food but his own."
"Still holding the Full House cereal incident against me? Geez, woman, do you ever release your grudges against anyone," he sighed, rolling his eyes. "Now come on, let's go."
Exchanging a confused look with Steve, you stood up and followed Tony down the hallway to the meeting room, where Fury was with the rest of the team, waiting.
"Captain Rogers, Agent Y/N," Fury nodded curtly. "I presume you know what's going on?"
"No, sir."
"I need you two to track down a group of mercenaries in downtown Tokyo. You'll be flown out commercially so you can maintain a low profile. The whole process should take no longer than ten days," he explained as Natasha handed him the printed out flight details. "Further information will be given to you upon arrival."
"If it's just the two of us, then why is everyone here?" you pointed out.
"Barton and Maximoff will be checking in with you regularly; and if backup is necessary, I will fly one of them out to meet you. If you don't have any more questions, this meeting is now dismissed. You'll be departing late tonight so if I were you, I'd get to packing right about now."
...
Soon enough you were all packed and ready to go. Because you were too lazy to reach back into your suitcase and grab a sweatshirt, you took Steve's Dodgers hoodie and slipped it on, along with a pair of your favorite sweatpants.
"See you in ten days, okay?" Natasha pulled you in for a tight hug. "Make sure to keep Rogers company, it's a long flight. This is also the perfect opportunity to grow closer...literally."
"Oh shut up, Nat," you scoffed. "We're not...you know."
"Sure you aren't."
"Tony, why don't you get some good rest for once," you turned to your brother, "alright?"
"As long as you admit you're in love with Capsicle," he whispered into your ear.
"I can't admit what's not true."
"Yeah yeah, I can't understand bullshit."
"Tony."
"Y/N," he mocked. "Anyway. Have a safe trip, don't die, yada yada yada."
"Yeah yeah, got it."
A few more rounds of goodbyes later, you and Steve were in the elevator with your luggage, heading down to where Phil was waiting to drive you to the airport.
Your flight was scheduled to take off at 1:45 in the morning, and it was close to 11 p.m when you arrived.
"Your tickets, please," the lady asked as you were about to board the plane. You took them out from your purse and handed them over to her. "Thank you."
"How long's the flight again?"
"Uh...about 14 hours. Pretty long," you replied, as you walked down the aisles, looking at the overhead letters for your seat. "24A, 24B...there we go. Wait, have you been to Japan before?"
"No, I haven't."
"You're gonna love it. They have the best, I tell you, best ramen, and curry, hands down. When Nat, Wanda, and I went on our girls' vacation last spring we wouldn't stop eating for two days straight. I know we're tracking down cold-blooded killers and all, but, it won't hurt to let loose a little, you know?"
"Yeah, definitely," Steve couldn't help but smile at how happy you looked while speaking. "You gotta be our tour guide. I'm trusting you'll lead us to the best ramen hotspots?"
"Oh yeah, I will."
After putting your things into the overhead bins, you settled into your seats. The armrest between you could be lifted convert the seats into a double bed, you quickly found out.
Shortly after taking off you felt yourself grow rather tired. Noticing your sleepiness, Steve raised the armrest and pressed the button to make the seats recline backwards, your head immediately falling against his broad chest. He smiled again, brushing stray hairs away from your forehead before pulling the blanket over your bodies and falling asleep as well.
Little did either one of you know, you were being sent off to Japan for a completely different reason that had absolutely nothing to deal with tracking down mercenaries.
...
The smell of food wakes you up several hours later. You stretched your arms up and ran a hand through your hair as you sat up, adjusting your neck pillow.
"Hey uh, how long were we out for?" you asked, voice still thick with sleep. Steve was already awake, in the middle of watching a movie on his TV.
"4 hours. You knocked out for 5. It's time for lunch...or dinner?"
You tapped your screen a few times to pull up the map of your flight's route. "Right now it's 7:30 p.m. in Tokyo. We're arriving at 4:45 in the morning, so I'd say dinner."
"You sleep okay?"
"Hm? Yeah," you yawned, rubbing your eyes and adjusting the sleeves of Steve's hoodie. "You make a good pillow."
"No problem," he chuckled. You then turned to the flight attendant, who handed you your meals.
"Fancy," you nodded in approval as you passed Steve's tray over to him. "First class sure has its perks...oh yes, miso soup."
You binged your way through several episodes of Pretty Little Liars, I Love Lucy, and Star Wars: A New Hope together. Afterwards, you purchased Wi-Fi so you could update the team on your status.
CHATROOM - AVENGERS ASSEMBLE
Natasha: Morning, lovebirds. You guys in the air already?
You: Yeah, we're eating dinner right now. What time is it back home?
Tony: 6:45 a.m. Pulled an all-nighter binge-watching The Office.
Bucky: Totally worth losing an entire night's worth of good sleep.
Y/N: But I still don't get why we couldn't take the Quinjet?
Steve: ^
Rhodey: Do we tell them now, or wait until they land in Haneda?
Wanda: I'd say now.
Pietro: NO NO NO MAKE IT A SURPRISE
Steve: ...What's going on?
Tony: There's no mission.
Y/N: Wait, what? Then what are we going to Tokyo for?
Tony: I purchased a romantic ten-day vacation package so that you two will hopefully realize your feelings for each other along the way. Thank me later.
Y/N: SCREW YOU
Tony: Enjoy eating all the ramen you want!
Natasha: We're so good at matchmaking.
Thor: May I suggest a virtual high-five?
Peter: VIRTUAL HIGH-FIVE :))
Thor: :))
Y/N has left the chat.
Steve has left the chat.
Tony: They're gonna thank me when they see the penthouse I bought.
Tony has left the chat.
"Well, guess we're going on vacation. At least there's more opportunities to eating good food," Steve shrugged.
"Yup." You felt your heartbeat pick up speed at the thought of being alone with him, for ten days, in a country that was considered both futuristic and romantic at the same time. "Plenty of time to eat ramen and sushi."
Deep down, he was glad that there wasn't any mission. And so were you.
You took an hour-long catnap before waking up again and playing a few rounds of Uno with him, then stayed up for the rest of the flight. You both knew you'd regret doing so because of the 13-hour time difference between NYC and Tokyo, but you were too excited to care at that moment.
You were dazed and still slightly tired when you disembarked the aircraft, so you didn't have any energy to question how you and Steve ended up with your fingers intertwined. Besides, you liked the way it felt.
At close to 5 in the morning, Haneda International was relatively quiet and not too busy, so immigration didn't take long. You didn't have to worry about being bombarded by fans, aside from the occasional foreign fan recognizing you two and asking for a quick autograph or picture.
Since you wanted to explore the airport a bit before taking the train downtown, you looked around at the various shops.
Being a former spy alongside Natasha before joining the Avengers, you were fluent in multiple languages, including Japanese, Russian, French, Spanish, and German. And despite having developed the habit of always preparing for what was to come, you were completely shocked hearing a perfect Japanese sentence roll out of Steve's mouth as he spoke to the cashier.
You practically swooned at how smooth his voice sounded.
"Kore wa ikuradesu ka?" He gestured to one of the kokeshi dolls on display dressed in a sapphire colored kimono with cherry blossom embroidery. (How much is this?)
"3500 yen," the lady replied, "Hatsubai-chū, 3000. Kōnyū shimasu ka?" (On sale, 3000. Would you like to buy it?)
"Hai, kōnyū shimasu." (Yes, I'd like to buy it.)
"Kanojo no tame ni?" (For her?)
"Hai." (Yes.)
She nodded, and Steve handed over several folded bills from his wallet after she finished bagging the item.
"Arigato, gokigen'yō," he thanked her. (Thank you, have a nice day)
"Anata modesu," she smiled warmly. (You too)
"Holy crap, you didn't tell me you were fluent in Japanese, Rogers," you gaped as you walked out of the store together. "When did you have the time to learn it?"
"Back during the Pearl Harbor bombing, Buck and I were sent off with the 107th to Hawaii. Figured it'd be useful if we learned a few phrases."
"Few?" you raised an eyebrow at him. "What you just did back there, that was not just a few phrases! That was fluency!"
"What can I say, I pick up on language quickly," he grinned, rubbing the back of his neck. He then handed you the bag with the doll inside. "Here, for you."
"You didn't have to—"
"Consider it my thank-you in advance for taking me to a good eatery," Steve explained.
After grabbing a quick breakfast of coffee and pastries, you took the elevator down to the train station.
You let out a sigh as you sat down, the cool air inside the train loosening the tension in your shoulders a bit. A short fifteen minutes later and you were back in one of your favorite cities in the world.
Steve took a picture of you as you were distracted from looking all around at the skyscrapers and people milling around, face lit up by all the bright and colorful signs, sending it to the chat.
Steve: Just arrived downtown. Got out of the airport half an hour ago.
Tony: Honeymooning Avengers, how cute
Sam: That's hot.
Steve: What time is it over there?
Wanda: We just finished eating lunch. You?
Steve: 7. Going to check into the penthouse. Talk to you guys later.
Wanda: Alright.
Sam: Have fun, lovebirdssssss
Steve has left the chat.
"So," he breathed out as he slipped his hand back into yours and you exited the station, "you ready to go check out where we're staying?"
"Yeah, definitely. You wanna take the subway again, or a taxi?"
"Subway. Actually..taxi. You sound nice when you speak in a foreign language."
"That's the only reason why you want to take a taxi?"
"Yeah, obviously," you scoffed. "I mean, why else?"
"Alright, if you insist," the super-soldier laughed.
A few minutes later, you'd called a taxi over and climbed into the backseat, strapping your seatbelts on.
"Ohayögozaimasu," (Good morning) the man greeted. "Ogenkidesuka?" (How are you) "Īdesu, anata wa?" Steve replied. (Good, and you?)
"Watashi mo jōzudesu. Doko ni ikitai?" (I am good, too. Where would you like to go?)
You looked at your phone, reading out the address of Tony's penthouse to the driver.
A few minutes passed in silence before he spoke up again. "Watashia wa anata-tachi o shitte imasu. Anata wa abenjãzudesu," the driver smiled, glancing at you two from the rearview mirror. (I know you two. You're the Avengers)
"Watashitachidesu," he returned his friendly grin. (We are!)
"Tōkyō ni kuru kikkake wa nanidesu ka?" (What made you come to Tokyo?)
"Chōdo kyūka no tame." (Just for vacation.)
"Nokori no taizai o o tanoshimi kudasai," he said as you were getting out of the car after paying. "Sayonara."
"Sayonara," you and Steve responded before closing the car door behind you.
"Wow," your jaw dropped as you took the elevator up, arriving at the top floor. "Tony actually bought...this...place?"
"Apparently," Steve shrugged, "we could come back and forth between here and the compound as often as we wanted."
The penthouse had a nice, dark aesthetic feel to it, with giant panoramic views of the entirety of Tokyo and modern furniture and spots of dimmed white lights in the ceiling to give off a relaxed vibe.
After unloading your things, you sat down at the giant couch together and decided to plan out the rest of your day.
"When CoCo Curry opens at 11, we can go eat there," you explained as you typed up the plan in a new note. "Tony also snagged us tickets to Tokyo Tower at 3 p.m, so we have a few hours to spare after lunch."
"We can explore the gardens,"  he suggested. "I know you love doing that. There's a botanical garden in Shinjuku we can go to."
"Oh, that one! I didn't have the chance to go last time, so that's perfect," you added 'Shinjuku Gardens' to your list.
Soon enough you had your entire day planned out, and were ready to head out once again.
CoCo Curry was a quaint, little restaurant that hit you with a wave of tantalizing scents as soon as you walked through the doors and sat down at the bar-style seating area where you could watch the chefs cook your food.
"Gonichiwa," you greeted the chef standing behind the counter.
"Gonichiwa," he smiled back. He asked for your orders, and since Steve wasn't sure what to get you had two orders of your favorite dish.
Besides another couple sitting a few seats away, the restaurant was empty so you got your food in under ten minutes. The steaming hot plates of curry rice were set in front of you, and you felt your mouth water as you inhaled the rich aroma.
"This is so good," Steve spoke in between bites. "I'm literally in love."
"Told you I knew my stuff."
You eventually finished eating, and after getting into a small argument with Steve over who would pay (He ended up winning). "It's payback for ordering me good eats," he explained.
"You said that when you bought me the kokeshi doll," you pointed out.
"Still."
This time you decided to go by foot instead of taking the taxi, as the gardens were only a half-hour or so walk from where you were.
"Right in the middle of cherry blossom season," you sighed as the sweet smell of cherries drifted through the air. "Perfect timing."
You walked around the entire place, stopping every so often to admire the various colorful plants or look up at the pastel pink cherry blossom trees, gravel crunching underfoot with each step you took.
The mid-April breeze lightly fanned your hair around your shoulders. Birds chirped out a delightful melody, flying around the cornflower-blue sky. It wasn't too hot or too cold, and that was one of the many things you loved about visiting Asia during the springtime; the weather was bearable, compared to New York City's below-freezing temperatures in winter. You vividly remembered visiting the botanical gardens in upstate New York on a school trip once, and from then on you'd grown attached.
In the centre of the garden was a large lake with flowering lily pads and on the other side of the bank stood a quaint little temple, with a wooden bridge across the middle so visitors could cross over and look at the koi below.
"It's beautiful here," Steve commented as you made your way down the sidewalk, "I wish they had places like this back home."
"Yeah it is, isn't it," you breathed out, unable to tear your eyes away from the lovely sights. "I could do this all day."
"Hey, that's my line," he joked. You chuckled quietly, slipping your hand into his. He laced your fingers together in response, and you felt the butterflies flutter around in your stomach again the longer he held on, and those butterflies turned into hummingbirds as you looked up to meet his piercing gaze.
You're not sure how long you stay like that, gazing into each others' eyes, but it's only when a little girl stops and asks to take a picture that you pull away.
"Captain America and Agent Y/N!" Judging by her looks, she seemed like she came from the US as well. "Can I get a picture with you guys?"
"Of course, sweetie," you smiled. You brushed off the weird feeling you got when your skin made contact with Steve's, and gestured for her to come closer.
Steve scooped the girl up into his arms as she held your hand, and the mother snapped a few quick pictures before he let her back down.
"Thank you!" she exclaimed before skipping away.
At 2:20 you decided to leave and head out to the Tokyo Tower early so you would be avoiding any possible long lines. You were up at the observation deck within twenty minutes.
"This is just....wow," you breathed out, in awe of the breathtaking view you got as you stared out the panoramic windows, the reflective walls casting thin rays of light onto your faces.
If you thought the view from your penthouse was nice, this was a hundred times better. You had almost nothing preventing you from being able to see the entire city in all directions. The sun was hanging high in the sky, the skyscrapers piercing the horizon like pins and needles.
Steve couldn't help but let his gaze linger on you, the way your face brightened up at the sight of Tokyo's stunning view, the way you laughed and smiled more than you ever did back home. It was a rare sight, and he wished he could see you in this state more often. Oh, the things he'd do to keep hearing your musical laugh and million-dollar smile.
...
The next day was jam-packed with activities. You took a two hour train ride down south to Osaka, exploring the cup noodles museum, shopping downtown in Dotonbori, and stuffing yourself with delicious pastries along the way. Before you headed back, you decided to stock up on groceries at the local market. 
You fell asleep almost as soon as your head hit the pillow that night, waking up to somehow finding yourself in Steve’s arms. You both woke up at the same time, confused as to how you had gotten yourselves into this position, but were too embarrassed and tired to ask. 
This time, you decided to stay within Tokyo, immersing yourselves in going to as many districts as you could and doing as much as possible. 
After a long day exploring the city, you were rather exhausted. With a cup of freshly brewed matcha in hand, you stayed quiet for a while as you soaked in the scenery, watching the city come alive late at night.
When Steve woke up from his nap a few hours later, he found you standing by the window. Smiling to himself, he got up, approaching you and wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, resting his chin atop your head.
"Hi," you greeted, setting your mug down on the coffee table besides you.
"Hey," he murmured into your ear. You closed your eyes and hummed quietly in response, letting your bodies rock back and forth to the rhythm of your steady heartbeats together.
"Watashi wa, anata o aishiteimasu," (I love you.)
A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "Watashi mo anata o aishitemasu, Cap." (I love you too, Cap.)
You stepped away so you could turn around to face him, and he pulled you back towards him and pressed his lips to yours.
He couldn't help but smile into the kiss, pulling you closer against him.
238 notes · View notes
ibijau · 4 years
Text
Worst engagement AU // on AO3
War is coming. War is coming. War is there, and Nie Huaisang never realised how much he had to lose.
warning for some mentions of violence and minor character death. Also, warning that this chapter is long (9.6K) so, uh... get comfy and grab a cup of liquid I guess?
With all his things packed for his upcoming trip to Lanling, Nie Huaisang feels he has earned a break which he decides to spend on the training grounds. Not to train, of course. He's already dealt with that earlier with Nie Zonghui, and he's in no hurry to do extra work. But it’s fun to watch others work out and try to capture their movements, and it’s a nice way to pass time. There’s probably other things Nie Huaisang should be doing, but his brother is currently absent, which means he’s free to do as he pleases.
Sitting on the side of the training grounds and sketching in charcoal, Nie Huaisang soon finds himself thinking of Lan Xichen rather than what he’s currently doing. It is not an uncommon occurrence these days. They had a rather great time together in Nightless City, getting to chat a lot either on their own or with Nie Huaisang’s friends, and they also got to kiss quite a few times. They were starting to get pretty good at that, Nie Huaisang likes to think. Before, he’s never bothered kissing the same person more than once or twice, but now that things are going well with Lan Xichen, he’s starting to really appreciate the concept of a steady partner.
Maybe it won’t be the worst thing ever, marrying Lan Xichen. In fact, Nie Huaisang is starting to really warm up to the idea. Even if the Cloud Recesses are a boring place, at least the company won’t be awful. Nie Huaisang is quite looking forward to going back there, and he’s already negotiated with Nie Mingjue that after having spent a week or two in Lanling, he’ll be allowed to push further south and stay a little in Gusu. By the time he gets there, there’s a chance Lan Qiren will have determined an auspicious date for the wedding and that’s… not so bad, really.
It’s odd to think that just a few months ago, the thought would have filled Nie Huaisang with dread, even disgust on a bad day. Now, he’s hoping that they’ll get married as soon after Lan Xichen turns twenty as possible. It’ll be a little scary to have his life change so radically, but it’s be exciting as well.
A commotion on the training grounds quickly brings Nie Huaisang’s attention back to the present. Everyone has dropped what they were doing and gathered around Nie Mingjue who apparently returned early from his business in Qinghe. This is already odd since he’d said it would take him all day, but odder still is the dark look on his face.
“All Night Hunts are cancelled until new orders,” Nie Mingjue announces as his brother comes closer. “No trips home. No leaving the Unclean Realm at all unless I have personally approved it.”
Murmurs run through the assembled disciples, but nobody dares ask questions. It’s easy enough to guess that it has something to do with Qishan Wen, since things have been growing so tense after that Discussion Conference. Still, when his brother walks away, Nie Huaisang follows him, worried about this new development.
“You’re not going to Lanling,” Nie Mingjue says before Nie Huaisang can even open his mouth. “You’re not going anywhere. I’m going to assign people to stay with you at all times from now on.”
“Did something happen?”
Nie Mingjue doesn’t answer, but motions for his brother to follow him into the nearest building, an armoury. After checking that it is currently empty, Nie Mingjue sets silencing talismans on the door. Watching him take such precautions, Nie Huaisang’s anxiety grows.
“Is it war?” he asks.
“Not yet, but it’s coming,” Nie Mingjue grunts, sitting down on a chest so quickly it feels more as if he collapsed. “Huaisang, they’ve burned the Cloud Recesses some days ago.”
Nie Huaisang’s legs give away under him, and he barely manages to go sit with his brother, all strength having left him.
“Xichen and Wangji…” he starts, only to find he can’t even ask that question without choking.
“I don’t know,” Nie Mingjue admits, pulling his brother into a tight hug. “I’ve not been able to get a clear picture of what happened yet. It’s possible that Lan Qiren and Qingheng-Jun have been wounded, but I don’t know how severely. My informant said that Lan Wangji was taken to Nightless City along with some other disciples of the sect. Nothing’s known yet about Xichen.”
Cold seizes Nie Huaisang, making it near impossible to breathe as he tries to realise how everything has suddenly changed. He buries himself against his brother’s chest, clinging to him like a lifeline. That desperation is mirrored in how tightly Nie Mingjue holds him back, as if Nie Huaisang might be taken from him if he let go for even a moment. 
-
This fear turns to reality the very next day when an envoy arrives from Nightless City, demanding that twenty Nie disciples be sent there to be properly educated in cultivation, one of which has to be from the Nie clan itself. Although there are distant cousins that could fit that description, the instant Nie Huaisang hears that message, he knows that it means him. To send anyone else would be an act of open rebellion.
While the Wen messenger is given a room to rest, the Nie council discuss what to do. It is jarring to Nie Huaisang to hear himself discussed as if he weren’t here, nothing but an asset, a pawn to be kept or sacrificed. Hearing how many of the elders are perfectly willing to let him become a hostage is a slap in the face, but ultimately not such a surprise. He’s a second son, and one born of a lesser union at that, so being used like this is to be expected. It’s not so different from the way he ended up engaged to Lan Xichen, although this time the risks are much higher.
If the Cloud Recesses hadn’t just been attacked, the situation would be different. Their strategy was always that Qinghe would be at the forefront of the upcoming war, with Gusu used as a secondary base. Now though, Nie Huaisang realises that they might well be back to the situation they were in before his engagement, without allies to count on. There’s no telling in what state the Cloud Recesses are, how bad the damage, how many people are still standing. All they know for sure is that Lan Wangji is already an hostage, and that doesn’t bode well for Gusu Lan’s current strength.
Nie Huaisang sees how torn his brother is on the subject, how much Nie Mingjue doesn’t want to send him to an uncertain fate, and he’s grateful for that.
But they all have a role to play in what’s about to happen, and this is his. If putting himself in danger can give his brother the time he needs to gather his forces, check on old allies and make new ones…
Second sons are always sacrificable. 
-
The Nie disciples are the first hostages to arrive at the training camp, and it quickly becomes obvious that the Wens have rushed when organising for this. Living spaces are still being prepared for the vast numbers of youth being brought in, and for a least half a shichen they're made to stand around because nobody knows where to send them, nor do they think at first of searching them for hidden weapons. It all gives Nie Huaisang the impression that maybe this whole thing wasn’t as carefully planned as his brother’s council believed. 
Since nobody really knows what to do with them, the Nies are thrown in with the Lans in an empty storage building while waiting for things to be ready for them. Although they are ordered not to chat, Nie Huaisang all but runs to Lan Wangji’s side the instant he sees him. He can’t help it, not when his friend is one of several Lan disciples sitting on the floor, looking pale and exhausted in a way Nie Huaisang has never seen him before, not even after that disastrous Night Hunt in Caiyi.
After exchanging a look with Nie Fangjie who comes to stand in front of them to block the guards' view, Nie Huaisang kneels down next to Lan Wangji. His friend glances at him but doesn't react. 
"What happened?" Nie Huaisang whispers as low as he can. "Mingjue says you were attacked?" 
Lan Wangji looks away but nods, almost imperceptibly. 
"Your brother?" 
"Ran," Lan Wangji sighs, barely more than a breath. "They wanted us to burn our library. Brother saved what he could." 
It's a relief to hear that Lan Xichen hasn't been killed. Nie Huaisang doesn't relax by any means, but he feels a little steadier knowing his fiancé is still alive. Still, that means Lan Xichen is on the run, possibly pursued by Wen cultivators. He is skilled enough that he should be able to defeat almost any enemy, although there's a big difference between fighting monsters and living humans. Nie Huaisang has often heard other Nie disciples say it takes a certain mindset to turn cultivation skills against another person. Hopefully, Lan Xichen will manage it, if it comes to that. 
"Your uncle ?" Nie Huaisang asks. 
"Fine." Lan Wangji hesitates, and glances toward the Wen guards who don't seem to have noticed their conversation. "My father…" 
"He's wounded?" 
A weak nod, and Lan Wangji looks so worried. It makes Nie Huaisang feel a little guilty because he wouldn't have thought to ask about Qingheng-Jun. He's so little around that it's easy to forget he's still sect leader, in theory. 
"And you?" 
Lan Wangji shrugs ever so slightly, even though they're something off about his posture that screams he's unwell. Between the normal stubbornness of the Lans, Lan Wangji’s own pride, and the fact the Wens must have ordered him to stay quiet about what happened, Nie Huaisang isn't sure how to extract the truth from him. 
That problem is solved by another Lan disciple coming to kneel next to Nie Huaisang. 
"They broke his leg," the boy explains. "We're taking turns helping him heal when they're not looking, but none of us have been properly trained in that." 
Lan Wangji glares at the disciple for telling on him, but the other boy doesn't seem phased by it. He's not a Lan proper, judging by his plain ribbon, so it's kind of impressive that he's not trembling before Lan Wangji. 
"Thanks, hm…" 
"Su She," the other boy says, in a tone that makes it clear Nie Huaisang should have already known that. He does look familiar. "Do you have any medicine?" 
"No, they confiscated everything. What does he need?" 
"Something to speed up the healing process," Su She assesses. "If it helps with the pain as well, good, because I doubt they'll go easy on any of us." 
"I'm fine," Lan Wangji protests, sounding offended. 
Su She rolls his eyes, clearly unimpressed with the second young master of his sect. Just for that, Nie Huaisang kinds of like him.
"I'll see if I can ask for medication," Nie Huaisang says. "Maybe if it's not a Lan it will work." 
When he stands up, Su She does the same and follows him, a little more closely than necessary but he looks so worried that Nie Huaisang allows it. 
"Don't be like that, he'll be fine," he tells the other boy. "Those Lan clan boys look all willowy and delicate but they're tough." 
"I hope so," Su She mutters. "He's the only hostage of value from our sect. If he dies, I'm not sure they'll bother keeping the rest of us." 
It's a remark which sends shivers down Nie Huaisang’s spine. He's been so busy worrying about his own safety that he didn't even take a second to consider that of the other disciples. To make it worse, knowing Nie Mingjue, there's a good chance he asked the other boys to keep him safe. Their lives could depend on his capacity to stay out of trouble. It's terrifying, and it makes Nie Huaisang want to stay away from the Wens, but he can't. Lan Wangji really needs medicine. 
Nie Huaisang takes a deep, calming breath, puts on his most innocent smile, and slowly approaches the Wen guards watching over them. 
"Honoured hosts, may I make a small request?" he asks. "Someone here is wounded and needs a doctor, is there any chance one might be fetched?"
“Nobody is to be given any help,” the older of the two guards snaps. “If anyone got wounded it’s due to their unacceptable behaviour or their lack of skill. Either way, a lesson must be learned.”
“Ah! I knew he had to have deserved it!” Nie Huaisang exclaims. He doesn’t like this, doesn’t like working with enemies, but Lan Wangji is unwell and they’re all probably going to be here for a while. Days if they’re lucky. Months or even years if they’re not. Nie Huaisang has to do something about that. “What did he do?”
“He attacked Wen gongzi!” the second guard reveals, earning a gasp from Nie Huaisang and a glare from his colleague.
“What an idiot!” Nie Huaisang splutters, before pressing a hand against his mouth. “Sorry, I just mean… first it’s stupid in general to do that, but what, did he think he’d win?”
The younger guard snorts, while his slightly older colleague scowls at Nie Huaisang and orders him away. It wouldn’t pay to insist right now, when everything is so uncertain and there’s no certainty these guards are going to still be around them once they’ve been moved to their true living quarters. He’ll have to try again later to see if they can be mellowed. The younger one seems an easier target, but it’s the other one who has authority, so he’s the one to win over.
He can do this. If he’s befriended Jin Zixuan, he can befriend anyone, even Wen guards who wouldn’t hesitate to murder him and everyone else in this room.
“What are you doing?” Nie Fangjie hisses at him when he rejoins the other Nie disciples.
“My best,” Nie Huaisang retorts, trying to recall every encounter he's ever had with Wen cultivators to decide how to win them over. “It’s all I can ever do.”
-
In the days that follow, more people keep arriving. It’s a comfort of sorts to be reunited with Jin Zixuan, Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian, because if there’s any physical danger, they can take care of it. Sure their swords too have been taken away upon arriving in Nightless City, but they’re all strong fighters so they can manage without. At the same time, the three of them are so damn proud that they keep getting on Wen Chao’s nerves, who has been put in charge of this indoctrination camp. Wei Wuxian in particular really needs to learn to shut up, although Jin Zixuan is hardly any better. Nie Huaisang likes him a lot, but at the moment it really shows that he’s used to being spoiled by his parents and has never been through anything rougher than his stay in Gusu before this.
While his friends get themselves in trouble, Nie Huaisang does his best to fraternise with the men who guard their living quarters. It seems hopeless at first because those Wens are well trained and fear their masters. But a lifetime in Qinghe Nie has taught him nobody is ever as tough as they try to look, and day after day, Nie Huaisang erodes their barriers until one night one of them makes a comment against Gusu Lan in front of him. That’s a subject on which Nie Huaisang has a lot of experience complaining, so he starts describing how awful the food is there. The guards refuse to believe some of his descriptions, swearing he has to be exaggerating, but Nie Huaisang insists, going so far as to offer to cook a certain dish for them since he found the recipe once. They’re laughing as they send him back to his disciples. It feels like a victory.
Two days later, Nie Huaisang faints while returning from a Night Hunt organised by Wen Chao, and pitifully begs one guard if he really can’t have something to help him get better. He cries a few tears as he explains how his weak golden core won’t let him heal properly. He cries again when the man does bring him a few pills which he shares with Lan Wangji the first chance he gets.
“That wasn’t necessary,” Lan Wangji scolds him, though he does take the medicine. “They will think you’re weak now.”
“I am weak. Might as well use it. Listen, I’m keeping the rest for now but I’ll give you more tomorrow, ok? We’re going to get you back to health, I swear!”
That same day, Nie Huaisang finds himself giving another pill to someone else, a boy who was whipped half to death by Wen Chao for getting mud on his robes and made an example of. The next day, another pill goes to Lan Wangji, and the fourth again to that other boy. While treating him, Nie Huaisang gets asked by someone else if he can also treat one of their friends who was wounded during the latest Night Hunt. He already only has seven pills left. 
Nie Huaisang suddenly realises how precious these are, and how he can’t give them away as easily as he'd like. He has to decide who to treat and who must keep suffering because there’s no knowing when he’ll get medicine again... and what if he gives away his last pill right before someone really needs it? The shock of that realisation rattles him to his core, making him want to crumble and cry. Instead he politely declines the cry for help from that boy whose friend should be fine again in a few days. He also stores in a corner of his mind the horror and helplessness of this responsibility he never asked for.
It’ll be a useful feeling to remember if he ever needs to cry on command.
Even with careful rationing, the pills slowly go away. Lan Wangji is healing, but not as well as he could be because Wen Chao always finds ways to make him use his leg and put weight on it. All the pills can do at this point is prevent the bone from breaking again.
One afternoon, a girl comes and asks him to help her mistress. Her sect is one of the few that sent girls, because it’s so small it couldn’t get twenty people otherwise. To make it worse, the sect leader only had a daughter to send, since his son is far too young. That daughter got on the wrong side of Wang Lingjiao, and had her back whipped over some invented offence.
“She has a weak golden core,” Luo Qingyang explains. “We’re trying to heal her, but Wang Lingjiao keeps finding excuses to stop us. She’s decided that Wen Chao was flirting with our mistress and she wants to make sure it won’t happen again.”
Nie Huaisang winces. Wang Lingjiao and Wen Chao really found each other. Maybe she’s the one he should have married, instead of his poor wife who has been sent back to her family with her baby (guard talks, they like gossip, and Nie Huaisang listens to everything because someday he’ll go home and something might be useful to Nie Mingjue). Nie Huaisang only has two pills left, but it's fine. They're going on another Night Hunt tomorrow, he'll just have to make himself faint again. It's easy when you know how. 
He gives Luo Qingyang a pill, in exchange for which she gives him a little sachet of fragrant herbs.
“It doesn’t really do much,” she says with an apologetic smile. “But it’ll keep the bugs away.”
“You don’t have to…”
“Neither do you,” Luo Qingyang cuts him. “But since you’re doing it… at least, now you can avoid mosquito bites.”
It’s such a small thing, but Nie Huaisang accepts the sachet as if it were the more precious thing in the world. The herbs inside smell so nice while the sachet itself is prettily embroidered, and after a few weeks in this stupid camp, he's just desperate to have something pleasant.
-
The location of their next Night Hunt is a place called Dusk Creek Mountain. It is neither more nor less unpleasant to look at than the other Night Hunting spots Wen Chao has taken them to, yet there’s something in the air that unsettles Nie Huaisang. It might just be that the Wens are particularly excited this time, making him fear that they’re after something a little bigger than the previous creatures they’ve been sent after. He gets a little fearful when Wen Chao reveals that they are to look for a cave. Nie Huaisang doesn’t go Night Hunting if he has a choice, but he’s heard stories and generally, caves never bring anything good. To make it worse, the forced walk to Dusk Creek Mountain has undone much of the progress they’d managed in healing Lan Wangji’s leg, to the point that even other people were starting to notice.
“Is it true what they say?” Jin Zixuan asks Nie Huaisang as they walk side by side, supposedly looking for that blasted cave but actually observing Lan Wangji who on top of everything else is now being bothered by Wei Wuxian.
“People say a lot of things,” Nie Huaisang carefully replies, checking around that no Wens are close enough to hear.
“They say Sect Leader Lan and Lan Xichen have been killed,” Jin Zixuan whispers. “At first I didn’t think that was possible because Lan Wangji didn’t look so bad, but now…”
“Nobody knows for sure what’s up with them,” Nie Huaisang cuts him dryly. “Not even Wangji. Don’t listen to rumours like that, and don’t spread them either.”
His fists clench at his sides, and he’s forced to look away from Lan Wangji. After a short moment, Jin Zixuan puts one hand on his shoulder and stares at him with what can only be called pity.
Back during that conference in Nightless City, Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen got a little careless with kissing, and so the others caught them like that. Wei Wuxian teased them mercilessly, Jiang Cheng scolded them for doing something like that in public (even though they’d found a very nice and quiet little spot where nobody should have found them), and Jin Zixuan… Jin Zixuan’s reaction had been the worst. He’d looked at Nie Huaisang with understanding, as if guessing something that Nie Huaisang himself hadn’t been quite ready to face yet. He still isn’t ready to face it. He’s not sure there’s anything left to face, because if Lan Xichen is dead…
Nie Huaisang takes a deep breath, and pushes that thought away, as he’s done countless times since first hearing about the burning of the Cloud Recesses. He’ll worry about that the day there’s real news. Until then, it’s best not to think about it at all.
Thankfully, the cave’s entrance is found soon after, giving Nie Huaisang something a little more concrete to worry about. Crawling underground and looking for some unknown beast leaves little time to think about anything but the situation at hand. Since Jin Zixuan went his own way by being one of the first ones to enter the cave to avoid talking to Wen Chao, Nie Huaisang mostly sticks with the other disciples of his own sect as they fearfully try to hunt a prey they know nothing about.
When they reach a dark underground lake and still find no trace of any beast, Wen Chao loses patience and decides to bleed someone to use as bait. Nie Huaisang tenses and fights an impulse to hide behind Nie Fangjie. It’s not going to be him, he’s too valuable as a hostage, but… but Wen Chao doesn’t always make the smartest of decisions, and Nie Huaisang is definitely one of the weakest cultivators present, which their ‘host’ has noticed and made fun of more than once.
In the end though, Wen Chao’s mistress picks someone else as the offered bait.
It’s the girl from the other day, the one who begged for medicine and gave him that little sachet of herbs. The situation would be awful anyway, but the fact that they chatted once makes it somewhat personal. But just like with the pills, Nie Huaisang finds himself forced to calculate the worth of another person’s suffering. This girl will be hurt and she might die from being used as bait. In fact, it’s likely Wang Lingjiao will do her best to get her killed. But anyone who tries to intercede will likely be killed as well, and they might not even get to save her.
It’s made worse by the fact that while Nie Huaisang himself can’t do anything, he knows exactly how to get the other Nies to intervene. They are sworn to protect him, so if he puts himself in harm’s way, they will fight for him and for that girl. He could try to save her. He could get his disciples killed one after the other just to feel like a hero.
To Nie Huaisang’s relief and horror, Luo Qingyang finds protection behind Lan Wangji and Jin Zixuan who stand firm before Wen Chao, forcing Nie Huaisang to go through the entire choice of whether to intervene all over again. The life of a stranger against the lives of his brother’s disciples was a hard thing to decide. The life of two of his closest friends, or the disciples? In either case he’s going to lose people who are his, and that’s unbearable.
When Wen Chao sends his disciples to attack Jin Zixuan and Lan Wangji, the choice becomes obvious. Nie Huaisang launches himself to join the Jin and Lan disciples defending their young masters, followed by his own disciples. 
It's not so hard at first. It's remarkably similar to his training sessions with Nie Zonghui, especially since he had started learning how to deal with armed adversaries. If he ignores the killing intent of their adversaries, everything is fine, it’s just like training.
Everything is fine.
Until Jin Zixuan, exhausted by the long trek to the mountain and struggling to fight without a weapon, doesn’t notice one Wen disciple ready to stab him in the back. Nie Huaisang moves without thinking, and strikes without restraining his strength as he normally does. There's a sickening crack when his hand makes contact with the man’s chest, bones caving in under the force of the impact. The man falls, twitches a few seconds, then stops moving entirely.
Even though the fighting continues all around, Nie Huaisang stares at the body. At the corpse, he slowly realises. He realises, also, that he knows that Wen disciple, as he is (was) among those to guard the hostages in Qishan. Nie Huaisang has laughed with this man and done his best to befriend him, only to now have killed him. He’s done this, he’s killed someone, and…
Jin Zixuan bends over the corpse to steal his sword, then turns to Nie Huaisang to grasp his shoulder and shake him lightly.
“Focus!” he orders. “It was him or me, you had no choice.”
“But he’s…”
“You’ll die as well if you don’t focus,” Jin Zixuan hisses. “You’ll think about it later, for now keep fighting!”
Nie Huaisang nods weakly and gets back to a fighting stance, pretending he cannot see the man on the ground. He’ll deal with this later. He’ll deal with so many things later. He doesn’t want later to ever arrive.
Not long after, Wei Wuxian manages to get a hold of Wen Chao and for a brief moment, Nie Huaisang tells himself that it’s over. They’re the only with a hostage now, they can leave this cave, they can maybe even go home and take Wen Chao with them, reversing the situation somewhat. It's his the first glimmer of hope in weeks.
It gets ruined when an enormous monster of a turtle emerges from the lake and starts attacking all of them indifferently, when Wen Chao manages to escape from Wei Wuxian, when the Wen flee from the cave and trap the rest of them in the dark to be either devoured by the monster or die of starvation. Nie Huaisang can only share in the general hopelessness until Lan Wangji speaks of a way out, soon supported in that assessment by Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng.
While a plan is formed for an escape, Nie Huaisang can do nothing more than to follow along. He’s lucky enough to be among the people who can swim, thanks to his stay in Lotus Piers a few months before, so he ends up helping a few wounded people get to the hole in the lake through which they are set to escape. Still he’s not the strongest of swimmers, and the underwater route is just long enough that his lungs are burning from lack of air by the time he breaks the surface outside. He helps those with him to reach firm ground, then returns to the water alongside Jin Zixuan so they can give a hand as more and more people get out. After a long while, Jiang Cheng too appears, holding three boys who look a little worse for wear.
“Where are Wangi and Wuxian?” Nie Huaisang asks, surprised not to see them in what should have been the last batch of people escaping.
“Still inside,” Jiang Cheng grunts. “They were fighting the monster, I’ll try to go back for them. Check on the wounded, see what can be done for them. Do you still have any of your pills?”
“I gave the last one to Wangji yesterday,” Nie Huaisang confesses, horrified that his worst fear has come true. “His leg was causing him so much pain he could barely walk, I didn’t know, I couldn’t guess…”
Jiang Cheng huffs and shrugs, taking only a moment to rest before he dives again. Feeling guilty that he squandered those precious few pills before they had a chance to be really useful, Nie Huaisang starts looking at the other people. Some seem perfectly healthy, having stayed out of the fight with the Wens and out of range of the monster turtle. Others have serious wounds, which their friends are trying to treat as best as they can when nobody has much energy to spare. Luo Qingyang goes from group to group, offering the last of her scented sachets and explaining that they contain some herbs that might at least soothe the pain and keep the wounds clean, if nothing else. Nie Huaisang tries to do the same with the one she gifted him, if only to feel a little more useful.
Before too long, Jiang Cheng leaves the water, still alone, looking deathly pale, and calls for Nie Huaisang and Jin Zixuan who promptly join him.
“The exit is blocked,” he announces in a pained voice. “Something must have collapsed inside the cave. They’re trapped.”
At the news, Nie Huaisang nearly collapses.
“Is there any way to reopen the passage? If we all work together, maybe…”
“Not with the state everyone is in,” Jin Zixuan cuts him, so cold and detached that Nie Huaisang wants to punch him in the face. “And the Wens might be guarding the other exit, even if we reached it. In fact, we’d probably do well not to linger in these woods too long. Wen Chao’s pride took a severe blow and I doubt he’s going to learn forgiveness in the coming hours.”
"We can't abandon them!" 
"We won't," Jiang Cheng retorts. "What's the nearest sect from here? I'll run and get help there." 
After some head scratching, they figure that actually, Gusu Lan is the nearest from this mountain. But after quickly asking the Lan disciples present, Jiang Cheng decides that it's too risky to go there when the entire place might have been destroyed. For all they know, these boys are the only Lan disciples still standing. The second nearest place is Lotus Piers, and while it's further away, that has the advantage that Jiang Cheng will easily get the help he needs. Without losing a moment more, Jiang Cheng and the other Jiang disciples set out toward home, leaving the others to fend for themselves. 
What to do next pauses a bit of a problem. There's a very real risk that Wen Chao might hunt them down and attempt to kill them if they don't swear secrecy. It would be easy to then say those who refused to cooperate just died during the Night Hunt. These things happen, and most sects are ready to turn a blind eye to avoid a war. 
"I can take some people into my father's territory," Jin Zixuan whispers to Nie Huaisang as they try to decide what to do. "But only if their sect has an alliance with Lanling. In these circumstances, my father is sure to find some excuse to refuse entrance to anyone else if it can avoid offending the Wens." 
"My brother will take anyone, I think," Nie Huaisang replies. "But Qinghe is pretty far and some of them are badly wounded, they wouldn't make it." He pauses and looks around at the people around them, waiting for their decision. Since they are from the bigger sects, everyone seems to have decided they're in charge. Nie Huaisang hates it, but it can't be helped and he'll do his best. "What if we pulled a little deception on your father?" 
"What do you have in mind?" 
"Anyone who's badly wounded gets passed as a clan allied to yours. It's just a matter of switching robes. No offence, but I don't think your father has ever looked at a junior disciple from his own sect, let alone others. It will work." 
Jin Zixuan readily agrees, clearly sharing his friend's view of his father on that matter.
The hardest part of that plan, it turns out, is convincing those who aren't wounded to give up a chance to go home quickly. Nie Huaisang begs and pleads in favour of the wounded, but what really convinces everyone is seeing the better off Lans give away their still impeccable robes and offer them to those who are unwell, then putting on their other's dirty, bloodied garbs. Gusu Lan is not formally an ally of Lanling Jin, but its reputation is such that Jin Guangshan wouldn't dare to turn them away, not even after what the Wens did to it. After this, disciples of other sects feel shamed into helping as well.
Once everyone is dressed, Jin Zixuan heads one way with the wounded and whoever still gets to come along, while Nie Huaisang and the rest go another way. 
It's an awfully long trek home. They start out with a lot of people, but as they travel north toward Qinghe, some people break off from the group as they pass through their sect's territory. Others don't dare do that, no matter how close to home they get, fearful of what the Wen might do in reaction to what happened and hoping the Unclean Realm will offer more protection. War is coming, Nie Huaisang can feel it. He tries not to think about it. Like everything else he pushes the thought aside and focus on the task at hand, on getting all these people to safety. 
By the time they get there at last, over two weeks have passed. It would have taken longer if they hadn't been cultivators, and thus capable of walking faster and longer than regular people, but for the first time in his life, Nie Huaisang wishes he'd had his sabre. Then the journey would have been over in just a few days. 
As soon as they pass the borders of Qinghe Nie's territory, the freed hostages are found and welcomed by a party of Nie cultivators led by Nie Mingjue himself. Everyone is led to a temporary camp, given food and water, checked for wounds and generally cared for. 
"Your friend Jin Zixuan sent a message you'd be arriving," Nie Mingjue explains when his brother falls into his arms, the two of them holding each other as tight as they can. "Two days more and I'd have gone looking even into Wen territory." 
"Zixuan made it?" 
"Hm. And the Jiangs were able to rescue Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian, they're both home."
The relief is so intense that Nie Huaisang’s legs give away. He'd fall to his knees if his brother's grasp on him weren't so strong. Everything is fine, everyone he cares about is alive and well. 
Almost everyone. 
"What about Xichen? Did you get news? It's been two months, he must have come home now, right?" 
Even before his brother answers, Nie Huaisang feels the way Nie Mingjue’s arms tighten around him, feels his brother's heart racing in his chest. 
"Nothing yet," Nie Mingjue whispers. "But his father passed away not long after you all escaped, so he's sure to return soon."
"And if he doesn't?" Nie Huaisang asks, nearly a whimper. "Mingjue what if he's…" 
"He'll come back," his brother cuts him. "So stop worrying, come eat something, and tell me what happened." 
Nie Huaisang obeys, as best as he can, but food tastes of nothing and gets stuck in his throat. 
Two months is too long without news. 
-
Once all the escaped disciples are fed and rested, Nie Mingjue takes all of them back to the Unclean Realm and sends messages to their sects so they know they are safe and can be picked up.
The war hasn’t started yet, but its shadow grows ever darker over their heads. All it will take now is a spark. Nie Huaisang thought the incident at Dusk Creek Mountain might be enough, but the smaller sects are still unsure about opposing Qishan Wen even after this, while Lanling Jin and Yunmeng Jiang seem to cling to the hope that things won’t go that far. Nie Mingjue is both disappointed and angry at Jin Guangshan and Jiang Fengmian, and he doesn’t hesitate to let it be known during his councils, often using swear words Nie Huaisang didn’t even know existed.
It shouldn’t be a surprise though. Nie Mingjue’s council, made up of men the same age as the other sect leaders or older, are also begging him not to be too hot-headed because wars are easy to start and difficult to end. It annoys him and, to a lesser degree, it annoys Nie Huaisang that what he and the others went through, what happened to the Cloud Recesses, still isn’t enough to justify rising against the Wens.
He wonders, more than a few times, if anything will ever be enough or if these old men will keep making excuses until one day they all wear the red of Qishan Wen.
The answer to that question comes sooner than Nie Huaisang would have liked, and more brutally too.
It starts with a messenger running into the Unclean Realm at sunrise, demanding to see Nie Mingjue immediately. A quarter of a shichen later, an emergency council is called to which Nie Huaisang, for once, is not invited, mostly because it’s too early for him to be awake. That council goes on and on for over half the day, without even a break for food or tea. It gets worrying enough that Nie Huaisang gives up on doing anything else that day and just sits by the door of the throne room, waiting to hear the news. He could go to his secret alcove and find out. He doesn’t. However much he wants to know what’s happening, he’s also terrified by it. Something, he feels, is about to change.
It is mid-afternoon when the door to the throne room opens and the council members exit in silence. They don’t look at Nie Huaisang. They don’t even look at one another, their faces turned to dark masks as they all go their separate ways with resigned determination. Nie Huaisang waits until the last of them has gone before he barges into the room, barely taking the time to close the door behind him before turning his gaze on his brother, and…
Something is wrong.
Nie Mingjue is sitting on his throne, resting his hand on his chin, his eyes glassy and distant. He doesn’t turn to look at his brother, not even when Nie Huaisang hesitantly walks closer. He looks.
He looks so old.
A bit like he did after their father fell into a sleep from which he’d never wake again, forcing his eldest son to bear a weight he wasn’t prepared for. Nie Mingjue looks too old, and he looks too young.
Nie Huaisang doesn’t need to ask. There’s only one thing that could put his brother in such a state.
He asks anyway.
“Is it happening?”
“Yes,” Nie Mingjue whispers, refusing to look at his brother. “It can’t be avoided anymore. This is war.” In a way, Nie Huaisang has spent his entire life waiting to hear these words. He thought he was prepared for them. They still shock him.
This is war.
“What decided it, in the end?” he asks.
Nie Mingjue, slowly, turns his eyes to his brother, his sorrow deepening in a way Nie Huaisang wouldn’t have thought possible.
"Lotus Piers has been destroyed."
Nie Huaisang stops breathing for a second and stares at his brother. He can’t have heard that right. It can’t be true. He doesn’t want it to be true.
"Did… did Jiang Wanyin and Wei Wuxian… Th-They made it out, right?" 
Nie Mingjue's face hardens as he shakes his head. 
"Huaisang. There are no survivors. The Wens killed everyone, even the children and elderly. There’s no more Yunmeng Jiang."
Nie Huaisang can’t breathe. When his brother opens his arms, he can only run to him and let himself be pulled on Nie Mingjue’s lap like he’s six again and needs to be held after a nightmare.
“I’m sorry,” Nie Mingjue whispers, clinging to him too tight, almost hurting him. “I’m sorry, it shouldn’t have happened, we should have attacked them first, we should have attacked when they burned the Cloud Recesses, I’m sorry.”
Breaking into tears, Nie Huaisang nods, then shakes his head. It shouldn’t have happened. It can’t have happened. Jiang Cheng is his best friend, and he likes Wei Wuxian a lot as well, and they’re so brave and so strong, they can’t be dead. He doesn’t want them to be dead. It’s unfair that they are dead.
“Qinghe is about to get too dangerous,” Nie Mingjue sighs. “I’m sending you away to Gusu.”
The words are like a lightning strike. Nie Huaisang startles and tears himself away from his brother’s embrace so abruptly that he falls on the floor.
“No, I’m staying!” he cries out. “Let me stay, I can help! I’ll fight too if you want, I’ll train at the sabre for real, I’ll do whatever you want! Don’t make me go away!”
“That’s not up for negotiations, Huaisang.”
“Then somewhere else! Lanling is going to join us, right? Maybe I can go there?”
“We don’t know yet what Lanling will do. Jin Guangshan probably won’t pick a side until he’s certain of the winner. You’re going to the Cloud Recesses, they're our allies.”
“Don't send me to Gusu," Nie Huaisang begs, the very idea making him nearly sick. To be there again, without Jiang Cheng, without Lan Xichen… "Anywhere but there, I can't go there!"
Nie Mingjue looks exhausted, enough so that Nie Huaisang nearly feels guilty for throwing a tantrum and adding to his brother’s troubles. But he cannot return to the Cloud Recesses, not like this, not if there isn’t anybody there to wait for him. Nie Mingjue sighs and grabs him by the arm, pulling both of them to their feet.
"The Wens think it's out of commission,” he explains in a wearied voice. “It's unlikely to be attacked again, especially if the rest of us band together and bring the front lines to them.” Nie Mingjue hesitates. “It'll also be the first place to know if Lan Xichen re-emerges."
Nie Huaisang starts crying again.
"It'll be the first to know also if he's dead," he whispers. "I don't… I don't want to know that. I can't… If he's dead, I never want to know." 
"Huaisang, that's not…" 
"I think I'm in love with him," he sobs, tears flowing down his cheeks. "No, I don’t think, I'm sure of it. Mingjue, I love him and he's probably dead and I can never tell him and… I don't want him to be d-dead, I want him to come b-back and I want us t-to get married and, and, and I miss him, and he's d-dead, and Wanyin is dead t-too, and, and…"
He starts choking on his tears at the realisation that his two favourite people are gone. He's never again going to chat with Jiang Cheng or pester him just for the fun of it, they're never going to train together again or to spend time reading side by side in silence. And Lan Xichen… They've lost so much time, they had just started to really get along, and just when they'd finally learned to see each other, just when they were so close to be happy… 
Nie Huaisang is no stranger to death, he saw his father agonise, he buried his own mother and his brother's, but this hits differently. He was so young for their mothers' deaths, and he never was close to his father. He doesn't remember it hurting so much back then. He doesn't remember this terror that it's only the beginning, that more people are going to die soon, that he might lose everything and he's powerless to stop it. 
It could be Lan Wangji or Jin Zixuan next. 
It could be Nie Mingjue. 
His tears double until he's drowning in them, until the only thing keeping him afloat is his brother’s tight hold on him. 
This war hasn't even started yet, and it has already taken so much from him. 
-
The next day, Nie Huaisang sets out for Gusu, a few older disciples coming with him for his protection and carry him, since his sabre has never been returned. As he passes the gates, he notices a young man barely older than himself talking with the guards. Another new recruit, one a little older than would normally be preferred but desperate times call for desperate measures. Nie Mingjue had accepted men older than himself.
It almost makes Nie Huaisang smile when the young man proudly presents a recommendation letter and looks elated at hearing that the sect leader in person will meet him. He must be unaware of the war brewing, of the need to check for spies. Nie Huaisang envies him that innocence. 
"Follow me, Meng Yao," he hears one of the guards say as he jumps on somebody's sabre, and envy turns to pity. 
Nie Huaisang wants to grab that young man and tell him to run before he too gets crushed in the great horror that's coming. 
He doesn't. His brother needs all the men he can get now that the worst has come to pass.
-
The Cloud Recesses have become a desolate place which Nie Huaisang would hate if he still had the energy for it. Some parts of it are nearly intact, such as most of the cabins for guest disciples, and the juniors and outer disciples' dorms. Others are nothing but rubble, like the houses of the main clan, the library, the armoury. 
Even though he has been given plenty to do by Lan Qiren (juniors to oversee, letters to write, guests to welcomes… Everything he would have done someday as the sect leader's spouse) Nie Huaisang still finds time to wander those ruins daily, constantly amazed by the destruction around him. 
Less than a year ago, he was sitting in the library, copying lines with Jiang Wanyin at his side because of some stupid idea Nie Huaisang had. Less than six months ago he was holding Lan Xichen's hand in his house and promising to kiss him if he won a contest. 
Outside that same house, Nie Huaisang finds the tree on which Lan Xichen had attached that little bird feeder. Like so much around the main residence, it has been scorched. Some shards of the bowl are still scattered between the roots, so Nie Huaisang picks them up and brings them back to his room. It's stupid, and useless, but he wants to cling to anything that can remind him of Lan Xichen. 
A little under two weeks after Nie Huaisang arrives in the Cloud Recesses, a rumour reaches them, saying not everyone in Lotus Piers died after all. Jiang Yanli, by luck, was with her mother's family when the attack happened and thus survived. A half dozen disciples, out on a Night Hunt at the time of the attack, have also survived by returning too late to help in the fight, and they have gone to join their young mistress to protect her. All this is known and certain. Where the rumour starts is when people say that Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian were somehow able to escape as the rest of their sect was slaughtered. 
Nie Huaisang, at first, refuses to listen to such gossip. There is no way his friends would have abandoned their people like this, not even faced with certain death. They're not cowards like him. 
Still, when Lan Qiren himself calls him one evening and confirms that they're both alive, although Wei Wuxian seems to have gone missing, Nie Huaisang has to believe it. The old teacher even seems worried for Wei Wuxian, in spite of the dislike between them. Nie Huaisang wishes he could be worried, or happy. Instead all he can think after hearing the good news is that this mess is just starting, and they’re still likely to die, so there’s little point in rejoicing.
When that thought hits him, Nie Huaisang realises that something isn’t quite right with him. Ever since arriving in the Cloud Recesses, he’s done little more than go through the motion of what’s expected of him. It’s not so different from the way he felt when he returned home some months ago, only made worse by everything that’s happening. He considers, briefly, asking Lan Qiren if he can play that song Lan Xichen used, the one that soothed him and helped him handle his worried a little better for a while.
He decides against it. He doesn't know the title, Lan Qiren is busy, and he doesn't want to hear it played by anyone who isn't Lan Xichen. Besides, misery is a companion like any others at this point. The only companion he has left, in fact.
After news of Jiang Cheng’s survival arrived, more and more rumours reach the Cloud Recesses. An alliance has been formed between the Great Sects with more and more small sects being drawn to their side, Wei Wuxian has been murdered and skinned and turned into a flag as warning, Lan Wangji is helping Jiang Cheng look for Wei Wuxian, Jiang Yanli is going to marry Lan Wangji, Jiang Yanli is going to marry Jin Zixuan, Wen Ruohan’s protégée Wen Qing is going to defect and marry Jiang Cheng, Jin Guangshan has been murdered by a Wen assassin, Jin Guangshan is threatening to betray the alliance and join the Wen…
Gossip is forbidden in the Cloud Recesses, yet it thrives in this place too far from the front where only whispers reach.
Nie Huaisang withdraws as much as he can, and stops listening. He does his job, teaches the younger juniors who haven’t been drafted to fight, smiles and commiserates with the people who come to beg for help against creatures and have to be turned away because nobody can be spared, smiles and acts as Lan Qiren’s secretary when they have more important guests. 
He refuses to hear the rumours, refuses to let himself hope or despair. 
All he can do is continue existing until all this is over and he’s free to feel again.
-
Night is falling on the Cloud Recesses and, hidden away inside the room given to him in the dorms, Nie Huaisang awaits the curfew bell. He does not intend to go to sleep, but knowing that time still passes around him brings a comfort of sorts.
Tonight, he is having a good evening. Sometimes he does nothing but lay in bed and wait for sleep to overtake him until dawn returns, but today Nie Huaisang actually has some energy to spare. He puts it in repairing that broken bird feeder he found when he just arrived in the Cloud Recesses, which might have been yesterday or ten years ago. It’s useless, there are pieces he never managed to find, but it’s calming in a way few things are lately.
A knock on his door startles Nie Huaisang so badly that he almost ruins his work by dropping the bowl. He stares at the door, unsure if he heard right. He can’t have heard right. Nobody ever really speaks with him except for Lan Qiren, but he wouldn’t come here at such an hour… not unless it’s important, in which case he wouldn’t bother knocking.
Nie Huaisang stares, and waits.
Just as he’s accepting that he must have dreamed that sound, it gets repeated, a little more urgently, a little louder.
“Come in,” Nie Huaisang orders, rising to his feet so that he can defend himself if his visitor has ill intentions.
It’s not an assassin that enters his room.
It’s a ghost dressed in white.
Nie Huaisang, for the first time in weeks, is overcome with emotion as he launches himself at Lan Xichen, heavy tears blurring his vision. His fiancé is almost knocked over when Nie Huaisang comes to hug him and he lets out a slightly pained gasp at being held too tight, but that’s fine. Ghosts don’t stumble, ghosts don’t breathe, ghosts aren’t warm enough to be felt even through layers of fine fabric. Ghosts don’t pet people’s hair. Ghosts don’t return hugs.
“I’m here,” Lan Xichen whispers into his hair. “It’s fine, I’m here.”
“I thought you were dead!” Nie Huaisang sobs, relief tainted with anger over the pain he did not need to feel since Lan Xichen is alive.
His fiancé’s arms pull him closer, and Nie Huaisang feels a brief kiss against his temple.
“I’m so sorry,” Lan Xichen says. “I assumed uncle would have told you. I should have guessed he wouldn’t, I should have asked him to do it. We were trying to keep it secret but I trust you, I know you wouldn’t have told anyone. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
“I missed you,” Nie Huaisang whimpers, closing his eyes and pressing himself closer to his fiancé.
“I missed you too. I kept thinking of you. I was so worried when I heard about the indoctrination camp and about Dusk Creek Mountain. I’m so glad you’re fine. I don’t know what I would have done if something had happened to you.”
“I thought you were dead,” Nie Huaisang says once more, the only thing he can think of.
Lan Xichen doesn’t reply, but continues petting Nie Huaisang’s hair and rubbing his back until, slowly, the other boy starts calming down. His tears dry up, he breathes more easily than he has in weeks, and he pulls back a little from the hug to look at Lan Xichen.
The older boy is thinner than last time they saw each other. Older, too, in some inexplicable way. Nie Huaisang can’t help feeling that something is different on his fiancé’s face, some sort of lingering sadness that wasn’t there before. It might be just tiredness since it is getting late, but Nie Huaisang doesn’t think it’s anything that easy to solve. It hasn’t been so long, but they’ve both been changed by those last few months.
“May I come inside?” Lan Xichen asks. “I want to talk to you about something. Well, I want to talk about… many things, really, but one of them must come first.”
Nie Huaisang releases Lan Xichen from the hug, only to immediately take his hand as he pulls him inside the room. It’s so good to be holding hands like this again. He didn’t think he’d ever get to do it again.
“I’ve talked with your brother about something,” Lan Xichen announces as he closes the door behind him. “It is a matter on which he said he had no strong opinion, but you might, and he thought we should let you have the final word. Whatever you decide, it will be so.”
His tone is… odd. Wrong. He sounds the way he does when he tries to hide, which is something Nie Huaisang thought they had put behind them. But so much has happened, of course Lan Xichen might need to fall back on old habits, at least a little, until things get better.
“Now you’re scaring me a little,” Nie Huaisang still says. “What is it I’m meant to decide?”
Lan Xichen lets go of his hand.
“I want to cancel our engagement.”
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indomitablemegnolia · 3 years
Text
Languishing at the bar, ruby lips caressing my glamorously green margarita; the midnight purple dress hugged my body like a sports cars paint, black beaded fringe thrummed on my thighs as I moved my hips to the music, all road signs spoke of warning hazards; my goal, mayhem; I am tired of being this good reliable human; I have a deeply hidden and inarticulate desire for something beyond this daily life; I am here at this lovely bar, to test the morality of a priest, I am prowling, wanting, needing desperately to have an itch scratched, and finding; and needless to say, oh Lordy he was no priest. The single purple jeweled flower pinning my hair slipped making the picture perfect, exquisite, glittering in the sunshine of preening laughter showing the dulling edge of my personal lack of compunction and slipping morals. I watched his dark eyes watch me in the mirror, why him, I licked my lips, he was just the kind of naughty I had in mind; oh yes, there he is, exactly what I was hoping to find; I was just thinking, I am in the mood for some Latin spice. He watched me from a distance just waiting for his opening and here it was, I swilled the last of my drink through the red straw, reaching my tongue out to lick seductively at the salt; the song changed my laugh was unstoppable as the bartender flirted with me; he pounced sliding next to me; “Dos margaritas por favor” he held up two fingers; the bartender waited for me to approve before starting assemble the drinks in a shaker; he stood there smiling that suave smile at me sliding in close to me, running a hand along my back, I didn’t pull away “It is too beautiful of a night to be drinking alone.”
I took it, shrugging evocatively, dipping my top lip over the edge I took in a fair-sized drink, “So, how is the weather in Albuquerque?” I settled closer to him but not touching, never taking my eyes off of him in the mirror, he expected me to turn and look at him, I smiled a half smile and waited swirling my drink slowly.
Oh, the way he just let his full bottom lip lower, then hang still a little knocked askew; god that lip, so provocative, so titillating, so kissable; it was the perfect mismatch for his shaped cupids bow top lip; God though, the way his sensuous, heavy, pouty bottom lip hanging slightly ajar, showing interest and the evaluation that was being made; so enticing, seductively evocative; when his assessment was finished the muscles tensed in his cheeks pulling that mouth into the most provocative suave smile; given the deep, wildly dark abyss of his eyes that were swimming with approval and temptation; lord with the light crinkle to the corners and that smile sharp teeth and delicious dimples a belying innocence it was a dead certainty that he may well be Lucifer himself; solidifying my assumption as he spoke dropping the delicious sound-sex of his carnal voice down a full octave; letting it rumble through his chest; his simple words not seductive in and of themselves; goddamn, the concerted effort together all served to bring my pulse to life; his chuckle danced on my skin. I watched his satisfied lazy smile draw his lips as the offhand phrase that taunted like a dare. “Perhaps, we are lost in translation.” God that Latin lilt at the end of his words. The Oxytocin running through my veins thick as honey; “though as long as you stay, I hope that we are never found.” He clinked the rim of his glass on mine.
My eyes drawn away from those lips’ reflection; “Oh, darlin’, there is no translation for this, just instinct.” I licked the salt, snagging the cherry stem from the rim I pulled it into my mouth; I watched those terrible, sexy fingers rolling deliciously, accentuating the dare, telegraphing a none too subtle promise of delicate fiddling with my vivid, hungry nerves. Yes, this might be a mistake, but if all I do is all I have ever done, nothing will ever change; I have to break the cycle; nibbling the fruit from the stem my mind wandered from those hands.
God, this time of year, this season, there is not much in it to make me smile; it is not yet, not quite yet, the saddest time of the year; yet, there is a haunting sense of the imminent doom, like a bleak abeyance of life; it’s not stark introspective weather, grey and bleak, but none the less the blue skies, fresh green, seemed to be festering, suppurating, killing my soul, I know that time had run out; that horrible clock with the second hand ticking tightening the garrote around my neck painfully, slowly; Jesus what a sick suffocating weight; there are too many things that I wanted to feel, wanted to do and always time… that small hyphen between birth and death the ultimate cause of death… that time; I tied the stem into a knot using my tongue, pressing it back between my shiny lips, pulling it cleanly from my lips with a thumb and forefinger. The time to hesitate was through; my hand shook as I watched a delectable twinge running along that delicious bottom lip, like a smile still trying to hide; waiting for the trap to spring when I ask a simple single syllable question, the ubiquitous air of his words raised several; or did I miss part of the conversation? Should I ask… mmm why, or what, but no, I so not want to play his game; I double down and call the bluff, answering with a simple whispered. The trap is sprung, I really have no idea if it is, he who is caught or me.
“Yes.” My whisper much huskier than I had intended, my margarita wavering in my hand, my hip bumping his; his delicious thick brow shot up tilting his head slightly to the left, he let out a silent ‘what?’ I watched him in the mirror behind the bar, he hovered those dark delicious eyes staring into mine; I nodded, and again “Yes.” I smiled chewing lightly on my straw; I took joy in his face caught off guard, lazy smile pulled the edge of his lips; again, his lips waved in a silent, ‘what?’
“Oh, come on, I answered your real question, the one written in your eyes and on that sensual pouty lip, the answer is yes.”
He looked even more confused, “What is the question are you are answering?”
“Well, I have read promises written loosely in your fingertips, I saw previews of plans in your eyes, and lies you will tell to get there, on that lip.” I turned and stepped to him, running my thumb along that bottom lip. “Why go with pretense, so simply, I said yes, should I include a please?”
He chuckled and edged behind me turning me back to the mirror, pressing his forehead to the back of my head, his cool fingers sweeping my hair out of the way, he kissed the back of my hair, “Then no, mi cariño don’t say anything.” His eyes so lusciously dark and turbulent never looking away from mine in the mirror; “I want to watch you revel in the feel of my hot breath against your ear. Now I ask you;” he breathed in deeply, the cool air passing my skin into his lungs sent a shiver down my spine; the contrast in temperature mind blowing, my skin prickled into Goosebumps; “do not move.” He let his breath excite yet again, the warmth had all those tiny hairs stand to attention, his lips touched feather soft, moist warm breath, my heart kicked a little each pass of his lips, then words. “Te amo sin saber cómo, ni cuándo ni de dónde.” I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. His lips caressed the skin just behind my ear, “Te amo simplemente, sin problemas ni orgullo.” I love you simply, without problems or pride, his hands with those delicious rolling fingers danced down the satin at my sides, my breath shuddering; “te amo de esta manera porque no conozco otra forma de amar sino esta,” I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, his lips ghosted just along the edge of my ear sending small shivers through me, “en la que no hay yo ni tú, tan íntimo que tu mano sobre mi pecho es mi mano. Tan íntimo que cuando me duermo tus ojos se cierran.” so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close. My eyes reflexively flutter closed, and I lean back into him. I took a long breath, pulling away looking right into his
“Coelho?” Arching one eyebrow, I downed my margarita looking somewhat the part of the provocateur
“Si.” He looked cocky, he looked far too self-assured, so much so that I almost forgot my goal.
“Esto no es amor, es lujuria.” this is not love but lust… hmm, in my current state lust even the delectable word sounded so much more alluring en español.
“En este momento la lujuria functiona para mi.” in this moment lust works for me, oh yes it does for me as well. Good lord that word in his Spanish just added a delicious wanton edge to the overdose of libidinous delight that he wrought in me, making my head literally spin. His soft cool fingers delectably caressed the other side of my throat, his tongue ran lightly along the rim of my ear; I shivered still our eyes connected in the mirror, I was putty in his hands.
His lips danced along my neck commanding my already tittillated nerves into a frenzy; nuzzling with intent, his cheek pushing my head to a delicious angle, he feasted on the left side; his lips and teeth acting in a beautiful tango so delicious that I leaned back into him reaching behind me for an anchor; he gripped my wrists in one hand, using his other to sweep my hair such as it was to the other side as his libertine lips began to such and feast on the right side, “Ser mío no es fácil. Tengo expectativas Yo hago demandas.” Being mine is not easy. I have expectations. I fell back into him, his warmth reminding me that I was indeed alive for now, his tongue caressing the side of my neck. “Cuando ofrezco mi corazón espero devoción.” I make demands. When I offer my heart, I expect devotion, he devoted his tongue and teeth to appreciating my flesh, and I accepted. “Insisto en la pasión, cruda y completa, necesitada y fuera de control.” I insist on passion, raw and all encompassing, needy and out of control. He pulled me roughly to him, his hands claiming parts of my soul, “Quiero que me duela el corazón cuando estamos separados. Quiero que mis manos sean incapaces de no tocar su piel cuando esté cerca.” I want my heart to ache when we’re apart. I want my hands to be incapable of not touching your skin whenever you are near. His hands seemed to somehow bypass the satin of my dress and let him feast of my skin directly, I shivered; “Quiero que nuestros cuerpos se quemen cada vez que nos besamos. No puedo y nunca aceptaré nada menos. Por eso ser mío no es fácil, pero créeme, vale la pena.” I want our bodies to burn every time we kiss. I can’t and I will never accept anything less. That’s why being mine is not easy, but believe me, it’s absolutely fucking worth it. Needy and out of control I could do, I was on a mission for exactly that; I let myself ease into the moment, feeling as much as I possibly could devouring it as if it was my last chance at living, enjoying the sweet and the salt and … oh gosh, my eyes flared as he kicked it up a notch his tongue sliding from just behind my ear to the spot where all nerves collide where shoulder and neck meet, my eyes fluttered; apparently to get my attention back his free hand traced across my bare flesh just above my modest neckline, dipping lightly between my breasts.
Jittery my attention came front and center back on his eyes; I raised a single eyebrow; "¿Quién dijo que era tuyo?” Who ever said I was yours? His lips again moved along my neck to the place where neck meets shoulder, I became soft in his hands; his free hand caressing up to the edge of my chin, coaxing my head turning it, he kissed along my clavicle; my eyes finally rolled closed as he kissed my lips, he tasted of strong tequila, lime and dreams; I moaned softly.
“Oh, you just did, right there. No translation needed for that…” his hands more licentious pushing farther “Voy a probar, disfrutar del calor de su sabor embriagador.” I want to breathe in your sighs. He kissed me roughly, my breath leaving in a sigh, “Quiero respirar tus suspiros; quiero sentirte desde adentro,” I’m going to try, to enjoy the heat of its heady taste; he kissed me deep again, “I am drawn to you, like a moth to fire, he kept his glorious mouth moving, all tongue and teeth and temptation, “I see a frantic almost panic on you;” his hand still holding mine in check, “I have you safe here,” his loose hand pulling me to him; “I hunger for your touch after get you excited and how easy it is.” Neck kissing, is honestly the most sensual, seductive things that I have ever known, but when it is done as well as this gorgeous man is… it is not just a syllogy for sex, I feel his talented tongue slide on my skin, we may as well be going at it right on the bar. “Deliciosa, caliente, con una gota de salsa picante” Delicious, hot, like a drop of hot sauce. He gripped my wrist spun me on the stool, taking off at a run.
We made it as far as the dance floor where he stopped suddenly, turning with accentuated drama. The smooth rolling bass, guitar plucking with an ironic blusey twang; my soul soaked deep in the delicious vibrations; the difference in the textures of the sound, graceful single plunking guitar with that light percussive slap, reverent, erotic. He closes the distance of those few inches between us, his dark deep eyes searching my face; I stretch my arm up above my head, arching back, his hands pulling me closer. At that second the song hits a soaring note, my pulse kicking up making me dizzy I confuse the feeling and I set myself soaring; my hips tolling into his, arms dropping to drape around his neck; we spun in tight circles; I laugh, his face intent; I watch the gentle subtle light refract through the beads of sweat that graced his brow. His grip on my waist strong, lifting me high on the music and we sink into the slower rolling bass again; a natural rhythm to our clashing hips, searching hands in this pulsating dance. His steps now slow rocking, like a playful cat pounce back and forth, rocking up onto the toes; delicious salty perspiration bonded his heather gray shirt to his glorious chest. Then closely he held me as we spin in small circles in a circuit around the room, he spins me out, only to retract me even closer to his tall frame. The music builds again soaring, romp of cross over foot work and dramatic hip work, our bodies meeting and clashing lending a dramatic friction between bodies, two souls.
Slowing again to that now extremely sensual bass roll, spinning in wide circles this time rolling me back into almost a dip on each half revolution, every time he pulls me back up we make a sizzling eye contact, the zing of it traveling my entire body making it to the tips of my toes. He spins me out pulling me back, his front to my back.
The pace picks up again, we step in a syncopated pattern, he pulls my arms in tight holding my body so close to his we may well become one, then spreading my arms wide, our hips taking a wide swinging cadence as we step, step, then spin. He spins me out leaving us at arm’s length from each other, the music slows rolling. He lowers his head; I take retreating steps as we keep to the sensuous rhythm. He pulls me in and close then out spinning me so many times I leave the earth far behind. Pulling me to him tight we keep the playful foot work a back and forth pounce, my face tucked close to the collar of his shirt, his fresh lavender and tea tree scent relaxing the last of my senses.
“So if you wake up with the sunrise;” he sang along with the music, “with all your dreams still brand new;” his lips caressing my neck, my ear; “happiness is what you need so badly…” his hands lifted me again, “girl you know it’s up to you…” he spins us again
Soon it feels as if my feet leave the earth, slowly using a foxtrot step on a delicate cloud, the rest of the world disappears and it’s just the riot of music, his hands and the feel of my soul on the melody singing my own vow of love, the moon and all the stars. The soft strum of guitars transports us away. His lips finding the rim of my ear caressing it sweetly whist we are spinning in small circles, making a completely transcendent feeling. We continue dancing for endless moments close, held in a spell. Slowly the world returns and finally I notice there is no longer that melody cradling us in its soft arms. I look up at his classic beautiful face; the world comes back into focus but the ethereal feeling still there. We smile softly at one another.
He danced me in circles, whirling me making me feel as if I were flying. He dipped me and lightly kissed me as the song ended. An argentine tango starts. He stops in his tracks and spins me to face him, a motion soaked with drama. I chew my bottom lip unsure of my ability; he wiggles that delicious eyebrow, giving me a new amazing smile. His beautiful straight teeth taking on a Big Bad Wolf glint as the look in his eyes goes from that ever-charming cavalier to dazzlingly predatory. My stomach drops out like the upswing on a roller coaster completely titillated, entranced by this new facet of his nature. With that smile he pulls me tight to him, our frames lock, we step and we are gone. My chin lowered nearly touching my chest a coquettish shyness over taking me. My eyes looking up into his gloriously seductive gaze, his face looks as if to say, all the better to eat you with my dear, a provocative and risqué promise to me, body and soul. His pearly white grin showing more of his straight sharp teeth than usual, my heart speeds its rhythm, thumping hard in my chest. Spinning in tight circles we make a circuit of the floor, the background swirls the only thing clear and constant in my vision was his fantastically angular face enveloped in secreted promise. As I step into him, keeping pace, not being shy of how our bodies are clashing and rubbing, one of his fantastic eyebrows slowly rose. The look on his face now completely Big Bad Wolf thrilled that Red Riding Hood snapped up his challenge. I tenaciously add flair as I keep step with him and boy did he step.
Our gazes locked, he spins me out to arm’s length, inertia and drama send my outer arm and leg flinging artfully as he retracts me like a yo-yo.
He pushes me around the floor his chin lowered a predatory look to his eye growing deeper, darker. He spins me twice under his arm and out and leaves me out there. I wrap my arms around myself and sway he adds a little light stepping pizazz. Suddenly he stops looking straight into my eyes. He hesitates one, two, three, beats then slowly stepping with a stalking intent towards me, I retreat, stifling a welling up giggle. I gather my skirt in my hands not entirely sure if it is just part of the act of the dance or if I truly was about to bolt. That look in his eyes tied my stomach in knots, I retreat two steps but his beautiful legs eat up the ground between us. His lovely long legs moving to a sensual rhythm he catches me around the waist, I freeze. He steps between my separated feet, pulling me tight to his chest. Our eyes, hips and arms locked. My insides nearly gelatin, the rhythm, the dance and his looks affecting me drastically, my breath coming out in short pants, desire kicking up to amazing levels. He pushes me around the dance floor our legs stepping in the syncopated pattern he draws us in. Spinning me under his arm holding my back to his front, I hear his faint growl in my ear, the hair on my neck stands on end as we again spin in tight circles around the floor, a high note on the accordion signals him to spin me out again. Retracting me, pulling me tight to his chest face inches from mine my heart roaring in my ears. We undulate together, hips colliding adding drama to the dance. My eyes lock onto his beautiful blue green depths and he sweeps me away, sparking my truly libidinous nature. Sensuality and passion overtaking me, I had never felt as free or as alluring as I used every ounce of my soul to keep up with him, dips, twirls and some of the sexiest looks I have ever seen.
As always the entire world fell away as we danced, nothing existed but he and I and the music, desire racing through my veins, ratcheting up every time our hips touched, I had only eyes for him. Our bodies match in a fantastic unison he anticipates my foot falls and I knowing when he is going to use me for a frisbee. This was the most intimate and carnal experience, fantastically delicious nearly out of body moment in my life. As the music spools up for its dramatic end, my cheeks are cramping from the smile. A laugh escapes me as we crescendo, nearly hitting an erotic plateau. A sudden sexy spin sets me out and retracts me, my back to his front. The last pose full of drama, his arms wrapped around me, holding my one my hand pulling my arm across my torso to my hip, as the last keening note peals across my ears; my arm tossed up and behind his neck, my palm caressing his cheek. My eyes closed, breath coming in heaves. I enjoyed his delicious rasping breath on my neck a step above a growl. I turn my face to him, our gazes lock; slowly our faces magnetically nudge closer, our lips all but touching in a kiss before the applause breaks into our private universe. Confusion floods my brain as he chuckles the cavalier returning to his face. He spins me out, and bows, I take his cue offering an awkward curtsy, laughing like mad.
He pulls me tight to him his hands delicious on my skin he pulls me to a dark corner and pressing my back to the wall he kisses me with a passion I had never felt, hot, searing like kissing the sun; he pushes for more my hands greedy grabbing him deliciously, one finding his rump, the other pulling his lightly sweaty hair. He leaned in closer, his hand ghosted my face, his finger ran along my cheek, his tongue playing merry hob in my mouth, his warm, fingertips lightly whisper along my throat, coaxing me, and honestly it didn't take much coaxing; I surrendered, returning the kiss, my breath now coming billowing pants, he frames my face with his hands. His jittering hands held a desperation that ratcheted up my own to a frenzy; the hip that had cocked toward mine pressed delightfully as it came to meet mine dominating, rocking lightly; a knee nudges slyly between mine making my skirt wrap tightly around my thighs. I bite his full bottom lip playfully, his hands glide down the sides of my neck tickling, he nips me back, my hands gathering his suit jacket tight in my fists; I slide my body along his, rising on my tip toes, flicking my tongue along the roof of his mouth; the clean sweetness of margarita and his flavour making such a heady delicious cocktail.
My hands loose themselves from his lapels, hunting for more of him; caressing along his jaw; his fingers finding their way beneath the edge of my blouse, flitting along my waistband; the small tickling caress sending shivers through my body; my hands pushing into his curls, they wrap around my fingers invitingly, I fist my hands pulling lightly; pressing into me, bending me slowly backward, his kiss deepens, air and breathing become elective, superfluous. He growls, his fingers now gripping, pulling, demanding; I am overcome, letting out a breathless whimper. He slows. He sighs, dropping his chin to his chest, emerging from the throughs of passion.
God do I want him… I want him so badly; I try to clamp my legs together until the wanting passes, but I find his knee there, keeping me from relieving pressure; in fact, he added to it. He grips both my wrists swinging them above my head; I am lost in feeling, watching his hands, those fingers, feeling his determination; I shiver as he chuckles, letting it rumble deep in his chest; the thrill of his gasping breath dancing across my face with the delicious sweet libidinous sigh making the loose hairs at my forehead dance; his scent exhilarating, and so intoxicating to me. I watch a surge of electric passion wash over his features like an ocean wave, intention evident in his every motion.
He slowly presses into me, holding me securely in place; he stood close, but not touching, simply dominating with his presence, using that delectable knee pressed between my own; he pressed it higher adding even more libidinous pressure to my need; my slim fit skirt worked like hobbles holding my thighs in place for his teasing; his posture holding me lightly suspended secured, but freely dangling in his grasp pressed against the wall for his rapacious perusal; he raised that knee higher, eliciting a shiver from me and a full smile from him, all locking us into place, using his muscled thigh pressed deep between mine coaxing, caressing, keeping me bent to his will. My breath escaped as a ragged sigh, my heart hammering in my chest feel my pulse surge," yeah, no kidding, I was a rabbit being toyed with; he dips his head, his lips and tongue dancing along my neck as my blood thrums along the column of my throat under his lips, my body reacts as I try to regain control, but I am simply left to move against him.
His voice quivered, his hands shook: I, myself was a leaf in a hurricane. His breath was shaky as he went on, caressing the place where neck meets shoulder. God it’s hard to admit this, but the feeling of him holding my wrists above my head with one hand, trailing the other lithe fingered, free hand flowing down the inside of my arm, tracing the edge of my blouse, dipping a single sticky finger in deeply caressing the edge of the lacy black longline bustier and the side of my breast. Lifting my chin with that same reverent fingertip, tilting my head back. Gently, pushing my hair from my forehead, tucking it behind my ear, letting his hand slowly softly caress down my neck. Finally, I look up into his wide exotic deep dark soul-searching eyes, he peers down into mine… into my soul, his holding a particularly delicious intensity that changed his from a tranquil, reflective, mirrored abyss to a raging blackhole pulling me in. As those fiery orbs, searing with the desire I am sure matched the one burning deep in mine. I barely stop myself from devouring him whole.
He leans in close letting his shaking, raspy breath tickles my face, caress my ear. He almost inaudibly whispers his wanting wish so close, so low; “Ah, dios mio is that answer still, Yes.” It may as well have been coming from my soul, speaking in that delicious rumble of rolling thunder voice adding to the evocative question.
“Si.” I feel him shiver as I become boneless in his hands, His long-lashed lids flutter closed as he finally leans into me, his hand softly finishing the descent to my hip. Then, only then does he softly brush my lips with is sweetly supple soft lips, I feel him sigh, warm against my lips. I kiss him slowly, intently, but playfully, it will be a dance, a dance of caress, a give and take, a feel and respond. I never would be the first to break that kiss. My hands strain against his hold, but he never lets loose. Not even when the passion notches up quickly in this kiss.
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@keeper0fthestars @pedeka @writernotwaiting @iamhisgloriouspurpose @freudensteins-monster
Last try at regaining my words.
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toku-explained · 3 years
Text
The Living Sword wielded by the Swordsman of Fire
Heroes Odyssey: Just covers Z's initial 3 forms aside from Original State, and Tiga's 3 forms.
The Absolute Conspiracy: Andro Melos and Ribut help turn the tide on the Zetton army, Taiga uses the opportunity to use Photon Earth against Zett, and the assembled Ultras successfully destroy the Zetton Army, Zett escaping. After the Tri-Squad and Galaxy Rescue Force members talk, Andro Melos mentioning that Andro Ares is now a member of the Andro Defense Force to Taiga. Taro calls them back to the Land of Light. At home Taiga greets his grandparents, and Zoffy and Andro Melos greet eachother after a long time. Ribut explains everything they know about what Tartarus has done so far, Titas decides to go back to U40 and check on Joneus, and Fuma decides to head to O-50 for training. At the Training Centre, Taro's pupil Mebius has now joined his mentor as an instructor, and is in the middle to training with Z, who still aims to be Zero's pupil, when Taiga arrives and calls him, hoping to train with Mebius after a long time apart. Mebius reflects both on the fact that both him and Zero are part of mentorship chains involving pupils training their mentors and sons, and that he and Zero, once the newest Ultras, are now training the next generation. At U40 Joneus asks Titas to join him in battle, on O-50, Grigio is there for the first time when she meets Fuma, who is embarrassed meeting her, as she recruits him to help in the battle.
Saber: So Touma can still get into Northern Base, and apparently the rest have all abandoned it for Southern Base. Yuri was in fact once a Swordsman, and merges himself with Saikou to prevent its misuse, which makes it less likely that Kurayami is also sentient. Of the Swordsmen now with Southern Base, Rintaro was arguably the most reasonable, but while he believes Touma was honest about what Kamijo told him, he can't believe it's true, that and Touma's refusal to cut down a Megiddo leave him convinced for the moment that Touma is becoming an enemy. For now Daishinji and Ogami might be the most reasonable, but they have no reason suspect Reika lied, and Touma's actions are as incomprehensible to them as Fukamiya and Kamijo's were. This method of saving the people turned into Megiddo is going to have some serious risks. Saikou allows Touma to wield him now. And hilarious, turns out Yuri was capable of separating the whole time. Looks like Reika might have convinced Rintaro now.
Kiramager: Big first moment, Yodon has other forms he inhabits besides Yodonna, we have Shadon, now, and there should be at least one more it look like. Time to kill Kiramagers. Mabusheena has her coming of age now. Shadon easily lures everyone out, but Tametomo's skills allow him to use Kiramai Buster to blind him momentarily. Tametomo is the one to realise the plan, but by that point half the team is gone and Juru is stuck fighting Jouki and the Jamenju. While I saw Tametomo's feint coming, I was wrong about the method. And Shadon is done, the mask on Yodon shattered and everything. Yodon probably has one other form besides Yodonna, I reckon that one might be a more lasting threat.
Dogengers: Ohgaman faces Yabai Kamen, who fails to take Tanaka hostage before Ohgaman pushes away, and brings out the Medical Education Book to initiate a finisher, using his syringe gun. Yabai Kamen taps into his new power to transform into his Service Zangyo state (essentially referring to Unpaid Overtime), and uses Only My Railgun against Ohgaman's cannon, after the resulting explosion Tanaka sees all the heroes vanished, as Yabai Kamen celebrates he is greeted by his fellows in AHK, I-Doll, a new character, secretary Maid Shitsuji, Nectaris, Shaberryman, Company Mascot Uzagi and consultant Shuraomaru. Nectaris was originally the villain for Chikyuu Senchi Zelos, whose activities stopped in 2019, while Shuraomaru has been active for over a decade and is an ambassador for Kokura Castle, and is associated with a group called Chikuzen Shinobi Hakkenshu, he appears to be on his second costume variant, although officially this one might be a separate character. Note I-Doll's reaction to seeing Tanaka. After AHK leave it turns out Ohgaman is alive, he acknowledges Tanaka as Fukuoka's last hero, saying that if he used his full power against the powered up villains Fukuoka would be destroyed, so he needs to discover the source of their new power instead, he quickly makes arrangements with Ohga Pharmacy to place Tanaka and hands him an item resembling the one on his own collar. We get the OP for the first time, which features out first looks at Yamashiro Gas Co. Sales Department Hero Division's vehicle, Yarashicar, and Yabai Kamen's vehicle, Kuruma to Koi wa Kyu ni Tomarenai. The song is by Toki wo Ikuru, a group which Yuki's actress, Momosaki Mayu bongs to. At the AHK company offices the villains celebrate their domination of Fukuoka, while Maid Shitsuji tends to Yabai Kamen's injuries. Gulf, Gallia and the Arakuremono rampage on the streets, Tanaka is at the home supplied by Ohga Pharmacy, unable to bring himself to act, remembering his childhood playing with Yuki, where his hero doll would save Yuki's girl doll from Yuki's Kaijin doll, and how when they said goodbye for the last time, he wasn't able to ask her to wait for him. He remembers he was meant to meet with Yuki, but she isn't there when he gets there. After bumping into first the Arakuremono gang, and then Gallia, he finds himself being hassled by all of the wolves, the Device Ohgaman gave him, on his collar, is activated, transforming him into a figure resembling Ohgaman, with the blue elements in green and symbols representing the Medical Education Book. Thinking he's Ohgaman the Arakuremono run, but Gulf is happy to beat on him, throwing him at where the Arakuremono are now. To help them against Ohgaman they call upon their new anikii, KitaQman!
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lonelypond · 4 years
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Soldier Game: Operation LA Smile, Ch. 2
NicoMaki, Love Live, 1.7K, 2/?
Summary: Maki flees the scene, Eli meets Nozomi, Umi amuses herself, Hanayo makes an appearance, and Nico decides on a distraction.
Chapter Two: Party Planning
Maki, not yet awake enough to open her eyes, pushed into something warm, firm, feeling herself relax, and then the images started playing behind her eyes, Yazawa so close, hands everywhere, asking, then taking over, then...Maki froze. If she opened her eyes now, what kind of look would be on Nico’s face. Best just to pretend to be asleep.
Pretend or not, the next time Maki was aware of anything, she felt colder. A quick sneak peek. No Nico. Wrapping the towel around her, Maki sprinted for the door, almost tripping over the weight she now had to shove aside. The hall, which way to the Soldier Game temporary office? To the left, Maki turned, and there was Umi, smirking, calmly waiting to see what Maki would do next.
Maki pulled the towel completely closed around her, hurrying past this obstacle. “I just need my go bag.”
“Rough workout?” Umi’s teasing voice always grated, “Need a shower?”
“Bite me.”
“Is there a line?”
Maki whirled, snarling, “I am so breaking you next time we spar.”
Umi shrugged, “That will never happen.”
“Oh it will. You can bet on it.”
“But I won’t.”
Maki didn’t have the mental energy for Umi in taunting mode. Most of her attention was listening for Nico’s voice so she could sprint away before Nico stepped into the hall.
“See you at dinner. Bring a friend.” Umi smiled.
“I’ll be in my hotel. Alone.” That was the rest of her evening. Every scented candle in Tokyo lit, lights low, music calming, soaking off this surprise encounter, forgetting what Nico smelled like when sweat and sex steamed off of her, long, lush, black hair slick, Maki’s legs were starting to wobble and if she didn’t get away soon...not thinking about that, Maki straightened herself up...ha! Inner Maki snorted, good luck with that...and rushed toward more clothes than this barely clinging bikini bottom.
 ###
Ayase Eli was sharp, trim, on task and on time. Her suit was pressed, her hair in a high ponytail, her agenda to the point after a series of revisions. She didn’t need directions to the office assigned for her official meeting with Tojo-san. Eli was here to be the public face of Soldier Game, bringing together her friends to use their celebrity cachet to boost Japanese tourism, which had taken a huge hit due to the coronavirus pandemic and panic. Even with the advances in treatment and prophylactic treatments, with no vaccine, air traffic to Asia from the United States and Europe had suffered huge declines. And then there was the more important Soldier Game mission, ensure delivery to an underground biohacker network of biological data camouflaged by the designers of Feather Smile. The mission would start with a two week quarantine and reconnaissance in the hills of Malibu while their Hollywood contact Kousaka Honoka finalized photoshoot and filming details.
This was the office. Eli knocked politely and heard a trilled, breathy “Come in.” She opened the door and behind the desk, leaning forward, elbows on the desk, chin cupped in her hands, green eyes confident and friendly was a tall buxom woman in a floral dress and dark blazer combo.
“Tojo-san? I’m Ayase Eli.”
“Call me Nozomi.” There was a giggle, “I recognize you from the snaps in your file.”
“Of course.” Eli bowed her head.
“Please take a seat, Ayase-san. Umi has been sharing details of your procedures and requirements so some of the groundwork has been done.”
Eli nodded, “Before we get into that, may I ask who you work for?”
Nozomi chuckled, “You can certainly ask, although I can’t share all the details with you. It’s a governmental subdivision focused on international relations.”
“And you requested Soldier Game because…”
Nozomi leaned back, eyes narrowing, voice crisper, “I intend to take advantage of the male tendency to dismiss attractive women as anything but prey. My contact needs this information and my usual couriers would be at risk. We need a diversion.” A pause and a bright smile, “How’re your tan lines?”
“Huh?” Eli saw why Umi had noted that conversations with Tojo-san could quickly become unpredictable.
“FeatherSmile has decided on a beach and boxing theme.”
“And FeatherSmile is involved because…?” Eli hadn’t really paid that much attention to the dossier on the designers.
“They have the skills and technology I need for this mission. Surely you’re not planning to underestimate them, Ayase-san?” Nozomi arched an eyebrow to judgy.
Eli blushed slightly, “No, this is just very high profile. I’m wary of the risk to our covers. I want to be certain everyone involved is a professional.”
Nozomi stared at Eli for an uncomfortable length of time and then giggled, “Just smile and look pretty and make sure nobody shoots the talent. We’ll take care of the rest.”
###
Kotori was humming as she worked on a dress. Nico shut the door to their atelier and threw herself on the divan.
“I think we should design and cut the whole collection during the two week quarantine.” Nico announced.
Kotori took her foot off the foot control pedal of her sewing machine and spun her stool around.
“It gives us more time to prep the fabric and make some contingency plans.” Nico seemed fascinated by the floor, her voice disinterested.
“Did something happen?” This Nico mood was rare and difficult to read so Kotori was very very curious.
“Things always happen, but Nico has it under control.” Nico waved her hands before flipping on her back, staring at the ceiling, “But a behind the scenes video would be a big FeatherSmile boost, especially with eye candy like that around.”
“Eye candy?” Kotori raised an eyebrow, “That sounds a bit…” Kotori paused, “predatory for you, Nico. Are we over the sexual harassment policy now? No more lectures?”
“Hey if,” Nico squeaked, winced and tried again. “Hey, if they want to wander around saying, “woo hoo, look at me, I am surface-of-the-sun hot”, Nico is going to take them at their consenting adult status.”
“Who is them, Nico?” Kotori asked quietly as she went back to the dress. Nico had to be edged into truths, not stared into them.
Silence, the chug of Kotori’s needle for minutes, then Nico threw herself back upright and pulled out her phone. “We have the bon voyage party tonight, yes?”
“Yes.”
“Want to sign some bras?” Nico smirked.
Now Kotori was insatiably curious. “We haven’t had an event like that…” since the launch of their underwear lines last Christmas ago. Which had nearly been a riot. A very profitable, very pretty riot that had Kotori spending the night partying with several fans in the FeatherSmile reserved suite. Nico had been chatting up investors at the bar. And their Spring Line had been fully funded, sight unseen. And was now sold out.
“Might as well give Tokyo something to remember.” Nico raised her phone, adjusted her hair, flashed her lady killer glitter smile, and hit one touch record, then raising her hand in The Gesture™ “Nico Nico Ni! How are all Nico’s pretty ladies? If you’re not busy tonight and your C19-Pass is clear, FeatherSmile is throwing a “See You At The Beach” Party tonight at the Andaz Tokyo Rooftop Bar, with some fab celebrity guests!!! Catch us if you can, before we head for LA and design our latest beach and activewear collection. And we’ll be doing bra signings, so wear your FeatherSmile originals and get a Nico selfie and signature. Nico wants to see ALL her fans.” Even for Nico, the wink was outrageous. So she tossed the phone on the table with a low mutter Kotori barely caught. “And now Nico will be too busy for whatever Nishikino wants to do next.”
Ah. Nishikino. Nishikino Maki. The glaring redhead. Kotori wasn’t surprised, well, a little by the speed. But it seemed this was going to be a mission on hyperfuel.
###
Working from her porch, Hanayo had her laptop out, smiling as she paused to watch the alpacas and llamas wandering her ranch. They’d been sheared recently so many looked bare, but now Hanayo would have a usable amount of textiles for the FeatherSmile team as Ms. Tojo requested. So exciting to be involved with celebrities, Hanayo thought as she liked Sonoda Umi’s latest TWIG video, a warm up routine. And a photoshoot, with all of Soldier Game posing, beachwear Ms. Tojo had said, and….Hanayo reached for her hand fan and held her iced tea to her forehead. It did get a little hot out here. Hanayo had been following FeatherSmile since their debut so it was amazing to have the opportunity to actually get to meet Nico and Kotori. Hanayo’s eyes gleamed behind her glasses. She wasn’t going to think about the part of this that scared her, maybe finally getting on the radar of the pharmacops, instead she was going to stay focused on the excitement.
###
“They’re throwing a party?!?!?!?!” Maki was in the repurposed office that Umi had taken over for Soldier Game, going through their medical equipment stash. Tojo’s US contact would have most of what else they needed but Maki refused to travel without personally assembling her own kit.
“Yazawa wants a big bang.” Eli turned away from her screen.
Maki frowned, reading the FeatherSmile TWIG announcement on her phone, “Sign your bras?!?”
Eli shrugged, “It’s a thing they do. Their underwear line was an extremely romantic Christmas gift last year.”
“And comfy.” Umi didn’t pause in her kata.
Maki nearly dropped the surgical instruments she was holding, “You’re wearing some?”
“No, but I do own a few pieces. They are both frilly and practical.”
“And romantic?” Eli looked up from her paperwork with a teasing wink.
“That was not a consideration. I found the lace trim color contrast aesthetically pleasing and the support appropriate for everyday activities.” Umi finished her form and bowed. “If you do not wish to attend this evening’s festivities, Maki, I’m sure a tantrum would be an effective addition to the publicity brew.
Eli returned her attention to her paperwork, “And very in character.”
“I thought we were leaving tomorrow?” Maki ignored her colleagues’ suggestion.
“Flight got pushed back a day. Tojo’s having some red tape problems. I am assisting her.” Eli started entering numbers into her desktop, “And some of our more sensitive equipment will go through the diplomatic pipeline, which is a huge plus.”
Maki went back to sorting medicinal necessities, occasionally muttering sentences ending with, “bra.”
A/N: The world needs more fun stuff so I decided to post this and just kick off the next chapter with a huge party. Also, Happy Birthday, Nozomi!
Take care, especially if you're out there doing the good work of protesting police brutality against Black lives.
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sohmariku · 5 years
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RIKU’S RANDOM LIFE: BACK FROM JAPAN & SOUTH-KOREA
I safely made my way back home yesterday. Compared to last year, this year’s flight was as enjoyable as it can be, but yeah... not being ill does most certainly make a flight a 100 times better. Strangely, this probably was the first time in my life I was actually happy to go home. Not that I didn’t like my time in Japan, it’s just... when I left I was already emotionally overloaded and not having sufficient time to myself for three weeks didn’t make things any better. Thus, I’m glad to be home and have some time to myself. And it might also be related to the fact that most places I wanted to go were left in a state of devastation by Tyfoon no.19, so... I kind of ran out of things to do.
So now it’s time to look at the damage that’s been done (to my wallet). Spreading everything I bought out on my floor I can tell I once again bought too many things. Some things were rather expensive, other things were surprisingly cheap...
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NENDOROID HAUL
When I left for Japan, I was planning to buy two new Nendoroids to add to my collection, Sengo Muramasa and Ishikirimaru. Which I did in Akihabara. Then, as it happened, Hachisuka was released right as I came to Japan. Though I didn’t buy him instantly, I returned to the shops the next week to get him after all. Then, I also ran into Kasen Kanesada. He was relatively cheap and... I guess I felt my Sayo just needed a friend. At the same time I also found the petit version of Hachisaka for a couple hundred yen. Had to get him too! While shopping in Nakano I ran into a very cheap Taikogane. He appeared to be in perfect shape, so I had to get him. Before I left for Japan I had noticed one of my Kashu Nendo’s faces had lost an earring and by chance I ran into a separately sold face. Also bought a random (funny) face. And in Machida I bought the random patient body.
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MANGA HAUL
I didn’t buy that many manga in the end. First of all I caught up with Rengoku ni Warau, because I like the series and would like to have it complete. Then, at some point I was in a funny mood and decided I needed Dororo. Somehow managed to find all volumes in the Book-Off. Also found the Touken Ranbu the Movie novel right there at a ridiculously low price, so just took it. Kuroshitsuji vol.28 was a surprise purchase, because according to my Manga Inventory List I already owned the volume. Except, it was released in 2019 and last time I came to Japan was 2018. Just checked our Manga library and discovered what went wrong. I seem to have mistaken vol.18 for vol.28... That’s what you get when they count in these ridiculous ways...XVIII or XXVIII... I also seem to have vol.18 double, that’s probably why I didn’t notice before.
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TOUMYU/SUTE HAUL
The Mihotose 2019 and MusuHaji blu-rays had been on the to-purchase list from the very start, but due to other expenses it wasn’t until the very last day. I only did purchase MusuHaji in the end, because I had to withdraw money from the ATM and didn’t want to withdraw only 2000 yen. (The amount I actually needed) It wouldn’t make sense considering the fees I’d be paying. So, I withdrew 9000 yen and purchased MusuHaji. (Instead of ordering it online later...) Surprise purchases were the Be in Sight and Kodou singles. I wasn’t planning on getting them, but they were cheap. Same for the bromide, postcards and can badge.  The Mihotose novel was something I only decided to purchase quite late, because well, I’ll be back to subtitling Mihotose, might as well get the official script this time.  The pen light eventually became a necessary purchase, because I had forgotten to bring my pen lights to the show and... I needed a pen light. Plus, it has new colors, so... I kind of needed it either way. Thought it’s not pictured, I also got one of the Kisho Hongi scarves. (Tonbokiri colors)
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BLU-RAY/DVD HAUL
None of this was really planned, but since it was super cheap I couldn’t resist bringing it. I’m mostly happy to find the Bakumatsu Rock blu-ray at such a low price (2800 yen). Since I saw the show in the theater I’ve been dying to see it again, but I didn’t really have spare money to buy it at full price. What mostly surprises me about the other discs though, they’ve never been opened and I managed to buy them at those bargain prices! It’s a mystery...
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KOREA HAUL
This is my (Daiso) Korea haul. While in Korea I somehow haven’t had any real opportunity to go shopping. Or maybe I just didn’t feel like it. So, the one time I had some minutes to spare I hopped into the Daiso and tried to find something to bring home.Of course, I ended up with socks... the one thing I absolutely don’t need, but... they are so cute!!  And of course I had to end up with cat toys! I don’t even have a cat yet, but I do have a load of cat toys, so why not add to that? xD (I’ll be getting a cat very soon though!) The only things that didn’t come from Daiso are the chocolate-filled marshmallows, got those at a convenience store.
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FIGURES
For two years I’ve owned Yasusada, for two years I’ve been looking for Kashu. I found them as a set in Nakano. I bought them as a set in Nakano. Now I still have a lonely Yasusada. Guess the search continues... Or I need to find a new home for my spare Yasusada. ^^;;
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More little cuties I simply couldn’t leave behind. Luffy was just a figure I got by chance. I don’t follow the series really, but I tried the gacha anyway. The little figure was one of two A-prizes. They also had B and C prizes. I had lots of luck that day.
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GACHA GACHA
Lots of little things I got from the gacha machines. I just can’t resist these! The little fan came in the treasure chest. I adore the little gacha machines. (Didn’t add stickers to the blue one yet) And I’m just overall happy with the results...
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DAISO JAPAN HAUL
Can’t skip Daiso in Japan. Once again, I got myself more socks. Four pairs in total, two pair not pictured because I wore those and they are in the laundry. Got some craft goods that might come in handy. Some skin peel and the candy my mom came to like while she was in Japan (as a present for her). 
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FOOD HAUL
As always, I end up with some random food. The Touken Ranbu Manju were a gift from a friend. The white envelope thing is a tea given to us by random elementary students from Shizuoka. The purple bag contains apple-pie flavored kitkats. I got my favorite potato&bacon cup-a-soup. Some dark chocolate snickers. Obviously I couldn’t forget about some Black Thunder bars either... anyway, just lots of random food.
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RANDOM
A tea cup from Odawara castle, little squirrel/cockatiel magnet from Machida squirrel garden. A random Seigaku tennis ball. One Piece magnet. Neko magnet (from daiso). Other Touken goods. Some mask (also from One Piece) I still need to assemble and won by beating the Usopp game in One Piece Tower. A little konnosuke figure to decorate my earphones... and some yellow washi tape I got for free when shopping at Lashinban for some reason. The Saiyuki bromides were gifts given to me.
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POKEMON
Last but not least, we increased our clear pokeball collection. Last year we got the squirtle, this year we expanded with Lycanroc and Alolan Raichuu. It’s all random what you get. I had hoped to get others, but these aren’t bad either. ^^
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And that’s the full haul. It’s really quite a lot, but I don’t regret any purchase. ^o^
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sidjheyrsls · 4 years
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‘Twas the first time that I celebrated New Year away from the family. This year, it was just Raf and I. I was actually the one who opted out to celebrate it in Bulacan due to a fight within the family. I lost the interest and seeing that I already have a place of my own, I decided to just rush back to Manila away from the family drama. Rafael (bless his heart) did not want to leave me alone even though I insisted that I am a big girl and it was just fine to have the NYE alone to myself (I was actually planning a night of gaming). He joined me on my travel back to the city and was adamant that he’ll stay with me for the celebration. He kept mentioning that he did not want me to be alone for that night.
We then decided to just assemble a simple dinner for the both of us. Since we were both too lazy to cook anything, we just had food delivered and bought a couple of ice creams. For the first time, I didn’t feel pressured in dressing up for the salubong and I can simply wear my jammies with no artes at all. I think this is the only time that I actually appreciated the beginning of a new year. 
We were both debating on whether going to Araneta to watch the fireworks as our balcony’s view is hindered by houses and other building in the area. Then I remembered that our building actually has a rooftop and seeing that we might be the only people left on our apartment building, I tasked Rafael to go to our landlady and check if she would allow us to watch the fireworks from the rooftop once 12 midnight strikes.
Luckily, we were allowed to go and the landlady actually stated that it was not locked and we can go there anytime we want.
We went upstairs at 11:30 just to do a few test shots with my camera and saw that there were another group of tenants there. Once the clocked stroked twelve, we can barely contain our excitement and we didn’t really know which way to look as the fireworks are all around us. It was spectacular! We stayed for a good 15 minutes and yet, the fireworks displays are still relentless for a couple of locations I think. We thought that it was a good idea to actually go back to our unit since the smoke from the Sinturon ni Judas that our neighboring houses decided to fire up right in front of our building started to rise up to our location.
I actually mentioned that if, for some sort of reason, we will celebrate our New Year in our building again, we should host a mini-party in our rooftop for some booze and chips with some of our neighbors who decided to stay over as well.
Overall, it was a refreshing experience not to be pushed into dressing up and being in heels for the New Year. I didn’t have to put up appearances and can just go out comfortably. I definitely prefer it to the one that I had in Bulacan for the previous years.
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serenzippity · 5 years
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Cold War
Words: 4,050 Member/Pairing: Monsta X, Jooheon/OC Genre: Alternative Universe, inspired by “All In” Warning(s): Violence, implied smut, language.
Book One - Chapter One
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It was easy to act as if the world ended and we were living in a post-apocalyptic society. Acting like there was no other way of life before this, nor that there were societies beyond our borders that had it better than we did. We went through our grey and dull lives like robots who didn’t know better. Programmed into our existence we adhered to everything the Jeong regime told us.
Go to primary school until 18. Test your skills when you graduate. Train until 25. Work when you graduate. Marry at 27. Have a child by 30. Live the rest of your life for the Military Republic of Korea. 
Everything was correlated and quantified into a strict pattern where deviation was rare. 
The MRK arose from the ashes of what was formerly known as North and South Korea. The Great War of 1952 decimated the Earth with nuclear warfare and mass loss of life. Bombs, guns, and machines roved over the innocents and the guilty, leaving nothing except destruction and blood in its wake. When the dust settled and the ashes were blown away the people gathered to assemble the ruins. From the black arose six powers that would shape the world in their image. 
Isolation would overtake the powers, each choosing to remain within their own territory rather than risk venturing into the nuclear badlands. Large masses of land where radiation and nuclear winter destroyed all signs of life rested between the borders of each power. There was no sharing of knowledge, culture, or life. Each one was left to their own devices, rarely having any inkling about the ongoings of other powers. 
The MRK spanned from the tip of the Korean Peninsula all the way up into what used to be the northeast border of China and into what was known as Mongolia. With Seoul destroyed in the bombs, the Jeong regime moved the capital to what was formerly known as Shenyang, one of the only Chinese cities that was untouched by nuclear warfare. The lands were vast, but the badlands in between the MRK and the neighboring powers were bigger. Hundreds of thousands of miles spanned the distance between the end of the MRK and the beginning of the closest power, effectively trapping us within the regime. 
Our history books were filled to the brim with the greatness of the Jeong’s and their perseverance over outside forces that wanted to destroy our way of life. They were the heroes of the MRK and everyone had to go each day thanking them for our liberation. 
Liberation was a loose term. 
Poverty was rampant and the gaps between the upper and lower echelons of citizens were monumental. The rich were disgustingly rich, and the poor were disgustingly poor. The middle tier of people, arguably the smallest tier, just tried to get through the day. There was virtually no crime but this was due to the stringent grip that the MRK had on its people. Governors in cities were Generals, commanding small armies to keep their citizens in line. Public executions, searches and seizures, as well as strict adherence to the Jeong Ordinances, kept people in a constant state of fear and silence.
No one dared to speak a word. No one dared to raise a hand. No one dared to do anything.
-x-
July 15th, 2018
The dinner rush died down and I was finally able to sit down for a minute. The clanking of forks on cracked plates were the only sounds in the dark restaurant. The smell of the bland and rationed food wafted through the air, and I felt my own stomach lurch to remind me that I had yet to eat. 
Tapping my watch I checked to see how many weekly rations I had left. A large, red 18 blinked back at me and after a quick mental calculation, I figured that one meal wouldn’t hurt in the long run. Moving over to the register I scanned my watch and picked out a simple meal of rice and boiled meat. Nothing too fancy so as to save my accumulated rations. 
The bland meal popped out of the metal vendor built into the black wall behind the bar. Surrounded by bottles of non-alcoholic drinks the ‘chef’ handed me the food and I walked over to an empty table to eat for the first time in almost 24 hours. Such was life. Wake up, head to the restaurant, work for hours, go home, sleep. There was no time for anything else, and I found a sense of peace in the monotony.
Running a hand through my dark hair I continued to eat the insipid food, taking in the customers scattered throughout the establishment. Every single inhabitant was a student. The medical ones were distinguished by their black and white striped robes. Political students had red buttons on their white shirts. Military students wore green berets and carried weapons, while agriculture students were covered in dirt. Other professions were scattered around, but the four major types of trainees were the most distinct. 
The clinking of the bell over the door drew my attention, and I got tense when a brown haired boy entered. He was dressed in head to toe black and had a green beret on his head, indicating his military training. He paid no attention to anyone in the room, honing in on the three other military students in the corner table and joining them. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the other waitress make her way over to them. Taking his order with a smile and scanning his watch, she headed back to the register at the bar. The smile on her face had me gripping my bowl tightly, anger beginning to bubble under my skin. 
Forgoing the final few bites of my meal, I rushed back behind the bar and put the dish away into the sanitizer. The distinct ping of the meal coming out of the vendor sounded and I watched as the other waitress placed the dish on a small tray. 
“Mina,” I said, commanding her attention. “Take the dishes back to the sorter. I’ll take care of the rest of the tables.”
“I only have two more tables, I can handle-,” but I cut off her small protest quickly, not in the mood to deal with her whining. 
“Take the dishes back to the sorter,” I growled, lifting the tray out of her arms and walking towards the military student’s table. Locking eyes with the brown-haired boy, I placed the bowl down with a dark glare in his direction. He met my gaze evenly, not phased by my apparent aggressiveness. Giving him one final glance, I left the table to their devices.
The rest of the night went by without a hitch, but the boy stayed at the table even when his friends had long since left. He lurked in the corner, not ordering any food but not causing enough of a problem to warrant being kicked out. Mina would occasionally pass by his table, offering water or a snack with a shy smile. No matter how many time I tried to keep her busy and away she always seemed to find herself back at his table. 
By the time 8 PM rolled around the sky was dark and soldiers began to patrol the streets. “Go home before it gets too late,” I told Mina plainly. Her incessant protests were cut off by my raised hand, forcefully silencing her. With an eye roll and huff, Mina hung up her apron behind the bar and headed off. She stared at the boy in the corner until she was out the door, his eyes following her every move. 
I followed behind her, locking the door and pulling the shutters down on the small windows leading out to the street. Cutting off the restaurant from the world and any prying eyes, I turned to the boy in the corner with a scowl. Crossing my arms across my chest, I looked him up and down with distaste. He only smirked back at me, and I rolled my eyes at his cheeky personality. 
“What do you want Jooheon?” I was tired and ready to go to bed and dealing with him was the last thing I wanted to do. 
“You don’t seem happy to see me,” he pouted, unable to hide the chuckle that bubbled up in his chest. I scoffed at him and returned to the bar, beginning my closing duties. Pointedly ignoring him, I worked even through his groan of annoyance and shuffling to sit at the bar. I could go on ignoring him for as long as I wanted. He needed me, I didn’t need him. 
He sat at the bar, following my every movement. He laid his head in his hands and tapped the counter in an irritating one, two, three pattern. Once, twice, a third time. Soon the tapping grew louder and louder, showing he was purposely going out of his way to irritate the shit out of me. 
One, two, three.
One, two, three. 
One, two, three.
Gripping the rag in my hand harder, I snapped it on the wooden bar-top in frustration. “What do you want?” I all but yelled at him, annoyed by his frustrating presence. He smiled brightly at me, showing off a row of white teeth and dimples.
“I need supplies, nine ants specifically. Three boxes.” He gave me a beaming smile, and I just stared at him with dark eyes. I didn’t say anything in return, instead, I nodded and walked towards the storage room. The cold closet was filled to the brim with government-issued supplies. However, it held a buried secret that was older than I was. 
Shifting a shelf full of rice I pulled a latch and opened a hidden doorway in the wall. It swung open with a screech, revealing a metal staircase that depended into a black abyss. Making my way down the familiar steps, I switched on a light and illuminated the sterile metal room. The high walls were lined with boxes, each containing something illegal that would demand my instant death warrant.
Shelves containing medical supplies filled one wall while another was stocked with things like rope, cement, and even building supplies. The largest wall was full of weapons ranging from handguns to rifles. Bullets, replacement clips and magazines, and even kevlar took up every inch of the shelves. No space was unfilled from floor to ceiling. The furthest wall held military food boxes, illegal alcohol, and a large metal door that lead to a tunnel. It wound under the city and into the woods on the outskirts. The miles of tunnel was where I got my stocks from my supplier, meeting in the dead of night with the shadowy figure and their henchmen carrying heavy boxes for me to sell. 
My clientele varied. I had doctors come to me when the government refused to give them the necessary supplies to do their work. I had men and women who were desperate for some kind of release come to buy alcohol that would make them forget the sorrows of the world. I had clients that were loyal, but the process of becoming one was difficult. 
Jooheon was a regular client, and he was by far the one who paid the best. He’d buy supplies at least once a week, ranging from rice rations to large AKs. He was the one who bought most of my weapons arsenal, and despite our professional relationship I couldn’t help but dislike the kid. I didn’t ask questions, nor did I want to know about his so-called ‘X-Clan,’ but our dichotomy was slowly shifting as his eyes wandered. He was a long-term issue, but the money was too good for the time being. 
‘Ants’ was the code name for bullets. ‘Nine’ was the size of the caliber. He and I had a code and we used it on a regular basis. Grabbing three boxes, I left the hidden room with a click of the false wall and made my way back to the bar. He was in the same position with a bored look on his face. Slamming the three boxes down aggressively, I glowered at him and held my hand out for the money he owed. 
“Thank you,” he said dropping a wad of paper into my hand. I counted the notes with a steady hand, and when I got the sufficient amount plus a little extra I quickly shoved them in the register. He paid me too well, and that fact only made him much more irritating. He inspected the boxes and silently rose from his seat with a small nod in my direction. 
Making his way to the door, I spoke up before he could exit. “Stay away from Mina,” I growled before he could leave, his hand hovering over the lock. “I don’t want my sister associating with trouble like you.” 
He gripped the lock and slowly turned it, the click breaking through our tense silence. “My weapons dealer calling me trouble? Interesting.” Jooheon gave me a short look and nodded before pushing out the door and into the black night. He left quickly, shutting the door behind him and leaving me alone in the empty restaurant. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding in and continued to lock up, pushing the ritual deal into the back of my mind.  
-x-
July 17th, 2018
He was back two days later, and much to my chagrin he broke one of my cardinal rules. 
Coming at his usual time near the end of the dinner rush Jooheon occupied a table in the corner. Soon everyone in the restaurant cleared out except for him, a young boy who was previously sitting with a group of Political students, and myself. After sending Mina home, her flirty smile in Jooheon’s direction not going unnoticed, I began my closing chores. I was expecting the random student to leave, but when he joined Jooheon at the bar with a sheepish smile I felt objection soar through my veins.  
“I told you no friends.” I hissed at Jooheon with venom, narrowing my eyes to glare at him in a way that had the young stranger reeling back with a mix of shock and fear. “You know my rules, and you just broke the first one.” I was pissed, my hands itching for the dagger hidden in my sleeve. 
Raising a hand in an attempt to placate me, Jooheon gave me a wary look before speaking. If looks could kill he’d be dead. “This is Changkyun,” he said gesturing to the younger boy. “I have to be on base at midnight and we need supplies. He’s going to transport them.”
“Is he a member of your little club?” Changkyun looked between Jooheon and me with weary eyes. I was outraged at Jooheon, but my anger melted a fraction when I looked at Changkyun’s innocent looking face. He reminded me of a puppy that was stuck between two warring pit-bulls. I didn’t let his look fool me and I still remained wary of him, but my hand unclenched and I sighed with exhaustion. I had a long day and even longer night ahead of me and I wasn’t in the mood to argue with Jooheon and his stupidity. “Look I don’t care,” I said waving a hand as if dismissing the subject. “Don’t bring him back, and I’ll forgive it this once.”
“You’re the best,” Jooheon smiled at me, dimples on full display and I made a mental note that if he pissed me off for real next time, I’d send a knife through each of the indents. Clapping Changkyun on the back, Jooheon shifted in the barstool like a child. “We have a list,” he said pulling a slip of paper out of his military-issued jacket. Sliding it across the wood I took it delicately as if it was poisoned. It was a simple list, containing only a few items that Jooheon rarely ever bought: Rope, bandages, bullets, and kevlar vests.
“The vests are going to pricey. How many do you need?” I asked, tearing up the lists into tiny pieces and shoving them in the waste bin. 
“I can pay,” Jooheon said nonchalantly. Changkyun still looked uncomfortable but he said nothing. “And ideally we need seven, but I’ll take as many as I can get.”
I nodded and like usual didn’t ask any questions. Hurrying back to the hidden storage room I gathered all the materials on his list in record time, shoving them into a dark duffel bag that was lying in a crate. Double checking the contents, I came back up to the bar and tossed the bag to Changkyun who caught it with surprising dexterity. “I only have five vests right now, but I’m meeting with my supplier tonight. The shipment should come in next week. Come back and see me then.” 
“Deal,” Jooheon nodded, counting out a large stack of notes before passing them to me. I shoved them in the register without counting, and before I could even look up Changkyun and Jooheon were hurrying out the doors. The night welcomed them and they once again left me alone in welcomed emptiness. I looked at my watch for the time, noting how I had an hour or so to kill before I had to head out through the tunnel. Taking it off, I placed the watch on the bar so my tracker wouldn’t show my location when I went to meet them. I rested my head in my hand and took a small cat nap before I’d begin my nightly duties. 
The exchange went off without a hitch as usual. I met my supplier in the dark forest, well beyond any patrols or prying eyes. Their henchmen walked in and out of the tunnel, placing boxes in the middle of my supply room to be sorted later. Finally, I handed off their portion of the profits, gave them a listed order, and went my own way. The whole thing was simple, but it consumed my night and I was mentally exhausted by the time I was able to trudge home. 
The walk between the restaurant and our house was short but with my weary bones it felt like it took hours just to get to my worn front door. Unlocking the thin wood and stepping into the hallway I was immediately covered by darkness. Taking my shoes off, I tried to tiptoe to my room over the creaky wood floors. The house was small but cozy, our extra income allowing Mina and I to afford small luxuries like plush beds and a fully stocked kitchen. It wasn’t much, but I was content with our life. 
I slunk into my bedroom and turned on the light, trying my hardest not to wake Mina in the adjacent room. The small room was furnished with a bed, desk, and wardrobe. It had no decorations nor any personal items, but it on nights like these it felt like a room in an opulent mansion. My bed was calling to me, begging me to sink down into it with a content sigh. I was sorely tempted to, but a thud from the other room caught my attention. 
The tell-tale sliding of the old windows of the house screeched through the thin walls, and I could distinctly hear a grunt and whispering. My mind worked quickly noting that the sound came from Mina’s room. Taking off like a bullet from one of my guns I ran next door with adrenaline running through my veins, ready to fight whatever I was about to stumble upon. Slamming the door open loudly I was met with a screaming Mina and Jooheon. 
Mina was clutching a sheet to her chest and I saw red when I registered that she was naked. Jooheon was half out of her window, clothes rumpled and haphazardly hanging off of him. I didn’t have time to contemplate much of anything through the red blurring my vision. I felt like fire was licking my skin, and I wasn’t able to concentrate on anything except for the half-naked boy crawling through my window and the cool feeling of steel against my forearm. 
A quick flick of my wrist had the small blade soaring through the air and embedding in the wall next to the window. Catching the fabric of Jooheon’s sleeve, he was effectively stuck in the room as he tried to stumble out the window. Rushing out of the room and to the front door, I vaguely heard the screaming of Mina. She was calling my name and Jooheon’s name, cursing me to the depths of hell and swearing revenge that she would never pull through. 
Walking out into the warm dark night, I rounded the house and marched through the alleyway. Jooheon was struggling to rip the sleeve off his shirt, but when I grabbed his shoulder and pushed him to the ground the fabric broke with a loud split. He landed with a thud on the dirt and I was quickly upon him. Taking the knife from the sheath in my boot, I dragged him by the hair and shoved him against the wall of the house. The knife in my hand was pressing into his throat with a cold bite, and once he looked past the pain in his head fear began to swim in his eyes. 
“What did I tell you about staying away from my sister?!” I growled with unadulterated and unrestrained fury. Mina was sticking her head out of the window begging me with tears in her eyes to let him go, but I ignored her pleas as I held the life of the younger man in my hands. “If I ever catch you even looking at her I will make sure that knife hits you instead of your shirt next time.” I pressed the knife harder into his skin causing him to gulp audibly at the small bite. 
“JAE STOP!” Mina cried through the open window, and I finally looked at her tear soaked face. Rather than feel sympathy however I was furious at her stupidity. 
“Go back inside Mina. We will discuss this in the morning,” I said with a deadly cool voice. I didn’t give anyone time to react before I removed the knife and my knee came up to meet Jooheon’s stomach. He keeled over with a pained gasp and I gripped the strands of his hair to shove him away down the alley. He stumbled and fell, Mina crying out and calling me various profanities when he met the ground with a harsh thud. 
“Go,” I shouted, kicking his shin with a force. Jooheon tried to stand up, using the side of the house as leverage as he all but crawled away from me trying to catch his breath. When he made it to the end of the alleyway he turned to look back at us. But rather than shoot me a glare he met Mina’s tear-filled eyes with a rueful smile before stumbling away into the dark night. Mina’s sobs came harder as she fell back into her room, crying into the sky and cursing me profusely. 
With a sigh I looked at the now empty open window, winching at the sounds of Mina’s sobs. Despite all the anger, I felt in my body only seconds before, I still had a soft spot for my little sister. She was my everything and knowing that I was the one who made her break in such a way gripped my heart. I instantly felt remorseful, but the voice in my head kept telling me that I was doing the right thing by keeping her away from Jooheon. 
Walking back into the house, I kept telling myself I was doing the right thing. Letting Mina take her frustrations out on me, I kept telling myself I was doing the right thing. Falling asleep to the sounds of my younger sister’s crying, I kept telling myself I was doing the right thing.
I was doing the right thing.
Right?
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A/N: YAY THE FIRST CHAPTER!! I’ve been working on this baby for about a month now and I’m so damn excited to begin rolling it out. I’m gonna go more in-depth with the characters later on, but if you have any burning questions feel free to reach out to me loves. S/o to @prinzelee for beta-ing me as always! hope you enjoyed this 🖤
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