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starlit-dreaming · 2 years

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[20] in the back of my mind

Fandom: WMMAP Rating: G Ship: Eventual Lucathy, Felily, Calena, and more Note: the Twin Sibling AU that i tried so hard not to write, but i DID, so naturally i have to call myself out for writing it. will be cross-posted on ao3 and wattpad under the same title

A/N: I made a mistake in earlier chapters regarding the ages. To fix this, I'm making the clarification that Ferdinand is 8 y/o while Charlotte's 9-10 y/o. I'll make the proper edits when I'm able to.

This chapter's a bonus of being almost 4k words as opposed to my usual 3k. I highly recommend reading this fic on ao3 instead of on Tumblr (under the same title and username) because the formatting's always a pain to deal with and doesn't accurately reflect how I want the story to be read.

Also, I'm thinking of making character profiles for everyone. I'll be posting them on my Tumblr, and there will be a spoiler and spoiler-free version of the profiles (information including sexuality, names of love interests, backstory on their history in "Toska", and whether or not they will end up in a romantic relationship with Athanase at one point (as in, actually having a courtship, but no mentions of being his endgame))

The spoiler-free version will simply say if the character has appeared yet, which chapter they show up in or will be expected to appear in (which isn’t very accurate as it varies on how the story progresses during the writing process), and basic information like their full name and age.

Granted, this will take a long time for me to even get started on, even if I don’t draw the characters (I’m thinking of maybe commissioning someone if I get too lazy to draw).

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Arc 1: Beginning of the End 0 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

Arc 2: Of Princes and Villainesses 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | [20] | 21 | 22

Side Story: maybe, i’m afraid (verena/athanasios) 1 | 2

Summary:

He was pretty sure he transmigrated into a fanfic of [The Lovely Princess] — after all, he would’ve remembered if Princess Athanasia had a younger twin who died.

// A retelling of WMMAP with a vital difference — Athanasia has a younger twin brother.

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20. no one believes in me except for you

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Of all the people that had to be standing in on a personal conversation between Athan and Ver—Autumn, it just had to be Felix. If it was anyone else, Athan was confident that they'd be able to sell it as an inside joke with Autumn that helps him calm down from his overactive imagination, that it was just childish nonsense.

But Felix took part in being his caretaker for the past two years, and for him to be reliant on Autumn would be pretty suspicious. Autumn only entered his life a few months ago, and that wouldn't have been enough time for her to know how to help him in such a panicked state.

Granted, they could explain that it was a side effect from her saving him, but that sounds like a bad case of dependence.

If Athan didn't do anything, Felix might even suspect Autumn of manipulating him.

After all, it was suspicious that a little girl was capable of saving him from suffering the same way as his sister despite the fact that he was far away from the castle with his whereabouts unknown for hours. Even if Lucas was the one who did it, Autumn was considered his saviour.

He glances over to Autumn, who remains seated in a chair at his bedside. She was adamant in keeping her gaze down, and he knew better than anyone that her mind was racing with possible ideas.

A quick glance around the room was more than enough to know that it was only the three of them in the room and no one else. This place was vaguely familiar, and yet he knows that he's never seen this room before—

Wait, this room...

(It was very... bright, he thought with an inward grimace, gaze drawn to the windows that stretched from the ceiling to the floor, with its pink curtains drawn back with careless regard. Everything was very colourful, when he glances out the window and catches sight of the swaying field of flowers and the fluttering grass.)

He remembered parts of his dream with startling clarity, recalling the figure of a young maiden hidden by the white gauze curtains with blurred determination. The windows reached from nearly the top to bottom like his dream, but the curtains were a pale orange like the colour of a zinnia flower — a delicate flow and a gentle sight. It wasn't pink like his dream, and he didn't see any gaudy and overbearing sight of flowers...

("Truly, your [brother] indeed cares about your wellbeing, but there is a limit to his naïvety and wilful ignorance," he dryly comments, taking slow strides over to the armchair at the girl's bedside.

It was cold, as if no one had dared to sit and keep the bedridden lady company.)

And yet he was absolutely certain that this was the same room. A gaudy armchair was in the room, at the bedside and currently used by Autumn.

This was a room that was meant to be long forgotten.

...but for whom?

("For the day I [part] from this world, you will never truly forget me — you cannot, nor will I ever let you—")

"Where are we?"

The question brings a strange sort of dawning realization that he can't quite place, as if it were a word on the tip of his tongue. It was an inkling of who the maiden was — a young noble he must've met at the garden party his father hosted.

A lot of ladies approached his older sister while the opposite was true for himself, but only a small handful of girls had spoken to him directly from what he could remember. He couldn't think of anyone else.

They were also the only notable girls that the Original Athanasios interacted with.

Autumn, Charlotte "Lottie" Milford, and Irene "Iris" Nightingale.

So that was the question, really.

Between the three, who was the girl in his most recent memory?

Maybe it was because he noticed his impatience, Felix had answered promptly, "We arrived at Marquess Milford's Estate."

Really? It couldn't be that easy, could it? Charlotte was the girl he promised his love to? Well, it didn't seem too farfetched, did it? With Verena and Charlotte being against one another, it must've been an easy decision to be made once the Original Verena started showing her true colours. Charlotte had been the only girl who was willing to outright oppose her. Maybe the OG prince fell in love with Lottie's fierce personality?

It was very... strange how the memory of someone he once knew affected him like this.

(But then... what about Ijekiel?)

Felix was frowning, with his eyes slightly narrowed at Autumn just in a mere glance as he calmly and respectfully spoke to Athanase. "It was the closest place for Your Highness to rest after collapsing."

Ah, right...

It'd be nice if Felix would just accept that Autumn wasn't up to anything suspicious, but that would probably be a bit much, wouldn't it?

With how he kept shifting hesitant yet wary glances at Autumn, he definitely wasn't going to drop it...

And to make it worse, Athan collapsed.

. . .

Why the fuck did he even collapse in the first place?

"It's a relief that Your Highness, the Crown Prince, has woken up," Autumn stated in a gentle tone of voice, closing her eyes as she tilted her head low in a small bow as a sign of respect. 'You probably remembered something, but I really didn't think that this whole temporary amnesia trope would be this dramatic,' if she was frustrated by the inconvenience, she didn't let it show as she remained still with closed eyes. 'If anyone was supposed to get smacked dab with a temp amnesia trope, it would've been Ferdie for the divergence of surviving the Hunting Comp...'

'Well damn, thanks for the easy explanation, author,' he blinked, jewelled blue eyes staring at Felix. 'Autumn?'

'Yeah?'

'How much trust would you place in Felix?'

'Unless I became a supporter of former Emperor Anastasius, I trust him with my life. A full twelve on a scale of ten on being both trustworthy and hot. Trust-hottie, if you will. Duke Robain is a DILF, so naturally his son is also S-rank. I haven't worked out my tier lists for S, double S, and triple S-rank, but I'd say the Duke's a triple while His Majesty is a solo 'cause child neglect ain't sexy, and Sir Felix being a double S because he stepped up to the plate of being a caretaker when he didn't have to.'

And it was then that Athan deeply regretted his decision in asking Autumn for her opinion. It didn't matter that her confirming Felix's trustworthiness — among other things — was the solution to solving a landslide of their problems.

Like, really. How difficult is it for Autumn to stop bringing up DILFs when he never even asked about it to begin with?

'Why do you ask?' Autumn finally looked at him, a frown on her lips as she stared at him.

What aren't you telling me? That was the question written on Autumn's face as sharp blue eyes looked at him.

His hands trembled, clutching the bedsheets. He thought of the young maiden — er, well, Charlotte, he supposes — and how she sat still as though she were a corpse. It didn't help that her hands were cold, and she had pale skin, but he couldn't shake that image away from his mind. The feeling of her knuckles, her fingers, and the warmth she sapped from him still remained.

That was real, he knows this without a shred of doubt. While he knows nothing of what happened to lead up to that interaction, nor does he know the aftermath, but it was very clear what had happened.

She was dying from an incurable illness, and he could only sit by her side, keeping her company until the day she died.

He wasn't sure how he was going to save Charlotte.

'I'm gonna tell him.'

Autumn never mentioned anything about Charlotte dying, either. Maybe he was wrong about the maiden being Charlotte? What if the dying maiden was an adopted daughter — maybe even an illegitimate daughter? Wait, that was crazy talk. Was he actually accusing Marquess Milford of infidelity when he loathed his birth father for the same reason?

Still, even though he was pretty damn confident that it might've been Charlotte at this point, there just wasn't any guarantee.

So... maybe Felix would be able to help give him a little more room to work with.

'Hold the fuck up — you're gonna tell him that I think he's a trust-hottie?!'

Athan ignored his friend's moment ruining panicked thoughts and looked at Felix dead in the eyes:

"This isn't my first life."

Silence immediately followed after the statement was made. His heart pounds, his stomach churns — he feels... he feels nauseous, to say the least.

Everything felt... unpleasant.

("Well, maybe he should've kept his mouth shut," she grumbles.

He laughs, "You think so, too?"

. . .

He gets the impression that she smiles at him, and his cheeks burn and his heart flutters.

'Oh,' he thinks. 'Oh.')

Autumn was — well, she wasn't angry or horrified, but he heard absolutely nothing from her. She was frozen in place, dark pale — purple? No, it was definitely blue — eyes staring at him in stunned silence. Her lips paled, an indication that she was biting her bottom lip as her eyes anxiously flicker to Felix.

He could feel that the reveal to Felix had left her unsettled and upset.

(Or maybe it was him projecting onto her.)

Honestly, he understood her view of confiding in somebody else. There wasn't any reason for her to think that Felix would trust them. Hilise Inoaden from The Solitary Lady was a prime example of being considered a lunatic when she confided in her family regarding her time loops, and frankly that wasn't what he wanted as an end result. Unlike Hilise, Felix genuinely cared about him. On top of that, even though Athanase didn't necessarily want to die, but rather, he wanted to live comfortably and content.

In order for Felix to believe his words, he needed undeniable proof to show that he wasn't crazy.

And that proof was the existence of Jennette de Alger Obelia.

He opens his mouth, intent on saying her name, only to lose his voice as the image of the original Athanasia flashes through his mind, face red with tears staining a wretched face. It was an unsettling image, an older version of when Athy had cried when she woke up for a few minutes during her brush against death a few weeks back.

("I'm your daughter too, father.")

No, he couldn't. If he introduced Jennette, then wouldn't everything worsen? After all, that would only mean that he and his sister would be more likely to die early. Maybe Countess Rosalia would even try to frame him or his sister for poisoning Jennette before they're fifteen...

Everything was already changing, but Athan wasn't ready for that sort of problem in particular. Jennette entering their lives early would only alter the chain of events.

That would ruin everything and he knows it.

"I don't actually want to be at the Arlantan Hunting Competition. Frankly, it sounds like more trouble than it's worth to even go, even if I think learning how to wield a sword is pretty cool. You can dismiss it as a child's overactive imagination, or just me overthinking things, but I want to prevent a war between Arlanta and Obelia."

Felix stared at him with wide eyes. He was dumbfounded and speechless, which wasn't very surprising. How does anyone react when a little kid tells them that a war was going to happen?

'What are you doing?' He wasn't sure how, but Autumn managed to maintain a blank facial expression. 'He's never going to believe that.'

"Marquess Milford's true history, from living as a commoner to the actual reasons for the deaths of his sisters," he states. Felix jolts upon hearing that, his eyes snapping back to Athan. "The Countess Nightingale and the purpose of her family and the role they play for the imperial family despite providing nothing more than ambiance music. I even know the truth of why His Majesty's engagement to Lady Penelope Judith, the younger sister of Countess Rosalia Judith, was broken off."

Athan could tell that just from three sentences, Felix was unsettled by the fact that he knew more information about the things that no longer mattered to noble society or was the best kept secret within the imperial court. There was no way for Athan to know, and under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have known.

But, Athan had reread those 12 chapters Autumn had written for Toska countless times. Over and over again, to the point that he memorized the sequence of events and even remembered the names of side characters — including the ones mentioned only one time and the chapters they were brought up in.

He read the character sheets, the additional background, the side stories that had no direct involvement with the canon characters.

So Athan knew more than enough to convince him.

"Let's speak of Marquess Milford, as his story is less personal to the two of us. He grew up as a commoner until the deaths of his parents, in which his birth father had decided to lie and cover up the truth of his parentage in order to officially give him the Milford Family Name. He was never meant to inherit the noble title, as he had an older sister who was executed for angering the former tyrannical Emperor. It was an informal setting, given that he had killed her during a ball in the hallways. She had worn a dress and was unarmed, but if she fought back in any way, she would've been given a charge for treason and therefore get everyone in her family executed."

Nobody was supposed to know how the eldest of the Milfords had actually died. It was covered up as an assassination attempt against the former Emperor, and the former Milford Heiress had gotten caught in the crossfire...

Except, the youngest Milford had been a witness to the murder of her sister. She saw her sister die and was left traumatized.

(Like Ferdie, the youngest Milford, witnessing the death of Autumn's parents.

And just like his aunt, he lived to tell of it...

Not for long, of course.)

"So, the former Heiress was murdered, and the younger sister saw enough to be traumatized in the end, but she told her family before she died. It's the only reason why you and father trust Marquess Milford more than Countess Nightingale. You both ensured his loyalty by getting rid of the former Emperor."

Felix's mouth remained shut, his eyes trained on Athan with a sense of seriousness that he's never seen before in either lifetimes, and that included all the posts tagged with "Lovely Princess Felix" — not a single piece of fanart of a handsome and serious man.

Nevertheless, it was clear that Felix didn't know what to say, or perhaps he didn't know where to start.

Should he have started from the beginning? Or perhaps he should've given Felix some time to digest the information...

But if he didn't do things like this, then Felix would've dismissed it as a child repeating the things that he's heard before. After all, Marquess Milford's history could easily be found out by asking the right questions to the right people.

Would Countess Nightingale's history be enough to prove his words?

"How did Marquess Milford's younger sister die?"

That was the only thing Felix had asked for.

If he answered this wrong, Felix might assume that someone with a grudge against the Marquess had spilled all of this information.

But fortunately for him, he knew the answer.

"People say she killed herself," he tells him without missing a beat. "In actuality, she screamed the supposed "accusations" at one of the nobles' meetings, barging in there in place of her brother who had to leave for the Arlantan Hunting Competition as his family regularly attended as one of Obelia's Diplomats. She was thrown into a jail cell until the Marquess returned and was deemed to be mad from the grief of her sister's death. The family was pardoned, and she was found dead by hanging, but the Marquess believed that it was the former Emperor's scheme of painting his sister as crazy."

If anything, Felix didn't seem to be reassured by his answer.

"I believe you, Your Highness."

"You do?" Autumn blurts out, gasping out a squeak as she covers her mouth with her hand as if she had yet to say anything. "I beg your pardon, Sir Felix, but is it true?"

Felix nodded, frowning. "Everyone in noble society now thinks that Lady Lizbeth killed herself due to grief of Lady Ariella's death and was unable to bear with the knowledge that nobody believed her. While he isn't happy, Marquess Milford is happy that his younger sister is no longer considered a shame to the family name and that she's no longer seen as a madwoman. Seeing how close His Highness, Prince Athanasios, is with Marquess Milford, I'd imagine that it's possible they would have an honest conversation about such a thing years from now, given that it's still a sensitive topic for him."

Huh. That really was convenient. Well, it is a story that came to life, so it was only natural for the world to fill in the gaps.

Still, Felix believed that pretty easily...

Not that he's complaining.

"Father doesn't know, of course," he shifts, awkwardly adding to the conversation. "Autumn remembers too, and she would know more than me because she lived longer than me."

'Don't throw me under the bus!' she screeched in his mind. "You give me too much credit, Your Highness. I didn't live for nearly as long as you believe," Autumn shook her head, giving him a pointed stare. The switch between her mind and actuality were as jarring as ever. 'Verena died in the same year as Athanasios. Usually execution, other times suicide.'

"...Autumn?" Felix looked at Autumn curiously.

"Shit," he thought. 'Was that supposed to be a secret?'

"Well shit," Autumn sighed. 'I wanted to keep that a secret.'

Out of everything he's heard tonight, hearing two "children" swear had startled Felix the most.

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Since he successfully convinced Felix, they were free to speak more openly around him. Of course, they had to wait until they returned to the castle since they would be staying at the estate for a few days until he regained his strength — Athan also didn't want a repeat of someone overhearing a conversation between him and Autumn, especially when he wasn't in his right mind...

Even though it would be better to share the information with Autumn, his dream was very personal.

("If this love is a curse, then I would gladly be scorned and burned in hell.")

Recalling his own words, he knew he had lived that very moment. He had felt anguish for his dying lover that it had brought him to physical tears when he awoke. He felt warmth in his heart, a fluttering warmth when she smiled just for him and him alone.

Athan knew a love between friends, a love so strong that they were family. He knew of a toxic love between two romantic partners — he's seen and read of it, he's lived through it even if he remembers nothing.

But he's never been in love, he was sure of it until now.

Love, he learns, is both a beautiful and ugly thing. It's painfully heart wrenching, it's rough around the edges, and it's filled with complications. But it's also delightful elation, it's easier to fall than expected, and it's... it's simple.

Athanase was in love with this girl at one point in his life, and now he's left with vague memories. It was as simple as that.

But why? Wasn't he curious? How did they fall in love? What made him fall to begin with?

("Would you leave me... if you saw the real me?"

. . .

"I don't know.")

He doesn't want to know.

(Oh, but he does.)

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"Autumn was really surprised that you believed me," he admits into the quiet of the guest room, with Felix sitting in the armchair at his side. It was just the two of them this time. "She didn't think anyone else would — apart from her — and that's only because we both lived the same experience."

Felix stared at him for a moment, his gaze softening as his frown became more neutral. It wasn't quite a smile, but it could've been.

"You're not the type to lie for no reason, Your Highness," Felix stated. "And it does explain the close relationship Your Highness has with Lady Verena — Autumn. A lot of nobles believed that you are both infatuated with one another."

Athan immediately wrinkled his nose at the thought. "She's like a sister to me."

Felix hadn't responded to that right away, as if he were contemplating on whether or not he ought to say something.

"Pardon my asking, but when did Lady Autumn regain her... memories?"

"On the day of my collapse."

"I see..."

"We were both engaged and she wasn't a Saintess. Father didn't care about my sister and I, so he let us do as we pleased as long as we didn't bother him. From what I can remember, Lady Verena's love became a form of obsession which worsened our relationship. Now that we both... remember the past, that will no longer be an issue. She had a somewhat poor relationship with our peers in the past. It's why she wants to be called Autumn, and why she wants to show me that she's not the same person she used to be."

"Is that so?" Felix frowned. "That's... a bit concerning, Your Highness."

"I know, but Lady Verena is no longer the same person she once was," Athan stated. "After losing me, Autumn's trying to atone for the past."

It wasn't the most inaccurate lie he's ever said. Autumn was distraught and regretful after he died, and even now he could see traces of how desperate she wanted him to confide in her. Clearly, she thinks that it was her fault for not being there for him when he died, and so explains the reason why she's trying to make up for it.

"Does Her Highness, your sister, know about this?" Felix hesitated.

"Partially," he shook his head. "She knows about me, but not about Lady Verena."

"That certainly explains a bit. Perhaps you should talk to Crown Princess Athanasia? It seems that she doesn't wish to speak to Lady Autumn at all..."

"I can't force them to get along," he shook his head. "And she avoids me left and right for no good reason."

Felix is silent for a long moment, his face pale as if a horrid thought had come to mind.

"Please reconsider."

"What?" Athanase blinked, looking at Felix.

"Your Highness, please reconsider mending your relationship with Her Highness."

"Why are you suddenly insistent on this?" Athan blinked.

"I don't want history to repeat itself," Felix quietly stated. "Especially with Emperor Claude and Lady Diana's children."

'Oh,' he thinks. 'Oh.'

Felix didn't want a repeat of Anastasius and Claude.

Maybe that was the possible reason why Athanase died in Toska? He doesn't know how he died in his first life. Maybe Athanasia was the catalyst.

He had mixed feelings about that thought, in all honesty.

Maybe he'll talk to Autumn first...

#fic: in the back of my mind #wmmap #who made me a princess #wynter writes

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likeachampion · 5 months

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I need to ask a question. But before I ask this question I need to add some context. So I’m gonna rant a bit.

Four years ago my dad left our family. More specifically he had an affair and left to be with his mistress and her children. Of course my mum, siblings (I have four siblings) and I were all very heartbroken. One of the last things I heard my dad say was that he had always wanted to leave but felt guilty because we were all so young and that now we were older we did not need him anymore. Now, my sister at the time was living with her partner, my brother and other sister were frequently coming and going and my younger brother locked himself in his room. While I don’t blame them in the slightest this meant that the majority of the time I was left with my mum. And in the beginning it was hard. There would be times that she wouldn’t get out of bed. Times I spent consoling her as she cried. Times when she completely broke down on the ground and other much more dark times when she voiced wanting to die or kill herself. This as I’m sure you can imagine was incredibly painful to witness. I love my mother dearly, we are very close and she has always helped me through my own personal issues. So along with the sadness came anger.

Growing up, especially when I was in high school, I suspected that my dad may have been cheating. There would be times when his phone would come up with messages that clearly was not from my mother. Times when I would be looking for something at his desk and he had left his email open. Times when I would hear him arguing with my mum about someone. However I dismissed these signs as I didn’t want them to be true. I thought to myself that if my mother knew about it (which she did) there must be a reason behind her not saying anything. So I stayed quiet. And acted like normal, although my relationship with my dad became much more strained. Especially since my dad never really… understood me? I’m a highly sensitive and emotional person. I’ve had anxiety and depression since a young age and I continue to struggle with this. And my dad is not an emotional person. He finds it very hard to empathise with people, not to mention his casual racism, sexism and homophobia. As such I’ve had issues with connecting with him.

Anyways, as time went on other things started to come out. I think because my mother had kept it secret for so long occasionally she would burst and tell me things.

Like the time when she and my dad worked at the same company. They were married expecting I believe was my sister (the first child) and my dad was dating another woman in the office. Then shortly after my brother was born my dad left to be with another woman. My mother suffered from postpartum depression. Which she was left to deal with alone with my very young sister and my new born brother. Or the time shortly after I myself was born and my mum and grandfather took us away on a trip. My dad said he had to work. Turns out he had taken his then gf away on holiday. There was also the time my dad gave $40,000 I believe, to a woman he met online. I don’t think I need to tell anyone that it was actually a scam. He told my aunt and grandmother (his sister and mother) that my mum was the one who lost the money (additional note: we are not rich people, we lived in a run down house) that money was saved up to try to fix it.

Long story short my dad has had multiple affairs during his thirty year marriage with my mum. That doesn’t even include the other shitty things he did like try to steal $200,000 out of his mothers account by forging her name. Or the time he tired to punch my mums sister and mother because they rang him during his mother’s birthday lunch because I (a baby) wouldn’t stop crying and they didn’t know what to do. My mums dad literally had to restrain him.

Back to the present. It’s been four years now since my mum and dad got divorced. During this time I did not see my dad. Communication was limited to text. I want to make it clear that I wanted it this way. Like I previously mentioned, along with the sadness came anger, especially the more I learnt about my dad’s actions. This meant a lot of angry texts. But a part of what made me even angrier was the denial. I got lots of I’m sorrys. But no admission that what he did was wrong. There were even times when he told me he didn’t know where all my anger and hurt was coming from. That “it didn’t happen to me” it “had nothing to do with me” it “happened to your mother not you”. My personal favourite was when he told me I was angry because I was unhappy with my own life.

This all came to a head this weekend. It was my brother’s wedding (wooo). My dad brought his gf and her children. Now for most of the night I was able to ignore and avoid both him and her. Until the end. Most people had left and I had had maybe one too many cocktails. I saw her getting up to leave. But I didn’t want her to leave without having told her how I felt. So I did. At least I tried, my rant was cut short by the appearance of my brother which she used to slip away. Then my dad appears asking me what’s wrong. I tell him to never let her appear before me again. To which he replies: that happened four years ago. You need to let it go. He then went on to say I was not the only victim. (Another note: my dad thinks of himself as a victim of a loveless marriage). At this point my brother escorts him out.

I apologised to my brother and his wife. I realise that it was not the time or place to go on a rant and that I shouldn’t have done it. I feel guilt and shame that I did.

Fast forward to the next morning. I wake up to a text from my aunt (my dad’s sister) she tells me that I need to let everything go. That I need to forgive and forget otherwise I will stay a bitter person. She then suggests I see a psychologist.

I reply to my aunt that I have seen many psychologists over my life and no psychologist has ever told me that the path to healing was through forgiveness and forgetfulness. Instead they described how to work through the pain and trauma. By accepting it. By feeling it. By acknowledging it. By talking about it. Something I tried to do multiple times with my dad only to be shut down.

As such, I have for the moment, decided to keep a distance between my dad and I. I personally believe that sometimes the best path forward is for both parties the go their separate ways. Something I told my aunt. She replied that healed people, good people, forgive.

So my question is this. Am I a miserable person because I cannot forgive my dad? Am I a bad person?

While I agree I am not completely healed I am trying to. In the way that I feel is best for me. But my aunt is under the impression that I’ve had enough time to heal.

Is it odd that I still feel anger four years later? That I still feel hurt?

I’m not sure if I’ve explained things clearly but feel free to discuss and ask questions.

I just wanna know if I’m crazy or something

#personal #family #trauma #mental health #cheating #affair #divorce #am i the asshole #aita #depression #anxiety #ask me anything

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haikyuu-scenarios-drabbles · 3 years

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Shower Friends (Miya Atsumu x F!reader)

The dorm you live in has co-ed bathrooms. Why that’s remotely a good idea is beyond you; and recently, your precious shower time is being interrupted by a certain blonde haired setter for the volleyball team. When he lies to his teammates that he has a girlfriend, somehow you get roped into his scheme.

genre(s): college!au, fake dating, angst, fluff, mutual pining, enemies to lovers (kinda), eventual smut (maybe) words: 4.1k warnings: mentions of alcohol

a/n: im certified atsumu simp now

taglist: @apollochjld @kurosarium @vicassa @carbs-need-more-love @underratedmage @idek-at-thispoint @wtfeverbrandi @food8me @yikes-buddy @ntimacy @nyxiie

| Chapter One |

Chapter Two

When you turn the corner to head towards the gym, Atsumu is already waiting for you. Determined to make this as convincing as possible, he slings an arm around your shoulders and you do a fantastic job of pressing yourself against his side, wrapping your own arm around his middle. You ignore the thought that he is comfortingly warm and very solid next you, reminding yourself you’re doing this for peaceful showers.

The two of you approach the gym and as if they were waiting for you, the entire team is standing at the entrance. A few of their brows raise, clearly surprised Atsumu wasn’t lying. Though some of them look suspicious, eyeing the two of you up and you prepare yourself for questions.

When you get within earshot, one of them shouts, “Wow Miya, we really thought you were lying!��

“Yeah! Why’ve you been hiding this beauty from us, huh?”

Before he can speak, for some reason you decide to take the blame, answering, “I was a little nervous to meet you all for a while.”

If Atsumu is surprised at all, he hides it, instead holding you a bit closer, his hand splaying across your opposite shoulder and gushing, “Cute, isn’t she?”

One of them who doesn’t seem convinced asks, “So how’d you meet?”

Now Atsumu takes the lead. “Funny story actually! We met in the bathroom! Her favorite shower stall is the one right next to mine, and we both like late night showers.”

You can’t help the frown that turns your lips downward. “He wouldn’t leave me alone,” you admit, making the members of the team smirk a little bit. “I swear, he’d wait around for me.”

“I did not!” He pouts, and it’s beginning to look like the more suspicious members are starting to believe you.

So, you go in for the kill. “Sure, you didn’t,” you smile, reaching up to press a chaste kiss to his cheek that you don’t give yourself time to think is okay or not. That seems to stun Atsumu, which is a feat in itself, but you don’t give anyone time to think anything of it as you give them a light wave goodbye and slip out of Atsumu’s arms. “It was nice meeting you all, but shouldn’t you get to practice? I’m sure I’ll be seeing you more often now!”

They give you parting waves, some of them just as stunned as Atsumu seems to be. On your way out, you risk a glance backwards and see them surround Atsumu, one of them pulling him into a headlock and ruffling his blonde locks while they all laugh and enter the gym. Atsumu grinning the widest of them all. You aren’t sure why, but you’re smiling too. Strangely glad to have helped him out.

His teammates encircle him, clapping him on the back and congratulating him, jokingly calling him a bastard for going and snagging a girl like that. He can’t help thinking the same. You shocked him with that kiss out of the blue, enough that he probably looked more lovestruck than shocked to his teammates. He’s impressed with your commitment to this charade.

Before he disappears into the gym, Atsumu takes one last look at you heading down the path. That went perfectly. And even though he knows he shouldn’t, he thinks about that small little kiss the entire practice.

The following days are absolute hell. You have to garner the courage to tell your roommate before word gets out because the rumor that Miya Atsumu finally has a girlfriend spreads like wildfire. She’s hurt at first, but like you suspect, she forgives you after you tell her how you and Atsumu met.

She seems to think the shower story is the most adorable thing she’s ever heard as her squeals of, “So cute!!” are loud enough you swear the entire floor must hear it.

Your daily routine changes, feeling like you have to peer around every corner in fear of the fan club waiting to ambush you. But after reluctantly disclosing that to Atsumu, you notice he makes a point to walk with you whenever he can. His arm wrapped around your shoulders and once when you actually do run in to the fan club, the glare he gives them is cold enough to ice over a lake and you’re pretty sure they won’t bother you even if Atsumu is absent.

Additionally, you and Atsumu start spending a lot more time together. You eat lunch with him almost every day, sometimes joined by a few members of the team, sometimes by your roommate, other times the two of you eat alone. And you’re beginning to find those are the days you like the most. The days when the two of you can just be without feeling the pressure to pretend.

“So does your brother still play volleyball?” You ask one day, curious why if they were such a powerhouse in high school why they didn’t continue that into college.

“I always liked volleyball just a little more than him.”

“He quit?”

Atsumu shrugs, shoving another mouthful of rice into his mouth. “He went to culinary school, always had a weird place in his heart for food.”

“And that was volleyball for you?”

He stares at you, unprepared for this barrage of questions. There was this strange familiarity growing between the two of you, and the more time he spends with you alone the more he feels like he knows you. It makes it easier to pretend for everyone else, but he’s starting to wonder if it’s making it harder for him to remember this is all pretend.

Before he can reply, you continue, “If you love volleyball so much, why aren’t you playing professionally then?”

His brows lift. “And how did yer pretty little ears hear about that?”

You roll your eyes, but definitely need to shove the feeling of embarrassment down to be able to admit, “My roommate told me.”

“Curious today, aren’tcha?”

You stiffen. “Well, I should probably know these things if we’re dating,” you mumble, returning to your food trying to hide your flustered expression.

Yet again, you surprise him with your commitment to this façade. The two of you could easily sit here in silence since it’s just the two of you, but since you’ve started eating lunch together both of you have started to get to know the other more. So, he just smiles at you and admits, “Yeah, I could, but I was kinda lookin’ forward to the whole college experience, ya know?” He rests his chin in his hand, wondering if he should continue. He hasn’t really told anyone his feelings about playing professionally, and how he feels that with every day he ignores the offers the less likely he’ll be able to make the transition the longer he waits. “I’m still thinkin’ about it. The offers are still there.”

You cock your head, and he refuses to look at you, feeling like you have a gift for seeing straight through him. “Is college that great?”

Now he laughs, and in an attempt to bring this conversation back to lighter waters he wraps an arm around you and smothers you against his chest teasing, “Yeah, otherwise I wouldn’ta met you!”

You roll your eyes and tell yourself that for the sake of the charade you let yourself sink into his embrace. When he releases you, you stick your tongue out at him. “I know you purposefully changed the subject, but I’ll let it slide. Consider yourself lucky.”

He puts his hands together in a fake prayer. “I’ll forever remember the kindness,” he says dramatically.

To which you scoff, “I highly doubt that.”

You study together when he’s available, but usually volleyball takes precedence over studying most nights. Sometimes he joins you in the library late at night, finding you in your favorite corner, plopping down beside you, blonde hair damp from the quick shower he took and distracting you from schoolwork with how practice went that day.

Already a few weeks in to your agreement, one night the two of you are in the library rather late, Atsumu’s practice ended late and he has a paper due in the morning that he’s desperate to finish. For the first hour, he’s chatty, unable to focus on what he needs to get done, despite constant reminders from you and promises that you’ll go get ice cream from the dining hall when he finishes.

The next hour, he seems to get in the zone, typing furiously away on his computer. Honestly, he isn’t sure if what he’s writing is even good but at this point, he doesn’t care, it just needs to get done.

But after his stint of concentration, you’re suddenly struck by the realization that he’s been silent beside you for a few minutes now. No sound of typing or conversation, and it goes on long enough that you become concerned. Looking over, you find him slumped over in his chair, head on his keyboard, fast asleep.

You fight the urge to laugh at him. Taking only a few selfish moments to marvel over his face, his usual smirking expression replaced by his eyes softly closed and his mouth slightly open. He sighs a deep breath before subconsciously stretching his arms out across the table and you get a nice view of his biceps flexing beneath his black shirt.

It’s then you become aware that you’ve been staring at him way too long and shake him awake.

His eyes flutter open, and upon seeing you, that once infuriating smirk he likes to wear rises to his lips. “Who woulda thought I’d be wakin’ up to a pretty girl lookin’ at me like that,” he drawls, knowing exactly how to fluster you.

You shake your head, laughing and packing up your things. “Come on big baby, it’s bedtime.”

“Yes ma’am,” he murmurs, picking his head up and promptly stuffing his things away in his bag. You decide to ignore what his soft, sleepy voice is doing to your heart rate and instead focus on how he’s putting his things away. That backfires on you, as you start thinking about how long and deft his fingers are and you have to physically look away from him to stop your mind going in that direction.

The two of you leave the library, walking quietly back to your dorm building, you aren’t expecting his hand to slip into yours; those long fingers you were just trying to get out of your head intertwining with yours. You look up at him confusedly and without looking at you, he brushes it off, “Just in case.”

You press your lips into a firm line, replying, “Right.”

He won’t dare admit he did that subconsciously. He just reached out for your hand like it was the most natural thing in the world, only realizing his mistake from the confused expression you gave him. He internalizes his sigh of relief that he can pass it off as keeping up your fake relationship and you seem none the wiser.

When you make it up to your floor, at the point in the hallway where you need to split ways, despite nobody being around that you need to fake for, you press a light kiss to his cheek and say, “Goodnight Atsumu.”

You’re gone before he can get a reply in.

You start coming to his games more often, dragging your roommate along (though she doesn’t mind one bit) and do your best to ignore just how good he looks playing volleyball. It doesn’t help that your roommate keeps commenting things like, “god you are so lucky,” and “just look at him!”

You are looking at him. And it pisses you off that she’s right. He’s annoyingly god-like, and you find yourself staring at his biceps and thighs a lot more than is necessary. Your heart fluttering traitorously whenever he grins when he makes a successful play. Even when he raises his fist to silence the crowd when he serves, which before you thought was utterly ridiculous—you now find yourself holding your breath as goosebumps spread across your skin.

He denies to himself just how much he loves seeing you in the stands. Unable to stop the feeling that swells in his chest with the way you look at him. With the fan club, he knows all they see is the surface. He’s cocky enough to know he’s good-looking (and if he didn’t think so, the fan club certainly feels otherwise). But with you—you look like you want to devour him. He doesn’t know if you are aware of it or not, but you watch him with predatory intent in a way he can’t explain that makes the hair stand up on the back of his neck.

At some point, he has to admit it. He fucking loves it.

One particularly memorable game, he swears you never take your eyes off him. And he feels like he’s at the top of his game, like nothing can go wrong for him. He’s so full of adrenaline and excitement afterwards that when he finds you in the hallway, he sweeps you up into an enormous hug. Your laughter filling the air and god—he loves your laugh; he could listen to it forever.

You don’t even care how sweaty he is or really if anyone is watching. Your instinct is to wrap your arms around him and squeeze him back, your ego inflating from the glares you can feel boring into your back from the fan club. And it’s easy—far too easy to forget that all of this is fake.

Especially when he pulls away only to plant a kiss right on your mouth, his body too full of adrenaline to truly realize what he’s doing.

And instead of pushing him away, you selfishly pull him closer, fingers laced behind his neck and body slotting against him so perfectly he has to resist the urge to groan. He cradles your head, drawing out the kiss for as long as he can consider appropriate, every fiber of his being screaming at him to just confess to you.

Instead, he lets you go, both of you chalking it up to the adrenaline and the charade. Both secretly knowing it was more than that to both of you.

And you don’t speak of it again, continuing with your sham relationship like nothing has changed.

But a lot of things have changed. It’s been almost 2 months since this started, well past the time needed to convince his teammates this is real. Some part of him refuses to bring it up, unwilling to let you go and wanting to drag this on for as long as possible.

Despite knowing that this will all have to come to an end eventually.

“You gotta be there!” He pouts, doing a wonderful job of obscuring your view of the notebook on the table in front of you. “There’s no way my girlfriend would miss it!”

You groan, head resting on the chair behind you. Atsumu has been trying to convince you for the better part of the hour to come to the party the volleyball team is throwing this weekend. No matter how many times you’ve expressed your disinterest, he’s relentless.

He wiggles his brows. “I’ll throw in an invitation for your roommate too,” he says, knowing full well your roommate will be a pain in your side if she finds out you got invited to this party and refrained from taking her with.

Now you sigh, annoyed that he knows you well enough to sweeten the deal like that. And it isn’t the party that is deterring you, it’s a certain blonde-haired volleyball setter that you’ve been getting far too close to lately that’s making you hesitate. Something about the atmosphere of a party and a little alcohol in both of your systems makes you uneasy. And not in a bad way.

“You promise not to ditch me?” You pout, faking the reason you don’t want to attend.

He crosses over his heart. “I swear it. And besides, I’d be crazy to let ya wander around by yerself.” He gives you a quick wink, then a kiss to your cheek and he’s off to practice, shouting over his shoulder that the party starts at nine.

Your roommate is over the moon at the invitation, insisting you can’t possibly show up right at nine. So, you and she show up fashionably late around ten. Within a few moments, Atsumu finds you and gathers you up into his arms, whispering in your ear, “You’re late, where ya been?”

You smirk. “Roommate insisted on being fashionably late.”

He just chuckles, low in his throat and directly beside your ear—a sound that makes your toes involuntarily curl in your shoes. God, if you’re already curling your toes at the sound of just his voice you’re in for a long night. After releasing you, he easily greets your roommate and takes the two of you to the kitchen where cans of various alcohols are waiting.

You swear your roommate is going to combust with joy, taking a can for herself then happily heading off towards the dance floor. You’re glad she’s pretty independent as you can already feel you’re going to be glued to Atsumu’s side the entire night. You eye the drinks, sigh, and take one for yourself. If this night’s going to be long, might as well enjoy it.

He just watches you, amused, and unable to stop himself from thinking about how good you fucking look tonight. He wanted you to be here not to keep up the act of your relationship but because he actually wants to spend time with you. Lately, it’s the highlight of most of his days, and sue him if he wants to have a little fun.

Setting an arm on your shoulder, he first parades you around the party, letting everyone see just who he’s ‘dating’ and feeling his ego boost from the looks of jealousy he garners from a few people. The teammates who have eaten lunch with you a few times are happy to see you, indulging you in a bit of chit chat and helping loosen you up.

You might’ve been embarrassed to be on Atsumu’s arm had it not felt so damn great to be met with looks of jealousy from guys and girls alike, and it was doing wonders for your self-confidence. Enough that you tap him on the arm and ask to be taken back to the kitchen for another drink. He graciously obliges you, and once both of you have another can in hand, he finds somewhere for you two to sit.

It doesn’t even occur to you how easy it is to curl up beside him, his arm around you on the back of the couch, hand resting on your opposite shoulder while the two of you observe the party in full swing.

“You guys really know how to throw a party,” you comment, nodding to the room that was completely cleared out to make room for a dance floor.

“What’s that?” He teases. “I thought you didn’t want to come!”

Poking him in the side and refusing to look up at him, you admit, “I changed my mind.”

You know you’ve dug yourself a nice little hole when he continues, “Are my ears deceiving me? Are you admitting you were wrong?”

“Spare me,” you beg, a grin on your lips nonetheless. It’s then you spot your roommate out on the dance floor, her eyes connecting with yours long enough that she starts beckoning you towards her. “Oh god,” you groan.

She doesn’t stop though, instead abandoning the dance floor and approaching you and Atsumu. “Excuse me sir, but I’m gunna have to steal her for a dance or two.”

Subconsciously you cling to Atsumu, jerking your eyes up to him as he smiles easily saying, “Of course.” Taking your arm, she pulls you up from the couch and out of Atsumu’s arms, dragging you towards the dance floor while you look back at him with a pleading expression. He only waves idly back at you, that infuriating smirk splaying across his lips.

Worming her way into the throng of bodies, she puts her hands on your hips forcing you to sway them along to the music, laughing and encouraging you to ‘let go!!’. Eventually, there’s no resisting the thumping music or the movement of bodies around you, and soon your laughter is mixing with hers as the two of you dance ridiculously with one another.

Atsumu watches from the couch, utterly entranced at your change in behavior. He’s unable to look at anyone else but you, like the rest of the party falls away and its just you on that dancefloor swaying your hips under the flashing lights. He hardly knows what to do with himself as you laugh alongside your roommate, unaware he’s watching you.

At some point, you remember the boy you came here for, and fight your way to the edge of the crowd to catch sight of him. He’s where you left him, sitting on a couch a room away, an ankle crossed over his knee, still drinking his beer and looking unbothered by your absence. You look at him a moment, sitting there in his fitted black tee and dark jeans, so casually good-looking it isn’t fair.

His dark eyes meet yours and there’s something in them that sends goosebumps prickling across your skin. You’re barely even tipsy but there must be something stirring your boldness, otherwise you would have never lifted a hand and beckoned him towards you.

He’s pinned to his seat for a moment when you motion him to join you on the dancefloor. He has an uncanny suspicion that something is going to happen out there, under the safety of the pulsing lights and hidden by the mass of bodies. But some part of him wants that, whispering that it’s all he wants. So, he rises, setting his can on a nearby table and strides out to meet you.

A fire lights in your stomach as he stops in front of you, and now that he’s here you are quite sure what to do with yourself. “You looked bored,” you lie.

“Well, my date ditched me,” he remarks. “But I like her, so I’ll let it slide.”

Your answering smile is enough to send him through the roof. And soon, you’re engulfed by the surging crowd, getting sucked into the middle of the floor, a sense of reality slipping out from beneath the two of you. His hands at your waist, your body pressed up against his, his forehead resting on yours—he’s desperate to close the gap between the two of you. Dying to kiss you, to feel your lips mold to his, fingers lacing in his hair—he wonders what kind of sounds he could elicit from you, sounds just for him, sounds that would get lost in the thumping beat.

His better sense tells him to resist. Knowing that even though you’ve kissed before, this one would be different. It’s just the two of you, free from the pressure of pretending, he wouldn’t be able to pass it off as an act. And even if he could, he isn’t sure he wants to.

All the while, you’re watching him, wondering if he’s going to take the leap. Part of you urging him to. Pathetically wanting him to smother you in his arms and the two of you can just ignore it all tomorrow. It’s seemingly what you do best.

He doesn’t though, allowing him to just enjoy this moment—your proximity, warm breath mingling with his, arms resting on his broad shoulders as the crowd undulates around you. To him, there’s nothing else around, just you and your body fitting perfectly to his, back curved to press closer to him—he’s pitifully so lost in the way you’re moving those hips making him move along with you.

He’s grateful that if you notice him struggling to keep his composure, you don’t say anything. But when he glances at your face, you’re blissfully unaware of his plight, eyes closed murmuring along to the music and relishing the moment in your own way. Your thoughts dominated by how warm he is, how solid he feels, how his hands are resting on your back.

And the two of you stay like that, until you’re broken from your reverie by one of his teammates whistling loudly at the two of you, eyebrows wiggling suggestively that Atsumu just huffs a breath out at.

“I think I need another drink,” you say, pulling away from him.

His arms feel empty now, the clamor of the party destroying the quiet and intimate bubble the two of you had created. But instead of doing anything about it, he just gives you a winning smile—one he feels is half-assed, replying, “Ditto.”

#miya atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #atsumu x reader #haikyuu reader insert #miya atsumu #miya atsumu imagine #miya atsumu scenario #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu scenario #miya atsumu reader insert #haikyuu

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astaroth1357 · 3 years

Note

Do you think Simeon is Falling? He's been acting Solomon level of shadiness, or was your bangle theory correct and its failing and the real Simeon is poking through?

Honestly, I don't know what's up with Simeon... I know there's a lot of theories going around about it and I've been poking through them in my own time. As far as I can see there’s probably three likely scenarios.

CAUTION: Probably going to be spoilers for events in Season 2-3 to follow under cut. Read at your own discretion.

1. He's falling and has been for some time now.

Something has always struck me as kind of off about Simeon - and I think even the characters in game think the same - it's just been hard to put a finger on until recently...

He's sort of like Solomon in that he acts on his own agenda and will tell no one about what he's up to. I don’t think Simeon feels obligated to tell anyone the truth so long as he can get the result he feels is best out of a situation - and that includes the MC. I'd go out on a limb to say that's, frankly, not very angelic behavior.

As uncomfortable as the angel event was, it did give us some insight into how angels act through how the brothers changed and Lucifer - of all people - had a strong aversion to acting deceptively... Simeon on the other hand appears to employ deception with little external strife over the matter. For an angel, he's not the most angelic at times...

I suspect if he were falling, it didn't start at the Devildom but earlier than that. Likely during the War and after he lost Lucifer. They were actually surprisingly close friends in the Celestial Realm (this is canon) and I can see a lot of angels who still saw our demon boys as brothers getting real bitter about their fate... If there were ever a time to get cynical, it's when your friend gets thrown to eternal damnation for what amounts to caring about his family...

I think it's important to also point out that Diavolo doesn't like nor trust Simeon (at least according to official material I've seen), so whatever would cause that kind of mistrust must pre-date the events of the game as we see them. Or it's just the vibe coming off of him, which doesn't help his case at all...

2. Something about Celestial Realm/Michael's influence is messing with him...

The introduction of the bangles is really a game changer lore-wise, but we can't get too carried away with trying to shove them into the story proper. The Events timeline/continuity is still different than the main story and though they both work within the same canon, we can’t just mesh the two without strong evidence available to do so.

First and foremost, I don’t think the bangles were always used as some kind of behavioral control device in the Celestial Realm - at least not when the brothers were still around. I'm certain they would recognized them if that had been the case. So they'd have to be a new development...

IF Simeon is wearing them, or some kind of similar device (and that is an IF. I'm unaware if we ever get a confirmation on that) then it may be reasonable to assume that his actions are being influenced in some way... but that's only if you accept that the bangles are some kind of Michael-approved standard in Heaven, which I'm less certain of than other people...

I mentioned before that I didn’t exactly trust Simeon when he said that Michael gave him those bangles and, quite frankly, I still don't. We've already seen him acting on Michael's "behalf" when that wasn't the case at all during the Ring incident. And again, Simeon is not opposed to lying if he gets him his best outcome.

As far as I'm concerned, all of his mentions of Michael's wishes/intentions should be treated as suspect after that point. It’s entirely possible he could have enchanted those bangles himself in an attempt to quell the brothers' more troublesome impulses and make the party he was set to oversee go well. We've seen multiple times during TSL events that he can be quite the perfectionist if his name is attached... I wouldn't put it past him is all I'm saying.

I also don't think he and Luke are in the human world right now for the reason they say they are (that's pretty blatant), but they may not even be there with Michael's permission at all. Simeon could have just lied to Luke about it because he wanted to see MC again and knew Luke raise an alarm if he left on his own... It's highly suspect is all I'm saying.

3. There's literally nothing wrong with him, this is just a side of we've never gotten to see before.

And then there’s the less fun and probably more troubling theory... That we just didn't know Simeon like we thought we did. The new attention on the (Un)Dateables pretty much means anything could come to light about their characters now. They need a lot of fleshing out, so we should probably be prepared to find out new things that go against our previous assumptions all the time...

It's an unfortunate truth that when a side character starts getting more screentime, they may begin to develop into something different than the fandom saw them previously. That's just not in our hands. Maybe there is no conspiracy or "something wrong with Simeon" and he was just never the pure cinnamon roll we wanted him to be? We can't make any judgements as of yet, but I think that's important to keep in mind.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me asks #obey me theories #obey me simeon #obey me analysis

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erosofthepen · 3 years

Text

Letters From Amad part. 1

Hehe, I started writing this and was going to originally end it at 3,500 words, but then I realized that the plot was super boring and dry and changed some things... I’m at 6,000 words overall so far so I split it into two parts. I hope you enjoy it.

Words: 3713

Paring: Fili x reader

Warnings: none

Tags: (these are people who just said they’d be interested i guess): @grunid, @elvish-sky, @amelia307, @moony-artnstuff, @sassyscribbler, @fizzyxcustard

The battle was won, the mountain kept safe, and the gold preserved.

Not that anyone was too worried about the gold anymore. No, Thorin had recovered well from the sickness, given the Lake-men what had been promised, and had returned the white gems of starlight to King Thranduil. Yes indeed, everything had turned out fine in the end.

More than fine for you.

The second the orcs had fled the battlefield, Fili, that beautiful lion of a dwarf took your hand, pressed a kiss to each knuckle, and asked for you to marry him. The answer couldn’t have been anything but yes.

So there you were, five months after the Battle, eating dinner with the line of Durin and talking of the wedding ceremony to come. Thorin was especially particular and picky about all the odds and ends of the event, especially since it would be the first royal wedding in Erebor in centuries. So, as he rambled on about the colors of gems and fabrics, Fili held your hand in his. At the beginning of dinner, both you and he knew that Thorin would keep you for an hour at least, talking about preparations.

It’s not as if you didn’t enjoy talking and planning your future wedding, it’s just that the actual ceremony was an entire year and a half away. Dwarrow are notorious for their long engagement period. With the event so far off, you’d just rather devote your time to being with Fili, for once not worrying about wargs or orcs or goblins or evil. Fortunately, you were saved from the conversation by Balin.

“Letters from the Blue Mountains, Thorin!” he said cheerfully, entering the room with a jolly bounce. He placed the letters in front of the mountain king before stealing a biscuit and leaving. Thorin nodded thanks, and examined the seals, a broad grin splitting his face.

“From your Amad, Lads.” Kili, who had been playing with the food on his plate, snapped into attention with wide, excited eyes.

“From Amad?!”

“Aye, here’s yours,” Thorin handed an envelope with a dark blue seal to Kili, and the young prince tore it open rapidly, reading it hungrily. Thorin then handed a letter with a matching seal to Fili, and your husband-to-be released his grip on your hand, opening his letter with the same urgency his brother had.

It was just slightly awkward for you, with each dwarrow at the table reading their respective letters, but you occupied yourself with your stew, occasionally glancing up to watch Fili’s eyes as he read. His beautiful blue eyes displayed excitement, then delight, and towards the end, longing. You had always known Fili was a mama’s boy (Or amad’s boy, in this case), and you also knew that he missed her dearly.

“She’s supposed to be leaving to come here in May!” Kili exclaimed, finishing his letter before his brother and uncle.

“Aye, next month,” Fili agreed, a smile lighting up his features. “How long do you reckon it will take for her arrival?”

“Six months, I would guess,” Thorin replied, mentally re-accounting your own journey, “Seven maybe. She’ll be with a caravan, remember. It’ll take some time for a group that size to get ore’ the Misty Mountains.”

Kili sighed, his shoulders slumping. “That’s much too long to wait.” Fili nodded in agreement at his brother's words.

“It’ll have been twenty months since we’ve seen her. A year and two-thirds.”

“Don’t worry lads, you’ll see her soon enough,” Thorin said, looking over his letter once more. “But in the meantime, I suggest you write back.” Kili scooted out of his chair, rushing out of the room with his letter clutched tightly in hand. Fili got up to follow, but then doubled back, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“I’ll come to wish you good night,” He promised.

“I’ll expect you,” You replied. He grinned and headed out after his brother.

“So (Y/N),” Thorin began, with a tone that made you inwardly groan, “What type of cut do you think the gems on your marriage robes should have?” You suspected that you might not be back in your room in time for Fili to wish you good night.

Three months had passed since the letters had come from Lady Dís, and the mountain was busy with preparations for the arrival of a hundred and fifty or so dwarrow. It would be the first caravan of many to come.

With the attention of the kingdom now focused on the arrival of the caravan, it proved to be quite the relief to you and Fili. More of Thorin’s focus was on planning for the newcomers, and not combing over details of your wedding ceremony, which meant more time for you and Fili to enjoy yourselves. It also brought on some tasks in which Fili and Kili accomplished together.

The brothers had prepared a room for their mother in the royal wing, and had furnished and decorated it to perfection. All the furniture was made of dark walnut wood, and the rugs and drapings were dark blue in color, made from the finest fabrics that could be found. They had also set about commissioning dressmakers and robemakers to complete a new wardrobe for Dís, even though Fili knew that Dís would prefer to sew her own clothes. Still, the act showed the brother’s devotion to their Amad.

When Fili was occupied with preparing these sorts of things, or otherwise completing his royal duties, you would more often than not find yourself in the library. There were several libraries in Erebor, with the mountain being so huge, and only one of the libraries was cleaned and in use. This particular library was known as the Grand Library, and only twenty or so dwarrow were ever in it at once, so it was lovely and quiet. It was probably your favorite spot in the mountain, especially when it grew chill, as it held an incredibly large fireplace with an assortment of couches and cushions in front of it.

This was exactly where you could be found that day, and it was quite curious to see Fili rushing towards you, a smile on his face and a letter in his hand.

“Amad wrote back, and she sent a letter for you as well!” he said, sitting beside you and handing you an envelope with the dark blue seal of Dís.

“She sent one for me?”

“Aye.”

“Why? She doesn’t even know me,” you replied, staring at the slightly crinkled parchment. Fili cleared his throat,

“...I may or may not have written a lengthy description of you in my letter to her.” Well, his statement shouldn’t have surprised you. Of course Fili would have told his mother about the person he planned to marry. But for some reason, the fact that Dís knew about you made you nervous. Fili interrupted your thoughts. “Well, are you going to open it?”

You gave him a small smile before carefully breaking the seal and lifting the letter out of its envelope. As your eyes scanned the page, you noticed that while Dís’s hand was rough, it was still tidy. The letter read:

“(Y/N),

I am not exactly sure how I should feel about you. My son left me without any desire of ever forming a relationship, yet he wrote to me that he has found his One. He speaks incredibly highly of you, and his description was indeed full of love.

However, do not think I am convinced of your relationship. My sons are precious to me beyond any riches, and I will not tolerate or allow anyone whom I do not approve of to wed either of them. If you truly love Fili, you must prove your love to me. Otherwise, I suggest you abandon any thought of a future with him and leave Erebor immediately.

~Lady Dís, Thrainsdottir.”

If you had been nervous about Dís before, now you were a bit terrified. You realized that, if she was not satisfied with you, Dís could very easily break off your engagement and ensure that you never saw Fili again. The thought was enough to scare you even more than running straight into a battalion of orcs. The dwarf prince himself had been reading over your shoulder, and once you had finished reading, he took your hand in his and squeezed it tight.

“She’s… Well Amad’s just a bit overprotective. She’ll love you once you meet, I know it. Don’t worry yourself over it ghivashel.”

But you did worry over it. You worried over it throughout the rest of your time in the library, all throughout dinner, and when you eventually slipped into bed. After a few hours of uneasily trying to fall asleep, you came to terms that you could at least address your worries if you wrote back.

“Lady Dís,

I was surprised to receive your letter, as I hadn’t thought that Fili would have written of me. I understand that you don’t yet approve of me, and I think that, if our places were swapped, I probably wouldn’t approve of me either. But I do love Fili, with every single part of my being. He is my world now. It’s actually fairly remarkable to acknowledge that, since before the quest, I hadn’t even known of his existence. But I truly do love him, and would do anything to ensure his happiness and well-being.

I hope you can grow to like me, or tolerate me at least.

Sincerely,

(Y/N)”

In the months following that letter, the worry inside of you didn’t subside. Fili could tell that it was on your mind, and he tried his best to sooth your nervousness, but it didn’t help very much. Much of your time was spent in the comfort of the Grand Library, which seemed to become more in use by the common folk with every passing day. You were seriously considering trying to start cleaning out one of the smaller libraries, just so it would be a bit quieter. Apparently, the rules of a silent library did not apply to dwarrows.

One day, you were sitting in the least used corner of the Grand Library, reading a book about dwarrow folklore, when you were interrupted by an exasperated sigh.

“Good Mahal, I finally found you! Why the hell were you all the way over here? You do know there’s plenty of space near the entrance, right?”

“Yes, but it’s not nice and quiet there. In normal libraries, there’s rules set in place for silence.” You replied, rolling your eyes at the young prince Kili.

“Sounds boring.” He said, plopping down next to you. “Anyways, my Amad sent another letter for you.” He brought out an envelope and you took it and set it aside. “You’re not going to open it?” He asked.

“I am, just not right now.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

“I think you should open it.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

You and Kili held some sort of bizarre staring contest, until you decided that Kili would at least be off your back if you opened it now. The letter read:

“(Y/N),

It brought me a small comfort to have read of your love for Fili, but it did not satisfy my doubts. Fili has told me much of your history and past, and you indeed seem like quite the character. However, I know my son would have put you on a pedestal to try and convince me of you, so I decided to rely on information about you from a much more honest source. That being my son Kili and my brother Thorin.

Thorin believes you to be an honest lass, with loyalty to match, and he told me he is very sure that you and Fili are the perfect match. My brother is not one to sugar-coat anything, and he is probably the most thickheaded dwarrow in the world when it comes to recognizing romantic love, so his assurances lessened my doubts. Kili on the other hand, told quite a different story.

Kili has told me that you are irritable, witty, incredibly thoughtful, and usually annoyed with him a vast majority of the time. He wrote about a few events during the journey that made me laugh quite a lot. I wholeheartedly support you and his decision to put a toad in Thorin's boot. That was brilliant. However, do not mistake this for approval of you, but know that my initial opinion on you has changed towards the better. My distrust of you has eased.

From,

Lady Dís”

When you finished reading, you turned to face Kili. A boyish grin had split his face.

“I can’t believe you told her about the toad incident.” You said.

“Oh, I told her about plenty more of our mischief as well. I already read her reply to me, she especially liked the one where we put a snakeskin in Fili’s sleeping role.” You couldn’t help but laugh as you remembered that night. That was probably the only time you had really seen Fili freak out. He had thrown the snakeskin as far away from him as possible, before taking his boot axes and chucking them at it. The snakeskin had been shredded, and you and Kili laughed for a good long while.

“I nearly forgot about that one, what fun that was!”

“Aye. I mentioned it to Fili today and he turned as red as a tomato, it was fucking hilarious!”

You and Kili spent the rest of the afternoon recounting your wrongdoings and pranks from the journey, only leaving when you grew hungry. After dinner, you wrote Dís back.

“Lady Dís,

I’m glad you approved of the Toad Incident, honestly one of my finer moments. Thorin had his head in his arse all day, and Kili and I were tired of it. He completely ignored Gandalf’s advice for the third time in a row. I mean, he’s a terrific leader and has the support of all who follow him, but… sometimes I think someone else should have been making the decisions, as most of his decisions ended up with us being in trouble. But that’s all in the past, I suppose. He’s leading Erebor to prosperity once more.

As for what Kili told you of me, I can’t say that he’s wrong. I do get annoyed with him much of the time. And very irritated at him. But he’s one of my closest friends, so I guess it balances out. He was reading your letter over my shoulder, and we ended up discussing all our tricks on the company afterwards. We both agree that we shall have to continue them now that we live in Erebor. We were thinking that putting cumin instead of cinnamon in a cinnamon bun would be a lovely surprise for someone.

I’m very glad that your opinion has changed on me. It’s a bit of a relief, though I know that you do not approve of me yet. I hope your journey is going well, and that you are alright.

Sincerely,

(Y/N)”

In the weeks that followed, you were much more relaxed. The day that the caravan would arrive seemed much less daunting now that Dís appeared less cold towards you. Preparations for the day were in full swing, and about a hundred new rooms and halls had been cleared out and cleaned, as well as the start of cleaning out another library. It was called the Silver Library, and when you first saw it, you were amazed. Even in its abandoned state, it was breathtaking. The marble walls were a lovely rich blue, a nice change from green, and the shelves and tables were inlaid with silver. It was a long walk towards the north side of the mountain, but ever so worth it. Your days were now focused on clearing out the dust, alongside with a handful of scholars and writers.

The work was long and hard, but at least it was a great deal smaller than the Grand Library. The writers told you that this would be the best library to find peace, as the books here were all about history. The Grand Library hosted books from metal-working to children’s tales, hence why every sort of dwarrow could be found there. The Silver Library was a place for dedicated learners who appreciated the quiet now and again. Perfect.

Four weeks after the work had begun, it was looking nearly finished. You had spent the entire afternoon scrubbing a row of shelves, and unfortunately getting dust all in your system. A bath and bed were most welcome when night came ‘round.

After washing up, you found another letter had been placed upon your pillow, along with a note. The note was from Fili.

‘I missed you today, amrâlimê. My Amad sent another letter for you. Rest well.

-Fili’

The letter read:

“(Y/N),

We can both agree that Thorin is not the best decision maker. But there’s only so much one can do when he’s the first-born. And now I know not to trust your cooking. Or, at least I will force my brother to try it first, just to make sure it is safe for eating. I almost pity him now, that he had to put up with trouble from Fili, Kili, and yourself during the journey. But then again, he’s had it coming for a while.

The road to Erebor is long and rough, but nothing that I cannot handle. I’ve done it before, as a child no less, and I can sure as hell do it again. Hopefully though, it shall be the last one I shall have to do. We are almost half-way around Mirkwood now, another month and a half and I will be able to see you in person. I look forward to meeting you.

-Dís.”

Before retiring to sleep, you picked up your quill to write to Dís for the third time.

“Lady Dís,

I am happy your journey is going well, and that you are nearly here. I am really excited to meet you. Fili hasn’t stopped talking about you for the past week. He says that you’ll be here in four weeks or so. The weather is getting much colder, and the Lake-men in Dale say that the winds aren’t promising. Keep safe and warm, and I wish you the best for the rest of your travels!

Sincerely,

-(Y/N)”

No more than two weeks later, you received her reply.

“(Y/N),

I should think this will be my last letter before meeting you in person. I have been able to see the mountain for the last few weeks and it makes my heart warm to know I am close. I am not worried about the cold, the elders agree that the snow will not fall hard for sometime.

We plan to arrive on November the Nineteenth.

From,

Dís”

Every dwarrow in the mountain was bustling with energy now that the caravan was only a week away. Fili and Kili were beyond excited, dragging you to the secret door to see if you could spot the caravan in the distance. It was just visible, a tiny spot by the forest that had many ant-sized dwarrow moving about.

For the next five days, Fili and Kili would find time to come up the platform with you in tow, seeing how much closer the caravan got. On the sixth day, the dwarrow had stopped roughly in between Laketown and Dale.

“I don’t like the look of those clouds,” Fili commented, his blue eyes turned grey to reflect the sky.

“Mean neither. But they’ll clear tham in time,” Kili replied, hands fidgeting with his talisman.

“Hopefully.”

The next morning, you woke to find a note on your dresser.

‘(Y/N),

Kili and I went to the caravan, our patience to see our Amad has worn thin. Don’t worry, we’ll be back by tonight.

All my love,

Fili.’

Well, you hoped they were having a good time. It wasn’t until you had made your way out of your chambers, bundled up warm, that you heard the news.

“Did ye hear? More than a meter deep!”

“Oh aye, fresh powder, as far as the eyes can see, and still falling!”

“One has to wonder how the caravan will fare. There’s wee ones traveling.”

“And old ones.”

With every word the dwarrow spoke, you felt your heart sink even further. Your pace picked up and soon you were running to the dining hall.

Thorin, Dwalin, and Balin were all discussing the caravan when you entered the hall.

“We’ll have to send out help to hurry them along,” the King said, “We’ll wait for a break in the snow and send out a group.”

“We should probably have ponies ready for the children and elders, they won’t be up for trekking through the snow.” Balin said.

Thorin nodded before noticing you hurrying towards them.

“Ah, (Y/N). Where are the Lads?”

“I was just coming to see you about that, Fili left a note this morning.”

Thorin raised an eyebrow.

“Well?”

“They went to the caravan.”

Thorin groaned and pinched his nose. Dwalin spoke up.

“The night watch said that two dwarrow in hoods went out last night. About three hours before the snow started up.”

“Mahal damn them!” Thorin cursed, “The two should know better!”

“I’m sure they’re fine Thorin,” Balin replied, “They can travel quickly.”

“Not quickly enough to make it halfway to Laketown during a blizzard!”

“We can send out a search party,” Dwalin said.

“No, we can’t risk any more dwarrow getting stuck out there. When the snow breaks we’ll go out and look for them. And send help to the caravan.”

You were ready to shout at them. If Fili and Kili were out in the blizzard, they could need help. Even if dwarrow’s blood ran hot, it didn’t run hot enough to keep warm in a blizzard for hours on end. Balin seemed to notice your anguish and smiled in your direction.

“Fili will be alright lass, we’ll find him as soon as the storm breaks.”

You blinked and shot a glare at Thorin before turning away and leaving.

“What did I do?” You heard him ask before exiting.

“Only Mahal knows.” Dwalin replied.

#fili x reader #fili fanfic #the hobbit #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit fanfic #thorin #fili #kili #Dís #balin #dwalin #fili/reader #durin boys

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

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Delight in Misery (ao3) - part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5

- Chapter 6 -

It was strange, Lan Wangji reflected, to be in public again after so long an absence. Stranger still to be addressed by strangers, to be called the Second Jade of Lan, or Lan-er-gongzi –

He wished that they would use his personal title instead. It might reduce the awkwardness.

Though, he reflected, it was likely that nothing would really reduce the awkwardness inherent in the situation, for all its old nostalgic familiarity: his brother walking in the lead, he and his uncle one step behind him, the representatives of the Lan sect in all their glory, beauty, and righteousness.

Looking at their tranquil expressions and sedate pace, one would never know that Lan Qiren was still furiously angry at Lan Wangji for his decision to abandon his sect and family, now made several times over; that Lan Wangji had been shockingly disrespectful by Lan standards in his response; that Lan Xichen had ordered that neither of them were permitted to speak until they could behave civilly (he’d used the term “like human beings”) once again.

It had been a very quiet journey to Koi Tower.

Luckily, even once they arrived, their customary reserve meant that no one noticed the tensions between them – not even the normally astute Lianfeng-zun, who greeted them at the door, much less his father and brother, and certainly not Chifeng-zun, who was listening to another sect leader speak with the stiff and stern expression that, after several years of keeping company with Jiang Cheng, Lan Wangji now recognized as please stop talking to me.

(Lan Wangji briefly considered that he ought to suggest that Jiang Cheng spend more time with Chifeng-zun. They shared a history as young men who assumed control over their sects too soon as a result of the same enemy, and he knew Jiang Cheng highly esteemed Chifeng-zun – but then he rejected the idea as unnecessary and likely full of potential political pitfalls, especially given the Jiang sect’s role in the Jin sect’s current one-sided rivalry with the Nie sect.

As the Second Jade of Lan, he didn’t need to worry about political concerns, or at least not those beyond the basic premise of ‘don’t lose face for the sect’. His uncle and brother handled everything of that nature, just as they always had, holding up the sky for him and allowing him to focus on cultivation and his own interests, only he had been Jiang Cheng’s secret sounding board for too long now to fail to think of the potential problems anyway.

He found to his surprise that he missed it.)

Jiang Cheng would have noticed the tension, but he had yet to arrive – they had agreed that it would make everything easier if he would arrive to the gathering a little late, minimizing the amount of chatter they would need to endure about the two of them before the formal events began.

This would be Lan Wangji’s first discussion conference after having “left seclusion”, as people were calling it – his uncle with notably more sarcasm than usual – and the first test of his new public relationship with Jiang Cheng. They’d settled the public fight aspect with some degree of enjoyment, having a spar that extended throughout the rooftops and alleyways of the Lotus Pier, matching Bichen again Sandu and Wangji against Zidian, and the rumors had run wild ever since then. Finally, Jin Guangyao had intervened in his father’s name to “force” the compromise they’d all agreed upon: that Lan Sizhui would fall under Lan Wangji’s personal supervision, as was his right as the (assumed) father, but that he would remain at the Lotus Pier for most of the year to avoid a sudden and traumatic readjustment.

That this coincidentally would result in Lan Wangji spending most of his time at the Lotus Pier had largely passed unnoticed. Most people were far, far too busy gossiping about Lan Wangji’s mysterious Jiang sect wife, each one adding new salacious details atop the other. Some of the nonsense he’d heard…!

At least, he comforted himself, none of them would be rude enough to actually ask him about it directly.

“Lan-er-gongzi!” a voice called, and Lan Wangji would have stiffened if his back hadn’t already been straighter than a board. His uncle coughed and stroked his beard to conceal his expression of amusement – he probably thought that having to deal with Nie Huaisang, inveterate gossip and useless person extraordinaire, was exactly what Lan Wangji deserved.

He was probably right, too. Lan Wangji had brought this on his own head.

“Nie-gongzi,” he said, very reluctantly, as the Second Young Master of Qinghe Nie showed up with a feckless smile, promptly clutching at his arm and insisting that they go catch up and indulge in nostalgia about their shared school days.

Which ones, Lan Wangji wasn’t sure – Nie Huaisang had attended his uncle’s classes three times over before passing, and whether or not that final pass had been fairly earned or whether his uncle had simply yielded to his desire never to see Nie Huaisang’s face in his classroom ever again, Lan Wangji remained unsure.

Still, it suited him not to be forced to make nice with all those sect leaders pretending that they weren’t gawking at him, and so he permitted Nie Huaisang to drag him off to some unoccupied garden he had somehow managed to uncover, the other man chattering in his ear like a magpie the entire time.

“ – supposed I really should call you Hanguang-jun now, but that just seems so formal, though at least I remember it. I barely remember anyone’s title. Though now that my big brother’s sworn brotherhood with your big brother, I could probably just get away with calling you Wangji-gege –”

“No.”

“You’re so mean!” Nie Huaisang wailed. “Aren’t we old friends?”

“No.”

“Well, we’re close enough to count, anyway,” Nie Huaisang said. “Jiang Cheng’s my friend as well, you know; you can’t keep him to yourself just because you’re angry at your family! That’s just selfish. Aren’t there Lan sect rules against being selfish? I assume so, though I admit I’ve forgotten more of them than I’ve learned…don’t tell your uncle that, I’m afraid he’ll revoke my sympathy pass.”

Lan Wangji reflected briefly that it was good that Nie Huaisang was self-aware enough to recognize that the pass mark had likely been given out of sympathy rather than for merit, but then returned to the more critical point of what Nie Huaisang had said.

“Why do you think I’m angry at my family?” he asked. And what was that about Jiang Cheng?

It was critical that Sect Leader Jin, among others, not suspect that Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng shared a closer relationship than apparent – even Jin Guangyao had agreed with that – and if they had been sussed out so quickly, and by Nie Huaisang…

Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes at him. “You may be an unreadable stone wall, my – er, acquaintance, but do you really think I can’t tell when your uncle is upset? Me, of all people?”

This was a good point.

“And if your uncle’s upset at you, again, of all people, and you haven’t apologized or made up to him yet, that means you’re the one that’s angry,” Nie Huaisang concluded. “And anyway, why else would you agree to stay for so long at the Lotus Pier if you weren’t angry? You and Jiang Cheng must drive each other up the walls.”

Lan Wangji relaxed minutely. That was a reasonable explanation.

A moment later, he tensed up again – he was abruptly convinced, albeit without any logical basis, that the explanation was too reasonable, meant to put him at ease, designed to allow him to move on with the conversation without thinking too much or questioning too deeply. No one else had put the facts together the way Nie Huaisang had, and, most notably, Nie Huaisang hadn’t yet asked a single question about Lan Sizhui, who was, without making an appearance, the main subject matter of the day.

But then, a moment after that, he relaxed again, somewhat unwillingly – this was Nie Huaisang, who’d been born useless, grown up useless, and remained useless. It was a little absurd to suspect him of having figured out something that had duped the entire rest of the cultivation world.

As Nie Huaisang said – of all people…

“What do you want?” he asked, shaking his head a little to try to clear it. It must be the oppressive atmosphere of Koi Tower, gilded and rotten, that was affecting his thoughts.

“What do I always want?” Nie Huaisang asked philosophically, and then helpfully answered his own question: “Attention.”

Lan Wangji was starting to remember why he’d avoided Nie Huaisang so thoroughly in their youth.

“I’m not telling you anything about Sizhui,” he said.

Nie Huaisang pouted at him. He was still clinging to Lan Wangji’s arm, and Lan Wangji wondered whether it would count as ‘losing the sect face’ if he threw him out a window.

(He wished Jiang Cheng were around so that he could mention the thought to him - he suspected it would make the other man turn purple with suppressed laughter, and probably get some sort of comment about it being the only sort of flying Nie Huaisang could manage, with or without a blade.)

“Fine,” Nie Huaisang said sulkily. “Turns out you’re still no fun, even after all these years. I’ll have you know, Jiang Cheng’s a lot nicer than you. He appreciates all the things I bring to the table.”

Lan Wangji seriously doubted it – unless perhaps if Nie Huaisang was speaking literally, referring to fine foods and liquor – but his mood improved a bit nonetheless at the compliment. Given the Jiang sect’s relatively isolated political position, with all the smaller sects looking at it hungrily, just waiting for it to trip up and give them a chance to snatch away the title of being the fourth Great Sect, it was only good that the second young master of Qinghe Nie had a positive impression of the ever-prickly Jiang Cheng.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Nie Huaisang said, and dug something out of his sleeve. “Give this back to er-ge for me, will you?”

Lan Wangji stared blankly. “His passage token for Koi Tower?”

He had planned to ask his brother later if he could borrow it – perhaps not that night, since it was the first day of the discussion conference and he suspected his brother would want to visit with his sworn brothers, but in the next day or two. That was the only reason he had agreed to go to Koi Tower at all, agreed to visit Lanling at all: so that he might try to steal away at some opportune moment to visit Mo Xuanyu unattended, before anyone noticed where he’d gone, and talk to him about the request for safe harbor that he had made of Jiang Cheng.

Lan Wangji had still been thinking over how he would phrase the request for the token without giving away his suspicions of the boy’s mistreatment, which his brother would likely take as a slight against Jin Guangyao even though it was fairly obvious to everyone that Sect Leader Jin was keeping Mo Xuanyu as a weapon against Jin Guangyao. He hadn’t yet managed to think of a way to do it.

And now – how had the token ended up here, in Nie Huaisang’s hands?

“Well, yes,” Nie Huaisang said. “I wanted to talk to you privately, without everyone eavesdropping, so I asked him for it. Da-ge never lets me use his, he says I’m a menace to both people and property, and for some reason san-ge never lets me take his. Probably because he’s always so busy all the time.”

That sounded – very much like all three of them, in fact. Nie Mingjue, bluntly refusing; Jin Guangyao, politely eliding; his brother, yielding in utter capitulation to the first bit of begging, confident enough in his own righteous reputation to not worry about the consequences…

An idea appeared in Lan Wangji’s mind.

It was not the sort of idea that might naturally come to a member of the Lan sect. Perhaps his uncle was right in saying that he’d been lingering at the Lotus Pier for too long.

“Nie-gongzi,” Lan Wangji said, looking at the token. “You are right.”

“I…what?” Nie Huaisang frowned. “Are you getting sick, Lan-er-gongzi? I’m never right.”

“I am angry at my family,” Lan Wangji continued, deciding to ignore him. He did not specify why he was angry – let Nie Huaisang assume, as everyone else assumed, that it was because they had not retrieved Lan Sizhui earlier, and for sticking him with the ‘compromise’ of having to stay at the Lotus Pier, no matter how far that was from the truth. “I have not had the opportunity to vent my feelings.”

Nie Huaisang blinked at him. “You…vent feelings?” he said, sounding doubtful, but a moment later he brightened, as Lan Wangji had expected he would. “We could play a prank on somebody! That always makes me feel better – something petty and ridiculous, so that they won’t get really angry, but still know that you’re upset.”

Lan Wangji nodded.

Nie Huaisang appeared somewhat dazed by his agreement. “We could do so many things,” he marveled. “I mean, the possibilities are countless. We could throw paint at something, we could put water on top of a door, we could…”

“I do not want to be publicly associated with it,” Lan Wangji said.

Nie Huaisang pouted, but tapped his fan against his cheek, thinking. “That makes things harder, but not impossible, I suppose…oh, I know! Why don’t we pretend that you’re your brother? You two look like peas in a pod, but for the color of your eyes and your expressions – if I’m hanging around and calling you er-ge and no one looks too closely, they would have no idea it was you involved.”

That was precisely the idea Lan Wangji had hit upon, and the one that he had hoped to lead Nie Huaisang towards suggesting. He had gotten to the point much quicker than Lan Wangji had thought he would; it seemed, useless as he might be, Nie Huaisang was still apparently capable of accepting at least some guidance.

(Unless perhaps...but no. It was Nie Huaisang.)

“This evening?” he suggested, and Nie Huaisang nodded.

“That’ll give me time to think of a proper prank,” he said happily. It was as if he’d never encountered a care in his life, Sunshot Campaign or no. “Don’t you worry, Wangji-gege! Leave it all to me!”

Lan Wangji returned to the main hall, the token tucked into his sleeve, and said nothing when his older brother smiled at him, faintly apologetic, nor when his uncle turned his face away from him. By that point, Jiang Cheng had arrived, scowling as usual, and he was mingling, speaking with the smaller sect leaders with a stiff and stern expression that said please don’t talk to me – Lan Wangji really would have to see about convincing him to invite Chifeng-zun to the Lotus Pier, politics or no politics – and he and Lan Wangji stared at each other briefly before turning away from each other, whispers sprouting up around them like grass.

Why must we put up with people? Jiang Cheng’s expression eloquently conveyed, and Lan Wangji didn’t disagree in the slightest. Life was so much easier in his little room back at the Lotus Pier, where he could shut the door and not let in the world – sometimes he wondered if all of this was really worth it.

Later that evening, he was reminded that it was.

Mo Xuanyu had been invited to the opening ceremonies, sitting in the main row with the important people of the Jin sect – directly beside Jin Guangyao, as if everyone didn’t know his purpose already – but he hadn’t spoken at all, keeping his face down and demeanor as withdrawn as possible. Sect Leader Jin had found an opportunity to praise him for his humility and obedience, and even Lan Wangji, who did not like Jin Guangyao, was indignant on the man’s behalf in the face of such obvious humiliation.

Etiquette dictated that no one could intervene in another man’s family affairs, but Chifeng-zun had rather loudly remarked to Lan Xichen – as if only just remembering – that it must be good to have his brother (subtext: notable for being humble and obedient) out of seclusion at last, inquiring as to whether Lan Wangji was planning on attending any night-hunts in the near future and, if so, whether he would be bringing his son, for whom he cared so deeply, along.

Lan Wangji was accustomed to being the other person’s child, held up as a positive comparison to the annoyance of the person being compared, and it took Jiang Cheng’s eyes crinkling with barely concealed laughter for him to realize that the person he was being compared favorably against this time was Jin Guangshan, absent father extraordinaire, and not poor Mo Xuanyu.

Later, when his brother slipped away to meet with his sworn brothers, as Lan Wangji expected, and Jiang Cheng was gone reluctantly to take Jin Ling to visit with his grandfather, Lan Wangji headed out with Nie Huaisang, who had come up with some prank involving feathers and glue that Lan Wangji wanted nothing to do with.

“But it would be funny,” Nie Huaisang argued.

Lan Wangji blamed Jiang Cheng for the fact that he even considered it.

“We can simply walk around in the guise we agreed,” he finally said, banishing that unhelpful part of him that loved chaos a little too much – the Wei Wuxian part, perhaps. “That will be confusing enough.”

“Oh, all right,” Nie Huaisang said. “But the feathers are hidden in the linen closet off the main guest hallway if you change your mind.”

With Nie Huaisang complaisant, it was easy enough to gradually make their way through Koi Tower, seeming to stroll without any apparent goal but in fact edging closer to Lan Wangji’s destination: the Jin family quarters.

“Wangji-gege – oops, I mean, er-ge,” Nie Huaisang said after he had exhausted at least three other pointless topics. “Why don’t you trust me?”

Lan Wangji looked at him, surprised by the question.

Nie Huaisang was pouting. “You clearly have a goal,” he said. “I know I’m not much, you know, but I’m not nothing. I could still help. If you wanted.”

Lan Wangji opened his mouth to refuse on instinct – the idea that Nie Huaisang could be helpful to him in any way seemed utterly absurd, utterly impossible – but then he paused.

Attempt the impossible, he reminded himself. After all, was it really so long ago that he himself had done what he had never dreamt he could do and chosen to leave his sect behind?

For a life at the Lotus Pier with Jiang Cheng, no less?

Maybe even Nie Huaisang could overturn expectations.

“I want to speak with Mo Xuanyu,” he finally said. “And, if he is unhappy, remove him from Koi Tower. Is that something in which you think you can assist me?”

Nie Huaisang blinked at him, just once – he did not appear nearly as surprised by the request as Lan Wangji thought he probably should be – and then smiled.

#mdzs #lan wangji #jiang cheng #nie huaisang #my fic #my fics #delight in misery

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sixth-light · 3 years

Text

AU-of-an-AU marriage of (in)convenience related ficlet, inspired by @xwingace pointing out in beta that Nicky’s parents probably knew, and people in the comments asking what would have happened if [fic events] hadn’t happened as they did. No, it is not turning into a longer story (I will snippet from the other long thing I’m writing soon), but it was long enough to be worth sharing.

Joe’s two weeks in Genoa went almost exactly the way he’d predicted: lots of time in windowless rooms, lots of late nights writing up his notes before he forgot things, no revelations about Nicky’s family or whatever it was Nicky didn’t want him to know. The weather stayed good, not that it mattered much.

Nicky apologised again, on Joe’s second-to-last night, for the way he’d reacted to the news that Joe was going to Genoa for work.

“It’s just very…” he sighed. “I will explain when you get back. I promise.”

“It’s okay,” Joe said, lying on his back on the hotel bed, holding his phone over his face. “I’m holding you to that, but you apologised already. We’re good.”

Nicky smiled a little crookedly. “We’ll…see what you say.”

“If you feel the need to make it up to me…” Joe drew the moment out. “Any good restaurant recommendations? Nile and I have both reverted to room service but we want to do better on our last night here.”

“Uh.” Nicky blinked at him, clearly caught off-guard. “Not – you know, for the last few years I was studying in – nothing is coming to mind.”

Joe bit the inside of his cheek, not smiling too hard; he bet that Nicky’s problem was that everywhere he could think of was too fancy. In Malta four years ago, and over the last six months in Amsterdam, Nicky had taken a weird glee in eating street food or in hole-in-the-wall places that shouted, louder than words, that he hadn’t got to do that in whatever his younger life had been. Sometimes Joe considered the possibility that Nicky had just been locked in a closet or something, but he was way too well-adjusted and good with people for that. So it had to be the other option.

“Never mind,” he said.

“I’m sure I can think of another way,” Nicky said, with a matter-of-fact confidence that shouldn’t objectively be sexy but, because it was Nicky, very much was.

So Joe went to sleep that night in a much better mood, and retained it all the way up until next afternoon. He and Nile were stripping off their gloves and stretching out their cramped backs, more or less done, when a palace staffer he didn’t recognise appeared in the doorway and said “Come this way, please; the Princess would like to speak with you.”

“Uh, wow,” Nile said, eyes wide. “Right now?”

“Not you,” the woman said. It was almost polite except around the eyes. Joe and Nile both bristled. “Just Mr al-Kaysani.”

“Nile’s done just as much of the work,” Joe said at once. “In fact, if the Princess wants to talk about –”

“It’s not about the paintings,” said the staffer. Joe decided he didn’t like her. “It’s a family matter.”

Nile turned to Joe, her eyes, if anything, even wider. “Joe, you know what’s going on?”

“Nope,” Joe said, shrugging, although he had had a sudden wild idea involving Nicky being some sort of illegitimate royal offspring, which was romance-novel-level silly. Part of him thought he should say no, and give Nicky the chance to tell him whatever it was that he was probably going to learn. The other half was too curious. “Come and rescue me if I don’t text you in an hour or two?”

“You got it!” Nile said brightly, after a narrow-eyed beat. The staffer rolled her eyes, which told Joe that she didn’t know about Nile’s stint in the military; oh well, that was her problem.

Joe followed her upstairs and into what was clearly a personal part of the palace. It was very surreal. His job put him on the borders of this sort of thing quite often, but never directly into it like this. As he was shown into a room, he had a sudden flash of regret – maybe this was a bad idea – but it was too late.

The Princess was a white woman older than fifty but younger than seventy, indeterminate in the way the very wealthy usually were. Her pale hair wasn’t all grey, but it was getting there. Joe waited to follow her lead on how to greet her, painfully conscious that he hadn’t been given any pointers on etiquette, and she hesitated visibly before nodding to him. He decided not to read anything into that. Yet.

“Your highness,” he said. “I…was told you wanted to speak with me?”

“Please sit down, Mr al-Kaysani,” she said, gesturing to one of the couches, and Joe sat down and drank coffee with a princess, which was going to amuse his sisters, at least.

She asked him about the work he and Nile had been doing, and his job in general, and for a little while he entertained the idea that he was just an hour’s distraction for a woman who probably didn’t talk to anybody with a real job for more than a minute at a time, most days. Except that the staffer – who was still in the room, just lurking politely by the far window – had definitely said the word family.

“You grew up in the Netherlands, is that right?” the Princess said. “And your mother was in your Parliament, for a while.”

“That’s right,” Joe agreed. “I wasn’t born there, but all my sisters were. My mother was in Parliament while I was a teenager, but she’d had enough by the time I was at university.”

She nodded. “Being in the public eye has its toll.”

“Your highness,” Joe said, tired of circling things, “I don’t mean to be rude, but could you just…tell me what this is actually about?”

She paused, and put down her cup. “Your marriage, of course.”

“Yeah, uh, the thing is,” Joe said, feeling very guilty now because Nicky had promised – but also Nicky had had six months to tell him whatever it was. “I know Nicky –”

“Nicky?” she said, a little incredulously.

“My husband, Nicky. Nicolò. I know he’s from Genoa and I know there’s something he’s not telling me about his family, because he hasn’t told me anything about his family except that his brother lives in New York, but whatever it is, I think you know and I don’t. So – if you want to talk about it, you’re going to have to tell me.”

The Princess put her face in her hands and for a solid fifteen seconds Joe thought he’d made her cry, which had not been what he’d intended. He glanced at the staffer but she was looking determinedly out the window; Joe was on his own. He’d already opened his mouth when he realised the Princess was, in fact, laughing.

“This is,” she said finally, lowering her hands and sitting upright again, “not the conversation I was expecting to have.”

“Well, me either,” Joe said, having nothing else left.

“Let’s start again.” She smiled a quiet little smile that hit Joe between the eyebrows like a freight train, because he knew that smile very well. “Yusuf. Do you go by Yusuf?”

“Joe, mostly,” Joe said, his mouth dry. He picked up his cup, for something to do with his hands that wasn’t obviously a nervous reaction.

“Joe,” she said. “It’s a pleasure to meet my newest son-in-law.”

“Son-in – are you kidding,” Joe said, his fingers losing their grip, and promptly spilled coffee all over a very expensive carpet.

Joe held it together through the rest of that highly surreal conversation, and all the way back to the hotel, where he told Nile he just wasn’t feeling like going out to eat, and even all the way back to Amsterdam. He could precisely identify the point where he lost it. It was the point where he walked in the door and put down his bag, and went into the kitchen, and Nicky looked up from where he was sitting at the kitchen table reading – it smelled like food was in the oven – and smiled at him, wide and warm and unabashedly pleased to see him.

“Joe! You’re back.” He closed the book.

“So,” Joe said, levelly, folding his arms. “Prince Nicolò.”

Nicky put his head in his hands in a way that was so exactly like his mother it made Joe’s eye twitch. “Oh no.”

“Oh, yes,” Joe said, leaning against the door. “I had a very informative conversation with your mother.”

“With my mother?” Nicky said, looking up in sheer panic. For Nicky, anyway. He wasn’t much of a panicker.

“Princess Maria,” Joe said. “Lives in this palace, in Genoa, with her husband, who I haven’t yet had the privilege of meeting, if that makes you feel better –”

“I was going to explain,” Nicky said, very quickly.

Joe wanted to yell, and he wanted to turn around and walk out of the room, and he wanted to kiss his husband who he hadn’t seen for two weeks, and most of all he wanted to know how it was possible to be this mad at someone and still love them. Maybe it was only possible to be this mad at someone if you loved them. He was starting to suspect that was the case.

“Alright.” He unfolded his arms to gesture, one arm wide. “Go on, then. I’m listening.”

“Okay. So. So,” Nicky said. “The first thing is – wait, why were you even talking to my mother?”

“Because they’ve known you were married to me since it happened!”

Nicky winced. “Oh, shit.”

Joe sighed, and sat down at the table, leaning on his elbows. “I’m still listening.”

Nicky took his hand immediately. Joe narrowed his eyes. “That’s not going to help.”

“I haven’t seen you for two weeks,” said Nicky, and, fine, Joe was defenseless against that statement. “Alright. Where to begin?”

#my fanfic #the marriage of (in)convenience fic #joe x nicky

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thefirstknife · 3 years

Note

I keep seeing this brought up in your posts with o14 and just want to point this out: just because someone doesn’t know/say they’re being abused doesn’t mean they aren’t. I myself didn’t know the emotional/verbal abuse I endured until after the fact and this really makes me uncomfortable when you use that point. Please understand that it is very much a thing that happens to those (not all cause everyone is different) that are abused.

You’ve brought up an important point that I am very well aware of. I am glad you sent this ask in this way and I want to address why I don’t use it as an argument.

Under read more, warning for talk about abuse:

I specifically don’t want to entertain this part of the discourse because abuse is about power dynamics. The abuser is usually someone with more power over the other person and the abused is usually someone who cannot escape the situation due to that power imbalance. And the abused person often either doesn’t have the capacity to understand the power imbalance or isn’t capable of asking for help or escaping the situation because the abuser is in some way threatening them. It doesn’t have to be a direct and physical/vocal threat (though it often is), it can be implied, but the imbalance in power dynamics is essential to identify an abusive situation. This is why abuse always features an age imbalance, economic imbalance (employer-employee or a household where only one person works and has control over all the money), family imbalance (parent-child) and so on. The abuser is the one who must have power and control over the abused.

There is no such thing between Saint and Osiris. In no way are they ever presented as one being above the other. They are equals in every single way: age, experience, position within their respective jobs and so on. Saint does not fear Osiris, nor does Osiris have any power or control over him. Saint isn’t afraid of talking back to him and challenging him. Saint isn’t isolated from others and he isn’t afraid or incapable of asking for help (from YW, Ikora, Sagira previously...). For that reason, I cannot accept that there’s a possibility of Saint being abused but just not knowing about it. From all the available lore that I’ve poured through to compile all of the known and documented interactions between the two, there is no indication that Osiris holds any power or control over Saint in order for this relationship to be classified as abusive.

Some people said that Osiris is being abusive by “withholding emotions” from Saint, which can definitely a part of an abusive relationship. However, I do not believe that Osiris is withholding emotional availability; this argument only popped up after Sagira’s death and their bickering in the Hangar (where Sagira was mentioned). It is explained numerous times by many different characters that Osiris does not respond to grief well. Ikora knows it, Saint knows it. This is not an abusive trait per se, as one cannot really control how they handle that sort of extreme grief. One could even argue that Saint was the abusive one in this situation by bringing up Sagira before Osiris gave him permission and a green light that he’s okay with discussing it. Same thing happened when Crow brought it up. However, I will not claim that Saint or Crow are abusing Osiris because there’s no other evidence to it. The situation is complex and not just easily boiled down to abuse. As someone who has been through abusive situations, I believe it’s reductive to call one bump in the road as abuse. It makes it harder to recognise actual abuse, both for victims and onlookers.

Of course, maybe there’s something in the background that we don’t know about. After all, we don’t have every single Saint/Osiris interaction written out in the lore. However, considering what we do have and what we do know about these two characters, I can say for a fact that there is no power imbalance between them and Saint is not the type of a person who would sit back in fear of anyone and not know about being abused, definitely not by Osiris. There is simply no evidence. Of course, if someone just doesn’t vibe with the situation due to a personal experience and the whole Saint/Osiris argument that happened most recently in the lore is triggering for them, that is something I can respect. It’s personal, you can’t control what triggers your trauma. But that’s a personal experience, not an objective read on their relationship. People have been adamant about saying that the relationship is objectively abusive, which it is not. If it’s upsetting for personal reasons, I would absolutely recommend not interacting with the upsetting content and would implore people to tag their content appropriately.

In my original post from back a month ago or so, I specifically addressed how people tend to claim Osiris is abusive over Saint without backing it up with anything and essentially vilifying one of them (Osiris) while completely infantilising the other (Saint). It’s harmful to mlm, especially to mlm of colour because of how Osiris is treated by the community. It’s a reductive view of a long-term mlm relationship that spans centuries. The time span is quite literally incomprehensible.

People also never bring up Saint’s behaviour towards Osiris, such as pushing a sensitive topic in public and pressing him on it when he’s clearly not ready. These are also signs of abuse. Another sign of abuse are also threats of physical violence which Saint does in the Devil’s Ruin quest dialogue when he tells Osiris to “get off this line” to which Osiris responds with “make me” and then Saint quips with “you would not survive that.” Nobody brings that up as abuse. And they shouldn’t! It’s clear that this isn’t a serious threat. And it should be clear that one quarrel over a traumatic topic isn’t a sign of a toxic relationship. Saint also greets Shaxx with the line “I always hated you, brother” and then they both laugh. Saint is very clearly often joking in this way and people recognise it as not serious. Osiris should be given the same benefit of the doubt when he retreats into himself over indescribable grief; he’s not emotionally manipulating Saint, he is grieving in the only way he knows how.

I find it highly suspect that this whole discourse only started once the pairing was confirmed as canonical. People have been shipping them way before that and with way less information available and there’s never been any discourse about how Osiris is actually abusing Saint in this relationship. I just find it really suspicious that a mlm relationship featuring a man of colour gets labelled as abusive from the side of that man of colour specifically, only after we’ve received the information that it’s canon. It’s an incredibly common pattern in fandom spaces when a fandom favourite (in this case Saint) gets into a canon relationship with a character that’s easy to be prejudiced against. Even if that prejudice is unconscious, it’s still prejudice and it’s painfully obvious to anyone who has ever been in fandoms for as long as me (or longer). There are also literally scientific studies on this so I’m not just talking about my own experience.

Without any evidence of abuse and no imbalance in power dynamics present between these two characters, I can’t see how someone can come to a conclusion that Osiris abuses Saint after they’ve argued once “on screen,” especially after Saint himself explains what the situation is about. He eloquently puts his reasoning into words when Amanda asks him if there’s trouble and also promises to reach out for help if he needs it. I don’t like the trend of jumping to a conclusion, especially when people who do it are highly inconsistent about it (most recent one being the person who claims Osiris is abusive, but also claims that both Osiris and Saint are grown men who can handle themselves without our help; this is a contradictory statement, as Osiris cannot be abusive to Saint if Saint can handle himself and can just leave if he wants to).

I apologise if the discourse about this whole thing is making people uncomfortable. I should’ve addressed my reasoning behind it earlier, in order to make sure that everyone is on the same page. I should’ve also tagged it with a warning for talk of abuse, but no one else did and I didn’t think to correct it, which is definitely something I should’ve done. People started talking about how Osiris is abusive and toxic without thinking that people going into the tags might be upset by it and unfortunately I didn’t think of it either.

I hope this explains it adequately. It’s a long post but I didn’t want to hold back on any of the details because this is an important topic. If there are any points that anyone believes are not properly explained, feel free to ask for further clarification.

#destiny 2 #discourse #saint-14 #osiris #o14 #abuse warning #i don't want to get into personal information but i've been through abuse myself #and while every abusive situation is different and unique to the people involved #there are patterns for classification #most important being power and control #ask #Anonymous

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presumenothing · 3 years

Text

we’re doing it to ourselves (or so the saying goes)

(AO3)

Jiang Cheng swears up a storm and a half when he shoves open the investigation room door the next morning to find someone already there.

The red ribbon hanging long down Wei Wuxian’s back blends in so seamlessly with the red thread strung all over the murderboard that it takes slamming his hand against the wall switch to shatter the sudden imagination of his brother’s photo up there with the rest of the clues, just another person they’d failed to save from this case.

Wei Wuxian gives a hiss of half-startled annoyance, blinking from the abrupt brightness, but it frankly serves him right for standing in the dark like a burglar with only the corridor emergency lights filtering in. Had he even been able to see anything? Even demonic cultivation doesn’t give you night vision, last he checked. “Good damn morning to you too, Jiang Cheng.”

“I’m not even going to ask how you got in here,” he replies, because at least half of what he knows about breaking into places he’d learned after Wei Wuxian taught himself how to one boring rainy day in high school. “Tell me all this has nothing to do with you.”

He doesn’t specify what this is, because there’s no need to. Wei Wuxian hasn’t moved from his frozen stance in front of the board of clues, crimson lines running between the serial murders like a bloody taunt, a web Jiang Cheng has stared at long enough over the past week that the afterimage feels burned into his eyelids.

There’s nothing of Wei Wuxian’s usual brash overconfidence in the answering shake of his head. “No. I meant it when I said I’d never go vigilante again, Jiang Cheng. And I haven’t. I’ll swear it again on anything you ask.”

In a different time, Wei Wuxian would already have sworn up and down that the heavens should strike him down right then if he’d lied, but maybe that’s exactly the problem – he had already been struck down once, in almost every way that mattered, and worst of all is how it makes Jiang Cheng more inclined to believe him now.

It’s still not quite enough, though. “Swear it on Jin Ling’s life.”

He doesn’t need to see Wei Wuxian’s expression to know he’s not happy about that. Which doesn’t matter, because neither of them are; the space Jin Ling occupies among them has been almost sacred especially after they’d nearly lost Yanli-jie, but it’s also exactly why Jiang Cheng is asking him to swear on this. He can’t accept anything less.

Wei Wuxian has to know that, too, because he doesn’t argue, only says, “I swear on Jin Ling’s life that I don’t have any direct involvement with this case.”

Jiang Cheng raises an eyebrow and pointedly does not look relieved. “‘Direct’?”

“Duh.” Wei Wuxian gestures, wide and too-careless, at the grotesque web on the wall. “You’ve got a copycat killer, and a surprisingly thorough one at that. I’d be surprised if the original Yiling Patriarch isn’t tied to this somehow.”

“Careful, they might not be able to see your ego from space,” Jiang Cheng bites right back, even though he’s been thinking the same for probably about as long as Lan Wangji has, for all that they hadn’t acknowledged it aloud until the day before yesterday. “How the hell did you even find out about this?”

“Wen Qing did most of the autopsies, didn’t she?” Wei Wuxian answers, pretty much as he’d been expecting. “And before you think about going to yell at her, she didn’t actually reveal any case details to me, just that you and Lan Zhan were investigating something that I might be interested in. Also that she might snap and add one or both of you to the body count if she has to mediate even one more argument between you two.”

How Wei Wuxian’s presence could possibly do anything except exacerbate that, Jiang Cheng has no idea, but it’s not like he can afford to alienate the best medical examiner they have across all the districts. (And he doesn’t want to, either; Wen Qing’s clear expertise had single-handedly silenced all of the brass who’d had issues with hiring a Wen, but there’s never any telling what might get them started up again.)

Still. “I wouldn’t call that mediating,” Jiang Cheng mutters.

Wei Wuxian laughs, because he still doesn’t have even half an ounce of self-preservation, even against someone who could and would immobilise people with just three well-placed needles. “Speaking of which, how much longer are you gonna lurk there, Lan Zhan? I thought the Gusu bureau had a rule against eavesdropping and all.”

Jiang Cheng gets a crick in his neck from how fast he turns, and sure enough – there’s Lan Wangji stepping out of shadows that had hidden him far too well for someone in so much white. (Even after having no choice but to work this case together with him Jiang Cheng still has absolutely no fucking idea how Lan Wangji keeps his clothes spotless even at crime scenes; he’s starting to suspect it’s some kind of cultivation-related trick designed specifically for this purpose.)

“Eavesdropping would require neither of you to be aware of my presence,” he says, like that isn’t just some bit of pedantry, and inclines his head. “Wei Ying. Jiang Wanyin.”

And that’s definitely intentional, putting his name last like Jiang Cheng cares what order Lan Wangji addresses people in. Which he really, really doesn’t, especially not before inhaling at least half the thermos of coffee that always resides in his backpack in avoidance of the acidic slop from the pantry machine.

Wei Wuxian smiles at Lan Wangji, because of course he does, but it’s strangely gratifying to note that he hasn’t put any effort in making it look convincing at all. “Well, Lan Zhan – do I need to swear my innocence in this case to you too?”

“Unnecessary. I believe you,” Lan Wangji says, bearing regal like he’s some monarch issuing a decree, and Jiang Cheng snorts. How easy for him to say that when Wei Wuxian hadn’t cost his bureau and family almost everything they’d been.

It doesn’t make the back of his throat taste any less bitter when Wei Wuxian’s expression warms a little at that, but at this point Jiang Cheng doesn’t think anything ever will. “Enough chitchat,” he snaps. “The paperwork?”

Lan Wangji retrieves a folder from his briefcase and slides it over to the centre of the table wordlessly, while Jiang Cheng crosses his arms and scowls at Wei Wuxian until it sinks through his stupidly thick skull that the paperwork is for him.

The answering groan, at least, is entirely sincere. “What the hell is that for? You know I hate paperwork, Jiang Cheng, I didn’t quit over it but I very well could have.”

Yes, he’s very aware of that, seeing as their weekly paperwork grudge-match marathons from before everything had gone to hell had been held in his office. “Just read and sign the damn thing, Wei Wuxian, it’s the only bloody reason I haven’t already arrested you for breaking into bureau offices ten minutes ago.”

And that has to be enough for Wei Wuxian to already know, because bureau policy hasn’t changed that much in the years since his defection except to get more annoyingly onerous, but still he looks surprised at the contents of the contract. “A civilian consultant?”

“You have a skillset that could be invaluable to resolving this case. It would be highly remiss not to bring you on board.” Lan Wangji still looks perfectly neutral, as far as Jiang Cheng can tell, but that’s more sarcasm-free words in a row than he’s ever heard from him since the start of this investigation. Possibly since their first acquaintance with each other.

“I wouldn’t call ‘being the prime suspect’ a skillset, exactly,” Wei Wuxian mutters, which is something Jiang Cheng can definitely agree with at least. Though the only reason this is possible at all is because there’d never been an official conviction in the original Yiling case, for a whole chaos of reasons including the public uproar in support of whoever had taken down Wen Ruohan and his cronies for good, and because they already had reasonable evidence to suggest Wei Wuxian’s non-involvement in this spate of murders.

The non-suspect in question is still flicking his way through the clauses of the contract, which Jiang Cheng would feel insulted by except he’d also gone through each and every one just as closely, taken his concerns to Yanli-jie who’d taken them to Jin Zixuan until they could be sure this arrangement wouldn’t jeopardise Wei Wuxian in any way.

He reaches the last page, and from the skip of his gaze Jiang Cheng knows instinctively what Wei Wuxian has to be looking at – the grid of signatures starting with his own and Lan Wangji’s as primary investigators of the case, dated clearly to two days before this conversation had even occurred, followed by Lan Xichen’s confirmation both as Lan Wangji’s superior and because Jiang Cheng can’t very well second his own recommendation even as the Yunmeng bureau chief, and finally a space for Wei Wuxian’s chickenscratch initials.

(It’s frankly mystifying, why someone who can draw talismans that flow like the finest art has never bothered with a more elegant signature, but it’s not a mystery Jiang Cheng cares to solve. Better that than the unmistakable signatures the Yiling Patriarch had left at his scenes, at any rate; even he has had nightmares about that.)

Jiang Cheng tosses him a pen, anything to break the sudden silence, and Wei Wuxian catches it without looking but of course doesn’t get right to signing, because that would be sensible. “What is this for, then? There are easier ways to keep an eye on me. Cheaper, too.”

“The forensic evidence is scant, and the culprit has done something to keep the victims’ souls beyond my ability to communicate with,” Lan Wangji answers without further prompting, which is probably more information than they should be giving out to a not-yet-contracted civilian but Jiang Cheng’s not the one with a stick up his ass about protocol in this room and anyway Wei Wuxian had already broken in here. “An alternative method might help.”

“Last I checked, no one likes the alternative when it means resurrecting th– ah,” Wei Wuxian cuts himself off with a flick of his gaze between them, and has the gall to look amused. “So the old coots are desperate enough by now that anything goes?”

“Not anything,” Jiang Cheng grates out, just to be clear. Wei Wuxian hadn’t been wrong; the investigation methods favoured by each bureau differ even just among the four major ones, but the dislike of the way Wei Wuxian had done things since somehow escaping being taken hostage by Wen Chao had been almost universal.

(There’d been a brief period when it seemed like things might work out after all, when Wei Wuxian had demonstrated how undeniably efficient demonic cultivation could be in comparison to their regular methods – even the Gusu musical techniques couldn’t beat speaking to the victim in the flesh, as it were. But then everything had gone to hell in a massive speeding handbasket and Wei Wuxian had been most of the one who’d sent it there.

Possibly Jiang Cheng is being monumentally idiotic in not assuming this time will turn out exactly the same way, but annoyingly enough Wei Wuxian is also correct in that they need this case solved, or everything might just go to chaos anyway.)

“I’m pretty much the definition of anything, I think,” Wei Wuxian retorts, which Jiang Cheng ignores like the obvious nonsense it is. “Don’t blame me if you lot regret this.”

“Pretty sure it’s already too late for that,” Jiang Cheng grumbles, swiping the thermos out from where he’d set his backpack down.

Lan Wangji can deal with filing that paperwork, if he’s just going to stand there in stoic satisfaction. Jiang Cheng needs his damn coffee.

#mdzs #mdzs fic #fanfiction #mine #long post #once again i blatantly plagiarise richard siken for a fic title #yes this was supposed to be the sort-of-pushing daisies au but things happened #/elaborate and unbothered shrug emoji

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thelastspeecher · 3 years

Text

Eggs and Pollywogs

This is the final ficlet I’ll be posting for my Nixie AU. Not because I won’t write anything else for it or anything like that, but because I’m going to be focusing my writing attention for the Nixie AU into making a multichap! I’m hoping to finish a couple of my WIPs before I start posting the Nixie AU multichap (which I’m titling “Amphibious Tendencies”), so it might be a little while. But I’m excited to clean up and expand my lil ficlets and make it into a multichap.

But I was already working on this ficlet, and since the last one ended on a bit of a cliffhanger, I finished this up so that y’all could have some Quality Egg Content. Enjoy.

——————————————————————————————

Water splashed Stan’s face. He sat up, spluttering.

“Good. Yer with us,” Fiddleford said flatly. Stan wiped the water out of his eyes. “Yer lil faintin’ spell made Angie cry.”

“Fidds, that’s a lie!” Angie protested.

“You cried.”

“I have a lot of emotions right now,” Angie argued. Stan got to his feet. Angie reached for his hand. She brushed her thumb across his fingers. “You all right, darlin’?”

“Yeah, I think- I think I am.” Stan rubbed the back of his neck. He swallowed. “So, uh, the egg in the jar, it’s-”

“Your offspring, yes,” Ford said. At some point while Stan was passed out, Ford had obtained the jar and was looking intently at the egg floating within it. “Hmm. I wonder if all nixie eggs are this cherry blossom color.”

“Cherry blossom? Ford, it’s fucking pink,” Stan said.

“I was specifying the shade of pink.”

“Whatever.” Stan turned his attention back to Angie. “Did you- did you lay it or something?” Angie nodded. “That had to have sucked.” Angie laughed softly.

“It most certainly did. I wouldn’t have disappeared fer so long fer no reason.”

“I suspect that it should hatch in a handful of months,” Ford interjected. “Shorter than the regular human gestation of nine months, but longer than the regular frog gestation of a month or two at most.” Angie rolled her eyes.

“I know how long it takes frog eggs to hatch, Stanford. I’ve got a doctorate in herpetology.”

“Thank god,” Stan muttered. “We’re gonna need your expert smarts when the kid hatches.” He grimaced. “My kid’s gonna hatch from an egg.”

“I’m sorry,” Angie said quietly.

“Why?”

“Yer kid’s goin’ to hatch from an egg ‘cause I’m the mother.”

“You being the mom is a good thing, Ang. I’m glad I’m having a kid with you,” Stan said. Angie smiled.

“Did you lay any others?” Ford asked. Angie sighed.

“No. Just the one.”

“Odd. Water sprites like nixies tend to spawn. Maybe you only laid one because it has a human for a father. Or maybe because you aren’t a full-blooded nixie.”

“Spawn,” Stan croaked, his voice cracking.

“Okay, that’s it.” Angie took the jar from Ford.

“Hey! I was examining that!”

“‘That’ happens to be my child,” Angie snarled. “You can examine my baby when I say it’s okay. And right now, my child, my boyfriend, and I are goin’ to find somewhere private. It’s darn difficult to have a serious conversation about us bein’ parents with ya interruptin’ every minute.”

-----

Stan and Angie walked down the dock. It was the middle of the day, so they weren’t alone at the lake, but they had decided it was still a better place to talk than the house. They sat down at the end of the dock, their legs dangling over the edge.

“Can I, uh, can I see the egg?” Stan asked quietly. Angie handed over the jar. Stan removed the lid to look more closely at his unborn child.

Not really unborn. She’s gonna hatch, so, unhatched, I guess.

“Are you all right?” Angie asked, just as quiet as Stan. Stan nodded.

“Yeah. I’m just, uh, trying to, y’know, come to terms with this. I didn’t even know if I’d be able to have kids with you, since you’re a frog,” he said. Angie chuckled softly. “And now…now I’m gonna have a daughter.”

“Wait. Daughter?” Angie asked.

“The egg’s pink. It’s gonna be a girl,” Stan said, matter-of-fact. Angie stared at him. “You’ve heard of pink going with girls and blue going with boys before, right?”

“I- yes, but I highly doubt that’ll translate in this way,” Angie said.

“I’ve got a feeling about it.”

“Hmm.”

“My gut feelings are never wrong, Ang,” Stan said firmly. “We’re gonna have a little girl.”

“Well, there is a 50% chance yer right,” Angie said after a moment. She reached for Stan’s hand and laced her fingers with his. “Do ya have any idea what names ya like?”

“Molly,” Stan said immediately. Angie quirked a small smile.

“Ya had that one locked and loaded.”

“I’ve wanted to be a dad since I was a teenager. I’ve thought about what I wanna name my kids,” Stan said with a shrug. Angie’s smile broadened.

“I like Molly, too. And if the lil one turns out to be a boy…”

“It’s a girl.”

“Ya don’t want to hear what I think we should name our son?” Angie asked.

“I mean, it’s not necessary, but go for it.”

“I was thinkin’ we could name him after you. Stan Junior.”

“I- you- you wanna name your kid after me?” Stan croaked. Angie leaned against him.

“Our kid, darlin’. Not mine. Ours. Why wouldn’t he be named after his father?” she said tenderly. Tears sprang to Stan’s eyes. He brushed them away roughly.

“Yeah,” he choked out. “Yeah, that sounds- that sounds good.” Angie stroked Stan’s cheek. “I don’t think we should still be living with Fidds and Ford when the kid hatches.”

“I reckon yer right ‘bout that.” Angie’s eyes widened. “Oh! So, durin’ my time explorin’ the lake, I stumbled across somethin’ incredible.”

“What?”

“There’s some nice-lookin’ caves behind the falls. There’s plenty of room fer a full fam’ly to live there. And there’s even some natural pools of water fer eggs or nixies to sleep in.”

“Huh.” Stan thought on that for a moment. “We wouldn’t have to pay rent.”

“Nope.” Angie rubbed the back of her neck. “I don’t know if it’s a good long-term solution, but I think it’s definitely a decent one fer right now.”

“Yeah, and it’s better than living with our brothers…” Stan grinned at Angie. “I think that we can live in a cave like frogs.”

Angie beamed.

-----

Stan watched anxiously as Ford removed the egg from its jar to examine it. Every instinct he had was screaming to rip the egg out of Ford’s hands. Ford gently set the egg into a bowl of water.

“She’s getting very large,” Ford commented. Angie rolled her eyes.

“Really? You, too?”

“The egg is the color associated with femininity.”

“Assignin’ pink ‘n blue to gender is a human construct, Stanford,” Angie said shortly. She, Stan, and Ford were in the basement lab at the house, where Ford and Angie were making their regular observations tracking the egg’s development. Angie was the one who suggested that Ford track the egg’s development with her, an opportunity he jumped at.

“I suppose we’ll find out when she hatches.” Ford carefully turned the egg over. Stan winced. “You’ll need a larger jar to transport her soon.” Angie sighed.

“Here’s the thing. I can’t find any bigger jars. I think that this is the last time I’ll be able to bring the egg over. From now on, it’ll have to stay in the cave pool.”

“Nope!” a voice said. Everyone looked over. Fiddleford had arrived, carrying something. He strode over to Angie. “I whipped somethin’ up fer ya.” He handed the item to Angie. She looked it over doubtfully.

“Uh, a tote bag?” Angie asked. Fiddleford chuckled.

“That’s just one of its uses. It’s multi-functional, o’ course.”

“Of course,” Stan muttered. Fiddleford ignored him.

“Think of it as a portable version of the tank I made fer ya. When ya zip up the top, it’ll keep water in perfectly, without any spillin’. Ya can carry it over yer shoulder, on yer back, or even on yer front.” Angie looked up curiously. Fiddleford beamed. “That’s the best part, I think. If ya wear it on yer front and tuck it under yer clothes, it’ll give the impression yer expectin’.”

“That’s actually a great idea,” Stan said. “Angie and I have been getting a bit worried about people noticing we have a kid when she was never pregnant.” He waved a hand. “Sure, adoption exists, but there’s no way the kid won’t have either my nose or Angie’s. She’s gonna look like us.”

“Thank you, Fidds,” Angie said. She smiled. “This really is great.” Fiddleford’s smile broadened further.

“Speaking of which traits your daughter is going to get…” Ford said slowly. Fiddleford frowned.

“What makes ya think the pollywog’s goin’ to be a girl?” he asked. Angie sighed.

“Stan and Ford are stuck on the egg bein’ pink.”

“Stanford, that don’t mean jack.”

“In my professional opinion-” Ford started, his voice rising.

“What were ya goin’ to say about traits?” Angie interrupted.

“I- ahem.” Ford cleared his throat. “I wonder which traits from which forms will pass down.” Angie frowned thoughtfully.

“Elaborate.”

“In your native form, you are blonde, like Fiddleford,” Ford said, gesturing to Angie’s caramel-colored hair. Stan rolled his eyes.

“The guy who said my kid’s egg is ‘cherry blossom’ thinks Angie and Fiddleford have the same hair color,” he muttered. Ford blinked.

“They’re both blonde.”

“Yeah, but in different ways.”

“Stanford, ignore him,” Fiddleford said. “Finish yer thought, please.”

“Right. As I was saying, Angie, you are blonde when in human form, but as a nixie, you have black hair. I’m curious as to whether your daughter will have black hair or blonde hair as a human.”

“Or brown hair,” Angie said. Ford frowned.

“Why would she have brown hair?” he asked. Stan cupped his hands around his mouth.

“Dumbass, I’m the kid’s dad!” he shouted.

“Ah. Yes. Fair point.” Ford looked at Stan with some concern. “Are you all right?”

“No, my genius brother is an idiot,” Stan retorted, crossing his arms.

“Not-” Ford huffed. “Your voice sounds…off. Do you have a frog in your throat?”

“That’s racist,” Angie mumbled.

“I mean, I don’t have a frog in my throat right now,” Stan said. Fiddleford and Angie turned beet red. After a moment, Ford flushed as well. Stan snickered. “Nah, I think that I’m just getting used to living behind the waterfall.”

“Why would that alter your voice?” Ford asked. Stan shrugged.

“I mean, I haven’t been able to fully dry off since we moved there. Don’t you get sick if you stay wet?”

“Not necessarily,” Ford said.

“He’s fine,” Angie said. “Can we please finish lookin’ at the egg? I’m eager to try this here bag Fidds made.”

“Yes, of course.” Ford and Angie turned their attention back to the egg. Fiddleford joined them as well. Stan leaned against the wall, deciding to observe from a distance. He uncrossed an arm to scratch his neck, unaware of the thin slime that briefly oozed from the itch.

-----

“Stan!” Stan looked up from his attempts to shave, using one of the cave pools as a mirror. Angie beamed broadly at him. “C’mere!” Stan wiped his face clean, got up, and joined Angie at the pool she had designated for the egg. “Look!” She pointed at the egg.

“Uh, what am I looking at?” Stan asked.

“The lil pollywog is swimmin’ in the egg!” Angie gushed. Stan sat down and leaned in to look closely at the egg. His eyes widened. Sure enough, the dark speck inside the egg was moving. “I reckon it’s a bit like when someone pregnant first feels their baby kickin’.”

“Yeah.”

“I’d say that we’ve only got a couple months ‘fore the lil one hatches.”

“Wow, that soon?”

“Yep.”

“Damn.” Stan smiled as he watched the tadpole swimming around inside its egg. “Holy Moses, I’m gonna be a dad soon,” he said quietly. His eyes widened. “I’m gonna be a dad, but I’m not married.”

“Oh,” Angie said, sounding surprised. “That’s right. We ain’t married.”

“We should probably do that at some point,” Stan said. Angie laughed softly. “What?”

“I’m just imaginin’ my fam’ly gettin’ invitations to a wedding where they haven’t even heard of the groom ‘fore.”

“Wait.”

“Oh. Oh no.” Stan and Angie stared at each other. “I never told my fam’ly ‘bout ya.”

“We’ve been dating for months! We’re gonna be parents soon!”

“I- well-” Angie spluttered. “Have you told yer fam’ly ‘bout me?” she shot back.

“Touché. But you talk to your family a lot more than I talk to mine.”

“Yeah.” Angie rubbed the back of her neck nervously. “There’s just- a lot has happened very quickly. We first met a lil over a year ago, ‘member?”

“That was only a year ago?”

“A bit more,” Angie corrected.

“Still.” Stan looked back at the egg. “Damn. We moved fast.”

“Apparently.” Angie groaned, kneading her forehead. “Oh, Lord. They’re all goin’ to blow their gaskets.”

“Especially when you mention the kid,” Stan pointed out. Angie groaned louder. “I wonder how easily we’ll be able to get the kid to look human…” After a moment, Angie nodded.

“Good point. Maybe we wait to mention we have a child until that child can hide its gills.”

-----

Stan scowled as he watched Lute stare at the egg. Angie had called her family to let them know she had a serious boyfriend about a month ago. Earlier that week, her older brother, Lute, had showed up determined to find out Stan’s “intentions” with his younger sister. Before Stan knew what was happening, Lute had discovered Angie was a nixie, as well as the existence of the egg.

And now, he’s in my home, gaping at my unhatched kid like it’s the star freak in a sideshow. Stan cleared his throat.

“All right, are you satisfied?” he asked tartly. Lute nodded, still staring at the egg. “Great. Now-”

“Is it s’pposed to be movin’?” Lute interrupted. Everyone looked over at the egg. Sure enough, it was rocking back and forth in the small pool. Stan looked at Angie. Her eyes were wide. She quickly got into the pool with the egg.

“Are you all right, honey?” she asked quietly, stroking the egg. The egg rocked more violently as the tadpole pushed against the membrane. Then, before their eyes, a tear formed. “Oh my- oh my goodness.” The tadpole slid out of the egg, into the water. Stan fell to his knees by the side of the pool.

“Holy shit,” he whispered. Ford, Fiddleford, and Lute knelt as well.

“I think we just watched our new niece or nephew get born,” Ford commented. The freshly hatched tadpole, the size of a human newborn, was swimming happily around the pool. Unlike Angie, whose nixie skin was green, the tadpole had mottled brown skin, and, like a regular tadpole, had a tail instead of legs. “Angie, is your child male or female?”

“I, uh, I’m not sure,” Angie said after a moment. She caught the tadpole with her arms, hugging it close. “Determining sex of amphibians isn’t easy to do.” Stan sat down and dangled his legs in the pool.

“C’mere, Ang.” Angie came over, still holding the tadpole. Stan looked down at his child, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. Most of the tadpole’s features in nixie form were very similar to Angie’s. There were a couple differences, namely that the tadpole’s nose looked like Angie’s human one, not her nixie one. The only other difference aside from skin color, was the tadpole’s eye color. Brown, not blue. Stan smiled.

The kid’s got my eyes.

“Hey, kiddo,” Stan said quietly. The tadpole looked up at him curiously. “I might be a human, but I’m still your dad, got it?” The tadpole blinked. “Good work, babe. The kid’s just as gorgeous as you are.” Angie chuckled softly. Stan leaned over and kissed her. The moment his lips touched Angie’s, a strange prickling sensation spread across Stan’s skin.

“What in the-” Lute muttered. Ford swore softly. Stan broke off the kiss to look at their audience.

“What, you’ve never seen a guy kiss his gal?” he demanded. His eyes widened at the suddenly much lower pitch to his voice, as well as the change in tone. Fiddleford and Lute’s jaws dropped.

“Ya don’t sound like a smoker no more,” Lute said after a moment. He gestured to Stan. “Maybe it has somethin’ to do with whatever just happened to yer skin.”

“My skin?” Stan looked down at his hands. His jaw dropped. His skin was soft and slimy like Angie’s, mottled brown like their tadpole’s. “Uh…”

“I warned you, Stanley,” Ford said. Stan looked up at his twin. To his surprise, Ford looked more amused than upset. “I warned you that if you continued to interact with Angie in nixie form, you would become a magical creature yourself.”

“That’s what just happened?” Lute asked. “But he don’t look anything like Angie or the, uh, the pollywog! His skin and voice changed, that’s all.”

“Okay, I need to get a good look at myself,” Stan muttered. Angie scooted away so that Stan could use the pool to look at his reflection. Stan leaned over, staring at the water. Like Lute had said, his features had remained the same, though his skin was now of the same texture as Angie and the tadpole. His face and the front of his body were a pale brown, with dark brown mottling around his sides. “I look like the missing link between myself and Angie.” Angie snickered softly.

“This is just an intermediate stage,” Ford said. “I have no doubts that you’ll soon complete your transformation into a nixie.”

“Huh.” Stan looked up at Angie. “Guess you don’t get to hog all the fresh bait now.”

“Pardon?” Lute asked. Stan looked over his shoulder.

“You’re still here?” he drawled. Lute scowled.

“Stan’s got a point,” Angie said. “Would the three of you mind leaving us alone for some quality time with our little pollywog?” Ford, Fiddleford, and Lute got up.

“Ya best bring that lil one of ya over first thing tomorrow, okay?” Fiddleford instructed. Stan waved a hand airily, noting absently that thin webbing stretched between his otherwise unchanged fingers.

“Yeah, yeah. Now, beat it.” Their brothers left. Stan looked at Angie. He winked. “Hey, babe.” Angie giggled. Stan removed his clothes and slid into the pool with Angie. Angie, still holding the tadpole, scooted over to be next to Stan.

“Given your color and the little one’s color, I wonder if our kidlet might be a boy,” Angie said, stroking the tadpole.

“Are you sure?”

“No. But it’s our best lead. So until we have some other piece of evidence, should we call the kidlet our son?” Angie asked. Stan grinned.

“I’ve always wanted a son, so, I’m down for it.”

“Hmm, or maybe you’re just happy because the name we came up with for a boy was Stan Junior,” Angie teased. She kissed his cheek. Stan felt another strange tingling, but this time, concentrated around his hands and feet. He looked down at his hands. They were now large and webbed like Angie’s. “Whoops.”

“Eh. I’m gonna turn all nixie at some point,” Stan said with a shrug. He looped an arm around Angie’s shoulders. She leaned against him. Stan stroked his son’s bald head. “Junior, I’m glad you’re here,” he said quietly. Angie smiled.

“So am I.”

#I'm sooooooo excited to turn this into a multichap y'all have no idea #but I'm going to finish at least one WIP before then. maybe two. we'll see. I've got some irons in the fire at the moment #(btw yes. Stan does pass out after he sees the egg that is his kid lmao)#Nixie AU #Stanley Pines #Stanford Pines #Fiddleford McGucket #Angie McGucket #Stangie #ficlet #my writing #my stuff #speecher speaks #(btw the things that are mentioned to have occurred but don't actually appear in the ficlet?#I'll be writing those things and scenes out for the multichap #just in case anyone was wondering why there are a few more summaries than I usually do in my writes)

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coffintownkids · 3 years

Text

Alrighty! Ch. 32 is done and such brings an end to the 朝露 arc. I’m sure y’all remember the cute scene in The Untamed/CQL when WWX comes across a group of kids playing make-believe about the Sunshot Campaign. This is the chapter where that takes place. However, as previously mentioned, we’ve actually never met pretty much any of the characters involved first-hand. So this is again slowly filling the readers in about how the world perceives all these characters.

I couldn’t decide what part I liked best...So you get the entire scene! Very long post beneath the cut.

*EDITED* @weishenmewwx was nice enough to help me fix a couple of errors. Thank You!!!

The group of children stopped chasing it, then gathered together to start seriously wracking their brains over it, “What do we do since no one shot down the Sun? It fell by itself, so who’s the Leader now?”

One of them raised a hand, “It’s obviously me! I’m Jīn Guāngyáo and I killed the greatest villain from the House of Wēn!”

Wèi Wúxiàn sat on the inn’s front steps and watched on with great pleasure.

In games like this, there was boundless high regard for the Chief Cultivator Liǎnfang-Zūn. Of course, everyone would welcome playing that role the most. Although his background made people too embarrassed to speak of it, it was precisely because of it that him climbing to the highest position made people gasp even more in admiration of his achievements. During the Sunshot Campaign, he had acted as a spy for a number of years and had been a natural at it. He had run around in circles deceiving the entire Wēn Sect of Qíshān both inside and out, having them divulge countless secrets without even realizing it. After the Sunshot Campaign, he was fawned over in every possible way with terrific amounts of cleverness and an extreme variety of methods. Finally, he took the position of Chief Cultivator and became the person fully deserving of ranking first among the multitude of cultivation Houses. Such a life can be called legendary. If was playing, he would also want to try out for the part of Jīn Guāngyáo. Picking this little boy to be the Leader was just common sense!

So JGY is super well-liked by everyone, or so we’re led to believe at this point in the story. It’s mentioned in the novel very early on that he is JGS’s bastard, but it’s definitely pretty much glossed over and this certainly makes it sound like nobody cared about his “embarrassing” history. (We will come to learn this is, in fact, bullshit.) BUT, WWX does seem to think quite well of him.

Fun language bit about the “fawned over in every possible way with terrific amounts of cleverness and an extreme variety of methods.” The sentence uses 百般, 千般, 万般 to show the increase of how much praise got heaped upon him as 百=100, 千=1,000, and 万=10,000.

My other takeaway, which I think the show did a pretty bad job at conveying, was the passage of time and that JGY was actually with the Wēn Sect for years.

Moving on.

Another one of them protested, “I’m Niè Míngjué and I’ve won the most battles and have had the most captives surrender to me. I should be the Leader!”

‘Jīn Guāngyáo’ said, “But I’m the Chief Cultivator.”

‘Niè Míngjué’ raised his fist, “So what if you’re Chief Cultivator. You’re also my sān-dì, so you won’t see me running off with my tail between my legs.”

As expected, ‘Jīn Guāngyáo’ was rather well-suited at getting into character. He hunched his shoulders and ran away.

Sān-dì (三弟) just means third brother. AKA JGY was the youngest within 3zun.

Then another kid said, “You’re the one that died young.”

Since he had chosen to be a certain cultivation head, he naturally had been looking forward to being said cultivation head a little bit. ‘Niè Míngjué’ got mad, “Jīn Zixuān, you died earlier than I did. You had an even shorter life!”

‘Jīn Zixuān’ was unconvinced, “So what if I died younger? I was ranked Number Three!”

“Being ranked Number Three just means your looks were ranked Number Three!”

At that point, one of the little boys seemed tired of both running and standing, so he slowly walked over by the steps and sat down by Wèi Wúxiàn. He waved his hand like he was some sort of mediator and said, “Alright already, there’s no need to fight about it. I’m the Yílíng Lǎozǔ, so I’m the most awesome.”

Wèi Wúxiàn, “……”

He glanced down and, sure enough, the little kid was carrying a little branch at his waist that was probably meant to be Chénqíng.

There was actually a child pure enough to not bother arguing about good and evil. He was only debating the value of combat abilities and had willing taken up the honor of being the Yílíng Lǎozǔ.

Another kid said, “No way. I’m the Sāndú Shèngshǒu and I’m the most awesome.”

The ‘Yílíng Lǎozǔ’ rather understandingly said, “Jiāng Chéng! What can you do that’s better than me? When haven’t you lost to me? How is it a good idea for you to say you’re the most awesome? Aren’t you embarrassed?”

‘Jiāng Chéng’ said, “Hmph! How am I better than you? Do you remember how you died?”

Wèi Wúxiàn’s faint smile got wiped right off his face once his meaning sunk in.

It was like being jabbed with a highly poisonous needle without warning and it sent faint prickling pain throughout his entire body.

Oof. That is a lot.

The ‘Yílíng Lǎozǔ’ next to him clapped, “Look at me! On my left is Chénqíng, on my right is the Tiger Seal. Plus I have the Ghost General. There are none beneath Heaven that are my equal! Hahahaha…” He had a stick in his left hand, a stone in his right, and was laughing hysterically, “Wēn Níng, come out!” A kid in the back of the crowd raised his hand and weakly said, “I’m here…that’s…I want to say…during the Sunshot Campaign, I didn’t die, either...”

Wèi Wúxiàn felt that he couldn’t not interrupt.

He said, “Fellow cultivators, can I ask you a question?”

The children had never had an adult take part when they played this game before, let alone one that didn’t scold them and was completely serious about asking them a question. The ‘Yílíng Lǎozǔ’ was giving him a strange and guarded look as he said, “What do you want to ask?”

Wèi Wúxiàn said, “Why don’t you have any people from the Lán Sect of Gūsū?”

“We do!”

“Where are they?”

The ‘Yílíng Lǎozǔ’ pointed at a kid that hadn’t opened his mouth to say a single word from the start, “That’s him.”

Wèi Wúxiàn looked at him and, sure enough, he was completely fine-featured and looked like a charming child. He had a clean, white string wrapped around his forehead to serve as his head ribbon. He asked, “Who is he?”

The ‘Yílíng Lǎozǔ’ disdainfully curled his lip and said, “Lán Wàngjī!”

…Great. This group of children grasped his essence. If you’re playing the part of Lán Wàngjī you really ought to shut up and not talk!

Then suddenly, the corners of Wèi Wúxiàn’s mouth began to curl again.

That little poisoned needle got pulled out and he didn’t know what cranny it got tossed into, but all the stinging pain had instantly been swept away. Wèi Wúxiàn said to himself, “It’s both wonderful and strange. He’s such a stuffy person. Why does he always make me feel so happy?”

*yelling* Why does he make you so happy, WWX? Any guesses?

I’ve seen this translated as “boring” instead of “stuffy” so I’ll explain a bit. The word used is 闷 (mèn) which can be read as boring, so that’s not wrong. But, it’s a little more nuanced than that. It can also mean something “sealed tight” or “suffocate” or “shut indoors.” Like how a hot room without circulation can be called “stuffy.” But in English, we can use stuffy to mean someone that’s kinda old-fashioned and very stuck on being prim and proper. Which certainly is someone people might consider “boring”! I just didn’t think “boring” alone really captured it though.

Of course, this is when LWJ finally emerges from his Fortress of Solitude (after needing time to get through his Gay Panic.)

When Lán Wàngjī came downstairs, he saw Wèi Wúxiàn sitting on the steps and sharing a steamed bun with a group of children. Wèi Wúxiàn was eating his bun while directing two children that were back-to-back in front of him. “……There are currently countless Wēn cultivators before. They’re all armed and they’ve got you completely surrounded. Keep your eyes sharp. Yes, just like that. OK. Lán Wàngjī, pay attention. This isn’t the current you during peacetime. You’re covered in blood! Your killing intent is so heavy! Your expression is so fierce! Wèi Wúxiàn, get a bit closer to him. Aren’t you going to twirl your flute? Let’s see you twirl it one-handed. Have pizzazz. Do you know what pizzazz is? Come let me teach you.” ‘Wèi Wúxiàn’ made an “oh” sound and handed over the thin stick he was carrying. Wèi Wúxiàn rather skillfully and swiftly twirled ‘Chénqíng’ around between two of his fingers, causing the group of kids to whoop with excitement.

Lán Wàngjī, “……”

He quietly walked over and Wèi Wúxiàn saw him coming, so he brushed off the dust from his backside and called out his goodbyes to the kids. It had been so easy to just stand up and walk along the road with a smile. It was oddly like being drugged.

Lán Wàngjī, “……”

Wèi Wúxiàn, “Hahahahahaha, I’m sorry, Hánguāng-Jūn. I ended up sharing the breakfast I bought for you with them. I’ll buy more for us in a moment.”

Lán Wàngjī, “Okay.”

Wèi Wúxiàn, “How about it? Weren’t those two kids just now cute? Who do you suspect the kid with the string around his head was imitating? Hahahaha…”

He was speechless for a moment, then Lán Wàngjī ultimately couldn’t help saying, “……What exactly did I do last night?”

It definitely couldn’t have been anything simple. Otherwise, why did it make Wèi Wúxiàn keep laughing???

Wèi Wúxiàn kept waving his hand, “No, no, no, no, no. You didn’t do anything. I was just being silly, hahahahahaha…Alright, ahem, Hánguāng-Jūn, I swear I’ll talk business.”

Lán Wàngjī said, “Go ahead.”

Apparently WWX missed his calling and should have gotten into theater!

And poor LWJ is still panicking.

So now they’re off to Shǔdōng and we’ll be starting the Yi City arc next.

#mdzs #ctk reads mdzs #mdzs translation #my translation

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xbladekitkat85 · 3 years

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Why Clint is on Tony’s Sh*t List

Word count: A bit over 3k.

Chapter summary: Peter and Harley are brothers and the children of Tony Stark. Which is highly classified knowledge that nobody outside of the Avengers knows. Until Clint Barton accidentally spills the secret with a technology related mishap.

Warnings: A bit of language here and there. Tony threatening Clint’s life because he did an oopsie.

Peter's POV

In the school that is Midtown School of Science and Technology, everyone is basically a genius of some sort. You have biology geeks, math geeks, chemistry geeks, robotics geeks. You name a branch of STEM subjects, there are guaranteed to be at least 5 masters in every subject.

That being said, being a master in a subject doesn't mean that you would be instantly popular. Sure you might get hounded for homework help, but it doesn't mean you actually make friends as easily. It's more like people want to leech off of your knowledge and don't bother to get to know you.

There's a social pyramid in all schools and let's just say I'm towards the bottom of mine. I build Lego sets, I love Star Wars, I'm a whiz at chemistry and math. But people ignore the fact that I'm 'somewhat' intelligent and focus on the Lego and Star Wars part of my image. Which sucks big time. At least I'm graduating this year.

But at least I have my brother Harley to confide in. We argue over stupid stiff but we both enjoy poking fun at each other.

3rd person POV

Peter was sitting at his usual table with his small group of friends. Ned, MJ, and Betty made up this small group of people.

"So, what are you guys doing this weekend?" Ned asked the group.

"Uhhhh, I was planning on going to see that new movie coming out." Betty answered. "You know, the one with Emilia Clarke and what's his name."

"Oh yeah, I know which one you're talking about." Ned replied.

"You losers can go see a movie, I'm going to a protest outside of Oscorp." MJ replied, sipping her thermos of coffee.

"What did Oscorp do?" Peter asked curiously.

"They're trying to cover up an employee getting severely injured, the safety protocols are shitty, and HR is as usual, the worst part of it all in addition to the censorship of the incident online."

Peter nodded his head, eyes widened.

"Gotcha. I definitely understand why you're going."

MJ set her thermos down and opened her latest book, Speak.

Ned turned to look at Peter.

"Stark internship all weekend?" He inquired.

Peter shrugged and took a sip of water.

"I'm gonna hang out with Harley. Probably do some stuff in the lab. Usual stuff."

Betty shook her head in disbelief.

"I still can't believe you're friends with him." She said. "He's pretty high on the social ladder here. I mean I know you guys have the internship together but it's still kind of baffling that I never see you interacting in school."

Ohhhhh, if you only knew Betty. Peter laughed to himself on the inside.

Nobody at school knew that Peter and Harley were half brothers and the children of Tony Stark. Not even Ned or MJ knew although he suspected that MJ somehow knew or was close to figuring it out. She's scarily perceptive and freakishly good at knowing things about other people that she definitely shouldn't.

The bell rang signaling the end of lunch.

The four friends parted ways and headed to their respective classes.

*After school*

Peter arrived at the tower straight from Delmar's after picking up snacks for the weekend. He had grabbed an assortment, ranging from potato chips to pretzel M&Ms. He waved at Ms. Maldonado, the lady who commanded the reception area and dashed to the elevator, scanning his pass when prompted.

FRIDAY greeted him when the doors closed.

"How was your day Peter? Harley is already waiting for you. He told me to tell you, and I quote, "Peter, I hope you remembered my PRETZEL M&Ms not PEANUT M&M's like last time. If you forgot, I'm going to steal that new Lego set you were planning on building tomorrow. And I WILL hide it somewhere you'll never, ever, find it. Insert maniacal cackling, blah blah blah."

Peter stifled a laugh at Harley's message.

"Uh, well my day was the usual, you know. And tell Harley I got his stupid M&Ms. And I grabbed him something else too if he promises not to threaten the Legos again."

"Sure thing, Peter."

He exited the elevator to the floor which housed the labs he shared with Harley. There were multiple as the duo tended to accidentally blow things up and would need to have another place to work while repairs were being done. Needless to say, Tony was more than a little annoyed that his kids needed multiple labs because they kept blowing them up. But whatever, he loves them and will pay for it as long as he gets to blackmail them with all the ridiculous stories of what blew up and how it happened.

Harley looked up towards the door Peter walked through and lifted his welding mask off his face.

"Hand over the merchandise, blockhead." He said, his arm stretched towards the bag of goodies Peter was carrying.

"Only if you promise to leave the Legos alone, biotch." He replied.

Harley rolled his eyes and dramatically lifted his hand in the air as if he was testifying in court.

"I promise not to touch the Legos." He said in a half joking tone.

Peter handed him the pack of M&Ms as well as a container of Oreos.

"I still don't understand why you like pretzel M&Ms." Peter remarked. "There's too much pretzel and not enough chocolate."

Harley stared directly at him as he tore open the M&Ms and popped a few in his mouth.

"I don't understand why you don't like pineapple on pizza." Harley shot back as he swiveled around in his chair

Peter groaned.

"We are not having this discussion again."

"Peter you're an idiot if you don't like pineapple on your pizza."

"Harley, you're a disgrace to the entire state of New York if you do. Fruit is not supposed to go on a proper pizza."

Harley chucked a bolt at Peter's head.

"Hey!" He protested as he turned to look at Harley. And then he saw a glint in Harley's eyes.

"Pizza is a dish with everything from the food pyramid. You have grain, dairy, meat, vegetables, fats, and oh, wait, you don't like pineapple so you're missing out. You could be getting every nutrient from the food pyramid but you're an idiot so you miss your daily serving of delicious pineapple on your pizza."

"Oh my god, stop."

The boys busted out laughing for a full 3 minutes, eventually with Harley falling out of his chair. Tony walked in to find his kids cackling at who knows what, and one on the floor, almost incapacitated by his laughter. He sighed before clearing his throat to gain their attention.

The boys sobered up and finally stopped laughing but they had unshed tears left from the fun.

"What on earth were you two dying of laughter over? Should I call a therapist? Do I need to be concerned? Did you eat something that you shouldn't have?"

Harley sniggered as Peter was trying to keep a straight face.

"He was eating pretzel M&Ms!" Peter said, holding back his laughter. "The type that should be illegal!"

"Peter, you don't diss Pretzel M&Ms, they're an underappreciated member of the M&Ms family. If you think pretzel M&Ms should be illegal, you clearly haven't tried the raspberry ones." Harley replied while doing his best to keep his face straight. "If anything, you should call a therapist for Peter and help him overcome his aversion to pineapple on pizza."

Tony looked even more lost than he was before.

"Ok, I don't know what I'm supposed to make of this. FRIDAY, show me footage of what the hell happened while I wasn't here."

"Sure thing boss."

Friday pulled up security footage of Harley and Peter's conversation. Tony watched it as the two teens were snickering behind him. After he understood the situation he turned to his kids and let out a tired sigh.

"Ok, I don't understand your sense of humor, but I came to tell you that we're having Italian for dinner."

Peter pumped his fist and Harley just shrugged.

"Italian is fine by me I guess."

"All right kiddos, be in the dining room by 7ish or else I'll cut the power to these labs. We eat as a family."

*Time skip*

It was 2 am, Monday morning and everything was silent except for the faint noise of shuffling towards the ceiling.

Clint Barton was crawling around in the vents, obviously on his way to do something he probably shouldn't be.

He had lost a bet with Nat earlier and the punishment was that he had to steal something for blackmail off of FRIDAY's databases.

He quietly dropped out of a vent shaft into an important looking office. He didn't bother checking who it belonged to but he was already too far gone to ask.

"Ok Nat, what do you want me to look for?" He whispered into his earpiece.

"Check the computer on the desk. The password is written on a sticky note in your pocket."

He checked his pocket and there was indeed a post it with a password on it.

"Ok, what am I supposed to find?" He asked once he logged in.

"Look for footage from the labs." She said. "Check labs CTS2 and IAI1."

"CTS2 and IAI1, gotcha." He reaffirmed.

He browsed around until he found the cameras he needed.

"Ok, found em. What dates should I look at?"

"Look at this past Friday," She answered, "around 4:45 to 6:15 pm. Tony drank from a can of motor oil instead of his coffee cup. I would like this footage in my posession. For my entertainment, and possibly blackmail to pull on him."

"All righty, ok, uhhhh." He muttered as he searched through that window of time.

He watched snippets of the footage and fast forwarded a few times until he glimpsed footage of Harley swiveling around in his chair as Peter looked exasperated. He paused and rewound to see what the situation was.

As Clint watched the whole argument play out and the aftermath, a shit eating grin began to spread across his face. He emailed himself the whole interaction for his own entertainment (blackmail, cough cough) and went back to searching for what he originally came for. He eventually found it, sent it to Natasha, logged out of the computer, and climbed into the open vent.

"You get it?" Nat asked suspiciously.

"Oh yeah, I got it." He said, trying to hold back the mischievous laughter that was threatening to let loose. He checked his phone to see whether he got the email he sent to himself. But to his surprise and sudden panic, it was not there. His social media, however, was blowing up with comments about the two kids and who they were and theories people were spouting.

"Oh shit."

"What did you do, Clinton?" Nat asked in a threateningly monotone voice.

Clint banged his head on the vent, forgetting that he still had his comms on.

"I may or may not have accidentally exposed Peter and Harley as Tony's kids."

Nat was silent for a moment before she finally responded.

"Tony's probably going to kill you for this, so you should pack your bags right now. Make funeral arrangements as well and update your will."

"Ah shit."

*Monday morning, 6:45 am*

Peter woke up to his phone ringing. He groaned and turned on his side to ignore the call. The phone rang again and he sighed before reluctantly sitting up and grabbing his phone.

What the hell, who's calling this early?

He looked at his notifications and saw multiple missed calls and texts from Ned and MJ. Something must have happened because Ned had typed in all caps, 'PETER EVERYONE KNOWS! CALL ME NOW!' MJ's text just said, 'I knew already. Don't try to hide it from me whenever you come to school.'

Instantly, Peter was wide awake. Did the whole world know he was Spiderman? But how did this happen, who would leak that information and how did they get it?

He called Ned and before he could even say, "What's up?" Ned butted in with a sentence he was not expecting.

"Peter, when were you going to tell me your dad was Tony Stark?! This is even bigger than Spiderman! As your Guy in the Chair, I think this knowledge might have been missing in our conversations."

Peter was at a loss for words as he stood up.

"It's all over social media and people are going apeshit over this!"

"Ned, you shouldn't believe everything you read on the internet." Peter replied in a nervous tone as he began pacing back and forth in his room. "How do you know the source is credible? Remember what Ms. Hernandez said about credibility when giving information in an essays or whatever?"

"But Peter, Hawkeye was the one who posted it. You know, the Avenger who shoots arrows?"

Peter stopped pacing and froze midstep.

Uncle Clint was behind this? But why?

"You sure he wasn't hacked?" Peter asked as he feebly attempted to get out of this confrontation.

"No, it's security footage from a lab. Tony said in the video that you guys were a family."

Peter then realized that he couldn't worm his way out of this situation. The whole world knew he and Harley were brothers and the sons of Tony Stark. Of course this happened, why wouldn't it?

"I'm going to call you back, I need to talk to Clint." Peter said.

"Ok, just let me know if you and Harley are going to be ok or not." Ned replied.

"Bye Ned."

"Bye."

Peter hung up and took a deep breath before leaving his room to go find Clint.

He entered the kitchen and almost everyone was there except the one person he wanted to talk to.

"Hey, uh, where's uncle Clint?" Peter asked.

Uncle Steve looked up from his breakfast.

"He left last night. Family emergency."

"Uh huh, so correct me if I'm wrong but Clint left because dad was going to kill him, right?"

Suddenly everyone was avoiding eye contact with Peter. Yup, everyone knew what happened.

Just then, Tony walked in with a very irritated expression.

"I don't think you and Harley are going to be able to go to school today. Some kid from your school, Dash or something posted you go to school with him and know you both. So there are multiple news stations outside the tower and surrounding your school. Might be best to just stay home today."

"Is Uncle Clint still alive?" Harley asked as he walked in, yawning.

"He is alive," Tony responded "Not for much longer though."

"Dad, you can't just kill him." Peter protested. "It's not like he actually did anything that warrants his death."

"I don't think he meant to do it." Harley added. "He deleted it maybe 10 minutes after he posted it but other people recorded it on their own devices and re shared it. He probably realized what he had done and tried to delete it but of course, once it's out there, it's out there."

"Don't kill Uncle Clint, he's got a wife and kids. Besides, we need him on the team." Peter said.

"We don't need Clint," Tony said, waving his hand. "I already got a replacement set up."

Peter had not heard of this new team member that was apparently going to replace Clint.

"Who is it?" Harley asked curiously.

"Kate Bishop. She's already on her way here. Clint trained her to take over the mantle of Hawkeye anyway so it shouldn't be that big a deal." Tony shrugged. "She's a bit older than you two, 18 or 19, I can't remember at the moment."

"Ok, then, as long as she's trusted by you." Peter relented.

"Don't know what she might be like, but if Clint trained her, and they share similar personalities, whatever spirits above help us." Harley said solemnly.

Peter smacked Harley's arm.

"Hey!" He complained.

"She's not even here yet and you are badmouthing her already. Have some manners, dude."

"It doesn't matter at the moment right? You said it yourself, she's not here yet and I will 'have some manners' when she does."

All of a sudden, Peter heard a nearly imperceptible shuffling coming from above. He felt a shiver go down his spine and the instinct to get into a defensive position.

"He's right, you should have some manners young man." An unfamiliar voice boomed from above.

Harley looked around wildly in confusion.

"Who's there?! Are you a spirit from above???" He asked.

All of a sudden, a figure dropped out of the vent directly above Harley and tackled him to the ground.

"And that is Kate Bishop." Tony said, answering the question in everyone's mind.

Kate released Harley from her grip and she helped him up.

"Clint was right," She said, smiling. "Crawling through the vents to prank people is fun."

She looked up to the open vent and held out her arms, to everyone's confusion.

"Lucky, come on down!" She called.

To everyone's shock, a dog with one good eye poked his head out from the vent and jumped into Kate's arms.

"Oh crap, nobody has allergies to dog dander, right?" Kate asked, looking at everyone.

"Maybe? I'm not sure." Peter replied.

"Damn, I should have checked before bringing him, huh." Kate muttered.

Tony waved his hand at the dog.

"As long as he's potty trained, we should be fine." He said, trying to reassure her worries. "We're all fine with dogs."

Peter thought back to all the dogs he's pet on patrol. They always seemed happy to play with him and now there was a dog in the tower. Huzzah, he didn't get to only pet dogs on patrol now!

"Well, all's well that ends well, right?" Peter said.

"How about everyone gets acquainted with Kate?" Tony suggested. "It's not like you two are going to school today anyway."

Peter and Harley agreed and that day became a get to know the new team member day.

Peter texted Ned to let him know he was going to school the next day and invited him to the tower after school to meet someone. Oh the look on Ned's face when he found out would be priceless.

Taglist:

@frostedgiant

Send an ask if you would like to be tagged!

#marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #peter parker #tony stark #harley keener #kate bishop #ned leeds #mj #michelle jones #clint barton #natasha romanoff #irondad #irondad fanfic #fanfiction #hawkeye #ironman #spiderman

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aloneeedra · 3 years

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The Smile Has Left Your Eyes (2018)

Where to watch it: VIKI (free with Ads)

Episodes: 16

Summary: How do I summarize this without spoiling it? Basically, the main lead can't feel things or something and he starts hooking up with the rich girl who happens to be best friends with the female lead. (Wild). The female lead has an older brother who is kind of a cop and is kind of investigating a murder case. As the main leads start getting closer, the brother starts to suspect that the first male lead is involved with the murder case. Then about a little more than halfway through the drama, this plotline is thrown into a volcano with all good characters, and the last few episodes involve the same flashback being shown again and again and again and again until finally, it ends.

Rating: 6/10

Best Part: Let's do the Worst Part first. Spoilers.

Worst Part: okay so basically after the original plot burst into flames, they catch the murder and the best friend ends up dying. She dies in a car crash that was caused by her ex-boyfriend while the main lead guy is in the seat next to her. He's involved in the car accident but then goes missing for a couple of days while he gets taken to like a secret hospital and when he leaves the hospital the brother confronts him and the main guy is like 'I would do it all again even though I know that the best friend would die' (Because the main male technically causes the accident to happen by trying to win over the ex-boyfriend. You would think this would be important enough for me to explain it more, but it really doesn't matter whether you know or not because, again, it's thrown into a volcano and forgotten) and so the brother goes to the main female lead and is like 'this guy [the main male lead] is insane, stay away from him and so, of course, the main girl lead confronts the main male lead too and while confronting him she reveals that while her best friend was in the hospital, literally on her death bed, she was worried about him (cause, you know, he was taken to the secret hospital and was 'missing'). So that was the moment I was like 'whatnow' and it only got worse from there. After the main female lead confessed her feelings to the guy responsible for the death of her only friend, she breaks up with the second romance male lead (honestly this guy deserves so much better) and then goes back to the main male lead and like wants to date him now and he's like idk but he also likes her and she's like 'i can fix you' and that's when I paused it and started to laugh. This was made in 2018. I thought we were past romanticizing this abusive shit. ANyways. So then they start dating but 'shhh' it's a secret from the older brother. Until it's not and the older brother (who I thought was pretty chill up to this point) finds out and stabs the main male, but the main male doesn't report him and instead goes to this doctor that he knows and then that's when the drama starts to focus on the same flashback for like six episodes and it starts to hint that maybe the main male and female are actually long lost siblings (which of course is connected to that one flashback) and Ummm... I already didn't like this couple. It was already cringe that it was wayyyy too easy for the main girl to just forget her friend. I also didn't think the leads had good chemistry (though the kisses are nice, I must admit). Not to mention the two leads both don't have friends which harm them as characters in my opinion because we only get to see them when they are together or when they are talking to the brother. Doing this is kind of like sucking the life out of the drama. We're not really 'a part' of their lives at this point- like we aren't pulled into their world, we're just watching them. ANyways we don't find out until the very end if they are or aren't siblings, but by that point, it doesn't matter, I'm too grossed out already. And the ending, in my opinion, was unnecessary. It does nothing. So. Those are the worst parts. No friends. Might be siblings. Bad brother. Shit relationships. Bad ending. The last half of the drama is the worst part.

In the comments on VIKI (which if you do end up watching this drama, I highly recommend you put them on) a lot of people were saying that this was their favorite drama. Which, each to their own I guess, but personally, I can say with the most confidence that this is not my favorite drama.

Best Part: I finished it so obviously it isn't too bad. Not too long ago I watched the drama Save Me (2017) and I liked it and Woo Do-hwan so much that I decided to watch another drama where Woo Do-hwan starred in, Tempted (2017), and I hated it. I couldn't finish it and I didn't make it very far either, so I didn't make a review on it since I didn't think it was fair reviewing something I couldn't finish. Watching it felt a lot like watching reality tv for me, where my brain just becomes this mess and feels a lot like it's rotting or something. Idk, I just couldn't do it. (Though, I think it should also be mention that I do not like Cruel Intentions (which is another remake made in America based on the same story that Tempted was based on. So it could be that I just didn't like the story at all.). Anyways, The Smile Has Left Your Eyes (2018) has the edginess that I feel Tempted was trying to capture but failed to do so. So kudos to them for that.

Do I Recommend it: no. Now if you like Tempted (2017) I think you'll like this. So watch it if that's the case. However, I do not think this drama has anything good to say or even has anything to say at all. It has no point and tbh I don't even consider it a thriller. I don't recommend it.

#what to watch #the smile has left your eyes #review

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solar-pxwered · 4 years

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A List Of Norman Reedus Movies/Shows I Have Seen And My Opinions On Them

1. The Boondock Saints

The Best. A classic. Bloody and inappropriate and if I remember my count correctly, contains 194 “fucks” or variations of it (this movie certainly illustrates the diversity of the word). Terrible Irish accents. A KICKASS soundtrack. Willem DeFoe crossdressing. Dropping toilets on people’s heads. Over the top action sequences. Cheesy dialogue. Campy as fuck. I freakin’ love it.

2. The Boondock Saints 2: All Saints Day

Some people didn’t like this one as much as the first one, and I admit that I wasn’t as fond of the new detective in this one as I was of Smecker...but, overall, I really enjoyed it and I drove 2 hours to see it in theaters. I love Romeo more than Rocco. The humor was on point. It was nice to see the original actors for Doc, Dolly, Duffy and Greenley. There was more terrible Irish accents, another KICKASS soundtrack, cheesy dialogue, over the top action sequences, still campy as fuck. I freaking love it.

3. The Walking Dead

Cannot even describe how much I love this show. I have ALWAYS loved zombie related shows and movies so this show was right up my alley from the very beginning all the way back in 2010. I watched it religiously every Sunday. I adore this roller coaster ride of a show and I especially adore Daryl, Carol and Jerry. This show has it all: Comedy, drama (hella lots of that), tragedy and triumph...and it never fails to pulls me in and hold my interest.

4. Mimic

Honestly, I saw this a LONG time ago and I hated it because...well, because I have a cockroach phobia, ok?! Don’t judge. Norman’s part was pretty small, not one of his lasting impressions on me.

5. Six Ways To Sunday

This is a weird one. It’s about an overly innocent 18 year (played by Norman) who gets involved in the Mob and develops an alter ego that’s violent and his complete opposite. There’s murder, prostitutes and good ol’ fashioned mother-son incest and it wasn’t a movie I suggest for the lighthearted or anyone with those sort of triggers.

That being said, I watched the whole thing and didn’t hate it. It was just uncomfortable...as seems to be a theme with Norman Reedus movies.

6. Dark Harbor

This fucking movie...

Ok, so, I’ll be straight with you: I really enjoyed this dumbass movie. It had me guessing right up to the very end and it took me on a very strange ride along the way.

If watching someone sexually feed a woman a poisonous mushroom, lots of dark eyed staring scenes or Norman Reedus making out with Alan Rickman is your thing, then go for it.

7. Let the Devil Wear Black

It’s modern Hamlet. What else is there to say? If you like Hamlet, you’ll like this movie. If you like pre-car accident, baby face Reedus with the black hair, you’ll like this movie. I liked it.

8. 8MM

You know what the best thing about this movie is? Nicholas Cage. He steals the damn show no matter what movie he’s in and no one can even deny that fact. Norman’s part in this one is pretty small too but I liked this movie anyway because...well, Nick Cage. Enough said.

9. Bad Seed

I honestly can’t remember how this movie ends, all I remember was that it wasn’t at all how I expected it. I liked this movie because it’s a psychological thriller and that’s my most favorite genre of all time. The movie’s premise is a guy suspects his wife of having an affair and comes home one night and finds her murdered so he goes after her lover (Reedus) to try and kill him because he believes he was the one who killed her. It’s a cat and mouse chase sort of thing...now I need to rewatch it because I can’t, for the life of me, remember how it ends.

10. Gossip

Ok, no JOKE, this is the best movie I ever randomly discovered and I can’t believe how many people have never heard of it! It’s got some big names in it (Lena Headey, Norman Reedus, James Marsden and Kate Hudson to name a few).

It’s a psychological thriller/mystery drama in which three friends start a rumor at their school as a social experiment for their class. The rumor grows, however, and suddenly it’s out of their hands and spiraling out of control. People start getting hurt, reputations get dragged through the mud and then it escalates to the point of someone losing their life. The three main characters {Reedus, Headey and Marsden) try to figure out the truth behind the out of control rumors and discover more than they ever imagined, or ever wanted.

I HIGHLY recommend this movie. I really, REALLY do. The ending is one of the best twists I’ve seen in a LONG time.

11. The Beatnicks

This movie is so weird. It’s like...it’s just really weird. It revolves around two beat poets who find a magic box that somehow magically helps them get good at being poets but it’s like...an evil box and so they decide to only use it once and then get rid of it. Yeah, it’s a weird movie. Not my highest suggestion.

12. Blade II

Ok, if you’ve never seen the Blade Trilogy then I just don’t even know what to tell you.

My favorite of the three movies, Blade 2 gives us the glorious Reedus character of Scud, the pot smoking, horrible-shirt-wearing, mechanical genius and Blade’s sidekick. Not only is he precious and adorable, the movie in all is enjoyable and has a fun rave-esque soundtrack.

The one thing I hate? *SPOILER ALERT* Scud’s scummy betrayal.

13. Tough Luck

This is another one of those movies that I liked but it’s just so freaking weird.

It’s a psychological drama where a down on his luck con artist, Archie (Reedus), tries to rip off a carnival worker and gets caught. As punishment, he’s hired to work at the carnival to pay off the debt. He gets involved in a scheme to murder the owner’s wife, but falls in love with her in the process.

Things go to shit. He gets the short end of the stick. More plots and lies develop. It’s all twisted until the end and the answers fall into place.

I really like this movie, it’s one that I kept and still have my copy of.

A word of warning though, never leave this movie on your movie shelf for your father to find and watch while you’re away at college, resulting in your mother calling you and asking you why you have such a nasty movie. Because the sex scene at the end is OUTRAGEOUS. I mean, it is the FUNNIEST fucking sex scene I have ever seen in my life and I can’t ever watch it without cringing and laughing. My mother, however, didn’t think it was funny at all and my father was too shocked to even form a sentence.

I highly suggest this trippy as hell movie.

14. Octane

Ok, to be fair, this movie is actually alright, although Norman’s character gets the shittiest death possible. I mean, imagine dying because some psycho vampire kisses you and bites your tongue out. That’s one shitty death.

But, overall, this is a good thriller. Johnathan Rhys Meyers plays the villain and he’s always pretty quality. The story is basically a teenager has a disagreement with her mom and gets picked up by this drugged up, blood sucking, vampire wannabe cult and indoctrinated joining them. Her mother joins up with a tow truck driver (Reedus) whose daughter was also kidnapped years ago and who has been hunting the cult down ever since.

It was a cringe filled, yet interesting, movie and I didn’t hate it.

15. John Carpenter’s Cigarette Burns

This is John Carpenter....OF COURSE I liked this one.

I won’t say what it’s about because that would ruin the story, but it’s part of an anthology and John Carpenter loved Norman’s role so much he STILL talks about it today and suggests Norman to people in the industry.

It’s a good one if you’re into horror shorts or anthologies or the genius of the legend that is John Carpenter.

16. A Crime

I had completely forgotten about this movie until I started making this post, but now that I remember...I REALLY liked this one!!

This is a pretty sad one, but it was very good and Norman’s acting in it is absolutely wonderful. His character’s wife was murdered and the suspect was never found so his neighbor, who really likes him, creates a fake culprit so that he can finally get some closure.

This is a good one. I suggest this one if you’re in the mood for a strange sort of romance movie that has underlying thriller tones.

17. Moscow Chill

I remember watching this one, and I remember enjoying it, but I honestly can’t remember anything about it except that it’s a Russian film in which Norman plays a computer hacker who gets hired to hack into a Russian bank and gets caught and put in prison. But I honestly can’t remember what happens in detail.

If you like foreign movies with hacking and subterfuge plots, then give it a try because I do remember enjoying it while I watched.

18. Red Canyon

This one is kinda fucked up. Imagine Daryl Dixon mixed with Breaking Bad mixed with Deliverance and you’ve pretty much got the story...

A brother and sister return to their mother’s hometown to settle things and put their horrible past behind them...but upon returning they end up reliving the nightmare all over again.

It’s a good thriller/horror watch, but there are scenes of sexual violence so if that’s not something you can handle, then don’t watch this one.

19. Hero Wanted

This. Is. A. GOOD. Movie.

Cuba Gooding Jr. is the lead and he does an AMAZING job. Gooding’s character is a garbage man who falls in love with a girl who never takes any notice of him. To get her attention, he stages a heist in which he is supposed to jump in, save the day, and win the girl...only the heist turns out to be real and he is shot and the girl is also shot in the process. He sets out for revenge and gets in way over his head.

Norman’s part in this isn’t very big...but HOLY SHIT, was it impactful. His character didn’t have a lot of screen time, in comparison to a lot of other people, but he had a solid backstory and reason for being involved and MY GOD did I cry about it. This was actually the first movie of his I watched AFTER discovering Boondock Saints and it solidified my love for his acting abilities.

A very good watch. Highly suggest.

20. Messengers 2: The Scarecrow

This one is pretty ok, actually, as far as lame horror movies go.

The plot is simple: Blonde, beardy, corn farmer Norman gets slowly driven insane by the haunted scarecrow in his field that he thinks putting up is a good idea for some damn reason. He starts to get more and more violent and rapey as time goes on until his family is forced to take up arms against him.

It’s not bad. Second part in what I THINK is a trilogy? I’ve only ever seen the first two. If you like horror movies then this one is a good watch. As I mentioned though, there is an attempted rape scene in this one so just be aware.

21: Pandorum

It’s an alien movie. Astronauts run into a species that is stronger and hungry for tasty humans. Shepard (Norman’s character) doesn’t make it out alive. If you’re not in the mood to see Norman get LITERALLY gutted or other characters get nommed by aliens, then don’t watch.

If you ARE, then go ahead and watch, because it was pretty alright.

#norman reedus #panja speaks #I just thought anyone wanting to check out more of his stuff should have a starting point

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im-totally-not-an-alien · 4 years

Text

Final Fantasy 7 prompts # 34

1. Sephiroth makes Cloud have a full on mental breakdown and now he feels bad. On the other hand the blond is crying into his chest, and he's really not sure what to make of that.

2. Cloud Strife: King of the Chocobos

Yuffie wouldn't stop calling him that, particularly on the account that they were being followed be no less that nine chocobos. It doesn't help that it's mating season. Yuffie keeps telling him to flirt with them to get a free ride.

3. AVALANCHE giving Nanaki a bath, which somehow induces a water war

4. Protective Cloud looking out for Tifa. He somehow gets pulled into the "Bouncer" role

5. Vincent scaring off one of Clouds many stalkers (of which, Cloud is oblivious)

6. Tifa's wolf ring can call to/ summon Cloud in cases of emergencies via the wolf emblem on his pauldron. Kinda like a summon materia

7. I'm in love with the Commander Strife thing where he joins Shinra post time travel shenanigans and fixed everything.

So:

A. Commander Strife being babied by Genesis

B. Commander Strife becoming Zack and Clouds pseudo big brother

C. Sephiroth, Genesis, Angeal, Zack and Cloud try, and fail, to find out Commander Strifes first name.

D. Commander Strife babying the Infantrymen and looking out for them since few people in the company actually care about them.

E. Sephiroth and Commander Strife exploring the bond through the J-cells

F. Commander Strife is given a soft light blue sweater, "so he doesn't have to wear his uniform at the mall again"

G. Kunsel is obsessed with discovering Commander Strifes backstory. He has the corkboard with pictures and string and everything!

H. "Bold of you to assume I know what I'm doing." - Commander Strife

I. Someone vandalized six large walls within Shinras training facilities. Six whole beautiful and highly detailed paintings, each portraying one of the Commanders and one of the General. The last one was all of them together, standing side by side with thier swords at the ready.

The five people in question were so flattered that the investigation was halted and the paintings remained. The perpetrator(s?) was never caught.

J. Cadet Cloud sending home a picture of him and Commander Strife together, to his mom.

She couldn't help but laugh at the goofy faces they were making.

K. Commander Fair cackling madly as he sprinted down the corridors carrying a blushing Commander Strife while being chased by an enraged cake covered Reno.

....the troops decided that they saw nothing.

L. A picture at a holiday party with the four Commanders and the General, all with hot chocolate in hand and wearing a whipped cream mustache

M. Commander Strife just hands Zack a whistle and walks away.

Curious, Commander Fair blows the whistle, and is immediately swarmed by dogs.

N. Genesis drags Strife out on a spa day

O. The Commanders were all in a room when Zack started asking hypothetical questions about thigh high socks and stuff.

He questions how they keep them from sliding down.

Strife answers the question without thinking, and grumbled about how uncomfortable sagging thigh highs were.

===============================

He froze, jaw closing with an audible click and slowly looked behind him to see Genesis and Zack looking at him with an odd gleam in thier eyes.

"And pray tell, little bird," Genesis cooed with a overly sweet voice, "how would you know that?"

The blond panicked a little, "It's a long story."

Zack snuck up to his side and linked thier arms together, "A story that you will definitely be telling us...if you don't want any rumors!"

Cloud stared that them in disbelief, "You're blackmailing me?"

"Of course!" The redhead sang.

===============================

P. Cloud making Genesis a custom LOVELESS themed motorcycle as thanks for letting him cry on his shoulder. Literally.

Q. Everyone is in honeybee outfits. Reno snaps a picture, and runs for his life.

R. Commander Strife is confronted by a man who claims to be his father, which he knows is impossible for time traveler reasons.

He quickly realizes what the man wants when the guy demands a DNA test...after all, the science department has been practically foaming at the mouth, wanting a sample of his DNA.

S. Sephiroth never gave up on figuring out what the mysterious blonde was hiding. He becomes even more invested in his investigation when he hears him mention the Wutai princess by her first name. Suspicious.

T. While he was on the run with AVALANCHE, Strife had always slept with his group. Being the way he was he unconsciously sought out things that were both soft and firm to use as a pillow, which often lead him to sleeping on his team mates.

He wake with his head resting on Vincents chest, Barrets arm or Tifas abs and always, always, always, they would wake him gently by running thier fingers through his hair.

He missed them so much.

U. Vincent has rejoined the world, but refuses to fully rejoin the Turks. This doesn't stop them from throwing him a birthday party.

V. Vincent is commonly referred to as "Vincent the Vampire" and "My Valentine" by Zack and Genesis respectively.

W. Cloud met the chairman/ chairwoman for his fanclub and he realy wishes he didn't.

X. Commander Fair is forbidden from picking movies at movie night. Thats what he gets for bringing X-rated movies, Though the part that Strife didn't like was that everyone was trying to cover his eyes and ears. He wasn't a child!

Y. Commander Strife runs into younger Tifa and has to explain that no, he is not Cloud.

She doesn't believe him.

Z. Zack, Kunsel, and Sephiroth somehow wind up inside Commander Strifes head and decide to snoop. They find out everything and aren't sure how to proceed.

8. Time travel fix it, but from Kunsels perspective

9. Time travel fix it, but from Zacks point of view and he gets caught up in the madness

10. Time travel fix it, but from random SOLDIERS/ Turks point of view

11. Clouds mom goes back in time and takes her 13 year old son by the hand and, armed with only a few materia, marched into the ShinRa mansion and went strait to Vincent.

She gives the wide eyed Turk the tounge lashing of a lifetime. She becomes enraged however, after the former ShinRa spy gives her some flimsy excuse and slams his coffin closed. Long story short, she drags the man out by his cloak with her son close behind, fiddling with his small sword and glaring at the man as if daring him to do anything to his Ma.

Valentine is baffled.

12. Reno makes the wrong move and Cloud finally snaps, telling him exactly where he can shove his rod

13. Cloud is just so tired of being grossly hit on and sexually harassed. He starts coming up with one liners/ insults /refrances to combat the crude remarks.

Example:

Woman: How big is your ****?

Cloud: *said in the tone of those tootsiepop commercials* The world may never know.

14. Tifa gets turned into a frog, but doesn't turn back. Even when using maidens kisses and ensuna she remained an amphibian.

Aerith convinces Cloud to kiss Tifa, which he does, shyly on the cheek. She poofs back to her normal self and they both blush while the flower girl giggles.

No one even suspected that it was her doing.

15. Sephiroth revives and meets Cloud and Tifa's kids, who took one look at him and decided to latch onto his legs and demand his attention.

They also boldly declared him to be thier uncle/ the moon God, and tell him all about thier wierd family.

They told Sephiroth that he'd fit right in with AVALANCHE, to which he genuinely laughed at the irony of the situation.

#sephiroth #ff7 story prompts #Cloud strife #tifa lockhart #avalanche #SOLDIER #genesis rhapsodos #zack fair #angeal hewley #aerith gainsborough #ff7 #ff7 prompts #Reno #reno of the turks #vincent valentine #long post #loooooong post

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