#Four: A Divergent Story Collection

[firstelevens]

Bucky + Realization of feelings at the Worst Possible Moment for the Situation(TM) prompts if you like! 🤗

45. realization of feelings at the worst possible moment

every in-canon version of this that I attempted to write made me So Sad so instead here's an extreme canon divergence that answers a question that I asked in the tags of a gifset back in November of 2021: MR AND MR SMITH AU WHEN?

Bucky is choosing to blame Steve for this.

There are probably others who are more directly at fault. Natasha feels pretty high up on that list, as does Bucky himself. But Nat is too smug to argue with, and Bucky’s blame roster is already pretty full, so he’s decided that this one can be Steve’s fault.

It’s not even that much of a stretch, really: it’s Steve who stumbled onto him while raiding what the Avengers hadn’t realized was a secret HYDRA facility, and it’s Steve who decided to defrost Bucky instead of leaving well enough alone. Steve’s the reason why Bucky ended up where he is, leading a team of technically-reformed criminals on off-the-books missions that Nick Fury deems too high profile for the Avengers, which means that Steve is the reason why, four years ago, Nick Fury sat Bucky down and told him that his lack of a social life and generally menacing demeanor were going to blow his cover any day now.

At the time, Bucky had offered to go fully off the grid, all the better to prep for missions, but Fury had just frowned at him and flatly said, “Or you could just get yourself a goddamn date.”

Part of Bucky had been convinced that it was a joke or some kind of test, but then it had been made clear to him that he would be on desk duty until he did something to shore up his cover identity. It had seemed like pure serendipity when Natasha had wandered in from a mission the next day and had a solution ready as soon as Bucky had bitched about Fury’s ultimatum over a sparring session.

“I know a guy,” she’d said to him. “Ex-military but now he’s an analyst with one of the alphabet agencies.”

“I’ll pass,” Bucky had replied, just barely dodging the roundhouse she’d aimed at his head. “I do enough espionage at work; I don’t need to go home and lie to a civilian about who I am, too.”

“That’s the best part,” Nat had said then, a gleam in her eye. “You wouldn’t have to lie.”

She’d explained, then, that this friend of hers kind of needed a cover story, too. Something about a three year waitlist for an exclusive apartment building, and fine print on the contract heavily implying that unmarried applicants would be rejected. Pretending to marry a stranger had seemed like a bit much just to secure an apartment, but then Nat had pulled up the building’s website on her phone, and Bucky knew just enough about what real estate was like these days to understand why someone might be driven to desperation for a place like that.

Bucky could claim not to know what drove him to say yes, but he’s sure it’s written as plainly on his face now as it had been back then. Sam Wilson had walked through the door, smiled exactly once, and pulled Bucky into his orbit without even trying.

It had been an astonishingly good four years. He and Sam had gone from polite roommates doing each other a favor—Bucky’s cover story had been tailored to the background check he ran on Sam, something about unexpectedly needing a new place to live and the specific requirements of being a veteran—to genuinely being friends. Aside from the one lie of omission, where Bucky had strategically avoided bringing up that he was a formerly brainwashed, hundred year old super soldier who now led an elite spy team, he got to be himself around Sam. Months into their arrangement, it became clear that Sam got to be himself around Bucky, too.

There was room in their apartment for his persistent low-grade grouchiness, and for Sam’s shocking-even-to-Bucky’s-40s-sensibilities collection of vinyl records, and even for the tiny white cat who they’d found shivering in a cardboard box one winter by the grocery store and immediately brought home. He never could have even considered a pet before, but Alpine had been the undisputed queen of their place for two years now, and when missions took Bucky away from home, Sam was there to keep her company. 

He’d even be willing to bet that she likes Sam better by now, but if that’s true, it’s hard to blame her. Bucky has spent the past year increasingly unable to ignore the warmth that settles in his chest when he unlocks the apartment to find Sam curled up on the couch, frowning at his tablet like it personally wronged him. It always takes Sam an extra half-second to realize that Bucky is in the room, and then he smiles just like he did that very first day, and Bucky is a goner for it every time.

It took a particularly harrowing mission to nudge Bucky out of being a coward. He’d been trapped under a collapsed building somewhere outside Prague, smoke filling the air with no sign of help on its way, and when Bucky had closed his eyes in defeat, all he’d been able to think of was Sam and Alpine on that couch, waiting for him to come home.

He’d flown back stateside, taken an extra couple of days to heal up from his injuries, and made his plans to tell Sam everything tonight. 

Bucky has already picked up dessert from the tiny French spot in Dupont Circle that Sam pretends not to love, and there’s an absurdly big flower arrangement that will be ready for Bucky to pick up just as soon as he gets out of whatever meeting was so urgent and secret that it had to be held after all personnel had left the building for the night.

In the elevator on the way up, Yelena mentions a team from a different agency, something about a joint operation to protect a recently turned asset, even though reformed agents are very clearly Bucky’s team’s jurisdiction.

“Don’t worry about it,” says Bucky, as they step out of the elevator. “If they wanted us to play nice, they should have thought about that before elbowing their way onto our turf.”

Yelena makes a noise of acknowledgment and opens the door to the conference room. As soon as she does, Bucky is instantly aware of two things.

One: there is a very small baby in the room, swaddled in a green blanket and fast asleep.

Two: Bucky’s husband is in the room, cradling the baby in his arms and gently swaying. It is the first time ever that it hasn’t taken him an extra half-second to notice Bucky walking through the door.

Bucky feels all the air leave his lungs and can’t remember how to get it back. He’s certain that he looks as shocked as he feels.

He can’t help but notice that Sam, on the other hand, doesn’t.

“Agent Barnes, Agent Belova,” says Fury. “I’d introduce you to Agent Wilson, but I think it might be a little late for that.”

[wangxianficrecs]

Follower Recs

~*~

I'd like to submit this story for WIP Recs. Really great canon divergence where LXC dies (RIP dude), but WWX is secretly still alive (yay!). MXY is an absolute delight, & love getting to see LWJ being sect leader & making that JGS's problem @thispatternismine

The Wrong Man

by Remma3760

Not rated, WIP, 60k, Wangxian

Summary: Jin Guanyao is in the Unclean Realm again, playing for Nie Mingjue. It should have been just like any other day but Nie Mingjue had been particularly cutting so Jin Guangyao gave the music a little extra push. After all, it would only make him a little sicker. In the grand scheme of things, it wouldn't really make a difference. Turns out, he was wrong about that. Lan Xichen has had a brilliant idea on how to help both Nie Mingjue and Lan Wangji and he couldn't wait to share his plan. He has arrived unexpectedly in the Unclean Realm and Nie Huaisang is taking him to Jin Guangyao and Nie Mingjue. He hears the music. While it might only make Nie Mingjue slightly agitated, Lan Xichen is a Lan. They cultivate with music and so he is much more sensitive than most. Lan Xichen hears the song from the Collection of Turmoil and he qi deviates. This changes everything. As Lan Xichen's heir, Lan Wangji becomes Sect Leader. What difference will it make when Hanguang-Jun, the Light Bearing Lord leads one of the four great sects? What will happen when Lan Wangji has the power to change the world?

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

[404-mind-not-found]

I MADE A SYNOPSIS AND A SONG LIST FOR THE HYPOTHETICAL FNAF MUSICAL (Well, the first draft, I'll probably change some minor story stuff later) Edit 20/04/2024: Read the second draft instead! Act I is really similar to the actual lore of FNAF up to the MCI, but Act II is when things diverge.

(Actual synopsis text under cut, had the song list too but it wouldn't let me post with it, I'll try again later)

Synopsis ACT I William and Henry meet and create Fredbear's, and later Freddy Fazbear's, and both of their families are introduced (The Spark). Then, it shows the current year of 1983. While William wanted to expand further, Henry was content. Dealing with already existing jealousy plus this new anger, he murders Charlotte to keep him in line (Mine, Forever). Everybody except for Henry moves on from Charlotte's murder, and William continues as normal until his youngest son's birthday (The Birthday). The day seemed to be good for everyone involved. However, due to a prank by Michael and his friends, his head is crushed by Fredbear and he later dies. Charlotte, who was now possessing the Puppet animatronic made to protect her, gives him life inside the Fredbear animatronic. Fredbear's closes because of this, and William scolds Michael harshly (The Bite). Following this, William and Henry have much more frequent arguments, so does the former and his wife, until she disappears. William spends more of his time at Freddy Fazbear's, where he feels the atmosphere has changed. He then investigates the Puppet, finally understanding that her soul was inside the animatronic. Meanwhile, Michael and Elizabeth become closer together as William spends less and less time at home (Agony). William spends the next year and a half studying, finally creating a plan to recreate the events of Charlotte's murder. With this in mind, he decides to go and take the lives of four more children, Elizabeth overhearing the entire thing (Follow Me) ACT II Everybody in town hears about the murders by morning, and Clay starts investigating the situation. He suspects William as the murderer (Eye of the Hurricane). Freddy's closes down. At the Afton house, Elizabeth tells Michael everything that she overheard and the two of them look into all of William's stuff while he was away. Their suspicions are found to be correct (Daddy's Show). They then flee once he returns home. William goes to the room and unveils his hidden experiment: a rabbit animatronic for himself to become. He then decides he needs more Remnant, but knows he can't collect any while Clay suspects him. A few days pass and Jen visits Henry and convinces him to leave Freddy's behind for his sake (Until The End). However, after she leaves, Henry finds a letter telling him to go there. At the restaurant, William plans to murder him and frame it as a suicide done out of guilt to clear his name (Follow Me (Reprise)). Michael steals William's car and goes to Fredbear's with Elizabeth, wanting to find more answers there. They discover Fredbear possessed by their brother, and realise they need to find his father. Henry meets William, who tells him everything then attacks him. Before he can give him the finishing blow, however, his kids appear to stop him. William talks to them, but Michael sees through his ruse (You Can't.). Clay reveals himself, telling Elizabeth and Michael go outside, where they find Fredbear. Elizabeth brings him to the other animatronics, where they move on (Happiest Day). William fights Clay, and Henry stands. He takes Clay's gun and shoots William's leg, allowing Clay to arrest him before becoming weak (Mine, Forever (Reprise)). He, Mike and Elizabeth say their goodbyes. Later, the town closes the case and moves on from the tragedies. After Henry heals, Freddy Fazbear's is remade into a new space for children with the help of Elizabeth and Michael. William's place is gone through and the rabbit suit is demolished to make the sign. (Save Them).

[espressosimz]

hello hello! this is the list of all my gameplay/utility mods currently in my mods folder. my gameplay truly wouldn't be the same without all of these AMAZING creators, and i hope y'all enjoy these as much as i do!!

these are my essential mods that i literally cannot play without, and probably use the most in any of my saves. they can be downloaded from the creator's respective websites.

1. MC Command Centre + MC Woohoo:

"The MC Command Center is a mod that adds greater control to your Sims 4 game experience and NPC story progression options." Mods created by Deaderpool

2. WickedWhims:

!! this mod and website are NSFW!! "WickedWhims is a mod for The Sims 4 that offers sexual and nudity interactivity, enhanced relationships with extended personalities and attractiveness, playable adult careers, and many more gameplay additions." Mod created by Turbodriver SFW version: WonderfulWhims

3. Basemental Drugs + Basemental Gangs:

"A collection of functional drugs for The Sims 4. The mod features custom drugs, custom animations, altered walkstyles, altered moods, altered needs, come-ups, peaks, comedowns, hangovers, addiction, rehabilitation, and loads more. Basemental is in no way promoting, encouraging or glorifying the use of drugs in real life. The harsh realities and negatives of prolonged drug use is a key feature of the mod." "Adds gangs for The Sims 4. The mod requires Basemental Drugs and the Get To Work expansion pack. Basemental Gangs features rivalries between gangs, micromanaging your own gang members, use gang members as drug runners, run your operations through your own gang headquarters, exclusive new opportunities from your right hand man and much, much more." Mods created by Basemental Mods

these are all of the mods i use from the creator adeepindigo. the mods are split into four sections based on adeepindigo's patreon indexes: utility mods, modular gameplay mods, kids and teen mods, overhauls, and tweaks. these are all linked below.

Utility Mods:

1. General Pie Menus 2. Shared Library These mods are necessary for the majority of the mods in this section to work.

Modular Gameplay Mods:

1. Healthcare Redux "A mod which adds health care, new injuries, illnesses, pregnancy related healthcare, medical emergencies, allergies, and more." 2. Divergent Sims "A mod which adds neurodivergence and mental health conditions." !! this mod contains eating disorders !!

Kids and Teen Mods:

1. Education Overhaul "A mod which overhauls the school system in the Sims 4 adding preschool, weather related holidays and school breaks, in-school activities, detention, and more." 2. Dynamic Teen Life "A mod which adds to and enhances the teen experience, introducing popularity, social groups, more after school activities, as well as additional entertainment, social, and dating opportunities." 3. Preteen Mod "A mod which introduces a new life stage between children and teens and a new school, depending on which version is installed, Middle School or Junior High School."

Overhauls and Tweaks:

1. University Application Overhaul "This is an overhaul of the application for applying to university. It adds additional requirements, the ability to tour campuses, a graduation or Virtual Diploma requirement, as well as the ability to be rejected when applying." 2. HSY Tweaks/Modifications

these are all of the mods i use from the creator lumpinou. they can all be downloaded from their mod index page on patreon, which is linked below. full mod descriptions can also be found on their website!

Mod Index:

1. Lumpinou's Toolbox "A script where I put various things some of my mods need. This way, only 1 script file is used across various mods." Required for the mods in this section. 2. Mood Pack "This mod is a mood bank. It doesn't 'do' things on its own, it is intended to go with other mods. It adds dozens of moods to the game, to be available for other mods to use in their moodlets, for more variety and sharper storytelling." Required for the mods in this section. 3. Relationship and Pregnancy Overhaul 4. LGBTQIA+ Mod 5. First Impressions 6. Milestone Fixes

these are all of the mods i use from the creator ravasheen.

1. Easy Peasy Lumen Squeezy Hidden Lights:

"The ‘Easy Peasy Lumen Squeezy’ is a hidden lighting system! All the brightness with none of the obstruction."

2. ISO Love Photos – Full Control Camera:

"The ‘ISO Love Photo’ camera mod is BGC and gives you full control over in-game camera viewpoint without disturbing your sims! Sims won’t go behind the camera to take the photo which means if you are using something like Andrew’s pose player your active sim will remain in their current pose. This eliminates the need for extra photographer sims!"

3. Photographic Memory 2.0:

"The new and improved Photographic Memory 2.0 comes with over 10 new photo objects and a new photo studio hub that lets you improve existing photos and transfer images! The new transfer feature will let you put your photos on any painting or cross stitch. All items are also compatible with the Ink For Yourself Journal and come with improved descriptions and the ability to add moodlets. Make sure to remove and replace the original version!"

thank you for reading ♡

[corrodedcoffinfest]

Week Four: Masterlist

Week Four is over! We're almost finished now. I appreciate your participation so much! This week, we covered 7 prompts and there were 60 total entries: 56 Fics Written, 2 Pieces of Art & 2 Other Works submitted.

Don't forget there is also an AO3 Collection if you'd like to use it!

Color-Coded Ratings Key: General, Teen, Mature, Explicit.

Day Twenty-One: Hate This Town

Fic Submissions:

JULY 21: hate this town by @the-unforgivenn | Rating: M | WC: 982 | CW: Angst, situationship between Eddie and unnamed fem!character, Gareth’s attempt at dad jokes | Tags: Eddie, Jeff, and Gareth

stuck for a while by @steddieas-shegoes | Rating: T | WC: 521 | CW: angst with an ambiguous ending | Tags: band breakup, good uncle wayne munson, eddie pov

It Was His Year by @thisapplepielife | Rating: M | WC: 1000 | CW: Slightly Graphic Imagery, Blood, Injuries | POV: Gareth | Pairing: Steddie (If You Squint) | Tags: Missing Scene S4 Finale, Evacuation, Canon Divergence, Eddie Munson Lives

Back home by @medusapelagia | Rating: T | WC: 1000 | CW: f word, homophobia | Pairing: Eddie & Gareth, Eddie & Wayne, mention of Steve/Eddie

Corroded Coffin Fest - Day 21 - Hate This Town by @jo-harrington | Rating: T | WC: 999 | CW: Angst, Friendship, Homesickness, Reconciliation, Open-Ended | Tags: The one where Corroded Coffin learns that life sucks no matter where you live

Day 21: Hate This Town by @munson-blurbs | Rating: G | WC: 638 | CW: allusion to poverty, school anxiety, 10-year-old Eddie Munson (Bug's writing about Eddie and Wayne? Shocking) | Tags: Eddie Munson, Wayne Munson, music, guitar

We're Stuck Here by @corroded-hellfire | Rating: T | WC: 998 | CW: Language, allusions to death | Pairing: Allusions to previous Eddie x *surprise character*

Town Called Malice by @dreamwatch | Rating: T | WC: 999 | CW: hospitals, mention of injuries | POV: Gareth | Pairing: None | Tags: angst, good uncle Wayne Munson, friendship

Day Twenty-Two: AU Fic Submissions

pop goes metal by @steddieas-shegoes | Rating: T | WC: 964 | CW: language | Tags: famous corroded coffin, pop star steve harrington, flirting, getting together

Corroded Coffin Fest - Day 22 - Alternate Universe by @jo-harrington | Rating: T | WC: 993 | CW: DnD References, DnD AU, Fantasy/Adventure AU, Origin Story | Tags: It's a dark and stormy night, and a certain musician is looking to get out of the rain.

Rough and Rowdy Ways by @thisapplepielife | Rating: T | WC: 1000 | CW: Language | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Van Tour, Known Destroyers of Hotels, Motel Desk Clerk Steve Harrington, Meet Cute

We're a Metal Band by @rip-quizilla | Rating: T | WC: 996 | Tags: Bartender!Eddie Munson, Dustin, Will, Lucas and Mike are all in a band together, Eddie has a soft spot for these kids in every AU

JULY 22: alternate universe by @the-unforgivenn | Rating: T | WC: 1000 | CW: Strong language, snarky Dustin Henderson, but what else is new | Tags: Bartender!Eddie Munson, Dustin, Will, Lucas and Mike are all in a band together, Eddie has a soft spot for these kids in every AU

Computer Love by @dreamwatch | Rating: T | WC: 995 | CW: None | POV: Steve | Pairing: pre-Steddie| Tags: IT Crowd AU, banter, my attempt at humour

Day 22: Alternate Universe by @munson-blurbs | Rating: M | WC: 754| CW: Misery AU, stalker!Reader, mention of S4 events, allusion to violence | Tags: Eddie Munson, stalker!Reader, Misery

Settle For This by @thisapplepielife | Rating: E | WC: 1000 | CW: Sex Acts, One F-Slur, Abuse of Power (Eddie's Not Mad At It), Brief Reference to Recreational Drug Use (Weed) | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Eddie x Gator, Minor Steddie Mention | Tags: Modern AU, Fuck The Police, Literally, Blowjob, Semi-Public Sex, But No Speeding Tickets Here

Munson Magic by @corroded-hellfire | Rating: T | WC: 998 | CW: None | Pairing: Eddie x Nancy, mention of Nancy x Billy | Tags: Harry Potter AU

Day Twenty-Three: Up and Coming Fic Submissions

like i'm fuckin' in an elevator by @steddieas-shegoes | Rating: E | WC: 993 | CW: public sex | Tags: established steddie, dirty talk, blowjob, gareth is sick of their shit

Room 1011 - Eddie by @thisapplepielife | Rating: E | WC: 1000 | CW: Sex | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Famous Corroded Coffin, Touring, Winding Down After The Gig, Long-Term Relationship, Road Manager Steve Harrington

Room 1013 - Goodie by @thisapplepielife | Rating: E | WC: 1000 | CW: Sex, Under-Negotiated Kink (Including Unexpectedly Being Called Daddy), Mentions of Weight (Not Derogatory, Just Not Ignored) | POV: Goodie | Pairing: Goodie/OC (Female) | Tags: Famous Corroded Coffin, Winding Down After The Gig, One Night Stand, Mr. Goodie's Wild Ride

Room 1015 - Gareth by @thisapplepielife | Rating: E | WC: 1000 | CW: Sex | POV: Gareth | Pairing: Gareth/Di (OC) | Tags: Famous Corroded Coffin, Touring, Winding Down After The Gig, New and Exciting Love

Room 1017 - Jeff by @thisapplepielife | Rating: E | WC: 1000 | CW: Sex | POV: Jeff | Pairing: Jeff/Unnamed OFC | Tags: Famous Corroded Coffin, Touring, Road Manager Steve Harrington, Winding Down After The Gig, One Night Stand

Herding Cats by @thisapplepielife | Rating: M | WC: 1000 | CW: Talk of Previous Sex, Brief Teasing about Daddy Kink, Minor Appearance by Billy | POV: Steve | Pairing: Steddie, Platonic Stobin, Minor Others | Tags: Road Manager Steve Harrington, Having to Herd These Assholes, Like Cats, Famous Corroded Coffin, The Morning After a Show

Corroded Coffin Fest - Day 23 - Up and Coming by @jo-harrington | Rating: T | WC: 752 | CW: Angst? But then happiness? Eddie Munson sad-sackery turned into perseverance and joy | Tags: Eddie wasn't used to success.

Day 23: Up and Coming by @munson-blurbs | Rating: E | WC: 472 | Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female!Reader | CW: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), oral (m! receiving), praise, semi-public sexual activities, sorry I was feral | Tags: Eddie Munson, reader-insert, smut, rockstar

Make Some Noise by @corroded-hellfire | Rating: M | WC: 999 | CW: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), oral, f receiving | Pairing: Eddie x Reader

Mine is Yours by @dreamwatch | Rating: T | CW: None | POV: Eddie | Pairing: None | Tags: Fluff, good Uncle Wayne, good nephew Eddie, the Munsons

JULY 23: up and coming by @the-unforgivenn | Rating: M | WC: 997 | CW: Suggestive content, especially near the end | Tags: Corroded Coffin, Eddie x Fem!Reader

Day Twenty-Four: Behind the Scenes Fic Submissions

just make the tik tok by @steddieas-shegoes | Rating: T | WC: 880 | CW: none | Tags: famous corroded coffin, modern au, frankie is anti-tik tok

JULY 24: behind the scenes by @the-unforgivenn | Rating: E | WC: 999 | CW: Explicit sexual content, p in v sex, dirty talk | Tags: Gareth x afab!reader

Corroded Coffin Fest - Day 24 - Behind the Scenes by @jo-harrington | Rating: T | WC: 983 | CW: Older!Corroded Coffin, Set sometime in the 2000s, 1st Person POV, News Article, Reference to Day 23 Up and Coming, friendship

If It Makes You Happy by @thisapplepielife | Rating: T | WC: 1000 | CW: Language | POV: Goodie (Freak) | Pairing: Goodie/OFCs, Minor Steddie | Tags: 1990s, Touring Corroded Coffin, Superstitions, Goodie Just Wants To Go To This By Himself, But No, Fucking Road Manager Steve Harrington

fun to be famous by @runninriot | Rating: M | WC: 1000 | cw: language | tags: famous Corroded Coffin, musicians Jeff, Gareth and Frank, frontman Eddie Munson, model Steve Harrington, the 'struggles' and perks of being famous

Day 24: Behind the Scenes by @munson-blurbs | Rating: T | WC: 701 | Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader | CW: Eddie's got a crush, theatre girl!Reader, reader wears a dress, one dirty joke thanks to Gareth | Tags: Eddie Munson, Gareth, Grant, Jeff, theatre girl!Reader, Principal Higgins

Exposure by @dreamwatch | Rating: T | WC: 1000 | CW: scars, ableism, facial differences seen negatively by others (a photographer) | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: emotional hurt/comfort, photoshoots

Corroded Chaos @corroded-hellfire | Rating: G | WC: 997 | CW: None | Pairing: None (this is pre-Reader x Eddie)

Day Twenty-Five: Gareth Fic Submissions

a lot alike by @steddieas-shegoes | Rating: T | WC: 997 | CW: mention of shitty parenting | Tags: side steddie, gareth and eddie are best friends, post vecna

JULY 25: gareth by @the-unforgivenn | Rating: M | WC: 769 | CW: Dirty, slightly pervy!Gareth, or maybe just super-forward!Gareth, the consequence of being Rockstar!Gareth? Anyway. He fantasizes things. Nothing too explicit, though. Mentions of alcohol and sports (I can’t help it) | Tags: Gareth x Mom!Reader (heh)

Corroded Coffin Fest - Day 25 - Gareth by @jo-harrington | Rating: T | WC: 996 | CW: Origins, Teen angst, Growing Up, FOI references (Ronnie) but also some non-compliance to FOI (just...gonna skip the painful bits)

Oh My, Good Lord by @thisapplepielife | Rating: T | WC: 1000 | CW: Language | POV: Gareth | Pairing: Gareth/Di (OC), Background Steddie | Tags: Future Fic, Retired Corroded Coffin, TikTok Trends, Who Can You Traumatize If Not Your Friends?

Day 25: Gareth by @munson-blurbs | Rating: T | WC: 496 | Pairing: none | CW: parental conflict, anxiety, mention of financial troubles, mention of drinking | Tags: Eddie Munson, Gareth, friendship

Twisted Sister @corroded-hellfire | Rating: T | WC: 995 | CW: None | Pairing: Slight Gareth x OC

Art Submissions

Kiss Post-Concert by @alicetallula | GreatWise - Kiss Post-Concert

Day 25: “Gareth” by @luciferssworld | Day 25: “Gareth”

Other Submissions:

Gareth Emerson: Fluff Alphabet @hawkinsmafia | Other Type: Character Alphabet | Rating: G | CW: mention of Gareth and reader having sex (not described), allusion to Gareth giving oral (not described), brief mention of the existence of violent homophobia (not described) | Pairing: Gareth Emerson x reader (no assumed gender)

Day Twenty-Six: Tour Date Fic Submissions

wrong date by @steddieas-shegoes | Rating: T | WC: 890 | CW: mild language | Tags: famous corroded coffin, jeff's dad finally accepts he has a rockstar son

JULY 26: tour date by @the-unforgivenn | Rating: E | WC: 1000 | CW: Sexual content - briefly mentioned oral (m receiving) and sexual intercourse, vomit, pre-show anxiety, Gareth Emerson's temper | Tags: Corroded Coffin and two gn!groupies

Corroded Coffin: Choose Your Own Adventure by @thisapplepielife | Rating: M | WC: 1000 | CW: Language | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie (If You Choose Certain Routes) | Tags: Choose Your Own Adventure, Interactive Fiction, Help Eddie Make Decisions on How to End His Night After a Gig

Corroded Coffin Fest - Day 26 - Tour Date by @jo-harrington | Rating: T | WC: 998 | CW: Silliness and Shenanigans, Boys Will Be Boys Nonsense

Day 26: Tour Date by @munson-blurbs | Rating: T | WC: 724 | Pairing: Rockstar!Eddie x Mom!Reader | CW: angst, hurt/no comfort, Eddie and Reader are married with a daughter, he ran away this time | Tags: Eddie Munson, Mom!Reader, Disney World, angst, hurt/no comfort

Let The Bodies Hit The Floor by @dreamwatch | Rating: M | WC: 1000 | CW: racism, violence, use of the C word| POV: Gareth | Pairing: None | Tags: mosh pits, rough gigs, fighting, band vs the world, run on sentences

Nothin' But a Good Time @corroded-hellfire | Rating: T | WC: 998 | CW: None | Pairing: Eddie x Reader

Other Submissions:

Funko Corroded Coffin by @thisapplepielife | A diorama of a tour date for the Funko Pop versions of Corroded Coffin.

Day Twenty-Seven: You'll Be in My Heart Fic Submissions

you'll be in my heart always by @steddieas-shegoes | Rating: G | WC: 777 | CW: none | Tags: modern au, famous corroded coffin, married steddie, steddie dads

JULY 27: you'll be in my heart by @the-unforgivenn | Rating: T | WC: 1000 | CW: Loss of a pet, grief, strong language | Tags: Corroded Coffin

You Love Me, Now Act Like It by @thisapplepielife | Rating: M | WC: 1000 | CW: Language, Mention of Weed | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie, Gareth/Di (OC), Previous Steve/Di (OC) | Tags: Bickering, Fools Being Fools, Love Quadrangle, Not Really, But Gareth Sure Wants to Whine About the Past a Lot

Corroded Coffin Fest - Day 27 - You'll Be in My Heart by @jo-harrington | Rating: T | WC: 964 | Pairing: Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader | CW: Friendship, fluff, allusion to sex, discussion of marriage

Day 27: You'll Be in My Heart by @munson-blurbs | Rating: M | WC: 729 | Pairing: None | CW: canon-compliant, Eddie's funeral, dead dove!!! | Tags: Eddie Munson, Gareth, Grant, Jeff, Jeff's POV, Metallica, Corroded Coffin, funeral, death

I'm Not Crying, You're Crying (Eddie Cries While Watching Tarzan) by @rip-quizilla | Rating: T | WC: 653 | Tags: College!Corroded Coffin, crying, Eddie thinking about motherhood and the role it's played in his life, surprise at the end. It's an AU... but not the way you might think.

Until Next Time @corroded-hellfire | Rating: T | WC: 1000 | CW: None | Pairing: Eddie x Reader | Tags: Time is running out to tell Eddie how you feel.

[mmmichyyy]

🖤gallavich fic rec list🖤

i combed through my ao3 bookmarks and tumblr archive so here are some (but not all!) of my fave one-shots, wips, completed fics and tumblr ficlets i read & reread this year, ranging from newer fics to ones published in the past years ✨ there's almost 50 (!!) recs here so hopefully you'll find something new to read 🖤

check out the fic rec list i compiled last year!

(i didn't include the fics i've already mentioned in the last list plus the endless fics posted this year to avoid making this list longer than it already is, but if i had infinite time & space i'd include them all 🥰 onwards!)

one-shots:

seal my fate by allyasavedtheday (s2 canon divergence)

fix me up by biblionerd07 (Mickey has a lot of scars. Ian has a lot of feelings about those scars.)

shut the door and let go by @tellmegoodbye (s3 sleepover re-write)

these days, life is better by biblionerd07 (Ian realizes Mickey is the most romantic guy on Earth.)

in the romance section by kissteethstainred (When Ian moves to a new area, he starts to frequent the local bookstore. Eventually he begins to visit the bookstore for the owner more than the books themselves.)

icarus is online by @mishervellous (AnonMate is all everyone is talking about. Ian wants in on it.)

beginners by @bravemikhailo (Ian and Mickey meet the day they graduate college and all they've got is one night together.)

start again by allyasavedtheday (A little look at how Ian (and Mickey) comes to terms with his bipolar disorder.)

falling for you without a second look by xylodemon (s3 roadtrip)

for his honey by @squidyyy23 (ian’s impressed when his husband’s business savvy helps them expand their farm. and he's going to make sure he knows it.)

'tis the damn season by @sweetcresta (Ian comes home for Christmas and old habits die hard.)

sneaking in by @ianandmickeygallavich (Sneaking into a movie feels different. It shouldn’t, friends go to the movies, families go to the movies. But….Ian can’t help thinking about the fact that it’s a classic choice for a date.)

eighty-four by kissteethstainred (college/time-travel au)

if you love me, won't you let me know? by kissteethstainred (college au)

five times mickey wears ian's clothes and one time ian wears mickey's by @teatimeallovertown (A brief look at the journey of Mickey and Ian through the clothes they share.)

i'd follow your love down a dead end street by zoeplacid (Ian Gallagher wishes his soul mate was Mickey Milkovich, but the universe seems to have other ideas.)

wildfire by ilostyournumber (Ian is a bipolar stripper and Mickey is deep in the closet and they try not to tear each other apart.)

'til our compass stands still by biblionerd07 (Mickey just assumed they'd have smooth sailing from here on out. It never occurred to him being in prison together might be the easiest part of their relationship.)

wips:

sweetpea by @whatthebodygraspsnot (shapeshifter!cat!mickey! 🐈‍⬛)

reckoner by @thisdivorce (Ian Gallagher is married, stable, happy working as a Paramedic and trying to start a family, but a chance encounter with the foul-mouthed father of one of his patients—who has more ties to Ian than either of them know—threatens to blow it all up.)

selfless acts of the illegal variety by @abundanceofnots (The last thing Ian Gallagher thought he'd be at 19 is married—and to a grumpy Ukrainian bouncer called Mickey who's barely said ten words to him since they first met, no less. But when a rare chance at love knocks on your door, you don't just send the cute guy in dire need of a green card back to his homophobic father in Kyiv, right?)

your question has been received by @celestialmickey (a tumblr AU with a bit of a twist)

change like shifting shadows by @thisdivorce (priest!ian)

bound & free by @sunoficarus (magic/fantasy + marriage of convenience au)

a beginner's mind by @spoonfulstar (a collection of stories that take place after the events of ch. 27 of you'll never see us again)

the fine art of falling for you by @goodkwuestion (Teaching the Arts is hard enough, but mastering the art of falling in love might just prove downright impossible.)

paragraphs by @palepinkgoat (Ian has an opportunity to be a reading tutor for ex-convicts. He meets one in particular that catches his eye.)

things beyond mistake by @gallavichy (Ian, a high school teacher in need of a fresh start, returns to his childhood home after nearly 20 years to find himself once more sharing a lonely dirt road with Mickey, the boy he once knew and the man he's desperate to get to know.)

rebuilding (series) by freespiritedone (After almost 6 years in prison during which he was simultaneously built up and torn down, Mickey is free and embarking on a brand new life in New York City. Everything is different and yet some things never change - even if he wishes they would. Coming to terms with a new life while contending with the old is harder than anything he could have imagined. *long, slow burn)

completed:

technically by @annatrow (Ian Gallagher has grown up in the foster care system for most of his life, and he’s pretty sure he’s got his future figured out. That is until he falls for the bad kid who is about to change the entire course of his life.)

please don't say i'm going alone by biblionerd07 (Ian shows up at Mickey's wedding and asks him to run away together. Somehow, Mickey finds himself stupid enough to say yes.)

geometric progression (series) by romanticalgirl (angsty s4 au) *sidenote: i reread this all the time when i feel down just to feel even more depressed :')

these foolish games by @suzy-queued (A workplace rivalry becomes a love quadrangle. With laser tag.)

through the dawn (series) by spock (a semi-au set in a universe where mickey and ian didn't grow up in the same neighbourhood.)

SLOML (series) by @good-then-dont (short fics exploring Ian and Mickey’s own exploration of their relationship in a world where 3x6 never happens.)

ian the friendly ghost by @sunoficarus (ghosts au where Mickey thinks the house he moved in is haunted because the doors seem to close on their own and his shit somehow gets neat and tidy and Ian's just a very polite ghost who's got a bit of a crush on the adorable grumpy guy who's just moved in)

the little things give you away by kissteethstainred (When Ian first sees them, he thinks they’re twins. They both have similar looks, with pale skin, dark hair, and blue eyes. They act similar too—both of them are quiet, they fidget in the same way, and they make some of the same facial expressions. Ian wants to know them.)

my nine lovers by @annatrow (Secret Agents Ian Gallagher and Mickey Milkovich find themselves working together multiple times over the course of ten years.)

mickey mantle vs. the t-rex by zoeplacid (angsty alternate s5)

broad-shouldered beasts by biblionerd07 (Six years after Mickey goes to jail, he's released on parole. He does his best to build a "normal" life and a relationship with his son while juggling the scars of his past.)

OSHA compliant by romanticalgirl (It's been two years since they broke up. And Mickey's got his life together. Which means it's about time for something to come along and screw it up.)

you make me feel human by dragona (In which Ian is a cold-blooded serial killer with a soft spot for a certain South Side asshole.)

tumblr ficlets:

fiction in the archives by @gardenerian (ficlets and 5+1 prompts)

what we talk about when we talk about love by @bravemikhailo (a collection of one-shots, ficlets and prompt-fillers originally posted to tumblr)

tumblr fics ✨ by @gallawitchxx (collection of ficlets, 5+1 prompts, scene fillers)

time travel au part one / two / three / four / five by @whatthebodygraspsnot (s1 ian & mickey meet their s11 selves)

who's more cold & happy husband weight gain by @iansfreckles (& all their drabbles!)

magic au & migraine ficlet by @arrowflier

& of course, check out @galladrabbles for a wide range of 100 word ficlets written by our talented community & @gallavichfanficlibrary for more specific rec lists ✨

[wackyharpy]

Headcanon | Eric (Divergent) X Fem!Reader

Summary: You tell Eric that you're pregnant.

To find more stories — masterlist

9 years have passed since the 1st Divergent movie was released OMG!! And i still love Eric. I've read enough fics with him but pregnancy isn't common so i've decided why not? :) enjoy!

P.S. English isn't my native

You've been in relationships for about four years since your initiation when you transferred from Erudite.

Eric was that type of a person whom it's hard to develop the relationships with but you two managed to get used to each other and become a loving couple.

He has still remained dominant and intimidating, at times rough and cruel (not towards you) but as quite enough time has passed Eric opened his soft side to you.

Still you knew it would be difficult. For both of you. Though mostly for Eric.

Once you were talking about how other couples develop their relationships and decide have children. At this point, you noticed Eric's tension about the topic. He always refused to keep on talking about potential babies.

You were on birth control and Eric hated using condoms. Pills were more useful though as you hadn't always had opportunity to take condoms with you or to find one in the process of undressing each other.

Yes, occasionally Eric was horny. Other times EXTREMELY horny. You couldn't help but being grabbed and pressed to the cold wall of the dark alcove, or being locked in some closet and then Eric would fuck your brains out.

Life at Dauntless was never easy and hard work or long missions often took away your opportunity to take pills on time.

And Eric was so impatient and fucked you hard...

And often spilled inside of you...

And now you were sitting on the floor of the bathroom in your shared apartment looking with shoked round eyes at the pregnancy test. Your hands were trembling and you felt as if your heart could stop at any time.

You, ultimately, were Dauntless so you had to tell him.

That evening you were sitting in the kitchen having late dinner.

"Do you feel well?" Eric asked and you lifted up your head from the plate.

"Yeah, why?"

"It seems you don't have appetite," Eric pointed at your portion of food which you barely were eating.

You puckered your bottom lip and lowered your gaze at the plate again toying with your fork.

"Y/N..."

"Eric," you interrupted him and sighed heavily trying to collect your at that time chaotic thoughts together.

He was looking at you carefully and waiting.

"We need to talk," you put aside the fork and looked straightly in his grey eyes.

Your muscles were tensed and Eric noticed it. He said nothing, still was patiently waiting for you to continue.

"I am pregnant," it was all you said and then arrived long silence that suffocated you so much.

Eric's jaw clenched and he strongly squeezed his fork that you thought it might be bent.

"You hadn't been taking pills regularly," Eric stated coldly looking at the surface of the dining table.

"And you had been refusing to use condoms."

Eric immediately through at you his sharp gaze.

"Eric, we are both responsible for this. We have sex regularly and when people sleep together they have children."

"Fuck!" His voice was nervous. "You imagine how it sounds? You're pregnant, Y/N!"

"Thank you for pointing out," you snapped indignantly.

Eric drastically got up from the chair and stepped a little away from the table turning towards the windows.

You saw how his muscular back was tensed, you knew he was anxious and even outraged.

"I'm not ready to be a father." He stated coldly and sharply. This tone as though grinded your heart.

"I'm not ready to be a mother either. But, Eric... This is our baby." The last sentence you said almost whispering. Still you knew he could hear it.

Eric clenched his hands into fists and tsked. "Shit," he hissed and moved towards the door disappearing in the corridor leaving you alone.

That night you slept alone trying to block all intrusive thoughts that wanted to capture your mind while Eric was training hard in the gym till his knuckles were bleeding.

The following day you didn't see each other. He was busy with his leader's work so as you. But the day turned out to be shitty for you as intrusive thoughts, however, took hold of your mind.

What if you would break up and you would be a single mother? Should you terminate your pregnancy? Or should you shrugg off Eric and bring up a child by yourself?

Somehow you were able to finish your work and went back to your shared apartment where you were readying yourself to sleep.

You were sitting on the bed taking off your trousers when you felt somebody's presence. Turning your head you saw Eric standing at the door way looking at you attentively.

You ignored him and continued undressing.

"Y/N..."

"What?!" You suddenly cried out. "What, Eric? You wanna add something? I guess your yesterday's reaction was quite clear!"

Eric sighed heavily and came up kneeling down in front of you. His hands rested on your hips squeezing it lightly.

"Listen, I'm not gonna break up with you. Understand? I told you the truth yesterday that I'm not ready. I don't think I will ever be a good father."

"You can't know exactly, Eric." You placed your hand on his forearms.

Again silence hung between you. Eric was gently brushing your hips with his thumbs. You were looking into his deep eyes seeing hesitation. The Dauntless Leader was hesitating. He was uncertain and insecure about what future you may have. A baby? This was too much.

"Eric," you brushed his cheek smiling lovingly. "You are the bravest man I've ever known, but it's okay to be afraid. I see this fear and uncertainty in your eyes. And... I'm also scared. But I need you. We need you," you placed your right palm on your abdomen. "I need your support and protection."

It was clearly seen how Eric was thinking over everything, how pupils in his eyes dilated. He was figuring out what exactly he needed and wanted from this life. And he wanted you. He desired you. Loved you.

Eric straightened and touched your soft lips with his kissing you passionately. His left hand rested on your cheek and his right arm wrapped your waist drawing your body closer to his.

You felt safe in his embrace and his passionate kiss showed his love towards you.

"I will," Eric said breathing heavily after the kiss. He rested his forehead on yours looking straightly into your eyes. "I will support and protect you both." Eric layed his hand onto your stomach. "I promise."

Your heart melted again just like that time when he finally said that he loved you. You smiled happily and then it was your turn to kiss him. You were eagerly exploring his mouth with your tongue while your skilled fingers were unfastening his belt. You tore up your kiss cunningly looking at him. "I want you so badly, Eric. Now."

Contented smirk appeared on his handsome face and he layed you down on the bed looming over you. "Watch out, darling or I'll develop another kink."

"Which one?" You were running your fingers over his muscular chest under the T-shirt desiring to feel it bare against your breasts as soon as possible.

"Pregnancy sex," he sweetly whispered at your ear running fingers against your pubic bone directly to your clit.

!! I do not own the image nor do I claim to own it!!

[amberskywrites]

Eternal

Chapter 24 - Consequences

Chapter 1 | Chapter 23 | Chapter 25 || Masterpost | AO3 Link | FF.net Link

Fandom / Genre: Nanatsu no Taizai (Seven Deadly Sins) / Canon-Divergent and Hurt/Comfort

Pairings: Meliodas/Elizabeth, Zeldris/Gelda, Meliodas & Zeldris & Elizabeth & Gelda

Overall Story Warnings: Angst with a happy ending, Canon-typical violence, Canonical character death, Canon temporary character death, Cursed characters, Lmk if I need to add anything else!

Chapter Warnings: None, lmk if there’s anything I need to add!

Author's Note:

So, so incredibly sorry for how long it's taken to get back to this! A lot of stuff ended up happening - younger sibling was dealing with a lot of health issues, family tensions reached a new high, I'm no longer on speaking terms with someone in my house, so much uni work. And now I'm trying to get to a point where I'm no longer reliant on that someone financially, trying to plan to move out later this year, and am now working retail part-time before uni starts up again alongside an internship I was accepted for. I can't promise that updates will be more frequent or be on any kind of schedule; but what I can promise is that this story will not be abandoned. If you ever want an update on how it's going - or just to ask me what's up - message me anywhere from here on Ao3 to Tumblr or Instagram ^^ Thank you all, genuinely, for being patient and for the love you have shown this story - I truly appreciate it!

Story Summary:

Eternal…

life.

reincarnation.

silence.

and chains.

For 3,000 long and painful years, these four have been doing all they can to lift their curses. They have failed, again and again and again. With only a sliver of hope left, they try once more.

-

Or, what if Zeldris accepted Meliodas’ offer to go with him 3,000 years ago?

King’s eyes were wide, and his voice caught in his throat. But even if he wanted to say anything, he had no words. All he managed was a strangled gasp before he heard the distorted and so, so painfully familiar voice of his baby sister come from the lights.

“Ban, what happened? How did you get that scar?”

She didn’t even acknowledge him, the lights tilting slightly to the side but still near Ban, still not moving away from the man who should still be petrified.

Ban scoffed and tilted his head King’s way, but didn’t actually look at King. His expression was… if King had to name it, he’d say fond, faux annoyance plastered on his face.

“I thought you guys watched over us from the other side?”

“It… it really is her- Elaine!” King choked out, and he was vaguely aware of Ban glancing at him, but King couldn’t- he just couldn’t be bothered anymore. Not when… “Please, show yourself to me too!”

Ban continued looking at him, and he said something, though King didn’t hear it. It wasn’t too quiet, but everything suddenly seemed muffled, and all that mattered was Elaine. He had to see her again, make up for his mistakes.

The orbs of light swayed slightly, side to side, as if she were shaking her head. King’s heart settled in his throat as tears stung his eyes.

“The Necropolis allows people to see each other even after death, but only through strong emotional bonds.”

He looked down, finally tearing his eyes away from the pair. He couldn’t help but laugh quietly to himself.  “So you’re still angry at me… for abandoning you, the forest, and everything we believed in…” King mumbled, feeling the tears collect at the corner of his eyes and trying to blink them away. He clenched his fists, trying to distract himself.

There was an explosion in the distance. The power was almost overwhelmingly familiar, followed by a certainly familiar aura of magic.

“A holy knight?” Ban hissed, whipping around to look in the direction they had come from. King glanced up, seeing the immortal posed to run that way. At this point, King didn’t really care.

Elaine’s voice stopped them both - Ban from running off, and King from continuing to wallow.

“Ban, why did you come here?”

Ban didn’t even turn to face her. He just paused, and even when he began speaking, his face gave nothing away.

“I came to say one thing to you: that I will one day take what is mine.”

Despite his expression never changing, King could only imagine what the man meant by that, and his despair over Elaine refusing to let him see her easily morphed into a rage that heated him to his very core. 

“What more could you take from my sister, Ban?!” he snapped, but Ban didn’t even look at him this time. King ground his teeth together, fingers twitching, calling Chastiefol back and about to transform it.

The only reason he stopped was because of Elaine.

“Thank you, Ban.” Her voice was softer than it was before, and King was frozen in his confusion.

Ban didn’t wait a second more, running off towards the remnants of the explosion.

-

Elaine watched her brother drift to the ground, head hanging, the tears finally slipping down his boyish cheeks. She watched impassively, the only thing she would allow herself to feel regarding her brother.

Too many years she had wasted in sorrow and anger and confusion. He didn’t deserve more than impassion from her.

“Why?” he was whispering, she realized. “What could Ban give you that I can’t? When he’s the reason you died?”

She said nothing, but she did drift closer, if only to hear more of what he would say on the things he had no knowledge of.

“How can you forgive Ban?”

How could she forgive him?

What is there to forgive?

Ban didn’t do anything to her.

…

Well. That’s not true.

Elaine didn’t inhale, because she no longer needed to, but she thinks if she still had to breathe she would have. She let go of the impassion, the indifference. And she let the pain in her heart soul boil to the surface as she stared at her big, foolish brother.

“You left,” she starts. “You left, and I was forced to spend hundreds of years in solitude.” She could hear her voice reverberate off the crystalline walls around them, so far away still. But his breathing had hitched, he was listening, and she could see the moment his heart skipped a beat when she finally addressed him. She could feel the way his heart ached, the pain that plagued it, the pain that he had no right to feel when he left.

The pain was familiar. The pain was her own as much as it was his.

Her next words were clearer, grounded in her instead of around them. His head snapped up.

“Seven hundred years after you abandoned your country, after you abandoned me. And Ban… Ban erased all the loneliness in just seven days. He made those centuries feel like nothing more than a nightmare.” 

He couldn’t find words, his mouth opening and closing but not even a stranged sound could escape. She narrowed her eyes, just slightly. He was still her brother, after all, and she would not allow her rage and hurt caused by him to take over her soul. She would not.

“You ask how I can forgive Ban. But I have to ask, how can I forgive you?” 

The anguish on his face didn’t bring her any satisfaction. It only sparked a fury in her chest, and she ached with the anger. She took a faux breath, if only to ground herself, and smoothed the glare away, dragging back the indifferent expression to her face.

“You don’t know him, brother. You don’t know him at all.”

-

Zeldris hauled Meliodas out of the rubble, the brothers hunching behind Gelda a moment later as she blasted one of Guila’s incoming attacks.

“We’re getting nowhere,” Meliodas huffed, “and only being driven back to where Elizabeth ran.”

“We’re getting somewhere,” Zeldris said. “We’re being good distractions.”

“I wouldn’t call you distractions. I haven’t forgotten about Princess Elizabeth,” Guila said from where she stood on a high crystal that Diane had made in an attempt to attack her. “However, I have no intention of passing up the chance of fighting two of the Seven Deadly Sins.” She tilted her head, regarding Gelda and Zeldris with a contemplative frown. “Well, two depowered Sins and their… family, if the reports are to be believed. I must say, it is a mystery as to why two people so seemingly as powerful as the Sins would not have fought alongside them over ten years ago. I must ask-”

“None of your business!” Diane swung a hammer-shaped crystal at the pillar Guila had claimed, forcing the possible holy knight to leap to another. Before she could get her bearings, Diane swung again, aiming for Guila’s feet, and again with every move back she forced Guila.

“Interesting,” Guila mused on the fifth swing, before twisting her body and propelling herself back on Diane’s make-shift hammer. She flipped back and created an explosion beneath herself, bringing her higher than the giant and keeping herself in the air with multiple smaller explosions. The next time Diane swung, there was a warning shout from Zeldris, but it was too late, and Guila blasted the hammer swinging at her with a large ball of flames.

The explosion forced the hammer to swing in reverse, and Diane narrowly avoided being slammed in the head by it, but lost her footing in avoiding the bludgeon. Guila took the opening and barraged her with explosions, and two, three stumbles back, Diane finally crashed.

Guila aimed another explosion at the downed giant, dismissing the fact that Gelda and Zeldris were in front of her. They braced for impact, both Gelda and Zeldris creating a barrier of purple and red flames in front of them and Diane. Guila’s frown deepened and brow furrowed. Something about the aura…

It didn’t matter. The flames would just bolster her power.

She sent the blast forward.

When it made contact, she expected the explosion to absorb the flames and continue on its path, smashing into the three.

It absorbed the flames.

It did not collide.

She had just a second to dodge her own blast.

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

The Silver Dragon (32/?)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Original Female Character

Word Count: 4559

Story Summary: Lady Arianwyn Targaryen, the Lady of Runestone, was seeded by her father, the Rogue Prince Daemon Targaryen, in an act of unbridled hatred, and borne of her mother, the late Lady Rhea Royce, as a desperate grasp at revenge.

Ignored by her father, and alone following the death of her mother, she is raised in King’s Landing alongside her cousin, Prince Aemond Targaryen. As they grow, the two find themselves indelibly bonded. But their lives are far from the fairy tales they read, and as tensions in the family rise, they find their paths may diverge.

Will they be pulled apart when the dragons dance?

Chapter Summary: After her visit with the King, Arianwyn returns to her husband.

Warnings: Adult content, Minors DNI.

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay with this chapter! Tuesday night, I picked up the second book in a quartet that I had started months ago... and now I'm almost done with book four. Don't ask me how it happened, it just did. Hopefully the content of this chapter makes up for the wait!

Series Masterlist

Taglist: @thelittleswanao3 @trap-house-homiecide @50svibes @literishdegree99 @dc-marvel-girl96 @henriettadreaming @multiple-fandoms-girl @gyuxmilk @somemydayy @kittykylax @whore-of-many-hot-men @slavicvvitch

(Please let me know if your tag isn't working, and I'll do my best to correct it! And if you would like to be added to the list, just shoot me an ask!)

The Sound of His Voice

As soon as she closed the bedchamber door behind her, Arianwyn exploded into racking sobs. Alicent immediately rose from her chair, and Ser Criston abandoned his post by the door to collect her from the floor.

“Oh, my dear girl,” Alicent said, rocking her gently in her embrace. Then, with a wave of her hand, she directed Criston to enter the bedchamber and ensure the King was not dead – that his passing was not the cause of Arianwyn’s current state of despair.

Criston emerged only moments later and shook his head.

The King was still alive.

Arianwyn had buried herself in the Queen’s embrace, her sobs showing no sign of wavering anytime soon. She was still angry at the King for all he had done. But more than that, she was angry at herself for being so saddened by the impending death of a man she proclaimed to hate.

Why should she mourn the man who had hurt her so badly, and wounded Aemond in his very soul?

Because, despite her anger, despite her inward shouts of protestation that she hated him, she did not. Not entirely

She loved Viserys. A part of her would always love him.

The sobs and cries came harder, seizing her, body and soul, so entirely that she could feel nothing else but the pain in her chest, the roiling in her stomach, and the stinging in her eyes.

“I know, darling,” Alicent whispered into her hair, stroking the silver curls with all the gentleness and love of a mother. “It is cruel that we must witness him this way, but we can take comfort in that it grants us the time we need to say goodbye.”

Goodbye.

Arianwyn had said so much more than ‘goodbye.’ She had laid bare all of her messy, complicated feelings for her uncle and refused him forgiveness, as was proper when one was on their deathbed.

Would the Seven ever forgive her for that slight?

Despite all the lessons and warnings from Septons and Maesters, Arianwyn had no desire to go back into the King’s bedchamber and apologize for her words. Nor to forgive him.

Forgiveness may be a virtue, but, like respect, it must be earned. Viserys had never done anything to deserve her forgiveness, and now he never would.

As her sobs subsided and her weeping calmed, all Arianwyn desired was to return to Aemond.

“I want to go home,” she whispered into the Queen’s shoulder.

Alicent pulled her even tighter to her chest, furiously rubbing circles on her back. “You are home, darling.”

Arianwyn shook her head, struggling to find the right words through her emotional haze. But there was only one word that came clearly: “Aemond.”

That, the Queen understood. She released her niece and summoned Ser Criston to help them both stand. After taking a moment to straighten both dresses, she took Arianwyn’s hands and helped her hold onto the Kingsguard’s arm.

Arianwyn heard Alicent give Ser Criston instructions, but they sounded distant and muffled. When they started moving, slowly, to accommodate her unsteady feet, she realized that he was taking her back to her apartments. To Aemond.  

She turned back to the Queen to offer something. Her thanks, her sympathy, or perhaps her apology. But no words left her lips.

Still, Alicent smiled sweetly and nodded. She was concerned, but she took no offense.

Barely managing to smile back, Arianwyn turned to the door that Ser Criston now held open and left the King’s chambers – including that accursed model of Valyria – behind.

As they stepped into the corridor, Ser Adrew Dutton joined them. The cheerful Valish guard had been her protector for the day, and for it, Arianwyn was glad. He had been by her side since she left Runestone as a babe and had never failed to cheer her.

She had fond memories of Ser Adrew abandoning his post by the door to join her in play when she was a small girl, helping her to build towers of blocks that she could never have managed on her own. On Dragonstone, he had taken it as his personal duty to cheer the entire tower. He was not always successful, but he had, on many occasions, made her smile when she was sure she never would again.

It could only have been a blessing from the Seven that he was there, rather than any of her other knights (who she also adored but were far more formal and serious than Adrew) to support her.

He only allowed Ser Criston to take her to the end of the corridor before he stopped and held his arm out for his Lady. “I will escort her from here. You may return to your duties, Ser.”

“The Queen tasked me with returning her to her chambers, Ser,” Criston replied, his tone strictly professional.

Arianwyn’s head had cleared enough for her to actually hear their words. Without speaking, she removed her hands from Ser Criston and gripped Ser Adrew’s arm tight. Both men knew her well enough to know what it meant.

Criston stood down, but looked into Arianwyn’s eyes. “Are you all right, Princess?”

Leaning into Ser Adrew’s side, she shook her head.

“Is there anything I can do to help you feel better?” he asked.

Again, Arianwyn shook her head.

A twinkle entered Ser Adrew’s honey-brown eyes, and he grinned crookedly as he spoke. “Perhaps Ser Criston could show us that ‘face’ that he declined to make for you earlier. Would that cheer you, Princess?”

The memory of Jaehaerys’ instructions came slowly, but when it did, the suggestion made the corners of Arianwyn’s mouth quirk up.

For Adrew, it was an emphatic ‘yes.’ He braced his arm, bringing the Princess’s gaze to the other knight. “Surely bringing a smile to her face would do more good than the redundancy of having two equally capable knights escorting her through the most secure castle in the realm?”

Ser Criston looked like it pained him not to argue, but he sighed and dropped his head. “Very well.”

When he looked back up, his lips were puckered tightly in mock anger, as if he had just tasted the most bitter of lemons. His usually serene brow was somehow both raised and scrunched, creating countless lines across his forehead and the bridge of his nose. Despite this, his eyes were as wide as he could make them. Though she imagined Jaehaerys had wanted them to project righteous anger, they were filled with only embarrassment and disbelief that he was actually doing this.

But Adrew had been right. At the ridiculous sight, Arianwyn barked with laughter. Just as she had been racked with sobs, a fit of childish giggling now overtook her entire body, forcing her to hold on to her guard’s arm to stay standing.

That the humiliating ordeal had cheered the Princess so thoroughly did tempter Criston’s embarrassment. Enough for him to smile when she looked back at him, though it only sent her into another fit of laughter.

“I will consider that my duty done,” he muttered, glaring daggers at Ser Adrew. “Good night, Princess. I hope you feel better on the morrow.”

After Ser Criston had withdrawn back into the King’s Chambers, Adrew leaned down to Arianwyn, who was finally calming from her hysteria. “Not for one moment did I actually believe he would do it.”

Again, Arianwyn laughed.

-

At the door to her and Aemond’s chambers, Arianwyn finally released Ser Adrew’s arm. Throughout their walk through the Holdfast, her mind kept slipping back to the King, what she had said to him, and what he had done or allowed to happen to her and her husband. But each time she frowned, Adrew gripped her tighter and said any number of ridiculous things to lighten her heart.

She was far too exhausted to thank him properly that night, but she resolved to make it up to him later. So, for now, she simply lifted herself on the tips of her toes to kiss his stubbly cheek. “Thank you, Ser.”

Adrew looked down on her with the fondness of a father. “It is not only my duty to protect you from physical harm, Aria,” he said. The pretense of protocol all but forgotten. He had protected her for 19 years; he had earned the right to use her name, just this once. “I will also protect you from those who would harm your heart.”

Overwhelmed by gratitude and affection, Arianwyn was again at a loss for words. So instead, she wrapped her arms around his broad, bronze-armored shoulders and embraced him.

Daemon had never been a father to her. For a long time, she thought Viserys was the closest she would ever have.

How foolish she had been to think that.

Half of her guards from Runestone had been with her nearly all her life.

Ser Adrew, who had played with her and made her smile.

Ser Christor Hardyng had always asked her countless questions when she returned from the library or her lessons. At first, she had found it irritating, as though she was being forced to attend another lesson. Over time, she realized that not only was he genuinely curious, having received little education in his own youth, but that teaching him what she had been taught had helped her to retain her knowledge. It meant that on the few occasions when Aemond could not recall an answer, she usually could.

Ser Ruban Woodhull was the most protective. He had always accompanied her to the Dragonpit, never fully trusting the great beasts to not harm her. When she rode through the city, he kept his horse near her window and glared at anyone – noble or lowborn – who looked at her too long. The first few times Aemond had snuck into her rooms, it had been Ruban who pinned him to the wall. Convincing him that the Prince meant no harm had been no easy task.

Ser Sterlan Coldwater, despite his gruff appearance, could always be counted on to serve as an accomplice when she and Aemond needed a mischievous hand. Whether it be keeping watch as they snuck into the kitchen for an extra serving of dessert, distracting the librarians so they could keep reading well after their curfew, or even sending a secret raven to Kiran earlier that day, he was always eager to volunteer to help.

Ser Simon Mullynn was always melancholy, but that was no bad thing. When she had been sad, sometimes what had helped the most was him simply sitting silently by her side, letting her know she was not alone. He even, on the occasions when she was genuinely despondent, held her hand. It was the most emotion she had ever seen from him, the most vulnerability he ever showed. Knowing that he trusted her so always made her feel better.

And dear Ser Warren Crayne. Ever steadfast, she could hardly remember a time when he was not by her side. From her first flight on Emrys to her banishment to Dragonstone, he was always there. Offering fatherly advice, providing support when she needed it most, and flashing a reassuring smile with a twinkle in his eyes.

No, Arianwyn did not have a father. She had six.

And she would never take them for granted again.

“Prince Aemond will be waiting for you,” Ser Adrew said, gently pulling away from the embrace. He smoothed the shoulders of her dress and straightened a few stray curls before reaching for the door. “I know this may be asking too much of two newlyweds, but please, try and get some rest.”

-

“Prince Aemond is already abed, Princess,” Kiran said, looking up from the fire with soot smudged on his cheeks.

He was sweeping out the hearth, the fire long extinguished. With his right arm perpetually in a sling – the limb had been stunted and weak from birth – he had to secure the dustpan against his knee. While Arianwyn felt the urge to offer her help, she soon realized it was unnecessary; he had the task well in hand.

When he saw the tired, sad look on Arianwyn’s face, his eyes went wide, and he stammered to try and offer what comfort he could from his place on the floor. “I believe he is still awake, though. Likely reading.”

“Thank you, Kiran,” she replied. “For all your help today, you’ve been wonderful.”

Blushing under the praise, he ducked his head back to the hearth. “Just trying to do my best for the Prince. To do what I can to thank him.”

That was a thread that Arianwyn was desperate to follow. But like her thanks to Ser Adrew, it would have to wait until she was not so tired, and every bone in her body was aching for her husband.

“Elsie, could you help me prepare for bed?” she asked the young maid sitting at the table, relacing her riding leathers. “I would do it myself, but there is every possibility that I may fall asleep on the dressing room floor. I will need your help to prevent that.”

The girl could barely suppress a smile. “Of course, Princess.”

Mercifully, Elsie was gentle and quiet, speaking only when necessary to keep Arianwyn awake. Otherwise, she only hummed faintly as she combed the knots from the Princess’ hair, rubbed meadowsweet oil into her skin, and clothed her in a soft cotton nightdress.

Arianwyn’s eyes were half-closed when she stood from the vanity and swayed slightly on her feet.

“Can you make it to the bed on your own,” Elsie asked, “or should I guide you?”

“I can make it,” Arianwyn assured, patting her hand on Elsie’s. “You and Kiran can retire for tonight. There will be plenty of time in the morning for relacing, and I have never seen the point of cleaning a hearth only to light a new fire the next day.”

Elsie laughed as she exited the dressing room. “There is a purpose for it, your Highness, but I will save that explanation for another day.”

Arianwyn wasted no time in pushing through the other door, the one that led straight to their bedchamber.

And there he was. She would never tire of that sight.

Aemond was reclining on the bed with a large book in his hands. He wore no bedclothes. He never did, for he ran too hot. Or at least that’s what he always said. But it went beyond that.

Everywhere he went, for nearly all his life, he felt as though he was wearing a costume. That of a dutiful son and Prince, a calculating warrior, and a fierce dragonrider. The only time he ever truly felt like himself was when he was alone or with Arianwyn.

Once she was taken from him, the only place he could escape his endless life of masks was alone in his bedchamber. Here, he would only be himself. No green clothing, no blades, no leathers, and no eyepatch. The one item he never took off was his sapphire, for it reminded him of Arianwyn, the only person to ever truly see him as he was.

He made no move to cover himself for her – why should he? She had seen all of him, inside and out. So, instead, he only smiled as she entered. “I thought for a moment you would not return until morning. Did you read them the entire book?”

The sound of his voice brought some life back into Arianwyn’s veins, but she still collapsed onto the bed beside him. She burrowed into the furs and blankets he had piled on her side, leaving only a sheet for him, and pressed into his chest.

“Just the one story,” she mumbled. “The Red Wolf.”

“Mmm,” Aemond frowned as he made a sarcastic sound. “Yes, I remember that one. And how did the children like it?”

Arianwyn wrapped her arm around his waist and squeezed, perhaps a little tighter than she needed to, but she was dissatisfied with his tone. “Jaehaera and Maelor had no complaints, and Jaehaerys and I had a wonderful discussion.”

“It must have been for it to keep you away for so long.”

As quickly as his presence had relaxed her, his words now made her tense once more.

Aemond felt it – her jaw clenched against his shoulder, her fingers curled slightly against his side, and her breath hitched. “Aria, what’s wrong?”

She didn’t want to say. But she had to.

“I went to see the King,” she whispered.

Now, Aemond tensed. He knew his father was in a poor state. His mother had asked him to go to his chambers to say goodbye. But he had nothing to say to that man. Or rather, he had too much to say.

But Arianwyn had gone. She had spoken to him. She had been stronger than Aemond to face the man who caused them so much suffering.

He wanted to know what happened. And he didn’t. He wanted to ask how the King was. And he didn’t. He wanted to know what she had said. And he didn’t.

He was afraid to know anything more. And he was afraid to remain in ignorance.

“Will you read to me?” Arianwyn asked softly, beginning to trace a Rune on his chest. In his current state of mind, he had no idea which.

Aemond looked down at her, confused by the timing and content of her request. “It is a book of military strategy – not to your interests.”

“I don’t care,” she declared as she pushed further into his chest and tightened her arms around him, wanting to be as close to him as possible. “I just want to hear your voice.”

Her presence and touch cooled him and slowed the frantic beating of his heart. He stared at his page, waiting for the text to come back into focus before he began. “A siege should always be considered the final measure, to be taken only when all other superior tactics have failed.”

Arianwyn closed her eyes, allowing all her senses to fade away while she focused entirely on the sound of his voice. Low but gentle. Quiet but firm. Every word, every syllable, was carefully pronounced. He could be reading absolute nonsense, and still, it would soothe her.

“Few armies have ever possessed the resources necessary to come out of a siege with a true victory. Even if the cloistered enemy is defeated, the victors often emerge having suffered not only a loss of life but of something far more dangerous: morale.”

His voice hitched once, when Arianwyn’s hand began moving against his chest again. She did not trace Runes, only nonsensical shapes that, he quickly noticed, began moving lower and lower as he read.

“Both knights and soldiers are creatures of war. They require action as much as food and blood as much as water. To force them to stand idle is cruelty. Should the siege last too long, not even the whirlwind of bloodshed that ends it will – Gods, Aria!”

Her hand had left his chest and made its way around his swiftly hardening member. She stroked him slowly, lazily, as if she was only doing so to keep her hand busy as she listened to him. It was entirely maddening.

“Keep reading, please,” she said with infuriating innocence.

“Aria…”

“Please?” she asked again as she finally opened her eyes to look at him. She continued her ministrations, running her thumb over his tip to collect the bead of precum gathered there, seemingly unmoved by his subsequent groan of desire.

But there was such desperation in her silver eyes that Aemond could not refuse her. “…not even the whirlwind of bloodshed that ends it will sate them, making the force harder to control and more likely to fight recklessly.”

“It is for this reason that a siege must be ended as swiftly as possible. History shows us that after ten days, the damage to company morale is ir-” he could not stifle his moan when Arianwyn sat up, momentarily releasing him, and removed her nightdress. Her nipples were already peaked, and he could spot glistening wetness between her folds as she climbed across the bed to straddle his thighs.

She stopped with her hand hovering over him. “Keep reading,” she insisted.

He knew she would not move unless he obeyed. This newfound confidence was thrilling. Just the sight of her above him had his cock twitching and hips rolling to try and find friction. But she pushed his hips back to the bed with both hands, holding him in place until he began again.

“…the damage to company morale is irreparable.” The moment he began to read, her hand resumed pumping his length, and it took all his strength to remain focused on the words. There was no restraint left to stop him from rutting into her hand and squeezing her between his legs to try and coax her closer to where he wanted her.

“However, there have been examples in history… Aria! …there have been examples wherein a siege upon a useless target has been successfully utilized as bait to draw out a more desirable… f-fuck, Aria! … a more desirable one.”

Arianwyn had inched herself forward and released his cock from her hand only to begin grinding it against her wet folds. In the back of his mind, Aemond realized what she was doing and wanted desperately to guide her. She had never taken him with so little preparation. But his vision had narrowed to see only the book before him and her breasts bouncing above it.

“Keep reading,” she commanded again. She could not look away from his face. His violet eye flicking incessantly between his book and her. His slackened jaw working desperately to form words despite each tantalizing brush of her skin against his. And his beautiful lips trembling as he struggled to speak.

But speak he did, each word sounding gruffer than the last, each syllable sending a thrill down her spine. She had read to him so often in the past, but this was the first time he had read to her – and it certainly would not be the last.

“A small target, such as a farming village or small port, can be targeted by a larger invading force. It is recommended to have – at a minimum – two men for each opponent within the target’s walls – Aria!” She was immensely glad she sent Kiran and Elsie away, for he screamed then, as she guided herself down onto his length.

He had always taken such care to prepare her to take him, as he was so large and she so inexperienced. But she had distracted him too well, and he had no time to bring her to release even once.

The stretching sensation was more intense than ever, even when he had taken her from behind. She lowered herself slowly, stopping when the pressure was too much to allow her time to adjust. But she never waited long.

Aemond could not form a single word until he was fully sheathed inside her. But, even then, only one escaped his lips, over and over: “Aria!”

She was too stunned by the feeling and sight of him below her to move. He had been pressing against the headboard so often and so hard that hair formed a tangled halo around his head, and his eye was glazed over as he looked up to her, a pleading in his brow that he could not express in his blissful state.

But she did not know what to do next. When Brynna had briefly, in her poppy-addled stupor, mentioned riding Aemond, the Queen had silenced her so quickly that Arianwyn did not have the chance to glean any details as to how.

All she could do was listen to the needs of her own body and hope they would satisfy him as well.

Unsure whether she could lift herself onto her knees so soon after the exertion of lowering herself so slowly, she settled for rolling her hips back and forth to start.

At her very first gyration, Aemond shouted and dropped the book, sending it tumbling to the floor. He reached for her, grabbing her by the shoulder and pulling her against him for a demanding kiss.

Gods, they had not kissed yet. The realization surged through her as their lips met, and he devoured her with teeth and tongue. She returned the same passion he showed her, moaning at the kiss and the pleasure their new position brought.

By pulling her against his chest while he was propped against the head of the bed, Aemond had inadvertently found an angle where the tip of his cock pressed perfectly against that spongy spot inside of her that brought stars to her eyes. Not only that, but her clit was also finding friction against him and the wispy white hair at the base of his cock.

She ground down on his hips, pressing harder and harder against that spot. Then, once she was sure of the angle, she cautiously lifted herself up and down, savoring the sensation of being filled over and over again, and the warm pounding against her most sensitive spot.

“Aria,” Aemond moaned against her lips, trying valiantly to help her in her ministrations, but his arms were too weakened by his pleasure. There was nothing in the world but the feeling of being inside her and the soft noises she made each time she fell back against his hips.

“Keep reading,” she pled, knowing that the sound of his voice was the only thing that could increase her pleasure.

He groaned, “I dropped the book, Aria.”

“Please,” she begged, gazing into his eye. “I need to hear you.”

“Iksā gevie,” he said, rolling his hips up to meet hers with each syllable. You are beautiful.

She gasped, falling forward until her forehead was pressed against his. Her hips never stopped as she clasped his jaw in one hand and supported herself with the other braced on the bed.

“Tolī, Aemond,” she whined. “Ivestragon tolī, kostilus.” More. Say more, please.

He obliged as he began fucking up into her in earnest, infinitely pleased when she returned his vigor from above. “Iksā vok. Iksā se qēlossās. Iksā se hūra. Iksā se vēzos.” You are perfect. You are the stars. You are the moon. You are the sun.

Her desperate whimpers turned into cries of euphoria as he continued, feeling her walls clamp down on him as they both neared their climax.

“Iksā tolvie run sȳz isse se udir.  Se Avy jorrāelan.  Avy jorrāelan lēda mirre bona iksan.  Avy jorrāelan, Aria.  Avy jorrāelan, Avy jorrāelan, Avy jorrāelan!” You are everything good in the world. And I love you. I love you with all that I am. I love you, Aria. I love you, I love you, I love you!

He came just breaths after her, hands seizing her hips to hold her steady as she shuddered against his chest, wrapping her arms around his neck as they both slid down the headboard to lie flat on the bed.

Arianwyn was so exhausted by the emotions of the day and her release that she could not even bring herself to roll off of Aemond’s chest nor pull any blankets over them. She just lay there, inhaling in his scent and listening to the sounds of his heaving breath.

But Aemond had finally returned to at least some of his senses, lifting her limp body off him so he could fetch a cloth to clean them both. As he worked, she stared at his face with bleary but reverent eyes.

“Avy jorrāelan, tolī, Aemond,” she said, the particulars of Valyrian pronunciation lost as she slipped closer and closer to sleep. “Avy jorrāelan sīr olvie bona kostan renigon ao isse ñuha ānogar.  Avy jorrāelan, se nyke jorrāelagon naejot gīmigon bona ao gīmigon ziry.” I love you, too, Aemond. I love you so much that I can feel you in my blood. I love you, and I need to know that you know it.

Though she had fallen well asleep by the time Aemond set the cloth aside and slipped back into the bed beside her, pulling her flush against his chest, he replied, nevertheless.

“Nyke gīmigon ziry, Aria.  Se issa skoros tepagon nyke ābrar,” he whispered as sleep came for him as well. I know it, Aria. And it is what gives me life.

Next Chapter

[partystoragechest]

A story of romance, drama, and politics which neither Trevelyan nor Cullen wish to be in.

Canon divergent fic in which Josephine solves the matter of post-Wicked Hearts attention by inviting invites four noblewomen to compete for Cullen's affections. In this chapter, Trevelyan has someone she'd like to impress.

(Masterpost. Beginning. Previous entry. Next entry. Words: 3,893. Rating: all audiences, bar a few swears.)

Chapter 42: The Ball

“Pre-senting..!”

The stage was set, the Great Hall adorned in its finest. A band played upon the dais, the floor before them awaiting its dancers. Every candle was lit, every banner unfurled—each one proudly displaying the sigil of the Inquisition.

This was their party. People of all ranks were in attendance. Advisors and dignitaries, to soldiers and mages. All, except for four.

The door thundered open. A chamberlain cried their names:

“Lady Erridge of West Coldon, Lady Samient of Samient, Baroness Touledy of Val Misrenne..!”

The Ladies strode in, none finer than they. Lady Erridge wore her pinkest, most ruffliest dress yet; Lady Samient wore her tightest, of dark, snakish leather; the Baroness wore her most glamorous, a gown in passionate red—with mahogany cane to match, of course.

“...and Lady Trevelyan, of Ostwick!”

Trevelyan emerged, last of all. The ballgown she wore? Unrecognisable.

The black brocade was gone, the lace ripped from its seams with wicked delight. All that remained was perfect canvas of purest navy, onto which it could be painted—with shining, silvery thread.

Her mother would’ve fumed at the very idea. But what good was learning embroidery, if one did not use it in defiance?

Each Lady had taken up a quadrant of her own, yet the stitches they sewed were all the same: dozens upon dozens of tiny, shimmering, stars.

Trevelyan sparkled with every step. Diamonds glittered around her neck, lent eagerly by the Baroness. Every candle’s flame glistened upon her.

Even the night sky could not compare.

Were it not for the band, the room would have been stunned to silence. Whispers of admiration made their circuit. Trevelyan joined the other Ladies, all of them frightfully pleased with their handiwork—and quite rightly, too.

“So this is what you were all up to yesterday?” asked the arriving Lady Orroat—herself in fine doublet and breeches—laying her eyes upon the dress for the very first time. “It’s beautiful!”

A look of panic came over Lady Erridge. “I did those ones!” she blurted, her pointing finger at some collection of stars.

The Baroness laughed at such a display. “Yes, Lady Erridge is indeed a fine seamstress.”

“Oh, certainly,” Orroat agreed, placing a kiss upon her seamstress’ hand, quelling her worry in an instant. “Always has been.”

Amused, Lady Samient whispered to Trevelyan: “Seems her Ladyship has reversed her position on your knowing Lady Orroat.”

Trevelyan giggled. “Good. For I could hardly say we should make such as handsome couple as they.”

The Ladies settled, the partygoers returned to business—yet the music that accompanied their conversation furrowed into quiet. Attention was drawn to the dais from whence it had come, as the ever-elegant Lady Montilyet took her place upon it.

“Friends of the Inquisition!” she called. “Thank you for coming. I do not wish to keep you from your pleasures, so this will not be long—but, if you shall indulge me, I would like to say a fond farewell, to some of our departing guests.”

She raised a glass in the direction of the Ladies, and sang their praises each.

Lady Erridge and Lady Orroat were wished all the best, for the wedding that was to come, and for the future of their Coldon, reunited by love. They took each other’s hands, met one another’s doting gaze, and held tight.

The Baroness was sent hope, for a swift victory in Val Misrenne—but also admiration. She had more than proven why she was capable of defying the Chantry so: a steadfast determination, that they should all aspire to. With a smile, the Baroness bowed.

Lady Samient’s message was subtle. A safe journey home, all she was promised—but those who knew, knew what that meant. Absent-minded, the Lady reached for and toyed with the pendant at her neck, a twisting halla’s horn.

“Of course,” Montilyet continued, “one of our guests is to remain. Gathered friends, may I please introduce to you our new Arcanist”—she held her glass high—“Lady Trevelyan of Ostwick!”

Applause went up, echoing off the walls, filling the room with joy. Trevelyan laughed in delight, and caught glimpses of her friends amongst the rabble. Varric’s arms flew up; somewhere, Dorian hollered; even Sera clapped—though none, it seemed, were as enthusiastic as Dagna herself!

“Tonight, we celebrate!” Montilyet declared. “So please, enjoy!”

The band launched into triumphant fanfare; good humour and good company were the orders of the evening. The Ladies, all aflutter, went about these goals with giddiness and verve.

“Won’t you come dance?” asked Lady Erridge, having already roped her fiancee into it.

Trevelyan smiled, but shook her head. “Later,” she told her. “There’s someone I wish to see, first.”

Lady Samient picked up her slack. “Come, Lady Erridge!” she offered, instead. “I’ll dance with you.”

Appeased, Lady Erridge escorted her away. Trevelyan was left to withdraw from the dancefloor, and wander towards the more stationary attendees. Her eyes flitted from person to person, searching for one in particular.

A hand caught her shoulder. The Baroness, apparently having already procured a drink, leant over, and tilted it forward.

“There,” she whispered.

The crowd parted, as if by her will. True to her word, at the other end of the room, was stood precisely the man Trevelyan had been looking for.

Commander.

Maker, he had only become more handsome the longer she had known him. That rough-hewn jaw of his, a dishevelment of stubble upon it; the subtle waves in his hair, hints of his rebellious curls; those dimples upon his cheeks—the thumb-prints of the divine, left where the Maker’s scultping hand had gone astray.

And his weary eyes, whose gentle gaze found her, and drew her closer.

Trevelyan admired, as she approached, the coincidence of the navy blue doublet that Lady Montilyet had undoubtedly advised him to wear. Hm. She liked him better in red. Suited him more, perhaps.

Though truly, it mattered little. There was nothing that could dull the shine of him; true gold, after all, did never rust.

He straightened to greet her, a little smile pulling at his mouth. And he would have greeted her, perhaps warmly, perhaps sweetly—had a scout, uniformed and on duty, not appeared at his side.

Ah, fuck.

They whispered something to him, below the hubbub that came back into focus. Trevelyan crept nearer, but heard nothing of the Commander’s reply. Yet, when the he looked to her again, his smile was gone.

“Arcanist,” he said, with a bow. “I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse me. Urgent business.”

Bloody typical.

“Of course,” she told him, magnanimously. “Duty calls.”

“At inconvenient times,” he added.

“No duty is ever convenient.”

That seemed to amuse him, at least. “True. I will try to return soon,” he told her. “I assure you.”

“Yes, Commander.”

She curtsied to him, and allowed him to depart. The scout had lingered by the rotunda door. The Commander followed them through.

Gone.

Trevelyan looked down at her pretty, sparkly skirt, and fluffed it up, pointlessly. Not quite the moment she’d been hoping for.

Oh, well. She would have plenty of time for moments with him in the coming days. If he didn’t get called away by something or other during those, too.

Stowing her frustration, Trevelyan returned to the party. There was plenty more to do, besides.

She watched the Ladies dance, and clapped along. She saw Dagna, who was endlessly excited for the things to come. She met with Lady Montilyet, and spoke of her new quarters (ready tomorrow)! And she found Dorian, who was, as always, terribly good conversation.

Yet still no Commander.

The noise of the band and the chatter and the stomps of the dancing were beginning to blur in her brain. Dorian noted her change in temperament, as she peered out of the door to the garden. No. Too many in attendance; the party had spilled out into it. It was no less busy out there than it was in here.

“Try up there,” Dorian suggested, indicating the mezzanine above. It seemed Sera had been banned from it today, as no there was no skulking to be seen. “It has a balcony, if you need some air.”

“Thank you,” said Trevelyan. She’d had little cause to ever stray up there before—but now seemed as good a reason as any. “I shall see you later.”

Dorian waved, off to see the Baroness. Trevelyan found her way around the dancefloor, and escaped up the stairs.

The moment she reached their peak, already was she calmer. Even mere feet above the maelstrom, the music came quieter, and the conversation mere ambience. Better.

Her attention turned to the mezzanine. It was furnished well for a somewhat hidden space, with a luxurious chaise and portraits of figures Trevelyan did not quite recognise. The candleabrum here were not lit, leaving all illumination to that of the moons, who trickled their glow through a pair of glass doors—beyond which, as promised, was a balcony.

But Trevelyan felt at ease enough to stay inside for now; and indeed, she found the view of the party below to be quite of interest. The dancers, from above, weaved such wonderful patterns. Outfits, in all colours, were arrayed like a painter’s palette. She could watch, as those she knew flitted from one group, to another. An enjoyable pict—

The rotunda door opened, drawing her eye. The Commander. He strode into the party with such determination, it was as if it did not even exist around him. Trevelyan followed his path, as it led him, direct, to the Baroness.

They moved to the side. He whispered something. Urgent business? Oh, no.

But the Baroness smiled. Wider and wider. She asked him something; he nodded. She placed a hand over her heart, and sighed. Trevelyan did the same.

She took a step back, from the barrier. If the news they shared was what she hoped, then she was rather glad she hadn’t kicked up a fuss at his departure. Because if it was what she hoped, then it would be well worth it.

She had to see the Baroness.

And she would have, if not for the feet hurrying up the stairs. The Baroness? No cane. Then—!

The Commander appeared at the landing, startling himself as much as he startled her. Determination abandoning him in an instant, he padded onto the mezzanine, and did his best to bow.

“Arcanist,” he said. “Forgive me, Dorian told me you were here.”

Crafty bastard. Still, she asked, “Is everything all right, Commander? Your urgent business?”

He smiled—such a relieving smile—and nodded. “Yes. The Inquisitor has reported in.” She could hardly believe his next words: “We have victory. Val Misrenne is safe.”

As she’d hoped. Better, even. Trevelyan brought a hand to her mouth, a beaming smile beneath it. She shook her head, out of sheer incredulity. By Andraste. She could not fathom how dear Touledy felt.

“Thank the Maker,” she breathed. “Or, I suppose—thank you, Commander.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I think it is the Inquisitor and the Baroness’ forces who should have the credit of it.”

“Very true. Though your involvement is still very much appreciated.”

Compliments did not seem to sit well within him; he kept his gaze askance, mouth struggling to form a reply. Awkwardness prevailed, ‘til his fortune changed, and his eyes chanced upon the balcony doors.

“Forgive me, I didn’t meant to disturb you—her Ladyship, the Baroness, thought you should know. You were… headed outside?”

Trevelyan followed his gaze. She smiled. “Preferably not alone.”

“Oh. I could—”

Trevelyan stepped for the doors; he followed. They opened—a portal—to the tranquil night beyond.

The stars shone in greeting. Trevelyan curtsied; an acknowledgement of their mutual beauty. She found relaxation upon the finely-carved stone of the balcony balustrade, and felt the Commander’s presence, a warmth in the absence of the sun, as he came to rest beside her.

“It’s... a nice night,” he said.

“Yes,” she replied, “and a lovely view.”

The entire courtyard was laid out before them, from the tavern—as lively as the party they’d left behind—to the stables—quiet, at this time of day. Moonlit stone, punctuated by glowing torchlight. Beautiful, truly.

Yet it seemed the Commander’s focus was elsewhere, for his hand fumbled within his jacket.

“I, ah, have something,” he told her, “that I believe is yours.”

At last, he seemed to locate it, and freed it from its concealment. White cloth, that flashed in the moonlight. Embroidered, with leaves Trevelyan recognised.

It was far cleaner than the last time she’d seen it.

Trevelyan smiled. The little napkin slipped pleasantly from his fingers, and into her own. She noted the warmth of his proximity, still lingering within the weave, and the sweet, earthy scent that had been left by his possession.

“Technically,” she teased, “I believe it is Lady Montilyet’s.”

“I hardly think she’ll miss it.”

“I certainly hope so.” She tucked it away—safe. “Thank you, Commander.”

“Thank you for the use of it,” he said. “Though, speaking of Lady Montilyet, I had hoped to say—you took the offer... to become Arcanist.”

“I did.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

The Commander stammered, “For you—I mean. I mean, I am glad. That—despite how you came to be here—you have found enough reason to stay.”

Trevelyan laughed a little. It seemed as though he had a mountain to climb whenever they spoke. She appreciated his attempt to scale the peak regardless.

“Plenty of reasons,” she told him. “I know that I ought to have left, and truly have started my life afresh… but that would have been dishonest, to what I truly want.”

“May I ask… what is it?”

“What?”

The Commander almost met her eye. “That you… want?”

She bit back the smile that threatened to betray her. The night air wasn’t cold, but she hid goose-bumps upon her skin. “Well… I suppose there is one thing—”

Feet clattered up the stairs. Trevelyan stopped herself, turning just in time to see, stumbling into the doorway, a giddy Lady Erridge.

“Lady Trevelyan!” she called. “Oh, Commander, there you are! I came to see if you wanted to dance!”

The Commander shook his head. “I’m… No, thank you. I don’t really dance.”

Erridge giggled. “I know! I wasn’t asking you, Commander! Come, Lady Trevelyan! The Commander shall have plenty of time to whisper with you when we are gone!”

Though the interruption was not exactly ideal, Trevelyan could not deny the sentiment. She curtsied to the Commander, somewhat apologetically.

“It seems I am summoned away. Urgent business, I believe they call it.”

The corner of his mouth tilted upward; it made her skin tingle. “Another time, then.”

“Of course.”

Trevelyan permitted Lady Erridge to take hold of her hand. The Lady threw a quick farewell to the Commander over her shoulder, and whisked Trevelyan away, tumbling down the stairs. They burst back onto the main floor of the hall, just as the band queued up another jig.

“Come on, come on!” Lady Erridge ordered, pulling Trevelyan into the congregating mass of dancers. Already amongst them were Lady Samient and Lady Orroat, left to partner up by the absent Erridge.

“Over here!” they called, of a little clearing beside them. Trevelyan and Erridge took position, all anticipation. They joined hands—properly now—and waited for the song to start.

And start it did! Strings and wind erupted into a prancing melody of alternating highs and lows. Trevelyan followed her Ladyship’s lead, bouncing around the floor, clapping her hands, kicking her legs into the air. Skirts clashed and flew, an explosion of fabric and colour.

It was a wonder how Lady Samient danced it so well, in a dress so constricting—but dance well she did! As hands parted and partners changed, Trevelyan found herself parading around in the arms of said Lady, each of them smiling up a storm.

As one song ended, so another began. She was to dance with Lady Orroat, too, of course—it was only fair—and then dear Erridge wanted another.

Eventually, quite exhausted, Trevelyan took the next song’s end, and made her exit.

Fortunately, she found the Baroness on the edges of the dancefloor, an audience to their frolicking. She greeted Trevelyan with a smile and an embrace—for which they both knew the reason.

“I am so glad for you,” Trevelyan said, as she recovered her breath. “Are you all right?”

The Baroness nodded. “Relieved. When I leave tomorrow, I know I will be returning to my town at peace. But—this has not come without loss. It is not over, not truly.”

“Of course.”

“But we could have lost so much more. That Val Misrenne and its people still stand is worth celebrating.”

“Absolutely.”

Trevelyan hugged her once more, yet the music’s sudden and effervescent return caused her to jump. With a laugh, she glanced back to the dancers.

“You know, I am surprised Lady Erridge has not called you up for a jig!”

The Baroness chuckled. “No, no, my leg is far too frail for that.”

“Really?” said Trevelyan, glancing to it. “I remember you saying you still dance, once.”

“I do.” She grinned. “But the leg is an excellent excuse.”

Trevelyan caught her meaning. “Lady Erridge’s enthusiasm is quite difficult to match.”

“Indeed. She has the stamina of a demon. Though I’m sure Lady Orroat could find some use for that.”

Trevelyan laughed. “Your Ladyship! Please, I feel so terrible teasing her!”

“Then you should not like to hear what we say about you and him.”

Confused by who ‘him’ was, Trevelyan followed the Baroness’ line of sight, to a nearby throng of guests. Weaving between them, was—she should’ve guessed it—the Commander.

“Oh, Maker…” Trevelyan groaned. “You all have far too—”

She turned back, and realised the Baroness’s mouth was half-open, her cane being raised in the air.

“No, no—!”

“Commander!”

He heard the call. His head whipped round. No stopping it now: he was headed in their direction.

“Baroness!” Trevelyan hissed.

Touledy smiled, gave a suggestive flick of her brow, and said nothing more. Though Trevelyan was almost glad of this—the Commander ought not hear anything she had to say right now.

“Ladies,” he greeted, upon arrival. “Is there something you require?”

“Why, yes,” said Touledy, all too confidently. What was she up to? “Lady Trevelyan here wishes another dance, but I am afraid I am unable to”—she flashed her cane—“would you be able to dance with her Ladyship, in my stead?”

“Oh.” The Commander softened. "Are you all right?”

Trevelyan noted, rather indignantly, that the Commander asked this question with the same sort of gentle voice that he often put on for her. This was a concept which, she suddenly discovered, she did not like. Why, oh why, did she have to make him befriend the other Ladies? Fool.

“Yes, thank you,” the Baroness answered. “But her Ladyship must have a dance.”

Trevelyan rolled her eyes. “But Baroness, the Commander does not like to dance.”

“I could try,” he said.

Trevelyan stared at him. There were a thousand questions she thought of in response to his saying this. But somehow, the only one she could quite manage was:

“What?”

He repeated the sentiment: “If you would like to.”

“Oh.” Well, there was little chance of her saying anything other than: “Yes.”

The Baroness smiled, clearly relishing in the success. “Go on, then,” she said, “enjoy.”

Easier said. At least Trevelyan had done enough jigs with Lady Erridge to know what she was to do with them, now. In her mind, as they walked to the floor, she went over the steps. Left, left, kick, clap. Switch. Then to the right? But—

The music grew in volume. Yet it sounded like no jig she’d ever heard. Trevelyan realised that the band had betrayed her. Not a jig. Not at all.

Sweet, slow strings floated across the hall. A… romantic melody, that had couples approaching the floor. Dear Maker fucking Andraste shitting Void.

People linked hands and put them on waists and Trevelyan realised that she was in the midst of it now, surrounded, and there was no escape, and she would have to do those things herself.

She faced the Commander. Maker, why did he have to look like that and be like this? This sort of thing was far simpler with unimportant suitors that one could so easily discard after, even if one did step on their toes.

He offered a hand. Trevelyan’s shook.

But still, they met.

Her fingers slid into his palm, felt the warmth that emanated beneath the leather of his glove. The feeling of his skin, however rugged or tender, was cruelly left to the imagination. She savoured it regardless.

Her other hand gathered up her skirts, like the rest of the dress-wearers were doing. Almost in position. There was simply one last thing to emulate—

The Commander’s hand moved for her waist, hesitant in its approach. The first touches of his fingertips—gentler even than that of cotton or down—caused her body to tense. She did not know how she was to bear his entire hand.

But his hand stopped short. It instead hovered over the fabric of her dress, as if afraid to press any further.

Disappointing.

Nevertheless—the music began in earnest. The dancers began to move. The Commander took a step, and Trevelyan followed. Her nerves hit a peak.

And then, began to fade.

Because dancing with him was unlike dancing with anyone she had danced with before. It felt different. Better. Warmer. Safer. It almost did not matter if she was dancing well or not. It was only him that mattered.

There was no need for extravagant moves, or flourishes of the hand. This was enough. Sweet, simple, swaying in one another’s arms. More than enough.

“You should dance more often,” she whispered to him. “You do it well.”

He smiled, soft, and simply said, “All right.”

Her words must have bolstered his resolve, for his shoulders relaxed, and his grip around her hand firmed and strengthened. Its pull drew her closer; his other slipped around her back, fitting perfectly into the mold of her body. The gap between them was more indistinct than ever.

Yet in that closeness was comfort. She could have stayed like that for an eternity.

But the music slowly, gradually, dulled away. Other dancers reappeared around them, the party audible once more. It was over.

They came to a standstill. Trevelyan’s hand fell reluctantly from his grasp; his trailed away from her waist. Yet still she smiled, for nothing could take it from her lips.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Of course,” he replied.

“I shan’t make you dance another.”

“That’s… all right.” He rubbed his neck. “Will you, ah, be stargazing tonight?”

She played with her dress. “Most likely.”

“Good.”

She curtsied, he bowed. He left, she stayed. Her feet still wobbled, a little.

But she would have to recover quickly. For she turned to her side, and saw complete what had, until now, been only a disruption in her periphery: the Ladies, gathered together, in keen observance.

Trevelyan shook her head, and, before they could open their mouths, told them firm:

“Not one word.”

[grapenehifics]

WIP Wednesday (2/3)

This WIP Wednesday is a continuation of the excerpt I shared last week (after a bunch of text about the next fic I'm posting, a GFFA canon-divergent disaster trio story called Pick Up the Pieces).

Last week, we found seventeen-year-old Anakin on a mission to Takodana going undercover as a (not very talented) gambler and card-player. Read more after the cut:

“Hey, boy!” someone called, and it took Anakin a second to realize it was the Ugnaught he’d been playing cards with, and that they were calling to him. (Anakin had chosen not to give his name, real or otherwise, on this little excursion, and no one he was playing with had turned out to be the type to care. They hadn’t given their names, either.) “Next round’s starting. We dealing you in or out?”

Anakin did some quick math in his head. “Yeah, all right,” he decided, and took his seat again. He wasn’t surprised they wanted to play with him, what with the way he’d been losing. He was an easy mark, and he knew it.

His reputation held all through the first hand, in which he was, yet again, the first to bow out. Pazaak was a game that required winning three hands to take the match, however, so the Besalisk dealt him back in for the second.

Only, his four hands were sweaty (Obi-Wan said this happened to Besalisk a lot, especially on warm planets, because their ancestral world of Ojom was an ice planet, and their species had started migrating throughout the galaxy relatively recently and hadn’t developed biological adaptations for warmer weather yet) and the cards slipped and about half the deck fell to the floor.

“Whoops,” Anakin said, and he and the Besalisk both bent down to collect them. “Let me help you, there, buddy.”

“I got it,” the Besalisk growled, and Anakin sat up, hands raised in surrender.

“Hey, all right, no harm intended,” he said. “Whenever you’re ready. I just feel a hot streak coming on, is all.”

The Ugnaught and the Trandoshan across from him at the table both laughed (well, the Trandoshan made a sound like air escaping from a punctured balloon, anyway). Anakin just smiled back placidly.

“No, really,” he continued, as the Besalisk re-shuffled the cards and started to deal. “I’ve got a really good feeling about this one.”

“Sure,” the Trandoshan lisped. She wore a badge pinned to her bandoleer that identified her as part of the Bounty Hunters Guild.

Anakin did, in fact, win that hand, the first he’d won in almost an hour. Then he immediately lost the next one, thereby erasing his lead, because now all but the Ugnaught had won a hand apiece. They played again, and Anakin got twenty exactly on his first hand.

“Read ‘em and weep!” he gloated, spreading his cards out in front of him. The Trandoshan hissed at him. The Ugnaught swore in Ugnese. The Besalisk tried to look at Anakin’s cards again, but Anakin quickly put his hand over his side deck. “Uh-uh,” he taunted. “No cheating!”

“I’m going to go get a drink,” the Trandoshan growled, and pushed her chair back from the table.

“Get me one too,” the Besalisk said, and tossed the Trandoshan a credit chip, which she caught as she stalked off toward the bar.

“This is fun!” Anakin said, crossing his arms behind his head and tipping his chair back onto just the back two legs. He ruffled his ponytail with his hand. There wasn’t a lot he could do to hide his Padawan haircut, but he’d wrapped his braid around the band that held his hair back and tucked the end underneath, so at least that was off his neck and a little less conspicuous. Plus he’d traded his usual Jedi robes for a dark pants-and-vest combo that looked a little more smuggler-y (or at least he hoped it did). He carried a blaster without any ammo in it, and before choosing a card table he’d purposefully spilled some ale on himself, both to make his clothes look a little more lived in and so that he’d smell like he’d been drinking alcohol without having to actually have any. “I think I get why you fellows like this game so much,” he continued, because his companions very much looked like they wanted him to stop talking. “I’m really glad you all taught it to me. Hey, how about this. Now that we’re friends and all. If I win this match, next round is on me, all right? Just, uh, don’t go too overboard,” he chuckled. “I am still down quite a bit to all three of you…”

He cut himself off when the Trandoshan sat down heavily, ale slopping over the rim of the glasses she’d carried over from the bar.

“…but I think my luck might be about to change,” Anakin finished.

The next game, unlike previous one, was a real nail-biter. Anakin got to start, because he’d won the last hand, but they had to go twice around the table, and the tension ratcheted with each card-flip. By the third time the draw came around to Anakin, he was ready to make his move. “Plus one,” he said, taking the top card off his side deck and ignoring the communal deck in the middle of the table.

“You cheated,” said the Besalisk.

“No I didn’t,” Anakin said. “It was right there the whole time. I was saving it for when I really needed it. And right now, I need it.”

“It wasn’t there earlier.”

“He’s hustling,” accused the Ugnaught. “I think you do know how to play this game!”

“And how would you know that,” Anakin shouted, suddenly exploding both in anger and out of his seat. He stood on his chair and whirled to face the Besalisk. “Unless you’ve been cheating, and looking at my cards!”

[spumonibones]

Chasing Wings: Memoria Chapter 13

Pairing: Xiao x Venti

First Chapter (Ao3)* ; First Chapter (Tumblr)

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Lore/Story Notes

Chapter CW: None

Update Schedule: Every Wednesday (temp hiatus until July 31, 2024)

Ao3 chapters are currently locked due to a shady site creating issues. Registered users can still read, but chapters will be posted on Tumblr for those who don't. : )

Canon Divergence AU; Other Four Yaksha Still Live; Zhongli already retired but Osial hasn't happened; Canon Typical Violence

Summary:

"To Err is Human, to Forget is Godly."

Almost 500 years ago, the Cataclysm happened. As the fires and monsters dwindled, most of the Seven had fallen. One, Barbatos, simply disappeared - and in his absence, the mourning songs of Dvalin would serenade the land of wind each yearly anniversary. The surviving Archons presumed him dead, and Monstadt presumed he simply never was. One day, before a Traveler will fish Teyvat's Best Guide from its waters, a young man named Venti is rescued by the Vigilant Yaksha. Without memory a face as familiar as it is foreign, the question then becomes... What path can one take, when new memories meet old?

!!Please sign the petition for Hoyo to cease its cultural appropriation and white-washing!!

***

Venti realized after he was already lifted into Xiao’s arms, that he had out of habit slid into the hands scooping him up. The surprise caused him to blink, a sensation in his brain akin to static shock. Why was it so much more natural when Xiao did it compared to the other yaksha? That he belonged there. Shutting his mouth, his own arms wrapping tightly around the yaksha’s neck as the cloud of energy moved them from Wangshu Inn to wherever was a ‘safe place’ to get wings cleaned. Wings with a span larger than the bard’s body length. There was a rustling of leaves and nearby flowers, and the strong, thick scent of ocean. Not quite opening his eyes yet, Venti took an extra moment to chide himself. Under no circumstances could he let himself get used to being carried around like some spoiled charge. What was he going to do if Xiao ever planned on walking him somewhere? 

…What was he going to do if Xiao had every intention to keep holding him? Why am I fixating on this? He wondered, only to blame it on how he had been woken before noon. Typically, Xiao let the bard wake on his own before collecting him. This time, Venti's shoulders were shaken, gently, and when he opened his eyes to complain was taken aback by the striking, glowing golden eyes of Xiao staring at him. For the first time in the memories he carried, Venti thought it was a sight he could wake to every morning. A thought he immediately brushed off, ignoring it in favor of getting ready. Had made the mistake of forgetting why Xiao had woken him, and in retrospect Venti realized he probably wore too many clothes?

Regardless, the second he was ready the pair repeated the same interaction. Each time, Xiao’s left arm would start by sliding beneath Venti’s thighs to under his knees. Almost immediately, his right hand was already steadying Venti’s lower back. With strength that did not match his build, Xiao would quickly slide the bard against himself and hold the other bridal style. Always in this way, careful to ensure that Venti’s head never ended up on the yaksha’s left shoulder. There was a guard or a pauldron, Venti wasn’t sure which it was supposed to be. But there was a jut of what looked like two ivory horns, one twice the size of its smaller counterpart. The bard assumed the yaksha was simply being cautious of the pokey guard. Or perhaps Xiao didn’t care if Venti got gored by accident by the horns. Maybe it was because he had the long sleeve on his left arm, that draped to the yaksha’s knees. That he was so accustomed to accommodating the sleeve, that having legs there made no difference? Whatever motivation for the consistency, it was only adding to this becoming a habit. 

“We’re here. Have you heard any of the stories about Sal Terrae? God of Salt? …Havria?” As he always did, Xiao got straight to the point. Venti was curious what prompted the need to ask a question this time, however. There was also an underlying emotion, something complex that was a mix of too many things to easily identify in tone. Blue and green eyes opened, Venti stiffening when his gaze was met with golden ones for the second time that morning. The two quickly looked away, both sides startled. 

“Sorry…” “Sorry!”

The two apologies differed in tone, but matched in timing. Venti laughed softly at their unison. “Uh… I heard a bit about the God of Salt from one of the storytellers? That she was a kind god, of whom used her powers to bless her people and to protect them? That she died to another god during the wars…?” There was always some discomfort when Venti heard himself mentioning the Archon Wars. In this instance, he assumed it was because Xiao had been alive during that time. That perhaps the discomfort was fear this was a friend of Xiao’s, and if he spoke too impolitely of her the yaksha would take offense. That was what he told himself.

“...Something like that.” Xiao said softly, those complicated emotions swirling in his eyes as he focused his gaze on the distance. Following his eyes, Venti held a breath at what he saw. It was beautiful. The pair were on a small structure of rock, surrounded by red flowers in full bloom that taller than either of the two. Below the formation was a circle of stone, the center opened up to show the river around them was flowing in a perpetual waterfall into a cavern below. Past it was the vast expanse of the river, so wide that for a moment Venti forgot it wasn’t an ocean. There was a dotting of sandbars, some holding ruins, some holding thick trees of reds. Even further into the distance was the Wangshu Inn, a thin mist obscuring parts of the building and the tree it was constructed around. To the left and the right were mountains, each leaning slightly as if parting way for anyone standing there to see much of Liyue’s beauty. Clouds of gold lined with pinks rose behind the landscape, and for that moment Venti yearned to have the hands of a painter. To capture this moment, for fear his memory couldn’t capture it well-enough for later. 

If not a mural, then he supposed he would simply have to compose the song the calm blue waters whispered to him. 

“Her name was Havria, and she was very gentle. Sal Terrae was the last of her domains, and it is also… Where she spent her last moments with her people.” Xiao’s voice was quieter, his eyes lowering. Venti shifted his gaze, always following behind the other with trepid curiosity. There, in front of the stone circle, was a tombstone showing signs of crumbling. Pieces near the bottom were becoming eroded by the tides, and at the top chunks had been knocked off. 

“This is her grave.” Venti had meant it as a question, but the words came out understanding that yes, it was. There was a nod just within that of the bard’s peripheral. 

“Her home is deeper in, this area outside is more… Like an entrance. No one will see you here, and Havria never even had the malice to curse those who took her life. It is safe. But I also understand most people fear places like these.” Xiao’s stare remained on the tombstone.

“It wouldn’t be disrespectful?” Venti clarified.

“No. I wouldn’t have brought you here if it was.” Xiao answered, his voice becoming more gentle and the waterfall in front of them beginning to take away the sound. “She’s been alone a long time…” The yaksha added, and Venti wasn’t sure if he actually heard the other speak. The bard felt his heart clench. “The Archon Wars were cruel. Nothing gentle was allowed to survive.” 

Despite the irony in what was said from who spoke it, Venti didn’t laugh. He couldn’t. Only frowned at the yaksha, who was still holding him. Who on a multitude of occasions could have simply dropped Venti the first chance he got. Yet, every time, Xiao kept hold of the bard until he was ready to be put back down. If the need to prove Xiao wrong to himself wasn’t so powerful, Venti would have tested to see just how long he would have been held. “Plenty of gentleness was allowed to survive.” Venti spoke with a sternness that, were he not feeling so heated, would have startled him. A piece of his heart trying to climb out, to share a truth that the yaksha refused to see. “I’m looking at one, right now.”

“I’m not-”

“Then throw me down into there.” Venti ordered, one hand no longer holding on so he could motion down towards the cavern below. A pair of confused gold eyes shifted from the tombstone to stare at the bard. “You know I can fly, I’ll be fine. Give me a good ol’ toss! Because otherwise, I’m starting to think you planned on carrying me down.” The accusation garnered a few stammers from the yaksha, his pointed ears turning red and his eyes trying to look at anything except Venti.

Oh, I was right? Venti thought, the beat in his chest hastening. 

“I’m not throwing you.” Was all that Xiao could manage. “I protect Liyue’s inhabitants, that’s my duty, my contract, it has nothing-” On he was going, filling the air with his excuses as Xiao kept trying to dodge seeing the kindness that he carried. With a roll of his eyes, Venti wriggled himself out of the arms that had been carrying him. Gloved hands hovered by the bard, not daring to risk the other falling through his fingers should he trip. Venti’s own bare ones took Xiao’s into a light hold, and he beamed at the other.

“Hey. Listen to me. Just because you’ve done terrible things, it doesn’t mean you’re terrible. By that logic, that would be saying some pretty cruel things about Rex Lapis, wouldn’t it?” Venti asked, poising the question in a way to hopefully at least get the other to think. “Because you’ve done a lot of really wonderful, kind things. Like what you’re about to do.” The bard gave a wink, and at his words Xiao’s flustered visage shifted quickly into fear. Letting go of Xiao, Venti kicked himself off the rock formation… And let gravity pull him downwards. Offering two peace signs with both his hands, Venti stuck out his tongue when he heard the yaksha yell out his name in annoyance and concern. Watched as Xiao leapt upwards before doing his spin to dive down in after him. 

Because that was just how Xiao was. No matter the blood on the yaksha’s hands, his heart would always yearn to save instead of kill. Xiao would spend the rest of his life slaying monsters, just so people could live. All so mortals could walk down the streets in Liyue Harbor, could travel the roads between towns… All safely, all without fear. This land’s beauty was able to thrive, because of yaksha like Xiao. 

This was not the first time that Xiao had to jump after someone to save them. This was, however, probably the first time the person he was ‘saving’ wrapped their arms around him when he reached them. Letting his wings out, Venti laughed at the confusion on Xiao’s face, lit up with the Anemo of his hair and eyes. “We’re gonna make a splash!” He yelled, laughter continuing. Not sure what else to do, Xiao wrapped Venti’s head with his arms in order to protect the bard’s skull. This is what I meant by being kind, Venti thought with a sigh. Using the Anemo, of which was all but second nature now, Venti slowed their descent considerably. The air parted the mist from the waterfall, exposing the lily pads growing thick around the edges of the cavern’s lake. He turned them from being headfirst to now being feet first as they splashed into the water. Both parted to emerge above water, hands treading to keep themselves afloat. 

“You could have hurt yourself.” Xiao grumbled at Venti, glaring in full force.

“With you around?” Venti asked incredulously. “I couldn’t if I wanted to.” He pointed out, opting to not return the angry stare attempting to burn into him. Instead, he inspected his surroundings. There was the waterfall, of course. A single tree, with no leaves and cracking bark. There was more to the cavern, leading in deeper into which algae and grass grew upon. Along the walls were hints of things growing, and he hoped it was the violetgrass that he had seen in other aerated areas. 

The scent of salt was stronger, but not overpowering. The area was dark, the hole above too small and too far to allow enough daylight to fully illuminate the area below. An idea came to Venti, his eyes lighting up figuratively and literally. 

“This isn’t wide. You could have broken a wing, you were too reckless.” Xiao’s scolding continued, and that time he had a point that Venti couldn’t refute.

“...You’re right. I apologize. I shouldn’t have let my emotions get the better of me like that.” Venti admitted, sucking in his lips and finally returning the yaksha’s look. He was sorry. Wings seemed to be a rather… Sensitive subject for the other. Piece by piece, Venti was unraveling why without having been told. 

“So long as you understand.” Xiao grumbled, refusing to look the other in the eye. Tilting his head to the side, Venti watched him with a puzzled visage. What was that for? Xiao didn’t look angry anymore. So why did he look away? “I’ll give you privacy.” Piece said, the yaksha began to swim towards the rock with the dead tree that clung to it with roots that stubbornly remained. 

“Wait!” Venti called after, awkwardly swimming after with wings that smacked the surface of the water as if to help him. This did not help. “I don’t… Know what I’m supposed to do? I thought you were helping?” There was a lack of literature on how to clean one’s own wings. There also wasn’t much literature that Venti had been able to find on how to bathe a bird as a starting point. He also suffered from eyes that far too easily found other tomes much more appealing to read. Such as collections of hymns, legends in Liyue, music theory… Topics that he was inevitably drawn to, nose buried within their pages without a thought. 

Still treading water, back to Venti, the yaksha was silent. Venti hoped he hadn’t upset the other too much. There was a chance that Xiao would leave, if only to prove a point. He had no reason to stay, and if Venti’s guess was correct then this might even dredge up painful memories. The more he learned, the more time they spent together… The more Venti suspected that, at some point, Xiao had wings of his own. Wings that the adeptus could no longer use. Eyes glowing a vibrant Anemo turquoise stared at the other’s back. The thick fabric didn’t betray the skin beneath it despite being made of a white cloth, hiding whatever secrets may or may not exist. The long sleeve attached to his left arm flowed in the water like a snake, and some guilt began to build in realization that the fabric couldn’t be easy to swim with. 

Still, Xiao paused when Venti called. Who had put it into Xiao’s mind that he was a monster, when he was so… Wonderfully, poetically, beautifully gentle? It didn’t matter, Venti decided with a deep breath, tilting his chin up to more easily breathe without accidentally drinking the water. If he accomplished nothing else, he was determined to help change the yaksha’s mind. Somehow. 

As he tread the water, Xiao had hoped Venti forgot about that. That had been too big of an ask, and he had to accept it. But… He could help, and it be okay. Right? Venti had kissed him with platonic, nonromantic affection. Humans would embrace without romantic intent. Surely Xiao could assist Venti in cleaning his wings in a perfectly normal, platonic, friendly way? I can try, he thought as he accepted the situation he found himself in. 

“Come here.” Xiao relented, changing his direction to an area of shallow water. The beaming smile that filled Venti’s face couldn’t be restrained, and he eagerly swam after the yaksha. Sitting himself on the rock first, Xiao then assisted the bard in following suit. You’re doing it again, Venti thought with amusement but dared not verbalize it. The shallower water reached their waists where they sat. Shirts, sleeves, and cape all clung to their torsos having been thoroughly soaked. Neither moved, the only light were hints of the sun from above, and the glow of pale green and deep gold. Letting his legs hang off the edge that led to a sharp drop into deeper waters, Venti lightly splashed water with feet as he waited. Silence stretched out, no instruction and nothing happening. There had to be a reason for the pause, and the bard didn’t mind waiting. There had been enough occasions in which he had to wait while Xiao rushed off to save someone or deal with a creature, this didn’t feel entirely different. Except Xiao was next to him, quiet over something.

“If this makes you uncomfortable, you don’t have to.” Venti said, offering the escape that he suspected Xiao needed. Waiting he was fine with. But now he was worried that this wasn’t a matter of Xiao trying to figure out logistics. That there might have been something more, an old wound that was being forced open. 

“I’m fine.” Xiao was unexpectedly curt in his reply, Venti turning his head with a raised brow. That was not how a ‘fine’ person would speak. Behind him, Xiao’s brows were pulled together in thought, his mouth a thin line. His ears were also very, very red and steadily spreading into cheeks. 

What was he embarrassed about?! 

What was it about wings that got the other so flustered? Venti knew he was missing something very critical here, and it bothered him that he couldn’t figure it out. 

Exhaling a shaky breath, eyes glued a bit too much on white feathers, Xiao tried to talk with a steady voice. For the most part, he was successful. For the less part, Venti caught the subtle tremble. “This’ll be easier without clothes.” This surprised Venti. Of all things, he hadn’t expected the yaksha to be flustered by partial nudity. 

Fingers underwater tapped slowly on the rock, Venti trying to find the best approach. Personally, he didn’t mind. Getting naked to get clean made sense, and there would be areas of his wings that couldn’t be reached with a shirt, corset, and cape in the way. Those same areas would be difficult to reach with his own two hands, so having Xiao to get that for him would be nice. But not nice enough to demand the yaksha do something he was so clearly uncomfortable with. Shrugging, Venti decided to be direct. The two were too far deep for him to dance around it. “Xiao. You don’t have to help, I promise. Getting naked doesn’t bother me, but I should have considered it might bother you.” 

“Bare skin doesn’t bother me. Modesty is a mortal concept.” Xiao muttered, taking in another deep breath. “I was worried it would bother you…” 

“Is that it?” Venti asked, laughing. The red on Xiao was starting to recede, fading the more he controlled his breathing. “Don’t stress about me. Hard to get embarrassed when there isn’t much to look at!” He joked playfully about himself. Reassured that was all, Venti immediately set about removing the top half of his attire. The second problem Venti discovered about his leap into the water, was as he removed the corset the sudden understanding the leather was probably not going to take kindly to this treatment. Eyes searched around the cavern, trying to locate a rock or something to put it on. The dead tree was next to the waterfall, and would do nothing to give the corset a chance to recover. There wasn’t really anything. With a pout, he bundled up the clothes he removed, and with Anemo shot it far enough to land in a wet squelch on the rock that was the mouth of the underground cave. Taking his cap off, he slid one side of the rim on his pointer finger, and pulled it back with the other hand’s thumb and finger. Squinting in mockery of aiming, he released it with more Anemo to propel it far enough to land on the pile. 

There was no reason to take his shorts or stockings off, but he did choose to remove his shoes. That was going to be terrible to walk in later. Wait! I can dry it off! With my abilities! Excitement filling his chest, Venti may have sent his poor shoes a bit further than where his clothes were. The misfire couldn’t dampen his spirits, not much could. Discovering he could magic away wet stockings in equally wet shoes into dry ones was empowering. Delighting in his increasing skills in Anemo, Venti took a peak towards Xiao to see if his mentor took any notice. Standing up, Xiao was focused on twisting out the long sleeve he had removed. To Venti’s surprise, he also took off his top. The shirt had been rather skin tight to begin with, and the flesh beneath looked the same as what was implied. There were a few scars, some that dipped down while others were more raised. Venti did note that he couldn’t really see any of Xiao’s back, and he wondered if that was intentional. The shirt itself had already been wringed out, and was now draped over the yaksha’s non-tattooed shoulder. The long sleeve joined it shortly. To the side resting on rocks, were Xiao’s gloves, the shoulder guard, and the long fabric that was draped down the front of his legs. Standing in only his pants and necklace, Xiao had an almost casual appearance. 

It was… Pleasant. 

Shifting his thoughts away from how nice Xiao looked, Venti put his attention back onto his feet, still inside his wet stockings. Attempted to ignore the heat that was growing on his cheeks. Soon as his gaze was off the yaksha, Venti could hear Xiao walking through the water to add his remaining attire to the pile. He doesn't want me to see, Venti thought. Could feel the yaksha’s side-eye, ensuring no peeks were being snuck his way. Fine, he wouldn’t look. But, on the subject of visibility… Closing his eyes, tilting his head back, Venti encouraged the breeze around them. Let the Anemo energy slip out of him subtly, let it entice all those little elemental creatures to the pair and cool his face off. The dimness of the cavern would make it hard for Xiao to see, Venti reasoned. There was a smile on his lips even so, all-too aware that the real reason wasn’t for the sake of sight. 

Finished, Xiao joined Venti in sitting down. “Are you certain you’re okay with me… Touching your wings?” The yaksha had to raise his voice in order to be heard over the waterfall, hesitance and wonder all rolled into one.

“Your touch is nice, Xiao. I like it.” Venti found himself saying, glowing eyes opening up and gleamed with the same softness as his words. Then he heard the words that left his mouth, and felt heat flood every inch of his body. “Y-You’re very gentle, it’s fine!” He added in a rush, hoping the other wouldn’t read too much into that. If Venti was lucky, the waterfall’s noise would make Xiao mishear it as something else. An incomprehensible statement, that was far from what was actually said. 

“If you’re sure.” Xiao was still hesitant, which was frustrating because did he hear or not? On repeat, Venti tried to convince himself the other didn’t. That Xiao was too easily flustered, and if he had heard correctly would have teleported away or something. “...Venti?” The yaksha asked, and in spite of the embarrassment, Venti’s smile returned in full force. Fluttering in from above were the Anemo crystalflies, the anemograna, and a few other glowing creatures. Venti was quite pleased to see how well he succeeded in enticing them all. Now the cavern was filled with the pale green glow of Anemo, the small critters a ballet of movement. 

“See? It’s okay.” Venti reinforced, motioning at their new companions. Holding out a hand, one of the crystalflies landed on an offered finger. Eyes crinkling, he looked back at Xiao. “You don’t scare either of us.” He reassured, voice warm and comforting. There was a dumbfounded expression on Xiao for a moment. Swallowing hard, Xiao let out a shaky breath and nodded. Pleased at his work, Venti gave an approving hum and resumed looking forward once more. Lowered his hand slightly, before lifting it up to encourage the crystalfly to resume flight.

“I’m… Going to touch you now.” Xiao said, taking some effort to sound normal. There was still some shakiness.

Venti was right, Xiao's hand remained steady and gentle. The same care that the yaksha used in carrying Venti was matched in helping the bard preen his wings. Venti could hear the water be disturbed when Xiao would rinse his hands between. Felt the soft, warm puffs of Anemo that Xiao used to dry each area as he made his way through. If Xiao needed to tilt the wing this way or that, would murmur a warning or make a request. A shiver went up Venti’s spine as Xiao’s hand ran along the top of the wing, fingers sliding across marginal covert feathers to the alula, and away from primary coverts. Anemo slipped between feathers, pressing the water carrying debris out and away. Hands that cautiously, curiously, traced the bones beneath skin that emerged covered in a white down. The contact caused Venti to do a sharp inhale, his shoulders tensing with his wings following. 

Going in, he just assumed getting his wings would have been weird, at worst. Instead, now that he was getting help, the whole thing felt… Intimate. Tense as his muscles were in growing understanding, his insides were soft and warm, malleable beneath the hands that were always so tender with him. Made his chest hurt when he tried to rationalize, because there was a fear in the thought, Xiao’s like this with everyone, that made him want to cry. How simple Venti must have been, he thought in sudden realization, to fall so deeply for someone who treated everyone this kindly. To know that the longing to be close was a goal he chased not to be friends, but in hope for more.

Venti’s memories were a mush, his life from before an incomprehensible blur. This moment was one that he hoped would be added into that pile, his cheeks burning. To forget that the hammering in his chest was for the person behind him, a beat skipping each time those touches could be mistaken for a caress. If Venti hadn’t persuaded Xiao to help him, to feel his touch like this… How long into too late would he had been in figuring it out? 

Abruptly, the hands were gone. “I’m sorry.” Xiao whispered, his voice thick. “That’s… All I can do.” 

“Oh. Oh! Y-Yes, that’s okay. I appreciate what you could do.” Venti made himself answer, even if his voice sounded shy to his ears. Couldn’t just ignore the other, not after he spent so much time and effort helping Venti. Not wanting to ruin the wings so quickly as they were cleaned, the bard pulled them back in. The feathers felt clean and fresh, and Venti wondered if that was really an ending point rather than a stopping point. But, Xiao knew more about this than Venti did. Whatever else was left, if anything, he decided he would need to figure it out on his own. Venti doubted his heart could handle doing this a second time. The pounding was so loud, he was starting to fear that the other could hear it over the waterfall. The itching was preferable to this sudden understanding. “You did way more than I could have on my own.” He added on. Felt as if he needed to fixate on it, to keep the conversation as neutral as possible. 

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Xiao asked, his voice odd. 

“No!” Venti answered in a rush. “It just. I’m not used to having wings yet. It all felt… New.” Venti decided on. That was neutral enough, that was truthful enough. 

“That’s good.” Xiao said. From the corner of his eyes, Venti could see the shadow of Xiao nodding. A quiet fell over the two, each of them distracted by individual thoughts. The cavern was still twinkling with the flittering of the crystalfly and the anemograna, orbs of Anemo acting as dancing lights. A sight that would have been beautiful to anyone to behold, the lights reflecting off of the water in a smooth reflection like stars. The violetgrass on the walls lined the sides of the lake, lily pads adding to the framing. 

Biting his lower lip, eyes taking a chance look at Xiao, Venti realized just how beautiful it really was. At some point, the yaksha had pushed those long strands in the front of his face behind his ears. For the first time, Venti could see all of his face without Xiao hiding behind his hair. Xiao looked up, and their eyes met. The silence continued, neither looking away nor knowing what to say or do. 

Venti’s heart ached, it soared, it wanted to stop. Could feel pressure building behind his eyes, and knew he had seconds before tears would fall. Couldn't tell if he was leaning in, and felt a fear in that particular leap.

Naturally, he had to ruin the moment before he fell deeper.

“Water fight!” Venti declared, and with his hand scooped water to fling it at the other. This had the exact effect the bard wanted: the moment was gone. Whatever that moment may have been was lost to their stares broken, Xiao flinching at the sudden splash in his direction with minimal warning. There had been confusion at Venti’s proclamation, the yaksha unable to make sense of the what or why. 

“What the-?!” Left Xiao’s mouth before water stopped his words, the yaksha sputtering. Not daring to stay there any longer, Venti scooted himself back into the deeper water. Taking in a deep breath, he went under as a precaution to whatever retaliation awaited him. If there was any. He definitely confused Xiao, Venti couldn’t discount that there wouldn’t be any. As he went down, a few curious crystalfly followed after him. Scared for them, Venti created air bubbles for the creatures that bobbed down in an imitation of delight. Whatever about himself that made him such a magnet for the little Anemo beings, Venti couldn’t deny he enjoyed it. Grinned despite himself as he was lit up like a lamp by the crystalflies bouncing around him, as if he were a torch attracting moths. Except, he supposed that was an imperfect comparison. Given that yes, parts of him lit up like a torch, but the ‘moths’ that floated around him gave off far more light than he did. As his lungs started to burn, Venti decided he needed to learn how to use Anemo to hold his breath for as long as he wanted. 

A trick he wasn’t going to learn while running out of air. Kicking his legs, he swam back up to the surface to take in a deep inhale with his tiny Anemo friends following. Still sitting in the shallow end, leaning forward with furrowed brows, was Xiao. “What was that for?” He asked, narrowed eyes adding more to a look of confusion than annoyance. 

“Nothing!” Venti lied, trying to laugh it off. To act like he was just being playful, and not avoiding the emotions he was finally recognizing for what they were: yearning. The very source of those emotions sitting in front of him, confused and oblivious. “I figure, since we’re basically done and don’t have anything to do… We could have a little fun!” If he couldn’t convince himself, he could at least try to convince Xiao. Xiao, a man who lived for over two-thousand years, and seemed to maintain his sanity solely by not asking the big questions. A skill that Venti would do well to learn, he decided. 

Still sitting, watching Venti closely, Xiao didn’t seem convinced. Thankfully, the yaksha continued to live his life the way he always had. “I assume a water fight… Isn’t an actual fight.” That’s my Xiao, right to the point, Venti thought, flinching when catching that he used ‘my.’ No, he couldn’t think like that. There was literally an inn of people that had far more right to think that way than he did. Also, those same people would probably make Venti disappear if they ever knew he even thought it. 

“No, not really. It’s more like… A bit like, you know how sometimes people will make snowballs, and throw them at each other? Try to dodge them and hit the other? Same concept, except it’s with splashing!” Venti explained. 

“Why?” That confusion was still there, Xiao earnestly searching the bard’s face. Just in case the other was trying to mess with him.

“Because it’s fun! Come on. Try it!” Venti said encouragingly, kicking his legs a bit harder so he could use both hands to briefly urge the other to join him. Remaining on his perch, Xiao eyed Venti with uncertainty. His jaw tensed, brows remaining furrowed. Flared his nostrils out, and for a frightening second Venti was starting to worry he had angered the yaksha somehow. Gold eyes paused in their scrutinizing gaze, flicking down in slight confusion. Mouth parted just slightly, as if Xiao wanted to say or ask something. Venti looked down as well, trying to follow the adeptus’ line of sight. The symbol on his chest was glowing, just like his hair, his eyes, and the ones on his arms. Yet it was dimmer, as if it had to permeate through what looked like the star-shaped scar. Realizing that was why Xiao stared, Venti bit his lower lip. Tried to fight the urge to cover himself, suddenly very self-conscious. Noting the shift from playful, Xiao immediately averted his gaze and said nothing. 

All at once, Xiao let out another of his heavy exhales. Scooting forward, he leaned over to look down at the deeper waters. Fingers gripped onto the edge, Xiao weighing if he should or shouldn’t. Had his head cocked to the side again, pointed ears straining to hear for anyone that needed him. There was silence, as Liyue remained at peace. Lifted his eyes to gauge Venti, eyes that eased from narrow to what might have been indulgent. Pushing himself forward, he was in the water with the bard, treading it. 

Xiao knew better than to use all of his strength to splash. The purpose was to… Play. Not to drown the other person. So, with as close to an open mind as he could muster, Xiao lightly smacked the water in the direction of Venti. A few droplets landed on the other, garnering several blinks. Pulled Venti out of his insecurity. Right. He probably isn’t used to goofing around… Venti thought, his own brows having their turn to furrow in contemplation. There was only one time he could think of in which he saw Xiao smile. Right. The two would just need to ease into it, give the yaksha time to figure out how to have fun. “Close! A bit more like this!” Venti said, and sent another splash. Xiao tensed, closing his eyes as the water crashed over him. The weight of the water pulled some of the longer hairs, clinging onto his cheek. “Part of the fun is trying to dodge!” Venti continued. “Try it!” 

“Okay…” Xiao said, still uncertain, but put more force into his next attempt. Staying where he was, this time Venti also had to close his eyes as the water rained over him. With a wide grin, he beamed over at the yaksha. “Much better! Okay, my turn now! Try to dodge!” Soon as he said it, Venti regretted his word choice. Because of course Xiao dodged… By teleporting to the other side as soon as Venti splashed towards him. “...You know, normally people would call that cheating…”

“You said to dodge?” Xiao reminded him, confused as to why doing as instructed was suddenly ‘cheating.’ 

“I said normally! Part of the fun is you don’t use anything special. No adeptal powers, no Visions, no… Whatever I got.” Venti wished he had thought to say, ‘no Anemo,’ before and not after the fact. Regardless, he was pretty sure he got the point across. “Otherwise you’ll be splashing me, I won’t have a chance.” The bard continued, his smile not once faltering in all of this. A nod was his reply, and Xiao swam back over to his original spot. 

The two created a rhythm of splashing and dodging, Xiao quickly picking up on what was and wasn’t allowed. Learned that going under the water’s surface counted to dodge, even if getting more wet than what the splash would do seemed counterproductive. That he could use both of his hands to splash if he wanted. Got shown to cup both hands together, and how to squeeze to fire a stream of water out. That also counted, though would take practice to be more effective. Found diving forward to get closer, to try and splash the other before they dove under was allowed. 

Found that, somewhere in all of this, Xiao was enjoying himself. Was enjoying the gleeful laughter leaving Venti, their exchange having progressed from an amicable back-and-forth to both sides blatantly trying to get a splash in before the inevitable retaliation. There were no longer turns, just the pair sharing this moment of joy in the once quiet and lonely halls of Havria’s. Gods never truly died. That was what made them gods. As he dove under, Xiao knew that watching them would make her smile. Could almost feel the fondness from the walls, could picture her leaning against the cave entrance with that gentle smile still on her face. Diving deeper down, keeping his eyes open Xiao decided he would try a new tactic. See if that was on the table, or was ‘against the rules,’ of which he still wasn’t clear on. Part of him suspected that Venti may have been making some up along the way. 

Wrapping his arms around Venti’s waist and thighs, he lifted the other up and out of the water with himself. Legs kicked hard, Xiao taking advantage of the buoyancy the two had in the water to keep his head from sinking underwater again. A startled squawk left Venti at suddenly being held above the water, legs and arms briefly flailing before registering that it was Xiao and not some monster. “Hey that’s-”

“No fair?” Xiao finished, raising a brow with a ghost of a grin because he knew it. Did it anyway, because the reaction it wrought was both funny and adorable. Eyes lit up with Anemo narrowed, Venti pursing his lips. “Is this ‘cheating,’ too?” The yaksha asked. In his arms, Venti shifted so he could rest a hand on a bare shoulder and stare down with that frown.

“Of course it is! How can I splash you back! The only thing I could do is… Is…” Venti didn’t finish his sentence, and instead started leaning back with his face turned away. The first thing that came to his mind was: kiss you! But he was not going to say that. He was not going to do that. Wanted to kick himself for even thinking it. Angry at himself for what felt like moving too quickly, wanting things too fast from someone that wouldn’t feel the same. Wouldn’t even want the same. 

Venti was not aware that Xiao’s thoughts mirrored his own in some way, and with pointed red ears simply let the other go. As a result, with a yelp the bard fell backwards unceremoniously into the water. Splashed about to get his head above water once more, but was too flustered to dare look at the yaksha. “Uh… I’m getting hungry, actually…” Venti lied. No, he couldn’t do this. Thought he could, was irrevocably wrong about it. Even when he tried to make his thoughts stop, the second he let his guard down there he was again. 

“Oh… Right…” Xiao nodded, somewhat dazed. More surprised at the odd disappointment that filled him. This should have relieved him, hearing that Venti was ready to return to the inn. For a moment, he had almost made a terrible mistake. Tried to shake it off, to focus on what he needed to do. Because of his distraction, when he swam back over towards his clothes he forgot. For that brief moment, forgot he allowed Venti to see his exposed back. Quick as it was, Venti saw it.

The scars on his shoulders blades, the only remainder of what had once upon a time been wings…

[wangxianficrecs]

Ghost Wedding by nirejseki

Ghost Wedding

by nirejseki

G, 4k, wangxian

Summary: It was meant to be the best way out of a bad situation. In other words, Lan Qiren reflected, it had been a stupid idea the entire time, they had known it was a stupid idea, and they’d all collectively decided to charge straight forward into it regardless. And the worst of it was: it had been his idea, too.

Mojo's comments: Oh my lordy this was a hoot, and I adore lan qiren with all my heart.

Excerpt: [Lan Qiren to an angry Jiang Cheng:] "...you should never have been left out of the alliance between the sects; we are the four sects, unified, and if we are to prevent another Wen sect, unified we must remain. As we have wronged you, we should make reparations,” Lan Qiren said, ignoring him. This wasn’t actually about him, except in the way that it was, a little, incidentally. “You feel burdened by the weight of carrying Wei Wuxian’s spirit – so be it! Let that be our means of reparation: we will take him from you.” “Take…take him from me?” Jiang Cheng echoed, staring blankly at him. “But…how? How can such a thing even be possible?” “The same way families have sent off their children for a millennium or more,” Lan Qiren said, and tried not to look at the way Lan Wangji’s eyes had gone as round as saucers. “Marry him out to us in a ghost marriage. We will bear the stain of his crimes and cleanse them through our righteous conduct.” “A – a ghost marriage?” Jiang Cheng asked, though he looked unwillingly intrigued. “To Wei Wuxian? You would impose such a fate on one of your own disciples?” It did not take a genius to guess what would happen next. “I will take upon this duty myself,” Lan Wangji said solemnly. “I will wed Wei Wuxian.”

canon-divergence, ghost wedding, pov lan qiren, introspection, crack treated seriously, good uncle lan qiren, humor, character growth, thirteen years, @robininthelabyrinth

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

[mikuchan]

more thoughts on the Raphael tag dive! this is a longer one

first male character we are looking at! alexa, play boys by charli xcx

firstly, obligatory how I categorize:

Main: the fic is about Raphael, or he's the main ship.

Side: he is a prominent side character with an original role or strong presence, or he's a secondary ship.

Background: he has few lines, little plot relevance, and/or his presence is weak and doesn't diverge from canon.

Mistag: he is not in the story at all, or his presence is so minor (no lines, or few lines with no canon divergence or exploration) that he is window dressing, not a character.

some random but notable observations:

most of the works including Haarlep were threesome fics with Raphael/Haarlep/Tav

there were more works exploring the relationship between Gortash and Raphael than Mol and Raphael, which was surprising at first but also not really

most of the Raphael main character works did not mistag. They were actually very clean IRT tagging only main, prominent characters. you go Raphael writers 😄

I didn't do formal counts or notes on any of these, so not included in the infographic BUT always like to note little things like these.

now let's look at how Raphael's tag accuracy stacks up against the other tags I've done (Minthara, Alfira, and Aylin/Isobel).

for the sake of streamlining, I'm rolling the four categories into two: main and side roles = correct tags, background role and flat wrong tags = mistags.

these are in percentages, and here's the info in plain text in case the chart text is hard to read.

Raphael: 75% tag accuracy

Minthara: 54% tag accuracy

Aylin/Isobel: 56% tag accuracy

Alfira: 44% tag accuracy

Again, we do have to take into consideration that this is a small pool of data with some crazy variables at play: amount of works on ao3, character's in-game presence, solo vs ship tags, etc.

That said, that Raphael/Minthara divide is pretty notable. They're pretty comparable characters in terms of personality, appearance, morals, even plot relevance/presence but there's a pretty steep divide regarding both the sheer amount of tagged works, and amount of care within those works. Yikes.

Finally, this time I DID count the mistag categories. Out of the works that tagged Raphael but did not include him at all, these were the main categories for those fics:

Astarion/Original Character- 88 works

Gortash/Original Character - 22 works

Gale/Original Character - 13 works

Ensemble or collection - 12 works

Tav (no ship) - 11 works 

Astarion/Gale - 8 works

Dark Urge (no ship) - 4 works

Astarion/Wyll - 2 works

Karlach/Original Character - 2 works

Haarlep/Original Character - 1 work

Dammon/Original Character - 1 work

Halsin/Original Character - 1 work

Alfira/Original Character - 1 work

Gale/Mystra - 1 work

Shadowheart/Original Character - 1 work

Dammon/Karlach - 1 work

Astarion/Karlach - 1 work

Gortash/Haarlep - 1 work

Wyll/Original Character - 1 work

Emperor/Original Character - 1 work

Astarion (no ship) - 1 work

Gortash (no ship) - 1 work

[anomnum]

Survivor References, Vol. 1

Hey folks! If you've been keeping up with my last art posts, you've probably already seen these. They're a set of concept sketches for a still in-development project, and though it's a long way from public release, I wanted to share some information about it! More below the cut.

Eda's design is based heavily on these concepts for Watching and Dreaming by Luz Batista, especially the second one. Her outfit is intended to be more practical than stylish, though the cape is absolutely something she wears to honor her old maroon dress. Her shoulder pauldron is fashioned from the armor of a Coven Scout Captain, salvaged from the ruins of Police Precinct 206 in Latassia. King's mom and sister got to have cloaks, so he decided he wanted one too! His cloak is hand-made, which Eda had stitched together from a collection of old, unused blankets. The Golden Pendant is removed from his collar and used to hold the cloak together. Luz recovered her old Witches Wool cloak not long after the Day of Unity, and has been wearing it since due to the heightened protection it offers, hence the wear and tear it's undergone. 

Now, I'm going to preface that this project is still in very early development, still in the scripting phase, and everything regarding it is subject to change. However, I do want to share some information about it. The working and likely final title is The Children of Hope. It's a story set in a divergent Alternate Universe, where King is never knocked down the stairs of the bridge, and thus, never meets the collector. As a consequence, the Day of Unity isn't stopped. It's a very dark universe compared to cannon, but not all is so bleak - four years after the Day of Unity, Luz is given a vision of a powerful, incredibly complex spell. One that can send memories back through time, comparable to something like Time Travel. Using this spell, she and her surviving friends-slash-family are able to return to the start of Season One, and completely flip the playing field in their favor. 

Again, I don't have much to share about the Alternate Universe - I'm still planning it out, after all! - but I'm excited to put more work into it over time, in between other projects. I hope, when it's eventually developed enough to warrant a release, that you'll enjoy reading it! Until then, I'll share any big content updates on it over time. Have a good day, and thanks for reading all my rambling! 

[scottappreciation]

Thank you to everyone that participated in Scott McCall Week 2023!! We received over 40 entries this year and have been so delighted to see the amazing works you’ve created to celebrate Scott. 😁 Below is a round up of all of the contributions—days 3-7 and alt prompts are under the cut! For more Scott-centric works, including ones from previous events, we’d encourage you to check out scottappreciation’s collection of Scott-centric works.

If we’ve missed a post by you, please send us an ask, and we’ll add it.

Thank you again for helping make this event so successful, and we look forward to hosting more events in the future!

Day One - You’re an Omega / Traits

s1/2 moodboard and fic by @jjsstars

scott in s2 + soap fanvid by @bericas

what beautiful eyes you have fanart by @toastybugguy

an alpha of your own pack gifset by @momentofmemory

traits graphic by @seemebaremyteethforyou

s2 fic by @kitkatwinchester

scott + traits gifset by @letthestorieslive

Day Two - That’s All I Got / Quotes & Lyrics

scott & parental figures moodboard and fic by @jjsstars 

sciles fanart by @slumop 

ocean vuong gifset by @bericas 

battle born gifset by @seemebaremyteethforyou

inheritance gifset by @momentofmemory

you’re not a monster fanart by @toastybugguy

think of everything you’ve got fic by @smile667

Day Three - I’m Not Ready to Die Yet / Fight Scene or Romance Scene

fight scene graphic by @seemebaremyteethforyou

healing/processing moodboard and fic by @jjsstars

brothers, bitch! fanart by @toastybugguy

it’s just something i traced with my fingers graphic by @scribeoffate

miriam kramer gifset by @bericas

Day Four - The Shape You Take / Relationships

once i had a child fanart by @toastybugguy

identity moodboard and fic by @jjsstars

scott + hayden graphic by @seemebaremyteethforyou

Day Five - I’m Going to Tell You a Story / Aesthetics & Colors

scott + colors gifset by @letthestorieslive

that fearful sound of fire fanart by @slumop

that’s what he wants fanvid by @momentofmemory

scira canon divergence moodboard and fic by @jjsstars

haunting memories fanart by @toastybugguy

s2 scackson canon divergence fanvid by @domesticated-feral

Day Six - Trust Me, I Restrained Myself / Close-ups

e.d. smith gifset by @momentofmemory

the colors in your eyes captivate my mind fanart by @slumop

rage moodboard and fic by @jjsstars

pantone colors + closeups graphic by @seemebaremyteethforyou

rubble and dust fic by @princeescaluswords

Day Seven - Dealer’s choice

conversations with a future veterinarian shitposts by @spikeface

you stopped to bake it in a little werewolf oven fanart by @nacreousgore

scackson brokeback mountain au fanvid by @domesticated-feral

after hours sceo fic by @wolfboy88

raymond carver gifset by @momentofmemory

talking to allison moodboard and fic by @jjsstars

language of flowers graphic by @seemebaremyteethforyou

lay your gun down sceo fic by @shinigamimailjeevas

scott week pride month fanart by @toastybugguy

Alt 2: Lil Shit Scott

scott + (◡‿◡✿) (ʘ‿ʘ✿) (ʘ‿ʘ)／✿  gifset by @momentofmemory