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#She /scares/ him. He said he never felt more hopeless than when she dragged him to the forest to kill him. She was proud to show off the
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I so understand why ppl like making content where Jon and Daisy are friends but have you considered the fact that um. They wouldn't be.
#raf's rambles#akdjqjd okay I'm not gonna be mean abt people's fanon (even though I often am whoops)#but. Yeah.#the way people portray Daisy in general is kinda weird#but like. What makes Daisy a good character is the fact that she's not good!!!#what she's done! Unjustifiable! And she knows it!! And instead of wallowing in that. She tries to be better. And she doesn't ask#for the people she hurt to forgive her#she's trying to be better for the sake of being better! Not to be 'redeemed' in the eyes of better. Not to 'make up' for what she's done#not to undo her badness. But to work towards something better bc she wants to be#The thing that makes Jon and Daisy interesting it's that. They are the only two characters in the show that understand what it means#to be part of an entity. That I feel like is why Jon; even if he didn't forgive her; was still civil and willing to help her#because he understands her. And she understands him.#but they aren't friends. He's uncomfortable around her; I think that much is clear#She /scares/ him. He said he never felt more hopeless than when she dragged him to the forest to kill him. She was proud to show off the#new scar she left on him. He wouldn't be friends with her!!!!#and she wouldn't ASK for his friendship either!! She wouldn't expect that from him!!! She wouldn't /want/ that from him#bc she understands that she's hurt him!! And she can't take that back!!! But she can convince him to get out of his office w her and Basira#and she can try to make herself less of a threatening presence. And she can be civil#and yeah idk this is getting away from me but yeah they wouldn't be friends#and honestly!! I don't think they'd be friends in any universe!#not /really/#not unless you entirelyyyyy change Daisy as a character#which ofc ppl have no qualms w doing. Which is fine!!! Have fun#but. Yeah!#my thoughts on that
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otterandterrierwrites · 7 months
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45
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12
14 Days of Scoundress 2024 ♥ February 11th
His reason why
Han had started coming to these things a few years after the war—the veteran support groups. Not for himself, at first. He didn’t need support from strangers, wasn’t going to spill his most personal experiences to a nosy bunch. No; he’d started coming to see how he could help.
It had been Leia’s idea. He’d heard that someone in his old Pathfinding group had passed away unexpectedly, and—it had fucked him up for a while. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen plenty of fucked up things in his time, known of other people who’d died the same way. Maybe it was the fact that he’d made it out alive, and with so much to boot. Who knew how the mind worked. In any case, he thought he could try to help. Listen to people, at least; tell them it could get better. He hadn’t expected the groups to be so… cathartic. The first few times, he’d come back declaring to Leia that he wasn’t going back there, it was just too much, who the hell was he to play at shrink with those people, emotions made him uncomfortable anyway.
He’d always gone back again and, eventually, he’d stopped complaining. Sometimes, he even took advantage of the space to talk about some of what he’d been through—things he hadn’t wanted to burden Leia with. It surprised him how good it felt to drop some of that weight, which he hadn’t even realized he was carrying. Han was never going to do therapy, even though he saw how good it did to Leia. He just didn’t think he needed it. But the support groups—those helped him even more than he thought he’d helped them.
And yet, some days were hard. Sitting there, listening to vets talk about the people they’d lost, the feeling of hopelessness that crept in when grief took hold, when they couldn’t see themselves moving on and building a new life for themselves… it reminded Han of the darkness he’d glimpsed in Leia during the war, how it had scared him, moved him to act. Sometimes, by annoying her into feeling. Other times, by dragging her kicking and screaming out of martyrdom. He couldn’t take all the credit—but he wanted to believe it’d helped some. (And, incidentally, doing that had saved him, in more ways than one.)
Today was one of those days. Han had sat for an hour with a former frigate nurse whose wife had passed away recently from sustained injuries she could never fully heal from. In the end, she’d decided to give up. The surviving partner was struggling not only with her grief and broken heart, but also anger at being left behind, which added a serious dose of guilt to the mixer. No word of comfort had felt good enough, and Han had headed home in a dark mood. What could he possibly have to say to someone like that, when he got to come home to his wife?
His wife.
The sense of dread that had lodged in Han’s chest all evening ramped up as he made his way back to his and Leia’s apartment, inexplicably—he knew everything was okay, but he was still eager to make sure—and then he opened the front door and walked in, the familiar scents of home enveloping him. Leia came out of the kitchen carrying two plates of food, which she set down on the dining table as she greeted him.
‘Hey sweetheart,’ she said, a warm smile lighting up her fierce brown eyes. ‘I’m so glad you’re back; you won’t believe the gaffe Senator Arbo made in session about the Candovant refugees—honestly shows money can buy anyone a seat at the table, but not an ounce of empathy or—’
In a few strides, Han had closed the distance between them and snatched her up in his arms, the inertia of the movement making him dip her backwards as he interrupted her with a kiss. There, in the safety of her warmth, the turmoil in his heart finally quieted.
‘Just shut me up by kissing me from now on, won’t you?’ Leia asked breathlessly, smirking at him. Her expression softened as she looked into his eyes. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Yeah,’ Han assured her, bringing her hand up to press his lips over her knuckles. ‘Can’t wait to hear all about Senator Fargo.’
‘Arbo,’ Leia corrected with a chuckle, passing him a plate as they sat down for dinner.
It wasn’t wrong for Han to have survived, to have this while others had lost so much. That was something they always said in the groups—but he knew that already. Had spent years trying to make Leia believe it. Maybe it was the Force, or maybe it was sheer, dumb luck that it’d happened. But it was also… holy. His to cherish and protect. And it was the fuel that kept him going when he tried to make the galaxy the tiniest bit better.
******* Prompts:
45: without a motive
21: “Just shut me up by kissing me from now on, won’t you?”
12: [tango dip] a kiss shared while one partner is dipped backward
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eashmo · 1 year
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7 minutes in hell, or is it heaven? Part 6
-Please Pick Up-
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Warnings: eventual smut, fluff, and lots of angst. Billy is an extremely soft boyfriend to y/n
Love confession time from both sides!!!!!
In the Y/n pov, there are some quotes from some of my poetry work, so please enjoy and see how i'm such a hopeless romantic.
Also, it is set several weeks later from the last chapter, so there has been major secret friendship development. Felt if I wrote all that. It would have dragged.
~~~~~~~~~~~
*Billy's POV*
The lawn was trashed with empty kegs and red solo cups, toilet paper littered the trees and house, the smell of sweat, alcohol, weed and throw up was a stale scent everywhere I went while loud music seeps through every corner of the rooms.
Drunken students everywhere, some who I had never seen before making out with each other, random teenagers picking fights with each in the backyard and in the living room. I scoff.
I didn't want to be here. I would rather be with Y/n. Parties didn't feel the same after the last party with her, and her not being here it was boring.
Mumbling in disgust, I avoided people as I best I could, especially escaping from girls that try to throw themselves at me. While I was in thought, a junior bumps into me.
"Watch where you are going, you little shit," I angrily say as I grab his collar, lifting him off the ground with ease.
"S-s- sorry man, I didn't see you there." He says with fear in his eyes.
"Whoa now, Billy, give the loser a break and take a swig of this stuff that Heather brought." Tommy says as he come stumbling through the living room.
"Just don't do it again, nerd." I release him, and he fell to the floor.
"S-sorry again." He said as he ran for his life.
"Tommy, I'm gonna head out, I'm tired of this shit show." I say.
"Dude, you're drunk. You can't drive." He states.
"Fuck off I'll be fine I've done it before remember?" That was the last thing I say to him before I slam the front door.
The drive was longer than I thought. Maybe I should have sobered up some. I pulled to the side, noticing a payphone on the side of the road.
I was thinking about calling Tommy to come pick me up, but he was more inxoticated than I was, so I rang the next best person.
*RINGING*
"Hello?" A tired female voice spoke.
"I'm giving you a night call to tell you how I feel."
"Billy, are you drunk? What's wrong are you ok?" Her voice was filled with concern.
I shook my head like she could see it.
" Yes, I'm drunk, and no, I'm not ok, I have to tell you something that you don't want to hear.... I wanna be more than friends."
"Hargrove, where are you? Do you need me to pick you up? She asks.
"I'm at the old warehouse, but please let me get this out." I plead.
A small "ok" was only said.
"I need your hands on my body, I need your eyes only on me, I need your smell to engulf my senses, I need your lips on mine. I need to be with you physically and mentally. You're my breath. you're my lifeline in this miserable world. I swear my fucked up thoughts get calm when you stand by me. I feel your eyes on me all the time. The feeling always goes down my spin like electricity. Please tell me you will be mine. Tell me are more than overthinking stolen glances." I finally breathe.
*silence*
"We both know I'm just scared to really date you, but you have me mesmerized. I want to be yours." Was the last thing she said before I heard the dial tone.
*Y/N POV*
Hanging up, I run out of my room, almost killing myself on the stairs. Grabbing my dad's spare Ford Escort keys, I'll thank him later, but now is not the time.
"Love can sometimes be painful. Still, it was the only thing I had ever known when it came to him. All my love I had for him, the only person who gave me butterflies was him. Day and night, all I could think about was him. The only person I couldn't imagine my life without..... was forever him." I think to myself as tire screeched on asphalt.
"Please still be there, I'm going." I plead.
Turning the corner, i saw his Camaro still there. He was sitting on his hood with his head down.
"Thank god" I say.
Billy's head whipping up upon hearing my car, screeching to a stop. His eyes were wide when I tackle him to the ground. "Hmpf," he weezed.
Giggling a "sorry" while placing my thighs around his hips. We are lying in the soft grass.
"William Hargrove, let me explain... your hair, muscles, and body were never that I fell for you harder than before. Sure, they helped, but it was your personality that you've shown me these several weeks. The personality that lies beneath these ocean blue eyes, your captivating voice that melts my insides. The life behind your smile was the reason I fell in love with you all over again. It's like I'm walking into heaven when I see you." I say, breathing heavy.
"I love you, you asshole." I laugh.
Staring up at me, his grip on my thighs with his large hands tightened slightly with my words.
"I love you too, baby girl." His voice breathy as he leans up to capture my lips with his. The kiss was soft but slightly possessive.
"Will you be my girlfriend?" He officially asks.
Nodden my head shyly "yes"
"Use your words, princess." He smirks.
"Yes, I would love to be your girlfriend." I say.
He captures my lips once more, feeling the love pour into the kiss leaves me lightheaded.
As I got off of him I stuck my hand out for him to take. "Let's get you into bed, baby"
"Ugh, don't look at me like that, you idiot, you know what I mean." I scoff.
"Not my fault you look so good right now in your sleep clothes." He laughs as he heads to my car.
"He's unbelievable." I thought following behind him.
Previous Chapter
Part 7
Masterlist
2023
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ppawmpkin · 2 years
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Wrong When It Feels Right…
Black Fem Reader x Riri Williams
A/N: This is not the one I originally said I was going to do, I didn’t like the way that one looked and I am still working on it. I really hope that whomever reads this will enjoy it!! Not Proofread, if you see an error, no you didn’t. 👀
He was a damned fool, one the of the biggest at that. How could he capture the heart of a woman such as you and yet, disregard it as nothing? A woman with so much love in her heart for him, a hollow shell of an man you referred to as your husband. Far too busy looking in other places for temporary satisfaction, while you offered an lifetime of all aspects. It pained her greatly to see you go through such a hassle, attempting to repair something that was beyond that because of the fact that you could not simply could not accept reality for what it was.
He didn’t love you, he never did. The image, that was all that remained of significance to him, having it branded in the minds of others that he had such a lady on his arms. Other than that, he had forsaken those scared vows you both shared countless of times, using empty promises to mend the pieces of your heart every time he would break you and you, you fell short with hope every time. Hopeless, bound by the strings of a love that was never returned unto you, dancing on the edge of what could’ve been.
That was until she met you and graced you with something more, what it felt like to be loved and you, you were completely inbound in the feeling. The euphoric bliss, paired with that subconscious lingering in the back of your mind telling you that you two were wrong. It had to be a drug of some sort, her love. How she managed to corrupt your whole being with such an feeling, one that ran deep. Your sense of morality had been compromised by the woman who made you feel like the only woman in the world.
⇨ Summary Concluded ⇦︎
“How badly do you want me?” She questioned, those smooth fingers of hers slipping through the lace hemming of your silk gown, dragging them to the middle of your chest. She knew the answer to her question, but something about hearing those words of want for her never failed to give her that sweet, sweet satisfaction she craved, the one that swelled within her chest and lingered in her mind for weeks at a time.
You sucked in a breath of air, one that proved much more of difficulty than it did before, feeling the warmth of her your body against her contrasting cooler one. That feeling alone was one to enjoy, to reminisce on. It was one you could drown in without care, just from the significance of her touch, one that gave meaning to even the smallest. You didn’t just want her, you wanted all of her even if it was just a little while longer.
You felt a increase of boldness swirl around you, your adrenaline clouding your senses. Your fingers found her cool cheek, staring into the intense abyss of her brown irises. “Badly.” You breathed, feeling that feeling of pure heat settled within your veins, knocking the air out of your lungs as it coursed through you like a raging, uncontrollable flame.
She found temptation in your words, the feeling gnawing at her even more now. Her hands found their way to your neck, while she stared almost teasingly at your plush lips, leaving you with the tightness of anticipation while you longed for her with every inch of you. Her lips soon found yours, intertwined within each other while you both engrossed yourselves in the moment.
And just like that, you were weightless. The ability to think escaped your grasp, all that lay on your mind was you two, both off in an infinity of your own creation, one where the outside world held no regard and nor did time. This, this was the intimacy you yearned for, the one she had conditioned you to love, the one that was to blame for those restless nights, wrapped under a blanket of stars, while those explicit times between you both, replayed in your mind like a broken record.
Riri hummed lightly against your delicate skin, her mouth moving to the crevice of your neck, the aroma of pure vanilla and strong lavender grazing her senses. You grasped, feeling her smooth fingers pull the strings of the gown, loosening it from the fitting of your frame. There was so much eagerness within her touch and yet, she was trying to take her sweet, sweet time with you, noting the countless hours she had but even with them she couldn’t wallow in you as she truly wanted to.
Her hand found the band of your sheer, lace panties, pulling the thin piece of fabric to the side with ease, exposing your aching core to the cool air that circulated through the room. She slid a finger down your center, collecting the sweetness on her digit. Watching as you closed your eyes, sinful sounds exiting your mouth while the only thought that plagued your mind at the moment was the anticipation of the release, how good it would feel to succumb to this feeling that ravaged through your whole body.
“So wet for me, hm? I’m gonna take such good care of my girl, ok?” She said, placing her fingers inside of your dripping cunt, watching in utter awe at how well your pussy managed to take her every single time, it was as if she were made just for your pleasing. That to her meant that it was hers, all hers. Hers to taste, hers to touch and hers to claim over and over again, whenever she felt so. “Fuck, it feels so, so good.” You moaned, the keenness for her increasing with every pump of her fingers.
She rubbed your clit with her thumb, adding to that bliss you felt. Drowning under a sea of elation from her actions, while she watched in pure apprehension at your unraveling beneath her touch. You were just that beautiful, that captivating in nature. Messiness, it accentuated you perfectly, highlighting all those “imperfections” that she thought were so ideal.
“You look so damn pretty right now, angel.��� She coed, those words making your stomach tighten with that oh, so familiar coil. “please, please, don’t stop.” You begged, in the brink of closeness, your orgasm right in your reach. You didn’t have to beg to get her give you that though. She wanted you to, not only for yourself but for her, nothing gave her more than seeing her love unfold.
“Go ahead, let me see it.” She said, feeling that clench around her fingers, a dragged whimper escaping your lips as you let go fully. “thank you, thank you, thank you.” You slurred, the waves of pleasure colliding against the walls of your stomach, your body was electrified, lighting striking those turbulent waters that resided within you. “That’s it, sweetness, doing exactly what I wanted.” She kissed your cheek softly, a slight smile on her lips.
Your chest was still heavy, labored breathes like music to her ears. Those were the sounds that assured her that she was the cause of this, your undoing. Not him, but her. She had the right to be brash. To stare at that inconvenience of a man with a devilish grin on her face, knowing that she would take you under his roof, in his bed, so, so very soon. To make you forget. That was her goal and for just a while you would, tangled in her as the reminisce of your last session of passion wore off and all there was left was that soul-eating guilt once he would walk through that door.
For if it was wrong, why did it have to feel so good? Why did she have this hold on you? That magnetic pull towards someone who appeared to be your best friend and yet at the ungodly hours of night, she was your lover all over again. Two wrongs didn’t make a right. You knew that, but the fulfillment that this cycle gave you filled any negatives you had just as fast as they began.
And quite frankly, you couldn’t give a damn.
A/N: Y’all this took so, so long to write. I’m pretty sure out of the fourteen drafts (im lazy asf, don’t judge 😭) I’m surprised this one even made it out but, I preserved and we here now!! I hope this was enjoyable, I thank anyone who reads, reblogs or comments. Y’all and I swear I don’t support infidelity but, the husband had it coming for that ass. Love y’alll fr fr!! 💕💕
Taglist: @verachii @inmyheadimobsessed @mocha-aya @shuris-whore @demxnicprxncess @shuri-lvr @letitias-fav Lemme know if you wanna be taken off or added. 💕
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damien-mlm · 2 years
Text
Dead Man Walking (Angst, Dark!Red)
WARNING: PURE ANGST, BLEAK AND HOPELESS ALMOST ALL THE WAY THROUGH. Alcohol poisoning. Suicide attempt. Hallucinations, or perhaps not.
this happens immediately after Mama, and during Darrell's visit to Scarlet.
Darrell belongs to @bluecoolr, Skulk is @probably-a-plant-thing's, and Scarlet is by @kalid-raven
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Once he was sure that Darrell was asleep, he stepped out of the bed once again.
He had managed to push the ideation away for so long, so many years.
He couldn't do it anymore. He was weak again. 
She never left his mind, she was always there, calling for him.
Singing sweet lullabies when he felt so, so alone.
She had abandoned him too soon. But she never really left.
She was there, standing beside him as he cried, her casket being lowered into the ground.
She was there, looking from over his father's shoulder as he administered his bi-daily sessions of shock therapy.
She was there, encouraging him to keep stabbing, to burn it all down on the night of the hurricane.
"Come home…"
She was there.
She's still here, and she's calling for him.
Calling him back into her arms.
What about Blue? I can't just leave him… what will he do?
"My boy… he doesn't need you. He's got Skulk, remember? And Skulk's got him. They still have each other…"
They still have each other…
"They don't need you… I do."
They don't need me… Nobody here does…
"Come home, my son."
"Darlin', you alright there?" Darrell's sweet voice brought him back to reality. He had been sitting in the dark cold of his living room 'til the sun started to shine. Darrell wrapped a warm comforter around his shoulders.
What would I do without you? 
"Yeah, sorry…" he took Darrell's hand and pressed his lips against it softly. 
God, I'm such a fool.
He made a cup of coffee and heated up a cornbread muffin for Darrell in the toaster oven.
"You're not gonna eat?" 
"Not hungry, hun" he said as he opened the door and sat on the porch, lighting up a cigarette for himself.
He didn't notice the way Darrell was looking at him.
He looked into nothingness as his cigarette burned. His mind felt foggy and clouded.
"You've changed since the last time I saw you."
I know, mama. I'm more like myself now.
"But you had such pretty hair before..."
I like red...
"Do you, really?"
...
I... I don't know... It just stuck with me, I guess...
Red was all he could see, always. Red, blinding and all-consuming.
I can't forget about it, mama. I can't.
Why did you have to go? Why did you leave me with him?
But there was no answer.
He tried to take a drag of his cig, only to realize it had burned entirely.
His face felt cold and numb.
Darrell's hand on his shoulder startled him more than it should've, he gasped and jumped slightly at the touch.
"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare ya" he said softly, his chest stinging at the fact he made Red, of all people, jump in fear.
"That's fine, sugar. I was too deep in thought..." Red trailed off as he saw Darrell was already fully dressed and had his keychain in his left hand "You're going to see her?"
"Yes Sir, I know she can help us, we need to hide, lie low for a while... Are you sure you'll be alright by yourself?" Darrell asked, stroking Red's sunken and cold cheek with his free hand.
'Don't worry about me, I'll be okay" he answered as he leaned into Darrell's warm, gentle touch.
He doesn't need more problems, not now.
Once Darrell was gone on his way to Scarlet, Red decided to take a small trip to town.
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He didn't bother looking into Germaine's eyes, or even her face, as he waited for her to ring the black hair dye, the pair of scissors and the shaving razor blade spare replacement.
"Ya going back to the natural look?" she asked curiously.
"Huh?" 
"Oh, it's just, I can see your roots" she said sheepishly as she pointed at her own scalp.
"Ah... Yeah. Red's worn out, I guess" he answered as he handed her a 100 bill, much to her shock.
"Oh, I don't think-"
"Keep the change for yourself, hun. I won't be needin' it" he said before snatching the items he had bought, throwing them in his backpack and storming out.
The bar was next, Neil's eyes went the size of dinner plates when Red slammed the money on the counter.
"I'm paying my tab off, and I'm taking two bottles of your strongest bourbon" he said without looking up.
"My boy, you know damn well this will cover all that and more, twice over..." the old bar owner trailed off as he grabbed two bottles from the top shelf, then placed them between them, without letting go of them. Red was just about to grab the bottles when Neil pulled them back just a smidge, calling for his attention, "What are you gonna do, Damon?" 
Red's eyes shot up and met Neil's at the mention of his true name. The old man's stare was unwavering, yet full of worry.
"I'm fine, Neil. You'll hear of me again soon." he promised, giving the old man a faint smile as he gently placed the pair of bottles inside his backpack.
Neil watched him exit the bar with his head down, hunched over.
Red's last stop around town was the diner, his boss had told him to take the day off, since he was so out of it that almost caused a grease fire the last time he clocked in.
He entered through the front and greeted the server kindly, she smiled at him and he handed her a small note, intended for the owner. 
That's the last of them.
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He haphazardly chopped the longer parts of his hair off before dying it all black, he was sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, anxiously chipping away at his nail polish til his nails were clean, waiting for the dye to do its work.
Red was almost on autopilot, he soon ran out of polish to scrape away at, his sight was blurry and dazed. Almost as if he was looking at his point of view from a screen. Not his own eyes. Everything was out of focus, distant. Fake even, it all felt like plastic, like a big set full of props.
"It looks awfully similar, doesn't it?"
The red chips of polish contrasted with the white tiled floor, and under his unfocused sight they looked liquid.
Liquid red staining the white tiled floors again.
He nearly jumped out of his skin
I can't get the image out of my mind…
"I know, my child. But once you are with me, you won't have to remember it ever again. I promise"
I'm scared, mama. What if dad is there?
A pause.
Mama?
"He can't get to you, my child. Come to me, I'll protect you."
No, mama. I'll protect you.
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"Now you look more like the last time I saw you. I missed this look on you"
Once his hair was clean he stared at the mirror, for how long, it's unclear
Last time he had his hair black and this short was back before…
He closed his eyes, thinking of that beautiful night, the night they were back home from Ambrose.
It feels strange to me… I know it's my natural color, but it doesn't feel like me entirely…
Now that I think of it, I don't remember the last time I truly felt like myself.
That was it, that was my peak.
It all seemed to go downhill from there, rolling down violently. Hitting rocks and being scratched by thorny bushes on his way. 
At the end of the hill, there wasn't land. There was a chasm. An infinite fall into darkness, and he was rapidly approaching the edge.
He never had the chance to mourn, to let it out, to let himself just be. He had been stuck in survival mode for as long as he could remember, and the moment he let his guard down, the moment he first felt peace, it all came down on him at once.
"Come into my arms, my love. I'll never let you hurt again"
It seemed like the perfect solution. No more pain, no more nightmares, no more…
Darrell…
"He'll be fine. He doesn't need you."
Skulk can take care of him, they can care for each other… I don't want to abandon them, though…
"It'll be a weight off their shoulders."
What?
"Skulk can take care of himself, he's agile and good at hiding. Darrell has enough trouble in his hands right now. None of them have the time for you."
"None of them have the energy to care for a deteriorating alcoholic."
And as if to give her reason, he sat down on the toilet again and took a long swing of the bourbon he had bought.
Damn it, Neil. Shouldn't have wasted your best tasting shit on me…
Several gulps per swing, 4 swings and the first bottle was empty. Heat traveled down his esophagus and into his stomach. The first thing that has gone in there since last night's single cornbread muffin.
I can't just leave without a word…
He stood rapidly, and whiplash hit him like a truck. His head spinning, his hands reaching for the sink in order not to fall. 
I guess liquor hits faster when you're in a rush to leave.
He stumbled his way out of the bathroom and into his bedroom, opened his bedside table drawer and ripped a page out of his small notepad.
What do I even say?
He felt awful to leave them like this. 
Darrell, my fallen angel
Skulk, my sweet guardian 
See you on the other side
I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…
I had to go
All that was mine is now yours
I love you both
Take care of each other please
He grabbed that old silver letter opener. Used it as a stake to adhere the note on the outside of the bathroom door. A silver nail on a white coffin.
Originally, his plan was to burn it all down, and himself with it. Wipe it all away, just like back then.
He would have to instead drink both bottles and hope that, if blood loss didn't take him, alcohol poisoning would.
But it wouldn't be fair for them.
There is no closure to be found in a pile of ash and a charred corpse.
He was sitting on the bathroom floor and almost entirely through the second bottle when he dug into his wrists with the razor blades. Both of them now have a vertical opening.
Red, warm, slick and slippery. 
A little too slippery, perhaps, he was already weak, but now the slick didn't let him hold onto the bottle no more.
He lied back, too tired and drowsy to sit up straight. Red pooling around him, pouring from his wrists.
Mama, I'm on my way.
But mama wasn't there.
He was, looming and towering over him. Looking down with a crooked smile.
Damon's breath got caught in his throat, his eyes burning with hot tears. Pure, unadulterated fear coming over him.
Everything around them was on fire, even Dr. Herring himself. 
Damon couldn't move, he could do nothing but watch and silently weep as the sinister burning man grabbed him by the ankles, setting them on fire. 
"You don't know how long I've waited for this moment. Now you'll burn with me, forever."
He was being dragged to hell.
And he could do nothing but beg silently.
Help me, please.
He felt his father's nails dig into the flesh of his ankles.
I'm sorry, I take it back! I don't wanna go, please!
He could hear the screaming and wailing of tortured souls, lost to the flames forever.
Help me!
"You're mine"
PLEASE!!!
The door swung open with such force, a being bathed in blinding golden light coming through it.
Everything was white and gold. Suddenly soft and warm.
An angel kneeling over him.
His angel.
He felt tears fall on his cheeks, raining down on him from above.
Even in such pain, he was beautiful.
Peace washed over him, and he let himself go.
Darrell's distant voice and visage fading to black.
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A/N: here I go, just pouring a bucket of gasoline on the dumpster fire that is our boys' poor lives
Taglist: @rottent33th @slaasherslut @the-pinstriped-hood @texaschainsawslvt @angxlslasher @allthingsblood @ajarofpickledtears @mr-trick
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larabiatasstuff · 1 year
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This is part two Bestie 🖤 @fangirlstorycreator
I woke up to someone splashing water into my face. "Wake up the captain wants to talk to you." the man who kidnapped me said. I looked around, I was on a boat tied to one of the masts.My heart immediately beat faster. I was afraid of water since I almost drowned when I was a kid. Tal was the one who saved me but, he wasn't here this time. "That's a very nice surprise you brought here Zackary. Still looks fresh and unused. Oh, the things I will do to you little siren." the captain, an old man with a wild beard and a blind eye,said and reached out to touch my face. "Don't you dare touch her." a familiar voice sounded behind him. The captain turned around and there stood Tal. I tried to fight against the ropes but it was hopeless. "And who might you be?" "I'm the one she belongs to. So take your dirty hands away from her and let her go ." Tal said looking in my direction, I could see how desperate he was to save me. The captain gave him a cruel smile "Then come and get her." with that he pulled out his sword and they both began to fight. Tal was way better than the old captain and his moves were much faster. "Throw that bitch over board!" the captain yelled and my blood froze. "No, no Tal! No please don't do that please." I begged while the man called Zackary dragged me to the edge of the boat. I looked over to Tal and I could see that our men joined him and were fighting with him. "Take a last look at your lover Missy." Zackary said and pushed me into the water. I tried to free myself from the ties but they were too tight. I sunk deeper and deeper into the water. No one would come to save me this time. And in my last moments I thought of Tal but right in the moment before I passed out due to the lack of oxygen, I felt someone dragging me to the surface. "Come on Y/N, wake up please, please don't do that to me." Tal checked for breathing and a pulse but there was barely something he could feel. He pressed his lips on mine trying to get me to breathe and started CPR. Tears were running down his face as he tried to save me from dying." Please Y/N I'm so sorry I wasn't fast enough. I'm so so sorry I couldn't save you earlier. Please God don't let her die!!!" he gently stroke my cheek when I suddenly started to cough and threw up a huge amount of water. "Oh my god Y/N you're alive. That's right let everything out. Don't forget to breathe alright?" I held onto his body for my dear life, I was shaking and still scared. "Tal I'm so happy you're here. I thought I'm going to die. It was so dark." he wrapped his arms around me holding me close to his chest. "I know princess but you're safe now. No one will ever lay a hand on you again that's a promise. I will protect you with my life from now on. God I was so scared that I lost you." he kissed the top of my head and started rubbing my back. "You saved me again. I can never repay you for that Tal." he smiled "There's no need to do that princess I'm so relieved to have you in my arms again." "I like it when you call me princess. The last time you did that we where kids and you pretended you were the knight that asked for my hand." he looked deep into my eyes. "Well Y/N, this time I'm serious. I really want to be your knight if you want me too, of course." I put my still shaking hand on his cheek "Yes Tal I want nothing more than that. I want to be with you for so long." "I'm so happy you say that. I love you princess." "I love you too Tal." then he leaned in and we shared a wonderful, sensual kiss.
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jase-is-ace · 2 years
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Back into the Pit
Chapter 17: The man and the Memory
~~~
“So, you are Twisty. I think I remember seeing you once when I was little.” Audrey spoke. It’s true she had very vague memories about her childhood, she watched the old episodes of the Bendy cartoons that twist was in.
Said character nodded as confirmation.
“I think I remember one of my coworkers say something about bringing back old characters, maybe they meant you!” she theorized.
Twist honestly did not care if the public would accept her at this point. Although, she’d be lying if she claimed the thought of being an important character again didn’t intrigue her.
The two strode down the halls without having much to fear. Afterall, besides the Ink Demon, Twist was one of the biggest threats to roam the studio. That combined with Audrey’s banishing ability, they made quite a powerful team.
Audrey has recently been crowned as “Lord Amok” by a group of lost ones who now serve her. The Ink Demoness caused a lot of chaos by simply walking in with Audrey, the previous lord shouting accusations of her being the Ink Demons copy.
Twist very much despises being compared to the all-hearing Ink Demon, so in her fit of rage, she killed off all the lost ones in her way. She was kind enough to leave Lord Amok to Audrey.  
The duo had covered most of the ground they needed and killed that…giant ugly spider thing. God how she hated spiders.
They pressed onward, only stopping when Audrey spotted a speaker-like thing. The girl practically tripped over her own feet to get to it, much to the Demoness’ confusion. She grabbed hold of it and spoke rather desperately.
“Alice? Are…are you there? Alice!” she called into the mic. Audrey had not heard from the angel in a while since she was first tossed into this hell hole. She missed the first friend she ever made, even though they had only talked briefly.
The twisted toon was about to ask what she was doing, then she heard a voice from the other side. A very familiar voice.
“Audrey! Where are you?” the voice, presumably Alice spoke.
The young woman turned to look at the Demon, seemingly at a loss for words. She turned back to the mic and answered.
“I…I don’t know. It’s dark. And now well I…I don’t know what to do.” she said sadly.
Twist had yet to see the woman look so hopeless, a few hours ago she was bright as ever. The Demoness feared the studio was finally wearing her down. There wasn’t much the demon could do for her anyways.
“Wait there. I’m coming to find you. Just don’t move.”
“…”
“And Audrey, I am sorry for leaving you.” Alice apologized before the speaker went silent.
Audrey looked at her hand, tightening it into a fist. The tension in the air was so thick one could cut through it with a knife.
Never, in these many years within the studio, had Twist felt guilty for something that wasn’t her fault. Twist wasn’t the one who dragged Audrey into this hellhole. However, she felt like she hadn’t done enough to help this innocent soul.
A ferocious growl erupted from within her stomach.
Twist took a step back in shock; realizing she needed to consume.
She approached Audrey, tapping on her shoulder to get her attention. Once she had it, Twist wrote on the wall.
“I need to go. Will be back soon.”
Audrey felt her heart sink even further.
“What? No, no you can’t go now. I…Don’t want to be alone.”
Twist shook her head.
“Don’t have a choice. Need to consume.”
A pause.
“Sorry.” Twist signed.
With that, the Demon turned and left.
Audrey watched as the demon strode away, feeling more alone than ever.
Sighing, she went to open the door to the next room.
Her eyes widened when she was greeted with the sight of the little toon she had scared off earlier.
He looked surprised, but quickly regained himself and ran in the opposite direction. Audrey followed him, wanting to give him an apology.
She was led deeper and deeper, until she ventured into an open room. A figure greeted her from the balcony.
His voice boomed across the entire room, making his presence as clear as day.
“I believe there is something special in all of us. Especially you, Audrey.”
Audrey furrowed her eyebrows, squinting at the figure above her.
“Who are you?” she demanded.
“Don’t you know me? Take a good look.” As he said that, he reached for the lamp next to him turning it on to illuminate his face.
Audrey gasped in surprise.
“Aren’t you…?”
Before she could finish her statement, the man cut in.
“Joey Drew? In the flesh! Well, so to speak. Come on up! Let’s take a little walk. There’s something I want to show you.”
Audrey contemplated on it for a good minute before turning to the ladder next to her and climbing up.
She reached the top and approached the man who had created those beloved cartoons she once thought to be innocent, and joy filled.
“There ya go! Follow me but mind your step. This old place is full of surprises.” He said cheerfully, motioning for the young woman to follow.
“I’ll say. I don’t think I will ever fully recover from all of this.” She said rather pessimistically.
The man chuckled at the comment.
“Yeah, being here long enough will do that to ya. I should know. I’ve worked here for quite a long time.” Joey said, making his way towards the next hall, Audrey following him.
~~~
Chapter 16 / Chapter 17
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philhoffman · 2 years
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Tonight’s Monday Philm is one of my favorites of all time, really the first reason I love film as much as I do: Synecdoche, New York (2008), dir. Charlie Kaufman
There is so much about Synecdoche—artistically, cinematically, personally, existentially—that I can’t possibly write about it all. For one thing, it’s confusing as hell. Roger Ebert wrote that you shouldn’t watch Synecdoche unless you’ve already seen it at least once, which is so accurate. As far as the story and details themselves, I cannot recommend the incredible (albeit unfinished) The Genius of Synecdoche, New York series on YouTube enough!
I usually don’t put these under Read Mores but this one is even longer than usual, and personal, so...
Despite being one of my favorite pieces of art, I’ve never actually written a real review or analysis of it. Even when I try (like on Letterboxd) it typically ends up being more about whatever is going on in my life at the time. Which I guess is pretty fitting. Every time I watch it—and viewings themselves feel more like experiences, visits to a different world, sort of a dream, sort of a nightmare—I take away something completely different. New details, new themes.
This was one of the first PSH films I ever watched almost two years ago, which I think I’ve said before is the film equivalent of being thrown in the deep end of the pool to learn to swim. It shook me like nothing I’d ever seen and stuck in my head for days, weeks, in a way I didn’t know movies could. Everything about that time is seared into my memory—the earthy smell of late spring, how green everything was, listening to the score on my runs in the afternoon heat, thinking seriously about art for the first time and death for the millionth time, getting to know Phil. The soundtrack transports me back so powerfully. It clobbered me, gnawed at me.
Phil’s performance here is, obviously, incredible. Even negative reviews (I’ve read a lot) give him credit, even if they find the script or the concept pretentious or too hopeless or boring. Sammy is right about Caden—he’s a self-centered man and all that navel-gazing has led him to collapse in on himself. That doesn’t make him a bad person, exactly, because we all look mostly at ourselves. There are a lot of mirrors in the world.
Sometimes Synecdoche sends me into an existential spiral, sometimes it calms me down. When I was sick and scared because we didn’t know why, it was oddly comforting—I thought about how, regardless of how this particular thing works out, I was going to die like Caden was going to die like Philip was going to die like Charlie Kaufman was going to die like we are all going to die. Sometimes it’s really funny.
Today it dragged me through the fucking mud. I’ve been in a great mood lately and the humor was really standing out, I’ve never laughed at it so much, and then suddenly it was devastating in a way it’s rarely been before. The highest highs, the lowest lows—feeling it all very richly. Midway through the film someone sent me, not kidding, a photo of the church where Phil’s funeral service was held almost nine years ago (the cast of Succession was filming there today, if any Conheads are reading). It knocked the wind out of me. This viewing already felt like a story about a father and his daughter, a father who loves his child but leaves or is left (does it matter how it happened?), and can never fix the damage. “I want to see my daughter... She’s a fucking four-year-old!” “She is almost over 11 now.” It rips my guts out, Caden tells Hazel. With the anniversary approaching, everything is heavier, the grief has been coming in strong waves already. All the reminders in film and in life that he is nowhere to be found. It’s really hard. It’s really dark, too, but films are often the only way I can be within those thoughts and feelings and process them. Seeing Phil at 40 years old, acting 40 years older, the only way we will ever see him at that age. The scene when Caden is shuffling through the abandoned city to their death, you just want to hold him, his aching body that no longer exists. Thinking about it drives me out of my head more than even Synecdoche, which is why I don’t.
I finally understood the full meaning of Jess’s “stomach hurts: bad” scale today, particularly the scene when Caden and Hazel meet up on the street, married with kids to different people. My stomach hurt BAD. The way Caden barely holds himself together though it is clear he’s being torn apart, I’ve never seen that polite devastation portrayed so well. Restraint, wretchedness.
Whenever I try, I end up writing too much and not enough about this film. “I feel a longing.” I wish they didn’t cut Caden’s line from the original script about how he’s started running. Tom Noonan is truly a MVP of this film, he’s such a valuable glue. “I wanna follow you there and see how you lose even more of yourself.” The little girl who played young Olive is on tiktok (I don’t think she acts anymore). The fantastic Christopher Evan Welch’s sermon. Our broken, shattered hearts. The way they swell with love, even after grief. I miss you, where did you go? Why? The last thing Caden Cotard heard in his life was “I love you, too.” I hope it doesn’t always feel this way. It’s probably best to put my head down and just get through the next few weeks.
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fannish-karmiya · 3 years
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Wei Wuxian’s Position in the Jiang Household
Fandom tends to mischaracterise Wei Wuxian’s position in the Jiang family greatly. A lot of people project more modern ideas about adoption onto his relationship with the Jiang siblings, and write as if he really is their sibling and only Yu Ziyuan’s abusive nature gets in the way of their bond.
This strikes me as a bit misguided. While adoption was practised in ancient China, it was mainly for the purpose of obtaining a male heir in the absence of one, or obtaining more daughters to marry off for alliances. Jiang Fengmian had no reason to adopt Wei Wuxian into the main family, and he didn’t. Wei Wuxian’s position in the household is far more nebulous than that, and honestly it’s hard to find an exact corollary, in Chinese history or in any culture, precisely because it was so messy and ill-defined.
A Companion to Upper Class Children
Wei Wuxian is the son of a servant of Yunmeng Jiang; it’s notable that Wei Changze is always referred to this way, rather than as a disciple. Wei Changze wound up leaving the sect in order to marry Cangse Sanren, and Jiang Fengmian considered them dear enough friends that when he heard they passed away, he spent years searching for their orphaned son. He wound up finding Wei Wuxian on the streets of Yiling and brought him home as his ward.
Wei WuXian was taken home by Jiang FengMian when he was nine.
Most memories from back then were already blurred. Yet, Jin Ling’s mother, Jiang YanLi, remembered all of them, and even told him quite a few.
She said that, after his father heard of the news that his parents both died in battle, he had always dedicated himself to finding the child that these past friends had left behind. After searching for a while, he finally found the child in Yiling.
(Chapter 24, Exiled Rebels translation)
It’s clear from the start that beyond this sense of obligation to his old friends, Jiang Fengmian also had a role set out for Wei Wuxian: he wanted him to be a companion to his children, and Jiang Cheng in particular.
He encourages a friendship between them, insisting on a sleepover between the two a week into Wei Wuxian’s stay.
On the second day, Jiang Cheng’s puppies were given to someone else.
This angered Jiang Cheng so much that he threw a big tantrum. No matter how much Jiang FengMian comforted him gently, telling him that they should ‘be good friends’, he refused to talk to Wei WuXian. Quite a few days later, Jiang Cheng’s attitude softened. Jiang FengMian wanted to strike while the iron was still hot, so he told Wei WuXian to sleep in the same room as him, hoping that they’d grow fonder of each other.
[...]
That night, Jiang Cheng locked Wei WuXian outside his room, refusing to let him in.
[...]
Wei WuXian waited outside for a long time. When the door opened, before the joy could spread onto his face, he was bombarded with a pile of things being thrown out. The door banged shut again.
Jiang Cheng told him from inside, “Go sleep somewhere else! This is my room! You’re even gonna steal my room?!”
[...]
Standing outside, as Wei WuXian heard that dogs would come bite him, fear immediately bubbled within him. Twisting his fingers, he hurried, “I’ll go, I’ll go. Don’t call the dogs!”
Dragging behind him the sheets and blanket that were thrown outside, he ran out the hall. Having only arrived at Lotus Pier for a short period of time, he didn’t dare jump around yet. Every day, he obediently holed up in the places that Jiang FengMian told him to stay at. He didn’t even know where his room was, much less have the courage to knock on other people’s doors, scared that it’d disturb someone’s dreams.
(Chapter 71, Exiled Rebels translation)
After Jiang Cheng is worried about getting in trouble, he goes to Jiang Yanli for help, and she searches for Wei Wuxian.
But this was the first pair of shoes that Jiang FengMian bought him. Wei WuXian was too embarrassed to make him go out of his way to buy another pair, and so he said that they weren’t too big. Jiang YanLi helped him into his shoe and pressed the hollow tip, “It is a bit big. I’ll fix it for you when we get back.”
Hearing this, Wei WuXian felt somewhat uneasy, as if he did something wrong again.
Living in other people’s homes, the worst that could happen was to make trouble for the hosts.
Jiang YanLi put him onto her back and began to walk back, wobbling in her steps as she spoke, “A-Ying, no matter what A-Cheng said to you, don’t bother about him. He doesn’t have a good temper, so he’s always home playing with himself. Those puppies were his favorites. Dad sent them away, and so he’s feeling upset. He’s actually really happy that somebody’s here to be with him.”
(Chapter 71, Exiled Rebels translation)
Later, Wei Wuxian offers to cover for him, saying simply that he ran outside by himself because he was scared. In this one case it feels like a genuine instance of children showing solidarity and covering for each other’s little misbehaviours. But it also follows a pattern of Wei Wuxian doing this and making excuses, time and time again, for Jiang Cheng. I wonder if on some level, he already knew that his role in the household was in part to be a companion-servant to Jiang Cheng.
Wei Wuxian normally never puts up with people treating him poorly or being arrogant; he constantly bites his tongue when Jiang Cheng does so around him. While they study at Cloud Recesses, Jiang Cheng frequently insults Wei Wuxian, who always just smiles and laughs it off.
Jiang Cheng humphed, “Him? He wakes at nine in the morning and sleeps at one during the night. When he wakes up, he doesn’t practice his sword or meditate; he goes boating, swims around, picks lotus seedpods, and hunts for pheasants.”
Wei WuXian replied, “No matter how much pheasants I hunt, I’m still number one.”
(Chapter 13, Exiled Rebels translation)
Jiang Cheng scolded with a darkened expression, “What are you proud of?! What is there to be proud of with this?! Do you think that it’s a glorious thing to be told by someone to get lost? You bring so much shame upon our sect!”
(Chapter 16, Exiled Rebels translation)
We never see Wei Wuxian excusing this sort of behaviour from any other character; he has no problem scolding Jin Ling for his arrogant attitude and telling him that he shouldn’t be imitating his uncle, after all! It’s only where Jiang Cheng is concerned that he does this, and honestly, even then he seems to be quite aware that Jiang Cheng’s behaviour is wrong; he simply accepts on some level that it’s his role in the household to put up with it.
He actually does, very gently, try to guide Jiang Cheng at times. In Lotus Seed Pods, for example, he tries to give Jiang Cheng advice on how to flirt with some of the maidens in Yunmeng and make friends:
Wei WuXian threw the seed pods toward the shore. It was a far distance, but they landed lightly in the women’s hands. He grabbed a few more and stuffed them into Jiang Cheng’s arms, shoving, “What are you doing, just standing there? Hurry up.”
After a few shoves, Jiang Cheng could only accept them, “Hurry up and do what?”
Wei WuXian, “You ate the watermelon too, so you also have to return the gift, don’t you? Here, here, don’t be embarrassed. Start throwing, start throwing.”
Jiang Cheng snorted again, “You must be joking. What’s there to be embarrassed about?” Whatever he said, however, even after all of the shidi began to throw seed pods, he still didn’t start to move. Wei WuXian urged, “Then throw some! If you throw some this time, next time you can ask them if the seed pods tasted good, and you’ll be able to make conversation again!”
[...]
Jiang Cheng was just about to throw one when he realized how shameless it was the moment he heard it. He peeled a seed pod and ate it by himself.
[...]
After a while of laughter, he turned around and looked at Jiang Cheng, who was sitting at the front of the boat eating seed pods with a long face. His smile gradually disappeared as he sighed, “Well, what an unteachable child.”
Jiang Cheng fumed, “So what if I want to eat alone?”
Wei WuXian, “Look at you, Jiang Cheng. Nevermind. You’re hopeless. Just wait to eat alone your whole life!”
(Chapter 125, Lotus Seed Pod, Exiled Rebels translation)
He even sighs rather disappointedly when Jiang Cheng refuses to take the hint; he knows that Jiang Cheng’s sullen behaviour is going to make him miserable down the line, but all of his gentle efforts to nudge him in a better direction have failed.
He also speaks with great awareness of Jiang Cheng’s flaws after the fight in the ancestral hall:
Wei WuXian reached out with one hand and massaged his chest, as if trying to break up the pent-up feeling inside his heart. A moment later, he blurted, “I knew Jiang Cheng wouldn’t have let us go so easily. That brat… How could this be?!”
[...]
Wei WuXian’s eyelids throbbed, “Every one of them. The brat’s been like this ever since he was young.He’ll say anything when he’s angry, no matter how bad it is. He gives up on all grace and discipline whatsoever. As long as it’d annoy whomever he’s against, he’d say it no matter what terrible insults he uses. After all these years, he hasn’t gotten better at all. Please don’t take it to heart.”
(Chapter 90, Exiled Rebels translation)
This is so interesting to me, because it really makes it clear that Wei Wuxian has always been aware of these flaws of Jiang Cheng’s. He hasn’t been viewing him through rose-coloured lenses or making excuses for him because he’s ‘family’. He puts up with Jiang Cheng’s behaviour because being his companion is one of his duties in the Jiang household. It may never have been directly stated, but there seems to be some unspoken understanding to this effect.
I honestly don’t know if there is any official role in history (in any culture, not just China) which perfectly correlates to this. In China a lady’s maid was expected to also be a close friend and companion to her mistress (in canon, see Bicao to Qin-furen and Yinzhu and Jinzhu to Yu-furen). In Europe an upper class woman would hire a lady’s companion, a woman from the lower fringes of the gentry who would serve as her companion in exchange for financial support.
I don’t know of any version of this role which involves two men. In general, this sort of role existed because upper class women were confined to the household by and large, and had very limited social spheres. Men, meanwhile, had much greater ability to meet with their peers and make friends. I almost feel like Wei Wuxian wound up being shoved into this role simply because even as a child Jiang Cheng was so unsociable that Jiang Fengmian didn’t know what else to do!
Wei Wuxian also at least once steps in and starts a fight in place of Jiang Cheng (essentially taking the fall for him). He does this when Jin Zixuan speaks disparagingly of Jiang Yanli at Cloud Recesses:
Jin ZiXuan asked in reply, “Why don’t you ask me how on Earth can I be satisfied with her?”
Jiang Cheng instantly stood up.
Pushing him to the side, Wei WuXian walked in front of him and sneered, “You sure think that you’re pretty satisfying, don’t you? Where did you get the guts to be all choosy here?”
[...]
Wei WuXian sighed, “… It’d be nice if shijie came. It’s fortunate that you didn’t hit him.”
Jiang Cheng, “I was going to. If you didn’t push me, the other side of Jin ZiXuan’s face would also be ruined.”
(Chapter 18, Exiled Rebels translation)
It’s also very notable that Wei Wuxian is never shown having friends outside of Jiang Cheng’s social circle, despite what an outgoing and friendly person he is. Any time he expresses interest in someone for himself, as with Lan Wangji, Jiang Cheng tries to nip it in the bud. Being unable to deter Wei Wuxian from Lan Wangji directly, Jiang Cheng instead tries to drive a wedge between them, constantly telling Wei Wuxian that Lan Wangji hates him.
“Yeah,” Nie HuaiSang spoke, “It looks like he really hates you, Wei-xiong. Lan WangJi usually… No, he never does something so impolite.”
Wei WuXian, “He hates me already? I wanted to apologize to him.”
Jiang Cheng sneered, “Apologizing now? Too late! Like his uncle, he surely thinks that you are evil and unruly to the core, and didn’t bother to pay you any attention.”
(Chapter 14, Exiled Rebels translation)
Jiang Cheng pulled him even closer, “It’s not as if you’re familiar with him! Don’t you see how much he hates you? You’re going to carry him? He probably doesn’t even want you a step closer to him.”
(Chapter 52, Exiled Rebels translation)
He even directly orders Wei Wuxian not to invite Lan Wangji to come visit him at Lotus Pier during the Lotus Seed Pod extra.
Wei WuXian, “Why are you so upset? My watermelon almost flew away! I was just being polite. Of course he wouldn’t come. Have you ever heard of him go anywhere by himself to have fun?”
Jiang Cheng had on a stern expression, “Let’s make this clear. I don’t want him to come, anyhow. Don’t invite him.”
(Chapter 125, Lotus Seed Pod, Exiled Rebels translation)
It’s not only Lan Wangji he tries to steer Wei Wuxian away from; he also interrupts his conversation with Wen Ning at the archery competition:
Wen QiongLin was probably one of Wen Clan’s disciples furthest in bloodline. His status was neither high nor low, yet his personality was timid. He didn’t dare do anything and even his speech stuttered. Through much practice, he had finally conjured up the courage to enter the competition, but he blew it because he was too nervous. If he didn’t receive the right guidance, perhaps the boy would hide his true self more and more from now on and never dare to perform in front of other people again. Wei WuXian encouraged him a couple of times and touched on a few areas of growth, correcting some miniscule problems that he had when he was shooting in the garden. Wen QiongLin listened so attentively that he didn’t even turn his eyes away, nodding uncontrollably.
Jiang Cheng, “Where did you find so much nonsense? The competition is starting soon. Get into the arena right now!”
Wei WuXian spoke to Wen QiongLin in a serious tone, “I’ll be off to the competition now. Later, you can see how I shoot when I’m in the arena…”
Jiang Cheng dragged him away, short of patience. He spat as he dragged, “See how you shoot? Do you think that you’re a model or something?!”
(Chapter 59, Exiled Rebels translation)
Even when it comes to Wei Wuxian’s friendly flirtation with Mianmian, Jiang Cheng has something to say and tries to deter him from her:
Jiang Cheng, “The one that MianMian gave you? I didn’t.”
Wei WuXian exclaimed his regret, “I’ll find her for another one later.”
Jiang Cheng frowned, “You’re at it again. You don’t really like her, do you? The girl does look fine, but it’s obvious that she doesn’t have much background. Maybe she isn’t even a disciple. She seems like the daughter of a servant.”
Wei WuXian, “What’s wrong with servants? I’m also the son of a servant, aren’t I?”
Jiang Cheng, “How can you compare to her? Whose servant is like you, having your master peel lotus seeds for you and boil you soup. I didn’t even get to have some!”
(Chapter 56, Exiled Rebels translation)
Jiang Cheng really does seem to view Wei Wuxian in a very proprietary light; he’s not allowed to have any friendships which don’t exist under Jiang Cheng’s direct control.
The idea that Wei Wuxian was meant to be Jiang Cheng’s servant-friend is reinforced at its darkest when Lotus Pier falls: both Yu Ziyuan and Jiang Fengmian’s last words to Wei Wuxian are an instruction to protect Jiang Cheng.
One hand holding him, Madam Yu grabbed Wei WuXian’s lapels with her other hand as though to strangle him to death. She spoke through clenched teeth, “… You damn little brat! I hate you! I hate you more than anything else! Look at what our sect has gone through for your sake!”
[...]
Madam Yu, “Don’t make such a fuss. It’ll loosen up when you’re somewhere safe. If anyone attacks you on the journey, it’ll protect you as well. Don’t come back. Go to Meishan straight away and find your sister!”
After she finished, she turned to Wei WuXian and pointed at him, “Wei Ying! Listen to me! Protect Jiang Cheng, protect him even if you die, do you understand?!”
[...]
Jiang FengMian stared into his eyes. Suddenly, he reached out. Only after pausing in the air did he finally touch Jiang Cheng’s head, slowly, “A-Cheng, be well.”
Wei WuXian, “Uncle Jiang, if anything happens to you, he won’t be well.”
Jiang FengMian turned his eyes to him, “A-Ying, A-Cheng… you must look after him.”
(Chapter 58, Exiled Rebels translation)
Even Jiang Fengmian, who supposedly favoured Wei Wuxian, only gives him instructions as pertains to his own son; he doesn’t spare a single last word for Wei Wuxian himself.
A Lower Status Family Member
It wasn’t uncommon throughout human history, across many cultures, for wealthy families to take in relatives who were orphaned or had otherwise fallen on hard times. They tended to have a lower status than the main family; they lived with them and were still a part of their social sphere, but were not quite equal, either. The English term for this is ‘poor relation’.
Obviously, Wei Wuxian isn’t actually a blood relative at all. But his position in the Jiang household definitely has some similarities. He lives in the main house, eats meals with the family, attends school with the son... He is even on some conditional levels accepted into the gentry of cultivation society. But he isn’t a full equal member of the family, either.
The fact that he’s Jiang Fengmian’s ward, not a blood relative or adopted into the main family, puts him at even more of a disadvantage. It seems that Jiang Fengmian paid for all of Wei Wuxian’s expenses:
Wei WuXian took a bite, “Back then, I didn’t even have to pay when I ate at the dock. I grabbed whatever I wanted, ate whatever I wanted; ran after I grabbed, walked as I ate. A month later, the vendor would get the reimbursement from Uncle Jiang.”
(Chapter 86, Exiled Rebels translation)
While this is a bit of conjecture, I gather that he was given access to family money as if he was part of the clan, and could just charge Yunmeng Jiang whenever he shopped in Lotus Pier. Which is great so long as Wei Wuxian is accepted in Yunmeng Jiang...but as we see during the Burial Mounds settlement period, the moment that acceptance fades, Wei Wuxian is left out in the cold without a single coin. And because he isn’t a member of the family, it’s a far easier matter for him to be thrown aside, as he was when Jiang Cheng grew angry with him over his decision to protect the Wens.
Of course, Chinese families traditionally did share their wealth, and still do nowadays. Ideally, in a loving family, this is a positive and means they all support each other; but when that isn’t the case, it leaves the victims of abuse vulnerable.
In Wei Wuxian’s case, he has some of the benefits of being a member of the Jiang clan, without ever actually being a member. He can be cast aside at any time, and he is never afforded the same respect by wider cultivation society which an inner clan member would have.
I don’t believe the novel ever directly addresses Wei Wuxian’s acceptance into the guest lectures at Cloud Recesses in this light, but the donghua actually has a very interesting little exchange about it which takes place between Nie Huaisang and a relative of his:
“Wei-xiong is just a disciple from Yunmeng. Why could he come to Gusu to study?”
“Wei-xiong is the son of Jiang-zongzhu’s old friend. He has been treated as their own son.”
“Oh, I see. That explains why they don’t look like master and servant, they seem like brothers.”
(MDZS Donghua, Episode 3, Guodong Subs)
Wei Wuxian was only allowed to attend these lectures, which seem to mainly be for sect heirs and inner clan members, on the grace of being Jiang Fengmian’s ward (and probably to accompany Jiang Cheng). While this exchange is not from the book, we never do see or hear about any of the other students being outer disciples rather than members of the main clan. Here’s what the novel had to say about it:
In that year, aside from the YunmengJiang Sect, there were also the young masters from other clans, sent to study here from parents who heard of the reputation. The young masters were all around fifteen or sixteen. Because the sects all knew the others, although they weren’t close, they had seen others’ faces before. It was widely known that, although Wei WuXian’s surname was not Jiang, he was the leading disciple of the sect leader of the YunmengJiang Sect—Jiang FengMian, and also the son of his friend who had passed away. In fact, the sect leader regarded him as his own child. This, along with how youths were not as concerned with status and ancestry as elders, they were soon friends. Only a few sentences passed, and everyone started to call others older brothers or younger brothers.
(Chapter 13, Exiled Rebels translation)
And Wei Wuxian isn’t treated as an equal at school, either; when he and his friends get up to mischief, he’s frequently the only one punished. Nie Huaisang even notes that Lan Qiren seems to be far harder on him than the other students:
Nie HuaiSang spoke, “Why does it seem like old man Lan is especially strict towards you? He always directs his scoldings at you.”
(Chapter 14, Exiled Rebels translation)
And we see Wei Wuxian being the sole one punished out of a group taken for granted by his friends multiple times:
As a result of cheating notes flying everywhere in the air, Lan WangJi suddenly attacked during the test, and caught a few initiators of the commotion. Lan QiRen exploded with anger, writing letters to the prominent clans to tell on them. He loathed Wei WuXian—in the beginning, although these disciples could hardly sit still, at least nobody started anything, and their buttocks were able to stick to their legs. However, now that Wei Ying came, the originally spineless brats were influenced by his encouragement, venturing out at night and drinking alcohol however they pleased. The unhealthy practices grew greater and greater. As he had expected, Wei Ying was one of the biggest threats to humanity!
Jiang FengMian replied, “Ying has always been like this. Please take care to discipline him, Mr. Lan.”
And so, Wei WuXian was punished again.
(Chapter 14, Exiled Rebels translation)
The boys were all cheating, but Wei Wuxian is the one punished most severely. This happens when he's caught sneaking alcohol, too (though to be fair to Lan Wangji, he probably was only punishing him, and himself alongside him, for being outside after curfew when he threw them off the wall).
Of course, Jiang Cheng didn’t dare to say that Wei WuXian was at fault. Thinking back, it was them who urged Wei WuXian to buy liquor. Each and every one of them should have been punished. He could only speak in a vague way, “It’s fine, it’s fine; it’s not that serious! He can walk. Wei WuXian, why are you still up there?!”
(Chapter 18, Exiled Rebels translation)
It’s not entirely unreasonable for the one who gets caught to take the punishment (what’s he going to do, rat his friends out?) but their ready acceptance of this does fit into a pattern.
Jiang Cheng’s top was tied at his waist. Hearing his mother’s chastise, he hastily put it over his head. Madam Yu scolded again, “And you boys! Can’t you see that A-Li’s here? Who taught you brats to dress like this in front of a girl!?”
Of course, it was needless to think who led the group. Thus, Madam Yu’s next sentence, as usual, was “Wei Ying! Do you want to die!?”
[...]
He could still feel some pain in his back, so he tossed the paddles to someone else, sat down, and felt the stinging piece of flesh, “How unfair. Nobody else was wearing anything, but why was I the only one who got scolded and beaten up?”
Jiang Cheng, “Because you hurt the eye the most with no clothes on, for sure.”
[...]
Everyone nodded. Wei WuXian, “Thanks for the praise, you guys. I’m even starting to feel some goose bumps.”
The shidi, “You’re welcome, Da-Shixiong. You protect us every single time. You deserve even more!”
(Chapter 125, Lotus Seed Pod, Exiled Rebels translation)
While we know that Yu Ziyuan is an abusive person in general, she abuses Wei Wuxian far more harshly than anyone else, even the outer disciples. It’s made clear to us in Lotus Seed Pods that she whips him regularly over minor infractions:
Madam Yu was even angrier, “How dare you run! Come back right now and kneel!” As she spoke, she let loose her whip with a flip of her wrist. Wei WuXian felt a searing pain slash across his back. He loudly exclaimed, “Ow!” And almost tripped on the ground.
(Chapter 125, Lotus Seed Pod, Exiled Rebels translation)
And that his back is heavily scarred from it:
He felt his back, covered in scars both old and new, and still couldn’t hold back the question he’d be thinking about, “How awfully unfair. Why is it that I’m the only one who gets beaten up, whenever something happens?”
(Chapter 125, Lotus Seed Pod, Exiled Rebels translation)
Rumours about this even made it outside of Lotus Pier; during their visit to the ancestral hall years later, Lan Wangji even states that he heard about some of it:
Lan WangJi had on an expression of understanding, “Kneeling as punishment?”
Wei WuXian mused, “How did you know? That’s right. Madam Yu punished me almost every day.”
Lan WangJi nodded, “I have heard of a few things.”
Wei WuXian, “It’s so famous that even people outside Yunmeng, even you Gusu people know—how could it be ‘a few things’? But, to be honest, in all these years, I’ve never seen a second woman whose temper was as bad as Madam Yu’s. She told me to go to the ancestral hall and kneel no matter how small the matter was. Hahaha…”
(Chapter 87, Exiled Rebels translation)
Wei Wuxian’s lower social standing is definitely a part of why Yu Ziyuan is able to abuse him so terribly and receive little to no censure for it. Everyone at Lotus Pier simply takes it for granted, with the exception of Jiang Yanli who at least does try to deflect her mother when she is angry with Wei Wuxian:
Yet, all of a sudden, someone’s quiet voice drifted by Madam Yu’s ear, “Mom, do you want to eat some watermelon…”
[...]
Jiang YanLi almost cried from her mother’s pinching, mumbling, “Mom, A-Xian and the others were hiding here to relieve the heat and I came here on my own. Don’t blame them… Do… Do you want some watermelon… I don’t know who gave them to us, but it’s really sweet. Eating watermelon in the summer is great for cooling down and quenching thirst. I’ll cut them for you…”
(Chapter 125, Lotus Seed Pod, Exiled Rebels translation)
She both tries to deflect her mother from her anger, and also outright states that Wei Wuxian and the other boys weren’t at fault. Jiang Yanli seems to be the only one at Lotus Pier who ever does this.
After the war, Wei Wuxian attends social events at Jiang Cheng’s side but is never quite treated as an equal, either. See how at the Flower Banquet, Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue greet Jiang Cheng but not him:
Suddenly, a voice spoke, “Sect Leader Nie, Sect Leader Lan.”
Hearing the familiar voice, Wei WuXian’s heart jumped. Nie MingJue turned around again. Jiang Cheng came over, dressed in purple, hand on his sword.
And the person standing beside Jiang Cheng was none other than Wei WuXian himself.
He saw himself walk with hands behind his back, wearing all black. A flute in the shade of ink stuck to his waist, hanging down with crimson colored tassels. Standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Jiang Cheng, he nodded in this direction to show respect. Attitude slightly arrogant, he took on a profound, disdainful appearance. As Wei WuXian saw the stance of his younger self, the root of his teeth even cringed in soreness. He felt that he really was pretentious, and itched to just beat the hell out of himself.
Lan WangJi also saw Wei WuXian, who stood beside Jiang Cheng. The tip of his brows twitched ever so slightly. Soon afterward, his light-colored eyes returned to where they were, still looking forward in that composed way. Jiang Cheng and Nie MingJue nodded at each other with grave faces. Neither had anything unnecessary to say. After a hasty greeting, the two walked their separate ways. Wei WuXian saw his black-clothed self glance around as he finally saw Lan WangJi. He looked as if he was about to speak before Jiang Cheng came over and stood to his side.
(Chapter 49, Exiled Rebels translation)
They then proceed to talk about him and his lack of a sword behind his back, never having said a word to Wei Wuxian himself:
Nie MingJue’s gaze turned over again, “Why does Wei Ying not carry his sword?”
Carrying one’s sword was like wearing formal attire. In such gatherings, it was a non-negligible indication of etiquette. Those from prominent sects saw it as especially important. Lan WangJi responded in a lukewarm tone, “He had probably forgotten.”
Ning MingJue raised a brow, “He can even forget something like this?”
(Chapter 49, Exiled Rebels translation)
At Phoenix Mountain it also seems that Wei Wuxian is conditionally a member of the gentry, but not treated like an equal. Sometimes there are these more cheerful interactions:
Holding the flower, Lan WangJi seemed to be quite cold. His tone seemed cold as well, “Was it you?”
Wei WuXian immediately denied it, “No, it wasn’t.”
The maidens beside him spoke at once, “Don’t believe him. It was him!”
Wei WuXian, “How could you treat a good person like this? I’m getting angry!”
Giggling, the maidens pulled their reins and went to the formations of their own sects. Lan WangJi lowered the hand that he held the flower with and shook his head. Jiang Cheng spoke, “ZeWu-Jun, HanGuang-Jun, apologies. Don’t pay attention to him.”
Lan XiChen smiled, “That is fine. I will thank Young Master Wei’s kindness behind the flower in place of WangJi.”
(Chapter 69, Exiled Rebels translation)
But then he will be publicly disparaged and it is readily accepted by others. Jin Zixun first starts an argument with him by criticising Wei Wuxian for fighting Jin Zixuan, then turns the topic to Wei Wuxian’s having taken a third of the prey in the hunt.
Jin ZiXun, “Wei, just what what do you mean by going against ZiXuan so many times?”
[...]
Jin ZiXun sneered, “How is it presumptuous? How is any part of you not presumptuous? Today, in such an important hunt involving all of the sects, you really showed off your abilities, didn’t you? One third of the prey have been taken by you. You sure feel pleased, don’t you?”
[...]
He mocked, “But it’s only natural that you don’t think you’re in the wrong. It’s not the first time that Young Master Wei has disregarded the rules. You didn’t wear your sword in both last time’s flower banquet and this time’s hunt. It’s such a grand event, and you care nothing for courtesy. In what regard to you hold us, the people who are present with you?”
[...]
No disciple had ever dared say such lofty words in front of so many people. A moment later, as Jin ZiXun finally regained his composure, he yelled, “Wei WuXian! You’re only the son of a servant—how dare you be so bold!!!”
(Chapters 69-70, Exiled Rebels translation)
Naturally, Jin Zixun is able to weasel out of giving an apology, even though Jiang Yanli demands one. And guess who also takes a third of the prey, but this time without any censure?
Jin GuangYao, “In reality, not only did Young Master Wei keep a third of the prey to himself, our eldest brother has eliminated over half of the fays and the monsters as well.”
Hearing this, Lan XiChen laughed, “That is how Brother is like, after all.”
(Chapter 70, Exiled Rebels translation)
Never a Brother
As I’ve already mentioned, Wei Wuxian was never adopted by Jiang Fengmian, or adopted into the clan in general in even a distant way. And this nebulous ‘we’re letting you live with the main family as a charity, but you aren’t really one of us’ attitude also reflects in his relationship with Jiang Yanli.
I’ve already discussed how Wei Wuxian was more like a companion servant to Jiang Cheng than a brother. It’s also worth noting quickly that neither of them ever refers to the other as a brother. Wei Wuxian refers to Jiang Cheng as his shidi a few times, and Jiang Cheng never even refers to him as his shixiong (because Jiang Cheng views him as his servant, not as even a martial brother, I’d argue).
Only one member of the Jiang family ever does use familial terms to refer to Wei Wuxian: his shijie, Jiang Yanli. At Phoenix Mountain, when Wei Wuxian is being insulted by Jin Zixun, Jiang Yanli stands up and defends him, and states clearly that she considers Wei Wuxian a little brother:
The people who gathered around Jin ZiXun had on the same dark faces as he did. Yet, taking into consideration Jiang YanLi’s background, they didn’t dare talk back to her directly.
Jiang YanLi added, “Besides, hunting is hunting, so why bring the matter of discipline to the table? A-Xian is a disciple of the YunmengJiang Sect. He grew up with my brother and I, and so he’s as close as a brother is to me. Calling him the ‘son of a servant’—I’m sorry, but I won’t accept this. And thus…”
She straightened her back and raised her voice, “I hope that Young Master Jin ZiXun would apologize to Wei WuXian of the YunmengJiang Sect!”
(Chapter 70, Exiled Rebels translation)
It doesn’t come through in the Exiled Rebels translation, but she actually refers to Wei Wuxian as her didi in this scene, not her shidi. She’s trying to draw a line and state that Wei Wuxian is a part of the family. However, no one takes her seriously, and shortly afterwards we see Jin-furen insisting that Jiang Yanli and Wei Wuxian shouldn’t be walking alone together because it would be inappropriate.
Jiang YanLi whispered, “That’s not necessary. I’d like to have a few words with A-Xian. He can walk me back.”
Madam Jin raised her brows, looking Wei WuXian up and down. Her gaze was somewhat cautious, as if she was feeling displeased, “A young man and a young woman—you two can’t stick together all the time if nobody else is present.”
Jiang YanLi, “A-Xian is my younger brother.”
[...]
Wei WuXian lowered his head, “Excuse my absence, Madam Jin.”
He and Jiang YanLi bowed at the same time. As they turned around to leave, Madam Jin grabbed Jiang YanLi’s hand and refused to let her leave.
(Chapter 70, Exiled Rebels translation)
Jin Zixuan also never treats Wei Wuxian the way one might a brother who is still angered with him over his past dismissive treatment of his sister. For example, see their argument at the Flower Banquet:
Before he could see how Lan WangJi reacted, a series of clamor suddenly came from the other end of the base. Wei WuXian heard his own raging shout, “Jin ZiXuan! Don’t you forget about what things you said and what things you did? What do you mean by this, now?!”
Wei WuXian remembered. So it was this time!
On the other side, Jin ZiXuan also fumed, “I was asking Sect Leader Jiang, not you! The one I was asking about was also Maiden Jiang. How is that related to you?!”
[...]
Jin ZiXuan, “Sect Leader Jiang—this is our sect’s flower banquet, and this is your sect’s person! Are you going to look after him or not?!”
[...]
...Jiang Cheng’s voice came, “Wei WuXian, you can just shut your mouth. Young Master Jin, I’m sorry. My sister is doing quite well. Thank you for your concern. We can talk about this next time.”
Wei WuXian laughed coldly, “Next time? There is no next time! Whether or not she’s doing well isn’t any of his business, either! Who does he think he is?”
He turned around and started to leave. Jiang Cheng shouted, “Get back here! Where are you going?”
Wei WuXian waved his hands, “Anywhere is fine! Just don’t let me see that face of his. I never wanted to come, anyway. You can deal with whatever’s here yourself.”
Having been abandoned by Wei WuXian, Jiang Cheng’s face immediately clouded over.
[...]
Jiang Cheng stowed away the clouds on his face, “Don’t mind him. Look at how impolite he is. He’s used to such rude behavior at home.”
He then began to converse with Jin ZiXuan.
(Chapter 49, Exiled Rebels translation)
Jiang Cheng also quietly dismisses the notion of Wei Wuxian as a brother in relation to Jiang Yanli; when they visit to show him her wedding dress and she asks for a courtesy name, Jiang Cheng specifically says:
Jiang Cheng, “The courtesy name of my unborn nephew.”
(Chapter 75, Exiled Rebels translation)
Not our nephew, mine.
Even the disastrous invitation to Jin Ling’s one month celebration is framed as a favour to an old shidi, not a family member:
Jin ZiXun, “Since you’ve heard it from him already, you should know that I can’t wait. Don’t tell me that you’ll disregard your brother’s life for the sake of Sister-in-Law’s shidi?!”
Jin ZiXuan, “You clearly know that I’m not that kind of person! He might not necessarily be the one who cursed you with Hundred Holes either. Why are you so rash? I was the one who invited Wei WuXian to A-Ling’s full-month celebration anyways. If this is the way you do things, where does that leave me? Where does it leave my wife?”
Jin ZiXun raised his voice, “It’s best if he doesn’t attend! What does Wei WuXian think he is—does he deserve to attend our sect’s banquet? Whoever touches him gets nothing but a splash of black! ZiXuan, when you invited him, weren’t you worried that you, Sister-in-Law and A-Ling would receive an irremovable stain for the rest of your lives?!”
(Chapter 76, Exiled Rebels translation)
It’s clear that not only does wider society not consider Wei Wuxian and the Jiangs siblings...they themselves don’t, either. Wei Wuxian, after all, readily accepts that his relationship with them is over after he leaves the sect:
Before they parted, Jiang Cheng spoke, “We won’t see you off. It wouldn’t be good if someone saw us.”
Wei WuXian nodded. He understood that it wasn’t easy for the Jiang siblings to have come out here. If someone else saw them, all those things they did for the public to believe would be wasted. He spoke, “We’ll go first.”
[...]
He turned around, knowing that it’d be a long time before he’d get to see the people he was familiar with again.
But… right now, wasn’t he on his way to seeing people he was familiar with as well?
(Chapter 75, Exiled Rebels translation)
Cast Aside
The way cultivation society treats Wei Wuxian when he is not with the Jiangs is also very revealing. Any level of respect he is given is contingent on his position in the Jiang household, and when they aren’t around that minimal respect fades away. Look at how disrespectfully he is treated when he approaches Jin Zixun to ask for Wen Ning’s location.
Wei WuXian didn’t make small talk either, getting straight to the point, “No thanks. I don’t.” He nodded slightly at Jin ZiXun, “Young Master Jin, could I please have a word with you?”
Jin ZiXun, “If you have anything to say, come after our banquet is over.”
In reality, he didn’t want to talk to Wei WuXian at all. Wei WuXian could see this as well, “How long do I have to wait?”
Jin ZiXun, “Probably around six to eight hours. Or maybe ten to twelve. Or until tomorrow.”
Wei WuXian, “I’m afraid I can’t wait for that long.”
Jin ZiXun’s voice was arrogant, “You’ll have to wait even if you can’t.”
Jin GuangYao, “Young Master Wei, what do you need ZiXun for? Is it a pressing matter?”
Wei WuXian, “Pressing indeed. It allows for no delay.”
[...]
Jin ZiXun, “Wei WuXian, what do you mean? You came for him? You aren’t standing up for a Wen-dog, are you?”
Wei WuXian wore a broad grin, “Since when is it your business whether I’d like to stand up for him or cut his head off? Just give him to me!”
At the last sentence, the grin on his face vanished. His tone turned cold as well. It was clear that he had lost his patience. Many of the people within Glamor Hal shivered in fear. Jin ZiXun felt his scalp tingle as well. Yet, his anger soon soared. He shouted, “Wei WuXian, you are too bold! Did the LanlingJin Sect invite you today? And you dare run wild here. Do you really think that you’re invincible, that nobody has the courage to confront you? Do you want to overturn the Heavens?”
Wei WuXian smiled, “You’re comparing yourself to the Heavens? Excuse my language, but your face is a little too thick, isn’t it?”
[...]
Just as he was about to rebut, sitting on the foremost seat, Jin GuangShan spoke up.
His voice seemed kind, “It’s not anything too important anyways. You youngsters, why lose your tempers over such a thing? However, Young Master Wei, let me be fair here. Barging in when the LanlingJin Sect is holding a private banquet is indeed inappropriate.”
To say that Jin GuangShan didn’t mind what happened at Phoenix Mountain would be impossible. This was also why he only smiled when Jin ZiXun bickered with Wei WuXian but didn’t stop them, and only spoke up when Jin ZiXun was at the disadvantage.
Wei WuXian nodded, “Sect Leader Jin, it was never my intention to disturb your private banquet. My apologies. However, the whereabouts of the people whom Young Master Jin took are still unclear. Just a moment of delay, and it might be too late. One of the group had once saved me before. I will definitely not sit back and watch. Please do not feel pressured. I will make amends for this at a later date.”
[...]
After a few laughs, he continued, “Sect Leader Jin, let me ask you something else. Do you think that, because the QishanWen Sect is gone, the LanlingJin Sect has all right to replace it?”
All was silent within Glamor Hall.
Wei WuXian added, “Everything has to be given to you? Everyone has to listen to you? Looking at how the LanlingJin Sect does things, I almost thought that it was the QishanWen Sect’s empire all over again.”
[...]
A guest cultivator on his right shouted, “Wei WuXian! Watch your words!”
Wei WuXian, “Did I say something wrong? Forcing living people to be bait and beating them up whenever they refused to obey—is this any different from what the QishanWen Sect does?”
Another guest cultivator stood up, “Of course it’s different. The Wen-dogs did all kinds of evil. To arrive at such an end is only karma for them. We only avenged a tooth for a tooth, letting them taste the fruit that they themselves had sown. What’s wrong with this?”
Wei WuXian, “Take revenge on the ones who bite you. Wen Ning’s branch doesn’t have much blood on their hands. Don’t tell me that you find them guilty by association?”
Another person spoke, “Young Master Wei, is it that they don’t have much blood on their hands just because you say so? These are only your one-sided words. Where’s the evidence?”
[...]
Jin GuangShan stood up as well, his face a mixture of shock, anger, fear, and hatred, “Wei WuXian! Just because… Sect Leader Jiang isn’t here doesn’t mean you can be so reckless!”
Wei WuXian’s voice was harsh, “Do you think that I wouldn’t be reckless if he were here? If I wanted to kill someone, who could stop me, and who would dare stop me?!”
[...]
“Young Master Wei really is too impulsive. How could he speak in such a way in front of so many sects?”
Lan WangJi spoke coldly, “Was he wrong?”
Jin GuangYao paused almost unnoticeably. He immediately laughed, “Haha. Yes, he’s right. But it’s because he’s right that he can’t say it in front of them, correct?”
Lan XiChen seemed as if he was deep in thought, “Young Master Wei’s heart really has changed.”
(Chapter 72, Exiled Rebels translation)
The only person at this banquet who speaks to Wei Wuxian respectfully is Jin Guangyao, a consummate manipulator who is also of a lower social status. Everyone else speaks to him dismissively, refusing to respect his request for Wen Ning’s location even though he states that Wen Ning helped him during the war. Wei Wuxian is extremely polite at the beginning of this conversation, and only slowly begins to lose his temper when Jin Zixun speaks rudely and Jin Guangshan decides to bring up the matter of the Yinhufu (Wei Wuxian is right in suspecting him of wanting to replace Qishan Wen, of course, and that it’s very bold of them to think they have the right to a spiritual tool of his just because...they’re rich?).
When the sects meet at Koi Tower to discuss the breakout at Qiongqi Path, no one considers Wei Wuxian as an independent agent who they might actually want to meet and negotiate with themselves. He is a wayward servant of Yunmeng Jiang who the sect leader has failed to keep in hand.
Jiang Cheng only spoke after a few moments, “What he did was indeed a bit too much. Sect Leader Jin, I apologize to you in place of him. If there’s any way at all to help the situation, please let me know. I’ll definitely compensate for things however I can.”
[...]
Jin GuangShan, “Sect Leader Jiang, Wei Ying is your right-hand man. You value him a lot. All of us know this. However, on the other hand, it’s hard to tell whether or not he actually respects you. In any case, I’ve been a sect leader for so many years and I’ve never seen the servant of any sect dare be so arrogant, so proud. Have you heard what they say outside? Things like how during the Sunshot Campaign the victories of the YunmengJiang Sect were all because of Wei WuXian alone—what nonsense!”
[...]
Lan WangJi sat with his back straight, speaking in a tone of absolute tranquility, “I did not hear Wei Ying say this. I did not hear him express the slightest disrespect towards Sect Leader Jiang either.”
[...]
The good thing was that, not long after he felt awkward, Jin GuangYao came to save the day, exclaiming, “Really? That day, Young Master Wei busted into Koi Tower with such force. He said too many things, one more shocking than the next. Perhaps he said a few things that were along those lines. I can’t remember them either.”
[...]
Jin GuangShan followed the transition, “That’s right. Anyhow, his attitude has always been arrogant.”
One of the sect leaders added, “To be honest, I’ve wanted to say this since a long time ago. Although Wei WuXian did a few things during the Sunshot Campaign, there are many guest cultivators who did more than him. I’ve never seen anyone as full of themselves as him. Excuse my bluntness, but he’s the son of a servant. How could the son of a servant be so arrogant?”
[...]
“In the beginning, Sect Leader Jin asked Wei Ying for the Tiger Seal with nothing but good intentions, worried that he wouldn’t be able to control it and lead to a disaster. He, however, used his own yardstick to measure another’s intents. Did he think that everyone is after his treasure? What a joke. In terms of treasures, is there any sect that doesn’t hold a few treasures?”
“I knew that something would eventually happen if he continued on the ghostly path—look! His killing intents are being revealed already. Killing indiscriminately those from our side just because of a few Wen-dogs…”
[...]
Jin GuangShan continued, “Sect Leader Jiang, you’re not like your father. It’s just been a couple of years since the reestablishment of the YunmengJiang Sect, precisely when you should be displaying your power. And he doesn’t even know to avoid suspicions. What would the Jiang Sect’s new disciples think if they saw him? Don’t tell me you’d let them see him as their role model and look down on you?”
He spoke one sentence after another, striking the iron while it was still hot. Jiang Cheng spoke slowly, “Sect Leader Jin, that’s enough. I’ll go to Burial Mound and deal with this.”
Jin GuangShan felt satisfied, speaking in a sincere tone, “That’s the spirit. Sect Leader Jiang, there are some things, some people that you shouldn’t put up with.”
(Chapter 73, Exiled Rebels translation)
This is very reminiscent of the way that Jin Zixuan would often turn around and say, ‘Why aren’t you controlling your servant?’ to Jiang Cheng whenever he had a dispute with Wei Wuxian over his treatment of Jiang Yanli.
When Jiang Cheng goes to the Burial Mounds and Wei Wuxian defects from Yunmeng Jiang in order to help the sect save face, Jiang Cheng treats this as a personal betrayal. He not only challenges Wei Wuxian to a duel but then announces that Wei Wuxian has betrayed Yunmeng Jiang and declared himself the enemy of cultivation society:
After the fight, Jiang Cheng told the outside that Wei WuXian defected from the sect and was an enemy to the entire cultivation world. The YunmengJiang Sect had already cast him out. From then on, no ties remained between them—a clear line was drawn. Henceforth, no matter what he did, they’d have nothing to do with the YunmengJiang Sect!
(Chapter 73, Exiled Rebels translation)
“Wei Wuxian has betrayed the sect, and publicly regards all cultivation sects as enemy! Yunmeng Jiang Sect hereby expels him, breaking all ties with him and drawing a clear line between us. Henceforth, no matter what this person does, it will have nothing to do with Yunmeng Jiang Sect!”
(Modao Zushi Radio Drama, Season 3 Episode 5, Suibian Subs)
Naturally, no one ever questions this or wants to hear Wei Wuxian’s side of the story. Jiang Cheng is a sect leader and Wei Wuxian his servant, and that is all cultivation society needs to know.
In Conclusion
Wei Wuxian was never really part of the Jiang family. The wider social view was that he was a servant who was lucky to be taken in by the family and allowed to live in the main house alongside the sect leader’s children. He’s accepted into cultivation society conditionally, but only as someone who remains a rank below everyone else.
This attitude isn’t just the wider social view which the family themselves disregard; they all play into it. Yu Ziyuan and Jiang Cheng both actively enforce it, Jiang Fengmian passively enforces it, and Jiang Yanli tries but fails to break through the social barriers between them.
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harryspet · 4 years
Text
caged bird | s.rogers, p.parker & b.barnes
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[Warnings] dark!steve rogers x reader, dark!peter parker x reader, dark!bucky barnes x reader, polyamory, prison au, noncon/dubcon sex, this plot scenario is very unrealistic but oh well,  reader makes a deal so she can survive, hella manipulation, dominants/submissive, oral sex (male recieving), hella angst, shower sex, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK
A/N: this is like a really f’d up situation so enjoy :):):) i also wrote this over the span of two weeks so i’m sorry if the pacing is weird and (also x2) this is nowhere near canon
In which you have to make a deal with three devils in order to survive in The Cage.
word count: 4.8k
main masterlist
Your eyelids were heavy though the bright light outside the bus was forcing you awake. Your limbs shackled to the seat, it reminded you that you had lost your freedom so quickly and that you’d probably never have a good night of sleep ever again, “How long?” Your mouth was dry, the heat from the wasteland you were driving through crept through the window. 
“Twenty minutes, princess,” Officer Rumlow looked you over for the millionth time like you were fresh meat ready for the slaughter. His perceptions weren’t far off and that’s what scared you the most. You weren’t cut out for a place like the Cage. 
A week ago you thought this place was fictional, a nightmare tale that was used to scare the new employees. It was still a nightmare but you were now living in it. You thought your heart might explode out of your chest as the facility finally came into view. Five stories of complete concrete surrounded by two, hundred-foot fences and surrounded by a barren wasteland. 
You were the only one on the bus. The Cage rarely received new inmates due to the nature of crimes that the prison was built for. Vigilantes and government traitors. Many used to consider them heroes but they were unregulated and dangerous. That's how they ended up here and, your boss, Alexander Pierce had sold you out to save himself.
“When … W-When am I going to get my phone call?” You asked as the bus entered the gates of the prison, finally stopping at the processing center. 
Rumlow chuckled, walking over to unchain your shackles from the floor of the bus, “Who are you going to call, princess? Mommy and Daddy?” He grabbed you roughly by your upper arm, pulling you out of your seat and dragging you down the steps of the bus. 
You refused to accept that you had been erased. Your parents probably thought you were only missing, not that you had been wrongly accused of betraying the government and had been thrown into the most dangerous prison in the country. 
“They can’t do this,” You winced as your arm stung, “No trial. No jury. T-This is illegal!”
Rumlow ignored you, and you had to pick up your pace in order to not fall down. Your eyes wandered around, the sun nearly blinding you and stinging your skin at the same time. You noticed in the distance a group of male inmates standing behind a wired fence, wearing the same navy jumpsuit as you, and even from far away, you could see cold and hungry glances. 
You thought you were lucky for a minute since you were a woman but then you remembered what kind of women probably lived here. As you were brought inside, past several guards, through metal detectors and pat-downs. 
When you got to the body cavity search, you expected to part way with Rumlow. Standing in a small, cold room, Rumlow stood in the doorway with his hands casually in the pockets of his pants, “Undress, inmate,” Your eyes widened and you quickly crossed your arms, “Slowly, if you don’t mind.”
“I-I do mind,” You said quickly, “I’m supposed to have a female officer-”
“You don’t get those kinds of privileges in the Cage. We don’t separate inmates by gender,” You shook your head as your eyebrows began to furrow. 
“That’s insane-”
“Undress, inmate,” He said more sternly this time, “Or would you like me to do it for you? You’re lucky I don’t make you put on a show for the rest of the guards.”
You shook your head again, tears starting to form in your tired eyes, “Please don’t-” You tried to plead with him but, as you did, you watched him reach for his baton, “Okay, okay!”
Rumlow smiled a wicked smile, “Good. Bend over and cough, inmate. Let me see that cute, little ass of yours.”
+
When you finally got to see a female officer, she was escorting you to your cell. In your hands, you held the rest of your life which included one more set of clothes, bedding, and a toothbrush. You had to eat what the prison provided and you could only earn extra commissary from working. Hela tried to explain everything to you but you were only latching onto every other world. 
You walked along a slim passageway which had cells to the right and a metal railing to the left. There were three floors of cells and they seemed to go all the way around in a circle. Passed the railing and in the middle of the dome was where it seemed most of the inmates were gathered. 
The shouting, laughing, and fighting echoed through the dome and you couldn’t help but think those calls were for you. You could barely carry your bag of things and walk straight without stumbling. If they couldn’t send your weakness from your appearance then they’d surely sniff it out soon. 
“This can’t be allowed,” You whispered to Officer Hela, though her dark hair mixed with the look of death in her eyes didn’t scream “empathy” to you, “There has to be some sort of rule-”
She stopped in front of an empty, six by eight-foot cell which told you that this would be your new home, “You can sit in solitary if you like,” She spoke coldly, “Your meals get brought to you and you don’t have to deal with the animals in here but there’s no time outside. It’s easy to lose track of the days and forget which voices are real and which ones are inside your head. If you prefer to go insane before you die then I’d recommend that route.”
There wasn’t much of a choice to make and you found your feet moving before your brain could register. You stepped inside the cell, setting down your things on the bottom bunk, “A girl like you is going to need to latch onto a group, pledge your allegiance, and do not let them question your loyalty. They live by a different code here and following it is life or death, do you understand?”
You slowly nodded as you listened and part of you was grateful that she wasn’t completely cold, “T-Thank you-”
She scoffed, “Such a precious little thing … I give you a week,” With that, she turned on her heel and you felt hopeless once again, “I’ll escort you to dinner-”
You shook your head, “I’m not hungry.” You were actually starving but you could not yet face the beast. 
She only shrugged and pulled the door closed. The light above you flickered and you stared back down at your bunk. You were holding back your tears as you tried to make up your bed. Staring at the flimsy mattress material only made you more depressed so you decided just to lay down. Facing the wall, your tired eyes roamed over what was scribbled on the walls. 
S.H.I.E.L.D. is evil. 
S.H.I.E.L.D. is corrupt. 
You hated that the words initially sent a wave of anger through you. You hated that you still felt loyal to that group of monsters. You were a low level worker with good standing and they had just sent you to die?
With your face tucked into your arm, you cried yourself to sleep. 
+
The next day you had no choice but to face your fears. You couldn’t go any longer without food and, in a place like this, you needed to keep your energy up. Before the sun was even out, you heard the mechanical click of the cell door. Your favorite officer, Rumlow, made sure to stop by your cell during roll call. 
“So you decided on general population,” He popped the gum he was chewing, looking you over, “I’m sad to hear it, I was gonna visit you every day in solitary but I guess we’ll get some alone time soon enough.”
You scowled at him and a shiver went through you as he continued pass your cell. You were now grateful that you had chosen general population. 
That feeling didn’t last as inmates started moving from their cells down to breakfast. You stayed back, waiting to slip out of your cell when the crowd had passed. You lingered in the back of the line but no one seemed to notice you until you were in the kitchen line. The first reaction was a quiet murmur that went through the group of (mostly) men at the sight of you. 
You didn’t quite match anyone's stature, not even the women. At least they looked like they could take care of themselves. You were sure that your face probably had dark circles and sunken in features. You looked down when you felt someone's eyes on you and you cringed at every word whispered about you. 
“If I could just get my hands on her …”
“I wonder what a little girl like that could’ve done to get in here.”
“I’d be real gentle with her …” “I wouldn’t … I’d make her scream …”
“Move along,” Hela barked at the inmates in the line. You tried to tune them out as a staff member handed you your tray of food. A stale piece of toast, plastic-looking eggs, peaches, and what looked like could be oatmeal. 
It was when you turned away that you felt a pinch on your bottom. You turned around quickly only to find yourself staring at a chest rather than a face. As you looked up, a man with long, dark black hair stared down at you, “Aren’t you adorable?”
“I said move along, inmates,” You looked towards Hela for some sort of help but didn’t receive any. 
When you looked back again, the man had disappeared. You shook it off, figuring that was the least of what you were about to experience today. As you stepped out into the middle of the dome, you remembered the advice that Hela had managed to give you. 
There were cliques formed at each circular, metal table and you looked each one over as you walked past them. Again, people stared and said vile things but you spotted a table where two women were sitting. They were much older than you but the look you got from them was not maternal in the least. 
“Can I… sit here?” You knew the answer based on their thin-lipped scowls. 
You weren’t like any of them … you were fragile. Besides that, you used to work for S.H.I.E.L.D. and the organization was responsible for locking half of these people away. You kept walking, eventually finding an empty table to sit at. 
All you could think about now was eating. You picked at your tray with your plastic fork, and with each bite of the food you cringed. The toast was also completely rock hard, “It helps if you dip it in water,” Your head snapped up as you felt a shadow over you before someone took a seat beside you. 
You weren’t expecting someone so young and you certainly weren’t expecting a friendly smile. You stared at the handsome man with your mouth agape. You hadn’t realized what he meant until you looked back down at the bread in your hands, “Oh … I doubt anything would make this edible-”
He ran his hand through his light brown hair, before reaching into the pocket of his jumpsuit. On the table in front of you, he placed a twinkie. The entire room seemed to go quiet for a moment and you realized that everyone was watching the two of you. 
“I can’t accept this …”
“Of course you can, it’s no big deal,” His brown eyes pierced into yours as he shrugged, “I’m Peter.”
The sugary, process food was calling your name but you still weren’t sure what his deal was, “T-Thank you,” Not wanting to come off rude, you accepted it, unknowingly beginning to seal your fate, “I’m … I’m-”
“Y/N Y/LN,” He finished for you which left your eyes wide with shock, “You’re already famous. The guards like to gossip and it’s rare we get new inmates so people get curious.”
“Oh,” You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. 
“Don’t worry, some people in here care about your charges, how you got here, but not me,” He tried to reassure you, a smile tugging at his lips, “S.H.I.E.L.D. screwed us all and I don’t think there’s a point in playing who’s the better bad guy.”
You looked around. Now that you knew that people knew your charges and your history, you were starting to feel unsettled. The only thing keeping you grounded was him reassuring you that he didn’t care, “How long-” Your voice came out in a whisper, “How long have you been here?”
Peter took a breath as he thought for a moment, “Few years. Now I kinda forget that I was a normal teenager when this all started.”
Years. And he was a teenager when they brought him here? Did they have no limits to their cruelty?
“God,” You breathed out, overwhelmed, “I don’t think I can … do this-”
Peter reached out, placing a calm hand on your arm, “Hey, hey, you have to survive here. Whether you were meant to be here or not, you have to live like this is your reality. Looking like you’re about to vomit is not a good look to everyone else. I saw Loki over there … he’s an asshole touching you like that  but it’s because he’s already sniffed you out.”
You nodded, trying to stay calm, “But I don’t know how to look … to look less weak.”
“For one, you’re going to have to start eating more and building some muscle,” You could tell by his grip on your arm that he was quite strong, “And the next time someone disrespects you, you have to stand up for yourself. You also can’t just bark like a little chihuahua. Maybe you could pick someone out, someone that you could win in a fight against.”
As Peter started to scan the room, you immediately started shaking your hand, “I can’t just attack someone,” You whisper-shouted, your eyes wide with worry. 
Peter chuckled, “Not with that attitude. Maybe you could go for Heather over there,” He eyed a woman who was practically elderly, “She has a cane so even you could probably overpower though I’ve seen here use the thing as a weapon a few times-”
“Peter,” You spoke sharply, “There has to be another way.”
Peter looked into your eyes and you lost hope for a moment until he seemed to perk up, “I have some friends, we kind of run together in this place, looking out for each other,” Peter explained and you listened intently, hoping for a means of survival that didn’t require attacking an old lady, “I could probably convince them to start looking out for you too. But it won’t be easy, we take loyalty very seriously here, and it wouldn’t be without a cost to you.”
“What sort of cost?”
Peter shrugged, “Could be lots of things. They serve plums on Friday and Bucky loves those so maybe you’d show your support to the group by giving him yours. Something like that,” You followed Peter’s finger as he pointed two men out, one with dark hair and the other with light. Both were built like bodybuilders, “Steve’s a respected leader here and maybe you could help run messages for him.” 
You nodded, “T-That sounds fair,” You paused for a moment as the men eyed you, “And for the twinkie? What do you want?”
“Now you’re starting to get it,” Peter grinned, “Eat it and that means you accept our claim. You’re one of us.”
“Can’t I have time to think about it?” 
Peter seemed to hesitate for the first time, “I’m sure you won’t get a better offer,” Your face fell, “But sure. I’d be quick about it though. Those big, doe eyes aren’t going to work on everybody.”
+
The dark-haired one was following you. Loki, Peter called him, hadn’t taken his eyes off you ever since you parted ways with Peter yesterday. He and his greek god, blonde friend were now walking behind you as you made your way through the halls. They were pushing mop buckets, evidently taking a break from their cleaning duty. 
You had gotten lost trying to find the hospital wing and now you were paying the consequences. 
“Little bird … caged and unprotected,” He taunted you and your heartbeat quickened as you tried to keep from looking back,  “Not even the guards want to save her. Poor thing.”
“It seems she’s in need of protecting, brother.”
“Protecting? If I got my hands on her, the last thing I’d think of is being gentle-”
You turned into the first room you passed, expecting to find somewhere to hide but you only seemed to encounter more people. It was the TV room, a staticy old television airing a baseball game was hanging in the corner of the room, and a bunch of men were sitting at different tables. 
They all turned their heads to you as you interrupted and you immediately recognized the two men from Peter’s loyal “group”. Bucky and Steve. Your heart was out of your chest at the point and you found yourself whispering a “sorry” before turning back towards the door. Loki and his brother, however, were waiting patiently. 
Loki leaned in the doorway, eyeing you like you were fresh meat. 
“Is this jackass bothering you, hon?” Your eyes wide with fear, you quickly realized that it wasn’t Loki taunting you. The dark-haired man’s, you remembered Peter calling him Bucky, voice boomed through the room.
You froze.
“Don’t you have toilets to scrub, Laufeyson?” The light hair man with a thick beard spoke, and by the look on his face you could tell he was a man of power. Not so much power-hungry but someone that demanded respect and often received it. 
Loki scoffed, looking over you again, “As far as I know, this one is free territory.”
“Well, this room is my territory and guess where she happens to be standing,” Loki’s jaw clenched at Steve’s words. 
“C’mere, hon,” Bucky spoke to you, signaling to cross the room. She hesitated but only for a moment as you realized your choices were Peter’s friends or letting Loki, have you. You crossed the room cautiously towards them, everyone now looking at you. You paused awkwardly in front of the table but a small yelp left your lip as Bucky grabbed you by the arm, spinning you into his lap. 
“See,” Steve said as you uncomfortably tried your best not to squirm, “Don’t touch things that aren’t yours, Laufeyson.”
You felt a hand clench your thigh and cringed.
“Aye, aye, Captain.”
As soon as Loki stormed away, you stood up, brushing whatever wrinkles had formed in your jumpsuit. Amused, Bucky smiled at you, “You could at least thank us,” Bucky leaned forward and you tried not to scowl. 
“Thank you,” You whispered. 
“Good girl,” Bucky smirked. 
“Lang, get Y/N a chair,” Steve ordered another man in the room. He was quick to obey the command and, even though you were in a new place, you felt you’d been transported into an entirely new planet. 
“You don’t have to-”
“Sit,” Steve said as the chair was placed beside you, “You can leave when you give us an answer to the offer Peter mentioned yesterday.”
You had thought long and hard about Peter’s offer and decided last night that you wanted to reject it. It wasn’t until now that you realized your decision was a mistake. There was no telling when you’d be getting out of this place, Peter had been here for years, and it seemed you were already a target. 
You’d even heard a rumor that the guards placed bets on how long you’d survive in here. 
“Yes …” You nodded your head, “That’s my answer.”
Steve's lips pulled into a small grin as he eyed his friend across the table, “Good choice, doll.”
+
A week later and you were still alive and relatively untouched. Bucky was quite handsy but Peter reminded you that it was just protocol. Everyone had to know that you were a part of their group and that, if you were harmed, they’d have to deal with Steve and his minions. 
Like Peter said, there were quite a few sacrifices you had to make. Your new job in the kitchen allowed you to provide the group with all the food they wanted and when you weren’t working, you were running errands for Steve. You got an idea of all the inmate leaders and how they functioned as a society. 
Steve seemed to be at the very top and you realized the possible consequences of crossing someone like him. Still, you felt more pampered than like you were a part of some elaborate prison gang. Most of your wishes were theirs to grant. 
They let you watch whatever you wanted in the TV room. Bucky always called you pet names that you were starting to grow fond of. Steve had some pull with the guards so Rumlow was never around to bother you anymore. Peter even found you a set of paints to occupy your time in your cell. As long as you followed them around like their cute little puppy, they were quite nice to you. 
“C’mon, run a lap with me. You gotta build your strength,” Peter asked you, his face sweaty and shining under the baking sun. He was shirtless, the shirtsleeves of his uniform wrapped around his waist, and his magnificent physique was on display just like Steve and Bucky’s. During rec time in the courtyard, you’d become accustomed to standing by the fence and watching them lift weights. 
“I’m good, thanks,” You smiled awkwardly, “I get tired just from watching you guys.”
“Peter’s right,” Steve let out a breath as he dropped his hundred-pound dumbbell.
“I just …” Your voice trailed off as Steve eyed you with his strong gaze. You knew that what he said goes but you were growing nervous, “I don’t want to get sweaty.”
“You’re serious?” Bucky chimed in, a curious look on his face. 
“Is that like a girl thing I don’t know about?” Peter flashed you an amused look and your cheeks began to heat with embarrassment. 
“Y/N?” Steve could see that you were hiding something.
You crossed your arms, sighing, “I just don’t want to have to shower, okay?”
“You haven’t showered since you’ve been here?” Peter asked incredulously. 
“I have!” You quickly defended yourself, “I mean, I’ve just been using the sink in my cell.”
“I see what this is about,” Bucky had a knowing look on his face, “Dollface is scared of the communal showers.”
Peter’s mouth formed the shape of an “o” as he realized what was going on. You still felt so embarrassed. It was yet another thing that made you seem totally defenseless. 
“Is that true?” Steve asked and you were beginning to feel overwhelmed by their concerned gazes, “Why didn’t you tell us? Next time, one of us will keep watch for you. No one’s gonna bother you.”
Maybe it was the isolation or the fact that your life would never be the same again. Maybe it was the fact that you’d never see your family again or that you cried yourself to sleep every night. That might be the reason you felt that they genuinely cared for you and why you wanted to fully embrace the comfort that they were providing. 
Maybe that was why you wanted to belong to them. 
+
For the first time, you were reminded of your old life. You weren’t sure how long you’d lost yourself under the water, letting time get away from you, as the warm water cascaded along your skin. The showers had a sorry excuse for water pressure and, despite the creepiness of the beige tiles and flickering light above, when you closed your eyes you were in paradise. 
“All clean, beautiful?” Bucky’s voice brought you out of your trance. Suddenly you were back in the square room with showerheads lining each wall. You wiped the water from your eyes before turning off the water. 
“Y-Yes, I’m almost done!” You shouted back, grabbing your towel from off the hook. You pressed it to your face, drying your skin. You were quite grateful that they’d taken the extra steps to make you feel protected, “Bucky-”
As you turned around, that feeling of gratitude quickly turned to something resembling fear. He was supposed to wait for you outside the bathroom and yet, there he was, only three feet away from you. 
“What are you-”
He looked over you hungrily and you pressed your towel closer to your body, “You have no idea how long it's been since I’ve been with a beautiful woman like you … Steve too. And Peter, he’s just learning the ropes.”
You took a step back, towards the wall, and as you did you caught a glimpse behind Bucky’s towering figure. Both Steve and Peter were here, stalking closer. 
“You said you’d protect me…” Your voice cracked, your hands beginning to shake. 
“We will,” Steve spoke, determined, “No one else but us will touch you.”
“Nothing in here is without a cost, Y/N,” Peter seemed a bit solemn like his current life was not what he wanted it to be but he was just as hungry, if not more, as Bucky. 
Bucky grabbed you then, his eyes impatient, and you wrestled for your towel for only a moment before he easily snatched it away from you. A helpless squeal left your mouth as he grabbed you by the arm with one hand and placed his other hand between your legs. He grabbed your thigh tightly and as his hand moved further up, you found yourself paralyzed. 
“Good girl. You’re going to take all of us,” Bucky spoke quietly, shushing you, his grip growing tighter and tighter. Before you knew it, all three of them were surrounding you, their curious hands wandering over your wet skin. Grabbing your breast, your thighs, turning your face to bite at your neck. 
“Get on your knees,” Steve grunted against your ear, growing impatient like his friend. 
When you didn’t move, Peter was the one to push you down onto the cold floor. You hiccuped, trying not to hyperventilate as they overwhelmed you from each side. As they all started to pull down their clothes, you made one final attempt at trying to crawl away. 
Steve grabbed you by your throat, making your efforts futile, pushing your face towards his crotch. You felt it, hard and throbbing against your cheek, “Open up, don’t make this hard, doll,” Through the corner of your eye, you saw Bucky stroking his own length, waiting patiently for his turn. 
Steve grabbed you by your hair next, pressing your closed lips against his tip. He forced himself in your mouth, “There you go,” Steve grunted, pushing himself deeper, “Move that tongue around.”
Steve Rogers could make your life a living hell in the Cage. Was this really the price you had to pay in order to survive here? You couldn’t imagine it being any worse than this but Steve could make that possible. That’s why you started to swirl your tongue like he said, deciding that their orgasms would end your pain. 
Bucky was much rougher than Steve, pinching your nose closed and enjoying watching your eyes widen and water. He practically touched the back of your throat and still commanded you to stroke Peter and Steve’s cocks with your hands while you took him in your mouth. Somehow, you managed. 
Peter was much more gentle and you were grateful for that. His hands rested softly on the back of your head, guiding your mouth slowly up and down his length, “God, this is awesome,” He cursed, his head tilting back as he enjoyed the stimulation. When he finally finished, his warmth filled your mouth and before you could spit or catch your breath, Bucky grabbed you again. 
He came so far down your throat that you were forced to swallow it but, unlike him, Steve took his time, “This little mouth. Is ours. Every single hole. Is ours. No one else, do you understand?” With each sentence, he thrust hard until he filled your mouth. You leaned over, coughing as you felt the stinging of your sore throat. 
You were about to collapse onto the dirty cold floor when gentle arms lifted you up into a broad chest. You found yourself not fighting, only pressing your face into Bucky’s chest as you began to sob. 
Steve didn’t have to say anything more. You understand your new position and there wasn’t anyone else there to save you from that fate. 
That night you learned there was a change to your cell assignment. You’d sleep in Steve’s arms, a little bird that was safe and protected in it’s cage. 
+
hope you enjoyed!! i’m posting this instead of sleeping because I have class in this morning :) 
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adaodinson · 3 years
Text
I didn´t call you babe, I was asking what it meant
It’s been a while since I posted a story, I apologize, I´ve been like crazy cause I’m starting college this year and well, I haven´t had time.
I finally watched Bill and Ted´s trilogy and of course I now adore them and have the biggest crush on Ted. I thought of this while rewatching the first movie today so here it is. In this story Lizzie and Joanna are saved by Rufus like in the movie, but they don´t stay with Bill an Ted (they can still be a part of the band though).
Summary: When the guys go to London in the XV century, they encounter someone else who needs a hand.
Relationship: Ted x femreader, Bill x platonic!femreader
Warnings: none.
Oh you did it this time, you certainly did it. There was no way you would get away from this execution. You were being dragged by the guards, not that you would try to fight them at this point, you knew it was hopeless, but you weren´t going to make it easy for them either.
The wooden door opened with a loud creak as the light from the outside blinded you. You could feel the change in the floor, from cold stone to dirt. You weren´t precisely scared, you were hoping you would get out of this just like the past times but now they took you by surprise, and unlike the others, you didn´t have an escape plan now.
You felt dozens of eyes on you, looking in disgust. Everyone here knew you at this point: the young girl with the weird accent that had no family and only knew how to steal. It was partially true, but of course there was more to you. You didn´t bother trying to change their minds about you anymore, though.
-Aha! I encounter you again- yelled the king from his seat. You rolled your eyes at him and at the look of victory in his eyes. You really didn´t want to give him the satisfaction of killing you, and you didn´t want to die either.
As the guards settled you in place, you realized they were dragging two weird looking guys and tying them up next to you. They had clothes you had never seen before, and they looked funnily scared. The blonde one had a kind aura, he seemed sweet, and the dark haired one, as foolish as he looked, you had to admit was rather handsome. Well, you were clearly lying to yourself, he was beautiful.
-First time here, boys?- You asked with a giggle, still refusing to believe you were going to die.
-You’ve been in this situation before? Are you a ghost?- they asked at the same time.
-I’ve indeed been in this situation before, but I can guarantee I´m not a ghost- you stated.
-Well, how did you get out? We could use some help ya know, babe- The dark haired said with a cute and confused look in his eyes. You flinched at the nickname, you certainly hadn´t heard that before and didn´t know what to think about it.
-Babe?- you asked.
-Yeah?- The same guy asked, waiting for you to say something else. His expression suddenly changed as if he had realized something- Wait, did you just call ME babe?- You swore he was blushing.
-No, I was asking you what it meant…ARGH- you were interrupted by the burning sensation of rope around your neck. They were putting you all in position for the execution.
Behind you, you heard a man screaming nonsense “They fell from the sky!!” “This devilish red box!!”. He was being carried by a cart and was hugging the weirdest thing you had ever seen.
-This is it. Lord, I can´t believe this- You were getting ready to face your destiny when you noticed there where only two executioners. Before you could even realize what was happening, the executioners cut the ropes that were holding you.
-Billy! Socrates!- The guys yelled while hugging the men. You then felt a hand on your shoulder and quickly turned, ready to punch who you thought was a guard.
-DON´T- The cute boy said while covering his face.
-Come on, babe! Come with us, we can get you out of here- You didn’t even stop to think about it, you just jumped to the cart and screamed your way through the town. You were speeding up more and more, and you were not feeling ready to die again, so as you passed a bridge, you managed to grab a rope that was tight to a wooden structure and pulled so it would block your persecutor´s way.
-WOW That was excellent! - both boys said at the same time and then did a strange movement with their hands in the air while shacking their heads happily. They were definitely the weirdest people you had ever met, but you liked that.
As you reached the woods, the guys hurried all of you to get into the red rectangle. You saw the blonde guy going through a book and pressing some metallic thingies.
-Oh I´m Ted by the way, and that is Bill, Socrates and Billy- Ted said while pointing at each of them. You blushed at his attention.
-I´m Y/N- you said with a worried smile since the guards were getting closer.
-Y/N- Ted repeated proudly- Beautiful name for a beautiful lady- That made you blush even more, especially since you were pretty close to him because of the small space inside the red rectangle.
Suddenly all your surrounding changed and you could only see what seemed like infinite. You closed your eyes while screaming and hang on to the shirt of whoever was next to you. Spoiler alert, it was Ted. He didn’t even scream through the time tunnels since he was too busy looking at you.
The red thing finally stopped and Bill asked you to stay inside. You didn´t see much of what happened out there, you just heard Bill and Ted say: “Be excellent to each other, and party on, dudes!”. You didn´t know what that meant, but they said it with such conviction you assumed they were wise words.
After the guys returned, you made more travels to who knows where and then finally arrived to what Bill and Ted called home. You saw Ted´s house and your head was now hurting with questions, but you understood Ted and Bill needed your help so you would ask everything after that.
They took you to a place called The Mall. It was huge and filled with people. You were looked at weirdly, but to you, the weird ones were all of them. Bill explained what The Mall was and Ted never left your side, he was at the end of the line, guarding all your new friends, but always made sure you were feeling safe.
They gave you a Slursy? Slusfy? Oh whatever, it was the most delicious thing you had ever tried, and Ted smiled so widely just by seeing how happy you were with it. He mentioned they would have to go get another historical figure that they had brought before, and you didn´t want to be without them so you asked if you could go with them. They agreed happily.
You then met Deacon, Ted´s little brother, and before you knew you were at a place called a water park? You didn´t understand so Ted took you to take a look and explain while Bill went looking for Napoleon. You got lost in Ted´s explanation by looking into his eyes, and he realized you weren´t paying attention. He thought you were making fun of him in your head or that you thought he was an idiot. But what you blurted out (according to you, you said it in your head, apparently you didn´t) made him see that wasn´t at all what you were thinking.
-How can you be so cute and pretty?- The question was out before you could even think. You turned a bright red and looked at the floor, but Ted softly grabbed your chin and made you look at him.
-You really think that, Y/N?- His eyes were filled with so much joy, hope and a beautiful spark that you couldn’t bring yourself to lie to him.
-Well, yes, of course I do. I mean, you literally saved me and…- You weren´t allowed to finish, a pair of soft lips in yours interrupted you midsentence, but of course you didn´t care. You tasted and enjoyed every bit of it, just like Ted did.
-Okay guys, I found him… WOAH- Bill was carrying a man covered in a towel and was smirking at you both.
-DUDE- Ted said looking happier than you had ever seen him (and that was a lot to say).
-Awesome!- They both said and did what you now knew was an air guitar movement.
You headed back to the Mall and soon realized your historical friends had been taken to prison by Ted’s father. You didn’t really understand what was going on, everything was new for you and Bill had to drag you as you stood astonished looking at a bicycle (not to mention how many questions you asked about the car). The guys decided it would be best if you stayed with Missy and Napoleon in the car, Ted specified he didn’t want you to get hurt.
Missy asked you tons of questions and answered yours. She was really nice, and even though Napoleon was weird, he was really funny (because he didn’t understand anything).
Finally Bill and Ted returned with the others and you headed back to the Mall.
You weren’t a historical figure, so you got to watch the guy’s complete presentation from behind the stage and to clap like crazy when they finished. Ted had gotten you some clothes when you returned to the Mall, and you were the most comfortable you had ever been.
You decided to stay with them, but you did accompany the guys to leave the historical figures at their times, they ended up being your friends after all.
When you returned, Ted wanted to offer you to stay in his house, but he knew his dad wouldn´t allow it, so you stayed with Bill instead. You saw Ted all the time though, and when they discovered that you could sing they immediately asked you to join their band and be the lead singer. You couldn´t say no to Ted´s beautiful face, so you agreed, and of course their love for music was contagious and you were loving every new song they showed you. Rufus then confirmed you were a part of the band in the future, and so, that´s how your life in a different time began, and you couldn´t love it more.
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It’s Always Oikawa
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summary: you never believed in true love because during your long, 19 years of life, you’ve only ever experienced it through books and movies. But at a Valentine’s Day party in your second year of college, you come across a familiar face who just so happens to be single..and you’ve had the hots for him before. will you finally find love amongst the Cupid chaos?
genre: college au, fluff, suggestive
warnings: none
pairing: iwaizumi x f!reader
a/n: this is the last part! thank you to everyone who had read this series and has been patient with my updates :/ ‘till next time! (I’m still posting a final closing chapter though ;) )
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taglist closed!
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The morning gave Iwaizumi a harsh reminder of his commitment. He had to tell Y/N how he felt and there was no other way to fix whatever had been broken.
For now, though, he changed into gym clothes and packed a sling bag, then headed to the gate he and Y/N had used when she gave him a tour of the college. The time since then had passed quicker than Iwaizumi thought and more things he would care to admit had gotten complicated.
Ever since he had a mini reunion with the people from his high school experience, he had the best times of his life. But it was scary to think how close he had gotten with Y/N, so easily too. The man was whipped before he knew it and messed up the relationship. He didn’t even know what he did, if he did something. The walk to the gate ruffled his hair and the smell of mowed grass reached his nose, and he saw a figure sitting on a bench near the gate.
He walked closer and tilted his head, slightly recognizing the features of the person until he realized it was Y/N, who seemed to be in distress.
“Y/N?” He spoke in confusion.
You lifted your head in shock and stood up.
“Hi.”
“What are you doing here?”
“W-waiting for you.” That enough made Iwaizumi’s heart clench. “I need to talk to you, Hajime, I made a mistake. I-”
Scared of the sudden confrontation, Iwaizumi cut you off. “Wait, before you say anything. Oikawa talked to me last night and it made me realize…something.”
“What was it?”
He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I did, but the last thing I wanted was for you to break ties between us. I thought this was going well, you know. I was scared I was moving too fast but you always seemed like you were fine with it, and it made me remember the camp in high school. I would’ve… I should’ve said something back then but I knew it was hopeless. But now, it doesn’t seem like it. So I have to tell you, I really like you.”
He rambled and your eyes widened progressively.
“You didn’t do anything wrong. It was a stupid thing with a text and I misunderstood, and the whole thing was just stupid. I was stupid. I should’ve talked to you but I got in my own head and avoided you. It’s all my fault, I swear it’s wasn’t you. I like you too. A lot.”
He grasped your hands and smiled. “Mind telling me what you were saying about a text?”
You laughed. “I think the others made a group chat about us and I misread a text Oikawa sent, or something like that. I’ve been overthinking this whole situation over a typo.”
“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“I know right! Why didn’t you ask me about it at the party?”
“Oikawa dragged me away and gave me a whole pep talk about my feelings.”
“It’s always Oikawa, isn’t it?”
“Damn right.”
That Evening
The door opened to show Iwaizumi and Y/N hand in hand, holding plastic bags filled with Thai food.
“Look who decided to show up! Wait, Y/N? Did you two make up?”
Oikawa’s wide eyed were enough to make you laugh.
“Before you freak out, ‘Kawa, we did. No thanks to you.”
He gasped and claimed, “I have been the one person trying to get you two together and you’re not giving me any credit?!”
You sat down on the couch and waved to Bokuto and Akaashi, who were sharing a blanket, and then explained the text typo situation, to which Oikawa scratched his neck sheepishly and turned to the food instead.
The night turned into one of fun and watching Studio Ghibli movies. Iwaizumi clasped your hand underneath the comforter and pulled you quietly to go to the kitchen counter. The others’ eyes were still glued to the TV screen and Iwaizumi started to move his head closer to yours.
“Hajime! What are you doing!” You whisper-shouted.
He giggled and pressed his lips to yours, mumbling about how he couldn’t go another minute without your kisses. You swayed gently as heat rushed to your cheeks and butterflies erupted in your stomach.
It felt good. So good that you didn’t realize Oikawa had turned his head around and was now glaring at you.
“Iwa-chan! Y/N-chan! Get a room!”
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taglist: @xybi @kwiwin @perqabeth @bakugouswh0r3 @silver-liner @mzstics @magpiemissy @lilith412426 @keikotaro @hajiiwaizumi @bangtanhits @shookykookie30 @sabrinakishi @love-nishinoya-yu @hallothankmas @pothodicted @urfavecendol @koutsukki @trashy-simp @kousbaby @galacticskys @hello-c-horse @putmeinyourdeathnote @rintarovibes
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for the one who does not wear his heart on his sleeves (feat. oikawa tooru's onee-san)
❝ oikawa tooru does not wear his heart on his sleeves. oikawa toura, his older sister, knows this well. ❞
characters. oikawa toura, tooru’s onee-san; oikawa t. x fem!reader
genre. drama, comedy, slight romance
word count. 4.8k words
warnings. themes of teenage pregnancy
a/n. i wanted to delve a bit into tooru's character and thought, "who else would let us get to know him better than his older sister?" reblogs are appreciated. and as always, i’d be happy to hear your thoughts.
HAIKYUU MASTERLIST • AO3
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及川 Oikawa reaching the river
Oikawa Tooru was not one to wear his heart on his sleeves. This didn’t stop girls from clinging on to them, however.
Oikawa Toura contemplated on this every time her younger brother got himself a girlfriend.
She figured that his handsome looks, good grades, athletic talent, and irresistible charm make up for it. (Not that she would ever admit it to her younger brother. Even then, Tooru wouldn’t be able to get all the credit. The Oikawa genes were impeccably attractive, so they all possessed the same assets anyway.)
The girls started to flock him when he was really young. Tooru was a cute and energetic kid. He was always running around with a volleyball that he loved to toss and a unique boyish charm that made him beguiling.
It was no wonder that his first grade classmate in elementary always lent Tooru her princess stickers-filled pencils whenever he “forgot” to bring his own, that Tooru weighed surprisingly heavier one time in elementary school because he always had extra to eat during meal times (courtesy of his third grade seatmate), that Tooru went home blushing one time during pre-school because a cute girl kissed him on the cheek. Toura, herself, was amused by his early puppy-love kind of escapades.
But as leaves changed color and as the siblings experienced more that life had to offer, Oikawa Toura found herself concerned about her brother. Tooru, as a kid, was a fluffy cinnamon roll that everyone wanted to devour. As a teenager, he was something else. He was growing well into the magnetic Oikawa looks, with the towering height, the playful grins, the captivating russet eyes. Partner it with his fastidious methods of fixing up, he was practically teenage royalty.
But as all teenagers were, it was easy for all the attention to get into his head. So Toura took it upon herself to keep him on his toes and to give him a few slaps back to reality.
-
“Ouch!” Tooru recoiled from his sister’s hand. “What was that for?”
“Stop acting like a superstar!” Toura hissed, her eyes molding into the famous Oikawa glare that she inherited from her mother. She sneaked a glance toward the flock of girls they passed by a second earlier. “You’re not only embarrassing me, you’re also embarrassing yourself!”
Tooru raised his hands in defense. “I was just waving! Is it so bad to be polite?”
“Being courteous and narcissistic are two different things!”
“Me? Narcissistic?” Tooru put a palm to his heart.
“Yeah! I’ve heard a few things about you lately!” Toura accused.
“Ya!” Tooru fished for his phone. “When did Iwa-chan become so talkative?”
Toura swiped his phone away in a flash. “You think Iwa’s the only one who notices your obnoxiousness? A lot of different people come to me just to put you in your place! Do them a favor and turn it down a bit, huh?”
Tooru huffed in disbelief. “You? Just who would do that? Everyone’s scared of you!”
Murder. That was what Toura was going to do. “What did you just say?”
-
Toura most often gave her brother tough love. It really couldn’t be avoided with a sibling as exasperating as Tooru. It was what his thick head needed. At first, the elder sister was frustrated whenever her brother would brush her off, would be so defensive, would grumble blatantly to the side, and sometimes would even run away at the very sight of his “nagging” sister.
Later on, these younger brother tendencies would put a knowing smile on Toura’s face. Toura thought that she would be forever pulling Tooru by the ear, yapping at him to “be nice” to his juniors or to “treat that girl well.” Apparently, forever was a bit too much. She realized this once during a phone call with her brother’s best friend.
-
“Iwa!” Toura called into her phone, as she exited her the room of her son, who was finishing his homework.
“Hai, onee-san!” the person on the other line coughed.
“How are you?” she chirped, entering the kitchen. “I heard you’re one of the main players for the team this year! Congratulations!”
Talking to Tooru’s friends was one of the joys of her life. When they first met her, she might have gone overboard with the fierce act and left them terrified. Through the years, they slowly got over it but she was still her mother’s daughter who inherited her temper. Tooru’s friends became witnesses to her losing it a couple of times so she couldn’t really blame them for being careful around her. Toura used their wariness to have fun once in a while.
“Ah, thank you very much,” Iwaizumi answered, brief and respectful.
Toura grinned, whipping out some strawberries from the fridge. “Iwa! You’re so polite, unlike some people I know!”
Iwaizumi hurried to reply. “Don’t worry, onee-san, Oikawa’s on his way home.”
Such loyal friends, Tooru. “Hmm? I didn’t ask for him.”
“But you were going to… right?” Iwaizumi’s hesitation was too adorable.
“Yes, sorry to bother you all the time, Iwa.” Toura tried to keep her tone sweet. “Let me just ask, is there a particular reason as to why this onee-san has to make excuses for her little brother’s lateness?”
If he was bullying the first years again…
“He’s helping the first years with their serves,” Iwaizumi said. “Sometimes with their spikes too.”
Huh. “Really?”
“Hai.”
“And how’s that been going so far?” Toura asked.
“Hmm… I can’t say really…” Iwaizumi said. “A few days of practice won’t really show much results but somehow the first years don’t seem too lost. Though sometimes they do seem irked by Oikawa’s stupid perso—”
The other line went silent.
Toura laughed. How cute.
“It’s okay, Iwa! I have firsthand experience with that stupid personality of his. Totally understandable.”
She could hear his breath of relief.
“Okaa-san!” Takeru’s voice echoed from the hall.
“I have to go, Iwa. I’ll cover for him but tell him he has to wash the dishes for two weeks.”
Toura hung up, shaking her head at the thought of her (not so) agitating brother.
-
Though Tooru put up a prickly front, deep down inside, Toura knew her brother always listened to the important things she said. With this, Toura was relieved. At the same time, she was concerned. Rivers looked shallow from those who viewed it from afar. A closer look would let people’s eyes see the depth of its waters. What Toura worried about was that people only saw her brother for the things that were skin deep. Worse, that they only loved him for these things.
Tooru was more than those. If only people looked a little closer and deeper.
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冬麗 Toura winter, beautiful
Oikawa Tooru was not one to wear his heart on his sleeves. Oikawa Toura felt she was partly to blame.
-
She was eighteen, just about to enter college. It was the spring of life. New beginnings. New opportunities. Adversities would come her way. That was inevitable. She expected them to come like light rainfall, showering her days with just enough raindrops to make every color vibrant and with just enough trouble for her to appreciate the good and to grow steadily as she went. She was an Oikawa, adept with the woes of the water. She would conquer it just like she did all the other times, with the cutting russet eyes of her father and the fiery disposition of her mother.
At least, she was supposed to.
Spring was the season of new life. She was prepared for all of the changes that were coming, all except for the birth of the new life growing inside of her. Toura was eighteen when she found out she was pregnant with Takeru. Tooru was nine.
The light drizzle she was anticipating was nothing compared to the storms that came.
The strongest downpour surged one night in the kitchen of the Oikawa household. Lights all around the house were dimmed. Windows were shut. Doors were locked. Tooru was tucked impatiently to bed earlier than usual.
All throughout the night until the wee hours of the morning, the usual sanctuary of home-cooked meals and family banter became a cold court of trial. Eyes were bloodshot: Toura’s from crying, her mother’s from exhaustion, her father’s from anger. Hands were shaking: Toura’s from hopelessness, her mother’s from pity, her father’s from disappointment.
Toura had never seen her parents the way they were that night. Her mother was normally the raging one, with all the scathing beration and the matching fiery gaze. That time, it was her father, her typically sarcastic laid back father, who was blazing with fury.
By the early morning, all backs were slumped. All voices were hoarse.
As Toura crawled her way back into her room, she heard the hurried shutting of a door.
Tooru was awake.
At that time, Toura didn’t have the energy to dwell on it. She just dragged herself to bed and hoped to forget, even just for a while.
-
As much as her parents tried to act ordinarily, Tooru was an intelligent kid. He heard the raised voices at midnight when they thought he was asleep. He heard his sister’s muffled cries as she crawled her way back into her room. He noticed her carefully hidden swollen eyes in the morning. He saw through everyone’s strained smiles the weeks that followed.
Keeping true to his family name, as the river followed the path the soil has carved for it, he followed the flow that his family had created. He never questioned the changes that happened within their home and their family. Yet, he never remained idle either.
-
The season was spring. However, it had never been more winter for Oikawa Toura. The sun was still high and shining down on the secluded playground near the Oikawa household; even so, Toura had never been so cold. She was donning her favorite sweater and held tightly toward her father’s coat (for comfort or for warmth, she was not sure) but it was to no avail.
Toura was seated on a park bench, with a child blooming inside her womb and the father sitting beside her.
The “father.”
Among the excellent genes of the Oikawas were some not-so-pleasant ones, such as sarcasm or hot tempers (this comes from the mother’s side though). Stupidity was not one of them. Oikawa Toura could take a hint. Hints, to be more accurate.
After dropping the bomb on her boyfriend, after having a long crying session with him, after listening to all his promises of “we’re going to figure this out,” after seeing him off as he shipped himself to Tokyo and she stayed in Miyagi, after weeks of pruned text messages, and after complete utter silence in the end, Oikawa Toura knew that he did not want to be a “father.”
Toura sighed. “Just get to the point.”
She did not even turn to know that he had whirled around to face her. That was how much she knew him. Loved him.
Hell.
“I—can’t.” The crack in his voice broke her. Or maybe it was the meaning of his words. Or maybe, she had been long broken, way back from the moment he first chose to leave.
Well, this time, I’m the one leaving.
“Okay,” Toura whispered. It was the most difficult thing to do, to pull herself up and walk away from him.
“Wait—”
Toura halted. She almost turned back and buried herself in his arms.
If not for the whirling volleyball, the sound of the collision, and the groan.
She did pivot her head a bit, just enough to see her boyf—ex-boyfriend crumpled on the floor, his hands clutching at some very painful goods.
Before she could do anything, her hand was tugged by a familiar grasp and towed away from the scene.
Right there, Oikawa Tooru, with one arm clutching a volleyball tucked and the other on her sister, was walking briskly, a resolute look on his face.
Toura did not exactly know the right response. She had always been a slave to her emotions. She knew, because she was going to become a mother soon, she had to let this go, but to hell with it, there was still time.
“Hey,” she found herself saying. “Nice kill.”
Tooru swiveled in surprise. Just as quickly, irritation morphed in his features. “I was aiming for his head actually.”
“Well then, actually aim for what you hit next time.”
After a long while, Oikawa Toura found herself grinning.
-
At eighteen, Oikawa Toura had to face the consequences of her actions. She had to endure their relatives’ disappointment and mocking. She had to put up with the whispers around their town. Sendai’s golden girl was ruined. The girls who used to want to befriend her disappeared. The guys who ogled at her never looked at her again.
Spring, summer, and autumn all felt like winter to Toura. How symbolic. She finally lived up to her name.
Oikawa Toura. River. Winter.
What exactly happened to the river during winter? It went cold. Sometimes, it even froze. That was how she survived it all. Oikawa Toura chose to harden herself to everyone’s frigidity, to life’s cold harsh truth.
Tooru was aware of it all. At nine years old, he learned that if he showed vulnerability, he wouldn’t leave the battlefield intact. Especially in their world. If he showed his heart to the wrong people, he was bound to get hurt.
So at nine, Oikawa Tooru buried his heart deep within himself and only allowed a few people in.
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徹 Tooru to go through, committing to one thing to the end
Oikawa Tooru was not one to wear his heart on his sleeves. His love was rare.
When it came to love, Tooru was one who used his head. He only gave his love to the people and the things that he knew would be worth it. This was why he revealed his heart only to a few chosen.
To his family: his nonchalant father, his fierce mother, his headstrong sister, his cute nephew.
To his close friends: his reliable Iwa-chan, his bright Makki, his good-natured Mattsun.
And of course, to volleyball.
However, even with all the preventive measures her younger brother had taken, Oikawa Toura knew that it could not protect him from heartbreak.
-
“I’m going to bed. Already ate.”
Toura watched as Tooru climbed the stairs with heavy feet, sagged shoulders, and defeated eyes.
She gave an inquiring look to their mother. “He got benched today. In their game with Shiratorizawa.”
“Oh,” Toura replied.
She heard her son’s light footsteps running towards the stairs. “Toowu! Toowu! Let’s pway!”
She caught Takeru before he managed to reach the second floor and shushed him. “Tooru-ojisan isn’t feeling well today, Takeru.”
Toura watched her son pout. She mussed his hair and said, “You can play with him tomorrow. Hopefully, he’ll be better by then.”
-
Toura was frantically scrolling through different contacts on her phone when Tooru came in and announced, “I’ll take Takeru to his volleyball lessons.”
His older sister stared at him, dumbfounded.
“On Monday, right?” Tooru said, rummaging through the fridge.
Toura was confused. “I thought your girlfriend was going to introduce you to her parents on Monday.”
“Nah,” Tooru answered, his fingers shifting back and forth from the banana milk to strawberry milk.
“What do you mean ‘nah?’ I thought you really liked this girl?” Toura said.
“Apparently, I liked volleyball more and she grew tired,” Tooru replied, finally getting his hands on the banana milk.
Toura scoffed. “Well, I never even liked her in the first place.”
“I know.” Tooru drilled his straw through his drink. “Don’t worry about Takeru, nee-san. I’ll take care of him.”
Tooru moved to leave the room. Toura called him back. “Oi. You okay?”
Her younger brother paused for half a second—half a second too long—before turning back. He waved his hand as if to disregard the entire thing. “Of course. Onee-san, I’m Oikawa Tooru.”
Toura rolled her eyes at her grinning brother. It was when Tooru left that his older sister felt more unsettled.
-
He was Oikawa Tooru. He tried to show everybody that he just brushed off his worries. He had inherited their father’s devil-may-care façade and his tendency to mask his problems by joking about them. But when he’s alone, Toura knew that Tooru took everything hard.
Toura wished she could spare her brother the pain because she knew how cruel life was. She knew she could not.
Oikawa Tooru was not one to wear his heart on his sleeves. Then you came along.
Out of all the girls Tooru had had, you were different. First of all, you weren’t even his girlfriend. You were just a friend. Someone who lashed out on him for punching a vending machine and later on, found your way into his inner circle.
Safe to say, Oikawa Toura was quite alarmed, skeptical, and just a little bit curious.
-
“So you mean to say that you really didn’t know who he was?” Toura asked you. The two of you were sitting beside the makeshift court on the backyard of the Oikawa household, watching Tooru and his friends play volleyball with Takeru.
You buried your head into your hands. “He told you?”
“Psh.” Matsukawa appeared in front of you. “Mr. I’m-Better-Than-Everyone-Here? Of course not!”
“I told her!” Hanamaki said, taking a swig of the tea you and Toura bought.
Toura held her palm up for a high five. Hanamaki eagerly returned it.
“Ya! My own friends! How could you?” Tooru barked, hurling a volleyball towards them.
Iwaizumi easily dodged it, choosing carefully among the pastries laid out. “How could we not?”
“Aww, was wittle Toowu’s pwide hurt?” Toura teased.
Tooru made a face and turned to his nephew.
“Look Takeru, this is not something you should copy from your mother!”
Toura retaliated, hugging her son close to her. “Takeru, unlike your oji-san, you should stay humble, okay?”
Takeru, used to her mother and uncle’s banter, wiggled free of his mother’s grasp, ignored the two of them, and dug into the pastries you bought.
Toura tried not to be hurt by her son’s actions and diverted her attention to you instead.
Resting her cheek against her palm, she asked, “How did the two of you actually, well, talk to each other then? I mean, YOU DIDN’T KNOW WHO HE WAS.” She added the emphasis just to irk her brother.
Effective. He was staring daggers at her.
Lifting your face from your hands, you answered, “Well, he was out punching vending machines by the gym—"
Toura wheeled towards Tooru’s direction. “You punched a vending machine?”
“I was having a bad day,” Tooru muttered, suddenly preoccupied with snacks.
Briefly, his gaze shifted to you. You looked back at him with sympathetic understanding.
Hmm…
-
Mornings were hectic in the Oikawa household. Everyone had somewhere they needed to be. Movement filled the house and a string of “ittekimassu” followed. On this particular Monday, the two siblings were the last to go.
As they were putting on their shoes, Toura was intrigued by the two bento boxes Tooru had packed.
“How hungry are you?” Toura remarked.
“The other one’s for the smart girl of the group,” Tooru said, standing up and fixing his hair in front of the mirror. “She’s too engrossed in her books that sometimes, she forgets to eat.”
Clicking her heels in place, Toura asked, “Just who is she to you, Tooru?”
Tooru’s hands froze. “What kind of question is that?”
Toura gave him a pointed look.
“She’s my best friend!”
“I thought Iwa was your best friend.”
“He is!” Tooru exclaimed. “This is different!”
“I’ll say!” Toura turned her back to him. “Ittekimasu!”
“Ya! Onee-san!”
-
Toura rushed into the halls of her former alma mater. Her steps quickened as she caught sight of the infirmary.
“How’s my brother?” Toura nearly shoved her face into the school nurse’s. “Will he still be able to play?”
This was Tooru’s second knee injury. It would excruciatingly break his heart if his volleyball dreams ended here.
“I can’t say,” the nurse said, breaking the news softly. “He needs to see a doctor first.”
Toura’s breath hitched. “Where is he?”
“In the other room.” The nurse pointed to the door of the adjoining room.
Toura nodded. She turned the knob slowly and quietly, just in case Tooru was asleep.
He wasn’t. Toura heard his muffled sobs before she saw your figure tightly holding on to her younger brother. His shoulders were shaking. It seemed like you were the only thing keeping him together.
“This is the one thing I’m good at!” Tooru cried. “Hard work! And even in this, I failed!”
“Shhh,” you say. “It’s not a failure. It’s a setback.”
“Yeah, right.” He pulled back from your embrace. “What if… What if this is the end for me? What if all those years of proving I’m worth something, of chasing after Ushiwaka, of outrunning Kageyama… What if it all just ends here?”
Toura remained before the door. She waited to hear what you would say. Personally, she didn’t know how to respond. How does one answer to that?
“Then let it end here,” you said. Toura gasped.
Tooru’s eyes bulged.
“Chasing Ushiwaka, beating Kageyama… Let that all end here. Why did you choose to play volleyball?”
Something dawned in Tooru. “I… love to play volleyball… Always have…”
“That’s right. You love volleyball. It sharpens your senses. It makes you feel alive. I’ve seen it. This is why you play volleyball.” Your voice was as unwavering as you gaze.
You softened. “It’s not going to end here, Tooru. No matter what happens, even if it takes millions of therapy sessions, I know and you know that you’re not going to let it end here.”
Toura carefully closed the door, not wanting to intrude in their intimate discussion. Before she did, she saw the change in her younger brother’s previously defeated expression. It was now hopeful.
She did not know what would happen next. Perhaps, hope was what he needed most. Toura felt most grateful for your presence in that moment.
-
The crowd screamed as one of Tooru’s serves reached Shiratorizawa’s side of the court unreceived. First set won by Aoba Jousai!
Toura joined them with her own set of cheers. “That’s my baby brother right there!”
Takeru pretended as if he wasn’t related to her. You erupted in laughter beside her.
Toura faced you, flashing you a broad smile.
“I think he heard you!” you shout, pointing to the scowl on Tooru’s face, evident even from the stands.
Toura stuck her tongue out at her brother. It was obvious where he got that from.
To add fuel to the fire, Toura gestured to his jersey and tilted her head towards you, as if to say, “So you gave her your jersey, huh?”
Tooru reddened and avoided his gaze, running uncharacteristically towards his teammates.
Toura smirked. Best friend my ass.
“I told him his hard work would pay off,” she heard you whisper. “He sells himself so short sometimes.”
Toura watched as you mumble things to yourself, touched by your affection towards her brother.
-
Out of all the girls that Tooru had had, you saw him for who he was, not for who he was trying to let everyone see. You weren’t starry-eyed for him. You didn’t let him off the hook from all of his pettiness and faults. Somehow, you inspired him to rise above his inferiorities and become better. Remarkably, you were able to let him break down all the barriers that he put up.
It was safe to say that out of all the girls that Tooru had had, you were the one his older sister liked best.
Oikawa Tooru was not one to wear his heart on his sleeves. Because he knew that love was pain.
“Tadaima,” Tooru called softly.
It was the night before his flight to Argentina. A few minutes ago, the Oikawa household was a boisterous place, filled with Oikawa relatives and Tooru’s teammates and friends. The clamor earlier was the opposite of the silence that echoed as Tooru slipped in.
“I’m here,” Toura called from the backyard.
“What are you doing here?” Tooru asked, taking a seat beside his onee-san.
Toura puckered her lips. “I was waiting for my favorite baby brother.”
“I’m your only brother,” Tooru pointed out. “And will you please stop it with the ‘baby?’ I’m an adult now! I’m even going to Argentina tomorrow.”
“I know.” Toura sighed. “Can’t you be my baby brother a bit longer? It feels like you’re running further and further away.”
Tooru was torn between repulsion and affection. “Who are you and what have you done to my monster onee-san?”
That earned him a smack.
“Just tell me you’re going to miss me,” Tooru said, rubbing the spot that his onee-san hit.
“Tch.” Toura rolled her eyes and diverted her gaze toward the makeshift court the two of them had built back when they were younger. How time flew. Now, he was off to play in bigger courts.
“So…” Toura started.
“So?” Tooru asked.
“I’m guessing, you’re still friends?”
“Hmm?”
“With the girl you walked home earlier, your best friend, the love of your life.” Toura raised her hands in exaggeration.
Tooru had a solemn look on his face. “I’m eighteen, onee-san. I don’t even know what love is.”
Right then and there, she caught a glimpse of the nine year-old fear that had been plaguing his heart. Toura always thought that people can only inherit things from their parents. Apparently, they can inherit things from their siblings too. Just like hand-me-down clothes worn out through time, Tooru had witnessed his elder sister’s experiences and acquired her pain.
Because of this, she knew he was mistaken. He knew too much about love. That love wasn’t just stolen kisses, first dates, holding hands, and smiles. It was pain too. It was the fear of not being enough, of being left behind.
It was true that love was anguish. But after nine years, Toura was able open her eyes to different aspects of love. She found it in her son’s laughter greeting her after a tiresome day. In her father’s jokes during tense moments. In her mother’s complaints about anything and everything. In her brother’s steadfastness especially when she needed it.
She saw it in the way Tooru looked at you.
“I doubt that,” Toura said.
“I doubt a lot of things,” Tooru replied.
“But never anything with her,” his elder sister said softly, looking at him in her periphery.
Tooru shook his head.
“You love her,” she said.
Tooru whispered, defeated. “I do.”
-
The next day brought a sense of déjà vu to Toura. She felt like she’s lived the scene before. A boy was leaving, off to chase his dreams. A girl was being left behind, to make do of what she had.
She had to remind herself that this was different. It was her brother, always keeping true to his name. He would go through everything life had to offer and he would commit to the things that he loved until the end. He was kind in his core, loyal to the ones he loved. He was not the scumbag who couldn’t make up his mind nine years ago.
It was you, the wisest and most understanding person Toura has ever met. You thought of everything carefully and thought of everyone deeply. You were not the naïve girl who acted impulsively and just hoped for the best.
“Just try and forget me, smart girl. I’ll come for you when you least expect it,” Toura heard her brother say.
Toura always felt the need to guard her brother from the world, especially after all the brutality that she has experienced. No matter how hard she tried, this was something she could never accomplish.
When it was time for Tooru to enter his gate, Tooru looked back, just once, just at you. You returned his gaze and offered an exaggerated smile. Tooru laughed.
This was the last image of himself that he left in the minds of those he loved before he left. You made that happen. Toura wished that you were there to make him laugh all the time, even when it was difficult for him.
So before the world shifted again, while you were still within Toura’s reach, she made a silent plea, an older sister’s prayer for her little brother—
“Oikawa Tooru was not one to wear his heart on his sleeves. But he had given you his heart. Please, keep it safe.”
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—this is somehow related to my other oikawa fic HERE
HAIKYUU MASTERLIST • AO3 LINK
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artnigth · 3 years
Text
Migraines Part 2
i made it!! Part 3 tomorrow BABY!! (probably) 
MIGRAINES PART 2: Raz was walking all the way back to the Questionable Area, more specifically his family’s camp in the campgrounds. It had been a long day, he agreed to cover Gisu’s afternoon shift since she apparently had an “appointment” or something. Norma and Lizzie kept pestering him to see if Gisu actually had a date of sorts, but he knew as much as they did on that topic so that fun little conversation went nowhere. He was finally able to go home and take a nap, he was ten after all (and very tired). “RAZPUTIN!” A scream coming from above breaking his line of thought. Raising his gaze, Raz saw just as Ford Cruller flew to the spot in front of him. The senior Psyconaut might have been very old, but after Raz had fixed his mind it seemed that the senior was back in his prime. “Your brother needs help.”- the tone of Cruller's voice was concerned but not surprised, neither was Raz. “What are you talking about?” “Your brother is lost in the forest and- “QUEEPIE GOT LOST IN THE FORGETFUL FOREST?!” “Your other brother Razputin. Dion, was it? He got lost in the forest and is having a Psychic overload.”- Ford’s tone was calm but a little tired. “Dion? Having a Psychic overload? No offense agent Cruller but Dion isn’t a Psychic. But I do believe he could have gotten lost in the forgetful forest. Let’s go tell my family to go and search for him.” Both of the Psychonauts ran all the way to the Aquato camp, encountering Agustus at the entrance. “Dad! Dion got lost on the Forgetful Forest, we need to go look for him!”- Raz was tired, his tone was halfhearted and kind of over the whole situation. Agustus’ eyes were wide, he stepped back a little at the sight of Ford Cruller. Ford stayed back for Agustus’ sake, he was clearly not over what had happened and Ford couldn’t blame him at all. “How did Dion get lost in the woods?”- Agustus decided to ignore Ford’s presence focusing on his middle son and the dilemma that had been put into focus. “So that’s where that boy is… His friend came here a couple of hours ago and both her, Frazie and your mother have been looking for him since.”- Agustus sounded tense, but neither of the Psychonauts minded. “Friend? Dion has friends?”- Raz was a little surprised but not too much. “Yeah, that was Frazie’s reaction as well. Let me call them, I’m pretty sure they’re gonna be happy to finally find out where he is.” . “HE WHAT?!”- Donatella did NOT sound happy about finding out where her oldest son had been all this time, scaring her children and husband even if just a little. Frazie, Donatella, Raz, Agustus, and Ford were now standing at the entrance of the Forgetful Forest, with Dion’s “friend” not being there yet. “UNBELIEVABLE. I THOUGHT WE HAD TAUGHT THAT BOY BETTER THAN TO GO INTO THE WOODS ALONE! IF YOU FOUND HIM WHY DIDN’T YOU DRAG HIM BACK, FORD?!”- Donatella kept rambling for a while her temper getting worse with each word. “That’s what I’m trying to explain, Dion seems to be having some sort of Psychic overload. His abilities being so overwhelming to his mind that he can’t control what he does. I had similar experiences when I was a young Psychic, everything was to much to deal with.”- Ford was still standing at a distance from the family, his voice calm but still concerned. “FRAZIE!! DID YOU FIND HIM?!”- a voice was heard from high into the sky. A figure suddenly falling from the sky on a skateboard and landing between Ford and the Aquatos. It was Gisu on top of her skateboard, who stepped off to be at the same level as everyone else. “Gisu?! Aren’t you supposed to be at an appointment??”- Razputin sounded ofended and blindsided. “Appoinment? I never said that.”- Gisu was clearly confused on that topic. “Adam said you had an appointment and that he needed someone to cover your shift, were you here all the time?” “Yeah… I just told Adam I was leaving early, I never said anything about an appointment.” “But… But… You know what, nevermind.”- Raz sounded defeated, Norma and Lizzie were right, and he hated to admit it. And a possible date with his brother out of all people, ugh. “So… did you found Dion, it’s been hours…” “Agent Ford did, Dion’s apparently having a psychic overload in the forest. So we are going to start a search party into the forest.”- Frazie’s tone was her typical sarcastic annoyance but concern was still heard as a shadow in her voice. “Ok, I’ll go high to try and spot him from above.”- Gisu sounded a little desperate to find Dion clearly concerned. But she was still her determined and confident self. She stepped on her skateboard and suddenly she was gone, flying into the sky. The rest of the Aquatos, and Ford separated into the forest to look for Dion. Raz and Ford went north, meanwhile, Donatella and Agustus went east, Frazie stayed back to look after the kids and just in case Dion found a way back to the camp. . . . . .
Gisu was hovering above the Forgetful Forest scanning the area below as well as she could. She was looking for that dorky acrobat that she had gotten to know for the past two months, wondering how could he had managed to hide this type of issue long enough to have such a breakdown. Throwing agent Ford from the middle of the woods all the way to the campgrounds wasn’t a small action, levitating someone that far was impressive for someone who has repressed their powers for as long as Dion has. Her thoughts were interrupted when she got close to losing her balance and falling. A force trying to push her away from an exact spot in the forest, a small clear in the forest where there was a boulder. Trees were being pushed so hard away from that spot that some were being uprooted from the ground. Carefully Gisu did her best to go as close as she could in her skateboard, eventually she had to descend to the ground since she couldn’t move forward anymore. Gisu moved forward slowly, every step felt like if she was pushing a boulder that was getting heavier and heavier with each step. By the time Gisu had gotten to the boundaries of the clear, she had to hold on to a tree or else she would have been thrown away. Looking at the boulder she could see a familiar figure sitting in front of it, with his knees covering his face and his hair being an unrecognizable mess. There was Dion, shaking and sobbing in front of that boulder. Gisu was stunned. What happened to him?! Is he okay?! “Dion?!”- Gisu’s voice echoed through clear, her tone concerned. “GO AWAY!”- Dion’s voice roared into Gisu’s ears, almost deafening the girl. “You need to calm down, you’re destroying the forest!” “GISU YOU NEED TO LEAVE, I DON’T WANT TO HURT YOU!”- misery emanated from the boy, in all of his seventeen years of life nothing like this had happened to him. He was terrified of himself and very much lost in his own despair. Gisu stabbed the ground with her skateboard, propelling herself forward and using said skateboard as a cane in order to get the closest she could to him.  Using her own telepathy she tried her best to counter the force of Dion’s own psychic energy. The closer she got, the stronger Dion’s energy became, it was crazy and she didn’t know how to handle it. “GISU LEAVE!” She kept walking onward taking no mind of Dion’s words, just a few more steps and she would reach him, but it felt as if he were miles away. “GISU, STOP!” Her strength wavered, all of his force suddenly focused on her alone. His mind was tormented by screams, guilt invaded his body. HE had thrown Ford Cruller into the sky. HE levitated an old man and threw him to oblivion. HE had killed Ford Cruller, all because of… because… “DION PLEASE LET ME HELP! I’VE SEEN THIS HAPPEN A MILLION TIMES BEFORE. YOU JUST NEED TO CALM DOWN AND BREATH!”- Her cries resonated through the clear, her skateboard started to crack under pressure, she needed to act as fast as she could. She increased the energy she was putting into protecting herself and she kept moving forward. Dion felt hopeless, he needed to get Gisu away or he would hurt her like he hurt Ford. “GISU, PLEASE I DON’T WANT TO HURT YOU TOO!” The whispers in his mind were long gone, replaced by screams of fury, guilt and fear. This time he knew all those voices were just him. HE was tormenting himself for what he had done, screaming into his mind until he broke and finally exploded. HE thought it was fair, he deserved to end like this. Not just for what he did to Ford but for how he treated Raz, how he annoyed Gisu with his stupid questions about psychics, how he treated the people around him, how he was bound to explode and no one, not even himself, could stop it from happening. But at least he would make sure to not take anyone down with him. Suddenly a soft sensation was felt on his shoulders, like a thin blanket. Dion looked up from his knees and there she was. Gisu holding on to her skateboard, her knuckles white from the effort. Her hair waving as if a storm was hitting her directly on her face. A soft smirk planted on her face. Her scarf missing from her shoulders and gently placed on his. Tears began to run down from his eyes, all the way to his chin. The pressure stopped, the screams wavered turning back into whispers and the world finally stopped spinning. Gisu took his hands and gently lifted them both to stand. Her hands were rough and cold from all of her mechanical projects with Otto, but for Dion they felt like a safe place, something he hadn’t felt from anyone ever since he was a child. “Let’s go back to the campgrounds your family is looking for you and it's getting dark.”- her voice was soft, a hint of relief on her tone. Dion nodded. They started walking out of the clear and reentering the forest. They had a long way back and Gisu knew it was better to hold her breath since the Aquato family were definitely going to have a rough night. END OF PART 2.
PART 1:
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dontcare77ghj · 4 years
Text
Siren
Steve x reader x Thor x Bucky
These humans had kept you captive for months, perhaps even longer, as you had no semblance of time in this prison.
You were born a siren. Raised with a pod of your own kind until these humans had taken you.
You had been stupid to rise to the surface that you now knew. The elders had always warned you against going near the above world because of the human world. The elders never elaborated beyond it was dangerous.
But you were young, and you thought you knew better.
So you had risen. You had dragged yourself up onto a rock and stared at the clear blue sky above you. The stone was warm. Sun was beaming down onto your skin, and for the first time in your life, you watched as your tail split into a pair of legs.
And for those few blissful moments, you felt at peace.
Until the elders surfaced and were glaring at you in full fury.
They had screamed and screeched at you to return to the water or be banished from the pod. You had begged to know why you couldn't be here, why it was dangerous above water.
You never got your answer as you eventually sunk back into the water and felt your legs shift back.
Just as you were all about to submerge and return to the pod, a burning pain entered your shoulder.
An unearthly scream had left you as you gazed at the hook embedded in your shoulder. As you were being forcibly dragged backward, you watched as the elders submerged and left you.
You had been bound, collared, and forced into a tank where you now spent your miserable days.
These humans had known about your kind for decades and were only waiting for one of you to be stupid enough to rise so they could capture them.
Whoever your capturers were, they were experts in their field. They had captured many enhanced people and creatures, as they called you, that were not supposed to exist.
They experimented on you. Every day of your life here was torture, and you felt hopeless. You were trapped in a tank and collared with something that meant you couldn't use your powers against them, and your tail chained to the bottom of the tank.
The only comfort you had was the fact your soulmate was still out there.
Injuries that were not your own continued to appear on your body, and every time you saw one, a flicker of hope began to build.
They were still out there.
Everyone had a soulmate in the world, and the way you could identify them was by your matching injuries.
But not all injuries transferred to one another. Most were more of a phantom pain that you would share, but bigger injuries, larger bouts of pain, were shared.
"Your lip is split." A man in the cell beside you said. "Is it your soulmate?"
"They're always injured." You nodded, gently touching the cut that didn't hurt.
"Look who's talking." Loki snorted. "How long ago was it, darling, that they were cutting you to test how fast you healed?"
"Not long enough." You grimaced.
Loki was the only one in this hell hole you could talk to. There were only three other prisoners left here now. There was a girl who could project nightmares out into the real world, the collar stopped her from projecting, but she was trapped in her own. There was a man who could turn into solid rock but never spoke. And a young boy whose powers you didn't know, but he sat there mumbling prayers to himself all day and night.
A loud clang interrupted the two of you. Your head snapped to the doors to see two guards and a doctor enter the room.
"It'll have to be this one." The doctor said, gesturing to the cell on your other side. "So even if they risk facing the electricity, the bars will be too strong to break." He told the guards. "When we've finished our tests, you'll bring them back here."
"Yes, sir." The guards both nodded and with that, the three left the room.
"Looks like we're going to get some new roommates." Loki shrugged. "And I have no welcoming gift for them, shame."
You weren't sure how much time had passed when the doors open once more. You hadn't thought about your new prison mates since the guards left. Your mind had been too occupied by the pain you felt.
"Get your hands off him!" A blonde male yelled, struggling against the guards holding him.
"Oh, dear," Loki murmured.
"Hey! Hey! Hey! Easy now!" A long brunette exclaimed as he and the blonde were thrown into the cell beside you. The brunette rushed to the cell door and held onto the bars. "Mother fucker!" He swore, yanking his hands away.
"All the cells are electrified." You informed them.
Both men's heads snapped towards you, and you watched as their eyes grew wide.
"You have a tail." The blonde said, staring down at your scaled appendage. "
"Forget the tail, Stevie, look. Her lip. Her shoulder." The brunette said, pointing to your scared shoulder. Your hand immediately flew up to cover the ugly scar.
Your eyes narrowed at the two, and before you could hiss something at them, you noticed something very peculiar.
The matching split lips the two sported.
"This can't be real." You muttered, watching the two closely. The blonde tugged his shirt down to reveal the same distinct scar on your shoulder.
"Soulmate." The two said.
"Soulmates." You repeated, confused.
"I guess this means you're also mated to my brother, darling," Loki said, breaking the moment.
Your soulmate's heads snapped to him.
"Loki?"
"How long have you been here?" Steve asked you as Bucky searched for weak parts of the cell.
"I'm not sure." You admitted. "We're not told how long we're here, and time is different from home."
"What is the date, Captain?" Loki asked, standing as close to the bars as he dared.
"October 17th, 2018," Steve told him.
"Y/N was here before I, and I've been here five months," Loki told them.
"How did they get you?" You questioned your soulmates.
"Caught us by surprise," Bucky said, moving to stand beside Steve. "We've been looking for this one since he disappeared." He told you, nodding his head in Loki's direction. "We found a lead and went to check it out. They were waiting for us."
"How did they catch you, Loki?" Steve asked, raising a brow. "And how have they kept you hidden for this long?"
"In all honesty, I don't know." Loki sighed. "I was exploring an occult shop the little witch recommended me, I leave, and the next thing I know, I am trapped in this disgusting excuse of a prison."
"What is the point of this place? They took our blood and some other things." Bucky told them.
"This is a testing facility." You said. "We're their experiments. This stops us from using any of our powers." You told them, tapping the collar that sat against your throat.
"I believe that this collar is why no-one can locate anyone in this facility," Loki added.
"How do we get them off?" Steve demanded as he tried to pull at his.
"You can't." You shook your head. "Only someone not wearing one can remove a collar."
"Shit," Bucky swore, running his fingers through his hair.
"It's fine, Buck. The team will find us. Thor will find us." Steve assured everyone. "We're getting out of here."
"I have been here five months, Captain." Loki shook his head. "Your promises do not inspire hope."
No-one had come. In however long since Steve had made his promise, no-one had come.
But this didn't surprise you. No-one ever came, except for the doctors and the guards.
They always came.
Since the arrival of your soulmates, the three of you had worked on strengthing your bond as best you could. The two told you stories about their lives and their third, your last soulmate, Loki's brother, Thor. In turn, you told them about your past and what you were.
"What do you miss most about your home?" Bucky asked out of the blue.
"The whales." You said with a fond smile. "They traveled all the oceans, and I'd always listen to their stories."
"Did your pod not travel much?" Steve wondered.
"No. The elders always said the pod belonged in one place. We weren't supposed to question them." You shrugged.
"Something tells me you didn't listen to that rule much." Bucky teased.
"There was no reasoning for their rules. No explanation. Who wants to live like that?" You smiled. "What's Thor like?" You asked your two soulmates.
"Kind," Steve said as Bucky said,
"Fantastic."
"He's always joyous," Steve told you. "Always ready for a laugh."
"Stands up for the little guy," Bucky mentioned. "He's going to love you, doll." "I hope so. My interactions with Norse Gods are pretty minimal." You said, looking over at a sleeping Loki.
"So was ours before. Trust us, you'll be more than fine." Steve smiled.
Before you could respond, the familiar sound of the doors being thrown open interrupted you. At the noise, Loki sat up, Steve and Bucky stood, and you watched as the guards made their way towards you.
You tensed when your cell door was thrust open, and three guards approached your tank.
"Watch it." One guard snapped at another who pulled your tank too roughly. "Perkins will kill you if you hurt her."
"What's he care? He's gonna cut her open anyway." A guard snapped, yanking the tank once more.
"Careful, you're gonna-" The guard started to yell, but it was too late. Your tank was jolted forward and smashed against the ground. As soon as you were no longer in a body of water, your legs began to shift.
And now you were laid on the floor, completely naked, clutching a bleeding cut on your cheek.
"Look what you've fucking done, Paul." The guard snapped, reaching down to grab you by the arm.
A loud yelp escaped you as the man yanked you to your unsteady feet and held you tightly against him.
"Get your hands off her!" Bucky shouted, kicking the bars of the cell.
"Ed, look." The third guard said, gesturing to the two men, the two men who had matching cuts to yours.
"Who woulda thought America's golden boy would be mates with a fish?" Ed laughed, dragging you forward. "You think Perkins knows about this?"
"Fuck no. You know, Perkins woulda already set up new experiments if he did." The third man shook his head.
"Maybe it's time he knew," Ed murmured. "D, you're with me," Ed said, opening Steve and Bucky's cell and throwing you in. A grunt left your mouth as you hit the floor before you were in Bucky's arms. "Paul, clean up this fucking mess. And get a new tank." He ordered.
"Shame Perkins won't let us play with the merchandise," Paul said, staring at you as the two other men rushed out. "You look good for a fish." He added as Steve and Bucky growled, and Bucky turned, shielding you from Paul's eyes.
"Here, doll," Steve said, pulling off his shirt and helping you into it as Paul left.
The long-sleeved blue material was soft and fell almost to your knees. In your pod, there had been no such thing as covering up or modesty. Everyone was bare from the torso up anyway, but if this shirt would hide you from the guards prying eyes, you would never be taking it off.
"Are you okay?" Bucky asked, pulling back slightly to look you over. "How much glass got you?" He questioned, checking your available skin.
"I'm fine." 
"Don't think we can't feel your pain." Bucky rose a brow.
"My feet hurt." You mumbled after a second.
"May I?" Steve asked, holding a hand near them. The blonde gently pulled your feet onto his lap once you nodded. "I can't tell if there's any glass in them, but they're both bleeding."
"It's okay. I'll heal." You promised him. "Hi." You smiled, looking at the two up close for the first time.
"Hi." Steve grinned, taking your hand.
"This is a pretty neat trick, doll," Bucky said, putting a hand on your knee. "They know about this?"
"Yes." You nodded. "They've already done their tests." You added with a grimace.
"We're going to take you away from here, Y/N," Steve promised you. "One way or another, we're getting out of here."
"Hope breeds eternal misery, Captain." Loki interrupted.
"When have you been one to lose hope, Loki?" Bucky asked his soulmate's brother.
"I have not lost hope, Sargent. I am merely trying to warn the woman from putting much stock in the belief of escape. Ask how many bodies she has seen dragged from this place." Loki said, causing you to look down.
Too many.
"We started this mission to find you, Loki. The team will find us, Thor will find us, and everyone in here is getting out." Steve firmly stated.
"I'm sorry, Captain, but it appears we'll have to disagree here."
After Loki's comment, it had gone silent, minus of course, the mumbled prayers of a boy.
The three of you had sat, huddled towards the back of the cell with you still sitting on Bucky's lap.
"I wouldn't go back to my pod." You said, playing with Bucky's fingers. "When we get out. I don't think they'd have me back anyway."
"Why's that, doll?"
"I didn't listen to the elders, and I never passed my rites of passage." You shrugged.
The rites of passage were a series of trials that a coming-of-age siren would complete to show their dedication to the pod. One of those trails was to drown a human.
And that, you couldn't bring yourself to do.
"You can come back with us," Steve told you. "The Tower has plenty of space for you to have a room of your own."
"Or you could share our room," Bucky suggested.
"Or you could share our room. Whatever you're comfortable with, doll." Steve promised.
"I might have to stay close to you three. Seems someones got to make sure you three don't get injured." You teased.
"Trust me, doll, that's all, Steve." Bucky quietly chuckled.
The doors crashed open for the second that day. The three guards from earlier reappeared, along with another three, with two doctors behind them.
"Congratulations on finding each other!" A doctor cheered as the cell door was pulled open, and guards pulled the three of you to a stand. "We've never had two soulmates here before! Let alone three!"
"Really, what a shame we're the first," Bucky muttered, glaring at the guards restraining you and Steve.
"I mean, who would have thought two super soldiers would be mated with a siren? There are so many questions, so many trials we must now have." The doctor rambled as the three of you were dragged from the room.
"Unfortunately for the three of you, these new trials and tests won't be pleasant." The other doctor informed you all as you stumbled on your unsure legs.
"Like anything that's done here is pleasant." Steve scoffed.
"But you know what they say, pain equals progress." The first doctor shrugged.
"Did anyone ever teach about gentle?" You snapped as the three of you were forced onto metal tables and strapped down.
"Or how to treat a lady?" Bucky asked before grunting as his collar shocked him. Both you and Steve made noises of discomfort.
"Small doses of pain can be felt through the bond!" The first doctor cheered as the other wrote it down.
"That was a small dose?" 
"We continue down the scale!"
"Who the fuck taught you what a scale was?" Bucky grunted what felt like days later. "Because that did not go up in a scale."
The two doctors had worked on the three of you for what must have been hours. Blood covered the three of you and dripped onto the floor as you all tried to catch your breath.
"I see your attitude was not affected by the tests." The second doctor scoffed as the first rapidly wrote down his notes.
"We only have one more test for the day." The first doctor said, nodding at the guards who began to set up for the next test.
"You have been alive as long as Sargent Barnes here, haven't you, Captain? Tell us, did you feel it when this happened?" Steve was asked as the doctor trailed his fingers over Bucky's arm.
"What,you're gonna cut our arms off now?" You asked, watching the doctors in a panic.
"Perhaps in time. But we have a much more pressing question for today." He said as a hose was pulled out. "I wonder what would happen to the Captain and Sargent if we cut your tail." He told you, and suddenly you were soaked.
Your legs shifted back, and your panic began to build.
"Wait, no, please, don't do this." You begged, attempting to wrench your body off the table.
"You've done enough testing! You don't need to do this!" Steve yelled.
"This is all in the name of progression." The first doctor said, ignoring your pleas as he sat at the end of the table, a tray of tools beside him.
"There is no progression in this!"
"Roberts begin recording." The doctor ordered. "Beginning test one, removing scales. As recorded before, scales are incredibly tough to remove by tweezers. So we will be cutting them out." He stated calmly before using a scalpel to expertly slice your scales.
A loud scream left you as your soulmates exclaimed loudly in anger and pain.
"Male subjects can feel female's pain even in this form!" The doctor grinned. "Proceeding onto next test!" He said, holding up what looked like the nose of a sawfish.
"If you fucking touch her again, I'll rip your head off!" Bucky yelled as your voice got caught in your throat.
Both doctors ignored Bucky's threats as they continued with their experiments.
Just as the sawfish-looking tool touched the base of your tail when the lights and machines of the room turned off.
"What happened?"
"Must be an electrical short." A guard said, causing Steve and Bucky to laugh as a loud, echoing boom reached your ears.
"Get out there." Roberts snapped to the guards, who immediately rushed outside.
"You're dead now." Bucky laughed. "Nothing's going to save you now." He said as the guards began to yell.
"Perkins," Roberts said, backing up. "I believe it's time to run."
"Run? Never! These are our experiments. No-one can take them from us!" Perkins scoffed before the door boomed open.
There stood a tall blond man. His blonde hair was long and slightly matted with blood, and electricity was dancing on his skin.
"You dare touch my soulmates!" He boomed, raising his hammer as his eyes glowed brightly.
Electricity filled the room, and soon, both doctors were unconscious on the ground.
"Steven. James." The man sighed, rushing over to the closest man.
"Thor." Bucky smiled as Thor began to rip the bonds holding him. "We have someone for you to meet."
"This is Y/N, our other soulmate." Steve smiled, tilting his head towards you. "Y/N, this is Thor."
"Hi." You smiled, teeth stained with blood. "I'm normally not this blood-stained, I swear."
"I believe that. It is wonderful to meet another soulmate, but perhaps introductions are best made once we are out of here." He said as he and Bucky ripped Steve's bonds, causing you and Steve to laugh.
"That's probably for the best." You nodded. The three men made their way over to you, and Bucky pulled the hose away from you, causing you to shift.
"Did you find Loki?" Steve asked the God.
"Aye. We found the prison first, and Loki told the three of you had been taken. He and the others are with the rest of the team." Thor told him as the two helped you to your feet.
You attempted to take a step, but you had never walked on your own before, and so, you began to collapse. You were caught by thick arms and pulled into a burly chest.
"Are you alright, darling?" Thor asked, looking you over in concern.
"I'm fine. Just not very steady." You said, your cheeks burning red.
"Allow me," Thor said, handing his hammer to Steve and pulling you into his arms.
"Thank you."
"Of course. Anything for one of my soulmates."
"Are you trying to give us grey hairs?" Bucky asked, bandaging a cut on Steve's cheek, a cut you all now had.
"I didn't mean to trip, you know, Buck?" Steve muttered, looking down.
It had been two years since you had met your soulmates. Two years since the three had freed you from your prison.
The four of you were on vacation right now. It was the first vacation the four of you had taken together and your first one altogether.
Tony had loaned you one of his many houses, this one by the ocean, much to your pleasure.
"How is him tripping giving you grey hairs, James?" Thor asked in amusement.
"I don't know. It just is."
"I'm pretty sure they have cures for grey hairs, Buck." You mentioned. "You could borrow Clint's hair dye if it really bothers you."
"I'm telling him you said that." Bucky laughed.
"I'll protect you from the archer, my darling," Thor said, throwing his arm around your shoulders.
"Good because I don't think Bucky wants to clean up any more injuries. And Clint's a bleeder." Steve said, causing the three of you to laugh.
God, what you would give for it to always be like this.
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fairyoftbz · 3 years
Text
a rewritten faith | l. juyeon
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🪕 pairing: bartender! reader x cow-boy! juyeon 🪕 word count: 4k 🪕 genre: western! au, 1920s!au kinda?, angst to fluff 🪕 tw: mentions of violence, guns, fights, close death experience, deceased father, false accusations, swear words, the reader has some trauma 🪕 synopsis: you are the owner of the local saloon and something usual will happen, but it will take an unexpected turn. 🪕 a/n: i had this idea while watching a western film with my dad and i hope it's not gonna be too bad... 🪕 requested: no
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Your head turned to look at the entrance as the swing doors of the saloon burst open, two sergeants dragging another man inside, his face and body littered in bruises and cuts. He winced in pain as they shoved him against the counter not far from you, both giving him a hard slap at the back of the skull. With an attentive eye, you kept on polishing your whiskey glass with your used piece of cloth, watching everybody’s attention drawn towards the three men.
“You bloody bastard! Did you really think that you would get away with that? Raising your voice at Sir Landfield and seducing his daughter to use her for your own needs? Who did you think you were, the sheriff?” the entire pub erupted into a coarse laugh, some men hitting their pistol against the wooden tables to express their mockery. You, along with the waitresses, were the only ones to remain silent, your eyes darkening as you kept on drying your glasses. “I never touched Sir Landfield’s dau-” “Enough, bastard!” one of them yelled and punched him in the face, blood now oozing from the young man’s nose as his head swung to the side at the violence of the blow. He stumbled on the right, his wounded hand quickly grabbing the counter to prevent him from falling.
The church bells rang as it announced another hour of the day, the wind shifting some dirt and sand off the ground. Quickly glancing outside, you noticed a convoy drawn by horses walking down the main street, their whinnying getting louder as the man guiding them whipped their back and sides sharply.
“Gentlemen. What did your good-for-nothing do to our town? And what brings y’all in my father’s saloon?” you asked, the attention shifting from the culprit to you. You arched a brow as you slid the whisky glass you’ve just finished cleaning and another one across the counter, walking over the liquors to fill it for the men with their habitual orders.
“Ah,” one of them grunted. “This bastard thought he was the best in town and started arguing with Lord Landfield over some laws. He threatened him and even tried to get into his daughter’s panties!” one of them shouted as you poured alcohol into their glasses, noticing an arrogant smile plastered on his face. You didn’t like where this was going.
The culprit raised his eyes at you from his stool and observed you working, your orbs boring into his for a quick second before looking away to grab another bottle of liquor.
“Well, I’m pretty sure he had some good reasons to speak his mind to the mayor. Does he have a name?” you smirked as you placed a glass of herbal liquor in front of the soon-to-be-dead gentleman. He thanked you by a brief nod, and his face contorted into a grimace as he rose his glass to his lips, downing the drink in one go.
“He deserves to be hung by the balls, he’s from the Lees! Lee Juyeon! No one touches the mayor’s daughter like that except her husband!” the man on the left banged his fist onto the wooden counter, making everyone applaud and raise their glass at the idea.
Of course, you disagreed with their horrendous methods, but who were you to counter. Since you didn’t want to be the next in line, hung and burnt alive, you preferred to keep your mouth shut and observe.
“I never touched her!” exclaimed the-said Lee Juyeon but was quick to get shut up. “You don’t get to speak up, you piece of shit! If I said that you touched her, you did, end of the story!” Another man threw his fist right into the apparent lawbreaker’s nose, who immediately wiped his blood-spattered face on the side of his dirty shirt and spat on the floor.
You could tell that Juyeon was surprised by everyone’s agreement, trying his best to hide the fear in his eyes by clutching his jaw. One of the stablemen left the pub for a quick second before coming back, holding a long, white rope with a dirty smile on his face. Faces lit up in delight when he skilfully threw it in the air and swirled it around one of the massive wooden joists before tying a slipknot on the other end. The young man’s hand clutched around his glass, and he stared at you, noticing a hint of despair behind his two dark brown orbits.
You’ve seen many men and women in his state, but for once, you spotted something different. Sincerity, pain, and hopelessness could be observed in this man’s behaviour. He looked like he couldn’t hurt a fly, but you also knew that men were good at lying and being pitied when it was needed. However this time, for some reasons, you felt your heart pinch at the visible fear daunting the cowboy.
The men of law sat down at a table near the swinging doors and lit up their cigars thanks to the waitress’ matches, only to slap her butt as a thank-you. She giggled like a teen girl, which made you even more sickened by the situation than you already were, many people emptying the saloon in fear of witnessing death.
“Oi bastard, are you thinking of a way to shag the bartender before your sentence? She’s pretty cute, right?” one of the officers yelled as the delinquent’s eyes lingered on your working figure. You sent them a death glare, and they elbowed each other with a dirty grin, the idea of shooting them between the eyes titillated your mind for a quick second. “Try not to get us thrown out, she can be pretty rough, just like her father,” you heard them snicker, and you turned around to sigh and roll your eyes, trying not to get arrested either by ‘disrespecting’ them, even if it looked really tempting.
Abruptly, the oldest officer pushed a chair with his foot towards the young man, puffing some smoke out of his mouth, the action leaving a greyish trail lingering above their bald, dirty-minded heads. The stableman grabbed the man from the counter and forced him to get on the chair before shoving his head inside the slipknot and tightened it.
Exhaling sharply as it already happened too many times since your father passed away and bequeathed the saloon to you, you closed your eyes and looked away, mentally cursing the sheriff for choosing your tavern for doing such horrible acts of what they called ‘justice’.
“So, Lee, any last words before we shoot you in the head?” one of the officers insolently said as he expertly swirled his pistol in his hand, his other holding the cigar close to his mouth. From where you were, you could see the culprit gritting his teeth, trying to remain neutral.
“No, I don’t. Because I have done anything wrong, except expressing my honest opinion to the sheriff. And, as much as you want me to, I never laid a finger on his daughter,” the man spat confidently, only to have the two officers and some other men around the saloon unpleasantly shaking their heads.
“I can’t believe it. Even at the edge of death, he’s still willing to lie,” locking the cylinder before lowering the hammer of his revolver, the officer pointed his weapon towards the young man, who stayed as still as possible.
Everyone stared at the scene with intensity, some drinking their liquors or taking puffs of cigars like they were watching and enjoying some entertainment. The culprit was staring intensely at the officers, making them understand that he wasn’t scared of the gun nor facing death. You, on the other hand, were exhausted of those illegal actions and atrocious scenes that already happened when your father was still from this world. Luckily, he always made sure to give you to the tailor next door when such things happened, but it wasn’t really helpful since you became responsible for the aftermath at a very age.
They weren’t the ones that got rid of the dead bodies they shot inside your establishment, they weren’t the ones crazily rubbing the dirt and dried blood off the wooden counter or ventilating the building to get rid of the gory, metallic smell lingering around, nor were they the ones getting scared and sick of working in such sordid conditions. Some graphic execution scenes were still lingering in your mind even years later and shocking you to the point of getting sick and wobbly for a few days, getting flashbacks of the gun firing off. No matter how many people you saw dying in the saloon or while walking around town after witnessing some settling of scores, you would never get used to this sleazy, corrupted method of getting rid of people.
And this case was the last straw. You could not handle another bloody situation, where people would be cheering and happily exiting the saloon as if nothing happened, leaving you mortified and scarred for the nth time behind.
As the sergeant was about to pull the trigger, you were swift to get out your dad’s revolver from the small compartment under the counter and shoot the wooden beam in two precise bullets. The waitresses shrieked and the rest of the souls populating the saloon flinched, hands going to protect their head and ears. You shot the wood three other times to make some dust and pieces fall to confuse everyone, hiding some bullets in your corset before going around the counter and grab the man by the sleeve. Among all the panicked people trying to rush out of the saloon, you dragged the man out through the back door, letting one of the waitresses take the control of the saloon.
“Come on, we don’t have a lot of time!” you said out of breath, the muddy ground staining the pans of your dress with a dark brown colour. The man looked still shocked to have narrowly dodged death, catching his breath as your hands were fumbling with the knot keeping your horse close to the wall. Seizing the reins with a soft yet skilled hold, you were quick to slide your foot in the stirrup and swing your leg over the beast, extending your hand for the man to take it.
He messily placed his foot on the wooden fence and jumped behind you, his hand still in yours as the fence collapsed under his weight. You felt his jerky breaths fanning your neck as you commanded the horse to race off.
“Ya! Ya!” you angrily yelled, repeatedly squeezing your legs around the horse for it to go faster as you heard some gravelly voices lingering around the saloon. Your horse neighed and picked up the pace, its hooves hammering the dried ground of the main street as you bolted out of the town. “Lower your head, we need to go faster!” you yelled and the man obeyed, your heart pulsating in your temples as you heard some screams and people opening fire towards you, bullets going through a few wooden wains from the neighbouring houses.
“Sorry about the fence,” the man whispered and you shook your head, eyes still focused on the dusty road. “That’s the least of my worries right now. Hold onto me instead so we can lose them faster,” you spat and whipped the reins on the horse’s neck, the man’s large hands landing onto your waist. “What’s your name, by the way?” he yelled so his voice wouldn’t be covered by the horse’s noises, and you slightly turned your head to the side. “Y/N,” You simply answered, trying to ignore his hands on you as he was accused of inappropriately touching the mayor’s daughter and pushed your feet down the stirrups as you went up a hill.
The town was quick to disappear behind you as you hurried into the taiga, following the winding trail as fast as possible. The lawbreaker was still holding onto your waist, his hold strengthening as you didn’t seem to be ready to slow down anytime soon. The concentrated look on your face didn’t subside at all, sometimes looking back to make sure that you weren’t being followed.
Your heart skipped a beat as your horse jumped over the railway line, his hooves toughly landing on the floor as the way started going downhill again, the man behind you hitting his chin against your shoulder due to the force of the impact. He mumbled a quick apology, but you didn’t even hear it, the wind blowing in your ears preventing any sound to reach you.
You finally ordered the horse to slow down as you reached another dense forest, the air feeling chiller as the sun was struggling to get through the infinite branches of sharpened pine needles. You and Juyeon kept your head low, the latter pushing his hat further onto his head to protect his already severely injured face from the spiky needles. He let out a small hum of surprise when you reached a small cottage with a wide range of greenery surrounding it, not expecting someone to live here. The air was so pure and fresh that it almost hurt your lungs, with no sign of tobacco smoke or dust from the road to poison your inner organs.
Getting off the horse, you drew the gun out of your corset and removed the bullets, tossing the revolver on a lonely stump. The man recoiled at the sight of the weapon, but instantly relaxed as you went behind the cottage. He grunted in pain as he got off the horse, giving it a gentle tap and rub its muzzle. It snorted quickly and turned around, walking further into the greenery to relax from the intensive workout you went through.
When you came back, the cottage key in hand, your gaze fell on the man leaning against a trunk, dried blood and cuts still covering his face. His bottom lip was split open, and his cheekbones were bruised, eyes bloodied by the dust and the several hits he received from the men of law. You sighed as you stared at him, hand sliding in the key and unlock the door.
“Come in,” you said as you pushed the door open, walking across the room to draw the curtains out.
Juyeon slowly limped inside, eyes travelling around the small living room, falling straight on a chair after placing your dad’s revolver on the table, the wood creaking under the collision. He groaned in pain and closed his eyes tightly, his jaw twitching as he suffered in silence.
You gave him some privacy and walked to the kitchen, getting some wood planks and a bunch of herbs and weeds from one of the cabinets. Just like your dad had taught you, you lit up a fire in the chimney and hung a small cauldron to the chain. You stood back up, the room getting filled with a heavy silence, not really sure of how to act with a possible criminal in your secret home. He sighed and groaned in pain many times as you prepared a brew and some lukewarm water to freshen up.
His worried eyes met yours as you heavily placed a wooden basin with steaming water on the table next to him, your hands sinking a piece of cloth in the warm water and twisting it.
“Take off your shirt, I need to clean and check your wounds,” you monotonously said, and the man’s hands hovered above his top, hesitantly undoing the first few buttons while looking outside.
He gulped as he exposed his torso to you, your eyes widening in shock for a quick second at the state of it. He got beaten up severely, red, and purple areas already littering his entire thorax. The bruises looked excruciating and probably caused some inner injuries, hence his unnatural movements.
You quickly pulled his shirt away from his body and ditched it on the table, eyes now wandering around his arms. He was pretty muscular – you couldn't neglect the steel-craved abs embellishing his torso – but the cuts and wounds were critical enough to damage the view.
Starting by cleaning his wounds and body with the piece of cloth, Juyeon tried his best to remain still, but it got intolerable at some point. He started hissing and cursing – not at you, he was grateful that you were willing to put yourself in danger to save and take care of him – but more in pain, his eyes flooding with anger as he recalled the sergeants’ faces and their accusations.
“You know,” the man started through gritted teeth before groaning as the piece of cloth grazed against a sensitive laceration on his collarbone, “I didn’t touch the sheriff’s daughter. I'd never touch a woman like that despite what they want everyone to believe,” you quickly looked at him in the eyes and chuckled, your hand delicately grasping his wrist to lift his arm to clean the residues of the cut on the side of the torso.
“I think it’s impossible for you to do so,” your voice trailed as you focused on your task, the man questioningly looking at you. “How so?” “She’s on the other side of the world, probably a thousand miles away from us. Serena is a successful woman, she’s sacred to her father. You probably saw her mother strutting around town like she’s the next queen, which is something quite ridiculous but funny at the same time. Serena is the pride of the family because she got married to an Australian businessman and is now living like a good middle-class person, you know?” his eyes widened as you explained everything to him, his tongue clicking in frustration.
“Lies? I became the scapegoat of those assholes for lies?” you defeatedly sighed and shrugged as the man was furrowing his brows, getting upset. “Welcome to our town, I guess. It is how we, no they, make the peace reign there. We all know that nobody shouldn’t mess with the mayor, but I guess that you are not from here, so you miserably fell into his trap,” you offered him a compassionate smile and carried on with cleaning him, wiping your damp hands on your dress as you got back to the fireplace.
You came back with the cauldron, hands enveloped in the wet piece of cloth as you gently plunged it in the water, Juyeon flinching at the steam surfacing from the warm-cold impact. Your eyes focused on the plant-based mixture you had prepared to heal and sanitise his injuries, following your grandma’s textbook to the letter.
Juyeon groaned again at the warm solution being applied on his body, feeling his skin itch and burn as you kept rubbing the product in. He looked up as you focused on your task, now rubbing his arm while holding his limb with a certain grace. On your face, he could discern some sadness and exhaustion hidden in your features, his mind wandering to what possibly happened to you to be in this situation.
“And you?” he started with a more hesitant voice as if he was scared to frighten a deer, “what made you the bartender of this saloon?” your hand quickly stopped working but resumed almost instantly, but Juyeon noticed.
“Owner,” you corrected, and his eyes widened, an impressed look painted on his face, “I am the only survivor in my family, they all died from sickness or old age. I became the owner of the saloon as soon as my father passed away. He was in this horrible business, letting the authorities do their dirty work inside the bar, away from prying, curious eyes. Of course, since I am a woman and is only good at taking care of children and clean, they keep coming here no matter how many times I refused. I, fortunately, didn’t have to witness every single execution when I was young, but it still sends me into anxiety fits when it happens. I’ve seen a lot of people going through what you’ve just escaped from and it’s almost impossible to get rid of the flashbacks,” you briefly explained, feeling the tears well up in your throat at the mention of your deceased father and harrowing trauma, but you swallowed thickly and repressed your emotions, keeping a neutral face.
“S-Sorry, I didn’t mean it,” he mumbled, and you shook your head, wetting your hands in the basin to quickly get rid of any remaining substance. “It’s fine,” you emotionlessly said, hurrying back in the kitchen to get some time alone.
Juyeon didn’t mean to hurt you by stirring some hurtful memories, but of course, curiosity killed the cat. Thanks to you, he had escaped his humiliating death sentence, and all he did was unintentionally pressing the wrong buttons. Agonisingly, he gritted his teeth and closed his eyes as he got up, the room slightly spinning as he limped towards the kitchen to come to you. Your shoulders were heaving up and down as you attempted to muffle your cries and silence your emotions, not wanting to break down in a room with a man other than your father. It was one rule that you forced yourself to follow, not wanting to appear weak to anyone's eyes.
“I’m sorry, it wasn’t my intention to hurt you like that,” his cavernous voice resonated against the walls of the empty kitchen, making you wince and quickly wipe your face with trembling hands before turning around. “How could you know?” you said with puffy eyes, the sight squeezing Juyeon’s heart as you tried to give him what was supposed to be a reassuring smile. He slowly walked to you and took a gentle hold of your trembling wrists, his chocolate orbs boring into your own. The gaze that you had found quite intimidating a few minutes ago when he was angry against his attackers currently held something completely different. It wasn’t pity as you were used to when you brought up your past, but something more like compassion and tenderness.
“Y/N. I know I'm a complete stranger and a criminal in your eyes, but I wanna help you the way you did for me,” he started, and you stared at the ground, trying to get off his grip. “I don’t need help,” you mumbled, but he didn’t let you go, the grasp around your forearms tightening but still felt consoling.
“Yes, yes you do. Withdrawing yourself into silence won't solve anything, it will only give prominence to your sadness and scars and prevent you from moving on. You don't have anyone to talk to about it anymore, you keep everything to yourself and stay stuck in this state of distress. You helped me avoid death and run away, so let me assist you in breaking away from your past. At least allow me to try,” he whispered those words to you as if he was afraid someone else would hear.
Tears blurred your vision, something that didn't ordinarily happen when the discussion topic was your father. You always managed to hold back your tears, but for reasons that were still unknown to you, with Juyeon, it was like your brain allowed him to see your raw, true side for some reason, despite knowing him for less than an hour. Maybe it was the fact that he wasn’t from your town and wouldn’t be telling your secrets to anyone else to cause you harm or humiliation.
“One trauma at a time. You need to get some rest first,” you countered his argument by guiding him out of the kitchen, and Juyeon let out a chuckle, frustrated that you cared more about his well-being than yours. “Very well then, but promise me you'll let me help,” he asked as you walked him into the rocking seat where your grandfather used to take his nap when he was still in your life.
"We'll see," you whispered, helping him to sit down before giving him a small smile. He let go of one of your wrists and lifted your hand to his face, placing a kiss on the back of your hand while never breaking eye contact, the action of chivalry making your heart skip a beat.
"Thank you for everything you have done for me," He mumbled before kissing your hand again, his damaged lips curving into a smile as you let your hand linger in his, against his mouth.
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