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hcdragonwrites · 1 year

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Apple Blossoms (@journey-to-the-au What if AU fic)

A cute Haarini and Wukong fic that I’ve been dying to push out. God I love this pairing so much. Please ENJOY!

“How long do you think it will take?” Bajie, third disciple, was leaned against the monastery wall a frown furrowing his snout. The pig had just wanted Wukong settle their Master into an alcove in the room, set away from any windows or doorways. Of course Trip had asked Wukong to go begging for fruits- even though the monastery had given them a hearty course of noodles and steamed buns from the kitchens. Wukong had obliged his master, bowing low before seeking out her and asking her if she wanted anything.

“What do you mean?” Wujing was tending to some clothing, working a needle through the ripped and broken stitching along the edge of the fabric. The river demon didn’t seem to have a care in the world as the Stone Monkey leapt from the window and out into the afternoon light beyond.

“Come on Wujing!” Bajie stated exasperated. “ You can’t be blind to what’s going on…” he motioned with his hands to the open window where their brother had gone out and the silver form of Haarini who brought over the scrolls Tripitaka had requested from the monastery archives.

Wujing looked up from his stitching when Bajie have him a kick in his leg and blinked. It took him a moment between looking out the latticed window and to the silver simian beside their master to piece together what was bothering Bajie so much.

“Oh you mean between Wukong and Miss Haarini?” Wujing asked. He didn’t quite see the point his brother was trying to make.

“Yes. The ape is practically head over heels for her and he doesn’t have a clue!” Bajie fumed. He watched Haarini help lay out stones to hold the old and crumbling scroll open, setting a small red candle nearby so Tripitaka could read the fading letters with little strain. Bajie liked to think he was an expert on love and courtship. He had experience - albeit mostly rejections but he would never admit they were failures, just wrong girl wrong time scenarios- and had an eye to see that when Wukong looked at Haarini he had all the tenderness in the world.

“I think the young Miss is also in love with him.” Wujing commented softly. He was almost done fixing the hole in his spare trousers. Bajie whirled off the wall and gripped the river demons shoulders and gave such a violent shake as to send the needle flying out of his hand.

“So you see it too?!” Bajie ground his teeth. If he was a fire demon, steam would have been coming from between his teeth. “Why doesn’t Wukong come out with it and just say it?! It’s infuriating.”

“Infuriating that he’s clueless ?” Wujing bent down to feel for his needle, staying calm even though some of the stitching from his hard work had come undone. “Or is infuriating because Bajie is jealous that our brother has someone interested in him?”

The sly taunt pricked the pig just as Wujing found his needle again- only to loose it as his brother grabbed his shoulders and shook again.

“Wujing! I had a wife remember.” Bajie huffed. “ If anyone knows romance it would be me!”

“Keeping your wife locked up while your in-laws called you a monster?” Wujing pushed his brother off him and caught his needle up again.

“I plowed their fields! I harvested their crops! They should be thankful for such a good Son-in-law!” Crowed the ex marshal. Haarini peaked around at them from her place beside Tripitaka. They were making such a noise about marriage and the pat exploits of Bajie she couldn’t help but listen in.

“Tell that to your ex wife.” Haarini heard that and immediately turned back to the scriptures Tripitaka was gently explaining. Whatever the two brothers were talking about- she wanted nothing to do with.

“Why doesn’t he just say it?!” Bajie reiterated, setting himself back down and against the wall.

“Say what?” Wujing was already engrossed in his work again, having forgotten what point his brother was trying to get to.

“That he loves her Brother! That he is doting on her like a moon eyed dawn after its mother!” It was adorable to see the very cheeky and very sly monkey stumble over his own feet in the presence of a girl. It would give Bajie satisfaction- if it didn’t confound him that this monkey had gained the amour and fluttering lashes of a lady!! “He practically tangled tails with her at every moment!”

“Maybe Wukong doesn’t really understand why he loves her… or what he may be feeling.” Wujing observed.

“What do you mean Wujing? Are you hinting that … Wukong may Never have … felt love before?” The thought seemed so sudden, so alien to Bajies mind that he recoiled from it. Bajie had loved almost since the moment he could conceptualized the thought. There were a lot of pretty women in the courts of Heaven and across the cosmos. I mean… they were women! Pretty dainty things with lips and curves and they all smelled wonderful! To think Wukong had never felt love.. never trysted with another …

“He’s felt love.” Wujing amended. With a pull and tug, the thread came free of its binding in a nice stitch. The hole was mended. “I just don’t think he’s ever had a crush.”

Wukong traipsed through the grove of apple trees, smiling softly to himself. His basket was full of fruit from seven different mountaintops now. He had oranges, cherries, plums, peaches, strawberries, mangos and apples. An assortment of fruits he had to beg and somersault across ranges and deserts for, to hop and skip rivers and oceans just to get across.

Wukong wouldn’t range so far for several reasons. One was his master had a terrible stroke of misfortune that always plagued him to no end whenever the monkey was gone. One would think after so many kidnappings and snatchings, trickings and plyings with sly words, that his other brothers would become more observant right ? Wrong! Wujing could be depended upon, bless him. But Bajie? Sometimes Wukong wanted to peel those pig ears off his head and wipe that grin from his snout in frustration.

When it came down to seeing glamour Wukong was the best. No demon could hide from his discerning eye. His Master knew this- and still would be swayed my Bajies words to disbelieve the Sage.

Bajie had talked his Master into saving demonic women who could pluck the very souls from bodies. The pig had made arguments against Wukongs cautions when it came to a platter of fruits that smelled too sweet or tea that looked just a bit to colorful. And the third disciple ? He had a terrible and scary habit of falling asleep at any and all hours. Ba Longma, their second brother and disciple, had had to wake the pig on more occasions then not.

So the rest of Wukongs reasons? They solely fell on Bajies shoulders. The blame for Wukongs paranoia was at the pigs feet. However that had changed when she came to join them.

Haarini.

She was a flash of silver white fur that had taken him by surprise, knife held to his throat and her teeth flashing. “Who are you?” Had been hissed from a face full of violence and fear.

I am someone completely confused and surprised. Had been Wukongs first thoughts.

Wukong had knives, polestars, maces, bats, clubs, swords, halbergs, quarterstaves, fans, morningstars, greatswords, axes, arrows, tekko, butterfly swords, falchions, rapiers, katana, Dadao and all things sharp or meant for killing pointed at him along the journey. The people wielding them had been mortal and demon alike.

However none of them had been monkey. It was like … looking into the past. She resembled nothing of his people, nothing of his mountain. She wasnt him, had never been him.

Yet the fear… the tremble… Haarini had been in a state when she came to the group. It had taken communicating and gentle coaxing by all to get her to ease. And when she did ? She promptly fell to sleep like a stone being dropped in water. Wukong felt a smidge of something within him beginning to grow white hot. An ember of a feeling he had not been aware of missing.

He had been king of Flower Fruit Mountain longe before he had been imprisoned beneath the Five Phases mountain. Though he hadn’t acted kingly in quite a long time, Wukong felt himself beginning to slip back into that mantel.

Was he bossing anyone around and giving orders and such? No. Being a king was a bit more then that. Besides Bajie would probably disregard him as he always did if given an order. No this was the other side of Wukong that had been seen in glimpses and flashes, like a white Hart in the woods.

This was the part he had always at his core had been: loving. Caring. Compassionate. Wukong wanted the best for his people. He had been driven across the sea to find in in Sabhuti and learn of the art of eternal life. The monkey had cultivated himself for years- all in the name of seeing his people live long and happy lives. To forever live.

Wukong had seen what death did. It took the joy from the living, took a person they loved - wether it be mate or child, mother or sibling- and left nothing but the frozen form from whence their soul inhabited. A husk of the bright flicker that had been before. Wukong had seen his fair share of tears from his people when the first of their troop had died, heart giving out in the middle of festivities and livelihood.

He had tasted the tears of his people as they had buried the elder, the first death Wukong had seen so naturally snatched in the prime spark of life, thrown petals onto the body. Wukong had experienced his first burial. He had seen the mourning.

That sorrow had been a thorn in his foot, a bite from a bug he could not ignore. He worried at it, picked at it. Would he suffer the same fate? But if he did- who would be left to protect the little children,the elder mothers, the stubborn adolescents, from the things that prowled and saw them as nothing more then Monkeys?

They were more then Monkeys. Each of his people had a name. The elder, Sunrise, had been the first name etched into the stone monkeys heart. Wukong refused to forget his smile, the way he called the loudest in the halls during feasts, or how he liked to tell the little ones ghost stories and make the mothers box him about the ears.

Wukong had made a determination, a declaration to himself. That would be the last needless death.

He had not been able to fulfil it completely.

Wukongs own need to secure safety had lead to his rise in power, which had lead to Heavens notice of him. This had lead to the first incidence of scorn and contempt by immortals Wukong had ever experienced. From Humanity? He had learned in his time with Sabhuti that bot all the disciples there looked at him with fondness.

They were mortal men, unaccustomed to the long days of merriment and joviality that Sun Wukong had created in his mountain. Their time was fleeting in Wukongs mind- like grains of sand racing to the bottom of the glass. Wukong wanted to stop his own pell mell fall into that same trap- and had succeeded.

From immortals however ? Beings he had given respect to - as much as he could while also giving them a bit of cheek and teasing for that was his way, to tease and to teach- and had been full of wisdom to him?

They had treated him nothing like his people. Nothing like Sabhuti. Contempt and belittlement had been slung at him.

So of course he had reacted.

That had been more then Five hundred years go. Ages since he had last seen his people, the children, the elders of his mountain.

Flashes of his old self, of the caring free loving monkey king from before had been slow to come forward. Yes he was still a cheeky and conniving trickster. But the playful care ? The kind he would use to tease the children of the mountain into trying new things, or to encourage his generals into learning new maneuvers ? That came in rare flashes in the most secluded moments with Tripitaka, when his master was not breathing down his neck about the importance of every life.

The importance of every life is moot if your being picked out of some upstart demons teeth.

However… Haarini had woken something Wukong was not expecting to awake until he was home and back on his mountain. Care.

Wukong set the basket down in the dew speckled grass, humming as he leapt into the tree above. The cloud cover here was beautiful - frosted in the dying light of the sun and cold crisp scent of winter winds. Wukong was in a place that had longer winters and shorter summers, where the breath of winter was always a step from the door. But for right now the summer was warm enough to fight the chill winds.

Up among the twisting branches, blossoms and apples hung. The smell was soft and fragrant and numerous. The blossoms were small, delicate little things. Bees late to their hives still flitted over them. Wukong picked the best branches and gave them a fast snap. They came away like toothpicks, the blossoms hardly disturbed.

Wukong hoped down setting the branches in the top of the basket. His smile was soft. Warmth settled in his body as he placed the little cloth back over his findings. Then with a breath he spun away, up and over clouds in a somersault that sent him into the air and beyond.

Wukong was soon back at the monastery. The rooftile beneath his feet was still warm from the sun. Night had fallen fully, the blanket of stars in full display. Cicada’s and cricket song flooded the night. The monastery’s paper lanterns gave off a amber honey glow, the fluttering of moths casting large then life shadows across their surfaces.

Below the tiled roof came the comforting murmurs of conversation. Candlelight spilled from the latticed window below. Wukong could hear Bajie and Wujing arguing and the gentle tones of Haarini and Tripitaka in polite conversation. He pulled a bit of fur from his coat and blew, creating a woven basket. Wukong separated the fruits for his master and the little treats he had gathered for Haarini. There was a bit of honeycomb he had snatched, the apple blossom branches, the best Mangos and a few rich and juicy strawberries.

Once that was settled, Wuong felt his fur itch. The urge overcame him and he set to grooming- settling his orange and reddish fur back into place. Ears immaculate, clothes without a speck of dust, tail looking less poofy then before. Once his body stopped itching so terribly, Wukong rapped his knuckles against the latticework and gave a happy hoot. There was a silence then Haarini returned the greeting, musical voice answering his in greeting.

The frame was opened and Haarini stuck her head out, yellow eyes flashing in friendship.

“What are you doing out here? You can just come in.”

“I want to give you something.” Wukong waited eagerly at the edge of roof. He was leaning down looking at her, hands holding the tiles. Everything was cast in a sort of upside down view, the room beyond the window a mess of jumbled shapes. Except Haarini. The simians silvered fur was like a second moon in the light as she quirked a brow at him.

“And that cant be done inside?”

“Not with Bajie.” He peered a bit further and into the room. The third disciple was carrying on about his ex wife and how he was a great husband. Rubbish. He may have done the work of seven people and then some but he had kidnapped his wife first off. That was something no father in law would enjoy. Or mortal women.

“The pig will only ruin it!” Wukong decided to use his secret weapon- he pressed his face close to hers, blinking to make his eyes grow large. “Please Haarini it will be a good surprise.”

Haarini blinked then laughed, snorting in a way that set Wukongs spine to rippling in the most beautiful way. He loved seeing her delight. The Sage would become the greatest jester in all the heavens if he got to hear her soft laughter.

Wukong passed the basket through the window, the one containing the majority of the fruit “Here take the fruits to Shifu and then come back to the window.”

Haarini took the basket and disappeared from sight. With her gone the itching began again in Wukongs fur. He had to resist turning to it and grooming by biting a fang into his lip. It felt like ages bur it was merely moments before she reappeared. The silver monkey was back at the window looking up. Wukong offered her a hand and pulled her up.

He didn’t let go and neither did she. Haarini leaned in looking at the identical basket covered in cloth and back to his golden eyes. Wukong took that moment to try and regain some of his thoughts back. Her smell was in his nose, her hands were soft in his. The way the dim starlight caught in her fur and danced across it like an Arctic crest of permafrost… she was so beautiful.

He could get lost in those eyes… warm like nectar and soft in the light…

“You are eager to show me what you have.” She spun and now was holding both of his hands. She looked up at him, a smirk on her face. “It better not be a trick.”

“No trick. Just close your eyes.”

“Wukong if you put a frog on my head..”

“It was one time! One!”

“One too many!” Her laughter echoed again. Wukong felt his ears melt in the sound of it. He was egged on now, entranced and encouraged by her mirth. A bit of the old King slide out from that place beneath the mountain of memory. He laughed back, allowing that play to prance upon his soul.

“But the frog had the same color eyes as you- it was a comparison” He teased and clucked. The words had their desired effect.

“You cheeky furbag!” Haarini called, smacking his shoulder in mock battle. Wukong felt none of the slaps but felt the little free spark in his heart flair to a flame.

“I am no cheek!” Wukong said with all the mischief.

“You are full of yourself and you know it.” Haarini teased. “Is this why you didn’t want to go down with Bajie?”

“Bajie likes my good humour! He would laugh at my jokes all the time before you came along.” Wukong puffed. He crossed his legs and gently coaxed Haarini down beside him.

“Possibly because you threatened him with a smack between the eyes.” She gestured to his ear where he hid his staff and mimed pummelling someone on the head.

“All in jest. I promise!” He pressed a hand to his heart as she glared at him. He felt a prickle of worry, just a smidge, as he motioned again.

“No frogs just close your eyes. Please?” Baby eyes engaged once more, trying to coax her not to be suspicious.

Haarini reached up and tugged on his ear in play.

“Alright. But if what you give me moves, I will shove it down into your gullet.”

“I dont doubt that.”

He waited until she had closed her eyes. He tested it by waving first his hand then his tail in front of her nose. Her face remained impassive, calm. The Sage had to shake himself bodily to get moving. She just was so pretty in the starlight — it should be criminal to shine without stars.

Wukong turned back to the basket and set to work. He quickly took the branches and easily wove them together. He only lost a few petals from the precious flowers. The scent smelled wonderful, crisp and clear. Wukong felt his tail twitching in excited flutters. He almsot giggled and ruined the surprise. Then Wukong turned and, with delicate care, set the crown of branches and blossoms onto her brow.

“Wukong wha—“ she was a bit startled, opening an eye as the cheeky King sprinkled the last of the apple blossom petals onto her.

“Behold! The flower Queen!” Wukong gave a regal bow, hands swooping back and out as his forehead practically kissed the tiled roof. “All hail the queen of spring!”

“You made me a crown out of blossoms?” Haarini gently ran a hand up and over the little branches that Wukong had woven together. The pale pinkish white petals gave off the softest smell and made her fur look lustrous.

“I couldn’t get you a bouquet.” Wukong chuffed smugly - and with a little bit of mirth. “Those are in the cities and the last time i got you one you nearly bit my fingers.”

“Wukong,” Haarini reproached, “You didn’t get me them-you stole them.”

“I acquisitioned them!”

“You stole them!”

Wukong smirked down on her. And unfurled his hand.

He dropped more petals onto her upturned face. The petals brushed over her nose and lips and Haarini breathed in the pollen.

This elicited the cutest sneeze The Great Sage Equal To Heaven had ever heard. Wukongs eyes blew out as she rubbed at her nose. “Oh my…”

Of course poor Haarini was unaware of the fawning King. She simply rubbed at her snout, trying to gain some composure. The petals had spread their pollen right into her face and nose, setting her to a few more sneezing fits.

A few more adorable honks that had Wukong all but fallen into himself in the urge not to suddenly grab her. It was just so … cute!

Haarini grumbled about the unfair advantages he had, specifically the one where she had no petals to throw at his smirking face when she had been right in the argument all along.

“Wukong my nose is streaming do you have a—“ her eyes had cleared enough to notice how close Wukong had gotten. He was less then a handspan away. He was laying on his belly, feet kicked up over his back, tail curled in a crescent.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Cute.” Wukongs head rested on his two hands as he peered up at her.

“What?” Haarini felt her ears beginning to burn, her fur itching all over as this monkey looked at her like she was the moon and stars and heaven come all to earth. Her heart gave a leap and her emotions were off and running. She had never had anyone admire her like that- had never had someone jest and play and look with such golden eyes into her face …

“Super cuuuute!” Wukong called again, reaching out to tap her now blushing face with the pad of a thumb. Haarini felt steam leave her ears and her fur curl. That heartbeat earlier ? It was racing- galloping- full sprinting like an Arabian horse over the desert dunes.

Seeing him looking at me like that …. I want to —

“Stop it, it was a sneeze!” She slapped at his face, feeling the thoughts of her heart beginning to overwhelm her. Haarini had had bachelors court her. She had had bachelorettes try and weave flowers into her fur. None had ever tempted her eye or caught her heart. There had been handsome ones, kind ones, ambitious ones. As the next matriarch of her troop, Haarini had felt a pressure to perform- to love and to tryst as her mother wanted and secure a successor to the bloodline.

Love had not come into the equation of it.

She had never expected to find it here, leagues away from everything she knew and loved, in the form of a monkey whos eyes glowed like the desert sun, whos laugh made her bones shake in pleasure and whos hands held the gentleset touches. A warrior such as he touched with the softness of day blending to twilight. Subtle and gentle.

Like he was now against her face, holding her in his palm and she, leaning in like she belonged there.

“The most adorable sneeze ever!” Wukong chortled as Haarini regained her independence from her lovesick heart and growled. She gathered some of the fallen petals up.

“Lets see how you like petals in your face!” Haarini pressed them into Wukongs face just as the simian had opened his mouth. The poor King was set on a fit of coughing and sneezing that had Haarini in stitches- but also rubbing his back and apologizing. Wukong returned the favour however as he grabbed her and tugged her back down and into him.

Haarini valiantly struggled under the wrestling. It was like fighting to pin and flip a mountain. She could try all she wanted but each time she got some headway over the King he would simply topped her back onto him. Then under him.

They both lay on the tile for a moment, Haarini catching her breath as she laughed and Wukong hardly breathing as he stared down at her. She was flushed a darker shade- from exertion or laughter he could not tell- and it added a undertone that had him staring into her.

Each time I look at her its like seeing her for the first time. My mind just cant give her an accurate shape.

Maybe one day I can ask an artist to paint her portrait. I never want to forget her smile.

Wukong flopped onto his side beside Haarini, fingering a bit of her crown.

“You are so cute covered in flowers.”

“Shut up-“ her breathes came out a bit faster but with no serious reprimand in them. Wukong felt a bit of a thrill. He had won. “I hope you have more then flowers for me.”

“Of course.”

Under the starlight, in the casting of apple blossoms and the smell of ripe mango and strawberries, the two sat. Enjoying each others company long into the night- past when the cicadas stopped their singing, past when the sky began to grow warm like milk tea in the turning of the day. Haarini talked and teased to Wukong and Wukong listened and teased back. They didn’t realize they were leaning into and upon each other, tails curled and wrapped like vines. When eventually Haarini fell asleep, it was Wukong who curled about her. He grew in size just enough to shelter her from whatever wind came upon them. He slept light, the seeping warmth from the roof tiles lending a heat to wherever they pressed into. Bellies full of fruit and hearts full of one another, the bight passed in peaceful companionship.

A companionship blossoming into the petals of love.

#hcwrites #hcfanfics #writing stuff #a journey to the au fanfi #for journey to the au #HERE SHE IS #A BEHEMOTH #4k words i beleive #it is always the dialouge that makes it longer hehehe but i love this slice of love #YES I KNOW APPLE BLOSSOMS COME IN MANY SIZES.#but also some smell nice and i imagine Haarini in soft little white pedals #jttw au #sun wukong #what if au #haarini #jttw sun wukong #zhu bajie #tripataka #i like to think of Ba Longma as the second apprentice personally #I MEAN HE WAS HERE BEFORE PIGSY SO THAT TECHNIQULLY MEANS HES THE SECOND APPRENTICE #jttw fanfic #I HOPE I CAPTURED THE BABIES WELL #WEEEE #SOME FLUFF TO CHASE DOWN THAT BEAUTIFUL SORROW FLUFF GAVE US YESTERDAY MY GOD #THAT SHIT IS STILL LIVING IN MY HEAD RENT FREE #jttw tag #jttw fanfiction #I LOVE WRITING FLUFF OK #FLUFF MAKES ME SAPPY #I kept seeing that scene from walle when they hold hands with the music going in the background

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veryace-ficrecs · 8 months

Note

overwatch. cass/hanzo, genji + zen (found family + like adoptive father zen shit is goooooood for my soul), moira/mercy (especially when they actually hate each other), brothers zen + ramatra (but cute when they were at the monastery stuff (or angst ur choice lol)), hog/rat, junker queen being bby girl, mei being competent, anything else u think i would like lol. anything and everything plz

I'll do my best!! o(*￣▽￣*)ブ

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On Losing a Reputation by CyborgShepard - Rated E

Everything in Moira’s life has a place, and she makes sure that in order to keep herself sane the facets of her life don’t bleed into one another. But she’s here, at her best friend’s boozy house party, with the suddenly not-so-taboo person that Moira’s entire life seems to circumnavigate.

Third Kind by Flosscandies - Rated E

Angela and Moira have met many different times, but one of their meetings changed their views on each other.

To be at odds by CountDraluka - Rated T

Angela has her first kiss at the age of 23.

Silver Suits The Devil by CountDraluka - Rated M

“To be burdened with a love spell… I wouldn’t wish that upon my worst enemy, sorceress. But I’m not a miracle worker, or a charitable person, nor do I attempt to be either”, she says, and her words come out kinder than intended. She tells herself it is to soften the disappointment. Perhaps there is a part deep inside her, a part chained to dungeon walls along the row of all her repressed urges and desires, that is relieved to be finally accused of all the crimes she worked so hard to commit. Witch of the Wilds - the title suits her.

Heart of Oasis by Ludlovescake - Rated T

"That’s how she found herself in Oasis, that’s why she was at the conference and that was why she was now looking into the eyes of a woman she had thought she might never meet again. Moira O’Deorain. " Angela is attending a medical conference in Oasis and runs into an old rival. Talon interrupts.

Epistolary by anna_thema - Not Rated

After everything that went wrong with Overwatch, Moira and Angela are drawn together across the world.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Junkrat/Roadhog

Gaining Experience by ArmsShanks - Rated T

Jamieson Fawkes doesn't have a whole lot going on. He decides to play a video game. Maybe he'll make a friend. Or something like that.

Cumulative by FormlessVoidbeast - Rated M

For the first few days, Roadhog enjoyed the increasing quiet from Junkrat. The loss of energy, of appetite, the way Junkrat's patchy hair was falling out in chunks - it all should have clued Roadhog in. He should have realized sooner that something was very wrong.

A Phantom Pain in the Ass by PomegranatePomsom - Rated T

Junkrat gets some pains. Junkrat gets some help.

Just Trust In Me by Krasimer - Rated T

Mako kept his eyes closed, his arms propped up on the sides of the tub as he allowed his body to relax in the water. From Junkrat, he could hear a small splashing noise as the man tested the water with a few of his fingers, probably flicking them through the surface quickly. When he felt the surface ripple, he smirked. "If you're going to get in, you need to remove your prosthetics." The pause made the air itself go still as Junkrat considered it.

Burning The Wick At Both Ends by PrettyQueerDear - Rated T

Roadhog needed to look tough not just for his reputation, but for his partner's safety. That was hard to do when Junkrat kept trying to make him laugh and show his soft side. Or the one where everyone asks "Why hasn't Roadhog killed Junkrat?" because they can't see that the trash boys are in love.

In Which Junkrat Fucks up his Prosthetic for the Hundredth Time by Hirose - Rated T

…and Roadhog carries him home.

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Junkerqueen-Centric

Wrecking Ball's Reckoning by TrashFr0g - Rated T

The Queen of Junkertown is tasked with dealing with a rat. A 'big' rat. It puts up a better fight than she thought it would.

And the Queen That Was One by TrashFr0g - Rated G

Junkertown had no stars in it's sky, but that didn't mean it couldn't have any inside it.

Are You Smarter Than a Hamster? by TrashFr0g - Rated G

The Queen of Junkertown was unlike any other human Hammond knew before. She was a fighter, strong, tough, and fierce… and she wasn't smart. For some reason that detail seemed to bother him more than it bothered her.

#veryace asks #overwatch #overwatch 2 #ow #cole cassidy #hanzo shimada #genji shimada #zenyatta #roadhog #mako rutledge #junkrat #jamison fawkes #junker queen #wrecking ball #hammond #ao3 fic recs #fanfic recs #ao3

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thefanciestborrower · 1 year

Note

if you’re still wanting some n.injago stuff I wanna know what you think everyone in the main group tastes like. I think jay tastes like blue raspberry. Kai tastes like spicy noodles or salsa. Cole probably tastes like a very earthy yet protein heavy salad. Zane tasted like metal but with an undertone of vanilla icecream. Maybe nia tastes like some crazy dish you wouldn’t expect to work so well. Woo tastes like a fine wine/cheese. Etc.

Oooh, that’s an interesting question, and I really like your headcannons! Personally I see Jay tasting like blue cotton candy, Kai as a spiced cinnamon tea with maybe a little bit of orange in there, Cole is a earthy dark chocolate, Zane is absolutely metallic with the faintest hint of vanilla, Nya is more of a curry, and Wu is Baihao Yinzhen or ‘Silver Needle’ white tea (which is delicious).

As for any other characters, I see Lloyd as maybe a sweet milky matcha candy or maybe even Kabusecha green tea, Borg as tasting kind of like Japanese clear soup (a personal fave of mine), Garm.adon strikes me as maybe a Yunnan black tea, Pixal might be a kind of lavender strawberry with more of a rubbery as opposed to metallic taste, and Mis.ako could be pho with very heavy mint.

I’m not 100% on all of these, but you get the general idea lol

#getting to show off my tea knowledge haha #picked a lot of tea but that's just cause the fsm family has those vibes #Lloyd is very sweet tho that's a rule #soft vore #safe vore #fandom vore #vore mention #ask #anon ask #n.injago vore #I think everyone needs to try pho and clear soup at least once in their lives please and thank you

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true-blue-sonic · 1 year

Note

Any thoughts on what would happen if Silver and Espio were both sick at the same time and the rest of the Chaotix had to be the ones to try and help them? (I am still sick I need to project my pain)

Okay, no, I honestly think that if both Silver and Espio are ill simultaneously, they're gonna do nothing but needle each other by accident. They're both already in a foul mood then, and they can't care for the other properly, and I figure they also just have very different ways of being ill. Espio might prefer just laying there pretending he is dead for three days straight, whereas Silver wants to go out and do things and act like everything is well while hacking his lungs out and barely being able to walk from the fever. And that is... not a good combi😅 They're might just get into more petty arguments than they have in their whole relationship during that week alone👀

As for Vector and Charmy, I figure the two of them do really want to help, but they also know better than to throw themselves into the thundercloud that holds one bedroom in its grasp (because of course Silver and Espio do want to stay together even if it makes them both mad, haha). And thus Es and Silv are mostly left to their own devices, for better or for worse. At least Vector knows how to make chicken noodle soup and prepare tea! And the work around the house gets kept up decently enough for a change too. Once Silver and Espio get better, I figure they do make up immediately again, though. They know the other means well, and that being ill and grumpy is a recipe for relationship disaster. And they're not actually mad at each other, because such a thing rarely happens. But Vector and Charmy are beyond relieved they're better and happy again! They mean well also, but playing nurse for two incredibly stubborn people with strong opinions to boot does not seem like something they'd be particularly good at.

#Vector seems like the type who is able to make a can of chicken noodle soup be barely edible tbh #like... you can put it in your mouth but don't expect much enjoyment out of it #and of course then Silver wants to go and do it himself for Espio and Espio tells him to stay in bed and there come the bickers #gold the tenrec #espilver #silver the hedgehog #espio the chameleon #vector the crocodile #charmy bee

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tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors · 1 year

Note

Just woke up and crying over the babys, can we get a description of how they look for art related reasons?

Collie

noodle baby

long limbs and fingers, skinny, looks a bit stretched

very pale green skin, white hair in little wavy-ringlets (think what happens to hair after you have it in a bun a long time) just past her shoulders, silver eyes, very pointy and long ears

grows occasional mistletoe branches in faer hair when extremely happy

Mimi

Chubby little bowling ball baby

shorter than his sisser but stronger (got a climber on their hands)

skin is a darker green than collie or remus, his hair is very dark green (same shade as Io's) and short, stiff, and bristly, almost like halfway between boar hair and evergreen leaves. it doesnt get much longer than pine needles no matter how long lu grows it out. his eyes are Remus's (and Roman's) green. yes the evergreen green man is green all over. i think im very funny

#ask #Anonymous #love and other fairytales ask #laoft mimi #laoft collie

37 notes · View notes

artsupplies-battle · 1 year

Text

Art supplies battle

blood of my enemies VS synthetic voice bank

Glitter gel pen VS mayonnaise

Glass dip pen VS shitty cheap half empty pen

Graphite pencil VS Ribbon tool

Highlighters VS acrylic paints

Camera VS tones

Ballpoint pen VS vocoloid

Kneadable graphite VS watercolor pencil

Charcoal VS paper

Silver wire VS the shitty dried out markers from the artist briefcase

Digital pen VS the kickers brush they made

Nail art brushes VS hair

Glue dibber VS bleach

Blend tool VS found objects

Kneadble eraser VS harmonica

Yarn VS the sharpener on the back of a Crayola crayons 64 box

Water colors VS mouse (computer)

A cats little foot VS knife

Dirt VS Bobby pin

Rocks VS bow rosin

Photoshop VS Bic Atlantis ball point pen

Sketchbook VS knitting needles

Crochet hooks VS cintiq

Oil pastels VS washi tape

Bic mechanical pencil VS uv resin

Crayons VS disk (like a CD)

Sumi brush VS scanner

Ukulele VS rubber (condom)

Bass guitar VS roofei art kit

Waterproof pens VS Wacom drawing tablet

Fluffy watercolor VS gumi

Charcoal VS gold leaf

The notes app VS pencil (not specific)

Fingers VS toothpick

Tipex VS big tubs of paint

That dry pen you have VS processing

Saliva VS melted chocolate ice cream

Sugar VS prismacolor alcohol based markers

Money VS electric guitar

Rubber (eraser) VS kum pencil sharpener

Hatsune miku VS epoxy resin

India ink VS Copic markers

Tattoo machine+ tattoo ink VS MS paint

Lead pencil VS printmaking ink

Needle threader VS flip a clip

Curved needle VS vantablack

Sewing machine VS artists loft dual tip

Blue print VS my tears

Glitter glue VS beads

Ruler VS origami paper/ patterned paper

Prismacolor pencils VS sculpey

Macaroni noodles VS Mr. Super clear matte

Brain VS blood

Sharpie VS bark (wood kind)

Utau/ open utau VS the good pen ™️

Fake blood VS clay

Wooden human model VS fire

Icing bag VS clip studio paint

Posca pens VS cable needle

Fishing line VS ctrl +z

Rattlesnake VS human

ASCII VS 5$ crappy sketchbook

#I DID IT #YES #thanks to bo burnham for getting me through this #art supplies battle

24 notes · View notes

the-real-things-tournament · 1 year

Text

0.5mm Pencil Lead

2002 Honda Civic

320 Pack Glitter Gel Pens

A Blunt

A Candle That Smells Like Fragrant Evergreens

A Copy of "The Book Thief" (2005) by Markus Zusak

A Daisychain

A DVD Copy of Over the Hedge (2006)

A Train

Ace of Spades Playing Card

Adderall

Adipose Plushie

Adorable Cow Creamer

Airpods

An Innumerable Amount of Lost DS Styli

Animal Shaped Rubber Bands

AP French Exam Packet

Argon (The Element)

Aviator Goggles

Baguette Body Pillow

Battery

Bead Maze

Beaded Curtain

Beanbag Chair

Bed

Beehive

Best Rock

Big Drinking Fountain

Black Out Curtains

Blanket

Blue Jeans

Blåhaj/Ikea Shark

Bread

Bright Orange VHS for the Rugrats Movie

Broken Alarm Clock

Bubble Toy

Bucket

Bur Oak Tree

Buttons (for clothes)

Can of Beans

Cast Iron Pan

Cat Collar With Bell

Chalk Boards

Cheese Grater

Chew Necklace

Chicxulub Impactor

Claw Hairclip

Clip-On Earrings

Clock

Coconut Broom

Colored Fairy Lights

Comically Oversized Lollypop

Construction Cone

Contraception

Crane Machine

Crayons

Dead Baby Possum Killed by Chihuahua (RIP)

Digivice V-pet

Dildo

Dirigible

Dirty Glass Bottle You Find In The Woods

Disinfecting Wipes

Dice

Dragon Ball Z Volume 4 (Manga Paperback)

Drinking Bird Desk Toy

Earth

Egg Slicer

Elementary School Yearbook

Empty Pizza Box

Every Basket

Every Knife

Eye Mug From a School Ceramics Sale

Fake Dictionary Lockbox

Fancy Showerhead

Fantasia 2000 VHS Tape

Fencing Mask

Ferrofluid

Finger Cymbals

Finger Cymbols

Fingerless Gloves (made of wool)

Flower Bush By The Pavement On The Street

Four Seasons Puzzle

Froggy Chair

Furby

Garden Gloves With Claws

Garlic

Gendang

Generic Paw Of A Monkey

Geode

Glow in the Dark Celing Stars

Glow Stick Liquid

"god i wish that were me" Screenshot

Golden Acorn Statue

Googly Eyes

Guitar

Half An Onion

Halloween Skeleton Decoration

Hand Mixer From The '60s

Haunted Callie Calamari Doll That Drinks All Your Pepsi and Calls You a Bitch

Heart-Shaped Glasses

Holly the Dragon Beanie Boo

Homemade Hand Sanitizer

Hurdy Gurdy

Ice Cube

Ice Maker

Japanese 5 Yen Coin

Kids Watercolor Set

Kitchen Sink

Knockoff Garfield Plush

Knäckebröd

La Croix Sparkling Water Pamplemousse

Late Night Infomercials

Lavender Scented Candle

LEGO Spring 2007 Catalog

Lightning McQueen Crocs

Lindt Gold Bunny

Lint Roller

Lip Smackers Watermelon Chapstick

LNER Peppercorn Class A1 60163 Tornado

Lobster Ornament

Loch and Nessie, the Loch Ness Monster Ladles (one solid, one with strainer holes)

Loofah

Lun-Class Ekranoplan

Mammatus Cloud

Manatea Tea Infuser

Meat Cleaver

Meat Tenderizer

Mechanical Pencil

Microscope

Microwave

Mini Cuban Flag on Plant

Mini Fan

Monopoly Dog Piece

Mop

NA Mazda Miata (Specifically With Googly Eyes)

Native American Fire Opal Blade

Nebula

Nokia Phone 3310 (2000)

Occlupanids

Old Faithful

One Crouton

One Flavor Blasted Cheddar Goldfish

Onion Chopper/Mini Food Processer

Opalized Fossil

Oumuamua

Our Sun

Paint Tube

Palm Leaf Rose

Paper Crown

Paper Leaves

Paracetamol Tablet

Pencil

Pizza

Plastic Lightsaber

Plastic Play Food Set

Polly Pocket Website (circa 2005)

Popstar Microphone

Potato

"Previously on X-Men" (YouTube Video)

Rainbow Desk Lamp Christmas Gifted By Aunt

Rainbow Pride Flag

Red Bouncy Ball

Rice

Rocking Horse

Roller Skates

Rounde (Sheep Plush Adored by Friend Group)

Rubik's Cube

Russian Nesting Doll

Salt and Vinegar Chips

Sand-Filled Frog Toy Named Floppy

School Chair Attached To Desk

Screwdriver

Seattle Space Needle

Seki Edge Nail Clippers

Sewing Pin

Sharpie

Shoe Insoles

Shoelaces (From The President)

Silver Hoop Earrings

Simply Southern T-Shirt

Single Macaroni Noodle

Siren Percussion Instrument

Slap Bracelets

Sliced Bread

Slinky

Slip N' Slide

Slotted Spoon

Snowman Headband

Solar Eclipse Sunglasses

Soviet-Era Apartment Complex

Spamton Plush

Sparkly DND Dice That Look Like They Should Be Edible But Aren't

Spoon

Squirmles

Squishmallows

Squishy Water Tube Toy

Stained Glass

Stand-Up Bass

Starbucks Coffee Cup

Steel/Metal Pipe

Stick (From the Ground)

Stop Sign

Stuffed Animals

Styrofoam

Subway Employee Hat

Swiffer

Tamagotchi

The Bible

The Demon Core

The Entirely Of Wikipedia Printed Out

The Giant Canadian Rubber Duck

The International Space Station

The Internet

The Kaaba

The Milky Way

The Mona Lisa

The Moon

The Spinx

The Statue Of The Shoe That Almost Hit George Bush

The Tiny Jack Hiding In The Wall Of My Trunk For When I Have A Flat Tire

The Transistor

The Voynich Manuscript

The Wheel

The World Trade Center (WTC)

The Zener Diode

Theremin

TI-84 Graphing Calculator

Tofu

Tom Scott's Best Thing Survey

Torn Apart Skunk Dog Toy

Trans Flag

Tumblr Anon Hatemail

Tungsten Cube

Two Paper Cockatiels On A Wire Stand On My Desk

Umbrella Hat

Unicorn Pillow Pet

Vicks Vaprorub

Vincent Van Gogh's Sunflowers Painting

Vintage Railway Poster

Walkable City

Water

Water Bottle

Water Snake Wiggler

White Boards

White Out

Wind Chime

Wings of Fire Slightly Used Coloring Book

Wireless Headphones

Working McDonalds Ice Cream Machine

www.hasthelargehadroncolliderdestroyedtheworldyet.com

Xbox 360

Yoga Ball

Yu-Gi-Oh Cards

Zipper

Ōdachi

#info stuff #prep stuff #the real things tournament

9 notes · View notes

ladiegreyart · 2 years

Text

Jasmine Silver Needle 🍵

Silver Needle is a white tea bud, light to medium body, but can have a wide variety of subtler notes! I especially like it with jasmine.

This is a series idea I've had noodling around in my brain for a while. I was apprehensive at first (still am tbh) because... well, tea has been appropriated for centuries in all sorts of ways. I just want to say this idea is out of love of tea and is just for fun- I'm not focusing on the individual regions or the history of these teas (frankly I do not know nearly enough to do something super accurately justice), but rather the color palettes and flavors of these combinations and making girls/outfits based around those, of all varying backgrounds and styles. I just want to be transparent as I am by no means a tea expert, and I hope that's alright.

I'm also putting this little disclaimer here on tumblr because it's the only platform with enough characters that isn't hidden behind three dots that no one even clicks through.

// my linktree //

#artists on tumblr #character art #digital art #digital illustration #pinup art #original character #tea girl series

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fattributes · 4 years

Photo

Stir Fried Silver Needle Noodles

#food #recipe #dinner #noodles #silver needle noodles #stir fry #carrots #sriracha #vegetarian #vegan #chinese

60 notes · View notes

wolfpants · 2 years

Text

tag game for every day of the week

I've been tagged in a few of these now and they all have slightly different but also some of the same questions! So I'm doing this one and I hope I've covered everything you want to know about lil old me. Thank you @academicdisasterfic @lqtraintracks @shealynn88 🖤

relationship status: platonically partnered but romantically unattached? I guess that's how I'd describe it? Also, ENM

favourite food: any dish that involves udon noodles, fried chicken and the hottest sauce I can handle, ice cream, eggs, brunost, stinky blue cheese, crusty bread, pears, rhubarb crumble and custard

favourite colour: sage green

song stuck in your head: here to stay by korn because I prank texted my friend saying it was the quintessential nu metal song and I think he might have blocked me

last thing you googled: "films about isolation", you know, hot boi shit

time: 19:38

dream trip: joshua tree/salvation mountain, chile, austin, iceland, finland, also middle earth

last book you read/enjoyed: the last book that blew me away, truly, was swimming in the dark. incredible read

last book you hated reading: normal people. I'm sorry!!

favourite thing to cook/bake: lentil and mushroom spag bol, banana bread, garlic and chilli noodles

favourite craft: I used to be a keen knitter but I haven't picked up my needles in over a year! I'd say writing, though, for sure.

most niche dislikes: tea that isn't milky enough, tea that isn't Yorkshire Tea, not being able to give myself at least 30 minutes of time to be early to something, airports, falling asleep anywhere other than a bed, a heavy duvet, grey/silver interiors, wearing baggy sleeves

opinion on circuses: not a fan of anything that involves forced participation

do you have a sense of direction and if not what's the worst way you've gotten lost? no sense of direction at all. I get lost everywhere I go

last song you listened to: resurrections by lena raine

last show you watched: stranger things

currently watching: WELL from tomorrow I will be watching house of the dragon

currently reading: heartstopper

current obsessions: putting on my sherlock hat and trying to figure out where past wolf put their nintendo switch charger to keep it safe, making @academicdisasterfic fall in love with lotr, trying to find the perfect corduroy shirt, my upcoming trip to portland, my upcoming trip to the mountains in norway for some r&r, writing always writing, my newly bleached hair, my cattle skull earrings, autumn's approach

anyone who sees this, please consider yourself loved and tagged

#tag game #personal

14 notes · View notes

skellebonez · 3 years

Note

32. Are you aware of how much money you spent? Tang and Pigsy

go wild god of fanfic prompts, go wild

I WOULDN'T GO THAT FAR ANON JDFKLSJFAS But that's very sweet of you to say! And I couldn't pass up a great chance to write these two as the old (but not that old) married couple I know them to be in my heart. I tried something a little experimental, this isn't exactly how I would normally write them but I had a little idea and wanted to see what I could do with it.

Are you aware of how much money you spent?

Tang loved Pigsy. And he wasn't afraid of who knew that fact.

"You sure you wanna come with me to the market after... you know,” Pigsy said with a shrug as he rubbed his neck awkwardly.

Tang knew. He remembered the events of quite a few months ago very well. Over half a year if he remembered correctly. It was the last time he had gone with the chef to purchase his ingredients at the market, not wanting to go anywhere close to what was likely still far too close to the lair of the Spider Queen.

Especially not after their later encounters on the new year and the following weeks.

“I’m sure.”

It wasn’t as if they didn’t spend pretty much all their time together anyway. Tang had work, of course he did, and he wasn’t always in the shop 24/7. But whenever he could take his work on the go or take a break or just have the day off he would be by the chef’s side. He always had been for as long as he could remember since their first meeting in college.

At first it was simply from a sense of loyalty to an old friend. He’d kept in touch with Pigsy since they had graduated together, went to the restaurant from day one since it opened, and went back almost every day since then.

And then... he’d lost his apartment, an accidental electrical fire no one could have prevented and he had been glad no one was hurt, and Pigsy had just offered him his spare room like it was nothing.

Tang could have possibly stayed in a hotel until he was able to find another apartment, at least for a while. But not forever. Not the way people who knew who he really was thought he could.

Once someone learned you were the descendant of a long distant cousin of the Tang Sanzang they had a tendency to assume and want things from you after all.

He wasn't in any way rich, far from it. But people thought he was the second they learned he was related to Tang Sanzang and he was just well off enough for people to assume they were right. Just enough for people to expect more from him than he could really give. And he gave all the same, scared to disappoint. Scared to be left alone. Scared to be alone.

Not Pigsy, though. He didn't tell the chef for a long while before moving in and not for quite some time after, guilt from not revealing who he was making Tang leave him far more money than would be his reasonable share of the rent despite the fact he didn't really have it to spare, and the charade would only last as long as Pigsy was willing to ignore that.

It took 1 month and 28 bowls of noodles that Tang vastly overpaid for before Pigsy dropped an overstuffed envelope with all the excess money (which was really nearly all the money he could spare) he had given the chef right into his lap while he was attempting to study a book on their now shared couch.

Pigsy barely got out his question of "why?" before Tang buckled under the pressure and revealed everything.

His heritage.

His past with others.

His feelings.

That last one had been an accident. Truly it had. He'd never planned on telling Pigsy that he had developed a crush on him ever since he had asked him to taste test some of the recipes for his shop. That he kept going to the shop not because the food was amazing (even though it absolutely was, the best he'd ever had and he was certain ever would have) but because he just wanted to see Pigsy more. That the day he'd asked Tang to move into his spare room in his own apartment his heart had skipped a beat and he wondered if there was a deity out there both enjoying the idea of giving him everything he wanted on a silver platter while also reveling in the idea of it being snatched away in an instant because he was certain Pigsy had never liked him back.

Well. Was certain.

Until Pigsy stared at him for a few second too long before a lopsided grin spread on his face and he ignored every single other part of his confession to ask "you had a crush on me too?"

It had taken a minute or two for them to realize they were both hopeless idiots who had been mutually pining for each other the entire time.

They felt pretty silly after that, having lived together for a month when they probably could have been doing so long before.

"You don't have to keep givin me all this, you know," Pigsy said firmly once everything was out in the open, gesturing to the envelope that Tang now held in his hands.

"I know," Tang admitted, worrying his fingers over the edges. "It's just... everyone else always wanted more from me and... I was scared, I guess..."

"I'm not everyone else." Pigsy gently took hold of Tang's hand, giving it a careful squeeze. "I don't care who your great uncle or cousin or whoever was. I mean, I do, cause they're your family!" The chef corrected himself, flushing a deep crimson in embarrassment. "But you could be related to nobodies or a king and that wouldn't make you less you to me. I like you for you! I... am I makin any sense? I didn't go to college to sound nice, I went for business stuff!"

Laughter bubbled up from somewhere in Tang's chest, making him squeeze the chef's hand back.

"You are," he said, feeling a lightness inside him that he didn't realize he hadn't felt in a long time. "I get it. I like you for you too, Pigsy."

"Good," the chef said, a chuckle of his own resounding in unison. "Good..."

The two sat for a moment longer, staring at each other before Tang started to lean forward. Pigsy followed, just as he had with the laughter.

It didn't take long for noses to bump each other awkwardly and for the two of them to burst into cackles as they realized they would need to remember to turn their heads before they kissed.

And then they shared their first.

They'd been together for years after that. Scholar and chef, old college buddies now roommates turned boyfriends and then later husbands. Most people didn't even know they were married at all, "if they couldn't see it when it was right in front of their faces why explain it" was Tang and Pigsy's mutual reasoning. And for those that did know, some people didn't really understand their relationship. Not with how they carried on with the whole "freeloader" thing.

But that was because of one of Pigsy's only requests when they started dating.

"Don't feel like you gotta pay me for anything, ok? I don't know what other people have said to you, but you don't gotta do that with me."

Tang liked to take that a little far, admittedly, for the fun of it with the noodle orders at the shop. He couldn't help it, he loved everything about Pigsy! His smile, how much he cared behind his gruff exterior, his cooking (obviously), and how cute he was when he would let out that exasperated sigh at the end of the month and just look at Tang's tab as he took out whatever was extra in his half of the month's rent to pay for all but a few yuan of it and just change into that soft smile all over again.

The tab was real, but Tang always paid it at the end of the month. Even if Pigsy always insisted behind the scenes that he didn't have to. He could just stop giving Pigsy the extra cash and they'd wash their hands of the tab and the freeloading completely if he wanted to.

But Tang liked teasing his husband too much and Pigsy was happy as long as Tang was alright with that.

Something in the back of Tang's mind wondered if he was still just scared though, despite everything. As if the ideas of his youth were too deep seated to really go away, intrusive thoughts needling into his brain in a way that would need something even more life altering than he already gone through to get them to leave, and he kept the tab and the teasing around just for some extra security so he would know he'd get to see Pigsy's exasperated smile and hear him say he could stop again. He was certain he was just overthinking things, something he did more often than he would like to admit.

Of course... that was until Spider Queen.

It hadn't been a good morning already, the selection at the market had been poor and Tang was tired from a long work week. Pigsy had been determined to find the right ingredients for... something that, frankly, Tang couldn't remember after all these months. What he did remember was the way the Spider Queen drew Pigsy in, despite his sniping at him while they were tied up he knew that the chef really was only after actual vegetable, and being in that lair.

It was awful.

They hadn't been down there long, but it was long enough for Tang to suggest Pigsy stay away from the market entirely and order his food via online delivery. Pigsy thought he'd been jealous at first, until he realized that Tang was just... scared. Scared of Pigsy getting hurt, scared of losing him. Just scared.

Until MK had shown up there really was no telling if they would have made it out. And that scared Tang. A lot.

Pigsy didn't stop going to the market entirely, but for Tang's peace of mind he bought most of his food via delivery like he suggested and took MK with him every time instead. Tang refused to go back, not when he knew how close that stand was.

And then the Lunar New Year happened and Tang no longer really felt safe anywhere.

Oh he acted like everything was fine alright, but he knew Pigsy could tell how defeated he was in knowing that Spider Queen and her crew could just show up anywhere at any time now. It left him tired, having trouble sleeping, and just emotionally exhausted.

Until this morning. When he woke up before Pigsy and got dressed and ready to go and suggested they go to the market together.

He was tired. Too tired.

Tired of letting himself be afraid. Of Spider Queen. Of the market. Of his old intrusive thoughts.

After all he had used a giant gun sword on that one spider guy with the pony tail who insisted on teasing Pigsy for some reason. And went through whatever happened with that weird shadow puppet guy. Why be afraid anymore after all that weirdness?

So at the market they were, looking over the selection of ingredients together for the first time in months almost as if nothing had happened. No one would have been able to tell except for the way Pigsy kept looking over at Tang to make sure he was alright.

Tang loved that about Pigsy too.

“Tang you don’t have t-”

“I want to,” the scholar said firmly, handing his card to the merchant they had stopped at over Pigsy’s head before the other even had a chance to argue further.

“Tang!” Pigsy yelped as his card was handed back, gesturing to the bag of food he was being handed shortly after. “Are you aware of how much money you spent? That stuff’s expensive!”

“I know,” Tang said nonchalantly, smiling softly as he turned to head to the next stall. “I told you, I wanted to buy them.”

“But why?” Pigsy insisted, looking a bit lost at having to be the one to follow someone else through the market for once. “You know I’d never make you pay for anything... well, heh, except your tab that you insist on keeping open.”

“About that" Tang said, smiling softly as he turned back to the man he loved for so long. "I don't think we need to keep that open anymore."

Pigsy froze, staring at Tang in confusion for a moment before his eyes widened as he realized what he'd just said. He blinked, looking at the bag of ingredients, thinking about the amount of yuan Tang had spent before he finally caught on to what the scholar had so sneakily done.

The exact amount down to the last little bit.

Paid in full.

"You're serious," The chef said as he took in Tang's expression carefully, reaching out to grab his free hand softly and squeeze. "What brought this on?"

"Just thought it was time to let go of old fears," Tang answered with a shrug, and he barely had time to react before Pigsy tugged him forward with a tilt of his head and pressed their lips together.

Tang didn't keep count of how many times they kissed over the years, who would after so long, but he was sure he'd remember this one as vividly as the first.

"Let's get back," Pigsy said after he pulled back, smiling warm and bright and just looking the way being home felt. "MK's probably waiting to get that out of the city training started and we don't wanna keep them all waiting."

He loved Pigsy.

And the one thing he was never ever afraid of was who knew that.

#monkie kid #lego monkie kid #freenoodleshipping #prompt fill #ship fic #tang #pigsy #i attempted some symbolism and metaphors i never tried before because of the prompt itself and i am not sure if they came across right #but i made an attempt #given what episode this is set right before OOF #i'm really not entirely sure i like this but i wrote it and didn't want to start over so EH... there are parts i do really like so

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madhyanas · 4 years

Text

a place at the table

Pairing: Din Djarin x gender-neutral!Reader

Rating: T/PG-13 [mild]

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Spoilers for s2ep3, Chapter 11! Reader uses they/them pronouns. References to drowning, not explicit. Descriptions of freezing/extreme cold. One reference to Chapter 9 (s2ep1). Din being as self-sacrificing as always. Din’s particular brand of Mandalorian family values. Pining, yearning, affection - just think soft.

A/N: well then. first time posting for din! this has been cooking since ep3 came out, i’m just slow. it’s soft!! and worried!! and din severely procrastinating his own identity crisis!! they’re really fuckin married, guys. lovely stuff. also, if you can’t tell, i adore frog lady. and bo-katan. mwah.

BIG thank you to @justrunamok, @pettyprocrastination and @generaldamneron for beta-reading <33

gif credit: @captrex - from the post here. thanks!

masterlist

You thought you knew cold.

Days and nights in the Crest have acquainted you with it. A hollow metal hull in the depths of the galaxy, surrounded on all sides by a vast expanse of nothing. Keeping the heater on burns fuel that you can’t afford, not with three mouths to feed. Space is cold, as cold as it could get.

And then you nearly drowned.

The briny depths of Trask are frigid, you’ve come to realise. Logically, you know it’s nowhere near the freezing vacuum of space. That’s real cold; true, absolute zero. But the thing about water is that it gets everywhere. The searing, ferocious chill of it had slammed all mental processes to a halt, petrifying your rationality before all else. It drenched your clothes, your hair. Snaked into your nose and seeped into your lungs. Rushed you as a swarm; no other sensation was relevant.

At the time — scrabbling at a grate hanging overhead, right there but always just out of reach — it’s what you imagined carbonite to feel like. Conscious but consumed.

Space is cold from a distance. Water freezes from the inside, cracked and jagged and burning.

So you should be grateful for your saviours. Mandalorians, unlike any you’ve ever seen before.

Which is to say, unlike Din.

There’s a lot to think about. So many things have happened in the span of a day that you can barely keep track. And beyond all else, you want to ask how Din’s coping—

“Trask is a black market port. They’re staging weapons that have been bought and sold with the plunders of our planet. We’re seizing those weapons and using them to retake our homeworld.”

—but there are more important things to deal with at the moment.

“Once we’ve done that, we’ll seat a new Mandalore on the throne,” the red-headed woman explains.

Bo-Katan. She speaks regally, like she’s been on that very throne before. More importantly — like she’d earned it. In truth, she scares you. All three of them do, these new Mandalorians who show their faces — they scare you in the way Din did back when he was just a gruff, faceless employer. A tinge of instinct; a shiver down your spine that has nothing to do with the cold.

What she’s saying is important, you know that, and you can’t place the onus on Din to handle it after the day he’s had. But you can’t bring yourself to focus either. You’re barely holding it together as it is, taking mild, balmy comfort in his and the baby’s presence on either side.

The three of you, together. Right now, at this table, that’s the only thing keeping you from splintering right down the middle.

Even with a steaming bowl of broth in your hands, your fingers ache with the chill. It hurts, regaining body heat. Hurts as feeling returns to your toes. Hurts to clench your jaw, to stop it from chattering. Hurts the delicate skin of your face, thousands of icy needles jabbing into the nerves. There’s a pounding between your ears and behind your eyes. You’re tired, and you suspect Din is, too.

You really do want to ask how he’s dealing with…this. The Way has been part of his life — and part of yours, in as much of a lifetime as you’ve known him — for many, many years. An oak tree, offering security and strength to the garden. How must he feel, stoic at your side, to see these three fell theirs so easily?

An identity crisis is the last thing Din needs.

What he needs is a break. You need him to want a break.

A coo at your elbow catches your attention. The baby — safe and warm, thank the Maker — seems fascinated with the water dripping from your hair, patting his hands into the small puddles forming on his high chair and giggling at the splashes. It’s as if he was never swallowed whole in the first place; that’s another thing you’re going to recall decidedly later. Nonetheless, he bounces back fast, your child.

You smile, hearing your teeth click, and pet the sensitive spot between his ears. He blinks at you sweetly.

Someone clears their throat.

You look up, startled, to find three pairs of eyes on you. Expecting. None of them saying… anything.

The other woman, the one with braids on her forehead, slurps her slithering noodles without blinking. Unnerving, to say the least.

“Sorry,” you blurt, more on reflex than anything else. “Did I… miss something?” The uncertainty in your voice doesn’t escape anyone’s notice.

Beneath the table, a broad thighs shifts to press against yours. Comforting. You glance at its owner.

“It’s… Mandalorian business.” Bo-Katan tilts her head. Her gaze flits between you and Din, polite and clear. “I’m sure you understand.”

You blink, bemused. “Oh?”

And then you realise.

She’s asking you to leave.

“Oh!” Your brows shoot up. One of her partners smiles ruefully in your periphery, and you are struck with the distinct feeling of being other. “Of course.”

That’s… well. It’s justified, is what it is. She’s right. You aren’t Mandalorian.

You stand quickly, and the chair grates against the floor unpleasantly. You manage not to cringe, somehow.

There’s a free table on the other side of the cantina, you think you saw it as you entered. Should you take the baby? No, Din’s never liked being away from him, even if you’re there. But they’re armed, all three of them, and you don’t know them, even if they did save your life, saved the baby’s, saved Din’s—

There’s a hand at your elbow.

“They stay.”

Din’s voice is unyielding. He hasn’t moved at all besides his grip on your arm, keeping his visor trained on Bo-Katan, who raises a brow.

No one says anything for a long, tense beat. Until—

“They’re not Mandalorian,” Bo-Katan says bluntly. It’s something you don’t have the nerve to state aloud. Something Din is apparently ignoring, however much you’d never believe it.

He stays silent.

“It’s okay,” your murmur, and the silver helmet you know turns to you fractionally. Barely anything, and you know you’re heard. You don’t need to see his face to know he’s still staring Bo-Katan down. “I don’t mind.”

There are three sharp, foreign gazes on you, and your newly-rejuvenated toes curl in your boots. After so many days bundled up in the Crest, you’d forgotten what it felt like to be watched and unwanted. The company inside had never made you feel that way.

“They stay,” he insists, making you jolt. “As is their right.”

Bo-Katan’s half-smile is faintly amused. “And which right is that?” she asks, like she already knows the answer. It seems like they all do, daring Din to state this mysterious ‘right’ that you’re in the dark about.

“It is their right as a member of my clan.”

The gloved fingers on your elbow tighten, leather creaking ever so slightly but just enough to remind you to breathe.

You blink at the silver helm dumbly, forgetting your onlookers for the time being.

He’s— He means that. Din doesn’t say what he doesn’t mean. Every word is measured, deliberate. He chooses his words like he chooses his weapons; they’re specific, well-cared for. Only to be used when necessary. Which suggests that—

Well. Maybe you should sit down.

As you do so, the woman opposite Din releases a slow, steady breath — Maker, you’d almost forgotten she was here — and squares her shoulders.

“Very well,” she says coolly. Her eyes flit to you, appraising, searching, before returning to Din. “As I was saying…”

And then you tune out again, ever so slightly. The information is going in, but you’re not truly registering its significance. Stupid, really, considering Din’s quite literally just fought for your place at the table. But you do.

You stare at the chipped, stained wood as if it holds the answers to questions you don’t know how to phrase. The baby babbles something incoherent, trying to get your attention, so unjustly denied to him, and you offer a finger for him to hold.

Clan. As in, part of. It’s new.

It feels like a small, three-fingered hand, gravelly warmth next to your thigh, and a hand pulling you back to the table.

———

Tracking down the Frog Woman and her husband isn’t too tedious. Trask’s daylight hours are long, for a moon, so even after Din’s aside with Bo-Katan and her people, it’s barely dark as you make your way to the inn.

“It won’t be long,” Din had assured you. “I go with them, assist with their mission, and come back within a day. Routine transport raid.”

Them. Their. It didn’t bode well that his so-called brethren are this… dissimilar.

“Last time you helped someone out, you got swallowed by a desert dragon.”

“That wasn’t last time.”

“Still counts.”

Childish, perhaps. Petulant. But correct.

The problem was, so was he. There was no choice.

Now, Din leads your party of three briskly down the street.

Since his father had manually adjusted the drift range on the crib beforehand, the child has no issue being carted along express-style, making curious noises at the various fishing apparatus he sees scattered around the port.

You don’t have such luxuries as the little womp rat, so you’re left to frantically try and match your Mandalorian’s pace. The lingering shivers wracking your frame are shoved aside for the wheezing burn beginning to creep up your sides.

“Hey, uh, Mando?” you ask, somewhat out of breath. “You think you could slow down? You’re going a little fast—”

Your shoulder clips a passing Quarren roughly, spinning you round with the force of the collision. The point of impact throbs unpleasantly, painful but superficial. Stunned, you can only blink as the tentacled man snaps something unintelligible in your face. An apology sits ready on your tongue and you open your mouth to speak, before a solid wall appears between you.

A breathing, unyielding wall of leather and beskar, glowering at the Quarren silently as you’re turned away, closer into the gentle bend of his hold. Quietly surrounding, protecting. Something else you’re not used to, from when it was just the three of you in the ship. But this feels… good. It feels like it’s yours.

The other man balks, and leaves with a grumble under his breath.

Din glances around above your head, ever aware, ever cautious. “Stay close,” he murmurs and—

You could probably pinpoint the exact moment your body temperature spikes, as a large, gloved hand comes to rest on your lower back. “Oh. Okay.”

The rest of the walk passes you by.

“I wasn’t trying to rush you,” he says tersely, having slowed his pace considerably. There’s an apology in there somewhere; you can hear it. “But you’re soaked, and you’re cold. You need to get warmed up.”

You smile. It’s really not the time, but— “Are you offering?”

A huff from the modulator, and he shakes his head silently. Less rejection, rather than fond exasperation.

“You must be cold, too.” The realisation dawns on you in an instant. Oh, Maker. He’s been freezing for just as long as you, now. If not more, since he hasn’t eaten anything warm.

The next shake of the helmet is more insistent, purposeful. “No. I wear more layers than you do.”

“You dived into the ocean, Din.” His name is hushed, spoken after a quick look to confirm that no one can hear you.

“So did you.”

“I was pushed, that’s not the same thing.”

Din doesn’t respond, and your smile dims. He seems to hesitate for a moment, before pressing a button on his vambrace, and the baby’s crib floats a little closer.

Oh.

He doesn’t say anything else for the rest of the walk. You regret bringing it up.

But his hand doesn’t stray from your back.

——

The building is small, cozy. Barely a couple of stories tall. And, to your delight, it’s warm.

“Thank you for having us,” you tell the Frog Woman gratefully. One of their towels is wrapped around your shoulders; a placeholder until you can find a clean, dry change of clothes. You feel better already. “We’re sorry to impose like this.”

She croaks something vaguely welcoming and you smile, keeping a shrewd, wary eye on the baby — now staring at the egg canister with wondrous intent, reaching his stubby little hands out from his place clutched to your chest. Now there’s something to keep you occupied for the evening.

A hand on your shoulder, warm and light, and you turn around. Din tilts his head towards the door. “I’ll be going,” he says, barely a whisper past the lip of the helmet.

“What? Uh, Mando, hold on!” Halfway out of the chair already, you stare at him incredulously, before turning back to the expecting parents. “Just— Just a second, please. Could you take the baby?”

However disinclined she may be to your carnivorous terror, the Frog Woman takes him into her hands gently. She’s sweet, kind. You hope she understands the depths of your appreciation.

A polite nod from Din to the couple. “I’ll be back for them soon.”

He follows you into the narrow corridor. The door slides shut behind you both.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

You stare at him for a moment, tugging the edge of the towel at your shoulders. Your mouth opens and closes, faltering around words that don’t have the courage to form.

“I…” You deflate. “I just— I wanted to ask you that. Before you left.” It’s a foolish question. What’s wrong, like his entire way of life hasn’t been upended in a heartbeat by a careless show of face. Like the Way hasn’t just crumbled at his feet like wet sand, trodden on by three strange pairs of boots, scorched by familiar jetpack fuel.

He doesn’t say anything. No tilt of the helmet, no sinking shoulders. Nothing. Just keeps looking at you, visor tilted down to your face.

There’s a reasonable distance between you. Not professional by any stretch of the imagination, but enough for him to be comfortable in semi-public. The corridor is empty, and you can’t hear any footsteps.

Except Din’s, when he steps forward.

You feel your features soften in time with the pounding of your heart. “Din, love, please—”

He pulls you into his chest, plucking the wind from your lungs in a surprised, candied puff into the worn fabric of his cowl. His arms snake around you, securing you to his sturdy frame, and by reflex, yours mirror the movement on him. The helm’s hard, flat surface presses against the side of your head tightly; an anchor tugging on the seabed.

You feel him inhale, a ragged, rattling thing that has your stomach sinking. You only hear that sound when he’s injured, stumbling back to you with a bounty and a nasty, jagged stab wound or two. Only when he’s injured but oh, isn’t he?

It’s hard to tell how long you remain like that. Wrapped around and in between each other. Feeling each other breathe in and out, like the push and pull of the tides. It’s worth it, for the fading of tension in Din’s shoulders. Not removal. But an ebb for the flow. You’ll take it.

“There is a lot,” he rasps, modulated into your hairline. “You know that. And I can’t focus on what needs to be done if I think about it.” You feel him sigh, draping into your arms even further. “I can’t afford that.”

You try to keep your voice calm, soothing. To avoid the hot press of tears threatening to clog your throat. “Okay. That’s, that’s— Okay.”

You sound like a fool, parroting your own words. But he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Okay,” Din agrees. There is something shaky in his voice, and you would give anything to wrench it from his chest and throw it into that Maker-forsaken ocean. Let it drown for all you care.

For now, though, this is enough.

You move to step back, just a palm’s breadth away, and his arms unlock to let you do so immediately. His gloved hands slide down to nestle in the dip of your waist.

You look at Din consideringly, wondering if you could push for later. Later, to discuss the revelations he’s been bombarded with. Later, to talk about what you’re doing to do. Later, to finally get him to rest his weary bones.

Urgent, but. You decide to let him be. For now.

There’s something else you’ve been meaning to ask about anyway.

“So.” You smile wanly, treasuring the jewelled glint of beskar through the thinnest film of tears. “As a member of your clan, huh?”

Din sighs. Bracing, grounding. Returning to the present, where you’re just here to see him off. Where you have a baby waiting inside to keep from snacking on your hosts, and he has a hijacking to initiate. His fingers press tighter into your skin.

He appreciates the subject change.

“You already know my name,” he says quietly. Shrugs. “I’d say you know more about me than anyone else.”

You take a second to mull that over. Enjoy the taste of it in your mouth, the weight of it in your heart. He is such a precious thing to know.

Without thinking, the word leaves your lips in a bright gust of affection. “Same.” The helm tilts. “You know more about me than anyone else, too.”

He nods, a small, barely-there movement. More to himself than to you, you suspect.

“Good.”

Elastically, achingly slow, Din leans his head down. You lift yours up. When your warmed forehead meets beskar, a kiss from which you feel deprived, yet glutted, you’re inclined to agree.

“Stay safe,” you whisper. Your heart fogs and clouds on the metal, right above where his lips would be.

His thumb strokes across your waist. And you know he will.

——

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #star wars #star wars fic #reader-insert #gn!reader #the mandalorian fic #the mandalorian season 2 #the mandalorian chapter 11 #gender neutral #gender neutral reader #the heiress #my writing #sw #bit nervous about this one #we'll see how it goes huh

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dumb-intp · 4 years

Text

Another thing I remember what my ENTP gf has done

ENTP: I bought you a keychain

INTP: for me? For real? Thank you

ENTP: it has heart in it

INTP: oh! Yeah, it does! Cute

ENTP: *smiles happily*

---------

ENTP: you said you like this kind of cookies, so I bought two cans of them

INTP: seriously?! Thanks!

--------

ENTP: INTP, get away from there, there's so many deadly mosquitoes. *Slaps the mosquitoes on INTP's arm* deadly mosquitoes are now dead mosquitoes. But seriously, let's get away from here.

---------

INTP: *talking about some world theories*

ENTP: Interesting. But do you realize that — *insert some flaws in my theories then giving ideas so it can be better*

--------

ENTP: listen. I don't trust you with needles. I took lessons, so let me stitch it.

INTP: sure, here ya go

ENTP: (idk why but she looks really happy here)

--------

ENTP: I like noodles, but I can't eat more noodles

INTP: then don't

ENTP: what, no. I'm going to eat them. I mean feed me. You have to feed me.

INTP: okay

---------

ENTP: You want to watch movies?

INTP: yeah, sure, why not

ENTP: what movie do you want to watch?

INTP: anything

ENTP: what about.. this one?

INTP: sure

ENTP: okay. This looks interesting, so let's focus

Also ENTP: *stares at INTP the whole time*

---------

ENTP: *gesturing to a room* get in

INTP: what, no

ENTP: don't make me repeat myself

INTP: why should i

ENTP: damn you *grabs INTP's hand and pulls them inside the room* I want to kiss you, you dense baby

---------

ENTP: *glaring at ESFP and ENFJ* why are you here. I'm in a date with INTP

ENFJ: this is a class. It's for everyone.

ENTP: it's after class. You guys should've head home already. It's INTP and I time for date.

ENFJ: I have business to do

ENTP: do it somewhere else.

INTP: hey, it's okay, we can go somewhere else. ENTP, come on

ENTP: what, no! It's our after class date!

INTP: I'm going to walk you home, come on.

ENTP: okay

--------

ENTP: are you jealous?

INTP: .. no, I'm not *clearly jealous*

ENTP: then look at me and say it

INTP: *looks at ENTP* I'm not jealous

ENTP: *smirking* nah, no, you're jealous. I can tell. You're so cute, do you know that?

--------

ENTP: *covers INTP's body with a towel, glaring at someone* enough swimming for today, let's go home

---------

ENTP: I have work in like, five minutes but I can manage to listen to you

*two hours later, ENTP still listening while doing their work*

-----------

INTP: I'm not in the mood for anything

ENTP: why? Are you sick? You're sleepy? What time did you sleep? Come here, sleep on my lap.

-----------

ENTP: are you still mad because I said you shouldn't touch anything in the office even though you really shouldn't?

INTP:

ENTP: let's go, I'll bought you ice cream

----------

ENTP: I like seeing people holding hands. They're just so cute together. Wish I had someone to do that with.

INTP: yeah, me too

ENTP: I mean you! I want to hold your hand!

INTP: oh, okay, here

ENTP: *giggles happily*

----------

INTP: I want to buy you a necklace

ENTP: why don't you buy two? Couple necklaces!

INTP: what do you want?

ENTP: anything you want

INTP: this one bullet right here looks good

ENTP: sure! I'll take the silver. You take the black.

--------

ENTP: what's your ring size?

INTP: what for

ENTP: for rings

INTP: oh, idk my ring sizes

Later on, INTP bought two rings for ENTP. And the entire day ENTP just smiles, then get sad all of a sudden. (Still don't know why ENTP gets so moody)

---------

ENTP: I make puddings for you

INTP: oh, thank you

ENTP: but it's chocolate though, you can't eat chocolate

INTP: it's fine

ENTP: it's not fine. I'll change it. Just wait for tomorrow. I'll just dump this one, it's for an experiment anyway. I probably put salt instead of sugar.

--------

So, whenever ENTP said they're a villain? Bull crap. They'd do anything for me. So there's no way they're a villain. And for all ENTPs out there, just to let you know, you're not evil. So don't even think that you're evil. You love to express your love in different ways, and some of us notice it.

Or if you actually like to be evil, it's okay too. No one will judge you. Just be careful with your life, okay?

#i just want to prove my gf that she's not a villain #but she didn't read this post so #i realize that i am really stupid #she loves me #INTP #ENTP #entp x intp #there was supposed to be lot of cursing from intp but i filter it

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stiltonbasket · 4 years

Note

See, I'm the terrible person who would ask for a kidnapping situation in the Renouncement verse regardless of Sizhui's feelings on the matter =D

(author’s note: please please reblog if you can, since that’s how we get prompts for future chapters!)

When Wei Wuxian opens his eyes, he is dimly aware that the last time he was conscious, he was somewhere else.

In fact (unless he is very much mistaken) he was out on a night hunt with Sizhui and Jingyi; the three of them went to investigate a demon boar near the border between Gusu and Zhoushan, and Ouyang Zizhen and Jin Ling both joined them there. Wei Wuxian went scouting ahead with Chenqing as he usually does, cautioning the juniors to keep back until he could get a good look at the beast and decide if it was something the boys could safely defeat, and then he remembers slapping at the back of his neck to kill a biting insect and finding a silver needle there instead.

And then the world went black around him, dissolving into a shadowy realm of pain and invisible snarling creatures only a few feet away, and someone laughing—laughing from somewhere high above him, while Wei Wuxian lifted his feet to run and discovered that they were chained to the ground.

And after that, there was nothing.

“Lan Zhan?” he croaks, reaching out until his hand catches on soft silk and then at the end of what feels like his husband’s forehead ribbon. “Lan Zhan, where are we?”

Someone pulls back a curtain, at that, letting so much light into the room that Wei Wuxian covers his eyes, and someone else bursts into tears, while a third person (most likely Jingyi, he decides) flings himself out the door and yells for Lan Xichen.

“Jingyi,” Wei Wuxian moans, vaguely aware of the quivering hands helping him sit upright against a pillow. “Not so loud, I—”

I’m in the jingshi.

How did I get back here…?

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says—and oh, Lan Zhan is here, climbing up onto the bed beside him and embracing him so tightly that Wei Wuxian can scarcely breathe. “I should have come with you, I should have known something would go wrong!”

He must be the one who was crying, Wei Wuxian realizes, because tears are trickling onto his head, and every part of Lan Zhan’s body is shaking so hard that he can feel it through the six layers of robes his husband seems to have wrapped him in.

“Tell me where it hurts, xingan. We bandaged the bites, and the scratches, but I—I could not wake you to ask if anything else had gone wrong, even though Xiongzhang was certain you were only in shock, and you—”

“What happened?” he manages to say at last, after forcing his eyes fully open and glancing around their bedroom. Lan Qiren’s shadow is just visible behind the privacy screen, sitting at Lan Zhan’s qin with his hands frozen on the strings and so clearly relieved that he has actually begun to slouch a little, and Wei Wuxian can hear Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling shouting at each other (or possibly at some poor Lan healer) on the porch outside. “A-Yuan and I went after a demon boar, not—not—”

“You were kidnapped,” his husband whispers. “Someone had lured the demon boar out of Zhoushan and into Gusu territory to trap you, they knew I was away in Qinghe with Xiongzhang, and so you were stolen away the moment you left Sizhui’s sight in the forest. He heard footsteps leading away from the spot, but he thought they were yours, and so—”

Wei Wuxian shakes his head. “That doesn’t make any sense, Lan Zhan. How did they even get hold of me?”

“Xiongzhang found a needle-prick in your neck,” Lan Zhan tells him, as Wei Wuxian puts his hand up to feel for it. “It was laced with some kind of seizing poison, he said. And the dose was low enough for a non-cultivator to be affected by it, which means that they knew about your golden core.”

That would explain it, certainly, because when Wei Wuxian woke in that other place—the place with chains and slavering beasts and cries that sounded like they came from human throats, though they were not human in the slightest—someone had said something about his golden core, from far overhead so that he could scarcely hear it, and then there were teeth sinking into his arms, his shoulders, right before he thrust his hands straight into something cold and sticky like old rotting meat and closed his hands around bone.

“Come back, sweetheart,” he hears his husband call. “I’m here, Wei Ying. I’m here.”

“How did I get out?” he asks, when Lan Zhan brings him a cup of mint tea to settle his stomach and produces another blanket from his sleeve to drape around Wei Wuxian’s shoulders. “And who kidnapped me, anyway?”

“Someone whose father and grandfather died at Bu Ye Tian, from what we discovered. There were many others involved, all with grievances against you, and from their accents I believe some might have been connected to Lanling Jin.”

“...You mean you don’t know for sure?”

“They attempted to stand in my way when I reached the place you were being held,” Lan Zhan tells him. “I—did not see any reason to preserve their lives, at the time. The few who surrendered were questioned by Nie Huaisang, and we thought he would turn them over to Gusu Lan to face justice, but instead he requested Xiongzhang’s permission to execute them.”

Wei Wuxian’s eyes go wide. “And Xichen-ge let him?”

“Do you know what they did to you?” Lan Zhan asks, instead of answering the question. “Can you even remember?”

“Ah, Lan Zhan, you know I have a terrible memory. I barely even remember the last siege on Qishan, because of all the resentment I was channeling, and it couldn’t have been that bad if you—”

“They threw you into a cellar filled with fierce corpses and left you there to die,” his husband chokes, openly weeping now as he pulls Wei Wuxian back into his arms and sobs into his hair. “You—they had gagged you, so you would not be able to whistle—” and that explains the strange raw feeling of Wei Wuxian’s mouth, now that he thinks about it— “and they left Chenqing behind on the spot where they took you, because they could neither break it nor take it with them, and you had nothing to fight the corpses with but the leg bones you tore out of the rotten ones—”

He does remember that, oddly enough.

“How did you find me, then?” he wonders. “How was there even time?”

“I was already on my way back to the Cloud Recesses, and when I reached it I found Shufu and Xiongzhang arranging a search party. “Sizhui summoned Wen Ning, and I followed. It was—when we reached you, it was almost—”

His face twists, and another river of tears drips down his face and soaks Wei Wuxian’s blankets.

“I almost lost you again, sweetheart,” he whispers, “and it was my fault, again.”

___

Several hours later, after Lan Xichen examines him and declares him perfectly healthy aside from the bruises and corpse bites, Wei Wuxian finally makes his way to the kitchen table with A-Yu whimpering in his arms and sinks down onto a bench while Lan Zhan prepares a serving of plain white egg congee with tiny slivers of diced meat in it, seasoned with only salt and pepper because Wei Wuxian had been sick when Jingyi and Sizhui brought him a bowl of his favorite spicy guqiao mixian earlier that afternoon.

He would have loved to soothe the uneasy feeling in his chest by burning it out with chili oil, but his stomach had rebelled—probably because of the corpse-stench he spent hours breathing last night, Lan Xichen suggested—and denied him that comfort, too.

“Don’t cry,” he murmurs, rocking his son back and forth as Lan Zhan puts a spoonful of warm porridge between his lips and then feeds some to Xiao-Yu. “See, your Papa made congee for us, Yu’er. Be a good boy and eat some, ah?”

Xiao-Yu turns his head away and wails into Wei Wuxian’s shoulder. “No! A-Yu wants noodles!”

“Xiao-Yu, baobei, it’s been a long day, and Papa is very tired,” Wei Wuxian pleads, picking up the spoon himself and holding it up to the baby’s stubborn mouth. “It’s good, sweetheart. Try some.”

“Hush, my love,” Lan Zhan says quietly. “You must eat enough, Wei Ying, since you have had nothing since last night. Wait here for a moment, and I will fetch the noodles. He wants the guqiao mixian A-Yuan brought, that is all, and there is plenty left over.”

And he was beside himself when his A-Niang did not come home, no matter how much he cried for him, Lan Zhan doesn’t say. He watched his own mother die before you adopted him, and when Jingyi returned alone...

“I won’t go anywhere again,” he promises—close to Xiao-Yu’s tiny ears, but with his eyes fixed on Lan Zhan’s. “A-Die won’t leave you, A-Yu. Don’t be scared, hm?”

“Xiao-Yu was scared!” the toddler sobs, rubbing his button nose against Wei Wuxian’s arm and leaving a damp trail of tears all down his sleeve. “A-Niang, no go!”

“I won’t, I won’t. Don’t cry, Xiao-Yu, I’m here!”

Lan Zhan pulls them both into his arms, at that, and the three of them sit together near the hearth until the porridge goes cold. Lan Zhan still insists on feeding it to them, though, and then on tucking them both into bed with Wei Wuxian sleeping in the middle so A-Yu and Lan Zhan can keep him warm.

(He loves his family so very much, especially in times like these.)

#wangxian #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #renouncement verse #wangxian arranged marriage au #my fic

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