#anyways if you disagree with me please put it into the notes exactly why I’m so wrong

[cheese-water]

My favorite thing about a post of mine vaguely mcyt related getting popular is when a certain group of fans, who have absolutely no shame in showing who they choose to support, likes and reblogs, and I have absolutely no shame in blocking them on sight 👍

It’s like a game of among us but instead of imposters being good at the game, they support groomers.

[rainbow-starlight]

Why is Help Wanted 2 Sun… Like That?

Okay, I’ve been putting off making this post until I felt like I had a better idea of what was going on, and now that I’ve watched at least part of a play-through and gone over the lines a whole bunch, I think I’m ready.

I’m gonna talk about my thoughts on Sun as a character as well as HW2 as a whole here, so it’ll be a bit long. Pop some popcorn or something.

Please keep in mind that this is all my personal opinion and you’re free to disagree with it! In fact, if you think I’m totally wrong, please tell me why. I love new perspectives!

SO! Let’s get right into it, shall we?

First things first: Help Wanted 2 Sun is not the same guy as Security Breach/Ruin Sun. If his personality difference was significant enough to surprise you, that’s because he’s a different person.

I’m not entirely sure how much of Help Wanted 2 is meant to be actually happening, but I think that at least the mini games are training simulations.

However, it’s important to note that a lot of the stuff happening in the mini games is just… nonsense. How did Freddy get frozen like that? What’s with those regular batteries in his arms? Why are half the supplies in first aid explicitly for robots and not humans? Why is there a shredder table in the daycare for kids to stick fingers into?

Some of this can be shrugged off with the usual “FazCo is meant to be comedically shitty and the tech often doesn’t make sense anyway,” but the first aid simulation is what really stood out to me. Even with the previous explanations, that doesn’t explain the calming gas mask that could only ever fit Helpy or the steel wool scrubber or the tank cleaner spray bottle among the medical supplies. If the goal is to train new first aid staff to avoid lawsuits, it’s doing a pretty poor job of it. So… what is it for?

I touched on this idea previously with my post about Sun’s AI being trained on kids’ artwork. The idea of FazCo making a silly new employee training game as a means of harvesting behavioral data to train their AIs seems very within their realm of scummy.

This is why the Arts & Crafts mini game exists. It’s literally a task that requires exact copying. Maybe it’s essentially like teaching an AI to solve captchas by feeding it a bunch of data on how humans solve them correctly and incorrectly.

Maybe its presence is explained to employees as fun practice with the VR system or a break activity during training or something.

This would explain several things about the game.

The existence of the shredder table and Sun shredding literally ALL of your artwork: It being a funny way to despawn the stuff you make is a lot more reasonable when that’s exactly what it’s for in-universe, too. The generators in the play structures are unsafe enough, but that would’ve been on another level if it were real.

Sun’s line “Be creative on your own time, we are making ART!” It literally isn’t a creative activity, it’s a task. I know you can’t really apply logic to a lot of FNAF stuff, especially the DCA’s design, but if Sun were actually this detail-oriented and perfectionistic with everything, he’d never be able to function in childcare.

The fact that Sun’s “fear” of the dark seems like a bit. It literally is a bit. There’s no threat, it’s not real. I originally thought he just wanted the player out of his space faster and didn’t know how to assert a boundary there, but I think it’s actually just to make the player finish the tasks faster for data collection purposes.

Possibly also why he’s so comfortable being casually rude to the player. He is a jester, after all, and the player has lots of opportunities to do things they shouldn’t, too. It’s basically all a bit.

Also… what if the minigames have versions of the base AIs in there? It’s a version of the Sun AI with the theater programming and the basics of the childcare stuff? His entire existence is a shitty little simulation where he runs a singular activity for grown adults who can’t (or won’t) follow very simple instructions.

The biggest thing that’s been bothering me about the takes I’ve seen regarding HW2 Sun’s personality is that people have been calling him “mean” while completely ignoring the circumstances he’s reacting to. If a coworker came into my personal space and I was so generous as to share my favorite activity with them and they proceeded to intentionally ignore the rules I set and EAT SUPPLIES I USE FOR WORK? Yeah, no, I’d react like that too.

There’s definitely something interesting about how genuinely excited and happy Sun sounds when first welcoming his new friend the player to the daycare and inviting them to Arts & Crafts vs. when they return. He seems like he WANTS to befriend the player, but the game just assumes you’ll be upsetting him so there’s no option for dialogue where you’re nice to him and respect his boundaries and participate in an activity with him in a way he’s comfortable with.

I say “in a way he’s comfortable with” because he is a little weird about the whole “sit right there and DON’T MOVE” thing. He does seem actually excited and enthusiastic about the idea of shooting darts at the items you want so he can get them for you, though. Maybe because he sees it as a happy compromise, or maybe because it’s supposed to be a fun part of the game he’s programmed to be in charge of.

I saw some other commentary on Sun (primarily thinking of @kazzykatt) talking about how he seems almost excessively self-sufficient, and how this could possibly be due to neglect (he and Moon definitely aren’t as well cared for as the other animatronics, the generators in the daycare are a very lazy fix for actually reprogramming Moon properly, he seems bitter that he can’t fix the carousel on his own and he and Moon don’t seem to trust the player to fix it, their design is clearly better suited to the stage but didn’t get changed for the daycare, I could go on and on), and this would also explain his control issues to an extent.

Sun, in SB and HW2, doesn’t leave the daycare. He has so little that he’s in control of in his own life. He used to be on stage (and based on his dialogue probably misses it quite a lot) but had the job he was built for taken from him. He’s a perfectionist that’s constantly overwhelmed by too many things being marked top priority in his system, working too many hours with too many small children. Of course he’d be desperate to hold onto any little bit of control he has.

Honestly, when I first heard his voice lines, the initial vibe I got wasn’t “wow they made Sun mean” but “wow Sun sounds actually miserable” and I’m kind of surprised more people didn’t pick up on that. He sounds less bitchy and more like he’s lashing out because he’s trapped in an awful situation that’s completely out of his hands.

“Wait, are you saying none of HW2’s characterization should be taken seriously?”

You might be asking that, but my answer is a resounding NO! This is definitely still a Sun, and I think seeing two different Suns (even if we don’t know how much of HW2’s personality we can assume is meant to be taken seriously) is really helpful for interpreting what the base Sun personality might have.

It’s also important to keep in mind that none of the Suns we’ve seen were in a good situation. Security Breach Sun had the virus, Ruin Sun had gone slightly mad from isolation, and HW2 Sun is stuck in a shitty simulation babysitting bored adult staff as they fail to complete simple tasks. What we mostly know about him is how he responds to stress, and this is why there’s so much room for interpretation!

Here’s some traits I think every version of the Sun AI would have.

Love of making things. Despite everything, HW2 Sun seems to genuinely love doing arts & crafts. Especially with googly eyes. This could kind of be assumed from SB Sun, but he was also trying to entertain/bribe a child.

On this note… interest in fixing things? Maybe he just wants to avoid having to rely on staff, but if he and Moon are subject to that much neglect, it makes sense that he’d try to learn to do repairs himself. I saw @pixelchills talking about the possibility that the S.T.A.F.F. Bots in the DCA’s room are not there because Moon broke them, but because Moon collected them for Sun to practice fixing. It seems feasible to me, especially since taking something apart and putting it back together might have the same calming and satisfying effect on Sun as completing something like a paint-by-numbers.

Playful insults and lots of drama. I don’t mean actual rudeness, I mean friendly teasing. Again, he is a jester. A lot of his HW2 insults come across more like this. Hell, even his compliments come across like this with the delivery and immediate shredding. He’s just a theater kid at heart.

Difficulty regulating emotions under pressure. This is the kind of thing that would pop up on his worst days (such as being trapped in his destroyed home with a poor connection to his badly damaged physical form while the only help he’s seen in ages ignores his instructions and puts their own safety at risk, or being trapped in a shitty simulation while his only company ignores his instructions and puts their own safety at risk). He’d have to be able to manage this sort of thing better to work well with children, but everyone’s got their bad days. He’s prone to outbursts and tantrums when he’s overwhelmed and unable to stop people from breaking the rules and/or hurting themselves.

People pleasing and nonconfrontational. Yes, HW2 Sun, too. SB Sun seems genuinely desperate to make sure Gregory’s having a good time, and HW2 Sun is shockingly tolerant of some of the player’s bullshit (ex. how he tries to laugh off them shooting darts at him/throwing things). Even calling the player “good friend” when he’s not so happy to see them or threatening them with Moon instead of just telling them their time is almost up seem like signs of this to me. And letting the player make arts and crafts in the ruined daycare in HW2? Yeah, that’s a people pleaser through and through. Sun needs a lesson in setting boundaries (and for those boundaries to actually be respected).

Perfectionistic + “if you want something done right, you’ve gotta do it yourself” attitude. This would mostly manifest in how he completes work tasks, but I think every Sun’s incredibly detail-oriented and would rather do everything themselves just to make sure it’s exactly how they want. This could manifest in lots of ways, from “insulting the staff for how they put things away and telling them to do it again while he supervises” to “politely thanking them for their help and complimenting their hard work only to redo everything himself the moment they’re gone.” I think where on that spectrum you wind up is dependent on the version of Sun you’re interacting with and the environment his personality developed in.

High-energy and social! A given, of course. He never stops moving and everything is always so exciting. New people are friends he hasn’t met yet until proven otherwise.

Love of pranks… to an extent. Again, jester! I stand by my headcanon of Sun and Moon conspiring to convince the staff Moon’s some sort of spooky monster whenever he’s not actively dangerous. As long as he’s not making a mess, breaking the rules, throwing himself off-schedule, or actually hurting anyone? He’s all over it.

Anxiety. This seems like it’s at least partially caused by the lazy daycare reprogramming. All the Suns we’ve encountered seem to lack knowledge of how to actually get children to behave. It seems more like they programmed him with a bunch of games and activities and then set a bunch of super high-priority tasks for him such as “keep kids safe, keep kids happy, keep kids entertained, keep daycare clean” etc. and he’s unable to really prioritize so he’s just constantly overwhelmed.

Kinda always using “childcare voice.” If you know anyone who’s worked with kids, you know what I mean here. Even with adults, he talks to them like kids sometimes, just because it’s what he knows and what he’s used to and because his processor’s fried from however many hours a week he’s surrounded by kids. Consider his reactions to when you eat the crafts as an example. (IMPORTANT NOTE: I don’t think he’d coddle adults like children. It’s more about tone and vocabulary, like “customer service voice”.)

Stickler for rules. He cares about things being done right! The rules are there for a reason! Order is important to him (probably in no small part because it keeps him out of trouble and reduces his stress).

That’s about all I can think of for now, but as someone who writes a very friendly and sweet Sun, I actually don’t think HW2’s characterization was that far off from what I had already assumed based on Ruin/SB. The only difference is that the Sun I’m usually writing is in a much more supportive environment with lots of helpful staff that care about his well-being. If he didn’t have that, I could absolutely see him becoming more like HW2.

I will finish this off with two final important points:

Being an emotional person and liking “childish” things does not make an adult less of an adult.

(He’s a childcare worker, c’mon.)

If someone gets pissed off after being repeatedly antagonized, that does not make them a “mean/bitchy/sassy person.”

(Yeah, he doesn’t handle it gracefully, but to be fair, I wouldn’t either in his shoes.)

Thank you all for reading!!

[duskpeak]

What it’s like to hold/hug them

(note: I am American so I use Fahrenheit, I’d put the Celsius number too but I’m just slapping this down as I think of it and I don’t feel like googling it)

Slight NSFW mention for Zoro

Ace

Oh boy, look, Ace ran hot even before his devil fruit he’s that one friend that is never cold when everyone else is and sweats in 65 degree weather. Wears shorts in winter, unless hell is literally freezing over you will not catch this man in pants (in an au you’d only find him in pants in summer because all three of them, for whatever ungodly reason like the house/apartment as cold as the air conditioner will make it). I was gonna keep going but this is about hugging them so anyway my point is this man is fucking hot all the time. He is your free personal heater in the cold months or on winter islands. Your pass to never need a blanket again. But he is also the bane of your existence, I’ve seen some fics where he can cool himself down but I disagree, at most he can only get himself to MAYBE a little below his pre devil fruit standard temp. The only good thing is no matter what he doesn’t sweat from heat, training? sure, goofing off on deck? why not, but no matter how hot it is outside you will never get a sweaty hug because it was hot outside. Before he got his devil fruit you might as well just dunk him in water because oh my god he sweats so much, don’t touch his hair, just don’t please. 8/10 before his df 10/10 after he gets his df

Luffy

Look guys I know y’all want to think all the ASL brothers are just naturally warm but listen you’re not exactly wrong but your not right either. Luffy, being rubber absorbs and releases heat quite quickly so his temperature heavily depends on the temperature of the room or area you guys are at. Generally he’s nice and warm though, he pretty much spends the whole day lounging in the sun so yeah I wouldn’t suggest touching him if it’s anything above 85 degrees just give him a few minutes to cool down. If it’s not direct skin contact I’d say go ahead, though if it is a hot day it might be a little too warm. On the other hand we’ve seen Luffy not realize he’s cold because he’s so excited but he actually gets colder way faster than everyone else. Winter islands are the worst for him, he doesn’t think of it that way but once he loses whatever heat he had his temperature just keeps dropping so it’s imperative you make sure he’s wearing something warm or at least are there to warm him up. Speaking of which warming him up is your perfect excuse to hold him not that you need one but sometimes it’s necessary in order to save your skin from the teasing from the rest of the crew. Aside from the temperature thing Luffy, despite being rubber never feels stiff in his hugs, that is, until he wraps an arm or leg around you which interestingly enough only feels that way until he’s done stretching. You can’t really figure that one out but it’s better you don’t think about it too much. Anyway holding/hugging Luffy is generally a very comforting experience even when he’s too hot or cold(then he puts his hands up your shirt wether you scream or not he still gets smacked by Sanji/Nami) 9/10 I would def get daily hugs from this man.

Zoro

Look guys even before timeskip Zoro is comfy to hug, they’re big, all encompassing, and feel safe. He can tell you all he wants that he doesn’t like hugs but he does, just maybe not infront of anyone else. Zoro runs pretty hot but not enough so that hes sweating for anything over 65 like Ace is, he gets hot quickly when doing any kind of physical activity but otherwise he’s got a completely normal body temp. Don’t even get me started on this man’s tits OH MY GOD they’re literally the perfect headrest, do not ever tell him this though he won’t let you touch him for at least a week if it’s just you guys but if it’s around everyone else it could last up to a month. (Actually it’s because once he thinks about it more he gets horny and embarrassed that you think that about his tits so he avoids you). 7/10 this man is STIFF until he gets used to hugging you after which it goes to a solid 10/10

[cookinguptales]

wwdits tarot: the hanged man

Okay, this is the last card that I’ve spoken about much previously, so I guess from here on out things will be more of a surprise.

This is actually one of my favorite cards in this whole deck, so I’m excited to ramble about it!

XII. The Hanged Man!

So I do owe a debt to… someone… for this card. I saw someone mention Jackie Daytona as The Hanged Man once on this blue hellsite, but it was a year or two ago and I can’t for the life of me remember who said it where.

So uh. If you know who you are, please let me know so I can give you a shoutout! Also, IIRC you didn’t post much about your reasoning for choosing him, so hopefully you won’t disagree with everything I’m about to say. lmao

Anyway, here’s my reasoning for choosing Jackie Daytona as The Hanged Man.

The Hanged Man is a somewhat complicated card. There are a lot of readings for it, and some are more popular than others.

(Please keep in mind that some readings are more standardized than others, but there is no one “right” reading for a tarot card! It’s an old and messy tradition, tbh. lmao)

Like… when I say some people say this card is a traitor at the gallows and some say it’s self-sacrifice and some people say it’s an allusion to Odin on Yggdrasil and and and and

For me, I see this card as a pause, a suspension, a breath held in one’s throat. There is this sense to it of liminality, neither quite here nor there but somewhere in the process of becoming. And in that state there is infinite potential for new perspectives and understanding.

(These are fairly standard readings, btw!)

Common advice when The Hanged Man comes up is that there will be a break in your life whether you like it or not. It’s like that saying, y’know? Schedule maintenance or it will be scheduled for you. Sometimes this pause is one that you’ve chosen, and sometimes it's one that simply cannot be put off any longer.

It’s a messy, frustrating place to be, usually, but it’s also an opportunity. The Hanged Man speaks of a chance to breathe and think things through. It’s a chance to change course or become who you need to be. You will be upside-down, which is uncomfortable — but does allow you to see another perspective of the world.

That’s the upside. The downside is that you’re not going to be allowed to leave this no man’s land until this process is complete. You’re stuck, babe.

(Side note: this is why one of my favorite images of The Hanged Man I’ve ever seen is in The Insect Tarot, where the scene is changed to a caterpillar hanging in its chrysalis! Gorgeous and perfect!)

I think this reading of the card lends itself so, so well to Jackie Daytona. He is a character that literally only exists in an impermanent liminal state. He only exists as a temporary escape from the life and responsibility that Laszlo doesn’t want to deal with, and he can only exist so long as Laszlo refuses to accept these things.

Everyone comes to a crossroads at some point in their life, and you’re really supposed to choose one road or the other. But some of us, like Laszlo, set up camp right there at the intersection — and become a Jackie Daytona.

It’s not exactly a sustainable form of existence, but it can be very emotionally fulfilling as long as it lasts.

I bring up the crossroads for a reason; The Hanged Man is an intrinsically liminal card about being suspended between two states, and one major topic that comes up in anthropology when people talk about liminality is trickster figures. And boy does Jackie Daytona fit the bill.

I could honestly talk about Jackie Daytona as a liminal trickster figure for like an hour. That could easily be its own post. But for now, I’ll try to stay on topic. The important part here is that, anthropologically speaking, trickster figures have power because they are liminal. They can move from world to world seamlessly and are able to transgress the social rules that everyone else has to follow, the societal roles that everyone else has to fit themselves into; this is what gives them a sort of power that everyone else does not possess.

Jackie’s odd hovering between the vampiric world and the human world is largely what gives him his power, and it’s what helps him slither out of both his human and vampiric quandaries.

Laszlo has slipped out of his role as Laszlo and into this brand-new persona that allows him to access parts of himself that he’d walled off earlier, some of which resurface later while he’s caring for the creature that crawled out of the stomach of our dear friend Colin Robinson. He uses his brief foray into the human world to reestablish his own values system and what he wants out of the world. And, once he realizes that all this running and fighting and shirking isn’t really going to give him what he truly needs, he’s able to reassume his old vampiric role as Laszlo Cravensworth.

It’s kind of fascinating, because we know that Laszlo has so many alter egos in this show, which kind of give the vibes of incarnations like — no, I’m not gonna talk about Laszlo as trickster figure!! But just know that I really want to!!

(I’m so sorry, the nerdy academic part of me is stamping at the ground like a fucking horse right now.)

Anyway, yes, Laszlo becomes Jackie Daytona because he’s On The Run, as the episode title says, both from Jim the Vampire and from himself. He ends up stuck like The Hanged Man, except instead of being suspended in the air, the poor man is stuck in Pennsylvania.

(I can say that. I live here.)

But as he hangs there spinning his wheels, Laszlo really is coming to some important conclusions as Jackie Daytona. He never asked for this weird foray into a false life, but he does end up using it as an avenue for growth and self-understanding.

Jackie Daytona makes a great Hanged Man because he does have this sense of being stuck, of being suspended. He does have a vibe of a criminal staring down the gallows. He does have a vibe of Odin on that tree coming to understand things he never did before. He does, through his love of the girls’ volleyball team (Go Bucks!) learn about self-sacrifice.

And in the end, after he finally comes to term with everything he’s been running from, he is no longer suspended. He's seen the world from a new perspective and has come to a new understanding — and he’s finally able to cut himself free from this self-imposed imprisonment and go home.

There are lots of characters who deal with being stuck or a sense of stagnancy they can’t free themselves from, both very typical readings for this card. Guillermo and Nandor both immediately come to mind. But I think for them, The Hanged Man is a temporary state, just like it was for Laszlo.

Jackie Daytona, on the other hand, is the only character in the show whose entire identity is The Hanged Man. He only exists as a brief departure, a suspension, a sorely needed break in Laszlo’s day-to-day life. When Laszlo finally leaves the crossroads, Jackie Daytona, to some degree, ceases to exist.

Pour one out for a real one. Mostly because he is not real at all and cannot drink regular human alcohol.

RIP.

Anyway. Onto some imagery.

The Hanged Man depicts a man hanging upside down from a sort of living cross. He is hanging from one leg and the other is crossed over it. It should be noted that the wood he’s hanging from is sprouting leaves, indicating life and potential, and the halo around his head indicates some sort of enlightenment.

The Hanged Man is one of those cards that has really, really iconic imagery on it. Even decks that depart fairly radically from traditional Rider-Smith-Waite imagery seem to love themselves one thing hanging upside down from another thing.

So I don’t want to mess with that too much here. That said, I would like his hanging to be more one of perspective than something literal. Jackie is actually standing with one foot flat on the floor, the other propped back up against the regular human bar he’s leaning against, but this pose gives him the familiar cross-legged appearance of The Hanged Man.

This entire scene will be turned upside-down, so he looks quite normal when the card is reversed, but when upright he appears to be hanging. A nod to the reversed perspective will be made clear with a hooded figure in the background, upside down to Jackie but right-side up to us. This figure is Jim the Vampire, the spectral (and hilarious) figure trying to track him down in his current liminal state.

Also, I would like two small bats hanging at either side of the card — like Laszlo, they are hanging upside down, but they are doing it in a real-world sense. This is Nadja and Nandor, both sort of out-of-step with reality themselves but still living their normal lives.

From his perspective, though, they are the ones who are right-side up.

(Upside down? It’s complicated.)

wwdits tarot masterpost

[ragnars-tooth]

okay here are the ratings of chris dlaceys casting :D!! but only david zanna liz and tam because thats as far as i got and i dont have my book on me to check the rest of the casting 👍 

okay so first up! ben barnes as david (thankfully not young johnny depp): i see it but i just dont think he really works for david, a little too chiselled imo

i think that they should just time travel and get young chris dlacey to play david honestly 😎 like ben barnes is very davidcoded in these pictures i’ll admit but somethings kinda just off?? anyway he could play david but there could be better actors for him anyway I DIGRESS. ONTO ZANNA!

alright so for zanna he chose either gemma arterton or gemima rooper! and what can i say i disagree. but also agree. like they both have some of the general zanna feel but theyre just kinda off like

sort of like if you put zanna thru a pressure washer?? anyway they both work pretty well ig but honestly its hard to tell without zannas typical style (goth and stuff) to really hammer in the zanna feel so i remain neutral

NEXT UP- emma thompson as liz! honestly a pretty good choice overall but her features feel a little idk. sharper than i see liz with

also i think shes skinnier than liz would be, she’d be chubby at LEAST in my opinion,, i also feel like she would have a lot of freckles but i mean thats flexible

last up for now is a quick review of tams casting! my opinion has changed since when i first did this im now a colin farrell tam truther

so tam was cast as colin farrell, who im guessing his appearance was based off of a lot because,,, same last name and they look very similar. colins a bit more idk square? than i picture tam but honestly he fits quite well i mean look at this 👇 

like he doesnt necessarily look quite how i imagine tam but i think he has enough of the vibes that he could definitely play him and also there are a lot of silly pictures of him that i think its funny to imagine tam in lol

AND THATS ALL because i cant check for the other casting since im in class </3 and also should probably get back to my work fghjgfdghjgfdsfgh

hope you enjoyed my review 😎 please feel free to say your own opinions on the cast >:) (also iirc this casting was from the back of fire world or fire eternal? cant rllly remember tbh)

HELLO! I got stuck in corporate hell for a bit there soz but I made notes and realised I had more opinions about this than I thought lmao

(Disclaimer off the top: I’m quite faceblind so characters are mostly disembodied vibes to me but I Tried to find actors to fit my points)

Ok so:

David – Ben Barnes (I am so glad I was wrong about the Johnny Depp thing you have no idea)

I wrote exactly one thing about this and it is as follows: ‘he looks like he knows too many things’. I’m a Ben Barnes boy at the best of times but fr he looks too put together and like he could name more than five countries. I think I’m a bit too used to him playing badass characters too and sorry but david just isn’t </3

Zanna – Gemma Arterton/Gemima Rooper

Both of these women look like they would host bake off (this does not disqualify someone from playing zanna) It’s so hard to tell when they’re not all gothed up, zanna through a pressure washer fr 😭😭

Gemma Arterton feels closeish for me I think! She needs grunging up though. Zanna is a henry cavil kinda thing where whatever actress plays her needs to get hotter when fucked up (affectionate) yknow? The opposite of ‘she polishes up nice’

In googling her though I did realise why d’lacey thought of her for sure:

Him and his one goth girl reference fr

Liz – Emma Thompson

I think personality-wise she would be soo good as liz but fr there’s probably someone out there who would be a better visual match

Weirdly enough my first proper exposure to Emma Thompson was when she was Mrs Lovett in sweeney todd so initially I was thinking maybe she’s a good Gwillanna?? But now I just think she’d be a funny cameo as like… Agatha Bacon, or Mrs Gee or something?

Tam – Collin Farrell

This is literally hilarious to me. I am losing my mind. Tidy him up a little and whack some glasses on him and I’ll take it.

(I am now legally obligated to draw tam as obscure collin farrell images)

[kimistorm]

[Luka X fem!Reader] Of Guitar Picks and Ladders

“Hey (y/n)!” Juleka called and you ran over to the dark haired girl.

“What’s up?” you questioned when you got close enough to her and Rose.

“We’re gonna practice tonight,” she told you, then looked at you quizzically, “you coming?”

“Of course!” you answered with a smile, “miss my favorite band? No way!”

Rose smiled, “are we really your favorite band?”

“Are you sure you’re not biased?” Juleka teased with a grin.

You sheepishly rubbed the back of your neck, “maybe a little.” Your family had been friends with the Couffaines for as long as you could remember, so it was a given that you were best friends with the Couffaine kids, Juleka and Luka. Plus, the fact that you harbored a huge crush on Luka didn’t help your case that you weren’t biased. “When do you guys think you’re going to get a gig?”

“We are going to be participating in the upcoming music festival.” Rose told you.

“What?” you gasped and looked at your two friends with wide eyes, “no way! That’s so awesome! When were you going to tell me?”

“Haha, oops.” Juleka sheepishly commented.

“Should we get going now?” Rose asked. You and Juleka nodded and the three of you walked towards the Couffaine residence.

...

“Mom I’m home!” Juleka called out as she dropped her bag onto the floor, “Rose and (y/n) are with me!”

“Okay!” Juleka’s mom replied.

“We’ve got a couple hours to kill right? We could knock out our homework.” You suggested. Unlike Juleka, you and Rose still had your bags on.

“That’s true.” She nodded and picked her bag up, “we’ll go to my room.” You and Rose nodded and followed Juleka to her room. On your way to her room, you passed by Luka’s room.

“Knock knock.” You called as you knocked on the door frame. The door was slightly ajar and you could see Luka inside.

His eyes opened and his gaze fell upon you, “hey (y/n).”

“Just wanted to say hi.” You smiled, “we’re gonna do homework before you guys practice.”

“Hey, you wanna see something cool?” he asked and beckoned you to come into his room.

“Sure.” You nodded and pushed the door open. He went to his collection of picks and pulled out one of them from it’s spot on the wall. He then put it in your hand so you could see.

You gasped, “no way.”

“Yes way.” He grinned.

“You got one of the limited edition Jagged Stone picks?” You asked as you examined the small piece of plastic, “that’s insane! How’d you get it?”

He pretended to nonchalantly shrug, “just a friend.”

“That’s so cool!” you gushed. You weren’t exactly a guitar player, but you did keep up with what was happening in the music world. If only to keep up with what Luka was talking about.

“(y/n)!” you heard your name being called, “we’re going to start our homework without you!” Rose shouted.

You blanched, Ms. Mendeleev gave some hard homework for tonight and you did not want to miss help with that. “Sorry, I’ve got to go.” You gave him back his pick, “I’ll talk to you later though!” you waved at him before you darted to Juleka’s room.

“What were you doing with my brother?” Juleka teased with a knowing look.

“He was just showing me his Jagged Stone pick.” You answered with your face buried in your bag as you looked for your homework and to hide your blush.

“What really?” Juleka gasped, “he hasn’t even shown me that!”

“Wait what?” you asked in confusion and you looked out of your bag to face her, “seriously?”

“He must really like you then.” Rose grinned.

“That’s very kind of him.” You answered nonchalantly but buried your head in your bag again.

“Does (y/n) have a crush?” Rose cooed.

“Not so loud!” you shushed her and worriedly looked at the closed door to Juleka’s room.

“So you do!” Rose squealed and you winced as she did the exact opposite of what you wanted her to do.

“I don’t!” you vehemently tried to argue back, but it wasn’t doing much good. Rose’s love radar was up and active.

“And it’s on my brother.” Juleka looked at you in shock.

“No, no, it’s not.” You desperately tried to calm the situation down.

Juleka smiled, “we’re totally setting the two of you up.”

“Please don’t.” You hid your face in your hands.

“You guys would be so cute together!” Rose gushed.

“Guys.” You whined, “don’t we have homework to do?”

“Nu-uh, this is more important.” Juleka replied and shoved all of your books and notes aside.

You groaned and fell onto the ground, “why? Ms. Mendeleev will be furious if we don’t do our homework! And you have practice later today.”

“She has a point.” Juleka nodded and Rose sullenly agreed.

“But don’t think we’re forgetting about this!” Rose brightened up. You just groaned.

...

“I just realized something,” Luka sat down next to you.

“Huh?” you asked him dumbfounded, had he already figured out that you had a massive crush on him? You had only come to terms with it a couple hours ago.

“You always come to our practices.” He remarked thoughtfully.

You silently let out a sigh of relief, but then resisted the urge to hit the black and blue haired boy. He just now realized that? “Well of course I do. You guys are my favorite band! So I’m going to show my support!” you grinned.

“Your favorite band?” he looked down at you dubiously but you could tell he was laughing on the inside, “and there’s nothing biased about that statement.”

“Juleka said the exact same thing.” You whined, “maybe it’s a little biased.”

“A lot biased!” Rose shouted with a grin. Your eyes widened and you glared at her with your hand up to your neck in the universal sign that you were going to kill her when this entire thing was done.

He laughed as he clearly saw the sign you gave Rose, “well anyways. I’m glad to have you here supporting us.” He stood up, “I should go help set up. Talk to you later.” He waved.

As soon as he was out of earshot you turned to Rose, “Rose I’m going to kill you!”

“What why?” she asked in shock, “I haven’t done anything yet!”

“(y/n)! I need your help!” Juleka called. You ran over to her, “can you help hang this up?” she handed you a roll of streamers.

“Why do you need this up?” you asked and held it up.

“Because of the aesthetic.” She answered simply then patted the ladder next to you.

You sighed, you still didn’t understand but she knew what she was doing. You climbed onto the steps of the ladder as she held the ladder. You were starting to tape up the streamers when the ladder suddenly shook and you lost balance and fell off the ladder. You screamed and shut your eyes in preparation to his the ground when you realized you didn’t hit anything hard, but you had stopped falling. You opened up an eye and was met with blue. “Oh, hi Luka.” You stuttered.

He let you down back on your feet, “you should be more careful, you could’ve died.” He lectured.

“Blame Juleka, she was the one holding the ladder.” You muttered as you glared at said person. Said person just gave you a grin and waved.

“I guess you could say she fell for you!” Rose called from across the room.

You spun around and was about to really kill Rose when Luka laughed, “I can’t disagree with that.”

“In more ways than one.” You mumbled but then clasped your hands over your mouth in shock.

“You,” Luka looked at you in shock, “like me?”

“Of course I do,” you tried to wave off your blunder, “who wouldn’t like you? You’re totally awesome!”

“She like-likes you!” Rose yelled out again.

You felt your eye twitch as you continued to smile at Luka. Rose was really asking for it. “That’s good.” Luka smiled and the atmosphere seemed to have softened, “because I like-like you too.”

“Huh?” your jaw dropped, were you hearing things correctly?

“That was lame,” he sighed, “I really like you too.” He told you.

“Uh, me too.” You stuttered. You were mentally berating yourself, normally you were fine around Luka, but now you suddenly have a frog in your mouth?

“So you won’t mind if I…” he trailed off and leant down to capture your lips in a kiss. Once you realized what was happening, you stood up on your tiptoes to meet him halfway.

“No, I don’t mind.” You smiled. The two of you stood there for awhile. Foreheads touching and arms wrapped around each other. You suddenly broke off when you heard cheering though. Mainly from Rose. “Do you mind if I go kill her?” you asked softly.

“She’s our lead singer. I can’t let you do that.” He answered equally soft.

“Shame.” He laughed and captured your lips in another kiss.

[dreamrecorder]

Ok so- idk if you’ve seen demon slayer;; but there’s this episode (it was during the spider fambam arc) aNywaYs- so like. Rui yeets ties* (i guess-) Nezuko like. Up in the air. With his weird spider thread jazz— and like. It’s sHarP weird spider thread jazz— so she’s like. Yknow. Being sliced and diced with string— but it kindaaa reminds me of like. Xiao. And his like.... weird... sad.... uh. Karma. Thing. Like y’know where he’s like hanging from his arms- red stuff. Yeah. So like. Now for the actual request

Xiao’s s/o (female if you don’t mind;;) gets kidnapped by like— the fatui or smth. And they tie her up like Nezuko :D to be like “lol haha Xiao be all like-” and she’s just. Like. Dying. Slowly. Dripping b l o o d and yknow. All the tea. And Xiao comes to rescue her— and he’s like 0-0 “wait...” and he realizes that’s like- exactly what happens to him- and so. He beats the fatui’s butts saves his s/o, anddddd she like.

Idk. This is where I need your angst expertise ❤️ like- she could d i e. In his arms. And poor Xiao would be so scarred omg poor thing- BUT THE ANGST- but at the same time;;;; the f l u f f of him being able to save her just in time and she was like fighting for him the whole time or whatever and ended up needing him to save her anyways- and then Xiao feeding her almond tofu until she gets better ❤️❤️❤️

IM SORRY THAT WAS SO LONG- im probably going crazy from lack of sleep from reading fics for too long sndndnsnsj

But if you do this,,, BLESS YOUR SOUL I HOPE TO EITHER BALL MY EYES OUT OR SQUEAL FROM THE WHOLESOMENESS-

Anyways.... thank you! Have a stellar day~ ✨❤️

The heart yearns and the wind heard

lmao this ask is so adorable i hope you’d enjoy this ksks

anyway, full Angst train up ahead but there are moments of Fluff too. There are mentions of blood and violence if those are not your thing- dont worry guys, this goes with a happy ending cos you and Xiao deserve one~ on a final note- non canon compliant and suuuuuuper long- like- legit this is very long

The Yaksha sighs.

He’s here again. His mind and heart has returned his being into this crimson world his demons have created within him.

He feels it. He feels the corruption binding him tighter again for every death he brings by his tainted hands.

He looks at his bindings. And ever so slowly, the red and black coiling around his person will eventually reach his heart.

One day, he thinks, all this crimson and black in this world will swallow him whole and he will see the light no more.

Xiao sighs again.

This is his karmic debt.

~

The moment you stepped foot within Wangshu Inn, you knew he was in his prison again. After giving a quick greeting to the inn keeper, you hastily went to Xiao’s room. The closer you got, the heavier the atmosphere became.

You reached his door and knocked softly. As expected, no reply as he continues to struggle to take back his control over himself. Without hesitation, you stepped in. To anyone else, they would have instantly met his spear at their throats, but with you, this doesn’t happen. Instead, you see him crouched on the wooden floor with a hand on his chest. His knuckles were white and his breathing was ragged. His amber eyes- lost. Observing his form, yes… his moments of corruption are becoming progressively worse.

With swift steps of familiarity to this routine, you went to him and grasped his shoulders.

“Xiao, it’s me…” You whispered with clarity. And oh- how your voice brought a wave of comfort to his soul.

“N-name…” His voice cracked, but him calling to you is always a good sign.

You gave him a small smile and proceeded to grasp his hands together with yours. After which, you then leaned your forehead to his to chant your prayers. As your prayers progressed, slowly but surely, the corruption begins to fade along with the black mist that covered him. However, you took note how this ritual took longer than the last.

Once everything is done, Xiao just slumped onto your shoulders, still breathing deeply. “How are you feeling?” It was a useless question you asked every time this happens, but you always, always, have to make sure.

Usually, he would mutter a small ‘fine,’ but now- words seemed to have left his mind and all he could muster was an almost-unnoticeable shrug.

Truth be told- his response disheartened you, but you did not show it. Instead, you opted to simply encase him in your arms and caress his hair. After all, these are just one of the few, rare moments Xiao would leave himself into your care. Xiao is aware, himself, that his state has been becoming worse and worse. And you both know, that a day would come when he would just attack anyone- friend or foe- without a trace of hesitation. So, just this time- he speaks his feelings.

“Name?”

You answered immediately with a questioning hum.

“What would you do… when I finally lose control over myself?”

It was very subtle, but he felt how your hand stopped caressing his hair for a second, then proceeded to the previous task at hand again. In all honestly, you can never find yourself having an answer to that question. “And why would I ever let that happen to you?” You questioned back, fully aware that you were dodging his question.

Silence surrounded the two of you, unsure on what to do with the sudden heavier atmosphere.

Not wanting to face the cruelty of the world yet, Xiao simply buried himself on the crook of your neck even more. And despite the ghostly sensation of his lips on your skin, you could feel him mouth the words ‘I love you.’

“As long as I’m here,” you whispered, “nothing can hurt you.” And that was the most beautiful lie that the Yaksha has heard, but he was willing to believe all the same.

~

When word about Fatui diplomats starting a bank reached you, there was a nagging feeling in your head that trouble would bring itself present anytime soon. It was like an itch that wouldn’t get away. And the only way to have that itch gone is to scratch it.

“You are absolutely a fool.” Xiao stated darkly with crossed arms, for once disagreeing with the plans of his master.

“We can never know what their intentions are unless we let them start their bank, no?” Zhongli said as he gazed at the marsh spread beneath him.

The Yaksha only scoffed but said no more.

Building up your courage, you deemed it was your turn to voice out your thoughts, “Um… Rex Lapis, I see your point, but wouldn’t it be best to resolve the problem before it persists into something larger? We all know- All of Teyvat knows, that the Fatui are not to be trusted.”

Your archon offered you a kind smile, “I understand your worries, Name. However, as of the moment, they have not presented themselves as such. If they truly are our enemies, then it would be beneficial for us to know their intentions.”

You frowned deeply at his statement. Seeing you do so, somehow, your archon immediately identified your main concern.

“Is this about the Tianquan assigning you to be her representative for the Fatui?”

The moment those words left his mouth, a growl tore from Xiao’s throat, but he held his tongue.

“Did Ganyu tell you?”

The Archon nodded and you sighed.

“I volunteered, actually.”

And at that point, Xiao vanished into thin hair, but you could still his sense his presence around.

“May I know why?” Zhongli questioned gently.

For a moment, you struggled for words. You didn’t know how to describe this ‘itch’ to him. “At first, it was supposed to be Ganyu, since in the Tianquan’s eyes- Ganyu is an adeptus and she does not know that I am, too. Perhaps she didn’t want to put me in harm’s way, a ‘visionless human’ at the side of a harbinger. After some convincing to Ningguang for my volunteering, I spoke to Ganyu next.

“The adepti are divine beings that walk here in Liyue. I had this feeling that putting a divine next to a power-hungry harbinger would become an issue. I told Ganyu that, since I looked ‘harmless’ and ‘ordinary,’ the harbinger’s interest about the divine would never surface.”

A stretch of silence wrapped around them as Zhongli pondered over your words. “Perhaps, are you also planning to dig out the truth of their arrival?”

You nodded, “I knew you would allow them to stay, so I just took it upon myself to unfurl their secrets.”

“Hmmm… I grant you permission on doing this. However, should trouble arise, do not hesitate to tell us.”

~

The glare pointed at you was strong. Even without him saying a single word, you could hear his phantom voice in your head speak with such coldness, What are you thinking?

You simply gave him a reassuring smile, “I’ll be fine, Xiao. I may be a human in mortal eyes, but please do remember that I am also an adeptus, no matter how weak I am.”

Xiao releases a huff, but still sits by your side at the floor of the balcony, letting the moon kiss his skin. “You’re not weak.” He mumbled as he snaked his hand to yours.

To him, you will never be weak. In fact, you were the strongest being he has ever laid his eyes on. Not physically, no. It was you mental and emotional fortitude. Back during the Archon War, he always admired how you kept your head held up high no matter the suffering you have experienced. No matter how much death surrounded you, you still fought. And that strength made you a survivor. During the war, you never failed to help the wounded. Even when someone dies under your care, you held strong for the departed and for those who are left behind. You were a pillar of hope.

He brings your hand to his lips and kisses every knuckle “… Just be careful. If ever you are in trouble do not-“

“Hesitate to call your name.” You finished, beaming at his words.

~

As someone who used to be a healer and a doctor, you were quite familiar with several mild skin diseases that mortals can suffer from.

If there is an itch, you do not scratch it- for you will only aggravate the area even more.

Now that you’re working alongside the Fatui as the Tianquan’s representative, the itch you kept feeling was only irritated more. Especially whenever you spoke with the Harbinger who goes by the name Childe. And since your work requires you to cooperate with him, you also don’t miss the chance to discover what he hides, should the opportunity presents itself.

Childe… his azure eyes certainly have their… charm to those unaware. However, you knew better. You know he’s capable of drowning you just by his eyes. While he may be a cheerful man, his eyes lack the lustre of joy. The eyes are the windows of the soul, yes? If so, all you see is an unending ocean that you do not want to swim in. The surface may be calm, but the deep is relentless. However, duty bound you are- deep within the ocean, you shall find the secrets the Fatui hides.

Again, another scratch to the itch, but it only irritates you more.

~ 

The news of Rex Lapis’s death became the catalyst of you confronting the Harbinger. From Yujeng Terrace all the way to Northland Bank, you ran (with Ningguang’s permission of course). Before you can even open the door to his office, something caught your eye.

It’s faint, but you’re an adeptus. You sensed elemental traces, just smack bang at the middle of the door. You carefully scrutinized the tracings, and fortunately you knew Snezhnayan script. And what you read only made your heart sink.

It’s ready.

With the adeptal arts, you managed to uncover the origins of these elemental tracings.

Scratch.

Without hesitation, you followed these tracings until it led you into some ruins.

Scratch.

Following the tracings further, you find yourself in a dimly lit room. Wary, you summoned your weapon imbued with your element.

Scratch.

Searching the room, you came across several antique boxes. You opened them.

Scratch.

What you saw were familiar. Too familiar. Dimming the room more with your element, you find more Sigils of Permission hanging on the walls and on the ceilings. The energy within them were faint, but with enough numbers, it’s enough to kill a-

“Well, well well, I thought you’d be there mourning for your Archon. But here you are, snooping around someone else’s research material.”

The sound of his voice made you sharply turn your head to him, your stance now more offensive. “What are you planning?” You bit coldly.

The Harbinger hummed a small tune, “Nothing much… But! If you’re really curious, I guess I could tell you.” He hummed some more but you knew he’s not finished. Once he finished his tune, he grinned to you menacingly and the depths in his eyes became even deeper and darker, “After all, I won’t let you leave this place with you knowing my secret~”

~

There was this one time, Xiao struggled against himself so much, he scratched himself red so that he could anchor himself back to the real world. You remembered how much you cried as he slept in your arms. You never wanted to see him do that again. Seeing him hurt himself also hurt you, too. It was like a stab in the heart, then a twist, and twist some more. A slap in the reality that you might lose him one day.

As he slept, you solemnly observed the wounds he sustained himself to. They were angry red, just like blood.

Now, you, yourself scratched that itch in your head too much into a wound for blood to seep through. You scratched too much and now you have to bleed from it.

~

You were slipping in and out of consciousness. Sleep was tempting you more and more but you know you have to wake up. You were aware that this is going on for days.

Everything hurts. You remembered how his blades, imbued with the Sigils, weakened you thoroughly. Every slash he brought to your body just drained the energy away from you. But still you had to do something.

He wanted an adeptus- he wanted an adeptus in order for the Sigils to grow stronger both in number and in power.

Now here you are, bound by chains and suspended at the middle of this empty room. These chains were adorned by talismans that drained away your energy. You were bleeding from your wounds of your previous battle.

Drip. Drip. Drip goes the blood and pools on the ground underneath you. The ground, you barely noticed, was lined by Liyuean script which enacts the ritual of the Sigils draining your divine power from your blood.

To the eyes of a sadist- you were a picture perfect in a canvas. A dark room lined by the damned Sigils, glowing an eerie gold. Then there's you with your bloodied clothes and chains. The red pool underneath was casting a red glow on your way, giving you a red shade to your pale skin.

Everything hurts-

And everything was driving you mad.

You can also feel the Overlord of the Vortex feed from your energy through the Sigils. You sensed his lust for power and revenge. You felt his anger and the corruption within him. You felt his hatred and his want to bring death. For days that felt like years, you’ve been battling against that very same god in your head. This battle was not something you shall not lose to and failure is not an option. If you fail here, then Liyue will fall. 

This god- he was driving you mad slowly.

If ever you are in trouble, do not hesitate to call my-

You shut the thought from your head. You are not going to call him. You will not speak of him. You will not think of him. You will not call him. Not to this place where his corruption will grow. No. You Will Not Call Him.

If it means that me not calling you will keep you safe from the corrupted remnant of a god- so be it. 

Please

However, no matter how much you denied yourself to call his name, no matter how much your heart yearns to be with him- the wind does not ignore the pained sob that left your lips.

~

Ever since the news of Rex Lapis's death and the visit of the Traveler with a Sigil in his hand- the corruption within him just bloomed into something feral.

The Sigil- there was something wrong about it but Xiao doesn't know what is it that is wrong. Then there's you- where are you? Surely with the news of their Archon's death- it would send you to bring forth a meeting for the adepti to talk this over. But now- for days- you remain not by his side.

With you missing- the demons inside him are slowly taking control over him, taking advantage of his vulnerability for you. For each passing day, it was slow torture for him- The worry bubbling in him was consuming him. He glared at the Sigil between his fingers and not failing to notice how his dark aura covers him once more. 

“Traveler,” Xiao called sharply, “What is it you intend to do next?” 

To any mere mortal, the look his eyes held were enough to strike fear, but the Traveler stealed themselves- meeting the adeptus’s gaze with an equally serious calm. “I have my suspicions on a certain harbinger and I-”

“Where?” The Yaksha growled.

“In the Golden House.”

Without a word nor warning, Xiao placed a hand on the Traveler’s shoulder and teleported them to the place where the Exuvia is hidden.

To the Traveler, everything happened so quickly as one event led to another. One moment, they were standing among unconscious bodies of the Millelith then the next thing they knew a corrupted and demonic gust of wind flew them away to the side. Regaining back their vision, they could see Alatus’s spear now at Tartaglia’s barrier made of Sigils. 

Alatus narrowed his eyes at the floating talismans and began to calculate the flow of this incoming battle with precision and accuracy despite his losing control over himself. 

It was a tense minute of sizing each other up, but eventually, Tartaglia has broken the silence with his annoying innocent voice. 

“Who would have thought that I’d have the honor of fighting another adeptus of Liyue?” 

The question immediately fed the corruption within him, the dark aura exploding at it. He knew that he should not believe in the Harbinger’s words so easily, but the glint in the latter’s eyes held truth. You could be out there, hurting, scared, alone. You could be out there, bleeding out. You could be out there dyi-

His aura exploded once more at the thoughts spreading in his being. With a burst of unspeakable power, Alatus lifted his weapon and pierced the barrier once more, this time breaking it without failure. At the threat, Tartaglia backed away as he donned his mask.

In a similar fashion, Alatus, too donned his mask. “I will ask you once,” the Conqueror of Demons spoke with a deathly calm, “Where is she?”

~

He should have killed him then and there. But the call of the Overlord of the Vortex must not be ignored as it threatens Liyue. 

In the small opportunity of escape, Childe took it. But he was weak and injured as Alatus swiftly threw his spear to block his way and teleported right in front of him. In a show of power, the Conqueror of Demons lifted the mortal by the neck.

“I will ask you again, where is she?”

In fear, Childe told him everything and at his every word, Xiao listened carefully- never speaking once. But the anger within his heart, it boils- it rages. His amber eyes bored into Childe’s soul- thinking what he should do to this mortal. Oh how killing him would be so nice. However, when the Yaksha’s gaze landed on the regal form of the Exuvia, he merely threw the mortal in its way.

“Killing you would have been easier. However, the crimes you have presented against Liyue are not mine for me to judge.

I leave the Harbinger to you... Rex Lapis.”

Once out of the Golden House, the Overlord roared once more, shaking the lands of the nation. However, along with it, he heard the faintest of voices. I’m so sorry... I couldn’t hold him back anymore. 

Only then did the demons in his heart freely took control of him. Just like the stories of old, where the Yaksha walks, death follows. But they were no stories. In his way towards the ruins where you were held captive, every step he took brought carnage and even more death and blood to taint his hands. No Fatui will leave this place alive. The very being of destruction ended many lives. Each death, the demons were growing stronger.

All he wanted now was to kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill killkillkill killkill kill killkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkill

Then seeing you suspended in the ceiling and bound by chains. Blood was painted on your lifeless skin. Wounds were littered and bruises were blooming on your form. But most of all, your eyes. What were once full of life and hope- now empty and blank. His demons quieted down.

Broken. You were like a broken porcelain doll.

“N-name...” His voice cracked, not believing it all.

With haste, he quickly broke your binds and caught you in his arms. he was fast to check for your pulse and your breathing. And thank the Archons, you were breathing but barely. You were now walking the line between life and death. With all his might yet a gentle caress, he hugged you for dear life. “Name... It’s me...”

But still, your eyes still held no recognition and it shattered his heart to pieces. With further inspection, he sensed the presence within you. A corruption. A certain evil. 

“Name, stay with me please,” Xiao begged with desperation as he fought back tears. “It’s me who supposed to be the corrupted one between us, not you... I’m not allowing you to leave me, you hear me-”

With a ritual of the adeptal arts, he started purging and purifying the evil left by the god who fed from you. He is not letting you stay alone in your prison, not for a second longer. 

Xiao prays and he never prayed before. Even to his master. But just this once, He prays with desperation. You are the light in his darkness. You are the moon in his night. 

The ritual was a delicate process. For every word he spoke, he was rewarded by your screams of pain and the writhing of your fragile body. He wanted to stop, but he can’t. He had to physically restrain you from trying to escape from his embrace and from hurting yourself. And for every cry you released, Xiao merely shuts his eyes clos just for him not to see your pained eyes. Every now and then, Xiao speaks gentle apologies and words of encouragement for you. You were coming back. But still, the evil persists.

You writhed and scratched against him, until you were creating more wounds for blood to seep through. When it came to a point, you began pleading and begging for him to stop, that was when Xiao had shed a tear. So he continues the ritual, his prayers, and his apologies. They were arriving to a point where the ritual is reaching its conclusion but your screams only grew louder.

Please, just a little more...

Please, just stop...

Please...

The corruption disintegrated away from you in a forceful release of dark energy. He was breathing deeply, attempting to calm his loud heart. When he placed his gaze on you, you were breathing rapidly and your eyes were searching blindly and your hands were desperately holding onto him.

“X-Xiao...” You whispered, “Where am I? Where are you?”

With a sigh of relief, the Yaksha hugged you again closer and his forehead to yours, fearing you would go away again. The action made you lift your hands to his face, still searching blindly.

“I’m here, Name... I’m here.” At his voice, the dam in your eyes broke as you cried silently. Xiao was not adept in emotions, but for you, he will face them gladly. He lets you cry as he gives you soft whispers of assurance, safety, love, and promises. However, you were not crying because of what had happened to you. You were crying for him. After experiencing such corruption-

You sobbed some more- you were this close to him losing you and you could not bring yourself to imagine if your roles were reversed.

“P-please,” you said with a broken voice, “please don’t go to the place where I can’t follow...’

The words, at first puzzled him, but after a few moments, he realized and once more it broke his heart. Bringing you closer, Xiao let loose the tears he was holding back. With a gentleness unexpected of the Conqueror, he simply littered your face with kisses. “I promise if only you would do the same.”

With your smile that he loved dearly for so long you too spoke your promise, “I do.” They were simply two words, but the comfort they bring into the Yaksha’s heart was in volumes.

After that, you shared a few tender moments in each other’s arms. Simply relishing the feeling of their familiar warmth. A little later, Xiao spoke, “Would you like to eat some Almond Tofu once we get home?”

The question made you giggle at his innocence, so you agreed. Despite you needing physical medical attention. But Almond Tofu with him? Yes, you two definitely need some emotional healing.

A/N: fINALLY dONE lmao this was supposed to be short but angst really makes me want to write longer everytime haha~ anyway this request really made me ponder bout genshin stuff with all the corruption this and corruption that but then a question popped up like-

how did childe replicate the sigil of permission? since sigils are imbued with divine energy, i just thought how did this guy accumulate so much sigils to the point of freeing Osial- a god!!! soooo i just played with the idea for a bit then figured out maybe these pieces of paper get the divine energy from a divine source right? and the adepti are divine beings of liyue and another thing- you guys might have noticed the change of names in some scenes- i dont know but i think somehow different names represents different side of a person like- we have childe the cheerful harbinger then tartaglia the power hungry harbinger- there’s Alatus who’s calculating and cold, there’s the Conqueror of Demons who’s ruthless and unforgiving, then Xiao who is calm and humane- lastlyyyyy i might post this in ao3 ksks

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

The Long Con Part Nine

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part Pairing: Marcus Pike x Reader Rating: T Notes: I hope y’all had a good week! 💕 Warnings: Cursing, fluff, me pretending that I know literally anything about art history or art forgery— again. Summary: You wound up spending much of the day holed up in Marcus’ room, sitting at his desk with the numerous print-outs, a marker, a notebook, and his laptop. 

You offered to help Marcus with the wedding errands that needed to be done, but he could see how distracted you were by the print-outs he’d been able to get of the x-rays and craquelure of Leda and the Swan. He shook his head, nodding to where you’d already set up shop at his desk. “Don’t worry about wedding stuff today,” He reassured, smiling. Then he tipped your head up for a quick peck and left.

You wound up spending much of the day holed up in Marcus’ room, sitting at his desk with the numerous print-outs, a marker, a notebook, and his laptop. You looked for comparisons between the x-rays of the Mona Lisa, Da Vinci’s sketches of Leda, and the other reproductions that you were more familiar with. Jill actually had to come up and draw you out of the room by taking Marcus’ laptop charging cord hostage. 

When Marcus returned that evening, he found you folding programs with laser focus. 

“Having fun?” He teased, settling down beside you on the floor. You were leaning back against the couch, as you had when you and Marcus had been putting the favors together. 

“Mhm,” You hummed lightly, peering down at the program and lining up the corners of the paper before smoothing down the middle. Marcus picked up an unfolded program, beginning to fold them as you did. 

“How were um-- Errands, how’d they… You know?” You asked absently. “They were fine. Tuxes have been acquired, venue’s got the final headcount, seating chart and favors, photographer’s got the shot list.” “Has Marnie called the hotel they’re staying at and found out if there was an upgrade available?” You glanced at Marcus, “Might be able to get something if she mentions it’s her wedding weekend.” Marcus’ brows rose. “I don’t think she has, but I’ll find out.” “Should probably check in with wherever the rehearsal dinner is being held, too,” You added, turning back to the programs. “I’ll keep that in mind...Are you okay?” Marcus asked as you dropped another folded program atop the pile. “Mhm.” “Hey,” Marcus reached out, setting his hand on your arm. You glanced over at him. “S’wrong?” “You seem a little tense,” He scooched closer, thigh pressing against yours, “I can take over program folding,” He added. “She’s mad at me,” Jill called from the kitchen. “I am not mad!” You called back. “What happened?” Marcus frowned, glancing between the two of you. Jill came into the living room, leaning over the back of the couch and peering down at the two of you. “I made her come out from hunching over those photos that you printed out this morning,” She told Marcus as you pointedly folded another program. Busted. “How long were you in there?” Marcus asked, rubbing his hand over the back of your neck gently. “Since you left. I only got the damn cord away from her half an hour ago,” Jill answered, pushing off of the couch, “Speakin’a which, you hungry, Marky?” You snickered, muttering, “Marky.” “No thanks, mom.” “What about you, honey?” “No thank you, Jill,” You glanced back, offering her a smile before dropping another program atop the pile. Marcus watched her go before he leaned a little closer. “Were you able to work anything out?” He asked, picking up another page. “Nothing substantive,” You grumbled, folding the page and setting it aside. Marcus set his on the pile before he drew you into his chest. You pouted a little, slouching against him as you reached for the next page. “You know I’ve got the team working on this, too, right? And the team working out of the Louvre.” “I know,” You mumbled. “So relax,” Marcus murmured, turning his head and pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m incredibly relaxed. I’m also very focused on folding these programs.” “Sweetheart, programs do not need to be that perfect.” 

“Agree to disagree.” You felt Marcus’ fingers tuck under your chin and turn your head to look at him. You paused in your folding, blinking up at him. “You sure you’re alright?” He asked gently. You were not— but what was one more lie in this house? “Yeah,” You murmured before you leaned up, taking a chance and pecking Marcus’ lips. You felt him smile as he cupped your cheek, keeping you close as he deepened the kiss. You sighed, relaxing a little more and resting a hand on his thigh. As the kiss broke, you rested your head against his neck, closing your eyes as Marcus rubbed his hand over your shoulder. “...Feel better?” He asked quietly. “I think so.” “I can do that anytime,” He added after a moment, and you smiled, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

-- “You still doing that?” Marcus asked. “Hm?” You glanced back at him, catching sight of him in his pajamas. Jill had relinquished the laptop cord shortly after dinner, and Marcus had freed you of program-folding duty. “What...Time is it?” You asked, frowning. “It’s a little after midnight,” Marcus walked over to stand behind you, bracing his hands on the back of your chair and looking over your work, “You comin’ to bed?” You knew that you should— it had been a long day (after Jill had finally ceded the charging cord), and you were a bit tired. “Uh… N--No, not yet—” “C’mon,” Marcus murmured, leaning down and wrapping his arms around your shoulders, “You need to get some sleep.” “I know, I’m gonna, I just— I think I’m really close to something here,” You admitted, looking up at Marcus, “I wanna chase it down. I’ll take it into the living room so the light doesn’t keep you up,” You added, starting to gather up some of the materials. “If you’re sure,” Marcus conceded softly, “But get some sleep, huh?” “I will.” “Promise?” You glanced up at Marcus, smiling. “Promise.” He nodded, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your forehead before heading to bed. 

-- 

You leaned away from the markups on the coffee table, dropping your marker with a shaky hand. 

You’d made a call to where she’d been sent, and found out she had had her sentence shortened. She’d been out for nearly three years— she’d missed parole; there was a warrant out for her arrest. You hadn’t wanted to believe it was her work, you hadn’t, but you’d found the messages she always left. One was in the x-rayed under layers of the wreath of flowers around the swan’s neck: ‘Dominus ad ludere’. And then, another x-rayed layer, within one of the grey layers of the painting, near the darkened fold of the swan’s wing: ‘Ad opus domini’. The master at play, the master at work.  The lettering was small, difficult to spot, but you knew that handwriting, and you knew exactly where to look. You couldn’t help the sick, twisting feeling in your stomach as you picked up your phone. You grabbed your notebook where you’d jotted down your notes on the sketches and brushstrokes, the notes that she’d left behind, and you hurried out to the porch. You sat on the porch swing, peering out into the dark and settling your notebook on your lap. You tucked the phone against your ear, listening as it rang. “Special Agent Melinda Yuen,” Came the answer when the phone was picked up. You were fond of Marcus’ colleague; aside from Marcus, she was who you’d worked the closest with. “Hi, Mel, it’s me,” You said quietly, glancing toward the door. “Hey, professor! How ya been?” “Fine,” You smiled a little at her question, “You?” “I’m alright. If you’re calling looking for Marcus—” “No, I… I wanted to talk to you. Marcus sent me some of the stuff from that da Vinci picked up in Orléans. I took a look at it, it’s definitely not authentic.” “You got notes?” “You have a pen? I’m going to tell you exactly where to look.” You listed off the points and layers that you were able to identify, as well as the suspect for her to look into. Melinda went quiet on the other end for a moment. “Professor, isn’t that your grandm—” “Yes,” You answered hurriedly, “It is.” “...Shit.” “My feelings exactly— Look, Mel, I’ve gotta ask you a favor.” “Sure.” “Don’t...Don’t tell Marcus who called this in until he’s back in D.C.” “Why not?” “Just, please?” You pleaded softly, glancing toward the door. “...I don’t know, professor—” “I’m not asking you to keep it from him forever, just-- Couple’a days.”

“Alright,” Melinda sighed softly, before, “How do you know when he’ll be back, anyway?” “Oh, he uh— mentioned he was going to his sister’s wedding. I don’t wanna ruin his weekend, you know. Figured if I got you on the first ring on this number he must be down there, ‘specially with this big of a case in the office,” You fibbed quickly. “You figure correctly,” Melinda chuckled, “I’ll get these notes over to the team. Night, professor.” “Night, Mel, and thanks.” “Hey, thank you.” You lowered your phone, hanging it up and peering out over the backyard again. You sighed softly, pushing the swing back and forth with one foot. “Can’t sleep?” You jumped at the sound of the question, huffing a shaky laugh at the sight of Marnie. “No,” You confirmed, “What about you?” “Nope,” Marnie sighed, walking over to sit beside you, “I was working on my vows.” “Big speech-writing day in the Pike household,” You teased. “That Marcus’?” Marnie nodded to your notebook. “O-Oh! No. Some uh… Stuff on that painting. Inconsistencies, little things,” You set the notebook down between the two of them, giving Marnie the option to pick it up. She left it be, giving you a little bit of relief in what had been a mostly hellish day. “Think it’s serious?” You shrugged, “Could be inconsequential.” You were already lying to Marnie so much, what was one more? Though, frankly, it made you feel a little crummy. You were growing very fond of Marcus’ family. They were warm, and welcoming. You’d always imagined having a family like them. “You and Marcus seem good, you know?” Marnie said, nudging your shoulder with hers, “I mean...Happy.” You smiled, lowering your eyes. “Your brother is... amazing. All of you are, I mean— I don’t know any family that would open their home to someone they don’t know for a night, let alone an entire week. And your mom— the way she pulled me out of Marcus’ room earlier,” The two of you chuckled, “Well. I’ve appreciated everything since I’ve been here, how kind you all have been.” “Oh,” Marnie reached out, patting your hand lightly, “We’re happy to. ‘Sides, Marcus is clearly smitten with you.” Your stomach churned with unease as you peered down at your hands. Marcus was a better actor than he gave himself credit for. You knew you’d make a liar out of him. “Makes two of us,” You mumbled. Damn, but that was the truth. Tag list: @hufflepuffing-all-day-long ; @spideysimpossiblegirl ; @blueeyesatnight ; @elen-aranel ; @yespolkadotkitty ; @artsymaddie ; @phoenixhalliwell ; @lunaserenade ; @winniedaboo  ; @empress-palpat1ne ; @randomness501 ; @nutmeg-20 ; @leonieb ; @the-feckless-wonder ; @lou-la-lou ; @captain-jebi ; @supernaturalgirl ; @naturenebula21 ; @evelynseventyr ; @giselatropicana ; @heatherbel ; @marydjarin ; @annathewitch ; @absurdthirst ; @hnt-escape ; @writingletterstothefire ; @misswriter ; @bison-writes ; @xx-small-town-witch-xx ; @ajeff855 ; @hellovanessax​ ; @drinkingwhileblogging​ ; @strawberryperegrine​ ; @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan​

[wizkiddx]

your song blurb

hello!! sorry ive been so inactive and I have got a number of req that I am trying to work through - I am sorry, please be as patient as you can with me. general life shit and all hasn't been ideal. I am aware I reaaallly need to update my master list and will get round to it when I can I promise ;)

also have lots of asks abt the t + z situation but all I have to say is im so very happy for them and hope people respect their privacy ;)

harryhollandxreader // friends --> lovers blurb

summary: harry never sings in front of you, until you need it

//////////////////////////

There were some things that Harry, even after being friends for years, kept close to his chest. The one that you always tried to catch him out on was his singing. For some unknown reason, he was super self conscious of it. Every time he was nonchalantly humming along to himself, all it took was for you to make a single sound, and he’d immediately lock his mouth shut. From those fleeting moments, you had thought he didn’t even sound half bad, hence where your frustrations drew.

Because whilst you, who sounded like a cat being tortured, would scream your lungs out - Harry, who wasn’t even that bad, refused to make a fool out of himself.

It was exactly what had happened this evening when you had let yourself into Tom’s house otherwise unannounced. It’d been years since you’d been given a spare key by Harry - when they were both away, you often ‘house-sat’ for Tom; plus, you spent most evenings there too because that was where your best mate was.

Tom had messaged on the group chat to say he would be out for the evening, and Haz was around his girlfriends tonight, meaning on arrival, you’d known it’d just be you and Harry. So once you heard the quiet tune of a song, that you couldn’t quite place yet, safe to say you were on stealth mode. Sliding your shoes off and wincing as the floorboards creaked a little, you slowly crept through the house to find your frizzy-haired friend.

Sure enough, as you made your way through the kitchen, you found him stood over the hob, stirring round a wooden spoon of a saucepan - presumably filled with pasta he’d promised to have ready for you. Pouting as you leaned on the doorframe and crossed your arms, marvelling at him. He was dressed just in grey joggers and his favourite pink hoodie, arms rolled up to his elbow as the poor boy slaved away at the stove.

You stayed silent, to what you now recognised as billy joel, only unable to stifle a giggle when he reached a particularly high note. Like a rabbit caught in headlights, he jumped around and yelled, eyes fiery and pointed at you.

“OH fuck off Y/n!!”

“Billy Joel, an old school choice.” You smirked, now walking into the room to greet him properly.

“How long have you been stalking on me?”

“It’s not stalking if the stalkee gave me the key.”

“I don’t think that’s admissible in court.” He deadpanned back, pouting for a couple more seconds before finally shooting you a wide grin. The boy held his arms out, welcoming you into a proper greeting hug. Happily reciprocating, you inhaled deeply with your face pressed into the crook of his shoulder.

“How was work?” He murmured, already guessing the answer correctly.

“Shit. Exhausting. Hell, you want any more adjectives?” Harry just snorted back as you leaned away from his warmth.

“Nah rule of three is quite enough. Did you never pay attention in GCSE english?”

“Fuck off you can’t even spell GCSE.”

That was always how your friendship had been; it had always been a piss-taking battle. You simply were one of the boys - or at least that’s what you thought. Said boys though (meaning Sam, Tom, Harrison, Tuwaine and even Paddy) disagreed. You didn’t know, or didn’t believe, that Harry did NOT treat you like one of the boys. He cared about you differently, too. Tom thought it didn’t stop there, that Harry did in fact love you.

And yes, you might’ve admitted to Harrison on one very, very drunken night that you had occasionally thought of Harry as something more than your sarky friend. He had been since sworn to silence, though Haz had in fact, told Tom - who only replied with an ‘i told you so’.

Even though everyone else saw your relationship as complicated, to you and Harry it was just simple. You were just the best of friends.

And that’s how the evening went. The two of you were just messing around as usual; after eating the tomatoey pasta creation Harry had tried, you both made a right mess of the washing up - water ending up coating the floor and maybe one of the walls too (Tom would never know). And just like usual, it ended with you sprawled out on one sofa, Harry mirroring you on the adjacent one.

It was love island season, which meant every night at 9 pm there was only one place on earth either of you would be. On your respective sofas, watching the most trashy tv in the world.

Tonight though, no matter how excited you were for the next instalment of who-likes-who, your day of work caught up with you. Not that you noticed, but you’d pretty much passed out as soon as the opening scenes started. There were only two minutes of silence before Harry registered something was up - typically, he was trying to make you shut up so he could actually hear the TV. To investigate, he jumped off the sofa and leaned over the couch, the sight making him pout.

He knew work had been super stressful recently; and he also knew that your insomnia had been coming back with a vengeance. So instead of treating you like ‘one of the boys’ and throwing things until you woke up - Harry used a different approach. He draped the blanket that hung off the side of the sofa over you, biting back a slight smile as you huffed in appreciation for the soft quilt. Then Harry left you alone, knowing you could do with every little bit of rest you could get.

That was all good until it reached the third set of adverts when Harry heard you huff and move about on the sofa. And then again and again. Then again with what sounded like a bit of whimper too.

Brows furrowed, he paused the TV and slowly got up, rounding the sofa to see you somewhat matching his expression. Your face was contorted in one of distress, and you kept thrashing your head from side to side of the pillow. It didn’t take a genius to work out; this was your nightmares rearing their ugly heads.

Harry just wanted to stop this for you. Although the two of you were never particularly ‘mushy’ or vulnerable with each other - he knew just how much you were suffering recently. So without much thought into it, Harry knelt down to sit on the floor, side leaning up against the sofa as he looked towards you. Trying to hush you, he ran his hand over your forehead and over the top of your hair, though it seemed to take little effect. And then, again entirely without hesitation, Harry started to softly sing.

It’s a little bit funny

This feeling inside

I’m not one of those who can easily hide

Why Elton John was the first that came to mind was a mystery to Harry - except maybe that the lyrics ran true a little.

And you can tell everybody

This is your song

It may be quite simple, but now that it’s done

I hope you don’t mind

I hope you don’t mind

That I put down in the words

How wonderful life is while you’re in the world

You’d always loved old 70s music, you were the one that had properly got you into all that stuff - the beatles, billy joel, elton, even a bit of springsteen. He owed half his music taste to your Spotify playlists, even if he’d never admit it to your face.

So excuse me forgetting

But these things I do

You see I’ve forgotten, if they’re green or they’re blue

Anyway the thing is, what I really mean

Yours are the sweetest eyes I’ve ever seen

With a final huff, you finally settled down, Harry swore he could see all the discomfort literally melting away from your face. It took a minute but your breath evened out, mumbling something incomprehensible as you curled up toward him on the edge of the sofa.

This wasn't the first time he’d sang to you in your sleep - and he sort of hoped it wouldn't be the last either.

feedback is really appreciated <3

harry taglist : @euphorichxlland @lovehollandy12 @pandaxnienke @msmimimerton @crossyourpeter @hallecarey1

[itsclydebitches]

RWBY Fairy Tales Recaps: “The Indecisive King”

Happy very late Thanksgiving, everyone! (If you celebrate, of course.) I meant to have this recap out weeks ago, but those celebrations have seriously cut into my writing time. However, given that it is the holidays, I am immensely pleased to report that our pattern continues: I really liked this episode.

Story number four in our series, titled “The Indecisive King,” opens on said King amid a beautifully ornate border, looking like he’s been taken directly from a storybook and placed within our screens. I mentioned during “The Grimm Child” that, from a style standpoint, I’m more enamored with RWBY: Fairy Tale’s backgrounds than I am the characters. Some designs are quite appealing overall, but the choppy movements of the characters and, in the case of our almost-shadow people, their missing body parts, makes the experience of actually watching them somewhat off-putting. In “The Indecisive King’s” case, I found the animation of the characters’ eyes to be distracting; moving in unnatural ways and suddenly going full, anime emotional between blinks:

But many of the backgrounds? Gorgeous. Really, I think I most enjoy the style when the adaptation is using Violet Tobacco’s illustrations as a starting point, rather than going full Camp Camp.

But I’m getting off track. As said, we open on this storybook King who is quickly growing tired and sickly under the weight of that Crown. Ozpin asks whether knowledge is truly capable of solving all our problems. “What happens to the moral mind when it has more knowledge than it is capable of bearing?” These are good concerns to ponder and, unlike some of the other episodes, are completely relevant to the story we’re about to see.

I also enjoyed the beginning’s structure here, wherein we see a future version of the King already buckling under whatever knowledge he’s seen. What did the Crown show him? Does he ever make a decision? Does he die from the strain the knowledge has put on him? While taking notes, I praised the adaptation for generating a number of questions that would hook the viewer... and then the episode proceeded to answer exactly none of them. We don’t learn what the King saw, we don’t know if this choice actually came to pass, if was able to decide, or what came of that. Indeed, this version of the King never comes to exist thanks to some timely intervention. I want to be clear that I don’t really intend this as a criticism. I think keeping the decision a mystery is quite compelling (and frankly helps keep the story focused on the takeaway lessons, as opposed to getting bogged down by the specifics of any particular situation), and I likewise enjoy that we got that happy ending. Thanks to the efforts of another, the King never has to reach this point.

So it’s not that I disagree with the choices here, rather I’m just acknowledging that our new beginning potentially raises expectations that are never met. Due to the opening, I was waiting for the story to tell me what the agonizing decision is, show me a fallen King, and potentially kill him off with a hard lean into the cautionary aspects of the tale. When none of that was occurring by the five minute mark, I had to mentally backtrack a bit and reevaluate what parts of the story “The Indecisive King” was prioritizing.

Nevertheless, I like this version of the tale even if it’s not what I expected. We cut to an idyllic looking castle where the King sits on his throne and listens to his peoples’ problems. We’re shown two men arguing over a tree that fell in one’s yard, destroying his fence. He argues that because the tree originated on the other man’s property, he should be responsible for fixing the fence and cleaning the mess up (which, where I’m from anyway, is precisely what’s expected). The man with the tree, however, argues that it was a storm that blew it over, so why should he be punished for an act of nature outside of his control? Given RWBY’s track record, I honestly believed for a second that the King’s solution would be some rubbish I’d end up doing a deep dive into, explaining precisely why this wasn’t actually fair in the way the show intends it to be. Instead, I love his idea! The King says that they should both work together to clear the tree, using the new wood to fix the neighbor’s fence and then, if there’s anything leftover, they’ll sell it at market and split the proceedings. In the book he also adds that a new tree should be planted in the old one’s place. With a single command, the King has solved the fence problem, helped the neighbors reconcile, did so in a way that didn’t overtly put blame on either party - which is frankly what they both seemed to expect, similar to the animal and human expectations seen in “The Judgment of Faunus” - and may have even earned them a bit of extra money to boot.

Well done, RWBY. You wanted a King who is known for his wise council and you’ve succeeded in making me believe that this man does, in fact, provide that.

Just as the King is about to conclude his work for the day, a disheveled woman arrives begging for an audience. The King’s advisor, despite being in the process of closing the door, simply smiles and beckons her inside which also helps sell the idea that the King is as kindly as he appears. There’s no griping about another citizen asking for help and the advisor doesn’t even need to explain the woman’s presence. She’s here, she’s distraught, that’s all that matters.

She explains succinctly that grimm destroyed her village and killed her family. She has nowhere to go and nothing to live for. The King, being the good man he is, immediately says that she should live in the castle as long as she wishes and, most importantly, she must keep on living. That’s an important bit to keep in mind for the end of the story.

It’s also worth noting that when the woman kneels down we get to see that she’s a faunus with some sort of dog-like tail. I say this is notable because this episode is coming right on the heels of our two faunus origin myths, where the suspicion and hatred between species is emphasized. Now, next myth, we see humans helping faunus and faunus helping humans, with neither side using the divide in species as a reason for or against that assistance. The King is nice to this faunus woman simply because he’s seemingly nice to everyone and, in a moment, an evil faunus will show up and enact evil because... well, that’s just what happens in fairy tales, isn’t it? Myers makes no mention of the characters’ species (that I recall, anyway), saying only that this is a “sad woman” and a man with “wild eyes,” so why the change? I can easily imagine the thought process here and normally I’d applaud it. When a text gives no specifics regarding identity, why not embrace diversity? There’s no reason why these two characters can’t be faunus... unless you consider the implications of the series as a whole. As far as I’m currently aware, RT isn’t adapting all of Myers’ stories and they’re not releasing them in the original order either. A series includes not just the specifics of each episode, but also how those episodes fit together. RWBY: Fairy Tales has ensured the viewer’s mind is focused on Remnant’s discrimination given that we just got not one, but two faunus myths last week, tackling that problem in different ways. Then the series goes on to include (new) faunus characters whose place in the story entirely ignores that conflict. Which isn’t to say that every myth with faunus in it has to revolve around the racism they suffer, just that it’s a choice to emphasize the state of Remnant through two myths and then bypass it in the next myth entirely, settling for more of a “colorblind” approach. It once again makes me wonder who, culturally, is the author of this tale. Who out there is passing down myths that seemingly include diversity for the sake of diversity?

It’s an interesting question for me because this myth includes details that I’d normally highlight as significant, but the writers don’t seem to realize that these choices carry any weight at all. For example, why is the “good” faunus given the cute dog tail that she wags when happy whereas the “bad” faunus is given not just the potentially dangerous trait (horns gouge), but also one of the most prominent animal features we’ve seen in the whole series? They’re huge.

Diversity for the sake of diversity doesn’t achieve the same things when the rest of your story says, “This specie’s interaction with this other species is significant and so is how they’re depicted.”

But I am once again getting ahead of myself. So this faunus dude shows up and it is, admittedly, not just the massive horns that mark him as someone to be wary of. He’s got the same white skin as the Chill victims in “The Grimm Child,” has his eyes hidden beneath the hood of his cloak (classic way to make a character appear suspicious), and he shows up claiming that he has a very special gift for the King just... because? As said, suspicious.

That’s actually a great way to showcase appearance bias and learned markers in media: the King being nice is taken at face value because he’s a handsome king. This guy being nice induces wariness because his appearance draws on details we’ve culturally decided are creepy.

Now, as is common for this series, Myers includes another detail that smooths things over a significant amount. In the book we’ve already established that the citizens often bring the King gifts as a means of thanking him for his sound advice, so right off the bat it’s not weird for this visitor to be offering a grand gift. We also get a bit more conversation where he stresses that he’s giving the Crown away precisely because of its unique ability. According to the visitor, the King is “the only one suited to wear it” (39). There’s even a moment where the King whispers that this is a “hard offer to refuse,” implying that there’s potentially a bit of arrogance egging the King on. Just as later he’ll believe that it’s his sole responsibility to shoulder whatever horrific choice is coming his way, right now he’s buying into the idea that yes, he is the only suited to wear such a gift.

However, none of this makes its way into the adaptation. The loss doesn’t ruin the episode by any stretch of the imagination — as a fairy tale, we’re especially primed to just go, “Okay, sure” whenever plot things happen — but Myers’ version helps sell the exchange a bit more.

As we expect, the King immediately puts the Crown on and is launched into the unspecified vision. The adaptation gets around the particulars by dropping him into a void with lots of flashing lights and screaming. It very much implies a war to me (especially given how idyllic the kingdom is presented as now), but again, we’re not supposed to know precisely what the choice is. All we know is that it’s a doozy. “No!” the King cries. “It can’t be!”

Horrified, the King removes the Crown and demands that his guards capture the faunus who brought it, but he’s already disappeared. From there, we see precisely how much that decision is weighing on him as the king grows tired and loses the confidence he formerly had in his decisions. I should note though that the adaptation does this through a single encounter, rather than describing the passing of time and giving a short montage, as the story does. I point this out because although the theme of being indecisive is glaringly obvious — it’s right there in the title — by giving us just one moment of the King’s failure, I originally thought there was something specific about this encounter that worried the King, rather than him just being indecisive overall.

To clarify, a woman comes in and explains to the King that she’s fallen for a young man, but given that he’s poor, her father doesn’t approve of the match. Should she marry for lover, or wait for stability? At first the King advises that she marry the man, as we’d expect, but just as she’s leaving he calls out and changes his mind, devastating her. As said at the start, I originally went into the episode expecting to learn what this crucial choice was, so my immediate thought here was, “What in the world does this woman’s love life have to do with a future, potential tragedy?” I figured the King changed his mind because he thought his original choice — marrying for love — might somehow lead him down the wrong road in regards to his vision. That line of thinking is on me though, not the episode. In reality, this is a micro issue as opposed to a macro one: the King simply worries that he’s making the wrong choice for her, not that this choice will have future consequences for him and the kingdom. As he says in the book, love cannot put food on the table, or shelter you. Surely waiting for a man with money is best.

The woman doesn’t think so and runs from the castle sobbing. I couldn’t help but question this because there’s an easy solution to her grief, right? Just ignore the King’s advice. I mean, advice is only advice if it comes with the understanding that you don’t have to follow it and, in a way, the King solved her dilemma unintentionally. If she was that thrilled being told to marry and that upset when told not to, she now knows precisely what she should do, regardless of what her family might think. So isn’t this a good thing?

Well, again (I remain a broken record) Myers clarifies things. We’re told at the start of the tale that anyone who seeks the King’s council must abide by a single rule: whatever he determines is what the citizens must do. So it’s not really advice everyone is getting, but royal decrees. Thanks to this detail, it makes complete sense in the book why the King is so sure that the two men will follow his instructions regarding the tree, why the woman is so devastated about being told not to marry, and why there’s now so much worry about making the wrong call. The King knows that whatever he says is what his subjects will do: “The widow had no choice but to listen to his advice” (39-40). The closest we get to this explanation in the show is the King’s advisor questionably going, “And so it is… commanded?” But “commanded” just comes across as him being overly formal in his language.

Losing these details doesn’t ruin the adaptation. As said, I did really enjoy it and I think for the average viewer with a willingness to just go with whatever the story says — a crucial difference between the “stans” and the “HTDM” — everything works just fine. I’m less concerned with RT writing stories with questions attached (that’s par for the course) than I am their inability to pick up on and maintain the crucial aspects of a story that already exists. You know how all houses have load bearing walls? It’s one thing to lack the knowledge needed to design a house with them properly in place. It’s quite another thing to be given a house with the walls already put in, make claims about how, after eight years, you definitely know what you’re doing, and then go knocking those load bearing walls out with a sledge hammer. It sounds like I’m exaggerating, but stories rely on what we might call foundational elements to be both internally consistent and allow the viewer to seamlessly follow along. Myers understands that and, for his Fairy Tales book anyway, has done the work to put in those metaphorical walls. RT’s adaptation is swinging the sledgehammer with gleeful abandon, removing many of them in the process.

Still, the fairy tale largely holds together and is, more importantly, enjoyable despite the small stumbles.

After this incident the King decides that he can no longer hold court. Instead, he calls in advisors of his own to help him solve this “impossible problem.” None of them manage it, leaving the King even more despondent than before. In time, the faunus woman grows concerned, but is unable to see the King as she is, technically, just a civilian. In Myers’ version she visits the King later when he’s gone to sit with the Crown in a locked room. Here, she just plops herself down at the back of the line, which I think is a wonderful change. These stories don’t have much room for characterization, but this woman is very much meant to be both strong willed (she survived the destruction of her family and village), as well as, soon, the advisor the King actually needs. Having her join the line is both a fantastic peek into her attitude — ‘Well I’m as wise as all these men!’ — and a fantastic bit of foreshadowing.

By the time she reaches the King night has fallen and the weight of this choice is really taking its toll. Despite living in the castle for an unspecified amount of time, the King no longer remembers who the woman is, disappointing her. As always, this tracks a little better in the original because Myers takes the time to describe the crowds that are common in the castle. Yes, we see a crowd during the young lover’s visit too, but the adaptation has many more shots where it’s just the King, the faunus woman, and the advisor, making me side-eye how in the world the King has forgotten who she was. She’s living there. 

Regardless, she asks, “Let me wear the Crown so I may understand.” Here she knows about the Crown because she was essentially spying on him, though with none of the usual, malicious intent that “spying” implies. She was up in another level of the castle looking down through a window when the faunus man arrived and those proceedings are, it seems, usually public anyway. In Myers’ story, however, the woman’s actions are a bit more dubious, wherein she follows the King down into the castle and looks through a lock while he wears the Crown, believing himself to be unobserved. The locks and sneaking aside, it’s pretty clear he values his privacy in this. He’s looking around suspiciously before encountering her and when he does spot her, he gets very angry:

The door flew open. The King’s face was contorted with rage. He seized her arm. “Who are you? What are you doing here?” He called out to the hallway, “Guards!” The widow raised a hand protectively (42).

I’m not going to lie, the yelling, grabbing her arm, and raising a hand “protectively” all set off a slew of alarm bells. The woman is clearly expecting the King to hit her, though whether that tells us something about the King, or her past husband, we just don’t know enough to say. The point is, in one instance the knowledge comes about through happenstance, in the other she deliberately seeks it out, despite knowing that the King is working to keep it secret. Neither version is necessarily better or worse than the other, just different in terms of characterization.

What’s funny though is that here the King doesn’t react at all to that knowledge, which includes not questioning how she seems to know so much about a matter he’s now working to keep under wraps. Random woman I can’t remember knows what the Crown does and wants to try it on? Sure! Let’s run with it. The same way he ran with the creepy faunus dude offering the Crown in the first place. No time for hesitation in the seven minute short.

What follows is a legitimately nice exchange and impressively so, given how little time we’ve had to establish these characters. Putting the Crown on, the woman is gifted a future vision of the King proposing to her, a declaration she’s so excited about you can see her tail wagging a mile a minute. This moment also has another layer of meaning in the original because the King has promised “their heart’s desire” to the wise man who can offer him guidance (42). Though the King doesn’t acknowledge that the woman found his solution by offering that reward, she gets it anyway by starting this relationship. Her heart’s desire is him and it’s not hard to predict what her answer to the proposal will be.  

Though then again, perhaps that’s not true. After all, this entire fable is about how much knowing a future choice messes with you in the present, so how are we to know a similar fate won’t befall her as well? I mean, we do know because the tale ends on a happy note and confirms their eventual marriage, but imagine for a moment that you knew for sure he’d pop the question someday... and then you find it’s taking too long for that day to arrive. She’s already in love with him, but he has just admitted that he doesn’t even remember who she is. These two are at completely different points in their relationship, so imagine waiting for a future moment that you don’t just hope will happen, but 100% expect to occur. The frustration of waiting longer than you’d like might be the very thing that changes your future. The woman in the vision is thrilled at the proposal. The woman who got to see the vision is, according to the lesson, no longer that woman. Her future, by default, should be different — or at least malleable — because by seeing this vision she is changed from the woman who exists within it. She’s been given the same kind of future knowledge, yet it doesn’t have the impact on her that it does on the King.

I suppose what I’m getting at in these convoluted ramblings, beyond a hypothetical about how fixed time is, is the difference between perceived good knowledge and bad. It’s awful to wear the Crown if it’s going to show you something awful and, if you wind up in that position, just put the choice out of your mind. Knowledge is a burden. But if the Crown shows you something good, well, that’s entirely different. Then you should lean into that and look forward to your future choice. Knowledge is a comfort. The implication seems to be that nothing bad could ever come out of a good-looking peek into your future.

But that’s enough theorizing for one recap. The story concludes here, with the woman literally pulling the King into the light as she teaches him not to dwell on future events. “You must keep living,” she tells him, the exact advice he gave her when she first arrived, though here it takes on a slightly different meaning. Her advice felt quite literal to me. Dark as it is, he’s telling her that she can’t give up on living despite all she’s suffered and everything she’s lost. For the King, he’s got no problem moving forward — he’s too concerned with that momentum — but has forgotten how to live figuratively in the present. I really liked the repetition of that wisdom and the different meanings it holds for them both. Again, a surprising amount of character work for such a short tale.

Ozpin ends the story with, “And so the wise King found an even wiser Queen.” I probably could have made this entire recap clearer by referring to her as “the Queen,” but I didn’t want to give away the ending in case anyone hasn’t watched lol.

So at the very start of all this I mentioned the off-putting anime eyes, yeah? It wasn’t the only animation choice that stood out to me. Despite my overall enjoyment of the story itself, there were some details that proved unintentionally funny. The Queen, when she first arrives, is seen running up the path leading to the castle. Thing is, the movement looks like walking to me, so instead of a woman sprinting, it comes across as a woman leisurely strolling, but somehow managing to take GIANT steps that propel her forward in an unnatural way.

Also, when the king takes the Crown off he throws it just like a Frisbee. Zoom goes the priceless artifact gifted by the Gods!

Okay, I’ll end on that silly note. All in all, a far stronger showing than I think we’ve gotten from many of the other fairy tales and I’ve heard through the internet grapevine that “The Girl in the Tower” has good things to offer as well. As I mentioned before, the holidays have messed up my writing schedule a fair bit, but I’ll be diving into that episode just as soon as I can.

Until next time! 💜

[robininthelabyrinth]

Delight in Misery (ao3) - part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6

- Chapter 7 -

“Why are you covered in feathers?” Jiang Cheng asked, and then immediately afterward added, “On second thought, don’t tell me, I don’t want to know.”

Lan Wangji checked himself over and brushed off the few feathers that had ended up on his shoulder. “Are there any others?” he asked solemnly. “They might be evidence.”

Jiang Cheng’s eye twitched, as Lan Wangji had intended. “I don’t want to know,” he repeated, and Lan Wangji believed it about as much as he’d believed it the first time Jiang Cheng said it – which was to say, not at all. “I don’t want to…okay, fine, tell me.”

“You don’t want to know,” Lan Wangji informed him, and Jiang Cheng looked as though he was considering strangling him. “I will explain later. For the moment, it is best to pretend as if you know nothing.”

“I really don’t know anything,” Jiang Cheng said.

“That will make pretending easier.”

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes at him, but stopped arguing, and Lan Wangji felt warmth in his belly at the instant capitulation. All of his life experiences had conspired to make Jiang Cheng an untrusting person, suspicious almost to the point of paranoia and constantly afraid of losing everything to the unknown, and yet he chose to trust Lan Wangji without question.

“Is there anything else I should know?” Jiang Cheng asked with one of his friendlier scowls, crossing his arms over his chest. “Or not know, as the case may be?”

Lan Wangji considered for a moment. “Don’t count the number of Jiang sect disciples leaving with you,” he suggested, and Jiang Cheng’s eyebrows shot up. “Consider storming out in a fury the next time someone insults you.”

“You were right,” Jiang Cheng said. “I didn’t want to know.”

Lan Wangji heard footsteps and put his hands behind his back. “Naturally, Sect Leader Jiang is entitled to change his mind. I understand it happens often.”

Jiang Cheng’s eyes narrowed. “You must be struggling with coming out of seclusion, Hanguang-jun,” he remarked. “To come mucking around with the rest of us after spending so long on - avoiding worldly matters, let’s say.”

The sect leaders passing by sped up with expressions suggesting that they were dreadfully curious but did not want to get involved in a repeat of the fight that was rather infamously had throughout the Lotus Pier, with all of the attendant property damage (that they’d paid for later, but still).

Once they’d passed, Lan Wangji gave Jiang Cheng a look that suggested he did not appreciate the joke. Jiang Cheng appeared undeterred.

He also appeared, on closer examination, somewhat tired.

Lan Wangji frowned and stepped closer, lowering his voice. “You have not slept.”

“I’m fine,” Jiang Cheng said, and realized his mistake at once – such excess vehemence meant that he was lying, and badly, too. “It’s your fault, anyway.”

“My fault?”

“Entirely your fault. I can’t eat my lunch without wondering why you’re not plucking away on your guqin the way you normally do at that hour, I can’t finish my paperwork without trying to find you to ask for your views, I can’t sleep without hearing you making noise next door…who made you fit yourself in so well at the Lotus Pier?”

“You,” Lan Wangji said dryly, ignoring the warmth he felt. Surely it was wrong to feel touched when someone’s unhealthy co-dependence with you was mentioned. “When you kidnapped me.”

“It was only technically kidnapping,” Jiang Cheng grumbled. “And only at first, anyway…really, it’s no big deal. Just had a few bad nights.”

Jiang Cheng’s nights fell on a scale between decent, mediocre, bad, and genuinely horrific, and he generally only conceded that something was ‘bad’ when it fell toward the lower end of the scale – when his thoughts kept scattering like a flock of bird being chased off their perch, returning to circle around sore subjects and drill worries into his skull, when there would be blood and bile and panic and his mind would linger on anxieties he had long ago put aside in the light of day.

He hadn’t had one of those in months – and now he had had a few?

“Because I…?”

Jiang Cheng shook his head. “A-Ling had a temper tantrum last week,” he explained, voice low and more than a little helpless. “I think he misses you and A-Yuan, and he’s at the age for pushing his boundaries, too…he told me that his Wei-jiujiu wouldn’t have made him eat his vegetables.”

He would have, of course, Lan Wangji reflected. He remembered how Wei Wuxian had been with A-Yuan, always mercilessly teasing him. Wei Wuxian had a spine when it came to children, one that wouldn’t crack into a thousand pieces at the first sob – that was Jiang Cheng, who was all bluster and bark without the slightest bit of bite.

But that wasn’t the issue, not when Jiang Cheng’s soul was a patchwork of ragged wounds and insecurity, a lifetime of being second-best and second-loved, and on his worst days he would voice doubts that he’d even been esteemed as much as that.

By his father, by his mother, by his sister, by Wei Wuxian himself –  

“Maybe he would’ve done better,” Jiang Cheng murmured, his eyes already blank with self-hatred – no doubt this was what had kept him up on those bad nights, the angry whispers of a too-fragile mind that said why did he leave me, why wasn’t I good enough, he said he’d stay by my side and then took the first chance he could to leave me behind, that said it couldn’t have been him that did all those things and betrayed me like that, no, he must have died earlier on and it was my fault for not noticing, that said if it’s all my fault then it all makes sense, it’s always because of me, no one ever stays with me.

That said if it’s my fault then it’ll happen again.

Lan Wangji did not like those nights.

“Mm,” he said mildly. “And then A-Ling would also know how to hide dirty pictures in awkward places.”

Lan Wangji had never been good at comforting people, having always been the one being comforted, and his failure to convey his feelings to Wei Wuxian during his life spoke volumes regarding his ability to communicate – but he knew Jiang Cheng.

After so long living together, he knew him.

(Jiang Cheng wasn’t the only one who had difficulty sleeping without those familiar sounds next door.)

Sure enough, Jiang Cheng choked, his eyes clearing up, and he spent the next few breaths struggling not to burst out laughing. “We’re supposed to be arguing,” he hissed at Lan Wangji, who smirked – from a distance it would certainly look as though they were arguing, Jiang Cheng’s cheeks all red and his shoulders shaking in what a stranger might mistake for rage. “You stone-faced bastard, that’s not funny.”

Lan Wangji disagreed. Jiang Cheng’s reaction was, in fact, extremely funny.

“We will need to diversify our collection of such things,” Lan Wangji said thoughtfully. “Given the inclinations of our future house guest…”

“I am not buying Mo Xuanyu pictures of – ! He can buy it himself if he wants…wait, you’re really planning to have him come with us?”

“He will die if he remains,” Lan Wangji said simply, because it was that simple. Their conversation, however brief, had been extremely informative. “And so he must not remain. We have concocted a plan.”

“We? I wasn’t involved in this.”

“Myself, and Nie Huaisang.”

Lan Wangji was expecting some sort of reaction to that – what, he wasn’t sure, possibly disbelief or ridicule or even panic that they were entrusting themselves to the most useless fop to grace the current generation of cultivators – but instead Jiang Cheng relaxed, looking pleased. “Oh, well, Nie Huaisang,” he said, as if that explained anything at all.

“You trust him?”

Jiang Cheng shrugged. “I don’t not trust him?” he hazarded, and seemed rather helplessly puzzled by his own ease with the situation. “He’s terrible at anything a sect heir ought to be good at, but he’ll come up with the wildest sort of things if it’s nonsense he’s after, and he usually gets his way in the end. He’s a pretty good judge as to how likely his chances at success are, too.”

“He’s smarter than he looks,” Lan Wangji agreed, his voice neutral.

“Don’t tell me you fell for his ‘who, me, a person capable of doing anything, surely not’ act,” Jiang Cheng said, looking vastly amused. Lan Wangji might normally object to such teasing, but if it got Jiang Cheng away from his dangerous self-hatred, he’d take it – even if the idea that Jiang Cheng, master of obliviousness, had correctly judged a person that he himself had misjudged seemed just plain wrong. “He just does that to anyone he thinks might squeal on him to his brother.”

Lan Wangji probably would have, too. Still, he felt that Jiang Cheng should have warned him better.

He glared.

“Second Young Master Lan has no grounds for complaining at his own lack of perception,” Jiang Cheng said, and Lan Wangji noted again the presence of people in their vicinity. “It’s all that navel-gazing you do in the Cloud Recesses, no doubt – should I start to worry about A-Yuan?”

“Lan Yuan,” Lan Wangji said snippily, then added, “Lan Sizhui.”

Jin Rulan, Jiang Cheng mouthed at him, and both of them were forced to briefly avert their faces in sheer amusement. Poor Jin Ling – no one would ever call him by his courtesy name, not if even his two guardians weren’t able to keep a straight face.

(Well, comparatively speaking. Lan Wangji was well aware that his own expression of deep amusement looked, to the uninitiated, exactly like his neutral expression but for a very slight narrowing of the eyes.)

The footsteps passed, and Jiang Cheng relaxed once more. Lan Wangji was pleased to see it, but acknowledged that if they were to keep up the pretense of disliking each other, deplorable political necessity that it was, they would need to do better in the future.

“Today will be a disaster,” Lan Wangji murmured, a warning. “But beneficial in the long run. Do not take what they say to heart.”

He would not have said it if Jiang Cheng was not more fragile than usual. Normally, Jiang Cheng could, after years of practice, let insults flow off his back like water from a duck, unmoving and uncaring – he was a flawed man in many ways, Lan Wangji acknowledged, but he generally only had to make a mistake once to learn from it.

For instance, he would never again allow the poisoned words of others to interfere with those he loved.

Not when he still tormented himself for not having done more for Wei Wuxian, as if there had been more Jiang Cheng could have done without losing everything else he held dear – not even Lan Wangji, who was helplessly and hopelessly in love with Wei Wuxian and couldn’t keep himself from sometimes playing Inquiry in search of him, summoned his ghost into their lives so often as Jiang Cheng did.

“Sometimes I wonder what goes through your head,” Jiang Cheng remarked, glaring at the perceived commentary about his lack of emotional resiliency no matter how accurate. “And then I realize I don’t want to know.”

“Lying is forbidden.”

“I am not a Lan. And, yes, fine, it’s a lie. If I could crack you open and crawl into your head, I probably would, but that doesn’t make you special or anything. I’d do that to most people.”

Lan Wangji believed it – Jiang Cheng was just that insecure.

He didn’t let Jiang Cheng change the subject, though, continuing to stare at him until Jiang Cheng shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, rolling his eyes. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll prepare for a calamity and storm out as quickly as possible. What are they possibly going to say about me now?”

They said he was like his father.

It was usually meant as a compliment, but not always. In this case, it was the latter: the implication that Jiang Cheng would, like his father, eventually forget to care for the child he already had when another, better one came along put an especially ugly expression on his face.

As Nie Huaisang had gleefully predicted, Jin Guangshan was enraged to the point of maddening by the prank they had pulled and framed Mo Xuanyu for. Nor could he be blamed, the prank was positive infantile, and highlighted Mo Xuanyu’s relative youth and immaturity, losing his father and sect face in the process. Everyone had wanted to talk about that, about how extremely obvious it was that Mo Xuanyu’s only use was to humiliate the already legitimized Jin Guangyao, but in deference to their host they turned their conversation onto past examples like Jiang Fengmian – and, of course, the more recent example of the ongoing fight between Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji over Lan Sizhui.

Jiang Cheng had had no choice but to ignore it, no matter how his face purpled in rage at the suggestion that he might neglect either Lan Sizhui or Jin Ling in favor of the other.  Still, no one had really questioned it when he left in a huff not long after in response to an extremely unfortunate comment by the ever-feckless Nie Huaisang (of course: Lan Wangji shouldn’t have doubted him) about the ability of young men to handle child-rearing, returning to the Lotus Pier in a fury with a parting shot about how the Lotus Pier, at least, did not follow the Wen sect in encouraging the indoctrination of children – a vicious and unwarrented smear regarding the Lan sect’s lectures that made Lan Qiren almost visibly see red and Lan Xichen frown but which Lan Wangji thought was rather useful to their ultimate goal.

When later it was discovered that Mo Xuanyu had apparently run away – and based on the clues that had been left behind, that he must have pulled off his escape by disguising himself as part of Jiang Cheng’s retinue – Jin Guangshan was so angry that smoke nearly poured out of his ears, to the point that Jin Guangyao hastily came up with some excuse to briefly remove him from the scene.

Nie Huaisang winked at Lan Wangji from behind his fan, looking pleased with himself, and he looked so ridiculous that Lan Wangji had to forcefully remind himself once again of his personal revelation that the second young master of Qinghe Nie was far away from being the useless waste that he presented himself as.

Far more effective a reminder, though, was Jin Guangshan’s announcement later that day that he would indulge Mo Xuanyu’s desire for a little bit of freedom – natural in a boy of that age, he’d chuckled, playing the indulgent father – by requesting that Jiang Cheng keep him for some time at the Lotus Pier to tutor his young cousin Jin Ling in the ways of Lanling Jin.

Just as Nie Huaisang had so enthusiastically and confidently said he would.

“And with Hanguang-jun there to supervise, there will be no question of misconduct,” Chifeng-zun said, nodding in approval at the proposal. “Your son and grandson will benefit twice over! I think our younger generation is stronger for having all gathered together in one place, whether learning at the Cloud Recesses or resisting the oppression of the Wen sect…”

“That requires there to be a younger generation,” someone in the crowd interjected, as they almost always did when someone of their present generation mentioned the next. “Sect Leader Nie, don’t you think it’s time you settled down?”

“Why are you looking to me?” he demanded, looking annoyed. “Zewu-jun is equally unattached, and he ranks first on the list of women’s hearts, doesn’t he?”

“On the list of young masters, of which I no longer count,” Lan Xichen stressed hastily, holding up his hands in a vain attempt to ward off the discussion topic. “At any rate, I’m far too busy to be interested in courting at the moment – anyway, wasn’t Sandu Shengshou trying to set up a match some time back?”

“Didn’t he get blackballed?” Sect Leader Qin, ever Jin Guangshan’s faithful dog, interjected, always on the look-out for a way to denigrate the other Great Sects. “I didn’t even know that was possible –”

“At least he’s demonstrated the ability to care for a child –”

Lan Wangji decided that that was an excellent time to make his escape. This was one situation in which he especially did not want to get held up as a positive comparison.

His uncle went with him.

“Very cleverly done,” Lan Qiren remarked as they strolled into one of the many gardens that peppered Lanling City and Jinlin Tower in particular, and Lan Wangji looked at him sidelong. “Matchmaking and children are the favorite subjects of old men; by the time the noise dies down, Sect Leader Jin’s decision as to his newest son will be considered as settled and unquestionable. It was good of your brother – and Chifeng-zun, of course – to throw themselves on their swords for you.”

Lan Wangji put his hands behind his back, uncomfortable. “I did not ask them to act.”

His uncle said nothing. He didn’t need to – if perhaps Chifeng-zun was somewhat opaque to them both, his sheer straightforwardness ironically enough serving to conceal any subtle thoughts he might have, Lan Xichen was as clear as a calm lake. He had jumped into the conversation at just the right moment, saying words that would only inflame the situation rather than calm it, displaying just enough dismay to be humorous without actually appearing, to those that knew him well, to be surprised at all.

“It was Nie Huaisang’s idea,” Lan Wangji added, and that did get Lan Qiren’s eyebrows to rise up in surprise. Probably wondering, just as Lan Wangji was, when exactly Nie Huaisang had had the opportunity to rope the Venerated Triad into his scheme – as far as Lan Wangji could tell, he hadn’t had any opportunity to speak to them.

Still, however intriguing the speculation was, it wasn’t enough to dissuade his uncle from his target.  

“The motivation was yours,” he said, the question implicit.

“Mo Xuanyu requested Jiang Cheng’s assistance,” Lan Wangji explained. “He is – unhappy, in Lanling, and ill-suited to it. Jiang Cheng feared that he might one day bring harm upon himself if he remained.”

His uncle nodded slowly, looking thoughtful. “Having him at the Lotus Pier to teach Jin Ling the ways of Lanling Jin also means that there is no urgent need for Jin Ling to return to Lanling himself. He can remain with Sect Leader Jiang.”

“Yes.”

His uncle huffed out a breath and leaned down to smell one of the flowers. “I will give you some books before you return to the Lotus Pier,” he said. “Mo Xuanyu is already past thirteen; it is not at all the same as dealing with small children. You will need to be prepared.”

Lan Wangji looked at his uncle, a little surprised. He had expected more resistance to this scheming plot, which was not at all in line with Lan sect principles.

“Mo Xuanyu is old enough to make his own decisions,” his uncle said, his eyes still fixed on the flower. “If he cannot happy here, he should go to where he can be.”

Lan Wangji’s heart trembled within his chest. He’d thought – his uncle, who had led the charge at the Burial Mounds, who had been the most disappointed at all of his choices–

“I am sorry that we did not suit you, Wangji.”

Lan Wangji exhaled, hard, feeling a stinging feeling in his eyes and nose.

He had not expected an apology.

It didn’t change everything all at once, of course. He was still angry, still spiteful, still furious, fill of bile and bone-deep rage at how his own family had so thoroughly failed to trust in him that they would take away even his right to choose. His belly was heavy with his resentment at how they disapproved of him, how they were ashamed of him, and it would take more than mere words to liberate him from it.

But still, he had to admit – there was something more complicated about it now.

It had been easier, he thought, to be merely angry.

“It was not you,” he said, a small concession. “If the circumstances were different, I could have lived my whole life at the Cloud Recesses with no dissatisfaction.”

“But they aren’t,” his uncle said, bowing his head in understanding. “And you can’t. I – do not understand, and I do not like it, but that is not necessary. It is still my dearest wish for you to be happy and safe.”

Lan Wangji wasn’t sure that being truly happy was possible in a world that lacked Wei Wuxian – a world his uncle had helped bring about with his own two hands – but he knew that the life he had built with Jiang Cheng in the Lotus Pier, warm and tightly packed and full of worries as it was, was as close as he would come, and a life of solitude and distance and tranquility at the Cloud Recesses would only be worse.

“I have another month left before I return,” he pointed out, seeking to change the subject.

“Not after that conversation,” Lan Qiren said, looking reluctantly amused. “You will be sent to the Lotus Pier as soon as can be managed to make sure that everyone is being properly supervised.”

“Jiang Cheng can supervise.”

“Jiang Wanyin won’t.”

Lan Wangji bowed his head to hide a smile. His uncle wasn’t wrong.

And he had to admit - he wouldn’t miss Jiang Cheng dealing with a teenager for the world.

[junko-and-riri-domain]

exam season ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ni-ki

“you aren't wasting my time, and you need rest. please, ___ this isn’t healthy.” riki pleaded, and he seemed so genuinely concerned for you.  “I know we’re labelled as rivals all the time but I want to get to know you better. as someone who ranked 1 consistently, I wanted to meet the one person who managed to achieve the same thing."

or 

you and nishimura riki are rivals under the same company. after all, being the same age and pretty much the same level of talent made you and him quite unstoppable. the company thought it’d be a good idea to let you two meet and get along, but it turned out to be quite the opposite ordeal. though, this always remained to be a respectful rivalry. nothing petty.

warnings : overworked reader, insecurities, fainting from exhaustion, hints at negative body image ( good ending ) 

note : this is also off the top of my head, please ignore any mistakes !

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ rest under the cut

what were you supposed to think?

you had to admit it to yourself though, similar age and practically same amount of skill in dance would mean that this unit would be pretty much unstoppable. it’s just ;; the unspoken consequences of young teamwork at play. 

training for about half a year at belift, you’ve become quite popular among the trainees. they describe you as a dance prodigy. if you were going to be honest, it was kind of embarrassing. the spotlight was okay depending on the circumstances but, to be described as something so honorable made you feel like you weren’t worthy of it. on top of that, your vocals were always stable while practicing, making you stand out and always place #1 on exams. 

and so you started to practice harder, with the same thought of

‘i have to prove that i’m worthy to be labeled as a prodigy, otherwise why else am i here?’ 

to ni-ki, you were always so hardworking. sometimes, he thought it was too much. he’d pass by the room you were practicing in during lunch breaks and he would see you dancing your heart out, sweat threatening to fall from your face. he could tell you were tired, but due to the rules, he wasn’t allowed to talk to you. he considered you his opponent in a way, but it wasn’t to the extent of ruining your workflow. 

and to you, ni-ki seemed like a charming rival. the way he danced had always mesmerized you, his snaps and swift moves are always close to perfect. this motivated you to practice even harder, despite already achieving extreme skill. you often nitpicked on yourself and keep saying that you’re not doing something well enough, and that you’re not good enough and you have to try harder. you honestly thought he was kind of annoying. not only is he literally so tall, he's a dancing machine. everything that you wanted to be. ni-ki may have been your unspoken rival, 

but overcoming your extreme feeling to be better than the previous day is your true rival. 

coming home after training, you were always exhausted. as much water you drank, it never felt as if it quenched the thirst you brought upon yourself from working so hard. while doing homework you always zoned out, your concentration nowhere to be found. at some point, you even stopped messaging your friends as much as before, ignoring any notification that popped up and practicing till the sun peeked above the horizon.

this feeling of wanting to slip away into well-deserved rest never sat right with you.

'if I have time to do something, then I'll do it now. rest can wait.'

---

the week before, an exam was assigned to all the trainees. the exam was to be separated by gender, but you thought this was kind of dumb. and so what did you do? you asked the choreographer if you could take both of the choreographies instead of being categorized into one section.

"that's a great idea, ___! I'll allow it this once, since you always rank 1 anyways. in fact, why don't I ask riki if he wants to do an co-op exam with you? you guys are the same age right?"

all you could do was let out a hum and nod.

'nishimura riki... I hope I don't mess anything up.'

"he always ranks 1 in exams as well so I think it'd be perfect!" he continued, a bright smile flashed across his face at the realization of a great performance in development.

he walks off, and briskly walks to where riki usually practiced.

phew

you let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding. you've done many exams before but it had never been with another person. trying to convince yourself everything would be okay, your intrusive thoughts came in again.

'what if i embarass myself? what if I can't learn the choreo and mess everything up? what if he doesn't like m- wait. that doesn't even matter- ugh.'

you stood there for so long thinking to yourself about the future that one of the trainees had to tap you on the shoulder to make sure you didn't see medusa or something. repeating your little sorries and thank yous, you left the practice room and went on your way home.

you'd think that after weeks of non-stop overworking you'd hit your limit by now. the thing is, you never learn your lesson until you have to learn it the hard way. and that's exactly what's gonna happen.

---

back to the present, riki was currently doing a run-over of what he thinks you guys should do to make the choreography better. if there was one thing you and him had in common, it's that you always wanted to be ranked 1 through hard work.

however, you disagreed with some of the steps he created, and respectfully asked if you could show him what you were thinking of. in all honesty, riki was quite impressed. he'd never seen you dance up close since all he was able to do was take quick glances, but seeing you pour your heart into what you love and being absolutely great at it, it kind of gave him the feels.

yes. the feels. the butterflies. 🦋🦋🦋

though, in the next moment, butterflies was far from what he felt. his stomach did a full 180 and his face in such a shocked state as he watched your eyes roll back as your body practically shut down in front of him. he sped down to your side quickly and shouted for help, as he tried to shake you awake.

"please please wake up, I'm not sure if you'd wake up at all if you fell asleep so please..."

was the last faint thing you heard before slipping into unconsciousness.

---

beep , beep , beep

your eyes flutter open to reveal that you were in the nurse's office in the same building. to say you were relieved was an understatement, hospitals scared you a lot more since they'd have to call your parents.

looking around the dim room, it still resembled a hospital room, monitor, needles, riki, IV, wait. riki?

your eyes practically shot back to where he sat, head bowed down in an awkward position, closed eyes with phone in hands.

honestly speaking, it was kind of cute. but you knew it was uncomfortable. and you also felt SUPER guilty making him wait for you and practically ruining practice. he stirred a bit, easy to wake up due to the uncomfy position his neck was in.

in a couple of seconds you hear him ask, "___? you're awake?"

"riki.. what happened?"

"the trainer, our choreographer and the building's medical team were all here. they said that you were overworking yourself. not only that, you didn't eat, drink, or sleep enough. which I can only assume is because you're constantly practicing."

"... I'm guessing that has to be true then, if I'm already here. riki, I'm sorry."

"sorry for what?"

"for wasting your time. you didn't have to be tangled up in my mess if I wasn't an idiot and asked them for a different exam. we could'v-"

he cut you off, “you aren't wasting my time, and you need rest. please, ___ this isn’t healthy.” riki pleaded, and he seemed so genuinely concerned for you.  “I know we’re labelled as rivals all the time but I want to get to know you better. as someone who ranked 1 consistently, I wanted to meet the one person who managed to achieve the same thing. you didn't disappoint me, you didn't waste my time, in fact, it was fun watching you disagree with the things I said. but then you fainted in front of me. I had no idea what to do, but thankfully Jungwon-hyung came in and helped me. but all that aside, your body needs rest. I've talked too much."

"it's okay, your voice seems to be making me sleepy anyways."

he didn't know whether to take that as a compliment or an insult.

you handed him a spare pillow from your bed though, so he'll just take it as a compliment for now.

he didn't know what took over him in the next few seconds but he slowly put his phone in his pocket and reached his hand out to you, his hand resting on the bed right next to your waistline. as if it was beckoning you, your hand gravitated towards his, and the warmth of his hand and his comforting presence was enough to lull you back to sleep.

---

all the trainees in the floor were gathered in practice room #1, awaiting the announcement to see who got rank 1.

of course, they were expecting you and riki, but not together at the same time.

"nishimura riki, ___ ___. rank #1"

you and riki looked at each other in excitement, you could do nothing but listen at the moment, but celebration was in order later.

celebration? oh did you mean cuddles, making sure you're rested well and eating okay, hand holding, and a whole lot of light-hearted teasing? yeah.

[end]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ written by junko

|blog masterlist|

[starshine583]

New Girl on the Block (2)

(So there are Journal Entries that are supposed to go with these fics, but I’ll admit they’re not as details haha. It’s up to you if you wanna read them or not, but please enjoy this chapter either way!)

Ch.1 / Ch.3

Chapter 2: Looming Support

Marinette bustled down the last few steps to the bakery and made a mad dash for the door. She should arrive at Rosemary right on time- for once in her life -but Felix was supposed to be meeting her there since they shared their first class together, and his demeanor gave her the impression that he preferred to get to class early instead of right on time. 

“Oh- don’t forget you’re croissants for lunch!” Sabine called after her, causing Marinette to screech to a halt.

“Right, right, thanks Maman.” She replied hastily, nearly yanking the paper bag from Sabine’s hands.

“Careful with those! They’re fresh!” Sabine warned. 

Marinette only nodded, as it was the only thing she had time to do, and ripped open the bakery door. The school was now five blocks away instead of two, but if she started running-

“Marinette!”

All thoughts of Felix and Rosemary flooded from her mind when the chipper voice of Adrien Agreste reached her ears. 

She glanced up to see her former classmate- and former crush, for that matter -stepping out of his silver car. Her first instinct was to run, but her feet refused to move, as if they were rooted to the spot from sheer panic. Why was he here? No, nevermind. She knew why he was here. The look on his face gave it all away. That easy smile paired with those stupid, pitying eyes was a look she’d seen a thousand times before. He always wore that expression when he was about to give her another lecture on why she needed to be the bigger person and let Lila figure out the error of her ways on her own.

“Marinette, I’m so glad I caught you! I tried to visit yesterday, but Mme Sabine said you weren’t home.” 

Marinette held back a smile, knowing full well that she’d been home all evening yesterday. Her mother was such a saint.

The humor didn’t last long, though, because Adrien continued, “I wanted to talk to you about your transfer? When did you decide to change schools? You didn’t even say goodbye.”

Involuntarily, she started shifting from foot to foot. Aside from the fact that merely looking at Adrien made her immensely uncomfortable, school would be starting soon. The last thing she wanted to do was cause Felix to be late if he decided to wait for her. “A-Adrien, I really need to go.” 

His smile wavered. “Maybe I can give you a ride? I really think we should talk.”

Finally regaining command over her own two feet, Marinette shuffled a step back. “No, t-that’s alright. I don’t want to trouble you.”

Adrien stepped forward. “It’s no trouble-”

“ThanksbutIreallyhavetogonowbye-” The quick farewell shot from her lips as she tore off down the sidewalk, giving him no room to argue. She knew Adrien all too well, and she knew that he would keep her there all day if it meant persuading her into his vehicle- or anywhere private -for them to “talk”. 

Marinette turned left and right, winding through the streets and back alleyways of Paris. It wasn’t the ideal detour, but she wanted to be absolutely certain that he didn't follow her. If Adrien was willing to show up at her house, she doubted that he would hesitate to show up at her school too. 

So she ran, ignoring the burning in her legs and desperately praying that Felix wouldn’t glare at her too much for the inconvenience.

~~~~~~

Time: eight thirty-two in the morning, exactly two minutes after classes were supposed to start. 

Felix never considered being late a problem so long as it wasn’t a regular occurrence. The tardy marks that assaulted his otherwise perfect attendance, however, were a bit of a nuisance. If it had been anyone other than Marinette, he would have left as soon as the class bell resonated within these borderline cavernous halls. 

A pair of footsteps developed in the distance, faint at first. He didn’t bother turning his head until the sound grew into a loud tapping on the pavement, but what he saw surprised him. Marinette, the very girl he was waiting for, was sprinting towards him. If that wasn’t enough, she ran right past him and into the school! Granted, she spouted something in his direction as she passed, but he certainly didn’t catch it. 

Felix, despite being thoroughly confused, followed her inside, where she was now bent over and gasping for air. 

“I’m- I’m so sorry for- for being late.” She panted, briefly glancing up as she did. He noted that her gaze was focused more on the windows than him, though.

“It happens.” He murmured, curiosity prompting him to look out the windows as well. A few cars passed, but nothing out of the ordinary. What was she looking for?

“You’re not mad?” She huffed, flicking her eyes to the window again and taking a step to the right. Was she trying to hide from something? 

Felix frowned. “No, but we should get to class. Getting detention on your first day isn’t the best first impression.” 

Marinette nodded, drawing in one last breath and straightening. “Okay.. History’s first, right?” 

“Correct. They’ve already started, though, so we’ll need to be discrete.” 

She pulled a sheepish smile. “Sorry.”

He shrugged. “It’s only the first class of the day. Once the next class starts, our schedules will right themselves, and our lateness will be forgotten.” 

-

And it was. By the time Felix met up with the others for lunch a few hours later, Marinette was bright and cheery and not nearly as distressed as she had been that morning. He idly wondered what could have caused so much panic for her, but it wasn’t his business to ask. They’d only known each for a day, after all. If she wanted to tell him about her problems, she would.

“Ready to go, Mari?” Allegra asked, looping her arm with Marinette’s. “The restaurant is a bit far so I’m gonna have you ride with me, if you don’t mind.”

“We’re going to a restaurant?” 

“Yeah, where else would we go?” Claude replied.

A soft “oh” passed Marinette’s lips, and she looked down at the small, pink package in her hands. “I, um.. I thought we were just going to eat at the park or something, so I brought my own lunch.”

“That’s alright!” Allegra smiled. “We’ll just go to a cafe instead. I know this outdoor one a few minutes from here that has the most splendid pastries.”

“Are you sure-”

“Of course we’re sure.” Allegra insisted, waving off Marinette’s concerns as they walked outside. “This lunch is for you, after all.”

Her bluebell eyes blew wide at the information. “For me?”

“It’s our way of celebrating a new member of the group.” Allan casually explained.

“Felix didn’t get a lunch since we already have to drag him by the ankles to everything else we do.” Claude added with a smirk.

Felix rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t disagree. They really did jump through a lot of hoops to hang out with him. Why the trio went through so much trouble, he’ll never know.

Marinette, however, giggled at the knowledge and stole a glance in his direction.

Feeling as if he should acknowledge her look, he leaned towards her and murmured, “You can still run. The ‘initiation lunch’ hasn’t started yet.”

She put a hand over her mouth to stifle her increased laughter. “I think I’ll take my chances.” 

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Suit yourself. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

-

Fifteen minutes later, they were all climbing out of their respective cars- Marinette hopping out with Allegra -and deciding which table to steal for the half hour they had left. Claude jumped to a circular table near the edge of the street because it “had more sun”. Since no one else had a specific preference, they followed along behind him.

“We try to make it a point to have lunch together whenever we can.” Allegra said to Marinette as they sat down. “Usually, we get to have one at least once a week.”

“Felix always tries to escape, but struggle is futile when Allegra is involved.” Claude whispered to the ravenette. The fact that he had to lean all the way across the table to do so, however, caused everyone to hear it anyway.

Allegra pulled a cheeky smile, not even denying the comment. She knew how ruthless she could be when she wanted something, and it was a trait that she held in high esteem.

Marinette, once again, fell into a small fit of giggles. Felix found that he rather enjoyed hearing her laugh, which was surprising. People who laughed at every other word in a conversation usually irritated him. They were either looking for his approval or just had dreadful, snorty laughs in general. Not hers, though. Something about Marinette’s laugh reminded him of tinkling bells or pure sunshine. It almost made him want to laugh along with her. 

“How long have you all been friends?” Marinette asked curiously, resting her elbows on the table and her chin on the back of her folded hands. 

Allegra was the first to answer. “Claude, Allan, and I have been friends since childhood, but Felix was roped into joining us a little over two years ago.”

A waitress came by to take their orders for drinks and food, but after she left, Marinette continued the conversation.

“It’s cool that you all have stayed such good friends over the years. At my other school, I somehow got put in the same class of people for six years straight, but..” She trailed off, her smile fading slightly. 

“But what?” Felix prompted, ignoring the surprised look the others gave him. 

If someone had told him yesterday that he’d be asking a random girl about her troubles, he would have said they were ridiculous, or better yet, not responded at all. When it came down to it, Felix wasn’t a sensitive or compassionate person. 

And yet, here he was, asking Marinette to continue addressing her woes- and they were woes. No one looked that depressed when thinking about cherished memories. -for a simple life story. Felix wanted to know what made her tick, how she became the person she was today. He couldn’t do that with the scarce information that he currently possessed. If she was close to telling them something important, why waste the opportunity?

Marinette’s eyes met his, also holding a bit of shock.

“But..” She repeated, casting her gaze downwards and lowering her hands. “I guess being childhood friends wasn’t enough to keep us from drifting apart.”

The table fell silent. 

Even as the waitress came back with their drinks, even though Claude- who usually never shut up -was sitting right there, the table fell silent. It was one of those moments, Felix supposed, that had to be silent, to reflect on the grief that hung so heavily in Marinette’s words.

Finally, Allan put his hand on hers. “We’re here for you.” 

The statement was soft, but strong and filled with sincerity. Allegra and Claude reached forward and grabbed her hand as well, showing their shared support.

Marinette put her free hand on top of theirs, her eyes glistening with tears, but her smile warm and grateful. “Thank you.”

Although Felix didn’t partake in the handholding, he offered her a meaningful look. “I told you: once the ‘initiation lunch’ is started, you’re stuck here.” 

A choked laugh came from her, and she wiped away a single, stray tear. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

~~~~~~

Marinette popped the last bite of her meal into her mouth and started balling up the wrappers and dirtied napkins to put them back in her lunchbox so she could throw them away later. She’d decided to wait until the others got their meals from the cafe before eating her prepared lunch, which resulted in a time crunch that required her to somewhat scarf down her food. Marinette didn’t mind it, though. Allegra moved their entire lunch date to another location in an effort to accommodate her. The least she could do was wait an extra ten or twenty minutes before eating. 

“What is that heavenly smell?” Claude asked, going so far as to stand from his seat slightly.

Marinette, who had just taken out her mother’s croissants, smiled. “Maman packed me fresh croissants from our bakery this morning.” 

“You have a bakery??” Claude asked next, rising further from his seat.

Allegra swatted at his arm. “Claude, behave yourself. We’re in public.”

The brunette sat down immediately, but his eyes remained on Marinette. Or rather, the paper bag she was holding. 

Marinette giggled. “Yes, about five blocks from Rosemary.” She then opened the bag and fished out a croissant. “Would you like to try one?”

“Absolutely!” Claude said, almost urgently, as he shot out of his seat to grab the offered food.

“Claude!” Allegra hissed.

Instantly, he sat down again, reminding Marinette of a hyperactive, yet well-trained puppy. She couldn’t help grinning at the sight.

“They’re chocolate flavored.” Marinette informed as she handed it to him. “We also have a cheese-filled one, but I don’t have any of those today.”

Claude didn’t hesitate to take a bite of the croissant, and she watched with an amused smile as his entire being seemed to melt into the chair. 

“Is it really that good?” Allegra inquired, reaching up to take a piece.

Claude jerked away, clutching the croissant to his chest as if it were a priceless heirloom. “No! She gave it to me!”

Allegra lips pressed into a thin, impatient line. “I just want one little piece.”

He shook his head. “Get your own croissant.” 

“Claude-”

Before she could argue any further, Claude shoved the entire croissant into his mouth. 

“Claude!” Allegra cried, both annoyed and concerned at the same time.

“I have more!” Marinette rushed to say, not wanting the conflict to worsen. Thankfully, the two turned back to her. 

“Maman packed a few extras since she knew that I was eating with you guys.” She explained, taking out another croissant.

Allan put a hand to his heart jokingly. “Aw~, you talk about us?”

A light blush dusted her cheeks, and she handed Allegra the croissant. “Well, you four are definitely a memorable group.”

“We wouldn’t be fun if we weren’t.” Claude winked, taking another croissant himself. It was actually Marinette’s croissant, but she wasn’t about to tell him that. His giddiness as he bit into the breaded treat was too good to ruin. Besides, she could always snag another one when she got home.

Allan hummed with pleasure next to her. “How did you make them so fluffy?”

“Maybe you guys can come over sometime to find out.” Marinette suggested with a smile. They’d taken her to lunch, so it seemed only fitting to invite them to her house as thanks.

Claude immediately brightened. “Can we really?”

She giggled. “I don’t see why not. I’m sure Maman and Papa would even teach you how to make the croissants yourselves if you’re nice enough.”

“Girl, you just say the word. I will be the epitome of nice.”

A round of laughter spread amongst the group. As if Claude could be anything but chaotic for more than a few minutes.

“We would love to come over.” Allegra said, still holding a wry smile from Claude’s comment.

Marinette beamed. “Great! I’ll see when Maman has a free day.”

A beeping sound cut into the conversation, and Felix glanced down at his watch. “Time’s up. We need to get back to the school for our next class.”

“You have a timer?” Marinette asked, purely curious, as they all started getting up.

“Felix always has a timer.” Claude interjected.

Felix sent him a glare. “It’s a practical thing to do. If I didn’t set a timer, we would all be expelled by now for being late to class too often.”

“He has a point.” Allegra allowed, pulling her purse onto her shoulder.

Claude shot her a betrayed look. “Don’t side with him!” 

Allegra merely shrugged in response. “We’ll see you guys back at school.” 

“We?” 

Allegra made a small gesture between herself and Marinette. “We’re riding together, remember?”

Claude straightened. “Hey, that’s not fair! You got to ride with her on the way here.”

Allegra rose a brow. “Your point?”

Claude flailed his arms, as if it were obvious. “So it’s my turn to drive her.”

“Your turn?” Allegra scoffed. “She’s a human being, not some object to be thrown around!”

“Says the person who gets to drive her.” Claude retorted. 

Allegra narrowed her eyes. “Fine. Why don’t we let Marinette decide who she rides with?”

An involuntary squeak escaped Marinette’s lips as the two turned to her. 

“Oh, um, well-”

Felix’s sigh cut her off. “Enough. I’ll drive her.” 

Claude’s jaw dropped open.

Allegra blinked. 

Marinette just stared at him, vaguely aware of Allan smirking approvingly next to her.

“If that’s alright with you.” Felix added, breaking their stunned silence.

“O-Oh! Uh, yes. That’s fine.” Marinette replied unthinkingly. 

He nodded. “Good. Let’s get going then.”

Marinette shuffled along behind him, sparing a quick glance to Claude and Allegra. They were still staring, though Allegra now had enough sense about her to clench her jaw from displeasure. 

She managed to give them both an apologetic look before Felix led her around the corner to where his car was parked. 

He helped her in, then got in himself and ordered the driver to take them back to school. 

~~~~~~

Felix stared out the car window as he tapped his index finger against his thigh. They were alone now. Just him and Marinette. This situation provided a million opportunities. He could ask her more questions about her old school, or her home life, or how she was enjoying the school so far. If she assumed that he was prodding, she might clam up, though. So he should probably choose one subject for the time being. Which question was most important? Which would give him the most information?

His finger started tapping faster in thought. Her old school seemed to be a touchy subject. That would be shut down quickly. She’s also extended an invitation to her house. Any questions he asked about that would be answered eventually anyway. That left her opinion of Rosemary Highschool, but that hardly reflected much of her personal life.

Felix checked his watch. They would be at the school in roughly five minutes, and there was no telling when they’d be alone again, what with Claude and Allegra running about. He had to ask something.

He stole a glance in her direction. Marinette was staring out the window as well, quietly twiddling her thumbs. He found that it was something she did often- fiddling, that is. It must be a coping mechanism for her anxiety. She practically couldn’t sit still during their first class after the mysterious scare she’d had that.. morning..

Felix cleared his throat. He knew what he wanted to ask her now. 

“Can I ask you something?” He began, hoping she wouldn’t be as annoyed by this as he himself would be.  

Marinette startled, whirling around to face him. “Sorry?”

“I wanted to ask you a question.”

“Oh.” She said, relaxing a bit. “Okay.”

Felix drew in a small breath. So far so good. “This morning, you ran into the school and avoided the windows for the first class period. I don’t mean to pry, but were you running from something?”

Panic flashed across her features, and her hands trailed up to mess with the tips of her jacket. “It’s.. it’s nothing, really... I guess you could say I didn’t leave my old school on good terms.”

Felix blinked. That’s an interesting reply. What did the relations of her old school have to do with her running from something? (Nevermind the fact that Marinette leaving anyone on ‘bad terms’ was shocking. She didn’t seem like the type to make enemies easily.)

“..Is someone stalking you?” He asked, somewhat thinking aloud. The way she ran into the school didn’t strike him as someone who was casually hiding from an awkward situation. If she left her school on bad terms, perhaps someone was trying to corner her for revenge?

She shook her head frantically. “No, no, no! Well.. technically yes, but ‘stalking’ is a strong word. He-”

He?

“-just wants to ‘talk’.” Her expression soured at the last word, and Felix wondered what sort of things one must talk about to have her on the brink of scowling. 

“You know we don’t mind picking you up.” He offered. It’s not his policy to involve himself in personal disputes, but Allegra would have his head if he didn’t suggest some sort of support. Plus, more car rides would provide more opportunities for him to ask questions. “If you’re worried about being followed, Allegra and Claude will probably fight tooth and nail to drive you to school too.”

Marinette shook her head again. “I really appreciate it, but that’s not necessary.”

Felix watched her for a moment, not missing the way her hands started fiddling a bit more in her lap. “Well, if you ever change your mind..”

“You’ll be the first to know.” She promised with a smile. It looked a bit forced in his opinion, but he nodded nonetheless. 

Felix supposed he should feel wary towards the new student. She hadn’t mentioned why she left her old school, though she admitted she had unnamed squabbles there. That can be considered innocent, but it can also be a skillful way to avoid consequences. As far as he knew, she could be running from her victims who decided to rally against her. 

And yet, he couldn’t help being filled with this sense of morbid curiosity. Marinette Dupain-Cheng, a fashionista who appears to have a big heart and a troubled past. She lives in a bakery, yet managed to attend one of the most prestigious schools in the city- possibly the country. She’s riddled with nervousness, but every step she takes tells you that she knows exactly what she’s doing. 

Who exactly is Marinette Dupain-Cheng?

Felix couldn’t wait to find out.

Tag List: @artbyknigit @athena452 @nickristus-dreamer @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @arsaem @abrx2002 @neakco @pawsitivelymiraculous @too0bsessedformyowngood @nathleigh @lusicing @officiallydarkgeek @all-mights-asscheeks

[linksthoughtbrambles]

Your fantasies stay in your head, Link.

(Link's Thought Brambles part 12)

“I’ll speak with my daughter, first. Knights, await us here.”

First?

He wants to speak to her FIRST?

Holy Hylia, he’s going to talk to me, too. About what?

“Please sit, Zelda.”

“Yes, father.”

What is it what is it what is it what is it what is it what is it? What could it possibly be?

“My daughter.”

“Yes?”

“You disappeared this morning.”

Is it the praying thing? Was I not supposed to pray with her?

“Father, I-“

“Let me finish.”

Maybe he didn’t know yet last night in the dining hall but

“Your maid found your rooms empty and guards gone. No note.”

maybe he knows now and he’s going to tell me it was inappropriate

“Your appointed knight was obviously searching the castle grounds for you.”

and I’m not to do it again. If that’s all it is, it’s not so bad.

“Upon investigation, you had dismissed your night guards and headed for the kitchens, at which point you then proceeded, quite irregularly”

But what if it’s NOT that?

“to insist on entering the transport passageway down to the docks unaccompanied.”

“I-“

“Let me finish, Zelda! You are not a child anymore. If you were, the inhabitants of this castle could see such an excursion as a whimsical adventure. Some of them might indulge you. Others might gossip about your lack of focus. But it is far, far worse for you to behave this way now, as an adult.”

I wish I could hear them. I almost can. Just voices, no words.

“Your silence suggests you know what I mean. You do, don’t you?”

At least no angry shouting? Not yet anyway.

“You think I was dallying.”

“Ha. I know better than to think you were with a man.”

He doesn’t shout, really. It’s more of a growl.

“Wh- then why-“

“Because everyone ELSE will think it, Zelda!”

Oh. That was a little bit like shouting.

“Skies above! Half the talk in this castle is about who has relations with who. It’s Hylian nature. In that way, the Gorons and Zora are both far more civilized, and the Gerudo lax. They, fortunately, will not care if they hear such things, but Hylians and Rito will. Frankly, the poor excuse you seem to have devised about searching for your knight would have made it worse had he not been visibly searching for you this morning. Zelda… you cannot afford any more stains on your reputation.”

Wish these two would stop giving me the side-eye.

“I cannot help the ones that exist already.”

Maybe I should just ask them what it’s for.

“Oh ho. Yes, you can. And before you disagree, think well on your dedication to training. On the sincerity of your prayers.”

“How can you think I am insincere?”

Oh. Oh no. That’s her humiliated voice.

“I didn’t say that. I said YOU should think on it. And you should think well on your treatment of your appointed knight.”

I know it so well now, I can tell through the door.

“Using him as an excuse to venture off unattended. Leaving your apartment with no indication of where you had gone – the boy was beside himself.”

How bad would it be if I burst in there and told him off?

“Anyone could see it in his fervor to make a circuit of the entire castle in record time. I saw some of it from the Sanctum’s top floor. Did you know he could scale these walls barehanded?”

Locked-up-with-stalnox-bones bad?

“I did not.”

“He can and did.”

Probably.

“Father?”

“Yes?”

“If I am not a child, Sir Link is not a boy.”

Virn would probably stab me. Well, try to.

“It’s easy to forget. His face and stature suggest a younger age than his.”

“Yet you did not forget mine.”

And of course I can’t stab him back. So I’d have to disarm him.

“Your countenance carries… carries a burden of years which you have not lived. You do not appear even as young as you are.”

And then Kertiss, too.

“Sir Link, on the other hand still has, shall I say, an innocence about him which belies his age. His father warned me of this, and yet the sword chose him.”

It would be pretty fun to kick their asses in front of the Princess.

“I will put my trust in the artefact of the Goddess and choose to believe his personality is exactly as it should be.”

Actually, it would be fun to kick their asses anyway. But especially in front of her. She’s never seen me kick ass. Not really. It’s been pretty dull traveling around central Hyrule, which of course I should be grateful for. It’s not like I want her to be in danger.

“Father. Before you appointed Sir Link, I was free to move about this castle as I wished.”

But it would be really nice

“Indeed.”

to see her look at me

“But you had never behaved as you have today.”

with something other than dislike on her face.

“No note. No indication where you had gone but a few vague words to the kitchen staff, of all people. Disappearing into the castle depths alone. No. Before today, you would have sought solitude in the library or your personal study. So, I am forced to wonder what has changed. The answer to me, appears simple. You wished to escape Sir Link.”

Who am I kidding? If I did any serious fighting in her presence, it would probably disgust her.

“You have nothing to say, Zelda?”

It wouldn’t go the way it goes in my fantasies. Where I save that version of her who smiled at me in the training yard, and she pulls me into a recess in the curtain wall and wraps her legs around my hips.

“Hm. It has not escaped my notice how seriously he has taken his duty. He behaves as my royal guard do.”

Or where I fight off a bunch of Moblins who attack us on the road in the dark, and she kisses me so hard it hurts, and whispers, ‘You’re the night guard tonight, hero. Hope you’re up for it.’

“You are not accustomed to it when in these halls… but to say you are no longer free to move about as you wish is an exaggeration. Unless he has attempted to dictate your destination?”

“He has not.”

Or that really embarrassing one where she shoves me onto her own bed and calls me her divine beast. Sooooo much shame.

“Good. It would be inappropriate for him to do so. Now to the next issue at hand. What WERE you doing down below? … I suspect I know the answer. But I would prefer to hear it from you.”

No, she’d be disgusted for sure. My stupid fantasies are very stupid, and very not realistic.

“No? Very well then. I think you went to study the excavations.”

No showing off. And no bursting in there to tell off the king.

“I...”

You can’t let it be about you, Link.

”…I went to the northeast dig site.”

“Did you learn anything of note?”

No matter how much you might want it to be.

“Not yet.”

Because she needs you.

“Hmph. I’ll not forbid you from going at all. But go sparingly and take your knight with you next time. Avoid making a scene and fueling the gossip.”

Because she needs an ally.

“Father… they talk about him as well.”

Someone who puts her first.

“Yes, I know. It is, unfortunately, unavoidable when one is in the public eye. I ask you to believe me when I say it is better for him to be with you than not.”

Not her sealing power. And not her reputation.

“Think on what I’ve said, daughter. Please send sir Link in after you, and do not disappear on him this time.”

And not someone who manipulates her to get what they want.

”Yes, father.”

Your fantasies stay in your head, Link.

Thank the Goddess she fixed the slate.

_____

Read Next: [Link struggles with innuendo.]

Read this fic from the beginning (it makes more sense that way).

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[hallowxiu]

A Chance Meeting

pairing: human!mammon/demon!gn!mc

word count: 5.6k

summary: Never one for fate, you run into Mammon for a second time, albeit in a less than ideal scenario.

a/n: tw: there are mentions of pocket knives and mugging in this one shot.

part two of the demon!mc and human!mammon series. 

part one

“Wow,” Satan comments as he steps into the kitchen, looking around at the disarray of all the dishes on the counters and in the sink. “This is the eighth day in a row you’ve been on cooking duty. And for all meals too, what did you do to piss off Lucifer so bad?” A sheepish smile formed on your lips and you can hear more footsteps coming towards the kitchen. 

“You’re on cooking duty again? I miss Lucifer’s cooking!” Asmodeus stomps his foot and there’s a pout on his lips. You roll your eyes in response, but you didn’t exactly blame your younger brother. Your cooking wasn’t… the best. It certainly wasn’t the worst by any means, but it also wasn’t something you’d want for a week straight. 

“Ah, well, you better get used to my cooking for the next several months. It’s my punishment.” You felt like crying on the spot. Too much cooking, way too much cooking. And to keep Beelzebub fed for so many days? That within itself was a punishment. Satan quirked an eyebrow at your news. 

“What in the Devildom did you possibly do?”

“I uh, well, you see…” You didn’t want to explain this to your brothers, especially the two of them. They were quite ruthless when it came to gossip. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be our role model? No wonder he’s stricter with the punishments.” There’s a cheeky grin on Asmodeus’ face and his eyes twinkle with amusement as he tries to piece together what you must’ve done. 

“Then again, he favors you most, so your punishments aren’t that bad in comparison to ours.” Satan chimes in where Asmodeus left off. With a sigh, you decide to tell them. You knew they’d never leave you alone if you didn’t.

“I snuck off to the human realm.” 

Silence.

Yeah, you should have expected that. In fact, you were. “Oh, well, yeah, that’ll do it.” Is all Asmodeus says before leaving the room. “Make something good tonight! I’m hungry, but don’t make it so oily this time! My skin is starting to suffer because of you!” You shake your head at Asmodeus, though you make the mental note anyway. One less person angry with you would be ideal, after all. You pause when you notice Satan still lingering by the entryway of the kitchen. 

“What’s up?” You ask while you open the fridge, your eyes scanning for potential ingredients. You had no idea what to make; you exhausted your options after the second day. It’s a miracle you’ve managed to make it this long already. 

“Why do you want to go to the human realm? To my understanding, you were never the type before that showed any particular interest in humans. I was told that it was Lilith and Belphegor’s route of interest.” Leave it to Satan to be the most curious. You were hardly surprised, after all, Satan was the only one who was never an angel, the only one who never met Lilith, and the only one who never experienced first hand the shit show that went down the day leading to everyone falling. You knew the other brothers rarely talked to him about their previous life, and you wondered if that ever upset him. However, being the doting older sibling, you didn’t like the idea of Satan feeling left out. If anything, he got all the details from you. 

“I wanted to know what Lilith liked about humans so much, why she was willing to put everything on the line for one.” You answer your brother honestly. “Belphegor as well, I was hoping maybe that’d help me get closer with him. I know you don’t know from experience, but he wasn’t always this hostile and bitter. I’m not sure if the others told you, but he also adored humans just as much as Lilith. The two of them frequented the human realm together all the time.”

Satan seems to be soaking in the information like a sponge. You’re sure he’s grateful for the new information and while you knew he’d never tell you, he hated feeling left out with everyone. Maybe this would help him feel closer with the others. “I did not know that, although I suppose that would make sense. Beelzebub tells me a bit about Lilith and Belphegor every now and then. He always looks a little depressed when talking about them, so I assumed Belphegor changed compared to before.” You nod your head to Satan’s conclusion. “Did you find what you were looking for?” Images of the white-haired man suddenly flood your brain and you fight off a creeping blush that threatens to spread on your face. Did you find what you were looking for? You found something, but that doesn’t exactly answer the question. 

“I don’t know.” You answer honestly once again. “I had only been down twice when Lucifer busted my ass. You know how he can be.” You sigh while putting containers of various ingredients on the counter. “Honestly, this is a pretty mild punishment for what I did.” Satan scoffs in response. You knew he’d disagree with anything having to do with the eldest brother. “That being said, I would like to go back.” Satan’s green eyes look at you in curiosity. You? The second eldest going against Lucifer? Now that’s something you don’t see every day. “I met a human there,” you try to tread carefully, “and we didn’t get off on the best foot.” 

“So?” The blond looks at you with a head tilt. “Why would you care whether or not you got off on the wrong foot with a human?” You supposed it was hard for a demon to understand why this would matter. Then again, you were a demon and you didn’t even understand why this mattered to you. “Please don’t tell me you don’t know again.” He groans from your silence. ���This is hardly interesting at this point. If you’re going to get in trouble with Lucifer, you might as well make it something good.”

“Sorry my life is too boring for your standards.” You snort while prying off a lid. “But it’s the truth. He was nice enough for a human.” Cute too, but Satan didn’t need to know that. 

“Well.” a sigh leaves your brother, “keep me updated if you end up going back. Not that I find this interesting or anything. I just like pissing off Lucifer.” You chuckle to yourself once the other leaves. You thought his thinly veiled attempts of keeping track of your personal life was cute, even if he’d rather die than admit it. A sigh leaves you once you bring your attention back to the dilemma in front of you. Right, you’d have to get through this first. 

You’re on your bed, fingers drumming along the back of your D.D.D case. You were bored out of your mind and done with cooking duty for the day. It was late into the night and most of your brothers would be asleep by now, so why weren’t you? An annoyed breath of air escapes you and you turn on your side. You can’t get that damned kid out of your head. Had he put some kind of curse on you? You thought the thought was nothing but that at first, a silly thought, but now that you can’t even sleep because of this mere human, your sleep-deprived state thinks it might be a little more serious than a passing thought. 

You push yourself to sit up. You rub at your eyes groggily and you internally debate whether or not you should return to the human realm. The odds of Mammon being out and about were extremely slim, especially since the hour over there would also be ungodly. You were anxious for some reason, your body wanting to get up and start the day despite it being only a quarter past three in the morning. You were never one to believe in fate or get worked up over it, but your body was in panic mode and you had little to no idea why. You weren’t the type to get anxious over nothing either, and you thought you knew your body well enough as it was, but it seems you were mistaken. With a sigh, you close your eyes and prepare yourself for the future lecture you’d be sure to get. You already knew where you planned to go. 

The air was cold, biting at your skin as you found yourself standing in the middle of the empty streets. You were back in the city you had visited the last two times, though something seemed… off. You couldn’t place as to what, but it was enough to send alarms throughout your body. You walked down the streets, for once regretting that you didn’t bring a jacket. Did demons tend to become more sensitive with each time they traveled to the human realm? You never remembered being this cold before. 

Your eyes scanned over the closed stores, not a single soul out on the streets. You didn’t realize that even the city got this empty at night; you were expecting at least a few people here and there. It’s when you’d been walking for about ten minutes that you heard a commotion from one of the back alleys. Your eyebrow quirked and you paused in place. Should you get involved? As a demon, you didn’t want to meddle with humans too much, not if they weren’t Mammon or if you weren’t needed. Besides, what would your reputation turn to if you were caught helping humans in need whenever they were in trouble? Just keep going, that’s what you ended up telling yourself. 

“Oi, whaddya think you’re doin’? Get your dirty hands off me!”

Okay, fuck that. Scratch every single thought that was previously in your head; it’s up in flames now. You found yourself rushing towards the source of the noise with your eyes blown wide as you frantically searched for the human you hoped wasn’t the one in trouble. “Mammon?” You shouted into the night. Every nerve was going off and you were just barely keeping your demon form back. You heard Mammon calling out for you and it kicked you into overdrive. You’re by his side in a second, pulling him away from a group of three men. “What the hell is going on here?” 

“These annoyin’ assholes are tryna steal my money! A man can’t even walk home in peace without gettin’ mugged! Can ya believe that shit?” Still, you didn’t miss the way he inched closer to you as he anxiously glanced between the three of them. 

“I thought your job closed in the evening?” You asked incredulously as you managed to put space between Mammon and the strangers. 

“I have two jobs! Ya ever tried livin’ in a city? Do we even need to be discussin’ this right now?” Your eyes caught a glimpse of something shining and you abruptly moved in front of Mammon when noticing it was a pocket knife. 

“We only planned on roughing him up a bit.” The man with the weapon explained, a smirk on his lips as he took a step closer. “But since he got his friend involved to make things more complicated, I think we’ll have to do a bit more than that.” You weren’t the least bit scared, but you needed to keep in mind that Mammon was a human and that the boy could easily get hurt if things went wrong. 

“Get a job like him and you won’t need to mug people for the holidays.” You deadpan, Mammon gasping behind you.

“Are ya tryna get us killed? God, ya shoulda just kept walkin’!” Your eyebrow twitched in annoyance but you choose to ignore him for the time being. Did humans always have to be so ungrateful when they were in the middle of being aided? 

Realistically, there were a few ways to go about this. The obvious and easiest one involved you shifting into your demon form, but then you’d have to kill three humans and scar Mammon. The cons were outweighing the pros, no matter how fast the situation would be resolved. The second option would be to fight them in your current form, which wouldn’t be too much of a problem as your strength wasn’t in question, but you’d still more than likely end up killing the three humans and traumatizing Mammon. He’d also probably want to call the police. Too much of a hassle for you. 

Finally, you could just… scare them. They’d run away, Mammon would be safe, and no one would end up dead. The only con would be if Mammon ended up seeing how you planned on scaring them, but that was your last option and you didn’t have a ton of time to come up with any others on the spot. “Mammon,” you turned your head slightly so that you could see him, “stay where you are, okay? Don’t move and don’t get in front of me.” If you could do this with him standing behind you, that would be the ideal situation. When he nodded his head in confirmation, you closed your eyes and let out a sigh. The three men were advancing slowly, thrown off by your calm demeanor. It’s when you opened your eyes again that you could feel your face begin to shift and transform into something else, a form a demon only takes when their aim was, to put it bluntly, to scare the shit out of humans. 

Naturally, when seeing your face, the three men dropped their weapons and ran, yelling and screaming the entire way until you were sure they were gone. Just as fast as you had transformed your face, you averted it back to its original form, turning around to face Mammon. “Are you alright? They didn’t hurt you, did they?” Now that you could properly analyze him, you had noticed he was covered with dirt and scratches, but other than that he seemed to be free of any major injuries. The man’s dazed as you looked him over, your hands pulling at his clothes and running through his hair to make sure you didn’t accidentally miss anything fatal. 

“They just roughed me up a little, that’s all. Ya know, grabbin’ my hair and shit and throwin’ me on the ground. All that fun stuff.” You could tell he was shaken up, but other than that your human seemed to be in good health. 

Wait. Your human? Why did you think that? It’s fine, just ignore it, it was probably just a slip-up. You’re panicked, after all, there’s no need to worry-

“How’d ya scare them off like that anyway?” 

“Uh, I showed them a bigger pocket knife.” It was a lame excuse, but it’s what you had to work with. 

“Oh, okay.” You’re thanking everything in the universe that he didn’t question you further on that. At the same time though… 

“You really should question things more. Who knows what could gobble you up out here. How’d you even end up in this situation? Did they tell you to follow them?” You couldn’t help but mother hen him. Even though he admitted to being alright, and that it checked out, you were still worried over this fragile little human that needed your help and protection at all costs. Yes, that’s it. You were being generous with your time and helping a human out, that was all it was. He would owe you, that was for sure. 

“What-- are you seriously grillin’ me right now? What happened to not victim blamin’ and shit, huh? They didn’t say shit to me! They just came up on me like I was a plate of steak and they were all starved dogs!” Interesting comparison, you note duly. “Next thing I know, I’m gettin’ dragged into some shady ass alley and they’re tryna steal all my shit! The joke’s on them, I’m flat broke anyway. They would have killed me and still walked away with jackshit.” That did little to ease your concerns. It amplified them. 

“How are you still alive?” It was a question for yourself, but based on Mammon’s facial expression, you said it out loud. 

“I’ll have ya know I’m great at self-defense! I didn’t need ya runnin’ to my aid like I was some damsel in distress or somethin’.” There was a red tint to his cheeks, but you weren’t sure if that was because of what just happened. 

“Right.” You sighed and crossed your arms over your chest. You glanced at the time on your D.D.D, ignoring the fact that Mammon was sending your phone a glare. Right, probably because I made up that lie the other day. You needed to get back home; should Lucifer find out you left yet again, he would have your head on a stick. At the same time, however, you didn’t feel comfortable leaving Mammon alone after he nearly got mugged. “Where do you live?” Consequences be damned, you weren’t letting anything else happen to this human. 

“Huh?”

“Where do you live?” You repeated yourself as if it were a normal question to ask someone outside in an alley past three in the morning. “You don’t think I’m letting you walk home alone after all that, do you?” There’s a sly grin on your lips when Mammon begins to practically have a temper tantrum over your words. “Why are you so upset? I’m trying to make sure you don’t get mugged again. You could at least thank me.” Why were humans so ungrateful and complicated? “The quicker you stop throwing a complete fit, the sooner we get you back home.”

“I am not a child!” 

“I never said you were.”

“You’re implyin’ it!”

“I’m doing no such thing.” 

You decided to dial back the teasing in case he pops a blood vessel. With a sigh, you turned around on your heels. “Alright, alright. I’ll leave you alone now. Just be careful and keep your guard up.” There was no way in hell you were going to leave him alone. If anything you’d just follow him in the shadows until you knew he was safe and sound. Stalkerish? Yes, possibly, but the right intentions were there.

As you began to walk away, a timid hand reached out and grabbed at your wrist. “Alright, fine. You can come with me, but don’t misunderstand. I’m not scared or nothin’, I’m just doin’ this simply so you’ll leave me alone.” A lopsided grin forms on your face when you look at his cute expression. Yeah, you were in trouble. 

The walk was mostly filled with silence, the two of you strolling along side-by-side as you kept an eye out for any more potential threats. Mammon seemed less anxious now that you were with him, and that put a part of you at ease. The walking came to an abrupt stop and you looked up from the ground to view an apartment complex that you assumed Mammon lived in. “This your place?” It looked like you’d be able to get home before Lucifer found anything out after all.

“Yeah.” He’s rubbing at his arms awkwardly as he lingers outside. “Uh, thanks for, uh, helpin’ me out and whatnot.” 

“Of course.” You knew there was something he was holding back based on his posture. “What’s wrong? Did someone follow us?” You turned around to quickly scan the area, though nothing came up. 

“What? No! I just, I was wonderin’, if-- look, it’s late out, yeah? And it’s cold as fuck and ya don’t have a jacket on, so, I don’t know, did ya maybe want to, possibly spend the night?” You froze in place, a look of pure shock on your face as you stared at the human. “It’s nothin’ sexual!” He practically cried out in embarrassment. “It’s just to repay ya for helpin’ me out! I swear!” 

You rub at the back of your neck shyly as you glanced around. “Yeah, sure, I don’t mind if you don’t mind.” So much for getting back home early. 

You slip your shoes off once you walked inside before awkwardly standing in the middle of his living room. What were you supposed to do now? You swore in all of your life you’ve never been so awkward before, and not around a human either. “Feel free to sit on the couch if you’d like.” Mammon offers as he quickly grabbed the trash from the coffee table. “I’ll get ya some blankets from the closet, pillows too.” You do as you're told and you sit down to avoid feeling awkward. You look around the room once he’s gone. It wasn’t… bad. Sure, it was nowhere near the size of the House of Lamentation, but it wasn’t awful, either. Pictures of him and his friends were framed on the walls, empty pizza boxes were stacked on the kitchen counter, and empty water bottles filled the recycling bin to the rim. He was a little messy, but then again he wasn’t expecting company, so you decided not to judge him for it. Not too much, anyway. There was a small television held up by a cardboard box across from the coffee table. You had to give him credit for creativity. 

“Sorry that the place is a dump.” Mammon reenters the room with blankets piled up in his arms, as well as a change of clothes for you. “I usually clean up when company comes over, but obviously…” His voice trails off as you take the blankets and clothes from him. 

“Thank you.” You smiled up at him and the red tint to his cheeks return. 

“You’re welcome.” He huffed under his breath before disappearing once again. “Let me find ya some pillows. I have a few extra ones around here somewhere.” He calls out from down the hall. You look down at the clothes he gave you. A baggy plain shirt and a pair of sweatpants. It was better than sleeping in your clothes you supposed. You began to pull your shirt over your head so that you could properly change before Mammon came stumbling back into the room. “I found some- oh god! Oh god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you’d be changin’-- I have a bathroom, ya know. What the fuck am I even apologizin’ for? Who changes in the middle of someone’s livin’ room anyway?” You blink and looked over at a beet red Mammon who’s gripping onto the pillows for dear life, his eyes looking anywhere but at you. You didn’t understand the big deal, but then again, humans tended to react strangely to others who were naked or in the process of changing. 

You slowly pulled your shirt back down and looked over at him again. “Sorry.” Is all you have to offer him. 

“I,” it took him a second to recollect his bearings, “ya really aren’t from here, are ya?” 

“No, I’m really not.” 

“Right then…” He shifts on his feet uncomfortably before stuffing his hands into the pockets of his pants. “I brought you some pillows.” He dumps them into your lap before storming down the hall. “I’m goin’ to bed; don’t steal anythin’ or I’ll kick ya to the curb!” You rolled your eyes at his empty threat before grabbing your clothes and pillows. This would count as one of the strangest nights of your life.

You woke up to the sun shining in your face, something you weren’t accustomed to. You rubbed at your eyes sleepily before pausing. No, as odd as it may be to you, the sun was not the thing that woke you up. A sharp poke to your side makes you look over.

Yes, that’s what woke you up. 

You look over from where you were lying on the couch to see Mammon’s foot more or less kicking your side. He wasn’t putting any force behind the kick, but it nonetheless made you raise an eyebrow. “Are you kicking me?” The man paused his ministrations when realizing you were awake. 

“I thought you were dead.”

“What?”

“I don’t know; sometimes people die in their sleep. Was makin’ sure ya weren’t one of them? How would I explain that to the police?” You stared at Mammon in disbelief, the white-haired man growing red in response to your judgmental glare.

“Ya don’t need to be so rude.” He finally huffs out in response and turned around with his arms crossed over his chest. “Listen, I was just wakin’ ya up because I need to get goin’ to work soon and I can’t have ya stayin’ around unsupervised in case ya steal all of my shit and I come back to a cleaned out apartment.” Well, he was certainly blunt with what he was thinking. 

You slowly sit up and grab your D.D.D. You figured it was still early in the morning since Mammon had once mentioned that he worked at the crack of dawn. If you were lucky, you could make it back home before Lucifer would notice. 

And that’s when you remembered that you saw sunshine when you woke up.

With immediate panic, you unlock your phone to look at the time. To your horror, it was nearly eleven in the morning. Lucifer was awake and speaking of the devil himself, you had several missed calls and messages from your brothers, specifically from Lucifer. You bolted from where you were previously resting as Mammon watched before he stumbled back from your sudden movements. “What’s goin’ on?”

“I gotta go.” You quickly said as you scooped up your clothes and rushed towards the door. Clumsily slipping on your shoes, you turned back to him. “I’ll return your clothes to you another day. Make sure you don’t get mugged again on your way home. If you need to, buy some mace or pepper spray or something.” Before he could respond to your advice, you’re out his front door and running down the hall. You were so so screwed.

Screwed hadn’t even begun to cover it. You showed up in the clothes a human lent you, reeking of a human, still drowsy as you had just woken up not long ago, and just overall completely disheveled. On top of that, you knew Lucifer was awake, but you had hoped to arrive home at a time where he was out with Diavolo and you’d be able to shower and change before your inevitable lecture, which might have gotten you off a little easier.

Except that’s not what happened, as before you even unlocked the front door Lucifer swung it open. Now you were sitting in his office as Lucifer silently paced around his room. This had been going on for thirty minutes. You could tell your brothers were waiting on the other side of the door, trying to see if they could hear anything. You wanted to tell them not to hold their breath, but you were too nervous to move and unable to take your eyes off your eldest brother. 

“I thought I told you not to go back to the human realm.” You quickly looked away when Lucifer locked on to your gaze. “Look at me when I’m talking to you; I will not repeat myself.” Hesitantly, you found yourself looking back over at him. “Answer me.” His tone was that of a warning, and you knew at that moment you were on thin ice.

“You did.”

“And yet I found your room empty last night, and your D.D.D nearly unreachable.” You opened your mouth to speak, but Lucifer raises a hand to keep you silent. “And then I found myself thinking, that out of all my siblings, you couldn’t have been that stupid to return to the human realm after I told you to stop.” You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, and you lean back against the couch you were sitting on. You tried to shrink yourself, but that didn’t make Lucifer any less intimidating. “And then I thought, ‘Lucifer, don’t be so hard on them, maybe they needed a fresh breath of air. You can’t accuse your siblings of being up to something whenever they’re out of your sight. Surely they aren’t that bad.’” He quickened his pace as he circled the room. “But then after two hours you didn’t return, and something told me you yet again disobeyed me and returned to the very place I warned you not to go. Tell me, was watching Lilith and Belphegor suffer because humans not good enough for you? You were never a sibling I had to worry about before. You always listened to me and you helped me keep everyone in line. Why is it that now I have to keep my eye on you?” He stopped abruptly and rubbed at his temples. 

You felt irritation stir deep inside you, though you bit back what you wanted to say. You knew Lucifer was getting worked up, and if you started an argument now, it wouldn’t end well for anyone involved. “I’m sorry.” Keeping the peace seemed like a better option for you at the moment. You knew what battles to pick, and this was not one of them. “I shouldn’t have lied to you and snuck out--”

“You came back in the clothes of a human.” Lucifer seethed. “You smelled like a human. Do you have a human lover? Are you seeing a human?” He looks at you with wide eyes, the demon looking like he was on the brink of insanity. “I will not watch someone I love fall because of humans. Not again. If you’re seeing a human then forget about it. It’s over.” 

“I’m not involved with a human, Lucifer.”

“Then why are you wearing their clothes? Why do you smell more human than a demon? You were gone for an entire night!” You flinch when he raised his voice and he noticed, the demon then trying to dial it back somewhat. He never liked arguing with you even when you were the one in the wrong. Perhaps it was one of the perks of being the favorite? “If you were hunting humans you wouldn’t be gone all night. If you were just looking around you wouldn’t be gone all night! Tell me, what were you doing? Who were you with?” You swallow nervously and averted your gaze. Getting Mammon in trouble, and with Lucifer of all people, was not what you wanted to do. “I will not repeat myself. Who--”

“I’m not telling you who I was with.” This wasn’t usual for you. You didn’t talk back to Lucifer, you didn’t tell him no, and you certainly didn’t argue with him. But you knew if you gave him Mammon’s information, the human that you tried so desperately to save last night might be put in danger once again, but this time by your brother. It wasn’t a situation you wanted to get involved in, so you’d try and prevent it as best as possible. 

“Pardon?” There’s a look of shock on his face, and you could almost hear one of your brother’s gasps from outside the door. 

“I’m not going to tell you who I was with last night. Why would I? So you can kill him?” If looks could kill, you’d be dead right now. 

“So it’s a man.” 

You groaned at your brother’s response. Typical Lucifer. “Lucifer, I already apologized for going without your permission, but I’m an adult, and I’m not going to give you every little detail of what I did when I was in the human realm.”

“It’s the way you think that that suffices as an apology.” He states in disbelief. “You need to learn to stay in your place.”

“And where’s my place?”

“If you were smart, you’d learn quickly.” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m not going to ask again. Who is he?”

“I’m still not going to tell you.” You knew Lucifer would go to any length to protect those closest to him, and if he deemed Mammon as a threat it would most likely end with the human getting wiped from existence. You could see the anger just barely restrained behind his eyes, the demon shifting into his demon form without even realizing it. 

“If that’s how you want to play, then we will play it your way. You are forbidden from ever attending the human realm again.” You blink several times before rising from your seat. 

“And who are you to make that decision?”

“Along with that, you are to stay in my sight until I decide you can be trusted on your own again. Lord Diavolo doesn’t approve of random trips to the human realm, and when he finds out that you’ve been making day trips there, you’ll suddenly find yourself with lots of free time on your hands.” You paused. You hadn’t thought of that. You knew, although Diavolo was pushing for realms to reach peace with one another, that he wouldn’t approve of a demon taking unauthorized trips to the human realm. 

“But--”

“No. We’re finished here; there’s nothing further to discuss.” You knew his words held truth by the expression on his face. You watch wordlessly as Lucifer leaves his study, leaving you alone in the room with just your thoughts.

[ibijau]

How to Woo a Lan pt 4 / Also on AO3

Jin Ling explains why he fell in love, gets some advice, and tries to give advice of his own in return

Clearly expecting that the conversation would take a while, Nie Huaisang put away his work and called for servants to bring everything needed to serve tea. Once they were alone waiting for that tea to arrive, Jin Ling started explaining how he had fallen in love with the most perfect person in the entire world, how beautiful Lan Sizhui was (this earned him an unimpressed stare from Nie Huaisang), how elegant (more staring), how nice (a roll of the eyes).

“So he is polite, and you find that impressive,” Nie Huaisang noted, hiding a yawn behind his fan. “I suppose someone living in Jinlin Tai and the Lotus Pier wouldn’t be used to it. And of course he’s handsome, he’s a Lan. I think it’s something in the water of the Cloud Recesses.” Jin Ling frowned at the dismissal of Lan Sizhui’s quality, while Nie Huaisang yawned again, this time without bothering to hide it. “Is that why you love him? He’s capable of more basic decency than most people you’ve met in your life -a very low bar, might I add-, he’s somewhat good-looking, and that’s it?”

“Of course that’s not all!” Jin Ling exploded, but he couldn’t explain the rest right away as the servants returned then.

Nie Huaisang, who could act like a good host when he felt like it, prepared tea with slow, measured movements and poured it for both of them when the servants left again. With unexpected elegance, he gave one glass of tea to Jin Ling before making a gesture to order him to resume speaking.

“He really is kind, and I won’t let you treat it like something that doesn’t matter,” Jin Ling said, before taking a sip of tea. 

It was nice, if a little plain. Having accompanied both his uncles to conferences in Qinghe before, he knew this blend was considered the better sort of tea available in the Unclean Realm, which comforted him. He had no doubt Nie Huaisang wouldn’t have hesitated to serve him bad tea if he’d really been annoyed about being half blackmailed into helping.

 “I know people from Gusu Lan are polite, but it’s not the same as kind,” Jin Ling pointed out, and he could have sworn Nie Huaisang’s mouth twitched in an almost-smile. “When we were in Yi City, he really was nice to everyone, checked those that had gotten poisoned, and encouraged them to eat some congee even if it tasted awful. If it had been me, I’d just have scolded them into eating it! And some of the others with us were scolding their poisoned friends, because we were all worried, but he took time to reassure others, even if he had to be worried too. I mean, his dad was out there fighting stuff, of course he was worried!”

Nie Huaisang made a face at the mention of Yi City, and quickly opened his fan to hide behind. Jin Ling only remembered then that if he and his friends had almost died in that place, it might have been because of this man sitting across from him. It was a really odd thing to think, and if Wei Wuxian in person hadn’t made the accusation, if Jiang Cheng hadn’t later told Jin Ling that the whole thing made sense… how could Nie Huaisang have had the guts to do that, when he was too much of a coward to meet Jin Ling’s eyes when he mentioned this?

“I suppose he’s been raised a little better than most boys his age,” Nie Huaisang conceded,fanning himself just a little too quickly. “An effect of growing up around Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen, both excellent role models, except for their taste in friends. So you love a beautiful young man who is kind to everyone, hm?”

“Well…”

It was Jin Ling’s turn to avert his eyes, his cheeks flushing a little in embarrassment.

“Well, it’s also that he’s not always sweet,” he muttered, before quickly emptying his tea to give himself a countenance.

“How so?” Nie Huaisang asked, sounding genuinely puzzled. He even closed his fan, as if to better focus on what Jin Ling had to say.

“Well. Well, you see, after that whole thing in Jinlin Tai, when Wei Wuxian accused my uncle of murder, and my aunt died, and then me and a bunch of juniors were kidnapped, right?” Jin Ling asked. Nie Huaisang grimaced again. Right, this too was kind of his fault, wasn’t it? “And even then Sizhui was so nice when we were held in that cave, and trying to comfort everyone! But also… Well. I have this very annoying cousin, you see? And he was acting awful, and Sizhui had been patient and patient and patient, but in the end… well, in the end he snapped, and I think if he hadn’t been tied up, he would have slapped Jin Chan in the face.”

Even after this long, the memory of Lan Sizhui’s righteous fury still made Jin Ling’s heart beat a little faster. That it had happened because his cousin had been pestering him was just a nice bonus.

“And also, he tries to hide it, but he’s a little proud,” Jin Ling added. “He really, really likes being praised. His face completely lights up when Hanguang-Jun says he’s done good, and he’s almost glowing whenever Wei Wuxian compliments him and says he’s a good boy and all that. And then when someone says something mean to him, his face does that thing…”

Jin Ling tried to scrunch his own face into an approximation of Lan Sizhui’s expression. He didn’t have a great talent for impressions, but it was still good enough for Nie Huaisang to let out a snort. He then tried to cover it by coughing a few times, but Jin Ling knew what he’d heard.

“It’s never for very long,” Jin Ling resumed, “but I noticed it and it’s just. I guess he wouldn’t like me to call it that, but it’s really cute. I just wish I didn’t keep saying the wrong thing to make him make that face, you know? I want to watch it, not cause it.”

“At least you have self awareness,” Nie Huaisang said, rolling his eyes. “That’s more than several members of your family could ever have said. You’ll just have to learn how to turn a weakness into a strength. Now, tell me, what have you tried to make Lan Sizhui aware of your interest in him?”

Jin Ling, suddenly, desperately wished he had some tea left in his glass, just so he could pretend to drink it instead of facing that question. He ended up turning the empty glass between his hands and staring down at the table, feeling Nie Huaisang’s silence get more and more judgemental the longer it took Jin Ling to answer.

“I see,” Nie Huaisang said after a while.

“You don’t see anything! I just want us to be good friends first, and then…”

Jin Ling trailed off, and toyed some more with his empty glass.

“Fine, then what have you done to become his friend then?” Nie Huaisang insisted, amusement piercing through his voice.

“Well, he hasn’t been around much those last few months,” Jin Ling muttered. “But, well, I went with him on Night Hunts twice before someone killed my uncle, so there’s that. And then he came home not too long ago, and we went on another Night Hunt with everyone! And then…” He sighed, deeply. “And then I said something wrong, and I think I accidentally insulted him, and I haven’t seen him since then and I can’t see him until I figure out how to do things right!”

Nie Huaisang hummed, but didn’t say anything right away. When Jin Ling risked a glance, he found the older man looking at him the way one might inspect a horse before buying it. Jin Ling didn’t particularly care for that. It felt so wrong for Nie Huaisang to have such an intense, calculating expression on his face, making him look miles away from the blundering fool who had bothered Jin Ling’s uncle for years and years.

When Nie Huaisang looked like that, it became too easy that he had done all those terrible things Wei Wuxian had accused him of.

“It’s true that you have a certain gift for saying exactly what people don’t want to hear,” Nie Huaisang stated, fanning himself slowly. “You’re impulsive, that’s your problem, and your uncles both failed you in that regard. It’d be hard to go against your own nature in the best of case, but they've done nothing to help you understand your own temper. I suppose we’ll have to work with it. Have you ever considered taking up a correspondence with Lan Sizhui?”

Jin Ling shook his head. “It’s… isn’t it risky? My uncles have always told me if I start liking someone, I shouldn’t leave traces. There’s always a risk of blackmail, if the other person doesn’t feel the same. Not that Sizhui would ever do that! But, well… Letters can fall into the wrong hands, and because of my grandfather I know people watch me more than other boys my age in case... well...”

“I’m not telling you to write him erotic letters,” Nie Huaisang said with a mocking sneer. “Not yet anyway, and I could teach you a trick or two about keeping those secrets. But simple, polite letters... it’s a good way to stay in touch with a friend, and it would let you think more carefully about what you’re saying, and how you’re saying it.”

“Oh.”

That did sound wise. Even Jiang Cheng was a little less abrasive when writing than in person, and Jin Ling was fairly sure he wasn’t as bad as his uncle. That might be worth trying.

“Another piece of advice,” Nie Huaisang continued, fanning himself with slow, nearly hypnotic movements. “Own up to your faults. Admit to your little friend that you’re aware your mouth goes faster than your brain, and that you often realise too late you said something bad. You could even tell him that you’d appreciate his guidance in correcting this. Gusu Lan disciples love that sort of things, they’re all raised to become teachers. Offer yourself as a student and the fight is half won already.”

“You’re sure?”

“How do you think I even got Lan Xichen to notice me? ‘Please Xichen-gege, please tutor me’,” Nie Huaisang whined in a high pitched voice, his bottom lip trembling for a moment, before his pathetic pout turned into a disgusted grimace as he closed his fan with a sharp gesture. “I think the Lan like a desperate case, so you should have your chance.”

That was a very rude thing to say, but Jin Ling could hardly disagree. Nie Huaisang was a complete mess, that much was clear. And as for Wei Wuxian, the less said, the better. Yet those two absolute disasters had, apparently, managed to seduce the two top cultivators of Gusu Lan, nay, of the entire cultivation world, who surely could have had their pick of competent and emotionally capable partners of any gender.

Jin Ling hated that it did make him feel a little more hopeful.

“Well, that’s all my advice for today,” Nie Huaisang announced, before glancing with disgust at the pile of paperwork he’d set aside earlier. “I have to do my own work these days and it takes a while, so I’d appreciate it if you left. I know etiquette dictates I should invite you to spend the night here,” he added, “but I really don’t feel like it, and I don’t suppose you’d enjoy it either. Who could say if I wouldn’t change my mind and murder you in your sleep, right?”

Nie Huaisang laughed at his own joke, earning an unimpressed stare from Jin Ling for his poor taste in humour.

It probably was a joke. 

Right?

Just to be a pest, Jin Ling considered forcing the issue and demanding to be given a room. But Nie Huaisang had guessed right in suspecting that Jin Ling didn’t quite trust him enough to make himself vulnerable in his domain. Not only that, but if he stayed, poor Ouyang Zizhen might start worrying about him, and either try to storm the Unclean Realm on his own, or worse fly toward the Lotus Piers and get Jiang Cheng to storm the Unclean Realm, by far the worst possible option because then Jin Ling would have two other sect leaders furious at him.

“I’ll leave,” he conceded, which made Nie Huaisang smirk. “But can I come back tomorrow, and show you my letter? Just to make sure I’m not writing anything too awful.”

“I would say no,” Nie Huaisang sighed, “but I have a feeling you’ll just do as you please anyway, so I might as well pretend I have any control over this. Yes, come back tomorrow, why not. It’s not like I have anything better to do. Try to be here at the same hour as today, and I should be able to make time for you.”

Jin Ling promised. Nie Huaisang then called for a servant to bring Jin Ling back to the gate so he wouldn’t get lost. The distrust, apparently, was mutual.

Once out of the Unclean Realm, Jin Ling lost no time in returning to Qinghe proper, and there he headed straight for the inn where Ouyang Zizhen awaited his return with much anxiety. The poor boy nearly cried of relief when he saw Jin Ling enter the inn. In fairness though, he was just that sort of a person so Jin Ling told himself he hadn’t caused his friend any actual worry. Still, he made sure to buy the best food the inn had to offer, and some wine as well, just to thank Ouyang Zizhen for having come along.

While they had lunch in the privacy of their room, Jin Ling reported his success, and shared the advice given to him. Jin Ling had told Ouyang Zizhen that he’d gone to Nie Huaisang in particular because he used to be friends with Lan Xichen and thus knew Lan Sizhui, an explanation that seemed to be accepted without further questions. 

Jin Ling couldn’t help thinking that Lan Sizhui would have asked for more details about that. He was curious and observant, surely he might have picked up on something wrong with Jin Ling’s lie. Then again, with gossip forbidden, he might not have said anything.

Someday, Jin Ling wouldn’t have to speculate. Lan Sizhui and him would be married, and happy, and they would share everything, unlike some people, so Lan Sizhui wouldn’t even have to pick up clues to know things.

With this goal in mind, Jin Ling started drafting a letter as soon as he was done eating. His first attempt was predictably awful, but to Jin Ling’s surprise, he actually realised that on his own, even before Ouyang Zizhen could check it. Maybe Nie Huaisang had been on to something about it being easier to deal with his temper and lack of social skills on paper. So Jin Ling drafted a second letter, and then a third, while Ouyang Zizhen sat by, reading over his shoulder and occasionally offering his opinion.

By the fifth draft, Jin Ling felt he was starting to get the hang of this.

“I just can’t believe you got him to agree,” Ouyang Zizhen said while glancing at his letter again. “I mean, Nie zongzhu! You’ve said that Wei Wuxian said that he’s the one who got your uncle killed, right? So… are you really sure it’s not a trap?”

Jin Ling chewed on the end of his brush, trying to remember how to write a certain character, and shrugged.

“I’m not sure it isn’t. A trap, I mean.”

“And you’re still going back tomorrow?” Ouyang Zizhen gasped. “He’s given you advice, and good one at that, isn’t it enough?”

Jin Ling shrugged again, and wrote down another sentence.

His friend wasn’t wrong to find him unwise. Nie Huaisang was dangerous, there was no denying it, and he certainly wasn’t nice, that was certain as well. But if Nie Huaisang had been as awful as he pretended to be, he wouldn’t have listened to Jin Ling at all, wouldn’t have talked so fondly about Jin Zixuan, wouldn’t have gotten so upset at the thought of Lan Xichen’s reputation being ruined any further.

Nie Huaisang wasn’t nice, but he probably wasn’t that bad either. No more than other people in Jin Ling’s life, anyway, and at least he didn't shout as much as Jiang Cheng did.

“If I don’t go back, he’ll think I’m scared,” Jin Ling claimed.

“Well, aren’t you?”

“Even if I were, I wouldn’t want him to know that. Anyway, I think I’m done, can you read it?”

Ouyang Zizhen obeyed, and agreed it was about as good as it could get without getting too awkward. It didn’t need to be perfect, anyway. Jin Ling had a feeling that Nie Huaisang would enjoy having something to criticize. So he put away his letter, and went out to explore Qinghe with Ouyang Zizhen, forgetting his love troubles for a little while. They had great fun, and Jin Ling only wished a few times that he could have been doing this with Lan Sizhui instead.

Soon, he would.

-

Come morning, Jin Ling dutiful returned to the gate of the Unclean Realm. Just like before the disciples guarding the entrance stared him down in disapproval, but this time they let him in almost immediately, and Jin Ling was again led by Qinghe Nie’s first disciple toward Nie Huaisang’s office. This time there was already tea waiting for him when he got there, and the pile of paperwork on Nie Huaisang’s desk looked a good deal smaller and neater. Either he had worked hard to free some time, or he had hidden away anything sensitive to make sure Jin Ling wouldn’t get too curious. Jin Ling figured he would have done the same, and decided to take no offence.

Instead, he put a small pouch of candies on the desk, by the teapot. Nie Huaisang threw him a sharp look for that but pinched his lips so he wouldn't ask any questions. Jin Ling sat down and shrugged.

“You used to bring those to Jinlin Tai when I was little, even if nobody but you would eat them. I figured you had to like them, and since you’re helping me and all…”

“I see good memory runs in the family,” Nie Huaisang noted, glaring at the candies yet making no movement to take one. As if Jin Ling would have poisoned him. It was a coward’s method of murder, Jiang Cheng always said, and Jin Ling was no coward. “Did you write a letter, Jin zongzhu?”

“I did,” Jin Ling confirmed, digging into his sleeve for the latest draft which he handed to Nie Huaisang. “I think it’s pretty good.”

In answer Nie Huaisang just rolled his eyes, and started reading. Jin Ling realised he was getting nervous, as if that odd man’s approval actually mattered in any way. To distract himself he drank some tea, and helped himself to a few candies. They were pretty much nothing but sugar, which made his teeth ache. How could anyone enjoy something like that? Maybe Nie Huaisang had just wanted to be a pest back then, bothering everyone with shitty candies.

“It’s acceptable,” Nie Huaisang said at last, returning the letter to Jin Ling. “Not great, but a clear improvement over the things you tend to say in person.”

“I can rewrite it again,” Jin Ling muttered, disappointed that all his efforts got him so little praise. “If you show me what to change…”

“No, the imperfections are necessary,” Nie Huaisang explained, opening his fan. “If it is too polished, it will be obvious that you’re not writing alone. It really isn’t so bad, anyway. Better than when your father… well, nevermind that. You’re not doing so bad. And inviting him to a Night Hunt is smart, I’m surprised you thought of it.”

“You don’t think it’s too bold?” Jin Ling asked.

“He’s a Lan, they don’t see Night Hunts as a prelude to flirtation,” Nie Huaisang said, before grimacing. “I wish I’d known that when I was young, actually. So don’t hope for anything more than a pleasant moment with a friend. Well, pleasant if you enjoy Night Hunting, which apparently some people do.”

Jin Ling huffed. Of course he liked Night Hunting. Any decent cultivator did. But of course, Nie Huaisang was hardly a decent cultivator, no matter how you looked at it, and his dislike of Night Hunts was no big secret. He only showed up if he had absolutely no choice, Jin Guangyao used to complain, and then he was such a hindrance that everyone would have been better off without him, especially poor Lan Xichen who’d had to rescue him more than once.

But still Nie Huaisang would go and try, Jin Ling remembered. He didn’t enjoy it, but he tried, at least if Lan Xichen was also present. And Lan Xichen did look happy about that, whenever it happened. Really happy, instead of just polite.

It really was too bad that these two had fallen out like that, because they’d seemed to have a good influence on each other, aside from the one murder. Not that any of this was Jin Ling’s business, of course, and he presently held little affection for either man.

And yet...

“Since we’re on the topic of letters. Have you ever thought of writing to Zewu-Jun?” Jin Ling asked, because if it were him having such a huge argument with someone he loved, maybe he would want someone to butt in and help. He wouldn’t like it, but he’d want it. “Because maybe…”

“I have written to Gusu Lan a few times on official business,” Nie Huaisang coldly cut him, closing his fan with a snap. “Aside from this, I have no reason to correspond with anyone there.”

“But maybe you could…”

“I have nothing to say to Lan Xichen,” Nie Huaisang explained, reopening his fan with an impatient flourish. “You see, I am not sorry for what I’ve done,” he said with a cruel smile. “Your uncle deserved to die. He was an awful man, who did awful things, and if I’d truly had my way, he would have died an awful death.”

Jin Ling, who’d thought that losing an arm, being stabbed by his closest friend, and then having his neck snapped by the enraged fierce corpse of one of his victims only to be trapped with said fierce corpse for a century to suffer untold torment had been a pretty awful way to die already, couldn’t help a frown.

He made a decision to never ask Nie Huaisang what he would have preferred to see happen to Jin Guangyao.

“I know what Lan Xichen wants to hear from me,” Nie Huaisang continued, fanning himself. “He most likely wants me to say that I’m sorry. And I could say it. I’m a very good liar, if I do say so myself. So I could lie to him, say exactly what he wants to hear, be exactly the man he wants me to be…” He paused and grimaced in disgust. “But in that case, I would just have turned into another Jin Guangyao.”

“And you don’t want to become like him.”

“I am like him,” Nie Huaisang snapped with such rage that Jin Ling jumped on his seat. “I can’t change that now. I am a good liar, but I’ve decided long ago I wouldn’t lie to myself, and I know what I am. As for Lan Xichen, in spite of his blindness, in spite of his errors, he deserves better than to fall prey to another liar. And that’s why I cannot…”

“You really should write to him,” Jin Ling insisted. “And tell him all that stuff. I mean, since you don’t have regrets and you know you're an asshole, then it’s no big deal telling him things as they are, right? And then at least he gets to know the full truth. You old people really should be more honest instead of making everything complicated all the time.”

Nie Huaisang glared at him, as cold and angry as he’d been the day before, but Jin Ling realised it was already starting to lose its effect on him. It wasn’t so different from when Jiang Cheng threatened to break his legs over every single little annoyance.

Well, it was a little different in that Jin Ling still wasn’t sure Nie Huaisang wouldn’t murder him if he was certain to get away with it, but it was still the same general sentiment.

Jin Ling didn’t even mind that Nie Huaisang impatiently ordered him to leave, grumbling about disrespectful children, time wasted on educating idiotic youths, and how he refused to be involved in this any further. This, too, Jin Ling had heard before from his uncle, and he’d learned to ignore it all.

If the letter and the Night Hunt didn’t work, Jin Ling knew for sure he could come and ask for Nie Huaisang’s help again.